One Day At School
ONE DAY AT SCHOOL
I'm a 18 year old woman and like many of you readers I believe that the best place for poop is not the toilet but in my panties. Like most people, I guess, I was toilet trained at an early age and soon after that stopped having accidents all together. Had it not been for a freak occurrence during my high school years, I might still be using the toilet all the time and missing out on this great fetish.
Though the accident occurred in my senior year, the story begins when I was a sophomore. As sophomores, myself and another girl were both competing for the attention of the same guy - a real hunk of a senior who was wide receiver on the football team and captain of the basketball team. I dated him first and we were going together for several months before the other girl, whom I call "****face", stole him away from me.
To make matters worse, it was at one of my own parties that she latched onto him and she always delighted in rubbing my face in her conquest. Nor did she ever make any secret of the fact that she was "his chosen one". I know that this may sound old fashioned but I was barely 15 years old at the time. Anyway, from that moment on, the two of us were "enemies for life."
We fought all through high school and I do mean "fought." While a lot of our confrontations were merely verbal, mostly words of the four letter persuasion, a lot of our altercations were actually knock-down, drag-out, hair-pulling fights. You wouldn't believe how many times we were punished at school for what we said and did to each other. But we hated each other so much, I simply didn't matter.
The Vice Principal used to call us the "detention twins" in recognition of all the time that we spent there and that it was always together that we were punished. We once had to serve four straight weeks of detention for two really nasty hair-pulling fights within two weeks of each other and during our senior year, we twice had Saturday Detention (like in the Breakfast Club movie) for various incidents.
Once, they even made us stay after school and write 100 times on the chalkboard, "I promise never to fight in school again." Countless times we were made to write apologies to each other and often got our mouths washed out for swearing. We both got kicked off the cheerleading squad, I got kicked off the basketball team, and she was kicked off basketball and soccer.
One time we spent two entire weeks of study halls cleaning bathrooms when one of our fights ended up busting two sinks and a toilet in one of the lavatories. On this particular day that I'm writing about, it was right after my sixth period class and I had some business to care of in the girls' room.
Just as I was walking into the lavatory and heading for the one unoccupied stall, "****face" just happened to be coming out of another stall. She couldn't resist sticking her foot out and it sent me flying into the floor.
I barely missed hitting my head on a stall door and even as it was I had cut my lip a little bit. This was really embarrassing because after everyone saw that I was alright, everyone in the bathroom (and it was crowded at the time) thought that this was hilariously funny.
Well, I didn't think it was funny at all and I charged at "****face" intending to exact my revenge. I hit her, she hit me, and it went on from there like it had so many time before this.
This particular altercation, however, was one of our nastiest. Before it was over, not only were my clothes dirty from rolling around on the bathroom floor, but my blouse had been torn as well. My lip had been cut from her ring when she slugged me across the face and my forehead felt a little sore from when I hit the floor initially.
As for her, she ended up with a few facial scratches and a little less hair -- courtesy of my hands. The back of her hair was soaking wet from where I had dunked it into a toilet (and a partially unflushed toilet at that) and the fight was broken up just as I was trying to stick her face in that same disgusting toilet water.
We were immediately taken to the Vice Principal's office. Just judging by our appearance assured us that we would be dealt with severely. Cutting right to the chase he gave us two Saturday Detentions and school is the last place I wanted to be for five hours (8 AM to 1 PM) on a Saturday morning. He also gave us a week of regular detention and so many extra homework assignments to do that I wondered if I'd ever have any free time again.
But this time, the Vice Principal was madder than I'd ever seen him and he just didn't stop with the punishments. He gave us the same basic lecture that we had heard on many previous occasions (about maturity and how we couldn't act our age) but this time his tone was a lot angrier. He went on to say that as long as we were going to act like five year olds, he was going to treat us like that.
He took us to the main entrance lobby of the school right outside his outer office. He sent "****face" into one corner and told her to stand there facing the wall and he sent me to do the same in an opposite corner. He also made it perfectly clear that we'd be spending the rest of the afternoon there until detention was let out.
Although it was embarrassing for an eighteen year old high school senior to be seen standing in the corner like a little girl (not to mention the tedium of staring at the wall for close to three hours), compared to our other punishments, this didn't seem all that bad. But then I realized how much worse a punishment this was for me than for "***face."
You see, she had already used the toilet when the fight started but I had not. I had to poop kind of bad by now and I seriously doubted if I could hold it through 3 hours in the corner, especially if I couldn't sit down. Holding it in for that long would at best be extremely uncomfortable and at worst something that hadn't happened to me since I was seven years old.
To make a long story short, that's exactly what happened. No matter how much I begged him, the Vice Principal would not let me leave my assigned corner until my time was up, not even to go to the bathroom. Anyway, before long I just couldn't hold it in anymore.
Suddenly, it all came out at once, one big soft log of poop followed by two smaller ones. It was a lot of poop and really sticky, too. It spread quickly through my panties, all over and through my bottom, and some of the load even got onto my thighs. It was a bad mess to say the least.
But even after the bowel movement came out in my panties (and I'm sure after a while that darn Vice Principal knew what he'd made me do), he would not let me out of the corner. I had to stand there the whole rest of the time, probably close to an hour, with that mess in my panties. He did have the courtesy to dismiss "***face" first and after she had left the lobby he came over and dismissed me.
"I told you I had to go to the bathroom really bad," I said to him, "You know you made me mess in my pants!" "I take that back about you acting like a five year old," he teased me back, "A three year old is more like it." And he still didn't let me go to the girls' room as he followed me to my locker and out of the school.
"You go clean that up at home," he told me, "You're not going to mess up one of my girls' rooms with that load." I was tempted to answer him back, but the last thing I needed at this point was more punishment and I felt lucky enough that no one else in the school knew of my accident and I certainly wanted to keep it that way.
I just left the school in tears, walking carefully with that awful load of poop in my panties and all over my backside. I peed myself on my way as well. There was a wet spot in my pants now but it didn't bother me.
Even though I knew that this was not my fault at all, and in spite of my erotic feelings, I was still embarrassed by having the messy accident and was desperate for it to remain a secret.
Especially, I didn't want to give "****face" the satisfaction of knowing that she caused me to have this disgusting and shameful accident. Though I had some how managed to keep it a secret from my friends and my enemy in school, I still had to face my mother.
By the time I got home that day, the mess had been in my panties for well over an hour and my accident was impossible to hide. At first, she didn't seem to believe me when I told her. I think she was in a state of shock, not really believing that an 18 year old would mess in her panties.
But the smell more than convinced her what I was talking about the truth. And when she made me pull down my jeans and she got a good look at the massive load in my panties, her face grew red with anger.
"Disgusting!, Shame on you at your age," she kept repeating over and over again. She was so mad at me that she wasn't even listening to my explanation of how it happened. For punishment, she sent me immediately to the bathroom and she made me clean myself without even using a washcloth. I had to wipe so many times that I used up two entire rolls of toilet paper and had to flush the toilet eleven times to get it all down.
She made me clean my panties by first turning them inside out and dumping the load in the toilet to get out the big pieces of the poop. Next, I had to rinse the panties in the sink and my mom made me scrub until my fingers were raw and every single poop stain was gone.
All I could think of at this point was how lucky I was that my jeans were not soiled as well. If that had happened, not only would I have had something else to clean but then everyone at school would have known, and that would have been perhaps the worst humiliation possible.
I was grounded for two weeks and after being made to have a bowel movement on the toilet in front of my mother (apparently, I had succeeded in holding some of it while I was in the corner) I was sent to my room.
Not only couldn't I think of anything wrong with going in my panties, I could think of a whole lot of things right with it. Mostly, I liked the way it made me feel between my legs.
Today, my panties are my preferred place to move my bowels. Because my punishment for this one and other poop messes are seldom pleasant (I have been punished many times for my "accidents") I have to be careful about enjoying my fetish.
Most of the time, I have no choice but to go in the toilet. But the times that I do get to mess myself are well worth waiting for. Hopefully, society will no longer look down on women who go to the bathroom in their panties.
Written By: Hannah
Age: