Posted by Melissa on January 18, 2004 at 11:17 [67.81.214.51]
I was thinking of cutting back on my fruit and fiber rich diet because it had been a little too effective in making my motions softer. Well, last week was also the last straw on this issue and I can tell you there will be a lot less fruit in our refrigerator and a lot fewer boxes of bran cereals in our kitchen closet from now on. It was around 7 p.m. and, almost certainly because of a special sales event, business at the boutique had been very heavy all that evening. There were three of us working that night, Karen, Ceesha and myself. I had already felt the faint need to go to the bathroom several times throughout the afternoon and evening but feeling that I didn't have time to sit on the toilet had simply held it in and shrugged it off each time. Ceesha, a very pretty black girl with an often delightfully naughty, even indiscreet turn of phrase brushed past me with an armful of clothes rescued from the changing room whispering, "Will this ever let up? I'm dying for a s**t". I laughed and continued picking up clothing from the floor that had become casualties of customer rummaging. Karen, the hustler among the three of us, had been non-stop with customers all evening and was now noticeably tired and irritable. I noticed Karen was busy with yet another customer when a soft "Excuse me" startled me. I turned, "Do you have any short double slit skirts?", a lady I would guess about the same age as me - maybe a year or two older, smiled. "Yes, this way", I dropped the clothing I was holding to the floor and headed across the store looking back to make sure she was still with me. I found several skirts on the rack and took one to show her. "Oooh yes", she hesitated examining the garment carefully, "do you have anything a little shorter, maybe like you're wearing?" It so happened that my skirt was from the very same rack and I soon found her size. "This one is 16 inches long, it's got front and back darts and a double slit at the front and it comes in a stretch twill."
Even as I was handing her the skirt I felt the urge to use the bathroom build in my rear and I instinctively squeezed my hole shut to wait for the pressure to die away. She liked the style and we found the color (Khaki) she was looking for, and it was the last one in stock, but now she wanted to look at twin sets that were two racks over. I wasn't too happy because I was still squeezing and I didn't feel altogether confident about walking even that short distance with my poo being so insistent about coming out. I tried to walk as naturally as possible, convinced that she would notice my thighs rubbing together and my rather short steps as I fought to squeeze and walk at the same time. I was beginning to get distinctly worried in case I really had to leave her for the bathroom before she had found all she needed. We reached the twin sets without incident. I leaned on the rack and crossed my legs trying to look as innocuous as possible while I fought to regain control of ! things. Once more the pressure eased off just enough to let me know it wasn't coming out this time. She quickly picked out a wine colored set and to my surprised relief said,"Oh this is gorgeous, and you've got plenty here". Then looking anxiously at her watch she continued "I'm in a hurry right now so why don't I take the skirt and I'll come back for the other stuff tomorrow". I readily agreed, and with a haste that must have been obvious, took her to the check out.
I scanned the bar code tag but before I even folded the garment to put it in the bag I felt the pressure build again. I could feel my poo making its way down, filling the space behind my ring. My lower tummy started to push and I felt the strain driving the pressure on my ring close to bursting point. Hoping the counter would provide some concealment I gladly crossed my legs as tightly as I could and stood there squeezing with all my might. Another straining spasm gripped me and yet more poo came down relentlessly pushing so hard on the inside of my ring I could tell that I was absolutely full and I knew I couldn't hold it back for much longer. I suddenly realized I had finished folding the skirt and became acutely aware that my face was betraying the battle I was fighting against my poo. I forced my expression to relax and thankfully as I did the strain eased off and I felt the pain inside my ring dull slowly to a mere ache. I sensed my poo reluctantly retreat deeper inside and with it went the desperate sense of dire urgency which had consumed me just seconds before. I still didn't feel sure enough that I could uncross my legs, but at least I could ease off the tremendous effort I had been making to hold my ring closed. So in a very ungainly way I kept my legs crossed and leaned over awkwardly to retrieve a bag from one of the shelves under the counter. Putting her purchase in the bag, I took her credit card, swiped it and waited for the authorization to start printing the receipt. I looked up and noticed the store was empty except for two customers who were being looked after by Karen. Ceesha was nowhere to be seen.
The checkout printer clattered into life and spat out its offering which I tore off and handed to the customer. I hadn't even uncrossed my legs, I was still rooted to the same spot and once more my tummy went into a spasm. I felt my rectum fill so fast I thought it would explode as I fought to hold my poo back. Each time the pressure had returned it had been more and more insistent and even though my ring had not opened, it had yielded just a little more each time. This time there was no hiding the expression on my face and as my customer handed me back the sighed receipt she said "I won't mind if you have to go out back, someone else can finish off" I tried to smile "I'm O.K., I can wait". I wasn't at all sure that I could wait, but I knew I was almost through. "No really, I've been in exactly the same position, it's awful, I work at ********* Jewelers at the far end on the ground level, believe me I know how bad it can get". She signed her receipt hurriedly, separated the two copies for me, and with a look of compassion whispered, "Go, before you do it in your panties" and at that she smiled once more, turned and made for the door. I was still squeezing for all my might when I felt a sharper pain in my ring and in spite of all my conscious effort I just couldn't hold it completely shut. With helplessness I felt a small soft lump squirm its way out before my hole was able to clamp shut again. The store was empty now, the last two customers had left and I shouted across to Karen, "I'm going to the bathroom, I might be a while". The spasm was beginning to ease off and very carefully I walked slowly to the bathroom all the time feeling the small lump of poo just on the outside of my ring as it was squashed in my crack. I made it to the bathroom door and with expectation and relief pushed it wide open.
My heart sank, there was Ceesha with her little skirt hoisted high above her waist and her blue panties around her knees leaning over and grunting with exertion. "Oh No!", I exclaimed in horror, "Ceesha, I'm going in my panties, how long are you going to be?" She groaned again, let out a sigh and looked up at me. "Melissa, I'm taking a s**t!" "Ceesha!" I cried, "hurry up". "You're always going in your panties, use the ladies room at the end" she replied skeptically. If there was one thing I was sure of it was that I would never be able to make it to the public toilet at the end of the mall. The tension was too much and even as Ceesha's brow began to furrow as another strain gripped her body I felt my own poo begin to move again. I crossed my legs and braced for the contest I knew was about to follow. The first wave hit me and I closed my eyes groaning loudly as I put all my effort into keeping my hole closed. The pain backed off but I knew it would be back, more insistent than ever. But in the brief respite Ceesha looked up again and a loud cry and a noisy splash made it obvious that she had at last managed to rid herself of a major portion of her discomfort. "Oh, that's better" she sighed, "Come on, quickly!" She stood up from the toilet and grabbing my arm almost pulled me around to stand in front of the waiting bowl. I hesitated, completely taken by surprise and looked at Ceesha blankly. "Come on get your panties down before I need to do some more", she commanded. I put my hands up my skirt and pulled down my panty hose and panties together, waiting in horror to see how dirty they were. To my surprise there was not a mark in them and lifting my skirt I sat down on the toilet seat still warm from Ceesha's rear. The strain hit me almost immediately and as my butt filled I leaned forward, relaxed my ring and surrendered myself to the building pressure. I started to pee furiously and I felt my ring start to open but the pressure was now turning into pain and nothing, not even the tip, had started to make its way out. The strain built and I cried out "Ohhhh! in agony as at last I felt my poo emerge from my hole. Once it started, the tremendous pressure kept it coming, rubbing against my tortured ring as it came out. It was all over in 5 or 6 seconds but each second seemed like an eternity as my hole was forced to stay open almost beyond endurance and somewhere in the middle of this my pee dwindled to a last few drops.
My ring closed and the pain reduced to a residual feeling of soreness and a dull ache just inside. I was just beginning to sit up when Karen appeared at the door. Neither Ceesha nor I had even realized the bathroom door was still open. "What are you doing?" Karen almost shouted. But before she could say any more her speech was interrupted by her own astonishment at the scene before her. Ceesha was standing with her skirt still hiked above her waist and her panties still around her knees. I was sitting on the toilet with my skirt up and my panties also around my knees. Karen glanced from Ceesha, whom she regarded from head to toe and back again, to me and continued her speech. "Anyone in the store could hear you, and if you have to go to the bathroom together you might close the door!", she continued with just a slight hint of contempt in her voice. Karen looked Ceesha up and down once more and left, slamming the door behind her. Neither Ceesha nor I said a single word.
I reached for the toilet paper and tore off a strip, folding it onto a thick pad. I knew I was messy so leaning forward and reaching behind I gently rubbed around my hole until I felt a small flattened lump still sticking to my cheek. It came away quite easily in the pad and I dropped the tissue into the toilet. I tore off another pad and handed it to Ceesha. "Can you make it damp under the faucet?", I asked. She did as I requested and handed me the moistened pad. The coolness felt good around my ring, which still harbored a vague ache, but the damp pad did its work well and cleaned up most of the mess in my rear. Again I didn't look at the pad but tore off another and once more Ceesha moistened it for me. I wiped again and this time looked to see just how much mess remained. The pad was almost clean and one more did the trick. I took one last dry tissue and wiped between my legs and stood up. "My turn", said Ceesha and she took my place at the toilet. As I pulled up my panties, Ceesha took a handful of tissue and bending over wiped her behind and dropped the tissue into the bowl. I pulled up my panty hose and looked at Ceesha as she pulled her panties up and adjusted her skirt. We both laughed and looked into the bowl. Of course there wasn't much to see except lots and lots of tissue but I knew by the sound of Ceesha's poop splashing into the pan followed by the huge lump that had put my little hole through so much agony that the bowl must have been absolutely full. I flushed the toilet and luckily in one gurgling rush it all disappeared.
Ceesha and I looked at each other and laughed loudly again as we opened the bathroom door and made our way back on to the sales floor. Karen turned and glared at us from across the store but said nothing. Ceesha turned her back to Karen and whispered to me "Little Miss Snooty Nose probably thinks her s**t doesn't stink" and at that strolled over to check the changing rooms for clothing.
It's clear to me that my new diet is working, maybe even working too well. The problem is that everything is softer now and I seem to have less control. So I've decided to back off and hopefully find a happy medium between the very firm long poops I used to have which took forever to come out, and the new soft poops which seem all to quick to come out - even when I don't want them to.
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