Posted by Alex on September 12, 2000 at 08:18
This is the continuation of my fantasy story, Flatulemia. In Part 1 I told how my doctor, Allison Staines, has now prescribed a rather unusual and surprising treatment to cure me of Flatulemia, a gastric disorder. The treatment consists of farting in my pants and, incidentally, shitting and pissing in them as the need arises. Today was my first day on this treatment.
Byh the way, although the story involving the doctor is all invented, the following account of my shitting and pissing in my pants this morning is quite true to the facts. While I was doing it I was playing through my mind the fantasy that is described in this story, making it all the more exciting!
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I had already let my boss know I was off for a week. After a copious morning pee in the toilet, my next task was to select some suitable clothes for the morning, bearing in mind what the doctor had told me. For underwear I picked out one of several white brief underpants I had stashed away that were full of dried yellow piss stains and, in most cases, some pale brown discolouring of the whole crotch area too, where shit stains from earlier sessions of panty pooping had not come out even after washing. The pair I chose were golden yellow all across the front and sort of beige in the crotch area. In fact, I bought this pair of underpants last year for the sole purpose of wetting and soiling them, and they certainly showed it. But they were dry and did not smell or look dirty, except for the stains. They hugged my crotch, penis and ass rather nicely.
Next I put on my khaki shorts, which I bought at the beginning of summer and wore most days while away. They reach down to just below the knees, with several pockets at the sides, down the legs and at the back. I only washed them once during the summer and had not chance to pee or shit in them, but I had noticed that I kind of liked the way they tended to vaguely hug the shape of my cock and balls without it being obvious, especially when worn for a while without washing. I decided some time ago that one day I would give these shorts a good inauguration. If you read this board you know what that means. Well, today was going to be that day.
I drank a couple of cups of tea and sat on an easy chair on my balcony in the morning cool, smoking a cigarette. This made me feel like farting so, following my instructions, I farted frequently into my pants and the chair as I sat there. I smoked a second cigarette in the same way.
Then I started to realise that I needed to poop. I didn't rush into that, but carried on trying to fart, but my ability to fart without pooping steadily reduced, until all I was getting was tiny gas bubbles and then none at all, just a sensation of the presence of poop inside me that was ready to come out sooner rather than later. I tried to distract myself by reading, but I definitely wanted to poop now. Remembering my doctor's instructions about this, I carefully released a small poop into the seat of my pants while remaining firmly seated with my legs tightly crossed. My desire to let it go was so great that, without lifting myself even slightly off the chair as I sometimes have to do, I pushed and felt my shit easing out. It felt glorious.
After enjoying the feeling for a bit, I pushed to fart again, but what came out was more of my shit, which started spreading out inside my underpants. By gently feeling through my khaki shorts from the outside I could tell that it was a fairly soft and lovely, warm shit that I was taking in my pants.
Before long I was pushing again and filling the seat of my pants with more shit, lots more shit. Experience told me that my underpants were getting full, and since I wasn't in jeans, the load would not be held firmly in place if I changed postures.
But at this point my attention was distracted from that problem by another: some time had passed since my early visit to the bathroom, and suddenly I was bursting to pee again. In fact, I felt that I wouldn't be able to shit without peeing. Clearly the best thing to do would be to piss into my pants.
I looked down at my crotch as I let out a long but still controlled spurt of pee into my dirty underwear and shorts. The khaki cloth darkened nicely and started clinging to my cock. Approving the effect, I repeated it with some more pee.
At this stage I knew that if I continued like this any further I was going to have a big mess on my hands when I finally stood up. I got out of the chair and walked through my apartment, with my load in my wet pants, heading for the bathroom.
I didn't get even that far, before a piece of soft sticky shit, which had already escaped the inside of my briefs and embedded itself in the leg of my khaki pants, rolled down my left leg and, brushing my slipper, landed with a thud on the living room floor. I then realised that not only my briefs but the insides of the legs of my khaki shorts too were already full of loads of yukky brown poop similar to the piece that had fallen out.
This gave me a hard-on, but I knew I should do something to limit the damage, so I hurried to the bathroom to get some toilet paper with which to wipe up my turd on the floor. Unfortunately, on my way to the bathroom and back to the living room, some further smaller pieces of shit fell out of my shorts at different points. I took more paper and bent down to wipe these up, but I had inadvertently trodden on some shit somewhere and realised I was spreading it on the floor as I walked, so I had to go back for more paper again, wipe my slippers, then wipe the smudges of shit on the floor.
This was making me nervous, but then I stopped to focus my mind on the feeling of my shit all over the inside of my underpants and on part of my khaki shorts, squishing against my ass as I bent down to wipe up. The feeling of naughtiness and filth was so enjoyable that I didn't mind having to clean up. But to avoid more problems, I decided I should put on a pair of levis on top of my khaki shorts, so that any further shit escaping my shorts would land in my jeans rather than on the floor.
The jeans I put on were slightly damp around the crotch, with pee, because I had wet my pants while out with friends, and more, much more, on the way home afterwards, a few nights ago, arriving home with my jeans soaked. I was drunk and stoned at the time, which may or may not excuse this, but in any case certainly contributed to my enjoyment of the pissing experience at the time I was performing it. Then, on getting home, I had hidden away the wet clothes and finally hung them up briefly, with my piss still in the crotch, to dry some more. Now I grabbed them and slipped them on in their new capacity as external nappies, so to speak.
Getting the jeans on and buttoned up didn't mean I didn't need to pee any more; in fact I was nearly desparate once again. So I sat back down on my balcony chair, with my load firmly held in my pants, and let go a long stream of piss, watching the front of my jeans glisten as I peed and thinking about what my "virgin" khaki shorts would look like now, if I could see them.
After giving my jeans, my khakis and my shit-laden briefs a good wetting, though not completely emptying my bladder, I sat at my computer and went on the Internet. Over the next few hours I rewet my pants numerous times and pushed some more shit into them too.
At one point I went into the toilet, unbuttoned and took down my jeans, rewet my khaki shorts a bit, and sat on the toilet with the hard lid down. I ground my filthy ass into the toilet lid and felt my big load of shit squelching around inside my pants. It felt fantastic and I masturbated to a great orgasm, showering cum on my teeshirt and my khaki pants. Then I pulled my jeans back up, buttoned them, wiped the brown stains that had seeped through onto the toilet seat, and came back to the computer.
After several more hours enjoying my loaded and soaked pants, I returned to the bathroom, took of my jeans, and peeped inside my shorts, observing that brown shit stains had spread all the way up the front of my underpants covering the whole length of my cock, in fact, up to the elastic band at the top of my briefs. I placed a mirror where, standing in the bathtub, I could admire the disgusting state of my shorts or underpants in all their glory, then climbed into the empty bath, went on playing with myself. Sometimes I lowered my khaki shorts until their elastic waistband was just below my shit-covered cock in front and pressed delicately but delightfully into the load of shit still firmly wedged under my ass, pushing the load into my ass-crack inside my briefs. I saw, I felt, and I masturbated.
Other times I pulled my shorts back up firmly and masturbated through them and my shitty briefs.
At last I lay full out in the bathtub and masturbated wildly while repeatedly squeezing my poop through the pissy, shitty crotch of my khaki shorts, until I ejaculated a second load of semen all over myself. Then I peeled off my thoroughly shitty clothes and showered.
Tomorrow I have to take my briefs in for the doctor to see. Maybe I should take the shorts too, as the inside of the left leg in particular is absolutely covered in brown poop.
This treatment lasts for a week, and it's going to be a fun week indeed! And Allison Staines is my kind of doctor!
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