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The Toilet

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To answer Bill some of us do prefer stockings and suspenders to tights
for more than one reason. A girl feels kind of more desirable with the
secret that they are wearing exiting undies. Panties,(we often call them
pants in UK), are more easily pulled down in an emergency for toileting
and finally, in warm weather the gusset of ones knickers suffers less
than when they are encased with tights which cause restriction. As the
material does not breathe so easily and in very hot weather a girl may
have to change herself more often because of the sticky discomfort and
smell. In UK, and I would have thought sensible anywhere despite what has
been shown in the movies and stories from men who do don’t know what they
are talking about, it is usual to wear ones panties over the top of the
suspenders and other kit to make that fast pull-down more convenient. I
think there is nothing more frustrating than experiencing welcome relief
from a big purge but standing in front of the toilet kno! wing you are
doing it in your underpants and mucking yourself, believe me, I know. So
the form is suspender belt or open girdle and suspenders, usually one at
the front and another at the back of each leg, attached and clipped to
top of stocking tops, then knickers pulled up over the top so that the
suspenders go through the leg of ones knicks and will stretch and
contract as the girl walks. You must not confuse my term open girdle with
a panty girdle which is a different type and more modern garment and is
usually worn over the tights, I do wear one of these sometimes. Although
I am not overweight, have an excellent figure and don’t need the extra
control afforded by a girdle or panty girdle, I find all these undies
more interesting and a girl can feel her figure being hugged when wearing
these items. However, a panty girdle is very restricting and although
these do have a gusset of their own, I find it better to wear a small
pair of knickers underneath, as these are more ! easy to wash and there
is nothing worse than seeing a woman’s badly stained panty girdle on a
washing line where the marks in the gusset will not remove. As a matter
of history pantyhose or tights, we call these, arrived when skirts became
very short some years ago. Also came the panty girdle, for those who
liked or needed to wear a girdle, which gave a girl a more streamline
underwear system to suite the higher hem-line. Don’t forget we had to
learn to manage a short skirt in public, bending and sitting. I remember,
even before mini skirts, my mother telling me that wherever you are will
be a dirty old man, sometimes younger ones, trying to see what is up your
skirt. I had a friend who, when mini skirts became fashionable started to
wear a micro one. We were both 19 at the time. She got some fun flashing
her knickers by bending down in front of boys and sitting carelessly so
that men in front of her got a good eyeful. She would often gradually
open her legs more and more as ! it became obvious they were interested .
We once had a laugh when sitting in a pub, a man who could not get his
bins away from looking right up Penny’s skirt to the gusset of her little
blue knicks forgot himself and suddenly shat his trousers, I suppose from
neglecting his toilet, being otherwise engaged! (excuse the pun). I was
too shy to flash owing to my liking for wearing stocking but have found
myself sitting accidentally carelessly on occasions and usually could
tell when a man opposite would start furtively showing an interest, most
males are so predictable! Anyway Penny, who liked to show off a really
tight figure, always wore a panty girdle over her tights but with little
knickers under the tights for the reason I mentioned before. Actually
Penny was a very active girl and as a result changed her knickers at
least twice a day as they would soon become too sticky. However, she did
not like the idea of showing men that she was wearing a panty girdle, I
suppose she wa! nted then to think her figure was all her own work, so
she always wore another pair of knickers over the panty girdle. So to
recap, under her very short skirt Penny had a little pair of nylon
knickers, a pair of shear tights, a control panty girdle and finally
another pair of panties over all of that. I remember saying jokingly to
her one day, “You will be well covered if you shit yourself”. We both
collapsed with laughing. However, divine justice lurks! One afternoon it
happened walking back from an extended session in the Pub. We were both
tipsy and somewhat unsteady, however, I thought I was more far gone than
Penny. We still had a long way to walk when Penny said she urgently
needed the lavatory. I asked her which one she needed to do wondering if
she just wanted a wee. She replied, looking very worried, “A much bigger
job than you think”. We walked on but I was aware the Penny by now had a
look of panic in her face and was holding the back of her skirt with one
hand! covering the area of her bottom. She declared “Oh my god let me get
there in time”. Then she stopped and I walked on a bit thinking with
concern for her that she may just want to fart, we are actually very
private people. But when I looked back she was still not walking, her
legs were a bit apart but now looking absolutely shocked she called me
back, and said very urgently, “Carol, please don’t laugh I think I have
just shit myself”. I went back to her and asked her if she was sure and
she said putting her hand just up her skirt at the back of her knickers
and panty girdle, “I am almost sure I know I have, yes I have. Dam it
I’ve mucked my pants, (remember for us theses are panties), I have
totally messed”. I asked her if she had done it really bad and how it was
and she said that she had filled her knickers and it was like a very
large soft pancake. She started to walk awkwardly, remember we were a bit
pissed as well. I told her to try to keep her knees together. Sh! e was
quite angrily cursing her carelessness saying “I have messed my panty
girdle and everything”. She did it in her knickers again before we
reached home and blurted, “Oh god, shit, some of it’s even gone up my
back”. Well I suppose she was well covered but certainly had a load of
underwear washing to do after cleaning herself up. She was in an awful
mess. I wonder if is was such a good idea to wear so many items under a
skirt.

I intended to post here anyway to confess that at 18 years old I
regularly drink far more alcohol than I really should which has on
numerous occasions resulted in arriving home the worst for wear, quite
drunk and with dirty knickers. However, after reading some of the letters
I must hasten to add that these are all true accidents. In no way do I
enjoy finding myself in this situation and to be quite honest I would not
purposely shit myself for anyone or for all the money in the world. I
hate the feeling when I know that I have done it and although a drunken
state creates a feeling of gay abandon, afterwards I am somewhat ashamed
and wish that I had been able to effect more control. But it happens and
although I don’t know much about other females because I have never
discussed this matter, I do hear it is very common among young men,
particularly after the excitement of rugby and football matches, to have
big drinking bouts and getting so far gone and often leg-less that so!
iled underpants are a common result. With me it is a more private matter,
I have publicly disgraced myself in the past, but I think now my system
has adjusted to large amounts of drink, I do not get leg-less but there
are times I realise that I have lost control and filled my pants
requiring a major clean-up when I get home. I know I will have to do
something about my drinking habits quite soon as my reflexes seem to be
not as they were. Last week ago I woke up after a particularly big
session the night before feeling more than just hung over. I reluctantly
got dressed in a black pleated skirt, light blue nylon knickers and some
tights. I don’t often wear a skirt and of the knickers and tights I had
worn these the day before. I could not face even coffee, decided not to
report for college but started to walk to the local shop for a newspaper
and, because I had not done my washing and had run out of fresh knickers,
to purchase some paper panties which can be got in a pack of ! five. On
the way I realised my bowels wanted to move, remembering that it was
unusual with such a big drinking session that I had arrived home the
night before in clean knickers my internal system was beginning to get
its own back. A girl I know stopped me to talk, we used to be in the same
class when we attended grammar school. I was not really feeling up to it
but she insisted and I couldn’t be bothered to anything but stand there
and listen. She was going on and on about her new boyfriend lots and lots
of details and I was just getting bored out of my mind. Now I think about
it I may have been still slightly pissed from the night before. My
stomach started to feel peculiar, my bowels felt very full and suddenly
thought, I think I am going to shit myself ! Now this is very difficult
to explain unless you were feeling the way I was. I did not want to do
it, specially in front of her, and I could have stopped myself from
making a mess in my panties if I had really tried to ho! ld it. But I
really couldn’t decide one way or the other. Although it was not
diarrhoea it needed no effort or push on my part, it just all came out so
easily and somehow I just allowed a large load of poop slide out of me
which filled my panties spewed out of both my knickers legs and soiled
the whole of the panty section of my tights and the top of my thighs,
messing up the back of my skirt as well. However it didn’t happen
quietly, she was still talking away until that burping spluttering
splattering sound from the back of my skirt which seemed to go on for
such a long time. The effect upon her was quite devastating. She stopped
talking, her mouth gapped open and she looked in shock. She muttered
something I don’t even know what it was. I said quietly I have just had
an accident. Her eyes opened in disbelief and she enquired if I had done
something in my pants. I was really fed up by then and not too pleased
with what had happened and blurted out, “You can put it that wa! y if you
like, but to put it another way I have just properly shit my myself, I
have filled my knickers, messed up my tights and skirt.” She exclaimed oh
no, surly you new you were doing it, why didn’t you stop? I told her
maybe she was carrying on so much I thought I should give her something
interesting to tell her boyfriend. She said “Oh how can you do something
so disgusting and out in the street too”. I felt really pissed and told
her it was very easy and she should try it some time in front of her nice
boyfriend. She walked off telling me this was quite disgraceful and I
waddled off back home without going to the shop and without the paper
panties I needed now more than ever. I don’t think we will ever speak to
each other again. I won’t miss much but she might. This would have been
the end of my posting but I feel a need to appeal about a related matter.
I have confessed that arriving home from the pub, unsteady, quite drunk
and realising I have used my pants for the toilet is all too familiar.
But this is my problem which should not be made worse by men who take
advantage. To give an example of this, I was walking home two days ago
from a whole evening at my local hostelry absolutely pissed. I know that
I nearly walked off the pavement into the road a few times and bumped
into a few lamp posts, I was having difficulty waking in a straight line.
But, in my own way I was making some progress and new I would arrive home
sometime, somehow. Some bloke in the pub had offered to drive me home in
his car and I almost excepted until in the pub entrance lobby he touched
me up, obviously taking advantage because I was drunk. I was wearing
loose fitting trousers and had some tights over my little knickers so he
didn’t get his hand into much but it was too much for me without asking
my permission. By the way this is why I have alre! ady said that I don’t
often wear a skirt. I am convinced that some men are such cowards they
wouldn’t touch a woman in the street, pub or in the office for fear of
criminal prosecution even though they are lusting to do so. But get a
girl on her own who has become disadvantaged because of drink and they
get so bold and think they can get away with just anything and they often
do. I once saw a chap in the pub car park one night with his hand so far
pressed up the skirt right into the crotch of a drunk girl he was
pretending to escort, she had tears in her eyes but was quite unable to
prevent him exploring with all his might. She told me latter that he had
managed to get his hand inside her knickers. He did not know that I had
seen this and when he had done what he wanted he just walked off sniffing
his fingers leaving the unfortunate girl in a daze. I helped her adjust
her underwear and got her a taxi with a female driver. Back to that other
night, the man who touched me earlier, had a painful reward but even I
was incapable of a fight so was glad when he disappeared. However I had
not stumbled too far along the road when I recognised the familiar
wetness in the seat of my pants and underneath me. When one is so
inebriated, (I am glad I can still spell that), it is not always possible
to work out all that is going on. I hoped and thought that I had just
pissed myself. Sometimes I am unsure what has happened and my first task
on getting inside the door of my flat is to lean against the wall, so not
to fall over, just lower my trousers to the top of my thighs, enough to
just drop my pants to inspect the damage to my knickers gusset and inside
of my trousers. Often, I am only able to discover whether I have pissed
myself or shit myself on examination when I get home. A big difference I
know, but try it when your drunk! Anyway, this time I kept walking but
put my hand to the back of my pants, (just realised that these are
panties in American), inside the seat of my trousers and felt something
not too wet but quite sticky and on examination my fingers were stained.
Dam, I had messed my knickers by shitting myself, I thought no big deal,
just another time. Its best not to cry over spilt milk or in this case
cream in the panties and joking thought if only I got paid a £1 every
time I do this I’d be a wealthy young girl! I nearly walked off the
pavement again and then narrowly missed another lamp post, I was aware
how unsteady I was. Then all of a sudden without warning I did a big
load, filling the seat of my knickers and making a bulge which protruded
the back of my trousers. There was no mistaking that one I started to be
able to smell it to. I had shit myself again but a really big job this
time this time and it will be even more difficult to walk. I thought this
must be the largest panty load I have ever managed and wondered if there
could be a prize, there was. I gingerly put my hand to the back of the
trousers, on the outside this time, my fingers detected the bulge. It was
like a huge soft pancake but seemed evenly placed around my bottom and,
between my legs it did not feel as if any had yet come through the
elastic of the legs of my knickers. Hopefully, I thought, the top of my
legs would not become soiled. As I have said I do not enjoy this
happening but always do try to limit the damage. I estimated that if I
walked more carefully, although more slowly, I would eventually get home
without too much discomfort. The one thing I must not do tonight is loose
my balance and fall over. That would really soil or mess everything I had
got on. So, I have stumbled and half waddled on my way home. I heard some
footsteps overtaking me and an older man was at my side saying that he
was most concerned for me as I appeared so unsteady and declared that he
should look after me and see me home. I thought oh no, not another one.
He did the usual question time just to be sure of his ground and as we
stumbled on , now with his arm around my shoulder, asked I had been
drinking too much, was I really drunk and how far did I have to go, if I
was on my own and maybe he should come home with me to put me to bed. I
had heard it all before! He was just making sure that he could safely
suggest rude things maybe try something on, whatever he could get away
with, you can read these people like a book. I was surprised he could not
smell that I had soiled myself but supposed he was thinking up his plan.
This all sounds silly but when you are far gone with drink, you know you
have shit yourself, you were not in a fit state to work thing out and you
just let things go on. I don’t even remember what he looked like. I told
him yes I was pissed out of my mind, I did have a log way to go and no
there wasn’t anyone waiting for me. If I had be more in possession I
should have said I only live round the corner where my policeman
boyfriend would be waiting at the door. But I fell right into his hands,
I was blown out of my mind but I did say that I was used to this and
could manage on my own thank you very much and please take your arm away
from my shoulder. He told me he had a daughter my age so I had nothing to
be afraid of. He said an attractive young girl should be much more
cautious drinking too much and told me to be very careful not to wet my
knickers. I suppose saying that to me gave him a thrill. I still do not
know why he could not smell me as it appeared later he just did not know.
Then still with one arm around me he asked me if I had wet my pants and
patted his other hand on my bum outside the back of my trousers. I just
did not have the energy to even push him away but thought, here we go
again! Looking back I think he was waiting until he was sure no one was
walking nearby and no cars were passing on the road. All of a sudden he
revealed his dirty plan and what he did next took me completely by
surprise. He moved his hand pushing his fingers still outside my
trousers, underneath me from behind pressing his fingers hard into me and
reaching right forward to the front part of my vagina, pushing the crotch
of my trousers and gusset of my underwear right up inside my bottom and
my vagina and wriggling his fingers as he groped me very hard. He was
after a quick one feeling as much of my parts as possible in detail. As
he slid his fingers from reaching far at the front towards the back he
treated himself to a detailed feel of my undercarriage now that my pants
and things were right inside me. What he had not bargained for is he had
squashed my mess so hard and some and leaked through the back of my
trousers all over his hand. Although I had not done diarrhoea it was
quite soft and he, without knowing what was there had squeezed it all
out. Realising now that his hand was in a load of mush and although wet
this was not wee, he snatched is hand away very quickly and at the same
time there was an awful stench coming from me and his dirty hand. He come
to that terrible realisation and shouted angrily oh you dirty fifthly
bitch and promptly waked off probably to secretly enjoy himself
somewhere. Here is proof of the performance of a coward, thrilled himself
by embarrassing a young girl with the fatherly pretence asking if she had
wet herself and would have no doubt been bold enough to politely enquire
if I had messed my pants. But when it appears that the dirty deed has
been really done and have embarrassed themselves and are off like a bat
out of hell. I knew that I was in a terrible muck. Shit was everywhere,
down my legs, into every crevice and opening underneath me, up my back,
right through my trousers at the back, the crotch and even right at the
front of then. It was so messy and uncomfortable I had to walk with my
legs wide apart and I stunk to high heaven and I felt sick. I new I had
been violated, seriously sexually assaulted, but what could I do. Imagine
the newspape! rs, it would make the nationals. Young female of 18 years
drinks too much, shits herself and then claims it was made worse by an
indecent assault! I got home at last, waddled my way across the hall and
to the stairs leading to my flat. Old Harry waiting by the door of his
ground floor flat. Once on the way to the laundrette I left my black sack
of clothes for washing at the bottom while I went back upstairs to use
the toilet, I had bee taken short again. I returned just in time to see
Harry examining the contents of the sack, he had some soiled panties in
his hand which I took off him. He said he wondered who the bag belonged
to. I later discovered I had lost three pairs of soiled knickers and one
pair of used tights. Anyway, there was dirty Harry all eyes on me, as boy
was I in a state, it was obvious what I had done. He tried to make a grab
at me and said, “You naughty girl, you are completely pissed and I can
see you have badly shit your pants”. I stepped aside to avoid another
experience there had been enough for one night and told him as I escaped
walking wide legged up the stairs. Okay big boy, I said, I have messed my
pants, soiled myself and shit my knickers terrible, but it was not helped
by a dirty old fart like you. Okay I appeal to you Male Knights in
Shining Armour, please don’t take advantage of the misfortunes of
defenceless young girls and please keep your dirty roving hands to
yourself.