French Girl Agony

The biggest shit I ever saw a woman do was when I was away at an event for my job. Our company had put us up in a hotel and there were days of meetings, meals, talks and the like.

We were joined by staff from our international offices, one was a french girl named Marie. I got to know her during the first few days, nice girl, very pretty. I kept finding exuses to talk to her, wondering if I should make a move.

At lunch on the third day she seemed quite uncomfortable. Nothing too serious but I could tell something was bothering her. From the way she looked it seemed to me that she was having occasional stomach pains.

“What’s up?”, I asked her, “It nothing, I good”, she replied in her cute broken English and returned to her lunch. As we talked she tried to keep her composure but I could tell she was having occasional discomfort.

On the fourth day I sat next to her in one of the talks. These are hour long sessions with a presenter on stage and an audience of about 200 people. Marie seemed very uncomfortable, she left to go to the toilet twice in an hour but came back as uncomfortable as she had left each time.

It was then that I put two and two together.

“Are you having trouble going?”, I asked, “My…here”, she said, rubbing her stomach. “Or something else?”, I asked. She visibly blushed, “No, nothing. It just the food here”. She spent the rest of the talk trying as hard as she could to sit still. She knew that I knew. She must have done. I felt bad for her so I decided to buy some laxatives on the way back to the hotel, just in case I could pass them on to her.

That evening we all had quite a big meal at the hotel, everyone had to attend. I talked with Marie beforehand, she seemed to be avoiding most people and conversations. She was still visibly distressed but trying to keep control of it. “Don’t eat much if you don’t want to”, I told her. “Of course, my ache here”, she said, touching her stomach again. “If it’s something else, I have medicine for that”, I told her. “What you mean?” she asked me. I nodded towards the womens restroom. “You know!”, she whispered, embarassed. “It very bad”, she told me, “I try but I cannot make go!”. She answered my next question before I asked it, “Five days”, as she experienced an urge which caused her to wince and moan. “First days I do nothing but eat”, she continued, “and now a this!”.

I told her not to worry and we sat next to each other at the meal. Maria clearly wasn’t too keen on eating but didn’t want to make a fuss or attract any attention so she ate anyway. I wondered how much worse this would make her situation, or if anyone else would realise the situation she was in. Towards the end of the meal she was unable to keep sitting still anymore, constantly rocking in her seat and clenching up. “I have to go!”, she suddenly exclaimed and ran out of the room towards the elevators to the bedrooms. I went after her and caught saw her waiting for the elevator to arrive, the poor woman was bent double and cluching her stomach with one hand while holdng her ass with the other. The elevator arrived and she got in and left.

Not long after I had returned to my room there was a knock at the door. It was Marie. “You have medicine?”, she asked as she entered the room. I gave her the laxative in water. “I stay here and go your toilet”, she said, “Why?”, I asked her, genuinely shocked. “On way here I walk people in corridor, they see me and stare, elevator also!”, she blurted. It occured to me that she must have walked across the hotel and up seven floors to get here. “I don’t go like this!”, she said. I imagined what people must have thought as she had made her way over her in visible distress.

I tried taking her mind of things but it was impossible. She could not stand still, never mind sit down. She would frequently sharply draw air though clenched teeth and squirm, “ow ow ow OWWW AAHH”, she cried and ran to the bathroom.

A minute or two passed and she returned. She was naked from the waist down. “WHAT IS WRONG!”, she shouted at me, “YOU LOOK! I DON’T CARE!”. She turned her back to me and bent over. Pulling her buttocks apart I saw her reddened, stretched anus. It was open to about the diameter of a can of beer across, but not open enough. The ouline of the gigantic shit could be been pushing the skin around her hole away from her body.

“This might hurt you”, I said. It was an understatement. “You think I am not know!?”, she replied, squirming and dancing around. “Can you close it?”, I asked, “NO!”, she blurted, “Try to”, I offered “I AM TRY TO!”. I couldn’t tell, The enormous wall of shit remained staring me in the face.

“Push”, I instructed her, “The medicine will make this easier”. She grunted and shook as she tried. The head of the turd made about a half-inch progress. Marie screamed out loud. “More medecine!”, she blurted at me, “Please”, as she used her right hand to force the monster back inside her.

I gave her more laxative. She spend the next half hour dancing around, cursing, squriming and grunting. She was trying desperately not to push, but the laxative was now coming on strong. She fell to her knees and rested her buttocks on her heels. Her back arched back and she cried out as the monster made progress again. Not much, but it was coming.

She reached down to push the shit back again. I grabbed her wrist, “No, don’t”. Her whole body shook as a powerful contraction hit her bowels. She was drenched in sweat and tears ran down her face. I knelt next to her, she griped my shoulders and screamed out as another urge came. It suddenly occured to me how surreal the situation was, here I am kneeling on the floor with an attractive woman clinging to me for dear life, with her crying and screaming as she births the biggest shit you can imagine.

We reamined like this until about two inches was out. I had an idea. There was no proper lubricant, but maybe we could use the shower. “Can you stand?”, I asked, “we can use water to help”. I helped her to the bathroom, there was no way she could have walked unaided. Once there I got her to kneel in the tub while I used the shower to try to loosen up the shit, get some water between her rectum walls and the huge mass if I could.

Whether it was that or the laxative, she made progress. For the next 15 minutes she cried and grunted as the monster slowly inched its way out. Eventually she got to the somewhat softer parts but it still hurt a lot. What all was done there wa an unbelievable amount of shit in the tub. It had to broken up and flushed away in 5 big parts.

Marie stayed with me all night. She was very happy to be relieved of the log, but let’s just say there was no anal.

(Please comment if you enjoyed, I love hearing from people with similar…interests ? )

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Responses

  1. Pink, maybe. But I’d let any woman that could produce logs like that drop them on my chest, or in her underwear, or wherever.

  2. One of my friend’s daughters used to do unbelievably big logs because she avoided going to the toilet for days on end. I didn’t realize she had the problem until the day we went to the local zoo. She told me she had gone before we left but it was obvious she was uncomfortable so I asked her what was wrong. When she told me what her problem was she also thought she might be going to have an accident because that what had usually happened before. She tried to go when we got to the zoo but still couldn’t do anything and surprised me by telling me she was just going to have to let it come out by itself.

    About an hour later she looked at me with a very realized look on her face and told me it had finally come out, then showed me. The log in her panties was unbelievably big and didn’t even seem possible to do. When I suggested she go to the toilet she again surprised me by telling me she was ok and wanted to wait until we got home. I am quite sure she was enjoying having it in her panties because when we left the zoo she asked if we could go to the marina to look at all the boats. It was obvious she thinking of stuff to do just and I pretended not to realize.

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