Holding on for an accident

I knew I was going to have the house to myself this Friday night as my partner was going to be away. I decided I would use this time alone to take a good, big shit. I find it much less stresful to be full and bursting, possibly to the point of having an accident, when I know I can be alone.

I took a dump on Monday evening, and decided I would not do it again until the Friday night.

Tuesday passed as any normal day except I ate a bit more than I normally would. I felt the urge to poo later in the day but it was a dull and easily ignored urge. A kind of “I could poo if I wanted to, but no big deal if I don’t” urge.

On wednesday I felt it right after breakfast but again it could be ignored. I noticed that after having lunch at work the urge came on a bit stronger but it was easy to fight off, so much so that I was mid-conversation with a co-worker who could never have suspected I needed to poo. This was an “I really should poo now, but no big deal if it’s inconvenient to” urge. After my evening meal I felt the urge come on again, but it was easy enough to fight it off until it subsided.

Thursday mornings breakfast brought urges that were a bit stronger, and which did not subside as quickly. Throughout the drive into work I felt uncomfortable but it got better when I arrived. That said, I could feel a noticeable heavyness to my bowels even when not urging to poo.

That day I went to lunch with the same group of co-workers I usually do. I felt some very uncomfortable urges come on before we had finished up, and one person actually asked me if something was wrong. I told them I was having a bit of back pain as that was the first thing that came to mind. That afternoon I started getting urges even between meals, stronger urges, which when you bear in mind I have a job that requires me to be on the phone a lot is not the most convenient thing.

It was during a call from a client that I went from “I could poo” to “I have to shit”, there’s a difference.
The caller was finishing up, summarising our conversation and making sure I had understood what she wanted when I felt the pressure come on. It was immediately followed by a stomach cramp.

“Yes, I’ll get on that and call you early next week”, I said, hoping to get her off the phone. We exchanged goodbyes and she hung up. Immediately I stood up and rubbed my abdomen. I felt quite dirty in a good way, holding in what was already a nice shit. I needed to go badly but it wasn’t unbearable, I just wouldn’t like to be face to face with someone and try to hide it.

Thursday evening was more difficult. My partner was mostly packing for his trip so I could stay out of his way, but after our evening meal as we were watching TV I started to feel it again. A stinging stomach ache and anal pressure which built until I had to pass gas. Even then the urge did not fully subside. I know my body, and I knew that these urges were unlikely to fully go now. The way I had felt on Tuesday evening, the dull urge, that was my new normal now.

Getting to sleep was tough as the urge to defecate occasionally flared up and my stomach cramped with it. I must have drifted off because the next thing I knew my partner was waking me to kiss goodbye as he headed out on his trip away. I got up and showered, noticing the urge to shit was constant, not always bad, and often somewhat easilly ignored, but always there.

As I dried off I felt a big strong urge to empty my bowels, as I fought it off I though about the reality of going through a full workday like this. I looked over to the toilet, imagined the relief I would feel if I just went now. But it wouldn’t be an accident. It wouldn’t feel as naughty.

That thought stayed with me a while, “Why does it feel naughty?”, “Why do I enjoy the naughtiness of holding?”. I figured I would explore these feeling more when I arrived home after work, alone, and dying to shit by then.

I made my way into work on the bus, because fuck driving at this point. What if I had an uncontrollable urge while driving? What if I crashed? I imagined the newspaper headline – “Local woman found injured in car filled with shit”.

The morning passed agonisingly slowly, the urge to shit was never going to go away now, not completely. This was my body saying “Either shit, or I’ll do it for you”. I thought about what I’d do if I was home, pace around rubbing my abdomen, clench my toes, hands, and teeth. It was only when someone entered my office that I realised I was acting these thoughts out.

“Hey Leia, can you…are you alright?”. It was the colleague who had asked if something was wrong at lunch the day before. “Yes, it’s just my back, remember I told you…”, I trailed off as the urge to shit hit me like a truck. I couldn’t help but squirm around but I managed to clasp my hands to my lower back rather than my abdomen. “Remember I told you…”, I started. To my horror at this point he came closer and put a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s fine really”, I said, “I have painkillers in my desk, anyway I need to make a call”. I just wanted him to leave. He explained that the client from yesterday had called back, and could I call them. “Are you sure you’re up to it? Maybe you should go home?”, he continued. I know he was only concerned, and he thought he was doing the right thing, but as the contents of my anus surged forwards I slammed myself into my chair, picked up the phone, and motioned him out of the room.

As soon as he left I stood and shut the door, leaning against it as I felt my anus surge. It’s a weird feeling, and you’ll only know it if you’ve held shit in for a long time. A painful force, stinging almost, as your sphincter slams shut against a log that it should by all rights never be holding back.

I had to call this client back though, and it occured to me that I’d been desperate on the phone more than once before. I could do this. I called her back. She wanted to make some changes to what we were designing for her, nothing major, just different colors and wording on a bit of graphic design. I tried to keep my responses to “Uh huh”‘s and “Yeah OK”‘s. All the time I was fidgeting like crazy, grinding my heels against the carpet and clenching everything, squirming in my seat and feeling my anus begin to twitch despite me clenching it.

“Can you let me know what the cost would be for that?”, the client said. “Sure, can you hold?”, I replied as calmly as I could. “If you could just tell me quickly that’d be great”, she said, “I have to get on with other things and I’d like this done asap”.

Great. I gave her a figure and we exchanged goodbyes. Slamming the phone down I stood and bent over my desk, realising that I was sweating, realising that the pressure to shit was not going away or getting less urgent. I felt that if I could fart then maybe things would subside so I sat back down and let my anus slowly open, feeling it peel around the head of the log. It felt excruciatingly dirty, not to mention painful as I felt my knickers being pushed against my skirt, which itself was pushed into the seat.

No gas came. My stomach cramped hard and my anus stung fiercely, but no gas. It occured to me that there was no way I could make it all the way home. This was “You are going to shit really soon, like it or not”. A real accident! So much for pacing around my house in privacy. Nevertheless I reached between my legs and pushed the tip back, snapping myself shut behind it.

Why did I wait so many days? Why not just one day less!

I knew it was all but over at this point. I waddled over to my office door and locked it, thanking my lucky stars that I’m senior enough to have that luxury. I thought that I could probably make it home if I left now, I thought about bus times, about somehow walking out of the building without having to speak to anyone. Wondering if bringing the car would have been better after all, dreading shitting myself on the bus!

My thoughts were interrupted by a massive urge to shit, sending me bent at the knees and waist. I instinctively reached between my legs and clasped my fingers over my anus through my knickers, feeling the log emerge as I was powerless to stop it. I knew there was no getting out of this now. Of course I could keep my hand there forever but did I really want to spend the day in agony?

My coworkers would be going to lunch soon. I’d hold on till then. At least then I stood a chance of getting the shit out of my office to a toilet for disposal without running into anyone.

I shoved the monster back inside. I paced, I squirmed, I clenched. I tried sitting down, standing. I tried thinking about other things.
Someone tried the door handle, then knocked when it didn’t open. “Leia, we’re going to lunch now”.

“I’m staying here today”, I said, more breathlessly that I would have liked, “I don’t feel up to it”.

“Are you sure?”, came the reply.

“Yes”, I shouted back.

“Can we get you anything?”, he said.

“No, I’m fine”, I replied.

“Ok see you in the afternoon”, he said walking away.

I wasn’t fine though. I reached down and pressed my hand against my anus again as the monster opened me up. I pushed it back and decided to see if I could hold it at all. This felt so naughty. I paced circles in my office, squirming and bending, until I felt myself open up again, felt the stinging pain as the log forced my anus wide. I tried to clench it back but it was no use. The next next urge pushed the shit an inch or so further.

It was happening, I was having an accident.

I made my way over to my chair and sat down. People use the word “log” all the time to describe big shits, I do it myself. This wasn’t just a log, this was the whole tree. It surged against the seat, and I wondered what the hell was wrong with me as the pain brought some intense pleasure. My eyes watered. After enjoying this pain for a while I stood up again, and breathlessly waited. I didn’t have to wait long.

Another inch surged out, making me dance and writhe on the spot, bringing more tears. Then I leant over and placed both hands palm down on my desk as another few inches forced their way out. I reached behind me, still bent over, and touched the huge shit, ran my fingers over the knobbly column of rock solid mass that was emerging. I gasped as more slid very slowly and painfully out, although “slid” is perhaps too graceful a word, it was more like “forced”, “shoved”. My back door had been kicked down and I couldn’t stop now.

My knickers tented away from my ass and it occured to me that this was going to end up on the floor, not that I could have stopped it anyway. It moved faster as the softer parts arrived until the whole lot fell with a thud onto the carpet.

I couldn’t believe it was over, but even though it was out my anus stung like hell and my stomach ached.

What now? I genuinely panicked for a while before going through my desk for a bag. Finding a laptop bag I gathered the shit up in it and very carefully made my way to the nearest toilet, avoiding everyone.

I’m never doing that again!

(Let me know if this turned you on)

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  1. I myself am concealing my erection in my office at work. Sounds like you may be a lawyer? A naughty and stinky lawyer ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜‹๐Ÿ˜‰

  2. Reading that brings to mind a term I like to use. I get the shit sweats in my lower back when Iโ€™m fighting back a strong persistent urge although I would never dream of being able to hold for more than two days tops. Iโ€™m often stuck in meetings around the time of my morning bmโ€™s.
    Doesnโ€™t it suck when these urges ratchet down on your abdomen to the point where itโ€™s hard to keep your attention on work?

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