My Day In Court

My Day In Court

When the incident took place that involved me in this visit to court I really believed I had little to say. I had seen two young men having a fight outside a pub one night late and when it was was clear one of them was badly hurt I waited for the police and left my details.

Life though is full of surprises and the man who, as it were. won the fight was prosecuted by the police. In fairness the injured parties injuries had been quite severe and he had lasting damage.

Hence almost a year on, on a bright Spring morning I found myself at the main city Crown Court to inform what I had seen. The police had assured me it would not be a long drawn out matter – in and out – they informed me. Three of us were placed in a witness room, given paper cups for the water cooler and left to sweat. It was a new experience for all of us. I was the oldest, the other man there, like me in his fifties and a young girl who was shaking at the thought of giving evidence. They took her first, leaving me and Bob together. Like me Bob was well turned out in a dark blue suit and everything matching. We were both reasonably well preserved for guys in their fifties.

We had all three been the chance of a toilet visit before our incarceration in this quite small room and its simple and uncomfortable seating. Neither of us had taken the offer and it was clear now that the usher who had said, “be in on your own heads fellows,” had known what he was on about. An hour and a quarter on and my middle aged bladder was protesting and my bowels caused me to apologise for an expected fart. Bob grinned nervously and looked very uncomfortable. I suspected he was dribbling in his underpants, something that seemed like a good idea to me right now because it was clear I was going to have a very real accident unlike the accidents I usually enjoyed. I began to let go but the relief was not great so I decided that at this point I might just as well accept what was happening and carry on leaking and hope things got better.

The door opened and the usher took Bob away. As he went away I saw his soaking wet bottom, wet stain shining in his suit trousers. Under more normal circumstances such a siting would have turned me on and I’d have been enjoying an orgasm by the time the door closed.

Now I farted again. It was quite involuntary, not something I would have chanced of my own accord. Beyond all shadow of doubt I was going to mess my briefs. I was thankful what was waiting was not a loose and wet poo bought about by fear but a standard daily poo, the sort that arrives mid morning and was now badly delayed. I had finished with my dribbling, finished with my wetting. My briefs, shirt tail and trousers were sodden, the wetness as obvious as it had been on Bob. Time went by and I was becoming terrified my evidence would be called in the afternoon. I paced around holding onto my bottom, my dump was there at the door and almost sick of knocking. I pulled the waistband of my briefs up so they were tight. It meant my waistband showed but who cares when desperate.

The usher arrived for me and smirked at my state. He must have heard me fart as he led me to the witness box. I could feel my poo preparing to descend into my pants. The courtroom was scary. Heavy dark wood and witness box raised high above the solicitors and barristers, on a level with the judge. I was pooping my pants, right now I was dumping in my briefs. my pants were bulging. I was certain everyone sat in the court knew the witness had just pooped his pants like a small boy.

The judge looked over the court to me and informed me prosecution and defence had decided the case had been made and my evidence was not now required. I was thanked for attending in a manner most gracious and I was take by the grinning usher to the exit and I made my way to the street thankful my car was only a fifteen minute walk away. My wetness was clear for all to see but my heavy industrial sized load of poo was secure and wonderfully comforting as it was squeezed between the top of my legs as I walked. I found a bag to cover my car seat, stood and enjoyed a good wee running down my legs and into my shoes.

Oh joy.

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