Posted by Donnie C. on June 17, 2010 at 16:32 [188.8.131.52]
In Reply to: Diaper Pooping/Panty-Pooping Cheerleaders posted by diaperdude7 on June 17, 2010 at 12:25
While you're waiting for Narada, enjoy an old post freom our dear departed friend Brenda Ingersol...
I promised I would relate this past secret and embarrassing story. I really wish it was pretend or make believe. I went through this nightmare many years ago. I am afraid to reveal my age then for fear I will be chopped off. Let's just say I was in high school. I was on the volleyball team as well as the "Pep Squad". We were not actually part of the cheerleading team but we worked every football and basketball game with them. Our uniforms were a white sweater (long sleeve) with school logo and name embroidered, a short dark blue pleated skirt, our choice of white or blue matching panties and shoes. I was even issued a pair of black panties with my outfit. I went to all practice sessions and even got a "B" in the class. I liked "Pep Squad" because it confirmed I would have P.E. or gym class only as required and not every day.
It was the third football game of the season. Our team had lost the first two. I was assigned to "work' the Junior Varsity Game just after school. All of us wore our uniforms to school that day. That was regular procedure. Anyway, after lunch period, around 1:30 PM. I was in art class. I slowly felt the urge that I really enjoyed overtake me. I needed to relieve myself. In addition to my uniform I was wearing nylons between my regular panties and the uniform white panties. Mrs. Conyers, the art teacher gave me permission to go to the "senior quad" to sketch a monument of marble. Three other students and me left for the assignment.
I sat in the grass and did my drawing. I also was able to completely empty my bladder in the grass and it was my secret. I spent most of the 20 minute time slot peeing, but the pressure was still there. Although my bladder was drained and my panties very wet, still I wasn't done. Our time was up and we returned to the class. Twenty more minutes and the bell rang. By then I felt a lot of pressure. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't desperate or crying. When I have been there before I would just pick a convienient position and empty my bowels. I was always prepared and usually it was needed. Nearly everyday I would walk home from school with a medium to large bulge in my panties. Sometimes they were wet too, sometimes they were dry.
I will tell you this, to me messing and wetting my pants was just like sex. When I committed to unloading and started to evacuate, I would usually experience one or two orgasms. As much as I loved the feeling of my panties filling up, I feared being caught in mid orgasm. It was like an electrical shock. On this day in particular, I peed in the grass after lunch. By 6th period I could feel my panties were dry. But now I had to poop bad. Our class was in the library. I got up and walked away from the main group. I was in a history section, something about family histories. I pretended to look at a couple of books. As I stood there, I let go. I went and went. It felt like I had released two large bananas into my crotch. God, it felt good. I stood there until I was completely done.
As I returned the book to its place with my left hand, I slipped my right hand behind my back and felt my handy work. Wow! What a load. I needed to sit down and compress it. It worked a little. It squished up my back, nearly to the elastic of my panties, across both butt cheeks, and up to the hairline in front. I must admit it felt great. The final bell for the day rang. As most students headed home, I joined the small crowd gathering for the JV game. We sat in the grass beside the team who sat on the benches. Needless to say I used this opportunity to clean my private area by peeing again. What I didn't realize was that my white uniform panties were now stained brown. (I should have worn the blue or black and I would have been OK.)
As the game went on, we jumped and danced and spun. In the second part of the game our coach took me off to the side and asked me how I felt. I told her I felt fine. She seemed concerned, and I began to feel paranoid. From then on I was really careful to make sure my private secret remained my private secret, slower spins, lower leg lifts, shorter jumps. At one point in the second part of the game, Rebecca, the girl next to me commented on what she called a nasty smell. I told her that I noticed it too. We both agreed that someone around us had shit their pants.
The game went on. When the game ended, we had lost another one. The small crowd was exiting thought the three gates. A line had already began to form for the Varsity game an hour later. I had started toward the gate. Suddenly the squad coach called my name. "Brenda ... Brenda ... hold on a second! Can we talk?” She led me over to the visiting team bleachers and back behind them. "Brenda, we have a problem!" she stated. "Do you remember me asking you how you felt?" she asked.
"Yeah," I answered.
"You said you felt fine, you don't feel sick or anything.." she reminded me.
"What are you getting at?" I asked back.
"Well ... Brenda ... I want to do this as diplomatically as possible .... lift up the back of your skirt.." she ordered.
"Why?" I asked. She beat me to the punch. She had my skirt up before I could give her a reason why it should be left down. "Young lady... what is this?" pointing at my bulging loaded panties. "We all had to watch you through the entire game, dirty and disgusting, a pig, a baby not even potty trained."
I was shocked. Had I been that much of a spectacle? I tried to answer but I could only pull my skirt back down and resume some sort of embarrassed modesty. I remember thinking, "How dare she pull up my skirt!" I also remember wondering what I must have looked like, I wished I had a mirror.
"Brenda, I have no choice but to drop you from the squad. You can appeal to the office if you want to, but I don't think you will!!" She closed with this statement, "You need to get help, girl..."
I remember I was crushed. I was afraid to tell my parents that I was kicked off the squad. I was afraid they would find out why. I have never forgotten this experience. It depressed me for years. But now I know I am not some kind of crazy person. I have since learned that thousands of girls, even guys, mess their pants daily. I only wish my coach back then had tried it, she would have hugged instead of firing me.