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For messing fans...apparently some women have to poo badly in bookstores.


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11 minutes ago, Emma Bailey said:

This makes a ton of sense! I wonder if it has to do with the sort of calm privacy that a bookstore can have, combined with the frequent lack of toilets? I know I've had a messing accident and one or two close calls in one before, but I hadn't put this together.

Now you gotta tell us about those incidents!

Is it primarily a female thing? What makes it different for guys?

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Just now, trekkie said:

Now you gotta tell us about those incidents!

Alright, so this is one of my dumbest accidents. This happened when I was 16. In the town I lived back then, there was this small, comfy bookstore that I loved. It had a really nice selection of older sci-fi, a little room at the back where you could read, and, most importantly to my 16-year-old self, I had a crush on the owner’s son, who occasionally worked shifts there.

For this, let’s call the son Mason. Anyway, he usually worked on wednesday afternoons, after school let out. So I made a habit of stopping by every couple of weeks and wandering around, looking at as many books as I could and getting his thoughts on every single one. Looking back, I’m pretty sure he was sorta weirded out by the one girl who was a couple years younger than him and kept asking him about random books that he hadn’t read. I’m also pretty sure he knew I was wearing a diaper some of the time, since by that point I was wearing pullups during the day after a string of accidents in class.

On the day of the accident, my day was already going less-than-unsoiled. Me and my friends had gone out to get some sushi after school, and during it I’d wet my diaper in front of them on a dare. I later learned that one of them was actually into omo, and I dated her for a while, but that isn’t super relevant here. What is, is that that had been my last diaper I had with me. I cleaned myself up, and I still had panties, but my backpack was flat out of diapers. I figured that hey, I’d just peed, I shouldn’t need to go for a good while, and after that I ran off to the bookstore to see Mason.

When I entered the shop, I hadn’t even realized that I needed to poop. I was wearing my standard outfit, a little red skirt, and since I didn’t have a diaper I’d thrown in my back-up (in case of leaking) tight shorts. My browsing started normally enough. I found some random romantic space opera, and was trying to chat up Mason in what I thought was a subtle way. As I put the book back, I noticed that I was starting to need to poop. As any person with a modicum of bowel control would, I shrugged it off. Of course, at the time I didn’t have that bowel control, and as I brought more and more books up my need got worse. However, I wasn’t going to leave that quickly. I actually got Mason to come back with me and look at some books back in the stacks, which in my adolescent fantasy would end in passionate kissing.

I was sitting on one of those little stools, looking up at Mason, when the cramps came again hard. Now comes the dumb part. By now, I’d totally forgotten I was out of diapers. I’d been wearing them for a couple months, and having loved every moment of it was a bit too comfortable with them. I leaned forwards and pushed my load out as quickly and silently as I could.

It was not, in fact, silent. I let out a massive fart, stood up in shock, patted my bum, realized what had happened, and turned to run as fast and far from the bookstore as possible. However, this was not to be: I tripped over the stool, sticking my butt right up towards Mason and revealing the full extent of my mess. My shorts were some light color (I think they were white sporty shorts?), and the brown stain was clearly obvious. My poop wasn’t at it’s most solid, either, so it was pretty obvious what happened.

I pulled myself back up, babbled something apologetic, and ran out. I avoided that bookstore for the rest of that year, which I still sort of regret because Mason left for college after that and I never saw him again.

But yeah, bookstores. They probably make me have to poop.

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It may be the bending down and squatting? I just realised that I can't go to any of my local McKay's (formerly Edward MacKay) without having to use the bathroom. I think that nearly every time I am in any one of the stores, i have to go to the bathroom, of course after trying to unsuccessfully hold it in for as long as possible. Usually I make it ... just.

One time, I never made it in at all.

The one in Greensboro has (or had before COVID, not sure about now) a policy where you had to go to the counter and ask for the key.  

Usually, this involved a wait of at least 5+ minutes. 

I have been able to hold it most of the time. But some times, I did not make it. I felt the back of my pants start to push out. I have a flat ass, so it was noticeable, or going to be. So I side walked out of there. There was one woman who worked there who kind of watched me leave. (I had to turn my back to exit the building.) I think she was trying to guess if I was stealing anything.

I did make it mostly to my van. I got the door open and hopped in. (I know ...  😞  The parking lot is always full and busy.) I ended up sitting straight down instead of on one hip. Squish. 

I think I must have had some kind of horrible expression on my face because no sooner had I fully realised what I had done than the woman employee I had been looking at walked past the front of the fan and tracked that I was there. 

Oh gods ... 

She stopped and came over to the driver's side window and nodded. I reluctantly tried to thumb the switch, but it didn't work. Panic set in. My battery was dead. I shit my pants. A woman I was interested in was at my window and I was going to be questioned for shoplifting (which I didn't ).

I tried again and again. She made a turn motion with her hand and I realised the ignition was off. Gods what an idiot. I had tears streaming down my face.

I quickly turned on the van, the AC, and opened all the windows. She handed me my wallet, which had fallen out of my pocket as I left the store.

I said thanks and drove home. I was shaking and crying so hard I could not even enjoy that I had messed (and wet) myself.

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On 12/5/2020 at 7:07 PM, trekkie said:

You are? Can you link to any more of your stories? Do you have to go more suddenly or frequently than other people; how does it usually happen? Also, you seem to take it in stride pretty well. Is it fun because if your interests, or more trouble than its worth, or somewhere in between?  

I don't have a link to anything but for me the urge comes up very urgently and without warning so accidents happen sometimes. I do enjoy the fact that it happens because of my interest in it but in the moment it is terrifying lol

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Kind of an update. I went to McKay's last night. I spent nearly two hours browsing all of the bookshelves, top to bottom. I squatted and reached up on my toes. I bent over bargain bins. (ALL of this with mask and gloves on, of course.) The store was nearly empty at the time. 

I was trying to stimulate my digestive system. 

The good news is that about 30 minutes into my browsing, I started cramping. I looked for a deserted aisle and moved to the far end while scanning the books. I felt a kind of quiet fart slip out. Casually I backed up to see if it was just a fart or not by pressing bum against the edge of the tall bookshelf. Nope, dry.

OK, more looking. I kept it up. Now none of this activity is out of the norm for me. I am a very regular customer and often am mistaken for working there because I generally am laden with a cart of books when I leave. 

Ten or twenty minutes pass and I think I smell someone else has left a bad fart on the next row. Oops, I guess it is me. I'm not paying attention.

I notice I have been feeling the kind of putt-putt gas that makes me think it may be wet - or not. But something may be coming. It may be big. 

Should I head toward the bathroom, in case the store gets crowded? Should I look at more books? Movies? Video games? Music? 

I am squeezing my cheeks together and trying to decide (looking at my wishlist on my tablet as cover - kind of) when my lower back starts to hurt like a kidney punch. OWWW!

I breathe through the pain and look back at my tablet. The screen comes into focus as the wave of pain passes and the cramp subsides. Wow, that one was bad. I have to try to make it to the bathroom now.

I go back down the aisle and head toward the bathroom, which isn't on the key system (see above). Oh gods, it is going to be close. 

I pick up speed and am about to drop my basket of book and music on the table outside the bathroom when out from the employee door comes the one employee both want to see and don't want to see.

I will explain quickly and it is pertinent so I hope you understand. 

(If you want to skip why or the backstory - it is non-omo - just scroll down to the +++++++++++++++ )

I don't know if anyone else out there is like me, but have you ever met someone who you just like to see. I mean it is more than that really - I know it sounds stupid.  Well there is an employee at this store who just makes me smile and my heart race. I don't know anything about (her?) and I say her? because the first time I saw her? she was wearing a nametag that had what is usually a guy's name on it. For anonymity, let's say the tag read "Dave" (Which could be DAY-V (M) or De-Vay (F) )* (see optional info about working service industry / retail / customer service and name tags. YMMV. Mine never has. always had to have a name tag.)

 

So, going back a few years, I went into (Edward) McKay's and up to the counter with some really cool DVDs and CDs and books. "Dave" said (At the exact moment I looked up) "Wow, you have a lot of cool things tonight." And I think she blushed. Maybe. Idk what it was. But I guess what I am trying to say that even before she spoke, I was just stunned. No, she isn't a model or "model beautiful". For some reason she just hit all of the perfect "I've just seen a face ... I can't forget the time or place ..." feelings. I am not sure if it is pheromones or she reminds me of someone or what. Because of the name tag I can't say I am sure if she is she/he/they ... I don't care. She speaks so softly that I have no vocal cues and I don't care. Not really. I am not a creep. Really. 

*(In the service industry it is common that if you lose/don't have/etc. a tag - you wear any tag / "the store tag" / etc. to show you are an employee. As a gag, someone at a restaurant where I worked kept taking my name tag. They cost $15 each and took 2 weeks to arrive from the home office. The "store" tags were either "Sh_i_THEAD" or "Linda". You wore one or you worked and did not get paid / were fired. I did not like the ridicule of being called shithead by the owners, upper staff, and customers (when they finally got the joke). Being "Linda" was easier.)

+++++++++++++++

YESTERDAY

OK ... back to yesterday. I am heading to the bathrooms and "Dave" comes out from the employee door (near the bathrooms). To be blunt, I have always been instantly attracted to her(?)(see above, if you really want to know). And I really don't want to mess myself in front of her. I already wish (in dreams only) that she thought of me as more than a customer, and was into anything omo ... I mean anything. BUT, I am so nervous that she will see me fill my jeans with a huge hot load that I can't move.

She smiles and quietly asks me if I am going to check out. I nod and meet her at the counter. She scans my items. I pay. I walk out. I am not sure I breathed more than twice, but to say:

"Thank you very much.Itisnicetoseeyou.Ihopeyouaredoingwell.Happyholidaysifyoucelebratethem/any/all/some."

Yes, it came out like that. 

I found myself back at the van and holding my breath. I let go and sagged against the driver's door. I got in and I can't say I remember much until I was in my driveway and crouch walking into the house. I would have gone right there by the van, in my own yard, but the neighbour was just on the other side of the fence and I did not want him to file an indecent exposure police report on me. I don't even know him, them? Them just moved in. 

So, that was an "almost" at my favourite bookstore. Sorry it wasn't more.

 

 

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