Chelsea Poops Herself Pt 02

Chelsea was kneeling on the floor of the janitorial storage room, her trousers soggy with urine, her panties heavy with her accident. Cold air whooshed from the vents above, clearing out the smell.

The janitor was standing before Chelsea, brandishing the hose nozzle. He gave a few quick demonstration squirts to the side. The water shot across the room with a loud hiss, impacting bottles of cleaning solution and knocking one over.

"A hose? You must be joking," Chelsea scoffed.

"I'm sorry. We don't have a shower. I just needed to get you moving. Believe me, you're better off back here without all those gawkers staring at you."

She remembered that guy with his smartphone. What was he going to do with that video? She hoped to God her face wasn't visible.

"Just get undressed and I'll get you clean," he said. "I'll even have my guys grab you some new clothes."

"Fine," she sighed. It's not like getting naked in front of this stranger would be any more humiliating than having an accident in front of an entire store.

Besides, there was a small part of her that wanted to bear her body in front of him. She always fantasized about being exposed like this at her office, in front of her co-workers, but for obvious reasons that would have to remain a fantasy.

She stood up, kicked off her shoes and started undoing the buttons on her trousers. Grabbing and tugging the buttons pulled the fabric and it shifted the mess ever so slightly. The sensation was... nice.

"Gross," she quickly muttered as a way to suppress such a naughty thought.

She pulled down her trousers, leaving her panties on. She looked at the back of her trousers, wondering if they were salvageable, and for the first time saw the large wet brown stain. It was plainly visible and unmistakable for anything other than an accident.

The janitor was inspecting her legs, nodding with approval. The absurdity of this situation dawned on her.

"No, I don't think this is a good idea. Just let me go to the bathroom. I'll throw out these panties and shower at home."

"Eh, you're already here. We could finish this in 30 seconds."

What could she say to get out of this "shower"? She felt the remaining poo in her bowels stir. That's it!

"But I still need the toilet! I might have another accident on the floor. You don't want more work, do you?" It was a lie. She could easily hold it now that the bulk of her poo was in her panties.

"That wouldn't be good."

She was relieved. The bluff was working.

"Then let me use a toilet. I'll empty my panties, finish up, and go."

He rubbed his chin, still examining her legs. "I think you're just going to have to finish in your panties."

Her heart sank.

"You're already completely soiled. Might as well just finish." He walked around behind her. "Come on, finish up."

Her toilet gambit had backfired. Now she had to finish pooping her panties in front of this guy. But something about it felt exciting- no, that thought was too wrong to indulge.

She bent slightly, sticking her ass out, and pushed. A flow of mushy poo came out adding to the weight she felt back there. Was this worse than crawling around the store in her messy panties? She couldn't decide.

The janitor was chuckling, "Ha, in all my years I've never seen something so ridiculous."

She stopped.

"Ya done? I wouldn't want you to have another accident."

She thought, "I can hold the rest. This man doesn't need to see this."

He tossed her a trash bag. "You can put your messy clothes in there."

Out of ideas, she put her trousers in the bag, then carefully bent over as she pulled her panties down to her ankles.

As she lifted her feet to get the panties clear, the mess shifted and spilled to the floor. She swiftly moved her feet clear and put the panties in the trash bag.

"I'm sorry!" She looked to the janitor.

"It's fine, but you might want to take your shirt off, or else it's gonna get soaked."

She unbuttoned her blouse and removed her bra.

Chelsea stood there totally naked, her bare feet on the cold concrete floor, sticky poo clinging to her ass and crotch area. She held her blouse and bra in a bundle over her chest, concealing her B-cup breasts.

He grabbed her blouse and bra from her, leaving her to use her hands to cover up. He took the trash bag and tossed it to the side.

"Ready?"

Before she could respond, he launched a blast of water at her torso. The sensation of coldness overwhelmed her. She instinctively pushed her hands out to try and block the water, exposing her breasts. He pointed the nozzle at her face and hair. She backed away out of the stinging stream.

He stopped the water. Chelsea was shivering, her nipples hard, and her skin covered in goosebumps. The air vent above did its part too, surrounding every inch of her skin with icy air.

"Problem?" he smirked.

Glaring at him, she started to voice her disdain, but she was cut off by another spray of water to the face.

"Turn around, show me that ass."

She was already turning to protect her face.

He started to blast her ass crack and thighs. Brown water splashed on the floor and meandered to the central drain.

"Bend over."

She reached down to her ankles. The jet of water probed all her areas, one after the other. The water flowing off her body turned from brown to clear.

"Good enough." he declared. She heard the droplets of water dripping off her skin.

"Move over to the corner."

He began to hose down the floor and washed the remaining poo down the drain.

"Hey Jim?" the janitor was on his walkie-talkie. "Are you finished with aisles 12 and 13? Pick up some clothes for our guest and head back here."

Chelsea was shivering, arms across her chest. Her makeup was ruined, her hair a wet mess. Cold water flowed down her torso, gathering in her trimmed bush and dripping down. Her mind was alive with thoughts of what might happen next. Something... unthinkable maybe?

She knew she shouldn't be enjoying this, but when would she ever be able to experience this again? Being naked and exposed like this, in front of a stranger, in a dirty storage room? Sure, she had been naked in front of intimate partners before, but that was different, safer, in the home away from the rest of the world.

The janitor continued spraying the floor. "We're almost done here. There is just one more thing we need to do."

He put the hose down and approached her. Chelsea was backed into the corner. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her to her knees. Naked, shivering, and without her phone, she felt her only choice was to cooperate.

She was faced with his crotch. She looked up. He was staring down at her. They remained like this in silence for a few moments.

He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his semi-erect cock. A musky, humid scent filled the air around Chelsea. She knew what he wanted. It wasn't a mystery. She'd already let him lead her around the store like an animal, make her strip, hose her down. What harm would there be in giving in to this final demand?

She moved in to lick it, but he grabbed her hair and stopped her.

"First, you made a mess in my store, and now you want to suck my cock?"

"Yes," she said, "I kind of do." She was starting to feel at ease now that she was clean and would soon have fresh clothes. She was ready to give in to this absurd situation, this "shower."

"Well, beg for it. Look me in the eyes and beg."

Her readiness was replaced with annoyance. The gall of him to take advantage of her and then make her beg for the privilege!

But she wanted to suck it. She saw the cock hovering there like a ripe fruit on the branch. She was worried he might put it away and send her on her way.

"Please let me suck your cock, sir!" she said.

The door opened and closed. A man entered carrying a shopping bag. "Hey, boss, aisles 12 and 13 are clean. I grabbed some clothes."

The janitor looked towards Jim, "Come check this out." Back to Chelsea, "Look at him and repeat what you just said."

Chelsea locked eyes with Jim. "Please let me suck your cock, sir!"

Jim shook his head in disbelief, "You're eager for this. Glad I didn't play hooky today."

Chelsea returned her gaze to the cock.

"Suck."

Finally! She leaned forward and licked the tip. She brought her hands up and gripped the bottom of the shaft, just the way she did with her last boyfriend.

"No hands, use your mouth only, and I said suck, not lick."

She understood. This wasn't about intimacy; it was about his relief. She opened wide and took his cock in her mouth. She could get it about 3/4th of the way in before she started to feel the gag reflex. The taste was a mix of salt and fabric, the taste of a cock that's been trapped in a pair of boxers while the owner worked.

Her right hand drifted down to her pussy, grazing over her trimmed and wet bush, and she began to rub. Starting on the clit and then moving around the vulva and back. It was unlike any blowjob she had given before being on her knees in a dirty back room.

He was getting bigger, and she couldn't make it down as far, but she wanted to impress him, so she kept trying to go deeper and deeper.

Minutes passed. Jaw ached. Her pace lessened. He grabbed hold of her hair and started to take control. He shoved it to her limit and held it there. She couldn't breathe; tears formed in her eyes. She would've worried about her makeup, but it was already ruined.

He pulled out. "Take a deep breath. I'm going in for longer next time."

He pushed back in slowly until she started gagging. He held there, slowly inching back and forth.

5 seconds.

10 seconds.

She tried to pull back, but his hold was unyielding. The cock sat in her throat like an invader. Her body was producing saliva to try and expel it, but her gag reflex could do nothing against his grip.

15 seconds.

He moaned and began pushing in a bit more. She felt his penis throbbing. He was cumming directly down her throat. The janitor let out a groan. Chelsea hummed with a constant guttural throat noise, getting desperate for air.

He withdrew. She hunched over, breathing heavily and coughing. A large rope of saliva flowed out and pooled on the floor. There was no taste of cum in her mouth. He had bypassed her taste buds.

"You're up, Jim."

Jim approached dick already out and hard. He'd been masturbating.

She realized she was still rubbing her pussy. She inserted a fingertip and wished she had a dildo or a cock...

She looked up at Jim, still recovering from the last invader. She inserted her index and middle finger and moaned. She wasn't attracted to Jim, but this situation made her cock hungry.

"You want my pussy?" she whispered in between breaths. "Jim?"

"Eh, I have a girlfriend. Just give me that mouth. I'm close."

She added this rejection to her list of humiliations for the day.

Holding the back of her head, he slid his penis into her mouth. He thrust for a bit, then used his hands to move her head back and forth. Once his dick was fully lubricated, he pulled out and continued masturbating.

Chelsea took this opportunity to proposition him again. "Are you sure you don't want my pussy?"

He wasn't listening. He started cumming, aiming for Chelsea's face. Cum spurted onto her lips, forehead, and hair.

"Ah! Better than rubbing one out in the bathroom."

"Come on Jim, we got more work to do. Give her the clothes."

Jim awkwardly handed Chelsea the bag.

"Uh, thanks." Chelsea was still on her knees, rubbing her pussy. Her arousal had not abated, but it seemed the "shower" was over. The men were satisfied.

She turned her attention to the bag. It had an unopened 6-pack of white cotton panties and a denim skirt.

"Wait, where is my blouse and bra? My purse?"

"Right here on the shelf. You can let yourself out. We have stuff to do." They both exited the room. Chelsea was alone, feeling used and discarded.

She put on a pair of white cotton panties. Next, the denim skirt. It was short. Very short. It didn't even cover her entire ass. The bottom of her panties were visible.

She put on her bra and blouse, wiped the cum from her face using another pair of panties from the 6-pack, and walked out of the privacy of the room.

She rushed through the back area, through the two double doors, and back into the electronics department. A man browsing through some phone accessories noticed her and gave a very long look at her legs, hips, and exposed panties. She looked down to avoid eye contact and rushed along.

"Time to go," she thought. "I'm not finishing my shopping in this."

She cut through the clothing area in the center of the store, navigating the forest of densely packed racks to avoid other shoppers.

She emerged on the other side, facing the lines of cashiers and shoppers. Some of them glanced at her but looked away. No doubt they were getting an eye full of her ass as she walked by, at least the men were.

She approached the main entrance. She saw the bathrooms that she neglected to use when she first entered. How such a small decision completely altered the course of her day (and her life, but she wouldn't realize that until much later)

"Right, I still need to finish my poo. But what if..." She grinned. She was missing the feeling of the mess.

"Fuck it."

She squatted down slightly, relaxed and pushed the remainder of her poo into her panties.

It was the tail end of her poo, but it was still sizeable. A lump formed in the visible section of her panties and sagged down, staining the material brown.

There were exclamations of surprise and shock, but she only concentrated on the sensation of the growing wet lump on her backside. The people around her were just a vague blur. She was only sad that there was so little left to push out.

The janitor spied her from afar and chuckled to himself.

Chelsea exited into the light of the late afternoon sun, took a breath of fresh air, and walked to her car.

THE END

Chelsea will return for more poo (mis)adventures!