Krystens Crappiest Day

The names, characters, places and events in this story are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. All characters are over the age of 18. Any similarities to real persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Thank for reading and I hope you liked this tale. Please do leave a comment as I read all of them and take them all onboard.

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KRYSTEN'S CRAPPIEST DAY.

It was down to two; man against man or, more accurately, woman against woman. Due to budget cuts, there was only one place available for a fully-funded research grant at Cleveland's Rutherford Hayes University bio-chemistry department and the shortlist had been narrowed down to two; herself, Krysten Young, and another girl named Anna Arakelian. Now today was the big day. Make or break; no prizes for second place. It was that important.

Krysten stepped out of the shower, nervous but excited, too. Walking through into her bedroom, she mentally ran through part of her presentation for something like the hundredth time. She dropped her towel onto the floor and caught a look at her nude self in the mirror. She knew she was no stunning beauty but she was more than attractive enough. She stood an average five foot six inches and had a pleasant oval face with a fresh-faced complexion coupled with clear gray eyes and light brown to blond hair. She had nice lips but she didn't like her nose much which she thought was slightly too long and not quite straight enough. As she stood with her arms raised, which lifted her boobs nicely, tying up her hair into a loose bun she looked down at her body. She wasn't impressed with her boobs as despite being a lovely C-cup, they weren't as pert as she'd like but tended to lie against her chest wall. They weren't that saggy but she'd never pass the pencil test, she thought. And her pink nipples and areolas weren't as well defined as she would have liked. Her belly was a little rounded, her hips a little wider and as for her thighs -- don't go there, girl, she thought. She looked down at her pubic mound with its neatly shaved landing strip and the hint of her rosy labia sticking out beneath.

She knew she was being too hard on her body. She played varsity softball and after a game, in the showers, she knew she compared okay with the other girls. And from their conversations, she knew they all had insecurities, too; even the drop-dead gorgeous Rebecca who funded her studies by pole dancing some evenings and weekends. A couple of the bi girls had hit on Krysten and her few boyfriends sure admired and appreciated her body when she had let them see her naked.

Her hand slipped down between her legs and she wondered whether she had time to relieve some of her tensions but one glance at the clock suggested that would be a bad idea so, sucking in her belly, she crossed to the chair where she had laid out the clothes she would wear for the presentation. She slipped on a plain white bra, nothing too tarty but with a hint of lace, and teamed it with a white thong as she didn't want any visible panty line showing. She pulled up a pair of cream-colored slacks and topped it off with a white blouse with more lace on the collar. Another glance at the mirror showed she looked sexy in an understated way yet also professional. Changing her mind, she undid the second button of her blouse revealing a hint of cleavage while a slender gold chain at her throat drew the gaze to that part of her body. As it was the chemistry department, she realized there would be far more men than women in the audience and an intimation of sex never hurt a woman's chances with men. She might lean forward when changing a PowerPoint slide and give just a glimpse of her twin assets.

Finally, she applied some discreet makeup to her lips and eyes and a touch of blusher to her cheeks. She stepped back for a final look and was pleased with the effect. A spray of perfume sealed the deal. She blew a little kiss to herself before leaving her apartment and walking downstairs to her little Fiat and drove the couple of miles over to the campus.

A group of people were meeting in the lecturers' common room for a quick get together before the presentation at ten a.m. A few of her friends rushed over to greet her and wish her well. Her best friend, Laura, gave her a little hug and kiss on the cheek. Coffee and cookies of several different flavors had been laid out on a credenza but Krysten could not face them but instead took a can of coke from an ice bucket. She popped the top, poured it into a glass and sipped the fizzy drink. Over at the far side of the room was her rival for funding, Ms. Anna Arakelian herself.

Krysten and Anna had never been close as their specialized fields were somewhat different and they had few friends in common. However, Anna waved her over and making her excuses to a post-grad who was moaning about research funding in general Krysten crossed the room.

Anna's Armenian heritage was very evident with her sultry, almost exotic looks. She was the same age as Krysten but seemed so much more poised and self-confident. She had lustrous dark brown, almost black hair, which she wore straight and loose which perfectly complemented her deep brown eyes set within calf-like lashes. Full, ruby-red lips against her olive skin set off her white teeth. In contrast to Krysten's pale outfit, Anna wore a black trouser suit which flattered her chesty, curvy figure.

Anna held out her hand. "Good luck," she said.

Krysten wished her the same but it was hard to make small talk with this woman.

Somebody by the door tapped a glass with a knife making a ringing sound and the room fell silent as the university's Chancellor himself entered. Krysten felt overwhelmed that somebody of such importance would be listening to her presentation and her knees felt weak. She glanced over but Anna seemed unfazed.

The Chancellor said a few words and Krysten set her coke down on a nearby table. So she did not notice her rival slip a small sachet out of her purse, pour some powder into her glass and give it a swirl before stepping away from the table.

The Chancellor made a small speech, followed by the Departmental Head, followed by a representative from a big pharma company who was providing the funding. There were even visiting academics from Miskatonic in Massachusetts and both Oxford and Cambridge universities in England. Krysten drank her coke and made a grimace as it seemed to have gone flat very quickly. She stifled a small belch as she finished her drink. She hoped she wouldn't burp during her presentation.

Professor Emmerson came over to wish the two young women luck. She was a kindly, gray-haired woman in her fifties who had once been short listed for the Nobel Prize itself, although she didn't win.

"We're about to start in a few minutes. It's been decided to go in alphabetical order so you'll be going first, Anna. Is that alright with you?"

Anna nodded assent and shortly after everyone left the common room and made their way down the corridor to the auditorium where rows of tiered blue seats faced a stage behind which were blue velvet drapes. A large projection screen had been set up for any slides while a young undergraduate stood to one side to assist with any tech.

Everyone took their seats, the important people in the first few rows while undergraduates and the merely curious filled the rest. Krysten sat near the front next to Professor Emmerson. Looking around, the auditorium was more than half full, Krysten noticed; a bigger audience than she'd expected which increased her nervousness and she felt her palms getting sweaty. Meanwhile Anna Arakelian made her way to the stage and looked as self-assured as she did earlier. The lights dimmed and Anna was now illuminated by a spotlight making her the center of attention.

Anna dipped a little bow to the Chancellor, then gave a short summary of what she would be discussing. She was so polished, Krysten thought, as if she gave speeches every day of her life. It was like she was a lawyer or Congresswoman rather than a Mid-West post-grad student looking for research funding. Krysten was impressed with Anna's delivery, the effective use of slides and PowerPoint, how she marshaled an argument and referred to recent developments in her field. Anna's specialty was chemical reactions and enzymes within the alimentary canal.

Several minutes in, Krysten felt a nervous pressure building up within her gut. She'd expected to be anxious but this wasn't helping. She bit her lower lip in nervousness and half stood but thought it would appear rude if she got up and walked out in front of everyone so she sat back down again. She frowned and tried to suppress the gas build up. For a minute that worked but intestinal gas built up more and more and Krysten knew she would have to release it. Carefully, not wanting to draw attention to herself, she shifted her buttocks and let the flatus slip out, praying it would be soundless. Fortunately, it was nearly silent but a distinct odor escaped and Professor Emmerson looked at her but Krysten stared at a man sitting nearby, trying to pass it off as his.

Krysten wondered what to do. What was the best thing to do? Get up and make a walk of shame past the whole auditorium to the restrooms, risking disapproval, or suppress things and try to tough it out? Before she could decide, another stronger fart grumbled through her guts, pushing out through her crinkly anus. She was lucky as Anna had just made a little joke and the audience laughed politely at the same time, covering any sound. Krysten glared at the unsuspecting man trying to cover her tracks with the smell.

That fart seemed to settle things momentarily and Krysten felt relief and wiped her clammy hands on her pants. She breathed more easily. But not for long as she felt another rumble in her intestines. Would she be able to slip another one out unnoticed? She drew in breath as things were rapidly going from bad to worse. Now she felt something solid passing down into her rectum so she desperately clenched her buttocks tight. But the gassy build up demanded to be expelled so very carefully, she lifted one buttock and pushed the foul flatus out, desperately making sure the solid did not escape. However, she felt it slide further down her rectum and the pressure in her lower bowel was now constant and almost intolerable.

Trying to take her mind off things, she looked up at the stage and saw that Anna was wrapping up her presentation and was taking questions from the assembled academics. Did she have time to rush to the restrooms and poop before it was her turn to speak? A brief debate with the Oxford scholar occurred about one abstract point in the duodenum and during that time, Krysten let a couple more fairly quiet blasts escape, but she felt that she really couldn't hold off much longer. Things were getting even worse as her bowels felt horribly runny inside, only held in place by that plug of more solid stool.

"Are you alright, dear?" Professor Emmerson asked with concern in her voice.

Krysten couldn't trust herself to speak but merely nodded.

There was a round of applause then the Departmental Head stood and walked over to the podium and thanked Anna for a most informative speech.

He finished off with, "And now our next speaker is Ms. Krysten Young who I am positive will also make a most enlightening contribution to our knowledge today."

He extended his arm, pointing out Krysten, and the spotlight swung over, illuminating her. It was too late now. She couldn't rush off to the restrooms now, not without looking both rude and foolish which wouldn't make a good start.

Clenching her sphincter as tightly as possible, Krysten stood and walked over to the stage. There were several steps up to the platform and as she climbed up, she felt that hard turd slip down still further until it was just poking out of her anus and only held in place by her thong's string at the back. She blushed and hoped that nobody would notice anything odd. More, she prayed that it would stay there. She stood there next to the Departmental Head who gave a brief introduction and outline of her achievements to date. She stood there in terrible agony now desperately trying to hold that lump of shit in place and hoping that the Head could not smell anything foul. She so wanted to fart and release flatus but knew that would mean disaster. She was perspiring freely and hoped that there were no damp stains showing under her armpits.

"I now give you Ms. Krysten Young," he ended with, stepping away and clapping and grinning like a daytime TV game show host. The audience clapped and there were a few cheers from her friends who were rooting for her.

"Go, girl," called Laura over the applause.

The clapping died away but not too soon for Krysten. This was becoming the worst experience of her life. All she wanted to do was rush off stage, dash to the bathrooms, find a clean cubicle, drop her panties and take the biggest shit of her life. But she had to get through her presentation first.

She coughed -- and felt that protruding turd inch down and slide against the cloth of her thong.

Gripping the podium with sweaty hands she started off. "As most of you know, human plasma proteins such as fetuin, ceruloplasmin and transferrin are glycoproteins, as also are several other hormones such as thyrotropin and chorionic gonadotropin."

She realized she had started at a rush and paused before carrying on. Would she be able to get through this ordeal after all?

"Some important immunological molecules of the glycoprotein class include blood group antigens of the ABO and Lewis types as well as the immunoglobulins and histocompatibility antigens."

She felt her audience hanging on every word.

"This slide may explain things a little better." She turned and clicked a button and the first PowerPoint display appeared on the screen. But the act of turning brought on utter disaster. She let her grip on her sphincter relax for just a moment but that was all it took. The turd pushed out of her asshole, past her thong and slid greasily down the back of her thigh.

Krysten blanched. Would anyone notice? She would have to face to the front without moving now for the rest of her speech. Yet an instant later, that thought became irrelevant. Now that turd had gone there was nothing holding the rest of her shit in place. With a trumpet blast of sound, diarrhea cascaded out of her ass. It was like a geyser erupting. The seat of her cream pants was ruined and everyone witnessed it. The semi-liquid sewage flowed down her legs, staining her pants legs shit brown. Another eruption of gas followed by another tsunami of hot liquid sewage poured out of her ass and down her legs. Almost as bad was the sulfurous stench of shit that filled the air.

Gasps and cries of shock and outrage filled the auditorium as first the front rows and then everyone saw what was happening; some people at the back stood to see better. There were a few catcalls and jeers from some of the male undergraduates at the back but these were quickly silenced. Professor Emmerson stood and moved towards the stage.

Another fart sounded but not as loud as before followed by a loose trickle of watery diarrhea. Overwhelmed by what had happened, Krysten broke down and burst into tears, such was her complete shame and humiliation. Overcome with emotion, her bladder now let go and warm urine flooded the front of her cream pants leaving her standing in a spreading puddle of her own wastes. Krysten so wished she were dead.

Professor Emmerson reached her and took control of the microphone.

"Due to Ms. Young's sudden indisposition, this presentation has been canceled for the time being but will go ahead at a future date, thank you," she announced.

Turning to the sobbing Krysten, Professor Emmerson kindly put an arm around her shoulders and led her off the side of the stage and out of sight. But Krysten heard the sound of the audience talking. And in her distress she still caught a glimpse of Anna's triumphant smirk before she covered her mouth with her hand.

"Let's find a bathroom and get you cleaned up and get you home," she said quietly to the still weeping young woman. Professor Emmerson had a couple of daughters, both adults themselves now with a grandchild on its way, so cleaning up a bit of piss or poop didn't faze her.

She led Krysten to a disabled restroom. A minute later, Laura knocked and was let in. Wrinkling her nose with distaste she asked if there was anything she could do.

"Go to the infirmary and get a robe and several pairs of paper panties while I clean her up," said Professor Emmerson.

Laura hurried off, glad to escape, while Professor Emmerson helped Krysten take off her soiled clothes until she was naked. Only her white bra was untouched by shit or piss. Running a basin of water, Professor Emmerson grabbed some paper towels from their dispenser, squirted soap on them and carefully wiped off as much waste as she could concentrating on the girl's ass and legs as if she were a toddler fresh out of diapers. She even cleaned around the girl's stinging anus and Krysten's tears flowed as she knew the older woman had a full view of her privates. All the time, Krysten was weeping as the full realization of her embarrassment and ignominy sunk in. But beneath her tears, she started to wonder at how this sudden shitstorm had happened. Had she been fixed somehow? It had to be that bitch Anna Arakelian as she was the one who had gained by this and a little coal of hate against that woman ignited in her heart. When Laura returned, they dropped the soiled clothing into a yellow clinical waste bag.

"You won't be wanting these again," Professor Emmerson said as they dressed Krysten in a hospital gown and paper panties and put slippers on her feet. Making sure that nobody was about, they took Krysten down to the parking lot and Professor Emmerson drove her back to her apartment.

Despite Professor Emmerson's reassurances on the journey home, Krysten knew that she had blown her chance at securing funding. Worse, she knew that she couldn't remain at this university now or in any academic establishment in the country. Sooner or later, word would reach out and she would always be known behind her back as 'Poop Girl'. Nobody would ever take her seriously ever again.

Once in her bed Krysten lay curled up for a while, but as she thought about her abject mortification and embarrassment earlier, she found her hand slipping down between her legs. She recalled the feel of Professor Emmerson's hand wiping her pussy and ass clean of her wastes; how she submitted to being cleaned so that she was fresh again. She relished the woman's gentle touch against her tender labia and then pressing against her sore little anus as she wiped away the wastes and dirt. Krysten's fingertips found her very sensitive pink button and slowly, but with ever increasing speed, she furiously circled and circled that excitable erogenous zone in a mix of lust and anger until her hips bucked and thrusted as she came and came again until her hand was covered with hot wetness.

But as she came, she cried out, "Anna Arakelian, I'm going to get you."

The End.