INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - Jamie and Hayley are 18-year-old star triathletes from Brisbane Australia who belong to an elite training squad. Neither has any time for one of the girls in the group named Mackenzie, also 18, who is a spoiled, stuck-up, overly-competitive and arrogant diva, who thinks she is better than everyone else.
One Sunday morning, Jamie goes for a run alone when Hayley is out of action due to period pain, and by chance sees Mackenzie make a big mistake and get herself into a messy, smelly and humiliating situation she would not want anyone else to see. What effect will Jamie's observations have on him and his sex life with Hayley? Read this story to find out.
This work contains strong fetish scenes of urination, scat, menstruation (including period sex), soiled panties and voyeurism. It these themes aren't your thing, it may be best not to read it. Otherwise, please enjoy this story and rate and comment. All characters are 18 and older and they and the events in this story are fictional, with similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional.
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When I was born my parents said I could run before I could walk. I learned to ride a bike without trainer wheels by age four. And keeping me out of the water was like asking a fish, dolphin or seal to stay out of the water for any length of time. As I got older, my love of running, swimming and cycling increased and fortunately there was just the perfect sport for a boy with those interests -- triathlon.
Growing up in the city of Brisbane could not have been better, with the Queensland capital located in Australia's sub-tropics and providing great weather for triathlon. I was accepted into an elite triathlon development club aged ten, and this really helped me with my chosen sport. We got to train and compete in all sorts of awesome places around South Queensland -- along the city and the banks of the Brisbane River, the beaches of Wynnum and Manly and in other coastal areas around Moreton Bay and the Redlands area.
We also got to go to the Gold Coast and compete in scenic places such as Southport, Surfer's Paradise, Broadbeach, Burleigh Heads, Palm Beach-Currumbin and the Coolangatta/Tweed Heads region on the border between Queensland and New South Wales. And if we were slack on the cycling, we got plenty of practice cycling up to Mount Coot-ha west of Brisbane or up Mount Tambourine in the Gold Coast Hinterland.
The triathlon club was an important part of my life, not only because of the sport but because I got to meet other kids into triathlon and make many good friends, both male and female, including one special friend. Her name was Hayley, and she was the same age as me. A petite and stunningly pretty girl with long blonde hair, fair skin and sapphire blue eyes we were the same age and met for the first time when we were both aged eleven.
Quickly becoming good friends, Hayley and I began dating in our mid-teens and were true childhood sweethearts. Once while walking hand-in-hand across Brisbane's Story Bridge looking at the river and city skyline I couldn't believe that my beautiful girlfriend was actually real and that she loved me. It was a far cry from our first meeting in 1997, when I clumsily asked Hayley 'if she liked stuff', called her Holly rather than Hayley and said my name was Jimmy, when of course it was Jamie. She must have thought this tall skinny red-haired boy was a complete imbecile, maybe the 'special needs' sibling of a boy or girl who was in the training squad.
While Hayley and I were very much in love and we both had plenty of friends among our fellow triathletes, there was one exception, and her name was Mackenzie Gold. Gold was an appropriate surname for Mackenzie, as winning was her obsession in life. That was understandable in a way. The triathlon training squad was elite, you didn't just get in there and you had to be good enough to be selected to join the development program. Parents exasperated with their overweight, couch potato, computer game addicted son could not sign him up to get him in shape. Winning was important. But Mackenzie took things up past level eleven in terms of competition.
It wasn't just Mackenzie being over-competitive that was a problem, it was that she was a diva with it, a total princess who wanted everything on her terms. And if Princess Mackenzie did not get what she wanted, a discrete complaint to her parents ensured that Mummy and Daddy made sure their daughter's diva demands at the triathlon club were met.
Mackenzie had her heights set on loftier things than competing and winning triathlons in Queensland, she wanted national and international success. And with triathlon recently becoming an Olympic sport, Mackenzie had her eyes set on the biggest sporting stage on Earth.
Without doubt, Mackenzie had the talent to succeed, she was the best girl in the program. One could not fault her commitment and focus to her sport either. Her good looks -- Mackenzie tall, slim and pretty with long dark brown hair and brown eyes -- also did not hurt her prospects of stardom. But did she have to be such an insufferable, stuck up and spoiled bitch all of the time?
If assessing spoiled people, Mackenzie was not the type of girl spoiled with material things. She wasn't an older version of the tantrum-throwing type of brat one sees in action at a shopping center either. Mackenzie was the type of child raised to believe they are superior to their peers, constantly showered by praise from her doting and competitive parents who wanted their child to achieve great things, family life revolving around Mackenzie's life and what was important to her.
With such an upbringing, it was little wonder that Mackenzie had grown to be so stuck-up and entitled, regarding the rest of us at the triathlon club as peasants, herself as a princess. Her manner was cold and aloof most of the time, and her response to things not going her way such as not winning an event would be met more with passive aggression and sulking rather than a 'dummy-spit' tantrum or an overt display of anger.
The triathlon club would often have us engage in fundraising activities such as car washes and sausage sizzles to raise money for club events and travel, and it was expected that we all do our bit. That we did and so did Mackenzie, but one could tell that she was more than happy with her wealthy parents financing her and her sulky but silent attitude clearly spoke 'Why should I be here?' and 'Why is it any concern of mine that other kids need to fundraise to compete in events'. The only reason that she was there was that even she and her doting parents could see her absence would look bad, but would it have been worse if she had not been there? Probably it would have been better for us who had to work with the sulky brat.
In our mid-teens, I got to learn more about Mackenzie's background and why she was the way she was by overhearing a conversation between her mother and some of the other mums of teenagers at the triathlon program. We were clearing up after a club social function, and I was behind some curtains cleaning the windows when Mrs. Gold began discussing her daughter.
This wasn't anything out of the ordinary, Mrs. Gold's favorite conversation topic was always Mackenzie. I had obviously never been to the Gold house as Mackenzie and I were not friends, but I often imagined them having life-sized pictures and portraits of Mackenzie in every room. However, this time I heard Mrs. Gold say how it had taken eight attempts at IVF costing many thousands of dollars for each cycle before she conceived Mackenzie.
I had always known Mackenzie was an only child, but from hearing more of the conversation I was surprised to find out that she had no cousins either. It seemed that Mrs. Gold's sister had the same fertility problems but she and her husband's longing for a child ultimately went unfulfilled. And Mr. Gold had a younger brother, but he was a homosexual who lived in Sydney with his boyfriend, so obviously no kids there either.
So Mackenzie was an only child with no cousins, so therefore a much rarer only grandchild too. Given Mackenzie's very existence had cost many thousands of dollars to bring about in the first place, and that she had been born into a wealthy and ambitious family and had the talent to fulfill their sporting achievement goals, little wonder she was a stuck-up, spoiled and self-absorbed child who had grown into a stuck-up, spoiled and self-absorbed teenager during her adolescent years.
Hayley and I each had a sibling -- Hayley a younger brother and me a younger sister - who were talented at sports too, and with more humble backgrounds resources and praise had to be spread around between siblings. With Mackenzie, the spotlight was always on her. When I thought of the word 'narcissist', the image of Mackenzie always appeared in my mind's eye.
