Life As We Know It!

Elevator Excess

katannauk

We call them lifts here. And I can’t really imagine anywhere worse to be in a state but nevertheless it happened. Five times this year at various shopping centres.

I’ve got no idea how to approach this with multiple missions in one post. I’ve selected screen grabs from mirrors caught by handbag cam and the aftermaths. And some from when I stop on the way home. But I can’t post anything from directly inside the lifts. Posting things of me feels ok but I can’t just post innocent witnesses even if they’re blurry. Handbag cam confirms that I was most certainly noticed. That’s all I can say.

1

The first incident was back in the summer. Which is increasingly painful to say. I need summer back in my life already and it’s barely December. Three months of doom await. Digression, so it was a typical walk and was reasonably well planned. Although it’s distant in my memory now, the pictures helped me to piece it back together. It was a Sunday and I’d been out the previous night so my insides weren’t feeling great, especially on top of holding for days. I wore green shorts, pants, rolled up tights and then dark tights as it was a fairly miserable summer’s day and they’re by far the best final line of leaking defense.

On this occasion I’d been too desperate too soon and remember having an ‘accident’ in the main concourse of the shopping centre with my back to the wall, pretending to message on my phone. The panic beforehand grew suddenly when I realised I wouldn’t make it to somewhere more inconspicuous and it was too crowded to obviously cross my legs and attempt to fight it off; something I’d just about managed to do when I got out of the car beforehand. I started to sweat and look around as it just flowed out in a constant mushy stream that required little effort. I also lost control of my bladder briefly but it wasn’t a disaster. The smell hit immediately and I felt unusually embarrassed. And I hadn’t had a chance to buy what I’d wanted. Queuing in a shop was now out of the question and I made my way back to where I’d parked at a supermarket which had free parking for two hours feeling a little disappointed I couldn’t hold on longer. The walk out of the shopping centre wasn’t too bad as I’d had something to tie around me but that didn’t make the smell any better and I was still bright red.

Back at the supermarket I didn’t go straight to the car. I could feel it was soaking through and wanted to check how bad things were but typically the toilets were being cleaned. It was a guy as well so I literally just sighed, walked back out into the supermarket and wondered around the clothes section trying not to stink up any one area for too long. Mirrors in the supermarket showed the damage pretty well.

Then afterwards the elevated moment of madness happened. It was just a coincidence really. A lovely, pretty friendly looking girl about my age was waiting by the lift for the single floor down to the car park. And the doors opened. I’d whole heartedly always take the stairs but for some reason I didn’t and proceeded to walk in behind her and pressed the button. I had nothing tied around me anymore for the last leg of the walk to the car park. Then the doors closed.

It’s so tough to convey how I felt. Just sudden, pure panic. And it must have showed, I was fidgeting and holding my bum and trying but failing to hide it from her. The silence was deafening. My heart was drumming like I’d been sprinting for 10 minutes. The awkward panic was worse than any queue and the smell was now obvious. All I could do was fumble in my bag and badly re-tie the fail-safe cardigan around my waist as an attempt to hide the disgrace. It only took about 20 seconds but it felt like 20 minutes. It turned out she was staring at me for the whole time. Literally eyes fixed. She had a sympathetic expression similar to how someone comforting a child looks. When I finally heard the robotic ‘doors opening’ I was like a cat being let out. No waiting, just get out of there as soon as I could. I sobbed a wobbly sorry to her as I was genuinely emotional and rushed away. I don’t remember her replying.

Sitting in my car afterwards it took a while to calm down. That was my first enclosed experience without an escape route and it was about the craziest I’ve ever gone with messing. But a few months later it was repeated at a clothing store with two floors and an option to take a lift/elevator/elevalift/liftator.

I’ll try to strip these down to keep this shorter.

2

This one is far more vivid in my memory and occurred 6 weeks or so ago. I remember it particularly well as it was so incredibly crampy. I’d held for nearly four days and was worried it would be too firm so I’d taken a laxative that morning. Most of the time I’d only get mild, slight cramps from a laxative but this time I’d barely made it to the shopping centre. It was relentlessly desperate and each wave was utterly immobilizing and painful. I barely made it to the clothes store and wore far too little for a load like this. It was just single white full briefs and cut, rolled up tights to help prevent leg leaks. I wanted to actually browse and maybe buy some things before any chaos but there was no chance. I was constantly on the verge of an uncontrollable wave and this was possibly the most desperate I’ve been all year. It was like a countdown that I couldn’t escape and it ended up being pretty much a genuine accident. The elevator wasn’t planned. Again chance played it’s card. I had the lifts in sight just as I was considering bailing on the whole clothes store plan for an awkward dash and accident on the way to the toilets. But then two girls in their twenties and perhaps their mother in her 40′s approached the lift and again without much thought, so did I.

Apprehensive doesn’t really cut it. This felt very dangerous. A four day hold and pure cramps. ‘Doors closing,’ said the menacing robot. I stood at the front facing the doors so I’d be out first. They were chatting as I held my stomach and crossed my legs. They were quite lively, loud types. The sort that like a good argument. Which worried me! Again time slowed down. My insides were screaming and my mind was racing. As much experience as I have with trying to remain calm, it really was impossible with the severity of this desperation weighing down on me. I just focused my attention on the safety sign for some reason and I couldn’t stop fidgeting and dancing on the spot a little. And then I had to stop fighting it. The problem was, it’s quite impossible to relax into a mess like this. They cause convulsions and sudden pushes. As I stopped fidgeting at the peak of desperation, a wave of pure mush erupted. Luckily quietly but it was enormous and spread everywhere. immediately afterwards the second convulsion made me lean slightly and this one wasn’t quite so subtle. There was some bubbling and conversation between them became more stunted. And then omg the smell hit. The ten seconds or so I was left standing there, trying to hide my bum with people right next to me were probably the longest of my life. I stood with my head down facing the doors and now leaned on the side hand rail, trying to hide my face and my bum. But it was obvious. Handbag cam shows one of them staring, holding her nose and moving further back in the lift. And all of them staring at me as we left. I felt feint and retreated to a less crowded area of the store, looking for a toilet. This was immediately afterwards, thankfully not stained yet.

The smell was dreadfully bad. I left the store soon afterwards. It had no toilets. It was almost a dream like trance state where I just focused on where I needed to go. Some sort of excessive stress defensive means. I also had another very crampy wave on the way to the toilets I knew of and wet myself slightly. By the time I took the stairs up to the toilets to avoid the escalators it had stained and soaked through quite badly.

I attempted an incredibly awkward wee and tried to dry my bottom as much as I could in the toilets but didn’t hang around for long afterwards and headed back, stopping very briefly to use my better camera and kind of meditate away the stress in the woods. There’s a tree that acts like a table for my handbag and mini tripod. This helps to avoid bending down in a mess which can get very leaky in my experience.

That was probably the craziest of them all but I’ll recount a few more.

3

So this one was pretty much a ‘normal’ excursion. It was at a similar time to the previous mission and I wore a pull up over my pants. As I did for the next one too. For some of the time anyway. They detail how well a pull up prevents clothes stains, until it’s removed and I go natural with just pants. So back to the shopping centre for some essential bits I wanted to try and buy in the sales which I did prior to any disgrace although I did have to cross my legs in the queue once. This time was a far more comfortable mess. Lots of traction but also very urgent, minus the horrible cramps. Underneath I wore green briefs, rolled up tights and then a pull-up on top. The desperation climaxed on an escalator and I started to lose control towards the top which was awkward as I had no choice but to walk off it whilst going and then stop with my back to the wall trying not to look like I was having an accident. It was fairly large but I think perhaps the pull-up gives it extra visual poofiness.

I managed to totally empty this time in one go. Which wasn’t unpleasant, as bizarrely as that may read to some. The time before I kept getting more cramps and having further, smaller accidents. It felt like it would never stop. The smell wasn’t so bad this day. It was noticeable if I stood still but not awfully so. This meant I could browse for clothes in a mess for a little while which was as surreal as you’d expect it to be. It was by no means relaxed though. I’m constantly checking no one is getting too close.

The elevator was again a transit with only one person like the first time. And I’m not even sure if she noticed as I wasn’t feeling as adventurous and stood with my back to the wall the whole time. I wasn’t as stressed though. And it felt less rude to other people compared to having a near on extra smelly diarrhoea accident like the previous time. She did stare at the bulge as I left though. So I’m pretty sure she knew what had happened, plus the slight smell.

This mission became more interesting when I removed my pull up in the toilets as I’d weed quite a lot. Staining when I pulled my jeans back up was pretty immediate.

I ridiculously carried on looking at clothes for a little while afterwards, varying when and when not to have something tied around me depending on security etc. It was a bit risky but I’m pretty sure I wasn’t noticed (:/) Possibly just on the way out of this store where frustratingly I found some discounted shoes I’d been after that weren’t there the next time I went back. The queue was just too big for a messy wait and the stains were getting too bad.

Sorry, that was brief but there are still two more to cover. And sorry to get this all done at once and that it’s huge. It’s turning into a book.

4

Ok so this one was a little more interesting in terms of the elevator part. The actual messing happened just before and during the lift transit with three women and a guy, and this one I’d planned very well in terms of diet and holding. I managed to get all my little bits of shopping while the urge to go was rising and timing again made the decision for me. Underneath I wore the same combo as before but with white briefs as a primary and the pull-up above.

I’ve said I’m bi here before. I’m mostly straight and I’m in a normal, lovely relationship but this side of my mentality as previously mentioned, does compel me to sometimes mess near a hottie or two. Witnessing my friends accident in our teens has never really lost any strength in terms of emotional empathy vs arousal. The later of which I’m obviously ashamed of, knowing she was having a horrible time. But that echoes onwards and leaves me doing crazy things like this.

Shortly after this the aforementioned hotties and a rather cute guy, all about my age waited for the lift. I was about half way through the movement and could smell it. And it was a bit crackly sounding so I was quite nervous to attempt it but not as excessively as before. The chance came though and I took it. I causally walked in and stood at the front as the lift started talking about doors again. I just didn’t care about being witnessed this time. It’s ridiculous. At a very specific time of the month I seem to lose all inhibition and for that matter, sanity. My ability to act is enhanced (I think) and I tend to have the most memorable incidents.

I stood with my back to the wall at first but as the need to go built, which I had to persuade with a few small pushes, I crossed my legs and turned to face the door which meant my bum was in view. They chatted a little. And seemed nice from the brief conversation I heard. The need climaxed and I just pushed and made a clearly audible bubbly crackly sound and immediately held my bum as a lot more mess mushed out. I couldn’t turn around. I was slightly shocked by the noise I’d made and all of a sudden just needed to get out of there. There was a fairly large gush of wee that I was worried about too. They stopped talking and I heard a small whisper. Then finally, ‘Doors opening.’ I again got out of there as quickly as I could. I think they were shocked. Handbag cam was shaky. But they are definitely looking at me as I left the lift. I hope I didn’t offend them. The smell wasn’t horrendous like before. But the noise was soo embarrassing. I stayed in the same store at a distance to make sure I wasn’t followed. My heart was going crazy. It was very obvious. This was taken shortly afterwards.

The pull-ups padding clearly only goes so high. I also got a few on the way back from the toilets after removing the pull-up and then another on the way home.

So that was nearly on par with the desperate mission. But there was something about the desperation one wearing khaki jeans that felt more genuine.

5

Sorry I’ve put so much in one post. I just wanted to get them written without dwelling too much on each one. Not like it’s a chore. I like having the blog to remember all this by. But it reminds me of how excessive it’s all getting so I’ve kept putting it off. It’s impossibly hard to convey the emotions of such an embarrassing situation. And god knows why I do it in the first place. So finally, this one was in, wait for it.. a shopping centre. Original. And in slightly more dangerous lifts. Two floors so there was the potential of a stop. I’m wearing the same, if slightly more stained clothes so it was confusing to piece back together. I actually think this was before the last one, but anyway it was huge and felt extremely accident like. It was just double pants with rolled up tights between them this time. I rarely mess this much and it happened half while paying for gloves and then the other half in the elevator up to the toilets. Both halves were quite obvious as it was noisy again. The lady at the counter gave me a concerned look after the sort of bubbly noise and I said the usual quiet: ‘Is there a toilet here?’ I don’t think the smell hit before I’d left the counter but I think people behind me may have noticed. I’d been fighting the urgency for a whole day and it was a terrible night’s sleep before.

I tried to walk normally to the lifts and upon arrival, a lady, perhaps mid 30′s, was waiting. She had blonde hair and was wearing a figure hugging dress that looked a little OTT for shopping, but then so’s messed pants I guess. We were both going up. I’d need to go two floors. I was now nervous, and the nerves brought about a weak feeling, which brought about the need to finish. I tried not to stand too close to her as we waited. I fiddled with my phone doing my best to look normal and hoped the lift wouldn’t take long. I was worried about the smell already. PING. Lift chatters. At last. A woman with a pram exited and luckily there was no one else. This was about as perfect as I could hope for things to be, considering. One person is definitely enough. I felt fairly extreme shame after some of the previous incidents. I still do.

We both went in and she asked me which floor. ‘5th please’. She ONLY pressed five so I was now worried this might take too long, being on 3. And what if it stopped at 4? We stood next to each other. My mind was chaotic and I was aware of the smell already as the doors closed. I crossed my legs. It wasn’t at the peak of a wave but it was urgent enough. I relaxed and pushed and it was immediately overwhelming. I couldn’t help but lean slightly and bend my knees a little. It just kept coming. I angled myself more so my bottom was to the wall but it became totally obvious when it made a bubbly noise towards the end. It was an enormous mess. Perfectly planned for once. I was sweating, and she knew what was happening. I just put my hand over my mouth and stared at the floor. Trying to keep my bottom out of sight. But the smell was now obvious. The doors opened and I made for an awkward walk out. I think I heard her ask if I was ok just as I left but I didn’t reply. I didn’t look back either, I just headed straight for the toilet. And then again I heard her. She was also heading for the toilet. This time I turned around and just sobbed ‘I’m sorry.’

To make matters worse the disabled toilet was occupied. I just had to wait there. She walked past looking concerned and went into the normal toilets. It was genuinely, shockingly embarrassing. I managed to get into the toilet shortly after. A seemingly able bodied guy departed. But I can’t judge. I looked in the mirror and the bulge was silly. I had to attempt a wee which was completely impractical and my pants got terribly stained. Gross picture alert.

And then when I pulled up my jeans, the wee that went into my pants when I failed to successfully go totally stained through. I went into the normal toilets as there was no toilet paper in the disabled’s, just to try and absorb some dampness but it didn’t do much good.

It was a pretty crazy messing. I’m embarrassed thinking about it, but I can see the ridiculous and silly side that’s now gradually loosening the mental burden. Again the journey back, sitting on a bin liner, squishing things everywhere and stinking caused me to stop and attempt a picture and to generally relax. It was a nice autumn day. The sun and the gentle breeze helped to calm me down.

So that’s five missions in one post. It took two hours. I need food. And water. And the toilet. But just to summarise, I’m not going to make a habit out of elevator excess. It’s fundamentally wrong. I feel sorry for the poor noses. Planning accidents, ones that might be desperation accidents legitimately at the time; it removes all innocence and leaves me feeling pretty low for the following days. I just seem to get a little OCD about playing with chance until it provides the perfect circumstances. So many pants poops this year, but it’s slowing now finally. I’ve gone for a new look recently and it’s made me feel a bit better. I still think about the feeling of having an accident and the emotional roller coaster it entails. Living with it afterwards is never part of the plan though. :( Clean ups are utterly horrendous. Pre washing clothes. Washing mess away. Having to shower about four times in a day for the following days. It needs to be moderated and I will now, finally. Winter’s good for that xx

Happy pooping

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

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