As the clock struck two o'clock sharp, my stomach clenched. The discomfort was growing stronger with each passing minute, and I could feel waves of anxiety wash over me. My client was an important figure in the business world, and I couldn't afford to ruin our meeting by farting or shitting myself - not in his luxurious hotel room.
I had been holding it since lunchtime; the thought of eating the caviar and drinking the champagne he insisted on serving was enough to make me wary. But as the anticipation grew, I forgot about my meal and focused on my work. My client was discussing a new business venture he wanted me to negotiate for him, a multimillion-dollar deal that could change my career path.
My bladder was bursting too, and a warm stream trickled down my legs. I silently cursed myself for not finding time to use the bathroom before this meeting. My situation was dire, and I knew I needed relief soon. But the urge to defecate was stronger, and I couldn't delay it any longer.
I excused myself politely, mumbling something about needing fresh air. As soon as I closed the door behind me, I slipped off my panties and sat down on the cold, hard toilet seat. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and gently pressed against the swollen mass in my anus. A loud crack echoed through the room, and a warm, sticky substance oozed out of me, relieving some of the pressure.
I let out a sigh of relief as I reached for some toilet paper to clean myself up. The toilet seat was cold against my bare skin, and I shivered involuntarily. As I wiped, I heard a loud knock on the door. My heart skipped a beat, and fear gripped me by the throat. I didn't have time to flush or wash my hands - there was still the other urgent matter to attend to.
With trembling hands, I reached for my client's champagne flute and brought it to my lips. The cool liquid soothed my parched throat, and I gulped down as much as I could. Then I lifted my skirt, revealing my bare ass to the room. I spread his expensive toilet paper across the floor and knelt down.
I took a deep breath and slowly lowered myself onto the hard surface. The cool air hit my sweaty body, making me shiver again. I bit down on my lip to stifle the moans that wanted to escape. This was the most humiliating thing I've ever done, but I had no choice.
As I began to defecate, I could feel every muscle in my body tense up. The pressure built up within me, making it difficult to push anything out. But with each struggle, a small piece of shit managed to squeeze past the blockage. It was messy and disgusting, but it felt good to let go.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I was done. I stood up, my knees shaking, and wiped my soggy bottom with some more of his precious toilet paper. I flushed the hole thing down the toilet, and as the panic began to subside, I realized what I had just done.
I quickly washed my hands and straightened my torn panties. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and faced my client. His eyes were wide with shock, but he didn't say anything. He just motioned for me to sit down. As I took my seat, I felt my cheeks burning red with embarrassment.
For the rest of the meeting, I was hyperaware of every sound and movement. Every time I shifted in my seat, I could feel the wet spot stretching across the delicate fabric. And every time I caught his gaze, I could see the shame written all over his face.
When the meeting finally ended, I hurried out of the room without saying goodbye. I didn't know what had just happened or why I had done it. All I knew was that I needed to get away from there as fast as possible.
As I walked back to my apartment, tears streaming down my face, I tried to make sense of it all. Had I lost my mind? Was I being blackmailed? Or was it something more primal, a desperate attempt to control an uncontrollable situation? I don't have the answers to these questions, but I know one thing for sure - I will never forget that humiliating day.
