Towards the beginning of the school year when I was in 5th grade (and aged 11), I went to the school bathroom to pee. From the noises and smells coming from the stall next to mine, the girl in there was obviously pooping, and I heard some 6th grade girls start to tease her for pooping in school.
I’m ashamed to say that rather than tell them to stop, I was quite intimidated by them and scooted out of there just as fast as I could, leaving that poor girl alone to be tormented. I had never really been comfortable doing number two in public restrooms, but after hearing that teasing, I vowed I would never poop in a public restroom again.
This state of affairs lasted for a while and then, one day, the inevitable happened. I was sprinting from the bus stop trying not to have an accident and I didn’t make it. I pooped my pants right on the front porch.
I managed to hide my accident from my brother but my mom discovered the messy panties in the garbage can when she took the rubbish out that night. In retrospect, I should have hid them better – I was just so embarrassed that I wanted them gone and put the whole thing (literally) behind me.
My mom was mostly sympathetic. She questioned me about what happened and why I hadn’t gone to the toilet at school. She told me that I was being ridiculous by refusing to go at school when I needed to, and that she expected it to stop.
Well, I didn’t change my behaviour, but managed to stay accident-free for a few more weeks. Then came a fateful trip to the mall. We lived in a pretty rural area and the closest mall was about 45 minutes away. We went to the mall, ran some errands, window shopped, ate some greasy food court food and then headed for home.
Mom ordered everyone to use the restroom before we left. The ladies was crowded and I really had to poop, but I didn’t want to go with so many people there. I told myself that I could definitely hold it until I got home, so I just did a pee and went back to the car.
Twenty minutes later, my stomach began gurgling and I was starting to regret my decision. Somehow I managed to hold on all the way home. Mom pulled in and before the car had even come to a complete stop, I unbuckled and ran for the house. However, as soon as my butt was off the seat, I completely pooped my pants, complete with loud, embarrassing noises that attracted the attention of everyone in the car.
My older brother, who is extremely tender-hearted and hated to see anything happen to his little sister, was immediately concerned. “Oh no, Jill! Are you OK? Are you sick?”
My younger sibling, by contrast, was (and still is) the typical annoying little brother, and he immediately began teasing in a sing-song voice: “Jilly pooped her pants! Jilly pooped her pants!”
My mom just looked pissed and ordered me into the bathroom. She followed me in there and supervised the clean up, scolding me the whole time. She told me: “I’m sick of this – you’re a disgrace! You’re embarrassed to poop in public, huh? Well, how embarrassed are you now?”
I was humiliated and began to cry. I was a complete mess and Mom made me wipe myself off with toilet paper. I begged to be allowed to shower but she refused. Wiping with toilet paper was time-consuming and awful. When it was done, she let me have a wet rag to finish.
Then she made me dunk my underwear in the toilet and rinse everything out. While I was doing that, she brought me a bottle of Spray ‘n Wash to get the stains out. I sprayed and scrubbed and finally got them mostly clean. Then Mom told me she was sick of this situation. It had better stop –and she was going to ensure that it stopped.
She made me put my hands on the sink, bend over and stick my butt way out. Then she started hand spanking me. I got my bottom slapped hard about 30 times.
The whole time she was spanking me, I was staring at my stained panties in the sink. They had smiley faces on them and I remember thinking: “Well, at least someone is happy.”
It was by no means one of the hardest spankings I ever had but it was extremely humiliating. I was 11 years old and here I was being spanked like a toddler for pooping my pants.
After the spanking, Mom sent me to my room, bare from the waist down because my jeans and undies were headed to the wash.
My little brother had been skulking around and he added to my misery by observing: “First your butt was brown, but now it’s all red.” I stopped myself from hitting him because that would have meant more spanks. Fortunately my mother chased him off and I was free to go and be miserable and think about my behaviour.