Love to Shit Girls - Mistress Diarrhea In Jeans

It was a sunny day as Mistress Diarrhea decided to indulge in her favorite pastime: filling up tight denim with her explosive, messy diarrhea. She knew she had a significant amount of it built up in her intestines, and the thought of unleashing it all was overwhelmingly arousing. Mistress chose her favorite pair of high-waisted, form-fitting jeans, the kind that hugged her curves and left little to the imagination. Slowly, she slid them up over her thighs, enjoying the feel of the fabric against her sensitive skin. She held them in place for a moment, savoring the anticipation of what was to come, before reaching behind and unfastening her pants.

Mistress Diarrhea lowered herself onto the toilet seat, teasingly spreading her legs apart. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to contain the force within her. It was no use; she knew it was only a matter of time before her asscheeks began to quiver with the urge to expel the massive load of diarrhea building up in her. With a loud, guttural moan, she released it all into the toilet bowl. Her stomach convulsed as wave after wave of hot, thick liquid poured out of her, filling the bowl to the brim and spilling over onto the floor. The sight and sound of her watery feces splashing against the porcelain was already driving her to new heights of ecstasy.

She pressed her hand against her clitoris, feeling it swell and throb with orgasmic pleasure as she continued to empty her bowels into the toilet. Finally, when she could no longer bear the intensity of her own arousal, she pulled the plug and watched in amazement as the mess of brown and yellow water swirled down the drain. Still trembling with excitement, she extracted the mostly-filled jeans from the toilet and walked over to the sink. She turned on the cold water and began to rinse the excess feces from her jeans, enjoying the feel of the pools of diarrhea dripping down her legs.

She squeezed out as much of the watery feces as she could, knowing that the residue left behind would be a constant reminder of her most recent indulgence. Mistress Diarrhea dried off her hands and turned to face her reflection in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back from her sweaty forehead. As she stared at her flushed, satisfied face reflected back at her, she knew that she had truly found her calling. There was something about the anonymous, degrading pleasure of filling another woman's tight jeans with her own messy diarrhea that filled her with a sense of power and control like no other.

With a grin that stretched from ear to ear, she left the bathroom to find another unsuspecting victim. She knew there were many more out there, waiting for their turn to feel the hot, sticky embrace of Mistress Diarrhea's diarrhea in their jeans.