Four years ago, when I turned thirty-two, I realized I hadn't yet overcome my fears of taking a dump in public. Somehow, this made me feel like I was less of a man. So I decided on that day that I would embark on a journey to relieve myself of my Shameful behavior. Anytime I felt even the smallest urge to poop, I would take a detour to the nearest store in hopes of finding at least a two-stall restroom. Over time, I found myself letting go (excuse the pun) a little more with each attempt. However, mostly all I've ever gotten out in public was a couple farts and some piss afterwards. No poop.
After four years of my journey, I've reached the point where I am not Shameful at all. I walk into the restroom and, regardless if I see someone I know, I go right into the nearest stall, where I pull down my pants and sit on the throne, hoping the anal god will unleash his wrath inside the sacrifice hole.
Today I was at Lowe's, and I had been cramping all day. Suddenly, it hit: the anus god was making his move and he wasn't stopping. I clenched my sphincters as tight as they could be clenched as I hurried to the restroom at the other end of the store. Entering, I was shocked to find that it was a twelve- stall set-up. Even more to my surprise, not a soul sat or stood in the restroom.
"Great," I thought, "wouldn't be a pretty sight, anyway."
As soon as I sat down, I released chunks of poo for two seconds -- until someone came walking in.
"What the hell?" I thought. I wasn't ashamed -- and I was more than prepared to continue my hellish anal fury! But it seemed as though my mind was playing a horrible joke with me. I sat there with my bowels twisting in pain and, regardless of how much I pushed, nothing would come out.
And then -- as soon as this guy left from taking a leak, it all started coming out again, like it hadn't even stopped. My poop had turned into a normal flow -- I clearly wasn't done yet. Still, as "luck" would have it, another guy came in; but instead of taking a leak, he chose the stall right next to me and did his business.
I sat there for five minutes waiting for this guy to leave. All the while I was pushing as hard as I could. And when the man finally left, my anus released its firm grip and allowed me to poop.
As soon as I was done, I hurried the hell out of there. What is wrong with me? I was not Shameful -- I walked right in there and made no effort to hide my actions. Is it possible that my ass isn't yet ready to enter the world of the Shameless? What man in his right mind would hold in painful cramps when the water was but four inches from the bum? Am I ill?
-- Tama