A Knight's Tale

The sky was a ensemble of deep reds and oranges as the sun dipped below the western treetops. The dusk created a troupe of dancing shadows across the worn, dusty path. Throughout the forest, the songs of pre-nocturnal insects and hunters rang out, accompanied by the rhythmic clopping of a horse's hooves.

Chris Lightfellow took in the splendor of the Zexan forest in the dying light of day. For her, it was always a treat to pass through the serene woodland on her way home to the Capitol after a long day like the one she had just experienced. She sighed heavily and brushed a stray strand of her snow white hair behind her ear. A whole day, from dawn to dusk, spent traveling from town to town, meeting to meeting hoping to put an end to an age old war, only to accomplish nothing. It seemed so pointless, but the slow ride home through the beautiful forest seemed to add something to the day. It was a small comfort, but at least she could claim the day wasn’t a total waste.

Her lithe body swayed in sync with the horse’s as it trotted through the woods. Her platinum armor clinked as she rode and the slight breeze cooled her legs. In the distance, she could see a small, clear pond. She rode up to it and dismounted.

She knelt for a drink and caught a glimpse of her reflection. Her physical appearance reflected the stress she experienced through the day. Her hair was mused and her features were worn and tired. Still, she was a beautiful woman. At twenty-five years of age, she was the youngest Zexan Knight Captain in the history of the great nation. Her skin was pulled tight against her womanish figure. Her hair, a gleaming white, was the envy of women for miles and her lavender eyes seemed to pierce people to their very core. Her breastplate was light but offered more than enough protection. A heavy leather skirt covered her legs and a long sword hung at her hips.

She sipped from the clean pond and re-mounted her steed. As she climbed back into the saddle, she felt a sudden shift in her bowel. She grimaced sightly as an aching fullness settled itself in the pit of her stomach. She passed gas, but it didn’t relieve much pressure. She still felt bloated and uncomfortable and to worsen matters, her bladder felt overfull and she needed to urinate.

She muttered an oath under her breath. She had no one to blame for her discomfort but herself. In all the commotion and excitement of the day, her basic needs had been ignored. Each meeting and each town had offered plenty to eat and drink, but Chris hadn’t found a chance to relieve herself all day. The pain was uncomfortable, but bearable. Despite the calm appearance of the surrounding woods, they were home to several varieties of monsters and some viscous bandits. Badly as she needed to go, she wasn’t willing to drop her defenses to answer nature's call. At least, not yet.

“Hopefully,” she muttered to herself, “I’ll be able to make it home.”

A daunting two and a half hour ride stood between Chris and relief, and the pressure in both her bladder and bowel was increasing steadily. Sixty minutes into the ride, she was afraid she wouldn’t last and it became clear to her that she was going to have to make a choice. Either she was going to have to risk letting her guard down in one of the nearby shrubs, or she was going to have to go in her panties.

She could handle pissing herself. Her undergarments would be dry before she got home, and a hot bath with cinnamon scented incense burning would make her all but forget about her accident. In addition, her thick cotton panties would absorb the fluid easily and the pee wouldn’t soak her skirt. No, she decided, wetting herself wouldn’t be so bad. But shitting herself ... disgusting! She was so involved with her internal conflict that she failed to notice the nearby bushes rustling.

Thirty minutes later, she could bear it no longer. She slowly slid off her horse and hunched forward. Her arms were wrapped around her abdomen. As she battled her intestines, her bladder released. A hot river of golden water poured from between her legs, saturating her cotton panties and running down the insides of her thighs. She could feel her cottons getting wetter, soaking the seat of her panties and dripping to the ground.

The relief was incredible, and Chris lost herself in it. Almost before it was to late she realized a log of shit had begun pushing out of her anus and was already pressing up against the insides of her panties. She managed to regain control, but it was now or never. She had to decide.

At heart, Chris was a Knight and defense was her primary concern. As much as the idea of soiling her panties disgusted her, it was more important to protect herself than protect her dignity.

She relaxed and immediately a rush of soft shit rushed into the seat of her panties. She felt them bulging and sagging as the feces pushed themselves into the cramped area. Some of the softer, wetter poo squished past her leg holes and plopped loudly on the ground. She felt several pounds lighter when she finished, but the smell was awful. And she was repulsed.

Although the deed had been done in solitude, Chris' face burned red with shame. She had messed herself like a little girl. Thirteen years ago she had pooped her pants while with a group of her schoolmates. They had been quick to mock her and the sounds of the forest that had been so relaxing before seemed now to take up where her peers had left off. If any of her subordinates had witnessed this she was certain they'd have lost all respect for her.

As she waddled behind a thick oak to empty her panties of their load, she reprimanded herself for being so foolish. The decision to soil herself had been to hasty. These woods, while they held their share of dangers, were pretty safe. The chances of her getting attacked in the middle of defecating were slim. What she had done was stupid and degrading and she couldn't help being angry with herself.

Behind the tree, Chris dropped her sword to the ground and raised her skirt. She pulled the heavy panties to her ankles and gasped. Her panties were filled with brown semi-mush. They were slightly yellowed and streaks of poop ran down her legs. Shit was smeared all over her ass. Cleanup was going to take some time.
“I see the Zexan bitches aren’t house broken,” a cold feminine voice said. Chris spun around, reaching for her sword at the same time. She gasped when her hand grabbed nothing but air. “What’s the matter shitty one,” her female captor taunted, holding Chris’ weapon above her head. “Lose something?”

To Be Continued?