“We’re in trouble,” said Myrna. Her blonde hair had been bleached white by many days in the sun. Her sunburnt skin was peeling. Her lips were cracked. She trudged along the dirt road in men’s boots that were too big for her and giving her blisters. In one hand she carried an empty bucket which had contained water. She and Elsteen had had nothing to drink since the previous morning. They hadn’t eaten for three days. “We can’t keep going like this. We’ll make ourselves sick.”
“What we really need is money,” said Elsteen. Her once-plump rump was looking a little emaciated for Myrna’s taste. “Then we could buy provisions instead of relying on what we find on the road.”
“How are we going to get money?”
Elsteen didn’t answer as they crossed a stone bridge and entered the town of Corse’s Brook. This was the fourth town they had entered since leaving Holston. At Frieth, the first town, the women had asked a man in the street whether he knew where Hiphthasa the Enchantress was.
“Ah,” he had said. “Are you groupies?”
“Sorry?” Myrna had said.
“You know. Groupies. The Enchantress has a multitude of men—and women—admirers who try to follow her on the road.”
“I guess we are.”
“Well, all I can tell you is she lives far south. She travels around a lot but she always returns to her castle in the south. That’d be the most reliable way to find her, I reckon.”
The women had thanked him for his help.
“I hadn’t heard of these groupies before,” Myrna had told Elsteen. “That might be one way we can get close to the Enchantress.”
They had asked the same question in every town since Frieth and got much the same answer every time. Corse’s Brook was a small town: a cluster of stone houses built round a cobbled market square bustling with activity. Hawker’s pushing barrows cried their wares. The women wove their way through the crowd.
“Shall we stop here,” said Myrna, “or keep going and hope we reach the next town before dark?”
“I can’t go on anymore. Let’s stop here for the night.”
Myrna looked round furtively. She lightly held her breath, the corners of her mouth tightening briefly. This, Elsteen knew, was Myrna’s tell for farting.
“Great!” She threw her hands in the air. “I sharted!” She was oblivious to the looks she drew from passersby.
“Haha! Good! Now you’ll finally have to change those panties.” Myrna was wearing the same panties she’d pissed on the hayride. Myrna had kept her promise to steal Elsteen a new pair of panties to replace the ones she’d shit, but Elsteen couldn’t understand why she hadn’t also stolen herself a fresh pair. Elsteen was fond of the smell of fresh piss but couldn’t abide stale piss. Myrna’s panties had grown stale.
“I don’t know why you’ve turned into such a fucken bitch these last few days!”
“Because I’ve been travelling with a total cunt!”
“Well I didn’t treat you like this when you shit your pants!”
Elsteen sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m tired and hungry and… I’m sorry.”
Myrna started to cry. Elsteen put her arm round her. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She led her down an alley.
A man followed them. This man was followed a moment later by another and then another and yet another. Halfway down the alley, Myrna spun round and screamed, “Fuck off, perverts!”
“Wait!” said Elsteen, grabbing Myrna’s arm but looking at the four men. “If you want to watch, you have to pay. One copper each.”
The men looked at each other, then at Elsteen, then at Myrna. They seemed to give it some thought and then each man pulled out his purse and tossed Elsteen a copper coin.
“All right, then. I guess here’s as good a place as any.” She and Myrna were alone in the alley with the four men and could not be seen from the streets at either end.
Myrna lifted her skirt, revealing white cotton panties with a yellow stain in the front and a brown streak down the back. Putting her thumbs behind the waistband, she let her panties fall to her ankles and stepped out of them. She popped a squat, Elsteen holding her skirt high for her so that the men might have a better view. One man came round to watch from the front but the other three preferred to watch from behind. Myrna released a squirt of watery diarrhea. She paused, taking a few deep breaths, before releasing two smaller squirts mixed with gas. Sighing with relief, she got up and took a bow. The men applauded.
They were just about to walk away when Elsteen called, “Wait!” She picked Myrna’s panties up off the ground, dusting them off. “What am I bid for this beautiful pair of used panties with the scent of their owner still fresh on them?” She sniffed the crotch. “Mmmm!” The shit had freshened them up a bit. “Shall we start the bidding at two coppers? Do I hear two coppers?”
“Two coppers,” said one man.
“Three coppers,” said another.
“Three coppers! Do I hear four?”
“Four,” said the first man.
“Six,” said the second.
“Six coppers! Do I hear more?”
The first man emptied his denizli escort purse into his palm and counted what was there. “Eight coppers.”
“Eight coppers! Do I hear nine?”
One of the other men spoke up. “One silver piece.”
“One silver piece! Will anyone top that?” The man who had emptied his purse walked away. “Going once! Going twice! Going three times! Sold to the gentleman for one silver piece!” Elsteen gave him the panties. “Thank you very much, sir.” She pocketed the coin.
When all the men had gone, the two women and jumped up and down, arms linked, squealing.
“How easy was that?” said Elsteen.
“You were amazing!”
“No sleeping out in the open tonight! We’re staying at the inn!”
The inn was on the other side of the market square. As they approached, Elsteen noticed the sign swinging above the door. “Hey, Myrna, look at that!”
“The Enchantress’ Panties.”
“Cheeky name for an inn.”
They stopped beneath the sign. Beside the name was a picture of white bikini briefs printed with runes and magic symbols.
“I wonder if that’s what they really look like,” said Elsteen.
“I suppose we’ll find out one day.”
That night they ate dinner in the common room of the inn, their first hot meal since leaving Holston. Myrna disappeared for a few hours, returning to their room with six pairs of panties.
“Why do you need so many?” Elsteen asked.
“One for me,” said said, putting on a pair of pale blue panties. “And the rest… you’ll see.”
They shared the room’s only bed. Too tired for sex, they simply cuddled up and surrendered to sleep. It rained overnight, but for the first time since they began their journey, they were sheltered from the elements. They woke up horny and ravished each other till lunchtime.
After they had eaten downstairs, they went for a stroll through the market square, stopping to look at various stalls but not buying. When they had worked their way to the middle of the square, Myrna nudged Elsteen. “No matter what happens, just play along with me.”
Myrna grabbed her crotch. “Aw! I need to pee.”
“You should’ve gone in the chamber pot back in our room before we left.”
“I’m not sure I can hold it!” She was drawing furtive glances from passersby.
“Let’s head back to the inn.”
“Oh no!” She lifted her skirt up to her knees so that people could see the pee trickling down the inside of her legs into her boots. “Too late!” She made her way to the alley she had pooped in yesterday. Elsteen followed.
“Did you just piss yourself on purpose?”
“You’re not playing along very well,” Myrna whispered.
“You’re not acting very convincingly.”
“Just wait and see.” One by one men began to follow. She waited for them in the middle of the alley. When a small group had gathered, Myrna auctioned off her pissed panties. Fetching only six coppers; she was a little disappointed. As the group began to disperse, Myrna put up her hands and shouted, “Wait! I’ve still got more used panties for sale.” She pulled out a pair she’d shoved down her blouse between her breasts. “How about these? They’ve been washed but you can still see a period stain.” Bidding resumed and Myrna sold all six pairs of panties.
“I admire your business acumen,” Elsteen said, the men having left.
“I learnt from the best.”
They were about to return to the square when a familiar man appeared in the mouth of the alley and approached them.
“How are my panties?” Myrna asked.
“You wouldn’t want them back now.” He laughed. He was well dressed; probably a merchant, Myrna thought. “They were worth every penny.”
“So what brings you here today?”
“Well, I heard from some friends that you were selling more used panties.”
“I’m sorry but we’ve run out. I can get some more for you, though.”
“Well, that’s what I want to see you about. I don’t just want any pair of panties. You see, there’s this lady in town that I’ve always had a crush on and well… I’d like to hire you to procure a pair of her panties, if I may.”
“It’ll cost you.”
“I was thinking one silver up front and one silver upon completion.”
“I’m interested. Tell me more”
He described where this lady lived and warned Myrna that she kept dogs. Finally they shook hands and he gave her a silver coin. “Don’t let me down. I’ll meet you here again tomorrow, at dawn.”
“Let’s go to the butcher’s,” Myrna said, grabbing Elsteen’s hand.
“Why do you need to buy meat? They’ll serve us dinner at the inn.”
“It’s not for me, it’s for the job. I just need some cheap cuts.”
Myrna cased the joint with Elsteen while there was still daylight left. The lady the merchant admired lived on the edge of town in a distinctive two-storey house with a tile roof and a small, well-tended garden out front. Myrna got the impression that this woman was probably married to a rival merchant. The backyard was fenced off to keep in the dogs. She wasn’t sure how she would get dikimevi escort round the back, whether she would just use the side gate or jump the back fence. She led Elsteen back down the street and turned left then left again, coming at last to the house behind the lady’s to check whether she could get in or out that way.
Satisfied, she said, “We should get back to the inn. We wouldn’t want to miss dinner.” She grabbed Elsteen’s butt. “You need to fill out a bit more.”
As they ate at a table in the common room, they were approached by a man who asked whether he could sit with them. They slid along the bench so that he could squeeze in between them and some other man they didn’t know.
“Word round town is that you ladies cater to certain… specific needs.”
The women looked at each other. “Perhaps,” said Elsteen. “What do you mean?”
“Well”—he cleared his throat and lowered his voice—”I have desires that my wife can’t fulfill.”
“Um, sir,” said Myrna, “if you’re asking what I think you’re asking, you’re mistaken; we don’t do that.”
“Hang on,” said Elsteen. “This isn’t the place to discuss this. I think you should leave us to finish dinner, sir, and then come up to our room.”
“You’re not seriously considering this, are you?” Myrna asked once he had left.
“Of course I am. We’ve got a long, expensive journey ahead of us. We need every penny we can get. Anyway, we’ll se what he wants first and we’ll lay out some ground rules.”
“We don’t just need money, we need information. We still have no idea where we’re going or how to get there.”
Their prospective client was waiting for them outside their room. “You’re keen,” Myrna said.
Elsteen opened the door. “Come in.”
The women sat on the bed. The man stood before them with his hands clasped in front of his manhood.
“So. What can we do for you?” said Elsteen.
“Well, as I was saying before, I have certain needs that aren’t met at home. Specifically, I would like to be… you know…”—the women leant forward—”a toilet slave.” He let out a long breath.
“Well,” said Elsteen, looking at Myrna. “I think we could accommodate that. There would be no penetration, of course?”
“Of course not. Although I hope you don’t mind if I masturbate while you’re using me.”
“That wouldn’t be a problem.”
“And another thing. I would like you”—he looked at Elsteen—”to be my mistress. If the other lady would like to use me, she would have to ask your permission.”
“Okay. That leaves one more thing to discuss. Price.”
She named a figure. He didn’t try to haggle.
“Oh, and another thing,” he said. “Always wear panties while you’re using me.”
“Please wear panties when you’re doing your business.”
“Are you telling me what to do?”
“Of course I’m telling you what to do; I’m paying for it.”
“I don’t like your tone, slave. You don’t tell me what to do; I tell you what to do.”
“Ah. I’m sorry, mistress. Please forgive me.”
“Lie down on the floor.” He obeyed. Hiking up her skirt, she sat over his open mouth, the delightful aroma of her panties filling his nostrils. Farting, she pissed full force through her panties. His mouth filled to overflowing. He tried to drink it all but couldn’t keep up. As the flow of her urine faded to a trickle, she looked down over her shoulder at the man on the floor. “Is that what you were looking for?”
He nodded awkwardly.
Squeezing the last few drops from her bladder, she got up. “Look at the mess you made! It’s all over the floor.” She kicked him in the ribs. “Get up! On your knees and lick it up!”
“Yes, mistress.” He stuck his hand down his trousers and masturbated while he lapped the pee off the floor.
“I expect you back here early tomorrow morning before you go to work so that I can use you again.”
“Yes, mistress.” He was on all fours, looking up at her with big eyes.
“We won’t be in town long, but I mean to use you as often as possible for as long as possible.”
“I am unworthy, mistress, to be your personal chamber pot.”
“Yes, you are. You don’t know how unworthy.”
“Will that be all for today, mistress?”
She nodded. He settled the bill and left.
Myrna lifted up Elsteen’s skirt. She gasped. “Look at your panties! Maybe I can lick them clean for you.”
“You can give it a try.”
Myrna did. Elsteen orgasmed.
“It’s no use,” Myrna said. “I’m going to have to steal you a new pair.”
“Steal me several pairs. If I’m going to be this guy’s toilet mistress, I’m going to go through them pretty quickly. We can always sell them once I’ve used them. And steal yourself a new a pair as well. You’ve been going around pantiless half the day.”
“I will.” She kissed Elsteen on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
It was dark outside. She carried two cuts of meat wrapped in paper. She returned to the two-storey house she had checked out earlier. The windows were dikmen escort unlit. The dogs began to bark as she crossed the front yard, but she couldn’t hear any signs of activity from inside the house. Unwrapping the meat, she tossed it over the fence to the dogs, pacifying them. The gate creaked but Myrna was experienced enough to know that even if the occupants of the house were awake, they probably wouldn’t hear. She left it open. Having eaten, the dogs followed quietly, watching Myrna expectantly. The clothesline was a length of rope strung across the patio. Suspended from wooden pegs were a pair of trousers, a man’s shirt, a couple of dresses and two pairs of panties, one large, one small. She carefully unpegged both pairs of panties and tucked them behind the waistband of her skirt. The dogs—she only just now realized that they were large black hounds—tried to follow her out but she managed to shut the gate on them. She set off down the street looking for her next target. She had a productive night, returning to the inn with an armload of panties, which she dumped at the foot of the bed before climbing in with Elsteen.
It was still dark when Myrna woke the next morning. She tried not to disturb Elsteen as she got out of bed but woke her up anyway. And she was really shitty about it. In no mood for an argument, Myrna decided she would make her way to the alley to meet the merchant even though she would be early. It was foggy and cold and Myrna had a long wait before the man showed up.
“How’d you go?” he asked, his breath misting in the early morning light.
“I got two pairs of panties,” she said, pulling them from the waistband of her skirt. “I don’t know which you want. They obviously belong to two different people.”
“Let me see.”
She handed him the bigger pair first. He held the mauve cotton control briefs up in front of his face, the waistband stretched between his thumbs. “These are hers. She’s put on a bit of weight over the years but she’s still hot.”
“What should I do with the other pair?”
“I’ll take them as well. For another silver piece. You did well.” She gave him the smaller pair. He sniffed the crotch of the plain white panties. “She’s looks just like her mother did at her age. She’s mine, you know, but she doesn’t know it. She’s getting married next month.” Myrna smiled. “Well, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” He placed two silver coins in her palm then took off down the alley.
Myrna waited a moment so that she would not be following him then returned to the inn. When she opened the door to her room, she found Elsteen sitting on the face of her toilet slave, her skirt bunched up round her waist, the scent of poop in the air.
“My slave and I were just having a discussion about punctuality. He was late this morning and I pooped my pants.” She wiggled her bum, rubbing her poopy panties in his face.
Myrna gave a mock gasp. “What a disobedient, unreliable slave! Say, I’m busting for the loo. Do you mind if I use your toilet?”
“Of course not.” She rose, keeping her skirt bunched up in her fists so it would not be soiled. “Go ahead.”
Myrna selected a pair of panties from the mound at the foot of the bed. These she put on before sitting on the man’s pooped-covered face. Sighing, she emptied her bladder. She could feel him licking her pussy as he tried to drink her urine. “Aah! I needed that.”
Elsteen gave her a hand to get up. “Turn around. I want to see your panties.” The white fabric was see-through where it was wet. “There’s poop stuck to them!” She laughed. The man on the floor began to wank. Elsteen charged him double for the privilege of being a toilet for two mistresses.
Word spread through Corse’s Brook and over the next few nights more men turned up at their room. Some wanted to watch them wet or poop their panties. Others wanted to be toilet slaves. One man was content to watch them romp round the room in nothing but their panties. They all paid well and the following day the women would sell their wet or soiled panties on the black market. Whenever they were running low on panties, Myrna would steal more. But they thought their luck had run out when one morning the innkeeper knocked on their door and asked them to follow him downstairs to the common room.
“This is Lord Limm,” he said, visibly nervous, indicating a balding, middle-aged man wearing a dark velvet jacket trimmed with lace at the neck and cuffs sitting at a table flanked by toughs. “He asked to speak with you girls.”
“Ah, ladies,” said Lord Limm, setting down his mug of ale and rising. “Please, join me.” He indicated the bench on the opposite side of the table. Beside his mug was a sheaf of papers. He resumed his seat. “No doubt the innkeeper’s told you who I am. And what are your names?”
“I’m Myrna and this is Elsteen.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’ll come straight to the point. I’ve heard that you ladies cater to unusual tastes in your work.”
Myrna gave Elsteen a cautious look. She wondered whether the lord was trying to trick them into a confession so that he could arrest them. “What exactly do you want?”
“Well, I have a… predilection… for scenarios in which a lady is desperate to use a chamber pot and ends up having an accident. Is that the sort of thing that you ladies might cater to?”