****** Panties for Mr. Snoid by Sally and Mr. Snoid ******
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Panties for Mr. Snoid


Kate peeled the panties down to her knees and inspected the contents. As she
bent down and her long blonde hair flowed over her shoulders, the smell hit her
first. It was the smell of unwashed cunt and dried shit; a foul, stale smell.
She grimaced and opened up the crotch of the panties with her fingers. Thick
shit stains smeared the back of the panties and crusty white traces of piss and
her cunt juices stained the front. The panties were not attractive in
themselves either; they were her oldest pair, no longer white but grey and
coming apart at the seams, yet these foul panties were worth $1,000. Anything
can be valuable if there is a demand, she thought, and yet what a strange
demand!

She had known 'Mr. Snoid', as he called himself, for over a year and yet had
never met or seen him. Theirs was a strange, twilight, internet relationship.
Kate had met more than her fair share of jerks on the web and she initially
presumed Mr. Snoid (he had never revealed a first name) was the same. Yet
somehow the exchange of E-mails had persisted. Maybe because he was never
overtly sexual. For example, he never pestered her for personal details about
her private life or asked her creepy things like the size and shape of her
nipples. Kate knew very well that Mr. Snoid was a pervert - he openly admitted
his lusts for every fluid that came out of a woman's body (even boogers!), but
he did it in a lovable way that she couldn't resist. His E-mails made her
laugh. He was vulnerable and human, she even found herself having 'love
moments' for him which was ridiculous as she was a grown woman, married, with a
loving husband and two lovely children.

Kate knew little about Mr. Snoid's private life. She knew he was married and
fairly wealthy as he spent a lot of time on the web and yet seemed to travel
extensively and have no money problems. This was unlike herself; her husband
had been in a series of low-paid jobs ever since becoming unemployed eight
years earlier, around the time they started having children.

Kate felt that Mr. Snoid must like her a great deal. He seemed to value her
opinion on a lot of deep philosophical issues, so that their brief mentions of
sex in their correspondence were almost an add-on. It was difficult for them to
chat on-line. Mr. Snoid was in the States and she was in England, so the timing
was difficult, but the few times they had managed left Kate breathless. Gone
was the cool, rational Mr. Snoid, to be replaced by smoldering passion. His
desire for her burned through his words and Kate was shocked. It was during one
of these exchanges that Mr. Snoid asked for her panties. Kate thought it was
just his way of being amusing; it was such an old cliché. Mr. Snoid tried to
play it down too, but she could see that it would mean a lot to him and for
almost no effort on her part she could make him happy. To try and stall him she
jokingly complained of the cost of panties and post to the States but
immediately Mr. Snoid offered her $1,000 for them. Kate thought he was joking
until the following week a letter arrived enclosing a check for $1,000 and a
hand-written list of 'instructions'. Here is what the list actually said:

Kate,

I am offering you $1,000 for a pair of your used panties. I know you must be
thinking that $1,000 in U.S. currency is a lot to pay for some panties, but I'm
not asking for ordinary panties. No, I'm looking for a special pair, one that
will always be my masturbation companion, one that offers me a part of you, one
that will make you my whore. For this check you will send me a pair of your
panties that has reached the end of its life cycle. You will not send me any
new panties. The panties must be old and they must have holes in them from
natural wear. I will check to make sure they are natural holes. Don't try to
fool me.

You might feel disgusted, humiliated, and completely degraded when you take an
old stained, worn out pair of panties and send them to me for my perverted
pleasure. If you do feel degraded, that might even please me a little.

Before sending a pair of panties to me you must follow these instructions to
the letter. Do not deviate from them to the slightest degree. Don't even
consider doing anything other than following my instructions. I will know if
you fail to follow any of them. Here is what I want you to do:

1. Take an old pair of panties you want to throw away that are completely worn
out.

2. Wear the pair for one full day, putting them on when you first wake up and
wearing them at least until you wake up the next morning.

3. You must poop at least once during the time you are wearing the panties. You
may not wipe yourself. Instead, put the panties back on. Do not remove the
panties until you poop at least once. When you pee, do not wipe. Let the
panties absorb your juices.

4. Then, before you take them off, you must masturbate in them. Use a vibrator
(buy one if you don't have one), pushing it against your clit through the
fabric of your panties. Make sure you create plenty of lubrication to soak the
crotch of your panties. If you must reach several orgasms to soak the panties
with your cum, do so. Do not enjoy any of the orgasms. You must suppress all
feelings of pleasure. You are doing this for my pleasure not yours, my whore.

5. Then slowly remove your panties. Smell the disgusting mixture of your bodily
wastes. Think about me gagging and fighting the urge to vomit when I receive
some filthy disgusting panties from a nasty slut like you.

6. Place the panties in a zip lock bag. Remove as much air as you can from the
bag by patting it down, then seal it completely. Put the bag in another zip
lock bag and seal it too.

7. Place the two bags containing one pair of your disgusting used panties in a
plain brown cardboard mailing envelope. Address it to... (he provided his
mailing address).

8. Mail it.

OK, you have your instructions. Do it.


Kate trembled as she held the check - $1,000 was a lot of money to her and yet
Mr. Snoid had sent it without a second thought. He first reaction was to seal
both items back in the envelope and post them straight back. And yet.... And
yet.... Her imagination started to work on what $1,000 would be able to buy;
new clothes for her, new clothes the kids needed.... She started to justify it
to herself: If Mr. Snoid has so much money that he can afford to throw $1,000
away on someone he only knows via the web then he obviously won't miss it if I
spend it. The instructions were explicit and filthy; the money was not the only
thing that made her tremble....

Kate didn't comply (or cash the check) immediately. She hid the letter away
from her husband and carried on as normal. She had always been successful at
separating her 'net life' & 'real life' and yet now they seemed to be on a
collision course. Kate wrote an E-mail to Mr. Snoid, thanked him for the
generous offer but told him she was 'thinking about it....'

I guess it took the right set of circumstances for it to happen. Kate slipped
on an old, worn-out pair of knickers that day (either unconsciously or
subconsciously), she had some time free in the afternoon and at lunch-time she
found herself in the toilet, passing a messy shit, resulting from a curry the
previous evening. This is the kind of thing Mr. Snoid would like, she thought
grimly. She often thought of him and how he would react to the situations she
was in, as though he were some bizarre alter ego. It was then that she
remembered his instructions. If she didn't wipe now, merely pulled up...yew! It
was too disgusting to think about, so she didn't: without further thought she
simply stood up, pulled up the panties into the slippery crack of her ass and
left the cubicle. The sensation as she walked of her buttocks sliding against
each other over the wet shit was disgusting and Kate was self-conscious that
there may also be a smell rising up from her crotch. Kate felt about six years
old, like a dirty little schoolgirl who was not yet in control of her own
functions. She realized that controlling your own hygiene was one of the things
that made people civilized and to deliberately disregard it like this was a
rebellion against civilization. It threw her back to a more primeval time,
where life was more lusty. She couldn't help it; she began to feel aroused by
her own dirtiness. The sensation was so strong that she felt herself becoming
wet. She couldn't believe it and was disgusted by her own behavior.

When she got home she was ripe and ready to masturbate to assuage these
feelings, yet to follow Mr. Snoid's instructions to the letter she would have
to masturbate without pleasure. Kate undressed reluctantly, as though for a
medical examination. Finally she peeled down the $1,000 panties and inspected
the crotch. The smell was awful, base and carnal, but at the same time
aphrodisiacal. Kate pulled the panties back up as instructed, fetched her
vibrator, then lay down on her bed, legs parted and tried to slip her mind into
neutral. She had never managed to come before without some sexy image in her
mind. She had always needed her imagination to take her to orgasm, now she was
relying on her own wetness and the stench coming from her dirty ass and
panties. It was hard. Normally she liked to have free access to her clit and
vagina whilst masturbating. The panties covering her mound seemed to muffle the
whole experience, frustrating her longing for blessed sexual release. It took
her more than thirty minutes of rubbing her clit through the panties and
thrusting the vibrator futilely against her panty clad cunt to do it. Her
vaginal muscles ached with the prolonged tension of trying to cum and when she
finally did she groaned loudly and tears filled her eyes at the effort it had
taken.

Kate glanced at the clock, she felt drained and exhausted and yet she needed to
hurry to school to pick up the kids. Mr. Snoid had asked for 'several orgasms'.
Surely there was no way she could achieve another? Yet to cheat on him now
would be to void their contract. Once again Kate began to rub her sore cunt.
This time it was painful and she no longer felt aroused. Was this what he
wanted her to feel? The panties clinging to her pussy were soaked, drenched in
her juices. By sheer will power and vigorous use of her fingers and vibrator
she once again tried to bring herself to orgasm, one eye all the time on the
clock. It was probably one of the most difficult things she had ever done.
Tears of frustration poured freely down her cheeks. She cursed Mr. Snoid at
what he was making her do. But then, the reality dawned on her. It wasn't some
stranger who was making her do this, it was her own desire. She didn't have to
do this - she could have cheated, lied, pretended - he would ever have known.
No, she was doing this because she wished to be dominated, to be told what to
do, even if it meant pain and humiliation. As the full extent of her own
horrific secret, subconscious desires became known to her Kate was
simultaneously revolted and aroused by herself. At this moment of heightened
self-awareness she climaxed powerfully, moaning uncontrollably and rolling on
the bed.

Eventually Kate rose, trembling with fatigue and self-knowledge, from the bed.
She struggled out of the wretched panties, slipped them into a small plastic
bag and thrust them at the bottom of her underwear drawer.

The next day, in a calmer, accepting mood, she posted the panties to Mr. Snoid
then went to the bank and cashed the check. Whatever way she tried to look at
it she had betrayed her family and become Mr. Snoid's whore. What was worse,
she knew she enjoyed it. She wondered to what further depths she would sink if
he only asked....

Comments to: Sally34@hotmail.com

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