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Chapter IV – Next to Godliness

Felicity swung her legs out of bed and admired the funky yellow stains decorating her nightgown. *It’s been too long since I could wet the bed …* she pressed her sticky thighs together and spread the soiled fabric over her lap. Anne sashayed into the bedroom with coffee and an air kiss. “You’re wearing a watercolor, you ought to frame it.”

“Huh, interesting idea.” Felicity stripped off her sleeping gown and draped it over a chair. “God, I smell like a goat! What condition are your undies in?”

With a smile, Anne pulled her tunic up exposing the knickers she wore last night glistening with cum and fresh pee. “Ah ha, another goat. Will you contribute to my exhibition?”

Anne slid her finger along the edge of her leg opening and pulled the dark yellow fabric away from her crotch displaying a sticky, flower-like mass of cum plastered in her pussy hair. “Honored to, but invite Millie, Stan and the others, they’re known for their artistic works, ‘specially sculpture.”

“Sculpture — yes, and finger painting! I need lots of practice. Give lessons?”

“Certainly do,” Anne laughed.

“I’d love to trade undies with you,” she said giving her a kiss, but I’m having breakfast with aunty and hopefully spend the day practicing with her.” Anne thrust out her hips and poured another cup, “Have a sweet one and for fuck’s sake, don’t wash!”

Felicity chose her outfit carefully, wishing to send her aunt this message: *I’m interested in doing what I know you like to do — see, I already do it!* She decided on a light blouse, a soft bra that cradled her breasts and a full-cut, light blue skirt over a petticoat that revealed clean, white undies. Clean clothes on a smelly body; she hoped her aunt’s ideas of uncleanliness matched her own.

The dining room was filled with the delicious smells of flowers and toast. Stanley nodded a bleary good morning and toddled off looking for Anne. Georgina entered soon after with a far-away look in her eyes, coffee cup in hand. She stiffly sat down, crumpling her dress under her bum. “Hullo, sleep okay?”

“Oh, I think I got as much as everyone else did.”

Georgina’s eyes twinkled, her niece’s wit and odor had made her point without saying a word. “Lets take a stroll in the garden after breakfast, shall we?”

They sat side by side on an ancient marble bench by the fountain, the same one they shared a decade ago. The arbor was thick with roses and the grassy paths between the beds were overgrown with years of untrained flowers. They were ensconced in another world, a fragrant, colorful jungle, over-watched by the ancient Walburn towers.

In the fountain, a bronze sculpture of intertwined swans spouted feeble gouts of water from their upraised bills and dribbled over their slimy feather-textured bodies. The swans represented two sisters in the Pleiades star cluster, Atlas and shy Merope, who once loved a mortal man and shielded from blame by her sister’s protective wing.

“I remember the last time we sat here, it must have been, oh, ten years or so?”

“At least,” replied Felicity, anticipating the thread of the conversation. “I remember I had to go to the bathroom and was scared I’d get in trouble if I had an accident.”

“And we stood right by the fountain and did it together in our undies — on purpose too! Bad girls.”

Both women were silent, “I liked it auntie, I always liked it, not just wetting but the other thing. Do you?” she asked softly.

“Yes sweet. I haven’t mentioned it because I wasn’t sure you did. Peeing and pooping are very different things. Most people abhor touching shit or messing in their pants, so I waited until you brought it up, rather than embarrass you.”

Aunt and niece stood up and embraced. “Let’s wet,” Georgina whispered, relaxing and freeing their golden nectar over themselves.

While they dripped on the flagstones, Georgina looked up at the empty windows in the tower and sighed, she missed her parents and their guidance. Cradling Felicity’s breasts and gently touching her lips with hers asked, “You saw Stanley fuck me last night didn’t you, peeker. Tell me everything you saw!”

They sat on the bench watching their puddle dry while she described what took place during that enchanted hour. “. . . Then I scrunched my nighty up between my legs and wet hard over the chamber pot. I got as wet as I could then climbed into bed.”

“Oh, so delicious!” said Georgina squirming.

“I didn’t have to hide it, that was the wonderful thing. Can we stay like this today?”

“Of course we can, we’ll parade through the house wet as rainstorms and if you need to do number two, tell me and I’ll do urfa escort my best to join you. It’s time I told you about your grandpa Bart and Dolores, we called her Mimi, and show you their rooms on the top floor. See those windows in the tower? They watched us that day in the garden and knew you loved the libertine life as much as I did.”

While they walked hand in hand along the garden path, Georgina identified the household staff who were completely trusted. Anne, Stanley, Millie and Cecil the gardener all played major roles in the menage.

She, however, was under the thrall of Captain Glen McIsaac, who ruled her with a firm hand in a velvet gauntlet. “I’ll tell you what he does and what I must do for him later, if I get permission, ’cause when he’s visiting, my soul and body are his. Benjamin, his little brother, is a mystery to me, but you’ll learn his secrets,” she whispered. Felicity’s eyes got darker.

“And there’s Allen, we call him Dilly, a man from the village who works on the estate and sometimes stays with Millie when he decides to be a little one. Millie is his Mommy and feeds, diapers and plays with him. He’s a beautiful man, very smart and full of surprises,” Georgina smiled coyly. “He built the water syphon for our fountain, very good with plumbing and leaks.”

“Our private garden behind the ivy wall is so overgrown. It’s nothing like the rest of the grounds. How come?” asked Felicity.

“I kept it his way in your honor. Since we mingled our water around the fountain, I felt it was sacred and let them bloom until we were together again.”

“That’s so romantic. We’ll make plans and do secret things under the tower,” she added softly.

It was lunch time when they returned to the house; Anne waved them to a table and brought them salad and iced tea, smiling at their bedraggled appearance.

“What if someone told about our secrets in the village?” asked Felicity.

“We all have our secrets here, and protect ourselves and each other from people who don’t condone what we do.”

“Like if we parade around totally filthy …?”

“No one will get upset about anything we do, for they can and do the same. One curious effect of libertinage is that anyone who enjoys lewdness is immediately accepted. Imagine you see someone you like. Probably would take at least one or two dates before you got intimate, right?

“But suppose they took a chance and admitted to wetting themselves. A little more conversation would make it apparent you enjoyed the same kinks and probably both end up peeing in bed before dinner! But remember, what you see and hear must never be repeated outside these walls. If you’re invited to join in a frolic, do so if you wish, otherwise be discrete.”

After lunch, Georgina led her to a small cupboard in the pantry. “Here are some of my witchy secrets. Cecil grows these herbs in the greenhouse and helps us indulge our wanton ways.”

She pointed to a cabinet crowded with jars and boxes. “This herb stimulates us to go regularly, at least one large bowel movement each day, but two are common. Grandpa Barty told me its Latin name is *Fæces maximus*, he brought the plant back from Cambodia many years ago. This box of red powder causes constipation. The more you take, the longer it binds you. Clear jelly makes your stools soft and runny, again, it depends how much you push into your bottom. Got to experiment for we’re all different. Some day I’ll tell you a story about a humiliating riding accident I had after using these herbs, but made two friends in the bargain.

“Now, the crushed leaves in this jar almost eliminates the smell of number two, although to be honest, that never bothered me. It allows us fill our knickers in public with no one else the wiser.”

Georgina reached into a wicker basket and removed a distinctive jar with finely crushed leaves inside. “The ultimate safeguard,” she said. A small draught of this potion each day prevents conception,” she looked at Felicity to gauge her reaction.

“Not getting pregnant is truly a comfort, but you know aunty, I haven’t been with a man yet. Although I might have taken my maidenhead …”

“You needn’t blush dear, there are no schedules or rules to enter womanhood. It will occur in good time and I’ll see that you’re ready and happy to welcome a cock when it presents itself.

Georgina continued showing off her curative remedies; “here’s a balm for the irritating effects of urine and feces left too long against the skin. And look, knickers that work like a diaper. It turns liquid into a jelly that won’t drip and wet our clothes and hold a movement tightly against our bottom and not squish it out sivas escort the leg openings, which can be rather embarrassing during chapel or in society. I’ve worn one wearing slacks and no one was the wiser. Dilly started a business that manufactures these, quite profitable too.”

Later, Georgina took Felicity to visit her old nursery and bedroom on the third floor where her parents had lived in aristocratic splendor. Large rooms and servant quarters, guest apartments and private amphitheaters, conservatories and terraces, even secret passages to dungeon-like rooms that lay silent, blanketed in clouds of cobwebs.

Yet every room shouted wantonness and debauchery, the deviant behavior that marked the Fanshawe dynasty. Canopied beds and couches were built to accommodate every act of sex. Purification areas, dining rooms, lounges, all designed to celebrate overindulgence. Erotic playthings and old, stiffened underwear littered shelves and night tables.

In Dolores’s chambers, Georgina led Felicity to the windows overlooking the fountain where they first wet their knickers. “My parents watched us that afternoon, and knew you were one of us. Remember our sleepovers in their bedroom?”

“I recall huge meals by candlelight, spills and manners didn’t matter. We didn’t have to take baths and slept together. Spending the week-end with you was like visiting Peter Pan. I wish mother would have let me visit more often.”

They approached the large four-poster and Georgina turned back the thick coverlet. “We would all sleep here jumbled up together, warm as toast. You were such a cuddlebug, crawling over our legs and pushing up between us. Do you cuddle now?”

“Let’s find out.”

Rumpled flannel sheets covered the soft, puffy mattress and right in the middle of the bed was a light-yellow blotch, “Glen had me wet on him the last time he came here. We laid there till we dried.” To their credit, these imps made their own puddle in the same place, strengthening their allegiance.

“I’d love it if grandpa and grandma’s ghosts were here at Walburn Hall!”

“Oh yes, I would love to see them so.” The cousins hugged each other in the dusty, silent bedroom.

“Grandpa loved the folly best, I wonder if he walks there, do you think?”

“We’ll go and see. He kenneled his dogs there, entertained old friends, explored the deep catacombs. Maybe their ghosts haunt the old chapels and guard rooms, dark and so quiet you can hear a snail swallow. We’ll go there.” They impulsively kissed their wet spot, drew the coverlet over the mattress and walked into the dimly lit hall. Paintings loomed on the walls where stern men and enigmatic ladies teased them with knowing looks.

Georgina spent the evening showing Felicity how to prepare the potions and gave her draughts of the ones she deemed important. There were beautiful white linen knickers, soft as a baby’s bottom, secured at the waist and leg openings with pink ribbons, undies with a tailored slit in the gusset allowing a cock or dildo to penetrate from the front or back without the need to remove them. “Glen tells me he loves the feel of my turds through my vagina when we fuck like dogs, says it makes my cunt tighter.”

“What if a poop comes out and he doesn’t like it?”

“Trust me, sensual men and women worship everything placed on the alter of Venus. You’ll learn to recognize if a lover is worthy of your affection.”

Felicity took two pairs of each type back to her room to try on. She felt very grown-up as she ran her hands over her body wearing the ‘open’ style as Georgina called them, pulling the material apart to admire her own plumage reflected in the mirror. She diddled her virgin slit imagining how Benjamin’s prick would stiffen and rise at the sight of her virgin pussy. Finally, adorned in her peed nightgown with no hygienic ablutions whatsoever she was welcomed into her aunty’s bed.

The new lovers woke to a glorious Sunday and peeled themselves out of bed. After coffee, Georgina gave her a tincture of amber liquid dissolved in a small amount of peach brandy. “Drink this and in about five hours the fun will begin. Are you wearing the tight knickers? We have an exciting day ahead, packed with adventures.”

“Are they survivable?

“No sarcasm, lots of hair-do, and use my perfume in your pits. We have to fit in with people this morning. Consider it a test.”

It was about half a mile to the church by the footpath past Mr. Pitts’ cottage. Georgina decided not to involve Cecil in their adventure as he may have juicy plans of his own.

The church had a contemplative air about it, which is more than can be said for our rogues. tekirdağ escort Except for their brushed hair, lipstick, perfumes and elegant gowns, neither their minds or bodies had been touched by a clean thought or potable water in the last twenty-four hours.

Reverend Gullette was an old clergyman who should have retired years ago. The homily ran on as he kept forgetting his place, often misquoting verses from the old teachings with hilarious effect. Georgina whispered, “I swear, we should have been on our way home by now. I hope the — Urmm, here it comes.” In a second she relaxed and whispered, “Phew, just gas.” Felicity nodded, looking worried.

Finally the sermon ended and the remaining time was spent standing or kneeling. Felicity fervently hoped she would not get the urge when she was standing, but luck was against her. She assumed an attitude of sangfroid that made Georgina choke as a fart burbled past her clenched asshole. Felicity murmured as she gingerly sat down, “I’m all sticky.”

They walked out of church discussing their impure underpinnings, hurrying toward the security of the path when an elderly lady nearby waved. “Ah, Miss Fanshawe, how nice to see you. Who is this delightful young lady?”

“Good Morning Mrs. Smallbridge,” said Georgina resignedly, “This is my niece Felicity, visiting for the month.”

Felicity curtsied and liberated a fart, Mrs. Smallbridge seemed not to notice and continued to engage Georgina in polite conversation. Felicity could see Georgina struggling and suspected she was in the same predicament. Georgina bit her lip paying little attention to the conversation when thankfully the woman exhausted her freight of prattle, bade farewell and made off to share her freshest gossip.

“Quick,” she gasped, “let’s get away, I’m bursting.” They walked as fast as they could, farting like a herd of cows. Short of breath, they leaned against a fence. Georgina began to chuckle, “Oh God, I thought she’d never stop. I was so gassy the whole time, what about you?”

“Juicy ones, want to see?”

They looked quickly around making sure they were unobserved, raised each other’s dress and rubbed their fingers over the slippery residue. The gate was stuck, so they climbed over the fence dampening their pants from the exertion. Finally the woods hid them from prying eyes — they could finally indulge themselves.

“It’s coming, I’ll do some as we walk … ummm, it’s hot,” leaning forward, she pushed out a wet, bulky movement. Felicity walked behind her, rubbing the bulge around her bottom.

“Mmm that’s so nice, how ’bout you?”

Felicity was so intent on squeezing Georgina’s shit that she forgot her own need.

“I’m doing it now,” she said, relaxing her poop hole. The seat of her knickers bulged as she descended the garden stairs and squished from side to side with the movement of her legs. She stopped at the bottom — a big push was on the way and all she could do was wait.

Felicity stood on the balls of her feet and parted her legs. Georgina held her steady as she filled her panty seat with a thick flow of blood-hot shit. The mush spread forward between her thighs and up her bumcrack.

Georgina hugged and kissed her, “You’re so beautiful.” Felicity stood up straight feeling the dense poop ooze over her legs and bottom.

“Would you please massage it slowly all over me? I want to remember how this feels forever.”

“Oh baby I’d love to.” She put her hand inside the waistband and squeezed the soft shit through her fingers.

“God, it’s wonderful, I’m fainting,” Felicity whispered. They were nearing the house when Georgina noticed a bench. They sat down, letting the warm mushy poop slather over their legs, bottom and thighs. Felicity placed her hands over her bulging crotch and pushed herself into her poo. Her body jerked uncontrollably as she came into her mess again and again.

“Georgina, I’ve got to pee again.” She straddled her lap and flooded her from breasts to bottom. Aunty returned the favor then throughly soaked, they lay down together on the grass. Intoxicated with passion, they scooped handfuls of poo from the other’s knickers smearing and rubbing it over their clothes, bodies, faces and hair as they rolled about in the grass. Finally exhausted and swathed in shit, they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, droning flies notwithstanding.

It was late afternoon as they climbed the stairs to Georgina’s bedroom. Filthy, soggy with shit and piss, sickened by the taste of their muck, they were as yet unwilling to surrender their debauched state. Eventually, reluctantly, gobs and smears of poop were tenderly washed by hand from their bodies and hair, it was hours before clean water swirled down the drain.

Millie’s skills failed to restore their gowns, nevertheless, the garments were saved to wear at the folly parties, considered to be messy and often dangerous adventures. The undies were stretched and torn but treasured as keepsakes.