Kameyo Kudo

The school's front doors burst open and a horde of excited, chattering students rushed out. Their bright faces reflected the joy that comes with being dismissed from the first day of school and their conversations concerned the afternoon's plans, or perhaps dread about the long year of eighth grade that lay ahead.

Most of the students dispersed across the yawning schoolyard and formed small social groups; either on the line of benches that boarded the neatly trimmed grass, around the many empty bike racks set up for students who rode instead of walked to class, or on the wall that surrounded the perimeter. Others kept walking, some of them heading home and some to the nearest ice cream shop to treat themselves to a sundae and a soda. Kameyo Kudo, however, was among the few who walked alone, her head hung shyly as she started home.

It was a warm day, and a soft wind that made the blades of grass dance, almost happily, floated across the yard. It was perfect weather for the loose, plaid, knee high skirt and thin white polo shirt that made up her school uniform. Kameyo could smell a hint of bar-b-q on the breeze, no doubt a handful of families were enjoying the last days of summer in City Park just yards away.

She kept her eyes down, watching her feet and listening to the faint tapping her shoes made on the dusty cobblestone rather than the blabber of the hundreds of conversations around her. Her light pink hair that reached to the small of her back fell freely over her face, hiding her features from the rest of the students. Sunlight glinted off the gemmed eyes of the cat that adorned the center of her book bag, which she hugged tightly to her chest, conveniently concealing the small bulge in her shirt.

Kameyo wasn't a social reject. She didn't hide her beauty or scurry away from after school gatherings because she was disliked or made fun of. Quite the opposite; she was a well liked member of Gumma middle school's student body. She was just incredibly bashful. And, as she was getting older, her chubby face was beginning to develop the high cheek bones and angular features of beauty. Her bra, relatively new, was already starting to tighten as her breasts grew. Her body, hips and legs were establishing the shape that would mature into pronounced, feminine curves as she continued to blossom into womanhood. She did her best to hide her assets; she was the most attractive girl in her class and the gawks and attention she was starting to receive from her male counterparts made her somewhat uncomfortable.

Her brisk pace carried her across the schoolyard quickly, but every time a boy's gaze followed her she blushed a little. ”It's like they're all staring at me,” she thought to herself as she approached the gate. ”It's so embarrassing. I don't think this can get any worse.”

As if the gods of fate wanted to prove her wrong, a sudden, strong gust of wind picked up. The breeze caught her skirt, causing it to flap wildly against her legs. As abruptly as it started, the gale changed direction. Most of the girls reacted quickly, pressing their dresses firmly against their legs, but Kameyo wasn't as fast. The wind blew upward, filling her skirt with air and causing it to billow uncontrollably.

“Ahh,” Kameyo squeaked as the plaid material lifted above her waist. Her pale legs and light pink panties were exposed. Frantically, she wrestled with the skirt and eventually managed to smooth the cloth back against her legs. But it was to late, everyone had already gotten an eyeful of her Hello Kitty underwear. Several of the girls were giggling at her misfortune and the boys were riveting her with dumb struck stares. Some of the more immature males clapped openly or blew long, loud whistles in her direction. Kameyo could feel every inch of her bronze skin turning fiery red. She lifted her bag to cover her face and hurried out of the schoolyard.

“Wow, Kameyo,” came a voice to her left as she burst from the gate. She stopped running and turned toward it. “I didn't realize you were the flashing type,” Keiko Nakadai taunted.

“I ... I'm not,” Kameyo replied. If Kameyo was the best looking girl in the school, Keiko was the second. She was beginning to develop quite nicely and the boys gave her just as much attention as they gave Kameyo. The difference was that Keiko seemed to thrive on it. She also seemed to enjoy doing her best to make the shy girl she viewed as competition uncomfortable. “It was an accident. The wind...” Kameyo wanted to cry.

Keiko nodded. “Sure,” she said, . “You mean you weren't trying to get those boys to notice you?” She indicated the group of guys who were perched on the wall. Their eyes were still fixated on Kameyo and they were whispering excitedly among themselves.

“NO!” Kameyo could feel their gaze digging into her. “I'm not like that.” Her face began to flush intensely. She had to get away. If she didn't, she felt like she'd die of embarrassment. Plus, she had another problem that urgently needed taken care of.

Keiko ignored her. “Did you guys enjoy the show?” The group of boys, five in all, nodded enthusiastically and each one gave a double thumbs up. “See, they liked it. But, you know, boys will be boys. Anyway, some of the girls and I are going to the the Ice Cream Shack, wanna come?”

“No thanks,” Kameyo replied. “I, have some things to do at home.” It wasn't a lie. She did have a list of chores her mother relied on her to take care of and Kameyo took pride in accomplishing those tasks. A tight cramp in her mid-section reminded her that she also had other matters that needed tending to.

Keiko shrugged. “Suit yourself. See ya around.”

“Yeah, bye.” The brunet turned on her heel and walked away. Kameyo watched her leave and sighed. Keiko and herself had never been friends and felt certain that the ice cream invite carried some ulterior motive. She never understood why the popular brunet and herself had never gotten along and chalked up to a simple difference in personalities. In fact, that assumption wasn't far from the truth.

The cramp in her gut returned, pulling her back to the present and her current situation. She started walking briskly in the direction of her house. “Kameyo, your panties rock,” one of the guys called as she walked off.

Kameyo blushed deeply, but didn't slow her pace. She was about five minutes shy of filling her panties with poop and soaking them with pee. She wondered if Akio Sato would still think they rocked after that.

There was no one to blame for her full bowel and aching bladder but herself. She couldn't force herself to use the bathrooms at school, had never been able to, not since the first grade. There was a joke among some of her classmates that she didn't need to use the toilet, ever. But the truth was that she rushed home everyday and took a massive dump and a long pee. Sometimes, she barely made it but had managed to avoid accidents thus far. Today, the poorly cooked spicy ramen her school had served was not sitting well. She knew she would not be able to make the twenty minute walk home and she refused to mess herself. Her only option was the public bathrooms in City Park. Not the ideal solution, but better than the school restrooms and much better than and accident.

She veered off the sidewalk and stepped through the wrought iron gates that led to City Park. It was like walking into a different world. Just beyond the gates, the hustle and bub of a light industrial area in Gumma, Japan roared on. Cars sped up and down the road and an assortment of commuters talked on their cell phones as they walked the sidewalks. Inside the gates, however, life seemed to slow down. Dense cherry blossom trees, pines and various other vegetation populated the park. The grass was soft and green. The paved trail that led through the rolling hills was well kept and clean. Trash cans and benches lined the road. Kameyo could see a few people hiking through the park, a couple was cuddling on one of the benches and a handful of children were romping through one of the various play areas the park offered. Birds chirped happily in the trees and the scent of bar-b-q grew stronger. She couldn't see it from here, but the picnic area must have been in full swing.

Nestled in a corner by a grove of trees stood Kameyo's destination. The public restrooms.

One hand rested on her abdomen as she walked toward the brick shack. The instinct to press her butt cheeks together and break into a run for the toilets was hard to ignore, but people would see her and know what she was doing. That would be way to humiliating. She decided to keep her dignity and just walk briskly.

As she got closer to the bathroom, her anus dilated in anticipation. Desperately, she ground her teeth together and hummed, trying to take her mind off what her body needed to do. The head of what would be a colossal poo was peeking from her butthole. It took a great deal of effort to keep the waste from pouring into her underwear.

She felt like crying for joy when she stepped into the small building. Relief was near and not a second to soon. She hurried through the door labeled “women” and was impressed by how clean it was, for a public bathroom. There was a sink, a garbage can and two doorless stalls. She headed for the farthest one, but stopped short. A fat, burly man wearing a pale denim suit and an unkempt beard was standing in the stall. A plunger and open toolbox sat next to the squat style toilet. A patch on his suit read “Mario”.

“Uh, excuse me s-sir,” Kameyo started, her voice shaky with desperation and her natural bashfulness. “This is the .. ugh ... ladies room.”

“And I'm the plumber,” he said, standing up and using a dirty towel to wipe his hands. “You need the toilet?”

“Please?”

“Well, sorry kiddo. Someone decided to stuff a weeks worth of the Gumma Times down these toilets. Plugged up the whole system. To be honest, I think that's where that newspaper belongs,” he said thoughtfully. “Their reporters are second class and the...”

“Oooooo,” Kameyo groaned. “I hate to interrupt, sir. But I really, really need to use the toilet. Are you almost f-finished?” Her voice was heavy with urgency.

“It'll be around two hours. Ya feel like ya can hold it that long?”

”I don't feel like I can hold it two seconds!” is what Kameyo wanted to say. But, instead she shook her head. “I ... I don't think so.” She was beginning to hop back and forth and her ears were red with shame. The poo-head had poked out another centimeter. Her sphincter was wearing out. She was about to lose it.

“Well, there's another bathroom up near Scenic Point. It's not as clean as this one and sometimes they lock it up, but it's workin'. If ya' follow the trail...”

“I know the way,” Kameyo interrupted, rushing out of the bathroom. “Thank you,” she called as she left.

She hurried out of the bathroom and hastily walked the trail toward Scenic Point. Both hands were resting on her stomach now. Sweat matted her pink hair to her forehead as the mass of crap tried to force itself out. Her body was rebelling against her and she was in a frantic race against time.

“I can't poop myself, I can't poop myself,” she chanted quietly. It did almost nothing to take her mind off her urgency. She tried to relax and take in the scenery.

The trees were dense for a while, allowing only a few shafts of sunlight to pierce the leafy canopy. Occasionally, she would see a rabbit hopping parallel to the trail. Flowering bushes and other shrubbery lined the pavement, giving the area a relaxing floral scent. Normally, Kameyo found the walk to Scenic Point calming and she liked to drink it in. But today it was an annoying three minute walk between herself and relief. Several times, she glanced toward the thick woods and considered dropping her load behind a tree, but couldn't convince herself to do it. If someone caught her, she'd die of embarrassment.

Soon, the vegetation began to get sparse and the trail inclined sharply. She had reached Scenic Point. The area was aptly named. It was simply a very high, wide hill. At the top, one received a beautiful panoramic view of City Park and Gumma itself. It was a popular spot for the city's artists and authors to come practice their craft. Kameyo could see a few painters involved in their work at the top. About halfway up the hill was a rest area. Another brick hut, almost identical to the one before, stood beside a wire trash can. Kameyo wanted to yelp for joy.

She waddled quickly to the bathroom. Her stomach was killing her and the turd had slid out farther. It was almost touching cotton. She was very uncomfortable and more than ready to evacuate her bowel. Her heart raced when she reached the cement threshold, but sank when she seen the gate, a set of thick, black iron bars, locked. A large chain and padlock kept it firmly closed.

Kameyo wailed in anguish. How could this be! She was so close. She could actually see the toilet. It was a metal western style bowl that jutted from the wall. Her body began pleading for release. The toilet was right there! ”So ... close ...” she thought. In the distance, she could hear a bird chirping loudly, as if mocking her.

Defeated, she stepped out of the bathroom. Tears were welling in her eyes. ”What now. I can't make it home, but I don't want to go in the woods either. What if someone sees me?” She weighed her options carefully, even considered just going in her panties. After all, her mother would understand and with her skirt on, no one would even know. Except for her. And she couldn't bear the idea of having to walk home in poop filled panties. Her choices were clear, try to make it home or go in the woods.

Her body made the decision for her. The poop moved again, this time emerging a full inch before she could stop it. Now the head of the log was touching cotton and her panties had the tiniest bulge. She let out a quite shriek and ran to the nearest bush.

The bush, if it could be called that, was not very thick. Anyone who was paying attention would be able to see what she was doing and there was almost no leaf cover behind her. She could see the artists clearly, if any of them looked away from their work, they would very likely see her.

She dashed into the brush and dropped her kitty bag off to the side. She was doing an absurd dance. Her heart was racing, it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. She was so scared. ”I'm don't want to go in the woods! If someone sees me...” she hesitated. In fact, she almost backed out, but a violent message from her stomach sealed the deal. Her pink panties came off in a flash and she kicked them out of the way. She squeaked desperately as she bunched her skirt up and bent her knees like she was sitting on a chair.

As soon as her skirt was up, she released and the pain in her gut was replaced with a feeling of relief. Immediately, a soft crackling broke the silence as a thick, solid log pushed itself between her cheeks. The feces flowed freely from her exhausted anus and the well compacted turd slid past her knees before breaking off up near her butthole.

She sighed heavily. ”That was to close.” She wasn't finished, but glanced around before she continued. There was no one in sight and the painters were still engrossed in their work. She repositioned her feet and gave a little push.

Her backside began pumping out another round of poop. It was a little softer this time, and rushed out of her colon quickly. It broke off several times and each chunk made a muffled plop as it hit the ground.

The mess seemed to get softer and less formed as it came out of her. The quiet crackling as the crap made it's way out of her body actually helped soothe Kameyo's frayed nerves. The odor was strong and meaty, but luckily the wind carried it off before it became to offensive. Finally, the second run of poop subsided and ended with a dangerously wet fart.

Kameyo's stomach rumbled and she sighed. She had known this was coming, it was impossible to eat the cafeteria's spicy ramen without getting a mild case diarrhea.

A third wave of poop, this time loose, mushy crap, rapidly poured from her butt. It hit the already tall pile with a wet splatter and covered it like a thick gravy. It subsided quickly and her aching bladder finally got it's turn.

A river of warm yellow began falling from between her legs. It sounded like rain drops hitting the ground. Kameyo breathed a much deserved sigh of relief. She was finished. Almost.

Keeping her skirt hiked up, Kameyo reached for her bag and rummaged through it. Luckily, she was careful about keeping a package of wet wipes with her. She broke the plastic seal and ran the damp paper across her messy behind. It took the entire package and made her backside wet, but at least she had cleaned all the poop out.

She stood up, slipped her panties back on, grabbed her bag by the handles and stepped out of the brush all the while begin careful to avoid looking at or stepping in her own waste.

Feeling much better but still very ashamed, Kameyo headed home.

* * *
Squatting in the nearby bush, Keiko Nakadai watched as Kameyo violently evacuated her bowels. She kept the camera on her cell phone trained on the pink haired girl, recording the prettiest girl in the school as she took a mammoth dump. Keiko kept the digital recording going as Kameyo peed and wiped, then got a crystal clear shot of her face as she walked off.

Excited, Keiko replayed the video and laughed. The lighting and angle were almost perfect. She was so happy she had decided to follow Kameyo rather than get ice cream with her friends.

The large video file took up nearly all the memory on her phone, but it didn't matter. She'd take it home and transfer it to her computer where she'd use video editing software to enhance it's quality. Then, she'd post it on the Internet.

She crawled out of her hiding spot feeling smug. By the end of the week, Kameyo Kudo wouldn't be able to show her face at Gumma middle school ever again.