Spoiled Heiress Gets Kidnapped Ch. 02

INTRODUCTION & DISCLAIMER - When bumbling criminals Rod, Nick and Dwayne abduct spoiled rich girl Harriet to obtain a ransom, they get quite a nasty surprise when they find out that pretty girls actually need to go to the toilet. With hot-tempered Harriet's hands tied together to prevent her attacking her captors, how are they going to solve this problem? Is one of them actually going to have to wipe posh princess Harriet's bottom for her?

Please note that this story contains graphic details of female bodily functions, so if these fetish themes aren't your thing, this story may not be for you. Otherwise please enjoy and rate and comment, and look for other chapters as they are posted. All characters are aged 18 and older, with similarity to real persons living or dead coincidental and unintentional.

*

Having somewhat recovered from the shock of finding out that I needed to go to the toilet, Dwayne was the first to speak. "Yeah, she's right, we never thought of that."

Rod and Nick gave Dwayne a look to tell him that he should shut up, then went back to looking stressed, clearly unable to think what to do.

It was Nick who found his voice first. "Are you sure?" he asked me.

I gave him a look of contempt. "I think I should know when I need to go to the loo."

Nick seemed to think about this, then said, "Dwayne, I drank the last of the milk earlier. Go and get the empty bottle, and she can use that to take a piss."

I laughed. "A bottle, seriously? You expect me to pee in a bottle?"

"What's wrong with that?" Rod asked defensively. "You're too fussy Princess, that's your problem."

"You three obviously didn't pay attention in human biology at high school," I said smugly. "Girls can't pee in bottles, we're not designed that way. Anyway, even if I could it wouldn't do any good. I don't only need to pee, I've got to go for a poo as well."

If Rod, Nick and Dwayne were scared of me pissing, the thought of me having to take a shit absolutely terrified them. Even if somebody had seen them kidnap me this morning and the police were currently smashing down the door to rescue me, they could not have looked more afraid.

Rod looked at me, then his facial expression changed as he went into denial and he laughed. "Nice one darling, you're just bluffing to try and escape aren't you?"

I put the same smug expression on my face. "You want proof I'm not bluffing, this should convince you."

With that, I lifted the right cheek of my bum off the bed and farted as loud as I could. It was a massive fart, I could feel the hot gas escaping through my anus into my knickers and between the cheeks of my arse. Inside my rectum I could feel the poo pressing against my anal sphincter as I passed gas. It was a loud fart, and within seconds I could tell it was smelly too, the odor of rotten digested vegetables and the tuna salad I had eaten for dinner the previous night drifting from my arsehole and filling the room.

Rod, Nick and Dwayne looked at me stunned as I was farting, and as the smell of my wind hit their nostrils they recoiled in disgust and horror, me sitting on the bed laughing at their reactions.

"Fucking hell, Princess, that was fucking disgusting," complained Nick as he held his nose.

Dwayne, as usual, looked confused. "Rod, Nick, I thought pretty girls didn't fart?"

"This one does," complained Rod, still trying to wave the smell of my flatulence away from his nose. "You dirty little bitch. How the fuck do your farts smell so bad?"

I smiled. "Because I'm a good girl who always eats all her green vegetables and salads. Now that you've seen, heard and smelled that I'm serious, you need to get me to the loo."

"I don't know," Rod grumbled, clearly unsure of what to do in this situation. "Can't you hold it?"

"Not for three fucking weeks or however long you're keeping me here!" I exclaimed. "I'll explain it nice and slowly. Within half an hour, I'm going to poo. Now either my poo goes into the toilet, or it goes into my knickers. And given how bad it smelled when I just farted, I'm sure you'd rather my shit go into the toilet I'm sitting on rather than you having to deal with my shitty knickers. And you'll have to untie my hands too."

"And why's that?" Rod asked.

I glared at him. "So I can wipe my bottom, obviously."

"Nah, forget it, not after what you done earlier," said Rod.

Nick looked worried. "Rod, yeah she's a nasty little cow and I don't trust her and don't want her hands free, but she does got a point, if she has a shit she will need to wipe her bottom."

"Nah, we can't fucking trust her," said Rod.

"That's it, just stand here arguing about it, and you're going to be dealing with my panties full of poo," I said. "It's simple. Either you untie my hands so I can wipe my own bottom when I go to the toilet, or you leave my hands tied and one of you wipes my bottom for me. I'd prefer the first option obviously, but the most important thing is that I'm sitting on the loo with my jeans and knickers down."

Dwayne had been watching all of this, and then his face brightened. "I got it!"

Rod and Nick looked at their younger brother. "You've got what?" Nick asked.

"How we can help Harriet go to the toilet. Do you want to hear it?"

"For some stupid reason, yeah I do," said Rod.

"We've got two sisters right, Michelle and Stacy. You know our sisters?"

"I think I do," said Rod, Dwayne missing the sarcasm. "Go on."

"Well our younger sister Stacy, I don't think we should bother her what with being pregnant, her son having chicken pox and her boyfriend ending up back in prison for stealing cars, she's got enough to worry about without us bothering her. But Nick's twin sister Michelle, I reckon she could help, if she's not too busy with fencing."

I couldn't resist the chance to be a smart-arse, and interjected. "Your sister installs fences for a living? Or is she a professional sword fighter?"

"Nah, she's a fence," Dwayne explained to me. "Like, people go out nicking stuff, then Michelle buys it off them, then she flogs the stuff what they stole out of her flat."

"Like we said earlier Dwayne, just tell her about every fucking crime that we commit in this family," said Rod. "And how could Michelle help us?"

"Well, every time Harriet needs to go to the toilet to do a poo, then we call Michelle and Michelle comes over and wipes Harriet's bum for her," said Dwayne. "We can pay her, I mean out of the twelve million pounds we can give Michelle some. And Harriet would probably prefer to get her bum wiped by a girl."

"Oh yes, Michelle of course," said Rod.

Dwayne looked hopeful. "So you like my idea Rod."

"No, no you fucking idiot I don't like your idea, I think it is fucking stupid," snapped Rod. "Why would Michelle help us, especially with wiping some posh girl's bum when she's taking a shit? Don't you remember what Michelle said when she kicked us out of her flat at Christmas?"

"I don't really remember, she was shouting so much," said Dwayne.

"She said that she didn't want to see the three of us again for 300 years," said Rod. "Was Christmas 1993 300 years ago? I don't think so. Anyway, Michelle's not going to get herself involved in kidnapping, she'd probably call the pigs and get us nicked."

Dwayne looked offended. "Sorry Rod, I was just trying to help."

Rod put a sarcastic smile on his face. "You did help, Dwayne. You found the person who just volunteered to wipe Harriet's arse for her."

Dwayne's face brightened. "I did? Who?"

"You!" snapped Rod. He pointed at me. "She pisses me off, and you piss me off just as much. So from now on, your hands are Harriet's hands. When Harriet needs a drink, you hold the straw or cup up to her face. When she needs to eat, then you feed her. When Harriet needs to brush her teeth, then you brush them for her. When Harriet needs to blow her nose, you hold the tissue in place. When Harriet needs to go to the toilet, then you pull her jeans and knickers down and sit her on the toilet, you get the toilet paper and wipe her cunt when she pisses and her bum when she has a shit, and you pull her knickers up after. Got it, moron?"

Dwayne looked worried. "But what about if her poo is smelly?"

"Tough luck idiot, now let's get this spoiled little brat to the toilet before she shits her knickers," said Rod.

"So, are you going to untie my legs?" I asked.

"Fat chance of that, darling," said Rod.

"So you're going to have to carry me everywhere then," I pointed out. "That's stupid."

"You got a better idea sweetheart?" Nick challenged me.

"Well, as I'm much smarter than you three clowns combined I do," I said. "How about you untie these tight bounds around my ankles, and re-tie the rope so that I can move my legs? I can't escape, I won't be able to run or kick you but at least I'll be able to shuffle to the bathroom each time I need the loo."

I could see my sensible suggestion had hurt Rod and Nick's egos, but not wanting to have to carry me to the toilet each time they seemed to take my idea on board.

"Nick, Dwayne, hold one of her legs while I untie the rope around her ankles," said Rod, his brothers doing just this, me sitting on the bed as first Rod untied my trainers and cast them to one side, followed by my white socks so I was barefoot.

"If the little cow tries to kick out then she can't do as much damage with bare feet," Rod pointed out. "Now, hold her legs down real tight. If she can scratch like a cat, she can probably kick like a mule too."

I sat barefoot on the bed and did not even try to kick Rod in the face as he untied the binds on my ankles and changed the rope so that while my ankles were still bound, I would be able to shuffle to the toilet but not be able to try and escape by running.

Rod's face was between my knees as he put the final touches to the knots, and Nick and Dwayne were still holding my legs in place, and just to be a bitch I could not resist farting again, the sound loud against the bed I was sitting on, the terrible smell once more filling the room.

"Oops, excuse me!" I giggled.

"Yeah, I'll give you oops, you filthy little posh bitch," growled Rod, he and his brothers gagging on the smell of my gas, to my great satisfaction.

With the binds on my legs re-tied, Rod stood up and roughly pulled me to my feet. "Come on, let's get Princess Harriet to the loo before she shits everywhere."

I shuffled with the three brothers in the direction of the toilet, regarding the disgusting condition of the house with disdain. Paint peeled from the walls, there were mold stains on the ceiling, the carpets and linoleum were filthy and falling apart and I noticed wires hanging out of one of the power points. There was the same stench of damp I had picked up earlier, along with the pervading odor of stale cigarette smoke.

"This place is absolutely disgusting," I complained.

"Yeah, but not half as disgusting as your farts, Princess," growled Nick.

"What's your fucking problem?" Rod complained. "This place not good enough for a posh bird like you?"

"This slum isn't good enough for anyone, not even you Rod," I said disparagingly.

"They're going to tear it down, it's already got a demolition order against it, but the bloke that what used to own it, he let us stay here for cash," Dwayne said.

"What a generous slum lord," I said sarcastically as we reached the bathroom, which looked like it hadn't been cleaned much less renovated for 30 years or more.

"Sit her on the toilet, and make sure you wipe her arse properly when's she's had her shit," Rod ordered Dwayne, he and Nick closing the bathroom door and leaving me and Dwayne alone together.

Dwayne looked at me, clearly terrified. "Um Harriet, so what should I like do now?"

I glared at him with my blue eyes. "You pull my jeans and my knickers down, and you sit me down on the toilet, what else do you think you do?"

"Right," said Dwayne, grinning at me, clearly more nervous than I was, and I was the one who was going to be taking a shit on the toilet in front of a guy who was there to wipe my arse for me. For some reason, I was annoyed about the situation, not at all nervous or humiliated.

Dwayne's fingers went to my jeans, unfastening and unzipping them and sliding them down my legs, my white cotton knickers with pink flowers now on display. I could see Dwayne looking at my knickers, he clearly liked what he saw and despite my situation, this kind of turned me on.

"Come on, be a big brave boy and pull my knickers down," I taunted.

Dwayne's nervous and sweaty hands took hold of my panty waistband and pulled my knickers down, my underpants soon joining my jeans around my ankles. "Can you um, sit on the toilet now Harriet?" he stammered.

"You're forgetting one important thing," I said. "Can you see what that thing is?"

Dwayne looked at me, at the toilet and around the bathroom in general, then shook his head. "Dunno."

"The toilet seat." I pointed at the lavatory, with the toilet seat up.

"Oh, sorry Harriet."

Dwayne put the toilet seat down, and I could tell that he liked my triangle of blonde pubic hair that grew on my feminine mound, and I also saw him take a sneak peek at my bare bottom at the back. Once again, Dwayne seeing me in this position was a turn-on, although it shouldn't have been.

I sat down on the toilet, and adjusted my bare bum so I was comfortable. My knees were slightly open, and I relaxed my bladder. My pee started to flow from my urethra, the tinkling, splashing sounds echoing in the toilet and filling the bathroom. I looked down at my crotch and into the toilet, seeing the water turning yellow from my piss.

My urine stream slowed down as my bladder emptied, then turned to some splashes and drops then abated, leaving me sitting on the loo with a very wet pussy.

"Okay Dwayne, now you need to get some toilet paper and wipe my vagina for me," I said, opening my legs further to display my pussy to one of my kidnappers.

Dwayne looked terrified as he unwound some sheets of toilet paper from the roll and approached me, petrified of what he had to do next.

"My pussy won't bite you Dwayne, at least not very hard," I teased. "And if you're like this when you're wiping pee-pees from my front bottom, how are you ever going to cope when you need to wipe my poo-poos from my back bottom?"

Dwayne's nervous hand went between my legs to wipe the residual urine from my vagina. I watched the process, and noticed with dismay that the toilet paper was possibly the cheapest one could buy, flimsy, rough, scratchy and non-absorbent. It fell apart in Dwayne's fingers as it got saturated by my wee. How it was ever going to cope with my shit remained to be seen.

"Are you looking at my fanny, Dwayne?" I again teased.

"No, Harriet, no I'm not, honest," Dwayne protested.

He looked down at the floor, where of course my bare feet, my jeans and my lowered knickers were visible, some creamy colored pussy stains from my vagina self-cleansing during the day visible on the double cotton saddle of my panties.

"Now you're looking at my knickers," I taunted the uncomfortable young man.

"No, I'm not looking at your knickers, Harriet," said Dwayne, staring at the wall.

I looked at the front of Dwayne's jeans, and could see the unmistakable bulge of a growing hard-on in the front. "You have been perving on my knickers and my pussy, you've got an erection," I giggled.

"No, I don't got an erection," said Dwayne, frantically trying to hide his arousal from me by standing awkwardly next to the toilet.

"Maybe this will help you lose that hard-on," I laughed.

I repositioned my bum on the toilet seat, farted hard with the sound echoing in the loo, then relaxed the muscles in my rectum and felt my anus open. My poo came out of my bottom with a mighty rush and a terrible stench. My feces were about the consistency of thick porridge, and if I had spent the last week eating cabbages, broccoli, prunes, licorice, tuna fish and cheese, could have hardly have smelled worse.

My shit went everywhere in the toilet, messy brown lumps of poo splashing into the water and other feces staining the white toilet bowl with big brown streaks. I could feel the messy poo sticking to my anal area, and with another loud fart my bum released another massive, messy and smelly log that went into the bowl with the rest of my shit.

I felt some sort of satisfaction as I was farting and pooing, and was glad that my shit felt and smelled so disgusting. Perhaps it was the frustration of being kidnapped, I was in turn punishing the toilet for my predicament?

Dwayne stood staring at me as I stopped pooing. "Well Dwayne, now you know that pretty girls do poo and that our shit absolutely stinks," I said.

"Yeah," Dwayne mumbled, clearly in shock. He just stood there staring at me as I sat on the toilet with a dirty bottom and the ripe smells from my rectum continuing to rise up from the bowl and filling the bathroom.

"Well, don't just stand there, get some toilet paper and wipe my bottom for me," I commanded the young man.

I leaned forward on the toilet, so Dwayne would have access to my bum. I obviously could not see back there, but I could feel my hot, messy and smelly shit around my anus and on my buttocks.

Dwayne took a look at my dirty bottom, and while I obviously would have preferred he did not see my anus especially when it was covered in my poo, I was actually amused that he was more uncomfortable than me.

Dwayne unwound a length of toilet paper and scrunched it up -- clearly he was a scruncher while I always folded my toilet paper when I wiped my bottom -- and looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but here as he extended his hand towards my bum and began his clumsy attempts at wiping me, his fingers dragging the loo paper from my anus towards my vulva.

"No!" I snapped.

"No?" Dwayne stopped short like a wasp had stung him. "What did I do wrong?"

"Girls need to have their bottoms wiped front to back, never back to front!" I spat angrily.

Dwayne looked blankly at me. "Why?"

I sighed loudly in exasperation. "Because if you wipe me back to front, you're going to transfer poo and germs from my anus to my vagina, and I'm going to get an infection in my fanny. Do you want me to have an infection in my fanny, Dwayne? If you do, you'll need to get me antibiotics and ointment, and for that you need a doctor's prescription, and I don't know how you're going to explain that one."

"Sorry Harriet, I'll do a better job," Dwayne stammered nervously.

"Well you couldn't do it any worse," I said disparagingly as Dwayne wiped my bottom front to back. It felt absolutely degrading having my shit wiped from my arsehole by a guy but at least it was uncomfortable for him. And better Dwayne than his older brothers, I wouldn't want Rod or Nick to wipe my bum for me; that was for sure. But it was not an experience I was enjoying, it was very uncomfortable for me psychologically, but just as much physically.

"Can't you get me some decent toilet paper?" I demanded, as Dwayne clumsily wiped my bottom again with the flimsy, rough, non-absorbent single-ply toilet paper.

"Sorry Harriet, that's all we got," said Dwayne, as he again wiped my bottom with the awful loo paper and a complete lack of competence.

I turned around and looked at my dirty toilet paper covered in my shit in Dwayne's fingers before he dropped it into the bowl. "Dwayne, all that loo paper does is spread my shit around, it doesn't absorb it properly and it falls apart when you're wiping me. Do you want to end up with my shit all over your hands, because that's what's going to happen?"

Before Dwayne could say anything, the bathroom door swung open and Nick and Rod entered like they owned the place, not bothered at all that I was on the toilet.

"What is this, open day?" I spat at them.