The Landscaper Needs to Poop Pt. 02

Zachary felt hot and red with shame when he showed up at Ms. Walker's house on the second day of work. Yesterday, she watched him piss and shit his pants like a child, and he had to face her again. His truck smelled like cheap flowery air freshener mixed with the stench of yesterday's mess.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't see her anywhere. He knew what he had to do today. Maybe she would stay inside and he wouldn't have to see her.

His hopes were dashed when she walked out onto her deck holding a tray. She set it down and called him over.

"Oh Zachary! Won't you come sip some lemonade? I made it special for you."

Oh no. He reluctantly walked over and accepted a glass of lemonade from her. Something wicked flashed in her eyes, and he realized that he better not drink this.

"Drink up. Or I'll just have to tell your boss how rude you've been."

His palms started sweating. How could he get out of this?

A phone started ringing from inside the house. "Oh! Forgot my phone," she muttered, before turning and sprinting back into the house. This was his chance! He quickly switched their glasses. By the time she came back, he was sipping away, and she looked at him with satisfaction. He watched with bated breath as she took a big drink from the glass he put in front of her.

It was just as he suspected. Today was going to be interesting.

"So, are you going to let me use your bathroom today?" he asked.

"Absolutely not!" she said. "A filthy, dirty boy like you? And don't even think about leaving the property. The same rules still stand."

"But you know I can't hold it," he said. He actually could already feel his morning coffee stirring up the contents of his colon.

"Then you should've worn a diaper," she said sweetly.

He blushed at the thought of wearing a diaper and filling it like a baby. He probably should've. He was probably going to have another accident today. But if she'd put something in his drink as he suspected, then maybe she'd be in for a rude awakening.

He got to work, glancing in her direction every few minutes. A couple of hours passed, and his bowels were cramping. He knew he was getting closer to the inevitable. He swallowed, unable to believe what he was about to do. Carefully turning his back to her so she wouldn't see, he put his hand down the front of his pants and pinched the tip of his penis so that urine wouldn't escape. He relaxed and pushed, trying not to moan as a soft deposit landed in his underwear. The warm mush nestled into his crack. He felt much less disgusted than yesterday. Maybe he was getting used to it, going potty in his pants like a little boy.

He watched Ms. Walker as his anus stretched around a thick log. She squirmed in her seat, frowning in confusion. Oh boy. Whatever was in that drink must be catching up to her. He had an idea.

"Ms. Walker?"

"Yes?" She sounded nervous as she rubbed her belly. He walked toward her, the hot mush in his underwear sliding through his crack as he moved.

"I have to tell you something." He stood between her and the back door to her home.

"What is it?" she snapped. He loved the fear in her eyes.

"I had another accident. Can I go inside and clean up?"

"You did? Already? And no! Absolutely not!"

"But Ms. Walker, I still have hours to go. I can't have this mess in my pants this whole time."

"Well, you should've thought of that." She pressed her hand to her stomach. "Now, if you'll excuse me for a minute, I'll just..."

He stepped in front of her in order to block the door. "Don't you want to look?"

"What?"

"Don't you want to look in my pants? Like you did yesterday?"

"I will in a minute. I told you I'll be right back." She dove for the door, but Zachary grabbed her around the waist.

"You tried to put something in my drink, didn't you, Ms. Walker?"

"I don't know what you mean," she cried.

"You did. But I switched the drinks. So whatever was in my drink..."

Her eyes widened. "No. No, please, let me-"

Zachary squeezed her waist and tickled her with his free fingers.

"No! No!" Suddenly, she let out a wet fart, loud enough for the neighborhood to hear. He held her as she screamed and cried. Her hot, liquid diarrhea poured down her legs, staining her light-colored skirt and splattering all over the deck.

When he was satisfied that she was done with her accident, he let her go, surveying the damage. "Oh my. What a bad, dirty girl. I thought a big girl like you would be able to hold it."

She sobbed as she inspected her filthy legs and skirt. "You made me do that. I'm telling-"

"Who? My boss? Go ahead. Tell him that you tried to drug me with a laxative. That you have a little shit fetish. That you pooped all over yourself like a toddler and cried about it like a baby. Tell him about the shit in my pants, too. I'll live it down eventually. You would probably have to leave the country, though." She stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. "On second thought, maybe I'll just tell him all that..."

"No! Please! Zachary, please, I'll do anything!"

"Anything? Hm. I'll have to think about that."

"Can I go clean up now?"

"Nope."

"But I really need a shower. It's not contained in my underwear like you. It's everywhere. And I think I have to...oh..." She groaned and grabbed her stomach.

"In that case, definitely not. Lift your skirt. Ass toward me."

She gasped and groaned again. Zachary lost patience and lifted her skirt for her. He turned her so that he could see her ass just in time for the show to start. She sobbed as she let out another fart. Another brown waterfall cascaded from her destroyed white panties. This time, a torrential amount of urine escaped too.

"Oh baby, I would've made you keep your skirt down if I knew you were going to piss your panties."

She kept crying, and he almost felt bad for her. When she was done shitting, she wiped her eyes. "Was that enough? Will you promise not to tell now?"

"Oh no, Ms. Walker. Not nearly. I'll pick you up for a date this Saturday night. You have diapers?"

Her eyes widened, and she nodded. "Good. You better be wearing one. You'll need it."

He grabbed his things from the yard, waddling as the mess in his pants spread. "I'll be going now, Ms. Walker. See you Saturday."

When he got to his truck, he spread a towel out again. He was hit with a painful wave from his bladder. He grabbed the end of his penis and realized he couldn't hold on until he got home. He let it flow, shocked by the amount that drench his pants. It certainly soaked through the towel.

Maybe he needed to pick up some diapers as well.