Closing the door softly behind her, the young mouse leaned back, gently, so as to not create any unnecessary noise. Her legs bent slightly, her tail curled in discomfort and anticipation. She had been wanting this for weeks. Sure, the pull-ups had provided her a release, but even they were only useful on nights when she was able to sneak them out to the trash. That, and, despite the incredible feeling they gave her to wet, the tight fit still made it difficult to soil herself. Perhaps, she thought, this would be different.
	Carefully, Chelse unbuttoned her shorts, letting them simply fall around her ankles. She slipped off her shirt as well, kicking her shorts aside and tossing her shirt on top. She now stood in her underwear: a cropped tank top that just barely covered her belly button, the silky mint-green straps of her bra showing on her shoulders, and a pair of white panties with pale blue stripes running horizontally, with orange elastic bands  and orange circles with rubber ducky prints on them randomly spaced. It was one of her cuter pairs; she hoped she would be able to save it, although part of her didn't mind if she couldn't.
	She wanted to be in a comfortable position; perhaps the toilet would be a good option, or, she thought, even just right here. Her slight crouch wasn't helping hold back, and she found herself breathing harder as her body began to make the decision for her. At first, she felt no resistance, and nearly panicked, looking down to make sure she was still in fact wearing her panties; then, she began to feel her mess, first in the leg bands as her panties began to stretch. It was more quiet than when she had gone in her diapers, but it was also much easier. Unfortunately, to her, her mess seemed simply to hang, rather than staying close to her body and spreading out as it had in the pull-ups. She would have to fix that, she thought, smiling to herself. As she continued to mess her panties, she curled her tail a little, pressing the mess against her, feeling the warmth and moisture through the fabric on her tail before feeling it in her fur, bringing a smiley gasp, almost a silent giggle, to the mouse's face as she felt it began to spread. She began to tease herself, to rub gently through her gusset, but not too hard, not yet.
	Ripples ran through her tail as she began to help her mess make its way around inside her panties, certainly spreading and smearing across her backside, but also, more excitingly, forward. Reaching down now with both paws, she pulled the leg bands taught, ensuring nothing would escape, and pushed harder, her tail still guiding as she felt even more gooey mess fill her panties, making its way directly forward this time. "Yes, yes," she whispered to herself, curling her tail ever so slowly, more and more, against her body. "Please, yes, I want it, I want to feel it on my--" she cooed as she felt the first sizable mound make its way into the gusset of her panties, now resting gently against her folds, simply waiting. Her mind was now racing, the feeling as though on an accelerating roller coaster, as she let one paw cup her mess, savoring the warmth and anticipation. "Oh, yes, yes," the mouse said, her voice slowly growing from a whisper into a soft tone as her excitement grew. She pressed her paw in, digging her digits into the crease of her panties before rubbing up along the entire length of her pussy. She felt her mess, warm and slick, dampening the gusset of her panties beneath her paw, simultaneously spreading out and slipping between her folds, coating her pussy in warm poop. "Yeh-ah-yes!" she squeaked, rubbing her clit furiously, the mess simultaneously making the mouse feel slick, warm, dirty, and tingly all at once, a gentle burn combined with the incredible moisture from mixing with her own arousal.
	Desperately, her tail swished back and forth, smearing her backside as her free paw struggled to pull the rest of her mess forward, in the process causing some to leak out onto the outside of the leg gathers and spread on her inner thighs. She rubbed in broad strokes, forward and up over her pussy, all the way up to the waistband in the front, but also outwards, embracing the blowouts and smearing her inner thighs with dark streaks. A teardrop-shaped stain, wide and brown, had begun to form across the front of her panties; Chelse could only imagine the back was completely ruined by now. The stain seemed to be opaque, making even the little prints on her panties fade, quite unlike when she wet herself. It was only then, as she thought about it, that she had noticed that she had, in fact, peed a bit; there were faint streaks of brown and gold along her inner thighs to her knees, and the stain in the gusset of her panties had become dark enough that no other color was visible. She still felt the need to go, and was now simultaneously approaching her climax; she decided to line them both up, although the little bit of logic left in her mind told her not to finish here by the door, where the puddle might leak into the carpet on the other side. Her privacy would not last forever.
	Desperately, she crossed the room, still bent over, rubbing furiously at the darkened fabric, little clicks and schlicks coming from beneath her stained fingers from her honey and poopy mess. Nearly throwing the lid of the toilet down, she spread herself, grinding hard against the rounded edge of the toilet. "I--I made a poopy p-potty," she stammered, rubbing her clit as she rubbed her butt and pussy in wide strokes, her tail still pressing intermittently whenever her butt left the seat. "In--ah--m-my panties--my p-pants are my--oh, m-my potty!" she cried, a little too loudly, now feeling her warm pee flow into her panties, mixing with her mess into a dark and sloppy trail that pooled on the lid of the toilet, running down her thighs and the front of the toilet to form stains in her fur and a second puddle on the tile below. The combined sensation was too much for her, and she clutched the back of the toilet desperately as she pressed her clit hard against the plastic lid, grinding in slow but hard pulses as she continued to pee. She panted, her eyes closed, yet the muscles in her eyelids continued to loosen and tighten. Some of her ragged breaths held pitch, while others were only air, and her knuckles whitened on both her hands and feet as she clenched and unclenched. The mess, still slick, now became more muddy, spreading away from her, but also further into her. She both loved the increased mess, and hated that her mess seemed to be disappearing. As soon as she was able to regain muscle control, she committed to a second climax.
	Keeping her panties on, she turned around, sitting on the toilet, feeling the warmth grow beneath her seat once more as the dirty pool seeped into her stained panties, completely saturating them, and certainly the fur beneath them. She pulled the crotch aside, now looping her tail around her thigh and squeezing gently. She began to rub herself slowly, now feeling on her fingers just how dirty she was. She moaned softly as she slipped her fingers down, feeling more mess untainted from her pee under her, pulling it forward and slipping it with her fingers inside her pussy, fingering slowly in and out all the way to her knuckles. Pausing, she lifted her fingers to her snout, sniffing the blend of her arousal and mess on them, all three substances distinct yet blended. Closing her eyes, she sucked on her fingers slowly, savoring the surprisingly mild flavor, the salty tang of her urine and sex the most prominent, as her tail now began to tease the opening of her folds. Moving in round, fluid motions, she began to gather more of her mess on her tail, before slowly fucking herself. The increased girth and messiness of her tail made her bite down on her fingers, sucking harder as she slowly began to slip her tail in and out of her moist folds. Withdrawing her fingers, she lowered them once more to her pussy, rubbing her exposed clit in small circles, her mess still abundant and tingling on her sensitive flesh.
	Her tail wriggled within her, trying to twist, pushing her mess deeper and exploring every ridge and crease. Slowly, as her muscles relaxed, her sex becoming warmer and wetter once more, she began to play more roughly, stretching herself as she rubbed faster and harder. She could feel herself approaching her second climax, leaning back on the toilet, paying no mind to the loud scraping of the porcelain lid as she nudged it. She would worry about it later; what mattered now was giving in to her pleasure. She began to tease herself once more, just to send her over the edge completely.
	"I made a p-poopy mess," Chelse said, feeling her ears and cheeks flush hot, "in my panties. Mmh, my c-cute little panties! P-potty panties," she began to hump in place, still riding her tail, but now rubbing her butt in the greasy mess beneath her. "My paw--ah fff--I'm a little potty pants--I love wearing my poopy panties! Feeling all that mess on my--mmh it's in me! Poopies in my pussy!" She now rubbed her clit quickly, feeling her muscles convulse. "Ooooh~" she cooed, softly at first, growing louder before chopping up into little squeaks as she threw her head back, desperately trying to open her eyes, to continue seeing her messy state as she came, but her body wanted otherwise, colorful green and purple dots flashing in her vision even with her eyes closed. She pressed her tail inside her one final time, slow and deep, its only movement now coming in the form of electric spasms which tickled her g-spot as she continued to press her clit weakly, hardly noticing herself loose bladder control once more. There was no pressure behind her stream; it simply ran down her folds to warm her mess beneath her, dripping off the edge of the toilet to join the puddle on the tile. Her toes, in-between curling, dipped into the warm filth of the puddle on the floor, and while she was keenly aware of the source of the warmth, she was in too deep a state of bliss to pay any mind.
	It was only after her second climax when she began to observe the full extent of the mess she had made. The puddle beneath her feet was a light brown, with a few darker swirls laced along the edge closest to the toilet. The lid she sat on was completely covered in an ivory-gold, with dark streaks where her mess had been smeared thicker underneath her. Her panties themselves were nearly unrecognizable, now almost entirely a single shade of brown, with glimpses of the prints faintly visible. The sides were nearly untouched by her mess, and there were a few dry spots left, but even the sides had a few light spots from urine splashing. Luckily, the rest of her clothes remained untouched. Her thighs were streaked with brown. Surprisingly, the last thing to come to mind was the scent, which had by now filled the room.
	Standing up slowly, an arm on the counter to prevent her slipping in her puddle, she began to realize how much cleanup awaited her beneath her soiled panties. As cooled urine ran down the back and inner edges of her thighs, she felt the matted bunches of fur, the gooey bits of mess making her panties cling to her, and the growing tingle growing in her loins. Though she knew she would need to clean up immediately, a part of her wanted to just stay in her panties, maybe even leap across the hallway into her room and just enjoy the rest of her day covered in mess. After stripping off her tank top and bra, she briskly wiped down the toilet and tile (the results of which requiring several flushes, making her once again thankful for her privacy), sprayed a copious amount of perfume around the room, and then removed as much mess as she could from her panties before turning on the vent fan and stepping into the shower, intending to thoroughly wash her panties as much as she could before cleaning herself off.

	Her panties washed off better than she had expected; the stains were only very faint. After tossing them in the wash with the rest of the laundry, they came out completely clean, making the gears in her head turn as she fantasized about making this her special pair. They were really cute, and the white fabric made it all the more arousing and easy to watch the stains grow.  Yes, this pair would be her special potty pants, at least until they needed to be retired. She smiled to herself. That wouldn't be long, or at least, they wouldn't last many sessions.