Josh loved Cheetos enough to get Cheeto-branded boxers, so I wasn't surprised when he decided to eat a long out-of-date pack of them that had slipped behind my kitchen drawer unnoticed. He scoffed them while we waited for the train, barely stopping to take a breath. We were headed to London for the weekend, and living in rural North Yorkshire, it was going to be a long train journey.
We got to York without much issue and changed over for a train to Peterborough, planning to get the train to London from there. 1 hour and 30 minutes with no stops. As we sat down and the train started to depart the York station, a man's voice rung out through the tannoy, "Welcome aboard this train to London via Peterborough. I regret to inform you that the in-carriage toilets will be out of service for the duration of your journey, we apologise for any inconvenience." I shrugged it off, but looking up I saw a twinge of uncertainty across Josh's face as he rubbed his lower abdomen.
About 15 minutes into the journey, Josh let out a sudden loud fart. He tried to laugh it off, "Sorry, mate. The cheetos make me a little-" another round of wind slipped out, "A little gassy." The laughter felt forced.
It wasn't long before Josh permanently had his hand clutched to his stomach, and he was ripping ass constantly. He leaned in closer to me and whispered, "Sorry, I know it stinks. I think I need a shit. Did they say the toilets were completely out of order?"
I tried not to smirk as I nodded politely.
"Fuck." Josh leaned to the side to spread his cheeks as another hot arse blast filled his joggers.
Another 5 minutes went by and I could see Josh squirming in his seat. There was panic in his eyes, and he was constantly checking his phone to see how much longer he was gonna be trapped on the train. He shifted in his seat again, lifting one arse-cheek slightly, to release another long, hissing blast. Josh's face went pale. "Bro, I don't think I can hold it much longer..." he whispered, voice tight. "I need to shit like... really bad."
Another involuntary fart bubbled out, and it sounded wet. "Fuck it, I'm gonna try the toilets anyway. Maybe the announcement was bullshit."
Another rancid burst slipped out as he pulled himself up from the seat, groaning. Josh waddled up the isle with one hand clamped firmly around his peachy arse-cheeks. His joggers were sagging now and the fabric of his boxers were hugging the curve tight enough to reveal every clench of his hole as he made his way towards the toilet.
He tried the handle. Locked, of course. "No, shit! No!" he hissed, one hand banging on the door with the other pressed firmly into his backside as another wet flurry forced its way into his sweaty palm.
Josh scuffled back towards me, staring into my eyes like he was pleading I could somehow magically fix the toilet. As soon as he lowered himself toward the seat, another brutal cramp slammed into him. He froze halfway down, ass hovering an inch above the cushion, knees knocking together.
“Fuuuuck-,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I can feel it pushing out... if I sit down it’s going to explode into my pants.”
He stayed frozen in that half-squat position, one hand frantically rubbing and pressing against his hole through the fabric. A long, loud, spluttery fart ripped out anyway - wetter than before, ending with a unmistakable soft crackling sound. Josh’s eyes widened in horror.
Suddenly, he grabbed my arm, his nails digging into my flesh. “Mate, I really can't hold it. I need to shit so bad. Fuck-" his eyes were watering now, "I'm gonna crap myself." He nodded down at his thighs, which were visibly quivering with the effort. A fresh wave of hot, cheesy farts bubbled out in rapid succession — three wet blasts in under ten seconds.
“Mate… oh fuck, please,” he gasped, voice raw and broken with panic. “I need your help. I’m literally about to shit myself right here like a fucking toddler.”
Another savage cramp hit. Josh’s eyes rolled back slightly as he fought it, legs quaking, a low animalistic groan escaping his throat. A fresh, louder crackling squelch sounded as more warm, semi-liquid shit pulsed out despite his efforts. The smell thickened instantly - thick, pungent, eye-watering rotten cheese mixed with pure shit. "Please... help me hold it. Touch my ass and squeeze it shut before the next wave comes and I completely fill my pants in front of everyone.”
My heart raced as I reached my hand around Josh's waist and clamped his arse between my fingers. I felt a hot blast against my palm as Josh winced in embarrassment. His hole tensed as he held back another violent wave.
The next fart wasn't so manageable. Josh moaned violently as a wet splutter squirted liquid shit over his boxers. I pulled my hand away in horror when I felt the warm dampness spread beneath my fingertips.
"Fuck! I can't!" A violent roar rung out from Josh's backside as he bent over, revealing the brown smearing across his orange boxers.
Frantically, he grabbed his backpack and yanked at the zipper, failing to control the torrent now streaming down his legs. He squatted over the bag and released merciless ropes of diarrhoea, groaning in pain. His arse continued to let out a wailing wind-cannon from his insides, shit spraying over the seat and floor.
Eventually, we arrived at the stop in Peterborough, where Josh spent an hour blowing up the single stall in the station. The incident put him off Cheetos for life.
"Oh, good morning, I see you were eager to make a start on my ass. Didn't even let me wake up before you were pulling down my shorts. Ok then, get your tongue in there. Though just as a warning, I've got some morning gas brewing... Ah thats better...no, no, it's what you wanted, don't back out now"
Chase had considered himself popular until today. No-one had remembered his birthday, not his friends, not his family, no-one. To make himself feel better he drove to his favourite Mexican takeout for the first time in almost a year. The management had taken over and food hygiene has plummeted to the floor. He'd heard horror stories about how "Casa del Viento" tacos had randomly started turning family homes and frat houses alike into biohazard zones. But, it was his birthday and the loveable tacos from his childhood were all he craved.
He ate his fiery birthday meal in the silence of his car, willing the phone to buzz with a message from anyone. "This shit is so weird..." he muttered to himself, "No-one forgets my birthday normally. And the fact it's my 21st as well!" Chase scoffed at the phone and took a big chug of cola. He could already feel the bubbles mixing with the food as a low gurgle rumbled through his stomach.
Chase finished off the last of his overstuffed tacos, licking the spicy salsa off his fingers, before starting up the engine and heading home. The drive was about 45 minutes, which is part of the reason he doesn't go to Casa Del Viento often. His belly bubbled and fizzed as he coasted along. Every so often a warm, wet little fart slipped out, silent but deadly, filling the car with the unmistakable sharp tang of cheap tacos and cola. He cracked the window and chuckled to himself, "Damn, maybe I can't handle the spice as much as I used to."
But as the miles ticked by, the gurgles grew louder and more insistent. His stomach clenched suddenly, sending a hot, bloated pressure downward. Another fart escaped, this one louder, brassier. He shifted in the driver’s seat, trying to get comfortable, but the seatbelt pressed right against the swelling tightness in his gut.
“Fuck… maybe those tacos were a mistake,” he grumbled, one hand drifting down to rub his belly in slow circles.
Ten minutes later and Chase's face was flushed scarlet. "God, my stomach really doesn't feel right..." he muttered to himself through gritted teeth as a thin line of sweat coated his eyebrows. His guts grumbled again, forcing yet another wet, sputtering fart.
He was halfway home, but in front of him was a long road with too many traffic lights for peace-of-mind. Another cramp hit, sharper this time, making him lean forward slightly in the seat. “Fuck… fuck, come on, hold it together,” he whispered, one hand pressing firmly against his swollen belly. There was a hot, fiery pressure in his intestines now, and he knew those tacos were gonna be demanding their way out a lot sooner than he'd expected.
Chase swallowed hard, thinking about the mess he was probably gonna make of his toilet at home. "At least I've got the house to myself,” he thought, with another loud, wet fart exploding out uncontrollably. The desperation was setting in for real now: that awful, clenching panic that whispered he might not even make it that far. Red light. He slowed to a stop, thighs squeezed together, praying the light would hurry the hell up.
“Come on… come on, you piece of shit, turn green already,” he muttered under his breath. A deep, liquid groan rumbled from his belly. Immediately after a wet fart blasted out - hot, sputtering, and far too squelchy for comfort. The smell was vicious now, thick and eggy with that unmistakable fiery taco aftermath. He lifted his asscheek slightly as another gust of hot gas ripped out of his bowels. "Fuck, change! Go!"
After what felt like eternity, the light went green. He immediately throttled on the accelerator. "Fuuuckk!" he moaned as he lifted his arse off of the seat and another fart slipped out, "Come on!"
He was, at this point, way over the speed limit. A massive, wet fart exploded out of him as he sped through the next intersection. It was the kind of fart that vibrated against the seat and left no doubt something more than gas had just escaped. One hand flew down between his legs, pressing hard against his twitching hole through his shorts as he clenched it shut with all his glute strength. “Not yet! I'm almost home! Fuck! I don't know if I can hold it!”
Eventually, he pulled into his cul-de-sac, but there was a torrent of diarrhoea sat against the gateway to his nether-region. Every bump in the road made him jolt as the tsunami threatened to break through his sphincter. “Come on… come on, I can make it…” he muttered desperately, voice shaky, another wet fart ripping out.
Chase barely slowed down as he swung into his driveway, the tires kicking up a little gravel. The second he pulled the handbrake up, another brutal cramp slammed into him like a freight train. “Oh fuck- oh fuck!” he moaned desperately, his voice high and broken.
He scrambled out of the car, one hand flying straight back to clamp hard against his ass through his shorts. His legs were shook like jelly beneath him as he scrambled up the driveway. Juicy, splattering bursts rampaged out uncontrollably with every frantic step. “No no no no no! Please not now...” he whimpered, fumbling wildly for his keys in his pocket with his free hand while the other stayed glued to his clenching, twitching hole.
He jammed the key into his front door, sweat pouring down his face. Another wet blast forced its way out, accompanied by a sticky feeling already spreading in his underwear. The door finally clicked open. Chase practically fell inside, hand still clamped desperately against his ass, ready to bolt straight for the bathroom.
"SURPRISE!!!"
The living room lights flipped on. A giant “Happy 21st Chase!” banner was strung across the ceiling. There were a dozen familiar faces of his family and friends, all grinning and holding up drinks and gifts. Their cheers died instantly as they took in the sight of him: red-faced, sweating, bent over with one hand buried between his cheeks.
Then, the dam burst.
His hole gave up with zero warning. A loud, wet squelch exploded out of him as the massive, fiery payload finally burst free. Hot, liquid shit flooded into his shorts instantly, soaking through the fabric in heavy, unstoppable waves. It poured down the back of his legs in thick, chunky rivulets, splattering onto the entryway floor with wet, disgusting plops. The smell hit the room like a nuke, people gagging and looking away in horror.
Chase froze, eyes wide in horror, mouth open in a silent scream. Another heavy gush leaked out, running all the way down to his socks. His shorts were ruined, sagging heavily with the weight of his waste. A final weak fart bubbled through the mess with a sickening squelch.
The room fell silent, well, except the faint dripping sound.
my older brother was a grade A bully my whole life. His go to was to make me make bets with him that he’d always win. I stopped playing video games all together because I started to associate them with being forced to smell his farts. I’d wised up though and stopped agreeing to any bets with him. But as much as I hate to admit it my brother is just smarter than me and he knew exactly what buttons to push to get me to bet with him again,
I’d recently started playing a lot of online chess. I wasn’t the best but I certainly better than most casual players. My brother noticed my new hobby and started teasing me about it. “Of course you love chess, nerd” “I don’t know what’s more embarrassing, you spending your free time playing chess with a robot, or that you always lose to that robot!” And eventually the comment he’d been building up to the whole time “You’re such a loser. I bet you couldn’t even beat me at chess”. I wish it didn’t but this caused me to look up from my phone. His evil eyes and cheeky smile goading me. “Seriously? Do you even know how to play chess?” My voice was dripping with annoyance.
my brother chuckled “of course! It’s just a bunch of knights and kings and wizards and shit that dorks like you play with on a board”. I rolled my eyes at him. “There are no wizards in chess”
“okay Dorkwad. Wizards or not I bet I can beat your ass at chess with ease”. There it was again. I should’ve just ignored him but feeling confident against my brother for the first time I answered “oh yea what do you bet?” This is when my brother’s face grew into a full on wicked smile. I should’ve known then betting with him was still a bad idea.
my brother feigned thinking for a moment but he had already planned all of this out. “How about…the winner gets to give the loser wedgies all night and the loser has to let them”. My brother raised his eyebrows up and down at me a couple times playfully.
The wedgie bet did embolden me further. Usually my brother’s bets were nastier. Fart sniffing or foot rubs. I’d even lost one before where my face had to be his deodorant stick for a whole week, that was a rough one. But just wedgies and for just one night? I deduced that meant he wasn’t confident in his win and didn’t want to risk subjecting himself to anything too brutal for too long. Of course I was wrong.
“fine. You’re on, wedgie boy!” I jabbed back at my brother. This made him laugh. “That’s the spirit bro!”
We made our way to the chess board in the den and while I did have whispered thoughts that this was not a good idea, that my brother could actually be good at chess, it was a cake walk. He didn’t play with any strategy just moving pieces on whims. Whereas I knew exactly what I was doing with each move I made. The game was fine in less than ten minutes. “Ahh nice job dork. I guess you win”. I was so happy I had finally gotten one over on my brother. “Ready for your wedgies, loser!” I tried my best to sound like him.
“Give me one sec bro. I’m actually free balling at the moment.” My brother played with his junk as he said that making me roll my eyes. He left to go out on underwear, or so I thought, and I started to set the board back up. I did take a picture of my dominant win first just so I could lord it over him for a while. I wasn’t pay attention when my brother returned though. In his hands were a roll of duct tape and two large zip ties. Before I had a chance to even compress what was happening he had my hands behind my back and was restraining them with vigor.
“What the hell dude!” I exclaimed as he jumped off me laughing at the sight of me,
arms bound behind my back.
“Uh oh dork, how’re you supposed to give me any wedgies with your arms stuck like that?”. He was playing dumb and really pissing me off.
“Exactly dude let me go!” I yelled at him. My arms pathetically swinging behind my back. “Oh wait I have an idea!” My brother spoke with a mocking tone. I saw his eyes grow dark and his smirk became slightly more aggressive. I knew that meant I needed to get away but I was already cornered. My brother was on me and had my head pinned face up on the den couch cushion in seconds. “There ya go bro. You won fair and square. So I have to let you give me wedgies allll night”. He emphasized the word have as he stood over me his legs straddling both sides of my body. “But without hands I guess your only option is to wedgie me with your face!” My brother then dropped his shorts exposing his crusty boxer briefs. I really started to struggle then but I couldn’t get up with my hands tied
“Don’t worry loser, I only wore these to the gym three times last week. They’re pretty clean”. Turning around my brother showed me his boxer clad ass. A light skidmark running up his crack. “Dude please don’t! I won this isn’t fair!” I begged as my brother began to squat down on my face. His ass and skidmark growing in size as they approached me until I was consumed in his musk.
“Ahhh there it is. Come on dorkazoid. Do your worst. I want my underwear wedged up my crack the farthest you can get it.” My brother teased as he rubbed his crack on my face pushing my face deeper and deeper. His ass stunk so bad. A combination of his unwashed dirty underwear and him never washing his ass either.
“Wow bro, this isn’t so bad. I don’t know why you’re always such a whiny baby whenever I wedgie you”. My brother teased as if the wedgies he gave me even compared to him shoving my face in his butt.
“Uh oh dork! I’m feeling a little gassy. I guess wedgie night is gonna be a lot more than you signed up for!” My brother cackled and all I could think was I will never bet with him again.
This is why you all need to start your own blogs so I can have more stories like this to read ☝️
Will and Joe are driving to Kate’s place for the Friday night get together after gorging themselves on the new surf and turf buffet place near their job that they had been eyeing for a few weeks now. Will wants to make a good impression on Kate’s friend Mara, and Joe was more than happy to tag along as wingman to help his friend. However, halfway there, Joe noticeably feels some discomfort grow from his lower abdomen. “Damn, my stomach hurts. I don’t think I should have eaten all those clams” Joe says as he squirms in his seat. “Do you want me to pull over? If you’re too sick I can drop you off back at your place” Will responded. “No, no, I’ll be fine.” “Are you going to throw up?” “No, I don’t think so. But I do think I might have to take a nasty dump real soon.” “Dude, please do not blow this for me. I’ve been dying to see Mara and the last thing I need is for you to get us kicked out and shamed for blowing up their bathroom.” “Fine, fine, but its on you if I shit myself.”
About 10 min later they arrive at the house; Will parks the car and they both start walking up to door when Will clutches his stomach. “Fuck” “What is it?” “That buffet is racing is through me.” “I told you! Let’s leave and find a gas station.” “No way, I’m not ruining my chance with Mara by skipping this party because of indigestion. Let’s just fart a little outside right now. We’ll be good if we release some pressure.” With that Will lifted his leg a little and ripped a long and juicy bomb. “Fuck that stinks” Joe said as he waved his hands in front of his face. “You sure you didn’t shit yourself?” “I definitely just laid some skidmarks with the heat and moisture of that one, but I think I’ll be okay” Will laughed. With that, Joe clenched his face a little and pushed out his ass while releasing a quiet but hot stream of wind. The noxious odor of his gas mixed with Will’s and both quickly coughed and gagged before deciding they were good enough to enter the party.
As the two entered the house, they greeted everyone they saw and quickly settled into their spots on a couch in the corner. They felt fine with the notable exception of both their stomachs loudly gurgling and churning every few minutes. At one point, Joe leans over and whispers to Will “I think I have about 15 mins before this bomb in my lower intestine deploys, so find your girl and make your moves ASAP.” Just like that, Mara and Kate turned a corner and quickly said hi to the boys before catching up about the week’s events. Kate knew Will and Mara had a thing going on, so she quickly left the two while coming up with some lame excuse to drag Joe away from the corner with her. Mara snuggled up to Will and he rested his arm around her, sinking into the couch. For a moment, everything seemed perfect, and then his guts roared with an angry “blrgblrgblrg” before he felt a bowling ball drop from his stomach to his ass. “Are you okay” Mara asked inquisitively, obviously hearing the commotion from his insides. “Yeah, I’m fine, just a little hungry” Will said as calmly as possible while sweat began to bead on his forehead. “I can get you a little something if you want” Mara said but Will told her not to worry and that he would look for something himself. He carefully got up, clenching his cheeks the entire time, and as he turned the corner to the kitchen he texted Joe “S.O.S. need a toilet and distraction ASAP.”
Joe had been with Kate and a few other friends near the drinks table talking about random topics when he received the text. For the past few minutes, Joe too had been feeling the effects of the buffet grow stronger and more violent on his insides and knew he would need to bounce soon before he risked an accident. “Hey, is there a room in this place where I can make a phone call? Something came up with the night shift and they need me, and it’s a little too cold outside to stand there for more than a few minutes” Joe hastily explained to Kate. She laughed and assured him the upstairs wasn’t being used by anyone except for a few straggling couples looking for a dark corner to have 7 minutes in heaven. With that, he quickly jetted and texted Will “upstairs, now.” Too bad he didn’t hear Kate’s voice over the crowd saying to not use the upstairs toilet because it was broken.
As Will climbed the stairs, he had to steady himself at several points, both to appear casual and to regain control over his body from releasing the contents of his bowels. At the top of the steps he turned the corner down the long hallway to see only one poor man passed out on the floor and a couple on the far end kissing, laughing, and whispering god knows what to each other. He wasn’t sure where to go until another text appeared: “second door on the left.” Will approached the door and quickly knocked. “Occupied!” Joe’s voice rang out from behind the door. “It’s me” Will responded. He heard a brief click of the door unlocking before Joe told him to come in. Will swung the door open and stepped into the bathroom, unsure of what he expected but certainly not the scene that lay before him.
The bathroom itself was tiny, the door opening right on the toilet with a sink and shower crammed next to each other in the corner and a small window next to the porcelain throne. Joe was pants down, already sitting on the toilet. His face had turned red and he was drenched in sweat. The back of the toilet seat from his ass to the upright lid was sprayed in chunky, wet, light brown shit. A noxious odor of sulfur and manure permeated the room. Will gagged, wanting to throw up at the sight and smell. Immediately, Joe clenched his face and a booming fart echoed off the porcelain for 10 seconds straight. Joe turned to Will with a pathetic, wild, and desperate look in his face. “I couldn’t hold it. It just keeps comING” Joe screamed and winced as a liquid torrent of toxic sludge dropped from his ass into the bowl below. At that, Will felt his own guts churn. “Finish up now. I need to go.” “You can’t rush these things.” “I’m not about to shit myself while you hog the toilet.” “Remember the chicken fingers incident from senior year of high school?” “No way it’s that bad, those porta potties were condemned after we were done with them.” “Well it’s pretty damn close!” Joe let out another squeaker from his behind before growling in a low voice “it burrrrrrns”. Will, desperate to avoid an accident, looked around what he could use. That’s when the trash can came into view.
“I’m so sorry” Will looked at his friend who stared back in confusion for a moment before realizing what Will intended to do as he reached for the bin. “I’ll finish up in a few minutes, I swear!” Joe pleaded. But it was too late. Will positioned the trash bin against the door, dropped his pants and shit stained underwear from earlier, and hovered over the bin as low as he could without sitting on it, making direct eye contact with Joe across from him. Immediately, Will’s ass made an inhuman noise as a mix of gas and black, muddy shit exploded out in all directions. It landed in the trash bin, but also splattered the door, the back of Will’s legs, and a good part of the wall and floor around them. Joe stared in shock as an endless stream followed the initial eruption, filling the small waste basket to the brim. Throughout, a loud and long stream of wind sputtered out Will’s sphincter, spraying more shit around the bathroom. Will’s face transformed from terror, to shock, to relief, to pure ecstasy as the last of his shit volcano winded down for the time being. Will quickly bit his bottom lip, let out a long sigh followed by one more rip of gas, and looked at Joe to say “my asshole is on fire” before slowly laughing. Joe didn’t know how to react, so he started laughing too. “We are fuckin sick, dude.” Joe responded as he let out some more gas. “Alright, here’s the plan” said Will as he gripped his thighs and pushed out some more turdlets from his hole. “We put a cork in both of ourselves. Clean up what we can here. Leave unassumingly and find a Walmart bathroom to destroy with whatever’s left. If the girls ask, we had a work emergency.”
“I’m down with that plan but how exactly do you expect us to get away with it? We both just wrecked this bathroom, there’s no way we can get rid of all the evidence.” “Sure we can, let’s start with the basic. Pass me some TP.” As Joe and Will both leaned towards the toilet paper holder, they realized instantly that there was none. “Shit shit shit.” Will said and felt as he realized they were sitting ducks. “I have an idea” said Joe, as he began to strip his clothes, careful to avoid any of the shit sprayed on the toilet, floor, or bathroom fixtures. “What are you doing?” said Will. “I’m going to wash up” said Joe as he stepped into the tiny shower next to the toilet. “Wanna join?” “Fuckkk…yeah hold on” Will said as he too began to strip. Soon, both guys were bare ass naked and hosing themselves down, still releasing little spurts of shit and gas that they mashed down the drain before it could stain the tiles too badly. “How are we gonna dry off when we’re done in here?” “I don’t know man, lets just take this one step at a time.” Both men mentally noted how firm and attractive the other’s ass was and how thick their cocks were; after all they were both bisexual, but a shower fuck was out of the question given the circumstances. When they were done, they grabbed a small hand towel on the sink and took turns drying off their lower bodies before putting their clothes back on, careful to dispose off their stained underwear in the shit-filled trash can. Will wrinkled his nose, as the leftover shower steam made it apparent how badly the two of them had polluted the air in the room. With no fan, their only option was to open the small window and air it out; too bad for them, the window wouldn’t budge.
“Alright, we’re clean but the bathroom is still a wreck. How do you propose we escape this situation?” Joe asked. “I have an idea” said Will, before carefully opening the door to the hallway and scanning around the upstairs. “Help me with something” Will said as he stepped out the room into the hallway with Joe on his heels. The young couple that had been their earlier were long gone, but the poor bastard that had too much to drink and passed out was still sprayed on the floor, mumbling incoherently. Joe looked at Will for a second, confused, before he realized what his friend was up to as Will reached for the man’s arms. “We can’t let an innocent dude take the fall!” Joe exclaimed in a whispered breath, careful not to alert the attention of the party guests still downstairs. “Better him than us” said Will. “Besides, it looks like he’s not totally innocent” Will said as he flipped the man over, only to reveal a fresh and thick shit stain on the crack of his jeans. The man quickly grumbled, muttering under his breath “Don’t….eat….clams” before ripping a wet and noxious fart. “You don’t have to tell me twice” said Joe as he resigned himself to the plan and grabbed the man’s legs. The two of them dragged the man into the bathroom, slowly removed his pants and sat him upright on the toilet to ensure he didn’t drown in his own vomit and to also make the scene more convincing. Joe, feeling bad for letting the stranger take the fall, tried to flush the toilet to minimize the damage, but instead his shit water in the bowl rose and spilled over a little, soaking the man’s balls and crack in the foul refuse from earlier. “Anything else we need to do before we abandon this poor sucker?” Joe asked, exhausted from the turn of events. “Just one thing” Will said before pulling his ass back out of his pants and ripping a wet fart that sprayed some more shit on the wall. “Now I’m good.” The two guys quickly left the bathroom as the incoherent stranger mumbled something about the smell before closing the door and making their way slowly down the stairs.
The two of them escaped the party unnoticed and it wasn’t until 10 minutes later they received a text from Kate asking where they had gone. Joe responded that there had been a work emergency with the computer system and night shift needed them pronto to debug a possible virus from crashing the company software; he even sent her fake screenshots of text convos with coworkers that he made months prior to use in such a situation where he needed to abruptly leave an event for any reason. Mara, meanwhile, texted Will, feeling bummed they couldn’t spend more time together but happy they got to see each other. Will responded with a smile emoji and a simple “We’ll plan for another time.” 10 minutes later, Joe pulled off to travel center parking lot and the two of them spent the next 30 minutes erupting into their bowls. At one point, Kate texted both of them asking if they knew what happened to John, the brother of an ex coworker who was at the party. Both responded no until Kate sent the photos of the incoherent man in the wrecked bathroom. Joe and Will laughed guiltily but hysterically while diarrhea continued to explode out of their assholes, having gotten away with what they considered the crime of the century. As they cleaned up, Will told Joe “next time either one of us suggests a buffet, let’s not.” Joe laughed as he let out one final long and stinging fart at the sinks while he washed his hands.
{ Jordie Remains stuck to his brother’s Tyler’s ass, but Tyler too has needs, and he one of those is that he really needs to use the Toilet }
………
I woke up to the familiar weight of Tyler's ass pressing down on my face, the glue was still holding me prisoner and refused to give up. The night had been a nightmare, trapped under (or within?) my brother’s ass during the night was a torture as the combination of his ass sweat, the heat of the summer, the blanket for some reason covering us, and the sporadic fart that jolted me awake and turned Dutch-ovened me turned my night into something like a sauna from hell.
My mouth and tongue felt raw from the accidental licks and the constant exposure to his musky crack. But as the morning light filtered through the curtains, and Tyler started stirring away and pulling on me with his hip’s movement, I realized with dread that the glue hadn't budged an inch. If anything, my face felt more fused to his cheeks, the dried sweat and residue acting like an extra adhesive.
Tyler stirred above me, groaning as he stretched. "Ugh... good morning?" His voice was groggy, He shifted, trying to sit up, but that only ground his hole closer to my lips. He then let out a small, involuntary pfft—a leaky fart that hissed right into my mouth, warm and sour, like spoiled milk mixed with last night's beans. It lingered, making my eyes water.
I could hear his stomach gurgling now, a deep, ominous rumble that vibrated through his body and into mine. I then felt him tense around me as he muttered something. It had been building all night, I realized. Ever since he'd ignored the bathroom before bed, too lazy or too "worked up" to deal with it. And now, with me still glued in place, there was no escape.
My heart pounded as panic set in.
Unfortunately it was true.
“I don’t know how to say this bro,but I really need to use the toilet,” said Jordie to me in a very stiff voice. “Let’s try to loosen the glue in the shower but… if not, we’ll need to look into some alternatives”.
So we directed ourselves towards the bathroom, where we tried again to ply ourselves apart under the shower with no avail. After doing that and drying ourselves up, I could feel Jordie’s patience starting to slip.
So against my futile protests, he positioned himself over the toilet, but it was useless—my face was sealed right there, nose pressed into his hairy crack, lips brushing his pucker. He squatted awkwardly, thighs straining, but the angle was all wrong. "Jordie... dude, I can't hold it. It's been more than a day. " His voice was strained. "I'm sorry, man. This is fucked up. But if I don't... it'll just come out anyway, and you'll probably choke on it anyway. So the only alternative I see is if you just... open your mouth? I know it’s gross as fuck that you have to eat my shit, and I didn’t plan on truly really using you as a toilet, but…Please? I’ll try to make it quick."
I protested, but he ignored me and instead took out some towels and put them on the ground before trying to sit down, I tried to resist with no results. I was going to hurt myself if I continued to resist, so after some more fighting I gave up and let Tylee take over. I was already sort of resigned. Tyler had already gotten into his head that this was the best solution for his issue, so my opinion had just become irrelevant.
I was just to resign myself and try to endure the next events.
The final position needed as he squatted over, my head was cushioned by the towels, as he squatted on my face, crushing me somewhat with his weight as he held the rest of his body weight by gripping between the Toitel and the sink.
He said with more urgency.
“I’m gonna start now Jordie, just tap me when you’ve had about a mouthful, and I’ll try to cut it off there.
I braced myself, heart hammering as Tyler's weight settled heavier, his grip tightening on the sink and toilet for balance.
The towels cushioned my head, but nothing could soften the dread twisting my gut. I knew Tyler's habits all too well, he was a typical jock obsessed with fueling his ripped body with protein. And after living with him all my life, I knew what that lifestyle meant for his gut. But, I’ve never considered it something of my concern until now.
"Here we go," Tyler muttered, urgency sharpening his voice as he bore down. At first, just a tense silence, his hole clenching against my lips, the musky hairs tickling my nose.
Then…bam!
There was No slow buildup, but a sudden, chaotic blast. His pucker spasmed open, unleashing a hot, loose explosion straight into my mouth—not a flood, thank god, but overwhelming in its sloppy fury. It was like a pressurized fart turned to mush, spraying bitter, acidic sludge across my tongue and cheeks in erratic bursts.
The taste hit like a gut punch: tangy and sharp, like fermented veggies and meat mixed with the sour bite aroma of beans and an undercurrent from yesterday's eggs. Slimy flecks clung everywhere, warm and gritty, the stench blooming thick and pungent, searing my nostrils even as I clamped my jaw to contain it. I gagged violently, body bucking under him, tears flooding my eyes, the humiliation crashing in waves as my brother's loose shit painted my mouth like some vile abstract art.
Tyler let out a sharp grunt, surprise lacing his strained tone. "Ah, shit—sorry, bro, that ripped out quicker than expected." There was a flicker of reluctance there, like he hadn't planned the mess, his body tensing with mild urgency to regain control.
Tyler felt weird, shitting down his brother's mouth was weird, but he had to relieve himself somehow. Still, the experience was… weird. There was barely any sound, as when he was in the toilet and every emission of his ass was heard with the sort of echo a porcelain toilet had. Instead, it felt muffled. He barely heard anything if not for the surprises moaning and wriggling and kicking Jordie made under him.
Plus the contact of his asshole with another warm wet hole wasn’t so… unpleasant.
Still, he trie not giving it too much thought as he was bursting and in need to continue.
Unaware of my brother’s thoughts, the initial trauma wrecked me. I choked on the loose gunk, coughing up bits that splattered back into his crack, my mind screaming at the depravity—swallowing the sloppy prelude to my own brother's waste, the flavor invading every corner, shame hotter than the mess itself. But after those frantic first swallows to clear my airway—gulping down the tangy sludge before it drowned me—it... evened out. Sort of.
Tyler eased up a notch, his voice leveling. "Okay, that wasn't the cleanest start. Are you good? Tap if there's too much. The Main course is coming—try to keep up."
He pushed again, and the solid logs kicked in, Tyler's diet on full display—abundant and merciless, exactly as I'd dreaded. The first one emerged deliberate, thick and firm from all that protein and roughage, crowning slowly against my lips before sliding in like a heavy coil over my tongue.
It was heavy and I found myself forced into tasting the dense log of overwhelmingly stinkin 'literal shit filling my mouth. The decal matter coming out my Tyler’s ass in combination with the occasional fart that inflated my cheeks like balloons made It felt like having a drainage pipe connected to my mouth. And it may have been my imagination, or my brain trying to form a distraction, but through the incredibly bitter taste I almost could swear I tasted yesterday’s meal’s remnants being pushed out of my brother’s guts. The same food that provided him nutrients yesterday was turned into waste and fed to his own brother.
I tapped his thigh double-time with urgency to get him to stop and he grunted, straining to pinch it off. "Yeah... gotcha. Chew it quick, Jordie." The segment packed my mouth solid, forcing rapid bites through the tough texture, gritty chunks going down past the rising nausea. It was stickier than the spray, and I found my body falling into a grim rhythm, adapting to the volume like it was just another thing. Although I still felt like vomiting every time I tried to swallow it down.
After I finished chewing, I tried to wait a bit to gather my bearings, but Tyler must have felt me stopping to chew and decided to continue.
“Ok bro, good job! Next mouthful” he said with urgency. Perhaps because I took a bit too long. But he could try eating shit for the first time if he thought I was slow.
It was then, as he filled my mouth, of course when Tyler's grip slipped. His system was a machine after all, used to pumping out log after log. He lacked the self restraint to wait so much and cut himself. And just like many people can’t cut the stream once they start pissing, Tyler couldn’t stop now that his gut got out of his control.
It all broke. A monster turd of fiber-packed solidity barreled out unbroken—my wild taps ignored as Tyler's abs seized wrong, the whole length dumping into my mouth before I could process. I gagged and choked on the putrid mass filling me.
“Ungh” Tyler groaned from the strain the mass passing through his anus put him through, instinctively pushing more as his brother almost convulsed from the taste under him.
There was no chew time; it jammed the back of my throat, demanding a straight swallow or suffocation. The mass slithered down whole, a wriggling, lumpy bulge stretching my esophagus, unchewed grit rasping the whole way, flavors detonating raw—bitter, fibrous overload that made me retch.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK" Tyler rasped, but he ground down firmed as he continued, forcing me to tilt and gulp it live, the weight coiling into my gut like a living thing. It was the kind of monstrously long, unbroken log that coiled around the bottom toilet. Only now it was forced down my throat and would coil around my stomach. But the desperation for air was a nice motivation, and I swallowed the shit with urgency almost as fast as it came out of a Tyler’s hole.
After a blur, it ended with a dribbly *prrrt* fart.
It was over. And I was tired and tried to catch my breath. I could feel the weight in my stomach and knew it would probably hurt later.
"Whew... that's the lot. It was intense." Regret tinged his words for the chaos, but the persistent bulge in his shorts whispered otherwise. He rose gingerly, hauling me up. “Well, I’m sorry, I guess” he said awkwardly.
Jordie dismissed it, still numb from the experience. Meanwhile, Tyler struggled to suppress an erection as the whole experience somehow turned him on. The guilty pleasure from using his brother like that weighting on his mind as he tried to go about the day.
currently fantasizing about a guy coercing me into a ‘rimjob’ and it immediately turning into something else
i think it’s disgusting, i say no, but he’s insistent. “just try it out” he says, “i’ll stop immediately if you hate it.”
i concede, eagerness to please him overpowering my disgust. i lay down flat, eyeing him as he strips himself of his pants and hovers over me. he spreads his cheeks, and i see his asshole flex.
before i can back out, he drops himself on my face. it’s rank, snd i regret my decision to give in. his asshole is pressed against my lips.
“open up.” he demands, and i hesitantly do as he says. my lips are basically suctioned around his asshole, and i get ready to lick, when his hand grabs my head to hold me in place and he strains.
a nasty fart enters my mouth with a loud PFFFBBBBT, and i immediately gag and cough, squirming and wiggling underneath him.
i hear an “ahhh, fuck” and a sigh of relief. i feel like i’m gonna vomit immediately.
he wiggles his ass a little, burrowing my face deeper in. i tap on his thigh, squirm, cry; anything to show that i don’t want to do this anymore. he ignores me in favor of leaning back, putting his full weight on my face. “stick your tongue out.” i don’t. he smacks me, “i said stick your fucking tongue out, whore, or i’ll shit on your face.”
i feel tears stream down my face, and i do as he says, fearing that he’s not bluffing.
i tentatively lick his hole as he pushes against my tongue. i hear groans of satisfaction above me; i can tell he’s jerking off.
he rips another one, silent, this time so foul i swear it burns my tastebuds off.
he huffs out a laugh, “does it taste as good for you as it did for me?” i sob as he talks loudly about what he had to eat. he tells me how great of a girlfriend i am for helping out with his tummy troubles, how he knows he can’t eat certain foods, but it just tastes so good. and why should he restrict himself when he has such a kind, compassionate girl willing to help him out?
i lay there, huffing each one of his farts without choice, gasping for air every time he readjusts and frees my head for just a moment. there are a couple times where i beg him to stop, to let me up, but he just laughs at me and sits back down.
if i’m lucky, he’ll run out of gas soon, if not, well, hopefully he’ll move before gas turns into something more solid
make me eat your ass and start shitting in my mouth with no warning, press the back of my head into your shithole if i am not being a grateful cunt for finding use for something as worthless as me, make me choke down your shit until my mouth is empty and i go back to eating your asshole, when youre done clear your throat well and spit out all the nastiness on my tongue, make me thank you for being nice enough to give me your nasty throat slime as a desert after my shit meal
nose up one friend's hot, greasy hole while you're being facefucked by another friend straddling you❤️ mgrmngh the one smushing their ass against your face, rubbing their stinky pucker against your nose as they force you to take deepdeep breaths while they moan out loud, blasting blubbering, cheesy farts constantly. and that's the only way you can inhale because your mouth is preoccupied by your other friend thrusting their sloppy dick deep down your throat as they bounce on your chest, muggy balls slapping against your chin as their own rippers reverberate against your stomach, couch shuddering under the weight of two bodies treating you like a piece of meat❤️ oh to be sandwiched between your friends gassy asshole and your other friends greasy ballsack❤️
A coach transforms a problematic player into a toilet in the Locker Rooms, so he may learn some humility from this humiliating experience.
———
It had all begun the day after the last game. The head coach had called him into his office during practice hours with a frown on his face.
“You are good Marcus, but if you are gonna remain on this team, you’re gonna have to learn some humility, and fast.” He said, tired of Marcus' cocky attitude that drove him to mess with the team dynamic and self-centered attitudes.
Today, that same attitude had led to a fight in the locker rooms between him and another teammate. He blamed the loss on the rest of the team, saying that they did not put “enough effort”, and that he “carries them” and other arrogant stuff like that. The fight would have escalated if not for the rest of the team separating them; but everyone was getting tired of Marcus.
Especially because it wasn’t the first time.
The coach sighed.
“You’ve left me no other choice, I have to take drastic measures” he said while taking out his phone before the flashlight flashed on Marcus.
“Follow me Marcus, I’ll talk while we walk”. He said.
And Marcus followed as if entranced.
…
Marcus followed the coach until they were in the locker rooms. There they walked into the bathroom where the coach opened a door that said “out of service” and got inside.
The space was cramped, and Marcus found himself pressed against the wall on the empty space where the broken toilet was placed.
“Because nothing else seems to work, I’ve decided to take extreme measures. But don’t worry it’ll only be temporal.” He said and typed something in his phone. “But hopefully, this’ll teach you some humility”.
Marcus heard what the coach said, but still in trance, he was unable to respond.
The flash of the camera shone and suddenly, Marcus felt as if his body started to compress and twist. He felt as if he melted down.
‘Wha-What is happening?’ He thought, as he tried to open his mouth, but no sound came out. He felt tight as if he was compressed, and his jaw ached as if it had been forced open. Moreover, he felt twisted and weird. As if he had been lying on his back and petrified.
In the room, where a used and broken toilet had been, there was now a pristine high tech toilet, like the ones seen in Japan.
Marcus saw this, as his vision seemed to spread from everywhere and he seemed to be able to see and feel everything from his surface.
He tried to scream. To stand up. Anything. But the only thing that could be heard was a whirring sound as the tank of the toilet filled and his functions started into motion.
“Congratulations Marcus, you've been transformed into a Toilet. Think of this as a timeout penalty for your behavior, but don’t worry, it’s only temporary. I’ll turn you back at the end of the week” The coach said “Loath as your team and I are about it, you’re a great player, but we’ve gotta teach you some humility. Hopefully serving the needs of the team in a different position will teach you that.” He said.
He made a pause and stared at the new toilet.
“Might as well” he said and promptly took out his cock, aiming at the toilet. A warm stream of yellowish liquid soon streamed for the coach’s unwashed cock.
Marcus could see everything from his position. In fact, he could even smell everything. It was as if his senses not only had remained but had been enhanced by the transformation.
It was with these improved senses that he tasted the salty and bitter urine of his coach, as it filled his mouth and colored what may have counted as his saliva once into mere pissed toilet water. He tried to plead, but no sound could be produced. And only a slight vibration of the toilet could be perceived.
The coach saw this vibration and said. “If this is how you handle pee, I can’t imagine what you’ll do with the rest of the needs of your teammates, let this be a lesson”. He finished, and after shaking his dick, he pulled down on the Toilet’s lever.
The lever was instantly stimulating, and it became clear it was a sensitive part of his new body. As it was pulled, Marcus felt his already sensitive senses improve by a hundred times, truly making him taste the urine while making him swallow it, somehow still feeling as if he was swallowing, and with every gulp, the warm liquid slided against his throat.
“Well, I leave you now. Enjoy the rest of the week." He zipped up, stepped out, and took the “Out of Service” sign. Practice was wrapping up, so he gathered the team outside. "Hey, fellas, good news, the bathroom's fixed. Brand new toilet in that stall. Feel free to use it."
I was alone in the dim stall, my tank refilling with a gurgle that echoed my dread. Unfortunately, it was the end of practice and it wasn’t long before the door creaked open soon after.
The guy opening the door was Carlos, my best friend since freshman year. He was built like a tank on his bulk diet. He slammed the stall door, dropped his shorts, and hovered over my bowl, grunting from the practice’s exertion.
Carlos's ass was massive, his cheeks parting to reveal a hairy crack. As he bore down on what to him was my bowl but to me it could be nothing else but my face, I was hit with the strong pungent smell of his ass and sweat. An acrid and musty smell seemed to fill my nostrils, and a salty taste attacked my taste buds as I realized my seat too had the capacity to savor the sweat from my teammates ass.
‘No, Carlos! Please no! It’s me’ I tried to scream, but the only result was a low vibration that spread throughout the toilet as the tank stopped refilling.
“Oh, fancy Toilet” He said, feeling the slight tremors caused by Marcus’ but dismissing them as a neat function. After all, how was he supposed to know his best friend had been transformed into the very Toilet he was about to use?
He settled down, his weight uncaringly pressing on Marcus transformed body, who felt the strain of having to support his fellow friend.
It was a very short time before Carlos first started, a yellow stream of hot concentrated urine hitting the bowl and assaulting Marcus tastebuds. But of all that was about to happen, that was the least of Marcus worries.
Soon, the tight anus of the football player parted to reveal a thick log, heavy from all that fiber and meat. It coiled into his bowl-mouth, soft yet firm, the earthy, pungent smell overwhelming my enhanced nose. An overwhelming nausea overwhelmed me as Carlos scrolled on his phone without a care in the world.
‘Carlos, no, please stop!’ I pleaded desperately, but my protests seemed to only serve to further stimulate my friend’s guts thank to the vibrations the provided. A spluttering fart echoed in my bowl as he released another load of his waste.
I wanted to scream, but only a muffled splash sounded as his shit hit the water. The taste was vile, it was bitter and mushy, filling me with his waste. He pushed out more, a massive load that smeared my sides, chunks breaking off. But ultimately, he finished.
He sighed in relief, “oh nice” he said clicking a button on the side of the toilet “This thing has a bidet feature”. He clicked and the bidet activated, water splashing out and cleaning his ass while I felt as if I myself was sticking out my tongue for him to clean up.
Then the lever yanked again, that electric sensitivity making me "swallow" it all, the swirl pulling his shit down my throat in humiliating waves. Oh god, no. Then it hit me, a sensation akin to diarrhea. I no longer had a stomach, so every time someone took a shit in me and flushed it down, it was as if a meal went straight through me, eating and shitting it down at the same time.
Unfortunately for me, that wasn’t the end of my torture, a knock on the bathroom stall along with a voice asking “Almost ready?” Sounded just outside, and I felt like crying as Carlos answered “Yeah, just finished”.
…
Like some joke from hell, as soon as Carlos left, another of my teammates made his way in.
It was Lucas, our running back, clutching his stomach as he burst in post-practice. The freshman had joined the team recently and had been training with us for a while.
As he entered the stall I could feel the muttering of curses as he rushedly plopped down on my seat, clutching his knees and groaning as the diarrhea hit me without warning like burning havoc as the deluge of burning shit continued. It enveloped the totality of Marcus mouth, overwhelming his tastebuds as it mixed with the water in his bowl.
As Lucas continued to strain with a grunt, Hot, burning liquid blasts from his churning stomach, spayed into my bowl and stuck to it with acidic fury as his ass spluttered without end. The smell was sharp and sour, like spoiled protein, flecked with undigested bits that stung on contact, and as they remained stuck to my bowl, it felt as if I had then stuck between my teeth.
Again I tried to scream from the havoc, but the vibrations passed practically unnoticed by the distressed player.
Finally, he had to stop as wiped sloppily, throwing the wipes into the bowl, muttering something about disliking bidets and having water in his ass, and flushed without looking, and sauntered out. The lever's pull amplified the agony, gulping down his fiery load while the taste burned on.
..
Time passed in a blur of milder uses after that. Teammates trickled in, Jamal's steady urine, Tyler's foamy one, none as overwhelming as Carlos's mass or Lucas's inferno. A few random folks, maybe staff or visitors, added casual dumps that I processed without the same intensity. The assaults blended, each flush a routine degradation, but compared to the ordeal of the first two, they felt manageable. Maybe I can adjust to this, I thought desperately, my arrogance cracking as the day wore on.
It was like that that the first day ended, my mind finally finding rest.
..
It was early morning, and I could feel movement going around as people trickled in to train at the adjacent gym on the building. I resigned to my fate, making the resolution to maintain myself with the smallest degree of dignity I could.
But that resolution shattered when the door banged open hard. Elijah strode in, the tall, black-skinned beast of our defensive line, and he was jokingly nicknamed the "Toilet Destroyer" for a reason. At 6'5" and built like a brickwall, it wasn’t rare for him to leave an unflushable monster behind in some poor toilet, only for some unfortunate fellow to find it.
As soon as I saw him, dread coiled deep in my gut. All those jokes and comments are funny when you’re blabbering around with the team, but he had never considered being on the Toilet side of the equation.
He dropped his gear, planting his muscular ass over me with a grunt. "Ah shit," he rumbled, bearing down. “That protein powder didn’t settle good with the morning weights”
What came was enormous. His asshole parted as Elijah grunted and struggled above me, bearing down on me as a single dense, endless log, wider and heavier than anything before, packing my bowl tight from the start. Layer after layer coiled in, the smell choking me with the rich putrid aroma overpowering from his muscle building diet. He coated my senses directly, the taste bitter and suffocating as it filled my bowl-mouth beyond capacity.
Elijah struggled, grunting deeply, "Ugh, come on... FUCK!" His ass flexed, pushing harder, wet straining sounds filling the stall, his farts rumbling low, splatters as chunks fought free. Elijah was in pain from his own bowels, and he didn’t even notice how the toilet trembled slightly under him, Marcus silent scream going again unheard.
"Fuck, almost... you bastard," the creak of his weight and heavy breaths turning my direct torment into amplified hell. As soon as he finished, he clicked on the bidet feature, the idea that the fresh water might bring some relief to his abused ass, as Marcus was forced to clean his abuser.
Then, he wiped to dry himself and carelessly —like one usually does when with a toilet— he yanked the lever. As soon as he did that and the suction could be felt Marcus knew it wouldn’t flush, and his fears became true as chocked on the ginormous pile of shit unable to pass it down.
"Flush, damn you!", but it backed up, shit smearing as water sloshed uselessly. Elijah plunged futilely, grumbling through the struggle, "Fucking hell, the coach told this toilet might not clog but fucking god Damon. The toilet destroyer wins again... I’m never getting rid of that stupid nickname, what a piece of shit." He kicked me and commented as he left me clogged, drowning in his enormous load.
…
The clog was a nightmare I couldn't wake from. Elijah's dump sat heavy in my bowl, a thick, unyielding mass that refused to budge. Water levels rose, murky with flecks of his shit, lapping at my porcelain edges like a filthy tide. Every breath—if I could call it that—was saturated with the rank, fermented stench of his waste: earthy, almost meaty from his high-protein regimen, mixed with the sharp bite of backed-up piss from earlier users. My senses, cursed to be hyper-aware, picked up every detail. From the way the log's surface bubbled slightly, the heat still radiating from it against my cool ceramic skin.
I gurgled helplessly, my tank trying to cycle water in futile loops, but nothing flushed. Elijah, you asshole, I thought, rage mixing with revulsion. The "Toilet Destroyer" had lived up to his name, leaving me as a stinking, plugged fixture. The stall door stayed shut, but I could hear the locker room thinning out with the guys heading home after practice. Still, the humiliation burned. I was the team's star, reduced to this: a toilet overflowing with one man's shit, waiting for someone to notice.
Thankfully or not, soon someone opened the door to find the clogged fixture inside.
It didn't take long for someone else to come. The outer bathroom door swung open, heavy footsteps echoing on the tile. The janitor, Mr. Ruiz, the old guy who cleaned up our messes every night. The stall door rattled as he yanked it open.
"Jesus, what a mess," he grumbled. Up close, I saw his weathered face with stubble graying at the edges and a work shirt stained from years of this crap. He didn't know I was in here, of course. I was just another toilet to fix. He set down his bucket, pulled on rubber gloves, and grabbed the plunger from his cart. The rubber head, slimy from past jobs, hovered over me.
The first plunge was torture. He slammed it down onto the mess, the suction pulling at my sensitive rim like fingers gripping too tight. A vibration shot through my entire form, amplifying the taste of Elijah's load as it smeared and shifted. Bits broke off, swirling in the water, forcing me to "feel" the mushy texture against every inch. Stop, please, stop! But only a wet slosh escaped. He was just doing his job, oblivious, but to me, it was pure humiliation to have a stranger's hands working my "body" as if I was plumbing.
After what felt like forever, ten minutes of plunging that left me vibrating and raw he finally got it moving. One last hard push, and the mass slurped down, the flush kicking in automatically. I swallowed it all in a rush, the torrent sliding down my throat in one humiliating gulp, the taste lingering like a bad aftertaste that wouldn't fade. He then grabbed some cleaning products and pushed inside my mouth a filthy looking brush which he rubbed all around, Ruiz wiped his brow, flushed me once more for good measure, and left the stall door ajar. He called out to no one, grabbing his cart and shuffling away.
A pirate recruit gets involved in a twisted a debasing initiation ritual, and having to serve in the lowliest of ways. (Read the tags)
It was soon in the morning and David found himself as part of a pirate crew. As he mopped the floors of the swinging ship in which he was.
Without counting himself and the other recruits there were around 34 other men on this ship. He was the newest recruit, but not the only one.
He was tired.
As he passed around the deck of the ship, cleaning the aftermath of what happens when a group of men live in a closed area, just exacerbated by the lack of hygiene expected of a pirate crew, the hard labor, and the inherent mustiness of the sea. The clean water was valuable out in the sea, and most wouldn’t waste it in “cleaning” themselves.
Not that most seem to think of that as important. A point each one of his partners made when passing near him, the smell of days or even weeks old of sweat, pee and alcohol assaulting him.
Seriously, what is the point of preserving water if most drink themselves to a stupor every day? Alcohol flows literally more than water here. As evidenced by the unidentified stain he was trying to scrub. Possibly vomit or pee.
It was intense, but that’s what that living off alcohol, rations and seafood makes to one. At least he wasn’t cleaning the head of the ship (Poor Johnny) where the shitters are - And seriously it seems everyone’s got bad aiming - or worse, the captain’s “chambers”.
Usually the captain would impose some rules about drinking, but it was still the end of winter season which meant the sea was not only at its calmest, but also that trade and piracy was at its slowest.
Fortunately we were a very successful case of piracy.
As he continued to scrub, one of his crewmates called to him.
“Hey Scallywag! How ye doin’ ?” Jeff said, of course it was Jeff. I could sniff him a mile away.
Jeff was first mate, and It was his playful competence what made him both unpredictable and reliable, a real character. the fact he had a close relationship with the captain helped him too.
“Stop calling me Scallywag!” I yelled with irritation. Jeff was an asshole, not a bad asshole, but he always seemed to get a thrill out of molesting the recruits like me. “I have already been here for at least 3 months working my ass off and I have shown my worth! I am as part of this crew as anybody else “
“ Not ye~t” he sang, and for a moment a mischievous sadistic light took over his eyes. It was gone the next moment “ But tonight will be a party for you all scallywags to become REALLY part of the crew! a real initiation! and the captain told us you all shall go to rest now, HA! You will need it! “
“ Wait, so you’re telling me I should go to rest for the day? Heck yeah.”
“ Yeah, you should REALLY get some shuteye, clean up and MAYBE have a meal, the night will be WILD, the rest of your comrades are already being notified” He smirked.
“ Shall do then, thanks Jeff! “ I said, My mind raced at expecting some intense rituals but wasn’t that scared. And Jeff was being useful for once.
“ And don’t come upstairs until you are called!” He laughed.
I walked to the quarters under the deck, the eyes of a few crewmates darting to me as I did, smiling. Strange.
——
I saluted my crew on the quarters. A group of men around the early twenties.
There was Jhonatan or “Johnny”. And Charles, who was a real pain.
There were others, but he didn’t find them here yet.
We all have had done the same chores on rotation in addition to our “learning “ and had become sort-of close.
I saluted them, and then went to prepare, deciding to follow the suggestions Jeff gave me. Washing myself with a cloth and eating a little before going to rest.
The Quarters were in a mess and smelled funny as always, but I managed to zone out and get some shuteye.
——
Jeff barged into the quarters startling us all “Welp whelps it’s showtime! Come fast and let’s start this thing!” He screamed loudly and I heard muffled screams outside.
The party had started, a pirate crew isn’t exactly silent and as we walked into the main deck area that everyone starting making noise as they made a walkway to the center.
Whistles and screams filled the air, and then I and the rest of the “newbies” reached the center.
There was the captain. He was a hulking form of a man, tanned skin with wild hair and an untamed beard, bulging with muscles covered in fat, like a bodybuilder in bulk.
He looked at us, smirked, and then raised his voice.
“ Well hello little runts, you all have done great ‘till now but the moment of truth has come, to really join the crew and become a part of us! “
The pirates laughed loudly. And the captain got near to us, starting to walk around us like a shark.
“We have made many sort of initiations till now, but we have a little tradition around here. Let's call it” More laughs, there was a hilarity we didn’t get to know “And that's you doing something for us! A duty so to speak! To help us solve our problems! But many of us have things we oh so much would like to make you do, so we came up with a method to make ourselves happier”
The captain passed near me, closing in. I gulped, and fixed my stand and he exhaled a booming laugh; his breath was foul of alcohol and seafood and I had to hold myself from making a face.
“ So since you are more than usual, I decided to be generous and let the crew enjoy the right to some of you and vote about suggestions. Which Me and Jeff reviewed and wrote down on the papers in this hat.” One of the pirates handed the captain a hat with a few small pieces of paper inside. “In this hat lies your fate for the next week after which you will officially be a part of us! Real SeaMen!”
“Woohoo!”
“Yeah! “
“Heheheh”
“hahahah!”
Booming noise and cheering exploded around us and the captain let it simmer for a moment.
“So without keeping everyone’s balls blue anymore. Let’s start!“ he made a signal for us to come.
One by one we passed, each getting one paper out of the hat.
After we finished, the captain made us a sign and we opened them all at the same time.
My Paper read “Captain’s Service”.
I stared confused.
“ Ah, I see you are confused about the tasks given. Welp I guess I need to explain it” he laughed “Can the one with the ‘Captain’s service’ duty pass upfront so we can give a demonstration?” He gave us a signal.
I gulped and passed upfront.
As soon as I was next to him, the captain grabbed me in a headlock. So close to his pit, the captain’s smell assaulted me in waves. God, why hasn’t he taken a bath yet! He didn’t seem to care though as he started to bruise my hair with his other hand.
“Oh Lad, I’m going to have so much fun with you soon” He told me. Just as he continued, it seemed like he remembered something, as he stopped and called out “Hey Jeff, pass me the thing! The sooner the better!”
Jeff quickly rushed and passed the captain something; a small blue bottle with a red liquid inside. The captain quickly passed it to me, there was little liquid on it, like a shot.
“You’ll have to drink that lad, you can choose not to but I wouldn’t recommend it”.
I gulped the thing quickly. It tasted bitter and I made a face. The captain smiled.
“Poor guy!”
“No! I wanted that one!”
“Be kind captain! Or not!” Jeff joked.
Booming laughter and noise and many more reactions exploded. And soon the captain started to talk again.
“ You see lads, I found that this winter I have been experiencing some troubles due to the cold temperatures. I can’t shit without freezing my ass, not to think about my poor willie!” He moved his hips suggestively.
“So I came up with a solution, why freeze my underparts when there’s a perfectly good and warm toilet right here that I can use? And perfectly adjusted to human comfort too” He squeezed me harder.
Oh gahd. He was not suggesting… I felt a pit in my stomach as reality dawned on me. I couldn’t even hear the ruckus building on the back.
It must have reflected in my face, because the captain instantly turned to me with a wide grin. He released me from the headlock and manhandled me with both arms, his grip strong as iron as I was forced to look him in the eyes.
“So what do you say lad, the easy way or the hard way? I’m up for both and I don’t think you want the plank after so much time here, am I right?”
I shook my head.
“ Then kneel lad, I’m pissing myself and up for a demonstration” He laughed as he pushed my shoulders down, my knees giving up before I could caught myself. I stared up at him; he was grinning.
At waist eye level, I found watching the captain untying his belt. Slowly, ever so slowly - As if giving an expectable - humiliatingly I waited and as he finally pulled his pants just below the balls I stared at a humongous example of a cock. It was long, It was wide, it was hairy and it had a pungent smell of sweat and pee and cum.
It twitched.
“What are you waiting lad? Go down on it! I’m freezing!” He swinged his hips, dickslapping me in the face hard enough to leave my cheek tingling. A red mark surely on my face. “Lad, if you don’t go down on it by the time of three I will show you the hard way”
“One”
“Down on it! Down on it! Down on it!” The crew cheered
“Two” I stared at it, the warm smell hitting me in the face.
“Just do it David! You don’t want the Captain mad!”
“Down on it! Down on it!”
“Thre-“
Before he finished the sentence I was already opening my mouth, taking the monster inside of me - I felt it in slow motion - descending upon the captain’s cock as I opened my mouth and took it as deep as I could in a single motion.
“ Ahh~, good job, that sure hits a spot. But you can do better” He pushed my head down on him, as his still soft cock went down my throat and my nose buried under his hairy pelvis. I inhaled through my nose, his stench filling me inside and I swear I could taste it as he squeezed my hair “Good good”
“But still not what I want from you lad, I want you to open your mouth more and put my balls IN” he said, squeezing my jaw. I opened my mouth more and tried to get them in, but all I could achieve forcing myself to the limit was to get my tongue out.
I whimpered.
“Oh well, that’ll have to do. Keep your tongue out as much as you can so my balls can have a blanket okay? We’ll solve this problem soon enough”. I did as I was told. I had a big tongue and so after I got most of it out I unfortunately by luck managed to cover most of his musty balls.
“Finally” He said, he took a swig of a bottle someone had passed to him as if to remind me of my destiny, he then squared his footing, opening his legs and yanking me with his movement. He then took my hair pushing me in as he thrusted.
“Ah- Aaaah~” He sighed in relief. “This was a great idea”
A hot liquid started to flow in my mouth and throat, burning me. It was bitter and hot, as expected from someone who drank regularly, and its smell filled my nose and mouth; my breath was going to suffer. His dick started swelling, both from the pee and from the pleasure he clearly was enjoying by debasing me.
It was a long and generous piss, one of those which even the person peeing doesn’t know when it’s gonna end. Eventually it ended, but even as it did he didn’t just pull it out - no - he waited, getting comfortable and enjoying the feeling of my warm mouth around his dick on a winter night, as if I was just a tool meant to heat his cock.
“Suck the rest” he commanded, and soon I reluctantly sucked the remaining urine out of his urethra and chugged the last droplets of pee from his cock. “Convenient” he said and smiled at his own joke.
He finally got out, slapping me in the cheek two times with his dick as if to clean himself on me, again.
“You go lad! It wasn’t so hard was it?” He said as he raised his pants. The crowd cheered.
“ Are you crazy? And I have to do that for a week?!” I screamed, and as soon as it escaped my mouth I knew of my error. I went pale and inclined my head hoping for forgiveness.
It was silent for a single moment as I looked up.
He met my eyes and smiled, a sadist grin that promised nothing good.
“I was hoping you would ask” I gulped, the taste of the aftermath still in my mouth.
“No lad, you don’t have to do just that” He turned to the crew, his voice booming as he asked “Tell me boys, what else does a man do on the toilet?”
The crew responded. Cheering laughter, pity and thrill filling the crowd.
“Well it’s called shitter and not pisser for a reason Cap!”
“Well of course, shit!”
“Releasing the beast captain!”
“Takin’ a big ol’ crap of course”
Variants of this answer sounded all around, as his crew seemed to seal his destiny he couldn’t help but feel a pit deep into his stomach, already expecting what’s to come.
“Well you heard them didn’t you? I’ve been holding back for a while but since you seem so eager to do a full demonstration of your duties then that makes it all the easier!”
The pit in my stomach deepened. I whimpered quietly, no more than a squeak; that seemed to encourage him, as his smile widened and his eyes burned in a cruel light.
“You’re in for a ride lad, I haven’t been able to take a crap in days with this cold” He paused, and the pirates laughed, finding drunken amusement in the suffering. “Can someone pass us some rags for the boy to lie down?”
Someone rushed down and quickly threw a blanket made of rags, it was dirty - dirtier than usual - with stains and a strong smell of fermented sweat.
“Perfect! Now lie down, take off your shirt and put it behind your head boy, I want direct contact for maximum heat and comfort and I won’t have you getting a pillow dirty” I looked up at him, and at his huge size.
I took off my shirt, and then my pants and the rest of my clothes leaving me only in my stained white underwear. I expected I would need the extra support.
“ That’s the attitude!” The captain said as I laid down. “Now’s my turn”
The captain squatted in front of my face, pulling down the back of his pants to reveal the underwear he was wearing.
“I did you a favor before, but it’s your duty after all so you take it off” I leaned, raising my hands as he slapped them away “With your teeth” he threatened.
Straining myself, practically doing a push up to reach the dirty briefs with my mouth and using my teeth to catch them. As I bit down on them, an acrid taste entered my mouth. I tried to pull them down in one go but to no avail. I went up again, feeling the heat on my face as I tried and failed. His unwashed underwear was between my teeth as his big buttocks impeded the tight briefs from going down and I wondered If he chose them for this exact reason.
I had to get closer, pushing my face against his ass and I felt a slimy substance sticking to my face. ‘Don’t think about it, don’t think about it’. Up and down I rubbed against his ass, changing position to reveal his crack and ass. My nose rubbed against his crack many times as I had to be close to it to find purchase. I was notified with a yank when my job was done.
“ Good good, now lie down and stick out your tongue!” The captain said.
I lied down and soon his newly revealed ass covered my whole vision. It was hairy and I could feel his heat increase as he descended, the smell was intense and I thought I could see rests of shit forming clumps in his asshair. Soon he took seat.
He moved around, humping my face until my tongue was in direct contact with his anus.
“Now lick it, I want to relax” he commanded.
I refused, I couldn’t. The smell was already bad and I couldn’t imagine how bad it would taste.
“I said lick it lad!” He moved across my face, putting more weight into me and pressing me against the floor. “If you think this is bad lad then you don’t know what’s coming, defy me for a single moment and I’ll make sure every one of the marines take a turn on you AFTER I finish”
I made a pathetic sound and I reluctantly stuck my tongue out, and started licking. As soon as I did, a booming fart boomed on my face, burning my tongue and making me lightheaded. I trashed about instinctively but he didn’t budge, his weight pressing me to the floor.
“Bahahaha! That was a good one, but I’m not satisfied with this anymore lad. You should be thankful you were assigned to me. And so to show your eagerness you will stick your tongue in, helping me directly to loose up my insides so I can take a good shit, and don’t even think about sticking it out for any reason unless I say so”
I cried a little as I stuck my tongue into his asshole, the taste was horrid and the smell was already ínstense from shit and sweat.
“Ahh that feels good lad, now I can finally focus on my business. How hard was it to behave as a good ass heater eh? Now maintain those lips sealed good” He laughed, joined by the rest of the pirates.
Soon the onslaught began.
I felt his ass tighten against my tongue and the loosen as the first fart came. It filled my cheeks and came out of my nose as I tasted the smell of something that must’ve been building for a while.
He wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t crapped in a while.
“THPPTPHTPHPHHPH”
“Prrrprrt”
“Frrt”
It continued, hot farts vibrating against my tongue and burning my mouth.
“Pfft” the putrid smell of the silent fart filled me, and I was filled with nausea - but even then the gagging didn’t come - soon something touched my tongue.
“Ungh “ the Captain grunted, “Pull your tongue out, and put it underneath my hole as a bridge lad, I know you have those lips sealed but I can feel this is a big one and I don’t want any mess” he said struggling.
Soon enough my tongue was placed under his convulsing asshole.
“Ungh, ghg. Grrngh.” I felt his weight descend on my head, pressing my face as his cheeks expanded and contracted with effort. “ Prepare yourself lad! I can’t stop now!”
I Inhaled deeply, the putrid air filling me, and with a last fart as warning as he pushed and a giant turd monster came out.
The captain grunted.
It was huge, and after a short moment it was already filling my mouth as my lips stretched to try and fit it in. It slipped through my tongue and directly into my throat, a taste bitter and putrid like no other filling me.
It was acrid and salty, and nausea filled me again as it filled me; and it did. There was no place in my mouth empty as the slimy yet firm turd slided down me. It was as if I was nothing but a pipe for the thing to pass through.
I thrashed about my legs, twitching as it filled my throat and I found my hands finding purchase on the captain’s gigantic legs as I panicked.
“Ggh, It’s a giant! I’m sorry son It seems my genius surpassed me! I planned to give you some time to chew but this is a monster! You’ll have to take it in one go! I’ll try to make it fast but *pffft* Ungh, this will be a hard one!” He pushed, his glutes every movement pressuring against my head.
The log continued to come, sliding down my tongue and into my throat, scraping against my mouth. It was the kind of shit that clogged a toilet and now I was on the lowest end of the deal.
“Ungh, fuck” the captain cursed, he leaned down, grabbed my arms and pulled. Hard. “Ugh!”
“Mmh! Mmm!” I tried to make a sound but found myself choked. He pulled harder, as if he was trying to close the distance between my mouth and whatever he had inside of him.
“Pfft” “Prppt” farts inflated my cheeks and more shit came out.
“Argh! The captain pulled my arms. Using me as a support point so he could push harder his log into my mouth.
My arms hurt, my mouth hurt, and my throat ached. It was the most grueling humiliating experience I’ve ever had.
I was lightheaded. Time had passed and I didn’t know how I had survived so much without air as the giant shit I struggled to swallow continued almost descending on its own.
But with a final tug on my arms I thought would pull them out of their sockets. The other end of the turd came.
“Arrgh!”
“PRpptpt” A fart and a small amount of runny shit entered my mouth.
“ Haa Haa haa… that was hard” Panting above me, the captain’s grip relaxed, seemingly relieved. He leaned back crushing my head as if forgetting I was there. Then seemingly remembering me he spoke “Oh, chew that for now, I’ll stay here”
I chewed and swallowed, now truly tasting the awful shit I had just been subjected to but wanting nothing more than to finally end the ordeal.
“That had to be one of the biggest I’ve had, shame I can’t really see it” he rambled.
As I finished, the Captain spoke to me once more.
“Lick me clean boy” he said tired. I did as I was told, the surface of my tongue felt every single hair and clump as I did, the lump of muscle palpitating. “Ohh, that feels good boy, you can’t imagine how hard that was.”
For real? He makes me pass through all that and the first thing he thinks is about how much he suffered?!
He stopped, thinking “Once you finish, continue massaging my anus, it really aches after that whole ordeal, you get me right?”
“Mmmm!” I cried, trying to protest.
“Great! your face is comfortably warm lad and I really have to catch my breath and relax after that”
his stomach grumbled
“Prrpttpt” a wet fart assaulted me, my face bouncing but I fought through it and continued cleaning.
“Don’t forget to stick it in boy” I inserted my tongue to clean his hole from the inside. His intestines pulsing.
Minutes passed, and after a time that seemed to extend without end and a few more silent farts the captain finally stood up.
Pulling up his pants he stared at me. My face was hot and red, humid from sweat that wasn’t just mine. I reeked.
“Stand up and go to my quarters and rest boy, this was a great demonstration of your duties. But there are still 6 days left and I want you available at all times, I’ll finish giving the others their tasks for now”
I slowly stood up, and the captain clapped my back.
The crew cheered. They laughed and thrashed about.
A story loosely set on the Wasteless universe of @writinggross. Where Human toilets are commonly accepted. This is supposed to be set a little early on, when they were more a privilege.
….
In this world, the competition for a decent Job that could keep you afloat and away from falling in debt was even more harsh than on earth. This led to many employees to accept otherwise crazy conditions in their jobs.
There was a certain Elite X Company who installed a system to encourage their salesmen to put in the extra effort in their job.
The company paid a base salary plus the percentage every salesman earned with their own efforts. An unbelievably favorable deal for anyone in this world and age. However, in order to guarantee their utmost performance the “Sales Rewards and Service Program” was installed.
The sales reward program rewarded the best sellers with benefits, bonuses and other privileges while also “encouraging” those that fell behind.
This encouragement came in various ways depending on how you ranked, but the most notable one was the ‘Service Learning Program’ where the lowest sellers were temporarily given as assistants to the best ones as an additional reward for their performance. The serving seller then would use the opportunity to learn from his better, and thus be encouraged to do better.
But while they’re said to be assistants in a learning opportunity, the truth is these were more like punishments and treated almost as common servants or slaves, and were often asked by their colleagues to do humiliating tasks such as massaging their feet or serving as footstalls. They were even sometimes asked to serve as fart filters or urinals, depending on who they were assigned to.
However, only the worst seller actually had to be an actual Toilet Slave for the best seller.
The unlucky loser this time had been Charles, while the winner was a transfer from another branch of the company, Tristan.
…
He had just gotten to the company when Tristan called him. “The Boss said you’re gonna be shadowing me from now on, he also said that until the week is over you’re in charge of all my eh… ‘Hygienic necessities and comfort’, which ‘includes but is not limited to all of the users emissions’ ” He read from a document in his hand.
“It also says that I shouldn’t use the company’s installations since you’re my assigned ‘Waste Management Utility’ ” He huffed. “So, I guess you’re gonna be my Toilet and Fart Sniffer for the rest of week and I wanted us to get acquainted before that happens, but I’m really about to piss myself y’know? Mind if I take a leak real quick?” Charlie very much did mind, but he resignedly let Jonas lead him into the Toilets and made him knelt next to the urinals.
Charles’ stomach twisted as he knelt on the cold tile floor next to the urinals, the humiliation already burning his skin. Jhonnas stood towering over him, his dick and balls centimeters from his face as he felt the heat and smell radiating from them.
"Please," Charles whispered, voice cracking. "There’s gotta be another way”
"You signed the contract, Just like the rest of us, it’s as much my duty to use you as is your duty to be used by me, and I like this job." He tapped Charles' cheek with the tip of his flaccid dick.
Charles knelt, lips trembling and gut twisting in dread and anticipation. He knew there was no escape unless he resigned. But then, his career would be over. Even if he could somehow find another job, it wouldn’t be as well paid as this one, and it’d probably had similarly bad conditions.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t reluctant.
Tristan sighed, seemingly irked by the situation.
“Look man, you lost and now you're under my ass for a week, just cooperate and this will go over much more smoothly”. He said. "Now please open up. I’ve been holding it since the morning meeting when the boss told me you’d be my toilet and I couldn’t use the urinals."
The groan that escaped Charles was raw, guttural. His hands clenched uselessly at his sides as he tilted his head back, mouth forced wide. The first hot, sour stream hit his tongue before he was ready, making him gag, urine dripping down his chin. He could feel it.
“Damn” he heard someone at the next urinal say. Tristan sighed above him, shifting his stance.
"Don’t let it drip man, you’re going to smell and you’re staining the floor. Plus I don’t want my shoes to smell like urine. Here, I’ll help you" He took a step in and his cock was now fully in his mouth.
“Close your lips around it so it doesn’t drip out, just think about it like a straw or something” He heard.
Of course, it was easy for him to say that, he didn’t have a dick peeing in his mouth. Still, Charles obeyed, and the bitter salt flooding his senses was overwhelming as his cheeks swelled with the taste of urine and he forgot to swallow, some of the yellow liquid streaming down his chin.
He could now feel Tristan’s slight irritation, so with great effort he managed to push the warm liquid down his throat in a few big gulps.
“You see? It wasn’t that bad” Tristan said, as he shook his dick in front of his face to get rid of the drops clinging to him. It seemed to be a reflex to him, as he barely even looked down at him. It had been. It had been that bad. And the worst part? This was just the start.
Charles’ mouth still burned with the acrid aftertaste as Tristan zipped up, leaving him kneeling in the rank puddle of his own shame. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting the tiled bathroom in a sterile glare that only made the humiliation sharper. The sharp scent of ammonia clung to his lips, his tongue swollen and heavy.
…
Now in Tristan’s office, Charles knelt beside his chair, the lingering bitterness in his mouth nothing compared to what came next.
Tristan originally had planned leaving Charles kneeling by the side of his chair, but then he remembered one of his colleagues that had used a Toilet Slave once said to him that when prepping one for his first use, he should first get his acquainted with his ass, weight and his emissions and that he should first use him as a chair beforehand. He planned to get Charles used to it today and maybe tomorrow before using him as a shitter for the first time, as he would need to do so at least once according to the contract.
Tristan had never had the privilege of breaking in a Toilet, so he decided to follow his friend’s advice. He felt a little uncomfortable being bare-assed in the office though. Even if it was technically a private one, he still had crystal walls so he decided not to take off his pants.
"I’m going to be sitting on you during my shift, like a chair, being a fart filter is one of the jobs underlined and it’s better to follow through so the boss doesn’t get mad anyway" Tristan said stiffly–It was partly true, the fart thing, not the chair thing though— lifting his hips and leaning back in his chair. Before Charles could react, a meaty hand clamped around the back of his neck, dragging him forward until his nose pressed against the straining fabric of Jhonnas’ slacks.
The musky heat of his ass radiated through the material, already thick with the promise of what was coming. Tristan didn’t bother unbuttoning his pants—just shifted his weight and sat, his full weight grinding Charles’ face into his clothed cheeks.
"Get acquainted I guess" he murmured, just as his phone rang. The first fart tore through the fabric hot and thick, flooding Charles’ nostrils with the dense, fermented stink of eggs, coffee and rotten meat. He jerked, but Tristan held him firm, his ass heavy enough to smother any escape.
"Mm, yeah, I can pencil you in Thursday," Tristan said into the phone, voice smooth even as his ass clenched, forcing out another gurgling burst directly into Charles’ mouth and nose. He groaned, and Tristan put more of his weight like trying to silence him.
“Hold a second” He said to the phone and put a hand over the microphone, lifting his ass a little to see the man under “Hey Charles, could you be more quiet down there, I don’t want the clients noticing you please? ”
“You try doing it man” Charles said spitefully. He really wasn’t in the mood.
Tristan rolled his eyes, he was still a little sympathetic as he turned back to his call.
The taste seeped past his lips—sour, greasy and heavy— and his throat convulsed. By the third barrage, Charles’ eyes glistened with tears, his breathing reduced to shallow, panicked gasps between each humid wave of Tristan’s digestion.
The man above him chuckled, unbeknownst if it was because of something in the call or because he was enjoying himself. When the call ended, Tristan finally stood up, leaving Charles swaying on his knees, his face slick with sweat and the lingering reek of gut fumes.
"Lunchtime," Tristan announced, standing up and stretching. "Don’t eat anything. The instructions said you should limit yourself to ‘consuming only what the user provides during office hours’ and about you not being allowed to use the cafeteria facilities" He paused, looking down at Charles’ ashen face.
…
Tristan ate carelessly and plentifully, seemingly not caring about the fate of his now Toilet. He could hold it until he got home, probably. Either way, he was entitled to a bigger and nicer bonus thanks to his achievements and he planned on taking advantage of it.
There was nothing refined about the way Tristan worked through his meal, carving through the thick meat in relentless bites.
Charles watched, jaw tight, as butter dripped from a smashed-open baked potato onto Tristan’s plate, only to be scooped up and folded into the next forkful along with some meat. Coke fizzed as he took deep, satisfied gulps between mouthfuls, his free hand already reaching for another buttered roll.
"Damn, that’s good," Tristan muttered, wiping his mouth with his napkin before diving back in. His stomach rounded slightly under his shirt, fabric straining just enough to hint at the pressure building inside.
By the time the plate was clean with steak fat smeared across it, crumbs of bread and flecks of potato clinging to the edges. Tristan leaned back with a low groan.
He patted his stomach, fingers pressing into swollen belly. "Fuck, I’m bursting,"
Charles' knuckles went white under the table.
Before going back to the office, Tristan took Charles to the bathroom to take a leak again. Charles was admittedly relieved, as he thought maybe he would escape his fate for one day. Maybe Tristan’s gut schedule meant he didn’t shit in the office. Maybe he would only be an urinal, and that was okay by him at this point.
Then in the office, Tristan worked some more. Of course, sitting on Charles face as he typed in his computer and occasionally talked to some clients. Progressively though, the farts came more often, stealing Charles of the few fresh air and replacing it with hot bursts of sewage like fumes as the food Tristan just ingested traveled through his digestive system.
At least, until the dread time came, and shattered his hopes.
*Schlrrrppp!* A particularly wet and nasty fart made Charles choke as Tristan suddenly stood up from his chair.
“Hey man, I really gotta use the Toilet now”
“You mean, like, you have to pee?” Charles asked hopefully, already dreading the answer.
“No man, like, I really gotta take a shit now” Tristan said plainly “Come on man, I really cannot wait any more,” he said more urgently as he strutted towards the private toilet in his office.
Reluctantly Charles followed him to the Toilet room. Where Tristan was already waiting.
"Come on, I’m really bursting and cannot wait more" he grunted. “Lie down already”.
Charles did so with great reluctance, lying down on the cold floor as his face aligned with the squat toilet on the bathroom floor.
Tristan unbuttoned his slack and undo his belt, and the sound was nearly drowned out by the thick, bubbling growl of his gut.
"Here we go," Tristan sighed, squatting and easing himself down as he pushed his pants down and placed his weight on Charles face, trying to align his asshole with his mouth as he did so.
Charles opened his mouth, and soon he had a pulsing hairy asshole comfortably between his lips.
*Pbtbtbtbtb!*
The first blast was rancid and hot of half-digested steak and garlic, a hot, gassy punch that flooded Charles’ mouth before he could even gag. He choked, shoulders jerking, but Tristan just braced his hands on his knees and pushed, letting loose a shuddering stream of thick, sour air.
"ahhh" Tristan sighed, shifting his weight to squeeze out another wet, gurgling sputter.
Charles’ eyes watered, his throat burning with bile and humiliation, but Tristan wasn’t done.
Tristan shifted, letting his slacks sag further down his hips—not for humiliation, not for cruelty, but because he was comfortable. Why shouldn’t he be? This was just a function, natural as breathing. He had been feeling a little guilty up until now, of having to use his coworker as a mere toilet, but at this critical moment where he needed relief he finally had come to terms with it.
Charles was a human being, yes. But right now, he was only his toilet, and he really needed to take a shit. So he would have to treat him like a toilet.
So, with great effort, Tristan grunted as he dumped the contents of his bowels on Charles’s own hot wet orifice. A big solid log sliding out of his arse and into Carles mouth.
He felt Charles buckle under him, retching and moving, but he pinned him down with his weight and held his legs from moving. The effort made Tristan’s gut loosen, and he really wanted to release another load, but he held to not choke Tristan.
He had researched the internet while in his office, and people said that he needed to wait until the Toilet finished chewing before letting another load. But he was impatient. Especially after feeling Charles stilling under him, frozen as if Tristan wasn’t in a rush to continue.
“You have to chew, chew man. Or I guess chew Toilet Charles, otherwise you’ll feel sick of the stomach later. If you cannot chew it down in the next three minutes tops, I’ll continue and I swear I won’t stop just because you’re having another one of your freakouts” Tristan said, urged and irritated. “I swear I’ll push it down straight into your throat and stomach and not stop until I feel relieved” He said, and put a chronometer on his phone.
“Lick my arse when you are ready for the next mouthful”. He said, and let himself be more comfortable by resting more of his weight on his Toilet’s face-seat. Crushing Chalres painfully under his weight. Not like he cared anymore, the man was not cooperating, so he could be treated like a toilet.
Meanwhile, Charles had received a shock. The taste of Tristan’s shit was undescribable, pungent and acrid. Like garlic and onion and fat and rotten meat. It was warm like the man’s own guts, and it felt like a mockery of the food he had eaten. It overwhelmed Charles' senses, as his own body rejected the waste coming out of the other man’s body.
It didn’t care about the logic of his mind, or keeping his job, it was just so awful and degrading it triggered his own survival instincts.
He struggled with no purchase, and finally calmed when his body realized there was no escape.
It was then that Tristan lost his patience, and made his threat. Still struggling, Charles chewed through the monstrous log, releasing even more of the pungent taste and aroma until it felt as if it escaped through his nostrils as he swallowed bit by bit.
When he finally finished, and signaled Tristan by lapping at his ass and touching his cheeks.
“Fucking finally” He said and let his entrails loose.
The next mouthful was not easier than the first, and his body still retched trying to throw up, but he swallowed it with all his will. If there was a small mercy, it was that it wasn’t an as generous amount as the first had been. But the large man was still far from empty.
He did the same with the next dump, establishing into a routine, trying to disassociate. He felt Tristan push, his hole trembled and farted and let loose a fart or two as he pushed his waste onto Charles mouth, he chewed holding down his own retching instincts and swallowed down. Then, he lapped at
By the end Charles was shocked as a more liquid shit spayed with pressure into his mouth, little bits clinging everywhere as the intestinal acids of the Tristan burned his mouth, filling it to the brim with a hellish soup. At the very least, they were easier to swallow, and he swallowed two more before Tristan finally stopped.
Tristan hadn't paid him more attention after his initial outburst, and was staring at his phone. Charles felt he had finished though, but Tristan still grunted and pushed empty air as he made sure he was really empty.
Once he was sure, he told Charles to clean him. Charles obeyed the seemingly mild order after the deluge of horrors he had passed through recently, licking the other man’s ass as clean as he could.
Tristan then finally stood up and pulled up his pants. He looked down at the wrecked image of Charles, red and teary face and tongue stained brown and said “You can take a break, the day is almost over anyway. Go clean yourself, and I expect you tomorrow at my office at 8:00 A.M sharp”.
Before leaving the room he said.
“Don’t eat breakfast, I’ll eat an extra portion for you”. He had enjoyed that more than he thought he would.
(NSFW. This story contains a farting fetish. If you are under 18, stop reading now.)
(**SPECIAL WARNING*** This story contains consensual non-consent (2 very drunk guys having sex). Rest assured, all parties within the story are okay with the events taking place, but if such things offend you, stop reading now.)
(1003 words)
Tristan and Miles stumble back to their dorm room after a wild party at one of the frat houses. They were both quite drunk, but Tristan had drank at least twice as much as Miles did. Miles had to support Tristan as they walked.
“Du..Dude…I love you, man…,” Tristan slurred as Miles caught him from face-planting on the sidewalk.
“Yea, love you too. Help me out a little, huh?”
“N…No, seriously. Yer an…an amazing friend.”
“God you’re wasted,” Miles grumbled.
They struggled their way back to their rooms with minimal incident. Tristan was barely standing by the time they breached the threshold, and Miles had resorted to dragging him all the way inside and into the bathroom. He sat him down on the toilet and took a second to catch his breath and steady himself.
“You got it from here man? I really don’t want to have to strip you.”
“Ya man, I’m good…”
Miles was skeptical, but he wasn’t going to argue. “Alright, just yell if you fall down or something.”
Tristan grinned and drunkenly looked at his friend. “Sure you don’t want to shower with me, bro?”
Miles did want to shower with him, but he was too drunk and tired. Instead he rolled his eyes and called out to him as he left the bathroom, “G’night man. See you in the morning.”
Miles went into his room, fell into his desk chair, and smacked his forehead on his desk. “Ow,” he mumbled into the room. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep or die in that position, but he decided he was just going to let whatever happen, happen. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he heard the shower turn on and other noises he tried really hard to ignore.
A loud thump from the bathroom jolted Miles awake. He noticed the shower was off and he listened for a few more moments to make sure he didn’t need to go check on Tristan. He heard the bathroom door open. Shuffling steps. His door open? Then he heard the springs of his mattress creak and groan and the covers of his bed swish and rustle as if a body had fallen on his bed. The fuck?
Miles pulled his head up and looked at his bed to find Tristan, buck ass naked, laying on it still mostly wet from the shower.
“The fuck you doing?”
“Mmmmnnggff.” Tristan’s words were muffled by the pillow his face had landed in.
Miles sighed and lifted himself up to shuffle over to hear what he had said, trying not to stare at his friend’s ass the whole time.
Tristan turned his head to face Miles. “Fuck me”
“What?!”
“C’mon man. I want dick.”
Miles was still drink, tired, and grumpy from having to deal with his drunk roommate at god knows what time in the morning. But another sound overrode his brain and sent all available blood rushing to his cock.
Ssssssppbpbpbpbpbpltltltltltlttttttt
A gawd awfully loud, and wet, fart erupted from Tristan’s ass. His hole sounded wet and loose, and the smell from his ass wafted over to Miles’s nose. It was like a mating call beckoning for someone to come fill him up. And Miles was happy to answer that call.
Miles pulled himself onto the bed and put his face between Tristan’s legs. He dove right into his ass while spreading his cheeks to expose his still sweaty and musky hole. Apparently, Tristan hadn’t done a very good job in the shower.
Right before Miles could actually get his tongue to Tristan’s hole, another airy and sputtery fart ripped out on his face. The smell of concentrated ass made him pause only for a second while waves of arousal rolled through his body, but his tongue was eager to taste his friend. He finished his dive with his tongue out and plugged Tristan’s hole mid-fart. He sealed his lips around his wet hole, then pulled back his tongue to let the rest of the fart fill his mouth. He swallowed all of it and released it all back out as a belch that echoed in his room.
Tristan wiggled his ass as Miles rimmed him and struggled to get his pants and underwear off. Tristan’s cock had created a puddle of precum that was sticking to his abs.
Miles finally released his own cock and brought it up to Tristan’s hole. No lube required. His cock was dripping with pre and his friends ass was already pretty loose. He slid his cock from Tristan’s balls up to his hole and slid all the way inside easily.
Tristan moaned under him and started sliding his ass up and down his cock. Miles held himself above him and enjoyed his cock being massaged. Tristan grinded his cock against the bed and squeezed his ass and legs around Miles, making him moan in pleasure. They continued this way for several more moments before Miles put his hands on Tristan’s back, using his body weight to pin Tristan down, and started fucking him.
Miles’s hips and balls slapped against Tristan’s ass. Trapped air farted out and tickled his balls every time Miles slammed against his ass and added a hot sensation. Sloppy noises from Tristan’s ass echoed in the room as the boys fucked. As Miles neared climax, he increased the frequency of his thrusts, grabbed Tristan’s shoulders, and shoved his member as deep into him as he shot his load.
Tristan bucked his ass back into Miles as he felt his friend pulse and throb inside him. His cock shot several ropes of cum onto the bed and his abs. Both boys were locked in orgasm for several glorious seconds.
They collapsed at the same time. Tristan lay in his load while Miles fell on top of him. Miles laid on him while he went soft, then, when his cock slipped out, he rolled over onto his back beside Tristan. He fell asleep listening to the soft snores coming from his roommate.
I'm sorry, but are we really that bothered by unwilling story victims now? Are you telling me I'm going to have to start labeling any story with an unwilling victim as "ConSeNsUaL nOnCoNsEnT"? Jesus Christ, I can't the the fucking snowflakes anymore....
(NSFW. This story contains a farting fetish. If you are under 18, stop reading now.)
(**SPECIAL WARNING*** This story contains consensual non-consent (2 very drunk guys having sex). Rest assured, all parties within the story are okay with the events taking place, but if such things offend you, stop reading now.)
(1003 words)
Tristan and Miles stumble back to their dorm room after a wild party at one of the frat houses. They were both quite drunk, but Tristan had drank at least twice as much as Miles did. Miles had to support Tristan as they walked.
“Du..Dude…I love you, man…,” Tristan slurred as Miles caught him from face-planting on the sidewalk.
“Yea, love you too. Help me out a little, huh?”
“N…No, seriously. Yer an…an amazing friend.”
“God you’re wasted,” Miles grumbled.
They struggled their way back to their rooms with minimal incident. Tristan was barely standing by the time they breached the threshold, and Miles had resorted to dragging him all the way inside and into the bathroom. He sat him down on the toilet and took a second to catch his breath and steady himself.
“You got it from here man? I really don’t want to have to strip you.”
“Ya man, I’m good…”
Miles was skeptical, but he wasn’t going to argue. “Alright, just yell if you fall down or something.”
Tristan grinned and drunkenly looked at his friend. “Sure you don’t want to shower with me, bro?”
Miles did want to shower with him, but he was too drunk and tired. Instead he rolled his eyes and called out to him as he left the bathroom, “G’night man. See you in the morning.”
Miles went into his room, fell into his desk chair, and smacked his forehead on his desk. “Ow,” he mumbled into the room. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to sleep or die in that position, but he decided he was just going to let whatever happen, happen. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, he heard the shower turn on and other noises he tried really hard to ignore.
A loud thump from the bathroom jolted Miles awake. He noticed the shower was off and he listened for a few more moments to make sure he didn’t need to go check on Tristan. He heard the bathroom door open. Shuffling steps. His door open? Then he heard the springs of his mattress creak and groan and the covers of his bed swish and rustle as if a body had fallen on his bed. The fuck?
Miles pulled his head up and looked at his bed to find Tristan, buck ass naked, laying on it still mostly wet from the shower.
“The fuck you doing?”
“Mmmmnnggff.” Tristan’s words were muffled by the pillow his face had landed in.
Miles sighed and lifted himself up to shuffle over to hear what he had said, trying not to stare at his friend’s ass the whole time.
Tristan turned his head to face Miles. “Fuck me”
“What?!”
“C’mon man. I want dick.”
Miles was still drink, tired, and grumpy from having to deal with his drunk roommate at god knows what time in the morning. But another sound overrode his brain and sent all available blood rushing to his cock.
Ssssssppbpbpbpbpbpltltltltltlttttttt
A gawd awfully loud, and wet, fart erupted from Tristan’s ass. His hole sounded wet and loose, and the smell from his ass wafted over to Miles’s nose. It was like a mating call beckoning for someone to come fill him up. And Miles was happy to answer that call.
Miles pulled himself onto the bed and put his face between Tristan’s legs. He dove right into his ass while spreading his cheeks to expose his still sweaty and musky hole. Apparently, Tristan hadn’t done a very good job in the shower.
Right before Miles could actually get his tongue to Tristan’s hole, another airy and sputtery fart ripped out on his face. The smell of concentrated ass made him pause only for a second while waves of arousal rolled through his body, but his tongue was eager to taste his friend. He finished his dive with his tongue out and plugged Tristan’s hole mid-fart. He sealed his lips around his wet hole, then pulled back his tongue to let the rest of the fart fill his mouth. He swallowed all of it and released it all back out as a belch that echoed in his room.
Tristan wiggled his ass as Miles rimmed him and struggled to get his pants and underwear off. Tristan’s cock had created a puddle of precum that was sticking to his abs.
Miles finally released his own cock and brought it up to Tristan’s hole. No lube required. His cock was dripping with pre and his friends ass was already pretty loose. He slid his cock from Tristan’s balls up to his hole and slid all the way inside easily.
Tristan moaned under him and started sliding his ass up and down his cock. Miles held himself above him and enjoyed his cock being massaged. Tristan grinded his cock against the bed and squeezed his ass and legs around Miles, making him moan in pleasure. They continued this way for several more moments before Miles put his hands on Tristan’s back, using his body weight to pin Tristan down, and started fucking him.
Miles’s hips and balls slapped against Tristan’s ass. Trapped air farted out and tickled his balls every time Miles slammed against his ass and added a hot sensation. Sloppy noises from Tristan’s ass echoed in the room as the boys fucked. As Miles neared climax, he increased the frequency of his thrusts, grabbed Tristan’s shoulders, and shoved his member as deep into him as he shot his load.
Tristan bucked his ass back into Miles as he felt his friend pulse and throb inside him. His cock shot several ropes of cum onto the bed and his abs. Both boys were locked in orgasm for several glorious seconds.
They collapsed at the same time. Tristan lay in his load while Miles fell on top of him. Miles laid on him while he went soft, then, when his cock slipped out, he rolled over onto his back beside Tristan. He fell asleep listening to the soft snores coming from his roommate.
I'm sorry, but are we really that bothered by unwilling story victims now? Are you telling me I'm going to have to start labeling any story with an unwilling victim as "ConSeNsUaL nOnCoNsEnT"? Jesus Christ, I can't the the fucking snowflakes anymore....
WARNING: This story has ⚠️SCAT KINKS (EFRO, Hyper Scat, Dumpfucked)!⚠️
STOP READING NOW if you’re not into that! You’ve been warned!
Time for more extreme stuff again! This piece is directly inspired by [warning: this link will take you to gross stuff] this awesome piece by MoldyCrumble. If you're into the sort of extreme stuff I make, you should absolutely be following him! Enjoy!
Premise: [EXTREME FETISH CONTENT WARNING] Jackson starts taking weird pills to snag some ladies. Adam watches a side effect unfold, way too hard.
Contains: Scat, Hyper Scat, Dumpfucked
Length: ~1700 Words
- Bluesky (I’m here the most now!) | Patreon | AO3 -
--------
"These pills from the internet are great! My ass got way bigger in just two weeks!"
Jackson beamed with joy standing before Adam. It was hard not to look happy, the way his body looked. The pair of skinny jeans Adam recognized from a few prior meetings stretched absolutely packed to capacity with outrageous amounts of thighs and ass. Jackson looked like he was clocking in his 10,000 steps every hour with the way his thighs bulged, straining the seams of unprepared boypants. Every way Adam’s eyes looked he saw perfect legs bulging out the thing in heavy slabs of leg meat. Hell, even his calves hugged denim, pushing out that lower space to look unsettingly delicious, even to a straight boy like Adam.
That was all without even mentioning his butt. Holy shit, Jackson had an ass! Adam could see Jackson’s belt struggling to even keep things concealed back there, just barely shutting out a cavernous look into an untold amount of bouncy, wobbly, boycheeks. They were utterly mesmerizing to look at, to the point Adam didn’t even realize he was staring, until his friend gave a knowing flex of his cheeks.
Adam yanked his head away, terribly embarrassed he’d gotten this wound up over a man’s body. Jackson gave a smug smile. Fuck these legs ruled!
Jackson’s triumphant pose continued. "The girls will be all over me! You know that ladies can’t resist this sort of ass on a guy, right?"
Adam grabbed the pills out of Jackson’s hand as he bragged. "R-right… Can I see those pills?"
The pill bottle looked modest at first, though Jackson could only make out the English portion wedged between Cyrillic paragraphs and something in Farsi, half expecting this to be some sort of prank tempting Adam with man ass.
As he did, Adam finally noticed the listed side effects.
"Side effects may include: Headaches, Stomach pain, Increased genital sensitivity, Greatly increased volume of bowel movements."
…What?
"Uh, hey, dude?" Adam began. "Hey, have you read the side effects of these?"
"Hmm?" Jackson asked. "Ah, a little. No headaches yet, thankfully."
Adam kept on looking at the bottle with befuddled eyes. He only snapped his attention back to his buddy when, out of his peripheral vision, he suddenly noticed Jackson’s flat stomach taut his shirt a little.
Adam watched. A horrible gurgle rolled out, and the sudden surge of belly returned to that flat state.
GLLrRRRrggrGgGgGRgGGggh….
"Urgh! My stomach… l…"
Adam grew terribly alarmed. "What’s wrong!?"
Jackson looked white in the face. "...It’s happening again! God, it’s going to happen in public this time!?"
As those bubbling roars of a deeply troubled stomach kept stirring in the air, Jackson’s hands hurriedly undid his belt. For a moment he looked terribly panicked, trying to pull his undersized pants over the roaring expanse of powerful ass and man thighs. One nice shove yanked underwear and all down below cheek level, making his meat jiggle as his legs clamped.
A few unlisted side effects to these utterly bizarre pills came to Adam’s attention as Jackson flashed his absolutely monstrous anus. Good lord, it was the size of a drink lid, and flushed full of mass like a donut! More odd feelings stirred in Adam as the sight of his buddy’s outrageous hyper asshole. Why… Why was this getting him so hard looking at such a secret area of another man?
Jackson lowered himself, arching his back, bending at the knee. That look of shock in his face gradually subsided as a dreamy expression of bliss washed in instead. His leg muscles moved slightly, grinding and shimmering, trying to tame some beast inside Jackson. His tight shut anus began to hiss with air…
"A-aaah…"
Prrrbbtlll…
"Dude!" Adam shouted at that loud fart.
"Nnh… S-sorry dude…" Jackson whimpered.
"Hnnh… Hhf… O-oh! It’s… It’s coming…"
Jackson’s massive ass muscles spread. The space between his cheeks rose like a volcano taking shape. Slowly, his gigantic asshole, flush with blood, smooth and sensitive, poked out and started to spread. The rounded tip of a dark brown mass corked the entrance.
Adam should have been revolted, but he couldn’t stop looking on with utter captivation.
"J-Jackson?"
"H-hhhnnn… D-daddy…" He moaned.
Adam panicked. "Dude!?"
Jackson roared! "IT’S SO BIG!~ IT’S COMING OUT AGAIN!~ A-AAAH! I’M GETTING KNOCKED UP BY MY SHITDADDY!~"
PRRLRRT-FLLRP!
In a split second, the fattest shit Adam had ever seen, as thick as his arm, an absurd, ever-growing length, shot out of Jackson’s ass as if it were effortless to expel! A full massive meter of dung, hard and dense and solid, ejaculated out of this wide-stretched donut asshole, cleaving through the air with a sputter of anal lips, crackles, and farts. The heap kept growing, keeping its insane velocity, almost defying gravity as it bent precious little arching from the upturned launching point of Jackson’s ass into the clean park air. Only when the knobby head that had poked at Jackson’s holes moments prior was nearing contact with the grass did the insane mass of boy shit start to fold under its own weight, and bend, and fall down.
Jackson’s eyes slumped heavy, with his mouth agape in delight. The insane pole of waste inside him had enough bulk to act like a pole, and let him feel resistance as his unbroken expelling shit pressed into the park field. The force pushed back inside him, right against his prostate.
"Y-Yes! J-just like that! I-I’ve been so bad…" Jackson groaned. "P-please punish my p-spot for being such an easy dumpslut, shitdaddy!"
The insane pace raced on, as foot after foot of boyshit slopped out of his quivering asshole every second. The sputtering, thudding, orgasmic noises continued as the neverending anaconda of steaming brown piled onto the grass below, coiling upon itself, smoldering right before Jackson’s dear friend.
Adam could only watch, as an elephant’s dump raced out of his pal, standing there stunned and blushing, hard as hell.
Wait, hard?
As embarrassing as it all was, Adam found the sight engorged him a bit too much. An erection tented his jeans. This was all because Jackson’s ass looked all girly, right? There was no way that he was getting erect from the way those heavy nuts hung right below his friend’s juicy pile of mancake. He certainly wasn’t getting erect from the sight of the double XL cowpat uncoiling before his eyes…
Adam wasn’t getting aroused by this for embarrassing reasons, at least that’s what he continued telling himself. Jackson, meanwhile…
"Hooo… OOOoOOohh… Y-you’re destroying my boyspot, daddy…" He whimpered.
The deluge of scat continued piling up, the highest part up to Jackson’s squat knees.
Adam spoke up about his friend’s vocabulary. "D-dude? What are you saying!?"
"I-It’s so good. It’s WAY too good dude! It’s so big, thick, and satisfying. It’s like I’m having the best gay sex j-just from taking my massive manshit!"
Only then did Adam see his friend so direly hard, erect cock freed from Jackson yanking his pants down to shit uninterrupted. It was flushed a brilliant pink, leaking at the edge, and hung beyond all measure.
"J-Jackson, c-calm down. A-aren’t you straight, bro?" Adam asked.
The question put a big, excited smile on Jackson’s face. "I was! I thought I was straight! B-but then…"
Jackson bore down hard. As the fat of his ass wobbled from that deeper arch, the pace of his thrashing mega shit sped up so insanely fast, thrusting pounds upon pounds of matter out of his gaped wide shithole!
"I-I lost to POOP!" He screamed! "I got conquered by POOP! I LOVE SHITTING! I love taking these pills and feeling myself get BRED! I WENT GAY FOR MY OWN FUCKHUGE SHITLOGS!"
Adam’s jeans were wet "J-Jackson!?"
"I love shitting! I love these insane dumps! I love getting FUCKED UP THE ASS BY MY OWN TURDS! I don’t want a girlfriend! I just want to please my shitdaddy! I want to make him fuck me harder! I LOVE IT! I LOVE MY SWEET HUSBAND! I LOVE HAVING ASS SEX WITH MY OWN POOP! I LOVE BEING SHITDADDY’S BREEDSTOCK~!"
The pace raced harder still! Jackson’s legs gave in and buckled!
"Fuuuuck! FUCK! TAKE ME DADDY! I’M GETTING IMPREGNATED BY MY OWN SHIIIIIT~!!"
Jackson’s screams of climax thrashed in the wind, as his terribly erect cock shot with all the power it could muster. Jackson’s ass squeezed his bottom the finest bit more shut from his clenching pelvic floor muscles, giving him the finest thrashing against his prostate yet as he finally lost his semen to boyshit. Fat, heavy shots of his output flung against the outdoors, insane quantities doubtlessly amped up by these ridiculous fucking pills. More strings of his wasted seed flew from his tip at his thunderous assgasm, savoring the unparalleled, dominating touch of his ever-emerging heap of dung. When the last of his strands were done firing, his sweet shitboyfriend took to milking its slut for the last of his output. The rest of his dung fucked what remained of his cum out, dribbling out his towering length down below.
Adam watched, unable to comprehend any of these feelings. All he could do is stare, and feel his body betray him, and stain his jeans with the first of many, many climaxes to do with men and their ungodly dumps.
Finally, after minutes on end of shitting, as Jackson’s orgasmic high finally subsided, the throttle of shit out of his anus ended, and Jackson’s asshole sat empty, gaping wide enough to fit an arm to the elbow.
Panting, smiling, and relieved, Jackson returned to normal in his post coital state. With some effort, he pulled his pants back over his terribly huge cheeks, and looked back to inspect his work.
A full manure bag’s worth of filth sat crackling behind him. It was a quaint size, a little disappointing even, given what he knew he could do.
Jackson kicked off the conversation where it had been before his body interrupted. "So yeah! These pills are great!"
Adam opened the lid to the pill bottle, and took the first step towards being whored out by his shitdaddy himself.
