Scat Exploits: Part Three
I was in my car heading home from the supermarket, grumbling about having had that third cup of coffee before stepping out my door. I had forgotten the effects of caffeine on my bowels: instant pooping. On top of that, I was feeling turned on before leaving and decided to wear just a short dress and no underwear. As I went about buying the groceries, my dress would ride up every time I bent over, exposing my vagina. A stockman in a forklift stared at me from the pasta aisle, but he didn't say anything or try anything. He wasn't my type, so that was that.
But now, I was having to deal with an urgent bowel movement. I wished I could be wearing pants and underwear instead of this dress because if I couldn't hold it in, it would ruin my car seat which is made of cloth. I've done this before, the panty poop thing. Sometimes, I'd do it on purpose just for the joy of it when I'm at the mall parking lot. I wanted to do it again, but I wasn't wearing panties. My options were to race to the toilet or bathe in my own poop, and clearly, the latter was my desire. I could poop in the bathtub, sink, or even on the kitchen table, but the thought of pooping in the kitchen sink was tempting as it was less common and more exciting.
I got out of my car and sprinted up the stairs in my apartment building. In my head, I had three options: Go straight to the toilet, poop in the bathtub, or the sink. I immediately chose the kitchen sink. This would be wild, extra dirty, and intimate. As I reached my apartment, I burst through the door straight into the kitchen, found my plan perfect. I removed my dress, placed it on a nearby chair and climbed up on the counter. I positioned myself diagonally, straddling the sink. After a few pushes, a long, thick log of poop fell into the sink. I was thrilled by the sight. I waited for another one, pushed again, and it fell. One more, and the sink was full. I pulled my log, pushed it with my fingers until they were all covered with my shit. I lifted one and tasted it. It was delicious.
Covered in pure delight, I slid off the counter, still seated. I stood up and took off my sandals before sitting in the middle of the floor, my legs crossed. The smell was strong, rich, and intoxicating. I could smell it for hours. I can't believe I was about to... Cover myself in my shit. I stood up, straddling the sink again, rifling through the drawers for paper towels and hand sanitizer. I was prepared, even going so far as to grab a kitchen towel just in case. When I had everything arranged carefully on the counter, I sat back down and dipped my fingers in the sink. I scooped out my poop and smeared it all over my body, squeezing some pieces of it out. I rubbed my breasts vigorously, got it all over them. I rubbed my legs and arms; it was even spread over my feet. The feeling was inexplicable; I could feel myself being carried away into a world of pure sensual bliss. I carefully reorganized the towels on the counter for easy access, my mind blank. I began to smear myself with my poop from head to toe, I took more scoops at a time, rubbing it forcefully into my skin. That's how it happened, focusing on the utterly depraved feeling of poop all over my body. I brought my fingers to my mouth, licked them clean. I touched it to my neck, rubbing circles around it, occasionally stopping to taste my salty fingers.
My thoughts began to race, dragging my imagination with it. With a fresh location, perhaps I could try a new approach? I scooped up a decent amount from the bowl and instead of smearing it on my chest, my favorite spot for receiving excrement spread, I considered a new starting point. While holding the pile of excrement near my nose, I took a moment to ponder my options. Would I go straight for my pussy, my second favorite spot for smearing feces? What about my face? It was delightful smearing feces all over my face like I was washing with soap, before slipping my fingers in my mouth. What about my limbs, my arms or my legs, coating them like applying sunscreen?
However, as I looked down, I noticed something that would be ideal. With how I sat, they were right below my line of sight. Sometimes in the tub, I'd complete a solo session and discover I had given no thought to them, and they remained untouched. My feet! I decided to start with my feet and entirely cover them in feces. With a wave of the hand, I placed the pile on one ankle and slowly spread it to all corners—the instep and heel, the sole, and finally, the toes. It was fantastically fantastic and when I had fully covered my toes, lifted it up to my lips and began sucking on them. I filled my mouth with the slightly bitter feces and dribbled it on my thighs and my pussy.
My mind was ablaze with erratic thoughts, filled with increasingly extreme mental images of me pampering and pounding (for these are the same, as you well know) my entire body with the feces before me. I began rubbing my foot all over my face. Wanting more, I piled on feces again, smearing it all over my face and tongue. I then inserted my toes, all five at once, into my mouth and sucked them. I repeated this on the other foot. I paused to attract more air and scream towards the ceiling, and then I realized I had trapped myself on the table, now that my feet were covered in feces. I couldn't leave without dragging feces all over the floor wherever I walked. That in itself was appealing, the chaos I would create, unconcerned with the implications. Thwarted by practical interlopers in my depraved fantasy!
Therefore, entrenched on the table, I decided, since I'd be here a while, it was time to immerse myself in the filth, saturating every inch. The bowl was nearby, and I reached in and extracted the largest log, using it to apply between my breasts as if having sex there. Then I grabbed another log, placing it on my vagina. The last log was for use on my face, so I left it in the bowl for later. There was still some leftover, so I placed it on my stomach. Now, it was time to begin.
I began with my vagina, holding the log in one hand and rubbing it all over my neatly trimmed bush and lips before working my way up to my lower belly and around my navel. Many years ago, I tattooed myself a rose about five inches south of my navel, and now it was hidden amidst the feces. Then, I did my thighs before adjusting my position so I could cube my ass. This area was my focus, not wanting a single inch neglected. For many minutes, I lasciviously rubbed my ass, across the cheeks and deep into my crevice. With my eyes mostly closed most of the time, I moaned quietly, reveling in the pleasure. After all this, I discovered the log had shrunk, and I returned to my back.
Next, I picked up the turd on my breasts and spread it on them, stroking them gently with my hands, my skin becoming a rich, dark hue wherever I touched. It had an extraordinary sensation, particularly on my upright, taut breasts, possessing such flexibility.
— END —
In the end, I chose the log I had saved for my mouth, the densest and most compact of my feces, and slid it inside to suck on. Hard logs are usually the ones with the least pungent taste, at least until their fluids are released after being sucked on for a while. When I put it in my mouth, there was hardly any taste to mention, no bitterness or acidity or anything that made me think I was sucking on excrement. Once again, I closed my eyes and reveled in the sensations, indulging myself. After my saliva softened it, I took it out and applied it all over my face. Covering myself, I did several passes through my hair, coating it with feces. At this point, the only part of my body not covered was the center of my back.
"Rita," I thought, "let's really test the limits of your imagination. Turn it on and let it run wild!" With one hand stimulating my vagina, the other massaging my breasts, I closed my eyes and flew off. I envisioned someone bursting through the kitchen door, seeing me like this, insulting me as a filthy scat slut while stripping naked. Once naked, they scooped up handfuls of feces from me to rub on their dick and fucked me in the ass first, then the vagina. But before anything, they crouched down over my face and forced my mouth open so they could shit into it, and then covered my face with their feces, squashing it over me with their ass, which they made me lick clean, especially their anus. I imagined my tongue deeply penetrating their shitting anus.
Well, of course, it was Dr. Cramer doing this to me, and I screamed for them not to stop, "More of you, Dr. Cramer!", wanting more of him. He would then fuck both my shit-filled holes, before shoving his bursting cock into my mouth to fill it with cum and shoot it all over my face, drenching me in his sperm. That's when I shivered on the kitchen table, climaxing, and my fingers brought me to another climax. I lay there afterward, catching my breath, closing my eyes one last time to recall the final image of Dr. Cramer, Philip, collapsing on me and falling into my arms several times, saying "Rita, Rita" repeatedly, "It was amazing!" Of course it was, Philip, Rita knows.
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- Part 14: Julie Attends a Wedding
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- Natural Attraction: Part 1
- Spellbound Panties
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