This is a story involving scat play between adult males. All characters are eighteen years old or over. If this isn't your sort of thing or it is illegal for you to view it wherever you are, please leave now. This story is entirely fictitious, and any resemblance to actual individuals is coincidental.
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Kinky Love Under Lockdown
Chapter Four
For all that Ed had got very into shitting himself and the sessions we had together in our full pants were tremendously horny, I still loved just watching him on the toilet, and as often as not I'd sit with him whilst he had his daily shit. Sometimes we used to chat, but on other mornings he'd act as if I wasn't there; as if I was spying on his most private moment. I used to get hard as he stood in front of the toilet unbuckling his belt, with his skinny jeans showing off his sturdy thighs and pert arse. He'd pull them down, bending to push them down past his knees and down around his calves, and then his boxer shorts to follow them so that he was naked from the waist down. I'd get even more excited as he sat down, and his T-shirt rode up from his perfect bare bottom. Then he'd sit for a minute or so, sometimes even longer, before his buttocks started to heave and he perhaps let out a soft little fart or two. Finally his head would go down slightly, like it always did when he was having a shit on the toilet, and the soft slimy crackle would emanate from where his solid brown column was growing down from him.
'Crackle ... hiss ... plop, plop ... fart ... grunt ... plomp.'
The sound of him dropping his turds used to drive me crazy, and then I'd get the smell. The door and window were always shut, and even on the days when his shit was firm and pretty dry and his smell was faint it still made me edge. When he was done he used to stand up and shuffle forwards and let me lean in and look at his turds before one of us wiped him. Often I did it, but I loved watching him do it himself. No matter how cool and cocky a lad is, he looks silly when he's wiping his bottom, and no-one looked more cutely undignified than Ed. He did it standing up, leaning forwards with his legs bent and his bottom sticking will out, wiping slowly and deliberately at first, and then when he was pretty much finished and the paper came away with the faintest of stains he used to stick his bottom out further and finish off with a few quick rubs to get his bumhole as clean as he liked it to be.
Afterwards we wanked together, in the living room or in bed, or still in the bathroom where his smell was fresh and erotic. Watching him go to the toilet turned me on like nothing else, and it touched off other kinky fantasies I'd often had and only once acted out. I'd always had a deep desire to be a guy's toilet; to be squatted over and shat on, completely degraded but at the same time honoured as a man gives me the thing I want the most. I'd had a wank to the vision of Ed squatting over my face a few days after I'd first met him, but now I started to crave it, and I wondered what he'd say if I told him so.
In the event it happened quickly. Every so often I used to find I needed a shit when I smoked weed, and that was what happened one evening when Ed and I had a joint together. He came with me to the bathroom, sat and watched and got a hard-on as I plopped and farted, and wrinkled his nose up in mock disgust at the smell. Afterwards we scurried back to the living room and finished our joint.
'So hot watching you do it,' he grinned as he lit it. 'Just being with someone sitting on the toilet...'
'Yeah, it is, innit. Really gets me going watching you!' I said what came next almost without thinking. 'Sometimes it ... well, I kind of envy the toilet!'
'Eh?' He looked round sharply, raising an eyebrow. 'What, you mean when I'm...?'
'Um, yeah. Sorry, that came out a bit weird. I don't quite know how to put it, but...'
'You mean you want me to shit on you, don't you,' he said, with a trace of a sly grin spreading across his pretty face. 'Is that it?'
'Yeah, that's about it. Sorry, I know it's a bit mad, but...'
'Not really. No madder than shitting yourself, is it? Anyway, it's something I have thought about ... wanked over, I mean ... I can just imagine it, looking up a guy's arse as he gets ready to shit. You've done it once, haven't you? Didn't you say you had...?'
'Yeah, just the once. It was ... well, I didn't really take to the guy who did it, and it was a bit weird that way ... but yeah, it was an amazing buzz, lying under him as he ... well, y'know. It was the feeling of being his toilet that really got me. It's so ... submissive!'
'Heh, yeah, I bet! And that's what you want, is it ... to be my toilet?'
I nodded, and he smiled and leaned closer to me. Yet again I was struck by how handsome he was. A couple of days earlier he'd come across some of his modelling shots on another chat forum, with a long thread full of guys and quite a few girls too asking if anyone knew of any nude pictures of him, and speculating on whether he was gay or straight, and what he liked doing in bed. I could never quite get over the fact that not only had I ended up shagging him, but that together we'd explored the kinkiest, darkest reaches of each other's sexualities. Few, if any, of those people who worshipped him online could even have imagined that he'd have the sort of perversions he did, and yet here he was, fresh from watching me take a shit with his cock still hard and his face all red and intense, looking at me from under his lowered brow and promising to fulfil my horniest fantasy.
'I'll do it,' he breathed. 'You can be my toilet. One morning when we've had a good dinner the night before, and I need a really big shit. Oh yeah, I'll squat over you and shit on you, and make you cum so hard!'
Sometimes we'd been pretty impulsive and tried things out on the spur of the moment, but not this time. For me it felt like a big deal; something to be built up to, and it was days before we actually did it. We talked about it, though, when he was on the toilet, and every so often he'd break off what he was saying and his face would stiffen, and from underneath him came the slimy crackle and plop as he pushed out a turd.
'I wanna do it sitting,' he said huskily. 'I wanna give it to you real nice and slow, like now when I'm doing it on the toilet!'
'Mmm, yes! Really let me get the full effect of it ... cor, yeah, you sitting over me taking a big shit...!'
'Ha ha, yeah. One day, when I need a really big one. But sitting ... Hmm. What have we got that I can sit on...'
He broke off and plop-plopped lightly, and wrinkled his nose up at his own smell. It was quite thick that day, all sultry and so erotic. Then he glanced up as a thought came to him.
'I know.! What about one of the kitchen chairs? The legs of them are wide enough apart, and I can sit backwards with my bum hanging over the front, can't I...'
'Yes! How come I didn't think of that?! Ooh, are you doing another one...?!'
He strained a little, pursing his lips cutely, and shook his head.
'Nah, I'm done now. You gonna wipe my bottom for me? Wanna look at my shit first?'
He got up and shuffled forward a bit, and I knelt down in front of the toilet and looked down on what he'd done. His logs were chunky and smooth, that beautiful vivid mid-brown again, and a big curved one lay fatly across the back of the bowl with its broken end resting fatly on the porcelain above the water's surface. The seat was warm from his bottom and thighs. His shit was obscenely beautiful, and his manly smell was more erotic than ever.
'Ooh! Like that, don't you!' he breathed. 'Go on, get your face in nearer...'
I lowered my head further into the toilet that Ed the hunky model had just used, looking down on his shit and sniffing deeply at his smell. I fumbled my dick out and started to wank, until he stopped me and got me to wipe his bottom for him. Afterwards we wanked off together, and both shot all over his shit and used toilet paper.
Three more times we got off together as he sat on the toilet, but then the following Saturday the moment for me to take its place finally arrived. We'd hinted at it to each other the day before, and although he hadn't said anything he'd raised a knowing eyebrow when I made us a big portion of beans on toast for lunch, and then an Indian dinner with various vegetable and lentil curries, and rice and naan breads and chapatis. Afterwards, when we settled down to watch a film and have a smoke, he had the most glorious farts. He winked at me as he leaned sideways in his seat and let out a sonorous 'parp.' It smelled delectable, even for him, and the next time he needed to do it I begged him to do it right in my face. He ended up kneeling over me, with his pants down and my nose right between his cheeks so that it nearly touched his bumhole as it puckered busily in and out, wanking me through my clothes as he farted on me again and again. The sense of submission to him turned me on more than I'd ever thought possible, especially when I whimpered, and he chuckled softly and gassed me with another ripe fart. Hastily I batted his hand away from my cock before I came in my pants.
'I'm gonna need such a shit tomorrow morning,' he breathed. 'I'm gonna go to the toilet big time!'
The recollection came to me when I woke up the next day, and lying in bed I got hard as I thought about what was going to happen that day. It was still quite early, but I got up and made a coffee, and then cursed when it made me need a shit badly. There was no sign of him and I knew he'd stayed up quite late the night before, so I gave in and went to the toilet. Oh well, I thought, it didn't much matter. Today it was going to be about him doing it, not me, and anyway, there was always another day, especially when we were still under lockdown. They were starting to talk about easing it, but there was little sign of that yet, I saw as I browsed the news on my phone. Then I tucked the phone back in my pocket and wiped my arse, and went back through to the living room.
Ed got up half an hour later, ambled into the kitchen and then and came through with a steaming mug in his hand. He was still in his boxer shorts and dressing gown, and his thick hair was all tousled, which made him look unusually cute and boyish. He ran his hand ruefully through it, and reached out for his mug again.
'I so need a haircut,' he said plaintively. 'It's a pain the salons not being open.'
'Yeah, and they're not opening again for a while yet. It's on the news now that the lockdown's staying in place for another few weeks. Bad luck!'
'Shit. In that case can I borrow your clippers? I'd best just shave it all off before it gets out of hand!'
'Sure. Is that tea you've got there?'
'Yeah.' He looked at me with his sly little grin. 'I thought coffee might ... make things happen a bit too quickly.'
He put his tea down again and lifted his leg to scratch it, so that his dressing down fell back from across his long, muscular thigh. The top of it was loose, showing off his smooth chest. I couldn't help staring at him, and he knew it. As he reached out for his tea again he looked straight at me and grinned again.
'So ... you wanna do it then?'
I nodded mutely. In truth there was nothing I wanted more than to submit to him like I had the night before, but this time so utterly that I actually became his toilet, and I'd lie there simultaneously defiled and honoured as he gave me his shit. My mouth was dry and my heart was fluttering, and I could feel my dick getting hard.
'Good,' he said calmly. 'I really wanna do this. It feels so ... extreme. It's kind of giving me a power trip, the thought of actually using you as ... but that's kind of a problem. Makes me feel a bit guilty in a way. You are sure, aren't you?'
'Yes! It's okay. If I'm honest, it makes it even better if you're getting a power trip off it, because it's the opposite for me. The sense of ... submission, I suppose, and if you're enjoying doing it.... That's what makes it so exciting! Anyway, you know I've done it before.'
'Yeah, I do. So ... shall we make some coffee then...?'
'Ooh! Yes, I'll go and do that. And I'll make everything ready in the bathroom too!'
We'd already talked through how we were going to do it. Whilst the kettle was boiling I took one of the kitchen chairs through into the bathroom. They had metal legs with no crossbars between them, so I could lie underneath, whilst the seat and the back were some kind of moulded wood effect, so they'd wipe clean easily if needs be! I took up the mat from the middle of the room and spread out some plastic bags and a folded towel to rest my head on. Finally, I cleared the clutter from around the bath and put out the disinfectant. Then I went and made the coffee and took it through to him.
I watched him closely as he picked up the mug from the table in his long, elegant fingers, flashing his chest at me again as he did so. The tension in the room was palpable as he drank it, and he glanced over at my with his face very serious. My dick was tingling and pressing against my pants and I had butterflies in my stomach, and in my mind's eye I kept playing through what was surely about to happen. He reached down and fiddled with his cock for a second, and as he did so I saw that he too was getting hard. He looked pensive for a second, and then cleared his throat.
'It's starting,' he smiled. 'I can feel it...'
The pressure in his bowels built up slowly over the next quarter of an hour, and I sat and quivered in anticipation. He needed to fart, and he came and stood in front of me, pulled his pants down and lifted his dressing gown so that I could get my head under it, and he let out two squeaky, hissing ones right into my face. They were riper and stronger than the night before; the smell of a lad who needs a shit, and it made my dick spring to attention. He sat down again, eyed me coolly and reached for his coffee mug again, and looked up for a second with his face all pensive.
'It feels really solid,' he breathed. 'You know how when you feed me lentils sometimes and they make me do big logs ... like that!'
'Mmm! Nice! Do you need to go now...?'
'Nah, not quite yet. It's coming on nice and slow ... feels good! I won't wait til I'm really desperate though. Wanna take my time!'
We sat and let the tension build up for another half an hour. He started to wear his 'I need a shit' look, with his face growing stiff as the gentle pressure in his bowels started to become uncomfortable. He didn't fart again, and that usually meant he was getting to the stage where his chute was full and if he let out any gas the urge to shit would become irresistible. The prospect of being the toilet he was really starting to need badly made my heart race and my stomach flutter. Eventually he cleared his throat and looked up, and my stomach plummeted into my boots.
'Cam ... I need to go to the toilet.'
'Okay. I'll go first then and get ready. You come in a minute.'
He nodded, still looking all serious but now with just the faintest traces of a smile. Leaving him there, I went first into my room and stripped naked. I was almost shaking with anticipation and my hands felt all clumsy as I pulled my pants down. Then I went through to the bathroom, got down and wriggled in under the chair, shuffling far enough forward so that when he hung his arse over the front it would be right above my chest. I reached out and pulled the towel in under my head, then lay back and waited in silence.
A couple of minutes later I heard movement in the living room and footsteps coming across the hall, and in he came. He'd taken his dressing gown off so that he was wearing only his boxers, looking as if he'd just got out of bed and come through to the toilet. From down there on the floor he seemed even taller than he was, as if his shapely legs went on forever. He didn't look down at me as he closed the door, stood over me and pulled down his pants. His long dick was more than half hard, and he fingered it for a moment with his eyes dancing. Then he stepped forward and straddled the chair, and lowered himself slowly down until his thighs were on the seat. He shuffled backwards a little, and leaned his body forwards, in much the same position as he sat on the toilet but a little higher up. I lay below him, pinned and helpless between his ankles and the legs of the chair, looking up in awe at the beautiful curve of his spine, ending in the perfection of his firm young arse, his cheeks all smooth and peachy and between them the darker skin of his crack. His wrinkled, hairy little hole was right over my chest. Just like he did on the toilet, he sat for a minute that felt like a lifetime. My dick was so hard it actually hurt. Then his head bowed forward slightly and his bottom relaxed. His shit was moving inside him, sliding down his chute and giving him that delicious sense of relief, and he gave a soft little grunt.
I watched his bumhole intently. It rippled and twitched and then flared out a little, like lips puckered out in a kiss, and he let out a soft little puff of gas. It squeezed in, but then out with another squeaky fart, and this time it twitched and started to open wider. The smell of his bowels descended on me and I whimpered, and then the tip of a turd appeared in the middle of his opening pink ring. It emerged slowly, his hole rippling around it, until a thick brown point jutted out of him. It was solid and dull, all cracked as it came out further. Without warning the end of it broke off and thudded onto my chest, rolled off past my neck and slipped onto the floor, and I gasped. Above me his hole was rippling and stretching around his lumpy, cracked turd, and another lump pulled away from it, hung for a moment and then dropped. This one thudded onto my chest and stayed there, heavy and tacky like a hot lump of plasticine. I couldn't stop myself letting out a little whimper, and his bottom tensed up suddenly with a thick brown lump still protruding from his hole.
'Okay..?' he breathed.
'Yes! Oh yes ... it's fucking amazing! Gimme your shit Ed!'
'Yeah! I still really need to go ... uh ... here it comes.'
His bottom relaxed and his turd started to move again, and then suddenly it grew smoother, and he extruded a big brown log. It was that beautiful vivid brown colour again, cracked and curved and glistening with slime. It hissed and crackled, then snapped off right below his bum and a thick curl thudded down between my nipples, bent and toppled over, and another one came down on top of it. His manly smell blasted up my nose and the filthy sound of him shitting seemed to ring in my ears, and I lay and moaned as he dropped another hefty brown log on me, paused for a second with the broken end still sticking from his hole and then grunted and pushed it out so that it landed on his logs with a squelchy little thud. He breathed out, long and contented.
Time seemed to have slowed down. I lay there under him for what felt like ages, trembling all over with my dick rock hard and throbbing fit to burst. He loomed over me, tall and sultry and masculine, sitting over me with his dirty bumhole twitching and puckering in and out, a little shit crusted round it and clinging to his anal hairs. His turds were heavy and hot on my chest; awesomely nasty and unbelievably horny, and the smell hung around us like steam from the shower. I was his toilet, and the feeling of it was like nothing I'd ever dreamed of! Then above me he grunted and drew breath, his bottom heaved and his hole flared open, and another long brown column came from deep inside him. It was thinner than before, smooth but slightly lumpy, and it slid slowly out of him with a soft squelch and hiss. Four or five inches curled slowly out, pulled away and dropped, pushed a cooling brown lump back towards my face as it fell heavily onto his pile and flopped down over my nipple. Another one followed it, all sinuous and glistening, and then a thinner one that slowly tapered off. He pinched his bumhole shut and squeezed it off, and when he flared his hole out again it was brown and sticky. The sheer foulness of him having a shit overwhelmed me.
'Ooh...' I sighed. 'Oh fuck that's good...'
His smell was so nice that day. It was still all warm and sultry, but stronger than usual with a very slightly rank edge, like it sometimes did after he'd been eating spicy food. I lay there and sniffed deeply at it, and my dick throbbed even harder. Above me he was wanking slowly, fumbling with his cock behind the back of the chair. His brown bumhole twitched again, flared out slightly and he let out a little wet fart. Then his arse began to make soft filthy noises once more, and he curled out a load of slim, slimy turds. The smell grew riper and the pile heavier as the covered the top of it in wet little curls, and I lay and moaned as he gave me his shit. He strained a few times at the end, until a last little lump dropped from him, and then his dirty, satisfied little hole squeezed slowly shut.
I thought he was going to wipe his bum, but he stood up quickly, lifted the chair off me and turned round. His big cock thrust out in front of him, and a horny smile spread across his face as he looked down on what he'd done. Quickly he knelt down over me again, reached down and took my cock in his hand, wanking himself clumsily with the other.
'Like it?!' he hissed. 'Was it good being my toilet, then?'
'Yes! It's .. ooh! Oh Ed, stop or I'll cum!'
'Mmm! Good! Yeah...' He wanked me harder. 'Yeah! Ooh yeah, cum all over yourself!'
I clenched my teeth tight and squirmed, whole body writhing with the sensation, and then I came harder than I ever had in my life. I cried out aloud and spurted so hard I hit myself in the face, and then he came too. His head went back and his face contorted, and he gave a great gasp as he shot a big load from his dick that spattered all over my chest and his pile, and up into my open mouth.
'Fucking hell!' he breathed. 'That was mad! Most intense shit I've ever had! Come on, let's clean you up. You like that, then?'
'Oh yes! I mean, what do you think?!'
'Ha ha, yeah you did get a bit excited! I wanna do that again!'
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