Liam

This is a story involving light to moderate scat play between adult males. All characters are over the age of eighteen. If this isn't your sort of thing or it is illegal for you to view it, please leave now. This story is entirely fictitious, and any resemblance to actual individuals is coincidental.

Liam

Chapter Five

One afternoon the following week Liam was at home, flicking idly through the video site he sometimes used, killing time before he went to Olly's. He was excited. Olly had been to see his dom the evening before. His bottom was still smarting, he'd said in a text that afternoon, and he hadn't been for a shit that day. Liam was hard already as he began browsing through the videos. There was a new user on there, called CallumToilet, who'd put up a load of videos he claimed to have taken at work with a camera on the toilet floor. Liam's cock twitched as he watched some lad's trousers drop round his ankles, and he lifted his heels as his turds plopped loudly into the bowl. There were loads of these videos. They turned Liam on, but also made him curious, for there was something familiar about them; the type of toilet; the colours of the walls and cubicles. It was almost as if it was somewhere he himself had been. He was musing on this when his phone buzzed.

Hey. Nearly home. U wanna cum over and watch me take a shit? X

Liam's mouth fell open when Olly pulled down his pants. The welts were red and angry; long, straight lines across both cheeks, raised and hot to the touch. The bloke who inflicted them was called Steve, Olly explained. He was a strict top who loved caning young guys, especially formal school- or judicial-style punishments. He'd summoned Olly into his 'study,' ordered him to take down his pants and bend over the back of a chair, and given him eight slashing strokes on the bare bottom with a heavy school cane. Olly had managed to hold position, clutching the chair seat until his knuckles went white, but the last couple of strokes had made him cry out. Then he'd sent him away, to get the bus home with his bottom blazing, trying not to squirm and wince and draw attention to himself.

'It still hurts,' he said ruefully. 'And I really, really need to shit.'

He squatted down over a plastic bag and let go. His shit was looser and gassier and lighter than usual. Liam watched intently as his lined bottom heaved and farted, and curled out one fat lump after another, tapering off into a stream of slim, fast-moving snakes. The stink hit him like a blow in the face. When Olly was done he leaned in closer, sniffing deeply, until Olly turned to face him and together they wanked off over the curled, mushy pile.

'Feels so good having a shit after you've been caned,' smiled Olly afterwards.

'I bet. Er ... do you reckon Steve would cane me? You know I get off on it, and...'

'Course he would. Why don't we go together? I know he's done groups of lads in the past, and it'd be fucking hot getting it with you watching! Let's wait til my arse is better from this one, and then see if he'll do us both.'

One Saturday a month later found Liam and Olly on the bus to Steve's house on the edge of the city. As Olly had expected, he'd jumped at the chance to punish both of them, and now Liam was nervously anticipating his first taste of the cane. Steve had asked him for a 'safety word' to use if he couldn't take any more, but he had no idea what was in store for him or how well he could handle it. He'd got Olly to give him a few licks with the belt a couple of weeks before and that had been fairly easy, but a full-on caning was another matter altogether. His heart pounded as they got off the bus and walked up the street to Steve's place. It was a big, slightly tatty detached house set back from the road. The thought flashed through Liam's mind that it was far enough away from the neighbours for the noises of Steve's canings not to be heard. His mouth was dry as the front door opened.

Steve was a tall, severe-looking man in his early 50s; still quite handsome, in a schoolmasterly sort of way. He showed them into the hallway and ordered them to wait in silence, facing the wall with their hands on their heads. Liam caught Olly's eye as they stood. He looked scared too, biting his lip nervously, and looked away. Then Liam began to feel a stirring in his bowels. He'd not been to the toilet that day, he thought, and although he wasn't expecting to need a shit until later maybe the prospect of punishment had loosened his bowels a bit. Either that or he might just need to fart. At that moment the study door opened.

'In here. Now.'

The room was large and echoey, with a desk at one end and bookcases along one wall, and a single chair in the middle of the floor. Liam wondered dully what Steve did for a living. But then he walked across the room and picked the cane up from the desk. It was long and pale and whippy, with raised ridges and a curved end. Liam quaked as he flexed it, and then pointed it at Olly.

'Come here. Stand by that chair.'

Olly complied slowly. He was breathing hard.

'You will receive nine strokes. You will remain in position until you are told you can stand up. You get an extra one for every time you straighten up. Now, take down your trousers and your underpants and bend over the chair.'

Everything felt unreal to Liam as he watched Olly unbuckle his belt and let the flannel trousers they were both wearing drop to the floor. His bottom peeped out from below his shirt as he pulled down his pants, then came into view as he bent and took hold of the sides of the seat. Steve twitched his shirt tails further up to expose his target more fully, and then took up a firm stance, standing behind and next to the trembling lad with his legs well apart. He held the cane across Olly's bottom for a second or two to establish his aim. There was total silence except for Olly's hoarse breathing. Then Steve swung the cane high into the air and brought it back down with the full strength of his arm. It shrieked as it cut through the air.

Swoosh-CRACK!

Liam couldn't believe the violence of it, or the sheer loudness of the sound as it struck Olly's bottom. Olly gasped, then clenched his teeth tight and closed his eyes as the white line across his buttocks began to turn pink, and then red. Steve stood and watched too, in no hurry to deliver the next stroke. For fifteen or twenty seconds Olly waited, before Steve swung again.

CRACK! ... CRACK! ... CRACK!

Liam stood transfixed; horrified and deeply scared, but also turned on by what he was seeing. Steve had a hard-on too, he couldn't help noticing. Olly took it stoically at first, gasping softly with the shock as each stroke lashed down and then screwing up his face as the pain peaked, but after six he began to break. He struggled to keep still and his welted bottom squirmed and flinched away from the shrieking cane. As the eighth stroke landed he gave a sharp cry, and in the pause before the final one Liam could hear him gasping. Then Steve swung the cane one last time.

Swish-CRACK!

'Oooooowwww!' Olly yelled.

Steve eyed his victim coolly. Olly was shaking, still breathing in harsh gasps. His entire bottom was red and sore, his nine welts spaced out across it, with two or three close together right across where his arsehole was. He wouldn't be sitting down comfortably for a while.

'Get up. Pull your trousers up and stand there. Hands on head.'

Liam caught a glimpse of Olly's face as he pulled his trousers up. He was terrified, and he felt sick as Steve turned to him and ordered him to take Olly's place. For some reason he remembered that stirring in his bowels as he stepped forward, but right now it seemed irrelevant. Steve spoke evenly.

'As this is your first offence you will receive six strokes. On your bare bottom, and bend over.'

Everything felt unreal again as he fumbled with his belt and let his trousers drop, but then the cool air on his bottom as he pulled down his boxer briefs brought him back to reality. He was about to be caned with a savagery he'd never anticipated, and all he could do was try to hold position and keep quiet. He studied the grain of the wooden seat as he bent, and then his bottom flinched uncontrollably as he felt the hard touch of the cane on his skin. Steve seemed to hold it there forever. Again silence descended. Then Steve's arm swung back, and he closed his eyes.

Swish-CRACK!

For a second or two he seemed to feel nothing as his mind struggled to process what had happened. Then suddenly the pain flooded in; an unbelievable burning sting that made him gasp out loud and set his buttocks squirming and flinching. He couldn't take this; no way; not a chance; it hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before, and it was growing stronger all the time. He closed his eyes and told himself it would soon be over. Then Steve swung again.

Swish-CRACK!

He yelped loudly at the second stroke, and by the time he'd had a few more he was gripping the chair frantically, squirming around and gasping for breath between strokes. His bottom was on fire, and only by a supreme effort of will could he stop himself jumping up and clutching at it. It was hurting so much he lost count of the strokes, and each time the cane landed he yelled out at the top of his voice. His eyes were blurry and he'd bitten into his lip, and he gave a full-on howl as the last stroke landed.

'Six strokes,' he heard Steve say, as if from miles away. 'Pull your pants up and stop making a noise. Now get out, both of you.'

Liam felt intensely self-conscious as they walked back down the street and boarded the bus. He'd fingered his bottom as he'd pulled his pants up and felt the welts, and it stung horribly. Olly was the same, and Liam could only imagine the pain from the nine strokes he'd had. He was wincing slightly as he walked. Then his bowels stirred again. In the intensity of what had just happened the slight urge to take a dump had been forgotten. Now it returned with a vengeance.

'Olly ... I need a shit.'

'What, now?'

'Yeah.'

'There's nowhere ... we can't go back. He's probably having a wank right now. Can you hold it til we get back to mine? Then I can watch you!'

'Er ... yeah, I think so. I'll try...'

The bus was nearly empty so they took a seat, and he drew breath sharply and only just avoided squeaking aloud as he sat down. Every time the bus went over a bump he got a stab of pain. Yet the sting was starting to subside, giving way to a hot, smarting sensation that was strangely sexy. The pressure in his bowels was mounting fast, too, and together they were starting to give him a hard-on. He clenched up to avoid farting as the bus pulled up at the back of a long line of cars, and caught Olly's eye again, looking on him with a little lopsided grin.

'You really need the toilet, don't you?'

'Yes! It's really come on quick, and ... oh god, traffic. I'm seriously gonna shit myself if I can't get to a bog soon.'

Mercifully the traffic cleared quickly and they were on their way again, but by the time they got off the bus and walked the last few minutes to Olly's flat Liam was truly desperate, walking quickly with his sore bum clenched up tight, and he hopped and squirmed in desperation as Olly got his keys out to open the block door. Then as they got into the lift his bowels gave a lurch he could barely control. He squeezed his hole as tight as he could, and felt stickiness in his crack.

'Oh!' he gasped. 'I'm turtle's-heading! I can't hold it!'

He began unbuckling his belt as they hurried along the corridor, suddenly noticing as Olly put his keys in the front door that he was rock hard. His shit was moving again, forcing his hole open wider. The twin sensations in his bottom – the sting of the caning and the uncontrollable urge to take a dump – dominated his senses and he could think of nothing else. Then as they got into the flat Olly grabbed his arm.

'Do it now! Go on, just do it!'

Liam's trousers fell round his ankles, leaving him standing in his pants, his head spinning and his bottom in exquisite agony, and his hard-on sticking out like a gun. Then came another spasm in his back passage, and he turned away from Olly, pulled up his shirt and gave in. The relief was unbelievable, and he moaned out loud as he let go a great thick turd, all hot and lumpy between his cheeks and spreading out to his wounded cheeks as his hole closed behind it. He paused, leaving him breathing hard with the smell rising up around him, and he turned and looked at Olly, who was standing massaging his cock through his trousers. He unbuckled his belt and let them drop, and the two of them began to strip, pulling shirts off over their heads and bending to take off their shoes, drawing another whimper from Liam as his shit pressed harder against the sensitive bit behind his balls. He pulled out his cock and stroked it briefly. As he stepped out of his trousers another thick, smooth turd began to nose its way out, pushing his load out left and right so that its warmth began to spread over the smarting welts. The sensation was fantastic, and he bowed his head and moaned constantly as he emptied himself out, until finally he'd finished, with a great lumpy mound on his bottom.

'Mmm, you really needed that!' grinned Olly. He stepped forward and pulled out the back of Liam's waistband. 'Yeah, big shit ... phew, and it stinks!'

He let Liam's waistband go and started running his fingers lightly over his still-smarting bottom and the hot pile that had come from it. As he did he nudged Liam along the corridor until they reached the bathroom, where Liam bent again, his hands on the side of the bath. He began to push his shit about more firmly, wanking with one hand as he massaged Liam's sore, messy buttocks with the other. Liam's mouth fell open as Olly gave another little push, nudging his shit forward to tickle the back of his balls. His cock twitched and began dribbling pre-cum.

'Oh! Oh yeah ... oh that feels nice...'

'Mmm, yeah ... wanna sit in it?'

He led Liam over to the toilet, where he turned around and sat down gingerly. He winced as his bum touched the hard seat, giving way to a gasp of ecstasy as his shit spread out across his cheeks and came forward to massage his balls. He sat back again and began to stroke his cock. Olly came and stood over him, wanking too, leaning forward and thrusting his cock in his face, and then right in his mouth. He sucked and rolled his tongue round it, reaching round as he did to run his fingers over Olly's buttocks, where the welts were as prominent as on his own. He began to move again, rocking lightly to and fro, loving the sensations between his thighs and around his balls, and on his tender behind. He wriggled harder, moaning in the pain and the pleasure with Olly wanking over him, until Olly shot all over him, and seconds later he leaned back and spunked all over his tummy.

A couple of weeks later he went home for the Christmas break. On the long, boring train journey home he sat and daydreamed, and got a hard-on in his jeans as he remembered his last session with Olly, just a couple of days before. Olly had been in a very submissive mood and desperate for a shit when he'd arrived, and Liam had made him hold it until he'd lost control and done it in his pants. It was big and smelly, and he'd groaned with relief and humiliation as he dirtied himself. After that Liam had made him sit in it for a long time and wriggle until his arse was covered in it, before he'd got him to lie down in the bath and pissed on his face. By the time he'd finished Olly was moaning and wanking and begging him to be his toilet, so he'd turned round, sat on the edge of the bath with his bottom hanging over with it, and taken a dump. His shit was big and solid, and Olly had cried out aloud as each fat log landed, and cum uncontrollably as Liam pushed out his last little nuggets.

'I want it in the face,' he'd said afterwards. 'When you get back, you've got to squat over me and give it me in the face.'

Liam shuffled in his seat and gave his stiff dick a discreet stroke. He was looking forward to that. Before it happened, though, he had something else in mind. CallumToilet had put a load more videos online in the previous week, and Liam had wanked off more than once watching and listening as his supposed workmates dropped their loads. There was also one titled 'Young workmate feeds me.' The camera was at a bad angle and the film was fuzzy, but what was happening was clear enough. A tall, slim guy – CallumToilet, presumably – was lying naked on the floor, wearing a black hood to hide his face. As he lay another trim guy, who judging from the pertness of his smooth arse was quite young, came and squatted over his face, and took a big shit in his mouth. The guy on the floor gagged and choked and wanked as he fought to eat it, but he couldn't keep up and ended up cumming all over himself with a brown pile still on his face. Liam wasn't into eating shit, although he suspected it was a line he might cross at some point. It was the logical conclusion of his fantasies about being used as a toilet, after all, but for now the thought made him feel sick. He found the idea of feeding quite a turn-on, though, and he'd exchanged messages with a guy who wanted him to do that, although nothing had come of it yet. He'd also looked at CallumToilet's profile more closely and noticed that he gave his location as the same town in which Liam's family lived. He was tempted to get in touch. But he was starting to wonder if the sense of familiarity about some of the toilet videos wasn't just his imagination. Was it just possible, he wondered, that they'd been shot in the toilets of the factory he'd worked in over the summer, and where he'd be back the following week? He wasn't sure, but he wanted to find out!

Enjoyed this? Feedback and ideas are very welcome: namabmas@gmail.com

Please consider donating to Nifty so we can continue to enjoy this excellent resource.