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 Six

Liam was set to packing boxes at the end of the production line on his first week back at work. He wasn't enjoying being back in the factory but he needed the money, and anyway, it was still full of horny young guys to eyeball, and to hear and smell in the toilets. Besides, the shift pattern had changed since the summer and the two twelve-hour shifts had been replaced with three eight-hour ones, so the hours weren't as long. He was working 2-10pm that week, which kind of suited him: he'd never been that keen on getting up at 430 in the morning.

It was mid-afternoon on his first day back when he started to need a shit. He held it in for an hour or so, liking the sensation of working with full bowels, but eventually he gave in and went to the toilet. The middle cubicle was occupied, so he took one of the side ones, sat down and took a loud, splashy dump. He'd been there only a minute or two when someone came in and took the cubicle at the far side, and as usual he listened intently. He heard the guy – whoever he was – dropping his pants, and then the first sign of life from the middle cubicle; a faint scraping sound, as if something light but hard was being moved on the tiled floor. A thought came to him. He leaned forward silently and peered under the partition. Someone was sitting in there, with dark blue trousers around his ankles, part-covering the steel-toecap boots they all wore. And on the floor next to them, pointing to the far cubicle, was a camera. His heart raced a little. Evidently he'd been right, and CallumToilet was sitting only a couple of feet away from him!

Back on the line he mulled over what to do. He could just message CallumToilet online, but what if he was wrong? What, too, if he wasn't wrong but that it was someone he didn't fancy or didn't get on with? Either way it could be embarrassing, and he concluded that he wanted to figure out who he actually was before he did anything. His thoughts turned back to the guy in the cubicle, and whether there was anything he'd seen that might give him a clue. He often set himself little mental puzzles to keep his mind active through the tedium of the production line, and he was particularly keen to solve this one. The boots were no help: some guys had distinctive ones, but these were just ordinary, scruffy black boots, and didn't narrow it down much. The blue trousers were more promising. There was something significant about them, he thought, although at that moment he couldn't work out what. He was still turning it over in his mind as he walked home that evening. He was proved right about one thing only a couple of hours later, though, when he logged into the usual site to find a new video. 'Two hot lads take a dump,' it was titled. Within seconds of opening it he saw his own boots coming into the next cubicle, and he grinned as he listened to what he clearly remembered doing only a few hours earlier. Then the second guy came in and the camera swivelled round to take him in as he took a loose, farty shit. He scrolled down to the caption below the film and started in surprise. 'I wanna eat the first lads shit,' it read. 'He's so cute and he smells so nice.'

The next day he was working on the line again when a grinding noise came from under the conveyor belt, and it suddenly stopped. They stood around for a few minutes, until the word went along the line that they'd sent for the mechanics, and there was nothing that could be done until it was fixed so they might as well have a break. Liam drifted off to the canteen and had a cup of tea and a chat with a couple of older workmates. Twenty minutes later the word came through that they were nearly ready to restart the line, so he headed back. A couple of the on-site mechanics were still working when he got there, a grizzled older guy and one of the trainees; a handsome lad of about his age, whom he'd clocked a couple of times having a cigarette in the smoking shelter near the canteen door. He was dark; bronzed skin, brown eyes, almost black hair in a style that really suited him. His dark-blue work trousers showed off his pert arse to perfection as he bent to tighten a final couple of bolts. Liam started suddenly. Dark blue trousers! The mechanics wore them, but he didn't think anyone else did. That trainee was tall and slim, too, just like the guy in the video, and those black boots looked mighty familiar.

'You done Callum?' asked the older mechanic. 'Ready to start up again?'

'Hang on,' the lad called Callum replied. He looked up and saw Liam, gave a faintly bashful look, then reached into the machine with his spanner and gave a couple of twists. 'Yup, all done. It's ready to go.'

They packed their tools into their bags and walked off as the line started up again, leaving Liam's head spinning. As he worked he thought through every way he might still be wrong, and eliminated each possibility in turn. He was sure that only the mechanics wore blue trousers, meaning that his man had to be one of them. He was certain that this guy was the only one who was anything like the height and build of the guy in the video: he almost certainly had the same boots, and to cap it all, he was called Callum. There'd been some kind of recognition in the look he'd given him too. Oh yes, he thought, with mounting excitement, he'd found his man alright. The question now was how to approach him. He was pondering on that when he remembered the other guy in the video. Callum had said clearly he'd been fed by a workmate, which had to mean there was at least one other fetishist in the place. What were the chances of that?! Now all he had to do was contact them!

Two days later he came out of the canteen after his break and saw Callum standing in the shelter smoking. His stomach dropped. He'd concluded that his best option would be to send Callum a message online but he couldn't think of how to word it, and now here was a chance to strike up a conversation with him instead. He steeled himself and went over.

'Hi mate,' he said pleasantly. 'I couldn't blag a fag off you, could I?'

'Er .. sure,' said Callum, looking a bit startled. 'Here you go.'

Liam didn't normally smoke, aside from the odd cigarette when he was drunk, but it was the obvious way of getting talking. He took the cigarette Callum offered him. As he lit it he glanced at Callum, who was suddenly looking slightly nervous. His mind raced as he tried to work out if he should try and bring the subject up now, and if so how the hell he could do it.

'Shitty day, innit,' said Callum, gesturing around at the rain-wet yard. He seemed to be searching for something to say.

'Yeah,' agreed Liam. 'Oh well, be back inside in a minute.'

'You've worked here before, ain't you? Back in the summer was it, you was around?'

'Yeah, I'm a student. I'm just back here for the holidays.'

'Crap job, innit, on the shop floor.'

'I've had worse. Anyhow, the money's not too bad. You been here long?'

''bout nine months. Was on the line first, then started training as a fitter. I'm Callum by the way.'

'Oh, I'm Liam. Hi. Bet the fitter's job is more interesting, isn't it?'

'Yeah, at least you aren't doing same thing all the time. Money's better as well. Anyway...' he crushed out his cigarette and dropped it into the ashtray. 'Best go. I need a shit!'

He turned and sauntered off, leaving Liam to finish his cigarette. He got a little hard as he imagined Callum on the toilet, and wondered if he genuinely needed to go, or whether he was going for another camera session. He wondered briefly if Callum might have been hinting something, but that was highly unlikely: Callum had no idea what he was into, surely, and still less that Liam knew his secret. Oh well, at least they'd spoken to one another now, and hopefully another chance would arise before long. He put out his cigarette and went back to work.

A couple of hours later he started to need a shit. He toyed with the idea of holding on until he got home, but his family would be in and he'd just have to sit on the toilet. Far better to do it at work, where he might get the chance to encounter someone else. He excused himself and went off to the toilets. As he got there the door opened and Callum came out. He looked momentarily startled, said an awkward 'hi' and scuttled off. Liam cursed inwardly. He found the toilets deserted, so he went into the middle cubicle, closed the door and began unbuckling his belt. As he sat down he heard the door open, and someone crossed the floor quickly and took the cubicle to his left. He was sure it was Callum. His shit slid down the chute, pushed his hole open in a little soft fart, and began to slide out with a soft crackling hiss. The smell began to thicken as he sat there with a big log hanging from his bottom, and then as it slid further out he felt it starting to break.

'Plop! Plop! Plop! ... plip.'

He bent slowly forward as the end of his turd dropped from him and looked under the partition. Sure enough, there were Callum's boots and his dark blue trousers. They were alone in the toilets, and the silence was total. He swallowed nervously.

'Callum,' he said softly.

Silence. Liam wondered momentarily what to do. He could wipe and leave and pretend this hadn't happened. But he'd already spoken. He was committed, he thought, and he couldn't back out now. In for a penny, in for a pound...

'Callum,' he said again. 'I can see it's you. It's okay ... I don't mind. You're CallumToilet, aren't you.'

'Oh fuck... How did you know?'

'I'm on that site too. I saw that video you put up the other day, and I saw what you said ... ooh, here comes another one. Listen!' He let go another turd, which dropped with a soft splash. 'Hear that?'

'Yeah.'

You wanna see...?'

'What?!'

'Look over the top. I don't mind.'

In answer there was a scuffling in the cubicle, and he looked up into Callum's face, staring down at him over the partition. A couple more slim turds slid from him and plopped into the bowl, and Callum's eyes widened. Liam grinned up at him, stroking his semi.

'I've finished. You wanna see it?'

Callum nodded, his face a picture of amazement, and Liam half-stood and shuffled forward to let him see what he'd done. His logs lay fatly in the water, piled up above its surface at the back.

'Oh ... cor that's so big,' breathed Callum. Liam could hear him wanking behind the partition. 'Smells too. Er ... you gonna wipe?'

Liam nodded. Scarcely able to believe what he was doing he reached for the toilet paper and wiped his bottom. It seemed to happen in slow motion. It was so fucking exciting doing this here and now, when someone might walk in any minute, and by the time he'd done he was rock hard. He gave Callum a good look at his big cock before he pulled his pants up again.

'Meet me one time?' Callum said to him urgently by the washbasins as he washed his hands. 'Can we? Shall we have some fun together...?'

Callum lived with his mum and younger brother, and with Liam also living in the family home opportunities to play together weren't going to come up often. Liam didn't really expect anything to happen before he went back to university, especially as Christmas was only a few days away. He was wrong, though: a couple of afternoons later Callum rang him.

'Hiya,' he said pleasantly. 'You working today?'

'Nah, not til after Christmas now. Back in on 27th. Are you?'

'Yeah, I'm on the early shift this week. Just finished a couple of hours ago. Me mum's taken me brother up to London and they're not gonna be back til late. I've got the house to myself, if you fancy ... well, y'know?'

'Er ... yeah. I'm not doing anything til this evening.'

'Cool. You ... er, you been for a shit today?'

'Nah, it'll be this afternoon,' Liam replied, his heart racing and his cock stirring as he contemplated what might happen. 'I usually need to go then.'

A couple of hours later he was at Callum's house, sitting on a beanbag in his little bedroom, with his eyes flicking between Callum rolling a joint on the table and the videos of lads shitting playing on his computer. Liam didn't often smoke dope, and when he did it made him very horny. His cock was rock hard now, as Callum told him about his fetishes and the urge to take a shit built up slowly in his bowels. Callum was a bottom, he said, in scat and everything else, and his fantasies were about serving as another guy's toilet. His own shit held little interest for him, once he'd trained himself to eat by doing it on the floor and licking it to get used to the taste, and then progressed on to getting it in his mouth, chewing it, and then finally swallowing it. At first he'd been sick every time he'd eaten, but now he could handle it better. He'd been fed by a couple of guys recently and managed to swallow some of it.

'Er ... yeah,' said Liam. 'That video. Was that someone from work, then?'

'Yeah,' said Callum softly, blowing out smoke, his eyes dropping to the floor. 'Can't say who. He's bi, but he's not out. I got talking to him on Grindr, and... well, y'know. Not just that time; it's been ... oh three or four times now. I paid 'im first time, but now he'll just do it.'

'Fucking hell!' Liam took the joint that Callum held out. 'Go on ... who was it? It's alright; I'm not gonna say anything.'

'Er ... oh well, it was Nick, the forklift driver. Y'know, the younger one with the dark hair.'

'No way! He's well fit!'

'Yeah,' smiled Callum coyly. 'Such a nice arse. He does fucking massive shits as well! His ... well, his mate Simon, from the warehouse, you know him? Yeah? Well, he's pretty kinky too, really into piss, and he's pissed on me a few times. Not had his shit yet, but he's said he'll do it sometime...'

'Fuck me,' breathed Liam, barely able to believe what he was hearing. The need to shit came on more strongly, setting his heart racing. He passed the joint back to Callum. 'You think no-one's into this, but...'

'Yeah. Mad, innit. You scared the shit out of me when you said you knew about me, but then I figured that if you knew you had to be into it too, and you'd keep it quiet. So what about you, then? What are you into? You're a top, yeah?'

'Versatile, really. I've got a mate up at uni I play with; sometimes top, sometimes bottom. We've shit on each other a few times, done it in our pants together, and so on. I do love watching a guy shit as well. Would you do that? I know you're not so into your own, but would you do it for me?'

'Yeah, I'd do that, if you like. It is hot watching a guy, innit! I ... er, well, you really do look hot sitting on the shitter, and it smells fucking good. I bet your shit tastes so nice...' He looked straight at Liam. 'You need to go yet...?'

'Yeah,' admitted Liam. His heart was thumping and his stomach was full of butterflies. 'Yeah, I do. I'm not desperate, but...'

'Feed me,' said Callum urgently, handing him the nearly-finished joint and looking into his eyes. 'I wanna eat yer shit. Will you do it?'

'Er...' Liam hesitated, caught between excitement and fear of crossing a line into something kinkier than he'd ever done. But then, he thought, he'd crossed lines the first time he'd met Olly, or even when he'd shat in front of Neil. Backing out of this made no sense, and the prospect of doing it was just awesome. He took a last puff on the joint, crushed it out in the ashtray, and looked straight at Callum. 'Yeah. I'll do it. I'll feed you my shit.'

Suddenly they were both on their feet, pulling off their clothes. Callum's body was nice and toned, and the tattoos on his arms and chest really suited him. He knelt down in front of Liam, slipped his boxers down and began sucking his cock, taking it right back into his throat and keeping going until Liam was near to cumming and hissed at him to stop. Then Callum turned him round, bent him over and got his face right into his arse, tongue lapping wetly round his hole. Liam's chute was full, his shit was starting to press urgently against his ringpiece, and the feeling of being rimmed like that was incredible. He heard himself moaning.

'Fart on me,' whispered Callum. 'Fart in my face.'

'Can't ... I really need to shit!'

Callum leaned back, grabbed a pillow from the bed, and spread a towel from the radiator over it, and as Liam watched with pounding heart he lay down on his back, stroking his cock and looking up.

'You wanna go to the toilet?' he breathed, and opened his mouth wide.

Liam's legs felt soft and his heart was pounding again as he straddled Callum and squatted down. Callum's hands came up to meet him, guiding him into position and then stroking his bottom and hips, and he lifted his head to lick Liam's hole one more time. He rimmed Liam for a long time, alternately rolling his tongue round his arsehole and then thrusting it further in, and Liam gasped and sighed with the sensation. Then he lowered his head back down.

'Now. Nice and slow...' he whispered, and opened his mouth again.

'Oh yeah,' grunted Liam in reply. 'Ooh ... oh here it comes!'

He farted softly as his hole pushed open, and then he was pushing out a solid log, grunting in pleasure and relief as it slid through his hole. He looked down between his legs and watched as it advanced on Callum, tensing up slightly to stop it coming too fast. A lump began to pull away from its rounded, knobbly end, then broke away and dropped right into Callum's mouth. Callum gagged, and then bit down and began to chew, and Liam listened in amazement to the sound of this hot guy actually eating his shit. The smell rose up around him. Then his turd began to move again. Callum swallowed hard. 'Hold it!' he gasped thickly, and then opened his brown lips again just in time for the big brown log breaking away from Liam to land in it, cramming his mouth and sticking out of the top. Liam clenched up and dropped another lump on top, which toppled off and smeared Callum's cheek as it slid to the floor. Liam looked down at Callum's dick, pulsating and dribbling pre-cum even though he wasn't touching it. He was chewing frantically, slurping and gulping and gagging, and retching as he swallowed.

'Fucking hell,' he gasped through his mouthful, his voice all muffled and indistinct. He swallowed again and retched violently. 'Oh fuck ... shit! Your shit ... give me yer shit!'

Liam was near to cumming, his dick spurting piss and pre-cum and his head whirling, and he sighed loudly as he did another turd; a thick, cracked snake that went straight into Callum's mouth. Retching and gasping, he gesticulated frantically for Liam to hold it, but he couldn't. His shit was coming out and he had to let it go, and he gasped in relief as his turds crammed Callum's mouth, piled up on his face and slid down his cheeks. Finally it ended, leaving Liam to wank and try and bring his breathing back to normal, and listen to Callum fighting to eat what he could, struggling not to puke. The smell hung around them like gas.

'More?' he asked quietly. 'I'm nearly done...'

'Can't ... on me face ... do it now...'

Liam edged again as he strained, a gout of pre-cum dripped from him, and the the feeling as one last slim turd left him tipped him over the edge. He shot so hard as he finished his shit that it spurted right past Callum and onto the carpet, and as the turd fell onto his shitted face Callum spunked all over his stomach.

He couldn't believe what he'd done as he walked home. Callum had been sick as they cleaned up, and although afterwards they'd sat with another joint and Callum had told him how much he'd enjoyed it and complimented him on how his shit smelled and tasted, he still felt a bit guilty. But it would pass, he told himself, and it had been awesomely horny. He just hoped there'd be another chance before he went back to university.

Liam's grandparents usually came to stay over Christmas, but they hadn't this year so he and his family had a quiet Christmas. On Boxing Day his parents went to stay with some old friends for the night and took his sister with them, leaving him with the house to himself. He was lazing around watching a film that afternoon when he started to need a shit. He began to get horny as the pressure in his bowels mounted, remembering that he hadn't been to the toilet since the previous morning's huge hangover dump, and realising that with everything he'd eaten yesterday he was likely to do a real toilet-blocker. Once the film finished he got his laptop and logged onto the video site, and his cock grew harder still as he watched some slim lad shit his pants and sit in it. All of a sudden he knew what he was going to do, and he hastened upstairs and made his preparations. Back downstairs on the sofa he lay and wanked, heart pounding in excitement as the need to take a dump grew stronger and stronger. He pulled down his tracksuit bottoms and knelt down on the floor in his boxer briefs, psyching himself up to take a shit there and then; anticipating how good it would feel when he finally let go. Then he had an idea. He stood up trembling in anticipation, pulled his pants back up and went through to the kitchen. The dog stirred in his basket as he went to the back door, and then out into the garden. It was dark and freezing cold, and completely silent. He couldn't even hear the usual hum of traffic on the town bypass. He glanced around at the neighbours' houses, but he knew the family on one side was away and on the other side the curtains were drawn tight. No-one could see him. Even so, he drew back into the shadows.

'Ooh I need a shit,' he whispered to himself, his breath condensing in front of him. 'Ooh ... oh fuck...'

He pawed at his cock as he stood, breathing hard, squirming a little in his desperation. Then suddenly he could wait no longer. He pulled his tracksuit bottoms down round his thighs, bent his knees and stuck his bottom out. For a second or two he was conscious of the cold, and then his body took over, he gave in to the overpowering urge inside him, and gasped out loud as he relieved himself. His log was thick and solid, and it pushed the back of his pants out into a big tent before it collapsed and spread across his right cheek, then his left, and down between his legs.

'Ah ... ah ... oh!'

He pushed a bit and did a load more, all hot and slimy on his bottom in delicious contrast to the cold nipping at his legs. His pants were full and heavy, and the smell around him in the still air. He heard voices then; a couple of lads walking down the path that passed the back of the garden, and he shrank further back into the shadows even though the high fence hid him from view. As the footsteps went by he pushed out the rest of his shit, feeling exquisitely naughty, and reached round to finger the big lumpy bulge he'd made. He straightened up then, wanking through his pants, and headed inside. Back in the warmth of the house he peeled off his clothes as he made his way upstairs, with his vapour trail following him and his turds pushing exquisitely around on his bottom and the sensitive bit just behind his balls. In his bedroom he admired what he'd done in the mirror, and took a couple of photos. He'd thought he'd finished shitting, but then as he gave a little push he realised there was still more to come, so he went through to the bathroom, where he fumbled his hard cock out of his pants and held it over the bath. He breathed in, pursed his lips, and strained.

'Oh ... oh fucking hell!'

Piss trickled and spurted from his cock as his shit forced its lumpy way out of him, packed his crack and spread further across his cheeks. He couldn't believe how much he was doing, and he yelped and moaned in ecstasy as he kept on shitting and the smell grew more and more potent. He was near to cumming by the time he finally finished, and whilst he calmed down he went back to his bedroom, took another picture or two and admired himself in the mirror once more. Then the urge to sit in it gripped him. He scuttled back to the bathroom, wiggling his filthy bum, put down the toilet lid and lowered himself down. He held still as his shit touched the wooden seat and rocked to and fro, teasing himself and gasping again as his lumpy mess nudged to and fro. His cock was dribbling and twitching in excitement. Then he gave in and sat in his brown pile.

'Oh! Oh!'

The sensation drove him wild. He rocked and bounced and wriggled from side to side, spreading hot shit all over his bottom and up between his legs, crying out with pleasure. He calmed down a little, sniffing at the stink he'd made, and reached for the poppers bottle. As he leaned back another lump squashed up to his balls and drew an ecstatic yelp from him. The poppers turned him on even more and he began to move again, rocking to and fro and side to side, moaning out loud. He sat there in his shit for a long, long time, alternately moving and squishing until he was nearly cumming and then relaxing with dark, filthy fantasies racing through his mind. He wanted to get dirtier; filthier than he'd ever been before. He wanted his face covered in shit. Suddenly he stood up, stepped forward onto the plastic bag he'd put ready, and pulled down his pants. As he stepped out of them he twisted round and looked in the mirror at his bottom, almost completely covered in sticky brown shit. Momentarily he wished he'd brought his camera through to the bathroom with him. Then the urge seized him again and he picked up his destroyed pants and put them on the toilet seat, pulling them back to expose the great, compacted brown lump he'd done. He knelt down, took another hit of poppers and held his face in close, so close that he could feel the warmth of his shit and the stink roared up his nose.

'Oh God,' he breathed. 'Fuck...'

His head was whirling as he teetered on the brink, willing himself to stuff his face in his shit, even open his mouth and try to eat it. His cock pulsed in his hand and dribbled on the floor. He leaned in again, sniffed deeply and sighed. Closer he went and closer, until his face was so nearly touching it and the stink overwhelmed him. Closer still ... and he came. He couldn't stop himself. His head jerked back, and he cried out once more as his cum spattered against the wall.

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