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 One
It was a bright, sunny afternoon as Liam walked to work, across the town centre and the housing estate, through a small wood and then along the river bank, to the industrial estate on the far side of town. He wasn't looking forward to his twelve-hour night shift in the factory – the work was boring, and his arms and back would be aching by the end of it – but it was only for another few weeks, and then he'd be off back to university. The money was pretty good, especially for the night shift, and he'd managed to pay his overdraft off over the summer break. Besides, it was a big place and a lot of the staff – permanent and temps like him – were young guys. He'd made a couple of good mates working there, and had a bit of fun too. He smiled to himself as he remembered how just the other week he'd sucked off a horny, 'straight' Polish lad in his car during the evening meal break. He'd been admiring that guy's toned body for ages; and the pert arse of the tall blonde student who sometimes worked next to him on the line. At nineteen years old he was still pretty much permanently horny, and the factory provided him with endless young guys to admire, fantasise about, and once or twice even get fucked by. The very thought had his dick stiffening slightly in his pants.
As he ambled through the streets of boxy little houses he felt a familiar, welcome sensation inside him; a stirring in his bowels that told him he was going to need a shit soon. He got a little more turned on as he walked, turning over in his mind what he might do. He could disappear into the wood, bare his bottom and squat down, and feel deliciously naughty as his turds dropped to the ground. He fingered the tissues in his pocket, which he'd brought with him for just that purpose. Or he could hold it and go at work. That always turned him on too, doing it with other guys in the room who could hear and sometimes even smell what he'd done, and better still hearing one of the other lads dropping his load. He'd wanked in a cubicle one morning the previous week, when he was on the day shift, sitting in the middle of the three cubicles with a guy on either side farting and plopping and grunting. That manly sound always got his dick hard and the fantasies flowing.
Liam could normally control the urge to shit for an hour or two at least, and he wasn't desperate, but the faintly horny pressure in his bowels grew stronger as he walked through the woods. He farted softly, and stopped to sniff at his aroma hanging in the still air. He liked the smell of his own farts. His dick twitched, and he looked and listened around him. He was completely alone. Decided, he ducked off the path between the bushes and picked his way through the trees for a minute until he came to a little open space by a tumbledown dry-stone wall. He looked around him and listened once more, then unbuckled his belt and slid his old jeans and boxer shorts to his knees. He squatted down slowly, liking the sensation of the cool breeze on his bottom, with his heart beating a little faster. Inside him his shit began to move, and he grunted softly in pleasure and satisfaction as it slid slowly down the chute. His hole pushed open and he began doing a thick, sturdy log. He listened intently to that soft little noise as it came out, then looked down between his legs at its glistening, lumpy length hanging from him. He could feel it starting to break, and then his load lightened suddenly as it dropped and hit the ground with a little rustling thud. The smell rose slowly around him. He gave a little strain and began pushing out the turd still jutting from him, grunting again with the sensation as it curled from him, and grew into another thick column before dropping another fat log right by the first. He sighed and pushed out the last cone-shaped end. He looked down between his legs at what he'd done; those sturdy turds he always did, vivid golden-brown against the dark earth. Then he began to piss, and he held his semi-flaccid dick down so as not to wet his jeans. As it began to tail off he felt another turd starting to work its way down the chute, and he closed his eyes happily as it slid slowly out. He still had more to come; his shits were almost always big and healthy, and on the toilet he took his time over it. Another couple of lumps dropped from his flaring hole as he squatted there by the wall, over the big pile he'd so enjoyed making. Eventually he fumbled in his pocket for the tissues. He wiped standing up, bending his knees and sticking his bottom out. His solid shit hadn't left him very dirty, and it just took a couple of wipes to get himself clean. As he tucked his semi back into his pants and pulled up his trousers he looked down at what he'd done, and then he took one last lingering sniff, and headed back towards the path.
All that night his mind kept drifting off into kinky fantasies whilst he worked. It was too noisy to talk much with his co-workers, and when the line was busy there wasn't much time for chat anyway. He wondered dully how many hundreds of boxes he'd packed that week. Then Janusz, the hot Polish guy who'd got his thick cock out and fucked Liam's mouth until he was gagging and fighting to swallow his spunk bent over to pick something up from the floor, and the sight of his sturdy arse sent Liam off into a daydream again. They hadn't really acknowledged one another since it had happened, but that hadn't stopped Liam fantasising about him; being fucked by him; dominated by him; bent over his knee and spanked hard. Then one evening he'd recognised his shoes under the partition between two cubicles, when he came in as Liam was sitting, having just curled out the big shit he'd been holding for hours. The big, grunting, splashy dump he took and the meaty smell he left had sent Liam off into even kinkier fantasies. He wanted to be a toilet. He grew hard under his overalls as in his imagination he lay spread-eagled on the floor, moaning and wanking as Janusz took a huge shit all over his twinky face.
His run of night shifts ended on the Thursday, and the following morning his parents and his younger sister went away for a long weekend. He'd have the house to himself for three whole days, and he wasn't working either. He went out with his mates on the Friday night for a curry and a load of beer, and ended up stumbling out of the town meat-market in the early hours and into the nearby kebab shop. He woke up the next morning with a pounding head, but after an aspirin and a strong coffee he started to feel better. Hangovers always left him horny, and a bit later he logged on to a porn video site he used from time to time. Someone had put up a crop of videos shot in a public toilet via a camera on the floor, and he stroked his stiffening cock as he watched and listened to a lad in trainers and shorts drop a big splashy load in the next cubicle. He opened another video. Some young guy was standing with his back to the camera, naked except for a pair of tight, stripy trunks. He shuffled uncomfortably, breathing hard, then stuck his bum out towards the camera and put his hands on his knees.
'Oh I gotta take a big shit,' he breathed. 'Ah ... ah, here it comes!'
The lad yelped and sighed as he shat himself. With every push and grunt and buck of his hips the bulge in his pants crackled and swelled up further, with the stripes showing off its lumps and bumps.
'Oh yeah!' gasped the lad. 'Oh that fuckin' stinks!'
Liam was rock hard. He'd fantasised about shitting himself for years; especially being made to do it, and having to do it in front of other guys. He daydreamed about being dominated by a guy who made him wear a nappy until he messed himself and then spanked him hard for doing so. The first time he'd actually done it the feeling was so awesome that he came even before he'd finished shitting. He didn't often get time enough on his own, but even so he'd done it several times since, and every time the sensation and the sense of shame had blown his mind. Then he'd made himself sit in it, like he'd seen a guy in a video do: the mess had been horrendous, but the orgasm was so intense he'd actually cried out. His heart beat faster as he imagined what might happen when the inevitable need to take a dump came on.
He went and had a shower and something to eat, and went out to run a few errands. He'd resisted the temptation to wank earlier and he was madly horny and drifting off into fantasies. He was eyeing up the lad in front of him in the check-out queue at the supermarket when he felt the pressure in his bowels. It was only faint yet, but it made his cock tingle all the same. In his mind's eye he was suddenly naked apart from his pants, squirming in desperation as a group of horny guys taunted him, until finally he gave in and dirtied himself. He'd be punished for that, too; bent over and caned hard on his messy bottom. He was so distracted that he drove right past the house on the way home, and had to turn around at the end of the street and come back. Quickly he unloaded his shopping from the car, stooping slightly to hide the bulge in his shorts, and scuttled inside.
He farted softly a couple of times as he pottered around the house, making his preparations and psyching himself up to what he was going to do. Each time he stopped and sniffed at the smell rising up around him. The need to shit sat heavy in his bowels; a dull urge that slowly grew more insistent and made his stiff cock twitch with excitement.
'Oh I need a shit!' he whispered to himself. 'I'm gonna do such a big shit soon...'
He padded up to his room and stripped naked. He couldn't help noticing his bubbly arse in the long mirror as he pulled down his pants, and stroke his cock as he contemplated what it would soon look like! He fumbled in his drawer and found a pair of boxer briefs; old ones that he didn't mind throwing away when he'd had his fun, but still tight around his bottom and thighs as he pulled them up. He wanked slowly through the grey fabric, and lay down on his bed with fantasies racing through his mind as the exquisite pressure inside him grew stronger and stronger, until he was moaning in anticipation. He stood up slowly, trembling all over, and stood before the mirror with his hands on his knees, legs bent and bum sticking out towards it. His arsehole was hurting now as he fought to hold back a bit longer, and his hard-on was pulsing. He gave in, and as his shit began to move. It slid ecstatically down his chute like a great brown glacier, and his hole began to open.
'Oh my God! Oh!'
He passed the point of no return. He was shitting himself now, a thick lumpy stream forcing its way out between his cheeks and beginning to spread across his bum. He twisted round to watch in the mirror as his pants bulged out, first one way and then another as his turd piled up, and then the smell hit him. He was close to cumming when it finally came to an end, and forced himself to stand a few seconds and calm down, before he gave another grunt and heave, and a whimper of pleasure as he began doing more. His crack was packed, and the slimy hotness spread across his cheeks. He moaned out loud as it tailed off and straightened up, gasping. His pants were heavy and the pile was pressing against his bottom and balls and the sensitive bit in between, giving him exquisite sensations as he moved. He reached around and touched it, all lumpy and firm, and as he did so he groaned as another turd slid down the chute and the bulge swelled up a little more beneath his fingers.
The smell hung heavily around him as he stood there, taking in the sensation. He still had more to come, he realised, but as he pushed he felt himself starting to piss. He straightened up again, wiggled his bottom a little and moaned as his turds rubbed on his skin, and felt around his thighs to check that his pants weren't about to leak. They weren't, so he set off for the bathroom. Walking in his filled pants felt amazing, and even better when he stopped on the landing, bent over to push his load more firmly against him, and squatted to make it tickle his balls. He was whimpering by the time he got to the bathroom. His cock was rock hard, and he had to half squat and hold it down to avoid missing the toilet as he pissed. He felt his bowels starting to stir again.
'Ooh ... uh ... oh fuck! Oh! Oh!'
The sensation as he finished his shit was incredible, so good that he almost came immediately. He stood up straight as that last surge of turds ended, leaving his bowels empty and relieved and him trembling all over. He forced himself to calm down as he reached around behind him and felt the mound in his pants, all lumpy and firm and warm beneath his fingers. He'd filled his pants big time, he whispered to himself; he'd taken a big bulky shit in his pants, and it felt amazing. He stood and wiggled his bum, whimpering ecstatically and sniffing at his own stink.
Then the urge to sit in it hit him. He put down the toilet lid, turned around and lowered himself down until his shit touched the surface and pressed against his skin. He held it there for a second, rocking gently back and forth, teasing himself with it, and then very slowly he sat right down.
'Oh! Oh fuck that's so good!'
His shit went everywhere, all warm and firm and slimy as it spread across his bottom and forced its way up around his balls. For a few seconds he lost control completely and rocked and bounced and wriggled, moaning out loud, until he was nearly cumming, and once again he had to force himself to stop and calm down. He fumbled his cock out of his flies, reached for the little bottle of poppers he'd brought with him, took a deep sniff, and wriggled again, whimpering aloud with his head rushing. He sat there for a long time. Playing with shit always turned him on so much that his cock would twitch and bounce up and down without him even touching it. Now he rocked and wriggled around until he was edging madly, then drew back and relaxed, sitting in his big shit in contented ecstasy. He did it again and again. As he sat there he began to fantasise again; dark, dirty fantasies about doing this with someone who then made him take his dirty pants off and stuff his face into them. He wanted to do it now. He half-stood, wanking hard, psyching himself up to pull down his pants and take his play to the next level. One more squish, he told himself; he had to sit in it one last time. He sat back down firmly, his shit squashed everywhere, and that tipped him over the edge. His vision went blurry and he cried out aloud as his cum fired right across the room.
He was back on day shifts for the last couple of weeks before he went back to university. He preferred that to the night shift. The money wasn't so good, but the place was busier and the people who worked the day shift were a more sociable lot, and he could have a laugh with some of the other lads. The toilets were better in the day too. He made a point of going for a piss when he arrived at the factory, and often heard and smelled someone having an early-morning shit, and even though he usually needed to go in the afternoons he often went and sat in a cubicle for a bit during his breakfast break. Every morning for a week he could sit and listen as some young guy took a dump right next to him, and every time it got him hard. Best of all was when he looked below the partition as the cubicle door to his right closed, and recognised the tracksuit bottoms of that tall student he'd always fancied, and who was now working the day shift along with him. He sounded in a hurry as he pulled down his trousers and sat down.
'Plop ... plop ... plomp-plomp-plop-plomp-plop.'
He was alone after the lad left, and could resist ducking into his cubicle to admire the big skidmarks he'd left and sniff deeply at the slightly sharp, dirty smell he'd left behind. For the rest of the day he admired the lad surreptitiously as they worked, and his dick hardened as he remembered what he'd heard him do. During the afternoon he started to need a shit himself, and the mounting pressure in his bowels turned him on even more. Eventually he made his excuses and went to the toilet. The middle cubicle was already occupied when he got there, and his face reddened a little at the thought of whoever was in it listening to what he was doing.
'Plop! Plop! Plop!'
Water splashed up on his bottom as his thick turds hit the water. He sat there amid the smell, thinking, idly stroking his semi-hard cock. A couple of evenings before he'd been knocking about on porn websites and found one with loads of gay scat and voyeur videos. He'd been toying with the idea of making a few of his own since then, and as he finished his shit he turned over in his mind the prospect of videoing himself as he filled his pants. He'd also updated the profile he had on a gay scat website, and spotted a few guys in the city where his university was whom he might try and contact when he got back there. After all, he'd been into this for as long as he could remember: it was about time he tried to put some of his fantasies into practice! Then the door to the toilets opened, jolting him back to reality. He'd been here several minutes and he really ought to get back to work, or he'd have the chargehand on his case. He reached for the toilet paper, stood up, and began to wipe his arse.
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