A while back, there was a thread on how some of us had developed our interest in scat. Here's my story.
When I was younger -- in fact, all the way through high school -- I was pretty disgusted by all bodily functions. I hated the smell of shit and felt ashamed of the act of shitting. No matter how desperate I was for a crap, I would never "go" if anyone else was using one of the stalls. If someone came in for a piss, I would stop dumping until they left. Likewise, I would stop dumping if someone came in to take a shit -- I would wait until they had finished their business before resuming my dump. I was pretty sure that they would assume that my slowness was simply due to constipation. But, the truth was that I had a deep fear of being "discovered" in the act of defecation. In short, I had a really fucked-up attitude toward what was, in fact, a perfectly natural part of being a human being.
Things changed, however, when I went off to college where, because I was living in a dorm, I was no longer able to take a private shit in the morning (as I had at home). I had a choice: crap at the dorm first thing or hold off until after the first class and crap in the college bathroom. Either way, it would not be possible to guarantee a private crap.
In the event, I generally chose to hold off until after the first class, if only because I enjoyed the feeling of my need to crap building up during the first class. I would then rush to the bathroom to be one of the first to grab a stall (if you were late, you would have to wait in front of the stalls and then everyone would know that you were waiting to do the nasty -- a public revelation my fucked-up mind could not take).
However, as time went on, I found myself starting to get a kick of "publicly" crapping. I noticed that the more studly guys would come in, drop their pants and start loudly dumping and farting away without a care in the world (they would even sometimes chat with a buddy who was also on the can). I naturally was envious of their carefree attitude, and I found myself starting to enjoy the act of simply letting go and the sound of my turds dropping and splashing in the bowl being heard by everyone else. It seemed so natural and I began to feel "cured" of my fucked-upness.
In my mind, a barrier had been breached. I had always been turned on by the sight of a guy's pants and briefs down at his ankles while he was sitting on the can. But, now I started breathing in the stink of the guys crapping all around me and I found myself really enjoying it. It became my favorite smell. Whether I needed a crap or not, I would always head to the bathroom and occupy a stall, just to be surrounded by the stink.
Before long, I realised that I could use a magazine to disguise stroking my hard cock while I sat on the can, listening to and smelling the defecation taking place around me.
I started having increasingly elaborate fantasies about the guy in the next stall (if I thought he was a stud).
I would fantasize kneeeling before him, with my head lodged between his thighs. In the fetid darkness, I would be breathing in the stink of his crap as he dumped away. The fantasies developed, of course. And it wasn't long before I found myself fantasizing about licking his butt clean when he'd finished crapping. And, then, of course, I found myself simply wanting to be his personal toilet, devouring all the piss and shit he could excrete.
As the fantasies became stronger and stronger, my dick would become harder and harder. Consumed by my fantasies, I developed the ability to silently jackoff and cum while sitting on the can, enveloped in the shitstink of the guys around me. I'm pretty sure that sometimes the guy in the next stall would know that I was jacking off. But, nothing was ever said. The guy presumeably thought that I was just so horny that I couldn't wait until I got home. Little did he know that I was fantasizing about eating the very turds dropping out of his butt!!
And then my life changed forever. I was late to the bathroom and had to wait for a stall. My turn came and the next available stall was vacated by the studliest guy in my class ( an arrogant wrestler who was the very epitomy of confident heterosexual masculinity ). A brief, and very neutral, exchange of glances between us and I found myself in the stall where he had just taken his dump.
I looked down into the bowl and saw a small round turd that had not been flushed away. It had to have been his. I found myself excited beyond belief. And I knew -- just knew -- that I had to "have" this turd. Most of you, I'm sure, will exactly understand this feeling. It's a craving that seems to come from nowhere. But, once in your mind, it grips you completely. You feel faint as you find yourself completely consumed by this desire to intimately connect with the stud through his shit.
I found myself trembling as I sat down on the can. I knew exactly what I was about to do.
I waited a minute or so as I calmed down and built up the courage. And then I reached one of my hands down between my legs and into the toilet bowl. I fished around for the turd and found it quickly.
After shaking my hand of excess water, I lifted my hand up and rested it palm-upwards in my lap, my gaze completely focussed on the small knobbly turd. With my other hand, I did my best to hold up a magazine so that noone would be able to even guess what I was up to if they snuck a peek though the thin, narrow vertical space between the door and the frame.
I was mesmerized. And, in my mind, I became the toilet of the hunky wrestler who had just left. I'm gazing upwards at his buttcheeks spread apart. His hairy hole is above my mouth. The turd is poking out as I raise my mouth to accept this gift of the God of masculinity. With my mouth firmly planted on his shit-stinky hole, he grunts and the turd plops into my mouth.
The fantasy is overwhelmimg and I'm completely unable to stop raising his real turd to my mouth. There is not the slightest hesitation as I stuff it into my mouth. I only half notice it's rough texture and slightly acrid taste. My mind is far more focussed on visualizing eating this stud's shit direct from his hole. I'm worshipping everything this guy is -- his very soul. My dick is harder than it has ever been in my life. It feel like it's going to explode. I munch down on his turd and find myself going over the brink. I'm berserk with lust, and, with only one stroke of my dick, I start cumming in torrents, one wrenching orgasm after the other. I'm squealing in my zeal to stay silent, but I know that I must have been heard. I faintly hear a few snickers, but my cock keeps pumping out jism, drenching the front of my shirt. I almost lose consciousness as I slump backwards.
Coming to, I feel this wave of nausea overtake me as I feel and taste the masticated remains of his turd in my mouth. Instinctively, I spread my legs apart and start spitting the remains of his turd into the bowl below. Even as I begin this cleanup phase (the first of many!), I know that I have just had the most powerful experience of my life. Despite the disgust I am then experiencing, the whole thing feels incredibly right. I have truly found my direction in life. I am finally home.
....well, that's my story. It went on way longer than I thought it would. But, I felt this need to share -- and I'm glad I did.