Adventures Of A Scat Slut Pt 03

I was driving home from the supermarket one day shortly after Tasha's visit, cursing having drunk that third cup of coffee before leaving my apartment. I'd forgotten just what coffee can do to me, how it can suddenly make me need to shit like instantly. I was also cursing the fact that I was feeling horny before I left and went to the store wearing only a short dress and no panties. This was nothing out of the ordinary for me and walking around the store like that gave me the usual thrills. I kept squatting down to look at items on the bottom-most shelves, my dress riding up my legs until my pussy was almost exposed. I remember in the soup aisle reaching for a can of cream of mushroom and a stockman pushing a lorry down the aisle piled with boxes of pasta suddenly slowed and stared at my pussy area. I swiveled on my heels to give him a better look, but he never said anything and didn't try to come on to me, so that was it for him. Besides, he was kind of worse for wear and scruffy, not exactly the type I could picture fucking me with abandon or whose cock I was dying to suck. Too bad, because I was starting to feel super excited.

But now I was driving home, rocking back and forth on the seat, straining to prevent having a bowel movement. Why the fuck couldn't I be wearing slacks and panties, I would just shit away in them to my heart's content! Nothing unusual about that, either; I'd done that before, sometimes on purpose just for the fun of it. I loved the way it felt piling up in my panties, all that shit squishing against my ass. I'd make sure all the windows were closed so none of the delicious aroma would escape. Sometimes I'd plan this ahead of time, like in the parking lot at the mall or local park, but other times I'd do it while driving. It could get so distracting that I would have to stop, just pull over to the curb or whatever, and just yield to the moment and enjoy it to the max. But in order to do a panty poop you had to be wearing panties, and I wasn't. If I took a shit now it would ruin my dress, which I could live with, but it would also destroy my car seat, which was cloth and not vinyl. No, I was only about five minutes from home now, and I was just going to have to make it in time.

I parked the car in the driveway next to my apartment, jumped out, and made a dash for the stairs leading up to it. I'd been thinking about this for the last few minutes, and now it was decision time: Once inside should I race for the toilet? That would be the most obvious thing to do, the most prudent, but seeing I was alone under these circumstances, fuck no, that was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to enjoy this in the messiest way possible. How about jump in the tub or just hang my ass over the side and shit there? Much better, I thought. Shit in the bathroom sink? Not bad, either; there was novelty to that and not so routine as the tub. What about the kitchen sink? Now that was way out of the ordinary and seemed the vilest of my choices and the hottest option of all! The door from outside leads into the kitchen, so maybe the kitchen sink it would be. This was going to be super wild and dirty!

But when I came through the door and entered the room, I saw in the dish drainer a large porcelain serving bowl I had used to cut some fruit up in earlier and washed, and instantly had the best idea of all. I grabbed it, plunked it on the kitchen table, which fortunately was empty, quickly threw my dress off over my head, got up on a chair, positioned my ass over the bowl, and immediately shit a long and juicy log into it. Another turd followed, almost as long and fat, and then a third one. The bowl was filled with beautiful smelly shit, and I was ecstatic!

The physical relief I felt was instant, of course. I took my sandals off and threw them on the floor, sat cross-legged on the table, and put the bowl of shit between my legs and soaked up the moment. The odor was intoxicating and I breathed it in deeply. I poked my logs with a finger, pushing it in deeper with each stab. Some parts of it were mushier than others, and the firmer segments looked perfect to suck on. I broke a small piece off one and put it in my mouth. Mmm, delicious! That euphoric feeling, you know what I'm talking about, was starting to kick in and take me to ecstatic places of pure emotion. I swished the morsel around and dribbled it out in the bowl. I knew my next move was to spread this lovely creamy shit all over my body, so maybe I should just go to the bathtub and start treating myself. But I had done that there so many times already, maybe it was time to try someplace new. Someplace you wouldn't think of doing such a thing. Like right where I was now. Why not plaster myself with this near-black gold right here on the kitchen table!

My mind started racing, taking my imagination with it. I thought with a new location, why not try a new procedure! I picked up a good-sized handful from the bowl and instead of smearing it on my tits, perhaps my favorite place to have shit spread on me, the sensations being so enthralling for me there, I decided to pick a new initial spot. While holding the handful of shit right under my nose smelling it deeply, I once again contemplated my options. Should I go right for my pussy, my second favorite place for shit-smearing? How about my face? I loved rubbing shit all over my face like I'm washing it with soap and then slipping my fingers in my mouth. What about my limbs, my arms or my legs, slather them up like I was putting sunscreen on them?

But then I just looked down a bit and saw what would be perfect. The way I was sitting they were right there in front of my eyes. Sometimes in the tub I would finish a solo session and realize I had never even thought about them, and they remained hardly touched. My feet! I'd start with my feet and totally smear them in shit, even suck my toes. With my legs still crossed I plopped the handful of shit on the ankle of one of them and then slowly spread it around all over the instep and heel, underneath on the sole, and finally the toes. It felt so marvelous and when I had the toes thoroughly coated, lifted my foot up to my lips and began sucking each one. I filled my mouth up with the slightly bitter shit and dribbled it out on my thighs and my pussy.

My imagination was becoming inflamed with ever wilder pictures, of more and more extreme visualizations of how I was pampering and pummeling (yes, they can be the same, as you well know) my body with the shit before me, and I began rubbing my foot all over my face. Wanting more and more I covered it up in shit again and violently smeared it all over my face and tongue. I stuck my toes, all five of them at once, into my mouth and sucked them. I then did the same thing to the other foot. I stopped once to catch my breath and howl toward the ceiling, and suddenly realized I had imprisoned myself on the table now that my feet were shit-covered. I couldn't get down without carting shit all over the floor wherever I walked. That in itself was exciting, the mess I would make all over, not caring an iota, totally consumed by it everywhere. Fuck the major cleanup I would have to conduct; begone you practical intruders to my nasty dirty fantasy!

So I lay back on the table and decided, since I was going to be here for a while, it was time to get filthy, really filthy everywhere. With the bowl resting next to me I reached in and took out the biggest log and put it on my tits, right between them like it was a cock fucking me there. Then I grabbed another log and put it on my pussy. The last log was going to be for wiping on my face so I just left it in the bowl until I was ready for it. There were still a few remnants left so I plopped them on my belly. Now it was time to start spreading.

I started at my pussy, holding the log in my hand and spreading it all over my bush (it's a little one that I keep well-trimmed) and labia and lower belly; I have a rose tattoo about five inches southeast of my bellybutton and that was soon covered. Then I did my thighs before rolling onto my hip so I could smear my ass; this part got my full attention, not wanting to leave an inch of it bare. Over and over I massaged my ass, all across the cheeks and deep into my crevice, my eyes closed most of the time, almost purring like a cat. After several minutes I realized the log had been decimated, and I rolled onto my back again.

Next I grabbed the turd on my tits and just mushed it up in both hands and plastered it on me, pressing it hard into my skin, massaging it into me like I was at a spa getting a deep body treatment. Up to my neck and all around it my hands roved, my skin turning a luxurious dark-brown everywhere I touched. The feeling, as always, was incredible, especially on my pert, firm tits, my hands caressing them around and around.

Finally, I picked up the log I'd saved for my face, which was the most dense and compact of my turds, and slid it in my mouth to suck on. Firm logs are often the ones that have the least pungent taste, at least until they've been sucked on for a while and their juices released. So when I put it in my mouth there was little taste to speak of, no bitterness or acridity or anything to make you think you were sucking on a piece of shit. Again I closed my eyes and derived pure pleasure from what I was doing. After my saliva began to soften it, I took it out and rubbed it on my face, everywhere. When it was completely coated, I ran my hands through my hair several times, streaking my honey-blonde locks in poop. Except for the center of my back I was totally covered now.

Okay, Rita, I said to myself, let's really start to go wild. Get that imagination cranked up into full gear. With one hand circling my pussy touching myself, the other caressing my tits, I closed my eyes and fluttered off. I pictured somebody crashing through the kitchen door, seeing me like this, calling me a filthy scat slut while ripping his clothes off, and after he was naked, scooping up handfuls of shit off me with which to bury his massive pre-cum dribbling cock and fuck me, first my ass and then my cunt. But before anything he would crouch down over my face and make me hold my mouth open so he could shit into it, and when it was full keep shitting all over my face and then sit on it smushing it all over me with his ass which he would make me lick clean, especially his asshole. Deep up his shit-spurting asshole my tongue would penetrate.

Of course it was Dr. Cramer doing this to me, and I screamed that he should keep shitting on me and not stop, I want more of him, and when he was done fucking both my shit-filled holes to put his bursting cock in my mouth and fill it with his cum and shoot it all over my face, drown me in his cum. That was when I shook on the kitchen table and climaxed, my fingers bringing me off perfectly. I just lay there catching my breath, closing my eyes one last time to conjure up the final image of Dr. Cramer, of Philip, collapsing on top of me into my arms sighing "Rita, Rita" several times, "That was wonderful!" Of course it was, Philip, Rita knows.