Adventures Of A Scat Slut Pt 12

My phone buzzed a few minutes after I curled up on my sofa having just concluded a very messy, totally satisfying solo scat session in my tub. It was Francene.

"Hey, girl," she said, "I have a terrific proposition for you that I'm pretty sure you're going to like."

"Oh, Fran," I replied. "You should have called me an hour ago if you wanted to come over and scat with me -- I just got finished cleaning myself up and the tub after a solo session."

"No, that's not it," she responded, and then added, "You mean you flew solo knowing I'm just sitting here by myself and would have loved to join you? Are you mad at me about something?"

"No, Fran, I'm not mad at you. It was just a last minute impulse to get filthy, that's all. I should have called. Now I feel bad."

"Well, that's okay, don't go beating yourself up too much. It would have been fun, though. Maybe my proposition will seem even more appealing now."

"What's that?"

"How would you like to go on a scat cruise?"

"A what?" I had no idea what she was talking about.

"A scat cruise. Vincent wants Wayne and me to go and check one out, see if it's something he could add to his business pursuits. He would go himself but gets seasick really bad, so is having Wayne go instead."

"And you just begged him to let you go, too?" I chuckled. "You got a thing for scatting with Wayne?"

Sounding just a tad puffed up, she answered, "As Vincent's chief assistant he relies on my judgment in all things business related, so there was no begging on my part. And Wayne's not so bad, as you know. He can be a lot of fun getting messy with."

"And you want me to go with you?"

"Yeah, Rita. If you're not busy, we could have a great time."

Francene by this time had become one of my favorite scatting partners; any opportunity that allowed us to be together in that capacity was intriguing. "So, tell me a little about these cruises. I never heard of them."

"Most people haven't, not even scat lovers. They're not the kind of thing where you call your travel agent and say, 'I'd like to book a ticket on the next scat cruise out of Florida, please,' because they probably wouldn't know what you were talking about. It requires a bit of discretion, even detective work, to arrange passage on one."

"Sounds like they might be sleazy," I said. "You know, old leaky tugboats that even the rats have long abandoned, certain to sink before they leave the harbor."

"No, Rita, not at all. These are on fancy state-of-the-art cruise ships. A small section of the ship is totally cordoned off from the rest, completely private, with its own pool, sundecks, staterooms, restaurant, and lounges. Granted, none as big as the others on the ship, except for the staterooms, but they seem adequate enough to satisfy most passengers. That's one of the things Vincent wants us to find out."

"How many people?"

"Here's the good part, girl," intoned Francene. "Up to 75 can be accommodated, adults only of course! Can you imagine, baby? Seventy-five scat fiends all together on a cruise ship getting filthy to their heart's content! I've been told near the end of the cruise, which lasts six days, there's a big party on board, a giant scat orgy. That right there makes it all worthwhile, even if we get caught in a fucking hurricane!"

"What do you mean?"

"It's in the Caribbean, love, out of Miami."

I thought for a second and said, "Oh well, that's okay. I know how to swim. Yeah, Fran, count me in. I'd love to go!"

We flew to Miami the day before the cruise was set to depart. Francene and I spent a good part of the roughly three-hour flight discussing our favorite topic, this time the scat fun one could enjoy on a commercial airplane flight, things someone could possibly do scat-wise and avoid getting in trouble. Panty poops as the plane was landing ranked high on the list; we got ourselves so excited talking about defecating just as the wheels made touchdown, that sudden bump of rubber onto concrete coinciding perfectly with the initial release of shit into our panties and over our asses, that we almost climaxed right there in our seats! Luckily the flight attendant, a gorgeous Latina, was occupied elsewhere or she may have suspected something was up with us. But then we discussed her, too, and fantasized she loved panty poops as well and would be happy to join us in the fun. We would all share our panty loads later at the hotel. Without a doubt it was one of the pleasantest flights I've ever taken, and it seemed we were in Miami in no time.

We reported to where the ship was docked the next day and were directed to a special boarding area. We were taken through a privacy gate to our stateroom, which was typical of what you'd find on any cruise ship, only instead of a rug on the floor there was plastic sheathing from wall to wall; the mattresses on both beds were also protected with plastic, and the closet was stacked with extra linens. In other words, it had been prepared knowing that messy scat play would be occurring. The staff worker showing us around told us that there'd be a brief meet-and-greet on the deck next to the pool shortly after the ship sailed. Clothes were optional. I was happy to hear that because other than what I was wearing right then and a change of underwear for the flight home I didn't have any.

"Rita," Francene berated me when she found out. "What's wrong with you! Even I brought a cute little bikini and a minidress just in case."

"In case of what? It's a fucking scat cruise! Walking around naked all the time is half the fun." It turned out I was right. She had that dress on once for five minutes until someone said to her, "Why all covered up, Francene, is snow in the forecast?" and that was the last of that.

Wayne, who sometimes displayed an ego about the size of Mount Everest, thought about putting bathing trunks on "so as not to over-excite the ladies right from the git-go," but Francene and I made enough fun of him so that he changed his mind. ("There's lots of smelling salts on board if needed, I'm sure," Francene joked.) She and I, of course, stripped naked. A good crowd assembled near the pool, maybe 50-60 people; many looked to be couples and almost everyone was naked like us. A crew member gave a little welcoming speech, indicated that for some this wasn't their first cruise with them, and gave a special shout-out to two scat clubs consisting of about 10-12 people each.

He also introduced Tony and Adriana, who were there on their honeymoon! I thought we might not see them again for the rest of the cruise, like in that old movie with Jane Fonda and Robert Redford who get married and spend five days in their hotel suite never coming out, the newspapers piling up at the door, until Jane finally pops out half naked and Robert looks all worn out in his business suit heading off for work. Just so there's no doubt what they've been doing in there all that time. But I think everyone aboard ended up scatting with them at some point -- not with Jane and Robert, Tony and Adriana.

Some basic ground rules were laid out, most of them just common sense; one rule that wasn't in play that usually is where a pool is involved, was that swimming wasn't forbidden if you were covered in shit. A special drainage system on board could empty the pool in minutes and refill it almost as quickly (it was a salt water pool). Then we were told to do our thing and have fun. Chaise lounges, patio chairs, and a few leather couches were set up and people began to occupy them. I was feeling excited and tingly, like the first day at summer camp, thinking of all the things I wanted to do, not knowing what to do first.

Francene, Wayne, and I made our way to the other side of the pool, found some lounge chairs, and settled in. Wayne went to get us some drinks, and we noticed some people were beginning to scat already.

"Oh, my God!" I suddenly burst out to Francene. "Do you see that woman over there?"

"Where? You mean that woman sucking on that log on the couch?"

"What? No, not her, that's nothing to get excited about. The blonde one behind her to the right."

"Yeah, what about her."

"I've seen that woman, I'm sure you have, too, probably most of the people on this boat have. She's in scat movies made in Brazil. I'm sure of it. Same streaky blonde hair, tall, gorgeous figure, shaved pussy, and look at her ass -- do you know how long I've stared at that beautiful ass in her videos wishing my tongue was inside it? It's her all right."

"Could be," Francene admitted hesitantly. "Why would someone who makes scat movies go on a scat cruise, though, like a busman's holiday?"

"I don't know," I responded. "Maybe she's going to make a movie on board. Maybe we could be in it! Vincent would love that, don't you think?"

"Only if somehow his name could be plastered all over it, and I doubt the company she works for would be too crazy about that."

Wayne returned with the drinks and we sat talking. When we finished them, I said to Francene, "Come on, Fran, let's go over and introduce ourselves to that scat star. She's really turning me on." Francene agreed to go with me.

Wayne got up to come, too, but I told him a bit mockingly, "You better stay here for a bit; that eye-popping cock of yours might upset her if she's a lesbian. I don't remember ever seeing her on screen with a man."

"Okay," he replied, "but if you're going to go off, I was talking with someone when I was getting the drinks; I'm going to check her out again." And he walked away.

We started going over to her, but then I halted. "Suppose she doesn't speak English?" I said to Francene. "I've never heard her say anything on her videos except in Portuguese. You don't speak Portuguese by any chance?"

"Sorry, Rita," said Francene sarcastically. "I dated a Portuguese guy once but he didn't do too much talking, just a lot of slurping on my pussy, so I didn't pick up much of the lingo."

"I wonder what the word for 'shit' is in Portuguese?" I pondered.

"Just point to your ass and say 'Yum,' she'll get the idea."

Finally, we walked over to her. She was stretched out naked on a towel, resting on one elbow. "Hello," I said. "My name is Rita and this is Francene. I saw you and wanted to come over and tell you how much I like your scat movies. They're really hot."

She looked at me, then at Francene, like maybe we were crazy. I thought she didn't understand what I was saying, the fact I was speaking English. "I'm sorry," I said. "You probably don't speak English."

"What the hell is this I'm spoutin' if it ain't English, honey!" she suddenly replied.

That took me by surprise. "Oh, so you're not from Brazil?"

"Is that anywhere near Lubbock, Texas, because that's where I happen to be from. Lived there my whole life." Ah, boy, it looked like I made a huge mistake. I could feel Francene looking at me getting ready to burst out laughing any minute.

"Oh, jeez," I cringed, "I'm sorry, I have you mixed up with someone else. But I've got to tell you..." and I hesitated, hoping she would tell me her name...

"Hattie," she said.

"... I've got to tell you, Hattie, there's a scat queen in Brazil who's the spitting image of you and she's made some incredibly sexy scat videos. You don't have a twin sister, do you?"

She thought for a second and then said, "There's only one of me I know of, unless when my daddy run off when I was little he took her with him. Mama never said nothin' if he did."

"Well, I'm just mistaken then, I'm sorry. Are you here alone, Hattie?"

"No, Bernice is in our stateroom talkin' on the phone with some engineer in her fracking company about a problem that's come up. I think half of West Texas just sunk about ten feet and they're tryin' to figure out what to do about it."

"Oh, dear," I mumbled.

"It pisses me off!" bellowed Hattie, sitting up and very annoyed. "I took her on this scat cruise to get her away from that fuckin' frackin' company, not take it with us. I hope she knows I'm not just going to sit out here while she spends her whole time yakkin' away on the phone about oil issues!"

I waited for her to calm down a little and then said, "I've got to confess to you I was staring at you for quite a while when I thought you were that Brazilian scat queen, wanting to scat with you. Even though you're not her, I still want to scat with you. What do you say?"

"Sure!" she declared emphatically. Then looking at Francene she added, "You'll join in, too, Francene, right?"

We walked over to where a 9x12 rubber mat had been laid out. We knelt down and we all kissed several times, caressing one another, getting to know each other intimately. Hattie said to me, "So what is it about this Brazilian scat star turns you on so much?"

"Everything about her is tremendous," I said, "but, of course, it's her ass that gets me fingering myself the hardest."

Hattie lay down on her front and said, "You like my ass, too? Show me how much it turns you on." Her ass was beautiful, like a swimsuit model's. I reached out and touched her there, my fingers gliding across her smooth skin, slowly moving up and down her crack. Then my lips followed where my fingers had been, my tongue licking her cheeks, diving into her crevice to taste her sweat and muskiness. I held her cheeks apart and gazed at her asshole, that delicious chocolate rosebud-shaped wonder of the human body, and put my tongue on it, circling all around it, slurping it up. I stiffened my appendage and pushed it through her sphincter as far in as it could go.

"Mmm," Hattie purred. "Your tongue feels so good in my ass, Rita, so sexy; you're wonderful back there. Francene, come sit up here by my face and spread wide open so I can eat your pussy and asshole. Rita has me yearnin' to put my tongue into somethin' wet and delicious, too." She feasted on what Francene offered her, licking all around her openings, going from one to the other. "Your pussy is so juicy, Francene, and so sweet, like an over-ripe watermelon bathin' my face. I love it!"

"I need to pee, you two," Francene announced suddenly. "Ready or not." She arranged herself in a crab-like position using her hands and feet and opened her legs wide. The golden stream began slowly at first, but soon was surging into Hattie's mouth, forcing her to swallow rapidly to keep up with it. Then Francene angled higher and directed her piss over Hattie's head onto her back. It splattered all over her back and ass and splashed onto my tits and belly. I wiped the piss all over her back and leaned down into her to soak my tits and torso. I positioned my mouth so the last few seconds of Francene's flow went into my mouth and down my throat as well. When it ended, I knelt up over Hattie's back and released a stream of my own golden nectar over her back and ass and finally in her hair and onto Francene. We were all pretty drenched by then.

I slid off Hattie after hugging her and rubbing myself all over her sopping back, relishing the feel of the warm liquid on my front. I began to have a strong urge to defecate, farted a few times, and said to Hattie, "Turn over, babe, and I'll shit on your tits." She turned over quickly and grabbed her tits, caressing them, begging me to bury them in my shit and then spread it all over her. There would be no need to ask me twice to do that; I was already picturing it clearly in my mind. I crouched over her facing backwards and could feel a nice sized turd slide out through my sphincter and land on her tits, and then another one. Francene, leaning over Hattie's face, grabbed one of the logs and held it to her nose, sniffing it deeply, and then put it to Hattie's who also took deep whiffs of it. Finally, she put it in her mouth and sucked it.

"Do you want a taste?" she asked Hattie, her lips covered in dark-brown drool. "It's delicious, as Rita's scat always is."

"Yes, let me suck it while I smear the rest of this on my tits. Oh, fuck, this is so amazin'!"

Suddenly a naked woman approached and continued toward us until she stood with one foot on each side of Hattie's legs. She was in her mid-thirties, I'd guess, had fiery red hair and a pair of the bluest eyes I've ever seen; her tits were pert and toned, and she had a bush shaved into the shape of a five-pointed star. "Here you are, Hattie," she said. "I thought I lost you, you'd fallen overboard."

Hattie took my log she was sucking on out of her mouth and said, "Oh, Bernice, this is Rita and Francene; we're doin' what you're supposed to be doin' on a cruise like this, not talkin' on the goddam phone the whole time."

"I see," she said and moved closer, offering me that star-shaped bush to lick.

"Is that for the Lone Star State?" I asked, smiling.

"You bet, darling. You'd be surprised how many Texas millionaires go wild when they see that and how licking it and fucking it makes their checkbooks fly open to invest in my fracking company."

"I'm afraid I left my checkbook home," I said. "It's pretty bare, anyway."

She grinned and said, "That's okay, hon. Just lick it, I'm sure you'll give me way more pleasure than those Texas millionaires ever did."

"I'll lick it all right," I replied. "But I think you should give something in return."

She knew exactly what I was talking about, of course. "How about I do that on Hattie's pussy. All the while I was on the phone I could feel a huge shit building, getting ready to explode out of me. I even cut my call short to tend to it. And Hattie's pussy looks perfect for ground zero."

"You've got a deal," I said. I pulled her a little closer to me and licked all around her star, which was a more subdued red than her hair, pulling on it with my teeth, sucking her lips, and then invading her cunt with my fingers. I felt all around inside her, her juices running down my wrist onto my arm. I took my fingers out and licked them, as well as my arm, and then reached a few inches back from her cunt searching for her asshole. She spread her legs to aid my search and when I found my target, inserted them up inside of her. I pushed them in deep and could feel her treasure just waiting for the signal to descend. When I pulled my fingers out slowly they were black with poop. I smelled them like I was smelling the fragrance from an expensive perfume bottle, which is exactly what it is to me, and wiped them on her star.

"Do that again, Rita," she said, "only pull your fingers out quickly this time." I did, going in deeper now, rolling them around in a circle deep in her ass, and then yanked them out. She pushed at the same time and a long turd emerged from her onto Hattie's pussy and lower belly. It was dark-brown and made a pile where it landed. Then another log followed, more solid than the first, but just as big. I thought that might be all, but she told me to wait a second, and soon a third massive log emerged and joined the other two.

"Wow, that's a lot of shit, Bernice." I said, "Even for somebody from Texas."

Bending down she beamed and replied, "Not only a lot, Rita, but heavenly scrumptious, I'm sure," and she picked up a handful and wiped it on both our faces, especially over our mouths, and then our tits. We kissed and she collapsed onto me; we continued to caress each other, smearing her shit all over us everywhere. She was right, it was scrumptious, bitter and earthy and very savory, and a perfect consistency for spreading. Then it was all four of us covering each other, rubbing against one another. Francene needed to shit and Hattie insisted she do it in her mouth.

"Rita's scat was delectable, as you said, Francene," declared Hattie. "I know yours will be just as tasty."

"Oh, even better," she replied, looking at me and smiling. This would have normally elicited a response from me had my tongue not been about to burrow into Bernice's asshole. Francene meanwhile crouched over Hattie's face and produced a big fat log that slithered into Hattie's mouth perfectly. We all sucked on it while it remained there before adding it to what we wanted to spread on us. We kept massaging each other, touching and smearing, licking one another's tits and pussies and asses.