Social Call

Please check the tags before proceeding. Contains scat.

The subway was crowded more than usual today. I wasn't sure I'd even be able to find a seat. Which was okay because I'd only be on for about 20 minutes; that's how long it would take to get to the part of Brooklyn where Daddy lives. I also wouldn't mind standing because I might have to move around a little to get myself in the right position for what I had in mind. I did something I couldn't resist doing, knowing it might draw attention to me or get some people wondering about me in a filthy way, which was something I always craved. Daddy says I'm a fucking little exhibitionist beside being his whore bitch, which gives him a big thrill. Me, too.

Just before I left home, while still lying in bed touching myself, I stuck my finger up my ass, basking in the usual thrill that act produces in me. When I finally pulled it out, it was black with shit (I'm literally packed up there with poop knowing I'm going to see Daddy today), and then I licked it clean, but not completely. I took my partially cleaned finger and wiped it on my smoothly shaven left armpit, staining it and making it smell just a little like shit. If I lifted my arm up (I was wearing a sleeveless tank top, no bra), you could make out the smell. Not a lot, but enough to make you notice. That would be my fun on the subway: have someone smell my shit before I slunk away to another pole in the car and then out the door at my stop. What would this person's reaction be? Repulsion? Desire? My pussy would be drenched as would my panties. Daddy was going to love hearing about this.

It's been a couple of weeks since Daddy and I have seen each other. He calls me his fucking whore bitch, his pet name for me, and I love it. He'll be dying to see me again so he can fuck all my holes with his big fat cock and we can piss and shit all over each other and roll on the floor together covered in it. It's our favorite thing to do together. I haven't shit in three days knowing I'd be seeing him today and he'd want all the shit I could muster for him. I hope he's got plenty for me, too.

I switched poles a couple of times in the subway car and then noticed an older young guy leaning up against a pole looking at his phone. I moved over to where he was and absent-mindedly reached for the same pole with my left hand. I gradually moved it higher on the pole until my armpit was slightly exposed. I could smell my shit, in fact, stuck my nose close to my arm and inhaled deeply. It wasn't very strong -- I would have loved my shit to be dripping down my side like a waterfall making me reek -- but it was definitely noticeable. I glanced briefly at the guy, figured he was a few years older than me (I'm 28), and waited for a reaction. He suddenly had a peculiar look on his face as if something wasn't quite right, and I stood patiently for several seconds wondering what he might do or say. My heart was beating hard and I could feel my panties getting damp. How I would have loved for him to lean his face into my armpit and take a huge swipe of it with his tongue: I might have fucked him right there on the floor. I could feel him look at me a few times, perhaps wondering, but then glanced away. We were pulling into my station, so I finally moved away towards the door.

The train came to a stop and the doors slid open. I stepped onto the platform, followed by three or four other people, and immediately turned around and stared back into the car at the man I had scent-flashed. He was looking at me with a blank expression on his face. We stared hard at each other and I decided to smile at him. He just kept looking at me, and then the train started moving again and he was gone. Well mister, think of me fondly or with total grossness, I thought, but please do think of me. I couldn't stop smiling and made my way to the stairs leading up to the street.

It was a few blocks to Daddy's apartment from the subway station. When I got there I let myself in with a key.

"It's me!" I yelled down the entrance hall. "Anybody home?"

"It's about fucking time!" Daddy greeted me abruptly, though with a tinge of yearning in his voice as well. He took a big gulp from the can of Schlitz he was holding, and I could smell the beer on his breath from ten feet away. When I got closer I made sure to put my left arm on his shoulder to kiss him.

He pointed his nose to my armpit and said, "Fuck girl, is that some bizarro deodorant you're wearing or is that shit I'm smelling?"

"Why couldn't they be one and the same?" I asked impishly. "A special treat for Daddy." Then in a dissatisfied tone I added, "You don't know what my shit smells like after all this time? I'm really disappointed in you."

He took another long slug of beer, finishing the can he was holding before snatching another one from the fridge. I took a stroll around his studio apartment, including the kitchen, checking that things hadn't totally fallen to pieces. There were a few dishes piled in the sink and the garbage needed taking out, but all in all the place didn't look that bad. "You'll have to refresh my memory, my little whore bitch," he finally said, popping open the can.

I took my shoes off and hopped up onto the dilapidated couch he had and sat on the armrest. I took his hand and pulled him onto the couch so that he knelt in front of me between my legs. I was wearing ripped denim shorts, and I hugged him with my knees. "What else am I, Daddy, besides your little whore bitch?"

"My little cock-sucking, ass-slurping, shit-eating slut," he answered mechanically, as if ticking off items on a list.

"Mmm, that's right, Daddy, and don't you fucking forget it." I pulled him to me and kissed him again, harder and deeper. He spilled some of his beer on my shorts, which I decided to ignore.

I held my left arm straight up in the air and asked, "You want to lick my shit off my armpit, Daddy? I saved it just for you."

"Oh, really," he responded dubiously.

"Some pervert on the subway standing next to me smelled it and wanted to put his tongue in my armpit and lick it off, but I told him he couldn't, I was saving it for my Daddy to lick off." It was a good little lie, the kind I often told him.

He snorted and shook his head. "Who are you kidding! A fucking slut like you? You'd have begged him to slurp that shit off you."

I clicked my tongue and chastised him. "Not even one minute goes by and you forget already. I'm

your

fucking slut, Daddy,

your

whore bitch." I kissed him again and gave his cock a hard squeeze through his pants until he flinched.

"I hope my whore bitch didn't forget and has a present for me," he said.

Trying to appear confused, I declared, "It's not your birthday, Daddy. Present? What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

I was waiting for this, had thought about it ahead of time, and had prepared a story in response. It was a good story, I believed, one that would get him excited in a roundabout sort of way. "I have terrible news about that, Daddy," I began. "I was saving my shit for you, hadn't gone in three days, when I was walking home yesterday down Columbus Avenue and I suddenly got this terrible urge to take a shit. I did everything I could think of to hold it in until I got home, but just couldn't anymore and shit my panties right there on the fucking sidewalk, lots of men and old ladies walking past. I was wearing jeans and had to lean against the wall of a building to help keep it in place as my panties filled up with shit, at least three logs, all soft and creamy. I pushed my butt against the wall to spread it across my ass and the smell was terrific. People started to look at me as they filed past, and I stared into their fucking faces, every one of them, daring them to say something. It felt wonderful, all that shit against my ass cheeks and on my pussy. I started thinking of you, Daddy, wishing you were there so you could put your hand down my jeans and smear my shit all over my fucking cunt and ass right there on the sidewalk. You would pull your hand out and stick your fingers in my mouth and make me suck them. You'd get it all over my fucking lips and chin and cheeks, everybody watching as they passed, curious why I was moaning like I was."

"This better not be some fucking story you're making up, slut, or I'm gonna be pissed."

That surprised me a little, his saying that, but it just made me more determined to continue. "Fuck, no, Daddy. I wish it was a made-up story, but it's exactly what happened. Finally, I stopped shitting and smushing it in my jeans against the wall and started walking toward my apartment again. I was still half a block away. I could feel the shit begin to slide down my thighs, the back of my thighs, just as I made it to the entrance. I went down the hallway to my apartment, pretty confident I'd make it without a major fucking mess occurring on the floor, and went inside. Now I was suddenly ecstatic knowing it was just me and all that shit in my jeans and nothing else to fucking worry about. Shouting with joy I ran to the bathroom, taking my shirt off on the way, kicked my shoes off, and hopped in the tub. I slowly opened my jeans and began pulling them down."

"No sticking your hands in it first?" he asked disappointedly, chugging from his can of beer. "What's that all about?"

"Oh sure, Daddy, of course I did that -- how could I ever not do that?" I was thrilled he was paying such close attention to the details of my story.

"So yeah," I continued, as he took the last swallows of the beer, "I unbuttoned my jeans to loosen them up and put my hand, both hands actually, down my pants until they were buried in all that lovely shit. It felt so fucking fantastic as I mashed it up in my palms and spread it around. Then I began pulling them down, and a big hunk plopped out into the tub. With my jeans around my knees I started playing with my panties, rubbing handfuls of shit on them and all over my cunt and ass. Then I slipped them off and sat down, piling up all the shit I made between my legs."

"This was yesterday?" he snapped. "That was all your shit you were going to bring to me here today so we could play? You just shit it all away?"

"Yeah, Daddy," I said about as sorrowfully as I could, but never considering eliminating any of the details I had in store for him. "Piled up between my legs in the tub. It was a heaping smelly pile, all right. Quite a bit was still in my panties so I took them and wiped them on my tits first and then all over my face. It felt so fucking wonderful, Daddy, so creamy, and tasted delicious, too. I was so ecstatic and so sad at the same time, it felt really weird. All that shit felt unbelievably fantastic as I rubbed it into my body, my arms and legs and all over my pussy. There was so fucking much of it I could cover my whole body just about. But it was sad because I wanted it to be you covering me in shit, it was supposed to be you." That was the gist of my story, and I thought it went over pretty well. He bought it hook, line, and sinker, I could tell.

He slapped me across the face and raised his empty beer can, which I thought for a second he was going to smash over my head. Instead he flung it toward the kitchen on the floor. "Goddam, you fucking slut, why do you waste good shit like that, huh? You couldn't fucking hold it one more fucking day?" He raised his hand to slap me again, but I put my arms out to deflect his swat. I balled my right hand up in a fist and with all my might I swung it so that the butt of it I smashed into his cheek, and he dropped his hands.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," I whimpered. "You know I'm sorry. Three days were just too long to try to hold it, I should have known it would be. But the need to shit came on so fast, if I was in my apartment I would have shit in a container and brought it with me." And I probably would have if what I'm saying actually happened. I'd done that before, shit in a container and brought it to Daddy on the subway like a present. It made him real excited and he went crazy smearing it all over me and then fucking me.

Okay, I had him exactly where I wanted him, as they say. What better way to send someone's spirits through the roof than by surprising them with exactly what they were hoping for after its attainment seemed impossible! The element of surprise was all in my favor now, and boy, was Daddy going to be surprised when he saw how much shit I had for us!

My punch on his cheek seemed to have no effect on him, and he ignored it like you might background noise in a crowded bar. "Take those shorts off," he ordered me. "Panties, too, if you're wearing them."

"Yes, Daddy, of course," I replied. Then coyly I added, "I have my tiny red bikini panties on, Daddy. I wasn't going to wear any, but I remembered how much you love those panties and put them on. See?" I slipped my shorts off, but kept the panties on. I spread my legs wider, put one leg on the backrest of the couch, and displayed my pussy and ass to him, somewhat concealed beneath the panties.

He eyed them carefully, liking what he was seeing. He pushed the fabric aside and ran his tongue all around and in my pussy tasting me. This gave me an idea. "Mmm, your tongue feels so good on my slit, Daddy. I love how you lick me. Put your finger in my ass, Daddy, while you lick both my holes. I think there might be a little shit left in there from yesterday." He pulled me off the armrest and had me turn around and kneel on the couch. This was perfect because it put my ass right at his face level, and he could lick my ass easily before inserting his finger. His juicy beer-soaked tongue slithered all around my shithole before diving in deep. Daddy loved tongue-fucking my asshole, and I loved feeling his tongue doing it.

After getting my hole sopping wet, he slid his finger inside. It went in easily and he pushed it in to the hilt. After a few minutes of being tongued and finger-fucked, I said, "Taste me, Daddy. Is my finger at least a little bit shit-smeared?" I was so packed I knew it would be totally covered in shit. He pulled it out and I could tell he was impressed. He didn't say anything but I could hear him sucking his finger and feasting on it. While he was occupied doing that I rearranged my panties back over my ass crease and pushed with my stomach muscles. Finally, three days worth of near-black shit began swimming from my ass into my panties.

"Oops," I blurted, trying to sound startled. "I think I'm going to shit again like yesterday, way more than I expected. Look out, Daddy, here it comes, all in my pretty red panties!"

"Holy fuck!" he cried, seeing the seat of my panties balloon out and sag. "Look at all that shit!"

"Is there a lot, Daddy?" I asked excitedly, knowing without a doubt it was a huge amount. "I've got so much more in there that needs to come out. I hope my panties can hold it all."

"You lied to me, bitch!" he suddenly exclaimed, though not so much in anger. "You couldn't have shit your panties yesterday and dumped this much again today. There must be three huge logs in there ready to fall out."

"Do you like it, Daddy? I wanted to surprise you so made up that story. You're not mad at me, are you?" He was kneeling behind me, his face inches from my shit-filled panty bottoms, sniffing their contents intently. He was too enthralled to answer me, as I expected. "That ought to give you lots to spread all over me for starters, huh Daddy," I continued. "Ah fuck, here comes another load." Another creamy turd was added to the pile in my panties.

"Don't worry, whore bitch," he said, not for a minute forgetting our roles. "You'll get your punishment for lying to me later. Right now we've got to get you over on the kitchen floor before this couch gets fucking ruined worse than it is. I'm gonna get up for a sec and do something. Don't you move a fucking inch till I get back." He sprang up and went to the kitchen. He opened the cabinet under the sink and yanked out a plastic tarp which he stretched out over the kitchen floor. He then came back to the couch and knelt behind me again.

I could feel his hands patting and sculpting my panties, especially around the edges, keeping my mess intact so it wouldn't leak out the leg holes onto the couch. "I've never seen you shit so much before, girl," he declared. "This is fucking amazing. I want you to stand up slowly while I hold you back here and walk over to the kitchen floor."

"You want me to shake my ass in your face, Daddy, as we walk?" I joked.

"Dump this shit out on my couch, bitch, and the punishment you get will astound you, I promise." We maneuvered off the couch and made it to the kitchen without incident. I knelt on the tarp, and then he began pushing the seat of my panties into me, squishing the shit all over my ass, down my thighs, even up onto my back. There was so much of it, and like water finding its own level, it wanted to spread everywhere it could reach. With the help of Daddy's hands, of course.

The next thing he did was move in front of me and squat. "My hands are filthy already," he said. "Unbutton my fucking shirt." I did and then slid it off him. He stood and said, "Now my pants." I unsnapped them and pulled them down to the floor along with his underwear. His semi-hard cock leaped up at me and I grabbed it and gave it a long lick before putting it in my mouth to suck.

"Mmm, suck my cock, whore bitch, that feels good." I sucked him for several more seconds, my saliva dripping off him as I took him deep into my throat. But no matter how good a blowjob I gave him, it was my shit he was craving now. He pulled his cock from my mouth and knelt behind me again.

I reached my hand back and slipped it beneath the fabric and along the crack of my ass into the mountainous pile of shit in my panties. I pushed through the pile to the seat and tried to hold my poop against my ass so it wouldn't flow out the sides.

"Do you want to slide my panties down, Daddy, or should I do it?" I asked.

"You do it," he answered, sitting back on his ass to view me properly. "But slowly, bitch, nice and slow."

I removed my hand and wiped the shit from between my legs onto my belly, coating the front of my bikini bottoms in dark-brown grunge. Kneeling upright and looking at him over my shoulder to gauge his reaction, I put my hands on the fabric's elastic and slowly lowered it until most of my ass was exposed. I tried to keep as much shit intact as I could, but quite a bit began falling out. Big clumps of shit clung to my ass cheeks which he began to spread into my crack and over my lower back and hips. I eventually lowered the fabric to my knees and soon Daddy had my thighs as blackened as my ass and back.

"I bet that shit looks delicious, huh Daddy," I said. "It certainly smells delicious, doesn't it?" I began rocking gently back and forth getting my filthy ass closer to his face, my panties wrapped around my legs just above my knees.

He scooped most of what was left in my panties out and into a pile on the floor, leaving several thick remnants inside them. "Take those dirty panties off, bitch," he commanded, "and turn around." I got them off while still kneeling and turned to face him. "Give them here," he added, holding out his hand.

I handed them to him and he turned them inside out, making sure their contents remained in place. He smelled them deeply and then said, "Open your mouth, I want you to suck these, taste your own shit."

"Love to, Daddy," I asserted, smiling. I did as he ordered and he stretched the panties lengthwise and forced them through my lips as if they were a gag. There was enough shit left in the panties to half fill my mouth as well as to smear over my cheeks and chin.

"Do you like tasting your shit, bitch?" he asked.

"Mmm-hmmm," I cooed, unable to say any more. I stared into his eyes trying to make them dreamy and yearning, enticing him to kiss me or at least to rub more poop on my face, to cover it completely.