Solo Reveling

CW

: Panty pooping. Scat play. Pee. Alcohol. Promiscuity.

Author's Note

: Poor Katie. There she was, grocery shopping, when she caught a whiff of something rancid and before she knew it, some strange girl kissed her and completely fucked up her brain. What's a confident, sex-loving party girl meant to do in this situation?

This is a follow-on from

The Two Commandments

, and, of course, contains panty pooping and scat play. It isn't one to read over lunch, or at all, if you're not into that.

- - -

"Alright, cutie?"

Closing the front door behind her, the girl in the mirror smiles back at Katie.

"You're fit as fuck, you badass."

Katie feels a surge of satisfaction as she ogles the slim, just-turned-twenty-two-year-old patiently standing on the other side of the glass. The bundle of hotness before her is doled up in her usual Saturday night 'going out out' getup: Her black bobbed hair is spiked slightly. Her eyes are smoky black. Her cute button nose and slightly freckled cheeks exude an alcohol-fueled rosy glow and she's smiling broadly. She's proudly wearing a studded black leather choker and a simple black halter neck with no bra - much to her dismay her boobs refuse to get any bigger and her size-Bs don't really need one - and her belly button is proudly on show in the center of her bare midriff. What she lacks in plunging neckline, however, she makes up for in confidence.

Her ultra short pleated mini skirt could almost be part of a school uniform if it wasn't so intentionally revealing, the stripe pattern running down the pleats extenuating the shortness. It only just covers her crotch, and at the back hardly even attempts to cover her bum. Sometimes she adds a pair of torn fishnets to the outfit, but today it's bare legs all the way up to her white and black polka dot panties. Her feet are hidden deep inside a pair of knee-high black leather cyberpunk boots with massive chunky platform soles and enough metalwork to sink a ship. You'd probably describe her as grunge punk, but whatever, she's absolutely rocking herself.

Katie loves the deviant look her outfit exudes. It certainly turns heads, and she adores clomping around the place in her massive boots. They give her a tangible sense of safety, being so high and wrapping her legs so snugly, like she's ready for anything coming her way. The high platforms make her walk with her butt pert, affording lucky onlookers a generous flash of her panties under that adorable microskirt. She's such a tease!

Her outfit is an attention magnet and she exudes a devil-may-care attitude when she's out in the clubs. Looking for fun and well up for fucking about, Katie has her absolute pick of the boys. They're always on her like rabid dogs as soon as she walks in a club. She'll have a drink or two, nothing too much, just enough to let her hair down a bit. She'll dance for hours - no mean feat in such massive boots - fending off advances all night. She gets off on the attention, she loves to be the object of unbridled lust for these horny dogs.

Most weekends she picks a random boy from the pack, takes him back to hers and fucks his brains out.

She's fucked all types. The sports jocks are always super confident but usually disappointing, either they're too much talk and no skills, or they haven't any brains to fuck out in the first place. Many of them use bravado as compensation for disappointingly small dicks, too.

Some of her picks have been a bit too inexperienced, virgins who don't know where their dick is meant to go, let alone what a clit is. She takes pity on these boys, teaches them the basics, and sends them on their way into the world with a huge smile on their face.

Some boys are just mean, treating her like she's a disposable jizz rag just because she was up for fucking them. These are the asshats who have clearly learned their moves from porn, choking her, harshly slapping her, bending her body as they please, violently ramming themselves into her. She doesn't like those sorts and usually manages to avoid them but regretfully accepts it as a risk of playing the game.

Her favorite boys are the shy geeky ones, who often nervously try it on with her after being encouraged by their giggling friends. She loves these moments; the look on their faces when their guy succeeds in scoring her is priceless. She always gives an extra public display in these situations; an extra panty flash or letting her boy get handsy with her straight away. Just to tease his friends.

She isn't too choosy though, providing the boy has a bit of a personality and has an acceptable grasp of personal hygiene - not always a given - then she's very likely to open her legs. She finds this completely empowering: Happy to fuck almost anyone, she's a strong, confident, independent young woman, having fun, who knows what she wants, or certainly,

wanted

, and how to get it.

Her flat mate has grown accustomed to finding a different guy every Sunday morning over the breakfast table. So, if her flat mate happened to be at home this weekend, she'd probably be wondering why Katie is standing in her hallway, at two on a Sunday morning, back from the club, completely alone. No boy in her bed. Nobody waiting to have their brains fucked out of them by Katie's expert cunt.

It wasn't as if there was a paucity of potential fuck toys tonight. Nope, as sure as night follows day, Katie and her friends had been surrounded by the expected gaggle of testosterone-fueled animals all desperate to get into their panties. But she just wasn't feeling it. Not tonight. She hasn't been feeling it for a few weeks, so much so that the other day her flat mate asked if she was alright. She's fine, at least, she thinks so. She has simply lost interest in fucking superficial randoms.

She just can't get a memory out of her mind. Try as she might, she replays the encounter over and over in her brain. She alternates between anger at the audacity of this random girl in the store, and the excitement of what it might mean. One minute she thinks, 'Who the fuck just kisses some random in the store, fucksake'. Then the next it's more like, 'Oh, but, wow, her lips tasted like cherries.'

But it was what the stranger had whispered to Katie that had caused such a schism in her brain.

"Yeah, so you're right, I

have

pooped my panties. On

purpose

." The stranger had said, before smiling this ultra cute, wicked grin, and breezing off.

The first part of that was obvious, Katie remembers vividly. She'd been grocery shopping with her friend Zara when they'd noticed a totally rank stench like someone had walked in dog shit. Sniffing around a little Katie thought it was coming from the girl at the self-checkout next to them, she'd mentioned it to her friend. Neither had considered to spare the girl's blushes and Katie ended up directly accusing this poor girl of soiling herself. Katie didn't know why she'd been such a bitch, for all she knew the girl next to her had some medical problem. Katie had absolutely not been expecting this strange girl to square up to her, kiss her on the lips, and admit that, at that very moment, her panties

were

full of poop because

that's how she wanted them to be

.

"I mean, who the

fuck

likes pooping their panties?" Katie had protested to Zara, who had agreed without hesitation. But something about the encounter wouldn't leave Katie alone. So much so she'd talked Zara out of alerting the store staff.

In her freshman year Katie had almost shat herself when pissed at a frat party. Some boy had been fingering her and she'd not noticed how desperate she'd gotten. She just managed to leg it to the bathroom, though the poor guy had been left with a shitty finger or two. She'd never been gladder to have a spare pair of panties in her clutch bag, although usually they were for when she couldn't find her original pair after a quick fuck.

But, embarrassing as this had been, she sometimes surprised herself by musing how much she didn't especially hate it. It's just a bodily function we all do; she'd told herself. But this never quite explained the feeling she found within herself.

And then Store Girl bloody rocks up into her life. This dirty skank with her panties full of shit, cool as a cucumber, in the fucking

public

store, who just fucking kissed her and had brazenly admitted to parading around with squishy panties?! What the

fuck

? Store Girl's words had been like a bolt of electricity zapping through Katie's brain, completely frying it as it went. Although Katie hadn't realized it at the time, this was the moment a new, very extreme, kink had been entrenched into her. Since then, she's lost her interest in fucking random boys from the club.

All she's been able to think about is this girl, her lips and her predilection for poo.

And then there was that dude she was with. He was obviously fucking her, the way they were so confidently playful in public, the way he was basically up her butt as she stood at the checkout machine. He must have smelled her. He couldn't

not

have. Was he trying to protect her somehow? To spare her embarrassment over shitting herself? She didn't

seem

to be embarrassed.

These thoughts have tormented Katie for weeks. Store Girl obviously liked pooping her panties. But that's

disgusting

. Isn't it?

Now, standing alone in her flat, dressed to kill, slightly tipsy, the lingering thought that's been bubbling around Katie's subconscious rises to the surface.

"I guess, I could... try it...?"

Standing in front of the mirror in her flat, Katie wiggles her butt. Almost acting on autopilot she flips her camera app open, props up her phone on a chair behind her and hits record. Looking over her shoulder, the glowing rectangle shows the rear view of a murderously cute girl with a totally killer ass. Polka dot panties are generously visible under an ultra mini skirt. She mentally apologizes to her underwear for what she's about to do to them.

Katie reaches around and squeezes her butt, then straightens out her panties. Hands on hips, she pushes her tits and ass out slightly and shuffles her feet apart to firmly brace herself.

She pushes, gingerly.

Her guts gurgle.

She pushes again.

Katie feels her asshole dilating as a hot nugget of shit pokes out. Her heart skips a beat. She relaxes and it slides back inside.

"Ha, turtle necking" she giggles. It feels unbelievably wrong to be doing this on purpose. Yet not in a bad way.

Her adrenaline rising, she pushes a little harder. She feels the solid, warm muck slide further out of her ass into her crack. She gropes at her panties. She can't feel anything with her fingers yet.

The next time she relaxes, the shit nugget she's toying around her asshole leaves some behind as her gut muscles pull it back in. With a sense of alarm she feels some lumps of greasy mush cozily squishing between her cheeks.

"Fuck, I'm actually doing it. I'm

shitting myself!

" Katie says out loud to herself, with no small amount of excitement. She wiggles her ass again, the warm slimy mess lubricating her starfish feeling private, dirty and forbidden.

Now she pushes harder. Slowly, surely, she squeezes more of the insidious load out of her ass. She pees a bit too, soaking her panties, the liquid running down her legs and into her boots. Fuck it, she'll have to clean them later, they're gonna have to take the punishment for now. With each little push she pumps a smidge more sludge into her crack. It's starting to feel quite full now, as she lets more go the shit starts to make crackling and squelching noises as it squidges its way to daylight.

"You dirty bitch!" Katie scolds the girl in the mirror. "What the

fuck

do you think you're doing? This is

gross

, you know!"

But she's not buying her own admonition.

She starts to feel resistance to her pushes, so she reaches around and gingerly strokes her fingers over her ass. She draws a breath with excitement when she feels a small bulge, tenting up out of her panties, nestled right between her gorgeously firm butt cheeks. She lightly prods at the mess. Inside her panties the shit acquiesces, shifting around as her fingers explore the muck. It's soft, like lumpy, thick, custard. It's delightful squelchy, completely depraved and it's pleasantly sticking to her panties and crack. Those poor panties are seriously in for destruction.

She's teased herself but her guts are starting to object to the playing. They're ready to let loose. She tenses all over, strains with effort, and empties the remains of her colon into her panties. The bulge grows magnificently, Katie can see it on the phone screen, a tennis ball sized mass quivering against her skin, a foreboding dark stain slowly permeating the white fabric of her underwear.

Her heart is beating so quickly. What a rush! She catches the first whiff of shit drifting up from her rancid ass.

"Oh, God, eww, fuck that

stinks

!" Katie starts, then checks herself. She's just shat her fucking panties, of

course

her shit's going to stink. In fact, she's even a little bit proud at what she's done.

A couple of splats make Katie look down. Some small splodges of poop have escaped her panties and splatted onto the floor, landing in cute little plops.

Checking to make sure her ass is well framed by her camera phone Katie tentatively fondles her bulge. The shit inside is really loose, that's what you get for shitting after few drinks, but usually when this happens she just squits into the toilet like a normal person. Not tonight. Nope, there's no sign of any normal people here. Katie's internal monologue won't shut up.

She runs her fingers around her leg holes... ah-ha! That's the leak. The slimy muck has crept around her butt cheek on the right and curled itself out past her panty elastic. She wipes at the breach with a couple of fingers, then brings her hand round revealing a sticky brown slick. She cautiously gives it a little sniff, reveling in the fetor of fresh poop. She plays with the sticky muck between her fingers for a bit, enjoying the way it sticks her digits together.

Katie hitches up her micro skirt a little to get a better view of her underwear. She wipes her fingers on her panties leaving a pair of thick, brown streaks across the polka dots. She catches sight of her rancid rear in her phone screen. A thrill ripples through her body, an intense sensation of pleasure at being filthy like this. At her panties being used as an ass wipe.

She takes her shitty bulge in her right hand and gives it a firm squeeze. Shit immediately squelches out around the sides, splashing to the floor, landing with wet, slapping slops. Her hand is covered in slime in seconds as she rubs away at her asshole. With a circular motion she roughly works her panties deep into the shitty bulge, scooping up the muck from her crack and smearing it liberally over her ass as she does so. Her hand is caked in her shit now, her panties too as the repulsive slick is spread out over her entire butt. Here and there little lumps of something cling on, but for the most part what Katie shat out was so smooth and creamy it spreads out like expensive foundation.

The putrid stench is overpowering but she couldn't care less; her ass proudly glistening in the light with its newfound coating of filth.

She pauses. A couple more dollops of poop slop off her hand. She's completely revolting. And yet, smearing herself with her excreta was the most outrageous fun she's had. Never mind fucking her toyboys, no, screw that. This was

way

better. Suddenly all the curious feelings, all the half thoughts in her brain, all the unanswered questions come crashing inward. Whirls of chatter explode through her cortex like a symphony orchestra, spinning around almost making her dizzy. With a blinding flash the cacophony in her mind implodes upon a single, bright, white singularity. Her mind is transformed into the serenity of one single thought:

She loves playing in poo

.

What to do now? Katie's gut is unfortunately empty. She absent-mindedly wipes her shitty hand on the front of her panties, ruining them further as she does.

Minding the piles of poo that have slopped to floor underneath her she grabs her camera phone and shuts the video down.

"That one's just for

me.

" She thinks, unticking the option to send it to the cloud. "Don't want anyone seeing

that

one by accident now, do we?"

As Katie walks around, the shitty panties glued to her skin feel heavy and cold. It's a curious feeling, she notes, a bit like wearing a tight swimsuit out of the pool. She washes her hands in the bathroom then returns to the hall to survey the damage. Clods of shit indicate where she was standing while she soiled herself.

Another thrill tickles her. She boldly strides forwards, stamping her big black platform boots through the shit. It's a bit slippery on the hard floor but she manages not to fall over. She lifts her boots up in the mirror in turn. The repulsive contents of her rectum are all ingrained in the treads. The brown, malignant muck is stuck in amongst the black rubber pattern like she'd walked in dog shit in the park, and it smells surprisingly similar. She stomps up and down the hall a few times leaving sticky shitty boot prints as she goes.

"Yeah, get in the fucking shit, boots!" She utters to herself. Usually, her trusty boots have got her covered, keeping her out of the shit on the streets, so she takes an odd satisfaction in fucking them up a bit like this. She hardly notices the stench anymore; her nose has become somewhat accustomed to the fugue.

The hall now looks like a farmyard and doesn't smell much better. Katie unbuckles her boots and pulls her feet out. Why are her socks so damp... Oh! Yeah, from when she peed!

"Christ, yeah, I'm fucking horrible." she says aloud, again.

Tiptoeing around the spread-out muck Katie stands her shit-caked boots by the door. She'll have to give them a proper clean later. For now, though, that floor... Katie sets to work on her hands and knees armed with as much cleaner spray as she can find in the flat, the mop and bucket, everything possible that might help her clean. She realizes, too late, that she's somewhat unprepared for a cleanup job like this.

Still rocking her shit-caked panties - nonchalantly wearing them as she goes about household chores - gives her yet another thrill, like she's too cool to care about the state she's in because she's a tough bitch who can handle fucking

anything

- Katie cleans the floor until it sparkles.

Finally, Katie concedes it's time to climb off the filth train she's been so wildly enjoying. She jumps in the shower, slowly peels her panties off her ass, ties them up in a trash sack, and washes away the traces of her debauchery.

She has no idea how long she's been at it, but who cares. That was

spectacular

. She didn't know she needed to discover a new, depraved side to herself, but somehow a massive weight has been lifted off her mind.

As she settles into bed her thoughts play through the events of the night again and again. Is this what Store Girl meant? Katie figures it must be; shitting your panties

is

fun after all! Massive, messy, fetid fun.

Katie wonders again about the girl. Who the fuck was she? Did that dude really take her home and fuck her in her mess? That sounds like it would be fun. Katie has a yearning to take her depravity further, although, she reminds herself, she's only a beginner and there's no need to rush. But maybe, just maybe, she could find this girl again and see if she wants to get freaky together?

"That's probably too much too soon." She reasons.

Except, ooo.. Katie idly reaches down to her cunt and gives it a stroke. She was too preoccupied to goon earlier, what with a brain full of shitting thoughts, but now she realizes how saturated her cunt has become. Katie flicks her video library open and plays her new panty poop video. Watching herself get messy all over again proves to be a

huge

turn on for our degenerate girl. The moment in the video when Katie massages her shit right across her ass is the last visual she needs. It takes her up and over the edge.