Warning! This is a true account from my university days about me taking part in full and filthy toilet games, including scat play. I fully understand that these accounts are not suitable for everyone. I have, however, received many requests to include more of these stores from my past. I have therefore responded accordingly. If Scat, Shit, Pee, Piss, and Toilet games are not ‘your thing’, I fully understand. Therefore, please ignore this account, and hopefully, you may enjoy my other offerings. I would greatly appreciate it if you were kind enough not to vote it down simply because you did not agree with or enjoy its contents.
Many thanks
Luv Rachel xxx
It was a bright Saturday morning, so I decided to head into the city from my university accommodation as I required a few things. I left the car and commenced walking, intending to catch the bus further along the road. I guess it was an early attempt to cut down my carbon footprint.
As I walked, I heard my name being called and, turning around, saw a stunning-looking young man who I did not know running toward me. I judged he was a year above me but had jet black hair, piercingly blue eyes and a fair complexion. As he was around six feet tall, it seemed he had everything going for him.
‘Hello,’ he said affably, ‘Are you heading to the shops?’
‘That’s the plan,’ I responded airily.
‘Mind if I come too?’ he enquired.
‘As long as you don’t ask me to pay your bus fare.’
‘I won’t, don’t worry. But I’ll be happy to pay yours.’
I was not too surprised at this offer. I had become used to being flattered in some way. I had been asked out more times than I could remember and had so many ‘love’ notes pushed under my door that I feel I was personally responsible for the destruction of several acres of the Amazon Rainforest.
If I had wanted and had the time and energy, I am sure I could have slept with a different guy every night of my stay at university. A female friend of mine once bet that I could not bed ten different guys on ten consecutive nights, a challenge she regretted when I had completed the task.
‘My name is Kyle,’ the young man said, offering me his hand.
‘I’m Rachel,’ I replied, forgetting that moments earlier I had heard him calling my name.’
‘I know,’ Kyle replied without reminding me.
We stood in awkward silence at the bus stop with a couple of older people as we waited impatiently for the bus to arrive. When it did, Kyle proved true to his word and paid both our fairs before leading me towards the back of the bus, where it was quieter.
‘When?’ I asked simply.
‘When what?’ Kyle responded, somewhat bemused.
‘When do you want to get into bed with me?’
‘Oh. Well, I don’t actually.’
‘You don’t?’
‘Okay, I’ll be honest, I’d love to. Let’s face it, who wouldn’t, but I’m not here to ask you for sex.’
‘That’s a change,’ I answered playfully, ‘Most guys can’t wait to get my clothes off, their jeans undone, my knickers down, and their cocks out.’
Kyle laughed nervously. ‘I’m sure that my friends and I would love to do that, but I’ve been volunteered to ask you if you’d do something else for us.’
‘Not sexual?’
‘Yes, I guess it is. But not how you expect.’
‘Oh,’
‘I’m not sure how to ask but have been told you’re a friendly person and won’t get offended.’
‘I try to be,’ I responded, becoming more baffled by the second, ‘And I won’t be offended. I promise.’
Kyle sighed deeply and lowered his voice, ‘We have heard, but don’t know if it’s true, that you play with shit?’
Despite all that I had engaged in during my first three years at university, it was still a bit of a shock to be questioned so bluntly about something so taboo especially sitting on a bus heading towards the city centre.
Turning a deep shade of red, I looked around to ensure that none of the other passengers had heard or appeared to be listening.
‘I may have done,’ I answered rather coyly.
‘To be blunt, a few mates and I have a fetish we’d love to try out, but err…’ His voice faltered as he sought the right words.
‘You need someone willing to experiment on?’ I added, trying to finish his line of enquiry.
‘Yes, yes, that’s just it. We heard you were into group sex and things, and then someone told us you had once played with shit. I got the job of being the fall guy and approaching you.’
‘What fetish do you have?’
‘What?’
‘What’s the fetish you have? What would you want to do to me if I agreed to meet you all?’
‘Oh, good grief,’ Kyle replied, seemingly at a loss, ‘I don’t really know.’
The bus stopped, and we got off together, continuing our conversation as we headed toward the shops.
‘Sooooo… If I was willing, what would you want it to entail?’
‘We haven’t fully discussed what we would do as it is only a fetish. We never thought that we’d ever be able to do it.’
‘Why not? I questioned teasingly.
‘I guess we never thought we’d find a girl willing to join in.’
I looked at Kyle again. He was polatlı escort a good-looking hunk of a guy, and the thought of pleasing him in some way made my juices flow above my thighs.
‘I might be willing but want to know what I’d be letting myself in for.’
We sat on a bench staring at each other. Kyle was clearly embarrassed.
‘You’re so hot,’ he said, looking me up and down.
‘Stop changing the subject,’ I scolded playfully. ‘What would you want to do if I agreed to help you fulfil your fetish.’
‘Oh. Oh. Oh. Well, err, I guess be our toilet.’
‘How?’
‘We’d want to squat over you and poop into your hands.’
‘I see. Anything else?’
‘We’d love to piss, oh sorry, I mean pee into your open mouth.’
‘And?’
‘We’d really love to hold your head in a loo and flush it.’
‘Just once?’
‘What?’
‘Just flush the loo once with my head in it?’
‘Oh no. As many times as we could. That would be so hot. We have discussed about using a woman’s hair like a loo brush.’
‘When did you want to do this?’
‘What?’
‘Stop saying ‘What,” I chastened, smiling, ‘Were you never taught at school to say ‘Pardon?”
‘What?’
‘Oh, I give up! Never mind. If I agreed, when would you want to meet to do it and for how long?’
‘Wow! Will you do it?’
‘I’m not saying yet, but I want to know when you’d want to do it?’
‘Tomorrow lunchtime for an hour.’
Poor Kyle had no idea it would be at least two months before I could contemplate meeting him and his mates. He was happy enough despite the discovery they would have to wait.
‘You’re not kidding me, Rachel, are you?’ he asked, ‘How do I know you will keep your promise?
‘I can see you’re pretty excited about it,’ I stated.
‘Can you? How?’
I pointed to the bulge in his jeans as he smiled sheepishly.
‘Oh yes.’
‘I’m the same.’
‘What?’
I rolled my eyes.
‘Come here,’ I said, taking him by the hand and leading him into an underpass a couple of hundred meters away.
‘Kiss me,’ I commanded him.
‘What?’
‘Listen, Kyle. If this is going to work, you must improve your vocabulary. Stop saying ‘What’ every time I say something.’
‘Sorry. I forgot.’
‘Now kiss me full on my lips, and when no one is coming, lift my skirt at the back and feel between my legs.’
‘What? Oh, Oh, Oh.’
‘Stop it. You’re beginning to annoy me.’
He pushed me against the wall of the underpass and began kissing me passionately. I opened my mouth as our tongues entwined in a long french kiss. When no one else was in the tunnel, I felt his hand reach down and lift my skirt. Suddenly he recoiled.
‘You’re not wearing any knickers!’ He blurted out.
‘I know. I hardly ever do.’
‘Never?’
‘Occasionally I do, but usually, I don’t.’
‘Wow!’
‘Now feel between my legs.’
His hand went up again as our lips met, and I felt his finger contact my moist area. Once again, he pulled away.
‘You’re wet!’
‘I know.’
‘How come?’
‘It was you talking about what you and your mates want to do,’ I replied as we started up the steps out of the underpass.
‘Can’t we finish kissing? Kyle asked disappointedly.
‘Not today. I have shopping to do.’
Kyle stayed with me, carried my bags and paid for my bus fare back to my accommodation.
Over the next few weeks, I met his four friends at different times as I sought to acquaint myself with what they wanted. This was anything but easy as none of them was completely forthcoming about just what they wished to do. It was like trying to draw blood from a stone.
Finally, we had a plan in place that seemed to meet all our requirements.
One of the guys was renting, with five others, an old Victorian terrace house close to the campus. It seemed the ideal location for our messy meet as it had a large bathroom and tiled floor. Despite his best efforts, he could not get all his fellow lodgers out for the day in question and had to explain that he wanted the house to entertain a young lady. He was utterly astounded to discover that two wanted to stay and join in, obviously suspicios that they might miss out on a good time.. The five had suddenly become seven.
As requested, I arrived at the house wearing a short pink dress and no knickers. The dress was yet another procurement from my frequent forays into the local charity shops, all of which were getting to know me well.
We had planned and agreed everything meticulously, as is required in something of this nature. We all had to be comfortable with everything that would happen.
As soon as the front door closed, I was grabbed, held, and my hands handcuffed in front of me.
‘Is this really her?’ one of the two additions asked as I was being prepared.
‘Yep. This is the dirty bitch.’
‘She’s gorgeous. Can we fuck her?’
‘Perhaps later. We want to make the most of this chance to use a toilet tart now that we have one.’
I was manhandled up the stairs and into the pursaklar escort bathroom, where a chain was placed around my neck and padlocked. The other end was secured around the toilet’s base.
The young men wasted no time in getting to work.
‘Hold out your hands, tart; I want a crap.’
My first customer lowered his trousers and briefs and squatted over my cupped hands.
I watched transfixed as he pushed, and a long large brown log began to appear, finally breaking free and dropping into my waiting palms.
I placed it, as ordered, into a bucket standing nearby before taking up position as he commenced pushing again. This time smaller dollops of brown smelly stuff landed in my hands. As he finished, I added the second load to the bucket and, grabbing some toilet tissue commenced cleaning his bum.
Once I had completed the second task to his satisfaction, I dropped the tissue into the toilet as instructed while my next client took up position, ready to drop his offering into my outstretched hands.
His was much harder and came out in one sizable lump, therefore requiring much less work to clean with the toilet tissue than the first.
After receiving the deposits of four of the seven, someone suggested it was time to pee on me.
I was lifted into the bathtub, to which the chain gave just enough slack.
One of the guys grabbed my hair and pulled my head back so that my face was looking at the ceiling.
‘Open your mouth, cunt,’ I was ordered.
I did as I observed one of them unzipping his fly and pulling out a substantial cock before pointing it in my direction.
His stream shot out initially, completely missing my head. After a readjustment of direction, I felt the warm flow wash over my face and eventually into my open mouth. When my mouth was full, the overflow ran down my chin and over my dress. It felt that the first to use me as a urinal had provided enough amber liquid to douse my dress totally.
I waited, getting damper and damper as one after another took up their position to fire their jets of golden waste towards my upturned head.
After the fifth had emptied his bladder into my mouth, leaving yet another sharp acrid taste, I was made to stand up in the liquid that had gathered in the bottom of the bath.
‘Time to see some more,’ one of the men said as he approached me with a pair of scissors.
‘Let’s cut the dress off,’ he announced in a matter-of-fact way as he slipped his scissors down the fabric and began to hack. Either his scissors were blunt or the material much tougher than he expected, but it took quite an effort to cut my dress so that it eventually fell off, leaving me standing in just my damp bra.
‘What’s that hiding?’ one of the excited party asked.
‘Pimples! Nothing worth seeing,’ another added in jest.
‘Grapes,’ another added as my breasts again became the butt of ridicule.
‘More like Blueberries,’ a further voice chipped in.
‘Let’s see them then, ‘ one commanded as my bra was cut away to leave me naked and cuffed.
‘Can’t see anything,’ one of my tormentors said as he moved toward me, squinting as if unable to see my petite breasts.
.’Never mind,’ Kyle said, ‘Pretty face, sexy arse, glorious bush and tight pussy are all positive. We can’t expect everything like full breasts from a dirty slut like this.’
He proceeded to grab my tits and massage them roughly, ensuring my nipples stood proud between his fingers.
I was then made to kneel with my face almost touching the bottom of the bath so that I could lick the urine standing in the bottom. As I did so, my upended backside was the target for many slaps and smacks.
‘We want to see you take a shit,’ one of the men stated in an authoritative voice. ‘And make it a big one.
I stood and squatted with my bum over the bath side so that anything would fall onto the floor and not with me in the tub.
‘Hold your arse open,’ I was ordered, ‘So we can all see the filth coming out of your dirty shit hole.’
I stood and turned around, showing my cuffed hands. The cuffs were removed, and I again took up my squatting position pulling my bum cheeks apart to allow everyone the view they desired.
Knowing what they had wanted to see, I had stuffed myself the previous day with junk food until I was fit to burst. I had then denied myself the relief of using the loo until this point passing a very uncomfortable night in the process.
I pushed and enjoyed the relief of finally being able to empty my bowls even though the main turd exiting was large and hard and stretched my bum hole almost to the limit.
‘How fucking hot is that?’ one of the guys said, ‘Seeing a slut take a shit.’
‘Once she empties herself, I have something long and solid that could take its place,’ someone else stated.
‘I’ve never seen a woman shit before,’ another added.
It was one of those painful toilet times as I pushed hard to ejaculate my turd. It finally exited and landed on the floor quickly, followed by further sincan escort smaller additions.
‘Well done bitch,’ I was told, ‘Now get showered and ready to go out.’
‘The plug was removed from the bath allowing the pee in the bottom to flow away. The shower above was turned on, and every eye stared at me as I washed with soap under its warm flow.
‘Wash your bum hole out,’ I was ordered. As they all watched, I pushed a soapy finger in and out and up and down my bum crack.
‘Wash your dirty cunt, cunt,’ I was commanded.
I lathered up my bush and again pushed suds with my fingers deep into my pussy.
‘Clean the outside. Rub it vigorously.’ I did, several times.
‘Now your breasts. Lots of soap, and play with your nipples.’ I obeyed.
Eventually, I was cleaned, dried and ready.
‘Now you see that filth that you deposited on the floor? We want some of it back inside you, so stick it up your cunt.’
I picked the turd up, broke a piece off, and began pushing it up into my pussy.
‘Good girl. Very obedient, just what we like.’ I was told. ‘Now go to the bucket, choose a lump of someone else’s shit and use it to refill your arse.’
When I lifted the hardest-looking lump out of the bucket, there was a great ‘whoop’ of delight from one of the guys.
‘That’s mine,’ He called out excitedly.
‘Now stick as much of that into your filthy shit hole as you can.’
Once again, I obeyed, turning around so they all obtained a clear view as I pushed someone else’s shit into my bum hole. After five minutes, I felt as full as I have been earlier.
‘That’s enough,’ a voice barked, ‘Now put this on.’
I was handed a new bra which I took gingerly due to my fingers being covered in smelly brown scat. As the guys realised this, they let me go to the sink to wash my hands.
‘Now put it on, ‘ I was ordered again.
It was nothing fancy, just a plain grey padded bra in my size.
‘Now put some of that shit between it and your nips.’
Again I obeyed and getting my hands dirty again by taking another turd and dividing it. I packed my bra with someone else’s waste.
‘Good girl. Now wash your hands and put this dress on.’
The dress, if it can be called such, was more like a long sun top that just reached my thighs, leaving me with bare arms and legs and, as I was not provided with any panties, I knew I could easily offer an unintentional eyeful if I were not careful.
Dressed so inappropriately and with my front and rear passages and bra full of shit, I was led out to a car so that we could go out for lunch. I was mortified and nearly called the whole thing off. If it had been windy, I would have done.
We arrived at the café, for that’s what it was, and having placed our order, we took a seat.
‘How do you feel?’ Kyle asked.
‘Sick,’ I replied truthfully.
‘It’s fukin filthy but fuckin sexy you sitting there full of shit,’ someone else countered as he sat down with us.
I could hardly eat my burger, and not just because of my condition. I had had two the previous day and would have prefered something different. Still, I forced it down all the time, looking around, convinced that every person in the café was eying me up in my short, skimpy dress. I was also aware that I was beginning to smell because it was relatively warm inside. I was turning redder by the second.
I sighed with sheer relief when we finally left to return to the house. As we returned, all the guys were in paroxysms of laughter in the cars.
‘I reckon they could smell pig,’ in that café, one of them stated as I gladly walked through the door into the confines of the house.
‘Cow’s smell too,’ another interjected, ‘My uncle has a farm and cows smell awful.’
‘Some cunt’s can be pretty smelly too,’ someone else stated, joining the fun in trying to outdo the other in their verbal humiliation of me as I was led back upstairs to the bathroom.
‘I think the loo requires a clean,’ Kyle said, preempting anyone else. ‘And she needs a wash, so stick her head down the pan.
I was forced to kneel while my head was pushed into the toilet bowl. When it could go no further, I was doused with a torrent of cold water as the system was flushed.
‘That’s called a ‘Swirlie,” Kylie announced proudly, using the name I had given him.
My head was pulled up so that all could see my dripping hair and wet face.
‘Again,’ Kyle ordered after the cistern had filled.
I was again thrust into the toilet as another flush cascaded around my head.
This time when I was pulled out, I was made to kneel with my hands cupped and plead for someone to use me as their personal toilet slave.
‘Please, will someone shit in my hands?’ I asked.
There was no shortage of volunteers from those who had not previously relieved themselves, all squatting above my open palms to ensure their toilet tart received their portion.
After collecting the various deposits, I placed them into the bucket as I had done in the morning.
‘Now,’ Kyle ordered, ‘You take a handful of shit and smear it inside the toilet pan.’
I looked up at him in puzzlement, but after a moment’s hesitation, I obeyed, took a handful, and began smearing it around the inside of the loo.
‘Good job,’ someone said even though I had no idea why I was performing this operation.