Jamie's Sick Journey

by bluepervina - © 2003

( fm, scat )

The Story: A guy named Brett tells about when he was 14 and his 14 year-old girlfriend, Jamie, has a poop accident. She tells him later how much she likes it, and they find themselves wanting to play with-and eat-her shit again. (You have been warned!)

 

----1----

When I was fourteen I was stuck with having to rely on mere circumstances to move my romantic life along. At that age, it's nearly impossible to influence the "where" and "when" of dating, but I at least had one open option, most of the time: the movies. So it was quite often that my parents dropped me off at the multiplex theater to meet my fourteen year-old girlfriend, Jamie.

We, of course, were going to see a movie... supposedly. But the real plan was to sneak off and have some private time, which we never got anywhere unless we ran off from the movies. We had friends who always told us what the movies were about, so that we could answer questions from our parents later--which they always asked, of course.

We'd been doing our little theater sneak for a solid two months, but still we were only kissing, with occasionally my hand being allowed under her bra or panties. But that was OK. After all, I'd managed to get three handjobs from her by then, plus one speculative suck, the last time we snuck off. It was so tantalizing, being that close to going the distance. So when Jamie unexpectedly had her problem, we were both ripe to take advantage of it.

As we usually did when we snuck out of the theater, we found this deserted alley behind a nearby TJMaxx store, where there was a cardboard disposal dumpster sitting in front of this alcove for a loading area. The light above it was busted, and it was really dark in the shadows. The moon was out good enough to see by once you got used to it, but Jamie was scared like crazy that I was even thinking of taking her back there. I was horny, though, and so was she, and she followed me up into the loading alcove.

I leaned her against the door and kissed her for a long time, and then she pulled away and said, "OH MY GOD!" I thought somebody was sneaking up on us or something, so I turned around to look; but nobody was there. Then I smelled a really nasty shit smell. Jamie was crying and covering her face. She had pooped her panties while we kissed.

Sobbing, pitiful, she begged me to help her get her panties off so they wouldn't mess up her legs or shoes. Buzzing with desire, yet conflicted by honest concern for her, I knelt there in the dark while she held up her skirt. I carefully, slowly, pulled her crap-filled panties down her legs and over her feet. If this has ever happened to you, I guess you know how long that takes, when you're trying to be careful and do it so you don't make a mess on yourself. It was forever! I had all kinds of trouble just balancing the panties so the big mass of turds didn't fall out onto her. And she just cried and cried.

Meanwhile, I got to stare at her pussy--lots of hair! -- and at her shit piled inside her panties. I was so rock hard by the time we were done getting them off. We threw them in the cardboard disposal dumpster and started laughing about it. The smell was gone, since I guess we were used to it, and I was super turned-on to think that Jamie's shitty bare ass was right there waiting for me under that skirt.

She let me pull her skirt back up, and soon I was back kneeling again, but this time she let me lick her pussy while she spread the lips. It was my first rug-munching ever, and I knew I'd be doing that to every girl I could from now on!

Jamie just groaned and humped against my face. Finally I got really going and slurped way under her ass-and got my tongue covered in her shit leftovers! I knew it right away, since the taste is so strong, but I didn't care. I was so horny, I'd have eaten the shit right from her ass if I thought she'd fuck me.

And, at the rate we were going, it was only going to take me licking her a little more before I'd be sticking my dick right up in there.

But she turned around and stuck out her ass, and said in a husky voice, "Lick my butthole, OK?" It was stunning. She was completely transformed from the weeping little girl of a few moments ago. She reached back and spread her cheeks apart, and even in the moonlight I could see her ass so white like chalk and the streaks of shit in the crack like black tar. I dove right in.

It wasn't wonderful, but I was new to sex anyway. For all I knew, that's what girls all liked. So I ate it all up. I licked and kissed and tongued every part of her butt-her cheeks and her crack and her tiny wrinkled asshole. She moaned louder and louder. Finally, when I just absolutely had to fuck her, I stood up and undid my jeans. Jamie turned around and instantly laid on me the hottest, sloppiest kiss we ever had. I mean she attacked me! Groaning like wild and grinding her crotch against my leg, her tongue went all around in my mouth. She was getting off on tasting her shit in my mouth.

As for me, all our pressing together while we kissed got my cock to the point of no return. I came before I could even get my pants properly down. But later I let Jamie reach her hand in and feel the mess, and she giggled and said she liked it. Then she licked her fingers off.

"Wow," was all I could think to say. For a very long time.

---- 2 ----

We talked about it the next day on the phone, whispering so nobody would overhear. She was an only child, but I had to make sure my brothers were long gone before I could even think about having that conversation.

"God, Brett 3; I'm still really freaked out," she said.

"Me too," I agreed. I wanted to add, "I can even taste your shit in my mouth a whole day later-and I've brushed my teeth like 100 times" -but I didn't want to make things worse. If she hated it, I wasn't going to make her hate me, too. For the first time in my life, I was falling in love with a girl.

I'd come five more times since standing on that loading dock with her, less than eighteen hours before. Every chance I got, I was in private stroking, thinking back about how sick and twisted and wonderful it had been. Now, on the phone with her, I began to have my doubts that she felt the same way. But, she'd kissed me so hungrily last night! She had to have liked it at least a little 3;.

Still, I was fourteen, and I didn't know yet in life how most females approached new weird sexual situations. Jamie was testing herself-and me-conversationally, and I just got lucky enough to instinctively keep my enthusiasm to myself until she perceived that it was safe to be that way herself.

"Well, I guess I just forgot I had to go to 3; you know 3; number two," Jamie whispered, then giggled. "To take a *shit*. I'd been holding it all day, since in the morning at gymnastics practice. And every time I remembered, I'd either be like, right in the middle of something else and having to wait 3; or else I'd just forget because I was busy. Then we started kissing, and it was just coming out before I even realized it. I'm so sorry."

My throat was dry and raspy, I was so horny again and desperate to do something about it with her. My cock might not survive too much more rubbing without some serious pain, but I got it out anyway while I listened to her apologize. "It's OK," I managed to croak back, clearing my throat. "I really didn't mind, you know?"

There was a long silence. I could faintly hear a dishwasher running somewhere in the background. She coughed. Finally, she said, "It made me so horny."

"Me too!" I immediately agreed, and the reality of her feelings sent me over the edge, my jism pumping out across the carpet in my room, over my discarded pants and shoes and a book from school. Fuck yeah! She liked it!

"Really?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Yes, absolutely," I managed to say back, controlling my voice as I stroked myself back down. "I can't stop thinking about it, I loved it so much."

A small pause. "Jeez," Jamie whispered.

"Yeah," I said.

"Do you think-you know-is this what people, like, is this how-" she trailed off.

"Is this how sex is?" I finished for her. "You mean, with it being dirty like we were?"

"Yeah," she brightened, obviously relieved that she'd found a kind of acceptance of what she wanted to talk about. "I mean, the health teacher would never talk about that, I'm sure. You know, like, God!"

"Yeah," I laughed.

"And nobody's parents would ever-ever-admit anything about sex anyway.... So, you know, like it just leaves kids to figure it out, right?"

I agreed, of course, because I honestly felt the same way and was just as confused and amazed about the mystery of it all. She and I were exactly in the same place about it, for sure. We liked it, we wanted more, but we were shocked that we did, and we were worried about whether or not it was a normal thing or a right thing. And we had no clue how to find out. More, we didn't want to risk trying to really find out 3; because what if we were freaks? How bad would we feel then?

But what I said then was, "Yeah, like I'm sure your friends aren't ever going to talk about it anyway, not those preppie girls!"

We laughed. "That's for sure," Jamie said. "Not even Allison ever talks about the details, you know, and like it's common knowledge she's been doing it with that high school guy since last summer."

For a while we got off onto the subject of people we knew who we thought were really doing it-fucking with dicks inside pussies-and about what we thought that must be like. "Nice," we agreed. "Really good. Must be, since everybody wants to do it!"

Jamie asked me if my brothers talked about sex. "Sure," I said. "All the time, but not with details, like how they do it with their girlfriends. They just talk about how a girl looks and how they'd done it with her or how they'd like to do it with her. Not like, you know, with specific details."

"Oh," she said, clearly disappointed.

"Listen," I tried to say cheerfully, "I really liked it. I really did, Jamie."

For a breathless moment I sat with those words ringing across the fiberoptics, the shock freezing me in time as I realized what a freakish thing I'd just admitted to for the second time; but it was a passing panic. Jamie saved me.

"Me too," she said simply. "Me too."

Then her voice grew more determined, and a happy chill ran down my spine. "Can we do it again," she asked, "on purpose next time?"

---- 3 ----

As it turned out, Jamie couldn't wait for the next weekend.

That Thursday, as I passed her on the way to fifth period, she grabbed me by the elbow and roughly yanked me to a halt. "Get out on a pass at 2:00, OK?" she hissed. "I gotta see you real bad at 2!"

Her wild blue eyes were wet with need, and she stared me down as I attempted to stammer the obvious question.

"W-w-where?"

"Oh," she released my arm and frowned, thinking. "The cafeteria. Yeah. Nobody's in there by then, right? And the little teacher's dining room off to the side is lights-out by two o'clock. I had to go in there last month to look for Mrs. Vinson's purse when she thought she'd left it. The place was dark and quiet, the lunch ladies were gone 3; and 3;" she grabbed my arm again and pulled my ear down to her mouth. "It's got it's own bathroom!" She squealed the last part in a delighted shrill whisper, then kissed my cheek quickly and skipped off.

"Don't forget!" she called back over her shoulder. I was sure there were plenty of other kids around, laughing at me for looking like such a pussy-whipped guy, but fuck them all. No one ever understands how wonderful that status really is. Plus, Jamie's skirt was really short that day, and I liked seeing her move down the hall, my dick growing thick as she finally turned the corner and the tardy bell rang.

At two I was there. Mr. Holt let me go without a second thought. I always had my work finished by then, anyway. The hallway was deserted at the entrance to the cafeteria; in a moment I was inside the darkened cafeteria, and Jamie was waiting.

"The door's locked, wouldn't you fucking know!" she spat. I'd never seen her so edgy and bossy, but it was turning me on. She grabbed my hand. "Come on. It's like a graveyard in here. There can't be anybody in the kitchen now, either. Let's check it out."

She was right. A couple windows high on the wall offered us the only light in the large, tile-clad industrial kitchen. It was deserted and clean. At the back we found a surprisingly large single toilet bathroom, with six lockers on one wall, a nice sink in a counter, and a wicker chair beside it. The toilet was on its own wall, plenty of room to get up close to it on either side or in front, to see what I wanted to see.

"This is it!" Jamie gushed, pulling me into the bathroom and locking the door behind us. She flicked on the light and promptly took off all her clothes, hanging her blouse and skirt neatly on the hooks that she found on the back of the door. Her tennis shoes and panties she stuck in one of the lockers. Once again, I felt distinctly as if I was in a warped state of being, an adrenaline-induced shock of excitement that froze my brain in a sort of panic. This couldn't be happening to me! I was bound to get busted! Holy fucking shit!

Jamie had a knockout 14 year-old body. Her tits were small and perfectly rounded, the size of tennis balls, with tiny pink nipples that poked sharply upward. Her legs were skinny but her ass was round and smooth, flaring wonderfully from hips that were only slightly curvy. It was completely beyond reason-and beyond cool-that she was doing this horrid, sexy thing there with me. I could only stand and admire her body, speechless, seeing it fully nude for the first time, trying with all my might to keep from hooting and hollering like I'd just won the lottery. That's the only way I can describe how that kind of moment feels. And then, oh my God, I remembered what it was that she wanted to do, and my knees very nearly gave way.

Jamie was about to shit. Right here in front of me. And it turned her on!

She climbed up onto the toilet seat, squatting, reversed, her hands gripping the exposed pipes that rose from the old-fashioned tank module at the back. I was still fully-clothed, and Jamie didn't seem to care. She was already pushing, ducking her head down to try to see beneath her ass. She was in her own lust-blind world and barely even knew I was there. It was almost as if my only purpose just then was to serve as a witness, to be able to verify to her later that she had indeed done what she was now trying to do.

If that was to be my role, I was happy with it. How often does any guy have a chance to place himself as close as he wants to a woman's glorious, shitting asshole? I knelt with my face perhaps six inches away from her blooming rosebud and the dark turd that was already crowning from within it.

"Oh fuck, Brett, oh God!" Jamie moaned, pissing in great spurts as she strained to push her bowels. Her urine sprayed all over her ankles and feet, it was such a heavy and lubricant-obscured flow. Obviously her pussy was seriously gooped-up and causing her pee to get real sloppy. She didn't seem to care at all. Her entire focus was on her straining rectum and it's precious, dark cargo.

"Here it-ungh!" she grunted, and a thick dark log pushed suddenly out her hole, leaving it gaping, as if surprised. I didn't even watch the poop fall-I was so transfixed by her open anus. The next turd was right there inside! The end of it was almost out, so her asshole was still stretched to accommodate it. Not even one small smear of brown had left its mark on any of Jamie's skin-the first turd had fallen free and clear of any stickiness. This next one looked to be more of the same. Solid and heavy. Lightheaded, rock hard, I reached out and held my hand to catch it. God help me, but I wanted more than anything to hold Jamie's shit in my hand!

She saw what I was doing. "That's it, baby," she encouraged. "Catch my shit! Hold my hot, filthy shit in your hand, Brett! -God! This is so sick!"

Then it was out, too. Just-POP-and I was suddenly holding this hard, slippery piece of crap, maybe four inches long and a couple inches around. It was dark brown and barely lumpy at all. It smelled like a barn, but it wasn't bad. Perhaps because I was so horny, it's hard to say, but I didn't mind the stench at all. It had an odor, very strong, but not an odor that repelled me. In fact, it worked on me in the opposite way: I smelled that putrid chunk of waste and got even harder.

My mouth watered.

I remembered the weekend before, the taste of her shit on my tongue as I cleaned her ass in the moonlight. Our mouths smashed painfully together as we shared the filth between us. My lips, in fact, were still a little sore. My entire mouth had stung for a whole day afterward from the residue of feces that I could never quite get rid of. It was a tingle-and a nearly choking aftertaste-that just wouldn't go away. But now I was craving to suffer it once again. Despite everything in my brain screaming NO! NO! NO! I knew that I might once more willingly taste Jamie's fresh shit.

"Mmmmmmm 3;" Jamie's piss splattered all over the seat again, as she still squatted, moaning softly to herself. She was finished with her straining, as if she'd simply quit, leaving some more up in there for later. A lazy hand wandered down between her legs and played itself through the last sloppy spurts of urine. Small showers of it bounced back onto my own hand and onto the gift I held. Jamie stepped off the toilet and crouched next to me.

"Look, look at this-the first one's right here." Jamie pointed into the bowl, and we both leaned over and gazed drunkenly at her first turd for a long moment. The bathroom was utterly silent. Beyond the door, not a single sound could be perceived, as if we were shut off from the rest of the normal world now, we had gone too far and we were cast out. Or else we were that distracted, that overcome.

The dark log was too heavy to float much, so it had slid to the bottom of the bowl, half of it hidden down the porcelain throat. Jamie reached in and grabbed it, keeping her hand submerged in the water. We watched, fascinated, as she slowly squeezed her fingers tight, the shit diving, curling out from between her knuckles like angry brown snakes. Awkwardly launched free but still heavy in the piss-rich water, they all slowly drifted down into the curve of the toilet neck, soon half-hidden again in a messy mass of coiling shitty ropes.

Lifting her hand out of the water, Jamie let the excess pissy mixture drip back into the bowl. Some of it ran down to her elbow and dripped onto her thigh, but she didn't seem to care. She was fixated on her fingers. On the clumps and streaks of brown that were still there. Then she looked at me. In her eyes was a deep childlike terror. It was clear that Jamie was nearly overwhelmed with the horror of what we were doing. The little girl in her was trying to shake her free.

"This is so sick," she muttered. "There's something wrong with me. This is so disgusting 3;." Her voice trailed off as her eyes went back to study her filthy hand. I watched as the hormone-filled woman in her overcame the little girl. She slowly brought her hand closer and closer to her moist, pink lips. Finally, with a deep breath, she tightly shut her eyes, opened her mouth wide, and stuck in two fingers.

Instantly, Jamie's other hand shot down to her crotch. She began to rub her mound with fevered jerks. An animal ferocity seemed to overtake her. Soon her fingers were in her cunt, yanking on her hole, ramming hard. Her dirty hand remained at her mouth, now with all four fingers shoved in deep, all the way to the last knuckles. Her thumb painted a greasy brown streak down her cheek. I could see her throat swallowing over and over as she sucked. Once, twice, she gagged hard, a retching sound erupting from around her fingers that nearly made me puke. But she held her stomach, and she didn't remove her hand.

She just knelt there, eating her own shit, fucking herself, and moaning a little.

For several minutes we remained like that, Jamie sucking on the fingers of one hand while the fingers of the other violated her raging pussy. I sat there like a big idiot, unable to do anything at all, completely captivated. Probably, like my psychiatrist would say many years later, I was somewhat traumatized; but to a fourteen year-old boy, anything that involved a naked girl and her hot, open vagina could not possibly be bad in any way, shape or form.

Finally, inspiration struck. Or insanity. Basically, I completely forgot about school. I blanked totally on that simple fact. Raising my hand, I smashed my pet turd onto Jamie's little breasts. Her tiny pink nipples were instantly buried beneath a thick swipe of brown fetid goo. Chunks fell down her sides, rolled down her tummy to rest against her striving masturbatory hand, thus mashing crap accidentally into her wispy pubic hair and her heavily-stroked clitoris. I relished the feel of the thick pudding as I spread it around. I found myself painting it all over her upper body, from her waist to her neck.

And Jamie loved it. She made sounds that no middle school kid has ever heard from a girl before. If a person had been listening outside the bathroom door just then, they'd have sworn a grown dog was in there yelping like that, barking out such a rough need.

Her hand had left her mouth, totally clean, and shot down to her breasts. She began to help me smear it all around. She laughed. "Oh, fuck, God-oh, wow!" Her fingers on her pussy worked even harder, and soon she was heading into the first orgasm of her life. She stopped all laughing, fell clumsily onto her back, her legs flying out from under her. I got my hands back on her breasts, massaging the slippery, nasty ass grease even deeper into her skin. Lifting her butt off the ground, Jamie put her once-more filthy hand down to her pussy and rubbed it all over her clit. Crying out, thrusting her crotch against her determined fingers, she came.

---- 4 ----

Those were the first moments in my life that I ever gave myself completely over to what I wanted.

Fuck all consequences. I didn't care.

First, it was the sneaking out, the loading dock, my face in the crack of her filthy ass.

Then that last part, Jamie letting me watch her, letting me touch her. Me painting Jamie with her own shit.

I wanted to come. I wanted right then to blast a huge mess of jism all over the place, with her lying there covered in a disgusting sheen of brown sweaty mess. I wanted to fall on her and fuck her hard. My cock ached to get free of my jeans and ram deep inside any hole it could find. In my immature way, I was still hesitant, though. Despite what I'd already pushed myself to do. Regardless of all the proof I had now that Jamie was a nasty whore who didn't care about any kinds of normal rules at all. Still, I hesitated.

I wanted what I wanted, for sure. But there was a way to avoid unnecessary pain, too. Part of me had come to my senses. No more "fuck all consequences" for that day, at least.

"Stay here. Don't move," I told Jamie. Before she could catch her breath enough to make a sound, I was out the door of the bathroom and through the kitchen and cafeteria. A stairwell rose nearby to the second floor, and I hit it running. On my watch I saw that we'd been gone almost fifteen minutes from class. The bell would ring to go to sixth period at any moment.

I remember it felt like slow motion, how I thought some student would come out of nowhere and see me-the bell was surely going to ring too soon and then everybody would come out and get a big fat eyeful of me skipping class, running down the hall, my hands covered with Jamie's shit.

But none of that happened after all. I made it to the far side of the upstairs alcove with no one around to see me. Yanking up my shirt tail to cover my shit-besotted hand, I pulled down hard on the fire alarm-and ran like a rabbit back down the stairs.

I was all the way back down to the first floor, just leaping inside the swinging double doors of the cafeteria, before the blaring alarm siren had roused anyone out into the hallway on the first floor. There was no way I'd been seen. It was a complete miracle. Our sixth period teachers would now think we were absent, and our fifth period teachers would assume we'd gone on to the next class because of the alarm-at least, I hoped that's how it would be.

Bursting back into the bathroom, I found Jamie exactly where I'd left her. She still roamed her sexy brown breasts with one hand and lightly strummed her labia with the other. Looking me up and down, she chuckled.

"Nice idea, Brett," she said. I could barely hear her voice over the raucous alarm. Dimly behind that noise, the clatter and voices of students could be heard moving down the halls and out the building. Jamie raised her voice a little. "I had an orgasm just then, you know. Before you took off."

"Yeah," I grunted curtly, struggling hard to unbuckle my pants. My hands were still slippery from the shit that hadn't yet dried; but quickly enough I'd shoved my jeans and underwear to my ankles. Even at fourteen, my cock was man-sized, thick, and purpled. I stroked it fast and hard, aiming it right at Jamie's face. I wanted to come all over her gorgeous pink lips.

"Oh, Brett, baby!" crooned Jamie, her eyes wide. "He's so beautiful!"

That did it-my cock pumped out jet after jet of thick white cream. Gushing, the world rushing ten ways at once, I was suddenly dizzy. Staggering to keep my balance, I saw globs of my semen splatter all over Jamie's chest, neck, face, and hair. She squealed like a first grader and closed her eyes.

I swear an entire galaxy of stars exploded inside my head at that very moment. It was an orgasm that still shakes me today to remember it. I lost all control of myself. My knees buckled. I fell to the floor.

Beside me, as I lay trying so hard to breathe and see straight once again, Jamie's slight form stirred a little. Her laughter returned.

"Wow," was all she could say. "Wow."

We just lay there muttering that one word-that single, stupid, perfect word-for a very long time.

---- 5 ----

Eventually, doggedly, we got clean and we got ourselves home.

If it hadn't been for the excellent industrial strength pressure-washing wand that we found in the cafeteria kitchen, we'd have never been able to get ourselves and our clothes clean enough to walk back to our respective houses unnoticed. That lunch lady sink was even so big that I lifted Jamie up into it so she could take a bath.

And it turns out that granulated dishwashing detergent is pretty good for getting both the stain and the stink out. Jamie said with great seriousness, "I'm gonna have to remember that."

We finally emerged out the back door of the kitchen into the late afternoon light of the school's service alley. Nothing was back there to see us but three pigeons and a stray cat. It was four fifteen.

With a shock, it hit me. I was disappointed.

Looking over at Jamie as we emerged from the alley and began to lean our separate ways, I couldn't help but feel let down and a little jealous. It angered me to feel that way, but I just couldn't help it!

I'd been expecting to taste Jamie's shit again-and I'd missed my chance.

Pausing, we both stared at each other for a long moment. Before turning and walking our own ways home, we held that look between us. She was smiling, relaxed, twirling her damp hair around a finger. My hands were fists in my pockets.

We weren't going to kiss. It would taste awful now, and the mood was too far gone. Plus, I was seething at myself for being so thick. So we just admired each other for one more slow minute or two.

And then finally, wordlessly, we took our secrets home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Copyright 2003 by bluepervina.

Feedback welcomed!