Date: Sat, 18 Nov 2017 10:21:31 +0000
From: namab mass <namabmas@gmail.com>
Subject: Liam - chapter 6

This is a story involving light to moderate scat play between adult males.
All characters are over the age of eighteen.  If this isn't your sort of
thing or it is illegal for you to view it, please leave now. This story is
entirely fictitious, and any resemblance to actual individuals is
coincidental.


Liam


Chapter Six

Liam was set to packing boxes at the end of the production line on his
first week back at work.  He wasn't enjoying being back in the factory but
he needed the money, and anyway, it was still full of horny young guys to
eyeball, and to hear and smell in the toilets.  Besides, the shift pattern
had changed since the summer and the two twelve-hour shifts had been
replaced with three eight-hour ones, so the hours weren't as long.  He was
working 2-10pm that week, which kind of suited him: he'd never been that
keen on getting up at 430 in the morning.

It was mid-afternoon on his first day back when he started to need a shit.
He held it in for an hour or so, liking the sensation of working with full
bowels, but eventually he gave in and went to the toilet.  The middle
cubicle was occupied, so he took one of the side ones, sat down and took a
loud, splashy dump.  He'd been there only a minute or two when someone came
in and took the cubicle at the far side, and as usual he listened intently.
He heard the guy – whoever he was – dropping his pants, and then the
first sign of life from the middle cubicle; a faint scraping sound, as if
something light but hard was being moved on the tiled floor.  A thought
came to him.  He leaned forward silently and peered under the partition.
Someone was sitting in there, with dark blue trousers around his ankles,
part-covering the steel-toecap boots they all wore.  And on the floor next
to them, pointing to the far cubicle, was a camera.  His heart raced a
little.  Evidently he'd been right, and CallumToilet was sitting only a
couple of feet away from him!

Back on the line he mulled over what to do.  He could just message
CallumToilet online, but what if he was wrong?  What, too, if he wasn't
wrong but that it was someone he didn't fancy or didn't get on with?
Either way it could be embarrassing, and he concluded that he wanted to
figure out who he actually was before he did anything.  His thoughts turned
back to the guy in the cubicle, and whether there was anything he'd seen
that might give him a clue.  He often set himself little mental puzzles to
keep his mind active through the tedium of the production line, and he was
particularly keen to solve this one.  The boots were no help: some guys had
distinctive ones, but these were just ordinary, scruffy black boots, and
didn't narrow it down much.  The blue trousers were more promising.  There
was something significant about them, he thought, although at that moment
he couldn't work out what.  He was still turning it over in his mind as he
walked home that evening.  He was proved right about one thing only a
couple of hours later, though, when he logged into the usual site to find a
new video.  'Two hot lads take a dump,' it was titled.  Within seconds of
opening it he saw his own boots coming into the next cubicle, and he
grinned as he listened to what he clearly remembered doing only a few hours
earlier.  Then the second guy came in and the camera swivelled round to
take him in as he took a loose, farty shit.  He scrolled down to the
caption below the film and started in surprise.  'I wanna eat the first
lads shit,' it read. 'He's so cute and he smells so nice.'

The next day he was working on the line again when a grinding noise came
from under the conveyor belt, and it suddenly stopped.  They stood around
for a few minutes, until the word went along the line that they'd sent for
the mechanics, and there was nothing that could be done until it was fixed
so they might as well have a break.  Liam drifted off to the canteen and
had a cup of tea and a chat with a couple of older workmates.  Twenty
minutes later the word came through that they were nearly ready to restart
the line, so he headed back.  A couple of the on-site mechanics were still
working when he got there, a grizzled older guy and one of the trainees; a
handsome lad of about his age, whom he'd clocked a couple of times having a
cigarette in the smoking shelter near the canteen door.  He was dark;
bronzed skin, brown eyes, almost black hair in a style that really suited
him.  His dark-blue work trousers showed off his pert arse to perfection as
he bent to tighten a final couple of bolts.  Liam started suddenly.  Dark
blue trousers!  The mechanics wore them, but he didn't think anyone else
did.  That trainee was tall and slim, too, just like the guy in the video,
and those black boots looked mighty familiar.

'You done Callum?' asked the older mechanic.  'Ready to start up again?'

'Hang on,' the lad called Callum replied.  He looked up and saw Liam, gave
a faintly bashful look, then reached into the machine with his spanner and
gave a couple of twists.  'Yup, all done.  It's ready to go.'

They packed their tools into their bags and walked off as the line started
up again, leaving Liam's head spinning.  As he worked he thought through
every way he might still be wrong, and eliminated each possibility in turn.
He was sure that only the mechanics wore blue trousers, meaning that his
man had to be one of them.  He was certain that this guy was the only one
who was anything like the height and build of the guy in the video: he
almost certainly had the same boots, and to cap it all, he was called
Callum.  There'd been some kind of recognition in the look he'd given him
too.  Oh yes, he thought, with mounting excitement, he'd found his man
alright.  The question now was how to approach him.  He was pondering on
that when he remembered the other guy in the video.  Callum had said
clearly he'd been fed by a workmate, which had to mean there was at least
one other fetishist in the place.  What were the chances of that?!  Now all
he had to do was contact them!

Two days later he came out of the canteen after his break and saw Callum
standing in the shelter smoking.  His stomach dropped.  He'd concluded that
his best option would be to send Callum a message online but he couldn't
think of how to word it, and now here was a chance to strike up a
conversation with him instead.  He steeled himself and went over.

'Hi mate,' he said pleasantly.  'I couldn't blag a fag off you, could I?'

'Er .. sure,' said Callum, looking a bit startled.  'Here you go.'

Liam didn't normally smoke, aside from the odd cigarette when he was drunk,
but it was the obvious way of getting talking.  He took the cigarette
Callum offered him.  As he lit it he glanced at Callum, who was suddenly
looking slightly nervous.  His mind raced as he tried to work out if he
should try and bring the subject up now, and if so how the hell he could do
it.

'Shitty day, innit,' said Callum, gesturing around at the rain-wet yard.
He seemed to be searching for something to say.

'Yeah,' agreed Liam. 'Oh well, be back inside in a minute.'

'You've worked here before, ain't you?  Back in the summer was it, you was
around?'

'Yeah, I'm a student.  I'm just back here for the holidays.'

'Crap job, innit, on the shop floor.'

'I've had worse.  Anyhow, the money's not too bad.  You been here long?'

''bout nine months.  Was on the line first, then started training as a
fitter.  I'm Callum by the way.'

'Oh, I'm Liam.  Hi.  Bet the fitter's job is more interesting, isn't it?'

'Yeah, at least you aren't doing same thing all the time.  Money's better
as well.  Anyway...' he crushed out his cigarette and dropped it into the
ashtray.  'Best go.  I need a shit!'

He turned and sauntered off, leaving Liam to finish his cigarette.  He got
a little hard as he imagined Callum on the toilet, and wondered if he
genuinely needed to go, or whether he was going for another camera session.
He wondered briefly if Callum might have been hinting something, but that
was highly unlikely: Callum had no idea what he was into, surely, and still
less that Liam knew his secret.  Oh well, at least they'd spoken to one
another now, and hopefully another chance would arise before long.  He put
out his cigarette and went back to work.

A couple of hours later he started to need a shit.  He toyed with the idea
of holding on until he got home, but his family would be in and he'd just
have to sit on the toilet.  Far better to do it at work, where he might get
the chance to encounter someone else.  He excused himself and went off to
the toilets.  As he got there the door opened and Callum came out.  He
looked momentarily startled, said an awkward 'hi' and scuttled off.  Liam
cursed inwardly.  He found the toilets deserted, so he went into the middle
cubicle, closed the door and began unbuckling his belt.  As he sat down he
heard the door open, and someone crossed the floor quickly and took the
cubicle to his left.  He was sure it was Callum.  His shit slid down the
chute, pushed his hole open in a little soft fart, and began to slide out
with a soft crackling hiss.  The smell began to thicken as he sat there
with a big log hanging from his bottom, and then as it slid further out he
felt it starting to break.

'Plop!  Plop!  Plop! ... plip.'

He bent slowly forward as the end of his turd dropped from him and looked
under the partition.  Sure enough, there were Callum's boots and his dark
blue trousers.  They were alone in the toilets, and the silence was total.
He swallowed nervously.

'Callum,' he said softly.

Silence.  Liam wondered momentarily what to do.  He could wipe and leave
and pretend this hadn't happened.  But he'd already spoken.  He was
committed, he thought, and he couldn't back out now.  In for a penny, in
for a pound...

'Callum,' he said again.  'I can see it's you.  It's okay ... I don't mind.
You're CallumToilet, aren't you.'

'Oh fuck...  How did you know?'

'I'm on that site too.  I saw that video you put up the other day, and I
saw what you said ... ooh, here comes another one.  Listen!'  He let go
another turd, which dropped with a soft splash.  'Hear that?'

'Yeah.'

You wanna see...?'

'What?!'

'Look over the top.  I don't mind.'

In answer there was a scuffling in the cubicle, and he looked up into
Callum's face, staring down at him over the partition.  A couple more slim
turds slid from him and plopped into the bowl, and Callum's eyes widened.
Liam grinned up at him, stroking his semi.

'I've finished.  You wanna see it?'

Callum nodded, his face a picture of amazement, and Liam half-stood and
shuffled forward to let him see what he'd done.  His logs lay fatly in the
water, piled up above its surface at the back.

'Oh ... cor that's so big,' breathed Callum.  Liam could hear him wanking
behind the partition.  'Smells too.  Er ... you gonna wipe?'

Liam nodded.  Scarcely able to believe what he was doing he reached for the
toilet paper and wiped his bottom.  It seemed to happen in slow motion.  It
was so fucking exciting doing this here and now, when someone might walk in
any minute, and by the time he'd done he was rock hard.  He gave Callum a
good look at his big cock before he pulled his pants up again.

'Meet me one time?' Callum said to him urgently by the washbasins as he
washed his hands.  'Can we?  Shall we have some fun together...?'


* * * * *


Callum lived with his mum and younger brother, and with Liam also living in
the family home opportunities to play together weren't going to come up
often.  Liam didn't really expect anything to happen before he went back to
university, especially as Christmas was only a few days away.  He was
wrong, though: a couple of afternoons later Callum rang him.

'Hiya,' he said pleasantly.  'You working today?'

'Nah, not til after Christmas now.  Back in on 27th.  Are you?'

'Yeah, I'm on the early shift this week.  Just finished a couple of hours
ago.  Me mum's taken me brother up to London and they're not gonna be back
til late.  I've got the house to myself, if you fancy ... well, y'know?'

'Er ... yeah.  I'm not doing anything til this evening.'

'Cool.  You ... er, you been for a shit today?'

'Nah, it'll be this afternoon,' Liam replied, his heart racing and his cock
stirring as he contemplated what might happen.  'I usually need to go
then.'

A couple of hours later he was at Callum's house, sitting on a beanbag in
his little bedroom, with his eyes flicking between Callum rolling a joint
on the table and the videos of lads shitting playing on his computer.  Liam
didn't often smoke dope, and when he did it made him very horny.  His cock
was rock hard now, as Callum told him about his fetishes and the urge to
take a shit built up slowly in his bowels.  Callum was a bottom, he said,
in scat and everything else, and his fantasies were about serving as
another guy's toilet.  His own shit held little interest for him, once he'd
trained himself to eat by doing it on the floor and licking it to get used
to the taste, and then progressed on to getting it in his mouth, chewing
it, and then finally swallowing it.  At first he'd been sick every time
he'd eaten, but now he could handle it better.  He'd been fed by a couple
of guys recently and managed to swallow some of it.

'Er ... yeah,' said Liam.  'That video.  Was that someone from work, then?'

'Yeah,' said Callum softly, blowing out smoke, his eyes dropping to the
floor.  'Can't say who.  He's bi, but he's not out.  I got talking to him
on Grindr, and... well, y'know.  Not just that time; it's been ... oh three
or four times now.  I paid 'im first time, but now he'll just do it.'

'Fucking hell!'  Liam took the joint that Callum held out.  'Go on ... who
was it?  It's alright; I'm not gonna say anything.'

'Er ... oh well, it was Nick, the forklift driver.  Y'know, the younger one
with the dark hair.'

'No way!  He's well fit!'

'Yeah,' smiled Callum coyly.  'Such a nice arse.  He does fucking massive
shits as well!  His ... well, his mate Simon, from the warehouse, you know
him?  Yeah?  Well, he's pretty kinky too, really into piss, and he's pissed
on me a few times.  Not had his shit yet, but he's said he'll do it
sometime...'

'Fuck me,' breathed Liam, barely able to believe what he was hearing.  The
need to shit came on more strongly, setting his heart racing.  He passed
the joint back to Callum.  'You think no-one's into this, but...'

'Yeah.  Mad, innit.  You scared the shit out of me when you said you knew
about me, but then I figured that if you knew you had to be into it too,
and you'd keep it quiet.  So what about you, then?  What are you into?
You're a top, yeah?'

'Versatile, really.  I've got a mate up at uni I play with; sometimes top,
sometimes bottom.  We've shit on each other a few times, done it in our
pants together, and so on.  I do love watching a guy shit as well.  Would
you do that?  I know you're not so into your own, but would you do it for
me?'

'Yeah, I'd do that, if you like.  It is hot watching a guy, innit!  I
... er, well, you really do look hot sitting on the shitter, and it smells
fucking good.  I bet your shit tastes so nice...'  He looked straight at
Liam.  'You need to go yet...?'

'Yeah,' admitted Liam.  His heart was thumping and his stomach was full of
butterflies. 'Yeah, I do.  I'm not desperate, but...'

'Feed me,' said Callum urgently, handing him the nearly-finished joint and
looking into his eyes.  'I wanna eat yer shit.  Will you do it?'

'Er...'  Liam hesitated, caught between excitement and fear of crossing a
line into something kinkier than he'd ever done.  But then, he thought,
he'd crossed lines the first time he'd met Olly, or even when he'd shat in
front of Neil.  Backing out of this made no sense, and the prospect of
doing it was just awesome.  He took a last puff on the joint, crushed it
out in the ashtray, and looked straight at Callum.  'Yeah.  I'll do it.
I'll feed you my shit.'

Suddenly they were both on their feet, pulling off their clothes.  Callum's
body was nice and toned, and the tattoos on his arms and chest really
suited him.  He knelt down in front of Liam, slipped his boxers down and
began sucking his cock, taking it right back into his throat and keeping
going until Liam was near to cumming and hissed at him to stop.  Then
Callum turned him round, bent him over and got his face right into his
arse, tongue lapping wetly round his hole.  Liam's chute was full, his shit
was starting to press urgently against his ringpiece, and the feeling of
being rimmed like that was incredible.  He heard himself moaning.

'Fart on me,' whispered Callum.  'Fart in my face.'

'Can't ... I really need to shit!'

Callum leaned back, grabbed a pillow from the bed, and spread a towel from
the radiator over it, and as Liam watched with pounding heart he lay down
on his back, stroking his cock and looking up.

'You wanna go to the toilet?' he breathed, and opened his mouth wide.

Liam's legs felt soft and his heart was pounding again as he straddled
Callum and squatted down.  Callum's hands came up to meet him, guiding him
into position and then stroking his bottom and hips, and he lifted his head
to lick Liam's hole one more time.  He rimmed Liam for a long time,
alternately rolling his tongue round his arsehole and then thrusting it
further in, and Liam gasped and sighed with the sensation.  Then he lowered
his head back down.

'Now.  Nice and slow...' he whispered, and opened his mouth again.

'Oh yeah,' grunted Liam in reply.  'Ooh ... oh here it comes!'

He farted softly as his hole pushed open, and then he was pushing out a
solid log, grunting in pleasure and relief as it slid through his hole.  He
looked down between his legs and watched as it advanced on Callum, tensing
up slightly to stop it coming too fast.  A lump began to pull away from its
rounded, knobbly end, then broke away and dropped right into Callum's
mouth.  Callum gagged, and then bit down and began to chew, and Liam
listened in amazement to the sound of this hot guy actually eating his
shit.  The smell rose up around him.  Then his turd began to move again.
Callum swallowed hard.  'Hold it!' he gasped thickly, and then opened his
brown lips again just in time for the big brown log breaking away from Liam
to land in it, cramming his mouth and sticking out of the top.  Liam
clenched up and dropped another lump on top, which toppled off and smeared
Callum's cheek as it slid to the floor.  Liam looked down at Callum's dick,
pulsating and dribbling pre-cum even though he wasn't touching it.  He was
chewing frantically, slurping and gulping and gagging, and retching as he
swallowed.

'Fucking hell,' he gasped through his mouthful, his voice all muffled and
indistinct.  He swallowed again and retched violently.  'Oh fuck ... shit!
Your shit ... give me yer shit!'

Liam was near to cumming, his dick spurting piss and pre-cum and his head
whirling, and he sighed loudly as he did another turd; a thick, cracked
snake that went straight into Callum's mouth.  Retching and gasping, he
gesticulated frantically for Liam to hold it, but he couldn't.  His shit
was coming out and he had to let it go, and he gasped in relief as his
turds crammed Callum's mouth, piled up on his face and slid down his
cheeks.  Finally it ended, leaving Liam to wank and try and bring his
breathing back to normal, and listen to Callum fighting to eat what he
could, struggling not to puke.  The smell hung around them like gas.

'More?' he asked quietly.  'I'm nearly done...'

'Can't ... on me face ... do it now...'

Liam edged again as he strained, a gout of pre-cum dripped from him, and
the the feeling as one last slim turd left him tipped him over the edge.
He shot so hard as he finished his shit that it spurted right past Callum
and onto the carpet, and as the turd fell onto his shitted face Callum
spunked all over his stomach.

He couldn't believe what he'd done as he walked home.  Callum had been sick
as they cleaned up, and although afterwards they'd sat with another joint
and Callum had told him how much he'd enjoyed it and complimented him on
how his shit smelled and tasted, he still felt a bit guilty.  But it would
pass, he told himself, and it had been awesomely horny.  He just hoped
there'd be another chance before he went back to university.


* * * * *


Liam's grandparents usually came to stay over Christmas, but they hadn't
this year so he and his family had a quiet Christmas.  On Boxing Day his
parents went to stay with some old friends for the night and took his
sister with them, leaving him with the house to himself.  He was lazing
around watching a film that afternoon when he started to need a shit.  He
began to get horny as the pressure in his bowels mounted, remembering that
he hadn't been to the toilet since the previous morning's huge hangover
dump, and realising that with everything he'd eaten yesterday he was likely
to do a real toilet-blocker.  Once the film finished he got his laptop and
logged onto the video site, and his cock grew harder still as he watched
some slim lad shit his pants and sit in it.  All of a sudden he knew what
he was going to do, and he hastened upstairs and made his preparations.
Back downstairs on the sofa he lay and wanked, heart pounding in excitement
as the need to take a dump grew stronger and stronger.  He pulled down his
tracksuit bottoms and knelt down on the floor in his boxer briefs, psyching
himself up to take a shit there and then; anticipating how good it would
feel when he finally let go.  Then he had an idea.  He stood up trembling
in anticipation, pulled his pants back up and went through to the
kitchen. The dog stirred in his basket as he went to the back door, and
then out into the garden.  It was dark and freezing cold, and completely
silent.  He couldn't even hear the usual hum of traffic on the town bypass.
He glanced around at the neighbours' houses, but he knew the family on one
side was away and on the other side the curtains were drawn tight.  No-one
could see him.  Even so, he drew back into the shadows.

'Ooh I need a shit,' he whispered to himself, his breath condensing in
front of him.  'Ooh ... oh fuck...'

He pawed at his cock as he stood, breathing hard, squirming a little in his
desperation.  Then suddenly he could wait no longer.  He pulled his
tracksuit bottoms down round his thighs, bent his knees and stuck his
bottom out.  For a second or two he was conscious of the cold, and then his
body took over, he gave in to the overpowering urge inside him, and gasped
out loud as he relieved himself.  His log was thick and solid, and it
pushed the back of his pants out into a big tent before it collapsed and
spread across his right cheek, then his left, and down between his legs.

'Ah ... ah ... oh!'

He pushed a bit and did a load more, all hot and slimy on his bottom in
delicious contrast to the cold nipping at his legs.  His pants were full
and heavy, and the smell around him in the still air.  He heard voices
then; a couple of lads walking down the path that passed the back of the
garden, and he shrank further back into the shadows even though the high
fence hid him from view.  As the footsteps went by he pushed out the rest
of his shit, feeling exquisitely naughty, and reached round to finger the
big lumpy bulge he'd made.  He straightened up then, wanking through his
pants, and headed inside.  Back in the warmth of the house he peeled off
his clothes as he made his way upstairs, with his vapour trail following
him and his turds pushing exquisitely around on his bottom and the
sensitive bit just behind his balls.  In his bedroom he admired what he'd
done in the mirror, and took a couple of photos.  He'd thought he'd
finished shitting, but then as he gave a little push he realised there was
still more to come, so he went through to the bathroom, where he fumbled
his hard cock out of his pants and held it over the bath.  He breathed in,
pursed his lips, and strained.

'Oh ... oh fucking hell!'

Piss trickled and spurted from his cock as his shit forced its lumpy way
out of him, packed his crack and spread further across his cheeks.  He
couldn't believe how much he was doing, and he yelped and moaned in ecstasy
as he kept on shitting and the smell grew more and more potent.  He was
near to cumming by the time he finally finished, and whilst he calmed down
he went back to his bedroom, took another picture or two and admired
himself in the mirror once more.  Then the urge to sit in it gripped him.
He scuttled back to the bathroom, wiggling his filthy bum, put down the
toilet lid and lowered himself down.  He held still as his shit touched the
wooden seat and rocked to and fro, teasing himself and gasping again as his
lumpy mess nudged to and fro.  His cock was dribbling and twitching in
excitement.  Then he gave in and sat in his brown pile.

'Oh!  Oh!'

The sensation drove him wild.  He rocked and bounced and wriggled from side
to side, spreading hot shit all over his bottom and up between his legs,
crying out with pleasure.  He calmed down a little, sniffing at the stink
he'd made, and reached for the poppers bottle.  As he leaned back another
lump squashed up to his balls and drew an ecstatic yelp from him.  The
poppers turned him on even more and he began to move again, rocking to and
fro and side to side, moaning out loud.  He sat there in his shit for a
long, long time, alternately moving and squishing until he was nearly
cumming and then relaxing with dark, filthy fantasies racing through his
mind.  He wanted to get dirtier; filthier than he'd ever been before.  He
wanted his face covered in shit.  Suddenly he stood up, stepped forward
onto the plastic bag he'd put ready, and pulled down his pants.  As he
stepped out of them he twisted round and looked in the mirror at his
bottom, almost completely covered in sticky brown shit.  Momentarily he
wished he'd brought his camera through to the bathroom with him.  Then the
urge seized him again and he picked up his destroyed pants and put them on
the toilet seat, pulling them back to expose the great, compacted brown
lump he'd done.  He knelt down, took another hit of poppers and held his
face in close, so close that he could feel the warmth of his shit and the
stink roared up his nose.

'Oh God,' he breathed.  'Fuck...'

His head was whirling as he teetered on the brink, willing himself to stuff
his face in his shit, even open his mouth and try to eat it.  His cock
pulsed in his hand and dribbled on the floor.  He leaned in again, sniffed
deeply and sighed.  Closer he went and closer, until his face was so nearly
touching it and the stink overwhelmed him.  Closer still ... and he came.
He couldn't stop himself.  His head jerked back, and he cried out once more
as his cum spattered against the wall.



Enjoyed this?  Feedback and ideas are very welcome: namabmas@gmail.com

Please consider donating to Nifty so we can continue to enjoy this
excellent resource.