Simon Says Squat, a story by Josh Terrence

bb/mb/oral/anal/mast/rimming/scat/piss

Author's note: This story depicts sexual acts between males of various ages. If you are offended by sex between teenage boys, preteen boys or between males of any age, why are you here? If you are not a legal adult or if this content is illegal in your locale, leave now.

This story is a work of pure fiction. The taboo acts depicted in this story are not condoned by the author, this is fantasy only. All Characters in this story are portrayed by actors 18 years of age or older. This disclaimer applies to all installments of this story, past and present.

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Dinner is Served

When I got home, I went through the side gate and put my bike in the garage, feeling my tummy cramp as another wave of gastric pressure washed over me. I stopped for a moment and held my tummy, then I hung my rear end out and gave a hard push. In an instant, a hot, soft pile exploded from my butt, cramming the seat of my underwear. It smelled intoxicating, and I delighted in the sheer mass, loving how I filled my undies with it all at once. I reached back and felt my load from the outside of my pants, lifting it and letting it drop while I admired how heavy it was.

Unable to resist the urge, I slid my hand into the seat and treated myself to an intact loaf. Before I enjoyed the stinky treat, I held it up to my nose and took a deep whiff while I admired how long, thick and brown it was. I pressed it up to my lips, feeling the warm, moist butt brownie smear against them, then I slipped it into my mouth. As soon as it was stuffed into my toilet mouth, I let go of a satisfied moan and smashed it with my tongue while my head spun with delirious pleasure.

While I was still smashing and smearing my naughty mouthful, I reached back one more time and ran my hands over the bulge in the seat of my pants. I loved how I could feel how hot it was through the fabric of my pants, and was looking forward to enjoying the full pile. Satisfied with my drooping pant load, I went inside through the kitchen and found my mom in the living room. She was reading something on her tablet when I came through the door, but my smell was so powerful that she picked it up as soon as I was in the house.

“Simon, you stink,” my mom complained, then she looked up from her tablet and saw fresh poop smears all over my face. She gasped and set it down on the arm rest, then in a tone that communicated her shock and concern she asked me, “Honey, what have you been doing?”

“I've been eating poop, mama,” I said in a small voice, watching as her eyes got big at the site of the inside of my mouth, which was inundated with a thick layer of my poop. My teeth were caked with it, and so were the roof of my mouth and the lining of my cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she exclaimed softly, her tone laced with worry. Using her fingers, she manually guided my jaw so that my mouth was opened wide. She inspected the inside of my mouth with a look of alarm, then she looked my 4'6” frame up and down for a moment, as if she were taking stock.

Before she could say anything else, I announced, “I pooped my pants, too.”

With that, she took my shoulders and turned me so that I was facing away from her, then she pulled the waistband of my pants and underwear back and looked in the seat while I watched over my shoulder. Acting on sheer instinct, I reached back and squeezed the seat of my jeans in an effort to smear more poop against my butt.

“We need to get you upstairs and get you in the tub, honey,” she said, her voice filled with angst as she stood up. Before she could take my hand, I turned to face her and held my arms up for her to pick me up. She looked down at me with questioning eyes, so I gave her a needy gaze and she relented, grabbing me under my arms and hoisting me up, then she placed me on her right hip while I rested my head on her shoulder.

“I have something else I want to tell you, mama,” I said, feeling incredibly naughty as the stink of my poop load danced around our faces.

“What is it, honey?” she asked with a tone of concern in her otherwise soft voice. I picked my head up from her shoulder and gave her a serious look, making sure I had her attention before I went on.

“I had poop when I came home from school,” I told her, then I pointed to the middle of the living room floor, where my encounter with Paul took place. “A boy walked home with me, and I ate his poop load right there.”

“Honey, we can talk about it after your bath,” she said, then she carried me to the stairs while I went on.

“Another boy went poop for me later,” I admitted, looking at her face for a reaction as we scaled the stairs. She responded by running her fingertips through my hair, but I wasn't done. “When he was going poop in my mouth, he called it caca. It tasted so good, and he went a whole bunch for me.”

When we reached the top of the stairs, she rubbed my back lovingly and said, “I've heard you call it caca before, honey.”

“Sometimes I still call it caca, but my favorite word is poop,” I told her, and she nodded with a sympathetic expression as I went on. “When I was riding my bike back I had to go poop, so I went to the park and did it.”

“Why did you go to the park, honey?” she asked, and I gave her a naughty smile.

“I wanted to poop my pants in front of strangers,” I admitted, feeling my pleasure swell. “So I went to the park and there were kids playing in the sandbox, so I stood in front of them and pooped my pants, then I mushed it all up. I wanted them to see me doing it, mama.”

“I see, honey,” she said in a gentle tone. “How about if mommy gives you a bath first? Then we can sit and talk about it when you're all clean.”

“But I wanted to tell you why, mommy,” I complained, and she gave me her attention. “It's because they were all littler than me, and I wanted them to see me have poop in my pants like a naughty boy.”

“Okay, honey,” she said, still trying to diffuse the conversation. “What do you think they thought about that?”

“That even though I'm 12 and they aren't, that I'm still a baby,” I admitted. “That's what I wanted them to think, though.”

“Let's get you cleaned up, sweetie,” she said, pushing the bathroom door open and turning the light on.

Right away, I caught my reflection in the mirror over the sink and rested my head back down on my mom's shoulder. She looked in the mirror at the two of us, and I wondered what she thought about having a 12 year old boy who pooped his pants on purpose. I could see the poop smears on my face and on my teeth, then I opened wide and admired the thick layer of poop that was still frosting the inside of my mouth.

“I stink a lot, huh?” I said, and she nodded. “Are you ashamed of me for being in a poop mood today?”

“No sweetie, I'm not,” she assured me. “I just want to get you cleaned up so you don't get a rash.”

With that, she set me down and I watched her run my bath. While my bath was running, I reached into the seat of my underwear and pulled a bountiful handful of poop out so I could cram it into my mouth. While I was macerating my naughty mouthful, I reached back in and pulled out what was left. I pushed my crotch out and looked up at her, then I let my pee stream go and soaked my jeans as I packed my mouth with the final handful.

I felt so naughty wetting my pants on purpose, even though I'd already pooped in them. Even as I chewed and smashed my pantload with my teeth and tongue, peeing my pants seemed to put an exclamation point on my act of depravity, and I loved it. Instead of the reaction I was hoping for, my mom patiently undressed me, then she used a wet rag to wipe my butt and backside.

While she was wiping my bottom and crotch clean, I picked up my undies and turned them inside out, then I greedily crammed the poop matted seat into my mouth and moaned with depravity. She stopped what she was doing as soon as she noticed that I had my underwear in my mouth, so I made it a point to suck as hard as I could on my undies, enjoying the flavor of pee and poop while my little hard on twitched and my rear end sizzled with delight.

“Honey, I want you to finish what you're doing and hand those to mommy,” she said, so I reluctantly took them out of my mouth and held them up to my nose for a final sniff that brought me nothing but pleasure before I let her take them.

While the tub was still filling up, she wiped my face with a clean washrag. She had me rinse with mouthwash, then brushed my teeth for me. She brushed them a second time before guiding me into the tub. She took my wet and dirtied pants out of the bathroom, then returned and washed me from head to toe.

When my soak was finished, she wrapped me in a towel and carried me to my room, where she laid me on my bed. She instructed me to lift my legs, then she applied ointment to my butthole and baby lotion to my buns. Next, she slid a clean pair of undies on me.

“Am I your baby?” I asked her with a hopeful tone when she sat on the side of my bed and kissed my clean forehead, and she nodded. “No matter what?”

“No matter what, honey,” she assured me.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Did you hide my lucky shorts from me?”

“How about if we go sit together on the couch and talk about it?” she suggested, and I nodded up at her.

When we made it downstairs she cuddled me in her lap an rubbed my back while I rested my head on her shoulder, then I asked, "Are you prouder of me when I don't smell like poop?"

"I'm proud of you the same no matter what," she assured me.

"So you were proud of me when I had poop in my mouth and in my pants?" I asked, and she took a deep breath.

"I wasn't happy that you had poop in your mouth, Simon," she explained gently. "I wish you wouldn't have done that."

"So you were ashamed?" I asked, and she kissed me on the end of my nose and shook her head no. "But if you weren't proud of me, then you were ashamed."

"Honey, I wasn't ashamed at all," she tried to assure me.

"Then are you proud of me that I had poop from two boys this afternoon?" I asked hopefully, casting a needy gaze up at her.

"Yes baby, I'm very proud of you," she said, running her fingers through my damp head of hair. "Do you want to tell mama why you wanted to have poop today?"

"I had a sexy day at school," I told her. "And after school, I brought a boy home and was eating his stinky butthole. It was extra stinky and it tasted so good, and he told me that he had to go poop really bad. He said if I didn't stop he was gonna have an accident. I wanted him to, so I didn't stop. Then his poop came out and it tasted the best, mama.”

“It doesn't sound like your little friend wanted to poop in your mouth,” she observed, and I gave her a naughty smile. By this time, my little boy boner was raging at its full length, and I had a swell of horny pleasure stirring in my tummy.

“He didn't at first, but then he saw how much I liked it,” I explained, feeling my bottom tremble as pleasure started to spread through my body. “I was smashing his poop with my tongue and making it stinkier than it already was, then I told him I wanted him to finish going in me.”

“Why do you think you enjoy having poop in your mouth, Simon?” she asked, and I bit my lower lip as I prepared to confess my naughtiest desire.

“Because I want to be a toilet, mama,” I admitted, looking up at her face for a reaction. When I couldn't read her expression, I asked, “Does that make you ashamed?”

“No sweetie, it doesn't,” she said in a soothing voice, rubbing my bare back. “But mommy doesn't want you to be a toilet, Simon. You're a sweet little boy, not a toilet.”

“Will you be proud of me if I'm not a toilet?” I asked, and she nodded. “You won't be proud of me if I am a toilet?”

“I'll be proud of you either way, sweetheart,” she said, planting a kiss on my cheek.

Looking up at her, I said, “I want to be a slut, and a toilet. I'm eating poop and drinking pee now so I can take it up the butt all the time and have guys poop and pee in my mouth.”

“Can you tell mama why you want that?” she asked, and again, I nodded up at her.

“Because I like it when I take a lot of wieners up my butt,” I started, and she nodded in understanding. “I like it when I get to suck a whole bunch of wieners, too. But sometimes I get in a poop mood, and I want to be a busy toilet. When I feel that way, I want all the boys in my school to come see me instead of going to the bathroom. And I want guys to come use me for pee and poop, too.”

“Have any men ever used you for pee and poop?” she asked guardedly, and I nodded up at her. “I see. Did men use you that way today?”

“No, but I wanted them to,” I said forlornly. “I got to take a lot of big wieners up the butt, though. Even at school.”

“At school, too?” she asked, and I sighed dreamily and nodded while she processed what I just admitted to. She blinked for a moment, then she asked hopefully, “Do you mean that there are some boys in your school who have big penises?”

Shaking my head no, I bit my lower lip and said, “I don't just get laid with boys at school, mama.”

“I see,” she asked, then she took a deep breath. “Do you have any homework tonight?”

“Yeah, but I want to talk some more,” I whined. “I looked for my lucky shorts and I couldn't find them.”

“I put them away for now, honey,” she told me in a matter of fact tone, and I was hurt.

“Why?” I asked in a pleading tone.

“Because, Simon, I don't like you wearing them when you go outside,” she said. “You're practically naked when you wear those things out.”

“No I'm not,” I tried to argue. “My wiener is covered up.”

“Your wiener isn't what I'm worried about, Simon,” she said. “Those shorts aren't for little boys to wear, honey.”

“That's not fair,” I pouted, crossing my arms. “If I promise not to be a toilet, can I have them back?”

Shaking her head no, she said, “I'm not worried about you being a toilet when you have those shorts on, Simon.”

“Fine, then I'll just be a toilet everyday, then,” I told her, and she sighed. “If I can't have my lucky shorts back, then I'll just eat poop and drink pee everyday.”

“Honey, threatening mommy isn't going to work,” she told me. “And I don't think you really want to be a toilet, Simon. You're too sweet for that.”

“No I'm not,” I countered. “You're gonna see. I'll be the busiest toilet ever.”

With that, I scooted myself out of her lap and went to my book bag to start my homework while she started on supper. While I was doing my homework, I texted Raymond and hinted to him that I was interested in being his toilet if he needed one. He quickly texted me back that he had a full buttload and I felt a strong shiver of desire roll through me. We made arrangements to meet in my backyard in 15 minutes, then I hurried up and finished my homework.

Wearing nothing but my underwear, I slipped out the back door undetected by my mom and met Raymond at the gate. I led him back to the patio, where our first encounter took place, making sure that he was facing away from the window. I encouraged him to drop his pants and went to my knees behind him, then I looked to my right and spotted my mom watching us with a dismayed expression. I gave her a look of defiance and parted his plump buns, exposing his brown pucker.

The scent was intoxicating as I drew it in with my nose, then I lustily tongued his hot poop chute, all the while watching my mom's expression. When I felt his thighs stiffen, I locked eyes with her and opened wide, eager for my mouthful. The moist crackle that filled my ears and the dark, pleasing stink that filled my nose told me that dinner was about to be served, and I moaned in anticipation. When his hole bloomed, I could feel the heat roll out of it and encase my face, then the solid tip of a thick poop log touched my lips.

I was in a state of orgasmic bliss as the massive chocolate bar glided through my lips. There was almost no give to it, so when I felt it hit the back of my mouth I had to begin smashing it with my tongue. My mom was watching me with disbelieving eyes as I broke up the trophy sized poop log with my tongue and my teeth while it continued to grow in length. When it finally pinched off, I had a delightful four inch tail that was protruding between my distended lips, and I loved it. I turned my head to face the window, giving her a full view of my crammed mouthful and the luscious loaf that didn't fit. With a naughty moan, I used two fingertips to push it the rest of the way in, then I began a slow, pleasure filled maceration. With my anal orgasm raging, I crawled around to Raymond's front side just in time to be treated to a hot stream of pee that coursed into my brown head of hair and cascaded down my horny body.

With my mouth still full and my boygasm still punishing my senses, I wrapped my hand around Raymond's big boy boner and stroked it. When he was ready to cum, I knew all of the signs and opened wide, letting him add to my naughty mouthful by shooting hot spunk into the stinky mass that I was enjoying so much. When I swallowed, I parted his buttcheeks and sniffed his crack while I luxuriated in the flavors that were still dancing on my palate. When he pulled his pants up, I walked him to the gate and begged him to see me in the morning. He agreed, and we made plans to meet at my gate in 6:30 in the morning.

Up Next: Simon is determined to be a toilet and a slut. But how many feedings can he procure in a day? Find out in chapter seven of Simon Says Squat

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