Emma peered down at herself in the mirror, admiring how well her figure hugged her black lace dress. It wasn't often that she got to feel this confident, but today she had made sure to dress up to impress. Her date had been scheduled weeks in advance, and she wanted everything to be perfect. The dress clung tightly to her curvaceous body, accentuating her ample breasts and round ass as she swayed gently from side to side. A pair of black high-heeled shoes only added to the sultry look she had been going for.
As they made their way to the restaurant, her stomach began to rumble ominously. She'd been stuffing herself with pasta or hours, and it seemed like no amount of water could quench her hunger. By the time they reached their destination, she felt uncomfortably full but couldn't bring herself to stop eating. The thought of not finishing what was on her plate seemed almost blasphemous.
They ordered drinks and appetizers, and as more food arrived, Emma found it harder and harder to contain her bursting stomach. She suppressed a belch and promised herself that she would walk it off later. The main course arrived, and she dug in with gusto, barely paying attention to the flavors or textures of the food. All she could think about was how much she needed to release the pressure building up inside of her.
Back at home, her date paid the bill and walked her to the door. She thanked him profusely, promising another date soon before rushing into the bathroom. The moment the door shut behind her, she ripped off her dress and kicked off her heels, revealing plump thighs and toned legs. Her stomach was distended as if she were nine months pregnant.
Emma took a deep breath and lifted up her pretty little ass, aiming her dripping asshole at the toilet. With a loud fart, she released some of the pent-up gas but still felt incredibly full. She squatted on the edge of the toilet, struggling to find a comfortable position as her nerves began to fray. Her stomach heaved with every contraction, pushing against her insides in protest. With a loud groan, she unleashed an enormous shit onto the plate that she'd prepared earlier, barely making it to the toilet in time.
The turd was massive—a testament to the amount she had consumed. It was dripping with mucus and slime as it oozed down her crack and onto the floor. Emma watched in awe as it grew, stretching out until it almost touched the edge of the plate. A wave of relief washed over her as she finally emptied her bowels, but a part of her thrilled at the thought of teasing her partner with this mess.
"Time for dinner, slave," she called out, her voice echoing off the walls. A moment later, the door opened and a worry-filled look crossed her date's face. "I told you I wanted to treat you tonight," she purred, handing him the plate. His eyes went wide when he saw what was on it, but he couldn't refuse his mistress.
They sat at the table, and he carefully picked up the plate, bringing it closer to his face. His nostrils twitched at the acrid smell, but he didn't flinch as he got his first taste. It was disgusting, of course—he couldn't forget that this was shit he was eating—but the look of satisfaction on Emma's face made it all worthwhile. She watched, her dark eyes glittering with excitement, as he swallowed more and more of her offering.
When he finally finished, she reached over and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "My, my," she said coyly, "that was quite the appetite you have, slave." She stood up and strutted off to the kitchen, confident that tonight's date had been one for the books. As she heard his moans from the other room, she knew that he would be back for more—and she couldn't wait to oblige.
