I was eager to escape the bustling city life and spend some quality time with my parents at their luxurious beach resort. The minute I entered my parents' apartment, I noticed something wasn't right. The air was thick with an unfamiliar scent that immediately made me feel queasy.
"Ugh, what is that smell?" I asked, wrinkling my nose.
"Probably the seafood from last night's dinner," my mom replied nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
But as the hours went by, the smell lingered—and so did the discomfort in my stomach. It started off as a gentle rumble, but soon enough, it escalated into violent cramps that left me doubled over in pain. I tried to ignore it for as long as possible, but eventually, I couldn't hold it in any longer.
I rushed into the bathroom, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes from both the pain and the fear of what might happen next. With trembling hands, I pushed open the door and stumbled towards the sink. I couldn't bring myself to sit on the toilet—not when I was already feeling so weak-kneed.
"Kitty, what are you doing?" My dad's voice echoed in the confines of the bathroom. "Are you okay? Do you need help?"
But I couldn't respond. All I could do was focus on the sink in front of me, my vision blurring with the strain of holding back the urge to empty my bowels. The cramps were unbearable; they felt like someone was twisting a knife inside me. I had to relief myself soon or risk embarrassing myself further.
With a loud groan, I lifted my skirt and spread my legs apart, leaning on the cold marble of the sink for support. I took a deep breath and lowered my ass, feeling the tip of my buttocks touch the edge of the sink. With one final push, I released the dam holding back the torrent of shit inside me.
It came out in a hot, rushy gush—an explosive mess of mushy poo that splattered against the sink and slopped over onto the floor. I let out a low moan of relief as the heaviness in my gut finally dissipated, leaving behind a foul stench that filled the air.
I stayed like that for a moment, panting and trying to catch my breath, my cheeks flushed and my heart hammering in my chest. Slowly, I turned around and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Embarrassment and shame washed over me as I took in the sight of my disheveled appearance—my hair sticking up in tousled clumps, my eyes red-rimmed from tears, and my once-clean clothes now smeared with shit.
"Kitty, honey, what have you done?" My mom's voice was filled with concern. "Oh my God, you're covered in—"
I held up a shaking hand to silence her, not wanting to explain or justify what had just happened. With one last look at the mess behind me, I turned and fled the bathroom, retreating to my room to rinse the filth off me and try to forget what had just occurred.
