As I stood before you, completely naked, I couldn't help but feel your gaze trailing down to my body. My heart racing with anticipation, and embarrassment, as I knew what you were after. "It's been almost a week since I last used the toilet," I told you, "and my last meal was a burger and fries."
When I asked if you wanted to see my "shit hole," I couldn't help but blush as I bent over slightly, thrusting out my rounded hips. My breath hitched as I felt the cool air brush against the sensitive skin of my exposed backside.
I practically sighed with relief when I let out a loud, juicy fart in your direction, leaning close enough for the rancid stench to wash over you. If there was anyone else in the room, they would have surely gagged from the pungent odor. But you seemed to relish it, pulling me closer for another whiff.
"So, you really want to see what my last meal looks like coming out?" I asked breathlessly, my voice shaking slightly despite the bold words I spoke. You nodded eagerly, and I knew what I had to do. I could feel the warmth building up inside of me, a telltale sign that it was almost time.
Slowly, I groundhogged a little, pushing down on the bulge in my stomach with one hand as the other rested protectively on my lower back. The familiar tension built up inside of me, and soon enough, there it was: a small sliver of light brown poop peeking out from between my cheeks. With a low groan, I expelled a nice big shit onto the bathroom floor.
As I wiped myself clean, I couldn't help but check my progress in the mirror. The sight of my own anus, still covered in a thin film of sweat and poop residue, made me shudder involuntarily. But you seemed to enjoy it. You urged me on, telling me to show you more.
"I bet you're getting a cold," I told you, noticing the tickle in my throat. I wanted to show you how much I was willing to do for you. So, I grabbed the thermometer off the counter and, without warning, stuck it up my ass. The feeling of the cold metal against my sensitive skin made me gasp, but I didn't pull away.
After a few seconds, I yanked the thermometer out, sloppily coating the tip with my own feces. You looked on hungrily as I showed it to you, eagerly awaiting the results. "Come here," I told you, inviting you closer. As I read the temperature off the thermometer, I couldn't help but wonder if this was really what I wanted. But then, I saw your eager expression and knew I couldn't stop now.
"It's 98.6," I announced proudly, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through my veins. You smiled widely, clearly satisfied with the show. I couldn't believe I had just done all of that for you, but there was no turning back now.
As you left the bathroom, whistling appreciatively, I couldn't help but stare at my reflection in the mirror. The sight of my truncated body, enhanced by the lingering scent of feces and sweat, was strangely arousing. But more than anything else, I felt a sense of emptiness. Had I truly just sacrificed all of my dignity for my own twisted desires?
The thought lingered in my mind as I crawled into bed, pulling the covers up over my shivering body. Maybe tomorrow, I'd try to find some sense of normalcy. But for tonight, all I could think about was the thrill of knowing that there was someone out there who found pleasure in my most shameful acts.
