Cassie was on vacation with her friends, exploring the city they'd always wanted to visit. Despite the fun they were having, Cassie had a confession to make: she absolutely loved using the hotel's shared bathroom. The soft, warm toilet bowl water that enveloped her bottom each time she sat down was like a luxurious spa experience, and she couldn't resist making the most of it with her own special addition.
Every time she sat on the toilet, Cassie would carefully place a massive, towering stack of toilet paper underneath her swaying hips. It reached up to her chin, and when she released her load, the tissue underneath would crumple and crackle with an audible snap-hiss-pop sound—a noise that was far louder and more satisfying than any ordinary flush.
The first few times Cassie did this, she had been nervous. What if someone heard? But as the days went on, she began to revel in the secret pleasure she was sharing with her own personal audience of one: that hard, shiny, oblong object of desire that should have been nothing more than a log ofstringify(poop); but which, in her hands, became an instrument of sonic delight.
Each day, as her friends went out exploring or lounged by the pool, Cassie would sneak back to the bathroom with a fresh stack of tissue, ready for another round of private symphonies. And each night, after they'd all gone to sleep, she would sneak onto her phone and record the very best of her creations, uploading them to her secret online account for all the world to hear.
This particular upload was special. She could feel it in her bowels, just waiting to be unleashed. The toilet paper stack was taller than ever, an elaborate tower of fluffy white cardboard that teetered dangerously as she plonked herself down. She closed her eyes, breathed in deep, and let loose.
The first few seconds were a blur of heat and pressure, the satisfying sensation of something massive leaving her body. And then came the sound. It was louder than ever before—a rapturous symphony of snaps and hisses and pops that echoed off the tiles and filled the room. Cassie let out a moan of pleasure as she sat there, just listening to the music she'd created.
When it finally subsided, leaving behind a wet, sticky mess on the tissue below, Cassie couldn't help but let out a satisfied sigh. Another masterpiece successfully recorded, shared with the world at large. As she stood up, her cell phone still pressed against the log of her creation, Cassie felt a sense of pride swell within her. She may have been on vacation, but there was nothing quite like the thrill of making music out of something as simple—and as satisfying—as a good, hearty poop.
