By: Olifantengrot
When Life Gives You Ass, Eat Shit
Day 3:
During my time here, I've consumed things that most people wouldn't even consider eating. After a day filled with consuming shit and farts, I finally have a moment to myself to use the bathroom. The journey to the restroom is difficult, my bloated stomach dragging along the ground, filled with shit, all while burping up Eleanor's farts. Tears stream down my face. After squeezing my belly through the door, I can finally relieve myself.
I try desperately not to dwell on the consequences my job is having on my body. Forced to ingest secondhand food, does that mean I'm currently shitting out thirdhand food? At least no one else has to eat it. Normally, I'd only have bowel movements three times a week, but with this diet, I'm going every day. Still, it's nothing compared to Eleanor, who shits four times a day down my throat. Who does that? And how can she produce so much shit each time? She must eat a lot, yet she still maintains such a slender figure. I don't understand. I've never even seen her eat. Then again, when I'm with her, all I perceive is darkness and the occasional glimpse of light revealing her anus or shit dropping on my face.
Having to continuously flush the toilet and burp out Eleanor's farts from my mouth, my stomach returns to its original state. "God, what a relief. I look normal again." However, the scent of Eleanor still lingers. I move to the sink, seeing myself in the mirror, barely recognizing my reflection. There are bags under my eyes from serving as a human fart filter throughout the night. My hair is a mess due to Eleanor's liquid shit functioning as makeshift hair gel. Brown stains mark my face from her shitting on me, and there are brown chunks of shit lodged between my teeth, along with saliva around my mouth from using my spit to clean her anus. Thus, I decide to take a shower. Sure, I may only stay clean for an hour or so until I'm ordered to ingest shit again, but I want to savor my brief respite.
After the shower, I apply makeup, nothing extravagant, just a means of self-expression. As I apply a bit of lipstick, I'm suddenly overwhelmed by flashbacks of being forcibly fed shit. I clutch my stomach in terror, fearing it might rupture, but it's merely a flashback. Eleanor’s ass has truly affected me.
Gazing at my reflection, I regain a sense of self. "I look kinda stunning right now," I think to myself. A thought then crosses my mind: I need to seduce someone. I've wasted these moments of freedom by wallowing in sadness; I need someone to fall in love with me and rescue me. I open the door and dash outside, determined to find a romantic prospect. However, in my haste, I inadvertently collide with Lady Eleanor's ass-cheeks, my freshly lipsticked lips involuntarily placed on her anus. Her hand firmly grips the back of my head as she releases a noxious fart into my throat.
Bbbbllllaaaaarrrrrpppppphhhhhuuuuu!
"You're going back inside, bitch! I urgently need to use you," she commands.
As we retreat indoors for another shit session, my hopes of seducing someone today dissipate as yet another wet fart blasts against my face.
Bbbbrrrrrrruuuuuupppppphhhhuuuuuppp!
Day 5:
My stomach is swollen again. Lady Eleanor is asleep, so at least I don't have to swallow anything solid at this moment. All I have to do is occasionally lick in and around her anus to maintain cleanliness. It's truly revolting, but if I want any free time, I'll have to ensure everything stays clean. Otherwise, I'll face punishment, likely something else dreadful involving her asshole or shit.
I faintly hear a bird in the distance. I imagine myself as that bird, flying away from it all, away from the shit and farts. My thoughts are interrupted by a fart blasting into my face, causing my eyes to roll backward and my cheeks to flap. I really wish I could be that bird, soaring to freedom.
Pppppprrrruuuuuppppphhhhhuuuuupppuuuu!
"Good morning, Shit Eater. I have a particularly large shit waiting for you, specially prepared for your birthday." My birthday? I completely forgot.
"Here's your chocolate cake, Shit Eater," Eleanor says, thrusting a hefty log down my throat.
Bbbbbbrrruuuuuuuuuuuuuppppppppuuuuffffffffffffhhhhuuuutttttt!
Day 8:
None of the men have shown any interest in me. I've become so desperate that I've even resorted to flashing the staff, but still, no response. As I lie on my bed, which I never get to sleep in, I begin to lose all hope. I rub my swollen belly, where Eleanor has placed her 'babies,' thinking, "Maybe I'm just not pretty enough."
I make my way to the dining area, where I get to consume normal food to sustain myself. As I take a bite of my sandwich, I'm reminded of her— the juicy part of the tomato sends shivers down my spine, reminiscent of Eleanor's diarrhea.
The butler approaches me. I fear I'm being summoned again to ingest Eleanor's shit, but the butler says, "Tomorrow, some people from a prestigious fashion magazine will be here to conduct an exposé on Lady Eleanor. Therefore, you can take the day off. You will remain on the premises but refrain from interacting with any journalists or photographers. You'll be expected to catch up on any outstanding work, which includes consuming the accumulated shit of Lady Eleanor." Shocked by what the butler just told me, I start to think to myself, there's no way I could handle that buildup. These people from the magazine are my only hope.
Day 9:
As I lay in Lady Eleanor's bed with her anus in my mouth, I ponder all the possibilities. Lost in thought, I didn't realize how aggressively I had been licking and sucking Lady Eleanor's anus, causing her to awaken.
"God, Shit Eater, I'm pleased to see you're getting accustomed to your role. You're truly embracing your work. Here's your reward for your hard work."
Bbbbbrrruuuuuuuuppppppppfffffffffhhhuuu!
A foul fart escapes into my stomach, causing it to swell. But lost in thought, my mouth operates on autopilot, my tongue darting in and out of Eleanor's disgusting anus.
As morning breaks, I anticipate swallowing what will likely be the last foul shit of my life, if I play my cards right. "You'll be getting a bit extra, as it will be a while before I get to use you again," Eleanor remarks. A never-ending log of shit enters my mouth. After an hour, her ass finally retreats from my face, leaving a trail of saliva connecting my mouth to her anus.
"Don't even think about trying anything today, bitch!" Lady Eleanor says as she prepares for the day. I need to hurry and deflate my stomach as quickly as possible.
The Big Brown Day
Three people from the magazine arrive: a camerawoman, a photographer, and a journalist. From one of the windows, I can see them drive up to the mansion. Not all of Lady Eleanor's shit has made its way through my digestive system yet, meaning my belly is still somewhat bigger than normal. "This is bad! This is bad!" I think to myself as my intention was to wear something revealing to seduce someone from the magazine. As I look closer at the people leaving the car, I realize they are all women. "Maybe one of them is gay? Or maybe one of them will help me out regardless?" I wonder.
For my outfit, I decide on a white crop top with no bra, revealing a little cleavage from my B-cup breasts. My belly is still bloated, making me look as if I'm six months pregnant. I am also wearing a micro G-string, a skirt that is way too small, and knee-high boots with high heels. "I really hope this does something for someone," I think to myself.
The day starts with the people from the magazine filming a video for their YouTube channel, showing how Lady Eleanor gets ready for the day. Crucially, they miss the part where I would normally be under her ass as she does her makeup and farts down my throat. The room is too cramped for me to try anything. As the crew makes their way to Eleanor's kitchen, I make sure to stay out of Eleanor's sight.
Eleanor shows the people from the magazine how she keeps a healthy diet, even though she never makes her own food and normally has it brought to her as she has her second shit of the day down my throat. I notice one of the magazine people going to the bathroom, so I quickly follow. "Damn, those burritos are not sitting well. I really need to use the bathroom," the photographer says, cradling her stomach. The woman suddenly stops in pain and leans forward as a fart escapes. Not being used to walking in heels, I accidentally fall forward and land precisely between her ass cheeks as she explodes on my face.
Bbbbbrrrruuuuuuuuttthhhuuuupppp!
"Oh God, I am so sorry. And you're pregnant too, I swear this never happens. Oh God, I have to go," the woman says, completely embarrassed, running towards the toilet. I try to scream, "Don't leave me! I am forced to eat shit against my will here! You have to help me!" But the horrible smell only makes me cough. After regaining my composure, I run after the woman and enter the bathroom stalls. On the other side of one of the stalls, I can hear the woman shitting her guts out. The smell is making me sick and light-headed, but in order to seduce her, I pose seductively over the sink, making sure that if she opens the stall door, she will see my ass leaning over the sink. I wait 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes. The smell only gets worse, eventually causing me to pass out.
The photographer opens the door and sees me unconscious on the ground. She quickly checks my vitals and, finding out I am still alive, gets too embarrassed and nervous to get help. So she drags me to the stall she just exited and rests my head on the toilet seat. She was unable to flush as she clogged the toilet. The embarrassment is too much for her, so she runs out of the staff toilet.
Waking up to the smell of shit is not new to me, but I have never woken up next to such a large amount of shit that wasn't from Lady Eleanor and that wasn't inside my mouth and stomach. The photographer is burnt; she will be too embarrassed to help me. My options are the camerawoman and the journalist. I get up from the stall and search for where they have all gone.
Lady Eleanor has moved on to the interview portion. She gets asked very easy and flattering questions like, "How does a woman of your success maintain such a healthy lifestyle?" and "How do you describe your beauty?" "The real questions should be, 'Do you use a toilet or do you just decide to shit down some innocent woman's throat?'" I think to myself. They are in Eleanor's office. The room is too big; I will immediately stand out if I enter. The photographer is nervously looking around, hoping not to see me. Suddenly, the camerawoman walks towards the doors. "Now is my shot," I think to myself. I lean against a wall, twirling my hair as the woman exits Eleanor's office. "Hello there, lady. Do you like what you see?" I say in the most seductive voice possible.
"Wow, congratulations on the baby. When are you due?" the woman says. I look shocked, realizing my stomach is still huge because of Eleanor's shit inside me. "I, umm... Listen, you have to help me! I am being held here against my will! You can save me! Just take me with you!" I scream at the woman, pleading for my freedom.
"Ah, Lady Rose, I have been searching for you! It seems your assistance is needed in the staff restrooms! Come with me!" the butler screams at me as he violently grabs my arm and pushes on my back. "I am so sorry. Rose is dealing with a lot of hormones at the moment, causing her to say all kinds of things. If you'll excuse us," the butler says, dragging me with him. I scream one final "Help!" but no response.
"Damn, she looked kinda hot. Shame she is crazy because of those hormones," the camerawoman says as she walks to the car to grab some things.
The butler pushes me towards the shit-filled stall. "Lady Eleanor was very specific that you were not allowed to speak to the people from the magazine. Seeing as she is not around to punish you, I will hand out a punishment in the meantime. Before you is a clogged toilet, someone has filled it to the brim. You will be eating the contents of this toilet as punishment, and I will wait outside. You are not allowed to leave until everything is eaten. You can start now."
Oh God. Please, no. Not this. Do I have to eat shit again? Tears well up in my eyes. My body trembles as I lower myself down, the toilet bowl looming before me. The smell of the photographer's burrito shit is just as strong as before. The pile of shit is still steaming. I close my eyes, lower my head, open my mouth, and take the first bite, my lips sinking into the soft, warm filth. The taste coats my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Each swallow is a battle as my stomach further expands. Finally, after what feels like hours, the bowl is empty. My stomach is completely full. Usually, shit is forced down my throat, but now I had to eat it myself.
With shit still smeared on my cheeks, I open the door, realizing the butler was never waiting behind it. I could have left at any moment without eating any of the shit. As I try to squeeze my bloated stomach through the door, the journalist approaches. Seeing my huge stomach and the shit around my mouth, combined with the stench, she looks at me and says, "Did you just eat shit? That's gross."
"That was it. That was my last chance to get out of here today, wasted. All three of the women now think I'm either gross, crazy, or an embarrassing conversation waiting to happen. They will never save me," I think to myself. Completely defeated, I say, "Yes, I just ate the shit of your photographer. I am forced to eat shit every day here, and there is no hope of changing that. What of it?"
The journalist looks at me in horror and says, "Do you want me to help you escape?" My eyes light up. None of the staff have ever treated me as a human before. "I can help you escape, but you will have to be put into the trunk of our car, and given your current size… it might be a challenge," the journalist says.
"Oh God, yes! I don't care how tight the space is, I need to get out of here today! I can't deal with Eleanor's accumulated shit on top of everything else!" I scream.
"Shhh, keep quiet! People will hear. There is one thing I have to ask though before I bring you to my car. Can I use you when you arrive at my place? Just once. I've always had this fantasy of shitting down a lady’s throat."
My heart sinks at what the journalist just asked. "Is everyone crazy?" I think to myself. I have to do it to get out of here; one last dump can't hurt, right? The journalist might be a bit overweight, but she won't shit as much as Eleanor, right? Then again, my stomach is already completely full. Fuck it. "You can use my mouth just this once, but get me out of here as quickly as possible."
The journalist looks relieved and says, "Thank God, I would have saved you regardless, but now I also get something out of it." She sneaks me out of the house and into the car trunk. With shame, I get pushed into the trunk. Indeed, it is very tight. I start to think, "If she would have saved me regardless, I might be able to talk my way out of this. Then again, when do things ever go my way? I just have to literally suck it up."
The people from the magazine finish the last part of the day by taking photographs for the magazine. The theme is appropriately Lady Eleanor’s ‘Ass,’ capturing pictures of her ass in all kinds of clothing and in all kinds of positions.
I suddenly hear the people from the magazine stepping into the car and driving away. My belly full of shit sloshes around as we drive to drop off the photographer and the camerawoman. The last stop is the journalist's house.
My round body is lifted out of the trunk of the car. We walk up some stairs to the journalist's apartment complex. I get many gross looks as I am still wearing a ridiculous outfit with shit all over my face and my belly dragging on the ground. The apartment is a complete mess. The journalist quickly undresses and says, "God, I really have to use you. Thanks again for offering yourself like that. It means a lot. Where will you go after this?"
"Oh, I will go to my parents and warn them they need to leave the country. After that, I will leave the country as well. Anywhere is better than here. Say, can we maybe not do the shitting down my throat thing today? I am really full," I sheepishly reply.
"Well, I guess so, but I fear I might accidentally inform Lady Eleanor about her toilet trying to escape the country," the journalist says.
"This bitch," I think to myself as I get on my knees and open my mouth. The journalist's ass approaches my face, showing a lot of cellulite—something Eleanor doesn't have. As her wet asshole is pushed against my mouth, a fart forces its way down my throat.
Bbbbrruuuuuupppppppppuuuuppphhhhhpppp!
Though never as strong as Lady Eleanor's farts, more farts blast into my face. Another difference is the bush of ass hair pushed into my mouth. It becomes very clear she has not washed herself well, or at all, in the last week. "Now for the main course," the journalist says as hot diarrhea is pumped into my mouth. Like many shits before, this one bloats my stomach as it expands even further. After what must have been two hours, her anus finally lifts off my face, my mouth still full of shit. The journalist gets dressed and says, "This was really fun, but I have to get home. Bye."
She leaves me in the apartment. I look completely confused with my mouth still full of shit. "I thought this was her apartment? Where is she going?" High heels can be heard from the bathroom. As I turn my head towards the sound, I see those all-too-familiar curves. Black high heels, a tight black mini skirt that doesn't leave much to the imagination, showing off her massive ass. A white blouse with long sleeves and a black bra holding on for dear life, cleavage all the way down to her belly button. Glasses with a black rim, the end of which is placed in her mouth. Long black hair like the goddess she is. Eleanor has been here the whole time.
"So you thought I didn't notice you trying to seduce my staff?" she says, slowly unbuttoning her blouse. "You thought, 'If I dress like a slut, someone will want to fuck me and help me escape Eleanor's big bad butt.' Well, I noticed. Everyone noticed. Do you really think no one saw you bumbling into that car?" Eleanor takes off her underwear and starts to do her slow dance again, lining my mouth up to her asshole. My mouth, still full of shit from the journalist, gets placed against Eleanor's anus. "Let's push you to the limit, my little shit eater." As a gigantic shit that has been accumulating throughout the entire day shoots into my already full stomach, tears run down my face. "This will break me," I think as I realize this is going to happen forever.
Bbbbbbbbllllluuuuuuurrrpppphphhhhhhpppbbbbbrrrrr!
A Conversation with Janet
Some days have passed since the shitting of a lifetime, and I've learned my lesson. It was a miracle I survived that barrage of shit and farts. My mind has never fully recovered. I can't believe I ever wanted to leave Eleanor. Sure, her farts are horrible, and her shit tastes like death, but it's not that bad. I actually like it, hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I really don't want to leave anymore.
Currently, I'm seated in a dog cage, unable to be under my goddess's anus. She wanted to fill up her own tank before unloading on me. I really can't wait for that to happen.
The doors to the office open, and a large, fat naked woman wobbles towards Lady Eleanor. I look in shock as a smaller man is dragged behind her. I am completely puzzled as I cannot figure out how the limp man is attached to the woman.
"Well, just the woman I wanted to meet. My name is Lady Eleanor. This thing next to me is Shit Eater, my female toilet. It's a pleasure to meet you," Eleanor says. Janet uses the man as a chair, resting her legs and putting pressure on his neck, back, and legs. It is at this moment I realize the man's entire head is lodged up the woman's ass. How did that happen? I think to myself (read: Pizza Boy Meets Mama: Wrath of Janet).
"I do not appreciate how I was collected. I am completely naked. I am not like one of your ass slaves you can humiliate as you please. I will not let this happen again," Janet says.
"God, yes, finally away with the bullshit. Tell me, why do you do it? Why do you force your shit down someone's throat?" Eleanor responds.
"You know, my daughter Mira came by and said I needed to be honest and tell you that I love this man up my ass. But if I am being honest, I just really love shitting down the throats of cheaters and putting them in their place," Janet says.
"Wow, so it's about punishment for you?" Eleanor retorts.
"This man under me is just a shallow man. Seeing my tits and ass sent him over the moon. For two weeks straight, this man has been up my ass, yet I still notice escape attempts from time to time. And so he still needs to be punished," Janet says.
"You know, I fixed that problem with my little Shit Eater. She does whatever I want," Eleanor says.
"Really? I would like to see that. Ask her to force her head up your ass. I bet she will run away immediately," Janet says, looking at me.
"Oh God, why did she say that? I don't want to have my head up her ass. I'm fine eating her shit and sucking up her farts, but not that," I think to myself. Eleanor notices my worried look and opens my cage.
"Up my ass, NOW!" Eleanor commands, pointing at her ass as she stands up. Janet smiles and leans forward, pushing a huge fart down the man's throat as I hear his muffled scream.
Ppppppprrruuupppphhhhhhuuuuupppp!
Desperately, I try to push my head up Eleanor's ass. But her anus is too small. Relieved, I say, "My lady Eleanor, it is impossible."
"Let me help," Janet says, grabbing the back of my head as she pushes me face-first into Eleanor's brown hole. The force of her hand is inhuman as I hear Eleanor moaning. Eleanor's hungry ass slowly expands as it consumes my face. When my face is fully inside, I plop into her intestine, becoming one with Eleanor's shit.
"Wow, uuuummmm. Oh God, I came, that's so good. We definitely need to hang out, Janet. Wow. When do you let them out?" Eleanor says.
"Well, that's the thing I'm still figuring out. This is the first time someone has been up my ass, and I haven't let go for a single second," Janet replies.
For the first time in her life, Eleanor has met someone she can call a friend as they talk about shit and farts and forcing those shits and farts down people's throats. Janet tells a story about this one dude, the husband of her daughter, who escaped her clutches once. Eleanor knows of him. The man from the video. Eleanor explodes down my throat.
Bbbrrruuuuurrrrrrppppphhhppppuuuuuu!
Eleanor realizes there is one man out there that remains to be conquered. Maybe the combined strength of Janet and Eleanor would be able to take him out.
It might take Drake out.