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Troublesome Trolling
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: February 12th, 2012

"You'll be sorry! Nobody talks to ME like that!" The text appears on my screen.

What a stupid bitch, I think to myself; a sly smile crosses my face, proud to have riled up yet another loser.

"I'll find you!"

I try to keep smiling but I can't help but feel a little chill; what if she could? Oh what am I thinking, it's probably not even a girl.

I see she is typing; hurriedly I close the program before her message comes up.

I sit in silence for a moment; I can't shake off the feeling but, then again, what could really happen? I look at the clock; 12:03. I gotta get to bed; work tomorrow.

I sit behind low cubicle walls near the corner of the office, a dazed look in my eye as I stare at quickly scrolling data. My stomach groans loudly; better take lunch.

I clock out and walk towards the elevators; I should go to the bathroom first, I walk down the hall and enter the men's restroom.

I make my way to the stall; I turn to shut the door behind me but an attractive woman stands in the doorway.

"I told you I'd find you," she smiles wide.

"Oh God, look it was just a joke, okay? I didn't mean to..."

"It's too late for that!" She barks angrily.

"It's not serious, I just..."

Her fist barrels towards my face like a freight train; it knocks me to the floor, my head bangs against the toilet seat before dropping to the floor. I cry out in pain.

She lifts me by the collar and sticks my head in the toilet bowl; I try to rise but my head is throbbing, I feel dizzy.

My vision starts to blur as I think I see the woman dropping her pants but I can't make sense of it; why would she take off her pants?

" do?" I manage to say.

She turns quickly, he foot drawn back; it fires forward and makes contact with my privates. I scream out in pain.

The woman comes forward; she looks down into the toilet bowl, looks down at me. I whimper uncontrollably, pathetically but I can't stop myself as the woman towers over me.

She turns and I see her perfect, well-fed buttocks coming towards me; only now do I begin to understand. Darkness and a strong odor follows her ass down to my face; when her creamy ass cheeks touch my face the smell is so strong I immediately gag and fight to hold back vomit.

"Better get used to that smell, it'll get a lot worse than that before we're done," she laughs; she leans forward just a bit.


My face shakes instinctively as the putrid wind blasts against my face with nowhere to go but into me.

"Mmmmmm, smell it slave; take it all!" She exclaims excitedly as her loud, long fart echoes deafeningly through the toilet bowl.


Small splashes of diarrhea spray against my face and mix with my tears from my eyes to form a brown mess on my face.

"Farts smell real good when blasted through a little shit huh?"


She fires again; I moan loudly as the noxious gas gushes evilly though my face. A pain pounds against my head as I feel the tainted air flow and taint every part of my head.

"Urrrhhhh, now...the show..." she says as she reaches down and separates her ass cheeks; a little light shines through now and I look up in horror as I see this woman's asshole caked in a layer of shit.

My horrified wonder does not last as her hole bellows out with a thick flood of shit that pushes my head back with its great force; my hair dips into the smelly toilet water as shit rains down from above.

"Stop," I scream out, gurgling this woman's waste through my mouth; desperately trying to spit it all out as more pours into the bowl over my face.

She laughs as my vision is lost under a mound of crap; I feel it get heavier and heavier until I finally choke on a solid log wedged in my throat and pass out.

I wake with a gasp under a pile of shit. I cough and lift my body forward finally, the dumps fall from my face and onto my shirt and the floor. Disgusting, an unfortunate deep inhale makes the odor stick in my nostrils; I vomit as close to the toilet as I can make it. What's the point of sparing the floor now?

I look in the mirror; I'm covered in a thick brown smearing of shit all over my face. I use every paper towel in the bathroom before I have to give up trying to clean myself. I reach for my phone to check the time; 7:20. God, at least everyone had probably gone home by now.

I leave the bathroom and I walk down the hallway; I can smell the terrible odor emanating from my body.

I pop my head out near the elevators; fuck! The receptionist is there, I saw her turn her head; she likely saw me.


I peer back out; my clothes, especially near my neck, are stained dark brown and stink something awful. "Hey."

"Going home late?"

I hesitate to answer, "Yeah."

The elevator dings; I try to hang back but she holds the door open.

"Are you coming?" I hear her call; it sounds almost like a command more than a question.

I walk into the elevator and the doors close.

As we start to descend the six floors down, I watch her pull the red emergency tab to stop the elevator.

She spins her head and looks at me with a sly smile.

"You should have told me you were a toilet William; we could have been friendly a lot sooner," she says; her pants fall, the belt jingling as it hits the floor. She chuckles, sauntering superiorly towards my toilet face.

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