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Weak Work
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: June 1st, 2012

At my computer, I sit. I check my email. No reply from you. I start to compose a message, I'm interested in what you think of the story.

A loud smash breaks down my door as you emerge; stiletto boot leading your casual stride into my room.

"Shit face!" You say excitedly and in the most endearing way possible despite the name; your 8" heels click against the hard floors as you make the two step walk to my chair.

You tower over me menacingly but with a kind smile, "Toilet, we need to talk about your story! Get on your knees so I can give you a proper review."

I do so immediately and you smile down at me, "Good toilet," you saw, lifting your booty and turning. I get a big disgusting whiff and start to cough; your booty rumbles horrifyingly and I shiver with fear.

"Yes, toilet, I unloaded a lot before I got here; you can tell right?"


"Oh, good, the shit face can speak...but not now!" You say as you lower your booty onto my face, immersing it in an untold hell of stench; the amount unloadings that escaped this ass was immeasurable and now all that rested right on my face.


You sigh contently, "Nothing like the wind in your face, eh toilet boy?"

You lift a leg slightly and fart again which is plugged up by a three inch wide log; you groan and push a little harder to launch the monster right at my face.

I start to cry.

You poke my balls hard with your stiff stiletto heel and I scream out in pain.

"Open mouth toilet, here comes the...train!"

You waste no time in sliding out a tremendous, eight inch log straight down my open mouth, bringing panic to me as soon as it crosses my lips.

"Mmmmmm, I feel really good toilet; I think I might just have to demolish you all the way."

I shake no and scream and cry.

"Yeah, I think so toilet," you say as you immediately start pushing very hard.

"I think this experience will help you toilet," You grunt and groan as you crackle out several more train cars of shit right into my crying, screaming mouth as it fills to the brim and starts to dump directly onto my sludge-stained face.

You raise up slightly, "You look like hell toilet; let me clean you up."

It only takes a second for a gallon or more of thick dark sludge to shoot out all over me, covering the solid shit with a nice fresh coat of diarrhea.

"Mmmmmmm, very good toilet; just one last thing."

You lean forward all the way, touching your boots with one hand and clutching and rubbing your booty with the other. You strain just a bit before launching a ten second shart that rippled against the liquid shit on my face as the wind blew past. When you were done your booty sparkled; you shook it a little in my face, tauntingly.

"So did that help shit face?"

I just look at you, my eyes broken, defeated.

You aggressively step forward, "We can do it again if you didn't understand!" You yell, your booty rumbles, louder than before, to remind me it's always ready to unload.

"Yes, yes, Goddess; thank you very much," I manage to spit out as the sludge drips and falls from my face.

"Good toilet,"

You lean and fart towards me before exiting through the broken door.

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