I had my first sexual feeling when I was nine years old. I remember riding on a see-saw with my best friend Judy and feeling a kind of ‘itch’ between my legs. It was a good itch, and I wanted to rub it to make it feel better. But being a girl, I was taught that touching “down there” was a naughty thing to do. I kept my feeling a secret from everyone, even Judy. At night, I would lie in bed and crumple the sheets into a ball and insert it between my legs. I had my first orgasm that way.

When I was twelve, my brother showed me some dirty videos that he had gotten from his friends. We locked the door to his room played them on his VCR. I saw my first naked man on a video. I pretended to be disgusted by it, but my eyes were glued to the screen. I remember thinking how odd it was for a boy to have a piece of flesh hanging between his legs. And it was so large too! How could boys stuff it in their pants without it being noticed, I thought. My brother had some other really weird videos too; like women peeing on each other. At first I thought it was sick but as I watched further, I couldn’t help from getting aroused. I guess my kinky nature came from watching those videos. I also got off by looking at my parent’s history book of painting; I called it “The Treasury of Filthy Art Masterpieces” because it had pictures of naked men and women in it. Boy did I get turned on by them. I would masturbate by inserting strange objects into my pussy, but only at night, in bed of course. I lost my virginity, so to speak, and broke my hymen by inserting a roll-on deodorant bottle. You know, the type that has a rounded end? Of course I performed my vaginal insertions when no one was around, usually when my parents were away on a trip or something. I would get hot just thinking about sticking something new in my cunt. I remember seeing a cucumber in a grocery store and an idea struck. I thought about it for weeks. When the time came and my parents and brother were away, I heated up a cucumber in a pot until it became warm, about as warm as a real cock might get. Then I sat in front of a mirror and pushed the cucumber into my cunt and pretended it was a man’s cock. God, it felt so good and hot in there. I wanted a real cock so bad.

By thirteen I began to realize that I was different from the other girls. Nobody had the same weird ideas as I did. In fact, all my girl friends, even though they spoke a lot about boys, thought sex was dirty and dangerous. But I wanted to have sex, and I’d do anything to get it. I was desperate. The boys my age were too immature for sex, and besides, they didn’t turn me on. I guess because of the influence from the videos, I wanted an older boy. I watched more of my brother’s weird sex videos and pretended it was me getting fucked. I knew I was sexually abnormal, but I didn’t care. I wanted it all. I even got turned on by the thought of being peed on, and in turn, having someone pee on me. And I wanted to get fucked in the ass too, just like in the X rated videos I saw. I even began to insert objects into my anus. Shit, it’s so taboo sticking things up there. I also wanted to know what the taste of ‘come’ was like. I wanted to swirl it in my mouth and swallow it.

One day I discovered a video in my brother’s secret drawer while he was away in school. I put it in the VCR and watched with amazement. It showed a woman pooping on a man’s face. Even THAT turned me on! Later that night I masturbated myself while I stuck my middle finger up my ass. I smelled my filthy finger and got turned on further. I later experimented with tasting my own pee. I must be really sick, I thought.

Then, when the next summer came, we had a new neighbor move next door. He was an older man, single and tall, I watched him whenever he mowed the lawn. He looked so good in his slow, forceful stride pushing against the lawn mower. At night, I would sneak up to his bedroom window and peer in. One night, I caught him with a girl friend. He was standing in front of her. She undressed herself and turned her back to him. He squeezed her ass. I heard her say to him “Fuck me in the ass, please.” Then she got on the floor with her stomach to the ground and he took off his and mounted her like a horse. This was too good to be true, I thought. I watched with fascination. I could tell that she was really enjoying it, even though she was getting fucked in the ass. Her hand kept going between her legs while he pushed his pelvis against her. He still had his pants on but I could tell that he must have had his penis sticking out from his fly. Although I couldn’t see the cock, his back was facing me, he had his hand in front pushing her ass cheeks apart. He must be getting ready to cum, I thought. Then he said something and she got on her knees and pushed her ass to his face. He began to slowly lick her ass. Then he spread her cheeks wide and put his whole face in her crack. God, he must be licking her asshole, I thought. Then the girl turned around and put her face in his lap. I could see her head moving up and down. I guess she was blowing him. Then, he must have come in her mouth because she raised her head and I could see her licking her lips with pleasure. All the while I watched this, my panties became soaked. That night while in bed, I inserted an electric toothbrush in my cunt. I thought about sucking his asshole and drinking his come. Then I came.

The next night I looked from my bedroom window and saw the bathroom light on at my new next door neighbor. I climbed out the window sill and snuck over the ledge to the lit bathroom window. I climbed up a tree that was positioned just perfectly for a good view into his bathroom. Oh, what good fortune! The bathroom light was bright and I could see him clearly. I watched him sitting on the toilet with a magazine on his lap. He was reading it while stroking his cock with right hand. I now saw what his cock looked like. It was big and fat, like a sausage with a reddish head. It stood straight up. The foreskin slid up and down over his cock-head as he jerked off. What a beautiful piece of meat, I thought. Then I saw him reaching under his ass. Then I realized that he was shitting and getting off at the same time! He bent his head over and I saw his cum spurt from his pee-hole. The creamy sperm shot into the air hitting his mouth.

This was too good to be true. An actual man next door who enjoyed what I liked. I had to find a way to meet him but I did not have the nerve. Besides, why would he have an interest in a little girl? The next few weeks, I spent most of my nights waiting for him to appear in front of a window. One night, I peeked in his bathroom window and saw him pissing in the toilet. How strange that a man didn’t need to sit down on the bowl. He stood there with his pants down, holding his big cock with one hand as a stream of golden fluid splashed into the toilet bowl. I wished I could get a closer view. Then when he was finished, he shook it so that the remaining drops would fall off. Cool, I thought.

It took me two more weeks before I came up with a plan and the nerve to approach him. On a Saturday evening, I put on tight fitting jeans, and a tank top and with walked to his front and knocked. When he opened the door, I pretended to be interested in selling him raffle tickets from my school. I was thrilled when he generously bought two tickets and invited me in. No doubt he could tell I was interested in him by the way I stared at him, wide eyed. He introduced himself as Paul and I told him my name. He offered me a coke and I gratefully took it. We sat down in his living room. Then he started asking all kinds of questions about my parents and if I was allowed to visit him and so on. I suppose he was testing the waters to see where I was coming from. I gave him every clue possible. I sat with my legs apart and gave him coy looks, I took off my shoes and brushed my bare feet against his leg. Then I asked if he would show me around the house. By the bulge in his pants I could tell he was getting interested. He showed me around, but for some reason, he avoided the bedroom. I told him that he forgot to show me a room. He, hesitated, and told me that I probably shouldn’t see that room since it might shock a young girl as myself. I told him I wanted to see it and that nothing would shock me. He shrugged and took me in. As we entered, I saw sex pictures hanging on the wall. The photos showed men and women fucking each other. I asked about them and he told me that he liked sex. This got me aroused and I couldn’t believe what I said to him next: I asked him to show me how he did it. After a brief pause, he asked me if I had ever had sex with a man before. I told him, no, but that I wanted to find out. Like a fool, I confessed that I had looked through his window and watched him having sex with his girl friend. I told him, he was the first real person I’d ever seen having sex. Then, even more foolishly, I told him I also watched him through the bathroom window. I wanted to know all. When he heard this, he got red in the face, but did not say anything for a minute.

“Did you see everything?” He asked.

“Yes, everything,” I smiled.

Then he asked me if I’d like to take some sex lessons? “Yes,” I responded softly.

He closed the bedroom door and in a soft tone, told me to sit on the bed. I pretended to be shy but I was actually eager to comply. I sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for his response. I felt excited at the temptation, yet fearful of what might happen to me. He walked slowly towards me and stopped not more than a foot away from me. I remember him saying that he was going to teach me about the facts of sex,. I felt mesmerized, as if he had hypnotized me. I couldn’t refuse. Then I watched him slowly undress until he stood before me completely naked. God, I couldn’t believe my luck. Here was a real live naked man standing right in front of me. He told me to observe every detail carefully. I stared at his limp cock, the folds of wrinkled skin surrounding it, the dark brown pubic hair, and the bag of flesh that held his balls. Then he began the lesson:

“This is what is commonly called a penis, prick, rod, shaft, or a cock. See how flaccid it is right now? That’s because I’m not excited right now and this is how a cock looks on men most of the time. In order to see it enlarge, you’re going to have to excite me. Now to do that, I want you to hold it between your lips; so open your mouth up wide.”

I opened my mouth as wide as I could and felt him insert his penis. I liked the smell of it. It had a stale kind of odor. He held his cock in my mouth for awhile without moving. Then I began to feel it grow against my tongue.

“Feel it enlarge?” he said. “That’s because you’re getting me excited. When a man gets sexually excited, blood begins to pump into the penis and it begins to grow.”

The cock became so large that I could hardly keep my mouth open wide enough. It pushed against my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Then he pulled it out, and there it hung before me, this most beautiful and huge cock. And it wasn’t even fully erect! He began to stroke it and I watched it as it grew larger and stiffer. Oh god, it was too big! I observed bluish veins curled around the outside of the shaft; the head of the cock formed into a strange bulbous shape, and right behind it a section of smooth skin that appeared reddish in color. It looked so good! I wanted to touch it. I put my fingers softly around the shaft and squeezed its hard rubber texture. This was like reading and watching porn but much more real!

Then he stretched my tank top up until my breasts plopped out. Although I was only thirteen, I had grown up faster than most girls. My boobs were large for my age and I had large flesh-pink aureoles. He squeezed my breasts and slapped them around. I could tell he enjoyed that because his cock rose in the air every time he touched me. Then he took hold of my nipple and pulled it out and kneaded it with his fingers. I felt a rush of excitement. Then walking quickly to a dresser drawer, his cock bouncing along with his stride, he took out a rope and wrapped it around the base of his penis. This made his cock even bigger. I could see the veins rising on its surface.

“This is what’s called a ‘hard-on.’ You see, a cock is really quite a primitive device. Nature designed it to deliver fluid into a female orifice. It also uses the same tube to get rid of fluid waste. Odd, isn’t it? There’s two kinds of liquid that come out of this cock: yellow and cream. The yellow kind is called urine or piss and it’s the waste fluid. The cream colored fluid is called sperm or cum and its purpose is to impregnate females so that new cocks and cunts will get born. When a man gets excited to a certain level, it’s the cream that squirts out of this hole here.”

He pointed at the slit-hole at the end of his cock and took his fingers and spread the little hole apart. It looked kind of like a miniature pussy. It was even wet inside. He continued his lesson:

“Now a woman’s sexual organ is something quite different. It’s not as primitive as a man’s. A cunt has a design a intricate as a flower and it’s designed as a deep orifice to accept the meat of a man. Instead of ‘come’, a woman produces a fluid that lubricates the inside of her vagina. That way, the penis slides in easier and it feels better for the male and female. Unlike males, females have a piss hole that’s dedicated solely for the purpose of getting rid of the yellow fluid.”

I was getting so hot listening to him talk like that. My cunt was sopping wet. And I was learning so much too. Paul was talking sex to me like no one had ever explained it to me. He was so graphic, raw, yet so true. Now THIS is the way to teach sex, I thought. If only my parents knew. Paul continued:

“I’m going to tell you a little secret. A secret that every man knows deep down inside but is so disgusting to the average moral man that he would never admit to it. But be assured that what I’m telling you is the truth:

“Coming” for a man feels exactly like pissing, except that there’s an orgasm attached.

“I tell you truthfully; Nature has designed the cock for efficiency and reliability. When sperm shoots out of this hole, it feels just like squirting piss. And believe me, it feels fucking wonderful, regardless of how filthy it may seem to you now. I’m telling you this because there is a way for girls to increase their orgasm and to feel the same thing as a man. If you ever wonder what it feels like for a man to come, then all you have to do is to piss while coming! It’s easier said than done, believe me. However, with practice, it can be done. Normally, during sex the sphincter muscles close the pee hole so that pee can’t come out, but if you let the urine build up inside of you until it feels like it’s boiling, then it will be possible to do so. I know you think this is disgusting, but as you grow older, you’ll remember what I told you and, no doubt, you’ll try it out. And you’ll thank me for it too.”

I didn’t think it was disgusting at all. I wanted him to tell me more! Then Paul took me to the bathroom for my next lesson. He told me to take all my clothes off. As I stripped off my jeans and panties, he unwound the rope from his penis. Then he told me to sit on the toilet.

“I will now show you how a man pees,” he said. “I want you to have a good look at how its done. Spread your legs wide so that I can piss between them.”

Paul stood in front of me with that huge cock aimed between my legs. He took his fingers and spread the slit of his pee-hole apart so I could see the insides.

“Look at my pee-hole, Amy. This is where the piss will emerge from, so pay attention.”

My eyes were glued to the end of his cock.

After a few seconds, a few dribbles fell out and turned into a golden stream. The flow splashed between my legs and into the toilet and I could smell the pungent salty odor of his piss filling the bathroom. How beautiful and nasty, I thought. I put my finger into the stream and it deflected onto my breasts. Paul seemed to like this. So did I. He then aimed his piss directly onto my breasts and the nasty fluid spilled down my belly and through my vagina. It felt so hot.

When his piss ended, I had a sudden urge. I put my mouth on his spent cock and tasted the remaining drops coming from his piss-hole. It tasted so good. The flavor was just like my pee. Boys and girls have something in common after all.

“That’s a good girl, Amy,” Paul remarked. “I’m glad that you’re not afraid of a little urine.”

“I like the taste,” I replied, “but I’m afraid that I might get sick if I put too much in my mouth.”

“Oh, you won’t get sick,” Paul chucked. “That’s a myth that Puritans started centuries ago. Actually, many people in India drink piss for health reasons. Even Mahatma Gandhi used to drink his own pee every morning.”

My, what a lesson I was getting from Paul. I didn’t feel so abnormal after all.

Then Paul offered to prove it:

“Look, I’ll show you. I’ll get down between your legs and you can pee in my mouth, OK?”

“OK,” I said reluctantly, “But I don’t know if I can.” It felt strange trying to pee in a man’s mouth. I couldn’t do it at first, but after Paul turned on the water in the bathroom sink, it gave me the incentive. As I leaned back on the toilet seat, Paul held my legs apart and waited. I felt so comfortable and relaxed. My piss began to flow and Paul put his open mouth onto my gold stream. He took it all in his mouth, swallowing it as it came. God, what a weird feeling! I squealed and laughed with delight. Then he put his tongue directly on my pee-hole as the piss continued to spurt out. His tongue felt wonderful there. When I finished, he put his tongue deep in my crack and then licked my piss covered clit clean. How nasty!

“See?” said Paul. “I haven’t fallen dead, and your piss tasted so, good,” Paul smiled.

Oh, how I now wanted to taste Paul’s pee. But alas, he had already emptied his load.

“Now I want to show you my last lesson for today,” Paul spoke with the authority of a professor. “I will show you how a man goes number two.”

While my legs were still spread on the toilet, Paul sat his butt on the edge of the toilet and bent over so I could see his backside.

“Put your hands on my ass and spread it apart, Amy.” I pushed his cheeks apart and looked upon his beautiful brown crinkled asshole.

“See that puckered brown spot? Watch closely now.” I watched, fascinated, as a dark brown turd slowly came out and fell between my legs. It plopped into the toilet. The odor was tremendous. It reminded me of the smell of my uncle’s animal farm. I could see the dark insides of Paul’s wide open asshole with another turd beginning to emerge.

“Put your finger in there, Amy,” Paul ordered. I was reluctant at first, but my sexual feelings led me to want it so badly.

“Put it in there, Amy. Don’t be afraid.”

So I put my forefinger inside and felt the hot stinky goo of his shit. I ran the tip of my finger around the rim of his asshole and felt the sphincter muscles close around my finger. I pulled my finger out slowly and the turd came out with it and fell into the toilet. I saw my finger covered with brown goop.

“Oooh, how nasty,” I remarked.

Paul turned around and put my chocolate covered finger in his mouth. He licked it clean and smiled. Then he put his hand in my pussy and fingered my clit, then kissed me on my mouth; I tasted the shit on his lips. I felt so good, and Paul knew it.

Paul then abruptly ended the lesson and told me to get dressed. “You’ve been a good student, Amy. I want you to come back next week and I’ll give you your next lessons.”

I felt so sexually excited that night. I wished Paul had fucked me. Oh, well, maybe next time. I went home and immediately went to my bathroom so I could get myself “off” while I thought about my sex and piss-shit lecture. I want to do everything, just like Paul. I wanted to taste more shit and even drink his piss. I can’t wait for Paul’s next lessons.

My mother made me join the Girl Scouts when I was twelve because she thought the discipline would make me behave. I never wanted to join, but being a kid, I had no choice. Later, I found that the Girl Scouts afforded me a way to escape my house, and the doldrums of daily family life and to set out on my own. All I had to do was put on my stupid green Scout uniform and tell my mother I was going to sell some cookies. Boy, my mother was naive. Instead of going out selling, I’d go out with my civilian girl friends, and that usually meant Judy, my best friend.

Judy wasn’t as sex crazed as me. Her Sunday school lessons taught her to be afraid of life. She thought she would go to Hell if she did anything nasty. I didn’t feel that way at all. After all, why was there so much sex in the Bible, and in religious paintings, I thought. But Judy didn’t mind ‘talking’ about sex and we used to tell each other dirty stories. I never told Judy my filthy experience with Paul, though. I was afraid she wouldn’t understand and might tell her parents or something. But we were both curious about boys and we talked endlessly about them. Once, we even felt each other’s breasts and kissed to see what it felt like for a boy. Judy’s breasts weren’t as big as mine, but I liked to touch them anyway. They were so soft and warm. I wanted to feel her cunt too, but she wouldn’t let me touch her ‘down there.’ I asked Judy to rub her hand on my pussy but she refused. Her religion forbade masturbation, even if it meant touching someone else. Shit. Ironically, Judy loved to feel my breasts. I guess they didn’t teach her about lesbians in Church. I laugh thinking about what she must have thought when she later discovered that her little adventures with me, technically, made her a lesbian. Oh well, I guess she’ll go to Hell, I thought. If it exists, I suppose I’ll go to Hell too. However, I doubt that I’ll stay down there for long. With all the Christians down there, they’d kick me out.

But this day, instead of going over to Judy’s, I intended to go to Paul’s house. It was to be my next lesson in sex. I couldn’t stop thinking about my last visit with him. Every night before I fell asleep, I’d get horny thinking about all the nasty things he did. Even though Paul made me feel like a dirty little whore, I felt a strange thrill whenever I thought about his filthy behavior. At least he seemed to want me, even if it was only for teaching a little girl about dirty sex. And I certainly didn’t mind it at all! Hey, I was hungry for knowledge and you can’t get that kind of education in school or church. What’s a poor girl to do? I still wanted to know what it felt like to “come” with a cock inside me. I had practiced fucking by putting extra large objects in my pussy so that I would be able to take his large cock. That is, IF he fucked me. I also practiced getting used to the smell of poop. While taking a shit, I’d reach under my ass, just like I saw Paul doing it. I’d get a gob of shit on my fingers and put it up to my nose for a sniff. After a while, I got to liking the strange odor. I even licked some of it to become familiar with the taste. I pretended it was Paul’s shit I was licking. I guess it’s an acquired taste, I thought.

Before I went to Paul’s, I wanted to look my best, so I thought of ways to make myself look prettier and older. My mother always scolded me when I put on her red lipstick. She said I was too young to dress up like that. But that didn’t stop me. When she went shopping, I’d sneak into her bathroom and steal her lipstick and makeup. One day she caught me and did a thorough inspection of my room. She took all my makeup and threw it away. The bitch. Now what was I going to do? Then I had a brilliant idea. I know just what might work! I went in the bathroom and got a Tampax roll (one that I had stolen from my mother) and removed the cotton from it. Then I took off my panties and sat on the toilet. I shat in the toilet until a couple of nice little turds fell out. Then I reached in the toilet and picked out the smallest one. I inserted it into the Tampax roll and molded it into a lipstick tip. Then I got out my mirror and puckered my lips. I carefully smeared them with my wonderful new lipstick color. I wondered if Revlon would be interested in my idea. With pride, I looked at myself in the mirror and admired my new look. My dark brown lips not only made me look older, but spunky and sexy as well. I even used my new lipstick as an eyeliner! I giggled with joy.

Since I would need an excuse for going out, I put on my Scout’s uniform over my tank top and white frilled panties. I grabbed some Girl Scout cookies and told my mother that I was going out to sell. My mother stopped me and looked curiously at my face.

“Hold on dear, what’s that on your lips?” she inquired.

I had to think of something quick, so I told her that the Girl Scout Mistress gave us all brown lipstick. Training lipstick. It would color match our uniforms and the brownies and cookies that we sold. I didn’t really want to wear it, but it would help sell our products, I told her. She bought it! I couldn’t believe it as I laughed to myself and walked out the door.

I went straight to Paul’s house. I realized that anybody who might see me at the front door would see my uniform and only think that I was selling cookies. I knocked on Paul’s door and waited nervously. He opened the door stood there wearing nothing but a robe. When he looked at me with those bright eyes, I saw fire in them. I gave him a sexy coy smile.

“Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies, mister?”

Paul smiled back and chucked, motioning me to come in. He locked the door behind us. Paul stood there smiling. “Sure, I want some cookies, but not the chocolate kind.” Then he kissed me and ran his tongue over my lips. He then realized the kind of lipstick I used.

“Oh my, little girl, how I love your shitty mouth,” he responded lovingly. He kissed me again, savoring the flavor of my lips. I felt like I was in heaven.

“Why don’t you get more comfortable,” Paul suggested, pointing to my ugly green dress.

I took off my dumb Girl Scout uniform, leaving my tank top and panties on.

Paul invited me into his living room couch and handed me a tall glass of iced tea.

“You look great, Amy. I’m glad you came learn. I always admire the studious kind.

Then Paul handed me the tea glass and said,

“Drink this, Amy. I want your belly full for part of your next lesson.”

As I drank, Paul put his hand between my legs, spreading them slightly and touched my panties. He felt the wetness dripping from my cunt. I felt breathless, not knowing what he was going to do. He lifted his hand up and I saw my fuck juice glistening his fingers; then he put it in his mouth and tasted it, licking his fingers as if tasting the last remains of food. I could tell he wanted me and I felt that wonderful feeling of sexual heat. Damn, I was horny! Paul went into the kitchen for a minute. I observed the room and the objects of his interest. On the wall were classical and modern pictures of women and men dressed in elegant outfits. I saw a coat-of-arms, a mediaeval looking sword, a statue of, what looked like a goddess, a guitar, and books. Lots and lots of books. There was nothing in the living room that gave a hint of the nastiness that he so enjoyed. He has good taste, I thought.

Paul came back with two more drinks in his hands. He seemed gracious, and polite. He drank along with me and kept reminding me how beautiful I looked. I felt drunk with desire and I desperately wanted him to fondle me.

“You’re still young and impressionable, Amy. You haven’t realized yet that what you think now may not be the best way to reach ultimate pleasure. You’ve been taught, as most people, that sex causes misery and suffering. But I tell you that everything that seems right to you now may prove wrong in the future. There’s a world out there where certain people have discovered the secrets to pleasure. These secrets are not what civil society allows because to accept them would threaten the very structure of culture. This is why, only a few people are allowed into its membership. It must be kept hidden, and held secret from government, religion, and law. You may not realize it now, but black can turn into white and vice versa. What seems good may produce misery and what seems evil may produce bliss. It requires a balance of feeling, of experiencing the body’s sensations to produce a desired result.” I did not know what he was talking about and I actually didn’t care then, but I listened attentively anyway. He continued:

“Some unfortunate souls go through life not knowing why they feel the way they do. Priests, doctors, and teachers will say you’re abnormal and need to be treated. They’ll say you have the devil in you, or you’re mentally or physically sick. Of course the treatments they give always result in abysmal failures because they go against the nature of the human body. I bid you Amy, beware of anyone who says you need treatment. How can something that is within you, that you were born with, and passionately feel, be considered wrong or unnatural? You feel the way you do for reasons; and failure to understand these feelings and to submit yourself to the quackery that society avails you will only make you miserable for the rest of your life. You came from nature, and your feelings come from it. Instead of fighting it, learn to submit to it. Learn Amy. I’ll teach you and bring you to heights you’ve never before dreamed. Don’t feel afraid, I won’t hurt you.

“Tell me Amy, the last time you were here, did you not feel more alive than you’ve ever felt before? Didn’t you think about what happened every single day?”

It was as if he were reading my mind. Being a young girl then I didn’t know what to say.

“Yes, Paul.” Although I did not understand everything he said, I knew I wanted to stay, even at the risk of becoming vulgared out. Anyway, I wanted to learn; I needed to get fucked.

When we finished our drinks, he took me by my arm and led me to his bedroom. In the middle of the room was a card table and two chairs. He sat me down and told me to stay. He left the room for a minute and came back holding a tray in his hands. He had removed all his clothes and, again, I saw his beautiful fat cock, hanging down like a horse. He put small tray filled with several glasses in front of me on the card table.

I saw four shot glasses filled to the brim. The first three had different shades of amber fluid in them. The fourth had some kind of creamy substance in it.

Paul told me that he kept these special drinks in the refrigerator so that they wouldn’t spoil. It was part of the preparation for my lesson. He told me he heated them up to body temperature so that they’d be ready for me to drink. The first three amber filled glasses, he told me, were different flavors of piss. The fourth glass was his sperm. Paul said that it took him four jack-offs to fill that shot glass.

How gross, I thought, but I felt intrigued by this game.

Paul handed me shot glass with the lightest shade of piss and told me to drink it.

Well, if Gandhi could drink it, I guess, so could I. I carefully raised the glass to my lips and took a sip. It was hot and tasted almost like water, except for a sight salty taste. I swallowed it all and licked my lips.

Then Paul handed me the second shot-glass. It had a nice golden color but it tasted much stronger. It was pungent and I could smell the odor of piss. It tasted just like my piss, I thought. I gulped it down eagerly.

The third glass was a dark reddish amber and when I put it to my lips, the smell was acrid and overwhelming. When I took a sip, the flavor was biting and bitter.

This piss tasting game reminded me of my uncle Bob’s beer hobby. He used to give my dad various flavors of home-brewed beer: light Pilsner, amber-wheat beer, and dark Stout. This dark piss reminded me of that awful tasting Stout.

Paul explained the source of his piss-cocktails:

“The light colored piss came after drinking lots of liquid. The second glass was normal piss. And the third glass came from morning piss. I just wanted you to know that the flavor of piss depends on when and what your drink. If you want to be a connoisseur of fine piss-wine, you’ll have to understand these things, you see.”

I was learning fast. I drank the hot dark amber piss and savored the piquant boutique of this fine champagne. I got so horny thinking that this came from Paul’s flesh piss-spout.

Then Paul handed me the sperm filled glass. I sniffed it and it smelled like nothing I could describe. I took a sip. It had the texture of silky oil, and was little sweet & sour. It tasted nasty but, strangely, good. I poured the whole glass of spunk in my mouth and held it there before I swallowed. It slid down my throat and I burped.

“Would you like wine to wash it down with?” Paul asked.

“Yes, please. That did taste kind of thick,” I replied.

Paul came up to me and took my hand and put his cock in it.

“Here, why don’t you drink this fine champagne straight from the spout?” Paul suggested.

I took his cock and put the head of it in my mouth. Paul gave a squirt and the amber fluid filled my mouth.

“Now what kind of piss flavor it that, Amy?”

“It tastes like the medium blend,” I answered.

“Correct,” Paul retorted. “You’re a good student, Amy.”

I felt so proud. I continued to suck Paul’s cock but it began to grow and I couldn’t get any more champagne out. Paul explained that when a guy gets a hard-on, the muscles in the base of his penis close off the piss path and only allows a path for sperm. I felt disappointed, but I understood. However, I was willing to blow him off until he came in my mouth. I liked the way Paul’s cock pumped up and became big. It got so hard and stiff. I gave him a hand job, feeling the tight skin sliding over the shaft. I loved to look at this sausage.

“Milk it,” Paul ordered. I pumped his cock with my little hand, and watched the slit-end of his penis. I put my mouth near the head, so that I might catch his cream as it shot out. I so desperately wanted to see it come out. But before Paul came, he teased me and removed his cock from my eager hand. The told me to take my panties and top off and lie on the edge of the bed. I did as ordered.

Paul took my legs and lifted them up so he could see my pussy.

“Grab your legs, Amy, and keep them up.”

I spread my legs wide and high so he could get at me. Paul kneeled down on the floor at the edge of the bed and spread my pussy lips apart with his large hands. He put a finger in my hole.

“Oh, I see you’ve broken your hymen, my dear. I bet you’ve been fucking yourself, haven’t you?”, Paul kidded me.

“Uh, huh,” I replied. I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to feel.

Paul put in three fingers and spread them apart to see how big my vagina was.

“It looks like you’re ready for your first fuck, Amy.”

I almost came when he said that. Now, I’ll finally get to feel what its like to get fucked by a man, I thought.

“Oh YES, please, put it in me,” I cried.

Paul raised his body and I could see him holding his fat cock in his right hand. He aimed it at my cunt and put the tip at the entrance. Then, slowly, he shoved it against my pelvis. It was so huge. It felt like he was trying to put a rubber bat up my cunt. My lips spread apart and I felt a shock of pain as it entered my insides. Then as soon as it was in, the pain was replaced by a wonderful spreading bloated feeling. My insides were stretched to the limit. As he pumped it slowly back, it reminded me of shit coming out. It was as if I was shitting his cock out, I thought. My excitement grew until I was close to coming. I could see the fire in Paul’s eyes as he grunted with every stroke. Oh, my lovely shit fucker, I thought.

“Oh Amy, I want to come in your mouth,” Paul shuddered.

Then he pulled out and climbed on top of me. Paul straddled my breasts and pushed his cock towards my mouth. I took the stiff shaft and bent it down further so I could see his piss-hole. I opened my mouth wide. I could feel the base of his cock throb. It felt hot in my hands.

“Oh, fuck,” Paul cried. Then a stream of white cream spurted out of the end of his cock and struck the backside of my mouth. It was so hot. It tasted even sweeter than the shot-glass version. I savored the taste and swallowed every drop. I smiled with sexual pleasure.

Paul continued to hold his dick in my mouth until it became soft.

“Here, Amy. You’ll need something to wash that sperm down with.”

After a few seconds, Paul began pissing in my mouth. There was too much if it for me to drink so I let it fill my mouth until it overflowed. It felt good, with hot pee running down my face and neck. Oh, how nasty I felt! I knew then that I wanted to be a whore for the rest of my life.

After Paul finished peeing in my mouth, he handed me a towel and we both got up and dried each other off. I felt so relaxed and sexy. Although Paul had come, I had not yet had an orgasm. I didn’t want to just yet.

Paul handed me a glass of wine and I took several sips to clean out my mouth. By this time I was so full from the tea drinking that I began to feel like I wanted to piss. I didn’t want any more to drink but Paul told me that I should drink anyway and savor the full feeling of piss in my bladder. He told me he wanted to drink me later. I drank the wine feeling anxious for my turn to pee on him.

Paul reviewed my progress. He observed that I had tasted cum, drank piss, and experienced my first fuck, and that I had done very well. So well, in fact, that he graded me as an A+ student. I blushed like an honor student. However, he noted that I had still one important lesson to learn. He explained that the dirtier the sex was, the better one would feel. I had yet to experience the game of shit. I loved it when he said “shit.”

It was only through this experience that I would develop a total gratification of sex, Paul told me.

I felt so sexy then, that I would to anything for Paul. I’d eat his shit if he asked me. He must have realized that by looking into my bright wide-open brown eyes.

“Before I teach you this, Amy, I want you to see how it’s done. I’ll give you a demonstration so you’ll know what to do. Let’s go into my bathroom.”

We entered his bathroom and closed the door. The room walls were white and the florescent lights made it almost blindingly bright. Paul climbed into the bathtub. It was an old fashioned white bathtub with high sides. I noted how clean and shiny it looked and what a shame it would be to dirty it up. He laid, back-down, on the bottom and told me to get on top of him, sixty-nine fashion. I complied by kneeling down on his chest, facing his cock. Paul took my ass and positioned it in front of his face so that my cunt was over his head.

“You must be feeling like taking a piss now, right Amy?”

From all the tea, and piss drinking, my belly was pregnant with piss. I felt so sexy, yet I wanted to pee.

“Yes,” I exclaimed. “I don’t think I can hold it much longer.”

“Go ahead, do what you feel like doing,” Paul replied.

I looked down between my legs and saw Paul open his mouth to capture my pee. It felt so strange. At first, I couldn’t pee even though my bladder was about to burst. Then a trickle came out and I saw the drops fall on Paul’s forehead. God, I wanted to piss so bad. Then it became a stream, Then a flood. It was pouring into Paul’s mouth. I heard him drinking it! He gulped it down as it filled his mouth. God, how nasty it must taste, I thought. He pulled my ass down further so that he could put his tongue on my pee-hole. I felt the tip of his tongue there and the piss splattered in different directions. He lapped it up like a dog.

Then Paul began to pee. I bent down and took his flaccid cock in my mouth. I savored the fluid as it flowed up and splashed against my mouth. By this time there was about a half-inch of piss in the tub. The stench of urine filled the room. I aimed his flowing stream against my face and let it soak my face. I loved it.

Paul was devouring my cunt, putting his whole mouth on my pee-hole taking in every drop. I couldn’t believe how much piss I had in me. Then Paul took his hands and spread my ass apart and stuck a forefinger in my anus. I could feel his finger sliding deep inside me. I could feel a turd deep inside me as Paul played it with his finger tip.

“Go ahead, Amy. Shit it out,” Paul ordered.

“You really want me to do this?” I asked, cautiously.

“Yes, please,” Paul pleaded. “Shit on me!”

I loved the way he said that.

I strained as hard as I could and the turd pushed against his finger. Paul raised his head and put his mouth directly over my wide open anus. I couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was as sick as I was.

Because I was straining so hard, my piss stream flowed stronger. It was splashing against Paul’s neck. I forced my shit out; the turd hit the back of Paul’s mouth. It would go no further. Paul was holding my turd against me. God, how disgusting can he get, I thought. But I loved every whorish moment.

Then Paul moved his head back against the tub; I glanced between my legs. I saw him holding my turd in his mouth like a giant cigar! Then he took three fingers and put it in my ass and spread my anus muscles wide apart. Then he took his other hand and put a finger it between the other fingers. It went deep in my rectum. He reamed it around looking for more turds.

By this time, his cock had grown into a stiff sausage. I looked at Paul between my legs and I saw him staring at my red anus. He let the turd in his mouth fall out and I saw him raise his head to my ass. He put his tongue deep inside and reamed the brown goo. I saw his tongue covered with dark shit.

The smell of shit and piss pervaded the small bathroom. It was so disgusting. I felt like a piece of crap myself. I felt like vomiting. Now I know what its like to be a toilet, I thought. Well, not exactly, but Paul certainly knew, since he was eating my filthy stuff. But as the odor increased, my desire to cum grew even stronger.

I felt another turd coming so I strained so hard that I began to grunt.

“Ohhh shit, Paul: here comes another one,” I cried.

Out came an even bigger turd from my ass; hard and long. Paul took it in his mouth and let it stand in his mouth. God, It looked like a brown cock sticking out of his mouth. It looked so wonderful, I couldn’t resist. I lowered my vagina onto the top of the turd until it touched my clit. I moved back and forth feeling a fantastic glow. Paul got the idea too. He pulled my pussy lips apart and, holding the turd in his mouth, inserted it slowly into my cunt like a dildo. It felt so wonderful and strange! It felt like taking a shit from my pussy in reverse.

He worked the turd back and forth, just like a cock. The shit felt hard and bumpy and I could tell it was deep inside me. Paul smashed the turd with his face until he reached my clit with his tongue. He licked my clitoris with his shit covered mouth. I rode his face like a horse; I moved my pelvis back and forth, massaging his face with my mess. He loved it. I heard him groaning like a pervert. I could feel his cock ready to come.

God, I wished he’d shit on me, I contemplated.

I put my mouth on his erect pissy cock and ate the pre-cum from its tip. With my forefinger and thumb, I spread his pee hole apart and looked inside. He was ready to cum; his cream would come out that hole, I thought. My eyes were on fire. I wanted to watch it spurt out so I could catch it with my mouth. It looked pinkish-red inside. Indeed, it was like a miniature cunt. I put my fingernail into the crack and reamed the piss-hole, in a circle. I wanted whatever fluid comes out that hole: white or yellow; piss or sperm.

I was ready to come too. I came up with a brilliant idea. I put my other hand on his ass crack and felt around until I found his asshole. Then I slowly dug my finger into it and felt the tight muscles surrounding it shut. I put it in deep and reamed the inside in a circular motion. My fingertip found a turd. It felt funny: hard but mushy. I couldn’t help myself:

A bolt of orgasmic lightening jolted through me and I entered ecstasy. Paul came at the same time, and he spent a white stream of sperm into my throat. I tasted the hot cream in my mouth. I swallowed.

Remember that Paul’s mouth was filled with my shit while he shot his load into my throat. Oh, fuck; how unbelievably high this feels. I played with Paul’s shit in his ass, and another bolt of orgasm came.

I pulled out my filthy finger and saw it covered with hot living shit. I couldn’t help it. I put the finger in my mouth and licked it with my tongue. For the first time, I tasted the nasty scat from a real man.

I forced myself to squirt piss: the largest bolt of all hit me and I came again. “Pissing is like shooting sperm for a man,” Paul had told me. I felt like I was spurting sperm. I fell unconscious with lust with the taste of shit and cum in my mouth.

I emerged from my orgasm, a minute later. I did not realize where I was at first. Paul was smiling over me as he washed my body with soap and water. He told me that I had passed the first course with flying colors. I smiled back and kissed him.

I went home that night with a glow that filled the dark sexed night. Before I left, Paul invited me to enroll in his next intermediate sex course.

“Of course,” I told him. “When will it start?”

Paul told me it would begin next week.

I cheerily said: “I’ll be there.”

My therapist and requested that I continue writing about my young sexual experiences. Although I was now in my thirties, I still got a thrill by re-experiencing my debased past. He had read my last two papers and seemed to think that they were helping me with the therapy. I wrote next last paper, continuing my story:

* * * * *
I woke up Sunday morning and realized to my disappointment that I had to go to Church. My mom insisted that I should go to Bible class. I hated going, but what was a little girl to do? I put on my Church dress, a light blue dress, white stockings and black vinyl shoes. My mom curled my hair. I looked so cute and innocent. If only my parents knew how perverted I really was.

I went to Sunday school while my mom went to pray in the church. There were about twenty kids in my class. Mrs. Flowers, our Sunday school teacher, gave us our assignment. We were to stand in front of the class and read a passage from our favorite Bible verse. Shit, I hated to do this. I listened to several kids give their boring prudish readings. When it came to my turn, I did just as I was asked. I went to the front of the room, opened the King James Bible and read from Ezekiel chapter 4:12-13:

“And thou shalt eat it as barley cakes, and thou shalt bake it with dung that cometh out of man, in their sight.

And the LORD said, Even thus shall the children of Israel eat their defiled bread among the Gentiles, whither I will drive them.”

I read part of it again, but with more passion: “…and thou shalt bake it with DUNG that COMETH OUT OF MAN, in their sight.” God, I loved that part. Suddenly the room was dead silent. I slowly looked up and saw a class full of astonished little faces. Mrs. Flowers had her hand cupped on her mouth and eyes wide open in horror.

“Well, you *told* me to read from my favorite verse,” I retorted. “This IS my favorite verse!” I cried. You could hear a pin drop in the room.

“Well, if the Lord tells his own chosen children to eat shit, then isn’t crap good enough for Christians? I logically deduced.

In a huff, Mrs. Flowers quickly ended the class.

What was I supposed to do? Violate the ten commandments by *not* telling the truth? I thought to myself. Sheesh!

That day ended my relationship with religion. It also started the public rumors about my whorish perversions.

Would you believe it, Mrs. Flowers told my mom about my Bible reading. I was grounded for the rest of the day. I didn’t care. I’ll just spend the day in my room doing perverted things, I thought.

I went up to my room and locked the door. I laid down on my bed and thought about Paul. I wondered what kind of lesson he’d give me for my next class. I reached under my bed and pulled out a shoe box filled with my special toys. I collected various bottles, balls and items that I used for sticking up my pussy and ass. I also had a collection of dried beef jerky sausages. I liked the thick kind because it reminded me of a man’s cock. I picked out one of them and pealed off the plastic wrapper as if it were a condom. I put the raw meat in my mouth and gave it a blow job. I pretended it was Paul’s cock. It tasted salty and I imagined it was covered with piss.

I began reading a fuck story from one of my favorite sex magazines. It was about Cleopatra and her sex perversions. When I read about her sex slaves, I took a bite from my cock sausage as if it were a specially prepared cock cut off from a slave bred for just that purpose. Cock meat sautйed with piss. I was Cleopatra and could do whatever I wanted, I imagined. I savored the pissy taste in my mouth. I inserted the bit end into my cunt and let it get wet with my juices. Then I put it in my ass. I could feel a hot stinging sensation in my rectum as the spices mixed with my shit. I slowly pulled it out and put the nasty sausage to my lips. I stuck out my tongue and ran the stick along my taste buds. I could taste my pussy juices mixed with the shit. Cock jerky with fecal sauce, I fantasized.

I wish I could lick my own pussy, I thought. I wondered what it felt like for a man to put his mouth on a dirty cunt. Since I couldn’t lick myself, I did the next best thing. I went to my bathroom and got in the tub. I arched my back up against the wall until my pelvis was over my head. I spread my legs and let my pussy juice dribble into my mouth. Then I relaxed and let the pee build up in my bladder. I spread my pussy lips apart and let the piss flow directly into my mouth. I swallowed. How selfishly perverted I felt; I was pissing on myself!

I was so hot. I wanted to come, but I held off because Paul had told me that abstaining from orgasm as long as possible made the eventual ecstasy more pleasurable. I decided to wait until my next lesson with Paul, and that was five days away. Oh, God, I don’t know if I can hold it that long, I thought. But I did, and I felt glad that I had the determination to do so.

The day had finally come for my next lesson. I had built up such desire, that my every waking moment was consumed by thinking about nasty sex. I rushed home from school, ate my Mom’s dinner in a hurry; then I hurried to my bedroom to prepare myself. I put on my light blue panties and bra; white short-shorts and a dark blue tee-shirt. Sunset came at eight o’clock and I climbed out of my window and ran over to Paul’s house.

Paul greeted me with open arms and a kiss. He led me into his living room and I was shocked to see another girl! A woman, actually. It was the same woman I saw through the window getting screwed by Paul, several weeks back. Paul introduced her as Liz. At first I felt jealous, but when Paul explained the situation, I felt better. She was part of my lesson, I was told. And when Liz came over and gave me a smile and a hug, my jealousy vanished. She was a beautiful brunette, probably in her thirties. Liz sat close against to me on the couch and put her arm around my shoulder. We hit it off immediately. She told me how pretty I was and I could tell by the look in her eyes that she thought I was sexually desirable.

Paul handed us drinks while Liz spoke in a soft sweet tone explaining all the fun we would have. She was so close to me that every once and a while she would lean her body over to reach for something and I could feel her breasts through the blouse she wore; they touched my arm and I noticed how wonderfully soft they felt. Liz explained that she was a registered nurse in the county hospital and loved to play sex games with Paul and other women after work. She told me she was bi-sexual and sometimes wished she had a cock. So did I sometimes, I thought.

I noticed that the living room had been rearranged. The couch and coffee table were moved to the end, which left a large bare central area. There were several cushions and bean bags strewn around the room. Each wall had full length mirrors mounted from the floor up. Paul had put down a clear plastic sheet on the floor. I could only guess what that was for. Several area lights surrounded the room and made it bright. Mozart played on the stereo.

Paul explained that Liz and he would demonstrate the art of lewd love-making. I was told to watch and learn.

“I know you love scat and piss games, Amy. So do Liz and I. People who have such desires give example of the mark of sexiness and intelligence. The Marquis De Sade observed correctly when he said:

“If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure in the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be.”

I got hot just thinking about it. Liz smiled at me and took off her blouse. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She had medium sized breasts with large brown aureoles. Her aureoles looked bumpy, sort of like they had been chewed on or something, which made them even more desirable. Liz asked me if I had ever been with a woman before. I told her I hadn’t but that I loved to watch porn actresses on my brothers VCR. She smiled at that at came over to me and gave me a kiss.

“Would you like to feel them?” Liz asked, offering her breasts to me.

“Umm, yes, very much,” I responded embarrassingly. I cupped my hands on her breasts and felt the exquisite soft flesh.

“Kiss them, if you want,” Liz implored.

I licked around her aureoles and squeezed them with my fingers. I loved the feel of her nipples getting hard against my tongue. I remember wondering what it would be like to suck milk from them. I sucked her breast like a baby and wished I could drink from it.

I was beginning to feel a little playful. I took off my tee-shirt and lowerd my bra and let my breasts plop out. Liz gave a surprised look and squealed with delight. She kneeled down and kissed my breasts.

“Oh, you have a beautiful body, Amy. I know we’re going to have fun.”

Then Paul took off his clothes and asked Liz to join him in the middle of the floor. I remained to the side and watched.

Liz took off her remaining clothes and kneeled in front of Paul. She had a body similar to mine, I observed. Liz took Paul’s flaccid cock in her mouth and sucked on it. It began to grow. Liz took her hand and grabbed the base of his cock and jerked it slowly back and forth. I could see the saliva glistening on the shaft while Liz stretched the skin backwards. She let the cock plop out of her mouth and exposed Paul’s wonderful fat cock to my eyes. She stuck her tongue far out and put her tongue-tip into the pee-slit. Paul’s cock was throbbed at full size attention.

Liz laid back on the floor and lifted her legs wide open, exposing her cunt. Paul took grabbed each of her legs with both hands, spread them further apart, and put his cock head at the entrance of Liz’s pussy. Then he thrust his cock deep inside her. Liz let out a cry of pleasure. He thrust his engine back and forth and demonstrated the art of the missionary position. So *this* is how priests do it, I thought.

Paul screwed Liz in various positions, showing me all the possibilities of vaginal insertion. Liz got on her hand and knees while Paul fucked her from behind. I watched closely as Paul’s cock fucked her cunt while he spread her cheeks and fingered her asshole. I loved the way her cunt juices made his cock wet. Then he fucked Liz from the side while he crudely grabbed Liz’s breast and bit her neck like an animal.

I was so hot. I took off my shorts and panties and played with my breasts with one hand and put my other hand on my pussy. This was like watching a porn movie except this was real and right in front of me. Liz noticed my nakedness and smiled at me.

Then Paul showed me the art of pussy licking. Liz spread her legs apart and Paul got down and kissed around her pussy. Liz spread her pussy lips apart and Paul put his tongue inside. His mouth was smothered in Liz’s juices. Liz looked at me with sexy eyes as Paul tasted her juices. No doubt she could see my excited condition as I fucked myself with my hand.

“Would you like to come closer, Amy?” Liz asked in a dreamy sultry voice.

“Oh, yes, PLEASE,” I pleaded. I eagerly crawled over to her. Paul moved out of the way.

“Be my guest, Amy, if you wish,” Paul offered.

God, did I ever want to feel what a pussy tasted like, I thought. Liz had her legs spread wide for me and lovingly pleaded with her tongue sticking out, to lick her open cunt.

I kissed around her pussy as Paul had done and felt the smooth skin of her thighs. I could smell her heat. I moved my tongue closer to her wet cunt and couldn’t resist: I put my tongue in the flesh of her cunt and, for the first time, tasted a woman. The metallic electric flavor bit into my tongue like an orgasm. I could taste her lubrication juices along with the flavor of piss. It was like the texture of an oyster. I put my lips around her erect clit and sucked it. It looked like a miniature cock. I sucked it like a dick. Liz arched her back and let out a cry of pleasure. I glanced up and saw Paul put his red cock in Liz’s mouth. I could see Liz’s neck bulge out as the fat cock stretched her throat.

Paul pulled out suddenly, not wanting to come at this time. He grabbed Liz’s arms and pulled her away from me because he did not want Liz to come either. I remember feeling so disappointed at having my lover taken away from me. But everyone knew it was for the purpose of prolonging the pleasure so that we could continue our orgy through the night.

I crawled back in my corner and watched the next show. Liz got on her hands and knees in front of Paul. He stood waiting for his cock to become soft. I drank some more wine as if watching a porn movie.

I could tell what was coming next. All of us had been drinking a lot of liquid, and Paul wanted to relieve himself in Liz’s mouth. I put my hand on my pussy and waited. Liz opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. I could see Paul’s cock begin to sag. It was half erect when he began to drip piss. He took his penis in hand and aimed it at Liz’s mouth. The flow began to stream out. It was golden yellow and it filled Liz’s mouth. I moved over to get a closer look. I could see the yellow piss in her mouth. She swallowed it, and moved her mouth closer to his cock to take in more! God, I wanted to taste it too. I moved up close to Liz. She put her piss filled mouth to my lips and I drank the disgusting fluid from her open mouth. We kissed and put our tongues in each other’s mouth.

I knew then that I was bi-sexual, just like Liz. I loved Liz’s body as much as I did Paul’s. I wanted more.

I had drunk so much wine that I was beginning to feel like pissing. Paul noticed my legs moving back and forth. He must have realized my need and handed me a large empty wine carafe.

“Why don’t you pee in this,” Paul requested.

I thanked him and stood up. I spread my legs slightly and put the carafe against my pussy. I let the piss flow while Paul and Liz watched. I filled the bottle to the brim with my amber wine. I could smell my own piss vapors rise from the bottle and noted its strong odor. Liz took the carafe and put it to her nose and sniffed. The she looked at my eyes while she put it to her lips and took a long slow drink of my urine, swallowing it as if it were water. She let some of it spill on her breasts. She spread the piss over her body as if it were a magic fluid. She handed the bottle to Paul and he drank from it also. I wanted some too, so I took the bottle and put it to my lips. God, it was bitingly bitter. I could only take a small sip. I wondered how they could have swallowed so much of my disgusting piss without throwing up.

“Want to see something cool? ” Liz asked as she grabbed for a little black bag. She took out a slender rubber tube.

“This is a catheter that we nurses use for draining the bladder of patients. I’m going to insert it into myself. Watch closely.” Liz was giddy with excitement.

She laid back against a bean bag cushion and put her thighs against her stomach, separating them, exposing her cunt. Paul helped by spreading Liz’s pussy lips apart. Then Liz put the tip of the catheter into her pee-hole and inserted it slowly into her urethra. It must have gone into her belly about ten inches before she stopped. It looked strange with a rubber hose in her pussy.

“It should be all the way in now,” Liz announced, satisfyingly.

Paul showed me the other end of the catheter and I could see it dripping with piss. Then, like drinking from a straw, he put the tube end in his mouth and sucked. He drank it like a soda. Having his fill, Paul handed the tube to Liz. God, she was drinking her own piss and I could hear her gulping it down. I had to have some too. I took the tube in hand and put it to my lips and tasted Liz’s golden nectar. It was so hot and alive in my mouth. I swallowed and swallowed as I stroked my middle finger against my clit. Paul and I drank her bladder dry.

Then Liz showed me the cool part. She took a large syringe out of her nurse bag and inserted the tip of it into the carafe that contained my urine. She pulled the plunger back, filling the syringe with the golden fluid. Then she inserted the syringe tip into the end of the catheter and pushed the plunger slowly, causing my own piss to enter her bladder. She repeated this six times until her bladder was filled again. Then Liz stood up and spread her pussy lips wide. Paul got between her legs and opened his mouth. Liz began pissing and aimed her flow into Paul’s mouth. God, she was pissing *my* urine onto his face. Paul was jerking his cock all the while.

I was consumed with lust. I came over to have my taste. Liz stopped her flow for a moment while I positioned myself to her. I spread her lips apart and put my tongue on her pee-slit and waited. She squirted her piss, well, actually my piss, and I loved the feel of the urine forking against my tongue.

After my fill, I looked around and saw Paul watching the show. He was masturbating, but not in the normal way that most men do. He had inserted the end of the catheter into his pee-hole and was moving it in-and-out. His cock was fully erect and he was fucking his piss-hole with the tube as if it were a miniature dildo!

Liz came to Paul and removed his catheter toy.

“Amy, come here and spread Paul’s piss-hole for me,” Liz requested. I crawled over and put my fingers on Paul’s fat penis and spread his cockhead so that his hole laid wide open. Liz squatted down over Paul’s cock and put her now erect clit directly into the piss-hole and fucked it. Liz’s miniature penis was screwing Paul’s miniature pussy! I couldn’t help feeling amused, yet excited by this bizarre show.

We all took a break and Paul brought out some snacks and drinks. We talked about our dirtiest desires. I told Paul about how much I had thought about my last visit. I couldn’t get over how hot it looked when he ate my shit directly from my ass. I had wondered how it felt and tasted for him. I had always wondered what sex was like for a man, to have an erect cock, to have balls filled with cum and to shoot sperm. I wish I could be a man for a day, just to experience the perversion of a man.

Paul told me how he wished he could experience multiple orgasms like a woman and wondered how it felt being fucked by a hot piece of meat as it pumped back and forth. That’s why he stuck dildos up his ass, and fucked his pee-hole, he explained to me: so that he could feel like a woman getting screwed.

Liz also wondered what it was like for a man. She explained that she requested Paul to save up his sperm for her. She had him masturbating every night into a jar and saving it in the refrigerator. When enough cum is accumulated, she told me, she would heat it up to body temperature and put it in her syringe. Then, just as she did with my piss, she would pump Paul’s sperm into her bladder so that she could piss it out while she masturbated. Paul had explained that shooting piss was like coming except with an orgasm attached. And although one had some control when pissing, when a man cums, he has no control: the sperm just squirts out by itself. Liz wanted to squirt sperm through her urethra just like a man. I told Liz that I wanted to watch when she did it. Liz promised me an invitation.

I told Paul and Liz that I felt like taking a shit. I had not taken a crap for the last two days because I knew that this day would come. Now, I could not hold back much longer.

We resumed our sex orgy. Paul handed me a white plastic bowl and told me to shit in it. I put the bowl down in the middle of the floor and squatted over it, positioning my ass directly over the bowl. Paul pumped his cock while watching this and Liz rubbed my ass cheeks as she observed. I didn’t strain long, because I could feel my bowels empty a slithering load into the bowl. I felt like a dog. It came out like a coiled snake and it filled the bowl. I turned around to view my dark prize. Paul bent down his head to sniff my coiled turd. Then Liz put her face into the bowel and breathed the foul gift. I put my head over the dish and a horrid stench filled my nostrils. I bent down closer and took in the full aroma. My stomach almost wretched.

We were like three perverted animals, sniffing our own excrement. Liz put her hand in the disgusting shit and grabbed a handful and put it on Paul’s chest. She smeared it around his chest and neck.

I sat back and watched this while I fingered my clit. Then Paul took a handful of crap and wiped it on Liz’s breasts. With shit on her tits, he sucked them slowly. He seemed to be savoring the flavor. I could see his cock become erect. He looked over to me and saw me fingering my clit and ass.

“Would you like to feel what it’s like with a cock in your ass, Amy?” Paul inquired. God, I thought he’d never ask.

“Yes, Please, Paul,” I responded excitedly. I crawled over to him and turned around on my hands and knees, offering my ass to him like a cow in heat. While Liz spread my ass cheeks apart, Paul put his fat cockhead against my anus. It was already well lubricated from the shit in my ass, but Liz spat on it anyway.

“Oh, fuck me in the ass,” I cried. I wanted this so much, I remembered.

“Push like you’re taking a shit, Amy,” Paul ordered.

I pushed, and my anus opened up against his cock. I felt his cock pierce my bowels. God, I felt like my stomach would explode. It felt so good.

“Now shit my cock out,” Paul cried.

I was amazed at how much it felt like taking a crap, except that it was more filling and that it was a flesh cock turd that I was shitting out. I looked at the wall mirror and could see Paul ass-fucking me. I saw the cock sliding in and out. The shaft was covered with my shit. Liz put her tongue on the nasty rod and tasted it as it moved back and forth.

Liz began to get sexually turned on and moved to Paul’s ass and put her face between his cheeks. Paul bent over by back exposing his ass to Liz. I was holding the entire weight of Paul as he continued to fuck my shit filled ass. Liz yanked down on Paul’s balls and stuck her tongue in his asshole. She reamed it with crazed perverted enjoyment.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Liz spoke dreamily in her sexy voice as she tongued him.

I heard Paul grunting like a man taking a crap. His ass farted in Liz’s face. I looked in the mirror and saw her breath in the foul air. His ass let out another slurpy fart and a turd came into Liz’s mouth. She spit it out on the floor and put her mouth on his ass, again, for another turd. Paul shat in her mouth again, but this time, she held the disgusting brown roll in her mouth. Paul pulled out of my ass and turned around and put his cock in Liz’s mouth, forcing the turd there to cram deep into her mouth. I turned around to see the show.

Liz was on her hands and knees sucking Paul’s shit covered cock. Her mouth was black with crap. Paul fucked the turd in her mouth with slow strokes. She looked so strangely beautiful. I wondered what it was like, I thought.

I remembered de Sade’s words: “If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure in the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be.” I wanted it to get dirtier.

I went over to Liz and spread her kneeling thighs apart so I could get under her. I positioned my body so that my feet faced Paul and my head was under Liz’s ass. Liz allowed me there and even encouraged me by putting her shit filled mouth on my pussy. I felt her tonguing my slit. I responded by grabbed Liz’s thighs, lifting my head and licked her pussy. I lapped it like a dog in heat.

I was in a similar position that Paul was with me in the tub when I shat on him. I had wondered what it was like for him, and now, here was my chance to find out. I put my head back down on the floor and put my hands on Liz’s beautiful ass. I rubbed the tight muscles of her anus in a circle and remembered how tight it felt. Liz knew what I wanted and responded by extending her anus outward. I felt her anus opening and I put a finger inside.

“Shit on me,” I cried. I wanted it so much. I felt so filthy, like a toilet slut. I reamed her hole with my fingertip. She let out a loud fart and some brown goo blurted out. She looked at me and stuck her tongue out at me, naughty, as if telling me how nasty she was.

I wiped the shit from around her ass. I heard Liz groaning. Then I saw her anus open wider and a turd began to emerge. Oh, God, I wanted it. I watched, fire-eyed as Liz gave birth to a large black turd. It came out slowly an dropped on my neck and slide to the floor. The stench was immediate and filled my nostrils with a disgusting aroma. I picked up the turd and put it on my breasts. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I spread the shit over my tits and absorbed the odor. Then I put the rest of the turd on my pussy so that Liz could taste it while licking me. I wanted to taste it too.

I couldn’t help it. Like a force compelling me without my will, I pulled Liz’s ass down to my face. I stuck out my tongue and put it in her anus. I tasted the repellent scum and licked the goo from around her ass. I put my finger back in and reamed it wide open. I observed the dark red lining of her rectum. I put my other finger in and stretched her asshole wide with my two fingers. I put my tongue in between my fingers and licked the lining. I was in ecstasy.

“Shit for me again,” I whimpered.

Liz’s piss began to flow as she forced her bowels against my mouth. I could feel the tip of the next turd emerging. I became brave. I put my entire mouth over her anus and inhaled, inward, trying to suck the turd out of her ass. I was rewarded with a fat brown turd. It entered my mouth and slid down my throat as if it were a continuation of her rectum. It was too much. I choked and coughed it out. I bit off the turd from Liz’s ass and spit it out. The rest of the turd remained amputated in her ass. I lay my head back down and let her shit the rest of it out. The turd came out and fell on my face, smothering my nose and mouth. It was long and snakelike, coiling around my face like dog shit. Liz continued to piss on my belly. The stench of piss and shit filled the room. It was so disgusting, but I loved every orgasmic second.

Paul got excited at the pile of shit on my face. With both hands, he lifted my ass and put his cock in my shit filled cunt. He fucked me, stretching my young pussy apart. I could feel the shit being pushed against my cervix. The pain added to the pleasure.

In the meantime, Liz took a handful of the dog shit from my face and molded it around Paul’s cock as he fucked me. I vomited out the putrid crap from my mouth and screamed with orgasm.

“Oh, shit and piss!” I screamed. The floor was covered with pieces of our excrement and pee. I could feel I was laying in a pool of urine. Liz opened her pussy to my mouth and pissed in it, offering me mouthwash to clean my pallet. I let her wonderful golden piss fill my mouth.

Paul was ready to cum. He backed out of my cunt and put his cockhead to my pissed filled mouth. His fat cock was covered with shit. He grabbed the shaft at the base and jerked it back and forth. He inserted his cock in my mouth. The piss in my mouth overflowed out. Paul screamed out, “FUCK”, and I felt him piss his sperm in my mouth. He came in ten powerful squirts; the sperm mixing with the piss and shit. Liz was sucking my clit at this time and then I came. God, how I came. It was like electric current pulsing through my body.

Paul smiled proudly at me as he told me that I had graduated.

He drove to the hospital in which she was being treated, and demanded to see her. The staff were reluctant, but finally he was taken to her doctor, who was only too happy to see Michael.

“This,” said Dr Singh quietly, “is one of the most extraordinary things I have ever seen. You had better sit down.”

“It’s okay,” said Michael grimly, “I am prepared for an extraordinary story. Just tell me what happened.”

“Well, she was brought in here yesterday by police who found her lying in a sewer. You may have read about the…”

“I saw the article.”

“Quite. Well, what the article did not say was that she appeared to be heavily pregnant at the time. Yet when she began to deliver…” Here the doctor paused and wiped his brow unhappily.

“Go on,” prompted Michael.

“She … gave birth to some kind of creature that was made entirely of … well, of excrement!”

“Yikes!” Michael was shocked. “Poor Alison!”

“That’s only the beginning. Within a few minutes she had given birth to thirteen other creatures, all identical to the first. In shape they resembled human babies, but they were able to run around on two legs almost from the second they emerged.”

Michael sank into a chair. “Good Lord, this is worse than I thought. What did you do with these creatures?”

“Oh we decapitated them with the biggest knife we could find,” said Dr Singh cheerfully. “That stopped them moving well enough. Then we chopped them up and flushed them. Oh, except one, which we’ve kept for detailed examination.”

“So, is Alison okay now?” asked Michael.

The doctor shook his head. “A few minutes after the last ‘birth’,” he said, “she defecated, and her stool was similarly imbued with a life of its own. We chopped it up and flushed it, but I’m not convinced we killed it - the pieces were all still wriggling when they disappeared down the pan.” He sighed. “A little over an hour later, she defecated again, and the same thing happened. And an hour after that, and an hour after that. Fortunately she’s quite regular - we know when we need to get back in there and capture her expulsions.” He looked at his watch. “She’s due to defecate again in about thirty-five minutes. Heaven knows where it’s all coming from, and I’ve no idea how we are to stop it.”

“I might be able to help there,” said Michael. “I just need to talk to her alone for a few minutes.”

“You mean you know what’s causing all this?” asked the doctor.

“I might,” replied Michael guardedly.

“I hope so, because then perhaps you might be able to explain another mystery for me… Anyway, please come this way. In view of her … unusual condition, we’ve kept her isolated in one of the private rooms. I think she’s awake, but she’s a little weak. She was quite dehydrated when she came in here, and completely exhausted. Here we are - I’ll leave the two of you alone. Come and see me afterwards, if you please.”

“Thanks - I will.” Michael entered the room and closed the door behind him. Alison was awake, and propped up on pillows. She looked pale and tired, but she smiled when she saw her brother.

“Hi,” she said faintly. “I’m glad you’re here. You’ve got to cancel the spell…”

“I know,” he said. “But which spell was it? How on Earth did you get yourself into this mess?”

Alison’s lip trembled, then she began to cry. “I don’t know what went wrong!” she sobbed. “I cast a few spells, but they all seemed to backfire…”

“Hush,” Michael soothed her. “Just start from the beginning.”

Alison closed her eyes and thought hard. “The first one was to cure my … um, constipation.”

Michael blinked in surprise. “Geez, Alison! They’ve got pills for that, you know!”

“I know! Look do you want to tell me off or hear my story?”

“Okay, I’m sorry - go on.”

“Then I cast a spell on my watch to make it keep time properly and wind itself up…”

Michael’s brow furrowed. “How did you do that?” he inquired.

“There’s a spell for giving inanimate objects the ability to move by themselves,” Alison explained.

“Inanimate objects,” Michael repeated, looking puzzled. “That doesn’t make sense - the spell book only deals with the human body…” Then he gasped. “Did it say ‘non-living objects’?”

“That rings a bell. Yeah, probably.”

Michael slapped his forehead. “It’s referring to reanimating the dead, I think. So, well, nothing should have happened, right?”

“But it did! For some reason the spell was cast on my poo!”

“But that’s impossible! I don’t get it!” Michael paced back and forth in thought. Then he stopped. “Just how did you cast the spell, exactly…?”

“The same way I cast the first one. I stood in the circle and focused on my watch…”

“You what?” Michael stared at her. “Why on Earth did you stand in the circle??”

“But I thought…”

“You idiot!” exclaimed Michael. “Any spell that you cast acts upon whatever’s inside the circle! You aren’t supposed to ‘focus’ on the person, or thing, that you’re casting the spell on - you’re supposed to place it on the floor inside the circle! No wonder this has all happened! The only non-living material inside the circle would have been your poo, and probably your urine as well - have you had bladder problems too?”

Alison was looking sick. “Oh my God,” she murmured to herself. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know!” She sighed. “No, I haven’t been having bladder problems.”

“Hmm, that’s a relief. Maybe you can’t animate bodily fluids. So what other spells did you cast?”

“Um, a spell to make Vince Lambert attracted to me.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Which was cast, no doubt, on your poo, which by that time had achieved a certain degree of sentience. What a mess! Anything else?”

“Oh, I cast a spell to make my money replicate itself…”

“Hence the rapid production of your poo,” said Michael, nodding. “Okay, we need to get you home so we can work on cancelling these spells. But, um, you haven’t explained how you came to be in the sewer?”

Alison shuddered and closed her eyes. “I can’t talk about that right now,” she whispered. “It’s just too horrible.”

“All right. You just rest there for a while, and I’ll go and see your doctor.”

He left the room and found Dr Singh.

“Any luck in ascertaining the cause of this problem?” inquired the doctor.

“Kind of. I need to get her home so that I can stop the, um, the production of her poo.”

“But how can you do that? What is causing it?”

“I can’t explain,” said Michael. “Let’s just say that Alison was meddling in things that she didn’t know a heck of a lot about, and only I can fix the problems she’s caused. So I just need to take her home…”

“Do you know a girl named Rebecca Booth, by any chance?”

Michael frowned. “Booth … I don’t know - there’s a family of that name who live just down the road from me - I don’t know their first names though.”

“This would be a young girl of about your sister’s age, maybe a bit younger…”

“Oh, that could be the daughter - she goes to the same school as Alison I think.”

“Ah, yes - this begins to make sense. A few days ago she came in here with an extremely unusual problem - she kept defecating continuously, a never-ending flow that only stopped when we began to operate on her. She appeared to have had some kind of surgery, though none that was familiar to me. Some of her internal organs had been replaced with an artificial system… Did you have anything to do with that…?”

Michael shook his head. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “Honestly.”

Dr Singh narrowed his eyes. “I hope you’re right,” he said. “That poor girl has been through a lot, and I would not like to think…”

“I swear to you!” insisted Michael. “I couldn’t even begin to explain the surgery … I’ve never heard of such a thing. I might, however, be able to do something to fix the continuous defecation - maybe I could go and see her sometime.”

The doctor nodded, unconvinced. Then he looked at his watch. “Ah, it’s nearly time for us to get ready to catch your sister’s latest production.”

“Can you discharge her after that?” asked Michael.

“Certainly not!” replied Dr Singh. “We need to keep a close eye on her here.”

“I can look after her at home,” said Michael, “and I need her there in order to fix her problem.” He knew this was not strictly true, but he did not want the inquisitive doctor to find out anything else from Alison.

Dr Singh was not pleased, but he relented. “Very well,” he said. “But you must promise to bring her back if her condition gets any worse.”

“I will,” said Michael.

An hour later they were back at Michael’s house, only to discover it had been turned into a crime scene. A police car was outside, and there was yellow tape across the front gate. Michael stepped over it and hurried inside, leaving Alison to make her own way. Dressed in her own clothes that the police had brought to the hospital, she felt a little more normal, though when she stood up she suddenly felt very faint. She staggered around the car and mounted the pavement, following her brother.

Michael was by now inside. He found a policeman and a policewoman in deep discussion in the living room. They turned in surprise as he entered.

“Hey, you can’t come in here!” exclaimed the policeman.

“I live here!” retorted Michael. “And … what the fuck?” He stared around at the room, which had been transformed beyond all recognition. The carpet was missing. The pictures had all been taken down and the wallpaper was visibly damp and stained in places. The furniture was piled up against one wall, and its upholstery was missing.”

“Ah, Michael Dawkins?”

“Yes, that’s me,” confirmed Michael absently as he stared around him.

“Good evening sir. I’m PC Barnett and this is my colleague, DC Evans. I’m afraid we have some unfortunate news about your sister, Alison.”

“I know it already,” said Michael. “I’ve brought her home.”

“Oh?” Barnett frowned. “The hospital discharged her already?”

“Yes, she’s fine. Just needs some rest. Now could you tell me what happened to this room?”

“We don’t know, exactly,” admitted the policeman. “But it was a terrible mess yesterday, I can tell you. Covered in shit. The whole house was, actually. We cleaned it as part of our investigation - none of our detectives were prepared to work in here otherwise - but I’m afraid you’ll have to replace a lot of your stuff.”

Michael threw up his hands in despair. “This is a nightmare! Covered in shit, you say?” He frowned, trying to figure out how this could have happened, even given that Alison had been giving birth to creatures made out of poo.

“It’s a mystery to us too, sir,” said the policewoman, speaking for the first time. “When we were alerted by one of your neighbours, we got here as soon as we could, but we found the front door wide open and a trail of excrement leading out of the house and round to the back. The inside of the house was a mess, but it was empty, so we followed the trail and it led us to an open manhole leading down into the sewers. We sent in a team and they discovered your sister after a couple of hours’ searching. But there was no indication of where all the excrement came from.”

“Anyway sir,” said Barnett, “since you’re back here, we might as well be off. Please give us a call on this number” - he handed Michael a card -”if you find anything that might prove helpful to the investigation. In any case, we’ll be in touch again soon. Good evening, Miss. Are you all right?”

Michael turned and saw Alison swaying in the doorway. “She’s fine,” he said quickly. “Just exhausted. I’ll put her to bed right away.”

“Ah, well I hope you have clean sheets somewhere,” said the policeman, “because we had to strip the bed - it was in a disgusting condition.”

“We’ll manage,” said Michael. “Thanks for everything.”

“That’s all right sir. Good day.” He and the policewoman left, and Michael closed the front door.

“Come on,” he said to Alison, “let’s get you upstairs.” He led her up the uncarpeted staircase and into the bedroom. It was in a terrible state, but the mattress, fortunately, was still on the bed. It was still a little damp from recent washing, so he fetched a plastic undersheet from the spare bedroom and laid it on top. Then he sat Alison on the side of the bed and pulled a fresh sheet out of a drawer. Spreading it out and tucking it in as quickly as he could, he then went in search of a clean duvet. He found no spares, so he took the duvet from his own bed and hurried back through to Alison’s room. “Here you go,” he said. “Why don’t you lie down and take it easy, and I’ll go and have a look through that spell book.”

“Okay…” murmured Alison, then promptly fainted.

Michael caught her as she fell forward, then laid her gently back down on the bed. It was then that he remembered the doctor’s words about her hourly defecations. Alarmed, he looked at his watch. It had been almost an hour since they had left the hospital - time was running out. He pulled Alison’s shoes off and then feverishly worked to remove her jeans, unzipping them and pulling them off by degrees (they were rather tight). Then he hesitated, uncomfortable about pulling off her panties.

“Hey wake up, Alison,” he said, but she remained insensible.

Biting his lip, he rolled her over on to her front, in order to avoid seeing her pussy as he took her panties off. But then he started in surprise - the back of Alison’s panties had just begun to bulge, as if pushed outwards from within. Quickly he leaned forward, then took hold of her waistband and pulled it away from her bottom, peering inside to see what was going on.

A thick, brown, soft poo was emerging quickly from between his sister’s buttocks. As it reached six inches in length it began to curl around, forming a growing pile which nestled between Alison’s panties on one side and her bottom on the other. Michael was repelled yet fascinated. Then he shook himself. What was it the doctor had done with the others? Ah yes - he had broken them up and flushed them down the toilet.

But just as Michael was debating how he should pick up the poo without getting himself messy, the object began to move. With astonishing speed, its rounded tip slithered downwards and the rest of it, like the body of a slug, followed after. Michael gasped in amazement and stared as the poo quickly disappeared from view. When only a couple of inches were left visible, Michael swiftly pulled Alison’s buttocks apart to see where the poo was going. As he saw the last little bit vanish into his sister’s cunt, his heart sank. He would have to get it out.

He pulled Alison’s panties off and rolled her on to her back. Gritting his teeth, he lifted her knees up and pushed them wide apart, thus giving himself easy access to her vagina. Trying not to look at her pussy, he gently inserted one finger into her cunt, then pushed it deep, looking for the runaway poo. Perplexed, he inserted another finger and pushed deeper, but to no avail - he could find no trace of the poo.

He withdrew his fingers. What was he to do now? The object was now ensconced deep inside his sister’s body, and was no doubt growing and turning into a baby-like creature. This was not good. Hurriedly, he pulled Alison’s panties up her legs and fitted them back into place. Then he covered her with the duvet and drummed his fingers on the edge of the mattress, contemplating his options. How long did he have before she gave birth? Could he find a spell that would stop the poo’s growth and/or flush it out of her body?

“Michael?”

Alison’s voice startled Michael out of his reverie. “Yes?”

“I’m thirsty - could you get me some water please?” Her voice sounded weary and her speech slurred slightly.

“Sure. And then you must get some sleep.” Michael got to his feet and fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. He took it to his sister and then went out on to the landing to pull the loft ladder down. Climbing up into the loft space, he searched for his spell book but could find it nowhere. Cursing, he realised that Alison must have left it somewhere in the house. And then an awful thought struck him: what if the police had found it, and had impounded it as evidence? A cold sweat broke out on his brow as he contemplated the possible consequences of this.

He descended to the landing, and went into the study. This room was reasonably clean, thankfully. He switched his computer on, then noticed with delight that the spell book was sitting next to the keyboard. Sitting down to wait while his PC booted up, he flipped through the book, looking for useful spells. There was such a thing as a nullification spell, but it only stopped a spell-in-progress. It would not reverse the effects of a completed spell.

His eyes lit upon a spell for rendering a living creature motionless, but after considering this for a minute he discounted the idea - it might stop Alison’s heart, or any one of a thousand similarly awful things. Further reading unearthed a spell to induce the birth of a child, and he almost leaped to his feet and yelled ‘Eureka!’, until he spotted a footnote saying that on no account should this spell be cast on any woman who was less than two weeks pregnant, as massive internal bleeding was likely to result.

He continued through the book, reading and re-reading chapters he thought most likely to contain useful spells, until he was interrupted by a cry from upstairs. He leaped to his feet and dashed up the stairs. How long had he been reading the spell book? Forty minutes? An hour? Was the gestation period so short?

Alison had thrown off the duvet and was staring in horror at her distended abdomen. “You bastard!” she yelled. “How could you let this happen to me?”

“I’m sorry!” Michael cried. “It took me by surprise. I’ve been reading the spell book and…”

“Ow … oowwwww! It’s coming! Get a knife for God’s sake!”

Michael ran downstairs to the kitchen while Alison struggled to get her panties off. By the time Michael returned, the poo-baby was already emerging. With an audible ‘pop’, it slithered out of Alison’s vagina and on to the bed. Michael stared at it in fascinated horror.

“Don’t just stand there - kill it!” screamed Alison at him. Visions of the creature escaping and growing seven feet tall flashed through her mind and her heart raced in panic. “Kill it!”

Michael grabbed the baby’s head and slashed with his knife. It cut through an inch of poo-flesh, then met resistance. Sawing back and forth, he carved through the obstacle and, a second later, the head fell off entirely. “Yes!” he cried exultantly. “Got you, you bastard!”

“Never mind that - just get rid of it!” ordered Alison anxiously, though she was quite relieved to see the creature beheaded.

Michael nodded and carried both head and body through to the bathroom, where he hacked them up and flushed the bits in three batches. Then, while he was washing his hands, a thought occurred to him and he returned to Alison’s bedroom.

“You’re probably due to poo again pretty soon,” he said. “I think you should go and sit on the toilet. Then, when it comes out, it will fall into the water and you can flush straight away.”

“Good idea.” Alison got out of bed and hobbled through to the bathroom. “Did you find anything useful in the spell book?”

“Not yet,” admitted Michael. “But I’m still looking.”

“Well I hope you find something pretty quick,” said Alison, “because it really sucks to have to shit every hour. And it’s not even as if I ever get any warning - it just shoots out of me.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” agreed Michael.

“What?”

“Uhh … oh, nothing, I meant I had figured as much, since you obviously didn’t have time to get to the bathroom.”

She stared at him suspiciously, but decided to let it lie and carried on into the bathroom. She shut the door behind her, then on a sudden impulse locked it. Had Michael watched her defecate while she was insensible? If so, why had he not stopped the poo entering her? It was a little alarming.

She pulled down her panties and sat down on the toilet. Her poo did not feel ready to come out just yet, but it would probably not be long. So she waited. And waited. And then she screamed as she felt herself grasped around the waist and pulled downwards hard. Her bottom fell into the bowl and the edge of the toilet seat scraped up her backbone. Looking down, she saw with horror that a long tentacle, made apparently out of poo, had encircled her waist and seemed to be attempting to pull her bottom-first down the U-bend. This was not about to happen, obviously, but although she struggled mightily, she was unable to pull herself out.

“What’s up? What’s wrong?” asked Michael from the other side of the bathroom door.

“A … bloody tentacle’s got hold of me!” shouted Alison. “I can’t reach the lock - you’ll have to break the door down. Ouch!”

The last exclamation was on account of the sudden insertion of a thick, pole-like object into her vagina. She could not see what it was, but she felt sick as it began to thrust itself in and out of her cunt.

With a loud THUMP, the door burst open and Michael entered. He looked startled as he saw Alison’s predicament, but he quickly grabbed her by both hands and began to pull.

“Not like that, you idiot!” she yelled at him. “Do you want to pull my arms off? Get the knife and cut the tentacle!”

“Oh.” Michael nodded and disappeared.

“HURRY!” she screamed after him as the object thrusting inside her cunt began to pound into her faster.

Michael returned with the knife and, kneeling down next to Alison, he started sawing at the tentacle. Alison planted her hands on the seat either side of her and pushed hard, ready to pop out of the bowl like a champagne cork when the tentacle was finally cut through.

And then the job was done. The tentacle fell limp and Alison hauled herself out of the toilet bowl, falling forward face-down on the floor. Yet the object in her cunt stayed inside her, and as she looked back she saw it was another tentacle, which stretched all the way from her vagina to the bowl and on round the U-bend and who knew how much further beyond? At that moment she felt her insides being flooded with warm liquid which, as it seeped out of her cunt around the tentacle, turned out to be diarrhoea. She yanked the tentacle out of her vagina, noticing with disgust that its dribbling tip was bulbous and penis-like. It withdrew quickly, snaking back into the toilet and vanishing out of sight.

“Whew, thank goodness that’s over!” exclaimed Michael.

“It’s not over you idiot,” muttered Alison. “I’m fucking pregnant again, aren’t I?

“You are?” Michael was puzzled. “But…”

“Trust me on this,” said Alison. “In an hour my belly will be as big as a bus, and you’d better be ready with that knife ’cause there will be plenty of babies to deal with this time.”

“Oh great!” Michael threw up his hands in despair. “How the fuck did this happen? Where the hell did those tentacles come from? Was it the baby we flushed? I thought once I chopped it up, that would be it!”

“It wasn’t the baby,” sighed Alison. “I think it was probably the adults down in the sewers.”

“What? What adults? What??” Michael was bewildered.

So Alison related the entire horrible story of what had happened to her, how she had been held captive by an ever-increasing horde of seven-foot-tall poo monsters who had repeatedly raped her and impregnated her, how she had spent most of her ordeal actually giving birth to the foul creatures, and how they had pursued her to the sewers, where they had held her captive in a pitch-black nightmare for half a day before the sounds of approaching policemen and the flashing of many torches had caused her captors to panic and flee.

“There are at least a hundred down there now,” she said. “Of course I couldn’t tell the police about them - they’d have thought I was mad.”

“Good grief Ali,” said Michael, banging his head softly against the wall. “You really screwed up with that spell book, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Alison waved her hand dismissively. “What matters now is that you find a cure for me within the next hour.”

“I’ll try,” said Michael, sighing heavily. His hopes were not high. “In the meantime, you’d better squat over the bath or something, unless you’ve shit already. Give me a shout when you’ve done something and I’ll come and give you a hand with it.”

Alison nodded. “Okay,” she said and once Michael had left the room she pulled down her panties and sat on the edge of the bath, with her anus overhanging the side by a couple of inches. Anything that suddenly came out of her now would fall into the bottom of the bath and would not easily be able to find her cunt.

Soon enough, it happened. A long, softish poo slithered out of her anus and dropped into the bath, and Alison quickly got to her feet and pulled up her panties. She considered calling Michael, but decided she could probably deal with this herself. She looked down into the bath, where a sixteen-inch-long turd was writhing and wriggling its way along the floor of the tub. It locomoted clumsily at first, then it abruptly changed its tactics and began to stretch out its front end, almost doubling its length, before bringing up its rear in a contractile motion. In short, it was moving rather like an earthworm. Screwing up her face in distaste, Alison reached down and picked it up. It writhed frantically in her grip as she carried it to the toilet, but failed to escape before she dropped it into the centre of the bowl. With her other hand she flushed, and water deluged the hapless poo.

But it was not going down without a fight. Bracing itself against the ceramic sides of the bowl, the tenacious turd valiantly maintained both its integrity and its position despite the torrential onslaught. Only when it sustained a violent blow from a loo brush wielded determinedly by Alison did it finally succumb and begin its journey down into the sewers.

Alison washed her hands thoroughly and returned to bed, hoping that her brother would find some way of stopping her pregnancy before she was due to give birth. Despite her worries, her weariness was great, and she fell into a deep sleep fairly quickly.

An hour later, she woke up with her first contraction. Her heart sank as she felt her belly - it was enormous. To describe it as a ‘beach ball’ did not do it justice. “Michael!” she yelled.

He came bounding up the stairs. “Sorry,” he said, “I think I’ve found a spell worth trying but I was just figuring out if … oh my God!” He stopped in his tracks and stared at her mountainous bulge.

“Get the knife! Hurry - I’m distending already.”

“Let’s get you through to the bathroom - it’ll be better if you can give birth into the bath.”

“Yeah sure, except I can’t bloody move like this,” retorted Alison.

“Sure you can. I’ll help you.” Michael walked over to her and tried to help her up.

“Oww, no stop it! The first one’s coming out, I can feel it. Get my knickers off, could you?”

This was an invitation Michael would never in a million years have expected from his sister, but he obliged nonetheless. Alison spread her legs apart and began to push, as a vile brown head began to emerge from her over-stretched vagina.

Michael picked up the knife, which was lying on the bedside table, and immediately hacked at the revolting infant. It attempted to defend itself, but soon Michael had decapitated it. By this time another baby was well on its way, and Michael despatched it in similar fashion. The third, however, proved more difficult. For some reason, this one was equipped not only with limbs but with tentacles which protruded from the baby’s chest. These tentacles proved surprisingly strong, and Michael struggled with the infant for two or three minutes while it tried to wrestle the knife out of his hand. By the time he had successfully beheaded it, the next baby had been born and was in the process of running out of the room.

“Oh no you don’t!” cried Michael, and he leaped after it. The little creature was agile, though, and when Michael reached the top of the stairs the baby was already halfway down. Here Michael hesitated. He did not dare let the creature go, for fear it should hide out somewhere and turn into a seven-foot adult. On the other hand, the more time he spent on this one, the more babies would be emerging from his sister’s womb.

He who hesitates is lost, he told himself, and dashed downstairs after the poo-baby. It disappeared into the living room and Michael followed it in, closing the door behind him. He glimpsed the runaway scampering behind the sofa, which annoyed him because the sofa had a couple of upside-down armchairs sitting on top of it. He pulled the armchairs off as quickly as he could (they were a fair weight) and pulled the sofa away from the wall, revealing the hiding baby.

Lunging forward, Michael grabbed at the creature but it darted out of his way. It then proceeded to lead him a merry dance around the furniture until Michael began to grow very concerned at the thought of how many more babies would be waiting for him upstairs. Should he cut his losses and abandon the chase? Possibly. But then, all he needed was to close his hand around the little bastard’s arm…

Finally he got hold of it and deftly lopped its head off. Then he ran to the door and flung it open, running through into the hall and charging up the stairs three at a time. When he entered Alison’s bedroom, he was astonished to see that she had been stripped naked, and her wrists and ankles were tied to the four corners of the bed. Two poo-babies were lying across her chest, each suckling on a nipple, while a third was in the process of being born.

“Get them off me, Mike!” wailed Alison.

Michael hurried in, and the two babies quickly climbed off Alison and jumped down on the other side of the bed. Michael tackled the newly emerging baby first, only to find that it, too, was in the possession of tentacles that it already knew how to use. During the brief struggle that followed, the two other babies escaped out of the door.

“Cut me loose!” exclaimed Alison.

“I’ll be right back,” said Michael. “I just have to get those two before they hole up somewhere I can’t get to them.”

“Just face it, you’re fighting a losing battle here,” Alison told him. “Just try to hold them off until I’ve finished giving birth, and then let’s get out of this house!”

“Oh Ali, that’s a bit drastic. Just wait there - I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

The two escapees were well ahead of Michael, but fortunately had left brown footprints that he was able to follow without difficulty. He was perplexed, however, when they led into the living room, despite the fact that the living room door was closed. He turned the handle and pushed, then frowned as the door failed to budge. He leaned his shoulder into it and heaved, and it gave a little, then stuck fast. Shoving even harder, he managed to shift it a bit more. The little bastards had obviously barricaded the door with some of the furniture in there. Their strength surprised him greatly.

However, their barricade was not enough to keep him out. After a few more hard shoves, Michael had finally got the door wide enough open for him to get inside. He squeezed past the armchair that had been braced against the door, and spotted one of the brats immediately. It was standing by the open door of the video cabinet, and it held a videotape in each hand. As he approached, the little creature hurled first one, then the other at him. He avoided the first, but the other struck him in the hip.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, annoyed, and he ran to grab hold of the infant. It hurled another tape at him and then began backing away slowly, stopping when it reached the wall.

Then Michael felt a sharp crack on the back of his head, and he whirled around in dizzy surprise. The other infant was there, on the far side of the room, holding a stack of place-mats in its hand. It had just hurled one of these, Frisbee-like, at Michael’s head, and it was preparing to repeat the performance. Michael prepared to duck as he advanced towards the creature, and then he howled with pain and anger as the corner of a videotape struck him, again in the back of the head. As he clutched at his head with his left hand, he began to be bombarded with missiles hurled with surprising accuracy. His knife was knocked out of his hand and as he went to retrieve it, the corner of a videotape hit the edge of his eye. Sparks flew in his vision, and he slapped a hand to his face as he stumbled towards the door.

He managed to get out into the hall without further injury, and he closed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to come to a quick decision. The horrible little poo creatures were tougher than he had expected. Maybe he could use something as a shield… Then an idea came to him - the lid of his laundry basket would be perfect. He ran back upstairs and into the spare bedroom, where he grabbed the basket lid. As he ran back to the staircase, he glanced into his sister’s room, where another poo baby was noisily sucking on Alison’s nipples. Yet another was in the process of coming out.

He hesitated a moment, then decided he could probably quickly despatch at least one of these. He entered the room and made a grab for the emerging baby. The one sucking on Alison’s breast jumped back and then ran past him, out of the room. Only then did Michael realise that he had no knife with him. No matter - he would just take this creature downstairs with him and behead it in the kitchen.

“Quick, untie me now!” exclaimed Alison, struggling against her bonds.

“I don’t have time right now,” said Michael. “I’ll return in a couple of minutes with a knife - then I’ll free you.” He dashed from the room, but failed to notice a pile of poo at the top of the stairs until it was too late.

“Bugger!” he cried as his legs shot out from under him and he went flying.

“Ouch!” he complained as his head hit the top stair and bounced.

“Fuck!” he yelled as he tumbled end over end down the staircase.

He did not say anything when he landed at the bottom. He was unconscious.

“Michael?” called out Alison, concerned.

But Michael did not respond. And still Alison continued to give birth, and her progeny grew larger and larger. Half an hour later, the two poo monsters in the living room removed the barricade and ascended the stairs. They were both nearly five feet tall now, and were most anxious to meet their mother.

Alison had just given birth to the fourteenth and last in the brood, and was utterly exhausted. She felt a new poo slither out of her anus and quickly dive back into her cunt, and she shuddered in disgust. Then her two eldest ’sons’ entered the room, and one of them climbed on top of her, its huge erect penis aiming directly for her vaginal orifice. Alison winced as it slid deep inside her, and closed her eyes as it began to thrust. She knew full well that this invasion was not just a vile rape; it was also a sentence of further torment - when the monster spurted its fertilising diarrhea inside her, she would become pregnant with a dozen or so new embryonic poo creatures. What on Earth had happened to Michael?

The horrible creatures were climbing all over her. A baby’s mouth was fastened to each of her nipples, and as one of the larger ones fucked her, the other was sliding its arm into her anus. She winced with pain, but it pushed its arm deeper and deeper until it was buried up to the shoulder. Just then the monster fucking her climaxed and flooded her vagina and womb with diarrhoea, which poured out when it withdrew its softening cock. The other monster now pulled its arm out of her anus and climbed on top of her to take its turn.

And so it continued. As each monster grew big enough, it screwed Alison while the rest of them caressed her body and played with her breasts and her anus and even her mouth. Some of them licked her face, and kissed her, pushing their poo-tongues into her mouth and down her throat. She threw up more than once, and her children delightedly smeared her vomit all over her breasts and torso. And all the while her belly grew bigger, and still Michael was nowhere to be seen.

Until, that is, he reappeared wielding a pair of garden shears. With a great SNAP, he chopped off the head of the monster that was screwing her at the time. By now most of the monsters were adult, and at seven feet tall were both bigger and stronger than he was. But despite their strength, the creatures were neither as bony nor as gristly as a human, and the shears made short work of both limbs and necks.

Michael advanced like the Angel of Death, scissoring the shears with devastating precision as the monsters fled in terror before it. He beheaded three before the rest made up their tiny minds to keep well out of his way. Soon his route to the bed was cleared. He deftly cut through the ropes binding his sister, and she climbed with some effort off the bed.

“Thank God,” she muttered wearily. “Where the heck have you been?”

“I was knocked out,” he replied shortly. “When I came to, I went out to the shed and found these. I figured they would work a treat.”

“What’s the plan?” asked Alison.

“We get in the car and drive to the hospital as quickly as we can.”

“Okay.” Alison grabbed her bathrobe and flung it on as she descended the stairs. The front door was wide open and she headed straight for it. Just as she reached it, however, she screamed as a seven-foot poo monster charged out of the kitchen towards her with its arms outstretched. She tried to run, but it grabbed the back of her robe and brought her up short. Thinking quickly, she slipped out of the robe and continued running, naked and poo-smeared, towards the car. Michael had left the passenger door unlocked and so she climbed in and locked the door. The frustrated monster began to pound on her window, but before it had a chance to break it, Michael had appeared with his shears. A great ugly brown head dropped to the ground, and the body of the beast crashed down after it.

Michael got into the car and started the engine, even as the monsters surrounded the car. He accelerated and knocked one of the creatures down, running over it and then turning sharply to head down the road. The monsters tried to run after the car, but it was useless - Michael and Alison had escaped.

Ten minutes later they were on the motorway, heading for the hospital through the semi-darkness of the August late evening. Alison had been obliged to push her seat back and recline it as much as possible - her belly had reached enormous proportions.

“Geez, you look like you’re about to explode,” observed Michael, looking down at her in concern.

“Oh shit Michael - the first one’s coming…” Alison lifted up her knees and spread her legs wide.

“Well I’m not stopping now,” said Michael. “Try to hold it in for a bit longer.”

“You idiot, I can’t!” Alison began puffing. “Here it comes!”

A head appeared and, a few seconds later, a new baby had dropped on to the floor. It kicked its legs and waved its arms aimlessly for a few seconds, then it rolled over on to its front and got to its feet. Alison could not see it - her enormous belly was in the way, but she screwed up her face in disgust when it began to lick her clitoris.

“Can’t you do something about that?” she complained to Michael.

“Not while I’m driving. Can you open your window and try to throw it out?”

“I would if I could reach it,” she replied.

“Okay, I’ll try,” said Michael. He opened his window, then reached down and grabbed the infant. It wriggled in his grasp, but it was, as yet, too weak to cause him much trouble. He hurled it out of the window, then cursed as he realised it had grabbed hold of the top of the glass with one hand and was now hanging on for dear life as the wind buffeted it about.

“Hasta la vista, baby,” he muttered as he wound the window back up. As the gap closed on the baby’s fingers, there was a nasty squishing sound. But the creature did not fall. It was now holding on to the wing mirror with its other hand. With surprising agility, it swung itself up on to the bonnet and threw itself against the windscreen. Michael swerved about in an attempt to dislodge it, but this merely resulted in the creature sliding about and smearing poo all over the glass.

“Fuck!” exclaimed Michael, slamming on the brakes. He could not see a thing, and since he had been swerving so much he was now not sure in which direction the car was pointed. This soon became clear, as the car crossed the hard shoulder, bounced up on to the kerb and smashed into the crash barrier. ‘Not again!’ was Michael’s last thought before he hit his head on the steering wheel and blacked out.

Alison, for her part, shot forward on impact, the backs of her thighs slamming into the dashboard and her bottom hitting the glove compartment before falling down on to the floor. These were nasty bruising injuries, but she broke no bones. However, she was now helpless. Wedged into the space in front of the passenger seat and unable to pull herself up from the floor on account of the great weight of her belly, she struggled feebly as another baby began to emerge.

The passenger door suddenly opened. Alison turned her head in hope, but her heart sank as she saw it was the infant that had caused the crash. It jumped in and began to suckle on Alison’s breast, despite her attempts to dislodge it. But then it stiffened, as if listening.

Outside, though Alison could not see it, a car had drawn up behind the crashed vehicle. Its owner, a middle-aged man, had just got out of the driver’s door and was making his way towards Michael’s car to see if he could help, when the poo baby suddenly appeared and began running towards him. He squinted in the poor light, then recoiled in horror as the malodorous infant launched itself at him. His smart trousers became smeared with poo, and his flailing hand caught the side of the creature’s head and was promptly plastered with further foul muck.

Beating a hasty retreat to his car, the man drove off with all haste. Satisfied, the excremental toddler ran back to the car to continue suckling from its mother. During the next twenty minutes, it had to fend off several other well-meaning Good Samaritans, by which time it had grown to almost four feet in height and had several allies.

Having given birth to yet another disgusting baby, Alison managed to summon up the strength to pull herself up on to her seat. She still had a few babies left inside her, but her belly was now only as large as an average nine-months-pregnant woman. She figured she could probably move a bit. And this was her plan - to escape while her offspring were still small. Beyond the crash barrier, she could see a tall mesh fence, and she thought she might be able to climb it. With any luck, her repulsive children would not be able to follow.

With all her strength, she pushed away the infants chewing on her nipples, dragged herself out of the car, stepped over the barrier and jogged towards the fence. Her offspring were having none of this and they gave immediate chase. Fear added strength to Alison’s strides, and she reached the fence just ahead of her pursuers. The hard metal mesh was cruel to her fingers, but she forced herself to ignore the pain and began climbing as quickly as she could. She could feel a baby beginning to emerge from her vagina, but she did not stop to shake it free.

Messy brown hands and a couple of tentacles pawed and grabbed at her legs, grasping her ankles, trying to pull her down. But she shook them off and climbed out of their reach. At this point she became aware of an evil smell, one that had nothing to do with her horrible progeny or the filth covering her own body, though it was similar. Then it occurred to her that it was probably the local sewage works, which the motorway crossed over shortly before the turn-off that led to the hospital.

She reached the top of the fence and climbed over it, wincing as barbed wire poked her flesh in half a dozen places. The baby issuing from between her legs suddenly slithered out of her cunt and dropped ten feet on to the ground, where it landed with a wet splat. Alison descended as quickly as she could and stamped on its head, just to make sure it was dead.

Already some of her children on the other side were attempting to climb the fence. Alison decided not to wait around to see if they succeeded. She turned and began trotting down a short grassy slope towards a collection of large cylindrical shapes that were dimly illuminated by pale blue mercury vapour lamps. As she approached the nearest of these she began to hear tell-tale footsteps behind her, and panic rose in her breast like bile.

The gently-curving wall of the cylindrical edifice was mostly featureless, but Alison’s eyes lit upon a ladder that rose vertically and continued to the top. She made for this and managed to climb out of reach of her offspring before any of them arrived at the ladder’s base. As she climbed, another baby began to push its way through her birth canal, and before she arrived at the top of the ladder it had come out completely. It dropped like a stone, hitting (but not quite dislodging) the largest of her pursuers, which was rapidly ascending after her.

She arrived at the top of the ladder and found herself on a narrow walkway that ran around the rim of what she could now see was a vast tank full of evil-smelling sludge, within which unseen bacteria were working feverishly to break down the sewage. A huge stirring device, anchored in the middle of the tank, was lazily describing a full circle as it slowly but surely mixed the tank’s contents. Alison carefully made her way around the walkway, pausing only when another baby (the last of this batch, she thought) began to emerge from her abused vagina.

She squatted and pushed, and the baby popped out of her without trouble. She picked it up and dispassionately threw it over the side of the tank. She did not hear it land. Now unencumbered by a huge belly, she hurried quickly around the walkway, mere yards ahead of her offspring. But as she reached the point on the tank directly opposite where she had climbed up the ladder, she realised that the ladder was the only way down from here. No convenient walkways linked to other tanks, and no other ladders were in evidence.

In despair, she realised she had no way of keeping away from her children now. But then she noticed that the poo monsters seemed to have lost interest in her, albeit temporarily. Lined up around the edge of the walkway, seven or eight of them were crouching down, putting their hands into the sludge, and eating what they brought out! Alison felt sick just watching them, but the creatures apparently found the stuff delicious.

Alison edged around the walkway cautiously. If the monsters could only remain preoccupied for a few moments more, she might be able to get to the ladder unmolested. Carefully, slowly, so as not to attract their attention, she continued to make her way around the rim of the tank, back towards the top of the ladder.

Approaching her goal brought her rather nearer to the creatures than she would have liked, and she was astonished by what she saw. The vile monsters were gobbling up the sludge as if they were starving, and their stomachs (if they had any) appeared to have no limitations. Indeed, those that had been feasting the longest had grown visibly larger even in the last couple of minutes.

A glance over the edge of the tank told Alison that all the creatures had climbed the ladder. She did a quick head count - there were ten monsters up here, eight on the far side of the ladder and two on her own side. This presented her with a dilemma: how was she to get past the two monsters nearest her? She opted for a slow, stealthy approach, since they were completely ignoring her. This would involve stepping over them, the thought of which she did not relish, but she plucked up her courage and stepped over the first, being very careful not to touch it.

So far so good. But as she lifted her foot to step over the second monster, it suddenly turned towards her and swiped at her with a heavy fist. Alison was knocked off the walkway and fell straight into the thick, evil-smelling sludge. She screamed in a wild panic, fearing she would be drowned in this sewage, and this was indeed a possibility. Fortunately she regained control of herself and resolved to treat the stuff as if it were quicksand. Already up to her neck in the muck, she paddled her arms and bicycled her legs until she had adopted an almost horizontal position. She now began to scull, swimming backwards towards the edge of the tank, but now on the other side of the monster who had knocked her in.

She had just about reached the side when she noticed the giant stirring arm making its way inexorably round the tank towards her. Slow-moving though it was, it would nevertheless reach her in a few seconds, and she dreaded to think what would happen if it hit her. She might be dragged tens of feet beneath the surface - it did not bear thinking about.

She forced herself to be calm, and when she reached the edge of the sludge she turned herself around and grabbed the walkway with both hands. Using all the strength she could muster, she hauled herself out of the sludge, covered from neck to toe in the stuff, and quickly made for the ladder. She reached it unchallenged, and hurriedly began to descend.

When she reached the ground, still no monsters were following her, and her hope returned. Even the sudden expulsion of a new sentient poo failed to dampen her spirits - she merely left it where it fell and hurried onward. Scaling the fence this time seemed tougher - maybe because there was less of a sense of urgency and she had time to think about how much it hurt - but when she finally reached the ground on the far side she felt a huge sense of relief. She climbed over the crash barrier and walked up to the car.

Michael had regained consciousness and was holding a blood-soaked handkerchief to his head. He looked up as Alison approached the open passenger door, and he smiled weakly.

“Thank goodness you’re okay,” he said. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine,” said Alison, “but how about you? You don’t look so good - can you drive?”

“I’m not sure I dare,” he replied. “I feel pretty groggy. Besides, I think the car’s too fucked up.”

“Great.” Alison rolled her eyes. “So what do we do?”

“Wave down a car?” suggested Michael. You might want to clean yourself up first though - nobody will want you to get in their car looking like that.”

Alison looked down at her naked body, every square inch of which was covered in sewage sludge. She wrinkled her nose up. “True,” she admitted, “but how do I get clean?”

“If you go back up the road a little way,” said Michael, “I think you’ll find there’s a grassy embankment on the other side of the crash barrier. Just roll around on the grass until you’re reasonably clean. Don’t take too long though.”

Alison did as he suggested, and within a few minutes was, if not clean, at least reasonably free of sewage. With grass sticking to the remaining brown streaks and assorted sticky areas of skin, she sat up and looked across at the lights of the sewage works. Black shapes moved about in the darkness, and she shivered. Getting up, she hurried back to the car.

“Come on,” she said to Michael, who was still in the car. “I don’t want to stick around here any longer than necessary. The monsters are quite capable of coming back and climbing over the fence to get us.”

“All right, all right.” Michael climbed out of the car, feeling his limbs gingerly. He looked dubiously at the cars zooming past at sixty miles per hour or more. “See if you can flag something down.”

Alison stood at the edge of the hard shoulder and waved to the approaching vehicles. After a couple of minutes, a small white van drove past and promptly pulled into the hard shoulder, slowing down as it did so. Then its reversing lights came on and it backed up towards Michael’s car. Relieved, Alison began walking towards it, with Michael following after her.

“Good evening!” called the driver of the van, a middle-aged Indian man with a thick grey beard. “Are you people all right?”

“Yes thanks, but our car’s had it,” said Alison.

“My goodness!” The van driver noticed Alison’s lack of attire for the first time. Then he noticed the smell. “What on Earth…?”

But his exclamations were interrupted, as a distant rumble as of rolling thunder swelled from barely perceptible beginnings to a volume that could not be ignored. Alison turned in fear, and her eyes confirmed her suspicions - the monsters were coming, and fast.

“Look at the size of them!” exclaimed Michael.

The van driver’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Holy crap!” He turned and ran to his van, climbing behind the wheel and starting the engine.

“Hurry!” urged Michael, and he ran for the back of the van. Opening one of the doors, he ushered Alison inside, then jumped in after her just as the driver shifted into first gear and put his foot to the floor.

A giant of a poo monster crashed through the fence as if it were tissue paper. Alison guessed its height at around twenty-five feet, maybe more, and she frantically backed away towards the front of the van. Michael, meanwhile, tried to pull the door closed, but a huge brown hand suddenly ripped it away from him. Wrenched off its hinges, the door flew through the air and clattered to the ground a few yards away, while a procession of huge poo monsters, some of them waving long tentacles in the air, began charging after the accelerating van.

Cars screeched to a halt and began to pile up behind the monsters, leaving their way fairly clear, and although the van quickly got up to fifty miles per hour, the monsters continued to gain.

“Can’t you go any faster?” demanded Michael of the driver.

“I’m getting there, I’m getting there!” responded the man frantically. “What the hell are those things?”

“They’re giant creatures made out of poo,” replied Alison.

“Hey, this is no joking matter!” snapped the driver.

“I’m not joking!”

As the car hit seventy, the creatures began to fall behind. “That’s a relief,” said Michael. “We appear to have found their speed limit.”

“Okay,” said the driver, “but this is my exit. I live not far away - where do you want me to drop you?”

“Can you take us to the hospital?” asked Alison.

“Sure, it’s pretty nearly on my way,” he replied.

The van pulled off at the exit and descended the slip road to a set of traffic lights which, as luck would have it, were on red. The driver stopped.

“Are you crazy?” asked Alison in concern. “Go! Never mind the lights.”

“Well…” The driver dithered unhappily. “I’m sure they’ll change in just a moment.”

“Here they come!” reported Michael, looking out of the back.

“Okay I’m going!” The driver shot away from the lights, pulling out in front of a car which had to slam on its brakes to avoid a collision. It honked its horn at him angrily.

The nearest monsters drew closer and closer as the van negotiated narrow, winding, thirty-limit roads at speeds of up to sixty miles an hour. By the time they reached the hospital, the monsters were only a couple of hundred yards away. Michael and Alison piled out of the back, and the van took off with as much acceleration as it could muster.

Alison, still naked and poo-smeared, hurried into the hospital’s main entrance, half-dragged by Michael who was trying to maintain a faster pace. Once inside, he let her go and ran up to the reception desk. “There’s something really big and nasty coming this way,” he told the receptionist, “and you can either wait until it gets here and all hell breaks loose, or you can get me a bottle of weak sugar solution as quickly as possible.”

“I’m sorry sir, do you have a medical problem?” asked the receptionist sweetly.

“I don’t have time for this crap,” snapped Michael. “Where’s Dr Singh?”

“He’s at home right now,” said the woman. “Now if you have a legitimate problem, then I will be able to help you, otherwise…”

“Otherwise this building is likely to be torn apart by an angry horde of creatures the like of which you’ve never seen!” hissed Michael. “Now, I need sugar solution! You must have a kitchen around here … a kettle, sugar, water … it’s really not that hard…”

“They’re coming!” said Alison, running up to Michael. “Quick, let’s hide!”

“No, we have to finish this,” said Michael determinedly.

There was an almighty crash and the sound of glass splintering as the sliding doors of the hospital entrance were battered down. Stooping low, the first of the poo giants entered the building, and panic immediately erupted as it got down on all fours and began crawling up the corridor towards the reception desk. The receptionist took one look at it and screamed.

“Now do you believe me?” demanded Michael. “Now will you please get some sugar solution?”

But the receptionist merely bolted from behind the desk and began to run down the corridor. Michael caught up with her and grabbed her arm. “Where’s the kitchen?” he shouted at her.

She tried to pull away from him, then pointed wildly down a nearby corridor. Michael let her go and hurried in the direction she had indicated. Alison followed, as did the monster, which was making rapid progress despite its ungainly crawl. It lunged at her with one outstretched arm, and almost grabbed her, but she put on a burst of speed and just evaded it.

“In here!” said Michael, and darted into a room on the left-hand side of the corridor. Alison hurried in after him, and they closed the door behind them.

The room was, indeed, a kitchen. Feverishly Michael filled up the kettle and switched it on. Then he rummaged in the cupboard for sugar, which he soon found in a large coffee tin. He poured a little of it into a saucepan, then stood over the kettle, willing it to boil faster.

There was an almighty bang on the door. Then another, and another. A split appeared, and splinters flew. Then a mighty fist pounded through, and in another few seconds the door was matchwood. A grinning brown face appeared, and then a hand darted in, aiming straight for Alison.

She did not even have time to dodge, and she screamed as she was pulled bodily out of the room. “Hurry Mike!” she yelled at her brother.

In the corridor, the monster victoriously held aloft its trophy. Rolling over on to its back, it lowered Alison on to its giant erect penis, holding her legs apart with its fingers. Alison closed her eyes in disgust and tried desperately to close her legs, but it was futile. The vile smell of the creature assaulted her nostrils and the feeling of its squishy hand around her torso was revolting. Her breasts sank deep into its excremental flesh, and as her pussy met the tip of its giant cock it was quickly coated in mushy poo.

But that was all. The massive penis was far too big to fit inside her, and the creature soon realised this, much to its frustration. After a few failed attempts, it gave up and instead began rubbing Alison’s body all over its erection. Alison was soon covered in poo again, and although she tried to keep her face clean, she found herself spitting poo and blowing it out of her nostrils every few seconds.

More monsters had by now arrived. One crawled alongside the first and tried to grab Alison away from its sibling. But the first monster slapped the other’s hand away and rolled over on to its front, raising itself up on to its hands and knees again. Alison found herself squeezed until she lost her breath, but then the pressure eased up as her captor began to crawl away.

Yet it found itself under attack from its brothers, who apparently wanted Alison for themselves. Unable to defend itself properly while holding Alison in one hand, the monster devised a new tactic. Alison found herself lifted up and around to behind the creature’s titanic backside, and then she gasped in horror as she found herself guided feet-first towards its puckered brown anus. Just before she reached it, the orifice dilated slightly and a rush of dark brown, evil-smelling sludge poured out, dribbling down the creature’s leg and forming a pool on the floor. Then, with a short push, Alison found herself thrust into the monster’s anus. Her legs disappeared up to mid-thigh, and then the monster adjusted its grip, pinning her arms to her sides as it pushed her further in. Waist-deep she went, then chest-deep and finally her breasts slid inside and she was buried neck-deep in the creature’s rectum.

“Michael!” she screamed at the top of her voice. “Hurry up and get me out of here!”

Vile fluids swirled about her naked body as she writhed ineffectually inside the bowels of the giant poo monster, which now attempted to escape with its prize. Crawling rapidly down the hospital corridor, it tried, with mounting difficulty, to fend off increasing numbers of its brethren. Eventually it succumbed, the others throwing themselves atop him. In the cramped corridor, this soon caused a blockage, and the poo monsters suddenly found themselves trapped in a tight place.

And this is how Michael found them, wedged into practically a solid lump. Clutching a pan filled with sugar solution, he advanced towards the creatures determinedly. Then he spotted Alison, or rather her head, protruding from the anus of one of the creatures. His eyes widened.

“Alison, what on Earth are you doing in there?” he asked.

“Oh just admiring the view, you know,” she replied. “What do you think I’m doing? Help me, dammit!”

Michael ran up to her and grasped her head. But as he began to pull, she yelled in pain. “Ouch Michael, are you trying to pull my head off?”

“Well how else am I going to get you out of there?” he demanded.

“I don’t know - what spells have you got memorised?”

“Precious few,” Michael admitted. “Mainly ones I’ve tried using on myself.”

“Such as?” Alison prompted.

“Um, a spell to improve someone’s eyesight…”

“A fat lot of good!” she remarked. “What else?”

“Um, a spell to increase someone’s intelligence…”

“Oh yes, just what we want - intelligent poo monsters!”

“A spell to make someone physically stronger…”

“Even worse!” Alison sighed. “This is awful.”

“And a spell to give someone understanding of foreign languages. I thought that one might be useful.”

Alison frowned. “You want to teach them French?”

“No, silly! English.”

“Oh.” Alison thought for a moment. “You think they might listen to reason? Oh heck!”

Her exclamation was due to a sudden jerking movement from her captor, which was renewing its efforts to escape. These proved ineffectual, however, and it soon stopped.

“Hey wait - I think I remember a spell,” said Alison suddenly. “It’s the spell to loosen one’s bowels. Hopefully it will get me out of this tight spot I’m in.”

“I don’t know…” began Michael dubiously.

“Well I think it’s a great idea,” said Alison firmly. “Pour the stuff on the floor and I’ll dictate to you.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Michael walked up as close as he dared to the nearest monster, and poured the sugar water on the floor. It spread out and seeped under the monster’s body.

“Since they’re all touching,” said Michael, “this could well work for them all. But we’ll see.”

Alison recited the words of the anti-constipation spell, and Michael repeated them while touching the edge of the water with his hand. Then he stood back to await the spell’s effects. For a minute or two, nothing seemed to happen. Then there was a gurgle from the nearest monster. This was followed by more gurgles, and rumbles, and wet farting sounds, and finally a veritable geyser of very dark brown, liquid poo erupted from the anus of the nearest monster.

Michael leaped hastily back, narrowly avoiding being sprayed with the stuff. But the dark diarrhoea continued to pour out unabated, and soon several of the monsters were defecating in similarly spectacular style. Alison could feel the pressure building up around her body, and she wriggled as hard as she could, trying to break free.

By now the floor was awash, ankle-deep in diarrhoea, which quickly spread down the corridor. Hospital staff, who had fled at the initial commotion and were now venturing back since it had quietened down, saw the oncoming tidal bore and ran for cover again. Michael retreated from the advancing flow, backing away down the corridor while staring in puzzlement at the diarrhoea itself. Were there fish jumping in there?

Of course what he was seeing was not fish, but little sentient chunks of poo that were slightly more solid than the surrounding runny stuff. There were hundreds of them, swimming about in the diarrhoea, looking desperately for a host…

Alison finally popped free of the monster’s rectum and fell on her back with a splat in the middle of the pool of diarrhoea. It was now a foot deep and she actually submerged completely for a moment before she managed to sit up straight, spluttering and spitting and wiping diarrhoea from her face. Then she gasped in horror as she saw slimy long slug-like turds slithering over her breasts. She knocked them off in disgust, then realised that she was surrounded by them - the diarrhoea was seething with these revolting little creatures.

And then she felt one enter her cunt. It was so sudden, swift and smooth that she barely noticed it. But then it happened again, and again, and it occurred to her that it had probably happened at least a couple of times while she was preoccupied with wiping her face. She screamed and put a hand protectively between her legs, but this hardly seemed to matter - almost immediately she felt another poo-slug slide beneath her fingers and slip into her vagina. She screamed again and got to her feet as quickly as possible. Already her belly was beginning to bulge.

Several of the horrible creatures were clinging to her legs, and she began to knock them off one by one. But while she did so, a couple that had been sticking to her lower back quickly descended, slid between her buttocks, and slithered into her cunt. In a panic, she began to run towards Michael, but she almost immediately slipped and fell on her back again, with the result that another couple of slugs entered her. As she got to her feet, a slug that was crawling up her inner thigh made the same journey, and it was followed a second later by one that was clinging to her left buttock.

She rid herself off all the other slugs that she could find, and began to wade in a more sedate fashion towards Michael and the edge of the pool. By the time she reached her brother, another couple of slugs that had been ascending the backs of her legs unnoticed had entered her. She did not need to reach up inside her cunt to know that they had all buried themselves deep inside her womb.

Michael looked at his sister’s belly with pity - it looked seven or eight months pregnant again. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here - those things look pretty immobile right now.”

“What?” Alison was incredulous. “Hello!? It may have escaped your attention, Mike, but they’ve got me well and truly knocked up again. What am I supposed to do now? I can’t go home - there are more of these creatures there. And we’ll be back to square one in any case. Come on - we need to think of a plan to finish this once and for all.”

Michael sighed. “I wish I could.”

“Try your language spell - see if we can at least communicate with them.”

“But I don’t have any more sugar solution,” Michael pointed out.

“Hey, you can make some more can’t you?”

Michael looked down the corridor towards the kitchen door, which was now several inches deep in poo. He wrinkled his nose - he would have to paddle through fifteen feet of diarrhoea to get there. He handed the pan to Alison. “Be my guest,” he said.

Alison rolled her eyes and walked back into the lake of poo. She entered the kitchen and quickly brushed off the slug-creatures that were already ascending her legs. A few minutes later she returned with the pan full of sugar solution. “Now what?” she asked.

“Now what indeed? There’s no clear floor space on which to pour the solution - I can’t really cast the spell with all this…” He broke off suddenly. “Uh-oh,” he said, looking down the corridor.

Alison followed his gaze, and her jaw dropped. The nearest giant had succeeded in freeing itself from the mass of poo monster bodies, and it was crawling swiftly towards them.

“Now Mike, now!” exclaimed Alison.

Michael poured the sugar solution directly on to the floor in front of him, and gulped in fear. As the solution spread out, he kept to the near edge of the pool, crouching down to touch the water’s edge. Then the moment came - the advancing monster put its own hand down in the centre of the pool. Michael quickly recited the spell from memory, and the monster suddenly stopped in its tracks, with an expression on its face that might almost be taken as puzzlement.

“Stay there, monster!” commanded Alison. “Stay!”

“Mama!” rumbled the monster in a deep bass voice. “Poo love mama!”

“I want you to stay right there, monster!” Alison continued. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Mama poo! Poo love mama! Poo give mama more poo!”

“Sheesh, this isn’t going to help,” muttered Michael. “He’s got a one-track mind and he doesn’t have the intelligence to change his tune.”

Alison sighed. “All right then,” she said. “Cast the other spell while you can.”

Michael nodded, and quickly cast the intelligence spell. The effect on the monster’s language was immediate.

“My goodness mother,” it boomed, “you look just lovely! I wish I could have sex with you but, bugger it, my dick’s just too big to fit inside you.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” replied Alison. “So do you think you and your friends could just leave me alone?”

“Oh we couldn’t possibly do that,” said the monster. “We think, therefore we fuck our mother. That’s the way it goes. I notice you’re pregnant again, by the way - the look suits you.”

Alison looked down at her belly. It was growing almost visibly. She whimpered in fear. “But this is killing me!” she complained. “It’s got to stop! This was all a horrible mistake, and I want it to end!”

“That’s just not going to happen, I’m afraid,” said the monster. “These brothers of mine will figure out soon enough how to get out of here, and they’ll follow you wherever you go.”

“Can’t you help me?” Alison begged him. “Maybe we can make a deal or something.”

“What kind of a deal?” the monster wanted to know.

Michael now spoke up. “Maybe I can make you smaller,” he said. “Small enough for you to have sex with your mother again.”

“Michael!” exclaimed Alison, shocked.

“Hush,” he whispered to her.

“Hmm, I like the sound of that,” said the monster. “Okay, what do you want me to do in return?”

“Help us kill your brothers, and get rid of all the other poo monsters that we can find.”

“I see.” The monster pondered this. “So you’ll let me fuck my mother, in return for ensuring that I’m the only sentient poo that can do so?”

“That’s the idea,” confirmed Michael.

“Hmm, and what guarantee do I have that you’ll keep your word?” asked the big poo.

Michael looked at Alison. “It’s your call,” he said.

Alison shook her head in disbelief. “You want me to submit to being regularly fucked by a poo monster in return for him killing all the rest of them?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah, I think that covers it.”

Alison sighed and thought for a moment. “Okay,” she said. “As long as he doesn’t get me pregnant - he’ll have to use condoms.”

“I swear I’ll use a condom every time,” agreed the monster.

“In that case,” said Alison, “I swear I’ll let you fuck me … once a week.”

The monster shook his head. “That’s no good at all - I was made to fuck you. Fucking you is my raison d’etre. I need to come inside you at least seven times a day.”

“Seven times a day!” echoed Alison in disbelief. “No way!”

“Perhaps we can compromise,” interjected Michael diplomatically. “How about once a day?”

“No way!” repeated Alison.

“Not a chance,” said the poo monster. “I could maybe, just maybe, get by on four fucks a day - but that’s my limit.”

Alison shook her head slowly. Then her shoulders slumped dejectedly. “All right - once a day.”

“Four times,” insisted the monster.

“Perhaps twice?” ventured Michael.

“All right, twice,” conceded Alison.

“Twice just won’t cut it,” said the monster. “Four times, or I explain to my brothers just how to get out of the mess they’re in, and I’ll help them do with you whatever they want.”

“Three times,” said Michael, “and don’t push your luck - remember we’re offering you exclusive rights to Alison’s body.”

“Does the mother agree?” inquired the monster.

Alison shrugged her shoulders in defeat. “Okay, three times a day,” she said.

“Then we have a deal,” said the monster. “But I warn you - if you try to trick me, then I swear I will raise an army of my brothers to rise against you.”

“I understand,” said Michael. “So what’s your plan?”

“And what’s your name? What do we call you?” inquired Alison.

“Name?” The monster seemed puzzled. “Well I suppose I don’t have one. You had better name me.”

“Okay, we’ll call you Derek,” said Alison.

“Derek the Poo?” asked Michael with an expression of faint distaste.

“I like the name!” Alison responded defensively.

“I shall begin by breaking the necks of my brothers,” said Derek dispassionately. “It will take a few minutes - I suggest you find your way out of the building and meet me around the front.”

“Okay, see you later then,” agreed Michael, and he took his sister by the arm, leading her down the corridor. “With any luck,” he whispered to her, “the police will be out there waiting for us … and him.”

Alison said nothing, but the mention of police made her suddenly feel very naked and exposed. What if the press were there too? She took her brother’s hand and followed him as he sought out Exit signs. Within a few minutes, they were emerging into the open air, and they quickly made their way around to the front.

A single police car was outside, along with a crowd of people, many of them hospital staff. Alison and Michael hung back - they did not particularly want to attract attention to themselves. But then a deep roar sounded from within the hospital, and Derek emerged like a rampaging King Kong. Screams erupted and the crowd scattered. Derek stood up and scanned the ground for his mother and uncle. Alison began to retreat around the corner in fear, but apparently the poo monster had sharp eyes. A couple of steps brought him to where they were standing, and he picked them up bodily, one in each hand. Then he ran out of the forecourt and on to the road, where he began to retrace his steps back towards the motorway.

“I can get us back to where I was born,” he said. “You’ll have to direct me from there.”

Michael and Alison were much too terrified and breathless to answer. The speed of the monster was dizzying - they were used to travelling at sixty miles per hour in a car, but this was a completely different matter. The ground rushed past them with an uneven, bouncing motion that made both humans physically sick. Cars, meanwhile, honked and crashed around them, causing havoc on both sides of the road. Oblivious to all this, Derek pounded his way towards the motorway, headed up the slip road (the wrong way), then charged down the hard shoulder at a pace that he apparently could keep up almost indefinitely.

Once they reached the spot where Michael’s car was crashed, the monster stopped and, once he had got his breath back, Michael instructed him on where to go next. And so the journey continued, while Alison’s belly grew to an unprecedented size. By the time they reached Michael’s house, she still had not given birth.

The house was empty of poo monsters. Where they had gone, Alison could not even guess, but a trail of poo led down the road as far as the eye could see. Since Derek was unable to enter the house, Michael hurriedly prepared a sugar solution while his sister collapsed on the living room floor under the weight of her own belly.

Once the sugar solution was ready, Michael pored through his spell book looking for a suitable incantation. His eyes lit upon the compaction spell he had once suggested trying on Karen Montague’s oversized breasts. The spell allowed for parameters, so that he could specify, with a small change to the wording of the incantation, the amount by which Derek’s size would be reduced. Rushing outside, he prepared a rough circle for Derek to stand inside, and then he cast the spell.

Derek rapidly shrank down from twenty-five feet tall to a mere eight feet. Michael considered casting the spell again to shrink him to a more reasonable six feet, and explained this plan to Derek. But then police sirens sounded in the distance.

“They’re coming this way,” observed Derek. “This will have to do. Let us get inside.”

Michael and Derek hurried into the house, where they found Alison in the process of giving birth on the floor of the living room. With reluctant fascination, Michael watched as Alison’s vagina dilated to a huge width, and a brown object began to force its way out.

Derek kneeled down between Alison’s legs. “I suppose you want me to kill this thing when it comes out?” he asked.

“Yes please!” hissed Alison between puffs.

A little brown poo-baby slithered out of her vagina, and Derek picked it up. He sighed. “Such a beautiful baby,” he said. “What a shame.” He broke its neck.

The doorbell rang. “That’ll be the police, I suspect,” said Michael. “I’ll try to get rid of them.”

He answered the door and smiled as he recognised DCs Barnett and Evans.

“Good evening sir,” said Barnett. “Had a repetition of the other day’s incident, have we?” He indicated the trail of poo leading from the house out to the road and beyond.

“Apparently so,” agreed Michael. “Just after you left my sister took a nasty turn and I drove her back to the hospital. When we got back, a few minutes ago, we found this mess all over the place. Have you made any progress in discovering the cause?”

“Uh, no sir, not as yet. We were hoping you could help us, actually. You say you drove to the hospital?”

“That’s right, yes,” Michael confirmed.

“And then you drove back?”

“Actually no, we got a lift back. Unfortunately I crashed the car on the motorway. I was about to ring my breakdown service.”

Barnett looked most unsatisfied. “And you didn’t see anything around here, either before you left or after you got back?”

“No, nothing I’m afraid,” confessed Michael.

“Hmm. Well, if you do see anything, give us a call won’t you?”

“Of course,” said Michael.

“Goodnight then sir.”

The constables left, and Michael closed the front door, much relieved. He returned to the living room, where Derek was calmly despatching another poo-baby. The monster’s casual strength was impressive. Though Michael did not know it, the compaction spell had reduced Derek’s size, but not his weight or his strength - the monster was now far more dense, and therefore tougher, than ever.

Half an hour later, when Alison had finished giving birth and all the babies had been killed, Derek took the bodies upstairs to flush them, bit by bit, down the toilet. Alison, meanwhile, exhausted from her ordeal, took a shower and went to bed in Michael’s room (her own bed was covered in poo. She fell fast asleep almost immediately, and the poo that soon afterwards slid out of her anus was able to enter her vagina without trouble.

Michael knew he had a lot of work to do around the house, but he, too, was worn out from the evening’s events. He switched on the television and sat down on the sofa to channel-surf. Derek selected a chair and also began watching.

“This is intriguing,” the poo monster observed. “What a fascinating insight into your culture!”

Michael chuckled. “This is the low end,” he said. “Early evening television is much better.”

“Is it? I shall look forward to watching television tomorrow, then,” said Derek.

Michael frowned slightly. “So, are you planning just to live here then?” he asked.

“Why not? Since Alison is still producing offspring regularly, and since I am entitled to three fucks a day, what would be the point in my leaving? Remember that each time I enter or leave the house, I run the risk of somebody seeing me.”

“Good point,” admitted Michael. “Very well. Perhaps you could hang out in the loft, then? It’s just that wherever you walk, you leave these horrid messy footprints, and sooner or later I’m going to have to clean this house, and keep it clean.”

“Ah.” Derek nodded. “Well perhaps you could get me some shoes?”

Michael saw the logic in this. “Good idea,” he said. “What size do you take?”

“I’ve no idea,” replied Derek. “You’d better measure my feet.”

Michael fetched a ruler and measured Derek’s feet, making a mental note of the size so he could go out to buy shoes the following day. He was not at all sure whether he would be able to find any large enough, but he could at least try.

“Well,” he said, “I’m going to bed. Keep an eye on Alison for me, would you? I’d hate to wake up tomorrow to find more monsters running around the place.”

“Don’t you worry,” Derek reassured him. “I shall keep my end of the bargain. But first thing tomorrow morning, I’m going to insist on my first fuck.”

“Fair enough,” agreed Michael. “Goodnight then.” He climbed the stairs, stripped, took a shower, then climbed into bed next to his sister. Within minutes he, too, was fast asleep.

The following morning he was awakened by the sound of the door opening. He was vaguely aware of having been woken up several times during the night by the sound of Alison giving birth, and of Derek coming in to despatch new-born poo-babies. But despite these interruptions he had slept reasonably well. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, then stared in surprise at Derek, who had just entered the room.

The poo monster was carrying a tray, upon which were set two breakfast bowls and a couple of tea cups on saucers. Astonished, Michael pulled himself up into a sitting position and allowed Derek to place the tray on his lap. Meanwhile, Alison was stirring, and once she had rubbed her eyes she, too, stared in surprise at the tray. The bowls were both full of cornflakes, swimming in milk.

“I wasn’t sure whether either of you took sugar in your tea,” said Derek, “so I brought a little bowl of sugar just in case.” He handed the bowl to Michael, who now noticed that Derek was wearing the rubber gloves he used to wash the dishes.

“Wow, Derek,” he said, impressed. “This is great - how did you know what to prepare?”

“I’ve been up watching television all night,” said Derek, “and I’ve absorbed a bit of your culture - I saw a show in which the characters had breakfast. Did I do all right?”

“Yes, it’s brilliant,” said Michael. “Thank you very much.”

Alison looked rather disgusted at the thought of the monster serving her breakfast, but after a sharp nudge from Michael she smiled and thanked Derek. The two of them ate in silence, trying not to be too obvious about looking for traces of poo in their food, while Derek watched them intently. When they finished their cereal, he grinned a wide, brown, toothless grin.

“Can I have sex now?” he asked.

Alison groaned and tried to pull the covers over her head.

“Now, now Alison, you did promise,” Michael reminded her.

“Three times a day,” added Derek.

“That’s right,” agreed Michael. “And the sooner you get it out of the way … um, the sooner it’ll be over.”

Alison sighed. “Well at least you can clear out of the room, Mike,” she said. “I certainly don’t need you here.”

“Um, well I was thinking you could go into your own room to do it,” said Michael. “That way only one bed will get messy.”

Alison growled, but she could see the sense in this. She got out of bed, dressed, Michael noticed, in a t-shirt and nothing else, and followed Derek out of the room and into her own bedroom, where the bed was still caked in dry or drying poo. Taking off her t-shirt, she lay down on the bed on her back. “Let’s get it over with,” she said. “Do you have a condom?”

Derek responded by picking up a roll of cling-film that he had placed on her bedside table. He tore off a length and wrapped it around his growing erection. “I could find no condoms in the house,” he said. “This should do instead, will it not?”

“Um, I guess so,” said Alison a little uncertainly. She spread her legs apart as Derek climbed on top of her, then closed her eyes as she felt the film-wrapped tip of his cock penetrate her vagina. She tried to imagine this was not happening, as he began to thrust into her while one of his hands kneaded her breasts, leaving streaks of poo all over her chest.

But when Derek tried to kiss her on the lips, she could not take it any more. “Stop that, no!” she shouted. “I promised to have sex with you, not kiss you!”

Derek looked annoyed, but said nothing and merely continued thrusting inside her. Minute after minute went by, and soon the screwing became not only unpleasant but also monotonous for Alison. “Aren’t you finished yet?” she complained.

“No … sorry, my mind’s on other things,” confessed Derek. “One of the drawbacks of having my intelligence increased, I suppose. It might help if we tried a different position…”

Alison rolled her eyes. “What position?” she asked.

“Doggy style?” he requested hopefully.

“All right - well you’ll have to pull out so I can turn over.”

Derek withdrew, and noticed with alarm that the cling-film had almost completely come off his cock - it was now little more than a bunched-up plastic rag draped over the end of his erection. He wondered whether he should try to put it back on the way it was, then reasoned that the same thing would only happen again. Alison, meanwhile, had not spotted this development, and she got on to her hands and knees so that Derek could enter her from behind.

And enter her he did, pushing the cling-film deep into Alison’s cunt, where it soon came off. This time the sex was better - it felt more exciting. Derek hammered his huge tool in and out of Alison’s cunt, his passion building to ever-higher levels until he finally reached his orgasm. Plunging himself as deep into Alison’s body as possible, he pumped spurt after spurt of diarrhoea directly into her womb. Pretty soon it had filled her up and was pouring out of her cunt around the sides of Derek’s cock.

“Dammit Derek, I felt that!” exclaimed Alison. “You’ve fucking knocked me up again!”

“Oops sorry,” said Derek apologetically. He withdrew, and liquid poo poured out of Alison’s vagina. “Don’t worry - in an hour I’ll get rid of whatever comes out.”

“That’s not the point!” Alison growled in frustration. “That’s it - no more sex for you until you get a proper condom - one that will work!”

“But where can I find such a thing?” asked Derek. “It is unsafe for me to leave the house.”

“That’s not my problem,” said Alison with a shrug.

Derek got up and stomped through to the other bedroom, annoyed. “Michael!”

Michael was not in the bedroom, so Derek tried the study.

“Yes?” asked Michael, looking up from the computer where he sat reading his spell book.

“Alison’s refusing to have sex again until I get proper condoms. You’ll have to go out and get me some, as well as some shoes and some other clothes I guess. If you really want to clean this house you’ll have to take steps to ensure I don’t smear bits of myself all over it.”

Michael sighed and put down his book. “Yeah, I guess that’s sensible,” he said. “Very well, I’ll go out with Alison.”

“That may not be a good idea - she’s pregnant again.”

“What?”

Derek shrugged. “My makeshift condom didn’t work very well.”

Michael threw off the covers and climbed out of bed, being careful to avoid the many messy footprints that Derek had left. He got dressed, said goodbye to Alison, and then left the house, leaving Derek to take care of his sister.

For the next half an hour, while Alison took a shower to clean herself off and try to empty as much diarrhoea out of her cunt as possible, Derek read carefully through the spell book, as well as the translation file on the computer, which Michael had rather carelessly left open. Finally he found what he was looking for, and he went downstairs to get things ready.

Alison’s belly was getting pretty big by now. She dried herself and put on a large baggy t-shirt - there did not seem to be much point in wearing anything else. Then, as she was brushing her teeth, she heard Derek calling from downstairs. Puzzled, she spat, rinsed, then went downstairs, waddling somewhat on account of the weight she was carrying, to see what Derek wanted. “Where are you?” she called.

“In the kitchen,” Derek replied. “I’ve come up with a new recipe I think you’ll like.”

Alison wrinkled her nose at the thought, but walked into the kitchen anyway, where Derek was standing with a pan in his hand. As soon as her bare feet stepped on to the linoleum, she realised the floor was wet and sticky, but the implications of this did not hit her until Derek began to recite an ancient incantation. In horror she jumped backwards, but it was too late.

Almost immediately she felt weak-kneed. Her face flushed as she stared at Derek. She had never realised how attractive he was before - how beautifully proportioned his muscular limbs were, how noble his face looked. She felt a surge of longing for him to take her into his arms, and to make love to her over and over again. She felt light-headed, as if she were about to faint. What an exquisite and handsome creature he was!

“Oh Derek!” she exclaimed, and rushed into his waiting arms.

Derek smiled and lifted her up. Tucking one arm behind her knees, he carried her out of the room and up the stairs to her bedroom. Laying her down gently on the bed, he took off her t-shirt, which Alison willingly allowed him to do. Smiling up at him, she spread her legs wide for him.

The monster climbed on top of her and entered her with a will. Thrusting hard inside her, he soon approached his climax, but instead of coming inside her he withdrew and aimed his seed over Alison’s belly and breasts. Alison smiled and rubbed handfuls of diarrhoea on her nipples and plastered it over every inch of her enormous, curvaceous belly.

Then she moaned as a contraction hit. Arching her back, she grimaced as a new poo-baby began to force its way out. She pushed hard, and little by little the baby emerged. When it finally slithered out, Derek picked it up with a look of pride. He smacked its bottom and it let out a little cry. Then he showed it to Alison.

Alison smiled as she looked at it. How sweet - it had its father’s nose. Its little eyes stared around blankly, then abruptly they focused on her. “Hello Mummy!” it said in a high, squeaky voice.

Alison almost dropped it in surprise. “It can speak?”

“Of course - he’s my son, isn’t he?” said Derek.

“I suppose so,” replied Alison, and then she winced as another contraction hit.

“Do you mind if I suck on your nipple?” asked the baby.

“Um, go ahead,” she said, and the baby fastened its mouth to her breast.

Over the next forty-five minutes Alison gave birth to seventeen babies - a new record for her. By the time she had finished she was exhausted. Meanwhile, Derek was very horny again, and he mounted her almost as soon as the last baby had come out.

Tired though she was, Alison happily wrapped her legs around her lover and sighed with pleasure as she felt his impregnating diarrhoea flood into her womb. By now, her first child, whom she had named Bobby, was almost as big as his Dad, and he was hopping excitedly from one foot to the other by the side of the bed.

“Mummy, can I fuck you too?” he asked.

“No, dear,” said Alison firmly. She was determined that only her beautiful Derek should have sex with her.

“Oh don’t be mean, honey,” said Derek. “The poor lad is obviously desperate - you wouldn’t want to hurt your own son by rejecting him would you?”

“No, of course not,” said Alison, capitulating immediately. “Climb aboard, Bobby.”

Bobby could barely contain his excitement as he mounted his mother, and he shot his load pretty quickly. After that, as each of the seventeen babies grew large enough, they all took a turn at screwing Alison. By the time they were finished, she was ready to give birth again.

“I can foresee a problem here,” observed Derek as he fought his way through a crowd of his chattering offspring to reach the bed. “We’ll need to leave this house or there will soon be standing room only. Any ideas where we could go?”

“There’s a bunch of your less intellectually-gifted cousins in the city sewers,” said Alison. “We could send our kids there. But I don’t know how they would get there during daylight hours without attracting attention.”

“Not they: we,” corrected Derek. “We’ll all go there tonight, after dark. But in the meantime, we must avoid getting you pregnant again.”

“What?” Alison was rather alarmed by this. She loved Derek, but she had no desire to return to the sewer with him.

“How are you going to stop us impregnating Mummy?” asked Max, the third oldest of their sons. “Restrict us to anal sex only?”

“An excellent idea, Max,” said Derek. “Just until tonight anyway.”

“But I don’t like anal sex!” whined Bobby. “It’s icky!”

“That’s just tough, Bobby,” said Derek sternly. “From now on its anal sex only.”

The clamour of bickering poo monsters completely drowned out the sound of the front door opening. Michael had returned from shopping, and he was most surprised to hear the animated conversations taking place in Alison’s bedroom. Tiptoeing up the stairs, he quickly espied the crush of monsters through the open bedroom door. He quietly descended the stairs again, went back out to the car, and then drove off on a very different quest.

When he returned, half an hour later, he was carrying a brand new chainsaw and a look of grim determination. Deal or no deal, he was going to finish this. The chainsaw was fuelled up and ready to go, and he knew how to use it. Quietly entering the house, he pulled the cord and the machine roared into life.

All conversation in Alison’s bedroom ceased. Alison was in the process of giving birth to the eleventh son in her latest brood, and her surprise at hearing the strange sound caused her to pop the baby free with some force. Derek frowned, and squeezed his way through the crowd to leave the room. So he it was that Michael first met as he came up the stairs, ready to do battle.

“That looks nasty,” said Derek. “Is it for me?”

“You cheated on the deal!” Michael accused him. “You said you’d get rid of all your offspring, and you haven’t!”

“I changed the deal,” replied Derek calmly. “Alison is in love with me now and doesn’t mind keeping our kids.”

“You’re lying,” said Michael. “You’re mad if you think I’d believe that!”

“You should have hidden your spell book from me,” said Derek. “I found a very nice Sexual Attraction spell, which worked like a charm on your sister.”

And now Michael realised how stupid he had been to leave the computer on with the translation file still open. He should never have underestimated the intelligence of this disgusting creature.

“I did something else which might interest you,” said Derek, walking deliberately down the stairs towards Michael.

Michael revved the chainsaw and waved it threateningly at Derek. “Come any closer,” he said, “and I’ll dismember you.”

“Oh don’t be so melodramatic,” said Derek. “You can step back into the living room as I pass if you like - the thing I want to show you is in the kitchen.”

Curious despite himself, Michael retreated into the living room and allowed Derek to pass. The poo monster walked into the kitchen, then turned when he reached the cooker.

“Come on in,” said Derek.

Warily Michael advanced, still holding the chainsaw out in front of him. He walked into the kitchen, then stopped, waiting to see what Derek had to show him.

“Foolish human,” remarked Derek, and he cast another spell.

Nothing happened.

“Think I’m stupid?” inquired Michael. He revved the chainsaw again. “You obviously didn’t read the whole of the spell book - you must have missed the part about the casting of a spell requiring bare skin to be touching the floor.”

“Bugger,” said Derek.

Michael advanced, then swiped quickly with his chainsaw, slicing through Derek’s neck. The poo monster’s head tumbled to the floor, and his body toppled over, lifeless.

Staring down at the slain monster, Michael spat contemptuously. “Shit for brains,” he muttered. Then he turned and ran up the stairs to Alison’s bedroom. Swinging the chainsaw back and forth, he carved a swathe of destruction through the ranks of the monsters milling around his sister’s bed. Limbs and heads flew this way and that, while Alison screamed at the sight of her children being destroyed. Within a minute, all the monsters were dead, right down to the smallest baby, which Alison had just given birth to. There were no more to come.

“Where’s Derek?” asked Alison, sobbing.

“Dead,” replied Michael. “Come on, pull yourself together - I have to cast a few spells on you to stop this horror.”

He led Alison downstairs, then fetched the spell book and rifled through it in search of helpful spells. Over the next half hour he cast six spells on his sister, after which time he figured she was pretty much cured.

“Right,” he said. “Go and have a shower, and then we’ll work together to clear up all this mess.”

Alison nodded. “Okay,” she said. “But what are you going to do about the monsters in the sewers?”

“Um, I’ve no idea. But I suppose it’s conceivable that they could still impregnate you by sending another tentacle up the U-bend.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do about that, unless I go down into the sewer with the chainsaw. But I don’t really fancy my chances of getting them all - and if they managed to grab hold of me…” He shuddered.

“Never mind,” said Alison with a sigh. “But perhaps you could accompany me to the toilet every time I go, and hack through any tentacle that appears?”

“I can do that,” agreed Michael. “Good plan.”

Alison went off to have her shower, then she put on some underwear, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of shoes. For the first time in ages, it seemed, she was both clean and fully-clothed.

They gathered the bits of poo monsters into a succession of black dustbin liners, then put them outside in preparation for ferrying them to the tip. As they were putting out the last of the bags, Alison felt a soft poo suddenly slither out of her anus and into her panties. She stiffened in alarm.

“Michael!” she exclaimed. “A poo just came out of its own accord!”

Her brother’s eyes widened in concern. “Is it moving?” he asked.

Alison paused. “No,” she admitted. “But obviously your spells didn’t fix everything.”

Michael shrugged. “I did my best,” he said, “but these spells tend to have side-effects, and sometimes the side-effects are as bad as the problem the spell was supposed to fix. You’re just going to have to live with this one, I’m afraid.”

“Terrific.” Alison rolled her eyes. “What am I going to do when school starts?”

“I don’t know - try to go to the loo after every lesson, I suppose.”

Alison nodded. She hoped this tactic would work, but deep down she doubted it. “Come on then,” she said with a sigh of resignation. “Let’s go in and clean the house.”

girls lick an eat poo

Alison Dawkins stared out of the car window at the passing beech hedge, trying to make out the identity of the birds on the lake beyond. It was hard to tell at this distance, particularly since she could only see them for a fraction of a second at a time. She had just about decided that they were mallards when a sharp instruction from her brother Michael jolted her from her reverie.

“Quick,” he said, “grab the forty miles per hour sign.”

She bent down and felt around under her seat for the A3-sized placards that he had made up. She pulled them out and flipped through them, looking for the one he wanted.

“Good grief, would you look at this idiot?” growled Michael. “Doesn’t he know what a de-restricted sign means, for heaven’s sake?” He changed down into third gear and cruised up to a few yards behind the bumper of the car in front, edging out towards the middle of the road in the hope that a break in the oncoming traffic would coincide with a long straight stretch. To his delight, after the next corner the road was clear for a couple of hundred yards.

“Okay, here we go,” he said. “Hold up the sign!”

As the car swung out to overtake, Alison pressed her sign against the window, while her brother hooted to get the attention of the other car’s driver. Peeping around the edge of the placard, she saw the elderly gentleman in question start in surprise as he read the message: “THIS IS NOT A 40 LIMIT, YOU IDIOT!”

Leaving the old man spluttering indignantly in his wake, Michael grinned as he quickly roared up to fifty miles per hour then changed up into fourth, still accelerating. “Finally!” he exclaimed. “Thanks Ali.”

Alison replaced the signs under her seat and returned to staring out of the window. Her brother glanced across at her. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, fine,” she replied a little dolefully. A moment later, she added, “I was kind of hoping we could have another look at your spell book this weekend.”

“Now, Ali, you know my feelings on that,” her brother reproached her gently. “I didn’t intend for you to see that at all, and what I told you was meant to put you off, not encourage you.”

“But it’s magic, Mike. How could I not be incredibly curious about it?”

Michael sighed. “I know, I know. But trust me - I’ve had some very major problems with spells I’ve cast in the past. Some of those that I cast on other people had horrible consequences.”

“But didn’t you say that the nasty consequences could be avoided if you were careful?”

“Sometimes. Usually,” he admitted. “But there was always the potential for accidents, and I experienced a few too many of those, which is why I gave it up. I haven’t practised magic in almost three months now - since just before you came to stay.”
“But haven’t you been tempted?” inquired Alison.

“Occasionally, perhaps. But not enough to want to risk it.”

Alison pouted. It was just too awful to discover that actual magic really did exist, only to be told she was never to experience it. She tried again. “But think of all the good you could do!” she pressed him.

He shook his head. “I once felt the same way,” he said. “But painful experience made me a sadder and a wiser man.”

Alison looked at him querulously, trying to place the reference. Then she smiled and said, “Well, Mister Ancient Mariner, perhaps you just lost confidence in your abilities. But you know what they say: if at first you don’t succeed…”

.”..Give up,” her brother finished. “And it wasn’t the mariner, it was the wedding guest. But it’s not a case of trying again if you fail - the consequences of failure are sometimes impossible to rectify. Invariably you end up making things worse.”

Alison turned back to the window. “Whatever,” she said in disappointment. “Why do you keep the book, then?”

Michael shrugged uncomfortably. “Well I wouldn’t want it falling into the wrong hands,” he said.

“So why not destroy it?”

“Oh I couldn’t do that - it’s far too old, valuable and unique. It would be like … I don’t know … dismantling Stonehenge or something.”

“What are you going to do with it, then?”

“Just keep it, I suppose. Pass it on to my kids eventually, assuming I have any. Or to you, if I don’t - if you promise not to try using it.”

Alison said nothing. She knew perfectly well that she would not promise any such thing. If she ever got hold of that book, nothing would prevent her from experimenting with it. She changed the subject. “So you’ll be back next Saturday, then?” she asked.

“Yes, sometime in the afternoon,” he confirmed. “It’s a long drive down from Newcastle - I’ll probably leave early in the morning and stop for lunch somewhere on the way. You going to be studying hard while I’m gone?”

Alison shrugged. “Sure,” she said. “Mr Allen’s set some pretty tough assignments.” Then she frowned in annoyance. “You know, that arsehole actually said to me it was weird that I was living with my brother!”

Michael pursed his lips. “Well what did he think you should do after Mum … you know…?”

“I know! I said that to him. He said I should be living with my grandparents or something.”

“What an idiot. As if you’d move out of the city away from all your friends… What a prat.”

“Yeah. Anyway he lightened up a bit when I told him how old you were. But even so.”

She lapsed into silence and neither of them said much for the rest of the journey home. Michael backed into the driveway and Alison got out. She walked around to the driver’s side, where Michael was winding down his window.

“You got everything you need?” he asked her. “House keys?”

Alison patted her pocket. It clinked. “And sixty pounds in cash,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Well there’s plenty of food in both the fridge and the freezer,” said Michael. “My mobile phone’s playing up at the moment, so you won’t be able to call me, but I’ll call you every evening to make sure you’re doing okay.”

“That’s not necessary,” Alison assured him. “I’ll be fine. Now go on, and don’t worry about me.”
“It’s my job to worry about you,” he responded. “I’ll call you tonight at least, just in case you think of anything you need to tell me or ask me.”

“Okay. Bye then.”

“Cheerio.”

She waved to him as he drove out of the driveway and headed off down the road. Then she turned, pulled out her keys, and entered the house. Hesitating only for a moment, she ran upstairs and pulled down the loft ladder. She knew where Michael kept his spell book, and she was determined to have another look at it, at the very least.

Ten minutes later she was sitting in front of Michael’s computer with the book, reading through both the spells and their translations that Michael had painstakingly typed up in several Word documents. It made fascinating reading, but she soon found that Michael’s work was unfinished - some of the spells were only partially translated, and some had not been translated at all.

One particular spell caught her eye. It was a cure for constipation. Michael had only translated the first couple of lines, but it was obvious what the spell was designed to do. Although she would never have admitted it to Michael, Alison often suffered from this complaint, and she always hated asking for appropriate medicine over the counter at the chemist. It was too embarrassing for words.

She stared thoughtfully at the spell, saying the strange Old English words to herself in her head. It did not seem very hard, and it was surely a harmless enough spell to begin with. Michael had written “Spell 331: Relief of Constipation. Provides immediate relief, softening stools and causing their rapid, easy expulsion from the bowels.” There was plenty more writing in Old English, but Michael had not seen fit to translate it. Perhaps that was because it was not important enough to warrant translation.

Further reading unearthed some other spells she was keen to try, but the constipation one sounded the simplest and most straightforward. She took the book downstairs and turned the kettle on to boil some water. Michael’s notes at the front of the book explained how spells were to be cast, and she knew that she needed a weak sugar solution in order to cast the spell. She drew a circle on the floor with a felt-tip pen, and waited impatiently for the water to boil. Eventually it did so, and she poured it into a cup and stirred a spoonful of sugar into it. When it had dissolved, she poured it on to the floor in the middle of the circle, and spread the liquid around until it completely covered the circular area. Then she stepped into the circle, and cast the spell…

That evening, while she was watching television, the urge came upon her to go to the loo. Remembering the spell, she excitedly ran up to the bathroom, took off her skirt and panties, and sat down on the toilet. No sooner had she done so than her anus opened up and a long, soft poo slid out of her rectum and splashed into the water. After a series of difficult and painful evacuations over the past month or so, this was a blessed relief. Beaming with pleasure and pride in her successful casting of the spell, Alison wiped herself, flushed, and washed her hands. Returning to Michael’s computer, she continued reading the translations, wondering what other spells she could cast.

Spell 102 caught her eye. According to her brother’s notes, it gave non-living objects limited power of movement, so that they would act in a desired fashion. If the spell was cast on a bowling ball (as Michael’s example described) it would always make a strike, no matter how badly it was thrown. If cast on a pendulum clock, it would never run down or lose time. Apparently the spell had trouble with electrical appliances, but otherwise it was quite powerful, and Alison decided to try it right away.

She returned to the kitchen and made up some more sugar solution. Spreading it around inside the circle, she stepped on to the wet patch of linoleum and recited the spell, concentrating on her wristwatch as she did so. The watch was a gift from her late mother, a beautiful old analogue watch with a tiny knob on the side for winding it up. Alison, used to battery-operated watches from an early age, frequently forgot to wind it up and often had to spend long frustrating minutes winding the hands around to their correct positions once the mechanism had wound down. Perhaps, she thought to herself, this spell would enable the watch to take care of its own maintenance.

It was, of course, impossible to tell whether the spell had worked or not, and would be for some time. But she had high hopes as she ascended the stairs once again to continue reading the spell book. Over the course of the next couple of hours, she found several spells that intrigued her, and she tried one or two of them out. There was one that caused objects (again non-living) to replicate themselves, and she cast this one on the money in her wallet. This, she felt, might well prove extremely useful. She might never have to work for a living!

Another spell set her heart racing as she read it. It was a spell to cause a sentient being to become sexually attracted to you. Excitedly she ran to her room and rummaged through her bag. She soon found what she was looking for: a photo of Vince Lambert, one of the senior boys at her school. She had worshiped him from afar for years, but he had always ignored her. Now, however, things would be different. She took the spell book and the photo downstairs, stood in the middle of the still-wet circle, and read out the spell, concentrating on the photo in front of her.
Satisfied with her work, she put the spell book in the study next to the computer and went back to watching television. The phone rang a few minutes later, and she got up to answer the phone in the hall. It was her brother.

“Hi,” she said. “Oh good… Yes, I’ve had something to eat. Stop worrying! How was your journey? … Oh, really? Bummer! … Well, at least you’ve got there safely… No, everything’s fine here. I have everything I need… Yes I’m sure! Just… No, you don’t need to call me every night… Well that’s all right - if I do need anything, or if there’s some emergency, I can call Aunt Beth… Uh-huh… Actually I was just in the middle of watching Red Dwarf, but it’s okay… All right. Talk to you soon then. Bye.”

She hung up and returned to the settee in the living room. At about ten o’clock she felt like she needed to go to the toilet again, so she climbed the stairs and entered the bathroom. Sitting down, she strained and was somewhat surprised when a soft poo, even longer than the earlier one, slid easily out of her anus and dropped into the water below. She got up and glanced down into the bowl, then gasped as she saw it twitch, apparently of its own accord. Eyes wide, she stared at it for a full minute, wondering if it would move again. And then, suddenly, it did. It began to bend in the middle, taking on the rough shape of a banana, and then it flexed itself again.

Alison did not wait for it to move again. She leaped forward and flushed the toilet, sending her poo around the U-bend with all possible speed. She shuddered as she wiped herself. What had that been all about? Was it magic? Had one of her spells somehow affected her poo? It did not seem feasible.
Putting the matter out of her mind, she brushed her teeth and got ready for bed. Putting on a t-shirt and a fresh pair of panties, she climbed between the sheets, then she switched off her light and thought about Vince and how he might behave the next time he saw her. Before long she fell asleep.

Shortly after eleven she woke up with a start. Her bowels felt full again. A cold sweat broke out upon her brow. How was this possible? She had been twice in the last four hours, and had passed copious quantities of faecal matter. What was going on?

She got up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Standing up, she stumbled towards the door, still half-asleep. But then something happened to bring her abruptly to her senses: her panties suddenly filled up with poo.

She squealed in alarm and her hand shot back to cradle her sagging panties. The expulsion had occurred completely without warning, a long soft turd firing out of her anus and curling up around her buttocks. Cursing, she began to waddle towards the bathroom, trying not to lose any of the poo out of the sides of her panties.

But then she stopped in her tracks, stiffening in alarm. The poo was moving! She could definitely feel it writhing about of its own accord inside her underwear. The next second she gasped in horror as she felt her vagina being forced open and her poo snaking its way into her cunt. In a panic she ran to the bathroom, while the rest of her poo continued to slither into her, penetrating her like an immensely long, soft, disgusting brown penis.

She reached the toilet and pulled her panties down quickly. But there was no more poo left in them - just a brown stain and streaky marks. Bending down frantically to look between her legs, she saw the very end of her long poo disappearing inside her vagina. She grabbed at it, but she was too late. Screwing up her face in disgust, she stuck two fingers into her cunt, feeling around for the poo. But whether it felt her coming or because it had a further purpose, it retreated deeper into her body and evaded her questing touch.

Now extremely worried, Alison lay down on the floor in an attempt to get a better angle, and she pushed her fingers as deep inside her cunt as possible. But it was no use - the poo had somehow forced itself into her womb. Alison gave up, and looked down at her abdomen. It was distended, as if she were full of wind or … and here she shuddered at the thought … a couple of months pregnant.

Shakily she got to her feet. What was she to do now? Call for an ambulance? What on Earth would she tell them? She pulled some toilet paper from the roll fixed to the wall, and painstakingly wiped herself clean. Maybe, she thought to herself, the poo would come out by itself. At any rate there did not seem to be much she could do about it at the moment.

She returned to her bedroom, put on a clean pair of panties, and lay down, though she knew she would not be able to sleep. She fancied she could feel something stirring inside her belly, but the sensation was brief and she decided after a minute that she had probably imagined it. She pulled the covers up to her neck and huddled under them, hoping her brother would call again soon.

An hour later she awoke suddenly. Something was wrong. She felt … full. A great pressure was building up in her abdomen. She quickly reached over and turned her bedside light on, then threw back the covers. She screamed in terror as she saw that her belly had swelled up like a balloon - she looked nine months pregnant. And whatever was inside her was moving, and pushing outwards. Involuntarily Alison spread her legs apart, preparing to give birth, but then she realised she was still wearing her panties. She reached down to try to remove them, but it was difficult to negotiate her vast bulge. And no sooner had she grabbed hold of them than a massive contraction hit her and she cried out in pain.

She strained hard, spreading her legs and trying to breathe like women did in hospital dramas when they were giving birth. She felt her vaginal opening dilate as her monstrous cargo fought to escape from her body. Raising her legs after the contraction had subsided, she finally managed to pull her panties off, and she tossed them on to the floor. Then another contraction hit, and she felt as if her groin was on fire as a huge round object forced its way through her orifice. For an instant she was stretched wider than she would have thought possible, and then suddenly the object was through, and she sank back on to her pillow, exhausted.

But more was to come. She could feel that the object was still half inside her and half outside, and she raised herself up on to her elbows to see what exactly it was. From the vile smell of excrement, she knew what it was made of, but she was shocked at the truly awful sight that met her eyes.

She was looking at the head of a baby. At the sight she screamed with horror, then strained for all she was worth to get the rest of the hideous creature out of her body. With a wet, slithering sound, it emerged completely: an infant apparently made entirely out of poo, rather thinner than a human baby, but considerably longer. Its head, mercifully, was quite small, otherwise she would surely have been split open as it came out.

The creature kicked its arms and legs feebly as Alison watched it in horror. Then a sudden resolve came upon her, and she grabbed hold of it and got up off the bed. It struggled in her hands, and her fingers sank into its flesh which, she discovered, was no more and no less than pure poo. She shuddered and rushed through to the bathroom, where she deposited the disgusting thing in the toilet. Then she flushed.
The baby was far too big to be flushed, however, and it was also none too keen on Alison’s plan. Here it proved itself rather more precocious than a human baby, for it pulled itself upright and began climbing out of the bowl even as the flushing water poured over it. Alison backed away, horrified, as it turned beady little brown-within-brown eyes upon her. Then it smiled slowly, revealing a wide, toothless mouth in which lolled what could only be described as a tongue.

Alison fled, hurrying back to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her. She threw herself on her bed, sobbing, wondering how she was ever going to get herself out of this mess. It was all the fault of the spells she had cast, she had no doubt of that, though she had no idea how or why they had gone wrong.

And then she realised that her bowels were full again. She badly needed to poo, but the thought of going back to the bathroom to face that … thing … it was too awful a concept for words. But her dilemma soon became academic - a long, slender poo slithered out of her anus without warning and then immediately itself turned around, its rounded front end seeking her cunt.

But Alison was too quick. In a flash she had rolled over and jumped off the bed, whereupon she ran for the door as if terrified that her poo would try to come after her. Opening it, she hurried through, only to trip over the nightmarish creature to which she had given birth just a few minutes ago. She fell to the floor, hitting her head on a large, ceramic plant pot which contained a three-year-old yucca. Dazed, she rolled over on to her back, then gasped as she saw that her faecal offspring had apparently grown larger since she had last seen it. It was almost three feet tall, and it was standing upright with the confidence of a human child of the same height.

Without a sound, it pounced upon Alison, landing on her stomach and leaving brown smears of poo all over her flesh where the t-shirt had ridden up to expose her midriff. It reached for her face with two chubby brown arms, and she grabbed hold of its wrists with her hands. Its flesh was soft and her fingers sank into the poo, but although she squeezed as hard as she could, she could not break or sever the horrible infant’s limbs. A centimetre or two beneath the squishy excremental epidermis lay a tough skeletal framework of highly compressed poo, and this effectively held the abominable creature together in one piece.

She wrestled with it for a few seconds, then cried out in alarm and clamped her legs together as she felt something probe between the lips of her pussy. With a sinking heart and a churning stomach she felt her vaginal opening widen as her most recent poo slid smoothly into her cunt. Summoning all her strength she rolled over on to her side, hurling the poo-child down the stairs. Then she scrabbled at her pussy, inserting her fingers into her cunt, but once again it was too late - the turd was entrenched deep within her body.

This was the last straw. She just had to do something. Perhaps there was a spell for this type of emergency. She got to her feet and dashed into the study, slamming the door behind her.

As she reached out to switch the computer on, she realised that her hands were covered in poo. Indeed, so were her arms, her inner thighs, her shins, and most of her front. She took off her t-shirt and wiped herself down thoroughly, managing to get herself pretty clean within a minute or two. She tossed the t-shirt in a corner - it was now disgustingly filthy.

She switched on the computer and waited impatiently for Windows to load up. She forced herself to relax, to calm down, while she opened the spell book and flicked through it idly. She could understand hardly anything without her brother’s computerised notes, but it was at least something to do.
The hard drive finally stopped whirring, and she loaded up the spell translations document. Poring through it, she searched for some reference to reversing the effects of spells, but after half an hour of reading she began to despair of finding such a thing.

And then the door handle began to turn. Paralysed with fear, Alison watched as it rotated through ninety degrees, whereupon the door started to open, pushed from without. Alison leapt to her feet and charged against the door, shutting it again and holding the handle firmly in place. It tried to turn underneath her fingers, but her grip was tight and she successfully resisted the attempt.

But how long could she stay here? She realised she needed something to brace the door with, and cast her eyes about the room. There did not seem to be anything that would serve the purpose, but then, what was the point in barricading herself in here? There was no phone in this room, unfortunately, so she could not even call for the emergency services.

Her gaze lit upon her stomach, and a cold sweat broke out upon her brow as she noticed her abdomen was bulging as if she were five or six months along. This was no good - in another half-hour she would be giving birth to another poo-baby, and then what would she do?

Leaning over as far as she could without letting go of the door handle, she turned the computer monitor so that it was facing her. Pulling the keyboard towards her, she managed to reach the Page Up and Page Down keys, which she used to continue searching through the document.

Twenty minutes later, something that sounded pretty large was hurling itself against the study door with a loud THUD, THUD sound. The handle quickly turned beneath her grasp and she yelped, but she managed to keep it under her control. Continuing through the translations, she suddenly came across what she was looking for: a cancellation spell. Reading through it carefully, she worked out what she needed to do and memorised the strange Old English words.

Now it was time to make a dash for the kitchen. She took a deep breath, then pulled open the study door and ran out on to the landing, straight into the waiting arms of her hour-old poo-child, which was now more than six feet tall and built like a heavyweight boxer. She screamed as it wrapped its arms around her, pulling her against its foul, squishy body. Her naked breasts pressed into its stomach, sinking deep into the soft poo. Her pregnant bulge did likewise, then slid up the creature’s torso as it lifted Alison bodily off the ground.

She screamed again and began kicking at it, but although her toes sank a couple of inches into the monster’s legs with each blow, it did not appear to feel any pain. It carried her through into her bedroom and threw her down on to her bed. Before she had time to roll out from under it, it had lowered itself on top of her, pinning her down so she could not move. In the illumination of her bedside light, she watched in horror as its moist, knobbly, evil-smelling face approached hers with a sickening inevitability. Its mouth opened and a long, brown tongue snaked out, seeking her lips.

Eyes wide with terror, Alison kept her lips firmly shut, but the creature’s tongue merely began to lick all over her face, coating her cheeks, nose, forehead, chin and eyelids with sticky wet poo. In doing so, perhaps inadvertently, it pushed some poo up into both of her nostrils, so that she could not breathe. She was forced to open her mouth to take a gulp of air, and in that moment the disgusting long tongue of poo slid into her mouth and began to wrestle with her own tongue in a vile French kiss.
She exhaled sharply through her nose, blasting her nostrils free of poo, and began to hyperventilate as her brain refused to acknowledge what was happening to her. She felt the monster’s tongue probe the back of her throat, causing her to gag, but she managed to hold her supper down as the immensely long tongue snaked down her oesophagus towards her stomach.

A moment later she experienced her first contraction. The creature apparently felt it, too, for it withdrew its tongue and got up on to its knees, straddling her. Alison tried to get up, but it dispassionately shoved her back down. Turning around so that it had its back to her face, it sat heavily on her chest and bent down to have a look at her pussy. It pulled her legs apart, and Alison beat upon its lower back with her fists, to no avail
.
Another contraction came, and she began to strain to force the new poo-baby out. The huge monster sitting astride her began to massage her pussy, sliding its squishy hands up and down over her clit and labia. This caused her to shudder with revulsion, but it seemed to help a little with the pain.

With the next contraction the new poo-baby emerged, inch by inch, until the adult monster could get hold of it. The huge creature pulled it out and turned around with a great beam upon its brown face, showing Alison the little version of itself that she had just given birth to. She turned away, tears pouring down her cheeks.

The monster set the infant down on the bed next to him, then it lay back down on top of Alison, who was still on her back with her legs spread. She was trying to ignore what was happening, to think of something else, but this became impossible when she felt something new enter her abused vagina. Looking up with a shocked expression into the smiling face of the adult creature on top of her, she realised it had just inserted a large, faecal penis into her. It began to thrust, pumping its hard member in and out of her cunt, while its open mouth drooled liquid poo on to her face. She turned her face to one side and spat in disgust.

As the disgusting beast fucked her with what was in fact simply a very firm poo, Alison tried to work out what had gone wrong with her spells. The first one she had cast, she recalled, had been to relieve her constipation. This had apparently worked. So what had gone wrong? Were these ghastly events all side-effects of that spell? It seemed hard to believe.

The second spell had been supposed to grant her wristwatch the ability to move of its own accord. Had this one, perhaps, backfired? Had the spell been cast not on her watch but on the poo inside her? But why should this be the case? Alison had no idea about this, but it was looking likely that this is what had happened.

Another of her spells caused objects to replicate themselves. Again, this fit the profile. Yet another spell, cast on the photo of her beloved Vince, was supposed to make him lust after her. And again, this spell had apparently been cast on her poo. But why? What had she done wrong?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden increase in the pace of the monster’s thrusting. Its body trembled and its hands gripped her shoulders tightly. She felt a surge of warm diarrhoea flood up into her cunt and, though she did not know it, into her womb, where a dozen or so tiny new poo-embryos began to grow at an exponential rate.

The monster had now grabbed her wrists and pushed them up to the headboard, where Alison’s second poo-child was waiting with a pair of her stockings. It began to inexpertly tie her left wrist to one of the vertical wooden bars, and Alison, once she realised this, began to struggle with renewed vigour. The adult monster held her fast, however, and within ten minutes the task was complete: Alison was securely tied and would not be able to free herself without help. And help was a very long way away.

The adult monster, now a good seven feet in height, pushed Alison’s knees up against her chest and began to shove its penis, which had recovered its hardness, into her anus. She cried out in pain and horror, but there was nothing she could do, and soon the monster’s penis was buried deep inside her, thrusting back and forth and seemingly growing larger all the time.

For a good half hour the monster fucked Alison’s rectum, and she could do nothing but watch helplessly while her second child grew larger and larger. By the time the adult had pumped a couple of pints of diarrhoea into her bowels, the child was approaching four feet in height and its erect penis was obviously troubling it. As soon as its big brother pulled out of Alison’s anus amid a torrent of liquid poo, it positioned itself between her legs and hammered its erection into her cunt. As Alison glanced down to look at it despite herself, she noticed with a numb feeling of self-loathing that her belly was back to its maximum bulging size.

But it did not stop there, and she was far from ready to give birth. As Offspring Number Two had its way with her over the next fifteen minutes, Alison’s belly grew to unheard-of proportions, exceeding football-size, then basketball-size, and finally approaching beachball-size as her faecal rapist shot his load into her. She felt certain she must be about to explode, when her first contraction suddenly hit and she began to strain hard in an attempt to give birth.

Over the next half hour, she gave birth to one after another of her first poo-child’s own children, popping one out every minute or so. By the time she had finished, her second offspring was as large as the first, and the first of the new batch was already half-grown and ready for its first fuck, which the adults generously allowed it.

And now her bowels were full again, and a two-foot-long snake of a poo slithered out of her anus. She was completely unable to prevent it from entering her cunt, and so it took up residence within her womb alongside the growing embryos of her second child.

From then on Alison was being screwed constantly by a never-ending succession of poo monsters. An hour later, her room was so crowded that some of the monsters had to go out and wait on the landing for their turn. By that time she was also giving birth again, to a whole new batch. Frustrated that they could not screw her while she was giving birth, several of the adults stood around her and masturbated until they showered her body with copious quantities of diarrhoea. Her hair was soaked in the stuff, her body covered in it, and still she was popping out more baby monsters who would soon add to her torment. She wanted to die.

At five-thirty in the morning, when she had just given birth to her forty-ninth poo-child - the last of the latest batch - an exhausted Alison was surprised to find her hands being untied. She sat up and began to rub her wrists, but powerful arms told hold of her and she was lifted and carried out of the room. Cradled in the arms of a seven-foot poo monster, she was as helpless as ever, but she struggled nonetheless as she was taken downstairs to the front door, which was being held open by one of the monsters.

It was light outside by now, but still quiet. A cool breeze caressed Alison’s naked body as she was taken outside and around to the back of the house. Seizing her chance to attract the attention of her huge-breasted next-door neighbour, Karen, she opened her mouth and screamed, but a quick slap of a squishy brown hand over her mouth silenced her.

She was passed over the fence to a waiting monster, who then held her impaled her on his penis and fucked her while, one by one, all the monsters climbed over the fence. Seeing the filthy mess they were all leaving behind them, Alison was cheered by the thought that at least her brother would be able to track her, if she remained a captive until he got back. Then, once the awful beast holding her had filled her womb with more diarrhoea, she was carted off again, and it seemed the monsters were heading for the farmland at the edge of the town. This worried Alison - if the creatures managed to get her out into the countryside, it would be much easier for them to remain undetected, and to keep hold of her. She could not allow that to happen.

Five minutes later, as she was being passed over a brick wall, Alison judged she now had as good an opportunity for escape as she was likely to get. She kicked desperately and managed to free her leg just as the monster behind her let go of her arms. Now straddling the brick wall, she jumped up and started running along it, overjoyed to be free yet terribly fearful of being recaptured. She dropped down into a well-tended garden, stumbled, then recovered herself and continued running. A couple of thuds behind her told her that her pursuers were not far away.

Increasing her pace to a sprint, the naked, poo-covered girl vaulted a wooden gate and dashed out into the road, where she turned and ran for her life. A glance behind her confirmed her fears - the nearest monsters were less than twenty yards away and gaining on her, leaving messy brown footprints as they ran.

She ducked suddenly into a narrow alley, hoping to find a ladder that she could climb - she fancied she was probably more agile than they, and decided her best chance of escaping would be to choose routes that the monsters would find difficult, given their rather unique anatomical characteristics.

But the alley contained no ladders that she could see, only a number of doorways that she dared not try for fear they should lead into rooms with no other exits. On her left she spotted another alley, and she darted into it, hoping the monsters had not yet turned the last corner and would now lose her.

The alley, however, proved to be a dead end, and her heart sank. But then she noticed a manhole cover set into the concrete floor, and she quickly ran over to it and struggled to pull it open. It was heavy, but she managed to lift it and push it to one side of the hole. Peering down, she saw a ladder that led downward into the darkness. She swung her legs into the manhole and began to descend.

As her head reached the level of the ground, she tried to grab the manhole cover and pull it across the hole. But at that moment she heard the wet thudding of the monsters’ feet, and saw them charging down the alley towards her. With a shriek, she abandoned the cover and quickly climbed down the ladder until she reached the bottom, twenty feet or so below. She found herself in cold, ankle-deep water, but it was so dark she could not see what kind of tunnel she was in or where the exits led.

Feeling around with her hands, she began to blunder blindly along the tunnel, wishing she had a torch. The squeaks of rats sent a chill running down her spine, but she bravely continued as quickly as she could. Splashing sounds behind her indicated that the monsters were still following, and she started running more quickly even though she knew she might at any moment hit something hard that would give her a nasty injury at this speed.
A step downwards caused her to trip and fall, but she splashed into the shallow water without any harm. Getting up, she realised she was at a junction, and turned left. Feeling along the wall for a ladder, she ran a little more cautiously, until she came to a point where the wall seemed to stop.

Further tactile investigation revealed she had come to an alcove in the wall, and this gave her an idea. Squeezing herself into the alcove, she kept very still in the hope that the creatures would pass by and not notice her. Hardly daring to breathe, she tried to ignore the rats running over her feet. One of them gave her ankle a nip and she fought down a yelp, then kicked the animal out into the tunnel. Placing her hands on her belly, she realised she was extremely pregnant again.

Then the first of the monsters came running past, closely followed by several others. After a short interval, some more arrived, jogging more slowly, and behind these were others that were walking, feeling their way along the walls. Alison, crouching down in her hiding place, prayed that she would not be discovered.

And, somehow, she was not. When she judged that about fifty monsters had passed by her, she tiptoed out of her alcove and began to retrace her steps. This proved to be difficult. Her belly was now bigger than a basketball and extremely heavy - she could manage only a slow walking pace and had to stop and rest every few minutes. All the time, of course, she was getting even bigger, and fifteen minutes later, at which point she judged she was truly lost, she sank to the floor under the weight of a beachball-sized bulge.

A contraction came upon her and she cried out involuntarily. A moment later the first poo-baby of the new brood began to emerge. She lay on her back and feebly tried to ward off the rats that scrambled over her body, nipping at her breasts, her arms, her legs and her torso, while she strained to expel the grotesque life-forms she had created.

Twenty minutes later, when the forty-nine adult poo monsters found her, she was still giving birth. In their tiny little minds they rejoiced. They had found their mother-goddess, and she in turn had found them a new home, one in which they were unlikely to be discovered, where they could hide out and multiply, filling the vast city sewer system with hundreds of their kind, all born to this beautiful woman who lay before them. Once she had finished giving birth to the latest brood, all fifty adults would take it in turns to fuck both her cunt and her anus, and after that, the new arrivals would be big enough to do the same. And by then this wonderful woman would be ready to give birth again. And again. And again…

The alarm didn’t go off. By the time I awoke, it was nearly nine o’clock. If I pushed it, I could still get to my office by 9:30. I just started this new job the week before, so I was still on “probation.” And my new boss, Kevin Blake, who looked more like he belonged in Calvin Klein underwear ads than behind a corporate desk, seemed to be paying an awful lot of attention to me. I didn’t want to be late.

I dressed in a flash and tore out of the house, hoping that my morning breath would dissipate before I got to work. My BMW convertible got me through the traffic and into the parking garage in record time. Then, fate opened a parking spot on the first level, right by the elevators. It was going to be a good day after all.

I entered the elevator and punched twenty-six, the floor where my new firm SkyHi Technology had its offices. Expecting an express ride up, I was surprised when the elevator stopped on the first floor. The doors opened, and in stepped Kevin Blake.

“Good morning, Mr. Blake,” I greeted.

“Good morning, Tom,” he replied.

The doors closed as he stepped back and leaned against the back wall beside me. We both gripped our briefcases at our side; neither of us spoke.

Suddenly, there was a thump, and the car lurched to a halt. The lighted floor numbers glowed between the 20th and the 21st floors. Mr Blake opened the communications box and put the emergency phone to his ear.

“Yes, I see. So how long…? Well, please try and hurry,” he spoke into the phone. Then he turned to me. “They don’t know how long this will take, they called a representative of the elevator company, but they don’t know how long it will take for him to arrive. I guess we need to make ourselves comfortable.”

We set our briefcases down and began to chit-chat. We talked about my recent relocation. I was surprised to learn that he grew up in a small town less than fifty miles from me, in rural Wyoming. That opened the door for a lot of reminiscing about our common roots.

Suddenly, I felt a rumbling in my gut. I’ve always been an “every other day” shitter, and yesterday was supposed to be my day. However, I had such a busy schedule that I hadn’t ever made it to the bathroom. Then, last night I’d been so tired that I fell asleep without even pissing. The way the morning started out, I had no time for toiletries, so I figured I’d take a break as soon as I checked in at my desk. Now this.

I tried to concentrate on our conversation, but the pressure on my asshole grew increasingly difficult to ignore. The words began to blur together, and I stopped being sure of what either of us was saying. I could feel my face redden as I tried to hold three days’ worth of shit back. I fidgeted from foot to foot, but nothing relieved the pressure.

The it happened. Silently, but with the force of a bulldozer, a log of shit as wide as a beer can and as long as a freight train passed from my rectum to my Jockeys. I feared that my humiliation would be completed by a torrential flood of piss, but the pressure of the building pile of shit against my balls caused my cock to swell within the tightening confines of my shorts and I haven’t been able to piss with a hard on since I was twelve.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Blake’s voice cut through my trance.

“I’m fine,” I replied even as more shit coursed its way out of my ass and into my underwear.

The odor finally made its way to my nostrils. I looked into my boss’s face for signs that he, too, smelled the pile that now caused my pants to bulge, but saw nothing.

The elevator suddenly lunged upward and then slowed to another stop at the 26th floor. The doors began to open; I intended to race to the men’s room to clean up. Mr. Blake’s hand touched my shoulder.

“Come with me to my office, Tom,” he said, gently but firmly guiding me away from the bathroom.

“I’ll join you in a second,” I said, trying to turn away.

“Now,” he stated.

“I don’t want to be disturbed,” he said to his secretary as we passed her desk. We passed through the open door to his office, and he shut the door. Before I could react, his hand left my shoulder and grabbed my buttock.

“Well, well. What have we here?” he smirked as his hand found the still-warm mound.

“I… errrrr” I stammered. It was then, as I lowered my eyes in shame, that I saw the tent in the front of Mr. Blake’s pants. My shit was turning him on.

“I shit my pants,” I said.

“So I see. Mind if I join you?”

The sound of a fart cut the silence; I gripped his ass with both my hands. As he groaned I could feel the pile build at his backside. We stood, cock to cock as he finished emptying his bowels.

“Let’s go in here,” he said, leading me to what turned out to be a private gym. He took off his coat and draped it over the bar of a free weight. Then, he kicked out of his shoes.

“Well, are you going to join me?” he asked as he loosened his tie.

I followed his lead, removing my outer wear in moments. We stood, facing each other in just our socks and shit-filled underwear. He reached for me and drew me into a tight embrace. Our lips met, and our cocks ground against one another. As we kissed, his hand snaked its way to my ass; his fingers lifted the leg elastic of my Jockeys. He brought out two dime-sized marbles of my shit.

“Tootsie Rolls, only better for you,” he laughed. “Less sugar!”

He popped one of the turds into his mouth and offered the other to me. Though I had never imagined eating shit before, at that moment nothing seemed more natural. I rolled it over my tongue, exploring the texture while allowing my taste buds to gradually acquaint themselves with the slightly bitter flavor.

“Lay over here,” his voice brought me back to the room.

I laid down on a weight bench. He straddled my chest with his ass near my face, the brown stain obvious for the first time. He struggled to free my nine inch, uncut cock from the fly of my shorts without disturbing the massive mound that stretched them tight. Once free, his lips encircled the shaft, and he lowered his head until his jaw touched my pubic bone.

With my cock deep in his throat, he lowered his ass to my face. My nose pressed into his shit, protected only by the thin layer of cotton brief. Shit oozed out under the leg bands, which he proceeded to smear all over my face.

“I need to be fucked,” he said, abandoning my cock for a moment. He jumped up and turned around. He pulled aside the leg of his shorts and sat on my erection. It easily slid through the clinging shit and into his empty hole. He literally threw himself up and down on my cock.

“Fuck me. Fuck my shitty ass!” he screamed.

I couldn’t hold out long. Orgasm began at my toes and surged up to my cock.

“Aaaaaagggggggghhhhhhhh!!!” I cried, as I began to pump jism into his filthy ass.

“I’m cumming,” he cried. Semen shot from his cock and flooded my chest, even though his cock remained untouched and encased in his underwear.

With my cock still buried in his asshole, he collapsed on my chest. As my erection abated, my violent urge to piss returned.

“I gotta piss, man. Let me up,” I implored.

He didn’t move. Nature kept me from arguing for long. With my now-deflated cock buried in his ass, I filled my boss with a gallon of near-boiling urine. Once the flow finally stopped, he sat up.

“Mr. Blake…”

“I think it’s time you started calling me Kevin, don’t you?” he asked. “Clean up in here and then come into the bathroom for a shower. When that’s through, you can go and clean out your desk…”

“Wha…?” I gasped.

.”.. And move your things in here. After all, you are my new personal assistant,” he winked. “Very personal.”