Doodle Story: Shitters in the Outfield
So, here's another doodle story. Two canines with bowel desperation try to find a bathroom.....well, anyone who knows me will know it'll end with scat.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Doodle Story: Shitters in the Outfield
Thinking back on it, they knew they shouldn't have eaten all those tacos down at that Mexican restaurant. They knew they shouldn't have eaten all those buffalo wings. They knew they shouldn't have eaten all that chili at Wendy's. All in all, they shouldn't have eaten all that food at six different restaurants. More importantly, they probably should've used the bathroom before heading out onto the road. If they had, then Lars and his friend Shelley wouldn't be suffering from severe bowel desperation right now. Both of them were rumored to be in some sort of biker gang, and many assumed that the brown Doberman was the grey German Shepard's boyfriend. Lars wore a red leather jacket and black jeans while his friend Shelley wore a blue leather jacket and black jeans. Both of them were kind of chubby and liked to binge on various occasions, solely so they could enjoy the time they had excreting all the waste back out a few hours later. Both of them secretly had fetishes for scat and watersports, and would gladly enjoy the lustful and calming sensation of defecating or urinating all over the place. It even got to a point where Shelley would finger herself in the bathroom while she was taking a shit. But right now she wasn't doing that. Right now she was hastily running around town alongside her partner Lars trying to find a decent latrine to use. While Shelley seemed to be handling her bowel desperation okay, Lars was refraining from grasping his ass cheeks and doing the potty dance. He walked over to Shelley once they stopped walking and groaned as he let out a humongous wet fart, just in time for someone to walk by. The wayward pedestrian groaned loudly and held his nose before walking away, mumbling something in disgust.
"I-I can't hold it any longer, Shelley!" said Lars in frustration.
"Just...just try not to think about a water faucet leaking or a waterfall or a water hose and you'll be...okay."
Lars grunted before hearing another nasty fart, but was surprised to hear that this one actually came from Shelley's stinky hindquarters. She tried not to blush, but couldn't help it when a couple walked by and heard, as well as smelled, the flatulence she let out. Lars and Shelley whimpered and started jogging across the street, ignoring some of the oncoming traffic once they saw two outhouses stationed near a construction site. They sighed with relief-Lars let out another giant fart in the process-before rushing over to the shitters. Unfortunately, two male construction workers had to use the bathrooms more than they had to, and ran inside before locking the doors, sitting down with their pants pulled down, and releasing massive turds that could be heard from outside. Lars and Shelley groaned loudly and held their stomach before Shelley glanced over to see that Lars had wet himself a little, the small stain noticeable on his black pants.
"SHIT!! Shelley, we have to find a bathroom now!"
"I know-I can't hold it in either!"
Lars examined his surroundings, looking for something they could use to shield themselves from the public as they defecated, but all they saw were a pair of trash cans resting on the sidewalk. Nevertheless, they had nothing else to use, so they had no problem running over and squatting behind (or even inside) the cans. The only problem was that the second they began to waltz over to the trash bins, a wayward canine-judging by the looks of him, a homeless furry-stormed over to the cans and knocked them over, scouring them for half-eaten scraps. Lars and Shelley sighed exasperatedly and held their stomachs before heading over to find another latrine...to no avail. Shelley even bent over a bit and began to let out a large turd, but quickly clenched her ass cheeks shut so she wouldn't soil herself. Lars on the other hand wasn't doing so well. He wet himself again and whined like a puppy while holding his crotch, desperately trying to clamps his bladder shut. They were slowly running out of option, running out of time. Any second now, their bowels would cut and they'd go all over themselves until they black jeans were suddenly brown.
"Fuck it-let's just go inside that manhole!" said Lars, pointing towards an open manhole cover.
As they ran over to the open manhole, someone backed up their dump truck so that it was covering the hole perfectly, eliminating anyone's chances of climbing, let alone, defecating inside of it. Lars and Shelley thought about asking the driver for his keys in hopes that he would be nice enough to let them move the vehicle, but he got outside, locked the door, then tossed the keys inside before closing the door. This way, if anyone robbed him, at least no one could steal any of the dump trucks, which had bulletproof windows and impressive doors that could only be opened with a key, all of which were hidden inside the foreman's trailer. Lars and Shelley didn't have time to ransack the trailer, so they merely whimpered loudly again as their bellies grumbled and they simultaneously passed gas, the Doberman practically sharting himself in the process. With no other option, Lars and Shelley ran over to an abandoned baseball field, which was completely barren and lifeless. It was the perfect place for them to shit at, and anyone who found the mess would simply think it was a wayward dog or cat who shat on the field.
"Okay...okay, we're almost home, Lars. Just a few more steps and-"
Lars whined loudly and held his groin while nervously hopping up and down. He was so close too, standing behind a set of dusty bleachers, no one around except for Shelley and a couple of flies buzzing around. The Doberman raised his tail and let out a disgusting, hot fart before bending over and assuming the position to poop himself. He could feel a log coming out, ready to make contact with his undies.
"Hold it in, Lars! Hold it in!"
"I...CAN'T!" he shouted.
And with that, his paws suddenly became warm and he looked down to see that he was urinating in his trousers. Lars closed his eyes and grunted, trying to cease the flow of urine by grabbing his groin even harder this time around, but still, nothing worked. The Doberman whined again and heard rambunctious flatulence from behind and noticed that his trousers were slowly beginning to bulge outwards in the seat of his pants. Shelley could smell the feces through the fabric and walked behind Lars, noticing the bulge and small brown stain. The Doberman let go of his crotch, seeing as how stopping himself from urinating and shitting in his pants was futile, and let himself go. Shelley backed away once she heard a series of wet farts and grotesque squishing and saw his pants bulge outwards even more, a combination of black and brown mixing together. Lars could feel the pain in his bowels going away, but he suddenly felt embarrassed that he was soiling himself in front of his friend, let alone in public. The Doberman stopped shitting for a brief moment and farted loudly for five seconds before Shelley could see his pants growing darker. She heard him urinating heavily; there was so much piss in his trousers that some of the urine was trickling down to the ground and on his footpaws. Lars whined loudly again and let out two squishy farts before he groaned loudly and squatted towards the sand, shitting himself beyond belief. Lars let out four massive turds that coiled around in his underwear into a large, stinky mound of feces. Shelley took a step back and plugged her nose, marveled that her friend could create such a wild stink in a matter of seconds. Lucky for Lars, he didn't have a bad case of diarrhea, so all the shit merely piled up inside his undies and didn't ruin them immensely. Of course, all the sterile fluids that were dripping down his legs said a different story. His urine smelled very strong for a Doberman of his caliber, like a band of hyenas who thought it'd be funny to pee all over the floor of a restroom because they were too damn lazy to go in the urinals. Lars was just lucky that no one had seen him go all over his pants and that they weren't trapped inside an elevator with dozens of furries around him. All of them surely would've gotten sick from the stench. Shelley obviously didn't care, being a fan of scat and pee, and being around Lars several times before when he had taken a shit. The Doberman exhaled after excreting all the piss and shit and let out an airy, but malodorous, burst of wind from his anus. He stood back up and looked down at his pants, still embarrassed over everything that happened.
"Goddamnit!" shouted Lars with frustration.
"Relax, Lars. It's not like anyone saw you taking a shit in your pants. ...Except me." said Shelley.
"But these are my good fucking pants! ...And it's embarrassing, Shelley! I just crapped myself in public..."
Knowing that her friend seemed to be down and was probably on the verge of crying soon, she figured it only is fair to make him feel better and confess to him about her secret fetishes.
"To be honest, I kind of like it when furries do that."
"What, shit themselves?!"
Shelley chuckled. "No, just taking a huge shit or urinating all over the place."
"...Seriously?"
"Yes. Why do you think I have no problem shitting beside you behind a bush?"
"That's true."
Shelley giggled and patted Lars on the head. "If it makes you feel better, I'll go in my pants too. Then we can both walk around together stinky and happy!"
Lars suddenly smiled and shook his tail in agreement. "I'd like that."
Shelley turned so Lars could see her on the right side of her body before she hiked up her leg like a common dog about to mark his territory before grunting and letting out a fierce gas bubble, which was shockingly louder and smellier than Lars's. The German Shepard passed gas for about ten seconds before the flatulence became runny and wet, then quickly turned into squishing. Shelley sighed with relief before squatting while placing her paws on her knees. The next thing Lars knew, Shelley was shitting rapidly into her panties, making her pants bulge outwards as fast as he did. She released a couple of small balls at first, making sure not to let it all out on one go, before grunting again with her eyes shut and sharting into her pants like crazy. She already smelled so foul that Lars had to back away and plug his nose, although a part of him was enjoying the woman planting excrement in her trousers. She was much more nonchalant about it than he was, acting like she had done this dozens of times before in her adolescent years. Even though she was wearing black, Lars could easily identify the shit stain on her pants, and it was growing more and more as time flew by. Shelley grunted again and dumped out three massive turds before passing another long series of wet flatulence, which almost felt and smelled like diarrhea. She stopped pooping for a short time and spread her legs a little, sighing loudly once she began to urinate herself. She enjoyed how warm it felt running down her furry legs, dripping down onto the ground and some of her toes. Lars was amazed by it all too; she was really letting herself go. If her pants weren't muffling the noise, someone would mistake her for being a racehorse who drank too much water. Lucky Lars, it smelled nowhere near as bad as his urine did. But a part of him envied the Shepard, seeing that even with her pants on, she still managed to create a tiny puddle underneath her groin and footpaws. The flatulence and shitting quickly resumed, and Lars saw Shelley's pants bulge in the blink of an eye. It was this huge mound of excrement that could bury a mouse alive if Shelley had bothered to shit on the ground. And she was still going, lifting her tail so she could squeeze out another giant ball about the size of her fist. She squatted down a little more with her tail still in the air before expelling numerous farts that sounded like bubble wrap, dropping two turds that were so long they coiled around in her undergarments and made her pants bulge so much they looked like they were about to burst right open like a balloon. Lars even felt like looking for something to pop them with so he could see the entire waste plummet and plop to the ground. But he didn't do anything, and merely stared at the defecating canine. Shelley grunted a few more times, releasing the excess amount of flatus and another lump of shit before exhaling with relief and standing back up.
"See? Now you won't be alone, Lars."
"Hmm...we probably should've done this Viletopia. I bet no one would've minded us going there."
"Well, I see you didn't mind watching me go," said Shelley, pointing down at Lars's groin.
The Doberman glanced down at his pants and noticed that he had a considerably lengthy phallus, courtesy of watching Shelley shit and wet herself so well. His brown cheeks began to turn bright red and Lars giggled timidly.
"...No...I guess not."
"It's okay, Lars. You're not the only one. I'm sure there are hundreds of furries and scalies into the things we're into."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
"C'mon. Let's head back to my house and clean up before anyone sees us."
Lars and Shelley began to walk across the barren baseball field, their paws pressing against each other's sloshing pants.
"You know...it's funny, Shelley,"
"What is?"
"I suddenly want other individuals into messy fetishes to know I just shat myself."