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It's Saturday in Viletopia and Arnek the bat has nothing to do. At least, not until someone reminds him it's National Give Me Your Fucking Shit day. Judging by the title, perhaps this story has scat in it?

thedarkwolfzearoth makes a cameo.

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Give Me Your Fucking Shit!

7:43 a.m. Saturday

I woke up this morning, masturbating as usual. I usually never went to sleep wearing clothes for a reason. The first was because I usually woke up and noticed that I had soiled or peed, in some cases, ejaculated into them overnight. The second was because it made it easier to masturbate in the morning. Morning Wood lasted for a while when it came to my family, and we never knew why. Then again, my family didn't care, and we just solved the problem by masturbating. Besides, with the strong odor of cold shit and urine around me, not to mention my stinky bed sheets and mattress, it was rather easy to keep the erection. So all I had to do was grab my dick and go to town. I murred loudly and inhaled the rank odor and started to paw off a little faster, my boner growing long and hard. Hell, I was already beginning to precum and I hadn't even masturbated for 30 seconds. Then again, it wasn't a world record. I still remember the time I came just by grabbing my cock after my friend Casey took a hyper shit in his living room, so this wasn't a shock to me. In fact, I remember on several occasions where I came without even groping my penis. Of course, this wasn't one of those times, but I didn't mind. I liked to enjoy the moment, enjoy the feeling of my greasy hands slowly moving up and down my thick cock, the lustful, dirty thoughts that crept through my mind during the moment. I continued pawing off, panting loudly and letting out high-pitched ecstatic shouts as though I was having sex with Greizzer or Casey...or that walrus. Oh, that burly walrus, with his hairy brown fur, and his fat ass, and his noxious flatus. God, I can still remember the lovely stench of digested meal he ate that day...just leaning over and taking a small whiff of his flatulence once he passed gas while he pissed all over the wall was enough to make me jizz in my trousers. However, I merely made a fool of myself by wetting my trousers in front of him. Ah well, at least later that night he forgave he (kind of) and agreed to meet him some other time. Oh, God...that fucking stinky ass of his!!

...I'm sorry, I'm digressing...again. Anyway, after fixating on the walrus's ass for a few seconds, I screamed and came a helluva lot more than I usually do. The cum shot into the air, nearly touching the ceiling before falling back down and splattering on my bed sheets and the carpet. I exhaled with relief and lifted up a leg to pass gas afterwards. Morning Thunder and Morning Wood were a notorious combination for me. I sighed heavily after passing gas and gritted my teeth as I let out a loud one nearly seven seconds long, reeking of that fish sandwich I ate last night. Judging by the smell of the sandwich, the fish must've been fried in fox urine. Meh, it added a tangy flavor to it. After passing gas and cumming, I got out of bed and placed my feet on the floor, yawning and polluting the air with my foul bat breath. At the time, I realized I still hadn't even used the bathroom yet, so I shrugged and exhaled before looking down at my bladder and letting myself go. The long, yellow stream of urine trickled down my bed and onto the floor, loosening up the piles of excrement I laid a few days ago and making the floor another shade of yellow. It wasn't a long, thick stream of urine, but it did last a long time, and the smell was definitely recognizable. I merely looked down at the stream and smiled, sniffing at the piss and sighing with relief, as though I was cumming again. I wiggled my toes as a small portion of the pee splashed against my feet and sighed again, enjoying the feeling of my warm liquid waste in-between my toes. About twenty or so seconds later, the urine had ceased and I was finished. When I looked at the calendar, I realized something important: it was Saturday, thank God, since I didn't have work. Dave lightened up on me and decided to let me take the weekend off. Damn, I should've slept in that day, had a wet dream and piss on my sheets instead of waking up early just to paw and pass gas. Nevertheless, my day had begun, and the sun was out already, so I woke up. As I stood out of bed, I scratched my chin and began to wonder what to wear that day, or wear anything at all. I liked running and flying around with nothing but my bare necessities, but it had been a while since I messed my gray cargo pants...my special cargo pants that uh... Let's just say, when I wear them, I become incontinent and soil them beyond belief, cumming in my pants to the fullest, and let me tell you that the only thing better than soiling yourself and cumming in privacy, is soiling yourself and cumming and absolutely no one cares. In fact, some furries applaud me. It's almost as good as having sex. ...Okay, so it's nowhere NEAR as good, but it's better than masturbating, and less tiring.

I sighed again and dug through my dresser, putting on a pair of light blue cargo pants instead, with a camouflage design. I bought them only a week ago and they still didn't even smell like my crotch yet, so why not stink 'em up today? After putting the pants on, I grabbed a green shirt with a weird vampire maw on the back of it and put it on. I wasn't sure where I found the shirt but I know it was previously owned by a furry into vore, and probably an actual vampire bat. Lucky me, the owner was either dead or not looking for his shirt, and since I'm a bat myself, I'm sure if he found me, he'd spare me since I'm his "brother" or whatever you call it. I opened my bedroom door and started to walk outside, wondering what Samuel and his mate Roger were doing.

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9:27 a.m.

Samuel was lying next to his smelly rodent Roger, smiling widely as he rubbed his fur. The yellow mouse was masturbating, as always; he had a bit of Morning Wood too. I'm sure he's suffering from something phallic related, but he doesn't seem to care. Could be serious though; I hear you can get erectile dysfunction from excessive masturbating. Ah well, he seems fine so far. Anyway, the smelly tiger looked at his rodent and rolled over to kiss him on the lips, telling him, "Good morning." in a sensual voice afterwards. Roger sighed before his boyfriend bent down and starting kissing him again, stopping for a moment to lick his muzzle and exhale in his face. Roger murred.

"I love your stinky garlic breath."

Samuel chuckled and patted his mate on the cheek a few times.

"Do you now?"

Roger grunted as he pawed and nodded his head, squirting out a little cum.

"Let's take a break from that for a little bit. You must be hungry."

Roger slowly stopped pawing off and nodded his head again.

"Shall we go in the kitchen and go make something?"

"No, no, there's no need for that. Why tire ourselves anyway? I'll just make you breakfast in bed."

Roger blushed and giggled embarrassingly. "Aww, you don't have to do that for me."

"Trust me, you'll enjoy it."

Samuel turned around so his back was turned and put himself in a position where he was on his knees and his ass and taint were lying directly on Roger's stomach. The feline felt his stomach grumble and let out a small fart before he huffed and it suddenly became loud and chaotic, like a sputtering motorboat. It could definitely be heard several yards away (in fact, as I flew over their house, I heard something rumbling from below). Samuel raised his tail and ass a little, before turning his head sideways so it was partially in Roger's view. He grinned widely before he farted again, this time, opening his asshole and pushing it outward to let the assumed projectile inside fall out. Samuel sighed and heard wet squishing as his soft, meaty shit oozed its way out and landed on the rodent's abdomen, making him gasp excitedly and get another boner...not like his previous one left. The shit was coming out very slowly, and it stank greatly; Roger noticed that his boyfriend had his nose plugged. He was enjoying himself though; otherwise he wouldn't have a boner either. Samuel's shit didn't coil around like it normally would've, but instead just plopped on Roger's belly, creating a mound that increased in size, diameter and weight. Some of it was watery, some was chunky, and some was fragile, and easily could be blown away just by exhaling on it. Samuel exhaled after letting out the mound before raising his tail high and intentionally sharting all over the mound, the bed, and Roger's face and neck. Roger blinked a few times before smiling and licking the tiny droplets of shit off his lips. Samuel turned back around and lay on his stomach, staring at the giant pile of shit.

"See? Now wasn't that so much easier and faster than walking all the way downstairs to make a meal?"

Samuel leaned forward and sniffed his creation a few times before recoiling.

"Heh, I think I overdid it on the special sauce though."

"Don't worry honey. I like my breakfast this way."

Roger reached out and grabbed a small blob of shit from his stomach before shoveling it into his mouth, chewing on the brown feces and savoring the flavor. Samuel chuckled and did the same as well, shoving some of his stinky, steamy shit into his mouth. Both of them stared at each other lovingly, chewing the soft material, before they swallowed. As Roger began to get another handful, Samuel leaned forward and let out a disgusting belch in the rodent's face. The mouse inhaled the odor deeply and sighed heavenly.

"Mmm, I can't get enough of that smell!"

Samuel grabbed some more poop and slowly spread it around the inside of Roger's mouth, who did the same to his mate. I have to admit, no matter how much Samuel's garlic breath stinks, and no matter how much that rodent masturbates, they sure as hell know how to make a morning more memorable than mine.

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1: 59 p.m.

"What'll it be today Arnek?"

"Eh, the usual."

"The frankfurter with mustard?"

"Yeah."

I leaned against the hot dog vendor's cart and waited for him to fix the semen soaked hot dog before he got a yellow bottle and squirted the mustard all over the meat.

"Here you go."

"Thanks." I said, paying the vendor a few dollars.

"You seem a little down today."

I bit into the pig-in-a-blanket. "Not exactly. Today's my day off but I can't find anything eventful to do."

"Why don't you hang with Iltach or Greizzer or Casey?"

I took another bite. "That's the weird thing. I actually have no desire to hang out with any of them at the moment. I don't feel like pulling my pants down and pooping as I fly in the air with the gryphons. Hell, I don't even feel like soiling or wetting myself."

The red lion laughed. "That's impossible. How does a Viletopian not desire to soil themselves when they're bored?"

"I know! These are the pants I'm trying to ruin too!"

"They look...clean."

"That's the fuckin' point; I've been trying to ruin them since I bought 'em."

The vendor squatted over the sidewalk and sighed heavily before raising his tail and letting out a giant fart. His knees began to shake a little and he gritted his teeth before he passed some more gas and began to mess his pants. He was wearing a brand new pair of green cargo pants that smelled like he found them from a furry who never washed his feet. I'm sure now they stank like feet and gallons of fecal matter. I sighed heavily.

"See, that's what I'm talking about Nater! A Viletopian like you can just squat and go almost instantly! Me, I gotta eat tons of fiber and build up the shit in my colon or eat a laxative or hope my incontinence flares up out of nowhere!"

Nater responded by sharting all over his trousers with a silly grin on his face, cocking his leg up a little so he could let out another muffled fart and more wet piles of stinky feline shit. The last shart he made sounded like tuba blowing, or an elephant seal and it stank like a regular skoon shot or worse.

"That's cause you try too hard. When you soil yourself, you're supposed to-OH GOD...yeeeaaahhh that feels gooooodddd..." murred Nater as he soiled himself some more.

"Yeah, thanks for showing off again asshole." I said as I finished my hot dog.

Nater giggled childishly and stood up, shuddering a little when he felt some of his feces squirm down the back of his leg and plop to the ground beneath him. The pile of shit that was now sitting at his feet was actually pretty big, and Nater sighed heavily as he wiggled his toes in his own mess, proud of the stinky mound he made in his pants and on the ground. At that moment I envied Nater...of course, my penis said otherwise. If I had gone outside that day naked, I probably would've started pawing furiously.

"Ooh, that feels nice. Are you upset about that walrus again?"

I sighed dejectedly. "Yes."

"Why haven't you met him yet? Didn't you say he works over at uh, Grunge Cineplex making fetish porn videos?"

"Yeah."

"Y'know, I think I've actually seen him on ShitTube before. Oh, God yeah, I still remember. He was naked and his balls were hanging directly in front of the camera, and he moved back a little so we could see his whole body. He smiled leeringly before bending over and wiggling his ass directly in the camera-I mean, like DIRECTLY, in the camera. After that it was just minutes upon minutes of endless flatulence and farts, and he did them all in sexual, perverted positions that usually showed his ass. He farted so loudly one time that a light bulb in the background shattered. Christ, if only I was in the room to smell the stink that furry expelled from his anus. He totally looks like the type of guy who would fuck the shit outta me as he farted loud enough to bend metal. Oh man, that aquatic mammal is so hot!"

Precisely at that moment I gritted my teeth and grunted as I jizzed in my pants, loud enough for Nater to notice.

"Hey you jizzed yourself." he said dumbly.

"I KNOW THAT!!!"

"You must be extremely eager to meet this guy, but I am curious,"

"What?"

"How come you never asked what his name was?"

"Shut up."

"And what makes him different from the rest of the fuck buddies you've made?"

"Trust me, there's something about this guy. I can't explain it, but I feel like he's the right furry for me."

"You said that about Casey."

"Shut up! This guy's different!"

"You said that about Iltach."

"No, it's not the same as them!"

"You said that about Greizzer."

"Nater, you're not fuckin' helping me right now. Any advice you wanna give that might help me find this guy?"

"You should probably go back down to Grunge Cineplex to see if he's there again, or check out The Shitter or Greasy Shits. Besides, today's Give Me Your Fucking Shit day, so all the restaurants are preparing meals that are loaded with scat."

I raised an eyebrow. "Give Me Your Fucking Shit day?"

"Yeah, some furry went on ShitTube and made a video demanding that the public give him more shit because he didn't have enough or something like that. I'm pretty sure it was one of those mock videos some troll made or some guy from YouTube made to get attention, but Mayor Pisselton took it literally and declared today 'National Give Me Your Fucking Shit' day so now all the restaurants serve scat in almost all their meals and the mayor encourages Viletopians to hand out shit when they can."

Nater dug into the back of his pants and pulled out a large, drippy glob of shit.

"Want some?"

"Eh, it's free."

I took his glob of shit and started to chew on the rancid, crunchy (yes, crunchy; I'm not sure what Nater eats, but he obviously doesn't chew his food if I can taste the corn chips in it) waste slowly. It wasn't tasty, in fact it was a little bland, but I was still hungry and that hot dog didn't feel my belly to its utmost capacity.

"Seems a tad bit bland."

"Hey, don't judge the taste of shit, okay? I just push it out my ass; I don't season it and make it so it tastes appealing to all furries. Just be glad it's free."

"Yeah." I said, taking another bite out of it.

"So what are you gonna do for the rest of the day?"

"I don't really know. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Besides hanging out with your friends and shitting yourselves non-stop? Well, there's a gray wolf who's been pissing on that tree for nearly a half-hour; why don't you go chat with him?"

I finished the rest of the feces Nater gave me and licked my fingers and lips clean before looking over at the gray wolf. I saw the guy before right around Christmas. Forgot his name, but I do remember he has a thing for pissing...everywhere. Well, except for a toilet. Damn, I wish his other friends were there though, like that wolf Barter or that skunk Stone Analspray. Nevertheless, the gray wolf was enough, and I had to pee anyway, so I joined him and unzipped my pants before I began to pee on the tree bark.

"Do I know you?"

"Depends. Where you there during the Battle Shits tournament last Christmas?"

"Nah, my friend Stone was though. I'm Zearoth, but the way."

"So you are that guy."

"What guy?"

"I heard about this smelly gray wolf who always went around marking his territory on everything, fences, walls, carpets, hydrants, hotel rooms, inside beer bottles, all that. And if I'm right you've pooped on several unusual objects as well. Didn't you poop inside a bathtub alongside the wrestlers Rad Rhino and Lightning Fox? And inside a vase while you were at Anubis's house? And in a trash can in the same bathroom WereGarurumon and Diego the saber tooth tiger were using? Not to mention I saw you at a wrestling tournament where you and Analspray farted and sprayed skunk and wolf oil on that hyena and German Shepard, and then you pooped inside a bucket."

Zearoth chuckled. "Yeah, I did all of that, not to mention I got a medal and security uniform for stopping burglars from robbing a Target store."

"Wow, you got a uniform just for stopping burglars?"

"No, but I peed all over it and they didn't want it back because it stank too much. I also managed to take a huge dump in the copier machine as well."

"How'd you take down the robbers anyway?"

"Really now, why ask that question when you know of my reputation?"

"So I take it they all left with a shade of brown or yellow."

Zearoth laughed heartily. "You got that right!"

"I'm surprised you don't live here."

"Yeah, I'm not sure my fiancé would appreciate that. Mau isn't fond of scat and watersports like we are, plus I'm not accustomed to some of the things you guys do."

"Like what?"

Zearoth lifted his leg and let out a sharp urinal fart before sighing and wagging his tail.

"Actually eating or bathing in shit."

"That's not what your breath says."

"Not everyone who has bad breath eats shit. I just don't feel like brushing. I do drink my own urine sometimes though."

"It's like beer, but salty and you don't get intoxicated afterwards."

I finished up my urination, letting the remaining drops of piss fall from my penis before I zipped my pants back up and started to walk away, watching the gray wolf cut another foul fart and murr as he resumed pissing on the tree.

"Hey, I'm curious...what's your record for peeing?"

"I can't remember, but there was this one time where a dragon and I pissed so long we nearly flooded the block we were standing on with piss."

"Hmm...you should really come back here sometime and put that skill of yours to use."

"I'll keep that in mind."

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6:29 p.m.

I was still bored at the time, but I managed to find a little excitement by heading over to a local restaurant that was rife with customers of all sorts. Like Nater told me, the place was overcrowded due to it being the special Give Me Your Fucking Shit day and as I anticipated, the place stank of malodorous flatulence and feces. The customers weren't creating a riot, but many of them were a bit impatient, tapping their footpaw up and down rapidly or fidgeting and swishing their tails left and right. Somewhere in the middle of the crowd, I saw Iltach in the back kitchen, walking around and handing out a few orders or making them. I navigated through the crowd and pushed open the kitchen door, entering the kitchen and almost immediately slipping on a pile of shit someone left behind. Alligator shit, if I wasn't mistaken.

"Damnit Arnek, you know you can't be back here when I'm working!" shouted Iltach.

I chuckled and walked over to the burly primate.

"You sound edgy today."

"No, just rushed, and my bowels haven't been quiet since midnight. You know how much fiber I've been eating to prepare for this day? Just this morning I downed eight cans of baked beans."

"That's a bad thing?" I chuckled.

Iltach's stomach grumbled loudly again and he pulled down his cargo pants and squatted on the tiled floor.

"Where's that hot dog bun?"

The alligator whose shit I slipped in ran over to Iltach and placed a hot dog bun underneath his ass. It was weird though, because it had an olive green tint to it, as though it were made of algae or an odd fungus. The gorilla sat on his knees with his heels touching his ass cheeks and scooted the bun right beneath his butthole. I watched as the primate sighed heavily and widened his anal sphincter, letting a lumpy, thick piece of yellow shit come out his ass and land in the center of the hot dog bun. He sighed with relief and scooted the bun backwards a little as he continued to defecate, ultimately filling the green hot dog bun as though his yellow log of dung was an actual frankfurter. In fact, it kind of looked like one if it wasn't smooth or yellow. Although, it didn't smell like one. It smelled like Iltach after he rolls around in acrid but non-lethal acid, and bananas. He exhaled and detached the yellow log before pulling his pants back up and picking up the hot dog.

"Never thought of that before. An actual shit-dog?"

"Yep." said Iltach, handing the hot dog over to the same alligator, who gave it over to the customer.

"So Iltach, you coming with me to Grunge Cineplex?"

"That's why you're here?"

"Yeah, I already asked Greizzer and he said he was coming with me."

"I'm not into being on the set of-where's Order #86? I need Order #86 right now!"

Iltach's stomach growled fiercely and he passed a little gas, desperately trying to clench his butt cheeks together, feeling the greasy diarrhea gradually slide down his legs. The alligator came over with a regular cheeseburger fitted with expired pickles and olives and mustard and a tomato that smelled like it came out of Tranc's mouth. Iltach slammed his pants to the ground and inhaled sharply before sticking his ass out and squirting yellow diarrhea all over the meal, covering it with the fetid odor. The gorilla sighed before inhaling sharply again and squirting over the burger two more times. He then sharted so hard both the alligator and I (take note I was standing beside Iltach, and nowhere behind him) caught some debris and his tiny specks of shit splattered over us. I envied the alligator, considering most of it got into his mouth and on his face, which he licked off.

"Okay, Order #86's done!" said the gator, handing the messy meal to the customer.

"Anyway, as I was saying, I'm not into being on the set of a porn flick."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. It feels degrading to me."

"Degrading how?"

"Think about it: your best, most secret scat maneuvers you perform that not even your family knows about, and you go to Grunge Cineplex and show that move to everyone in the world? It's like if you have a precious gem in your house and you show it to everyone and it's no longer secret or precious anymore cause everyone knows about it. You get what I'm saying?"

"Pride?"

"Yeah."

"You know pride is a sin?"

"Shut up Arnek; everything's a sin."

"And I don't think you should talk about degrading since you paid me to watch you suck yourself off after I shat all over your dick."

"Shut up!"

I laughed heartily. "So I take it you're not coming?"

"Not today. I may watch some of the vids on ShitTube later."

"Oh and uh, since I may be in one of the videos, do you have any laxatives?"

"Laxatives?"

"Yeah, I gotta ruin these pants by the end of the day."

Iltach sighed. "Don't use laxatives. That's anorexic shit!"

"But it makes you poop faster."

"And it screws up your bowels and ruptures your colon; you can die that way!"

"But eating shit is perfectly sanitary considering it makes us either vomit or take a shit an hour later?"

"Exactly! It's natural and healthy, as opposed to artificial and made in some pharmacy."

"Well, do you have anything my bowels aren't used to?"

"Deer Dung Burgers?"

"I can eat twelve of those without even passing gas."

"Chili-cheese-scat-fries?"

"Eh, the scat they use here is bland."

"What about that gyro you ate with Halloumi cheese and lamb meat?"

My mouth began to water. "Oh man, I'd love to eat one of those right now. But no, that doesn't make my colon upset."

"We got tuna." said the alligator.

I chuckled. If there was one thing my stomach wouldn't agree with, it was seafood. Almost everytime I eat it, I either get a terrible case of gas or wound up shitting myself ridiculously. I still remember this one time when I was eating at a restaurant in Furtopia and my ass flared up... You know where this is going.

"I'll take that, thanks. What flavor is it?"

The alligator grabbed a few small cans of Blackfish tuna from a rack and chucked them at me. I ripped off the lid on one can before looking at the contents and sniffing it.

"Hmm...doesn't smell as funky as I thought it would."

"That's because it's not expired. If I had a can that was over four months old the second you so much as licked the water inside you'd be squatting on the ground for the next six hours. You don't want to shit yourself now, do you?"

"You're right."

I dumped the contents of a whole can into my mouth before chewing the soft tuna and swallowing hard. It actually tasted better than I thought. The company even bothered to add a few spices such as cumin and paprika. I even tasted a hint of lemon pepper, or was it garlic pepper?

"Not bad. It even has a tangy lemon flavor to it."

"Yes, just down a few of those and you'll be soiling yourself in no time."

I tossed the empty can into the trash can before downing another can and belching.

"Thanks. I'll see you guys tomorrow!"

"Enjoy your porn shoot!" taunted Iltach.

As I ran out of the building, the gorilla's stomach growled loudly and he clenched his butt cheeks together again, the diarrhea dripping down his trousers yet again.

"Damn. Where's Order #104?!"

The alligator quickly placed a salad under Iltach's ass before he started to shart all over it.

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11:59 p.m.

Grunge Cineplex didn't look exactly as I had planned it would. It didn't look dirty at all on the exterior. The hangers were gigantic, coated with fresh white paint and a ceiling that looked like it could withstand an earthquake measuring 9.7 on the Richter scale. The gates leading into the studio were polished and shiny. ...They were polished with shit, but nevertheless, polished. The whole area was surrounded by walls that were practically impossible to breach and there were tough, muscular security guards who stood at the entrance. Both of them were rhinos, wearing a gray t-shirt and black pants and shoes. If the smell of them didn't ward off intruders, their coarse muscles and incontinent colons would. I could see them now, sitting on a burglar's face, asphyxiating them as they shat all over their face. Not exactly legal or moral, but this is Viletopia, and we're furries, so cops tend to look the other way. I doubt the press would give a damn if their main headline went something like "Burglar Asphyxiates on Rhinoceros Feces as He Tries to Rob Grunge Cineplex." Then again, they did make a headline about an ursine who was boiled to death in a bizarre accident at one of the factories. Anyway, the Cineplex looked glorious on the outside and didn't even smell as bad as one would predict. On the outside, that is.

Inside was a different story. Greizzer and I entered Hanger "B" after being led inside by the guards. We weren't regulars so the other hangers were restricted for the special guests and "celebrities" if you will. Although I made a name for myself with everyone calling me Bat Breath, I still hadn't made a name for myself when it came to shit and watersports and other fetishes. Anyway, once we entered Hanger "B" the smell overwhelmed us. The place reeked of shit that could be smelled literally miles away. It overpowered the odor of Viletopia itself, as though there was a greater stink housed inside the hangers even Viletopians feared. I could tell by Greizzer's facial expression that he hadn't smelled anything that bad before. The studio was just like the National Park, the floors full of urine or shit, or in some cases bile. The walls had the same grime, and I could've sworn even the ceiling was coated with it. The hanger was nothing more than a long corridor with dozens of rooms on each side, and in each room was the scene for a porn shoot. Most of the doors were closed, but I happened to catch a glimpse of a few shoots with the doors still open. I stopped walking for a moment and crept next to a door, peeking inside and watching as a lion was fucking the shit out of a lioness. The lion has dark orange fur and the lioness had light brown fur. She didn't look as dirty as her mate, but neither of them smell any better than vinegar or sulfur...or my feet. She was in a position where she was sitting on the lion's thick cock like it were a dildo, moaning intensely as she began to orgasm and murr with her tongue hanging down to her chin. The lioness was moving backwards and forwards, riding his dick like a cowboy or cowgirl on a horse. Simultaneously, the lion was grunting and using all of his strength to thrust up and down. I must've missed the juicy points of the film because as I watched the rest of it, the lioness screamed ecstatically and raised her tail, sharting all over his penis. The lion didn't mind; he looked forward at his mate and watched as his dick was soiled with the watery, stinky brown fluids and squishy particles of waste. In fact, he loved it so much that he came, grunting as he pushed up into her ass and filled it with white goop. The lioness murred again before she turned around and stared at her mate, smiling leeringly before lifting her tail again. She supplied her mate with another hot, squishy supply of feces, letting out sputtering sharts that were juicy and loud. Imagine stepping on wet sponges while sticking your head up a dirty rhino's ass and you got the gist of what the lioness's defecation sounded and smelled like. The director filmed for a few more seconds, observing the two mates stare at each other lovingly before he stopped the tape and finished the shoot. I had to admit, for a female she actually had me interested for the moment. If only I saw the whole thing, then maybe I would've even stepped in to join them or started masturbating to their work. As long as I wasn't in the middle or fucking the lioness, anyway.

"I love Grunge Cineplex! It's like a porn studio for fetishes!!"

"It is a porn studio for fetishes Greizzer."

"God, I can't believe I've never been here before! So many options and so many doors... What should we do first?"

"What do you mean 'we' Greizzer? I'm gonna go look for the wal-"

At that moment, my gut began to act up and I farted loudly. It was so loud one of the film directors had to stop his movie to see the disturbance. That Blackfish tuna the gator gave me was beginning to work, and I seriously needed to take a dump.

"Oh God, there we go. Shit, that tuna does work wonders on my bowels." I said, fidgeting and wobbling my knees.

"You alright Bat Breath?"

"Hehe, I am now. I just gotta find a director who's free and maybe I can get myself into one of these videos. Greizzer you can keep checking out the studio; I'm gonna find a director."

Greizzer ran away from me while I held my stomach as it grumbled loudly and made me pass more gas. At the time a wayward director happened to be standing behind me and caught wind of the flatus I shot out my ass, the gas practically leaving a stain on my trousers. I turned around, still holding my stomach and saw the director wave a paw in front of his muzzle.

"Damn and I thought the last bat I filmed had bad gas."

I chuckled nervously as my stomach grumbled louder again.

"Yeah, had a bad case of tuna this evening. Are you-are you about to make another video soon?"

"I was taking a break, why?"

"Have you filmed any bats soiling themselves before?"

"No...I haven't."

I grunted and let out another greasy fart. "Well, uh...how 'bout you film me? Whether or not you've noticed, but I really gotta take a shit now and trust me when I tell you that I won't be able to keep this bottled up for long."

The fox backed away and plugged his nose. "PHEW!! With gas like that, I believe you. I still have a few blank tapes left so if you step onto the set I can get you started in a few minutes."

The director guided me to Room 1284 and we stepped inside. It looked similar to the room that the lioness was in, full of nothing but lustful red carpeting and a lovely wall paper design, with hearts on it. I expected the odor to be something like perfume and sweat, but it was just musk and shit, something I didn't expect on a porn shoot. But hey, it's Viletopia after all. Besides the camera, there seemed to be no objects in the room, no boom boxes playing smooth, erotic music. No handcuffs or any type of bondage gear. No bucket or container to squat over and shit in. Most importantly, there was no bed for someone to fuck on. But I didn't need a bed or handcuffs or any sexual toy. Just my pants and my body. I was hopping up and down a little, clenching my ass cheeks together and farting in a loud, squeaky tone.

"Hurry up here fox. I can feel diarrhea dripping down my legs!"

I looked down and inhaled sharply as I felt something warm and wet flow down the back of my leg and drip onto the floor. It looked like melted chocolate, but the stench proved otherwise. The fox pulled a videotape out of his jacket pocket and placed it inside the camera before zooming in on me and focusing the lens on my movements.

"You know what you're gonna do?"

"Yep, just gonna go right here. Watch-thousands of Viletopians will fap to it."

"If you say so. And...action!"

I acted natural, standing in front of the camera with my ass stuck out a little, sweating nervously and panting so fast it seemed like I was about to have a heart attack. I grunted once and squinted before wincing and shutting my eyes, gritting my teeth as though I was in pain. I'm sure everyone who watched was expecting a major case of bathroom desperation before the climax came and I experienced a "Potty Failure." Inhaling sharply, I let myself go, feeling the hot diarrhea splash all over the seat of my pants and quickly fall down the legs. I exhaled and let out some more scat, before grunting and squatting to the floor a little. I sharted so hard that the seat of my pants instantly turned a dark shade of brown and it felt like someone filled my trousers with flattened potatoes. Not just mashed, but completely flattened. It was so loud I felt my feet vibrating against the carpet as the gas and shit blasted out. I instantly got a boner and moaned loudly once the soft, mushy shit fell out skyrocketed out my ass with ease. I didn't look back but I heard the faint plopping from behind and knew my feet were being covered in shit. As I looked down, I smiled triumphantly and grunted so I could shit some more, inevitably burying my stinky blue feet in more grotesque, foul-smelling slurry. Involuntarily I came in my pants again before the urine began to fill the front end, leaving a large, yellow tint to it. I was no longer in pain, but content and bliss, as the fox could tell by the silly grin on my face. The urine soon splashed to the floor below, soaking my feet and the excess shit before my ass was ready for another round of emptying its contents. Before I knew it, I couldn't even see my feet anymore and the mound of shit on the carpet was raising past my Achilles tendons. I couldn't take the euphoria anymore, and moaned with pleasure before cumming in my pants again. You have no idea how extraordinary it feels to soil yourself until you actually experience it. It's hard to explain, but it's something us Viletopians love to do. There's just something about it that makes us tick-the feeling of filling up your trousers with your own waste as though it were a diaper, creating an overwhelming stink you can bask in, proving you're the ultimate Potty Rebel by showing everyone that this is how you react to potty training, or in my case, soiling yourself so hard it drips down to your feet, and you get to wiggle your toes and step in it as much as you want to. The only problem with soiling is getting caught and cleaning up. However, since us Viletopians don't care much if we get caught, and never clean up our messes, it's no problem for us. Perhaps it's got something to do with rebellion or pride. I'm sure no one would fuck with you if you soiled yourself right before a fight. Make a lewd comment and vomit, maybe, but I can say with certainty that no one wants to fight someone with shit in his pants. The smell alone would distract 'em. Anyway, sooner than later, I finished messing myself and the fox stopped recording, shouting out "CUT!" before ejecting the tape and taking it into his possession. But I couldn't stop shaking and sighing with bliss, unable to snap out of one of the best moments in my life, soiling wise, anyway.

"Shit man, this is gonna make tons of money on the Internet! And I love that facial expression you used right as you began to go! It's like you were really holding it in but at the last second, you're bowels just exploded with fury and you let it all out."

I exhaled and turned to look at the director. "I was...holding it in." I chuckled.

"Well, thanks for the show. Feel free to check out the rest of the studio!"

"I will. By any chance, do you know of a chubby brown and gray walrus who farts a lot and has a big moustache?"

"Oh, you must mean Finn. He should be finishing up his video in Room 1687."

"Good. Thanks for the info."

"No problem. Hey, what's your name so I can call you that in the video I just shot?"

"Just call me 'Bat Breath.'"

I walked out of Room 1284, my pants squishing like a sponge and leaking shit with each step I took until I was back in the corridor and began to walk to my destination. On the way I happened to peek inside another room that was halfway open to see a familiar tiger standing in front of a yellow mouse. The mouse was on his knees and his muzzle was halfway up the tiger's asshole. It was Samuel and Roger again, and it seemed that the rodent was busy rimming his boyfriend's ass. He was masturbating as always, and giggling softly as he moved his tongue up and down the tiger's messy asshole. Samuel turned around and rubbed Roger's head briskly before shoving his head further inside his ass.

"See, love? Now we can do this and get paid for it." said Samuel sensually.

Roger giggled again and continued to rim the tiger. He exhaled and opened his mouth, biting down on the hole playfully before licking the foul pubes around his ass and taint. I couldn't tell what it must've tasted like but I merely imagined the time I was rimming Casey when he was constipated for nearly a month and wound up taking a hyper shit. Roger suddenly gasped with shock once he noticed that a warm fluid was dripping down his face and maw. Samuel chuckled as his ass began to leak and Roger opened his mouth wide, lapping at his tailhole to rim the tiger some more and to drink his diarrhea. He farted and covered half of the mouse's head with stinky poo before grunting and bringing his head in a little closer. Roger saw the large log of shit coming out and kept his mouth open wide, masturbating furiously. Samuel grunted softly and started to poop in Roger's mouth, but he didn't shoot it out all at once. He defecated enough so the mouse could gather enough shit in his mouth before swallowing. Roger moaned and closed his eyes, gulping down the giant shit-log as though it was a massive foot-long subway or hot dog. It was hard and stinky and Roger actually had to stop momentarily so he could chew some of it. But with a final fart and grunt from Samuel, he dropped the remaining part of his shit and Roger grabbed it with his mouth. He started to chew on the giant pile of manure slowly, smiling and moving his jaw up and down as the stinky dirt-flavored poo flowed down his throat. The rodent swallowed the log with a loud gulp before exhaling, having shit smeared all around his face.

"Want another midnight snack?"

"Oh, yes..." Roger hissed, his breath strong enough to smell even from where I stood.

Samuel giggled again and wiggled his ass in Roger's face before bending over and grunting, squeezing another smelly log of shit out his ass for Roger to swallow. I smiled widely and thought about joining the two in the video, but I was getting sidetracked, and continued to walk down the corridor. I was about to hit Room 1687 when I heard raucous flatulence that was so sudden it startled me.

"And for a second there I didn't think you'd make it."

I turned around and saw Finn standing next to a vacant room, his arms crossed. He was still wearing the red floral shorts, still had the thick moustache, still had the brown and gray fur, and still let out farts that could be described as a sonic boom. He wasn't smiling but he had this face that looked like he was very eager to see me. Despite Finn's girth and size, there was another walrus roughly three feet taller than him, with twice as much girth and muscle. The walrus behind him had a mixture of olive green and gray fur and was wearing dark blue cargo shorts. His feet smelled like he had recently been treading through a sidewalk coated with Limburger cheese that had been doused in malt vinegar. And if he were to lean over and break wind, it would sound as loud, if not louder, than Finn's.

"Hehe...I've been uh, I've been busy..."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I said, embarrassed.

"I don't suppose you've met my father?"

I looked up at the giant walrus again and blinked. "This is your dad?"

"What'd you think I was? His bouncer?"

His voice was gruff like a lumberjack or a construction worker. 10 to 1 that's what his job was. Like his son, he had a thick moustache and his breath smelled like fish. Although, I could tell he was a serious drinker, considering I could also smell the various skoon shots on his breath too.

"No, no I just uh...well..."

His father chuckled. "Calm down, I'm not gonna rip your wings off. I just came here to see what my son was making. All those fart vids of his are really revitalizing...if you know what I'm talking about."

Finn's father chuckled and patted his back before sliding his hand further south, digging into his floral shorts. The walrus giggled and started playfully pushing his father's arm away.

"C'mon Dad, stop. You're embarrassing me here."

"You know you want it."

"...Yes, but not now pop. Maybe you could go back home and watch the ball game till I get back."

His father chuckled again and took his hand out of his son's shorts. "Okay. I'll see you later then. It was nice meeting you um..."

"Arnek."

"Yes, Arnek."

The burly walrus turned around and began to walk away, cutting a huge fart before turning around and grinning devilishly at his son. Judging by the look on his face and bulge in his pants as he saw his father walk away, I knew they had some form of incestral relationship.

"I see you guys are very close."

"Oh yes, yes we are. I take it you've already made yourself a video?"

I looked down at my messed pants. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't think anyone who comes here is going to shit themselves that hard without someone catching it on camera."

"True. So um..."

I chuckled nervously and started to scratch the back of my head. "Do you think...we could...um...?"

"Sure. We're both already here, so why the hell not? Unless you want to see that Zudomon first."

"What's a Zudomon?"

Suddenly, with four loud stomps on the ground that sounded like Tranc was in the building, a massive Digimon appeared behind us. I couldn't describe it besides saying it looked like Bowser with the giant green turtle shell on its back. It was a burly, gruff walrus with orange and gray fur, blue eyes and a jagged unicorn-like horn. Its tail was slippery and looked like it belonged on a Mermaid, but overall, an oversized anthro walrus. It wasn't the appearance that baffled me, compared to the stench coming from the oversized creature. There was slime or some odd type of muck covered all over his body, his feet smelled incredibly strong, like that from a skunk's or from a wrestler who never took off his boots in years. Everytime he exhaled all I could smell was onions mixed with feces and bulf (bull and wolf hybrid) urine, not to mention the notorious skunk oil. Everywhere he walked, he left a slippery trail of shit behind; he was so incontinent that he could never stop shitting or letting out flatulence. I had to admit; the smell of the guy made me back away and plug my nose.

"Oh, you're Zudomon." I said, coughing a little.

The creature let out a hacking laugh before belching in my face and raising his right leg to pass gas and inhale the odor.

"Yes, I'm the famous Zudomon." he snorted.

"What makes you uh, famous?"

The creature laughed again and squatted to the ground.

"I'll show you."

The Zudomon made two fists and let out several grotesque sharts before he began to poop on the ground. However, instead of pooping out a log of shit, he pooped out an egg. Yes, an actually egg of shit. The egg was very hard though and easy to withstand force, because it didn't break or crumble when it made contact with the floor. The Zudomon continued to poop until he screamed and began to rise into the air; the egg he was shitting out was growing in so much diameter that as he shat it out, he was rising into the air. Like me when it comes to soiling, he was enjoying himself thoroughly, as I ducked once he came all over the place, and then began to pee on the floor. Finn and I merely stood in amazement and stared at Zudomon crap out his egg until it was roughly ten feet tall and twelve feet wide. It was green and black and reeked of tar and you're everyday septic tank, combined with the horrible odor coming from the Digimon's asshole. After he shat out the egg, he hopped off the giant obstruction and stomped in front of us, turning around and staring at his "talent."

"Isn't she beautiful?" he said, passing more gas and drooling.

"Yeah, it is. I've heard of a Pokémon who can do the same thing."

The Zudomon sighed with glee and hugged his giant egg before opening his mouth and taking a large bite out of it.

"You guys want some?"

"Um, no, we gotta make a film soon. You have fun with your egg alright?

"I will!" said Zudomon, shooting a little bit of poop out his mouth.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Finn and I were standing in another porn room with the door locked. Both of us were naked (I still reeked of my own filth, but Finn didn't seem to mind) and we were standing next to each other. The burly walrus was a few feet taller than me and he smiled as he looked down and smiled leeringly at my body. I was still nervous though, as I didn't know what would happen or what to do. I giggled nervously and rubbed my arm before looking back up at Finn.

"So, uh, is there a script we have here or do we just-"

The walrus suddenly shoved me to the floor before pinning me down with his foot. He promptly turned around and squatted so his ass was hovering above my head. Before I knew it, I was in heaven and I could smell nothing short of hydrogen-sulfide and fish guts. I heard nothing but squishing and trumpets playing and all I saw was an asshole opening up so it could blow gas in my face. I gasped and inhaled the gas before Finn sat on my face and farted again. He sighed and wiggled his ass left and right, making sure he buried the stench in my face. Without further delay, he grunted and hiked up his leg to pass more rancid flatulence, smelling like bird poop and sewage waste. He lifted his head and smelled the odor before sighing triumphantly and squeezing out a louder, wetter fart that instantly gave me an erection. I couldn't breathe, but then again, I didn't want to. At the time I was actually okay if I died suffocating under a funky walrus's ass and his egg-reeking flatus. But I knew Finn wouldn't do that to me, and he didn't. He was just trying to get me to cum.

"Oh man, here comes a big one!"

Finn leaned over a little before he let out a giant fart that could blow the scales off a dragon or fish, blow the fur off a canine or ursine, or crack a window that was over a foot thick and made of Plexiglas. In fact, one of the light bulbs in the room did shatter, and Finn was lucky the camera didn't crack either. The smell of it was like Finn's father and my pants after I soiled them in the studio. It tasted musky, like rotten eggs dipped in shredded brimstones and garlic. It was all too much to handle. And if that wasn't enough, Finn passed gas for twenty-five seconds before he finally stopped. My erection was so hard that it hurt, and it was dripping with pre. Finn looked down at it and chuckled before shooting a final, short, but loud, fart in my face. I finally shot my load into the air and Finn rose from my face to give me some air. But to my amazement, he wasn't done. He kneeled down in front of me before grabbing my legs and bringing my feet up to his face, inhaling and sniffing heavily. He murred loudly and exhaled before taking another strong sniff and opening his mouth to lick my blue sole. I didn't know he had a foot fetish, but after I looked down at his uncut penis and noticed he suddenly had a thick erection, it all made sense. He moved forward a little and held my legs high in the air so my asshole was partially visible before jamming his cock inside of it. There was no need for lube; my ass was already doused in greasy shit from before. It was ironic though, because I was actually hoping Finn would stop. I was tired, exhausted even; I had came five times in less than 24 hours, and there was only one occasion where it was because of masturbation. My ass and dick were tired, and all I wanted to do was sleep alongside Finn, and have him give me countless Dutch Ovens overnight. But as he thrusted forward, he passed gas and smiled while looking down at my face, and it was all worthwhile.

"FINN-!"

He didn't respond and continued to fuck me missionary style. Each time he thrusted, he passed gas, sometimes louder than others. I couldn't tell what was better: the smell of his fish breath as he exhaled in my face, the smell of his abrupt and loud flatulence, the sound of his farts, or if it was just the sweaty, strong odor of our bodies brushing against each other. It was all too much for me and, despite how much it hurt, I got another erection, on the verge of cumming again.

"Yes, you like that, don't you Bat Breath?"

I squealed like a mouse and grabbed Finn's shoulder, nearly pulling off some fur with painful bliss. He moved forward some more and stuck almost his entire dick inside my asshole, and I could feel his warm precum oozing its way out. He was gritting his teeth like me, but still smiling and moaning. He bent down and kissed me fervently before getting back up and thrusting faster than before, already seconds away from cumming. He was passing so much gas the room was becoming cloudy with a mysterious faze, and I caught a glimpse of the director masturbating himself.

"FINN!!!" I screamed.

But Finn thrusted forward and came inside my ass, simultaneously making me cum all over my face since my dick has tiled back and was pointed at my head. Instead of farting, Finn shat all over the room, coating it with messy, watery pieces of scat, as though he were spraying the contents from a septic tank out of his ass, a "Double Blow" as we Viletopians call it. I should be glad he didn't do a "Triple Blow" though, which is vomiting, shitting, and cumming simultaneously. Finn passed the excess gas out his ass before exhaling and looking down at me. I was nearly unconscious and my fur and skin on my face was coated with cum. I didn't respond or compliment him or try to kiss him in anyway whatsoever. I just stared at him for another 30 seconds before passing out with a grin on my face.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

3:12 a.m. Sunday

I woke up in Finn's muscular arms, realizing he was carrying me home. My clothes were back on but I was still exhausted and having trouble staying conscious. I glanced at Finn's face and blinked a few times before calling out his name.

"Finn..."

"Don't worry Bat Breath, I'm just gonna take you home. You must've been tired after the video we shot. I think it's time we put you to bed, eh?"

"Are you...sleeping with me?"

"As long as you don't mind me cutting farts all night and don't plan to secretly chop up my body and eat me."

I chuckled softly and buried my head in his shoulder. "Thank you...Finn."

I was still debating whether or not I fell in love that night or just found another fuck buddy, but Finn was definitely different than the others. Besides, I can't even remember the last furry who carried me home the way he did. But there's something about him that makes me want to spend the rest of my life with him.

Perhaps I'll find out what that something is one day...