Enjoy the story! Mind the tags. I splice my chapters up into parts. Also, I post quite slowly, so please excuse that. Feel free to let me know what you thought of it afterwards!
Sealed Fate
“Mr. Brown, you understand the job description, yes?” the burly man in a crisp black suit asked.
Matthew Brown played with his hands a bit, twisting and twirling the sleeves on his newly bought shirt. The pale blue cotton did not go well with his brown leather pants at all, yet he had had no time in the morning to ponder about his fashion choice for the day. This was the first place in years that had decided to respond with an interview invitation; and being on the wrong side of twenty-two, Matt was DESPERATE for work. Any work. Even work like this.
“Yeah… I think I do, sir. But I’d be grateful if you could summarize it once more. Please?” he asked with a barely-disguised voice crack.
“Of course, Mr. Brown. So, to take it from the top - you will become a government worker under the Ministry of Health. Recently, we have created a new position; as I’m sure you know, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. The position title is Human Toilet. I know that doesn’t exactly evoke pride or eagerness, but you’re willing to see past such surface level qualities, yes?” the interviewer inquired while his left eyebrow slowly crept up on his forehead.
“Yes, sir! I mean… I’m not exactly keen on the position to be totally honest with you. I hope you don’t mind me saying that. But I’m still ready to give it my all! I’ve always been a quick learner, so I’m sure I’ll adapt to anything you throw at me!” Matthew said with his hands curled into fists.
The interviewer smiled gently, saying, “Please, Mr. Brown, rest assured that I understand your hesitance. You are in good hands here, and I personally will make sure you always have a listening ear to turn to. That’s what we’re here for, after all. Now, let’s get back to your job. You will be called at certain times to serve as a Human Toilet at a location where your services are needed. Your work hours will almost certainly be irregular and impossible to truly plan around. However, we will make sure to not overburden you. A typical work day ranges from eight to twenty hours. High hour counts are not expected though, so no need to worry too much. You will be paid a base rate at the end of each month plus an added bonus for each hour you are in service. So far so good?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you for your clarification.”
“Perfect. Now, to illustrate a typical work day as a Human Toilet. As the name so brutishly conveys, you will be accepting waste from people into your mouth. That is, primarily urine and feces. Occasionally other bodily waste might be involved, but nothing else. While you are working, you shall not talk or otherwise communicate with the person using you. The only exception is if you’re in danger or if you need it to assist your use. Your visitors are obviously forbidden from hurting you, but otherwise they are free to touch you in any way they want. Exempt from this rule is any pain or discomfort caused by accepting waste as described in your job description. I fear you’ll just have to get used to those.”
“I understand, sir. I mean, seeing the name of this job with my own eyes, I sort of knew what I was getting into.”
“I’m glad you are so accepting. Now, and I cannot stress this enough, it is important that you completely separate your work self from your civilian self. You may not share, address, act on, or disclose any information gained while you are working. Much in the same vein, you are not allowed to use any information from your civilian life while working, but you can’t really do that either way, so that rule is basically obsolete. Don’t worry, this is a two-way street. Any of your visitors may not interact with you in any way that would involve your civilian life. Similarly, no interaction with your Human Toilet persona may be acted on or shared. Trust me, we take this VERY seriously and treat all Human Toilets as a protected group… Plus, us government workers have to stick together, right? So you’d have most of us on your side as well,” he finished speaking with the same soft smile on his lips.
“I… I see… Well, that’s certainly a lot to take in. But, I’ll be honest, it doesn’t sound that bad? Like, yeah, it’s probably a bit disgusting, but it sounds easy enough?” Matthew said, rubbing his arm.
“That’s the spirit!” the interviewer laughed.
“Well… then I guess I’m ready for the interview itself?”
“Oh, there is no real interview. Just a simple Q&A session, which we’re already done with. So congratulations on the job, colleague! I am excited to be working with you,” the interviewer’s smile widened, and he stretched out his hand.
“Ah, yes! Glad to be on board, sir!” Matthew shot up from his seat, dazed.
It took him a while to realize what was wanted of him, but he did accept the obvious handshake proposal after an embarrassing amount of time. He felt his cheeks redden into a crimson bloom, staring into the ground.
“Call me Patrick from now on, okay? It’d be best if we’re on more familiar terms, no? With me being your supervisor and all,” Patrick grinned as his dark brown palm easily engulfed Matthew’s rather slender, pale hand in a firm shake.
“Of course, Mr. Patrick! It’s a pleasure to will be going to work with you… uh, I mean to be working with you!” Matthew stammered.
“Just Patrick is fine. No need for any special honors between us, alright? Especially since I’m not that much older than you, Mr. Brown,” Patrick laughed a bit.
“Understood! Uh, you can call me Matthew if you want to. Or Matt. Or whatever else you prefer,” the stammer continued.
“Thank you for that, Matt. I’m sure we’ll get along swimmingly.”
With that, the rather awkward handshake was finally released and Matthew let out an audible exhale. His shoulders slumped, while his hands reached out to grab his things. Wait… He eventually realized he had not brought anything with him and brushed his fingers off on his pants; his legs already turning to get him out of there as quickly as possible.
A strong grip appeared on his neck before he could start moving anywhere. It was Patrick’s.
“Relax, Matt. You did fine. You were just nervous, that’s all. Well, you ARE nervous. But that’s fine, you’ll be fine; trust me, alright? Now, one last thing. When it’s time for you to work, I’ll call you on your phone. Since I know you don’t have a license, I’ll come to pick you up and drive you to the site myself. Before you get all nervous again - this is normal. We supervisors need to be ready to travel for a Human Toilet in service at any moment. That’s basically the main point of our job description. So rest assured, you won’t be alone,” Patrick said as his grasp fastened for a split second with no real malice behind it.
Despite his likely intentions, Matt simply gave him a smile that was less than at ease. If anything, it was tenser than before. Patrick’s own lips formed a half-defeated half-understanding form, but he continued with his stride nonetheless. They walked. People stared a lot less than Matt had been worried they would. If they even knew. Soon, the crisp air of an early June morning blasted his face, accompanied by a booming voice he was all to familiar with.
“Yo! How’d it go? Did you get it?”
Matthew gently extracted himself from Patrick’s hold as he quietly replied, “Yeah, I got the job.”
“YEEEEEAH! That’s my boy! My little champ!” the waiting man shouted before running towards Matt.
“Whoa, dad!” Matt held up his hands in protest, but it was no use.
With all the strength of a marine veteran, the feeble resistance was easily bypassed as Matthew got scooped up into his father’s embrace. One of his dad’s massive arms firmly clamped around his waist. There was no way he could move. The other arm, the one with an anchor tattooed on the shoulder, reached up so that Matt’s hair was in ruffling range. Naturally, such a ruffle followed.
“Dad, c’mon now, please, not in public!” Matt shrieked.
“Shush now. Let me celebrate, Matty!” his dad said with an exaggerated pout.
“Don’t worry, Matt. It’s alright. You deserve to be celebrated a bit, just like your father said! Getting a job nowadays is difficult,” Patrick said.
“Damn right it is! See, Matty? Be a bit more positive!” Matt’s dad said and began walking to his car, carrying his son up high. “Now, excuse us, sir! I’ll be getting my little worker bee here home! We have a celebratory lunch to eat! I’ll take out the good steak.”
“Right away, Mr. Brown. Enjoy!” Patrick said with a final wave of his hand.
Matt just pressed his head into his dad’s hair, trying to hide his face, hoping it’d prevent him from being recognized. An adult man carried by his dad? Not exactly the most dignifying look.
“Dad, there’s really no reason to party. I mean, it’s just…” Matt trailed off.
“It’s just what? A well-paying job? A job serving the people? A job that most other people are too much of a pussy to do? Yeah, I agree. So turn that frown upside down, alright?”
“Dad, I’ll be eating shit for a living…” Matt whispered, ashamed of the reality he found himself in.
“And you’ll do a damn good job at it! I know you will. I know YOU, after all. Truly the best son my balls have ever made,” his dad grinned and patted him on the back.
“Dad, please… your oldest son is a popular gymfluencer who has millions of followers and your youngest son is already a business owner at the age of twenty-one. Oh, and he’s married. To ‘an absolute unit’ as you put it once. And I am what? That’s right - a living toilet. People will piss in my mouth.”
“No, Matty, my oldest son is a meathead with more luck than brains and my youngest son is an insufferable, ruthless, frigid prick who married the first bimbo who made his dick wet. And then I have one amazing middle son who tries his best at everything he does and puts a smile on my face everyday.”
“Dad… Whoa!” Matt exclaimed as he got roughly deposited into the passenger seat of their car.
The frame rattled as dad slammed the door shut roughly, stomping over to the driver seat. Matt took the opportunity to straighten his back.
“Now, we’re gonna go home and you’re going to let me make you the best steak you’ve eaten in your entire life. Well, except for my other best steaks you’ve eaten. Understood?”
“Dad, do you need me to remind you? I’ll be eating shit for who knows how long! I… What will people say? I live at home and people piss in my mouth. What about that is amazing?”
“Matty. Don’t provoke me,” his dad looked directly into his eyes, lips a straight line, brow furrowed. “I don’t care what others say. To me, you are amazing and you make me proud. And as far as I know, nobody CAN do anything to you because of this. That’s one of the big draws of the job, no? Besides the pay, that is. And trust me, if they do? I’ll personally make sure their face is rearranged before the cops can get to them. So now shush. I’m being serious. No more moping around, okay?”
It took Matt a moment to respond, but as his dad turned the key in the ignition, he simply smiled and replied, “Yeah… Thanks, dad.”
“There’s my happy little Matty. Now, when we get home, you’ll go to sleep earlier, alright? We have to get you on a proper working man’s schedule!” his dad shouted with a comical smash to the dashboard.
“Sure. I can’t wait to see what my life will look like from now on,” he said and looked out into the distance.
Under Construction
First Shift
Breakfast was a bit tougher than Matthew had anticipated. Yes, it was his favorite - pancakes; courtesy of his dad, of course. But it felt oddly difficult to chew, the fluffy treat feeling like a bland wet paper clump that refused to slide down his throat. Just this fact alone made him imagine what his new job would entail. Suddenly, he wished everything in his future were just as tasteless as his breakfast.
“You good, boy?” Matt’s dad asked, brow slightly furrowed.
“Huh? Oh… yeah! Just a bit nervous about… you know…” Matt fumbled with his fork as he spoke.
“About eating shit. Drinking piss. Yes, I understand Matty, don’t worry,” his dad’s eyebrows slanted back as he came closer with a pitying smile.
“Dad, please, I’m trying to eat here,” Matt protested.
“Listen, Matty. I know you feel like it’s going to be disgusting, but this isn’t the only job that involves shit, you know? You forget about janitors, nurses, plumbers and many other positions. You don’t think their jobs are anything to scoff at, right? If you do, then I did a poor job of raising you,” his dad chuckled and ruffled Matt’s hair quite roughly.
“I know, dad. I’m not one to look down on people who have, like… dirty jobs. But still… none of them eat it, dad.”
“Oh, shush. Like that changes how important your job is. You’ve read up on the job just like I have, no? It helps with good hygiene. It promotes medical research. It provides a temporary solution to plumbing problems. Can’t you see? You’re doing a great service to the entire country, Matty. You respect my career choice, right? I am definitely saying I would not dare put your position down, so take my word like that of a professional if not of your father, okay?”
Matthew shifted his eyes to see his father properly. The black, dense, full beard was only a few inches away from his face as his dad’s breath tickled his skin. The beautiful blue eyes staring into his held neither pity nor dishonesty. Just warm love.
“Okay, dad. I’ll try,” Matt said, squinting his eyes followed by a small grin.
“That’s the spirit! That’s the boy I know and love! And don’t worry, if the government doesn’t protect you from douchebags who would dare harass you for it, then your dad will. I meant what I said yesterday.”
To emphasize his point, Matt’s father flexed both of his arms, his hands nearly touching the buzz-cut on his head, his polo-shirt straining at the sudden expansion of his bulging biceps. A wink flew Matthew’s way.
“Thanks… Truly, dad, I am very thankful to have you in my life,” Matt’s gaze softened.
“Of course, Matty. Now stop making your old man sappy. Finish your breakfast and you can go about your day. You might not even be called in today, who knows,” his dad said with another ruffling of hair.
Unfortunately for him, his father’s prediction would be proven wrong in a matter of seconds. Matt’s phone lit up, ringing with a tune that he had set specifically for his job. His eyes widened as he started wolfing down his food quickly. The name ‘Patrick’ shone clearly on the screen.
Matthew’s father clasped a hand over his mouth before he said in a hush, “Fuck, me and my big mouth. Sorry about that, boy. But hey, at least you get to see how you like the job right away! I’ll have food waiting for you when you return, alright? I promise.”
A mumble was the entire response he’d get as Matt was busy enough with trying to answer his phone, mouth stuffed.
“Hello?” he somehow struggled out between chews.
“Matt, you there? I’ll be there in like ten minutes. That good? And no, you don’t have to bring or prepare anything,” Patrick asked, the sound of an engine clearly audible through the phone.
“Yeah, that’s good! I’ll wait for you at the curb so you don’t have to park or anything.”
“Nice. See you soon then!” Patrick quickly responded and hung up.
Matthew’s panic did not stop with the call, his utensil moving faster even to the point of making him choke on a particularly big piece of pancake.
“Matty, Matty, calm down! It’ll be fine. Here, you’re basically done with your food, so let me get this washed up and you go prepare,” his dad chimed in, taking his nearly empty plate.
“But he said I didn’t have to prepare anything.”
“Yeah, the job doesn’t need preparing, but you clearly do. So go take a breather. Drink some water. I’ll be here when you come back, don’t you worry,” another wink came from dad as he walked over to the kitchen sink.
“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right. Let me do that,” Matt said standing up.
A few laps of pacing, then a couple of deep breaths, some stretching, changing his shoes and finally a honk… A honk? Oh fuck, Patrick was already here.
“That’s your ride, boy! Off you go!” his dad gave him an encouraging shout from the other side of the house.
Whimpering, Matt opened the door with a sweaty palm, feeling the outside light shine onto his face as he made his way down the concrete steps. The pavement clacked under his sneakers as makes his way to a rather luxurious looking black sedan. Without a moment’s hesitation, he hurried over to the passenger door and got in.
“Hey,” he stammered out as he closed the two of them in.
Patrick was smiling reassuringly, his earpiece securely in place, hands on the wheel.
“Heyo! Let’s get you to your first job, shall we? Don’t worry, I’ll explain things to you once more when we arrive.”
“Yup!” Matt said, securing his seat belt. “Where are we going, actually?”
“It’ll be a surprise! The ride there shouldn’t take too long.”
And with that, the car set into motion.
It really wasn’t a long ride at all. Fifteen minutes tops. They didn’t speak much - mainly due to Matt’s increasingly prominent twitch. His digits twisted around each other repeatedly, chewed fingernails clacking once or twice when they met.
“Matt, we’re here,” Patrick said as the car came to a stop.
“Right…” a gulp.
Peering out of the window, the destination was quite clear. Cement as far as the eyes could see, random bags full of stuff that Matt had no clue about, machines that were taller than his house and the unmistakable smell of hard work. Yep… this was going to be a tough one.
“Is this really the place?” Matt whimpered.
“Sure is. Now, come on out. I’ll walk you.”
Matt nodded so fast that his neck popped whilst opening his door so forcefully that it almost tore off the hinge.
“Whoa there, Matt! That’s the work car! Handle it with a bit more care, please,” Patrick said, voice raised and alarmed.
“Yes! Sorry, sir! I mean, Patrick,” Matt stammered out and closed the door gently.
“Ease up, Matt. This isn’t going to be as bad as you think. Plenty of our other Human Toilets are just fine with their work after doing it a few times. You’ll be like that too, trust me.”
“Yeah… Hopefully, you’re right,” another gulp.
Patrick smiled and started walking deeper into the construction site, Matthew following closely behind. They passed several workers on their way to the actual workplace - all of them big, burly and sweaty. How was he supposed to handle these men?
Before he could properly ruminate, he bumped into Patrick’s back in his daze. A strong arm coiled around his waist, preventing him from nearly as much as wobbling.
“Careful there, Matt,” Patrick said as he pulled his subordinate closer. “Now, this is where you’re going to be located today.”
His other arm stretched out, index finger pointing directly at a modern looking porta potty. Located at the end of a row of other portable toilets, this one stood out with the giant triangular sticker on the door, text wrapping on its edges - 'Human Toilet. Monitored area. Please, follow the guidelines inside."
Without waiting for a response, Patrick opened the door and Matt was greeted with… almost nothing. The inside of this construction looked quite empty. There was a small drain in the center of the floor, a plastic bench attached to the sides with a hole in the middle and a blinking camera in the corner. Looking around, he tried to find something else to give him a hint as to how this would go down, but he only found a laminated sheet of rules on the wall - rules that had been explained to him yesterday. There was also a weird looking tube in the corner, but that only raised more questions.
“Uh…” Matt said, stepping in after Patrick.
“I know, you probably don’t know what to say. So let me give you a quick rundown,” Patrick said as he closed the door on them.
Instead of the expected darkness, a light automatically shone down onto them, illuminating the interior. Following Patrick’s index finger again, Matt looked at the bench.
“This is where you’ll be working. Now, some of your visitors will prefer sitting on the bench with you under it, some might want to have you against the wall, some will be on you while you’re on the floor. They’ll maneuver you how they need to, so don’t worry about that. The bench can be unlatched on one side and taken aside, so if you need more space, do that.”
“Uh-huh,” Matt said sluggishly, his eyes glazed over a bit.
“Now, that in the corner? That’s what you’ll use when you absolutely have to go. You shouldn’t have to, but it can happen. It can take one person’s waste just fine, so don’t worry about it overfilling, though make sure none of your clients use it. That’d be against the regulations. If you miss any of your clients’ waste, that’s what the drain is for.”
“I see…” a certain resignation settled itself into Matt’s voice.
“And finally, you can see the camera there. I’ll be watching you, so don’t worry if something starts going wrong. If you need help, just wave at me and I’ll reply as soon as I can to check on you, alright?”
Patrick concluded his little tour with a clap on Matt’s back. The poor man nearly toppled over, catching himself on the wall.
“There, there. You’ll get used to it. Now, I do need to be somewhere else, but I’ll keep you on my radar, okay? You got this!”
Before Matt had any chance to reply, Patrick was already out through the door, the toilet closing back up on its own. Well… HE was the toilet, in this case.
Another whimper escaped his lips as he read through the plaque on the wall, his hands squeezing into fists over and over again.
What a day he had before him.
Cheesecake
There wasn’t a clock on the wall, so Matt had to resort to his phone. An hour had passed since he had arrived here. An hour of… nothing. Not a single visitor so far, just the omnipresent light above him. Honestly, it was kind of… chill. No real work to be done, simply twiddling his thumbs and messaging his friends. His battery was going to die at this rate.
Then - a commotion outside.
“Occupied?!” a low, urgent voice echoed from nearby.
“Yeah! Now piss off, Pitstain!” came an angry response from inside of the neighboring stall.
“Fuck…” said a barely audible whimper.
Heavy footsteps. Gravel crunching beneath thick soles. They stopped - right in front of Matt’s stall.
Quickly pocketing his phone, Matt got onto the floor, hands flailing around, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. He had no training. The rules hadn’t said anything about this in detail. Too late.
The light from outside shone in, causing the bulb above to go out briefly. And there was ‘Pitstain’. Tall like the others, hairy like the others and brawny like the others - a bit stockier even. He looked quite rectangular as he got into the portable toilet interior, closing the door behind him. When the artificial light fired up again, Matt could see why they called him ‘Pitstain’. His tank top was wet. Not in blotches, no - it was fully soaked through. Even the top of his pants was all moist. Yet that still wasn’t enough, apparently, as droplets of salty water dripped down from his nose and the rather bushy hair of his pits. Bushier than his already impressive beard. Well, not as impressive as dad’s, but that was a given.
“Look, man, I really need to piss. I don’t wanna be here either, just let me take a leak, okay? I’ll even do it into the drain, just let me-” he said as he started to unzip his cargo pants.
Matt shook his head vehemently. Yeah, he also preferred that option, but the rules were clear. And he wasn’t going to lose his job day one and disappoint not only himself, but mainly his dad.
“What? C’mon, man, please. I don’t wanna piss into a guy. Nobody will find out.”
Just as Pitstain finished saying that, the light above turned red and a voice came from the camera in the corner.
“Visitor, please, read the rules. Not complying could have legal consequences.”
That was Patrick’s voice. Matt felt his shoulders slump a bit. He wasn’t sure whether it was from hearing a familiar person, or the realization what was going to inevitably happen now.
“Fuck… alright, alright! Just… listen, let’s make it quick, alright, Toilet? Fuck… I’m going to piss down a random guy’s throat…” Pitstain moaned a bit.
Still unsure of the procedure, Matt had to improvise. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and closed his eyes. He made sure to put the bench aside for now and positioned himself in front of the drain. Just in case.
He heard the rustling of pants and a zipper finally being pulled open. Then some more cloth being shifted around, which he assumed was underwear. And so came the smell.
Pitstain was already an atrocious olfactory experience, but somehow things got worse after he whipped out his tool. Not only bitter, but now also sour and extremely overwhelming. It was an assault on his nostrils before the torture itself even began.
It was too much, he cracked open his eyes to see just what was so offensively pungent. And he regretted it. He was supposed to let THAT piss into his mouth? While it was rather small, it had a ridiculous amount of foreskin at the tip. But it was the state it was in that was horrifying. There were so many pieces of lint sticking to it, of various colors at that. Just how many pairs of underwear had that dick seen since it had been last washed? Well, at least he changed his underwear, so that was something. The splotches of what looked like crusted dirt looked worse. No wonder it smelt like a garbage dump.
But oh, the horror only truly began when Pitstain got closer. Not only did the stench get worse with their new proximity, but as the worker retracted some of his foreskin, Matt saw the layers of dick cheese sticking to the glans proper. At that point, it was a whole cheesecake. Holy fuck, Matt’s stomach really started to protest when he saw that absolute monstrosity. He wanted to nope out and leave, but no… this was his job. And other people also did disgusting things. He could do this. He’d endure.
“Man, look, I’m sorry, but I can’t piss myself on the job. I’d get made fun of even more. And I can’t exactly pull it out just anywhere when it’s like… this,” Pitstain gestured to the absolute sorry state his member was in.
Oh, how Matt wanted to retort. To at least spit on it - that’d probably be more water than that thing had seen in months. But hey, it could’ve been worse. Pitstain could’ve been a brute… Matt was trying really hard to be positive.
His mouth remained open as he nodded in feigned understanding. The sooner this was over with, the better.
Not even a few seconds later, and he heard it. A faint stream hit the ground in front of him.
“Shit, sorry, fuck. I can’t aim for shit. I got some on your pants, hope you don’t mind too much.”
Clenching both his fists and his eyes, Matt nodded again and did his best to ignore the warm spot spreading on his thigh.
“Here, let me get closer. That way I don’t mess up even more.”
Before Matt realized what was happening, the nuclear waste of a dick was right under his nose - the head nearly brushing against his lip. It was so disgusting. This guy looked older than his dad and was now about to piss into his throat with a cock that was encrusted. Oh well… this was his job… he could do this… he just had to ignore the awful smell.
When the stream came again, it hit him by surprise. Barely touching the inside of his mouth, it went straight into the back of his throat, hitting the flesh and pouring down into his stomach at express speed. It was… not as bad as he had expected. Yes, his eyes were watering and he really wished it would be over soon, but it was oddly… manageable. The taste was limited, as he had the luck of not getting almost any on his tongue, but even then it was still noticeably bad.
“Fuuuuuck, yeah. Finally… Oh, fuck,” Pitstain practically moaned out.
The stream increased in strength for a bit as the man in front of Matt let out a guttural groan of comfort. That made the taste a lot worse, but Matt grasped firmly at his thighs and persevered. He was a fighter.
Finally, the hot current started abating. Matt thought this would be a good thing, but he did not account for the trajectory of the stream. As it weakened, it started flowing directly into his mouth, practically drowning the entire bottom half of his mouth in rancid, sour, foul-tasting piss, coating his tongue completely. A retch nearly escaped him, but with all the willpower he could muster, he managed to suppress it. It would be over soon, he just had to swallow… just had to swallow… swallow that awful, pungent, stale liquid.
A gulp. A second. A third. Only then did the final droplets start hitting his teeth, signaling the end of his ordeal… for now. His bleary eyes opened, met with the light from above as he swallowed Pitstain’s urine one last time.
“Fuck, man, thanks. Uh… good job? I don’t tip, right?” Pitstain asked as he shook the last drops off the tip of his cock.
Normally, this would be a completely understandable habit. But in this case, it caused the remaining few droplets to spray all over Matt’s face, hitting his nose, chin and eyes. As fast as he could, he bundled up his sleeve into his hand and wiped at his skin, trying to get it off before it could soak into him.
“Oh fuck, sorry, man. Sorry. I just, uh…”
“It’s okay. There’s no tip,” Matt replied, trying to be as polite as he could possibly be in this situation.
“Oh, okay. I don’t have any money on me anyway… haha… Uhh… I’ll be going now. See you around… or not? Uhh… Yeah… Bye…” Pitstain struggled out of himself and quickly left the porta potty, zipping himself up as he went out.
Deep breaths. One… two… three… dammit. No matter how much he wanted to breathe, Pitstain had contaminated all the air in the booth. It smelled like a gym locker room, but amplified to the tenth power… with an added mix of caked up grease and fish added to it. No… this was fine. He could do this. For a minute, he even considered opening the door for a bit, but he wasn’t sure that was allowed. Additionally, even if he was supposedly protected, he didn’t want to risk anyone seeing him like this… pissed into…
His stomach gurgled slightly, processing all of the liquid that had just invaded it. Putting one of his hands onto his belly, he gently rubbed it, whilst his other hand finished rubbing at his face. One look at the sleeve, and he could see a few chunk of cheese. Yellow, smeared all over the fabric… and chunky. He wiped that sleeve on the floor as fast he could, simply thankful that he hadn’t seen what the piss itself looked like.
First visitor - done. Patrick’s voice came from the camera again.
“All good?”
Matt wanted to speak, but didn’t want to risk getting any of the foul air onto his tongue; it was already hard to keep down everything he had just swallowed, so he instead opted for a simple thumbs up aimed at the corner.
“Nice. Keep up the good work.”
Silence.
Silence and stench.
How the fuck was he supposed to handle shit when piss was already like this?
Laying Bricks
Around an hour went by since Pitstain came by. And yet, miraculously, his stink still permeated the entire interior of the portable toilet. The little ventilation holes in the plastic did not help at all. At least no one else came by since then. At that point, the aftertaste had mostly left his mouth and even his stomach stopped protesting the rather unpleasant intake of fluids. Matt was back to being on his phone. A message here, a video there, but his mind was somewhere else now. Anxiety flared up in him once more as he imagined the horrors that would await him on this job. Yes, in some aspects it hadn’t been as bad as he had expected, but in others? Terrible.
Yet no matter how bad it would get, he’d persevere. He had to. Yeah, his dad made a pretty penny as a personal trainer, only amplified by his background, but Matt didn’t want to be a leech. Especially when he thought about his brothers. Clearing his throat, he sat up straight on the bench, back propped up against the wall. He’d man up. It was just some shit and some piss. He could handle that.
Minutes flew by peacefully, the sounds of work coming in from outside accompanied by shouts and whistles. They were mostly incomprehensible, until one came from in front of the neighboring stall again.
“Ya done yet?! Some of us have to go too, ya bastard!” shouted the gruff voice of a chain smoker.
A few bangs of a calloused palm against plastic followed, yet no response came.
“Ya hear me in there?! Wipe that cunt of yours and get out!” a louder shout erupted.
Still nothing. Matt’s head already perked up, the hairs on his arms rising. Idly scratching at his goosebumps, he sat down onto the floor in preparation.
“Dammit, ya cheeky fucker! Get out of there or I’ll fucking- Oh fuck-” the shout got interrupted by a pained groan. “Fuck… Anyone? Please, can anyone free the stall?”
Yet, for the third time, not a peep.
“Dammit…” came a resigned hiss.
Footsteps. The crunch of gravel. A sense of deja vu permeated through Matt, his mind preparing for yet another ‘shift’.
The door opened with little care, but great urgency. In came a worker clutching his stomach.
Matt immediately noticed that the guy before was not a rectangle. This guy was a rectangle. Square jaw, broad shoulders, no visible curves - straight lines everywhere. Thankfully, unlike the guy before, this man looked like he actually showered. Some small stains under his pits were visible on his polo, but his smell wasn’t an immediate attack, so that was a win in Matt’s book.
“Fucking hell, was Pitstain here?” the worker recoiled, pinching his nose.
But he didn’t want an answer - not this time. He closed the door behind him and started unbuckling.
“So… uhh… how does this work?” the guy asked, looking around.
Matt silently pointed at the laminated text on the wall, already prepping by positioning his head under the opening of the bench. Well, it was now or never.
“Huh? Oh, fuck, that’s a lot of words. Let me see here…” the man got quiet, his eyes slowly moving over the text, yet when a loud gurgle came from his belly, he nearly doubled over.
“Fuck… Uh huh… Uh huh… Fucking hell it reeks in here… fuuuuck…” he swore under his breath as he stepped from leg to leg, clutching his stomach all the while.
“Okay, I got it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, it hurts like fuck.”
As he was talking, his hands fumbled around with his work pants, causing them to slide down his hairy legs. His holey, worn-out boxers followed as his limp dick swayed in the air, nestled in a thick patch of pubes. Shimmying over to the bench, he placed his feet at the very edges of the porta potty’s interior and sat down. What a view.
Matt had never really thought about a man’s ass; sure, he had seen it in porn a lot, but it was always an actor’s ass. Clean, photogenic, fake. This? This was a real working man’s ass. And it showed. As the man sat down, his cock and balls flopped downwards through the hole, while his cheeks pressed into the edges of the circular opening. The hairy, voluminous buns were pushed aside to bloom into a puckered anus. Even with an inexperienced eye Matt could tell that hole had never been touched before, looking tight as a vice. It was brown all over… browner than he thought it should be. The hair also looked a bit yellowish… oh fuck, this one also didn’t wash properly, did he? Well, at least his cut cock didn’t have cheese on it, so that was a start.
A grunt came from above. A long one. Nothing. Another dragged out grunt. Still nothing. This was going to be hard.
Deep breath. At least this one didn’t seem to stink so far. Well, except for sweat, but Matt’s entire house smelled like that, simply from dad alone, so he was fine with it. The shit would definitely be a problem though. Not much to do now that he was here. Opting for the tactic he used with Pitstain, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth in anticipation.
Happy thoughts. He had to think happy thoughts. Maybe he could give this man a name. After all, he didn’t know it and he was definitely not about to ask. What could be fitting… maybe ‘Brickhouse’. It definitely fit the aesthetic. Plus, Matt thought it was funny. Some slight humor to alleviate this situation.
Quickly, he was reminded just what he was about to do by a strong and loud gust hitting him into the face. A trace of rancid smell wafted into his lungs briefly, causing him to open his eyes. The anus above him was slightly opened, closing briefly before winking agape again.
“Sorry, man, this is gonna be a long haul,” Brickhouse apologized, before groaning as another, briefer, fart escaped him.
This one went straight into Matt’s open mouth.
Tears forming on the corners of his eyes slowly slid down his temples as he tried to endure. He thanked his lucky star that these passes of gas were loud, and therefore not as toxic as they could be. Growing up with three other men had taught him that lesson very well.
A groan escaped Brickhouse with another blast of gas. Very brief this time. Perhaps this was a sign of it slowly starting? Well, if not, then the squelching sound certainly was.
While the lighting wasn’t the best for this, Matt could see something pushing its way towards the opening. With small audible pops, it inches closer and closer, starting to spread its characteristic scent. Rotten eggs, spoiled milk and a hint of musk. Wonderful… so wonderful, Matt was already fighting his stomach. Again.
No, he had to repress it. Repress this entire situation. He’d eat it, just like he drank the piss before. Impossible? He had thought it so, but it turned out to be manageable. This would be the same, he was sure. He had to be sure.
This time, he did not close his eyes. He stared directly at what was happening. Slowly, the opening stretched open, but then… it stopped. A multitude of different groans came from above, yet to no avail. The hard, thick, brown mass was jutting out of the strained ring, but always got pulled back inside, much to its owners dismay.
“Fucking hell, it hurts,” Brickhouse struggled out of himself and hunched over, letting his ass descend a bit more.
Now the smell from the feces became truly intense, small chunks crumbling off the rock hard log, landing directly in Matt’s mouth. He didn’t taste them, didn’t even attempt to, simply swallowed as quickly as he could. But the main course was looming ever closer.
Stretch, and retreat. Bigger stretch and retreat. Biggest stretch in a while, it almost looked like it was going to fall for a single second, but then it went back again. Brickhouse slapped his thighs roughly, cursing out loud, before he started pushing again. This time, his pucker went white from the strain, skin cracking slightly as the stretch damaged it. Wider. Wider. Another crack or two appeared. And then it happened.
Brickhouse grunted out loud, turning it into a moan halfway in, breathing out deep. The dry shit was hanging from his anus precariously, before being severed by his vice grip of an ass. The pipe fell. For Matt, it was almost like in slow motion. He saw the hefty piece of feces fall down, landing directly into his waiting mouth. It barely fit. Thank fuck it did, he didn’t want to have to help it get in.
Now came the real ordeal. Matt panicked. Brickhouse wasn’t done yet, he saw the rest of the load retreat back into his ass. It was only a matter of time before it came out too. Until then, he had to get this chunk down. This was all ignoring the fact that he had someone’s shit in his mouth! He tried not to think about it, did his best to repress it, but it was too much. The smell could not simply be imagined away and it was sitting directly on his tongue too.
He tasted it all. The bitterness, the acidic tinge, the greasy fluid that came out of it as it slowly moved and cracked against his teeth. He shouldn’t have thought about it. He should NOT have thought about it. But it was too late to retreat now. He had to get it down somehow. So… he chewed.
Despite the struggle of getting it out of Brickhouse’s guts, it was surprisingly easy to bite through. A bit crumbly, but mostly mushy, despite the dryness. He swallowed. Oh, it sucked. It sucked so much. Now the lack of moisture was a problem, as it practically got stuck in his throat. He swallowed. Swallowed again. Nope, still in his throat. Fuck, another groan came from above. Brickhouse was already pushing again. Biting the bullet, Matt ate. He ate what had been shat into his mouth with a fervor that could only be produced by utmost fear and anxiety.
And then it just… went down. As he continued working his throat, it simply slid along his esophagus and entered his stomach, just like his dad’s pancakes had. And, to his pleasant surprise, he didn’t even taste it anymore… No, he did! He just… wasn’t bothered by it that much.
Before he could ponder this fact further, another load came from above, severed from a larger whole. This brick was a tad shorter, but just as girthy as the previous one. Matt chewed. His teeth worked it like they would any other food. And then he swallowed. Done. Done! He was doing it! He was being a Human Toilet! Oh fuck… he was being a Human Toilet!
Brickhouse groaned louder than before, his cheeks straining as his guts pushed. The feces were narrowing down. Then, with an almost comedic sound, the complete load plopped out of his anus, landing into Matt’s waiting throat just like the ones before it. Brickhouse heaved and moaned, his cock half-erect and balls pulsing slightly. Matt? He ate. He ate like he had before, swallowing the feces with an unsettling ease. How had the dick cheese been worse for him than literal shit?
Not a single peep came out of the worker as he stood up and pulled up his underwear alongside his pants. Matt stared in bewilderment and spoke as soon as the last chunky piece of shit was on its way down his digestive system.
“Uhh, don’t you need help cleaning up?”
“Cleaning up? And how? With TP? Wet wipes? With what would I wipe?” Brickhouse chuckled.
Good point. Matt hadn’t thought about that, and neither had he seen it on the rules plaque. Maybe it was so simple that they thought he’d think of it on his own? Maybe it wasn’t his problem? No, this was his job. He would do it.
“I can do it!”
“Huh? With what?”
“My… my tongue?” Matt said, sitting up and opening his mouth again.
“Ya tongue? Ya crazy! Ya aren’t coming anywhere near my ass! Besides, which man cleans his ass? Shit or not, that shit’s gay, and I’m no fairy,” Brickhouse scoffed and turned on his heel, tool belt in hand.
“But-” Matt started, but got cut off by his client promptly leaving the porta potty.
Damn. And he thought his big brother was nasty. Or his uncle. Well, they still were, but not to this extent. Oh well, he had done what he could. Now he had to process the fact he had just eaten a giant, cracking log of dry poop in three servings. He had eaten shit! He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel proud or disgusted with himself. More importantly, his stomach ached again. Fuck, this could not be healthy.
Checking his phone he could see he still had… fuck, he still had around three hours left of his shift. Presumably. He hadn’t been smart enough to ask.
“Hey! Patrick?” Matt hollered at the camera.
A few seconds passed before a voice echoed out of it.
“Heyo! We have a problem?”
“No, no, it’s just… how much until my shift ends?”
“Oh, uhh, let me check…” Patrick trailed off, the sounds of a keyboard taking over the feed. “Ah, there we go! Two hours, fifty-four minutes and six seconds to be exact! Anything else?”
“No! No, no… Thank you. See you in three hours,” Matt tried his best to smile at the camera.
“No problem! See you!” Patrick said cheerily before silence spread out in the cabin.
Three more hours. He had already had two revolutionary experiences today, he honestly wasn’t sure he could take any more.
But hey… life was about learning to go with the flow. Even if the flow was that of urine.
Double Trouble
Slowly, the end of Matt’s shift was approaching. Only about an hour left of this hellhole. Well, to his disbelief, despite everything he had gone through sounding horrible, it had actually been quite… manageable. Even his stomach had calmed down after that rather dry load of shit. He was a shit-eater now. An actual Human Toilet. He… What was he feeling? His emotions, despite all the alone time he had had, were all jumbled up. A shameful joy. Though no matter what he was thinking, it was pretty clear the people themselves weren’t too keen on this concept either. Yes, it was only a recently added position, so people were just getting used to it, but seeing the rather confused and, frankly, disgusted faces that both Pitstain and Brickhouse wore when they entered was a statement on its own.
While he had been left alone, he brushed off the hairs left behind on the bench by his previous visitor and sat down on it again. It felt dirty. But he himself felt dirty, so there wasn’t really much more to sully.
Footsteps. Crunch of gravel. Matt’s head whipped up in surprise. Yes, this was the same formula as before, but somebody went directly to this booth first. That was certainly new.
“Uhh, hello? Is this occupied?” said a more youthful, timid voice from the outside.
“Not occupied, no!” Matt replied with a jolt.
“So… So can I come in?”
“Yeah! Just open the door.”
With a slow, gentle movement the entrance creaked open. The orange rays of the setting sun shone around a shorter looking man. He looked about Matt’s age, maybe a tad older, but not by much. Unlike the other guys from before, his back was slightly hunched over, a pair of thick glasses sitting on his nose just above his cracked lips.
“Uhh, good evening. I, uhh… how does this work?”
“You can read the plaque on the wall for information,” Matt said, sitting down on the floor in preparation.
The newcomer’s eyes widened as he saw Matt move, but after clearing his throat, he started reading the guidelines with reddened cheeks. Matt himself was surprised at how used to this he was after only two tries. And a bit concerned too.
“I see… so, uhh…” the newcomer said again.
Smiling a bit at the shyness, Matt decided to take the reins here and direct his client a bit, saying, “What will it be? Number one or number two?”
“…Both.”
“Ah… Hmm… Well, you can start with number one and then we can deal with number two, okay? Here, I’ll put this away so you can pee in my mouth,” Matt said as he maneuvered the bench away, leaving the path to him unobstructed.
“Wow… you’re a real pro, aren’t you?” the guy said, his eyes basically sparkling.
“Not really, no… But that is not a discussion for our positions right now,” Matt suppressed the swelling pride in his chest with his professionalism.
“Yes! Let me just…”
Unzipping, the new guy pulled out a rather average looking penis. It certainly looked cleaner than the men’s before him, so that was a win. He got closer, cock in hand, but didn’t look very sure about what he was doing.
Matt didn’t try to respond, simply opened his mouth and looked at his client expectantly. He didn’t have to wait for long.
Despite the obvious initial hesitation, the stream came pretty quickly and quite powerfully too. Correcting his aim only a little, the newcomer pissed directly into Matt’s throat, who gulped it down dutifully. The second time and he was already quite good at keeping it down.
His mind started wandering as he wondered what he should call this new client. Maybe his nickname should have been tied to his eagerness to come to this stall? No, his youth might have been a better source for a name? Perhaps his timidness? Or maybe the way he was clutching at his guts, clearly needing to unload them soon.
Yet his reverie wasn’t long-lived as the door to the porta potty tore open. Another man appeared in the frame, stepping inside without so much as looking what was happening. Only when he turned around, did his brow furrow and his lips scowl.
“Rookie! The fuck are you doing here?” the man shouted.
“I’m just…” Rookie’s voice trailed off, before he found the courage to speak up again. “I’m just using the restroom, Boss! I’ll be done soon, I promise!”
“Yeah? So finish and go away! I need to shit,” Boss pointed at the still-open door.
“But Boss… I also need to go number two…”
With a frustrated groan, Boss rubbed his hand over his face and spat onto the drain. His saliva was thick and almost gooey.
“Then find another toilet, Rookie!” he said, already sounding a lot more resigned.
“But… But Boss… All the other stalls are out of commission already - they’re at their capacity.”
Ah… so Matt wasn’t the first choice for Rookie either. His inexplicable disappointment was mirrored in the Boss’ sigh, who finally closed the door behind himself. Only now did Matt get a proper look at him.
About the same age as Brickhouse, but wider. A LOT wider. The buttons on his shirt were swelling both around the chest and the belly, a mixture of fat and muscle poking through the openings. His face looked marred with wrinkles and grime, especially after his calloused hand smeared it all over. Inhaling sharply into his snout-like nose, he got closer and undid his own zipper.
Rookie had no choice but to scoot over to the wall as Boss practically pushed him away so that he could stand somewhat in the center in front of Matt. Out of the opening in his pants came quite an impressive cock - cut, girthy, and the longest one today. Matt only managed to catch a brief glimpse of the veins on it before a torrent sprung forth from it - powerful and almost steamy. It hit his lips, causing him to reposition and try to cause as little collateral damage as he could.
“Oi! I was still pissing!” Rookie protested meekly, his stream abruptly cut off.
“Then use it from there or go outside. I’m pissing now,” Boss hissed, looking straight ahead at the wall.
Wow… Matt was an ‘it’ now. It felt… weird. Almost insulting, but also somewhat comforting? Like he was fully disconnected from his real world identity. He was just a worker now, fulfilling his duty.
Boss, who Matt assumed was the foreman, hadn’t even read the rules, but didn’t seem at all affected by the current situation. In fact, he was so comfortable with it, he wasn’t even holding his own dick, letting Matt do the job of trying to predict where it would go. That actually got on Matthew’s nerves, since it meant he’d catch a lot of it with his face rather than mouth. Not very appealing despite his newfound indifference to human waste.
Before he realized it, a second stream joined in. Or, rather, rejoined. Rookie was pissing again from his place at the wall, trying his best to aim into Matt’s mouth. At least someone was putting in the effort.
Their full bladders were nearly emptied when Matthew saw Boss’ thighs clench up. A rumbling bass followed, going from loud to louder before petering out.
“Fuck. Hurry it up, Rookie, or I’ll have to shit all over the floor instead. And if I do, I’ll make sure you clean it afterwards!” Boss said, shaking his cock off, sending droplets everywhere.
“Yes, Boss!” Rookie whimpered and finished himself.
Before Matt could even take a breath, Boss was already turning around. His baggy work pants fell to his ankles alongside his gray briefs. Not even reaching for the bench, he pressed his massive behind back onto Matt’s face.
The weight was astounding. Yes, it looked big and muscular, but Matt hadn’t expected getting hit by it full force. Before he realized it, the back of his head was on the plastic floor, hairy cheeks bracketing his face while a brown pucker was firmly planted against his upper lip. A few dribbles of piss landed on his throat from the still leaking dick, just below the heavy and hairy nutsack resting on his chin.
It smelled absolutely disgusting. One could clearly tell this was the stink of a man who had worked all day and eaten food with more grease in it than there was in a fast-food restaurant’s fryer. At least the hairs sticking to Matt’s face didn’t seem filthy, so that was a small win.
While most of his sight was blocked by the giant mountain of a man practically sitting on top of him, he could at least see something. Like Boss’ massive legs around Matt’s waist, or the horrified expression on Rookie’s face.
“Fucking hell, open that piehole already!” Boss shouted, his voice directed straight at Matt.
Another fart escaped from his pucker, entering Matt’s nose directly. It was fouler than anything he had ever smelled, but it was clear in its messaging. The shit was ready to come out any minute now. Opening his mouth as wide as he could, he felt the sphincter descend slightly lower, directly into his cavity.
A single groan of relief was all the signal he got that it was time to eat. Boss unloaded a mass of goopy, mushy shit directly into Matt’s mouth. It clumped on his tongue, smearing all over his teeth and slowly stuffing his cheeks while he tried to chew and swallow it all. Some more got deposited in-between his lips, pushing the old shit down his throat whether he wanted to or not. He gulped it down as fast as he could, not even thinking of the taste for a single second.
“Boss, please…” a whimper came from the side, followed by a small toot.
“Wait! Or do it outside like a dog, for all I care. I’ll be finished soon,” Boss snapped back.
“Boss, but I really need to go… I don’t think I can even make it outside…” another whimper and a rather wet sounding fart.
“You’re an adult, Rookie! Control your bowels a bit!”
“Dad, please! I can’t hold it anymore!” Rookie raised his voice for the first time.
Matt looked over at Rookie in surprise, his mouth moving on autopilot while he processed this new information. This guy was?.. But they weren’t anything alike!
“Don’t call me that at work, Rookie!” Boss shouted back.
“Dad… please… I really can’t… oh… please…” Rookie got quieter with each word, his knees buckling a bit while he pressed one of his hands to his stomach, the other to his ass.
A soft sigh came from above, followed by a resigned gruffness, “Alright, alright, you big oaf. Get in here behind me.”
The ass planted on Matt’s mouth stopped depositing feces for a brief moment as it scooted lower, causing the balls which were previously on his chin to hang onto his throat. Considering they were touching his Adam’s apple, they must’ve been hanging quite low. But that wasn’t the important part, no. He finally had a chance to swallow the load in his mouth before more came his way. Just as he was almost done, Rookie managed to move over and pull down his own pair of pants and briefs, planting his bottom directly on Matt’s nose.
Rookie’s perineum pressed directly into Matt’s nose, clogging both of his nostrils while a big nutsack rested on one of his eyes. Fuck. He couldn’t breathe. Panic flared throughout his entire body, making him slap the bare ass that was making him suffocate.
“Squat a bit on your own, Rookie! You’ll choke it to death if you just sit on it, you dumbass!” Boss yelled.
“Sorry, Boss. Sorry, I just… oh… oh fu-” Rookie’s words got drowned out by a myriad of groans and moans.
Luckily, he had taken some of the weight off of Matt’s face, allowing ‘fresh’ air to finally flow towards him. Just in time too, as another mush of hot, steamy shit started pouring into Matt’s mouth - this time, from the other direction.
Boss didn’t say anything to that, proceeding to grunt on his own side of Matt’s mouth and adding the last of his bowel content in the mix too. Interestingly enough, Matt could not tell whose shit was whose. It was like they were identical - same texture, same taste, same smell. Even the volume that came into his melting pot of a mouth seemed to be identical from both asses. Was this true for everyone? Well, no, it couldn’t be. Brickhouse’s shit was a lot harder and a lot less flavorful than this pile. Though Matt preferred the lack of flavor.
It was hard to ignore the earthy, rotten and almost spoiled quality of the mess marinating in his mouth. No. No! He couldn’t think about it, or it’d make things worse! He simply had to swallow. All he had to do was chew it up and swallow. Nothing more to do for him except be a Toilet.
Thankfully, Boss’ reserves seemed to be empty first, making the rim of his hole pulse idly at Matt’s bottom lip. The volume of shit pouring into his mouth was now a lot more manageable, especially since Rookie didn’t have too much stored in his bowels to begin with. Soon, there were two winking holes left around his mouth, puffing small amounts of air onto his skin.
“What’s the hold up with the cleaning, toilet?! Work that tongue of yours already!” Boss yelled, once again, directly at Matt.
Cleaning? No one mentioned cleaning to be part of his duties. Brickhouse especially hadn’t expected any. And tongue? So Matt had been right? He really was just supposed to use his… his own tongue as toilet paper? Well… he had suggested it earlier, even if it was to a different. He simply had to… bite the bullet.
Taking a deep breath, he realized his mistake as he inhaled the direct scent of Rookie’s gooch, filling his lungs with sweat and grime instead of the courage he needed right now. His stomach started acting up too… fuck. Just… All he had to do was just… stick his tongue into a man’s ass… a man’s shitty, freshly stretched ass…
There was no courage to help with this. Only doing would alleviate the anxiety. So he did what was asked of him and stuck his tongue out, reaching the man’s skin. A slight tremor passed through the wrinkled, hairy cheeks when Matt started licking. Maybe it was the pure amount of shit he had eaten beforehand, but he couldn’t really taste anything. Not a single thing. He knew there was something he was licking, as small amounts of mush landed on his tongue and slid into his mouth, but they were completely tasteless. Just like if he were drinking water.
In almost no time at all, his tongue was licking all over the muscly ring, tonguing every crevice with an ease he had not expected.
“Get inside with your tongue too! I can feel some shit in there still…” Boss commanded, before trailing off with a moan.
The head of the dick which was touching Matt’s collarbone had lifted and the balls on his throat started pulsing - slowly, but surely. Doing as he was told, Matt stuck the tip of his wet tongue through the ring itself, tasting a man’s guts for the first time. Today was full of firsts, actually. He was just glad he managed to tackle most of them gracefully. As graceful as one could be as a Toilet, that is.
Boss had been right - there were a few leftover clumps at the edge of the rim from the inside, but that was pretty much it. Matt tried probing around a bit deeper, but he didn’t feel anything that felt dirty. Without a word, Boss stood up, causing Matt’s tongue to escape his rim with a wet plop. The muscled ring winked at him a few more times before being covered by hefty, dusty fabric.
“Finish up, Rookie. I have a scolding to give you,” Boss said with a rather unamused tone and practically kicked the door open.
When it closed, a timid voice echoed from above, before another pucker grazed against his still outstretched tongue.
“I’m sorry about my dad,” the apology nearly petered out before it hit Matt’s ears.
Even if he wanted to, Matt couldn’t respond. So instead he opted for getting this over with as quickly as possible. With the same technique, he managed to clean Rookie up quite fast. The poor young man ran off as quickly as he could, not even pulling his pants up fully.
The door clicked shut, and Matt was once again alone.
A trail of saliva running down his cheek, fighting its way through the many pubes and ass hairs left behind by his clients. The piss that had sprinkled onto him was mostly dried up already. He couldn’t believe it… He really had just taken two guys’ shit at once. AT ONCE. Not even a regular toilet could probably contain all that and then flush normally, let alone clean up not one, but two asses like he had. Once again, pride blossomed inside of him, and with it a certain sense of… belonging.
Cleaning Up
“Heyo!” Patrick opened the door to the porta potty.
Matt looked up at him, the sky outside so dim that the indoor light didn’t even turn off. At least his supervisor was looking presentable. Sleek and tidy just like when he had picked him up earlier in the day. Matt felt hesitant to approach him in his current… ‘state’. Yeah, he didn’t look that bad outside, but… there was three whole heaps of shit fermenting in his own guts right now - STRANGERS’ shit. Not even mentioning the piss.
“You good?” Patrick asked again when no response came.
“I… um… I’m fine, yeah. Do we… go now?” Matt struggled the response out of himself.
“We can. Mint?” Patrick said, taking a tin box out of his pocket.
“Oh, yeah… I might need more than one, though,” Matt let out a laugh, but it quickly lost its steam.
“For sure. Don’t worry, I know how bad Toilet breath can be,” Patrick smiled gently.
“I see…” for some reason, it was quite reassuring to hear that.
A few pill sized mints handed in Matt’s palm, the tin from whence they came returning to its rightful place in Patrick’s pocket. The fresh, icy feeling that spread through his mouth the instant they hit his tongue was surprisingly pleasant. While most of the aftertaste had faded, any traces of it were fully overshadowed by the mints now.
“Come on now,” Patrick said as he stepped next to Matt and snaked a hand around his waist.
The push was gentle, but unrelenting. They left the plastic interior and the fresh air inflamed the frozen treats on his tongue, causing quite a big explosion of senses for Matt. Only now did he truly realize how awful the air inside had been.
“Hey, you’re not even that dirty for someone who’s had his first day.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. Most of the Toilets I’ve seen managed to vomit on themselves when they got their first ass. Hell, some couldn’t even take piss. So you did very well, Matt, don’t worry,” Patrick smiled again.
“Thanks, Patrick.”
It felt nice walking through the construction site in the evening. So quiet, so peaceful and so expansive. Being cramped in a little plastic booth for hours was a lot more mentally grueling than he had expected.
Just as they were about to leave the site proper, Matt overheard two familiar voices nearby.
“Don’t call me ‘dad’ on site ever again, you hear me?” said the older, gruff voice.
“Yes, Boss…” came a meek reply.
“One more time and I fire your ass, got it?”
“Yes, Boss…”
“And do try to not share a toilet with me, alright? I’d rather not get your shit on my ass,” the voice sounded a lot closer now.
“Yes- oh!” a surprised yelp.
The two duos’ paths had met. Matt was standing straight like a lamp post, his pupils narrow and legs suddenly jelly. He was out here, as an actual person, looking at the two men who had emptied their guts into him just an hour prior. They looked so normal… just two ordinary, working men. Yet all Matt could think of was the fact he had seen their hairy asses and knew how every clump of their shit tasted.
“Gentlemen,” Patrick said, utterly calm.
“Hello, Mr. Creek,” Rookie chimed in quietly, before his gaze shifted over to Matt. “Hello. I’m sorry about befo- OW.”
Boss had roughly yanked at Rookie’s hair, pulling his head back, before speaking in a performatively pitying voice, “Oh, forgive him, you two. He’s a bit confused right now. All the new work is making his head all woozy.”
Rookie stayed silent, simply shooting his dad an apologetic look, which was met with a rather stern one.
“It’s quite alright, we understand. Have a nice rest of the night!” Patrick bowed his head a bit and continued with Matt at his side.
That was it. Nothing more to it. No weird looks. No shaming. No insults. It… it really was just a job… Huh…
The daze from the entire day just got worse from that; realizations and revelations piling up in Matt’s head - so much so, he didn’t even realize they were already at the car until Patrick was practically guiding him into the passenger seat.
It was quiet when Patrick got into the driver seat and the silence continued on into the drive itself. Not even the radio was on to break the mental storm in Matt’s head. Well, until Patrick decided to finally speak up.
“You sure you’re okay, Matt? You know you can talk to me if there’s a problem, right?”
Matt stayed silent, gathering his courage, before replying with a question himself, “Do Human Toilet stalls not have locks?”
Patrick frowned a bit, “No… They do not. Not yet at least. But trust me, we’ve been complaining about that for a while now. So hopefully the higher ups will listen soon. You’re not the only one bothered by this.”
“I see… Is it… Is it normal for two people to come in at once?”
“Well, not usually, no. Thought it does happen from time to time. I’ve seen full groups come in together as well. Honestly, poor Toilet, that can’t be easy on you people.”
“I see…” Matt trailed off.
Patrick hummed in acknowledgment and didn’t try to pry any further. Whether out of respect or out of lack of interest, Matt didn’t know and didn’t particularly care either. Not for now at least. There was a bigger hurdle ahead - one that he couldn’t verbalize, but could somehow pinpoint with great accuracy.
Just as short as the ride earlier, this one was also done in a matter of minutes. His house was in sight, the living room lights shining through the window. Just as he had promised, dad was home…
“Well, we’re here, Matt. See you next time, alright? Get some rest and… relax a bit. You did great,” Patrick shot him a smile.
Matt nodded almost imperceptibly and clambered out of the car. It drove off, leaving him alone on the street. One step… a second. Dammit, why was the door such a short distance away. He wasn’t ready for this.
One hand on the doorbell, he debated just unlocking the door himself, but his dad would probably get offended. He took a deep breath - the mints had already worn off, letting him taste a certain hint of feces and urine again. Great…
Ding dong.
Before the bell could even finishing ringing, muffled footsteps could already be heard on the wooden floor. Approaching.
“Matty! There’s my little worker bee!” his dad said, going for a hug.
Matt let it happen, his arms tense at his sides, awfully aware of the way he smelled. Aware of the waste on his clothes. Aware of just what was fermenting in his body. But his dad did not seem to mind one bit.
“Come on in, Matty. I made some Schnitzel for you. Just how you like it too!”
Taking a proper look at him, Matt could see that dad was in his jogging shoes. His polo shirt was sweated through and his hair stuck to his forehead. Poor guy couldn’t even shower, because he had had to prepare dinner for his son. This only made the dread building up in Matt worse.
“Thanks, dad. I’ll go take a shower first, okay?”
“Go ahead, champ,” dad said, giving him a firm pat on the back and closing the door behind them.
Rushing up the stairs, he got into the bathroom in a few seconds, closing the door and sinking onto the toilet seat. He had somehow made it without needing to go for his entire shift, but now that he was home? The need came back in a tidal wave. He felt his own hole open, and could only imagine what it would look like. Just the same as he had seen countless times today?
Log after log hit the water under him, but it wasn’t his waste - it was other people’s waste. Strangers’ waste. He was bringing the shit of others home, dirtying it all. Dirtying his dad’s toilet. Somehow, this was the worst thing out of the whole ordeal for him.
How could he face his dad as a shit eater? He had licked goop out of another man’s hairy anus, swiveled his tongue inside, and he was supposed to just smile at his dad like that?
Flushing the toilet, he stood in front of the sink and grabbed his toothbrush. A massive glob of paste landed on it before he vigorously scratched at his biters. Tore open a few of his gums too, he was sure, but that didn’t matter. He just had to get that awful smell out of there somehow. Two doses of mouthwash, gargling included, before he started taking off his clothes. Straight into the washing machine, not even the hamper. He couldn’t let them touch his dad’s clothes in there.
Getting into the shower, he lathered himself up in soap so much, the entire bar was nearly gone. And yet he still didn’t feel clean. No matter how much he scrubbed or rubbed or cleaned, it was still there. It FELT there. Like he couldn’t get it off of him.
Turning the water off, he stomped into his room, not even bothering to dry himself and threw himself onto his bed. Yeah, he’d get the sheets wet, but he didn’t care. He felt absolutely awful. It had finally dawned on him.
It wasn’t the actions themselves that made him feel bad - it was the fact he was so good at just accepting them. No self-respecting man would just let others piss and shit at them, right? No real man would do that… No marine’s son should be like that. But the problem was - Matt had just taken it. He had just accepted it as a fact and hadn’t even protested.
“Matty? Are you okay? The water turned off, but you still didn’t come down to eat. Is your stomach upset?” dad’s concerned voice echoed through the door before it opened.
Dad was never one to knock; well, not one to knock for Matt at least. His brothers always got at least two raps, but never him.
Matt looked at him from his sheets, splayed out naked on his bed, still dripping.
That didn’t stop dad from getting closer and aiming for another ruffle of hair, “What’s gotten you all naked, bud? Wanted to brag with your hairless butt? Make fun of daddy for being a gorilla, hm? Or maybe you’re remembering the good old times of when I used to throw us onto the bed after a shower? Need me to dress you again?”
Dad’s face appeared in Matt’s vision as he crouched down, a smile on his sweaty face.
“I’m okay, dad. Just wanted to lie down a bit. I’ll be down soon, okay? You go shower,” Matt smiled reassuringly.
“Oh? Should I stay naked too so we can match?”
“Very funny, dad. I’ll get dressed when I get up. I don’t need to see any more dicks today,” Matt said, before biting his tongue for voicing that out loud.
“You know what? Very fair. You probably had your fair share of man bod today,” dad nodded in an exaggeratedly sagely manner as he stood up.
Matt smiled seeing his dad take it lightly, but it still felt like a perverse admission. Especially when it came to saying this to his own father. The man who had raised him certainly didn’t want to hear about his son drowning in dick and man ass… and worse.
With a heavy sigh, he hefted himself up from the bed and walked to his closet, picking out some simple and comfortable clothes. Not too hot thought. The choice was easy enough, seeing how most of his outfits consisted entirely out of things like that. Putting it on haphazardly, he made his way downstairs.
To his surprise, he didn’t hear the shower running, and getting downstairs explained why. His dad was sitting on the couch, his shoes and socks under the table as his hand picked in-between his toes on his left foot. It was propped up on his right knee, giving Matt quite a view of the sweaty, calloused foot. The skin was shiny and wet, causing even the tearing parts of the skin to stick to his sole. Poor guy. He must’ve been really clammy.
Seeing his dad stare off into the nearby loveseat, Matt approached him instead of the kitchen.
“Why aren’t you showering?”
Angling his head backwards, dad grinned, “I was waiting for you. You know, we haven’t really spent much time together today, so I wanted to at least be there for your dinner.”
Pointing with his hand, dad indicated the alluring plate of schnitzel prepared neatly on the coffee table. Matt’s stomach growled in response, already begging for food. And Matt certainly wasn’t going to turn this offer down.
Plopping himself next to his dad, he pulled the plate onto his lap and went to town.
“There’s my Matty! You always liked my cooking, didn’t you? Eat up, champ, you deserve it. Do I dare ask how work was?”
Matt stopped for a bit, mulling his answer over before opting for the diplomatic response of, “It was… something. I managed to endure it somehow.”
“Well, that’s understandable. Nobody I know would enjoy what you do. But I’m proud of you for taking that task upon yourself and sticking to it. That’s my boy!” his dad put an arm around his shoulders.
Taking his foot off his thigh, he put both of his legs up on the now vacant space on the coffee table. Grabbing the remote laying next to him, he switched on the tele and sank into the backrest.
There was no need for further words. Not with dad. Matt let himself get coaxed into his father’s side, grazing his armpit with his hair. The smell was intense, but he didn’t mind it one bit and neither did his appetite. Unlike the other men he had experienced that day, this one smelled different. He smelled safe.
He smelled like home.
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