This account contains both pee and scat content used in the degradation of a female University student (Me). If this is not your thing please do not read any further and have a look at my other accounts.
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Luv Rachel xx
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I was acutely aware that anything to do with excrement was regarded as a very specialist, mostly repugnant and highly unusual subject. I am not sure when I first discovered the word 'Fetish', but it was certainly late in my degree course. To later find that many men, often secretly, harbour a fetish for hard human waste was a huge surprise.
When I had experimented with Scat on my own, I thought that once I had accomplished anything asked of me, that would be it - a one-off encounter. I did not know that nearly twenty years later, I would look back to a time when I would gain the title Scatess! Nor did I even imagine that playing such dirty and disgusting games would be a regular request from guys meeting me. Neither had I heard of such things as 'Scat Fests' to which I would have often received invitations.
After my initial practices and introduction to all things brown, smelly, and filthy, I met with three young men who wanted to help me understand human toiletries.
Taking pee was relatively straightforward, and its warm flow even had a sort of hypnotic effect. Opening my mouth, allowing a direct stream to enter and fill the cavity until it flowed out and down my breasts took a little longer to achieve.
During these 'practice' sessions, I observed that the cocks of my three male friends were always ramrod straight and rock hard as they urinated on me or squatted to use me in a harder way.
I had previously summoned up the courage to drink my own pee in the privacy of my room. I decided, though, that I needed somehow to be brave enough to swallow someone else's pee coming directly from its source into my mouth. I knew that such a dramatic act would appear most impressive and result in perhaps even bigger, stronger and longer hard-ons. I did not, however, initially want to try 'direct drinking' and fail miserably before my three friends.
One day, I asked the one young man in whose presence I felt most confident if he would somehow provide me with a small bottle of his urine. He looked at me quizzically but thankfully agreed without asking too many questions. Early in the evening, he knocked on my door and handed me a plastic bottle filled with warm, yellow fluid.
I am sure he expected to be invited in, perhaps for some sexual play, but on this occasion, I was not willing to thank him in the way he possibly expected. What I was about to attempt, I had to do alone, in private. I did not want to look stupid before others when it went wrong, and I gagged or worse vomited due to my escapade.
As soon as I had closed the door, I poured half a glassful from the contents of the bottle. I was glad it was still warm. The thought of attempting to drink cold pee, I knew, would make what I wanted to do a lot harder. I lifted the glass to my lips and tentatively put my tongue into the yellow substance. It tasted odd but strangely similar to my own.
Bravely, I stood a swig and, closing my mouth, swilled the liquid around, trying to get my taste buds to tell me this was a good and pleasant thing to do. Sadly, my senses have never quite responded so positively.
Eventually, I swallowed hard, and the contents of my mouth were gone, leaving just the bitter, slightly burning sensation behind, arousing some protests from my taste buds. I expected to gag somehow, but strangely, my first glassful of someone else's pee went down like nectar. About two minutes later, as I was smiling to myself and wondering if I would be sick, I let out a rather embarrassing and incredibly loud burp. I was relieved to be alone!
My friends were mightily impressed at our next session when I sat in the bath, mouth open to take their yellow stream like a urinal, and suddenly swallowed a mouthful of piss. It took them a few moments to comprehend what I had done.
Another hurdle had been successfully negotiated in my strange desire to accommodate the wishes of a few male students in becoming their so-called toilet tart.
I discovered that I needed to be in the right mindset to play toilet games to the full. Sometimes I had called off a session, much to the disappointment of my male friends, when I felt I could not go through with using their harder supplies.
When I was alone in my room and first thinking of playing in such a way, I used my own shit - what I had produced. I knew where it had come from and, in all probability, what food had created it. Now trying out other peoples was a whole new ballgame.
During these practice sessions, I learned how to receive and smear my friends scat over my naked body. I had knelt with my hands cupped as the lads had squatted and delivered directly into my open palms. They had encouraged me to rub the more sticky varieties across my breasts, into my bum crack and to smear it around my pussy.
As I had hesitatingly completed each task, I had observed ball sacks becoming smaller and taught and cocks stiffer in response to my self humiliations. Finally, I plucked up enough courage to take a rather sticky turd and place it on my head. With much encouragement, I then rubbed it somewhat cautiously through my long hair. This action excited my friends greatly, as they insisted I take another squidgy lump and do the job correctly, so that I had fully coated my hair with a liberal supply of sticky brown human faeces.
Once again, although not pleasant to me, the results were very pleasing to the men as instant, solid erections resulted.
About six months after my first introduction to being used as a full-on group toilet and following several rather interesting, informative and messy practice runs with my three friends, I felt confident enough to engage further with a larger group of fellow students.
Several male students had expressed interest to me and my close network of friends in my partaking in another Forced Fantasy adventure. Some of the guys had played a similar role with me previously over an entire day. Despite my initial reservations about engaging in such an event, we had all had an exciting time. I had been exceptionally pleased that the guys involved had regularly told me, subsequently, how well they thought I had played my role as an unwilling victim.
Now, ten guys, including three from my initial group, were asking if I was willing to reprise my role, not just for one day. These men wanted me for a weekend, from Friday night to Sunday evening. It was a tall order for me to sacrifice all that time from writing up my various assignments and engage in another fantasy for primarily the pleasure of others. I knew that accepting the request would result in me being stripped naked, abused and fucked almost senseless without mercy for nearly forty-eight hours.
During the rather intensive planning meetings, one of my friends asked if I could allow a Scat session. I deflected further discussion of the subject, knowing that this was something I had to think seriously about. It was something I was still very unsure about pursuing.
The next time we met, attempting to bring my reservations and the men's desires for the weekend together, the subject of Scat was once again raised. This time, five of the guys told me how hot they thought the experience would be if I allowed a forced toilet scene. The other students joining for the weekend seemed more reluctant, but added that they would too if I were happy to give it a go. The decision was therefore made on my behalf. I knew that I had to run with it, and, however messy and dirty that part of the fantasy would be, I would play my role to the full.
I should have asked just what my would-be abusers had planned. That question, however, never crossed my mind as I expected it to be something similar to what I had coped with on my first group introduction to this rather vile and degrading fetish. I am glad I did not delve further, as I am sure I would have refused what the young men were desirous of undertaking with me.
It was halfway through the weekends, rough and ready activities that the group suddenly introduced the sticky, smelly aspect I had taken so long to approve. I had already suffered the indignity of having variously designed bottles, vegetables and other suitably shaped items thrust deep into my vagina and rectum, stretching me to the limit. After also enduring being stripped, inspected, slapped and shagged mercilessly, I was suddenly dragged, by my hair, into a bathroom and dumped into an empty bath.
I was unaware of what was to occur until one of the men enjoying the time using me stated, 'Let's make the bitch work as our shit whore.'
With that, a bucket appeared and was placed in the bath next to me. One look told me that it was packed to within a few inches of the top with shit. It stank.
'Prepare that for our use bitch, ' I was ordered. Otherwise, you get this.' A leather belt was flicked in my direction. 'It's up to you.'
I knew the belt would hurt, and I was also aware that in all probability, whatever I did now, the belt would be used later on, regardless. I decided, though, to comply.
'Mix that bucket until it's all a nice gooey paste, ' I was ordered.
I looked up aghast. 'What with?' I questioned unbelievingly.
'What do you think, you dumb slut. Your hands!'
My eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
'Put your fucking hands into the fucking bucket and mix the fucking contents until it's a nice fucking paste. If you need any fluid to assist you, we will provide it.'
I had previously played with my shit and also that of my three friends. In my wildest and dirtiest dreams, I had not contemplated having to mix nearly a whole bucket of other people's waste, especially while naked and at the total mercy of my captors.
I had no choice, so much to the amazement of those watching, I plunged my hands recklessly into the bucket with its smelly contents and commenced squeezing the turds through my fingers. It was just like pressing mud, except it was a lot smellier.
'Faster Slut!' I was ordered as the belt struck my back lightly to remind me that I could expect no mercy.
'Ugh, she's doing it, ' one of the young men said in surprise, 'how could she?'
I could not answer that one myself as I worked away with my arms buried up to my elbows in the bucket. The smell was awful. One of the boys kindly assisted me by adding his pee to the concoction. His intervention helped me turn the contents into a paste as I continued to work under the watchful eye of those enjoying the spectacle.
On the occasions that I looked up, I could see that my humiliation was a massive turn on to all watching lustfully as I complied with their demands. Cocks were out. They were hard and being wanked steadily in response to my predicament.
Finally, with the help of more warm pee, I had worked the bucket into a thick but runny consistency akin to porridge. I confess, I was delighted with my efforts but also relieved to have concluded this vile degradation. Someone lifted the bucket out of the bath as I remained sitting with a shitty paste coating my arms and dribbling onto my thighs.
To my absolute astonishment, a second bucket appeared just as full as the first had been.
'Continue, ' was the only word spoken, as I looked up in wide-eyed surprise from my empty bath.
I took a deep breath and plunged my arms into the second bucket to continue my dirty work of self-humiliation.
'Stand up, ' someone close to me ordered in an authoritative voice. I stopped my mixing and obediently stood to receive a hard slap across my naked bum.
'You're going much too slow; work faster.'
I did.
My hands plied the bucket's contents into a paste, as though they were making bread dough or crumble topping. When the men observed that the concoction was too dry, a fresh application of warm, wet piss made the contents runnier and more workable.
I continued to mash and mush while the guys wanked and occasionally fired a load of warm sticky cum in the direction of my face and hair.
Finally, after another long and agonising ten minutes, I had completed bucket number two. Once again, I breathed a sigh of relief, hoping against hope that a third bucket would not materialise. It didn't.
The shower was turned on and held so that I could clean my filthy Scat-covered arms under its surprisingly warm flow. I was mighty glad to have succeeded in this task. To me, it was undoubtedly the most degrading thing I had undertaken to that point. I now wondered what sexual perversion the men would continue to carry out as they enacted their fantasy roles of abductors and rapists with me as their unwilling captive.
Once I had cleaned myself up, my wrists were bound to my ankles while I remained seated in the bath.
'Is the fucking dirty bitch ready?' I heard someone ask.
'Yes, ' the one who had just bound my arms responded almost gleefully.
Another of the men in the bathroom put on a long rubber glove. It protected his arm right above his elbow. He then moved behind me and, grabbing my hair, pulled it violently down so that I had no choice but to look up.
I was horrified to see one of the buckets held about a foot above my head. Surely these young men had not forced me to prepare the contents of the buckets in such a degrading way to be used for my further total humiliation?
They had indeed! And I was about to experience the full impact of my own work.
'Open your dirty gob, bitch, ' I was ordered.
I knew that this was one command I would not be able to obey, no matter how hard I was smacked or whipped. The guys, to their credit, knew it too.
I watched as the bucket tipped all the time, believing that it would be righted before the contents commenced to fall on my naked body. Suddenly, the thick brown sticky substance started to pour out onto me.
I took a quick deep breath and closed my eyes just as the first dollop landed on my forehead. I could feel more and more of the noxious substance landing on my face and running over my head and down my neck to reach my breasts. I knew I was being turned into a brown, smelly, vile creature.
The awful realisation of what was happening to me for the first time started to make the area between my parted thighs strangely damp. This reaction had never occurred in my previous practice attempts at incorporating such humiliation into my sexual play.
By the time the first of the mess from the bucket had slithered down to my pussy it was already very moist from its internal source. I was, in one way, deeply ashamed at allowing myself to be treated in such a filthy and subhuman way. On the other hand, I knew that I was finding my first time used as a full-on toilet strangely erotic.
Many different sensations ran through my body and around my head. The thick brown effluent slowly flowed from the bucket over my hair and down my body.
Eventually, I realised that the first bucket was empty. I sensed through my tightly shut eyes that the guys were changing positions. The man holding my hair in his gloved hand pulled even harder, causing me to gasp and turn my face even higher to face the second bucket that was tipping in my direction.
As I gasped, small amounts of the dreadful concoction I had earlier prepared seeped through my lips. It was a horrendous, sickly-tasting experience. What made it worse was knowing that at that second, more sticky shit was being poured over my usually pretty face and running through my long brown hair and down over my naked body.
Finally, the contents of the second bucket had joined those of the first in almost totally plastering me from head to toe.
'That is so hot, ' one of the guys exclaimed as if speaking collectively for them all.
I must indeed have been some sight to the ten young men crowded into the bathroom observing and admiring the look of their naked captive sitting in the bath, bound and covered in their shit.
'What do we do now?' the one still pulling my hair asked.
'Let's stick one of the buckets over Shitsluts' fucking dirty head. It will remind her to obey us until we decide to let her go.'
I immediately felt a bucket rest on the top of my head and shoulders.
'Leave her like that for a little, ' another suggested.
'Maybe we should take some photos to pass around to those who know her. Then they would know just what a filthy piece of shit she is?' another interjected.
There was, I could hear, a broad ripple of laughter to this suggestion.
Despite still having my eyes and mouth tightly shut and the bucket sitting on my head, I could hear my tormentors leaving the bathroom until I was pretty sure I was alone in my darkened and dirty world. I wondered just what some of the lads at the university would think of me if they could see me in this condition. What would my mother and father think?
I lost track of time sitting uncomfortably on the hard surface of the bottom of the bath. I knew that the stink that was me was becoming quite nauseous as I waited for my release. Eventually, I heard people entering the bathroom again. To my great relief, my hands and ankles were unbound, and the dirty bucket was removed.
'Stand up, ' I was ordered, 'and ensure every bit of you that is white turns brown. Cover yourself in our shit, you whore!'
I cautiously opened my eyes and, looking down, saw that my body was almost totally brown. The guys had done an excellent job. I scooped a handful of excrement from the bath and commenced filling in the few areas they had missed.
'Put more on your head, ' the leader commanded, 'rub it through your hair, lots of it.'
I somehow managed to apply two more handfuls on my head and rubbed them vigorously through my hair.
'Now rub it over your face. We want to see it in your ears, around your mouth and up your nose. Don't stop until we say.'
Many people have kindly commented through the years about what an attractive face I possess and what a delightful smile I can give. I still say my face is average. However, I do enjoy smiling, as I feel it brightens people's lives. Over the years, many guys have delighted in turning my two most appealing virtues into shameful, demeaning images.
I continued rubbing the scat paste over my forehead, in circular motions around my cheeks, and over my tightly shut mouth. I tried hard to avoid putting any up my nose.
This action was obviously a major turn on as the lads encouraged me by saying, 'Keep going, you filthy vermin.'
I cannot rightly say how long I had to endure this self-shaming action. It was at least fifteen minutes,, but may have lasted half an hour.
'Now play with yourself.'
I dared not speak an answer for fear of ingesting more of the shitty substance coating my head and body.
'Rub your ABC for us, ' I was instructed, 'Arse, Breasts and Cunt!'
I immediately obeyed, hoping that my compliance would help bring the most unpleasant condition I was experiencing to a swift end.
I commenced rubbing my tits and cunt with my hands. Unfortunately, for me, this was just the stimulus that my very damp clit required to become almost a torrent of watery discharge that was not missed by those looking on.
'She's pissing herself for us, ' one commented with evident excitement.
'She's not that's not pee; it's from her dirty cunt. It's telling us that this slut is enjoying herself too much.'
'You mean she's getting off on shit.'
'Yes, absolutely. She really is a Shitslut.'
As I continued to rub my breasts and cunt I knew what was happening. I tried to control it and run my thoughts to anything away from my current condition. Nothing, though, was going to stop my body from involuntarily responding. The excitement of my predicament and my added self-stimulation was taking me over the edge.
I began to shudder, moan, groan and breathe quickly and heavily as wave after wave of uncontrollable joy swept through my trembling body. I was orgasming standing in the bath, covered in shit and totally humiliated.
'Fuck me, look at her, ' one of the guys said.
'What a dirty cunt, ' another added.
'She gets off on shit? I don't believe it.’ A third interjected.
'Keep rubbing, ' I was ordered as I temporarily stopped to enjoy the thrill.
'Don't forget your arse. Rub that too. Turn round so we can see.'
I did so.
'Stick your finger right up your shitter.'
Once again, I obeyed.
'Fuck me, this fucking stinking bitch is so filthy she's fucking sizzling!'
'Right, let's clean her up and then punish her for being so obscene, ' I heard another voice say.
I was made to kneel in the bath, and as I did so, the unmistakable feeling and smell of fresh warm piss streamed over my body.
'Wash, ' was the one word of command I heard.
As the torrent moved from my face to my tits and back, I attempted to clean myself from the shitty coating I was wearing. As soon as one pee source died away, it seemed another took their place to provide me with a constant supply of warm, smelly urine in which to wash.
After the third golden shower, I dared to finally open my eyes for the first time since ensuring I was completely brown. As I focused, I realised that all the guys, using me that day as their whore, were standing in line, manhood in hand, waiting to assist in the cleanup operation.
Finally, little by little, the caked layer of human waste was replaced by my pale and pinky-looking skin. I could not say I was disappointed.
When the men had emptied their bladders over my head and body, I was allowed a proper bath with warm water. I had never enjoyed the comfort and privilege of such an everyday luxury as much as I did on this occasion. Under the watchful gaze of my tormentors, I washed, scrubbed and cleaned my body and hair from the filth that had coated it.
It took three baths full of water and a bottle of shampoo until I was once again free of the vile contamination. I knew that other events in this forced fantasy weekend still awaited me. I would still have to provide full access to all my holes, as I had already done that day. I knew that I might also have to feel the pain of the belt at some point, whipping my prone, naked body.
However, I had endured and survived my first experience of being dominated, degraded and humiliated as a human toilet. I felt that after that, I could do just about anything! The young men who had organised the weekend and the Scat encounter that I had braved thought so too. There were several other similar encounters I was asked to undergo before I finally graduated.
These occasions were not without their benefits, though. As a result of this experience, I never had to pay a penny if I was ever eating with any of these ten guys. I also received sizable gift cards over time from the majority. These helped keep my wardrobe full and exciting for both myself and others!