Like, it carries more narrative weight. Wetting yourself out of fear… that’s almost something that society jokes about. Like, it’s something you can laugh off. Kind of. Being under enough fear and stress to poop yourself… even if it’s only a little bit… it feels worse. It makes you wonder how this could happen. It feels more embarrassing, more childish, on top of whatever else you’re already dealing with.

Also it makes the aftermath hit harder.

“Look at me. No, I mean actually look at me. Meet my eyes. See, like that. Now, I’m sure you have a million arguments for me about why this is stupid and childish and why you’re a big dumb child. But I’ve already decided in advance that I’m not going to bother listening to them. No, shut it. You listen. No one gets through that completely unscathed. No one. You don’t get to hold this over your head when no one else could have “done better”. Now go get cleaned up, take a shower if you want, and we can watch a movie. But I don’t want you beating yourself up. Not tonight, not ever.”

I think you're right about that, it carries more weight - something must have been SERIOUSLY bad, gone really REALLY wrong, for this outcome to happen of all things... And YES to the aftermath too, gotta stop any spiralling before it can go too far or they'll never recover from the shame!

The entitlement, the rubbing of fabric you can't even afford against your nose, the contrast of someone so put together letting out enormous wet blasts that sound like he's seconds away from shitting his pants.

I need to be reprimanded for moving too much and then hear genuine disgust in his voice when he tries to hold me still by my hair because of how oily it is. I need him to act like I'm the gross one in this situation, like it doesn't matter how inhumane this is because clearly I'm used to degrading myself for others.

Buuuutttt…I know a lot of people don’t like the actual sight of waste and just like to leave sounds up to their imagination, so I decided to make a lil audio compilation! All credits go to that twit page, I just made a compilation with only audio. Hope you enjoy!

The page is DRjC7kenAAgIIOq on Twitter. Again, it’s all there, so if you don’t like visuals don’t look.

[ Below The Cut Warnings - THERE ARE NO VISUALS JUST A BLACK SCREEN, this is audio of a dude taking dumps for 5 minutes so WEAR HEADPHONES, eproctophilia, pooping (no smearing no eating), grunting/groaning, occasional plopping/crackling sounds if that bothers you ]

Once they get home, A unlocks the door letting B into their shared apartment, the noises of their tummy echoing off of the walls of the otherwise quiet apartment. It didn't take a doctor to know that B's belly was brewing up something fierce. "Hey B, how about we try some belly rubs? I think it'll help soothe the pain." A supplies, guiding B over to their couch. "Yes, p-please." B responds, laying down on their couch, stomach cramping like a motherfucker. "Alright, first things first, how about we unbutton these-" A undoes the buttons and zipper on B's pants, causing a moan of relief from the sickee. "Okay, 'M gonna need you to do me a favor. I just need you to sit up so you can lay on my lap. Can you do that?" B nods, sitting up slowly as to not disturb their stomach even more. Quickly sitting down, A guides B's top half to lay back on their lap.

Placing a hand on B's stomach, A gasps at how hard their stomach is. The gas and food was really packing in heavy, causing B's distress. Rubbing A's stomach, almost immediately feeling their guts churning. "F-feels good." B says, face still scrunched up in discomfort but a lot less than earlier. On a particular spot, B's insides bubble harshly, vibrating A's hand. "O-oh-" B says before letting out a long airy fart, that lasted about 10 seconds. B practically melts at how good it felt. "That feel good?" A asks, smirking slightly as their hand worked their magic. "Felt amazing. And there's definitely more where that came from if you keep moving your hand like that." B comments, already feeling more air ready to be expelled from their ass. "Good. Let it all out for me." A says, rubbing and kneading their stomach. B continued to let out more farts, and they increasingly got bubblier and wetter.

~scat under the cut~

Kidnapper kneels down and undoes FC’s belt. Each button on their shirt is popped open until their round, warm gut is exposed to the cool air. Sweat trails along the curve of FC’s tummy as the cramps seize them over and over. They bear down instinctively to no avail. Kidnapper prods the taut skin thoughtfully, then places their palm just over FC’s navel with a chuckle.

“It’s just trapped gas. This is going to hurt but you’ll feel better after.”

“Wait, no- don’t!”

Kidnapper thrusts their palm into FC’s tortured gut. The pain is explosive and FC cries out, lunging forward til their face is centimeters from Kidnapper’s. A high-pitched fart whistles from FC’s hole and swells into a deep rumbling. Their guttural yell softens into a moan. Days’ worth of pent up gas is forcefully expelled from them and, with their composure lost in the relief and pleasure, they press their forehead into the crook of Kidnapper’s neck.

The palm presses deeper and deeper into their gut as the fart drones on and vibrates against FC’s chair. Kidnapper can feel FC’s abdominal muscles trembling. They retract their hand for a moment to allow FC to catch their breath before placing both hands on either side of their now gurgling gut and pressing in and downwards. FC’s ass sputters out another impossibly long, ear-ringing fart, and the process continues. Gas thunders out while FC, so whiny and needy for relief, moans and whimpers into kidnapper’s neck.

Needing an ultrasound and having that warm jelly spread gently around their packed belly

Having their gurgles listened to through a stethoscope while their gut is palpitated

Massages given with such expertise and knowledge of the digestive system that the shit/trapped gas is literally being guided out

Getting some sort of general abdominal exam and accidentally farting when the doctor pushes their belly

Being shown an x-ray (?? idk im not a doctor) that shows them exactly how much shit is built up in their belly

Using formal terminology like colon, rectum, anus, feces, bowel movement, and flatulence

Or the complete opposite where the medics use words like tummy, poop, and bum to try to be more casual and relax their patient. Bonus points if the patient is normally very uptight and mature, and being spoken to that way makes the whole situation even more humiliating.

Having their feet put in stir-ups so their most private parts are completely exposed while they shit with a captive audience

Not being able to get out of bed for whatever reason and reluctantly using their diaper

Being lubed up and having parts of their shit manually worked out with gloved fingers

Going to a hospital with the worst cramps of their life only to be told that what feels like a serious issue is just trapped gas. They don’t believe it until their taut belly is massaged and the loudest, longest fart of their life is embarrassingly forced out

The situation being sort of like giving birth when a constipated patient finally starts pushing it out. Hands held, forehead wiped with a cool towel, reminders to breath, getting told when to push, etc.

Receiving an enema or suppository and having their cheeks held together for them after they start begging for relief too soon before they’re allowed to noisily release into a bedpan

I read about some guy on TIFU who had to get an air enema to rid himself of a fecal impaction and he could see his gut swelling while he was restrained on an exam table so yeah that situation, too 👀👀

“You’re an adult now, about to graduate even. Surely you can hold it!”

“You really should’ve managed your time better. Tch, tch, tch.”

Students have had accidents in their class. They’ve caused the sounds of shit crackling and farts vibrating against plastic seats. The hiss and patter of urine on linoleum. Too bad for them. They get the sense the students despise them for it, but they’re not there to make friends but to teach and instill discipline.

Then one morning they drive into the school parking lot with their stomach making noises like a mournful whale. There’s no time to visit the bathroom and relieve themselves of the pressure swelling their gut without being late for their first period.

With all that pressure, the farts are loud and forceful. You vary the sounds of their gas by playing with their cheeks. Hold them open for airy, gushing bursts while they grind their gut into your legs. Clamp their cheeks together and make them squeak out.

And when the first log starts to stretch their hole, you rub their back and coo lovingly to them as they whimper. Maybe run your fingers gently through their hair or along their scalp. The thick turd thumps onto the floor and you can feel their belly tensing and pushing against you as they squeeze out the next one. It crackles as it slides out with little pops of gas. They sigh as it drops.

Rocking against your legs, they try to coax the rest out and are rewarded with a warbling fart that comes to a sudden end when it launches another log part way out of their hole, plugging any room for gas to escape. They groan as they strain and gravity draws out a long shit that only breaks off once the tip touches the floor. Just when you think there couldn’t possibly be anything left inside, gas loudly shifts around their belly and thunders out.

There’s a sheen of sweat on their trembling body and they lay there, catching their breath and basking in relief. It’s an exhausting ordeal, and you’re not going to let them clean up alone. You tear off some tissue and lovingly wipe between their cheeks for them.

They gingerly raise themselves off you, looking a lot less pregnant, and when you’re done disposing of the mess, you cuddle on the couch and praise them for how well they did.

The day of the presentations, B adds a generous helping of inulin to their burritos and places them in the fridge for A who chows down greedily. B's presentation goes smoothly and the boss is pleased. A steps up to the front of the room. They're not their usual, over-confident self. They stammer their way through the slides, sweating more and more with each loud tummy gurgle.

Halfway through their Powerpoint a deep, bubbly fart uncontrollably rumbles past their cheeks. They white knuckle the podium, clenching and tensing their body to gain control but it's no use. Fart after fart trumpets out of them.

when they finally get the chance, they hurry to the bathroom. their guts are burbling and small, urgent farts are popping out involuntary. sweat dampens their forehead and they let out a shaky sigh of relief once the porcelain seat is in sight.

phew, they made it in time. that was close. just have to get their belt off… that damn, finicky belt. they dance around in front of the toilet, trembling hands pawing frantically at the metal and leather. soft shit oozes out and they let out a desperate whine. the belt comes undone with a clink and they can’t believe it when their zipper gets caught.

they’re whimpering and begging as their eyes tear up. nononono please NO! oh god help, please i- i can’t hold it. it’s coming out, no please, plea- shit spurts and bubbles out from between their cheeks. with a frustrated cry, they stop yanking at the zipper and clutch the sides of their ass. it’s no use fighting now. their muscles relax against their will and the short bursts of shit grow into an absolute mudslide. if someone clueless about the situation were there to listen they’d think someone was blowing into a straw to make bubbles in their drink.