Diagnosing a Fetish Ch. 02

The question now was what to do next. If running from my problems didn't help, the only logical next step was to face them. Although this was easy to say, putting it into practice was much more difficult. Truthfully, I didn't even know where to start; my apartment's crushing emptiness and disarray made me want to avoid it all costs. I had no energy to deal with the filth that weeks of depression left behind, and it only continued to pile up.

Unfortunately, the only thing that brought me pleasure anymore was my stupid obsession with shit and piss -- it was like I was a toddler. Worse than that, indulging in them gave me a tiny hint of happiness during the process, but exponentially more fear, depression, and emptiness afterward. So I was stuck in a cycle of trying to make myself happy and, in turn, making everything worse. As a result, my life felt pointless. It was an endless loop that I was stuck running around because of my stupid behavior.

"No," my voice echoed out. It felt good to speak, to break the imposing silence. I was sick of pitying myself. I was sick of feeling bad for every decision I made, for rethinking everything. It was something Dave forced into me while still with him, and I was over it; I wasn't giving that bastard anymore. It was time that I acted like an adult and moved on with my life, starting with that memory stick. I was going to suck it up, go back to my apartment, and watch the videos that Dr. Morse gave me. And, when I was done, I wasn't going to feel bad about it.

Picking myself off the bench, I rubbed my hands together, trying to warm them up before beginning my walk home. I was cold but feeling ever so slightly better about my situation, and that was enough to keep me going. I managed to jog again, too, although I didn't even make it back to the intersection before I was out of breath and tired -- some personal introspective wasn't enough to get rid of a nasty hangover. Regardless, I made good pace walking and was soon approaching the park. However, it seemed the mother and her children had since left, the playground empty.

Trying not to notice the uncomfortable silence, I carried on until reaching the main road. I was truly cold now as the wind picked up, leaving me to travel the rest of the way to my apartment in an awkward half walk, half jog. It got me there faster but did little to warm me up. Fortunately, the building's lobby was heated, allowing me to take a second and shake off the frigid late-autumn air. In the small chance that I ever did that again, I would surely remember to bring a jacket. Lucky for me, it wasn't long before I felt my body temperature was more or less back to normal.

"Mallory? You must be freezing." Just as I was about to go upstairs, the voice stopped me. I turned to find my neighbor -- Kat -- just coming in the door of the building. "Would you mind helping me for a sec?" she continued, struggling with the bags of groceries that filled her hands.

"Um," I paused, trying to discreetly shake off my hangover and appear like a normal, functioning member of society, "Yeah, no problem." Walking towards her, I held out my hands and took the two bags given to me. She rearranged what remained so we were both comfortably carrying the load between us.

"Thanks, I probably should've taken two trips, but who has the time?" Kat joked, "After you."

"Oh, it's fine," I led the way, turning down the hall and beginning up the stairs, "I just came back from a walk. Other than that, I don't have much going on today."

"Still not back at work then?"

"No, um... not yet."

"Don't worry about it. It's better not to throw yourself into something when you're not one-hundred percent ready to deal with it," Kat exclaimed, squeezing past me as I held the stairwell door, "And if you're worried about rent, just let me know; I'll talk to the landlords for you."

It was never my intention, but Kat was one of the first people who found out about my divorce. I hadn't known her prior to moving into the building, but my first night here was a rough one. Upon finding me crying in the hall with my suitcase after the moving crew left, she helped me get calmed down and settled. After that, we talked for a while in my apartment, mainly about Kat and what was happening in her life. I learned that she was a little younger than me and that her family moved to Ohio from Spain when she was three, though I couldn't remember where she said she was from in Spain. Now she worked from home as a software engineer, living alone in her apartment. Regardless, at the time, it was nice to think about someone else's life and forget that mine was crumbling around me.

We hadn't talked much since, which I regretted, her being one of the only people I could almost classify as a friend and all. However, the awkward foundation on which our relationship was built had always made me a little trepidatious in developing something deeper. She was always respectful and avoided anything that might make me uncomfortable, but I still didn't want to take the chance. So, we interacted little outside of friendly greetings in the hall or her sending over the odd baked good.

"You're still doing the same thing?"

"I'm sorry?" Kat turned to me while fishing her keys from her pocket.

"I... I just asked if you were still working," I mumbled.

"Oh, yeah," she smiled, finding the key and inserting it in the lock, "Still doing that fun stuff." Opening the door to her apartment, Kat kicked off her shoes while simultaneously trying to re-pocket her keys. I timidly followed her inside, setting the bags of groceries alongside hers on the kitchen counter. "Would you like to stay for a bit? Maybe have some coffee while you warm up?"

I could feel my muscles tense as she posed the question; I was afraid something like this might happen. But, not wanting to be rude, I considered her proposition before remembering the flash drive currently plugged into my laptop. "I, ah... I have something I have to do right now," I pointed over my shoulder, "I'm sorry, I've kind of been all over the place trying to figure stuff out, and I think I might have found something that could help." I tried my best not to sound like I was coming up with excuses, but it was difficult to do so while remaining vague.

"OK, no problem," she followed me to the door of her apartment, hanging back as I left into the hallway, "Maybe some other time."

"Yeah, some other time," I agreed, searching for my own keys.

"Mallory?"

"Yeah?"

"If you ever need to talk or something, just come over. I can be about anything, y'know? I just... I want to make sure you're doing OK, is all," Kat flashed me a nervous smile.

"Um, yeah. Of course." I could feel my face burning as a flush took it over. I tried my best to hide it, looking down at my apartment's doorknob as I unlocked it. "I'll see you later," I let out a breath as I slinked inside my apartment, not waiting for a response. It felt shitty, but I didn't know how to reply to Kat's request. I tried not to think about it anymore as, for right now, I had more important things waiting for me in the next room.

Nervously shuffling through my apartment as to delay the inevitable for as long as I could, I entered my dim, dirty bedroom once more. My laptop still on my bed where I left it, I crawled in under the covers and set it on my lap. The screen flickered and came to life, save for the chipped corner on which it landed. Any confidence I had was gone upon contents of the memory stick still open on the computer, the ten videos almost taunting me.

"OK," I let out a long breath, sinking deeper into my bed, "You can do this." The pep talk was hollow and unenthusiastic. I was still stuck somewhere between needing to watch the video and being desperately terrified of what may happen if I did. My mouse hovered over the first file and, based on the progress bar; I could tell that I had gotten through five minutes of it last night before passing out. I remembered the start of it, the woman on the floor of her bathroom, the pee surrounding her legs as she released her bladder.

No, not that one. If I was going to do this, it needed to be something new. The few memories I had of that video were too damaging to let me watch it again. As a result, I moved my mouse to the next file. This video was shorter -- only ten minutes. I psyched myself up one last time before double-clicking on it; my breath stuck in my throat as the screen turned black before the recording started playing. Like the previous video, this one was in a bathroom with a woman kneeling in her tub.

"Hello everyone," the woman's voice was little more than a whisper, "I hope you are ready for another of my always amazing shows."

Her head was just out of frame, cut off above the neck. Brunette hair covered her shoulders and rested around her breasts, the latter full and perky but not too large on her small frame. I tried not to fight the temptation as I let a hand fall between my legs, pushing past the waistband of my yoga pants as the woman turned around. In this position, I could see her vagina just peeking out between her thighs, the view becoming clearer as she gripped her firm ass cheeks and pulled them apart. Her sphincter was wrinkled and dark brown, a few small hairs covering the otherwise hairless skin.

"I haven't gone in three days now; I think it is going to be a big one."

The wetness seeping between my legs coated my index as I gently prodded at the entrance to my vagina. I watched as the mystery woman's anus stretched and flexed as she struggled, her few grunts breaking the otherwise silent video. Following a short moan, I could see the head of her turd poke its way out before promptly retracting back inside her bowels. This sent a shiver down my spine and urged me to go further, my finger lubed by excess cum as I pushed it past my labia and deep into my slit.

The woman changed her position in the video, leaning further forward as she pushed for a second time. "Can you see my dirty, nasty, shithole? I bet you want to wrap your lips around it and eat all my amazing shit, you nasty fuck," the woman's voice taunted, edging me further in my shameful self-pleasure as I watched.

Her adjustments seemed to help as almost an inch of shit her shit could escape; however, it was once again pulled back in. I couldn't know for sure, but I guessed that this was intentional on her part, using the shit to pleasure herself as she pushed it in and out. The thought that she was enjoying this as much as I was furthered my arousal.

My finger left my vagina as I moved it to my clit, desperate to find more pleasure as it began furiously rubbing the erect nub. I could feel my body slipping into bliss as I kept my eyes locked on my laptop. The woman continued to tease both herself and the audience with her shit, each time pushing it out a little further before retracting it. I could tell that she was getting close, however, getting close to losing control and letting her bowels finally release the mass of waste. Her anus quivered as it fought to pull what was now over an inch of hard shit back inside, the dark brown log fighting not to break under its own weight.

"Oh fuck, here it comes," she purred, losing the battle on her last push. The massive load of shit was pulled from her ass and coiled in the bottom of the tub. The pile gathering between her feet looked almost inhumane in size, the shit folding in on itself as more came out. Unlike the original log, this waste was wet and gooey, squirting out with a few wet farts as it coated her more solid offerings.

I wanted desperately to be there and be with her as she released the shit that had been accumulating in her bowels for three days. Having the chance to experience that firsthand seemed a gift too good to be true for anyone. Even just the thought of it was almost enough to push me over the edge to climax, but I struggled to stop myself; I wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible before the post-orgasm doubt crept into my brain.

Slowing the rubbing of my clit, I rode the fine line between completion and continued pleasure. The woman's shit ended with a final hurrah of watery shit that squirted out in a fine stream. Her asshole continued to push and pulse, her red rosebud visible on the interior of her gaping hole. Then, with a sigh, she released her ass cheeks and hid her anus from view, taking a second to catch her breath before turning around.

"Jesus Christ, that stinks," her giggles echoed in the bathroom. I watched as she cautiously poked the pile with an outstretched pinky. It gave easily to her touch, indents forming in the waste as the excess coated her finger. "I bet you want to eat this so fucking bad," she continued, "You want to taste my nasty shit like the little pig you are."

If I weren't so turned on, the teasing likely would have gotten to me, making me feel uncomfortable and disgusted with myself once more. Truthfully, they did slightly, but the euphoric sensation of rubbing my clit overpowered any negative thoughts I had. I could feel as my self-control wavered more now, pulling me closer to orgasm. I continued to watch this unknown woman play with her waste all the while she belittled me and anyone else who enjoyed it.

I could feel my body overheating as I went into overdrive. Still dressed and covered with blankets, sweat was soon coating my body. This didn't stop me, though, nor did the video ending. I was too far gone now to start the next, so I let my imagination take control for the final few steps. The thoughts of toughing that woman's shit myself, burying my face in, breathing in her stink, they were all dancing around my head as I closed my eyes and buried my head in my pillows.

My body arched as the scene intensified. I was eating her scat now, mashing it with my teeth. I had never tasted shit before, but I knew of its bitter, earthy flavor. I imagined this filling my mouth, coating my tongue in a deep, indescribably dirty fantasy. She would be touching me, too. Running her hands along my naked body, rubbing my clit just as I was doing. I could feel her breath on my face as we leaned in for a kiss, my shit-coated mouth meeting hers.

"FUCK!" My body jolted as the climax crashed through it. I could feel a spurt of either squirt or pee spraying out from my tensing pussy and into my panties. I removed my hand in a swift motion, using it instead to grasp any loose blankets I could get a hold of as my climax faded. My vagina was burning and swollen, overworked from its violent pleasuring. I struggled to catch my breath as I melted into my bed, now exhausted. Unlike last night, I made sure to set my laptop on my bedside table to ensure it didn't fall and break more.

Unfortunately, it wasn't long before my better judgment returned, and I could feel the doubt creeping in. I expected this, of course, but it did little to stop the self-deprecating thoughts. I tried to remind myself of what Dr. Morse said, that I wasn't abnormal or gross -- it did little to help. Looking at the memory stick, I considered taking it out of the laptop and destroying it once and for all. But it wasn't mine to destroy, and I didn't want to upset Dr. Morse. After all, she was the only thing keeping me going at this point.

Instead, I reached over and grabbed the glass of wine where it still sat from this morning. Beside it was my last bottle of wine, the contents of which were poured into the glass with shaky hands and subsequently into my mouth. As the warmth spread down my throat and into my chest, the thoughts began to fade. I filled another glass after the first was finished, the bottle of wine now empty, and added to the pile of garbage on the other side of my bed.

I knew that it was wrong. I knew it was unhealthy to cope with my problems using alcohol. However, it was the only way to get rid of my self-hate, and I would do anything for that freedom. So I let the wine take me down into another slumber. After all, sleeping the day away meant less time spent facing the reality of what my life had become.