The Brown Note

Graham's abdomen was churning, and he needed to shit with all haste. He'd had a massive release earlier, shortly after getting up, and was now bursting to go again. He wondered what on earth had disagreed with him this time. For the past few days, the organist had suffered a little from a looseness of the bowels.

He checked his watch. 9.15. The Sunday Eucharist would begin in fifteen minutes, but that was just enough time for him to head to the toilets. No way would he be able to hold on until after the service.

Graham made his way to the church hall and hurried into the gents, muttering in displeasure when he let out a loud and noxious fart. Fortunately the toilets were empty, thus sparing his embarrassment. His rectum couldn't hold its load much longer. Rushing past the row of urinals, Graham entered a cubicle, locked the door and a released a second echoing fart.

"Oh damn," he groaned, feeling a little bit of wetness at the back of his underpants. He'd got the turtle's head. A long, thick log was pushing its way out, stretching his sphincter. Graham fumbled with his belt, trouser button and zip. Moments later, he yanked down his black trousers then his white y-front underpants. A large brown patch at the back of them confirmed his worst fear - he'd sharted.

"Great, that's all I need," he tutted, sitting down on the toilet seat. "Worse than skid marks!" They'd been clean on this morning.

Graham shifted around on the seat and pushed his trousers and underpants down to his ankles. A crackling sound. He didn't need to push.

Plop, plop plop.

Three large turds landed in the toilet bowl. The wonderful feeling of relief. Hissing of pee. More farts and plops. Graham relaxed and sighed. He hadn't expected to unload so much, due to his earlier defecation. At least it wasn't vomit this time. He'd just about recovered from that overindulgence at the harvest social last week...

Another smooth log slid from his hole.

Plop.

Graham wrinked his nose. The odour that met his nostrils was putrid and horrible. His shit didn't usually smell as bad as this. Something he'd eaten recently must still be irritating his digestive system, but what the devil was it? Last night he'd had fish and chips. For breakfast today, a humble poached egg on toast and a cup of tea, nothing that would give him the runs. He hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol this week.

Plop.

The organist moaned as another log broke off, making the water in the bowl splash against his arse cheeks. His piss stream dwindled, while yet more shit was continuing to emerge. He checked his watch. 9.20.

"Come on, hurry up for God's sake!" Graham said out loud, as though begging the Almighty to bring this bowel movement to a swift conclusion. He was expected to be in church now, playing the voluntary that signalled the Eucharist was about to start. The congregation would be seated in the pews, the choir in position, ready to walk down the aisle during the processional hymn. Reverend Bradley would be pacing up and down. And of course Sarah...his lovely girlfriend...well she'd be wondering where he was too.

Another log, even larger. Graham's anus stretched. He was struggling a little to expel this turd. Cursing, he extended his index finger and gently massaged the bulging area around his hole. It seemed to help, for the log that didn't seem to end finally did. He relaxed and gave a little sigh.

He continued to massage, and one final, smooth piece slid out.

Plop.

He moaned some more and sighed in relief as he felt his bowel be fully emptied, with a final parting fart signalling the end of nature's call.

"Finally!" He stood up. There was no time for a thorough wipe or to try and clean the brown he'd sharted into his underpants. He pulled them up, fastened his trousers, flushed the toilet without looking what he'd unloaded, and raced out of the cubicle.

Only when he reached the church did he realise he'd forgotten to wash his hands. It pained him to have to play the organ with such dirty fingers, but it couldn't be helped. Hopefully he could disinfect the manuals with wet wipes after the service...

"Ah just in the nick of time, Graham!" Reverend Bradley exclaimed as the organist put his open-fronted gown on and took his place at the console.

"My apologies, Vicar. Got...caught short."

"Happens to us all." He nodded in sympathetic understanding.

Graham began playing the processional hymn. So far, all seemed well. He peered over the top of the organ and noticed Sarah sitting in the front pew, gazing in adoration. He was looking forward to spending the rest of the day with her. As he continued to play, cramps started nagging his abdomen again. It was nothing, surely. Just the after-effects of the large dump he'd just taken.

The service continued normally. The mild cramps continued to nag. He took a deep breath and ignored them.

"Please stand for our gradual hymn, Guide Me, O Thou Great Redeemer," Reverend Bradley said.

Graham knew this popular hymn like the back of his hand. It was a favourite of his, and playing it filled him with joy. The organ's stirring sound radiated throughout the church as he began the first verse.

Vibrations surged through the organ stool.

Suddenly, abdominal cramps almost caused him to play a wrong note.

"Uh-oh," he muttered under his breath, as the choir and congregation sang their hearts out. His gut protested some more and then...an intense urge to shit seized him.

"Oh God, no." Graham gritted his teeth and tried to hold it in. It seemed impossible, but he needed to poo again. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he fought the urge, whilst continuing to play. Any sudden movement would cause him to lose control, but it was impossible to stay still whilst playing an instrument as mighty as this one. His feet pressed down on the pedalboard.

There'd always been a problem with excess vibration of this organ stool. Normally it didn't bother Graham, but it had become a bit of a joke amongst some of the female students he'd taught in the past. More than one had giggled about "the pipe organ that gives the best orgasms." Right now however, the vibrations were having a less than pleasant effect on Graham. The throbbing sensation was increasing his need to shit.

By the time he started the third verse, he was beyond desperate. He grunted as a loud fart spewed its miasma; it was a blessing that there was no-one close enough to inhale it.

And then it came. Graham's arsehole started to vomit the contents of his rectum. The diarrhea that he had felt rumbling all this time. There was no stopping it. The warm, pungent looseness filled his y-fronts at once. At that point, Graham had never been more grateful for the fact he was wearing them, as well as black trousers and a long black organist's gown.

Suddenly, he felt more. Good God, something he'd eaten really had done the damage. The next load was accompanied by a watery fart. His unloading seemed to go on forever, but was in reality, just mere seconds.

He grimaced as the aroma of his excrement greeted his nose, but relief at last, as his irritated colon began to calm down. It was over.

With the hymn over, Graham dared to move slighty on the stool. He could feel his warm, wet faeces coating his crack, cock and balls. His underpants were filled to the brim, and some of the contents were seeping out. The service was half-way complete. All he had to do was literally sit tight and wait. He didn't get up for communion.

After the service, things would get a little more...interesting.

He hoped Sarah and the Vicar would understand.