Writing What You Know: A Sequel

Note: This is a sequel to the two-part story of the same name that began in a college English classroom and ended, for the most part, on the scat-smeared bedroom sheets of two lesbian lovers. Reading the earlier parts might be helpful for continuity, but not essential.

Time had almost expired in Susan Hicks's English literature class at Cee Nova College. The course focused on the short story, and, using a well-regarded anthology as its main text, examined several famous short stories written by esteemed world authors, from Hawthorne and Maupassant to Hemingway and Alice Munro. Next up was a story by James Joyce from The Dubliners, which Susan was about to assign for the next class four days hence. Students would be expected to read the story and be ready to discuss important elements such as characterization, plot development, dialogue, tone, and anything else that made the story memorable and worthy (or if they could show cause and felt brave enough, not so memorable or worthy in their opinion). Usually two stories were assigned for each class. Susan often chose two stories that either complemented or contrasted each other in important ways, allowing class discussion to often involve both stories together. Assigned with the Joyce story was one by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Susan was now a full-time member of the English department at Cee Nova. She still taught the Writing Fiction course as always, but when a position in the department opened up, she was asked to fill it as an assistant professor. She was working on her fourth novel by then, though making slow progress, and her previous novels were not exactly making her wealthy, or even a respectable wage-earner. She shared a condo with her lover Ginger, who worked at a finance company, and the two were able to make ends meet and live a comfortable existence, but nothing extravagant. It didn't take much wrangling to get her to agree to join the college ranks full-time.

It seemed everyone in her class, all twenty-five students, had at least a vague idea who Fitzgerald was -- most had heard of The Great Gatsby, at least, even if they hadn't read it (most hadn't). But Joyce was another matter, and Susan thought some might not know the author. On a whim just to see, she asked, "Can anyone tell us something about James Joyce?"

A young man, Phil, off to her left said, "He wrote a book called Ulysses, I'm pretty sure."

"That's right," Susan said. "Anybody else ever hear of it?" A few people mumbled that they thought they had.

Another man, Jacob, then added, "He also wrote some crazy book that was like a giant word puzzle that nobody could figure out called something like 'Fibian's or Fabian's Date' or something."

"Close," said Susan before smiling. "Maybe some of you have been on dates that felt like this, but the book you mean is called Finnegan's Wake, and it's a puzzle, all right." One or two chuckled at her jest, but most of the others were more interested in watching the clock tick down to dismissal time. She waited a few seconds and then said, "Anything else about Joyce?"

An attractive and usually rather reticent young woman, Tammy, then spoke out, "He liked coprophilia."

There was dead silence for several seconds, mostly because the students didn't know what the word meant, but Susan knew exactly what it meant. She stared at Tammy, surprised that so seemingly reserved a member of the class would make such a remark. She looked at her not to admonish her, however, but out of curiosity and an odd sense of déjà vu. A few years previously she had had a student in her Writing Fiction class, Carla, who not only knew all about coprophilia, but practiced it herself and even helped convert Susan into a dedicated practitioner.

"What the hell does that mean?" Phil asked.

"It means he liked his wife to shit in her panties," replied Tammy, looking directly at Susan, apparently not caring how shocking she was being.

Half the class immediately groaned in disgust, most of the other half laughing out loud. Then the girl sitting next to Tammy, a pretty brunette named Joy, said, "It's true! He wrote his wife letters telling her how much he loved seeing her shit stains in her drawers." More groans and laughter burst forth. Susan was less surprised by Joy's comment, at least by her saying it; she often offered unusual interpretations of story elements or character traits, often of a risqué nature. What perplexed her about Joy was that despite her remarks in class, which were often sexual, more of the young men in the class hadn't sought her out. Susan's stare now engulfed both girls, and she wondered if perhaps these two were a pair, and maybe guys had tried but were rebuffed. She raised a hand to try to get everyone settled down again. This was a very interesting revelation, she thought. Is it possible she had two scat lovers in her class? After Carla she always wondered if she would ever encounter another one, and now could there actually be two in her midst?

"I see you girls have read the Ellmann biography," Susan said to them. "Very good. Maybe we should just move past all that for now, seeing how little time is remaining." Susan made a few final comments and instructions about the assignment and then dismissed the class. As everyone was shuffling out, she thought of going over to Tammy and Joy. She wasn't sure what she would say to them, but knew she wanted to find out more about their interest in coprophilia, if indeed they had any interest at all or had just imparted that information to gross everyone out. But before she could do so, she heard a voice bellow from the doorway, "Well, hello, there Susan! Long time, no see!" She recognized the voice immediately. It was Carla.

Susan's mouth dropped open and she waved excitedly to her former student and scat mentor. What a pleasant surprise to see her in this familiar setting. They had kept in touch since Carla was a student there, of course, even scatted together on occasion, but it had been a while now since they had seen each other. Carla's writing talent had always impressed Susan, though her insistence on centering her stories on detailed accounts of people lovingly engaged in the scat fetish shocked her. A friendly struggle had broken out between them that lasted all semester with Susan trying to get Carla to choose a less offensive subject to write about, and Carla insisting nothing would change her mind. By semester's end, Carla was not only beginning to publish her scat stories on an online erotic story site with Susan's help, but Susan along with (actually thanks to) Ginger was deeply involved in those very same scatting activities. Carla walked over to where Susan was standing, and when the room had nearly emptied, they embraced and gave each other a big hug and kiss.

"It's so good to see you," Susan said to her. "What are you doing here?"

Instead of answering her, Carla looked at Tammy and Joy, who had lingered behind after everyone had left, and asked, "Did you do what you planned with the copro thingy?"

"Yes, we did," said Tammy. "It worked perfectly."

"What do you mean?" asked Susan. "What's going on?"

"The three of us are friends," Tammy said, looking at Joy and Carla, "and love to scat together. When Carla found out we were in your class she told us about you."

Susan looked at Carla, startled, and seeing that look on Susan's face, Carla said, "Don't get mad at me. I knew them by then and trusted them. Okay?"

"Yeah," added Joy. "We knew you were going to assign the James Joyce story today, Friday, for Tuesday, it's on the syllabus you handed out, so we came up with a good way to mention shit play with you from out of the blue."

"Shh, not so loud, for God's sake," Susan berated her gently. "There are still people around."

"You mean you didn't hang that 'Resident Scat Queen' sign I made for you on your office door yet?" joked Carla.

"Funny girl," responded Susan, smiling. "Speaking of my office, let's go there where we can talk more privately."

"Careful, ladies," Carla said to Tammy and Joy whimsically, "anything might happen in the 'privacy' of her office," and then to Susan she added even more outlandishly, "Try not to corrupt the fair youth of the nation, okay?"

Susan replied facetiously, "They've already been with you, so further corruption is impossible." All of this was said in good-natured fun, reminiscent of the way they were with each other back when Carla was in Susan's class, and everyone laughed, especially Tammy and Joy, who were delighting in seeing their English professor in such an unsuspected light.

They walked down a long corridor to the other side of the building and stopped before Susan's office door so she could open it. They went inside and Susan asked them to take a seat on the couch or a few chairs she had around. She had some bottles of water in a table-top fridge, which she offered to everyone. Carla grabbed one, but the other two girls demurred. The three of them sat on the couch, and scooched close together so Susan could squeeze in between Carla and Tammy.

"This is cozy," grinned Susan after sitting between them, looking at both girls. "It's good none of us is wearing a dress or she would be busy swatting roving hands away."

"As if a pair of slacks would ever stop you," cracked Carla, who then, as if an inspiration had just come over her, turned slightly, her eyes beaming, and planted a kiss on Susan's lips. Susan put her hand between Carla's knees, at first just for balance, but then for the pleasure of touching her.

"See?" Carla said to Tammy and Joy, after breaking the kiss off, pointing at her knees. "What did I tell you."

As everyone laughed again, Susan stood up and pulled a well-worn easy chair close to the front of the couch, which she sat in. "This might be better for now so we can at least catch up on news and discuss some things without any shenanigans."

"Spoil sport," chastised Carla. Then she said, "So, how is Ginger? I assume you are still a pair?"

"Yes, indeed. I think we're closer than ever."

"Scatting together?"

"Of course. We both love it, do it as often as possible, usually, and even seem to get messier all the time." Carla pumped her fist in the air as if saying, "Go, girl!"

"Go ahead," Carla uttered, "you can thank me again if you want."

"Yes, Carla," Susan said rolling her eyes. "Thank you ever so much for steering me to the wildly enthralling pleasures of scat sex. Though actually it was Ginger who enticed me to do it the first time. Maybe she's the one I should thank." Susan reminded herself that Tammy and Joy were hearing all of this, and although Carla had said she trusted them, thought she should at least find out some things about them before revealing too much about her private life.

"So, what's the story with you two? Friends? Lovers? Did Carla kidnap you once and turn you into scat fiends? She can be very persuasive, as I found out."

"No," said Tammy. "Lovers before Carla sank her fangs into us."

Joy put her hand into Tammy's and said, "My mother and I moved into the same town Tammy and her mother live when I was a senior in high school. I wasn't very happy with her at first for uprooting me from my friends in my senior year, even though she did it because it meant a huge promotion and would allow us to pay off our debts and even start saving a bit. I was just a selfish 18-year-old brat. But then I met Tammy and we really hit it off, and soon, when we both discovered a craving for scat play, I was overjoyed with my mother's decision. I even started scatting with her again."

"You scat with your mother?" Susan asked, surprised.

"Yeah, Tammy does, too, with her mom. That's what's so amazing about our relationship. She and I began spending weekends together, you know, sleeping over and scatting, even more time during the summer months after graduation, and our moms, whoever's house we were at, would join in sometimes. A few times all four of us would scat together. Tammy and I started hoping all of us would just move in together, but except in bed, where they are perfect with each other, our mothers are total opposites."

Tammy picked up the conversation. "Yeah, my mother is such a neat freak and thinks Joy's is at the other end of the spectrum, though I don't see it at all. 'How could I possibly live with that woman, it would be like Felix and Oscar,' my mother would say whenever the idea came up. No offense, love. It would drive me crazy. It's so weird because she can get so messy during scat play, I mean like unbelievably messy, which wouldn't bother her a bit."

"Tammy and I will probably find a place to live together after school is finished and we get jobs," said Joy. "Then we'll see what happens with them."

Carla could see how intriguing all this was to Susan, and ventured, "And you thought I was the last fascinating student you would ever have. Surprise, surprise!"

"I never thought you'd be my last fascinating student, if you were even that to begin with," Susan snapped before grinning. "So how did you all meet?"

Carla smiled and said, "At church."

Susan cracked up laughing. "You, there? You weren't trying to seduce one of the nuns, were you, convince her how wonderful scatting is? I know you love the black habits they wear, you find them very sexy."

"You're only saying that because of that nun Halloween costume I wore once, but I remember how hot it made you, you couldn't keep your hands off me."

"That was Ginger, I'm sure that was Ginger. She likes black, I like red."

"And guess what color my panties were that night."

"Red, of course. That I remember. Mmm, yes, they were very nice, those panties. Very pretty, and tasty. I guess we all got a little crazy later that night."

"Little. That'll be the day 'little' figures into your sexual hijinks," which caused everyone to laugh again. Then Carla continued, "The three of us actually met outside the church at a bazaar they were holding. These two were standing by themselves at the end of a long table piled high with all kinds of junk looking at something in amazement trying to conceal it. It looked like a DVD with Japanese writing all over it and I sort of snuck up behind them and saw immediately it was a Japanese scat video compilation. How it got to a church bazaar I have no idea, but all three of us knew what it was and weren't going to leave without it. But there was no way we were going to show it to anyone to pay for it, so I got an idea and slipped it in my pocket, grabbed something else off the table, and bought that. I told the woman taking my money that I wanted to make an offering to the church in addition to my purchase and gave her $10. I thought that would be about right for the DVD at such an event."

Susan shook her head in mock dismay and said, "Not only do you enjoy pooping in your panties whenever you feel like it and engaging in unrestrained scat sex, you steal things from church bazaars. I don't believe you!"

"I didn't steal it, I paid $10 for it, probably the most anyone paid for any item there the whole time."

"Then what?"

Tammy spoke up first. "Well, we went across the street to a small park where there was a bench. Joy and I knew we loved scat sex, but we didn't know who this woman was. So just like here now, we started talking, she telling us about her panty poops and scat escapades and how much she craved doing those things, and we told her the same about us."

"I thought they might be underage at first," said Carla, "but when they told me they were almost 19 and said they would prove it if I wanted to see their driver's licenses, I believed them. So like the good scat queen that I am, I invited them to my apartment where we could watch the DVD together with some tea and crumpets."

"More like beer or wine and pretzels," said Susan.

"Nope, that would be illegal. We could engage in sex to our heart's content, the filthier the better, but no booze. What kind of degenerate do you take me for?"

"Of course," said Joy, "halfway through the video we had seen enough amazing scat scenes to forsake the video and start creating some of our own."

"Mmmm, that was a lovely afternoon," put in Tammy, grinning broadly at Joy.

Carla said, "Someday we're going to have to finish watching that video, you know. I'm dying to know how it ends."

"My guess," commented Joy, "since it was a compilation, is that it ends pretty much how it began: Boy takes shit on girl, girl spreads shit all over herself, second girl takes shit on same girl with more spreading and mutual sharing, and then boy fucks one or both girls. The end."

"Okay," replied Tammy, "that very well might be how it goes, but we should watch it just to be sure. You could be wrong, you know. Maybe we should start watching from the beginning again."

"Oh, well," Carla laughed, "I guess we'll never get to the end if we keep doing that."

They chatted about some other things, after which Susan asked Carla if she wanted more water, but Carla said she was fine.

"You're still posting your scat stories on that Litter site, I see," said Susan to Carla. "I saw your last one, the one that took place at a campsite just off the Appalachian Trail. You really did a great job describing the scene, the beautiful vistas, the quiet tranquility, the blue skies, the..."

Carla suddenly interrupted her. "First of all, the site is called Literotica, as you well know, and what about the scatting that couple did? What did you think of that? Pretty hot, don't you think?"

"There was scatting in that story? I must have missed it."

"Still can't see what's right in front of your nose, can you."

Susan grinned and, clearly enjoying this repartee with her good friend, said. "You mean that itty-bit of shit play that left everything to the reader's imagination like a love scene in a Victorian novel? Did that couple even get their hands dirty?"

"Way more than their hands, obviously. I've never had so much poop in any one scene in a story before, they almost suffocated in it!"

"Really? Maybe my phone deleted most of it by mistake. Alexa trying to protect my innocence."

Carla clicked her tongue in disgust and moaned, "This is why I feel so sorry for Ginger, and why I keep telling her when she's finally had enough of your nonsense she should come move in with me."

"Wishful thinking on your part, I'm sure, but that will never happen, daahling. Nevahh!" Everyone was splitting their sides by this time.

"What about that novel you're working on," Carla asked, after everyone calmed down. "What are you calling it, Total Madness?"

"That's my working title, but my agent is not too crazy about it. You'll be thrilled to learn I have a nice juicy watersports scene in it, at a lake in the moonlight, which is meant to illustrate part of the total madness the main characters succumb to during their sexual escapades. Three couples are lounging naked on a dock after taking moonlight swims in the lake, and one of the women says she has to pee and starts doing so all over her boyfriend's cock and body. Another guy joins her and pees all over his girlfriend and before long everyone is peeing on everybody having a wild time."

"Sounds great," admitted Carla. "But no scatting."

"No. I just can't bring myself to cross that line. Maybe if I finish this novel and it totally bombs, I'll put scat in my next one, figuring I'd have nothing to lose, anyway."

"Well, if you ever want to use a scat scene from one of my Literotica stories just go ahead and steal it, I won't mind."

"What, you don't think I could come up with a scat episode to match any of yours? Maybe when I first met you that was true, but I've had enough experience now to go up against the dirtiest out there."

"I'm sure, love. No doubt about it." Carla had to smile to herself thinking just how far Susan had come in her acceptance, even devotion, to scatting.