Squeaky Clean

Being a bidet service technician had been a decent job for me so far. My company, Squeaky Clean, manufactured high quality bidets used to clean customers' nether parts, and while the field was not especially glamorous, it wasn't a particularly difficult job. Installing one was not difficult at all for me, so in most cases I would be in and out of the house within an hour. Some of the customers within my first 2 months gave me trouble, as I had to stand by the company's "Satisfaction Guarantee", or the customer would leave negative feedback which could potentially cost me my job. So far, no one had been much of a pain in the ass... that is, until I met Carla.

The day started as they normally do; I had set up three appointments for the day, one in the morning, one in the early afternoon, and one in the late afternoon. I was on my way to my first appointment, for which I glanced down at my tablet to read the customer's review. I groaned immediately, seeing the size of the post. This was quite the disgruntled customer. She droned on and on about how the bidet wasn't cleaning her properly. I gulped down my coffee and continued onward.

I got to a massive stone house with giant, presidential pillars on the front. I drove into the long, winding driveway, parking my van at the foot of the steps. The owner was rich, there was no doubt. Explains why they would leave such a long, detailed comment about failure to clean their ass. This house was easily the largest and most intimidating I had come across, but I couldn't let that show. I had to be professional. Gathering my tools, as well as my courage, I walked up to the top of the stairs and rang the doorbell.

In what seemed like only a second, the door opened. Staring down at me was a large, strikingly beautiful woman with a coffee-brown complexion. I couldn't tell if her smooth complexion was makeup, or all-natural, but either way she was extraordinarily beautiful. She was incredibly tall, standing at what I would guess 6 and a half feet. I would think she might've been a former basketball player from her toned, muscular arms, but not from her hips. The term hourglass would be an insult to this woman. Her broad hips stood out so wide that without the extra large oak door at the front of her house, I doubt she would be able to fit through a regular door frame.

"Hello!" I said, my voice quaking slighty. "My names Trevor! I'm here to inspect yo—"

"Carla," she interrupted, looking down at me emotionlessly. She then looked at my reaction with a bemused expression before turning her back to me and walking into the house. I was intimidated by the woman from the front of her, but from the back... those hips could not have prepared me for the magnificent sight of those globes, threatening to break free of the stretchy fabric of her pants, which could barely contain them. I consider myself an ass man, but even so, this was too much ass, I had to say. If I took the largest ass I had ever seen in my life and quadrupled it in sheer volume, I don't think it still would've compared to this sitter on Carla. It was a sight to behold.

She walked briskly, her long legs covering ground quickly as her giant rear bounced purposefully and proudly behind her. I hurried to catch up.

"Some house you have here!" I said in a chipper manner. "One of the most impressive I've seen!"

She didn't even glance down at me, continuing to walk silently through the marble hallways of her mansion. She wasn't one for small talk, I realized quickly. She turned to another huge oak door, opening it and walking in. I was treated to a remarkable sight; the whole bathroom floor and walls were a black marble. She had two separate jacuzzis and a large, gold-plated toilet in the center with a SqueakyClean deluxe edition attached to the seat. I felt like I was walking on sacred ground, like this bathroom was divine space, especially the toilet, her throne.

"Alright, let's see what the problem is," I said, walking over to the toilet.

"It's just not working," Carla said authoritatively, walking over next to me, as I began to inspect it. "I paid $500 dollars for it and had my servant Marvin put it in. He hooked it up to warm water to the degree that is most pleasurable for my anus, but it just can't get it clean. I won't settle for anything less than what I deserve," she stated pointedly, crossing her arms, her eyebrows raised as she stood over me.

"Of course, Ma'am, I will get it working for you," I said assuredly, hoping the Amazonian woman would leave me some space to do my work.

"I do hope you will be quick, because I have to use the toilet soon. I just had my second breakfast not long ago, and those dozen eggs I had for first breakfast will be making their way through my system quite soon. My body is remarkably regular; I eat and poop eight times per day. So it is important to me to keep myself clean back there, and your system is just not cutting it," she said pointedly.

I almost gagged, thinking about that monstrous ass on the toilet all day. Eight times??? How did she get any work done, I thought. I was shocked by how blunt and open she was about her bowel movements. It wasn't ladylike at all, and for me it was a turn-off. I didn't like thinking about ladies—especially beautiful ladies— doing their business. It was hard for me in this line of work, but usually they didn't go into any detail about it.

"Of course, miss... miss, um—"

"—Longbottom," she said quickly.

Quite fitting, I thought.

"Well, Ms. Longbottom, I will just need to inspect the system for maybe 30 minutes, and then you can test it out."

"Oh, good," she said. "That is just enough time, my bowels are right on the brink of pushing out. I will certainly make you earn your pay for today," she said with a hearty laugh.

I blushed furiously, my ears turning hot. I could tell she was relishing my discomfort, and could sense how badly I didn't want to talk about her bowels.

"Er... well, I meant, you can just test the stream out to see how it feels. I just need to adjust the angle is all.." I muttered, trying to set myself straight.

"Oh, but how will I know if it works unless I try it in a real situation?" she asked cheerfully, pursing her lips as she watched me fumble with the SqueakyClean box. "You see, I don't know if you've noticed but my rear end is quite voluminous. It helps for being a professional Instagram model, but makes routine tasks quite cumbersome. Therefore, when I sit on the toilet it sinks deeper into the toilet than one normally would, making it difficult for the stream to target my anus. In addition, due to the great quantity of food that I eat, my bowel movements are far larger than the average person, necessitating a deeper, more thorough cleaning." She bent down at the hip as she was talking, reveling in my mortification at the conversation. Beads of sweat formed on my brow, as I tried not to envision her gigantic rear end squeezing out turds. The thought of the sheer size of her dumps almost made me sick to my stomach.

"Yes ma'am," I squeaked out, trying to keep my head down to prevent her from seeing how red I was getting. I didn't want to appear I was ignoring her, but also didn't want her to see the effect of her words. I couldn't recall her exact words, as my head was a fuzzy mess by this point.

"Yes, that's a good boy," Carla cooed, rubbing my hair as if dealing with a child. "When you're done, give me a call as I'll be upstairs. Then I will give you a real test. I'm going to grab a mug of coffee, so as to make sure I give you an extra large movement." She giggled, winking at me as I looked down in a mixture of embarrassment, shame and disgust. I wanted to speak up, and tell her there was no way I would be anywhere near the room, much less the toilet, when she took one of her assuredly titanic dumps, but I could only find a lump in my throat.

I glanced at her preposterously wide hips as she approached the door, before chuckling, and turning to me with a grin on her face.

"Oh, and Trevor... you may want to cancel all your other appointments for the day. You see, I don't intend for you to be finished her until my big ass is squeaky clean!" she said with a thunderous laugh, patting her ass as her meaty mountains jiggled behind her as she closed the door. Humiliation seared through me as I continued to inspect the device, my hands shaking in anticipation. Surely she couldn't be serious... could she? I couldn't tell whether she was taking me for a ride with all of this teasing. Nevertheless, I had gone from being severely attracted to the woman to being utterly repulsed in less than an hour.

As I predicted, the SqueakyCleab had no problems at all. I gave her a call to tell her that it checked out fine, praying that she might listen to me that the problem wasn't with the product but the fact that it simply wasn't designed for such a sizeable posterior.

Within ten seconds of hanging up, she entered through the large door. I couldn't help notice as it closed I seemed to hear several clicks, as if it were locking automatically.

"Alright now, let's see how you've done," she said, smiling from ear to ear as she approached the toilet.

"Well, er, Ms. Longbottom... as I said on the phone, it appears that the product—"

The words were stuck in my mouth as without any warning, she pulled her tights down to her knees, exposing the enormity of her hindquarters. She lowered her broad sitter down gently onto the seat, her ample flesh filling up and spilling over the oversized toilet seat.

"Yes, I know precisely what you said, dear," she said in a somewhat annoyed manner. "And you heard what I said, and I will not repeat myself; the customer is never the problem... the problem is that your damn product doesn't get the job done!" As she said this, her face contorted and she let out a delayed grunt. I was disgusted beyond belief; I wanted to just leave my tools and sprint away from this woman but my legs felt frozen. Everything felt surreal, having this Amazonian beauty pooping in front of me. The thrill of seeing her naked bottom was covered by the grotesque smell being emitted from it.

"Oooh, that feels great!" she murmured, her eyes closing in bliss as I heard the water slapped with one of her massive turds. I had never been more turned off in my life. "Yeah, I'm going to make you work hard today," she laughed, staring directly at me before I averted my eyes in shame.

"Err—- I think I should go," I blurted out.

"I don't think that's going to happen," she said authoritatively. "Not until I'm— squeaky clean!" Another plop. I felt trapped, anxiety building up inside me as the smell of her excrement wafted into my nostrils, filling the air with her raw stench.

I wanted to say something, but I was afraid of my voice betraying how embarrassed I really felt. The shame was mixed with anger at letting her do this to me; anger at myself as well for not standing up for myself.

"Mmmmm, nothing like a good crap," she smiled, as another plop landed in the bowl. This time I didn't hear a splash; the pile must be so big it had risen out of the water. The thought of the mountain of shit filling the bowl made me want to vomit. I heard a slow hiss of gas coming out of her back door, as the smell of her recycled first breakfast began to fill the room.

As soon as I inhaled the putrid, rotten egg stench, I knew I couldn't handle much more of it. I took a quick inhale, and tried to hold my breath until her lengthy fart was over. However, as I held my oxygen, it soon became apparent to me that I had picked the wrong battle. Carla sighed with pleasure, as the steady stream of gas flowed out of her anus, bathing the room in her fecal offering. After about a minute of holding my breath, I could go no longer and tried to inhale without making it sound like I had held my breath in. I gasped quietly, and Carla grinned down at me, still farting. I couldn't believe the endless reservoir of gas inside that great, expansive behind of hers. It had been several minutes now of continuous gas; easily the longest fart I had ever heard.

Tears started to form around my eyes as I breathed in the pungent odor of this never-ending gaseous release. I wiped at my eyes to remove them without her noticing. At long last, the fart ended as she wiggled the rest of it out gleefully. I had never seen someone enjoy a poop so much.

"Alright, Trevor, now time for you to shine," she said happily, winking at me. I tried to hold my breakfast down, the smell of hers threatening to make me upheave it. I reuctantly moved closer to the toilet as she spread her voluminous cheeks, exposing her soiled crack. My stomach dropped as I saw the mountain of turds filling up the toilet; the woman shat like a horse! I gulped, trying not to breathe as I aimed the SqueakyClean at her hole.

"Alright, are you ready?" I asked nervously, more to myself than her.

She nodded eagerly, sticking her shitty ass out even further as if this was a normal human interaction. I should've prepared myself better for what happened next; I turned the knob to open the water stream slightly, but the pressure in the line must have been extremely high because a strong burst of water shot out at her hole. Before I could react, the powerful blast hit her crack, spraying bits of her fecal matter all over my face, including on the ground. Feeling it on my face made me feel soiled at an immeasurably deep level. Immediately, I turned the nozzle off and started furiously wiping the spackles of her poop off of my face with my shirt. I heard her roaring laughter behind me as I turned away, humiliated beyond belief. The smell burned itself into my brain. I couldn't believe what had happened... this woman's poop had gotten on my face.

"Oh god, that's a shitty situation," she cried, tears coming down her face as she bent over the toilet, doubling over in laughter. I wanted to disappear. "I think you should be happy I eat only organic! I think it should be good for your skin, just rub it around a bit, make sure it gets in your pores!"

I was beet-red and couldn't say anything, in my disbelief. Instead, I just grabbed the nozzle to get it over with.

"Ahh, maybe this time I'll back my butt up a bit," she chuckled, shaking her head at me in pity. She let out a fart which seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. I felt myself sniffle, and tried desperately to control myself and not show any signs of weakness. I braced myself and opened the water valve as slowly as possible so as not to cover myself in her shit again.

A stream of water shot out at her nether hole, wetting her brown anus but not seeming to penetrate the vast amount of shit caked onto her crack.

"This is quite enjoyable, Trevor— I do love having my asshole stimulated like this— but I can't help feeling like it's not quite getting me clean," she chuckled, looking down at me dubiously. My face nearly contorted into a look of sheer disgust, but I held back.

"Err... yes, ma'am, I'm just working my way back up," I said, turning the nozzle up a little bit. The amount of pressure coming out would have cleaned any other bottom I had seen, but it was difficult to get the proper angle of the stream, as her massive, meaty buttocks sank deep into the bowl. The rotten stink of her digested breakfast, wiped onto my shirt from my face, was beginning to cause me to feel lightheaded. I was feeling extremely anxious that she would never let me leave here until her disgusting, titanic bottom was clean. I was sweating bullets, knowing that I would have to cancel my other appointments for the day. Nervously, I opened the valve slightly more.

"Oooh, Trevor, that feels so delicious on my big bum!" she exclaimed, letting out a thick, bassy fart, which sprayed some of the muddied water back at me. The sheer heat of her turds was remarkable; combined with the potent, earthy stench it made me feel like I was close to passing out.

It felt like I was spraying water at a brick wall, trying to knock it down— it was futile. There was so much shit around her asshole that there was no way I could get it all off. I had the nozzle spraying out at full pressure, and still it was barely cleaning her enormous bum.

"How're we doing back there, honey?" she said cheerfully, wiggling her behemoth butt at me. Everything she said managed to piss me off. She knew exactly how we were doing— not good.

"Umm... it seems like it's working properly, it's just taking longer than expected. I think you'll be able to clean yourself well, it will just take time," I said, trying to sound strong.

"Oh no, no, no, dear," she said, grinning at me. I couldn't make eye contact with her. She had a way of making me feel so low, so far beneath her and her superior rump that I was servicing. "You will stay here until my bottom is completely clean— squeaky clean! You see, I have gone through quite a few bidets that have failed to live up to expectations. So I was very excited when I saw your company's "guarantee" for a completely clean bottom! And that you had a guarantee customers could pay extra for that stated that the service technician would not leave the premises unless the customer signed off saying that their bottom was sparkling! And of course I needed the premier treatment, darling!" She laughed heartily, drinking in the look of misery on my face. "Yes, honey, I intend to use the contract to my every advantage. If you want your job, you will not leave my side until I'm finished with you."

My head was spinning. I couldn't accept this— how could we have such an agreement in our contracts? I looked despairingly down at her fat, brown butt at the wrong time— I saw her wide, wet hole contract and then expel a powerful jet of gas that blew the foul water back up and over my face. The last thing I remember was the stink enveloping me, before it overtook me and I passed out.