Stinkers – Part 4

WARNING: This section contains graphic scat play. If brown turns your stomach, it would probably be better for you to skip this one.

Kurt wasn’t really looking where he was going–his eyes were on his phone. He had to call Jerry to go over the final details of their presentation tomorrow morning. He scrolled through his contacts, and slammed right into a young man who had stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk’s flow. He looked up, his eyes catching the piss and cum stained shirt, the sleazy handlebar mustache, the beat up hat, and then he caught a whiff of him. Of that…funk, that was wafting from him. He was speechless. He was beyond disgusted. He wanted to scream at him, but all the man did was stare at Kurt a moment, and then walk off into an alleyway, beckoning with one finger.

He told himself that he followed the young man because he was angry. Because he wanted to fight, because he wanted to scream, but his breathing was turning ragged, he was snorting through his nose without even realizing it. His nose was…awash with smells he’d just never bothered smelling before. The city itself, the filth of it. The grime, the trash, the exhaust, the sewage. The alley was dark compared to the bright street, and rather narrow. He fumbled for a moment, following his nose while his eyes adjusted. There, he saw the man he’d run into on the sidewalk, beside one of the most massive men he’d ever seen. He was wearing nothing beyond a couple of dirt crusted work boots and a pair of jean shorts that did nothing to hide the massive cock clearly visible through multiple tears. His chest was coated with hair, and he looked…wet. Like he’d just stepped from the shower, but it was sweat. He didn’t know how he knew, but it was sweat soaking the massive man’s beard and chest, his arms, his…his thighs. His cock. He couldn’t stop looking at the man’s cock, his fucking…fucking cock.

The man he’d run into on the sidewalk was speaking, but Kurt only caught the tail end, “…your turn Jed.”

“Don’t fuckin’ mind if I do.”

The huge one stepped towards him, and the musk froze Kurt in place. He couldn’t process it, he couldn’t grapple with how it was making him feel. The man ran his hands along his body, over his suit, down over his flabby chest and gut, down to his crotch, where he groped Kurt’s hard cock, around to his ass and then up to his face, stroking his chubby, stubbly cheeks before wiping some sweat up and shoving two huge fingers right in Kurt’s nose. He snorted, and nearly came in his pants.

“Fuckin’ pig. Old, fuckin, nasty piggy.”

He pushed Kurt up against the wall, and then pressed his body to him, pinning him there. Kurt had never felt so small–he could feel the man’s cock jutting into his gut, and then something warm started soaking into him. He could smell the man’s piss, he could smell it and he wanted it. He didn’t know why, but he’d never wanted anything as much as that, but he couldn’t get down on his knees. He couldn’t get down there, he was pinned, and the man knew it, he could see Kurt’s desperation, and he relished it. “Please…” Kurt whimpered, but he didn’t know whether he wanted the man to let him go, or to let him drink.

“Not yet, you nasty piggy,” Jed said, “First, you gotta do some things for me. Show me what a dirty stink whore you are. Piss yourself. Piss these expensive suit pants of yours. I don’t think I soaked ‘em well enough.”

It was surprisingly easy. Kurt felt his bladder go almost immediately, and as much as he knew he should feel ashamed, he felt…relieved. Sexy even.

“Yeah…yeah, fucker. But here’s the real test. The real piggy test. Shit your pants for me. I wanna smell a full load back there before I count to ten, or there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

“Wait…what? But–”

“1…2…3…”

Kurt tried to think about this, he tried, but his brain just wasn’t working, it wasn’t working at all. Why not shit himself? He couldn’t answer that question, he couldn’t.

“4…5…6…”

He grunted. He pushed. He heard himself fart.

“7…8…”

Another fart. It was coming, he could feel it, and he bore down harder. Filling the back of his pants like a good pig, yeah, fucking pig, he was such a fuckin’ pig!

“Good piggy,” Jed said, and smelled the air, “Gonna be a fun one, eh Sam?”

“You always make good ones man.”

Jed let up some pressure, enough to let Kurt come forward from the wall, and then shoved a hand down the back of Kurt’s pants, right into the mess, and then he pulled it out, dragging his hand up Kurt’s back, to his neck and up the back of his head. It was warm, it was warm and stank, and they were panting with lust. Another coating, this time smearing it across his face, forcing four thick fingers into his mouth, feeling Kurt try to suck all of them clean at once, leaned in and kissed him, invaded his mouth with a thick tongue, and he let him, he let him because he wanted it, because he was a pig, a nasty pig, a filthy pig, and he came. He came, and it felt like he was pouring out of himself, and someone he had never admitted was inside him was coming out in him. Jed stepped back, releasing pressure, and Kurt slumped down the wall, feeling shit squish around his ass and legs when he hit the pavement, but he was used to that…wasn’t he? He hadn’t been able to keep shit in for…for ages, not that he minded, a nasty derelict toilet pig like him.

The two stinkers were staring at him and grinning. The businessman they’d pulled into the alley was gone, replaced by an old, fat derelict dressed in filthy rubber and leather sex gear, his huge beard crusted with grime, cum and shit, his hair tangled, his skin barely visible beneath the layer of dried scum. Kurt smirked at them, showing his mostly toothless mouth, and licked his lips. Jed knew what he wanted. He dropped his shorts, bent over and braced himself against the opposite wall, and Kurt saw shit start pumping out of the hole. He scrambled up and tried to get ahead of the flow, tried to eat it all up like a good pig, snorting and grunting and shaking with need. Behind him, Sam yanked down his rubber pants and thrust his cock into the cooling muck stuck to the old man’s crack, stabbing around until he found the loose hole, and started fucking wildly.

After they’d both abused him, the two men left him there in the alley. He tried to follow them, but some small part of him was too ashamed to be seen on the sidewalk. What had they done to him? What had he just done to himself? He spent the night in the alley, eating his shit, trading his service as a toilet with other degenerates for booze and cigarettes, and by the next morning, Kurt had no memory of his old life–he was just a pig who wandered the streets, begging men for shit…and more often than not, he’d get it. Something about the way he smelled made men more than happy to slip into an alley and use him as the toilet he knew he was. After all, he was a stinker, through and through, just like the rest of them.