Published on PoopReport.com (http://www.poopreport.com)

Emancipating The Shameful

By Rev Dan
Created Dec 6 2002 - 12:00am
At the moment, I am working as a Christmas temporary at a catalogue shop. I usually work in the evenings, taking the stock from the delivery van to the shelves. It's shit work, but the pay is OK. I work with a few people, most notably Colin, whom I've recently renamed "Colon" because a) he is a bit anal retentive and b) his ass habits...

Colin was a shy boy when it came to shitting. Even though the staff toilets were satisfactory for most people's asses, he found he couldn't go for a dump while at work. I once overheard him saying, "I can't go whenever I'm at work because someone might walk into the toilet and hear or smell my 'doings.'" It was something like that -- I'm not too sure, because I was too busy trying not to laugh.

Eventually, his whole No Shitting At Work policy went from cute to annoying. Whenever he needed a shit, he would just walk around the shop floor, letting out really nasty farts so strong they could strip paint.

Finally, I had enough. A few days ago, I came up with a plan to release Colin's colon from the torment it suffers every day from 9 to 5. As luck would have it, I was working with him for almost the entire weekend, so I was able to put my plan in to action.

That Saturday, I made him go out to McDonalds on our lunch break to load up on food -- the reason being that I once overheard him saying "McDonalds really bungs me up." Towards the end of the day, I thought I would be really clever and take the next step: some slow-acting laxatives in his coffee. I actually calculated how much I would need to set him off at the right time. It took some doing, but I knew it would be worth it.

In the morning, I met Colin before work. He didn't look good. I asked him what was wrong and he said that he went out last night and got "a bit merry."

This made my plan a bit more interesting.

We carried on working until lunch break, at which point I suggested that we go to a café for a greasy breakfast to help cure his hangover. So off we went, to the greasiest café that God has ever seen: the Bridge Street Café.

Everything in that place was made up of grease. The walls, the floor... the table was just a solid grease carving and the windows, well, even though they looked double glazed, I don't think that it was an extra layer of glass.I ordered a sandwich and Colin ordered the most grease-filled thing on the menu: The All Day Breakfast.

For the next few hours I worked away next to Colin, putting toys on shelves and so on, sneaking glances at him. Eventually I noticed that Colin was missing. So naturally I headed straight for the toilets, which are in the room with all the guys' lockers.

I was so cruel.

I knew he couldn't shit when someone was in the vicinity, and I didn't hide it.

As soon as I walked in, I heard him cough as to try and hide a grunt. I went into the stall just adjacent to him and took a long piss -- taking my time, in no rush, under no pressure, but imagining the pressure that Colin's bowels were under right now.

I washed my hands and left the room, slamming the door behind me. I waited a few seconds and walked back in again quite loudly and went to my locker just to get some stuff out... and then it happened.

Colin lost his shame.

He didn't even cough to hide the noise. He just released.

It sounded like gunfire from where I was situated -- hell, I nearly dived for cover. "Splat! Splat! Splat! Splat! Splat!" I heard a moan of despair coming from the stall and couldn't resist myself -- "You all right there, Colin?" "Erf... Mphm.... Feee... gurrgghh..." (That is an official transcript of the, err, words which left his mouth.)

Then another salvo of shit left his arse (I could tell by the splashes that accompanied).

Trying not to burst out laughing, I decided to have a shit in the stall next to him, y'know, to make him feel more comfortable. I sat down and released my beasts from their cage.

I tried again to communicate with Colin. "Colin... are you ok?"

This time I got a response. "I got shit on my shoes."

I tried, but I couldn't resist. I burst out laughing. He loved his shoes. "God, you must be really ill, are you sure you're all right?" I said as I was wiping my arse, hoping he might feel a bit more comfortable.

"Yeah, I'm fine now... I just need some toilet paper, I've ran out here." I felt so guilty -- I just used the last piece of toilet paper in the whole bathroom on me and my selfish ass.

"Sorry Colin, I just ran out too."

"Shit."

At this point I couldn't take anymore -- the smell of his achievement was starting to burn me. I quickly washed and left.

About 20 minutes later he emerged from the toilets -- a changed man. He had just taken his first step to Shamlessness, all because of me! Things were looking up for him -- until he bumped into the boss, who started to shout at him for spending 40 minutes on the toilet.

Then the smell hit. It's funny how you can't shout at a man who reeks of shit.
-- Dan


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