Date: Tue, 6 Nov 2012 13:53:28 +0000 (UTC)
From: fiveholepunch@comcast.net
Subject: Caught Sniffing Part Six  Timmy's Revenge (SCAT)

Caught Sniffing   Part Six        Timmy's Revenge


Warning: the following chapter contains strong scat content.

I had many requests for dirtier undies, so here it is.  This will be the
last of the six installments in "Caught Sniffing."


I was still careful about searching after-hours for other boy's underwear
in the shower anteroom. Not just because I didn't want to get caught in my
secret vice, but also because I still worried about running across Johnny
and Eric when I was alone.  I knew that I could call on Hank and Roger for
protection, but I didn't want them to know, if possible, about my being
forced to kneel and sniff Johnny and Eric's penises.

My opportunity for revenge presented itself a couple of months after my
humiliation in the shower anteroom. It was the end of November, right after
Thanksgiving. Some boys had a four-day pass to go home and spend
Thanksgiving with their family. All in all, about two thirds of the student
body, myself included, stayed at school during the holiday. We had a big
holiday feast of turkey and all the trimmings on Thursday and a day off
from study on Friday. We slept late, played football for hours on the crisp
fall afternoon and ate plenty of leftovers.

It was after lights out on Friday night and I thought I would pay visit to
the dorm's restroom. One, after all that exercise and food I felt the need
to use the toilet and, two, I thought I could give a look to see if any
boys had left their underwear after showering. When I went in there was no
one about, so I decided to make a quick check for any forgotten
briefs. There was a towel and soap on top of one bench, but no underwear,
but I could just see in the shadows a pair of white cotton jockey shorts
that had been left behind under one of the other benches. I quickly
retrieved them and brought them into the light. I could see that they had
been well used. It looked like not only had they been used Friday during
all of our outdoor exertions, but had actually been worn longer than that
judging by the multiple yellow stains near the pouch. I looked to see what
boy's name was written on the tag sewn inside of the elastic at the back of
the briefs. My jaw dropped when I read the name – these were Johnny's
briefs!

I stood there for a moment. What should I do with this unexpected
opportunity?  Then it occurred to me. I took the briefs and made my way to
one of the stalls near the middle of the row. I bolted myself inside. I
took a moment and looked inside at the seat of Johnny's briefs. There were
definitely brown streaks that spoke of a day's hard exertion engaged in
sweaty sport. I gave a sniff to the material that had rubbed between the
cheeks of the seventh grader uncountable times; the earthy scent was
strongest where the material had been pressed against the ring of Johnny's
anus. Contemplating this, I could feel a wetness in my briefs near the tip
of my as yet un-stiffened penis. Away from this dark – centered fecal
smear, the odor of Johnny's adolescent sweat overwhelmed its earthiness. I
could feel a hot sensation in my scrotum; my penis lengthened
uncontrollably with the strength of the older boy's hormonal potency. By
the time I had sniffed the yellowed fly, my hardened penis pushed my cotton
underwear through the fly of my pajama bottoms.

This wasn't my only pressing problem. I felt a tickle at my anus. My
sphincter was being dilated by the pointy tip of the large BM filling my
rectum. Removing my feet from my slippers, I slid my pajama bottoms and
briefs off one leg at a time and hung them from the hook on the back of the
stall door.

I could now put my plan for revenge into action.

I stepped into Johnny's soiled briefs and pulled them up over my bottom
first and then, pulling the elastic forward, brought them up over my
erection. I could feel the stretched fabric cool on the wrinkled skin of my
excited scrotum. Johnny's soiled seat stuck clammily to my own
goose-pimpled cheeks as I sat down on the hard plastic ring of the
toilet. I held my breath and tightened my abdomen. I pushed. I could feel
my BM ready to come forth, but my sphincter held tight. I exhaled
forcefully. Subconsciously the power of the taboo of defecating in one's
pants clamped my anal ring firmly closed. I had to concentrate to relax my
anus. I grunted and gave another push. The tip of my turd pushed out no
more than an inch or two before coming into contact with the tautly
stretched cotton of Johnny's briefs. This unexpected resistance stopped my
bowel movement.  I hadn't foreseen this. Now what?

Before I could think of an answer to my own question, I heard the door on
the sixth grade side of the boy's lavatory open and another dorm resident
come in. I sat in the stall, erect, in Johnny's briefs, a BM partway out of
my ass and held my breath. I tried to inch it back in by squeezing my anus,
but it wasn't going anywhere. I could hear the other boy make his way down
the stalls.

"Hey, who's in there?"

I recognized Spencer's voice. Spencer was kinda goofy.

"It's me, Timmy."

"Oh.  Hi, Timmy. I just came in to use the bathroom."

"Spencer, shut up. I'm trying to take a dump."

"Oh, okay Timmy. I'll leave you alone."

"Good idea, Spense," I said sarcastically.

I reached behind me with my right hand and felt the pointy tip of my turd
pressing against the cotton. I gave a slight push to try to send it back
in, but that only mushed the end down. I could feel the pressure in my
rectum; this BM was probably eight inches long or more. I could hear
Spencer peeing in a urinal. I decided to press on. I pushed with a grunt. I
could feel the knobby turd emerge another few inches; the resistance of the
cotton seat became more pronounced. I shifted around on the toilet seat and
pulled the leg holes down to give the BM more room to emerge. I gave
another grunt and more of the thick log came out. I could feel it curving
in the seat of Johnny's briefs. Spencer had finished peeing and I heard a
flush.

"See ya, Timmy," Spencer called out before he left.

I heard the door close. I gave a final push and I felt the end of the firm,
long turd slip from my constricting hole. I now had a big load in my pants,
or should I say in Johnny's pants. I reached around and touched what felt
like two pounds of weight in the bottom of Johnny's underwear. My original
plan was to wrap Johnny's underwear around the BM and leave it on the bench
near the showers. I didn't think there would be this much. I stood up,
lowered the back of Johnny's briefs and dumped my BM into the toilet. When
it doesn't slide out of your ass, but drops all at once into the water, it
makes a thunderously big splash.

I could now smell and feel that I had a lot of filth smeared on my butt
cheeks. I slid Johnny's briefs off. There was a big, thick, creamy dark
brown smear spread inside of Johnny's underwear. I folded them up and put
them aside. I now tried to wipe my ass, but it was going to take a lot of
toilet paper. I flushed and used the toilet water and toilet paper to clean
my bottom. What a mess! By the time I was done, I had finally lost my
erection. I put my own bottoms back on, unlatched the stall and peeked to
see if anyone was coming.

After summoning up the courage, because after all there would be no way to
explain to anyone why you're carrying smelly, shit-smeared underwear, I
made a quick dash into the shower anteroom. I left the folded underwear on
the bench and quickly made my way to the sixth grade exit. As I lay in bed,
I thought of my revenge and fingered my penis.

It didn't take more than half a day for the story of Johnny's underwear to
make its way through the grapevine. It was discovered Saturday morning and
reported by several seventh graders in Johnny's dorm. Johnny was questioned
by a dorm supervisor and denied "having an accident." Johnny claimed that
some other boy must've done it. The adults really didn't believe him. The
students gave greater weight that it was evidence of a prank, but still
there was some talk that maybe Johnny did mess in his pants. I never talked
and no one ever found out what really happened.


All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2012.