Panicked, you shriek out, "Michael, Michael, let me out, man!"
He answers you with a satisfied burp and then a demeaning taunt, "Now, why would I do that, my friend. You feel so good squirming in there. By the way, I traced your downward passage feeling to wriggle the whole way. Besides, the only way to let you out is throwing up. You know I can't make myself throw up."
He was right. One time, a buddy of yours dared Michael to swallow a frog for 5 dollars. You even shot the thing with your phone camera and posted it on Youtube. Unfortunately, when it came time for Michael to gag himself and puke the frog back up, he couldn't do it. His stomach was too strong.The frog didn't have a happy ending, as Michael was proud to show you the next day as his unflushed turd floated in his toilet bowl. Occasional bones speckled the shit. You realize with dawning horror that you will share the same fate. Maybe you can make him throw up.
Lunging at his creased stomach wall, you think you can upset his stomach enough to make him puke. That's your only hope. Otherwise...
You pound on his stomach throwing your weight against it. Unfortunately for you, this has a couple of undesired effects. Firstly, Michael's stomach registers its new meal and begins to pump powerful hydrochloric acid onto you. Big slimy gobs of the foamy fluid drip on you and start to burn your skin. Secondly, the stomach shakes making you lose your footing. You slip and land in a growing pool of hot stomach juice. Thirdly, Michael addresses the situation in an embarassing way, "Whoa, simmer down, now. haha. no need to get all wound up. You're gonna be fine - and by fine, I mean digested and turned into nutritious boy soup. What did you think would happen, man. There's nothing you can do - all that jostling around in there is getting you nowhere; it makes me have to ...BURRRRP... see, now you have less air to contemplate your fate. I'm gonna let you out alright, tomorrow morning in the shitter. It's all gonna be on my terms. I swallowed you, I'm gonna digest you, and in a few short hours I'm gonna poop you back out, All you have to do is sit back and enjoy the ride, pal. Haha. Oh, and as a personal favor, when you come out tomorrow, can you try not to splash a lot of water back up on my asshole? I think that's both weird and gross. Say 'hi' to that frog for me when you join him in the sewer, allright?"
BUURRRPPP!
Shit! you're going to be shit! As you run out of air, you mercifully begin to black out - an escape from the agony of digestion. Only one thing left to do now - let go and get slowly turned into a thick greasy log of boy poop.
*******************Michael's POV**************************
Your once friend has stopped screaming and struggling, you figure correctly that he has expired. No big loss, you think, you were happy to put the pretentious little shit in his place. Now, for your agenda. As much as you'd love to sit back and privately enjoy the digestion of your former pal, you have to pack. A couple of your buddies are going up to the log cabin tonight.
On the road, you hear a peculiar gurgling sound coming from your gut. You don't know it, but the nutritious sludge you've turned your friend into has moved into your intestines for a slow meandering trip leading to your anus. A humiliating end to a demeaning death.
After you settle in and enjoy a night of campfire frivolity, it's time to hit the sack. You've got a big day tomorrow. Sharing a bed with your friend Mitch wasn't your first choice, but you're tired and ready to sleep. Just as you doze off, you feel his hand absently stretching out and landing open palmed on your stomach. "Heh! trying to feel for anyy evidence, huh?" you think. "There'll be plenty of evidence tomorrow morning - too bad nobody will know to look closely at it."
You wake up to the sound of your friends prepping for your long hike. Mitch is still lying asleep next to you. You decide to kill two birds with one stone. Throwing the covers over his face, you turn your boxered teenage rump, press it against his belly and let out a really rank fart. This does the trick! Mitch hops up swearing profanely at you. Afraid to get out of the covers because you're sporting boxer shorts that are curiously tented, you battle the feeling in your bladder and rectum as you wait for your morning wood to subside. Finally able to creep undetected to the bathroom, you slip on your sandals and make your way across the cold floor to the white porcelain tomb where you're about to drop off an old friend.
Closing yourself in the bathroom, you shuffle across the tiled floor, lift the seat and drop your boxers as you turn and squat. Unknown to you, Mitch is secretly praying for a little bit of privacy as the rest of your buddies make their way out the door. They yell in at you "Yo! Mike! Pinch it off - we've gotta make tracks." You reply with your nonchalant "Whoa, simmer down now." Thinking you're alone, you reach over and turn off the fan - you want to enjoy a dump the way nature intended, dammit. Mitch moves closer to the bathroom door and peers lustfully in at you through a crack in the door jamb.
You hear a groan coming from your full bowels presumably an anguished complaint from your digested friend - almost as if to say "fuck you - do you think I'm going to make this feel good for you?"
You reply in your boyish charm, "Whoa simmer down now - you're mine now. It's time to face the music - you're my poop, and i'm gonna enjoy this morning dump." As if to seal the deal on your immature taunting of your waste, you sing loudly and off-key through your grunts
"How do I say goodbye to what we had? - nnngggh
The good times that made us laugh - (FART) -haha
Outweigh the bad.
I thought we'd get to see forever - mmmhhhh
But forever's gone away - (plunk)
It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday." (PLOP)
Outside, Mitch, your closet voreraphile, voyeuristic secretly-crushing-on-you friend is nearly dying with desire watching your naked form do something so primal, so nonchalantly. Your well toned abs flex with effort. Your beautiful face is scrunched up in effort; your lips pursed, your brow furrowed as you push, Your hands are clasped - your arms resting on your lap as you squeeze. Your rippling torso meets the soft, silky, caramel colored skin of your plump, yet firm buttocks - only a couple of shades lighter than the dark brown shit now cascading out of your ass. As your thick thighs fold over the toilet seat bending at your knees your dark leg hair becomes more pronounced - leading all the way to the dark blue cat in the hat boxers draped over your perfectly shaped sandaled feet. Your toes stretch and relax as you work through your dump.
As you near the end of your dirty deed, the bowel movement has indeed turned quite pleasureable for you. Medium soft turds start shooting out your butthole, and to your chagrin, splash water up your crack. Oh well, you think. The smell of your rotten waste has wafted up to you. Woah! that's awful. Poor guy - if I'd've known I'd turn him into something that smelled this bad, I would have thrown him up. haha. naaah. Not many turds ca claim to have been such relaxing dumps. This was a special honor bestowed on your friend. You rock onto one cheek to wipe the offensive offal from your anus. Plus, plenty of guys have lusted after your hot ass - even Mitch outside your door, but this special guy, gets to be plastered all over it. Finally clean, you stand up to admire your work. As you do, Mitch gets a good look at your asshole. It almost winks at him as if to say "Don't worry, pal - you'll get your chance to do the same..."
The poor toilet bowl is practically filled with the hugest dump you can remember. Giant turds ranging in color from your light brown skin color to dark brown. Heh! Even a couple of the softer turds are green color. You wonder if human flesh does that to poop. Looking at one of the older dryer turds, you can see compacted nodules of dryer feces, the turd smooths out as it tapers down and lightens in color. Anyway, the heat radiating from the crap lifts a horrifyingly sulfuric/phosphoric smell. A smell you will be all to happy to share with your friends. You decide to prank them - leaving the bowl unflushed. A mean thing to do, yes, but nowhere near as mean as eating and digesting your friend. You pull your boxers up. A sudden blast erupts from your freshly empty ass. "Whoa, simmer down now..."
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