Poop Desperation Novels & Stories

Her full round breast poking my chest. “Nadia” “Yes?” “I love you,” I said without thinking. fuck! My fucking life is ruined.

There he was just like a lonely useless old man. Every day he eats using a tube. Not being able to eat solid food for almost two and a half months was the next heaviest ordeal he had to endure. Every day his food is disgusting porridge that is served like seasoned feces which is then directly drained into his tube so that it just goes into his stomach without him having to chew it. Sometimes the flirtatious nurses who take care of him tease him by saying that he is the sexiest big baby they have ever seen. To hell with the ridicule behind the compliment, he was clearly tortured and always nauseous every time his meal came.

Garbage cans overflowed onto the sidewalks, and gangs stood around menacingly, looking to start trouble. Dad steered me through the narrow streets, down a flight of uneven concrete steps with graffitied walls on either side. The scent of stale piss carried on the air, making it unpleasant to inhale. The grim sight of hypodermic needles laying on the ground brought a whole other level of unsanitary. We were walking among the filth. This was the smell of desperation and hopelessness. No place for anyone to be. Let alone me.

Because of your selfishness, my life has turned into hell. “God, I’m not questioning Your will for me… but why? Why me? W-Why? Do I deserve this? I know I’ve forgotten You, but I’m only human. I make mistakes, I drift away… is this the price? Will I ever be happy again? Or will You take my life while I’m still hurting?” When you have nothing else to hold onto, you even start questioning God—though I know it’s wrong. And yet… even with everything happening, I know You don’t give people a test they can’t bear.

It's fucking ironic and pathetic because it's myself i want to preserve you from. Because if I don't keep you far away, I'd ruin you and be your misery. Destroy your beautiful innocence, damage you. And at the end, leave deep scars both on the inside and outside of you. * A poem from Eliakim's POV. Eliakim Trypophobia (Fear or disgust of closely packed holes) That shit had got me disgusted ever since I came across a picture of gunea worm disease under someone's feet on Facebook. Damn!

It hurt so much my knees gave out. My whole body shook. I stumbled toward my mother's room. It was empty. A single letter rested on the pillow. My hands trembled as I opened it. [Dear Wilde,] [Don't be sad. Mom is just going to see your dad again.] [Mara is right. A life-saving debt is the hardest debt to repay. She saved me twice. Without her, I would've died a long time ago. But that debt is mine, not yours.] [You have your own future ahead of you. Don't let gratitude become your chains. Keep moving forward. Live a happy life.]

I shot her another quick glance and was relieved to at least see that she also appeared to be extremely embarrassed. How the hell had we even ended up on this subject, and why were we still going? "Fine. Yes, from p**n. Are you happy?" Zoey shook her head slightly. "No, that's not what I'm getting at. That's exactly what Stimulation Club is all about, isn't it? How are you supposed to create realistic-looking boobs from sight alone?"

Jeff pov I sat alone on my worn leather couch in the dim glow of the living room lamp while the house was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. Just the thought of Anna makes me want to ruin that innocent face while my hands are wrapped around my throbbing cock, already hard and leaking pre-cum. “Fuck Anna your eyes drive me and I can’t wait for you to beg to be fucked.” I voiced out as I closed my eyes and let the fantasy take over me.

The men roared and unloaded inside them, flooding their wombs and guts with massive, thick loads that overflowed instantly, pouring out in heavy white rivers down their bodies and pooling on the filthy floor. When they finally pulled out, both sisters’ pussies and assholes gaped obscenely, twitching and pulsing, leaking thick waterfalls of cum mixed with piss and squirt onto the floor beneath them. Sophia and Aurora lay side by side in the disgusting puddle, bodies trembling, covered head to toe in layers of warm, sticky filth. Sophia looked into the camera with dead, euphoric eyes and rasped: “We are nothing but disgusting, leaking fuckmeat now…”

We didn't just walk into a trap; we had crawled directly into the stomach of the machine that gave birth to our nightmares. We stood deep within the digital underworld—the absolute bedrock of the city's hidden infrastructure, where the code was so dense it felt like cold, wet obsidian beneath our boots. The countdown in my head was a terrifying, physical throb, with less than three minutes remaining before our real-world cores exploded from the mutual harvest overload.