Teah Drops a P-Bomb – Fetish

Teah often visited the local hotels to do photo and video shoots with photographers and videographers.

Her personal bag held: female hygiene products, travel size toiletries, three sexy outfits, three sets of clean underclothes, three basic tunic shirts, three pairs of leggings, baby wipes, and quilted toilet tissue.

She also brought along high heels, evening sandals, platform heels, her house slippers, and her flip flops.

Teah had recently started carrying a 38 special with her on her travels. At one shoot, things had gotten ugly and Teah had narrowly escaped an attempted rape.

Teah had discharged her firearm, and if she had hit her mark, the rapist would have been one testicle short of a ballsac. Since then, she’d been armed and ready to put anybody in check who tried to disrespect her.

The production people that Teah worked with were referred to her by Neil David, a porn producer, talent agent, and owner of Outhouse Entertainment.

On camera and online, Teah was Madam Dookie, The Diva of Diarrhea, The Cover Girl of Constipation.

Well into her early fifties, Teah had the body and allure of a matron in her late twenties. Men lusted after her, but they had no clue what sort of kinky woman that she really was. Teah was the sort of person who’d fart in front of a man and blow the bathroom up.

The video shoot Teah went to was for a Fart Fetish website that was part of Outhouse Productions. She was asked by another producer to star in a “fart clip”.

Teah arrived at a hotel that was pretty pricey; her room and meals were all paid for in advance. Her only job at the shoot was to break wind for the camera, and be sexy about it.

Teah spoke with the director, Clint, about how he wanted the shoot to go. He seemed very professional and knew exactly what he wanted to see.

Teah’s choice of outfit was very basic: a black, lacy bra and a black thong. Clint wanted Teah to wear her evening sandals, but she chose to go barefoot to avoid twisting her ankles while she changed positions.

Other girls were at the shoot too: a younger black girl named Kenya, a mature Hispanic woman named Ana Selena, and a Jewish girl named Rena.

Teah watched Kenya, Ana, and Rena do their fart sessions. The cameraman had a palmcorder he would move toward the model when she passed gas, and then he would move it away from the model’s butt when she changed positions. Teah took note of all of this.

When it came time for Teah to do her session, the other models were asked to leave. Though Teah stood in and watched their sessions, she just didn’t feel right letting them watch her fart. But, Teah’s flatulence was the last thing she’d have to be concerned about.

“Okay,” Clint said. “You’ll be on your knees, on the couch, letting a few rip. You can change positions if you feel like that’ll keep the gas moving.”

“Can I talk to the camera?” Teah asked.

“If you want,” Clint said. “Some models like to talk shit while they shoot, other models don’t. So, when you’re ready, Madam Dookie, we’ll get started.”

Teah sat on the couch facing the cameraman.

“Hey nasty boys. This is Madam Dookie, and I really have some bad gas that I want to share with you.”

Teah got up, turned around, got on her knees and spread her plump butt cheeks open. The cameraman got in close, checking the flip-out LCD as he did, making certain Teah’s anus was in clear view.

With her cheeks spread, Teah focused on opening up her rectal air duct. A few low sputters came from her anal opening. She breathed out and laughed.

“Do you smell that gas?” Teah asked.

She released some more low farts, feeling air in her stomach back building. That was what she wanted.

“I’ve got so much gas,” Teah declared.

Her tender anus pushed out with a louder fart.

“My tummy is so bloated,” she announced.

Teah was really into it. Her anus was beginning to open up and rip some hard, loud farts.

“I can smell what I ate,” Teah said.

Teah used her abdominal muscles to push out more noxious gas. She was popping off those farts one after another, moaning with pleasure as she did.

Kenya quietly came back in the room and watched Teah make colonic music with her butthole. Kenya dipped into the hallway and waved for Ana and Rena to come back in. Kenya, Ana and Rena all watched Teah who was hard at work producing sphincter symphonies.

“Get in close,” Teah addressed the cameraman.

She moved her hands under her gluteal folds and opened the thick lips of her vulva, which looked like a vertical hotdog bun, and showed off her urethra.

Suck the farts from my ass,” Teah ordered. She passed gas and said, “Get your nose up there. Lick my asshole while I blow farts into your mouth.”

Teah continued to blast putrid, rectal air from her backside, pleasing the director Clint and making the other models who struggled to pop a few consecutive farts jealous. Moreover, Kenya, Ana and Rena admired Teah, for her bravery to do fart porn at her age and for her ability to deliver the gassy goods on demand.

“Dirty-minded fuckers,” Teah continued. “I know you naughty boys dream about smelling the farts of a woman you like. I know for a fact that other men want to smell and taste my dirty farts.”

Teah fingered her butthole a bit with the manicured nail of her index finger.

“Now what is a fart?” Teah asked. “It’s the cry of a coming turd about to debut like a groundhog.”

Clint laughed and nodded his head. Kenya rolled her eyes. Ana and Rena just kept watching.

Teah was quiet for a moment. She kept her cheeks spread open while she lowered her bottom, letting her butt rest on the heels of her feet. She started releasing low, barely audible farts.

I came here to share,” Teah said. “Share with you my dirty ass belches. They’re so stinky and rotten.”

An aching sensation grew in Teah’s rectum and the intensity mounted as she tried to force out more gas.

“Let me see if I can push out some more.”

Teah released her butt cheeks and bounced up and down to get things going again. When she felt more gas building up, she opened her cheeks to fire off.

“I had homemade lasagna,” Teah said, letting loose a few butt sputters. “I can smell the ricotta cheese.”

Teah leaned forward and stuck her butt out.

“Let me see if I can do one more.”

She let her anus open to accommodate a brief fart, followed by a peanut-sized morsel of poop.

The cameraman looked at Clint for instructions, but Clint was hypnotized by Teah’s enormous booty.

Teah closed her eyes and prepared for the big grand finale. A long pfft sound came from Teah’s anus as it gradually spread open to reveal the knobby head of a toffee toned turd. Teah felt the turd down there and didn’t have the courage to suck it back in.

Instead, Teah’s vulva lips opened and a single, thick drib of white cream dropped on the sofa.

By this time, Clint was rock hard. The cameraman, however, was repulsed. Kenya, Ana and Rena moved closer to get a good look at Teah’s crowning turd.

“Is she about to shit?” Kenya asked Clint.

“Cut,” Clint said, remembering what the shoot was about. He watched Teah’s cheeks close and hide her opened anus. Clint wondered about the thing in Teah’s rectum that he saw peeking out of her.

Teah got off the couch and put on her flip flops.

“How’d I do?” Teah asked Clint.

“I got more than enough. Thank you.”

After Teah moved on, Clint looked at the poop morsel she left on the sofa cushion. He made certain that the cameraman and the other three models weren’t looking before he picked up her poop ball. His index finger and thumb tested the morsel’s solidity.

As Clint suspected, the piece of poop was hard. He then chucked the poop ball into a nearby waste basket and went to the bathroom to wash his hands.


Teah returned to her hotel room that she shared with Kenya. Kenya was talking with Ana and Rena while Teah went through her travel bag.

Kenya watched Teah closely while Ana shared the latest studio gossip. Teah put on her slippers and went into the bathroom, reading her text messages.

Teah entered the bathroom and went over to the toilet. She got her leggings and thong down and sat.

Teah scrolled through messages and came to a text from Hannah, asking if Teah had found any potential models to add to their website.

Teah began writing her reply back to Hannah, when an unholy butt beast opened up her anus wide, pieces of poop dropping into the toilet water like pebbles.

The stink of shit was in the air, but Teah was so busy texting, she didn’t think to turn on the vent fan.

Outside the bathroom was Kenya, who could smell Teah’s shit through the door. Kenya covered her nose and returned to her bed with Ana and Rena.

“She’s in there taking a shit,” Kenya told them.

“Like you never blew the bathroom up,” Ana said.

“I light an incense, or turn on the vent fan. She just in there stinking up the bathroom.”

“You sound jealous,” Rena said.

“I gotta dookie too,” Kenya admitted. “But, I’m not going to do what she’s doing.”

“Let Teah handle her business,” Ana said. “She’s clearly more experienced than all of us. You heard her ripping those farts. You could hardly keep your horn tooting for Clint during your shoot with him.”

“I’m just saying,” Kenya said.

“Saying what?” Teah asked abruptly, scaring Kenya by standing there in only her bra, holding her cellphone.

Ana and Rena kept their eyes low, out of respect.

“I heard everything you said about me, Kenya. You sound like you need to poop, but you’re holding it in.”

“I’m fine,” Kenya said. “Thank you very much.”

Teah pointed to Ana with her cellphone in hand.

“Boricua. You got a cellphone?”

Ana showed Teah her cellphone.

“I want you to record me and Kenya.”

“Excuse me?” Kenya asked.

Teah sat on the bed next to Kenya.

“Kenya, I’ve got a huge turd stuck in my butthole right now. I sucked it back in, because I want to have a contest with you, since you like running your mouth.”

“I ain’t shittin’, unless somebody pay me.”

Teah took a few 100’s out of her bra.

“I bet you five hundred dollars cash that you can’t shit a turd longer and wider than I can.”

Kenya’s eyes twinkled at the sight of the money.

Ana and Rena both sat still, as if the black women before them would begin a fight, and one of them would have to shout “World Star” while they got it on.

“What’s it gonna be?” Teah asked Kenya.

Kenya looked to Ana and Rena.

“Hey,” Teah barked. “You game or not?”

Kenya thinned her eyes and stood up.

“All right, old woman. I’ll take that bet.”

“Good,” Teah got up. “We both shit over the edge of the bath tub. Widest, longest turd wins. I’ll give you a moment to get your money together.”

Teah went back into the bathroom and waited.

“You don’t have to do this,” Ana said.

Kenya went into her full cup bra and took out $200.

“Lend me three hundred,” Kenya said to Ana.

“Hell no,” Ana said. “Don’t make a bet if you can’t cover it.”

“Rena, loan me three hundred dollars.”

Rena only nodded her head “no” to Kenya.

“Teah means business,” Ana warned Kenya. “She almost killed that German photographer a few months ago, because he was on some rapist type shit.”

“She ain’t no O.G. out here,” Kenya said. “The old bitch can barely keep her tits from sagging.”

“You gonna go against Madam Dookie, knowing she got a reputation for fucking up males and females?”

“Lemme make this five hunnit dollas,” Kenya said.

Kenya entered the bathroom to discover Teah standing near the sink with her hands on her hips.

“You ready?” Teah asked.

“Whatever,” Kenya said.

“I’ll hold the money,” Rena said.

Teah gave Rena her $500. Kenya turned her back to Teah so that Teah couldn’t see her givng her $200 to Rena. Kenya didn’t make eye contact with Teah as she removed her thong and flung it away. Teah pointed Kenya toward the bathtub with two folded towels on the edge of it and two towels in the tub for their feet.

Kenya sat down with her feet on the towel.

Teah sat next to Kenya and adjusted her bottom.

“All right, Boricua.”

Ana held her cellphone, trying to get both of their rotund butts into frame. But, there was a issue.

“I can’t see what I’m doing,” Ana said.

“Go into my bag,” Teah told Ana. “I have a selfie stick you can use. Grab my LCD flashlight too.”

“I’ll get it,” Rena said.

Kenya struggled to hold on to her poop. Teah, on the other hand, sat there patiently.

Rena returned with Teah’s selfie stick and Teah’s LCD flashlight. Ana put her cellphone into the selfie stick holder and flipped the camera setting on her cellphone to face her.

Rena got down and shined the LCD light off of the side of the tub, below Teah and Kenya’s butts.

Ana tilted the end of the selfie stick on an angle so that she could see Teah and Kenya’s buttholes.

“We’re good to go,” Ana said.

Teah looked over at Kenya.


“Let’s just do it,” Kenya said.

Teah and Kenya began to defecate. Ana and Rena marvelled at the atrocious odors and the big turds being birthed by the black women before them. Teah was breathing between pushing down on her hard stool, while Kenya was straining to get her stubborn shit out.

“Breathe,” Teah coached Kenya. “Don’t strain.”

Kenya had her eyes shut, teeth clinched. Her anus was blocked with a knobby poop ball, while Teah’s anus expanded effortlessly around her firm motion.

Teah’s turd dangled from her at 7 inches, and it was still coming strong. When Kenya’s turd broke off and hit the floor. She knew that she had lost to Teah.

Kenya pushed out the rest of her poop and got up without wiping herself. Teah cleaned her bottom with baby wipes, and then quilted toilet tissue.

Teah took the money from Rena and counted it.

Ana and Rena watched the expression on Teah’s face as Teah counted out $700. Teah quickly met with Kenya and showed Kenya four fifty-dollar bills.

“Where’s the rest of it?” Teah asked.

“That’s all I got,” Kenya told her.

“The bet was five hundred,” Teah said. “You owe me three hundred dollars.”

“Look, you won. Take your money and leave.”

Teah lowered her hand with the money.

“So, you wanna go like that, huh?”

“Listen, old woman. Take your broke-down, triflin’ ass home and babysit your grandkids.”

“Run me my money,” Teah said.

Kenya got up in Teah’s face.

“Bitch, fuck you.”

Teah exhaled and went into her travel bag.

Before Kenya could text another letter, a cold steel barrel was put to her face.

Teah had her Smith & Wesson 642 against Kenya’s pretty, young face.

“The last person in this industry who tried to fuck me over, almost got his balls blown off.”

Though Kenya was scared, she looked Teah square in the eyes and said, “Don’t pull a gun, unless you’re…”

Teah shoved the steel cylinder of the Airweight revolver down against Kenya’s genitals. Teah opened the hood of Kenya’s vulva until the end of the barrel stroked Kenya’s clitoris.

Tears ran from Kenya’s eyes, because she was just a sheltered sorority girl who had never seen a real gun up close before. Ana and Rena didn’t make any sudden moves that would make Teah discharge the weapon.

“Oh, I’m ready to use this. How would you like it if I surgically removed your clitoris?”

“Please don’t,” Kenya cried.

“Don’t what?” Teah asked.

“Don’t shoot me.”

Teah brought the lightweight alloy frame revolver back up to Kenya’s face, letting Kenya get a good sniff of her own rotten cunt. Teah got close to Kenya.

“We had a bet, you little fuck up. You’re going to pay me what you owe me by working for me.”

“I got people,” Kenya reminded Teah.

“I’ve got plenty of ammunition. But, word on the streets will be that Kenya Brown doesn’t pay her bills.”

Teah backed away with the revolver on Kenya.

“You think Neil David’s going to fuck with you after he hears about this little stunt?”

Kenya kept her eyes low and decided not to say another word. She didn’t want to lose any potential jobs that Outhouse Productions had lined up for her.

And, she didn’t want to get shot.

“I’ll work with you,” Ana said to Teah.

“You covering her ass?” Teah asked Ana.

“Kenya can’t shit like I can, so you won’t make much of your money back anyway.”

“I’ll work with you too,” Rena said.

Teah lowered her revolver.

“Talk some sense into your friend. If she keeps on the way she’s going, she’s gonna end up dead.”

Teah put her 38 special into her travel bag.

“You got my number, Boricua?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ana said, respectfully.

“Send me the video from your phone.”

“I will.”

Teah quickly put on her tunic shirt and her leggings before she shouldered her travel bag.

“All of you ladies work for me now. I don’t give a fuck if you’re giving good head or you’re in bed with your talent agent. When I send a text, you drop what you’re doing and you come. Or, get fucked up.”

After Teah left, Ana and Rena looked to Kenya.

“You owe us,” Ana reminded Kenya.

Kenya bobbed her head, grateful to still be alive.

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