I know, we all do it. I do it. You do it. We all do it. I even enjoy it. I do not, however, enjoy the fact that others do it. Pooping is simply necessary for survival.
For some reason for me personally when I'm dating someone, or I am close with someone, the relationship sours in my mind the second I get any clues that they're pooping. For a long time I was able to ignore it and just think about other things, but my past few relationships have really brought to light how much I hate it.
It was a normal occurrence in my pan-sexual days where I'd go on a few dates (I always preferred women or trans-women/trans-men), and things would be going well. There'd eventually get to be a point where an overnight stay happens and they'd disappear to the bathroom for 7-10 minutes, the smell of Poo-Pourri fresh in the air, they'd walk out feeling proud and refreshed... myself? I felt disgusted. I never would verbalize my feelings as I always preferred to internalize.. I hate that goddamned smell. It's not a pleasant smell at all. It's a "there's poop here" flag, waved high and proud.
In the past this would be a small dip in a sin-wave that would be our budding relationship. I'd get over it, and forget. I'd do things that helped me avoid the fact that my partner poops. Something clicked in my head in recent years and now I constantly think about it. When someone I'm dating tells me he or she wants to go get food I'd hear "Let's go load up with future poop!" When we'd eat something healthier all I could think about is how disgusting this compose-like substance will be as it gets processed through their body likely ending up in my toilet the next day. I'm constantly worried about particles getting on me and my ex even refused to wash her hands after pooping because "she doesn't even touch herself" (this may be part of what asexualized me).
I. Fucking. Hate. That. We. Poop.
My girlfriend opened up to me a while back about a kink of hers, which, as you can see, involves shitting on people. Obviously I was very taken aback by this, and eventually the conversation led to her basically asking me if I would be willing to do it. At first I said “absolutely not.” But then after more talking, I decided that, despite the fact that the idea of doing this made me feel like my skin was going to turn inside out, I was willing to provide the woman I love with this experience just one time, since according to her nobody else had ever agreed to it. Of course, she was very excited, so we picked a day to do it and that was that.
Fast forward to last night. I’m laying in the bathtub, holding my breath, and she squats right above my body. I expected to feel some warm logs of human feces plop firmly onto my chest. Instead I got my entire body sprayed down by hot diarrhea. I have never seen her orgasm that quickly or intensely. Her whole body immediately began shaking and she had to grip the walls of the shower to keep herself upright as she kept going. The spray got all over my face and in my hair too. It was the most horrifying thing that’s ever happened to me.
I started screaming and she asked me what was wrong. I told her that I didn’t say she could have fucking diarrhea on me. I started throwing up in the bathtub and immediately turned on the shower head. She said she didn’t know it would come out like that but later after some intense arguing she admitted that she knew and did it anyway because she didn’t think there was a difference. I told her that there’s a big fucking difference. She thinks I’m overreacting but I honestly don’t think so. We haven’t talked much since because things are extremely awkward.
I guess my question is, what should I do now? I still really care about her but this feels like a violation. Can we have a normal sex life again? Any help is appreciated
