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The Chosen Two, With the Chosen Guts

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"Hold up, B, I gotta drop one."

Buffy sighed.  "I need a noun to work with here, Faith."  Then she caught Faith undoing her belt.  Oh.  "Don't...don't go here.  It's someone's grave, and I think that might be kinda bad.  I have a few designated bathroom spots for all-night patrols."

"Man, all of Boston was a designated bathroom spot."

Buffy had to crack a smile at this.  "Even the Harvardy parts?"

"Especially those.  Some rich kid wakes up to a giant steamer outside his window?  Warms my fuckin' heart."

They ducked between a couple dumpsters.  Before Buffy could turn away, Faith's pants were on their way down.  She had kind of a cute butt, thought Buffy.  She squatted, her back toward Buffy.  "Step back a couple paces," she said.  "This thing's loaded."

Buffy had a pretty clear view as a thick snake of shit began to slither out of Faith's hole.  This shouldn't be sexy, thought Buffy.  This should be gross.

"So does this happen to you, too?" asked Faith.

"What?"

"Ever since I was called, I eat like a horse and take about four, five big dumps every day."

She wasn't kidding when she said 'big,' either.  Faith had left a ten-inch turd on the pavement, and she was still going.  The crackle of trapped gas escaping might have been extra loud, or Buffy might have been listening extra close.  The smell was rank, too.  I mean, everyone's poop smelled, obviously, but Faith was a special case.

"I, um, yeah."  If they were having this conversation, they were having this conversation.  Faith had no idea this was like dirty talk for Buffy. Buffy was still kind of surprised herself.  She wanted to just be casual.  She also kind of wanted to be very not-casual.  "I kind of hold it at school--the bathrooms are pretty gross, and the toilet paper's all scratchy."

Faith began work on a third turd.  "You must fuckin' destroy toilets."  She exhaled heavily as she pinched it off.  "Bet it feels pretty good, letting it all out, though."

Jeez, Faith, thought Buffy, press my buttons harder, why don't you?  "I kind of have to flush a few times...you know, during the process."

This was true.  Willow's mom had one of those low-flow toilets that are supposed to waste less water, and she'd clogged it before getting even a fraction of her load out.  That was how Willow found out about slayer-poops, which, incidentally, Buffy really needed a better name for.  

Buffy blushed. "It's such a relief, though, yeah." It was amazing, in fact.  Letting the weight and pressure build up all day, until she had to clench with all her slayer strength to keep it all in, and then sitting down and just letting go, letting all the waste leave her until she was clean and empty.

"Did your watcher tell you this was gonna happen?"  Faith was pulling up her pants.  She hadn't wiped.  Buffy had thought to offer some tissues, but she didn't.  Probably because the thought of Faith walking around all messy kind of turned her on.

"No."

"Figures.  A bunch of old men don't tell us what's gonna happen to our bodies because they think it's gross."

"Do, um, do you get the gas, too?" asked Buffy.  At this point she was kind of pushing the subject, just wanting to talk all about her bowels with someone cute.  "Because I kind of noticed after a while, you know, 'Hey, I didn't used to fart this much.'"

"I wish it was that hard to notice.  First meal after I get called, I bloat up, like so much it hurts, and I spend the night just letting rip.  It's not always that bad, but, like, every time I eat, all the gas comes at once, you know?"

That, Buffy would like to see.

"So," said Faith.  "I gotta reload this baby."  She patted her stomach.

"There's like one burger joint that's open this late."

"Cool.  Let's eat some dead cows."

They ordered nearly twenty bucks worth of value menu items.  Buffy told the cashier they were having guests.

Faith's bed was pretty much the only surface at the motel room to eat off of, so they sat cross-legged across from each other.  Faith had stripped down from her leathers into boyshorts and a men's sleeveless undershirt.  It was, thought Buffy, a very good look.  She took a handful of fries off the communal pile, and ate them all at once.  The girl wolfed her food, for sure.  She'd eaten two of the little dollar-twenty-five cheeseburgers in just a few minutes.

"Just, um, full disclosure.  The stuff from this place goes right through me," said Buffy.  This wasn't false.  It wasn't painful or anything, but within an hour there'd be the first of a few major mudslides.

"Cool.  You're the big spoon tonight, then."

Buffy must have looked very shocked.  She wasn't dense enough to think Faith was straight, but this was proceeding just a little too much like one of her fantasies to believe.

"Busting your chops, Summers." Faith paused.  "I mean, unless you're, like..."

"I kind of am, like..."

"Well, shit.  Hello, fellow girl-kisser!"  Faith high-fived Buffy. "Can't say I showed you my ass in the best context for that sort of thing, but fuck it."  She lifted a cheek and farted.  "We're the chosen two, with the chosen guts."

The fart was not one that faded quickly.

"God, B, I'm sorry about that one.  Onions fuck me up."  Buffy took note of the fact that Faith hadn't picked the onions off of any of her burgers.

"It's okay.  You missed me when I thought protein shakes were a good idea.  Mom finally had to lay down the law on that one."

"Speaking of, you're probably in curfew territory right now, huh?"

"I, um...yeah."

"Well, I can kick you out, or we can screw and then I kick you out"

"What?"

"Again, that's a joke unless you're down for it."  She stood up and started pacing.  Buffy was still working on her burgers.  Buffy guessed Faith thought she wasn't looking, because she gave the cleft of her ass a long scratch through her underwear, then sniffed her fingers and made a little 'whoa' face.

"I'm gonna hit the shower."  That bad, huh? thought Buffy.  "Join if you want."

Through the bathroom door, Buffy had a good view of Faith undressing.  She did it hastily, tossing her clothes in a pile by the toilet.  It was now or never, thought Buffy.  She kicked off her boots and socks, then walked onto the cold tile and took off the rest of her clothes.  The shower was pretty cramped, so she and Faith were brushing against each other without even trying.   Faith was actually concentrating on getting clean.  She soaped her underarms and face, with her back to Buffy, as though the other Slayer wasn't even there.

Buffy decided to make a move.  She lathered up her hands and began to knead Faith's buttocks.

"Ass girl, huh?" said Faith.  "Wouldn't say no to you washing my crack, but it's pretty nasty back there."

"I, um, don't mind."

"Kinky."

Well then.  Buffy had her opening.  If she wanted to take it.  This wasn't a turn-on that was easy to share.  But if not now, with Faith, then when?  The more time passed between the initial poop conversation and the revelation of 'hey, I'm a big pervert,' the weirder it would be.

Buffy slid her palm between Faith's buttocks.  The other slayer spread her cheeks with her hands.  Buffy could see brown smudges here and there.  She attacked them vigorously.  The soap and running water kept any shit from sticking to her hand.  Buffy didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Faith farted on Buffy's hand.  A long one, worse-smelling than the last.  Her wet asshole gave it a sound that, in another context, would have suggested more than a little follow-through.

"Rude!"

"Come on, B, you love it.  I was kinda suspicious ever since I saw you looking just a little too long at that load I dropped."

Buffy was bright red.

"Oh, jeez, don't be all shy now after you scrubbed my dirty asshole."

"It's kind of an easy thing to be shy about."

"I love it, B!  Shitting's great.  It doesn't get me horny, but damn if it isn't up there on my list of things to do."

"Well, lucky us, we do it plenty."

"Tell me about it.  I get up at least once a night, or else I drop a monster load in the morning."

"Ever get constipated?  I once didn't go for two days, and then I missed pretty much all of English class just pooping.  I clogged two toilets.  Two!"

"I, uh, I don't.  Opposite problem, usually."

"Really?"  Buffy said it in what she hoped was a flirtatious voice.

Faith slid a hand between Buffy's thighs.  "Yeah.  Pretty sexy, right?  Me with farty, greasy diarrhea just pouring out my asshole?"  

She ran her fingers across Buffy's labia, delicate and teasing.  It didn't take much to send a shiver through her.  She'd been at a low simmer ever since Faith had shit in the street.  

"I once shit myself so bad."  She slid a finger into Buffy.  "I had to go up to, like, fuckin' Tufts or someplace to stop a vamp eating college kids.  And I'm on the other end of the Red Line from the Davis stop.  About two stops in, I realize that, holy shit, I have to go."  

Buffy traced Faith's asshole with her finger, as Faith played with Buffy's cunt gently.  Both were more exploring than fucking.

"I hold it and hold it, but then the car jostles and I explode.  Like, just this huge liquid fart that everyone can hear.  It's all gritty and sticky and it's everywhere."  She farted again, right onto Buffy's finger.  "Like, down my thighs, up the front of my panties, everywhere."

Buffy felt a cramp go through her stomach. Her bowels were clearing the decks, getting ready to receive the mass quantities of hamburger.  Not now.

Faith stuck a second finger into Buffy, began moving them more vigorously.  "I get up, and a chunk of shit slides down my leg, out my pants, onto the floor of the train car.  And I do the whole slay with shit in my pants, just crusting up and drying."

She began to devote her attention to Buffy's clit.  "I keep having to go again on the way back, so, you know, fuck it.  I just keep squirting shit into my pants, all the way back home.  Bet you wish you could have been there."

Buffy felt her bowels shifting.  She was nearly to orgasm, too.  She clenched tight as pressure built in her rectum.  Faith was doing something she couldn't entirely figure out, but, oh, God, did it work.  She gasped Faith's name as electricity shot through her.  Her legs were shaky and she was barely holding onto the load of shit inside her.  Faith didn't stop fingering her. Buffy hadn't come like this, ever.  She was quivering all over, barely aware of the sounds she was making, just letting the sensation pulse through her.  Finally, she began to return to the real world.  She hadn't shit herself.  Good.

"Be right back," she said hastily, and dashed to Faith's toilet.  She relaxed her viselike clench, and a rush of slop made its way noisily out of her.

"Hey, just so you know, that thing's pretty wimpy." said Faith.

"Well, this isn't all that solid, so I think we're alright."  Buffy kept shitting, pausing a few seconds before another wave blasted out of her.

Faith stepped out of the shower and crouched at Buffy's feet.  She wrinkled her nose.

"Yeah, it's pretty bad," said Buffy.

"I'm just impressed that you held it."

"Me too."

"Means I didn't make you come hard enough."

"Well, I'm gonna have to go again before the night is out."

Faith farted, adding to the stink of the room. "Yeah, same."  She grinned.  "Wanna make it a challenge?"

Buffy smiled back.  "You'll lose.  I'll be so good you'll crap all over yourself."

"And you'll be so turned on by that that I'll have no trouble making you lose control."

Buffy began to wipe.  Faith was proving to be very, very interesting.

Chapter Text

There had been some more bowel movements, some kissing, and some idle fingering. Then nothing. Faith let Buffy get dressed and told her 'catch you later.' The weekend passed, and Buffy didn't see her or hear from her. And now there was school. Willow wasn't exactly Ms. Relationship Advice, but she was someone to talk to. Not that Buffy was telling her this was about Faith. Or, you know, about the whole poop element.

They ducked into the girls' room to talk.

"So, this mystery guy just went poof?"

"Mystery girl, actually."

"Oh." Willow's eyes lit up. "Oh. That's so cool!"

Buffy blinked.

"You know...that you're so...um...casual about it," Willow stammered, "I mean, about the fact that it's a girl. I didn't want to be like 'oh now Buffy's casual smoochies girl' or anything. Unless, I mean, you want to be, in which case rah rah rah liberated something or other."

"I don't want to be casual smoochies girl. Or at least I want to know that's what I'm doing, you know. Right now, things are all...flippy floppy."

"Hold that thought, Buffy." Willow entered a stall. "I kinda came here for, you know, the intended purpose."

She sat, and unleashed a booming fart. This was many farts' worth of gas.

"Still holding 'em in?"

"Ever since the oral report incident of '95."  Another truly massive fart echoed in the bowl.  "As to smoochy-girl, yours is not a problem that I have any experience with.  You might as well be asking a nun."  This was followed by a third bellow from Willow's rear.  

Her gas was strong, too, but not that offensive.  It smelled...healthy?  Buffy thought that even if she didn't have any sort of fetish, she wouldn't mind sniffing farts like these.  Down, girl, she thought to herself.

"Are you feeling all right, Will?"

"Oh, I'm fine.  Oz and I made a decision that the munchies were no excuse to eat garbage."  Buffy still wasn't over the fact that Oz had gotten Willow to so much as try weed.  "So last night we got a bunch of chopped veggies, a big tub of hummus, and way too many granola bars.  Turns out that's a whole lot of fiber.  Oh, speak of the devil."

A crackling noise was audible, and the smell of fecal matter (again, surprisingly inoffensive) found its way into Buffy's nose.

"Oh, wow," said Willow to herself.

"Oh wow?"

"Nothing, just...this is, like, a really good poop."  She paused.  "You didn't need to hear that," she said sheepishly.

Buffy wasn't going to pry.  It felt pervy.  This was Willow.

"Seriously, though," said Willow.  She wasn't making this easy.  Buffy was probably going to end up thinking about this while masturbating over the next couple of days, and feeling all weird about it.

"So, about mystery girl."  Buffy tried to steer the conversation away from what Willow was doing in there.

"Is she someone I know?"

"A little."

"She might be scared?" 

"She's definitely not scared about having done stuff with a girl."

"No, like, now I have to figure out what I'm feeling scared.  Like how I pretty much handle every single feeling of attraction to someone new.  Glad I don't have to worry about that anymore."  She paused.  "Oh, wow, I'm still going.  Sorry."

"I mean, you are clearly very absorbed in this poop you're taking."

"It's just really comfortable.  Huge, yet comfortable."

"Just like a great big pillow."

"I mean actually that's pretty accurate."

Buffy seriously needed a cold shower.

*******

Buffy did, in fact, think about Willow when she masturbated, and it was, in fact, weird.  But kind of incredible.

A stone hit her window.  She pulled on some pajama bottoms and went to the window.  Faith was standing on the lawn.  Buffy pointed to the tree.  Faith climbed up, and took a seat on the roof.  She lifted a cheek and farted wetly.  "Hey, you.  Been having some real greasy farts, which, like, that's just Tuesday for me.  But I picked up some info on a nest of vamps.  Figure we get a little slay in, pop a couple ex-lax, make a night of it."

"Faith, it's a school night."

"Yeah, and there's vampires.  Do your sacred duty, B."

"Already did.  It didn't flush."

"Can I see?"

Buffy shook her head. "It flushed fine.  I was just punning.  Look, if you want to hang, I can get out my sleeping bag and you can stay over.  Mom likes you, so it'll be OK."

"Oh, come on, B.  I'm jonesing for a little unh."

"Violent or sexual?"

"Yes."  She farted again, long and bubbly.  "You know you wanna see where that's going," she said, pointing at her ass, as though she needed to make the point.  "You know you wanna see the mark I just left."

Buffy did.  But the school night thing was a bit of a bluff.  The fact was that it felt strange and bad being shown the door the way she had last time, and she didn't want a repeat of that.

"Rain check, OK?" she said.

"Fine.  Wednesday at dusk. That burger place."  That was easy.  "That said, I am legit about to shit my pants here."

"I'll show you where the bathroom is."

Buffy went in with Faith.  Faith didn't object.  The other slayer rushed to the toilet and a symphony of farts and plops began.  This did not smell inoffensive or healthy.  This smelled like death.

"Are you..."

"Not okay.  Really having a day here."  She had to speak up a little to be heard over the extended watery fart that came out of her.  "Son of a fucking bitch."

Faith was sweating a little, doubled over and clutching her stomach.  It was impossibly sexy.

"This is..."

"Your fantasy, yeah?  Bet I could make you come just by brushing the crotch of your pants."

"I feel kind of guilty."

"Don't be.  This isn't even near my top ten.  Remember I said this was a thing with me?"

Buffy sort of thought that was just dirty talk.  "I guess."

"Yeah.  I got stomach problems coming out my ass."

Buffy smiled, "So to speak."

Faith launched another barrage of loose shit.  The stink really was unbelievable.  It occurred to Buffy that her mom was probably going to blame her for the smell.  And then she'd ask if she wanted to stay home from school.  And then she could sneak out and see Faith during the day.  And then...what?  Makeouts and pooping and see you later?  Faith was inscrutable.  Or she was exactly what she seemed to be--Miss Emotionally Empty Fetish Sex 1998.  Maybe Buffy was kidding herself.  Maybe she should just settle for wham, bam, thank you ma'am.

Faith stood up.  A frothy, chunky brown, soup filled the bowl, significantly above the water level.  The whole back of the toilet bowl was thoroughly splattered.  She gestured toward it, "There ya go, B.  I'll go home unwiped.  Let you think on that."  She pulled up her pants, flushed, and walked back to Buffy's room.

She blew a kiss as she climbed out the window.  "Hey, I know you're gonna rub one out after that.  Come a second time for me, 'kay?"

Buffy sighed.  Faith was, if nothing else, willing to indulge her weird poop thing.  And, god, that counted for a lot.  It was like the universe was dangling something wonderful in front of her, daring her to take it--a body like that, apparent digestive issues, one hell of a sexual appetite.  It wasn't just that this was improbable, it was that Buffy had no idea what Faith wanted out of it.

She put it out of her head and slid her hand down her pants.

Chapter Text

Faith dashed to the motel toilet and let loose. Half a walk back from B's and she was already desperate again. This was a bad one. Her asshole was raw from all the wiping she'd been doing today, and it seriously burned as she shat. She'd been like this ever since that night with Buffy a few days ago.

Faith knew her body. Every other goddamn thing gave her bad gas, and she'd get the shits like once a week. She wasn't a doctor, and she probably couldn't afford one. So she lived with it. She ate what she wanted, shit outside when she couldn't get to a toilet, wore undies she could stain, and reminded herself that she was still sexy, because she fucking was.

And along comes this tiny blonde pervert who comes like a freight train and doesn't like wearing a bra, and oh, by the way, she's also a vampire slayer. Faith didn't trust good luck.

She looked down at the underwear between her legs.  The smear of brown in the seat had a little texture to it.  There was no saving these.  She was shitting pure liquid now, with no sign of letting up.  Normally she got a little downtime between explosions, but it looked like she was in for a marathon blowout tonight.  Honestly, she was convinced that shit just formed inside her, no food needed.

She groaned.  This wasn't your average, everyday bout of diarrhea.  And Faith knew diarrhea.  Something was wrong.  Something was making her sick.

******

She finally got to sleep around 3 AM.  The shits had, thankfully, subsided.

When she woke up, late in the afternoon, she felt like she'd swallowed a balloon full of knives.  Great.  She figured gas pains were better than violent diarrhea, though.  She felt a fart build up.   She wasn't sure whether to trust it, but she decided to risk the sheets.  It was dry.  And it stank.  This wasn't a bad-food fart, this was a my-stomach-just-hates-me fart.  She shrugged on some clothes and tried to think of what breakfast wouldn't make her gas worse.

There was a knock on the door.  She looked through the peephole.  Buffy.  She opened the door.

"Well, well.  What brings you here on a school day?"

"Mom thinks I've got the runs.  Thanks, by the way.  Of course, I can't actually play proper hooky, because Giles says there's some bad mojo going down.  He wants both of us."

"Well, shit.  Better go fight the good fight, huh?"

******

Buffy and Faith were the only ones in the library.  Faith eased out an SBD, with extra deadly, and winked at Buffy.  Buffy looked puzzled until the smell hit her.

"You'll notice that you are the only ones present," said Giles.  No shit, Sherlock.  "This is because we are dealing with a rather...sensitive matter.  It seems a succubus has come to Sunnydale."

"Sounds dirty," said Faith.

"Well, er, yes, actually.  A succubus is a personification of the destructive capacity of sexual relations and sexual desire."  He was cleaning his glasses extra hard as he said this.

"So what's it want?" asked Buffy.

"Well, it doesn't want.  It is.  There's a lot of nonsense surrounding the whole notion of succubi and incubi, to be frank.  But they're trickier than vampires or most demons, and generally incorporeal.  The texts refer to dreams, and feeding, however.  I don't know entirely how a person would locate such a being."

"You don't know something?"  B looked pretty smug about this.

"Yes, well...I'm, er...most of my books on...this variety of demon, er..."  He inhaled.  "The council didn't want me bringing them into a public high school.  They're lying unread in the council's main library."

"Which is in England."  Faith shook her head.

"Precisely."

Faith had let off two more silent farts in the few minutes it took to have this conversation.  Buffy was starting to fidget.

"You do have E-mail, right?  Maybe Jenny can look stuff up for us online?"

"I'll give it a try, I suppose.  She's fairly busy in Arizona.  I shudder to think what sort of sites I'd run into if I tried to search for this sort of demon on that blasted machine."

"So we done here?" asked Faith.  She farted again, making sure it made noise.  And what a noise it made.  "Oof.  'Scuse me."  She winked in Buffy's direction.

"Yes, yes, I suppose we are.  I'm not really sure what to tell you other than to stay on the lookout."

"Cool.  C'mon, B.  Let's be on the lookout."

******

"Jeez, Faith, what did you eat?" was the first thing out of Buffy's mouth as they walked back to the Summers house.

"Fucked if I know.  Bloated as hell, though."

"Mom's off at some art thing in Berkeley as of--" Buffy checked her watch "--an hour ago.  Wanna hang?"

"Sure.  Hungry, though."  Faith was sort of dreading putting food into her body right now, but she hadn't eaten all day.

They grabbed Mexican.  Buffy was dipping chips straight into refried beans, which Faith was pretty sure no one ever did south of the actual border.

"I know it's a cliche, but beans really do make me fart like nothing else," she said.

"Really?"  Faith smiled.  "They make me fart like everything else."

"Huh?"

"I mean everything makes me fart."  She took a bite of her first burrito.  Jesus, California really didn't fuck around with spicy food, did it?  Her asshole was gonna be in capsaicin hell later that night.

"That's kind of sinking in."

"You don't know the half of it, sister.  There is serious discomfort going on here.  I'm garden-variety gassy most days, yeah, but I would actually call myself sick today."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"No you're fuckin' not.  You're wetter than wet."  She lifted a cheek and cut a fart long enough that it kind of scared her.  She felt a little better, but not much.

"Faith, just because I have a fetish doesn't mean I don't care about you."

"Do you?"

"What?"

"Care about me?  I mean really."  She farted again, actually shitting herself a little. And then she felt the cramp.  "Oh Jesus, hold that thought."  She dashed off to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time.  Chunky, burning diarrhea spewed out of her.  She lifted her feet onto the seat and clutched her knees to her chest.  Her stomach was cramping like hell, and her asshole felt like it had sandpaper coming out of it.

Buffy knocked on the door.  "You ok?"

"No.  Hell no. I've been having some, fuckin', some episode over the past few days."

"Can I come in?"

"What, you want a show?"

"I...yeah, I do, but I want to, like, hold your hand or something."

"I don't need that."  She let out a small whimper as another gusher forced its way through her poor hole.

"You sure?"

"I--" She breathed an 'oh god' as a stabbing pain went through her abdomen.  "I want some privacy, B.  I don't feel sexy, and I don't need the pity."

"Okay.  You know where my bedroom is."

Twenty agonizing minutes later, Faith made her way there, curled up against Buffy, and drifted to sleep.

Chapter Text

Buffy dreamed. She was in the school bathroom, only there were no stall dividers.  Everyone seemed to be in the middle of a very involved bowel movement.

"Faith should be here," said Buffy.  "She's going to miss the school picture."

The photographer was there, in the bathroom.  There was a single toilet set across from him.  She watched Willow walk up, pull down her pants, and unload a gusher of diarrhea.  The photographer snapped her.

Other girls did the same, all shitting violently.  Buffy could smell it.  She was dimly aware that she didn't smell things in dreams.

Buffy's mother came in.  "Faith's too sick," she said.  Buffy turned away and then she was gone.

It was Buffy's turn.  She didn't have to go, and she found herself sliding her hands down her pants and masturbating.

Everyone began to laugh.

The photographer spoke with Faith's voice.  "PERVERT!" she shouted.  "GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT"

Buffy woke up.

******
Faith dreamed. She felt sick in the dream. It was like one of her worst digestive episodes. She was in Boston Common, after dark. Buffy was naked in the big fountain. Faith was trying to walk to her. A cramp tore through her and she felt liquid shit fill her pants. The fountain seemed so far away. The stink was impossibly strong, and impossibly real. She walked and walked, and each step grew more difficult. She was shitting the whole time, without any let-up.

She looked down and she was naked.  The slop falling from her was making the pathway slick.  She tried to keep her balance, but she fell backward.  Buffy was masturbating in the fountain.  Faith lay fetal in her own shit, spewing more onto the ground around her.  Buffy walked toward her.  The ground somehow became inclined, and Faith slid away on her own diarrhea. She couldn't see Buffy anymore.

She was in the hotel now.  Piles of shit were all over the floor.  Buffy was on the bed, fucking herself with a huge dildo.  Faith tried to get her attention.

"Just poop more," said Buffy.  "I've got this."

Shit poured painfully out of Faith.  Buffy watched intently.

Faith woke up.

Chapter Text

Faith awoke genuinely surprised that she hadn't shit herself overnight. Buffy was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her feet.  Faith was painfully bloated again this morning, and she wasn't sure if it was just the Mexican food.

"Hey." she said.

"Morning," said Buffy, in sort of a neutral tone.  "Feeling better?"

Faith made a noncommittal noise, as her stomach gave an angry groan.

"You're, uh, really not doing well, are you?"

"I don't take normal shits, Buffy.  But I have seriously been shitting wrong lately.  I'm'a go home, OK?"

"Yeah, I gotta get dressed for school."

Faith left by the window.

The houses got shittier as she walked.  That dream was sticking with her.  Buffy probably masturbated reading testimonials on bowel disorder discussion boards, so who was she to be all, 'oh, Faith, sorry your colon is mutinying on you'?  Girly little Buffy with her stuffed pig--that was a real good choice for her--secretly getting all wet when the chick in the next stall over was unloading a big nasty one.  Faith had tried to make it seem like no big deal--'oh, shitting's great, I love it, I do it all the time'--to get with this other slayer.  But the fact of the matter was the whole thing was just a little off.  Like, what would Buffy see in her if she just crapped out nice fours on the Bristol Stool Scale, didn't fart like death itself, if she was, you know, healthy?

The worst goddamn thing was that she still wanted Buffy.  So bad.

******

Buffy's stomach wasn't doing too well after the bean-a-thon.  She wasn't going to make it all day without using a school toilet.  She ducked into the girls' room and sat.  She cut a five or ten second fart that echoed obscenely in the bowl, then unloaded probably three pounds of soft shit.  It was just one continuous snake of shit, crackling and burbling out of her.  She flushed, not wanting to leave a giant clogged disaster for the next girl.  And the toilet had already backed up.  She sat up quickly, clenching her asshole as hard as she could to stop the flow of mush.  She succeeded, somehow.  She headed to the far stall quickly, as a brown soup pooled around the filled toilet.

She nearly didn't make it.  If she wasn't a slayer, her anus would have certainly given way.  Her shit had gone from paste to syrup, and the crackle of trapped gas had turned into sloppy farts.  Her asshole and abdomen weren't so much in pain as they were tired.  This wasn't very fun.

Faith probably did this a lot, she thought, pity meshing uneasily with arousal.  God, had Faith just been humoring her?  It was a pretty gross fetish, after all.  Buffy didn't ask to get all excited every time she thought about someone attractive going to the bathroom.  Shitting, she corrected herself.  Nothing euphemistic.  Shitting.

Man, that dream was messing with her head.  She wiped, flushed, and stood.  She was tired, and her face in the mirror looked it.  She hadn't realized just how red her eyes were.  She'd slept plenty.  And she remembered none of it except for the dream.  It was uncanny, how well it reflected her own worries about her relationship, or whatever it was, with Faith.

"Oh," she said to herself softly.

Giles didn't have much to say about this succubus thing, but sex-dreams-turned-nightmares, followed by exhaustion were just suspicious enough.

The problem, of course, would be telling him about the dream.  She would seriously have to vague this up.

Chapter Text

 

She took Giles aside.  "I had, um, a dream."

Giles smiled.  "I do hear those are something that happen when you sleep."

"No," she said.  She lowered her voice.  "I mean, I think the succubus was in my head."

"Oh."  Giles cleaned his glasses.  "That's good.  I mean, er, it was probably an odd experience, but that means some of its energy has been left behind in you.  There are spells I've been researching. We can trace it."

"Can they not involve you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It's just, um, you're my Watcher, and you're old, and there's the whole S-E-X-D-R-E-A-M thing going on..."

Giles blushed a little.  "Oh, dear, of course.  Would you prefer if another woman talked to you?"

"I would prefer if I never had to talk about the dream ever in the history of ever."

"You never have to."

That was a relief. "So...spells?"

"Yes.  Er, I'm going to rather excuse myself from this.  Jenny's back in town. She can walk you through the spell."

Buffy didn't know Ms. Calendar too well, even after just over two years.  But she wasn't Giles.  Giles never ever had to know about the poop thing.  Ever.

"Does...she have to know everything?"

"No.  That the succubus has left traces is all she needs to know."

Phew.

*******

The spell needed three people.  Xander was an absolute no, and Oz was...also an absolute no.  Really, Willow was most of a no too.  Ms. Calendar was most of a no.  And yet there they were, knowing Buffy had had a demonic sex dream about something she didn't want to talk about.

There was a candle, because of course there was.  Buffy lit it, then ran her hand over the flame.

They sat in a circle, hands joined.  Jenny said her part of the incantation, then Willow, then Buffy.  The candle's flame turned a bright red, then pink, then red, then burgundy, and so on.

"Now what?" asked Buffy.

"We wait.  And we don't break the circle.  Wait for the wax to pool, and then we can read it."

"How long?" asked Willow, "'Cause, uh, my stomach just got a little iffy."

It gurgled angrily, followed by Jenny's, followed by Buffy's own.  She was starting to feel, well, like she'd have to go soon.  And like it would be a bad one.  Six years of repressing her thing about poop, and now everything was about it.

"We, um, we may be channeling through the--well, it's the abstract concept of that in us which is unclean and to be gotten rid of.  Which makes sense--succubi can prey on shame associated with sex as much as on anything else."

"So, sex gross, therefore bad stomach?" asked Willow nervously.

"Yeah," said Jenny.  "The glamorous world of witchcraft, everyone."

Willow sort of whimpered.  Buffy wasn't going to have a problem holding it.  The other two, well...

Jenny was sort of looking down at her stomach.  Willow was grimacing.  A loud fart burst out of one of them.

"Normally I'd suggest lighting a candle, but, well, we've got one"  Jenny said, smiling.  She leaned to the side and let out an airy trumpet.  "Try to be able to take me seriously tomorrow in class, okay?"

Buffy half-laughed.  Willow just sat there, brow furrowed.  "Is this going to take much longer?" she asked.

Her stomach groaned.

"The candle melts quickly, but not that quickly.  At least ten minutes."  Jenny farted again.  Either it was her diet of coffee and snack food, or it was the spell, but these were bad.  Buffy was uncomfortably aroused.  "You can pass some gas too, you know, both of you.  You'll be more comfortable."

Buffy took her up on the offer, passing a long fart that ended wet.  Now she'd ruined her panties in two ways.

"I...don't think that would be wise," said Willow.

They sat in silence, barring the occasional rank fart from Buffy or Ms. Calendar.  Willow had let nothing slip.  The wax had finally filled the bowl.

"Okay," said Ms. Calendar, "We're going to take a bathroom break, and then I'm going to read the wax."

Willow stood up to leave, and then it happened.  She clutched the back of her skirt, and a loud, wet sounding fart erupted, following by a soft, extended squelching.  Brown liquid ran down her white tights.  She was bright red.

"Just let it out," said Ms. Calendar, "It's okay."

Buffy's pity for her friend mixed uncomfortably with arousal.  And she really needed a bathroom.  Jenny seemed to as well.

*******

They ducked into one of the girls' rooms, and quickly sat.  Sputtering, diarrhetic farts exploded out of both.

Jenny exhaled loudly.  It was weird, seeing one of the teachers poop at all.  Especially this violently.

"I want you to know you're okay,' said Jenny.

"What?"

"Look--unh--the fact that the divination attacked our bowels?  I know what that means, Buffy."

"Right, sexual shame."

"That was for Willow's benefit."

"Oh." said Buffy softly.  Her face got hot. "So, you know that I'm a..."

"I know you have a niche, taboo turn-on.  That doesn't make you an anything, Buffy."

"I..."  Buffy actually found herself with a lump in her throat.  "Faith has these stomach problems.  And they really...I like them.  I'm a bad person, Jenny."

"Faith?"

"Yeah."

"Have you..."

"We've...done stuff."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

Jenny exhaled, although that may have been due to the fact that she was still noisily spewing waste.  "That's why the succubus latched on.  I think.  I don't exactly know how succubi work.  But, um, the newer you are to sex, the more they like you."

"Why?"

"You're less sure of yourself.  There's all that fear there."

"So what do I have to do?"

"You have to talk to Faith.  I'll read the wax, but I bet that'll be the answer.  Look.  You're not a bad person."

"I...part of me was hoping one of you would have an accident.  When Willow did, I mean, I felt bad that she was embarrassed, but it was--" Buffy sighed.  She was glad she was saying this to a stall door rather than to Ms. Calendar's face.  "it was kind of something I'd, um, fantasized about."

"Fantasies are fantasies, Buffy.  I've...never mind, but they're not real."

Buffy sighed.  She heard the sound of toilet paper being torn.

"Look.  You didn't ask for this.  For this to be a turn-on with you."

She kept not saying fetish.  Was she trying to be nice?  "No, I really didn't."

"I can't make you accept it.  But sex is, and I'm saying this as a grown-up, infinitely weird.  As long as you and your partner are all right with everything, there's nothing to be ashamed of, okay?"

Buffy wasn't sure she believed it, but she said okay anyway.  She hoped Faith would be willing to talk.

 

Chapter Text

Faith wasn't like this.  She wasn't poor-me-my-tummy-hurts.  She lived with her issues.  She didn't sit around in her motel room moping.

She felt a cramp, and dashed to the toilet.

It was mostly just gas.  She should go out.  She should fucking go out, shit in the street in broad daylight if she had too, flash her fake at the Bronze and get drunk at three in the afternoon.  Find some horny UC Sunnydale undergrad and fuck their brains out.  Anything.

Instead, all she could think about was Buffy.  This fucking ex-cheerleader who listened to bleep-bloop dance music and had a stuffed pig.  A girl like that is one Faith would ditch as soon as she slid her fingers out of her.  Except they shared this fucking mission.

She wanted to see Buffy, but without all the shit.  Literally.  She wanted to see what would happen if she didn't get B all hot and bothered with her fucked-up digestive system.  Honestly, it'd probably be a big nothing.  People like Buffy didn't care about people like Faith.

She wiped, and sure enough those were more than just farts.

Fuck it.  Even if she spent all afternoon just blowing up a public bathroom, she was going out.  She was gonna get real feminine, red lipstick and cleavage, even bust out the one short skirt she owned, and she was gonna hit on boys that were nothing like Buffy.

******

She had like no money, so it was whatever Southern California's equivalent of 'Gansett was as far as drinks went. The Bronze was dead. There was this older guy telling her to smile. She crop-dusted the motherfucker. It was rank, too. She swore cheap beer gave her a harder time than those seven-buck microbrews.

This was bullshit. Dead-ass suburban town. In Boston there'd always be Harvard bros to fight or art-school kids to get all sweaty with. Instead she was just getting fuzzier-headed and more unhappy.

She threw a few bucks on the bar, chugged her last beer, and went on her way. Or would have. She passed what she thought would be a nice dry fart, and ended up spray-painting her panties. She bet mister why-don't-you-smile thought she was real hot now.

She hit the ladies' room and sure enough here was the diarrhea she'd been expecting.  Slimy and chunky, punctuated by sloppy farts.  Her stomach hadn't been this bad in a while. It was like this when she first got called.  Actually, she'd been pretty regular up till then.  Gassier than normal, and occasionally there'd be a bad emergency, but basically okay.  But the Slayer thing just killed her stomach.  And then, leaving Boston for here, after all the shit went down?  She was basically stopping for a blowout every half-hour or so.

God, these cramps were killer.  This had all started with fucking Buffy.  She'd been doing OK until that night.  And then this.  Buffy was making her sick.  That was what it was.  How fucking stupid was that?  She didn't even like her.

OK, that was a lie.

After what seemed like forever, she stood up, looked down at the bowl, which was full to the brim with brown, flushed, wiped like seventeen times, and flushed again.

She tossed her stained panties in the trash.

And who was at the bar but Buffy?

She sidled up to her.  "Missed a real, show, B.  I am sick as fuck right now."

"Yeah, um, you look pale."

"Still hot, though." This wasn't a question.

"Look, did you have any weird dreams the other night?"

"Yeah, my mom was smoking this big fat cigar, so I think I want you to suck my dick."

"Seriously.  Remember the--" Buffy glanced at the bartender "--um, sleeping pills?"

Faith arched an eyebrow.

Buffy led Faith away to the civilians.  "The succubus comes to us in dreams, Faith.  Jenny figured out that it visited me.  It feeds on bad feelings about sex."

"Well, I got a shit-ton of bad feelings right now.  Literally.  Bet they're sexy to you." Faith herself didn't know if this was a come-on or an accusation.

"Faith, this is important.  Did you have bad dreams?"

"Yeah."  Fine.  Maybe once they dealt with the succubus her stomach would go back to, well, not normal, but less horrible.

"Well, we should all talk."

"Who's we all?"

"I...I don't know.  People we can trust.  Jenny.  Giles.  Willow?"

"Those are people you trust, B.  I trust you.  Maybe."

"Then that's a start.  Come on."

"B, I'm getting my illegal drink on."

"Fine.  Meet me at the library at 7 PM, okay?"

"Okay."

Buffy sighed.  "Look, I know we have to talk.  We'll talk."

Talk?  Christ on a fucking crutch, this was not what Faith signed up for.  She wanted to object.  What she said was "sure."

Chapter Text

Faith wasn't due for a couple hours, but Buffy wanted to talk to someone. Willow was actually getting some studying done.  Buffy didn't really want to talk about the aftereffects of the spell, if only because this was Willow.  She sat.

"So was the spell, um, successful?" asked Willow. "I kinda went home to change."

"Yeah.  Jenny and Giles and Faith and I are going to be meeting here later."

"Faith?  We need two slayers for this thing?  Isn't it all incorporeal?"

"Well, she's kind of...connected."

"I bet!  She's all about that succubus stuff, what with the leather pants and the naked sleeping and the cleavage!"

Buffy sighed. "She's not so bad."

Willow's voice was getting a little heated.  "Sure she is.  She's all irresponsible and sleazy.  And--" Willow lowered her voice to a whisper "--I'm pretty sure she's got, like, really bad gas or something because she's always pacing and holding her tummy."

"Willow, I'm pretty sure she's been through some heavy stuff."

"Fine.  But for the sake of the less attractive and quieter, at least let me think she's secretly a big ol' fart monster."

Buffy wasn't exactly going to confirm this, let alone let on that this was part of the appeal.

"Sorry," said Willow.  "Kinda focused on that stuff after the spell."

"If it's any consolation, I kind of stained my undies because of it."  And also, Buffy thought, pooped in them a little.

"Yours lived to tell the tale, so you still win.  Ugh."

"Look, can we--"

"--talk about something else?  Yeah."

"So, Faith and you are both connected to the succubus.  Is that a slayer thing?"

Buffy was not expecting this to be the something else.  Well then. "No, we just both had dreams."

"Oh."  Willow sort of smiled "So you never did tell me about the dream.  You know, now that we're alone."

"It was actually kind of gross," said Buffy.  This was not a lie.

"I mean, that's penises for you, to be honest," said Willow, "I mean, not that I'm not enjoying dating a penis-haver.  I mean, not enjoying enjoying, I mean not all the way enjoying, but, um..."

 Buffy smiled.  "Yeah.  Veiny floppy penises.  That's what the dream was."  Phew.  Thanks, Willow.

Willow suddenly clutched her stomach.  "I gotta go.  Spell's still having some aftershocks."

She was gone for about half an hour.  She came back in gym shorts.  Buffy figured there'd been another accident and felt heat pool in her groin.

"Well, that's it, I'm officially incontinent." said Willow.

"I mean, it's just twice" said Buffy, trying hard not to conjure up a mental image.

Willow gave a nervous smile.  "Oh," said Buffy.

"I honestly don't know how I'm going this much.  It's like I'm pooping other people's poop.  Is that even possible?"

Buffy sort of squirmed in her seat.  She definitely didn't want to date Willow, but the idea of her with nonstop runs that she couldn't control?  That was hot.  When she was first sort of figuring out that her poop thing was sexual, she imagined all kinds of things. Like one of the other cheerleaders getting the runs during a routine and going all over herself, or her hot history teacher having to poop in the class trashcan in order to save her pants.

Now it seemed like all those fantasies were coming true. And it turned out Buffy didn't want that, after all.

Chapter Text

Willow was still there when Jenny and Giles showed up.  She waved and smiled.

"You're here early," said Buffy.

"Well, one does tend to be found in one's place of employment," said Giles.

"We were bored," said Jenny.

"So--so hang out with your grown-up friends! Willow and I were having young person conversations.  Conversations that we deliberately hide from the adults in our lives."

Willow shrugged.  "Mostly we were talking about how the spell's still making me sick."

Jenny's eyes lit up, "Willow, that's great!"

Everyone in the room stared at her.

"If the magicks from the spell are still in your system after a whole day, you have serious potential as a witch."

"Yeah, a powerful witch who wears diapers," muttered Willow.

Giles cleaned his glasses aggressively.  Buffy sort of wished she had glasses of her own to clean right now.

"So," he said, conspicuously changing the topic, "the succubus is primarily feeding on shame and fear.  And it is, so to speak, fat and happy right now.  Which means soon it won't need Buffy and her partner for sustenance anymore."  Either Jenny hadn't told him it was Faith, or he was preserving her secret for Willow's benefit.  Either way, Buffy was relieved.

He continued. "If Jenny's research is correct, when a succubus has sufficiently fed off of its initial victim, it, well, it sort of digests whatever negative emotions it has consumed and, er, expels a sort of spiritual waste into the collective psyche of the area it's chosen to inhabit.  The sexually active persons within the area feel disgust, even hatred, toward themselves and their partners."

"It poops out bad vibes?" said Willow, sort of amused.  "Kind of a lame demon."

"Willow, this is serious," said Jenny.  "People have killed each other when a well-fed succubus does its thing."

They were silent for a moment as this sank in.

"You do realize Faith's going to need the whole talk as well, right, guys?" asked Buffy.

A slow look of realization came across Willow's face.  "You...the mystery girl was Faith!  Buffy, I thought you had better taste than that."

"Willow!" Jenny chided.

"I'm...I shouldn't have said that.  I just think she's bad news.  Is this how Xander felt about Angel?  Because I'm not judging, but I am deeply concerned."

Buffy felt like she'd been slapped.  She knew she'd been making a mistake.  She was so stupid.

"I should go," said Willow.

"Yeah," said Buffy, dully.

When Willow had gone, Buffy sort of sank in her seat.  "She's right.  Faith's...she's a dropout who drinks and screws around and steals things."

"So was I," said Giles, "and on top of that, I dabbled in truly idiotic black arts.  And besides, I think it's the most natural thing in the world that the two of you would become physically intimate.  You share a connection to primal energies that no one else living does.  That's a very powerful thing."

"No.  Giles, you don't understand.  We're not like each other.  I don't even know if I want to be her friend.  I only slept with her because..."  she trailed off.  "God, I'm disgusting."

Jenny patted Buffy's shoulder.  "No, you're not.  It's just a kink, Buffy."  She turned to Giles. "The specifics are gonna stay between us girls, okay, Rupert?"

"I wouldn't dream of prying," said Giles  "And shared fantasies are a perfectly legitimate reason to initiate a sexual encounter.  If anything, you're fortunate to find someone who enjoys what you enjoy."

"But I don't think she enjoys it!" shouted Buffy.

"You think you're taking advantage." said Giles.

"Of course I do!  It's disgusting!  I can't...why would she do that for me?"

"I can't tell you that, Buffy.  You'll have to talk with her."

Speak of the devil.  Faith had changed into the most flagrant of hello-I-sleep-with-girls uniforms: torn jeans, Doc Martens, a white tank top and a big plaid lumberjack shirt.  It was incredibly hot.

"What'd I miss?"

They filled her in.

"So, either we stop this thing or it starts shitting out death thoughts like me after wing night.  Got it.  How do we do that?"

She just had to mention herself pooping, didn't she.

"We poison it," said Jenny.

"What?" said Buffy.

"It's going to try to feed on you two again, probably just the once more, so we only have one shot at this."

"Okay, but what do we do?" asked Faith.

"Well," said Giles, "the succubus consumes negative emotions associated with a sex act performed by its chosen prey.  Positive emotions about that same sex act harm it.  It might not be destroyed, but it should be weakened enough such that we can bind or banish it.

"We have to have sex again," said Buffy.

"Cool," said Faith.

"It's imperative that you not feel conflicted or ashamed, though," said Giles, "Otherwise you're giving the succubus exactly what it wants."

"So, don't worry, be happy?" asked Buffy.

"Pretty much," said Jenny, "And you have to have the kind of sex that drew it to you in the first place, no matter what that is."

"Shit," said Faith.  "B, I don't know if I can do this."

"Me neither," said Buffy

"Well," said Giles, "I believe you two will need to, well, talk."

That didn't seem like it would be easy.

Chapter Text

So there they were.  Faith's gut was a roiling mess of nervous gas, and she was sure Buffy was getting all hot and bothered smelling what was leaking out of her.

"So." said Faith.

"Um..." said Buffy.

"We gotta fuck again."

"We do."

"Do you even like me?" asked Faith.   "Or do you just like this?" She gestured at her abdomen. "'Cause, um, I'm not the only hot chick with shits this bad."

"I don't, um..." Buffy trailed off.

"Spit it out.  You don't, do you?"

Buffy's face was blank.

"I mean, why would you?  I'm a broke slut from the shitty part of Boston, right?  I'm just this trashy chick who lives to fight, drink, and fuck, right?"

"Faith, I don't--"

 

"No, you don't."

"I--I don't know if I like you, okay!  We had sex, and we talked a lot about poop, and that's it.  I might like you.  I might like you a whole lot."

"No you won't."

"You don't know that."

"Can we just bang while I crap my pants or whatever, and then call it good?  I don't do this therapy thing, especially not with someone I've been knuckle-deep in."

"I don't...I won't feel good about it, Faith."

Of course she wouldn't.  She shouldn't.  It's not like Faith had anything going for her besides a nice rack and the occasional case of projectile diarrhea.  She stood to leave.

Buffy stood up. "Faith, no.  I mean...can we hang, first?  Like, no sex, no nothing, just social time?"

"What the fuck would we even do together?"

"How about a movie?  I'll bring Willow, maybe.  It can be a girls' night!"

"Fuck it," said Faith.  She was sure this was a garbage idea, but hey, the fate of the town rested on lovey-dovey fucking, so whatever it took, right?

******

They knocked on Willow's door.  Willow's mom answered.  Willow would be with them in a few minutes, she said.  Have a seat, she said.  God, all these suburban houses.  Not one empty liquor bottle or ripped-up cushion in sight.  How would Faith ever fit in with these people?

They sat for ten awkward minutes.  A toilet flushed, and Willow came downstairs in a big shirt and gym shorts.  "Hey, Buffy.  Hey...Faith?"

"'Sup, Red.  Digging the WNBA look."

"Thanks?  What's up?  Is there a baddie on the loose?  Do you need me to work some mojo with Ms. Calendar again? "

"No baddie," said Buffy, "Just Faith.  We were gonna watch a movie."

"I'm...not feeling great.  Still." said Willow.

"Was this about the dump I'm guessing you just took?" asked Faith.

"Faith!"  Willow was bright red.

"It's cool, my stomach's fucked too.  I don't know what the medical term is for chronic explosive diarrhea, but, uh..."  She made a farting noise with her mouth.

Willow sort of stammered.  Buffy took her aside.

"You gonna be long?" asked Faith.  "'Cause I'm gonna use your bathroom.  Apologies in advance."

Christ, even the bathrooms in the suburbs were nice.  Art on the walls, fuzzy covers on the toilet seat.  Red had left a real stink in here, though.  Poor kid.

Faith's dump was sloppy, gassy, and huge, but it didn't hurt.  She'd take that.  She flushed, and walked back downstairs.

"So we doing this?" she asked.

"If, um, if your place is okay." said Buffy.

"Well, I got a VCR and a working bathroom, so I think we're good.  Lemme guess, parents?  Glad I don't have to deal with those anymore.  More trouble than they're worth."

Willow clutched her stomach.  "Be with you in a second.  Or, like, a year."  She groaned and dashed upstairs.  And Faith thought she was bad.

Chapter Text

Faith sort of can't believe they're doing this at her place, but whatever.  Willow had picked some old 30s comedy to watch, but again, whatever.

"Hope you're down with us all on one tiny-ass bed with shitty springs," she said.

"I have a boyfriend," said Willow.

"Chill, Red.  I can keep my pants on for one night.  Besides, everyone knows it's not cheating if you just want a break from dick."

Red was pretty fucking red just then.

"We should eat something," said Buffy.

"Something mellow," added Willow.

"Nah, babe," said Faith, "First rule of Diarrhea Club is that if you don't have to worry about whether what you eat's gonna give you the shits if you've already got the shits."

"I don't think it works that way, but okay."

"You gonna have to go before we get there, by the way?" asked Faith

"No!"

"Jesus, don't be embarrassed.  This is me and B.  She murders plumbing and I once shat myself during a makeout session.  We're in this together or some garbage like that."

"You...what?"  Willow looked sorta disgusted.

"I was kinda looking to ditch him for this hot cheerleader, so I figured if I farted I could kill the mood.  I tried to force one and shit a little.  It happens."

"You weren't embarrassed?"

"Sure I was.  He told all his buddies about it and I was shart-girl that whole year.  Which is why I'd never bring stomach stuff up to be cunty to you."

Willow looked sort of contemplative.

"Thanks," she said, sort of uncertain of herself.

"See," said Buffy, "She's not so bad."

Faith smiled.  "You thought I was bad!?"

"Umm..."

"Nah, it's cool.  You're all fuzzy sweaters and school and stuff.  I get it."  It wasn't entirely cool.  The nice girls always judge the bad girls worse than the popular girls do.  And they pretended they didn't, because they sympathized.  God save us all from sympathy, thought Faith.

Still, girl was having the shits.  Sisterhood of the porcelain bowl, or whatever.

******

When they got there, Faith took Willow aside.  "Lemme show you my secret stash."

"Faith, I don't want any drugs or anything."  Christ, this chick really had Faith all boxed up into a neat little category.

"It's not anything like that, babe.  Come on."

Faith took Willow into the bathroom, and locked the door.  She pulled out a nondescript cardboard box and opened it up.  Inside were what were euphemistically termed 'protective underpants.'

"Look, don't let it get out to B, but I wear these at home sometimes.  They won't hold a full-scale dump, especially if it's real runny, but they're good for the garden-variety shart."

Willow stammered.

"Hey, you can say no, but if you want a couple pairs until whatever you've got blows over, I can spare 'em."

"I'll take them," she said quietly.  "Can, um, can you turn around while I put them on?"

"Hey, babe, as much as I'd like to see whether the carpet matches the drapes, I'm not a peeping Tom."

Faith dutifully stared at the discolored wall while Willow changed.

"Are they, um, noticeable?" asked Willow.

They weren't.  Those baggy gym shorts that did things to Faith's gay half covered them up perfectly.  'You're good," said Faith.

"Cool.  Um, thanks."

"Hell yes.  Take a few for the road, babe."

"Can you, um, stop calling me babe?"

"I mean, you're a babe, but whatever, dude."

A powerful smell wafted Faith's way.  It was like rotting onions in a blender with some kind of demon eggs.

Faith laughed.  "Ho-ly shit, Red."

Willow smiled. "Yeah, they've been pretty bad."

"Did you shit?"

"Not exactly."

Faith laughed again.  "We gotta have a contest sometime."

"Yeah, get Buffy involved after she's had the cafeteria chili!"

Red just had to bring up Buffy, didn't she.  That's what this whole thing was about, after all.  Get Fetish Girl off so that the town didn't tear itself to shreds.  And be happy about it or it won't work.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Faith and Willow exited the bathroom.  

"She's all yours, B," said Faith.  "I'm gonna go have a cigarette."

"You smoke?" asked Willow.

"Judgey, aren't we?  I'll die young, I know."  She stepped out.

Buffy sighed.

"Okay, what's up?" asked Willow.

"I just..." Buffy looked down. "Would you mind if we cuddled?"  Upon seeing the look on Willow's face, she clarified. "Me and Faith, I mean.  If she...she's not a cuddler, is she?"

"You tell me."

Buffy rubbed her forehead.  She hadn't been intimate with Faith since they'd had their succubus dreams, and she kind of wanted to warm back up to it.  Get used to touching before they had to do the deed and save the town.   Faith would probably want to just get it over with.  This made Buffy sadder than she expected.

"I doubt it," she said.

"Me too," said Willow, "How, um, how was it the first time?"

"Intense," said Buffy, "It sort of happened before I could process it.  It was like I started to realize she was my type, and then she invited me to shower with her, and then all of a sudden, hands.  In places."

"She's your type?"

"I mean, um, kinda.  She pushes buttons."

"I guess.  She talks about diarrhea, though.  Kind of a turn-off."

Buffy's face grew hot.

"Sorry." said Willow.

"No, um..." Buffy exhaled hard.  "Can you keep a secret?"

"Do I not put the F in BFF?  The, um, second F.  And the first, I guess."

Buffy smiled weakly "Okay.  So, um, it's kind of the opposite of a turn-off."

"Huh?"

"I, um, I don't know why, but people going to the bathroom, um, pooping, specifically..."  Buffy didn't want to continue.

"It turns you on?"  Willow looked incredulous.

Buffy nodded.

"That's different."

"It's so gross.  I kind of hate it."

Willow put a hand on Buffy's shoulder.  She smiled.  "It's kind of funny.  I mean, you know, poop."

"Thanks?"

"I guess she's kind of great for you, then?"

Buffy sighed.  "I feel guilty.  It's her health, you know?  Like, she probably gets really bad cramps and has embarrassing accidents and, you know, just general un-fun-ness.  And I get off on it.  What's wrong with me?"

"She seems pretty OK with it."  Willow didn't sound very certain.

"I just don't want to be, like, using her, you know?"

"Buffy, off topic, but, um, I really have to fart, and think I might accidentally be turning you on, and I'm sorry."

This was exactly the sort of reaction Buffy didn't want.  Then Willow farted.  It sounded incredibly wet, and stank bitterly.

"That was pretty sexy, right?" she said.

Buffy smiled.  "You're a good friend, Will."

Faith came back in, smelling of tobacco.  "Alright.  Almost ready for the movie.  You know what they say, right?  Give a mouse some nicotine and she's gonna have to take a dump."

"I have never heard that before," said Willow.

She slammed the bathroom door.  An echoing fart was clearly audible through the thin walls.  Then a grunt, and a splash, and a 'fuck yes!'  Two more farts sounded followed by another splash.  Then another.  Then a flush.  Then 'Motherfucker!'

Willow shot Buffy a meaningful look.  Guilty as charged.

Faith emerged. "So, good news is your girl just passed something solid for the first time in days, so go me.  Bad news is it was too much for this pansy-ass toilet.  So, um, if you gotta go, I think the bathroom trash can has a plastic bag.  And you can totally piss in my shower.  I do it all the time."  She sniffed. "Sorry 'bout the smell."

"Yeah," said Buffy, "That was a pretty ripe one."

"Bitch, you love it."

Had Faith heard her talking about her kinks to Willow?  Or was she just being Faith?  Buffy felt her ears go warm.

"So, let's start this fuckin' movie, huh?"

Willow put the tape in.

Fifteen minutes in, Buffy wasn't really enjoying it.  It wasn't stupid, but it was clever in a silly way that didn't do much for her.  She leaned over to Faith, who put an arm around her.  This was nice, Buffy thought.  This felt normal.  Two girls who liked each other cuddling and watching a movie.

If Faith liked her, that was.

Faith was actually kind of enjoying it.  It seemed like she'd choose edgier fare, but apparently this was her thing.

Faith ran a hand through Buffy's hair.  "You not laughing, B?"

"Sorry.  I guess this isn't for me."

"We can stop," said Willow.

"Sure," said Faith.

"No," said Buffy, "Faith's enjoying it.  That's good enough for me."  

The movie had gotten to another musical number:  Everyone says I love you/ but just what they say it for I never knew/ It's just inviting trouble/ for the poor sucker who/ says I love you.

Faith cracked up.

Buffy went red.  It was trouble, wasn't it?

Chapter Text

 It was the middle of the night.  Willow was back home with her nice little nuclear family.  Buffy had sort of rolled over so that her arm was across Faith.  Faith almost didn't want to wake her.  But she had to shit.  Naturally.  She tried to slide out gently from under the other Slayer's arm.  And apparently succeeded.  She slid down her undies and noisily unloaded into the trash can.  Her shit was still firmer than it had been, but she was heading back toward water-town.  And the gas was unreal.  You'd think her asshole was amplified.  The whole thing was over quick.  No pain, relatively little wiping.   This was okay.

When she went back to bed, Buffy was sitting up. rubbing her eyes.  Judging from those nipples trying to pierce her tank top, she'd probably heard the whole thing.

"Wanna make out?"  It seemed like the obvious question.

Buffy smiled.  "Well, since you asked so bluntly..."

She walked over to Faith and took her by the hand.  And kissed it.  And then she was kissing up Faith's arm and over the strap of her white tank and up her neck and onto her cheek and then lighty on the lips and wet and openmouthed.   She was running her fingers through Faith's hair, and god, she was so gentle.  Faith realized she was still as a statue.

Buffy pulled away.  "You OK?"

Faith nearly spit out the words 'five by five' like she did every time someone asked that.  "Not really," was what she said.

 "Wanna talk?"

Faith had made out with plenty of people.  But shit, this felt like kissing, which was different.  And she hadn't been kissed much.  Maybe she'd never been really kissed.

"No.  Fuck no."

"Want me to go?"

That would be easy.  That would make sense, given who Faith was and who Buffy was.

Faith sighed.  "I don't think so.  Can I, like, hold you?"  She mumbled those last two words.

Buffy walked over to the bed.  "I'd like that, I think."

Faith had been the big spoon before.  Given that people who aren't Buffy don't really like their crotches being farted on every few minutes, she was mostly the big spoon.  But again, she hadn't really held someone.

Buffy was so little that the top of her head came up to Faith's lips.  Faith kissed it.  She took Buffy's hand, hesitantly, and their fingers entwined.  Buffy pulled their clasped hands to her belly.  "This is nice," she said.

Maybe it was.

 

Chapter Text

Morning had come.   Buffy awoke to find Faith still asleep against her back.  She'd kind of expected her to leave.  She rolled over, so that she was facing Faith.

"Running away, B?" said Faith, sleepily.

"No!" said Buffy, a little too loudly.

"Jesus, chill," said Faith.  "Wanna see if my big turd flushes?  It's probably soaked up a bunch of water."

Buffy felt warmth at the juncture of her thighs.  She really, really did.

The two slayers walked to the bathroom.  The toilet bowl had a turd as thick as Buffy's wrist lodged in the drain, with another two big sausage links.

"Kinda phallic," said Faith.  "Is that the appeal, B?"

"I, um, I don't want that inside me.  I mean I guess I have it inside me, techinically, but, um, no.  No."

"Well," said Faith, "Moment of truth."

She flushed.  The water in the bowl rose dangerously high, but stopped.   The turd shifted, broke into pieces, and drained away, leaving brown skids on the bowl.

"You wet?" asked Faith.

Buffy blushed.

"That's a yes."

Buffy blushed harder.

Faith smiled.

"What do you wanna do?  You know, to poision the succubus?  Want me to drop a load on your tits?"

"That's...a little extreme.  I mean, it sounds incredbly hot, but I don't think I wanna do that in real life.  At least not yet."

"Awesome, because I don't wanna have to lick shitty nipples."

Buffy felt her hands go to her chest.

"You got awesome tits, B.  I could play with them for hours and not even touch the rest of you.  Get you all frustrated."

Buffy blushed.  "That...that actually sounds pretty nice."

"What do you wanna do to me?"

Buffy stammered.  She didn't know, honestly.  She hadn't thought about it past just the general idea of sex.  She figured Faith would be kinda gassy during the whole thing, which was a plus, but she didn't really know what she wanted to try out.  She definitely didn't actually want to touch poop, which she supposed was kind of a good sign.  Would she be going down on Faith, or fingering her, or both?

"Come on, B, I know you got a dirty little mind."

"I guess."

"You wanna tie me up?  Suck my toes?  Spank me?  Or are you like strictly about the shits?"

"I...I guess I don't entirely know what I'm into."

"Tell you what.  When we do the ritual, I'll just throw out ideas.  And, like, eat a bunch of fiber."

Buffy nodded.  "Can we do it tomorrow night?"  She wasn't sure how much longer she'd be in the right mindset for it.

"Fuck yes.  Before we change our minds."  Faith just had to put it out there, didn't she.

"Come hold me some more?" asked Buffy.

Faith did.

 

Chapter Text

Faith belched heavily.  That was the last of that fucking onion thing.  She took mental stock of what exactly she'd eaten to prep for the sex session.

A whole box of Fiber One bars over the course of the day, for bulk.  Greasy burgers, greasy fries, a double side of coleslaw for the cabbage.  A reuben, for more grease and more cabbage.  A good pound and a half of boneless buffalo wings.  Literally just a pint of refried beans.  And now two shareable onion appetizers from this godforsaken nightclub.

She was so bloated she'd had to change into her baggiest sweats, which would no doubt still get B hot, and she'd nearly gagged when she crapped after lunch.

She started her walk back home. B had better be happy to see her

*******

"You're taking the room next door!?" asked Buffy.

Jenny sighed.  "I know.  We promise we'll give you privacy, but we need to be close by to perform the ritual that's going to disperse the succubus's energy once you two weaken it."

"Giles is going to be with you, though.  He doesn't know!"

"And he won't."  Jenny said, not breaking eye contact.

"So, Faith and I do our part, and you, what, burn incense and chant?"

"Starting at 8 PM tonight, yeah."

Buffy sighed.

"You want to talk?"

"Maybe?"

"Okay."

They were silent for a bit.

"I like her, Jenny.  I actually like her."

"That's good."

"I think I might actually be ready."

"Good. Here, take these." Jenny handed her a pair of chokers that looked like they came from the mall.

"Accessories?"

"Protection.  I don't know how much you plan on doing, and please don't tell me, but these should keep you from getting any sort of infection."

"We don't have any S.T.--OH!"  Buffy's cheeks were aflame.

"Again, please don't tell me exactly what you plan to do with, um, your excretions.  But I figured you should be free to go, um, all out."  Now Jenny was blushing.

"I...I don't know if I want to."

"And that's OK."

"So.  I'm really gonna have crazy sex to save the town?"

"I guess you are.  Go get 'em."

Buffy smiled.  Hopefully Faith was feeling as ready as she was.

Chapter Text

The door wasn't locked.  Faith was flicking through channels, barefoot in sweats and a tank top.  Buffy thought she looked beautiful.

"Thought you'd never get here," she said.

"Had to do some negotiating with Mom."

"Right.  Parents." Faith half-smiled.  "Don't miss 'em"

Buffy walked over and sat at the foot of the bed.  "So," she said, walking her fingers up Faith's leg, "wanna be heroes?"

Faith's half-smile turned into a full one.  She sat up.  "Babe, my stomach is doing things you would not believe."  She brushed a strand of Buffy's hair away from her face.  "I feel like crap."  She took Buffy's hand and kissed it, then sucked the index finger.  "I am gonna fuckin' blow up that toilet so many times tonight."

Buffy blushed.  "Nice dirty talk."

"You wet?"

"Getting there."

"Tell me.  Tell me I'm turning you on."

She blushed harder.  "You definitely are."

Faith leaned to the side and passed a bubbling fart.  "Like that?"

"Yeah."  And then the smell hit.  Buffy coughed a little.  "Faith, what did you eat?"

Faith rattled off a list.

"Faith, that onion appetizer is meant for like four people.  Or, like, no people.  I'm pretty sure nothing that actually digests food should be putting that in its system."

"Well, I ate two,  just for you."  She leaned in for a kiss.  Buffy kissed her hungrily.  And then they were all over each other, hands clutching at fabric, tongues finding skin, suddenly sweaty and hot.  Faith farted twice more, long and noisy.

Buffy had her shirt off and Faith was quickly undoing her bra.  "God, I love your tits."  She buried her face between them, nuzzling, then tonguing around a hard nipple.  She placed her hand on the other, and pinched just a little.  Buffy ground the crotch of her jeans against Faith's thigh.  Faith leaned in.  "I gotta go soon.  I don't want to get off you, though."

"Go as in...?"

Faith whispered huskily.  "As in just how you think.  Drop a big fat load of shit."

Buffy smiled.  "So don't get off me."

"It's still workin' its way down.  Knowing me though, my guts are gonna freak and force it all out any minute."

Buffy suddenly remembered that Faith hadn't put on her choker yet.  "Wait."

Faith groaned, "Oh, jesus, you sure?  Mount Lehane's about to blow."

"Just, lemme get something out of my purse."

"FIne.  Clenching."

Buffy fished around.  She heard Faith breathing hard.  God, this was hot.

She put the choker in her mouth and crawled catlike onto the bed.  An angry noise burbled from within Faith's stomach.

"OK, that's sexy, stop fucking with the desperate girl."

Buffy placed it around Faith's neck and kissed her deeply.  She slid her hands onto Faith's ass and started to knead.  Faith farted thunderously, then a telltale crackle sounded.  Buffy slid her hands over the growing bulge in Faith's pants.  It was softer than clay, but not quite like mud.  She mashed and smeared through the fabric as a powerful, earthy stink filled the room.  Faith slid her own hands inside Buffy's panties.  As soon as a finger slid over her clit, Buffy came, howling Faith's name.

When she gained her composure, she smiled.  "You did great," she told Faith.

"Bitch, I'm still horny.  And I gotta wash off."  She smiled.  "Wanna help?"

Chapter Text

Both the panties and the sweats were a lost cause.  Faith chucked them in a plastic bag and tied it off.  A few chunks of shit landed on the bathroom tile.  She'd clean them up later.  Her gut was still audibly churning.  B was still lying on the bed, all glowy.

"Get over here already," shouted Faith, stepping into the cramped shower.

Buffy smiled, and walked over to the bathroom.  She stepped in the one of the little stinking piles on the floor, and wiggled her toes a little in it.  Jesus christ.

She stepped in, shitty right foot forward. and smiled at Faith.  "Hey, so, um, I haven't gotten you off yet."

Faith smiled.  "Any ideas?"

"Well, I kinda want to, um, play with your ass.  You know, wash it, but play with it too."

"We've been there, but OK."  Faith let Buffy soap up her hands and rub away the shit smeared on her ass and thighs.  She began with her thighs, then the sides of her cheeks, and then slipped into the cleft of Faith's ass.  She traced Faith's anus with a finger. and then began to prod it a little.  She slid her finger in slowly, a knuckle at a time.  Faith groaned.  It hurt a little, but then a little pain was nice.

"You did so good tonight, Faith."

There it was again.  Buffy had said that earlier.

"Did I?"

"Yeah.  I mean it was a good poop, and you just...we're saving the town here."

Buffy was pumping her finger in and out.  Faith wondered what a whole cock would be like up there, because Buffy's finger felt huge.

"I don't get that a lot."

"What, butt stuff?"

"No, you thirsty bitch.  Attagirls, you know?"

Buffy withdrew her finger, and idly sniffed it.  "Well, maybe you should."

"Stink's that powerful, huh?"

"I mean, yeah, but I wasn't being flirty-chick there.  Or maybe I was?  But you're, you know, kinda cool."

So that was what Buffy thought?  "I'm kinda horny and kinda not being touched," she said.

"How do you want me to touch you?"

"Ever eaten pussy before, B?" Before Buffy could answer, Faith cut her off, "Yeah, I know you haven't."

"We'd better do that on the bed."

"Agreed."

Buffy lay back, and Faith straddled her.  B's cute little nose was brushing Faith's clit and her tongue was just scarcely teasing Faith's labia.

"What, you think it's got teeth?"

Buffy began to lick and then suckle, and kind of wiggled her face around in there.  It wasn't perfect, but she was trying.  Faith tried to rev her engine more by playing with her nipples.  And then B got the hang of it.  Jesus H. Cobain that was good stuff.

And then Faith felt her bowels shift in a big way.  Fuck it.  B liked her gas.  She pushed out fart after fart as her pleasure increased.  They were foul, they were noisy, and every one felt like it could herald a big accident.

And then one did.  Faith blew a big wet load of diarrhea all down Buffy's chest and belly.  It was coming out of her like a firehose.  She didn't even care.  And then B really went to work.  And Faith came, hard, clenching her thighs around Buffy's head.  She howled the word 'fuck' about a dozen times.  And then she went nonverbal.  She came down, and released a final spurt of shit with a noise like a ketchup bottle.

Buffy mumbled something into Faith's crotch.

"Say what?"

Buffy scooted up on the bed.  "Did I do good?"

"Think so.  You're a mess, though."  Faith got out of position and took a good look.  B was just covered in wet shit.  Like, Faith knew she could produce a lot, but this was something else.

"Yeah.  I guess being pooped on wasn't too extreme after all.  I kinda liked it."

"B, pooping isn't the right word for what I did.  I full-on shat."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"So did we do it?"

"Help kill the succubus, you mean?"

"Yeah."

Buffy shrugged.  "We gotta ask Jenny and Giles first, I think."

"Well, you better shower.  Solo, this time, 'cause I'm, uh, good not touching all that.'

Buffy laughed.  "Shut up!  All that came out of you!"  She gathered a little from around her navel and smeared it on Faith's cheek.

"Fuck, now I gotta shower too."

Buffy smiled.  "All according to plan."

"Round 3?" asked Faith

"Round 3." said Buffy.

Chapter Text

"So did it work?"

Giles smiled.  "It did."

It had been two days.  No dreams, no nothing.

"The power of love, huh?"

"Yes, I recall the song.  Is Faith feeling better?"

Giles didn't know about Buffy's kink, but he did know that Faith had eaten herself sick and had spent most of the day after the ritual running to the bathroom.

"She is."

"That's good.  You've been a good friend to her."

Buffy blushed.  "Friend is one word for it."

"Are you more than that?"

"I don't know.  Do you think she wants to date?"

"I don't know her as well as you do, Buffy.  I understand that one generally asks the other party to their face, though."

"So I gotta ask her out."

Giles just smiled.

That night, Buffy made a phone call about maybe seeing a movie.  Faith said yes.

The power of love indeed.

Chapter Text

*Two years later*

Faith had it alright.  She had a diagnosis and some meds now, for the really bad stomach days.  Not that she still couldn't put on a show for Buffy.  Their sex life was amazing, and it took about a year, but Faith had finally said 'I love you.'  So that was something.

The Harris kid had helped Faith get a construction job with him.  The boys actually got kind of a kick out of her monster farts, which would just kinda slip out, the way she had to bend and squat for the job.  And it paid enough for a one-bedroom that wasn't like B's house or anything, but it, too, was something.

Willow was gay, which, well, Faith thought she was at the very least bi, so yeah.  Her new girlfriend had wicked constipation, and was a sweetie besides, so Faith had a bathroom buddy.  One of these days she was gonna get Buffy in for a gassy three-way, if Willow was down.  She guessed she'd call Tara and Xander and Willow friends.  Which, again, was something.

They'd saved the world a couple times more.  Like you do.  It didn't look like they were gonna have to stop saving it.

Anyway, life was better.  Faith couldn't always say that.  And to think this all started because she had to take a crap outside one night.  Shit, man.