All right, the bio for me, Samantha C (Sammie):
I grew up perfectly normal, well-raised, all that. No serious pervs in my family, etc. Only one sibling, my sister (we'll call her Celeste), who is five years older.
It was not a big thing as a little kid for me to get shit on fingers when I pooped. I would wipe, and sometimes it was there -- no big deal. I remember my mother explaining how that happens sometimes and how that was the important reason why everybody should always wash their hands really well after using the potty. Made sense. Shit was nasty. It smelled awful. It got all over everything you touched. It was like finger paint. It was like messy barbeque like we used to eat all the time in my house. I understood I had to get it cleaned off.
But something in me got curious.
I was about seven or eight when I first actually sat their on the toilet and studied my fingers. It had been the first time in a while that I was messy on my hand after wiping, and I remember I didn't automatically have that "oh my GOD, Igottacleanthisoffrightnow!!!" kind of urge. Instead, I started to sniff at it and look at it and just sit there. I sat there forever smelling the brown scum on my fingers, and I got this feeling. It's the way you want to feel, you know? But taboo took over, right, and I ended up scrubbing real good with the soap and running off to do my little kid things, same as always.
Meanwhile, my sister is looking after me more and more, since by then she was like 13. She'd always been real touchy and lovey on me, but as I got older she really, really liked to catch me in the tickle game. Said our older cousins used to do it with her all the time, like she did with her friends, too. It was a girl thing, where you agree to tickle each other for a minute or two or three, whatever the two of you decide, and you'd see who'd pee their pants first. Anyway. My sister was doing that to me a lot back then, really on my ribs and thighs and all, and I remember how I was even sore a lot from how hard she went after me to make me wet myself. And I was very ticklish. So you can imagine how that went.
But little pee-squirts didn't do a bit for me, sexually, not the way my shitty fingers did. Whatever that was all about, it was my sister's thing, not mine. By the time she was a couple years older, though, and the boys came into the picture for her, then she pretty much pretended I didn't exist; and if she ever remembered I was around, she treated me like dirt. That's the status quo to this day, matter-of-fact, and that still really bothers me. Because she did open up this one huge door for me, whether she intended to or not.
It was my nipples. One of Celeste's big tickle techniques during the tickle game was the tittie-twister thing where she'd pinch and twist my little nips as hard as she could. She'd go from my ribs up to my chest in an instant, and the pain would hit me right in the middle of a laugh, and all I could do was try to fight off her hands and get some relief from the pain. Then, quick as lightning, her hands would be back on my ribs or thighs, and I was done. No defense. My body was still sending everything into shock from the tittie pains, and suddenly I was tickled like crazy again, and I'd bust my bladder.
So my nipples, by the time I hit nine, were a huge zone of feeling for me. It got to where I'd sort of tingle afterward all over, for hours sometimes, and I had this incredible urge to pinch and twist them myself. But they'd still be so sore! I'd sneak feels under my own shirt later, while watching TV or doing homework or riding in the car, and I'd just rub them. And down inside, this place I couldn't get at, you know, it was just on fire. I wanted to rub my nips all the time, sometimes. And if Celeste hadn't hurt them in a while I'd do it myself. I even snuck clothespins out of our mother's basket by the washer, and I'd snap on a clothespin to each nipple and sit in my room doing my homework, just sneaking a finger or two across the agonized purple little tips of flesh every now and then. And wow! That feeling I had! You know how at that age you don't have a clue, but I just knew that was something I'd keep as my special happy little secret thing for forever.
But I was getting more and more into studying my shit, too. By the time I was nine I had gotten into the habit of wiping a little bit with the paper, but then leaving the last two or three swipes for my bare fingers, so I'd have a little brown smear to study and sniff. Then one lucky night I'd just been tittie-twisted all to hell by Celeste. She'd been mad because I hadn't pissed myself that time, but I paid the price, since holding it so hard also made me almost shit myself, too. I got into the bathroom and locked the door within minutes of her giving up the game, and I had a huge piss and shit into the toilet. Well, my nipple were throbbing, sticking way out, all red and purpled all around, and I was going nuts it felt so bad and so good all at once.
Reaching down to wipe, I hit my crotch same as usual to clean the pee, and I nearly fell off the toilet! For the first time I'd managed to stroke on my clit, fully bared and ready and all that. I'd squiggled around down there a lot before, but never with such a massive, happy, instant result. I had to do it more! So I spent maybe half an hour just stroking and fondling my clit, using my other hand to pinch and caress my nipples at the same time, and I was in heaven.
Meanwhile, the toilet was full of my piss and shit, since I'd forgotten to flush, and I of course hadn't gotten around to wiping my ass yet. I realized all that after the half hour or so of fooling around with myself, and then I immediately realized that I liked two new things, too: the smell of the stink in that room, and knowing that my asshole was covered in my own thick, nasty shit. I reached down with my masturbating hand and felt the poop that was sticking all over and around my asshole. I moved my fingers around down there, smearing it a little in my crack, a littl on my cheeks. My other hand kept on doing my nipples, and I was really, really, happy about how it all felt. My finger, for the first time, went up inside my asshole. I probed and wiggled and pumped it in an out for a long time. It went in really easy, all lubed with my shit, and the sounds of the squishing nasty poop -- just wow, you know?
Then I had to see, so up came my hand, absolutely ruined with shit. Even little globs were caught between a couple fingers, and underneath my fingernails it was stained and nasty. My nose got right on it, though, and I started sniffing. It was so nice! My other hand was still on my nipples, and I was almost mad at myself for not knowing all along how nice this other private pleasure could be, right! So I dabbed just a little under my nose, on my upper lip and between my nostrils, and then I had to do it. I switched hands.
My shitty fingers went to my nipples, and as I pinched and stroked all over them, I looked down and watched. That nearly killed me, I swear. Seeing all that brown smeared all over, smelling it so strong and knowing it was on my own face! God! And then my other hand, even though it was a little awkward, found a good pace on my clit. Boom! It was maybe ten seconds and I was into the first orgasm I can ever remember. My eyes were watering over the sight and the stench from my filthy little shitty nipples. It was all I could do not to fall off the toilet!
So it's probably pretty obvious how I spent my bathroom time from then on. I wasn't a stupid kid. I of course didn't think I was doing normal things that other kids or that my parents would accept. I knew I was a nasty, filthy thing for what I liked. But that made me like it even more. Especially since I could, and did, hide it and have no troubles because of it -- just as long as I stayed smart about when and how I went about playing with my own shit.
Before I was ten I was licking and sucking my fingers. Once I had my first period and started experiencing more intense orgasms, I began to have this craving to actually eat a full bite of my shit. I was almost thirteen, in the seventh grade. It was the first night my parents left me home all alone. Celeste was on a date, my parents were on a date. I planned it all out and had a nice big dump, fished out a log, and just went completely sick with it.
That story I'll write up later though, right? This is just the "how and why" part of the program, after all. And now maybe you can understand a little better the reason for us making this site and sharing what we've done over the years. Posting on message boards is great and everything, but it's just time to get it all put down in one place -- uncensored -- once and for all. So be patient, we'll share bit by bit, and maybe you'll be able to get over your own fears and whatever like we did and find a big fun part of yourself that you've always kept locked out!