Proctological Super Surprise

I ate all night long.  Peanuts, broccoli, applesauce, chocolate, ham sandwiches, potato chips, etc, etc- and I’m friggin way stuffed.  The brown pressure has been building for about eight hours now as I carefully get out of my car and head into the proctologist’s office.  Every step seems to be jarring my bowels and I have to stay clinched up in order to keep everything in check.  I take a deep breath, ring the doorbell and walk in.  A big fat pig sitting pretty ugly in her white nurse outfit asks me my name.

“Ammond Tusticle.” I tell her.
“OK, Mr. Tusticle I have you down for 10:30. The doctor will be with you in a moment.” Uggo muh-hunda piggy speedily chews her pink gum and I stare at her- being obvious that I am fully disgusted. She looks back at me with a “What are you staring at?!” look.  I goggle for an extra second and grimace- then head over to the couch.

I take a seat and had a quick personal panic session that I was gonna lose control and let everything go.  But I got a fist grip on my bumhole and held everything in.  The brown thunder rumbled in my gut as the minutes passed like hours.
I picked up a Sports Illustrated and shouted over to the pig, “Hey! You got the latest edition of ButtWorld?” She stared blankly back at me and I prodded her with, “I mean this is a butt doctor’s office- I figure ButtWorld should be in your magazine rack, y’know for professional reasons.”
The nurse chewed her gum extra slow and dryly said,  “There is no such magazine as ButtWorld.”
I’m back at her with, “Fuck yeah there is honey! I find it down at my magazine shop right next to Juggs and Fat Asses! You might wanna check into the latter if you want some extra modeling work...” She was about to launch a reply at me when the doctor opened the door.
“Mr… uh... Tusticle...?” he said.
I smiled at the heffer nurse, rose out of my seat,  and said to the doctor with a big smile. “That’s me.”  As I followed the doc into the examination room I patted my butt so pignurse could see- and then pointed at her, snapped and winked.  She mentally growled (or in her case, oinked)  at me.  The doody pressure was building terribly as the doctor shut the door behind me.

“What seems to be the problem, Mr. Tusticle?”
“That’s Tusticle.” I corrected him- although I pronounced it the same as he did.
“I can’t make doody.” I told him.
“Sir, please... bowel move-ment...” He said.
“Si Si,  me no makey a bow-el move-ve-mente...” I said spanishy.
The doc squinted and said, “Mr. Tusticle, please put on this gown and get up on the table. I’ll be back in a jif.”
“Oh yes sir- right away sir...” I said all snooty.
The doctor glanced back at me twice before leaving the room- probably cause I started stripping before he left.  I was naked before the door shut.  The pain in my stomach was increasing and the doody was more than ready to blast out.

When the doctor came back in the room my clothes were everywhere. I was up on the table on my knees bent over- my ass fully exposed in his direction.  My hands were on my butt cheeks and I spread them apart giving the doc the evil brown eye.  ‘Jesus!’ the doc said as soon as he stepped into the room.
“How’s my shitter lookin doc?!” I yelled.
“Mr. Tusticle, you can relax for a second... I just want to ask you a few questions.”
I said, “That’s good doc cause I wanna ask you a few questions too!”
The doc looked at me for a second beat and then said, “How long have you had this constipation problem?”
“Oh... about a week?”
“And you’ve tried some laxatives?”
‘Fuck... uh..I mean Hell yeah! Tons... I got some kind of dood... uh bowel movement blockage or something...”
“OK let’s take a look.” The doc said as he strapped on his gloves and greased em.

The doctor peered into my butt and said, “You had some questions Mr. Tusticle?”
I struggled to hold in the doody and said, “What made you become a doody doctor, doc?”
The doctor cleared his voice and told me that he was not a ‘doody doctor’ and informed me that he was a proctologist.  I told him how I felt that he must really like doody because he is all involved with it everyday.  The doc said, “I am not involved with bowel movements, I am involved with helping people and this is the best way I can.”
I countered with, “But you stare at buttholes all day long! You must love doodybombs, huh?”

“Mr. Tusticle!” The doc yelled while looking at my buttocks. “I do not -quote unquote- ‘love doodybombs!’ I am a doctor and I am getting annoyed with your...”

My doody had built to climax and I felt the timing was perfect... I forced a brownout and pushed the inner plunger down on my awaiting explosion.  The farty blast was impressive to say the least and the doctor was caught by surprise mid-yell. Wet doodoo blasted out of my butt and splutted over his face.  A second wave came that was equally powerful and it boomed all over the doctor’s face giving him a second coat.  Elephant trumpet noise finished him off with a gentle smattering. I turned to look at my buttiwork and was stunned by what I saw. The doctor was frozen in time.  Almost absolutely still.  His mouth still hanging open from the yell- was splattered with doody.  I could see drippy chunks all over the inside of his mouth.  The only part of him that was moving was his eyes. He was blinking fast to get the doody sting out and his face was deep brown. The wall behind him was also splatted with brown brown so the force of the explosion must have been tremendous.  I hopped off the table and got dressed slowly- watching the frozenly doodified doctor.  I snuck out of the examining room and casually whistled while I walked by the big pig nurse who was yapping on the phone. I made a few pig snorts in her direction as a gift.  Outside I was- into my car in a flash- then I was off driving- taking pride in a job well done.  The doctor seemed awfully shocked, but my guess is he was relishing every moment.  After all he loves his doody.  As I headed over to the pig nurse’s apartment to await her arrival, I thanked god for allowing me to spread my brown joy and for the ability to make this world a better place.


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