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Raccoons Make Shitty Pets 2: Rebel's 4th Of July Explosion

Warning: Contains bestiality with a non-talking feral, and heavy, HEAVY watersports and scat play.

It was a couple months since the incident when my pet raccoon, Rebel, accidentally plugged herself up by eating a bunch of composting kitchen scraps. She hadn't been able to shit for a week, and when the laxatives finally took effect the results were spectacular. We'd discovered that we both had an unusual, and filthy fetish, and Rebel'd had a few more "accidents" in the bathtub since then, but nothing as bad as the first time.

But that all changed on the Fourth of July. I was going to a potluck dinner with a couple of friends, and in retrospect I went way overboard on the traditional summertime foods. Burgers, watermelon, hot dogs, fried chicken, the works. It was fortunate I did though, because Rebel had the padlock combination for the cooler memorized. I left her alone for ten minutes, and came back to find an almost cartoonish disaster, with my bloated pet still greedily stuffing her face while surrounded by chicken bones and watermelon rinds.

Luckily, she hadn't eaten anything dangerous like chicken bones, and despite her eating enough food for at least five people (and some of my buddies aren't exactly skinny, but don't tell them that), I ended up bringing leftovers home after the fireworks show.

Rebel greeted me at the door, eager but obviously in significant discomfort. The poor thing's belly was actually dragging on the floor she was so full. To make matters worse, she had been holding in her poop for two days already. I'd been planning a "fun" night to make up for the frightening noise of the fireworks. I hadn't given her her dose of laxatives yet because if she got startled too badly that could have caused a real accident, but greasy food gives Rebel the runs, and so does too much fruit. I was impressed she'd even made it this long. This was going to be bad.

Now I admit, I'd had a couple beers that night (don't worry, I wasn't the Designated Driver). Maybe several beers. I was dumb enough to believe Rebel when she acted hungry, and let her eat most of the leftovers, and then after using the bathroom I stumbled into bed and fell asleep. At around one in the morning I was woken up with repeated bites on the hand by one seriously desperate raccoon.

"All right, all right, I'm up..." I groaned, rubbing my eyes as I sat up in bed. "Rebel, what is... oh, right." I looked at her bloated belly. Her stomach was rumbling and groaning ominously, and she grimaced in concentration. "Oh. Rebel, do you need to go potty?"

The response was a frantic nod.

"All right, get in the bath and we can get all messy together," I said with an affectionate pat to the head. But I had a slightly cruel idea and headed to the kitchen to grab the tupperware with the last of the cantaloupe and watermelon.

Poor Rebel couldn't even get into the tub by herself. I picked her up and laid her down on her back. God, she weighed a ton!

"Okay, girl, do you just need to poop, or do you have to pee too?"

She responded with two sharp twitches of her tail. That made sense: if she had diarrhea like I suspected, it would be hard to release her bladder without letting _everything_out. Was it even possible? I was curious. "Well, you can't go yet, girl. Let's see if we can get a little more fluid in you. Just keep holding it..."

I got all the fruit out of the container and climbed into the tub with my desperate pet, closing the shower curtain. I knew from experience that there could be some serious splattering with a raccoon who had to go this badly. I offered her a slice of watermelon. She took it with her adorable little paws and started to nibble halfheartedly, but she was quivering with the effort of holding on against the incredible pressure inside her. She didn't last long. Halfway through the slice yellow liquid started to bubble out of her pussy like a drinking fountain. She groaned and flattened her ears, but kept eating. Evidently it was good.

Even though Rebel couldn't have been pushing to get her pee out because she'd have shit herself if she did, the trickle soon grew to a flood. A thick stream of golden, musky raccoon piss arched into the air, drenching her fluffy ringed tail. A puddle ran down the tub floor to the drain. Her head was towards the drain, and her entire back had to have been soaked as well. But that didn't mean I couldn't make it worse for her. I reached over her and plugged the drain.

Rebel let out a whimper. Her toes and fingers curled as the stream became a trickle running down over her quivering pink anus again. I realized she'd done everything in her power to stop herself for my sake when I leaned forward. "Sorry, girl. It's okay if I get a little wet. Just pee."

Now a look of blissful relief spread across Rebel's adorable face as she obeyed my instructions. She dug into the watermelon more greedily, polishing it off with a golden fountain still flowing freely. She looked up at me with the sweetest, glistening eyes, pink juice dripping from her muzzle and whiskers. Who could resist a face like that?

"Do you want some more, girl?" I offered her a slice of canteloupe. Rebel made little grabby hands, but I teased her a little by holding it in her stream before giving it to her. That didn't put her off. She gnawed at it, still peeing. It was like the moisture-filled fruit was going right through her! She relaxed a little more, and the stream shot halfway across the tub. I had nowhere to go to get out of the line of fire. Warm liquid splashed joyously over my stomach, my thighs, and my groin. "Oh, wow..." I instantly started to rise at the sensation, and was reminded that my own bladder was uncomfortably full as well. But it was short-lived. Rebel's stream petered out, and the raccoon winced and clutched at her stomach as an especially potent and wet-sounding gurgle announced that the end was nigh for her hold.

"Do you have to poop now, sweetie?" I asked. Everyone asks their pets questions they already know the answers to, right? I was tempted to make her wait to do that as well, but she'd already done such a good job holding it in while she peed. "All right, get up on my lap, sweetie-pie!" I took hold of her paws and pulled her to her feet, embracing her in a hug. She gazed lovingly up at me as she settled down on my lap. God, her back really was soaked in urine from the neck down. Her warm, damp fur against my crotch made my dick stand at attention, pressing against her stomach and coaxing a groan of discomfort from her throat. "Poor thing... it's okay to let it out now!"

Rebel sighed in contentment, and her other end made a sound that's hard to capture in text form. Something like SPPSPLURRRTTT, SPLOOP BLURRRRRPPP BLTTT! It was like if you turned a half-full bottle of Hershey's chocolate syrup upside-down and squeezed with all your strength. Same color, different smell. I felt hot, sticky muck gush out all over my legs and crotch. Just as I feared, my pet had diarrhea. But the look of relief that spread out across her face was just so cute! And I was rock hard now, even through my buzz. My dick brushed her asshole and unleashed another sputtering tsunami of liquid raccoon shit.

"Aww... poor thing!" I caressed her head. "It didn't feel good holding all that in, did it? I'm sorry..."

'BRBRRRRRRRUTT BRBRBLRBL SPLOOSSSSSSHHHH!" Rebel responded with her butthole. A huge slick of greasy animal feces had spread across the tub.

"Okay, that's enough, girl. Let's see how big a mess you made." I lifted her off me. The damage was spectacular. My entire groin was painted brown, my thighs were plattered and flecked with shit, with big mushy lumps everywhere like a bad attempt at mixing paper mache, and there was a massive, gloppy pile between my legs. I turned Rebel around, and realized her rear end was just as bad. The poor creature's hindquarters, pussy, and the underside of her tail were a slimy swamp of glistening scat. As I watched, a sticky lump dripped off her spread legs, and more oozed from her asshole. She surveyed the damage with an expression like a kicked puppy, her lower lip trembling. Then, without a word from me, she padded towards me, stepping in her own waste, and nuzzled my crotch.

At first I'd had misgivings about Rebel licking or eating her own shit, but we'd both gotten a little bit used to it now. She didn't usually throw up anymore. It usually meant horrible diarrhea for days, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"Are you cleaning me up?" I asked, scratching behind her ears. "Good girl!" She gagged as she licked at my dick. Well, maybe after she'd upset her stomach like this it tasted extra-bad. "Don't you still have to poop?" The raccoon nodded, but kept on licking and sucking. In my slightly-inebriated state, I decided it was best if she could do her best to clean me up while still soiling herself. So, I took a bit of a risk. I wrestled the poor creature into position upside-down against my body, with her hands kneading against my thighs, her mouth over my dick, and her hind legs spread wide on my chest while I sat against the back wall of the tub.

"All right, you need to be very, very careful not to spray me, Rebel," I warned her. The raccoon just gurgled on a mouthful of shitty penis. Then her other end gurgled too. Her quivering pucker was closer than seemed safe. Was this really a good idea?

Then, she started to leak. It was pure liquid at first, making me reconsider the move, but it was just trickling out of her and occasionally spurting up to shoulder height. Her furry crotch wasn't a watertight seal against my chest, and I could hear it running and dripping down our bodies, but each fresh wave pooled there. Then her filthy anus yawned wide, and with hissing and popping noises a coil of soft-serve sewage oozed out, slowly piling up on her thigh.

The naughty raccoon made a noise almost like a giggle, and resumed slurping, waving her piss-soaked tail in my face. I didn't have the heart to stop her, though, because sludge was pouring out of her ass again. A thick, sticky pool of shit drowned her pussy, and kept growing until it overflowed her chubby thighs and ran down her back like a fondue fountain. Soft logs surfaced from the lake of shit, and they too were carried away in the river of muck.

Then the poor thing puked, and the her stomach cramping caused an explosion at the other end. Luckily the sweet little thing sacrificed the cleanliness of her own tail, clamping it down over her poop chute just in time for a gloppy flood. But after that near-disaster I knew this position really was a bad idea, at least when Rebel had the runs.

That didn't mean upside-down wasn't off the table, though.

"Okay, I think you're just getting me dirtier, sweetheart. I'm sorry, you can clean me up some more later." I spun her around - easy in the slippery pool of raccoon piss and diarrhea in the tub - and held her against me, still upside-down but now with her back against me. Our eyes met again. Her face was disgusting, her fur and whiskers flecked with her own shit and pink and orange lumps of watermelon and cantaloupe, but she licked her lips, then her dirty paw.

"Jesus, Rebel... maybe I'd better clean _you_up a little before you poop some more." She let out a whine of protest as I slid her down. "It's okay, I didn't mean with water."

My bladder had rapidly filled up. I was desperate for a toilet, and a pet would do in a pinch. "Open wide, sweetheart." Before I knew it, the result of too many beers was gushing all over the poor raccoon's face, pressure-washing away the shit and vomit. It was the kind of pee where if you're in a bar guys at nearby urinals will ask if you're okay because you've been there for a long time. The only witness couldn't talk, but she certainly seemed astonished by the golden flood. Not surprised enough not to eagerly close her eyes and turn her head from side to side under the stream, completely drenching herself, though. Then she opened her mouth. Her dainty maw was filled up to the canines with foaming piss almost immediately, and twin waterfalls flowed down her forelegs, but she contentedly sat there, contentedly showering in urine and washing the taste of her own puke away.

But I knew she still had to go, so as soon as my bladder was empty and she'd licked the last drops from the tip of my cock, I pulled her back into position again. "All righty girl... Let it all out..."

'BLRRRURPTSPLUPBRLPT!' What a good little raccoon she was. She barely even needed instruction. Or she just had to go so badly that it came out all by itself. A fresh avalanche of hot, gloppy sludge erupted from her colon, applying a third coat of greasy diarrhea to her hindquarters and running down her fuzzy, bloated stomach in a chocolate waterfall that would have made Willy Wonka jealous. I chuckled at her cute sigh of relief, but almost immediately her toes curled and she grimaced with another cramp. Creamy coils of crackling feces erupted from her overflowing rectum, piling up on her hindquarters and stomach. I gently slid the slippery mass down until it fell from her tummy and splatted onto her chest right at shoulder level. The sound she made was almost purring.

For the first time that night it seemed, the dirty creature actually pushed, A colossal log emerged, rising almost six inches into the air before it collapsed under its own weight. I pushed her rump a little further away from me, a little higher into the air, as more and more feces oozed out. It was getting so close now... there, as the log got softer it broke free, slid off her pussy, and splatted down on her face, draping itself over her from her chin to the top of her head. But she still wasn't done. More turds joined it - the last one falling into her mouth. Another push, and now it was runny slime the consistently of oatmeal again, with occasionally barely-solid ribbons, still running down her shit-slicked pussy and dribbling onto her head as she worked the filth around in her maw with her tongue.

"Are you done yet, sweetie?" I asked as Rebel panted from the effort. She looked uncertain. Then her eyes widened. A loud, sputtering fart shot flecks of shit at least a foot into the air. That gurgling couldn't be good.

My pet raccoon never ceased to amaze me in more ways than one: her intelligence, her lovingness, and her seemingly inexhaustible bowels. And the greasy, fatty feast had created a monster inside her. She erupted in a diarrhea geyser of horrific proportions that completely undid all the work I'd done hosing down her face. Streams of stinking sewage spewed out of her, crashing down all over her quivering body while the poor trash panda's tummy gurgled like a garbage disposal. Her face vanished beneath a dark brown mud mask. The poor creature actually seemed in danger of drowning herself. I let her butt down a little so her waste mounded up there and I could reach down to clear it away from her nose, but Rebel's own shit was still pouring down her body.

Finally, it stopped, with one more squirt of diarrhea arcing into the air and splattering her face, but the mess couldn't possibly have gotten any worse. I let Rebel down into a pool of sewage. I wasn't sure if she was making happy sounds or crying, but the poor girl was covered. It was hard to believe she actually enjoyed this. Wild animals were disgusting.

The filthy raccoon lay on her back, rolling and writhing in her own waste. It seemed like she was done at least for now, but I offered her another slice of melon. Then two, then three. "Careful sweetie, you'll make yourself sick..." Too late. "...Again." She kept eating, heedless of her paws being coated in shit. Her tail was the only part of her that had been even a little bit clean, but now she was thoroughly soiling it, a growing pile of mushy scat loudly pouring out of her butt. A few more squirts of diarrhea sealed the deal. All I needed to do was smear the mess around a bit, and roll her around on the floor, and every inch of poor Rebel's body was covered in her own waste.

Without the pressure in her bowels though, she became a bit more playful. She wanted to climb in my lap, wanted to grind her bottom against me, wanted to lick me until her face was frosted with ropes of hot cum. And I could hardly stop her. Never wrestle a raccoon in a bathtub that's totally slippery with her shit. Well, maybe wrestle her a little bit. Maybe punish her for smearing her shit on me by giving her a huge enema of warm water.

Now desperation made her more subdued again. It was so cute how another liter of liquid up the butt made her mood change. Even cuter was when her attempts to hold it in failed completely. I wasn't sure she was trying that hard, though. She was clearly having way too much fun shaking her little ass in the air and spraying fountains of liquid at me, lifting her leg and letting go onto my feet and licking my toes clean, then lying down on her side and letting the last of the runny brown liquefied crap form a river down her thigh.

Clearly she needed another. But first, I made sure to give her a nice, long drink from the enema nozzle, and waited until she was doing a potty dance... then an extra fifteen minutes. She must have had to piss really badly by now, and so did I. No, maybe just a little longer. "Hang on, Rebel." I patted her head. "Just a bit longer." Eww. The shit was starting to dry out in her fur. That wouldn't be fun to wash off. I cleaned my hands of a little with the bottle of hand sanitizer I kept next to the tub, and sprayed her down a little bit with the shower head, being careful not to actually _clean_her. She was perfect just the way she was, covered from nose to tail in a thick coat of her own excrement. I made her roll over for a belly rub in the puddle on the floor, putting a little bit of pressure on her cute little bladder bulge. She groaned.

I sort of wanted to wait until we were both about to piss ourselves before the finale, but Rebel's stomach rumbled and gurgled again. With a look of shock and discomfort she clenched her legs together.

"Uh oh. Rebel, do you have to poop again?" A nod. "Do you think it's going to be runny?" Another nod. "Do you have to go a lot or a little?"

I weighed my options. If it was a lot, then I didn't really _need_to give her the second enema for a good mess, but if I did it wouldn't water things down too much. Besides, the best way to deal with a raccoon with diarrhea is to make sure her colon is thoroughly cleaned out so she can make it till morning. Cleaning liquid animal feces out of a bathtub is much easier than cleaning it out of a bed, let me tell you.

Rebel must have forgotten about the second enema. She seemed surprised when I showed her the full bag, and she squirmed quite a bit as the warm water worked its way up into her. She leaked a little past the nozzle, and once it was out stood there quivering with the effort of avoiding losing control. Aww... she really is irresistibly cute when she's desperate. I lay down on my back with my head against the sloped wall at the back of the tub, and invited my pet onto my lap, cuddling and stroking her. "Man, you're just a sloppy mess, aren't you girl?" I chuckled. "All right, turn around, but keep holding it. I want you to keep holding it as long as you ca - ooh, that's my bladder, don't put your weight there, holy shit!"

I'd almost lost control, but Rebel couldn't have been much better. Underneath her sodden tail, her asshole was quivering and occasionally leaking a little bit of clear liquid. Maybe this position was a little dangerous. I'd let her do it like this before, but only with a firmer load. "Be careful you don't spray me in the face, sweetie, or we'll have to stop." There were only three rules I made her follow. Bodily fluids had to stay in the bathtub, they couldn't go on my head or face, and the most I was willing to do was pee on her. Which would probably be happening pretty soon one way or another. Or maybe not. She was licking at the tip of my penis again, and fondlingly it lovingly with her slimy paws.

At this point the beers were getting to me enough I wasn't sure if I could get it up, but then Rebel let out a groan and a whimper. A thin stream of liquid sprayed from her anus, soaking my chest, and I instantly hardened again. It was followed by a long, loud, bubbling fart like her ass was half-underwater, and a couple more squirts, noticeably brown now. Another groan from Rebel, and she slid her muzzle halfway down my shaft and gagged. I felt slimy liquid coat my member. "Uh oh... don't make yourself sick, girl... Fuck, if you keep licking like that I'm gonna -" She whimpered again and stood partway up. "Wait, wait, wait, not my face, not my face!"

I pushed her rump back down to a squat just in time. A river of murky brown liquid spewed out of her with a horrific smell. She trembled and tried to hold her legs closed, but fluid was just pouring from between her thighs despite her best efforts. "Good... good girrrllll..." There was no way of stopping my orgasm. It was as uncontrollable as Rebel's enema-bloated bowels. I felt seed rush out into her mouth, then onto her face. "That's it, just let it all out!" I panted.

The desperate raccoon was only too happy to oblige. With a blissful sigh her muscles relaxed. She arched her back, and another stream of foul fluids gushed from beneath her poop-plastered tail, now mixed with nearly-dissolved shit.

"Good grief, what am I going to do with you, girl?" I patted my filthy pet's flank. "I'm gonna have to cork that widdle hole!"

Rebel, sweet as she was, was understandably resistant to anything that would delay her relieving herself now that the floodgates had opened. She looked back at me with an annoyed hiss and blasted my finger with slimy butt mud. "Oh, gross!" I wiped it off on her. She grinned and raised her bottom a little higher, wagging her tail dangerously close to my face. With a feral grin, she planted one paw on my bladder.

"Ow! Fuck! Rebel, I told you not to-" I almost doubled over with the pain. I was fuller than I'd thought. My crotch spasmed, and I felt it get drenched in hot liquid. I was peeing. "You see what you made me do?"

There was no sympathy from Rebel, only a surging, sputtering river of runny raccoon poop pouring out of her. I gave in completely to my aching bladder. She drank greedily from the tap, and tugged my penis back and forth with her nimble paws, aiming the fountain back and forth and utterly drenching her whole head and upper back. "Hey, don't get yourself clean yet, Rebel." I put a hand under her dripping sphincter and tickled her pussy with one finger. She let out a startled squeak and let loose, filling my hand. Still peeing, I brought the dripping mushy pile to her face. She sniffed at it, eagerly ate a generous amount - she'd always taken well to hand-feeding - and washed it down with another gulp of piss. I splatted the rest onto her head and rubbed it in a bit, then scooped up more of the slick of filth she'd deposited on my chest and slicked her back fur with it, rubbing the mess back and forth, still peeing.

Meanwhile, Rebel's own bladder had reached its limit. With an apologetic 'Eep,' she squatted over me and unleashed a bubbly yellow flood. A jet of urine blasted a tiny clean spot in the layer of shit on my belly. She was standing over me now, happily drenching me with a loud hiss. "Aww, did you have to pee, too?" I asked affectionately. My bladder was finally empty. "You're just so naughty!"

Rebel smirked and lifted her leg, but then grimaced as her gut cramped again. Before she had time to change posture, a stream of syrupy scat splattered against my shoulders and throat.

"Ooh! Be careful, Rebel!" I warned.

With a pathetic whine, the poor creature lowered herself back into the puddle of her own waste with a wet squelch, but continued to uncontrollably urinate and defecate on her owner. A slimy pile accumulated between her legs once her bladder was empty, but then a huge eruption splattered it against my chin. I almost vomited.

"Damnit, that's enough!" I pushed the raccoon off. She fell into a puddle of liquid shit and piss with a splash and looked up at my pathetically, about to cry with her face completely caked in filth. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I know it's not your fault, but you're just a little runnybutt tonight!" My face softened at her forlorn expression.

"Do you still have to go?"

A sad little nod.

"Okay, let's put you back up on your head! That way it can go on you! That's where your poop belongs! On your face, not on mine!"

She was squirming uncomfortably, and I barely got her back up there before her ass exploded again. With my hands holding her legs open and her bowels too lose to be controlled even with gravity on her side, there was nothing the poor girl could do to stop herself from becoming a diarrhea volcano for the second time that night. Thick spurts of liquid shit arced into the air and mudslides poured down her shivering body. Soupy feces splashed and dribbled all over her face, but she still opened wide, first with her mouth and then with her anus. A thick river of gloppy mush that turned into sludge filled her mouth and almost completely buried her head.

After I'd let her back down onto her back and made sure she didn't choke on her own waste, she seemed to be done. But after rolling around in the mess and grinding her soiled hindquarters against my crotch, she practically forced me to let her get back on into not-quite-69 position. I felt like there was an implicit promise that she'd be able to keep from spraying this time. I reluctantly agreed, after giving her a somewhat smaller enema and letting her expel most of the liquid on my lap.

This time the sweet little critter seemed tired. She didn't suck or writhe, just snuggled up against my stomach and nuzzled at my crotch a little before raising her tail. A river of diarrhea flowed from between her legs, pouring off my chest in chocolate waterfalls, but it was a calm river now, not a raging torrent. Slowly, it died away with a few bubbling farts and squirts of pee. Finally, Rebel let out a sigh of the purest contentment and just lay there, her ill-advised meal finally disposed of.

The little cutie was drifting off to sleep, and it took all my willpower to not do the same, and just lie there with us both totally covered in her diarrhea. I was pretty wiped out. But again, dried crusty shit is just nasty. I gently picked up the groggy, gloppy raccoon, unplugged the drain, and thoroughly washed us both clean.

But as I lay awake in bed a while later with my pet snuggled in my arms, I couldn't get the experience out of my head.

Maybe next time I'd let her go on my face after all, just to see what she enjoyed so much about it.