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“My sweet naughty girl I got your hot letter tonight and have been trying to picture you frigging your cunt in the closet. How do you do it? Do you stand against the wall with your hand tickling up under your clothes or do you squat down on the hole with your skirts up and your hand hard at work in through the slit of your drawers? Does it give you the horn now to shit? I wonder how you can do it. Do you come in the act of shitting or do you frig yourself off first and then shit? It must be a fearfully lecherous thing to see a girl with her clothes up frigging furiously at her cunt, to see her pretty white drawers pulled open behind and her bum sticking out and a fat brown thing stuck half-way out of her hole. You say you will shit your drawers, dear, and let me fuck you then. I would like to hear you shit them, dear, first and then fuck you. Some night when we are somewhere in the dark and talking dirty and you feel your shite ready to fall put your arms round my neck in shame and shit it down softly. The sound will madden me and when I pull up your dress.”
― James Joyce

“So for a while, they sat peacefully in the swamp, listening to Mrs. Starch hum while the little panther slurped happily and the emerald leaves overhead shimmered and shook in the sunlight.”
― Carl Hiaasen, Scat

“When Celia cums, 'tis earthquake hour
The bed vibrates like kettledrums
It is a grand display of power
when Celia cums.

An up exhales a greasy stench
for which you curse the careless wench;
so things which must not be exprest,
when plumpt into the reeking chest,
send up an excremental smell
to taint the parts from whence they fell
the petticoats and gown perfume
which waft a stink around every room
thus finishing his grand survey
disgusted Strephon stole away
repeating his amorous fits

Oh! Celia, Celia, Celia shits!”
― Aleister Crowley

“I do not like scat porn! I refuse to comment on vomit porn. Nevermind, I have a vomit fetish; put this on goodreads.”
― Sarah Sadgirl

“As I teased, I smelled the faintest waft of shit coming up from underneath her. It smelled like fertile heaven: peat moss, soil, sod, loam. It smelled good because it was her. She had a perfume, and this was her base note.”
― Melissa Broder, Milk Fed