Clark Kent loved to eat. It was one of those human things he loved. The problem was that whenever he went out for dinner something drastic always happened and he couldn't do that weird thing of just let somebody else deal with it while the world burned around him. Because of this he had to take drastic measures to enjoy whatever free dining time he could: he would eat a months worth of dining out in a night. He was a fast eater. After ordering sixty portions of beef bourguignon he stuffed it all down his throat like lightening. He limped back home clutching his full stomach and nursed his beef gut from the couch. he fell asleep happy in the knowledge that he had managed to have some downtime without Lex Luthor and his helicopter destroying Metropolis. He woke in the early hours feeling a problem. In his gut. Something was causing him pain and it was as if something was trying to force its way out of him. He wondered if it was a ploy to get rid of him and that he had swallowed a grenade or something. He felt like there was a rock in his colon.

He slunk off to the bathroom wondering if he could expel it like he had seen humans do (normally his body just reabsorbed waste into his body because of the sun.) he went into the bathroom he was seen to share with Lois Lane and looked nervously at the white seat. He took a stick and carefully used it to lift up the lid. He peered into the pan inspecting for anything that might bite him. When all was clear he locked the door and pulled down his pants. He sat down slowly and waited. Nothing happened. He attempted to do... well something but nothing happened as he didn't know what to do. He tried contracting the muscles he used to make love to Lois and felt something twinge as the rock in his colon moved a little. This was obviously what you did. You flexed your sex muscles. He sat there tensing his pelvis muscles but whatever moved would not move any further. He tried harder and felt something hit his rectum but cause a painful sensation. Flexing his sex muscles though caused him another issue. His dong stood to attention. Okay, this needed strength. Maybe his bowels of steel could sort it out.

He changed into his Superman outfit (he did in the closet as there was no phone box. He had issues though as his wang was stuck up and causing problems. ) pulled down the pants and cautiously sat on the crapper again. He braced himself and then pushed. And pushed. And pushed. He forced all his strength into those muscles and could feel the pressure building up behind his anus but it was like trying to get a melon out of a dong hole. It was no good nothing was working. Maybe imagery would help. He closed his eyes and imagined trying to fly up the Empire state building carrying the crumbled World trade center on his shoulders an how much effort that required. He pushed again. Harder and harder. He gripped the seat his feet turning inwards as he crunched his toes. Then he yelled to help push harder. He could feel the shit boulder trying to force itself out of the hole that was obviously too small for it. His operatic buildup reached its crescendo as his butt hole was forced out and fell into the toilet.

His schlong also totally exploded and sent a wave of cum into his face and over everything. Now the poop of sixty beef bourguignons could be wedged out. Superman's screams went a little quieter but now he sounded like he was yodelling as the boulder inched with every contraction of muscle which caused spasming pain. He pushed through it and heard the tip of the log poop reach the water. But it was still inside him and as he pushed more, the thing kept coming in one whole piece. It was like concrete as it pushed into the ubend and got wedged there. An hour he sat in labor with it. At one point it could move no more and Clark hard to drag himself up to stand on the seat so the rest could come out (by this point he was exhausted and sighed in relief as it started to move out of him under its own weight.) by the time he was on his tiptoes... the diarrhea had begun to spew out of his hole around the sides of the huge shit bollard. It fountained out at the sides and into the pants around Superman's ankles. Down his boots. Down the log. Down his cum drenched dong. This seemed to help lube it up though as it soon slid out of him for the final time. He felt the air hit his colon and more poop engulfed the bathroom.

Superman's knees gave way and he collapsed onto the floor panting from the effort. he looked up and saw the giant turd rising up and of the bowl. He pulled himself up by the lid and saw that the pan was full of blood, love fluid and liquid shit. The turd was as wide as those logs that Scottish people throw and as long, wedged in the u-bend and curving up out of the water where it stood there like a giants boner. He had no time to contemplate the wrinkled onion ring in the toilet that was his butt rim. Lois would be home soon and he had to get this place clean. He picked up the toilet brush and the plunger and looked from them to the toilet and back to them and then the toilet. He poked the turd with it and felt no squish. He threw them aside and plunged his hand into the u-bend. The obelisk of crap felt like half dried asphalt (you know when it's fresh and you can pick it off the edge of the road.) he pushed it down in the end trying to mush it as he went. He took out a knife and cut it into chunks. Then he eyed the flush and pressed it. Water flooded the puddle of blood and diarrhea and after a gurgle the first bit seemed to flush away. He forced the second bit into the pipe with his hand and flushed. But the third piece wouldn't go. By this point the turd was still rising out of the toilet and the pan was a little emptier but the water now rose and rose. Superman cursed and forced his arm down the toilet expecting to find a blockage. He realized that his arm was stuck. He had gone too far and wedged himself in up to the elbow He stared around at the bathroom. At the shit everywhere, the skyscraper of crap and his own blood and passed out as all strength left his body.

Lois came back to find her boyfriend unconscious in a puddle of his own shit, cum and blood with his arm stuck down the john, his dong out and his head resting on what appeared to be an uber shit tower. If she thought this would be an expensive cleanup, she hadn't seen his credit card statement for the food yet.

The end.