As his plane touched down at
Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, Chris Jones had a huge knot in his stomach. It wasn’t nerves, however, that had his
stomach doing flips. Well, not entirely
nerves. The knot in his stomach was literal. For three days, Chris hadn’t taken a
shit. He wasn’t constipated, well, not
in the traditional sense of the word.
He’d been given a directive to take Imodium for three days, a medicine
typically used by people with diarrhea to help solidify “things” so that he
would be prepared for a special weekend of fetish play. He was wearing a moderately sized butt plug
as well to sort of keep everything where it should be and prevent any untimely
accidents. He was also backed-up, so to
speak, because he had been in chastity for two full weeks and not allowed to
cum.
All the erotic forces in the
Universe were aligned, working together to keep him buzzing with anticipation
and arousal. Every step he took, every
jostle of turbulence from the plane was a source of stimulation, causing the black
butt plug in his ass to rub on his prostate and keep his cock leaking. His ass was full of poop pushing its way to
come out and having all that shit impeded by a blockage that was stretching his
slutty fuckhole heightened every sensation.
His balls were obscenely full of cum and add to the mix his musings
about what would happen when he finally met the Domme of his dreams, it was the
perfect recipe for making him hornier than he’d been in a very long time, maybe
ever.
What sort of kinky sex play
requires its participants to have full bowels, you might ask? Well, the kind that can only satisfy the
cravings of a true shit pig. Chris was
just that sort of animal. He loved
shit. It was his greatest source of sexual
arousal. With two days off and two days’
vacation, he was pretty sure he was going to be in for a nasty treat or two,
three if he was really lucky. He was
meeting with Scottie Lowe, and she had promised to put him through his shitty
paces. She’d stated emphatically that nothing
involving shit was off the table. He
didn’t know what exactly what that meant but he was pretty sure it was going to
be intense, and really fucking depraved.
The intense heat of Georgia ain’t
nothing to fuck with and as soon as he stepped out of the airport, a wave of
humidity and sweltering heat hit him like nothing he had ever experienced
before. He was drenched in sweat in
seconds. If it was this hot at 10
o’clock in the morning, he thought, he didn’t even want to think about what it
would feel like at 3 in the afternoon.
Nonetheless, he’d sent her a text the second the plane touched down as
he’d been instructed to do and the reply was that she was going to have a
driver pick him up and bring him to the hotel where they were meeting. She’d texted the room number and told him to
come directly to the room.
There, at the curb, in plain
sight for everyone to see, was a driver dressed in black slacks and a white
dress shirt with a skinny, black tie straight from the eighties and a sign that
said “Asswipe” in big, bold, brown lettering.
Chris glanced nervously around to see who else might have seen the sign
and, much to his dismay and embarrassment, everyone seemed to be staring at who
was going to respond to the sign, parents shielded their children’s eyes in
disgust, and everyone seemed to be whispering and pointing. He froze, feeling the pangs of humiliation
and took a deep breath. “Ha, ha, ha,” he
said nervously, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, “My brother always calls
me . . . he’s so funny . . . I’m in town for his wedding. Aww man, it’s really hot here.”
The driver’s blond hair looked
wet and it was hard to tell if it was from product or from the insufferable heat
that was causing him to sweat. He held
the back door to the town car open and everyone seemed to go on about their
business, not caring about the sign or Chris just that quickly. “Mistress informs me that she will be needing
my services for the next four days. I’m
to take you to the hotel now and be on standby for later this evening. Will you require anything that you will need
me to pick up for you?”
Chris mumbled that he would be
fine and he sank back into the cushioned leather seat and enjoyed the air
conditioning. The drive was only about
15 minutes. He had hoped it would take
a bit longer as his nerves were making him want to head back to the airport and
go back to the safety of upstate NY where he could wallow in his depravity
alone. This was a once in a lifetime
opportunity and he knew it so as they pulled up to the front of the luxury
hotel, he swallowed hard, grabbed his bag, and headed to the 14th
floor suite as he had been directed.
He knocked softly. Within seconds, the door opened and there she
stood. Chris’ heart melted. He was in
the presence of the woman he had spent so much time talking to on the phone, fantasizing
about, the woman who knew his deepest, darkest secrets better than anyone on
earth. She was all that he had hoped for and more. She was absolutely lovely. Her cocoa brown skin glowed and her short,
curly hair framed her face and her smile was slightly intoxicating. “Hi, I’m Chris,” he began to say but he was
interrupted.
“I know, silly,” she said as she
held the door open wider and invited him in.
“Hurry, I have to take a shit and I can’t hold it a second more.”
Never in his life had Chris
expected the very first words out of Scottie’s mouth, with her sweet, seductive
voice, to say what she did in the first five seconds of their meeting. He wondered if he was up for whatever was in
store for him and he crossed the threshold of the room and pushed his bag to
the side of the doorway as it slammed behind him. Dressed in a sporty grey knit graphic t-shirt
and matching mini skirt, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the
living room section of the room where a thick plastic sheet had been laid on
the floor in anticipation of his arrival.
Quickly, he laid down on the
floor and before he knew what was happening, Scottie lifted the back of her mini
skirt, placed her feet on either side of his torso, and squatted down with her
ass inches from his face. Everything was
happening too fast. He had been in her presence
for 30 seconds, probably less than that, and she was already taking a dump on
him. Before he could even ask a question
to find out what he was supposed to do, she took a deep breath, made a small,
dainty grunt, and her asshole opened up and a torrential wave of shit came pouring
out.
Chris opened his mouth and
watched as feces came out of her asshole like a soft serve ice cream
machine. The stench of her poop was
toxic, like something had crawled inside her and died. That turned Chris on even more than he could
have possibly imagined. The crackling
sound of her shit slowed down and some light brown, soft shit clung desperately
to her asshole.
“Wow, that felt amazing. I’ve been doing this juice detox and taking
these herbal pills . . . something-something intestinal formula. I can’t remember the exact name right this
second but I can tell you that the results have been phenomenal to say the
least. It’s really cleaning me out.” She was light-hearted and casual in her conversation,
as if she was discussing the weather, not the fact that she had just done the
most intimate, personal, private thing in the world not only in front of
someone she barely knew but on him, on his face. In his wide open mouth in fact. “Oh damn, it stinks. Yecchh!
You stay right there. I need to
go get cleaned up.”
An Olympic gymnast couldn’t have
made a more perfect dismount as she swung her leg over him and stood up and
made her way to the bathroom. “Oh, and precious
boy, don’t eat any, okay? Don’t you dare
even chew! Stay exactly like that until
I come back.” And just like that, she
closed the bathroom door and left him lying there with shit all over his face, overflowing
out of his mouth onto his cheeks, fully dressed, and his butt plug creating all
sorts of erotic sensations in his ass.
He had taken off his chastity device before he left home to make it
through the metal detectors at the airport so that allowed his cock to be
engorged with blood and he was rock hard and ready to explode. Chris was positive he had never experienced
anything so humiliating in his entire life.
A woman he had just met in person had just shit on him and left him with
his face covered in an obnoxious-smelling pile of turds, all within the first
three minutes of their meeting.
Her shit was literally making his
mouth water. Saliva had formed in his
mouth and he tried to swallow it but he couldn’t without swallowing any shit so
he willed himself to remain as still as possible. If only his cock wasn’t seconds away from
shooting. He squeezed it through his
jeans to try to keep it under control but he had no such luck. He heard the water of the shower running and
he panicked knowing that he wasn’t allowed to eat the shit that he so
desperately wanted to consume and not having a clue how long he would have to
remain frozen in that position. The fact
that Scottie had definitively treated him like nothing more than a human toilet,
the realization of his wildest fantasies come true, was a bit more than he
could stand. The humiliation of the
entire scene made him start inhaling the noxious fumes of her divine shit and
he had no choice. He opened the fly of
his jeans and pulled out his cock. He
didn’t have any lube but he didn’t need any either. Precum was pouring from his piss-slit like a
fountain.
As soon as he stroked his
throbbing cock one time he knew he had made a terrible mistake. The pleasure was indescribable, too intense
for words. He had already reached the
point of no return and there was no turning back. He was huffing the fumes, and his taste buds
were overwhelmed. The image of Scottie’s
ass, the image of the shit coming out of her puckered hole, was seared forever
in his brain, the stench, not to mention the pressure in his own asshole . . .
he moaned and stroked and involuntarily started to chew. He savored the priceless delicacy, the shit
of a Black woman, like it was the world’s most expensive and rare caviar. And in many ways, it was. He had no choice but to swallow it all, every
morsel. There was no way he could stop
himself and he stroked his cock faster, pounding his meat furiously as he shot
loads of cum on his chest and torso and the final few spurts covered his
fingers.
Clearing her throat from the
bathroom door, Scottie said, “We aren’t getting off to a very good start, are
we?” She folded her arms across her
chest and didn’t have to say anything else.
Chris felt consumed with shame and regret.
His male ego wouldn’t allow him
to apologize. “I couldn’t control
myself. I’ve been fantasizing about this
since I first read your profile on Fetlife,” he stated with a considerable
amount of shit still caked in his mouth and on his teeth and all over his face.
“Ughhhh, go take a shower and get
cleaned up. You smell like a fucking toilet in a bus station. Disgusting!”
She was dressed in a fluffy hotel bathrobe this time and she stood in
the doorway of the bathroom. She
certainly didn’t seem irrational or pissed off.
Her tone seemed stern but not overly so, it was more like that of a
nurturing mother: loving but disappointed.
Chris got up and grabbed his
travel case and wheeled it to the bathroom.
He had to squeeze past her in the doorway and he didn’t dare make eye
contact. The door closed behind him and
he stood in front of the mirror and looked at the foul mess on his face, the
shit impacted between his teeth, coating his tongue. Immediately, he got hard again. He posed like a fashion model in the mirror, sticking
out his tongue and admiring at how the shit coated his teeth and gums. He turned on the shower and got
undressed. He could have easily jerked
off again, his recovery time was like a teenager when it had anything to do
with eating a Black woman’s shit. His
mind was racing, thinking about every single thing that had happened . . . in
the last ten minutes.
Emerging from the steam-filled
bathroom, Chris smelled vaguely of lavender, or citrus, or whatever those tiny
hotel soaps smell like, and the room smelled of some sort of apple cinnamon air
freshener. The dirty plastic tarp had
been replaced with another, clean one. He
didn’t dress, he simply wrapped the towel around him so that he could show off
the body he worked so diligently at keeping in shape, that he was proud to show
off, unsure of what to do next. He
tried to push his cock down to hide it but there was no use. He was still horny and there was no way to
obscure that fact so he just let his proverbial freak flag fly, at full mast.
The hotel suite certainly wasn’t
the low budget kind made infamous by people recording their amateur hot wife
porn. No, sir. This was the kind that had a small
kitchenette with a full fridge, a cooktop and dishwasher, a dining room table
for two, a desk, a pull out sleeper sofa, a coffee table that had been pushed
out of the way to make space for a play area, a chest of drawers, and a fluffy king-sized
bed with a thousand pillows that looked like it was three or four feet off the
ground, famed by two contemporary night stands.
Chris sat on the sofa in silence.
Scottie looked like a vision floating around the room with such ease in
her bare feet and bathrobe. For a
second, Chris thought that this might all be a dream, that this couldn’t
possibly be real, but it was. She asked
him about his flight and made small talk while she tinkered around in the
kitchen. At least he thought it was
small talk, he really couldn’t be sure because he was so god damn horny and
distracted she could have been telling him that she had discovered the cure for
cancer while searching for the meaning of life and he wouldn’t have heard a
word. All he could think about was the
three days’ worth of shit he was barely holding in that was desperate to come
out and when he might be able to eat more of that delicious shit of hers. At least in his mind, it registered as
delicious.
“Here, take these,” she said as
she handed him some brown-colored capsules.
He hesitated. He wanted to object
and at the very least ask what they were but he opted to keep his mouth shut
because he knew he was going to get some form of punishment for disobeying her
previous instructions. He took the
bottle of water she handed him and swallowed the pills without a word.
“Christopher!” He was snapped out of his daze when she
called his full name as she often would do on their late night phone
calls. “I can’t have a conversation with
myself. You have to say something.” On the phone it was different. He was in the comfort of his own home, he was
in familiar surroundings, he was safe.
Here, with her, he was intimidated by her physical presence and the ease
with which she had orchestrated everything that had happened thus far. To Chris, it really did seem as if he was
trying to have a conversation with Beyonce, about eating her shit of all things.
Sitting on the sofa next to him,
she pulled her leg up underneath her and turned her body towards him. He could clearly see her exposed pussy and he
wanted to fall to his knees and start licking it but he knew he would never be
allowed such an honor. Moving his eyes
upwards, he could see the outline of her breasts as the robe gaped open in the
front. She knew exactly what she was doing
by teasing him and yet she conversed with him as if it were nothing. In a short time, Chris was able to calm his
nerves and talk freely, like they had done so many times late at night on the
phone. They spoke as if they were
friends. She was just as down to earth
as she had always been and Chris marveled at how comfortable she was in her
role as a shit Domme and how she didn’t seem conflicted or tormented by her
affinity for shit play at all.
After a couple of hours of
free-flowing and effortless conversation that seemed more like mere minutes to
Chris, Scottie declared, “I’m hungry. How
about some lunch?” She got up and moved
to the bed and unzipped her bag and pulled out a little black dress. She undid her robe and let it fall to the
floor as Chris audibly gasped in awe.
She stepped into the dress and slid it up her fine, brown frame and
said, “Would you be a dear?” She turned,
indicating that she needed assistance with the zipper in the back. With no bra, and more importantly, no panties,
she signaled for Chris to finish helping her get dressed. She pulled out a pair of sexy black high
heeled shoes and slid them on and she looked like she was ready to walk a red
carpet in record time.
Chris stood and his towel
honestly accidentally fell. His cock
stuck straight out in front of him and he hesitated for a second as to whether
he should cover his nakedness or not. He
opted not to. It felt more perverted to
be fully nude and hard in front of her.
His hands trembled as he slowly zipped her dress and his cock was
millimeters from her round, full ass.
She did a sexy little twirl and asked how she looked and all he could do
was give a thumbs up.
The thought of eating didn’t
sound very appealing to Chris as he was still carrying the enormous load of
shit that had been in his guts for three full days. It hurt and turned him on at the same time. Scottie, as if reading his mind, moved behind
him and gently pushed on his shoulders so that he ended up with his face on the
bed and his ass sticking out. She
inspected his butt plug, nudging it, pulling on slightly, pushing it in deeper
causing it to displace the ton of shit in his colon that was desperate for
escape. Chris moaned. She was toying
with him and it was such a fucking turn on for him. She cautioned him to be careful and she slowly
pulled out the butt plug, causing him to moan and want to jerk his cock again
as he did his level best to keep from taking a dump all over her expensive
shoes. While the fattest part of the plug was relatively clean, the head was
covered in shit. “Hmmm, look what we
have here,” she cooed as she waved it in front of his face. His first instinct was to lick and suck it
but he knew better. She reached in her
bag and tossed him an adult diaper and told him to hurry and get dressed as she
was starving and wanted something to eat.
They rode the elevator to the
ground floor and just as he stepped out into the lobby, his stomach started
gurgling loudly. LOUDLY! Scottie giggled. “Oh, it sounds like the intestinal cleanse
pills are working on you already,” and she linked her arm in his like they were
a couple and they braved the stifling heat.
Chris hesitated; he wasn’t used to seeing interracial couples in real
life. Of course he had seen them on TV
and maybe tens of thousands of interracial couplings in porn, but in real life
he only saw a mixed race couple once every blue moon and even then, 10 times
out of 10, when he did see an interracial couple it was a Black man with a
white woman, at least in his neck of the woods.
He felt like everyone was staring at them, judging him, but this time no
one noticed or cared.
They walked a short distance to a
restaurant that was on the grounds of The Botanical Gardens. There was a wall of glass in the restaurant
that faced the florae and vegetation and the view was breathtaking, in every conceivable
way. Chris ordered a salad and picked at
it. Scottie ordered a salad as well, AND
blackened salmon, and a loaded baked potato, and the vegetable medley, and she ate
every bite of her tiramisu for dessert.
Every mouthful she took Chris fantasized about what it would taste like
after her digestive system had recycled it.
When she had finished her meal,
Chris signaled for the check and as he stood up, he was hit with crippling,
debilitating gas pains and a need to vacate his bowels immediately. “I have to go to the bathroom. NOW!”
He was quiet so the other patrons at the restaurant couldn’t hear him
but he needed to convey a sense of urgency to make sure she understood that he
only had seconds, not minutes before he made a complete mess.
“OK, sweet boy. Let’s go.”
Chris clenched his ass cheeks together as tight as he possibly could and
hobbled out behind her, clearly in discomfort.
The shade of the trees in the garden provided a bit of respite from the smoldering
heat, actually the breeze made it feel quite lovely. Scottie walked one or two steps ahead of him
and stopped on an adorable little bridge that looked like it was straight out
of a Zen fairy tale. Chris had tears in
his eyes as he joined her. She took his
arms and placed them around her and she embraced him simultaneously as she
leaned her back against the railing and she pulled him close, like she was
going to kiss him. She whispered in his
ear, “Shit for me.”
Chris didn’t need to be told
again. He couldn’t hold it back if he
tried. There, in the park, surely in
view of any passersby, he started to shit.
As badly as he had to go, he had to push and grunt and strain to get
that first huge turd out. It was massive,
hard, and thick and he could feel it between the cheeks of his ass as it pushed
its way out. It hurt coming out but
something about it hurting made it feel oh so good too. He wondered momentarily if it was as thick as
one of his larger anal dildos; it felt gigantic. The sensation as it pushed out his hole was
mind-blowing; he wished he could see what it looked like. The rest of his shit was softer and it
quickly filled up the diaper as it sought space to occupy. The shit didn’t stop. He kept shitting. The relief was out of this world. His arousal exceeded anything he had ever
experienced before. The panic and fear
that there would be too much shit for the diaper and he would shit his pants
for everyone to see paralyzed him. If it
weren’t for Scottie rubbing his back with her soft hands, pressing her sexy
body against his, whispering in his ear for him to push all that nasty shit out,
telling him what a pervert he was, he would have run away in fear and
shame. Something about her, about her
power over him made him stand there until he had filled his diaper to full
capacity.
“Good boy,” she said and she
kissed him on the cheek. He wondered
briefly how fucked up he had to be to be turned on by such depravity, in public
no less, but he couldn’t think too hard about it as he pissed and he could feel
the warm shit around his balls and covering his cock and he almost came without
touching his cock.
For as long as he could remember,
Chris had been turned on by shit. His
earliest memories of masturbating involved touching his asshole, then fingering
it, then finding household items to put in it when he jerked off. That quickly evolved
into smelling them when he took them out, and eventually licking them clean
when they had brown streaks. It wasn’t
long before he was fingering his ass before and after he shit and soon he was
shitting on a towel in his bedroom and getting down on the floor to smell it
while he would masturbate and shoot his load on the pile of shit. The need to taste his shit grew stronger and
stronger, becoming an obsession, until he graduated from just licking it to
chewing it and finally, one day when he was really horny and pulling his cock,
he swallowed a mouthful of shit and shot the hardest load of his life. From that moment on, he was hooked on
shit. Everything about shit aroused
him. He’d never mention it to lovers
because he just knew in his heart that they would think he was a monster and a
freak. He’d even deny exactly how much
he liked shit to the pro Dommes he would hire to take a dump in his mouth,
minimizing the scope and range of his fetish because at his core he was ashamed
of how much he was turned on by it. For
as much as Scottie seemed comfortable and integrated with her shit domination,
Chris was compartmentalized and disconnected from his shit submission.
The truth was, every day, Chris
Jones would get a hardon when he took a shit; the smell immediately gave him
wood every single time. Every day, when
he took a shower, he would finger his asshole repeatedly. Whenever he fucked himself with his toys, he
wanted them to come out streaked with shit so he could lick them clean and
fantasize about a real big black cock in his mouth, being “forced” to clean it
after it ravaged his asshole. He would
go to public restrooms and sit in the stalls and jerk his cock and think about
who might have taken a shit there previously, listening to see if he could hear
anyone fart and grunt and push out a big turd as he stroked his cock in silence,
praying that someone would forget to flush.
They never did.
Chris adored shit. He couldn’t even admit to himself that he
loved it as much as he did because he was so used to pretending that he was
regular and vanilla and offended by anything that society would consider
disgusting. He remembered vividly that
when the “Two Girls and a Cup” video was circulating, he pretended to be
outraged and disgusted in front of all his co-workers all the while knowing
he’d watched and jerked off to scat porn for years.
He couldn’t remember exactly when
he became obsessed with interracial sex but it was a long, long time ago. Mostly, he jerked off to porn with Black men fucking
white women. His anal obsession, rather his
anal addiction had him spending hundreds of dollars, thousands over the years,
on big black dildos, imagining himself getting fucked and pounded in his
ass-pussy like the women in porn. There
was a disconnect in his brain that allowed him to believe that the color of the
dildos he bought was inconsequential and had nothing to do with his desire to
be fucked by black men. But when he was
horny and ramming those huge fuckers in his ass, that’s exactly what he
craved. Daytime Chris was entirely
convinced that he was the only white man alive who craved interracial sex even
though the evidence was there in plain sight that it was a huge obsession for
millions and millions of white men. Nighttime
Chris wanted to be the faggot, pussy-ass, cock-sucking, shit-eating toilet for
. . . well, let’s just say the most disenfranchised portion of the African
American community (although that’s most certainly not the word he used when he
was horny).
In public, in front of his family
and friends and co-workers, Chris towed the standard racist line, adding his
obvious disgust and disdainful commentary for anyone who even hinted at Black
pride or an unwillingness to conform to conventional standards of
whiteness. He wanted all his peers to
know that he was a regular, good ole white guy so he made sure to pour it on extra
thick when there was anything in the news that talked about Black Lives Matter
so that nobody would suspect that Black Cocks Battered . . . his slutty asshole
every night of the week, twice on Sundays.
That didn’t stop him from making sure that all of his friends who came
over to watch the game knew definitively that all Black men were good for was
sports, and he would add target practice if he was particularly intoxicated and
feeling full of himself. It never once
occurred to him that his buddies all had extensive black dildo collections and
they were all espousing racist bravado to cover up their lust for big black
cocks as well.
At some point in his life, the
shit of Black women became his obsession.
His lust for Black women grew out of admiration and attraction but
certainly not respect. Even though he
couldn’t articulate it, even though he had never put the pieces together in his
own mind, he believed Blacks were inferior so that made eating a Black woman’s
shit particularly nasty, akin to eating . . . say . . . a dog’s shit, something
utterly disgusting and foul. Every time
he thought about it however his dick would get rock hard. That Pavlovian association alone was enough
for his conscious mind to reconcile that he was attracted to Black women, their
beauty, but he didn’t date Black women.
He dated white women. He wanted
to marry a white woman. OK, he wanted to
marry a white woman who got savagely fucked by big-dicked Black men but that’s
besides the point. Black women, for
Chris, were his secret fetish and their shit was his secret-secret ultimate
turn on. He’d gone to pros over the
years to satisfy his shit lust but what he really wanted was to find a Black
woman who was as turned on by using his mouth like a sewer as much as he was
eager to eat her shit every single solitary god damn day. Twice on Sundays.
Looking into her beautiful eyes,
feeling her warm, sexy body pressed against him, feeling several pounds of shit
between the cheeks of his ass and covering his cock and balls, he was pretty
sure that Scottie was just that Black woman.
She wasn’t backing away or acting horrified or expressing remorse or
regret. In fact, she was turned on by
his public shit episode and that turned Chris on even more. She was encouraging him: telling him how
proud she was of him for being so nasty, explaining to him that she was going
to take him back to the hotel room and change his diaper like the dirty little
boy he was. In that moment, something in
his brain clicked and he was in the ultimate sub space. He was a feral, dirty, nasty shit whore who
craved being debased, humiliated, degraded, and wallowing in filth like he
needed it to live.
They strolled arm in arm back to
the hotel. Outside, even though people
were passing by, Chris was distracted and horny enough to pretend that they
couldn’t smell anything, or if they did, they would never have assumed it was
him and he was dressed neatly and he had this really sexy Black woman on his
arm. That is, she was on his arm right
up until the moment that they approached the valet stand of the hotel and she dropped
his arm and walked in front of him like she didn’t even know who he was. As he entered the revolving door of the
hotel, pure adrenalin set in. He was
afraid to walk too slowly because he knew that people would be able to tell he
had shit his pants but he couldn’t walk too fast because he was sure shit was
going to fall out his pants legs. He got
to the elevator and Scottie stood there, staring straight ahead, waiting
patiently. As the next elevator arrived,
she said, “You take the next one. I’ll
meet you in the room.”
Chris could have died. This was
the most embarrassing thing he had ever experienced in his life. If only his fucking cock would go down. Chris loved humiliation and this was pushing
all his buttons. He was in the middle of
the most erotic day of his life. The
next elevator came and as luck would have it, it was empty, which was nothing
less than a miracle for the middle of the afternoon and for a hotel that was so
heavily trafficked. He was almost home
free. Home free, that is, until the
elevator door opened on the 12th floor and a maid, a small dark
skinned Black woman who looked to be in her mid-30s pushed her cart on. There was no 13th floor and she
didn’t push another button so she was going to the same floor as he was. The doors hadn’t even closed all the way
before she audibly gagged at the stench. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand
and she didn’t even try to hide her disgust.
Chris was mortified and aroused.
The maid pushed her cart out and
made a mad dash for the linen room that was directly across from the
elevator. She used her key card to open
it and he could clearly hear her say in a thick southern accent, “Oh my
God! What the hell,” before the door
closed! Chris waddled down the hallway,
trying to make sure no shit fell out and knocked on the door softly. “One minute,” Scottie responded.
It was actually more like two
minutes she made him wait this time. Two
of the longest minutes of his entire life. Involuntarily, Chris moved his hand
to the back of his pants and felt the huge load filling them. He could tell that shit was everywhere. At the other end of the hall, a door opened
and a Latino couple emerged and made their way to the elevator. Chris stared straight ahead at the door and
knocked again. He glanced in their
direction and smiled nervously and they returned the pleasantries but really
didn’t pay too much attention to him. As
the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside, he could hear the guy say, “Dios
mio, someone ripped a nasty fart in here,” and they disappeared from view.
Chris’ knock became more insistent. “Please, let me in! Please! I’m really sorry about before.”
Again, he couldn’t be too loud because he didn’t want to be overheard by guests
in the neighboring rooms but he was making his plea in pure desperation. He had stunk up the hallway and anyone who
opened their door would know definitely that he hadn’t just farted but he had
shit his pants. He was squeezing his
hard cock through his pants, cupping the huge load in the back of his pants,
and begging at the door to be let in. He
felt so out of control, so stimulated, so desperate for this level of
humiliation.
Finally, after what seemed like
an eternity, the door opened. Instantly,
all his fears were gone and he was back in supreme sub space again. Something about her sweet and innocent beauty
combined with the fact that Chris knew that she was the most depraved women
he’d ever met made him pliant and malleable to her whims.
She blocked his entry to the room
with her hand firmly against his chest.
He panicked! She pinched his
nipple, twisted it and it made him whimper and his cock drip. “Are you going to obey my commands,
Christopher?”
Chris nodded but his eyes
conveyed his true response. “Yes,
Ma’am.” He was captive to her every
desire. He would do whatever she wanted,
whatever she said, without question. He
was her shit pig, he belonged to her, his soul was hers to do with what she
pleased. Chris would follow her to the
ends of the earth if she wanted. And he
would eat every morsel of her shit along the way.
She let him in the room and he
thanked her profusely. He was talking
rapidly about the elevator ride and the maid and the couple who got on the
elevator after him when he noticed that there was another thick, plastic sheet
on the bed. Wipes, latex gloves, a basin
of soapy water, wash cloths, and baby powder were on the night stand. It was a changing station. This time he didn’t have to be told exactly
what to do, he knew exactly what he was supposed to do and he made his way to
the bed and dropped his pants. Much to
his surprise, the diaper had contained all the shit and piss but it was
stretched beyond its limits for sure. For
a brief second he speculated that if the adult diaper company figured out a way
to advertise that their product could hold the results of enormous amounts of
public pissing or pooping without any leaks or accidents they would fly off the
shelves.
Scottie, still wearing her sexy
black dress, waved her hand and signaled for him to lay down on the plastic
sheet while she put on the blue medical gloves.
Chris sat and the hard, thick turd pushed against his asshole and the
softer shit moved further up the back of the diaper. He had to wiggle around to get all the way on
the pallet of towels and he was smashing and mashing shit all over his ass in
the process. Scottie ripped open the
sides of the diaper and looked proud as she saw the volume of poop that filled
the diaper. Chris wanted to see how much
shit he’d made but instead he watched her intently as his cock bobbed up and
down with its new found freedom. She
seemed immune to the smell, like it didn’t smell offensive to her. Chris wondered if the smell of shit turned
her on as much as it did him.
“Impressive. That’s three days’ worth? Next time we’ll try for four.” Chris moaned at the thought of a next time
and huffed his own stench. “Shit jerk
for me,” she demanded, without the tiniest bit of hesitation!
Chris didn’t vacillate for a
second. He didn’t use shit as lube often
because he didn’t have the privacy that it required with his mother living with
him but he loved the feel of warm shit squishing in his fingers as he used it
to beat his meat. He held up his legs
obscenely and reached past his balls and got some of the soft shit and started
stroking his hard cock and staring directly at Scottie. Scottie pushed his legs back further.
The big, hard turd was still
amazingly in good shape. It was only
about four inches in length, well, what was left of it, but it was thick and
hard and sturdy. She picked it up and
held it to his lips. “Open,” she
demanded and Chris whimpered as he stroked his cock harder. He was going to cum. It was knobby and covered with the softer
shit but he could see the bumps and ridges of an enormous shit pacifier. He opened his mouth wide and she forced it in
his mouth. It almost didn’t fit it was
so thick. Everything was turning him on
but the most arousing part was the fact that Scottie didn’t take her eyes off
of his. She was communicating with him
without words, telling him that she loved him being such a nasty, filthy
pig. She was watching him do something
that filled him with shame and arousal.
She was seeing him at his filthiest and most disgusting state of excitement
and that . . . well, it was almost too much for his little brain to
compute.
With his mouth packed full of
shit, Chris couldn’t speak so he moaned, grunted, and whimpered. He sucked the hard turd and stroked his cock
harder. He was grinding his ass in the
filth of his full diaper and ready to explode.
But he didn’t. “Stop!” Her command was clear, concise, and there was
no questioning her intent.
It took every ounce of strength
in his body to stop stroking his cock and sucking his turd. His new-found desire to please Scottie was
stronger than his perversion so he stopped immediately. She took the turd from his mouth and threw it
in away. Scottie grabbed his wrist and
proceeded to clean the shit from his hand like a mother who had caught her son
with his hand in the cookie jar. She
instructed Chris to grab his ankles and hold his legs up, much like a porn star
getting ready to get gangbanged, and she proceeded to clean him up, using more
than a dozen soothing wipes and filling up the small waste basket with the
soiled diaper. His asshole was tender
from pushing out that monster shit and every time she touched it, it sent
chills up his spine. Her touch was
sensual and she intentionally stroked his hard dick sensually as she cleaned
him with soap and warm water.
“There you go. Now, go take a shower and get all cleaned up,
sweetie.” She took off her gloves and
threw them in the small trash can and tied the bag up as Chris made his way to
the bathroom to clean himself of the stench of shit for the second time that
day.
Once he was cleaned and dressed
again, it was again time for them to hit the city streets again. Her driver, whose name was Todd, was waiting
for them and he took them to her condo.
She invited Chris in to wait for her while she responded to a few emails
and puttered around doing what appeared to be small work related tasks. He glanced in the bedroom and noticed that it
had a large cage in the corner he assumed was for BDSM play. Either that or she had a really big fucking
dog somewhere. Feeling more comfortable, feeling relaxed in fact, Chris
posited, “I assume you do all your shit play in hotels, am I right? You don’t want your home to be a . . . well .
. . a toilet, right?”
She smiled.
Scottie excused herself and went
to the bedroom and closed the door. She
emerged a few minutes later even more stunning than she was before. The black dress had been replaced with a red
one and red patent leather heels. Her
lipstick even matched her outfit. Chris
couldn’t help but be aroused, but this time his lust was fueled by his urges as
a man to fuck an incredibly sexy woman.
He knew that wasn’t going to happen but that didn’t stop his fantasies
of pounding her pussy and making her scream and moan and call out his name as
she came all over his cock.
They continued on with their
activities. The driver took them to a
spa where Chris sat patiently as he watched her get a pedicure with her toes
painted red to match her dress. It
seemed pretty obvious to anyone who cared to observe that he was not her boyfriend
but rather a companion. Next stop was a
bakery where she ordered a birthday cake for her niece and she asked for Chris’
opinion and feedback. She referred to
him as sweet boy in front of everyone and that kept him horny and
dripping. He was buzzing with sexual
energy. This was easily the most erotic
day of his entire life and it wasn’t even dark yet.
It was dinner time and now Chris
was starving. He’d emptied out all that
shit and his stomach was ready for a meal, not a salad. As the sun set, they
dined and he had a 14 oz. steak with all the trimmings, she ate sushi, and they
both drank freely. Chris marveled at how
well they were getting along outside of a sexual context. She was so amiable, so sweet. But nothing could erase the vision of her
pulling her skirt up and taking a shit in his mouth seconds after meeting
him. He stayed hard all evening.
After dinner, as they climbed in
the back seat of the car, Scottie told Todd to take them to Insurection. From the name, Chris could tell it had
something to do with sex and he grabbed his cock to shift it and push it
down. As they pulled into the parking
lot, he saw that it was some sort of sex emporium that sold toys and DVDs. It wasn’t a dive but it wasn’t a classy joint
either and Scottie stuck out like a sore thumb.
Every head in the place turned as they walked in, the red dress that
hugged all her sexy curves being the center of attention. Chris followed her to the back of the store
and like a gentleman he pushed open a door for her that led to a back area with
video booths and glory holes. He knew
immediately that he was going to be on his knees for her.
Scottie was brazen. She found a small room and stood at the door
and told Chris to go in. She was the
guard, the sexual sentinel who would approve or disapprove of anyone who was to
go into the adjacent cubicle. She didn’t
seem uncomfortable or afraid at all. Men
gathered around but stood back. She
signaled for one particular black guy to come forward and he did. She whispered in his ear and he nodded his
agreement and entered the adjoining room.
Chris was already on his knees and ready to suck some cock when a big
black ass was presented in the large hole.
He immediately spread the ass cheeks open and saw a hairy, dark shithole. He sniffed it. It didn’t smell bad at all. It
smelled clean, freshly bathed. Just as
he was about to dive in, the door opened and Scottie squeezed in.
“Undress,” she commanded and
Chris pulled off his shirt and started undoing his pants almost before she
could get the word out of her mouth.
Nude, he was salivating and waiting for the command to lick that black
asshole in front of him. He had no idea
who it was, what they looked like. All
he knew was he wanted to suck that asshole for his Goddess. And that’s what he did. He sucked that shithole like a nasty
slut. He tried to get his tongue in
there as deep as it would go. Scottie
stroked his shoulders, rubbed his shaved head, played with his nipples. She encouraged him to eat that black asshole
like he was a starving refugee.
The guy getting his ass sucked
was clearly enjoying it and he was verbal and unapologetic about it. “Fuck yeah.
Make that nasty white boy suck my dirty shit hole. Yeah, dig in there. Suck that shit out.” That’s exactly what Chris was trying to
do. He wanted shit.
What he got was not shit but a
huge load of cum. The guy turned around
and rammed his dick through the hole and Chris dove for it as it started
spurting semen. The guy pulled up his
pants and was gone in seconds. Scottie
went out and selected another guy to repeat the same thing. This time, she fingered Chris’ asshole while
he was making a feast of the second guy’s butt.
She worked lube in his anus to make it slippery and wet while he was
licking that strange black shithole. He
slobbered and spit and sucked it good.
He was hoping for a small nugget of shit to pop out. He wanted to eat more shit and he didn’t care
that he was doing something so dangerous and filthy. He was doing it in front of this incredible
Black woman who clearly got off on his depravity. His second load of cum tasted better than the
first and he was hungry for more asshole and semen from Black men.
The third time Scottie went out
to find another participant, she returned a few minutes later only this time,
it wasn’t an asshole that was presented through the hole, it was a foot of
dick. It was massive and dark, the
largest Chris had ever seen in person.
He reached out for it to suck it and Scottie stopped him. She reached in her purse and pulled out a
small brown bottle. She opened the top
and Chris knew what to do. He put his
finger alongside his right nostril and took a deep hit. Warmth covered his entire body and all of his
inhibitions disappeared. In that moment,
he wanted to be nastier than he’d ever been in life and that was saying quite a
bit because he was really, really nasty.
He wanted to grunt like a pig to show that he was a subhuman thing. He started to get down on his knees and
Scottie stopped him. She turned him
around and made him bend over; his face inches from hers, his ass aligned with
the hole.
He felt the head penetrate him
and he moaned loud enough they could have heard him in the front of the
store. “Yeah, fuck me with that big
black cock. Use my pussy. Oh yeah, ram it up in there. Destroy my white cunt. Yes, Daddy, make me your filthy white
bitch. Harder, god damn it, harder. Rip it open.
Dump your cum in my nasty shit hole. Pound it. Pound me hard. Fuck,
fuck, fuck. I love it. I love that
beautiful dick, a real man’s cock. It
feels so fucking good. Oh shit, I’ve
never felt anything so good. Fuck the
shit out of me. Oh god, yessss, fuck the
shit out of me. I’ll get down and clean
all that nasty shit off for you to show you what a filthy shit pig I am. A white shit whore. Ohhhhh, yeah, ride my shitty asshole. Ram that big black cock up my dirty white pig
whore cunt.” That was a directive he
didn’t have to make. It was apparent
that he hadn’t emptied the entire three days’ worth of shit from his colon
because he was getting the shit fucked out of him and it was evident by the
smell in that small room.
Scottie was pleased. She was smiling and proud. She told him to get down there and worship
that beautiful Black meat with his mouth and Chris obeyed with enthusiasm. It was COVERED in shit, not just
streaks. He wrapped his lips around it
and made love to that column of Black flesh with his lips, he cleaned every
spec of shit off and pleaded with his eyes for more. She had slid her dress up and she was softly
rubbing her pussy. She was clearly
turned on and that inspired Chris to behave nastier. He backed up against the hole again and
demanded, “Ram that big black fucker deep in my guts. Make me eat off all my nasty shit. Get it covered. Let me show you how disgusting I am.” He was talking to both his partners at the
same time, communicating to them that he loved being used in unspeakable
ways.
Twice more he got pounded and then
got down to eat all the shit off that gorgeous cock. Finally, the guy on the other side of the
wall couldn’t take any more and he emptied his nuts deep, deep inside Chris. Chris hadn’t cum and he was still horny but
it was time to go. He dressed and they
made it back to the car to go back to the hotel. Todd held the door open and extended the
offer of a mint as Chris climbed in. The
fact that this white guy KNEW that he had been sucking Black dick, that he had
been eating shit was a turn on in ways he had never imagined. Chris had never told another white male about
his shit addiction. The shame, the
humiliation was such a fucking turn on.
Chris could have turned right around and gone back and sucked a dozen
more black assholes without poppers and he would have still begged for
more.
By the time they got back to the hotel
room, Chris’ underwear was full of brown tinged cum. It was late and he was exhausted. Scottie opened the bottom drawer of the
dresser to reveal the linens for the pull out sofa. She changed into a pair of pink satin shorty
pajamas and climbed in the massive bed and fell asleep immediately. Chris couldn’t sleep and he tossed and turned
for several hours, wanting more shit.
His body was accustomed to falling asleep late because of his work
schedule and he re-lived every detail from the minute he got off the plane
until now. And it was only day one.
It must have been nearly morning
before he fell asleep and he was awakened around 9 by the smell of coffee. He opened his eyes, half expecting to realize
it was all a dream. “Good morning, precious
angel. How did you sleep?” She was
sitting at the table reading the morning paper and sipping a mug of steaming hazelnut
flavored java. “Coffee always makes me
take a huge shit.”
God Damn! Is there any way this woman could be
sexier? The ease with which she talked
about shit was a constant source of arousal.
Chris crawled out of bed, folded the sheets and blankets and put them
away and made himself a cup of coffee.
He stood at the counter and she waved for him to sit down and join her. They talked about the events of the previous
day and Chris’ erection was as hard as steel.
His asshole wasn’t technically sore, it was far too experienced with big
dildos for that, but it itched and he wanted to get a finger in there and
wiggle it around. He definitely knew he
had been pounded thoroughly by a real man.
Scottie indicated that her
favorite part of the day was seeing him suck that shit covered black dick and
she marveled at how big it was and remarked that she adored seeing him worship it
with such reverence. Chris said that his
favorite part of the day, without question, was her taking a dump on his
face. He wanted to ask when she was
going to do that again but he chickened out.
“Uhhhh, looks like I have to
go.” She got up, kissed him on the top
of his head, and all Chris could see was her sexy ass as she breezed past him
on her way to the bathroom. He waited a
minute and he snuck to the door to see if he could hear anything. He wished he could be in there, watching her
shit, smelling it, licking her asshole, his tongue her toilet paper. It was pure torture knowing that she was
shitting and he wasn’t able to eat it.
His ear was pressed all the way against the door and he couldn’t hear
anything. Why he didn’t know that the
door was going to open and he was going to tumble and fall in was beyond
anyone’s guess.
Scottie stepped over him and
said, “I left you a present. You’re more
than welcome to smell it if you’d like.”
Chris crawled on his hands and knees over to the unflushed toilet and
saw his gift. It was a mound of shit, a
pile of smelly turds submerged in the cold toilet water. He placed his arms around the bowl and put
his face as close to the water as possible.
Never, not since the beginning of time, had the platitude “praying to
the porcelain god” been more appropriate.
Chris knew he had only been
instructed to smell it, not eat it, so that’s what he did. He inhaled the fumes of her shit and that’s
all he could do. He didn’t even dare
stroke his hard cock because he knew the second he did, he would be reaching in
and grabbing turds and cramming them in his mouth and shooting cum all over the
place. She cleared her throat and he
turned to see that she was naked again, only this time she was wearing a black
strapon dildo. It was relatively small,
only about 8 inches. Chris could take
much bigger. But he didn’t care. He wanted to feel it in him, feel her
pounding him.
Taking a folded towel and tossing
it on the floor, she got behind him.
“Does that smell good,” she asked?
Chris moaned. She pulled the back of his shorts down and exposed his
bottom. He could feel her fingers
pushing lube in his hole again and he wiggled his ass like a cheap
stripper. The head of the fake dick popped
in and she stopped moving. Chris,
wanting to show off some of his sluttier skills, adjusted his hips and got the
right angle and pushed his boicunt all the way back on the black dildo, causing
it to disappear all the way in his shithole in one deft movement.
It was her turn to add some sexy
commentary to the scene. “Look at your
slutty little pussy eating that big fucking black dick right up. You can’t get enough can you? Oooohh, look at that. I’m fucking the shit out of you. You’re a dirty boy, aren’t you? Look at you getting my strapon dirty.”
Chris didn’t know how much shit
was on the dildo but there was one thing he knew for sure. Scottie knew how to throw the dick as good as
any man. Her strokes were deep and hard
and her pace was just right. Her hands
gripped his hips and she was making him take that cock like the ass whore he
was. The other thing of which he was
absolutely positive was that he wanted to reach in the toilet and grab that
shit and shove it in his mouth.
He would not be allowed. Again, with Chris mere moments from shooting
a massive cum load, Scottie pulled her strapon out and flushed the toilet in
one swift movement. Chris watched as the
water swirled and the brown logs disappeared from view. He felt as if he had been deprived of a holy
sacrament, that his soul was in peril because he couldn’t eat from the throne
of his Queen. Their morning shit games
weren’t over, however, not by a long shot.
“Alright sweet boy, it’s time to
get you all cleaned out. We have a big
day ahead of us and we need to make room because who knows how many cocks you
might have in your shithole today.”
Chris moaned and squeezed his
leaking cock. She instructed him to get
on the bed in the fetal position and she was going to prepare a nice enema for
him. The truth was, Chris loved getting
enemas but it was never something he had shared with anyone. He loved the feeling of the nozzle sliding in
his ass. Well, he loved anything sliding
in his ass was more accurate but there was something about the whole private
act of cleaning himself out, of preparing to get fucked that always made him
horny. He loved the feeling of fullness
as the water bloated his belly, he adored the sensations of the cramps that
made him double over in discomfort, he even got off on the way the shit would
explode out of his asshole, the chunks and smelly liquid squirting out. He’d never told another human being in the
world that he liked enemas and now he was about to get one from this woman who
was proving to be the most amazing shit Domme he’d ever encountered in his
life, far exceeding all of his expectations and fantasies.
She decided to go with the
traditional 1 quart red bag enema with a mild peppermint soap and water solution. The first bag went it with such ease, Chris
barely even flinched. When she added the
second bag of just warm water is when things got interesting. Chris’ stomach looked like he was about four
months pregnant and she reached between his legs and massaged his tummy and
pressed on it, causing him to moan. It
was impossible to miss the fact that his cock was harder than ever and leaking
and she took advantage of it by milking him with her gloved hands and lots of
lube.
Chris couldn’t form words. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he was
squeezing with all his might trying to contain the contents of his bowels as Scottie
toyed with him. He felt his butt plug
being inserted but he wasn’t entirely sure that it would hold everything
in. He had a terrible fear that all the
shit and water would come shooting out and destroy the hotel room with sprayed poop
everywhere. He was determined to hold
that shit in as long as possible and he was going to summon whatever
super-human powers he had to in order to please his Mistress.
Just then, as luck would have it,
her cell phone rang. “Hold on, baby boy,
I’ll be right back.” It was clear from
the sound in her voice when she answered the phone that it was from someone she
cared for immensely because the tone she used when she said, “Hi, sweetie,” was
vastly different than the maternal tone she used with Chris when she called him
affectionate names. He assumed it was
her boyfriend Andre, as she had spoken about him often before and how they
couldn’t always see each other as often as they’d like because of his job as an
international pilot. Chris couldn’t hear
everything she said but he strained to hear the gist of the conversation was
how much she missed him and how much she couldn’t wait until they were reunited
again.
Chris was having problems of his
own. He had a half a gallon of water in
him, shit that was ready to explode out of his ass, and a butt plug lodged in
his butthole that was a few seconds from becoming a projectile missile. Scottie noticed his predicament and she waved
her hand and nodded and indicated that he could go relieve himself in the
bathroom while she kept talking and smiling and giggling like a teenaged
girl.
Normally, under any other
circumstances, Chris would have plopped his ass right down on that john and
reveled in every second of all that shit blasting out of his asshole, jerking
off and trying to coordinate his orgasm with the expulsion of shit. He’d fantasized countless times about Scottie
watching him take a shit, about how humiliating it would be to have her
standing over him while he made gross farting noises and he took a dump while
she stood over him. Now, all he could
think about was trying to listen to the rest of Scottie’s conversation with her
man. He made it to the commode in the
nick of time and shit came out like a volcano.
He stood up and shit specks decorated the toilet bowl even after he
flushed and he improvised and used a wash cloth to clean up the mess. Just as he thought he was done, a second wave
of cramps hit him and he had to sit back down as a smellier, pastier load of
crap came out. By the time he had
finished, he was pretty sure nothing else could possibly come out and he was
reasonably assured that he had missed the vital portions of Scottie’s phone
conversation. He jumped in the shower
and bathed and emerged smelling fresh and clean, wrapped in a towel again,
awaiting further instructions.
He most definitely felt lighter,
like only you can when you’ve taken a massive shit. Scottie appeared to be in great spirits as
well. “You, sir, are in luck
today.” She was beaming with
excitement. “My baby switched flights
with another pilot. He’s back in town
and he’s going to play with us tonight.”
Her eyes danced with electricity.
“He needs some sleep. He’s going
to call when he wakes up and he’s rested and he said he’s going to save all his
shit to feed you. Isn’t that
amazing?”
Chris could tell that she was
more excited about seeing Andre than she was about the idea of Andre feeding
him his shit. He was saddened. More accurately, he was petty and immature. This was supposed to be their long
weekend. He didn’t want anyone else
infringing on their time together. Now,
she was going to be distracted and sharing herself with another man. Chris pouted in a way that as
unmistakable.
Scottie saw his antics and put a
stop to them immediately. “Look, bitch,
you can either pull yourself together and appreciate this opportunity I’m
giving you or you can pack your shit and take an earlier flight home right
now. I’m fine with either one.” Her tone was no nonsense. There was no hint of maternal concern or
affection. She was in charge and she was
making it clear. Chris took a deep
breath and changed his demeanor because the absolute last thing on earth he
wanted to do was leave early. He wanted
to stay forever. He wanted to live off a
diet of nothing but her shit every day.
He wanted to lick strange assholes, and shit his pants in public, and
take huge enemas and do whatever other perverted and kinky things her mind
could come up with. He would do anything
for her and that included not being childish and appreciating the chance to
play more shit games with her.
She went to take a shower and
when she emerged from the bathroom, she was fully dressed and wearing a summery
floral dress and strappy sandals with bracelets up and down her arm and Chris
wondered how she could dress so fashionably from a bag that could fit in the
overhead compartment of an airplane.
First things first, they were off to breakfast. Being in Georgia, breakfast meant they were
off to a good old fashioned southern buffet with biscuits and gravy and grits
and more pork products than you could shake a stick at. Scottie ate heartily, filling her plate with
waffles and strawberries and ordering an omelet that looked like it could feed
a small Somali family. The food was
great and Chris ate until he was stuffed like a tick as they say in the south.
The next stop on their agenda was
the mall. Scottie wanted to buy a new
outfit to greet her man. Chris played
the role of her boyfriend, carrying bags and commenting when she would come out
of the fitting room. Honestly,
everything she tried on looked great so there wasn’t much else he could say
other than, “I like it.” At the shoe
store, there was male sales clerk, a white guy, and Chris could immediately
tell that he was attracted to Scottie by the way he was staring at her starry
eyed and imperceptibly caressing her leg and foot when he was helping her with
her shoes. Chris might not be able to
compete with Andre but he was going to make sure he put this guy in his place. As she roamed the store looking for different
shoes Chris started making small talk, not so subtly implying that they were a
couple in a very long term, committed loving relationship. Once a pair of shoes were selected, Chris
took them up to the counter and whipped out his credit card and paid for
them.
Scottie was amused. As they walked out of the store she said, “You
do realize that you just paid for a pair of shoes I’m going to wear for my man
in an attempt to impress a total stranger you’ll never see again, right?” When she put it like that, it sort of took
the air out of his sail. “That ego of
yours is going to get you in trouble,” she chuckled and they made their way to
the car.
They had a few more stops to make. Their first stop was a medical supply
store. Scottie moved around the store,
asking the sales girl all sorts of questions about portable commodes, testing
them out by sitting on them. The young
lady was an attractive light skinned Black woman with a thick southern accent
and she had a lot of body stuffed into a poly cotton polo shirt with the
medical supply company embroidered on the chest and a pair of royal blue
polyester pants. She offered a
suggestion, trying to be as discrete as possible, that if cooking oil spray was
used in the bucket that the contents could be flushed away and cleanup would be
minimal. Scottie thanked her for the
advice and boldly stated that the bucket wouldn’t be necessary and selected a
model that could fold up and made her way to the counter to purchase it. She commented to Chris that she thought it
was pretty remarkable that she had never owned a rim chair in all her years of
domination and the sales girl giggled uncontrollably. She looked at Chris, winked, smiled, and
didn’t take her eyes off of him. He
turned red from embarrassment.
As embarrassing as that was, he
was even more embarrassed when they were at their last stop for the day, the
drugstore. Scottie again breezed through
the aisles and asked the young man who was working there for assistance with
laxatives, fiber, suppositories, enemas and products for incontinence. Chris stood in silence, frozen with shame,
holding the hand basket that she loaded with far too many products than could
possibly be used in the next two days. She
kept using the word shit and the sales guy cringed every time she did. “Will this make him shit more? How long after he takes this will he
shit? What will be the consistency of
his shit if he takes these? So, all I do is put these in his asshole, it will
make him shit, right?” The young man
wasn’t as helpful as the previous sales person.
Finally, he said, “Lady, I don’t know.
I just work here.” Chris was
mortified. He noticed, however, that the
young man didn’t walk away, he just stood there, watching them. He did more than watch, he was staring at
Chris’ crotch. There was a very visible
wet spot on his jeans and the outline of his throbbing cock could easily be
seen. Just as Scottie was bending over
and looking at something on the bottom shelf, intentionally showing off her
assets, Chris noticed the clerk was rubbing his own boner.
Satisfied she had accomplished
her mission, after having put essentially one of every product in the aisle in
the basket, she thanked the young man and said, “Come my precious pet, we have
places to go, people to see.” They
walked to the register together and she said, “I’ll meet you in the car,” and
this time Chris was not so proud to pay for the purchases. The cashier was a white woman, mid-30s,
plain-looking, and as she took out the first few items she noticed the theme so
to speak and she turned red. She intentionally
didn’t make eye contact with Chris and handed him the three bags full of things
and said, “Thank you and be well.” It
was all he could do to the take the bags to hide his obvious erection. Never in his life had he felt like such a
puppet, manipulated and controlled by his own deviant desires.
Back at the hotel Scottie made Chris
unpack all their purchases. The maid had
cleaned the room and put everything back the way it was supposed to be so he
moved the coffee table back out of the way and set up the rim chair on another
clean, plastic tarp. It wasn’t very
difficult, all the pieces fit together without the requirement of any
tools. As he was finishing up removing
all the packaging from all the drug store purchases and putting them on display
on the coffee table, Scottie suggested that they head down to the hotel gym for
a light workout before a late lunch.
Chris threw on a pair of shorts
and a t-shirt and Scottie changed in the bathroom and came out, mimicking the
commercial on TV. In her best valley
girl voice she said, “I’m sort of in love with this splatter print because it’s
sooooo cuuuuute.” Chris shook his head
and smiled.
The workout room in the hotel was
pretty standard. They had two
treadmills, an elliptical machine, some free weights, a universal machine, and
some yoga mats. It was empty and they
had the whole room to themselves.
Scottie turned on the TV to PBS and there was a wildly liberal political
news show on that made him roll his eyes and want to puke. While she did cardio on the elliptical, Chris
used the free weights to try to impress her.
She was not. After about twenty
minutes, and after having worked up a decent sheen, not quite a full sweat, she
got down on the yoga mats. She was quite
the impressive and flexible subject, creating a striking study in downward
facing dog.
“I’m not always great at these
sorts of things but I can try. Come
here, pig.” He ran to her side like an
eager puppy. With her ass in the air,
she let out some gas. It wasn’t a silent
but deadly and it wasn’t a rip-roaring fart, it was somewhere in between. Chris moaned.
“What are you standing there for,” she asked, “get down here and smell
my ass.”
Chris dropped to his knees. He put his face in the general vicinity of
her ass. She directed him to put his
face in her ass and he complied. He put
his nose against the black and white Lycra fabric of her stretchy pants and inhaled
her fart odor. He pushed his face as far
as he could into her ass cleavage and rubbed his face up and down. He would have given every single worldly
possession he owned to pull those pants down and lick her asshole right there,
in front of the hotel security cameras.
She let out another fart and before he even knew what he was doing, he
had his hand down his shorts and he was stroking his cock.
With a vantage point that allowed
her to look between her legs, she said, “Slow your roll, there cowboy, you
might not want to get us both arrested,” and she got up and said, “Come on,
let’s get a bite to eat to hold us over until dinner. They walked to the park and found a gourmet
food truck and ordered the absolute best burrito he had ever tasted in his life. Chris was captivated. Every bite Scottie took was erotic to
him. Food was the center of their
experience, it was the source of her shit and spending time with her, watching
her, being manipulated by her, he was more aroused, more turned on than he
could have imagined possible.
Electricity was flowing through his body constantly.
Back at the hotel, he showered
and changed relatively quickly. Scottie
took her time. It seemed like she was in
the shower FOREVER while he watched TV.
She glared at him when she came out and saw the Fox News logo on the
corner of the screen and he quickly changed it to HBO to a rerun of Game of
Thrones. She held out her hand and took
the remote from him and put on the Food Network. She sat on the edge of the bed and applied
lotion to every square inch of her body.
Chris offered to help her and she politely declined.
She stood to apply lotion to the
backs of her thighs and her ass. Bending
over, she pulled the cheeks of her ass wide open and let Chris get an obstructed
view of her tight sphincter. Without
permission he moved to the end of the bed and sat quietly so he could get a
better view. She didn’t object and she
let him stare at her butthole to his heart’s content. She changed her mind and asked for his assistance
with putting lotion on her back and his hands trembled with excitement. He massaged her shoulders and arms and
caressed her tenderly. She hummed a tune
as he rubbed the scented lotion into her skin and thanked him.
“Would you be a dear and find
some porn on the pay-per-view please?
Something anal would be preferable,” as she got the bags from their
morning shopping spree and starting removing price tags. Chris pulled up the menu on the TV. He wanted, no needed some interracial action
and didn’t even ask if it was okay.
There was a “Best of” anal interracial movie available and he clicked
through all the necessary affirmations until it played. It was really just a soundtrack in the
background for him as the real live flesh and blood woman in front of him was
far more arousing than the porn.
She turned the volume up and
Chris was afraid it could be heard by the guests in the next room. Dressed in a pair of white lace panties and a
matching lace bra, she stopped to watch the action on the television for a
while. Chris studied her. Her breathing was getting labored.
“Take out your cock. No, take off your clothes.” Chris couldn’t wait to comply and he
undressed and stood there nude. She
grabbed lube from the nightstand and grabbed his stiff penis and poured it on
liberally. “Now, stroke your cock for
me.”
For the next hour, Chris stroked
his cock for her while they watched white girls getting pounded in the ass by
Black men with obscenely large dicks.
She barely said a word the entire time other than soft moaning. She watched him. She would softly caress her thighs or the
tops of her tits that overflowed from her bra, but she never touched her pussy,
she never masturbated herself. It was an
exercise in sexual sadism.
Chris moaned and stroked and he
would get to the edge and stop. He knew
he was supposed to stop. He fingered his
asshole and stroked his dripping cock.
He didn’t say anything, he just kept masturbating to please her. All he wanted to do was please her. Finally, she got up and walked over to him
and said, “OK, sweet boy, let’s get ready for dinner.” He could smell the scent of her arousal. She bent over and took her hand and lifted
his face to hers and kissed him softly on his lips, sweetly, innocently, it was
over in a second. Chris had to squeeze
his cock so hard that he was sure he was going to cause permanent damage but he
refused to cum before he was told again, he was not going to let that happen.
She finished getting dressed in
the bathroom and emerged with yet another jaw dropping wardrobe change. All the women Chris dated could be considered
cute, or pretty at best. None of them
were really head-turners. Scottie was in
a different class altogether. She was
stunning. She was wearing a white
pantsuit that looked relatively conservative from the front but as she turned,
it was backless, showing off her toned brown skin that seemed to glow. Her makeup, her accessories, and even the
shoes she wore (that he had purchased) looked so put together, so polished;
Chris knew she was out of his league.
The hotel had a bar that served
food so he freshened up a bit and they made their way downstairs. When the waiter came to take their order
Scottie informed him, “My companion won’t be eating dinner this evening. At least not from this menu.” God damn her!
Why did she have to be so fucking brazen? And why was Chris so turned on by it? The waiter seemed to be completely clueless
and took her order without raising an eyebrow.
Chris sort of felt disappointed.
He actually wanted the waiter to suspect that he was going to eat her
shit. He wondered how it was possible
that she had transformed him from being ashamed of his desires to actually
wanting people to know that he was a voracious shit eater in less than 48
hours.
Chris might not have been the
most self-aware, introspective person in the world but he knew enough to know
that he had fallen in love with Scottie.
Over the last few months of talking on the phone, over the last two days
of spending time with her, he realized that she had created him in her
likeness, into exactly what she had wanted him to become. She had become his religion.
Her food arrived and it looked
like she had ordered from the heart healthy portion of the menu. Every sort of fiber possible was on her
plate: beans and grains and vegetables adorned her plate in a colorful array of
what looked to be deliciously prepared gourmet fare. In his heart, Chris knew that her selection
meant that he would be eating her shit again and soon. As she ate Chris wondered how far she would
go and how far he would let her. His
mind drifted off to her telling him to lower his pants and shit on a plate
there in front of everyone and eat it with a fork and a knife. He knew she wouldn’t do anything that crazy but
the thought aroused him. He was lost in
his own ruminations when he was brought back to reality as Andre approached her
from behind and kissed her on the neck.
The look on Scottie’s face as she
turned to see him and almost jumped into his arms was painful to watch for
Chris. He knew he would never see that
look on her face when she looked at him.
They embraced. It wasn’t vulgar
or tacky, it was the sort of embrace you see on the news when soldiers come
home from war to their families. From
what he could ascertain they had only been apart a week less but Chris could
see the obvious affection they had for one another was genuine. Andre held out his hand and introduced
himself to Chris. Chris responded with
an extra firm handshake. Scottie was
bubbly and suggested that they all head to the room to get more
comfortable. Andre insisted that they
stay and have some more drinks and get to know one another.
As much as it pained Chris to
admit to himself, he could see why Scottie was so in love with Andre. He was intelligent, handsome, charming,
articulate, confident, well-dressed, and a really nice guy. Even though Andre knew that he was in control
in the situation, even though he knew full well that Chris was envious of him,
he wasn’t arrogant or an asshole about it; he made every effort to make Chris
feel comfortable as they talked about sports and cars and their jobs and they
all laughed and drank.
Chris had a hard time wrapping
his head around the concept that these two normal-looking people could be so kinky
and yet so regular. They weren’t like
the one-dimensional, big-lipped cartoons of Black people who looked like
gorillas with gold chains and exaggerated facial features like so many interracial
fetish internet drawings depict. They
were totally and completely in control, utterly dominant, and clearly they both
had a deviant, sexual streak in them and you would never be able to tell in a
million years from the way they looked.
In ten million years, he never thought he could meet anyone like Scottie
or Andre in real life because his fantasies of Black Dominants weren’t based on
any sort of reality, they were based on his own distorted biases when he was
horny late at night. Chris was even more
jealous than before because he knew deep in his heart that Andre would never
eat shit, that he would never want to do something so foul and disgusting and
that not only made him feel dirty and ashamed but horny as fuck. He felt like a dirty, subhuman shit pig, like
that was his place in life, like he was truly, inherently inferior. Alas, it was all a bit much for his brain to
process so he just went back to his nasty shit-eating fantasies.
It wasn’t long before the alcohol
kicked in and Chris started fantasizing about being Andre’s white bitch,
seducing him, turning him on. He
fantasized about spreading his legs and feeling Andre’s full weight on him as
he penetrated him . . . and kissing him, being kissed by those full, sensual
lips. He wanted to wrap his arms and
legs around him and hold him close and feel his cum deep inside his white pussy
as he satisfied and pleased his man like only a woman could do. He wanted Andre to make love to him. For as much as Chris hated Black men as a
general concept, for as much as he lived his public life expressing contempt
and disdain for them, he knew that he could fall in love with Andre as much as
he had fallen in love with Scottie.
Andre, sensing that everyone was
fully tipsy but not quite drunk, said, “I think it’s time to take this party
upstairs, don’t you think?” Everyone
agreed and he tossed some money on the table and they all made their way back
to the room
In the elevator, Andre grabbed
Scottie and pulled her into his arms.
His hands found their way from the small of her waist down her backside
and he gripped her full round ass. Chris
couldn’t take his eyes off the connection.
He wanted to know what it felt like to touch her like that. He wanted to be swept up in Andre’s arms like
that. As the doors to the elevator
opened, Andre said, “After you, Chris,” and held the door for him so that they
could both watch that full, round ass walk down the hall unimpeded. He whispered, “She’s sexy, right,” as he
exited and Chris could do nothing but agree?
Once in the room, Andre made
himself comfortable and flopped on the bed and reached for the remote and
started flipping channels. “So babe, what
sort of nasty shit games have you guys been up to?”
Scottie didn’t stutter or
hesitate. She gave him a full recap of
all their activities. Chris couldn’t
imagine how their relationship had evolved, how they had both revealed that
they enjoyed dominating white men who eat their shit to one another. Chris couldn’t imagine being that truthful
with another human being. Chris couldn’t
even be that honest with himself. Sure,
he’d thought about being fed from a Black man before, hundreds of times
before. He’d fantasized about it more
times than he could remember but he’d never worked up the nerve to ever follow
through with it. He was committed to
saying that he only wanted the shit of Black women, that was his narrative,
that was the lie that he had come to believe in his own mind when he was
chatting online late at night with women who teased him with promises of using
his tongue to lick their dirty buttholes after they shit. The thought of eating a Black man’s shit in
front of a Black woman, showing her that he loved shit and that he wasn’t going
to puke or pretend that he didn’t like it was inspiring him to be a ravenous
shit pig. He was going to show her he
liked chewing shit and swallowing shit and that it all turned him on. He wanted
to be their white toilet.
What is it they say? Ask, and it shall be given. Well, Chris didn’t really ask, it was more
like he was telepathically projecting that he wanted to get down and dirty and Andre
heard his call. “Chris? Do you drink piss as well as eat shit?” Chris moaned and nodded. Piss wasn’t really his thing but he knew it
was a part of being a toilet. Cocks were
definitely his thing and the thought of having a big black one in his mouth was
making him feel desperate.
Andre got up and walked over and
stood in the middle of the plastic tarp.
He unzipped his pants and pulled out his semi-hard dick. Scottie asked, “Do you want some poppers,
piggie?” Chris didn’t know what to
say. He did. He loved the feeling they gave him but he was
ashamed to say yes so he didn’t say anything, he just looked at her and waited
for her to make the choice for him. She
dug the brown bottle out of her bag and offered it to him and he inhaled deeply
several times. The high hit him
immediately and it was strong. Not only
was he willing to drink piss he wanted to be a urinal. He ditched all his clothing and got down on
his knees and opened his mouth in front of Andre. He reached out for his cock and Andre slapped
him away. It was a stinging blow to the
side of his face and Chris loved it. He
said, “I’m sorry, sir,”
Andre grabbed his dick and aimed
it at Chris’ mouth. It took a moment for
the flow to start but as soon as it did, Chris opened his mouth and started
drinking like it was a water fountain from 1960 that had a sign that said,
“Whites Only.” Piss dribbled from the
corners of his mouth as he swallowed. Andre
aimed his pissing cock at Chris’ face, his chest, at his hard cock. It was warm and smooth and the smell was
strong. Chris stroked his cock as he
whined and pleaded for more piss. He was
not long denied. Andre put his smooth,
brown, hard dick in his mouth and finished pissing. That, by no means, meant that he was finished
using his mouth. Instinctively, Chris
started sucking that meat, getting it hard and proving that he deserved the
title of cocksucker.
Fully engorged, Andre started
using Chris’ mouth like a pussy. He
seemed to take pleasure in making him gag on it, choke, making his eyes
water. Chris was insatiable. Everything that Andre was giving him, he took
it and wanted more. The “more” that he
wanted was that hot cum. Again, as was
the theme for the weekend, he was to be denied.
Andre pushed him away and Chris looked like a child who had his candy
taken from him. Andre undressed. He folded his clothes neatly and put them
away from the action in one of the drawers lest they get soiled by the nasty action. Naked, Chris marveled at Andre’s body. While he worked out, there was something
about that brown skin, the way it showed off the definition and tone of Andre’s
muscles in ways Chris’ pale white skin never could.
Chris wished he could be
Black.
Andre settled down on the sofa,
spread his legs, and said, “Come here white boy, let’s see what you can really
do.” Chris crawled. He knelt between Andre’s legs and looked up
with admiration. Andre lifted his legs
and Chris dove for his asshole like he was a competitive diver on the ten meter
springboard. Unlike the previous night,
the asshole before him wasn’t clean and fresh-smelling. It smelled musky and manly and funky and
unmistakably like shit. Chris licked it
softly. He lapped his tongue over the
wrinkled pucker and made love to it with his tongue. He pointed his tongue and stuck it inside. Andre moaned in pleasure; Chris beamed with
pride. Chris could feel the tip of a
hard turd just inside, pushing its way to come out. His eyes rolled back in his head.
Scottie was not absent amidst all
the action. She had taken off her suit
and sat on her knees on the bed intently watching all the action. There was nothing that turned her on more
than watching white men service, please, and worship Black men, specifically
HER Black man. While she loved the
psychological game of manipulating white men, she was sexually aroused by
showing them their true reflections, not as the pillars of virtue and morality
that they pretend to be, not as the bastions of superiority that they have
convinced the world that they are. She
loved taking them to that place where they are the filthy, perverted, depraved swine
they really were born to be, that place of truth that resides within them where
they crave sex in its most base and disgusting forms. Chris was born to wallow in shit and it
turned her on to watch him in his element, being a true pig, while her man, a
true King, a god, reigned over him in true superiority, the way he was meant to
do.
“Are you hungry, pig?” Andre lowered his legs and instructed Chris
to get the rim chair and put it in place.
Chris moved quickly. There wasn’t
much piss on the plastic sheeting as he had swallowed the vast majority of it
but what was there was cold and uncomfortable as he lay down and positioned
himself underneath the seat. Andre took
his seat on his throne. Scottie wanted a
closer view, well, it would probably be more accurate to say that she wanted to
be closer to the action because she couldn’t have possibly cared less about
seeing the actual defecation or the consumption going on.
Sitting across his lap, Scottie
put her arms around Andre’s neck and stared into his eyes. “You know, I’ve missed you so much. Thank you so much for doing this for me. It
means the world to me that we can share this together.”
Andre chuckled. “Are you really thanking me for taking a shit
in a white guy’s mouth? That’s
rich. What’s the proper response to
that? You’re welcome? No, wait.
My pleasure? I mean really, do
you have any idea how much it turns me on that we dominate white men together? Never in my life did I think that it was even
possible that I could find a woman like you.
You fit me perfectly in so many different ways. Politically, socially, culturally, spiritually,
and sexually we are the same. Divesting
white men of their fallacious sense of superiority together, side by side, by
exploiting their sexual perversions, even if it is just one white man at a
time, that right there is just the icing on the cake. Chocolate icing I suppose. Or would that be icing on the chocolate
cake? OK, maybe it’s chocolate icing on a
chocolate cake.”
Holding up her arm she spoke into
her pretend watch. “Siri, remind me to
order my own birthday cake,” she said without missing a beat. They both laughed, making note to add a similar
sense of humor to their list of compatible traits.
Chris was listening to their
exchange but he was more concerned with licking, sucking and devouring the hot
asshole on his mouth. He was blowing air
in that sexy asshole and sucking it back out.
Andre’s eyes communicated that he was enjoying the treatment he was
getting from below. Scottie asked, “Does
that feel good, baby? Do you like him
licking your asshole?” He swung her
around so that her back was against his chest and his big, hard dick was
rubbing on her butt. She placed her bare
feet on Chris’ stomach wiggled and started grinding her ass on Andre’s
erection. He undid the clasps on her bra
and freed her tits. “Feed him,
baby. Make him eat your shit.” All three of them moaned in a collective
chorus of arousal.
Andre was not going to do a quick
blow and go like Scottie had done. He
wanted to make sure this was a slow process.
He pushed out a little and stopped.
Chris licked the nubby end and wrapped his lips around it and began to suck
it like a shit cock. He sucked the ass
slime from all the nooks and crevices of the bumpy log. Shit juice ran out the corners of his
mouth. Running his tongue around Andre’s
asshole, he licked the juncture where flesh met turd and caused Andre to swear
like a sailor. Chris’ taste buds
experienced the flavor of his shit as bitter, slightly metallic, and
earthy. His brain registered it as pure
heaven. Andre pushed some more and his
turd filled Chris’ mouth. It was a man’s
turd for sure. Chris stroked his cock
and chewed. For the rest of his life, he
would remember this exact moment.
“I can’t take this,” Scottie
cooed and she slid her panties off and lowered her dripping wet pussy down on Andre’s
hard dick. He let out a sound that can’t
even be described with words. Her tight
hole gripped his dick and she rode him.
For whatever reason, Andre pushed, flexed, or maybe it was involuntary
but without warning he emptied everything he had inside him in Chris’ mouth all
at once. Chris stroked and chewed as he
heard the squishy sounds of their coupling, their connection inches above his
face. Her juices where coating his dick
and running down his balls. All three of
them were in a sexual fog.
They were all headed towards the
finish line and Scottie was the only one with enough self-control to stop. “Babe, fuck him for me. Make him your bitch; your slutty white faggot
whore.”
Andre would never deny his lady a
request like that. He got up and lifted
the rim seat. Chris was in a state of
euphoria, chewing turds and ready to shoot.
“Get on your knees, boy,” and Chris complied. He presented his fuck hole to be abused. Andre accepted the invitation and with only
her pussy juices as lube rammed his entire dick in Chris’ shitter in one
stroke. Chris cried out and tried to
pull away and Andre grabbed his hips and pulled him back. Chris raised up on his hands and he backed up
on that dick.
They fucked. They fucked like animals. Andre beat that pussy up. He took out every frustration, every
inhumanity he had ever been subjected to by white men on that asshole without
mercy. He banged out his anger and Chris
begged for more. He pounded out all his
aggression in 10 inch incremental strokes over and over and over again.
Chris came in his asshole, he
orgasmed like a bitch deep in his pussy.
His cock was hard and dripping and probably the only reason he didn’t
nut all over himself was because he was mesmerized looking at Scottie and deep
in his brain he knew she wouldn’t want him to cum and he was not going to
disappoint her again. So he willed his
cock not to shoot but his cunt kept throbbing.
Scottie inspired him by finger fucking her pussy and getting herself off
watching the two of them in action.
It was pretty obvious Andre saw
the same thing and he grabbed Chris’ hips and started pistoning his big, thick,
hard, ebony cock in an out of his asshole without mercy. Chris kept begging for more. He was sobbing. It was sensory overload, the culmination of a
lifetime of depraved fantasies come true.
“Oh Daddy,” Chris chanted, “breed me.
Pump me full of cum. Make me
pregnant, Daddy. Give me a baby in my
pussy. Fuck me, Daddy, fuck your nasty
white whore. Give me a black baby,
Daddy. I need it. Use my dirty white fuck hole. I need it so bad. I’ll do whatever you want, Daddy. Coat my insides with your baby juice, knock
me up. Shoot your sperm deep in my
shithole. I’m your fucking white
faggot. I belong to you. I love your fucking hard black dick in my
pussy. Use it, use me. All I’m good for is eating your stinking shit,
your nasty shit logs and pleasing your beautiful superior cock with my whore
mouth and cunt. Piss up my fucking turd
hole and I’ll shit it out and eat every drop.
Yeah, give me your cum and your piss in my white slut hole and I’ll
squat down and show you what a filthy pig whore I am and eat it all up for you. I’ll be nastier for you than anyone you’ve
ever met Daddy, just fucking pound my twat and use me, destroy my racist white
asshole. Make me pay for being
racist. Hurt me. Fuck me.
Degrade me, humiliate me. Make me
eat the shit off your cock after you fuck white men. I’ll do anything you want, be anything you
need. I worship you. I’m inferior and disgusting and I live to
please you my Divine Black Lord.” Chris
had never even thought those words before let alone uttered them and yet they
were flowing off his tongue naturally, without effort. It’s as if the words had been waiting for
this very moment to come out of him.
Both Scottie and Andre were
speechless. Every sick and twisted word
sent chills up and down Andre’s spine and he fucked Chris harder and with more
desperation. He fucked him until he
could hold back no longer and he emptied his nuts deep in Chris’
intestines.
Andre stood but his legs almost
didn’t hold him. Scottie rushed to his
side and helped him up. She helped him
to the shower where she bathed him tenderly and they curled up with one another
in bed, limbs entangled, and madly in love.
Morning came. It was still dark outside, the sun was still
sweetly slumbered, and the clock on the nightstand said 4:49. Chris was awakened by the sounds of love
making. He had no recollection of
falling asleep. He had no recollection
of making up his pull-out sofa. Everything
was sort of a blur. All he knew was that
he was in his bed, completely cleaned up, his cock was hard, as usual, and he
was witnessing Scottie and Andre in the middle of hot and sweaty fucking. Chris’ soul ached. He wanted to be inside Scottie. He wanted Andre to be inside him. They weren’t communicating with words, they
were communicating with sensual, tender kisses.
She rode him, her Afrocentric ass bouncing up and down and he drove his
dick up inside her. He grabbed her and
flipped her over and pushed her legs back and thrust every inch of his manhood
inside her. He wasn’t trying to hurt
her, it was clearly not an act of domination; he was trying to become one with
her. Chris was in excruciating
pain. He knew he would never experience
anything that beautiful, that transcendent, that loving. He knew that he didn’t deserve to feel
anything that magical.
Scottie came first and Andre
followed shortly thereafter. They
snuggled for a moment, very briefly. Andre
got up and walked over to Chris, Chris sat at the foot of the mattress. He lifted his wet, heavy cock to Chris’ lips
and he pushed it forward. Chris stuck
his tongue out and gently lapped at the limp cock. He knew not to be too rough as it was too
sensitive. He tasted the cum of his
Mistress and it tasted like rapture.
Scottie’s cream was not all that he was treated to that morning and
Chris’ mouth filled with piss. He
swallowed every drop. When Andre was
finished peeing, he quickly showered and dressed and kissed Scottie
goodbye. “I have a flight to Chicago in
a couple of hours to cover for the guy that switched with me. I should be back by tonight. I’ll call you later,” he whispered
softly. He nodded at Chris as he closed
the door softly.
Dawn made love to the early
morning sky with an orgasmic explosion of purples and golds that filtered
through the commercial venetian blinds.
Both Scottie and Chris paid the sandman his dues and they slept soundly
until nature called. Scottie used the
facilities first. Chris’ bladder was
full and he waited until he heard her flush to put his feet on the floor. He sleep-walked to the head, and they exchanged
salutations as they passed one another.
He sat and pissed. He had a
couple of cum farts and he could have easily taken a dump but he opted to wait
just in case his Goddess had other plans for it. He splashed some water on his face, brushed
his teeth and emerged from the bathroom to the smell of fresh brewed coffee and
Scottie reading the paper and sipping on some orange juice. He poured himself a cup and sat in silence
with her.
“Last night was like nothing I’ve
ever experienced before and I’ve been dominating white men for nearly 15 years.” They both took a few minutes to reflect on
the breadth and gravity of the previous evening’s exchange.
“Ma’am, do you mind if I ask what
you have in store for today? I sort of
have to go to the bathroom and I was wondering if I should wait or not,” he
asked humbly.
“Oh, by all means, go. Since this is our last full day together, I
was going to let you eat my shit. I
thought perhaps you would want it later rather than earlier so you could have
something to look forward to. I was
thinking that we might do some sight-seeing and relax and just hang out . . .
that is, unless you have something specific you have to do or you want me to
have Todd take you somewhere.”
“Oh, no, that sounds great. I’m willing to wait. I’ll do anything you want. I just want to spend time with you. And you know . . . I would love to . . . eat your shit.” Hearing the words come out of his mouth made
his cock jump. His balls were aching but
the sensation was now erotic. “Am I
going to be allowed to cum tonight also?”
She thought for a minute before
she answered. “I’m not sure. My plans were that you were not to cum until
our last night together. You decided
your agenda was more important than mine and you came in the first ten minutes
you were here. I guess we’ll just have
to play it by ear, won’t we? I’m not
going to have any coffee or colon cleanse pills, I’m not going to work out, and
I’m not going to eat volumes of fiber. I
can hold it until tonight without any problem but I guess it will have to
depend on my benevolence in the moment.”
Scottie got ready first while
Chris folded sheets and blankets and took out the tied up garbage bags to the
trash chute. Jeans, a white dress shirt,
and sneakers had never looked so good as when she came out of the
bathroom. Chris shit, showered, and
dressed.
They made their way to the hotel
bar just as they started serving lunch and Scottie had the half sandwich and
soup and Chris had a half pound burger and fries. Scottie confessed that she was still
exceedingly and excruciatingly horny from the previous night. Chris co-signed.
She texted Todd to pick them up
and he drove them to the Martin Luther King, Jr. Center. They toured his birth home, the museum, and
they visited his tomb. Scottie gave
lessons in civil rights history he had never learned in school and they saw an exhibit
of lynching pictures that were nothing less than gruesome: white people
laughing and smiling while Black people burned and hanged like it was
entertainment. Chris was quiet most of
the day. Finally, he asked, “Ma’am, is
it wrong for me to want to be raped, to be punished for what my ancestors did?
Well, not so much for my ancestors but for me being so . . . you know. I don’t think I’m KKK recruitment material or
anything but . . . well . . . you know better than me, without me having to
even tell you I guess that I’m . . . different . . . you know, when I’m not
talking to you. I mean, I wanna
change. I don’t want to be the same
person I was. I really think something
happened to change me last night, over these last three days.”
She directed him to sit
down. She placed her hand on his
thigh. “Christopher, let’s get one thing
straight first and foremost. Rape has
nothing to do with sex. More
importantly, you being raped can do nothing to make up for racist tragedies from
the recent or distant past. What you can
do is educate yourself, re-educate yourself.
You can work to grow and evolve.
I get that you are hard-wired to seek out humiliation but I think that
if you were to stop trying so hard to deny your true feelings and to be these two different people you might
feel a little less anguish. For Christ’s
sake, you absolutely must stop looking at Black people as things to get you off
and see us as human beings. Understand
that we are not inherently criminal, we are not inherently lazy or stupid. We have been oppressed and relegated as less
than humans for centuries and there are very concerted efforts to keep us poor
and uneducated. You know that. You know deep down in your heart that if we
had the same opportunities as whites, we wouldn’t be ghetto, or violent, or
unintelligent, or even disproportionately imprisoned. More importantly, you know in your soul that
whites are not inherently superior. You can’t keep holding on to that belief no
matter how much history has been distorted to make the people who have
murdered, enslaved, and stolen more than anyone else appear superior.”
She continued, “Nothing’s changed
from these pictures. The mindsets of
whites haven’t changed. You all still
rejoice when we are shot and killed in the streets exactly like these people
are doing in this dreadful images. How
many of these white men do you think lusted after Black men and women and stood
there while they were murdered and they cheered? How many white men do you think put the noose
around a Black person’s neck and had secret rendezvous with Blacks to fill
their jungle lust in secret? Don’t you
think it’s possible that all these smiling white faces standing around saw
Black people as beneath them, the exact same way you do? I know you want to think that you wouldn’t do
the same thing today as was in these pictures but if you go back home and call
Black people niggers and then go home and jerk off to interracial porn, then I
know for a fact that you would do the exact same thing as they did. You would put a noose around my neck, you
would pour gasoline on me, you would set me on fire to prove to your buddies
that you are aligned with their racist beliefs.
Once you address your inherent racism, I think you’ll feel a lot better.”
Chris felt sick to his
stomach. He came to Atlanta to play shit
games, not have his life turned upside down.
He lay on the stone bench next to the reflecting pool that surrounded
Martin Luther King’s resting site and put his head in her lap. She softly caressed his head and
shoulders. He felt like crying. He didn’t want to argue with her, he didn’t
want to deny what she said. He wanted to
stop hurting. He wanted her truth to
stop hitting so close to home.
“Ma’am, can I ask another
question? Why have you been so nice to
me? I mean, you have treated me with respect
every step of the way. You, better than anyone, know what I am, I mean you know
what I do.”
“Christopher, am I superior to
you?” He nodded without raising his head
from her lap. “I don’t need to yell and
scream to prove that. Nothing you say or
do can change who I am. I can’t control
what you do when you leave Atlanta. You
can go home and live your life exactly the way you have been and that is
entirely up to you. What I can do is
feed you my shit and watch you wallowing in it while I tell you how dirty and
disgusting you are. And perhaps, just
maybe you won’t see it as something nasty because I’m Black and you think my
race is inferior but you’ll consider it an honor and a privilege because you
know that I’m truly superior in every possible way.”
There were tourists all
around. There was a bus of Japanese
tourists taking pictures with their phones, there was what looked like a congregation
of a Black church or maybe a nursing home there with elderly Black people all
wearing their Sunday finest, and there was a white couple sitting on the stone
bench not four or five feet away. Chris
sat up. He was emotionally drained. “Scottie,” he said, using her real name
because he didn’t want to objectify her, he didn’t want to fetishize her into
some caricature who was supposed to fulfill his wishes and fantasies, he wanted
to address her like a human being. “I
want nothing more than to eat your shit tonight. It’s why I flew all the way here. If you’ll let me, I’ll do it to prove to you
not that I’m worthless or perverted but to show you the reverence and respect
you deserve, to show you that I am in awe of you, to show you that having a part
of you inside me makes me a better person.”
The couple next to them could
have easily heard every word he said if they were nosey. Chris didn’t care. His ONLY concern in that moment was showing
his devotion to the woman who had transformed him. He didn’t have any plans on wearing a t-shirt
that said, “I Eat Shit,” but there was also something inside him that accepted
that he was always going to be deviant and his desires were always going to be
outside the norm and he was okay with that.
He had found a way to feel content feeling inferior. He was free at last, free at last.
The irony that he had his grand
epiphany in the presence of the spirit of the man who pioneered the Black Lives
Matter movement was not lost on either of them.
Scottie grabbed his hand. “Come on.
Let’s go have some fun.”
Chris assumed that they were
going to go back to the hotel to play more shit games. They didn’t.
Scottie and Chris went on a tour of the dirty south and took in all the
sights and attractions Atlanta had to offer.
They tasted every possible flavor of soda that The World of Coca-Cola
offered, they bought some scalped tickets to a Braves game and cheered and ate
hot dogs . . . for three full innings until they got bored, and they learned
more information about the Western Lowland Gorilla than any person should know
at the Atlanta Zoo. They even frolicked
like carefree kids in the fountains at Centennial Olympic Park, playing air
guitar to all the patriotic songs, and finally ate dinner at The CNN Center.
Their play wasn’t entirely
platonic. On Atlanta’s Skyview Ferris
Wheel, as it paused to give all the riders a view from the top, Scottie took
Chris’ cock out and gently stroked it using the bottom of his t-shirt as cover
from prying eyes and, more importantly, cameras. The second her soft hand wrapped around his
shaft, he thought he was going to explode.
She wasn’t really jerking him off as much as she was massaging him,
caressing his hardness. If there was an award for sensually-sadistic
Domme of the decade, Scottie was the winner.
Uncontested! As they admired the
colors that dusk masterfully painted on the Atlanta skyline, Scottie tested
every ounce of Chris’ fortitude not to shoot his load.
Finally, she took mercy on
him. “What do you say we go back to the
hotel?
Back in the room, Scottie had
Chris set it up again for more play. He
laid down the last plastic sheet and set up the rim chair. She placed a call and he heard her say,
“Yeah, I’m not going to be able to hold it much longer. Yeah, a half hour sounds good.”
When she hung up the phone she
told Chris, “I’m going to need some time.
How about you be a dear and run downstairs and have a drink or work out
or . . . I really don’t care. Thirty
minutes should be fine. Here’s a
key. No need to knock when you come
back.”
Chris took the key and was headed
to the bar for a drink. As the elevator
doors opened, Todd stepped off carrying several bags and bumped directly into
Chris. Chris inquired, “Oh, hey
man. I thought you would be on your way
to pick up Andre. What’s up? Are we going out again? I thought . . .”
Todd chuckled. “I’m not driving tonight.” The look on his face was smug and he winked
at Chris as he told him he would see him later.
The doors to the elevator closed
as Chris stood there confused. He sat
at the bar and nursed a beer, filled with nerves and anticipation and
speculating how the events of the evening would unfold. In a thirty minute window, he checked his phone
four times to make sure he would be on time and every passing millisecond
seemed like an eternity. On the way back
up, the elevator wasn’t empty this time, it was full in fact and it made three
stops before reaching its destination of the 14th floor for
Chris. He was two minutes late as he
slid the key card into the lock. He was
prepared to face discipline for being tardy as he opened the door.
The lights were out, the light
from the television was the only thing that illuminated the room. Scottie sat on her throne, the rim chair, and
smiled sweetly. It never failed, every
single time Chris saw that smile, he melted.
He was so used to Dommes who acted outraged and offended and angry at
the tiniest little things. Scottie’s
power was that she could control and manipulate without even raising her
voice.
It only took a few seconds for
his eyes to adjust to the darkened room to see that his worst fears had been
realized. Beneath her, prone, was Todd
and he was licking and tongue-fucking Scottie’s asshole like a man starved for
her butthole delights. Scottie was
visibly aroused. She was naked. Her legs straddled Todd, allowing Chris a
clear sightline of her spread pussy lips.
Chris could see that her breathing was labored. Her hands caressed her body sensually,
teasing him. The evidence of her
pleasure was written all over her face as she rubbed and playfully pinched her
hardened nipples. Chris would have done
anything to suck them. They looked like
they could cut glass they were so hard and they were the easily the size of the
tip of his pinky finger. She was purring
like a kitten and she knew Chris’ lust, jealousy, and envy was going to consume
him like the flames of a towering inferno.
The grunts and groans of porn
playing in the background acted as a soundtrack. As if in a trance, Chris undressed, leaving
his clothes in a pile in the middle of the floor. Todd was naked, his cock, protruding, red,
hard, and twitching, bounced against his abs.
Chris marveled at his body, knowing immediately without having to even
ask that Todd kept his body in peak physical condition to serve his Divine
Mistress and make her proud. Scottie
took her foot and rubbed it on Todd’s stomach, her perfectly pedicured red toes
lightly grazing his cock. He moaned and
tried to drive his tongue deeper and deeper in his Goddess’ asshole.
Unbeknownst to Chris, Todd had
only recently been allowed the pleasure of tasting Scottie’s private
treasures. For years, he served as her
submissive but only in the capacity of white faggot cocksucker and bitch. He was skilled and trained in the art of
pleasing Black men with his mouth and cunt.
Andre and Scottie agreed that for his years of dedicated service to her,
that him pleasing her would not be off the table but the occasions would be few
and far between. Todd was in a euphoric
state, his tongue was sore but he would not stop. His only mission in life was to please his
Mistress. He had studied her reactions
for years; he knew from watching her with her lovers the sounds she made when
she was pleased and the way her body moved when she was about to orgasm. He knew all too well the pain that Chris was
feeling in that moment: seeing the woman of his dreams and fantasies being pleasured
by another man and he knew it was unfathomable torture/pleasure.
Scottie knew all too well exactly
how excruciatingly painful it was for Chris and she played it up. She closed her eyes and threw her head back
and slid her fingers between the folds of her fat, wet pussy lips. Even in the darkened light he could clearly
see the beautiful, bright pink inner folds of her exotic flower, its petals
opened to reveal her engorged, hard clit that she teased with her
fingertip. Chris was hyperventilating.
He fell to his knees and put his
face next to Todd’s. Todd looked at him
as if to say, “It’s better than you can ever imagine,” and went back to his
ass-licking duties.
“Oh fuck, I can’t hold it any
more. That feels too fucking good. I’m going to shit.”
Chris panicked. His eyes were darting around in his
head. He felt like he was going to
faint. He couldn’t form words so he just
whimpered and moaned.
Scottie stood up and moved the
chair out of the way. She squatted over
Todd and positioned herself so that her ass was directly above his hard cock
and she was facing him. Chris got
between his legs. He wanted a front row
seat to what was going to happen.
Pulling her ass cheeks apart, exposing her brown, wrinkled, hairless
pucker, she passed gas; it was a squeaky little fart. His cock leaked on the plastic. She pushed.
This time, her shit didn’t come out in a fast and furious cascade. This time, she took her time. She let gravity do most of the work after the
initial first inch or so came out. Chris
could see it clearly and he was fixated on it.
He drooled like some sort of heavily medicated trauma patient. She didn’t want to pinch it off, she wanted
her shit log to remain intact so she concentrated on pulling her ass cheeks
apart and delivering the a pile of shit that was like a piece of art.
Her aim was dead on. Every bit of her shit landed on Todd’s cock
and belly. It had a much different aroma
this time, not nearly as toxic as her previous load. She released a little piss as she finished
and her hole closed up with barely any signs that she had just produced a
perfectly-formed mound of brown, smooth shit.
She grabbed a roll of toilet paper from the coffee table and wiped her
ass.
“Would you like a taste,” she
asked and Chris’ heart started beating out of his chest. The Chris of three days ago would have rammed
that Charmin in his mouth so fast it would have broken the sound barrier. This Chris, this altered and transformed
Chris, this new and improved Chris wanted to savor it, wanted to appreciate it
and show it reverence. He put the brown
stained paper to his nose and inhaled.
He loved how perverted he felt licking toilet paper. In his mind, that was even more fucked up than
just eating shit.
Todd was watching the entire
scene, taking it all in. Scottie got up on the bed and sat back and propped
herself up on the pillows. “Chris
darling, I want you to eat my shit. Eat
it all up. Eat every morsel of it. After you devour my shit then I want you to
devour Todd’s cock, suck it like you’ve never sucked a cock before. If you do a really good job, I’ll let you
cum.”
If Scottie had proposed the exact
same option to him just three days earlier, he would have reacted almost
violently. His fantasies didn’t involve
another white man in the mix. But now,
he knew that this extended weekend was never about what he wanted, it was never
about his desires or fantasies or fetishes.
Chris knew that it was a privilege and an honor to be allowed to eat her
shit, that thousands and thousands of white men wanted to be in his shoes, that
countless white submissives would kill to just lick her shit. The old Chris would have whined and
complained that he didn’t want to eat it from Todd’s cock, that he only wanted
to eat directly from her shithole. Even
though he had sucked countless white cocks before, he would have pretended to
be outraged and offended by the concept, holding on to the false pretense that
he was really straight and he only did forced bi stuff for Dommes even though
she knew that wasn’t the case at all.
For old Chris, it didn’t matter.
He was invested in “the lie”. And
the lie was that he was a white man and therefor his proverbial shit didn’t
stink. The lie was how he deluded
himself into thinking he was really superior.
The centered and grounded Chris
wanted her shit any way he could get it and he was extremely turned on by the
idea of being watched while he sucked cock and ate shit from a white man’s
body. Something about that was more
arousing than eating directly from a Black man’s asshole. It was almost as if he now believed that
white men were truly inferior and that made his willingness to perform with one
in front of Scottie that much more depraved and filthy. His cock leaked.
Chris leaned down and inhaled the
pungent aroma. He opened his mouth and
took a bit of the softer shit, the shit that had come out last. Making himself comfortable, he got settled
between Todd’s legs and started feasting.
He grunted like a pig, involuntarily.
Todd encouraged him. “Yeah, eat
that shit. Eat it.” Chris chewed shit, he swallowed shit, he went
back for more and he couldn’t get enough.
When the biggest pieces had been consumed, he took up his task of
sucking cock. He grabbed Todd’s cock and
shit jerked him for a minute or two and then deep-throated it. Todd fucked his mouth and Scottie finger
fucked her pussy from across the room as she watched her two toys playing such dirty
games.
“I want to see you two fuck,”
Scottie demanded in a sweaty, throaty voice that indicated that she was close
to cumming. Chris didn’t wait for instructions. He grabbed Todd’s shitty cock and sat on
it. He was getting fucked with Scottie’s
shit as lube. Todd rammed his cock as
hard as he could into Chris, trying to throw him off like a bucking
bronco. Chris held on and pulled Todd’s
nipple and leaned down and shit kissed him.
They swapped tongues and brown, stinky saliva.
Todd didn’t eat shit, it wasn’t
really his kink, but he was mature enough to know that when you get fucked in
the ass, shit happens. He’d licked ass,
both clean and dirty, in his service to his Mistress and he, on occasion would
get so hot, in times like this, that he would throw caution to the wind and get
caught up in the moment. When he was
horny, when he was turned on like crazy, when his cock controlled his brain,
the smell of shit wasn’t offensive to him, it didn’t make him gag or want to
puke. The taste always seemed more like
mud than anything, or at least what he thought mud would taste like, and not nearly
as bad as he thought it would be.
Chris, on the other hand was an
experienced shit eater and he craved the taste of shit in his mouth. It registered as pleasure the second he took
a bite, his balls tingled the minute he swallowed shit. Everything about shit was erotic to him. The fact that this majestic woman, this
Goddess had gifted him with her shit that was now inside him, that he was going
to shit out tomorrow, it was almost too much arousal for him to take.
Todd could sense that Chris was
about to cum and he moaned, “Stoooop. Eat
my shitty fuckhole.” He would have much
preferred to have Andre’s cock in his ass but Chris’ tongue would have to suffice
for the moment. He would have loved to
have gotten fucked by Andre in front of Chris in fact, showing off his slutty
skills, making Chris green with jealousy, being a total bottom white fucking
faggot bitch who was proud to show off his love of not only Black cock, but the
powerful sexy man it was attached to.
Perhaps some other time, if Chris didn’t run away, like most white subs
do after they have been mentally and psychologically fucked by Mistress Scottie
Lowe, maybe Todd could show Chris how he catered, pampered, worshiped, and
served his gorgeous Black Master. He
wanted Chris to know, he wanted the world to know that he was nothing more than
Andre’s pussy bitchboi who lived to satisfy his every nasty desire. Maybe in the future he and Chris could get
gangbanged together, taking on a room full of Black men with huge, hard, hung
cocks ready to batter their shitholes and dump load after load of potent Black
sperm in their desperate white sissy cunts.
He didn’t really have time to think about it. He was too concerned with getting on his
knees and putting his face down and his ass up and presenting his horny hole
like he was a rutting bitch in heat, desperate for his Mistress to watch. He wanted her approval. They both did.
Chris got down and ate Todd’s
asshole. He spit in it and pulled it
open to see inside. He could taste slimy
ass juice. There was no real shit but it
tasted good anyway. Chris dined on that
asshole like it was a meal at five star restaurant. Todd pushed and served up a giant helping of
man fart and Chris wanted seconds. His
head was spinning.
Finally, Todd could take no more
and he needed to cum. Chris was a total
bottom, he had no desire to fuck anyone so it was his turn to assume the
position. He got on his knees with his
face down and looked over his shoulder and stated in no uncertain terms, “FUCK
ME!” Todd was more than willing to
oblige. He wasn’t a top necessarily but
he certainly knew his way around an asshole.
He got behind Chris and took careful aim. He lined up the head of his cock with Chris’
hole and pushed it in and let him get accustomed to it before proceeding
further.
Chris was in deep shit, but this
time it wasn’t literal, it was figurative.
He was going to cum. With just
the head of Todd’s dick in his tight hole . . . He could tell he wasn’t going
to be able to last very long at all. He worked
his boicunt like a $1000 a night whore, squeezing that sphincter like he was
trying to rip Todd’s cock off. He was
shaking, bouncing, and gyrating his ass like he had seen so many Black women do
in videos. Well, at least he tried his
best. If he was going to cum, he was
going to make sure Todd did too; he wasn’t going to be the only one to pop his
cork. Todd could tell immediately that he was in an
experience hole and he started ramming it, fucking it deep and hard and long
and replicating the strokes of the countless Black men he had watched in
porn. Well, at least he tried his
best.
Scottie decided it was time to
add her own commentary to inspire Chris.
She looked down on him from the bed and asked the most poignant question
she could. “Who’s inferior now, bitch?”
Chris looked at her and he felt
shame and humiliation like he’d never felt before. She spoke directly to him. “That’s right, bitch. Who’s fucking inferior now? You are nothing more than a repugnant, vile,
repulsive Caucasian pig, wallowing in shit where you belong. You fucking disgust me. You walk around, arrogant and racist, with
your smug belief that white men are inherently better. All the while you know that you are nothing
more than a revolting piece of shit who fucking gets off on eating shit. What sort of fucking nasty pervert gets off
on eating shit? I LOVE seeing white men
in their truest forms: obscene, perverted, and depraved with no morality or
conscience. It makes my pussy wet to see
white men wallowing in filth and begging for more, like the true fucking
sub-human scum you really are. You’re
God damn right Black people are superior to you, you fucking twisted, sick
fuck. All you are good for is eating my
stinking turds. That’s all you’ll ever
be good for, white trash! I will reign
over you, own you, control you, because I am a Divine Ebony Queen, truly,
infinitely, inherently superior, I am the beautiful Black bitch of your worst
fucking nightmares. Fucking filthy white
faggot bitch. Choke on my fucking shit you swine.”
Somewhere in the middle of her
eloquent and articulate diatribe, Chris started cumming. He was cumming from a place he had never felt
before. He was cumming from his abused
asspussy, deep inside. He was shooting
semen from his cock that seemed endless and life-altering. And . . . he was cumming in his soul. He was consumed with bliss. A feeling of euphoria, of release, of
pleasure he didn’t even know existed overwhelmed him as he stared into her eyes
and he knew that every word she was saying was the absolute truth.
The morning of the fourth day, he
awoke one final time in Scottie’s presence.
She was fully dressed and her bags were packed, sitting by the door, and
she was sipping coffee and reading the paper.
“Good morning, sleepy head. You
look like you had a rough night.” She
smiled and got up and offered to help him with his bed. He declined the offer and dumped all the
sheets on the floor for the maid to gather when she cleaned the room. He made his way to the bathroom and stopped
and stared in the mirror, amazed again that he didn’t remember bathing, he
didn’t remember anything after ejaculating not just cum from his cock but ejaculating
a portion of his identity from deep inside is very being. He could feel his bowels telling him that it
was time to go but instead he took his butt plug and sucked it and got it nice
and wet before he inserted it in his well-used asshole.
“Oh, I packed all of our
drugstore purchases up for you to take home with you,” Scottie yelled through
the door.
“Thank you,” he said quietly as
he came out. “Oh, and would it be
possible for me to get a few of those intestinal cleanse pills also or is that
too much to ask?”
“It’s already done my sweet
boy.” Her affectionate tone caught him
off-guard.
“Ma’am can I ask you a
question? Those things you said last
night. Did you mean them or were you
just saying them to be . . . ?”
She cut him off before he could
finish. “Christopher, I meant every
word. You are inferior to me.” Chris could have dropped to her feet and
kissed them. There was something
reassuring about the fact that she looked down on him with disgust.
Chris and Scottie said their
goodbyes at the front of the hotel. She
was as gracious and charming as ever and anyone witnessing their parting would
have easily mistaken them as lovers. Todd
brought the car around to pick her up and he held her soft, dainty hand as he
helped her into the back seat. He winked
at Chris and nodded, communicating with just a gesture that things would never
be the same for him again.
Chris had to fend for himself and
take a taxi to the airport. Before he
boarded, he headed straight for the gift shop.
“Excuse me,” he asked the salesclerk, “can you tell me where I might
find the Imodium? I’m having some . . . tummy
troubles.”
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