Dark - Day One

Dark - Day One

by Mudcub

stories@mudcub.com

My master had told me explicitly what to wear in an email. A white cotton t-shirt that didn't have any slogans on it. Tennis shoes, and white socks. A pair of blue jeans. And a diaper underneath that. I was wearing a butt plug in a harness - one that I had purchased especially for this occasion. Nothing else should be on my body, he added... and no spare clothing in my car. He said he'd check, and I'd be severely punished for breaking any of his rules. What I was wearing when I came in was what I'd be wearing on the drive home Monday morning.

I wasn't supposed to touch myself at all that whole week. "An excited slave is an attentive slave," he always said. This was the hardest of the rules not to break, since I usually jack off several times a day. I ended up filling my Monday to Friday with overtime and extra hours of work, and then a hard workout at the gym until I was exhausted. I stayed off the computer except to check email, but still, it was very hard not to jack off even once.

I was supposed to eat big meals every night and a big breakfast every morning. That was essential. Lunch could be a protein shake, but I wasn't supposed to take a shit from Wednesday until the Friday night I would drive to his house and begin my service. Again, this was difficult since I usually crap every morning. It was especially hard Friday morning with three days of saved up shit, and all day long at work I couldn't stop think about my ass and how my I needed to go to the bathroom.

All of this was by design of course. I was going to serve as a shit slave for an entire weekend. Master and I had discussed the details for almost a month now. I told him the kinkiest desires I'd ever imagined, and we talked about what was possible. We agreed that I would eat his shit and drink his piss for an entire weekend. I'd have no other food. It was going to be an experiment to see how well the human body can survive on another man's waste products. That part really excited me, along with hints of some of the S & M and bondage stuff that my Master was going to do to me. He gave me some hints of things he would do, but left out a lot of details, "To keep you surprised," he said. That part was the thing that made me nervous.

So, I didn't do a good job at work at all on Friday. Between the load in my ass and my fantasies, I couldn't concentrate - at least not on work. Worse, I work sitting down most of the day, so I was bouncing my chair until 5 when I could go home. I grabbed my stuff at 4:46, and drove straight home as fast as I could.

I wish I could have gone from work to Master's house, since he lived close to my office. However, he was very adamant in his emails about not carrying anything unnecessary in my car or on my person. I raced home, and cleaned out my car of any extra gym clothes. Then I got into the strange t-shirt-and-diaper-and-jeans outfit. During this quick change, I really had a problem. I think my ass realized that I was home, and maybe now that things were going to happen soon, I was starting to relax. All of a sudden, I really had to crap. And I still had the rather large buttplug to put in.

I went into the bathroom and realized there was no way the butt plug was going to fit in my crap-filled ass. Sill I greased up the plug and tried to slide it in a little bit. My guts ached, and I could feel my shit being forced back up my ass. A little bit tried to squeeze out, but I rammed the butt plug up there a little harder. I was eager to get on the road and start the scene. With some effort, I got the plug in, and I strapped the harness under my legs and around my waist. There was no way the plug could shoot out and (hopefully) I could keep the diaper clean until I got to Master's house. The extra fullness of the plug really pushed all the shit back up me, and I felt like I had to crap worse than before. However, the feeling was kind of exciting too, and my dick suddenly got hard as I reseated the plug in my ass. I took all the nerve I had not to play with my dick and to concentrate on getting ready for the evening.

I often buy diapers... hell, it's a fetish of mine. The pair I chose to wear tonight was made by Molincare and was incredibly padded. It's the heaviest diaper I own, and when it's on, it feels like there's already a huge load in your pants. It was a struggle to get it all taped on and to pull my jeans on over it. Worse, during all this time, I grew a big hardon. I so much wanted to start jacking off right then and there, but hell, I'd made five days straight and I wasn't going to blow it now. Luckily, I chosen some of the baggiest jeans I own, but in the bathroom mirror, I still looked like I had something under my pants.

I ran out the door of my house, sweating profusely. I drove back across town as fast as I could. At one point, I looked down at my speedometer and I was going 90. I instantly realized how embarrassing it would be to be pulled over in the clothes I was wearing, much less brought into the station house. The idea gave me another boner just thinking about it. Unfortunately, I also started to get stomach cramps, as my shit started pushing back against the intruding butt plug. Every five minutes, I'd double up slightly as my asshole clenched around the plug. I turned the radio on to distract myself, but then the cramps started coming every four minutes, and then three. I wasn't sure I was going to make it to my Master's house before I crapped my diaper right there in the car, butt plug or no.

After what seemed like an eternity, I arrived at a small bungalow on the east side. I mentally checked my appearance to make sure I hadn't broken any of the rules. I parked my car and got out. As his email stated, I left my car keys and wallet on the driver's side seat and left the car door unlocked. There was nothing else in my pockets. Since I usually carry a lot of stuff - change and a cell phone, for starters - this made me feel really weird. I think it was that point when I started to get second thoughts.

What did I think I was doing? I knew Master J only from email conversations and a JPG he sent me once. Maybe it wasn't even him in that photo. What if the guy was a total psycho, or really beat me up? I'd eaten shit before, but not a heck of a lot, and not for a whole weekend. It's hard to find guys to play with, and I'd eaten shit from only five guys in my life. And none of them were hardcore tops like my Master. It was going to be an interesting weekend.

With not a little bit of trepidation, I rang the doorbell. I heard a bell ringing inside the house, but nobody came to the door. "Great," I thought, "I drove all the way for nothing." I waited for someone to come to the door. By this time I really had to crap again... maybe the difference between sitting down in the car and standing up was making all the shit want to come out. In any case, I was hopping a little bit from foot to foot in front of the door, like a little boy who had to go to the bathroom.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door opened - just a crack. I didn't hear anybody walk up to the door, so my Master was probably waiting there the whole time, looking at me doing my little dance. Inside the house was pitch black. I started to move forward and push the door open a little more, but I heard a voice from inside growl, "No, shithead!" I stopped and looked up, but I still couldn't see anybody inside. "Get down on your knees and crawl inside!"

I was a little nervous to get down on my hands and knees on the front porch. I mean, the porch light was pretty bright and anybody in the neighborhood could see me. But I was eager to get the evening started, so I dropped down onto the floor like a dog. That really sent a jolt through my ass, and I could feel the plug and the shit all lodged up in there. I waited for the door to open a little wider, but it didn't. So, I cautiously crawled forward, and "nosed" the door open with my head, again looking a lot like a dog. I was worried the door would slam closed on my head, but this my have been what my Master wanted, since he was standing inside the door waiting for me.

I didn't dare look up into my Master's eyes, but instead looked down at the floor at his boots. I put my hands behind my back. I think they were shaking a little bit. Wasn't that what slaveboys were supposed to do? My mind raced, and I couldn't remember all the "rules" of leather sex or what I supposed to do. So, after I crawled through the door, I just sat back on my haunches, looking at the ground. I hoped that was ok. My heart was racing, and I was hoping I wouldn't screw anything up. I was overly excited thinking about all the things my Master would do to me, and I think I was panting a little.

My master let me cool down for a minute. He walked behind me and closed the door, then walked around me, looking at me sitting there on the floor with a butt plug in my ass. He appraised me like a rancher looking at cattle. He just walked around and around me in a circle. And although I was nervous when he walked behind me - would he hit me on the head? Kick me? But it was somehow kind of soothing. My heart rate dropped to a more relaxing pitch, and I settled down. It was like I knew I was being taken care of already. I would be instructed and trained, punished when I did something wrong, and rewarded if I did good. There's a kind of nirvana to being a slave. It's not a lot of hard work just to follow orders, even if there are sometime ordeals or endure. I felt like I was looking down at myself from out of my own body. There I was: a slaveboy on his knees wearing a diaper - exactly where he wanted to be and doing what he wanted to do.

As I said, I didn't dare look up at my Master. But I'd seen photos of him on the Internet before, so I knew what to expect - that dark chest hair, that fierce mustache, those deep black eyes. I think I could see him wearing a leather hat out of the corner of my eye, but I could definitely see his tall black boots and jeans every time he circled in front of me. Those jeans were trashed and were more brown than blue, with big brown stains on the front (mud? shit?) and some kind of oil or grease all over them. Master said in an email that he rode motorcycles, but it looked like the motorcycles rode him. But it was still very dark in the room, and I couldn't see much.

But even more than looking at my Master, I could smell him. The whole house seemed to be infused with his presence. It smelled like body odor, piss, shit, and god knows what else. I closed my eyes (it was so dark, it didn't matter), and just inhaled. Every time my Master walked in front of me, he stirred up new odors. I thought I could smell his crotch and his armpits as his walked around. I relaxed, almost as if in meditation, and just breathed through my nose. It was a heady, masculine smell, and my dick started stirring in my diaper and I thought of earning the right to get closer to that wonderful male odor.

My master stopped at a position directly behind me, and touched my hair, mussing it up like patting a dog's head.

"I'm glad yer here boy," he said. "We're gonna have a lot of fun."

My Master has a great low, booming voice. Not a trace of a lisp, with a slight cigar-smoking growl.

"Or at least I am," he chuckled. He walked around me in a circle, constantly touching me. His hand circled around my hair, my face, my neck. He was wearing black leather gloves - the kind that cops wear. Whenever his hand moved across my nose, I could smell leather and some kind of oil.

"It's bin a long time to git ya here, boy." He kept circling. Whenever his back was turned, I cheated a little and took a glance upward. Yup, those photos on the internet didn't do him justice. The guy was six foot four if he was an inch, and covered in hair. He was wearing a dirty "wife-beater" t-shirt that might have been white at one time, but was now a dingy grey. Or make that a dingy BROWN, since there were unidentifiable stains all on the sides and chest, as if something had dripped down his chin, staining his chest.

"It's like ya bin teasin' me, boy." My master's hand dropped lower now. As he walked around me, he touched my shoulders and my back. At the word "teasing" he pinched my left nipple, HARD. I wanted to shout out, but it wasn't really painful, just a surprise. I had a feeling that a lot more nipple torture was in store before the weekend was up, and I hoped I was ready for it.

Oh my god, my master's chest. Huge masses of black chest hair poked over the top of his t-shirt. It's like the hair didn't stop... from his pecs to his chin there was a huge wave of curly hair. And there was hair everywhere else, too. On his left shoulder was a tattoo - of a celtic symbol, I think. The pattern was too covered with hair to make it out in the dim light. And the hair wrapped around to cover his shoulders and pool around his armpits too, in a thick black mass. I longed to lick out those armpits, and hoped he'd give me a chance to before my time was up.

"But first, some rules." He stopped patting my head, and batted it to one side, playfully. Not like a punch, but still hard enough to make me tip over a little bit before I caught myself. My Master walked around in front of me, but I still didn't dare look up.

"First of all, I own you until Monday mornin'. From this moment on, you will do whatever I tell you to do, as quickly as possible. If you don't want to do somethin', or you're not havin' fun, I will tie you up and put you into the closet for the rest of the weekend." He moved his head a little closer to my face, and I could smell his breath, like cigar smoke and something else. "But you will stay here until Monday."

He stood up and chuckled a little bit, "So, you might as well do what I tell you to do."

"You will eat my shit. You will eat it right outta my ass, on a plate, or however else I want you to do it. I bin savin' up shit fer ya all week, an' I may have some other things yer gonna eat too." He chuckled again softly to himself -remembering one of the surprises he had in store for me this weekend.

He raised his hand above his head, stretching a little bit, still smiling. "And I've got about four days a' shit up inside me boy, so we might as well get started."

He stepped close to me, touching my back with his knees an upper thighs. I shuddered. My hands were behind my back, but I could feel his jeans with the back of my hand... and they felt wet, as if he had just been caught out in the rain or something.

"Have you shit since the last time I talked to you?"

"No sir"

"What day whazzit?"

I thought back. "Wednesday?" I whispered.

Master kneed me in the back, pushing me forward with a nudge. I fell off my stance and fell onto my hands.

"WEDNESDAY?" he yelled. "Wuz that MAYBE Wednesday. Or Wednesday, SIR?"

"Wednesday, sir," I corrected myself, "At about one o'clock."

My master took my chin in his big meaty fist and lifted my head up to look him in the eye. "And how many days wuz that?"

Fuck, I thought. Math. I wanted to get the answer right. "Two," I said.

My master paused for a minute, so I added, "I have two-and-a-half days of shit up my ass."

"That's right," he said. His hand caressed my mouth. I opened my lips slightly, and he stuck a thumb inside, the way you might grab a fish. "Are you wearin' a diaper?"

I knew that he could see the diaper from where he was standing, since the top of it poked out over my jeans, but I answered anyway. Well, as good as I could with a thumb in my mouth.

"Yeth, thir."

"Yes sir, WHAT," he bellowed, inches from my face. He pulled his thumb out roughly, bruising my cheek a little.

"Um," I stammered, "yes, sir I'm wearing a diaper."

He came right up to me, face to face. "'N WHY are ya wearin' a diaper, boy?"

I thought quickly, "Because you told me to?"

That answer got my a hard slap to the face. It really stung. I stammered, "Uh, Sir. because I'm your shit slave, Sir."

"That's a better answer," he growled. Fuck. this guy meant business. He stepped away from me and turned his back.

"Yeah boy. yer gonna SERVE me this weekend," he said. "Do whatever I tells ya. Yes gonna eat a whole lotta shit, boy."

His voice lowered to a whisper, "An if ya puke it up... well." he chuckled.

"You ever eat dog shit, boy?" he asked

I wasn't sure if it was a rhetorical question. I guess it was, because he continued, "Horse shit? Cow shit?"

Man my dick was getting hard in those diapers. Why was this turning me on so much? It was really nasty. But I couldn't hide my excitement from my hardening dick.

"Open yer mouth," he growled.

I turned my face upward and obediently opened my mouth, like a baby bird. Master J leaned over me, and put one finger against his right nostril. With a loud wheeze, he blew his nose right into my waiting mouth. I've tasted snot before, so it wasn't very bad, even though it was a pretty big booger that flew onto my tongue.

"Chew onnit," he said.

I closed my mouth and tasted the salty mess. It was gooey, but there was a little crunch, like part of it was dried or something. The flavor wasn't bad, but I started to feel really embarrassed. So far, I had kept my cool. Kneeling in front of a guy is demeaning, but this was something else. I realized what I was: a human toilet. I was to serve as a receptacle for all of his waste products, and there was nothing I could do about it. Less than human - more like a hole.

He said, "Open up agin," and I did. This time he blew the right nostril, and a bigger load came out. I started to chew, but he suddenly said, "No, don't swaller it... jes roll it around yer mouth fer a while." I looked up at him for a second, but immediately looked down at the floor again. Ok, that's weird, I thought, but I did it. I knelt there on the floor of a stranger's living room, my hands behind my back, wearing a diaper, a butt plug up my ass, sucking on somebody's snot. It felt odd having a big loogie rolling around my tongue. I found that I started salivating - maybe I liked it. But the booger didn't really dissolve, it felt like rubber cement on my tongue.

I played with it for a while, and didn't see what my master was doing behind me. From somewhere, he suddenly produced a leather mitt and put in right in front of my face. It was the kind of padded leather fist mitts that I love. Personally, I don't really feel like a slave until I have some mitts on. The mitt not only covers up my hand, and makes me look like a dog, but it prevents me from using my hands. It makes me realize that I can no longer do the things that a human being with an opposable thumb would do: untie knots or open a lock. Fist mitts make me feel like an animal, and these were great mitts, with all sorts of D-rings and buckles on them. I knew that once they were on me, I wouldn't be getting out of them of a long time. Little did I know how true that would be.

Master J pushed the open hole of the mitt into my face. "Smell 'em," he barked. Now, I was a little confused here. I thought they would smell like leather, and maybe a little like the hand sweat of the last slave that wore them. However, with my nose buried deep inside the mitt, I took a big breath.

SHIT!

You could have seen my eyes open up really wide. I bet I sprouted a huge boner at that instant, too. So, perhaps that was where the shit stink in the room was coming from. That, or the shit that was probably rubbed into my master's jeans or something. There was a turd or two in the mitt... hell, it smelled like a huge load in there. I was surprised at my Master's creativity. I was contemplating what this all meant, when he ordered me again.

"Putcher hands out in front of ya."

I put my hands out level, and my master slid the first glove onto my right hand. Now, I don't know if I can describe the feeling of sinking my hand into a leather mitt full of shit. It was cold, and clay-like, as if it was an old turd. I bet my Master scooped it in there the night before. My fingers sunk in first, and then I had to make a fist as the mitts went on and balled up my hand inside the enclosure. It was a slightly unpleasant feeling, and as my hand went in, and an ungodly stink arose. A well-sized goosh of shit oozed out the sides of the mitt around my wrist. My master didn't seem to mind, and proceeded to buckle the mitt tightly. It took about a minute, with my hand propped up against his chest, shit oozing all over my forearm and a little bit onto my hairy chest. I was sure I had to lick it off later.

When the buckling was done, my master put a silver lock on the closure. Even if I could undo the buckle with my teeth, there was no way I could remove the lock, and the mitt was too tight around my wrist to pull it off, even with the lubrication from the shit to help it. My master barked, "Next arm," and I put my left had up to his chest. He smiled down at me, "You wanna smell this one too?" he asked, and pushed the mitt into my face. This time, I not only smelled shit, but I felt the end of a turd hit my nose. My master saw this and laughed, "Now you look like yer marked!" He did it again, pushing my face into the end of the mitts again, harder this time. I felt my nose sink into the shit, and some of it went up my left nostril. I felt like I was going to smother... that, or I was going to accidentally inhale some of the shit, when suddenly he pulled the glove off my face again.

I wheezed a little bit and my eyes watered, but I found that if I blew out really hard, I could breathe again. However, my nose was covered in shit, and a little bit got on my mustache. Now everything smelled like shit, with so much of it right under my nose. I doubted I would be able to smell anything else for a while. In the meantime while I was trying to breathe, my master had grabbed my left arm, and was making quick work of putting on the other glove. The same procedure again: a sickening feeling of oozing shit, and a minute to buckle everything tight. My hands felt really heavy, heavier than they usually feel like in mitts. I imagined that there was at least a pound of shit in the gloved. It felt like those weights that athletic clubs have for people to work out with. I felt like I had a turd in each hand, and I squeezed my fists together a little bit to feel the shit move between my fingers. I kinda liked it - but then again I'm really a pervert for shit.

While I was testing out the mitts, my master walked right up to me and put his crotch in my face. "Hands behind yer back, asshole!" he said. I checked myself, and got into position, and looked up to see this huge bulge in front of my mouth.

As I said, my master's jeans were filthy. There were stains in all sort of colors and the jeans were really worn on the pockets and hems. But I put my face right into his package and inhaled. Mostly, he smelled like piss. I wondered if he often took leaks with his jeans still on. It sure smelled like he did. I licked the front cautiously. It tasted salty. My master must have seen me tentatively lick, because the next thing I knew, he took one big meaty paw and smashed the back of my head right into his crotch.

I took this as a warning, and started to lick furiously, making love to his jeans. I was still drooling a lot, so I got as much spit on the front of his levis and I could. Soon, the whole front of 'em were soaked. This only brought the pissy smell out stronger. I must have been doing a good job, because I could feel his dick getting harder through his jeans. Damn! The thing went almost down his leg. I concentrated on licking the shaft of it, up and down, up and down.

I wasn't sure if he had had enough, or if he though I did, but he stepped back a step and felt himself. He shifted his growing dick, and unbuttoned the top button of his jeans. He stepped forward again, and I tried to pull the zipped of his jeans down with my teeth. My nose was buried in his lower stomach, and I could smell something different now, like musk or sweat. I struggled with the fly of his jeans for a minute, trying to turn my head to the side and grab the zipper better. I kept losing it, so eventually he put a fist down there, batted my head away, and pulled his jeans down himself.

I was eager to know what kind of underwear Master J was wearing. A jock strap? I love a jock in a really dirty jock. However, as I was drooling on his jeans earlier, it didn't feel like a jock. So, nothing then? I hoped not... I don't like guys who don't wear underwear. It gives you nothing to suck on later... it's hard to lick shit out of the seams of levis. I know, I've tried. Well, I wasn't really surprised when my master's jeans hit his boots, and I could see the shadow of a hard dick growing through a pair of filthy boxer shorts.

I think the boxer shorts must have been white at some time, but they were yellow and a cloudy grey by now. I bet they had never been washed, and smelled worse. There were crusty stains on the front of them - the fabric was hard around the fly. My spit had soaked through the jeans, and the front of the boxers were slightly damp. I longed to plunge my nose into the fly... I could see a mass of dark hair in the low light of the living room, and I could see the long shaft pulling at the fabric, pointing down the left leg of his shorts. I wanted to pull his dick out with my hands, but with mitts on, I knew I'd have to use my mouth.

Well, no better time to get started. I was getting really horny how, and I plunged face first into his groin, licking and sucking madly. I think my master enjoyed the devotion, since he got harder and harder and put his head back. His hand grabbed the back of my head, and occasionally, he would smash my face harder into his stiffening cock so I couldn't really breathe very well. I took a break (and deep breath) but licking down the inside of his legs, and I noticed his dick got really hard at this, to the point that it bounced up and shot through the fly of his boxer shorts.

Even in the darkness, I could get a good look at it. It was about ten inches, but still uncut. Even half-hard as it was, the foreskin was still pulled tightly over the head. I longed to lick inside it, and feel my tongue around the head. Then I looked a little closer. Was his dick tattooed? I didn't know, but it looked like there were dark splotches on it. Then put my face closer to it and figured it out. Shit... there was smears of shit on his dick. Whether his or somebody else's I didn't know, but it looked like he had fucked somebody and put his dick back wet. For some reason, this turned me on even more, and I opened my mouth to suck.

Now, I'm not the world's best cocksucker, but I like what I do. I swallowed his dick in one motion, and my master went "Oh" with pleasure. I bet his toes curled inside those big black boots. It's a pretty long dick, and it went down my throat past my tonsils. I'm always proud of the fact that I can swallow anything without gagging. I didn't know I'd have that talent tested later in the weekend. For now, I buried my nose into his dark black public hair, and worked my throat muscles to milk his cock. My master let out another groan to let me know I hit the spot.

I slowly withdraw his dick from my mouth, keeping as much suction on it as I could. I knew that this felt really good, like feeling your dick wrapped in velvet. I guess that's what I had become: a pussy, just a sloppy fuckhole for my master.

Just at that moment, my master let out a loud fart. Oh fuck, I could smell it instantly. It was the kind of fart that filled up a roo, The kind that makes you almost sick. Fuck, what did this guy EAT?

My master must have seen the face I made, because he let out a small laugh. I started sucking again quickly to avoid any punishment from slacking my duties. He crouched a bit, bending a little at his knees, and then let off another two farts in succession. Now he was trying to do it on purpose! These smelled worse than the first ones, if that was possible.

I had to breathe through my nose since my mouth was filled with his dick.As a result, I had to smell everything coming out of his ass. My eyes started to water from the stink/ But after a few minutes of steady sucking, I started to get used to it.

Then, the guy squatted down and let out another fart. But this one was a wet one - I didn't think he was expecting it, but I heard the unmistakable sound, and then REALLY smelled shit. Fuck! My master stood right up again, either surprised at his accident, or maybe he was trying to smear the shit all over his ass. In any case, the blowjob kept on as if nothing had happened, though I couldn't stop thinking of the mess that awaited me later that night when I had to clean up.

The final time he pulled out of my mouth, there was a long trail of pre-cum hanging between his dick and my lips, like a rainbow. Maybe it was phlegm from the throat mucus he had dredged up. I thought that he could maybe shoot if he wanted to, and maybe he realized it too, because he stopped right then and there. With his boxers still on, and his jeans around his ankles, he shuffled backwards, and plopped down on a sofa that was conveniently behind him. I sat there on my knees for a minute, tears still trickling a little down my face, and tried to regain my breath. Then I saw my master kick one of his giant boots into my face and say, "Lick 'em".

Now, I'm not as good at licking boots as I am at sucking dick, but I gave it a go. I started with the edge, licking all around the side of the sole. That part wasn't dirty at all, maybe just a little dusty. My toungue got a little dry, but nothing bad. It was when I ran my tongue that I tasted something. Fuck! I don't know if my master had been trodding around in horseshit or what, but my tobgue instantly tasted somthing bitter. Plus the roughness of the tread, and I almost pulled back in revulsion.

There were bits of brown. mud or something in the treads. And as my tongue wet them down, they came off in my mouth. Damn, that really tasted rancid. It was like eating a bowlful of dirt. At least I hoped it was dirt. In any case, my mouth soon tasted like a desert of powdered shit. I switched up to the leather on the side of his ankle and licked there for a while. It wasn't as dirty, though my tongue soon tasted like show polish, and I bet it was turning brown.

After a few minutes of getting his boot all spit-soaked, he had me stop. "Take 'em off," he said.

I could see my master's woolen socks poking over the top of his boots.

Ok, I grabbed a firm hold of his left boot and tugged. I guess the tug wasn't hard enough, because my master gave me a sharp kick that almost sent me sprawling. Then with another tug, it came free.

Whew! The minute it came free I could smell the stink. I don't know how long my master had been wearing those boots, but they stunk. I wasn't sure what smelled worse, the boots or his socks, but I think the odor was coming from the leather.

I think my master saw me make a face at the stink, because he said, "Sniff 'em boy. Stick yer face down into 'em."

Man I wasn't sure I could. But since I was kneeling anyway, I put my hand down to my knees, and stuck my face in the boot like a dog. My face was buried in darkness as the boot covered most of my face like a gasmask. How big were this guy's calves anyways? When I found the courage, I took a breath.

. and almost passed out. Unless you are a boot freak like I am, I can't describe the smell. Like rotting leaves, or maybe a pig farm on a hot summer day. I don't know. But I swear I got more high of sniffing those boots than I've ever gotten off of pot. I don't know how long I knelt there sniffing, but a kick to the side of my head brought me out of my reverie.

"Keep goin' shithead," he barked. So, I pulled off the other boot. The smell in the room doubled, if not more. I tried to breathe out my mouth subtly, so my master would see me cheating.

I was looking down at the time, making sure the two boots were lined up properly on the floor next to me, when I felt something furry press into my face. I turned to my master, and saw that he had on red woolen socks. I could see this clearly, because one sock was mashing into my lips. Without a barked order this time, I knew what to do.

I opened my mouth and my master shoved his foot way in. It hit the back of my throat. I smelled wet wool, like the stink of a dog. But I tasted rank fuzz. If my tongue was sore form the boot licking, this made it worse. My mouth suddenly filled with spit, soaking the toe. I was gagging, and valiantly tried to suck the toes as best as I could.

My master pulled his foot out, then jammed it back in. He did it a few times, fucking my face with his smelly sock. I could feel it rub harshly against the sides of my mouth. Then finally he pulled it out and gave me another command, "Pull 'em off".

Suck 'em, pull 'em off, lick 'em, it was like I wasn't even human, but just a robot forced to do his bidding. I just followed orders without thinking. I bit down on the toe of the sock, careful not to bite his toes though. I didn't want to know what the punishment would have been for that infraction. I dropped the sock from my mouth like a dog, and but off the other one, too. That way, he was naked except for his undershirt and boxer shorts. I love a man looking like that. And my master was looking pretty hot at the moment.

Well, now I knew where the rancid foot stink was coming from. My god, it looked like the guy had never washed his feet before. There was some kind of cheese between the toes, and the nails were yellow and long. But I didn't have very long to examine my master's feet when one of them went right in my mouth just like the sock did.

The foot tasted awful, you bet it did. But I've discovered something when serving as raunch slave. If you clean something up quickly, it doesn't stink so bad. This works for uncut dicks as well as raunchy buttholes. It's best not to think about it. just lick as fast as you can and choke down whatever comes off on your tongue.

And there was a lot coming off. That was the hardest part - the texture, not necessarily the taste, though that was horrible too. But the little pieces of fuzz or wax or something that hit my tongue with a bitter aftertaste. It was all I could do to concentrate on the job, sucking each toe in my mouth and cleaning them off one at a time.

I used my front teeth to dig under the nails, and that was tough. Then, I ran my tongue all down my master's sole and up his ankle. He twitched at the tickling feeling when I did that. Then I sucked the other foot. The whole thing took about thirty minutes to do a good job. And I do a very good job. But after a while, my asshole started acting up and reminded me that it needed some relief. I think it was the kneeling position I was in, but I had to go all of as sudden.

"Wait a minute," he grunted softly, and lifted himself off the sofa with one hand. I could see his dick, soft now, dripping snot into his boxers. But it was still long enough to stick out of the fly. My master moaned a little bit, as if he was waking up, and stepped towards me again pulling his dick all the way out of his boxer shorts. "Wait a minute," he said again, but I didn't know what he meant. I mean, I wasn't going anywhere.

His dick once again went into my mouth - it was at the right level and just seemed natural. But when I tried to suck it into my throat, he pushed back on my forehead roughly and yelled, "I said wait!" I still didn't know what was up, but just felt my master's dick getting a little hard and filling my mouth.

Then the piss started. I guess I should have expected that. It didn't even start as a trickle, just a hot blast that went down my throat. I didn't even have time to taste it, but I could feel its warm stickiness. Then, more followed, and my cheeks ballooned outward, filling with piss.

Now, there's an art to drinking piss. The whole goal is not to spill any. But it also needs work on the part of the master, too. He has to control his flow so as not to overwhelm his boy. I could tell my master wasn't caring about any of that - he just let it rip. I decided it wouldn't be too big of a deal if I slobbered some, so I just tried to concentrate on swallowing as fast as I could. Piss went everywhere: down my chin, soaking the front of my t-shirt, drenching his boxer shorts, and making a puddle on the floor below me.

Piss is warm, but when it's in your mouth it feels ever hotter. I don't know why. It's like strong salty tea, and trust me, it's a lot better fresh from the tap that sitting around in a glass for a while getting cold. One time, another master even chilled a glass of it in the refrigerator for me. That was a nasty experience, and I could barely choke it down. On the contrary, it was kind of nice to drink my master's piss. All the boot licking and toe sucking had given me a dry mouth, and besides, with all the sweating I had been doing, I could use some fluids and some salt.

Eventually, the flow stopped, and I instantly started sucking on my master's dick again, pumping my head to that familiar rhythm. I think he liked it, because he started fucking my face again. But like last time, just when I'd gotten him hard, he stepped back - this time to pull his boxer shorts down. Since I was kneeling, my master's crotch was right at face level. Plus, I was trying not to look up into my master's eyes too much. So when he pulled down his dirty boxer shorts all the way and his dick and balls flopped out, they looked like the entire world to me, I was concentrating that hard. They looked huge, and I was happy I finally got to se them. My master has huge balls, and they are covered with so much black fur that it's hard to tell where they start and stop. In fact, his whole crotch was a mass of public hair... a dark carpet that went up his belly, across his thighs, and down to his asshole. Damn, this was a hairy man!

He stepped forward again, and I started sucking. I thought the third time was the charm, and that I could get him to shoot that time. While I was blowing his, he played with his nipples, pulling on them, and turning them this way and that. I know my master loves his nipples played with, and I hoped he'd give me the chance later in the weekend to play with them. He started arching his back to thrust deeper into my mouth, and I sped up my rhythm a little bit, trying to coax him into an orgasm.

But right when I thought I was taking him into "the home stretch", he reached his right paw behind him, and into his ass. I knew his was playing with himself, sticking a finger up his own asshole, because his back was bent to the side. This went on for a few seconds, and then he straightened up. Surprised at the change of motion, I stopped sucking, and let his dick pull out of my mouth. When I looked up at my master, he was looking down at me and grinning. "Open yer mouth."

I did it, but I guess it wasn't what he wanted, because there was another command, "Stick out yer tongue." I did what he told me, and felt a little foolish kneeling there with my tongue stuck out like a dog. Slowly, he brought his finger forward and wiped it on my tongue. Yeah, it was shitty. But I couldn't really taste it from a swipe. I think I got a sniff as it went past my nose, so it was more of a smell that a taste. But when I drew my tongue back into my mouth, and gave it a few smacks, I could taste it then.

I don't know if you've ever tasted shit, but it's a unique flavor. It's bitter, sure, but every turd is distinct. Some are sour, some sweet. Even without knowing whether it was soft or hard up his ass, I knew that there was some rank bitter shit up my master's ass for me to eat. I mean, if I could taste it with one swipe, I'm sure a whole log would be really rancid. But I dutifully swallowed, and stuck my tongue out again.

In the meantime, my master was fishing around in his ass again. "Yeah," he muttered, "ya like that don't ya."

I nodded, and started to get horny again. Yeah, I liked it. I loved it. It's what I was here for. And while kneeling there, I developed a craving for his shit and wanted more.

He brought another finger up, and I could see in the dim light that it was covered with brown. But instead of wiping it on my waiting tongue, he quickly brought it up to my left nostril and stuck it in there. "Yeah," he said, "can you smell that boy?"

I closed by eyes to enjoy the moment more and inhaled as deep. That is, as deep as I could with one finger up my nose. It smelled like shit, sure, but it also smelled like him: a dark musky aroma like horses and leather. Shit has a real man's smell, and it reminds me of cowboys with manure on their boots, or plumbers and sewermen that have to work knee-deep in the stuff. He withdrew his finger, and my nose was clogged up a little with shit, but I could breathe through it. Every time I inhaled, I got a wonderful shit stink. I hoped it wouldn't go away - I wanted him to pack my sinuses full of the stuff so it would be all I could breathe. I could smell my shit from the mess that was still oozing from my fist mitts, but this was different. This was directly from his ass. And since I worshiped the guy, it was natural that I worshiped his shit, too.

"Look up," he said, and I opened my eyes to obey. He was looking into my eyes, his mouth above mine. I thought he was going to kiss me, but I saw a balloon of spit start to form from his lips. I knew what to do, and opened my mouth to accept his spit. I knew I'd be drinking a lot of it this weekend, and might as well start as soon as possible. He let a long lunger drop into my mouth, and I greedily sucked it up. It didn't taste like much, mostly like my own spit, but it had the same slick quality that his snot did. While I was swallowing, he coughed and hacked up another one. I opened my mouth, and he spit that one in, too. It was a bigger one, and part of it went into my mouth, but most of it fell onto my check and mustache. I almost made a move to wipe it off, but thought better. I didn't want to get punished this early in the game.

This routine lasted a few minutes. He just looked into my eyes, and waited for his mouth to fill with spit. Then he'd drool it into my waiting mouth. Over and over. Occasionally, he'd hock up a bigger load if he felt he had the mucus in his throat. Then, he stopped and stood up. He went over to his jeans balled up on the floor and got something out of his pocket. "Open up and chew," he said, and popped something in my mouth.

It was a pill, or rather, a handful of pills. For a second, I wondered what it was. Acid? LSD? We had talked briefly about drug use in an email exchange, and I said I didn't take drugs and wanted to be as coherent as possible for the weekend, so no drinking either. Maybe it was a Spanish fly? I don't know anything that would make me more horny than I felt right then, but as I chewed up the tablets I fantasized about some new miracle drug that would take control over me and turn me into a ravenous shit eating pig. Then, I tasted a strange chocolate flavor and realized what it was: Ex-lax. Or some sort of other laxative. Maybe there were other pills mixed in there, I didn't know. But it left a nasty chalky taste in my mouth that I wish would go away. However, I didn't need to worry about not having something to wash the pills down with. My master saw me swallow, and spit into my mouth again - three or four more times. It was nice of him.

The whole time he was feeding me his spit, my master said nothing. He was just looking into my eyes. I think I know what he was looking for - he was checking to see if I was ready for the next step. I was definitely horny by then, and my hard dick was drooling pre-cum, trying to poke over the top of my diaper. Saying nothing, he just turned around and presented me his asshole. It was dark in there, either from the shit that escaped earlier during his farting, or maybe just from the hair around his asshole.

Now, I told you the guy was hairy, and there was no better example of this than his ass. The crack of his ass was so hairy, that in the darkness, I couldn't see his asshole at first. So, I leaned forward and just buried my face into his butt. All I felt was hair, but it felt a lot different than his public hair on his crotch did. I smelled different, too. Stronger and muskier. Like butt sweat or an old jock strap. And I could smell shit, too. I'm sure his didn't wipe at all after his last dump four days ago - he likes doing things like that. But it wasn't an overwhelming shit smell... that would come later.

My master helped me out by leaning forward and spreading his ass cheeks with both hands. Now my tongue landed directly on his hole. With a little licking, I moved the ass hair away, and had a clear entry to lick around his hole and clean it up. Man this excited me, and I felt my dick stir for the second time that night. I dropped my paws down onto the floor and just rammed my face into his ass, licking like a maniac. I wanted his ass to be as wet as I had got the front of his boxer shorts earlier.

As I said, there wasn't much shit around my master's asshole, just a fragrant greasiness. So, I started to poke my tongue as far into his hole as I could. Man his hole was tight. It's hard work trying to make your tongue into a hard rod, but I stuck it out as far as I could and pressed in. Suddenly, I figured out why he was so tight: he was packed with shit. Just a centimeter beyond his asshole, I felt the tip of a hard turd with my tongue. It must be the one he stuck his finger into earlier. However, now that I had opened his sphincter a little, the turd started to move and come out. I knew what was coming next.

I wanted this moment to last forever... the feeling that I was just about to eat another man's shit. I was about to become a toilet, a human sewer. I was going to become what most people fear most - a slave, less than human. It's one thing to read about this moment, and it's another thing to actually do it. There's a line to be crossed, and even though I was really horny for my master's shit, there was another part of my mind that screamed, "Don't do it!" However, I was more afraid of what my master would do to me if I didn't go through with it than if I did.

Even though it was dark, I could see my master's asshole stretch open. The tip of the turd was dark, and looked like a train coming out of a tunnel. Unlike the way my master fed me his piss, this time the feeding was slow and deliberate. I was amazed at the control my master had with his ass muscles. He let the turd come out slowly, naturally, without forcing it at all. In a minute there was no more than an inch sticking out. But already, I could tell it was pretty fat around. My master must be sweating from the effort of not pinching it off.

I opened my mouth and breathed on it. I could feel heat from it on my face. I'm not exaggerating, it was almost touching my lips, and I felt its temperature. I could definitely smell it, too. It smelled like a sewer. An outhouse. It smelled like shit. In another minute, about two more inches were sticking out. I put my lips around it gentle, not wanting it to break off. I found I could suck on it a little bit like a dick: half in his ass and half in my mouth. My tongue tasted the slime on the outside of it - it was really sweet, like a mucus candy covering. Unless you've eaten a hard shit, you don't know what I'm talking about. Even if the middle part is bitter and sour, there's a glistening layer of moisture on the outside of a turd, and that's what I was sucking on.

I wasn't sure how big the turd was going to get, but by the time about three inches was in my mouth, my master suddenly grunted to me, "Bite it off!" So, I bit into it with my front teeth. I bit into a turd. And then it was wholly in my mouth, There was no going back, I was eating a turd. There was shit in my mouth, and I was eating it. My master stood up quickly. I think the other half of the turd went back up his ass, but on second thought, he stood up so fast that I'm sure it just smashed itself between his ass cheeks. I guess I'd find out later. He turned around because he wanted to watch me.

My cheeks were bulging. There was turd all over my teeth, and some smeared on my lips. I suddenly didn't seem to have enough saliva. My master just grinned at me as a knelt there. I took a tentative bite. Now, here's another thing about shit you might not know. The first bite's the hardest. Now, that's not quite true, since it certainly doesn't get any easier after that. But it takes a lot of determination to go ahead and start mashing it up against your teeth. Mashing it up stops that nice sweet flavor that just holding it on your tongue has, and brings out all the rancid inner juices. So I was a little nervous when I shifted the turd over to my right molars and bit down.

Yeah, it was rank. I had expected that. But now my whole mouth tasted like shit. After the first few bites, you don't taste much different, unless there are peanuts or corn or something in the texture of it. This one didn't have anything like that. It was smooth, or as smooth as a hard turd could be. I decided to concentrate on my dick. Yeah, it was still hard. That was a good sign - that meant I still wanted to go through with this. And the sooner I choked the turd down, the sooner my dick could get some attention. So, I started chomping.

No sooner as I had mashed it up twice than my master said, "Don't swaller it." I looked up at his, my cheeks bulging. "Chew it up," he explained, "but don't swaller it." Ok, I thought. I mashed the turd up on one side of my mouth and then the other, until there was nothing but a uniform paste. By this time, I had started salivating again, though I don't know if it was from the flavor or what. So, I soon had a manageable liquid slurry in my mouth, though it was still a mouthful.

"Show me," my master ordered, and I opened my mouth for him to see. Some of the slurry dripped out of my bottom lip and onto my white t-shirt. Oh, what the hell, it was covered with piss already anyhow. Seeing the brown mass in my mouth made my master smile. I like making him smile. I kept mashing with my tongue and teeth, when my master stuck his finger out for me to suck on. I took it into my mouth like a dick, careful not to spill and more of the slurry. He moved his finger around mouth, feeling the shit coating the inside of my lips. He painted the inside of my palate, moving his forefinger up around the outside of my top teeth, until my entire mouth was coated. I bet my teeth were black from all the shit covering them. But one thing was nice: there was so much shit all over mu tongue that there had stopped being much taste at all. Maybe I was getting used to being a sewerpipe.

My master took his finger out of my mouth and brought it up to his nose. He took a big theatrical sniff, and then let out his breath in a big, "Ah!" It's nice to know he's as big a pervert as I am, and he enjoys the smell of his own shit as much as I do. He repeated for me, "Don't swaller now..." I assumed he meant for the slurry to just trickle down my throat slowly. I had no idea that one of his plans for me this weekend was for me to have my mouth as full of shit as possible at all times. Holding a half-chewed mess was an easy way to get me to do that.

Then, with a shrug, my master quickly turned around and started walking away from me. He grabbed his boots and socks from off the floor next to the sofa, but left his jeans and filthy boxer shorts. I wasn't sure if I should just kneel there and wait for him (kneeling in a pool of cold piss, with a dirty t-shirt on, a mouthful of shit, and a hard dick poking over a tight diaper) or if I should follow. I got the message when he called out to me over his shoulder, "Get yer ass downstairs."

I was getting a little uncomfortable kneeling there in fact, and I was relieved I could get up. My hard dick ached, and the butt plug in my ass would have pooped out if it wasn't for the harness holding it in place. I stretched my legs, which were plenty sore from kneeling there for so long. But I knew I had to hurry after my master, if only because I was worried about getting punished, and for the second reason that I could feel the laxatives he had given me start to kick in, and I could feel the three day's worth of shit start moving urgently down my colon.

I followed his dark retreating form through a kitchen and down some back stairs. So this was his dungeon, I thought. It wasn't much... just a concrete room with a drain in the middle of the floor. Master J wasn't one of those leather queens who had all his equipment beautifully cleaned and displayed on hooks in the wall. Instead, some gear was thrown on the floor, or was laying on a couple of tables and chairs in the corner. Then again, there were a couple of doors leading off this room that I never saw, so maybe he had more equipment elsewhere. There were a few yellowing old posters taped up on the wall showing scat fantasies by Etienne or the Hun, but besides that, there wasn't any other decoration. A bare light bulb hung from the ceiling, next to some industrial-grade hooks drilled into the ceiling beams.

I paused for a minute when the smell hit me. It stank like an open sewer - which judging from the drain in the middle of the floor, it probably was. I think there was also some shit rotting away in a few buckets I could see on the floor which were stained brown inside and out. I saw some plastic sheeting and tarps along one wall, and a shit-covered gasmask next to it. There was a TV monitor hooked up to a video camera for taping scenes - something my master and I talked about. I didn't want him to take any photos or anything... I was embarrassed enough that I was down here. But he said he would be shooting some movies, "for private use".

I stood in the basement dumbfounded with my mouth hanging open while I looked around, and that was probably a mistake. Master J came up behind me and shoved me roughly from behind. "Git on the floor!" he yelled. I dove to the ground. And it was then I saw it, a rim chair next to the drain. I knew my place would be underneath it for a while, so I wriggled on my back so my head was looking out from underneath it. As I was working into position, my master kicked me once in my ribs for being slow.

I lay there for a long time looking up through the toilet seat at that bare light bulb, while my master busied himself around the room. I think he was sorting through his gear, trying to decide what to use on me. So, I just concentrated on breathing and flexed my shit-covered hands inside their padded mitts, which were crossed across my chest for comfort. My ass clenched and released, clenched and released on the butt plug, which felt like a part of my body by now since it had been in there so long. And, I tongued the left-over shit that was still in my mouth. It was pretty much gone by now, so I licked the remains off of the outside of my teeth and around my gums. This is my favorite part of eating shit - just leisurely savoring the aftertaste of a shit session. Maybe burping up a shit burp, and tasting the meal all over again. I've always loved being tied up and blindfolded after a feeding, so I just reminisce about the scene we just had, and think about what an animal I had just become.

The rim chair was nice. Master must have made it himself. It looked really sturdy, with a wooden toilet seat bolted to some two-by-fours. There were a lot of hooks and straps on the sides of the seat. I imagined that the straps could hold someone in there permanently while the boards on the sides and back could fold down so the feeder's head was enclosed on three sides by the seat (and by darkness, since he wouldn't be able to see anything). It was a hot setup, and I felt my dick getting hard while I lay there on my back. However, I didn't dare touch it with my mitts, because I knew I'd get another kick in the ribs, or worse.

Finally, after a few minutes of thunks and thumps, the sound of rubber being moved and some leather cracking like a whip, I saw my master return. Or rather, I saw his hairy ass descend to the toilet seat through the circle of the toilet. Since my visibility was limited to looking up, I just saw a brief glimpse of his back, and then I saw him sit down like a moon eclipse of the lightbulb. Then, my attention was focused on his asshole, like any good slave.

If you've never been under a rimseat, you might not know this, but the shape of a toilet seat really makes a guy's asshole bloom open like a rose. I think it's the pressure spreading out the cheeks, but my master was no exception. I could see a lot of shit smeared between his cheeks from earlier, so his crack was really dark. But in the center of it was a hole spreading out, waiting for me to lick. My head was about five inches under my master's ass, so I had to lift my head up quite a ways in order to lick the crack.

I wanted to do it. I didn't want to do it. I desperately wanted to do it. So, I arched my back, and planted my face right into the muddy area. My nose sank into the muck, and my cheeks felt wet. There was so much shit that I couldn't really lick yet, so I opened my mouth, and used my top front teeth to scrape a layer of shit into my mouth. It tasted the same as before, since it was the same shit. I kept on working, scraping a little shit, licking a little, and trying to clean up the crack, to little effect. If anything, I just smeared around the shit all over his ass and my face. This gave me an idea. I have a full beard and mustache, so I used my facial hair as a mop. I wiped my face all up and down his crack, coating my eyebrows, forehead, and chin with all the remaining shit. I must have looked completely black if my master looked down at me through the rimseat.

But he didn't. Besides letting out a little groan when my front teeth grazed his asshole, he didn't seem to notice me at all. He put on his socks and heavy boots again. He got out a cigar from a low table to his right, but off the end of end, lit it, and started smoking it. Hell, if he had a newspaper, I bet he would have started reading it and ignoring me, just as if getting your hole cleaned by an ass-sucker was the most normal thing in the world.

My back was getting tired from lifting my head up again and again. But my dick was still rock hard, and dripping pre-cum into my diaper. My stomach felt full, but it wasn't so bad now that I was laying down. However, I could feel the laxatives I had taken earlier start to take effect. My stomach grumbled and growled as my three days of shit slid into my lower colon. I knew I'd have to get that plug out soon.

Finally, I wiped enough shit onto my face that I could see my master's hole. It was a brown-pink, and it pulsated outwards periodically like a sea anemone. It seems like it had a life of its own. Any good rimmer could tell you the same, but its fun to play with a guy's asshole. You can tongue it quickly, and watch it clench up. Or, lick it slowly, and it might open up further and push out. It's like an alien creature, and somehow doesn't seem in the control of the person it's attached to. That's probably one reason I like licking ass. The world can reduce until it's just about my tongue, and an asshole - nothing else.

I was getting into licking ass, hoping my master would give me some more shit. I was digging my tongue further and further into his hole, where I could feel the other half of the log he had fed me earlier. I thought I'd eat some more, when all of a sudden, my master got up. I could smell the cigar smoke in the room over the stench of shit - he had probably finished smoking it was ready to move onto other things. He looked down at me once and slightly smiled. I bet I looked funny lying there, my head entirely covered in shit and me licking my lips. It's the way he likes me. He stepped over my body and knelt beside my head.

My master pulled some leather straps from the sides of the feeding chair. The first went over my neck like a collar so I could pull my head out from the rimchair even if I wanted to (and I didn't). Then, a kind of board went around my neck sealing off the exit like having your head through a stockade. However, it also had the effect of cutting off some of my air, and I didn't like it very much. I found that I couldn't lift my head off the floor, when he pulled a second strap across my shitty forehead and secured it on the other side. Now, not only couldn't I lift my head, I couldn't even turn it from side to side. My mouth became a fixed target, a hole at the bottom of the rim chair.

Then he flipped the sides of the rim chair down. Now the chair became a box, and almost all the light was cut off, as well as most of the air. I felt trapped, and could only stare straight up at the lightbulb on the ceiling, though my eyes darted around to see if I could see anything more. I couldn't. Finally, my master roughly grabbed my right hand mitt from my chest and attached it somehow to the outside of the box, kind of near my ears. Within ten seconds, my other hand was secured, too, and I suddenly felt very vulnerable: my head was tied down, encased in a heavy wooden box, and my hands were in shit-filled mitts secured to the box. I could flap my elbows like a bird or kick my legs, but neither option seemed useful. However, this only made my dick harder for some reason.

My master got up and messed around some more around the room, judging by the sounds. But when he sat on the rimchair again, it was like the whole world disappeared. I could only see a little light from the area where his balls where hanging over my chin. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I could see his as and crack in the low light reflecting around the inside of the box. His shitty asshole was poised about four inches from my mouth, just pulsating a little bit. I knew I should open my mouth and just let the shit fall into it. I thought back to the nasty conversations I had had with my master: this kind of play was called "drop feeding". My master wanted me to see his turds come out of his asshole. He wanted me to concentrate on their size and shape as they came out. With my head tied down, my whole world was centered around watching his asshole... what else could I do?

With a loud rip, my master blew a fart into the box. Man, in was rank. Probably made ranker by the enclosed space. But for a second, it was like I had no oxygen in there and I could breathe. I wrinkled up my nose, and saw my master lift up his balls and peek down at me, laughing. Then he sat his butt down on the seat and fart again, two or three more time, but not as loud as before. I could hear him giggling... I know he thought this was funny. Then I felt a wetness on my chin. I looked down, and there was a stream of piss tricking onto my neck and pooling under my head. I guess my master had to piss as well as shit.

It was mesmerizing. I watched my master's hole open up and push out. Maybe a tip of brown appeared for a second, or maybe I was imagining things in the darkness. But then his asshole clenched together and the shit popped back inside. Then nothing for a while, then I saw the head of that turd pop out again like a groundhog looking out of a hole. I think my master was teasing me. I would open my mouth and expect a sudden flow of shit, and then my master would grunt a bit, and the turd would get pinched and disappear. My mouth was watering... it was like a dream. I could hear my master grunting a little at each effort, and I expect sweating a little bit. Feeding slowly like this takes a lot of practice, and my master was the best.

After several minutes of this torture, I saw a good half-inch of the turd. There was no going back. I could see the rough head of it where I had bitten it off earlier. But the rest of it looked pretty firm, covered in ass slime and pretty bumpy. About an inch hung out now, and then two inches. It looked like a snake coming out of a hole. It was about an inch and a half across... a pretty big turd, but I had eaten thicker ones than that before. I would if my master had taken Immonium AD or something for the last couple of days to make his shit harder. In any case, it looked like a good load, as three or four inches came down close to my mouth.

At this point, I could lick the shit, and I did. Just once, because it was coming down too fast now and I was afraid it was going to break off. So, I opened my mouth and let the turd enter. But (pig that I was), I kept my lips pinched a little bit, so I could feel the turd enter my mouth. It felt like a dick, like a thick dick being forced into my mouth. I felt the bumps on it with my tongue, but really no flavor yet. My master shifted a little bit above me, and the turd broke off from his ass, leaving about an inch of wet stuff hanging out of his asshole. Still, I had about four inches in my mouth and three outside. It would have looked like I was smoking a cigar. I was in heaven.

However, I knew I didn't have much time to play with the turd. It wasn't like my master would wait all day for me to eat it, so I took a huge bite. And I mean huge. I don't know if you've ever tried to eat anything with your mouth stuffed full (much less shit) but there was almost too much shit to take. The first bite just shifted a mass of shit into my right cheek, and I swallowed a pretty big lump. I didn't taste that first lump, but after the bite, the flavor hit me all at once. Now, even though I love to eat shit, sometimes the flavor is hard to take - a bitter soft gumminess. It's ok for a little bit, but for this much shit, and with my head tied down, I felt like I was choking. I quickly mashed a lot of the turd into my left cheek, so my cheeks bulged out like a chipmunk. A good two inches of the shit was bitten off, and tumbled down my face, leaving a brown streak across my right eye.

I know I lost my hard-on at this time, though I couldn't see it. There was just too much to concentrate on. I focused on chewing and swallowing, chewing and swallowing, and tried to ignore the taste. Now, this was impossible since the flavor was so strong (what the hell did my master eat? A tough steak followed by a pot of coffee?) In the past, I've sometimes gotten sick at this stage - mashing up shit but not really wanting to swallow it. I hoped I didn't puke, since with my head tied down, it would be a really messy mistake. Plus, my master would probably make me eat it again. So I just swallowed as much as I could take at a time, and soon the turd was gone, either digested, smeared around my mouth, or all over my teeth and the roof of my mouth.

But I couldn't think about that for very long, since another turd was descending from master's ass. This one was softer, and I just smacked my mouth open, and let it fall. Most of it landed in my mouth, but the rest was coiled over the top of my nose, and down my cheek. I closed my mouth, and it felt like I had a mouth of peanut butter. There was no point in even trying to chew this mass, since it was so soft, so I just closed my mouth and slurped it down like mashed potatoes. But in the meantime, more shit fell onto my chewing mouth and down my face. Meanwhile, I occasionally felt hot wet piss on my neck.

It was hopeless, as soon as I opened my mouth, I could only get a mouthful in before the rest of the shit broke off and fell under my head. I bet I had a good half a pound lying around my ears. I had no idea how much shit my master could feed me. It just kept coming and coming. I kind of gave up and kept my mouth closed, sucking on the shit that was in my mouth, and hoping nothing covered my nose and smothered me. It was like work.

The finally, it was done. I had a pile of shit on my face, another in my mouth, and several piles next to my head melting into all the piss. But no shit was coming out of my master's asshole anymore, and for that I was grateful. Then, with one sudden fart, and gooey splat of shit sprayed onto my face. I closed my eyes just in time, but I bet my face was covered in wet slime. Another fart or two and I knew the shit was done. Then, my master bent his dick into the box, and started pissing on me.

I opened my mouth... I thought I would be grateful for some liquid after eating all that soft shit, but the piss mostly hit my cheek, or splashed up into my eyes. Jesus Christ that burned. Some went up my nose, and I thrashed a little until the pissing stopped. My eyes were clenched closed, but when I tried to open them a little, it just burned more. But I could see bright light now... my master had gotten up from his throne and left me lying there covered in piss and shit. Then, all of a sudden, he put a lid on the box, and I was left in total darkness.

It smelled like my head was inside a latrine: there was shit everywhere. Some lumps slowly fell down my cheeks. I snorted a little bit and tried to blow all the piss and shit from my nose so I could breathe. By now the pile on my face had melted away or fallen off, and I felt better. I sucked at my teeth and gums, and tried to muster enough saliva to choke the rest of the shit down. My head must have looked like hell, but my body was still pretty clean. I relaxed in the darkness... bondage always does that to me, like I'm floating. I just wished I could have used my hands a little bit to wipe off my face, but they were tied tightly out of sight. I got most of the shit swallowed or drooled out the side of my mouth and tried not to breathe through my nose. I inhale through my mouth and tried not to smell the incredible stink in the box.

All of a sudden, I felt my master sit on my stomach. The breath whooshed out of my lungs, and it hurt like being smashed by a wrestler. His asshole was still dirty since I hadn't licked it clean after the last feeding, and it was smearing my lower belly with shit. I couldn't see anything, which made it scarier. He bounced once of twice, and I grunted at every bounce. I think he liked seeing what sounds he could make me do.

I felt him tweak my nipples. That always gives me an instant hard-on. It's like my nipples are hard-wired to my dick. And with my head tied down, my nipples instantly got hard in the cold basement air, poking out away from my chest. My master pinched them softly, massaging them at the same time. Then, suddenly he gave my right nipple a hard tweak with his fingernails. If he wasn't sitting on my chest, I bet I would have bucked him off. I sure yelled as loud as I could, but it was muffled by the closed box my head was in. It was like fire coursed through my chest. Then he did the left one. I jerk to that side, trying to get away, but of course, I could move.

He alternated between the left one and the right one, sometimes doing two in a row, or switching between gentle caresses and rough twists and pulls. I didn't know what to expect. I think my eyes were watering a little bit, and I really started to sweat. My master punched my pecs a little bit, feeling the muscles in the chest and shoulders. I'm glad he liked my body - I had spent way too many hours at the gym. I felt like I was working on it for him.

His hands massaged up my neck, and then he opened the toilet box and stuck a hand in. I couldn't see anything in the sudden flash of light, but his hand felt around my cheek. Two fingers roughly entered my mouth and felt around while I sucked on them. Then, he withdrew his hand, and scooped up a pile of shit that was next to my head. Then, the box closed and I was in darkness again.

I felt him pull up the t-shirt I was still wearing. Then, I felt a wet "plop" on my chest. By now, the shit was pretty cold, and it was chilly as my master massaged my chest with the shit. I couldn't smell anything different, but I bet my master smelled quite a stink as he played with my nipples and handful of shit. It's a good thing he's into shit, too. Hell, I think he likes it more than me sometimes. The lid of the box opened up again as my master got another handful, and smeared it on my left shoulder underneath my shirt.

It felt gooey, but it was nice at the same time. Like a massage. Is shit good for your skin? Probably... I know rich fuckers spend hundred of dollars for a mud pack to make their pores smaller. Well, this was a mud pack of a different kind. After a few minutes, he stopped opening up the rimseat, since the shit was almost gone anyway. He stopped sitting on me which was kind of a relief since he was pretty heavy. But still, I felt handfuls of cold wet mud hit my stomach, my legs, and rubbed into my armpits. I don't know where he was getting the shit... maybe he had it stored up someplace, since it felt really cold like it was refrigerated.

The massage was nice. I was getting into the headspace of a true slave. I couldn't see myself, but I imagined that I was entirely made out of mud, like a golem. A shit monster. It felt good to feel his hands on my calves, and all over my torso. He took my socks off, and rubbed shit into my feet, one at a time, making sure to get between my toes. Then, he put my socks back on, which I thought was odd. I was still wearing a t-shirt and the diaper, but underneath it all, from head to toe, I was smeared in shit. I bet it was a sight to behold.

My master opened up the seat of the rimchair again and looked down at me. I saw his gruff beard and mustasche - jet black like a pirate's. He moved a hand down my forehead and nose, almost lovingly. He scooped up more shit, and smeared it on a few spots that were probably unmarked. He rubbed some into my ears, and my hair. I didn't dare say anything.

"Yeah, boy, that's the way I like ya."

"Covered in shit... several layers a shit." Most of the shit was gone now, either rubbed on my body or face, but he kept wiping the rest of it off the floor and onto my face, around my lips, or dipping a finger or two into my mouth to suck off.

"There's different shit, ya know," he was saying. "You can tell how long a pig has bin in shit but the color of it. "Dark or flakin' off and he rolled in it a long time ago. Fresh shit is wet and lighter."

He stood up from the box one last time. "I like my boys cov'red in shit," he laughed.

I have to add that I'm pretty hairy myself. Some masters like their boys shaved, and I've never understood that. A thick matt of hair keeps the stink in for a long time. Keeps the shit from falling off you, too. I found that out when my master first coated me with his shit. The smell stuck to me for days, even at work or at the gym. I must have taken over a hundred showers, but I was always worried that people would know what kind of a shit freak I was. Now, I see the stink as a part of me, like the thick hair covering my back and legs. Just something to get used to, not to remove. However, I still try to clean up enough by Monday so to not to get fired at work, though I don't mind if the people at the grocery store can smell something.

The lid of the box descended one more time. I couldn't see anything, but I found out later this is what happened. My master set up a videorecorder for the next part of the scene. Looking at the tape later, I could see a package on the floor. That was me. I was wearing a t-shirt with smears of shit on it, a diaper (again with smears of shit on it), and socks. My head is completely invisible inside a wooden box-like thing. My master is on camera, naked except for a pair of sock and boots. Either he liked boots, or maybe the concrete floor of the basement was too cold for him. It was sure making me shiver, though maybe it was the excitement of the scene.

And then the scene started, this time for real.

Being a slave is a weird combination of service, and hoping to get served. After what seemed like three hours, I really wanted to get off. Hell, I just wanted to get my dick touched. I think my master sensed this, since he knelt beside me and pulled my diaper slowly down my thighs and legs. On the tape, you can see him sniffing the inside of it for a minute before tossing it into a corner. My dick bobbed up instantly at the feeling of cold air and the diaper being removed. It felt really good to get more naked - kind of like having more freedom even though I was tied down. I got rock hard at the idea of being a naked slave, subject to the whims of my master. My arms quivered, and I wondered what was going to happen next.

My master got up and brought back two restraints from a table off-camera. He placed these around my ankles and locked them. Of course, in the total darkness of the shit box, I couldn't tell what anything was going on. But all of a sudden, I felt my legs fly up into the air, and I rolled onto my upper back.

Man that surprised me! What happened was, my master connected my ankle restraints to two chains, and then pulled those chains up and locked them to an eyehook on the wall behind me. Voila! Instant sling. Ok, it wasn't a sling, but it was the next best thing. I was on my back in a puddle of shit and piss, I couldn't see anything, my ass was nicely exposed, with my butt plug pointing a little up into the air.

However, the sudden pressure of my legs against my stomach really hurt. Now, I can stay in position on my back for hours like any good pig bottom. Hell, I lived in a sling during a few trips to Amsterdam years back. But the full load in my ass combined with the laxatives meant I wanted the butt plug out, now! However, I wasn't in control of when it was coming out. I wasn't in control of anything, in fact.

I bent my knees and tried to get as comfortable as I could in the new position. Meanwhile, my master was toying with my butt plug. It was still locked in the harness that went around my waist and between my legs. Still, he pulled it out a little bit, and I felt my asshole clench down as the wider part of the plug pulled from the inside. Then, he pushed the plug back in place, and I felt a thrill as it settled against my prostate again. Then he pulled it out, and shoved it roughly back in.

After ten minutes or so of this, I found my asshole opening up. I guess I was nervous or a little tense. Or maybe there's something in all of us that tells or body not to shit when it's not in a position over a toilet bowl. Certainly in absolute blackness and upside-down, my mind was telling my ass not to release anything or it would probably roll back down on me. But the constant pulling, tugging, and twisting of the butt plug was too much to resist. I found myself getting into it, rocking back and forth a little bit as the wide plug was fucking my ass.

As the constant pressure kept going, in and out, I felt my master reach around to my belly and unsnap the harness. One hand kept up the persistent motion, while the other one remove the harness, turning it into a useless intricate set of leather belts. Then, the plug was free, and I knew I could shit it out at any moment. It was a thrilling minute, and I knew the intense pressure in my rectum would soon go away. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice and looking down over the side. However, the plug didn't shoot out of my ass lie I thought it would... for some reason, it now felt like part of my own body. It rested in place, though just a gentle tug could have opened my asshole and pulled it out. My body was that relaxed.

It wasn't a gentle tug I felt, though. In a rush of motion my master yanked the plug out in one continuous motion. I felt my asshole open up like a deep cavern - after wearing the plug all that time, my asshole couldn't clench itself shut. Even though I was upside down, my huge load of shit started pouring out of my asshole in an incredible release. I moaned out loud: half a shout and half a yell. It was like giving birth.

But right as the crap was flowing over the side, I felt something slam into my ass. The shit was pushed back up my ass! This actually hurt - it was like physical pain. For some reason, because I was expecting some relief, my bowels had all tightened up. The shit being pushed back UP my asshole pushed awfully against my prostate.

Then, the thing pulled out of my ass, and the shit moved out again. Then, the thing jammed against my butt. It was kind of like being spanked, I felt something ram against me again and again. I wondered if my master was trying to fist me at the same moment I was trying to shit.

Then I figured it out (you would have gotten the idea a lot quicker if you were watching the videotape). My master was fucking me. With each thrust, his dick and balls were stopping the flow of shit and pushing it back up. I was only able to shit out a little bit every time he pulled his dick out where only the head was inside my asshole. And my master has a pretty big dick. Now, I've

I'm surprised there was any room for the shit to flow around his meaty shaft. But then again, I really had to take a dump, and my asshole had been opened up pretty big by that point.

I've actually fucked a guy while he was shitting before - I've done something a lot like what my master was doing to me. Ok, ok, the guy wasn't tied down, but it was an incredible sensation to feel shit flow past your dick as you ramming it up some guy's poop chute. It was truly like "going against the flow" and I remember that I didn't last long with the extra feeling that the shit gave me as I fucked the poor guy. Plus, the smell was intoxicating - there's nothing like the reek of freshly mashed-up shit. But what I loved most was the sound. The sound of shit squelching between our bodies as my balls slapped wetly against his dirty ass cheeks was something to remember.

Well, my master must be hearing and smelling all of those things, but with my head locked inside a box, I couldn't hear much of anything. Maybe I heard my master groan a little bit, or say something to himself like "Yeah, fucker, yeah, fucker," but I don't know. It was like being locked inside of silence, which had the added effect of reducing my senses to concentrating on the smell and felling inside my ass. The smell was atrocious - I described that before - but the asshole feelings were something I had never felt before. I felt like I was shitting and being pulled inside out at the same time. It took me about fifteen minutes to finally complete my bowel movement since my master's dick kept shoving masses of the shit back up me with every stroke. So, I felt incredible relief on the out motion and that pressure on my prostate when he rammed back inside of, which made me want to shit more and more, which I did. Over and over again, and he fucked me the whole time. There must have been a huge amount of shit all over his dick and balls as he fucked me, and looking at the videotape later I could verify that yeah, of course there was.

Some of the shit got smeared on my master's lower belly and legs. Some of it landed on the floor, to be scooped up later. And some of if was smeared all over me, adding another layer to the crap I was painted with before. As he fucked me, my master grabbed handfuls of shit and rubbed it all over my thighs and butt. Some of it he reached up and spread underneath my t-shirt, which was getting pretty brown and grimy by that point. At one point, he grabbed my ankles for a deeper fuck, and managed to smear a thick layer of crap all over my knees and legs, too.

So, I was getting shitfucked. I guess that's the only thing to call it. Shit makes a pretty good lube - it's soft and warm, and my ass was making more and more of it as the fucking went on. After ten minutes, I thought my master would come, but I should have known him better than that. Yeah, he pulled out of my ass eventually. Maybe he thought he was going to shoot. It wasn't like my tight ass was milking his dick or anything. After the fucking with the butt plug opened up my hole, I bet he couldn't feel much of anything as he fucked me. But he pulled out and sat back for a minute, sweating heavily and covered in my shit from belly to thigh in a thick half-inch layer of crap. If must have smelled heavenly to him.

Now, I usually don't keep a hard on when I get fucked, but this time was an exception. Maybe it was because my head was locked into that shit-filled darkness, but I kept imagining what things were looking like on the outside, and when my master was ever (if ever) going to stop fucking me. So, I almost jerked off the floor when I felt a shit-covered hand start massaging my rock-hard dick. Oh man that was the best feeling. After having my dick tied up in that diaper for what seemed like hours, and the constant erection I'd had since I left work, I was begging for release. Still, I knew better than to come before my master gave me permission. Plus, I knew that after I came, I would fall out of the headspace I was in, and then I wasn't sure that I would want to be still covered in shit. I'd never gone this far in a scene before, and I wasn't sure I could go through with it if I wasn't horny.

The hand job felt great. My dick was getting a good pumping, and I bet it was oozing out a lot of pre-cum. There was definitely a lot of shit lube - just the way I like it. However, there was nothing in my ass, and it suddenly felt empty. My asshole clenched together without anything inside of it for the first time in hours, as if it was a mouth trying to find something to nibble on. But that emptiness only lasted a few more dick pumps, and I soon felt something invade my asshole once again.

On a later viewing of the videotape, I could see that it was a long, large black dildo going inside of me. My master rubber a handful of shit on it once to get it started, then placed it against my asshole and pushed. But to my dark shit prison, it just felt like the largest fist that I'd ever taken. By that time, my hole was closing up, so the sudden WHOOSH as the dildo opened up my hole caused me to scream inside my box. Man, it was a searing pain. Now, when I usually play with guys, I go slow and let the dildo rest a while until the guy gets used to it and his sphincter muscles relax. There was no mercy from my master however, and the long black dildo started pinioning itself in time with the hand masturbating my cock.

Now this is one of my favorite feelings - getting working at my dick and ass at the same time. It's like being inside a giant washing machine and having your guts churned repeatedly by a large rotating pole while your dick is in heaven. However, that combo also made my asshole tighter, which probably is while the black dildo felt so big. On a good day when I'm relaxed, I can take a whole lot more diameter than my master's toy. However, at the moment, it felt gigantic since I was being filled up to capacity, with the monster banging on my prostate again and again.

It's funny, but the hugeness of the dildo had another effect: I felt myself getting soft again. Maybe it was the pain, or I was nervous, or maybe my dick was just tired of being hard for so long. But it was evident that I wasn't going to shoot. However, the hand kept moving on my dick again and again. Sure, it felt like heaven at first, but have you ever been jacked off after you've come? It felt like that, and soon the pleasure turned to a sort of pain. My soft dick was just being mashed around now in a handful of shit, and my balls were getting banged around pretty bad. And still the dildo moved in and out of my ass, sometimes turning like a huge worm inside my intestines.

I think my master sensed my discomfort and the drooping of my dick. It's not like he didn't care, it's just that he wasn't ready yet to stop doing what he was doing. I started moaning with each dildo stroke. I felt like an animal, and I made inhuman noises "Ugh, ugh, ugh" as the dildo went in and out. I think my master liked the sounds coming from the box - maybe that's what made him move the dildo a few more dozen strokes long after I wasn't enjoying it any more. Or maybe he was trying to teach me a lesson. All I know is that I felt really vunerable at that moment. It reminded me that I wasn't in control of my own body - my master was. I just kept grunting and tried to "ride above the pain" like any good slaveboy is taught to do.

Do I guess I was in my own headspace and didn't really notice when the dildo was removed. All I remember is that my ass was burning but my master wasn't touching my dick any more. Maybe he ran out of lube. But all of a sudden, the toilet seat lid flew open, and my eyes were flooded with light. I twitched and blinked against the sudden brightness. I bet my mouth was open and I tried to complain or say something, because my lips were apart as I felt the shitty dildo fly through the hole in the box and bounce against my teeth. I was surprised, and it took me a minute to figure out what as going on. I was supposed to clean the dildo for my master, that what I was supposed to do. The dildo that was recently in my ass, because that's one duty that all good slaveboys are trained to perform.

However, There was no way that the dildo was going to fit I my mouth. Even with my mouth wide open now, only the first round-tipped inch of the dildo could fit inside my mouth. I squirmed a little but, and looked up and my master's face looking down at me. He just pushed the dildo harder, and another inch went into my mouth.

Now, I don't know if you've ever tried to put something huge inside our mouth: a fist, a big disk, maybe even a beer can. But it felt like the sides of my mouth were being torn. My lips really hurt like they were chapped. My master bopped the top of the dildo two or three times, and a good three inches filled my mouth, puffing out my cheeks. The top of the dildo kept the toilet box lid opened up, so I could see a lot of light now. I blinked it away, and concentrated on the thing filling my mouth.

I was right; there wasn't a lot of shit on the dildo. It had probably rubber off from all the fucking until a light coating remained. Or maybe my tastebuds were just immune to the flavor by now. But I couldn't really move my tongue around the dildo, so I just laid there sucking on it a little bit. I hoped my master would consider that sufficient. So, I was too preoccupied with my mouth to notice something going up my as again.

It was a fist. On videotape you can see it, but in my shit-covered stupor I just laid there are decided to take the new sensation my master was giving me. It wasn't like I could do anything about it, being tied up with my legs in the air. I felt two fingers, and then three. My master moved them around in a circle, and then in and out. It was like a snake constantly swirling. I didn't even notice when he had four fingers in since I was getting so relaxed.

Now, I'm not a fisting novice, and I've had my good and bad share of tops. But this was the most incredible fisting I've ever had. My master was that good. Plus, the dildo was acting like a gag, and I love gags. It forced me to breathe through my nose, so I was smelling a lot more shit, which was making me hard. Again, I couldn't see anything, but I imagined my master, covered in my my now-drying shit, pumping his hand into my asshole - his forearm smeared with clumps of mud, and his slave bent double like a human sculpture. The combination of fisting, shit, and the gag started my dick going again. Was I just a machine? My master was pushing my buttons and I felt a little silly at how horny I responded. I guess I'm just an inhuman shit pig.

Four fingers felt ok, which was a good sign if a guy is going to put his whole fist into me. I relaxed and expected my master's whole fist to slip in next. However, I was surprised. He turned his hand up and started massaging my prostate. Oh god, I love this feeling. My dick was hard but not getting any attention, so my asshole was nice and relaxed. But all the rubbing on my prostate felt like I needed to piss or take another shit. I bet the peristaltic motion on my asshole brought more shit down my lower colon. But unlike when I've had to keep clean for a fisting scene, this time I really didn't care: I could piss or shit with abandon. My master didn't mind , in fact I think he;d like it if his slave involuntarily crapped himself, piss spurting all over his belly and chest.

May master had a toolbox of different motions. There was two fingers rubbing on the outside of my chestnut-shaped prostate. There was a sudden rap of it, or a hard pushing on it that made me feel like my whole body was being crushed. There was a fast tickle that made me jump in my bondage, and a slow in-and-out motion where he brought one hand out part of the way while another hand slipped inside. I could differentiate between all these myriad feelings, and I slipped into that slave headspace again. On the videotape, you can hear all sorts of odd moans and grunts coming from the semi-closed box, but all I remember is the feeling of having a shitty dildo in my mouth and a hand in my ass.

My master's hand slipped inside of me with a smooth pop. If you've never been fisted, it's like being carried on a river rapids. My ass sucked in his fist like it needed it. I didn't really have any control, and it was kind of scary to feel the intense sensation. I yelled, and the dildo popped out of my mouth and fell beside my head. The toilet lid slammed down again. But I didn't notice the return of the darkness... there was just this hugeness filling my rectum walls, pressing against me from all sides.

My master turned his hand a little this way and that. Each motion bumped against my prostate. For a few minutes, my master kept turning his hand so each of his four knuckles hit my prostate one after the other. I could feel the machine-gun lie sawing of them, and the feeling was really intense. Really really really intense. I don't think I could take much more of it, and if my head wasn't tied down in the box, I think I would have tried to sit up. My legs yanked against their chains and my hand rattled the locks on the outside of the box. And then, in a sixty-second orgasm, I came.

Well, it wasn't really an orgasm, since nobody was touching my dick. I'm not one of those superman guys that can come at will. Instead, it's more of an anal orgasm. It felt like a rush. Not the really feel-good explosion of a good wank, but a flow of energy coming out of my dick. I screamed - so loud that I remember having a sore throat later, for a few minutes until I ate some more shit. On the videotape, you can just see my dick jerk up once, and then a stream of cum flow out on my lower belly like piss. It wasn't really a shot, and with each movement of my master's hand, more cum pulses out, in time to his actions. I think my master had fun playing my body like a musical instrument, each hand turn causing a jet of semen and a loud "aaaaig!" from inside the box.

Usually when I come while being fisted, I want the fist out right away, and this time was no exception. My stomach clenched violently, and every muscle in my belly tried to push the intruder away. I think I was still screaming inside the box. When I fist a guy, I take this as a sign to pull out, and I know my master knew how I was feeling. But if anything, he pressed his hand deeper into my guts. Maybe he was just trying to prove who was boss, my intestines or him, but it really hurt as my midsection tied itself in knots trying to shit out what felt like a really giant turd. Having a mouth full of shit, piss blinding my eyes, none of this mattered as much as pushing out the fist.

My master let me suffer for a few minutes, then reversed his force and let my belly shit out his hand (and on the videotape a good handful of stirred-up mushy crap). Maybe I should have been a good slaveboy and tried to keep his fist inside of me as long as I could, but my body absolutely rebelled against me. I think my master was a little disappointed, since he kept playing with my asshole, putting two or three fingers in it, wiping around the perimeter as if to brush away any shit remaining there. But I was spent, absolutely done, and I considered yelling at my master to let me out of the box and my bondage. Part of me wanted to take a hot shower, put on my clothes, and go home. But I knew that I signed up for the duration, and I kept my mouth shut.

I lay there on my back in darkness. I really thought the main part of the scene was over. I really expected to be let down from the chains, since my legs were getting tired, and my back was a little sore from the position it was in. I don't know why an orgasm causes bottoms to become a little cocky, but I was considering saying something, when I felt another entry into my sore asshole.

It felt like a thinner dildo than the first, and for that I was thankful. I wasn't really in the mood for more ass play. Have you ever been fucked after you shoot? It's not really a pleasant sensation, and you KNOW you're getting fucked since your horny dick isn't there to distract you any more. Combined with the sudden realization that I was lying in a cold pool of piss and shit, I was tempted o call a halt to the whole thing.

As if I could. Little did I know that there was thirty minutes of more fucking to come. I was going to be fucked senseless. I was going to have my entire world reduced to a dick going in and out of my ass. Because unbeknownst to me, my master rolled The Machine up to my ass.

The Machine, or rather "The Fucking Machine" is a contraption that my master built one day when he was bored. A dildo strapped to a single-stroke engine, it makes three perfectly-timed in and out thrusts every second. It needs a lot of lube to keep it from wrecking a bottom, so on the video tape, you can see my master slathering it up with some kind of vegetable oil, priming it at the outside of my rectum, and hitting the switch.

"Lets open up that hole of yours!" He cried as the machine took off.

And I mean TOOK OFF. Three strokes a second is almost two hundred a minute. Do the fucking math. It's almost a constant vibration that goes through you. Your asshole doesn't have any time to clamp down, not that I had any strength left in those muscles anyway. I vibrated in place, just feeling the heat and the friction from the fast-moving dildo inside of me.

After five minutes I thought it was kind of funny. Ok, ok, I get the message. I'm just a fuck hole for my master. However, after ten more minutes, I realized that my master wasn't going to turn the thing off. He didn't even change the speed. After fifteen minutes, the thing really started to hurt. I panicked and wondered if my master had left the room or even the building, and than he was going to leave me strapped into the thing all night. Or even all weekend! The thought terrified me, and made my dick a little harder at the same time. In reality, on the videotape, my master was sitting there the whole time, pouring a constant stream of vegetable oil on the pistoning thing. I didn't really need to worry, though I didn't know that.

After twenty minutes, my master completely broke me. It's a feeling that few slaves ever get to. Maybe just concentration camp prisoners or unfortunate guys suffering under severe interrogation. In any case, my will broke. I just laid there. I didn't move, and I didn't flinch. I could have had my balls slapped or my chest branded with hot pokers, and I would have just taken it. My body wasn't mine anymore, it was just a plaything for my master. I closed my eyes, crying more than a little bit, and imagined the dildo inside me to actually BE my master. I was ruled by a giant dick, and it controlled all my actions. I would do anything for that dick. I didn't really want it to stop... I didn't have much will for anything to happen. I was just a puppet.

Of course it stopped. In fact, my master had methodically timed the whole thing. Later, while watching the tape, he would make fun of me and laugh at how quickly I had given up. A real man, he taunted, would have taken a lot more of that or at least tried to get away. It just proved what a shit-loving pussy boy I really was. All I remember is that I was floating, my ass permanently attached to a post as if I was part of The Machine. All in all, I had ceased to me.

After the thirty minutes were up, the machine stopped. My ankles were detached from the chains and my master gently lowered them to the ground (in reflection, I wonder why he didn't just drop them to the concrete - I wouldn't have minded). My hands were unlocked from the box, thought the mitts stayed on, and I didn't even try to lower them to my belly to protect myself. I just laid there all splayed out while my master undid the straps and buckles of the shit container that was holding my head. I remember looking up at the light, staring straight ahead, and then I was free.

I guess I should have felt elated when I finally climbed out of that bondage, but I just felt defeated. My asshole was useless, just a gaping wound that was bleeding shit out like an incontinent hole. It was certain that I'd need to wear a diaper for the rest of the weekend. My back was sore, my legs were sore, and my dick was even sore from shooting earlier. But it still hadn't felt like a PROPER orgasm - it felt like I hadn't even shot yet. I was still horny, and I was "game" for whatever came next - at least that's what I told myself at the time. Shit covered, dripping, and wrung out like a old dishrag. On the videotape, my jaw is slack. My eyes are bloodshot and drooping, and I'm slouching. Not a pretty picture for a used shit slave. When my body was lying, there was a brown pattern on the floor, a kind of chalkmark outline where my t-shirt and body hair had soaked up most of the piss and shit.

I started to walk, but my master pushed me down to my knees in the mess I had made on the floor. I instinctively put my padded-mitt hand behind me and brought my gaze down to the floor, in proper submissive pose. My master stood in front of me in his boots, and for the first time, I saw all the shit that was encrusted around his groin. Sure, it was pretty much dried by now, but it was still giving off a pretty powerful stink. He guided the back of my head down to his crotch. I could take his cock into my mouth and I started sucking, just out of instinct.

My master had different plans for me though, and I felt a stream of piss fill my mouth. I was surprised, and sat up, only to have him continue pissing - on my dick, soaking my t-shirt, and on the floor. I smacked my lips at the piss, it was hot and salty, but kind of good after the dry bitter shit I had been swallowing. But the piss also had the effect of moistening the shit that was covering my master. The second time he pulled my head down into his groin, I started licking, and tasted a bitter mixture of piss and re-liquified shit. I licked and licked but there was shit everywhere. It coated his balls, and ran up to his bellybutton. Like before, I didn't know how much good I was doing, since my face and beard were covered with shit, too. But I found by vigorous licking, I could make the brown smears a little less visible - though I couldn't call my master's crotch really CLEAN.

I returned my mouth back to my master's dick, and started to blow him. Now, sucking off a top without permission could get you a punch to the head or worse, but somehow I sensed that he wouldn't really mind. And I know I'm a good cocksucker. My master's eyes got wide, and he looked down at me suddenly, but the relaxed and closed them again. His big hands grabbed each side of my head and he pumped my face in time to his groin thrusts. His dick got harder and harder, filling my mouth. Now, I know I'm doing a good job when my master raises up a little in his boots, as if on tip-toe. If he does it a lot, I know he's about to blow his load. I hurried up my sucking a step faster: I wanted him to shoot, I almost needed top prove that I was worth of giving pleasure to my master. But just as the tip-toe action started, my master stepped backwards, leaving my mouth dick-deprived. I guess he had other plans for me.

My master motioned for me to stand up, which felt good on my creaking legs and knees. I let my master lead me to a leather chair hanging from the ceiling. I didn't find it odd at the time that there was a chair hanging from the ceiling. I think I would have let him lead me anywhere at that moment. The chair was like a sling, except that it had no back. It was simply four leather belts in a square, held up at the four corners by chains going up to a single point at the ceiling. My master quickly raised my arms over my head and clipped the padded mitts to the chain about half-way up to the ceiling. My feet were off the ground, and I was swinging a little in the air. I was still wearing the ankle restraints, and my master took two lengths of rope and tied my ankles to the chair. This had the result of pushing my ass into the center square, which pooched my asshole out a little bit. It felt good though, after all the abuse it had taken.

Imagine falling ass-first through the hole in an outhouse. That's what this was like. I couldn't use my feet to pull myself out of the hole, and my ass was at least six inches lower than the rest of me. It was comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. I was kind of bent double again, nipples to knees, and there was a lot of pressure on my belly. But my arms chained above my head prevent me from slipped through the hole to the floor, and after a few minutes, I was convinced I could hang like that for a while. I wasn't exactly sure what purpose the swinging chair was for since it wasn't at the right position for my master to fuck me. If it was suspended by bungee cords instead of chains, in might be fun to bounce in it on top of a long dildo. However, this wasn't the case, as I was to find out later. Instead, I relaxed a little bit and enjoyed the swinging back and forth. I turned my head and sniffed my armpit. Whew! I must have been sweating pretty bad when I was chained down to the floor. I was getting pretty rank. That's one of my fetishes, though, and I didn't mind. In fact, my dick started getting a little hard at the anticipation of this new game, although with my hands chained well above my head, I couldn't do anything about it.

While I was enjoyed smelling myself, I didn't notice my master messing with some equipment on the other side of the room. When I looked up, I notice that he was carrying a bucket. Inside the bucket was an assortment of things, but I couldn't see just what. He stepped up next to my swinging chair and laid out a bottle of clear lube, and a large red hot water bottle, and a long coil of rubber hose. It was an enema hose, I had seen one of those many, many times before. This one had a pretty big-sized nozzle at the end and a metal clamp halfway up the hose pinching it shut. My master lifted up the hot water bottle and started filling the opening up with all the water in the bucket. It was like a performance, and I watched as he connected the rubber tubing to the hot water bottle, checked to make sure the clamp was engaged, and then inverted the whole thing from a hook hanging from the ceiling next to the swinging chair.

I thought I had it all figured out: the enema was for me, and I was going to get cleaned out before we went on to the next stage of the party. So you can imagine my surprised when my master squeezed a god of the clear lube on his finger, and then shoved it my his own ass! He grunted a little, and clenched his eyes as he swirled the lube around his grimy sphincter. Then, he reached down for the nozzle, and with a pop! slid it into his own hole. Then he snapped his fingers and released the clamp to start the flow of water.

I was a little stunned. I don't think a bottom ever gets to see his master "clean himself out". After all, having a clean ass means that the person is going to have assplay, or need to be sanitary for his top. Fisting maybe. But I couldn't see my master letting me fist him, nor did I see the table turning so I would be the one putting dildos (or heaven forbid, my DICK) in my master's ass. So what was going on?

At the same time, I didn't realize how erotic it was to he a big hairy man take an enema. My master crouched down a little, bending his legs, and put his hairy paws on his knees. He was squatting as the water flowed into him and was sweating a little bit from the feeling. I've had many enemas before, and I love and hate the sensation. Your guts swell up, and if you take too much water too fast, it can really be painful. However, my master was a stud: the clamp was fully open, and with the height and gravity of the water, I knew he must be getting a rush or fluid shooting up his colon.

In about two minutes, he flicked the clamp closed and stood up again. He didn't look at me the whole time he was doing this - maybe he was a little embarrassed. My dick was rock hard again, and drool dick snot onto the concrete floor below. My master lifter one foot, and then the other, repeatedly marching in place. In retrospect, I think he was trying to get the water settled. But the nozzle stayed inside his ass for five minutes, and then ten. His face turned red, and he was grunting a little. He glanced over to me, looking a little pissed off and angry. After ten minutes, he started walking around the room a little, taking small steps. Then with a flurry of motion, he grabbed the bucket and sat down on it.

He didn't quite put the bucket under his in time, and a jet of water shot out of his ass and onto the floor. However, my master didn't seem to mind. With a hugh whooshing fart, water shot out into the bucket, making a reverberating noise. The first rush sounded mostly like water, but soon it stopped as if something was blocking my master's ass up. I saw his face grimace, and with a loud groan, there was a huge splash in the bucket and another gush of water. This next evacuation sounded pretty chunky, as the bucket made a machine-gun noise as bits of crap were flying out of his butthole and plopping in the bucket. He must have been pretty constipated, because he kept grunting, and shit kept squirting out. I could see my master shift his weight on the bucket, and he started to piss a little bit - a stream hit the edge of the bucket, with half of it shooting onto the floor.

It took about fifteen minutes for my master to get done. It must have been pretty hard work, because I could see him sweating and his face turning red. Occasionally, his stomach would cramp up, and he would bend forward and grunt from the strain. The sploshes came less regularly now, just a shot every few seconds or so. I bet the bucket was almost completely full from semi-liquid shit. I hoped it wouldn't fill up completely and run over the edge, or I bet I'd have to lick it up. My master grunted a few more times, then got up off the bucket without wiping or anything.

If I thought the room smelled like shit before, it really did now. Nothing can compare to an open container of diarrhea for putrid stench. As my master stood up, I could see runny shit course down his ass and the back of his legs. The bucket was as full as I thought it was. I could see about two gallons of hot stinking crap floating around in there. It sloshed around like an ocean pool full of brown water. Then, as is inevitable after taking a crap, my master had to piss. He hung his large floppy dick over the edge of the bucket and shot out a long yellow stream, which splashed the liquid that was already in there all over the floor and some on the wall behind me. Then, my master walked over to me, carrying the bucket, and he hung it from a hook on the ceiling about three feet above my head.

I was worried that my master was going to tip the entire bucket over my head, bathing me in filth. However, he had a much worse idea in his nasty head. He walked away to the opposite corner of the room and started messing with something there. By now, I had been hanging in the sling-thing by my hands for a while, and they were starting to cramp up a little bit. Streams of sweat were coursing down my armpits, and I could feel the cold trickle down my ribs and side. Finally, my master came back to me, carrying several things.

A lot of things, actually... there was rubber tubing and leather, and a whole lot of plastic and rubber. He dropped it on the shit-and-piss covered concrete below me, and knelt down about two feet below my ass. Now, my butt hadn't gotten any attention for the last twenty minutes or so, but it was still wide-open from the last fucking it got. Sitting in the sling with it hanging down didn't help either, and my ass lips were puffed out and dilated. So, I could really feel it when my master stuck two of his fingers up my hole and started moving them around.

Feel it? Hell, I almost jumped out of the sling if I hadn't of been chained in there by my hands. I felt him moving his fingers all around my rectum. And I mean all around... he was hitting all the spots, almost as if he was painting the inside of in millimeter by millimeter. What I didn't know was he also had a large amount of lube on his fingers, and by the time he pulled his fist from my shitty ass, I was nice and lubed up.

I was starting to enjoy the ass play more and more. So, I was surprised when I felt something go up my ass quickly. My butthole clenched down instinctively, but I was surprised and the intruder went in quicker than I could do anything about it. Then, I saw my master grab two black rubber pumps from the floor and start to pump them. I felt the dildo in my ass start to inflate! Actually, as I saw on the videotape later, it was an inflatable enema plug. The catheter has two balloons at the end of a rubber tube. One balloon goes in your ass, and the other one just outside. When they are both inflated, they create a tight seal around a guy's anus. You couldn't shit 'em out if ya wanted to! And if you tried really hard, you might just rip your entire sphincter out with one blow!

So, I tried to remain calm and relax as I felt the balloons start to inflate. I've had a catheter in me before, but usually I was the one inflating them. With my ass in the sling, my master controlled how many pumps I got. I could feel the balloon inside my ass start to get really big. It started to press against my prostate as if I need to take a really big shit. In a couple more pumps, I knew it would become excruciating, and I's do just about anything to have it taken out. I couldn't feel the outer balloon much, just a fullness outside my butthole, as if I had a big load in my pants.

I was really sweating now, sweat dripping off my forehead and armpits. My eyes were half-closed, and I was just trying to "ride out" the full sensation I was feeling in my ass. I looked up, and my master was smiling at me, a black bulb in each hand.

"Do ya think that's enough?" he asked me loudly.

I didn't know what to say. I knew that if I said, "Yes that's enough," that he'd just want to pump it up more. It was like a game, and I had to answer quickly.

"Um," I said slowly, "Please give me five more pumps master."

He laughed, and knew the game was on. "Ten did you say?"

I reconsidered, but wasn't sure my ass could take ten more pumps of the dildo. "Yes sir, please give me tem more pumps."

"Ok," he sighed, as if he was doing me a favor, "but you have to count 'em off, and thank me for each pump."

I've had to thank master for punishing me in the past before; I've had to count off swats from a paddle, or thank my master for each lick I got from a bullwhip. But I'd never had to count off pumps from an inflatable dildo before. I was nervous, and wondered if a guy could explode from a burst balloon in his ass. At the same time, it was kind of exciting, and I could see my dick start to jump and get hard again. Damn, the thing had a mind of its own!

I suddenly felt a pump in my ass, and the inflatable dildo got a little bit bigger. My stomach heaved a little, and I said "One sir." Then I added, "Thank you sir."

Two more pumps quickly followed, and I counted them off and thanked my master, "two sire, three sir, thank you sir."

By now, I was in agony. The inflatable plug was huge. It was pushing against all the walls of my ass, and pressing hard against my rectum. It felt like a bowling ball was up there. I'd never had so much fullness in my ass, not even when I'd gotten fisted before. My master was waiting for my trembling to settle down. I think he was being a nice guy, because the next pump was kind of small.

"Four sir, thank you sir."

My eyes were clamped shut. I was in my "slave space"... just trying to survive the ordeal. So when I didn't feel anything for a minute, I squinted on eye open. I looked up to see my master smiling at me, and he used that instant to surprise me with a pump up my ass. I screamed a loud "ah!" at the shock, and he chuckled a little bit.

"Got that one, did ya?"

"Just sir," I said, "Thank you sir."

"You forgot to count that one," he warned me. "So I think we're back on three."

I groaned internally, but I was careful not to bitch out loud. "Yes sir," I said obediently, "three sir, thank you sir."

After my mistake, we got into a sort of rhythm. He pumped up the inner balloon, and I said, "four sir, thank you sir." I don't remember five, six, or seven, very much, but my number eight, I was making the swing shake and my muscles were spasming.

"You doin' ok, boy?" he asked me.

I wasn't doing ok, not ok at all, but I answered him. "Yes sir. Eight sir. Thank you sir."

I think he was a little impressed with the way I was taking it like a man, because the ninth squirt was quick and kind of shallow. "Nine-sir-thank-you-sir!" I mumbled through gritted teeth.

I didn't know having something up your ass could hurt so much. Every nerve ending below my chest was stimulated, and my prostate was working overtime. A huge drip of clear precum hung off my dick, probably forcibly pushed out of my prostate by the pressure. Every time I took a breath in, my lungs pushed against my guts, and I felt like I was going to heave. I concentrated on taking little breathes, and I told myself I could take the discomfort. I just hoped the ballon wouldn't explode!

He pumped me one last time and said, "Yer a good boy." It was the first praise I think I'd ever gotten from him. I was so surprised, I didn't say anything, nor did I count anything or thank him. Instead, he turned a knob on the side of the bulb, and the dildo deflated a little bit. I heard the air come out, and soon the dildo was a manageable size. It was still huge, and bigger than anything I'd ever taken, but I didn't feel like it had to come out instantly. In fact, my ass muscles were starting to "chew on it" a little bit, and I was feeling warm, full, and happy.

I took a few deep breaths in relief. I noticed my dick was half-hard and my heart was racing. My master sat back on his haunches and let me alone for a minute. Then, he fiddle with something on the floor, and came up with a long tube.

If you've never seen a catheter before, it looks like a smaller version of the enema tube he had just placed in me. There's a balloon at the end, which hold the catheter in your bladder until the balloon is deflated. Again, you'd do yerself a lot of bad if you tried to yank it out while it's in you. In some hospitals, poor guys have to keep these in for days until it's changed with a fresh catheter. It comes in a sterile plastic package, and as my master ripped it open, I hoped he wouldn't drop it on the filthy floor. A bladder infection was the last thing I needed after I healed from a shit session like this.

It turned out that my master was a pro and had done this many times before. It helped that my dick was not too soft (or too hard) and that I was precuming extensively. So, he didn't need any lube as he rammed the catheter down my dick shaft. Ok, ok, it's not fair so say he rammed. It fact, he was kind of gentle as he stuck the rubber tip of the catheter into my pee slit. He pulled it out a little, then traced the tip around my pee hole slowly, creating "rainbows" of precum stretching from the catheter to my dick.

Still, it's not really a pleasant sensation to have a catheter slide down your dick. I always get a burning sensation in my pee slit as it's opened up wider than it is used to. Then, as the catheter slid deeper, I could feel it press against the base of my nuts, and slide down under my dick and into my body. My master took his own sweet time... I think he was torturing me, or just trying to get me to groove on the sensation. Well, I was feeling it alright. I was ignoring the huge plug in my ass and the strain on my hands. Hell, I didn't even smell the room (or myself) anymore. I was just concentrating on the feeling of the catheter going down my urethra.

The next thing I knew I would feel was the catheter entering my bladder. Now, there's a sphincter there, and as the catheter approaches it, it feels like you really really have to pee. Then, all of a sudden, the catheter is in, and you don't have that feeling anymore. Instead, piss started shooting out of the end of the rubber hose that was going into my dick. A stream flicked up and doused my face and chest a little bit before my master clamped off the end of the hose with a metal clamp.

Now, this is a funny sensation, too. You can tell there's something inside your bladder, but you can't quite tell what it is. It feels like you're pissing at the same time it feels like you have to piss. And since the end of the catheter was sealed up, I knew I wouldn't get any relief until my master unclamped me and allowed my bladder to empty itself again. It was erotic to think that another human being had so much control over my basic bodily functions, and I started to get hard at the thought, making my hard sick stand out around the catheter tube that was piercing it.

"Like that, do ya?" My master asked.

I didn't answer anything as he pulled out a syringe filled with water. If you look closely, there's actually two tubes coming out of my dick, but they're sealed together in the same rubber tube. The syringe connects to the second tube, and with a squirt, the balloon in my bladder is filled. Now, unlike the balloon in my ass, I didn't feel that balloon expanding at all. Still, when my master gave a little tug on the catheter, I could feel it pull on my dick. With that balloon in my guts and one in my ass, there was no way I was going to piss or shit for a long time, until my master let me.

I like to fantasize about that: I'd love to be mummified in a rubber suit, plugged and catheterized for days. I'd love to be treated like an object, jacked off, or allowed to shit with no control or effort about it. Maybe I could get a job as being a sculpture of modern art in a museum somewhere! When my master pulled out a hood, I knew that I was going to experience a little of that fantasy.

I hadn't worn this particular hood before, and I didn't get a very good look at it before my master slipped it over my head. It was leather, and there were no eye holes. There was a nose hole though, and a built-in mouth gag of some sort. I felt the mouth gag enter my lips, and I noticed it was like a rubber bit gag with a hole in it. I could feel the hole with my tongue - it was a little bigger than a soda straw, but I couldn't breathe out of it at all, like it was plugged up or something. So, I concentrated on breathing through my nose for the time being.

Since I was blindfolded, it seemed like my sense of smell got sharper, and I could make out the separate odors or feces, piss, and my own b.o. I thought I could even smell my master from where I was hanging, but maybe it was my imagination. All of a sudden, I strongly smelled shit, and felt something wet up my nostrils. On the videotape I watched (over and over) later, I could see my master leave me for a second, then go over to the floor near the captivity box I was in earlier that night. He scraped up a good two fingers of shit from off the concrete, then cam over and plastered the nose hole cut in my mask. He dug his pinky roughly up each nostril, smearing the shit up as far as it could go. While I was tied up and hooded in the sling, I couldn't refuse. It sure added a whole new layer of stank to my senses, though!

I hung there alone in the darkness for what seemed like forty minutes. Your sense of time really goes to hell when you're mummified like that. I just felt the sensation of swinging in the sling, my ass filled a balloon, and the catheter in my bladder. After all, there was nothing else I could do.

Then, I felt something in my ass. And I don't mean the balloon. No, my master had hooked me up to some water or something. It was warm, I could feel it cascading up my ass like a pipe filling up. Damn! I couldn't shit it out.

Now, I've had enemas before, but never when all tied up and helpless. And I knew my master wasn't going to stop at my usually 2 quarts. I found out I was right when I felt more and more water enter me. I started to burp as the pressure pressed on my stomach. Fuck! I wasn't used to high-volume enemas, and this was starting to hurt. I felt my belly distend and feel heavy.

I moaned into the gag, but the water didn't stop. If anything, I think my master made it flow faster somehow. I started to sweat, and felt like I was going to puke. I had never kept that much water in, and I hoped my master was going to let me shit it out soon.

The enema bag or whatever it was must have been out, because the water stopped soon after. But the pain started. My bowels started to cramp up and the really wanted to let go of the water. But that damned plug was in the way. Man, I started to shake as my guts tried to settle themselves. With the "lights out" all I could think of was my ass filled with water and how much I needed to shit. And that's when something else took over my mind.

My master must have had some water left over, because I felt it enter my bladder this time. Wow! I had forgotten that not only can catheters drain a bladder, but they can fill it back up again. But with my belly already so full, it was agony. It felt like I had to piss incredibly badly but couldn't. Like my ass, I could feel the stretching and pain without any relief.

I moaned louder. I didn't care if my master was bothered by it, I turned into a purely animal state. Pissing and shitting are two of the most basic human instincts there are. And when my master had taken them both away from me, it forced me to think about how much I had lost control. I couldn't even do the things that made me human. As a result, I was lower than lower, not a thinking person anymore, just an object for pain and humiliation.

If you are keeping track there was still a hole left; and that was the worst. Ass and dick were all filled, but there was a tube going into my mouth. And water started to flow down that tube, too. But I knew that this one wasn't "water". My mouth filled with watery shit. I've eaten enough to know what it tastes like. And then it hit me - my master's enema. The one he had hung in the bucket above the sling. I thought it was going to be dumped all over me, but I guess he had a better idea. Plus, I was covered with too much shit as it was.

The videotape at this point isn't very interesting to watch. There are tubes three going into me, and I gurgle and moan in the sling. Not much fun to view with a bowl of popcorn. But I remember the feeling intensely. My bowels and bladder were already agonizingly full. But I had to suck the shit mixture down the tube to keep breathing, and than turned the torture unbearable. I was a drinking machine, sucking down the runny mixture and trying to keep from puking it back up. On tape you can see my belly twice its normal size.

But you can also see my dick, hard as a rock. I faded out for a while. I think I was unconscious but I must have kept drinking, because the water level the bucket kept dropping. I think I zoned out into a state of "slave nirvana". After what seemed like a half hour, I slurped one last time, and I sucked in air. I had drunk my master's whole enema.

At the sucking sound, my master knew I was done. He released the catheter balloon and the catheter at the same time. I guess this was my reward. In a rush, my bowels emptied into a bucket and all over the floor, and I was pissing myself, and I had the most amazing orgasm I've ever had in my life. It was amazing, mostly because it wasn't really an orgasm. The mixture of relief and pressure and the pent-up feeling in my guts was like an explosion. I don't know. I didn't shoot any cum, but it felt like my whole body was draining out the bottom of the sling.

I saw stars, I shook, I cursed and swore, I think. I would have jumped out of the sling if I wasn't tied into it. I felt drained - as if all my life force was drained out of me. And come to think of it, I think it WAS. So, I just meditated a little, kind of a dozing state, and swung slowly in the sling back and forth in the darkness. I felt incredibly empty. Not just empty of fluids, but more a spiritual emptiness, like I was a shell. It was a good feeling though, as close to nirvana as I have ever come.

Then, I felt my ass fill up again. Fuck! My master was starting over! I always have a harder time taking an enema the second time. It's like my guts say, "Enough!" So I stated to yell into my gag, but it didn't help. I just filled up again to overflowing.

I took a lot more water this time. At least I thought it was water at the time. On camera later, I saw that my master used the shit I had just emptied to fill me up again. Over and over again. The cycle would start with my ass being filled, then my bladder (with fresh water only though. with maybe a little piss added when my master pissed in the catheter bucket). Then various things were poured down my throat. Sometimes piss, sometimes a shit mixture. One time it tasted like puke, another time like cooking oil. I don't know all the things he forced down my throat.

There were about six cycles of enemas total. A few times he left my bladder alone. One time, he made me hold a huge enema for over fifteen minutes while my bladder filled and emptied three times. And the whole time I was sucking down liquids, creating more piss to fill up my bladder.

I'm writing this down after the fact. To tell the truth, after the second enema, I completely lost track of reality. I didn't notice when the enemas stopped, or when the catheter was finally left open, and my dick was allowed to steadily drip drip drip. But I did notice when my master took off my gag, leaving my mouth free.

As it turned out, he wasn't doing me a favor. I felt his gloved hands pry open my teeth, and he stuffed some cold shit into mouth. Fuck, I hate it when it's cold. It must have been some left over from the floor earlier. The shit kept getting force fed into me, and I kept trying to swallow.

It turned into a sick game. Just when I thought he was done, he would come over to me with something new for me to eat. My stomach was already full from all the shit liquid and piss I had swallowed. And now this. Luckily, my master knows I have a pretty iron stomach. I don't usually puke unless it's really too much. But I guess my master than night wanted me to experience "too much".

I tasted castor oil one time, and gagged a lot on it. Then for a few minutes, he kept scooping Crisco into my mouth, which I had to swallow in order to breathe. That was tough. There was spoiled milk, and something that had the texture of oatmeal. Dog food? Baby food? Some cold soup later, I think. It's not captured very good on the video what everything was. Um, I was trying to identify each thing I tasted, and tried not to vomit.

But if I hadn't learned my lesson from the enemas in the sling that my master controlled all of my holes, I would learn that now. The last thing my master fed me was syrup of ipecac. I knew I was in trouble when I tasted the pepperminty taste, and my master stood back for the results. He took one of the slop buckets from the floor and overturned in on my head. I knew I couldn't hold out on what was to come.

After three minutes, I immediately started heaving. It's odd how it comes on in the rush. There's like two or three waves of nausea, then it's projectile vomiting time. I rode the queasiness, but when my gorge finally came up, it was like a fountain. Good thing the bucket was over my head, or it would have hit the wall across from me. As it was, the puke bounced off the metal walls of the bucket and back into my face, dripping down my beard and hairy chest.

It took over thirty minutes for all the "food" to come out of me. My throat felt like a sewage tube that I couldn't control. I just felt the half-digested slop shoot past my teeth in the gut-clenching spasm of pain. By that time I had stopped caring. My body felt like something that belonged to my master, not to me. I didn't try to stop the dry heaves, or the shit and piss that continued to flow out of my body and onto the floor. I was completely gone. Done. Done for, done with, and done in.

I don't remember my master taking my down from the sling. On tape it actually looks quite touching as he undid all the tubes and hoses and untied me. Then, he picked me up and set me on the floor. Ok, that part wasn't too romantic. he laid me down right on the concrete under the sling. I spent the night in that pool of shit vomit, piss, and who knows what else. But didn't mind. I was so happy to be out of the sling, I slept like a baby. A shit-covered baby. Maybe it was more like passing out than sleeping, but I didn't think of anything more until the next morning.