Doggy Inside And Out
by Mudcub
stories@mudcub.com
Master welded the stocks Himself. It took Him a few tries to get it right. But now the frame works perfectly.
It holds me in a kneeling position on all fours. Thick metal cuffs hold my hands down to the ground, with a rigid iron bar keeping them about two feet apart. The same this goes for my legs? my ankles are stretched by a spreader bar, and then another bar keeps my knees immobile. Another bar is welded to connect the arms, legs, and knees together so I can't get up from my dog-like position. In fact, I can't move much at all.
There's an optional support which goes around my chest - on sort of a pole that screws into the base below me. Another pole lifts up my head by means of an iron collar locked around my neck. With both of those pieces in place, I can't move my head neither up nor down, and a leather strap over my forehead makes sure I can't turn it left or right.
Sometimes I have a gag in, especially when Master whips or canes me while I'm in the stocks. But today my mouth is free? I can move my jaw up and down, but that's about the only part that has a range of motion. Maybe I can curl my toes or flex my fingers. I could say something to the Master stand above me, but I (wisely) decide to keep my mouth shut.
The hardest part of the morning was finding enough bags. The dog park near my house has nineteen garbage cans. The city's sanitation crew comes by before dawn to empty 'em out. That's why I was up at 3 am to grab all the bags of trash before they could clean up. I bet they were surprised when they started their morning shift and all the garbage cans were already empty!
I wore my dirtiest coveralls for the task. It was a cloudy night, and I knew nobody was going to be around at 3 am, but I was still nervous. I wore an orange safety vest. In my dirt-stained clothes and old work boots, I hoped anybody that saw me thought I was one of the park and rec crew getting an early start.
My truck didn't look right? it's way too beat up to pass for a city vehicle. So, I moved fast as I parked my truck close to the first garbage can, and put on a pair of leather gloves. In a flash, I opened the garbage can, and threw the thick plastic bag into the bed of my pickup truck. Eighteen more stops, and soon the back of my truck was filled with the entire contents of the the park's trash.
To be on the safe side, I hit a second public park across town. This park is smaller, with only ten garbage cans. But I hoped those ten plastic bags would yield a lot more stuff, because that neighborhood surrounding the park had a lot more apartment buildings, and therefore a lot more dogs. Because that's what I was in search of last evening? dog shit. And lots of it.
I could have sorted through all the trash bags in my garage. That would have kept the smell out of my house, and would have had a lot more room to do the sorting. But Master was very specific. I was to strip naked, open each bag, and dump the contents onto my living room floor. Luckily, I live alone. But I didn't relish what my living room would probably look like for the next few weeks, until Master gave me permission to clean everything up. But I did as I was told.
I steeled myself and ripped open the first large garbage bag, and upturned it to spill out all over my carpet. I can't describe the smell - it was really awful. Some of that garbage had probably been thrown out early yesterday afternoon, and as such, had been fermenting in the summer sun all day. Tons of stuff fell out of the bag - paper wrappers, leaves and grass, bags within bags, and worst of all, about four cups of some unidentifiable black liquid that poured out of the bag into a puddle on my floor.
There were a lot of food scraps. Probably left over from picnics, or from people eating in the park over their lunch hour. In the past, Master has made me eat some of the leftover food from the trash. He says that is a good reminder that I am a pig - fit for nothing but rooting around the scraps left by my betters. But this morning, I was told to ignore the rotten food smeared all over my living room carpet, and to gather all the small plastic bags I could.
Years ago, you could easily find dog turds all over the park. And if you look, you still can. But most owners nowadays are trained to pick up their dog's shit and throw it away in a plastic bag. It was these small bags I was searching for. And there they are? knotted up once or twice, the contents safely stored away before they could be disposed.
I wished I was given permission to wear rubber gloves for this task, but Master was very specific: I was to do everything barehanded, and not to wash up before coming over to His dungeon later that day. I found the first small plastic bag - which looked like the kind newspapers used to come wrapped in - and I tore it open exposing the dog shit inside.
There's something weird about the smell of dog shit. I think that the human nose instantly knows that it's something alien, something different than human shit. It has an almost spicy stink to it, like pepper. I think it's more pungent than human shit? which is why it's so noticeable when you step in it. The stench of dog shit hangs in the air almost like a warning. And I knew I would become really familiar with that smell before the day was out.
This dog turd was small? almost like little pellets. I cursed my luck. I hated to think about what kind of tiny fucking Pekinese or Chihuahua produced these little turdballs. I didn't like this idea of touching the shit from some little lapdog. At least if it was the shit from some big Rottweiler or Great Dane it would be ok. Macho almost. But I was stuck with whatever the garbage offered me that day.
I had two big orange five gallon plastic buckets that I was supposed to fill. So I got to work. There were tons of little plastic bags in the first garbage sack I opened up. A bonanza! It must be because it was the weekend and everyone had walked their dogs to the park yesterday. The turds were all different - some were huge, some small. Some were rock hard, while others were more of a liquid slurry that I had to squish out of their bags like toothpaste. A lot of them had grass stuck to them, as if their owner had to pick up the turds from the park lawn. But they all had that same spicy strong stink, and soon my entire house was filled with the unforgettable smell of a bucket of dog shit.
I swear some of the turds were still warm. I'd like to say that the job got easier as I spilled the entire contents of the second large garbage bag onto my floor? but if anything the job got harder and harder. Soon, my hands are covered in dog shit during the process of transferring every single bit of dogshit from their plastic bags into the bucket. I almost puked a few times.
It took about three hours to sort through all twenty-two garbage bags. By the end of it, there were mounds of trash all over my living room floor, as if my house was on an episode of the "Hoarders" tv show. The air smelled like dog shit and rotting food. I wondered how long Master would order me to keep my house this way. A week? Two? Would I be forced to live in a house full of garbage for the next month? the trash fermenting and smelling worse and worse each day? I didn't know, but I knew it would be foul.
Master says that I am a pig, so I should learn to live like one. That explains the garbage which filled my living room, that I would notice every time I opened my front door for the next few weeks. And it explained why I now drove across town with two five gallon drums full of dogshit - the lids securely fastened to the top of each bucket. I wasn't quite sure what Master had planned for that afternoon, but was bursting with excitement and a high libido.
The stocks are kind of comfortable, actually. I hate saying that, because after a while, my muscles grow stiff and irritated at being held in one position for so long in the metal bonds. But there is something comforting in being on all fours for me. Maybe I've been Master's pig for long enough now that I've gotten used to crawling around on the ground every time I am lucky enough to serve Him in His dungeon.
Whether it's licking Master's boots, or being fucked in the ass by Him, I always have to be at ground level when I am in His house. And naked, too. When I show up at His front door, He allows me two steps in His house to close the door behind me, and then I am to strip, folding my clothes neatly in a pile on the welcome mat. Then, to make the entrance complete, I am to drop to all fours, my forehead on the ground, and make a proper obeisance to thank Him for allowing me to serve that day.
Sometimes, Master makes me suck His dick or lick His hairy asshole even before I enter the rest of the house. But today, He has other plans, and picks up the buckets full of dog shit and tells me to follow Him and crawl into the dungeon.
It didn't take long for Him top secure me in the stocks. He hit me four or five times spanking me with His hand - hard - to judge how far I could squirm. Which wasn't far. I just let out a few yells and wriggled my toes a bit. But I couldn't move my ass out of the way, thanks to the metal bars holding my chest and knees in place. That way, Master knew I was ready.
I couldn't move my head to see what Master was doing behind me. But I knew when He opened up one of the buckets of dog shit, because the stink instantly filled the small space of the basement dungeon. Whew! Grunted Master. I was glad I was able to find enough shit to fill one of the buckets all the way, and the other half-full. I knew that I would be severely punished if I had shown up to His dungeon empty-handed. When Master saw the state of my shit-smeared hands, He knew that I had done my job properly without gloves, too.
As if I couldn't smell the rancid stink of the dogshit enough, Master put one of the buckets on the floor in front of me - the bucket that was half-full. I could look down and see the huge handfuls of crap I had collected. All sorts of colors - from brown to greenish-looking to yellow. I didn't want to think what was wrong with the dogs that had yellow shit. I hoped it didn't have worms.
Master had slipped on a pair of rubber gloves, and set down the second full bucket behind me, opening it up. I could see what He was doing? but I soon felt it. With no warning, one of His fingers went up my asshole. If felt cold and wet, and I didn't know what it was at first, but then I soon figured it out. Master had lubed up his finger with a generous scoops of dogshit from the bucket, before plunging it up my asshole.
I was shocked, and I could feel my asshole clench up suddenly, like it was trying to force the intruder out. But Master chucked. He knows how to work my ass. He just moved his finger in and out slowly? occasionally pulling out completely to swirl his digit into a mass of soft dogshit before shoving it in again.
In and out, in and out, the pace was mesmerizing. And before I knew it, I felt my dick getting rock hard. Yeah, I'm such an ass pig. I hate to admit it, but the way to my heart is through my colon. I felt myself relaxing, submitting to Master's fingers. First one, and then two. I felt him scoop him a small handful of clay-like shit, and work it up my ass. He was opening my butthole up wider and wider, until he could slide four fingers in easily.
The smell from the shit bucket under my nose was making me heady. I don't know if it was the methane, or a lack of oxygen, but I soon found myself flying as if I was on poppers. My dick was starting to drool pre-cum, and I was finding everything really erotic. I couldn't believe how filthy and depraved I was. My body locked in the unforgiving stocks My hands brown from my morning labors. My asshole opened wide to accept more and more fingers, more and more shit.
When Master decided I had had enough, he dug in the bucket with his gloved hands to find some harder turds. He started to insert these one at a time, popping them in. Soon, I was really full, and my stomach was starting to distend down to the ground. When Master thought there wasn't any more room, He went and got a butt plug from the tools hanging on the wall of His dungeon.
It's an interesting plug, because it's attached to a harness. The harness is like a jock strap on backwards. A heavy leather plate goes up my asscrack, holding the plug in place. Meanwhile, two leather straps go around my thighs, meeting up over my hips. Since I was restrained so heavily in the stocks, there was no way I could shit out the plug until Master undid the straps. Suddenly, the plug felt very large in my ass, and the huge mass of dogshit I was storing in my rectum was pressing on it trying to get out.
With my ass full, Master walked around to my face. I was so horny that I hoped He would pull out His dick and roughly fuck my face, forcing me to give Him a blow job in the condition I was in. But to no avail. Master was all about getting the job done. He stuck his now-filthy rubber glove into the half-filled bucket in front of me, and gave it a stir. He pulled out a handful of mostly soft shit, and with a gleam in His eye, told me to open my mouth.
Two fingers went into my mouth, smearing shit on my tongue. I almost puked right then. If you've never tried it, then I have to explain that dogshit is really gritty. It doesn't taste like it smells. Maybe it tastes worse. I always thought it tasted like whatever the dog was eating - usually a strange barley-like flavor of grain and dog kibble. It tastes like awful sand, a semi-digested paste of hard bits and gooey runny phlegm.
I think the texture is the worst. And my face curled into disgust as Master ran His gloved fingers under my tongue, inside my gloves, all over my teeth, He scraped up more shit from the bucket, and made sure that my mouth was entirely full of dog shit - every crack and crevice of my gums and cheeks bursting with lumps of now-cold stinking filth.
And then Master said, "Swallow".
That was the worst part. It's one thing to have a mouthful of shit, but quite another to choke it down. Maybe in the back of my mind, I thought He might allow me to spit out the huge mouthful. Maybe unlock me from the stocks, and give me permission to rinse out my mouth, spitting the remained into the toilet bowl, gagging until tears were in my eyes. But that was not to happen.
I knew what Master wanted. He wanted me filled from both ends, and He wasn't going to happy until my stomach was complete full of dogshit the way my ass was. That was His plan for today. To have me stuffed with all the sludge I had brought. To turn me inside and out into a living dogturd - proof that I wasn't even human, not after today. I thought about this and got turned on. I think the fact that my dick was throbbing and begging to be touched was the only reason I was able to swallow again and again.
Another handful and then another. Master and I got into a rhythm. Sometimes He would make me swallow a hard dog turd whole. Other times, He would order me to chew it up and mix it with my saliva. I had to open my mouth and show Him I had turned it into a runny paste before He allowed me to swallow it down.
I started to get very full before the bucket was even half empty. I figured I had eaten a full gallon of shit. A few times, I started to puke, but I managed to keep my mouth shut. I coughed up some burning bile from my stomach, but gulped it back down, before opening my mouth obediently for more hand-fed shit.
Master told me what a good pig I was becoming. What a good dog. That if you are what you eat, then I was 100% dog shit. Master took a finger full of shit and stuffed it up my nose. Another handful smeared my mustache below my nose so all could smell was dog. Great globs of muck were worked into my beard and the hair on my head. He smeared my entire face and neck, and then went and got a latex hood from His supplies.
He explained how this would work. He was going to fill my mouth completely with dogshit one last time. He wanted my cheeks to be bulging - sticking out from my face like a chipmunk. But this time, I wasn't supposed to swallow. He was going to put the rubber hood on me so I couldn't spit any of the crap out. But after a few hours, he was going to check my mouth. if I didn't have a huge mouthful left, there would be hell to pay. This way, He told me, I would be forced to experience the full flavor of the gritty shit on my tongue as it slowly dissolved and turned into a dogshit soup in my mouth.
Master made sure my head was entirely covered in brown muck before slipping the hood on. The rubber hood has nose holes, but no eyes or mouth. I panicked for a second as the hood went on, since my nose was full of shit, and that was the only way I could breathe. I almost spit out all the sludge in my mouth to get air, but realized that if I snorted down the shit that was in my nostrils, I could breathe. Master situated the rubber hood in place, and soon I was wheezing and puffing enough oxygen to live for a while.
Master took the rest of the dogshit that was in the buckets, and started rubber my body with it. This felt good, like a massage with cold clay. As long as I didn't think too hard about what was covering every inch of my body, I was all right. And Master was thorough - He made sure to rub a thick layer of shit between my toes, into my armpits, all over my balls.
It felt so amazing when Master started to stroke my dick with a clammy handful of shit that I almost came. But He was talented, and knew when to stop. Instead, He unbuckled the harness around my waist at let the buttplug pop out. I am embarrassed to say that I had no control over my bowels - I started to shit out a river of dogshit the second the plug was free.
But Master was patient, and just shoved the turds back in. Four fingers pushed in, and my ass pushed back against him even though I tried to relax. It wasn't until he went and got a long dildo that I was able to hold the dogshit in my ass. Master popped some large turds into my asshole, then used the dildo as a "stirring stick" to push the crap as far up my ass as it could go. Then several more turds, then the stick.
Master repeated this process until I had twice as much shit in my ass as before. Now I was incredibly full - I bet I weighed twenty pounds heavier than when I did that morning. My mouth was completely full of a runny mixture of dogshit and puke, my stomach was full from my huge dogshit lunch earlier. And now, the buttplug and harness was fastened once again into my ass, and I knew it would remain there for a long time to come.
I was held in serious metal bondage, my body completely smeared head to toe in shit. A rubber hood blinding me, holding a thick layer of shit close to my face. All I could smell was the rank stench of dogshit - all kinds from all breeds. I knew what it was like to be a living dog turd, and my dick throbbed at the thought, dripping a steady stream of pre-cum onto the platform beneath me.
I was left in that position for a long time - don't know how long. I have never smelled to bad in my life? my pores soaking up the stink and staining my skin brown. Later that night, Master would release me and allow me to stand up for the first time in hours. Then, he would make me crawl into a full rubber catsuit that would hold the buttplug even more securely in place. The rubber catsuit was full of the last of the sludge from the buckets - Master rinsed the buckets out with His piss, and some old bottles of piss He had saved up for days, and poured the whole mixture into the suit for me to slide into.
Master pulled my chin out from under the rubber hood and checked to make sure I still had a full mouth of slop - that I was obeying Him. He made me stay in that catsuit for several hours until it was time for bed. He gave one last command, "Swallow", and then allowed me lay on the floor of the dungeon to sleep.
From the outside, I looked clean, an the average gimp in a shiny black rubber suit. But I stunk to high heaven, smeared on the inside with eight gallons of dogshit. As I slept, my body was digesting my huge gut full of crap. In the morning the plug would come out, followed by ass load of dogshit I was warming all night in my intestines. That, of course, would be my breakfast to start the day, followed - if I was lucky - by Master's shit directly from His ass.
We would repeat this training session several times over the next few years. Sometimes dogshit, sometimes horse or cow. If I was lucky, Master would save His own shit, and the shit of His friends, or I would be ordered to raid an outhouse on a nearby construction site. But I was always fed from both ends, and Master wasn't happy until I had a full stomach, a full ass, and a full mouth.