Roughneck

Roughneck

by Brownluster

I have travelled many places in the world, but I was drawn back to the USA time and time again. I had friends in North Carolina in a very rural part of the State, with sparse farms and homes strung out along the country roads, often in the depths of the pine forests and streams that populate that region. So it was on a visit recently I had a strange, but most dirty, life changing experience.

The friends I have, also have a close friend of theirs who repairs furniture. I have always enjoyed the times they took me to visit him as I am overwhelmed by the skill he has in restoring bashed up old pieces, sometimes over one hundred years old. Recently, his wife got religion and declared that as he did not believe in what she did, he was going to hell. Nice lady! Anyway, it is leading to divorce and he is not feeling so great. We visited this last trip and he seemed grateful to talk with me. I am like that: what you see is what you get, and sometimes I can help people by not saying a word but allowing them to go through their problems by just talking to a willing listener. He had a roughneck friend visiting at the same time. This guy was about my height but a good ten years younger than me. He was quite rough in his clothing too but I put that down to his probably being in farming where nice clothes are a definite no no. He hardly spoke but held me is his gaze a lot more than normal. Okay, I am an adonis. Laugh, that one! I am a very ordinary guy in his early sixties who shaves his head to get rid of the sight of the greying hair. Actually I shave or cream off every bit of body hair I can. Perhaps it is a fetish, but I find myself feeling liberated every time the hair is removed to reveal the smooth skin beneath. Only problem is that the hair never takes the hint, and comes back. Oh for the riches to have it all removed permanently ! I do not have a big throbbing cock. Mine is small, but swells to a decent size when handled properly and certainly enough to give a satisfying fuck. Personally, cocks are not that important to me. Arses are much more my focus of attention but more of that later.

So, when I had an invite to visit the furniture man alone over night, I naturally assumed it was so he could drink and spill out his troubles and feel a lot better for it. I did not mind. I am a good soul that way. So my friends dropped me off at his place where he repairs furniture and he greeted me with a smile at the door. "Come in," he said and immediately settled me in an armchair in the lounge whilst he scuttled off to get two beers. We chatted and drank the beer but I began to feel he was uneasy about something. When one silence had become a bit over long, and his talk had been punctuated by a few nervous errs, I asked if he was okay. "Well, Seb, " ( that's my name: Sebastiane really but I hate the full name being used ). "I have to own up to something. I have got you over here because my buddy Nick, who you met the other day, would like to get to know you. Says you and he may have something in common and perhaps you'd like to stay over at his place." He explained that my friends did not approve of Nick because of his dirty ways and dress. I was intrigued. This was why Nick had asked him to arrange things as a middle man. Fortunately I am quite a laid back type of guy and the fact this guy, who did not know me at all, thought we had things in common, made me wonder rather than get angry at being duped. "You don't have to go if you don't want. And if you feel a problem coming on just call me and I'll pick you up straight away." This was important because I do not drive but somehow, I expected no problems at all.

The Furniture Guy drove me over to Nick's place after we finished our beers. Nick had a cabin ( mind you it was anything but a rustic one room affair ) along a long track deep into the woods. You could easily stage a horror film in such a location where it is so isolated. Furniture Guy let me out and waited till he saw the cabin door open, and then drove away. I was left in the hands of a guy I did not know, who wanted I know not what !

The vision which greeted me at the door was bizarre to say the least. Admitted, it was a really hot day, and the humidity was off the scale, but here Nick was, dressed in just vest and underpants and long socks of thick brown wool. His vest, cut off at the shoulder, was stained with sweat marks and obviously had not been washed in months. His underwear, Y fronts, once may have been pure white but now the front was stained yellow from piss and precum leaking from his cock. Was I shocked? Fuck, no. I grinned and he returned my grin and walked ahead of me into his home. I followed, noting the tram lines which figured distinctly on the back of his pants. He led the way into a den; a room totally cluttered with 'stuff' so that there was hardly any room for the leather two man sofa, side tables and mini fridge. On one wall was a giant screen TV with much in the way of electronics underneath. I knew some of the gear but not all. It was even hotter in the den.

Nick suggested, whilst getting two beers from the mini fridge, I would be more comfortable with less on. I normally do not wear underwear and playfully suggested he might provide me with some of his gear ( we were about the same build ) thinking I might just have to strip off altogether. Yet he took me at my word and disappeared off to another room returning with an equally stained set of vest and pants. Did he ever do laundry ?? He also brought an identical pair of long brown woollen socks. "Humour me Seb. Put these on too." I turned away and stripped off my shorts, teeshirt, socks and trainers and donned the stuff he proffered. He obviously could ogle my backside but he could wait for anything else. The feel of another guy's underwear is a sensuous act when you pull the garments over your own skin. The vest felt smooth to the touch but smelled of Nick's dried sweat. His underpants slipped easily over my cock and balls and I felt a slight dampness against my skin which told me he had soiled them not too long ago. The smell was of old piss and shit and a very attractive aroma to me. The long socks were a little itchy, being wool, as they clamped on my thighs and legs and I wondered why caramel brown. Quite an unusual colour for socks. I guessed but I am not one to assume; too many mistakes made doing that in the past.

Nick seemed pleased when I turned back now rigged out in his soiled clothing. He indicated the sofa and we both sat next to each other and drank the bottled beer. After four beers each, he replenished the mini fridge and started talking more. "You're game to wear my stuff Seb. Its like looking at my twin." In fact we looked alike when dressed the same. We both favoured a cleanly shaven face. I noted his arms and legs were, like mine, either naturally smooth or shaved/creamed smooth. I had not noticed until I donned his vest that both his and mine had nip holes cut in them showing off our dark brown nipples. It was quite a turn on. I favoured a skinhead look; my head wet shaved to a shiny smoothness, whereas he had a mohican, the rest of his scalp equally smooth as mine. I was attracted and could feel my cock swell and thicken and bulging in my underpants. I noted his must be doing the same although a thick bulge ran upwards in his pants and his mushroom must have been beginning to pop from beneath the pant's band as even his vest was bulging at that point now. And yet we just talked.

We went through our histories. Mine was relatively simple. Born and bred in England, I had married a guy but, our sexual desires changing over time, we had agreed on an open relationship. His was more colourful. Father died when he was eight years old and his mother, possibly from never ending grief and increasing poverty, committed suicide when Nick was eighteen, leaving him and five siblings without a home. The wider family tried to help and Nick had been farmed out to a single uncle, a younger brother to his Mum. The uncle had taught him a lot about how to accept his own body and desires whatever society had thought. A dutiful gay uncle for a change it seems. What else his uncle taught Nick did not say, but there was the suggestion that some lessons were practical. So Nick had emerged into full adulthood totally in touch with his own desires and exploring his. His uncle was gay and had many friends into extreme kinks so Nick had many teachers so as not to make mistakes. Nick's uncle passed away and it was not until then that Nick found out how rich he was and that he had left it all to Nick as his sort of adopted son. Nick, therefore, did not have to work for the rest of his life and could indulge himself in anything he liked.

We were quite at ease now what with the beer and the openness. Nick asked, with a slight raise of his eyebrow, if I were a member of any online gay sites. Of course I was but how far should I open up about my more perverted desires? I told him about several gay video sites, one of which tended more towards the shit side of sex but I did not actually say that. However he knew the site and said straight away, "There's some great dirty vids on that site." What could I say; I agreed and remarked that he must like that area himself. "Oh Yea my friend, I like things dirty and wet, with olive oil covered bods. I have seen your face on one site you know." He left the remark hanging. "Oh yeah? On what site?" "On Scatboi Seb. I loved the pic of the lumpy hard turd in your mouth." Okay, I was a bit gobsmacked. I had been a member of Scatboi a number of years and although some members had shown a kind interest, I had not exactly been inundated with offers of sessions in my time. That I had missed his viewing stumped me. "Oh" was what came out my gob and then a stammered "I don't remember your face from any interested in me." "Well, my boi, that's because I wear a mask in my facepics and I put my location a little aways from here so nosey heteros, seeking a quick gay wank, won't recognise me. However I lusted after you and could not believe my eyes when I saw you this week." He leaned over and drank in the sweaty smell of my borrowed vest and licked my neck which was also bathed in sweat, it being like a furnace in the room now. I found my tongue licking his filthy neck too while I ran my fingers through his mohican hair. Soon our mouths were glued to each other as we drank in each other's mouth juices; our tongues pushing this way and that into each other's throats. Nick suddenly ran his hand under my vest and into my pants seeking my cock. It was already slimey with precum which he coated his fingers with and sucked with his pursed lips. Then he reached the same hand behind his body, and when it reappeared his fingers were brown. He must have stroked his shit caked hole and brought forth honey from the beautiful orifice. I yearned to explore his hole but first I was treated to the contents of his fingers as he jammed his hand into my throat. I managed to close my mouth on his hand, and, as he slowly withdrew it, I sucked the candy from his fingers. Fuck but the taste was everything you'd wish from a man's arse. This shit load was smooth and loose and tasty as heck. The consistency was that of sludge, with a slight gritty quality that gave it an edge. I took a long time to savour its feel and taste in my mouth before swallowing. I have often thought it would be great to have a group turd tasting. There is so much difference between a group of men's individual shit, and even one man's turds can vary according to what he eats. It would be like the tasting of gourmet foods; their piss like fine wines. Just a fantasy I suppose but a lovely thought.

Nick had been intently watching my reaction to his shoving shit into my mouth. He seemed satisfied I was not just a cock wanking voyeur of shit play, but a true player with whom he could enjoy hours of being a turd whore. He roughly ripped the vest from my body and I responded, yanking off his as we kissed again, no longer with anything separating our flesh; our hands exploring each other's upper bodies. I reached down his now naked, glistening back to his pants and on down into the depths of his arse crack. The tactile feel of his shit spread between his buns plastered my hand instantly and I withdrew it brown covered which I rubbed first over my face and head and then over his. All the time I tried to pass a turd into my pants and as it eased from my hole I clenched my butt muscles to spread its beautiful essence and smell over my crack. Smelling the unique aroma of freshly exposed turd, Nick duplicated my action, passing his hand down my back and into my pants. As a fisherman landing his catch, his hand came away as brown as mine, and, after savouring the taste of two fingers worth, he also spread the manure over his head and mine. Our shit combined in a mud slide of sweat and turd as the heat of the room was made even more intense by our gyrations in our desperate need for each other's filth.

I think even at this stage, barely an hour after I stepped into Nick's home, we would do anything, however extreme, however taboo, to each other !

We paused. Looking at our now soiled faces and the riverlets of shit dripping down our torsos we needed a better place to play. Nick led the way to a small door leading off the hall and down into the netherworld which was his basement. A number of rooms encompassing the whole area of the house above, this consisted not only of a boiler room but also a toilet/shower area and a large main space. The whole floor of the large room was treated with a thick rubber coating making it all available as a play room. The walls were lined with shelves holding practically every toy you could think of for sexual gratification and mutual pleasure. There were instruments I had no idea the function of but they looked intriguing. There was whole casks of what appeared to be olive oil, bottles of piss, a fridge freezer which when opened contained both frozen and fresh turds. The collection must have dated back months or did he farm ? There was a leather sling and a rubber sheeted bed of a size to take four guys at a time. Through the opening ( no door ) to the toilet area, the room stank of shit and urine, its walls and floor covered in brown sludge. Heck, even the ceiling had brown shit daubed across it ! The two toilets, side by side, were coated inside and out with shit and only the shower tray seemed to be, in any way, clean. "Quite a playroom Nick." I said taking it all in. "It's our heaven, or should that be hell, [ he laughed ] for the next day till you return to Vanilla-ville." He stood fingering his cock through his pants. You could almost see the saliva dripping from his lips in expectation of my arse. And, fuck, I was thinking the same.

But I would also come to know his other taboo obsession: pain. He walked over and grabbed my cock through my now soiled pants. Now I have said my cock is not large but it was excelling at present in swollen thickness and length. It could have been in a vacuum pump. Pulling down my pants and throwing them across the room, where they stuck to the wall from the shit spread on them, he grabbed my cock and balls again in a vice like grip. I winced as he crushed my balls but he just grinned. Pulling me across the room by my balls, he pushed me down on my back on the bed. This was somewhat higher than most sleeping beds and allowed him to manipulate my genitals without having to bend excessively. He rose and crossed the room to the fridge where he grabbed an ice-cream tub filled to the brim with emulsified turds. As he opened the lid the smell all but knocked you out. He placed it on the bed beside me and went back to the shelves. Here he selected some ordinary, rough fibred, cord or string, several clothes pegs and a case made of leather. Like a surgeon laying out his instruments, he laid them out in a line by my waiting body. I tried to bend forward to remove my socks but he pushed me back. "No, Seb, the socks stay on both of us. Its a real kink of mine."

First, he daubed my cock, balls, under passage and upper legs with shit from the tub. He worked with his hands like a potter moulding clay into his subject only here it was shit into my every crevice and surface. My whole genital area was light tan from a lighter coloured turd mix. It was then I realised not only why the socks were chosen to match this shit but also that various tubs were different shades of brown, each awaiting its own time for sexual use. He saw the realisation on my face and said. " I collect my own turds and those of playmates and grade them by colour. Sometimes the donors do not even have sex with me. I trawl the truck stops getting donations in payment for fucks or sucks, or even a simple kiss. Sometimes when guys come here who are just friends, the malfunctioning toilet flush ( deliberately sabotaged by Nick ) means that their turds are left as floaters when they leave, making them unintentional donors to my collection. I collect, sort, grade, and liquidise by colour. Only my own turds do I freeze as turds for 'other' purposes." He grinned again in a knowing way. " Makes a change from collecting stamps." Obviously I would discover that purpose very soon.

He now selected two cord. These were rough, course, thick string. one of which he looped and threaded like a noose and lassooed my balls so both were within its circle. He then tightened the string till it cut tight around my balls. It was uncomfortable but not unduly painful. He then pulled tighter and I yelped. Now, he threaded the string around each ball in turn, spreading them apart and again tightened the resulting loops. Twice he did this and my balls, constricted by the chords, turned first red and then red-purple. He tied off a knot to keep them that way and gave me poppers to help with the pain. They enhanced my 'enjoyment?' and gradually I sensed that threshold crossed when pain inflicted becomes ecstasy. I felt my balls, now harder than they have ever been, and marvelled at how good it felt. Then it was my cock's turn. The shaft had swelled to an inch and half in diameter and 6.5 inches in length. My cock is cut and the mushroom head is broad. He considered a moment and then began winding the free ends of the cord around its base. He was, in effect, creating a very tight cock ring, allowing my erection to be maintained without artificial enhancements. When finished, he tied off the ends in a knot and cut the free strands with an extremely sharp knife he laid by my side. My cock and balls were now trussed like an expert.

Removing his now soaked pants, he revealed his own cock and balls. His balls were large and low hanging, a by product of his self torture over many years it seemed. His cut cock was a glistening pole of 11.5 inches in erection, slightly less thick than mine and hooked as it went from base to tip; a very handy shape for deep fucking pleasure giving. He coated his own midriff with shit. Without pausing he picked up the other cord and expertly looped it over his own ball sack as I watched. His actions produced a similar result to mine, though even tighter, so his balls were a darker shade of red-purple and separated a little wider than mine so a definite crack could be seen in between them. His own cock he strapped further up than mine but still leaving 9.5 inches of bare cock flesh tinged a light red colour. He stroked his finished work with more shit and then did the same with mine. When satisfied, he cupped each of my balls in turn and squeezed. I yelled with the sudden pain. "Yell all you like Seb, this room is soundproofed and anyway we are deep in the woods. No one will hear. Enjoy the pain we give each other as a gift; sado-masochistic love as it were." He handled my balls like this till I stopped yelping and then came close so I could give him my sadist love. I grasped his balls. They were as hard as stone, as though each had been hard boiled and baked in the fire. I loved the winces which crossed his face as I pressured each ball harder and harder. I then grabbed his cock stem and eased my fist around it as though to make him cum but with a grip tightening as it slipped ever so slowly up his penile column. He smiled and withdrew. "Well Seb, it appears you are as much a shit sadist as me. Well well, what a surprise and I thought you were some soft limey pussy from across the pond. Let's see if you like my other tools as much."

With that he opened the leather case to reveal a set of sounds. Selecting a moderately thin one, he amply lubed the pole and manipulated my mushroom head till the piss slit was forced apart. He then fed the sound down into my cock. The deeper it went, the more pressure from my basal strapping. When it was mostly within my cock, he stopped, leaving the end showing. I had never done urethral sounding but was enjoying the feel of the metal pole within my body. Lifting one foot to the bed, he selected a thicker instrument and inserted it slowly into his own cock. It was obvious the supreme pleasure this gave him. When he felt it was deep enough, he stopped, stepped around the bed, and planted a sucking kiss on my lips; the first tender act in over an hour. Then he told me to withdraw the pole from my own cock and, as I did, he withdrew his at the same time. I laid my instrument aside but he took his and again eased it this time into my cock, training my piss slit to accept a larger size. He then selected an even larger pole, again lubed it well, and inserted it into his own cock. This was repeated, twice more till I could not take any larger rod. Nick then retrieved a longer, double ended, rod from his case the same size as the largest girth I had been able to take. He eased it into my cock leaving half showing. he then got onto the bed and positioned himself so he could ease the other end into his own cock. He pushed on down its length until our cock heads met; the rod now docking his body with mine. Fuck but it was an awesome sensation. He was pleased. As a beginner apparently I had excelled and I knew that sounding would feature heavily in my future sexual gratification.

There were two hooks above the bed from which he now hung chains, the lower ends having leather securing straps. These he tied round my ankles and hauled my feet and legs into the air as though I was in a sling. He tightened off the chains and pulled forward my arse so the arse hole was exposed to his close inspection. My arse was in his face and he deep rimmed my now shit covered hole, forcing his tongue into it and sucking shit into his mouth. I relaxed and after another snifter of poppers, pushed out so he could penetrate even deeper into the abyss. He moaned with pleasure as another turd protruded from my arse. Sucking it between his lips he chewed the end of this firm nobbly shit, savouring the exquisite taste which only shit can give to an eater. Then he lip fucked what was already out of my hole, as if it were an ice lolly, and he, an over excited kid. Finally, having softened the surface of the turd he pulled the remainder from my arse by clamping his lips around the turd and then quickly taking the whole thing into his mouth to chew. He came to my head and shitkissed my open mouth, feeding me some of my own shit. Our kiss was passionate in the extreme; our sharing of excrement as if between soul mates.

Nick then returned to the foot of the bed and my arse. He retrieved a speculum from yet another shelf and inserted its cold metal into my arse. with great slowness he operated the instrument till my hole gaped wide showing the inside of my arse. Aiming his engorged cock at the black hole. he sent a stream of hot piss into my arse. As it filled a waterfall of urine and shit cascaded from my hole, like a river newly made, across the rubber sheet on the bed and so onto the floor below. It soaked Nicks socks as he stood near enough that the yellow brown liquid washed over his lower legs and seeped through the brown wool of the sports socks.

Nick released the speculum's hold on my arse. As the instrument's grasp on my body shrank, he clenched his right hand and twisted its width through the gap between stainless steel and flesh. The fist penetrated my rectum and my arse lip muscles held his wrist as he flexed his hand within me, knowing it was coated now with all the filth that made us love what we do. He eased it deeper using the shit from the tub as lube in place of crisco; working ever inward. I was no novice in FF and so his efforts were rewarded by most of his lower arm's length sinking into my body. His cock responded to the excitement of bodily invasion to tighten in its bonds swelling within its tight cord embrace and turning a darker shade. It wanted satisfaction. It had to wait. Nick forced his arm in up to the elbow as I moaned and gasped in desire. This was not like some ordinary fisting where the bottom runs screaming back to his enemas and douche if a single grain of shit is revealed. This was a brutal shit fisting where the texture was gritty and the threshold between pain and pleasure become blurred. The depth was something I had not experienced before but the intimacy of the bond being established between Nick and me overcame everything. It was like conceiving, only far more intense. When he withdrew, the shit mixing with drools of jelly like sinews, I felt as though my life had changed forever. I only wanted this guy in my life. I knew I would not return to my old life, country, partner or anything that preceded that moment in time. He seemed to realise that too for himself because his eyes bulged wide and he grasped my legs in an iron grip as his taut, rigid, throbbing and now purple cock rammed hard into my arse. Slicked by a never ending supply of shit, without and within, his cock pumped my hole, spreading it to accept both his girth and his length. He sank his cock to the balls in my shit hole and then repeatedly thrust and withdrew, tantalising my arse with its power. When he came it was a torrent that even a fire hose could not match. In went gallons of cum, pumping on and on till collapse. My cock shot its load over my lover's face and he bent to lick and suck what was left on my head and shaft.

Was this the finale? No. He had one more kink to show me. Peeling the now sodden sock from his left foot, Nick sat upon a wooden chair and levered his leg up on to the bed. Bending like a ballet dancer in action, he coated his foot with more shit and lube and prodded my arse hole with his toes. My hole, now extended by instrument, fist and cock, opened to his touch and gradually his foot started to be swallowed by my gaping orifice. I have never been foot fisted before and the feeling was so different from a hand. Nick's feet, unlike his monster cock, were relatively narrow and rated around a 9 in European shoe size. He worked his toes to make my hole accept more and more of the rest of the foot till, with a plop, his heel disappeared completely and his foot was wholly contained within my rectum. I damn near screamed and it took rapid and repeated poppers to even stand the pressure on the inner walls of my arse. However he just sat there without moving, letting my body recover from the shock of invasion. And there was, indeed, panic to overcome. How many of you who read this have had a time, even if only a single instance, when in your lust you have had something shoved in your hole which you feared could not be withdrawn without surgery?

But Nick was a professional. He was confident and controlled and by the merest flick of his foot he angled it again to withdraw from its locked position. Again with a plop his heel reappeared and then rapidly his whole foot, now coated with my filth. He raised the leg to slime the foot's coating over my still raised legs, smoothing them as if in a massage with his shit covered foot.

We stilled. The exertions had lasted most of the evening and half the night. He released my from my chains but not from my bindings. Neither did he unbind himself. He lay at my side holding me in his arms as our bodies massaged the build up of shit, piss and lube between them. We were shit partners now. "Don't leave Seb." He said. "Be mine and we will shit our way through the rest of our lives together, exploring every facet of how filth can enhance our lust and love."

Quietly, in barely a whisper I replied "Yes, oh yes."

I hope you enjoyed this story. I am always open to ideas for new stories which explore the interest in shit and piss that all we brothers enjoy so much. I welcome contact from my readers and love to hear about your experiences that mirror my storylines.

Always remember that if Nifty was not here most of the stories would not be out there to read. So please support Nifty if you can.

Brownluster 2023 ( Brownluster7@protonmail.com )