golden shower

On the sixth day of Camilla’s ongoing nightmare in the Montreal aquarium, her naked body was hovering over the fouled water tank in what seemed a state of unconsciousness. The news cameras and lechers, always getting video of her endless gang-bangs from spirits, were wondering why she had been a particularly long time not waking up this time.



“She isn’t dead, is she?” one man on the upper ledge asked while recording her on his cell-phone camera.



“Nah, she couldn’t be dead,” another man beside him answered while switching to a new cell-phone, since his previous phone had just run out of memory. “She’s still spouting come out of her pussy…see?”



Indeed, a big wad of come had just spewed out at that time.



“The naked woman hovering over the water has been positively identified as Dr. Camilla Mennon-Fox, a 37-year-old professor of English literature at McGill University, and widow of Dr. Cameron Fox, a former English professor there,” said a female on-the-spot reporter for CBC’s The National. “Why this is happening to her we still don’t know: what power is holding her up? Is she being gang-raped by ghosts, as certain conspiracy theorists claim, of no-longer-living members of the Green Party? Why is no one doing anything about it? Why can’t anyone do anything? Is she going to die? Will she ever be released? These are all unanswered questions.”



“How a 37-year-old woman has the body of a 25-year-old is what I’d like to know,” said a forty-something woman watching from the viewing area below.



How Camilla’s pitifully small number of friends plan to stop us is what I’d like to know, thought a man in a black suit, standing next to the woman. (His mask was in his car.) They’re hopelessly outnumbered.



When she’s going to wake up is what we’d like to know, thought the spirits of Don, Agape, and Candice. All three of them, as well as Dr. Singh and his helpers in Vancouver (the ones he’d used Nigrovum on to cure them of their AIDS), were still using their psychic powers to keep the glass of the water tank from breaking, and to disintegrate as much of Camilla’s come, piss, and shit in the water as they could. The masked men were keeping those disintegrations to a minimum, of course.



The spirits of Clara, Mercedes, a lesbian waitress at Club Ritz, and a young man Camilla had seduced were enjoying her body at the time. Mercedes’ invisible pussy was in Camilla’s face, and Camilla’s tongue and lips were hard at work, moving automatically in spite of her mind’s being elsewhere. The boy’s invisible cock was between her tits, and his invisible hands were squeezing them aggressively against his cock. Clara’s invisible tongue was all over Camilla’s pussy, flickering against her flapping labia. The waitress’s invisible tongue was digging its way inside Camilla’s gaping asshole.



*************



Of course, the state of unconsciousness that Camilla was in was really just her having another vision of a memory. Fourteen years before the aquarium incident, 23-year-old Camilla was sitting on the sofa in the living room of her house in Toronto, with 4-year-old Eros on her lap. It was a Saturday afternoon in early August. She, in her black-haired, black-eyed, pale ‘Goth’ look, was cuddling with her son and watching the news on TV.



She was wearing heavy makeup and perfume, and a tight, white dress that was unbuttoned at the top, showing off a lot of bra-less cleavage. Eros felt the temptation to look down her dress and see her breasts, and she psychically sensed his urges, even though he’d never looked.



“Nice boys don’t look down their mommies’ dresses, sweetie,” she told him.



“Sorry,” he said.



On The National, there was a story about Garth Van Duyne, who’d finished his term as Toronto mayor, and was now running for Ontario premier, for the Green Party. She stared at theTV screen with no less dazed a facial expression than those people would fourteen years later in the viewing area of the Montreal aquarium, looking up at her through the glass of the water tank.



“What do you have to say to all the conspiracy theorists out there, who claim that a secretive, unscrupulous elite is secretly making not only the Green Party here in Canada, but also the Greens in countries all over the world, so surprisingly successful in recent years?” a female reporter asked Garth.



He chuckled, then said, “Oh, them? I’m not aware that many people even listen to them. I know very little about the ideas of the conspiracy theorists, and I keep up with current events all the time. I have to, as a man in public office. If I don’t read much about the conspiracies, it’s probably because they don’t deserve to be taken seriously. To their propagators I say, ‘Your ideas are fantasies. People want to know the truth instead.’”



“And what is the truth?” she asked him.



“The truth is that the Green Party is quickly growing here and everywhere else, because more and more people are waking up to the truth that we all must help our Mother Earth. The forests, the air, and the oceans are all being ravaged and poisoned for profit, and the people are getting sick of it. They know that we’re the answer to this problem, for only our plan for extensive government intervention will solve the problem. This is the answer: vote Green Party.”



Camilla heard a voice whisper ‘Vote Green Party’ in her ear. She repeated those three words, in a by-now-typical monotone.



*************



That night, Camilla had left Eros with Emily to go stripping in Club Ritz.



An eighteen-year-old boy with blond hair and blue eyes came into the bar and looked around. He saw naked Camilla giving an older man a table dance in a corner of the bar; the young man sat at a table several tables away from where she was, but he was close enough to see all her delicious anatomy.



She’d psychically changed herself back to her original blonde, blue-eyed, peach-skinned look before coming to work. She was bent over with her legs spread out wide; from where he was sitting, the boy could see her brown asshole and purple pussy, and his dick was already hard.



She’d finished the table dance and got paid. Then she put on a tight-fitting blue sling bikini and left the older man. As she was walking away from the table, she saw the boy wave to her to come over to him. She went up to his table, and as soon as she saw his cute, boyish face up close, she was as charmed with him as he was with her.



“Hi, sweetie,” she said in her uninhibited ‘Kitty’ persona, psychically sensing that that persona would be the right one to use on him. She sat on the sofa opposite his. “My name’s Camilla. What’s your name?”



“Danny,” he said shyly.



“Nice to meet you, Danny,” she said, shaking his hand. “You have beautiful eyes, sweetie.”



“Thank you,” he said bashfully, turning his head away.



“Oh, he’s so shy. My little baby.” She caressed his cheek in a maternal way. His dick got harder.



The song that was playing was about to end, and Camilla, anticipating the next song, got up, put her knees on Danny’s sofa right at his crotch, and pushed them against his hard-on. She then unclipped her bikini. It flew off her body and onto the floor; the naked woman removed her high heels and leaned forward so his face was now between her large breasts. That new song, however, didn’t begin to play.



“Sorry, everybody,” the DJ announced. “We’re having some technical difficulties.” Camilla quickly turned her head to the left to look over at the DJ booth, and her right breast slapped against Danny’s left cheek. “Please be patient, and wait a minute.”



A waitress came over to take Danny’s order, and she ogled Camilla’s body. “What d’you want, honey?” she asked him.



Camilla quickly turned to the right to see the waitress, and her left tit slapped against Danny’s right cheek. The waitress smiled as her eyes went up and down Camilla’s curves, and Camilla smiled in flattery back at her.



“Well?” the waitress snapped at Danny. “What’s your drink gonna be?”



“Oh, uh, a Long Island Iced Tea,” he panted, trying to say the words with Camilla’s nipple in his mouth.



“I’ll have a Jim Beam and Coke, Vera,” Camilla said, remembering Agape’s old drink. “Buy it for me, sweetie,” she told him.



“OK,” he said, then Vera left to get their drinks.



Camilla turned back to look down at Danny, and her right breast slapped against his left cheek again. She took his hands and put them on her hips, moving them up and down along her sides. ‘Kitty’s’ total lack of inhibition about her nudity amazed him as much as it excited him.



Finally, a song started to play, and the DJ apologized again. “Wow, lucky you,” Camilla said to Danny. “You had me here naked for free that whole time.”



“Yeah,” he panted, moving his hands up and down the sides of her torso.



She began her table dance with a thorough rubbing of her breasts against his face. She put her tongue in his right ear, pushing it deep inside, then letting it slither around the hole. Her saliva went in, and with it, a touch of Nigrovum. She gently nibbled on his earlobe, blew softly in his earhole, then let her tongue slide along his right cheek towards his nose. She adored the boy’s pretty face so much that she wanted to taste it. She went over to his left ear, and licked, nibbled on, and blew in it the same way she had the right. Again, her tongue came out of his left ear and slid along his left cheek to his nose, against which she then rubbed her nose.



Stupefied, he gazed at her up-close, smiling face. Her blue eyes had an absolute hold over his. Though she had no makeup on, her natural beauty made cosmetics unnecessary.



She took his hands off her hips and put them between his knees, with the fingers curled up. She pushed her breasts against his chest and slowly slid down between his legs, deliberately allowing his fingers to touch her vulva and pubic hair. All the time as she went down, her approving eyes stayed locked on his. When she knelt down on the floor between his legs, she’d allowed his hands to touch her breasts. She moved her chest around a bit so his hands could get a better feel.



Now on the floor, she spread her legs out wide and pushed her ass out; her asshole and pussy were in clear view to anyone looking from behind. Indeed, a man sitting on the sofa behind Camilla turned around and got a good look at both of her holes, as did Vera, who was coming back with Camilla’s and Danny’s drinks. Camilla, always lewdly looking up in Danny’s eyes, was gently nibbling on the bulge in his pants.



Vera put their drinks on the table between the sofas, then bent down and whispered in Camilla’s right ear, “You’re so hot, even your asshole’s pretty.”



“Thank you, Vera,” Camilla said with a smile. Danny paid Vera, and she left.



Camila got up and sat on the couch opposite Danny’s, and spread her legs so he could see her pussy. With her fingers, she opened her labia out wide. She looked in his eyes with a calm smile, the same Mona Lisa look that had mesmerized Father Josiah five years before. The shy boy couldn’t understand how she could be so confident, always naked before all those strangers.



She stood up and turned around so he could see her buttocks. She swayed them around, her anal cleft just a few centimetres from his face; then she bent over and spread her legs out wide. He stared in awe at her asshole and pussy, still only an inch or two from his face, and displayed perfectly, with absolutely no embarrassment on her face. Indeed, she looked back at him upside down from between her legs, just calmly smiling and curious about his reaction.



She giggled in flattery at his agape eyes and mouth, then she put her arm between her legs and reached over to him, her fingers tickling him under the chin. “Wow,” she said. “You sure like what you see.”



“Yeah,” he chuckled timidly.



“Wanna come closer?” she asked.



“How much c-closer?”



“I’ll say when; but beware–I’m a little stinky.”



He came closer and smelled the faecal odour of her asshole, as well as the pee smell from her pussy. Normally, he wouldn’t like the former smell; but because he already adored her divine beauty, he was more than accepting of the smell–after all, it was her smell.



He noticed a small, brown bump on her asshole; it was at two o’clock from the orifice. He didn’t know if it was a beauty mark or a spot of shit; he didn’t care, for he was happy to know every wrinkly detail about her pretty anus, the anus she wasn’t at all shy about showing.



With his nose now just a few millimetres away from her asshole, and his mouth just as close to her pussy, he felt her fingers tickle him under the chin again. She just giggled at the dopey look on his face. He couldn’t believe how permissive she was being with him. Did she like him?



She felt his breathing on her holes, and appreciated his acceptance of her natural smells. “You are so sweet,” she said, still bent over. “Just so you know, I’m all stinky and without makeup because the man I just table danced before you likes me that way. He has a coprophilia fetish, if you can believe it. He likes me to smell natural, all natural. To him, stinky is the new fragrant.”



“I’m open to that, if it’s your stinky,” Danny said, still sniffing her butt.



“Thank you,” she said, still bent over. “I’ve known quite a few guys who are into my stink: it’s weird, but I appreciate their devotion to my divinity. My dirty sides should be appreciated.” She then began to move her ass down, and her anus brushed against his nose. “Oops!” His cock got even harder. She pushed her buttocks against his chest as she slowly went down, and she took his hands and put them on his lap, with the fingers of each hand pointing in, touching those of the other. She sat on his lap, then, holding him by the wrists, slowly pulled his hands out to each side, causing his fingers to touch her anus and his hands to slide along her buttocks. With his hands out of the way, now she did some grinding on his pointy hard-on. “Mmm. That’s a long, thick penis you have, sweetie.”



“Uh, this is…just a…table dance, right?” he groaned.



“Mm-hmm,” she said, still rubbing her ass on his dick. “If you want more intense fun, we have to go into a private room, and it costs more. It’s up to you.”



The song ended, and she, still on his pointy lap, reached over to get her drink. He got his, and they took a few sips.



“Can I have another table dance?” he asked after putting his drink back on the table.



‘Sure,” she said, putting her drink back.



He had several more table dances, with her stimulating him in the same wild ways. Finally, by the end of the fifth table dance, she’d finished her drink.



“Can I have another table dance?” he asked.



“Oh, baby, I gotta pee,” she said urgently.



“Please?” he begged, getting turned on from watching her squirm in desperation. “The last one?”



“OK,” she said, “but you have to buy me another drink.”



“Deal,” he said, thrilled to have her indulge his urolagnia.



She started dancing for him, often squirming and groaning from needing to pee. She could have used Nigrovum to get rid of the discomfort, but she knew he was enjoying it, and she wanted to seduce him, and make him a new ‘priest’ of hers.



When Vera had come to give them their drinks, Camilla had her knees between his legs, pushed up against his hard cock, and her tits were in his face again. Vera put the drinks on the table, then patted and caressed Camilla’s buttocks. Camilla turned her head quickly to the right to see Vera, and Camilla’s left tit brushed against Danny’s right cheek. The girls smiled at each other as Vera walked away.



Towards the end of the song, Camilla was bent over again, showing him her asshole and pussy. Sensing his urolagnia, she allowed a small squirt of piss to drip out on his hand. The Nigrovum in her piss went inside him through his pores.



“Oops!” she said, though slightly relieved.



“That’s OK,” he said. “I kinda have a fetish for that.”



The song ended, and Camilla said, “Quick, pay me. I gotta go pee.” Danny gave her the money as fast as he could. “Wanna watch me pee?”



“Oh, yeah,” he panted.



“OK, come on,” she said, grabbing him by the arm with one hand. “Get my purse.” He did, then she led him to one of the private rooms. As they were rushing there, he noticed little drops of her piss dribbling onto the floor. He was getting turned on all the more.



They went in, and Danny looked in amazement to see not only couches, but also a built-in shower and toilet. She didn’t go sit on the toilet, though: she went to the shower instead.



“Hurry up,” she said, squatting over the drain. “You’re gonna miss it; I’m not holding it in any longer.” He rushed over to her and squatted, facing her. “Ahh!” He looked down and watched in fascination as her piss poured out in a golden line from her urethra down into the drain. He tried to sniff in as much of the odour as he could. Finishing, she squirted out a few last bits, then got up.



He was still squatting, so he had her pubic hair and urine smell an inch or two from his face now. He sniffed away, and she stayed there so he could enjoy it.



“Now I’m really stinky, as you can tell,” she said, still without the slightest embarrassment. He looked up at her in pagan adoration. Making him my priest is going to be easy, she thought. “I wanna get clean; wanna rub the soap all over my body?”



“I’d love to,” he said, standing up.



She turned on the shower water, and he started lathering up the soap. She raised her arms up over her head and said, “Start with my pits, please.” He soaped up her armpits, then her breasts–very thoroughly, then her abdomen and pubic hair. “OK, baby, now get down and clean my legs and feet.”



“OK,” he panted, squatting and lathering her legs. She smirked at the sight of the bulge in his pants. He was especially thorough in cleaning her feet: getting soap between each toe and carefully cleaning each nail, which she’d psychically changed back to its original transparent look. Seeing the fetishistic adoration and attention to detail he was giving in cleaning her feet so well, she just looked down at him and smiled.



Devotion to the Goddess, she thought. I like that. Then she squatted down with her legs wide open. “Clean my pussy, please,” she said.” He soaped up her vulva, thoroughly cleaning her hard clit, wet vaginal and urethral openings, and swollen labia. “Clean inside,” she sighed. “Oh!”



“How far in?” he asked.



“All the way, of course. I’m getting horny,” she said as his soapy index finger went in, brushing against her G-spot. “Ah!” He pushed his finger all the way in, gently poking at her A-spot. After thoroughly cleaning all her vaginal walls and taking his finger out, he saw come spew out of her pussy in a glorious arc. “Oh!”



“Incredible,” he panted, watching her come go down the drain.



“Sweetie, you made me come!” she sighed with an ear-to-ear grin. “Thank you!” She kissed him on the cheek. “OK,” she said, getting up and turning around so her ass was in his face. “Clean my bum now.”



He soaped up her buttocks all over, going all around her anal cleft, but not touching her anus, whose smell he oddly found himself liking.

“Baby, you haven’t cleaned my anus yet,” she said, bending over and spreading her legs so he could see. “Clean away the poo-smell, please; put your fingers all the way in.”



“OK,” he said, then lathered up his index finger and gently pushed it in all the way. She was moaning the whole time. After leaving not one spot on her rectal walls unsoaped, he pulled his finger out and cleaned every wrinkle on her gaping anus.



He rinsed her off, then towelled her dry.



“Want some lap dances, angel?” she asked.



“Oh, I don’t think I have any more money,” he said.



“That’s OK,” she said, leading him to the couches. “You made me orgasm, so I wanna give you some pleasure now. Besides, I like you: you’re unbelievably cute.”



“Thank you,” he said shyly, sitting on a couch.



“My pleasure,” she said, sitting on him and facing him. A new song began. “You can touch me everywhere, sweetie. Nowhere’s off-limits.”



“Really?” he asked, putting his hands on her ass.



“Yeah. You’ve already touched everything. I’ll let you touch it all again. Don’t worry, I won’t get angry if you touch me in a naughty place. That’s why I wanted you to clean me, so you won’t get stinky fingers, and get the stink all over my skin.”



She massaged the bulge in his pants as his fingers crawled into her anal cleft, searching for her asshole. He started gently fingering it, and she moaned softly, enjoying his sensitive touch. Then she reached forward and and put her tongue in his mouth, to kiss her thanks for his anal masturbating of her. As they French-kissed, more Nigrovum in her saliva went into his body. His finger gently pushed inside her anus.



She wrapped her lips around his lower lip, pulled on it, and let go, making it slap back to his face. Then she started licking him, her tongue sliding up along his cheeks, then up from his lower lip to his nose More of her Nigrovum-flavoured saliva went through the pores of his skin.



His hands roamed all over her body, feeling her tits, pinching her nipples, and fingering her pussy, inside and out. She put each tit in his mouth and had him suck on them both like a baby. She even lactated: more Nigrovum got inside him.



“I’m breastfeeding you,” she sighed, getting horny from his lips tugging on her nipple, and his tongue tickling it. “You’re Mommy’s little baby. Oh!”



He pulled a bit and let go of her nipple, watching it bounce back and her breast wiggle. “Yeah,” he said. “You taste sweet.”



“I was wondering,” she asked, getting up and turning around. “Are you a virgin?”



“Uh, yeah,” he said, frowning and looking away in embarrassment.



“Oh, Mommy’s little angel,” she said, opening her buttocks and showing him her asshole. “Wanna put your face in?”



“Yeah,” he moaned, smiling again and putting his face between her freshly-cleaned butt-cheeks. He passionately kissed her anus, then gave her many pecks up and down her anal cleft before she closed her buttocks around his face, letting him enjoy her buttocks’ softness. The song ended.



“I gotta pee again,” she said, getting up and going over to the toilet. He went over and watched her sit on and pee in the toilet. She opened her legs so he could clearly see her piss pour down into the toilet bowl, and she looked up into his eyes without any embarrassment; he could never cease to be amazed at her limitless confidence. She reached over and pulled off some toilet paper. “You like watching girls pee, don’t you?”



‘”Yeah,” he said, watching the last few squirts of pee come out of her hole.



“I thought so,” she said, wiping her pussy dry and always looking up at him. She got up and flushed the toilet.



“I’m gonna have to go,” he said. “My parents are probably wondering where I am.”



“That’s a good little boy,” she said, pinching his cheeks as if she were his mom. “Do you love your mommy?”



“Yeah, of course.” He looked away.



Sensing something wrong in his family, she asked, “When your mommy tells you to do something, do you obey her?”



“Yeah, i have to.”



Camilla knew something was wrong, but she decided not to interfere…yet. “OK, well I guess you have to go.”



“Uh, can I sniff you down there one more time?”



“Sure,” she said. He squatted down and sniffed her muff. “You like the smell of my pee-pee?”



“If it’s your pee, yes, definitely.” He kept sniffing, greedily.



“You’re so sweet; a perfect devotee of the Goddess.”



“You are a goddess.”



“That’s right, baby.”



Staying naked, she followed him outside. Standing out by the front doors of Club Ritz, on the busy sidewalk, she’d psychically put up a barrier to protect her from oglers and gropers. Any police passing by wouldn’t be able to see her.



The Nigrovum she’d passed on to him made him vaguely aware of her power, yet unable to know what it was exactly.



“I’m really impressed with your lack of inhibitions,” he said. “You have no hang-ups.”



“Well, I do have some hang-downs,” she said, looking down at her tits.



“They don’t hang down too much,” he said, ogling them. “They’re nice and firm.”



“Thank you,” she said with a calm smile; its calmness was all the stranger with all the people staring at her naked body, frustrated that they couldn’t get up close. “Men like my body, so I let them see it.”



“You’re not afraid of what people will think? Of what people might do?”



“I’m flattered at what people will think, and excited by what people might do. I look good naked, so I show it off.”



“You’re amazing,” he panted.



“I’m a goddess.”



“You sure are.”



“If you’re really good, I’ll give you blessings. Baby, stay a virgin for me: I want to deflower you one day. For now, though, stay pure and innocent. I like you that way.”



“OK.”



“Wanna feel me up one more time?” she asked, opening up her arms for a hug.



“Sure,” he said, then they hugged. He felt her ass, opening her buttocks.



“Yeah, baby. Masturbate my anus again. I like the way you touch me.”



“OK,” he said, fingering her asshole, tickling her clitoris, and gently squeezing her tits. She moaned her thanks.



She turned around, held his head in her hands, then looked him in the eyes and said, “You’ll vote for Garth Van Duyne.”



“I’ll vote for Garth Van Duyne,” the erstwhile Conservative Party supporter repeated, robot-like.



“You’ll vote Green Party, always.”



“I’ll vote Green Party, always.”



“Bye, sweetie,” she said, touching his hard-on again and giving it a light squeeze. “Mmm. I love your big penis. Come here for more table dances, OK? Bring a lot of money.”



“I’ll bring a lot of money,” he said, then left.



She removed the psychic barrier, then went back inside the strip joint, followed by a number of her male oglers on the sidewalk.



*****************



A week later, Danny returned to Club Ritz, and Camilla was going onstage to do her floorshow. With her original blonde look again, she was now heavily made up, and wearing high heels and a glittery gold dress with slits up the sides to show off her legs. It was low-cut at the front and back, showing off both kinds of cleavage.



Her first song was Buster Poindexter’s cover version of ‘Hot, Hot, Hot’. She walked around the stage shaking her tits to the rhythm of the music. When she saw Danny come and sit at the tip rail, she had her back to him; she spread her legs out wide, bent over, and showed him her asshole.



During her third song, she was crawling around naked on the stage, displaying her pussy and asshole for him with her usual ‘Kitty’ lack of inhibition.



Her floorshow ended, and she left the stage naked, taking only her purse. She went with Danny to a table and they sat together.



“How are you, angel?” she asked him.



“Oh, great,” he said. “You were amazing on stage.”



“Thanks. Would you like a lot of table dances here, or a few lap-dances in a private room?”



“Oh, let’s just do ‘em here. I wanna have your beautiful body for as long as I can.” She giggled.



A new song soon began, and Camilla started giving Danny table dances that were as indulgent and permissive as they had been his first time with her. She was rubbing her tits in his face, putting her tongue in his ears, and licking his face. She generously showed off her pussy and asshole as usual, and frequently rubbed her buttocks against his hard-on, so eager was she to feel the length and thickness of it bulging out and poking against her wet vulva.



On the first of such occasions, she leaned back against his chest as her ass massaged his cock; she put her right arm around him, looked back at him, and sighed, “There’s my…favourite virgin…penis again.”



Then she got up, bent over, and spread her legs again, this time showing off an immaculately clean pussy and asshole, right up close to his face. She looked back at him upside-down from between her legs, always curious to see how he was enjoying what she was showing him. Giggling at the smile on his face, she reached back between her legs and tickled him under the chin with her index and long fingers. She noticed a curious look in his eyes.



“See something different, sweetie?” she asked in her ‘Kitty’ voice.



“Oh,” he said, squinting and looking more carefully. “It’s just that your asshole–”



“Danny!” she, still bent over, gently chided. “Nice boys don’t say bad words.”



“Sorry. Your anus–”



“That’s better.”



“Last time, I noticed your anus had a little bump on it. The bump is gone now.”



“Oh? Where exactly? Touch me on the spot where you saw it.” She opened her ass out wide so he could see better.



“Really? It’s OK if I touch you out here?”



“Well, the management only allows customers to touch us in the private rooms, but I’ll let you touch me here. You already know my body better than I do; only your penis doesn’t know me…yet. Feel away.”



“OK.” He touched the spot where the bump had been, at two o’clock from her anal orifice. “No bump.”



Still bent over and looking back at him from between her legs, she said, “Hmm. Must’ve been a bit of poo. Which do you think looks prettier, sweetie? My anus then, or now?”



“Oh, I can’t decide, Camilla. It was beautiful then, in its own way, and it’s lovely now, in its own way.”



“You’re so sweet. Thank you, baby. You wanna put your penis in here, don’t you?” She opened her asshole wider for his hungry eyes.



“Oh, yeah!” he grunted, bending forward and bringing his face closer–something she, of course, permitted.



“Well, you’ll have to be really good before I let you put that great big thing in my anus,” she said, always bent over and showing off her asshole to motivate that goodness in him.



“Let me prove myself, Goddess.”



“Oh, you’ll get your chance–later.” She tickled him under the chin.



The song ended, and she stayed bent over for him during the brief silence between songs. A new song began.



He sniffed her butt. “You’re clean tonight,” he said.



“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Vera, the waitress who served us drinks last week, has the hots for me. Sometimes I let her clean me. She’s been trying to get me in bed with her for a few years now. I like to tease her, but sometimes I’m merciful, as when I let her bathe me.”



“If you don’t mind my asking, have you ever received anal before?”



“Oh, sure, lots of times. I enjoy it.”



“Really? Wow.” He kept looking and sniffing.



“Yeah. Get a good look at my anus.” Still bent over, she spread her ass out even wider for him. “Don’t I look used to you?”



“No, actually. It’s too perfect-looking.”



“Thanks, sweetie,” she said, reaching back again and tickling him under the chin.



The song that was playing, incidentally, was Van Morrison’s ‘Brown-eyed Girl.’



*****************



A week later, he went to Club Ritz a third time. It was about 6:10 on a Friday evening, and she came in to start work just after he’d arrived. She, blonde, blue-eyed, and peach-skinned again, was in a tight white T-shirt, jeans, and white sneakers.



He went up to her. “Hi,” he said. “Can I have some table dances?”



“Can I change first?” she, in her ‘Kitty’ voice, asked with a smirk.



“Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d love to see you strip out of what you’re wearing now,” he said with unusual boldness.



She brought her bust up close to him and put her arm around his neck. With her nose touching his, she looked in his eyes, and in her sultry ‘Marilyn’ voice, she said, “You want me to take my clothes off in front of you?”



“Yeah,” he panted, his dick getting hard.



“OK, let’s go,” she said, back in her ‘Kitty’ voice, then took him towards a private room. “But I’m taking these clothes off in there, ’cause I’m not allowed to out here. I could use my power to make the management not notice, but I don’t feel like using it today, because I feel a little burned out if I use it too much, as I’ve been doing lately.” They went inside.



He sat on a couch, and she stood before him. A new song began, George Michael’s ‘Too Funky’. She slowly swayed her hips from side to side, turning around so he could see the ass of her jeans, inches from his face. She turned around to face him again, then unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. She pulled them down to reveal her light blue lace panties. When she had the jeans down to her feet, she turned around so her bent-over ass would be in his face again. She wiggled her ass as she took off her shoes and socks, brushing her ass against his face; he loved the feeling of the material of her panties caressing his nose. She then straightened up and turned around to face him.



She pulled off her T-shirt and dropped it on his lap. Dancing in her blue underwear, she looked in his eyes and mouthed Anne Bancroft’s famous words, ‘Would you like me to seduce you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?’ He just looked up at her and breathed heavily, rubbing his hand on his crotch. Her T-shirt conveniently covered the embarrassing thing his hand was doing…not that she didn’t know, of course.



She took off her bra with a wiggle of her breasts, then dropped the bra on his lap. Finally, she pulled down her panties to reveal her divine nudity to his eager eyes. She turned around, and as her ass came down on his lap, he quickly put theT-shirt and bra aside. She sat on his lap and rubbed her ass on the point there; then she got up and bent over to show him her two holes.



Looking back at him from between her legs, she asked, “No bump?”



Sniffing her freshly cleaned holes, he said, “Nope. Do I get to be seduced by you tonight?”



“Nope,” she replied, tickling him under the chin. “Patience.”



****************



On Saturday afternoon, Danny went to a public swimming pool. Blonde Camilla was there, in her blue sling bikini. Men’s eyes were ogling her the whole time, but annoyed that they couldn’t get up close to her. She sensed his presence, and allowed him to get through her psychic force field, though pretending she didn’t know he had followed her into the deep end of the pool.



When he was immediately behind her in the water, she turned around and acted surprised to see him. “Hi!” she said, hugging him.



“Hi,” he said shyly, his hard-on poking against her happy legs. She was resting against the side of the pool.



“How are you?” she asked, unclipping her bikini and letting it fly out in the water behind him. She’d also gotten rid of her psychic barrier.



“Oh, good,” he said. “Do you want me to get that?”



“Of course,” she said. “I can’t get out of here naked, can I?”



“Well, no,” he said, getting the bikini. “But don’t you have a power that can protect you if you stay naked?” Indeed, he was feeling the power of Nigrovum now, if only to a small extent, and could vaguely sense what she could do.



“Yeah, but I don’t feel like using it now. Sometimes dangerous is sexy.” The water went up to her nipples, while the rising and falling waves caused her tits to show sometimes. He came up close to her so only he could see them.



Still, to be polite, he tried to look only in her eyes.



“Danny, you can look at them if you want,” she said. “Don’t be shy; I won’t get angry. Why do you think I’m all au naturel now?”



“OK,” he said, looking down with a slight pout.



“Are you OK?” she asked. “You seem a little blue today.”



“Oh, it’s my mother. She yelled at me today.”



“About what?”



“I always leave the front door open when she has the air conditioning on. She gets crazy and screams at me for that.”



“Gee, that’s a good reason to be mean to your son,” Camilla said with a sarcastic sneer.



“Yeah,” he said. “She’s really domineering sometimes. She’ll yell at me about the tiniest things. Sometimes I get the feeling she’s playing games with my head. When I was a kid, she used to tell me that I’d done an IQ test and scored 63.”



“Oh, bullshit! You’re much smarter than that.”



“Well, yeah. I get good grades in school, and I’m going into university in the fall. I’m studying economics.”



“Dummies can’t do that. I bet your mom was lying to you.” She did a psychic scan of the history of his mother’s psychic energy, the way it bounced off him; within a minute or so, she was convinced his mother was lying about the IQ test. “I hate to bad-mouth your mom before meeting her, but I think she’s a bitch. I can feel it–psychically. What a terrible thing to say to a child. To make him believe he’s less than he really is.”



“I know,” he said, fighting back sobs.



“Oh, baby,” she said, hugging him. “Go ahead and cry, sweetie. You have every right to.” Indeed, he began softly crying on her shoulder.



“I don’t think she loves me.”



“Frankly, I don’t think she loves you, either. I’ve heard about the kind of thing she seems to be doing to you. Tricking you, making you doubt your perceptions. It’s called ‘gaslighing’. Making you think you’re retarded. What an awful thing to do to your own son. My mom was a real bitch when she was alive, too.”



“Really?”



“Yeah. When she died, I wasn’t exactly heartbroken, let me tell you. She yelled at me, called me dirty names, and restricted my freedom. I became a stripper just to spite her. She wanted me to become a lawyer or something, can you believe that?”



“I bet you could do that,” Danny said. He’d stopped sobbing.



“Yeah, but I don’t want to,” she said. “I wanna be an English professor, like my daddy used to be. You know what else I wanna be?”



“What?”



“i wanna be your new mommy, sweetie.”



“Huh?”



“Your new mommy. I’ll give you all the love she never gave you.” She kissed him on the forehead, as she always kissed Eros. “All I ask in return is your devotion.”



“Gladly, Goddess.” Now he was smiling.



“Good boy,” she said, grinning. Then she put her hands under the water and quickly pulled down his swimming trunks. She giggled as he, blushing, quickly pulled them up again.



**************



Next Tuesday, Danny was looking around in the Eaton’s Centre. He saw blonde Camilla shopping there.

“Hi!” she said. She was in a tight white T-shirt and blue jeans again.



“Hi,” he said. “We’re always running into each other. How strange…but great!”



I know, she thought; I always plan it that way. For I control people. They don’t control me, as they’d tried to do in a few of my undergraduate classes.



“I’m aching to see you naked again,” he groaned. “Would that be OK, ‘Mom’?”



“Buy me a new dress, and you can watch me strip in the fitting room,’son’,” she said.



“Gladly!” he said, then rushed over to an ATM to withdraw some money.



They went over to Clara’s clothing store. Camilla looked through all the dresses, then found a dark blue one that she liked.



“Hey, baby,” she said to Danny. “I like this one. Come with me.” She had him go into a fitting room. Clara knew what Camilla wanted to do, but, fancying her, happily allowed her to do it; for she was hoping for another chance to have Camilla flash in front of her.



Camilla went into the fitting room with Danny. He was sitting on a bench, and she stood before him, slowly dancing to the electronic dance music playing in the store. Off came her T-shirt and down came her jeans, revealing her pink lace underwear. Then she took off her shoes and socks, again bent over so he had the ass of her pink panties in his face. She rubbed her buttocks against his face, and allowed him to nibble briefly on her panties. She pulled her feet through the legs of her jeans and straightened up.



She took off her bra with the usual wiggle of her tits, dropping her bra in his lap. Then she put her hand in her panties and fingered her wet pussy. She pulled down her panties, pulled her feet through the leg-holes, and stood completely naked before him.



She turned around and bent over, showing off her asshole and pussy again. He gleefully sniffed, and was not only getting used to her faecal smell…he was enjoying it! He wanted to know everything about her divine body, even the dirty parts. She sensed this, and was delighted with his adoration of her whole body.



She straightened up and put on the dress: it was a perfect fit. She’d psychically sensed it would fit perfectly before going into the fitting room, and knew that trying the dress on wouldn’t be necessary; but of course, she wanted to strip for her priest-to-be. She quickly took off the dress so he could enjoy looking at her naked body some more.



She opened the door without a care in the world, perfectly content to let anyone in the store, or anyone passing by outside, see her naked. Fortunately for Clara, and the survival of her business, only she saw Camilla’s frontal nudity. Clara went up to her.



“Can you ring this up for me, please?” Camilla asked. “The boy’s going to pay for it.”



“OK,” Clara said, ogling Camilla’s tits and pubic hair. Wanting to keep looking, and hoping no one else would see, Clara reluctantly walked away to the cash register.



Then naked Camilla, without any warning, casually walked out of the fitting room. “Sweetie, get my clothes and purse,” she told Danny. He quickly grabbed them and rushed out, wanting to cover her as much as Clara did.



“As much as this turns me on, Camilla,” Clara said, running back from the cash register to cover Camilla, “I don’t wanna get in trouble.”



“OK,” Camilla said. “Let’s go into the back room and finish things off there.” She insouciantly walked over to the door to the back area with Danny, and they went in.



Clara closed up the store and joined them. She saw Camilla lying on her desk, with her legs spread out wide and raised up over her head, showing off her pussy and asshole.



“Wanna have a taste, Clara?” she asked.



“Oh, yeah,” Clara sighed, then quickly put her face between Camilla’s legs. She licked Camilla’s pussy with long, wide inclusive licks, coming into contact with everything from her perineum to her clitoris.



Sighing her gratitude, Camilla said, “Danny. Come here. Suck my tits. Oh!”



“OK,” he said, and wrapped his lips around Camilla’s left nipple. She was lactating again, and he loved the taste.



Clara was now sucking on Camilla’s clitoris, squeezing her lips tightly around that hard little rock. Clara’s moaning vibrated against Camilla’s vulva, increasing her pleasure.



Ah!” Camilla squealed. “Danny. Finger my…anus. Oh!” He put his left index finger between her buttocks and rubbed it against her anal orifice, pushing it in a half-inch.



After another minute of licking, sucking, and fingering, Camilla screamed in whistle register and showered her come all over Clara’s smiling face. Danny looked over at the lesbian with amazement in his eyes.



“Thanks, both…of you,” Camilla sighed. “I needed that.”



Camilla, slowly catching her breath, got off the desk and put her clothes back on. Danny sniffed her faecal odour on his finger with a smile on his face. They all went back out to the main store, Clara reopened, he paid for the dress, and he and Camilla left.



“Thanks for the dress, sweetie,” she said to him. “I’m going to Club Ritz now. Wanna come?”



“Sorry,” he said. “I’d love to, but I can’t. My mom needs me to help her with something.”



“OK,” she said. “Well, I, your real mom, will see you soon. Bye.”



“Bye.”



******************



The next day, Danny was walking along Yonge Street, and Camilla, in her ‘Goth’ look, saw him. She was with Mercedes.



“Danny,” Camilla said to him. “Hi! We meet again.” She gave him a hug. “Oh, this is Mercedes, another stripper at Club Ritz; Mercedes, this is Danny–my adopted son, if you will.”



“Nice to meet you,” Danny said to Mercedes, shaking her hand. Having only seen Camilla with her original blonde look, he was more than surprised at how different Camilla now looked, with black hair and eyes, and pale skin. “Did you dye your hair?”



“No,” Camilla said. “It just slowly changed. The new look came with my powers. Do you prefer blondes, my cute little gentleman?” She closed her eyes and visualized her original blond hair, blue eyes, and peach skin. In two seconds, she was looking just that way.



“Wow!” he said, blinking in disbelief at what he’d just seen. “How’d you do that?”



“Im a goddess, I told you,” she said.



“Really, that’s freaky,” he said. “You seem more like a witch or something…uh, a good witch, of course.”



“Baby, I have a divine spark in me. So does Mercedes now. We no longer have our period; no PMS. Really, I haven’t bought tampons in years! You have the divine power, too, by the way: I gave it to you in my milk, remember? You just have to learn how to use the power. Mommy will teach you. Come here–give Mommy another hug.”



He went over, and they hugged again.



“Mommy?” Mercedes asked Camilla with a sneer.



“I’m his new Mommy,” Camilla said, holding his cheeks in her hands and kissing him on the forehead. “His real mom is mean to him, isn’t she, my little angel?”



“Yeah,” he said timidly.



She sensed a pang of hunger in his stomach. “You hungry, baby?” she asked.



“Yeah, actually. But I don’t have any money on me.”



“I’ll buy you lunch. Let’s all go to Harvey’s,” she said.



“Oh, Camilla, you don’t have to–”



“Call me ‘Mommy’,” she said firmly. “I like that.”



“OK, M-Mommy,” he said, embarrassed to be so infantilized. They started on their way to the restaurant.



“Angel,” Camilla said to Danny. “As a goddess, I need priests to worship me. Two of my priests–Allen and Sean–died a little while ago, and I need replacements. Could you be one of them?”



“Sure,” he said. “I’d be honoured. What happened to those guys?”



“Well, it’s hard to explain,” she said. “Suffice it to say, they got depressed. Allen died of his depression, and Sean actually killed himself. It was awful.”



Vaguely sensing danger to himself, Danny asked, “That isn’t gonna happen to me, is it?”



“Don’t worry, baby,” she lied. “Mommy will protect you.” They all went through the doors of Harvey’s. She whispered in his ear, “You’ll have to wear women’s clothes.”



“Oh?” he said. “Why?”



“It’s just ceremonial, in honour of my beauty.”



“Oh, uh, I guess I can do that.”



“Also, it turns me on to see my pretty boys looking feminine,” she said. Standing up close before him, with her tits pressed against his chest, and holding his head in her hands, she looked in his eyes and–in her ‘Marilyn’ voice, purred, “You do wanna turn me on, don’t you?”



“Of course I do,” he said, his dick getting hard again.



*****************



Indeed, she made him do all the things she’d made her other ‘priests’ do: cross-dress, and be a passive partner in gay sex with Ron and his gay friends, all while Camilla and Mercedes watched. Similarly, the gay sex–both anal and oral–was filmed and posted online. Sensing that Danny wouldn’t willingly do such extreme things to please her, Camilla used her mind-controlling powers to make him do it. However artificial it may have been, she enjoyed watching his submission all the same, and decided that, finally, the day was soon coming for him to have sex with her.



On the day that he was to go over to her house, Camilla had Emily take Eros out to an amusement park for the day. Camilla mercifully allowed Danny to come over dressed as a man.



When he rang the front door to her house that afternoon, she answered the door completely naked. “Hi, sweetie,” she said.



“Hi,” he sighed, looking up and down her body.



“Come on in,” she said. He came in, and followed her upstairs, him immediately behind her. With her bottom just up in front of his face, she deliberately stopped two times to let his face push against her buttocks. After the second time, she asked, “Did you enjoy that, sweetie?”



“I sure did,” he said. They went into her bedroom.



“OK, baby,” she said. “It’s time for you to strip for me.” He took off his shoes, socks, T-shirt, and jeans; when she saw his white briefs, she said, “What adorable underwear you have, sweetie!”



“Oh, uh, thank you.” He took them off, and stood naked before her, with his hard-on pointing out forward at her.



“You look so cute naked!” she said with a grin. “Come with me, baby. Let’s go into the bathroom.”



“Aren’t we going to fuck?”



“Danny! Nice boys don’t say naughty words.”



“Sorry.”



“If you pass all my tests of devotion, I’ll take your virginity,” she said as they entered the bathroom. “Get in the tub, and lie on your back.”



He lay on his back, and she got over him and squatted. “What are you gonna do?” he asked, correctly anticipating a golden shower.



“I’m gonna baptize you in the name of the Goddess,” she said. Then a golden line of piss poured from her urethra all over his chest, splashing drops on his face and neck. She moved up, getting her pee on his neck and face: he received it all with a smile on his face. She squirted out a few last drops, then straightened up and got out of the shower stall. She sat on the toilet.



“What now?” he asked, standing up.



“Don’t get out of the tub,” she said, farting and letting out a few turds. “Just stay there as I give you your next test of devotion.” A few more turds dropped out of her asshole.



“I love hearing your beautiful asshole in action,” he said, coming more and more to understand coprophilia, when the crapper is a goddess.



“Thank you, sweetie,” she said, dumping a few more shits. “Some good news today: Garth Van Duyne won the provincial election. The Green Party is running Ontario for the first time ever!” She farted, and shat another log.



“Wow,” he said, sniffing away. “I never thought I’d vote for the Greens. I always believed the Conservative Party was the way to go. At least that’s what my parents always tell me. Meeting you has really changed my life in so many ways.”



“OK, I’m done,” she said, getting up and flushing the toilet. She got some toilet paper, got on the floor on all fours and pointed her muddy asshole at him. “Clean me, please.”



“Yes, Goddess,” he said. He delighted in wiping the brown off her asshole to reveal its pretty beige colour again. He was very thorough, removing every streak of brown that he could find between each wrinkle.



“Good boy,” she said, getting up. She got in the shower stall with him, and they washed each other’s bodies completely clean, inside and out. After towelling each other dry, they left the bathroom and went back into the bedroom.



Camilla lay on the bed on her back and spread her legs, raising them up so both her pussy and asshole, fresh and clean, were in view. He got on the bed, eager to put his cock inside either hole.



“Just a minute, sweetie,” she said. “I want you to lick me first.”



“OK,” he said, then put his face between her legs. He put his tongue on her asshole, then pulled it up from there to her vaginal opening, then to her clit, all in one long lick. He repeated that lick several times, and Camilla–sensing that his lack of sexual experience would limit her pleasure–used her psychic powers to let his tongue and fingers know what to do. She visualized Candice’s abilities at cunnilingus being in his tongue. Within seconds, he was licking, sucking, and fingering her as well as Candice used to do.



He sucked on her now-swollen labia as his finger gently pushed its way inside her anus. She ran her hands through his hair, sighing and moaning. Then he slipped his tongue as far inside her vagina as he could reach, tickling her G-spot with it. Her sighs and moans got louder.



His finger and tongue switched places, and his finger slid all the way inside her pussy, prodding her A-spot while his tongue flickered enthusiastically against her asshole. Finally, he brought his mouth up to her clitoris and sucked on it with tightly sealed lips. She screamed in whistle register and coated his face with her come.



“Good boy,” she sighed. “Now let’s…do a…69.”



They got into the sixty-nine position, with her on top. She took his hard-on in her mouth while he began licking her pussy and asshole. She played with his balls and wrapped her upper lip tightly around his bulging corpus spongiosum. The tip of his tongue rolled over every wrinkle on her anus while his finger went back inside her dripping wet cunt, massaging her G-spot.



About to come again, she used her mental powers to make him bring his wide-open mouth down to her pussy, ready to catch the waterfall. She pulled his cock out of her mouth, screamed again, and gushed in his mouth, with only a little come dribbling down the sides.



“OK, baby,” she said. “I want…more head.” She got on the bed on her back again. “Go between…my legs.”



“What about…me putting…my cock in?” he asked, bringing his face down to her cunt.



“I’ll deflower you…in a minute.”



He began fluttering his tongue against her hard clitoris. She played with her tits and pinched her nipples as she squealed to the sensations of his mouth. He sucked on her labia and slid his finger inside her pussy, tickling her G-spot again. She came a third time, soaking his face.



“Good boy,” she sighed. “OK, now you’re worthy. Put that…big thing…in me.” She gave him some Kleenex to wipe his face clean.



“Alright!” he said, kneeling between her legs. “VIrginity, good-bye forever!” He got on top of her in the missionary position, and slid his cock in slowly. Her sighs got higher and louder with each extra inch he went inside. Finally, he got all the way in, poking at her A-spot. She screamed and came all over his cock and balls.



“That’s one…shot of come,” she said, her voice shaking from his aggressive thrusts. “Make me…come once more…during this fuck, and I’ll…let you…put it in…my anus. Oh!”



“Oh, yeah!” he grunted, and fucked some more.



“Oh! Oh! Oh!”



He put his hands on her tits and squeezed them gently. She, putting her arms around his neck, looked in his eyes appreciatively as she felt his huge boner ramming away inside her. His eyes mirrored that appreciation, but for taking away his virginity. He’d been especially anxious about losing it after she’d made him have gay sex with Ron and his gay friends. Danny couldn’t believe how compliant he’d been about that; he didn’t want to believe she’d hypnotized him into taking it up the ass and giving guys head. He dreaded contemplating even the possibility of his being gay, but now, she was making him feel like a man…even though she still wanted him to call her ‘Mommy’. This sex with her made it easier for him to forget the gay sex before.



Her screams grew louder and louder, and her squinting face raised his hopes that she would come soon. Oh, how he wanted to put his cock in her pretty asshole!



“Ah!” she screamed, drowning his cock and balls with her come. “You did it, baby. You can now…put it in…my anus.”



“Oh, thank you, Goddess!” he said joyfully. He pulled his cock out, and she rolled over to be on all fours, spreading her legs out and pushing her ass back so he could see her asshole. “Do you have any lubrication?”



“Don’t need it, sweetie.” She then used Nigrovum to lubricate her asshole. He watched in awe as it slowly got wetter and wetter, inside and out. She looked back at him with a ‘Kitty’ smile. “OK, pop it in.”



“OK,” he panted, then pushed the tip of his cock against her opening anus. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the entry. He got his cock in an inch, and she moaned softly. He pushed in another two inches, and he grunted with pleasure. Finally, he got his cock all the way inside her rectum, and she let out a high-pitched squeal of delight.



He started pumping away. He thrilled to the tightness of her anal lips, which squeezed around his rock-hard shaft. He was surprised–as Mr. Baker had been–to feel her rectum open out. Still, he was enjoying himself no less.



She turned her head to the side, with her eyes still closed and with that Cheshire ‘Kitty’ smile, and softly sighed as she felt his cock stimulating her rectal walls, as well as her neighbouring vaginal wall.



“Are you…enjoying that, sweetie?” she asked.



“Better than…anything else. Oh!” he groaned.



“You’re gonna…come soon. Pull it out. Come on…my ass. Oh!”



He pulled his cock out, and she used her psychic powers to make him shoot his load all over her buttocks. His come dripped down her crack, some going a little inside her gaping anus.



“OK, baby,” she said. “Clean it off.”



“With a cloth?” he asked.



“No, silly. Eat it.”



“Oh, OK.” He put his face between her buttocks and started licking and sucking all of his wad off her ass. She looked back at him and smiled, delighted to have him worship her ass so devoutly.



He’ll make such a good priest, she thought.



“Thank you, Goddess,” he said between licks.



“You’re welcome, and keep voting for the Green Party. Always support Garth Van Duyne.”



******************



Camilla regained consciousness, finding herself 37 again, and in the Montreal public aquarium.



The spirits of Mr. Grisham, Mr. Hanson, Mr. Chen, and Wayne were having her now, on the night of the sixth day of her unending ordeal. She was being forced to suck Grisham’s invisible cock, to receive Mr. Hanson’s in her always-coming pussy, to feel Mr. Chen’s in her ass, and to have Wayne’s between her tits, with his invisible hands squeezing her tits together. She could feel the men’s malice.

1In disbelief of what was happening, I followed her humiliating instructions, my throbbing dick pointing downward. She stepped away for a moment, but returned and I felt something plastic run up my thigh and then between my cheeks. Obviously ‘no touching’ meant skin-to-skin. I realized she had grabbed the ancient red flyswatter that had hung on the wall. Luckily I had scrubbed it down recently. I braced for a whipping on my bare ass.



Moments later the sting of the swatter registered across my cheeks as Za’ana flogged me rapidly at least a dozen times. I could feel the heat on my skin. I began to relax as she stopped but grunted as my hanging balls were knocked harshly around for several seconds. My eyes watered from the pain.



“Okay, now, your butter finger, in your asshole!”



I had agreed to this game thinking all I would have to do is jerk off while she happily stripped down. I was stupid not to realize there would be much more. Now I was going to have to sodomize myself. Almost in tears and regretting what I had signed up for, I followed her order, and slipped my middle finger into my rectum as Za’ana watched, her face very close by from what I could tell. I’ll admit I had done that once out of curiosity in the past, so the sensation was not new.



“Move it around! In and out! Good boy Robert!” she said in that strange accent.



Suddenly I could hear her rummaging around in the fridge. She had me grab a carrot from her.



“Stick this inside. You know you want to show me how well you can do it.”



No, I didn’t, but thought there was no other choice. I had to keep this scary bitch happy until I could get out of here. So I began to stuff it up my ass. It was cold and much bigger than my finger. Luckily she didn’t select one of the zucchinis or yellow squash I bought for her omelets.



“Around in a circle! Yes! Stretch your asshole for me, nice guy Rob! Your dick is still hard! You love this! Now in and out! Faster!”



I couldn’t believe I was butt fucking myself with a carrot. I began to feel some strange urges from my intestinal tract and was beginning to sweat.



“Okay stand up! Walk around the room!”



The orange intruder shifted around in my rectum as I stepped gingerly around the kitchen like a show pony, my stiff meat dancing in front of me. Za’ana smiled and moaned approval. She had perched herself on the tabletop, sipping tea, her long legs curled up beneath her. I finally stopped and looked into those beautiful eyes, and my regret lessened slightly; I hoped I was giving her whatever sick pleasure she wanted.



I followed another set of orders, which resulted in me face up on the floor, with my body upside down in the air, leaning against the cabinets. From this position it was clear she wanted me to come on my own face. I resumed stroking, my feet in the air, carrot still lodged in my ass, its orange point sticking out. Again my cock betrayed me and the morals I had been raised with, I was going to blow another load at any moment. I couldn’t believe what I was doing, much less in front of anyone. I looked up at beautiful Za’ana as she smiled, kissed the air, then spat on my face again.



“Open! Fill your mouth! Don’t you fucking love jerking off for me Robert?”



“Yes!” I said to appease her and in another second I moaned and came, less volume but more intensely than the last time. Afterward I was blinded, sperm in my eyes, hair, and mouth.



“Play with it! Swirl it around!” she said, referring to my coated tongue. “Use your fingers again, suck them.”



When I was done, I stood up and Za’ana spoke. I could see her out of one eye through a white haze. I was out of breath.



“Very good, Rob. I have to work now. They told you I am not to be disturbed, correct?” She was smiling sweetly as I nodded. “This was the best breakfast I’ve had in a very long time. See you tomorrow? Remember our deal.”



“Okay,” I said, inwardly unsure if I shouldn’t just wash up and get in my truck and take off. This was sick and perverted and I could pretend it was all just a bad dream and never happened. The Virginia border was about two hours away. I could leave when she went for a run later and evade her millionaire boyfriend, I thought.



But, for whatever reasons, I stayed. I realized I felt like I did when I first started sneaking around jerking off, when it was new, dirty, forbidden and exciting. There was a kind of a freedom in having your fate, as it was, decided for you as well. Throughout the day I made several urgent trips to the toilet, thanks to my overly stimulated colon. In between two of those trips I watched her run up the beach. She paused and spoke to an older man, and petted his leashed retriever. She also stopped a couple times to practice martial arts punches, flips and spinning kicks into the air. Za’ana looked like she was no amateur. Their was no need for a boyfriend to fly down here and kick my ass; she could do it herself. I began to wonder if she was really a journalist or if something else was going on, but knew I would not ask any questions. Later, she emerged from her room only once and politely asked to borrow my truck; I offered to drive her but she refused, insulted that I asked if she could drive a clutch. She returned a couple hours later. Her coworker picked her up for dinner and they apparently didn’t return until after I had gone to sleep.



The next morning I awoke, opening my eyes before touching myself anywhere. My ass was a little sore, and made me realize the previous day was real and I had not been a trained monkey in some nightmarish wet dream. I did my usual morning bathroom hygiene routine and headed upstairs to the kitchen, wondering what twisted adventure awaited me today. As I cooked another omelet and time passed, nerves set in and I began to wonder if I should have just left the state last night when I had the chance.



Suddenly I was glad I stayed. Za’ana strutted into the kitchen in a loose orange t-shirt. It was short and had a large open neck and showed part of a white macramé bikini underneath. The suit was a handmade one like I had seen hanging in the local surf shops. It looked more like pieces of a hammock than a bathing suit, the kind most women say they would never wear in public. Apparently my new acquaintance had borrowed the truck to go shopping yesterday, since the t-shirt was local as well. I was flattered she bought it, apparently for me.



“Surprise! I’m a surfer girl!” she said before sitting at the table. Again she invited me to join her, and we had a pretty normal conversation, with my repeated compliments on how nice she looked. As we finished eating, I began to tremble, unsure what or if anything was next. Maybe she was taking the day off, and the bikini itself was the reward.



“More juice please Rob,” she said, “but take off your shorts first.” Za’ana’s smile dropped from her face. “You masturbating pervert!”



And so it began. After she drank the juice delivered by her bottomless ersatz manservant, she had me begin stroking, standing only a couple feet from her face.



She then walked to the counter and grabbed a plastic grocery back and stuffed several small potatoes into it. For a second I thought I was going to get beaten code red style.



“Here, sit down. Tie this around your balls.”



I complied, looping the thin handles around the top of my scrotum and pulling the knot tight. My heart was racing again, as this was getting serious. I was not sure this was worth seeing her naked after all. That’s what strippers are for. I sat, holding the bag full of potatoes in my lap.



“Drop them,” Za’ana commanded.



I gently lowered the bag.



“No! Pick up and drop!” She demonstrated with her hands what I was to do.



I pulled the bag up until it stretched my nuts off the chair, then let go. I grunted loudly as the weight of the bag painfully yanked my nuts away from my body.



“Okay, keep jerking off you fucking pervert! Stand up! Get one leg on the chair and swing that bag around!”



As I stroked and swung my hips, the laws of momentum made the swinging weight even more painful on my nuts. My eyes watered as my lower body cramped up. I could feel that my face was bright red. Just when I was ready to quit and take my chances by walking out on her and the B&B, she slipped the t-shirt over hear head, displaying the revealing swimsuit. It was not much more than a series of strings connected by knots. There were panels of material woven into the suit at critical places. They covered, just barely, her pubic area and tits.



“Nice hard cock again, Rob! You love jerking it for me, don’t you?” She said as I took in the view. She made kissing motions and teasing, mock adjustments to the strings of her suit.



Her body was thin but not boney; she had good muscle tone, a flat stomach and moderately wide hips. Despite her naturally bronze complexion, she had some tan lines, although they matched the golfer’s pattern of a tank top and shorts. Za’ana’s breasts were small, low on her ribcage but protruded nicely. She had a few scars on her limbs, but no tattoos or piercings that I could currently see, except her ears. I kept stroking and gawking at her, and a dinner plate for my jizz was placed in front of me on the chair. Since she was close, she spat in my eye.



Soon she was flogging my ass again with the swatter and an intense burst of sperm splattered onto the plate. After I had tilted up the plate over my head to coat my face, she slapped my jaw with the swatter, and jizz went flying everywhere as she laughed. Finally, after I licked the plate clean, I was told to free my aching balls from the bag of potatoes. I was catching my breath, happy that at least I didn’t have to stick anything up my ass this time.



“Okay, out here, I’ve got another surprise,” she commanded, pointing to the front porch. The front deck was covered and enclosed with screens, but could be seen from certain angles beyond the dunes and swaying sea oats. I reached for my shorts.



“No fucking shorts! There’s no one around! Get your bare ass out here or I call my fiance!”



The view I had of Za’ana was from the side as she held the front door open. There was bare skin from her neck to her foot, crisscrossed only by a two strings. I walked out onto the porch, in a t-shirt only, fully illuminated by the morning sun. My embarrasment over potentially being seen bare-assed was forgotten when I saw my next challenge.



Besides putting on the bikini, Za’ana had been a busy girl earlier this morning. She had gotten into my truck’s toolbox. One of the wooden benches was placed in the middle of the porch. Screwed into the top was a small shelf board. To that board, attached from the bottom, was the lower seven inches of a table leg, its rounded end sticking strait up. It looked like it was coated with Vaseline. My drill, hand saw, and the sacrificed end table were placed in the corner.



“Another surprise! Shove that wood up your fucking ass and show the neighbors and the fishermen how good you can jerk your cock!”



If someone on the decks of either one of the neighboring houses in the distance or someone on the beach at the shoreline was really looking, they might be able to see. I walked over to the bench and realized this homemade dildo was over an inch and a half wide. This was going to hurt like hell. Za’ana sat on another bench and leaned in behind me to watch close up. I spread my ass cheeks with both hands at her direction and slowly lowered myself onto the wooden leg. Despite the lube, it started to spread the ring of muscle around my hole painfully, and I pulled up.



“It’s too big. I can’t do this!” I said, breathing hard, staring out at the crashing waves.



“What?” Za’ana stood and walked around to face me, her hair blowing in the breeze. “You don’t like my presents? I wear this whore outfit and make a nice wood pole for you and you don’t like? I’m going to get my phone!” Her small tits jiggled in the flimsy bikini as she gestured angrily.



“Okay! Okay! Don’t call! I love your presents!” I said. “And I’ll keep trying…”



“You sit on that fucking wood stick all the way in your asshole Rob!” She moved in closer and spat in my eye, which was stinging from sweat already.



As she watched behind me, I descended again, trying to relax my spinchter. On the fourth, grunting try, I was able to align everything and get it inside. My breath was quick and shallow as I slowly slid the rest of the way down. My anus throbbed against the solid wood. Relieved, I began to yank on my cock, which had betrayed my upbringing once again and grown during the ordeal.



“Now, stand up!” she said.



I stood up, freeing the post, and then had to noisily repeat the tense entry several times at her insistance. A truck would be able to drive into my asshole when she was finished with it, I joked to myself. Just when I had gotten settled in, growing slightly acclimated to what felt like a baseball bat up my ass, she spoke again.



“Up and down! Faster!” Came the command from down low and behind me. Maybe her journalism specialty was proctology, I thought. Such inane thoughts diverted my attention from the throbbing mush that my asshole was becoming.



I began to ride the dildo, my stroking hand moving at twice the pace. My knees and thigh muscles were starting to burn a little. I had chills up and down my spine and was sweating to the point that all traces of earlier sperm load that I had to smear on my face were gone.



Za’ana, who had apparently had her fill of watching the destruction of my rectum, came back around in front of me, spat on my cheek, then backed away. She cheered me on as I kept stroking, making kissing motions with that beautiful mouth. She began to play with the bikini strings, which tied at the outside of each hip. I watched as she tugged teasingly as the suit began to fall away. She spun around quickly, holding the fabric just low enough to reveal most of her beautiful, quivering ass for a minute or so, bending forward, bouncing on her heels and arching her back. She looked back over her shoulder and told me that she knew how much I loved doing these things for her. Her red nails dug into the soft flesh as she grasped a handful of cheek and caressed it, then slapped herself just like a stripper. I took in the awesome view, frantically whacking away at my stiff dick, until I announced I was coming. She quickly pulled the bikini up and turned around, and told me to shoot into my other hand. After I lifted myself off the dildo, I was told to bend over and display my open, ravaged asshole to Za’ana while I wiped my load into my ass crack. She watched and laughed and commented in English and another language as my dripping, distended rectum slowly closed. Soon she and her macramé swimsuit had disappeared into her room as I limped back to mine.



Later, she left for a run, and again I watched out the window. Oddly, she encountered the same man with the same dog again, in practically the same spot, even though it was a different time of day. She crouched down to pet the friendly Golden Retriever, and adjusted the dog’s collar. Throughout the day, I could hear her in her room, at times yelling on her cell phone in what sounded like a least two different languages besides French. I also knew she would scale the stairs to the rooftop deck in the wee hours of the morning with one of the aluminum cases. I reasoned she had a satellite uplink and was sending her story to her news service, whoever they were. Or, maybe she was a covert agent and the man with the dog was her contact, and the retriever’s collar held a microchip with top secret information; but I had probably been watching too many spy movies. Later on the same day as my front porch anal ordeal, Za’ana was dressed in her long dress and headscarf once again, lugging a suitcase out to her coworker’s van. It was plain white with no hint of what media outlet she worked for. I found a computer- printed note on the fridge that said she would not be back for a few days.



I took some ibuprofen and slept for a while, then packed up my stuff. I was going to leave, but never got around to it. Other than frequent trips to the bathroom, the next few days were very quiet and I found myself missing her and the adrenaline rushes she created. I thought about her evident appetites, and realized it must be hard to find someone, especially in whatever closed society she came from, that would aquiesce to her demands such as I had so far. Za’ana had kept her word about showing some skin in return; her jiggling ass was beautiful. I decided not to abandon her or the B&B in desolate Rodanthe just yet.


3″Get some in your mouth! Open up!” Za’ana said with enthusiasm, leaning forward, undaunted by the overspray caused by the random breeze.



I winced as my piss spashed onto my face and stung my eyes, then the sharp tasting, salty liquid passed my lips. The slight smell of the beer was detectable as well. I directed the over half minute-long bladder elimination up and down my body, drenching me and creating trails down the roof shingles below the deck. Suddenly I started to get cold. It doesn’t stay warm long apparently. That was okay, as I was ready to see her soaked as well.



Za’ana’s tone changed once again to a serious one. “Now you shit your pants!”



Again I felt duped about the whole deal and began to wish I bolted when I had the chance. But I wanted to see her naked. So, I relaxed the other set of muscles for a moment until I felt a soft warm foreign object between my cheeks. I rolled my hip up to show her, as the wet pajamas were now see-through. It was just the solid start of a massive beer shit that was building within. My ass was still I little sore from days ago and holding back was taking some effort.



“No! All of it! Let’s see that pizza! Let me hear your noises!”



I returned to my slouching position. By ‘noises’ I assume she meant gas, so I unclenched and let everything fly. Random and repetitive gurgling, squishing and plopping noises accompanied the feeling of warm soft mush that forced its way up my ass crack and down between my legs, pulling the cheap, soaked pajamas tight agaist my thighs. My hips jolted as I squeezed out the remaining liquidy goop. The smell wafted across my nose.



“Oh that stinks, even up here in the wind!” she said, smiling but holding her nose. “Sit up and smear it around.” She moved her hips around to demonstrate what she wanted.



I raised my hips and planted my butt on the bench. It was like sitting in a big mud puddle. My ass slid around, pressing brown liquid out through the pajamas.



“Very good Rob! I’ll be back ” Za’ana said, as she dashed down the stairs.



A slight panic overtook me. It was a Sunday morning. By all rights I could have been in the dorm, waking up next to some smoking hot sorority girl that I had banged the previous night. But I knew that my geeky attempts at romance were mostly dismal failures, and I would have most likely have been alone. So here I was, on the upper deck of a beach house, soaked in piss and wallowing in feces. I wondered if a guy with a video camera was going to appear any minute now.



The paranoia disappeared and my cock twitched as Za’ana returned. She was soaking wet, covered with goosebumps, wearing the new yellow see-through top and the macramé bottom from the previous day. Her small tits were stunning, with dark, erect nipples as big as macadamia nuts. Her stiffened, gathered areolas were each peppered with a ring of bumps the size of buckshot. She exclaimed several words in one of her languages, apparently about how cold she was.



“You like?”



I answered her unnecessary question with an enthusiastic yes and immediately I began to stroke my dick, which had been sticking out of the fly of the piss-soaked pajamas the whole time. A softball-sized patty of shit was suspended between my legs beneath my balls, and the deck looked like a coffee maker accident, with brown liquid dripping from the seat.



Za’ana stood and smiled as I yanked on my stiffening dick. A dialouge about how much I loved shitting my pants and jerking off for her ensued. In no time I was ready to shoot, and I grunted as most of my load splashed into my other hand. Now that I had come and smeared it on my face per her instructions, I was hoping she would let me go down to that outside shower and rinse off for an hour or two. She had other ideas.



“Jerk again. Scoop the shit out and rub it on your balls and cock!”



I had managed to keep my hands free of shit so far. Squeamishly I reached down and encountered the putrid gunk that had been in my colon minutes before. I got some on two fingers and slid them across my soft dick.



“More! Whole handfuls!”



So I dutifully retrieved more and slathered it all over my groin. I stared at this beautiful girl as the brown mush, no longer warm, flew off in several directions while I used it like a thick lube to jerk my dick. There was more traffic on the highway behind me and the sun was climbing higher in the sky. Anyone on the beach within a hundred yards could have easily seen what was going on. Still, I stroked away on my brown coated cock, staring at her beautiful face and tits, finally coming after several minutes.



I spent the next two hours cleaning up. What a mess, even after a long outside and inside shower and cleaning under my fingernails I could still smell it on my hand. But, it had been a rush and was worth it. Breakfast ended up being served at lunch time. I couldn’t believe she let me prepare her food after I had been ground zero for germs earlier. Later, as I dragged a garden hose to the upper deck to wash it down, I watched her run down the beach, again meeting the man with the retriever.



I had no contact with my twisted housemate until the next morning. She awakened me even earlier, by spitting on my face several times. She was in a foul mood, but was dressed the same, in a zippered hoodie and shorts. Again I was not allowed to use the bathroom, so I knew what was coming. I had refrained from taking a dump before now, since a low volume might be constrained to be reluctance on my part.



“Here, you fucking nasty masturbating pervert, Put these on,” Za’ana said. “Now!”



As she gestured, it looked like whatever she wore under her hoodie was not very restraining. Maybe today was braless t-shirt day, I hoped.



I expected more high-fashion three dollar pajamas, but she handed me a package of panty hose. I rolled my eyes and clumsily stuffed my legs and naked body into them as the saliva from her wake up call drained down my neck. The beautiful but incensed brunette had me take one of my keys off the nightstand and tear a hole in the front of the panty hose for my dick, which was to remain sticking out. She had me slip on a t-shirt and once again we were on our way to the top deck. I felt really stupid outdoors in the weird-feeling hose with my soft pecker waving around, but that was her intent. Expecting the same routine, I sat in the same corner.



“No. Stand. Face me. Stuff your dick inside, pointing up.”



I did so, and the hose stretched across the underside of my cock, which was growing slightly.



“Now face the sun so I can see. Piss, no hands.”



I felt the warm liquid travel up as far as the waistband before it cascaded down my legs and puddled at my shiny, enshrouded feet, dripping through gaps in the deck boards. Soon the breeze chilled my legs.



“Nice, turn around, bend over. Let’s see your bowels! Show me the leftover pizza!” she barked, referring to my dinner last night.



A loud, long, trumpeting fart ensued, and Za’ana cheered and clapped lightly, to my surprise. I squeezed ardently, and felt the stretchy material resist my effort to lauch my thick rockets and soon felt them flattened and bulging, creeping slowly down the back of one thigh. The smell was sharper but less intense than the day before.



“Okay turn around. Stick your hand down the back and scoop and start jerking with your nasty shit. Sit and smear it again.”



As I followed her instructions and realized there had been no bargaining for wet bikini tops yet, so today might be a freebie for her. I would have to rely on my memories of the previous day’s fantastic view if necessary. I coated and briskly pumped my cock, stopping only to tweak the head a little or play with my balls.



To my surprise, Za’ana reached down to her waist and slid her running shorts off to reveal a shiny yellow bikini bottom. She had carried up a bottle of water, which I had thought was strange. Now I knew why.



“Look at you! Sitting in shit and jerking your hard cock and loving it, aren’t you Rob?” Her voice and accent carried above the wind.



“Yes!”



“You know this is the transparent suit like the top yesterday. Do you want me to pour this water on it?” She shook the bottle. “Maybe I should drink it?”



“Pour it! Don’t drink it!” I pleaded as my arm continued flailing up and down.



Za’ana sat up and held her thighs together, pushed the hoodie up and slowly poured the water onto her lower stomach, and the crotch of the yellow suit became transparent, revealing a dark bush beneath.



I kept yanking away as she teased me more.



“You want me to open my legs like a common whore?”



“Please!”



My eyes were locked on her as her thighs slowly spread. She splashed more water, making a puddle beneath her. It became apparent that there was a sweet pair of protruding, thick, irregular lips crammed into that small bikini bottom. They moved as she scooted her hips and then she harshly tugged upward on the suit, creating a deep divide between them. I could hold back no more, and shot into my clean hand. She closed her legs but maintained the camel toe as I held a palm full of sperm, tinted slightly brown since some of it contacted my shit-coated fingers on the way out. She had me drizzle it on my extended tongue this time. I started pulling on my dick again as I watched her unzip the hoodie. The sun was rising behind her and obscured my view somewhat, but it looked like I was wrong about braless t-shirt day. She wore nothing underneath.



“You like? I dressed up like a high school slut just for you Rob.” She looked at me with those stunning brown eyes.



Za’ana gradually opened the jacket, showing me her beautiful bare chest. She scraped the zipper across her nipples, then rubbed and yanked on them, causing her whole tit to jiggle as it snapped back. She thrust her ribcage forward and hips back playfully, then bounced up and down on her butt for several seconds.



“Look, I’m jerk off Rob!” she said insultingly as her tits gyrated around chaotically, “Sticking the wood up my ass! Pissing and shitting myself! I love doing perverted nasty things for Za’ana!”



The sight of her gorgeous face and those perfect tits is not one I’ll ever forget. It wasn’t long before I was shooting again. My fourth load in two days, it wasn’t big but it felt good as is flowed out of my shit-coated meat. Another long cleanup ensued, and she left soon afterward for several days. Like a drug addict, I was hooked, and couldn’t wait for her to return.


4Slowly I went through cycles of pain and concentration, holding up the water jug as long as possible, lining up my asshole with the wood, sitting on it, resting for a moment, and then lifting again. Mercifully her jacket and shirt came off pretty quickly. After about five cycles she was ready to lift her black sports bra over her head. I was sweating like a pig, had chills from my colon, and my lower body was cramped in pain. Still, I managed to get a foot up on the bench, stretching the panties to their limit across my thighs, with my stretched nut sack sticking out the back. This position actually took some of the weight off my balls. I wanted to see those beautiful tits again.



Za’ana grabbed the hem of the bra, but then switched to her shorts, slipping them down her thighs to reveal a regular pair of low-cut cotton panties. Finally, she pulled the bra up over her head and freed her quivering tits, their puffy dark nipples pointed right at me. Next I watched her panties slide downward, and her dark, trimmed bush appeared. The crotch of the panties was reluctant to let go, as if her pussy was wet and made the cotton clingy. She looked at me and stepped out of them, muttering a few words, in French I think. I let the jug fall, releasing the pressure on my aching nuts, and nearly passed out from the heat and trauma to my scrotum. But my eyes were locked on her pelvis. She had small, tight outer pussy lips, but her inner lips protruded severely. They were a healthy pink, but looked like two strips of thick bacon had partially slipped back out after being stuffed on their edges up into her slit. She walked toward me and got close enough to spit on my face three times before retreating.



“Do you like me like this, a naked slut like on the wild girl videos? Okay, start jerking it more. Use the messy shit from your face to get it slick. “



As I started pulling on my slime-coated cock, my gaze was transfixed on her naked body. She casually leaned against the railing, with her back towards the ocean. She stood and taunted me, asking me if I liked her acting like a whore, tugging and twisting her nipples between a thumb and forefinger. Za’ana sucked on a finger for a moment, then let the saliva drain out of her mouth before lowering the finger to her bush and then sliding it between the folds of her overflowing pussy lips.



“Oh! Oh! I’m coming! I’m coming!” she said, rolling her head around then laughing, speaking in another language, but the word ‘porno’ was clear. She then picked up her panties off the bench, and held them up.



“Would you like these Rob? Do you want to smell my parfum?”



I begged her repeatedly, and she eventually held the crotch directly in front of my nose. Even with my nostrils caked with shit, I could detect her salty smell, and soon my other hand was once again dripping with sperm. I bent over and wiped it above my raw, widened asshole once again, and she sat naked and inspected her handiwork. All too soon she grabbed her clothes and disappeared into her room; leaving me alone on the porch.



The next morning I stood in the kitchen making breakfast, wearing the bra and panty set, which had to be hand washed, as instructed. I felt like the worst was over. What could possibly be more gross than mouthfuls of someone’s shit? I was nervously waiting to find out. Za’ana walked in covered by a short, shiny lavender robe. She was possibly naked underneath, since her tits were dancing around beneath the thin material every time she moved, and I could detect no panty lines when she faced away from me. The exotic brunette was stunning, in full makeup, but I assumed that meant she was leaving soon after breakfast on another road trip. We had a nice, pleasant conversation, and kind of lingered over our plates and juice.



“Ready for more fun?” she finally asked.



“Please!” I hoped the fun include the removal of that robe. Moments later, we were on our way back down to the same bathroom. After opening the door I was relieved that there was no odor and no plate waiting for me, but I could deduce what was likely going to happen. She probably selected this room since it had a wide oval tub.



“Lie in the tub you fucking nasty Rob!”



So I reclined in the tub, with my head flat on the bottom and my legs sticking out the end. Za’ana took the robe off, and sure enough, was naked. I took in the brief view of her beautiful body before she unceremoniously sat on the toilet and began to pee. I was afraid she was making a cocktail I would be asked to drink later. She stood up suddenly, didn’t wipe, and stepped up onto the edges of the tub. My next view was of her gorgeous pink pussy, descending toward me as she squatted, straddling the tub. Her wispy dark pubes continued alongside her lips and surrounded her brown concave asshole. She was facing away and her crotch was less than two feet above my face. My dick was stiffening inside the lacy panties.



“Open!” she commanded. “Beg me to taste my piss!”



I complied, and a short trickle of golden liquid splashed on my face and tongue. It was salty and tart, due to the fruit juice she always drank. It was just enough to taste, so I was spared the full contents of her bladder, at least for now.



“You like this huh?” she asked as I watched her tug and play with her flared, excessive labia. She then rubbed her clitoris, which looked to be swollen to a size larger than a peanut. I watched her blue painted nail disappear knuckles-deep inside and then withdraw as she began to gasp and finger fuck herself for a couple minutes . This was great. I thought about how many women I met over the years that I would have loved to have seen naked, and here was a woman I had only known a few weeks playing with her pussy close up. No dates filled with conversational guesswork, no romantic fumbling, just a view of sweet female flesh. I could hear moaning from above, but then what sounded like a gulping noise.



Suddenly her hips jolted and a column of pinkish-brown chunky liquid splashed onto my stomach and crotch, where my dick had stiffly emerged from one of the leg holes of the frilly panties. It was warm and the sour, acrid smell permeated my nose and I began gagging violently. I had been so absorbed with looking at her pussy that I didn’t notice her other hand which had apparently been down her throat. A second batch of partially digested whole grain waffles and fresh fruit fell closer to my face, dripping off Za’ana’s inner thigh.



An instant nausea overcame me and my face felt flushed. I tried not to puke, but my body convulsed as I turned my head to the side and spewed a little of my own foul concoction. The taste in my mouth was horrific, and I coughed and grunted, trying to clear my airway. My tormentor quickly raised up. Even in my distracted state, I noticed her ass jiggling nicely as she stepped out of the tub. She bent over to face me, her pointed, hanging tits swaying around. She was angry, and leaned in to spit on my face a couple times.



“What? I show you my vagina and give you a nice warm present to jerk your dick with and this is how you thank me?” She gestured wildly, and began yelling in another language. “Maybe I should just leave. There are plenty of houses to rent.” She grabbed her robe off the hook on the door.



“No! Don’t go! It was an accident. Here, see?” I said, sitting halfway up. I slid out my dick, rubbed her lumpy vomit on it and began to stroke. “Can I please have some more?” Panicked, I had to convince her to stay.



“That’s better. Rub it all over, you nasty perverted masturbating Robert!”



Like a patient in an asylum, I rubbed her stinking puke on myself, chest to knees with my free hand.



“Well, your cock is nice and hard. I guess I will stay. Open!”



Another mistake. I meant more puke on my body. I watched her finger disappear beyond her parted lips. Her shoulders lurched and she spewed a mouthful of acidic vomit towards my face. What didn’t land in my mouth splattered onto my cheeks and neck. I gagged once more, but luckily the remnants of my own barf buffered the taste of hers. My tongue pushed out as much of the chunky liquid as possible, creating a beard of sorts down my chin. What came next was inevitable.



“Now, beg for my bowels to be in your mouth! You are such a nasty perverted bastard, Robert!”



“Za’ana, please shit in my mouth! I want to taste it again. Please?” I whined as my arm moved up and down. I repeated this a few times, then laid down, holding my vomit caked jaw open and pointing to it.



The beautiful naked brunette laughed, mumbled some unintelligible phrases and hopped up, returning to her perch, straddling my face. She began rubbing her clit again as I noticed her asshole begin to spasm and widen.



“Catch it in your fucking mouth!”



I lined up my open mouth as best I could with her rectum, jaw extended, bracing for the smell. A small dark spherical shape slowy started to appear as her brown, wrinkled ring of flesh yielded to its contents. The small, solid tip of the bulging formation fell off, hit my tongue and landed back by my molars as the scent drifted into my nose. A gentle squishing noise emanated from overhead, and soon a large, dark, well compacted, zepplin-shaped log was hanging inches from my face. I lifted my head slightly to meet it, and a moment later my mouth was once again host to Za’ana’s shit. The stink of the seconds-old torpedo was incredibly strong, and I gagged deeply, but it seemed to numb my senses faster. The weight of it caused the softer upper end to fold over, resting on my upper cheek, partially in my field of vision. Above me, I could see the ragged end where it separated from the rest, suspended from her partially closed asshole.



Za’ana raised her butt and looked down between her legs to see how our game of catch was going. She smiled broadly, the undersides of her breasts momentarily on display as she leaned forward.



“Very good Rob, don’t move! Keep the maird in your mouth and feel it melt away! Isn’t it delicious?”



I hummed a positive response, jerking spastically on my cock.



She crouched again, revealing her flexing asshole, this time dirtied by the overflow from her recent gift to me. To my surprise, she then placed a hand beneath it, and expelled a turd the size of half a candy bar into her palm. Her hips rose and she spun around and stepped back onto the floor. She knelt next to the tub and bent over so our faces were only about a foot apart. She looked into my eyes and smiled, almost laughing. I was expecting her to fling it at my face. What happened next was a shock.



With her hand near her chin, she licked the side of the turd from end to end several times like it was an ice cream cone, then slipped it onto her extended tongue. Suddenly it disappeared beyond her dark red lips. She moaned loudly and rolled her eyes and shimmied her shoulders with pleasure as her jaw moved about for several seconds, then her lips opened to reveal thick brown blobs on her teeth and glistening, mashed shit on her tongue. She closed her lips and swallowed, moaning again. She laughed with her head tilted back slightly, displaying her emptied mouth. I realized this was a continuation of the paced revelation of her forbidden secrets to me; first her naked body, then her craving for excrement.



“Rob, your cooking is so fucking good I must have it twice!” She was almost giggling. Za’ana smiled and grunted, and her hand emerged from below her hips with another log, smaller than the last and curled up slightly. This time she looked upward, opened her mouth and extended her long pointed tongue, then dropped it in, repeating the moaning and ingesting routine, while I watched, mesmerized. I could only see her from the chest up, but her other hand seemed to be rhythmically caressing her clit.



Meanwhile, I had been steadily stroking my puke-covered dick and my hips started to squirm, I was ready to shoot. I didn’t think she would notice, since she was so busy with her snack. She told me to stop.



“Why don’t you try?” She pointed to the large turd that was still projecting from my mouth. ” Pull it up, nibble a little off . I want to see you swallow my nasty bowels before you have your orgasm.”



I had been involuntarily swallowing juice from her intestinal tract for the last several minutes anyway, so I did one better than she asked, and sunk my teeth into the turd where it sat, severing the top. I began to chew, my mouth nearly overflowing, and Za’ana kept rubbing her clit while she watched. The separated top of the turd slid down my moving cheek and hit the tub with a thud.



“Robert, I have a confession.” she said, tilting her head but smiling.



The humility was a shock. She was a card-carrying sadist, and the president of the shit eaters’ club; there was not much left to confess. I kept chewing the dense, first strike missile in my mouth, trying not to think of what it actually was.



“That morning, in your room,” she began, ” I was looking for Mrs Cartwright, but when I saw you sleeping and your hard cock sticking up, I crept in and moved the sheet away, so I could see.” She smiled. “A few more seconds and I would have been out in the hall watching you jerk off with my hand in my panties, but that fucking floorboard squeaked.”



I laughed as best I could, and loudly gulped down Za’ana’s thick, gummy shit.



“After talking to you, you seemed so nice, and I had to think of how to get you to jerk it for me. Robert, I also told you lies. I have no fiance.” Her eyes seemed to be misting. “I never thought I would meet…” she paused. “I want to forget the rules, if you still want us to play.”



“Yes,” I said in disbelief. Miss mysterious was opening up to me, and it looked as if she was patting her clit harshly. Her breathing was erratic.



” I wanted our first… kiss to be special…sharing…my bowels.” Little squeals escaped her mouth, as if she was getting close to an orgasm.



I could not believe my ears. My head was spinning, maybe from the shit, maybe from what she was saying. I raised my head to meet hers and our parted brown lips approached. This woman was so beautiful, and at that moment it didn’t matter where she came from, or that we were both psychos. I was crazy about Za’ana. I reached out to hold her upper arm with the hand that wasn’t frantically moving up and down my shaft. We each tilted our heads to the side slightly, moving closely as if in slow motion.



Suddenly a loud banging was heard at the land side ground-level door. I didn’t care who it was, I wasn’t going to answer it, even if the house was on fire. There was suddenly some yelling in a loud male voice, I couldn’t make out the words, probably because it was not in English. The banging was relentless, and sounded like he was using both fists.



“I’ll go see what he fucking wants,” Za’ana’s said, “and send him away!” She then stood and dashed over to the vanity sink, sitting backwards on it and splashing soapy water between her ass cheeks, which I could watch in the mirror. She hopped down and spun around, stuck her head under the faucet, using both hands to wet her hair and her soap her face, then rinsing with repeated mouthfuls of water, leaving the mirror and the counter soaked. She was unable to dry off, since their were no towels in this unoccupied room.



“Stay here! Do not leave this room! I’ll be back in a minute.” She said as she grabbed the lavender robe and rushed out, her gorgeous body disappearing from view as she slammed the door.



Even through the closed door, I could hear Za’ana and the stranger, apparently her coworker, screaming at each other, partially in English, about not answering her phone.



A minute later, I jumped as the door flew open. It was Za’ana, dressed only the open lavender robe and white panties, but hopping into a pair of jeans. A lacy white bra was hanging from her wrist.



“I have to go!” Her eyes were wet with tears. “I can’t explain now! Please understand!”



“When are you coming back?” I asked.



“I’m not! I’m sorry Robert, please don’t ask, just trust me!” She zipped and snapped her jeans and tossed the robe onto the floor. “I need you to do one thing for me. It’s very, very important. If you feel anything at all for me, you will do this. I’m going to put a small silver case under the seat of your truck. Tonight after dark please throw it into the deepest water you can find.”



“Okay,sure.” My stomach twisted into knots. It was over. Maybe not! I could go see her. “Leave me your numbers! I’ll come see you…I’m crazy about you!”



“I can’t!” A tear streamed down her cheek. “When the time is right, I will find you! I promise, Robert!” She bent forward and scooped her flailing, pointed tits into the bra and reached back to hook it, then leaned into the tub to kiss me quickly on the forehead, since my mouth was caked with shit.



I rinsed off briefly and managed to get a look out the window as they left. They were not driving the white van, but an older Grand Cherokee with local school stickers on the back. I got the impression he had stolen it to get off the island undetected. With a cloud of sand from the Cherokee’s spinning tires, she was gone.



I spent the next several hours cleaning up and growing angry at her. That fucking bitch. Putting me through all that, then just leaving, without a way to reach her. Maybe she was married after all. Still, I drove down to the pier that night with my fishing gear, and threw the heavy aluminum case, only big enough to hold a notebook PC, off the end of the pier into the Atlantic Ocean. That night I went to bed in the orange t-shirt and robe, and jerked off while burying my face into the crotches of the two bikinis she left behind. Then I cried myself to sleep.



The next day, I heard on TV that there had been muliple arrests of men and women from several countries involving thwarted terrorist attacks planned against military bases in North Carolina. Out of morbid curiosity, I researched all could on the internet, but could not find any pictures of those arrested. I kept telling myself that I was sure she wasn’t involved.



The weather grew colder, and with no guests at the B&B, I even got a part time job in the village at a gas station to make a little extra cash. I left the windy solitude and sea oats of the Outer Banks before the holidays and returned to my mundane life at college the next January, not even getting a postcard, text, or anything from Za’ana.


5

1Once she calmed down, Za’ana stood and faced me. She had almost as much shit on her as I did. From her knees up to her eyes, she was smeared with brown in patterns similar to those created when waxing a car. Her black hair was plastered around her face by sweat, and to her collarbone on one side, stuck in a piece of clinging, mashed turd. Trails of wet, brown slime ran down her chin and under the necklace, which was caked with shit as well. Her stomach, navel filled with feces, and chest undulated quickly as she breathed heavily. Suddenly Za’ana yanked on the back of the chair until I was at an angle, and she could straddle one of the arms, one foot on the floor and her other leg resting on top of my forearm. Her inner thigh was warm and moist. One of her gorgeous tits was just out of reach of my mouth.



“You’ve been obsessed with my breasts ever since the beach house,” she said, out of breath, pulling outward on a crap-coated nipple with her stained fingers, nails no longer glossy, obscured by dull glaze of fecal matter. “I saw you looking at them the first day, and you shit your pants just so I would reveal them, didn’t you, Robert? You’re such a sick bastard! Did you think about them as you masturbated, after I left? Have you enjoyed staring at them all this week, you pervert?”



“Yes I did and yes, they’re beautiful.”



“I bet you would love to suck them wouldn’t you? Imagine them in your mouth, your tongue caressing and lips surrounding it…” She tugged and twisted teasingly, then retrieved some shit out of my lap, wiped it on the top surface of her tit and covered the nipple. A stiff blob hung precariously off the end. She wiped the excess crap off her hand by yanking on my throbbing dick several times.



“Beg for my breast, you panty-ass crybaby nasty boy!” She spat in my eye.



“Please let my suck your tits, Za’ana, Please!” I said, back to using only a single eye, spit running down my cheek.



“Again!”



I repeated myself twice, with more than one extra ‘please’ and ended with “I want to suck them so bad.” I was literally bouncing slightly as I whined.



Finally she stuck one of her turd-covered, handful-sized tits in mouth, and my cock jolted upward happily. Her nipple and wrinkled, bumpy areola were stiff, dense and rubbery, and the biggest I had ever had in my mouth, the size of the end of one of my fingers. My tongue circled around as I noisily alternated nibbling and sucking as hard as I could, the morsels of shit long gone down my throat.



As a double treat, I felt her hand, slick with spit-thinned crap, begin to jerk on my cock. I moaned her name with blissful pleasure.



“Tell me when you are close to your orgasm,” she said, “I don’t want to miss it.”



She pulled her tit, now the cleanest area on her body, away to switch sides, made me beg again, and resumed yanking on my cock. The introduction of a fresh, stiffened, shit-covered nipple in my mouth brought me close to shooting.



“I’m coming!” I said out the side of my ecstatically occupied mouth, out of breath..



Za’ana immediately took her hand away and backpedaled, leaving my brown coated dick pointing at the ceiling at an angle, throbbing rapidly, and my mouth empty. She raised her open hand to shoulder level, and I could see her palm and rings were dull with a brown coating.



“Are you ready for your dripping orgasm? Beg for it, you shit eating bastard!” She continued to yell for me to beg her as the sadistic beauty smacked and backhanded my gunky face at least half a dozen times, creating more brown rain that landed on both my shoulders and the floor beyond.



“Please let me come, Za’ana, please!” My cock was aching, and it felt like it was already leaking a little white sample. My face stung from her slaps.



Suddenly I cried out loudly as pain seared up the side of my swollen, stiff dick. I looked down and Za’ana’s middle finger was coiled up and held back by her thumb, ready to flick my cock again. The threat against my helpless dick was the final stimulus, and jizz began to flood out of my pee hole. A shockwave of sorts went through my body as her finger painfully grazed the head, and the semen shot out nearly a foot in the air, catching her off guard as she rushed to catch it in her hand. I shook as the built-up load intensely coursed out with pulse after pulse. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears over my moans, like when awakening from a nightmare.



“Here. Lick your mess off,” she said, shoving a sperm-coated palm onto my mouth, open from being out of breath. I spent the next minute slurping the warm, beige, feces- tinted semen off her fingers as she commented that I didn’t suffer enough torment on the verge of my orgasm. The remaining jizz trickled down my stomach, cutting a path through the smeared crap and into my pubes.



Afterward the beautiful, naked, shit-plastered woman took a plastic spoon from off a shelf, broke a section of the top off, then lowered the sharp edge down to my nuts, poking them, nearly hard enough to draw blood, several times as she laughed and I squirmed and voiced my discomfort. After a dozen jabs or so, she used it like a knife to slice the plastic tape off my extremities and chest. Finally freed, I stood and stretched, pausing to help her remove her necklaces, which ended up in a pile on the edge of the sink. In a few moments my ruined shirt was off and we were standing in the dry tub, with the white curtain closed around us. We looked like members of some primitive tribe, tan all over, with ceremonial markings all over our bodies, courtesy of Za’ana’s colon. She squatted in front of me, and took my soft, sore dick between her thumb and forefinger.



“Piss Robert!”



No problem there, I needed to go for the last hour. I relaxed and felt a warm spray as she waved my dick all over like a celebratory champagne bottle, directing some in her mouth and then soaking both of us, giving a new gloss to our shit spray tans. I was then told to lie in the tub, and sat in a puddle of sepia-tinted urine. I loved the view of her athletic curves from below. I was only partially reclined when she released her full bladder from between those beautiful, brown-caked labia, soaking me from face to knees as she thrust her hips around, giggling loudly.



Next, we stood and kissed again for a minute or so as the flavor of her salty piss lingered, its freshness temporarily overpowering the dull taste of the shit, which always lurked in my mouth with the intensity of burnt, gas station-quality black coffee. Afterward I got the treat of shampooing her hair and soaping her entire body, head to toe, no restrictions. I took my time with her awesome tits and ass. She even had me insert soapy fingers into her pussy and butthole. Of course this all made my cock hard again, but she ignored it, and stepped out as soon as the last of the suds were rinsed off, right before the hot water ran out. She dried off and brushed her teeth for about fifteen minutes, and then cleaned her jewelry with another toothbrush for just as long, as I took the first of two cold showers I would take that night. The second one came after I spent over an hour cleaning the splattered walls, floor and chair with supplies she had apparently pilfered from the housekeeper.



I emerged from the bathroom and received an invite into the bed with her, where she wore a clingy, sheer white nightgown. I drifted off to sleep as she spooned behind me, mumbling about her ‘nice guy’.


2

The lot we finally stopped in was pretty empty. One rust colored Volvo hatchback and one black VW to keep our green Subaru wagon company. It was a little EU rally at the state park. I guess it says something about the type of people we were, driving European cars and going for a day hike in the forest preserve. Of course, for us this was more than just a simple hike, look at the trees, hey is that a thrush, isn’t nature magnificent. Greg and I play on these hikes and play hard. Maybe the Volvo and VW owners were out here getting their freak on as well. Never know, as we’ll probably never see them. Probably. But, of course, it is a possibility, and that is part of the fun.



I quickly downed what was left of my water bottle, and set it on the floorboard. I’ll recycle it later. Greg handed me another, got out and opened the back. I got out and stretched. The warm sun felt good on the bare skin of my arms and legs, even through the thin fabric of my t-shirt, but the change from the air conditioned car ,along with the stretch gave me goosebumps and made my nipples pop hard. Or maybe it was anticipation of the day to come. I cracked the water bottle and forced down as much as I could.



Greg had his pack on and adjusted, canteens slung, knife strapped to his thigh, and camera bag round his waist I had finished about three quarters of the bottle and it was sloshing a bit in my stomach. I offered the rest.



“You had enough?” he asked me, eyebrows up.



“Quite.” I replied, eyes cast down, just a little. “I can take no more.”



Greg knows that’s not something I say lightly. He shrugged, and smiled, took the bottle, and downed it. His throat muscles wrestled one another as he drank, oiled Romans, sweaty and nude, writhing and twisting, cocks half hard rubbing against each other. I was wet watching him drink, and my hands were pulled to my cleftt. I rubbed through the thin material of my shorts. Greg smiled around the bottle as he finished. He handed it back to me and I set it next to its twin on the floorboard, bending over a little too much, teasing just a little.



Greg’s hand against my ass was quick and loud. More a statement to the world, than any kind of reprimand to myself, but I jumped and cried out a bit anyway, from the surprise, and that electric sex current ran through me. His other hand reached in and fell heavy on the back of my neck, just above my collar, pressing my face into the upholstery. Holding me there, he pulled my shorts down over my hips. He spanked me again, and again on my bare ass, and my short slid down my thighs until they were pooled around my ankles. Two fingers explored my sex, feeling the wetness, the tightness. Then with one finger in my cunt and one forced up my ass, I was banged hard till I came quickly, screams muffled in the car seat.



Greg twined his fingers in my hair, tight against my scalp, and pulled me out of the car. Weak kneed and shaky, I stood before him, whimpering and moaning softly. He held his fingers to me, glistening with my wetness. I poked my tongue out and tasted them one at a time, first the salty tang from my cunt, then the dirty bitterness of my asshole. He pushed them into my mouth, feeling my gums, the roof of my mouth, under my tongue. Probing and violating me, making me his. I closed my eyes and suckled. Soon both hands left me, and he walked away.



“C’mon. Let’s get going.” he said, already moving. I shut the car door and stepped after him, forgetting momentarily my shorts around my ankles. I stumbled and caught myself against the car. Laughing at my clumsiness, I pulled my shorts up and hurried after him. Already, I needed to pee.



After about twenty minutes the trail took a bit of a sharp curve to the North. Greg stopped and handed me the canteen. I took a few sips and squirmed a bit from the pressure building up in my bladder. It wasn’t yet urgent, and maybe I played it up a bit, putting on a show for Greg, while he double checked his map and compass. He had a bit of a glint in his eye as he took the canteen back, and took a pull off it before slinging it back over his shoulder, and heading west off the trail and into the woods.



Over the next hour or so the pressure in my bladder built slowly, but steadily, until clambering over a mossy old log, my concentration slipped and a bit of piss squirted out before I was able to clench up again and stop my flow. I whimpered slightly as the warm wet spot spread down my thighs, darkening my shorts. Greg glanced back at me, immediately noticing how I’ve wet myself. A sly smile flashed across his face. It was time to begin.



“You Ok, Steph?” he asked, all innocence and concern. “Is there something wrong?”



He was going to make me tell him, make me participate in my humiliation just a little bit more. I got a little anxious, and for a moment I didn’t want to debase myself, wanted to wait him out, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and had to take what he wanted from me. But the throbbing in my bladder wouldn’t wait, nor would the throbbing in my cunt. It was time to begin.



“I’m sorry, Greg.” I said, casting my eyes down. “We were making good time, and I didn’t want to stop. But I gotta go so bad, and I, well I wet myself a little.”



I just stood there squirming, as Greg looked me over. After a moment he clucked his tongue, and shrugged out of his pack, leaning it against a tree.



“Well, I guess you did, didn’t you. Now what are we going to do about this?”



Greg reached out and put his hand on the wet spot, grinding it up against my clit. I moaned and leaked a little more before I could clamp down. A little piss sprinkled into Greg’s palm. Grunting a little in mock disgust, Greg wiped his hand on my t-shirt, coping a quick feel of my left breast. The dampness caused my nipple to appear through the thin fabric, wrinkled and hard around the silver ring. Greg flicked it with his middle finger, then gave it a quick twist. Moaning, my knees buckled, and I pissed just a little more. Greg clicked his tongue again and stepped back, pulling out his camera. I winced and bit my lower lip, squeezing my thighs together. Greg began snapping pictures.



“That’s just so dirty, Steph” he said, “Do you like being such a nasty little girl?”



I kind of shrugged and kind of nodded, glancing away.



“Look at me, Steph.” he ordered, clicking another picture. “Tell me, do you like it? Huh? Do you get off on being such a dirty little piss girl? Tell me.”



I moaned squeezing my thighs together, squirming in desperation. Greg snapped another picture. A light breeze picked up through the trees, cooling the damp spot on my shirt. My nipple hardened painfully around it’s ring. My bladder throbbed and all the muscles in my pelvic region cramped up.



“Please, Greg. I’m sorry.” I moaned, squirming. “I do, I get off on it. I’m a dirty little piss girl. Please, I have to pee so bad. I’ll do anything you want, anything.”



“Anything?” he asked, leering. “Anything, huh. Well then, I guess you’ll be my piss whore.”



“Oh, God” I moaned, grabbing my cunt. I wasn’t sure if I was trying to help hold it in or get myself off, but I managed to do a bit of both. “Yes, I’m your piss whore. Tell me what you want.”



“Take off those filthy clothes.”



I nodded, and yanked my t-shirt over my head. Greg snapped more pictures with the t-shirt tangled around my neck, as I stretched up to hang it on a tree branch, and as I hooked my thumbs on my waistband and shoved my shorts down to my ankles. I stepped out of them as carefully as I could while keeping my knees pressed together, and trying not to bend forward and put pressure on my bladder. Then I stood before him wearing nothing but my socks and boots, and my collar.



“Lace your fingers behind your head.” He commanded.



I did as ordered, thrusting my breasts out, biting on my lip and clenching my eyes, as if it would help me clench down below. Greg walked around me, getting pictures from all angles, before coming in and picking up my shorts. He spent a moment examining the wet part, rubbing the fabric between his fingers, giving a delicate sniff before pushing it into my face.



“See what you did.” He said, rubbing the pissy crotch in my face. “You’re such a naughty girl, I just don’t know what I’m going to do with you, or with these soiled items.”



My bladder spasmed again, and I moaned, writhing trying to feel some relief. Greg tossed my shorts aside and smacked my ass. And again, bright sharp electric sensations ran through me. And again, on the other cheek. Briefly, I stopped thinking of my bladder.



“Spread your legs, whore.”



He whispered in my ear, pressing tight against me. I could feel his hardness against my ass, grinding. I had excited him so. My helplessness had such power over him. Giving up my control gave me so much in return. I groaned and spread my legs, taking care to grind my ass against him as I did. I felt him breathe in my ear, a voiceless moan of his own. He laid a hand on my mound, cupping my pussy, one finger teasing, testing how open, how wet, how ready. I spasmed, and unable (unwilling) to clench down I splashed piss into his cupped palm, then a trickle before I could catch it.



He raised his piss soaked hand to my face, forcing his fingers into my mouth. The salty sour taste of my urine flooded my mouth. Moaning, I flicked my tongue out along Greg’s palm, seeking it. I sucked greedily on his fingers, letting him know I was with him, that I wanted this, I wanted more. Greg dragged me by the face to an old log, and bent me over. The pressure on my bladder skyrocketed. I cried out and a hot stream of piss sprayed out. Gregs palm fell fast and heavy against me. With my legs spread so, I tilted my pelvis back as far as I could, letting him spank my cunt as best he could. My hot piss splashed on my ass, and my thighs. I sobbed and cried out, and finally stopped pissing, barely relieved. Greg shoved his hand in my face again and I bathed it with my tongue, seeking out every drop I could.



“Don’t move a muscle, slut” Greg said, slapping my ass as he stepped away. I listened, eyes closed, as he stepped away, rummaged in his pack and returned. Practiced and efficient, he pulled my arms behind my back, locked the leather cuffs around my wrists, and locked them together. Bound, trapped and helpless, I was finally safe.



“Oh, Greg. Please. I gotta piss so bad.” I cried, writhing, the rough crumbly bark biting against my belly, my breasts. “Please, I’m yours, do anything you want. Tell me what to do, I’ll do anything you want, but please let me pee.”



“Soon” He said, breathless, wanting. His fingers jammed into me, first two then three, filling me up, raping me. They twisted and wriggled, spreading my lips, stretching my hole. He found that spot, inside and ground his fingertips into it. I felt that pissy pressure sensation in a new place, groaned and my muscles cramped up. He kept grinding at that spot and slipped in his pinky.



The pressure was insane, more intense than anything before, and I tried to let it out. But I couldn’t and it just kept building. Everything was clamped down around his fingers, gripping and squeezing, out of my control. I couldn’t tell if I was trying to pull him in or push him out, but it didn’t matter, his fingers were inside me, and I was caught there, bent over, spread wide and exposed, writhing. I tried to pull away, to escape the intense pleasure pain, and Greg grabbed the snap-lock binding my wrists together and pulled up. It took all my balance and leverage away, and forced me to push back, fucking back against his hand.



“Take it, whore” he ordered over my incoherent moans and inarticulate cries. Sweat, tears and spit soaked my face, picking up the dirt and bits of rotted bark off the log I was grinding against. My thighs and ass muscles turned to jelly and I started shaking violently from the strain. My cunt vibrated around his fingers, and he forced his thumb up inside me.



With a push and a twist Greg slid his fist up into my cunt, knuckles grinding against my sweet spot, and I came, screaming and pissing, for what seemed like an eternity, or the moment that would end my life. I howled, and shook, and collapsed, and couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t see. Greg worked his fist, pleasing/punishing me, taking me, making me his. It went on and on until I could take no more, and beyond. I bucked and writhed and squirmed, and finally froze, rigid, paralyzed. The world stopped, and I felt nothing but my heartbeat in my cunt. Greg drew his fist out, leaving an emptiness that ached and burned. He released my wrists, and stepped back. I waited, helpless.



He stepped back into me, cock out and ready. He pressed against my asshole, and forced his way in. I was covered in sweat and piss and cunt juice, and he slid in pretty easily. He fucked me hard, rough, worked up to a fever pitch. Too overloaded and exhausted to scream, I moaned through another painful orgasm. Greg rode me hard, but after all this build up, not very long. He pulled out, grabbed my by the hair, and pulled my to my knees in front of him just in time to take the first splash of cum against my lips and cheek. I tilted my head back, and opened my mouth, extending my tongue for him, making myself his receptacle. He sprayed onto my tongue, across my nose and into my sweaty damp hair. He pulsed again, spraying the roof of my mouth, then dribbled out the rest, a thick glop hanging from the end of his still erect cock.



I knew what was expected of me. I swallowed what seed he managed to get into my mouth, then delicately licked what was hanging from him. His erection was slimed and tasted strongly of my ass, bitter and strong. I bathed his cock with my tongue, my lips, my mouth, suckling him.



“You’re just filthy, Steph.” He said, lazily fucking my mouth. I nodded, grunting assent.



“We need to wash you off a bit.” He said pulling out and stepping back. “Hold still. I’ll give you what you deserve.”



He aimed his cock at me, and visibly relaxed. I sighed, grateful, and closed my eyes as the first stream of his piss struck my face. A forceful stream, hot urine splattered my face, rinsing away the dust and bark and cum, soaking into my hair, running down my chest and back. My mouth filled up quickly, as usual tasting stronger than my own, more masculine. I swallowed without closing my mouth, causing some piss to fountain out and run down my chin. I was still feeling the aftershocks of my orgasms, and the perverse dirtiness of being used like this added to those sensations, breaking me down. The paradoxical feelings of being cleaned and soiled overwhelmed my brain and I shut down, until I felt nothing but that pride/shame, joy/disgust, ecstasy/debasement of being Greg’s toilet slut.



I swallowed, struggling hopelessly against the cuffs, wanting to feel myself scrubbing at my skin, massaging his hot piss into my hair, my face, my breasts. Wanting to rub my clit, bring myself off in this debasement. I swallowed and struggled, and his stream died down to a trickle which I chased with my mouth, not wanting to waste in on the ground. Finished, Greg tucked his cock back into his pants, zipped up, and headed over to his pack.



“C’mon, Steph.” He said, shouldering his pack. “We have a ways to go yet.”



I struggled to my feet, still shaky and weak kneed. I stumbled over to him, and stood, dripping, feet apart, while he took a long drink from his canteen. I had a sour piss taste in my mouth, and wanted to rinse it out, but my stomach was bloated and sloshing as it was, and my bladder pressure was building again, so needless to say I was conflicted. Also, if I asked Greg for anything now, he could use that in our play, and that danger/excitement dichotomy kind of froze me up, like a shaky, aroused, piss soaked deer caught in the headlights. I just stood there.



Greg grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. I gasped open my mouth and Greg poured from the canteen. I got a good mouthful and swallowed. He released me, and went to collect my discarded clothes.



“I guess I’ll put these in my pack until we can get them washed.” He said. “There’s a stream a few clicks West of here. Well wash up there, then follow it North back to the trail.”



He opened his pack, set my clothes inside, and pulled out my leash. It was a thin, pretty, stainless chain, with a thick, soft, heavy leather loop handle. Greg hooked it to the ring on the front of my collar and dropped it. It fell heavy, cold steel chilling my skin, the leather handle whipping sharply on my cunt. Greg shouldered his pack, settled in, and grabbed my lead, pausing to violate me with his fingers briefly. Just enough to remind me I was his, that he could do with me whatever he desired, and that I really needed a piss.



Greg set off to the west, and I, stripped, cuffed, collared and leashed, and soaking in piss stumbled after him. It was time to begin.



We hiked for about an hour, long enough for me to air dry. Greg would occasionally tug and twist on one of my nipple rings, or slap my ass, or stop and give me a quick choke while he rammed his fingers up my ass, but mostly we made good time. The pressure built in my bladder, making me squirmy. With my hands cuffed behind me, and being led on a leash, I was walking pretty awkwardly, my tits thrust out, my ass sticking up, my knees turned inward, I felt as though there were a hundred eyes on me, glued on my gaping open asshole.



We finally came upon the stream Greg found on the map. Just a little to the south the wood cleared a bit and there was a large boulder jutting out into the stream, warming in a patch of sunlight. Greg honed in on it, like a honeybee to the stamen, and led me to it. It was time to begin.

“What the fuck are you doing Cathy?”



Cathy jumped up from the bed pushing Danielle aside as she ran after her husband of thirty minutes. How the hell could she have been so stupid to get busted like this on her wedding night? This was not happening to her. She knew it was risky but Danielle had been very persistent all day.



“Wait Mark. It is not what you think. Danielle was only trying to help me adjust the straps on my stocking. The straps were too tight and they were tearing the top of the stocking.”



Cathy was telling the truth partially. She was a tall girl and the straps on her garter were a little short for the stockings she was wearing. Her white stockings reached a few inches above her knees. The lace elastic straps from her garter belt were a tad short. Danielle had done her best to attach the straps to the top of the stockings but the tension made Cathy a little uncomfortable.



She has tried to adjust one of the straps during the wedding ceremony but it was a bad case of mission impossible. Danielle had been willing to make the adjustment but Cathy declined her kind offer. Danielle had fast hands which had a way of wandering everywhere. Those fast hands had been busy all day. The photo shoot had been unusually long but once it was over Cathy encouraged Mark to go mingle with his friends while she and her maid of honour disappeared to do some girl stuff. Mark reluctantly obliged her asking her not to be too long. The caterers were very efficient and the food was almost ready.



Cathy raised her bridal gown to show her husband the torn stocking but regretted doing that when she saw the look of disgust on Mark’s face. She glanced down and wished there was a hole under her that she could have falling into and died. Danielle had pulled the slender piece of lace covering her pussy to one side and it was still pretty much in the same position. Her hot dripping cunt was totally uncovered.



“You must really take me for an ass Cathy. You two were having such a good time that you did not even notice me standing here by the door.”



Cathy’s heart sank further. She had been caught red handed by her new husband and there was no way she could deceive him. In desperation Cathy threw herself at Mark causing him to lose balance. They both crashed to the carpeted floor. There was no distinct plan in Cathy’s mind but she knew she was going to have to fight to keep Mark from walking out and exposing her little secret to their families and friend.



“He is such a hypocrite Cathy. I don’t know why you put up with his black ass.”



Cathy was on top of Mark trying her best to prevent him from getting up. She felt some of the fight leave Mark as he turned his attention to Danielle.



“Don’t you dare say another word Danielle or I will make you regret the day you were born.”



Danielle jumped off the bed and pounced on Mark. The two women struggled with him until they were both sitting on top of Mark pinning him to the floor.



“I am sorry to have to tell you this on your wedding day Cathy but this choir boy husband of yours had no qualms about fucking me as recent as last week.”



Mark renewed his efforts to free himself from the grasp of his wife and her maid of honour. The two women were surprisingly strong and he did not want to hurt either of them so he relaxed and allowed the women to savour their little victory.



“That is a damn lie Danielle. I have never fucked you. I don’t even like you. The thought of fucking you makes me want to throw up.”



Danielle was sitting on Mark chest with her breast pressed against his face as she continued to restrain his hands. She had her dressed hiked up to the point where her red lace panty was clearly visible. Danielle released Mark’s hands and pulled her panty to one side revealing her freshly shaved pussy.



“I am yet to meet a man or woman who would throw up at the sight of my beautiful cunt Mark. Stick your tongue out bitch. You know you want to lick my pussy.”



Danielle inched herself forward bringing her cunt within inches of Mark’s mouth.



“You caught us fair and square so you have to choices. You can lick my cunt then fuck both of us or you can run from this room crying like a little bitch.”



Danielle eased her cunt down on Mark’s mouth as he extended his tongue to take a taste of this unexpected wedding gift. He could feel the anger leaving his body as his wife’s maid of honour started grinding her wet cunt all over his mouth and face.



“Yeah Mark. Lick my cunt while your wife takes your cock out your pants and sucks on it.”



Cathy was surprised at the speed with which Mark had given in to Danielle. She could not bring herself to believe that Mark had actually fucked Danielle before. She had known Danielle for many years and fair play was not one of Danielle’s strong points.



Cathy could feel her own excitement rising as she listened to Danielle’s voice directing their little passion play. She knelt between Mark’s legs working his pants and brief down to his ankles. The hardness of Mark’s cock was a sure indicator that even if he had never fucked Danielle before he certainly wanted to fuck her now.



She could feel the green monster of jealousy awaking inside her as she glanced at Danielle’s ass which was gyrating frantically over Mark’s willing mouth. She had just been busted by her new husband but she could not help but feel betrayed by Mark who had only minutes ago pledged his undying love to her.



Could Danielle have been telling the truth about Mark? Had Mark really fucked Danielle a week before their wedding? Why had Mark given in to Danielle so quickly and most importantly why was his cock so damn hard? There were so many questions circulating in Cathy’s head.



This was not the usual wedding night scenario. A new bride should not have to watch her husband sinking his wet tongue in her maid of honour’s equally wet cunt. She could not see Mark’s hands but she was certain that he was caressing Danielle’s ample breasts.



Cathy brought her lips down to her husband’s cock engulfing the head and shaft. This was the second time she would be taking Mark’s hard cock in her mouth. She had been more than willing to suck him off in the past but he kept bringing up all kind of religious reasons why they should wait until they were married.



Religion was nothing more than a lot of mumbo jumbo to her. She really did not care for all those rule and ideas that Mark had been on and on about in the past. When she was ready to fuck Mark would just keep talking his religious trash until she got bored and lost interest.



“Open your mouth wide Mr Mark. I have a little wedding present for you.” Danielle’s voice snapped Cathy out of her mental reverie. She watched as Danielle raised her cunt up from Mark’s face. Shock and disbelief registered on Cathy’s face when she realized what was about to happen. Before Mark could protest the deed was done. Danielle forced a jet of her urine straight into Mark’s mouth.



“You have to swallow it Mark or no more of this pussy for you ever.”



Cathy squatted over her husband bringing her aching cunt down on his hard shaft. They were officially man and wife so Mark could no longer deny her the satisfaction she craved. She enjoyed the intimacy she shared with Danielle but Cathy needed a man to quench the fire that burned deep inside her.



The circumstances under which she was fucking her husband for the first time were strange to say the least but she was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Mark had caught her with her legs spread and her maid of honour’s face buried in her crotch. Now she had something on him that made them even.



Danielle turned around and literally sat on Mark’s face covering his mouth and nose with the cheeks of her ass. She wrapped her arms around Cathy as their tongues entwined. Danielle ran her skilful fingers reached down Cathy’s stomach and found Cathy’s sensitive clit.



Cathy had been close to an orgasm before Mark’s interruption. The sensation of her husband’s cock in her cunt coupled with the way Danielle was caressing her clit drove Cathy perilously close to the orgasmic cliff from which she so desperately wanted to plunge.



She felt uneasy about one little detail. How could Danielle piss in her husband’s mouth like that and make him swallow it as well? She was sure that Mark’s tongue was once again connecting with Danielle’s hot cunt or maybe her asshole. Danielle seemed to posses the ability to get men and women to do whatever she wished.



Their family and guests were waiting in the reception hall. There would be lots of time after the reception to sort everything out. She was a little angry at Danielle but that would pass. After all, it was Danielle who had broken Mark’s resolve to leave and do god knows what. She now had a fighting chance to salvage something out of this very unusual situation. She blocked out all negative thoughts and took the plunge of the cliff of ecstasy. She felt the surge of pleasure shooting through her entire body setting aflame her crotch and stomach. Cathy could contain herself no longer. She summons all her remaining strength and concentrated it into one scream that echoed out into the stillness of the night.



“Shit Cathy. You don’t have to let the whole world know we are in here fucking.” Danielle had her hand clamped over Cathy’s moth to muffle the scream.



“That was so fucking intense Danielle. I felt as though my head was exploding.”



Cathy eased herself up from her husband’s cock which was still rock hard and looking quite menacing.



“That cock felt so damn good inside my hungry pussy.”



Danielle took that as an invitation to try Mark’s cock as well.



“Let see how hard you can fuck me doggy style Mr Mark.”



Mark looked at his wife as though requesting her permission to proceed. “Go ahead and fuck her Mark. I want to watch you tear her pussy up with your long hard cock.”



This was going to be night that all three of them would remember for a very long time. Cathy had just given her husband permission to fuck her maid of honour. She wondered how many brides before her had uttered those same words to their husbands just minutes after taking their vows.



Cathy glanced down at her wedding dress. She had been careful not to allow it to get too ruffled. After all she was still the centre of attraction and would be on show in a few minute in the reception hall.



“We need to get ready for the reception hall so you two better fuck really fast.”



Mark knelt behind Danielle and eased the head of his cock into her waiting pussy. He could not wait to tell his best friend Lance about what had happened. He had always fancied Danielle. He had kept her at a distance to conceal the obvious. The woman had a way about her that just drove him wild with desire.



No amount of prayer and fasting helped to block out the wicked and lustful desires which haunted his days and nights. He had developed a rich, detailed set of fantasies where Danielle was the star. Maybe she already knew of his favourite fantasy judging by the way she had tried to humiliate him.



He was forced to summons all his will power not to cum when Danielle raised her cunt above his mouth and pissed in it. How did she know that he wanted to be humiliated by her like this? Danielle had his attention and he wanted more of this sexy dominating tigress.



“Fuck me you little bitch. Fuck me like you are a real man and you want to tear up my pussy.”



Mark allowed the words to sink into his consciousness. He had finally found a woman who could tap into a sexual vein that only he knew existed. This is what he had been longing for all his adult life. He wanted a strong woman who could dominate and humiliate him.



Danielle reached between her legs and started rubbing her clit. She was surprised at Marks excitement. Most men she had fucked resented being called a little bitch. She had seen many a man lose his erection and his interest in her when she addressed them in this way.



Maybe Mark would be a great subject for her domination fantasies. She had scored a first tonight with Mark. No man had ever allowed her to piss in his mouth and Mark had gone the extra mile by swallowing it as well. She was glad Mark was Cathy’s husband. It would be easy to persuade Cathy to share her husband anytime. The possibilities made Danielle’s head begin to spin.



Danielle worked her fingers faster against her clit. She did not want to be the only one who failed to reach an orgasm. She could feel Mark’s hard cock ramming her pussy relentlessly. This was how she loved to be fuck. She did not care to be handled gently. She needed a little pain to push her over the edge.



“Harder mother fucker! Fuck me harder!”



All caution was gone and the gloves were off. Danielle did not care if all the guests in the hall below heard her. She was in her element and she intended to do as she pleased.



“Oh god. Fuck my pussy. I am cumming. I am cumming. I am cumming.”



This is what Mark had been waiting for. He hated cumming before the woman he was fucking. He grabbed Danielle’s waist and slam his cock into her contracting cunt again and again. He glanced over at Cathy whose hand was under her wedding dress rubbing her pussy as she watched him fuck her maid of honour.



This was the stuff of which Hollywood was made. This was a first for him in many ways. It was the first fuck with his new bride Cathy. It was his first threesome and definitely his first mini golden shower. Danielle was the first woman who had tapped into his secret desire to be dominated and humiliated.



Wedding nights should be memorable and special and his definitely was both. There was no need to hold back any longer. Danielle and Cathy had cum already and their guests were waiting. Marked closed his eyes and grunted as he shot his load of cum inside Danielle’s receptive cunt.

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