Confessions of a Pervert Pt. 03

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Big Tits

“I was now a shit eater!

Upon that realization, even the foul flow of my saliva and shit pooling in my mouth tasted better; it’s presence fueled my already steel-hard erection, and she returned.

In silence she handcuffed my arms behind me, looped a cord about my ball sac, and clipped a steel chain to it. Tugging on the chain, my balls tightened; “Don’t move, slave. I’m going to pull on your balls, and you remain standing there until you cannot stand the pain any longer. Do you understand?”

She leaned back pulling the chain; my balls were in pain. Harder and harder, she pulled on the chain until I had to step forward or I would have passed out.

“Well, I would’ve preferred if you had passed out, but you take what is given,” she said as she gently tugged on the chain and said, “Come this way, slave.”

Slowly she guided me to a door which led to a lower level, outfitted by the Marquis de Sade. A large very ornate chair sat against one wall, and as we approached it, she said, “Kneel before your Mistress’ throne and hear what may be your last words of freedom.

“So here we are, ass licker. So you want to eat my shit, drink my piss—be my slave. Before you say yes, let me detail what saying yes means.

“Nothing thrills me more than to see my piss and shit fill a slave’s mouth. Know I am a vegetarian and I eat an enormous amount of fibrous food, and I shit as much as three times a day. I also hydrate all day long and have to piss several times during a day, so your mouth will be very busy. My shit logs are wide and long. You will have to learn how to bite and swallow them so you do not have them stuffing your throat and killing you before your time.

“As you may have already surmised, I am a sadist; I enjoy having my slaves suffer for me. I am reasonable and not a crazy person, but I love using the whip, the cane and other implements you see attached to my walls,” she said as she swept her arm about the room.

My eyes followed her arm, but, amidst the arcing sweep of her arm, she jerked the chain, and said, “Eyes always here and looking at the floor-always, slave. Be not so bahis firmaları rambunctious as to feel free to do as you please. Your wayward eyes have cost you ten strokes of the cane.”

And she yanked on the chain, my balls screamed in silent agony. I experienced an inward collapse of will, as if my center of consciousness shrunk. I separated from the pain in my balls; it seemed outside of me.

Filling me was only the hypnotic, rhythmic cadence of her voice; in my head little thought sparked about my synapses, only a cloud of worthlessness and a lust floated within me. This cloud bubbled up into consciousness like methane from a swamp. I was born to serve her; I burned to be tortured at her hand; I longingly hungered for her piss and shit.

Yet a sense of the unreal overcame me, and for some time from that point on who exactly I was, where I was, and what was really happening escaped me.

I suddenly saw me watching me kneel before her. What was happening to me was happening to this other, kneeling there lusting for pain, for total humiliation, for total dissolution of who I was, unaware he was losing his life. His cock spearheading this descent into toilet slavery. A place he believed he belonged because it was all that could erect his cock, in illusion, in imagination and in reality.

“Oh, yes, first, if you ultimately say yes to being my slave, know I am asking you to be my full time toilet slave. You will be housed in a secret room that you will discover later, right here in this space. That means you will never see anyone but me and my guests—all of whom will have complete use of you as a toilet slave—women and men.

“[Oh, by the way, I hope you like sucking cock because so many of my male friends love shoving their cocks down a slave’s throat—and, of course, they also lust to ram it up your asshole, sometimes they use lube and sometimes not. My lady friends also love to run a train on my slaves using giant dildos.]

“If you say yes, you will have the freedom to go from here and finalize your life; I will grant you a week to do so; but that is not what I want from you this very kaçak iddaa second.”

I did not speak the hollow words forming somewhere within. She stood and turned around, and, bending over slightly, her ass inches from my face, I yearned to seize the marvelous globes of her ass. Her magnificent round, heart-shaped, large ass touched my face, and she said, “You may touch my ass; oh, yes, that’s it,” and I obeyed like a race horse exiting the gate at a race track.

The aroma of her shit captured my nose,

“—spread my ass cheeks-now bury your nose in my ass crack.”

And my eyes saw the smeary layer of shit covering her ass crack.

“Yes, learn my smell. Ah, you’re so eager; you may be my shiteater. Your tongue, oh, yes, lick up this mess, clean my ass, toilet paper; I didn’t wipe when I went to relieve myself earlier, so get in there, toilet paper; yes, use your tongue, your mouth, seal it about my asshole, penetrate that tongue of yours deep into my asshole. Oh, my god, yes, deeper, deeper, yes, that’s it, fuck my asshole with your tongue, ah, ah, oh, my god!”

And I did. Her ass wiggled about and up and down, not smearing but paining her shit over my face and in my mouth. We were like an animal lustfully fornicating and a starving man eating ferociously and eagerly, my face and her ass became one in a dance Allegrissimo, dance at a very fast rhythm and pace.

And I watched me as I licked clean the shit from her ass crack, the brown saliva leaking from the corners of my mouth, and he swallowed the bits and pieces, tasting the shit’s dead, boring flavor, and loving it.

All of it I loved; it all coalesced into a feeling of peacefulness, of belonging under her ass, of finding a place in the universe where I truly belonged; and knowing I wanted to eat her asshole, to consume her shit and piss, and to be her slave forever. And even I, the outside observer, began to believe that.

She turned from my mouth finally, turning and presenting her vagina beneath my nose. How much time passed is an answer only a physicist could answer. She placed her hand, which had on it a soft pure kaçak bahis white glove, and lifted my head upwards so our eyes locked.

“I now know you are a true shiteater,” she said as the fingers of her other hand began to flick and rub her clitoris. In a halting, impassioned voice, she continued, “You are a piece of shit… and that is why you want to eat my shit. You know you were born to serve beneath me just as I was born to own you and use you. And I personally want you…to be a shiteater; I want to use every and any fashion I damn well please. I am a sadist…who revels in using you shitting down your throat daily…who revels in whipping you until you are a raw piece of meat…and then pissing on your back and ass…and seeing you squirm and scream in pain…as my salty piss runs through your open lash marks,” she stopped as she orgasmed once again.

After a few seconds, she continued, “And it is my belief you want to be my complete toilet slave—am I not correct? Do you want to be my complete toilet slave? Mind you, before you answer—if you become my toilet slave, your life will only be a few years at most. I will only feed you shit and piss—of course, I will feed you quite a bit of shit!”

“Mistress,” I immediately answered, “I want to be your toilet slave. Yes, oh, yes.”

“Well, stand and go to section A,” she said as she pointed at a part of the wall set off by tape. Within this section were various implements for whipping: cat-o-nine tails, dial rods, several canes of various diameters and paddles with and without holes drilled through them. “Choose an instrument for you to get your ten lashes. For your disobedience.”

Sheepishly, I selected a cat-o-nine tails. I handed it to her, and she led me to sort of a sturdy table. I was commanded to rest my chest across the table. My wrists were secured near the table’s bottom as were my ankles on the other side.

“You are to receive ten strokes. After the punishment’s end, I will release you, shiteater. Go upstairs, find your clothes in the hallway in a small basket. Dress and depart quickly. Return in exactly one week. My ass and my friends await our new toilet slave,” she said.

And the first of her mighty strokes began. The bite of the cat-o-nine tails dug into my ass, Nine more fell upon me before I was released. I left immediately.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir yanıt yazın