The Predicament

by Callipygia

I guess all the real trouble started when she began farting in my mouth. It feels strange to even write such a thing, but it’s true. I knelt behind this beautiful woman, opened my mouth over her asshole and felt her gas stream into my mouth. The oddest thing about it? I just stayed there and let her do it; I felt compelled to stay still for her. You may be wondering what the hell I was doing and how I got in this extremely compromising position in the first place. Well it was over a stupid game of Monopoly. Monopoly! Can you believe it?!? But I better start at the beginning…

Michelle and I met at the beginning of the school year. I was a sophomore and she was a freshman. The way our dormitory is set up, the east wing is the girls’ side and the west is the guys’. On that first day everyone was moving in, unpacking their stuff. You had to go through the main lobby to go anywhere in the dorm, so everyone was checking out everyone else — you know how it is.

When I saw Michelle, I reacted like any other normal guy would. She was gorgeous. I’d never seen a girl with a sexier body, and she had a face to match. Long brown hair, vivid green eyes. You figure people like that just don’t exist in real life. But there she was. Thing about it though, she was so gorgeous that most guys just assumed she was either taken or unattainable — myself included.

As gorgeous as she was though, she had a very silly side as well, and it was this side of her personality that allowed us to meet, because I probably would never have approached her otherwise. There she is on this first day, running around the dorm while people were trying to settle and shooting people she didn’t even know with a water pistol. She was giggling and laughing and going after guys and girls — it didn’t seem to matter. Hey, let’s face it; not all freshmen are the height of maturity.

Then she shot me, and I reflexively grabbed her water gun from her and shot her back. Well, that surprised and delighted her. The next thing I know we’re in the middle of a wrestling match over this gun, shooting each other and cracking up. We became instant friends. Looking back on it, I realized she was being flirtatious in a silly way, but I simply lacked the self-confidence to see it at the time. As the weeks went by that fall, she would come over to my room all the time and do nutty things like steal my books or my letters from my girl-friend.

I thought she was so hot, but I could never act on it. Sure there were moments when I could have made a move. If she was not interested in me, she never showed it. She never discouraged me. One time we even slept together (in the non-biblical sense) in her room. We ‘spooned’ all night long, and I had a hard-on the whole time. If she felt it, she never let on. I had a girlfriend, she had a boyfriend, and I didn’t have the balls to try to date her anyway. By the time the fall semester came to a close however, she and I had become such close friends that we ended up scheduling most of our classes together for the spring.

About mid-way through that spring, I got a letter from my girlfriend that she met someone at the school she was attending and she wanted to break up. I knew that I wasn’t madly in love with her, but we had been going out for more than 2 years (on and off) and I was really bummed out. Within the month, Michelle’s boyfriend and she decided to call it quits too.

Michelle and I were just about inseparable from then on, and some people even thought we were dating, but the fact was nothing had happened. Being unattached had its effect though, and we were flirting a lot more, and our conversations seemed to have a lot more sexual overtones.

Then Mother’s Day weekend came, and it seemed like everyone in the dorm had gone home. It was a really crappy weekend too. It rained the whole time, and for May it was unusually cold. Michelle and I started to kill Friday night by studying for our upcoming finals in Biology and Art History. That grew tired real fast so we kicked around different things we could do. She started snooping through my closet when she found my Monopoly game. My mother knew I used to love playing it as a kid, and insisted that I bring it to school, but I just buried it away. Oh, wow! she said, I haven’t played this since I was a kid! Let’s play a game.

Oh, come on, I said, that’s stupid. There’s got to be something better we can do. I was covering a little bit actually — I really did want to play. She begged me to play — probably out of sheer boredom — and I finally gave in, warning but be prepared to have your ass kicked.

We popped up some popcorn and broke out some beers I kept hidden in the back of my dorm fridge and we started to play. It started out friendly enough, but I was surprised to see just how competitive Michelle is as the night went on. I also found out that in addition to being lousy at Monopoly, she’s a really crappy loser, too. She knew almost no strategy and by the time we quit around 3 am, she’d lost 5 games in a row. She was so mad she almost didn’t let me go to bed. When she finally left my room, she vowed that we had to play again on Saturday.

By the time we rolled out of bed it was nearly lunch-time. After we hooked up for lunch, we went back to my room. She started bugging me to play some more Monopoly. I agreed, but this time I started to teach her some of the tricks to the game and explain to her better strategy. She listened intently and became progressively better. As she got better though, she got cocky and started talking trash. I guess I was egging her on a bit, too. Sometimes I really stuck it to her, and by the time dinner rolled around, she’d lost 3 more games.

I was getting real tired of Monopoly when I beat her again after dinner, but she was so gorgeous sitting there on my bed in jeans and a lose-fitting flannel shirt that I didn’t care. Her hair was in tousles from running her hands through it, and she wore almost no make-up, but I don’t think she ever looked more beautiful. The fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra wasn’t lost on me either. Teasingly I suggested that she should show me her chest for all the times she lost, and much to my shock, Michelle the sore loser flashed her tits at me! I’m not wearing any underwear either, asshole, she said. Whoa, I said laughing, slow down there, Michelle. Give me some warning before you do that. I don’t think I can take it.

She smiled at me as she put her hand on her shirt and mockingly threatened to flash me again. We both laughed. You know, she said, You really think you’re hot-shit at this game don’t you?

I told you you’d get your ass kicked, I said. You should’ve listened to me. Actually, something about her sheer tenacity in sticking with the game even as she was repeatedly trounced made me respect her, and turned me on a little bit too…

You could see the ire grow in her at that comment though. On the surface we were just teasing each other, but at some level, she seemed to be really pissed off. Well, I’m thinking I’d like to have my ass kissed, she said. Let’s make a bet on this next game. It’ll be our last one.

You’ve already been beaten 9 times in a row, I said.

Yeah, well, I say we make a bet that you can’t make it 10.

OK, what’s the bet? I asked.

I want my ass kissed, she said. Loser has to do whatever — and I do mean whatever the Winner wants.

Anything at all?, I asked incredulously, not believing my ears. No matter what? What if I want you to take off that shirt of yours and…

I’ll do it, she cut in, Whatever you want. You can fuck me if you want. My jaw dropped. Loser does whatever the Winner wants.

Oh my God, I said, You’re on! I’m going to kick your ass, Michelle!

No, Michael, she said quietly — almost to herself — as she began setting up the board, You’re going to kiss my ass. She didn’t even crack a smile. Her manner was so matter-of-fact, I admit I was a little taken aback. To hide my reaction, I asked I can do anything I want to you? Hell, she’d already said I could fuck her if I won, what the hell else could I want? But I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

And you can make me do whatever you want to you, she said, Anything at all. Let’s say that it’s for a 24-hour period. Starting at midnight tonight and extending to midnight tomorrow night.

What if I want you to do my laundry, or clean my room. Write my Art History paper…

If that’s the best your imagination can do, sure, she said. Something about her answer seemed to suggest she wasn’t going to have me do anything like that if she won. But what could she have me do that I wouldn’t elect to do myself if I did win, I wondered.

Underneath it all, I was a little nervous. I guess that’s why, right from the beginning of the game I started trash talking her. Telling her I was going to make her do all sorts of things when I won. She would reply that there was no way I was going to win, and that I couldn’t even believe the things she was going to do and things she was going to make me do. This went back and forth throughout the game.

The game seemed to get more serious as we went. Sure enough I began to win. As the possibility began to become more remote, I began thinking about what she would make me do if she won. At one point I even began making deals with her when she would hit expensive properties, just to keep her in the game. She never failed to take advantage of my generosity. The game wore on. I ate about all the popcorn I could. I didn’t even want any more beer.

Then something amazing happened. She stopped hitting my properties. Sure she’d hit the dumpy little places like Oriental and Mediterranean, but she started missing my big guns every time. Meanwhile, I hit her best property, Illinois Ave. three times in a row, completely wiping out my cash and threatening my hotels. Unlike me, she showed no mercy. Then disaster hit. I picked up a Community Chest that charged megabucks for all my hotels, and on the very same turn (I had doubles) I hit the Chance that sends you right to Illinois!

I begged her to make a deal with me to pay the rent, but she wouldn’t budge. I had to sell every one of my hotels and mortgage half my properties. She used the money to completely develop the rest of her properties. How ironic that I was put in this position by my own soft-heartedness earlier. I was mad now too, though, and I began playing ruthlessly.

The game and the bet had become deadly serious. I battled back valiantly, but I’d lost my position of dominance. She had the upperhand now, and she had learned well from her previous losses. Sometime after 11:00 she managed to buy Park Place (I had had to sell it), and she gained a lock on the expensive half of the board. The game was over within a half hour. I was a big Loser. And Michelle the winner was letting me know all about it. In the final hour or two of the game, she was making no secret of the blast she was having. She looked like the proverbial cat that ate the canary. I was amazed at how pitiless she had become even when she knew there was no way she could lose. I guess the way I acted, I’d earned that from her.

Now it was time to pay.

It was quarter to midnight or so, and she was going on about how much fun she was about to have. I kept trying to steer her toward things she might make me do, I guess because I was nervous about what she might have in mind. I’m not cleaning your room, I protested falsely.

You damn well will if I want, she said, but don’t worry, Micheal, that’s not what I have in mind… The conversation went on like that until the digital alarm clock beside my bed registered 12:00.

Ah, ah, ah… she cut in, Will you look at the time. I believe the fun is about to begin.

Alright, alright, I said impatiently. I was genuinely nervous now. What do you want me to do?

Well first you’re going to change your tone, she said. Speak to me with respect — utmost respect. I am, after all, the Winner. Oh, and by the way, you are the Loser. She was smiling so sweetly. I think I want you to get off the bed.

It’s my bed. I don’t have to get off it.

Ah, ah, ah, she said again. Yes you do. Unless you plan on not honoring our little agreement. But if you break it, Michael, I swear I’ll never talk to you again. There was no smile on her face.

You’re serious. I said, but she didn’t even change her facial expression. Quietly I got off the bed.

That’s better, she said. Remember, you beat me 9 times in a row and then made a bet. I can do whatever I want with you for the next 24 hours, right?

Yes. I answered. I felt strangely subdued. I felt like I had just handed all rights over to her.

Good. Drop to your knees in front of me, she said and swung both feet off the bed so that they rested on the floor. She was sitting on the edge of the bed. I knelt down. Now kiss my feet. Now she smiled. I leaned over and kissed the toe of one of her socks. She was wearing those rubber-soled socks you use as slippers. To my complete shock, this simple act of contrition had an amazing effect on me; the scent of her feet through the sock coupled with the demeaning nature of the act caused me to start getting a full hard-on!

That’s not my foot, she chided gently.

I guided her sock off and then kissed her big toe. My dick was rock-hard. Keep kissing my feet, she said, noticing that I had paused. I wondered if she knew how totally in shock I was. I began repeatedly kissing her toes. I noticed that I was almost subconsciously sniffing her feet as I did it. I was totally aroused, and wondered if I had a dormant foot fetish or something.

That’s it, she said, the loser starts out by kneeling down and kissing the winner’s feet. She lifted her foot and covered my nose with her toes. Sniff my feet, Loser. Kiss the bottoms. I did exactly as she asked. My knees were beginning to ache on the linoleum tile of my dorm-room floor. Her feet were actually quite fragrant and it occurred to me that she might not have showered that day.

I looked up at her face. When our eyes met she laughed. She said, I’m sorry. It just looks so funny with my foot in your face. She moved her foot so that her toes were pressed against my lips. You know what, she said, I would like to hear you ask for permission to lick between my toes. My eyes opened wide in shock and she laughed again. Say ‘may I lick the dirt from between your toes? It would be an honor to taste the dirt between a winner’s toes because I am a complete loser.’

I felt like she was just testing the waters to see what she might be able to get me to do, but I still found the thought of repeating such humiliating words distasteful. Nevertheless, I made a bet and decided to play along, so I opened my mouth and started to repeat the words she scripted for me, but she pushed her toes over my mouth, muffling the words. She giggled and said, What was that last part? She removed her foot from my face so that I could clearly respond, I am a complete loser. She laughed and offered her foot back to me. Yes, you are, she said, and I began licking between her toes. She leaned back on her elbows on my bed like she was a Princess suffering the company of a peasant. It was annoying and yet strangely erotic. The taste of her feet was fairly strong, and not entirely unpleasant, but I could not shake the feeling of complete degradation anyway.

That was very good, Michael, she said as she sat back upright. But I think I’m going to call you Loser-Slave for the rest of today, OK? Before I could answer, she continued. Now, you’ve been pretty cool about not saying anything to me about it, but I’ve noticed since the beginning of the school year that you are constantly looking at me and my body. The girl continued to just shock the hell out of me. I was speechless. Especially my ass.

Now, I really don’t mind that. But it’s been bothering the hell out of me that you haven’t said anything to me or made any moves or anything. You hurt my feelings a little bit. Made me think I was worth taking a look at, but nothing else. I had to interrupt, Michelle, I think you’re absolutely gorgeous—

Michael — I mean, Loser-Slave, shut up, she said, and we both had to laugh a little. Then she continued, It’s too late for that now. You’ve been staring at my body all year. Now, you’re going to be a slave to it. And don’t get any wrong ideas. You’re going to do nasty things for me, and some you may not like too much. But this is totally for me, not you. Kiss my feet some more and tell me how grateful you are that I’m finally going to let you be my slave.

I’d never been more turned on in my entire life. This girl, who had become my best friend over the last 8 months, had sides to her I hadn’t even dreamed existed. And they were fabulous! I started kissing every inch of her bare foot. Then I pulled off her other sock and gave her other foot even better treatment. I was worshipping her at her feet. I was really playing it up, giving her my best attempt at foot kissing and licking. I really did feel grateful and that sense of humiliation was almost gone.

That’s a good little slave, she said, but I don’t hear you thanking me for the privilege I’m bestowing upon you. At first I was puzzled, and then I remembered about the thanking her for being her slave bit. I didn’t think she was serious. It seemed like we were just going to have sex. She must have seen the confusion on my face because she said, I’m serious. You’ll soon be a slave to this body you’re kneeling to. Literally. Now I want you to let me know how grateful you’ll feel when you service me. She chuckled as she said it. She was clearly loving the moment.

OK, I mumbled uncertainly, uh, thanks for letting me be your slave.

Not very convincing, Loser-Slave. Here, she said and rolled over onto her stomach on my bed, why don’t you put some feeling into it and kiss my ass! I looked at her gorgeous denim-covered ass, and weighed what I was getting myself into. What was she up to? Still, she was right about how I felt about her body. How could I turn down and opportunity to touch that sweet ass?

I crawled up onto the bed behind her, kneeling between her legs, leaned down and kissed her right ass-cheek. Keep kissing my ass, she said. The brusque rudeness of her words was strangely compelling. I felt her lift her body briefly off the bed, and she seemed to reach down to something underneath her, but I couldn’t see what. I pressed my lips against her right ass cheek again. And then again. Then the left cheek and the right. Back and forth. Her ass was so firm and tight. I was surprised how much the simple task of kissing her fully clothed ass was turning me on — I was rock hard! It seemed like I wasn’t the only one turned on though; she kept arching her back, sticking her ass up into my face with each kiss. If it wasn’t her ass I was kissing, it would actually have seemed almost romantic with the building passion between us. I was so caught up in all of it that it took me a second to realize that as I kissed her ass, she was busy taking off her pants!

I couldn’t believe my luck. I felt an empty belt loop slip pass my lips, and then she pulled off her jeans completely, and was left wearing just her flannel shirt and her underwear . On someone less than her, the underwear would have been kind of boring — standard issue, white cotton panties — except that the curvature of her body gave them an amazing shape. There’s something nearly magical about a very nicely shaped female ass; it always leaves me weak in the knees. Those underwear were now the only thing that stood between me and her completely naked lower body!

I thought you weren’t wearing any underwear, I teased.

You’re going to pay for that, she retorted. She lifted her flannel shirt so that her underwear was completely unobscured. The light cloth of the panties rose with the round cheeks of her ass and pulled taught between them over the concealed crack beneath. She tapped the tight fabric there and said, Kiss me right here.

She had arched her back and raised her ass very high, like she was trying to stick her ass in my face. Show me what a good ass-kisser you can be, Loser, she said. I wasn’t sure just what I should do, so I did what she said. I put a hand on each gorgeous cheek, and pressed my face — lips first — into her ass. Like her feet, her ass had a strong scent. She definitely had not showered that day. As though my subtle hesitation had tipped her off to what I was thinking, she laughed and said, Sniff it, Loser!

Unquestioningly, I turned my nose down into the cotton that had been pushed up into the crack of her ass, and in spite of myself, took a deep breath. I could smell her pussy and her asshole clearly. Her asshole was earthy and sweaty, and her pussy was very wet and pungent. As sexy as the musky smell of her pussy was, there was also a strong odor of stale urine mixed in, and that combined with a clearly anal scent reminded me that I was literally sniffing this girl’s asshole, and suddenly it felt very degrading.

How does it smell? she giggled in a mocking tone, Does it smell good down there?

I couldn’t believe how direct she was. How do you even respond to a question like that?! As she began to pull off her underwear, I concluded that she was actually pretty dirty. In fact, I couldn’t escape the fact that I was probably smelling some trace of residual shit! I was sniffing it! And here she was pulling off her underwear… Now’s when I get to really have fun, she said. Kiss my ass — you know where…

I balked. Now it’s not like I never kissed a girl’s ass before, but first of all, I’d never kissed a girl, well there before, if you know what I mean, and secondly, it had always been during what was otherwise a relatively ‘normal’ relationship—meaning I had been dating the girl, and it was during the normal course of sex that things like that happened.

But Michelle wasn’t my girl-friend, much as I may have loved that at the time, and our relationship was turning in a direction that was anything but ‘normal’. I had lost a bet, and while there may have been a sexual overtone to all of this, the ass-kissing Michelle was demanding — rudely — was much more about humiliating me than about any sort of sex, and we both knew it. Michelle’s arrogant words had a cruel tinge to them I’d never heard from her before, and frankly — and this was the trump card — the scent coming off her ass convinced me that this was going to be a very dirty job…

I’m serious, she said, and while you’re kissing it I want you to show me how much you’re absolutely in love with the smell of my ass, like a good slave.

I felt like I was in a dream. I was so conflicted. Part of me didn’t want to do it, of course. The traces of fecal matter I was certain lingered on her asshole right then had put in me in a strange place. I mean, no offense but her ass smelled… well, not to put too much of an edge on it, like shit! I began to think about pressing my lips on it and all the shit residue that might transfer from her ass to my mouth, and how dirty and unsafe it probably was. I imagined it was going to be a disgusting experience putting my mouth on her obviously dirty asshole. And yet I felt strangely compelled. I looked down at her asshole, the little wrinkles and light hairs nestled deep in the most amazing ass I’d ever seen, anywhere. It looked just beautiful, and the audacity of the girl to demand to have this gorgeous, but filthy, asshole kissed played with my head. The crack was so hot, moist, sticky. The scent was powerful, and while I weighed the notion of simply getting up and walking out, bet and friendship be damned, I simply could not move, and then…

…I began to kiss her asshole. I kissed it lightly at first. It was such an act of self-humiliation, but it was soooooo hot! I kept kissing the pretty little hole and the wrinkles around it and her soft sweet ass cheeks. Then I pressed my lips more firmly and wetly against her ass, moving my way down the crack, but pulling up just before I touched her asshole with my mouth again. I tilted my nose into her ass and sniffed intently and allowed my lips to part slightly. While I had felt somehow I should be feeling nauseous, my reaction was the exact opposite. That earthy anal scent, combined with her musky pussy smell had become absolutely enslaving, and now I really was in love with the smell of her ass!

I pulled her cheeks further apart and took a closer look while I continued to sniff her. I couldn’t be sure but I could have sworn that there was a faint brownish ring around her asshole that might have explained the smell. As I considered what it obviously was that made that ring, I once again became filled with doubts. I was still thinking about just how dirty her ass had to be with that smell — that there probably was more than just a ‘trace’ of her crap on and around that asshole, and how some had already been transferred to my mouth. All that bacteria, all that stench, being pressed right into my face —

Stop!, she said, pulling away from me. My mouth opened into a silent ‘what?’ She grabbed her underwear and started to pull them on. Then she stood up and said, I have to go.

Go!? I cried. What do you mean, ‘go’!? Where the hell could you possibly have to go now?? I was reeling from what had been going on, but I was still enjoying it and now she was leaving?!

Easy killer, she mused. I can do whatever I want, remember? If I want to leave, that’s that. Maybe this is all moving a little too fast, y’know? I was dumbstruck. I really didn’t know what to say I was in such a state of blue-balled shock, my cock still ragingly stiff beneath me.

You’re really going to go? I almost pleaded.

Well yes — to the bathroom! I have to pee, you silly! she laughed as she zipped up her jeans. I’ve had to pee for about the last hour now, and all this fun is just putting a little too much pressure on my poor bladder. Don’t worry, I’ll come back — I definitely don’t want to miss what’s going to happen next… she said with an impish smile.

She walked to the door and then turned back to me abruptly like she was about to say something. I must have had a very transparent look on my face because she suddenly looked like she was going to laugh. There, there, she said condescendingly. I know. Poor baby was all into kissing my ass!

Then a delectable look of sheer mischievous delight came over her face.

Hey, I know! she said. You can come with me!

I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about, but the next thing I know she grabbed my hand and started dragging me to the door. It was all just too weird, but frankly I was just a little too stunned to resist. The next thing I know we’re in the dormitory hallway headed toward the other side of the building, where the women reside. Half way through the deserted lobby, she stopped short.

Wait a minute. This place looks like a ghost town but you never know who might still be here. Let’s go down into the game area in the basement. There’s a bathroom off of there nobody ever uses. I dumbly followed her.

We were practically running by the time we got down there. We had to switch on the lights in the gaming room, pretty much a guaranteed sign that no one was down there. We burst into the Ladies room off to the left, and she drug me to a stall and pulled me inside. I stood there gawking at her like a moron as she turned back around toward me and dropped her jeans. I was expecting her to sit, but she just squatted down over the toilet.

The smell in there was almost unbearable. The toilet smelled like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. She just stood there, hovering about a half a foot or so over the john. It stinks in here, I really don’t want to sit on this toilet. She looked at me quizzically for a moment, and then asked, Would you let me pee in your mouth instead?

I just stared at her, dumb-founded, when I heard her let a little trickle of pee go. How about if I say ‘please’… She began to laugh at her ability to simply shock me. Somewhere through it all, I was puzzling over why the fuck she wasn’t just sitting down like a normal person when her pee suddenly increased to a full gush. I’d never imagined I’d ever see anything like it!

Y,know, she said over the rush of her pissing, I’m a huge tree lover. I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about; I was too fascinated by the fact that I was standing in front of a woman taking a piss. I was amazed at how much it sounded like it was spraying everywhere. Maybe that’s why she squats I thought as I gawked down at her. Finally, I heard her pee slow to a trickle and then stop. I was listening to a few more drops hitting the water when she brought me out of my reverie, saying, OK, now kneel down.

’What the hell?’ I thought, but I was past objecting at this point. Plus, I was intrigued. I’d never witnessed a woman pissing before and somehow it had turned me on. Actually, I’d merely been in the presence of a woman pissing. I hadn’t actually witnessed much of anything because her shirt had pretty much obscured everything. Kneeling down might actually give me a better vantage point, and so, without any comment, I dropped to my knees, once again, in front of her.

The first thing that hit me was the scent — a heady, raw mixture of pussy and strong urine smell. Most of it had to be the residual smell of hundreds of women sitting in this same spot, pissing, farting, and Lord knows what else, because it just didn’t smell like her — it was stale and rank. Tom, the building manager, had apparently not put cleaning these toilets at the top of his list of priorities. Frankly I was not digging it. The stench of stale piss you sometimes smell in bathrooms like this was smacking me in the face—

OK, now wipe me, she said, startling me out of my thoughts. Maybe it was because I was so distracted by the whole weirdness of this whole evening, but I honestly didn’t see this coming. I know it sounds stupid now. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of this latest demand, but after brief consideration, I was thinking this was too good to be true! I reached for the toilet paper and pulled off a section, and began wadding it up when she reached out and put her hand over the paper. She slowly squeezed the paper out of my hand and said, Didn’t you hear me? I said I’m a HUGE tree lover! No paper!

But what the hell am I suppo— I stopped mid sentence as she began tapping the end of her tongue with her left hand and pointing at me and then toward her dripping pussy with her right.

Oh, no, uh uh! No way! I’ve done everything else you’ve wanted but not this. I’m not lapping up piss for you! I said.

What? You don’t want to lick this pussy? I’m hurt! And she really did look hurt. It was an act, but it affected me anyway. I was amazed at how easily I was manipulated. Meanwhile hearing her utter those words made me rock hard.

C’mon, Michelle! I’d love to do that, but now? C’mon ya just took a piss?

Well, if you’re ever going to get another chance to do this, you’d better just suck it up and take me up on this offer before I change my mind and you never see my pussy again! Just look at her! she said looking down at herself, She’s dying to be licked! Now we were both looking down at her pussy, and she looked fucking delicious. The lips were slightly parted and wet, the inside pink and smooth like a conch shell. At the top, her clit stood like a quiet soldier guarding her gateway. A drop of piss idly slipped off her pussy into the toilet water below with a light splash.

Plus, you aaare my slave and we diiiiid have a deal… she crooned.

I looked back up at her while I considered my situation. We stared at each for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she sat down fully on the toilet seat, and spread her legs. I guess the fatigue in her legs overrode whatever concern she had had about sitting down on the toilet, and now she sat there, looking at me expectantly. I’m embarrassed to say this but I just caved in. Not believing what I was about to do, I leaned forward and stuck my head between her legs and into the toilet bowl. I could smell the piss she hadn’t flushed. Her piss actually smelled like a light perfume next to the other gagging scents emanating from the toilet, though. Suddenly, I felt her hand grip the hair on the back of my head. It hurt. She pulled my face into her pussy, slowly but with some force, even though I did not (could not?) resist her. I heard her nearly whisper, Go ahead, make yourself useful…

As though from instinct, like I was born to do this, I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out toward her pussy. Just before my tongue touched her lips, one last drop of piss fell from her and onto my outstretched tongue, and for the very first time in my life, I literally tasted someone else’s piss. More than the taste, which was actually salty sweet, was the flush of humiliation that stung my face at the significance of having her urine in my mouth.

Mulling over this rather unsavory emotional experience, I nevertheless moved forward and began tentatively wiping her with my mouth. As I used my tongue to explore the smooth inside of her lips, I tasted more of the almost pleasant, but thoroughly debasing hot fluid. It was erotic as hell, but that piss taste really was incredibly humiliating. While I was excited to lick her pussy, I couldn’t help thinking about how her piss was transferring from her pussy to my mouth. I just felt thoroughly used, like a toilet, a human toilet, her human toilet.

I was surprised at the amount of piss that lingered on her, but it was nothing next to what happened next. Just as I began licking deep inside her, my tongue stroking her little piss-hole, Michelle pushed her hips forward into my face and released several ounces of piss she’d apparently been holding back, all over my tongue. Her piss streamed into my mouth and an ounce or so went down my throat before I could stop it. Michelle had apparently decided that passively humiliating me was not going to be enough for her. Even as I was already performing this demeaning task for her, she’d decided it would be fun to urinate outright into my mouth.

Reflexively, I jerked my head back, but she was prepared for that, and with her fingers knotted in my hair, she held me fast until she pissed every last drop out into me. I heard her trying to stifle a giggle as I closed my mouth and felt the remaining two or three ounces of piss slosh around over my teeth and tongue. My best friend had just pissed in my mouth!

Don’t you dare spit it out! she hissed, as she yanked my hair. You DO swallow, don’t you? she asked sweetly, not knowing that she’d already made me drink piss. Looking up at her from my position with my head in the toilet between her legs, her out of focus pussy hair and her thighs framed her angelic face, as she looked down her nose at me. Strangely, it hadn’t even occurred to me to spit it out. With several ounces now to sample, I found her piss salty and very pungent with a touch of ammonia in it. I had probably the equivalent of two shot glasses of it in my mouth.

You know what? Don’t swallow it… …yet. Let me see it first! she said.

I tilted my head back a little bit and opened my mouth. She leaned over slowly and peered inside, almost with trepidation, as though expecting a surprise trick toy to pop out any moment. I could only guess at what she was seeing, but based on what I felt going on, she must have gotten a glimpse of my tongue swimming around in a little pool of her undiluted urine in my mouth. She wrinkled her nose up and mouthed, Ewwww!

That really stinks! It must taste just awful! she mused, I can’t believe you really just let me piss in your mouth! Does my piss taste as bad as it smells in there?

I simply nodded meekly.

But I like seeing it in there, she continued. I like smelling that knowing I just took a piss in your mouth. It’s like I’m marking you as my property and you were born specifically to drink it… She seemed to trail off briefly, lost in her own thought for a moment as she contemplated these ideas before she came back to me.

Gargle it! she demanded.

I wanted to object but with a mouthful of piss I couldn’t even talk! I know this might sound stupidly obvious, but there’s something about kneeling on a bathroom floor before another person who has just pissed down your throat that plays with your self-esteem. I should have objected. I should have walked out. But I had already allowed this person to urinate in my mouth. I felt genuinely inferior to her. I was simply too humiliated; I was struggling with the fact that I had traded all dignity for what? Some pussy? What I had was a mouthful of piss! And yet I could not resist her! I felt like a true slave. It was as though she knew how to exploit my weaknesses for her perfectly and was putting me through some strange training, where I was learning to debase myself for her pleasure, to literally become her personal human toilet.

I didn’t see any of this coming and now that I was here, I couldn’t seem to get myself out of it. I should have been pissed off, but instead I was pissed on, and something about that made me feel more like I was in love than angry — sort of a Stockholm Syndrome.

And so, with mortification flushing through me, I opened my mouth, craned my head back, and began to gargle Michelle’s piss. She was laughing out loud. Then I felt her hand reach up, clasp my chin and close my mouth around her piss. Now swallow my piss! she whispered. And she stared at me intently as I swallowed my friend’s urine. She seemed to follow the gulp as it flushed down my throat into my belly.

After I swallowed her piss, I lowered my head and looked down at the floor and then up at my friend. Michelle looked quite flushed, like a predator that has just caught some long-sought prey, and was just beginning to think of ways to toy with it before the final coup de grace. My humiliation seemed to please her intensely, and as if in gratitude of that pleasure there was real softness in her voice now, completely out of sync with the abusive nature of how she was treating me. She looked at me almost compassionately, and asked, Would you do me a big favor? You really don’t have to if you don’t want to. And I’d understand if you said no. No hard feelings. No slavery thing or anything, but it would really, really make me feel good if you would just do this one little thing for me.

The sweetness of her tone had completely disarmed me. It felt like a cool breeze on a hot, humid day. I felt such a warmth grow over me toward her at this surprising kindness in her tone, and I actually felt tears begin to form in my eyes.

Absolutely, I heard myself say, as though kneeling down in front of the person who had just pissed down your throat while they laughed at you isn’t ‘favor’ enough.

Promise? she asked almost meekly. She’d actually turned her head away slightly, as though she were shy or embarrassed by her impending request.

Promise, I replied.

Well, she started softly. Would you please kiss my ass again, this time real soft and sweet, with real gratitude, and thank me for what I just did to you? Her voice had trailed off so much I almost didn’t hear the final words.

Her words caught me completely off-guard and I almost fell back, because neither her tone nor her body language belied what she was about to say, with the sweetness making her incredibly arrogant rudeness slice that much deeper. She just stared at me with these huge, innocent-looking, doe eyes. And then she continued…

I know it sounds strange, but I’d really like to see some gratitude. I mean especially for pissing in your mouth. Would you do that for me please? It would just feel sooo goooood to piss on someone and then have them actually kiss my ass and thank me for it, her soft voice said sweetly. Apparently pissing in someone’s mouth goes right to your head.

Drinking piss must also go right to your head — and make you stupid — because before I knew it, I actually opened my mouth and said, OK.

As I continued to kneel there on the bathroom floor, she stood and turned around, once again presenting me with that very beautiful, dirty ass. I realized then just how much she had broken me, slowly reducing my ability to resist anything from her. And it had happened so quickly too!

I placed my hands on her hips and began kissing her ass softly, and sweetly. I studied each little wrinkle up close and kissed it. Now I could literally see the faint brown residue sticking to that sweet wrinkled ring. I nuzzled the brown residue of her beautiful asshole onto my nose and then onto my lips. I began kissing her more passionately, and then fervently. I was inhaling deeply. Unlike earlier in the room when she had asked me to thank her for the fact she was about to make me her slave (and how!), I reserved nothing this time as I thanked her profusely for making me drink her piss.

Thank God, Michelle, for you! I thirst for your piss! Thank you so very much for letting me taste it, letting me wipe you with my tongue, letting me swallow it! I am forever grateful to you for urinating in my mouth! I said all this while pressing my lips all over those beautiful cheeks. My words were not hollow; I really felt and meant every word I spoke, much to my shame.

She reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart, saying, Kiss my asshole then…

I pressed my lips once again against that asshole and began caressing it. I nuzzled it with my nose. I rubbed the sticky brown ring with the tip and knew her shit residue was on my face now. I didn’t care. I rubbed my lips all around and over her asshole, allowing my mouth to open and wiping up that brownness with the inside of my lips and my nose.

Lick it! Lick my ass while you congratulate me for pissing on you like a toilet! she demanded.

I opened my mouth and began licking, using my tongue like toilet paper on her. I knew I was licking the brown shitstain off of her asshole — the bitterness in my mouth wouldn’t let me ignore it. Then she pressed that wonderful ass firmly into my face, reached back and pressed her hand into the back of my head. Just as I started to lap at her asshole, she farted. It was a very long fart. The gas seemed to just blow into my mouth forever. She may as well have just been shitting in my mouth it tasted so bad. I gagged audibly and began to struggle with coughing as she continued farting a nearly endless stream of ass gas into my mouth. She was laughing in near hysteria.

As her laughter rung in my ears, the taste of her piss still lingering in my mouth, now augmented by her flatulence, I briefly allowed myself to imagine what it would feel like to be in her position just then. Standing there, laughing at someone who was kneeling beneath you as they struggled, gagging, to accept your gas. Someone whose mouth you’d just pissed in, who just kissed your ass and thanked you for your abuse — feeling their tongue on your asshole and then just taking the liberty to just fart right into their mouth.

And I was suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer cruelty of it. I fought back stinging tears. I could never imagine being so mean that I would piss in someone else’s mouth, let alone make them gargle and drink it. And while I knew, or now hoped, that this was all supposed to be just sexual gamesmanship, something about it now seemed so real, and she seemed unbelievably cruel in her arrogance and meanness, and I was struck by the sheer beauty of it. Somehow her sadistic treatment of me seemed incredibly beautiful. For the first time I literally felt a wave of vertigo, faintness, as I sometimes still do when I realized just how cruel and selfish one person can be to another. It was at once the most awful and wonderful feeling I have ever experienced. Game or no game, I was allowing another person to piss and fart in my mouth while I kissed their ass. I was a true slave.

As I knelt there on that hard ceramic tile floor, the humiliation of her farting in my mouth at that moment, after all I had done for her, was so steep, the stench of her gas so powerful, that momentarily I felt compelled to try to save some semblance of my dignity, as though in a last ditch effort to preserve any of what I was before this fateful weekend. I tried to protest, but managed only a lame Hey!

She just continued to laugh. Then she told me to kiss her ass again while I told her how good her fart tasted! Given the mood that had just overwhelmed me, it took all of my effort to avoid tears at that point. But here’s the part that just baffled me. At that time, I had no comprehension of why, and even now I still don’t fully understand it but I liked how her fart tasted even though quite frankly, it tasted like shit. And I found I liked that shitty taste, because importantly it was HER shit. It was more degrading than I could possibly imagine at the time, and it brought something out in me that I could not know existed. I knew then I enjoyed nothing more and wanted nothing more than the feeling of being completely dominated and humiliated by this beautiful woman. The fact that she was my best friend I guess just allowed me to trust her enough to find that out.

So I answered her; I told her that her fart tasted great. I told her she could fart in my mouth anytime she wanted. The words were incredibly humiliating and the laughter they invoked from her made them even more so. Then she farted again. Inwardly, I continued to feel shocked that I actually had her fart gas in my face. And that I liked it! She farted again. I began to want to taste that dirty asshole. I told her so. It might have a little shit on it. I wanted to know what it would feel like to lick her dirty asshole. I told her that too, and then I stuck out my tongue and tentatively began to caress the wrinkled orifice of her ass. And then she farted again.

Her dirty asshole was shitty, the taste bitter and salty. I lapped at it lasciviously and greedily. I wanted that taste in my mouth so badly. And I told her so. I thought she was incredibly beautiful, and I told her that too. Even Michelle was taken back by the lust of my desire. I can’t believe you like it, she said. This is great! Any time you want to lick my asshole and let me fart in your face while you tell me how beautiful I am, you just let me know. Tell me again how much you like the taste of my shitty asshole. She giggled when she said the word ‘shitty’.

Actually, I responded, shocking myself as I spoke, I believe I’d love the taste of your shit.

You want to taste my shit? she asked slowly, softly emphasizing each word. Especially the last. Y’know, she said with that same tantalizing tone, I have a confession. I’ve always had a fantasy of having a total slave. One that would do anything for me. I abuse my slave all I want, but nothing is too extreme for him. He dutifully does whatever I ask no matter how rude and degrading, and I have quite an imagination… She smiled. I don’t really have a desire to be a bitch though, so in the fantasy he is willing, even more than willing, to humiliate himself for me. The more disgusting the act, the more he wants to do it. His willingness makes it all the more degrading and puts me on an even higher pedestal. I never beat him or anything like that.

I can’t believe I just told you all of that. No one has ever fully known that fantasy. I tried to tell Jason about a little bit of it. You know, starting with just liking to have my ass kissed. But he refused to do even that. That’s the real reason we broke up.

It occurred to me that we might be perfect for each other. Well, I’m not sure why, I said, but I am absolutely loving this. And I placed a gentle peck on one of her perfect ass cheeks.

She said, I forgot to tell you how the fantasy ends. The part that always makes me come… She flushed slightly.

I waited.

Well, my slave, after taking hours of humiliation and abuse lies on the floor beneath me. I stand over him feet on either side of his head. Sometimes I face him, sometimes I face away. Either way, I squat down over his face…

I waved my hand to encourage her to finish.

Oh God, this is so strange to tell someone, she said. Well, I can’t think of any other way to put this other than I shit on him. Well, at least I try to. But you see he is so adamant about humiliating himself for me… Well, when I look down at him, I am shocked to see that he has opened his mouth. And my shit is in his mouth, and… She hesitated, then finished quickly, And well, naturally he eats it. He eats my shit.

I was overwhelmed by her story. She added, It’s usually too much for him to eat all at once when I’m shitting so it goes all over his face. Eventually he eats all of it, then he licks my ass clean. Finally, he showers my ass and asshole with kisses, praising me and telling me how beautiful I am and describing how wonderful it was for him to be shit on by me. It’s quite, um, ego-boosting to say the least! I know it’s completely selfish, but it’s such a rush for me to think about taking someone who loves me, and just shitting on them, literally, to reward their love of me by treating them horribly, only to then be worshipped and praised for it — to be treated like their God, really!

She paused and looked down, almost sadly, and added probingly I also know it’s a ridiculously unrealistic fantasy, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

The story left me totally light-headed. I suddenly became aware of the heady smell of her ass on my face, coupled with the caustic taste of her piss and the sweetness of her wet pussy below. I didn’t say a thing. Instead I buried my face in her ass and began licking her pussy. Her come was such a sweet contrast to her ass, which I sniffed every time I inhaled. I kissed and licked her clit for a few short minutes, and then I felt her pull my hair again as she came in my mouth.

By then my knees were aching and her legs must have been too, because she said, Come on, let’s get out of here. She pulled up her pants and we went back to my room. My breath stank and I was desperately afraid of running into someone on the way back, but the halls remained deserted.

Once we finally got back to my room, she stripped her pants back off and jumped back onto my bed, lying face down, squeezing a pillow under her head. I crawled up behind and showered her ass, asshole, pussy and clit with kisses. That was so awesome, she said. I still can’t believe what’s happened tonight.

I said, Sit back and relax. I want to lick your asshole some more.

She chuckled and hugged the pillow under her head. You go right ahead. But if I have to fart, you’d better just open your mouth and wait for it. Slave.

How true that label had become I thought. I began licking her asshole again. I was actually a little disappointed that all the licking had eliminated most of the bitter salty mixture that I had first encountered. I began to probe my tongue inside. She let out soft little moans and satisfied chuckles as I licked out her ass. After a few minutes she said, You are such a good ass-licker. She added with a teasing chuckle, But what would you do if I really did have to take a shit? You wouldn’t make a pretty girl get dressed and actually walk back to the bathroom would you? Wouldn’t you just offer to service her right here in the comfort of a bed? Think about it…

I felt an unbelievable wave of excitement at the prospect of being treated that way by her. I couldn’t answer her. She said almost shyly, …because I think I have to go again, but not pee this time.

My mind exploded. I was at a complete crossroads. Even after all that had happened, this was still one last line to cross. I’d heard the fantasy. I knew what it meant. If I let this girl do this to me, things could never be the same. Hell they already couldn’t. But this, geez… Apparently she sensed she could just take control if she wanted to. She suddenly turned her nose up in the air, smiled, and said, You know what? I won this bet, right? So if I want to make you eat shit, well you’ll eat shit, right?

And when I didn’t object, she laughed that wonderful cruel laugh again. I began licking her asshole again like I was absolutely worshipping her, even though I knew (or because?) she was preparing to badly mistreat me even more. Talk about low self-esteem. Finally, she stopped me. She said, Lie down on your bed. I lay down on my bed. She stood up on the bed and straddled my face, facing away from me. She looked down with a huge smile. She said, I have to warn you, I’m going to love doing this even though it’s going to be horrible for you, so be sure you want to do this…

She waited a moment until I finally said, OK.

Then she squatted down. I looked up at her flowing hair as lay down over her back. I could see where her flannel shirt opened the small of her back, and the exaggerated curves of her ass, now hovering maybe 18 over my face. Finally, I saw the beautiful pouting lips of her pussy and her delicious asshole. Her asshole was visibly puckering. I few drops of piss fell off her pussy onto my face. Then her asshole opened steadily and finally I could see the tip of her shit poking out. It looked obscene, stretching her asshole out. It looked like a brown probe as though it were her cock, and she was going to make me suck it. Then it suddenly came out rapidly. The smell was overwhelming. It squeezed out of her ass and fell down onto my face. In my awe, I forgot to open my mouth so her first load lay over my nose and partly on my lips.

I heard her quietly laughing as she said, barely above a whisper, Go ahead. Do it! Eat it. Eat my shit. You know you want to. I opened my mouth and began to lap at it with my tongue. The bitterness of the taste could not match the bitterness of the degradation. The look on her face said it all. Her face was a perfect balance of revulsion and delight, a smile twisted by disbelieving disgust at what she was witnessing. I felt that vertigo again with the realization of how real her cruelty was, making me feel faint.

Then she turned away and I couldn’t see her face. A moment later, she squeezed out a second load. This time I was prepared; it landed directly in my open mouth. I began to eat it, chewing it, pushing my tongue all through it. The taste was dark and exquisitely bitter. It was gagging. While I was still eating, she let a final, much softer load go. It landed on my nose and covered one eye. She looked down to watch me eat shit and the sight drew a crack of surprised laughter. Her laughter grew to derisive hysterics, and then she repeated over and over, Eat shit, Loser. and then Shit-Eating Loser!

I remember how strong her shit tasted, but I swallowed anyway. I scooped up the shit that had not landed in my mouth and ate that too. She let me use a tissue to wipe up what was left on my face. When my face was clean, she sat full on my face, and I got to taste the wonderful stench of her shit and my humiliation afresh. As I wiped her asshole clean with my tongue, she said, That’s it. Lick the asshole of the person who just shit down your throat! and laughed again. I felt her fingers moving furiously just below my chin and realized she was masturbating while I licked her shitty asshole. It seemed as though the sight of me tasting shit for her whim was too much for her.

I came in my pants without touching myself.

She stroked her clit for another minute or so while I continued to lick her ass, and then she came too. When her orgasm finally subsided, she sat on my face a little bit longer, and then she turned around so she was facing me and told me to lick up her come. She told me to lick her clit. In the middle of doing that she let a few final ounces of piss pour on my face and in my mouth. My transformation as her absolute slave was complete. She had trained me well.

She looked down at my shit, piss, and cum-covered face and said, By the way, I used to play Monopoly all the time as a kid. I actually won a tournament once in 7th grade. I hated letting you win those first 9 games!

Before the 24 hours was up she would piss in my mouth another 5 times and take one more shit. I drank and ate it all.

Now, she’s my full-time girlfriend. Well, sort of. You could say we date, but with a very kinky twist of course. She loves pissing in my mouth and never lets me miss a fart if she can help it. Occasionally, she’ll get in a real mood and can be very mean. God forbid she does badly in a test or has a hard time with a prof, or is short on cash, or just feels ornery; if any of that happens I know I’m going to have to take her shit — literally. Sometimes she doesn’t even have to be in a bad mood. Sometimes it’s worse when she’s in a good mood! She likes to make me beg for it. When she feels like she’s gotta go, she takes off her pants and underwear, or if she’s wearing a skirt, just her panties, and sits back on her sofa. She makes me kneel before her, and always always always I have to kiss and lick her feet and beg in as explicit language as possible to be her toilet. Sometimes it seems like she makes me lick her feet forever.

Once she is satisfied that I have humiliated myself enough to receive her abuse, she leans back on the sofa, lifts one or both legs and makes me lick her pussy until she comes or pisses or both. Then and only then am I permitted to lick her asshole. She says she wants to feel like I am coaxing her to shit on me, using my tongue on her asshole. You can’t imagine how really good it really feels to shit on someone. I’m glad I have someone around I can make eat my shit. It’s a rush! It just relaxes me, she says. Usually I know she getting close because she starts to fart in my mouth. Sometimes the stink is unbelievable, and she loves it when I gag. It always makes her laugh.

When the time finally arrives, she just starts to shit on my tongue while I am lapping at her asshole (like a dog she sometimes says). When I begin to taste the bitterness of her shit, I cover her asshole with my open mouth and let her shit right into it. My mouth will fill with her shit. When it’s filled I try to start eating it. The bitterness is indescribable. Sometimes, she continues shitting while I try to eat it as fast as I can, with a good amount of it going all over my face. She loves that.

I’ve gotten sick a few times, but she loves that when it happens, so I never complain. She never uses the toilet to take a piss. And we don’t have any toilet paper for her. She does have quite an imagination, and she has found amazing ways to add sting to the humiliation. She sometimes will get up at the table in my apartment while we are eating dinner, walk over to me and piss on my food. Then she watches as I eat it. One time she made me lick both her piss and shit off of her bathroom floor. She gets a real kick out of making me ‘bob’ for pieces of her shit out of the toilet. Every now and then she makes me lick her toilet bowl clean.

Things are really getting bad now and we’ve only been dating six weeks. Our friendship is totally destroyed, although we did try to maintain appearances as much as possible at first. It’s kind of hard to pretend to be friends when one friend has taken a liking to shitting on the other and that other has developed a nasty thirst for the first one’s piss. It’s true, I really do thirst for her piss, so now I am merely a toilet slave to her.

It’s really hard, truth be known. At the risk of stating the obvious, shit really stinks. Being someone’s toilet, and eating shit is really difficult. Sometimes you are not in the mood, but you have to do it anyway, or the relationship is ruined. Yes, it’s true, you HAVE to eat shit for this other person. And you have to do it every day, usually several times, EVERY day. You become intimately familiar with every nuance of the taste and smell of the other person’s bodily wastes. You are a receptacle for their waste, only worse, for unlike a real toilet, you have to taste it — and she shits and pisses and farts and pisses and shits on you fully aware that you are absorbing every ounce of taste and scent of it. You never fully escape those scents, and you might think you will, but you never get used to it. Shit is shit after all. Eventually, it becomes a very figurative thing as well as a literal thing. She WILL lose all respect for you and become abusive. I guess there’s something about being able to shit on someone, and then watch that other human being literally eat your shit that just plays with your head and makes you arrogant. It brings out the worst in you, and makes you enjoy being mean.

Now she regularly cheats on me for normal sex. She always tells me every detail about how she sucked the guy’s dick or how good it felt when she took it up the ass. Last night she had a guy come to my apartment and made me sit in the closet while they had sex on my bed. They did everything. He came in her mouth, her pussy, her ass. I had to listen to everything, and unfortunately I could also see it. That wasn’t the worst part though. The next morning after he left, she made me lick his come out of her pussy. Then she took a shit in my mouth and I tasted his come again. She pissed right on my face while I was still eating the mixture of her shit and his come.

So this is my predicament. I love this girl, but she delights in literally — and figuratively — shitting on me. There’s no respect left for even the friendship we had now. We talked about it, and she admitted that she doesn’t respect me and sometimes she even regrets the loss of our friendship, but she’s just having way too much fun with me to give anything but a shit about that now. I have to go now, I have to brush my teeth. She’s just handed me the brush with a dollop of her shit on it…