It all started about just over a year ago. I was at Naomi’s 17th birthday party. I’d been to them all. Hell, I was there when she was born - driving over to New Jersey when I got the call from my best friend Mark that his wife was going to deliver their child. I can even remember her birth weight was 6 lbs 9 oz.

Naomi weighed more like 115 on this day though, and it being the middle of summer, there weren’t a lot of clothes covering her blossoming body. You try not to pay a whole lot of attention to these things when it’s your best friend’s daughter, but Naomi had developed beautiful full breasts and a sweet round ass. All of this with what looked like no more than a 22″ waist on her 5′ 6″ frame. She was stunning to behold, with her long brown hair, almond-shaped green eyes, and heart-shaped face. Jesus, maybe I was in love with her all along.

If I was, I wasn’t alone. Whenever I visited Mark and his family, I never failed to notice that Naomi had developed quite a fan club among her male peers, and the phone seemed to ring for her constantly. Naomi had settled on one guy though, a guy named Matt who must’ve been about 19. I noticed Mark never seemed too protective of Naomi, and she and Matt had free reign to come and go as they pleased.

Every time I came by, I noticed that Naomi seemed to take more and more notice of me. This surprised me, as I expected just the opposite from a teenage girl. She always took time out to talk to me, and would hold the conversation up for quite a while sometimes. Once we talked for almost an hour while her Dad and Mom busied themselves being the perfect hosts at a party I attended there. She amazed me at her candor and her apparent maturity. I suppose I suspected that she might have had a little crush on me, but I also thought that it might just be an older man’s wishful thinking, and I just put it out of my head.

So when I attended Naomi’s party I was a little surprised to see that she seemed so subdued. It was subtle, and no one else seemed to notice, but it hit me over the head. She gave me her usual stunning smile in greeting, but there was an unmistakable air of sadness about her. The only time it seemed to break was when she opened the opal (her birth stone) ring I gave her for her birthday. She put it on right away and wore it for the rest of the night.

As the evening wore down, the rest of the family got absorbed in a movie on cable in the family room. But Naomi and I had met up in the kitchen and began idly talking. I asked her how she felt about turning 17 and she said it was OK. “I don’t feel any older,” she said with a laugh.

“Well, how do you feel?” I asked with a slightly more serious tone. I sensed something was dragging her down and I wanted to help her out.

“The truth?” she asked looking right at me, “Not too good. Matt and I are on the rocks.”

I waited.

“I don’t know. Matt told me yesterday he thought we should start seeing other people. I’m pretty sure he has someone else in mind already. Anyway that’s why he’s not here tonight.” She looked back down at the kitchen table.

“I know you probably already know all of the clichйs, so I won’t bore you with them…”, I said.

“No, go ahead and bore me.” She flashed her amazing smile at me. I don’t know, time just seems to stop when she gives me that smile.

“OK. There’s lots of fish in the sea. We all go through this sometime. This too shall pass. Uh, that’s how the cookie crumbles -”

“OK, OK! You can stop!” she said laughing. “But seriously, I don’t know what I’m gong to do…”

“Well, you can pretty much do whatever the hell you want now, the way I see it.” I said, and once again she looked right at me. I felt the slightest cold sweat rising on my spine. “You’re such a gorgeous girl, you can probably have any guy you want.”

She blushed and looked away. “Jesus, I didn’t even think you noticed me. At least not like that.” She tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile. “Anyway, guys don’t just drop at my feet.”

“They should,” I said. Then I leaned over to her and whispered conspiratorially, “I figure a girl like you has guys begging to kiss her ass almost constantly.” As soon as I said it, I’d wish I could withdraw it. Never mind that it was a totally inappropriate remark for a 39-year-old man to be making to a just 17-year-old girl - it was also just a little to close to what I was feeling like doing just then!

“Kiss my ass?” she whispered back over a giggle. “Who ‘begs to kiss a girl’s ass’? Besides, I don’t think anyone would want to kiss my ass. It’s kind of fat, don’t you think?” And she stood up and turned around, her head turned over her shoulder to look at me.

That sort of pushed me over the edge. I knew I was totally out of line when I whispered back, “Are you fucking kidding? Your ass is absolutely perfect! Now shut up about that and sit down!”

That made her let out a quick yelp of surprised laughter as she threw her hand to her mouth and sat back in her chair. We both immediately turned our heads to the family room, but no one came out or said anything. I guess the goddamn movie was pretty good…

There was such a warmth in her eyes when I turned back to her. Warmth tinged with delight and mischievousness. “Let me ask you a question. And I want an honest answer,” she said quietly. “If I were older,…” I knew this was coming. “…would you date me?”

“Sweetheart, ” I returned with an overly serious tone, “I would be the first to kneel down before you… and beg… to kiss… your ass.”, and I gave her hand a squeeze as I finished my remark. This sent her into another bout of muffled laughter, hand to mouth. She looked so sweet and sexy. She was incredibly amazing. And I was feeling like an incredible lech.

“Well, you probably shouldn’t do that,” she said. Her tone had quite sobered, and I began to fear that maybe she also decided that I had overstepped my bounds. “Because,” she continued, “I would probably let you do it.” It was my turn to be shocked, but I hid it better than she did. “And then you’d have to be my slave. Kissing my ass whenever I was in the mood for it. And who knows, I’d probably be in the mood for that all the time.”

I was shocked. I didn’t know what to say, and I guess I wasn’t hiding that very well at all, because she said, “But you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you. . Kissing my ass. Being my slave.” Her eyes gleamed with an almost evil delight.

Suddenly she got up from the table, and said, “I’m going to get a glass of water. Do you want anything?”. Then she turned away from me and looked back over her shoulder at me. She knew I couldn’t keep my eyes from falling involuntarily to that perfectly round, taut, sweet, 17-year-old-to-the-day, feminine ass of hers. And when it happened, I was spell-bound by the knowing seductiveness of the smile that spread across her beautiful, innocent-looking face.

Apparently, the movie had finally ended, because the rest of the family started to wander sleepily into the kitchen. I decided it was time to leave. I said my good-byes to everyone and started toward to head out. Naomi escorted me to the door. When we got there, she through her arms around my neck and gave me a big hug. She said in normal voice, “Thanks for your gift.” Then she added a whisper in my ear, “Thanks for everything, Uncle Jack. Too bad I’m not older. I’d love to hear you beg to kiss my ass.” Then she gave me a sweet, slightly longer than appropriate kiss on the cheek.

When I got home I couldn’t sleep at all, and I ended up jerking myself silly thinking about her before I finally dropped off. The next day I was a little better, but I still felt very distracted. It was later in the afternoon, around 4:00 PM I guess, when I was contemplating the nature of my feelings for my “niece”. Was it just lust? Clearly there was a lot of lust in it. But her smile made my heart melt, and now I realized that I had often thought of her before. Way too often. Of course I had resisted actively thinking of her sexually, but she had been on my mind more and more for at least a year.

Then my phone rang. I answered the phone and then damn near dropped it when I heard the voice on the other end. “Hi, Uncle Jack!”

“Hello,” I stammered back.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, no,” I answered quickly. “Actually I was just thinking about you.” I literally bit my knuckle after I said that.

“Really. Well, I’ve been thinking about you too. I think we should talk some more. I’m still bumming about Matt, you know?” Her tone gave no hint of the off-color tone our conversation had taken the night before.

“OK. Maybe I can come over to your parent’s house after dinner tonight…”

“Well, actually, I’m at school now. We had summer band practice, and I could use a ride home…” This game was getting dangerous. I briefly contemplated what to do.

“OK. I’ll pick you up in about 15 minutes.” I left a message with my secretary that I would be out for the rest of the day. When I got to the high school, I felt sudden shame. I decided I would simply give her a ride home and that would be that.

I saw her standing out side of the school. She look just gorgeous. She had on a simple blouse and a pleated skirt. It amazed me that someone who was essentially still just a child could look so womanly. So beautiful.

She opened the car door and hopped in saying, “Hi. Thanks for coming to get me. Dad’s still at work and Mom’s out with her friends.” She leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. Much more in line with what was appropriate, but I still felt a flush rise on my face.

“So tell me about Matt.” I said.

“Actually, I’d rather talk about our conversation last night.”

“I’m really sorry about that,” I cut in quickly, “It was very inappropriate and I think its best if we just forget it. I was just trying to make you put the whole thing with Matt in perspective. You’re a beautiful girl, you’ll do well for yourself.”

“So you didn’t mean the rest of it?” she asked. Her tone suggested that she already knew the answer, but she didn’t want to be presumptuous.

“Yes, of course I meant it. But you’re only 17 and that’s a problem.”

“So you really would beg me to kiss my ass?” she said almost matter-of-factly. “Tell me. What does a guy say when he begs a girl to let him kiss her ass? Just tell me a little. I’m just curious.”

“Naomi. Please. Yes, I think you’re very attractive. And if things were different, we could pursue this.”

“Look,” she said. “If you’re attracted to me, it’s OK. I’m over the age of consent. I’m no fool, I know it would upset my parents, but you know, they don’t have to know. Who knows maybe if we fall in love or something, you can wait until I’m older and marry me or something. But in the meantime, let’s not take it too seriously. The truth is I think you’re very sexy and I like the fact the you’ve looked at me that way too.”

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. Then I finally broke the silence, “OK, you’re absolutely right. I think you’re exceptionally sexy. And yes, I’d love to kiss your ass. And yes, I’d beg to do it. But I can’t. We can’t. Your father’s my best friend, for Christ’s sake.” We’d arrived at her house. I resolved not to go in, and told her that I pretty much had to get going.

She said, “It’s OK, Uncle Jack. Maybe someday though. In the meantime though, you don’t mind if I occasionally imagine you pressing your lips against my sweet ass and whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful I am and what a pleasure it is to be my slave… …do you?” How could this girl only be 17, I thought! Thankfully, she didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she leaned over and gave me another one of those slightly-too-long kisses on the cheek, and got out of the car. I waved to her as I drove away.

* * * * *
Things would have been so much easier if the story ended there.

But naturally, it didn’t. I did stay away from their house for a month or two, and was careful not to be alone with Naomi. Occasionally, we exchanged glances, and once or twice she caught me staring at her ass, but for the most part things were cool. At least her house. At home, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and I fantasized almost exclusively about her.

Then one day I found out she had gotten a new boyfriend. It was so disturbing to me, which in itself was disturbing to me. Gradually, I got more used to it though, and one time when we actually were alone together she let it slip that he wasn’t quite as good to her as she was sure I would be. I asked her what that meant, and she told me he doesn’t kiss her ass nearly enough. Then she laughed. I had grown to really regret using those words with her.

We really didn’t exchange any further off-color words though for a long time. Christmas came and went, then New Year’s, Valentine’s (that one was tough), Easter, and Memorial Day. It was shortly after that, that she broke up with her current boyfriend, Glenn. I figured it was because the school year was ending, and she was about to graduate from high school, but I was only half right.

One warm June twilight, we were sitting on her back porch. I’d come over for dinner with her family, and I’d finally gotten comfortable with the idea that I could be alone with her relatively safely. So when she suggested we go out to the porch and just drink some iced tea, I agreed.

The conversation started out mundane enough. We talked about graduating and what a big girl she had become, and how excited she was to be going to USC in the fall. Then we got to talking about Glen, and what happened there. I couldn’t resist the bate and I asked her why she broke up with him.

She surprised me by saying, “You know why. I told you.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t think we ever talked about your break up with Glen.”

“No, I guess we didn’t,” she replied. “But I did tell you there was one thing he hardly ever did that I really wanted…”

I knew exactly what she was talking about, and I didn’t want to open that can of worms again. “So he wasn’t good in bed, is what you’re saying…”

“Oh, God, no, that’s not it,” she said, “He’s got a monster dick!” Then she covered her mouth in embarrassed laughter.

“Thanks for sharing,” I said dryly.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking,” she said. But she was still having trouble getting her laughter under control. Finally she settled down and said, “No, what I meant was, I really wanted him to sometimes assume an, I don’t know, inferior role in our sex. You know, kind of be my slave like you and I talked about. The few times he did kiss my ass, it was perfunctory at best. That part of our sex was very disappointing to me.”

“I see,” I said.

“So it’s all your fault, the way I see it,” she teased. She responded to the shocked expression on my face by saying, “Ever since that night in my kitchen when you talked about guys begging to kiss my ass, I’ve been sort of dreaming about that, you know? Mostly with you.”

“I guess I didn’t mean for you to take it so literally,” I said. “I was just trying to make you feel better by making you see how attractive you are.”

“I don’t really believe that,” she said. “Not after you told me in your car that you really do want to kiss my ass and that you would beg to do it. No, I know better than that. You meant it literally. And I’m convinced your a closet, what was the word they used — I read it in a magazine somewhere — submissive.

“It basically means you want to be my slave,” she asserted confidently.

The bad news is she was absolutely on the money, and I hadn’t even realized it. “And that appeals to you…” I lead her, for lack of anything else to say in this very tense moment.

“The truth is, nothing has ever turn me on more.”

I was sitting next to her through entire exchange. I turned to look at her, and she turned to meet my eyes. We just sat there like that for what seemed like forever. Finally, I said, “OK, I’ll tell you what a guy says to girl when he’s trying to convince her she should let him kiss her ass. It’s sort of like kissing her ass figuratively so she’ll let him kiss her ass literally.”

She waited. We held each other’s eyes.

“OK, first he has to get down on his knees and bow to her, telling her she is the sweetest sight his eyes have ever seen.” She flushed slightly. “Then he kisses each foot tenderly and intently, and tells her that her place is to be a goddess. And as a goddess, she deserves nothing less than the unfailing worship of her subjects.”

“You mean slaves,” she cut in.

“OK, slaves.” She flushed again. “Then he begs her to consider letting him be her slave, please, please. He begs, ‘please let me be your slave and worship the ground you walk on. Let me lick the bottoms of your feet. Let me kiss your sweet ass. I promise I’ll do a good job. I’ll kiss each precious cheek with the utmost respect you deserve. Please let me bury my face in your delicious ass.”

I noticed that her eyes had widened and she became more and more enrapt with each word I said. There was a slight glint of sweat on her brow, and she had arched her back, causing her chest to thrust outward, and her ass to push down into the porch step, like she was trying to push her ass into my imaginary face.

She said, “Are you sure you’d want to do that? It’s one thing to kiss me on the cheek, it’s another thing entirely to ‘bury your face’! What about the smell?” You could tell she loved to talk about this. When she said them they seemed to drip with juicy explicitness. “Do you think you’d like the smell of my ass?” she asked, with an air of feigned innocence.

“I have no question I would.” I said, “I’m sure once I smelled it once, I’d crave it all the time.”

She laughed sweetly, and said, “Hold on a second…” She twisted at the waist, turning her shoulders back toward the door to the kitchen. I didn’t know what the hell she was doing. It looked like she was trying to look back into the house. Then she turned back around. She lifted a hand to my face.

“Here,” she said, and extended two fingers toward my nose. I almost fell of the porch. The end of her fingers had a hot moist earthy anal smell, coupled with the slightest fragrance of pussy juice. It was the uniquely intoxicating scent cocktail that could only come from a woman’s ass. It the smell reminded me of the dirty underwear of girlfriends past. I realized she had stuck her hand down her pants and stroked her little asshole for me so that I might sample her sweetness. “What do you think of that?”

I inhaled deeply and drew in her heavenly feminine scents.

“Tell me, what do you think it would taste like,” she said, still holding her gloriously dirtied fingers to my face.

“Like sugar and honey.” I said. And then I grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. She wiggled a finger in between my lips. I sucked gently on the tip. I only found myself wanting to get a stronger version of that far-too-subtle taste into my mouth.

“Maybe more like chocolate and fudge,” she giggled, “depending on how recently I showered…” I loved that delightful care-free, don’t-give-a-fuck laugh. It was sweet and mischievousness with just a touch of taunting in it, and I just loved it. It made me want to bow beneath this lovely goddess, who was young enough to be my daughter. It occurred to me that there was no way I could be one of her school teachers. How do you guide and discipline someone, when all you can think about doing is kneeling down, putting them on a pedestal, and degrading yourself for them in any way they’ll let you? All she’d have to do is turn around and wiggle that wonderful ass in my face, and she’d have me on my knees worshipping her in a second.

“I’m sure if you’re clean, there’ll be nothing but sweetness there,” I distractedly responded.

“Well,” she responded, “I might not always be clean. And that’s something a slave’s just got to deal with, don’t you think?” And then I saw her twist back toward the house again. This time I clearly saw her take her hand and squeeze it down the back waistband of her shorts. She pulled the hand back out after a moment, and reintroduced the fingers to my grateful nose. The scent was sharply stronger, and more anal. The moisture of her finger indicated she had buried it to the second knuckle. The scent indicated that it clearly had been in her ass…

“I mean,” she continued, “what if I’ve just gone to the bathroom, right? What, I can’t have my ass kissed just because of that!? I think not. I say whatever you smell or taste down there is your problem, not mine. Besides, I think you should like it anyway. It came out of me after all.”

Her tone dripped with the arrogance of youth. I felt strangely helpless next to her at that moment. She waved the fingers under my nose for a second and then put one of them to my lips. I immediately opened my mouth and sucked it in.

“What if,” she continued as I sucked that sweet taste off of her finger, ” a goddess didn’t want to be so nice to her slave. I mean I think a good slave has got to worship her even then, right? No matter what; no matter how she treats him - if he’s a true slave. Wouldn’t you want to be my true slave?”

“Well, what would a goddess who wants to be “not so nice” to her slaves do to her slaves to not be so nice?” I asked, pulling her now clean fingers from my mouth. “Make him kiss her ass after taking a shit?!” I said trying to be funny, and laughed. She let out a hearty laugh too, and briefly I was reminded of that conversation in the kitchen. I shot a look into the house, but there was no activity. “I guess she might conveniently forget to wipe,” I added for more laughs.

“Well, a goddess might want to do something like that,” she said through fading laughter. Then she added more soberly, “Test her slave’s loyalty. Or maybe she’d just do it for kicks. Maybe she’d do it for the sheer pleasure of knowing what it’s like to make somebody do something like that. Hey, a guy who’d do that - that guy’s a real slave. And he can kiss my ass all he wants. I think it would be a real turn-on for a guy to do something really special for me like that.”

The honest arrogance just floored me. I wondered if she even knew how selfish and arrogant she sounded! I think the most amazing thing about that statement was the fact she said the whole thing without blinking an eye. It occurred to me that she’d been thinking about this subject for a long time. She’d already had in her mind what she wanted from me (as a slave), and I secretly suspected that we were just scratching the surface.

“And what would you do for him in return?”

“I don’t know. Let him lick my pussy, I guess. I guess I really wouldn’t do anything for him–”

“Naomi!”

We both jumped. It was her Dad.

“I think it’s getting kind of late. Come on in, Sweetheart. Do you want any coffee, Jack? I just put some on.”

“Thanks Mark, but I think I’m going to get going.”

“Geez, you two have been out here a long time,” Mark said, “People are going to start talking!” And then he laughed, and I forced myself to laugh with him. Naomi, standing behind her father, wiped her hand across her brow and mouthed the word, “whew!”.

I could hardly drive I had such a hard-on. I pulled my dick out and jerked off as I drove. I couldn’t wait any longer. I blew so much sperm I had to drive the rest of the way home one-handed.

* * * * *
Just like last time, Naomi called me at work the next day. She told me she wanted to go to a park in the next town and talk. This time I didn’t even pretend to argue with her, and I met her at a local drug store, picked her up and drove to the park she mentioned.

We talked and laughed. She was so calm and natural about it, I couldn’t help but relax. It occurred to me that I was falling in love with her. She was almost 18, and I was 40. Now, however, I didn’t care about that. I was concerned about Mark and his family, but I knew I wanted this girl.

We held hands as I drove, and when I got to the park, which was heavily wooded, she directed me to park to an area that was secluded and quite dark - even in the daytime. As soon as the car was parked, we began to kiss passionately. I lips were so full and smooth and succulent. Our mouths and bodies just seemed to blend together. We moved to the back seat. I let my hands roam all over that beautiful tight nearly 18-year-old body. How could breasts be that full and yet still so firm? I kissed her belly button and then undid her top. I pulled each dark nipple into me mouth and gave each a squeeze with my teeth.

I let my hands enjoy her hard smooth back and spine as I sucked on each delicious tit. Finally, and I couldn’t wait for this, I undid her shorts and pulled them off. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, and in spite of my self I was left breathless by the sheer beauty and shape of her delicious young body. I kissed her belly and felt incredibly grateful when she draped each smooth thigh over my shoulders.

I buried my face in her pussy and kissed and kissed and kissed. Tenderly, like a lover’s mouth. I kept my mouth closed and delighted in having her scented wetness cover my face before I opened my mouth and began lapping it up off of her pussy. That’s one of the wonderful things about trying to lick girl-come off a girl who is totally turned on; the harder you try the further behind you get. When both she and I were both totally lathered I settled in and began to slowly suckle her clit.

She came with reckless abandon, punching her fists against the seat of the car and bucking her hips hard into my face. I was ready to come right then but instead I started to move up to insert myself inside of her. She suddenly came to her senses and said, “No! No. I don’t have any protection. You can’t do that.” I stopped, and then she said, “I have an idea.”

She started to lift one of her legs over my head and it took me a second to realize she was turning over on the seat. I leaned back to give her room to do it and I was rewarded with one of the most beautiful sights any man has ever seen. This girl’s tiny waste accentuated how incredibly round and full her wonderful ass was. I mean, I pretty much knew that already, having ogled her backside so many times before, but to see her naked right in front of me was something I could not have been prepared for.

And she clearly knew it. There was the almost acid arrogance when she said, “I don’t have time for begging. I know I should respect my elders and all that, but kiss my ass, OK? You can come doing it, if you want.”

Like a well-broken puppy I followed her commands to the letter. I showered her beautiful ass with kisses, kissing one cheek, then the other. I then started to concentrate on the top of her ass crack, pressing my lips into the crack as I worked my way down. I had only gone maybe three inches when it became impossible to kiss all the way down to the bottom of the crack without pulling her ass cheeks apart, so that’s what I did. I kissed down another couple of inches, and my lips were almost right on her asshole.

“How does it smell,” she asked with an amused tone. “Why don’t you just give it a little sniff.”

I began to kiss the beautiful little hairs around her asshole. I kissed them with great passion, and began to sniff her ass. It smelled much like her fingers did the night before, but much more strong. Decidedly fartier. Shittier. Her ass smelled wonderful, but I have to admit that the heady anal aroma gave me an inescapable sense of degradation. In spite of the growing sense that I was humiliating myself and that she was fully cognizant of that, I could not possibly resist doing anything she wanted, even if it meant rubbing my lips and nose where she normally rubbed toilet paper.

With a growing sense of the power she was beginning to wield over me, she arched her back and pushed back her ass, spreading her legs even more. Then she let out an almost guttural, “Go ahead, do it, be my slave, kiss it, kiss my asshole.” I barely heard her but I obeyed.

I pressed my lips directly against her asshole, let my lips part and began almost unconsciously sucking. I stuck out my tongue and felt a tingle go up and down my spine at the precise moment my tongue made first contact with her precious asshole. She must have felt something too, because she shuddered and she started speaking to me quickly and softly. “Oh, yes. Lick it. Lick my sweet ass. Taste my lovely budding little shitter. I know you want to,” she said between soft moans.

I wasn’t thinking so much about licking her asshole as I was about tasting it. It was very earthy with a slight bitterness to it, and the scent was unmistakably anal. I loved it. I began lapping at her shithole like a hungry dog, and she continued to further the arch in her back, offering her asshole to me like an exotic and special hors d’oevres.

I began to run my tongue from her clit to her asshole in long loving strokes. I finished each stroke of my tongue with an impassioned kiss to her asshole. Her body shook with each stroke. I reached around with my right hand and began caressing her clit with each stroke of my tongue, and before I knew it she was once again in the throes of an intense orgasm.

When I felt her begin to come, I pushed my tongue as deep into her asshole as I could get it to go and caressed her clit with my fingers through her orgasm. She was wonderfully dirty, and I came with that taste in my mouth. When we were both done coming, I once again showered her sweet ass with kisses, crying, “Naomi, Naomi, sweet Naomi…”

She sighed happily and lay still for a minute or so as I kissed her bottom. Then I moved up behind her and wrapped my arms around her and kissed the back of her neck. We lay side by side, or as well as we could in the back seat of a car, and just basked in the post-orgasmic glow. She said, “I never knew anything could feel so good in my life. You were wonderful.” Then she added in that teasing arrogant tone, “Who knew you’d be such a good asslicker? You make a great slave.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little degrading, though?” she asked. “I mean I can’t tell you how good it feels to just stick your ass in someone’s face and then feel them lick your asshole. It’s great being on my end. But I can’t even believe you’d actually do something like that. And I’m just a young girl. You’re an adult man. Doesn’t it feel a little humiliating to kneel down in the back seat of your car and lap away at my asshole?”

I snuggled her close and kissed the back of her head in response, and said, “Sweetheart, I’m worshipping you. It wouldn’t be worship if it weren’t humiliating. You have no idea how much the pleasure was mine. I’ll be your slave all you want. You tasted so sweet.”

“I wasn’t dirty at all, was I?” she asked pulling away a little to turn around and face me. Her mouth belied the traces of a coy smile.

“I didn’t say that,” I said.

Now she turned fully around so that she could look fully at me. “I was dirty? And you licked me anyway?” She began to laugh, and said, “Jesus, you’re a better slave than I thought. Why didn’t you stop?”

“You said last night that that was what you wanted from a slave. You tasted so sweet.”

“Even though I was dirty,” she said and just stared at me for a moment with an amazed smile, as if trying to soak in the full meaning of what I was saying. She took on an almost distant look, and then her gaze intensified as she asked, slowly, “Are you telling me, you licked traces of, of, well, shit I guess, off my asshole? And this made you come?”

I just nodded.

And then, there it was again. That wonderfully sweet, arrogant, teasing cruelty in her eyes and lips as she said, “So basically, you’re telling me my shit tastes - how did you put it - ’so sweet’?” and then she laughed again.

“To be absolutely honest with you,” I started, “I’m actually a little envious of you. I can’t imagine being so sweet that even the parts of your body you use to go the bathroom smell and taste so good. Honestly, at that exact moment when we were both coming? Well, I would have eaten your ’so sweet’ shit right out of your beautiful ass if you’d asked - and loved it.”

“God,” she said as she flushed with a wave of self-conscious embarrassment, “that would’ve been awesome!” I couldn’t believe her simple, straight-forward honesty. She had absolutely no hang-ups about simply enjoying what she enjoyed without even thinking about it. There was something wonderfully innocent about it, and yet oh, so, not innocent…

“Can I be honest, too?” she said. I nodded. “Do you mind that I kinda like making you my slave? I mean I don’t think most guys would go for it, but I’ve been fantasizing about it for so long. I’ve always wondered how it would feel to have a guy who would really be my slave sometimes. Someone who’d let me make him do nasty things like lick my ass whenever I wanted. Even if I’m dirty. Maybe especially then.”

“You really want to do that? Kinda kinky you know.”

“You’re the one who got me thinking about it with all that talk about ‘I’d beg to kiss your ass stuff’ at my last birthday party, remember?”

“I still feel bad about that,” I said. “I feel like I corrupted you…”

“Don’t be silly. I’d actually been dreaming up little slavery fantasies for some time. It’s just that when you made that remark, it was the first time I thought there might actually be somebody else out there who would actually do some of the things I fantasize about.”

“Like what?” I asked, with great curiosity.

“I don’t want to tell you every dirty secret right away. Let’s just see how things go and who knows maybe some of those fantasies can become reality. But let’s just say, you’d be getting the ’shitty’ end of the stick,” she giggled when she said “shitty”, “so just think about it, OK? I mean I love regular sex, too, and I want that, but I’ve never met anyone like you when it comes to the kinkier stuff.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you that way, either.” Then we sat in silence for a little while, and I did think about it. While I held her seemingly impossibly smooth warm supple and firm body, it occurred to me that I would happily worship her. After a few more minutes, I said we needed to start heading back, it was getting late. We’d been out for about 2 hours.

We got dressed and we didn’t say much, but she would reach out to me and stroke me every now and then, and I would kiss any part of her that got too close to my face. After she slipped on her shorts and top, we got out of the car and stretched our legs. I bent over and kissed her ass one more time through her shorts and found that lovely bottom of hers was still capable of getting a rise out of me.

We were getting back into the car, when she said, “Hold on. I gotta pee. I’ll be right back.” Then she turned and sort of skipped back into the woods. It was very dark back there, especially for 6 PM in June. I got out of the car and followed her path. When I caught up with her she was just unzipping her shorts.

“Hey!” she said, “what are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “I thought I’d just come and watch.”

“Just watch?” she asked with the briefest flash of a smile.

I approached her and said, “Y’know, I’ve been thinking about what we talked about back there… How’d you really like to make me your slave?”

There was that gleam in her eyes. I already loved that gleam. “What do you have in mind?”

I dropped immediately to my knees before her, and tugged on her zipper with my teeth. Her hands ran through my hair, as she said, “I’m not sure we should do this.”

“Why not?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“It’s too degrading to do for real, that’s why.”

“Degrading to who?” I asked as I began to pull her shorts down off her hips.

“To you, of course!” she said, “I think I can guess what you plan on doing out here, kneeling there before me, taking off my shorts with your teeth, knowing full well I came out here to go to the bathroom.” In spite of myself, I flushed a bit from a sense of humiliation. “Maybe you should think twice about giving me this particular little pleasure.”

I guess I wasn’t completely sure I was ready for that level of degradation either, and I was partially relieved that she apparently had a merciful streak in her. She was so sweet.

“OK,” I said, and let go of her.

“You’re going to give up that easily?” she protested, “Just think of how badly I have to pee…”

So I grabbed her and spun her around. “Lean up against that tree,” I said, and she leaned forward and placed her hands on the tree. I pulled her shorts off. She was already such a natural at this, as she straightened her knees and arched her back and bent over.

That gorgeous asshole that I was just sucking on a little while ago while I came was now once again a few inches from my face. This time I pulled each sweet cheek apart until I could plainly see that wrinkled brown little asshole, and then I gave her a direct and deep kiss right on it. After our conversation, it felt strongly humiliating to be on my knees, pathetically kissing her shitter. No wonder the girl had such an arrogant side. How could she help it?

Her beauty brought such a wave of humility over me, I suddenly decided that I was going to give her everything she ever wanted. I decided that, as beautiful as she was, she deserved to be allowed to piss in my mouth without having to worry about anything but how good it was going to feel to do. When I pulled my mouth away from her ass, I begged in as pleading tone as I could muster, “Naomi, please piss in my mouth. Please let me drink your hot piss. Please Naomi, I’ll do anything for you if you’ll just do me the honor of urinating in my open mouth!”

Naomi looked like the cat that ate the canary as she watched my lips return to their rightful place on her asshole, and then she said, “Anything? You could be sorry…”

I stopped kissing her asshole long enough to say, “Absolutely anything. I’ll lick your ass all you want. I’ll let you piss in my mouth all you want. I’ll be your personal toilet, your personal total slave.” She was laughing with a little embarrassment but it was clear she loved every word she heard.

“You dirty old man, that’s a start,” she teased. “but I want more. I can’t imagine how good it would feel to go to the bathroom on somebody, but I can tell you, I want to find out. Me, I’m going to be standing here like an absolute princess, without a care in the world, as I turn you into my personal human toilet, and piss right in your mouth. But if I do that to you, you have to do something very special for me in return.” She didn’t laugh this time, but the smile was wickedly beautiful.

“What do you want?” I asked.

She said, “Remember what we talked about in the car, and you told me what you would’ve let me do when we were coming? I want that.”

At first I wasn’t exactly sure what she was talking about. And then I remembered my little confession to her…

“You really want to do that?” I asked, not believing my ears.

“If you’ll let me…”

I was so turned on, the truth was I could hardly wait to live in degradation for this beautiful girl. “OK, I’ll do it.” I said.

“Do what?” she asked. “I want to hear you say it…”

“OK,” I said, “I’ll let you shit in my mouth. Then I will be your absolute toilet and slave to use as you please whenever you wish. Just please don’t make me eat it.”

The look that was on her face was indescribable. She said, “Why not? Don’t you want me to enjoy any pleasure that I can dream up? I’ve often dreamed of making someone literally eat shit. So let’s get this straight. I’ll allow you the pleasure of getting to be my piss-drinking slave, and you’ll let me shit right in your mouth and make you eat it, then kiss my ass in gratitude, right?”

This time I flushed. I couldn’t even answer her, I had such a raging hard-on. I just started licked her ass as slavishly as I could. I wanted my manner to be as demeaning as possible so that she would get the message that she had become my absolute master. I was hers for the taking to use in any way she pleased. And I don’t know if she knew it, but I was also in love with her.

“I gotta piss,” she said with a sneer in her voice, “You think you can stop lapping my ass long enough to get your mouth down to my pussy so I can piss in it?”

I moved my mouth down and covered her pussy. Using my tongue I sought out her pisshole and licked it. My nose was buried in her asshole, and what few breaths I could draw had the end result of my sniffing her asshole, which was still drenched in my saliva. Then I felt a small trickle of piss on my tongue, followed by a deluge of piss, which I thirstily began to swallow.

I can’t justly describe the sensations I felt as the piss from this delicious not-even 18 year old goddess sprayed into my mouth, coating my lips, teeth and tongue with a tart saltiness, and then slaked down my throat. I’d never felt anything more humiliating in my life. I guess I only drank maybe 20 ounces or so when I just could not drink any more. I felt strangely guilty that I couldn’t drink all of my master’s piss, so I deliberately moved my face into her flow and allowed her to urinate on my face. This made her laugh. When she was almost done pissing, I moved my mouth back onto her pussy so that I could drink the remaining amount.

Finally, when she finished, she told me to stay still, and so I stayed kneeling there in her piss, with her piss all over my face, in my mouth, and in my stomach. She reached back and she pulled one cheek of her ass apart so I could breathe, albeit while sniffing her asshole. And she said, “I don’t know if I like it better pissing in your mouth this way, or facing you. In this position, it seems colder, maybe more arrogant. Plus you have to sniff my ass while I piss in you. But the other way, I can stare right into your eyes while I use you like a toilet. That’s more personal. Sort of insulting. I like that too. Either way, I love pissing on your face - that feels great!” Then she giggled.

Then she reached back and pulled the other ass cheek apart, too, and the sensation that each breath of life depended on sniffing her asshole seemed to increase. Maybe it was the way she was holding her ass open for me to sniff that made it seem so purposeful. But I was totally unprepared for it when she let a wet fart go hissing right into my nose, naturally as I was inhaling.

“I think I like this way better,” she said with an amused snicker, then she let another smaller fart go. The scent permeated the air, or maybe it just seemed that way to me because I was the one sniffing her asshole while she broke wind in my face. I had handed over all semblance of dignity over to this young girl.

Suddenly she said, “Shit, it’s getting late, we really better get going. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I pulled my face, rather reluctantly out of her gorgeous ass. “Your right, let’s head back,” I said, but then she looked at me kind of strangely and said, “Wait, I just want to soak this in for a moment.”

And she took a step away from me, and turned to face me. I was still so distracted by the sight of her nude-from-the-waist down body that it took me a second to realize she was staring at me because I was kneeling in her piss and mud, with urine all over my face, hair and shirt. She couldn’t hide a smirk, and then she started to say something I didn’t catch, but then made a dismissing gesture with her hand and said something like, “Forget it. Not now.”

I felt too much of a sense of urgency to get back before we got caught to bother trying to satisfy my curiosity about what she was going to say. I took off all of my clothes, and quite nakedly walked back to my car. I work out all of the time, and luckily I had some fresh gym clothes in my bag in the trunk. I put those on and used a towel to clean myself up as best as I could, but I know I still reeked of my lovely goddess’s piss.

Finally, we got back in the car and I started to drive out of the park. Things were a little strangely quiet for a few minutes, and then she said, “I don’t know if this is good for me…” She began stroking my hair in a curiously tender way. It felt fabulous, and it once again occurred to me that I might really be in love with her.

“I mean, I’m getting a really big head here. You’re really great for my ego. But I don’t know if I should get too used to having that much fun pissing on someone, y’know.” I knew she was speaking to me seriously, in a non-sexual way, but my dick didn’t seem to know it, and I began to involuntarily stiffen.

“I don’t want this all to be just about kinky sex”, she concluded.

“Naomi?” I began, “I’ve got another confession for you. I’ve been dreaming about you for almost a year now, and now I realize I’ve been wanting you for even longer than that. I couldn’t do any of this lightly.” And I reached up and stroked her hand as she played with my hair. I didn’t look, but I could feel that she was beaming. Still, her voice sounded concerned.

“Well, guess what,” she said, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for at least that long. Most of the time it was on the back burner. You know. Our age difference, and you being my Dad’s best friend and all of that. But I’ve had a crush on you forever. I just never imagined, even in my wildest dreams of us being together, that things would be like this. You know, the sex, the slavery, the piss…”

In spite of myself, I had a full erection. I concentrated on the issues we were facing, but my cock had a mind of its own, and every time she said something that eluded to what we had just done, well…

“…I love it, but I don’t know if it’s right. I mean if I really like you, how could I do those things to you?” she asked with real concern. Her words, along with the still-present taste of her sweet piss, were doing nothing to calm my tumescence. Each exhale had the slightest hint of ammonia. It kept part of my mind on nurturing her natural desires to sexually degrade me.

“What we do sexually does not define us or our relationship,” I said, “It’s just part of it. As I hold your hand right now, I’m not feeling like a slave at all. Do you feel like a master?”

“No,” she said, “Actually, I’m feeling very much like holding you.” She slid over toward me and threw her arms around me. Then she leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I was amazed that the scent that still emanated from me did not seem to distract her at all.

I said, “Let’s just be together and see how things unfold.” I looked over at her and we smiled. She looked so sweet and wonderful. She kissed me full on the lips as I struggled to keep an eye on the road.

“Pew! Your breath stinks!” she laughed. “I wonder why that would be,” she said, pretending to muse with her index finger on her chin in a mock contemplative gesture. After a few moments, I began to notice that she was staring at me. When I turned and looked at her, I saw she was studying my mouth. “I can’t believe I really just pissed in your mouth,” she said almost introspectively. “And you were so stiff when it happened. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Then she reached down to my crotch and was greeted eagerly by my stiff dick. “Wow!” she cried, “holy shit! How long has this been going on?!?”

“Just about all along,” I replied.

“Geez, you really get off on my being rude to you, don’t you? Hell you came licking my dirty asshole. And I don’t remember being exactly nice about it either!” She seemed to be really loving this situation, and although I know it should have been the other way around, I was relieved that the softer side of our relationship clearly wasn’t blunting the sharp sting of our kinkier sexual desires.

“I imagine that it must have felt tremendously degrading to let someone else, especially someone over 20 years younger than you, have her way with your mouth and face. You know, when I was pissing all over you,” she giggled. “But tell me, I’m really curious about this: what did it feel like, after having me piss in your mouth, down your throat, and on your face… What did it feel like when I farted right in your face?” She let out a belly laugh.

Once again, I felt the tart slap of humiliation and the accompanying facial flush as this gorgeous girl rode rough-shod on my dignity, and I loved it. I answered her by asking “How did it feel to you, farting in my face! Which, by the way, you timed perfectly so I was breathing in at just that moment.”

Her laugh had such a decadent ring to it. It was music to my ears. I adored her.

“It felt fantastic. Maybe someday - not with me mind you - someday you’ll know what it feels like to push your ass into someone else’s face and then fart. It’s a selfish, mind-blowing pleasure, let me tell you.” She caressed my cock as she spoke, and I thought I was going to explode.

“Want to hear a secret?” she asked provocatively. “I almost shit on you back there…”

I jerked my gaze to her and opened my mouth in shock, but nothing came out. Finally, I managed to get out, “You’re kidding! When?”

“When I farted. It was almost more than gas. I really had to go. I was going to say something to you about it when we were getting dressed, but I figured we better just get out of there…”

I was as close to coming as I’d ever been, but I didn’t want to waste it on a hand job so I managed barely to bring myself back from the brink. “Do you still have to go?”

“Well, yeah. Of course. Actually, now that we’re talking about it, I gotta go pretty badly.”

We were still maybe ten minutes from where I was going to drop her off, and it was still fairly secluded, but not nearly as much so as in the park. I started to pull the car over to the shoulder of the road.

“What are you doing?!?” she asked. “We can’t do anything here, it’s way too visible!” Suddenly she pointed to an off road about a quarter mile ahead. “Go there! That might be a good place.”

We pulled into the road. It was unpaved and clearly not used very much. We went back maybe a half mile and the road just ended. It appeared to be an access road of some sort. She reached over to my dick and gave it a squeeze. The sweetest smile beamed from her beautiful mouth as she asked, “Are you turned on enough to once again become my slave? You made a bargain with me back in the park, remember? I think I held up my end of the deal when you drank my piss, right?”

I turned to her and kissed her full on the mouth. When I pulled away, her face wrinkled up in mock disgust. “How long do you think you’ll taste that piss?,” she teased. My dick was rock-hard in her hand.

“A deal’s a deal,” I replied, “I never welch on a bargain.”

“Some deal! I think it was win-win for me and lose-lose for you!” She smirked a little as she said, “Well, I really have to go to the bathroom. Are you ready to sacrifice all personal dignity merely to please me at my whimsy? You gotta work hard to keep me happy, you know.” and there was that arrogant smile that I’d fallen in love with.

“Wait here,” I said, and got out of the car. I walked around to her side of the car, and open the door with a flourish; like a servant escorting a princess out of a royal carriage. “I am completely and utterly at your service, Miss,” I said with great formality as I took her hand and helped her out of the car. She laughed a little self-consciously at my antics, but the flush on her cheeks revealed just how much she was enjoying this “royal” treatment.

She assumed the voice of a Princess as she said, “Good, we’re finally here. Good job, servant. I believe I may just throw a bone your way for your efforts.” Her tone dripped with arrogant, sexy smugness as she continued, “I believe I must relieve myself, and as you can see there is no suitable receptacle in sight, save for your mou-” she said as she stroked my chin with one pointed finger, “I mean, would you be so kind as to be of service to me while I address my ‘issue’?”

I pretended to believe she meant to assist her, and I behaved accordingly. “Where would you like to go, Princess?” I asked.

“This place will do,” she said, “Please lie down here.” She pointed to a clearing on her side of the car. She chuckled softly as I lay down in the dirt she had pointed to. I pretended to be puzzled when she stood over me, with each beautiful foot on either side of my head, close to my ears.

Then she pulled her shorts off her amazingly youthful body, lifted one leg, then the other, and kicked her shorts over to the side. I stared up at her moist pussy, the one from which I had drunk so much piss from no more than a half hour ago. I could still feel it sloshing around in my stomach. She had very small lips, so her pussy made no more than a thin line underneath her pubic hair. I love pussies like that, and I was fully at attention. Her pussy had a mild sweet-piss fragrance to it, mixed with an overtone of girl-come.

The fine line of her pussy seemed to point directly back to the perfect round globes that made her ass. At the juncture of those globes - the very bottom of the crack of her ass - I could barely make out the wrinkled orifice that was to be the center of my worship, the source of my ultimate degradation, and the point where I would sacrifice my self-esteem for her whim. And all of this to put this beautiful girl on a pedestal so high it would make her feel giddy with arrogant pleasure.

I was so mesmerized, I’d almost forgotten my role in the little scene we were spontaneously whipping up. Regaining my faзade of puzzled shock, I asked, “Princess, what are you doing? I’m not sure if a lowly servant such as myself is worthy of witnessing as beautiful a site as your nudity, your highness!”

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel lowly enough very soon,” she chuckled, and she squatted down to my face. As she did so, the slit of her pussy opened slightly, and the deep wrinkles of her precious asshole became plainly visible. I could make out each wrinkle, and to my great pleasure, the scents of her body became much stronger. I never knew the mixture of a woman’s come, piss, and ass could smell so damn good!

The look of regal mischievousness on her face was just exquisite, and I tried as hard as I could to burn that image into my brain. “First, kiss my royal asshole,” she announced with amusement. I busied my mouth with the task of fulfilling her wish, lovingly and repeatedly pressing my lips against her lightly haired, earthy scented asshole. “Thank you, Princess, for this privilege,” I eked out between anal kisses.

When she was satisfied with this humiliation, she squatted down lower until her asshole was firmly planted against my adoring mouth. In a gesture that is just magical when it’s done by a gorgeous woman, she swung her hair back over her shoulder, like a model in a shampoo commercial. She licked her lips and fell completely out of character as she asked, “You ready to service me, John?” Her voice had a lusty huskiness to it that made my prick strain forward. The use of my given name, and the reasons why, were not lost on me. “Cause, I think I’m gonna just sit here and take a shit, OK?”

The arrogant brutishness of her words kicked degradation right down my throat, which made me submit to her in absolution. I strained my mouth open as wide as I could over her asshole and dutifully waited to be used. She broke her gaze with me momentarily as she began to push the excrement in her bowels down toward the asshole that was puckering in my mouth. I extended my tongue forward and lovingly caressed her asshole as she prepared to use me in the worst possible way.

Suddenly, a small stream of piss appeared from her little slit and splashed onto my face. I closed my eyes, but I heard her laugh. At nearly the same time a hot wet fart escaped from her ass and hissed right into my open mouth. It was unbearably strong, and I would have gagged if I could. But the increasing weight of her ass as she pressed down on my face prevented that.

“Oooh, I smell that,” she said. “That must taste just awful. God, it’s fun making you suck the stench out of my ass! And I have so much more to do yet!”

I had felt her asshole belch the gas into my mouth with my tongue, as I continually lapped away at her, like a good slave. Next I felt her asshole open up more slowly and almost immediately deposit her first load of shit in my mouth. It came out pretty fast with a near continuous stream of gas. It was very soft and exquisitely bitter, but I chewed it like candy. I ate her shit with clear demonstrations of pleasure, like it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. I made little moaning sounds like a man eating the best meal he’d ever had. And to tell the truth, it was the worst thing I could possibly imagine tasting, and yet I’d never tasted anything more delicious than her shit at that moment.

In spite of the piss on my face, I opened my eyes to look up at her. My eyes stung like hell when her caustic urine ran into them, but I didn’t care. She looked unbelievably beautiful at that moment, and incredibly cruel. She had a look that only someone who has known the uniquely rude pleasure of dumping in someone else’s mouth and watching them eat their shit can have.

Apparently, the first piece of soft shit I had just eaten was just a tentative dumping because what came next was quite copious. It was very soft, and filled my mouth like an incredibly bitter pudding. There were chunks of what I guessed must be indigestible food. The entire time I continued to busily lick the rim of her asshole. Then I began gulping down her filthy shit in earnest.

The next thing I noticed was that Naomi had begun furiously fingering her clit, and her come soon started flowing down onto my face and into my nose. I decided to follow suit and began stroking my cock. I tried to keep it toned down, though, because I knew I wouldn’t last too long.

She said in near-orgasmic distraction, “That’s it, suck it down, slave! I’m almost done shitting on you.” It was the same tone she had in her voice when I was licking her ass in the back seat of the car.

She seemed to be in her own world as she masturbated on my face and shit in my mouth. She was speaking, but I’m not even sure she was fully aware of me. “God, it feels good to shit on someone!” she cried softly in her total self-absorption. “And then making them eat it– AAARGH!” The force of her orgasm forced out the last of her shit which I greedily swallowed in spite of the ever-nagging desire to puke. She seemed to come forever, and I - on the brink of coming myself - finished eating her shit. I continued to lick my teeth clean as she started to subside into post-orgasmic bliss.

When she finally stopped coming, I began licking her asshole clean of the remaining shit. Then I drove my tongue in very deep, coating it with still more of her personal stink, and blew sperm everywhere. I came a truckload as I continued to serve as her personal ass-licking bidet.

* * * * *
That was several months ago. She got home with no major incident, and I went back to my apartment and took a long hot shower. I stunk so bad, and I was absolutely spent. A couple of days later I faced Mark and told him the truth about his daughter and I, save the gory details about our sex life. I told him that I had fallen in love with her and I couldn’t get her out of my head. He was surprisingly cool about it. He said, “I had a feeling there was something between you two. I know a lot of people would have a problem with the age difference, but you’re a good guy, and I think you make a good couple.

“But be careful with her. Make sure you treat her right, OK? She’s my little Princess, you know.”

He had no idea just how much I did know.

We’ve been dating mostly openly ever since, and our relationship is really quite normal, save for our kinky sexual lifestyle. With my older age and some degree of chivalry not being quite dead with me, I have assumed a leading role in our relationship, and she’s happy most of the time to just be with me. And most of the time, we have what we call “vanilla” sex. It’s the kind of sex most people have, and it’s filled with the usual fucking, cock-sucking, pussy licking, etc. In fact, when our sex is vanilla, I sometimes am dominant. Just last week we tried anal sex for the first time.

But when we have “chocolate” sex, her word is law, and she is my absolutely governing goddess and princess. I cannot possibly be humiliated or degraded too much by her, and have learned how to completely control any sort of gag reflexes I might have in order to accommodate her worst, rudest whims with a smile.

We just might be the perfect American couple.

My name is Arnold; I am a small, 32-year-old guy. I fully admit to you my long criminal history, but that all stopped when I met my wife Jane some six months ago. She was 19, a tall brunette with a figure to die for. It was obvious to me that she worked out when I first saw her, because although she had big breasts and thick thighs, they were very firm.

As soon as I met Jane I became obsessed with having her, and resolved to give up crime for good. I got myself a respectable job, and within two weeks of that I asked her to marry me. She agreed, and we were married three weeks after that. I met Jane’s relatives for the first time at the wedding.

There were only Jane’s female relatives present, her widowed grandmother Anne, who was 55, her divorced mother Grace, 44, and her sisters, Leanne and Sophie, who were 17 and 16 respectively. I noticed immediately that the tall full figure ran in the family, Leanne and Sophie being very similarly built to Jane. Grace probably was in the past, but had now put on a few pounds; Anne was even bigger, with huge tits and a big ass. It had always been a habit of mine to decide with women which stars they most resembled, and I decided Anne was Cher, Grace was a younger Elizabeth Taylor, Leanne being Neve Campbell and Sophie Melissa Joan Hart. My own darling Jane has a real look of Shannen Doherty about her. None of my relatives attended, having disowned me long ago.

My first experience of the family did not go very well; in fact Grace asked Jane in front of everyone what had persuaded her to marry such a short, weedy wimp. All the women laughed, including my new bride, which I found rather hurtful. Other than that, the wedding passed reasonably well, and we set off to start our new life together.

Problems started very early on, due partly to Jane’s apparent reluctance to have sex very often after the first night, and partly to her cooking, which was frankly awful. It all came to a head about a month after the wedding, when Jane prepared a particularly inedible meal. I exploded, which was partly due to my sexual frustration.

“What the hell is this?” I yelled, pointing at my plate. “It is disgusting, I would rather eat shit!”

A huge shouting match followed, with Jane sobbing and running off to sleep in the spare room. I tried to make peace with her next morning, but she would have none of it.

Chapter 2

When I returned home that evening, I found Jane and the four above-mentioned relatives sitting together in the lounge. As I entered, Grace told me solemnly to sit down.

“I have been checking up on you since you married my daughter,” she began. “You are a nasty little crook, and I have found out by offering money that you were involved in the armed robbery at the petrol station a couple of miles away three months ago. In fact, I have conclusive proof which I have lodged with my lawyers, with the instruction to pass it on to the police at my instigation, or if anything should happen to me.”

“What do you want from me?” I asked, my face ashen. She had me over a barrel.

“You have a choice,” she informed me. “You can accept our punishment for your treatment of my daughter, or you can go to prison for ten years.”

Thinking that it could not be worse than losing ten years of my life, I accepted her terms.

“Right,” she continued. “For a start, you can take off your clothes.”

“What?” I exclaimed incredulously.

“Just do it!” she yelled.

Despite my embarrassment at stripping in front of the five of them, I decided it was best not to upset this stern, dominant woman.

“Oh my god!” laughed Leanne, as my genitals were displayed. “Look at that miserable little dick. No wonder you said you didn’t want him fucking you any more, you couldn’t have felt a thing. He should have told you he wasn’t capable of satisfying a woman!” The five women screamed with laughter.

I was then ordered into the kitchen, where I found a place set at the table. There was a plate there, with a silver cover over it. After I sat down, Grace lifted the cover to reveal the contents, which I found to be eight large turds of varying consistency and colour.

“Jane told me you preferred to eat shit,” Grace explained. “So as you are now family, Mom, Leanne, Sophie and I thought we would help you out. We prepared this yesterday, so it is a little dry, but I am sure it has retained its flavour.”

“You really can’t ask me to actually eat all that filth,” I protested.

“Oh but you will,” she countered. “If that is not all finished in an hour, we will all make sure you sing soprano for the next week. I realise you may find it a bit difficult to keep it all down, being your first time, so I have left a bucket beside you. See you in an hour.”

She closed the door, and I studied the foul mess. I didn’t know how I could possibly eat it, but didn’t like the alternative. So I picked up the first one and began to bite on it. I have never tasted anything so disgusting, and began gagging immediately. It was the worst hour I had experienced, alternatively eating the different tasting turds and throwing up into the bucket. Finally I finished, and a short time later the women came into the room.

“How was it?” Grace asked brightly.

“Awful, I replied honestly. “I could never go through that again.” The women laughed out loud at this.

“You don’t understand,” giggled Grace. “We prepared this yesterday so we could give you fresh tonight. Let’s go up to the bathroom shall we?”

“Oh no please,” I began to sob. “I really can’t take any more.”

“You would think he didn’t enjoy eating shit,” laughed Sophie, as I was dragged by the hair up to the bathroom.

Once there, I was made to lie on the tiled floor of the big shower.

“Well Arnold, my dear Son in Law,” grinned Grace. “This is where you make your first acquaintance with all our assholes and pussies. Mom and I are most experienced, as we used my wimp father as a toilet for years. It will be the first time for the girls.”

“Yes, and I can’t wait to get my asshole over his toilet mouth,” squealed Sophie.

“Nor me,” agreed Leanne. “I am looking forward to filling that mouth with shit and watching him chew it. I am going to give him all I can.”

Grace smiled down at me as she lifted her skirt and slipped off her panties. She positioned herself an inch or so above my face, and I heard her begin to strain. She farted loudly in my face three times, to the laughter of the others.

“I always feel the anticipation is the best part of a meal, don’t you?” Grace laughed, as her first turd began to emerge from her ass. “Here it comes Arnold, smell, taste and enjoy!”

The warm turd slid slowly into my mouth. The smell was worse than earlier, but the taste horribly familiar. Grace turned to watch as I began to chew her offering, gagging wildly.

“How does it feel to have a woman actually shitting into your mouth Arnold?” laughed Sophie. “Does it make you feel degraded, less of a man? Well you had better get used to it, because you have to take it from four other lovely ladies, and that is only tonight!”

“Yes Arnold,” added Leanne. “You are a ladies’ toilet now, and that is never going to change. Does the prospect frighten you, knowing that you are going to be used by whatever women the five of us decide, no matter how many or how sick you feel? Because we plan to make you sick an awful lot, I promise you!” The women laughed again, as I considered the enormity of what she was saying.

Grace fed me another log, and then managed a smaller one before making me clean her ass with my tongue.

“Now you are an ass licker as well Arnold,” sneered my wife. “How does it feel to know you are going to spend your life being an ass and pussy licker as well as piss drinker and shit eater? Because in return for do doing these duties, I am going to make sure you never have to fuck me or anyone else again. Isn’t that nice?” The women roared with laughter, as I sobbed inside at her words.

Anne came forward next, removing her ample panties. Her ass really was huge, as it came down towards me. Instead of stopping, she bounced her huge weight down on to me crushing my face beneath her painfully. She repeated this five or six times, to the great delight of the others.

“That’s it Grandma,” yelled my wife cruelly. “Squash the little bastard’s face, hurt him for me!”

Finally this stopped, and Anne prepared to abuse me.

“Pull those cheeks wide Arnold, and watch it come,” she commanded. “I don’t know what it is going to be like, I have had a rumbling stomach today.”

She was right. As I held her cheeks apart, a stream of thick, dark brown liquid gushed into my mouth and down my throat. More laughter, and Sophie asked me how I enjoyed my chocolate milkshake. After licking Anne clean, she treated me to a long stream of hot piss, to help the shit down, she said. She got up, and Leanne stepped forward. To my surprise, she stood on my chest. Stepping forward, she put her small bare foot on my face, and began rubbing the sole up and down my nose.

“Do you like feet Arnold?” she teased me.

“Yes he does,” my wife confirmed to her. “He is always staring at mine, or playing with them.”

“We must see that you give us plenty of foot worship then,” Leanne continued. “Foot licker and toe sucker will be added to your other duties.”

After spending some time rubbing both feet over my nose and face, allowing me to experience their strong aroma, she finally placed her ass over my face.

“Kiss my asshole Arnold,” she ordered. I spread her cheeks and put my lips to the little brown hole.

“Look at him,” young Sophie sneered with utter contempt. “Over thirty, and he is kissing teenage girl’s assholes. What a fucking tiny-dicked jerk!”

“Language Sophie,” laughed my wife. “He is my fucking tiny-dicked jerk!” More uncontrolled laughter at my expense.

“Make him smell it Leanne,” encouraged Sophie.

“Yes Arnold,” agreed Leanne. “Take a good sniff Arnold, get used to the smell of my pretty young asshole, before I deposit my load in your useless sissy mouth!”

She had me sniffing her for several minutes, with encouragement from the others, who verbally abused me, telling me I was more like a dog sniffing assholes. Finally, she dumped all the shit she could into my mouth, telling me how much she enjoyed degrading me in this way, and promising much more of the same in future.

Then it was the youngest girl’s turn. Sophie seductively slid down her panties, and asked me cheekily if I liked her little blonde pussy, and that I would be seeing a lot more of it later. Then she took her place above me, spreading her cheeks herself.

“Do you like my pretty little ass Arnold?” she enquired, not expecting any answer. “You want my young shit don’t you? Ask me for it Arnold, tell me how much you want me to shit in your mouth and make you eat it.” I did as she asked.

“You see, he does like eating shit, however much he protests,” observed Grace. “We must make sure we get him as much as we can.” The others all agreed.

Sophie emptied her bowels and bladder into me, squealing with delight throughout, and asking me if her shit was the best. I duly licked her clean, and she walked away beaming, telling my wife what a wonderful new toy she had.

As it turned out, Jane only needed to piss, but she did this with relish, making sure that some of it got sprayed over my face to the amusement of all. Amazingly, I had not vomited again since we entered the bathroom. Grace changed all that by stamping viciously on my stomach, causing me to bring up everything I had swallowed.

“Better clean that up,” she laughed, as they all returned downstairs giggling and recounting the evening’s events.

When I returned downstairs, the women were ready to go.

“Remember Arnold,” Grace told me. “You are to do everything your wife tells you from now on, or the consequences will be very bad for you. Understand?”

“Yes Ma’am,” I replied meekly.

All the women kissed Jane, and smiled at me saying “See you soon Arnold” and laughing. When they had left, Jane told me that now I was only her toilet we would not be sleeping in the same bed anymore, I was to have the spare room. She also informed me that in future I would be eating her shit and drinking her piss every day. I had in fact expected those things.

She told me it was time for bed, and we went upstairs stopping at my room. Surprisingly, she put her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek.

“You know Mom said you have to accept what I say?” she said softly.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Well I want you to open your legs.”

Not quite understanding, I did as she asked and suddenly felt her knee smash into my naked balls. I screamed and hit the floor as the most incredible pain shot right up through me.

“See you for my morning piss,” she said sweetly, then turned to go to her room, laughing her head off.

This was only the start of my humiliation and degradation.

Driving home from work Allison was suddenly hit with an overwhelming desire to play with her pussy and bring herself to a massive cum. Fortunately it was raining and the windows of her car were adequately fogged to give her some privacy as she reached under her dress searching for her already wet cunny. Immediately she realized that her pantyhose would prevent her from any satisfactory stimulation of her little button. No matter how hard she pushed, she couldn’t put enough pressure on her fun spot to be enjoyable. Trying to control her car and pull her pantyhose down was tricky, but she finally managed to pull the damn things down below her ass and cunt and gain access to her nylon panties. Whew, this was better. Now Allison was massaging her pussy crack through her panties and could feel her wetness seeping through the cloth. Ummm, that felt good, but it would be better if she could just get her finger around the leg hole and put it in her cunt. She also wanted to taste herself - this always helped her get aroused.

For about half a mile Allison was content rubbing her button with one finger inside her panties and taking an occasional taste. Now her mind started to drift into her fantasy world and she visualized a lovely piece of shit and had an immediate desire to taste her own asshole. She lifted up on the car seat and tried to get hand under her ass to explore her back hole. Try as she would, she just couldn’t manage to get her finger into her asshole. Damn, how frustrating. She finally gave up and decided to pull over and finish the job properly. Up ahead she saw a gas station with a shabby restaurant attached and decided it would be safe to pull in and park in a far corner. With all the rain, no one was likely to see what she was doing.

Once parked, Allison lay down as best she could on the front seat with her head under the steering wheel. She immediately pulled her pantyhose and panties off and spread her legs wide. Ah, this is more like it. She felt secure and wanted to take her time and have a massive organism. She even played with her panties for a while, sniffing and licking the wet nylon, further enhancing her arousal.

Allison dipped her finger into her cunt, got it wet and slid it down to her waiting back hole. She pushed in, hoping to meet some shit to dig out and enjoy while she finished bringing herself off. No luck…nothing but an empty hole. She smelled her finger and enjoyed the mild shit aroma. This only heightened her determination to have some of her own fudge to munch on while she came. This had become a ritual with Allison and she wasn’t about to have less than a perfect cum. She thought about driving home and finishing things up there, but she was too aroused to stop now.

Allison pushed and grunted and thought she detected the familiar feel of a turd moving down her tunnel, but a quick probe with her finger produced nothing. She was determined and once again grunted and strained to move some shit to her waiting finger. With one final push Allison was rewarded with the touch of something firm against the tip of her finger. She relaxed, but the moving turd didn’t stop moving. She tried to constrict her anus, but her shit had a mind of its own and suddenly slipped out of Allison’s hole to lay on the car seat between her legs. Christ, it was beautiful. Allison ran her finger over the 8″ length and felt her heart pounding with excitement. She was about to dip in and scoop up a fingerfull, when she heard the deep rumble of a large engine. Christ, there was a tour bus parked right beside her and people were getting off in droves. She then noticed that it’d stopped raining and the sun was shinning. Now what?

Allison quickly gathered up her trophy turd and then noticed an older man had stopped outside her car and was looking at her. Allison tried to lock her door, but it was too late as the man pulled her car door open releasing the distinctive shit aroma.

“Young lady, do you need some help?” He said, then seeing the large turd in Allison’s hand added with a sly grin, “Uh, you shit yourself?”

Allison was too shocked to answer. The man turned to his group and called out, “you folks just go ahead…I’m gonna help this young lady clean up something in her car.” He turned back to Allison and said, “my name’s James, what’s your.”

“Uh, Allison.” She answered, “guess I had a bit of an accident.”

“You sure it was an accident?” James asked, looking at the turd cradled in Allison’s hand. “Looks like you’re kind of fond of that lovely piece of shit you’re holding there.”

The tour bus people didn’t see James again until they returned from their lunch and found him standing by the bus drinking a coke. Later some of his fellow travelers commented on his breath.

Allison continued her drive home very satisfied. Her asshole was sparkling clean, thanks to James’s thoroughness, and her panties and panty hose were back in place. Christ, what a day!

I had been ill for a couple of days and Mom became worried. She had tried all sorts of home remedies to get my fever to break. Finally, she decided to bite the bullet and take me to see our family doctor, Doctor Messina, a man I now know prescribed enemas to cure about everything.

However, I don’t recall anything spectacular about that visit, but following the visit fireworks began to take shape. I remember leaving Messina’s office and going downtown with Mom to a Rexall Drug Store where she purchased a red and black box that appeared to be about 8 inches wide and I think a foot and a half long. I did not know what she was getting and I didn’t ask. I was just with her. We then went straight back home where Mom placed me into bed.

Later that night, I awoke burning up with fever. I called to Mom and both she and Dad came in. They called Doctor Messina on the phone. That was followed by Mom giving me some aspirin and then taking me into the bathroom where she proceeded to open that red and black box.

I couldn’t help but watch her as she pulled a big red bag, then some red tubing, and a couple of black things out of that box. She appeared to know what she was doing and she soon had all those things together. In fact, before I knew it, Mom had gotten up, walked over to the sink, turned on the faucet and began putting water into the bag. Then she put the tubing into the bag and walked over to the toilet and sat down holding the bag in one hand and reaching for me with the other. I didn’t know whether to run or go to her. But regardless, the next thing I knew, I was bent over Mom’s lap and she was taking my underwear off. I think it was at that point that Mom told me that she was going to give me a cold tap water enema to help reduce the fever. I didn’t say anything, I was at her mercy.

Within moments, though, I felt her smear something onto my bootie hole followed, I think, by Mom saying something like, “this may hurt a little.” I tensed up and then felt Mom sliding something up into me. It didn’t hurt, but it did feel weird. I started to say something, but before I could, Mom unsnapped the thing on the tubing and low and behold, I began my first experience with that red bag. And if I might add, I think I became addicted to that “thing” from that point on.

AFTERMATH

For, there was no doubt, I liked the feeling of the water entering me. I don’t think many people know a child that young would experience sensuality, but I did and that was enough to make me an enema addict for life. In fact, I couldn’t get the thought of taking another enema out of my mind. I think I must have dreamed many a dream which depicted Mother giving me enemas. To tell the truth, some were so life-like that I probably would have swore that they were real. I guess you might say that by the time I was 7, if dreams were reality, I would have taken hundreds of enemas where in reality I probably only had taken one.

I, however, continued to hope against hope that someday, I would again experience that ecstasy I experienced years before. In fact, I even wished to become sick and every time I got sick, I hoped Mom would remember what Doctor Messina prescribed that one special night, but to my amazement, she didn’t.

Finally, at around the age of 9, I decided that I had to do something on my own. I had to experience that feeling again. Just dreaming no longer filled the bill. So what did little old me do, I dreamed up a plot that I just knew would work.

THE PLOT

Having looked up the word enema in the dictionary, I now knew that an enema was not only given to relieve fever, but to relieve constipation as well. So, what did I do, I decided that I was going to get constipated, at least I was going to let Mom think I was.

I decided that the bathroom at home was off limits. This way Mom couldn’t tell whether I was having movements or not. In addition, I decided to eat about everything I could in front of Mom and Grandma night after night.

Would my plan work? I didn’t know, but I was sure going to give it the old American try because I was desperate.

THE FIRST ATTEMPT

I believe that my first attempt took place on a Sunday night, a school night. I remember that I waited till it was somewhere after nine o’clock to allow my brother to be asleep. I didn’t want anyone but Mom and possibly my grandmother knowing of my problem.

I got up out of bed knowing that both Mom and Grandma were in the living room watching TV. I was just determined to give it a try. As planned, I had eaten a rather large lunch and supper that night and I knew that Mom and Grandma knew it because Grandma even commented on it to me, telling me I was going to burst if I didn’t stop eating so much.

I left my room and tip-toed into the living room with my belly looking pregnant as I planned. Mom looked up at me and asked me, “what are you doing up?”

I told her that I couldn’t sleep because my stomach was hurting and that I thought that I needed to go to the bathroom.

Grandma then said, “then you had better go!”

I told her that I had tried, but couldn’t.

Mom then asked me when was the last time that I had been able to go and I told her that I hadn’t been in about four days. Grandma looked up at me and said, “four days?”

I said, “yes, I think so.”

Grandma spoke to Mom and said, “Mary, you need to help your child out.”

Mom didn’t waste any time. She took me straight into the kitchen, opened one of the cabinets, pulled out a bottle of Fletcher’s Castoria and proceeded to deliver a super large dose down my throat.

Mom then said, “that oughta help you by morning. Now go on back to bed.”

I wasn’t at all happy. My attempt had failed and I knew that in the morning I was going to splatter shit everywhere and I knew Mom and the rest of the house would hear it, thereby ending my constipation idea. So, I had to come up with a secondary plan.

THE SECONDARY PLAN

The next morning, I got up early, way before Mom or anyone else in the house was up. I then quietly exited out the backdoor and went out behind the garage where I relieved myself in a pile of grass. Then, I quietly re-entered the house and went back to bed where I fell back to sleep. An hour or so later, Mom came into the room to wake my brother and me up for school. In doing so, Mom asked how I felt, and I said, “terrible.”

Mom asked me if I had been to the bathroom during the night and I replied a resounding, “no.”

She again took me to the kitchen and again gave me a large dose of Castoria. She said that if this dose didn’t work, she was going to call Doctor Messina for his advice.

My brother and I went on off to school where I stayed all day and intentionally missed my ride home. I wanted to walk so I could again relieve myself before I got home, which I did.

Mom met me right at the door as I entered. She looked mad. I spoke up quickly, “I had to do a little extra work in math, Mom, that is why I missed my ride home with Mrs. Jabour.”

Mom seemed satisfied with that answer and then she asked me the question I had been waiting for, “Mike, have you been to the bathroom yet?”

I, fake belly and all, said, “no, not even a rumble.” Mom, looking concerned began to shake her head in bewilderment as she began to leave the room. Then I heard her say, “I’d better give Dr. Messina a call.” I sat down and turned the TV on.

A couple of minutes later, Mom re-entered the room. This time though, Grandma was with her. They smiled at me and then sat down beside me, one on each side. I turned and looked at both of them. Then, Mom said, “I did talk with Doctor Messina and he suggested that I give you an enema, Mike.”

I just sat there looking at her and then at Grandma with this dumb look on my face. I didn’t want to seem too excited you know, but I was really busting at the gut to grab both them and hug them, but I didn’t dare.

Then, I became brave and uttered to Mom, “what exactly is that?”

Well, she him-hawed a bit and then said, “Mike, an enema is where I will be putting water up into you through your bootie hole in a very humiliating position.”

I asked her, “Will it hurt?”

Mom replied, “I don’t think so, Mike. I, myself, have only had one enema in my life and that was right before I had you. And to tell you the truth, I don’t remember it hurting. But, Mike, I do remember, that I was really embarrassed and humiliated both during the time the nurses administered the enema to me and afterwards as well.”

I inquired, “well, did it do what it was supposed to do?”

Mom smiled and said, “I don’t think I ever crapped so much in my life. In fact, if my memory serves me correct, I didn’t think I was ever going to get through pooping. You want to try one?”

I didn’t say anything so Mom again spoke up. “If you are as constipated as I think you are, it will make you feel better and I’ll try not to embarrass you too bad.”

I hugged Mom’s neck and said, “I have got to have some kind of relief. You won’t embarrass me. How in the world could you or Grandma do that? You two are not strangers like those nurses were to you at the hospital, Mom. For you have seen me naked on so many occasions I don’t dare guess. In fact, you two have bathed me, changed me, and helped me get dressed. How could giving me an enema be any different? I guess what I am trying to say to both of you is, don’t worry about me. But, my only reservation, like I said before, is that I don’t want it to be too painful.”

Mom leaned over and hugged me. Then she uttered “son, I understand what you are saying, and as for the enema hurting, the enema I took didn’t hurt too bad, only some mild cramping, which the nurses said was caused by the fact that I could never get relaxed during the time I was receiving it.” I said, “oh! then I’ll relax!”

Mom looked me straight in the eye and said, “You had better, because if you do, you might even enjoy it! Because, to be totally honest with you, the feeling I felt about half way through was rather erotic and if I had been given the enema under different circumstances, I might have even enjoyed it.”

I grinned again and then said, “Mom, what does erotic mean?”

Both Mom and Grandma grinned.

I then said, “aren’t you going to tell me?”

Mom, still smiling, said “strange! I think?”

I shook my head a little and smiled.

Mom seeing this spoke up, “I guess that smile means that you have decided to take an enema, right?”

I smiled a super big smile.

Both Mom and Grandma noticed. Then Mom spoke up saying, “well, go on back to the back bathroom and I’ll be back there in a minute or so.”

Grandma then added, “I know that you will feel better in a few minutes.”

I said, “I hope so,” as I turned and walked towards the door leading to my room.

As I exited I heard Grandma tell Mom, “I guess I can help out a little. Mary, you get the Vaseline and soap out of the kitchen and I’ll get the enema bag out of the bathroom cabinet.”

THE ENEMA

I couldn’t believe it. My plan had worked. I was about to receive the enema that I had been wanting for oh so long. I was so excited that I began to develop goosebumps all over my body and if I am not mistaken, I also began to get a hard on.

The first thing I did was close the door to my room. Then, I locked the bathroom door leading from my room into the bathroom and opened the other door to the bathroom, the door leading to the kitchen. I looked out awaiting my treat and also to see what they were doing. I soon saw Grandma coming out of the front bathroom door carrying this red bag, with red tubing and a black tip. (A knot began to form in my throat, not to mention also in my belly.) Mom saw me looking out, smiled and said, “I’ll be right back, we’re about ready.”

Then she walked over to her mother and took the bag and tubing from her, turned and then began walking right towards me pausing only to pick up the Ivory dishwashing soap and the Vaseline.

Soon, she was at the door. I stepped back and let her enter the bathroom. She looked me straight in the eyes and told me to get undressed. I hesitated just a second. She turned her head a little and held up the bag and tubing at me saying, “I can’t give you this with your clothes on and you do want me to give you this, don’t you?”

I hesitated no more and started removing my shirt. Seeing that, she grinned and then laid the items onto the washing machine, pointing the black nozzle at me as she did. Within seconds I was completely nude and just standing next to Mom. Mom reached over and laid her hand onto my belly. I was beginning to get too excited to be embarrassed. I tensed my stomach muscles which poked out my belly. Mom said, “you do feel a little full, but Mother is going to be helping you out in just a second or so.”

Mom then looked at me and said, making fun at my first real hard on, “Mike, what’s that?”

I grinned and for the first time felt a little embarrassed. But I countered, “I don’t know.”

Mom wasn’t ignorant. She knew that I was turned on by that red bag and hose, but she didn’t let on. She just stepped over and turned the water on. She stood there sticking her finger into the flow. I walked over and asked her what she was doing that for, and she said that she was adjusting the water for a very important reason. I asked her what was that. She replied that she didn’t want to have it too hot or it might burn me.

I said, “well, fill it with cold water.”

She laughed and then replied, “we wouldn’t want the water to be too cold either or it might cause severe cramping.”

I didn’t reply orally. I just shook my head as if I understood.

Finally, she had it just right. She took my hand in hers and pulled it over into the water. “Feel, just right. Right?”

I said, “Feels good to me.”

She reached over and took the red bag off of the washing machine and began filling it with that deliciously warm water. A second or so later she held it up and said, “that should do it, right?”

How was I to know? All I wanted was to have her give me an enema and that was just what she was doing. Then all of a sudden, I became brave and said, “awe Mom, go on and fill it all the way, I might be able to take it.”

Mom grinned at me and then stuck the bag back under the water filling it as I had requested saying, “Mike, you won’t be able to take a third of it. You are not that big.”

Within seconds, it was brim full. She again held it up for me to inspect. “Satisfied now?”

I replied, “thanks!”

She then reached for the Ivory dishwashing liquid and squirted some into the bag. Then she took the tubing off of the washing machine, clamped the shut-off tight and screwed the tubing into the bag. I knew it wasn’t long now. Then to my surprise, Mom began shaking the bag back and forth. Seeing my expression, she replied, “I don’t want the soap to be too concentrated.”

Finally, she walked over to the wall by the commode and hung the bag up. Almost immediately, a gurgling sound started. It was the water entering the tubing, priming itself for me. Mom sat down on the toilet seat and reached for the Vaseline. I handed it to her. She opened the top and took her finger and pulled out a big old glob of the stuff. My hard on was really showing now but I wasn’t embarrassed any more. Mom just patted her knee and said, “come here my child, lay yourself across here.” I did.

Mom then told me that she was going to put some of the Vaseline onto my little bootie hole so that the nozzle wouldn’t hurt as she put it in. I said, “OK,” and she proceeded. Boy, was that an erotic experience. I pushed back onto her finger as she smeared the stuff onto my crack. This caused her finger to slide up into my rectum. Mom pulled back, then realizing what I was doing, pushed it in clear up to her knuckle, I think. I gasped and then she started rotating it in and out saying, “you like this, don’t you?”

I said, “oh, yes, Mom I do.”

Mom leaned over to my ear and whispered, “well, Mike, I think you are all lubed up. You want me to give you your water now, don’t you?”

I replied, sounding almost faint, “please, I can’t wait to feel it?”

With that, Mom removed her finger from within me and asked me to get up. I did and she got up saying, “just one more thing big boy and I’ll begin, but for right now just stay here, I’ll be right back, I’ve got to get one more thing.”

With that, she left the room only to return within seconds carrying a long, black nozzle. I found out later that that was her own personal douche nozzle.

She pointed it at me and said “I think, judging from your reaction to my finger, you will probably like this bigger nozzle in you better than that tiny slim one that is in the tube now, right?”

I didn’t say anything, but watched as she proceeded to remove the small black tip from the hose and slip the larger douche nozzle in. Completing that task, she again sat back down and I again lay across her lap as before.

I hadn’t even had time to get comfortable when I felt her slide the big nozzle in. “How do you like this big old black nozzle, Mike?”

I looked back at her and said, “I love it.” Sensing my desire, she then began to slowly move the big nozzle in and out of my behind. I again said, “I love that too.”

She laughed and then replied, “you are weird, Mike.” Then she unsnapped the hose sending the warm, soapy enema water up into my behind. I gasped, then nuzzled down onto her knee. It felt great. Mom knew it and she continued to slide the nozzle in and out as the water entered.

“I think I’ve started something here, Mike. I bet you’ll want me to do this sort of thing to you more often, right?”

I replied, “oh, mama, this enema feels so gooooood. You had better.”

Mom looked over to the wall and stared at the bag. “Where are you putting all of this water? It is already half empty.”

I smiled and said, “Mom, I’ve never felt anything so pleasant before.” Then it hit me, a cramp. I told Mom. She told me to relax which I did and then she asked me if I wanted her to stop the water.

I said, “I don’t think so, it’s getting better now.”

With that, I felt her slide her hand between her knee and my stomach. Then she gently began to massage that area. I just lay there in ecstasy taking my water. Then everything stopped. “That’s all, Mike, you’ve taken that entire bag. I would never have believed it if I weren’t here viewing it.”

Now, as you might think, I did not want it to stop, but stop it did. Mom withdrew her hand from under me and then she removed the nozzle also. I got up. Then she got up. My manhood was huge and so was my belly. Mom looked down onto her pants leg and said, “what have you done here?”

I didn’t know what to say. I had never done that before. Mom just grinned and told me to expel my water. I told her, “but, Mom I’m not full. I know that I can take some more water.”

She responded to that request by saying, “that’s all the water I am going to put up in you this time. Now, go and relieve yourself.”

With that, she left the room calling to her mother, “Mom, he took the entire bag, you believe that?”

About a minute or so later, Grandma and Mom both came to the door.

“How are we doing?” Grandma asked.

I said, “just fine, I don’t think I’ve ever crapped so much in my life.”

Mom then said, “Well, that is what I gave you the enema for, wasn’t it?”

I replied, “yes, I guess so.”

Mom said, “you guess so?”

Grandma then spoke, “I hear that you were able to take an entire bag of water, Mike.”

I again spoke saying, “yes, Mam maw, I did and I think that I could have taken even more but Mom wouldn’t give it to me. I asked!”

Grandma looked at her daughter and said, “Mary?”

Then Grandma noticed the douche nozzle. “Mary, what on the earth do you mean sticking that child with that big old douche nozzle? Are you out of your wits?”

I spoke up. “Grandma, Mama got that bigger nozzle cause the little one wouldn’t stay in.”

Grandma questioned, “didn’t it hurt?”

I said, “no mam.”

Then Grandma spoke up, “Mary, I think you probably need to give Mike a couple of plain water enemas now to wash out all of the soap that remains up in him.”

Mom then replied, “Mom, you really think it is needed?”

Grandma answered, “yes, we don’t want him to get burned inside, do we?”

They both looked at me at that point and I replied, “My bootie’s yours.”

With that Mom reached up, took down the enema bag, and handed it to Grandma who began the ordeal of washing out the bag before filling it with water again. I looked at her intently counting the seconds. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she had the bag full again. I smiled at her and she in turn smiled back at me as she attached the red hose to the bulging bag. I smirked a little which prompted this response from Mom, “After I get finished giving you this enema, Mike, I don’t want to find what I found on my leg the last time.”

I said, “Mom! I didn’t do that on purpose.”

With that Mom giggled, grabbed the bulging bag from her Mother and hung the bag beside where I was standing. Again, just like before I heard the gurgling of the water filling the hose. I about exploded with desire.

Mom then sat down on the toilet and patted her lap. I hurriedly lay across her lap and she began the chore of lubricating my bootie hole with Vaseline. I pushed my hips back toward her finger causing it to again slip inside my rectum. I groaned. Then, to my amazement, Mom stuck another finger up into me. I thought what in the world was she doing? She began wiggling both fingers stretching the hole open. Then, I felt her slid the douche pipe between her fingers and up into me and without even withdrawing her fingers. I really groaned as she opened the tube’s shut-off which allowed the enema to begin flowing into me.

I wasn’t in pain, so I smiled and lay content across Mom’s lap as ounce upon ounce of water filled me. Both Mom and Grandma knew that I was in heaven. I tried to breathe normal but to no avail.

Ounce by ounce the water invaded my abdomen and it didn’t take long for this bag to empty. This time, however, to my amazement, Mom wasn’t through. She didn’t pull the big black nozzle out of my rectum. Instead, she just reached up from where she was sitting snapped the shut-off and unhooked the bag. I started to get up, but she put her hand onto my back and pushed me back down. I wondered what the hell is she doing? Then I realized.

Mom unscrewed the tubing from the bag and leaned over and handed Grandma the bag who in turn turned on the water in the sink and began filling the bag again.

Grandma spoke saying, “Mike, I guess you realize now that we’re going to give you a really big enema this time. You will let us know if it starts to hurt, right?”

I said, “I’ll try and take as much as I can.”

Grandma said, “it will do you a lot of good if you do.”

About that time, Grandma had it full again and she proceeded to hand it to Mom. Mom, in turn, screwed the tube into the bottle and as with the other 2 times, she hung it above me. The hose again gurgled and then there was silence except for the snap of Mom opening the shut-off.

Again, the enema water rushed into me. My stomach began to ache with delight again. Mom, like before, placed her loving hand between her leg and my stomach, probing, pushing, uplifting the enema water way up into my intestines. I reached back for Mom’s other hand. She grabbed hold to my grip. I smiled and held onto Mom’s free hand as my enema continued to fill my bloated stomach. A minute or so passed. I was still laying there. Finally, I heard Mom shutting the shut-off again. Then she said, “I can’t believe it, you have taken 2 full bags. Mama! He has taken 2 full bags of water and I think that he might be able to take even more, what do you think?”

Grandma replied, “Where in the world is a little guy like you putting all that water? Are you full?”

I said, “maybe, I don’t know. I am not in any pain.”

Grandma shook her head and said, “I think 2 bags is more than enough right now. We don’t want him to pop, do we? So, just let him up and we will leave him to his business.”

Both Mom and Grandma left the room and boy did I have a super bowel movement. As for Mom, she didn’t come back in to check on me like she did before. So I went into the kitchen where she was and hugged her neck. She patted me on the butt and told me that she now had to get supper cooked for the family and for me to run on. I did.

CONVINCING MOM TO GIVE ME ANOTHER

Several days went by and Mom still had not taken the enema bag down from the wall. I just knew that it was hanging there for a reason. At least I hoped so. I was again beginning to feel a little sluggish and I knew I needed to get Mom’s attention. So, I went into the kitchen where Mom was and told her that I was again having problems going to the bathroom. Mom brushed me off. So, I went to Mam-maw, and told her that I was having problems again going to the bathroom and I had asked Mom to give me another enema and that she just ignored me. I don’t know exactly if I wanted Grandma to do it or not but I do remember asking her to talk with Mom about it.

Days went by, and still I heard nothing. Not even a whisper and the bag just continued to hang where it hung when I emptied it the last time. I was becoming desperate. Friday night came and neither Mom or Grandma said anything. It took me forever to go to sleep. But to my ignorance, things were a changing. The next morning, bright and early, I was awoken by Mom. She told me to come on and I followed her into the back bathroom where I looked up and to my thrill, I noticed that the bag was still there and that it wasn’t empty anymore. For Mom had filled the bag again. This time I was embarrassed, I left the room and hid behind a door in my room. Mom called out, “Mike, if you want me to give you this enema, then come on, I don’t have all day.”

I stayed put. Then Mom called, “If you don’t come now I am going to take this enema down and I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

Realizing that that was my last chance, I came out and entered the bathroom. Mom told me to take off my underwear because she had other things to do that day. I did and Mom administered the enema to me without even closing a door.

After the enema ended, Mom had me sit onto a slop jar that she had brought into the bathroom earlier. I had no trouble filling it.

Within minutes Mom had once again appeared. She walked over to the jar, looked in and then went over to the wall and took down the bag. She soon began to fill it a second time. I knew then that that day was really going to be special. It was. After I had expelled my second enema, I went and got Mom again. She walked with me back to the bathroom saying all the while, “Children and their enemas, I just don’t understand them.” Her tone sounded angry. but was she? I wondered, what had I done wrong? I don’t guess anything, for she took down the bag a third time and administered yet another enema to my waiting behind, filling it not once but twice in the process. That’s right, she gave me three full bags of water without letting me up.

I truly thought that I had died and gone to heaven.

EPILOGUE

Guess what Mom gave me for my birthday a couple of weeks later? That’s right, you guessed it, an enema, but guess what she used? A brand new open top, red, Tyson fountain syringe that Grandma had bought me for my birthday at Walgreens. Guess how many bags I took this time? Also, guess where I had Mom store it? That’s close, but no cigar, I kept it hanging besides the washing machine in my bathroom. At least that is where it was when it wasn’t in use. You get my point?