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What Mark Did Next

A continuation of “The Next Big Thing”

I had met Emily after posting my profile on a dating site. She got in touch and we met. I had recently left a boring marriage and was looking for adventure. We met for coffee and compared notes about our experiences and interests. I was prepared for a bit of a pissing contest but I wasn’t prepared for what Emily had done and wanted to do. I didn’t know if I was that adventurous.

I was kind of shocked and surprised to discover that she was into scat. But she made it sound enticing and we discussed various scenarios, and I was simultaneously revulsed, curious and interested. We left things pretty much open and made no definite arrangements, but she made it clear that I should get in touch in the near future if I wanted to proceed. I vacillated terribly, I fantasised about it while I masturbated, but a fantasy isn’t necessarily something that you could do in real life.

Eventually it dawned on me. I needed to know whether this was something that I could do and possibly enjoy. After all, you only live once. I decided that I should call Emily and let her work out the logistics. She had more experience and ideas about this than I did. The phone rang three times;

“Mark!” she exclaimed, “I was hoping to hear from you. I assume that you decided to play?”

“Yes,” I stammered “but I’m going to need some help and advice, wanting to and being able to are two very different things.”

We arranged to meet for dinner at a local French restaurant the following evening. I had managed to secure a booth so that our conversation would be private. I also decided to take a taxi so I could drink a little bit more in the hope of relaxing. I arrived a minute or so, Emily arrived ten minutes later, by which time I had finished my first aperitif and was well into my second. We did the French kiss on the cheek thing and sat down.

We perused the menu and made our selections for our first and main courses, and agreed to decide on desert later. We had both chosen red meat so I suggested an expensive Margaux and Emily said that it was a good choice. Emily looked at me;

“Well, you chose the wine, perhaps I should choose the scenario?” She said.

“I guess you have more experience than I do – so what do you have in mind?” I asked.

“Myself and a select group of four ladies” she began “we talked about that. I want witnesses and I want recordings.”

Before I could say anything, the waiter appeared with our first course and the wine. I sampled the wine and pronounced it to be excellent and it was left to breathe while we ate.

“What else do you want?” I asked nervously.

“No gags, no blindfolds, no bondage – in short your complete and willing submission” she answered, “Mine will be the only scat that you will be obliged to eat – you will get sex and you will be allowed to orgasm. My plan is to get you a state of readiness by degrees, my intention is to have the big scenario in about six weeks from now and to use the intervening period to acclimatise you .”

I busied myself with my food while I thought about this, the aperitifs and wine were having some effect. I swallowed the last morsel of my first course and asked.

“When would you like to begin?” thinking that I would have a few days grace to get into the right frame of mind.

“How about after dinner?” she smile raising her eyebrows slightly.

I realised that I had to say yes.

I ate my meal slowly, savouring every mouthful and after we finished our desserts and I paid the bill, Emily made it clear that we were going to her place and that she would drive me there. Her car was a classic, a Jaguar XJS V12 from the early 80s and the ride was much smoother than I expected.

She parked in a car port and the electric gates closed behind us. Her house was an older detached, double fronted building. I guessed that it had four bedrooms and dated back to the 50s. The leaded lights by the entrance seemed to confirm my view, but as we entered, I realised that the place had been thoroughly renovated,

“Impressive place,” I said.

“Thanks, it’s been a work in progress for some years now. Let me show you the downstairs bathroom,” she grinned.

She opened a door which revealed a sizeable bathroom. It had a large sunken spa bath, a shower area that had no shower screens or curtains. The tiled floor sloped into a central drain. There was a futon like mattress and pillows encased in waterproof Ankara escort material and a tap and hose in the shower area.

“Let’s put our clothes and shoes in this cupboard,” she said as she wriggled out of her dress.

I followed suit and we both stood there, naked. My penis started to twitch to attention. Emily was very well proportioned and her nipples both sported rings. I have no idea why but nipple piercings have always pushed a lot of my buttons. The twitching stopped being intermittent and became constant.

“So, you’re thinking about it then,” Emily smiled.

She moved closer to me and as her face approached mine, she reached behind my head and pulled me towards her, before kissing me. We kissed for about five minute our tongues mingling passionately. The she stopped and pushed me away.

“Ok, I wanted to kiss you so you would have the memory of what it felt like. However, from this point on, kissing is off limits. For what I want to do, kindness is not an option and hence neither is kissing. I intend to use you, in ways that you might enjoy but I am never going to kiss you after you have had my shit in your mouth.” she said looking at me in a very affirmative way.

I felt a twinge of regret, but I had come this far and I thought that I should stay.

“OK, I can understand that,” I said “how shall we proceed?”

She gestured to the mattress,

“Lie there,” she stated simply, “face up, and mouth open.”

I did as I was told. She lay alongside me and fondled my penis to a state of hardness I hadn’t known since my teenage years. Then she instructed me to masturbate slowly but under no circumstances was I allowed to come. I complied. Then she lowered her cunt over my mouth and told me to lick her clitoris and insert my tongue every so often to make sure that everything was lubricated. As I did this, she reached down and pinched my nipples. My mind was saying “I don’t know about this” but my penis was saying “Oh, this is interesting.”

After a little while, Emily shifted her position and straddled me. Then slowly she started to raise and lower herself. I managed to keep a lid on everything for a while but then began to hold myself very tense. Emily sensed this, stopped moving and carefully lifted her self off my cock. She then placed herself over my mouth.

“You are allowed to touch yourself, but you are not allowed to close your mouth” she said.

And with that she started to release a stream of warm piss into my mouth. I nearly choked a couple of times but managed to swallow it all. I didn’t really taste it, it was simply a question of “chugging” as I had done with beer in my youth.

“Now lick off the drops,” she demanded, “you did rather well.”

I did as I was asked, this time I got more the taste, but it was mingled with her cunt juices and was not at all unpleasant. My penis was still standing to attention.

“So, what’s next?” I asked.

“You don’t want me to spoil the surprise, do you?” she replied with a wicked grin.

I shook my head, as much in disbelief about what I was doing, as it was a reply.

“Timing is everything” Emily said “and men will do almost anything to be allowed to orgasm. Combining orgasm with an act that many might disgusting is a way to get past that psychological hurdle.”

She lowered herself onto my penis and squeezed tightly using her pelvic muscles. Then she gave me a finger to lick before reaching behind and carefully inserting it into her rear passage. She then raised herself up and down rhythmically until my eyes started to glaze. She stopped moving suddenly and looked into my eyes.

“OK, smell first, now open, and lick my finger clean,” she grinned.

I did as I was instructed. The taste was not as bad as I had expected, a sort of burned coffee favour. The smell was more unpleasant than the taste but that diminished very quickly. It is hard to describe my mental state at that time. I was more aroused than I had been in years and I felt some pride in overcoming my natural reluctance in doing something which was so perverted. I think that Emily must have orgasmed about then. She was using her free hand to finger herself. I moved to begin thrusting but Emily shook her head.

“Oh no, we are not done yet.” she said

Emily walked over to the sink and pulled open a drawer. She had her back to me but when she turned around, I could see that she had a butt plug and some lube in her hands. Escort Ankara I noticed that the butt plug had dimples, like those of a golf ball but larger and deeper. She lowered herself onto my cock once more and inserted the butt plug and I could feel the pressure on my penis as it entered her rectum.

I showed a lot of restraint, but eventually I began to tense up again and Emily ceased her gyrations. We both kept very still until the moment had passed and then she reached around and withdrew the butt plug. It was then that realised what purpose the dimples served, while the stainless steel body was shiny, almost every dimple was not at all shiny. Emily’s shit was the reason for that and most of the dimples were full of it.

She positioned the butt plug in her left hand and then began fingering herself with her right. I was on the verge of orgasm and she could sense that.

“Open up” she said.

When I did, she thrust the butt plug into my mouth and told me to lick it clean.

“Now you are allowed to come” she said.

I looked into her eyes and surrendered to my natural urges, the butt plug on my tongue was purely incidental. Emily must have orgasmed too, her thrusting had ceased and she was gasping.

“Oh fuck!” she cried, “That was just amazing.”

We disentangled ourselves. I went over to the sink and washed my hands, face and dick before rinsing with water and finally mouthwash. Somehow the taste seemed to linger.

“So how do you feel about what we just did?” she asked.

“I’m still processing everything,” I answered “But I think that I am glad that we did it.”

We got dressed and Emily made coffee. It seemed odd being so civilised after what we had just done. I spoke first.

“So what’s next?” I asked.

“You come back in a day or two and I stretch your limits a little more.” She replied. “How about this coming weekend?”

“Why not?” I agreed.

“I’ll need you to make something” she said showing me a sketch.

I looked carefully. It showed a box with a toilet seat and a hole designed to accommodate a head. There was a loop each side, intended to hold someone’s arms alongside their head but on the outside of the box. Inside the box had two short boards which would prevent anyone from moving their head and each side of the box had a transparent panel allowing viewing from all sides.

“We’ve made a lot of progress,” said Emily, “So now we need to move on. You have only dealt with small quantities of shit and that has been of a medium consistency. You will need to handle different kinds of shit and larger quantities. I think that this box would help.”

I decided that I could make the box, but thought that I could make it more comfortable at least.

“Ok, I will turn up at 6.30pm on Saturday, and I will bring the box… any particular colour?” I said.

“Predominantly red” she answered. And at that we said our goodbyes and I left.

I thought about the day over a glass of red wine and tried to analyse things. How much of a pervert had I become? Could I ever put that genie back in the bottle? And then I remembered the excitement, the mind blowing orgasm and I realised that I wasn’t especially worried. I was taking this journey as far as I could. The following night I made the box.

Emily inspected my handiwork on the Saturday and nodded approvingly. She had me carry it to the bathroom, strip off and then lay on my back with my head inside the box. I felt something cold on my right wrist and realised that was being handcuffed to the box. The procedure was repeated for the left wrist. Emily stroked my cock slowly and then lowered herself onto it. After few minutes she lifted herself up and raised the lid on the box. She looked down on me.

“I have no idea what you can expect” she said. “I have eaten a lot of fibre but I have also had a laxative. So, what comes out could be reasonably solid or semiliquid. But it is the uncertainty that makes things interesting, isn’t it?”

I looked and had to agree.

“But first, I need to unload a lot of liquid. So open wide be careful not to spill any.”

She sat on the seat and I opened my mouth. I knew that I had to swallow all or nearly all of the flow. There was a lot but it wasn’t especially strong and I managed to chug it all down without gagging.

“Good boy” she said.

She returned to squat on my cock and began thrusting again. After a short time, I was holding myself Escort Bayan rigid, and Emily, sensing this raised herself up. I felt my hot dick cooling slightly but realised that it was on a hair trigger.

“Let’s see what happens now,” Emily said. “I am going to shit in your mouth and if you want to orgasm, you are allowed to do so – provided that my shit is in your mouth and you are chewing and swallowing. So we will start by you rimming me.”

I did as I was told. I applied my togue to her anal orifice with surprising enthusiasm. I was astounded that I actually liked the taste and every so often, I would try to poke my tongue into her slightly puckered hole. I was aware that Emily was fingering herself.

“Oh fuck!” she cried “Here it comes.”

I didn’t know whether she meant her orgasm or her shit, but I soon realised that it was both. I was determined to keep my mouth open no matter what, after all, I had come this far. She started shuddering and gasping and suddenly the shit flew out of her arsehole like a flock of frightened birds. She had not been kidding about the possible texture or quantity. My mouth filled with something that had the texture of soft scoop ice cream with a toxic twist and then it overflowed onto my face. I was just about able to breathe through my nose.

“That was incredible” Emily said “everything that I thought it would be.”

I made a mumbling noise by way of assent.

“Now chew and swallow, she commanded.

I did as instructed. It wasn’t enjoyable but I was aroused I could cope with unpleasantness. She released my hand restraints.

“You can masturbate if you wish, but that was the last time you do anything penetrative with me.” she said. “I can’t bring myself to have sex with a man who eats shit.”

I was somewhat stunned, but I knew I had to do something my throbbing cock and so I masturbated. It took less than a minute and the spurt reached my chin.

“So,” she began, “are you still ok for the big show, now that we know what you are capable of doing?”

I thought for a few moments, I thought about how far I had come and the so called ‘show’ might be a good place to end the journey.

“I guess so,” I answered “But I am a little disappointed not to be having sex with you.”

“Well, maybe one of the ladies will take pity on you after all you do have a nice cock.” she said before asking “What do you know about the training of elite athletes?”

“Not much,” I answered.

“Well, go and get showered, use some strong mouthwash and get dressed. Then we’ll talk.

The shower felt good, Emily had one of those power showers. I scrubbed myself, then cleaned my teeth and gargled with the mouthwash that Emily had so thoughtfully provided. I got dressed and went into the living room.

“Coffee” asked Emily, as though nothing had happened in the last hour.

“Please” I answered.

I took the proffered cup and sat on the arm chair opposite.

“We were going to talk about elite athletes,” I began.

“Oh yes,” she replied. ” Athletes generally like winning but don’t like training. So, they use a visualisation technique. They imagine themselves on the podium over and over, then they imagine themselves doing everything that they need to do in order to win – i.e, training. Then they reduce the time they spend thinking about winning and eventually the winning becomes much less relevant. Eventually the training becomes a reward in itself.”

I gave this some thought. I knew very little about athletes and I was struggling to make the connection and relevance to my situation. I said as much.

“In part that’s what I have been doing with you,” she explained “reducing the sexual component, separating it from me but leaving your pleasure embedded in the perverted act. You can’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy masturbating just now.”

I nodded, I could tell her that because it was not true.

“It happens a lot with fetishists,” she said “eventually the sex becomes less important than the fetish but the enjoyment is still there. Thank about some of the female led relationships where the women keeps her man locked up and insists and having her pleasure while denying him his. So, you are at that tipping point, you still do the perverted thing because it is related to your orgasm. After a while, that will change and the perverted thing will become your reward, your sense of achievement, the thing that makes you special. The downside of that addiction is that you will find yourself needing bigger and bigger doses.”

“I think that I can control that” I answered with as much certainty as I could muster.

“We’ll see,” said Emily, “The big show will be here next Saturday at 7.30, be here at 7.00 you can help to serve drinks and canapés”

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