The Shitty Four Day Weekend

As his plane touched down at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport, Chris Jones had a huge knot in his stomach. It wasn't nerves, however, that had his stomach doing flips. Well, not entirely nerves. The knot in his stomach was literal. For three days, Chris hadn't taken a shit. He wasn't constipated, well, not in the traditional sense of the word. He'd been given a directive to take Imodium for three days, a medicine typically used by people with diarrhea to help solidify "things" so that he would be prepared for a special weekend of fetish play. He was wearing a moderately sized butt plug as well to sort of keep everything where it should be and prevent any untimely accidents. He was also backed-up, so to speak, because he had been in chastity for two full weeks and not allowed to cum.

All the erotic forces in the Universe were aligned, working together to keep him buzzing with anticipation and arousal. Every step he took, every jostle of turbulence from the plane was a source of stimulation, causing the black butt plug in his ass to rub on his prostate and keep his cock leaking. His ass was full of poop pushing its way to come out and having all that shit impeded by a blockage that was stretching his slutty fuckhole heightened every sensation. His balls were obscenely full of cum and add to the mix his musings about what would happen when he finally met the Domme of his dreams, it was the perfect recipe for making him hornier than he'd been in a very long time, maybe ever.

What sort of kinky sex play requires its participants to have full bowels, you might ask? Well, the kind that can only satisfy the cravings of a true shit pig. Chris was just that sort of animal. He loved shit. It was his greatest source of sexual arousal. With two days off and two days' vacation, he was pretty sure he was going to be in for a nasty treat or two, three if he was really lucky. He was meeting with Scottie Lowe, and she had promised to put him through his shitty paces. She'd stated emphatically that nothing involving shit was off the table. He didn't know what exactly what that meant but he was pretty sure it was going to be intense, and really fucking depraved.

The intense heat of Georgia ain't nothing to fuck with and as soon as he stepped out of the airport, a wave of humidity and sweltering heat hit him like nothing he had ever experienced before. He was drenched in sweat in seconds. If it was this hot at 10 o'clock in the morning, he thought, he didn't even want to think about what it would feel like at 3 in the afternoon. Nonetheless, he'd sent her a text the second the plane touched down as he'd been instructed to do and the reply was that she was going to have a driver pick him up and bring him to the hotel where they were meeting. She'd texted the room number and told him to come directly to the room.

There, at the curb, in plain sight for everyone to see, was a driver dressed in black slacks and a white dress shirt with a skinny, black tie straight from the eighties and a sign that said "Asswipe" in big, bold, brown lettering. Chris glanced nervously around to see who else might have seen the sign and, much to his dismay and embarrassment, everyone seemed to be staring at who was going to respond to the sign, parents shielded their children's eyes in disgust, and everyone seemed to be whispering and pointing. He froze, feeling the pangs of humiliation and took a deep breath. "Ha, ha, ha," he said nervously, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear, "My brother always calls me . . . he's so funny . . . I'm in town for his wedding. Aww man, it's really hot here."

The driver's blond hair looked wet and it was hard to tell if it was from product or from the insufferable heat that was causing him to sweat. He held the back door to the town car open and everyone seemed to go on about their business, not caring about the sign or Chris just that quickly. "Mistress informs me that she will be needing my services for the next four days. I'm to take you to the hotel now and be on standby for later this evening. Will you require anything that you will need me to pick up for you?"

Chris mumbled that he would be fine and he sank back into the cushioned leather seat and enjoyed the air conditioning. The drive was only about 15 minutes. He had hoped it would take a bit longer as his nerves were making him want to head back to the airport and go back to the safety of upstate NY where he could wallow in his depravity alone. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and he knew it so as they pulled up to the front of the luxury hotel, he swallowed hard, grabbed his bag, and headed to the 14th floor suite as he had been directed.

He knocked softly. Within seconds, the door opened and there she stood. Chris' heart melted. He was in the presence of the woman he had spent so much time talking to on the phone, fantasizing about, the woman who knew his deepest, darkest secrets better than anyone on earth. She was all that he had hoped for and more. She was absolutely lovely. Her cocoa brown skin glowed and her short, curly hair framed her face and her smile was slightly intoxicating. "Hi, I'm Chris," he began to say but he was interrupted.

"I know, silly," she said as she held the door open wider and invited him in. "Hurry, I have to take a shit and I can't hold it a second more."

Never in his life had Chris expected the very first words out of Scottie's mouth, with her sweet, seductive voice, to say what she did in the first five seconds of their meeting. He wondered if he was up for whatever was in store for him and he crossed the threshold of the room and pushed his bag to the side of the doorway as it slammed behind him. Dressed in a sporty grey knit graphic t-shirt and matching mini skirt, she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the living room section of the room where a thick plastic sheet had been laid on the floor in anticipation of his arrival.

Quickly, he laid down on the floor and before he knew what was happening, Scottie lifted the back of her mini skirt, placed her feet on either side of his torso, and squatted down with her ass inches from his face. Everything was happening too fast. He had been in her presence for 30 seconds, probably less than that, and she was already taking a dump on him. Before he could even ask a question to find out what he was supposed to do, she took a deep breath, made a small, dainty grunt, and her asshole opened up and a torrential wave of shit came pouring out.

Chris opened his mouth and watched as feces came out of her asshole like a soft serve ice cream machine. The stench of her poop was toxic, like something had crawled inside her and died. That turned Chris on even more than he could have possibly imagined. The crackling sound of her shit slowed down and some light brown, soft shit clung desperately to her asshole.

"Wow, that felt amazing. I've been doing this juice detox and taking these herbal pills . . . something-something intestinal formula. I can't remember the exact name right this second but I can tell you that the results have been phenomenal to say the least. It's really cleaning me out." She was light-hearted and casual in her conversation, as if she was discussing the weather, not the fact that she had just done the most intimate, personal, private thing in the world not only in front of someone she barely knew but on him, on his face. In his wide open mouth in fact. "Oh damn, it stinks. Yecchh! You stay right there. I need to go get cleaned up."

An Olympic gymnast couldn't have made a more perfect dismount as she swung her leg over him and stood up and made her way to the bathroom. "Oh, and precious boy, don't eat any, okay? Don't you dare even chew! Stay exactly like that until I come back." And just like that, she closed the bathroom door and left him lying there with shit all over his face, overflowing out of his mouth onto his cheeks, fully dressed, and his butt plug creating all sorts of erotic sensations in his ass. He had taken off his chastity device before he left home to make it through the metal detectors at the airport so that allowed his cock to be engorged with blood and he was rock hard and ready to explode. Chris was positive he had never experienced anything so humiliating in his entire life. A woman he had just met in person had just shit on him and left him with his face covered in an obnoxious-smelling pile of turds, all within the first three minutes of their meeting.

Her shit was literally making his mouth water. Saliva had formed in his mouth and he tried to swallow it but he couldn't without swallowing any shit so he willed himself to remain as still as possible. If only his cock wasn't seconds away from shooting. He squeezed it through his jeans to try to keep it under control but he had no such luck. He heard the water of the shower running and he panicked knowing that he wasn't allowed to eat the shit that he so desperately wanted to consume and not having a clue how long he would have to remain frozen in that position. The fact that Scottie had definitively treated him like nothing more than a human toilet, the realization of his wildest fantasies come true, was a bit more than he could stand. The humiliation of the entire scene made him start inhaling the noxious fumes of her divine shit and he had no choice. He opened the fly of his jeans and pulled out his cock. He didn't have any lube but he didn't need any either. Precum was pouring from his piss-slit like a fountain.

As soon as he stroked his throbbing cock one time he knew he had made a terrible mistake. The pleasure was indescribable, too intense for words. He had already reached the point of no return and there was no turning back. He was huffing the fumes, and his taste buds were overwhelmed. The image of Scottie's ass, the image of the shit coming out of her puckered hole, was seared forever in his brain, the stench, not to mention the pressure in his own asshole . . . he moaned and stroked and involuntarily started to chew. He savored the priceless delicacy, the shit of a Black woman, like it was the world's most expensive and rare caviar. And in many ways, it was. He had no choice but to swallow it all, every morsel. There was no way he could stop himself and he stroked his cock faster, pounding his meat furiously as he shot loads of cum on his chest and torso and the final few spurts covered his fingers.

Clearing her throat from the bathroom door, Scottie said, "We aren't getting off to a very good start, are we?" She folded her arms across her chest and didn't have to say anything else. Chris felt consumed with shame and regret.

His male ego wouldn't allow him to apologize. "I couldn't control myself. I've been fantasizing about this since I first read your profile on Fetlife," he stated with a considerable amount of shit still caked in his mouth and on his teeth and all over his face.

"Ughhhh, go take a shower and get cleaned up. You smell like a fucking toilet in a bus station. Disgusting!" She was dressed in a fluffy hotel bathrobe this time and she stood in the doorway of the bathroom. She certainly didn't seem irrational or pissed off. Her tone seemed stern but not overly so, it was more like that of a nurturing mother: loving but disappointed.

Chris got up and grabbed his travel case and wheeled it to the bathroom. He had to squeeze past her in the doorway and he didn't dare make eye contact. The door closed behind him and he stood in front of the mirror and looked at the foul mess on his face, the shit impacted between his teeth, coating his tongue. Immediately, he got hard again. He posed like a fashion model in the mirror, sticking out his tongue and admiring at how the shit coated his teeth and gums. He turned on the shower and got undressed. He could have easily jerked off again, his recovery time was like a teenager when it had anything to do with eating a Black woman's shit. His mind was racing, thinking about every single thing that had happened . . . in the last ten minutes.

Emerging from the steam-filled bathroom, Chris smelled vaguely of lavender, or citrus, or whatever those tiny hotel soaps smell like, and the room smelled of some sort of apple cinnamon air freshener. The dirty plastic tarp had been replaced with another, clean one. He didn't dress, he simply wrapped the towel around him so that he could show off the body he worked so diligently at keeping in shape, that he was proud to show off, unsure of what to do next. He tried to push his cock down to hide it but there was no use. He was still horny and there was no way to obscure that fact so he just let his proverbial freak flag fly, at full mast.

The hotel suite certainly wasn't the low budget kind made infamous by people recording their amateur hot wife porn. No, sir. This was the kind that had a small kitchenette with a full fridge, a cooktop and dishwasher, a dining room table for two, a desk, a pull out sleeper sofa, a coffee table that had been pushed out of the way to make space for a play area, a chest of drawers, and a fluffy king-sized bed with a thousand pillows that looked like it was three or four feet off the ground, famed by two contemporary night stands. Chris sat on the sofa in silence. Scottie looked like a vision floating around the room with such ease in her bare feet and bathrobe. For a second, Chris thought that this might all be a dream, that this couldn't possibly be real, but it was. She asked him about his flight and made small talk while she tinkered around in the kitchen. At least he thought it was small talk, he really couldn't be sure because he was so god damn horny and distracted she could have been telling him that she had discovered the cure for cancer while searching for the meaning of life and he wouldn't have heard a word. All he could think about was the three days' worth of shit he was barely holding in that was desperate to come out and when he might be able to eat more of that delicious shit of hers. At least in his mind, it registered as delicious.

"Here, take these," she said as she handed him some brown-colored capsules. He hesitated. He wanted to object and at the very least ask what they were but he opted to keep his mouth shut because he knew he was going to get some form of punishment for disobeying her previous instructions. He took the bottle of water she handed him and swallowed the pills without a word.

"Christopher!" He was snapped out of his daze when she called his full name as she often would do on their late night phone calls. "I can't have a conversation with myself. You have to say something." On the phone it was different. He was in the comfort of his own home, he was in familiar surroundings, he was safe. Here, with her, he was intimidated by her physical presence and the ease with which she had orchestrated everything that had happened thus far. To Chris, it really did seem as if he was trying to have a conversation with Beyonce, about eating her shit of all things.

Sitting on the sofa next to him, she pulled her leg up underneath her and turned her body towards him. He could clearly see her exposed pussy and he wanted to fall to his knees and start licking it but he knew he would never be allowed such an honor. Moving his eyes upwards, he could see the outline of her breasts as the robe gaped open in the front. She knew exactly what she was doing by teasing him and yet she conversed with him as if it were nothing. In a short time, Chris was able to calm his nerves and talk freely, like they had done so many times late at night on the phone. They spoke as if they were friends. She was just as down to earth as she had always been and Chris marveled at how comfortable she was in her role as a shit Domme and how she didn't seem conflicted or tormented by her affinity for shit play at all.

After a couple of hours of free-flowing and effortless conversation that seemed more like mere minutes to Chris, Scottie declared, "I'm hungry. How about some lunch?" She got up and moved to the bed and unzipped her bag and pulled out a little black dress. She undid her robe and let it fall to the floor as Chris audibly gasped in awe. She stepped into the dress and slid it up her fine, brown frame and said, "Would you be a dear?" She turned, indicating that she needed assistance with the zipper in the back. With no bra, and more importantly, no panties, she signaled for Chris to finish helping her get dressed. She pulled out a pair of sexy black high heeled shoes and slid them on and she looked like she was ready to walk a red carpet in record time.

Chris stood and his towel honestly accidentally fell. His cock stuck straight out in front of him and he hesitated for a second as to whether he should cover his nakedness or not. He opted not to. It felt more perverted to be fully nude and hard in front of her. His hands trembled as he slowly zipped her dress and his cock was millimeters from her round, full ass. She did a sexy little twirl and asked how she looked and all he could do was give a thumbs up.

The thought of eating didn't sound very appealing to Chris as he was still carrying the enormous load of shit that had been in his guts for three full days. It hurt and turned him on at the same time. Scottie, as if reading his mind, moved behind him and gently pushed on his shoulders so that he ended up with his face on the bed and his ass sticking out. She inspected his butt plug, nudging it, pulling on slightly, pushing it in deeper causing it to displace the ton of shit in his colon that was desperate for escape. Chris moaned. She was toying with him and it was such a fucking turn on for him. She cautioned him to be careful and she slowly pulled out the butt plug, causing him to moan and want to jerk his cock again as he did his level best to keep from taking a dump all over her expensive shoes. While the fattest part of the plug was relatively clean, the head was covered in shit. "Hmmm, look what we have here," she cooed as she waved it in front of his face. His first instinct was to lick and suck it but he knew better. She reached in her bag and tossed him an adult diaper and told him to hurry and get dressed as she was starving and wanted something to eat.

They rode the elevator to the ground floor and just as he stepped out into the lobby, his stomach started gurgling loudly. LOUDLY! Scottie giggled. "Oh, it sounds like the intestinal cleanse pills are working on you already," and she linked her arm in his like they were a couple and they braved the stifling heat. Chris hesitated; he wasn't used to seeing interracial couples in real life. Of course he had seen them on TV and maybe tens of thousands of interracial couplings in porn, but in real life he only saw a mixed race couple once every blue moon and even then, 10 times out of 10, when he did see an interracial couple it was a Black man with a white woman, at least in his neck of the woods. He felt like everyone was staring at them, judging him, but this time no one noticed or cared.

They walked a short distance to a restaurant that was on the grounds of The Botanical Gardens. There was a wall of glass in the restaurant that faced the florae and vegetation and the view was breathtaking, in every conceivable way. Chris ordered a salad and picked at it. Scottie ordered a salad as well, AND blackened salmon, and a loaded baked potato, and the vegetable medley, and she ate every bite of her tiramisu for dessert. Every mouthful she took Chris fantasized about what it would taste like after her digestive system had recycled it.

When she had finished her meal, Chris signaled for the check and as he stood up, he was hit with crippling, debilitating gas pains and a need to vacate his bowels immediately. "I have to go to the bathroom. NOW!" He was quiet so the other patrons at the restaurant couldn't hear him but he needed to convey a sense of urgency to make sure she understood that he only had seconds, not minutes before he made a complete mess.