The Shitty Four Day Weekend

The next stop on their agenda was the mall. Scottie wanted to buy a new outfit to greet her man. Chris played the role of her boyfriend, carrying bags and commenting when she would come out of the fitting room. Honestly, everything she tried on looked great so there wasn't much else he could say other than, "I like it." At the shoe store, there was male sales clerk, a white guy, and Chris could immediately tell that he was attracted to Scottie by the way he was staring at her starry eyed and imperceptibly caressing her leg and foot when he was helping her with her shoes. Chris might not be able to compete with Andre but he was going to make sure he put this guy in his place. As she roamed the store looking for different shoes Chris started making small talk, not so subtly implying that they were a couple in a very long term, committed loving relationship. Once a pair of shoes were selected, Chris took them up to the counter and whipped out his credit card and paid for them.

Scottie was amused. As they walked out of the store she said, "You do realize that you just paid for a pair of shoes I'm going to wear for my man in an attempt to impress a total stranger you'll never see again, right?" When she put it like that, it sort of took the air out of his sail. "That ego of yours is going to get you in trouble," she chuckled and they made their way to the car.

They had a few more stops to make. Their first stop was a medical supply store. Scottie moved around the store, asking the sales girl all sorts of questions about portable commodes, testing them out by sitting on them. The young lady was an attractive light skinned Black woman with a thick southern accent and she had a lot of body stuffed into a poly cotton polo shirt with the medical supply company embroidered on the chest and a pair of royal blue polyester pants. She offered a suggestion, trying to be as discrete as possible, that if cooking oil spray was used in the bucket that the contents could be flushed away and cleanup would be minimal. Scottie thanked her for the advice and boldly stated that the bucket wouldn't be necessary and selected a model that could fold up and made her way to the counter to purchase it. She commented to Chris that she thought it was pretty remarkable that she had never owned a rim chair in all her years of domination and the sales girl giggled uncontrollably. She looked at Chris, winked, smiled, and didn't take her eyes off of him. He turned red from embarrassment.

As embarrassing as that was, he was even more embarrassed when they were at their last stop for the day, the drugstore. Scottie again breezed through the aisles and asked the young man who was working there for assistance with laxatives, fiber, suppositories, enemas and products for incontinence. Chris stood in silence, frozen with shame, holding the hand basket that she loaded with far too many products than could possibly be used in the next two days. She kept using the word shit and the sales guy cringed every time she did. "Will this make him shit more? How long after he takes this will he shit? What will be the consistency of his shit if he takes these? So, all I do is put these in his asshole, it will make him shit, right?" The young man wasn't as helpful as the previous sales person. Finally, he said, "Lady, I don't know. I just work here." Chris was mortified. He noticed, however, that the young man didn't walk away, he just stood there, watching them. He did more than watch, he was staring at Chris' crotch. There was a very visible wet spot on his jeans and the outline of his throbbing cock could easily be seen. Just as Scottie was bending over and looking at something on the bottom shelf, intentionally showing off her assets, Chris noticed the clerk was rubbing his own boner.

Satisfied she had accomplished her mission, after having put essentially one of every product in the aisle in the basket, she thanked the young man and said, "Come my precious pet, we have places to go, people to see." They walked to the register together and she said, "I'll meet you in the car," and this time Chris was not so proud to pay for the purchases. The cashier was a white woman, mid-30s, plain-looking, and as she took out the first few items she noticed the theme so to speak and she turned red. She intentionally didn't make eye contact with Chris and handed him the three bags full of things and said, "Thank you and be well." It was all he could do to the take the bags to hide his obvious erection. Never in his life had he felt like such a puppet, manipulated and controlled by his own deviant desires.

Back at the hotel Scottie made Chris unpack all their purchases. The maid had cleaned the room and put everything back the way it was supposed to be so he moved the coffee table back out of the way and set up the rim chair on another clean, plastic tarp. It wasn't very difficult, all the pieces fit together without the requirement of any tools. As he was finishing up removing all the packaging from all the drug store purchases and putting them on display on the coffee table, Scottie suggested that they head down to the hotel gym for a light workout before a late lunch.

Chris threw on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and Scottie changed in the bathroom and came out, mimicking the commercial on TV. In her best valley girl voice she said, "I'm sort of in love with this splatter print because it's sooooo cuuuuute." Chris shook his head and smiled.

The workout room in the hotel was pretty standard. They had two treadmills, an elliptical machine, some free weights, a universal machine, and some yoga mats. It was empty and they had the whole room to themselves. Scottie turned on the TV to PBS and there was a wildly liberal political news show on that made him roll his eyes and want to puke. While she did cardio on the elliptical, Chris used the free weights to try to impress her. She was not. After about twenty minutes, and after having worked up a decent sheen, not quite a full sweat, she got down on the yoga mats. She was quite the impressive and flexible subject, creating a striking study in downward facing dog.

"I'm not always great at these sorts of things but I can try. Come here, pig." He ran to her side like an eager puppy. With her ass in the air, she let out some gas. It wasn't a silent but deadly and it wasn't a rip-roaring fart, it was somewhere in between. Chris moaned. "What are you standing there for," she asked, "get down here and smell my ass."

Chris dropped to his knees. He put his face in the general vicinity of her ass. She directed him to put his face in her ass and he complied. He put his nose against the black and white Lycra fabric of her stretchy pants and inhaled her fart odor. He pushed his face as far as he could into her ass cleavage and rubbed his face up and down. He would have given every single worldly possession he owned to pull those pants down and lick her asshole right there, in front of the hotel security cameras. She let out another fart and before he even knew what he was doing, he had his hand down his shorts and he was stroking his cock.

With a vantage point that allowed her to look between her legs, she said, "Slow your roll, there cowboy, you might not want to get us both arrested," and she got up and said, "Come on, let's get a bite to eat to hold us over until dinner. They walked to the park and found a gourmet food truck and ordered the absolute best burrito he had ever tasted in his life. Chris was captivated. Every bite Scottie took was erotic to him. Food was the center of their experience, it was the source of her shit and spending time with her, watching her, being manipulated by her, he was more aroused, more turned on than he could have imagined possible. Electricity was flowing through his body constantly.

Back at the hotel, he showered and changed relatively quickly. Scottie took her time. It seemed like she was in the shower FOREVER while he watched TV. She glared at him when she came out and saw the Fox News logo on the corner of the screen and he quickly changed it to HBO to a rerun of Game of Thrones. She held out her hand and took the remote from him and put on the Food Network. She sat on the edge of the bed and applied lotion to every square inch of her body. Chris offered to help her and she politely declined.

She stood to apply lotion to the backs of her thighs and her ass. Bending over, she pulled the cheeks of her ass wide open and let Chris get an obstructed view of her tight sphincter. Without permission he moved to the end of the bed and sat quietly so he could get a better view. She didn't object and she let him stare at her butthole to his heart's content. She changed her mind and asked for his assistance with putting lotion on her back and his hands trembled with excitement. He massaged her shoulders and arms and caressed her tenderly. She hummed a tune as he rubbed the scented lotion into her skin and thanked him.

"Would you be a dear and find some porn on the pay-per-view please? Something anal would be preferable," as she got the bags from their morning shopping spree and starting removing price tags. Chris pulled up the menu on the TV. He wanted, no needed some interracial action and didn't even ask if it was okay. There was a "Best of" anal interracial movie available and he clicked through all the necessary affirmations until it played. It was really just a soundtrack in the background for him as the real live flesh and blood woman in front of him was far more arousing than the porn.

She turned the volume up and Chris was afraid it could be heard by the guests in the next room. Dressed in a pair of white lace panties and a matching lace bra, she stopped to watch the action on the television for a while. Chris studied her. Her breathing was getting labored.

"Take out your cock. No, take off your clothes." Chris couldn't wait to comply and he undressed and stood there nude. She grabbed lube from the nightstand and grabbed his stiff penis and poured it on liberally. "Now, stroke your cock for me."

For the next hour, Chris stroked his cock for her while they watched white girls getting pounded in the ass by Black men with obscenely large dicks. She barely said a word the entire time other than soft moaning. She watched him. She would softly caress her thighs or the tops of her tits that overflowed from her bra, but she never touched her pussy, she never masturbated herself. It was an exercise in sexual sadism.

Chris moaned and stroked and he would get to the edge and stop. He knew he was supposed to stop. He fingered his asshole and stroked his dripping cock. He didn't say anything, he just kept masturbating to please her. All he wanted to do was please her. Finally, she got up and walked over to him and said, "OK, sweet boy, let's get ready for dinner." He could smell the scent of her arousal. She bent over and took her hand and lifted his face to hers and kissed him softly on his lips, sweetly, innocently, it was over in a second. Chris had to squeeze his cock so hard that he was sure he was going to cause permanent damage but he refused to cum before he was told again, he was not going to let that happen.

She finished getting dressed in the bathroom and emerged with yet another jaw dropping wardrobe change. All the women Chris dated could be considered cute, or pretty at best. None of them were really head-turners. Scottie was in a different class altogether. She was stunning. She was wearing a white pantsuit that looked relatively conservative from the front but as she turned, it was backless, showing off her toned brown skin that seemed to glow. Her makeup, her accessories, and even the shoes she wore (that he had purchased) looked so put together, so polished; Chris knew she was out of his league.

The hotel had a bar that served food so he freshened up a bit and they made their way downstairs. When the waiter came to take their order Scottie informed him, "My companion won't be eating dinner this evening. At least not from this menu." God damn her! Why did she have to be so fucking brazen? And why was Chris so turned on by it? The waiter seemed to be completely clueless and took her order without raising an eyebrow. Chris sort of felt disappointed. He actually wanted the waiter to suspect that he was going to eat her shit. He wondered how it was possible that she had transformed him from being ashamed of his desires to actually wanting people to know that he was a voracious shit eater in less than 48 hours.

Chris might not have been the most self-aware, introspective person in the world but he knew enough to know that he had fallen in love with Scottie. Over the last few months of talking on the phone, over the last two days of spending time with her, he realized that she had created him in her likeness, into exactly what she had wanted him to become. She had become his religion.

Her food arrived and it looked like she had ordered from the heart healthy portion of the menu. Every sort of fiber possible was on her plate: beans and grains and vegetables adorned her plate in a colorful array of what looked to be deliciously prepared gourmet fare. In his heart, Chris knew that her selection meant that he would be eating her shit again and soon. As she ate Chris wondered how far she would go and how far he would let her. His mind drifted off to her telling him to lower his pants and shit on a plate there in front of everyone and eat it with a fork and a knife. He knew she wouldn't do anything that crazy but the thought aroused him. He was lost in his own ruminations when he was brought back to reality as Andre approached her from behind and kissed her on the neck.

The look on Scottie's face as she turned to see him and almost jumped into his arms was painful to watch for Chris. He knew he would never see that look on her face when she looked at him. They embraced. It wasn't vulgar or tacky, it was the sort of embrace you see on the news when soldiers come home from war to their families. From what he could ascertain they had only been apart a week less but Chris could see the obvious affection they had for one another was genuine. Andre held out his hand and introduced himself to Chris. Chris responded with an extra firm handshake. Scottie was bubbly and suggested that they all head to the room to get more comfortable. Andre insisted that they stay and have some more drinks and get to know one another.

As much as it pained Chris to admit to himself, he could see why Scottie was so in love with Andre. He was intelligent, handsome, charming, articulate, confident, well-dressed, and a really nice guy. Even though Andre knew that he was in control in the situation, even though he knew full well that Chris was envious of him, he wasn't arrogant or an asshole about it; he made every effort to make Chris feel comfortable as they talked about sports and cars and their jobs and they all laughed and drank.

Chris had a hard time wrapping his head around the concept that these two normal-looking people could be so kinky and yet so regular. They weren't like the one-dimensional, big-lipped cartoons of Black people who looked like gorillas with gold chains and exaggerated facial features like so many interracial fetish internet drawings depict. They were totally and completely in control, utterly dominant, and clearly they both had a deviant, sexual streak in them and you would never be able to tell in a million years from the way they looked. In ten million years, he never thought he could meet anyone like Scottie or Andre in real life because his fantasies of Black Dominants weren't based on any sort of reality, they were based on his own distorted biases when he was horny late at night. Chris was even more jealous than before because he knew deep in his heart that Andre would never eat shit, that he would never want to do something so foul and disgusting and that not only made him feel dirty and ashamed but horny as fuck. He felt like a dirty, subhuman shit pig, like that was his place in life, like he was truly, inherently inferior. Alas, it was all a bit much for his brain to process so he just went back to his nasty shit-eating fantasies.

It wasn't long before the alcohol kicked in and Chris started fantasizing about being Andre's white bitch, seducing him, turning him on. He fantasized about spreading his legs and feeling Andre's full weight on him as he penetrated him . . . and kissing him, being kissed by those full, sensual lips. He wanted to wrap his arms and legs around him and hold him close and feel his cum deep inside his white pussy as he satisfied and pleased his man like only a woman could do. He wanted Andre to make love to him. For as much as Chris hated Black men as a general concept, for as much as he lived his public life expressing contempt and disdain for them, he knew that he could fall in love with Andre as much as he had fallen in love with Scottie.

Andre, sensing that everyone was fully tipsy but not quite drunk, said, "I think it's time to take this party upstairs, don't you think?" Everyone agreed and he tossed some money on the table and they all made their way back to the room

In the elevator, Andre grabbed Scottie and pulled her into his arms. His hands found their way from the small of her waist down her backside and he gripped her full round ass. Chris couldn't take his eyes off the connection. He wanted to know what it felt like to touch her like that. He wanted to be swept up in Andre's arms like that. As the doors to the elevator opened, Andre said, "After you, Chris," and held the door for him so that they could both watch that full, round ass walk down the hall unimpeded. He whispered, "She's sexy, right," as he exited and Chris could do nothing but agree?

Once in the room, Andre made himself comfortable and flopped on the bed and reached for the remote and started flipping channels. "So babe, what sort of nasty shit games have you guys been up to?"

Scottie didn't stutter or hesitate. She gave him a full recap of all their activities. Chris couldn't imagine how their relationship had evolved, how they had both revealed that they enjoyed dominating white men who eat their shit to one another. Chris couldn't imagine being that truthful with another human being. Chris couldn't even be that honest with himself. Sure, he'd thought about being fed from a Black man before, hundreds of times before. He'd fantasized about it more times than he could remember but he'd never worked up the nerve to ever follow through with it. He was committed to saying that he only wanted the shit of Black women, that was his narrative, that was the lie that he had come to believe in his own mind when he was chatting online late at night with women who teased him with promises of using his tongue to lick their dirty buttholes after they shit. The thought of eating a Black man's shit in front of a Black woman, showing her that he loved shit and that he wasn't going to puke or pretend that he didn't like it was inspiring him to be a ravenous shit pig. He was going to show her he liked chewing shit and swallowing shit and that it all turned him on. He wanted to be their white toilet.

What is it they say? Ask, and it shall be given. Well, Chris didn't really ask, it was more like he was telepathically projecting that he wanted to get down and dirty and Andre heard his call. "Chris? Do you drink piss as well as eat shit?" Chris moaned and nodded. Piss wasn't really his thing but he knew it was a part of being a toilet. Cocks were definitely his thing and the thought of having a big black one in his mouth was making him feel desperate.

Andre got up and walked over and stood in the middle of the plastic tarp. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his semi-hard dick. Scottie asked, "Do you want some poppers, piggie?" Chris didn't know what to say. He did. He loved the feeling they gave him but he was ashamed to say yes so he didn't say anything, he just looked at her and waited for her to make the choice for him. She dug the brown bottle out of her bag and offered it to him and he inhaled deeply several times. The high hit him immediately and it was strong. Not only was he willing to drink piss he wanted to be a urinal. He ditched all his clothing and got down on his knees and opened his mouth in front of Andre. He reached out for his cock and Andre slapped him away. It was a stinging blow to the side of his face and Chris loved it. He said, "I'm sorry, sir,"