****** Annette's Second Coming Out - Part II by buttdebra ******
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Annette's Second Coming Out - Part II


It was now over an hour since the park closed, but the lesbian lovers, seated
on the bench just ahead of Annette's parked car, were making out quite
intensely. Just as their passion rose, so did Annette's, as she reminisced
about her introduction to toiletsex by her college professor and lover, Beth.
She had pulled in to the park to "psych" herself out of the second thoughts she
was having about going to the lesbian club that night, wearing for the first
time the colored hankies that indicated her perverse preferences to anyone
familiar with the code. And, as the now visibly moist stain in the crotch of
her skin tight jeans indicated, she had just about succeeded.

But no sooner than she began to reach for the ignition key, she began to feel
nervous again. She knew in her mind that she must give in to her desires,
suppressed now for five years. But in her heart, it was as if her heart needed
to be heeled one more time from the pain of her parting with Beth.

And so her mind returned to the sequence of events, what she now knew was her
indoctrination into dom/sub games and toilet servitude. She, the college
student, young girl, blonde, 34 a-cup beauty with brains and a drop dead ass,
and her lover become mistress, the thirty-five year old, shorter and rounder,
olive skinned, equally attractive Beth, had come to a dramatic turning point in
their relationship. Beth knew it full well, of course, for she had planned it,
while her younger submissive lover only sensed it vaguely. Beth had introduced
her to fem/fem sex, to the lesbian lifestyle, and to the nasty pleasures of
drinking piss and being pissed on. The older woman had encouraged her obsession
with piss-drinking, nourished it, and had found her pet a new preoccupation,
intense analingus. But the spontaneity of the relationship felt missing to
Annette. She knew something was different, but didn't know quite what. With her
graduation from college now only a couple months away, she felt insecure,
wondering what form, if any, her love affair with Professor Beth Stern would
take once she was no longer a student.

Then, one day in mid-March, she began to put her finger on her insecurity. She
went to Beth's office for lunch, as planned, about 1pm, but found her there not
alone, but very friendly and chatty with another student, a beautiful red-
haired girl. Annette guessed correctly she was a freshman, a younger girl who
didn't care to hide her attraction to the professor.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Annette, I completely forgot about our lunch date and I
scheduled this meeting with Trisha. She's my best freshman student, just like
you were three years ago."

Instantly, Annette remembered an identical occurrence, déjà vu, three years
before, except that time she was in Trisha's seat as a hot senior came in to
meet with professor.

"Don't worry about it," Annette said nervously. "I'll catch up with you this
evening," she said as she turned and left the office. "Not even the fucking
decency of an introduction," she thought to herself, just like three years ago.

Now, as she thought honestly about her history with Beth, she wondered whether
anything had ever been spontaneous with her. In retrospect, her progression
from clothed kissing and making out to semi-clothed petting to nude sleepovers
with cunnilingus and toys-and, more recently, her seemingly "accidental"
introduction to piss drinking and analingus and fart-licking-it now seemed
quite planned to her. Slowly but surely and assertively, Beth had been
manipulating her according to a timetable, she was now convinced. And she had
acquiesced naively the entire way.

But she felt so confused. At the same time she wanted to denounce Beth, she
also feared losing her. The fact was that she had enjoyed her three years with
her, all of it, the most recent months of perversion most of all. She didn't
know whether to hate her mentor or pronounce her love for her more than ever.
She felt used...but she liked it.

Fearing that the young Trisha was about to take her place, Annette was most
surprised that same evening when she got to Beth's house and saw the older
woman was dressed in a leather costume she'd never seen.

"I keep this outfit hidden until the time is right," Beth announced and Annette
walked into her living room.

"My God," Annette thought to herself, "how deep inside my head is she? She
realizes that I figured out her plan, her manipulation of me, and she's not
hiding it anymore."

And the outfit was so hot: A cupless, black leather "bra" that allowed her tits
full view, coupled with black leather underwear, which she didn't know even
existed until then, and what appeared to be a leash and chain.

"I like it," Annette said, closing the apartment door quickly.

"I think you mean 'love it', don't you, bitch?"

Annette was shocked and not entirely excited by her ill treatment. But as she
looked at her lover, her mentor...her mistress...she became more and more
aroused. "It's just a game," she thought, "just play along."

"Yes, mistress, I did mean to say 'I love it','"

"Good. We're going to play a game," Beth said, and Annette felt violated again,
as the woman was using the very same phrase just momentarily before in her
head. "For the next two months, I'm going to wear this underwear everyday. They
will not be cleaned; in fact, I myself will not bathe. You will keep me clean,
like a cat, with your tongue, and you will enjoy it. You will crave it, just as
you've come to crave the taste of my hot piss and the smell and flavor or my
hot ass."

Clearly, there was no subtle manipulation left, though the timetable remained.
If she intended to be with Beth until graduation and beyond, these were the
terms.

In her mind, Annette didn't feel excited, but the building moisture between her
legs told a different story. And so, every day, just as Mistress Beth had said,
Annette would meet her on the couch at the end of the work day and begin
cleaning her lover with her tongue. She would begin removing the bra, licking
the sweaty creases where Beth's large breasts met her skin.

"Amazing how much sweat builds up with that leather," Annette thought.

Given her recent experiences with piss and analingus, Annette was not entirely
surprised that Beth had been right, she was enjoying the salty flavor of the
sweat, especially the armpit sweat, Annette's next cleaning spot. The smell of
Beth's sweaty pits (she had stopped using any deodorant) would occupy her for a
few minutes of sniffing, then she'd begin licking them clean. Then came the
real treat, as Annette was coming to think of it, removing the stinky, sweaty,
hot leather panties from her mistress. Annette loved the musky, natural smell
of pussy, and Beth knew it, opening her legs and scooting forward on the couch
while the younger woman sniffed and inhaled. Annette would lick the stinky
creases of skin, where abdomen met thighs, then lick and suck on Beth's pussy
lips. Finally, as if on cue, Beth would turn around and put her ass in
Annette's face. She had never thought an ass could look juicy, but day after
day, Beth's did.

"Greasy," she thought, was more accurate.

She'd slowly place her tongue flat across the asscrack, just above Beth's
rosebud, then just as slowly lick up to the end of the crack. Before closing
her mouth to enjoy the flavor of Beth's sweaty "aftershit", she'd think about
the greasy film on her tongue. What would her parents think? Her sister, her
friends from high school? But at that moment she didn't care, because once
again Beth had been right. She did crave it, the smell and taste of cleaning
her mistress.

After a couple of weeks, as the leather underwear started getting pretty rank,
Beth allowed Annette to bathe her in the tub with soap and water, but only
after a thorough tongue bath. "I think my ass is starting to stink at school, I
don't want people talking. Come by at noon everyday to clean me," Beth told
her, and everyday she did. She'd walk in the office, lock the door and whisper
in Beth's ear, "I want to clean you." Now she was performing her favorite deed
twice a day, licking and sucking and slurping the stink from Beth's asscrack.
She wondered if Beth knew she would sometimes cum, not even touching herself,
just from licking the nasty behind. "Probably does, she knows everything about
me."

Occasionally, as she pretty much knew where the game had to be heading,
Annette's mind would wonder off to the thought of tasting Beth's shit. She
honestly wasn't sure if she could do it. One day in mid-April, at her noon butt
cleaning, Beth unusually pulled Annette aside. "I think you should know. I
pooped about an hour ago and I think I missed a wipe," she said, then smiled,
kissed Annette on the intently on the lips and playfully quick on the nose.
Annette fell to her knees, pulled down the leather underwear and spread open
the cheeks. "What's the fuss," she thought, as it looked normal. But when she
got closer, she could see this wasn't her everyday buttlicking. Up one side of
the cheek, just above the asshole, was a definite brown streak, a brown body,
as it were. She touched it with her finger and knew it was for sure poop. She
sniffed it and liked it, a little stronger but the same aroma she'd come to
crave. Then, she closed her eyes and licked the stain away from Beth's ass. At
first, she didn't like it, but as she began licking the rest of the crack,
spreading the bit of shit around and mixing with her saliva, she actually began
to enjoy it. Which was good for her, as for the next three days, it seemed,
Beth kept on missing that one wipe. Turned out she was able to taste the shit
after all, she thought to herself.

Feeling quite satisfied now that she had pleased her mistress and the
relationship would go on, Annette was surprised when, at two in the afternoon,
just two days before graduation, she received a message on her beeper: PISS,
HOME, NOW. It had been at least three or four months since she got a piss
message. Feeling very strange and quite aroused, she arrived at Beth's
apartment just a few minutes later, where she found the older woman not in
leather, but in her normal panties and bra. "I'm so proud of you," she said,
kissing her approvingly.

"Come with me," she said, and Beth followed her to the bedroom, where both
women stripped. Beth then led her by the hand to the bathroom, where she
instructed Annette to kneel in front of the toilet while she sat on it.

"Come here and drink me, pretty girl."

Annette smilingly obliged, sticking her chin well beneath the edge of the
toilet seat. She opened her mouth and positioned her tongue in the line of soon
to come spray. Just as she wondered to herself, "How many gallons of her piss
have I swallowed?" she began to smell something. Just as the piss began
shooting into her open mouth, the smell grew stronger as a large turd plopped
into the bowl. Annette swallowed a mouthful of pee, then another, growing more
and more excited by the odor. Then, without a word, Beth got up, turned around,
and sat on the toilet backward. She leaned herself toward the wall, jutting her
dirty asshole in Annette's face. The younger woman's heart was pounding,
smelling the intoxicating aroma.

"There's no going back now," she thought to herself. A mass of medium brown
shit was gathered around Beth's asshole, maybe a couple tablespoons, if one
measured. Annette caressed Beth's lovely ass as she scooped up some of it with
her tongue. She swirled it around a bit in her mouth, started to gag, but held
back the reflex. She spread the shit around her mouth, on her teeth, on the
walls of her mouth, and went back for a bigger tongue scoop. She let it rest in
her mouth for maybe thirty seconds, mouth closed, until she felt the gag reflex
was defeated, all the while watching Beth watch her in the mirror on the door.
She stuck out her tongue and showed Beth the blob of shit on it, which met with
the older woman's approval. She then began to ease some of it down her throat,
an act that increased her pleasure. The closest thing she could remember in her
mouth was pudding, though this was much thicker and much, much stronger. As she
scooped the rest of the shit out of Beth's ass, she realized she was enjoying
this and for a flash of a second began thinking about all the girls back in
high school she felt secretly attracted to and pictured herself eating their
shit too. The sudden sexiness of the thought mixed with the mouthful of shit
she was now tasting and swallowing and Annette came, again without touching
herself. After a moment's recovery, she resumed what was left of the butt-
cleaning and sat back, quite pleased with herself.

"There's more in the bowl," Beth said sternly. Annette could not believe how
angry she now felt, angrier than she had ever felt towards Beth, as angry as
she could remember ever feeling. Sure, the two lovers had had arguments over
the years, but always respectful. This, Annette felt, was a contemptuous tone.

"I'm okay, thanks, maybe you should try some," she suggested, at which Beth
seemed to turn into some other creature. She picked up the turd, through it at
Beth and said, "I'm not the fucking sewer slut, you are, you shit-eating cunt,
you toilet whore."

Annette began crying profusely. She grabbed a towel, wiped away the physical
evidence of her deed, and hurriedly left.

Two days later she was graduated. She tried to call Beth that morning to no
avail. The older woman had serious psychological problems, Annette knew, and it
was not right to leave without addressing them. Over the next five years, Beth
had no choice, in absorbing the damaging experience, but to reflect on just how
deep those problems were. As she walked forward to receive her diploma, she
noticed Beth in the audience seated next to a smiling Trisha. She just shook
her head, as she remembered she too had joined Professor Stern at commencement
three years prior.

But one can't live in the past, that much she knew, just as she knew, seated in
her car in the park as the clock on the dashboard hit eleven, that she could
never have complete sexual fulfillment while repressing significant desires.
She looked ahead and the lesbian couple on the bench was now gone. She looked
at herself in the mirror and smiled knowingly that she was sexy and ready. Key
in the ignition and off to the dykebar.


More to come...

b_debra@yahoo.com

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