****** Ariadne - Part 1: How I Came to Sink this Low by poor celain ******
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Ariadne - Part 1: How I Came to Sink this Low


At the moment, my mouth is coated with a thick layer of shit from the enormous
turd Ariadne forced me to eat about an hour ago. My stomach is still churning
from it. I have threads of feces all up between my teeth, and clotted in the
back of my throat. My tongue has several additional layers of shit from
previous feedings that I that have not yet been allowed to get rid of. Mostly
her piss has helped in the last few days, as it washes the shit down my throat
so I can get rid of it. I have also learned to guzzle mouthwash. I have asked
Ariadne to let me brush my teeth after feedings, but she says that won't happen
until our wedding day. After the wedding, she says, constant brushing will be
required since I will be eating shit several times a day, while serving her and
her boyfriends on a regular basis.

I am forced to go around like this, a human toilet, and so I avoid everything
and everybody. And, having learned my lesson about the Internet, I especially
stay offline.

After feeding me shit, Ariadne allows me to wipe my mouth with toilet paper. My
mouth is like an anus, she says, and so I must wipe it. And I am allowed to
wash my face, and even to rinse my mouth with water. Otherwise she says she
likes to know that my mouth is essentially laced with the taste of her shit and
that I should stay that way.

She doesn't mind when I complain. Actually, she likes it when I complain,
because she knows I am not happy. And in the meantime, she just puts another
plate of shit in front of my face and tells me to eat, while she checks to see
if my dick is still hard. Which, unfortunately, it always is.

Being very much in love with Ariadne, I was in the habit of calling her each
night whenever I was out of town at a conference or trade show. Usually we both
would be naked, to talk sweetly to each other across the phone lines. We could
touch ourselves discretely while we talked to each other, and we could imagine
ourselves as if we were physically close, this across the thousand-some-odd
miles that lay between us.

This convention was no different. We talked each evening like usual, until one
night, about mid-way into the schedule, I called her around nine o'clock and,
after letting the phone ring for nearly five minutes, Ariadne finally picked up
the phone.

She was very cold and distant. We hedged the feelings for a bit and then began
to talk about mundane issues. Fairly soon, I knew that something was wrong:
Ariadne wouldn't open up; she wasn't getting "sexy." It took all kinds of
persuading just to get her to say something outside that uncomfortable zone.

"Well," she began, "what can I say? For one thing, I am no longer convinced you
really want me, that you really want to be with me."

"How can you say that?" I replied. "You know how much I love you."

"Perhaps you love me. But that doesn't mean you want me. I have read the files
on your hard drive. Maybe I'm not the right girl for you. Maybe you need a
different type of girl. Or something else altogether."

She was sly and taunting, and clearly angry.

"What are you talking about?" I protested, "What files? We've been together for
three years. We're getting married in a few months. Of course you are the right
girl for me. I know you love me as much as I love you. Why are you saying these
things?"

"That's exactly my point!" She continued. "We've been together for three years
and I don't even know you. I'm not sure that you even want love. As far as I
can tell, all you really want is heavy humiliation. Would you like it if I shit
in your face right through the phone? You are a fucking pervert. You're a God
damned toilet shit eater and I think that you are disgusting."

There was a pause, and then she screamed into the phone, "Eat shit, you fucking
pervert!" She slammed the phone and was gone.

I was stunned. I stood there stark naked in my hotel room, holding the
receiver, listening to the dial tone, which sounded like the death knells of
our relationship. I couldn't believe what Ariadne had said. I could see in the
large mirror how bright red my face was. And, to my great regret, I could see
how shining hard my cock was, and the pre-cum glistening from the head. She was
absolutely correct about my need for humiliation. Sexual humiliation turned me
on.

This was my big dark secret, a secret I had never told her. For some insane
reason, humiliation-and in particular shit humiliation fantasies-makes my dick
hard. On top of that, verbal abuse-and in particular toilet language-makes my
dick even harder.

In my darkest heart, in my sick masturbation fantasies, I am a shit eating
shame freak. And now, somehow, Ariadne knew all about me. Just her yelling at
me, the hard metallic sound of her voice coldly telling me to eat shit was a
total turn on. Her obvious disgust with me forced my cock into the sky, as if
such a crude and lewd remark was tantamount to a sexual come-on. And now I was
left hanging, or sticking out.

I had no idea what to do. I was alone in a distant city. In my mind, I had done
nothing to betray our relationship. It was perhaps unfortunate that my revealed
dark secret had ruined it for Ariadne, ruined us-now that she had found me out.
And now she had hung up on me and was gone. But surely she didn't really know
anything?

What I didn't have a clue on was that Ariadne knew far more than the mere fact
of my dark secret. Ariadne had spent nearly 48 hours surfing to web sites that
I had visited. At some point (as I would later find out) she had found my
hidden files and hacked into them because I was stupid enough to have all of my
passwords in a single encrypted file, which itself happened to have my birth
date as its password. She had read numerous e-mails, chat logs, stories, and
had viewed downloaded pictures from scat sites, and a few digitized movies, as
well. Ariadne knew everything, including that I had "cheated" by having
"scenes" with "dominant women" on the Internet while she was asleep in my bed.

I tried calling her back several times that evening but the phone was
continually off the hook. I spent a fitful night unable to sleep, on one level
worried sick that I would never see her again, and at the same time rather
excited that my secret was out, even somewhat relieved that she knew I had some
"issues." Maybe-just maybe-she would understand and be forgiving and love me
anyway. Perhaps she would forget all this.

The next day of the conference took forever. I couldn't concentrate on the
business at hand. I tried calling her at her office at the lunch break, and
again before dinner. Still I got the busy signal. Around three o'clock, when
the day was finally over, I went to the airport and boarded the plane for home.

As I dragged my bags into the hall, I noticed that the lights were dim
throughout the house. At least she's good with the electricity, I thought to
myself, as I gave the door a quick shove with my boot. I listened to the door
slam securely shut behind me. Soft music was drifting in from the front room. I
could see the flicker of candles, and the inviting fingertips of shadows
playing against the wall. Happy and relieved to at last be home, I removed my
jacket and strode inside.

There, across the room, on the far side of the room, Ariadne lay resplendent
along the couch in darkness, with the light from the candles dancing around the
room, across the ceiling, along the walls, spilled upon the floor. She was
holding a glass of wine, and dressed in something very exotic-exactly what, I
could not quite make out. A vast array of patio windows and doors made of
reflective plate glass displayed the glow of Los Angeles behind her. The
furnace of city lights shimmered in the heat behind her -fireflies tied to a
maelstrom being shattered against a windshield.

Ariadne slowly sucked on her cigarette, pulling the flames deep into her lungs.
I watched in amazement, as the tobacco seemed to light up her eyes from behind,
between breaths. She looked at me from across the room.

"Remove your clothes, wimp." She said. "Take everything off. Now!"

Naturally, I thought nothing of playing along; it was usual to take my clothes
off when I got home. Ariadne always gave me a good fuck on my return from far
countries. Getting naked was part of the tradition, and it made sense.
Apparently, she had forgiven me. She wanted me naked, and so I did as she said.

In a few seconds I was standing there naked and hard, anticipating whatever she
held in store for me. I could feel the cool air on my balls.

"I want you to watch me take a shit!" She said.

Even as my mind reeled with what she had just said, my dick unabashedly rose to
attention while I watched her as she moved swiftly across the room. I saw how
totally exposed she was. In a flash of black leather and pink flesh, I could
see that she was trussed up in a severe body harness, replete with steel
fixtures, and that her body harness pronounced the pertinence of her sex, her
breasts, and her figure itself. It made her more naked than if she had simply
been without clothes. The six-inch heels she was wearing, straight out of some
fetish catalog, pushed her ass up and out, seeming to offer greater access than
is usual for that part of the body. My mind raced with panic. If her leather
outfit was offering me forbidden access to her backside, clearly it wasn't
sexual access. It could only be service access that she was "granting" me. My
cock strained against its own flesh.

She moved into the kitchen area and quickly produced a large white platter from
the shelf above the sink. Standing there, with my erection strutting out and
drooling, I felt so much embarrassment and shame, because my excitement was so
obvious. I was no bride, and I hated being "given away." For I could not
believe that she had actually said what I thought she had said. Nor could I
believe what I was witnessing.

Ariadne returned to the living room and placed the glittering white platter on
the coffee table before her, where she moved it around, ensuring it was in the
right place.

I was frozen in my tracks.

Ariadne stood there, towering above the gleaming white plate. "By your hard-
on," she began, "it appears that I was right about you. I have never seen you
this excited. Tell me, 'Billy', are you the pervert that I think you are?"

I just stood there staring in shock. Perhaps my head nodded in the affirmative,
but I cannot be sure. She had said "Billy" with great sarcasm, like she was
talking to a little boy. This was a terrible moment. I really had no words to
describe my emotions. And then, as if to remove any need for speech on my part,
a thick gob of pre-cum erupted from my dick head and drizzled its way to the
floor, telling her exactly how I felt. I wanted to die.

"Well then," she said, glancing at the pool of cum on the marble tiles at my
feet. "You'll have to lick that up later. Now come over here and sit down on
the floor. Observe carefully. I want you to see every detail. I want you to
watch me shit!"

Reluctantly, I did as she instructed and settled myself on the cold floor in
front of the coffee table. The white platter glowed before me. Ariadne quietly
turned around to let her backside face me. Moving her feet away, spreading her
thighs wide, I was fascinated to see her backside open up as she squatted over
the coffee table, with her asshole distending, her butt cheeks parting like an
opened tomb.

Ariadne looked back over her shoulder to see that I was in position, seated
behind the low table as she squatted over the plate. I could smell the sweaty
fragrance of her ass, and then a darker smell overwhelmed the other, as the
shit began to emerge from her anus.

I was compelled to watch. Ariadne was so lewd, so totally out of control. She
was fascinating. She had never seemed so athletic. But here she stood on her
thighs of iron and her perfect body. The secret of her anus fully revealed to
me in all its pink and brownish glory. All that flesh caged in leather and
ready for anything.

Ariadne began to defecate. The tip of a dark chocolate log appeared from her
beautiful asshole. Then the whole thing moved quickly out, a thick turd, and
very firm. It glistened in the candlelight as it lowered itself onto the
platter, where it stopped for a moment so that one end of it was lodged on the
plate surface, and the other end was still up inside her anus, while she
hesitated to finish. As she paused, I calculated that her turd must have been
at least ten inches long, from beginning to end, and noticed that it appeared
to be about two inches thick. My mind was on fire with this terrible long turd
presenting itself before me. The reality was far more intense than my fantasies
had been.

And then she finished. The rest of it came out and the long turd fell across
the platter, like a strange hors d'oeurvres. Judging by the platter, the final
turd was nearly twelve inches in length. My eyes were fixated on the enormous
turd that lay there before me.

Ariadne moved away gently and then just as suddenly she thrust her ass back
towards me and, reaching around behind with both hands, she spread her buttocks
apart to fully reveal the shitty mess of her anus.

"Lick the shit from my asshole." She spoke sternly. "Your tongue should be good
toilet paper, so lick my anus out. Get all the shit. Quickly, now. Don't waste
my time!"

Mindlessly, I threw myself towards her, my hands gripping the table edges and
my face stretched up smashing into place between her buttocks. Below me, lay
the plate of shit she had just created for me, the awful smell wafting up. The
taste of her shit began to cover my tongue that was now lodged deeply in her
asshole.

I licked away, furiously sucking back the shit in her asshole, licking at it,
and lapping at her anus. The brown mess tasted disgusting, but it was possible
to get it down and to swallow it, and, eventually, I was able to get her
asshole all nice and pink again. This was no fantasy. I had eaten shit-a small
amount of shit, perhaps, but I could declare myself to be a shit eater. I was
now a shit eater.

In my understanding of this fetish, it was important that I should be able to
swallow shit the way one might eat steak. The tiny chunks in her asshole were
relatively easy to get down. Sure, it was repugnant, but I could over-ride
that, and the shit would stay my stomach while the small bits of shit made
their way down my throat.

As the spasms in my stomach and throat finally calmed down, I reluctantly
remembered what was still waiting for me once I was done here. Unless,
possibly, Ariadne didn't really want me to eat the log of shit she had just
laid onto the plate below me.

But the turd had fallen into place. Ariadne pulled away from me, muttering.
"You are lucky I let you get that close to me," she said. "I really only like
it when a man-a real man-touches me." I crouched there, hovering over the table
with the plate of shit below my face.

My lips and tongue were covered in shit. I could taste and smell only shit, and
I no longer had a hard on. She had humiliated me, but only for her own benefit.
I had licked her asshole, and now it was time for me to leave. There was no way
she had meant it, about my eating shit. Then I felt her fist pounding the side
of my head.

"Idiot!" she exclaimed, slamming her fist into my forehead. "Why are you
sitting there daydreaming? You have to eat shit. Why do you think you are here?
Why do you think I just took a shit for you? Eat it. Do it now. You fucking
perverted freak. Eat shit. Eat shit!" Again, I felt her fist crash into my
face.

I struggled to my senses. I tasted blood in my mouth from the impact of her
fists. Looking up, I saw her standing above me, only the table of shit between
us. The twelve-inch turd lay there, almost steaming in the summer heat. With
the tiny nugget of shit that had landed into place at the end, the turd looked
like an enormous exclamation point.

Then I felt my hair being grabbed. Ariadne took my head and forced me into the
shit. My mouth was less than an inch above the turd. The smell was awful. My
hair was gathered into her fist behind me, and she pressed my face forward.

"Kiss it." She said. "I want you to kiss my shit."

I said nothing. What could I say? Then she struck me again on the back of the
head.

"I said kiss it. Kiss my shit."

The turd lay the length of my face like an object of worship. An armless
crucifix, I pressed my lips forward and kissed it quickly.

"There!" I yelled. "I kissed it. I kissed your shit!"

Quietly, all she said was-in a soothing voice no less: "Good. Now lick it. Lick
the length of it. Show me how much you love my shit. Lick my shit! Stick out
your tongue and lick it!" She again pummeled my head with her fist.

She forced my head lower again. Thinking that I had no choice but to go through
this to get it over with, I complied. I stuck my tongue out, and began to lick
the turd. It was then that I realized that she had come back around and behind
me. I kept running my tongue up and down along the thick turd. The taste was
wretched, but I had no choice.

"That's right," she said. "It tastes good, doesn't it? Shit eaters like shit.
Don't they? Don't you? That's right, you fucking toilet. You like shit. Keep
licking the shit. You will always eat shit. You will always lick it and love it
first. And then you will eat it."

I luridly licked away at the turd, running my tongue slowly from one end to the
other, doing the full twelve inches, hoping she would let me go. My cock was
hard as a rock, and she kept groping me there, whispering, "Look how hard you
get, you piece of shit. You shit lover. Shit turns you on, doesn't it?"

Then she released my head. I was thrown back and collapsed. My lips and tongue
were covered with a thick film of her shit. Looking over, I could see the turd
quiver like brown Jell-O.

"Look at it," she said. "Look at the turd. That is what you will be eating for
the rest of your life."

Suddenly, the sound of silverware rattled around my head. Ariadne had dumped
about five services on the table. Groping into the pile of silver, she removed
a large spoon and held it in front of my face.

"Take it," she said. "I will have it engraved later, but for now just take it.
Scoop yourself some good shit. Eat it and swallow it. Chew it. Eat shit, and
lick the spoon clean afterwards!"

Ariadne held the spoon in front of my face. I reached up and took the spoon in
hand, and lowered it to the plate of shit before me.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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