****** Entertaining Dean by loopy ******
===============================================================================

Entertaining Dean


Although this story has been written to stand on its own, it is actually the
sequel to a previous story I wrote, called "Johnny's Boi". It should be noted
that where "Johnny's Boi" is a true story, this sequel is a fantasy based on
real life characters.


If I didn't know better, I would swear to God that Johnny could read my mind.
Any time I have sex with him, if there is one thing he could do at a given
moment that would be PERFECT for me, he always manages to do it. He's almost
ruined sex with anyone else for me, because anyone I've been with since I met
Johnny pales so drastically in comparison.

I've been meeting with Johnny for sex for about six months now, ever since we
met in a chat room and discovered that we are perfect opposites for each other.
Johnny is a 25-year-old dominant top, who had little experience with the wilder
side of sex until he met me. I'm 29, and before meeting Johnny, any experience
I'd had with non-vanilla sex was in the role of top, myself - even though I
know that my true place in life is as a bottom, submitting to the demands of a
man like Johnny. That's why meeting him has been so liberating for me. I trust
him - which means that I can completely lose my inhibitions when we are
together. Unfortunately for me, Johnny isn't interested in being more than my
sex buddy and friend. If I had my choice, I could easily devote myself to
servicing him for life.

The very first time we met, Johnny pissed in my mouth - a new experience for
both of us. It was incredible. Johnny's big turn-on is power - and pissing on
me allowed him to feel such incredible power over me. My big thing is
humiliation - and kneeling before him as he pissed in my face felt so perfect
for me. After that first encounter, we knew that stumbling upon each other in
the chat room had been an incredible stroke of luck for us both.

As far back as I can remember, I have always fantasized about having a man shit
on me - or in my mouth. I guess it's the ultimate in humiliation - what could
possibly be more humiliating than that? I have spoken to many men into raunch
on the internet, and I've discovered that I'm different from many of them. Many
of the bottoms I've talked with who are into shit-play truly want to be shit
on, or to eat shit. It's the shit itself that gives them pleasure - I'm not
sure why, but it does. This is absolutely not true for me. Humiliation is what
pleases me - another man's shit is simply a tool to get me to feel that
incredible sense of humiliation. That's why, in my fantasies, another man
shitting on me feels so incredible. In reality, however, it's a different
story. Johnny once sat on my face when his hole wasn't clean, and it gave me a
"taste" of what scat play is like. On the one hand, knowing that he knew full
well that he was making me clean his shit was the most humiliating sexual
experience I've ever had - and it was incredible. Smelling his hole, as sick as
it was, brought me a great deal of pleasure. But when he had me lick it clean -
that's when it was hard for me. The feel on my tongue, the absolutely foul
taste, and the thought of what I was doing - how unhealthy it was - made me
feel slightly panicked. If it wasn't for the fact that it was Johnny's ass I
was cleaning - the man who I am hopelessly infatuated with - I'm not sure I
could have completed the act. But knowing I was licking shit to please Johnny
allowed me to push myself past the feelings of disgust at the act I was
performing.

And the weird thing is, in hindsight, the situation was incredible. Once
removed from the reality of tasting Johnny's shit, the realization of what I'd
done provided me with incredible fantasy material. I'd been his toilet paper!
Few things could be more degrading. As sick and revolting as the experience had
been on one level, there were times when I truly wished that he would show up
at my apartment for sex with his hole just as dirty as it had been on that one
occasion. It's amazing how powerful fantasy can be - completely overpowering
reality.

But one thing I like a great deal about Johnny - he's completely unpredictable.
Sex with him is never the same experience twice, so I guess it's no big
surprise that he shared his dirty ass with me on just that one occasion. For
all the times we've had sex together, he's only pissed on me three times. It
would appear that he doesn't want our encounters to become routine - and that's
part of what makes having sex with him incredible every time we're together. At
times, he's had me beg, and crawl before him with my face on the floor. He's
had me worship at his feet - I've kissed and licked them, and I've sucked his
dirty white socks after he's worn them for vigorous workouts at the gym. He's
had me use my tongue to clean out the cock cheese from his foreskin on several
occasions. This has been a particularly disgusting act, but I've done it
because I know how much it turns him on, and I would do anything to know that
I've pleased Johnny. One time, I wore a dog collar and leash as I sucked him -
and he would yank the leash, pulling me away from his body, not allowing me
access to his cock until I begged and struggled to get to it. Each time we're
together, he manages to find some creative way of making the encounter
incredible. Of course, any time we're together, I can count on sucking him and
rimming his hole - he knows how much I love to have him sit on my face. And
there is always plenty of verbal abuse - another big turn-on for both of us.

As much as sex with Johnny is incredible, I equally appreciate having him as my
friend. When we're not having sex with each other, Johnny is very sweet with me
- treating me with complete respect. We still speak regularly in the chat room
where we first met, and as a rule, our conversations have little to do with sex
- we simply communicate as friends.

Johnny is still quite closeted as a gay man, and one day in the chat room, he
announced to me with considerable pleasure that he had come out to one of his
friends at work - to a guy named Dean, a short but extremely muscular
Polynesian guy who Johnny works out with on a regular basis at their weight
room at work. Johnny was so excited, because Dean had responded fairly
positively to the fact that Johnny is gay, despite the fact that Johnny had
told me previously that Dean comes across as a real tough guy. Johnny had
implied to me before that he really admires Dean - because he's so muscular and
has a take-no-shit attitude.

The following weekend, late on Saturday night, I went into the chat room for a
few moments before heading for bed, and was pleasantly surprised to see that
Johnny was also in the room.

"I'm so drunk", he announced. "I'm over at Dean's house right now".

"You're at Dean's house?" I asked, amazed, "Chatting in the gay chat room?".

"Yeah", Johnny said. "Dean is right here with me. He's drunk too. He wants to
chat with you for a second".

"Ok", I said, feeling a bit uncomfortable. I was pretty certain Johnny would
never tell Dean about the kinds of things we do together - Dean was unlikely to
want to know the details of Johnny's sex life anyway.

"Hi, is this Dean?" I asked.

"Fuck you", Dean said.

Then Johnny returned to chatting with me. "Don't worry about Dean", he said,
"He doesn't mean it. He's just drunk".

"Sure, no problem", I said, thinking that Dean probably did truly mean it, but
seeing no point in making an issue out of the matter. I suspected that Dean
truly did have a problem with homosexuality, and that although he likes and
respects Johnny, he probably doesn't have much of an interest in being
introduced to Johnny's gay friends. Johnny and I spoke for a few more minutes,
before he announced that he was too tired to chat, and too drunk to drive, so
he would be spending the night at Dean's place. I was jealous of Dean - even
though I know that he is totally straight. I was pretty sure that Johnny had a
crush on Dean, and I longed so much to be the one that Johnny wanted to be
with.

The following Friday evening, Johnny called me to say that Dean wanted to meet
me.

"Are you sure?" I asked, still convinced that Dean was completely homophobic.

"Yeah, of course I am", Johnny said. "Can we come to your place at 9:30?"

"Uh, yeah...sure", I said, hesitating. Why did they want to come to my place,
as opposed to meeting for a drink somewhere? The only time Johnny comes
directly to my apartment is when we are just meeting up for sex.

"Um, Johnny", I stammered, "Dean is completely straight, right?"

"Don't ask questions!" Johnny said, one of the rare times he has used an
authoritative tone with me outside of a sexual encounter. "We'll be there at 9:
30". And he hung up.

I didn't know what to think. It was obvious that Johnny had an agenda bringing
Dean to my place to meet me, but he had told me enough about Dean in the past
that I was completely convinced that Dean would have no interest whatsoever in
sex involving other guys. I was troubled about it for a while, but then
realized that I could do little about the situation, and decided to just trust
Johnny's judgment.

9:30 arrived and my palms were sweating. It had been a long time since meeting
with Johnny had made me feel nervous, but somehow, tonight felt very strange.
The buzzer of my apartment rang, startling me, and I invited Johnny and Dean
upstairs. They knocked at my door, and I opened it. Johnny was smiling, looking
excited. Dean, who was strikingly handsome, had a slight sneer on his face. It
unnerved me.

I invited them in, closing the door behind them. I held out my hand to shake
Dean's hand, but he did not extend his hand to me. Instead, he hawked and spit
slimy gob directly into my face!

I was in complete shock, and Johnny was laughing hysterically. I felt anger
boil up inside of me as I stared at Dean, and he stared back at me, his eyes
cold and menacing. I wiped his gob from my face with the back of my hand as I
glanced at his arms and chest, noting the hugeness of his muscles. I wanted so
bad to punch him in the face, but knew that doing so would surely mean my death
at his hands.

Johnny, still chuckling, moved to diffuse the situation. "Relax", he said to
me. "Dean is here for some fun. It will be fun for all of us!"

I glared at Dean. Had it been Johnny who had spit in my face, I would have
instantly grown erect in my jeans. But I didn't know Dean, and I wasn't
expecting him to treat me that way, and it was hard to put aside my resentment
of him despite Johnny's words.

His eyes still cold, Dean smiled at me. "Johnny says you're a faggot", he said.
"And Johnny says you like to be humiliated". His smile grew bigger.

I looked back and forth between Johnny and Dean - both with huge smiles on
their faces at my discomfort with the situation. I am so infatuated with
Johnny, that it's almost impossible for me to feel anger towards him, but I did
feel betrayed that he had not asked me before sharing with someone else such
personal information about me.

"Dean is completely straight", Johnny said.

"Completely", Dean repeated, "As in, don't fucking touch my body no matter what
you do. You understand, faggot?"

I nodded.

"I'm here because Johnny says you're his slave, and I didn't believe him. But I
believe him now", Dean smiled again.

"Tell him", Johnny said to me.

I looked at Johnny, and then over to Dean. "I'm Johnny's slave".

"Tell him what you'll do for me", Johnny told me.

I sighed. "Anything". Both men smiled.

"Listen", Johnny said to me, grabbing my face in his hand and turning me
towards him. "Don't let me down tonight! I've told Dean that you'll provide us
with a lot of entertainment. Make sure you don't embarrass me in front of my
friend".

I nodded, and Johnny let go of my face. "Tonight", he continued, "I want you to
do everything Dean says. No matter what he says. Understand?"

I nodded again, and Johnny smiled. It was that cool smile - the one that lets
me know that he really cares about me, but that he knows that he owns me too. I
live to see that smile.

Dean pulled off his jacket, and held it out to me. I took it from him, and hung
it up. Walking past me, he dropped himself onto my couch. Johnny took the spot
next to him. I stood in front of them, waiting to see what was next.

"Get on your knees, faggot!" Dean said. Johnny laughed.

I dropped to my knees in front of them. Dean glanced at Johnny with a huge
smile on his face. I could tell that he was pleased already with how the
evening was going. "How come this faggot does this shit?" Dean asked, and
Johnny shrugged his shoulders.

Dean looked back at me kneeling before him, and slid his grimy sneaker towards
me, saying, "Kiss my foot, faggot!"

I looked into his eyes, this man that Johnny admired. I felt that Dean hated
me, and I resented him so much - both for his arrogance towards me, and because
I was jealous of how much Johnny liked him. It was so hard for me to bow before
him. I shot a quick glance at Johnny, hoping that he would know that I was
obeying Dean only because I knew it was pleasing Johnny. Then I looked back at
Dean, who was glaring at me with an evil smile. I could tell he knew how much I
hated him, and that obeying him was incredibly hard for me. It made me angry
that my obvious discomfort provided Dean with even greater pleasure. His look
was so fucking smug. Finally, I bent my body forward, bowing at his feet,
looking at his foot a few inches before my face. I moved towards it, kissing it
as commanded.

"Good little faggot!" Dean said. "That's a good boy! Now, take off my shoe".

I grabbed at Dean's sneaker, pulling it from his foot. The smell of Dean's foot
odor overpowered me, and I gagged, instantly regretting it as Dean and Johnny
both laughed. Dean pushed his filthy sock into my face, grabbing my nose with
his toes, saying, "Smell, faggot". I breathed in deeply, fighting not to gag
again, disgusted by the wet feel of his sweaty sock.

"Fuck, you were right!" I heard Dean say to Johnny. "This faggot will do
anything! My socks fucking stink like shit!"

Then he said to me, "You like that smell, faggot?"

It took everything in me to simply answer, "Yes". I reminded myself over and
over that I was doing this for Johnny.

"Call me 'Sir'", Dean said, still squishing my nose between his sweaty toes.

"Yes, Sir", I managed, through clenched teeth. Dean laughed.

"Now, pull off my sock. With your teeth".

I obeyed, feeling sick about how dirty Dean's feet were likely to be. There was
scum between his toes, and his big toe nail, which was quite long, had blackish
shit caught under it. Again, I fought to keep from gagging.

"What do you think I want you to do now, faggot?" Dean said, a smile in his
voice.

I hesitated. I so badly did not want to say it. I longed to jump to my feet and
tell Dean to fucking leave my apartment, but there I was, bowing before him,
knowing that I would be cleaning his filthy, raunchy feet with my tongue. It
disgusted me. "Tell me, faggot!"

"You want me to lick your foot, Sir", I said, my voice sounding weak

Dean laughed. "That's right, faggot! Tell me you want to".

He knew it was killing me. It infuriated me, but I fought to hide my feelings
from him. I didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing how I was
struggling. I could tell he knew it, anyway. "I want to lick your foot, Sir".

Dean's voice grew cold. He took a deep breath, and let it out while saying,
"Then beg me".

Feeling completely degraded, I grabbed Dean's ankle in both of my hands, kissed
the top of his foot, and said, "Please, Sir, I beg you - let me lick your
foot".

"You want to lick it clean?"

"Please", I begged.

"Fucking lick it then!" he said, pushing his toes against my lips. Feeling
completely nauseated, I began to lick between his toes, sucking the lint and
dirt onto my tongue, and forcing it down my throat. Wanting to end the torture
as quickly as possible, I lapped furiously. Dean was laughing throughout,
saying, "Keep licking, doggy, keep lapping at those toes!" Once I was finished,
he inspected his foot, apparently pleased at how well I had done.

He had me raise myself from my bowed position before him, remaining on my
knees, and held out his foot before my face. "Now", he said, "Clean underneath
the toe nail on my big toe".

The look of horror on my face made him laugh. I looked at Johnny, who was
beaming - obviously proud of my efforts. I took Dean's foot in my hands, moving
his big toe towards my mouth. Using my bottom teeth, I scraped beneath his toe
nail, the raunchy smell of his scum overpowering my senses. Refusing to gag, I
sucked it into my mouth and forced it down my throat. Dean was smiling broadly.
"Very good, faggot!" he said.

The entire scenario was repeated with his other foot. I thought I would die by
the time we were finished. It was so degrading to obey a man I was growing to
loathe more and more.

When we were finally through, Dean announced, "Johnny, I really want to see the
faggot drink your piss!"

I looked at Johnny in horror. He'd told Dean that I drink his piss? I couldn't
believe it! Johnny gave me kind of a sheepish grin. He could tell that I was
unhappy with his lack of discretion, and I could tell he felt guilty by the
look in his eyes. But it was too late to turn back now - not only had he
obviously shared an incredible amount of personal information about me with
Dean, but he'd given Dean permission to utterly use and humiliate me. Johnny
could hardly take back that permission now - it would make him lose face. It
was clear that it was my pride that would be sacrificed - not Johnny's.

Johnny smiled at Dean. "Ok", he said. "Follow me", and he raised himself from
the couch, walking towards the bathroom. Dean also got up, grabbing me by the
ear and saying, "Come on, faggot. Let's watch you be Johnny's urinal". I
crawled behind him and he dragged me to the bathroom by my ear, chuckling the
entire time.

Johnny was standing with one foot on either edge of my bathtub when I entered
the room. I quickly pulled off my clothes, crawling into the tub and kneeling
before Johnny, who towered over me smiling. Fuck, I find him so hot and
amazing! If it wasn't for the humiliation of having Dean watch what was
unfolding, I would have been in heaven kneeling at Johnny's feet.

Johnny unbuttoned his jeans, allowing his cock to flop out, pointing down at my
face. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a look of complete amazement on
Dean's face, as if he hadn't believed that I would actually allow myself to be
pissed on by another man until that second.

Johnny was concentrating hard, trying to get his piss to begin to flow. He
managed to shoot a quick squirt of piss from his cock, spraying it into my face
as I recoiled in surprise. Dean burst into laughter, shouting, "Holy fuck! That
is so fucking sick!"

After another few seconds, Johnny was able to begin pissing a steady stream
into my face. Dean continued to laugh. "Open your mouth, faggot!" he said
gleefully. "Let's see you drink it!"

As a rule, I love drinking Johnny's piss, but forcing my lips open and taking
it into my mouth while Dean was watching and laughing hysterically at me was
incredibly difficult. I looked up into Johnny's face, once again, hoping that I
could communicate with my eyes that I was only obeying Dean so that Johnny
would be pleased with me. I opened my mouth, and Johnny pointed his cock so his
piss shot into my mouth. Dean was almost beside himself as I drank it down. "I
can't fucking believe it!! He's drinking your piss!! The faggot is actually
drinking it!!" Johnny was beaming with pride, but I felt like I wanted to die
on the spot.

Johnny shot the last few spurts of piss into my face, and the hell was finally
over. He jumped down from the edge of the tub, and Dean high-fived him as they
both laughed. I grabbed the edge of the bathtub to balance myself so I could
stand up. "Not so fucking fast, faggot!" Dean said, his eyes dancing wildly. My
heart sank, as I knew what was coming next. "I have to piss, too!" he
announced, as if it was the proudest moment of his life. I cursed him under my
breath. I had never felt such hatred for another human being in my life.

Dean climbed up onto the edges of my bathtub - one foot on either side -
looking like a conquering hero. Although he was smiling broadly, his contempt
for me still managed to twist the ends of his mouth just enough to allow a
sneer to develop despite the smile. He put his hands on his hips, thrust his
crotch slightly forward, and said, "Ok faggot, reach up and undo my fly!"
Kneeling on the floor of the tub, still wet with Joey's piss, I reached up and
pulled apart the buttons of Dean's fly. I had no pride left in me as I heard
him say, "Now pull out my cock", and I obeyed him without hesitation. I kept
asking myself why I was allowing this to occur, but I knew that I couldn't
embarrass Joey if I ever wanted to service him again - and I would do anything
to service Joey. He's like a god to me.

"Tell me you're my toilet!" Dean's words brought my mind back to the situation
at hand. I sighed, a deep sigh of defeat. "I'm your toilet", I said, my voice
cracking from the dryness in my throat. Dean was beaming.

"Shout it!" he said.

"I'm your toilet!" I shouted.

"Shout that you're my toilet, and beg me to piss on you!"

"I'm your toilet - I beg you to piss on me!" I screamed.

"Again!"

I opened my mouth to shout just as Dean's piss sprayed into my face like water
from a hose, shooting past my lips and directly into my throat. Not expecting
it, I began to cough and choke, and I pounded on my chest with my fist to try
to clear my airway as Dean continued to piss down on my head and through my
hair. He laughed hysterically the entire time, shouting, "That's the way to
treat a faggot!" The smell of his foul piss hung in the air of my small
bathroom, and as I finally managed to stop choking, I noticed that even Joey,
who was standing back several feet, was covering his face with his hand in an
effort to shield himself from the smell. I thought I could detect a note of
concern in Joey's eyes, as if maybe he was wondering if he had forced me to go
too far. But I couldn't tell for sure.

Dean, realizing that I was no longer choking to death, grabbed my hair and
jerked my head up so that his forceful stream of piss was once again splashing
over my face. "Open up and drink!" he yelled at me, and I spread my lips to
swallow down the last of his urine. Squinting his piss out of my eyes, I looked
up at him and saw the complete look of triumph on his face as he spurted the
last of his piss through my parted lips. I swallowed it down in defeat. This
man had completely conquered me, and he knew it, and he knew how much I loathed
it. I could not have felt more shame. Or so I thought.

Dean jumped down from the sides of the bath tub, and Joey, in what I assumed to
be a lame effort to help me out, reached over and turned on the shower,
spraying warm water over me, washing the sting and the smell of piss from my
body. Even over the sound of the shower, I could hear Dean commenting over and
over again about how incredible he was feeling. He was having the best day of
his life - by forcing me to endure my worst.

Joey turned off the water and threw me a towel. I dried myself, fully expecting
that the two men were ready to leave my apartment. I was wrong. "I want him to
lick my ass," Dean was telling Joey. "I want to sit right down on his faggot
face!"

"He likes that", Joey said to Dean, almost as if he was trying to remind me how
much I love to lick ass, hoping to make it easier for me. It didn't work. I had
no desire to have Dean sit on my face. In fact, at that moment, feeling
completely ashamed and defeated, I wouldn't have even wanted Joey's ass on my
face. I just wanted them to leave - so that I could be alone. But that clearly
was not going to occur.

Dean looked at me at sneered. "You like that, do you, faggot?" I could tell
that Dean understood full well that I would not be enjoying having his ass on
my face. I realized in that second that when I'm having sex with Joey, it's
like he can tell exactly what is going to turn me on. With Dean, it was like he
could tell exactly what would degrade me and make me feel completely destroyed.
Being with Joey is like being with a god. But being forced to service Dean was
like the opposite - like serving a demon.

Dean began to slip off his jeans as he ordered me to lie on my back on the
floor. Knowing I had no choice, I obeyed. Dean placed his feet on either side
of my torso, facing my feet, and slowly lowering his ass towards my face. "I
never dreamed I'd do this to another man", he said to Joey, as his ass hovered
a mere two inches over my face. I could smell the residue from his last dump -
he'd obviously not showered since taking it. He was opening and closing the
pucker of his hole, stirring up the foul smell even more, forcing me to breathe
in the scent of his shit. I dreaded the moment he would tell me to touch it
with my tongue. I wondered why he was simply squatting there, just over my
face, rather than commanding me to lick him. I assumed that he was aware that
his asshole was not clean, and he was savoring having me smell it.

Taking me completely off guard, a fart blasted from Dean's asshole, blowing the
stinking warm air directly into my face. The stench swept up my nostrils,
causing me to gag, as Dean's body shook with laughter. Even Joey found it
funny, much to my displeasure, and I coughed and tried to squint the sting of
the fart from my eyes as the two of them continued laughing. Dean sat his
entire weight down on my face, squishing my nose against his asshole, and
forced a second equally foul fart directly up my nose. The smell was so sick
and overpowering that I though I might die, and I began to struggle beneath his
weight, screaming out, "No! No! No!" trying to push him off me. This only made
them laugh more, and Dean squeezed his muscular ass cheeks over my face,
forcing me to remain in my submissive position beneath him. I was completely
overcome by humiliation, feeling almost as if I didn't know how I would face
the world again. How could I ever look Joey in the face again, and just spend
time with him as my friend, knowing he had witnessed my complete degradation at
Dean's hands?

Dean shifted his weight slightly, moving so that his asshole was directly over
my mouth. "Lick me, faggot!" he commanded. Praying that the hell would soon be
over, I began to lick at Dean's hole, tasting and cleaning whatever he'd
managed to miss when he'd last wiped his ass. "Stick it in further, faggot!
Clean me up good!" I forced my tongue up his hole just as he forced out another
warm fart. I continued to lick, trying to forget how inhuman I felt.

Suddenly Dean grew very quiet, and as I forced my tongue up his chute, I could
feel that there was something there. Holy fuck - it was like all the life
drained from me. My mind was spinning, and inside my head I could hear my voice
screaming, "No! No way! I will NEVER do that!" but my body stayed limp, and I
felt incapable of uttering a sound. Dean was planning to shit on me - into my
mouth. And as this realization hit me, I felt paralyzed for a moment, unable to
respond at all. I was in shock!

I felt his shit pushing downwards, forcing my tongue from his hole, and
beginning, only slightly, to poke out of his asshole at my lips. I could hear
Joey's voice say, "What's happening?" He sounded concerned - like he knew what
was occurring, but didn't want to believe that things had moved so far. Still
feeling paralyzed, his voice sounded like an echo somewhere in my brain. I
could feel Dean's body shake as he began to laugh again, pushing his turd very
slowly from his hole - perhaps not able to believe my lack of struggle.

"No", I heard Joey say, "You can't..."

"Shut up, Joey!" I heard Dean shout, and Joey, who was standing just next to
us, took a step back - apparently startled by Dean's forceful attitude towards
him. Dean continued shouting at him, "I'm shitting in this faggot's mouth
whether you like it or not! Don't try to fucking ruin my fun!"

Maybe it was the realization that Joey was finally on my side, but at that
exact second, I snapped out of the paralyzing trance I was in, and with Dean's
turd trying to force itself past my lips, I mustered my strength and forced my
hands against Dean's ass, pushing desperately against him. Feeling like it was
my last hope, I shouted out, "Help me, Joey!" as Dean laughed like a madman,
fighting my efforts to remove his ass from my face. I could hear Joey almost
pleading, saying, "Dean! It's too much! You can't do that to him..."

Dean was clearly ignoring Joey, and seemed almost energized by my struggle - as
if it only made the game more fun for him. The sound of his laughter continued
to echo off the walls of the bathroom, as he forced shit from his hole,
smearing it all over my face as I struggled beneath him. There was yelling and
laughing, and it sounded like a million voices were screaming directly into my
ears as the struggle continued. I thought Joey might be trying to push Dean off
of me, but I couldn't be sure. The smell of shit overpowered me as I felt it
caked over my face, and I tried desperately to mash my lips together to keep
any from entering my mouth. I tasted it on my tongue despite my best efforts,
and all of the struggle drained from me once again as I realized that Dean had
won. My face was absolutely covered in his shit, and as I gave up the fight, I
began to heave and gag, unable to stomach the stench of his waste on my face
and up my nostrils. Recognizing his triumph, Dean jumped up from my face, shit
smeared all over his ass, and began jumping around the room with his arms
raised in victory, as if he'd just conquered the world. He was laughing madly,
shouting, "Holy shit! What a fucking RUSH!!" My stomach heaved again, and no
longer able to resist the urge to get sick, I turned my head and puked on the
floor beside me. This only seemed to heighten Dean's sense of sheer joy, as he
continued to jump around the room like a victorious prizefighter.

Joey left the room, shaking his head as if he could not believe all he had just
witnessed. I continued to lie on the floor as Dean finally calmed himself,
panting wildly at the energy he had spent. He crawled over the edge of my
bathtub, and began to shower as I lay there. He whistled a tune as the water
sprayed on his body, and every once in a while, he laughed out loud, apparently
replaying the scene we'd just been through over in his mind. Each time he
laughed, I clenched my teeth.

Finished with his shower, Dean stepped over my body as he dried himself. He
tossed his towel down on me and it landed over my face, stirring up the smell
of his shit once again, mingling it with the stench of my puke, and trapping it
all underneath the wet towel. I made no effort to remove it, preferring to have
my face hidden from his beaming smile.

Dean continued to whistle as he dressed himself beside me. He left the
bathroom, and I could hear him speaking with Joey in my living room, but I
couldn't hear what they were saying. I didn't care. I just wanted them to leave
- so I could crawl out from under my towel in privacy. I needed to be alone.

Joey didn't come back to the bathroom. I assumed he was too ashamed of what
he'd put me through. I could hear the two of them leave - the sound of the door
slamming behind them echoed in my head.

I lay there, underneath my towel, now oblivious to the stench trapped beneath
it, going over the entire episode in my head. Everything that had happened to
me - everything that Dean had forced me to do - it was all stuff I had
fantasized about before. I had hated it - every second had felt like torture.
And yet - it was the stuff of my dreams. I laid there overwhelmed and confused
by my emotions. How could fantasy and reality be at such incredible odds? The
fantasy of being treated in the exact way Dean had treated me was so amazing -
so fulfilling. And yet, I'd hated every moment I was with him.

I reached down and began stroking my cock. I breathed deeply, smelling the
incredible stench of Dean's shit. I focused on that smell. I jerked wildly with
my left hand, moving my right hand up towards my face. I pulled the towel from
my face, and fingered Dean's shit around my lips. "He made me become his
toilet", I thought, my cock pulsing wildly. I took my fingers, smearing them
over my lips, and pushing them into my mouth. I heard the sound of Dean's voice
shouting in my head, "Eat my shit, faggot!"

And then I came - the most explosive orgasm I have ever had in my life.

Written by loopy - email encouraged: loop_fruit@hotmail.com