****** Strange Days at the Clinic by loopy ******
===============================================================================

Strange Days at the Clinic


Jay and I met a few years back when I began working at the health clinic for
people infected with HIV. Jay had started working there before me as a drug
researcher, and although he was a typical redneck, by the time I was hired on
as a social worker a couple of years later, he had been exposed to so many gay
clients that he had managed to become relatively comfortable with
homosexuality.

Despite that, it took quite some time for Jay and I to develop a friendship. At
first, he presented as fairly cold towards me, and I wasn't terribly
comfortable with him either. Everyone at the clinic knew that I was gay, not
because it was obvious - because I'm a very masculine man - but because I
freely told people. For most of the staff, this was no issue at all, but I was
pretty sure it was the reason Jay didn't go out of his way to spend any more
time with me than he needed to. I figured that despite the comfort he had
gained being exposed to gay clients, he still wasn't sufficiently comfortable
with homosexuality to allow others to see that he would voluntarily spend time
with a self-identified gay man.

For my part, I found Jay slightly intimidating. He had a certain gruffness
about him, and seemed incredibly confident and even cocky. It was easy to see
why - he was a very good looking, masculine man. He had a great looking body,
obviously shaped by many hours in the gym, and he dressed in a manner to best
show off his goods. Typically, he'd wear tight t-shirts and very snug fitting
jeans. It was his jeans especially that caught my eye - and the eye of many of
the gay patients at the clinic as well. Jay looked perfect in those jeans from
both the front and the back. Up front, it was no secret that he was well hung -
his jeans left nothing to the imagination. And in the rear, his jeans covered
his round ass so perfectly, that I often salivated as I watched him walking
past my office. Other staff at the clinic noticed me drooling at the sight of
Jay's ass, and the longer I worked there, the more my co-workers grew
comfortable harassing me in a friendly way about it. Actually, it was this
friendly harassment that helped create a friendship between Jay and I. As I got
to know all of my co-workers better and they made fun of my tendency to stare
at Jay's ass, they would also harass Jay about how tight his jeans were, and
tell him that it was no wonder that I stared. Jay would get in on the act and
bend over slightly, sticking his ass out and shaking it back and forth, saying
in a playful manner, "I bet you'd like to kiss it," and throwing me a teasing
look. On one level, we both knew full well that I would have done almost
anything to kiss his ass, but we also both knew that he was straight and
completely not interested, and that kissing his ass - or kissing him anywhere
on his body - would remain simply a fantasy for me.

The evolution of the friendship between Jay and I was slow and fairly natural.
I don't remember exactly when we began to socialize outside of the clinic, but
by the time it was occurring, we had developed a mutual respect for each other,
despite the fact that I was gay and that he seemed like such a redneck. We
found that we had a lot of common interests - we liked to attend similar
sporting events, both enjoyed crazy, mindless action movies, and we got into
long debates about politics and current events.

Despite all of that, I know that right from the beginning, we were both keenly
aware of a power imbalance in our relationship. We both knew that I was
incredibly sexually attracted to Jay, and although we both understood that
there was absolutely no chance that he and I would ever be sexual together,
there was always a sexual tension between us. At times, we'd make light of it -
I'd playfully ask him what it would take to convince him to let me suck his
cock. And he'd always reply that he'd allow me to if I accomplished some
impossible feat - like robbing a bank and giving him the money, or climbing
Mount Everest. He'd grab at the bulge in the front of his jeans and say, "Would
you climb Everest for this?" while I stared at him drooling. And then he'd
laugh, knowing full well that I'd climb that fucking mountain if I thought I
could pull it off.

At times, the power imbalance in our relationship was less playful, but still
obvious to both of us. For example, when we'd be at a hockey game or some other
sporting event together, Jay would hand me some money and tell me to "Fetch me
a beer, okay?" There was something almost sexual about his use of the word
"fetch," and about the fact that he was never really asking me to get him the
beer - he was telling me to do it. But I didn't mind - and he knew that as
well. In fact, despite his macho straightness, I think we both found it mildly
erotic that there was an understanding between us that when Jay told me to do
something for him, I would do it. Although he never went so far as to say,
"Drop to your knees and tie my shoe," we were both keenly aware that had he
done so, I would have complied.

I remember distinctly the first day our relationship took a turn. It was my
27th birthday, a Friday evening, and he and I were out drinking together with a
few other people from work. I got up to use the bathroom, and was just flushing
the urinal as Jay entered the bathroom as well. I washed my hands as he stood
in front of the urinal, and as usual, I stole a glance at his ass. We were both
drunk and laughed at my lack of effort to hide the fact that I was staring at
him.

"Come on, Jay," I said to him. "What would it take for you to agree to let me
kiss your ass? Just through your jeans. It's my birthday, after all."

Jay just laughed.

"I'm serious, Jay," I pleaded playfully. "Or how about letting me suck your
cock. You have it pulled out right now anyway."

I fully expected Jay to tell me I could suck him if I accomplished some
impossible task, since that was his typical response, and in a way, I guess he
felt he was doing so when he said, "I'll let you put my cock in your mouth if
you drink the rest of my piss."

Now I have never had any interest in drinking a man's piss, but I was startled
at Jay's offer since it was the first time he'd ever offered me his penis with
a condition that I could actually choose to fulfill.

"Be careful," I told him in a tone that was equal parts playful and serious, "I
could say yes to that and then you'd have to follow through."

Jay took a step back from the urinal and showed me his cock. It was the first
time I'd ever seen it outside of his jeans. My jaw dropped and he laughed. "You
want the rest of this piss?" he said with a gleam in his eye.

I was dumbfounded because I couldn't tell if he was serious or not. I didn't
want to look incredibly stupid, dropping to my knees in front of him at the
urinal, allowing him to know that I would really go so far as to drink his piss
just to get his cock into my mouth, only to have him pull back and laugh at me,
and in the end, not give me what he'd promised.

"You're not serious," I said, trying to look like I was being playful, but
failing miserably. I tried to gauge how drunk Jay was - could the liquor be
affecting his judgement?

"On your knees, fagboy," Jay said with a smile, "do it quick or you won't get
to taste this." He wiggled his cock and a drop of piss flicked into the air,
landing on the floor at my feet.

Still dumbfounded, I said nothing, and Jay turned back to the urinal. "Okay,
forget it," he said, "I'll finish pissing here."

"No!" I shouted, making him laugh as he stepped back again. I knew I seemed
desperate and pathetic, but I dropped to my knees before him and stared at his
beautiful, thick, uncut cock. Then I looked up at his eyes and saw the look of
glee on his face. "No sucking," he said, as he stepped forward. "You can just
hold it in your mouth, okay?" I nodded as I parted my lips. It felt like heaven
to have Jay's soft heavy dick slide over my tongue.

And then his piss started. Jay laughed as he saw me wince at the taste. I knew
he was getting pleasure from the fact that he was giving me what I really
wanted, but making me suffer to get it. His piss was truly rancid, and he had
much more left in his bladder than I'd anticipated. I struggled to choke it all
down, while doing my best to focus on the fact that I finally had his meaty
cock between my lips. Jim laughed on and off the whole time I was there
kneeling before him. I know that my face was twisted in a look of disgust, and
it was obviously giving him intense pleasure. When he was finally finished, he
stepped back and his cock flopped out of my mouth. "Happy birthday," he said
laughing as he pushed his penis back into his jeans.

I remained on my knees for a few seconds, feeling almost dazed. Jay slapped me
lightly on the face a couple of times with his fingers. "Hey, wake up," he
said, laughing. I awkwardly stood to my feet, feeling embarrassed that this man
had just proven to both of us that I was willing to completely degrade myself
to fulfill my lust for him. The power imbalance between us had never been so
pronounced as it was in that moment, and I could feel that he relished it as
much as it made me feel humiliated. I tried to break it's hold on the moment by
looking at Jay and laughing, as if what I'd just done wasn't nearly so
degrading as both of us knew it was. Jay laughed with me, but I could tell he
was simply allowing me to try to save face. It was clear that both of us knew
that he could choose to let me recover from the experience, or he could choose
to make me squirm. I was grateful that he was choosing not to make me squirm,
and yet, in a way, I felt like his decision to do so was only cementing his
power over me - almost like I owed him for his mercy.

We left the bathroom and rejoined our co-workers at the bar. Jay laughed and
pounded me on the back, saying loudly, "This guy needs another drink" - I was
keenly aware of what he meant by 'another drink' - and waving for the
bartender. For the rest of the evening, we acted as we always had, and when the
party broke up, I called a taxi and headed home. I went straight to bed,
falling into a drunken sleep.

The next day, I analysed and re-analysed what had occurred between Jay and I in
the bathroom of the bar. I was worried about how it would affect our
friendship. The power imbalance in our relationship had always provided for
just the slightest of erotic feelings, but now I worried that it might get out
of control. Or maybe our whole relationship would change. Maybe Jay would, upon
sobering up, be upset about having allowed me access to his penis, and would
decide that he no longer wanted to be my friend. Or maybe he'd feel that he
could never respect a man so desperate for his cock that he'd become his human
urinal. The words made me feel sick to my stomach - human urinal. That's what
I'd been for him. He'd had the choice of pissing into the porcelain urinal, but
had turned and pissed down my throat instead. I was angry at myself for having
allowed my lust to dominate me in that way. I determined that I would never
again put myself in such a position.

When Monday rolled around and it was time to return to work, I was tempted to
call in sick. I felt apprehensive about facing Jay - could I even look him in
the eye? But I managed to drag my ass in, albeit almost an hour late. When Jay
first saw me, his eyes beamed and a smile played on his face, but to my
surprise, for the rest of the day, he acted like things were the same as
always. Days passed and I grew comfortable that our adventure in the bathroom
hadn't affected our friendship at all. We even began being playful in the same
manner that we'd always been - Jay joking one day that he'd worn extra-tight
jeans, and asking me if I'd noticed. I carefully avoided the question I had
previously asked him fairly regularly: what I'd need to do to be allowed to
suck him off. In my mind, that question had become off-limits.

It was about two months later that our staff had its annual retreat. The clinic
was closed for the day, and we had met together in Jay's backyard to drink and
just relax together. We'd made it a potluck, and one of the clinic nurses had
brought a big pot of chili. Somehow that led to a conversation about farts, and
as Jay filled up his plate with the chili, he announced to everyone that he was
not responsible for the farting that would occur once he'd finished eating his
plateful, causing laughter all around. We continued to eat and drink all
afternoon, and the laughter and camaraderie grew as the alcohol consumption
increased.

After eating several plates of chili, as promised, Jay began farting. His farts
were incredibly loud, and some of them lasted 6 or 7 seconds. Although we were
outdoors, the smell was disgusting but quickly dissipated in the slight breeze.
The staff members would groan every time Jay farted, and would harass him about
what a "shitty" host he was being. I was sitting right beside him, and at one
point, when the staff members were bugging Jay about his farts, he pointed at
me and said playfully, "I'll bet this guy would risk smelling my farts if I let
him kiss my ass." Everyone laughed, knowing full well how long I'd been
drooling over Jay's ass. "Come on," someone yelled at me, "Take him up on his
offer! It may be the only chance you ever get!" Again everyone laughed, and I
could feel the same mix of eroticism and discomfort I'd felt two months back in
the bathroom with Jay.

Had I been sober, I would have put a stop to the conversation immediately. But
once again, my level of intoxication was affecting my judgement. People were
shouting out, "Come on, Jay! Let him kiss your ass!" and shouting at me, "Do
it! Do it!" Jay and I sat there with stupid grins on our faces. I knew we were
both very tempted to follow the suggestions - Jay, because it would satisfy his
lust for power, and me, because it would satisfy my lust for his ass. Finally,
as our co-worker continued to urge us on, Jay looked at me with a smile and
said, "Do you want to kiss it?" My co-workers cheered as I smiled back and
said, "Sure."

Jay and I both stood up, and someone from the laughing crowd cried out, "Bend
over, Jay!"

"No, no, no," Jay said. Then he turned to me and announced, "If I'm going to do
this, you have to lay on the grass, and I'll sit on your face."

My mouth dropped open in surprise, and my co-workers broke into laughter at my
reaction. "Do it!" they yelled. "You may never get another chance!"

I felt humiliated and really didn't want to allow Jay to sit on my face in
front of all of my co-workers, but I felt completely trapped and thought I'd
look even more stupid if I tried to back out now. My hesitation caused Jay's
face to break into a huge smile, and I knew that I was providing him with
incredible pleasure - at my expense. Finally, in a rather weak voice I said,
"Okay," causing a cheer to ring out from my colleagues. "Perfect," Jay
announced as I began laying down on the grass. "I've been holding back a fart
that I'm dying to share with you." Once again, my co-workers laughed as Jim
placed one foot on the ground on each side of my head, facing my feet. Slowly
he lowered his ass towards my face as the crowd cheered him on. For a second,
it was like I was in heaven as the weight of his ass cheeks pressed against my
face. My co-workers grew completely quiet as Jay announced, "Here it comes!" I
could sense him grunting, and then an incredible fart exploded from his ass. My
co-workers were laughing and cheering as Jay continued to sit on my face,
forcing me to breathe in the vulgar stench as I felt his body jiggle with his
own laughter. I placed my hands on his ass and tried to force him off while
shouting out, "Get up - you're killing me!" causing more laughter from the
crowd. As I struggled to push him off me, Jay pushed out another fart, and I
thought I might die. Having had slight whiffs of his farts earlier on in the
day, I had never imagined how much stronger and more putrid they would be from
this close up.

Jay's strong thighs gripped tightly around my head, and although those watching
may not have realized how desperately I was struggling to force him off my
face, I knew for certain that Jay was well aware of how hard I was trying to
break free. Despite this, he remained on my face until he'd managed to push out
a third loud and sickening fart. "Oh fuck!" he said as the smell overpowered
me, "That feels so much better!" as my co-workers continued to laugh at his
theatrics.

Finally, pushing himself off of my face, Jay rose to his feet. Looking down at
me with a huge smile he asked, "Was it worth it?" I could feel the blood
rushing to my face with humiliation, but since I was in front of all of my co-
workers, I did my best to put on a brave face. I sat up on the grass and raised
my hands in the air in a victory sign, shouting, "I finally got to kiss it!" as
my co-workers cheered. I glanced over at Jay, and knew by the look on his face
that he recognized how desperately I was trying to cover up my complete
degradation. I avoided looking at him for the rest of the day.

When I returned to work after the weekend, once again, I was filled with
apprehension. I was concerned about my friendship with Jay, and whether it
could ever feel the same, and beyond that, all of my co-workers had been
present to watch me degrade myself. I had no idea how I'd be treated or if they
would have all lost respect for me. As it turned out, aside from some playful
ribbing (which embarrassed me considerably more than it had in the past), my
colleagues seemed no different towards me than they had before the staff
retreat. And for the most part, Jay's interaction with me remained as it had
before, although at times I caught him stealing a glance at me that I wasn't
sure how to interpret. It was almost as if he was wondering what lengths I
would actually go to in order to gain a few seconds of sexual satisfaction from
him. A couple of times, I actually thought I saw his penis flinch in his jeans
as he stared at me that way, but I couldn't be totally certain.

There was one change in the way that Jay treated me that I wasn't terribly
pleased about. After our adventure at the staff retreat, it was like he thought
he had permission to "share" his farts with me any time he pleased. He'd be
standing next to my desk looking at a client's file, and as he reached for a
pen to make a note in the file, he'd bend his ass so it was pointed at my face,
and let a loud fart rip from his jeans. As much as I appreciated the view, the
stench was often times overwhelming - one particular day, I can remember
gagging at the smell, causing Jay to laugh with even more gusto than usual. I
would feel my face turn red and tell him playfully how disgusting I was finding
him, and then he'd remind me that I'd once made the choice to "suck farts from
his ass," as he put it. I would become even more embarrassed at such comments,
making it so difficult to confront him when he chose to "share" his farts with
me that I would usually just ignore him and put up with the stench. But then
once again, in a way, he was demonstrating his power over me, and once again,
we both were keenly aware of how successful he had become at degrading me.

Things changed a bit over the next few weeks when a new drug researcher was
hired on at the clinic. Jay was responsible for training Dennis, giving him
less time to harass me, and beyond that, Dennis was, in many ways, quite
similar to Jay - and they seemed to hit it off immediately. Dennis was a black
man in his late 20s, quite stunning in terms of his looks, clearly in
exceptional shape, and dressed very much like Jay - in tight t-shirts and snug-
fitting jeans that showed off his huge basket and beautiful round ass. Unlike
Jay, however, Dennis had not worked with gay clients in the past, and he was
quite homophobic. Within days of starting at the clinic, he made obvious
efforts to avoid me and even looked at me with disgust on his face several
times, causing me to realize that Jay or someone else on staff must have
informed him that I was the token gay staff member.

The fact that Jay and Dennis seemed to become such fast friends, and the fact
that Dennis was obviously not comfortable being around me, made it so that Jay
spent less and less time with me as he nurtured his new found friendship. On
one level, it was a relief to be given a break from Jay's attempts to humiliate
me, but truthfully, I resented being pushed aside by Jay as he spent more and
more time with Dennis. Despite some of the uncomfortable events I'd experienced
with Jay, I'd had far more great times with him and missed spending our time
together. On occasion, Jay would still harass me, grabbing his cock and saying
"Want some?" in a playful manner. The first time Dennis heard Jay make such a
comment to me, his eyes almost bugged out of his head. "That's disgusting," he
said, making no effort to hide his feelings from me. Jay just laughed saying,
"I like to tease the faggot." I was hurt and insulted at being referred to as
the "faggot," despite the fact that Jay had called me names playfully many
times. Somehow, on that occasion, it didn't feel like a joke. But I said
nothing, and then kicked myself later for failing to come to my own defense.
For some reason, when Jay was with Dennis, I felt somewhat insecure around him
- almost the same way I'd felt when I was first hired on at the clinic.

One day, when I was sitting in the lunch room alone, Jay and Dennis walked in
together. I glanced up and could tell by the look on Dennis's face that as soon
as he saw me, he wanted to turn around and leave. Jay didn't notice Dennis's
discomfort and sat himself down in the chair across from me, and reluctantly,
Dennis took the chair next to Jay.

"Man, have I got the farts today," Jay announced to me with a smile. "Wanna
kiss my ass?"

"That's revolting," Dennis said, with a twisted look on his face.

Jay just laughed, turning to Dennis and saying, "You should have seen what
happened at our staff retreat!" He then went on to tell Dennis the whole story
as I sat there mortified, wishing like hell that he would shut up, or that I
could crawl under the table and hide. Dennis looked horrified and disgusted as
Jay told him all of the details, and every once in a while he'd glance at me as
if I was the most detestable creature he had ever laid eyes on. "That is the
nastiest story I've ever heard," he said with conviction. Then he looked at me
and said, "I can't believe what a disgusting faggot you are."

I was completely taken off guard - Dennis had never spoken a word directly to
me, let alone insulted me to my face. I was trying to figure out how to react
when Jay appeared to recognize the degree to which Dennis disliked me, and
tried to diffuse the situation by saying, "It was all a joke, Dennis. We just
like to have fun together like that." I was proud of Jay for trying to stick up
for me since I had begun to doubt his commitment to our friendship, but his
words seemed completely lost on Dennis, who stood up and said, "Well I think
it's sick and I hope I don't ever have to see you guys having 'fun' together,"
as he turned and walked out of the lunchroom.

Jay stood to go after him, pausing only to say to me, "Don't worry about him -
he'll come around." Then he bent his ass towards me, squeezed out a fart, and
left the room laughing, calling after Dennis, "Hey man, wait up!"

The next day, Jay was waiting for me in my office when I arrived at work. "I
had a talk with Dennis," he told me. "Don't let him get on your nerves. He's
never known any gay people before, but he'll come around. He and I went for a
drink together last night and I told him all sorts of things about you, and
about gay people in general. He asked a lot of questions - so at least he's
open to gaining an understanding." I thanked Jay for his efforts and he left my
office. I watched his ass as he walked back to his desk.

Later that same day, I was totally surprised when Dennis came into my office
and asked me if he could sit down. I waved him towards a chair. I was surprised
when he shut the door behind him. He was clearly uncomfortable, but seemed to
have an agenda, so I remained quiet while he struggled to find his words.

"I didn't mean to be insulting yesterday," he said. "I guess you and Jay are
friends - I didn't know that until last night. Jay's a pretty good guy, so I
guess you can't be too bad either."

I thanked him for saying so.

"It's just that I've never really known a fag - a gay, or whatever. It's just
hard to get used to the thought..."

"That's okay," I said. "I'm really impressed that you came to speak with me -
I'm shocked even."

Dennis remained quiet for a few seconds, but made no effort to get up to leave,
so I assumed he had something else on his mind. I waited for him to speak
again.

"Jay told me you stare at his ass a lot," he said. I smiled, not sure how to
respond. Dennis continued: "Do you stare at mine, too?"

I wasn't certain what to say. Is it wise to admit to a self-described homophobe
that you stare at his ass? I wasn't sure. But I figured he'd made an honest
effort to approach me, so I might as well be honest in return. "Sometimes," I
said. He nodded, but continued to look deep in thought. I had no idea where the
conversation was going.

"Jay said you drank his piss," Dennis said. I could feel the blood rush to my
face and I began to squirm. As far as I knew, Jay had never shared that
information with any of our other co-workers. I was mortified that Dennis had
been told about it, and had no idea what I should say. "Is it true?" he asked.

Still squirming, I asked him, "Why do you want to know?"

Dennis squirmed a bit in response, and I was completely perplexed about why we
were having this conversation and what it might be leading to. "I just want to
know," he said.

"Why?" I repeated.

He hesitated before responding, glancing at the door to my office to make sure
it was fully shut. "Because," he said, "I want to know if you want to drink my
piss."

I was completely blown away. Why the hell would he want me to drink his piss?
Not to mention that I was the wrong guy to ask. I know there's a segment of gay
society that gets turned on by piss games, but I am not part of it, and the
idea of drinking piss is revolting to me. I tried to explain this to Dennis,
telling him that the only reason I'd drank Jay's piss was so that I could
experience taking his cock into my mouth, and that, in fact, I'd found the
whole piss-drinking aspect of the encounter completely disgusting. Dennis
seemed to almost brighten when I told him that.

"I'd let you suck me," he said. "You could suck me 'till I cum, if you want.
Just as long as you drink my piss."

My cock stirred in my pants as Dennis offered me the opportunity of sucking him
off, but I was still confused about his motives and unsure if I'd be willing to
submit to drinking another man's piss again.

"I don't understand why," I said, the confusion in my voice evident.

"It's just something I've fantasized about," he said, as I tried to come to
grips with how open he was being with me. "Actually, my fantasy has been to
have some bitch kneeling before me - almost like a slave - ready to drink my
piss or whatever else I want from her. I've never thought about doing that with
a guy. The thought of sex with a guy makes me feel sick. But since Jay told me
that you drank his piss, I haven't been able to think about anything else. And
if you'll drink mine, I think I can manage to let you suck me off. I'll just
close my eyes and pretend you're a bitch, that's all."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and felt for a moment like I'd lost the
ability to speak. What would drive Dennis to share his darkest fantasies with a
virtual stranger? Could he really long so much to have his fantasy fulfilled
that he would risk being so open with me? But then I thought of myself, and how
vulnerable I'd allowed myself to become with Jay just to experience a few
seconds of his cock in my mouth and his ass on my face. Having a forbidden
fantasy fulfilled will drive some people to do the craziest things.

"Well," Dennis said, interrupting my thoughts. "Do you want to do it - drink my
piss?"

"I don't want to drink your piss, Dennis. Let's be clear on that. If I was to
choose to do it, it would only be so that I could suck you off."

Dennis smiled saying, "It's a deal then," when in fact, I wasn't yet certain
how I felt about our deal. I'd lusted after Jay for ages when I'd agreed to
degrade myself for him, whereas with Dennis, I barely knew him. I had never
been with a black man, which greatly intrigued me, and the thought of sucking
off a straight black man was definitely a turn-on, but at what expense?

"Stay late after work tonight," Dennis told me. "We'll do it in the men's
washroom." Then he got up and walked out of my office before I had the chance
to respond.

For the rest of the day, I had trouble keeping my mind on my work. One minute,
I found myself salivating at the thought of sucking off a black god-like man,
the next minute, I found myself thinking that I was crazy to even give thought
to the idea. As the work day drew to a close, my co-workers walked past my
office on their way out of the clinic, wishing me a good evening. Jay stopped
by and asked me why I hadn't packed up my things. "I have a few calls to make
and a bit of work to catch up on," I told him. I watched his ass as he left,
still not entirely certain that I wanted to follow through with meeting up with
Dennis in the bathroom.

As the last of my co-workers filed out the door, I took a walk around the
clinic just to be certain they'd all left. I noticed Dennis doing the same.
Once it was clear that we were alone, he approached me in the hallway asking,
"Are you ready?" I almost felt trapped. Obviously, I'd remained after work, so
he assumed that I was willing to follow through on our deal. But in reality, I
was still battling it out in my head even as I followed him towards the
washroom - staring at his beautiful ass from behind.

The washroom at the clinic is a one-guy-at-a-time kind of place. There is no
urinal - just a small room with a toilet and a sink. I followed Dennis in and
he closed the door - he was breathing heavily, and my heart began to race.
Dennis looked straight into my eyes and said, "From this point on, you are my
bitch, do you understand?" My cock stiffened in my jeans as I imagined the
role-play that was coming. At that moment, I decided to get into it with
Dennis, and responded with a respectful, "Yes, Sir." My words made him groan as
he grabbed at his cock through his jeans.

"Get on your knees, bitch," he told me firmly. I slowly bent my knees and knelt
before him. He grabbed at his jeans, ripping open the buttons as I stared up at
him. "Pull them down," he commanded, and I reached up and grabbed onto his
jeans. His cock flopped out and hit me in the face as I pushed his jeans to his
ankles. Despite being soft, it was absolutely huge and had a funky smell to it.
To my surprise, Dennis backed up and sat down on the toilet, motioning for me
to crawl over between his legs. I obeyed, staring at his incredible tool, and
realizing at that second that I'd made the right choice in agreeing to meet up
with him. Never before had I been in the presence of such a thick piece of
meat. I couldn't imagine what it might look like erect.

Dennis grabbed my hair. He was not at all gentle, and I was taken aback. I was
willing to get into the fantasy, but I didn't want him hurting me. Before I
could protest, he was shoving my face towards his cock saying, "Time to be my
toilet, bitch. You wanna be my fucking toilet? Huh? Well that's what gonna
happen, whether you like it or not."

He mashed my face into his cock, and it felt so great as he rubbed it over my
face. It was still soft, but had precum oozing from the head. I felt his
wetness smearing over my face. "Take it in your mouth, bitch!" he commanded me,
and I parted my lips, slurping his cock into my mouth. Taking me off guard, he
blew a loud fart into the toilet. We hadn't discussed farts, but I guessed he
felt comfortable with the idea, having been told about my adventures with Jay's
farts. The stench of his fart swept up from the toilet and hit me full force
just as Dennis began to piss. Between the smell of his fart and the taste of
his piss, I began gagging and heaving, and suddenly felt like I needed to
escape. My past experiences with this type of encounter had involved alcohol -
but I was totally sober. I began to panic and tried to push myself up from the
floor, but Dennis kept his grip on my hair, forcing me to remain kneeling
before him. Meanwhile, I was forced to gulp down his piss or choke, and so I
swallowed over and over again, despite the bitter, revolting taste. He could
hear me gagging and could see me struggling wildly, but he just kept repeating,
"Drink it, bitch! Drink it down! I fucking own you, bitch!" His piss seemed
unending and I was beginning to feel bloated. Each mouthful of piss was more
difficult to swallow than the one before, and I prayed for the end of the
disgusting nightmare I was living through.

Dennis farted again, and then I heard the sound of something "plop" into the
toilet water. An overwhelming stench crept up from between Dennis's legs, and I
realized with a feeling of panic what was occurring - he was taking a shit!
"Keep drinking, bitch!" he ordered, as I heard several more "plops" splash into
the bowl. My stomach began to heave at the stench, and I feared I would puke. I
wasn't convinced that Dennis would rescue me from choking on my own vomit, so I
struggled to adjust to the revolting odour of his shit while continuing to
drink down the last of his piss. He kept grunting and dropping more logs into
the the bowl, and I wondered how long he'd been saving his shit for this
occasion. His cock grew hard as he finished pissing, and with my hair firmly in
the grip of his huge hand, he began forcing my head up and down on his cock. I
could tell he was getting really turned on - he kept saying, "Oh yeah. Oh yeah!
Oh yeah!!" his voice growing louder each time he spoke. "That's a good bitch.
That's a good bitch. Oh yeah!" And then he'd squeeze more shit from his ass.

Suddenly, without warning, he stood up and began violently fucking my mouth and
throat. I tried to scream at him to stop but his cock was so huge in my throat
that I could barely get a sound to escape, and Dennis was so caught up in the
pleasure he was experiencing that I doubted he'd notice my cries one way or the
other. Finally, he pulled his cock from my mouth and began jacking it in my
face. "I'm going to cum," he said in a low voice. And then his voice grew
louder and louder as he repeated over and over, "I'm going to cum. I'm going to
cum! I'm going to fucking cum!" As he continued to jerk his cock frantically,
he turned his body so that his ass was in my face, still gripping onto my hair.

Before I had a moment to realize what was going on, he began wiping his ass
with my face. As his stinking crack was forced over my nose and lips, I began
to cry out, "No! No! Stop!" but he continued to smear his shit on me. Finally,
with an incredible cry, he announced a final time, "I'm going to fucking
cum!!!" and I felt his body stiffen. He released my hair and I pulled my face
from his crack just in time to see his cum spraying into the air and landing
stream after stream onto the bathroom wall.

I could sense him relaxing next to me as his cock grew limp in his hand. I felt
as if I was in a daze - never had I been so abused and brutalized, so degraded
and treated like trash. Dennis's laughter brought me back to the reality at
hand - it started as a low guttural laugh, and progressed into near hysterics.
He was looking at me and pointing his finger at my face, his body jiggling as
he grabbed at his gut. "Your face is full of my shit," he managed to say
through his laughter. I was so mortified that I jumped to my feet, grabbed for
the door, and went running down the hall like a crazy man. I could hear his
continued laughing behind me, and even when I got to my office and slammed the
door shut, his laughter continued to ring in my ears.

I waited about 20 minutes, hoping Dennis had left. Obviously I would need to
return to the bathroom to get cleaned up. I walked passed his office and
noticed that his jacket was gone. I rounded the corner and noticed that the
bathroom door was open and the light was off. As I got to the bathroom door,
the stench of Dennis's shit hit me from inside the room, and I recoiled,
feeling my stomach heave at the memory of what I'd been through. I pushed the
door open and flipped on the light. Everything was just as it had been when I'd
left - Dennis's shit was floating in the toilet, and his cum was smeared over
the wall.

Disgusted and annoyed, I flushed the toilet, feeling like doing so was a
further act of degradation - he couldn't even bother having flushed it himself,
knowing full well that I would do it before leaving. I then began to clean his
cum off the wall with a paper towel - the last thing I needed was for my co-
workers to see it there when they returned to work in the morning. Finally, I
dared to look at my face in the mirror, and was horrified at the brown streaks
of shit smearing my face. I turned on the water to wash myself, hearing the
sound of Dennis's laughter echoing in my ears.

The following day was Friday, and I called in sick. I simply could not bring
myself to look Dennis in the eye after what he had put me through. The more I
thought about it, the more angry I became. He had abused me in a way that went
far beyond whatever permission I had given him, and yet, even if technically
he'd broken the law, there was no way I would degrade myself by telling the
story of how he'd treated me to the police. And he knew it - Dennis knew he'd
trapped me with humiliation. And the fact that he knew it and therefore
couldn't care less about how horridly he'd treated me only fuelled my anger. In
the end, though, I realized I was most angry at myself. Why did I allow myself
to get into these situations that were so totally degrading? In the past, I'd
been able to blame it on alcohol. What could I blame it on this time?

I stayed in bed for most of the weekend. I wasn't really sick, but I felt
disgusted with myself and had no energy to accomplish anything. When Monday
rolled around, I battled the urge to call in sick again. But I knew I'd have to
make it to work eventually, and Monday is such a busy day at the clinic, that I
thought it might be best to return when it would be easiest to avoid Dennis.

To my complete disappointment, he was standing by the door as I entered the
clinic. He looked at me and a huge grin spread across his face. Saying nothing,
he began to whistle a tune, and turned to walk towards his office. He reached
back and scratched his ass as he walked away from me, knowing full well that I
would be watching him. I closed my eyes and turned away in disgust.

Somehow, I managed to make it through the day. As I was packing up my things to
go, Jay came into my office, closing the door behind me. "We have to talk," he
said, his voice sounding very serious.

"What's up?" I asked him.

"How could you do it?" he asked in a demanding tone.

"What?" I asked apprehensively, wondering if Dennis would really have had the
guts to share with Jay what we'd experienced together.

"How could you eat Dennis's shit?" he asked in a tone that sounded like he was
jealous. I shook my head as if I was dreaming.

"What?!" I asked. "Eat his shit?! What the fuck are you talking about? Is that
what he told you?"

"You mean you're denying it?" Jay said, clearly not believing me.

"Yes I'm fucking denying it," I spit out. "I don't know what the hell he told
you, and I can't believe that I am being put in the position of telling you
what occurred between us, but let me assure you that I didn't eat Dennis's
shit!" I could feel my face turning beet red.

"I don't believe you," Jay said flatly. "You're turning all red - obviously
you're ashamed about something."

"Ashamed!" I yelled. "I'm fucking mortified! Dennis forced me to suck his cock
while he was shitting, and then he wiped his ass on my face! I have never been
so degraded in my life, and you know full well that I've experienced more than
my fair share of degrading experiences."

"He forced you?" Jay said, his disbelief evident. "I know what depths you'll
sink to in order to get off. Remember who you're speaking with."

"Fuck you!" I shouted. "You have no idea what a horrible experience it was for
me last week! And coming here today was like rubbing my face in it some more! I
have never been so poorly treated, but there isn't a damn thing I can do about
it. If you'd been abused like that, who would you tell? There's no fucking way
I'm repeating this story, and if you do..."

"If I do, what?" Jay asked, squinting his eyes at me.

I calmed down and continued: "Just please don't repeat it. I'm mortified, Jay.
I feel totally defeated."

Jay sighed. "Well," he said, "I'm glad to hear your version of the story. I was
kind of pissed off at you, to be honest. I couldn't believe you'd do that for
Dennis when you hardly know him."

"What," I said, "and you think it would be okay to be shit on by someone I know
well?"

"Well," Jay hesitated. "Maybe." And then I saw a weird gleam in his eye.

"No way!" I said firmly. "There is no fucking way! I will never be put through
that humiliation again. How could you even think for a second that I would?
What human in his right mind would willingly submit to having shit wiped on his
face?"

"Not even if I agreed to make love to you?" Jay asked.

I was taken aback at how gently he said the words "make love," but my anger
wouldn't be so swiftly subdued. "Are you hearing me?!" I spit out. "Why the
fuck would you want to do it anyway? What possible thrill could it give you?"

Jay's voice grew soft. "Well," he said, "it would be like showing a commitment
to me - allowing me to do something to you that no other person on earth has
ever been allowed to do before."

"Well, Jay," I said impatiently, "we've established only moments ago that
Dennis already used my face like toilet paper. You're a little late to be the
only one on earth."

"But I want to shit in your mouth," Jay said, his tone still quiet. "I want you
to eat my shit."

There are moments in time that seem so completely unreal that you almost have
to pinch yourself to be certain you're not dreaming. The conversation we were
having was so far beyond what anyone might expect to experience in a lifetime
that I was almost dumbfounded - I had no idea what to say or how to express the
intense emotions I was feeling. Jay apparently took my inability to speak as a
sign that I was considering what he'd told me he wanted. "So will you do it?"
he asked. "If I agree to give you whatever you desire most, would you fulfill
this desire for me?"

In my calmest voice, I asked him, "What the fuck do you suppose you could give
me that would be worth putting myself through such extreme degradation and
mental anguish? What do you suppose you could offer me in return?"

"To be your lover?" he asked slowly.

I looked at Jay in disbelief. He wanted this so bad that he would offer me
himself? "But you're straight," I managed to say despite the fog in my head.
"It just doesn't make sense."

"Yeah, I'm straight," he said. "But we've both known for some time that there's
something sexual about our friendship. I've tried to distance myself from you
over the past few weeks because I was getting concerned about that sexual
element. But what I've realized is that I care about you in a way that doesn't
make any sense to me. There have been so many nights when I've laid in bed
thinking about how you've tried to seduce me, how you're so into my body, and
how you've been so willing to do what I say, even when it means giving up all
your pride. And thinking about all of that has really turned me on. Not really
in the same way as a woman does, in a very different way. But what I'm
realizing is, that maybe it's in a better way."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," I said. "It seems impossible. I've lusted
after you for over two years - how can you be saying this now?"

Jay chose not to respond - perhaps he had no idea why himself.

"And what does this have to do with me eating your shit?" I asked him, suddenly
remembering what topic of conversation had led to these incredible revelations
in the first place.

"It would be like giving me the ultimate," Jay explained. "If I'm willing to
give up being straight to be with you, what could you possibly give up that
would even come close to creating the same sense of loss? There's nothing you
could do. Nothing compares. Eating my shit, though, would be symbolic of your
effort to sacrifice as much as I'm willing to sacrifice for you. Does that make
sense?"

Strangely enough, I could understand what he was saying. It still seemed
completely incredible. The whole conversation was totally surreal. But the idea
of having Jay as my lover was overwhelming. It was like my ultimate fantasy
coming true. And not even really a sexual fantasy - more like one of those
dreamy fantasies people have about what could happen that would make their
lives seem complete. And as I thought about it, I realized that I would agree.
I would eat Jay's shit.

We walked through the clinic together, making sure that all of our colleagues
had left for the day. And then we walked to the men's bathroom together - the
same bathroom I'd been humiliated in only days before. In silence, we stripped
off our clothes, and I laid myself down on the floor. Jay stood over me and
hesitated - almost like he was wanting to be sure he was ready to commit this
symbolic act of joining ourselves together as a couple. Then slowly, he lowered
himself down over my face. I smelled the stench of his asshole as he adjusted
it over my mouth - but somehow that smell had taken on a new meaning, and I
inhaled deeply just as Jay pushed out a fart.

I forced my tongue against his hole, and felt it begin to open up. I felt his
body grow tense as he tried to squeeze out a turd. I felt a log of Jay's shit
begin to slide to the opening of his ass. I gagged at the smell, but continued
to suck at his hole, letting him know that despite how hard this was for me, I
wanted him to continue. And then I could feel the lips of his ass open wide,
and the turd inched gently past my lips and across my tongue. With my stomach
heaving, I bit into Jay's turd, completely revolted but intensely excited at
what was occurring. He rested on my face while I chewed his shit, forcing it
down while resisting the incredible urge to vomit. And then he began pushing
again, and I felt his shit once again filling my mouth.

And that was just over a year ago. Jay and I live together now, and we're
intensely in love. We don't make shit play a regular part of our relationship -
in fact, the only time I've eaten Jay's shit since that first time on the
bathroom floor was at our one-year anniversary, almost as a reminder of the
commitment and sacrifice we've both made for one another. Every once in a
while, I agree to drink Jay's piss. It reminds us both of that first time he
pissed in my mouth, months before we would ever begin imagining that we would
someday be a couple in love.

Of course, there is still a power imbalance in our relationship, but we both
recognize it and accept it as part of what makes us perfect for one another. My
need to service Jay is as great as his need to be served. And he still likes to
share his farts with me.

The staff at the clinic initially could not believe it when Jay and I announced
that we were in love. Dennis especially found the idea difficult to swallow,
although he has since left the clinic, and I'm quite happy to know that I'll
never have to interact with him again. Although in a strange way, he played an
important role in bringing Jay and I together. If it hadn't been for Dennis
telling Jay about our encounter in the men's room of the clinic, perhaps Jay
and I would have continued our relationship as it had been up to that point in
time, never allowing ourselves to discover the incredible relationship we have
now. And it truly is incredible.

written by loopy

email encouraged: loop_fruit@hotmail.com