****** Welcome to the Club by Randy S. Lavery ******
===============================================================================

Welcome to the Club


I pick up the phone and call your number. While it is ringing I leaf through
the letters and drawings you've sent me. You know the ones: where you reveal to
me your most secret and degrading desire to be used as a toilet, and I smile as
I think about how I'm planning to fulfill your fantasy.

At last you answer. "Hello?"

"Doug," I growl, "this is Randy. I got your letter."

"Great. What'd you think?"

"Hot stuff. I'm sitting here stroking my hard-on while I look at it all."

"I'm glad you like it. I usually have to jack off a couple of times during the
writing or drawing of each piece cause I get so hot from fantasizing about
those scenes."

"Yeah, I thought these looked like cum splatters on this one page."

"I'm sure that's probably right; I'm surprised I don't mess up more pages along
the way."

I sit quietly for a moment, imagining you doing all of the things you've drawn
and written. My cock throbs as I stroke the foreskin back real hard and squeeze
the base of my tool.

The silence unnerves you. "Umm...I sure enjoyed meeting you and your friends
the other evening at the bar. To be honest, I didn't know what to expect when
you said you'd be in my area and had time to meet me. Somehow I thought you'd
come alone."

"Yeah, well, if it had worked out that way I would have, but those are a couple
of guys I've known for years. When they called and wanted to get together for a
drink, I was already lined up in your area and had set up the meet with you, so
I just invited them along. Hope that was okay with you."

"Oh, yes, that was fine. Like I said it was just nice to actually meet you
after all this time. Your buddies being there didn't affect that at all."

"Glad to hear it, 'cause you made a good impression on them."

"Really? I'm glad."

"Yeah. In fact, they suggested I invite you along on our next camping trip."

This takes you completely by surprise. At last you manage to stutter,
"C..camping trip?"

"Yeah. One of my buddies owns a small cabin down in the Ozarks. It's not much
of a place, pretty primitive really. About the only amenity is that it does
have electricity. It's way out in the boonies by itself. Three or four times a
year the three of us go down there for a guys getaway. We take off at noon on
Friday and drive down, then come back on Sunday afternoon late. Mostly we just
play cards, sit around and shoot the shit, take an occasional hike or something
like that. You know, just sort of hang out together for a weekend. It's almost
like a small private club."

"Gee...I don't know. When is this trip going to be?"

"Oh, we're going down the weekend after next. We'd enjoy having you come along
with us."

"Uh, sure, I guess. Sounds like it might be fun. I'll arrange to get that
Friday afternoon off."

"Great. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. We always have a great time. Oh, pack
light. You'll only need a couple of changes of clothing. We'll provide all the
eats and drinks."

On the appointed day my friends and I pull into your driveway in a black custom
van. You meet me at the door with your small overnight bag in your hand, ready
to go. When we're seated in the bucket seats in the back of the van, I
reintroduce you to my friends.

"Doug, you remember Jim and Mark from the other night?"

"Yeah. How you guys doing? It's good to meet you again."

Jim and Mark both tell you how glad they are that you could make this trip with
us, and that they think you'll have as good a time as we all do whenever we
make these outings. Then we hit the road for the four hour drive to Jim's
cabin.

When Jim swings the van off of the highway and onto a narrow gravel road, I
tell you that we're almost there. Five miles up the gravel road, we turn off at
a weed-covered lane with a gate across it. Mark climbs out with the key to the
lock and opens the gate, then closes it again behind us. When he's back in, we
drive the last mile up the old logging road to the clearing where Jim's cabin
sits. The only sign of civilization at all is the pole and wire bringing in the
REA juice.

You look around when we pile out of the van, and feel intimidated by the
isolation, but the sounds of our cheerful voices as we start to unload the van
reassures you. You quickly pitch in to help me and Mark carry stuff into the
cabin while Jim goes around to the side of the cabin to turn on the
electricity. It takes several trips for the three of us to carry in the food
and especially the drinks--several cases of beer and pop.

Once everything is in and unloaded, everyone grabs a beer as Jim tosses a deck
of cards onto the table. "Let's play poker!" he announces.

Mark looks at me and asks if I've explained the rules of the house to you. You
look at me with a questioning face.

"Rules?"

"Yeah, I forgot to mention the house poker rules. We play a variation of strip
poker here."

I pause as you glance around the room, wondering just what you've gotten
yourself into.

Jim looks up from shuffling the cards and explains. "It's really pretty simple.
Straight poker, though we sometimes vary the type of hand. It costs one item of
clothing to fold, two items of clothing if you hold your hand and lose. If you
run out of clothes to take off, then we play for penalties on the same ratio: 1
for folding, 2 for losing. We keep track of the penalties with poker chips.
Each guy uses a different color of chip to keep everything straight. If you're
holding a guys chip you can redeem it at anytime for a penalty or a favor. A
favor
could be like if you want another beer but don't want to get up and get it
yourself, you cash in a chip and have that guy get it for you. There's no limit
on what the nature of the favor can be, just that it be a service that one
person can perform for another. If you wind up with a surplus, you can take
them home with you and cash them in anytime. Generally the next trip to the
cabin is scheduled by when everyone has redeemed all their winnings from the
previous trip."

"What's this about penalties," you ask.

Mark jumps in on this one. "Oh, penalties only happen while on the trip. They
cost two chips each, and there is a list of them that can be chosen at random,
or sometimes there may be one single agreed upon penalty for the whole trip. An
example of that would be the time that a penalty was decreed to be a 5 minute
stay in the old outhouse."

"What's so bad about that?" you ask.

"Well," Jim explains, "it's old and run down, has a few spiders around it, and
is kind of smelly. We don't use it much anymore except for something like a
penalty box."

"Okay, I guess. What's the penalty going to be on this trip?"

"We usually don't decide whether or not to have a fixed penalty or use the
random list until Saturday morning 'cause it's not until after the Friday night
card game ends at midnight that we know what we'll have in the way of chips to
cash in towards them," I explain. "On the random list, by the way, there are
thirteen items, which are selected by the one being penalized through cutting
the cards. Whatever is cut, is the number of the penalty used."

Jim started dealing four hands. "Enough talk, let's play."

You take a seat at the table and pick up your cards.

It doesn't take too many hands before everybody is sitting at the table naked.
I was the first that way, having been beaten by a slightly better hand when I
was down to just my briefs. I had stood up, peeled them down my legs and tossed
them onto the pile of clothes in the corner and then turned back toward the
table to toss a chip to Jim, the winner of the hand. He had tossed it right
back at me and told me to get him another beer. As I walked to the fridge, he
looked around the table for other requests and then ordered me to bring another
beer for everyone.

Mark had announced that before he could drink another beer, he had to get rid
of the ones he had already had.

Jim had pointed to a corner and said, "You know where it is. And boy am I glad
you had to go. I was about to bust holding back a load waiting for someone else
to call a piss break."

Mark went to the corner and pulled the cover off of the object there. It was a
commode chair, essentially a toilet seat attached to a metal framework, under
which hung a bucket. As he started to pee through the hole in the seat the
sound of piss splashing into the plastic bucket echoed loudly through the room.

You looked at me quizically as I set down another beer in front of you. I saw
your eyes dart toward my uncut cock dangling just inches from your face before
I slid the other beers across the table and sat back down in my chair.

"As we said, the old outhouse is more suitable for a penalty box than for
actual use," I explain. "So using that thing makes more sense. When it starts
to get full someone will empty it back out."

Jim adds, "Especially at night that makes more sense. The electricity does not
go to the old shitter, and I never was much of one for sitting down out there
in the dark with all the bugs and shit that come out at night in the woods."

You laugh and express your understanding as Mark sits back down. Jim goes over
and empties his bladder into the commode and returns. You excuse yourself and
go pee also while the next hand is being dealt. You and Mark are both naked
when the hand is concluded. I win the next hand, though, and collect a few
chips from the two of you while Jim tosses his underwear onto the abandoned
clothing pile.

I toss a chip on the table and say "Deal me out."

Mark explains to you that it costs a chip into the pot to sit out a hand so as
to discourage not playing while I head for the commode in the corner. Unlike
everyone else, though, I sit down on it and take a shit. The sound of the turds
plopping into the pool of piss at the bottom of the bucket is clearly audible
to everyone in the room, but no one seems to notice as the poker game goes on.
I am just finishing wiping my ass when Jim wants to know if I'm going to toss
in another chip or play the next hand.

"Deal me in; I'm finished."

The game goes on for several more hours, and the chips pile up in front of us.
Everyone makes a couple more trips to the commode, with all of us at one point
or another taking a dump in the bucket. Finally Jim announces that it is
midnight and we're on the last hand. Jim and Mark quickly fold, but you hold on
to your cards only to lose to my full house. As you hand me your two chips, Jim
starts to clear the table while Mark gathers up everyone's winnings and sets
them aside.

"Doug," I say, "there is something I didn't tell you about this weekend. After
the guys met you I told them about your toilet fantasies and that if you were
able to carry through on your desires, you'd make a great addition to our
little club here. You see, we all have a common interest in scat, going back
together many years. You're the first outsider to join the group in all this
time, but I convinced them that you really were one of us and that we should
invite you into our little club."

Your eyes dart around the room. Jim and Mark are standing off to either side of
you as I explain. "It was your letters that convinced them, really. They
believed that you really wanted to do the things you were writing me about, and
agreed to help me break you in to the scene."

You start to stand up, but before you get very far, they have you by the arms
and force you back down into the chair. "It's not optional, Doug. You agreed to
come here and to play cards with us, knowing the rules before we started. We
have selected a single penalty for the weekend, and we are all cashing in our
chips at the same time to buy that penalty for you. You're going to be our
toilet from now until we drop you off back at your house Sunday night."

"Yeah," Jim laughs. "We're going to find out if you really are the toilet-
mouthed, piss-drinking, shit-eating queer that you want to be."

"And if not," adds Mark, "we're going to turn you into one anyway."

They pull you to your feet. "We've planned a special initiation for you into
our scat club," I say. "I hope you enjoy it."

I push the commode into the middle of the room, under the brightest light, and
then I remove the bucket from underneath it. Mark and Jim lead you to the
commode and push you down onto the seat; Jim holds you down while Mark straps
you to the frame by binding your ankles and forearms to the legs and arms of
the assembly. You are protesting loudly as a strap is wrapped around your waist
and the back of the chair and cinched up, but it is hard to take your protests
too seriously since your cock is at full erection. However, Jim silences you
with a leather gag which covers your mouth and has a tube extending through it
about an inch and a half on each side. You can't close your mouth because of
the tube between your teeth.

I pull the slop-bucket to where you can see the piss and shit in it. Using an
electric drill with a paint-mixing blade, I stir the contents of the bucket
into a putrid yellowish-brown sludge. The aroma of shit fills the air as I pour
some of the mixture into a smaller pail.

I look at you and smile. "We'll start with a gallon and work up from there."

Your eyes are wide, but as Jim takes delight in pointing out to everyone, your
cock is still standing at attention. He leans close to you and whispers in your
ear, reminding you that this is what you've been dreaming of, what you've been
begging for: to be bound and forced to eat shit. He strokes your hard cock
gently, then wipes the clear liquid oozing from the tiny slit onto his thumb
and spreads it across your chest.

I place the pail of liquified shit and piss into a device that Mark has brought
out, close it up and turn it on. Within seconds the brown sludge can be seen
slowly pumping its way through the long clear hose attached to the unit. The
end of the hose is marked by a Y-fitting to which two more shorter hoses are
attached. A switch on the fitting allows me to send the flow to either one or
both of the other hoses. I select one direction for the flow, and Jim takes the
end of that hose and attaches it to the tube projecting through the gag and
into your mouth.

"This started life as a power paint pump, but we found a more entertaining use
for it."

As you watch mesmerized as the shit and piss mixture is slowly pumped closer,
you feel something underneath you. It is Mark inserting a tube into your ass.
Once the tube has opened up your anus, he pumps up the retaining collars that
hold it in place. I hand him the other hose coming off of the Y-fitting and he
attaches it to the tube in your ass.

You watch as the brown stuff surges ever closer to your face. It has passed the
fitting and as you tilt your head forward you can see it pushing up the tube
toward the attachment on the gag. My friends and I come closer to watch with
you as the leading edge approaches your waiting mouth. Your cock is rigid; I
stroke it slowly while Mark gently tugs on your balls. Jim lightly pinches your
nipples and tugs at the hard points. You are moaning softly as the shit mixture
passes from your view. I switch the valve on the fitting to allow the stuff to
start flowing down the other hose as well. This slows down the flow towards
your face a bit, enough to let you wonder what is happening. Sweat is dripping
off of you as you shiver with anticipation.

"Here it comes, Dougie boy," I whisper as I gently stroke your throbbing hard-
on. "You're about to get pumped full of shit at both ends. I'm making you eat
not just my shit but your own and two other guys as well. And there's nothing
you can do to stop it, is there?"

You manage to shake your head a little.

"Not that you'd stop it if your could, though. I mean, after all, I'm just
giving you what you've begged for, what you've wanted. You're going to learn to
be a good toilet to serve me and my friends well, because that's what you want,
Right?"

You nod your head as the flow passes into the gag tube. It'll be in your mouth
in seconds. I smile at you and then lean forward to slide your cock into my
mouth. Jim and Mark applaud as they see you swallow the first mouthful of the
mixture pumped across your tongue. I slide my lips down the length of your
throbbing cock as the first load of shit slides down your throat. Your body
quakes and my mouth fills with your hot, salty cum, one blast of cum for every
swallow of shit. At last your nuts are drained, and I sit up to watch as you
get pumped full. I lick the traces of your cum from my lips as the flow in the
second tube begins to fill your ass. Slowly your belly distends outward as your
stomach and your colon fill with the thick mixture pumping through the tubes,
and we all laugh about the fact that despite having emptied your balls down my
throat, your cock never goes completely soft, remaining partially erect the
whole time our invention is filling you with the piss and shit mixture.

Only when the whole gallon of crud has been pumped into your body do we
disconnect the hoses. They have one-way valves in them to prevent anything from
coming back out. Mark unfastens you from the chair and leads you outside. You
can barely move because you are stuffed so full of shit. Jim spreads out a big
sheet of plastic on the ground and Mark positions you in the middle of it,
kneeling. They remove the gag from your mouth but leave for the moment the hose
hanging out of your ass.

"Well, Doug," I ask, "What do you have to say?"

"Th...thank you."

"You're welcome. I know how much you were wanting to eat my shit. Now what
should we do with the rest of this stuff?"

Mark laughs. "Give him a bath in it. That way he'll be covered with it both
inside and out."

"Would you like that, Doug?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Jim takes the bucket and pours it over your head. The funky yellowish-brown
sludge slowly flows down your body, covering you from head to toe. It drips off
of your hard-pointed nipples and trickles slowly off the tip of your cock. A
stream of it coats your balls before sliding to the plastic sheet beneath you.
We watch as he places the bucket itself over your head. Finally, Mark pulls you
to your feet and then deflates the retaining collars on the tube in your ass.
As soon as it pops out of your anus the shit mixture which fills your gut
starts to flow back out, trickling slowly down your legs. We leave you standing
there with instructions to go find a hose and clean yourself up and then get
back inside because we all have to pee and we want you to take it.

Mark and Jim go back into the cabin while I watch you standing there with the
mixture of everyone's piss and shit oozing out of your ass. Stepping close, I
lift the bucket from your head for a moment and say, "I think you're going to
be a great addition to our club. Plan on spending next weekend at my place,
though, 'cause I intend to give you some intensive personal attention. I know
you'll enjoy it."

I drop the bucket back over your head and go inside, leaving you to stand in
the night air and soak in our liquified shit while your guts drain back out.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
You may also want to visit:
    * Sexy_Top_100_Stories
    * Erotic_Top_100_Story_Sites