Femdom: Pissing, piss drinking, scat and watersports stories

 

 

 

 

The Scat Fantasy Fulfilled


I've always found women's bottoms compelling. They come in so many shapes and sizes - really they are as different as faces I suppose, but hidden. So often there's a sense of mystery about what that arse could look like beneath a summer frock or smart tweedy skirt. Maybe if I get lucky a gust of wind or a turn in a staircase will reveal all - a glimpse of stocking top and lace and worm's eye view of this woman's business end. And we all know what kind of business I mean. I sometimes feel I need punishing for this obsession with bums and looking up skirts - seriously punishing. Funny how an attraction to trample and crush so often goes with an absorption with the power of women's bottoms, as if there is an unspoken need not just for humiliation and surrender but also destruction there.

I can remember exactly the moment I first really got turned on by scat, although until I found it on the Internet it was a word I didn't know. My lawyer wife had a colleague from work called Kylie who was going through a messy divorce and relieving her feelings about her departing husband by fucking everyone in sight. Everyone except me. I would have died to see her a few times around the block, but as usual I had got myself cast in the role of Mr. Nice Guy and a friend to talk to. She was a superbly built woman in her late thirties with an arse and loins like a cavalry charger and I knew, thanks to a summer breeze in the garden that she sometimes wore stockings and very classy blue underwear. I wanked myself brainless for a week after that sighting.

One evening the three of us had been to a dinner dance and she stayed over - in the guest room. I was up early the next morning making coffee in the kitchen when, unaware that I was up, she went into the bathroom next door. It was an awesome performance - after a few creaks as she settled onto the seat and following two or three rather greasy farts she let fly with the duckling and roast I'd watched her eat the previously night, splashing her load into the pan in an avalanche of perhaps ten or twelve big logs. Sweet Jesus - just at that moment I would have given anything to be under her on the receiving end of that relentless evacuation. And it's sheer speed made it even sexier - a whole bird and a plateful of vegetables out of her and down the toilet in perhaps fifteen seconds.

Ever since I eavesdropped on that crap I've been trying to live out this fantasy of getting shat on by a mature woman but initially I just couldn't see how to achieve it. What kind of woman would like to shit on a man? One hot afternoon I watched a couple of really rough twenty five year olds walking around a local DIY store. They were vulgar, full of energy and crude jokes, and I could see the knicker line of one who had a rather plain arse. She looked like someone who might and God help you if you ever found yourself down between her heels, but I needed someone with more class and finesse to punish me for all those wicked thoughts I've had about women for years. Research on the Internet suggested that unless I wanted a guy to do the deed - and I have thought about it - notices on the scat boards were unlikely to work. Do any women read them at all? But in the end I thought that by making a more subtle approach on boards for 'swingers' and 'anything goes' merchants I might get somewhere and in the end that was what worked first time for me. If women - and perhaps more importantly - their husbands were excited at the prospect of lifting their skirts to a complete stranger to do one thing, maybe they would be interested in trying another...

"I'm looking for a professional couple 30-45 with imagination and curious about trying the truly bizarre. She loves to dominate - he loves to watch her dominating. E-mail me to talk about it"
Within a week I had four replies including one who, after talking on the Internet, were intrigued to try what I had in mind.

+ + + + + +

Although I had been thinking about the mechanics of my punishment for months I was still very apprehensive when I booked into a hotel in leafy Hampshire one summer evening a few weeks ago. Their names were Frank and Sue - he was a teacher and she worked in a bank. They were in their late thirties and had enjoyed some swapping and mild BDSM with Internet contacts, and were intrigued by what I'd suggested to them. I'd explained that I had a deep urge to submit totally to a woman's virility and omnipotence, and that for me the most perfect subjugation would be to be forced to lie under her while she defecated over me as copiously as possible. For me it was a kind of punishment for looking up so many skirts all my life, and I wanted her partner to watch the execution of the sentence to add to my humiliation and learn to fear the power of his woman's bottom better. What I was looking for in Sue was a real 'executioner' mentality too - someone who really wanted to not just experience, but actually relish and be turned on by using, awesome power over her male victim. We had written about the planned submission several times and I could sense that they were both turned on by the prospect of doing something so bizarre.

We agreed to meet in a nearby pub at seven and if we felt comfortable with each other to have a big meal at my expense in the hotel restaurant before carrying out the sentence upstairs. I brought with me a folding punishment toilet, which I had put a lot of care into the design of and which packed into my case. It comprised a timber frame with cross pieces at about 11" from the ground which braced the structure and once I was under the throne would pass across my chest and pinion me. My wrists would be tied to the two side cross pieces. The upper sides of the frame were covered with plywood 'modesty panels' to give intimacy to the event, but I purposely left the front panel open so that I could see my executioners stockinged legs clearly and so that if she pissed it would stream out and forward over my body. The rear was also open of course so that her partner had a clear view of my fate and also to provide plenty of light and air. I expected a gross stench when the action began and I was certainly right about that. The top of this 'punishment throne' throne was a mahogany toilet seat - I set the height at 12" above my face to get a clear view of the action myself. I was also afraid that if her anus was too close I could suffocate if the turds filled the whole space between the executioner and her victim. Two 'side boards' about 4" high ran front to back under the punishment point just far enough apart to hold my head still and upright. A plastic sheet would cover the carpet, I wound lie on that, and the device would be placed above my face. Once pinioned there was to be no going back, but to make absolutely sure there was no chance of any entreaties of mine influencing Sue I asked her to wear a Walkman when she was performing over me and to listen to Glenn Miller tapes to drown out any cries. I also thought that this would help isolate us and set her far above me.

When we met in the pub it was clear from the start that this was going to work out well. Frank - who's role was as referee and observer - was a bout forty and a tall quiet guy Sue was perhaps 35 and nearly six foot tall with blonde hair cut shoulder length in a pageboy style - an athletic looking but heavily built woman full of excitement and energy. Really sexy - lovely smooth skin. And the hint of a magnificent arse hidden under there - a real man-eater. She still played some basketball it seemed, and ate lots of potatoes and greens so I could expect a real "seeing to" later. She was wearing a very classy blue pleated skirt and blue high heeled pumps. As we ate dinner we chatted and she talked a lot about their sexual interests, and particularly about how she had been attracted to my ad because she had recently really got off while thrashing a guy at a BDSM event. She had broken the stick on him, and felt very turned on now at the prospect of humiliating someone even more completely. To give me a run for my money she hadn't taken a dump since the previous morning, and had taken her last two pees standing over the bowl to avoid accidents. Now she needed to go bigtime. As soon as this meal was complete we needed to get down to business.

It was exciting and scary to think of this big attractive girl was not just prepared to shit on me but clearly really horny at the prospect. Half way through the steaks she suddenly whispered to me, "Listen I want to get off on you feeling nervous now - drop your napkin and when you pick it up take a good look at what's in store for you. As I went under the table her strong shapely legs were spread wide and her skirt drawn up a little displaying acres of smooth thigh, white lace stocking tops and a mass of creamy French Knickers between her loins. I felt very excited and apprehensive - she was big all right. "Now run your fingers up my thigh to give me a good reason to really punish you afterwards. Frank won't mind - not when he sees what your fate is going to be". I immediately ran two fingers up the inside of her leg and to the side of he moist pussy at the top. "That's quite enough," she said pulling away, "You'll be very sorry you did that soon. You are REALLY for it now pal. As we left the restaurant she gently kissed my cheek and said "good luck, you'll need it. We won't speak again"...

It was Frank's job to secure me for execution of sentence and we made our way upstairs. I lay on the plastic sheet and the punishment throne was placed over me. My head was pinned between the boards and my wrists secured and for good measure he tied my feet to a leg the nearby bed so that I was quite helpless. Then he went down to fetch Sue. I lay there for maybe ten minutes, starting to seriously worry about this. She was a very big and strong woman. But then the door opened and in they both walked, him to take his place at the back of the throne and her with her Walkman on to stand in front of it with her back to me. She didn't even glance down at me - from down there although I couldn't fully see up her skirt yet, her thighs looked so formidable - I felt like a hapless spider spotted crossing the carpet and whose end has come. She could have flattened me at any moment with her strong graceful legs

Slowly, her back towards me, she hitched up her skirt to reveal a powerful and shapely arse covered with cream and chocolate trimmed French Knickers which she eased slowly down to her thighs to reveal for the first time large smooth buttocks set widely apart and with just a light down of pubic hair around her vagina. It was a killer's arse for sure, big and shapely and cruel. Purposefully she settled down onto her new throne and I could feel it bend under her weight as her buttocks filled the oval hole in the seat, her cheeks seeming to cover the sky form horizon to horizon cutting off all light from above. Her closed anus hovered a foot above by face. Frank watched fascinated, saying nothing, and I could hear the tinny sound of Glenn Miller on the Walkman. I felt the hard soles of her blue pumps come to rest firmly on my chest and her sharp heels press against my shoulder blades. There was a strong scent of woman and Chanel perfume from her under parts. I had no idea what would happen next and I felt afraid. Arses are so much bigger than faces this close up - when they meet there is no contest.

After a few seconds she let fly a loud rasping fart and the fetid air struck me in the face. A short pause followed and there were two further farts like escaping compressed gas and I knew her stool would follow. She pressed down hard on me with the soles of her shoes and I watched in awe as her anal rim spread out wide and a big turd began to emerge slowly. It slid out like a fetid salami sausage - dangling down closer over my nose until it was about ten inches long when it broke free and fell across my mouth long and firm. Her anus closed and there was a few moments silence.

This first experience of being shat on and what must have been two day old dry feces lulled me into a sense of completely false security. So this was what it was like to be on the receiving end - I could take it after all! I gazed up at her orifice in fascination - was there anything else left there? A few moments later and I had my answer. The heels dug into my shoulders making me yelp with pain and all hell broke loose out of her bum. Hot brown soft ordure tumbled in a remorseless stinking flow from her backside, flying off in all directions and plastering my head with a bucketful of turds that built up into a deep cone over my whole face in moments. At that moment I finally understood what total submission felt like. I gagged and struggled and pleaded and a scared Frank said, "Jesus, watch out' you're plastering him and he can hardly breathe," but the feet pressed hard again and another avalanche of five or six hot turds landed over me as she strained for total evacuation.

After this climax Sue strained to release every last small turd but I was already so complexly shit on by her it made no difference. And then she did something I wasn't expecting. While she held me pinned hard between her heels, she produced a vibrator from her handbag and slipped it under the seat from the front into her moist vagina, her fingers feverishly working around her clitoris and masturbating herself feverishly a few inches from my face. She was so excited by dominating me in this way that she climaxed quickly and often, and on the third orgasm shot a last disgusting turd onto my forehead and urinated in a strong steaming fountain forwards and over my chest. Then she stood up and without looking down wiped her arse twice, hitched up her knickers and walked out of my life with never a glance backwards.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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