#i can only talk about kinks i actually have with minimal shame

[kuroo-hitsuji]

I am having a brainrot about topping beel and also size difference but I have no idea how it would be recieved🧍

[bradshawsbitch]

I’m sorry for not wording it better, I wasn’t trying to shame anyone and I understand it can be healing for some people! I’m just really scared (bout to get a bit vulnerable, i’m warning you). I’m afraid I’ll never be able to trust a man, and I mean that in every sense. You are much older than me, I’m only 19 and have never been in a relationship, so I’m sure you have a lot more experience and might think I’m a bit naïve. But I’m just afraid. It’s difficult for me to even word it properly, so I’ll keep it minimal not to risk saying something that might be misinterpreted. I see men all the time disregarding their partners, how much effort they put into housework, childcare, maintaining relationships with family. It happens every Mother’s Day, Christmas, and every day in general. And I’m scared that giving this type of control would end up really bad. I’m afraid that they’d take it too far, that they’d secretly enjoy the suffering (even if it’s just pretend) and non consensual part more than they actually care about their partner’s safety and well-being. I just can’t believe men who watch cnc porn enjoy anything other than the crying, screaming and desperation. Anyways, I’m just young and starting to live as an adult and i’m really scared.

oh, darling! my answer wasn't intended to make you feel bad at all. i just know that there has been so many people feeling like they're entitled to shit on people's writing and kinks if they get the 'go-ahead' from a blog they liked, and i really wanted to steer clear of that. you were not shaming at all, i was just being extra careful to let people know that everyone is allowed to like different things 🫶

and you are very brave to be vulnerable with me. I can say, you are definitely not alone. I am still afraid of being an adult, and like you said, I'm a fair couple of years older than you. I've had a couple of boyfriends, some better than others.

but girl, coming from a social worker who's just spent the last six months hearing the most god awful shit men (and women) can do... yes, some men are truly scary. they are scary every damn day, and the weaponized incompetence you explain so well is one of those aspects that makes me grind my fucking teeth. you're not naïve, and I am sorry if I made you feel less than, or if I made you feel as if your thoughts and emotions holds no weight because of your age, because that is not the truth. you are completely valid in your fears, and I won't tell you that 'you'll find someone and not all men are -- bla bla' because to be frank - maybe you won't. maybe i won't, or maybe we will.

you are right in thinking that maybe some men do enjoy that part, maybe some of them don't. but never ever compromise your safety or your feeling of comfort to appease anyone, okay? you own your choices, and your feelings and emotions, and you are very entitled to have all of these thoughts and emotions, without anyone trying to push you any which way, okay?

if you want to talk more, or if i've misinterpreted your ask, please feel free to dm me. i feel as if your reflections are keen and observant, and i wish you only safety and serenity<3

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝔻𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕖𝕤

___________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Bucky gets hit with that god awful (but really hot) sex pollen. (this was requested)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Dub-Con/Non-Con as per usual with sex pollens fics (although i try to write them as consensual as possible :T) Smut obvi (18+ minors dni), slight daddy kink, age gap?, public male masturbation; it's brief but still

TW: very brief mention of possible suicide

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hot

____________________

“Where are those daisies we collected from the last mission?” Tony asked you, eyes staying glued to the hologram in front of him.

“I left them on the quinjet. Fury said to wait for transportation until Shield confirms safety. It’s literally in a glass case, but whatever,” you rolled your eyes, making the older man laugh.

“Just protocol, kid,” he snickered.

Meanwhile Bucky sat with Steve eating lunch, chatting it up like old men do.

“So what did you bring back from the last mission? I saw a bunch of agents in hazmat suits,” Steve said sipping his coffee.

“Uh, well Thor said we should bring some plants back for research, but it seems like a bunch of normal lookin’ daisies,” Bucky shrugged.

“Y/n loves daisies,” Steve smirked.

“Ok?”

“And you love Y/n,” Steve teased.

“No I don’t-”

“Hey boys!” you skipped past the kitchen.

“Y/n,” Bucky said standing up with a big goofy smile on his face.

“Where ‘ya going?” Steve asked with a chuckle.

“Quinjet. Fury gave us the go to start doing tests on that plant you brought the other day,” you smiled lightly jogging to the runway.

“Why don't you ask her on a date, Buck,” Steve nudged.

“Come on, she’s way too smart to go out with a dumbass like me,” Bucky joked.

“Seriously.”

“I don’t know. It’s been years since I’ve talked to another woman. It doesn’t come naturally anymore. Wha- what’s even the first I’d say to her?”

“I don’t know, man. I’m on the same boat with you. Just… Tell how nice she looks today when she comes back.”

“Really?” Bucky asked skeptically.

“Yeah, be nice to her.”

“I am nice to her.”

“I mean be extra nice. Flatter her,” Steve told him, “Go wait in the lab until she comes back and tell her she looks pretty today.”

“Isn’t Tony in the lab?” Bucky asked.

“Ha ha, yeah,” Steve teased, patting his back before leaving to his room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony mumbled seeing Bucky waltzing in the room awkwardly.

“Nothing,” he mumbled back.

Tony dropped his hands and stared at Bucky with an unimpressed look on his face. Everyone but you knew about Barnes’ little boy crush on you but he’s never had the balls to say anything. You were close to Tony and seeing as though he doesn’t particularly like Bucky, he didn’t want you hanging around him. But you were an adult so of course you hung out with whoever you wanted.

He was sure you liked him back too which never ceased to make him roll his eyes.

You walked back from the quinjet with the glass container of daisies. You weren’t exactly a plant expert but it was apparent that these daisies were mutated seeing as though the pollen swirled around the flowers gracefully. It was beautiful but then again they might be extremely dangerous considering it was a Hydra experiment.

“Hey Y/n, off to the lab again?” Steve smiled.

“Yup, gotta check these babies out according to Thor; said they might be dangerous if they’re what he thinks they are,” you said, still walking.

“And what’s that?” you just shrugged at his question unsure of the answer yourself.

“Well, Bucky’s waiting for you in the lab,” he slipped in the conversation.

“Really? Why’s-” Crash!

“Oh no,” Tony mumbled, seeing the collision in action.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you stuttered.

“No, no. I should be sorry. Here let me help,” bucky knelt to the ground grabbed the fallen daisies with his bare hands.

“No! Don’t touch-” Tony shouted practically sprinting towards you two.

The golden pollen swirled in a misty manner engulfing Bucky completely. You stared with furrowed brows confused at the sight before you and what was going on. Bucky’s skin began to burn and his senses were being overloaded. All he could smell in that moment was you; the same scent that he got a whiff of this morning when he hugged you, the perfume and the shampoo that filled his senses when you walked passed him.

Tony pushed you out of the lab roughly throwing you in Steve’s arms who was just as confused.

“FRIDAY,” Tony called out.

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” the familiar voice answered.

“Lock all the doors to the lab and maybe turn on the a/c,” he commanded.

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

All the glass walls and doors instantly shut and locked, locking Bucky inside. Bucky’s eyes found your and slammed his body against the glass desperately trying to reach you. You too ran up to the glass wall trying to understand what had happened to him. Everything was happening so suddenly.

Your forehead was pressed against the glass as was Bucky’s; both of you staring into each other’s eyes momentarily. In that moment, you could see his eyes turn golden for a quick second before his pupils dilated ridiculously before your eyes.

“Is he going to be ok?” you turned away.

“Y/n! Please!” Bucky’s muffled screams shocked you.

“Uh… where’s Thor?” Tony panicked.

“What the hell is happening?” Nat asked; Sam, Wanda, and Vision trailing behind closely.

“Nat,” you ran to her.

“What happened to Bucky?” Same asked.

“He- I ran- I ran into him by a-accident and the box dropped. There was mist everywhere and Bucky's eyes. His eyes,” you stammered breathlessly.

“Please! I need her!” Bucky hit the glass in an attempt to break it.

“Oh my goodness,” Wanda gasped at the sweaty Bucky hitting and practically going feral.

“Oh god, is he gonna be ok?” you teared up. This is your fault, dammit.

“I can asure he will experience no physical harm,” Thor’s voice made all of you turn around.

“Just physically? What the hell does that mean?” Sam argued.

“Well, uh… I’ve never actually seen it’s effects in person. Especially not on a Midguardian…” his voice trailed off and his eyes grew big.

Nat snapped her head, eyes widening as well. Bucky with absolutely no shame held his hard dick in his hands pumping it with his eyes trained on you. You went to turn around seeing nat’s expression but she covered you eyes before you could actually see the lewd behavior Bucky indulged in.

“What’s happening?” you asked holding onto Nat as she led across the room.

“Nothing, they’re gonna take care of Buck. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly.

You sat in your room bouncing your leg as the movie on your TV played. Every now and then Bucky would moan and cry particularly loud making all of you wince and cringe. But your mind felt foggy simply thinking about Bucky and his safety; especially that moment when his eyes went from confusion to you don’t even know what. Hunger? Desire? Lust?

Whatever it was, it made your tummy flutter.

“Steve, any news on Bucky?” Steve stood at the doorway with a worrisome face that did nothing to ease your already panicked nerves.

“Well, as far as Thor knows the plant that was mutated with the daisies was pollen extracted from a breeding plant common among other galaxies; for species that can’t… reproduce like we do. The pollen enters the system and targets the nociceptors causing excruciating pain without physical harm. If untreated the victim can reach a traumatic state and truthfully, they will do anything to stop the pain; even kill themselves.”

“What the hell does any of that mean?” Sam grunted.

“It means the tin man is painfully horny,” Tony interrupted.

“Are you fucking serious?” Sam said in disbelief.

“What’s the cure?” Nat said.

“Oxytocin, of course,” Tony said.

“The cuddle hormone,” you whispered.

“Yup. Banner and I are already working on a serum containing artificial oxytocin in hopes to minimize the pain or even better cure him completely. We-”

“I’m afraid it’s going to be a bit more complicated than that,” Thor interrupted Tony.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, see the pollen, it’s a little tricky. The oxyputin-thingy you mentioned…”

“Oxytocin,” Tony clarified but Thor didn’t care too much.

“I don't think artificial love is going to cure the boy. If you want results, he needs to be the one he desires most. That’s where you’ll get your oxy-pudding.”

“Oxy- You know what, we can figure this out without anyone needing to have sex,” Tony groaned.

“Tony, maybe we shouldn’t-” you started.

“Nope, we can do this. We’re science bros,” Tony stormed away like a child.

“Isn’t your lab being ‘occupied’,” Nat called out.

“Shit!”

-

Hours went by and the oxytocin experiments were clearly a fail. The first dose did nothing. The second also nothing. The third relieved him for only ten seconds before he went back to his painful state. Since then, they haven’t been able to help or relieve Bucky’s circumstance any longer.

You thought about Thor’s words, about how the one he desires most could cure him. A ping of jealousy struck your heart but you knew you to find the woman Bucky loved and just pray that she'd help him. You made your way back to the lad area where Tony and Bruce had their new makeshift set up while the lab was locked down.

“Tony, this is ridiculous. It’s been going on for too long. You heard what Thor said about what happens when it gets too much,” you begged.

“And what do you suggest we do?” Tony said angrily.

“We need to find the woman that Bucky loves so she can help him,” you argued back.

“It's not just some woman, Y/n! He wants you.”

“What?”

“All the bastard’s been doing for the past eight hours has been masterbating while moaning your name. I’m not putting you in that situation,” Tony yelled.

You couldn’t speak. Was he telling you the truth? Did Bucky want you like that? The same way you secretly wanted him? It’s not like you haven't thought about what being with Bucky would be like before. He was perfect; so handsome and charming.

You ran back to your room where the rest of the guys still were practically out of breath; your heart hammering out of your chest and your stomach fluttering like it does whenever you think about Bucky.

“I need to get to Bucky,” you panted out.

“What?”

“Please you guys need to help me. Tony said that Bucky wants me; I mean can you believe. A guy like him wanting me? I’m just… nobody. He’s way too out of my league and-”

“Y/n, focus,” Nat said.

“Right. I- I want to help him. I know I can.”

“Y/n, we don’t know how dangerous this is. I mean, it came from Hydra, this could be weaponized and you could get hurt,” Steve argued.

“Bucky could never hurt me,” you whispered; Nat looked at you softly, understanding the situation better realizing you were probably Bucky’s only chance of a cure.

“You’re not actually considering letting her do this are you?” Steve scolded Nat.

"Are Tony and Bruce making any progress?" she sighed.

"They haven't been to even relieve his pain for longer than ten seconds," you whispered.

"Steve, this is Bucky we're talking about. Hasn't he endure enough torture in his life?" Nat said softly.

That seemed to convince him. Seeing Bucky in so much pain like he had been only years ago was unfair, especially when they technically already knew a cure. Waiting this out was pure evil at this point.

"How do you suppose we go about this?" he asked.

You devised a plan in order to let Bucky from the lab; he'd find his way to you on his own. Wanda stood from afar using her powers to tamper with the equipment. Tony frustratingly would have to run across the compound to the conference rooms to grab new devices in order to continue with his notes and tests.

On his way back, Steve and his convincing and charming ways would stall Tony's return asking him all sorts of questions about Bucky's state. Meanwhile, Thor made up some excuse to lure Banner away just for a minute so Nat and Sam could override the lockdown through Friday and free Bucky.

All the while you sat in your room waiting anxiously for Bucky to barge through the door and have his way with you.

A few minutes went by and no sign of a ruckus you'd assume would accompany the escape plan. You fiddled with the hem of your skirt biting your lip in anticipation. Still no sign after a couple more minutes. Wanting to make sure you still looked alright for Buck, although he'd probably not even acknowledge your appearance, you stood up to walk to your bathroom.

Just as you stood up, Bucky in all his muscle and broad glory slammed the door behind him staring at you with nothing but desperate hunger. Your stomach flipped when you saw him lock the door, pushing a small chair you had just next to it in front of the door under the handle.

He stalked towards practically panting and you took in his appearance. His hair was quite disheveled and sweat lined his forehead and slightly down his neck. Despite that, he still looked so handsome and sexy.

"маленький, all dressed up for me to ruin," he growled crawling up the bed as you crawled back.

"Buck, are you ok? I want to help you," you whispered.

"I'm more than ok now, beautiful," he whispered leaning into you, his nose brushing against yours, chuckling when you visibly trembled.

"Is my красивый маленький ангел gonna let me use her?" he whispered, huskily.

"Bucky, I don't understand what you're saying."

"так драгоценно," he whispered against your lips before pressing himself completely against you.

His hands, contrast between hot and cold, crept under your shirt brushing lightly over your delicate skin. You had somewhat expected Bucky to have no control and use you relentlessly, of which you wouldn't have minded, but this soft ginger foreplay was really making your panties wet.

Bucky slowly lifted the shirt from your body before tossing it to the side and removing his own. His hands cupped your breasts squeezing the soft flesh quite roughly making you sigh and moan at the feeling.

His lips attached themselves to your neck biting and sucking harshly littering your skin with dark purple marks. He nibbled on your ear as he grinding his pelvis against yours, his large erection poking your center making you even more aroused.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. It smelled just like you," he whispered.

"T- The daisies?"

"I've been craving you, aching for you. Thinking about how good you're gonna feel wrapped around my cock," he panted speeding up his grinding thrusts.

"Buck," you breathed out.

Bucky shuddered over you before stilling for a moment. He couldn't help it, your scent, your warm skin pressed against his, he couldn't hold back anymore coming straight away in his pants.

You brushed his hair softly soothing him from his high. You thought it was over, that he felt better and was finally cured but almost instantly you felt Bucky harden under you, poking between your thighs and you gasped knowing very well it was going to be a long night.

Bucky stood on his knees and pulled your bottoms down your legs nearly ripping the material. He too rid his bottoms throwing them god knows where before climbing back on top of you. You stared adorably up at him and Bucky almost came again. He smiled softly at you before kissing you once more.

Suddenly, loud bangs on your door startled you but not Bucky.

"What the hell are you doing!" Tony screamed.

"Tony, you gotta stop! This is the only way! It's not fair to him to let him keep suffering. He's done enough of that, ok?" Nat shouted.

"She's gonna get hurt," Tony sighed.

"No she won't. This was her idea."

Tony looked back teary eyed. He really cared for you as his own and putting you in a situation like this wasn't fair to you either. He really tried to help but this was just too complicated and too advanced to solve in only a few hours. They were right, Bucky needed you as much as he didn't like that idea too much.

"Fine."

Bucky lined his cock with your entrance wrapping your legs around his waist. Slowly he pushed in pulling moans from you both. You've only had a couple lovers previous to Bucky but neither of them ever filled you so perfectly. Bucky stretched you out like none other and admittedly he wanted to use his fingers on you first but he'd been away for too long it was too painful to go another second without being inside you.

"So tight and warm, little one. Feel so fucking good wrapped around me."

"Buck," you moaned.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him impossibly closer to you as you kissed along his neck and jaw. Bucky moaned breathlessly in your ear and you couldn't help the clenching around him from arousal.

"Fuck, keep doing that, little one," he groaned.

Toy squeezed your thighs together and clenched around him again making him groan louder this time. His thrusts became sporadic and you moved against like a ragdoll unable to keep up with his relentless pace.

Your legs began to shake and your back arched into his chest reaching you first high of the night, gushing all over his cock. You realize he hasn't come and gently push him off you before flipping over to let him take you again from behind.

As expected, Bucky pushed into once again deeper this time and you shuddered under his hand that rested atop your arched back. Bucky smacked and kneaded your ass thrusting in and out. The lewd squelching sound of his thrust mixed with the sound of skin slapping against each other echoed in the room.

"Shit, little one. Taking my cock so fucking well," he reached forward and bunch up your hair pulling your head back harshly.

“Shit,” you mumbled.

Your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sheets as hard as you could. You were approaching your orgasm quickly and you weren't going to be able to hold back any longer. Your pussy clenched around Bucky's cock making him throw his head back in pleasure.

"Please, Bucky," you whimpered.

"You wanna come, darling. You wanna cream all over daddy's cock?"

"Yes! Fuck!" your arms shook before giving out completely; your head buried in the sheets as Bucky continued that same wild and rough pace.

"Please let me come, daddy!"

Your body felt on fire. No one has ever made you feel this good before, it was almost too much, too overwhelming. Tears brimmed your eyes from trying to desperately hold back. You wanted to come with Bucky but seeing as his pace had yet to slow down you were beginning to think he wasn't even close.

"Let go, doll."

Your body squirmed beneath him as you released all over his dick. You came with a near shout, your body violently trembling from the intensity of your high. Bucky slowed his pace for your comfort, gently riding your orgasm slowly down despite his still aching erection.

He languidly rolled you over to your back, his hands softly rubbing your sides up to your breasts. You breathed heavily, eyes feeling droopy, all you could feel in that moment was his cum dripping from you onto the sheets.

Bucky, still knelt on the bed and still chasing his release, lifted your legs over his thighs gripping your hip with one hand and his cock with the other. You squeezed your thighs together when you felt his tip poking at your entrance once again, soft whimpers emitting from you shakily.

"Such a good girl. Gonna let me take you again? Gonna let me keep using you?" he moaned.

"Use me, Buck. I'm all yours," you breathed out.

Bucky pushed himself past your folds once again, your cum easily letting him slide in. Both his hands made home on your hips gripping hardly surely to leave marks for you to remember this very moment. You looked at Bucky as his thrusts slowly began to pick up, bringing your own hands to your breasts to play with your nipples. You twisted the perked buds, moaning softly at the feeling as well as Bucky filling you perfectly once again.

"Filling me up so good, baby," you moaned, arching your back slightly allowing Bucky to hit a newer and deeper angle inside you.

"Pussy was fucking made for me," he growled.

His hand moved from its home on your hip right over your lower belly where he could feel his cock so deep poking his own hand through your tummy.

"Feel how fucking deep I am?"

You moved your hand and he pressed yours in the same spot under his and you moaned loudly, shuddering under him.

His pace quickened and for a moment he thought he was going to finally reach his high, that release he'd been thinking about for hours today, but when he felt you clench again, squeezing his cock tightly and he didn't cum, he knew it was gonna be chase that he didn't know you'd be up for. You gushed all over his dick, back arching and your legs pressing tight around his torso, coming with a loud scream of his name.

Bucky fell forward with tears in his eyes. His skin still felt hot and sticky. His sense felt dialed up to an eleven. It was all so overwhelming and all he wanted was to cum in you and hold you closer whispering how he really loved you. He pressed faint kisses to you equally sticky and warm skin and when you felt warm liquid dripping onto your skin to lift Bucky's head to find him crying.

"What's wrong, baby?"

“I can’t cum. I just wanna cum,” he whined.

“Hey, hey. It’s ok. I can go as many times as you need me to. I want to help you, let me do that.”

“Can- Can you uh… use your mouth please? I want to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my cock so bad,” he moaned.

“Of course, baby. I’d do anything for you,” you smirked before pushing him and crawling over him holding his dick in your hand.

-

Hours and literally hours had passed until Bucky was finally tired out only having cum three times compared to the fifteen-plus times you had. Your bed laid on the ground; the wooden stands snapped about two hours ago. Most of your sheets were torn to shreds and marks littered your body from your neck down to your hips and your knees from, well you know.

Your body shook as you laid in a fetal position. You burned between your thighs; the soreness overwhelming but pleasant at the same time. Sweat made what was left of the sheets stick to your body until Bucky pulled them from you to clean you. He used a warm towel all over your body with tears in his eyes whispering how sorry he was about everything.

“I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m so sorry. I understand if you hate me now; if you never want to see me again. Just know that I’m so sorry about your bed, the blankets, if I hurt you, everything,” he sniffled, eyes and nose red and puffy.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice raspy and croaky from your moaning and screaming all night.

“Y/n,” he whispered back. You pulled him by the back of his neck into a soft yet passionate kiss.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed out when you pulled away. You cupped his face with shaky hands but a smile on your face.

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. I’ve dreamt about holding you far too many times, more than I’d like to admit. I should’ve told you sooner but like everyone else, I was scared you didn’t like me back; at least not this way,” he rubbed your legs indicating the intimate love he had for you.

“Buck, it’s virtually impossible for anyone not to fall in love with you. Unless they’re Tony,” you giggled as did he.

“Can you say it?” he asked softly.

“That I love you?” you smiled brushing your nose against his; Bucky practically purred as he nodded.

“I love you, James,” you whispered.

“Fuck, I love you too.”

He laid you down softly again on the broken bed pressing light kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders. You brushed his hair with your fingers as he clung onto you ready to sleep.

“Thank you again, doll. For helping me today,” he said after a couple minutes of silence.

“Of course, my love. Besides I’m the one who ran into you with those damn daisies.”

“Thank god for them then. And for your clumsiness,” Bucky chuckled.

“Meanie,” you snorted, making Bucky laugh even more.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@wandanatasha0720

Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Oo oo could u do a thrawn nsfw head cannon? If u haven't already?

A/N: You’re actually the first.  Let’s see what we can do for my favorite Grand Admiral.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Thrawn is always so careful with you.  His voice becomes low and soft, praising you as he helps clean you up.  He doesn’t want you anywhere else, but by his side.  He doesn’t care if you’re room is just down the hall, you’re staying with him for the rest of the night.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your eyes. He loves catching every stray emotion.  He loves the way they shine when you smile and gloss over in want when he fucks you.  He could cum just by looking in your eyes alone.

As for himself, he likes his arms. He knows they’re strong and he loves how easily he can lift you into them. He knows how you watch them while he trains and you cling to them as he takes you. He has every reason in the galaxy to appreciate them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves to cum inside you more than anything.  For one, he doesn’t like leaving a mess and prefers an unimpeded view of your skin.  But, more importantly he feels it’s a way of truly prooving you’re his. He’s the one making you feel this way.  It’s your body clenching around him, begging for his seed.  And don’t even get him started on the sight of his cum leaking out of you pussy when he finally pulls out.  It’s enough to get him going all over again.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Thrawn takes great pride of having control over himself and his body.  The one time he fully lost control wasn’t long after meeting you.  You had gotten close too him.  He could smell the sent of your hair and detected the infrared glow of heat from your cheeks. You had spoken formally, but softly in a tone that was leaving him reeling. 

He all but ran to his quarters at the first opportunity and ran a cold shower.  But, even that couldn’t stop the different scenarios of your legs wrapped around his waist.  He had to take care of himself then and there or else he was going to burst.

He felt some shame at that, not from his thoughts of you, but his lack of reserve.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He actually has a rather limited experience.  My personal headcanon is that the Chiss are pretty culturally strict when it comes to sex.  So, having sexual relations outside of marriage is a bigger deal.  He’s had only one or two partners before you.  But, he doesn’t go into anything without doing at least some research.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where he can see your eyes.  Even if he takes you from behind, he’ll make you turn your head to look at him.  He wants to know what you’re feeling even if you can’t voice it.  He wants to see what he’s doing to you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Thrawn is always serious when it comes to your pleasure.  His full concentration is on you.  He’s not going to be the one to break the tension.  Although, he’s not one to pass up an opportunity at a smug dry remark.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Hair is kept to a minimal, manageable level.  And yes, the carpet does match the drapes; all dark blue black down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As I’ve said in previous headcanons, Thrawn has an extremely difficult time being vulnerable around people.  Sex is by it’s nature a vulnerable act, it leaves you exposed.  So, the fact Thrawn even wants to have sex with you is a huge sign of trust, and he wants to show you how much it means to him.  He makes love to you every time you’re together, plain and simple.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As I’ve said before, Thrawn takes pride in having control over his body and impulses.  So, he keeps the jacking off to a minimum.  Even after years of not having a partner, he doesn’t really feel the urge to.  And when he’s with a partner, he wants to save his lust for them, not his hand.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Mirror Sex. It has everything he loves with the added benefit of you being able to see yourself as well.  He loves watching your eyes widen at the sight of his cock disappearing into your pussy. God, the sounds he makes.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His quarters on The Chimera. It’s a place where he feels most comfortable and in control.  It’s where his own power comes from with the added benefit of no interruptions short of imminent attack.  Nobody is going to disturb a Grand Admiral unless someone was literally dying.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Competency.  Any time you can prove just how capable you are, whether it be intellectually or physically, sends a thrill down his spine.  He cannot wait to get you back into his bed to show you just how awe-inspiring you truly are.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Verbal humiliation, from either him or you.  Insults to him and his capabilities are only going to get him frustrated and not in a sexy way.  And he cannot bring himself to humiliate you.  He’ll tie you up if you like it.  Spank you if you ask, but he’s not going to degrade you in anyway.  He doesn’t get it and he doesn’t like it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves giving.  If I haven’t made it clear, he takes pride in your pleasure.  He can get off just at the sounds you make under him, knowing he’s the one making you feel this way.  He’ll stay between your legs for hours, making you cum again and again until your trembling and begging him to stop.  He might not have much experience, but he learns fast.

That all being said, there’s something about you on your knees, looking up with him, praising him for all that he’s given you and asking if you can give him something in return.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual is his general M.O.  He wants to make the experience last for as long as possible.  But, if you ask, he’ll take you as roughly as you like.  It’s all a matter of what will give you the most satisfaction.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his thing.  Like, really not his thing.  He doesn’t want to risk a quick escapade in his office and he’s not going to degrade himself to a supply closet.  It’s either your room or his, and if you’re already there, you might as well take your time.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Thrawn is willing to try different things, so long as he’s given the time to prepare and read up on whatever it is you want to try.  And so long as it’s not anything degrading either for you or for him. And if it’s private.  He has a reputation with his crew he needs to uphold.  His private life is private for a reason.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man has amazing stamina.  He might only get off once or twice, but he can go for hours, holding off his own climax while he gets you off an average of three to five times between his tongue, fingers, and cock, if not more.  You’re not sure if it’s a Chiss thing or a Thrawn thing.  Either way, he’s not done with you until you either beg him to stop or pass out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No toys unless you explicitly talk about it before hand as part of an experiment.  Call it pride, but Thrawn wants to do all the work himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He tries to tease you.  He really does.  He tries to keep you on edge, but as soon as your moans and pleads leave your lips, he’s gone.  He has to give you what you want.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not that noisy, unless his whispering praises in your ear in a mix of basic and Cheunh.  Mostly it’s heavy breathing broken up by grunts and soft curses.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Thrawn never really thought of having children before you.  His mind was always focused on what the Ascendeny required of him and then the Empire.  The idea of having something for his own never occurred to him.  But, there are times after you make love with you in his arms he wonders what might happen if you got pregnant.  The thought of you carrying his child is almost enough for him to wake you up and try for one in earnest.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

The man is hung and you cannot convince me otherwise. Again, unsure if it’s a Chiss thing or a Thrawn thing, but he’s certainly longer and thicker than the average human.  Not to mention completely blue with his cock turning a kind of purple at the tip when aroused.  It’s going to be nearly impossible to go back to humans after him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not very high.  He’s able to keep his more erotic thoughts to a minimum and even if he can’t help it, he’s able to put them safely away until later.  However, when he does get in the mood, you better clear your schedule.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a while to fall asleep.  He doesn’t need that much sleep period and sex doesn’t exhaust him the way it does for others.  You’re more likely to dose off first before his eyes are even heavy.

[vee-angel]

Potty-Mouth Piper (part 3, repost)

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series)

Content Warning: The following story contains depictions of feces, flatulance, vomit, and mucus; with most being eaten. Also, just some absolutely depraved examples of hand-holding, kissing, cuddling, and heartfelt declarations of lesbian teenage love.

Also, this finishes out Chapter One of Piper’s story. Her next appearance will be when her story intersects with another member of the Pervert Pentet (Sharking Sherry, who’s one of the last two members to be introduced).

Part 3

Piper spent the next few weeks in the psych ward; Mackenzie visited as often as she was able. She couldn’t get enough of seeing Piper’s face light up every time she saw her. She had even scouted some nearby stores to see if she could find the same puzzle that Piper had been working on when she first visited her in the hospital. When she finally found it and presented the gift, Piper seemed so touched that she actually held back tears. The green-haired filth-fetishist was smiling ear to ear as they were finally able to complete the puzzle together.

“Together” may be an overstatement. In truth, Piper did well over ninety percent of it, mostly while explaining the geometry of irregular tessellations in jigsaw puzzles and something about how the pieces could be categorized by pattern… or something. Mackenzie honestly couldn’t follow when she started going on about things like that, but she loved seeing how happy it made her to have someone who actually listened to her ramblings. She learned a lot about Piper in those few weeks; one of the most surprising things is that the mohawked, foul-mouth punk was really, REALLY smart.

It took a few awkward conversations for Mackenzie to get her parents to believe that she kept visiting because she just sincerely liked Piper. They weren’t the type to pry much, but at first it seemed like they believed that she felt sorry for the green-haired girl, or that it was part of her learning to forgive Piper for what had happened during the school assembly. She had to be clear that she really just thought Piper was interesting and sweet, and that despite her “behavioral problems” she might want to start dating her once she was released from the mental hospital.

When that day finally came, Mackenzie wanted to spend every moment with her and finally get a chance to do more than talk with her in the visiting room of a hospital. Unfortunately, Piper explained that she wanted some time to smooth things over with her mom, first. A few agonizingly long days later, Mackenzie finally got a text saying that Piper’s mom was okay with them having a sleepover! She still felt like this was all some kind of fantasy! As if all the disgusting porn she’d watched online over the last few years congealed into this perfectly vulgar woman who was too good, too dirty, too pretty to be real. There were even times where she considered that maybe she was spending so much time in a mental hospital because Piper was a delusion, a fantasy she made up to help the shy girl act out all of her obscene secret desires.

But as she approached the brick ranch-style house where Piper lived, she knew it was all real. She walked up the steps and rang the doorbell, her heart racing with anticipation. Her tension grew a bit when she saw that it was Piper’s mother who answered the door. She had heard mostly good things about Miss Lindeholm, but she couldn’t help but be a little bit intimidated now that she knew she was a professional dominatrix.

Mackenzie was invited inside where she barely had time to set down her overnight bag before she saw a grinning Piper barreling toward her. Their chests collided as she threw her arms around her and squeezed. Mackenzie couldn’t help but giggle at the unrestrained eagerness. She returned the hug and couldn’t keep her heart from fluttering as her hands touched Piper’s bare skin. She wore a threadbare black tank top that had been cut off at the bottom of her ribs and a plaid mini-skirt. At the hospital, they hadn’t been permitted to touch very much, and the pajama-like outfit almost made her forget how delicately slender Piper’s body was. If she were a couple inches taller, she could have been a runway model.

Piper’s mom watched with a slight smirk for several seconds as the two girls embraced. “All right, you’ll have plenty of time for that later. I’d like to talk to Mackenzie now. Please give us the room, Piper.” Her tone seemed pleasant, but firm. Though that didn’t do much to assuage Mackenzie’s nervousness.

As they reluctantly pulled away from each other, Mackenzie caught Piper’s eyes. The worried expression on her face prompted Piper to explain, “No, it’s cool. My mom’s rad as fuck. She just wants to make sure I’m not, like, blackmailing you with pictures of you sucking a dog’s dick or something.”

“What?? Oh! Oh gosh, no.” She turned to the older woman, “No, it’s nothing like that, Ma’am. I really, really like Piper.”

“All the same, I’d like Piper to excuse us so that we can talk.” Miss Lindeholm led Mackenzie to a sleek looking leather and metal couch in the living room that faced a glass coffee table. A slightly dejected Piper made her way to what looked like the kitchen.

Mackenzie sat next to the professionally dressed blonde woman. “I sense you’re nervous, Mackenzie,” she began in a kind voice as she took her hand, “but I promise you that you’re safe. If my daughter has said or done anything to compel you to come here or to have a relationship with her, you can tell me and I’ll protect you.” There was something about her that almost immediately instilled trust, there was an effortless confidence that was also nurturing. Mackenzie supposed that was part of what made her a good dominatrix.

She took a deep breath to try to still her nerves before responding. “I really, really, REALLY like your daughter, Ma’am. I… Well I guess I’ve only ever told her this, but umm, I fantasized about things like this a lot for a long time before I met Piper. And I would look at… umm… ya know… scat porn.” Mackenzie’s face scrunched up and turned beet red for a moment as she realized that she’d just told her friend’s mom that she’d been looking at scat porn on the internet for years. She tried to power through it, “So, Piper is just sort of like all my… fetishes, and everything else I ever fantasized about. All put together.”

There was a momentary pause before Piper’s mom spoke, “Okay. I’m very happy to hear that, Mackenzie. To be honest, I was skeptical that the things Piper was telling me about you were true. She almost never lies, but she also can’t tell when other people are lying to her. So a part of me was worried that you were playing a trick on her. But I’m very relieved by what you’ve told me. Piper has mentioned to you that I’m a sex-worker, correct?”

“Yes, Ma’am. She said you’re a professional mistress?”

“That’s right. I get the sense that you feel hesitant in talking about your fetishes, but I want you to know that you won’t be judged in this household for any of those feelings. It’s okay to be sexually aroused by touching or eating shit, or watching others touch or eat shit. It’s actually a lot more common than most people would believe. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Mackenzie thought for a moment about what she’d just heard. Obviously no one had ever said that to her before, as she was only the second person to even know about her fetish, but she’d also never had anyone tell her that it was okay. She never thought of herself as someone who held a lot of shame for her kink, yet somehow, it was as if she felt the release of a huge burden that she didn’t even know she was carrying. After briefly getting lost in thought, she realized that Miss Lindeholm was still sitting there waiting for a response. “No, Ma’am.” she took a deep breath to steady her resolve and then released it, “Miss Lindeholm, it really turns me on watching girls eat poop. And I want to eat poop, too… because I think it’s a really sexy thing to do.” She let out a tiny giggle after she finished her admission. “I can’t believe I really said that to you! It actually feels really…relieving, I guess!”

“I’m glad. Being able to communicate about what turns you on is important. And so is consent. If you’re going to have a relationship with my daughter, I want to talk to you about some things. Given the things Piper likes to do, there’s a bit of a unique ‘sex talk’ that’s specific for her.

“But first, the basics: Remember that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Anything you do with a partner should be because you both want to be doing it. Now relationships are complex, and consent is complex. But a good rule of thumb is that ‘no’ means no, ‘maybe’ means no, and only ‘fuck yes’ means yes. What that means is that you should both be enthusiastic about the sex acts you engage in. If you perform certain activities solely because the other person wants you to, it eventually causes problems in your relationship. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. Now getting into specifics: First, Eating feces runs a high risk of making you sick at first. It is possible for your digestive system to adapt, god knows Piper is evidence of that, but if you choose to engage in that fetish, you should go slowly at first. I’ve left a bottle of medicine in Piper’s room to help minimize the chance of you becoming ill, you should take one every twelve hours for a couple of days, even if you don’t feel like anything is wrong. Second, urine is mostly safe to drink, but keep in mind that your body will be filtering it a second time when you swallow it. So as sexy as you might find it to only drink each others piss, over time it can put an unhealthy strain on your kidneys.

“So to sum up, you can drink piss every day, but you still need to drink real water to stay healthy. And you can work up to eating shit every day, but you need to be careful, and you’ll still need real food. Do you have any questions, Mackenzie?”

She sat for a moment taking it all in. While the brief lecture from a women she barely knew was, without a doubt, unfathomably awkward, Mackenzie also found it really helpful. Not only because of the information, but because of the assurance that while she was in this house, she could feel like she was normal. This woman had explained the risks of trying to drink nothing but Piper’s piss with more comfort and ease than her own mother did when she explained why she shouldn’t flush tampons. “No, Ma’am. No questions. Umm, thank you for all that, though. Can I see Piper now?”

She released Mackenzie’s hand that she’d been gently cradling through the conversation and gave a small nod. As she stood up, she saw Piper eagerly stride into the room; apparently she’d been eavesdropping the whole time. “Okay, cool. So I made dinner for you and me. My mom doesn’t like when I make food for her because I always put the food in my ass first, but you said that’s something you wanted to try?”

“Yes!” Mackenzie replied enthusiastically. Piper took her gently by the wrist and led her into the kitchen. She was increasingly noticing that Piper’s home had a very sterile, modern look to it. Best she could tell, her mom ordered all their home furnishings from a Sharper Image catalogue.

The two of them finally came to be in front of a large bowl of green goo that had been set on the marble countertop. Next to it was a enormous tube with a plunger that Mackenzie recognized from her videos as an enema syringe. “So I made us split pea soup. It looks gross as shit, but it tastes really good. Also, it makes you fart a lot. I thought about squirting it up my asshole before you came over, but I figured you’d probably want to watch that part. Oh! And it’s vegetarian.”

Mackenzie had revealed that her family didn’t eat meat during their conversations at the hospital over the last few weeks, so she appreciated the consideration. In fact, she was impressed with the amount of thought Piper had put into everything. She gave an joyful nod of approval and then watched Piper suck up a large quantity of the bright green sludge into the enema syringe.

“Here.” Piper said with a confident smile as she handed the large tube to Mackenzie. For a moment, Mackenzie almost looked confused. Piper smirked and gave a confident shrug, “Figured you’d want to do the honors and fill up my fart-hole.”

Mackenzie gasped gently in awe, and then nodded her head excitedly. Piper leaned over onto the counter and flipped up the back of her skirt. She used one hand to pull her ass apart, but in truth it was unnecessary; while Piper’s ass had a pleasant roundness to it, the long, lean girl’s butt was rather small, and her cheeks readily parted to reveal her little pink anus and shaved vulva as soon as she bent past forty-five degrees.

“You don’t have to do anything special, just stick the end in and push that part on top down slowly.” Mackenzie nodded in response to Piper’s instructions. She took a deep breath and lined up the tip of the big acrylic tube. She pushed and felt Piper’s asshole give minimal resistance; the actual tip was about two inches long, and once it was all the way in, she noticed the girl’s sphincter clench around it to create a tight seal. As Mackenzie began to push down the plunger, she considered how practiced Piper must be at this. After all, she was so dedicated to ass to mouth that she had it tattooed on the side of her head. Though the tattoos had recently become slightly obscured by the yellow stubble that had grown during her stay in the psych ward.

“Do you really do this with everything you eat?” Mackenzie asked as she gingerly pumped the tasty green slurry into her friend’s bowels.

“Well with soup and stew and that kinda shit, yeah,” she began casually, as if she weren’t actively receiving a warm pea-soup enema from a conservatively dressed teen redhead, “Other stuff I just need to make sure it’s dick-shaped like baguettes or wraps or carrots. And there are things you can kinda stuff up there like french fries or scrambled eggs, and big things like pizza I just tear into pieces and shove up my ass a piece at a time.”

“Wow.” She had talked to Piper about her compulsion to only ever eat things that had been inside someone’s asshole (normally her own, purely out of convenience), but that had been so abstract before now. “Why…” she began the question hesitantly, “I mean, why do you do it?”

“Uhh, because I’m fuckin’ awesome?” Mackenzie giggled girlishly at Piper’s response.

“I think it’s empty now.” she noted as she finished emptying their soon to be dinner up the girl’s shitter.

“Okay, pull it out slowly.” Piper’s asshole immediately clenched shut to trap the liquid inside her as Mackenzie withdrew the enema syringe. She stood up and began massaging her slightly distended abdomen. “Seriously, though, I had the idea a long time ago, and I think I’m probably the only person in the world who does this. I mean, if you read fantasies about people being full toilet slaves, there’s a bunch of people who fantasize about eating nothing but shit for their whole lives. But it’s not medically possible; there are things your body needs and doesn’t excrete, so if you only eat shit you eventually end up with serious nutritional deficiencies. But if I do it this way, then even if I’m not always eating shit, I’m always eating something that someone shit out of their ass.”

“So… you’re kinda like the number one scat-girl in the whole world?” Mackenzie asked, excitement slightly overtaking her timid manner.

“Fuckin’ awesome, right??”

“Totally awesome.” She replied as Piper placed a green bowl on the floor and squatted over it. Mackenzie was transfixed as she watched her friend skillfully dispense the thick green soup from her asshole. She’d watched plenty of videos of girls getting food enemas (milk or whipped cream seemed most common), normally it would come out in squirts and sputters, but Piper may as well have been a mechanical food dispenser as smoothly as she plopped the ass-slime into the bowl. It just reinforced the idea that Piper was a queen of filth; the girls in videos only did those kinds of things for porn. But Piper did them every day.

The first bowl was full and she clenched her hole briefly as she switched to the second bowl. She repeated the process of dispensing split pea soup with a wet plopping sound. It only took about thirty seconds for her to fill both. She kept her legs wide as she stood almost all the way up into a half-squat. She grabbed a paper towel and began to move it toward her backside to clean the last residue of the green goo.

“Wait!” Mackenzie shouted, probably too loudly, while grabbing Piper’s wrist. “Can I…? I mean…can we use my tongue to be toilet paper… for you?” She was embarrassed by the awkward phrasing, but she was proud of herself for being bold enough to ask.

Piper nodded with surprise and approval, before bending forward to grab her ankles. Mackenzie hesitantly squatted down behind her, staring at the few specks of green still sticking to her anal ring. She finally stuck out her tongue and launched her face at Piper’s butt. She almost knocked the skinny girl off balance with her eagerness, but grabbed onto the front of her hips to steady her. She gave one long, hard lick from the back of Piper’s pussy all the way to the top of her ass-crack. She swallowed hard with a tight-lipped grin as the other girl turned around to face her.

“You make really good toilet paper.” For a moment, Piper’s big grin seemed almost coy. Anyone looking at the two young women at that moment would know that they were lovestruck, in that special and charmingly awkward way that only teenagers can be.

Piper picked up the two bowls before spending a few moments getting lost in Mackenzie’s cerulean-blue eyes. She took a quick breath and let it out sharply to focus herself before handing a bowl to Mackenzie. “Okay, we should go to the dining room. My mom’s probably getting tired of waiting.”

She handed one of the bowls to Mackenzie and the two of them headed into the next room where Piper’s mother sat patiently at the head of a rectangular table in front of what appeared to be a chef’s salad that had been prepared by a high-end food delivery service.

“Sorry we took so long, Mom.” Piper said as the she and Mackenzie sat next to each other at one side of the table.

“It’s perfectly all right. Mackenzie is experiencing a lot of new things, and there’s no need to rush her.” She picked up her fork and stabbed the salad a few times, collecting the different elements into a single bite. Piper dipped her spoon into the butthole-flavored soup that had been freshly prepared.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness as Mackenzie bowed her head and clasped her hands, briefly whispering a quick prayer of gratitude before eating. When she opened her eyes, she could tell by the slightly uncomfortable smiles that her dining companions were unaccustomed to the ritual. She couldn’t honestly blame them; a sex-worker and a lesbian scatgirl no doubt had experiences where they’d run afoul of some of the less progressive followers of Christ.

“So how did you become a professional mistress, Miss Lindeholm?” Mackenzie asked to break the tension. She reverently brought the first spoon-full of pea-soup to her mouth as the older woman began to answer.

“Well, hmm, where to begin.” she mused to herself briefly. “My family moved here from Sweden just before I started high-school. Being a tall, pretty blonde with a foreign accent meant that I became something of an obsession for the boys at school. Even at that age, I could tell that I was more of a fetish for them, so rather than ending up with a boyfriend, my interactions were more… transactional.”

“Transactional?” Mackenzie thought she knew what the word meant, but she wanted to be sure.

“It means that we were each trading things we wanted from the other, dear. I would get gifts and favors, and the boys would get what they wanted. As an example, the going rate was five dollars to flash my breasts for five seconds.” she said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“That’s… like a dollar a second!”

Piper’s mom flashed an amused grin at the shy redheads excitement. “Eventually they started doing bigger and bigger things for me and expecting more in return, which is how I ended up pregnant with Piper my Junior year. My parents were furious but they couldn’t disown me while I was a minor, so they kicked me and Piper out of the house when I turned eighteen. Piper was almost two at the time. We were briefly homeless, and the only way I knew how to make money was to let boys pay to do what they wanted with my body. It was… difficult for a few years but I kept working until I could charge more and more.. Eventually I trained to be a pro-domme, and now I run my own dungeon where I make a lot of money, and I get to tell everyone else what to do.” She finished her story with a proud smile.

“Wow!” was all Mackenzie said. She had been so obsessed with Piper, she had hardly taken the time to appreciate what an impressive woman her mother was. And beautiful, too. The golden-haired scandinavian beauty should be around thirty-five by Mackenzie’s math, but she had a timeless quality that could easily have allowed her to pass for ten years younger.

She turned her focus to the bowl of food that she’d been absentmindedly slurping as she listened to Miss Lindeholm’s brief recap of her life, taking the time to really enjoy the flavor. It was good! Comfortingly warm with all the right spices in subtle combinations, and a slightly earthy flavor that she suspected (hoped) came from its brief time inside Piper’s ass.

“What about your parents, Mackenzie. What do they do?”

She briefly glanced over to see Piper smiling widely as she ate, she seemed happy to see her two favorite women bonding with one another. She turned back, “Well, my father writes early chapter books for elementary and middle-school kids. He does a lot of ‘choose-your-own-adventure’ stories, ‘cus he says that if people learn how to make decisions when they’re young, they’ll be better at it when they grow up.”

“And that’s how your parents raised you?” she asked as she popped another mouthful of the crisp salad into her mouth.

“Mhm! My parents always tried to let me make my own decisions. I guess that’s why I never really went through a rebellious phase. Oh, and my mom does arts and crafts. She sews and knits and crochets, she even draws and paints sometimes, too. She illustrated a couple of my dad’s books, and she makes most of my clothes. She’s kind of a workaholic.”

Around that time she heard Piper reaching the bottom of her soup. She hadn’t said much, but she seemed content, if slightly eager to move the evening toward the fun part.

Mackenzie, sensing Piper’s eagerness, rushed to finish her own soup. Piper finally spoke up, “Okay, mom. We’re done, can we be excused now?”

“Oh, but I’m having such a nice time talking with your new friend.” her mom teased. “We have ice-cream for dessert, you know.”

“I’m lactose intolerant.” Mackenzie interjected.

Piper’s eyes widened, “Wait, really??”

“Yeah?”

“Well, like, does it hurt you, or are you just like… PPFFFTTT!!” Piper ended her sentence by making a vulgar, simulated fart noise with her mouth.

Mackenzie blushed for a moment, finally grasping the reason for Piper’s excitement. She looked up to catch Piper’s expectant gaze. “We should have ice cream.” she giggled.

“Can we have dessert in my room, Mom? Please?” Piper pleaded.

Miss Lindeholm sighed with a smile, knowing there was no point in trying to keep the scat-addicted lesbian love-birds apart. “Okay, sweetheart. Just keep everything contained to your room.”

Piper leapt up from her chair and ran to the kitchen. She returned a moment later holding a pint of ice-cream and a spoon before she grabbed Mackenzie by the wrist and pulled her excitedly down the hall.

The happy duo reached the threshold of the bedroom, but Mackenzie felt her foot catch on something in the doorway. They tripped and she tumbled to the floor on top of Piper. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

The two of them stood up, realizing that maybe they should tone down their excitement just a tad. “It was my fault,” Piper began with a contrite smile, “I forgot to warn you about the edge. I always used to think that if I ever had someone over that I should remember to tell them that it’s a tripping hazard, and now I finally have someone here and I forgot.”

Mackenzie looked down to see what she’d tripped over, and realized that there was a lip coming up about two inches separating the floor of Piper’s room from the rest of the house. Furthermore, while most of the house was floored with an elegant grey carpet, Piper’s room seemed to be lined with a sturdy, off-white linoleum. The furniture, she realized, was all either on legs, or raised a few inches off the ground with risers. “Do you…” she began piecing together the reason for the odd decor, “pee and poop on the floor?”

“Not just on the floor!” Piper responded excitedly as she motioned over to the bed, placing the ice-cream on a nightstand. “Feel it.” she said, offering a piece of what appeared to be oddly thick black sheets. Upon examining the material, she realized that it felt somewhat like a wet-suit. The mattress covering and pillowcases seemed to all be made of the same soft, yet waterproof material.

Every time Mackenzie thought she had a grasp on the intensity of Piper’s filth fetish, she showed her a new dimension. This, she thought, truly takes the cake. Piper’s entire bedroom was designed to be used as a toilet!

She almost couldn’t conceive of someone whose life was that dedicated to a filth fetish. She couldn’t believe that Piper’s mom had been so accepting! This actually required pretty major renovations of the house!

“Oh, and check this out.” Piper continued as she opened a door that Mackenzie had previously assumed was a closet, “Ta-da! Private bathroom.” She looked inside to see a sink and bathtub, but where she expected the toilet to go was a stacked washer/dryer combo. There also seemed to be an industrial wet-vac against one wall. “My mom doesn’t like me making a mess in the rest of the house, so she made it so that I can do whatever I want in here as long as I keep the door closed, and I clean up after myself.”

“This…is incredible.” Mackenzie was awed. Before she met Piper, she’d always fantasized about dating the type of vulgar, filthy women that made scat porn, but Piper was definitely not that kind of woman. She was so far beyond them.

“Oh! Before I forget…” Piper hopped over to the dresser beside the door from which they entered and opened the bottom drawer. It was empty. “I cleared this out, so you could have a place to put your stuff when you come over. I made it the bottom drawer so I could look at your butthole when you bend over to get stuff out of it. I mean, if you’re naked in here. Which I usually am. But you don’t have to be if you don’t want to. Redheads usually have really pretty buttholes, so I hope I get to see yours.”

Mackenzie had learned that Piper had a tendency to announce her inappropriate thoughts aloud, and also that she never acted like they were inappropriate. Somehow it always made her feel like she could be liberated from her shyness. At one point, she actually spent a few hours one evening trying to think of something she could realistically say or do in front of Piper that might incur her disapproval. Despite her best efforts, nothing came to mind.

“Okay, well… I think I left my overnight bag in the other room. I’m gonna go get that. And, I mean, if you want to get naked while I do that, it would… make my pussy really wet?” Mackenzie attempted to mirror Piper’s obscenely inappropriate manner, but it didn’t quite suit her just yet.

She headed back toward the front door where she’d dropped her bag, and returned a few seconds later to find the skinny girl proudly displaying all ninety-six pounds of her shaved five-foot-seven frame.

There was a brief pause as Mackenzie felt overwhelmed by the sight before her. She didn’t know if it was love, or lust, or simple adoration; she just knew that she was so thankful that Piper was hers for that moment. She tossed her bag in the drawer as she strode forward with a burning passion. Her arms coiled around the naked girl and their lips met in unbridled intensity. A moment later they were on the bed, Piper beneath her with legs wrapped around the redhead’s hips. Mackenzie’s tongue forcefully pushed its way into Piper’s mouth, an invasion that she welcomed happily, judging by the little moan that escaped her throat. A few seconds later Piper’s tongue pushed back. Meanwhile, Mackenzie’s hands were running over the soft pink flesh beneath her, kneading and groping her tiny breasts, feeling the ribs just beneath her skin, down to the serpentine, writhing muscles of her waist, then sliding around to dig her fingers into a firm handful of Piper’s soft, little ass.

Eventually, the two of them needed to come up for air. They breathed heavily and stared at each other from inches away, both still happily imprisoned in a cage of one another’s limbs. “Wow,” Piper said, “You’re a really good kisser.”

“Thanks.”

“Did I do okay?”

“You’re amazing.” Mackenzie replied.

“Oh good. ‘Cuz I’ve kinda never done that before.”

Mackenzie’s jaw dropped open. “What?! Piper, was that your first kiss???”

She blushed a little bit while smiling. Then nodded.

“But… You’ve had sex!”

Piper looked away with a shy grin, “I mean, only with dudes and like a couple of dogs. And I’m super gay, so I only do that kinda shit because it’s gross and I like saving the cock-snot in my ass for later. But, I’ve never been with a girl before, and… nobody ever wanted to kiss me before.”

“So, you’re kinda like a virgin? With girls at least.”

“I guess.” Piper replied, “What about you?”

Mackenzie shook her head while wearing an uncharacteristically cocky smile. “Nope! Church camp when I was sixteen, and I dated a girl for a couple months last year before we moved here.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were such a slut.” Piper teased, her words dripping with sarcasm, “In that case, we better keep this on the downlow, I can’t be seen running around with women of low morals, I’ve got my reputation as a good-girl to maintain!” She punctuated the end of her sentence by cocking her hips and releasing a deep, rumbling fart that turned to a wet squeak just at the end.

The two girls burst out laughing and untangled from one another’s arms. “We should close the door if we’re going to be doing that kinda thing, right?” Mackenzie asked, remembering that Piper’s mom went to great lengths to keep the various messes and smells contained in Piper’s bedroom. Piper nodded.

Mackenzie hopped up and shut the door. She turned back to Piper. For a brief moment, she tried to think of some clever or flirty way to say she wanted take her clothes off, but “I’m going to get naked now, okay?” Was all she came up with.

“Okay!” Piper replied, hopping up to a cross-legged position so she could watch. Mackenzie always felt awkward about talking to people, but oddly she never experienced bashfulness when it came to her body. So when Piper treated her undressing as though it was a performance, she was flattered, rather than embarrassed.

She stood in the middle of the room between the bed and the dresser. She grasped the bottom of her yellow knit sweater and peeled that off before placing it in the empty drawer next to her bag. She undid the buttons of her undershirt and dropped it in the drawer as well. She elected not to wear a bra to the sleepover. Despite being a full C-cup nearing a D, her teenaged breasts were still extremely perky. In fact, she considered them possibly her best physical feature. She paused a few moments to give Piper the opportunity to stare at her now naked tits.

She took off her sneakers and socks next. She tried to figure out a sexy way to do that, but after almost falling on her ass twice in the attempt, she decided to just bend over and take them off normally.

“Hey, do you not shave?” Piper asked suddenly. Mackenzie had just finished taking off her shoes and socks, and realized that Piper must have gotten a glimpse of her underarms in the process. Mackenzie always dressed rather conservatively, and what little body-hair she had was extremely fine and light. So she rarely made the effort to remove it. In fact, even though she often wore shorts or knee-length skirts, she’d never had anyone comment on the imperceptible amount of peach-fuzz that adorned her legs. But her armpits did have a small patch of fine, strawberry blonde hair that was noticeable to anyone looking closely. And Piper was looking closely.

“I don’t usually bother. But I can if you want me to. I actually brought a razor just in case. I wasn’t sure what you liked, since I know that you shave everything.”

“It’s cute, don’t shave it!” Piper replied.

She smiled and continued to strip, undoing her flowy ankle-length skirt and letting it fall to the floor. She had worn her cutest pair of white cotton panties with a little pink bow at the top. But she hooked her thumbs in the waist and dropped those to the floor as well.

Mackenzie took a step forward, naked as the day she was born. Her long red hair hung flatly down her back. That and the patch of dark auburn pubic hair were the only splashes of color upon the marble-white canvas of her skin. Her first girlfriend had once commented that her body looked just like the Venus de Milo. At the time, the resemblance was almost uncanny, but her tits had grown a bit since then.

She laughed slightly as she watched Piper’s wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression. She turned around to give her a good look at her backside before bending over to pick up her skirt and underwear so that she could put them in the drawer. Her stance was wide as she bent forward, neatly folding and organizing the pile of clothing she’d dumped. She remembered Piper’s comment about wanting to look at her butthole, and wanted to make sure she had an opportunity to get a good, long look.

Finally she turned around to see the green-haired girl looking a bit awestruck. Piper swallowed before speaking “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Did you know? I feel like someone should have told you. That you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, I mean.”

Mackenzie smiled and blushed, but there was no hint of joking or sarcasm from Piper. Her words were dead-serious, that made Mackenzie blush even more. She took a few steps forward and crawled onto the bed next to her. “So what do you want to do now?”

“Whatever you want to do is cool with me. We can do anything. I’ll… do anything for you.” Piper’s reply sounded almost like she was intimidated. Mackenzie wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Did she really think she was that beautiful? She knew she had a nice body, but she’d always considered herself rather plain looking. One thing was for certain though. Piper was every bit as in love with Mackenzie as Mackenzie was with Piper.

“Seriously,” Mackenzie began, taking the lead, “You said you’ve never had a girl in your room. What’s something you always fantasized about doing in here?”

“Well,” she swallowed nervously, “I guess I always had this fantasy of being with a girl where we just… I don’t know how to describe it, but sort of like…ignored grossness, I guess? Like if we were watching a movie and cuddling, and one of us needed to take a piss, we’d just do it like it’s no big deal. Or if I’m eating your pussy and you need to fart or take a dump, you just do it like it’s nothing, you don’t even ask or say anything. Or if we’re both eating ice cream together and- Oh shit! We still have ice cream, I almost forgot!” She quickly grabbed the thawing pint of ice-cream and the spoon and placed it between them on the bed. “If we’re eating ice cream and you need to blow your nose, you can just, like, blow snot into the ice cream and we both just keep eating it like we don’t care. Is that… something you’d be into?”

Mackenzie’s realized that the two of them were negotiating consent, and her mind flashed back to the little lecture Piper’s mother had given her earlier about that topic. She wanted to be absolutely clear in her enthusiasm. “Fuck yes I’m into that, Piper. Let’s do that!”

“You know, you hide it well, but you’re a seriously bad-ass bitch, aren’t you?” Piper opened the lid of the vanilla bean ice cream and scooped a dollop from the thawed bit around the edges onto the spoon and offered it to Mackenzie. She opened her mouth to allow Piper to feed her and pursed her lips as she withdrew the utensil. Piper then took a second scoop and ate it herself.

“It’s really good.” Mackenzie commented before an observation dawned on her, “Hey! Wait a second! How come you’re eating that? It hasn’t been in your butt.”

“Yeah it has. See? Green sticker.” Piper turned the container to show her. “That’s how we label stuff that’s mine. Sorry if there are ice crystals in it, it’s dangerous to get an enema with stuff that’s really cold, so I had to thaw it all the way and refreeze it.”

“That’s okay. So green is your favorite color, huh?” Mackenzie asked as the pair of them casually shared a pint of ice-cream that had been squirted out of Piper’s shitter at some indeterminate point in the past.

“Yeah, it’s versatile. I mean, it’s the color of boogers and slime and puke, but green is also, like, the color of nature and money and all this good stuff, too. Brown’s the same way; people think of it like a gross color because their shit’s brown, but so is chocolate and coffee, and soil, and wood, and a lot of really hot girls. So I guess I like green and brown because they’re really pretty colors, but they’re underrated or something, I dunno.”

“And they’re the colors of your eyes.” Mackenzie observed. Back when their relationship was across the table in the psych ward, Mackenzie noticed that Piper’s eyes were different colors. Once they had both worked up the courage to make eye contact with one another, that is. Heterochromia. She’d memorized the word. Piper had one green eye and one brown; though the obscene girl joked that she had a second ‘brown eye,’ before displaying her anus and farting loudly. The hospital workers didn’t approve of the display at the time, but it made Mackenzie giggle, and that was all that mattered to Piper.

Mackenzie felt the dairy-based confection stimulating her mucus production, so she gently took the container from Piper, used a finger to block off one of her nostrils, and with a firm exhalation, shot a large wad of clearish-yellow slime from her nose onto the top of the ice-cream. She took the spoon, and scooped a large measure of the desert, topped with her snot, and popped it casually into Piper’s mouth.

She swallowed with a tight-lipped grin. “That was perfect!” Piper whispered intensely. “I know the whole point is to kinda ignore it, but seriously, that was exactly the way it is in my fantasies. I’m fucking it up now. I’m gonna go back to pretending it’s not a big deal. Do you want to watch something on tv?”

Mackenzie giggled, “Sure!”

She took the remote from the nightstand and turned on the television that sat on top of the dresser. She placed the remote back and picked up a small laptop. It was the only piece of computer equipment in the room outside the large shrine of high-end electronics that had been portioned off by a set of plastic shower-curtains in the corner to the right of the bed. She’d gotten to know Piper well enough to know that when she wasn’t talking about sex and filth, she was talking about computers. That or Alan Turing, whom she idolized and about whom she seemed to know an extraordinary amount.

“Do you want to watch scat porn or anything, or should we just put on something normal?”

“Let’s go with something funny we can just have on in the background while we hang out.” Mackenzie replied.

Piper used the laptop interface to put on a late 2000’s comedy show that they half-watched as they finished the vanilla bean and punk-girl-asshole flavored desert. About ten minutes later, the two naked girls were watching tv and spooning when they heard a grumbling bit of commotion coming from Mackenzie’s gut. Piper, who was being the big spoon at the time, moved her hand down to her tummy and rubbed lovingly.

The red haired girl emitted a whining moan of discomfort. The ice-cream really was making her bowels cramp up. This would be about the time she’d normally go and spend the next half-hour sitting on the toilet, but she felt a certain sense of freedom knowing that her digestive troubles wouldn’t have to interrupt the sleepover. Nor would she have to worry about her legs falling asleep from sitting on the toilet for too long. She managed to let out a small, barely audible bit of gas that did nothing to relieve the pressure, but she could feel her guts churning. There was definitely more coming any minute. Piper could tell, too, as she pulled closer. She pressed the front of her naked hips into Mackenzie’s ass. Her legs were fidgeting a bit, as though she was turned on, which she most likely was. About a minute later she felt a pressure inside her colon. It felt a bit like the fart, but she could tell it was more substantial this time. She let loose with wanton abandon and there was a bit of wet sputtering that was slightly muffled by the barrier of flesh formed by the two women pressed together. She could tell that a few wet chunks of shit had exploded out of her ass and hit Piper in the pussy. A moment later, the bulk of her diarrhea began to erupt. The satiny-wet sound of soft shit correlated with the hot muddy feeling that coated her buttocks and Piper’s crotch. The whole ordeal ended with a few last bits of popping flatulence. Piper responded by moaning gently and kissing her on the neck. Then they went back to watching tv and cuddling, ignoring the hot puddle of feces that was spreading across the bed beneath them.

The bowel movement relieved the discomfort, but she knew from experience that the process would repeat at least a couple more times before her digestive system would be a hundred percent again. She decided she wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. “Hey, Piper. Do you want to lick my pussy?”

“Fuck yeah I do.”

“Okay, you stay there, I’m gonna spin around.” she said. Piper’s eyes lit up. She realized what Mackenzie intended. She was going to maneuver onto the top of a sixty-nine position so that she could shit directly onto Piper’s face as she ate her out. She considered that this might be the first time Piper actually got to experience that. Mackenzie herself got to have the experience of a pretty girl shitting on her face at school a few weeks before, and while she lamented the time Piper had spent institutionalized because of it, she had to admit that it was an exhilaratingly decadent experience.

Mackenzie found herself thinking how unexpected it was that she seemed to be falling a bit into the dominant role with Piper; even more unexpected was the fact that the virginal seeming Christian girl was actually more experienced when it came to lesbian sex.

She felt Piper’s tongue immediately attack her pussy the moment she was in position. There were still some brown streaks caking her ass, but her auburn-haired crotch was still mostly clean. Piper’s cunt, Mackenzie noted as she looked down on it, was a different story. It was still dripping with her excrement. The liquid butt-mud having collected so heavily between her legs that her hairless little slit wasn’t even visible. She wasn’t quite ready to wade through her own filth in order to please Piper orally, and she was becoming distracted by another round of slightly painful clenching in her bowels. She tried to watch tv as Piper’s tongue invaded her cunt, nose pressed firmly against her shitty and soon to be explosive asshole.

Piper was eager, but not yet skillful with regards to cunnilingus. Mackenzie enjoyed the sensation, but the stench of her own filth a few inches beneath was starting to get to be a bit much. She knew she wanted to eventually be like Piper, to be able to chomp down turds like they were hot-dogs at a competitive eating contest, but she’d have a ways to go.

She felt another wet bowel movement pushing to escape her butt, and she did nothing to hold it back. The sensation like hot, chunky water squirting out of her ass preceded the feeling of a more normal brown log escaping from her body. She could tell the first round of chunky liquid shot straight up Piper’s eager nose, but based on the continued eagerness of her tongue, she didn’t seem to mind.

She thought she was finished when a sudden round of nausea hit her. Maybe it was the smell, maybe it was the sight of cooling poop caking Piper’s crotch, or maybe it was the realization that the girl going down on her has a nose-full of her turd-juice, but she found herself gagging.

The contents of her stomach shot up and poured out of her mouth. In an instant the cold shit in Piper’s lap had been replaced with hot puke. The heaving of her stomach stimulated her guts enough that she unleashed another round of partially digested liquid brown with particular force against Piper’s face. She was projectile squirting simultaneously from both ends. Somewhere in all the bodily commotion she half-noticed that she was pissing as well. There were multiple rounds in which her core clenched and filth rocketed out of three orifices at once. In the end, she was spitting out the last bits of phlegm and gastric juice while pathetic little farts signaled the last of her digestive issues. She closed one nostril with her fingers and blew bits of snot-mixed-with-vomit out the other, then repeated the process on the opposite side.

Piper sounded to be doing the exact opposite. She heard the girl behind her sniffing, as though she was trying to snort the scat that filled her nose down the back of her throat to swallow it. She felt the slender girls hands come up reassuringly to her ribs. It seemed like her hands were shaking a bit. “You’re okay, right?” Piper asked, her voice quivering.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She replied a bit unsteadily. The ordeal had been a bit trying for her physically, and she was mentally a bit overwhelmed.

Based on Piper’s voice, she was overwhelmed too. “Okay!” Piper’s voice was high pitched, her excitement easily could have been mistaken for panic. “That was amazing. Kenzie, that was fucking amazing! You’re a… you’re a motherfucking, incredible-ass, rug-munching, ginger-snatch cunt! You know that? I mean holy cock-sucking, pants-shitting fucking shit!!! Jesus fuck-tits! You’re a goddamn fucking goddess!”

Mackenzie burst out in hysterical laughter and fell over into the slurry of bodily goo that pooled across the bed and was now dripping onto the floor. She hoped Piper wouldn’t be offended, but the frantic string of obscene language just struck her as incredibly funny. When Piper was excited, she was somehow, incredibly, even more of a potty-mouth!

Piper laughed with her for a moment before having a coughing fit. Mackenzie looked back to see the green-haired girl’s face dripping with brown. It seemed that her laughter had caused her to inadvertently inhale a bit of poo, an idea that elicited another round of screaming laughter from Mackenzie.

The clenching feeling in the bottom of her throat still hadn’t totally subsided. Her stomach and head still ached a bit from projectile retching the contents of her stomach all over Piper’s crotch and bed. And as sexy as her mind found the whole situation, her body’s instinctive aversion would take some time to convince. She’d fantasized about doing things like this for years, and while internet porn had prepared her for the sights and sounds, the magnitude of the smell was a bit much for her to take in. The stench of both fresh and stale diarrhea combined with the acidic odor of vomit imposed upon her nose and eyes. She could even taste it in the air.

“Hey, Piper? This is all really sexy, and I’m for sure going to think about this when I masturbate like… forever. But… I mean, I hate to ask, but could we… clean up maybe… ninety percent of this? I mean, I want to get to the point where I can handle-”

“Hey, it’s no big deal!” Piper interjected while wiping some bits of brown goo from around her eyes, “I guess I kinda threw you in the deep end, huh? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d get that sick. I mean, it was fucking amazing as a motherfucker, but I don’t want you to feel bad.” She took a moment to formulate a plan for how to proceed. “So tell me what you think of this sequence: You go start taking a shower in my bathroom while I scoop the bulk of the shit and piss and puke into containers, ‘cus I mean, I really wanna save it for later. Then I’ll hop in the shower with you for a minute to clean myself off. Then I’ll grab the wet-vac and clean the rest while you take a bath. I actually have scented oils that’ll make you smell like flowers afterward. Then when you’re done, there’ll just be some residue on the sheets that’s still gonna smell a bit, and parts of the bed are still gonna be kinda sticky, but it won’t be nearly this strong. It’ll just smell kinda like bad farts.”

Mackenzie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow, that sounds… really efficient. You have scented bath oil???”

“Well yeah, I mean, it’s cool to smell like shit sometimes, but most people like girls to be clean and smell nice. And there are some dudes I hang out with and play video-games with. I mean, I know they mostly hang out with me ‘cus I let them buttfuck me, but I dunno, maybe part of me wants to be a pretty girl; like you. Or maybe I just like smelling like coconuts and lilac in the morning, and cheese-farts and asparagus-piss at night.” Piper’s eyebrows knitted together in sudden contemplation. “Huh, you know what? I think I just realized that I like all smells. Fuck, I never thought about that before.” She contemplated a moment longer before realizing that Mackenzie was still slowly edging her way to the bathroom on the left side of the room from the bed. “Oh yeah, you go take a shower, and I’ll be there in a minute.”

Mackenzie followed Piper’s suggestion. She noted that the bathroom had a rather normal assortment of shampoos, conditioners, lotions, oils and the like. If anything, Piper’s collection of hygiene products would be enviable to the average girl. It was actually a comfort that Mackenzie hadn’t realized she needed. She had always been fastidious about cleanliness; both of her body and her environment. She didn’t need a psychologist to tell her that the origins of her fascination with filth lie in her almost obsessive-compulsive tidiness.

Deep down, there had been a spark of worry that despite their common fetish, actually building a life with Piper may have been implausible. But those worries had been laid to rest. Piper’s home was crisp and clean. Her bedroom had a bit of clutter around the computer station, but was otherwise neatly organized and tidy. As she peaked out of the shower to see the shit-caked girl using a small squeegee she apparently had stashed somewhere to scrape the slurry of filth neatly into a tupperware container, she realized that they could have a future. At that moment she knew; this was the girl she was going to marry.

***

Almost forty-five minutes later, Mackenzie came out of the bathroom smelling like roses. The naked and still slightly moist Piper stood eagerly. “I left some residue on the sheets, but if you decide you want everything to be a hundred percent clean, I can change those and put them in the washing machine.”

“It’s okay.” Mackenzie replied with a lovey smile. “It smells sexy in here.” She took deep breath and let out a contented sigh. “I feel better now. Throwing up makes you feel bad. Even though it’s hot.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I should have planned for this better.” Piper gave a contrite smile. “Sorry if I was being kinda selfish by making you eat ice cream so you could fart and shit on me.”

“Piper. Stop apologizing.” Mackenzie was almost surprised to hear such a commanding tone come out of her own mouth.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I- Shit! Sorry. Fuck!” Her contrite smile disappeared and was replaced by genuine anxiety.

Mackenzie felt a little sorry for her. She had always hidden her own kink. So as shy as she was, she still made the occasional friend or acquaintance. But Piper’s in-your-face filth obsession must have made her feel alienated from the rest of the world. As best she could tell, her only friends were men who mostly used her for sex. It was no wonder she seemed a bit desperate to please.

“Okay, take a breath.” Mackenzie stepped forward and held Piper’s pixie-like face in her hands, peering into her green and brown eyes. “From now on, whenever you want to say you’re sorry, just tell me you love me instead. Say ‘I love that you accept me for who I am. I love that you forgive me for my mistakes. I love that you want to be with me no matter what.’ Because I do. And I will. You’re… amazing, Piper. And I’m absolutely, positively in love with you.”

Piper stood blank-faced for a moment. “I… I love you too, Kenzie.”

“Come on. Let’s go to bed. It’s getting late, and I think that’s a nice thought to fall asleep to.”

The two of them crawled beneath the feces and vomit smeared sheets, kissed one another gently, and drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms….

Mackenzie woke up first the next morning. She laid in bed staring at Piper through the mess of green hair that tangled over her face. She watched as her eyes lazily drifted open and turned to meet hers. She yawned and smiled before speaking groggily, “I’ve got to take a monster dump right now.”

Mackenzie giggled and kissed her. “Good morning to you, too!”

Piper slipped out from under the rubbery covers and stood naked, wreathed in the small bit of morning light that peaked through the curtains above the bed. “I’m thirsty, are you thirsty?”

“Mhm. I actually feel a little dehydrated. I probably should have drank something after I threw up last night.”

“Oh fuck, I should have offered you something, I’m sor- I mean… uhh… I love that you put up with the fact that I don’t know how to have guests.” She grinned a bit, proud of herself for remembering Mackenzie’s insistence that she express love rather than regret.

Piper opened the clear shower-curtain to enter the tech corner of the room, the mess of cables and wires running between custom made computers and monitors and various other pieces of plastic and circuitry that Mackenzie couldn’t begin to decipher. She opened a small mini-fridge positioned in the underside of the desk and pulled out one clear bottle and one red one. “I’ve got water and Mountain Dew Code Red.”

“Oh, just the water is fine.”

Piper returned to the bed and handed Mackenzie the clear bottle. She opened the red one herself and took a swig. The scent of artificial cherry flavor briefly overwhelmed the aroma of ass that lingered on the bed and on Piper’s skin. Mackenzie cracked the water and drank a third of it in a few large swallows.

She contemplated for a moment, “Hey, have these been in your ass?”

“Nah, I just do that with stuff I eat. I leave drinks alone. I thought about making it so that everything I eat is something I shat out and everything I drink is something I pissed, but I’m not about to give myself a catheter every day to squirt coffee and soda and juice into my bladder. I tried it once and it kinda hurts, like… kinda a lot. I still drink piss, though. Wanna see?”

Mackenzie groaned adorably and hit Piper gently with a pillow, “How are you this chipper this early in the morning? And also, yes, of course I wanna watch you drink piss.”

Piper laughed as she went to the dresser to retrieve a large green cup from one of the upper drawers. Mackenzie was slowly figuring out that a dish or food being labeled green seemed to indicate it was for Piper only. She watched, as the skinny, naked girl turned her knees out and squatted slightly. A pale yellow liquid poured from between her labia and filled the cup about two thirds of the way. She returned to bed next to Mackenzie and sipped the cup of urine while making casual eye contact with her bed-mate. “Wanna try some?”

Mackenzie nodded. Piper handed her the cup, “Just take a little sip.” she cautioned, “I don’t wanna go overboard again. We have time to help you get used to all this kinda shit.”

She took the cup and smelled it. A relatively normal scent of salty urea. She took a small sip and found it tasted similarly. The acrid taste made her face scrunch a bit. She followed up the sip of Piper’s pee by taking a few delicate swallows from the bottle of clean water. “Thanks for going slow with me, Piper.”

“No problem, babe. Hey, hand me that empty ice-cream container, I’m gonna take a huge dump in it while you watch, okay?”

She handed Piper the container and turned on the bedside lamp to get a better look as Piper turned around and knelt down with her chest pressed onto the top of the bed. She held the container in one hand between her legs; obscenely spread ass proudly displaying her cute, puckered anus. She watched as the muscles in the girl’s lithe abdomen writhed and her shitter opened up. A large, solid log of brown excrement pushed its way out of Piper’s asshole and broke off to plop into the empty container. A slightly softer brown cylinder emerged and kept emerging; it curved down, beginning to coil as it hit the bottom of the container. She realized that Piper’s practiced skill was being utilized to fill the container the same way an ice-cream man would fill a cone with soft-serve. Despite her small size, she managed to fill the container almost all the way to the top with a perfectly tipped swirl.

“Impressive!” Mackenzie remarked.

“I watched some YouTube videos of the techniques people use for soft-serve. It took some practice to get it right at this angle, but I can usually make a pretty nice-looking shit-cup.” She explained as she wiped her ass with her fingers and licked them clean.

Piper grabbed the spoon and sat in bed next to Mackenzie. She began casually eating her own shit from the used ice-cream container as if it actually was soft-serve, occasionally washing it down with a swig from the bottle of red soda.

“Can I try?” Mackenzie asked, stopping Piper in her tracks.

“Are you sure? Just so you know, this thing doesn’t need to be a two way street. If you want to just dump out turds in my mouth every day, and never put your mouth anywhere near me, I’d be a hundred-percent cool with that.”

“I wouldn’t be. I like kissing you. And I don’t feel like you’re pressuring me. I’ve fantasized about eating your shit since the first day we met. I guess I kinda did at the assembly, but mostly I just threw up. I didn’t really get a chance to take my time.”

“Yeah, I… love you for being the kinda girl that enjoyed that crazy-ass prank. Okay, I don’t want you to get sick again, so just have a little.” Piper collected a small spoonful of her own crap and held it out toward Mackenzie.

“I love you, too.” she said before she suddenly took the small scoop of feces into her mouth. She pulled back and felt the slightly warm brown sludge on her tongue. The taste was bitter and earthy; like fermented soil and coffee grounds. With a substantial stretch of the imagination, she could almost convince herself that the turd tasted like unsweetened dark chocolate. She mushed it against the roof of her mouth with her tongue and swallowed. She gagged briefly, but quickly washed most of the taste out of her mouth by downing the rest of her water bottle.

Piper watched with anticipation. Mackenzie took a few deep breaths to make sure that she wasn’t going to throw up, then smiled at Piper. Piper looked excited and hugged her. “I’m so proud of you! Just so you know, that shit was mostly made out of your shit from last night, so you’re kinda gettin’ double shit flavor there. But now that I know for sure you want to do that, I’ll try to do stuff to make it taste better when you come over. Oh! And you should take the antibiotics my mom got for you so that you don’t get sick from that.” She produced the small prescription bottle from a drawer in the nightstand before going back to her mini-fridge to bring another water bottle.

“Thanks,” she said as she downed the first dose of medication. “Hey, Piper? Can I… make a request? It’s okay if you say no, but it’d mean a lot to-”

“I’ll do anything for you, Mackenzie.” The adoration was clear in her voice.

“If I’m going to be… ya know, eating your poop, is there any chance you could… stop eating meat?”

Piper’s cheeks widened into a big, toothy grin. “I already stopped. I knew there was a chance you’d want to do that, and I know you don’t eat meat. I’m not going to have you eat second-hand meat out of my butt.”

The two of them spent most of the rest of the day in bed watching tv. It seemed that the little laptop on the nightstand could set anything she could imagine to play on the screen. Mackenzie wasn’t sure if the Lindeholm household just happened to have a subscription to almost every streaming service, of if Piper was pirating them. She decided that she didn’t particularly care about the answer. She did care about the fact that they seemed to have more in common than she would have thought. They both liked Star Trek, and spent a good portion of the day revisiting favorite episodes. Their taste in comedy shows was similar; and Mackenzie found herself genuinely enjoying being a cheerleader for Piper as she played video games. Mackenzie was more into horror movies than Piper, who got scared easily, but claimed she could tolerate them as long as she could bury her face between Mackenzie’s boobs during the scary parts.

Toward the end of the day, the two of them worked together to clean the last of the filth from the room as Mackenzie prepared to depart that evening. She wished that she could stay forever, but a part of her also wanted to get home to Saturday-evening dinner with her family, where she could tell them a heavily censored version of her adventures with her new girlfriend. Plus, she enjoyed the weekly family ritual of Sunday morning breakfast, followed by church.

She was saying her last goodbyes and thank-yous to Piper and her mother, when Piper blurted out a question randomly.

“Hey, should I shave my head again by Monday? Like, do you want to see my tattoos at school?”

Piper’s hairstyle had been a bit neglected during the few weeks in the mental hospital. The formerly bare sides of her head that read “Potty Mouth” and “Ass 2 Mouth 4 Life” were now mostly obscured by a dense stubble of golden-blonde hair.

Miss Lindeholm stood behind Piper, making intensely wide eye-contact with Mackenzie and pleadingly shaking her head in tense little gestures.  

“Well… I think your hair is really pretty, and, I dunno, maybe the tattoos can be just something that you and me know about.”

Piper’s mother made a silent sigh of relief and mouthed ‘thank you’ at Mackenzie.

“Okay,” she began, rubbing the side of her head, “I guess I can grow it out for now. Least I can do is try to look pretty for you.”

Mackenzie didn’t fully understand the comment until they passed each other in the hall Monday at school. Piper kept her eyes downcast, only raising them briefly to flash a subtle knowing smile at Mackenzie before proceeding on her way as if they were strangers.

Mackenzie wheeled around to catch up and glomped Piper with a big hug from behind. “Hey, pretty girl! You aren’t even going to say hi to me?”

Piper looked panicked, she spoke in a rapid whisper, “Kenzie! You can’t hang around me at school! People are gonna… see you! With me!”

A flash of anger stirred in Mackenzie’s heart. Not directed at Piper, but at the society that made her feel that she needed to protect Mackenzie from mockery by pretending to be strangers.

Her face turned stern. “Piper! I don’t care what anyone thinks.” She began to speak a bit more loudly in the crowded hall to make her point, “You’re my girlfriend and we’re in love. I feel sorry for anyone who thinks they need to make fun of someone because of who they choose to spend their life with.”

Piper continued to fret for a while, but eventually acquiesced; she still seemed a little nervous. They spent a lot of time together in school, but Piper always preferred to spend it away from other students who may be compelled to comment on Mackenzie’s choice of partner. In fact, most of the time, the two of them spent their lunch period in the out-of-the-way bathroom where they’d first met. They occasionally did unspeakably filthy things when they could be sure they would have privacy in a stall, but mostly, they just held hands and talked about their lives.

Mackenzie’s parents eventually had Piper and her mother over to their home for dinner; something that both girls stressed about on account of Piper’s inadvertent compulsion to be vulgar. Piper’s mother seemed uncharacteristically cavalier about the whole thing, as though she had a secret plan to ensure the evening went well. Which, as it turns out, she did! Almost as soon as the two of them walked in the door, Miss Lindeholm dominated the conversation by praising them for the way they reconciled their Christian faith with their daughter’s homosexuality, which she segued into offhandedly mentioning a project that Piper had done a few years before about her personal hero and gay icon, Alan Turing. That had apparently set things in motion, as Piper spent the rest of the evening excitedly lecturing everyone present about the life and legacy of the father of modern computer science, along with far too many details about computer science itself. Mackenzie’s family was too polite to stop her multi-hour soliloquy, but left the evening believing that their daughter’s new sweetheart was an exceptionally bright and spirited young lady whose odd behavior at the school assembly had been an isolated incident.

A few weeks later, Piper had grown more comfortable spending time with Mackenzie in the more public areas of the school. At one point a large boy from the football team had approached them, mockingly inviting Piper and Mackenzie to a party they were throwing… as the toilets. Piper initially accepted the invitation happily, not realizing the boy was making fun of them. When Mackenzie explained, she seemed disappointed. She didn’t become angry until the boy continued piling on, and when he called Mackenzie a ‘retard’ she attacked him. The ninety-six pound girl was about as effective as one would expect against the two-hundred-forty pound linebacker; the fight ended about two seconds after it began with Piper lying in the dirt with a split lip. Despite being the one bleeding, she still seemed much more worried about Mackenzie.

The boy was suspended for a week, a penalty that Piper’s mother thought was insultingly low. Though it seemed karma was on their side, as the boy was arrested soon after when hundreds of gigabytes of brutal pornography featuring a ten-year-old girl named Darla was found on his personal computer. Mackenzie had a sneaking suspicion that Piper was responsible, but being as she wasn’t sure she wanted to know just how far Piper would go to defend her, she never asked.

A few weeks before graduation, Mackenzie proposed in the bathroom where they’d first met. It was the first time she’d ever seen Piper cry.

That summer, the two of them found an apartment and moved in together near the university that Piper would be attending in the Fall. Mackenzie decided that she wanted to take some time off and figure out what she wanted to do with her life. The two of them often joked that Mackenzie was preparing for a life as Piper’s trophy wife.

Life was good; and the strange and depraved story of Piper and Mackenzie’s ‘Happily Ever After’ was just beginning…

[kaleldobrev]

The Old Fashioned Way (Part 3 of the “Vous Aussi” series)

Series Plot: You’re a serial killer who is active in Kansas, who has teamed up with the Winchester’s. Here’s a prequel of how that partnership started.

Chapter Three Summary: Sam and Dean take care of the reader the old fashioned way.

Reader Gender: Female

Warnings: smut, pure smut, honestly this is porn, threesome with Sam & Dean, fingering, daddy kink, talk of fear kink, humiliation, dirty talk, slight slut shaming, talks of sam and dean having big boys, slight praise kink, rough sex

Notes: Hope you all enjoy this work of pure porn

Chapter 1 - Tonight’s The Night

Chapter 2 - Want To Make a Deal?

Chapter 3 (AO3 Link)

The fact that I was chained to a metal table by my ankles and wrists was really a lady boner killer, because I wanted to reach out and touch the two men before me. I hated to admit this to myself, and I really, really did; but they were far from mildly attractive. I have seen some pretty attractive men in my day, I mean, my high school boyfriend was probably the most attractive man I ever have killed, but Sam and Dean Winchester were pretty high up there, or maybe even on the same level. There was so much I wanted to do, but they wouldn’t release the binding they had on me; they thought that it would be “more fun” if I stayed chained up. Maybe more fun for them, but not nearly as much fun for me. The whole point of this challenge was to try and prove myself. Prove that I could actually get them off with minimal use of my body. Little did they know, I actually was very much into bondage, but I wasn’t usually the one being bound; it was my victims or the random men that I slept with when I was bored. So being bound was definitely a new experience for me.

I looked at the two men before me. They were exchanging looks, giving each other silent ques. I guess that was one of the perks when it came to siblings. After a moment of their silence exchange, Dean was the first one to come next to me. He stood on the side of the metal table I was on, and just smirked. He ran his hands down the edge of the table, and his fingertips were dangerously close to my skin. When he got to the edge of the table where my waist was, he pulled a kind of lever, which made the table go flat instead of right up like it was. The sudden motion made me let out a small yelp, which only made the two men chuckle. “Did I scare you there sweetheart?” Dean playfully asked. I shook my head. “Good. Cause we can’t have you being scared now. Then again, that would add to the fun.” He commented, a slightly evil smirk formed on his lips.

“Are you into girls who have a fear kink?” I asked, having my own little smirk at the end of my question. My question caused not only Dean to bit his bottom lip, but for Sam to smirk as well.

“Nah sweetheart. It just really gets me going when I look into a girls eyes and just seeing pure fear or terror.” Dean responded. He started playing with random strands of my hair while he continued to look me in the eyes. “But I know we’re probably not gonna get the look of pure fear or terror from you.” He almost seemed disappointed.

“The perks of being a fellow serial killer. I don’t get scared. Plus, you boys don’t scare me in the slightest.” I felt myself lick my lips at my sentence. I was actually more into this than I would have liked to admit.

“We don’t scare you uh?” Sam questioned. He was on the other side of the table now. “I guess we’re gonna have to figure out how to scare you then. Unless, you can excite us in other ways. Which, you better hope for or the deal is off, and you’re just going to be one of our victims.” He smirked. Sam seemed way too happy about this. But I couldn’t blame him, I was a pretty hot chick. I’d love the chance to fuck me.

“Do your worst boys. I can handle a lot.” I told them, being way too cocky now.

“Oh sweetheart,” Dean began to say.

“We’ll do our worst,” Sam finished.

“Good.” I replied, and with that, Sam and Dean walked away from the table and headed toward a closet on the other side of the room. The closet was made of metal, like many of the other things that were in this room; and it had a padlock on the door. Sam was the one who punched in the code, and opened up the closet. Even though I could not see everything in the closet, it seemed as though that was their designated BDSM closet. I could see a variety of different chains, and whips. There was a knife or two, and some ropes, and even some handcuffs. But I’m sure there was more to that closet than meets the eye.

Sam and Dean stood there in front of the closet but what seemed like forever. They were whispering, and I couldn’t really make out what they were saying. There were a few pieces to the conversation that I managed to hear which were, ”Not this one, that one,” “She’d really love this,” “We gotta give her our worst.”

After a few minutes of them trying to figure out what they were going to do, the both of them came back to the table. “So boys, whatcha got for me?” I asked, pretty curious. The boys looked at me, with semi evil grins on their faces. Dean was the first one to reveal that he actually had nothing in his hands. I then looked over at Sam and he too, did not have anything in his hands. “All that commotion and nothing?” I asked.

“We’re going to do this the old fashioned way.” Dean said coming closer to me. His fingers were playing with my hair again.

“The old fashioned way uh?” I asked curious.

“Hands.” Sam replied, going to the other side of the table. I turned my head to look at him, slightly confused by his answer.

“Hands?” I questioned, and Sam nodded.

“Hands.” He replied back. His answers not really clearing anything up. I turned my head to face Dean, hoping that he would clear something up.

“And fingers.” Was all Dean said in response.

I let out a small huff, getting a little frustrated by their lack of explanation. “Would you boys like to explain to me what you mean by hands and fingers instead of just saying it?” I asked them, which caused them to let out a chuckle.

“We’ll show you.” Dean answered.

“It’ll be more fun that way.” Sam added. Finally, some kind of explanation. Well, kind of.

At this moment, Dean stopped playing with my hair now and decided to run his hands along my body. His hands stopped at my thigh, at the hem of my dress and started to slowly lift the fabric. The hem of my dress started to go up and up, revealing more and more of my thigh. Dean stopped for a moment and looked over at his younger brother. The younger Winchester gave him a small nod, urging him to keep going, in which the older Winchester obliged. Dean continued to lift the hem of my dress until the hem reached to were my underwear was. Dean looked at his younger brother again, in which Dean removed his hands from my dress and Sam decided to take over. Sam decided to take both of his hands and instead of taking the hem of my dress like I thought he would, his hands were on my hips now, his point fingers on my underwear, ready to pull them down at a moments notice. I felt myself suck in a breath, before he pulled them down with full force. Sam held my underwear in his hands for a moment. I could see a slight smirk on his lips.

“Cute.” Dean replied looking at my underwear in Sam’s hands. The underwear was red lace, and if you saw them on me without my dress, you can see that they would barely cover my ass.

“Only cute?” I asked.

“I’m just surprised that you wore underwear at all.” Dean said.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You just seem like a slut, and sluts usually don’t wear underwear.” Sam added to the conversation. He held them right in front of his face for a moment like he was admiring them. “Even if you can call these underwear.” He said. A part of me thought that it was kind of cute when he called me a slut. Not really expecting that kind of language from someone that looked like him. He just seemed too innocent in a way. After a moment more of staring, he decided to toss them to the side. I’d probably wouldn’t be getting those back any time soon.

At this point, my dress was now up to my bra line and my entire bottom half was exposed for them to do whatever they wanted. I started to get turned on just thinking about all of dirty things they could possibly do to me given the fact that I was chained up and exposed. Dean walked around to the end of the table to where my feet were and Sam decided to move to the top of the table just above my head. “Spread your legs.” Dean demanded, and I gladly obliged. I felt my lips turn into a smile, which caused Dean to smirk. “Good girl. At least you know how to follow simple directions.” I began to open myself to say something, but Sam was the one that covered my mouth. “No talking unless we tell you. We don’t need your pointless commentary.” Ouch. That hit my ego just a little bit.

Dean hooked his arms underneath my knees so my legs were on his shoulders. Sam held his hand over my mouth and watched my gaze as I looked at Dean between my legs. The older Winchester started kissing my legs, and went slowly up my thighs. His kisses felt good against my freshly shaven legs as he has slight scruff on his face. It tickled a bit, but it still felt good nonetheless.

After what seemed like forever, he finally reached my pussy, and I felt myself suck in a breath. Sam felt me doing that, and I felt him chuckle. When he did so, Dean looked up from between my legs and looked over at Sam. A slightly devilish look on his face. “You jealous there little brother?” Dean asked.

“Just slightly.” Sam replied.

“Don’t worry brother. You’ll get your chance.” Dean smirked.

“Of course. Age before beauty.” Sam said, causing Dean to chuckle.

At that moment, Dean finally made contact with my pussy and started licking and sucking. I started to shift a bit from the contact, and with his other hand, Sam made sure that I stayed in one place. Dean started making circular motions with his tongue now, and I was doing all I could to keep my legs open like he asked me to; but it was hard. As Dean continued, painfully slow, I felt myself go a little weak in the knees and I let out a muffled moan due to Sam still having his hand covering my mouth. I was starting to get close, which Dean knew, because he started to pick up the pace a bit. He removed his mouth for the shortest amount of time and replaced it with two fingers right away. He plunged them in, not even giving my pussy time to adjust. I bucked my hips forward at the feeling. It was a mixture of slight pain, but it was more pleasure than anything. As he continued to move his fingers in and out of me, he added his tongue again. I’ve gotten eaten out and fingered more times than I could possibly count, but Dean Winchester was probably one of the best; and that was saying something.

After a few more pumps of his fingers and some plunges from his tongue, my body tensed up and I let myself go. My legs started to shake and I came. As I came, Dean’s tongue and fingers continued to pump in and out of me throughout my orgasm. After I ended my first orgasm, Dean removed his face from between my legs and unhooked his arms from my legs. He started to unbuckle his pants and pulled them down, revealing himself to be pretty endowed. “You know, I’ve always been an ass man myself but…” Dean began to say as he made himself at home between my legs again. “I think I can make an exception when it comes to your cunt.” He finished and started stroking himself, even though he was already hard. “Alright slut. Are you ready?” He asked me and then laughed. “Of course you are. Sluts are always ready.” He smirked. Taking his cock in his hand, he started teasing my entrance with the tip; precum and my own juices coating my entrance. All I wanted him to do was just fuck me already. I started to speak, even though my speech was muffled. “What is that sweetheart?” Dean asked, and he nodded to Sam. A silent gesture so that he could remove his hand from my mouth.

“Will you please just fuck me already?” I practically begged.

“Aw.” Dean said. He continued to tease my entrance, barely putting anything inside me. “What was that sweetheart? I don’t think I quite heard you.”

I let out a sigh. “I said. please fuck me.”

He started to put his cock a little bit more inside me, but still, there was barely anything. He was big, and at this rate, it was going to take him a while in order for him to finish putting the rest of himself inside of me. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” Now he was just being cute.

“Dean, please.” I began to say. “I need your cock. My cunt needs it.” If I could feel embarrassment, I’m sure I would feel it right now. This was humiliating.

“And why do you need my cock sweetheart?” He asked.

“Because I’m a slut.” I replied.

“Who’s slut?” A smirk was on his face now. Some more of his cock entered me.

“Yours.” I replied.

“Only Dean’s?” Sam interjected now.

“And yours.” I said.

“Now all together.” Dean said.

“I need your cock Dean, please. I need your cock inside my cunt because I’m a slut for you and Sam.” This was humiliating.

Dean laughed. “Give the girl a round of applause.” He was mocking me now. “But, I’m going to give you my cock instead, since you said please so pretty.” At that moment, he put his whole cock inside of me, and I let out a small little shout. I knew he was big, but I didn’t think he was that big. From the feel of it, it felt like he had to force himself inside of me. Which made sense, but I was slightly surprised given the fact that I already did have an orgasm and my cunt was still wet from my cum and his saliva. “Atta girl.” Dean said, starting to go slow. “Taking my cock like a pro.” He grinned, and I hated myself for loving that grin of his. He started to go faster. “Such a good girl for me.” His comments were making me wetter and I hated it. This was so humiliating.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I mumbled and moaned, hating the kind of affect he had on me. If Dean had this affect on me, there’s no telling what kind of affect Sam was going to do to me. I had a feeling he was pretty endowed too, given the fact that he was basically a giant. I continued to moan out other profanities as Dean continued to go faster and faster. His hands were holding my hips. They were tight against them, and I knew he was going to leave bruises. Bruises was something that he wanted. So he could mark me. I could appreciate that. Dean’s pace was steady, and he was wasn’t sloppy even though I knew he was close. The grip on my hips started to get tighter and tighter. The more he pounded into me, the more profanities I started moaning out.

“You’re gonna have such pretty bruises.” Sam looked me in the eyes, and I grinned as much as I could. A part of me loved the fact that I was going to have bruises. Sam leaned down and kissed my lips. They were softer than I was expecting them to be. As he kissed me, Dean was now starting to get sloppy with his movements. I moaned into Sam’s moan, and I could feel his lips curve up into a smile.

“I’m gonna cum so deep in this pretty cunt of yours.” Dean commented, placing one of his hands on my stomach and keeping the other one on my hips. “Hope you’re taking something sweetheart ‘cause, I’m not gonna be a dad to some kid. The only dad I’m gonna be is yours.” And at that moment, I felt his cum inside of me, and Sam bit down on my bottom lip; a small amount of my blood fell in my mouth, and I felt like I died and went to Heaven; because this moment here was going to be the closest I would ever get to being in Heaven. I let out a deep moan, and my whole body shook. My second orgasm happened, and Dean continued to ride it out. After I was done with my orgasm, he removed his cock from my body, and I slightly whined at the contact. “Aw, don’t worry sweetheart. You’re gonna get filled real quick.” Dean said grabbing his pants and pulling them up, not bothering to put his belt back on. “Your other dad is gonna take real good care of you like I did.” He smirked. God I hated and loved his smirk. “Nothing to say?” He asked me.

“Just…Trying…To…Catch my breath…Daddy.” I said, wanting to vomit in my mouth. I hated myself for being into this, because of how humiliating this was. But I just couldn’t help being turned on. It’s not everyday you have two decent looking men fucking you. Then again, this might be how their victims felt.

I saw Dean’s smile grow wider when I called him Daddy; this is exactly what he wanted to hear. If I could stroke his ego a bit, I’m more than willing to do so. I understood that after all. “I’m gonna take good care of you.” Sam said. It was his turn now; and if the size of Dean’s cock said anything, Sam’s was probably going to be just as big or even bigger. He was going to rip me in half, and I was strangely okay with that.

Sam and Dean switched now. Dean was now by my head and Sam was between my legs; his pants already down. “Oh fuck…” I mumbled. Sam laughed, as he stepped between my legs.

“And you thought my brother was big.” Sam scoffed.

“Bitch.” Dean mumbled.

“Jerk.” Sam replied. The two of them smiled, sharing a moment. But all I wanted was for Sam to fuck me. I didn’t care about this brotherly moment they were having in the slightest. I rolled my eyes. “Oh, not into this moment of ours?” He asked.

“Not particularly. I just want you to fuck me with your cock.” I said.

“Aw. You’re gonna have to do better than that.” Sam said, a slight pout on his face.

“Daddy, please fuck me. I need your cock inside me. I need your cum. Your slut needs you.” I hated how much I was begging right now.

“There’s my girl.” Sam’s hands made a home on my hips, in the same position Dean’s were. If I wasn’t going to have bruises before, I was definitely going to have bruises now. Sam didn’t even tease my cunt like Dean did, he just went straight for it and plunged into me. Like Dean, it felt like Sam had to force his cock inside me. There was more pain this time, because he didn’t ease his way in like Dean kind of did. Even though Dean was big, Sam was just a little bit bigger, but not by much. But they were both pretty big guys nonetheless.

“Sam, fuck.” I said, a little louder than I expected, as he started pumping in and out of me. He was rough and fast, unlike Dean, but they were both still similar in their movements. As he kept pumping in and out of me, Dean leaned down and kissed me. His kisses weren’t soft like his brothers, they were a bit rougher. I felt Dean’s tongue go along my bottom lip, like he was trying to feel the small bite that Sam had left on my bottom lip. I could slightly taste myself on his lips.

“You feel so good.” Sam started praising me, stroking my ego. “Probably one of the nicest cunts I’ve fucked.” His mouth was so dirty, much dirtier than Dean’s. “God…” Sam started to say something, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

Dean removed his lips from mine, and looked at Sam, then looked at me. “Just so you know sweetheart. Sam doesn’t fuck every girl we get. That’s usually my thing. So, when Sam says that you’ve got a nice little cunt, he means it. Why don’t you tell him thank you for that compliment?” It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a demand.

“Thank you for the compliment daddy.” I said, no hesitation in my voice whatsoever.

“That’s our little slut.” Dean said, kissing my lips again. Sam’s movements were now getting sloppy. He was getting close and so was I. I felt myself getting more and more on the edge of cumming; I wasn’t sure if I was able to cum again, but I knew Sam was going to get me there.

“You better cum when I do.” Sam demanded; his voice stern. Within moments, the both of us came. His cum flooded inside of me, and I felt myself cum around his cock.

Sam pulled himself out of me, it was quick and I hated the loss of contact. I wanted him to keep his cock inside of me. I wanted the both of them to keep their cocks inside of me. “Well Sammy, what do you think?” Dean asked. I started breathing in and out, trying to catch my breath.

“I think she has herself a deal.” Sam smirked.

Tagging: @22sarah08

If you would like to be tagged for my stories, message me.

[xolotoofficial]

Recorded in Advance

> “Alright, babe,” Marvus’ manager starts, making sure the bandages around his chest are well visible under his jacket, but not as visible as the layers of gold chains sitting on top. He smirks and pats him on the shoulders, eying the golden diamond-shaped studs in his ears. “You’re looking pitiful enough. Go out there and make me and your clown buddies proud.”

Marvus feels way better now that he’s had a couple of days to heal. If he was, oh, Jade, let’s say, it would probably take much longer for him to heal, but he slowly swaggers into the interview, feeling like a million but walking like he’s still injured, but healing. The stab wounds on his body were closed up at this point, and the scarring was already looking pretty minimal, but he looked like he was being held together by cotton and stitches under all the wrappings.

The day he woke up, he let them photograph his chest, and it was emblazoned across every magazine - a clown, martyred at his own show, bloody and pitiful, tore the fuck up and still devastatingly hot. Gore was barely a kink on Alternia.

The cerulean woman in her pencil skirt and killer heels splattered with warm blood sits with a notepad in her lap and a winning smile. She was a familiar site. They had done interviews before, and she was very efficient. “Are you ready? Do you remember all the questions and answers we’re going through today, Mr. Xoloto?”

He smiles and nods, feeling the cameras on him again. It’s familiar, and he can honestly say he missed it. “Yes, I remember. It’s a steel trap up here, even if it’s been knocked around a lil’ bit.”

She feigns concern and they both cackle with each other. She was easy to win over, as easy as anyone else, but at least she had fun with it.

“You’re such a messy bitch.” She croons, recrossing her legs, one set of eyes looking at her notes and the other staring into him with glee. “Alright, everyone shut up and start rolling!...” She herself smiles into the camera. “Hello and welcome to all of you at hive watching, this is Krayvt Terrox, of course. Today I’m joined by one of the most masterful jesters this side of Alternia in an exclusive interview. Known for the size of his crowds, the size of the bloodshed, and the size of him… well. Marvus Xoloto, it’s so good to have you here, and so soon after this grizzly attempt on your life.”

He smiles and nods lazily, moving very little. “Only by motherfuckin’ grace, sister. It’s great to be here, Kravyt.”

“Let’s start with the obvious - your attacker isn’t a stranger to the disciplinary system, and according to multiple sources, he’s been on the cull list for some time for abandoning his duties and past violence on trolls of higher blood. It’s rather stupid of him to brazenly walk on stage when common knowledge among us who actually use our pans that you like to keep a certain amount of attention and cameras on you. I have to ask, did you know Lanque Bombyx personally?”

Marvus shakes his head. “No. We had some mutual acquaintances once upon a time, but I didn’t know him, or about him, or get any warnin’s on his violent ass nature. We’ve attended some same parties, but other than that? Nada.”

“Oh, interesting. Let’s start with those acquaintances. Did you have any altercations or issues with those mutual acquaintances?”

He shakes his head again. “Oh, no. It’s funny, the only people we both knew seemed to either not want much to do with him, or just didn’t have nice things to say. I take care of my friends, ya know? And that includes listenin’ to em, so I did my best.”

“Of course, Marvus the Great wouldn’t be associating with such base criminals. I’m sure the people who lost him to the cull list were very disappointed.”

Marvus laughs. Thinking of Daraya being disappointed in Lanque’s crimes tickled him. “Can’t say fer sure since he came up so rarely, but I’m sure they were pretty g-d bummed.”

Kravyt’s eyes narrow and she leans in. “Now, about the parties? What’s the secret there?”

“Oh, god, ain’t no secret. They was jus’ meetin’ ups I was havin’ with some of my siblin’s. He was there at the same time, in my ass and all that. The only secret I might think was there was that he was followin’ me. Ain’t uncommon, but ain’t impressive on me.”

His interrorgator simply laughed, flipped a page in her paper. “Gosh, this is a funnier story than I expected. Here we all were, thinking he was some sort of hired hand or a wronged quad, but he’s really a jealous nobody. So, what happened that night? Why does Marvus Xoloto lose to an overly desperate fan like that? It’s not every day that someone attempts on a clown’s life, let alone escapes from the scene, and a Jade blood on top of that. A well-trained subjugglator would be expected to win that match up, easy.”

“Well, I ain’t subjug trained, I’m laughsassin trained. We more like a clown utility knife, less of a club to the face, ya dig?” One hand plays with a chain around his neck, the other hand waving away the last statement. “Not disparagin’ of course, I love the heavy hitters in my family, but I ain’t made to maintain that kinda rage all long term and shit. After a bumpin’ ass night of performin’, ya could guess that I was tired a-f. Ain’t help that on top of tired I was all cocky and shit - I’ve always been the type for spectacle, and I ain’t thought that through much at the time. I was jus’ tryin’ ta stop him, wound him all for-life-like, put on a show, and I got blood in my eyes for just a second and, well, I got the beatin’ I well up and deserved for bein’ a show-off, durin’ the fight and durin’ that long-ass slam session.”

Marvus takes a pause. He stops his fidgeting and his eyes cut to the ground. Clowns don’t show shame, but he does it regularly on global television. Even Kravyt, who knew what the questions and answers were ahead of time leans in while the camera does the same on his face.

“But I wanted to make my fans all happy, you know? Shit, they show was gettin’ ruined, and I wanted to give em another to make up for it... That was my b. If I knew he was such a criminal I woulda been more on toppa dat shit, but I ain’t sure it mattered much. Like I said, I’d been performin’ for a long time at that point - like, i-d-k, almost 3 hours?” He pauses though, stage whispering to the woman across from him. “And don’t tell nobody, but I mighta been a lil’ slack on my training. Gotta get that fixed now, don’t I?”

Kravyt nods in understanding, swinging her foot. “Thank you for that, Marvus. I’m sure that was difficult to talk about. Let’s move onto something a little less clinical - how are you feeling?”

Marvus beams for the camera. “Aww, thanks sis. I’m doin’ pretty okay. I should be all healed up sooner than later. Then I can get back to all that good” - and sometimes illegal, you know how it is - “work I’m motherfuckin’ known for.”

He winks through Kravyt and she blushes, but it wasn’t really for her. That one was for the cameras - the rebels he had been helping for the past two sweeps. The clubs he bought out. The performers he had been recruiting. He wasn’t out of the game, and he wanted them to know that.

“And what about the church? How are they feeling about all of this? What about your friends?”

Marvus nods sagely at her question. “Well, my family ain’t to happy. Last I heard they were makin’ their own moves about this. Somethin’ about uppin’ security every-motherfuckin-where, and they hired some kickass to the case? Wild a-f. I ain’t all involved or nothin’ cuz, ya know, I’m a motherfuckin’ loud mouth and alla dat, but they’ve been supportive of me. And as for friends...”

He smiles a little, face as neutral as usual. “Well, they’re goin’ a lil’ SHITHIVE. I get it though. Somethin’ terrible happened to one of their friends, all because of Lanque. He’s gettin’ all sorts of people hurt with these weird motherfuckin’ antics. Who knows who’s gonna be all in the path next? Can’t imagine how hurted his cloister must be - they be their own sorta family, and I kinda feel some kinship about that. I know most trolls ain’t gettin’ what clowns got, but I know, if I up and imagine, it would suck if I fucked up and got a sister of mine hurt, you know?”

And that one was for Lanque.

“How kind of you to empathize with the associates and friends of a criminal. But that almost sounds just as juicy as this -”

“None of that, sis. This is just me havin’ my own fun. I mean, the church got him covered - I get somethin’ of my own, I think. I just wish his family the best.”

“You really have a gilded heart, don’t you?”

“Aww, I don’t know about that…”

“And so humble.” She giggles. “One last question, then.” Kravyt nods and finishes her scrawling. “It’s really good to see that you’re alive and well. Is there anything else you’d like to tell the good people at home?” Marvus turns to the camera to his left and gives another best winning smile. “I’ll be going on a whole new tour in three nights from now to celebrate my good health! Tickets are available now, and locations are listed up on my website. While you’re there, if you’re feelin’ up to it and know anything at all about the location of my attacker, there’s a text form you can submit, only available to people who’re signed up to my Fanclub.”

“It was lovely to have you on tonight,” the smiley four-eyed woman chirps pleasantly, offering her hand. He leans forward with an exaggerated wince, reciprocating the action. She looks at him with her own over-acted pity. “Thank you again, Marvus.

“...aaaand cut it! Start shutting this down. Good job, Marvus. We’ll get these all edited up and it should be going up as soon as it’s done. A day or so. You were wonderful as usual - only took three takes to get all the footage we need.”

Marvus stands and stretches, clapping his hands together once. “Glad we could do this, f-r. Hey, don’t be a stranger, sis - maybe we’ll get to talk without me actin’ like I ain’t ever been stabbed before, lmaooo.”

She shrugs. “I suppose it might be good for ratings - people really are obsessed with you. Who knew that a person could capitalize on their powers like this? Like, shit, I don’t get it, but clearly huffing your voodoo-vibes or whatever is better than coke.”

[btssavedmylifeblr]

I have a question, what is a proper word to use in replacement of "noona kink" as a non-Korean it kinda makes me feel weird to be referred to that, but idk how else to explain it. I don't want to be put in the same group as ped*s, but I like the power dynamic of a few year age difference(IM NOT A P*EDO IM ONLY 4 YEARS OLDER) plz help

Oof... I am soooo not the person to be answering this question. I am not Korean and my Korean language ability is akin to that of a toddler. But in an effort to encourage rather than shame genuinely curious discourse, I’ll attempt to unpack some of the things in this ask. 

1. There is no English language equivalent of the words oppa/noona/hyung/unnie. They denote closeness and are used between siblings, close friends, and boyfriends and girlfriends, so sometimes they have a platonic connotation and sometimes a sexual one. (Sidenote: I know some people will argue that it only has a platonic connotation and never a sexual one. Please weigh in on this if you are actually Korean. I don’t know for sure. But I will tell you a story. I once met a 46-year Korean man in an online language exchange who kept wanting me to call him oppa. I asked a Korean woman who is a friend of mine about it and she told me that was super creepy and weird. A few days later the dude starts telling me he loves me and how he wants to leave his wife and come to America to be with me. So at least for that Korean man, I think oppa had a sexual connotation.)

2. Talking about one of the boys having an “oppa kink” or “noona kink” is very different than saying you as a non-Korean have a “noona kink”. Saying something like “Yoongi has a oppa kink” would imply that Yoongi gets some sexual excitement from being addressed with a term in his own language that connotes respect and a sort of “older protective male” vibe. While saying something like that is a little weird because it is assuming the sexual preferences of a real person, I don’t think it is any weirder than saying something like “Yoongi is a bottom or Yoongi is a dom”. It’s weird, but I don’t think it fetishizes Korean culture because Yoongi himself is Korean and he might enjoy women of any ethnicity using that term with him. (BUT I don’t know for sure! I would be interested in opinions from Koreans. Koreans seem to disagree about this too though.)

3. HOWEVER, if you as a non-Korean say something like “I have a noona kink” that quickly becomes fetishizing. Because noona is not a word that exists in your language, so you’re getting off on the idea of a specifically Korean term that only Koreans would use. I think maybe you could say something like “I would love for Jungkook to call me noona” because Jungkook is a specific person who you might be attracted to because he is Jungkook and not just because he is Korean and “noona” would be the appropriate term for him to use with you, since he is Korean. But to say “I have a noona kink” implies that you would get off to any man (Korean or not) calling you “noona” which is either fetishizing the Korean term if you’re using it between two non-Koreans, or is fetishizing Korean men if you’re getting off on the idea of your partner being any Korean man just because he is Korean. So I definitely would not say “I have a noona kink” as a non-Korean. This is the main reason I stopped using noona in my reader insert stories. 

4. Pedophilia is a term that specifically means a sexual attraction to prepubescent children. I don’t know why the internet decided that attraction to 16 or 17 year olds or to anyone younger than you even if they are over 18 can be called pedophilia because it isn’t. Sexual activity with minors as an adult is morally abhorrent and wrong because of the power dynamics involved. But it is only pedophilia if the minors are children, not teenagers. And it definitely doesn’t apply when talking about a 25 year old crushing on a 20 year old. That’s not pedophilia. You are all adults. It bothers me when people use that term willy-nilly because it minimizes the trauma than can be done to children by predators by conflating it with other things that are less traumatic. 

5. It’s fine to have preferences but any preference becomes fetishistic when you only want that one thing to the exclusion of everything else. It’s fine to say you find younger men attractive and it’s fine to enjoy sexual power dynamics. It becomes fetishistic when you only date younger men because you need that power dynamic in order to get off. 

TLDR: Say you are attracted to younger men. Don’t use the phrase “noona kink”.

[lettucetacoboatsix]

Loving "Othered" Bodies: A Look at Sexual Body Diversity, Objectification, and Fetishization

Recommended Reading:

If you're looking for anything substantial, sorry, you're not going to find it here. What literature that does exist on this topic are sole-perspective ethnographies, and all of the ones worth reading that I was able to find were from the vantage point of a marginalized individual who has become fed up with body fetishization in their sexual interludes and relationships. That being said, here are the links to a few of those articles:

“What Everyone Should Understand about Dating a Trans Woman” by Tallulah Eve

“5 Signs You’re About to Be Racially Fetishized” by Maiysha Kai

“They Aren't Just Preferences: Questions Around Attraction, Objectification, and Fetishizing” by Tyler Austin

“Trans Women and Femmes Speak Out About Being Fetishized” by Eva Reign

“Feminism 101: What is Festishization?” By Laura Jue

“Disabled Sexuality and Disempowerment Through Fetishization” by s.e. Smith

“The Fetishization an Infantilization of Trans Men” by Seth Katz

 Recommended Viewing:

Pose

Bubblegum

 After talking at length about consensual non-monogamy, we will be changing directions this week and next and looking at some broader topics: body diversity and sexual safety. Both of these topics present a challenge in balancing general information with best practices because there is just so much to talk about, but I hope to present the information within these posts as a starting point, a gentle shove in the right direction, for you and your lover(s) to engage in your sexual relationship together from a foundation of mutual respect and understanding. So… away we go!

 Before We Begin:

First off, can I just say that I hate lumping everything that we're going to talk about into one category? Great. I hate that I am lumping everything that we're going to talk about into one category. It's problematic. It relies on the notion of the fabled norm. And it puts a whole bunch of people who are already being marginalized in some way into one group, and in doing that, it minimizes what people deal with day in and day out. 

 So why are we doing it this way? Well, for one, it makes the topic manageable, and this topic is definitely worth talking about, even if we're just giving a very general overview. It also serves to highlight just how widespread this issue is and hopefully shines a little light on how making assumptions or having certain expectations can really hurt someone.

 Another reason is that it hopefully drives home the point that there is no one way to effectively engage sexually with another person, with any body, our own included. Bodies are diverse and beautiful. They are the physical form of a complex and wonderful person, and each body needs to be treated with the respect and dignity it deserves. We need to understand that no two bodies are identical, and, even if they were, the body is only part of the sexual being. It is our mental and emotional connection to our body, partnered with the physicality and sensuality of the sexual act that really makes up our respective sexualities. If you're looking for a play-by-play guide on how to not fetishize someone, there are only a few things that we can share as blanket statements: treat everyone with dignity and respect; understand that people are people and not a means to achieve your sexual fantasies; listen to your lover (keeping that most communication is delivered non-verbally); always get consent and know that your partner can revoke their consent at any time; be patient and willing to adapt from your expectations (because it's nearly impossible, and would probably be a little dangerous, to enter into any given situation without any expectations). 

 Anything more specific than those general rules would necessarily be based on assumptions about the body and expectations based on your ideas and fantasies. So if you are looking for something along those lines, I would ask you to consider why you feel you need specific details. Are you looking for a shortcut to being a better lover? I appreciate your desire, but there really isn't one. If it's to trick someone into sleeping with you by avoiding key phrases, then I would argue that tricking someone in any way, shape, or form, in order to have sex with them negates their ability to be a willing participant (that is it prevents them from bring able to provide their informed consent, and is therefore assault). If that's really all you're looking for, be up front about it. There are individuals who are okay with that arrangement.

 An Introduction to Fetishization:

Several paragraphs later, it's probably important to actually clarify what exactly we're talking about. In the most general terms, fetishization is the sexualization of an object (especially an object that is not normally sexual) in order to achieve sexual fulfillment. When kept strictly in the realm of objects, it's relatively innocuous and to each, their own. If you want to watch your partner pop balloons between their thighs and your partner is on board, then, by all means, you do you. Fetishes are neither inherently good or bad, and this post is not meant to be in any way, shape, or form about kink-shaming. As long as your sexual preferences do not rely on the removal of another’s sexual agency, you’re free to explore and embrace whatever you can with your sexuality. But I hope that you can see how that becomes problematic when the object is replaced with an individual whose sole purpose you've determined is to help you fulfill a sexual fantasy. It is objectification of the individual and the body taken to the extreme. It removes that person's ability to take an active part in the sexual action and removes their agency in the fantasy.

 Fetishization of individuals can occur along the lines of any category of identity. Fortunately, there's been a lot of visibility given to racial fetishization and the fetishization of trans bodies recently, but there are definitely others that we tend to gloss over or even normalize, like objectification along the lines of age (almost every porn site has a category for barely legal teens, and most also have a mature, MILF, or step-mom category). We also tend to be okay with things that we can write off as parody (like fetishization of political leanings like the whole Nailin' Palin thing and the current alt-Right obsession with Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez), which should be examined further. But, again, these can happen within any category of identity that is a perceived deviation from the "norm" (in Patrick Warburton's Lemony Snickett voice: a word, which, here, means white, cisgender, able-bodied bodies), including, but not limited to: age, disability, economic status, ethnicity, gender identity, political beliefs, race, religion, sexual orientation, and size (height, weight, body proportions, and, yes, even relative genital size for all you size queens out there).  So realistically, more than half the planet. Now, this is not to say you cannot be attracted to someone for the way they align, or do not align, with your preferences among these identity categories; rather, it is to say that reducing any person to a check mark, or a few check marks, on that small list of boxes is, generally, not okay. 

 This isn't an admonishment against loving someone who is beyond your scope of whatever "normative" means to you. Nor is this going to be a discussion about the morality of the consumption of pornography (as long as it’s made ethically and is not at all exploitative, you’re welcome to watch whatever you want, including videos in thos aforementioned categories, just don’t force people to live up to that fantasy, especially if you’re not giving them a choice in the matter). We are all complex and wonderful beings, trying to lead the best lives we can, and it would certainly be lonely and naive, if not a little foolish, to think that the only person you could ever love is someone who aligns perfectly with that mythical norm. Taking a line from the post on polyamory, I want you to be open to love in all its forms and that means being open to allowing others to take part in that love the way they want to. 

 Is Fetishization ever Okay?

Generally speaking, in vanilla, day-to-day sexual encounters: emphatically no. Fetishization and objectification are not okay. But there is one instance in which that answer might change, and that is in the case of negotiated scene play, in which all participants discuss and agree to highlight that fetishization as part of a sexual encounter in order to role play or call attention to some form of power dynamic, so it's a kind of consensual fetishization, but it's still important, especially if those differences are real and not just fantasy, that safe words and gestures are utilized if any lines are crossed. This includes more kink-related things like age play, race play, feminization, master/slave relationships etc. But the key elements here are that there is an acknowledged end to the scene and that those terms have been negotiated.

 And this type of fetishization can be super beneficial for all participants. I've mentioned my research about using BDSM and power play to help recover from sexual trauma, so imagine the emotional release involved in acting out a race play revenge fantasy for someone who has lived through racial injustice, or a reversal of the power dynamic for a transwoman to be able to safely take on the role of dominating and feminizing a cishetero, alpha-male type. Again, these scenarios are not for everyone, or even for most, but they can be powerful and even transformative experiences. They can bring about a sense of renewal and rebirth, and if there was a traumatic sexual experience in the past, re-enacting a similar scene or the reversal of a scene with clearly negotiated power dynamics and rules can bring closure, understanding, and healing. But they need to be talked about before you take it upon yourself to immediately go into your own power play at the expense of your sexual partner’s agency.

 But now that all of that is out of the way, let's take a look at fetishization within the confines of some of those identity categories, how to reasonably recognize and address ways of thinking that might lead to fetishization, and provide some guidelines for engaging in a sexual relationship for people who happen to be "othered" in regards to their bodies and experiences.

 Racial Fetishization

Fetishization disproportionately affects people of color, which, unfortunately, isn’t all that surprising. Fetishization is the objectification of the body as a means to fulfill a sexual fantasy, and white people have been objectifying people of color for a long time; whether for a sexual purpose or as slave labor is somewhat immaterial. The focus has always been on bodies of color and how those bodies can, in some way, shape, or form benefit white society. We see it in historical examples like in the case of Sara Baartmen, one of at least two women of African-descent who were paraded around Europe as sideshow/freak show attractions in the 19th century, under the name “The Hottentot Venus,” because of her bodily proportions. We see it in the world of professional sports, and how the minute that women and men of color use that platform to make some form of political stance, they are reprimanded and taken out of the spotlight by powerful, old, white men. And we’re all aware of this phenomenon to some extent because it’s the basis of Jordan Peele’s Get Out, and that awareness is why the film was successful. Those who fetishize people of color don’t see them as romantic partners, or even whole people, but simply as sexual objects. They strip them of all the characteristics that make them complete and unique, reducing them to the colour of their skin.

 This racial fetishization commonly manifests by solely focusing on certain stereotypes associated with a race. This can run the gamut from ‘big butts’ of black women to the ‘submissiveness’ of Asian women to the hypersexualization of Latinx men and women. While many who express interest in these qualities expect it to be taken as a compliment, it isn’t. It’s not okay to tell a woman of color that you love her “light-skinned pussy” while going down on her, or calling your Latinx lover a Mayan god (if you do this, I firmly believe they are allowed to throw you head first into a cenote. See you in Xibalba!) Those were real examples provided in some of the articles I read, and I hope you can see how those might be offensive. Declaring that you are attracted to someone because of the color of one’s skin or a racial stereotype is not flattering; it’s just another form of objectification and sexual colonialism/imperialism. 

 It’s dehumanizing and objectifying. It’s systemic oppression in full force to maintain power over marginalized individuals by denying them their humanity and demanding that their sexuality is solely for the pleasure of others. And although this perceived power differential mostly benefits white men, there are plenty of white women who also fetishize their lovers along the lines of race, and this isn’t exclusive to heterosexual relationships. If her dating profile says she only fucks Black men, then she’s actually saying she only fucks Black men.

 It’s sexualized racism. If you believe you are entitled to a particular vision of a person of color in order to fulfill your sexual fantasy, you are stating that no matter how the relationship is formed or where the relationship goes, they are not an equal. They are not a partner. They are a stand-in for your own beliefs.  This fetishization is not a healthy attraction and it cannot lead to a healthy relationship; giving the benefit of the doubt to someone you believe means well is not always warranted. 

 Detecting Racial Fetishization

Fortunately, there are some ways to detect the potential for racial fetishization, but the number one way is to ask race-related questions, like “Have you ever been with a black girl before?” If their answer is something along the lines of “Yes. In fact, I only date black girls,” or “No, but I’ve always wanted to,” you know that they’ve already brought a certain set of expectations to being with you. Likewise, if they show an over-enthusiastic, unsolicited appreciation for “urban culture,” they’re not trying to impress you; they’re trying to tell you that you should like them because they get it, right? This includes disguising themselves as allies to the cause, in order for you to let your guard down. It might sound like that level of manipulation would be ridiculous, but it does happen. If that’s all they want to talk about and they expect you to be right there with them at every single protest all the time, chances are they are using you as a pawn in some sort of game to prove that they’re not racist. Anything that shows they are coming to the table with assumptions about who you are as an individual simply based on their observation of your skin color, which is in itself an objectification through the gaze, is a good indication about whether or not they might objectify you in this manner. 

 But how do I not fetishize people of color?

If you’re worried that you have fetishized people of color or might accidentally fetishize people of color at some point in the future, remember that as long as you’re actively attempting to recognize that all people possess an innate dignity and that all people are people, and are therefore worthy of love and respect, you’re on the right track. Decolonizing our minds is a life-long effort. No matter how hard we work to check our privilege, inevitably racial conditioning rears its ugly head, and we are faced with problems, perceptions and biases we thought we had tackled a long time ago, and that’s to be expected. Society fucks everyone up, but you can still train yourself to recognize those thoughts or biases and to not immediately act on them. That’s not to say that being “woke” some of the time is a carte blanche to have racist thoughts all the time; it is something you have actively work to correct.

 Fetishization of People with Physical Disabilities

 Yes, people with disabilities are still sexual beings. No, you aren’t doing them any favors by seeking them out because you heard that sex with a one-legged woman was absolutely mind-blowing (Seinfeld…). Like with racial fetishization, the fetishization of people with disabilities is rooted historically, and, specifically, has often been aligned with the entertainment industry. In the Middle Ages, people with physical and/or intellectual impairments played an important role in the royal courts as fools or jesters, where they were “allowed” a sense of satirical freedom, and at least during the 13th century, would often perform naked for royalty. This objectification of bodies with disability was once again brought to the forefront with the vaudevillian sideshow acts of the late 19th and early 20th centuries (this is an over-simplification, and those entertainment circuits did allow people with disabilities to support themselves in ways that usually were not afforded to them, but they did also depend on the exploitative nature of crowds and the gawking gaze), most obviously with Chang and Eng Bunker and the Hilton Sisters. And the fetishization of bodies with disabilities does very much still occur. This type of objectification, however, is typically easily identifiable, because people who have inclinations towards this type of fetishization, called “devotees,” tend to be focused on one particular impairment (e.g. people who are only sexually interested in people in wheelchairs), and their history of sexual partners generally points to a pattern, and, again, any act of fetishization that reduces a person to one aspect of their physical body is not okay.

 The bodies of people with disabilities are already dehumanized and marginalized in our society; this fetishizing only furthers this dehumanization. It’s not even about the attraction to the disability, it’s about the perception of weakness and helplessness and the assumption that the person with the disability somehow needs you. The problem is the sexualization of disability itself and the treatment of people with disabilities as sex objects. Again, this isn’t to say that it’s impossible for someone who is able-bodied to love a person with a disability. Because of this aspect of their identity, people with disabilities know how to overcome challenges that many of us don’t ever have to think about, and perseverance and resourcefulness are both really attractive qualities, but if that attraction is based on the perceived neediness of an individual with a disability it is a confirmation that that relationship will never be between equals.

 Fetishization of Transgender Identities

While racial fetishization tends to rely on histories of colonial and imperial oppression and stereotypes, the fetishization of transgender identities is focused more on the individual commiting that act of objectification rather than the person being fetishized. It’s an obsession with anatomy and questions of one’s own sexuality. It’s objectification to the point where the body of desire isn’t even considered as anything beyond a means to satisfy a curiosity.  And this isn’t exclusive to binary trans identities, though objectification of transwomen and transmen may be more recognizable; it also affects people who are non-binary, androgynous, and gender non-conforming, as well.

 If racial fetishization is sexual racism, then it follows that the fetishization of trans* bodies is sexual transphobia.  And while there are certainly people who will announce that they are transamorous or interested in sexually pursuing individuals who are trans, transphobia can also come under the guise of faux positivity. It’s insidious and manipulative, but a lot of people who express this desire to sexually engage with transbodies learn how to masquerade as allies. What’s worse is that these individuals also often try to make it seem like they are doing you a favor by being attracted to you and throwing themselves at you. But even the term “transamorous” removes the agency from the person being “desired.” It equates transwomen as feminine bodies with a penis and transmen as masculine bodies with a vulva, and, even though this might not even be the case, it reduces both to sexual objects. And the transgender aspect of a person’s identity is only part of a whole. It may very well be a key part of that identity, but people are not two dimensional characters in your fantasies. Again, this is not to say that you cannot love or be attracted to someone who is trans, but if your attraction is solely based on the objectification of a trans body, then we have a problem.

 Detecting Fetishization of Transgender Bodies

 Like with racial fetishization, the best indicator that someone is fetishizing your body’s status as being transgender is their fixation on that part of your identity. Are they asking questions about your progress in your transition? Are they demanding that you tell them what your dead name was? And again, are they “supportive” beyond what you’re comfortable with, inserting themselves into your legal or medical history? Unfortunately, these point to a set of very strict expectations, and if you fail to live up to those expectations, it can be dangerous. Not only is it possible for an errant touch or a hurtful phrase to trigger feelings of dysphoria, but often times, this failure to live up to an expectation can end in very real physical violence.

 I’m Dating Someone who is Trans and Don’t Want to Do Something Wrong:

Again, as long as you’re acknowledging that the person you are with is a fully-recognized human being beyond just their anatomy and this aspect of their identity, you’re on the right track, but the reality is that, because “transgender” is an umbrella term, there is a great deal of variety within the trans experience, and therefore a lot of variety when it comes to transbodies. There isn’t any one way to correctly love a person who is trans. Try to limit your expectations for any physical intimacy and let things happen naturally if it gets to that point. Be open and honest about your relationship, don’t hide it away from the world. This is, after all, a person and not some dirty little secret. And don’t treat the experience like a science experiment or a litmus test for your sexuality. Being with someone who is trans has no impact on your sexuality and is really not anything to be ashamed of. If you identify as a cishet guy and you are attracted to a woman only to later find out the she happens to be trans, guess what? She's still a woman, and you are still a cishet guy. It's weird that people focus on what is, or is not, in between someone's legs. We all have parts that interlock with others' parts, and we're all pink on the inside. Why is genitalia a deal-breaker for you, when everything else about the person is wonderful and beautiful and moments before you were attracted to her? We, as a society, need to start raising the bar above just treating folk who are trans with a base-level of respect as a sign that we’re good people because it's really not that difficult and not that complicated.

 In the event that your relationship does become physically intimate and you’re nervous about what to expect, ask your partner to take the lead. This doesn’t mean they have to take on a dominant role, but allow them to set the pace, if you’re unsure. Let them guide your hand, your mouth, whatever. Again, being with any person for the first time is a moment of sexual exploration, and a great means for the exploration is mutual masturbation, if you’re both up for that. Watching your partner explore their own body, or holding them as they touch themselves and learning how their body reacts can be a very erotic experience. And if neither of you is really into voyeurism or exhbitionism whatsoever, you can engage in sexually explicit conversation. Pay attention to what words your partner uses and which ones they avoid. Learn how to communicate effectively with your partner to avoid phrases that might trigger a negative reaction, and remember that a large portion of communication is non-verbal. There are very clear differences between an aroused, quick inhale and a frustrated sigh or ceasure of breath. Likewise, there is a difference between an excited shiver or an arching of the back to meet your touch and a wince from a hand passing over a part of the body that might cause a feeling of dysphoria, but remember, even if you’ve been with someone who is trans in the past, there is no universal transgender experience of sensuality. As with any lover and any body, it takes getting to know your partner.

 Another thing you can do is to expand your understanding of the things that you find sexy. No lover is ever going to be a perfect fit for any given sexual fantasy. By learning what turns you on, you not only learn to communicate your desires effectively to your partner, but you also give your partner a chance to show their affection for you effectively. If your partner is presenting as masculine and is wearing a binder, but you have a thing for lingerie and undressing your partner, don’t force them or even ask them to remove their binder if it’s not something they’re offering. Instead, you could give them your dress shirt and help them to button it up. The clothing is still a part of the scene for you, and you get to go through the sensuality of dressing your partner, which might very well be a new experience for you. And at the end of it all, it shows your partner that you understand something that might cause them discomfort and are actively trying to meet them on their level, and you get to see that person wearing your clothes, which can be its own erotic little experience. Again, that’s not to say that all transmen or people who are non-binary and are at that moment presenting as masculine are going to find that endearing or sexy, but it’s about compromise and sexual negotiation and it shows you’re paying attention to your lover’s needs, and there isn’t much in this world that is sexier than that.

 Is that everything?

Certainly not, and, again, I hate to present the material in this way, but it is too broad of a topic to try and cover all at once and it’s too important a topic to not cover at all. This is the starting point of the conversation. Like we said at the beginning, fetishization of an object is really neither good or bad; it is simply the manifestation of sexual attraction, but there is certainly a problem if you apply that mindset to individuals and reduce them to sexual objects to fulfill your own sexual desires without their informed consent. This type of fetishization can really occur along the lines of any identity category and is certainly not limited to the three we went into above. If you’re interested in this topic, please read the articles that I included under recommended reading. If you ever need someone to talk to, I am here for you. If you would like me to go into more detail or think I got something wrong, tell me or send me an anonymous ask!

 With love, friends.

[star-spangled-bastard]

✩ House and X?

 this is a long-ass post

(cut out the family section because they should not be responsible for children)

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice?

Xenophon. he’s already loud by nature and quicker to anger.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does?

I’m not sure either of them would. X definitely wouldn’t because he wouldn’t know what to do.

Who actually keeps their word and leaves?

if it happened it would probably have to be X since he’s the only one who technically can leave.Who trashes the house?

X

Do either of them get physical?

The closest I can see it getting is one grabbing the other by the shoulders to get their attention in a moment of frustration but nothing beyond that.

How often do they argue/disagree?

they argue in an insignificant, bickering kind of way all the time. more serious disagreements are rarer.

Who is the first to apologize?

X. because seriously, can you picture House apologizing for anything?

Sex:

Who is on top? Who is on the bottom?

it’s probably a constant struggle because they’re both tops. they’d probably have to work something out that minimizes the top/bottom dynamic

Who has the strangest desires?

they’re probably pretty evenly matched considering they both have a past with robots

Any kinks?

aside from robots X wouldn’t object to having his hands bound with a necktie

Who’s dominant in bed?

there’s no way it wouldn’t be House. X usually is with literally any other person but he also knows when he doesn’t stand a chance and that’s it.

Is head ever in the equation? If so, who is better at performing it?

probably, and X would be better because of having more experienceEver had sex in public?

nope!

Who moans the most?

I’m going to assume House would because he’d be more overwhelmed having a human body again after so long

Who leaves the most marks?

X. especially when he’s been on psycho

Who screams the loudest?

X, again because he’s just loud in general

Who is the more experienced of the two?

probably X just because House had more important priorities before the war

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?

that would vary from one situation to the next

Rough or soft?

also varies. probably tends towards rough though

How long do they usually last?

I feel like that would depend a lot on what drugs X was or was not on at the time

Is protection used?

I’m going to assume yes

Does it ever get boring?

this question just gave me the most vivid mental image of them just talking business the whole time so I’m gonna say yes, it would get boring at least in that sense.

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex?

it’s not so much the place that’s weird but if the whole “let me scan your brain” thing counts, that’s definitely it.

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle?

X

Who is the little spoon?

they probably switch but X prefers it

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?

X “I have no shame” Weber

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?  

X. this is just turning into a callout

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?

not long enough, as far as X is concerned

Who gives the most kisses?

it’s probably about even

What is their favourite non-sexual activity?

they’re into the whole wine-and-dine thing

Where is their favourite place to cuddle?

in bed. they’re both tall so there isn’t much room anywhere else

Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? 

X

How often do they get time to themselves?

that’s basically all they have, whether that’s a good or bad thing

Sleeping:

Who snores?

probably both

If both do, who snores the loudest?

X

Do they share a bed or sleep separately?

they share, they just aren’t good at it at first

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?

they probably start out close together and wake up farther apart

Who talks in their sleep?

I was going to say X, but I could kind of see House doing that too

What do they wear to bed?

probably some regular undershirt and boxers combo

Are either of your muses insomniacs?

X barely sleeps like no one knows how he’s a functional person

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?

probably not, or X would be using them

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?

they probably first started out laying side by side until over time they got less awkward about it and had more contact

Who wakes up with bed hair?

X. his hair and his beard would get messed up

Who wakes up first?

House for sure

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other?

X would do that when he had just never slept in the first place because it’s the only way he’d be awake before House

What is their favourite sleeping position?

probably close together but not necessarily holding on to each other. like their hands would be touching but that’s probably it.

Who hogs the sheets?

they’re in a constant battle over who has custody of the sheets

Do they set an alarm each night?

whether there’s an alarm or not, House probably gets up at like 5 am every morning and X wakes up whenever

Can a television be found in their bedroom?

no

Who has nightmares?

X, especially after the events of Dead Money

Who has ridiculous dreams?

probably also X

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed?

X definitely

Who makes the bed?

X whenever he eventually wakes up

What time is bed time?

probably fairly early, though it’s rarely adhered to

Any routines/rituals before bed?

X always showers in an attempt to get the sand off. they both listen to the radio

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?

X. just look at how well he handled being thawed out after 200 years.

Work:

Who is the busiest?

they both do a lot of work, but House has more

Who rakes in the highest income?

House

Are any of your muses unemployed?

nope!

Who takes the most sick days?

I don’t think either of them is capable of taking a day off. X probably hated having to recover from the lightning incident.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work?

X

Who sucks up to their boss?

This whole thing could basically be interpreted as X sucking up to his boss

What are their jobs?

X was a lead engineer for Robco prewar. with House’s political power post-war his job is harder to define because he’s leveraging power instead of building machines.

Who stresses the most?

X. he never learned the emotional repression House has.

Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations?

I feel like X has to like it. he woke up after society as he knew it collapsed and he could start over clean but he decided he wanted to keep being a corporate drone and he did it.

Are your muses financially stable?

stable and then some

Home:

Who does the washing?

both

Who takes out the trash?

X

Who does the ironing?

probably House. I wouldn’t trust X with an iron.

Who does the cooking?

they both do some. X has to help with some of the substitutions in recipes because he’s more familiar with the wasteland

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying?

X

Who is messier? 

also X. but in the “I know where everything is” kind of way

Who leaves the toilet roll empty?

I feel like neither of them would

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor?

X would if he was really tired and had been out all day but otherwise they’d both be good about not doing that.

Who forgets to flush the toilet?

neither. seriously everything is probably pristine at all times.

Who is the prankster around the house?

X. if you think he wouldn’t put an image of his own face on that monitor once House is a synth you’ve got another thing coming.

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere?

House would

Who mows the lawn?

if there was one, X.

Who answers the telephone?

House

Who does the vacuuming?

listen these people would have like 10 roombas they made themselves.

Who does the groceries?

X

Who takes the longest to shower?

they probably both take forever but X slightly more because of the dust from outside.

Who spends the most time in the bathroom?

X because he has to maintain his beard

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem?

it could not be less of a problem

How many cars do they own?

post-war none, but I’m pretty sure X has a motorcycle he repaired

Do they own their home or do they rent?

they probably own several places

Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside?

countryside technically

Do they live in the city or in the country? 

city

Do they enjoy their surroundings?

generally yes, though X likes to get out into the desert sometimes

What’s their song?

out of the in-game songs, probably Blue Moon

as far as general period-appropriate songs, Where or When

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

work, mostly

Where did they first meet?

I don’t have the specifics pinned down but it was some company function fairly soon after X first started working for Robco.

How did they first meet?

someone who had been working there for years already introduced terrified 20-something year old X to House

Who spends the most money when out shopping?

they’re probably about the same

Who’s more likely to flash their assets?

I would say X, but since most of the Strip is a testament to House’s resources, it’s him

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over?

X

Any mental issues?

X is pretty messed up after Dead Money

Who’s terrified of bugs?

X

Who kills the spiders around the house?

House does because X would be too dramatic

Their favourite place?

it’s a tie between the cocktail lounge and the pool area at the Tops

Who pays the bills?

considering the situation, I’m not sure there are any?

Do they have any fears for their future?

they had quite a few before the battle but things got better after that

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner?

House

Who uses up all of the hot water? 

X

Who’s the tallest?

I’m accepting the theory that House is 6′4″ and X is 6′5″ so he’s barely taller and never lets House forget

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?

X

Who wanders around in their underwear?

X does that a lot

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?

X for sure

What do they tease each other about?

almost everything. X likes to pull the whole “no fun allowed” thing on House. House jabs at X about “inappropriate workplace behavior”

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?

House. he doesn’t understand why X would wear jorts or a helmet made of an animal skull

Do they have mutual friends?

Victor, Jane, and to a lesser extent some of the Chairmen

Who crushed first? 

X. by about 200 years.

Any alcohol or substance related problems?

X likes mentats, jet, and psycho, though psycho is the main one that’s a problem for him.

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am?

X

Who swears the most?

definitely X

[riverdaleroundup]

Riverdale Roundup: 2x14“ The Hills Have Eyes”

Oh hey. It’s me. That bitch you hate. It’s been a hot damn minute but i’m ready for some fresh ass teenage angst. The journey to get a link to watch this god forsaken show has been TREACHEROUS! The lord has been punishing me for not having basic satellite in my dorm room and not having the patience to wait for midnight for this shit to come on  Netflix. Like I feel like Jesus is pressuring me to go down to my communal living area and watch TV with the plebs who live on my floor but I would rather shave off my eyebrows than interact with these people. So after YEARS of looking for a good link I've finally made it. I would like to thank not only God but Jesus.

First off we need to address that Chic is just so damn creepy and also a truly awful house guest. Like don’t drink out of the juice carton and don’t use Betty's shower.  He’s going to get written up in page six for being an ungrateful house guest. Also him standing on the stairs waving will haunt my dreams for weeks to come.

Cheryl is not that pleased that her mom is still pimping herself out to the men of Riverdale. Penelope is pissed that Cheryl ruined her chance at happiness with Hal, but really who loves Hal? Penelope comes for her 15 year old daughter over having never been in love. Like she’s in 10th grade but whatever.

Hiram offers Veronica and Archie the lake house for the weekend and i’m like ummmmm. What father sends their child out on a romantic getaway? Also Veronica demand's not to have a chaperone and Daddy just agrees? Like I’m 20 and I feel like I need a chaperone still. If my mom isn’t coming with me on a trip I feel unsafe. Like excuse me where are the adults? Who is going to hold my passport?

Oh so it’s a safe house. I get it now. He’s not just looking to facilitate his daughter getting dicked down.

FP and Jughead need a new place to live since the whole of Sunnyside trailer park is getting evicted. Tragically there is minimal affordable housing in Riverdale and FP works at a diner. Yikes.

All of my hopes prayers have come true and Moose has finally graced our screens. I think he got hotter.  Like his face thinned out a bit and his hair looks good and he’s got that jean jacket and i’m INTO IT.

So is this whole scene just an ad for Love Simon? We get it. The movies coming out. Are Moose and Kevin secretly hooking up or like? What is Midge supposedly so cool with? Or is it just that she knows that they went down to the river to hook up and casually found a dead body?  

I honestly just want Moose and Kevin to be together. Who cares about Midge? Not I.

Veronica is like our lake house is “rustic” and i’m like really bitch? I doubt that. Do you want to see rustic?  Would you like to see my canvas tent complete with plywood walls that my father built and a composting toilet? It’s a yurt bitch. Look it up. But like not a mud hut. Don’t get it twisted.

Jughead is only into going to this cabin so that he can get some Intel on the Lodges. Betty like doesn’t love that idea. She needs to get away from her creepy ass brother and i’m like girl he has caused so much trouble just send that bitch back to the youth hostel where he belongs.

So if life was normal Alice would never let her kid go on an over night sex weekend but I guess now that they are covering up a murder she’s a little more lax with the rules. It’s hard to lecture your daughter about responsibility when she witnessed you mopping up the blood of a drug dealer.

Chic is so damn creepy. I’m done with him.

What I want to know is why would the Lodges go to this lake house for the summer? They are so Hampton's people. They should be off rubbing elbows with Ramona Singer and Luann De Lesseps.

Can I just say that Andre is honestly hot. Homebody can like get it.

Archie is shook that Andre has a gun as if he wasn’t walking around locked and  loaded only a handful of episodes ago.

Lodge Lodge. Really Veronica? How clever.  Florals? For spring? Ground breaking.

Cheryl  is pissed that she couldn’t come on the couples weekend so she calls jughead to ruin their getaway because she’s a petty bitch and I adore it.  Stir up the shit girl. Stir it up.

Jughead is pissed. This is why Betty should have come clean before. Like you kissed Archie. You didn’t have a secret love child together. It’s not a big deal.

I adore that Cheryl introduces herself with her twitter handle. She’s looking to gain followers. She’s ready to be a social media influencer.

Toni tries to play therapist to Cheryl and she is not having it. Like don’t touch her sans consent.

I know that i’ve said this before but Archie has the world's largest head. We know it’s not holding a big brain so like what’s up there? Extra storage space? Room for activities?

Why do they need to unpack their stuff? They’re staying there for like 2 days. I don’t unpack when i’m staying somewhere for 2 weeks. I just rummage through my suitcase like a drifter looking for cans in the trash bin .

Jughead and Betty promptly make up about the whole Barchie kiss thing  and then hear Archie and Veronica getting it on.A friendly reminder that these children are 15. This feels wrong.  Jughead has a point. All Veronica and Archie know how to do is fuck. Like what do they actually talk about?

Jughead goes digging for info and Betty does not love it.  Veronica assumes that they are still pissy about the kiss so she suggests that they all unwind in the jacuzzi.

So everybody is going hot tubbing. I miss my hottub. If my dad could just like do a girl a solid and fill that ish back up again I would be very grateful. Give me all the chemicals.

Veronica is like “ just so things aren’t awkward I think that Jughead and I should make out just like really quick.”   Very sound logic. See this is actually something that 15 year olds would do. Although under normal circumstances they wouldn’t be on a sex getaway in the woods funded by one of the girls fathers.

All of these characters are way to self aware with their ship names. Jughead just used bughead and Vughead all in one sentence.

Veronica and Jughead kiss and it’s awkward for all. All that’s left is for Archie and Jughead to kiss and everything will be Gucci. Honestly at this point who hasn’t Archie kissed?

Betty puts on her awkward ass cam girl outfit and then her and Jughead get it on real quick.  Evidently she watched the new fifty shades of grey movie and is feeling very sexually liberated. Someone needs to oil the bed springs in this house. Just saying.

Archies doesn’t want to talk or have sex so really he and veronica are at a loss. Talking was a stretch in the first place.

Archie chops wood the next morning so he can get out some of his sexual frustration about watching his best friend make out with his girlfriend and then he scampers off to meet Andre in the woods

Why does Veronica have an umbrella? It’s not raining.

Joise is pissed that her mom is sniffing around the Sheriff. She’s not down for this whole affair thing.  Oh so Josie's dad knows about Sierra and ‘Tom’. Did we know that that was his name prior to this? Did I just miss it because i’m always referring to him as Sheriff Silver fox or Hot Dad?

Oh so is the sheriff really going to leave his wife? You know what they say….They never leave the wife.

Juggie and Archiekins  chat about the time that their girlfriends made out and then Archie is like btw really sorry about making out with your girlfriend. Jughead points out just how incestious their group is and predicts that they are probably going to explode at some point. Foreshadowing my dudes.

Also why are they sitting four feet across from each other throwing a football? Is this what boys do?

Josie spills the beans to Kevin about the affair and it’s a very Cheryl move. Throwing out all that drama. Destroying families one step at a time.

Veronica confirms with Betty that she and Jughead have been doing the deed and she literally praises the lord that Betty and Jughead have moved past holding hands and hugging. She didn’t want to be the only non virgin female of the group. Betty also admit that she likes to dress up in the worst wig ever known to man to make their special time together more exciting. Maybe keep that to yourself girl.

So Hiram bought the trailer park for the serpents but really what's good? Jugheads detective senses are tingling.

I love Moose so much. If Midge could just go away that would be ideal. She can go do jingle jangle with someone else and leave Moose to Kevin.

“ I’m just going to this gay rom com alone.” Same Kevin. Same

Midge is like “ we need to find you someone” and Kevin is like “ yeah how about your boyfriend?”

I’m confused. Does Midge know that Kevin and Moose like got it on once upon a time or not? I’m feeling like it’s a no tbh.

Are there really so many desperate men in Riverdale that Penelope can keep a steady stream of business? Does she have to scour Greendale for potential suitors as well?

So glad Josie and Kevin are friends now. It will make being step siblings so much easier.

Riverdale has moved from being sponsored by covergirl to being sponsored by upcoming teen rom coms. This is only slightly more subtle than a focus in shot on the lash blast mascara.

The Lodges are so rich but they can’t even afford the monopoly with the credit cards? Shame.

Hiram bought the riverdale register? What the heck Hal? You fool. I’m also confused because I thought that the Lodges were fresh out of cash. They supposedly “risked it all” building to Sodale thing but yet they can afford to buy Pops and the town paper + a trailer park? These New York investors must of come in hard with the cash.

Oh there is mad tension in this friend group rn.  Jughead is like : Archie you’re really stupid” which I mean at this point is a well known fact. Archie calls Jughead and Betty boring and paranoid .Betty calls Veronica sexually manipulative. Veronica kink shames Betty. This is relationship health. Have they finally reached the point in high school where all your friends turn on you and nothing is ever the same?

A bunch of townies break in to defuse the tension between the ‘ core four’. We all know it’s you under that hood Cassidy. I recognize that flannel.

Veronica hits the panic button in her room because of course she has one of those. That’s honestly my dream.  Give me a panic button. Give me a panic room. Please.

The townies run off when the alarm goes off but one of them steals Veronicas necklace and for some reason that really sets Archie off. Like is this necklace significant? It’s not even her pearls.

Andre really casually shots this guy. Like same. Hope he got grammas scone recipe first.

Josie and Kevin call a family meeting of their new little clan. Honestly blended family goals. Adam Sandler would be proud.

Cheryl  kind of comes out very casually Toni. Toni is Bi, Cheryl is not straight.  It’s the beginning of a love story. Tale as old as time.  Are we ever going to address Cheryl being creepy with Josie or are we going to just let that slide?

Hiram asks Archie if he’s pissed that Andre shot a teenager and Archie is like  “ Nah fam. I regret not shooting the black hood. Shoulda never threw my gun in the river”.

Hiram reminds Archie that all those who hesitate are lost so like don’t pussy out next time.

Jughead is really creeped out by Chic and i’m like same bro. Get that crack addict out of here. The issue being that Chic has really nice bone structure but he’s too gaunt to be truly hot so it really takes away from the appeal of his character. At this point he’s just some freaky kid who hangs around the house and eat cereal while making full eye contactt. It’s a no from me fam. Also he constantly looks constipated. Get some smooth move tea girl.

[danilanidingdong]

My partner was targeted by a predator - a small NYC director.

Please be aware that the following writing discusses kink, LGBTQ+ issues, assault, misgendering, and other topics that are generally not feel good issues. It is in regards to how my partner was treated. She’s read this and given their stamp of approval on posting this. Not because we want folks to feel bad, but because we legitimately want to warn people about a predator.

I’d like to start this off with some personal information. Typically in a situation like this, individual details aren’t necessary, but in this case, I believe it’s important to form a foundation.

My partner and I live quite happily and openly under the queer umbrella. We also function very vocally in kink circles. We don’t believe in kink shaming. We have no qualms with strange kinks. As long as everyone involved consents, we have zero issues.

It’s the consent thing that was recently violated when my partner was assaulted by a so-called director for a short film.

My partner was using a casting website with a very professional reputation (Netflix and Stars have used this site), and she was contacted by a small production company in response to seeing her resume.

The short of it was that this director was looking for LGBTQ+ folks for his social commentary werewolf short films. My partner was so excited, showing me everything that this director sent her. What I was shown was short, but seemed fine. It appeared to be a small budget production company, and the script was nothing to write home about, but honestly it didn’t seem like a bad start. And it paid! The casting website even gave him a neat little verified check to assure performers that they’d been vetted by the site.

The more she talked to the director, the more excited she got. Finally! Someone that wanted to make awesome werewolf content that focused on queer communities! She was excited to show the director what she already had from her costume closet for werewolf makeup and fangs, and he seemed excited to work with her. He suggested possibly using contact lenses, along with some minimal makeup and light use of prosthetics.

When she arrived at the shoot, though. She was met with only the director. No team. In his parent’s empty apartment. Instead of the fake nails that he had explained to her in the interview, he informed her that they would be going to a salon and getting acrylic nails put on. This isn’t necessarily a problem, but anyone who’s had acrylic nails applied knows how difficult (read: impossible) they are to get off quickly. Fake stick-on nails (which he said would be used) are cheaper, and in an emergency, can pop off rather quickly. Acrylic nails are typically an investment of both time and money. Seriously, if you’ve never had them, ask someone who has. Those suckers don’t budge.

But the director didn’t make a big deal out of it. My partner wasn’t very experienced in the film industry, so she took his word for granted.

My partner then spent two hours at a nail salon near the apartment, and while everyone around her was getting French tips, she couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed by the six inch claws that the nail technician was crafting. When some of the other salon customers asked, she proudly informed them “It’s for a werewolf movie!” - in an attempt to save herself from some embarrassment. But the director cut her off, and said “No, don’t tell them that.”

Once the nails were on, she realized that she couldn’t use her hands for anything. Her dexterity was destroyed with these huge, thick claws, and she relied entirely on the director for any fine motor skills.

Still, nothing seemed off. She would film this short scene and be done. When they returned to the apartment, he told her to put contacts in. She expressed discomfort. It was already very difficult for her to function with the nails, would it be possible to try filming without the contacts? 

No. She had to wear contacts.

They had this conversation in his bathroom, where he blocked her with his body from leaving the bathroom until she agreed to wear the contacts.

Because of her nails, the director had to put the lenses in for her, and once they were in, she noticed something else that was a little off.

She could not see with the contacts in.

She now relied entirely on this director for even basic functions, but even then he did not provide her with what she needed. She was not given water at any time during the entire 8 hour filming.

He started asking extremely uncomfortable questions as soon as she was physically unable to leave.

He noted that her resume indicated “nonbinary” as her gender, so he asked plainly, “So that means you have both right? Both sets?”

She was taken aback, and he was rather crestfallen when she explained what nonbinary meant, and she steered the incredibly inappropriate conversation away from her genitalia.

Which he kept bringing up. Repeatedly.

He talked frequently about the character that she was playing, and made her very aware that after her werewolf transformation, her character had “both sets of genitals”. Information that would be important for an actor, sure, but the way he brought it up and discussed it was entirely sexual.

He told her “Let’s just do some improv, no script.”

When he started asking her to touch him with her nails, she realized that she was filming a fetish video.

That was when she shifted into survival mode. He continued trying to make sexual conversation while they filmed, but she would shut down his advances in any attempt to get out of the vision blocking contacts quicker. She felt trapped, unable to leave due to her inability to see or hold anything.

The director mentioned, while filming, that the concept of my partner growing a penis during her werewolf transformation was “getting him hard”, and he kept insinuating that her actions were causing him sexual arousal. She mentioned having a partner as a defense strategy, and he asked if she (in other words: me) would be interested in bringing that partner around in order to shoot a lesbian scene.

In addition to this, he openly spoke of his work with other performers, and it became clear that he was using this casting site to find LGBTQ+ performers in order to find very specific people for his fetish work. It was only then that it became clear that he was looking for trans folks for his performances, in order to act out his fetish. He kept the information quiet during the talent scouting phase, but specifically sought out individuals under the LGBTQ+ umbrella for sexual reasons only, not actual inclusivity. It was only driven home by the near constant misgendering of his previous performers that he frequently spoke about. He told my partner he was trying to create inclusive media. He spoke at length regarding his obsession and sexual fetish for women with penises. The wording he used was dated at best, and offensive at worst.

There was so much, little pieces that my partner remembers from that day as she recovers, things like how he mentioned stopping people on the street to take pictures of their nails, how he worked with a lot of adult entertainers (and misgendered them frequently), and worryingly, minors. Things that on their own wouldn’t raise eyebrows, but when put together becomes a rather disturbing depiction of a predator.

Had she not been on her toes and aware of the situation, my partner doesn’t doubt that this director would have tried to push her boundaries further. He asked her to sensually touch her chest with her nails, and focused on the importance of the ASMR - or the sound the nails made. She skirted the sexuality as best as she could, keeping things professional until she could leave - not that he had earned professionalism after lying to her, but she was simply trying to get him to remove the nails and contacts as quickly as possible.

Afterwards, he requested an exit interview. Desperate to leave, she wondered if she could film it at home and send it to him. He refused, and added that he would only clip the end of her nails so she could leave if she did this exit interview. When he deemed the interview over, he forced her to behave in a bizarre perky way before he would clip each nail, even when he was told that the force of the nail clipping was painful. What was left behind were jagged, thick acrylic stubs that were still difficult to use, but not as difficult as the full nails.

Now, let it be said, neither of us have any issues with fetish videos. So long as everyone involved consents. However, my partner was utterly unable to consent. She was lied to about the project itself, and everything involved with it. This wasn’t a production team, it was a solitary director with a camera who wanted to film sexual gratification videos. 

And the pay?

Well, the nail technician who applied the nails got a total of $145, including tip.

My partner received $100, and as she left he put in an additional $20 for her to “get the nails removed at a salon”. 

Not only was my partner lied to, but she was then physically kept under this director’s control with the nails and contacts that he made her wear. She was unable to leave, and continuously harassed and asked wildly inappropriate questions by someone who was claiming to be an ally, when in reality, he was a predator. He seeks out LGBTQ+ performers in order to film them for his own sexual exploits under the guise of creating inclusive characters and stories.

The lies are where consent is no longer possible. Because of this, my partner filed a complaint and he was removed from the casting website. That being said, we’re still concerned that he won’t stop at that, and will only move to other spaces. He already admitted to using OnlyFans to find performers, and his open conversation about hiring minors has left it hard to sleep at night. Again, absolutely nothing is wrong with minors in film, but judging by the way that this man refused to be open about the nature of his work, it’s a parallel that I’m uncomfortable just leaving without an attempt to stop it.

Part of the healing process has been going public with this experience. I’m never one to speak on behalf of someone, but writing clearly about your own trauma can be harrowing, which is why I offered to write this on behalf of my partner. 

If this production company continues to hire performers, they need to be transparent with their intentions. Not another human being should feel so manipulated and helpless after being assured that they would be doing something positive for the queer community.

Please share this. Please spread this. Please do not let another individual suffer the way that my partner unfortunately has. The production company is called Exiram Productions. They’re easy enough to find on youtube, but I cannot stress enough that what is available there is not at all any indication of what was actually filmed the day my partner experienced this harassment. His secondary company that he works under is called Were-Creature Videos. That particular production company is what my partner filmed for, but she was originally approached by Exiram Productions, and was given absolutely no indication about the sexual nature of filming.

If you’re in the NYC area, please be careful of this person who is seeking out the queer community in order to fetishize them without their consent.

Happy Pride.

Eat a brick, Alexis. 

[iminclinedtowriting]

I’m here too, Mum... (Chpt 2)

title: I’m here too, Mum… summary: Dan’s first year of uni was stressful and, honestly, didn’t go great. But he’s got Phil, and he’s got youtube, and (apparently) he’s got a supportive family. After coming out, Dan (finally) brings Phil home to meet his family for his birthday and his cousin’s wedding. words: 1200 genre: fluff, established relationship, time: June 2011 series: My Youth Is Yours part: 2 chapter: 2/5 [[ao3]] [[previous chapter]]

The train window feels cool against my forehead. When we first got on the train, I rested my head in hopes of sleeping through the ride (seeing as that nap Phil suggested never happened *ahem*), but I gave up ten minutes in and resigned myself to watching the scenery flash by. Phil wandered off to the bathroom 15 minutes ago (rude), leaving me without any distraction from my worries.

What if my extended family doesn’t take the I-have-a-boyfriend thing as well as Mum? What if Mum breaks out the baby album and tells embarrassing stories? What if Adrian reveals actual dirt on me? What if Mum and Dad don’t like Phil? Impossible, right? What if Great Aunt Edna –

“Dan,” Phil’s voice jars me from my thoughts. “I brought you something.” I pry my head off the window. Phil’s holding two personal sized bottles of wine in his left hand: one red and one white. “You seem stressed. I thought you might want something to take the edge off.”

Alcohol. Yes, good. Alcohol.

I smile gratefully up at Phil and snatch both mini bottles from his grasp. “Thanks. What are you going to drink?”

“Well, I was planning on whichever one of those you didn’t choose.” I hold them close to my chest. My alcohol. Phil shakes his head, smirking with amusement. “…But I’ll manage just fine without if you want both.”

And the best boyfriend award goes to...!

I quickly glance around us. To our right is an elderly man working on a crossword puzzle. Across from us is a middle-aged woman engrossed in a copy of The Secret. Okay then. The rest of the seats are empty.

Quickly, I press a surreptitious kiss to Phil’s cheek. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

The twist top on the wine bottle makes a loud crack sound as the seal breaks. Without hesitating, I bring the bottle up to my lips to take a swig.

“As utterly classy as you look drinking straight from the bottle in public, I did bring you a glass, you know.” Phil passes me a disposable stemless wine glass. Blushing a little, I take the glass from Phil and pour the remainder of the wine into the glass. Phil sits patiently silent while I finish the red wine and waits to speak until I unscrew the white.

“So, do you want to talk about what is making you so anxious?”

I pour the white wine into the glass, which tinges slightly pink from the last few drops of red wine at the bottom of the glass.

“What gives it away?”

“You mean other than the alcohol?” Phil laughs good-naturedly. “For starters, you were tapping your fingers so much I thought you were going to drum a hole in your trousers. Not to mention you’ve been painfully silent since we boarded.”

“Am I really that easy to read?”

“To me, yes. Now stop avoiding the question, what’s on your mind?”

I take another sip of wine before I answer. For support, dammit. “The whole thing I guess.”

Phil glares at me unamused. “Okay, want to take a stab at which parts in particular?”

“Honestly, with my family, the boyfriend thing really isn’t bothering me. For the wedding, with all the extended family, yeah a little, but with Mum and Dad and Adrian, I think I would be just as freaked out if you were a girl, tbh.”

“But you’ve brought someone home before?”

“Yeah, I guess. But like, I was 14 when I brought Sarah home for the first time. It wasn’t really a big deal and after the first time it was even less of a big deal. When you bring someone home when you’re that young, no one takes it seriously or gives a shit. It’s just kind of what you do because there’s not really another option. But, like, now… Now I’m like intentionally bringing you home to ‘meet the family’ and it feels so much more important.”

Phil’s eyebrows wrinkle together. “Do you regret deciding to bring me?” He looks concerned.

Fuck, that’s not how I meant it.

“NO! I mean, it feels more important because it literally is more important and I like it that way. I want to show you off because you’re such a big part of my life. I want them to love you because I love you. Nerves just mean you care, right?”

Phil smiles sheepishly. “Awe I love you too.”

“Enough to go get me another bottle of wine?” Phil raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “What? They’re tiny.”

“You’re incorrigible. I’ll get you another one after we finish this discussion.”

Humff. “Fine.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m nervous too. Weirdly, not as nervous as you seem to be, but nervous. We’re planning to live together in the fall – I mean, not that we aren’t now, but like formally share the same lease in the fall – and I have no intention of going anywhere any time soon, so it’d be really inconvenient if your parents hated me. That being said, I fully intend to be as endearing as humanly possible for the next week. I’ve yet to meet a parent who can’t be wooed with polite smiles and charming conversation.” Phil’s voice raises a few octaves. “Oh, Mrs. Howell, what a lovely home you have! Adrian, you seem like so much less of a pest than Dan describes! Mr. Howell, you seem so intimidating, I promise I’ll behave–”

I shove Phil’s shoulder but smile widely at his antics. He doesn’t hesitate to poke his finger in my deeper dimple.

“I understand you’re concern, Bear, but you’re overreacting. Everything is going to be fine.” His hand moves to rest on my cheek and brushes his thumb lightly over my lower lip.

I lean into his touch briefly. “Thanks, Phil.” I hold his gaze for a moment more before I nudge the empty wine glass into his stomach.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll be back in a minute.”

----

I stumble a bit getting off the train. Oof.

Once we are on the platform, Phil pulls me into the bathroom rather than outside to the taxi stand. Inside, he grabs my cheeks in between his hands.

“Dan. Look at me. On a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you right now? Do we need to get you some coffee before we go to your house?”

I can’t stop the giggle that falls out of my mouth. “I’m like a four.” Phil looks a bit wary. “Honestly, Phil, I’m fine. Better than fine, in fact. I’m at the exact right level of tipsy for this to not be literally the scariest thing in the world.”

He still looks a bit skeptical. “If you say so. But if you can’t manage yourself in front of your parents, I’m saying you are really tired and putting you to bed, okay?”

I overexaggerate rolling my eyes. “Yes, dad.”

“Ew. No. You are not allowed to call me dad.”

“Yes, daddy.” I smile mischievously.

Phil huffs. “Daniel. No. I’m not one to kink shame, but I swear I will leave you here.”

I pull out of his grasp. “I’m kidding. Now come on, let’s grab a taxi and get this show on the road.”

The taxi ride seems to take two seconds and eight hours at the same time. Phil sat himself in the middle seat at the beginning of the ride and has been holding my hand in his lap since, lightly thumbing over the back of my hand. As the taxi pulls up in front of my house, I squeeze Phil’s hand.

“Ready?”

“All set.”

Here goes nothing.

We’re only halfway to the door when Mum rushes out to us. I prepare myself for a smothering hug, but to my surprise she bypasses me and goes straight to Phil.

“Hello, darling. It’s so good to finally meet you in person.” Phil chuckles and hugs my mother back.

“Hello Mrs. Howell, it’s lovely to meet you as well.”

“Please, call me Kathy. Mrs. Howell is my mother-in-law.”

Phil hugs her again, much to my mother’s glee. “Nice to meet you, Kathy.”

“Um, hi Mum. I’m here too, ya know.”

Mum turns her attention to me. Finally. Not like I’m her son or anything. “Hello, Daniel. It’s so good to have you home.” I stagger slightly, unable to balance her bone-crushing hug and my bag at the same time in my slightly tipsy state. Phil shoots me an alarmed look from behind my mother and rushes forward to take my bag from me.

“Here, let me take that for you, Bear.”

My mum pats Phil’s cheek and practically coos. “Awe, such manners. You’ve picked such a gentleman.”

Psh, yeah right. He just doesn’t want me to look blatantly shitfaced.

Mum ushers us into the house, motioning Phil to drop our bags by the stairs. Within the first two minutes of being in the house, Phil compliments my mum three times (“You’ve got such a cozy home!” “It’s so kind of you to invite me!” “That’s such a nice family portrait!”). Suck up. Dad greets us inside the lounge but Adrian is nowhere to be seen. I lead Phil to the larger sofa, leaving a bit more space between us than normal.

Mum begins to bombard Phil with questions before he’s even properly settled. “So, Phil, sweetheart, tell us about yourself.”

Boooooring.

As Phil talks, I steadily become more aware of the fact that my mouth feels like dry sandpaper. Confident that Phil can manage on his own for a few minutes, I (somewhat shakily) press off the sofa. “I’ll be right back, I’m going for a glass of water.” My head quietly throb in protest of movement. Oof. “And maybe some paracetamol.”

Phil looks at me for only a moment, but his eyes twinkle with mirth. I head into the kitchen before he has the chance to say anything. Smartass.

After pouring myself a water, I pull the medicine box out from the cabinet under the kitchen basin. Rather than lifting it to the counter, it falls to the floor with a quiet thud. Helplessly, I follow the box down to the floor and drag it between my legs. The shrill screech of the box against the tile threatens to explode my head. I may not have felt particularly drunk at any point today, but the combination of wine and champagne, traveling, and minimal food has left me feeling not great.

Naturally, Adrian chooses this high point in my life walk in the kitchen. I can feel him staring at me as I struggle with the latch on the medicine box.

“You good there?” His laughter is so loud I can practically feel it. Reflexively, I cradle my head in my hand.

“A little quieter, please.”

Miraculously, he laughs a bit softer this time. “Are you drunk?”

My head falls back against the counter. “No, but I think I’m hungover.”

“It’s ten. At night.”

“It’s literally my birthday, fuck off, Adrian.” Little shit.

“Your birthday is tomorrow, loser.”

“Close enough. Now do something useful and fetch the paracetamol for me.”

Adrian continues to make fun of me, but cooperates all the same. I take the pills from his hand and reach for my water, only to realize I left it on the counter. Fuck it. I pop them into my mouth and swallow them dry.

Adrian’s hand falters as he passes me my water glass. “Oh, I guess you don’t need this.”

“I’m a good swallower,” I say with a wink.

“Ugh too much information, bro.” He looks appropriately grossed out but helps me to my feet anyway. “You know, I could so easily tell Mum and Dad you’re dying of a hangover.”

“Mmm, you do that. You still like to have Abby over while Mum and Dad go to dinner on Wednesdays?”

His cheeks tint pink. “Fine, you win.”

I give him small two-fingered salute as I pass him on the way out of the kitchen. “Thanks, Adrian!”

In the lounge, my parents and Phil are still engrossed in conversation. I tune in for just long enough to make sure I don’t need to contribute—Mum is asking all about his masters. We could be here for hours.

I hover next to Phil for a moment as I debate my next move. Before I can over think it, I curl into a small ball on the sofa and rest my head in Phil’s lap. My eyes snap shut before I can see either of my parents’ reaction. Phil tenses briefly.

“Do you want to go to bed, Bear?” He murmurs softly, his hand resting uncertainly on my shoulder. I shake my head and Phil continues his previous sentence. Gradually, his hand slides up and snakes its way into my hair.

“Bear? Wake up.”

I languidly open my eyes and slowly take in my surroundings. It takes a second before I remember I’m at home and not in Manchester. “What time is it?”

“Half eleven. You feel asleep, silly old bear.”

I swear to god I hear Mum coo again.

“Can we go to sleep now?”

Phil shakes a bit under my head as he laughs. “Of course, but that means you have to stand up first.”

“Ughhhhh, Phil.” Reluctantly, I sit up and let Phil pull me to stand. Mum is still chattering away. I hear her mention sometime about breakfast and plans for tomorrow but am too sleepy to register anything important.

Upstairs, Phil pauses in between my room and the opened door to the guest room.

“Er, do you know where I’m supposed to sleep?” He asks, shifting the weight of his duffle bag.

I look at him a little perplexed. “Did Mum say something?” Phil shakes his head.

“With me, then.” Hey, if Mum really cared, she would have said something, right?

Phil barely has time to shut the door in the time it takes me to strip to my boxers and crawl into bed. As soon as he joins me in bed, I bury my face into his chest, letting out a deep sigh I didn’t realize I’ve been holding in all evening.

“Long day?” He asks, running his fingers up and down my bare back.

“Mmm, good day though.”

“Yeah?”

“Good pre-birthday. And Mum likes you.”

Phil’s chest vibrates with laughter. “How would you know? You slept through almost our entire interaction.”

I try to shrug, but end up just lightly bumping Phil’s chin with my shoulder. Groaning, I press my face deep into Phil’s chest.

“Night, night Phil.”

I feel Phil press a kiss into the top of my head. “Night, night Dan. I love you.” I try to say I love you back, but I’m too tired to form the words.

It’s okay, he knows.

[trauma420]

ok time to talk about st thats on my mind a lot and I usually never mention bc this is tumblr lol I have complicated feelings on what's ok wrt kink and "problematic" ships (for lack of a better word) Starting with kink: on the one hand now that I'm not in the midst of having rape and ddlg kinks used to further traumatize me I can absolutely understand why it makes survivors uncomfortable when non survivors engage in those things. I do feel fucked up and hurt and upset when I see people on here say they want someone to rape them bc it's ~sexy~ bc like...........no you fucking don't!!!!! Stop twisting my trauma into something desirable you fuck!!!!!!!!!!!! But on the other hand I think trying to police what people do to get themselves off (when not hurting anyone obv) is not only useless, but also paves the way for this disgusting culture of strangers demanding intimate details of your past trauma so they can decide if what you're into is acceptable or not. It ends up being just as fucked up as seeing that kink shit in the first place imo. Not to mention it pushes people who are actually being harmed by it further into the arms of their abusers. And then it's also even more confusing for survivors like me who sometimes still use stuff like that to get off bc it's all we know?? Like it's already triggering but then it adds on even more guilt and shame which is super tough to deal with. A much more healthy thing would be more discussions in consent and red flags in kink culture so people can more easily keep themselves safe....I guess like at the end of the day while I don't love my trauma being such a huge aspect of kink culture, I ultimately don't think trying to stop it is useful or even that positive. There are better ways to keep people safe as there is no possible way of getting rid of that stuff entirely. If you claim to want to keep survivors (and especially kids) safe from this stuff then you have to know that alienation and attacking are not as impactful as frank discussions and safety?? And a lot of this ties in with the shipping stuff too imo. Like I shipped a fuck ton of pedophilic and abusive ships as a kid bc I romanticized my abuse and would never ever have even described it as abusive. I latched onto that stuff "to cope" so to speak. It wasn't healthy or good for me.......but people yelling about how toxic and evil people who ship that are weren't going to make me stop doing it. All they'd do was make me defensive and angry and cling to it more because admitting the ship was awful would be admitting that awful things were happening to me. I also think there's a big difference between certain things that people like to talk about as if they're the same. For example, adults shipping something pedophilic is disgusting and scary and is not the same thing as people shipping reylo. Like you don't have to like or trust people who ship stuff like that either but it's just not.........the same level of fucked up???? And it feels kind of minimizing to act like they are the same tbh. Adults who engage in "fictional pedophilia" are most likely pedophiles, but that's just not necessarily true for other kinds of problematic ships. As usual I think tumblr needs more room for nuance. Things aren't always 100% black and white, and that's coming from a borderline lmfao.

[vee-angel]

Potty-Mouth Piper (part 3)

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series) 

Content Warning: The following story contains depictions of feces, flatulance, vomit, and mucus; with most being eaten. Also, just some absolutely depraved examples of hand-holding, kissing, cuddling, and heartfelt declarations of lesbian teenage love. 

Also, this finishes out Chapter One of Piper’s story. Her next appearance will be when her story intersects with another member of the Pervert Pentet (Sharking Sherry, who’s one of the last two members to be introduced).

Part 3

Piper spent the next few weeks in the psych ward; Mackenzie visited as often as she was able. She couldn’t get enough of seeing Piper’s face light up every time she saw her. She had even scouted some nearby stores to see if she could find the same puzzle that Piper had been working on when she first visited her in the hospital. When she finally found it and presented the gift, Piper seemed so touched that she actually held back tears. The green-haired filth-fetishist was smiling ear to ear as they were finally able to complete the puzzle together.

“Together” may be an overstatement. In truth, Piper did well over ninety percent of it, mostly while explaining the geometry of irregular tessellations in jigsaw puzzles and something about how the pieces could be categorized by pattern… or something. Mackenzie honestly couldn’t follow when she started going on about things like that, but she loved seeing how happy it made her to have someone who actually listened to her ramblings. She learned a lot about Piper in those few weeks; one of the most surprising things is that the mohawked, foul-mouth punk was really, REALLY smart.

It took a few awkward conversations for Mackenzie to get her parents to believe that she kept visiting because she just sincerely liked Piper. They weren’t the type to pry much, but at first it seemed like they believed that she felt sorry for the green-haired girl, or that it was part of her learning to forgive Piper for what had happened during the school assembly. She had to be clear that she really just thought Piper was interesting and sweet, and that despite her “behavioral problems” she might want to start dating her once she was released from the mental hospital.

When that day finally came, Mackenzie wanted to spend every moment with her and finally get a chance to do more than talk with her in the visiting room of a hospital. Unfortunately, Piper explained that she wanted some time to smooth things over with her mom, first. A few agonizingly long days later, Mackenzie finally got a text saying that Piper’s mom was okay with them having a sleepover! She still felt like this was all some kind of fantasy! As if all the disgusting porn she’d watched online over the last few years congealed into this perfectly vulgar woman who was too good, too dirty, too pretty to be real. There were even times where she considered that maybe she was spending so much time in a mental hospital because Piper was a delusion, a fantasy she made up to help the shy girl act out all of her obscene secret desires.

But as she approached the brick ranch-style house where Piper lived, she knew it was all real. She walked up the steps and rang the doorbell, her heart racing with anticipation. Her tension grew a bit when she saw that it was Piper’s mother who answered the door. She had heard mostly good things about Miss Lindeholm, but she couldn’t help but be a little bit intimidated now that she knew she was a professional dominatrix.

Mackenzie was invited inside where she barely had time to set down her overnight bag before she saw a grinning Piper barreling toward her. Their chests collided as she threw her arms around her and squeezed. Mackenzie couldn’t help but giggle at the unrestrained eagerness. She returned the hug and couldn’t keep her heart from fluttering as her hands touched Piper’s bare skin. She wore a threadbare black tank top that had been cut off at the bottom of her ribs and a plaid mini-skirt. At the hospital, they hadn’t been permitted to touch very much, and the pajama-like outfit almost made her forget how delicately slender Piper’s body was. If she were a couple inches taller, she could have been a runway model.

Piper’s mom watched with a slight smirk for several seconds as the two girls embraced. “All right, you’ll have plenty of time for that later. I’d like to talk to Mackenzie now. Please give us the room, Piper.” Her tone seemed pleasant, but firm. Though that didn’t do much to assuage Mackenzie’s nervousness.

As they reluctantly pulled away from each other, Mackenzie caught Piper’s eyes. The worried expression on her face prompted Piper to explain, “No, it’s cool. My mom’s rad as fuck. She just wants to make sure I’m not, like, blackmailing you with pictures of you sucking a dog’s dick or something.”

“What?? Oh! Oh gosh, no.” She turned to the older woman, “No, it’s nothing like that, Ma’am. I really, really like Piper.”

“All the same, I’d like Piper to excuse us so that we can talk.” Miss Lindeholm led Mackenzie to a sleek looking leather and metal couch in the living room that faced a glass coffee table. A slightly dejected Piper made her way to what looked like the kitchen.

Mackenzie sat next to the professionally dressed blonde woman. “I sense you’re nervous, Mackenzie,” she began in a kind voice as she took her hand, “but I promise you that you’re safe. If my daughter has said or done anything to compel you to come here or to have a relationship with her, you can tell me and I’ll protect you.” There was something about her that almost immediately instilled trust, there was an effortless confidence that was also nurturing. Mackenzie supposed that was part of what made her a good dominatrix.

She took a deep breath to try to still her nerves before responding. “I really, really, REALLY like your daughter, Ma’am. I… Well I guess I’ve only ever told her this, but umm, I fantasized about things like this a lot for a long time before I met Piper. And I would look at… umm… ya know… scat porn.” Mackenzie’s face scrunched up and turned beet red for a moment as she realized that she’d just told her friend’s mom that she’d been looking at scat porn on the internet for years. She tried to power through it, “So, Piper is just sort of like all my… fetishes, and everything else I ever fantasized about. All put together.”

There was a momentary pause before Piper’s mom spoke, “Okay. I’m very happy to hear that, Mackenzie. To be honest, I was skeptical that the things Piper was telling me about you were true. She almost never lies, but she also can’t tell when other people are lying to her. So a part of me was worried that you were playing a trick on her. But I’m very relieved by what you’ve told me. Piper has mentioned to you that I’m a sex-worker, correct?”

“Yes, Ma’am. She said you’re a professional mistress?”

“That’s right. I get the sense that you feel hesitant in talking about your fetishes, but I want you to know that you won’t be judged in this household for any of those feelings. It’s okay to be sexually aroused by touching or eating shit, or watching others touch or eat shit. It’s actually a lot more common than most people would believe. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Mackenzie thought for a moment about what she’d just heard. Obviously no one had ever said that to her before, as she was only the second person to even know about her fetish, but she’d also never had anyone tell her that it was okay. She never thought of herself as someone who held a lot of shame for her kink, yet somehow, it was as if she felt the release of a huge burden that she didn’t even know she was carrying. After briefly getting lost in thought, she realized that Miss Lindeholm was still sitting there waiting for a response. “No, Ma’am.” she took a deep breath to steady her resolve and then released it, “Miss Lindeholm, it really turns me on watching girls eat poop. And I want to eat poop, too… because I think it’s a really sexy thing to do.” She let out a tiny giggle after she finished her admission. “I can’t believe I really said that to you! It actually feels really...relieving, I guess!”

“I’m glad. Being able to communicate about what turns you on is important. And so is consent. If you’re going to have a relationship with my daughter, I want to talk to you about some things. Given the things Piper likes to do, there’s a bit of a unique ‘sex talk’ that’s specific for her.

“But first, the basics: Remember that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Anything you do with a partner should be because you both want to be doing it. Now relationships are complex, and consent is complex. But a good rule of thumb is that ‘no’ means no, ‘maybe’ means no, and only ‘fuck yes’ means yes. What that means is that you should both be enthusiastic about the sex acts you engage in. If you perform certain activities solely because the other person wants you to, it eventually causes problems in your relationship. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. Now getting into specifics: First, Eating feces runs a high risk of making you sick at first. It is possible for your digestive system to adapt, god knows Piper is evidence of that, but if you choose to engage in that fetish, you should go slowly at first. I’ve left a bottle of medicine in Piper’s room to help minimize the chance of you becoming ill, you should take one every twelve hours for a couple of days, even if you don’t feel like anything is wrong. Second, urine is mostly safe to drink, but keep in mind that your body will be filtering it a second time when you swallow it. So as sexy as you might find it to only drink each others piss, over time it can put an unhealthy strain on your kidneys.

“So to sum up, you can drink piss every day, but you still need to drink real water to stay healthy. And you can work up to eating shit every day, but you need to be careful, and you’ll still need real food. Do you have any questions, Mackenzie?”

She sat for a moment taking it all in. While the brief lecture from a women she barely knew was, without a doubt, unfathomably awkward, Mackenzie also found it really helpful. Not only because of the information, but because of the assurance that while she was in this house, she could feel like she was normal. This woman had explained the risks of trying to drink nothing but Piper’s piss with more comfort and ease than her own mother did when she explained why she shouldn’t flush tampons. “No, Ma’am. No questions. Umm, thank you for all that, though. Can I see Piper now?”

She released Mackenzie’s hand that she’d been gently cradling through the conversation and gave a small nod. As she stood up, she saw Piper eagerly stride into the room; apparently she’d been eavesdropping the whole time. “Okay, cool. So I made dinner for you and me. My mom doesn’t like when I make food for her because I always put the food in my ass first, but you said that’s something you wanted to try?”

“Yes!” Mackenzie replied enthusiastically. Piper took her gently by the wrist and led her into the kitchen. She was increasingly noticing that Piper’s home had a very sterile, modern look to it. Best she could tell, her mom ordered all their home furnishings from a Sharper Image catalogue.

The two of them finally came to be in front of a large bowl of green goo that had been set on the marble countertop. Next to it was a enormous tube with a plunger that Mackenzie recognized from her videos as an enema syringe. “So I made us split pea soup. It looks gross as shit, but it tastes really good. Also, it makes you fart a lot. I thought about squirting it up my asshole before you came over, but I figured you’d probably want to watch that part. Oh! And it’s vegetarian.”

Mackenzie had revealed that her family didn’t eat meat during their conversations at the hospital over the last few weeks, so she appreciated the consideration. In fact, she was impressed with the amount of thought Piper had put into everything. She gave an joyful nod of approval and then watched Piper suck up a large quantity of the bright green sludge into the enema syringe.

“Here.” Piper said with a confident smile as she handed the large tube to Mackenzie. For a moment, Mackenzie almost looked confused. Piper smirked and gave a confident shrug, “Figured you’d want to do the honors and fill up my fart-hole.”

Mackenzie gasped gently in awe, and then nodded her head excitedly. Piper leaned over onto the counter and flipped up the back of her skirt. She used one hand to pull her ass apart, but in truth it was unnecessary; while Piper’s ass had a pleasant roundness to it, the long, lean girl’s butt was rather small, and her cheeks readily parted to reveal her little pink anus and shaved vulva as soon as she bent past forty-five degrees.

“You don’t have to do anything special, just stick the end in and push that part on top down slowly.” Mackenzie nodded in response to Piper’s instructions. She took a deep breath and lined up the tip of the big acrylic tube. She pushed and felt Piper’s asshole give minimal resistance; the actual tip was about two inches long, and once it was all the way in, she noticed the girl’s sphincter clench around it to create a tight seal. As Mackenzie began to push down the plunger, she considered how practiced Piper must be at this. After all, she was so dedicated to ass to mouth that she had it tattooed on the side of her head. Though the tattoos had recently become slightly obscured by the yellow stubble that had grown during her stay in the psych ward.

“Do you really do this with everything you eat?” Mackenzie asked as she gingerly pumped the tasty green slurry into her friend’s bowels.

“Well with soup and stew and that kinda shit, yeah,” she began casually, as if she weren’t actively receiving a warm pea-soup enema from a conservatively dressed teen redhead, “Other stuff I just need to make sure it’s dick-shaped like baguettes or wraps or carrots. And there are things you can kinda stuff up there like french fries or scrambled eggs, and big things like pizza I just tear into pieces and shove up my ass a piece at a time.”

“Wow.” She had talked to Piper about her compulsion to only ever eat things that had been inside someone’s asshole (normally her own, purely out of convenience), but that had been so abstract before now. “Why…” she began the question hesitantly, “I mean, why do you do it?”

“Uhh, because I’m fuckin’ awesome?” Mackenzie giggled girlishly at Piper’s response.

“I think it’s empty now.” she noted as she finished emptying their soon to be dinner up the girl’s shitter.

“Okay, pull it out slowly.” Piper’s asshole immediately clenched shut to trap the liquid inside her as Mackenzie withdrew the enema syringe. She stood up and began massaging her slightly distended abdomen. “Seriously, though, I had the idea a long time ago, and I think I’m probably the only person in the world who does this. I mean, if you read fantasies about people being full toilet slaves, there’s a bunch of people who fantasize about eating nothing but shit for their whole lives. But it’s not medically possible; there are things your body needs and doesn’t excrete, so if you only eat shit you eventually end up with serious nutritional deficiencies. But if I do it this way, then even if I’m not always eating shit, I’m always eating something that someone shit out of their ass.”

“So… you’re kinda like the number one scat-girl in the whole world?” Mackenzie asked, excitement slightly overtaking her timid manner.

“Fuckin’ awesome, right??”

“Totally awesome.” She replied as Piper placed a green bowl on the floor and squatted over it. Mackenzie was transfixed as she watched her friend skillfully dispense the thick green soup from her asshole. She’d watched plenty of videos of girls getting food enemas (milk or whipped cream seemed most common), normally it would come out in squirts and sputters, but Piper may as well have been a mechanical food dispenser as smoothly as she plopped the ass-slime into the bowl. It just reinforced the idea that Piper was a queen of filth; the girls in videos only did those kinds of things for porn. But Piper did them every day.

The first bowl was full and she clenched her hole briefly as she switched to the second bowl. She repeated the process of dispensing split pea soup with a wet plopping sound. It only took about thirty seconds for her to fill both. She kept her legs wide as she stood almost all the way up into a half-squat. She grabbed a paper towel and began to move it toward her backside to clean the last residue of the green goo.

“Wait!” Mackenzie shouted, probably too loudly, while grabbing Piper’s wrist. “Can I…? I mean…can we use my tongue to be toilet paper… for you?” She was embarrassed by the awkward phrasing, but she was proud of herself for being bold enough to ask.

Piper nodded with surprise and approval, before bending forward to grab her ankles. Mackenzie hesitantly squatted down behind her, staring at the few specks of green still sticking to her anal ring. She finally stuck out her tongue and launched her face at Piper’s butt. She almost knocked the skinny girl off balance with her eagerness, but grabbed onto the front of her hips to steady her. She gave one long, hard lick from the back of Piper’s pussy all the way to the top of her ass-crack. She swallowed hard with a tight-lipped grin as the other girl turned around to face her.

“You make really good toilet paper.” For a moment, Piper’s big grin seemed almost coy. Anyone looking at the two young women at that moment would know that they were lovestruck, in that special and charmingly awkward way that only teenagers can be.

Piper picked up the two bowls before spending a few moments getting lost in Mackenzie’s cerulean-blue eyes. She took a quick breath and let it out sharply to focus herself before handing a bowl to Mackenzie. “Okay, we should go to the dining room. My mom’s probably getting tired of waiting.”

She handed one of the bowls to Mackenzie and the two of them headed into the next room where Piper’s mother sat patiently at the head of a rectangular table in front of what appeared to be a chef’s salad that had been prepared by a high-end food delivery service.

“Sorry we took so long, Mom.” Piper said as the she and Mackenzie sat next to each other at one side of the table.

“It’s perfectly all right. Mackenzie is experiencing a lot of new things, and there’s no need to rush her.” She picked up her fork and stabbed the salad a few times, collecting the different elements into a single bite. Piper dipped her spoon into the butthole-flavored soup that had been freshly prepared.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness as Mackenzie bowed her head and clasped her hands, briefly whispering a quick prayer of gratitude before eating. When she opened her eyes, she could tell by the slightly uncomfortable smiles that her dining companions were unaccustomed to the ritual. She couldn’t honestly blame them; a sex-worker and a lesbian scatgirl no doubt had experiences where they’d run afoul of some of the less progressive followers of Christ.

“So how did you become a professional mistress, Miss Lindeholm?” Mackenzie asked to break the tension. She reverently brought the first spoon-full of pea-soup to her mouth as the older woman began to answer.

“Well, hmm, where to begin.” she mused to herself briefly. “My family moved here from Sweden just before I started high-school. Being a tall, pretty blonde with a foreign accent meant that I became something of an obsession for the boys at school. Even at that age, I could tell that I was more of a fetish for them, so rather than ending up with a boyfriend, my interactions were more... transactional.”

“Transactional?” Mackenzie thought she knew what the word meant, but she wanted to be sure.

“It means that we were each trading things we wanted from the other, dear. I would get gifts and favors, and the boys would get what they wanted. As an example, the going rate was five dollars to flash my breasts for five seconds.” she said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“That’s… like a dollar a second!”

Piper’s mom flashed an amused grin at the shy redheads excitement. “Eventually they started doing bigger and bigger things for me and expecting more in return, which is how I ended up pregnant with Piper my Junior year. My parents were furious but they couldn’t disown me while I was a minor, so they kicked me and Piper out of the house when I turned eighteen. Piper was almost two at the time. We were briefly homeless, and the only way I knew how to make money was to let boys pay to do what they wanted with my body. It was… difficult for a few years but I kept working until I could charge more and more.. Eventually I trained to be a pro-domme, and now I run my own dungeon where I make a lot of money, and I get to tell everyone else what to do.” She finished her story with a proud smile.

“Wow!” was all Mackenzie said. She had been so obsessed with Piper, she had hardly taken the time to appreciate what an impressive woman her mother was. And beautiful, too. The golden-haired scandinavian beauty should be around thirty-five by Mackenzie’s math, but she had a timeless quality that could easily have allowed her to pass for ten years younger.

She turned her focus to the bowl of food that she’d been absentmindedly slurping as she listened to Miss Lindeholm’s brief recap of her life, taking the time to really enjoy the flavor. It was good! Comfortingly warm with all the right spices in subtle combinations, and a slightly earthy flavor that she suspected (hoped) came from its brief time inside Piper’s ass.

“What about your parents, Mackenzie. What do they do?”

She briefly glanced over to see Piper smiling widely as she ate, she seemed happy to see her two favorite women bonding with one another. She turned back, “Well, my father writes early chapter books for elementary and middle-school kids. He does a lot of ‘choose-your-own-adventure’ stories, ‘cus he says that if people learn how to make decisions when they’re young, they’ll be better at it when they grow up.”

“And that’s how your parents raised you?” she asked as she popped another mouthful of the crisp salad into her mouth.

“Mhm! My parents always tried to let me make my own decisions. I guess that’s why I never really went through a rebellious phase. Oh, and my mom does arts and crafts. She sews and knits and crochets, she even draws and paints sometimes, too. She illustrated a couple of my dad’s books, and she makes most of my clothes. She’s kind of a workaholic.”

Around that time she heard Piper reaching the bottom of her soup. She hadn’t said much, but she seemed content, if slightly eager to move the evening toward the fun part.

Mackenzie, sensing Piper’s eagerness, rushed to finish her own soup. Piper finally spoke up, “Okay, mom. We’re done, can we be excused now?”

“Oh, but I’m having such a nice time talking with your new friend.” her mom teased. “We have ice-cream for dessert, you know.”

“I’m lactose intolerant.” Mackenzie interjected.

Piper’s eyes widened, “Wait, really??”

“Yeah?”

“Well, like, does it hurt you, or are you just like… PPFFFTTT!!” Piper ended her sentence by making a vulgar, simulated fart noise with her mouth.

Mackenzie blushed for a moment, finally grasping the reason for Piper’s excitement. She looked up to catch Piper’s expectant gaze. “We should have ice cream.” she giggled.

“Can we have dessert in my room, Mom? Please?” Piper pleaded.

Miss Lindeholm sighed with a smile, knowing there was no point in trying to keep the scat-addicted lesbian love-birds apart. “Okay, sweetheart. Just keep everything contained to your room.”

Piper leapt up from her chair and ran to the kitchen. She returned a moment later holding a pint of ice-cream and a spoon before she grabbed Mackenzie by the wrist and pulled her excitedly down the hall.

The happy duo reached the threshold of the bedroom, but Mackenzie felt her foot catch on something in the doorway. They tripped and she tumbled to the floor on top of Piper. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

The two of them stood up, realizing that maybe they should tone down their excitement just a tad. “It was my fault,” Piper began with a contrite smile, “I forgot to warn you about the edge. I always used to think that if I ever had someone over that I should remember to tell them that it’s a tripping hazard, and now I finally have someone here and I forgot.”

Mackenzie looked down to see what she’d tripped over, and realized that there was a lip coming up about two inches separating the floor of Piper’s room from the rest of the house. Furthermore, while most of the house was floored with an elegant grey carpet, Piper’s room seemed to be lined with a sturdy, off-white linoleum. The furniture, she realized, was all either on legs, or raised a few inches off the ground with risers. “Do you…” she began piecing together the reason for the odd decor, “pee and poop on the floor?”

“Not just on the floor!” Piper responded excitedly as she motioned over to the bed, placing the ice-cream on a nightstand. “Feel it.” she said, offering a piece of what appeared to be oddly thick black sheets. Upon examining the material, she realized that it felt somewhat like a wet-suit. The mattress covering and pillowcases seemed to all be made of the same soft, yet waterproof material.

Every time Mackenzie thought she had a grasp on the intensity of Piper’s filth fetish, she showed her a new dimension. This, she thought, truly takes the cake. Piper’s entire bedroom was designed to be used as a toilet!

She almost couldn’t conceive of someone whose life was that dedicated to a filth fetish. She couldn’t believe that Piper’s mom had been so accepting! This actually required pretty major renovations of the house!

“Oh, and check this out.” Piper continued as she opened a door that Mackenzie had previously assumed was a closet, “Ta-da! Private bathroom.” She looked inside to see a sink and bathtub, but where she expected the toilet to go was a stacked washer/dryer combo. There also seemed to be an industrial wet-vac against one wall. “My mom doesn’t like me making a mess in the rest of the house, so she made it so that I can do whatever I want in here as long as I keep the door closed, and I clean up after myself.”

“This...is incredible.” Mackenzie was awed. Before she met Piper, she’d always fantasized about dating the type of vulgar, filthy women that made scat porn, but Piper was definitely not that kind of woman. She was so far beyond them.

“Oh! Before I forget…” Piper hopped over to the dresser beside the door from which they entered and opened the bottom drawer. It was empty. “I cleared this out, so you could have a place to put your stuff when you come over. I made it the bottom drawer so I could look at your butthole when you bend over to get stuff out of it. I mean, if you’re naked in here. Which I usually am. But you don’t have to be if you don’t want to. Redheads usually have really pretty buttholes, so I hope I get to see yours.”

Mackenzie had learned that Piper had a tendency to announce her inappropriate thoughts aloud, and also that she never acted like they were inappropriate. Somehow it always made her feel like she could be liberated from her shyness. At one point, she actually spent a few hours one evening trying to think of something she could realistically say or do in front of Piper that might incur her disapproval. Despite her best efforts, nothing came to mind.

“Okay, well… I think I left my overnight bag in the other room. I’m gonna go get that. And, I mean, if you want to get naked while I do that, it would… make my pussy really wet?” Mackenzie attempted to mirror Piper’s obscenely inappropriate manner, but it didn’t quite suit her just yet.

She headed back toward the front door where she’d dropped her bag, and returned a few seconds later to find the skinny girl proudly displaying all ninety-six pounds of her shaved five-foot-seven frame.

There was a brief pause as Mackenzie felt overwhelmed by the sight before her. She didn’t know if it was love, or lust, or simple adoration; she just knew that she was so thankful that Piper was hers for that moment. She tossed her bag in the drawer as she strode forward with a burning passion. Her arms coiled around the naked girl and their lips met in unbridled intensity. A moment later they were on the bed, Piper beneath her with legs wrapped around the redhead’s hips. Mackenzie’s tongue forcefully pushed its way into Piper’s mouth, an invasion that she welcomed happily, judging by the little moan that escaped her throat. A few seconds later Piper’s tongue pushed back. Meanwhile, Mackenzie’s hands were running over the soft pink flesh beneath her, kneading and groping her tiny breasts, feeling the ribs just beneath her skin, down to the serpentine, writhing muscles of her waist, then sliding around to dig her fingers into a firm handful of Piper’s soft, little ass.

Eventually, the two of them needed to come up for air. They breathed heavily and stared at each other from inches away, both still happily imprisoned in a cage of one another’s limbs. “Wow,” Piper said, “You’re a really good kisser.”

“Thanks.”

“Did I do okay?”

“You’re amazing.” Mackenzie replied.

“Oh good. ‘Cuz I’ve kinda never done that before.”

Mackenzie’s jaw dropped open. “What?! Piper, was that your first kiss???”

She blushed a little bit while smiling. Then nodded.

“But… You’ve had sex!”

Piper looked away with a shy grin, “I mean, only with dudes and like a couple of dogs. And I’m super gay, so I only do that kinda shit because it’s gross and I like saving the cock-snot in my ass for later. But, I’ve never been with a girl before, and… nobody ever wanted to kiss me before.”

“So, you’re kinda like a virgin? With girls at least.”

“I guess.” Piper replied, “What about you?”

Mackenzie shook her head while wearing an uncharacteristically cocky smile. “Nope! Church camp when I was sixteen, and I dated a girl for a couple months last year before we moved here.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were such a slut.” Piper teased, her words dripping with sarcasm, “In that case, we better keep this on the downlow, I can’t be seen running around with women of low morals, I’ve got my reputation as a good-girl to maintain!” She punctuated the end of her sentence by cocking her hips and releasing a deep, rumbling fart that turned to a wet squeak just at the end.

The two girls burst out laughing and untangled from one another’s arms. “We should close the door if we’re going to be doing that kinda thing, right?” Mackenzie asked, remembering that Piper’s mom went to great lengths to keep the various messes and smells contained in Piper’s bedroom. Piper nodded.

Mackenzie hopped up and shut the door. She turned back to Piper. For a brief moment, she tried to think of some clever or flirty way to say she wanted take her clothes off, but “I’m going to get naked now, okay?” Was all she came up with.

“Okay!” Piper replied, hopping up to a cross-legged position so she could watch. Mackenzie always felt awkward about talking to people, but oddly she never experienced bashfulness when it came to her body. So when Piper treated her undressing as though it was a performance, she was flattered, rather than embarrassed.

She stood in the middle of the room between the bed and the dresser. She grasped the bottom of her yellow knit sweater and peeled that off before placing it in the empty drawer next to her bag. She undid the buttons of her undershirt and dropped it in the drawer as well. She elected not to wear a bra to the sleepover. Despite being a full C-cup nearing a D, her teenaged breasts were still extremely perky. In fact, she considered them possibly her best physical feature. She paused a few moments to give Piper the opportunity to stare at her now naked tits.

She took off her sneakers and socks next. She tried to figure out a sexy way to do that, but after almost falling on her ass twice in the attempt, she decided to just bend over and take them off normally.

“Hey, do you not shave?” Piper asked suddenly. Mackenzie had just finished taking off her shoes and socks, and realized that Piper must have gotten a glimpse of her underarms in the process. Mackenzie always dressed rather conservatively, and what little body-hair she had was extremely fine and light. So she rarely made the effort to remove it. In fact, even though she often wore shorts or knee-length skirts, she’d never had anyone comment on the imperceptible amount of peach-fuzz that adorned her legs. But her armpits did have a small patch of fine, strawberry blonde hair that was noticeable to anyone looking closely. And Piper was looking closely.

“I don’t usually bother. But I can if you want me to. I actually brought a razor just in case. I wasn’t sure what you liked, since I know that you shave everything.”

“It’s cute, don’t shave it!” Piper replied.

She smiled and continued to strip, undoing her flowy ankle-length skirt and letting it fall to the floor. She had worn her cutest pair of white cotton panties with a little pink bow at the top. But she hooked her thumbs in the waist and dropped those to the floor as well.

Mackenzie took a step forward, naked as the day she was born. Her long red hair hung flatly down her back. That and the patch of dark auburn pubic hair were the only splashes of color upon the marble-white canvas of her skin. Her first girlfriend had once commented that her body looked just like the Venus de Milo. At the time, the resemblance was almost uncanny, but her tits had grown a bit since then.

She laughed slightly as she watched Piper’s wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression. She turned around to give her a good look at her backside before bending over to pick up her skirt and underwear so that she could put them in the drawer. Her stance was wide as she bent forward, neatly folding and organizing the pile of clothing she’d dumped. She remembered Piper’s comment about wanting to look at her butthole, and wanted to make sure she had an opportunity to get a good, long look.

Finally she turned around to see the green-haired girl looking a bit awestruck. Piper swallowed before speaking “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Did you know? I feel like someone should have told you. That you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, I mean.”

Mackenzie smiled and blushed, but there was no hint of joking or sarcasm from Piper. Her words were dead-serious, that made Mackenzie blush even more. She took a few steps forward and crawled onto the bed next to her. “So what do you want to do now?”

“Whatever you want to do is cool with me. We can do anything. I’ll… do anything for you.” Piper’s reply sounded almost like she was intimidated. Mackenzie wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Did she really think she was that beautiful? She knew she had a nice body, but she’d always considered herself rather plain looking. One thing was for certain though. Piper was every bit as in love with Mackenzie as Mackenzie was with Piper.

“Seriously,” Mackenzie began, taking the lead, “You said you’ve never had a girl in your room. What’s something you always fantasized about doing in here?”

“Well,” she swallowed nervously, “I guess I always had this fantasy of being with a girl where we just… I don’t know how to describe it, but sort of like…ignored grossness, I guess? Like if we were watching a movie and cuddling, and one of us needed to take a piss, we’d just do it like it’s no big deal. Or if I’m eating your pussy and you need to fart or take a dump, you just do it like it’s nothing, you don’t even ask or say anything. Or if we’re both eating ice cream together and- Oh shit! We still have ice cream, I almost forgot!” She quickly grabbed the thawing pint of ice-cream and the spoon and placed it between them on the bed. “If we’re eating ice cream and you need to blow your nose, you can just, like, blow snot into the ice cream and we both just keep eating it like we don’t care. Is that… something you’d be into?”

Mackenzie’s realized that the two of them were negotiating consent, and her mind flashed back to the little lecture Piper’s mother had given her earlier about that topic. She wanted to be absolutely clear in her enthusiasm. “Fuck yes I’m into that, Piper. Let’s do that!”

“You know, you hide it well, but you’re a seriously bad-ass bitch, aren’t you?” Piper opened the lid of the vanilla bean ice cream and scooped a dollop from the thawed bit around the edges onto the spoon and offered it to Mackenzie. She opened her mouth to allow Piper to feed her and pursed her lips as she withdrew the utensil. Piper then took a second scoop and ate it herself.

“It’s really good.” Mackenzie commented before an observation dawned on her, “Hey! Wait a second! How come you’re eating that? It hasn’t been in your butt.”

“Yeah it has. See? Green sticker.” Piper turned the container to show her. “That’s how we label stuff that’s mine. Sorry if there are ice crystals in it, it’s dangerous to get an enema with stuff that’s really cold, so I had to thaw it all the way and refreeze it.”

“That’s okay. So green is your favorite color, huh?” Mackenzie asked as the pair of them casually shared a pint of ice-cream that had been squirted out of Piper’s shitter at some indeterminate point in the past.

“Yeah, it’s versatile. I mean, it’s the color of boogers and slime and puke, but green is also, like, the color of nature and money and all this good stuff, too. Brown’s the same way; people think of it like a gross color because their shit’s brown, but so is chocolate and coffee, and soil, and wood, and a lot of really hot girls. So I guess I like green and brown because they’re really pretty colors, but they’re underrated or something, I dunno.”

“And they’re the colors of your eyes.” Mackenzie observed. Back when their relationship was across the table in the psych ward, Mackenzie noticed that Piper’s eyes were different colors. Once they had both worked up the courage to make eye contact with one another, that is. Heterochromia. She’d memorized the word. Piper had one green eye and one brown; though the obscene girl joked that she had a second ‘brown eye,’ before displaying her anus and farting loudly. The hospital workers didn’t approve of the display at the time, but it made Mackenzie giggle, and that was all that mattered to Piper.

Mackenzie felt the dairy-based confection stimulating her mucus production, so she gently took the container from Piper, used a finger to block off one of her nostrils, and with a firm exhalation, shot a large wad of clearish-yellow slime from her nose onto the top of the ice-cream. She took the spoon, and scooped a large measure of the desert, topped with her snot, and popped it casually into Piper’s mouth.

She swallowed with a tight-lipped grin. “That was perfect!” Piper whispered intensely. “I know the whole point is to kinda ignore it, but seriously, that was exactly the way it is in my fantasies. I’m fucking it up now. I’m gonna go back to pretending it’s not a big deal. Do you want to watch something on tv?”

Mackenzie giggled, “Sure!”

She took the remote from the nightstand and turned on the television that sat on top of the dresser. She placed the remote back and picked up a small laptop. It was the only piece of computer equipment in the room outside the large shrine of high-end electronics that had been portioned off by a set of plastic shower-curtains in the corner to the right of the bed. She’d gotten to know Piper well enough to know that when she wasn’t talking about sex and filth, she was talking about computers. That or Alan Turing, whom she idolized and about whom she seemed to know an extraordinary amount.

“Do you want to watch scat porn or anything, or should we just put on something normal?”

“Let’s go with something funny we can just have on in the background while we hang out.” Mackenzie replied.

Piper used the laptop interface to put on a late 2000’s comedy show that they half-watched as they finished the vanilla bean and punk-girl-asshole flavored desert. About ten minutes later, the two naked girls were watching tv and spooning when they heard a grumbling bit of commotion coming from Mackenzie’s gut. Piper, who was being the big spoon at the time, moved her hand down to her tummy and rubbed lovingly.

The red haired girl emitted a whining moan of discomfort. The ice-cream really was making her bowels cramp up. This would be about the time she’d normally go and spend the next half-hour sitting on the toilet, but she felt a certain sense of freedom knowing that her digestive troubles wouldn’t have to interrupt the sleepover. Nor would she have to worry about her legs falling asleep from sitting on the toilet for too long. She managed to let out a small, barely audible bit of gas that did nothing to relieve the pressure, but she could feel her guts churning. There was definitely more coming any minute. Piper could tell, too, as she pulled closer. She pressed the front of her naked hips into Mackenzie’s ass. Her legs were fidgeting a bit, as though she was turned on, which she most likely was. About a minute later she felt a pressure inside her colon. It felt a bit like the fart, but she could tell it was more substantial this time. She let loose with wanton abandon and there was a bit of wet sputtering that was slightly muffled by the barrier of flesh formed by the two women pressed together. She could tell that a few wet chunks of shit had exploded out of her ass and hit Piper in the pussy. A moment later, the bulk of her diarrhea began to erupt. The satiny-wet sound of soft shit correlated with the hot muddy feeling that coated her buttocks and Piper’s crotch. The whole ordeal ended with a few last bits of popping flatulence. Piper responded by moaning gently and kissing her on the neck. Then they went back to watching tv and cuddling, ignoring the hot puddle of feces that was spreading across the bed beneath them.

The bowel movement relieved the discomfort, but she knew from experience that the process would repeat at least a couple more times before her digestive system would be a hundred percent again. She decided she wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. “Hey, Piper. Do you want to lick my pussy?”

“Fuck yeah I do.”

“Okay, you stay there, I’m gonna spin around.” she said. Piper’s eyes lit up. She realized what Mackenzie intended. She was going to maneuver onto the top of a sixty-nine position so that she could shit directly onto Piper’s face as she ate her out. She considered that this might be the first time Piper actually got to experience that. Mackenzie herself got to have the experience of a pretty girl shitting on her face at school a few weeks before, and while she lamented the time Piper had spent institutionalized because of it, she had to admit that it was an exhilaratingly decadent experience.

Mackenzie found herself thinking how unexpected it was that she seemed to be falling a bit into the dominant role with Piper; even more unexpected was the fact that the virginal seeming Christian girl was actually more experienced when it came to lesbian sex.

She felt Piper’s tongue immediately attack her pussy the moment she was in position. There were still some brown streaks caking her ass, but her auburn-haired crotch was still mostly clean. Piper’s cunt, Mackenzie noted as she looked down on it, was a different story. It was still dripping with her excrement. The liquid butt-mud having collected so heavily between her legs that her hairless little slit wasn’t even visible. She wasn’t quite ready to wade through her own filth in order to please Piper orally, and she was becoming distracted by another round of slightly painful clenching in her bowels. She tried to watch tv as Piper’s tongue invaded her cunt, nose pressed firmly against her shitty and soon to be explosive asshole.

Piper was eager, but not yet skillful with regards to cunnilingus. Mackenzie enjoyed the sensation, but the stench of her own filth a few inches beneath was starting to get to be a bit much. She knew she wanted to eventually be like Piper, to be able to chomp down turds like they were hot-dogs at a competitive eating contest, but she’d have a ways to go.

She felt another wet bowel movement pushing to escape her butt, and she did nothing to hold it back. The sensation like hot, chunky water squirting out of her ass preceded the feeling of a more normal brown log escaping from her body. She could tell the first round of chunky liquid shot straight up Piper’s eager nose, but based on the continued eagerness of her tongue, she didn’t seem to mind.

She thought she was finished when a sudden round of nausea hit her. Maybe it was the smell, maybe it was the sight of cooling poop caking Piper’s crotch, or maybe it was the realization that the girl going down on her has a nose-full of her turd-juice, but she found herself gagging.

The contents of her stomach shot up and poured out of her mouth. In an instant the cold shit in Piper’s lap had been replaced with hot puke. The heaving of her stomach stimulated her guts enough that she unleashed another round of partially digested liquid brown with particular force against Piper’s face. She was projectile squirting simultaneously from both ends. Somewhere in all the bodily commotion she half-noticed that she was pissing as well. There were multiple rounds in which her core clenched and filth rocketed out of three orifices at once. In the end, she was spitting out the last bits of phlegm and gastric juice while pathetic little farts signaled the last of her digestive issues. She closed one nostril with her fingers and blew bits of snot-mixed-with-vomit out the other, then repeated the process on the opposite side.

Piper sounded to be doing the exact opposite. She heard the girl behind her sniffing, as though she was trying to snort the scat that filled her nose down the back of her throat to swallow it. She felt the slender girls hands come up reassuringly to her ribs. It seemed like her hands were shaking a bit. “You’re okay, right?” Piper asked, her voice quivering.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She replied a bit unsteadily. The ordeal had been a bit trying for her physically, and she was mentally a bit overwhelmed.

Based on Piper’s voice, she was overwhelmed too. “Okay!” Piper’s voice was high pitched, her excitement easily could have been mistaken for panic. “That was amazing. Kenzie, that was fucking amazing! You’re a… you’re a motherfucking, incredible-ass, rug-munching, ginger-snatch cunt! You know that? I mean holy cock-sucking, pants-shitting fucking shit!!! Jesus fuck-tits! You’re a goddamn fucking goddess!”

Mackenzie burst out in hysterical laughter and fell over into the slurry of bodily goo that pooled across the bed and was now dripping onto the floor. She hoped Piper wouldn’t be offended, but the frantic string of obscene language just struck her as incredibly funny. When Piper was excited, she was somehow, incredibly, even more of a potty-mouth!

Piper laughed with her for a moment before having a coughing fit. Mackenzie looked back to see the green-haired girl’s face dripping with brown. It seemed that her laughter had caused her to inadvertently inhale a bit of poo, an idea that elicited another round of screaming laughter from Mackenzie.

The clenching feeling in the bottom of her throat still hadn’t totally subsided. Her stomach and head still ached a bit from projectile retching the contents of her stomach all over Piper’s crotch and bed. And as sexy as her mind found the whole situation, her body’s instinctive aversion would take some time to convince. She’d fantasized about doing things like this for years, and while internet porn had prepared her for the sights and sounds, the magnitude of the smell was a bit much for her to take in. The stench of both fresh and stale diarrhea combined with the acidic odor of vomit imposed upon her nose and eyes. She could even taste it in the air.

“Hey, Piper? This is all really sexy, and I’m for sure going to think about this when I masturbate like… forever. But… I mean, I hate to ask, but could we… clean up maybe… ninety percent of this? I mean, I want to get to the point where I can handle-”

“Hey, it’s no big deal!” Piper interjected while wiping some bits of brown goo from around her eyes, “I guess I kinda threw you in the deep end, huh? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d get that sick. I mean, it was fucking amazing as a motherfucker, but I don’t want you to feel bad.” She took a moment to formulate a plan for how to proceed. “So tell me what you think of this sequence: You go start taking a shower in my bathroom while I scoop the bulk of the shit and piss and puke into containers, ‘cus I mean, I really wanna save it for later. Then I’ll hop in the shower with you for a minute to clean myself off. Then I’ll grab the wet-vac and clean the rest while you take a bath. I actually have scented oils that’ll make you smell like flowers afterward. Then when you’re done, there’ll just be some residue on the sheets that’s still gonna smell a bit, and parts of the bed are still gonna be kinda sticky, but it won’t be nearly this strong. It’ll just smell kinda like bad farts.”

Mackenzie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow, that sounds… really efficient. You have scented bath oil???”

“Well yeah, I mean, it’s cool to smell like shit sometimes, but most people like girls to be clean and smell nice. And there are some dudes I hang out with and play video-games with. I mean, I know they mostly hang out with me ‘cus I let them buttfuck me, but I dunno, maybe part of me wants to be a pretty girl; like you. Or maybe I just like smelling like coconuts and lilac in the morning, and cheese-farts and asparagus-piss at night.” Piper’s eyebrows knitted together in sudden contemplation. “Huh, you know what? I think I just realized that I like all smells. Fuck, I never thought about that before.” She contemplated a moment longer before realizing that Mackenzie was still slowly edging her way to the bathroom on the left side of the room from the bed. “Oh yeah, you go take a shower, and I’ll be there in a minute.”

Mackenzie followed Piper’s suggestion. She noted that the bathroom had a rather normal assortment of shampoos, conditioners, lotions, oils and the like. If anything, Piper’s collection of hygiene products would be enviable to the average girl. It was actually a comfort that Mackenzie hadn’t realized she needed. She had always been fastidious about cleanliness; both of her body and her environment. She didn’t need a psychologist to tell her that the origins of her fascination with filth lie in her almost obsessive-compulsive tidiness.

Deep down, there had been a spark of worry that despite their common fetish, actually building a life with Piper may have been implausible. But those worries had been laid to rest. Piper’s home was crisp and clean. Her bedroom had a bit of clutter around the computer station, but was otherwise neatly organized and tidy. As she peaked out of the shower to see the shit-caked girl using a small squeegee she apparently had stashed somewhere to scrape the slurry of filth neatly into a tupperware container, she realized that they could have a future. At that moment she knew; this was the girl she was going to marry.

***

Almost forty-five minutes later, Mackenzie came out of the bathroom smelling like roses. The naked and still slightly moist Piper stood eagerly. “I left some residue on the sheets, but if you decide you want everything to be a hundred percent clean, I can change those and put them in the washing machine.”

“It’s okay.” Mackenzie replied with a lovey smile. “It smells sexy in here.” She took deep breath and let out a contented sigh. “I feel better now. Throwing up makes you feel bad. Even though it’s hot.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I should have planned for this better.” Piper gave a contrite smile. “Sorry if I was being kinda selfish by making you eat ice cream so you could fart and shit on me.”

“Piper. Stop apologizing.” Mackenzie was almost surprised to hear such a commanding tone come out of her own mouth.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I- Shit! Sorry. Fuck!” Her contrite smile disappeared and was replaced by genuine anxiety.

Mackenzie felt a little sorry for her. She had always hidden her own kink. So as shy as she was, she still made the occasional friend or acquaintance. But Piper’s in-your-face filth obsession must have made her feel alienated from the rest of the world. As best she could tell, her only friends were men who mostly used her for sex. It was no wonder she seemed a bit desperate to please.

“Okay, take a breath.” Mackenzie stepped forward and held Piper’s pixie-like face in her hands, peering into her green and brown eyes. “From now on, whenever you want to say you’re sorry, just tell me you love me instead. Say ‘I love that you accept me for who I am. I love that you forgive me for my mistakes. I love that you want to be with me no matter what.’ Because I do. And I will. You’re… amazing, Piper. And I’m absolutely, positively in love with you.”

Piper stood blank-faced for a moment. “I… I love you too, Kenzie.”

“Come on. Let’s go to bed. It’s getting late, and I think that’s a nice thought to fall asleep to.”

The two of them crawled beneath the feces and vomit smeared sheets, kissed one another gently, and drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms....

Mackenzie woke up first the next morning. She laid in bed staring at Piper through the mess of green hair that tangled over her face. She watched as her eyes lazily drifted open and turned to meet hers. She yawned and smiled before speaking groggily, “I’ve got to take a monster dump right now.”

Mackenzie giggled and kissed her. “Good morning to you, too!”

Piper slipped out from under the rubbery covers and stood naked, wreathed in the small bit of morning light that peaked through the curtains above the bed. “I’m thirsty, are you thirsty?”

“Mhm. I actually feel a little dehydrated. I probably should have drank something after I threw up last night.”

“Oh fuck, I should have offered you something, I’m sor- I mean… uhh… I love that you put up with the fact that I don’t know how to have guests.” She grinned a bit, proud of herself for remembering Mackenzie’s insistence that she express love rather than regret.

Piper opened the clear shower-curtain to enter the tech corner of the room, the mess of cables and wires running between custom made computers and monitors and various other pieces of plastic and circuitry that Mackenzie couldn’t begin to decipher. She opened a small mini-fridge positioned in the underside of the desk and pulled out one clear bottle and one red one. “I’ve got water and Mountain Dew Code Red.”

“Oh, just the water is fine.”

Piper returned to the bed and handed Mackenzie the clear bottle. She opened the red one herself and took a swig. The scent of artificial cherry flavor briefly overwhelmed the aroma of ass that lingered on the bed and on Piper’s skin. Mackenzie cracked the water and drank a third of it in a few large swallows.

She contemplated for a moment, “Hey, have these been in your ass?”

“Nah, I just do that with stuff I eat. I leave drinks alone. I thought about making it so that everything I eat is something I shat out and everything I drink is something I pissed, but I’m not about to give myself a catheter every day to squirt coffee and soda and juice into my bladder. I tried it once and it kinda hurts, like... kinda a lot. I still drink piss, though. Wanna see?”

Mackenzie groaned adorably and hit Piper gently with a pillow, “How are you this chipper this early in the morning? And also, yes, of course I wanna watch you drink piss.”

Piper laughed as she went to the dresser to retrieve a large green cup from one of the upper drawers. Mackenzie was slowly figuring out that a dish or food being labeled green seemed to indicate it was for Piper only. She watched, as the skinny, naked girl turned her knees out and squatted slightly. A pale yellow liquid poured from between her labia and filled the cup about two thirds of the way. She returned to bed next to Mackenzie and sipped the cup of urine while making casual eye contact with her bed-mate. “Wanna try some?”

Mackenzie nodded. Piper handed her the cup, “Just take a little sip.” she cautioned, “I don’t wanna go overboard again. We have time to help you get used to all this kinda shit.”

She took the cup and smelled it. A relatively normal scent of salty urea. She took a small sip and found it tasted similarly. The acrid taste made her face scrunch a bit. She followed up the sip of Piper’s pee by taking a few delicate swallows from the bottle of clean water. “Thanks for going slow with me, Piper.”

“No problem, babe. Hey, hand me that empty ice-cream container, I’m gonna take a huge dump in it while you watch, okay?”

She handed Piper the container and turned on the bedside lamp to get a better look as Piper turned around and knelt down with her chest pressed onto the top of the bed. She held the container in one hand between her legs; obscenely spread ass proudly displaying her cute, puckered anus. She watched as the muscles in the girl’s lithe abdomen writhed and her shitter opened up. A large, solid log of brown excrement pushed its way out of Piper’s asshole and broke off to plop into the empty container. A slightly softer brown cylinder emerged and kept emerging; it curved down, beginning to coil as it hit the bottom of the container. She realized that Piper’s practiced skill was being utilized to fill the container the same way an ice-cream man would fill a cone with soft-serve. Despite her small size, she managed to fill the container almost all the way to the top with a perfectly tipped swirl.

“Impressive!” Mackenzie remarked.

“I watched some YouTube videos of the techniques people use for soft-serve. It took some practice to get it right at this angle, but I can usually make a pretty nice-looking shit-cup.” She explained as she wiped her ass with her fingers and licked them clean.

Piper grabbed the spoon and sat in bed next to Mackenzie. She began casually eating her own shit from the used ice-cream container as if it actually was soft-serve, occasionally washing it down with a swig from the bottle of red soda.

“Can I try?” Mackenzie asked, stopping Piper in her tracks.

“Are you sure? Just so you know, this thing doesn’t need to be a two way street. If you want to just dump out turds in my mouth every day, and never put your mouth anywhere near me, I’d be a hundred-percent cool with that.”

“I wouldn’t be. I like kissing you. And I don’t feel like you’re pressuring me. I’ve fantasized about eating your shit since the first day we met. I guess I kinda did at the assembly, but mostly I just threw up. I didn’t really get a chance to take my time.”

“Yeah, I… love you for being the kinda girl that enjoyed that crazy-ass prank. Okay, I don’t want you to get sick again, so just have a little.” Piper collected a small spoonful of her own crap and held it out toward Mackenzie.

“I love you, too.” she said before she suddenly took the small scoop of feces into her mouth. She pulled back and felt the slightly warm brown sludge on her tongue. The taste was bitter and earthy; like fermented soil and coffee grounds. With a substantial stretch of the imagination, she could almost convince herself that the turd tasted like unsweetened dark chocolate. She mushed it against the roof of her mouth with her tongue and swallowed. She gagged briefly, but quickly washed most of the taste out of her mouth by downing the rest of her water bottle.

Piper watched with anticipation. Mackenzie took a few deep breaths to make sure that she wasn’t going to throw up, then smiled at Piper. Piper looked excited and hugged her. “I’m so proud of you! Just so you know, that shit was mostly made out of your shit from last night, so you’re kinda gettin’ double shit flavor there. But now that I know for sure you want to do that, I’ll try to do stuff to make it taste better when you come over. Oh! And you should take the antibiotics my mom got for you so that you don’t get sick from that.” She produced the small prescription bottle from a drawer in the nightstand before going back to her mini-fridge to bring another water bottle.

“Thanks,” she said as she downed the first dose of medication. “Hey, Piper? Can I… make a request? It’s okay if you say no, but it’d mean a lot to-”

“I’ll do anything for you, Mackenzie.” The adoration was clear in her voice.

“If I’m going to be… ya know, eating your poop, is there any chance you could… stop eating meat?”

Piper’s cheeks widened into a big, toothy grin. “I already stopped. I knew there was a chance you’d want to do that, and I know you don’t eat meat. I’m not going to have you eat second-hand meat out of my butt.”

The two of them spent most of the rest of the day in bed watching tv. It seemed that the little laptop on the nightstand could set anything she could imagine to play on the screen. Mackenzie wasn’t sure if the Lindeholm household just happened to have a subscription to almost every streaming service, of if Piper was pirating them. She decided that she didn’t particularly care about the answer. She did care about the fact that they seemed to have more in common than she would have thought. They both liked Star Trek, and spent a good portion of the day revisiting favorite episodes. Their taste in comedy shows was similar; and Mackenzie found herself genuinely enjoying being a cheerleader for Piper as she played video games. Mackenzie was more into horror movies than Piper, who got scared easily, but claimed she could tolerate them as long as she could bury her face between Mackenzie’s boobs during the scary parts.

Toward the end of the day, the two of them worked together to clean the last of the filth from the room as Mackenzie prepared to depart that evening. She wished that she could stay forever, but a part of her also wanted to get home to Saturday-evening dinner with her family, where she could tell them a heavily censored version of her adventures with her new girlfriend. Plus, she enjoyed the weekly family ritual of Sunday morning breakfast, followed by church.

She was saying her last goodbyes and thank-yous to Piper and her mother, when Piper blurted out a question randomly.

“Hey, should I shave my head again by Monday? Like, do you want to see my tattoos at school?”

Piper’s hairstyle had been a bit neglected during the few weeks in the mental hospital. The formerly bare sides of her head that read “Potty Mouth” and “Ass 2 Mouth 4 Life” were now mostly obscured by a dense stubble of golden-blonde hair.

Miss Lindeholm stood behind Piper, making intensely wide eye-contact with Mackenzie and pleadingly shaking her head in tense little gestures.  

“Well… I think your hair is really pretty, and, I dunno, maybe the tattoos can be just something that you and me know about.”

Piper’s mother made a silent sigh of relief and mouthed ‘thank you’ at Mackenzie.

“Okay,” she began, rubbing the side of her head, “I guess I can grow it out for now. Least I can do is try to look pretty for you.”

Mackenzie didn’t fully understand the comment until they passed each other in the hall Monday at school. Piper kept her eyes downcast, only raising them briefly to flash a subtle knowing smile at Mackenzie before proceeding on her way as if they were strangers.

Mackenzie wheeled around to catch up and glomped Piper with a big hug from behind. “Hey, pretty girl! You aren’t even going to say hi to me?”

Piper looked panicked, she spoke in a rapid whisper, “Kenzie! You can’t hang around me at school! People are gonna… see you! With me!”

A flash of anger stirred in Mackenzie’s heart. Not directed at Piper, but at the society that made her feel that she needed to protect Mackenzie from mockery by pretending to be strangers.

Her face turned stern. “Piper! I don’t care what anyone thinks.” She began to speak a bit more loudly in the crowded hall to make her point, “You’re my girlfriend and we’re in love. I feel sorry for anyone who thinks they need to make fun of someone because of who they choose to spend their life with.”

Piper continued to fret for a while, but eventually acquiesced; she still seemed a little nervous. They spent a lot of time together in school, but Piper always preferred to spend it away from other students who may be compelled to comment on Mackenzie’s choice of partner. In fact, most of the time, the two of them spent their lunch period in the out-of-the-way bathroom where they’d first met. They occasionally did unspeakably filthy things when they could be sure they would have privacy in a stall, but mostly, they just held hands and talked about their lives.

Mackenzie’s parents eventually had Piper and her mother over to their home for dinner; something that both girls stressed about on account of Piper’s inadvertent compulsion to be vulgar. Piper’s mother seemed uncharacteristically cavalier about the whole thing, as though she had a secret plan to ensure the evening went well. Which, as it turns out, she did! Almost as soon as the two of them walked in the door, Miss Lindeholm dominated the conversation by praising them for the way they reconciled their Christian faith with their daughter’s homosexuality, which she segued into offhandedly mentioning a project that Piper had done a few years before about her personal hero and gay icon, Alan Turing. That had apparently set things in motion, as Piper spent the rest of the evening excitedly lecturing everyone present about the life and legacy of the father of modern computer science, along with far too many details about computer science itself. Mackenzie’s family was too polite to stop her multi-hour soliloquy, but left the evening believing that their daughter’s new sweetheart was an exceptionally bright and spirited young lady whose odd behavior at the school assembly had been an isolated incident.

A few weeks later, Piper had grown more comfortable spending time with Mackenzie in the more public areas of the school. At one point a large boy from the football team had approached them, mockingly inviting Piper and Mackenzie to a party they were throwing… as the toilets. Piper initially accepted the invitation happily, not realizing the boy was making fun of them. When Mackenzie explained, she seemed disappointed. She didn’t become angry until the boy continued piling on, and when he called Mackenzie a ‘retard’ she attacked him. The ninety-six pound girl was about as effective as one would expect against the two-hundred-forty pound linebacker; the fight ended about two seconds after it began with Piper lying in the dirt with a split lip. Despite being the one bleeding, she still seemed much more worried about Mackenzie.

The boy was suspended for a week, a penalty that Piper’s mother thought was insultingly low. Though it seemed karma was on their side, as the boy was arrested soon after when hundreds of gigabytes of brutal pornography featuring a ten-year-old girl named Darla was found on his personal computer. Mackenzie had a sneaking suspicion that Piper was responsible, but being as she wasn’t sure she wanted to know just how far Piper would go to defend her, she never asked.

A few weeks before graduation, Mackenzie proposed in the bathroom where they’d first met. It was the first time she’d ever seen Piper cry.

That summer, the two of them found an apartment and moved in together near the university that Piper would be attending in the Fall. Mackenzie decided that she wanted to take some time off and figure out what she wanted to do with her life. The two of them often joked that Mackenzie was preparing for a life as Piper’s trophy wife.

Life was good; and the strange and depraved story of Piper and Mackenzie’s ‘Happily Ever After’ was just beginning…