Mess 

I have been treating myself a lot recently, buying lots of new clothes.

I have pretty much swapped out my whole wardrobe for black, with white

underwear. White is delicious, every day i pull on a clean starched white

pair of knickers, and at night taste and smell them while i busy myself to

sleep. I have been thinking about going public, well sort of.

Have you ever wet yourself when out and about? It is so tempting, just to

let a little out when i am shopping or in a lecture, or on the tube, and

have held in the first pee of the day because it is always so strong and

dark, but i know once i start i wont stop, so i always make a mad dash for

the bathroom eventually.

I thought i was not going to make it the other day, and when i ran into the

library there was a queue. I could just stand there and pee myself in the

hall, or barge in on some other girl - god, to sit on her lap and pee? Or

use the boys. The boys stank, and were covered in graffiti, and filthy

pictures, men dressed as girls, sucking each other and so on. In a way it

was quite sexy. I still like guys, and would love to find a nice

crossdresser, and fuck him, from behind, but i want you too, to watch, to

take part, to take over. He can be discarded once i am finished, then you

can tie me up, and fuck me hard. I would love to feel your fingers at my

lips, then my pussy, and then my bottom. I can imagine you calling me

names, stuffing my white knickers, spotted with my period as it begins,

into my mouth.

Then you start, with a lipstick, drawing a line from my chin, down my neck,

through my breasts - touch them please - but you ignore them, red and

swollen they pout at you - the thick red line, pressed into me hard enough

to hurt, across my belly, stooping just short of my fan, then starting

suddenly to circle my hole, round and round until the lipstick stops and

you are just grinding your knuckles like a fist around my hole, and then

with another hand you push me over and attack my ass, first a finger, then

a thumb, like you are going to peel me like an orange, then your fist

pushes into me - i can hardly move, but i want to wriggle further up the

bed, away from you, but you wont stop. All the time you are telling me what

a slut i am, what a bitch you are, and how this is going to hurt. You are

not apologising or threatening, you are going to hurt my ass, and you bring

out your fist with a popping sound, and kiss me on the mouth. You turn me

around, and the ropes dig deeper into my wrists and ankles as my limbs

twist to make me more inviting.

I can hear your breathing behind me, and after a wait, feel your hot shit

as it falls onto my lower back, a wait again, and i feel your fingers

massage the smooth crap into my bottom, and eventually i feel you grind

your belly onto my shitty ass while your fingers delve again inside me

searching for more black and brown shit to cover us both with. Eventually i

am exhausted, but unsatisfied. You on the other hand are almost drunk,

having come again and again as you abuse me.

I wait, getting cold as you wash yourself. I will not be washed; you untie

me, and pick me up like a discarded glove, and make me dress. I feel the

shit as it touches the fabric of my underwear, my bra is sopping where you

have peed all over it, but you make me continue, i put on a black blouse

and short skirt, just enough to cover up my mess, and you lead me through

the house, out of the front door.

We are going for a walk, at midnight, i am covered with a layer of shit and

piss, yours and mine, i am still desperately horny, i want you deep inside

me, but you are still teasing and denying me, and i do not know why, and i

do not know when you will release me.

We walk for what seems like a month, you hardly say a word, and while I

complain and whine, I never fall far behind. We have walked up the hill,

and climbed over the locked gate into the park, in the process I hear my

blouse tear, but I cant stop and do anything about it - the moonlight picks

me out, and I am scared about who might be watching in the dark.

All the way I can feel the cold flat wetness of my shit down my behind, and

when it warms again against my body heat it slips and drips down my thighs.

We walk into a wooded area, and out again, and around and around,

eventually into a clearing, over an unlit road, and then towards another

gate.

This gate is unlocked, and I find we are at the end of a tucked away

suburban street, which we walk down, you still silent, to the corner, where

you knock on the door of a pub. It must be 3 in the morning, but we are let

in, and the room is crowded.

It is full of fantasies this place.

Women in leather, women in rubber, tall severe women in black, beautiful

women, stocky butch dykes and slim wan creatures all mingle, and I sit in a

corner and watch while you fetch a drink for yourself.

There is exchange going on constantly, the femmes picking up the

fetishists, and the dark vamps picking up the more delicate butterflies.

Everyone seems perfumed, and you begin to talk and mix and I have to

silently watch while a string of women - old lovers? old conquests? talk to

you, hold your hand, and kiss you as erotically as lifetime lovers do.

I am ignored all the way through, and even though I smile and try to look

pleased to be there, all I get is ignored, or at best sneered at.

"You stink bitch" you tell me in-between encounters, as if to answer my

question.

Then you are explaining to a tall woman in red lace that I am your newest

conquest, not to mind me, but I am a bit careless. You tell her that I am

covered in shit from head to toe normally, and that tonight you have wiped

me clean so that you dare bring me here without embarrassment.

I know that you love me like this, but you seem embarrassed, and deny me

all night and morning.

You return from the bar, or somewhere with a pint glass for me. Your

friends watch as you pass it to me. Even before I hold it and feel its

warmth, I know what it will be, and hoping I am doing the right thing I

drink it as quickly as I can, spilling much of it over myself. I try to do

this alluringly, and amongst the surprised faces and the shocked faces, and

the whispering lips, I see the woman in red lace is smiling. It is her piss

I have just drunk, I know.

You nod to her, and she takes my hand, lifting me up with surprising

strength, and pulls me through the crowded bar, up stairs, and into a small

dank toilet at the top. It is darker in here than it was outside, and again

I am scared of that might me in there.

She tells me in a hushed voice to drink. I am confused.

"From the bowl"

I try to lap like a dog, jarring my head on the porcelain, but cannot

reach. I cannot see the water, but I imagine the bowl dark and stained, and

think I will retch.

I reach in, cupping my hands, and bring the liquid to my lips. The taste is

of woman, and I drink the diluted spring, again as fast as I dare.

"Eat Shit!"

I scoop my hand deeper and find it, still warm, it must be hers. Enjoying

myself now I make a show of eating it messily, and I hear her panting when

I close my eyes.

Savagely, she falls on me, forcing my head under the pan, and she is

fumbling with my blouse, she decides to tear at it, and I hear buttons pop,

and squeeze the remaining shit in my hand through my fingers as she strips

me quite naked.

Soon she is drooling on me, swearing and panting, heaving her weight onto

my chest, and at once I feel her wetness spread across my bosom, and

something hard is forced clumsily into me, pushing between my fanny and

ass, I wonder which will yield, and I hope it will be both in turn.

By the time anyone wants to use the bathroom, she is still sitting on me,

and the dildo is wedged firmly in my ass, she trying to yank it out to make

me taste it.

You are brought upstairs to see me, and I can make out your smile, behind

the bright torchlight you shine on me to survey the shit stained pissy mess

on my hair, over my lips, down my legs, across my shredded clothes.

I think for a moment you are going to turn away, but you help me up, not

caring what of my filth rubs onto you, though you look immaculate, and you

take me past the jealous, yes jealous faces, into a car, where I fall

asleep.

I wake in bed clean, sore, smelling of talcum powder, and I hear you

singing to yourself in the next room.

I am still tired, and need a little pee.

I wonder how angry you would be, when you come in and smile.