Love to Shit Girls - Abused Slave With Poop

As soon as I stepped into my flat, the delicious aroma of fresh shit hit my nostrils. My heart raced with excitement as I thought about what lay ahead. I knew better than to question my luck when it came to satisfying my unique desires. With careful steps, I made my way towards the source of the scent, my gaze falling upon the figure huddled in the corner of my living room.

He was a pathetic sight—a young, abused slave trembling before me. His eyes filled with fear as he caught sight of me, but there was no mistaking the desire in his gaze for what I was about to do to him. I couldn't help but feel a sense of power as I approached him, my fingers tracing the outline of his throat. "You've been a very naughty boy," I whispered softly, my breath caressing his ear.

Without further ado, I lifted him to his feet and pushed him against the wall. His body trembled under my touch as I undid his pants and pulled them to his ankles. The thick, steaming pile of shit that greeted me was a sight to behold. I couldn't help but admire the beautiful battered butthole before me—it was going to be put to good use tonight.

I grabbed a handful of his hair and used it to force his head towards the mess on the floor. "Eat it," I commanded, my voice ringing with authority. At first, he resisted, but I showed no mercy. Kicking open the pantry door, I withdrew a large wooden spoon and pressed its cool surface against his soft lips. "Taste your punishment," I growled.

And taste it he did. With trembling hands, he reached out and scooped up a mouthful of his own waste. His face twisted in disgust as he tried to resist the nasty, yet intoxicating taste. But I was relentless. With each mouthful, I pushed him further down the rabbit hole of depravity. Soon enough, he couldn't get enough—he was lapping up his own shit like it was the finest delicacy he'd ever tasted.

As he slurped away greedily, I couldn't help but feel a familiar stirring in my loins. This was what I lived for—the power to control another's most depraved desires. "Good boy," I purred, running my fingers through his messy hair. "Now, why don't you finish your meal?"

Without waiting for an answer, I sat down on the large black dildo that rested on the floor. "Suck it," I commanded, presenting my exposed asshole to him. He hesitated for a moment before lowering his face towards my ass, his tongue darting out to lap up the small puddle of sweat that had gathered there.

It wasn't long before his tongue began to explore further, pushing deeper inside my ass. The warmth and wetness of his tongue sent shivers down my spine as I thrust back onto his face. It was a sensation unlike any other—the feeling of someone willingly worshipping my asshole with their tongue.

As his tongue wiggled in and out of my tight asshole, I couldn't help but moan in pleasure. His face was covered in a mixture of sweat, drool, and tears as he devoted himself to pleasing me. And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, he shocked me by removing his tongue and licking up the trail of shit that led from my asshole to my pussy.

His tongue was covered in the thick, ropey strands of my love juices as he continued his dirty task. And when he climbed back onto the dildo, I knew it was time to reward him. With one swift movement, I mounted him and lowered myself onto his cock until it was buried deep inside me.

He groaned in pleasure beneath me as I started to ride him hard and fast. My own excitement was matched only by the rhythmic slapping of our bodies against each other. And as we moved together, I couldn't help but think about the twisted fate that had brought us here—two broken souls seeking solace in each other's depravity.

Our passion burned bright as we reached our climax together—his muscles tensed beneath me, and my moans echoed off the walls. And as we came down from our high, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. We were two damaged individuals who had found comfort in the darkest corners of our desires. Our love, although unconventional, was real—a shared love of shitting and being shat upon.

As I collapsed onto him, our sweaty bodies intertwined, I knew that this was the true meaning of love—a love that transcended societal norms and expectations. And as we drifted off to sleep, our hearts beating in sync, I couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, I had found someone who truly understood me.