This is a work of fiction. Comments welcome (jqkerr@gmail.com)
The Need 2
I'm watching the Yankees beat the Cleveland Indians on the tube one night when the phone rings. I recognize the number and just say, "Yeah?" when I pick it up.
There's no small talk. There never is. "Could you come over tomorrow morning?" he asks. His voice has that slightly tremulous quality of someone who needs to ask a big favor and is afraid I'll say no. I love that quality, as it means I'm in control, and control is the biggest turn-on I know.
"You need it?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Say please."
"Please."
"Please what?"
"Please could you come over tomorrow morning?"
"What for?"
There's a pause. "To use me."
"For what?"
He sighs. He is silent for a few seconds and I just wait. He's wrestling with himself and both he and I know he is losing the match. He summons up his courage to tell the truth. "I need you to use me as a toilet."
"How come?" I ask. I'm not in the mood to let him get away with anything.
He sighs again. Again the silence and then the surrender to his need. "So I can eat your shit."
"Say it again."
It's easier this time. "So I can eat your shit."
I finally let him off the hook. "I'll be by about seven."
"Thank you."
He lives not far from the subway, so dropping by on the way to work is no problem. I just take a shower and shave when I get up, and I piss but don't take my usual dump. I grab a cup of coffee and leave for work.
The door is on the latch and I just walk in. He's lying on the floor as always, under the rim seat, wearing only boxers, waiting for me. He has a trim body. Indeed he's hot and I wouldn't mind at all having vanilla sex with him if he weren't a shiteater. But who wants to have sex with a toilet? You want to kiss a guy who lets men drop turds into his mouth? I didn't think so.
I kick off my shoes and step out of my jeans and briefs. He's staring up at the ceiling as he always is when I sit down on the rim seat, my legs spread on either side of him.
I feel his tongue begin to work its magic on my asshole, flicking at it, licking it, beginning to penetrate. I need to take a dump so it isn't long before he is fully inside me, his tongue working my hole. I can feel it nudge the turd that is waiting to come out. He's a good toilet, I'll give him that. He knows how to turn a feeder on.
I can feel my shit begin to move and I know he's waiting for it. He probably doesn't even know he's doing it, but he's moaning faintly as he waits for what he needs. I can see that his dick is hard, sticking out of the fly in his boxers, but he doesn't touch it. As I said, he's a good toilet and he's concentrating entirely on the turd that is beginning to pass my sphincter. I can feel it slide out and drop into his waiting mouth. I hear him begin to chew and I stand up to watch.
I love watching a shiteater do what he has to do. Some of them actually like the stuff. But my favorite kind of toilets are like him. They hate it, but they do it because they need to. I get off on humiliating guys and there's nothing humiliating about making a guy do something he likes to do anyway, even if most people find it disgusting. But he finds shiteating as disgusting as everyone else. He does it anyway because he has to, and that really turns me on.
I can see him suppress his urge to wretch as he slowly chews the turd. He looks at me with the log sticking out of his mouth, the expression on his face so sad. What a fucking turn-on. I'm stroking my dick as I watch him eat my shit. He keeps looking at me, but there is no emotion in his face, except the sadness and the resignation to the awful fate that has made him a shiteater.
It takes him perhaps two minutes to eat and swallow the whole thing, including the piece that broke off and slid down his face, leaving a trail of brown on his cheek. When he has finished the first part, he just picks the piece up and puts it in his mouth, chewing it until he can swallow it.
When he's swallowed the last of my turd, I sit down on the seat again and tell him I'm finished. The nice thing about a human toilet is you don't need to wipe yourself. Your toilet does it for you. I can feel his tongue as he uses it to wipe my ass, licking up the shit that clings to the hair. When I'm clean I get up again and look at him while I jerk off. He looks back at me impassively and we exchange glances, a toilet and his feeder locked in a mutual need. Me to humiliate and him to be humiliated in this ultimate way.
My dick throbs and I spew my cum over his face. Man, let me tell you, you really cum after you've fed a toilet.
"Thank you," he says, still looking up at me impassively from under the rim seat, my shit and cum all over his face.
"Any time," I answer as I put my briefs and jeans back on and slip into my shoes. I leave, closing the door behind me, leaving him to clean himself up and try to turn himself into a human being again, but knowing that in his heart he is just a toilet, something for guys like me to use.
It must be tough being a shiteater. I mean, how do you look at yourself in the mirror when you've just been used as a toilet? Well, it's not my problem I guess. I get off feeding guys like him and that's enough for me. I'd say I don't give a shit, but I do. I give it to him and he thanks me for it.