Ariadne, Part 1 - Ariadne Takes Control by poor celain



MY TOILET LIFE
At the moment, my mouth is coated with a thick layer of shit from the enormous turd Ariadne forced me to eat about an hour ago. My stomach is still churning from it. I have threads of feces all up between my teeth, and clotted in the back of my throat. My tongue has several additional layers of shit from previous feedings that I that have not yet been allowed to get rid of. Mostly her piss has helped in the last few days, as it washes the shit down my throat so I can get rid of it. I have also learned to guzzle mouthwash. I have asked Ariadne to let me brush my teeth after feedings, but she says that won't happen until our wedding day. After the wedding, she says, constant brushing will be required since I will be eating shit several times a day, while serving her and her boyfriends on a regular basis.

I am forced to go around like this, Ariadne's personal human toilet, and so I avoid everything and everybody. And, having learned my lesson about the Internet, I especially stay off-line.

After feeding me shit, Ariadne allows me to wipe my mouth with toilet paper. My mouth is like an anus, she says, and so I must wipe it. And I am allowed to wash my face, and even to rinse my mouth with water. Otherwise she says she likes to know that my mouth is essentially laced with the taste of her shit and that I should stay that way.

She doesn't mind when I complain. Actually, she likes it, because she knows I am not happy. And in the meantime, she just puts another plate of shit in front of my face and tells me to eat, while she checks to see if my dick is still hard. Which, unfortunately, it always is.

HOW I SANK THIS LOW

Being very much in love with Ariadne, I was in the habit of calling her each night whenever I was out of town at a conference or trade show. Usually we both would be naked, to talk sweetly to each other across the phone lines.. We could touch ourselves discretely while we talked to each other, and we could imagine ourselves as if we were physically together, this across the thousand-some-odd miles that lay between us.

This last convention was no different. We talked each evening like usual, until one night, about mid-way into the schedule, I called her around nine o'clock and, after letting the phone ring for nearly five minutes, Ariadne finally picked up.

She was very cold and distant. We hedged the real issues for a bit by talking about mundane issues. I knew that something was wrong. Ariadne wouldn't open up; she wasn't getting "sexy." It took all kinds of persuading just to get her to say something outside that comfort zone of boring conversation.

"Well," she began, "what can I say? For one thing, I am no longer convinced you really want me, that you really want to be with me."

"How can you say that?" I replied. "You know how much I love you."

"Perhaps you love me. But that doesn't mean you want me. I have read the files on your hard drive. Maybe I'm not the right girl for you. Maybe you need a different type of girl. Or something else altogether."

She was sly and taunting, and clearly angry.

"What are you talking about?" I protested, "What files? We've been together for three years. We're getting married in a few months. Of course you are the right girl for me. I know you love me as much as I love you. Why are you saying these things?"

"That's exactly my point!" She continued. "We've been together for three years and I don't even know you. I'm not sure that you even want love. As far as I can tell, all you really want is heavy humiliation. Would you like it if I shit in your face right through the phone? You fucking pervert. You're a God-damned toilet shit eater and I think you are disgusting."

There was a pause, and then she screamed into the phone, "Eat shit, you perve!" She slammed the phone down and was gone.

I stood there stark naked in my hotel room, holding the receiver, listening to the dial tone, which sounded like the death knell of our relationship. I couldn't believe what Ariadne had said. I could see in the large mirror how bright red my face was. And, to my great regret, I could see how shining hard my cock was, and the pre-cum glistening from the head. She was absolutely correct about my need for humiliation. Sexual humiliation turned me on.

This was my big dark secret, a secret I had never told her. For some insane reason, humiliation-and in particular shit humiliation fantasies-makes my dick hard. On top of that, verbal abuse-and in particular toilet language-makes my dick even harder.

In my darkest heart, in my sick masturbation fantasies, I am a shit eating shame freak. And now, somehow, Ariadne knew all about me. Just her yelling at me, the hard metallic sound of her voice coldly telling me to eat shit was a total turn on. Her disgust with me forced my cock into the sky, as if such a crude and lewd remark was tantamount to a sexual come-on. And now I was left hanging, or sticking out.

I had no idea what to do. I was alone in a distant city. In my mind, I had done nothing to betray our relationship. It was perhaps unfortunate that my revealed dark secret had ruined it for Ariadne, ruined us-now that she had found me out. And now she had hung up on me and was gone. But surely she didn't really know anything. Maybe she had found some files. There was no way she knew the total truth.

Where I didn't have a clue was the fact that Ariadne knew far more than the mere fact of my dark secret. Ariadne had spent nearly 48 hours surfing to web sites and logging onto services that I had visited. At some point prior to my departure she had increased my history and cache settings and had found my hidden files. I had been stupid enough to keep all of my account passwords in a single encrypted file, which itself happened to have my birth date as its password. Ariadne had read numerous e-mails; chat logs, stories, and had viewed downloaded pictures from scat sites, and a few digitized movies, as well. Ariadne knew everything, including that I had "cheated" by having "scenes" with "dominant women" on ICQ while she was asleep in my bed.

After my erection had subsided, my depression and anxiety settled in. I tried calling her back several times that evening but the phone was continually off the hook. I spent a fitful night unable to sleep, on one level worried sick that I would never see her again, and at the same time rather relieved that my secret was out, even somewhat hopeful that she knew I had some "issues." Maybe-just maybe-she would understand and be forgiving and love me anyway. Perhaps she would forget all this.

The next day of the conference took forever. I couldn't concentrate on the business at hand. I tried calling her at her office at the lunch break, and again before dinner. Still I got the busy signal. Around three o'clock, when the day was finally over, I went to the airport and boarded the plane for home.

KISSING SHIT

As I dragged my bags into the hall, I noticed that the lights were dim throughout the house. At least she's good with the electricity, I thought to myself, as I gave the door a quick shove with my boot. I listened to the door slam securely shut behind me. Soft music was drifting from the front room. I could see the flicker of candles, and their inviting fingertips of shadows playing against the wall. Happy to at last be home, I removed my jacket and strode inside.

There, across the room, on the far side of the room, Ariadne lay resplendent along the couch in darkness, with the light from the candles dancing around the room, across the ceiling, along the walls, spilled upon the floor. In her jewelry resplendent hand, she cradled a glass of wine. Her costume was something very exotic-exactly what, I could not quite make out-but clearly it was made up of leather straps and steel spikes. The vast array of plate glass patio windows and doors displayed the glow of Los Angeles behind her. The city lights shimmered like embers in the LA heat.

Ariadne sucked slowly on her cigarette, pulling the flames deep into her lungs. I watched in amazement, as the tobacco seemed to light up her eyes from behind. Between breaths, she looked at me from across the room.

"Remove your clothes, wimp." She said. "Take everything off. Now!"

Naturally, I thought nothing of playing along; it was usual to take my clothes off when I got home. Ariadne always gave me a good fuck when I returned from far countries. Getting naked was part of the ritual, and it made sense. Apparently, she had forgiven me. She wanted me naked, and so I did as she said.

In a few seconds I was standing there naked and semi-erect, anticipating whatever she held in store for me. I could feel the cool air on my balls.

Ariadne rose from the sofa, and for the first time I could see her magnificent body framed in the leather harness she wore. My cock stiffened quickly as she moved gracefully towards me, I felt threatened and totally excited by this dark manifestation of her personality. She stood before me. My cock was hard and straight up. The wind tickled the hairs on my balls.

"Spread your legs," she said. "Wide!"

Thinking she wanted to get down there, and have room in which to move her mouth and tongue between my cock and my asshole, I complied with her rather direct, commanding request. I stepped my feet away to make a wide margin between my legs with lots of room. Then suddenly, I found myself in excruciating pain. Ariadne had kicked me in the balls, making a direct hit with her sexy leather boots. I buckled over and nearly vomited. The pain racked its way through my body like an earthquake through the world. I desperately held my stomach, trying to contain the pain. My cock shriveled. After about five minutes, my mind stopped spinning, and the pain subsided.. I looked up to Ariadne, who had stood there defiantly all this time, waiting for me to compose myself. Once she was convinced that I would be able to understand her words, she spoke.

"I want you to watch me take a shit!" She said. And with this she turned about and went back around the coffee table in front of the couch.

Even as my mind reeled with what she had just said, and despite the crushing blow to my nuts, my dick nonetheless unabashedly rose to full attention with those terrible words, I want you to watch me take a shit. I watched her as she moved swiftly across the room. I saw how totally exposed she was. In a flash of black leather and tanned flesh, I could see that she was trussed up in a severe body harness, replete with steel fixtures, and that her body harness pronounced the pertinence of her sex, her breasts, and her figure itself. It made her more naked than if she had been simply without clothes. The six-inch heels she was wearing, straight out of some fetish catalog, pushed her ass up and out, seeming to offer greater access than is usual for that part of the body. My mind raced with panic. If her leather outfit was offering me forbidden access to her backside, after what she had said, and just done to my balls, it clearly wasn't sexual access. It could only be a service entrance to which she was "granting" me access. My cock strained against its own flesh. I had never been so hard.

She moved into the kitchen area and quickly produced a large white platter from the shelf above the sink. Standing there, with my erection strutting out and up and drooling, I felt so much embarrassment and shame. My excitement was so obvious. I could not believe that she had actually said what I thought she had said. Nor could I believe what I was witnessing.

Ariadne returned to the living room and placed the glittering white platter on the coffee table before her, where she moved it around, ensuring it was in the right position. I was frozen and could only watch in silence. She stood there, towering above the gleaming white plate and prepared to defecate.

"By your hard-on," she began, "it appears that I was right about you. I have never seen you this excited. Tell me, 'Billy', are you the pervert that I think you are?"

I just stood there stunned. Maybe my head nodded in the affirmative, but I cannot be sure. She had said "Billy" with great sarcasm, like she was talking to a little boy. This was a terrible moment. I really had no words to describe my emotions. But then, as if to remove any need for speech on my part, a thick gob of pre-cum erupted from my dick head and drizzled its way to the floor, telling her exactly how I felt. I wanted to die.

"Well then," she said, glaring at the pool of cum collecting on the marble tiles at my feet. "You'll have to lick that up later. Now come over here and sit down on the floor. Observe carefully. I want you to see every detail while my shit comes out. I want you to watch me shit!"

Reluctantly, I did as she instructed and settled myself on the cold floor in front of the coffee table. The white platter glowed before me. Ariadne turned around and her backside faced me directly as she squatted over the platter. Moving her feet apart, just as I had done when she kicked me in the balls, Ariadne spread her thighs wide. I was fascinated to see her asshole open up as she squatted over the coffee table, with her anus distending from between her butt cheeks which had parted like an open tomb.

Ariadne glanced back over her shoulder to see that I was in position, seated as I was behind the low table as she squatted over the plate. I could smell the sweaty fragrance of her ass, and then a darker smell overwhelmed the other, as the shit began to emerge from her anus, its fumes drifting to my nostrils. I was compelled to watch. Ariadne was so lewd, so totally out of control. She was fascinating. She had never seemed so athletic. But here she stood on her thighs of iron and her perfect body. The secret of her anus fully revealed to me in all its pink and brownish glory. All that flesh caged in leather and ready for anything, her ass cheeks parting away from each other and the mouth of her asshole pushing out as if to kiss the plate beneath it. Then it started. A dribble of pee came and went, and then Ariadne began to shit. I watched carefully as the tip of a dark chocolate log appeared from her beautiful rectum, growing larger and wider every second, stretching her asshole open. Then the whole thing moved quickly out, a thick turd, and very firm. It glistened in the candlelight as it lowered itself onto the platter, stopping for a moment. For just a glorious second one end of the turd was firmly lodged on the plate surface, even while the other end was still up inside her anus, while she hesitated. This freshly produced turd must have been at least ten inches long, from start to finish, and about two inches thick. My mind was on fire with this terrible long turd presenting itself before me; presenting itself to me. This reality was far more intense than my fantasies had been.

And then she finished. The rest of it emerged and the long turd fell across the platter, like a strange hors d'oeurvres. Judging by the platter, the final turd was nearly twelve inches in length. My eyes fixated on the enormous turd that lay there before me.

Ariadne moved forward for a second, and then suddenly thrust her ass back towards me over the table, and, reaching around with both hands, she spread her buttocks wide apart to fully reveal the shitty mess of her anus.

"Lean forward and lick the shit from my asshole." She spoke sternly. "Your tongue should be good toilet paper, so lick my anus out. Get all the shit.. Quickly, now. Don't waste my time!"

Mindlessly, I threw myself towards her, my hands gripping the table edges and my face stretched up smashing into place between her buttocks. Below me, lay the plate of shit she had just created for me, the awful smell wafting up. The taste of her shit began to cover my tongue that was now lodged deeply in her asshole.

I licked away, furiously sucking back the shit in her asshole, licking at it, and lapping at her anus. The brown mess tasted disgusting, but it was possible to get it down and to swallow it, and, eventually, I was able to get her asshole all nice and pink again. This was no longer a mere fantasy. I had now eaten shit-a small amount of shit, perhaps, but it was real.

As the spasms in my stomach and throat finally calmed down, I reluctantly remembered what was still waiting for me once I was done licking the shit out of her asshole. Unless, possibly, Ariadne didn't really want me to eat the log of shit she had just laid onto the plate below me. But the turd had fallen into place. Ariadne pulled away from me, muttering. "You are lucky I let you get this close to me," she said. "I really only like it when a man-a real man-touches me."

I found myself suddenly alone. Crouched there, hovering over the table with the plate of shit below my face.

My lips and tongue were covered with Ariadne's feces. She had humiliated me, but only for her own benefit. I had licked her asshole, and now it was time for me to leave. There was no way she had meant it, about my eating shit. Then I felt her fist pounding the side of my head.

"Idiot!" she exclaimed, slamming her fist into my forehead. "Why are you sitting there daydreaming? You have to eat shit. Why do you think you are here? Why do you think I just took a shit for you? Eat it. Do it now. You fucking perverted freak. Eat shit. Eat my shit!" Again, I felt her fist crash into my face.

I struggled to my senses. I tasted blood in my mouth from the impact of her punches. Looking up, I saw her standing above me. The twelve-inch turd lay there between us, almost steaming in the summer heat. With the tiny nugget of shit that had landed into place at the end, the turd looked like an enormous exclamation point. Ariadne came around the table to stand behind me. She grabbed my hair, and forced my head into the shit. My mouth was less than an inch above the turd. The smell was awful. My hair was gathered into her fist behind me, and she pressed my face forward.

"Kiss it," she said. "I want you to kiss my shit."

I said nothing. What could I say? Then she struck me again on the back of the head.

"I said kiss it. Kiss my shit."

The turd lay the length of my face like an object of worship. An armless crucifix, I pressed my lips forward and kissed it quickly.

"There!" I yelled. "I kissed it. I kissed your shit!"

Quietly, all she said was-in a soothing voice no less: "Good. Now lick it.. Lick the length of it. Show me how much you love my shit. Lick my shit! Stick out your tongue and lick it like a cock!" She again pummeled my head with her fist, forcing my head lower again.

Thinking that I had no choice but to go through this to get it over with, I complied. I stuck my tongue out, and began to lick the turd. I kept running my tongue up and down along the thick turd. The taste was wretched, but I had no choice.

"That's right," she said. "It tastes good, doesn't it. Shit eaters like shit. Don't they? Don't you? That's right, you fucking toilet. You like shit. You like the fact that it's big like a cock. Lick the shaft of that shit cock, toilet. Keep licking the shit. You will always eat shit. You will always lick it and love it first. And then you will eat it."

Luridly, I licked away at the turd, running my tongue slowly from one end to the other, doing the full twelve inches, hoping she would let me go. My cock was hard as a rock, and she kept groping me there, whispering, "Look how hard you get, you piece of shit. You shit lover. Shit turns you on, doesn't it?"

Then she released my head. I was thrown back and collapsed. My lips and tongue being coated with a thick bitter chocolate film of Ariadne's shit. The turd quivered like brown Jell-O.

"Look at it," she said. "Look at the turd. That is what you will be eating for the rest of your life."