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The Local Flavour

Date: 6/22/2015, Categories: Dark Fantasy, Authoritarian, Female Domination, Mature, Scatology, Author: nunkie, Rating: 0, Source: sexstories.com

shit-filled mouth. ‘Oh my, you have no idea how sweet you look like this. This is better then I had imagined.’ Suddenly the taste hits me. It is like nothing I have ever tasted. Rot and decay in its ultimate essence. Foul, bitter. Absolutely nauseating, a stinging sharpness that completely numbs the inside of my mouth. I gag and start to push the foul mass out of my mouth with my tongue, but Sara places a hand under my chin and pushes it up to close my mouth. ‘No no no. You have to eat it. The shitting is only half the fun. I want to see you eat it.’ There is no way I can swallow the horrid thing in my mouth. I shake my head to free myself from her grip and start prodding again with my tongue. Instead of trying to control my head, Sara reaches down and grabs my balls. ‘I said eat it. Don’t make this harder than it is.’ She squeezes my balls in sign that she means it. I resist from trying to push out the turd, but cannot bring myself to swallow it. ‘Chew it. And show me while you’re chewing. I want to see my shit inside your mouth while you’re mulling it around.’ She twists my balls, urging me into action. Reluctantly, I sink my teeth into the foul mass. It is softer than I thought, but breaching its surface releases a new wave of bitter taste. ‘Don’t stop. You’re doing fine. Just don’t make a face like it’s the most horrible thing you’ve ever eaten. That’s my shit you’re eating there. Show some respect.’ I try to make a happy face while I chew, but it must be a funny sight ... because she breaks out in laughter. Meantime, the taste isn’t getting any better, but at least I’ve managed to soften up the mass with my saliva and I think I can swallow a small portion. With my tongue, I pry off a ball of shit from the mushy mass and move it towards the back of my throat. Closing my eyes, I swallow hard. Tears well up in my eyes while the lump slides slowly down my throat. I gag again and barely manage to suppress the urge to vomit. I open my eyes and through the blur see her staring at my mouth, fascinated. ‘Don’t hurry, darling. Give yourself time to get used to it. It’s just like the oysters, remember? Let it slither over your tongue just enough to catch the flavor, then throw your head back and let it slide down your throat.’ If the oysters were bad, this is worse. I’d gladly settle for oysters now. But it’s not oyster in my mouth, it is a large clump of shit and I somehow have to deal with it. After a short rest, I start on the second portion. To be over with my ordeal quicker, I make it twice the size of the first. That makes it harder to swallow, and I feel a sharp pain in my stomach as it pushes past my diaphragm. Just when I prepare the third portion, my stomach suddenly cramps and I know I’m done for. I turn my head to one side, away from Sara, and my whole body jerks as my stomach expulses its contents in a series of violent explosions. When I finally calm down, Sara is standing by the bed. ‘There was no need to do that. That was a perfectly good ...