#pervertpentet

(A Pervert Pentet story featuring Potty-Mouth Piper and Sharking Sherry)

Content Warning: While there are plenty of references to human-toilet type activities, none of them actually occur in this story. Though there is a bit of flatulence and a big enema scene at the end. Honestly, this was just kind of a fun one to write. Reading it back makes me smile or laugh in quite a few places 

This is also my most illustrated story so far, and as you can see by the vastly changing art style, I’m still definitely finding a way of illustrating things in a way I enjoy. EDIT: Also, I apparently ran afoul of tumblr’s bots, so I censored the images here and linked to the uncensored versions posted on Twitter.

Sherry had settled into college life rather nicely by the beginning of her third year. There was a routine that was comfortable for her; her schoolwork was challenging but she prided herself on being smart as well as pretty. She excelled at math, which was good, but as she was becoming a young adult, Sherry wondered if the reason for that was because she worked harder on account of her belief that asian girls were supposed to be good at that sort of thing. 

But none of that mattered right now. Right now, Sherry was at the park, hiding behind some bushes with her friend Josh, waiting for some cute girl to walk by in a little skirt that Sherry could yank up, or a tube top she could pull down. Josh was her camera-man, so his job was to get a good shot of the unsuspecting girl’s non-consensually exposed tits or pussies so that they could post it online later. 

It was fall, so unfortunately most of the girls were starting to cover up. She was about to give up when a prime sharking candidate came into view.  She was tall and skinny like a runway model, but she had this punky tomboy vibe. She had this big green flop of hair that hung over one side of her face, but the rest was short and dyed black. Most importantly, she was wearing this teensy little red-plaid skirt. The thing couldn’t have been more than six inches long! 

She was holding hands with this red-headed girl who looked like almost her exact opposite. The red-head seemed a bit shy with this over-baggy knit sweater and brown khakis. The punky one was making googly eyes at her like they were high-school sweethearts. Wait, Sherry thought, Maybe they are! 

“Josh! Do you think those are yuri girls??” Sherry whispered the exclamation at Josh. 

“What?” Josh wasn’t as acquainted with Japanese culture as Sherry. In fact, he didn’t really share many of her interests, and he mostly just hung out with Sherry because of her penchant to “accidentally” expose herself. She was also pretty sexually aggressive in a bizarrely cute way. Case-in-point was her habit of asking him to film while she yanked strange girl’s clothes off in public. 

“Yuris! You know, lesbians!” Sherry clarified, exasperated. 

“I dunno, but the punk girl seems kinda… scary. Girls like that carry switchblades and shit.” 

Sherry had pretty much stopped listening to Josh’s objections, she was focused on what might be under that little plaid skirt. Cotton panties? Boyshorts? G-string? Maybe even the holy grail, pantyless!

She couldn’t wait another second to find out, she was going in! Sherry pulled up the hood on her sweater and made her way casually to the gay girls who had stopped to talk. She didn’t even notice Josh excusing himself to leave, mumbling something about, “... she’s hot, but this is all getting too weird.” 

Sherry was practiced at the maneuver that came next, she just had to act real casual, like she was just walking by. She had the advantage of being short, so she barely had to bend down to get a good grip on the hem of the punk girl’s skirt and with a sudden jerk, she pulled it up to the unsuspecting lesbian’s armpits. 

She looked down to see nothing but naked skin beneath the garment! Pantyless! She finally found one! Her brain rushed to figure out what to do next; this was a rare opportunity to expose this girl’s secret shame to the world. She reached down to spread the girls ass and legs apart, and tried to angle it so Josh could get a good view of her most private areas from behind. Her eyes darted up to see where he was, but to her shock, she saw him walking away! 

“JOSH!!! YOU DIDN’T GET THE SHOT!!!” She screamed after him. 

Sherry was briefly frozen by awkwardness as she met the eyes of the now-exposed girl who was currently less than two feet away from her. A brief moment of stillness passed as she considered what to do. 

“Eeep!” She exclaimed before slowly turning and running away as fast as she could. 

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series. Content warning: subtext of tragic loss)

_____________________________________________

“Hmmmm.” she made the noise as she struggled to figure out the puzzle before her. Her eyes narrowed to closely examine the sidewalk below. She’d happened to be walking past a nightclub with a rather substantial queue of people spilling down the street. It was evening now, so she’d switched from her tank-top and micro mini-skirt into a pink tube top and ultra-mini skirt (it was really more like a belt made of fabric than a skirt); she used the public changing room a few blocks from her house, the little one with the glass walls and the old-time telephone on one side. At least this one guy she knew told her that it was a changing room. She kinda remembered something about how Superman changed clothes in a thing like that so it made sense to her. The guy said how the glass seemed clear from the inside, but that in reality nobody could see in because it was two way glass or something? Bailee thought it was really complicated, but he obviously knew better than her. She always liked to get totally naked when she was inside there and act really slutty since nobody could see her. She’d shake her tits or spread her ass, or sometimes even masturbate. There weren’t that many of the telephone changing booth thingies around anymore, so she figured that this one was kind of a tourist attraction, what with the big crowd and all the people taking pictures when she was inside. By a big coincidence, she always managed to get to it right before the crowd formed! How lucky is that!

“Hmmmmmmmm.” She bent down further to try to examine the sidewalk. One of the really nice men in the line had told her she’d dropped something and she should bend down to pick it up. After a few seconds of looking, she’d told him that she didn’t see anything, but he assured her that something was down there and that she should keep looking. She was sooo lucky that men were so patient with her. She wasn’t that bright, and she had no idea what she’d do without nice men helping her the way they always did. Like that doctor guy who told her that it’s better for her body that if, when she bends over, she plants her feet wide and bends at the waist with her back straight.

“Hmmmmmmmmmm.” She kept repeating the noise while she kept trying, like, really super hard to figure out what she dropped and why she couldn’t see it. It was starting to make her head hurt, and she’d been bending over to look for it for probably a good two minutes now. Finally she stood up and apologized to the nice man who told her she dropped something. That’s when she noticed that there were several people behind her who all seemed to have their camera-phones out and pointed at her.

She hopped in excitement; the huge, firm, silicone tits almost whacking her in the chin as she did so. “Oh my gosh! You wanna take my picture? Yay! Thanks, everybody!” She quickly flipped the golden waves of hair that cascaded over her shoulders and struck a pose. She may not have been so good with thinky stuff, but this? This she was good at! It was the number one most important thing for a girl to know how to be pretty and sexy, after all! She stuck one fingertip in her pouting mouth and raised one leg in a coy pose while making sure to stick out her tits and ass. After a few seconds she switched to a more confident pose; hands on her hips with her shoulders back, tits thrust forward obscenely.

“Oh wait!” she quickly pinched and twisted her nipples through the semi-sheer pink tank top to make sure they stood out more through her clothes. Guys like it when girls do that, she’d learned. She went back to the boobie pose with nipples sufficiently erect. She switched to a sensual pose where she closed her eyes and raked her hands through her hair. But she couldn’t help but think that she could get some better pictures for the nice men if she had an object to play with, like a lollipop or… oh! Or another girl!

She quickly scanned the line of people before her glassy eyes set their sights on a cute Persian-looking girl with 32D tits. Bailee giggled for a moment; she may be have been dumb, but at least she wasn’t dumb enough to have small tits!

“Hey, 32D! Come over here and make out with me for some pictures!”

The girl glanced down at her chest and then back at Bailee. “Wait, how did you know?”

Bailee just giggled in response. Geez this little slut was stupid. How would she ever get guys if she didn’t know how to rank and compare girls. Men do it all the time automatically, so Bailee made sure she was constantly aware of how she ranked compared to all the girls around her. She was currently number one, and she was giving the 32D girl a chance to be second, only the little ditz was just standing there.

Bailee sighed, she was a 32J, so she was obviously the girl in-charge around here. She grabbed the tan little dummy and shoved her tongue down her throat. She seemed surprised but didn’t seem to object. 32D actually started getting into it once Bailee took one of her hands and stuffed it under the pink tank top so that she could have a chance to see what real boobs feel like.

Bailee wasn’t into girls that much, but what she was into was doing anything to get attention from men. They really liked it when girls made out with each other or licked each others kitties. In fact, Bailee was pretty sure that the whole “lesbian” thing was just a trick to get boys to pay attention to them.

The little Persian girl was starting to make these sensual little moaning noises; at least she wasn’t a prude. Bailee was glad, she hated prudes! She remembered that guys really like pictures of girls licking each others pussies or buttholes, and it was her job to make guys happy. So she squatted down, making sure to spread her legs so everyone could see how good a job she did shaving while she pulled up 32D’s skirt, but she gasped when she saw what was underneath.

“Oh my god! You’re wearing panties?!? Gross!” Bailee always thought panties were really dumb. What’s the point of even wearing a dress if you’re just going to cover up your holes anyway! And besides, everybody knows that pussies need to be uncovered to be healthy. That’s why it’s always best for girls to wear the shortest skirt possible and always sit with their legs open.

After she got over the initial aversion, she started feeling sorry for the girl. Obviously all girls want guys to put their dicks inside them, but the flat-chested little ditz was too dumb to know how. Bailee decided to help by yanking the girl’s panties to her ankles. She made a little noise of objection, but didn’t end up resisting. She just got this really embarrassed smile while everybody took pictures of her little mocha-colored pussy. Bailee had her step out of the underwear, which was a pain. Imagine if this girl had to do all that while a nice man was waiting to put his cock in her butt, she thought.  

She held the garment at arms length as if she was holding a dirty rag and walked over to drop it in the gutter. When she turned back, 32D was covering her face in this giggley embarrassed way. That was good! Boys seem to get super turned on when girls are embarrassed. Bailee went back over and squatted down to stick out her tongue as far as she could and licked at the girl’s bare pussy gingerly. The light-brown girl had her pubic hair shaved into a little heart, which Bailee liked. At least she prepared to have her kitty on display. She tried to stay facing forward so everybody could get both of their naked crotches in the picture. Bailee really only flicked the girls clit with the tip of her tongue. It was more important that all the nice men get sexy pictures than it was to actually pleasure the panty-wearing dummy.

32D seemed to get relaxed a bit after that. She even took the lead and posed for pictures with Bailee’s giant boobs; pulling her little tube-top up, holding the firm-pink orbs with her little hands, even pinching and pulling her nipples. She had to admit, as dumb as this girl might be when it comes to getting cock, she could have been a lot worse!

After a few minutes, 32D introduced Bailee to her boyfriend. He looked Persian, too. Also, he dressed like he had a lot of money. He offered to pay Bailee’s way into the club so that she could hang out and have fun with them all night.

He was even nice enough to buy her a drink and he put this special vitamin in it that he said would keep Bailee from getting a hangover the next day. She must have drank a lot, because she didn’t really remember much of what happened after that. Later that night, she had a vague sense of being in a hotel room while a bunch of really awesome guys took turns having sex with her. That made her happy. She also thought she heard the nice Persian man talking with one of the men about money. Geez! What a workaholic! Who talks business while a girl is trying to get lucky!

***

Bailee woke up the next day to find herself laying in a bed in a hospital room. This cute young Indian doctor with a boyish look noticed she was awake and came over to her. He paused for a moment, seeming a bit flustered.

“Hello, Bailee. How are you feeling?” he started with this super hot English accent.

“Ummm, I dunno. I think I had, like, a super fun and good night last night. I kinda remember getting to do like, a lot of sex, and I got to give a bunch of guys blowjobs.” she paused to think for a moment, “Oh, hey! Do you want a blowjob? You’re totally, like, super cute.”

He seemed a bit flustered, “Umm, no. That’s quite all right. The police found you passed out on the couch of a hotel lobby. You… didn’t have any clothes on. They brought you here to make sure you were okay. We learned that you had a rather substantial dose of Rohypnol in your system. Do you have any reason to believe that anything happened last night that you didn’t agree to?”

Bailee shook her head, “uh uh, I think I had a really fun night.” she said before giggling. As she was answering, this hot older woman with silver hair and a lab coat came in. Bailee thought it was silly the way she was dressed. She might be middle-aged, but she still had a good body. Maybe her and Bailee could go out and pretend to be mother and daughter to pick up boys! Guys were totally into that sort of thing.

The older lady leaned over to the cute boy doctor and whispered something to him. She said something about Bailee’s “fee-an-say,” which Bailee figured was a fancy doctor word she didn’t know. And she said something about how Bailee hasn’t been the same since.

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series) 

Content Warning: The following story contains depictions of feces, flatulance, vomit, and mucus; with most being eaten. Also, just some absolutely depraved examples of hand-holding, kissing, cuddling, and heartfelt declarations of lesbian teenage love. 

Also, this finishes out Chapter One of Piper’s story. Her next appearance will be when her story intersects with another member of the Pervert Pentet (Sharking Sherry, who’s one of the last two members to be introduced).

Part 3

Piper spent the next few weeks in the psych ward; Mackenzie visited as often as she was able. She couldn’t get enough of seeing Piper’s face light up every time she saw her. She had even scouted some nearby stores to see if she could find the same puzzle that Piper had been working on when she first visited her in the hospital. When she finally found it and presented the gift, Piper seemed so touched that she actually held back tears. The green-haired filth-fetishist was smiling ear to ear as they were finally able to complete the puzzle together.

“Together” may be an overstatement. In truth, Piper did well over ninety percent of it, mostly while explaining the geometry of irregular tessellations in jigsaw puzzles and something about how the pieces could be categorized by pattern… or something. Mackenzie honestly couldn’t follow when she started going on about things like that, but she loved seeing how happy it made her to have someone who actually listened to her ramblings. She learned a lot about Piper in those few weeks; one of the most surprising things is that the mohawked, foul-mouth punk was really, REALLY smart.

It took a few awkward conversations for Mackenzie to get her parents to believe that she kept visiting because she just sincerely liked Piper. They weren’t the type to pry much, but at first it seemed like they believed that she felt sorry for the green-haired girl, or that it was part of her learning to forgive Piper for what had happened during the school assembly. She had to be clear that she really just thought Piper was interesting and sweet, and that despite her “behavioral problems” she might want to start dating her once she was released from the mental hospital.

When that day finally came, Mackenzie wanted to spend every moment with her and finally get a chance to do more than talk with her in the visiting room of a hospital. Unfortunately, Piper explained that she wanted some time to smooth things over with her mom, first. A few agonizingly long days later, Mackenzie finally got a text saying that Piper’s mom was okay with them having a sleepover! She still felt like this was all some kind of fantasy! As if all the disgusting porn she’d watched online over the last few years congealed into this perfectly vulgar woman who was too good, too dirty, too pretty to be real. There were even times where she considered that maybe she was spending so much time in a mental hospital because Piper was a delusion, a fantasy she made up to help the shy girl act out all of her obscene secret desires.

But as she approached the brick ranch-style house where Piper lived, she knew it was all real. She walked up the steps and rang the doorbell, her heart racing with anticipation. Her tension grew a bit when she saw that it was Piper’s mother who answered the door. She had heard mostly good things about Miss Lindeholm, but she couldn’t help but be a little bit intimidated now that she knew she was a professional dominatrix.

Mackenzie was invited inside where she barely had time to set down her overnight bag before she saw a grinning Piper barreling toward her. Their chests collided as she threw her arms around her and squeezed. Mackenzie couldn’t help but giggle at the unrestrained eagerness. She returned the hug and couldn’t keep her heart from fluttering as her hands touched Piper’s bare skin. She wore a threadbare black tank top that had been cut off at the bottom of her ribs and a plaid mini-skirt. At the hospital, they hadn’t been permitted to touch very much, and the pajama-like outfit almost made her forget how delicately slender Piper’s body was. If she were a couple inches taller, she could have been a runway model.

Piper’s mom watched with a slight smirk for several seconds as the two girls embraced. “All right, you’ll have plenty of time for that later. I’d like to talk to Mackenzie now. Please give us the room, Piper.” Her tone seemed pleasant, but firm. Though that didn’t do much to assuage Mackenzie’s nervousness.

As they reluctantly pulled away from each other, Mackenzie caught Piper’s eyes. The worried expression on her face prompted Piper to explain, “No, it’s cool. My mom’s rad as fuck. She just wants to make sure I’m not, like, blackmailing you with pictures of you sucking a dog’s dick or something.”

“What?? Oh! Oh gosh, no.” She turned to the older woman, “No, it’s nothing like that, Ma’am. I really, really like Piper.”

“All the same, I’d like Piper to excuse us so that we can talk.” Miss Lindeholm led Mackenzie to a sleek looking leather and metal couch in the living room that faced a glass coffee table. A slightly dejected Piper made her way to what looked like the kitchen.

Mackenzie sat next to the professionally dressed blonde woman. “I sense you’re nervous, Mackenzie,” she began in a kind voice as she took her hand, “but I promise you that you’re safe. If my daughter has said or done anything to compel you to come here or to have a relationship with her, you can tell me and I’ll protect you.” There was something about her that almost immediately instilled trust, there was an effortless confidence that was also nurturing. Mackenzie supposed that was part of what made her a good dominatrix.

She took a deep breath to try to still her nerves before responding. “I really, really, REALLY like your daughter, Ma’am. I… Well I guess I’ve only ever told her this, but umm, I fantasized about things like this a lot for a long time before I met Piper. And I would look at… umm… ya know… scat porn.” Mackenzie’s face scrunched up and turned beet red for a moment as she realized that she’d just told her friend’s mom that she’d been looking at scat porn on the internet for years. She tried to power through it, “So, Piper is just sort of like all my… fetishes, and everything else I ever fantasized about. All put together.”

There was a momentary pause before Piper’s mom spoke, “Okay. I’m very happy to hear that, Mackenzie. To be honest, I was skeptical that the things Piper was telling me about you were true. She almost never lies, but she also can’t tell when other people are lying to her. So a part of me was worried that you were playing a trick on her. But I’m very relieved by what you’ve told me. Piper has mentioned to you that I’m a sex-worker, correct?”

“Yes, Ma’am. She said you’re a professional mistress?”

“That’s right. I get the sense that you feel hesitant in talking about your fetishes, but I want you to know that you won’t be judged in this household for any of those feelings. It’s okay to be sexually aroused by touching or eating shit, or watching others touch or eat shit. It’s actually a lot more common than most people would believe. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Mackenzie thought for a moment about what she’d just heard. Obviously no one had ever said that to her before, as she was only the second person to even know about her fetish, but she’d also never had anyone tell her that it was okay. She never thought of herself as someone who held a lot of shame for her kink, yet somehow, it was as if she felt the release of a huge burden that she didn’t even know she was carrying. After briefly getting lost in thought, she realized that Miss Lindeholm was still sitting there waiting for a response. “No, Ma’am.” she took a deep breath to steady her resolve and then released it, “Miss Lindeholm, it really turns me on watching girls eat poop. And I want to eat poop, too… because I think it’s a really sexy thing to do.” She let out a tiny giggle after she finished her admission. “I can’t believe I really said that to you! It actually feels really...relieving, I guess!”

“I’m glad. Being able to communicate about what turns you on is important. And so is consent. If you’re going to have a relationship with my daughter, I want to talk to you about some things. Given the things Piper likes to do, there’s a bit of a unique ‘sex talk’ that’s specific for her.

“But first, the basics: Remember that you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Anything you do with a partner should be because you both want to be doing it. Now relationships are complex, and consent is complex. But a good rule of thumb is that ‘no’ means no, ‘maybe’ means no, and only ‘fuck yes’ means yes. What that means is that you should both be enthusiastic about the sex acts you engage in. If you perform certain activities solely because the other person wants you to, it eventually causes problems in your relationship. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. Now getting into specifics: First, Eating feces runs a high risk of making you sick at first. It is possible for your digestive system to adapt, god knows Piper is evidence of that, but if you choose to engage in that fetish, you should go slowly at first. I’ve left a bottle of medicine in Piper’s room to help minimize the chance of you becoming ill, you should take one every twelve hours for a couple of days, even if you don’t feel like anything is wrong. Second, urine is mostly safe to drink, but keep in mind that your body will be filtering it a second time when you swallow it. So as sexy as you might find it to only drink each others piss, over time it can put an unhealthy strain on your kidneys.

“So to sum up, you can drink piss every day, but you still need to drink real water to stay healthy. And you can work up to eating shit every day, but you need to be careful, and you’ll still need real food. Do you have any questions, Mackenzie?”

She sat for a moment taking it all in. While the brief lecture from a women she barely knew was, without a doubt, unfathomably awkward, Mackenzie also found it really helpful. Not only because of the information, but because of the assurance that while she was in this house, she could feel like she was normal. This woman had explained the risks of trying to drink nothing but Piper’s piss with more comfort and ease than her own mother did when she explained why she shouldn’t flush tampons. “No, Ma’am. No questions. Umm, thank you for all that, though. Can I see Piper now?”

She released Mackenzie’s hand that she’d been gently cradling through the conversation and gave a small nod. As she stood up, she saw Piper eagerly stride into the room; apparently she’d been eavesdropping the whole time. “Okay, cool. So I made dinner for you and me. My mom doesn’t like when I make food for her because I always put the food in my ass first, but you said that’s something you wanted to try?”

“Yes!” Mackenzie replied enthusiastically. Piper took her gently by the wrist and led her into the kitchen. She was increasingly noticing that Piper’s home had a very sterile, modern look to it. Best she could tell, her mom ordered all their home furnishings from a Sharper Image catalogue.

The two of them finally came to be in front of a large bowl of green goo that had been set on the marble countertop. Next to it was a enormous tube with a plunger that Mackenzie recognized from her videos as an enema syringe. “So I made us split pea soup. It looks gross as shit, but it tastes really good. Also, it makes you fart a lot. I thought about squirting it up my asshole before you came over, but I figured you’d probably want to watch that part. Oh! And it’s vegetarian.”

Mackenzie had revealed that her family didn’t eat meat during their conversations at the hospital over the last few weeks, so she appreciated the consideration. In fact, she was impressed with the amount of thought Piper had put into everything. She gave an joyful nod of approval and then watched Piper suck up a large quantity of the bright green sludge into the enema syringe.

“Here.” Piper said with a confident smile as she handed the large tube to Mackenzie. For a moment, Mackenzie almost looked confused. Piper smirked and gave a confident shrug, “Figured you’d want to do the honors and fill up my fart-hole.”

Mackenzie gasped gently in awe, and then nodded her head excitedly. Piper leaned over onto the counter and flipped up the back of her skirt. She used one hand to pull her ass apart, but in truth it was unnecessary; while Piper’s ass had a pleasant roundness to it, the long, lean girl’s butt was rather small, and her cheeks readily parted to reveal her little pink anus and shaved vulva as soon as she bent past forty-five degrees.

“You don’t have to do anything special, just stick the end in and push that part on top down slowly.” Mackenzie nodded in response to Piper’s instructions. She took a deep breath and lined up the tip of the big acrylic tube. She pushed and felt Piper’s asshole give minimal resistance; the actual tip was about two inches long, and once it was all the way in, she noticed the girl’s sphincter clench around it to create a tight seal. As Mackenzie began to push down the plunger, she considered how practiced Piper must be at this. After all, she was so dedicated to ass to mouth that she had it tattooed on the side of her head. Though the tattoos had recently become slightly obscured by the yellow stubble that had grown during her stay in the psych ward.

“Do you really do this with everything you eat?” Mackenzie asked as she gingerly pumped the tasty green slurry into her friend’s bowels.

“Well with soup and stew and that kinda shit, yeah,” she began casually, as if she weren’t actively receiving a warm pea-soup enema from a conservatively dressed teen redhead, “Other stuff I just need to make sure it’s dick-shaped like baguettes or wraps or carrots. And there are things you can kinda stuff up there like french fries or scrambled eggs, and big things like pizza I just tear into pieces and shove up my ass a piece at a time.”

“Wow.” She had talked to Piper about her compulsion to only ever eat things that had been inside someone’s asshole (normally her own, purely out of convenience), but that had been so abstract before now. “Why…” she began the question hesitantly, “I mean, why do you do it?”

“Uhh, because I’m fuckin’ awesome?” Mackenzie giggled girlishly at Piper’s response.

“I think it’s empty now.” she noted as she finished emptying their soon to be dinner up the girl’s shitter.

“Okay, pull it out slowly.” Piper’s asshole immediately clenched shut to trap the liquid inside her as Mackenzie withdrew the enema syringe. She stood up and began massaging her slightly distended abdomen. “Seriously, though, I had the idea a long time ago, and I think I’m probably the only person in the world who does this. I mean, if you read fantasies about people being full toilet slaves, there’s a bunch of people who fantasize about eating nothing but shit for their whole lives. But it’s not medically possible; there are things your body needs and doesn’t excrete, so if you only eat shit you eventually end up with serious nutritional deficiencies. But if I do it this way, then even if I’m not always eating shit, I’m always eating something that someone shit out of their ass.”

“So… you’re kinda like the number one scat-girl in the whole world?” Mackenzie asked, excitement slightly overtaking her timid manner.

“Fuckin’ awesome, right??”

“Totally awesome.” She replied as Piper placed a green bowl on the floor and squatted over it. Mackenzie was transfixed as she watched her friend skillfully dispense the thick green soup from her asshole. She’d watched plenty of videos of girls getting food enemas (milk or whipped cream seemed most common), normally it would come out in squirts and sputters, but Piper may as well have been a mechanical food dispenser as smoothly as she plopped the ass-slime into the bowl. It just reinforced the idea that Piper was a queen of filth; the girls in videos only did those kinds of things for porn. But Piper did them every day.

The first bowl was full and she clenched her hole briefly as she switched to the second bowl. She repeated the process of dispensing split pea soup with a wet plopping sound. It only took about thirty seconds for her to fill both. She kept her legs wide as she stood almost all the way up into a half-squat. She grabbed a paper towel and began to move it toward her backside to clean the last residue of the green goo.

“Wait!” Mackenzie shouted, probably too loudly, while grabbing Piper’s wrist. “Can I…? I mean…can we use my tongue to be toilet paper… for you?” She was embarrassed by the awkward phrasing, but she was proud of herself for being bold enough to ask.

Piper nodded with surprise and approval, before bending forward to grab her ankles. Mackenzie hesitantly squatted down behind her, staring at the few specks of green still sticking to her anal ring. She finally stuck out her tongue and launched her face at Piper’s butt. She almost knocked the skinny girl off balance with her eagerness, but grabbed onto the front of her hips to steady her. She gave one long, hard lick from the back of Piper’s pussy all the way to the top of her ass-crack. She swallowed hard with a tight-lipped grin as the other girl turned around to face her.

“You make really good toilet paper.” For a moment, Piper’s big grin seemed almost coy. Anyone looking at the two young women at that moment would know that they were lovestruck, in that special and charmingly awkward way that only teenagers can be.

Piper picked up the two bowls before spending a few moments getting lost in Mackenzie’s cerulean-blue eyes. She took a quick breath and let it out sharply to focus herself before handing a bowl to Mackenzie. “Okay, we should go to the dining room. My mom’s probably getting tired of waiting.”

She handed one of the bowls to Mackenzie and the two of them headed into the next room where Piper’s mother sat patiently at the head of a rectangular table in front of what appeared to be a chef’s salad that had been prepared by a high-end food delivery service.

“Sorry we took so long, Mom.” Piper said as the she and Mackenzie sat next to each other at one side of the table.

“It’s perfectly all right. Mackenzie is experiencing a lot of new things, and there’s no need to rush her.” She picked up her fork and stabbed the salad a few times, collecting the different elements into a single bite. Piper dipped her spoon into the butthole-flavored soup that had been freshly prepared.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness as Mackenzie bowed her head and clasped her hands, briefly whispering a quick prayer of gratitude before eating. When she opened her eyes, she could tell by the slightly uncomfortable smiles that her dining companions were unaccustomed to the ritual. She couldn’t honestly blame them; a sex-worker and a lesbian scatgirl no doubt had experiences where they’d run afoul of some of the less progressive followers of Christ.

“So how did you become a professional mistress, Miss Lindeholm?” Mackenzie asked to break the tension. She reverently brought the first spoon-full of pea-soup to her mouth as the older woman began to answer.

“Well, hmm, where to begin.” she mused to herself briefly. “My family moved here from Sweden just before I started high-school. Being a tall, pretty blonde with a foreign accent meant that I became something of an obsession for the boys at school. Even at that age, I could tell that I was more of a fetish for them, so rather than ending up with a boyfriend, my interactions were more... transactional.”

“Transactional?” Mackenzie thought she knew what the word meant, but she wanted to be sure.

“It means that we were each trading things we wanted from the other, dear. I would get gifts and favors, and the boys would get what they wanted. As an example, the going rate was five dollars to flash my breasts for five seconds.” she said with a self-satisfied smirk.

“That’s… like a dollar a second!”

Piper’s mom flashed an amused grin at the shy redheads excitement. “Eventually they started doing bigger and bigger things for me and expecting more in return, which is how I ended up pregnant with Piper my Junior year. My parents were furious but they couldn’t disown me while I was a minor, so they kicked me and Piper out of the house when I turned eighteen. Piper was almost two at the time. We were briefly homeless, and the only way I knew how to make money was to let boys pay to do what they wanted with my body. It was… difficult for a few years but I kept working until I could charge more and more.. Eventually I trained to be a pro-domme, and now I run my own dungeon where I make a lot of money, and I get to tell everyone else what to do.” She finished her story with a proud smile.

“Wow!” was all Mackenzie said. She had been so obsessed with Piper, she had hardly taken the time to appreciate what an impressive woman her mother was. And beautiful, too. The golden-haired scandinavian beauty should be around thirty-five by Mackenzie’s math, but she had a timeless quality that could easily have allowed her to pass for ten years younger.

She turned her focus to the bowl of food that she’d been absentmindedly slurping as she listened to Miss Lindeholm’s brief recap of her life, taking the time to really enjoy the flavor. It was good! Comfortingly warm with all the right spices in subtle combinations, and a slightly earthy flavor that she suspected (hoped) came from its brief time inside Piper’s ass.

“What about your parents, Mackenzie. What do they do?”

She briefly glanced over to see Piper smiling widely as she ate, she seemed happy to see her two favorite women bonding with one another. She turned back, “Well, my father writes early chapter books for elementary and middle-school kids. He does a lot of ‘choose-your-own-adventure’ stories, ‘cus he says that if people learn how to make decisions when they’re young, they’ll be better at it when they grow up.”

“And that’s how your parents raised you?” she asked as she popped another mouthful of the crisp salad into her mouth.

“Mhm! My parents always tried to let me make my own decisions. I guess that’s why I never really went through a rebellious phase. Oh, and my mom does arts and crafts. She sews and knits and crochets, she even draws and paints sometimes, too. She illustrated a couple of my dad’s books, and she makes most of my clothes. She’s kind of a workaholic.”

Around that time she heard Piper reaching the bottom of her soup. She hadn’t said much, but she seemed content, if slightly eager to move the evening toward the fun part.

Mackenzie, sensing Piper’s eagerness, rushed to finish her own soup. Piper finally spoke up, “Okay, mom. We’re done, can we be excused now?”

“Oh, but I’m having such a nice time talking with your new friend.” her mom teased. “We have ice-cream for dessert, you know.”

“I’m lactose intolerant.” Mackenzie interjected.

Piper’s eyes widened, “Wait, really??”

“Yeah?”

“Well, like, does it hurt you, or are you just like… PPFFFTTT!!” Piper ended her sentence by making a vulgar, simulated fart noise with her mouth.

Mackenzie blushed for a moment, finally grasping the reason for Piper’s excitement. She looked up to catch Piper’s expectant gaze. “We should have ice cream.” she giggled.

“Can we have dessert in my room, Mom? Please?” Piper pleaded.

Miss Lindeholm sighed with a smile, knowing there was no point in trying to keep the scat-addicted lesbian love-birds apart. “Okay, sweetheart. Just keep everything contained to your room.”

Piper leapt up from her chair and ran to the kitchen. She returned a moment later holding a pint of ice-cream and a spoon before she grabbed Mackenzie by the wrist and pulled her excitedly down the hall.

The happy duo reached the threshold of the bedroom, but Mackenzie felt her foot catch on something in the doorway. They tripped and she tumbled to the floor on top of Piper. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

The two of them stood up, realizing that maybe they should tone down their excitement just a tad. “It was my fault,” Piper began with a contrite smile, “I forgot to warn you about the edge. I always used to think that if I ever had someone over that I should remember to tell them that it’s a tripping hazard, and now I finally have someone here and I forgot.”

Mackenzie looked down to see what she’d tripped over, and realized that there was a lip coming up about two inches separating the floor of Piper’s room from the rest of the house. Furthermore, while most of the house was floored with an elegant grey carpet, Piper’s room seemed to be lined with a sturdy, off-white linoleum. The furniture, she realized, was all either on legs, or raised a few inches off the ground with risers. “Do you…” she began piecing together the reason for the odd decor, “pee and poop on the floor?”

“Not just on the floor!” Piper responded excitedly as she motioned over to the bed, placing the ice-cream on a nightstand. “Feel it.” she said, offering a piece of what appeared to be oddly thick black sheets. Upon examining the material, she realized that it felt somewhat like a wet-suit. The mattress covering and pillowcases seemed to all be made of the same soft, yet waterproof material.

Every time Mackenzie thought she had a grasp on the intensity of Piper’s filth fetish, she showed her a new dimension. This, she thought, truly takes the cake. Piper’s entire bedroom was designed to be used as a toilet!

She almost couldn’t conceive of someone whose life was that dedicated to a filth fetish. She couldn’t believe that Piper’s mom had been so accepting! This actually required pretty major renovations of the house!

“Oh, and check this out.” Piper continued as she opened a door that Mackenzie had previously assumed was a closet, “Ta-da! Private bathroom.” She looked inside to see a sink and bathtub, but where she expected the toilet to go was a stacked washer/dryer combo. There also seemed to be an industrial wet-vac against one wall. “My mom doesn’t like me making a mess in the rest of the house, so she made it so that I can do whatever I want in here as long as I keep the door closed, and I clean up after myself.”

“This...is incredible.” Mackenzie was awed. Before she met Piper, she’d always fantasized about dating the type of vulgar, filthy women that made scat porn, but Piper was definitely not that kind of woman. She was so far beyond them.

“Oh! Before I forget…” Piper hopped over to the dresser beside the door from which they entered and opened the bottom drawer. It was empty. “I cleared this out, so you could have a place to put your stuff when you come over. I made it the bottom drawer so I could look at your butthole when you bend over to get stuff out of it. I mean, if you’re naked in here. Which I usually am. But you don’t have to be if you don’t want to. Redheads usually have really pretty buttholes, so I hope I get to see yours.”

Mackenzie had learned that Piper had a tendency to announce her inappropriate thoughts aloud, and also that she never acted like they were inappropriate. Somehow it always made her feel like she could be liberated from her shyness. At one point, she actually spent a few hours one evening trying to think of something she could realistically say or do in front of Piper that might incur her disapproval. Despite her best efforts, nothing came to mind.

“Okay, well… I think I left my overnight bag in the other room. I’m gonna go get that. And, I mean, if you want to get naked while I do that, it would… make my pussy really wet?” Mackenzie attempted to mirror Piper’s obscenely inappropriate manner, but it didn’t quite suit her just yet.

She headed back toward the front door where she’d dropped her bag, and returned a few seconds later to find the skinny girl proudly displaying all ninety-six pounds of her shaved five-foot-seven frame.

There was a brief pause as Mackenzie felt overwhelmed by the sight before her. She didn’t know if it was love, or lust, or simple adoration; she just knew that she was so thankful that Piper was hers for that moment. She tossed her bag in the drawer as she strode forward with a burning passion. Her arms coiled around the naked girl and their lips met in unbridled intensity. A moment later they were on the bed, Piper beneath her with legs wrapped around the redhead’s hips. Mackenzie’s tongue forcefully pushed its way into Piper’s mouth, an invasion that she welcomed happily, judging by the little moan that escaped her throat. A few seconds later Piper’s tongue pushed back. Meanwhile, Mackenzie’s hands were running over the soft pink flesh beneath her, kneading and groping her tiny breasts, feeling the ribs just beneath her skin, down to the serpentine, writhing muscles of her waist, then sliding around to dig her fingers into a firm handful of Piper’s soft, little ass.

Eventually, the two of them needed to come up for air. They breathed heavily and stared at each other from inches away, both still happily imprisoned in a cage of one another’s limbs. “Wow,” Piper said, “You’re a really good kisser.”

“Thanks.”

“Did I do okay?”

“You’re amazing.” Mackenzie replied.

“Oh good. ‘Cuz I’ve kinda never done that before.”

Mackenzie’s jaw dropped open. “What?! Piper, was that your first kiss???”

She blushed a little bit while smiling. Then nodded.

“But… You’ve had sex!”

Piper looked away with a shy grin, “I mean, only with dudes and like a couple of dogs. And I’m super gay, so I only do that kinda shit because it’s gross and I like saving the cock-snot in my ass for later. But, I’ve never been with a girl before, and… nobody ever wanted to kiss me before.”

“So, you’re kinda like a virgin? With girls at least.”

“I guess.” Piper replied, “What about you?”

Mackenzie shook her head while wearing an uncharacteristically cocky smile. “Nope! Church camp when I was sixteen, and I dated a girl for a couple months last year before we moved here.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you were such a slut.” Piper teased, her words dripping with sarcasm, “In that case, we better keep this on the downlow, I can’t be seen running around with women of low morals, I’ve got my reputation as a good-girl to maintain!” She punctuated the end of her sentence by cocking her hips and releasing a deep, rumbling fart that turned to a wet squeak just at the end.

The two girls burst out laughing and untangled from one another’s arms. “We should close the door if we’re going to be doing that kinda thing, right?” Mackenzie asked, remembering that Piper’s mom went to great lengths to keep the various messes and smells contained in Piper’s bedroom. Piper nodded.

Mackenzie hopped up and shut the door. She turned back to Piper. For a brief moment, she tried to think of some clever or flirty way to say she wanted take her clothes off, but “I’m going to get naked now, okay?” Was all she came up with.

“Okay!” Piper replied, hopping up to a cross-legged position so she could watch. Mackenzie always felt awkward about talking to people, but oddly she never experienced bashfulness when it came to her body. So when Piper treated her undressing as though it was a performance, she was flattered, rather than embarrassed.

She stood in the middle of the room between the bed and the dresser. She grasped the bottom of her yellow knit sweater and peeled that off before placing it in the empty drawer next to her bag. She undid the buttons of her undershirt and dropped it in the drawer as well. She elected not to wear a bra to the sleepover. Despite being a full C-cup nearing a D, her teenaged breasts were still extremely perky. In fact, she considered them possibly her best physical feature. She paused a few moments to give Piper the opportunity to stare at her now naked tits.

She took off her sneakers and socks next. She tried to figure out a sexy way to do that, but after almost falling on her ass twice in the attempt, she decided to just bend over and take them off normally.

“Hey, do you not shave?” Piper asked suddenly. Mackenzie had just finished taking off her shoes and socks, and realized that Piper must have gotten a glimpse of her underarms in the process. Mackenzie always dressed rather conservatively, and what little body-hair she had was extremely fine and light. So she rarely made the effort to remove it. In fact, even though she often wore shorts or knee-length skirts, she’d never had anyone comment on the imperceptible amount of peach-fuzz that adorned her legs. But her armpits did have a small patch of fine, strawberry blonde hair that was noticeable to anyone looking closely. And Piper was looking closely.

“I don’t usually bother. But I can if you want me to. I actually brought a razor just in case. I wasn’t sure what you liked, since I know that you shave everything.”

“It’s cute, don’t shave it!” Piper replied.

She smiled and continued to strip, undoing her flowy ankle-length skirt and letting it fall to the floor. She had worn her cutest pair of white cotton panties with a little pink bow at the top. But she hooked her thumbs in the waist and dropped those to the floor as well.

Mackenzie took a step forward, naked as the day she was born. Her long red hair hung flatly down her back. That and the patch of dark auburn pubic hair were the only splashes of color upon the marble-white canvas of her skin. Her first girlfriend had once commented that her body looked just like the Venus de Milo. At the time, the resemblance was almost uncanny, but her tits had grown a bit since then.

She laughed slightly as she watched Piper’s wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression. She turned around to give her a good look at her backside before bending over to pick up her skirt and underwear so that she could put them in the drawer. Her stance was wide as she bent forward, neatly folding and organizing the pile of clothing she’d dumped. She remembered Piper’s comment about wanting to look at her butthole, and wanted to make sure she had an opportunity to get a good, long look.

Finally she turned around to see the green-haired girl looking a bit awestruck. Piper swallowed before speaking “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Did you know? I feel like someone should have told you. That you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, I mean.”

Mackenzie smiled and blushed, but there was no hint of joking or sarcasm from Piper. Her words were dead-serious, that made Mackenzie blush even more. She took a few steps forward and crawled onto the bed next to her. “So what do you want to do now?”

“Whatever you want to do is cool with me. We can do anything. I’ll… do anything for you.” Piper’s reply sounded almost like she was intimidated. Mackenzie wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Did she really think she was that beautiful? She knew she had a nice body, but she’d always considered herself rather plain looking. One thing was for certain though. Piper was every bit as in love with Mackenzie as Mackenzie was with Piper.

“Seriously,” Mackenzie began, taking the lead, “You said you’ve never had a girl in your room. What’s something you always fantasized about doing in here?”

“Well,” she swallowed nervously, “I guess I always had this fantasy of being with a girl where we just… I don’t know how to describe it, but sort of like…ignored grossness, I guess? Like if we were watching a movie and cuddling, and one of us needed to take a piss, we’d just do it like it’s no big deal. Or if I’m eating your pussy and you need to fart or take a dump, you just do it like it’s nothing, you don’t even ask or say anything. Or if we’re both eating ice cream together and- Oh shit! We still have ice cream, I almost forgot!” She quickly grabbed the thawing pint of ice-cream and the spoon and placed it between them on the bed. “If we’re eating ice cream and you need to blow your nose, you can just, like, blow snot into the ice cream and we both just keep eating it like we don’t care. Is that… something you’d be into?”

Mackenzie’s realized that the two of them were negotiating consent, and her mind flashed back to the little lecture Piper’s mother had given her earlier about that topic. She wanted to be absolutely clear in her enthusiasm. “Fuck yes I’m into that, Piper. Let’s do that!”

“You know, you hide it well, but you’re a seriously bad-ass bitch, aren’t you?” Piper opened the lid of the vanilla bean ice cream and scooped a dollop from the thawed bit around the edges onto the spoon and offered it to Mackenzie. She opened her mouth to allow Piper to feed her and pursed her lips as she withdrew the utensil. Piper then took a second scoop and ate it herself.

“It’s really good.” Mackenzie commented before an observation dawned on her, “Hey! Wait a second! How come you’re eating that? It hasn’t been in your butt.”

“Yeah it has. See? Green sticker.” Piper turned the container to show her. “That’s how we label stuff that’s mine. Sorry if there are ice crystals in it, it’s dangerous to get an enema with stuff that’s really cold, so I had to thaw it all the way and refreeze it.”

“That’s okay. So green is your favorite color, huh?” Mackenzie asked as the pair of them casually shared a pint of ice-cream that had been squirted out of Piper’s shitter at some indeterminate point in the past.

“Yeah, it’s versatile. I mean, it’s the color of boogers and slime and puke, but green is also, like, the color of nature and money and all this good stuff, too. Brown’s the same way; people think of it like a gross color because their shit’s brown, but so is chocolate and coffee, and soil, and wood, and a lot of really hot girls. So I guess I like green and brown because they’re really pretty colors, but they’re underrated or something, I dunno.”

“And they’re the colors of your eyes.” Mackenzie observed. Back when their relationship was across the table in the psych ward, Mackenzie noticed that Piper’s eyes were different colors. Once they had both worked up the courage to make eye contact with one another, that is. Heterochromia. She’d memorized the word. Piper had one green eye and one brown; though the obscene girl joked that she had a second ‘brown eye,’ before displaying her anus and farting loudly. The hospital workers didn’t approve of the display at the time, but it made Mackenzie giggle, and that was all that mattered to Piper.

Mackenzie felt the dairy-based confection stimulating her mucus production, so she gently took the container from Piper, used a finger to block off one of her nostrils, and with a firm exhalation, shot a large wad of clearish-yellow slime from her nose onto the top of the ice-cream. She took the spoon, and scooped a large measure of the desert, topped with her snot, and popped it casually into Piper’s mouth.

She swallowed with a tight-lipped grin. “That was perfect!” Piper whispered intensely. “I know the whole point is to kinda ignore it, but seriously, that was exactly the way it is in my fantasies. I’m fucking it up now. I’m gonna go back to pretending it’s not a big deal. Do you want to watch something on tv?”

Mackenzie giggled, “Sure!”

She took the remote from the nightstand and turned on the television that sat on top of the dresser. She placed the remote back and picked up a small laptop. It was the only piece of computer equipment in the room outside the large shrine of high-end electronics that had been portioned off by a set of plastic shower-curtains in the corner to the right of the bed. She’d gotten to know Piper well enough to know that when she wasn’t talking about sex and filth, she was talking about computers. That or Alan Turing, whom she idolized and about whom she seemed to know an extraordinary amount.

“Do you want to watch scat porn or anything, or should we just put on something normal?”

“Let’s go with something funny we can just have on in the background while we hang out.” Mackenzie replied.

Piper used the laptop interface to put on a late 2000’s comedy show that they half-watched as they finished the vanilla bean and punk-girl-asshole flavored desert. About ten minutes later, the two naked girls were watching tv and spooning when they heard a grumbling bit of commotion coming from Mackenzie’s gut. Piper, who was being the big spoon at the time, moved her hand down to her tummy and rubbed lovingly.

The red haired girl emitted a whining moan of discomfort. The ice-cream really was making her bowels cramp up. This would be about the time she’d normally go and spend the next half-hour sitting on the toilet, but she felt a certain sense of freedom knowing that her digestive troubles wouldn’t have to interrupt the sleepover. Nor would she have to worry about her legs falling asleep from sitting on the toilet for too long. She managed to let out a small, barely audible bit of gas that did nothing to relieve the pressure, but she could feel her guts churning. There was definitely more coming any minute. Piper could tell, too, as she pulled closer. She pressed the front of her naked hips into Mackenzie’s ass. Her legs were fidgeting a bit, as though she was turned on, which she most likely was. About a minute later she felt a pressure inside her colon. It felt a bit like the fart, but she could tell it was more substantial this time. She let loose with wanton abandon and there was a bit of wet sputtering that was slightly muffled by the barrier of flesh formed by the two women pressed together. She could tell that a few wet chunks of shit had exploded out of her ass and hit Piper in the pussy. A moment later, the bulk of her diarrhea began to erupt. The satiny-wet sound of soft shit correlated with the hot muddy feeling that coated her buttocks and Piper’s crotch. The whole ordeal ended with a few last bits of popping flatulence. Piper responded by moaning gently and kissing her on the neck. Then they went back to watching tv and cuddling, ignoring the hot puddle of feces that was spreading across the bed beneath them.

The bowel movement relieved the discomfort, but she knew from experience that the process would repeat at least a couple more times before her digestive system would be a hundred percent again. She decided she wanted to take advantage of the opportunity. “Hey, Piper. Do you want to lick my pussy?”

“Fuck yeah I do.”

“Okay, you stay there, I’m gonna spin around.” she said. Piper’s eyes lit up. She realized what Mackenzie intended. She was going to maneuver onto the top of a sixty-nine position so that she could shit directly onto Piper’s face as she ate her out. She considered that this might be the first time Piper actually got to experience that. Mackenzie herself got to have the experience of a pretty girl shitting on her face at school a few weeks before, and while she lamented the time Piper had spent institutionalized because of it, she had to admit that it was an exhilaratingly decadent experience.

Mackenzie found herself thinking how unexpected it was that she seemed to be falling a bit into the dominant role with Piper; even more unexpected was the fact that the virginal seeming Christian girl was actually more experienced when it came to lesbian sex.

She felt Piper’s tongue immediately attack her pussy the moment she was in position. There were still some brown streaks caking her ass, but her auburn-haired crotch was still mostly clean. Piper’s cunt, Mackenzie noted as she looked down on it, was a different story. It was still dripping with her excrement. The liquid butt-mud having collected so heavily between her legs that her hairless little slit wasn’t even visible. She wasn’t quite ready to wade through her own filth in order to please Piper orally, and she was becoming distracted by another round of slightly painful clenching in her bowels. She tried to watch tv as Piper’s tongue invaded her cunt, nose pressed firmly against her shitty and soon to be explosive asshole.

Piper was eager, but not yet skillful with regards to cunnilingus. Mackenzie enjoyed the sensation, but the stench of her own filth a few inches beneath was starting to get to be a bit much. She knew she wanted to eventually be like Piper, to be able to chomp down turds like they were hot-dogs at a competitive eating contest, but she’d have a ways to go.

She felt another wet bowel movement pushing to escape her butt, and she did nothing to hold it back. The sensation like hot, chunky water squirting out of her ass preceded the feeling of a more normal brown log escaping from her body. She could tell the first round of chunky liquid shot straight up Piper’s eager nose, but based on the continued eagerness of her tongue, she didn’t seem to mind.

She thought she was finished when a sudden round of nausea hit her. Maybe it was the smell, maybe it was the sight of cooling poop caking Piper’s crotch, or maybe it was the realization that the girl going down on her has a nose-full of her turd-juice, but she found herself gagging.

The contents of her stomach shot up and poured out of her mouth. In an instant the cold shit in Piper’s lap had been replaced with hot puke. The heaving of her stomach stimulated her guts enough that she unleashed another round of partially digested liquid brown with particular force against Piper’s face. She was projectile squirting simultaneously from both ends. Somewhere in all the bodily commotion she half-noticed that she was pissing as well. There were multiple rounds in which her core clenched and filth rocketed out of three orifices at once. In the end, she was spitting out the last bits of phlegm and gastric juice while pathetic little farts signaled the last of her digestive issues. She closed one nostril with her fingers and blew bits of snot-mixed-with-vomit out the other, then repeated the process on the opposite side.

Piper sounded to be doing the exact opposite. She heard the girl behind her sniffing, as though she was trying to snort the scat that filled her nose down the back of her throat to swallow it. She felt the slender girls hands come up reassuringly to her ribs. It seemed like her hands were shaking a bit. “You’re okay, right?” Piper asked, her voice quivering.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She replied a bit unsteadily. The ordeal had been a bit trying for her physically, and she was mentally a bit overwhelmed.

Based on Piper’s voice, she was overwhelmed too. “Okay!” Piper’s voice was high pitched, her excitement easily could have been mistaken for panic. “That was amazing. Kenzie, that was fucking amazing! You’re a… you’re a motherfucking, incredible-ass, rug-munching, ginger-snatch cunt! You know that? I mean holy cock-sucking, pants-shitting fucking shit!!! Jesus fuck-tits! You’re a goddamn fucking goddess!”

Mackenzie burst out in hysterical laughter and fell over into the slurry of bodily goo that pooled across the bed and was now dripping onto the floor. She hoped Piper wouldn’t be offended, but the frantic string of obscene language just struck her as incredibly funny. When Piper was excited, she was somehow, incredibly, even more of a potty-mouth!

Piper laughed with her for a moment before having a coughing fit. Mackenzie looked back to see the green-haired girl’s face dripping with brown. It seemed that her laughter had caused her to inadvertently inhale a bit of poo, an idea that elicited another round of screaming laughter from Mackenzie.

The clenching feeling in the bottom of her throat still hadn’t totally subsided. Her stomach and head still ached a bit from projectile retching the contents of her stomach all over Piper’s crotch and bed. And as sexy as her mind found the whole situation, her body’s instinctive aversion would take some time to convince. She’d fantasized about doing things like this for years, and while internet porn had prepared her for the sights and sounds, the magnitude of the smell was a bit much for her to take in. The stench of both fresh and stale diarrhea combined with the acidic odor of vomit imposed upon her nose and eyes. She could even taste it in the air.

“Hey, Piper? This is all really sexy, and I’m for sure going to think about this when I masturbate like… forever. But… I mean, I hate to ask, but could we… clean up maybe… ninety percent of this? I mean, I want to get to the point where I can handle-”

“Hey, it’s no big deal!” Piper interjected while wiping some bits of brown goo from around her eyes, “I guess I kinda threw you in the deep end, huh? I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d get that sick. I mean, it was fucking amazing as a motherfucker, but I don’t want you to feel bad.” She took a moment to formulate a plan for how to proceed. “So tell me what you think of this sequence: You go start taking a shower in my bathroom while I scoop the bulk of the shit and piss and puke into containers, ‘cus I mean, I really wanna save it for later. Then I’ll hop in the shower with you for a minute to clean myself off. Then I’ll grab the wet-vac and clean the rest while you take a bath. I actually have scented oils that’ll make you smell like flowers afterward. Then when you’re done, there’ll just be some residue on the sheets that’s still gonna smell a bit, and parts of the bed are still gonna be kinda sticky, but it won’t be nearly this strong. It’ll just smell kinda like bad farts.”

Mackenzie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow, that sounds… really efficient. You have scented bath oil???”

“Well yeah, I mean, it’s cool to smell like shit sometimes, but most people like girls to be clean and smell nice. And there are some dudes I hang out with and play video-games with. I mean, I know they mostly hang out with me ‘cus I let them buttfuck me, but I dunno, maybe part of me wants to be a pretty girl; like you. Or maybe I just like smelling like coconuts and lilac in the morning, and cheese-farts and asparagus-piss at night.” Piper’s eyebrows knitted together in sudden contemplation. “Huh, you know what? I think I just realized that I like all smells. Fuck, I never thought about that before.” She contemplated a moment longer before realizing that Mackenzie was still slowly edging her way to the bathroom on the left side of the room from the bed. “Oh yeah, you go take a shower, and I’ll be there in a minute.”

Mackenzie followed Piper’s suggestion. She noted that the bathroom had a rather normal assortment of shampoos, conditioners, lotions, oils and the like. If anything, Piper’s collection of hygiene products would be enviable to the average girl. It was actually a comfort that Mackenzie hadn’t realized she needed. She had always been fastidious about cleanliness; both of her body and her environment. She didn’t need a psychologist to tell her that the origins of her fascination with filth lie in her almost obsessive-compulsive tidiness.

Deep down, there had been a spark of worry that despite their common fetish, actually building a life with Piper may have been implausible. But those worries had been laid to rest. Piper’s home was crisp and clean. Her bedroom had a bit of clutter around the computer station, but was otherwise neatly organized and tidy. As she peaked out of the shower to see the shit-caked girl using a small squeegee she apparently had stashed somewhere to scrape the slurry of filth neatly into a tupperware container, she realized that they could have a future. At that moment she knew; this was the girl she was going to marry.

***

Almost forty-five minutes later, Mackenzie came out of the bathroom smelling like roses. The naked and still slightly moist Piper stood eagerly. “I left some residue on the sheets, but if you decide you want everything to be a hundred percent clean, I can change those and put them in the washing machine.”

“It’s okay.” Mackenzie replied with a lovey smile. “It smells sexy in here.” She took deep breath and let out a contented sigh. “I feel better now. Throwing up makes you feel bad. Even though it’s hot.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I should have planned for this better.” Piper gave a contrite smile. “Sorry if I was being kinda selfish by making you eat ice cream so you could fart and shit on me.”

“Piper. Stop apologizing.” Mackenzie was almost surprised to hear such a commanding tone come out of her own mouth.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I- Shit! Sorry. Fuck!” Her contrite smile disappeared and was replaced by genuine anxiety.

Mackenzie felt a little sorry for her. She had always hidden her own kink. So as shy as she was, she still made the occasional friend or acquaintance. But Piper’s in-your-face filth obsession must have made her feel alienated from the rest of the world. As best she could tell, her only friends were men who mostly used her for sex. It was no wonder she seemed a bit desperate to please.

“Okay, take a breath.” Mackenzie stepped forward and held Piper’s pixie-like face in her hands, peering into her green and brown eyes. “From now on, whenever you want to say you’re sorry, just tell me you love me instead. Say ‘I love that you accept me for who I am. I love that you forgive me for my mistakes. I love that you want to be with me no matter what.’ Because I do. And I will. You’re… amazing, Piper. And I’m absolutely, positively in love with you.”

Piper stood blank-faced for a moment. “I… I love you too, Kenzie.”

“Come on. Let’s go to bed. It’s getting late, and I think that’s a nice thought to fall asleep to.”

The two of them crawled beneath the feces and vomit smeared sheets, kissed one another gently, and drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms....

Mackenzie woke up first the next morning. She laid in bed staring at Piper through the mess of green hair that tangled over her face. She watched as her eyes lazily drifted open and turned to meet hers. She yawned and smiled before speaking groggily, “I’ve got to take a monster dump right now.”

Mackenzie giggled and kissed her. “Good morning to you, too!”

Piper slipped out from under the rubbery covers and stood naked, wreathed in the small bit of morning light that peaked through the curtains above the bed. “I’m thirsty, are you thirsty?”

“Mhm. I actually feel a little dehydrated. I probably should have drank something after I threw up last night.”

“Oh fuck, I should have offered you something, I’m sor- I mean… uhh… I love that you put up with the fact that I don’t know how to have guests.” She grinned a bit, proud of herself for remembering Mackenzie’s insistence that she express love rather than regret.

Piper opened the clear shower-curtain to enter the tech corner of the room, the mess of cables and wires running between custom made computers and monitors and various other pieces of plastic and circuitry that Mackenzie couldn’t begin to decipher. She opened a small mini-fridge positioned in the underside of the desk and pulled out one clear bottle and one red one. “I’ve got water and Mountain Dew Code Red.”

“Oh, just the water is fine.”

Piper returned to the bed and handed Mackenzie the clear bottle. She opened the red one herself and took a swig. The scent of artificial cherry flavor briefly overwhelmed the aroma of ass that lingered on the bed and on Piper’s skin. Mackenzie cracked the water and drank a third of it in a few large swallows.

She contemplated for a moment, “Hey, have these been in your ass?”

“Nah, I just do that with stuff I eat. I leave drinks alone. I thought about making it so that everything I eat is something I shat out and everything I drink is something I pissed, but I’m not about to give myself a catheter every day to squirt coffee and soda and juice into my bladder. I tried it once and it kinda hurts, like... kinda a lot. I still drink piss, though. Wanna see?”

Mackenzie groaned adorably and hit Piper gently with a pillow, “How are you this chipper this early in the morning? And also, yes, of course I wanna watch you drink piss.”

Piper laughed as she went to the dresser to retrieve a large green cup from one of the upper drawers. Mackenzie was slowly figuring out that a dish or food being labeled green seemed to indicate it was for Piper only. She watched, as the skinny, naked girl turned her knees out and squatted slightly. A pale yellow liquid poured from between her labia and filled the cup about two thirds of the way. She returned to bed next to Mackenzie and sipped the cup of urine while making casual eye contact with her bed-mate. “Wanna try some?”

Mackenzie nodded. Piper handed her the cup, “Just take a little sip.” she cautioned, “I don’t wanna go overboard again. We have time to help you get used to all this kinda shit.”

She took the cup and smelled it. A relatively normal scent of salty urea. She took a small sip and found it tasted similarly. The acrid taste made her face scrunch a bit. She followed up the sip of Piper’s pee by taking a few delicate swallows from the bottle of clean water. “Thanks for going slow with me, Piper.”

“No problem, babe. Hey, hand me that empty ice-cream container, I’m gonna take a huge dump in it while you watch, okay?”

She handed Piper the container and turned on the bedside lamp to get a better look as Piper turned around and knelt down with her chest pressed onto the top of the bed. She held the container in one hand between her legs; obscenely spread ass proudly displaying her cute, puckered anus. She watched as the muscles in the girl’s lithe abdomen writhed and her shitter opened up. A large, solid log of brown excrement pushed its way out of Piper’s asshole and broke off to plop into the empty container. A slightly softer brown cylinder emerged and kept emerging; it curved down, beginning to coil as it hit the bottom of the container. She realized that Piper’s practiced skill was being utilized to fill the container the same way an ice-cream man would fill a cone with soft-serve. Despite her small size, she managed to fill the container almost all the way to the top with a perfectly tipped swirl.

“Impressive!” Mackenzie remarked.

“I watched some YouTube videos of the techniques people use for soft-serve. It took some practice to get it right at this angle, but I can usually make a pretty nice-looking shit-cup.” She explained as she wiped her ass with her fingers and licked them clean.

Piper grabbed the spoon and sat in bed next to Mackenzie. She began casually eating her own shit from the used ice-cream container as if it actually was soft-serve, occasionally washing it down with a swig from the bottle of red soda.

“Can I try?” Mackenzie asked, stopping Piper in her tracks.

“Are you sure? Just so you know, this thing doesn’t need to be a two way street. If you want to just dump out turds in my mouth every day, and never put your mouth anywhere near me, I’d be a hundred-percent cool with that.”

“I wouldn’t be. I like kissing you. And I don’t feel like you’re pressuring me. I’ve fantasized about eating your shit since the first day we met. I guess I kinda did at the assembly, but mostly I just threw up. I didn’t really get a chance to take my time.”

“Yeah, I… love you for being the kinda girl that enjoyed that crazy-ass prank. Okay, I don’t want you to get sick again, so just have a little.” Piper collected a small spoonful of her own crap and held it out toward Mackenzie.

“I love you, too.” she said before she suddenly took the small scoop of feces into her mouth. She pulled back and felt the slightly warm brown sludge on her tongue. The taste was bitter and earthy; like fermented soil and coffee grounds. With a substantial stretch of the imagination, she could almost convince herself that the turd tasted like unsweetened dark chocolate. She mushed it against the roof of her mouth with her tongue and swallowed. She gagged briefly, but quickly washed most of the taste out of her mouth by downing the rest of her water bottle.

Piper watched with anticipation. Mackenzie took a few deep breaths to make sure that she wasn’t going to throw up, then smiled at Piper. Piper looked excited and hugged her. “I’m so proud of you! Just so you know, that shit was mostly made out of your shit from last night, so you’re kinda gettin’ double shit flavor there. But now that I know for sure you want to do that, I’ll try to do stuff to make it taste better when you come over. Oh! And you should take the antibiotics my mom got for you so that you don’t get sick from that.” She produced the small prescription bottle from a drawer in the nightstand before going back to her mini-fridge to bring another water bottle.

“Thanks,” she said as she downed the first dose of medication. “Hey, Piper? Can I… make a request? It’s okay if you say no, but it’d mean a lot to-”

“I’ll do anything for you, Mackenzie.” The adoration was clear in her voice.

“If I’m going to be… ya know, eating your poop, is there any chance you could… stop eating meat?”

Piper’s cheeks widened into a big, toothy grin. “I already stopped. I knew there was a chance you’d want to do that, and I know you don’t eat meat. I’m not going to have you eat second-hand meat out of my butt.”

The two of them spent most of the rest of the day in bed watching tv. It seemed that the little laptop on the nightstand could set anything she could imagine to play on the screen. Mackenzie wasn’t sure if the Lindeholm household just happened to have a subscription to almost every streaming service, of if Piper was pirating them. She decided that she didn’t particularly care about the answer. She did care about the fact that they seemed to have more in common than she would have thought. They both liked Star Trek, and spent a good portion of the day revisiting favorite episodes. Their taste in comedy shows was similar; and Mackenzie found herself genuinely enjoying being a cheerleader for Piper as she played video games. Mackenzie was more into horror movies than Piper, who got scared easily, but claimed she could tolerate them as long as she could bury her face between Mackenzie’s boobs during the scary parts.

Toward the end of the day, the two of them worked together to clean the last of the filth from the room as Mackenzie prepared to depart that evening. She wished that she could stay forever, but a part of her also wanted to get home to Saturday-evening dinner with her family, where she could tell them a heavily censored version of her adventures with her new girlfriend. Plus, she enjoyed the weekly family ritual of Sunday morning breakfast, followed by church.

She was saying her last goodbyes and thank-yous to Piper and her mother, when Piper blurted out a question randomly.

“Hey, should I shave my head again by Monday? Like, do you want to see my tattoos at school?”

Piper’s hairstyle had been a bit neglected during the few weeks in the mental hospital. The formerly bare sides of her head that read “Potty Mouth” and “Ass 2 Mouth 4 Life” were now mostly obscured by a dense stubble of golden-blonde hair.

Miss Lindeholm stood behind Piper, making intensely wide eye-contact with Mackenzie and pleadingly shaking her head in tense little gestures.  

“Well… I think your hair is really pretty, and, I dunno, maybe the tattoos can be just something that you and me know about.”

Piper’s mother made a silent sigh of relief and mouthed ‘thank you’ at Mackenzie.

“Okay,” she began, rubbing the side of her head, “I guess I can grow it out for now. Least I can do is try to look pretty for you.”

Mackenzie didn’t fully understand the comment until they passed each other in the hall Monday at school. Piper kept her eyes downcast, only raising them briefly to flash a subtle knowing smile at Mackenzie before proceeding on her way as if they were strangers.

Mackenzie wheeled around to catch up and glomped Piper with a big hug from behind. “Hey, pretty girl! You aren’t even going to say hi to me?”

Piper looked panicked, she spoke in a rapid whisper, “Kenzie! You can’t hang around me at school! People are gonna… see you! With me!”

A flash of anger stirred in Mackenzie’s heart. Not directed at Piper, but at the society that made her feel that she needed to protect Mackenzie from mockery by pretending to be strangers.

Her face turned stern. “Piper! I don’t care what anyone thinks.” She began to speak a bit more loudly in the crowded hall to make her point, “You’re my girlfriend and we’re in love. I feel sorry for anyone who thinks they need to make fun of someone because of who they choose to spend their life with.”

Piper continued to fret for a while, but eventually acquiesced; she still seemed a little nervous. They spent a lot of time together in school, but Piper always preferred to spend it away from other students who may be compelled to comment on Mackenzie’s choice of partner. In fact, most of the time, the two of them spent their lunch period in the out-of-the-way bathroom where they’d first met. They occasionally did unspeakably filthy things when they could be sure they would have privacy in a stall, but mostly, they just held hands and talked about their lives.

Mackenzie’s parents eventually had Piper and her mother over to their home for dinner; something that both girls stressed about on account of Piper’s inadvertent compulsion to be vulgar. Piper’s mother seemed uncharacteristically cavalier about the whole thing, as though she had a secret plan to ensure the evening went well. Which, as it turns out, she did! Almost as soon as the two of them walked in the door, Miss Lindeholm dominated the conversation by praising them for the way they reconciled their Christian faith with their daughter’s homosexuality, which she segued into offhandedly mentioning a project that Piper had done a few years before about her personal hero and gay icon, Alan Turing. That had apparently set things in motion, as Piper spent the rest of the evening excitedly lecturing everyone present about the life and legacy of the father of modern computer science, along with far too many details about computer science itself. Mackenzie’s family was too polite to stop her multi-hour soliloquy, but left the evening believing that their daughter’s new sweetheart was an exceptionally bright and spirited young lady whose odd behavior at the school assembly had been an isolated incident.

A few weeks later, Piper had grown more comfortable spending time with Mackenzie in the more public areas of the school. At one point a large boy from the football team had approached them, mockingly inviting Piper and Mackenzie to a party they were throwing… as the toilets. Piper initially accepted the invitation happily, not realizing the boy was making fun of them. When Mackenzie explained, she seemed disappointed. She didn’t become angry until the boy continued piling on, and when he called Mackenzie a ‘retard’ she attacked him. The ninety-six pound girl was about as effective as one would expect against the two-hundred-forty pound linebacker; the fight ended about two seconds after it began with Piper lying in the dirt with a split lip. Despite being the one bleeding, she still seemed much more worried about Mackenzie.

The boy was suspended for a week, a penalty that Piper’s mother thought was insultingly low. Though it seemed karma was on their side, as the boy was arrested soon after when hundreds of gigabytes of brutal pornography featuring a ten-year-old girl named Darla was found on his personal computer. Mackenzie had a sneaking suspicion that Piper was responsible, but being as she wasn’t sure she wanted to know just how far Piper would go to defend her, she never asked.

A few weeks before graduation, Mackenzie proposed in the bathroom where they’d first met. It was the first time she’d ever seen Piper cry.

That summer, the two of them found an apartment and moved in together near the university that Piper would be attending in the Fall. Mackenzie decided that she wanted to take some time off and figure out what she wanted to do with her life. The two of them often joked that Mackenzie was preparing for a life as Piper’s trophy wife.

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series. Content warning: subtext of tragic loss)

Part 2 coming very soon!

          --------------------------------------------------------

She woke up in a daze. How long had it been since she’d been in control of her own mind? The trance was lasting longer each time, how long until it’d be permanent? The thought of being… her… forever made her heart race with fear. But it was also something she found incredibly erotic.

She never would have started dating Mark if the thought of mind control wasn’t so incredibly arousing to her. It started with minor things, she’d find she wasn’t wearing underwear in the middle of the day despite clearly remembering putting it on in the morning. She wasn’t sure if the memory was false or if she’d removed them at some point in the day while in a hypnotic trance. She kept pushing for more, the idea of giving up control over her most valuable asset, her conscious mind, thrilled her more than anything else could.

In her youth, her parents had always pushed her to work hard and be smart, but it was never enough. Even when she graduated high school as Valedictorian at age 17, all they wanted to know was what she planned for college. At age 24, she graduated with a doctorate in neurology. She began dating Mark after she’d interviewed while she’d been completing her thesis on the effect of external stimuli on the long-term functioning of the mind. He was a hypnotist who claimed that with enough time, he could turn a person into someone completely different. They often debated, with her claiming that what he said was impossible. No matter what, she argued, there would always be certain core personality traits that would be innate, either because they developed in the formative years or because they were genetically determined.

She began submitting to things she thought of as “experiments” with him. The first few times she felt the influence of his “mind control” she was fascinated. To be able to experience something like this first hand! It was invigorating as a researcher. At least that’s what she told herself in the beginning.

Over time, she became more and more addicted to the idea of leaving her mind in the hands of another. He went from being her boyfriend to becoming her Master. And their “experiments” had taken on a more intense and erotic tone as well. He created this other persona that he could snap her into any time he wished. It was so liberating, the other her was so… happy, carefree. It was as if she could have a respite from the cacophony of thoughts and considerations she grew up being taught was expected of her as an intellectual. She was never happier than when she was with him; and despite knowing every neurochemical reaction that came with being in love, a part of her felt like she’d found her soul-mate.

Eventually they went on a trip together to an isolated cabin, someplace they could do some of the more daring things they’d been wanting to try without fear of her being embarrassed by interactions with other people.

She remembered they did something… daring. Foolish, even. She couldn’t remember exactly what it was at the moment. She flexed a cognitive power that felt like it hadn’t been flexed in quite some time and tried to remember. There was a distinct recollection that her Master was the only one that could release her from the trance once it was activated. But there was something else… something even more reckless she’d asked him to do, to program into her ever-more-pliable mind. What was it?

Her heart sank as she remembered how the trip ended. Her Master had been taking a walk outside the cabin and had slipped on some of the autumn leaves, breaking his skull on a sharp branch jutting from a tree-trunk. She reasoned that the trauma must be why she was having trouble remembering. A sickening hollowness began to form within her the more she thought about him. Her mind instinctively reviewed all the neurological changes that could occur in response to the loss of a loved one. Yet the memory felt distant, like enough time had passed that she shouldn’t feel as bad as she did. She just couldn’t remember what had happened in the interim.

She looked around the room and found that it seemed foreign to her. The layout was definitely her and her late Master’s house, but the decor looked more like it had been done by a middle-school cheerleader, and a slutty one at that, judging by the small, brightly colored clothing strewn haphazardly about.

She took a step out of bed and was immediately floored by a lightning bolt of pain that shot up her Achilles tendon the moment she tried to stand up.

“AAAHH!!!” The pain turned to a slow throb after several seconds, and she tried to examine her feet. She determined that her range of plantar flexion, pointing her toes, was a bit greater than it had been before. But dorsiflexion was severely limited, she couldn’t bring her foot flat enough to take a step. It was as if her Achilles tendon had shortened somehow, as if she’d been wearing high-heels every waking moment for… months? Longer? She couldn’t be sure.

She noticed a pair of hot-pink heels near where she fell and naturally assumed that they were there for the purpose of allowing her to walk. She strapped herself into them and climbed to her feet. The throbbing in her heel had mostly diminished, and she found herself to have an inexplicable ease when she tried to ambulate in the four-inch heels. She rushed to the bathroom mirror; she had to see herself, as much as the thought terrified her.

When she saw her reflection, it took her a moment to believe that she wasn’t looking at an obscene poster of some comic-book bimbo that had been rendered to look realistic.

Her short brown hair had been dyed blonde, and tied up in loose pigtails that hung from the top of her head down her back. By her estimation, her hair terminated just above the sacroiliac joint just superior of her tailbone. She frantically brushed her fingers through the long, platinum locks. Surely these are hair extensions. She couldn’t possibly have lost that much time in her trance-state. This was over a year of growth. Way over.

And her breasts! They didn’t even really look like hers anymore. She’d gotten implants soon after she began dating her Master, as he had a thing for the bimbo look. She figured she could go up to just barely a DD and still seem like a respected professional so long as she didn’t dress to show them off. But it looked like they’d been enlarged at least twice since then. She couldn’t even guess at their current size

32J.

It had just popped into her head, but deep down there was a sense that it was a point of pride for her. The other her. Her lips appeared inflated as well, to a size that would be considered a good bit more than just pillowy.

After the shock wore off, she had to admit, she liked the way she looked. Mark would have loved to see her looking like this. It seemed she’d overcome her habit of stress-eating, and found the time to go to the gym. At least based on the fit, lightly tanned body that appeared to serve mostly as a transportation system for her firm, basketball sized tits.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to determine if this was all a dream or some kind of delusion. She’d tranced out before since her Master’s death, but never for more than a few days. And for the life of her, she couldn’t recall what triggered it. Needless to say, she’d never stayed in her trance state for this long.

Another memory suddenly popped into her head from that terrible night. Something she’d asked for to ensure that they keep pushing things further and further. He had programmed her so that every subsequent trance had to last longer than the previous one.

Shit!!! She thought frantically, They were supposed to be longer by hours, maybe a day or two at most! This wasn’t supposed to last for months. Not… years.

She’d only pushed him to do those things because she knew in the back of her mind that they’d be temporary. He was responsible, and if things got out of hand, he could undo the programming. Unfortunately, that was no longer an option. She still got a sense that there was something else she was missing. Something big. The trigger! That’s it, she’d just have to avoid the trigger phrase! Now what was it? She couldn’t remember! That’s okay, she would just need to avoid interacting with anything until she figured it out. Don’t go outside, don’t talk to anyone, don’t turn on the tv. You don’t want to get accidentally triggered and wake up years from now with even bigger tits.

She tried to steel her resolve when she heard a sound from the other room. An electronic beep and a tinny voice beginning to talk. The answering machine!!! Her master had been her senior by a few decades, and his house still had a landline and an old-style answering machine. She rushed out frantically to try to turn it off. The person on the line explained that they were from her old college and explained that they were calling for…

That was it… The trigger! The impossibly stupid thing they had done in the cabin that night in the woods. They made the trigger phrase… her own name.

“-University and we’re looking to contact Dr. Bailee Holcum.” She tore the machine out of the wall, but it was too late, she could feel the fog setting in. . .

***

She looked down at the broken machine on the floor with puzzlement. “Well uhh, that’s like, what you get for saying stuff that’s, like, totally boring, Mr. Answering Machine.”

So I have, at last, managed to get the Introduction to the fifth and final member of the Pervert Pentet. I’m pretty excited about that because it means the first part of this series is done. I actually wanted to write Sherry’s story earlier, but I put it off a bit after I decided that it would be written in first person from the perspective of someone who’s a much bigger anime/hentai fan than me. It’s always tricky trying to realistically write a character who knows much more than you about something. 

This is probably my most wholesome story so far, so there’s not really any content warnings needed, but as a bonus, there is a bit of a flash-forward to the point where all five of the character’s stories converge. 

________________________________

My name is Sherry Sugisaki, I’m twenty-two years old, single, blood type B, and as of today, I’m the official club historian for the Pervert Pentet!

The Pervert Pentet is a club that me and four of my best friends formed so that we could all get together and just be ourselves without other people calling us weirdos or sluts. Well, except for Piper. She calls everybody a slut, but trust me, compared to the other things that come out of her mouth, “slut” is a compliment!

Piper is kind of our leader. She’s the first girl I ever met who was an even bigger perv than me! She’s so smart it’s a little scary, and she always speaks her mind. The only problem is that her mind is always in the gutter!

Nancy is the muscle of the group. She’s the tall athletic type, and way prettier than she realizes. She can be a little intimidating, but I think deep down she has a good heart. I haven’t really gotten close to her yet, and Piper says I probably shouldn’t try to. Nancy says that she doesn’t want to hang out with me because she doesn’t like Asian people (except she said it in a way that wasn’t quite so polite), but I think maybe she just had a hard life and she’s not ready to trust people, yet. And she’s always hanging out with Teira anyway.

Speaking of Teira, she’s this rich, famous artist from Europe. Nancy went to one of her art performances a while back and Teira saw something special in her. Ever since then, Nancy has kinda been Teira’s sidekick. Teira can be a little scary too, but in a different way. While Nancy seems tough, Teira’s… well, creepy. She never smiles, never seems to have an opinion about anything, and she kinda has this icy-cold “I’d like to see you chopped into neat little pieces” vibe. In fact, the only time I’ve ever seen her look excited is when I introduced her to guro porn.

Bailee is the last girl who joined our club. She’s usually kinda dumb, exept sometimes she’s not? We’re all still trying to figure out exactly what her deal is. She’s sooo much fun to hang out with, though! And she’s actually into cute things, like me! As much as I love Piper, some of the things she’s into gross me out. But with Bailee, we can talk about cute boys, and go clothes shopping! Plus, she looks like the big-boobed girls in hentai, but in real life!

But you’ll get to know them later. They say to write what you know about, so I guess I’ll start by telling you about myself!

I grew up in the U.S. but my father is from Japan. My mom is from here, but ethnically, she’s half European and half Brazilian, which I think is why I have a bigger butt than most Japanese girls. My dad was the typical Asian father, which means that he worked all the time to provide for me and my mom, but I never really got to spend much time with him. I guess that’s why I started getting into Japanese culture at a young age. I was into all the normal stuff like Pokemon and Sailor Moon and Hello Kitty, so it was really exciting when I was little and my mom got me a subscription to this really cool anime streaming service!

But even though my mom really liked Japanese history and culture, I don’t think she realized just quite how naughty some parts of it can be. While other pre-teen girls dreamed of a storybook romance with a handsome man who buys them pretty dresses and mansions, I thought up pranks to play on my romantic rivals when we were all crowded into a little house along with our collective boyfriend! When I finally learned what other little girls fantasized about, it just seemed so boring! And lonely, too. I mean, sure, being in a harem seems like it might get a little crazy sometimes, but it’s also exciting. And besides, when things get really tough the girls always put their differences aside to solve problems as a family!

I guess watching all those shows gave me a sense of humor that wasn’t exactly “politically correct.” But honestly, it’s funny when busty girls get their boobs yanked out, or when lecherous milf-types molest shy, blushing lolis. Oh! And when bad-ass fighter girls get their clothes all ripped up during a battle and they suddenly realize that everybody can see that they’re not wearing panties and then they’re all like “Eep! Don’t look!!” That’s the best!

Okay, okay, maaaaaaybe it’s not just that I think it’s funny. Maybe it turns me on a little bit, too. But can you blame me? I mean, when you see a pretty girl on the street, don’t you just want to pull her dress up or yank her boobs out?? Of course you do! Everybody does, they just don’t talk about it. The only difference is that in my case I actually do it!

I’m getting ahead of myself again. I should back up. So when I was in middle school, my parents let me get a smart phone with internet access. And let me tell you, if you think anime is naughty, you haven’t seen hentai! I mean, there’s stuff that’s even too dirty for me! But eventually I came across one kind of video that made me obsessed. And for once, it wasn’t animated at all.

The first time I saw it, I was confused. It just seemed like a guy with a camera-phone following this cute girl in a skirt. But then this guy came out of nowhere and pulled up her skirt and yanked down her panties! She made this cute little “Eeeee!” noise while the guy ran off. It was so cute, and so funny, and so super hot! I figured that video had to be one of a kind, but boy was I wrong!

Apparently it’s called “sharking.” I never quite found a satisfactory explanation for the name, but it started in Japan (just like all the best pervy stuff!), and the idea is to run up to a girl and expose her while somebody else films and puts it online for everyone to enjoy! There’s all kinds of varieties. Top-sharking works best when you find a girl in a tube-top and you can pull her boobs out. Bottom-sharking works best for girls in a short skirt; and if you’re really lucky, you might find a girl who isn’t wearing panties! There’s even cosplay-sharking! That’s when you steal all of a girl’s clothes and run off with them, but you leave her a super cute, slutty outfit that she has to wear if she doesn’t want to walk home naked. Personally, just regular full-sharking is my favorite. That’s when you strip a girl naked and run off with her clothes while the camera guy follows her while she figures out what to do. It’s so exciting! I mean, at first the girl thinks it’s just going to be a regular boring old day, but then she gets to be part of this awesome sexy adventure where she’s naked in public! And nobody can even get upset at her because it’s not even her fault! Everybody wins!

I should know, I’m proud to say that I’m one of the few girls who’s been on both sides. You see, after I graduated high school, I got my parents to finally agree to pay for me to take a year off to visit Japan! It was everything I ever dreamed! I was surrounded by signs displaying happy anime characters, I got to ride public transit with groups of cute, giggly school girls and handsome, studious schoolboys. There were night-clubs with lolita-goths and J-pop was playing everywhere!

The only thing that could have made it better was if I could have had a romantic encounter with a cute boy. I think everyone who visits a foreign country kinda wishes that they could have a special lover to think back on fondly when they’re old and grey. Unfortunately, no matter how many blind corners I hurried around, I never accidentally collided with my true love. Not even when I had toast in my mouth!

I figured maybe I still dressed too much like a kid, and boys were scared that I was under-aged. So I decided to show off my assets! While I was far from flat-chested in America, in Japan my full C-cup breasts made me downright busty. And the Brazilian butt I inherited from mom put me way ahead of at least ninety percent of the other girls in Japan. So I got some new button up shirts that were small enough to hug my curves, and I left a few buttons undone. I also bought new mini-skirts short enough to ensure my panties would be visible with even the slightest breeze. Everybody in Japan is really into panties.

Unfortunately, most of the male attention I got from the new wardrobe was from middle-aged men who took advantage of crowded trains to touch my butt. But I wasn’t about to get discouraged! I mean, it’s not ideal, but if I’m getting attention, than I must be on the right track!

And then one day it happened! I was in a public park a short walk from where I was staying. I had my headphones on, listening to my Japanese language-learning app when this guy came out of nowhere and yanked my little school-girl skirt up to my waist and then pulled my white panties down to my knees!

I always thought that if I ever got sharked myself, that I’d do something really sexy, like wink or do a little pose or something. But honestly, the whole thing happened really fast so I hardly had a chance to react. And I didn’t even see where the camera guy was. I was just sort of… frozen. I just stood there with my panties halfway down my legs as the guy in the hoodie ran off.

A part of me thought that I wished I’d been more prepared for it, but on the other hand, that’s part of the fun! Unlike most Japanese girls, I keep everything totally shaved down there, so they definitely got a shot of my naked pussy. And there were going to put it online! How exciting is that! Once I pulled my panties back up they immediately got soaked. I felt like I’d just won the best prize ever! Now any-time somebody is looking at sharking videos on the internet, there would be a chance that they’d get to see me! I just hoped that the camera guy was good enough that I’d be popular.

I spent the next week looking at sharking videos more than I ever had before, but sadly, I still couldn’t find mine! I knew it would take time, but I just couldn’t wait. Part of me hoped that it’d go viral. Maybe it’d become the most popular sharking video of all time, and I’d get to be the poster-girl for the whole fetish! I’d be so famous that when people saw me in the street they’d yank up my dress and take pictures of my exposed body while I pretended to blush. I mean, I knew it wasn’t likely, but a girl can dream!

After a week of looking at every sharking related site I could I eventually came across this post written in Japanese that looked like it was a local casting call for a girl to be in a video! They must have been a really bad writer, because I could hardly understand it and my Japanese is perfect! I mean, I watched One Punch Man without subtitles and totally understood every word…. well most of them… I mean, at least half…

…

Let’s get one thing straight! I’m a Japanese girl so I obviously speak Japanese! They must have been speaking a weird dialect and that’s why I didn’t understand them that well, okay?!?

Anyway, the post said they wanted a girl to be in a sharking video, and I knew I wanted to be that girl. In all the videos I saw, it was always boys running up and exposing unsuspecting women. I’ve never seen girl-on-girl sharking! What a concept!

After a few messages back and forth, I ended up meeting them at this cute cafe by the beach. That’s when I got really excited! Bikini sharking is one of the best ways to get a girl totally naked in public! I’ve even seen it done where a guy gets two girls tops and bottoms off at once!

I didn’t catch the camera guy’s name, but the one who did most of the talking was named Kaito. I started asking them if there were any special techniques I should know so I could undo a girl’s bikini faster, but they seemed confused. I don’t know how, but there must have been a miscommunication. It seemed like they wanted to me to go somewhere private and stage a fake sharking. They said they were going to make sure to do it where no one would see me and they’d give me my clothes back at the end!

What a cheap trick! I told them that there’s no way. Either they have to shark me for real or I was going home!

I was pretty mad, so I laid out my terms and made sure they knew that there would be no negotiation! One: They had to strip me completely naked! Boobs, ass, pussy, it all had to be on display. Two: They had to do it someplace where lots of people would see. Three: sometimes in the really good sharking videos the guys would spread a girls legs or pull her butt-cheeks apart while the camera guy runs in close, that way everybody on the internet gets a good look at her vagina and butthole. I told them they had to do that, too! And four: Under no circumstances were they allowed to give me my clothes back or let me have anything to cover myself with afterwards.

If I was getting to be part of planning a sharking video, I was going to make sure it was the best one ever! There was no way I was going home unless it was completely naked!

Kaito and his friend whispered to each other for a minute, and then they asked me if I’d be willing to ditch some of my clothes in advance so that they could get me naked faster. Finally! They were saying something that made sense! And honestly, they had a point. I’m ashamed to admit that before that day I used to dress in a terribly un-sharkable way. Ever since then, the only question I ask when choosing an outfit was “How easy would it be for someone to get me naked in public?”

Anyway, I slipped away into a public bathroom to ditch my shirt, bra, and underwear. So now I was just wearing the zippered hoodie I put on when I thought I was going to get to shark a girl, and my mini-skirt. I told the guys that I was going to try to find a place off to the side of the boardwalk, far enough so that nobody could intervene, but close enough that everybody could still see my naked body.

I waited there for about five minutes, and I was starting to think they had gotten scared off, but then I saw the one with the camera sneaking up around the corner of a nearby building. I tried not to look directly at him, but I still wanted my front-side facing the camera.

My heart started racing as I heard Kaito coming up behind me! They must have been discussing technique, because he grabbed the bottom of my skirt and yanked it up until it gathered along with the hem of my hoodie. In an expertly practiced maneuver that seemed almost like a matador with a cape, he swept both garments up over my head and then down off my arms!

Suddenly, I was standing in the middle of a wide open public space in the middle of the day and I was completely naked! The sun seemed like a spotlight that shone down to reveal every private inch of my body.

Kaito tossed my hoodie and skirt and then grabbed my arms to bend me over a nearby bench. That’s when I saw the camera guy running in close while I felt his hands on my butt-cheeks. He reached down to the very bottom and spread everything open wide. The camera guy got in so close he must have been within a foot or two of my most private areas! I sure was glad that I’d shaved that morning; I mean, with the close-up he got of my pussy and asshole, everyone on the internet would have seen if I had even the tiniest bit of stubble.

I’d almost forgot! This was going on the internet! My heart was racing and I wasn’t sure if it was from fear or excitement. As scary as the whole thing was, I was still getting really wet really fast! I hoped that that camera could pick that up so that everyone would see how much girls like this kind of thing! I sort of moaned and wiggled a little bit, but then the two of them ran off. Thankfully they remembered to grab my clothes on the way, so that I wouldn’t have the option to cover myself!

I stood up to see two middle-aged ladies running up to me and yelling something at the men. I must have looked freaked out because they seemed a bit confused and frantic, like they wanted to help me but didn’t know how. Honestly, I was a little freaked out, too, but it was in a good way! Like when you ride a roller-coaster. Like, it’s really exciting and so scary that you scream but it’s also really fun! When I think back on it, I’m pretty sure I actually did scream when he first came up behind me and pulled all my clothes off.

The shorter lady had a jacked that she was unbuttoning, I realized that she was going to try to cover me up! What a prude! She must have just been jealous that a pretty young thing like me was getting to walk around naked in public and show off the goods when she was never brave enough to do anything like that!

I decided I was going to rush off down the boardwalk before she got a chance. I was still super nervous and excited. My heart felt like it was pounding in my throat and I was out of breath from the thrill of it all.

I had the temptation to cover myself with my hands, but I half-resisted. I must have looked kinda shy because I kept sort of covering my pussy, and then half-covering my boobs, and then I put both hands behind me to cover my butt. So anyone who kept looking for more than a second would have seen everything. And there were people everywhere, so even if I wanted to cover myself (which I totally didn’t), there was no way I could have.

I kinda figured that everyone would be staring at me and taking pictures and commenting on my body; I hoped that by the time I made it a hundred meters that I’d have a whole crowd of men around me, but honestly, no one said a thing! Some people glanced, and now and then someone would stare for a few seconds, but the majority of people averted their eyes and just pretended I wasn’t there!

They seemed almost… scared to look at me. This was even better than I could have imagined! I mean, at first I was a little disappointed that people weren’t excited to take in the sight of my naked, young body, but then I realized something! It wasn’t just fun and sexy to be naked in public, it also felt kinda… powerful!

Once I realized that, I stopped acting shy. I stopped trying to cover myself at all. In fact, I slowed down my stride and put on a cocky grin. By the time I reached the end of the boardwalk I was staring people right in the eye, but nobody had the guts to look back at me.

It was about a ten-minute walk back to where I was staying, but I decided I was going to make it take fifteen! There was even a spot where a dozen people were waiting for a train, and I decided to stand in front of all of them and check my phone for a good two minutes! Fortunately, I had the foresight to stick my phone, wallet, and apartment key in my sock before I had those guys steal all my clothes. I made sure to bend down in front of everybody when I took my phone out so they could have a chance to admire my naked butt.

I hoped that at least someone noticed how wet this was making me! I mean, I was starting to literally drip down the inside of my leg! I figured I’d better make my way home before my socks end up getting soaked.

When I got home I retrieved my apartment key from my sock and saw my neighbor coming home with a bag of groceries. I smiled and gave him a big wave, but he acted like he couldn’t see me. I unlocked my door and went inside.

The first thing I did was down a can of green tea, as fun as the whole walk was, my mouth was dry as a desert. As much as I enjoyed myself, it was nerve-wracking. The whole time I was sort of afraid the police were going to show up any minute, but that never happened.

All in all, the whole thing was way different than I expected. I guess that since I’m a perv, I expected that everyone else would be one, too. But everybody else was so well behaved. So I guess that makes me special!

Realizing that I was a pervert who walks around naked in public and gets off on exposing myself to strangers was the best moment of my life. It made me feel like I could do things that regular people couldn’t. Kaito sent me the video of my full-sharking the next day. Apparently, they had followed me almost all the way home without me even realizing it! They sure got some amazing shots and I’m proud to say that it has over a hundred-thousand views and counting.

I never found out the name of the guy who pulled my panties down that first day in the park. But a couple years later when I met Piper she’d tracked down the original video of me that he made. I posted a thank-you message in the comments telling him how grateful I was that he chose me, and how he changed my life for the better.

I’m definitely still working on more stories, but lately I’ve gotten a little distracted with all the possibilities of digital art. I think sharing my early attempts will help motivate me to improve so that I can actually become a fairly decent artist over the next few months.

This one is a bit more comic/cartoon styled, and the first drawing I’ve ever done purely from my imagination without a reference. I definitely need to improve proportions/anatomy, along with learning foreshortening, and I could definitely get better at faces; that being said, there are definitely some things I like about this drawing.

Anyway, here is my (still very amateur) attempt to visualize filth-fetishist Piper, flashing her pussy while getting ready to suck on a used tampon.

CONTENT WARNING: This story focuses on filth-fetishism, and will have substantial amounts of scat, piss, flatulence, snot, menstrual play, and just about every dirty thing I can think of. If that kind of thing isn’t your cup of tea, I suggest you skip this one. I have multiple stories in the works that feature completely different categories of fetishism.

(Part of the Pervert Pentet Series)

Chapter 1, part 1

Mackenzie spent the rest of the day with her mind focused on Piper. Each class she went to, she hoped to see the shit-eating girl. She kept her eyes open for the green mohawk. She had no idea what she’d say if she saw her again, she just knew that she wanted to look.

She wondered how she had known the cheerleader would be in the bathroom, had she snuck laxatives into her food? That must have been it. Piper knew that the girl would probably use the most private bathroom if she intended to make a stink, that’s why she was waiting there. Mackenzie wondered how much planning had actually gone into Piper’s little “prank.”

She started fantasizing about the two of them dating, what that would be like. Would we eat each others shit or would Piper want all of it? Maybe Piper could eat both of our shit and then vomit it back into my mouth! Mackenzie thought, giddy with excitement. She had romantic fantasies about them getting married. She thought about the two of them getting a cat together. Maybe Piper would force me to clean the litter box with my mouth! Maybe when I need  to get up early, Piper could fart loudly into my face instead of an alarm clock. If she gets a cold, I wonder if she’ll use my tongue as a tissue. Maybe our menstrual cycles would sync up! Then we could make tea with each others used tampons! How romantic!

Unfortunately, Mackenzie didn’t come across the delightfully disgusting girl for the rest of the day. Upon arriving home, she did her homework and chores, then headed straight for her room to spend the rest of the night masturbating. She opened up her computer and watched her favorite videos. As always, she imagined herself as the girls in the videos, but this time, she imagined Piper alongside her. She watched, as in her mind, her and Piper sniffed each others farts directly from one another’s assholes. As Piper filled her mouth with shit before making out with her passionately. As Piper pulled up her skirt in public and made Mackenzie kneel down to drink her piss in front of a crowd. She watched herself lick snot from Piper’s nose, and watched as a syringe of liquefied feces was squirted up her own nose.

She hoped that soon she’d be able to share this collection of obscene videos with the girl she admired. Mackenzie slipped a few fingers into her own ass as she watched them. After orgasming for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, she withdrew the digits from her anus and looked at them. A wet brown streak adorned her fingers, she brought it to her nose to inhale the foul stench deeply. A thought crossed her mind. Could she…. put it in her mouth? Could she behave with the obscene boldness of Piper and eat her own shit? She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. She hesitated for a few moments. Her heart raced with the excitement at doing something so dirty.

No, she thought as she grabbed a tissue and cleaned her fingers, it’s not that I can’t do it, it’s just that I want Piper’s shit to be the first that’s ever in my mouth.

With that, the red-headed girl changed into her plain, off-white nightgown and went to sleep.

Mackenzie spent most of the next day searching for Piper in the halls between classes. At lunch time she planned to head to the same bathroom to see if she’d be waiting again. But before she had a chance to, she saw the green mohawk disappear into the cafeteria. She quickly followed behind. She managed to get into the cafeteria line only a few places behind Piper. She was close enough to talk to her, but she was too nervous to say a word. Instead she just stared in awe, hoping she wouldn’t get caught looking.

From this angle, she managed to see the other side of Piper’s head. She had another tattoo, opposite the “Potty Mouth” one she’d seen earlier. This one labeled her with the words “Ass 2 Mouth 4 Life” the last two words beneath the top three. Mackenzie had worried that perhaps her expectations for Piper were too high, but now she was certain that this girl was everything she dreamed of and more!

She stared as Piper retrieved a hot dog, then paid the lunch-lady for it. Mackenzie was so mesmerized, she forgot to even put anything on her tray. When she reached the end of the line, she simply blushed and hurried off to find a seat from which she could stare at her new infatuation.

She sat down just as she saw Piper making her way decisively across the cafeteria. Following her gaze, she saw the cheerleader from the bathroom the other day; there was a decent sized group around her, mostly male.

“Hey, cheer-tits! How’s it going?” Piper said, forcing her way between the cheerleader and the girl sitting to her left. Finding space wasn’t difficult; the girl next to her recoiled with a look of disgust as soon as she saw Piper trying to squeeze in. The cheerleader, unfortunately for her, didn’t have the chance to scoot away; Piper had wrapped her arm around the girls shoulder like an overly-friendly drunk.

“Piper, I swear to fucking god...” the cheerleader said in a low voice, partially threatening, but mostly pleading.

Seemingly ignoring the girl’s comment, she addressed the boys around her, “Hey, so you guys gonna hit her in the shitter after school today?”

“What?” one of the boys replied, seemingly amazed by her vulgarity.

“Ya know, put your fuck-sticks in her fart-cannon, pound her in the poop chute.” she looked around for a moment to a group of smiling but silent young men, before finally clarifying, “Butt sex!”

The cheerleader scrunched her face in horror and disgust, wishing the vulgar little punk would just leave her alone. “I don’t do that.” she finally replied with a superior tone, hoping to reassert her dominance over the situation, “Only whores do anal, Piper. Whores like you.”

Piper seemed indifferent to the attempted insult, “Seriously? I could have sworn I tasted some jizz when you shit in my mouth yesterday. Have you just been gobbling so much cock-snot that it’s flavoring your turds or something?”

“That didn’t happen!” the cheerleader announced to the group of boys who were making little effort to conceal their amusement.

“Sure it did. I think we even had a witness…” she trailed off as she twisted to begin searching the room. Mackenzie’s heart started to pound as Piper’s gaze finally landed on her. “Oh, hey firecrotch!” she called over, “you remember when I chugged diarrhea from cheer-tits’s asshole yesterday, right?”

Mackenzie’s skin tingled at the acknowledgement; she was too shy to vocalize anything more than a timid squeak, but the tightly pursed grin indicated how pleased she was for Piper’s attention. She managed an enthusiastic little nod, only meeting Pipers eyes for a second before demurely looking down again.

“See? Firecrotch over there remembers.” As she spoke, Piper took the hot dog from its bun and, with a sideways lean, casually sodomized herself with it. A couple of boys on the other side of the table stood up to see if she was really doing what it looked like she was doing. After a few quick thrusts and turns she removed the wiener from her anus and put it back into the split piece of bread.

“Did you just put that in your butt??” One of the boys asked.

“Ass to mouth for life, baby!” she replied, tapping the tattoo above her left ear before taking a large bite. She chewed and swallowed, before her eyebrows pulled together in a look of mild discomfort. “Uhh! Mustard kinda hurts in the butthole. I should have gotten ketchup.”

She stood, to the immense relief of the cheerleader who’d been silently praying that her tormentor would finally leave her alone. “I’m gonna look for some napkins or something to clean out my shitter.”

Piper left her tray, but took the hot-dog, which she continued to eat as she walked. She grabbed a few napkins and proceeded to the exit, turning back at the last moment and locking eyes with Mackenzie from across the room. She smiled and winked, as if to say I notice you. Mackenzie’s heart fluttered; Piper saw.

With that, she was gone. Mackenzie didn’t see her again for the rest of the day.

That night was a repeat of the previous one, with Mackenzie masturbating furiously to scat and filth porn, romanticizing the future she could have with Piper. As the post-orgasmic haze waned, she realized she had mixed feelings about the day. She found watching Piper thrilling. However, even though she had multiple opportunities to talk with her; she squandered them all. Piper was bold, fearless; what could a timid girl like Mackenzie do to get her attention? To really get her attention. Not just a glance as she was leaving the cafeteria to clean mustard out of her asshole. Mackenzie giggled aloud at the memory.

She thought for a few moments. The idea of asking her on a date appeared in her mind. Mackenzie rejected it, knowing that while it was an appealing thought, her timidity would never allow her to articulate it. Recalling that there was a pep rally the following day, Mackenzie decided that she would look for Piper, and ask if she could sit next to her. It seemed simple enough; “May I sit with you?” Only five words, she could do this!

She practiced in her head for the rest of the night. Mackenzie knew it was silly to practice a single sentence over and over again, but she hoped by replaying it enough times, she’d have the courage to actually say it aloud.

***

The next morning was relatively ordinary for Mackenzie; she got out of bed at the first alarm, made her bed, headed to the bathroom to shit and piss, washed her hands while taking special care to clean under her fingernails before breakfast, ate two toaster waffles plus two eggs and a glass of orange juice, brushed her teeth for two and a half minutes, showered while taking special care to clean behind her ears and between her toes, stepped out of the shower to clean inside her ears with a q-tip, before finally dressing, fixing her hair, and grabbing her backpack as she walked out the door to school.

The school day seemed to inch along second-by-second, the only relief came during fourth-period just after lunch. That’s when Mackenzie had Physical Education. She enjoyed that class, not for the often tedious games and exercises, though she didn’t especially object to them, but for the sight and smells of her classmates.

The coaches had the class run the mile that day, circling the outer perimeter of the school to make up the distance. While her running speed was middling, she always rather delighted in seeing some of the other girls dripping with sweat. A particularly heavy blond girl trudged along panting, there was barely a dry spot on her. Mackenzie imagined stealing the girl’s panties after class, wringing out her ass-sweat into a glass and drinking it. This was the kind of girl who was obviously teased for her appearance, but Mackenzie wished that it was possible for the girl to know how sexy she thought she was. If given half a chance she would lick the black gunk from between her toes, suck the perspiration from her armpit hair, motorboat her slick acne-ridden ass.

These thoughts were typical for Mackenzie, she’d been having them for years. They had previously provided some of the material for her spank-bank, but they generally faded from her mind as soon as the next period began, only to be revisited in the privacy of her bedroom each night. Piper, on the other hand, was an obsession.

Fifth period was algebra, which Mackenzie thought was dull. She only found excitement in the prospect that in place of sixth period would be the school assembly where she’d try to sit next to Piper. She actually gasped as the bell rang, both with excitement and nervousness.

She made her way to the gymnasium where other students were already beginning to crowd into the bleachers. She took a seat in the middle of the third row, only a few feet from the front, and began to look around for an axe-shaped formation of green hair jutting from a tattooed pink scalp.

After a few minutes she started getting discouraged; additionally, there were some other students who had decided to sit on either side of her, blocking her in. One of the coaches had just begun speaking when she finally saw the dark emerald colored mohawk appear. Beneath it was Piper, wearing a baggy black sweatshirt over her too-short skirt.

Damn it! She thought, They’ve already started, I can’t get up to go and sit by her now!

Piper scanned the crowd; eventually, her eyes met with Mackenzie and she smiled and began walking forward. She’s coming to sit with me! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I didn’t plan for this! What do I say? What do I do?

Piper came up the aisle and began side-stepping through the crowded row toward her; awkward little steps that one has to make when trying not to trample the feet of those already seated. Mackenzie watched as she came closer and closer; there was a bit of space just next to her where Piper could sit. To her surprise, Piper instead stepped up onto the bench next to her instead of sitting down. Oh, of course, she thought, crestfallen. She’s obviously climbing up to sit with one of her real friends behind me. Her hurt turned to confusion when, instead of climbing up, Piper stepped over her. Her feet straddled Mackenzie’s lap; she looked up to see that Piper had pulled up the back of her skirt and bent forward. Her jaw dropped open as she was now inches away from Piper’s tight pink anus.

A loud fart preceded a torrent of chunky brown slime by a fraction of a second. Piper’s asshole exploded with chunks of shit, the first shooting into Mackenzie’s still gaping mouth. She was blinded a moment later by a torrent of liquid feces. She heard a commotion around her as the other students darted away from the scene. The hot stink made her want to gasp for air, but given that her nose and mouth were flooded with Piper’s diarrhea, it only resulted in her coughing, gagging, and then vomiting.

She couldn’t see, but was astonished that the stream seemed to still be coming. It coated her hair and face with a heavy, wet bulk, and was now pouring onto her chest and lap. Finally, she heard the sound of a few pops of gas as the last few flecks shot onto her face, and it seemed to be over.

Mackenzie was still gagging and coughing, trying frantically to wipe the warm brown filth from her face. After several seconds, she was able to open her eyes to see Piper being held down and handcuffed by a man shouting at her in that angry-yet-controlled tone of voice that every police officer has. She was picked up roughly and perp-walked out of the gymnasium.

An older female teacher approached Mackenzie, though not too closely, and told her to stay where she was. Her tone seemed almost frantic; a few seconds later a younger male approached her with a stack of towels. He handed them to her at arms-length, not wanting to enter the perimeter of filth that had Mackenzie at its epicenter. She stood and looked down to see herself coated in an astonishing amount of shit; it had pooled around her. For a brief moment, she thought that with her red hair, she must look like the titular character at the end of a scat-themed porn parody of “Carrie.”

She began using towels to wipe herself off. Her face came relatively clean, but Piper’s shit still coated her hair and clothing. She did the best she could, leaving a large pile of white towels, now coated in brown. She heard the school staff discussing among themselves; eventually deciding to lead Mackenzie to the girl’s locker room to shower while someone found her some new clothes from the Lost-and-Found. This was repeated to her as explanation and she followed the older female teacher as she led her to the locker room adjacent to the gymnasium.

About forty-five minutes later, she found herself sitting in the principal's office with damp hair, wearing a black graphic t-shirt and oversized gym shorts. She was informed that her parents had been called and that her father was on the way.

She’d hardly had time to process what had happened due to all the fuss. What Piper did, while surprising, was far from the trauma everyone seemed to act like it was. The most traumatic part was seeing her handcuffed and dragged away. Mackenzie adored her, now more than ever. She actually felt elated that Piper cared enough to arrange the stunt. The amount of liquefied feces was far more than what a girl her size could naturally produce in a day; she must have saved it up and pumped it into her ass as an enema. Knowing that Piper had gone home the previous day and thought about her, had actually planned for her; Mackenzie couldn’t have asked for more.

Her father finally arrived and entered the office. He immediately asked Mackenzie how she was doing. She assured him that she was fine; that everyone was making far too big a deal of it. Her father was a kind man with a gentle voice. His disposition was often compared to Mr. Rogers, and for good reason. He and Mackenzie’s mother brought her up in a progressive Christian household; teaching her that the only thing anyone should be ashamed of was being hateful. They’d even begun taking her to charity events for LGBT+ youths around the time Mackenzie started showing hints of being gay. She never officially “came out” to her parents, they just eventually realized that her gender preferences were different from most girls, and “there’s nothing wrong with being different,” they told her. Still, she held back her more taboo interests.

Only a few moments after her father arrived, a pretty blonde woman entered the office. She was introduced as Piper’s mother, Mrs. Lindeholm.

“Miss Lindeholm,” she corrected. This woman had the air of a controlling business executive one might see in a movie about investment banking. “I want to start off by apologizing for what my daughter did. I will obviously be paying for any cleaning costs associated with the incident, both to the school and the victim.” She sat and addressed Mackenzie and her father directly, “I understand that you may be considering pressing criminal charges against my daughter.” Her tone softened, “I would like you to understand that Piper has a history of… problems with regards to how she interacts with other people. It seemed that she was improving enough to attend public school but an incident like this was… Well it’s not something I anticipated. She’s never done anything so public before. I’m told your name is Mackenzie?”

She nodded. Miss Lindholm then took her hand and looked into her eyes.

“I’m very sorry for what my daughter did to you, Mackenzie. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

This woman was obviously practiced in taking command of a situation. She was, in truth, a bit overwhelming. Mackenzie thought for a moment and summoned the courage to speak, “I… I don’t want to press charges or anything. I just want to be sure Piper is okay. I don’t think anything bad should happen to her. I mean… the whole thing isn’t a big deal. She just… I mean… she just pooped. Everyone poops.”

Miss Lindeholm smiled at the remark, her face showed equal parts relief and amusement. “I’m very glad to hear you say that. You’re a very kind girl, Mackenzie.”

“So what’s going to happen to Piper?”

“Well, given that she’s backslid quite a bit, I’m going to have her stay in a psychiatric hospital for a time. She’ll be well cared for. She’s also likely going to be suspended for a period of time that I’ll be discussing with your principal shortly.”

“She’s going to be expelled, Mrs. Lindeholm.” the principal interjected.

The woman gave a brief side-eyed glare at the slender, balding man; as if to say We’ll see about that.

She pulled an index card from her pocket and handed it to Mackenzie’s father, “This is my contact information. Please send me the bill for any cleaning services or anything else associated with the incident. I’d even be happy to buy Mackenzie a brand-new outfit. Unless the principal has anything further to discuss with you, I imagine you’d like to get home and get on with your day.”

They turned to the principal who nodded his consent for them to leave. They heard an echo of Miss Lindeholm’s sharp tongue laying into the principal as they walked down the hall. 

The next day, Mackenzie elected not to go to school. She was worn out from the previous day’s incident, and even more so from the marathon masturbation session that took up the majority of her evening.

Finally knowing that her interest in Piper was reciprocated, she texted Miss Lindeholm, asking if it would be possible for her to visit Piper in the mental hospital. Mackenzie had tasted Piper’s shit for what she hoped would be the first of many times; she figured it was about time they had their first conversation. Miss Lindeholm texted back, giving the address of the hospital, and even giving instructions on how to get to the psych ward. She obviously wanted to accommodate her request, still fearing that Mackenzie may decide to press charges after all.

She briefly dipped into her father’s home office to let him know that she was going to be visiting a friend in the hospital for a little while (though not clarifying which one), and after a brief exchange, she was off.

Less than twenty minutes later she arrived at the hospital. She spoke to the receptionist and after a brief wait, was led in to meet Piper.

For some reason, the anxiety that had previously plagued her was pointedly absent. She entered a large room sparsely populated by bored looking people in drab pajamas. There were a number of round tables; atop one was what appeared to be an abandoned game of dominos.

As they approached Piper, Mackenzie saw her formerly proud mohawk hanging in a bedraggled mess around her face. Her eyes looked down with a concerned focus at the puzzle pieces on the table in front of her; rather than using them to form a picture, she had merely organized them into neat piles based on their shape and color.

“Piper Lindeholm, you have a visitor.”

Piper seemed startled, having apparently been engrossed in her task of categorizing puzzle pieces. She looked up to see Mackenzie, then looked down with an expression of shame.

“Oh… umm… hi.” was all she said.

Mackenzie sat down and scooted her chair next to the disheveled girl. “Hi, Shit-Pipe. You, said you like to be called that, back when we first met. I’m Mackenzie.” She spoke in a sweet, soft voice.

Piper just stared down at her puzzle pieces.

“Whatcha doing?” Mackenzie asked

“Umm, there are six pieces missing. There’s supposed to be two hundred, but there are only one-hundred-ninety-four. I found one earlier, but it’s still missing six. Umm… Jesus fuck, you don’t care about my puzzle. I’m really sorry about what I did to you. I don’t know why I did it, I guess I just thought… that you liked me or something? And I guess it was like, you know when little boys pull the pretty girl’s hair because they like her and they don’t know what else to do? It was like that, I guess.”

Mackenzie blushed, “You think I’m pretty?”

Piper looked up at her briefly before looking down again with an awkward smile. “I mean, yeah, of course I do. You’re a fuckin’ knockout. Shit, I’d crawl across a field of broken glass just to sniff a pair of panties you farted in.”

Mackenzie laughed, “I’d say the same thing about you, but it doesn’t seem like you wear panties.” They laughed together this time.

Piper’s posture slackened somewhat, “When I saw you, I thought you were here to ‘save my soul’ or something. My mom said your family is like super Christian.”

“Well, yeah, I mean we kinda are. By the way, your mom is really cool.”

“Right?? I know I do some pretty fucked up shit, but she tries really hard for me.”

“I could tell.” Mackenzie wore a huge smile. She was actually having a conversation with Piper! “So… how did you start, being you?”

“What like my ‘origin story?’” Piper curled her fingers into air quotes as she spoke. “Fuck me, where do I start?” Her eyebrows scrunched as she looked off into the distance for a few seconds. “Okay, I guess I started saying and doing really inappropriate shit in middle school. Well, actually it was before that, but I think they tolerated it more ‘cuz I was so young. I used to try really hard to make friends with people and to not say really weird shit that made people… like, change?”

The expression on Mackenzie’s face said she needed elaboration.

“Okay,” Piper continued, “You know how you’re going along and talking to someone and you’re fuckin’ around playing games or talking about teachers or whatever? And everything seems fine, but then you say something and then all of a sudden it seems like they don’t like you. They’re mad, or grossed out, or they just start acting really uncomfortable, and sometimes they make fun of you.”

“You talked about things like eating poo?”

“Well, not at first. Like in sixth or seventh grade I had this best friend. And she just got a dog, so we were playing with the dog, and it was a female, so I wanted to look at her pussy. I was just curious if a dog’s pussy looked like mine. But everyone got really mad at me when I said that and tried to look. I don’t really know why, though. It’s not like I was hurting the dog by looking at it. She stopped being friends with me after that. It’s not even the first time something like that happened. So I guess around that time, I figured that I can try to be normal, but if I do that, then I’ll have to be constantly scared that I’m going to say or do something that’ll make people change and suddenly start hating me. So I figured I can say and do weird, gross shit one-hundred percent of the time and that way, at least I know how people are going to react, so I don’t need to be scared of messing up. Oh, and when I was eleven, I spied on my mom at work and she was peeing in a guys mouth, so after that I got curious and started drinking and eating piss and shit, respectively. My mom’s a dominatrix, by the way.”

Mackenzie was a bit taken aback by Piper’s candid, stream-of-consciousness confession. “Wow, umm, I’m sorry that people were mean to you. But I really like who you are now. I, uhh, I didn’t start quite as early as you. I only started looking at porn a few years ago, and I only started getting really into scat porn after ninth grade. So I, I kinda always fantasized about meeting a girl like you. I’ve actually been thinking about you every night since we met. I mean, I think about you during the day, too. It’s just that at night, I think about you when I… umm, when I, touch myself.”

Piper stared with a slack-jawed smile briefly, “Are you shittin’ me, fire-crotch? You’re seriously into me, like as-is. You know my hair was held up mostly by my own snot.”

“Really?” she giggled timidly, “That’s so sexy.”

“I put my toothbrush up my ass every single night before I brush my teeth.” she challenged

“Can you do that to mine, too?”

Piper still seemed skeptical of the starry-eyed redhead.

“I save my own shit in a container in my room so I can eat it later. I do that with dog-shit I find lying around, too. Actually, I blended that all up, squirted it up my ass, and shat it all onto your face in front of the whole school, yesterday! You’re seriously saying you’re into me after that. Like into me, into me; like you seriously want to date me.” Her tone was unbelieving, as though challenging Mackenzie to convince her that there was really someone who could love her for who she is.

“Maybe I’ll start saving my shit in containers, too. Maybe we can even trade. Or you can just shit in my mouth again, like yesterday. I’ll try not to gag and throw up so much next time. I… hope that there’s going to be a next time?”

Chapter 1

Part of the Pervert Pentet Series

(Content warning and author’s notes: So I mentioned previously that this story wasn’t so good in it’s first iteration, I gave it a pretty significant re-write and, while Teira is a difficult character to write, I think I managed to do a decent job of making it at least acceptably good.

As for content this story is HEAVY on torture and does contain a snuff scene. As with most of the stories in the Pervert Pentet series, I want to remind you that you shouldn’t do anything that any of my characters do or attempt, but I want to ESPECIALLY emphasize it in this story, A few of the things I describe Teira surviving would have a moderate to high chance of being fatal in real life. This character’s ability to endure and survive torture is unrealistic in the real world. Do not do any of these things in real life...Seriously.)

Goddess Johanna’s heart fluttered in excitement as she stood across from Teira. Finally, she thought, after all these years, someone worthy of me.

Her mind flashed back over the lifetime of unsatisfied sadism. The time she’d spent in mental institutions and jail cells after carving her name in the flesh of her lovers. The dungeons that had blacklisted her as a dominatrix after one too many visits from an ambulance or a lawyer. None of them understood. They couldn’t understand what she’d always known about herself. That she was a goddess among vermin, and that her divinity demanded an offering of pain, a sacrifice of the flesh.

When she learned of the performance artist Teira Volks, she felt as though she’d discovered a mirror of herself, another real being who was above the nameless, faceless drones unworthy of even kissing the ground upon which she walked. A divine masochist making offerings of pain into the void; obviously hoping that a divine sadist like Johanna could come and put an end to her loneliness. She spent the next few months trying to get in contact with her. Explained who she was, detailed the things she had done, things that only another like her could understand. She was frustrated having to go through intermediaries; had the world been just she’d have made them flush their cocks down the toilet and thank her showing them how lowly they are.

But finally… finally, she was told she would meet with Teira herself. And not only that, but Teira was willing to offer her body upon the very first meeting. It was explained that the artist was looking for something, for someone, and that she was willing to allow Johanna to inflict any torment upon her on the chance that she was the one the artist had been seeking.

Like Johanna, Teira was German-born, but famous throughout Europe’s art scene, her recognition quickly growing throughout the world art community. She specialized in suffering, using her body as the medium through which she displayed her work. Johanna had first learned of Teira after an exhibition called “Concentration.” She had rented a small abandoned factory for the project, and performed hard labor nearly every waking hour, denying herself food, medicine, or rest. She lived a life as near to the victims of the WW2 concentration camps as she could manage. Inexplicably managing to push herself to the point of starvation and near-fatal sickness with no outside motivation to do so. In fact, many pleaded with her to stop, but she was indifferent to the outside world, even as they walked in and around the factory. She permitted freedom of movement to the audience, they could get as close as they liked to her. They could hear every agonized pant, could smell the blisters on her feet that had turned to festering sores. She had been indifferent to the audience, as if they were in a different world, even when they went so far as to touch her distended ribs. She had moved like a woman entranced, unnoticing of every pain and molestation. The only thing the audience wasn’t allowed to do was to interfere with her self-imposed suffering, the security team she hired saw to that. At some point, recording devices were no longer permitted in her vicinity. A few weeks after that, local authorities stormed the exhibition and forced Teira to stop. Her security team was arrested, and she was taken to a hospital where it was found that starvation, exhaustion, and infection were all racing to see which would kill her first. Images of her from that day circulated throughout the art world and far beyond; the artist who pushed herself, slowly, agonizingly, to the precipice of death. She became synonymous with the art of suffering.

And here she is, Johanna thought as she stood across the room from her. For a moment a troubling thought popped into her head. What if I was wrong? What if she isn’t worthy of me? What if she’s like the others, and she’ll be sniveling and begging me to stop five minutes from now?

She looked at the woman inquiringly, and to her relief, found that there was something about her that was unlike anyone she’d ever met. The thing she most noticed about Teira Volks was that something about her face made her look...severe.  

The second thing she noticed is that she couldn’t tell exactly why it looked severe. Was it her features? No, in fact her facial features were quite pleasantly rounded. Perhaps her hair? No, while the short blonde Cleopatra cut was so neatly styled that it made her look almost robotic, it wasn’t responsible for the air of malice. The scars, perhaps! They had been so well mended she hardly noticed them at first examination. Thin, white dots and dashes, and the occasional slash written across her face like the ghosts of old wounds. The sheer number and variety was unsettling, but it wasn’t that either.

She realized at last… it was the eyes. A cobalt blue that didn’t merely pierce but stabbed like a frosted iron blade. It was as if those eyes knew that nightmares were reality, and the waking world was actually the dream.

She breathed in and swallowed as she met the woman’s gaze. Despite the mild temperature of the room, she felt almost certain that she would see her breath freeze in the air as she exhaled. Fortunately for Johanna, no such thing happened. The dominatrix briefly humored the idea that she might actually feel intimidated by Teira, but assured herself that it was just the unfamiliarity of being in the presence of another person of such power.

She stood in the middle of the brightly-lit bare room facing the almost impossibly confident masochist. Teira stood silently across from her. For a long time there was an awkward silence while the scar-faced woman seemed to be staring quietly into Johanna’s soul. She began to unbutton the black, double-breasted leather coat she wore.

“Shall we begin?

Johanna swallowed before nodding; she hoped her excitement wouldn’t make the artist think less of her. She chastised herself for even having such a thought. She watched as Teira’s coat fell in pile at her feet. Her slightly pudgy, yet still petite body was bare before her. She looked down at the coat, and the feet that stood in front of it on the hardwood floor. Two toes missing on her right foot. A few other scarred nail beds were apparent; three toes on her left foot were covered with scabs where the nails should have been, the result of recently being pried off carelessly, if Johanna were to guess. She glanced up to Teira’s hands; the last three digits of her right hand didn’t even have a hint of nails left, seemingly peeled off too many times to have regrown. Her pinky seemed slightly gnarled, as through repeatedly broken and reset. She had all ten fingers, at least.

The rest of her body wasn’t much different. Wounds in various stages of healing, some clean and surgical, others ragged. Beneath the very slight pudge of her mid-section her cunt was so marked with small keloids it almost looked as though someone had scribbled on it with a pale red marker. Her small-ish, slightly deflated looking breasts weren’t much better, with one of her nipples looking as though it might have been removed completely and remade surgically.

Johanna’s body was tingling, like a performer about to go on stage, so much so that she jumped slightly at the sound of the large trunk being dropped on the floor behind her. She spun around quickly to see Teira’s… attendant? Assistant? The large craggy-faced man named Heinrich who looked like the lead henchman in some American action film. Johanna had told him he’d need a dolly, or perhaps a second strong man to haul her trunk of sadistic toys up the stairs. Apparently, she’d been wrong.

Most of her direct interactions so far had been with Heinrich, and only by text, but that didn’t make her any more comfortable with him. What did make her comfortable was the agreement that was made. “No limits.” That’s what was agreed upon. There was no restriction on what she could to do Teira. Heinrich lingered briefly before stepping just outside the door and closing it behind him. He was the kind of man that would instantly set off alarms in the brain of any person with the slightest sense of self-preservation, yet Teira’s sense of ease didn’t seem diminished around him at all. Around either of them, despite the fact that she stood naked, waiting to be tortured.

She decided to turn her attention on Teira, and her anticipation into action. Johanna sensually glided over to the trunk and opened it decisively. Her fingers curled around a black wooden truncheon. Memories of their time together came flooding back, of kneecaps cracked and fingers broken, even a tailbone or two shattered.

The raven-haired woman placed the weapon on a large table, the only furnishing of the peculiar room. Her mind briefly considered the oddness of the space around her. Hardwood floors, and four white walls, seemingly freshly painted. Despite being in a residential building, it wasn’t an apartment. Just a plain, enclosed cube with harsh overhead lighting.

She continued unloading various implements of suffering carefully onto the table. A hammer and a box of nails specially made with extra large heads. An insertable that Johanna called “The Devil’s Cock.” A black single-tail whip. A large jug of vinegar coupled with a dirty rag. There was much more in the trunk, but Johanna decided to hold off for now, especially as some of her ‘toys’ required electricity, and there didn’t appear to be any outlets in the room.

It was time to begin; she could almost hear the praise she anticipated from her victim. Telling her that she truly was the goddess she believed herself to be, that she was the sadist Teira had searched her whole life for, that things would be different now that they were together. Johanna’s red-nailed fingertips clutched the harsh bludgeoning club as strode confidently to be face to face with her victim. Teira was five foot two at most, and in heels, Johanna was nearly a foot taller than her. The petite artist looked up expectantly; her calm, chilling eyes sent another spark of ice down Johanna’s spine. She clenched her teeth, a part of her hated how aloof she seemed; but at the same time, she relished the idea of pouring every ounce of hate and rage into her flesh.

She wound up with the truncheon and there was a fleshy CRACK as the wood made contact with Teira’s mouth, blood and teeth shot across the room. She took a step back coughing. That’s right, bitch! Eat your goddamn teeth!

But she was still standing, she still had her composure. She wanted Teira to be a crying puddle on the floor, she wanted to see those icy eyes filled with tears and desperation; praising her for bringing her to a place of despair no one ever has before. She wound up again and cracked her on the collarbone. A couple more times in the ribs, and finally a full-force blow to her right knee. The last one finally brought her to the floor.

It was a beautiful sight to Johanna, the great artist on the ground before her. Blood pouring from her split lips and shattered teeth. “Stay down!” she barked as she returned to her table to trade out the truncheon for a hammer and nails.

She knelt when she returned, her hand darted out to seize Teira’s foot. She expected it to be pulled away, but the woman made no effort to do so. She simply sat, staring at her with what looked like keen interest. Johanna pressed the outside of Teira’s foot against the hardwood floor and positioned a large nail just in front of her Achilles tendon. She expected to hear a scream when the hammer drove the metal spike through her flesh, but was rewarded instead with a sharp hiss as one makes from a paper-cut.

I will break this cunt! The vow was almost unconscious as she continued her work. A few more strikes secured one leg to the floor. She took a second nail and spread her victim’s legs obscenely wide before fixing the other limb in place with the metal spike pounded in just behind the ankle-joint. If anything, her reaction to the pain was less this time.

She stood, before driving the heel of her stiletto boot harshly into Teira’s sternum, kicking the sitting form onto her back. She gasped for breath as Johanna took a step to stand with full force on the inside of her arm, crushing the slightly loose skin of her tricep beneath her pointed heel. As she squatted down, the twisting of her boot was enough to draw blood. She didn’t care, her focus was to place a nail dead-center in her palm and crucify the masochist to the floor. She did the other hand to match and took a step back to look at her handiwork. Small puddles of blood beneath the end of each bound limb, her knee and ribs were turning a lovely shade of brutalized violet-black, devastated mouth still dripping with scarlet, but the eyes… those fucking eyes staring back at her. Calm, no tears, no pleading for mercy; just a girl mindfully observing the mutilation of her own body.

Johanna’s teeth clenched as she carefully picked up the implement she affectionately referred to as “The Devil’s Cock.” A fourteen inch wooden phallus that had been covered in hundreds of tacks and then wrapped in red leather so that the points formed a cactus-like array of metal barbs. It had a girth nearly as thick as her fist. This beast alone had landed some of her previous submissive’s in the hospital.

She lined it up with the blonde woman’s cunt and, knowing it was too big and too rough to force into her by conventional means, whacked the base of it with the hammer. Beads of blood immediately began streaming down over her asshole onto the wooden floor beneath. Johanna was tempted to look up, hoping to see Teira’s face contorted into agony, but was afraid of seeming too hungry for a response. She continued hammering the sadistic phallus into Teira’s most tender area. The only sound was the clack of hammer on wood echoing through the spartan room. Not a scream, not a whimper, not even a gasp this time. She felt more like a fucking carpenter than a dominatrix.

The sadist stood up, in her periphery she could still see Teira’s face. Serene as a goddamned Buddhist monk! She threw the hammer down angrily, and gripped the single-tail. Johanna had always been the type to push limits, to do the things she wasn’t ‘supposed’ to do. Her eyes glanced over the parts of Teira’s body that lesser sadists considered appropriate for whipping, eventually landing on a clear spot of skin just above the split lip and shattered teeth. She wound up… CRACK! The sound echoed through the small room as a welt appeared across Teira’s cheek, beads of blood formed seconds later and began to slowly make a crimson line down toward her ear. She wound up again, carefully watching for a response… CRACK! This time the whip drew blood instantly, as a small diagonal gash appeared on the bridge of her nose. Yet there was no response, she didn’t even blink when the whip made contact! She simply looked… unimpressed. Johanna’s gut felt caught in a vice, she’d never had the experience of a masochist who was too much for her. No, she thought to herself as she dropped the whip and grabbed the vinegar jug and rag, That’s not what this is, she’s pretending, she’s testing me. She’s on the edge of breaking, she must be. I will be the one. I will be the one to break Teira Volks, and that will prove that I am the only one worthy of her submission. It’ll prove that I’m not just a ‘psycho bitch.’ She’ll understand my greatness! She’ll make others understand! No one has ever understood! They’ve never understood how far beneath me they all are! Something I do will break her. Something I do will! break! her!

“Even you need to breathe, Teira Volks.” She growled quietly to herself as she pressed the filthy rag over her face. She popped open the plastic cap of the jug of vinegar and turned it slowly. She had plenty of experience waterboarding smart-assed masochists who thought they could handle anything. Using vinegar added an element of agony that had never failed to make her victims either lose their mind or beg for freedom. She was pleased to see the pale, naked torso of Teira thrashing almost as soon as she began pouring. Johanna slowly counted twenty seconds before she stopped and took the rag away. Teira coughed and spat for a long time, trying to expel the caustic liquid from her lungs. The dominatrix was satisfied that things were turning in her favor. She finally took a few ragged breaths, at which point Johanna threw the rag back over her face and started again. She observed the naked girl trying to flail, but bound to the floor by thick metal spikes. The extra-wide heads of the nails ensured she couldn’t rip her flesh free. She counted twenty seconds again before pulling off the wet rag, any longer and she’d need immediate medical care to keep her from dying. Even twenty seconds was pushing it.

It was well over a minute before Teira was able to take a breath again. Her eyes were bloodshot and her body thrashed desperately for oxygen.

One more time… then I’ll give her a chance to beg, a chance to tell me that I’m the one she’s been searching for. For a third time, Johanna threw the rag over Teira’s face and poured the acidic liquid down her nose and throat. Her thrashing this time was so violent that she managed to yank free the nail that skewered her left hand. Johanna wrestled it to the ground as she continued pouring, the metal still impaling the flesh of the now liberated limb.

Finally, the third pour was finished. She yanked the rag off her face and slammed the vinegar jug down next to her. She stood up and folded her arms with a menacing scowl. She waited for the inevitable tears, the satisfaction of hearing the screaming pleas for mercy she expected to come any moment.

She watched the sputtering wet coughs that actually contained blood now. Her face was a mess of spit and snot and tears. Her breathing turned to desperate gasps as she used her free left hand to wipe the mess from her face. Her breathing turned to ragged wheezing, and then suddenly she was silent. Calm. Her frost colored eyes looked up at Johanna’s.

No, no, NO! She screamed internally, I’m a fucking goddess!!! I’m a nightmare to masochistic little cunts like her!!! She’s not okay! This can’t be! This is impossible!

“What’s next?”

Two words from Teira’s bloodied mouth was all it took. So nonchalant; Johanna realized that she was powerless in the face of someone like this. The creature bound to the floor beneath her was a god of suffering, and her offering to the deity just wasn’t enough. She… wasn’t enough.

Johanna screamed in frustration, and for a moment considered throwing herself down upon her victim and using her bare fists to unleash her rage upon the woman who’d broken her, but she realized it’d only make her feel more powerless. Teira Volks had no more concern over her own flesh than a butcher did to an animal carcass. She turned away in shame and dropped to her knees in tears. She felt as though her soul itself had been gutted. Her identity, her pride, her ego, it came crashing down around her.

The pain in her psyche was so deep she didn’t even notice Teira systematically working the other three nails free. Nor did she notice the broken body limping decisively over to the trunk and picking up the smallest item, a box of razor blades. Johanna did notice when the single razor blade Teira removed swiftly bit deeply into the flesh at the back of her neck twice in rapid succession. She turned and attempted to push the woman away, but found her left arm to be quite paralyzed. Teira grabbed her roughly with bleeding hands and there were another pair of skillful cuts on the other side.

Johanna tried to stand up but stumbled forward on powerless arms. Johanna’s heart sank when she realized what had happened. Oh my god... She severed the motor nerves from my spine!

Adrenaline uselessly pumped through Johanna’s body while Teira pinned her and made another series of quick slices in her lower back. Her legs went limp. She wanted to fight back! She wanted to run! But every signal from her brain to her extremities now dead-ended a few centimeters from her spinal cord.

Teira stood and caught her breath. The damage to her body made her stance unsteady and her lungs rattled, but her maddeningly calm resolve was strong as ever. A few moments later she flipped Johanna onto her back to see wide, tearful eyes looking up at her in mortal terror. “Please, Teira!!! Don’t do this to me! Please!!!”

There was a brief pause as the the dominatrix realized her pleas were hopeless. “You are not what I am looking for.” She said in a dry, matter-of-fact tone, yet there was a hint of sorrow in her words.

Teira knelt between the terrified woman’s legs, trying to be careful not to agitate her own body’s wounds. She unzipped Johanna’s black leather pencil skirt and set it aside. She used the razor to snip the sides of her white, lace panties and placed them gently atop the skirt. For a moment she appeared to be contemplating the slightly overgrown rectangle of curly black hair that adorned Johanna’s pubic mound.

That was when the razor met flesh. Johanna began screaming as soon as Teira made the first incision across the top of the pubic hair. She made two more slits down from the edges and began to peel; using the edge of the razor to shave the skin from the deeper flesh. Teira’s eyebrows pulled together in focus, she’d need to take her time to do this right, especially with the wounds in her hands impairing her dexterity.

A few agonizing minutes later Teira had a still-attached flap of partially flayed skin embellished with Johanna’s pubic hair down to the top of her clit. She continued the vertical slits down either side of her vulva and began to separate the woman’s clitoris from the inside. It was tedious work, cleanly peeling a woman’s vulva off. One could easily be distracted by the shrieks of “OH GOD!!! PLEASE STOP!!! PLEEEEASE!!!” But Teira was not easily distracted. She felt a passing moment of satisfaction as she reached the perineum, having cleanly separated this woman’s external genitalia from the internal. She’d need to turn her over for the rest.

Re-positioning herself, she pushed the larger woman onto her belly with a grunt, and then returned to her work between Johanna’s legs. She began at the top of her posterior cleft with a horizontal incision, and again repeated the process of two vertical slits. Teira did as she had on the front of her body, peeling off the skin of her asscrack in a strip perhaps two inches wide. Thankfully, Johanna seemed to have ruptured her larynx from screaming, so Teira could perform her careful work without the risk of distraction. She would need to be careful when she reached the anus. Orifices were difficult to flay. Especially if one intended to preserve the cleanly peeled strip of skin. She stretched and cut across each fold of the anus, separating the skin from the muscle of her sphincter. The razor was beginning to dull, but fortunately, Teira was almost finished.

A final cut to join the strips in the middle and it was complete. A single long strip of skin, roughly the size and shape of a small clip-on necktie; the ‘knot’ formed by the triangular portion created by Johanna’s pubic mound, beneath which was a long, slender rectangle which contained the dominatrix’s disembodied vulva and anus.

Teira reverently laid the trophy on the floor just above Johanna’s head and laid down next to her. She curled up with her as if drifting off to sleep next to a lover. In a final, horrible act of cruelty, she casually used the razor to make a small nick in the side of Johanna’s trachea. Blood trickled into her lungs with agonizing slowness as Teira drifted off to sleep next to her dying victim.

A razor. Johanna thought a few minutes later at the end of her life. She turned my world into Hell with a single razor blade.

***

The next morning, Teira awoke in a pool of blood next to the pale corpse of Johanna. She saw that Heinrich had returned with a pair of large suitcases. He tossed one in her general direction. She struggled to her feet, her battered and bloodied body made any movement agony, as did the spiked dildo still embedded in her vagina, but she was never one to be overcome by something as mediocre as physical pain. She opened the case and put on the black rubber apron before pulling out the bonesaw and turning to Johanna’s remains. Heinrich was similarly attired. There would be a lot of work to do; disposing of the meat that was once Johanna would be the priority, but the bulk of the labor would be taking down the sound-proofed false walls and floor they’d installed in the apartment. She turned to her long-time partner.