I had my first sexual feeling when I was nine years old. I remember riding on a see-saw with my best friend Judy and feeling a kind of ‘itch’ between my legs. It was a good itch, and I wanted to rub it to make it feel better. But being a girl, I was taught that touching “down there” was a naughty thing to do. I kept my feeling a secret from everyone, even Judy. At night, I would lie in bed and crumple the sheets into a ball and insert it between my legs. I had my first orgasm that way.

When I was twelve, my brother showed me some dirty videos that he had gotten from his friends. We locked the door to his room played them on his VCR. I saw my first naked man on a video. I pretended to be disgusted by it, but my eyes were glued to the screen. I remember thinking how odd it was for a boy to have a piece of flesh hanging between his legs. And it was so large too! How could boys stuff it in their pants without it being noticed, I thought. My brother had some other really weird videos too; like women peeing on each other. At first I thought it was sick but as I watched further, I couldn’t help from getting aroused. I guess my kinky nature came from watching those videos. I also got off by looking at my parent’s history book of painting; I called it “The Treasury of Filthy Art Masterpieces” because it had pictures of naked men and women in it. Boy did I get turned on by them. I would masturbate by inserting strange objects into my pussy, but only at night, in bed of course. I lost my virginity, so to speak, and broke my hymen by inserting a roll-on deodorant bottle. You know, the type that has a rounded end? Of course I performed my vaginal insertions when no one was around, usually when my parents were away on a trip or something. I would get hot just thinking about sticking something new in my cunt. I remember seeing a cucumber in a grocery store and an idea struck. I thought about it for weeks. When the time came and my parents and brother were away, I heated up a cucumber in a pot until it became warm, about as warm as a real cock might get. Then I sat in front of a mirror and pushed the cucumber into my cunt and pretended it was a man’s cock. God, it felt so good and hot in there. I wanted a real cock so bad.

By thirteen I began to realize that I was different from the other girls. Nobody had the same weird ideas as I did. In fact, all my girl friends, even though they spoke a lot about boys, thought sex was dirty and dangerous. But I wanted to have sex, and I’d do anything to get it. I was desperate. The boys my age were too immature for sex, and besides, they didn’t turn me on. I guess because of the influence from the videos, I wanted an older boy. I watched more of my brother’s weird sex videos and pretended it was me getting fucked. I knew I was sexually abnormal, but I didn’t care. I wanted it all. I even got turned on by the thought of being peed on, and in turn, having someone pee on me. And I wanted to get fucked in the ass too, just like in the X rated videos I saw. I even began to insert objects into my anus. Shit, it’s so taboo sticking things up there. I also wanted to know what the taste of ‘come’ was like. I wanted to swirl it in my mouth and swallow it.

One day I discovered a video in my brother’s secret drawer while he was away in school. I put it in the VCR and watched with amazement. It showed a woman pooping on a man’s face. Even THAT turned me on! Later that night I masturbated myself while I stuck my middle finger up my ass. I smelled my filthy finger and got turned on further. I later experimented with tasting my own pee. I must be really sick, I thought.

Then, when the next summer came, we had a new neighbor move next door. He was an older man, single and tall, I watched him whenever he mowed the lawn. He looked so good in his slow, forceful stride pushing against the lawn mower. At night, I would sneak up to his bedroom window and peer in. One night, I caught him with a girl friend. He was standing in front of her. She undressed herself and turned her back to him. He squeezed her ass. I heard her say to him “Fuck me in the ass, please.” Then she got on the floor with her stomach to the ground and he took off his and mounted her like a horse. This was too good to be true, I thought. I watched with fascination. I could tell that she was really enjoying it, even though she was getting fucked in the ass. Her hand kept going between her legs while he pushed his pelvis against her. He still had his pants on but I could tell that he must have had his penis sticking out from his fly. Although I couldn’t see the cock, his back was facing me, he had his hand in front pushing her ass cheeks apart. He must be getting ready to cum, I thought. Then he said something and she got on her knees and pushed her ass to his face. He began to slowly lick her ass. Then he spread her cheeks wide and put his whole face in her crack. God, he must be licking her asshole, I thought. Then the girl turned around and put her face in his lap. I could see her head moving up and down. I guess she was blowing him. Then, he must have come in her mouth because she raised her head and I could see her licking her lips with pleasure. All the while I watched this, my panties became soaked. That night while in bed, I inserted an electric toothbrush in my cunt. I thought about sucking his asshole and drinking his come. Then I came.

The next night I looked from my bedroom window and saw the bathroom light on at my new next door neighbor. I climbed out the window sill and snuck over the ledge to the lit bathroom window. I climbed up a tree that was positioned just perfectly for a good view into his bathroom. Oh, what good fortune! The bathroom light was bright and I could see him clearly. I watched him sitting on the toilet with a magazine on his lap. He was reading it while stroking his cock with right hand. I now saw what his cock looked like. It was big and fat, like a sausage with a reddish head. It stood straight up. The foreskin slid up and down over his cock-head as he jerked off. What a beautiful piece of meat, I thought. Then I saw him reaching under his ass. Then I realized that he was shitting and getting off at the same time! He bent his head over and I saw his cum spurt from his pee-hole. The creamy sperm shot into the air hitting his mouth.

This was too good to be true. An actual man next door who enjoyed what I liked. I had to find a way to meet him but I did not have the nerve. Besides, why would he have an interest in a little girl? The next few weeks, I spent most of my nights waiting for him to appear in front of a window. One night, I peeked in his bathroom window and saw him pissing in the toilet. How strange that a man didn’t need to sit down on the bowl. He stood there with his pants down, holding his big cock with one hand as a stream of golden fluid splashed into the toilet bowl. I wished I could get a closer view. Then when he was finished, he shook it so that the remaining drops would fall off. Cool, I thought.

It took me two more weeks before I came up with a plan and the nerve to approach him. On a Saturday evening, I put on tight fitting jeans, and a tank top and with walked to his front and knocked. When he opened the door, I pretended to be interested in selling him raffle tickets from my school. I was thrilled when he generously bought two tickets and invited me in. No doubt he could tell I was interested in him by the way I stared at him, wide eyed. He introduced himself as Paul and I told him my name. He offered me a coke and I gratefully took it. We sat down in his living room. Then he started asking all kinds of questions about my parents and if I was allowed to visit him and so on. I suppose he was testing the waters to see where I was coming from. I gave him every clue possible. I sat with my legs apart and gave him coy looks, I took off my shoes and brushed my bare feet against his leg. Then I asked if he would show me around the house. By the bulge in his pants I could tell he was getting interested. He showed me around, but for some reason, he avoided the bedroom. I told him that he forgot to show me a room. He, hesitated, and told me that I probably shouldn’t see that room since it might shock a young girl as myself. I told him I wanted to see it and that nothing would shock me. He shrugged and took me in. As we entered, I saw sex pictures hanging on the wall. The photos showed men and women fucking each other. I asked about them and he told me that he liked sex. This got me aroused and I couldn’t believe what I said to him next: I asked him to show me how he did it. After a brief pause, he asked me if I had ever had sex with a man before. I told him, no, but that I wanted to find out. Like a fool, I confessed that I had looked through his window and watched him having sex with his girl friend. I told him, he was the first real person I’d ever seen having sex. Then, even more foolishly, I told him I also watched him through the bathroom window. I wanted to know all. When he heard this, he got red in the face, but did not say anything for a minute.

“Did you see everything?” He asked.

“Yes, everything,” I smiled.

Then he asked me if I’d like to take some sex lessons? “Yes,” I responded softly.

He closed the bedroom door and in a soft tone, told me to sit on the bed. I pretended to be shy but I was actually eager to comply. I sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for his response. I felt excited at the temptation, yet fearful of what might happen to me. He walked slowly towards me and stopped not more than a foot away from me. I remember him saying that he was going to teach me about the facts of sex,. I felt mesmerized, as if he had hypnotized me. I couldn’t refuse. Then I watched him slowly undress until he stood before me completely naked. God, I couldn’t believe my luck. Here was a real live naked man standing right in front of me. He told me to observe every detail carefully. I stared at his limp cock, the folds of wrinkled skin surrounding it, the dark brown pubic hair, and the bag of flesh that held his balls. Then he began the lesson:

“This is what is commonly called a penis, prick, rod, shaft, or a cock. See how flaccid it is right now? That’s because I’m not excited right now and this is how a cock looks on men most of the time. In order to see it enlarge, you’re going to have to excite me. Now to do that, I want you to hold it between your lips; so open your mouth up wide.”

I opened my mouth as wide as I could and felt him insert his penis. I liked the smell of it. It had a stale kind of odor. He held his cock in my mouth for awhile without moving. Then I began to feel it grow against my tongue.

“Feel it enlarge?” he said. “That’s because you’re getting me excited. When a man gets sexually excited, blood begins to pump into the penis and it begins to grow.”

The cock became so large that I could hardly keep my mouth open wide enough. It pushed against my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Then he pulled it out, and there it hung before me, this most beautiful and huge cock. And it wasn’t even fully erect! He began to stroke it and I watched it as it grew larger and stiffer. Oh god, it was too big! I observed bluish veins curled around the outside of the shaft; the head of the cock formed into a strange bulbous shape, and right behind it a section of smooth skin that appeared reddish in color. It looked so good! I wanted to touch it. I put my fingers softly around the shaft and squeezed its hard rubber texture. This was like reading and watching porn but much more real!

Then he stretched my tank top up until my breasts plopped out. Although I was only thirteen, I had grown up faster than most girls. My boobs were large for my age and I had large flesh-pink aureoles. He squeezed my breasts and slapped them around. I could tell he enjoyed that because his cock rose in the air every time he touched me. Then he took hold of my nipple and pulled it out and kneaded it with his fingers. I felt a rush of excitement. Then walking quickly to a dresser drawer, his cock bouncing along with his stride, he took out a rope and wrapped it around the base of his penis. This made his cock even bigger. I could see the veins rising on its surface.

“This is what’s called a ‘hard-on.’ You see, a cock is really quite a primitive device. Nature designed it to deliver fluid into a female orifice. It also uses the same tube to get rid of fluid waste. Odd, isn’t it? There’s two kinds of liquid that come out of this cock: yellow and cream. The yellow kind is called urine or piss and it’s the waste fluid. The cream colored fluid is called sperm or cum and its purpose is to impregnate females so that new cocks and cunts will get born. When a man gets excited to a certain level, it’s the cream that squirts out of this hole here.”

He pointed at the slit-hole at the end of his cock and took his fingers and spread the little hole apart. It looked kind of like a miniature pussy. It was even wet inside. He continued his lesson:

“Now a woman’s sexual organ is something quite different. It’s not as primitive as a man’s. A cunt has a design a intricate as a flower and it’s designed as a deep orifice to accept the meat of a man. Instead of ‘come’, a woman produces a fluid that lubricates the inside of her vagina. That way, the penis slides in easier and it feels better for the male and female. Unlike males, females have a piss hole that’s dedicated solely for the purpose of getting rid of the yellow fluid.”

I was getting so hot listening to him talk like that. My cunt was sopping wet. And I was learning so much too. Paul was talking sex to me like no one had ever explained it to me. He was so graphic, raw, yet so true. Now THIS is the way to teach sex, I thought. If only my parents knew. Paul continued:

“I’m going to tell you a little secret. A secret that every man knows deep down inside but is so disgusting to the average moral man that he would never admit to it. But be assured that what I’m telling you is the truth:

“Coming” for a man feels exactly like pissing, except that there’s an orgasm attached.

“I tell you truthfully; Nature has designed the cock for efficiency and reliability. When sperm shoots out of this hole, it feels just like squirting piss. And believe me, it feels fucking wonderful, regardless of how filthy it may seem to you now. I’m telling you this because there is a way for girls to increase their orgasm and to feel the same thing as a man. If you ever wonder what it feels like for a man to come, then all you have to do is to piss while coming! It’s easier said than done, believe me. However, with practice, it can be done. Normally, during sex the sphincter muscles close the pee hole so that pee can’t come out, but if you let the urine build up inside of you until it feels like it’s boiling, then it will be possible to do so. I know you think this is disgusting, but as you grow older, you’ll remember what I told you and, no doubt, you’ll try it out. And you’ll thank me for it too.”

I didn’t think it was disgusting at all. I wanted him to tell me more! Then Paul took me to the bathroom for my next lesson. He told me to take all my clothes off. As I stripped off my jeans and panties, he unwound the rope from his penis. Then he told me to sit on the toilet.

“I will now show you how a man pees,” he said. “I want you to have a good look at how its done. Spread your legs wide so that I can piss between them.”

Paul stood in front of me with that huge cock aimed between my legs. He took his fingers and spread the slit of his pee-hole apart so I could see the insides.

“Look at my pee-hole, Amy. This is where the piss will emerge from, so pay attention.”

My eyes were glued to the end of his cock.

After a few seconds, a few dribbles fell out and turned into a golden stream. The flow splashed between my legs and into the toilet and I could smell the pungent salty odor of his piss filling the bathroom. How beautiful and nasty, I thought. I put my finger into the stream and it deflected onto my breasts. Paul seemed to like this. So did I. He then aimed his piss directly onto my breasts and the nasty fluid spilled down my belly and through my vagina. It felt so hot.

When his piss ended, I had a sudden urge. I put my mouth on his spent cock and tasted the remaining drops coming from his piss-hole. It tasted so good. The flavor was just like my pee. Boys and girls have something in common after all.

“That’s a good girl, Amy,” Paul remarked. “I’m glad that you’re not afraid of a little urine.”

“I like the taste,” I replied, “but I’m afraid that I might get sick if I put too much in my mouth.”

“Oh, you won’t get sick,” Paul chucked. “That’s a myth that Puritans started centuries ago. Actually, many people in India drink piss for health reasons. Even Mahatma Gandhi used to drink his own pee every morning.”

My, what a lesson I was getting from Paul. I didn’t feel so abnormal after all.

Then Paul offered to prove it:

“Look, I’ll show you. I’ll get down between your legs and you can pee in my mouth, OK?”

“OK,” I said reluctantly, “But I don’t know if I can.” It felt strange trying to pee in a man’s mouth. I couldn’t do it at first, but after Paul turned on the water in the bathroom sink, it gave me the incentive. As I leaned back on the toilet seat, Paul held my legs apart and waited. I felt so comfortable and relaxed. My piss began to flow and Paul put his open mouth onto my gold stream. He took it all in his mouth, swallowing it as it came. God, what a weird feeling! I squealed and laughed with delight. Then he put his tongue directly on my pee-hole as the piss continued to spurt out. His tongue felt wonderful there. When I finished, he put his tongue deep in my crack and then licked my piss covered clit clean. How nasty!

“See?” said Paul. “I haven’t fallen dead, and your piss tasted so, good,” Paul smiled.

Oh, how I now wanted to taste Paul’s pee. But alas, he had already emptied his load.

“Now I want to show you my last lesson for today,” Paul spoke with the authority of a professor. “I will show you how a man goes number two.”

While my legs were still spread on the toilet, Paul sat his butt on the edge of the toilet and bent over so I could see his backside.

“Put your hands on my ass and spread it apart, Amy.” I pushed his cheeks apart and looked upon his beautiful brown crinkled asshole.

“See that puckered brown spot? Watch closely now.” I watched, fascinated, as a dark brown turd slowly came out and fell between my legs. It plopped into the toilet. The odor was tremendous. It reminded me of the smell of my uncle’s animal farm. I could see the dark insides of Paul’s wide open asshole with another turd beginning to emerge.

“Put your finger in there, Amy,” Paul ordered. I was reluctant at first, but my sexual feelings led me to want it so badly.

“Put it in there, Amy. Don’t be afraid.”

So I put my forefinger inside and felt the hot stinky goo of his shit. I ran the tip of my finger around the rim of his asshole and felt the sphincter muscles close around my finger. I pulled my finger out slowly and the turd came out with it and fell into the toilet. I saw my finger covered with brown goop.

“Oooh, how nasty,” I remarked.

Paul turned around and put my chocolate covered finger in his mouth. He licked it clean and smiled. Then he put his hand in my pussy and fingered my clit, then kissed me on my mouth; I tasted the shit on his lips. I felt so good, and Paul knew it.

Paul then abruptly ended the lesson and told me to get dressed. “You’ve been a good student, Amy. I want you to come back next week and I’ll give you your next lessons.”

I felt so sexually excited that night. I wished Paul had fucked me. Oh, well, maybe next time. I went home and immediately went to my bathroom so I could get myself “off” while I thought about my sex and piss-shit lecture. I want to do everything, just like Paul. I wanted to taste more shit and even drink his piss. I can’t wait for Paul’s next lessons.

My mother made me join the Girl Scouts when I was twelve because she thought the discipline would make me behave. I never wanted to join, but being a kid, I had no choice. Later, I found that the Girl Scouts afforded me a way to escape my house, and the doldrums of daily family life and to set out on my own. All I had to do was put on my stupid green Scout uniform and tell my mother I was going to sell some cookies. Boy, my mother was naive. Instead of going out selling, I’d go out with my civilian girl friends, and that usually meant Judy, my best friend.

Judy wasn’t as sex crazed as me. Her Sunday school lessons taught her to be afraid of life. She thought she would go to Hell if she did anything nasty. I didn’t feel that way at all. After all, why was there so much sex in the Bible, and in religious paintings, I thought. But Judy didn’t mind ‘talking’ about sex and we used to tell each other dirty stories. I never told Judy my filthy experience with Paul, though. I was afraid she wouldn’t understand and might tell her parents or something. But we were both curious about boys and we talked endlessly about them. Once, we even felt each other’s breasts and kissed to see what it felt like for a boy. Judy’s breasts weren’t as big as mine, but I liked to touch them anyway. They were so soft and warm. I wanted to feel her cunt too, but she wouldn’t let me touch her ‘down there.’ I asked Judy to rub her hand on my pussy but she refused. Her religion forbade masturbation, even if it meant touching someone else. Shit. Ironically, Judy loved to feel my breasts. I guess they didn’t teach her about lesbians in Church. I laugh thinking about what she must have thought when she later discovered that her little adventures with me, technically, made her a lesbian. Oh well, I guess she’ll go to Hell, I thought. If it exists, I suppose I’ll go to Hell too. However, I doubt that I’ll stay down there for long. With all the Christians down there, they’d kick me out.

But this day, instead of going over to Judy’s, I intended to go to Paul’s house. It was to be my next lesson in sex. I couldn’t stop thinking about my last visit with him. Every night before I fell asleep, I’d get horny thinking about all the nasty things he did. Even though Paul made me feel like a dirty little whore, I felt a strange thrill whenever I thought about his filthy behavior. At least he seemed to want me, even if it was only for teaching a little girl about dirty sex. And I certainly didn’t mind it at all! Hey, I was hungry for knowledge and you can’t get that kind of education in school or church. What’s a poor girl to do? I still wanted to know what it felt like to “come” with a cock inside me. I had practiced fucking by putting extra large objects in my pussy so that I would be able to take his large cock. That is, IF he fucked me. I also practiced getting used to the smell of poop. While taking a shit, I’d reach under my ass, just like I saw Paul doing it. I’d get a gob of shit on my fingers and put it up to my nose for a sniff. After a while, I got to liking the strange odor. I even licked some of it to become familiar with the taste. I pretended it was Paul’s shit I was licking. I guess it’s an acquired taste, I thought.

Before I went to Paul’s, I wanted to look my best, so I thought of ways to make myself look prettier and older. My mother always scolded me when I put on her red lipstick. She said I was too young to dress up like that. But that didn’t stop me. When she went shopping, I’d sneak into her bathroom and steal her lipstick and makeup. One day she caught me and did a thorough inspection of my room. She took all my makeup and threw it away. The bitch. Now what was I going to do? Then I had a brilliant idea. I know just what might work! I went in the bathroom and got a Tampax roll (one that I had stolen from my mother) and removed the cotton from it. Then I took off my panties and sat on the toilet. I shat in the toilet until a couple of nice little turds fell out. Then I reached in the toilet and picked out the smallest one. I inserted it into the Tampax roll and molded it into a lipstick tip. Then I got out my mirror and puckered my lips. I carefully smeared them with my wonderful new lipstick color. I wondered if Revlon would be interested in my idea. With pride, I looked at myself in the mirror and admired my new look. My dark brown lips not only made me look older, but spunky and sexy as well. I even used my new lipstick as an eyeliner! I giggled with joy.

Since I would need an excuse for going out, I put on my Scout’s uniform over my tank top and white frilled panties. I grabbed some Girl Scout cookies and told my mother that I was going out to sell. My mother stopped me and looked curiously at my face.

“Hold on dear, what’s that on your lips?” she inquired.

I had to think of something quick, so I told her that the Girl Scout Mistress gave us all brown lipstick. Training lipstick. It would color match our uniforms and the brownies and cookies that we sold. I didn’t really want to wear it, but it would help sell our products, I told her. She bought it! I couldn’t believe it as I laughed to myself and walked out the door.

I went straight to Paul’s house. I realized that anybody who might see me at the front door would see my uniform and only think that I was selling cookies. I knocked on Paul’s door and waited nervously. He opened the door stood there wearing nothing but a robe. When he looked at me with those bright eyes, I saw fire in them. I gave him a sexy coy smile.

“Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies, mister?”

Paul smiled back and chucked, motioning me to come in. He locked the door behind us. Paul stood there smiling. “Sure, I want some cookies, but not the chocolate kind.” Then he kissed me and ran his tongue over my lips. He then realized the kind of lipstick I used.

“Oh my, little girl, how I love your shitty mouth,” he responded lovingly. He kissed me again, savoring the flavor of my lips. I felt like I was in heaven.

“Why don’t you get more comfortable,” Paul suggested, pointing to my ugly green dress.

I took off my dumb Girl Scout uniform, leaving my tank top and panties on.

Paul invited me into his living room couch and handed me a tall glass of iced tea.

“You look great, Amy. I’m glad you came learn. I always admire the studious kind.

Then Paul handed me the tea glass and said,

“Drink this, Amy. I want your belly full for part of your next lesson.”

As I drank, Paul put his hand between my legs, spreading them slightly and touched my panties. He felt the wetness dripping from my cunt. I felt breathless, not knowing what he was going to do. He lifted his hand up and I saw my fuck juice glistening his fingers; then he put it in his mouth and tasted it, licking his fingers as if tasting the last remains of food. I could tell he wanted me and I felt that wonderful feeling of sexual heat. Damn, I was horny! Paul went into the kitchen for a minute. I observed the room and the objects of his interest. On the wall were classical and modern pictures of women and men dressed in elegant outfits. I saw a coat-of-arms, a mediaeval looking sword, a statue of, what looked like a goddess, a guitar, and books. Lots and lots of books. There was nothing in the living room that gave a hint of the nastiness that he so enjoyed. He has good taste, I thought.

Paul came back with two more drinks in his hands. He seemed gracious, and polite. He drank along with me and kept reminding me how beautiful I looked. I felt drunk with desire and I desperately wanted him to fondle me.

“You’re still young and impressionable, Amy. You haven’t realized yet that what you think now may not be the best way to reach ultimate pleasure. You’ve been taught, as most people, that sex causes misery and suffering. But I tell you that everything that seems right to you now may prove wrong in the future. There’s a world out there where certain people have discovered the secrets to pleasure. These secrets are not what civil society allows because to accept them would threaten the very structure of culture. This is why, only a few people are allowed into its membership. It must be kept hidden, and held secret from government, religion, and law. You may not realize it now, but black can turn into white and vice versa. What seems good may produce misery and what seems evil may produce bliss. It requires a balance of feeling, of experiencing the body’s sensations to produce a desired result.” I did not know what he was talking about and I actually didn’t care then, but I listened attentively anyway. He continued:

“Some unfortunate souls go through life not knowing why they feel the way they do. Priests, doctors, and teachers will say you’re abnormal and need to be treated. They’ll say you have the devil in you, or you’re mentally or physically sick. Of course the treatments they give always result in abysmal failures because they go against the nature of the human body. I bid you Amy, beware of anyone who says you need treatment. How can something that is within you, that you were born with, and passionately feel, be considered wrong or unnatural? You feel the way you do for reasons; and failure to understand these feelings and to submit yourself to the quackery that society avails you will only make you miserable for the rest of your life. You came from nature, and your feelings come from it. Instead of fighting it, learn to submit to it. Learn Amy. I’ll teach you and bring you to heights you’ve never before dreamed. Don’t feel afraid, I won’t hurt you.

“Tell me Amy, the last time you were here, did you not feel more alive than you’ve ever felt before? Didn’t you think about what happened every single day?”

It was as if he were reading my mind. Being a young girl then I didn’t know what to say.

“Yes, Paul.” Although I did not understand everything he said, I knew I wanted to stay, even at the risk of becoming vulgared out. Anyway, I wanted to learn; I needed to get fucked.

When we finished our drinks, he took me by my arm and led me to his bedroom. In the middle of the room was a card table and two chairs. He sat me down and told me to stay. He left the room for a minute and came back holding a tray in his hands. He had removed all his clothes and, again, I saw his beautiful fat cock, hanging down like a horse. He put small tray filled with several glasses in front of me on the card table.

I saw four shot glasses filled to the brim. The first three had different shades of amber fluid in them. The fourth had some kind of creamy substance in it.

Paul told me that he kept these special drinks in the refrigerator so that they wouldn’t spoil. It was part of the preparation for my lesson. He told me he heated them up to body temperature so that they’d be ready for me to drink. The first three amber filled glasses, he told me, were different flavors of piss. The fourth glass was his sperm. Paul said that it took him four jack-offs to fill that shot glass.

How gross, I thought, but I felt intrigued by this game.

Paul handed me shot glass with the lightest shade of piss and told me to drink it.

Well, if Gandhi could drink it, I guess, so could I. I carefully raised the glass to my lips and took a sip. It was hot and tasted almost like water, except for a sight salty taste. I swallowed it all and licked my lips.

Then Paul handed me the second shot-glass. It had a nice golden color but it tasted much stronger. It was pungent and I could smell the odor of piss. It tasted just like my piss, I thought. I gulped it down eagerly.

The third glass was a dark reddish amber and when I put it to my lips, the smell was acrid and overwhelming. When I took a sip, the flavor was biting and bitter.

This piss tasting game reminded me of my uncle Bob’s beer hobby. He used to give my dad various flavors of home-brewed beer: light Pilsner, amber-wheat beer, and dark Stout. This dark piss reminded me of that awful tasting Stout.

Paul explained the source of his piss-cocktails:

“The light colored piss came after drinking lots of liquid. The second glass was normal piss. And the third glass came from morning piss. I just wanted you to know that the flavor of piss depends on when and what your drink. If you want to be a connoisseur of fine piss-wine, you’ll have to understand these things, you see.”

I was learning fast. I drank the hot dark amber piss and savored the piquant boutique of this fine champagne. I got so horny thinking that this came from Paul’s flesh piss-spout.

Then Paul handed me the sperm filled glass. I sniffed it and it smelled like nothing I could describe. I took a sip. It had the texture of silky oil, and was little sweet & sour. It tasted nasty but, strangely, good. I poured the whole glass of spunk in my mouth and held it there before I swallowed. It slid down my throat and I burped.

“Would you like wine to wash it down with?” Paul asked.

“Yes, please. That did taste kind of thick,” I replied.

Paul came up to me and took my hand and put his cock in it.

“Here, why don’t you drink this fine champagne straight from the spout?” Paul suggested.

I took his cock and put the head of it in my mouth. Paul gave a squirt and the amber fluid filled my mouth.

“Now what kind of piss flavor it that, Amy?”

“It tastes like the medium blend,” I answered.

“Correct,” Paul retorted. “You’re a good student, Amy.”

I felt so proud. I continued to suck Paul’s cock but it began to grow and I couldn’t get any more champagne out. Paul explained that when a guy gets a hard-on, the muscles in the base of his penis close off the piss path and only allows a path for sperm. I felt disappointed, but I understood. However, I was willing to blow him off until he came in my mouth. I liked the way Paul’s cock pumped up and became big. It got so hard and stiff. I gave him a hand job, feeling the tight skin sliding over the shaft. I loved to look at this sausage.

“Milk it,” Paul ordered. I pumped his cock with my little hand, and watched the slit-end of his penis. I put my mouth near the head, so that I might catch his cream as it shot out. I so desperately wanted to see it come out. But before Paul came, he teased me and removed his cock from my eager hand. The told me to take my panties and top off and lie on the edge of the bed. I did as ordered.

Paul took my legs and lifted them up so he could see my pussy.

“Grab your legs, Amy, and keep them up.”

I spread my legs wide and high so he could get at me. Paul kneeled down on the floor at the edge of the bed and spread my pussy lips apart with his large hands. He put a finger in my hole.

“Oh, I see you’ve broken your hymen, my dear. I bet you’ve been fucking yourself, haven’t you?”, Paul kidded me.

“Uh, huh,” I replied. I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to feel.

Paul put in three fingers and spread them apart to see how big my vagina was.

“It looks like you’re ready for your first fuck, Amy.”

I almost came when he said that. Now, I’ll finally get to feel what its like to get fucked by a man, I thought.

“Oh YES, please, put it in me,” I cried.

Paul raised his body and I could see him holding his fat cock in his right hand. He aimed it at my cunt and put the tip at the entrance. Then, slowly, he shoved it against my pelvis. It was so huge. It felt like he was trying to put a rubber bat up my cunt. My lips spread apart and I felt a shock of pain as it entered my insides. Then as soon as it was in, the pain was replaced by a wonderful spreading bloated feeling. My insides were stretched to the limit. As he pumped it slowly back, it reminded me of shit coming out. It was as if I was shitting his cock out, I thought. My excitement grew until I was close to coming. I could see the fire in Paul’s eyes as he grunted with every stroke. Oh, my lovely shit fucker, I thought.

“Oh Amy, I want to come in your mouth,” Paul shuddered.

Then he pulled out and climbed on top of me. Paul straddled my breasts and pushed his cock towards my mouth. I took the stiff shaft and bent it down further so I could see his piss-hole. I opened my mouth wide. I could feel the base of his cock throb. It felt hot in my hands.

“Oh, fuck,” Paul cried. Then a stream of white cream spurted out of the end of his cock and struck the backside of my mouth. It was so hot. It tasted even sweeter than the shot-glass version. I savored the taste and swallowed every drop. I smiled with sexual pleasure.

Paul continued to hold his dick in my mouth until it became soft.

“Here, Amy. You’ll need something to wash that sperm down with.”

After a few seconds, Paul began pissing in my mouth. There was too much if it for me to drink so I let it fill my mouth until it overflowed. It felt good, with hot pee running down my face and neck. Oh, how nasty I felt! I knew then that I wanted to be a whore for the rest of my life.

After Paul finished peeing in my mouth, he handed me a towel and we both got up and dried each other off. I felt so relaxed and sexy. Although Paul had come, I had not yet had an orgasm. I didn’t want to just yet.

Paul handed me a glass of wine and I took several sips to clean out my mouth. By this time I was so full from the tea drinking that I began to feel like I wanted to piss. I didn’t want any more to drink but Paul told me that I should drink anyway and savor the full feeling of piss in my bladder. He told me he wanted to drink me later. I drank the wine feeling anxious for my turn to pee on him.

Paul reviewed my progress. He observed that I had tasted cum, drank piss, and experienced my first fuck, and that I had done very well. So well, in fact, that he graded me as an A+ student. I blushed like an honor student. However, he noted that I had still one important lesson to learn. He explained that the dirtier the sex was, the better one would feel. I had yet to experience the game of shit. I loved it when he said “shit.”

It was only through this experience that I would develop a total gratification of sex, Paul told me.

I felt so sexy then, that I would to anything for Paul. I’d eat his shit if he asked me. He must have realized that by looking into my bright wide-open brown eyes.

“Before I teach you this, Amy, I want you to see how it’s done. I’ll give you a demonstration so you’ll know what to do. Let’s go into my bathroom.”

We entered his bathroom and closed the door. The room walls were white and the florescent lights made it almost blindingly bright. Paul climbed into the bathtub. It was an old fashioned white bathtub with high sides. I noted how clean and shiny it looked and what a shame it would be to dirty it up. He laid, back-down, on the bottom and told me to get on top of him, sixty-nine fashion. I complied by kneeling down on his chest, facing his cock. Paul took my ass and positioned it in front of his face so that my cunt was over his head.

“You must be feeling like taking a piss now, right Amy?”

From all the tea, and piss drinking, my belly was pregnant with piss. I felt so sexy, yet I wanted to pee.

“Yes,” I exclaimed. “I don’t think I can hold it much longer.”

“Go ahead, do what you feel like doing,” Paul replied.

I looked down between my legs and saw Paul open his mouth to capture my pee. It felt so strange. At first, I couldn’t pee even though my bladder was about to burst. Then a trickle came out and I saw the drops fall on Paul’s forehead. God, I wanted to piss so bad. Then it became a stream, Then a flood. It was pouring into Paul’s mouth. I heard him drinking it! He gulped it down as it filled his mouth. God, how nasty it must taste, I thought. He pulled my ass down further so that he could put his tongue on my pee-hole. I felt the tip of his tongue there and the piss splattered in different directions. He lapped it up like a dog.

Then Paul began to pee. I bent down and took his flaccid cock in my mouth. I savored the fluid as it flowed up and splashed against my mouth. By this time there was about a half-inch of piss in the tub. The stench of urine filled the room. I aimed his flowing stream against my face and let it soak my face. I loved it.

Paul was devouring my cunt, putting his whole mouth on my pee-hole taking in every drop. I couldn’t believe how much piss I had in me. Then Paul took his hands and spread my ass apart and stuck a forefinger in my anus. I could feel his finger sliding deep inside me. I could feel a turd deep inside me as Paul played it with his finger tip.

“Go ahead, Amy. Shit it out,” Paul ordered.

“You really want me to do this?” I asked, cautiously.

“Yes, please,” Paul pleaded. “Shit on me!”

I loved the way he said that.

I strained as hard as I could and the turd pushed against his finger. Paul raised his head and put his mouth directly over my wide open anus. I couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was as sick as I was.

Because I was straining so hard, my piss stream flowed stronger. It was splashing against Paul’s neck. I forced my shit out; the turd hit the back of Paul’s mouth. It would go no further. Paul was holding my turd against me. God, how disgusting can he get, I thought. But I loved every whorish moment.

Then Paul moved his head back against the tub; I glanced between my legs. I saw him holding my turd in his mouth like a giant cigar! Then he took three fingers and put it in my ass and spread my anus muscles wide apart. Then he took his other hand and put a finger it between the other fingers. It went deep in my rectum. He reamed it around looking for more turds.

By this time, his cock had grown into a stiff sausage. I looked at Paul between my legs and I saw him staring at my red anus. He let the turd in his mouth fall out and I saw him raise his head to my ass. He put his tongue deep inside and reamed the brown goo. I saw his tongue covered with dark shit.

The smell of shit and piss pervaded the small bathroom. It was so disgusting. I felt like a piece of crap myself. I felt like vomiting. Now I know what its like to be a toilet, I thought. Well, not exactly, but Paul certainly knew, since he was eating my filthy stuff. But as the odor increased, my desire to cum grew even stronger.

I felt another turd coming so I strained so hard that I began to grunt.

“Ohhh shit, Paul: here comes another one,” I cried.

Out came an even bigger turd from my ass; hard and long. Paul took it in his mouth and let it stand in his mouth. God, It looked like a brown cock sticking out of his mouth. It looked so wonderful, I couldn’t resist. I lowered my vagina onto the top of the turd until it touched my clit. I moved back and forth feeling a fantastic glow. Paul got the idea too. He pulled my pussy lips apart and, holding the turd in his mouth, inserted it slowly into my cunt like a dildo. It felt so wonderful and strange! It felt like taking a shit from my pussy in reverse.

He worked the turd back and forth, just like a cock. The shit felt hard and bumpy and I could tell it was deep inside me. Paul smashed the turd with his face until he reached my clit with his tongue. He licked my clitoris with his shit covered mouth. I rode his face like a horse; I moved my pelvis back and forth, massaging his face with my mess. He loved it. I heard him groaning like a pervert. I could feel his cock ready to come.

God, I wished he’d shit on me, I contemplated.

I put my mouth on his erect pissy cock and ate the pre-cum from its tip. With my forefinger and thumb, I spread his pee hole apart and looked inside. He was ready to cum; his cream would come out that hole, I thought. My eyes were on fire. I wanted to watch it spurt out so I could catch it with my mouth. It looked pinkish-red inside. Indeed, it was like a miniature cunt. I put my fingernail into the crack and reamed the piss-hole, in a circle. I wanted whatever fluid comes out that hole: white or yellow; piss or sperm.

I was ready to come too. I came up with a brilliant idea. I put my other hand on his ass crack and felt around until I found his asshole. Then I slowly dug my finger into it and felt the tight muscles surrounding it shut. I put it in deep and reamed the inside in a circular motion. My fingertip found a turd. It felt funny: hard but mushy. I couldn’t help myself:

A bolt of orgasmic lightening jolted through me and I entered ecstasy. Paul came at the same time, and he spent a white stream of sperm into my throat. I tasted the hot cream in my mouth. I swallowed.

Remember that Paul’s mouth was filled with my shit while he shot his load into my throat. Oh, fuck; how unbelievably high this feels. I played with Paul’s shit in his ass, and another bolt of orgasm came.

I pulled out my filthy finger and saw it covered with hot living shit. I couldn’t help it. I put the finger in my mouth and licked it with my tongue. For the first time, I tasted the nasty scat from a real man.

I forced myself to squirt piss: the largest bolt of all hit me and I came again. “Pissing is like shooting sperm for a man,” Paul had told me. I felt like I was spurting sperm. I fell unconscious with lust with the taste of shit and cum in my mouth.

I emerged from my orgasm, a minute later. I did not realize where I was at first. Paul was smiling over me as he washed my body with soap and water. He told me that I had passed the first course with flying colors. I smiled back and kissed him.

I went home that night with a glow that filled the dark sexed night. Before I left, Paul invited me to enroll in his next intermediate sex course.

“Of course,” I told him. “When will it start?”

Paul told me it would begin next week.

I cheerily said: “I’ll be there.”

My therapist and requested that I continue writing about my young sexual experiences. Although I was now in my thirties, I still got a thrill by re-experiencing my debased past. He had read my last two papers and seemed to think that they were helping me with the therapy. I wrote next last paper, continuing my story:

* * * * *
I woke up Sunday morning and realized to my disappointment that I had to go to Church. My mom insisted that I should go to Bible class. I hated going, but what was a little girl to do? I put on my Church dress, a light blue dress, white stockings and black vinyl shoes. My mom curled my hair. I looked so cute and innocent. If only my parents knew how perverted I really was.

I went to Sunday school while my mom went to pray in the church. There were about twenty kids in my class. Mrs. Flowers, our Sunday school teacher, gave us our assignment. We were to stand in front of the class and read a passage from our favorite Bible verse. Shit, I hated to do this. I listened to several kids give their boring prudish readings. When it came to my turn, I did just as I was asked. I went to the front of the room, opened the King James Bible and read from Ezekiel chapter 4:12-13:

“And thou shalt eat it as barley cakes, and thou shalt bake it with dung that cometh out of man, in their sight.

And the LORD said, Even thus shall the children of Israel eat their defiled bread among the Gentiles, whither I will drive them.”

I read part of it again, but with more passion: “…and thou shalt bake it with DUNG that COMETH OUT OF MAN, in their sight.” God, I loved that part. Suddenly the room was dead silent. I slowly looked up and saw a class full of astonished little faces. Mrs. Flowers had her hand cupped on her mouth and eyes wide open in horror.

“Well, you *told* me to read from my favorite verse,” I retorted. “This IS my favorite verse!” I cried. You could hear a pin drop in the room.

“Well, if the Lord tells his own chosen children to eat shit, then isn’t crap good enough for Christians? I logically deduced.

In a huff, Mrs. Flowers quickly ended the class.

What was I supposed to do? Violate the ten commandments by *not* telling the truth? I thought to myself. Sheesh!

That day ended my relationship with religion. It also started the public rumors about my whorish perversions.

Would you believe it, Mrs. Flowers told my mom about my Bible reading. I was grounded for the rest of the day. I didn’t care. I’ll just spend the day in my room doing perverted things, I thought.

I went up to my room and locked the door. I laid down on my bed and thought about Paul. I wondered what kind of lesson he’d give me for my next class. I reached under my bed and pulled out a shoe box filled with my special toys. I collected various bottles, balls and items that I used for sticking up my pussy and ass. I also had a collection of dried beef jerky sausages. I liked the thick kind because it reminded me of a man’s cock. I picked out one of them and pealed off the plastic wrapper as if it were a condom. I put the raw meat in my mouth and gave it a blow job. I pretended it was Paul’s cock. It tasted salty and I imagined it was covered with piss.

I began reading a fuck story from one of my favorite sex magazines. It was about Cleopatra and her sex perversions. When I read about her sex slaves, I took a bite from my cock sausage as if it were a specially prepared cock cut off from a slave bred for just that purpose. Cock meat sautйed with piss. I was Cleopatra and could do whatever I wanted, I imagined. I savored the pissy taste in my mouth. I inserted the bit end into my cunt and let it get wet with my juices. Then I put it in my ass. I could feel a hot stinging sensation in my rectum as the spices mixed with my shit. I slowly pulled it out and put the nasty sausage to my lips. I stuck out my tongue and ran the stick along my taste buds. I could taste my pussy juices mixed with the shit. Cock jerky with fecal sauce, I fantasized.

I wish I could lick my own pussy, I thought. I wondered what it felt like for a man to put his mouth on a dirty cunt. Since I couldn’t lick myself, I did the next best thing. I went to my bathroom and got in the tub. I arched my back up against the wall until my pelvis was over my head. I spread my legs and let my pussy juice dribble into my mouth. Then I relaxed and let the pee build up in my bladder. I spread my pussy lips apart and let the piss flow directly into my mouth. I swallowed. How selfishly perverted I felt; I was pissing on myself!

I was so hot. I wanted to come, but I held off because Paul had told me that abstaining from orgasm as long as possible made the eventual ecstasy more pleasurable. I decided to wait until my next lesson with Paul, and that was five days away. Oh, God, I don’t know if I can hold it that long, I thought. But I did, and I felt glad that I had the determination to do so.

The day had finally come for my next lesson. I had built up such desire, that my every waking moment was consumed by thinking about nasty sex. I rushed home from school, ate my Mom’s dinner in a hurry; then I hurried to my bedroom to prepare myself. I put on my light blue panties and bra; white short-shorts and a dark blue tee-shirt. Sunset came at eight o’clock and I climbed out of my window and ran over to Paul’s house.

Paul greeted me with open arms and a kiss. He led me into his living room and I was shocked to see another girl! A woman, actually. It was the same woman I saw through the window getting screwed by Paul, several weeks back. Paul introduced her as Liz. At first I felt jealous, but when Paul explained the situation, I felt better. She was part of my lesson, I was told. And when Liz came over and gave me a smile and a hug, my jealousy vanished. She was a beautiful brunette, probably in her thirties. Liz sat close against to me on the couch and put her arm around my shoulder. We hit it off immediately. She told me how pretty I was and I could tell by the look in her eyes that she thought I was sexually desirable.

Paul handed us drinks while Liz spoke in a soft sweet tone explaining all the fun we would have. She was so close to me that every once and a while she would lean her body over to reach for something and I could feel her breasts through the blouse she wore; they touched my arm and I noticed how wonderfully soft they felt. Liz explained that she was a registered nurse in the county hospital and loved to play sex games with Paul and other women after work. She told me she was bi-sexual and sometimes wished she had a cock. So did I sometimes, I thought.

I noticed that the living room had been rearranged. The couch and coffee table were moved to the end, which left a large bare central area. There were several cushions and bean bags strewn around the room. Each wall had full length mirrors mounted from the floor up. Paul had put down a clear plastic sheet on the floor. I could only guess what that was for. Several area lights surrounded the room and made it bright. Mozart played on the stereo.

Paul explained that Liz and he would demonstrate the art of lewd love-making. I was told to watch and learn.

“I know you love scat and piss games, Amy. So do Liz and I. People who have such desires give example of the mark of sexiness and intelligence. The Marquis De Sade observed correctly when he said:

“If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure in the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be.”

I got hot just thinking about it. Liz smiled at me and took off her blouse. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She had medium sized breasts with large brown aureoles. Her aureoles looked bumpy, sort of like they had been chewed on or something, which made them even more desirable. Liz asked me if I had ever been with a woman before. I told her I hadn’t but that I loved to watch porn actresses on my brothers VCR. She smiled at that at came over to me and gave me a kiss.

“Would you like to feel them?” Liz asked, offering her breasts to me.

“Umm, yes, very much,” I responded embarrassingly. I cupped my hands on her breasts and felt the exquisite soft flesh.

“Kiss them, if you want,” Liz implored.

I licked around her aureoles and squeezed them with my fingers. I loved the feel of her nipples getting hard against my tongue. I remember wondering what it would be like to suck milk from them. I sucked her breast like a baby and wished I could drink from it.

I was beginning to feel a little playful. I took off my tee-shirt and lowerd my bra and let my breasts plop out. Liz gave a surprised look and squealed with delight. She kneeled down and kissed my breasts.

“Oh, you have a beautiful body, Amy. I know we’re going to have fun.”

Then Paul took off his clothes and asked Liz to join him in the middle of the floor. I remained to the side and watched.

Liz took off her remaining clothes and kneeled in front of Paul. She had a body similar to mine, I observed. Liz took Paul’s flaccid cock in her mouth and sucked on it. It began to grow. Liz took her hand and grabbed the base of his cock and jerked it slowly back and forth. I could see the saliva glistening on the shaft while Liz stretched the skin backwards. She let the cock plop out of her mouth and exposed Paul’s wonderful fat cock to my eyes. She stuck her tongue far out and put her tongue-tip into the pee-slit. Paul’s cock was throbbed at full size attention.

Liz laid back on the floor and lifted her legs wide open, exposing her cunt. Paul took grabbed each of her legs with both hands, spread them further apart, and put his cock head at the entrance of Liz’s pussy. Then he thrust his cock deep inside her. Liz let out a cry of pleasure. He thrust his engine back and forth and demonstrated the art of the missionary position. So *this* is how priests do it, I thought.

Paul screwed Liz in various positions, showing me all the possibilities of vaginal insertion. Liz got on her hand and knees while Paul fucked her from behind. I watched closely as Paul’s cock fucked her cunt while he spread her cheeks and fingered her asshole. I loved the way her cunt juices made his cock wet. Then he fucked Liz from the side while he crudely grabbed Liz’s breast and bit her neck like an animal.

I was so hot. I took off my shorts and panties and played with my breasts with one hand and put my other hand on my pussy. This was like watching a porn movie except this was real and right in front of me. Liz noticed my nakedness and smiled at me.

Then Paul showed me the art of pussy licking. Liz spread her legs apart and Paul got down and kissed around her pussy. Liz spread her pussy lips apart and Paul put his tongue inside. His mouth was smothered in Liz’s juices. Liz looked at me with sexy eyes as Paul tasted her juices. No doubt she could see my excited condition as I fucked myself with my hand.

“Would you like to come closer, Amy?” Liz asked in a dreamy sultry voice.

“Oh, yes, PLEASE,” I pleaded. I eagerly crawled over to her. Paul moved out of the way.

“Be my guest, Amy, if you wish,” Paul offered.

God, did I ever want to feel what a pussy tasted like, I thought. Liz had her legs spread wide for me and lovingly pleaded with her tongue sticking out, to lick her open cunt.

I kissed around her pussy as Paul had done and felt the smooth skin of her thighs. I could smell her heat. I moved my tongue closer to her wet cunt and couldn’t resist: I put my tongue in the flesh of her cunt and, for the first time, tasted a woman. The metallic electric flavor bit into my tongue like an orgasm. I could taste her lubrication juices along with the flavor of piss. It was like the texture of an oyster. I put my lips around her erect clit and sucked it. It looked like a miniature cock. I sucked it like a dick. Liz arched her back and let out a cry of pleasure. I glanced up and saw Paul put his red cock in Liz’s mouth. I could see Liz’s neck bulge out as the fat cock stretched her throat.

Paul pulled out suddenly, not wanting to come at this time. He grabbed Liz’s arms and pulled her away from me because he did not want Liz to come either. I remember feeling so disappointed at having my lover taken away from me. But everyone knew it was for the purpose of prolonging the pleasure so that we could continue our orgy through the night.

I crawled back in my corner and watched the next show. Liz got on her hands and knees in front of Paul. He stood waiting for his cock to become soft. I drank some more wine as if watching a porn movie.

I could tell what was coming next. All of us had been drinking a lot of liquid, and Paul wanted to relieve himself in Liz’s mouth. I put my hand on my pussy and waited. Liz opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. I could see Paul’s cock begin to sag. It was half erect when he began to drip piss. He took his penis in hand and aimed it at Liz’s mouth. The flow began to stream out. It was golden yellow and it filled Liz’s mouth. I moved over to get a closer look. I could see the yellow piss in her mouth. She swallowed it, and moved her mouth closer to his cock to take in more! God, I wanted to taste it too. I moved up close to Liz. She put her piss filled mouth to my lips and I drank the disgusting fluid from her open mouth. We kissed and put our tongues in each other’s mouth.

I knew then that I was bi-sexual, just like Liz. I loved Liz’s body as much as I did Paul’s. I wanted more.

I had drunk so much wine that I was beginning to feel like pissing. Paul noticed my legs moving back and forth. He must have realized my need and handed me a large empty wine carafe.

“Why don’t you pee in this,” Paul requested.

I thanked him and stood up. I spread my legs slightly and put the carafe against my pussy. I let the piss flow while Paul and Liz watched. I filled the bottle to the brim with my amber wine. I could smell my own piss vapors rise from the bottle and noted its strong odor. Liz took the carafe and put it to her nose and sniffed. The she looked at my eyes while she put it to her lips and took a long slow drink of my urine, swallowing it as if it were water. She let some of it spill on her breasts. She spread the piss over her body as if it were a magic fluid. She handed the bottle to Paul and he drank from it also. I wanted some too, so I took the bottle and put it to my lips. God, it was bitingly bitter. I could only take a small sip. I wondered how they could have swallowed so much of my disgusting piss without throwing up.

“Want to see something cool? ” Liz asked as she grabbed for a little black bag. She took out a slender rubber tube.

“This is a catheter that we nurses use for draining the bladder of patients. I’m going to insert it into myself. Watch closely.” Liz was giddy with excitement.

She laid back against a bean bag cushion and put her thighs against her stomach, separating them, exposing her cunt. Paul helped by spreading Liz’s pussy lips apart. Then Liz put the tip of the catheter into her pee-hole and inserted it slowly into her urethra. It must have gone into her belly about ten inches before she stopped. It looked strange with a rubber hose in her pussy.

“It should be all the way in now,” Liz announced, satisfyingly.

Paul showed me the other end of the catheter and I could see it dripping with piss. Then, like drinking from a straw, he put the tube end in his mouth and sucked. He drank it like a soda. Having his fill, Paul handed the tube to Liz. God, she was drinking her own piss and I could hear her gulping it down. I had to have some too. I took the tube in hand and put it to my lips and tasted Liz’s golden nectar. It was so hot and alive in my mouth. I swallowed and swallowed as I stroked my middle finger against my clit. Paul and I drank her bladder dry.

Then Liz showed me the cool part. She took a large syringe out of her nurse bag and inserted the tip of it into the carafe that contained my urine. She pulled the plunger back, filling the syringe with the golden fluid. Then she inserted the syringe tip into the end of the catheter and pushed the plunger slowly, causing my own piss to enter her bladder. She repeated this six times until her bladder was filled again. Then Liz stood up and spread her pussy lips wide. Paul got between her legs and opened his mouth. Liz began pissing and aimed her flow into Paul’s mouth. God, she was pissing *my* urine onto his face. Paul was jerking his cock all the while.

I was consumed with lust. I came over to have my taste. Liz stopped her flow for a moment while I positioned myself to her. I spread her lips apart and put my tongue on her pee-slit and waited. She squirted her piss, well, actually my piss, and I loved the feel of the urine forking against my tongue.

After my fill, I looked around and saw Paul watching the show. He was masturbating, but not in the normal way that most men do. He had inserted the end of the catheter into his pee-hole and was moving it in-and-out. His cock was fully erect and he was fucking his piss-hole with the tube as if it were a miniature dildo!

Liz came to Paul and removed his catheter toy.

“Amy, come here and spread Paul’s piss-hole for me,” Liz requested. I crawled over and put my fingers on Paul’s fat penis and spread his cockhead so that his hole laid wide open. Liz squatted down over Paul’s cock and put her now erect clit directly into the piss-hole and fucked it. Liz’s miniature penis was screwing Paul’s miniature pussy! I couldn’t help feeling amused, yet excited by this bizarre show.

We all took a break and Paul brought out some snacks and drinks. We talked about our dirtiest desires. I told Paul about how much I had thought about my last visit. I couldn’t get over how hot it looked when he ate my shit directly from my ass. I had wondered how it felt and tasted for him. I had always wondered what sex was like for a man, to have an erect cock, to have balls filled with cum and to shoot sperm. I wish I could be a man for a day, just to experience the perversion of a man.

Paul told me how he wished he could experience multiple orgasms like a woman and wondered how it felt being fucked by a hot piece of meat as it pumped back and forth. That’s why he stuck dildos up his ass, and fucked his pee-hole, he explained to me: so that he could feel like a woman getting screwed.

Liz also wondered what it was like for a man. She explained that she requested Paul to save up his sperm for her. She had him masturbating every night into a jar and saving it in the refrigerator. When enough cum is accumulated, she told me, she would heat it up to body temperature and put it in her syringe. Then, just as she did with my piss, she would pump Paul’s sperm into her bladder so that she could piss it out while she masturbated. Paul had explained that shooting piss was like coming except with an orgasm attached. And although one had some control when pissing, when a man cums, he has no control: the sperm just squirts out by itself. Liz wanted to squirt sperm through her urethra just like a man. I told Liz that I wanted to watch when she did it. Liz promised me an invitation.

I told Paul and Liz that I felt like taking a shit. I had not taken a crap for the last two days because I knew that this day would come. Now, I could not hold back much longer.

We resumed our sex orgy. Paul handed me a white plastic bowl and told me to shit in it. I put the bowl down in the middle of the floor and squatted over it, positioning my ass directly over the bowl. Paul pumped his cock while watching this and Liz rubbed my ass cheeks as she observed. I didn’t strain long, because I could feel my bowels empty a slithering load into the bowl. I felt like a dog. It came out like a coiled snake and it filled the bowl. I turned around to view my dark prize. Paul bent down his head to sniff my coiled turd. Then Liz put her face into the bowel and breathed the foul gift. I put my head over the dish and a horrid stench filled my nostrils. I bent down closer and took in the full aroma. My stomach almost wretched.

We were like three perverted animals, sniffing our own excrement. Liz put her hand in the disgusting shit and grabbed a handful and put it on Paul’s chest. She smeared it around his chest and neck.

I sat back and watched this while I fingered my clit. Then Paul took a handful of crap and wiped it on Liz’s breasts. With shit on her tits, he sucked them slowly. He seemed to be savoring the flavor. I could see his cock become erect. He looked over to me and saw me fingering my clit and ass.

“Would you like to feel what it’s like with a cock in your ass, Amy?” Paul inquired. God, I thought he’d never ask.

“Yes, Please, Paul,” I responded excitedly. I crawled over to him and turned around on my hands and knees, offering my ass to him like a cow in heat. While Liz spread my ass cheeks apart, Paul put his fat cockhead against my anus. It was already well lubricated from the shit in my ass, but Liz spat on it anyway.

“Oh, fuck me in the ass,” I cried. I wanted this so much, I remembered.

“Push like you’re taking a shit, Amy,” Paul ordered.

I pushed, and my anus opened up against his cock. I felt his cock pierce my bowels. God, I felt like my stomach would explode. It felt so good.

“Now shit my cock out,” Paul cried.

I was amazed at how much it felt like taking a crap, except that it was more filling and that it was a flesh cock turd that I was shitting out. I looked at the wall mirror and could see Paul ass-fucking me. I saw the cock sliding in and out. The shaft was covered with my shit. Liz put her tongue on the nasty rod and tasted it as it moved back and forth.

Liz began to get sexually turned on and moved to Paul’s ass and put her face between his cheeks. Paul bent over by back exposing his ass to Liz. I was holding the entire weight of Paul as he continued to fuck my shit filled ass. Liz yanked down on Paul’s balls and stuck her tongue in his asshole. She reamed it with crazed perverted enjoyment.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Liz spoke dreamily in her sexy voice as she tongued him.

I heard Paul grunting like a man taking a crap. His ass farted in Liz’s face. I looked in the mirror and saw her breath in the foul air. His ass let out another slurpy fart and a turd came into Liz’s mouth. She spit it out on the floor and put her mouth on his ass, again, for another turd. Paul shat in her mouth again, but this time, she held the disgusting brown roll in her mouth. Paul pulled out of my ass and turned around and put his cock in Liz’s mouth, forcing the turd there to cram deep into her mouth. I turned around to see the show.

Liz was on her hands and knees sucking Paul’s shit covered cock. Her mouth was black with crap. Paul fucked the turd in her mouth with slow strokes. She looked so strangely beautiful. I wondered what it was like, I thought.

I remembered de Sade’s words: “If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure in the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be.” I wanted it to get dirtier.

I went over to Liz and spread her kneeling thighs apart so I could get under her. I positioned my body so that my feet faced Paul and my head was under Liz’s ass. Liz allowed me there and even encouraged me by putting her shit filled mouth on my pussy. I felt her tonguing my slit. I responded by grabbed Liz’s thighs, lifting my head and licked her pussy. I lapped it like a dog in heat.

I was in a similar position that Paul was with me in the tub when I shat on him. I had wondered what it was like for him, and now, here was my chance to find out. I put my head back down on the floor and put my hands on Liz’s beautiful ass. I rubbed the tight muscles of her anus in a circle and remembered how tight it felt. Liz knew what I wanted and responded by extending her anus outward. I felt her anus opening and I put a finger inside.

“Shit on me,” I cried. I wanted it so much. I felt so filthy, like a toilet slut. I reamed her hole with my fingertip. She let out a loud fart and some brown goo blurted out. She looked at me and stuck her tongue out at me, naughty, as if telling me how nasty she was.

I wiped the shit from around her ass. I heard Liz groaning. Then I saw her anus open wider and a turd began to emerge. Oh, God, I wanted it. I watched, fire-eyed as Liz gave birth to a large black turd. It came out slowly an dropped on my neck and slide to the floor. The stench was immediate and filled my nostrils with a disgusting aroma. I picked up the turd and put it on my breasts. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I spread the shit over my tits and absorbed the odor. Then I put the rest of the turd on my pussy so that Liz could taste it while licking me. I wanted to taste it too.

I couldn’t help it. Like a force compelling me without my will, I pulled Liz’s ass down to my face. I stuck out my tongue and put it in her anus. I tasted the repellent scum and licked the goo from around her ass. I put my finger back in and reamed it wide open. I observed the dark red lining of her rectum. I put my other finger in and stretched her asshole wide with my two fingers. I put my tongue in between my fingers and licked the lining. I was in ecstasy.

“Shit for me again,” I whimpered.

Liz’s piss began to flow as she forced her bowels against my mouth. I could feel the tip of the next turd emerging. I became brave. I put my entire mouth over her anus and inhaled, inward, trying to suck the turd out of her ass. I was rewarded with a fat brown turd. It entered my mouth and slid down my throat as if it were a continuation of her rectum. It was too much. I choked and coughed it out. I bit off the turd from Liz’s ass and spit it out. The rest of the turd remained amputated in her ass. I lay my head back down and let her shit the rest of it out. The turd came out and fell on my face, smothering my nose and mouth. It was long and snakelike, coiling around my face like dog shit. Liz continued to piss on my belly. The stench of piss and shit filled the room. It was so disgusting, but I loved every orgasmic second.

Paul got excited at the pile of shit on my face. With both hands, he lifted my ass and put his cock in my shit filled cunt. He fucked me, stretching my young pussy apart. I could feel the shit being pushed against my cervix. The pain added to the pleasure.

In the meantime, Liz took a handful of the dog shit from my face and molded it around Paul’s cock as he fucked me. I vomited out the putrid crap from my mouth and screamed with orgasm.

“Oh, shit and piss!” I screamed. The floor was covered with pieces of our excrement and pee. I could feel I was laying in a pool of urine. Liz opened her pussy to my mouth and pissed in it, offering me mouthwash to clean my pallet. I let her wonderful golden piss fill my mouth.

Paul was ready to cum. He backed out of my cunt and put his cockhead to my pissed filled mouth. His fat cock was covered with shit. He grabbed the shaft at the base and jerked it back and forth. He inserted his cock in my mouth. The piss in my mouth overflowed out. Paul screamed out, “FUCK”, and I felt him piss his sperm in my mouth. He came in ten powerful squirts; the sperm mixing with the piss and shit. Liz was sucking my clit at this time and then I came. God, how I came. It was like electric current pulsing through my body.

Paul smiled proudly at me as he told me that I had graduated.

He drove to the hospital in which she was being treated, and demanded to see her. The staff were reluctant, but finally he was taken to her doctor, who was only too happy to see Michael.

“This,” said Dr Singh quietly, “is one of the most extraordinary things I have ever seen. You had better sit down.”

“It’s okay,” said Michael grimly, “I am prepared for an extraordinary story. Just tell me what happened.”

“Well, she was brought in here yesterday by police who found her lying in a sewer. You may have read about the…”

“I saw the article.”

“Quite. Well, what the article did not say was that she appeared to be heavily pregnant at the time. Yet when she began to deliver…” Here the doctor paused and wiped his brow unhappily.

“Go on,” prompted Michael.

“She … gave birth to some kind of creature that was made entirely of … well, of excrement!”

“Yikes!” Michael was shocked. “Poor Alison!”

“That’s only the beginning. Within a few minutes she had given birth to thirteen other creatures, all identical to the first. In shape they resembled human babies, but they were able to run around on two legs almost from the second they emerged.”

Michael sank into a chair. “Good Lord, this is worse than I thought. What did you do with these creatures?”

“Oh we decapitated them with the biggest knife we could find,” said Dr Singh cheerfully. “That stopped them moving well enough. Then we chopped them up and flushed them. Oh, except one, which we’ve kept for detailed examination.”

“So, is Alison okay now?” asked Michael.

The doctor shook his head. “A few minutes after the last ‘birth’,” he said, “she defecated, and her stool was similarly imbued with a life of its own. We chopped it up and flushed it, but I’m not convinced we killed it - the pieces were all still wriggling when they disappeared down the pan.” He sighed. “A little over an hour later, she defecated again, and the same thing happened. And an hour after that, and an hour after that. Fortunately she’s quite regular - we know when we need to get back in there and capture her expulsions.” He looked at his watch. “She’s due to defecate again in about thirty-five minutes. Heaven knows where it’s all coming from, and I’ve no idea how we are to stop it.”

“I might be able to help there,” said Michael. “I just need to talk to her alone for a few minutes.”

“You mean you know what’s causing all this?” asked the doctor.

“I might,” replied Michael guardedly.

“I hope so, because then perhaps you might be able to explain another mystery for me… Anyway, please come this way. In view of her … unusual condition, we’ve kept her isolated in one of the private rooms. I think she’s awake, but she’s a little weak. She was quite dehydrated when she came in here, and completely exhausted. Here we are - I’ll leave the two of you alone. Come and see me afterwards, if you please.”

“Thanks - I will.” Michael entered the room and closed the door behind him. Alison was awake, and propped up on pillows. She looked pale and tired, but she smiled when she saw her brother.

“Hi,” she said faintly. “I’m glad you’re here. You’ve got to cancel the spell…”

“I know,” he said. “But which spell was it? How on Earth did you get yourself into this mess?”

Alison’s lip trembled, then she began to cry. “I don’t know what went wrong!” she sobbed. “I cast a few spells, but they all seemed to backfire…”

“Hush,” Michael soothed her. “Just start from the beginning.”

Alison closed her eyes and thought hard. “The first one was to cure my … um, constipation.”

Michael blinked in surprise. “Geez, Alison! They’ve got pills for that, you know!”

“I know! Look do you want to tell me off or hear my story?”

“Okay, I’m sorry - go on.”

“Then I cast a spell on my watch to make it keep time properly and wind itself up…”

Michael’s brow furrowed. “How did you do that?” he inquired.

“There’s a spell for giving inanimate objects the ability to move by themselves,” Alison explained.

“Inanimate objects,” Michael repeated, looking puzzled. “That doesn’t make sense - the spell book only deals with the human body…” Then he gasped. “Did it say ‘non-living objects’?”

“That rings a bell. Yeah, probably.”

Michael slapped his forehead. “It’s referring to reanimating the dead, I think. So, well, nothing should have happened, right?”

“But it did! For some reason the spell was cast on my poo!”

“But that’s impossible! I don’t get it!” Michael paced back and forth in thought. Then he stopped. “Just how did you cast the spell, exactly…?”

“The same way I cast the first one. I stood in the circle and focused on my watch…”

“You what?” Michael stared at her. “Why on Earth did you stand in the circle??”

“But I thought…”

“You idiot!” exclaimed Michael. “Any spell that you cast acts upon whatever’s inside the circle! You aren’t supposed to ‘focus’ on the person, or thing, that you’re casting the spell on - you’re supposed to place it on the floor inside the circle! No wonder this has all happened! The only non-living material inside the circle would have been your poo, and probably your urine as well - have you had bladder problems too?”

Alison was looking sick. “Oh my God,” she murmured to herself. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know!” She sighed. “No, I haven’t been having bladder problems.”

“Hmm, that’s a relief. Maybe you can’t animate bodily fluids. So what other spells did you cast?”

“Um, a spell to make Vince Lambert attracted to me.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Which was cast, no doubt, on your poo, which by that time had achieved a certain degree of sentience. What a mess! Anything else?”

“Oh, I cast a spell to make my money replicate itself…”

“Hence the rapid production of your poo,” said Michael, nodding. “Okay, we need to get you home so we can work on cancelling these spells. But, um, you haven’t explained how you came to be in the sewer?”

Alison shuddered and closed her eyes. “I can’t talk about that right now,” she whispered. “It’s just too horrible.”

“All right. You just rest there for a while, and I’ll go and see your doctor.”

He left the room and found Dr Singh.

“Any luck in ascertaining the cause of this problem?” inquired the doctor.

“Kind of. I need to get her home so that I can stop the, um, the production of her poo.”

“But how can you do that? What is causing it?”

“I can’t explain,” said Michael. “Let’s just say that Alison was meddling in things that she didn’t know a heck of a lot about, and only I can fix the problems she’s caused. So I just need to take her home…”

“Do you know a girl named Rebecca Booth, by any chance?”

Michael frowned. “Booth … I don’t know - there’s a family of that name who live just down the road from me - I don’t know their first names though.”

“This would be a young girl of about your sister’s age, maybe a bit younger…”

“Oh, that could be the daughter - she goes to the same school as Alison I think.”

“Ah, yes - this begins to make sense. A few days ago she came in here with an extremely unusual problem - she kept defecating continuously, a never-ending flow that only stopped when we began to operate on her. She appeared to have had some kind of surgery, though none that was familiar to me. Some of her internal organs had been replaced with an artificial system… Did you have anything to do with that…?”

Michael shook his head. “I’m afraid not,” he said. “Honestly.”

Dr Singh narrowed his eyes. “I hope you’re right,” he said. “That poor girl has been through a lot, and I would not like to think…”

“I swear to you!” insisted Michael. “I couldn’t even begin to explain the surgery … I’ve never heard of such a thing. I might, however, be able to do something to fix the continuous defecation - maybe I could go and see her sometime.”

The doctor nodded, unconvinced. Then he looked at his watch. “Ah, it’s nearly time for us to get ready to catch your sister’s latest production.”

“Can you discharge her after that?” asked Michael.

“Certainly not!” replied Dr Singh. “We need to keep a close eye on her here.”

“I can look after her at home,” said Michael, “and I need her there in order to fix her problem.” He knew this was not strictly true, but he did not want the inquisitive doctor to find out anything else from Alison.

Dr Singh was not pleased, but he relented. “Very well,” he said. “But you must promise to bring her back if her condition gets any worse.”

“I will,” said Michael.

An hour later they were back at Michael’s house, only to discover it had been turned into a crime scene. A police car was outside, and there was yellow tape across the front gate. Michael stepped over it and hurried inside, leaving Alison to make her own way. Dressed in her own clothes that the police had brought to the hospital, she felt a little more normal, though when she stood up she suddenly felt very faint. She staggered around the car and mounted the pavement, following her brother.

Michael was by now inside. He found a policeman and a policewoman in deep discussion in the living room. They turned in surprise as he entered.

“Hey, you can’t come in here!” exclaimed the policeman.

“I live here!” retorted Michael. “And … what the fuck?” He stared around at the room, which had been transformed beyond all recognition. The carpet was missing. The pictures had all been taken down and the wallpaper was visibly damp and stained in places. The furniture was piled up against one wall, and its upholstery was missing.”

“Ah, Michael Dawkins?”

“Yes, that’s me,” confirmed Michael absently as he stared around him.

“Good evening sir. I’m PC Barnett and this is my colleague, DC Evans. I’m afraid we have some unfortunate news about your sister, Alison.”

“I know it already,” said Michael. “I’ve brought her home.”

“Oh?” Barnett frowned. “The hospital discharged her already?”

“Yes, she’s fine. Just needs some rest. Now could you tell me what happened to this room?”

“We don’t know, exactly,” admitted the policeman. “But it was a terrible mess yesterday, I can tell you. Covered in shit. The whole house was, actually. We cleaned it as part of our investigation - none of our detectives were prepared to work in here otherwise - but I’m afraid you’ll have to replace a lot of your stuff.”

Michael threw up his hands in despair. “This is a nightmare! Covered in shit, you say?” He frowned, trying to figure out how this could have happened, even given that Alison had been giving birth to creatures made out of poo.

“It’s a mystery to us too, sir,” said the policewoman, speaking for the first time. “When we were alerted by one of your neighbours, we got here as soon as we could, but we found the front door wide open and a trail of excrement leading out of the house and round to the back. The inside of the house was a mess, but it was empty, so we followed the trail and it led us to an open manhole leading down into the sewers. We sent in a team and they discovered your sister after a couple of hours’ searching. But there was no indication of where all the excrement came from.”

“Anyway sir,” said Barnett, “since you’re back here, we might as well be off. Please give us a call on this number” - he handed Michael a card -”if you find anything that might prove helpful to the investigation. In any case, we’ll be in touch again soon. Good evening, Miss. Are you all right?”

Michael turned and saw Alison swaying in the doorway. “She’s fine,” he said quickly. “Just exhausted. I’ll put her to bed right away.”

“Ah, well I hope you have clean sheets somewhere,” said the policeman, “because we had to strip the bed - it was in a disgusting condition.”

“We’ll manage,” said Michael. “Thanks for everything.”

“That’s all right sir. Good day.” He and the policewoman left, and Michael closed the front door.

“Come on,” he said to Alison, “let’s get you upstairs.” He led her up the uncarpeted staircase and into the bedroom. It was in a terrible state, but the mattress, fortunately, was still on the bed. It was still a little damp from recent washing, so he fetched a plastic undersheet from the spare bedroom and laid it on top. Then he sat Alison on the side of the bed and pulled a fresh sheet out of a drawer. Spreading it out and tucking it in as quickly as he could, he then went in search of a clean duvet. He found no spares, so he took the duvet from his own bed and hurried back through to Alison’s room. “Here you go,” he said. “Why don’t you lie down and take it easy, and I’ll go and have a look through that spell book.”

“Okay…” murmured Alison, then promptly fainted.

Michael caught her as she fell forward, then laid her gently back down on the bed. It was then that he remembered the doctor’s words about her hourly defecations. Alarmed, he looked at his watch. It had been almost an hour since they had left the hospital - time was running out. He pulled Alison’s shoes off and then feverishly worked to remove her jeans, unzipping them and pulling them off by degrees (they were rather tight). Then he hesitated, uncomfortable about pulling off her panties.

“Hey wake up, Alison,” he said, but she remained insensible.

Biting his lip, he rolled her over on to her front, in order to avoid seeing her pussy as he took her panties off. But then he started in surprise - the back of Alison’s panties had just begun to bulge, as if pushed outwards from within. Quickly he leaned forward, then took hold of her waistband and pulled it away from her bottom, peering inside to see what was going on.

A thick, brown, soft poo was emerging quickly from between his sister’s buttocks. As it reached six inches in length it began to curl around, forming a growing pile which nestled between Alison’s panties on one side and her bottom on the other. Michael was repelled yet fascinated. Then he shook himself. What was it the doctor had done with the others? Ah yes - he had broken them up and flushed them down the toilet.

But just as Michael was debating how he should pick up the poo without getting himself messy, the object began to move. With astonishing speed, its rounded tip slithered downwards and the rest of it, like the body of a slug, followed after. Michael gasped in amazement and stared as the poo quickly disappeared from view. When only a couple of inches were left visible, Michael swiftly pulled Alison’s buttocks apart to see where the poo was going. As he saw the last little bit vanish into his sister’s cunt, his heart sank. He would have to get it out.

He pulled Alison’s panties off and rolled her on to her back. Gritting his teeth, he lifted her knees up and pushed them wide apart, thus giving himself easy access to her vagina. Trying not to look at her pussy, he gently inserted one finger into her cunt, then pushed it deep, looking for the runaway poo. Perplexed, he inserted another finger and pushed deeper, but to no avail - he could find no trace of the poo.

He withdrew his fingers. What was he to do now? The object was now ensconced deep inside his sister’s body, and was no doubt growing and turning into a baby-like creature. This was not good. Hurriedly, he pulled Alison’s panties up her legs and fitted them back into place. Then he covered her with the duvet and drummed his fingers on the edge of the mattress, contemplating his options. How long did he have before she gave birth? Could he find a spell that would stop the poo’s growth and/or flush it out of her body?

“Michael?”

Alison’s voice startled Michael out of his reverie. “Yes?”

“I’m thirsty - could you get me some water please?” Her voice sounded weary and her speech slurred slightly.

“Sure. And then you must get some sleep.” Michael got to his feet and fetched a glass of water from the kitchen. He took it to his sister and then went out on to the landing to pull the loft ladder down. Climbing up into the loft space, he searched for his spell book but could find it nowhere. Cursing, he realised that Alison must have left it somewhere in the house. And then an awful thought struck him: what if the police had found it, and had impounded it as evidence? A cold sweat broke out on his brow as he contemplated the possible consequences of this.

He descended to the landing, and went into the study. This room was reasonably clean, thankfully. He switched his computer on, then noticed with delight that the spell book was sitting next to the keyboard. Sitting down to wait while his PC booted up, he flipped through the book, looking for useful spells. There was such a thing as a nullification spell, but it only stopped a spell-in-progress. It would not reverse the effects of a completed spell.

His eyes lit upon a spell for rendering a living creature motionless, but after considering this for a minute he discounted the idea - it might stop Alison’s heart, or any one of a thousand similarly awful things. Further reading unearthed a spell to induce the birth of a child, and he almost leaped to his feet and yelled ‘Eureka!’, until he spotted a footnote saying that on no account should this spell be cast on any woman who was less than two weeks pregnant, as massive internal bleeding was likely to result.

He continued through the book, reading and re-reading chapters he thought most likely to contain useful spells, until he was interrupted by a cry from upstairs. He leaped to his feet and dashed up the stairs. How long had he been reading the spell book? Forty minutes? An hour? Was the gestation period so short?

Alison had thrown off the duvet and was staring in horror at her distended abdomen. “You bastard!” she yelled. “How could you let this happen to me?”

“I’m sorry!” Michael cried. “It took me by surprise. I’ve been reading the spell book and…”

“Ow … oowwwww! It’s coming! Get a knife for God’s sake!”

Michael ran downstairs to the kitchen while Alison struggled to get her panties off. By the time Michael returned, the poo-baby was already emerging. With an audible ‘pop’, it slithered out of Alison’s vagina and on to the bed. Michael stared at it in fascinated horror.

“Don’t just stand there - kill it!” screamed Alison at him. Visions of the creature escaping and growing seven feet tall flashed through her mind and her heart raced in panic. “Kill it!”

Michael grabbed the baby’s head and slashed with his knife. It cut through an inch of poo-flesh, then met resistance. Sawing back and forth, he carved through the obstacle and, a second later, the head fell off entirely. “Yes!” he cried exultantly. “Got you, you bastard!”

“Never mind that - just get rid of it!” ordered Alison anxiously, though she was quite relieved to see the creature beheaded.

Michael nodded and carried both head and body through to the bathroom, where he hacked them up and flushed the bits in three batches. Then, while he was washing his hands, a thought occurred to him and he returned to Alison’s bedroom.

“You’re probably due to poo again pretty soon,” he said. “I think you should go and sit on the toilet. Then, when it comes out, it will fall into the water and you can flush straight away.”

“Good idea.” Alison got out of bed and hobbled through to the bathroom. “Did you find anything useful in the spell book?”

“Not yet,” admitted Michael. “But I’m still looking.”

“Well I hope you find something pretty quick,” said Alison, “because it really sucks to have to shit every hour. And it’s not even as if I ever get any warning - it just shoots out of me.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” agreed Michael.

“What?”

“Uhh … oh, nothing, I meant I had figured as much, since you obviously didn’t have time to get to the bathroom.”

She stared at him suspiciously, but decided to let it lie and carried on into the bathroom. She shut the door behind her, then on a sudden impulse locked it. Had Michael watched her defecate while she was insensible? If so, why had he not stopped the poo entering her? It was a little alarming.

She pulled down her panties and sat down on the toilet. Her poo did not feel ready to come out just yet, but it would probably not be long. So she waited. And waited. And then she screamed as she felt herself grasped around the waist and pulled downwards hard. Her bottom fell into the bowl and the edge of the toilet seat scraped up her backbone. Looking down, she saw with horror that a long tentacle, made apparently out of poo, had encircled her waist and seemed to be attempting to pull her bottom-first down the U-bend. This was not about to happen, obviously, but although she struggled mightily, she was unable to pull herself out.

“What’s up? What’s wrong?” asked Michael from the other side of the bathroom door.

“A … bloody tentacle’s got hold of me!” shouted Alison. “I can’t reach the lock - you’ll have to break the door down. Ouch!”

The last exclamation was on account of the sudden insertion of a thick, pole-like object into her vagina. She could not see what it was, but she felt sick as it began to thrust itself in and out of her cunt.

With a loud THUMP, the door burst open and Michael entered. He looked startled as he saw Alison’s predicament, but he quickly grabbed her by both hands and began to pull.

“Not like that, you idiot!” she yelled at him. “Do you want to pull my arms off? Get the knife and cut the tentacle!”

“Oh.” Michael nodded and disappeared.

“HURRY!” she screamed after him as the object thrusting inside her cunt began to pound into her faster.

Michael returned with the knife and, kneeling down next to Alison, he started sawing at the tentacle. Alison planted her hands on the seat either side of her and pushed hard, ready to pop out of the bowl like a champagne cork when the tentacle was finally cut through.

And then the job was done. The tentacle fell limp and Alison hauled herself out of the toilet bowl, falling forward face-down on the floor. Yet the object in her cunt stayed inside her, and as she looked back she saw it was another tentacle, which stretched all the way from her vagina to the bowl and on round the U-bend and who knew how much further beyond? At that moment she felt her insides being flooded with warm liquid which, as it seeped out of her cunt around the tentacle, turned out to be diarrhoea. She yanked the tentacle out of her vagina, noticing with disgust that its dribbling tip was bulbous and penis-like. It withdrew quickly, snaking back into the toilet and vanishing out of sight.

“Whew, thank goodness that’s over!” exclaimed Michael.

“It’s not over you idiot,” muttered Alison. “I’m fucking pregnant again, aren’t I?

“You are?” Michael was puzzled. “But…”

“Trust me on this,” said Alison. “In an hour my belly will be as big as a bus, and you’d better be ready with that knife ’cause there will be plenty of babies to deal with this time.”

“Oh great!” Michael threw up his hands in despair. “How the fuck did this happen? Where the hell did those tentacles come from? Was it the baby we flushed? I thought once I chopped it up, that would be it!”

“It wasn’t the baby,” sighed Alison. “I think it was probably the adults down in the sewers.”

“What? What adults? What??” Michael was bewildered.

So Alison related the entire horrible story of what had happened to her, how she had been held captive by an ever-increasing horde of seven-foot-tall poo monsters who had repeatedly raped her and impregnated her, how she had spent most of her ordeal actually giving birth to the foul creatures, and how they had pursued her to the sewers, where they had held her captive in a pitch-black nightmare for half a day before the sounds of approaching policemen and the flashing of many torches had caused her captors to panic and flee.

“There are at least a hundred down there now,” she said. “Of course I couldn’t tell the police about them - they’d have thought I was mad.”

“Good grief Ali,” said Michael, banging his head softly against the wall. “You really screwed up with that spell book, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, whatever.” Alison waved her hand dismissively. “What matters now is that you find a cure for me within the next hour.”

“I’ll try,” said Michael, sighing heavily. His hopes were not high. “In the meantime, you’d better squat over the bath or something, unless you’ve shit already. Give me a shout when you’ve done something and I’ll come and give you a hand with it.”

Alison nodded. “Okay,” she said and once Michael had left the room she pulled down her panties and sat on the edge of the bath, with her anus overhanging the side by a couple of inches. Anything that suddenly came out of her now would fall into the bottom of the bath and would not easily be able to find her cunt.

Soon enough, it happened. A long, softish poo slithered out of her anus and dropped into the bath, and Alison quickly got to her feet and pulled up her panties. She considered calling Michael, but decided she could probably deal with this herself. She looked down into the bath, where a sixteen-inch-long turd was writhing and wriggling its way along the floor of the tub. It locomoted clumsily at first, then it abruptly changed its tactics and began to stretch out its front end, almost doubling its length, before bringing up its rear in a contractile motion. In short, it was moving rather like an earthworm. Screwing up her face in distaste, Alison reached down and picked it up. It writhed frantically in her grip as she carried it to the toilet, but failed to escape before she dropped it into the centre of the bowl. With her other hand she flushed, and water deluged the hapless poo.

But it was not going down without a fight. Bracing itself against the ceramic sides of the bowl, the tenacious turd valiantly maintained both its integrity and its position despite the torrential onslaught. Only when it sustained a violent blow from a loo brush wielded determinedly by Alison did it finally succumb and begin its journey down into the sewers.

Alison washed her hands thoroughly and returned to bed, hoping that her brother would find some way of stopping her pregnancy before she was due to give birth. Despite her worries, her weariness was great, and she fell into a deep sleep fairly quickly.

An hour later, she woke up with her first contraction. Her heart sank as she felt her belly - it was enormous. To describe it as a ‘beach ball’ did not do it justice. “Michael!” she yelled.

He came bounding up the stairs. “Sorry,” he said, “I think I’ve found a spell worth trying but I was just figuring out if … oh my God!” He stopped in his tracks and stared at her mountainous bulge.

“Get the knife! Hurry - I’m distending already.”

“Let’s get you through to the bathroom - it’ll be better if you can give birth into the bath.”

“Yeah sure, except I can’t bloody move like this,” retorted Alison.

“Sure you can. I’ll help you.” Michael walked over to her and tried to help her up.

“Oww, no stop it! The first one’s coming out, I can feel it. Get my knickers off, could you?”

This was an invitation Michael would never in a million years have expected from his sister, but he obliged nonetheless. Alison spread her legs apart and began to push, as a vile brown head began to emerge from her over-stretched vagina.

Michael picked up the knife, which was lying on the bedside table, and immediately hacked at the revolting infant. It attempted to defend itself, but soon Michael had decapitated it. By this time another baby was well on its way, and Michael despatched it in similar fashion. The third, however, proved more difficult. For some reason, this one was equipped not only with limbs but with tentacles which protruded from the baby’s chest. These tentacles proved surprisingly strong, and Michael struggled with the infant for two or three minutes while it tried to wrestle the knife out of his hand. By the time he had successfully beheaded it, the next baby had been born and was in the process of running out of the room.

“Oh no you don’t!” cried Michael, and he leaped after it. The little creature was agile, though, and when Michael reached the top of the stairs the baby was already halfway down. Here Michael hesitated. He did not dare let the creature go, for fear it should hide out somewhere and turn into a seven-foot adult. On the other hand, the more time he spent on this one, the more babies would be emerging from his sister’s womb.

He who hesitates is lost, he told himself, and dashed downstairs after the poo-baby. It disappeared into the living room and Michael followed it in, closing the door behind him. He glimpsed the runaway scampering behind the sofa, which annoyed him because the sofa had a couple of upside-down armchairs sitting on top of it. He pulled the armchairs off as quickly as he could (they were a fair weight) and pulled the sofa away from the wall, revealing the hiding baby.

Lunging forward, Michael grabbed at the creature but it darted out of his way. It then proceeded to lead him a merry dance around the furniture until Michael began to grow very concerned at the thought of how many more babies would be waiting for him upstairs. Should he cut his losses and abandon the chase? Possibly. But then, all he needed was to close his hand around the little bastard’s arm…

Finally he got hold of it and deftly lopped its head off. Then he ran to the door and flung it open, running through into the hall and charging up the stairs three at a time. When he entered Alison’s bedroom, he was astonished to see that she had been stripped naked, and her wrists and ankles were tied to the four corners of the bed. Two poo-babies were lying across her chest, each suckling on a nipple, while a third was in the process of being born.

“Get them off me, Mike!” wailed Alison.

Michael hurried in, and the two babies quickly climbed off Alison and jumped down on the other side of the bed. Michael tackled the newly emerging baby first, only to find that it, too, was in the possession of tentacles that it already knew how to use. During the brief struggle that followed, the two other babies escaped out of the door.

“Cut me loose!” exclaimed Alison.

“I’ll be right back,” said Michael. “I just have to get those two before they hole up somewhere I can’t get to them.”

“Just face it, you’re fighting a losing battle here,” Alison told him. “Just try to hold them off until I’ve finished giving birth, and then let’s get out of this house!”

“Oh Ali, that’s a bit drastic. Just wait there - I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

The two escapees were well ahead of Michael, but fortunately had left brown footprints that he was able to follow without difficulty. He was perplexed, however, when they led into the living room, despite the fact that the living room door was closed. He turned the handle and pushed, then frowned as the door failed to budge. He leaned his shoulder into it and heaved, and it gave a little, then stuck fast. Shoving even harder, he managed to shift it a bit more. The little bastards had obviously barricaded the door with some of the furniture in there. Their strength surprised him greatly.

However, their barricade was not enough to keep him out. After a few more hard shoves, Michael had finally got the door wide enough open for him to get inside. He squeezed past the armchair that had been braced against the door, and spotted one of the brats immediately. It was standing by the open door of the video cabinet, and it held a videotape in each hand. As he approached, the little creature hurled first one, then the other at him. He avoided the first, but the other struck him in the hip.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, annoyed, and he ran to grab hold of the infant. It hurled another tape at him and then began backing away slowly, stopping when it reached the wall.

Then Michael felt a sharp crack on the back of his head, and he whirled around in dizzy surprise. The other infant was there, on the far side of the room, holding a stack of place-mats in its hand. It had just hurled one of these, Frisbee-like, at Michael’s head, and it was preparing to repeat the performance. Michael prepared to duck as he advanced towards the creature, and then he howled with pain and anger as the corner of a videotape struck him, again in the back of the head. As he clutched at his head with his left hand, he began to be bombarded with missiles hurled with surprising accuracy. His knife was knocked out of his hand and as he went to retrieve it, the corner of a videotape hit the edge of his eye. Sparks flew in his vision, and he slapped a hand to his face as he stumbled towards the door.

He managed to get out into the hall without further injury, and he closed the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to come to a quick decision. The horrible little poo creatures were tougher than he had expected. Maybe he could use something as a shield… Then an idea came to him - the lid of his laundry basket would be perfect. He ran back upstairs and into the spare bedroom, where he grabbed the basket lid. As he ran back to the staircase, he glanced into his sister’s room, where another poo baby was noisily sucking on Alison’s nipples. Yet another was in the process of coming out.

He hesitated a moment, then decided he could probably quickly despatch at least one of these. He entered the room and made a grab for the emerging baby. The one sucking on Alison’s breast jumped back and then ran past him, out of the room. Only then did Michael realise that he had no knife with him. No matter - he would just take this creature downstairs with him and behead it in the kitchen.

“Quick, untie me now!” exclaimed Alison, struggling against her bonds.

“I don’t have time right now,” said Michael. “I’ll return in a couple of minutes with a knife - then I’ll free you.” He dashed from the room, but failed to notice a pile of poo at the top of the stairs until it was too late.

“Bugger!” he cried as his legs shot out from under him and he went flying.

“Ouch!” he complained as his head hit the top stair and bounced.

“Fuck!” he yelled as he tumbled end over end down the staircase.

He did not say anything when he landed at the bottom. He was unconscious.

“Michael?” called out Alison, concerned.

But Michael did not respond. And still Alison continued to give birth, and her progeny grew larger and larger. Half an hour later, the two poo monsters in the living room removed the barricade and ascended the stairs. They were both nearly five feet tall now, and were most anxious to meet their mother.

Alison had just given birth to the fourteenth and last in the brood, and was utterly exhausted. She felt a new poo slither out of her anus and quickly dive back into her cunt, and she shuddered in disgust. Then her two eldest ’sons’ entered the room, and one of them climbed on top of her, its huge erect penis aiming directly for her vaginal orifice. Alison winced as it slid deep inside her, and closed her eyes as it began to thrust. She knew full well that this invasion was not just a vile rape; it was also a sentence of further torment - when the monster spurted its fertilising diarrhea inside her, she would become pregnant with a dozen or so new embryonic poo creatures. What on Earth had happened to Michael?

The horrible creatures were climbing all over her. A baby’s mouth was fastened to each of her nipples, and as one of the larger ones fucked her, the other was sliding its arm into her anus. She winced with pain, but it pushed its arm deeper and deeper until it was buried up to the shoulder. Just then the monster fucking her climaxed and flooded her vagina and womb with diarrhoea, which poured out when it withdrew its softening cock. The other monster now pulled its arm out of her anus and climbed on top of her to take its turn.

And so it continued. As each monster grew big enough, it screwed Alison while the rest of them caressed her body and played with her breasts and her anus and even her mouth. Some of them licked her face, and kissed her, pushing their poo-tongues into her mouth and down her throat. She threw up more than once, and her children delightedly smeared her vomit all over her breasts and torso. And all the while her belly grew bigger, and still Michael was nowhere to be seen.

Until, that is, he reappeared wielding a pair of garden shears. With a great SNAP, he chopped off the head of the monster that was screwing her at the time. By now most of the monsters were adult, and at seven feet tall were both bigger and stronger than he was. But despite their strength, the creatures were neither as bony nor as gristly as a human, and the shears made short work of both limbs and necks.

Michael advanced like the Angel of Death, scissoring the shears with devastating precision as the monsters fled in terror before it. He beheaded three before the rest made up their tiny minds to keep well out of his way. Soon his route to the bed was cleared. He deftly cut through the ropes binding his sister, and she climbed with some effort off the bed.

“Thank God,” she muttered wearily. “Where the heck have you been?”

“I was knocked out,” he replied shortly. “When I came to, I went out to the shed and found these. I figured they would work a treat.”

“What’s the plan?” asked Alison.

“We get in the car and drive to the hospital as quickly as we can.”

“Okay.” Alison grabbed her bathrobe and flung it on as she descended the stairs. The front door was wide open and she headed straight for it. Just as she reached it, however, she screamed as a seven-foot poo monster charged out of the kitchen towards her with its arms outstretched. She tried to run, but it grabbed the back of her robe and brought her up short. Thinking quickly, she slipped out of the robe and continued running, naked and poo-smeared, towards the car. Michael had left the passenger door unlocked and so she climbed in and locked the door. The frustrated monster began to pound on her window, but before it had a chance to break it, Michael had appeared with his shears. A great ugly brown head dropped to the ground, and the body of the beast crashed down after it.

Michael got into the car and started the engine, even as the monsters surrounded the car. He accelerated and knocked one of the creatures down, running over it and then turning sharply to head down the road. The monsters tried to run after the car, but it was useless - Michael and Alison had escaped.

Ten minutes later they were on the motorway, heading for the hospital through the semi-darkness of the August late evening. Alison had been obliged to push her seat back and recline it as much as possible - her belly had reached enormous proportions.

“Geez, you look like you’re about to explode,” observed Michael, looking down at her in concern.

“Oh shit Michael - the first one’s coming…” Alison lifted up her knees and spread her legs wide.

“Well I’m not stopping now,” said Michael. “Try to hold it in for a bit longer.”

“You idiot, I can’t!” Alison began puffing. “Here it comes!”

A head appeared and, a few seconds later, a new baby had dropped on to the floor. It kicked its legs and waved its arms aimlessly for a few seconds, then it rolled over on to its front and got to its feet. Alison could not see it - her enormous belly was in the way, but she screwed up her face in disgust when it began to lick her clitoris.

“Can’t you do something about that?” she complained to Michael.

“Not while I’m driving. Can you open your window and try to throw it out?”

“I would if I could reach it,” she replied.

“Okay, I’ll try,” said Michael. He opened his window, then reached down and grabbed the infant. It wriggled in his grasp, but it was, as yet, too weak to cause him much trouble. He hurled it out of the window, then cursed as he realised it had grabbed hold of the top of the glass with one hand and was now hanging on for dear life as the wind buffeted it about.

“Hasta la vista, baby,” he muttered as he wound the window back up. As the gap closed on the baby’s fingers, there was a nasty squishing sound. But the creature did not fall. It was now holding on to the wing mirror with its other hand. With surprising agility, it swung itself up on to the bonnet and threw itself against the windscreen. Michael swerved about in an attempt to dislodge it, but this merely resulted in the creature sliding about and smearing poo all over the glass.

“Fuck!” exclaimed Michael, slamming on the brakes. He could not see a thing, and since he had been swerving so much he was now not sure in which direction the car was pointed. This soon became clear, as the car crossed the hard shoulder, bounced up on to the kerb and smashed into t