Lonely Angels

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Fantasy creatures give a man an outlet for his fetish.
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Lonely Angels

I was more than a little unsure about the building two doors down from the multi-story brick complex I worked in. It was hard to guess what it was supposed to be. There was a bracket and pole mounted to the building which held a sign that said, "LONELY ANGELS." I walked past the place every day on my short route home.

More than once I had noted a woman standing in the shadow of the building as I passed. I didn't know her name, but even the first time she saw me and decided to say hello, she addressed me by my given first name, Tate. I said hello in return but continued on my way.

Today as I left the office building there was a woman who I was aware worked on the same floor as me, but in a different set of offices, sitting on the bench to the immediate front and left of the entrance. She was apparently just finishing a conversation by text, and stood as she put the phone back in her pocket. She said hello, so I returned the greeting and continued down the sidewalk. Discreetly I took note that she entered Lonely Angels.

And I also saw the other woman outside the door that I had seen in the recent past. She grinned and waved as I passed. This was Monday. As I continued my routine all week, I kept seeing both women. On Thursday evening as I left, a co-worker caught me and asked a question, which I briefly answered for her, and gave a little extra helpful input. We parted ways.

Today, the woman from my building joined me on my walk, and said, "Hi, Tate." She had picked up on my co-worker using my first name. I returned the greeting. As we kept walking, the fire hydrant two feet in front of me blew its top and sent a geyser of water skyward. I didn't stop, but I got pretty wet in just a second or two. I suddenly felt a pair of arms hug me from behind, and I turned as the woman from my building held me.

I watched as she let two huge feathered wings sprout from her upper back. One shielded the immediate right, and the other became an umbrella over both of us.

The woman said, "Walk. In the building. Go." She directed me carefully, leaving her arms around me. The other regular Lonely Angels woman opened the door. We stepped in and I turned to see a utilities truck make an abrupt stop near the hydrant to deal with it. My new friend let her wings drop. The first thing I registered was the dim interior of the building. Then I stared openly at the woman's relaxed wings. Thirdly, I noted her ears, basically teardrop shaped, decidedly pointed at the top.

I looked between both women and noted the other also had the same ear structure. Elves, I thought. The woman from my building sported gray hair, styled like the TV character Elvira's bouffant. The top was combed smoothly to either side, but no visible part in the hair. Where that character had long hair otherwise, this woman had the bouffant style everywhere. The back portion was straight, coiffed as it rounded away from her head a bit. This portion reminded me of the average pixie cut style. The woman was only about five-two. I guessed she was somewhere in her forties. She was actually older than that, but looked somewhat younger.

Both women shared a very similar build, although the second was a couple inches taller than my newest friend. Both had stout figures, easily a couple feet wide if you measured straight across at the waist. This meant that their butts were equally wide. The gray haired woman's had more bulge. Each of them had just a slight belly bulge in their broad torsos.Both women had round breasts filling out their chests. Both had brown eyes. The gray lady seemed a bit more serious than the other lady, who had an easy demeanor and a ready smile.

The second woman had long hair, dyed cotton-candy blue. It hung down beyond her generous butt. One layer sported a broad, tight braid. The rest hung smooth and straight, gleaming even in the dim lighting.

The blue-haired woman introduced herself as Ruby. My gray-haired friend followed as Ruby led me to a private room space, with some furnishings and a huge flat-panel TV. Ruby left momentarily to get me some dry clothes. When she returned she offered to put my current clothes in to wash and dry, and I accepted. I took the offered clothing and everything fit well after I had showered.

The gray-haired woman was Ellie. She seemed almost shy. As I was drying after stepping from my shower, Ellie entered. She removed her jeans and pulled her panties down, then sat carefully on the toilet. I stared openly at all her naked parts, fixating on the graying bush above her pussy.

Ellie proceeded to pass gas on the toilet. Big, long, steady rumbles made moderate echoes into the bowl. She unleashed four in total, three of them nearly ten seconds long. The final one was a short blast that made Ellie sigh. Truthfully, my dick was semi-hard ushbehind the towel. Ellie washed her hands and departed.

Now back out in the main space, Ruby informed me that if I wanted food, there was a kitchen that offered common entrees, including breakfast items. I made an order and Ruby returned in fifteen minutes. She gave me some insight on Ellie while I ate.

Ruby said, "I know she's shy. I also think she's kinda lonely. It doesn't always show or be constantly obvious, but I think that's another big part of it for her.

Ruby continued, "My niece started this business as a club. You can't really say "gentleman's club, because women are welcome to be here, and they do make up a chunk of the regular patronage. Ever since the business started, my niece wanted to cater to disabled persons. She herself has mild cerebral palsy. On the same token, the entire working staff features elves and some mildly disabled staff. We do dive into some kinky stuff here."

There was a long pause. Ruby said, "One thing that has become a fixture is toilet fetishes, which do include gas, peeing and pooping. In light of that, Ellie is our oldest pooper. Several of the staff here really wish they could meet someone who would become a regular partner, short-term, long-term or even permanent. Ellie has no problem being an exhibitionist, but I think having a permanent partner is what she really wants. But she has to meet the right type of person and hasn't yet. I think a lot of our customers are scared of her because she's a big girl and has gray hair. Most of them don't have a "mature woman" fetish, if you will. It's like, 'I don't wanna sexually please an old lady,' you know."

She paused to sip her beverage and went on. "I think she just kind of creeps people out. But she's just shy, not weird in any way, out in the real world. And she's only fifty-one. Sexually oriented things are still very possible, and they interest her."

As Ruby finished, I noted to her, "Ellie came and sat on the toilet as I was drying off. Gas," I said.

Ruby grinned at me, then laughed. " Really?" she said, raising her eyebrows at me.

"Yeah," I said. "I got kinda hard behind the towel." I watched Ruby belly laugh at this admission.

Then I asked a question that was pure curiosity.

"Are you all elves here?"

She answered, "We are. Pointed ears. We all each have wings, too. So that's where part of the business name comes from. But we don't only have a paying clientele of our own type. Regular folks are welcome here, though I suspect some think elves are weird, let alone elves with wings."

"That last part is likely," I agreed, "though not necessary."

I left money on the table to settle my tab and got ready to leave. "Can I come back tomorrow after work? I'll probably go home and shower first."

"Sure," Ruby said. "I know Ellie will be here, and she probably will welcome seeing you again. And maybe you can meet my niece."

So I pushed through another workday at the publisher's office. As I left for the day, I encountered Ellie. I told her I was going home to shower and then coming back to Lonely Angels for a while. She grinned, saying, "Can I walk you back here?" I agreed. We made it to my house and I took fifteen minutes to shower and dress fresh.

We left. Once we had crossed the busier of two intersections, Ellie informed me, "Tate, I can't stand it anymore. I've noticed you for a while now and I really want a disabled partner to work with at Lonely Angels. I want to pass gas and poop for you." We had now reached the entrance to the club. She stopped and stood in front of me.

"I like naughty. I want you to tolerate all my dirty things. I want it dirty," she told me.

"Are you going to be mean to me? Hurt me? Force me into things?" I asked her.

She responded, "I will probably force things a little bit. But I won't hurt you. I don't even know about mean. "Stern" might be a better word. If I do something Ruby or her niece don't like, I know I'll be punished. Not fired. They like punishment better."

Ellie held the door and we entered Lonely Angels. Ellie let me have a key card to a private space and told me she would come to my table a bit after dinner.

I went and found a table. Ruby came around a corner into the room at full speed. She decelerated and took a pan around the room. She spotted me and beelined for my table. She asked if I wanted to eat, dropping a menu on the table. I ordered the grilled chicken sandwich, French fries and peanut butter pie for dessert. Ruby put the order in.

A gorgeous brunette stepped from behind the bar and wandered in my direction. I spotted her elf ears, because her hair was pulled into a ponytail. She was five-four -or five. Her hair was the rich, deep brown of dark chocolate. She was chunky, broad like Ruby, with a relatively mild tummy bulge. Her eyes were green. She had a big rump like her aunt. Her breasts were big bowling balls.

I noticed her mild limp as she pulled up at my table. She asked if I wanted something to drink, and I ordered a flavored sparkling water I knew the restaurant stocked. The woman retrieved it and returned, the bottle suitably cold. As she let it hit the table, she said, "You must be Tate."

I nodded in the affirmative. "Might you be Ruby's niece?" I asked her.

She nodded. "I'm Pixie. Yeah, my parents named me after a fictional creature," she admitted.

"Nice to meet you. Ruby said this is your place," I told her.

She smiled. "Three years now. Hummin' right along. People here every night of the week." She paused and then noted, "You got food coming?" I confirmed that Ruby had an order in.

"Can I come back once you dig in?" she inquired.

"Sure," I said. She grinned, turning to make her way back behind the bar.

Five minutes later, Ruby showed up with my food. There was a covered tray that must have held my dessert, probably chilled to keep it cold. The burger and fries landed in front of me and Ruby sat herself next to me. She pointed at the bottle of sparkling water. "Pixie brought that?" she asked. I nodded.

"Cool," she said. "Um, I was wondering if you might be up for a poop session tonight," she said quietly. "Later, though."

I paused, weighing what she was actually saying. She wanted me to sit with her while she pooped. And things might easily progress beyond that. Maybe she was hoping to have more sessions. Maybe she wanted to poop on me.

"I guess I can try. Your niece was going to come back over and talk to me too," I said. Ruby smiled and said she would leave me in peace to finish my meal. In another ten minutes, I was ready for the finale, the pie. Pixie came over to check in, and she took my burger plate and fry carrier away. She returned and sat down. She had a second fork and she lopped a bite off the side of the pie slice.

"Perk. The nice customers have to share a little dessert with the house staff," she said. I grinned.

There was a lengthy pause. "Hey, Tate? Did Ruby tell you the unique stuff we get into here?"

I let a little silence sit. Then I told her, "She said it was one of your goals to provide an environment for disabled people. That some of the staff personnel were hoping to meet people they could form good sexual and fetish relationships with. Ruby wants to poop for me later."

Pixie grinned, letting loose a shaky sigh. "Do you think you could let me poop for you in just a little bit?" she asked.

"I think it might not be considered fair if I didn't," I said to her. "Are your legs gonna be okay to sit together on the toilet? I won't hurt you without knowing it?" I asked.

"We'll be just fine," she confirmed. "You could easily sit on my lap or between my thighs for an hour. Now, I weigh a buck sixty. When we're done on the crapper, can I sit on your lap, even if it's just a few minutes?"

I said, "You are a pretty lady. I think we can try it."

She smiled. "Okay, cool. I'll leave you alone for a bit and come back to collect you." She touched my shoulder and let her hand drift down my arm, then wandered across the room and disappeared. For the next five minutes, I thought about Pixie's massive, long pony and her pretty features, and what it might feel like to have her big tush on my lap.

I saw Ellie coming across the room next. She said, "I saw Ruby bring your food. Then Pixie brought your drink." There was a long pause. She continued, "Can I poop for you around maybe nine or ten tonight?" she asked quietly.

"I can try it with you. Pixie wants to be first, and Ruby said she wanted a session in a while," I told her.

"Best for last, then," Ellie noted. "We'll pass some fairly noisy gas. It'll smell like eggs. Then I'll drop a nice big log and let you have a look. The smell will be very noticeable as far as the gas, but it won't make you bail. Pixie will probably have heavier eggs to give your nose. See you later, okay?" Ellie smiled, genuinely happy, and wandered back to the stage area.

A twenties or thirties guy she passed stared at her, and she doubled back. I watched her peel her jeans off, no panties underneath. AC/DC was on the speakers, and she clapped ass and told him to lean forward. He did, and she looped his arms around her waist, letting him hug against her ass and feel the soft mass. He smiled, fanning three dollars out of his pocket for her.

Fifteen minutes later, Pixie returned to my table. "You wanna come with me?"

"Time to be kidnapped," I joked. She laughed. I showed the card Ellie had given me earlier and Pixie nodded as we got away from the table. She led the way toward the personal session spaces. As we entered and things quieted, she said, "All right. You know what Cream of Wheat cereal is?"

I said, "Fine textured, kinda like grits, but thicker and not much taste. White. You eat it hot."

She proceeded to get naked, and told me to do the same. I obliged. I stared at her magnificent chunky womanhood and lusted after her ass. She went to a cupboard and found a Solo cup. She squatted and covered her asshole with the cup. Ten seconds passed. She brought the cup over and tilted it. "Brown Cream of Wheat," she told me. There was a moderate egg stink wafting off the cup. It was two-thirds full.

She said, "I'll drop a turd, then there'll be more of this for a few minutes."

I said, "You okay? You don't have digestive problems if you poop like that?"

She said, "At least you asked. It's my elf digestion. It just breaks things down more. It exits in that wet, thick form. There's no harmful bacteria in it like a human turd."

"Would it be alright if I asked you not to dump like that if you want to keep working with me?" I suggested.

Pixie said, "Fortunately I do have control over forming it. But it means that my regular turds are two feet long on average. But I get it. It's undoubtedly gross, for the most part. We can steer clear if it means you want session time with me," she finished.

Without more delay, she lifted the toilet lid and sat down. I went over slowly and she eased me between her tanned super-thighs. She lifted her brown ponytail forward and dropped it over my torso. The weight surprised me. I held the end in one hand, keeping it clear of the toilet bowl. Pixie grinned, dropping one arm and resting a splayed hand on my belly.

"It's gonna smell. Pretty heavy, but it won't make you cry. Or run away," she told me.

Pixie gassed, rumbling noisily. Everything sounded like a ship's foghorn, with a moderate echo into the bowl. And the smell was heavy eggs. But I tolerated it. Then there were big, steady buzzes that echoed easily. Three of these made Pixie's torso bounce behind me. She told me it was all due to exiting pressure. The egg stink was always present if she was tooting.

My cock was semi-hard, and I started relishing the feel of Pixie's body behind me. Such a pretty face. All soft and warm. And that smooth, gorgeous hair.

Done gassing, she tensed slowly and carefully, laying one constant push. I sensed her anus gaping wide, and I turned as her eyes widened. For more than five seconds, I could hear the gentle squelch as the turd grew bigger. There was a pronounced splash as it finally dropped free, into the water. I swear I felt Pixie's belly deflate a bit.

The heavy sulfur odor returned. Pixie cuddled me. I smiled, and her fingers danced on my tummy. I asked if I could have a look, and we moved carefully off the toilet so I could see her turd. It was dark and very probably more than a foot long. It was dense and heavy looking and relatively straight. It still smelled potent.

We resumed our cozy position on the porcelain. I heard thick wetness gently slapping the water in the bowl, until there was enough of what Pixie called "elf mush" to displace water and I could hear it piling on itself, loading the bowl. Powerful eggs filled the immediate space, and I tilted my head down to see steam rising from the bowl.

"My ass is warm," I told Pixie, and I heard her giggle. Hearing the bowl fill and smelling the stink, and knowing that the drop-dead gorgeous Pixie was responsible, made my dick hard. It almost hurt, and I told her I was ready to fire away. Pixie dumped one more dose of elf poop, letting her odor turn wicked.

She turned my face into hers and glared at me. I eased her pony onto my thighs and played with my dick. I laid a naughty ribbon on her hair, gasping at the power in the release. Thirty seconds later, I pissed hard, soaking six inches of her hair. Pixie lifted me, clapped her thighs tight, and sat me back down. She proceeded to shake and quiver and tremble for two full minutes before she gasped and squirmed. She stood the two of us up, spread her legs, and proceeded to shoot thick white cum onto the floor for ten seconds. She whimpered, easing back down to the toilet. The air smelled of strawberries for almost a full minute.

"It smells like strawberries when you squirt," I pointed out.

She laughed. I wondered if she was physically spent. But she said, "Yummy elf pussy, honey." It was my turn to laugh, and she made sure I didn't fall off the potty.

"It doesn't taste like strawberries," I told her.

With an absolutely straight face, she said, "Sure. It most definitely does." Very carefully, she leaned down and dipped a big dollop of pussy onto two fingers. She put them near my mouth and said, "Go on. Taste me." I opened and her fingers went in. I licked them clean and tasted the sweetness of berries.

I gaped at Pixie. "You want a spoon?" she asked, grinning.

I looked at the floor, and said, "I hope you don't mean that. What a cleanup."

I took one long look at the heaping helping of elf mush that had half-filled the toilet. Pixie flushed, then spent ten minutes making sure the bowl was clean. She texted Ruby, who sent a text to a staffer to complete the cleanup as Pixie and I finished a fast but thorough shower. The unlucky party was a five foot elf lady with a pink bob cut. She grinned at Pixie when she walked in. The two shared a long hug. The five footer kissed Pixie full on the lips. She marched to the bathroom with a mop and bucket of water with cleanser.