The Toilet Club Ch. 21-22

"Yes, M'am! Thank you, Aunt Meg!"

Given half a chance, Mike was prepared to worship every inch of Meg's spectacular body. He was curious to find out if her rump smelled and tasted any different from Aunt Susan's. He positioned himself between her outstretched legs and lovingly stroked and fondled her cheeks. Jeez, they were just so fleshy and very smooth. Unlike Aunt Susan's natural look, there seemed to be an absence of any hair whatsoever, no pubes, no peach fuzz, no nothing!

He positioned his hands on either side of her butt crack and pried it open, reveling in the sight of her rather gnarly anus. While Aunt Susan's sphincter had had a cute pink starburst appearance surrounded by a bevy of little hairs, Aunt Meg's shit-hole had a muscular looking ridge around it, darkly toned and textured, as if purposely left uncleaned. Of course she'd had a sausage stuck up it for their drive to her place, and the thawing meat had produced its own juice and then dried once the meat-stick was retrieved. But whatever the cause, licking it and sticking his tongue in there was going to be intense. Best get to it.

Unlike Aunt Susan, who was given to little squeals of encouragement, Aunt Meg maintained an unnerving silence, as if judging his performance against strict standards of sexual effect. But gradually, as he licked her diligently up and down her crack and round about her anus, she began to utter deep groans and grunts. He sucked hard on her sphincter, working to break down its crust and allow his tongue to penetrate into it. He had to remind himself that this was not a Toilet Club meeting. Meg and he were not pledged to mutual acceptance and fulfillment of each other's desires. Aunt Meg was running this show and her satisfaction was the foremost goal. Her rewards for him were contingent on his success in serving the Divine Feminine, which seemed to amount to getting her off. He doubled his efforts, plunging his tongue as deep as he could into her rectum.

* * *

Meg Novak was deeply savoring Mikey's efforts to worship her bottom. She didn't want to reveal that fact, of course, as it was best to keep him on edge. But he was really doing a splendid job for a beginner. She had to hand it to Susan. She had obviously mentored the lad into giving his all in eating women's asses. He was well on the way to his initiation into the Feminine Mysteries. But much remained before he'd be fully broken in and a humble servant of the Goddess. Meg was determined to push things along as much as possible before Susan showed up tomorrow. Susan, her BFF, was such a softy, bless her soul, but Mikey needed some Tough Love if he was truly going to learn how to satisfy women. Still, his tongue within her rectum was just exquisite. Carry on, young man. Carry on!

* * *

Susan Compton got off work at the Rite-Spot at 3:00 and dawdled around downtown for awhile before heading home. As usual, her feet were killing her and Mikey would not be at home ready to massage and sooth them. A mani-pedi at her favorite nail parlor was the next best thing. She could recline in their comfy vibrating chairs, and let her feet soak in the pleasant warm water, before they re-worked her toes.

Funny how Susan had rapidly become addicted to Mikey. He was such a thoughtful lad, filled with love for her, and tuned into their mutual attraction to the "toilet thing". The house just seemed so empty now when he wasn't there.

No, he was up at Meg's place, probably being put through the paces as Meg "broke him in" as she euphemistically described it. Susan well knew what that meant, as Meg had run her through that meat-grinder a good while back. It amounted to grooming naïve submissives to serve her depraved desires under the guise of ushering them into the Feminine Mysteries.

Susan was willing to grant that there was a Divine Feminine at work in the hidden order of things, but she was certain that Meg did not have a monopoly on accessing it nor on leading innocent initiates into its Mysteries. All that was Meg's hubris at work. Susan hoped that when she arrived at Meg's place on Saturday, that Mikey would not have been utterly sucked into Meg's dark magnetic field. Her dear nephew was just so earnest and sincere, endearing qualities that she feared Meg would exploit to the utmost.

* * *

Little did Susan realize that at that exact moment, a very eager Mikey was far gone into communing with Meg's bowels, deriving deep satisfaction from tongue-fucking her odiferous anus and working on his brown-nosing skills. He was justly proud that he had succeeded in pleasing Aunt Meg to the point that she was squirming around and pushing her rump forcefully into his face, while breathing heavily and emitting loud grunts. He was determined to make her cum like gangbusters and earn a new reward. He wondered what it might be.

Meg Novak could feel her passion rising to an almost mind-bending high. Her young guest had a natural gift for servicing her desires in a most stimulating fashion, and she was a little worried that she might succumb to one of her infamous trance states where the Divine Feminine "rode" her like a Voodoo goddess and occupied her physical shell, causing her to do the most shocking things. The last time that had happened, Meg had woken from her trance to discover her chosen boy-toy crouching naked in the far corner of the room, pissing and gibbering to himself with his eyes wide with terror. The poor lad had to be institutionalized and even a year later was still mentally scarred by the incident. No! Things must not spin out of control like that with Mikey! Suze would never forgive her and, worse yet, any further access to his charms would be forbidden.

Meg willed her attention back to the seat of her pleasure and the wiggling tongue performing its dark worship. She could feel a wave of bliss radiate from her anus and spread through her body. She clenched her sphincter and let the orgasmic wave overtake her. Mikey could feel his tongue trapped within her hole as her buttocks hugged his face. Then suddenly Meg sighed and relaxed, letting her intestinal tract shift and Mikey squealed as a pebble-textured turd forced itself into his mouth. Good God! She was shitting directly into his mouth, filling it with her dank turds until there was no room left for more. Mike broke off and quickly rose on his knees, panicked that his gag reflex might be overwhelmed and he'd find himself helplessly swallowing Aunt Meg's fetid waste. He stared at Meg helplessly, unsure of what to do. She looked back and spied his dilemma.

"Oh dear. Sorry about that, Mikey! No, you don't have to swallow it. You can run to the bathroom and spit it into the toilet. I guess that's your reward for making me cum!"

Mikey took off like a rabbit, cupping his hands over his mouth, his cheeks bulging and his eyes watering. He flipped up the toilet lid and dropped to his knees, spitting out the dark brown mass into the toilet bowl below. He felt himself on the verge of vomiting, but somehow controlled the reflex and continued to spit out the sticky residue. Whew! That was intense.

He got up and staggered over to the sink, taking a swig of mouthwash and swirling it around and expelling it. He repeated the process as Meg entered and glided over to the commode. She gave him a sheepish grin as she sat down on the seat and resumed her interrupted defecation.

"Sorry, hon. That was not part of my plan, I swear. Though from the looks of things, you seem to have rather liked it."

Mike looked down and realized his boner was as hard as ever, dripping pre-cum and betraying his depraved desires. Mike could hear Meg fart as a few more turds dropped on top of the ones already in there. Then the hiss of pee completed the scene. Meg and Mike just grinned at each other guiltily. It was time for a little breather, before they moved on to the next item on Aunt Meg's agenda.

By now, Meg had tired of her leather boots and top. She encouraged her young guest to assist her to fully disrobe, a task he embraced with rampant enthusiasm. Aunt Meg offered Mikey a cold glass of ice tea, with a lemon slice, and like a pair of German nudists, they went out into her back yard, to find a spot to enjoy their refreshments on the neatly mowed lawn shaded by a large tree. Her anus now softened and juicy from the lad's efforts and her rectum newly evacuated, she proposed their next lesson be an exploration of mutual sodomy. First she would don a latex strap-on dong and explore his enticing bottom with the lewd device. Then it would be his turn to lube up his engorged whopper and inch it up her rectum until fully inserted.

Would that be agreeable to him, she asked. It certainly would, though he asked her to be gentle as he was still an anal virgin. Meg merely nodded and smiled ambiguously.

Chapter 22

Aunt Susan arrived home, feeling almost despondent. No Mikey. No dinner together. No club meeting or other sensual activity. Gracious! She had better get a grip on herself and get it soon. The nail spa had helped, but she needed something more. Perhaps it was time to deploy her comfort ritual that she resorted to when feeling glum. She had perfected it over the years, especially when she was between boyfriends, and it usually did the trick. But first a drinky-poo and dinner.

A nice Cape Cod in a tall glass was her beverage of choice and she'd make do with one of the Marie Callender dinners in her freezer. They were hardly fine dining, but they were cheap and reasonably nutritious. She popped one in the microwave and went upstairs to change out of her Rite-Spot uniform and find something more comfortable. She settled on a loose nightgown. It seemed a little early for that, but she planned on spending the evening in her bed anyway, so a nightie it was!

With dinner over and a quick glance at the day's junk mail, she set about gathering her supplies for her comfort ritual. She brought down what she called her "baby box" from the closet shelf and put it on the chair near her bed. She pulled down her bedding and amassed a pile of pillows at the head of her bed to sprawl against. This was a three-part ritual.

First she pulled open her nightstand drawer and found the tin of pre-rolled joints that she had picked up recently at the dispensary on the other side of town. She also pulled out her trusty little vibrating "Rabbit" and placed it on the nightstand top. She reached over for her plastic water bottle and trod over to the bathroom sink to refill it. Best to stay hydrated on an evening like this. Was she forgetting anything else? Oh, right! The jewelry box with her piercing gear, sitting atop her makeup desk. She brought it over by her bed.

Susan Compton no longer smoked dope as frequently as she had in her wild college days, but she found that a few puffs now and then enhanced her body's sensual feelings and really helped her relax. She fired up a lighter, lit the joint and inhaled deeply, holding the sweet smoke in. Then she exhaled and sighed. It didn't take much with the potent cannabis these days to deliver a strong buzz. She took another hit and let it sink in. Whew! That was probably plenty. She could feel her body tingle and her nipples perk up. Now for the next step.

She realized that she might as well pull her nightie off for the time being. She had to easily reach her erogenous zones without nightwear in the way. She reached over for the jewelry box and set it on the bed. She had removed all her studs, rings, and other gear before Mikey came to visit, not wanting to shock her nephew with all her fetishy kit. She now realized that she had been overly cautious. Mikey probably would have cum in his pants if he had seen all her piercings on display. For now, she was just going to re-fasten her nipple rings and associated gear. Given her plans for tonight, her labial and clitoral accoutrements would just get in the way.

Some years before, she had had her nipples pierced to accommodate several gauges of stainless steel rings or bars. For daytime wear she mostly wore modest rings with circumferences no bigger than her little pinkie. But for night-time private masochistic rituals, she preferred to insert large metal loops, like gypsy earrings, from which she would hang an array of fishing weights and sinkers, which stretched her aching titties down even further than their natural sag. Were Mikey here, she would have him assist, of course, but he was not here, which was sadly the point of this exercise. The dull pain, which grew as she threaded the large loops through her pierced nubbins, increased shockingly as the lead weights were added one by one, to first one loop and then the other.

Susan Compton fantasized that she was a saintly Medieval mystic straining to achieve union with the Divine through mortification of the flesh. She pushed herself to add on as much as she could bear, until the stinging ache was replaced by the bliss of endorphins shooting through her nervous system and triggering the first of what she hoped would be multiple orgasms. She moved her torso back and forth, making her burdened breasts swing and the weights and sinkers click loudly as they smashed against each other. Oh, Divine Mother, thank you for the mercy of your harsh grace.

For her next phase, Susan was drawn to finger her sopping labia, spreading her juices around her clitoris and its monk-like hood, relentlessly stirring and penetrating her cunt. God, such an obscene stink! It was like she was naked and prostrate on a sacrificial altar, surrounded by the holy odor of her liquid incense. She could feel another climax approaching and grabbed her Rabbit, flicked it on, and plunged it into her cunt. She sought out her G-spot and pressed the vibrating tip against it, rubbing it around, while its bunny ears buzzed around her clit. God, yes! Susan cried out as her pelvis began to twitch uncontrollably, as if she had applied a cattle prod to her privates.

Omigod! Omigod! She felt herself go rigid as her urethra dilated and pumped out a scorching stream of liquid love. Oh Jesus! She zapped her clit and G-spot again and triggered another squirting arc. She cast the vibe aside and started slapping her cunt sharply, egging it on to see if she could summon one last spray. Uh uh uh arghhhhh! Her buttocks lifted off the bed and a forceful, diffuse fountain of cunt juice shot up and fell back to earth like a shower of rain from the heavens.

Aunt Susan lay there in a state of heaving collapse, trying to calm her pounding heart and recall who and where she was. She moaned as she realized that her comfort ritual was barely half over. The best was still to come! She needed to let herself regroup, take a nice long swig of water and let her keyed-up body rest. She let herself doze off, snoring quietly and occasionally feeling her exhausted muscles twitch. Her hoops and weights were splayed across her chest, clicking now and then.

* * *

Presently, Susan Compton roused herself and sat upright, wincing as the fishing weights and sinkers plunged down anew, tugging at her sizable teats. She carefully detached the leaden weights and nipple rings, returning them to the jewelry box. Their presence would be incongruous in the next phase of her comfort ritual.

Before proceeding further, she left the bed and calmly walked into the bathroom, carefully using a clean washcloth to wash off the coating of vaginal liquid that covered much of her body. The next part of the ritual required that she feel at least nominally pure before entering into it. At the same time, she avoiding relieving herself or otherwise using the toilet. She wished to savor her fullness in preparation for her release.

Returning to her bed, Aunt Susan took the jewelry box back to her makeup desk and lifted the "baby box" onto the bed beside her. Now came the most comforting and soothing phase of the ritual. She lifted out the necessary sacramental props for her impending transformation. Her carefully preserved Winnie the Pooh doll. Her darling white bonnet. Her white plastic baby bottle. Her rubber pacifier. And most important, her fresh jumbo diapers and large plastic panties.

Somewhere inside her, her anxieties and glum feelings began to dissolve. Susan jumped off her bed and neatly laid out the large diapers upon it. She backed herself above them and sat down upon them. Reaching around, she wrapped herself within them and sealed them tightly around her waist and thighs with their sticky tabs. Then getting up, she stepped into the plastic panties and tugged them up. The feeling was indescribable. As if in a dream, she walked downstairs and warmed up some milk in a pan on the stove, then poured it carefully into the plastic baby bottle. Mmmmm.

She brought the warm bottle back upstairs and paused to put on her darling bonnet, tying its lace beneath her chin. She went over to her full length mirror and admired what she saw. Susan gave the impression of a giant adult toddler sporting incongruous boobs, with her plentiful pubes rising from the big diaper towards her navel and fanning out down her inner thighs. Wouldn't it be delicious to share this with Mikey as another giant tyke?

Susan dragged herself away from the mirror and climbed into bed, reclining against the pillow pile. She hugged her Pooh doll to her and proceeded to suck the rubber nipple of the baby bottle, enjoying the sensation of nursing and being rewarded with a warm flow of soothing milk. It felt so good.

She squirmed around, rubbing her dripping labia against the soft diapers. Ooooooh! Yesss! She was such a naughty girl!

Susan Compton was under no delusion that she had really become a baby again. Heavens, no! She was a 38-year old woman with special needs and with special feelings longing for release. Without Mikey here to comfort her and sooth her, this depraved ritual was her only hope. She settled herself back and tried to relax. Perhaps one more toke of the powerful joint would help her relax enough to release her stopped up cravings.

Susan Compton reached over for the half-smoked doobie and held the lighter to it. She inhaled deeply again and trapped the smoke within her. She could feel her lungs melt and she exhaled the potent smoke. She rocked back and forth in her diaper, enjoying its enfolding softness. The perverted woman could feel her innards gurgle as she released a loud stinky fart. She was almost there! That magical moment when she ceased her conditioned efforts at controlling her bowels and just let herself go.

OMG! She was pooping her diapers, helpless to stop, and reveling in the forbidden sensations. She could feel the foul stools and coils of shit force themselves out of her, filling her diapers with an abundance of sticky, greasy muck. She rolled around some more, in the bliss of uninhibited defecation. Once the extrusion of fecal matter ceased, a new wave of release arose as she released her bladder and peed her befouled diapers. God, she was naughty! What kind of person found such comfort in shitting and pissing herself? She knew it was sick and depraved, but she couldn't help it. She truly needed to do this regularly to stop from being driven insane by denying her cravings. She was still pissing and she undulated her pelvis, enjoying the tickle to her pee-hole. The shocking stench in the room was supplemented by her outpouring of ammonia-like urine. Susan breathed it in deeply and came again as her debasement washed over her warmly, making her whole body hum.

Susan Compton had never felt more at ease in her troubled life. Her comfort ritual now completed, she luxuriated in its aftermath. She was just going to lie here a while and allow herself to slumber in a liminal state of deep soothing satisfaction.

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