Undressing Disha

As the whole tangle of tights and pants finally came round her heels and off her feet, he reeled backwards at the sudden loss of friction. He was left holding her scrunched-up underwear, with the crotch of her yellow-stained panties now completely inside out, and immediately held the ball up to his nose. As she was facing the other way, Disha could only guess what he was doing.

"Wow, I'm looking at all the brown skid-marks in your pants Disha. They show up well in the white gusset. That was an inspirational choice of underwear!"

"Wasn't my intention Sir. I just thought they looked pretty for you."

"Well, being cotton, they hold the smell pretty well that's for sure."

"Is it bad?"

"VERY, I' afraid. A very strong smell of shit, urine and cunt."

"Yuk. That's so mega embarrassing."

"It's a real treat for me though! Thank you so much Miss Ramesh for sharing."

"My pleasure of course," she said in a very matter-of-fact manner.

"Time to take a look at the goodies then..."

He put the underwear to one side -- he would ask to take it home with him for latter scrutiny - and focussed on the vision in front of him. Two huge brown orbs stared back at him, her buttocks separated only by a slim dark crevice with random tufts of fuzzy hair peeking out. Supporting her buttocks were the heels of her large Indian feet. They were rough looking, showing a little white dead skin on the very back rim. And for the first time he took notice of the black stubble, which she can only have shaved a few days ago, growing faintly around her thick ankles

He was struck by the abrupt change in pigmentation from dark brown to almost pure white around the very edges of her feet, the backs of her heels and her insteps. It was like a tidemark. Her soles were more yellowy, particularly the pads on her toes and immediately behind on the balls of her feet.

Her toes were quite long and slender and he could just make out the sharp edges of her chipped, red-painted nails. He was interested to see that the ends of her toes were not yet misshapen into the kind of blunt, hammer shape that you find on a middle aged woman who's probably been wearing entirely the wrong shoes for most of her life. He leaned in to have a closer look and took a deep sniff.

"Well this is fascinating. I am really enjoying the smells but I think most people would find them utterly repulsive. Actually your feet aren't too bad but I know I'm going to experience a lot worse when I lift up your dress to find the main source."

"Yes Sir. I hope you find what you're looking for."

"Now, just as you did yesterday, please pull open your cheeks a minute so I can assess the situation in there and see how the hole smells"

"Yes Sir."

She reached behind and grasped and her buttocks with the finger-tips of both hands and slowly pulled herself open, sending another warm blast of foul smelling air in the Professor's face.

"Oh that's wonderful!" He exclaimed.

"Is it smelly enough Professor?" She was trying to bend into the role play -- quite literally.

"It's exactly as I hoped it would be Miss Ramesh. I'm staring at your black, hairy, filthy, shit-covered, anus and the smell is disgusting."

"I don't know what to think about that. I'm pleased you're pleased but at the same time I'm so utterly ashamed. Please tell me I'm doing the right thing?"

"Most definitely. Your future on the degree course is must certainly assured -- proving you continue to work hard and get the grades for this coming year."

"Thank you Sir. I won't let you down."

"We're in this together you know. I don't suppose you could spread open a little wider for me?"

"Not really. I suppose you'd better take over again."

Releasing her own grip, she felt the Professor place the palms of his cool hands on her cheeks causing them to wobble a little. She was sure he was testing the flabbiness of her young bottom. He placed his thumbs parallel to her crack and then applied a firm sideways pressure to spread her open once again.

He was stretching her cheeks as wide apart as they would go in order to see every detail inside her bottom. Nothing was hidden from him now and she knew his cock would standing vertically to attention in appreciation.

His thumbs momentarily slid into her crack, as if by accident, and she felt them brushing the surface of the crusty looking sores on the inner walls of her buttocks, as if assessing the texture (which he was). She knew exactly how rough they felt to the touch. It was so utterly embarrassing that he was feeling her like this. He was taking liberties, but then she knew he would try to push the boundaries.

She could feel his eyes burning into her. Last night, at home, she had spent some time with mirrors trying to get a sense of what he would be seeing. She had never really had cause to look before. She knew how her sweat sores resembled the wings of a big white butterfly which had unfolded right in the depths of her bum cheeks and fused into the skin. The wing shapes had a translucent bubble like patterning which contrasted sharply against the rich brown pigmentation of her genitalia, which she knew were now dangling out in the open space below.

"By the way Miss Ramesh, I must compliment you on your impressively long labia. Such a fascinating piece of wattle, and I like the way the hairs sprout out at all angles round the edges. I really must give it a closer study! I think perhaps the Garland Pose will give me a much better view don't you?"

"I'm sure it would Sir."

"Let's give it a go then shall we?"

He let go of her cheeks and she climbed awkwardly onto the balls of her feet, placing them wide apart, as close to the edge of the desktop as she dare. The Professor got out of his chair and pushed it aside, preferring now to kneel down behind her on the floor so that her heels and bottom would present themselves over his upturned face.

Disha felt her sphincter relax a little as she bent her knees and lowered her bottom, allowing her cheeks to spread open in a natural toilet-squat position. Her long, inky black labia swayed like a pendulum in the free air below her. She leaned forward to help support her weight by placing the palms of her hands flat on the desk. This was no longer Garland Pose -- where she should have her hands placed together in a prayer like position in front of her - but it gave the Professor a much more explicit view. From this vantage point, he tried desperately to scan and memorise the fascinating topography of her entire genitalia.

In addition to her labia, she knew his attention would be fixated on the quasi-triangular patch of dark leathery skin at the very base of her crack which contained the centre piece of his objectification -- her embarrassingly dirty anus. It was not a pretty thing, even when it was clean, but now it was all coated with a film of yellow slime and it stank of shit. She could only imagine what it must look like. Bursting out through the centre of her hole was that strange, shiny purple lump, only now with a few grains of dark brown shit embedded within the folds around it. She could hear him moaning as started to masturbate over it.

The Professor was drinking in the sight. All around her hole, within a roughly two inch circle, were the remnants of discoloured white toilet tissue. These had shredded into minute shards as Disha had desperately wiped the cheap University tissue over the abrasive, radiating creases of her anus in an attempt to clean off the creamy residue of her recent sloppy shit. It had the colour and consistency of peanut butter spread smeared around her hole, but it was not something he ever wished to taste. He was not into that kind of kink. As he had seen before, the whole area was peppered with random sprigs of black pubic hair, only this time they too were coated in the shitty yellow paste. Interestingly, those coarse hairs that grew out from the same roots in pairs were now stuck together in the goo, which made them look even thicker. They hung out limply, some in clumps, or else were stuck flat against her skin. He wished he could pull at them to feel their oily texture.

Disha wouldn't ever be able to understand it, but it was precisely because it was so private and gross, that the Professor was excited, almost to the point of having a spontaneous orgasm but not quite.

Miss Ramesh, you need to turn your feet out more and try to spread your knees even further so that your arse hangs as low as possible over the edge of the desk between your feet. That way I can stare right into your disgusting shit hole and breathe in the foul stench while I climax.

"Yes Sir. Of course."

Disha dutifully adjusted her posture as directed. This had the effect of both spreading her buttocks and thrusting them backwards into the Professor's face. Dangling in the void beneath, just within his field of vision, hung the dark silhouette of her hairy wattle. She suspected, given half a chance, he would happily suck on it as he had wanted to do with her long erect nipples.

With her anus now inches from his nose and eyes, he pulled his right hand viciously up and down the length of his hugely erect penis, all the time sniffing around her arse crack - like a dog on heat - and staring into her stinking, shitty purple hole.

"That proboscis is really well defined down -- your anus is pouting out like a shiny snout! I'm going to put my nose up as close as I can to the end of it without actually touching you, obviously."

"Professor, if it will really please you, I give you my permission to put your nose right up against my anus to smell it properly. I know its what you really want."

"Thank you, oh thank you Miss Ramesh!"

He wasted no time in reaching up with his face and resting his nose right on the big purple lump hanging out from her hole. It was shiny with slime and it stank enormously. He started to wank harder and she could her him grunting with excitement.

As he edged towards a climax, he drew back a moment and instructed her to clench and unclench her anus as if she was constipated and trying to push out a thick turd. He watched intently as the greasy purple folds of her sphincter opened and closed allowing minute amounts of that grainy, 'peanut butter' slime to leak out in tiny rivulets within the creases.

He looked again at the pathetic looking hairs trying to grow out of the hole itself - but it was such a hostile environment in which to thrive. They were drowning in the smelly yellow substance which coated them. They didn't stand much of chance. Such was his fetish that he desperately wanted to dab his finger into her filthy orifice and gently pick out the little hairs. He wanted to count them and take care of them: clean them, straighten them out, stroke them and smell their foul scent. But he knew that he couldn't, shouldn't. It would jeopardised the delicate trust she had in him.

Just at that moment, saving him from this dilemma, a tiny drop of her smelly yellow anal mucus alighted on his upper lip -- just below his nose -- and he licked his lips to taste it. He immediately clamped his nose back over the stinking hole, circling it over the slimy hairs, to breathe in the foul stench one last time. Disha could feel his nose boring into her! It was debasing and disgusting in the extreme.

He came in that instance, crying out in ecstasy as his white hot spunk spurted out in jets and splattered onto the floor.

Authors note: if you are a keen follower of my stories and enjoy the same fetishes, please do leave a comment. Please also suggest any of my story arcs that you would like to see continued. Thanks!