An adventure

It was in the middle of the night, out of view and some more range gone away from his location, where I had eaten human feces: my own and then even his. While it was not cold at all, I still felt a physical chill on my skin, as well as a thrill about my situation, supported by my shaven body hair. My hair was still in twin pig tails, as I deemed it appropriate to the rest of my outfit. Wearing nothing but the spare clothes made me almost feel naked, or even worse, like an imposter. The belly-free top wasn’t too bad as I had seen flat-chested women as well as less slim girls wear it without any shame. I had tried the short skirt before a few times, and at least knew, it did expose less than it felt like. Actually, if nothing too bad happened, nobody would get to see the pink panties I was wearing over my chastity cage, keeping a limited bulge only due to my balls. The blue-glittered purse complemented the overall picture and also contained my valuable phone, the wallet, and most importantly, the keys to my apartment. At this moment, I was still nervous but happy that I hadn’t decided for heels. I knew I wasn’t experienced walking in any female shoes at all, so it would blow the cover of any first impression in an instant. Honestly, I never intended to be beaten up for cross-dressing, but the risk came naturally with the dare.

For now, I was left alone on the mostly empty streets, just a few cars passing by. Folding my hands in front of my mouth and nose, I breathed into them to check how bad I was smelling. Not to my surprise, there was nothing but a very strong, clear odor of shit. Besides that, my spoiled clothes in that plastic bag did smell like the sewers as well, no matter how much I had hoped they were sealed airtight. How had I come up with this terrible idea? There was no time for any review though. So far, I had luck no pedestrians were around, and no driver had bothered to take a turn and take a closer look. I had to consider my options and make a quick decision.

Public transportation was out of question. That may have been my initial plan, but I definitely didn’t have the courage for that. A cab or an uber might have been easier, but still, I wasn’t sure how the driver would react. Maybe they would even call the police. That only left me with walking. Given the distance, I’d be back home before noon earliest, sweated all over, and who know how much would happen on the way given this lengthy exposure to the public. It seemed I only could choose between a rock and a hard place.

But then my eyes fell on a lonely e-scooter on the side-walk, with a bright brand label on it. Yes, that was one of the rental ones, lost in the middle of nowhere by who knows whom to get to who knows where. I didn’t see any reason they would have dropped off where it was left. Anyhow, maybe that was my fortune. So far, I had always shied away from trying them out, for financial and safety reasons, but those were lesser concerns right now. Without further hesitation, I approached the vehicle retrieving the phone from my glitter purse, careful not to drop my wallet or keys out of the tiny pocket. It did take me a while to figure all out, but as expected, registration and renting on the spot was a smoothed-out process. The company didn’t take much chances to lose a willing customer. Only few minutes later, I was on my way with electric speed, broadly following my navigation app, balancing the relative safety of the main streets with the privacy of parallel alleys.

Again, I was fortunate enough to reach home without any incidents except for a cat call from a group of guys I had quickly passed and increased my distance. Only after half the distance with the cumbersome, stinking, and suspicious plastic bag, I had decided to dump it in the next container, since it most likely wasn’t worth the trouble washing them, risking more incidents for doubtful results. With that lot gone, and the experience of an adventurous but mostly safe ride, I felt quite free, humming a popular song I only know from a few porn music videos instead of any charts. My luck did even continue when I stopped the scooter and rushed through the stairs to my apartment door, right in, as I encountered no neighbor. Not that I really knew anyone besides a superficial ‘hi’ from a distance, but I would have felt quite awkward and probably avoided them even more for some time if anybody had seen me in these slutty girl clothes.

I dropped the purse on the kitchen counter and refreshed myself with a glass filled with cold tap water. When I relieved myself in the bath-room, I kept the chastity cage on, despite the mess I knew it would make. But what was that in comparison with the plenty of mouth fills I already had swallowed today. I felt a bit filthy but still committed to let the feeling linger some more. In a weird way, still wearing the skirt, the innie, covered by the pink panties, and on top of that the belly-free top and the twin pig tails, I was at least satisfied with myself. There was no plan when I would get rid of all these, or what I would do next, but I was back in control.

Nearly in auto-pilot, I dropped into the desk chair in front of my computer, covered by a blanket for any spoils from any spontaneous experiments I had done in the past, following on hours of watching porn, reading stories and BDSM comics, sometimes hardcore up to mutilation and snuff, and often followed by researching and collecting more source material, until it had gotten way too late and I had given in to go to bed.

When the PC started, it also automatically opened several browser windows with the usual tabs including the community and hook-up sites, as well as my several messenger apps. Instinctively, I clicked on my conversation with him, though his availability was shown as ‘away from keyboard’. I don’t know what drove me. I owed him nothing, right? He had bound me, insulted me, and force-fed me literally shit, on my initial request and with my clear, on-going consent. Still, there was no sign he actually cared, quite the contrary. He had made quite clear that he was not interested in me or my well-being at all, but got off by helping me into experience the misery of my choice. One of an early question he had asked: “What’s your poison?” I briefly chuckled remembering that line. Anyways, I decided to drop of a simple message just in case he might worry:

“Safely arrived home.”

I send but then paused glancing on the conversation screen.

“Thanks …”, I started to type a new message before resetting the input.

“Many thanks, Sir, … for the experience.”

I don’t know if I woke him or what prompted his status to change in a sudden. Since I saw him typing, I waited for his reply:

“Still in chastity?”

I didn’t hesitate to respond: “Yes, Sir. And still cross-dressed. Only drank some water and went to the toilet.”

“Good”, he reacted, “Keep being locked like before, with necessary hygiene openings but no touching, until you don’t hear anything from me for two weeks. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”, I almost forgot how exhausted I was from the action. There was an inner heat holding me up when we dove into a longer conversation. “Happily, for you, Sir.” I didn’t even know what I wanted or expected. I almost felt cared for.

“Hehehe”, he wrote, a typical written expression from tops, “Did you get what you deserved today?”

I didn’t dare to ask for more of his attention, especially after he had already spent so much time on me, discussing my fantasies and turning one into an actual serious full-on experience. But I would lie if I’d say any line he messaged me right now wasn’t very welcome.

“Very much, Sir.”, I confessed honestly. With a reasonable mind, I would have never guessed today’s mix of pre-planned actions, surprises, but especially the situation in which to get home, was any kind of reasonably balanced. It was ever more exciting though as it turned out to be doable.

“Check your phone, shit eater.”, he commanded.

Usually when sitting at my PC, I had no use for my phone but for recharging it and possibly receiving most important direct messages or calls, so it just lay down on its front. I picked it up, being greeted by the start screen being replaced with a clear picture of my face, fresh from the session. He had precisely caught me in the act of chewing my own shit with eyes and mouth open, so anybody could recognize me and what I was doing there. There was no doubt what kind of disgusting chocolate that was.

The picture had stunned me for several seconds. I wasn’t able to forge any clear thought about it though, so I typed: “Thank you very much, Sir. It’s a very good picture.”

“There’s many more like this, but the videos are the best.”, he wrote me, followed by a grinning devil smiley, “As I said, it’s not my cup of tea, but you did very well, shit eater. Care to return the favor by some things I want you to do for me?”

There was only one valid answer: “Yes, of course, Sir! Thank you very much. I hope I won’t disappoint you.”

I wasn’t sure in the second until I clearly remembered how we had talked about my limits in length, the soft and the hard ones. Of course, those could change, but any decent dominant partner knew in the end, practically, it was up to the submissive or slave to voluntarily sacrifice themselves and suffer for the benefit of the superior, ending up in a win-win as that arrangement fulfilled both roles unless the top had no freedom from perquisite expectations.

“Don’t worry about that”, he calmed me down, “Just do as I tell you and keep forwarding me any potential issues as you have done so far.” While I felt no urge to say or ask anything, he continued typing: “I am curious. On the parental app, it didn’t look like you took public transportation or any car. Bike?”

“Rented e-Scooter, Sir, my first time. I hadn’t anticipated how much my smell might bother people, until the very moment. It was a spontaneous decision.”, I explained.

“How was it cross-dressed in public? Any temptation to change into your normal clothes?”, he interrogated me further.

“I was anxious, Sir. It was exciting, but I am also glad that it’s over. The public part, I mean. Don’t ever need that again, I think. It’s not that bad being alone at home like this, Sir.”, I tried being as open and honest as possible without taking too much spotlight. But I tried to answer all the questions as well: “I dumbed the clothes half-way back. I think I would never get them clean again anyway.”

“Probably”, he confirmed, “Some ideas are plain good, with most the devil is in the details though.” Now the grinning devil emoji fit. In the new line, a teacher finger pointed out a bit seriousness: “You are going to drink and eat normal now, understood? I want your body fit and healthy for a potential next time, or anything else I might come up with. First time is the charm, though, so don’t expect anything.”

“Understood, Sir.”, I replied quickly and in all earnest.

“Excellent. Now tell me what options you have to store the chastity keys away safely”, he commanded.

I had to think since I rarely actually put them away. No chastity cage in the world was really safe from actually preventing yourself to touch and pleasure the private parts. A lot of discipline and effort was involved keeping chaste for longer. But the physical barrier helped. After a while, it was so easy to accidentally touch and then leading to more. Also, the cage pushing back against an evolving erection, or in my case of the innie, even pushing the growing cock into the body, was exciting and joyful in itself. That’s what chastity was all about. Probably, it would be something similar with the keys if somebody else controlled them.

“I could drop them in your mail box, Sir.”, I offered.

The answer came direct and without thinking: “No, shit eater. For now, I want them at your disposal in an emergency.” I knew I had told him any emergency workers could cut through the thickest and toughest steel whenever it was needed. Chastity belts and cages were the easier exercises for them, without even cutting the skin. But it was more practical to check for skin irritation, swellings, a bad feeling or smell, without having to call the emergency service in the first place.

There was also another option: “I have a Bluetooth controlled key safe, Sir. The app for it should be still installed.” I started to look around on my phone.

He was quicker though: “I think I found it.” His next message contained a familiar app icon.

“Yes, Sir. That’s it.”, I confirmed.

“Put both keys in there and shut it. If you ever need them, message me ‘Snowball’. You are going to have to explain yourself then.”

“Thank you, Sir.”, I appreciated his care for details and followed his order right away. “They are in and it’s shut now, Sir.” Although it was just the keys, the symbolic act felt exciting, especially doing it for another person, ordered to do so.

I didn’t know how much experience he had with holding keys, or if at all. That didn’t stop him from teasing me right away: “Who deserves not to stroke or cum, shit eater?”

It worked like a charm on me, and I played along while repeating the mantra with faith: “Me, Sir. I don’t deserve to stroke, or cum, or have any pleasure.”

“Correct! And what do you deserve instead, shit eater?”, he continued.

I wasn’t sure what he liked to read from me now, but I confidently guessed: “I deserve to eat shit, Sir. Because I am worth shit, or even less.”

“Very well, shit eater, you know your place.” If words could be a treat, this was it. I hoped he saw it as a win for him as much as I felt it.

He wasn’t finished with me yet: “I might continue to toy around with you, as long as you behave. But I don’t like to find my toys spoiled or broken by anybody else without my consent. Do you get this? So, you won’t approach any other person to give you tasks or orders, or pick up any dares from anybody, same as the chastity, unless you don’t hear or read from me for full fourteen days. Do you promise to obey me and only me?”

“I promise to obey only you, Sir.”, I wrote and sighed. Two weeks could become quite long if I was needy and craved to punish myself without any out. On the other hand, I knew I could do it, and that was his condition. While usually being cautious with any obligations, in this moment, it felt possible and necessary to do it for him. I didn’t want to negotiate and risk turning him off, rather the opposite.

“Good little shit. You are mine now.”, he wrote, which went down like honey in my mind. “I might even ignore you for a long time on purpose, just to test how well you behave and make you suffer. Would you like to be ignored?”

“I would not like that, Sir, it would be cruel. But of course, it’s your right, Sir.”, I gulped typing. Being ignored would be terrible, especially by him now, after what I had done and committed to.

“Hahaha.”, he played with my feelings, “You are lucky I am not bored yet. How aroused are you in your chastity cage, shitty?”

I would have thought I had enough action for today, but very apparently, I was excited like a kid which didn’t want to go sleep yet: “I am sorry to report I am still aroused, Sir.”

“You’ll sleep in your slutty clothes then today.”, my owner announced, “And since I know that a pervert like you is going to like that, you’ll right-click the link I’ll send you next and choose to execute it as an administrator, so I can have some fun with your computer. I guess you know where to click to ignore any warnings.”

A blue underlined link popped up. I knew better than to click such baits. But it was from him. I knew he wanted to take control, I just didn’t know how much. He already had made good use of my phone, teasing me with the background picture and his knowledge of my location. To be honest, the sinister me who had asked for being helped eating shit and humiliating myself had loved that. Just a few seconds fighting with myself, then I clicked the link as he had told me. He was absolutely right about my computer skills being good enough to be familiar with administrator rights.

Nothing happened at the moment right after, just another message from him: “Very good, it works. Don’t worry about it, you’ll be able to use it as much as you need to. I might access your camera and phone from time to time, and I certainly install some porn censorship, browse your history and files, and tinker with your hard drive content. We’ll have some fun with the changes soon enough.”

I gulped about the perspective. I didn’t have any back-up PC or external hard drives. All my files could be found, well sorted into folders, including my documents, and with full access he would also be able to exploit my password manager. If he ever wanted to make my life difficult, I now certainly had handed him the keys for that. That possibility was giving me a strange fever though, craving for extreme abuse right away. I had promised not to do anything stupid except for what he ordered me to, though.

His next message interrupted my creative mind running wild: “Time to get some sleep, shitty. Leave the PC on alone. I don’t like to rush these things.”

“Yes, Sir.”, I mumbled softly. A yawn gave away how tired I actually was, but I just couldn’t get enough right now.

“Don’t brush your teeth today, straight to bed, shitty.”, he commanded, “And because I know you are going to have a hard time sleeping, as horny as you probably are right now, here’s what you do.” His typing took a bit of time. “Grab a big spoon from the kitchen, your phone, and take both to bed with you. I filled your porn folder with new pictures, number from one up. As long as you can’t sleep, you are going to count them, by looking at them, of course, and between each picture, you are going to hit your balls with the big spoon. Don’t get up before you had a full, long sleep. And then just go about your day. I’ll contact you soon enough. Or not. We’ll see.”

“Good night, Sir.”, I waited for a possible response but none came and I didn’t want to anger him by any possible sign of disobedience.

It wasn’t hard to do as he had just told me, especially since he could probably watch me through any of the phone’s or PC’s cameras by now. I grabbed the spoon and my phone, turned off the lights and went to bed, right as I was. Of course, I couldn’t sleep right away. The situation was already so new. The movie of the whole day played in my mind in loop. As a good submissive, I followed his instructions, readied the spoon with a bit of space to hit, and opened the folder, starting the series of pictures. It must have been over a hundred pictures, all close-ups of very manly, stiff cocks and balls. As I have mentioned before, I am not gay, not at all, but then being called a faggot is quite humiliating for me, especially if it looks to be true. I was not aroused at all by the pictures, rather turned off, but the more exciting was the situation itself. There was no sign of my old, heterosexual pictures or even BDSM comic shots I had selected, nor any of my favorite porn music videos small enough to easily fit on my phone’s memory. I was also ordered to look at these, and hit my balls, too. On top of that, he could check that I had done as he had told, and how much, or even watch me, though I couldn’t optimize to give any good view on me at the same time of using my phone. There probably wasn’t much to see in the near total darkness anyways.

I wasn’t used to hitting my balls too much, but I did my best. First, I got used to the pain after the initial hits. Occasionally, I focused on increasing the strength, but then again, the picture and counting task distracted me. Soon enough, my balls became more sensitive, up a pain rising into the direction of my stomach. Fortunately, by then I was tired enough that I opened my eyes and slumbered. After awaking only two or three times, confused by the present memory of weird dream states, I managed to get a full portion of sleep. I was relieved that my starting weekend contained no obligations at all.