Smelling Amy

by little miss blair

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa, Reluctant, Coercion, Lesbian, FemaleDom, Humiliation, First, Masturbation, Water Sports, Scatology, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Caution: This story not for the squeamish. It is a tale about a rare sexual fetish, a fantasy for a relative low number of people, actually practiced by even less. If the story sexually stimulates you, don't allow it to scare you shitless, just keep it to yourself...

Bystanders identified the man they observed having sex with the warm female corpse lying in the alley. He didn't kill her but he was eventually indicted, found guilty and sentenced to twenty five to life for her death. It seemed like an apt sentences, for what he did to the unidentified body seemed equally as gross as killing her.

Sarah threw the novel down on the night stand in dissgust. She was sick and tired of reading shtty best sellers, books with no redeeming value whatsoever ... novels written to shock the senses, the new art form for the masses.

Sarah knew she couldn't continue sitting at home night after night alone. It was stifling her creative juices ... She needed conversation ... someone to talk to outside of work ... someone who would listen to her, communicate with her without being needy and demanding.

The following morning she drove out of her way to drop off the hand written advertisement at the local newspaper.

"Wanted, roommate... 3 bedroom Condo ... all the amenities ... pool, sauna, private parking. Female only. No smoking or pets. 555-1214."

Sarah, a young executive of a Fortune Five Hundred company, thought long and hard before placing the ad. After a long, bitter divorce with her husband of three years, living alone in her luxury condo was taking a toll on her.

She didn't like living alone, but taking on a roommate was risky and she knew it. She finally convinced herself, however, that if she used her executive skills, she could, through thorough interviews, select someone who could fill her needs for companionship. Her priority would be someone who enjoyed the finer things in life, and to be available for thoughtful, like minded conversation.

After placing the ad, she hurried to her next appointment, a quick physical at Dr Carlson's clinic, a requirement for a life insurance policy she was purchasing.

Arriving at the clinic, the front desk clerk escorted her right in, moving her past a dozen people sitting quietly and patiently in the waiting room. She received special VIP treatment because of her employer's contractual agreement with the clinic for health care for their executives.

Dr Carlson came in immediately with Sarah's medical record in hand.

"So, Miss Ross, what can we do for you today?"

"I need a physical signed off by you for a life insurance purchase," Sarah responded. "This isn't going to take long is it? I have a busy schedule today."

"Well, according to your chart you're healthy as a horse," Dr Carlson said. "I assume what they need is a cursory examination. If you'll remove your blouse and bra I'll have you out of here as quickly as possible."

As Sarah removed her blouse, her braless, large firm breast fell into view. Their magnificence wasn't lost on Dr Carlson, a closeted lesbian of sorts, at least with her patients.

Closeted or not, she couldn't help but rudely blurt out: "My god," she gasped breathlessly, "those are the healthiest ... uh ... lungs I've seen in awhile."

Sarah's faced flushed red, embarrassed by the comment. She knew she had a terrific body but she preferred to be recognized for her intelligence. She brushed the Doctor's comments aside ... considering it an off handed, a blunt assessment to the youthful, healthful appearance of her body.

The two women chatted as the doctor took Sarah's blood pressure. "I just came from the newspaper," Sarah said, making small talk. "I'm advertising for a roommate. I'm so damn tired of living alone, but after three years of living with a poor specimen of a man, I'm afraid dating is not on my agenda for awhile."

"You have plenty of time to find the right man," the doctor responded. "What are you, twenty nine? You're still young. Look at me, I'm thirty nine and still looking."

The doctor, still aware of her breast comment slip, was attempting a feeble attempt at crawlinng back into her closet where she had dwelled for so long.

"You know what," Dr Carlson suddenly blurted out. "I know a nurse here at the clinic whose looking for a roommate also. I think she lives at home with her mother. I heard her mention something about her mother re-marrying and living at home was becoming uncomfortable for her."

"Oh yeah," Sarah said with guarded interest. "The thing is, I live in a pretty upscale condo, so the rent for a roommate wouldn't be exactly cheap. That might be a problem for a nurse, wouldn't it?"

"Uh ... I don't know," Dr Carlson said. "She's young, like twenty four or twenty five, but she has already worked herself up to our head nurse. I would guess she's making around three thousand a month. Is that not enough to live with you?"

Sarah realized she must have sounded like an elitist with her remarks. She was also surprised a nurse made that kind of money. The nine hundred a month rental fee she intended to charge wasn't out of reach for someone with the nurse's income. She became more interested, especially with someone like Dr Carlson recommending her.

"I can tell you what you'd be getting with her," Dr Carlson continued. "She's a gourmet cook. The girl loves to cook. If she ever tires of nursing, I could easily see her in the kitchen of a fine upscale restaurant somewhere. I've ate her cooking ... she's amazing. But then that's just my opinion ... and coming from a woman who can barely fry an egg." She laughed.

"Can you do me a favor?" Sarah asked. "Can you have the her call me. I'll set up an appointment for some evening ... she can come to my place and we can discuss it. Who knows ... I was looking for someone nearer my age but what the hell, we're only talking about four or five year difference. As long as she isn't into that damn Rap music, we may have enough in common.

"I'll ask her if she likes Rap," Dr Carlson said laughingly. "If she doesn't, I'll give her your number."

Sarah laughed as she buttoned up her blouse. "It's a deal," she said. "Are we done here ... Am I free to go?"


A few days later, as Sarah exited an elevator at work, her cell phone rang. It was the nurse from the clinic.

"Miss Ross, my name is

Amy ... head nurse at the Mason clinic. Dr Carlson gave me your number. She said you were looking for a roommate?"

"Yes, I told Dr Carlson to give you my number," Sarah said. "Actually, what I'm doing is interviewing for a roommate. If you would like to set up an appointment, I'd love to interview you."

"Oh," Amy muttered. "I thought that..."

"I know I wasn't very specific with Dr Carlson," Sarah quickly interrupted. "But I do need to interview. Actually, it's in my best interest as well as yours. It's always possible we're incompatible, wouldn't you agree?"

"I understand," Amy said. "Sure, I can come by for an interview. When would you like me there ... I can come almost anytime in the evening."

"How about tonight, around seven," Sarah suggested.

"Sure ... is this at your condo or your office?"

Sarah gave the nurse her condo address. She didn't mention that Amy would be her first interview. No one had responded to her ad.


Sarah's doorbell rang precisely at seven. Amy was prompt, a good sign. Sarah was mildly surprised. For some reason she had developed a mental image of what the nurse would look like. She looked nothing like Sarah imagined.

Amy was a blonde haired, blue eyed beauty. She was still in her form fitting uniform, showing off her perfectly proportioned body. She appeared bubbly, but with a serious aura about her ... a Head Nurse maturity beyond her young years.

"So," Sarah began, "Dr Carlson told me why you were looking for a roommate ... your mother recently re-married?"

"Yes, and it has become increasingly uncomfortable living there," Amy sighed. "Her new husband has become a little to familiar with me, if you know what I mean. I haven't told my mother about it ... it seems simpler to just move out."

"I understand," Sarah said. "What the hell is it with men? You say hello to them and right away they think you want to fuck them. Unfortunately, in most cases their egos are way bigger than their cocks."

Amy giggled. Sarah liked her giggle.

"I also understand you're quite a cook too," Sarah said with an inquiring voice.

"Yeah, it's more than a hobby with me," Amy said excitedly. "Actually, I'm quite good at it. And I love doing it because it relieves the stress of my job. I take my employment responsibilities quite seriously."

"What do you think we have in common?" Sarah asked.

"Well, let's see," Amy's face took on a thoughtful look. "I understand you're an Assistant Vice President at your firm, responsible for millions of dollars I presume. I'm a head nurse presiding over five other nurses and responsible for hundreds of lives. We both have huge responsibilities and leadership abilities."

"Sarah was surprised by the young lady's insightful answer. It was uncharacteristic for her to make snap decisions but she knew she would love to have Amy as her roommate and told her so.

And within minutes it was settled between them. Sarah even reduced the rental amount by two hundred dollars as an inducement.

They agreed Amy would move in the following day. With key in hand, Amy and Sarah shook on the deal, their first personal gesture. Sarah had a roommate. She was excited and relieved.


Amy didn't bring much personal property with her ... a limited amount of expensive clothes, a set of high quality cookware and a thirty two inch high definition television that she hung on her bedroom wall.

She was settled in by mid afternoon, just in time to surprise Sarah by cooking up an exquisite, gourmet meal.

Sarah was pleasant surprised when she opened the door and smelled the aroma of good home cooking. She fully expected to be eating her normal fare, a frozen dinner.

"You know what we didn't discuss last night," Amy said as they dined. "I guess it didn't occur to me that such a beautiful, three bedroom condo would only have one bathroom. And a small one at that."

"Yeah, I almost didn't buy the place because of that," Sarah said. "And you're right ... we didn't discuss bathroom arrangements did we. Actually, I never thought of it. Well, I don't leave for work until around nine thirty. How about you?"

"Thank god," Amy sighed with relief. "I leave at seven thirty. I'll be gone before you ever get up. It should work out perfectly. And since you return home in the evening after six, it will give me plenty of time to come home and cook for you. God, I love it when it a plan falls into place."

"Listen, Amy," Sarah interjected. "I don't want you to think you have to cook for me. You're my roommate, not a maid. I don't expect you to..."

"You don't understand," Amy said enthusiastically. "I want to cook ... I look forward all day to coming home to cook. Oh, by the way, are you a wine drinker. I love good wine. It's the one thing my father taught me ... the pleasures of good vineyard wine."

"Yes, I like wine," Sarah said. "I'm certainly not a connoisseur, but I think I know good from bad. I don't know how to buy it ... I just know how to drink it."

Their laughter seemed to bring them an understanding of each other ... and the pleasure of good company.


They set their pattern quickly, within a couple of weeks or so. They spent nights talking ... talking about everything of interest to them ... movies, books, the arts.

They appeared to have a lot of common interest. Amy, younger and with the least life experiences ... Sarah, from a wealthy family who had traveled extensively, became a teacher of sorts, eager to share...

It was a Monday, approximately twenty days into Amy's arrival, when it began. Sarah arose that morning, entering the bathroom. She was met with a strong irritable odor. Obviously Amy had failed to flush the toilet. Sarah flushed it before showering, never giving it a second thought. She showered with the foul smell lingering in the air.

The following morning, Tuesday, well after Amy was gone, Sarah entered the bathroom as usual. And once again she was met with the putrid odor emitting freon an unflushed commode. It was too strong for her too remain. She flushed and ran out, deciding to have her coffee before showering. She accepted, without a second thought, that two mornings in a row was just a coincidence.

After coffee, she returned for her shower. There was still a faint odor, but nothing like before. An exhaust fan would have certainly been helpful. It was as if to the builder, bathrooms was an after thought.

Wednesday, Sarah moved slowly down the hall towards the bathroom, hung over from the five glasses of wine she had after dinner the night before. The dinner was wonderful ... baked Salmon ... a dish Amy served up differently than Sarah ever had it before. Sarah thought it could very well become one of her favorites meals.

The odor hit her full in the face when she opened the door. Way more pungent than the previous two days. Her first reaction ... how could this foul smelling odor ever have come out of such a beautiful young girl as Amy.

She held her breath as she dashed in, flushed, hurrying back out to the hallway. In the kitchen sipping her coffee, she thought about what seemed to have become a daily ritual with Amy. Sarah couldn't understanding why her roommate was so adverse to flushing after doing her business? It no longer seemed a coincidence. Could it be forgetfulness, Sarah wondered. It surely couldn't be on purpose. What purpose would it serve?

The lingering smell was strong as she showered and put on her face for the day. She thought about talking to Amy ... find out what her problem could be. She was afraid, though, of offending her. The roommate thing was progressing to well ... she didn't want to jeopardize it.

Sarah thought about the problem off and on throughout the day. She decided not to confront Amy face to face. She would leave a nice note in the bathroom reminding Amy to flush. Amy surely wouldn't be offended by that.

That evening, when Sarah walked into the apartment she could smell the familiar aroma of fried chicken. She was surprised and elated. She was becoming a little tiresome of the fancy dinners, most of which had names she had trouble pronouncing. The Salmon had been great, but fried chicken was a comfort food that her grandmother used to serve. She loved it.

Amy even had a glass of wine already poured for her ... a new ritual she began a few nights before.

Later in the evening, before going to bed, Sarah placed a sticky note on the commode lid. It was a simple message:

"Dear Amy, would you do me a favor and flush the toilet before you leave for work? Thank you ... love, Sarah."

When she stepped into the bathroom the following morning, she was delighted. No adverse smell. The note had worked. But there was another note in its place.

"Dear Sarah, I have not been flushing for your benefit. If you want me to flush, I'll flush, bitch."

Sarah's initial reaction was shock and hurt feelings. Calling her a bitch was uncalled for. And why would Amy be offended? It was she, Sarah, who should be offended, she thought to herself. And what did she mean, she didn't flush for her benefit? It was an admission that she had not flushed the toilet on purpose!

Sarah's employer was in the midst of their annual audit. She was under enough stress ... she didn't need or appreciate Amy's childish games. She showered and dressed, rushing to work. She vowed to have a serious talk with Amy that evening. She wasn't going to put up with such juvenile foolishness.


That evening, when Sarah walked through the condo door, there was a noticeable difference. No aroma of food, no glass of wine waiting for her.

Amy was no where around. Thinking the worst, she rushed down the hall to Amy's bedroom in a panic. When she found Amy's clothes still there, she let out a long sigh of relief. Only then did she realize how much she wanted Amy to stay with her. Having it out with her was no longer an option. Now she just wanted to smooth things over with her.

She returned to the kitchen looking for a note. Nothing. It was apparent Amy hadn't come home from work yet.

Sarah moved to the living room sofa, torn by the emotional distress she felt. She didn't understand how she had became so infatuated with the young nurse. It wasn't sexual ... how could it be ... she was straight. But she had become emotionally enamored and attached to her, and in such a short period of time.

She knew she had to wait up for Amy. She wouldn't be able to sleep with this rift between them. She was ashamed for allowing herself to be handled like this.


Sarah awoke in the morning, still on the sofa. She looked at her watch ... it was nine in the morning. There was a note lying conspicuously on the coffee table in front of her.

"Dear Sarah ... It was sweet of you to wait up for me. I forgive you for leaving that awful note about flushing. See you tonight. I'll make your favorite ... Baked Salmon. Have a nice day you beautiful bitch ... Love, Amy"

Sarah was confused by her emotions ... ecstatic and angry. She was still bewildered by Amy's reaction to her flushing request note. She was unsure what to do next ... all she knew was the situation had stressed her out and it was over something so stupid as the flushing of a toilet.

She stumbled down the hallway, hungry from lack of dinner the night before. When she opened the bathroom door, she was met with the same irritable odor to her nostrils, the familiar, disgusting aroma of Amy's shit lying in the unflushed bowl.

She thought it strange how she welcomed it, for no other reason than it gave her a sudden sense of security. She was relieved that Amy was not moving out on her.

This time she didn't flush the toilet and run out to make coffee. She showered in the midst of the full effects of the repulsive, stinking aroma.

As she dried herself, she wandered over to the bowl and looked in. There, curled up at the bottom of the white porcelain bowl, a meaty large turd. the size of a huge cock, completely visible through the clear water surrounding it. She inhaled deeply, a noticeable warm feeling abruptly glowing between her legs. To be aroused was not only eerie, it was sick. Oddly enough, she didn't fight it. Her moments of sexual arousal had been too few and too far between of late.

Stooping down for a closer look, she hung her head over the bowl, directly in the path of the rising aroma wafting up from the perfectly curled up feces. She inhaled deeply, her sexual arousal increasing. It was unsettling.

The arousal was strong enough for her to unconsciously spread her legs, exposing her crotch to easy access. And access it she did, her right hand slipping down to her pussy, her middle finger stroking her dampened clit.

Suddenly she penetrated herself, a simple one finger penetration. But just as quickly, it turned into a two finger stroke. And the more vigorous she stroked herself, the lower she placed her face in the bowl. When her nose was within inches of the bowl water, she entered the first throes of an orgasm. The odor was sharp, putrid ... triggering an explosive orgasm between her legs. Her body shuddered, juices dripping from her cunt.

When her body calmed, when she was fully spent, she fell back on the cold floor, not fully understanding what had just occurred. And she didn't want to know ... it was too sick for her to grasp. She didn't want to think about what would cause her to be so compulsive and do the unthinkable.

She quickly arose, cleaning herself, dressing for work. On the freeway, her mind became numb with shame. She knew she had to gather her wits to make it through the day. She would have to analyze her actions later ... she couldn't allow anything to effect her work, especially during her employer's most important audit.


Arriving home from work, Sarah was met with the wonderful aroma of salmon. And there was Amy, wine glass in hand.

There was no mention of their exchange of notes or the strange bathroom ritual. Sarah was too cowardly to bring it up again, even though she was still hurt ... and curious.

After another elegant meal, they drank more wine than usual as they watched a movie Amy had rented. Sarah was so tired she padded off to bed long before the movie was over.

The next morning, Saturday, both slept in. No bathroom antics ... in fact, it would be a clean, odor free weekend.

Saturday evening, Amy talked Sarah into doing a little club hopping, something Sarah never really liked to do.

After what Sarah thought was their last bar stop of the evening, Amy pulled in to an all night club, mentioning that it was a place she frequented in the past.

Sarah had quite a buzz going but it didn't take her long to realize they were in a different kind of bar. Glancing around, she could see the place was filled with women and young girls. She had heard of lesbian bars ... she had never been in one.

As they sat down at the bar, the bartender approached: "Hey, Amy ... long time, no see."

Within minutes, eight or nine females gathered around Amy. Sarah couldn't hear their conversation but it was apparent they knew her. Just as sudden, the females dispersed, moving back to their tables.

After one drink they were back in the car, Sarah, with enough booze in her to lower her inhibitions, asked Amy direct: "Are you a lesbian, Amy? Not that it makes any difference to me. I'm just curious about who I'm living with."

"It's really none of your business is it," Amy hissed.

Sarah began to cry. The stress of the week, the extreme attitude change of her roommate, the strange bathroom events. her job ... and now, the roommate she had come to adore, being so disrespectful to her...

"Stop your goddamn crying," Amy spat out. "Have you been a bad girl? You want me to spank you when we get home?"

"What ... what did you say?" Sarah blubbered. "Why are you being so meal to me?"

"Have you been a bad girl?" Amy repeated herself calmly. "Have you been bad, you cunt bitch?"

Sarah, still weeping, stared out of the passenger side window. She felt a sudden eroticism in their conversation.

"Yes, I've been bad," Sarah whispered. "I've been really really bad."

"Well, we'll have to do something about that, won't we," Amy cooed.

Their conversation came to an abrupt end until they entered the condo. Amy grabbed an armless, thick padded chair and pulled into the middle of the living room. Sitting down, she turned to Sarah.

"Come here, you fucking slut. Lie down here across my lap. Come on ... hurry up."

Sarah felt strangely submissive, a sense of relief that she wasn't in charge. She staggered drunkenly towards Amy, closing her eyes as she lay down across her roommates warm lap.

When Amy lifted her skirt up, exposing her firm round ass, Sarah moaned in shame. Another woman was going to touch her ... to physically punish her ... it warmed her pussy, popped her nipples erect. She realized she was crossing a line ... giving herself up to a lesbian. Her arousal was peaking...

Amy stroked Sarah's butt, mumbling something unintelligible. Suddenly, a powerful open hand slap came down on Sarah's firm ass cheeks. It stung terribly but she embraced it as punishment for her bathroom secret. The slaps came again and again, tears from Sarah's eyes dripping down on Amy's tanned leg.

Sarah's ass felt like it was on fire. She thrashed about on Amy's lap till it finally happened. She had a orgasm, moaning loudly as the pleasure washed over her.

Gasping for air, her body shuddered till the orgasm ran its course. And then, like she was a piece of shit, Amy shoved her from her lap down to the floor. Without a word, she arose and disappeared down the hall to her bedroom. Sarah lay on the floor, twitching from the aftermath of her orgasmic spanking.

In her own bedroom, Sarah fell across her bed, fully clothed, and fell into a deep, contented asleep.


The next day, Sunday, Sarah washed both of their clothes ... underthings mostly.

Amy cooked up a simple meal of spaghetti served up with her own home made sauce. It was the best sauce Sarah had ever tasted...


Monday morning, Sarah lay in bed trembling in anticipation, awaiting for Amy to leave for work

As soon as she heard Amy go out the door, she sat up, listening. When she was sure Amy was gone, she hurried down the hall to the bathroom. She knew it was crazy, nasty and crazy, but the allure was too strong, too compelling.

She opened the bathroom door to the most repulsive, putrid smell she had yet encountered. She breathed deeply as she entered, closing and locking the door.

The room was saturated with the odor.

Sarah stood over the commode, looking down into the bowl while she stroked her slit. She could feel her panties dampen ... quickly becoming completely wet.

She spread her legs, pushing her panties up into her slit. Sitting down on the floor, legs spread, she wrapped them around the base of the commode. With her crotch pulled up tight against the cool hard surface, she dipped her head deep into the bowl, her hands gripping the top rim, pulling her crotch tighter against the hard surface. She began humping it like a dog.

She immersed one hand in the water, slipping it under the turd, allowing it to settle in her palm. Lifting it above the water surface gingerly. she raised the thick, chocolate brown turd to her nose.

With her free hand, she gripped the top of the bowl tighter, giving herself more leverage to pull her crotch tighter against the base, humping, thrusting till her body exploded in a massive tremor.

As her body trembled uncontrollably, she squeezed the turd till it squished between her fingers. She wiped it across her face, her nose, her forehead her cheeks and throat. Another orgasm racked her body with so much pleasure she ached. She fought not to black out ... not to miss any of the intense sexual pleasure throbbing and pulsating through her quivering body.

When it was over, she hung her head in the commode, her body slumping, drained of the energy the multiple orgasms had inflicted on her.

Several minutes passed before she pulled herself to her feet, struggling to climb in the tub. She turned the shower on, lying on her back as the hot water cascaded down over her. She didn't move for over twenty minutes, not until she had drained the hot water tank and it became uncomfortably cool.


Arriving at work, Sarah tried to steer clear of her co-workers, fearing they would smell the shit on her. She knew she had cleaned herself thoroughly, but the odor still lingered in her nostrils, making her paranoid and ashamed.

She spent the day trying to cope with the sick obsession she had suddenly embraced. It was so filthy dirty ... beyond her comprehension. What was worse, she now realized she wasn't alone in knowing about her sickness. Amy knew ... she had to know ... wasn't she the instigator ... the tantalizer ... somehow recognizing the terrible and disgusting fetish in her.

By the time Sarah arrived home from work, she was a mental mess. She realized she was becoming involved in something corruptive, depraved, yet mysterious. To add to her stress, she was met at the door with the usual tasty aroma of fine food and a glass of wine.

But today Amy was dressed only in a pair of white bikini panties, dark tanned thigh high stockings and chocolate colored high heeled sandals.

Sarah was shocked. Everything around her was becoming sexual. Her worst fear ... her sexual attraction to Amy was gathering strength. Now she was faced with spending he evening with her, dressed provocatively, flaunting herself.

She couldn't take her eyes away from Amy. She picked at her food, much more interested in her arousal, leering at her roommate's perfect body and breast. She thought she was being seduced, and she was weakened by Amy's sudden sexy nakedness.

After dinner, as they sat in the living room watching TV, the generally ladylike Amy sat with her legs spread, or her knees pulled up under her chin, exposing her white panties, straining, buried deep into the slit of her pussy. Sarah, completely mesmerized, let the rush of sexual lust eat at her, her own panties completely sopping wet.

But Amy never made a move on her, choosing to tease her roommate with seductive, alluring poses. After the tense, lust filled evening, Amy went off to bed, never making any sexual advances.

Later, while lying in bed, Sarah eventually fell asleep after fingering herself to several orgasms. Her panties, drying during the night, adhered to her nasty cum smeared cunt.


Sarah awoke late next morning feeling sexual unfulfilled in a depraved sort of way. She called in sick, wanting to masturbate while smelling Amy's shit ... to rub Amy's shit all over herself ... her sexy roommates shit.

She opened the bathroom door, startled when she discovered Amy standing in front of the mirror applying her lipstick.

"Oh, I ... I'm sorry," Sarah stuttered. I thought you already left for work."

"I've been waiting for you, " Amy said mysteriously. "You're late."

Amy pulled back the shower curtain and turned the hot water on. She plugged the drain. Sarah stood there nervously, making no move to excuse herself.

"Take your robe off, slut," Amy said softly.

Sarah didn't question her, nervously obeying. Amy was going to seduce her, she thought to herself. She wants us to bathe together. She could hardly contain her enthusiasm.

Amy turned the water off once the tub had six or seven inches of hot water covering the bottom. She told Sarah to get in. Sarah stepped into the tub, the hot water soothing to her feet.

"Lie down on your back," Amy ordered.

Sarah sat down in the tub, sliding her ass forward till she was on her back. She didn't question her roommate. She wanted this to happen. If Amy wanted her to lick her pussy, she was willing to do it. She was ready to commit herself to ... to submit to her new young friend.

But when Amy stepped into the tub, straddling her, it seemed odd to Sarah as she looked up, Amy's tight round ass looming over her. When Amy squatted, the crack of her ass hovering over Sarah's face, Sarah knew...

"Oh god, nooooo," Sarah cried out. "Oh noooo, I ... I can't ... please ... please don't ... please ... I can't do that. It's too nasty, too dirty ... oh god, please, Amy ... I'm not like that ... please ... don't, don't make me..."

Amy reached around, grabbing a cheek in each hand, pulling them apart. And there, staring Sarah in the face, Amy's tight, puckered brown hole.

Amy lowered herself further, the brown ring inches from Sarah's mouth. Sarah gasped, trying to regain her composure. She was scared, especially when she heard Amy begin to grunt.

The tight brown hole began to wink, a point of meaty brown appeared. The turd came out slowly, growing large in girth. It reached Sarah's lips.

Sarah, lying there, the warm water caressing her her cunt lips, pissed, the bath water boiling up between her thighs. Suddenly the warm turd slipped between her lips like a a cock, forcing its way into her open mouth.

It didn't stop. And when its persistence forced it deep into her throat, her throat constricted, forcing her to swallow whole pieces, gagging her. Her taste buds exploded from the sharp, fetid taste, pressuring her to gag as she swallowed.

But the sheer depravity excited her ... her body throbbed in its sexual submission.

The long thick turd continued filling her mouth, but now she accepted it willing, letting it immerse her tonsils, adhering to the roof of her mouth.

She gave in to the sheer pleasure of her subservience ... accepting the turd as the ultimate submission to the young mistress ... the sensual pleasure brought on by her vulnerability to her vivacious roommate. The vile flavor became palatable because of its source, savory due to its degradation.

Sarah raised her head, forcing the long thick turd into her mouth impatiently, her lips encircling Amy's shit hole, sucking, the last bits and pieces into her mouth, feeling the warmness of its texture pasted to the roof of her mouth and fill in between her teeth.

Amy lowered herself, forcing her anal hole to join Sarah's lips. Sarah's tongue snaked out, slipping up into the tight brown hole, searching for more, sucking and licking up into the puckered opening till it was clean and empty.

Amy stood, turned, lowering her body again to Sarah's filthy mouth. "You'll need something to wash that down, you shit eating cunt."

Sarah willingly opened her lips, accepting Amy's warm golden piss, her mouth filling with a new tantalizing taste, acidic and tangy ... a warm wine befitting for a meal of shit.

Sarah guzzled it, her gulping the only sound echoing from the pinked tiled walls. It burned her nostrils as it dripped out of her nose, down into the tepid water where bits of excrement floated around her body.

And then Sarah came, her hips thrashing, splashing the dirty water everywhere, the over abundance of Amy's piss drowning her in a stream of warm urine. The sound of her gulping even more pronounced as she tried to both swallow and groan from the explosive orgasm.

Suddenly Sarah's eyes rolled back in her head, physical sexual pleasure surging through her so profusely she couldn't absorb it all. She began slipping into the blackness where the body goes to protect itself. She passed out.


When Sarah awoke, Amy was gone. She was shivering, the brown waste water she was lying in was smelly and cold.

Her breath smelled of shit, a thin coating still pasted to the roof of her mouth, dried pieces between her teeth. She licked her dry lips, small chunks adhering to her tongue from the corners of her lips. She moistened them in her warm mouth and swallowed. The taste was bitter ... she didn't mind ... it came from Amy.

Trembling, she stood up and turned on the shower, the hot water cascading down her body, washing everything but her shame and lust away.


In the kitchen, Sarah brewed a pot of coffee, trying to make sense of the depths of depravity she had fallen into ... depravity so sick and nasty she wondered why she attached a sexual distinction to it.

If this ever got out, she thought to herself, her life as she knew it would be over. She was a powerful business executive who felt powerless to resist her daily orgasm, her sudden sick submission to another female ... a submission so strong she was willing to let her shit in her mouth.

The phone rang ... it was the medical clinic. "Sarah, this is Dr Carlson's office," the sweet female voice said. "We have an appointment set up for you at two this afternoon. Can you make it on this short of notice?"

"Uh ... I ... uh ... I didn't make an appointment, Sarah said. "I don't understand ... why do I have..."

"Amy made the appointment for you," the nurse cooed. "She was pretty insistent that you come. Can I tell her you'll be here?"

"Uh ... yes, I guess. Two o'clock. Yeah ... I can be there."

Sarah wondered what this could be about. Was there a health problem with what they did? Was Amy looking out for her best interest?

At two o'clock she entered the clinic. A nurse ushered her into a waiting room and instructed her to strip down to her panties.

Several minutes went by. The admitting nurse returned, grabbing Sarah's hand, leading her to a door at the back of the room. It was a bathroom!

The nurse ordered her to sit on the floor with her back against the commode. The feeling of desperation swept over Sarah. But when the nurse reached out and stroked her crotch, Sarah melted to the floor, trembling with the same lust she experienced earlier in the day. She was ready for Amy to shit in her mouth again. And this time it was more exciting ... a pretty young nurse was going to witness it.

But when Dr Carlson entered, wearing only a white Doctors frock and high heels, Sarah felt a panic and a rush.

"Hello, Sarah," the doctor purred. "Would you please lay your head back over the commode ... I have something unhealthy for you. You still want it though, don't you?"

"Does Amy know about this?" Sarah murmured. "Where is Amy?"

"Open your mouth you shit eating bitch," the doctor hissed.

Dr Carlson turned her back to Sarah, backing up and squatting over Sarah's face. Sarah, shocked, complied, staring up at the doctor's tight anal hole. It twitched as the doctor grunted several times ... and then a large turd appeared.

Sarah moaned as her aroused body began to tremble. She quickly moved her mouth to the head of the fat brown turd, guiding it through her open lips. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see the admitting nurse's face next to her, so close that Sarah could feel her breath on her cheek. Sarah opened her legs, her hand slipping down to her crotch ... to her soaking wet panties.

Just like that morning, Sarah felt a large foul smelling turd enter her throat. She held her breath, allowing it to slide deep before gulping. Her throat constricted, slicing the turd, causing a full one quarter of it to slide into her stomach.

The admitting nurse pulled Sarah's hand away from her crotch and replaced it with her own. Sarah splayed her legs in total surrender, basking in the heat of her pussy as two fingers penetrated her, fucking her.

The turd continued into her mouth ... she mashed it with her tongue, continued swallowing it. Firm chunks ... she tasted their putrid flavor ... her total submission to someone new was even more depraved ... more alluring.

Dr Carlson, like Amy, lowered herself when the end of he turd came out, the brown hole puckering, becoming tight and partially closed. Placing the anal ring on Sarah's lips, Sarah tongued it open again, lips surrounding, sucking, her tongue slipping in, pulling out small pieces of aftermath. She wiped the doctor's asshole with her tongue.

The doctor arose, falling back against the tiled wall, fingering herself. Eyes closed, she fingered herself vigorously, screaming out when her orgasm exploded, her cum juices dripping down on stocking covered thighs.

Sarah's lips were caked with dark brown nasty shit. The admitting nurse licked at it ... Sarah, her mouth still full, spit large mashed lumps into the nurse's hungry mouth. They kissed lewdly, swishing the excrement between their lips, swallowing an spitting ... the nurse finally licking Sarah's mouth clean.

Sarah's hips arched up from the floor as the nurse fingered fucked her cunt, an approaching orgasm, seeming blissful, turned into a violent ejaculation, cum juices spurting from her profusely, puddling into the nurse's palm.

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