Of Mouse and Man

Joanna had pushed me about as far as I thought I could go.

She had made me jack off other men and swallow their loads, and lick their cocks, nut sacks, and assholes. The last time I’d been with her I complained that I just couldn’t sink any lower, at which time she dragged me to a filthy gas station restroom and made me lick the toilet seats and urinals clean, just to show me that yes, I could sink lower.

It was enough to make me wonder if she really loved me after all.

I was sure that the things she made me do had lowered my self esteem and sense of self worth, and was almost surprised to hear myself agree over the phone to meet her at the damn motel again, about a month after the gas station episode. I wanted to have some idea what was in store for me, and asked her if Mark would be there or these friends of his would be there. Her answer surprised me.

'Well, that’s none of your business, is it,' she said.

'What?'

'Listen, you may not have noticed this, but your status has changed a bit around me. You used to be a sex partner, but not anymore. You used to be a sexual servant, but you’re not even that anymore.'

'What am I now, then?'

'A rag.'

'Excuse me?'

'You’re a rag. A wad of toilet paper. If something repulsive needs to be wiped up, that’s what you’re good for. But never mind all that. Just be at the motel room at eight, next Friday night. And I want you good and horny so don’t come between now and then, not even once.'

'What…Wait a minute, what did you say? I’m…I’m a…'

'Shut up,' she explained.

I wasn’t sure what she had meant exactly, calling me a rag, but it didn’t sound especially good. I decided she was exaggerating. I hoped she was exaggerating. No guy wants to walk around thinking of himself as someone who could be replaced by a sponge, for chrissake.

When the night arrived and I knocked on the motel room door, I was determined to maintain some minimal standards of decency. She had already made me do every degrading thing she could think of, except suck cock. That, I had let her know, I would refuse to do, period. She opened the door and led me into the room, and I wasn’t too surprised to see Mark there.

Mark was laying on the bed. Joanna told me to take off all my clothes and then go over to the bed and get down on my knees on the floor next to him. When I had done that she told me to take his hand and lower it to my crotch. I was made to open his fingers, lower my nuts into his hand, and then close his fingers.

When I let go of his hand, it remained there, loosely cradling my testicles. Joanna then said to carefully unzip Mark’s pants and take out his cock and hold it in my hand.

'That’s good, Baby. Now just look at his cock. Feel it.'

Mark said nothing, just laid there, staring at the ceiling. I could feel the blood pumping into his big organ as it began to grow and stiffen as I held it.

'Now Baby, you’ve told me that you will not suck another man’s cock, and I respect that. I think you’ve made a decision about what you will do and what you will not do, and I respect that. You’ve set clear limits, and believe me, I respect your wishes.'

His cock was now half hard.

'The problem here,' she continued, 'is that Mark doesn’t respect any of that, and he wants you to suck him off, right now. So take that big ol’ knob into your mouth and start sucking on it real hard.'

At that moment, his fingers tightened around my balls and I gasped at the sudden jolt of pain from my crotch.

I started to speak. 'Joanna…Arghhh!'

'He’s got you by the balls, so to speak, and I’m afraid he isn’t interested in listening to you talk when you should be sucking. He’s going to keep squeezing your nuts like that until you’ve given him a blowjob. So you better get busy.'

I can tell you, having your testicles in someone else’s hand puts severe restrictions on your range of options in any given situation. Basically, you’re going to do what ever the person holding your balls wants you to do. Not being a person who has ever enjoyed excruciating pain, I bent forward and took the fat cockhead into my mouth and began sucking on it. I started stroking his cock with both hands at the same time. I figured the sooner he came the sooner I could get my nuts back. It didn’t take Mark very long to orgasm into my sucking mouth. I swallowed his come.

After I had finished doing the thing I had sworn I would not do, and then of course, licking his balls and asshole, he let go of me and Joanna told me to get dressed because we were all going to a party.

I didn’t know what sort of adventure Joanna had planned for my evening, but I didn’t think it mattered much. She had broken the last barrier and made me suck cock. It was a small thing, in a way, because I had already had Mark’s cock in my mouth without sucking on it, and had already eaten his sperm. But it was a major thing, too, because sucking cock was the line I had drawn in the sand. Well, so much for that.

We went in Joanna’s car, and when we pulled up in front of the old house, she told me to take off all of my clothes. She said not to worry, that I would not be the only naked person there, because it was sort of a sex party. I really did not want to do this, I told her, and then Mark said to get my fucking clothes off.

Jesus, I thought, as I disrobed in the back of the car. This is the kinkiest thing I’d ever done. I guess I was thinking that I might at least get laid if this were a sex party. It might even be an orgy, which I had always wanted to participate in, to tell you the truth. When I was naked, Joanna handed me a pair of gardener’s knee pads. They were thick rubber, with a strap that fastened around the back of the knee. As I put them on, she reached into her purse and extracted a leather dog collar. She told me to put it on, and that my costume would then be nearly complete.

'So this is a costume party?' I asked.

'In a way. There’s a lot of role playing. You have your role to play, and I expect your full cooperation. If I don’t get it, Mark is going to give your testicles a going over that you’ll never forget, and then we’ll leave you here, without your clothes or wallet.'

'What’s my role, then?'

'You’re my dog, of course.'

With that, she snapped a long nylon leash to the dog collar, and we got out of the car and walked up to the front door of the house. Before ringing the bell, Joanna yanked down on the leash and told me to get down on my hands and knees, like a dog should be. When I was down there, she told me that I should not speak for the rest of the evening, unless asked to by one of the guests.

I had never been to a party like this one, and hope I never encounter another one like it. Just looking around at the weird people, I was reminded of that line from Dr. Strangelove, where Major Bat Guano uses the phrase 'a mutiny of preverts.' There were women dressed like men, men dressed like women, that dreadful sitar music was playing, and all manner of illegal substances were being openly enjoyed. There were probably 50 or 60 people in the old house. The whole place was dimly lit and smelled of marijuana and incense.

No one else was naked and I felt like a complete low-life walking in on my hands and knees like a dog, and being led around on a leash. Joanna moved slowly through the groups of people at the party, and introduced me as her pet, Bowser.

She told people that Bowser had just sucked his first cock, and that he had loved it and was eager to suck more cocks. She also told people that her pet enjoyed licking anus, licking scrotum, licking cunt, licking armpits, licking nipples, in fact licking anything that anyone wanted licked. She told people that Bowser was well-trained and would do anything he was told to do, and that he preferred doing nasty things. The nastier the better. She told everyone that Bowser would be chained up in the upstairs bathroom for most of the evening, and would be ready and eager to serve.

I did not know what was in store for me, but off hand this didn’t sound too good. It was almost as though Joanna had no respect for me as a person.

The upstairs bathroom was small, and poorly lit by a single, red light bulb. Much of the space along the walls was occupied by a bathtub on one side of the room, toilet and sink opposite that across the room, and by a radiator and clothes hamper. Because there was so little floor space in the center of the room, Joanna told me to sit in the bathtub. She tied the end of my leash to a pipe and told me that she would check on me from time to time, and that I should relax and enjoy myself. She reminded me that I was to keep the promises she had made to the guests at the party or there would be severe consequences. Then she left me there.

The bathroom door remained shut for a minute, and then opened and an overweight man about 50 years old walked in and shut the door behind him. He stood in front of the bathtub and opened his pants and lowered them to his knees. 'Blowjob.' he said, 'Lick my balls first.'

His cock was quite short, smaller than mine even, but he kept insisting that I suck it all the way in, which brought it to the back of my throat. Apparently my gag reflex caused additional stimulation and he told me liked that. He also wanted me to put saliva on my middle finger and ram it up his ass while I was sucking him off. His semen was exceedingly salty. I remember thinking, what does this fat fucker eat?

After he came, he pulled his pants back up and checked himself by the dim light the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. Then he patted me on the head, and left. He closed the door behind him and the door was not immediately reopened, which was good because I had shit on my middle finger and wanted to get it cleaned off of there as soon as possible. I hopped out of the tub and dunked my shitty finger in the toilet water and then wiped it with some toilet paper, flushed the toilet, and got back into the tub.

A few seconds later the door opened again and a hard-looking biker chick came in. She had tattoos on her arms and gold rings through both corners of her mouth. She didn’t say anything at first, but stood in front of the tub and turned around and wiggled her dirty jeans down over her butt. She wasn’t wearing panties. She leaned forward and reached back and spread open her butt cheeks. I gathered that she wanted me to lick her asshole, and as I moved close my nostrils were accosted by the most foul odor I think I have ever experienced.

I must have made a gagging sound. 'Smells good, don’t it?' she laughed.

She had me rim her out for quite a while, as she seemed to enjoy having my tongue in her rectum. Then she straightened up and turned around. She had rings through her outer labia, and she reached down and hooked a finger into each ring and pulled her cunt wide open and thrust it forward, towards my face. 'Eat me,' she said, 'my old man won’t go near it on account of the yeast infection.'

Her pussy tasted about as bad as it smelled, but I managed to lick it to her satisfaction, without puking. I did that by not swallowing any of the rancid juice that came out of her. I just let it dribble down my chin instead. The instant she left I leapt out of the tub and ran water in the sink, cupping my hand to bring it to my mouth to rinse the disgusting taste away. I washed my chin, too. Then I got back in the tub.

The next visitor was a young Black man. He told me to relax and just sit down in the tub and stick my tongue out. He pulled out his cock. 'I just need to piss,' he said. He urinated all over me while I sat motionless in the tub. He emptied most of his bladder directly on my face and onto my outstretched tongue.

When he had finished he told me to lean forward and wrap my lips around the tip of his wank and suck out the last few drops, so that he wouldn’t have to give it a shake. Apparently that would require too much effort on his part. After I sucked at least a spoonful of piss from his dick, he made me just sit there with his dick hanging down into my mouth, and waited until he saw me swallow the piss. 'Good job, Fido,' he said. 'If my lady deal doesn’t work out, I’ll be back later for a blowjob.' He was back later, too. Twice.

I felt extremely dirty after he was done, and his piss felt like a mild acid on my skin. Not burning my skin, but just irritating the hell out of it. Take my word, it’s one of those things you want to get rid of, in a hurry. As soon as he was out the door I turned on the water in the tub and switched it to flow out of the shower. I didn’t wait for it to get warm before getting under the flow of clean water. I grabbed a towel and just had time to mostly dry myself before the next visitor entered the small bathroom. This time when the door opened I made a point of looking into the hallway and there was a line of people waiting at the bathroom door. This was going to be a long night, I decided.

The next eight visitors were all men needing blowjobs. I lost track after that.

I was in locked up that bathroom for about three hours, and there was a continuous line of people that whole time who needed their assholes licked clean, or needed oral sex, or who told me they had forgotten to put on deodorant and needed their armpits licked. Quite a few of them pissed on me, usually making me hold my mouth open. One guy tried to make me drink his piss, but I vomited on his pants before he was done, and after that no one told me to drink it.

Four people, three men and one woman, came into the bathroom to take a shit. Not into the toilet, but into my cupped hands. They told me to lick their assholes clean, but I used a finger to wipe away most of the shit off the anus first, and then licked it the rest of the way clean. I don’t know if they realized I was using a finger. When they left I put the shit in the toilet and flushed it, and rinsed out my mouth and washed my hands with soap at the sink, then got back into the tub.

The visitors all waited a minute or so after one was finished before entering, so I always at least had a little time to clean up after one and before the next.

Finally, Joanna was back in the bathroom. She had not checked up on my progress, as she had promised. 'Well, Bowser! Are you having fun?' I just looked at her.

She untied my leash. 'C’mon, Boy, we’re going downstairs. We have a special party game going on, and we need you for it.'

This 'game' was the stupidest thing I had ever heard of, and not so much a game as a way to humiliate me in front of everyone, as if I hadn’t been humiliated enough for one night.

There were two teams of competitors, six men on a team. One team had been eating cabbage all day, the other had been eating beans all day. Both had been drinking beer during the party. Game points were earned by the number and volume of farts generated by the team members during a 1-hour period. This was determined by lighting the farts on fire and gauging the size of each flame-out. Extra points were earned by 'outstanding pyrotechnics.'

The role I played in this asinine endeavor was the 'methane translator.' I laid on the floor, on my back, in front of everyone, holding a long plastic straw in my mouth. When a competitor felt a fart coming on, he would squat over my face lower himself until my nose was up his asshole. Then he would release the fart into my nose as hard as he could. My job was to just lay there and allow the fart to flow into my nose and immediately out my mouth. The foul gas would then be expelled through the straw, where a lit candle awaited.

If you ever want to find out exactly how long an hour can be, try doing that for 60 minutes. The bean team won.

It was getting late, and some of the guests were leaving, but Joanna was as perky as ever.

'I have one more treat in store for you, Baby,' she said. 'This one is your graduation ceremony. The last hurrah, the gold ring, the grand prize. The ultimate.'

She led me by the leash to the large dining room. The table had been cleared off and was covered with sheet plastic. Two tall electric fans were positioned to blow air across the top of the table. Opposite the fans, on the other side of the table, the dining room windows were wide open. Joanna told me to take off my knee pads and to lay on the table, face up.

'Tommy,' she called into the kitchen, 'He’s ready!'

A man came out of the kitchen dressed as a painter, wearing white overalls and rubber gloves. He carried a painting tray and paint roller in one hand, and an open paint can with no label on it in the other.

Joanna looked at me, and said sternly 'This won’t hurt a bit, Baby, but you’ve got to lay still for a little while. Do you understand? Just lay there and don’t move.'

The man upended the paint can but the substance inside was too thick to flow out. Pulling a wooden slat from his pocket, he began scooping the thick stuff onto the tray. When the tray was mostly full, he picked up the roller and ran it back in forth in the tray, covering it with the gray pasty looking gunk.

Then he put the roller on my chest and began painting me with the roller. It was then that I noticed the unpleasant smell of this thick substance. However, it wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as some of the other smells I had experienced that evening.

He painted it over my chest and abdomen, genitals, and thighs, not putting any on my sides, but only covering my top surface. Down over the top of my lower legs and feet, and then the upper surfaces of my arms, shoulders, and neck. 'Close your eyes and mouth,' he said to me, before running the filthy roller over my face.

I didn’t move, and just laid there, the entire top of my body covered with a half-inch or so layer of this malodorous paste. The man had left my nostrils open so I could breathe. I heard the fans go on then, and I didn’t hear anything else for a long time. The fans were drying this stuff on my body.

Then I heard Joanna’s voice hear my head. 'Baby, you’re probably wondering what this is all about, so let me tell you. Tommy’s cousin works at the oceanographic institute, and he got hold of two quarts of this stuff and then froze it and air-shipped it here. It’s whale shit.'

'Yes, Baby, that’s right, with this stuff on top of you, you are now officially lower than whale shit. Congratulations!'

A little later, I was allowed to get up on my hands and knees again, on top of the table, at which time most of the dried shit fell off me in chunks on to the sheet plastic. Some of it clung to my skin, and it clung to my body hair, so I still had a certain amount on me.

Joanna handed me a plastic bag with some sort of green garment in it and told me to get dressed. She didn’t want any whale shit in her car, she said. The garment turned out to be a disposable surgical suit, which covered me almost completely, including booties over my feet and a face mask. Only my eyes weren’t covered.

I wanted to ask her if I could shower off the shit before getting dressed, but I decided not to speak. When we got back into her car, she told me she had thrown away the clothes I had been wearing. I guess the reason for that was so that I would have to stay lower than whale shit until I got home and could wash it off. She handed me my wallet.

On the ride back to the motel, I thought things over. It seemed obvious that Joanna didn’t really love me after all. I had done so many disgusting things just to please her, but she wasn’t pleased. Plus, she didn’t seem to care at all about my feelings. By time we got back to the motel parking lot, I had decided to tell Joanna that perhaps we should both start seeing other people, even though I knew she had been seeing Mark and didn’t hide it. I never got the chance, though.

She pulled into the parking lot and ordered me to get out of her car. She got out too, and walked around to me and looked me in the eyes. 'Listen up,' she said. 'We’re through. You’re a disgusting vermin not fit to be around human beings.' I could tell by her tone that she intended that remark as in insult.