Sammee Ch 03

I woke, looking up at her grinning down at me.

"You are a very dirty boy," she said, swinging a leg over me, pinning me to the bed.

I grinned up at her and said, "for a dirty lady."

"I'm not feeling ladylike," she said, reaching down and guiding me and then lowering her bulk, taking me into a surprisingly tight pussy.

"That's nice," I said, reaching as far around her as I could.

She grinned then, the brown smear on her lips making her teeth even whiter by comparison.

"Boy," she said, "you ain't seen nuthin' yet."

She settled, allowing her weight to press me into the mattress while her boobs and belly engulfed me.

"You like me kinks and all," she said, her weight taking away my breath.

I managed to gasp out, "yes."

"Will you enjoy cleaning up after me?" she asked, fully relaxed now, crushing me into the mattress.

I had no breath so I just nodded.

"Good boy," she said, lifting enough to give me a small sip of air.

She was fucking me now, her hips thrusting, and she was sweating. She wasn't perspiring or, as I would learn later moving to Alabama, "glistening," she was sweating. Her sweat made the contact between us slick.

"Wait for me baby," she said softly, "or your balls will pay the price."

She had me right at the edge when she said that.

"I'm trying," I managed.

But I couldn't stop, the pressure was too great. I exploded.

I couldn't breathe, her weight was too great.

"Ohhhhhh, you're going to pay for that," was the last thing I heard before I lost consciousness.

When I woke I tried to stretch but couldn't move. I looked and saw that my wrists and ankles were bound in a very professional-looking set of restraints, heavy leather with a thick wool padding, something from a hospital I thought. Chrome chains led to each of the four posters of her big bed with little brass padlocks holding the chains where they were looped. The only movement I could make was to sort of twist in my bonds.

"You must learn control, my dear," she said in a soft voice.

She had just walked into the room, that force of nature. I couldn't help but notice she still had shit in her hair and on her nipple with a little peeking out under her belly.

"Here," she said, almost gently, her finger in my hair, lifting my head so she could put a doubled pillow under it.

"You need to see what happens to disobedient boys," she said, still in that soft, gentle voice.

As I watched she pulled a length of coarse brown twine, the word "hemp" came to mind, and she measured out a full arm's length of it before clipping it with a pair of scissors. They were shiny and I felt the skin of my scrotum tighten.

She carefully found the center of the cord and then, as I watched, made a loop and drew it tight around the base of my scrotum, forcing my balls away from my body.

I squirmed.

She took another loop and drew it tight, increasing the pressure.

I grunted.

Showing that amazing flexibility and dexterity for one so damn big she hopped up on the bed and laid beside me, her chin propped on her hand. She tickled my forehead with a fingertip and smiled. She did have a good smile.

"Here's the deal, sweetcakes," she said, "you can say 'no' any time you want. But if you do I'll untie you, call an Uber, kiss you goodbye, and you'll never see my big ass again."

I said nothing, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"No sweety," she said when I didn't respond, "no hidden deal breaker. Any time you want out just say so. But you won't get a second shot at me."

Again I said nothing.

"What's it gonna be sweety? Yes or no?" she said, a bit of snap in her voice now.

"Yes," I said softly, frightened but unable to resist.

She leaned over and kissed me, almost delicately.

"Wellllllll," she said, and her grin turned almost feral, "let's get to it then."

She squirmed around and started on my scrotum with the cord. She had about a dozen loops, stretching my balls about an inch and a half from my body before tying it off.

"Don't run off," she called, giggling, as she left the room.

I lay there, frightened, excited, not having any idea what was coming.

A couple of minutes passed and she came back in the room, humming. In one hand she had a wooden spoon and in the other some cloth.

She hopped up on the bed and straddled me, that predatory grin on her face.

"I don't want the neighbors to call the police if you start screaming," she said.

She held up what she had in her hand, a pair of her panties with a heavy brown stain between the legs. She smiled and said, "I had a little accident, but it works out okay. Adds some bulk to help you be quiet."

She held that grin while she carefully folded the panties into a thick pad.

"Open your mouth sweetcakes," she said, smiling sweetly.

I opened my mouth and she stuffed it full of her dirty panties. I huffed a hard breath through my nose to allow myself to breathe, making a gout of snot cover my mouth and chin.

"OOOOOOhhhhhhh you dirty boy," she said, bending down and licking up the snot on my face.

"Mmppffff," I said.

"Now baby," she said, "you let me down and punishment goes to the place that caused the problem."

She reached down and lightly caressed my balls, my scrotum swollen and purple by then.

"Soooooooooooo," and she giggled, "I'm going to administer five strokes to your balls with this spoon." He held up the wooden spoon she had brought in, a serving spoon that, as it worked out, fit across my balls perfectly.

I nodded my head.

"And you know you can make me stop at any time, right," she said in a lilting, sort of singsong voice.

I nodded again.

"Deep breath now honey," she said.

I drew in a deep breath.

The first stroke wasn't too bad. I flinched, but that was mostly from the anticipation. Every man has sat wrong, got his jeans bound up, and pinched a ball. It was about like that.

She stroked my hair, soothing me, telling me how handsome I was.

The second stroke was harder. My body jerked and I tried to cry out but, of course, my mouth was stuffed with shitty panties.

I was writhing, fighting the restraints. She was brushing my hair, kissing my snotty lips, telling me it was okay.

The third stroke was harder still and I screamed into the panties in my mouth. I was crying now, snot running freely down my cheeks to join the tears on the pillow.

She kissed my forehead and leaned down, her voice very quiet, not a whisper but a very low voice, "do you want me to call that Uber baby?"

I shook my head, surrendering to her.

She smiled and kissed me again.

"The downhill part now baby," she said.

And she caressed where I was hurting pretty badly now.

The fourth stroke made me throw up.

Puke came out of my nose and she quickly jerked the panties out. I turned my head and threw up everything in my stomach and then more. Thick mucusy bile-tasting slime was running down my cheek. My balls were on fire and I couldn't curl into the fetal position like I wanted to, as I needed to. She stroked my hair and when I had my breath back she kissed my slimy mouth.

She nuzzled my neck and I felt her body beginning to react as she licked at the mess I had left. She threw up, spattering the side of my face and hair, making me try to retch again but by then I was empty and nothing but dry heaves came.

When she lifted herself a thick string of mucus hung from her mouth and I could smell the vomit on her breath when she kissed me.

"I'm sorry to have to do this dirty boy," she said as she folded the dirty panties again, "but I really don't want the neighbors calling the cops."

I managed to say, "it's okay," and opened my mouth.

She was stroking my hair, smiling, when with no warning the fifth stroke came, the hardest of all.

I lost all control. I screamed, well, tried to scream. My stomach rebelled again but it was dry heaves. I pissed and shit and writhed in my restraints.

I think I lost consciousness for a bit, but not for long.

She pulled the panties out of my mouth and I could hear the high-pitched keening sound I was making.

"It's okay sweetheart," she said softly, her fingers lightly tickling my face.

I couldn't stop that sort of wheezing, whining sound, or the way I was writhing trying to escape, or at least ease the pain.

"It's okay sweetheart," she said again, straddling and then slowly settling down onto me, engulfing me again in her softness and warmth, covering my face with soft little kisses until my body finally stopped trembling and I was breathing more or less normally.

"It's okay sweet baby," she cooed, lifting and pressing her nipple against my lips. I latched on, hungrily, needing the respite as the pain between my legs slowly subsided.

Eventually, the trembling in my body subsided and she lifted herself up, using her finger to break the latch I had on her nipple.

"Will you be my good boy now?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, and I meant it.

She smiled and rolled off of me.

"Okay then," she said and started undoing the restraint on my right ankle.

My head was still propped on the pillows so I couldn't help but watch as she moved, so oddly graceful for all of her size.

She smiled up at me, reached for the pile of shit between my legs from that last swat to my balls, and slowly took a healthy dollop, about the size of a normal meatball, and put it in her mouth, smearing some on her lips. She chewed as she undid the restraint on my left ankle and grinned down at me as she moved up the bed to my left wrist.

When she grinned her teeth were covered with shit.

I wanted to kiss her.

She had to walk around the bed to get to my other wrist and stopped as she moved and dipped her hand into the pile again.

"Want some?" she asked.

I didn't hesitate to open my mouth.

She giggled like a little girl as she pushed the brown ball into my mouth. The odor was strong but, oddly, not really offensive. There was little taste but the consistency, thick and kind of sticky, was interesting. I was surprised when I suddenly got hard.

She released my wrist and offered her hand. So I stood and followed as she led me to the bathroom. She had me stand in front of the vanity mirror and I could see what she had done to me. My dick, fully erect, pointed straight up. My balls, though, were swollen, it was like my scrotum, bruised, was full of two lemon-sized balls. When she touched them I couldn't help but flinch.

She giggled.

"Put your hands here honey," she said, touching the edge of the vanity.

So I did, making me bend over.

"Now, let me help you," she said and as I watched she pushed her finger into her nose, worked it around, and came out with a long stringy booger. She used her left hand to spread my ass cheeks and then with her right guided the snot to my asshole. The snot provided lubrication when she pushed her finger all the way in.

It actually felt good and I pushed back against the pressure.

She found my prostate gland and started massaging. It was less than a minute and I started ejaculating as I had never imagined possible. It was a steady stream, spattering on the floor. I must have cum like that for 15 seconds, the pleasure building until I was gasping for breath.

She pulled her finger out of my ass, sucked it like a lollipop, giggled, and took my hand.

I was a bit unsteady on my feet as she led me into the kitchen and had me sit at the kitchen table.

"I don't know about you babycakes," she said, "but I'm starved. Shit eating is fun but not terribly filling."

It was fun, I won't deny it, watching her move around the kitchen, making lunch.

There was her size but also, well the rest of it. There was something about the way her big ass was shit smeared and the way her hair was lank with shit and puke and snot. I had never imagined anything even remotely like this and I was surprised at how much I liked it.

She moved around the kitchen like she knew what she was doing.

As I watched she brewed coffee, set a box of a dozen eggs out gathered a pan, a pot, and some cooking stuff I didn't have a name for.

There was that odd grace as she moved and soon the kitchen was filling with the pleasant aroma of coffee brewing and then bacon frying. She yelped and giggled and got an apron off of a hook on the wall and put it on.

"Bacon pops," she said, over her shoulder, busy with eggs and a whisk.

Jesus, she looked sexy. Her big pillow boobs were swaying with little nipples peeking out from behind the apron. Her big back and ass with their rolls of fat were very much on display.

I just watched her, fascinated. Hell, I was captivated.

She put a cup of coffee in front of me. "Cream or sugar?" she asked.

Then she grinned and added, "or a dollop of shit?"

I laughed and held my hand over the cup, the universal symbol of negation.

She put a second cup in front of the chair across from me and then made up two plates.

The breakfast was spectacular. A thick fluffy omelet, bacon fried just right, toast with jelly on the side, a big glass of orange juice, and more coffee. I ate with gusto. She was right. I was absolutely starved.

I watched her eat and liked the way she did it. There was nothing delicate about Sammee. She ate, as she did everything else I was learning, with gusto. She took big bites and closed her eyes as she chewed.

"I just had a fantasy," I said, watching her.

"Oh?" she said, finishing her chew and then swallowing some orange juice, "what's that?"

"I want to feed you," I said.

"That could be fun," she said.

"No, I want to order something big, you know four different things from a Chinese takeout place," I said, "something like that, and then I want to tie you to the bed and feed you until you just can't eat any more."

She started to say something but I talked over her.

"And then stuff you some more," I concluded.

She stopped chewing and looked at me across the table. She said nothing for a few seconds. As I was starting to think I might have crossed some line I didn't know about she grinned and said, "Oh shit, I think I just got wet."

Which made me laugh so I went back to my breakfast.

We finished breakfast in silence then, our eyes meeting occasionally and smiling at each other.

When she started doing the dishes it seemed natural to help her. She washed and I dried, putting things up where she directed. Her kitchen was surprisingly clean and tidy. As I finished the last plate I couldn't resist snapping her big ass with the wet towel I had in my hand.

She yelped and turned, cat-quick, and dropped into a fighting stance I recognized from my time in a karate dojo.

"No mas," I said, holding my hands up in supplication. She smiled and closed the distance between us, wrapping me in her arms.

"That is going to cost you," she said.

God, it felt good, the way she sort of enfolded me like that.

She giggled and arched her back, pressing her belly apron against where I was hard again.

"Energy for one more before we clean this up?" she asked, looking oddly coquettish for all of her size.

"Oh hell yes," I said. She giggled, took my hand, and led me back to the bedroom.

As we crawled back onto the bed, unmindful of the various piles of waste, I was already so damn excited I was afraid I would explode. But I was hurting still, too, and mindful of the need to make sure she was satisfied first.

I kissed her and whispered, "on your belly Sammee."

She smiled and rolled onto her belly. I was fascinated at the way her belly and boobs sort of squeezed out the sides. She grabbed the nearest pillow, the one with the pile of shit on it, lifted herself enough to pull it under her head, turned her head so she could talk, and laid into the pile.

"Whatcha got in mind sweety?" she asked.

"I think I want to explore your beautiful ass," I said, rubbing its roundness. It was pretty much covered by a thick coat of shit and I liked the look.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm," she said softly, wiggling that big ass at me.

I climbed over so my knees were between hers, pushing her knees apart a little.

I laid my hands flat on her cheeks and pressed down, slowly spreading them. God, she was completely covered with shit. It seemed perfectly natural to bend and begin kissing and licking, giving her what she wanted and, honestly, what I wanted as well.

I finally had her asshole clean enough to see and I thought it was beautiful. Such a tiny puckered opening surrounded by those cute wrinkles. I couldn't wait to spread it open and probe it with my tongue. I loved the way it looked and felt as my tongue entered. The way she squirmed a little as I did it. The combined scent of her arousal from her pussy with the shit on her skin was overpowering.

I entered her anally, pulled out, and entered her vaginally.

I took her that way, swapping holes, until she came, powerfully.

"OH SHIT!" she cried, her fists pounding the mattress, "OH FUCKING SHIT!!!"

As soon as she relaxed I started again.

I took her over the top three more times before cumming in her asshole.

I laid beside her, lightly tickling her back as she got her breath back. "Oh shit, oh shit, ohshitohshit," she was sort of babbling.

When she settled down I couldn't help but ask.

Remember, I had known this woman for less than 48 hours.

"Soooooo," I said, softly, tickling lightly, "how did you, you know," and I kind of ran down.

She giggled and rolled over quickly with that odd grace, reached over to the nightstand, opened a drawer, and got out a pack of Kools. She lit the cigarette and rolled onto her back, laying the heavy glass ashtray on her belly. I liked the way it sunk in.

"How I came to be a shit eater?" he asked.

"Well, yeah, I guess," I said, taking the cigarette from her and taking a drag.

She took the cigarette back and blew a stream of smoke straight up at the ceiling.

"Davey," she started and I was struck by the shortening of my name, "hell honey, I'm a cliche."

She stopped and took another drag.

"I was home on prom night," she started, "in my own place. I was already emancipated from my drunk parents. But I was home, me, my gallon of Rocky Road, and, of all things, a Gilligan's Island marathon." She giggled softly and took another drag.

"Well, and a twelve-pack of Budweiser," she went on.

"About 10, when I figured the dance was getting really going, and I was halfway through the twelve-pack," she went on, and I could see from her face this was harder for her than she wanted to let on, "and I needed to take a crap and, well, I thought 'why bother?'"

Another drag on the cigarette and she went on. A tear was running down the side of her face now. I didn't want to break the mood so I said and did nothing.

"So I just let it happen, right there on my couch," she said. "I didn't push or anything, I just didn't try to not shit, if that makes any sense."

Another drag on the cigarette, more tears, and her nose was running now too.

"And it hit me," she went on after a deep breath, "that it felt good."

She took a deep breath.

"I mean, it felt REALLY good Davey," she went on.

"So after the Rocky Road was done I got up, my panties absolutely FULL, you know," she said with a little giggle, "and went to bed. I undressed but left my shit-filled panties on. But I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep so I got into my special drawer and got my vibrator out."

Another drag, another stream of smoke at the ceiling.

"I put it in my ass first," she said, "and when I put it in my pussy," a deep breath as she was obviously remembering, "Davey, I fucking EXPLODED. I came like a crazy woman. I couldn't get enough. Jesus, I must have cum fifty times before I was just too exhausted to move."

She took a deep shuddering breath.

"Then I put the vibrator in my mouth and my whole fucking BODY came," she said, shivering with her recollection. "I slept with it in my mouth and when I woke the next morning I started again. I spent three days like that until I was just too exhausted to cum any more."