Date: Fri, 16 Jun 2017 22:08:14 -0700 From: Rottweiler Toilet Subject: Oxen & Bulls, A Barn Buffet Oxen & Bulls, A Barn Buffet by rottweilertoilet@gmail.com Content Tags: [M/beast] [bestiality] [scat] [watersports][humiliation] Content Preface: This story contains depicts scat sex that includes eating, and features animal scat prominently. If this is your cup of tea, read on! If not, thanks for visiting, and enjoy your dirty romp through the Nifty Archives. Nasty dudes and gals, please make sure to donate a buck or two to Nifty to keep this wonderful site running. Y'all know damn well they offer a service you need, so don't be stingy with your wallet, even if it's a few bucks. You get yours, they get theirs. Content like this is only possible because of reader donations -I write for you, but they host for me, and we all benefit. Feel free share feedback or experiences with us over at rottweilertoilet@gmail.com, and don't be shy -there is no fantasy too dark or raunchy for us. If you're interested in getting a little reading material for your kinks, we can talk private commissions too, and we gratefully accept donations and suggestions to keep the filth coming. With that said, read on. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Barns fucking reek. I'm in one... naked, and I know the stench is gonna stick on every inch of my skin -and don't get me started on my hair. But that's how I like it. It's warm in here. Humid, too, and in a good way. Barns usually are, with all the animals they house, even when standing still. They're one of my favorite places. First time at this specific one, though. Master has a lot of connections with livestock farmers and sent me here on one of our training weekends, somewhere private and remote in the countryside. My arms are softly restrained behind me with rope, tied to a workbench. It's one of those big industrial steel ones, rusty and worn... the kind in butcher shops and mechanic garages. It wouldn't budge a single inch if I tried to pull against it with my small body. 123 pounds, and a touch over 5'4". A little short for a seventeen year old... underweight for my age too, but master's weekends always added a few pounds. Especially to my belly. I'm on my knees over a wool blanket near the entrance, beads of sweat slowly running down my cheeks and dripping lightly on my smooth legs. It was just another session of master's training. And I loved it with all my heart. ...and with all my mouth. "Open wide." A man's voice. His voice was hard. Gruff and deep. Handsome. Our first meeting, but one of master's many friends, and responsible for my feeding today. Tall and hairy and wide and strong... yeah -my type of dinner date. I'm a little pedestrian, but most bottoms of any kind are, and any experienced one in the activity of swallowing shit will tell you the same. I hoped he'd feed me personally, but today, the menu was something a little more exotic. "Yes sir, thank you sir." I responded shyly but eagerly, as I had been trained to. I was polite with all of master's friends. It was well-ingrained and I smiled genuinely upon the words leaving my lips. After all, I was being given a free meal. Trembling with excitement, I opened my mouth nice and wide. "Aaaaahhhh..." The man turned around and dipped his hands into an old, scuffed-up bathtub, sitting heavy in the dense hay. He wore three layers of those black nitrite gloves -the kind you use for fisting -one shiny black layer over another, and on top of those was yet another layer of heavy-duty yellow kitchen gloves that ran up his furry forearms to his elbows. Dipping his hands into an almost-overflowing mass of wet muck, he scooped up two handfuls and showed them to me to observe -softball-sized masses in different shades and textures of brown, both pasty and chunky but also wet and runny, sloppy and gritty. "Smell that." I exhaled and took a huge breath. It was a scent I was intimately familiar with -shit, but more accurately, animal shit. Specifically... cattle. Cows, bulls, buffalo, oxen. Closing my eyes to take in the heady smell of my next meal, I smiled. Fucking foul. Humid and sticky, it wafted aggressively into my lungs and coated my nostrils and sinuses in pasty layers of rich, earthy scent. The man's face curled in disgust, but he smiled along with me too, charmed but repulsed, viscerally disgusted. Finding it fun, my smile widened in contrast and I leaned forward and stuck my tongue out, beaming as we made eye contact. A bit theatrical, maybe, but sincere. Well... as sincere as a young boy ready to be hand-fed animal waste from a stranger could be. "Mmmmmmm." It was putrid, the smell -this big tub of shit was likely four or five days old... but the humidity of the barn during these long summer afternoons likely caused the shit to ferment even faster -it was just nasty, leaps and bounds wetter and sloppier and just... runny, way runnier than fresh shit. If it had gone another two, maybe three days, it would've liquefied into a chunky slurry -and been drinkable, like... diarrhea. Not that I would've minded. I looked over to the bathtub and desperately wanted to dip myself into it, letting the nasty animal sewage slither over my hairless body and staining my skin in thick chunks and globs. I wanted to dip my head in and suck in a huge mouthful, or better yet -go bobbing for the really firm bits and pieces I knew were suspended in oxen slurry. I imagined it being pushed out of the fat, sloppy asses of the animals surrounding us and dropping wastefully to the floor, filthy muddy gunk to be scooped with a crusty shovel and lazily deposited into a pile and left to rot in the sun, sad and untouched. But I saw the magic and temptation in the filth. A big, beautiful mass to be rolled around in, licked, smelled, smeared, and most of all, eaten. Animal shit was my favorite and made a great sex toy and even better meals. Mmmm. Tilting my head back with my mouth open, I relaxed my throat. I tried to open my mouth a tiny bit wider, letting the stranger see that the back of my throat was ready to accept my next meal. The gruff stranger turned around to face me, his gloved hands each carrying a massive scoop of the chunky, pasty substance he had picked up seconds earlier. He moved towards me agonizingly slowly, bits of fermented cow shit dripping putridly onto the blanket. I hoped to at least sleep on it that night, if master had decided against allowing me to use the bovine shit bathtub as a motel bed. If I leaned forward, I could lick the mess with my tongue, even bury my face and nose in it -but instead, I obediently waited to fed by hand. My cock throbbed painfully, squirting a cute splash of slimy pre-cum onto my hairless legs. "Aaaah." My cock throbbed impatiently. It was hungry, but only half as hungry as my stomach. I thought fondly about my meals over the last months and got excited. Yeah. Pathetic and nasty but desperate, I started drooling uncontrollably and licked my lips. I knew there'd be a hell of a lot more saliva in the next hour. My dinner last night was three-day-aged horse shit, piped from a bucket into my mouth with a funnel. For dessert, we finished with master's, fresh from his hairy ass, and delivered over a rimseat -I had sat under well over a hundred of them from various strangers and master's friends but master's himself was my favorite. Today's menu was even better -master knew I loved the taste of bull and cow shit. I hoped to eat it fresh from the source at least a few times -a stud bull has always been my top pick, but like any good toilet, I wasn't picky, just obediently accepting everything in front of me. Yeah... I eat shit. It's a compulsion. Like every other toilet-mouthed sewer-faggot, I started with my own -sniffing, smearing, the occasional lick. It wasn't pretty, like in the cute stories of fags eating shit with a happy smile on their faces. It gets me off like nothing else. I can't help it. I love the way it smells and tastes, its texture, the way you can feel it slide down and coat the walls of your throat. I love animal shit, especially dogshit and pigshit, but don't discriminate or complain when being fed, and am perfectly content to eat the cold, nasty mess off a stranger's fingers or from the floor. I crossed my fingers silently that I would get to eat cow shit fresh and hot from the source at least once over this visit -fresh shit, especially animal shit, when nice and warm, is just a different experience entirely. If you're still reading this, you're either grotesquely interested in it... in some nasty bowel movement play... or, more likely and even better, you already know what I'm talking about. And if you're here for animal shit, you're a very special kind of fucked up, like me -you'd pay money to be kneeling right beside me, mouth open, cock hard. Sure, shit is "delicious" to a scat fetishist, but it's also just... just fucking disgusting. That's the fun of shit eating. Forcing it down, chunk after chunk, mouthful after mouthful, growing into load after load. Bits and pieces swell into full bowel movements, licked fingers turn into full handfuls and then mouths begin accepting bowls, plates, jars, and even buckets... No... it was disgusting, it was nasty, it was long and hard. It took me dozens of sessions of to finally swallow a sizable chunk, and it took everything and more to get there -blindfolds, cotton up the nose, chastity cages, steamy hot showers, and many, many bottles of Listerine after hours of chewing. The first time I was fed, I retched and gagged, crying out my safe word -but my feeder was adamant that I'd do this right. With my eyes still watering, I picked up the chunks of shit I had spat out, coated in drool and staining the floor and my hands, and popped them back into my mouth, chewing them into paste before my feeder gave me the order to swallow. I did, almost puking in the process, but I managed to choke it down, and he resumed his place squatting over me. I jacked off five times a day to that experience for the next three weeks. It took weeks to work up to eating a full bowel movement even after I swallowed my first real chunk of shit, but once you hit a few milestones, the nastiness really ramps up. I made challenges for myself and refused to let myself cum without reaching them -and now it's almost impossible for me to even get hard without having at least one or two mouthfuls in the pot, or swelling against my cheeks. It was all downhill for my throat and stomach then. The rollercoaster was fast -it was a huge leap, nervous and jittery, to find my first feeder, but the next ten men came more and more quickly and readily. I ate and smeared and licked and rimmed strangers, and many wanted videos and pictures. I was happy to oblige and always, always opened my nasty whore mouth and let a stream or two of liquefied shit run down my chin and splatter on my chest. The web grew quickly and I'd receive texts and calls daily, inundated with photos of strangers's hairy holes attached with dirty little flirtations, some gruff, some teasing, but all eager to feed me. Photos and videos of my feeders shitting on dinner plates made their way to me, and that was all I needed to hop into their cars or bedrooms or motels and sit open-mouthed under their bodies. Some wanted to fuck me, and I let them do so freely only with the caveat that I'd have to at least get a taste first -my tongue had to, at minimum, brush against shit during a rimjob, and they could go to town on my body right afterwards, kissing and licking and fucking and fisting and spanking me until they had blown a load and were ready to release the recycled meals they'd been storing for hours, often days, into my teenaged mouth. And then master discovered me, at the time a fifteen-year-old boy on his knees in the bathroom stall of the town park, hunched over a toilet and dripping brown sludge down his chin and leaking thick strings of pre-cum onto the grimy concrete floor. He pulled his belt off and turned against the wall and I stuffed my nose and lips against his sweaty ass and ate wordlessly for fifteen minutes. Afterwards, he shoved his uncut cock down my young throat and pissed for what felt like two minutes -all I could feel was warmth trickling down my chest and into my swollen tummy, and my insides sloshed around as I beat off with his cockhead in my neck. I came and ate it off the piss-stained floor, never breaking eye contact. He took me in with no resistance. I knew he was the one. He knew I was the one. We began training that same evening. I ate from three of his friends at a bar, my burps in the morning rancid and gagging. It wasn't even a week after that eventful meeting that I swallowed my first animal waste -dog shit. A week after, farm animals -horses first. Then cows and bulls, oxen and buffalo. Goats, too. I ate from dog bowls, I ate from Ziploc bags, I ate from plates, I ate from bathtubs, I ate from buckets. I ate shit fresh from the source, I ate shit cold, I ate shit jarred and fermented in the sun, I ate shit microwaved, and I ate warmed, repacked shit, animal or human, that had been stuffed into other boys's tight young holes. My tongue was toilet paper for any animal or human that needed it, I told myself, but I was the one that needed to be toilet paper. I sucked dog assholes clean and dipped my hand into cow intestines and scooped out handful after handful of shit and recorded myself eating them and licking my hand clean. I drank dog piss -bottles and bottles of it, and master had friends who had trained their stud dogs to piss inside their surrogate bitch's mouths and insides. After dog sex, with my hole loose and soft from fat tennis-ball sized knots being slammed into and torn out of my rectum, master would fist me and command me to keep as much animal slop as I could inside myself. I slurped my own shit off dog cock and struggled and whined to keep my helpless body from leaking, thick streams of nasty fluids running down my wobbly legs as master dipped his thick hand into my insides and molested my stomach and prostate. Cum, piss, shit. It frothed and sputtered out of my trembling backside and I sucked his hands clean and licked the floor clean, the entire event caught on camera. On my sixteenth birthday, master brought out a heavy-duty gallon bag of cow piss for an enema. I was handcuffed doggy-style facing a full-length mirror and ached and cried the entire time, begging for permission to release and drink my birthday treat, my tummy distended obscenely and gurgling and sloshing in protest. Streams of stale cow piss ran down my legs and puddled on my knees and I looked at myself in the mirror, sweaty and desperate for relief, unable to keep the floodgates closed. Master then took out another bag of the same size, this time filled with shit -really thick shit. My eyes zeroed in on it, a wave of renewed interest giving me focus. I hoped it was what I thought it was. "Fresh from a stud buffalo this morning," he said. "Nice and warm." He put it against my face and I moaned as I felt the warmth, totally forgetting my swollen insides and leaking rectum. He took his phone out and showed me a picture of a black bull, fierce and tanky. My dangling cock spurted in response, another weak string of pre-cum dripping into the puddle of dark cow urine. "What do we say to our feeders?" A smile crept across my face. Master's smile appeared too, in all its beautiful twistedness. He knew just what I liked. "Thank you, sir. Thank you for the meal, sir. Thank... thank you, buffalo, uhm... th-thank... thank you for the birthday meal." Master laughed. His training had certainly worked. Twisted. "Keep this in for six hours and you get to eat it. But only what's inside you when the timer stops. Enjoy." It took him a full hour and a half to work everything in, and I was allowed to lick the bag clean, which I did so happily. I put my head down to the floor and kept my ass up, hoping gravity could help keep the mess inside my small body, already overfilled and aching for release. And I waited. I didn't lose a single drop or a single chunk. It stayed nice and warm inside me. Master loomed overhead as I purged into a five-gallon bucket and then started eating, scooping handful after handful into my mouth. He watched the mirror intently while I only glanced once in a while, fixated on my feeding. I loved the way buffalo shit sat on the tongue and reveled in the way it clumped up in my hair and dripped slowly down my lips, heavy and thick but awash with urine. I smeared it behind my ears and into my toes, then licked them clean an hour later. I ate everything that came out of my body for the next three days and master recorded the entire ordeal, telling me that not getting every bit of nutrition I could from this stud buffalo's magnificent body would be a travesty. Dramatic, I know, but I agreed enthusiastically, and sincerely could taste the flavor of that wonderful animal's shit until the fourth or fifth pass through my own digestive system. There were a million ways to eat shit, I discovered, and even more types of shit to eat than that -and master wanted me to know, to really know, with my body and mind and tongue, each and every single one in as much intricacy and detail as my stomach could manage. Hot and fudgy, cold and clammy, wet and runny, solid and firm, chunky, sloppy, slurry, diarrhea-like, gritty, coming from animals, coming from humans, fresh from the source or saved in bags and jars and buckets or shoveled into a tub... the whole world was a depraved buffet for a fucked-up toilet boy like me, and master had full control of the menu, picking and choosing and teaching me what to eat. After only months with master, I could be blindfolded and fed shit without gagging and could tell you, confidently, what species I was eating from. The amount of time fermented is a bit trickier, though that was exactly what training was for. And I was a very good student. Master's filthy games made my heart soar and my cock throb and I submitted to him willingly, my darkest fantasies coming into a brilliant, fire-hot full bloom under his wicked guidance, his mad, twisted, beautiful, nasty, disgusting, awful, yet addictive, wonderful, and knowing tutelage. My legs were perpetually spread for any animal or man he deigned wanted to fuck me, but my mouth had to be given permission to eat and my throat had to be given permission to swallow. Master was a tease in that way. The sex was wonderful, especially with dogs and donkeys, whose cocks line up just right to rub against a young boy's prostate. Master knew just where and how hard to push my boy button and just what I liked, and after enough weeks and quarts of animal sperm and sloppy dog knotfucking and fourteen-inch donkey cocks and probing fingers and fisting and piss enemas and shit repacking and bending over for faceless men against gloryholes and drugged-up nasty sex binges at bars, I had finally been broken in, though there was little resistance to begin with. My young rectum, still hairless and pink and previously taut and firm despite being pounded regularly in exchange for shit play, relaxed to accept intruders entirely and began to loosen, perpetually wet and slick with cum from the last stud's deposit, ready to hungrily slurp up any man's hand or animal's cock that wanted to enter and enjoy my body -or better yet, force their own bowel movements into me in reverse, mixed globs and chunks of slurry and animal waste and diarrhea and fresh piss snaking their way forcefully into my sticky bowels and giving me a midnight snack to be enjoyed later, straining my small body and leaking down in putrid wet smears to puddle at my feet. One weekend, master took me to a bar, one infamous for really grimy, really filthy shit-sex parties, seedy neon signs our only guiding light inwards. Small and surrounded by abandoned buildings, it reeked even two blocks away and was deafening with bassy club music, designed to cover up the moans and pants and squeals of the boys eating from toilets, from gloryholes, from buckets, from men, from their dogs. I wore a collar inscribed with the words 'Feed Me,' and nothing else. Master made me clean out thoroughly and didn't feed me anything other than jarred bull piss the entire two days leading up to the visit, and my stomach grumbled from both heat and hunger as a wave of scent hit me as we exited his car. He donated a bucket of dog shit to the party and three or four hungry boys crowded around it, but then quietly took me to the basement and strapped me down with ropes. The position was unusual, but as I laid on my back on the concrete floor and he lifted my legs behind my head and tied them down, I knew I was in for a treat. I was nice and flexible and my head sat squarely inbetween my knees this way. The floor had a few steel rungs to attach my collar and restraints to, and in this position the only thing I could move were my hands. I laid there helplessly, cock hard and excited, bobbing to the beat of the music booming upstairs. In this position I had a square view of my cock and balls, upturned against the ceiling -but couldn't see to my left or right because my legs blocked those directions. I could barely see my butt, my pink rectum clean and empty for once but still suckling and ready to accept company. He dipped three fingers in and my sweaty hole opened up effortlessly to suck them in. Rubbing around just inside my entrance, he added a fourth then fifth, and slowly pushed his wrist into my colon, swirling it around and popping his thick hand in and out of my suckling rectum to prepare my insides for what was to come. Master then inserted a thick plastic tube, about as thick as a beer can, into my upturned butt. He pushed it in until its rubber-coated lip was firmly embedded inside me, about six or seven inches deep, right at the entrance of my sigmoid colon. The end flared open wide like a funnel and I realized exactly what was happening -I was being laid on the floor with my legs and ass spread wide open with a speculum so that I could watch people shit and piss into me. Master started the train by pulling his pants down and pissing into the funnel, droplets of urine splashing onto my hairless legs and onto the floor but a great deal of it hitting its mark. The warmth trickled deep into my naked body, my bowels gurgling to suck up the liquid snaking its way into my young intestines. I got hard and luxuriated in the fullness, smiling with the knowledge that there was more to come. Squatting over the upturned funnel himself, I watched him push his hairy ass against the funnel's lip, holding still and not speaking a word. His hole, sweaty and pink, winked at me, hiding a treasure within but not relenting to my needs and whims. The seconds that passed felt like minutes, like hours. I stared intently at master's body above me, hoping that he would release his bowels at any minute, but there was only quiet. I whined. I reached my hands up to my cheeks and spread them apart as wide as possible. I pleaded with him. "Oh, please master, please, please, please... please dump into me, please?" Master was the type of man that enjoyed forcing his boys to literally beg, wordlessly, to swallow fermented cow shit, cheeks stuffed through stifled moans of desperation, faces sweaty and eyes open wide and giving the best puppy-dog impressions possible, trying and hoping for permission. I always complied, ever dutiful and excited to impress him, brown scads of drool dripping down of an overly full mouth as I waited patiently to be given the command to flush. And then he finally pushed, thick warm chunks of fresh shit splattering against the funnel and slithering in large wet chunks into my body. The sides of the clear plastic funnel immediately became stained with brown putrid filth as the contents of master's body disappeared from sight into my stomach. I spread my cheeks apart with my weak hands even further, wiggling and flexing my abdomen to help let the load get as deeply as possible into my body. I could feel how warm it was sitting inside my guts and wanted more, more shit, more heat, more pressure, more... opportunities to be a toilet, through-and-through. Master squat over my mouth and I cleaned the stray chunks of shit off his hairy ass, licking my lips clean afterwards and thanking him. For the next three hours, master disappeared and collected strangers to make use of his new toilet, and my belly swelled with shit and piss from many anonymous men, my mouth a revolving door of toilet paper for their sweaty, hairy holes. Whenever I was close to full, master would push a large horse-cock dildo into the funnel, working the overflowing frothy slop deeper into my body. At the end of the night, twelve men, not including master, had used me, and he pulled the funnel out and made me suck it clean, telling me not to lose a single drop of piss or chunk of shit. My stomach was swollen, rectum straining to keep closed after being forced open and fed so many loads over so many hours. Bringing me upstairs, I met all my feeders, who watched me squat over a bucket and purge. I was hard the entire time under the cheers and jeers and mockery, their faces wrinkled in disgust only making me harder and hungrier. "Y'think he's really gonna eat it?" "Jesus Christ... this is one fucked up kid." "Hold up, I gotta get this pig fucker on cam." And I did, scooping handful after handful once again into my hungry mouth, telling those anonymous men how delicious they tasted and how thankful I was that they'd fed me. I cupped my hands under myself and drank the mixed fluids of their piss and swallowed the mixed textures and slurries of their shit, and did it with a big smile. Master knew I had no limits, and he, like me, was more than happy to share my talents with the world. And so here I was in the present, trying desperately to restrain myself from lurching forward and taking a fat mouthful of sloppy cow shit -my roped up arms weren't to keep me from escaping, but to make sure I stayed still and properly chewed my food, respected it, waited for command to swallow. I was antsy, a filthy and overeager little cunt that needed to learn patience, and that was what master was teaching today. "Y'hungry, freak?" He dangled the mass menacingly overhead, letting two putrid drops drip onto my cheek. I couldn't lick them off with my tongue, and they rolled down my chin onto my bare chest. "Beg for it." I whined. "Yes sir, I'm hungry. Please, sir. Please. Please. I want it, sir." My tongue made contact with cow shit. He pushed a handful into my lips and I sucked in as much as I could with my hungry mouth, then swallowed without even chewing. It was cold and clammy and nasty and coated my throat on the way down, preparing my palette for a long evening of feeding. I licked my lips clean and let my tongue explore my gums to find any stray firm bits, then opened my mouth and lips for more, this time stained and filthy but even hungrier. "Like that, huh? And what do we say, faggot?" "Thank you, sir." "How's that taste, you little sewage fuck?" "It's delicious, sir. Thank you, sir." Another mouthful, then another. Then another. Then another. My belly grew, and the blanket turned spotty and brown from the tepid waste slithering away from his fingers and my lips. My teeth and throat were utterly coated, my chin covered in thick strands of translucent saliva frothing and escaping my smacking lips. I mashed cold cow shit against the roof of my mouth with my tongue before swallowing. I chewed it up into a runny paste and let it drool out of my mouth and onto my chest and tummy, where the warm mess snaked down my cock and off my smooth balls into small puddles. "More, please, sir. Thank you, sir." He smeared firm chunks into my hair and rubbed cattle shit behind my ears and under my chin. With his fingers, he took the most rancid bits of liquified cow slurry and rubbed under my nose, coating my nostrils with a thin layer of animal muck. I inhaled them happily and sucked his fingers clean, running my tongue up and down the length of his stained kitchen gloves. "Every inch of you, right, buddy?" I nodded vicariously. He bent me over and fingered me with gritty chunks of cold ox shit, eventually working his way up to stuffing fistfuls upon fistfuls of anonymous farm sewage into my rectum, which I knew I would be eating later. I held my insides closed and enjoyed the sensation of fullness, keeping my body taut in the hopes of warming up the shit being forced into me. I loved reheating a warm meal. All the while, I ate from his generous hands, sucking fingers clean. "Thank you, sir. Please feed me, sir..." The man smeared shit over my nipples and armpits, spreading my legs and massaging diarrhea-like slurry onto my taint and balls. He pulled my foreskin back and stuffed shit into it, then pulled it back over and started idly masturbating me, slippery pre-cum frothing into a thick brown mess and dripping onto the blanket beneath me. I moaned and mewed, humping weakly against his firm hands, the friction heating up stale cow shit into a warm fudgy mess. "Th-that feels good, sir, a-aaah...." Most feeders didn't give you the time of day -you were expected to jack yourself off while you ate shit, but this man was a tease. My small frame trembled against his exploring hands and he dipped three fingers in as he masturbated me, pushing even more cow shit into my swollen rectum. "Aaah, aah, aaaah-" With a fierce pop, he stuffed his fist into my butt, making me feel even fuller than I thought was possible. He pushed his wirst in slowly, getting four, five, six, then eight inches of forearm lodged into my helpless body. His hands wandered around the chunks of cow shit floating inside me and he took hold of a thick, firm piece and began molesting my prostate with it, smearing and fingering it with fermented oxen bowel slurry. The hand that was playing with my cock withdrew and began scraping up bits of cow shit from my body and feeding me, this time in small chunks, small licks -no huge mouthfuls. His other hand, still inside me, pushed and pulled against my helpless hole and flared opened and closed, playing with my insides and making my cock drool as I sat trapped uselessly. He withdraw both hands and a rush of cow shit slipped out of my gaping mess of an ass and piled obscenely on the floor. My face turned bright red in response, surprised and mortified that I was unable to control my rectum and keep the cattle filth inside myself. I fidgeted nervously, expecting to get berated and then forcefed what had inadvertently slipped out. "Aah... I'm so-sorry sir, I didn't expe-" The man's laughter interrupted me. "Relax, kid. This entire bathtub's gonna go through you this weekend. Right?" I nodded, nervous but deeply enticed by the challenge. "Main event's coming up. Y'hungry?" I nodded again, this time with less nervousness and more excitement. The man unroped me and had me stand up, my body almost fully covered in grime, layers and layers of cow shit built up from the smearing and spilling. All the different shades and textures and colors were beautiful, and I was happy to fantasize about being covered and fed from many, many animals -some shit was dark, some light, some fudgy, some firm, but all nasty, nasty in the best way. "Y'wanna eat from a stud bull, right?" My eyes widened and I tried to contain myself, a short boy stuck in a barn covered in putrid animal waste and incoherent at the prospect of eating fresh bull shit. "Ye... yes. Yes sir, yes... yes sir, please, yes.... yes!" The man laughed again. Taking care to not make contact with me through any part of his body other than what was gloved, he slowly ushered me to one of the rear animal stalls. A black bull sat within it, a lumbering 2,800 lbs. of muscular stud beast confined to a small rectangular space with a boy weighing only 123 lbs. -though I had probably eaten a full pound or two of shit since today had started. "Come on. It's dinnertime. You know what to do." Nervously, I tiptoed around his backside, cautious and excited the entire time. My feet landed in a miscellaneous pile of still-warm bull shit and I found myself happy to avoid the grainy and sharp textures of barn straw. There was an old wooden stool to my right with an unusual design -it was almost like a toilet seat, meaning anybody who sat on it would have their asshole and balls exposed. The man sauntered over and dragged the stool centered behind the bull, his dirty gloves leaving traces of sticky brown muck on the chair. "Sit." I complied. Facing forward, I was the perfect height for my young lips to make contact with this stud animal's rectum. It's tail lifted lazily, flicking at the air occasionally. The bull's testicles were outright gigantic, each one much bigger than both my small hands could comfortably hold. I was awestruck, both at the size and the opportunity presented to me. "Open up, kid." I opened my mouth compliantly. The man guided the bull, inch by inch, to step backwards in tiny quarter-steps until his thick haunches were mere inches away from my mouth. His massive backside was stained with stale chunks of dry shit, which I was eager to clean off and eat -but more importantly, I wanted what appeared to be an upcoming fresh meal fed from my favorite species. I patiently waited in agony, wary of being punished for diving in too quickly, as was the norm when it came to cattle training sessions. "Not yet, kid." I shuffled anxiously. "Kiss him." I licked my lips and planted a sloppy kiss against the bull's backside, tasting and smelling him. I resisted dipping my tongue into his haunches and kept my hands to myself, eager to get the real greenlight to go town. I took in his wonderful animal scent, dark and rich and wild and masculine, and rubbed my nose gently against the dry scads of bull shit that coated his thin black fur and massive body. "Two fingers. Get them in once and lick 'em clean. No eating, yet." I dipped in two fingers into the stud bull's fat hole effortlessly and they came back moist and pasty with flecks of bright brown shit. The waste I pulled out was almost an inch thick and I sucked my fingers clean, savoring the flavor and especially the warmth -there's no equal to fresh shit -dense and creamy. "You hungry, kid?" "Yes sir...." Twisted fuck. "You wanna eat, kid?" "Y-yes, sir." I was a twisted fuck too. "Ask." "S-sir, please let me shit. I want to so badly, sir. I love animal shit and this bull's shit looks so good, sir. Please. I promise I'll eat everything, I promise. You can do whatever you want to me, just please let him feed me. Please?" The man's smile darkened, nasty and wild and monstrous. If my heart had a face, it would've smiled right back, happy to dance this putrid dance with him -or any other stranger, any other animal, any other feeder. "Eat." The bull backed up another two inches at the man's handling and pressed my face against the back of the barn wall -in this position, I was unable to move my head, my lips forced open against this bull's rectum. I pushed my tongue out and let it wander around, overjoyed at the sensation of warmth that enveloped it -the kind of warmth that only comes from eating fresh shit straight out of a human's or an animal's rectum. My tongue brushed lightly against the faintest chunk of shit and I opened my lips wide and waited, knowing what was coming. In the next half-second, the bull flexed and began to bear down, his shit pouring into my throat full-force, most of it piping straight into my stomach, slithering past my tongue and plopping wetly into its eager toilet's esophagus. My cheeks filled up instantly and bits and chunks escaped only to fall into my cupped hands, which were smeared over my nipples and armpits. It was so much that some of the shit escaped out of my nose, making me cough and gag, but I diligently relaxed my mouth and let myself be fed, cock hard and dripping brown snot the entire time. "Mmmmmffffph." I wrapped my hands around the bull's haunches and spread his hole open even further, pushing my lips and mouth fully into his rectum. I began licking and chewing, rolling chunks around the inside of my mouth and against my cheeks. I scraped fresh shit off the roof of my mouth with my tongue and swallowed, concentrating on the sensation of each new mouthful trailing down my throat and splattering wetly into my stomach. I swallowed and swallowed, moaning the entire time. The man kneeled beside me, dipping his gloved hand under the stool to play with my shit-covered rectum. He slipped three fingers in and began to massage my prostate as I was helplessly forcefed fresh bull feces from the stud animal pinning me against the wall. He grabbed a handful of the semi-fresh shit at the base of the stool and rubbed the mess into my feet, massaging clammy bull shit into my hair and the back of my neck. "You love shit, don't you, baby boy?" My mouth was three inches into a bull's rectum, hungrily sucking up waste like it was food. My body was covered in bovine waste inside and out, my throat the sewer pipe for a farm animal septic tank. Unable to move, I gently nodded in agreement. "Taste good, freak?" "Mmmfffphh-hmmmph." The stranger picked up another handful of bovine sewage and stuffed his thick hand into me, then slipped his hand out empty. One handful, then another. Then another. My gaping hole distended to accept more and more bull shit until my stomach was swollen obscenely and bits and chunks began to fall out helplessly beneath me. Still, I focused on eating. Cups turned into quarts, which turned into gallons -I felt like I had swallowed three or four pounds of fresh shit in the last thirty minutes, but the flow kept going. I closed my eyes and let the mess pour down my throat. Each plop of waste inside my body made me hotter and hotter, and I could feel my cock getting close to blowing, entranced by the sensation of being full from both ends. ` The man dipped his hand in and began rubbing fresh hot bull shit against my prostate, warming me up from the inside out. I let one of my hands wander to my cock, hungry to jack off, but he slapped it away with his free hand. "Dig in there, bitch. Don't fuck with your clit again or you're going home. Eat." I whined, rocking my sloppy shit-filled cunt against his fingers. I pulled my toilet lips away from the bull's ass, thick strings of brown saliva briefly connecting feeder and eater, and admired proudly at how shiny and clean my mouth had made this animal's fat rectum. I dipped my fingers in. Four fingers went in easy, so I pushed my hand inside and dug in five or six inches up my forearm, deep enough to make contact with whatever mess was still left inside him. I cupped my hands and scooped it out, licking my fingers clean of deep, rich bovine shit. I ran my tongue up and down my forearm until it was pristine, then switched hands and did it again, this time elbow deep. I sucked shit off my forearms and from underneath my nails and between my fingers, hurried but careful not to hurt my feeder. The entire time, the gloved stranger continued to slip his hand in and out of my body, chunks of rancid cow shit escaping and dropping to the pile below the stool. He picked up random handfuls off the floor and massaged them into my back and taint, dipping both hands in my butt to molest my prostate and small intestine with animal feces. The thought rumbled like electricity in my small body and my cock began spurting pre-cum helplessly against his talented milking. "Get your arm up in there, bitch." I dug in deep, my elbow fully inside bull rectum, and my hand came out full -a softball-sized amount of fresh bull shit, dense and pasty and rich. I lifted my stained hands to my mouth, but before my tongue could make contact with the last half of my meal, I was interrupted. "Hey kid, y'wanna know something?" "Y-yes sir?" "I've got three more bulls that need to go, tonight." The idea flashed in my head. Oh fuck. Fuck- With that, he slipped his hand deep into my body, almost lifting the stool, and my already fucked-open hole was forced to stretch a tiny bit wider to accomodate his upper arm. I gasped in shock and the bull in front of me pressed his fat ass firmly against my sewer lips, forcing one last mouthful from his thick haunches to slide effortlessly down my throat and into my stomach, where my body would spend hours digesting it, scraping what nutrition it could from the pounds and pounds of rotting animal waste stuffed into it. I came as the last chunk fell down my throat, feeling the full weight of a full load of fresh bull shit plop into my stomach, and the bull pulled away, dirty animal hole now empty, cleaned by a seventeen year old boy's mouth. My foreskin, trapped with bits and chunks of shit, leaked sperm tepidly onto the pile of shit beneath me, and the man slowly withdrew his hand from my tired hole, chunks of vile cow shit dropping into the hay underneath the stool. I breathed a sigh of relief, exhausted, and slumped against the back wall of the barn stall. Most shit eaters, after orgasm, revert to their normal selves -which is to say they want to stay very, very far away from the taste or smell of shit until their refractory period ends. It's what most feeders expect, too, if they're experienced and polite, and many men offer Listerine and a blazing hot shower to help clean their eaters up after mealtime. I was trained better than that, though. Knees wobbly, I hopped off the stool and fell to the floor, landing squarely in the mess I had created beneath me -it was an anonymous sludge of stale cow piss, fresh bull shit, old trough sewage from the bathtub, my own sperm, sweat, and some of my own shit, coated in the juices of my innards. Panting, I slumped into the mess helplessly and looked to my feeder for further instructions. Most of the time, especially with human feeders, I could expect an end to the festivities and cleanup to begin, and maybe a scheduling of future playdates. Not this time. Master's feeders were trained better than that, too. I ate everything beneath me. I sucked my feeder's gloves clean, and he squat over me in the barn and fed me directly, then let me wash it down with his piss. He jacked off into the trough, incensed by the entire evening, and I sucked down mouthfuls of fermented cow shit to eat up his cum. I was full then, stomach almost bursting with waste, gurgling and bubbling the entire time it tried to digest today's meals. For the rest of the night, I sucked and cleaned cow ass with my tongue and lips as master's feeder recorded me. I was forced to talk dirty the entire time, but I didn't mind -the more videos we made, the more potential feeders I might run into, animal or human, farmer or stranger. I thanked each bull between mouthfuls of flushed sewage and drank jars of stale oxen urine on cam. "This stuff is delicious fresh, look!" I'd turn my mouth and let cow shit get pushed past my tonsils into my throat, smacking loudly the entire time. I'd make big, dramatic gulps and lick my lips clean, then show the camera my tongue. "Aaaah. See?" Brown and wet but in a young mouth ready to accept more, I smiled at the camera and wiggled my tongue around like an obscene cock-sucking whore, but what I was eating was worse -much worse, and much more fun. That weekend was one of the best of my life, and certainly the most fun in my shit-eating career. Master's friend would later condom up and fuck me, and I sucked the condom clean afterwards. He had a few stud dogs, but their shit was being saved in a bucket for another bottom's training weekend, and I pouted -but he still let the dogs fuck me and I sucked them clean afterwards, making raunchier and raunchier videos for the world to see. I had sex with his donkeys a couple times and made some rimming videos, but mostly I ate bull shit, a lot of it -bags and bags and bags of it. That evening, I slept in the trough, dipping my stained small body into a cold and clammy mess of putrid cow shit. The blanket, now brown and wet and rank, was draped over me and the barn locked until morning, dark and filthy and reeking. I woke up hard several times, gleefully rubbing the pasty mess against my balls and nipples and using my hands to push firmer shit chunks into my submerged body. In the morning, I was ushered out and purged into a field -training weekends like this were one of the few times I didn't recycle my own shit, because master placed priority on all my other feeders. The entire weekend was caught on camera, my face pressed obscenely against animal assholes to eat from and clean them, my hands snaking their way in to scoop out handful after handful of waste. My feeder made me eat blindfolded, playing guessing games -how old was the shit I was eating, and was it cow or bull? Inbetween the feedings, my insides stayed sticky with dog sperm and donkey cock, and my feeder showed me the comments I was receiving on my performances, taking another dozen videos on top of the material floating around the filthy underworld. I merely smiled, giving a bright grin to the camera every time a dog mounted me or whenever I got recorded eating cow shit on camera. By the end of the weekend, I had probably swallowed thirty pounds of varied animal feces, buckets upon buckets of waste in different colors and textures, different levels of decay and fermentation and rot. My lips sucked it fresh out of animal assholes and from bathtubs left in the sun. I had played in it, slept in it, smeared every inch of my body inside and out with it, rubbed it into my hair and my foreskin and eaten it -tons of it. I masturbated, came, and kept eating. I came from my feeder rubbing my prostate with animal shit and kept eating. I came from swallowing, hands-free, and kept eating. I stopped focusing on myself and just enjoyed the buffet, occasionally taking a reprieve to let my feeder or his animals have their way with me. I flushed my meals down with dog piss and bull urine and after the weekend was over, master came to pick me up, a broad smile appearing on both our faces as we looked upon each other -master and slave, feeder and eater. We took home two five-gallon buckets of stud bull shit for me to play with over the next week -it only lasted three days before I had swallowed every last molecule of feces in those buckets and licked the sweaty lids clean. I was insatiable and submitted to anything and everything -nothing was too hardcore to be caught on camera if it meant I got fed afterwards. A week after the barn, master sent me to a pig farmer. I entered blindfolded and gasped in excitement to see a heavy steel weight rack outfitted with restraints and plastic tubing -already familiar with the runny texture of pig shit, I was to be tube-fed and funneled pig shit for the weekend. A new feeder appeared to host me. "You're the fucked-up little cunt in those animal vids, eh?" I nodded as master restrained my arms and placed a speculum into my mouth, forcing it to stay wide open. It was attached to a septic tank via plastic tubing floating overhead, filled with discolored pig slurry that I knew was going to be passed through my body in the coming days. Once he locked the tube in, the mess would slowly slither into my throat, where I would be forced to digest it for days. There was a camera standing on a tripod facing directly at me. I looked on at the two men behind it. "You mind if I test him out? Haven't gone in three days." Master shook his head. The man pulled his jeans down and pushed his sweaty backside to me, thick and musky and hairy. Master pressed the camera's record button and we began another weekend of training. "What do we say, boy?" "Hhhannk yuuouu, hhhirrr." Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir. I ate. ---------------------------------------------------------------- [END] Enjoy this story? Share feedback or your own experiences at rottweilertoilet@gmail.com, and don't be shy -you're not alone. 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