Date: Mon, 26 Nov 2012 18:49:43 +0000 From: auto42376091@hushmail.com Subject: Brayden's First Brown Room Adventure - Part 1 (Heavy Scat) Disclaimer: Absolutely no part of the following story is true or real. I write this type of story to satisfy my fantasies. I hope you read them to satisfy yours as well. Regardless, though, do NOT act out your fantasies if they involve children. It's hard enough growing up without having to deal with the realities of sexual child abuse. Oh, yes. Do all the authors and readers of the Nifty site a huge favor. DONATE! Brayden's First Brown Room Adventure Part 1 (Mb (multi), bb (multi), incest, scat, ws, B&D, enema, drugs) Hi there friends. I'm Brayden Allred. I hope you read my story in "Our Papa, Our Pimp." It was a pretty rough story because my brother Riley's and my life was pretty rough until my now Daddy rescued us. If you haven't read it, you can find it on ASSTR at http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Antonio_Green/ Anyway my Papa and Uncle Tony got me started whoring myself when I was almost but not quite nine. They joined me up in this special Boy Slut Troop -- kind of like Boy Scouts but we did sex. I became a boy whore then. The first time there I met Scout Masters Chris, Tim, and Nick. I got to suck their cocks and also my Papa and Uncle Tony's. When that was all done, I got royally fucked by everyone except the cameramen. Oh yeah, forgot to tell you. They filmed it all. Funny thing is, as much as it hurt, I really liked it. No, that's a lie. I loved it. Later they taught me what a fucking freak I really am. That was when I got to meet some of the other Scouts including Taylor, who's my big brother now. A brother without any balls and the freakiest dick you've ever seen. This was the first time I serviced clients. It was fucking wonderful. I started going to the Scout House regular after then. A lot of my clients liked doing regular stuff to me. That was fun. I Really liked that. Then there was the Brown Room. Which I'll tell you about now. But first let me tell you why Scout Master Chris is my Daddy and Taylor is my brother. You see, I always thought my Papa was a little mean to me but I hoped he loved me and would eventually show it. Now Uncle Tony, he was always sweet to me. Then one day Riley and me were selling wrapping door to door for the Boy Slut Scouts. We got captured by four real bad men who tortured us. It turns out Papa and Uncle Tony had sold us to them. My own Papa and Uncle Tony! And it turns out that it wasn't my Papa who planned all this -- planned everything. It was my Uncle Tony! Thank god Scout Masters Chris, Tim, and Nick and a bunch of cops who were boy lover clients rescued us before we got too messed up. Papa and Uncle Tony got what they deserved. They got arrested and charged with stealing some huge amount of money and got sent to prison for a long, long time. It happened in like a couple of weeks. Like Daddy says, when you've got as much money as he has, things just sort of happen. The reason they got sent up for stealing was that way no boys would have to testify. Before all this, Scout Master Chris had told me he was like my Daddy. Well after he rescued us, he became Riley's and my real Daddy. He legally adopted us and Antonio and Teddy -- the two boys my Papa and Uncle Tony were raping while they watched Riley and me being hurt. So everything is cool for Riley and me and Teddy and Antonio. (I hella love those little guys). So now the Brown Room. It's about two and a half years ago, the night before my tenth birthday. Papa and Uncle Tony (we were still with them then) took Riley and me to this incredible restaurant I totally loved. Now at ten I didn't eat a lot of food because I was really small. I'm bigger now, but still small and still don't eat a lot. Anyway that night, Papa said he had a special surprise for my birthday if I ate everything. I so wanted him to do something -- anything -- special for me. I knew I'd eat a whole frigging cow if he wanted. So I ate this huge juicy chili cheeseburger. And extra chili. And broccoli. Lots of it cuz I'm weird for a kid. I love broccoli. Only it makes me fart something awful. Then we had cake and ice cream. This was the best birthday meal I ever, ever had. I was so super stuffed I thought I'd bust. Riley ate a lot too, but nothing like I did. When we got home, Riley and I went to bed. We were so full we didn't even play the mouth game with each other. Even though Riley was 7 by then and knew the right word was blow job or suck job, we still called it the mouth game with each other. With Papa and Uncle Tony we said blow job or sucking. And I used those words with clients. At that time Riley only did mouth stuff with Papa and Uncle Tony and me. He wasn't involved with clients. So I slept really well but woke up having to poop bad. And pee, too, of course. I was heading to the bathroom when Papa stopped me in the hall. "No, boy. No bathroom for you this morning. You've got special clients this morning." I had to squeeze my cheeks real tight to keep from doing it right there in the hall. But I've gotten pretty good at holding my poop. I love the way a full pooper feels, so I like to hold it as long as I can. Pee too. Only squeezing my butt this time made me squirt some pee on the floor because I was naked like almost always. Papa didn't have to say a word. I dropped to my knees and licked it up. It's not the first time I'd done it, both here and at the Scout House with clients. Before I got up from the floor, Papa handed me a tiny, white, footless leotard. "Put this on then dress in your Scout Uniform. Long pants today, not shorts. And hurry up. We've got to be at the Scout House in half an hour." I struggled to get the leotard on since it was really tight. But I loved the way it felt. The trip to the Scout House was beautiful torture. I had to poop so bad that I was prairie dogging. You know what that is, don't you? It where the poop pokes its head out of your hole like a little prairie dog. And every few minutes I'd squirt a little pee. By the time we're there, I had a six inch wet spot on my tan scout pants. This wasn't the first time I'd met a client with a super full bladder with wee squirts on my pants. It was the first time for a fill pooper. Scout Master Tim met us at the door us and pinched my two incher through my pants. "Nice piss spot, Fuck Scout Allred," he said saluting my with our special Boy Slut Scout salute. "I know this is your birthday, so we've got some special birthday clients for you. I know you'll like it a lot today." "Red Room?" I asked. "Nopers. Brown Room." I'd never been in the Brown Room. Didn't know what it is, even. I was curious and I knew it would be fun. Whatever it was. I loved every fucking thing about this place. Papa left and Scout Master Tim escorted me way at the back of the Scout House. Now if you didn't read "Our Papa, Our Pimp," you don't know that the Scout House is a mansion. Taylor says it has 23 rooms, not counting bathrooms. So this room I stood in front of has a brown door. I kind of expected the walls to be brown when Scout Master Tim opened the door. They aren't. The Brown Room walls are light tan and the entire room is tiled including the walls and the ceiling! There are a bunch of drains in the the floor as well as showers with drains along one wall. There are like five huge mattresses on the floor, big enough for four or more people on them. I glanced around and saw these stand things that you see on TV hospital shows. You know the type. They hang blood or medicine on them. Only enema bags dangled on these stands. God, I love enemas! And all around the room there were all types of sex toys: dildoes of all sizes and shapes -- including a 2-foot double ended one -- vibrators, butt plugs, and things I didn't recognize. Looking at everything I got the bubbly excited feeling inside. Could this really be what I thought it was. Scout Master Tim pulled out a small case with a hypodermic syringe. I reached my arm out and took the shot of Cialis and Ecstasy -- a standard shot for us boys so we'll stay hard and enjoy what we do. The Scout Masters carefully monitor our use so we're never hooked. Unless you consider us hooked on the sex. He leaned down, kissed me on the lips, slipped his tongue inside and probed my mouth for about a minute. I almost lost butt control but squeezed tight just in time. By the time he pulled his mouth off mine, my wet spot was twice as big. "Happy birthday to my favorite Poopoo Boy," he whispered. Then he left, closing the door behind him. How did he know I was a poopoo boy? How did he know that deep, dark place I didn't let anyone -- not even Riley -- know about. I looked around the room more carefully and wondered what would be expected of me this day. When I first started being a boy whore, I didn't really like it. It was embarrassing getting naked in front of strangers and doing all the stuff they wanted us to do. But I got used to it pretty fast. I got to understand how the shame was a turn on for me (and for them!). I hated the pain but loved it. It's taken a long time to figure that out. What I ended up understanding about it all -- the nakedness, the sucking, the fucking, the tortures -- was that I'm just one of those kids who's made for this life. I know I'll go to college and probably do something cool in science when I get older. But I like being a little sex toy for now. And the puberty suppression drugs I've been taking since I first started as a Boy Slut Scout will keep me that way for a long time. So while I've figured all this out over the three years I've been a boy whore, I knew by the time I first went into the Brown Room that I liked pleasing men. So, the big question in my mind that day was "what will they want from me?" My gut was really full and my pee pipe was dripping steadily. I figured they'd want some piss games -- which I fucking ADORE. Most of my clients want me clean back though when they fuck me. They don't want poop on their dicks. It's funny, but I'm cool with it. That's why Papa enemas me before I go with clients. So maybe these new clients want to fuck me full up. That would be cool because it makes it fuller, tighter, nastier feeling. Papa and Uncle Tony both do that sometimes. Or maybe they'd want to give me an enema before the fuck me. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. It'd be really embarrassing letting out all the poop I had inside. And I had a lot. It was pressing so hard on the inside of my poop hole I was prairie dogging like mad. If they wanted to do that, would they want to see it come out? There weren't any regular toilets in the Brown Room, so where would I go? On the floor? Into one of the floor drains. Embarrassing for sure. But nasty and exciting. I was dizzy with anticipation by the time I heard the door open again. Two men walked in but left the door open. They examined me closely, turning me around slowly. One knelt at my rear and fondled my cheeks and poked into my poop hole through my scout pants. He leaned near and sniffed deeply. He stood up and smiled at me. "You're a good boy, you know. The men here said you haven't defecated yet even though you probably have to do so badly." I guess I made the squinched up `I don't know what you're talking about face' my Uncle Tony used to tease me about. "I'm sorry, Riley," the man continued. "My name is Dale and my twin brother here is Eric. And you're wondering what `defecated' means. Defecate is another name for `shit' or `poop' or `poo.' Which word do you prefer? And you do need to go now don't ? But you haven't gone yet, right?" It feel funny talking about this in front of strangers. "I guess I say `poop' mostly. But I like to say `poo' too cuz it sounds softer. Squishier. And I really gotta poo bad right now." Were those words really coming out of MY mouth? "How long can you hold it?" Eric asked. I shrugged. "Few more minutes, I guess. If I keep letting some pee out, maybe longer. Do you guys want to watch?" They both smiled and glanced at each other. "Yes, very much," Eric said. "We'd love to see your tight, well-fucked little hole spread open and your beautiful shit come out. But that's not what we have in mind right now, is it brother?" In answer, Dale turned his head toward the open door and called out, "Daniel! Come on in now." I couldn't believe my eyes. In walked a gorgeous, smallish, dark haired boy. He was small but he didn't look really young. The boy gasped as he entered. "Oh Daddy! You said he was beautiful You were so right. I love him! You know how much I love blond boys. He's perfect. He's the perfect birthday present." He ran over and kissed the man called Dale, who I guessed was his father. It felt a little weird. It was like he was talking about a puppy. Well, I guess being a boy whore I am kind of like a puppy to some of my clients. I don't like my clients saying I'm pretty or beautiful. While I've done tons of stuff with the other scouts, this is the first time I've had a boy client. First thing for everything. So I didn't mind him saying it at all. Eric disengaged from his son's deep, mouth-probing kiss. "We have a bit of coincidence here, Brayden. You see it's my son's birthday is today, too. Just like yours. He's 12. He asked for someone around your age he could play with. That is, play the games he's played with his uncle and me for many years. With someone this sweet, someone so beautiful, how could I say `no'?" Daniel walked over to me. "Hi. I'm Daniel," he said in a voice suddenly husky with desire. "Daddy told me you're Brayden. That's such a pretty name. Just like you." He lightly touched the wet spot in front of my pants. His touch got more and more firm until he was pressing hard on my dink. He leaned in and kissed me, lightly on the lips at first. He pulled away to look at me, then pressed his lips full against mine. His tongue pushed its way between my lips and began sweeping around my teeth. Since I began tongue kissing with clients, I've developed an automatic response where the spit just starts flowing. I guess my mouth or my brain -- something -- knows that's what they want. I didn't really know if this was what Daniel wanted, but my mouth started filling with saliva like I was a hungry dog. I guess he liked it because he began gulping it down and added his own mucous to mine. He squeezed by bone hard enough to raise a little yelp from me. "God, you're so hard. Me too. Must be the shots they give us. Your dickie is so cute feeling. I love little boy dicks so much." He was kind of rambling. I guess he wasn't as used to the E as I am. He knelt down and clamped his mouth over where the hard tip of my dink pushed against the cloth of my pants. He didn't have to ask. I started pissing. After a couple of gulps, he squeezed my pisser tight, shutting off the flow. "Wanna save some of that and get it direct," he said. A grumbling rumbled through my guts. Uh oh. Didn't want to lose it right then. That would be way too embarrassing. I could feel a huge mass pressing right up against the backside of my poop hole. I willed it back, but I didn't know how long I could hold it. Daniel started unbuttoning my shirt. "I want to see you with everything off. Everything except what you're wearing under your pants. Please?" He squeaked when he asked me. His voice was like I've seen with a couple of the other scouts when their voice is changing. It's then I noticed just the tiniest shadow of of hair on his upper lip. "Want me to dance?" I asked? "No way," he squeaked again. "I couldn't wait for that." I wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that. What couldn't he wait for? Was he about to cum in his pants or something? Being a good little whore, I began stripping quickly. Daniel took care of my shoes and socks. I stripped off my shirt and tee shirt. When I got to my pants, he unzipped them and helped me off with them so I could do it standing. "Now the rest of us," he proclaimed, his voice back to normal. In moments both men were completely nude. Both were super hard -- Cialis maybe? And the E? Identical twins, I guess, with identical cocks. I'd gotten good at guessing with all the sizes and shapes I've seen over the past year. Their cocks looked to be about 7" and THICK. Real thick. If they wanted to fuck me full up in my butt, I would be super stuffed with those things. Daniel stopped at his underwear. Jockeys but not like any I'd ever seen. They were like Underoos but instead of cartoon characters, his panties were printed all over with images of naked little boys -- really little boys -- all with boners of different sizes and shapes. "Cute, aren't they?" Daniel asked me. "Uncle Eric had them special made for me and gave them for my birthday. Which is today. Just like yours! I'm twelve today and you're ten. I got a dozen of them, all different. My favorites have the boys doing what we're gonna do. But I didn't want anything to happen to them so I wore these." Right on the front of the underpants was a little toddler boy full front naked with a straight up sticking boner. The tip of the printed boner stuck out, though, pushed out by Daniel's bone. I had a feeling the design was on purpose. Cute. "I want to see it. Okay?" I asked. "Almost. Watch first." The material right at the tip of the printed boy's dink started to darken. Then a spurt of pee squirted out, followed by a steady flow. Daniel's unders were getting wet but it looked all the world like the little printed toddler boy was doing it. I couldn't help myself. I usually wait for my clients to tell me what to do, but I couldn't help myself. I dropped to my knees, stuck my tongue out, and let Daniel's piss fill my mouth. Fuck it tasted so bitter. Really strong. Really, really good. Daniel stopped all too soon. I knew he still had a bunch left. As strong as it was, Daniel had been saving his pee just like I had. "Pull `em off, Brady" Daniel commanded, using a nickname for me no one had used before. I pulled the underpants down and off Daniel's skinny legs. Fuck! His cocklet was unbelievable. Super, super hard, about 4 1/2 inches, and sticking out at a 45 degree angle. Uncut, like me. The head poking through a really tight foreskin. "I bet you've seen uncut cocks before, haven't you? But ever seen one on a boy?" I giggled. "I'm uncut. So's my little bro. Your cock is gorgeous. Just like you." I started to stand up, but the bending and twisting to stand put pressure on my tummy. A loud fart exploded from my butt. Broccoli fart. Those are the worst. All farts smell like shit but broccoli farts smell like shit plus rotting broccoli. The two men started fanning in front of their noses. Daniel didn't Instead he took a really deep breath, trying to get as much of my stench as possible. "Yummy, yummy," he said. "That smells so yummy." But the twisting and turning and the fart all loosened my asshole. I had to go. And go right now. No way I wanted to do it in front of Daniel. I squeezed my cheeks as tight as I could and waddled over to Dale. I pulled his head down so I could whisper in his ear. "I gotta poo real bad, sir. Please can I go over there?" I pointed to the farthest corner of the room where a large drain awaited my bowels. In answer, Dale gently stood me, lifted me under the shoulders, and carried me back in front of Daniel. When he put me down, I doubled up in tummy pain. Daniel lifted my head and began licking my face. "I know. I know, baby," he whispered in a low, thick voice. "I know what you gotta do." He pulled me close, wrapped his left arm around my middle, and cupped his right hand over my butt outside the leotard. Right on top of my poop hole. He squeezed firmly but gently. Another rotten broccoli fart, loud, rumbling, fetid. I tried to hold back. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to shame myself in front of the beautiful boy. I tried so hard to hold back, tears dribbled down my cheeks. Daniel squeezed a little bit harder and said out loud, "This is what I want for my birthday. Please give it to me it." I had no choice. I let go. I couldn't help it. Another room filling fart and my hole opened up and a long, soft poop snake worked through my open pooper hole. I could feel it piling up in the seat of my leotard. The first batch was out, but I could feel more -- lots more -- still inside. I clamped my hole as tight as I could. Why the fuck did I eat so fucking much last night? There's no way I would let any more poo come out. Humiliation overwhelmed me. My tears flowed freely. I ducked my head and tried to burrow into Daniel's chest, to hide away from my shame. "No. No, baby," Daniel cooed into my hair. "It's okay. Don't cry. It's my fault, not yours. This is what I asked for. This what I begged for from my Daddy and Uncle. I wanted my very own Poopoo Baby. Only I didn't know I would so totally fall in love with my Poopoo Baby. I'm sorry I had you do this. Please forgive me. Please don't hate me." Daniel sounded so sad then. I kept my head down for a minute collecting my thoughts. Since I was five -- before I started in the Scouts, before I started playing pee and mouth games with Riley -- I loved my poopoo. No one knew. I'd poop in my hand and squeeze it softly. I'd sniff it. Lick it. Even a few scary times I'd take a tiny bite of it. I'd lock the bathroom door in our old, junky house and poop right on the dirty linoleum and dance around my offering. As I got older, I got more daring. A few times when Papa and Uncle Tony had taken Riley out someplace, I'd do exactly what I'd just done. I'd poopoo my pants. I'd leave it in and walk around the house feeling so nasty. If it was a firm poop, I'd sit down on it and let it squish against my hole. I always made sure I cleaned up any evidence. No one knew. Or did they? I lifted my head and snuggled into Daniel's chest. He was crying, now. His hand was still cupped around the load in my pants. I think he'd forgotten to move it. I looked up and said, "Poopoo Baby loves his Daniel, too. Poopoo Baby loves poopoo play. Poopoo Baby never did it with anyone before. Poopoo Baby wants to do it with Daniel. I pushed my rump into Daniel's hand. He let his left arm release from around my waist and wiped his eyes. "Daddy," he said softly to his father who was now standing next to us, "Daddy, it's so hot. His poop is really, really hot." I twisted around to look at Daniel's father and uncle. They stood on either side of me filming the indignity of my soiling myself. Eric was stooped at my rear filming the load I'd left in my leotard. Dale was filming the teary scene unfolding in front of him. Over the year I'd been working as a boy whore, I got used to having my body and my sexual defilement filmed. Got used to it and even enjoyed it, knowing other men would be be able to get off on the often brutal misuse of my body. Misuse and abuse I've grown to love. But I wasn't sure if I liked the idea them filming my pooping myself. Like it or not, though, I really had no choice. So I did like I did with the other men (and one woman) who filmed my abuse. I pretty much ignored it. "Yes sweety," Dale said to Daniel, "it is hot right from the hole. But you already knew that. I'll tell you, it was hot seeing it." "No, Daddy. I mean it. Brayden's poo is hotter than yours or Uncle Eric's or mine or the others. It's almost burning hot." "Well, darling, Brayden is a hot boy!" Daniel took me by the hand and led me over to one of several floor to ceiling mirrors in the Brown Room. We stood inside a shallow, sunken tub about five foot by five foot and about six inches deep. This was the first time I got to see me and Daniel together. He'd looked pretty tall to me, but then I'm tiny. At least that's what one of my teachers called me. So all boys my age and older are taller and bigger than me. But even though I thought he was a lot taller, the mirror showed that he wasn't really. He was pretty small for a 12 year old. Pretty small and very pretty. Daniel had his arm around my shoulder "pal style." It looked good. Him naked and boned up to what looked like 4 1/2 inches. And me in white, piss wet leotards, with my tiny boner making a little lump right at the top of the piss spot. "We look good together, don't we, Brayden?" he asked. I nodded my response. He took me by my shoulders and gently turn me around so my back faced the mirror. "Take a look, Brayden. You look so cute back here." He pressed the lump in my pants gently and kept his hand covering it so when I looked back over my shoulder, I couldn't see anything. "Ta da" he snag, pulling his hand off of my leotard. Wow! It did look cute...if you're a poop freak. Like I am. I thought I'd completely filled my britches, but the lump wasn't that big, really. Maybe the size of an orange. Only it wasn't orange. A dark brown poopoo stain soiled the cloth over the lump and extended out from it a couple of inches all around. Daniel showed me his hand. It had a light brown, moist slime on it. He put it to his nose and sniffed it deeply. He moaned then put it to my nose. It smelled like broccoli shit -- poopy smelling but filled with the deep stench of rotten broccoli. The smell loosened something in my tummy and I cut another loud, stinky, rumbling fart. "Fuck it man," Daniel said. "You stink so bad. Shit I love it." Then he took his hand and licked the fetid slime completely off. He savored the nasty taste. I knew it was nasty cuz I've tasted a little of my own poop over the years. Not much, but enough to know it was nasty, hard to stomach, and wonderfully delicious. Daniel turned me back around to face the mirror. Not so gently but I liked his forcefulness. Then he surprised me. He reached back around and slipped his hand into the back of my leotard. Into my mess. God it felt so good having another pretty boy rummage in my poop. That had NEVER happened. Only I'd ever touched it. I shivered. I call the feeling a soft cum. It's not a full on body shaking one, but I get them if I hold my pee a long time. Or if I see a really sexy boy but don't touch myself. Daniel leaned in closer. "I get those too sometimes. My big cums are wet now. Been jizzing for about a month. My little cums are all dry. I love them." He rummaged around a little bit more and pulled out a hand full of poop. When I'd pooped I thought it was a really soft one, but it wasn't that soft. "Droopy poopies. That's what I call these," Daniel said. I giggled. "Me too! Do you have names for your types of poops?" "Shit yeah. And I love droopy poopies. They're the most fun to play with. Except for turd fucking poop." `Turd fucking poop.' I had no idea what that was. Daniel didn't explain. Instead, he stood back about a foot away and dipped his finger into the poopy mass in his left hand, With me watching in the mirror, he started drawing on high up on my chest. "You're so tiny, I gotta write small," he said. The smell was gorgeous. Pure, nasty, disgusting broccoli shit smell. He moved in the way so I couldn't seeing my reflection, so I tried to figure out what he was writing. First I could feel a `D.' Then an "A.' Then it was hard to keep track. He kept writing, moving down my torso. I could read what he'd written right above my nipples: "Daniel's." That was all I could read. The last bit he pulled the top of my leotard down so that it trapped my bone and wrote the last of the letters. Finally, he stood up. He'd used about half the poo in his hand to write on me. He smiled at his handiwork, pulled the front of my leotard away from my body and pushed what was left in his hand into my front. He reached in and smeared the mess all over my dink. My steel hard, throbbing dink. I'd NEVER done that. I'd thought of it but was afraid to do it. Daniel lifted his filthy hand to his nose. This guy loved stink smell, just like me. Then he licked his hand. Over and over like he was licking chocolate off it. Only it wasn't chocolate, it was my poo. My soft, stinky poo. My dookie. My caca. My shit. His hand about half clean, he rubbed the remains on my face then leaned close. He began licking my face clean like a mama cat cleaning her kitten. Then when my face was clean, he leaned in and kissed my lips gently. Then his tongue poked in. AW fuck! The poop taste. Bubbling into my mouth through his saliva. He tongue fucked my mouth and while doing it, hocked a loogie from deep in his throat and slid it like a poop and snot-flavored raw oyster into my mouth. (Yeah. I've tasted raw oysters. They're nasty shit. One of my clients thinks they make you horny. They only make me want to hurl. The only things that make me horny more than just me being me is E and Cialis). We swirled Daniel's loogie around until it melted into our saliva and dripped down our throats. "Wanna see what I wrote?" Daniel asked, grasping the waistband of my leotard. Gradually he pulled downward, slowly revealing the words he'd printed in my poop on my torso. Gradually revealing my now shit-sticky dink. He stepped beside me looking at my reflection as I did. Above my nipples: "DANIELS" Across my tummy -- a skinny, scrawny tummy: "POOPY" Across my abdomen, an inch above my straining, iron dink: "BABY" "Daniels Poopy Baby," I read out loud. "I love it!" I touched my poopy dink. Grasped it. Started rubbing it with my own shit that Daniel had smeared on it. Daniel pulled at my leotard so I'd step out of it. He took my left hand and turned it palm down. Then lifted my poopy leotard up and gently placed my hand on the mess in the seat. I scooped some of it out and looked closely at it. Reddish-yellow brown. Thin, semi-soft droopy poopy snake. Mine. My poopoo. My disgusting shit. From up inside me. A couple of days food forced out in a deliberate act of disgusting nastiness. I could feel more of the same pushing at my hole, ready to come out. I didn't know if it was the Cialis, the E, the combination, the shit I was holding that made me want to shit out a pile so big I could bury myself in it. Then I knew. I looked at Daniel. It was him. He was my poo buddy. I dipped my finger into the mass of poo in my hand and wrote in shaky letters down Daniel's torso: BRAYDENS DOODOO DADDY What's funny is that I never call it doodoo. Poo, poop, or shit. That's pretty much it. But somehow, "Doodoo Daddy" seemed right. I took the poo left in my hand and mashed it against Daniel's hard, harder, hardest dick. After all, he'd done me, right? So I could do it to him. That's strange, too. Cuz if you're a boy whore like me, you never do anything unless the client tells you. And even though Eric and Dale were my clients, so was Daniel. But there I was mashing my poo all over his dick, balls, and the four or five straight black hairs above his cock. Daniel squeezed my dink. "You're dribbling real bad, you know that?" I looked down. My dink was dripping pee steadily. Since I was still impossibly hard, it pointed upward and each pulse of pee squirted out away from my pee hole. "I want it. Okay Braydie?" He knelt in front of me and put my hand on on my hard on. "On my face, buddy. All over, even in my eyes." In his eyes? Riley and I play this game sometimes, too. Only in those days he peed on me but not me on him. At that time, my first time in the Brown Room, Riley still didn't like anything dirty on him, not even pee. But he'd pee on me and a few times I got it in my eyes. I hated it. It stung so bad. But now Daniel was asking for it. Go figure. Some of my clients are amazed that I can pee with a boner, but most boys can before they get puberty. I was in a movie restroom once and I stood next to a kid about my age because it was real crowded. I just happened to glance over (yeah, right) when he pulled out this sproingy boner. He glanced at both me and the man next to him and said something like "I gotta piss so bad it's like a steel pipe." And he started right up and sprayed all over the urinal and even on the floor. So with Daniel kneeling in front of me like I kneel in front of my clients who piss on me, I was super hard. I forced my bone down with one finger and pointed it right at Daniel's face. After about ten seconds of concentrating, my piss sprayed from my pee hole hitting him on the forehead. It flowed down and into his eyes, but he didn't blink at all. Then he pulled me closer by my butt cheeks, took my dink from my fingers, and slipped his lips over it. I love doing that to my clients who're into watersports. That's what piss games are called. Funny, isn't it. Like water polo. And a few have drunk my pee that way. But this was a first. A boy -- sexy, cute, beautiful, nasty boy -- taking my dink in his mouth and drinking my piss right from the hose. Not only that, my dink was covered in my poo. Really covered. It was all so hot I couldn't help stop peeing. I had to take a deep breath, concentrate, and start peeing again. Daniel kept the piss in his mouth and let it pool around my dink. It was hot. Then he began gulping. Even so, I was peeing so fast that some squirted from the corners of his mouth. His eyes danced with delight. This kid was as weird as me. Weirder maybe. I could tell he loved my piss taste. I drink mine almost every time I can. And let me tell you, my morning pee is nasty. Strong, salty, bitter. That's why I drink it all. And now Daniel was doing the same and liking it. Maybe even loving it. I wished I could keep peeing for an hour, but the flow started slowing after maybe a minute. Daniel could feel that so he took my dink out of his mouth and let it spray one last time right into his eyes. I looked down. My dink was almost completely clean. Only a few streaks of poop remained. I was happy that Daniel had cleaned it so well, that my poop -- even such a small amount -- was floating around in my pee in his tummy. "Oh," he moaned, "that was so great. You've got really rank piss, you know that sweet cheeks? You don't have to, but would you like to take mine?" I dropped to my knees in answer. Daniel stood up and I grabbed for his dick. I tingled to feel it in my hand. It was a beautiful dick. Four and a half inches. Purple head smeared with my poop. His shaft so iron hard. His poopoo covered shaft. My poo. My dookie on his dickie. I shivered. I pulled it down from its boner stiff stand up position. He pushed my hand away and grabbed it with his and pointed it at my face. "How much you got?" I asked. "Gallons," he said. "I haven't gone since early last night and I've drunk tons of soda. Tell me when cuz I'm ready to burst." I threw him a kiss and nodded my head. Daniel wasn't kidding. No little dribbles to start. Just a fast, hot gush spewing out and hitting me on the forehead and flowing down my face into my eyes. I didn't close them like I'd done the other times. I wanted to feel the sting. I tilted my head back and opened my mouth. Daniel had said my pee was rank. His was ten times so. Bitter. Salty. Hot. Strong. Nasty and so good. He moved forward and placed his pisser on my tongue. I sealed my lips around it. Oh, man, I could taste my filthy poo on his dickie. I gagged a little but I wouldn't pull away. Couldn't pull away. I loved the taste and wanted to taste so much more. More of mine. More of his. Yes! Much more of his poop that I hadn't tasted yet. I had to gulp to keep it from running out my lips. One time I hiccuped and couldn't swallow so a big gush went up and out my nose. Right then, Daniel pinched his flow shut and pulled out of my mouth. My tummy felt so full and my mouth so empty. He stepped back a step and began pissing on my face then my chest, and finally right on the tip of my dink. He then stuck his still super hard dick back in my mouth and continued to piss gallons. I couldn't believe he had so much to give me. It was wonderful. I knelt there, my tummy filling with Daniel's piss, my heart filling with a feeling of love. Finally the gush slowed to a dribble and then just to drops and then nothing. I kept Daniel's cocklet in my mouth and forced it back as far as I could get it. At 4 1/2 inches, it wouldn't get as far as my actual throat, but I gulped and swallowed as hard as I could. Daniel didn't need a second invitation. He started slipping his hardness along my tongue, pushing in deeper and deeper each time. Still fucking my mouth, I heard him say, "Daddy, the pants. Hand `em to me." A little movement, a rustle, a flutter of long white leotard legs brushing my face. The smell of broccoli poo as Daniel took the filthy seat of the leotards and rubbed it on my face as he fucked my mouth with his cock. Then two fingers slipped in alongside his hardness -- poo smeared fingers. My poo. The fingers left then returned. He's feeding me my poo while he fed me his cock. Then his slimy, slippery hands were rubbing my face, smearing me. He grabbed the back of my head with his filthy hands and fucked my face hard. He'd done this before I knew, face fucked someone. My hair felt sticky, matted in back. He pushed in hard and drew one long, deep breath. "Shit fucking mother fucking mother of god little shit faced sexy boy cunt whore fucker shit fucker whore pussy cunt!" Daniel yelled as his dick twitched and squirted three small shots of the sweetest cum I'd ever tasted. I sucked and played with the hard little pipe in my mouth until I knew he'd soften. But he didn't. He stayed as hard as ever but jerked out of me as the sensitivity after a hard cum overtook him. He dropped to his knees, gasping. I looked up at his face, his face now smeared with broad reddish brown shit. My shit. He thrust the seat of the leotard into his mouth and sucked it like a starving baby sucks at his momma's titty. He'd suck then scrape some of the remaining brown mass off with his teeth, then suck some more. Suck, scrape, suck. I glanced into the mirror. Two boys -- one blond and tiny, one dark brown haired and small. Both with their faces well covered in my poo. The words we'd painted on each other's chests were smeared from the hosing they'd taken, but I could still read them. `BRAYDENS DOODOO DADDY.' `DANIELS POOPY BABY' I stretched up toward Daniel's mouth and grabbed the leotard with my lips, sucking the cloth clean of its last remnants of my poopoo. Our lips touched. I kissed Daniel's softly, lovingly, then thrust my tongue in for an intimate swap of spit and tongue battling. I can't really tell you what it tasted like. I could taste pee and poo, a little remaining touch of young boy sperming, and something else I couldn't identify. All I knew is we stayed locked together, moaning softly. Daniel was rubbing the poo on my face, so I rubbed his as we kissed. Then a few drops falling on us like rain. Then a flood. We pulled apart and looked. Not rain! Two sexy, naked men with identical looking cocks spewing hot man piss on us. I'd been so wrapped up in Daniel and what we were doing that I'd forgotten about everything else. But now, I was aware of my surroundings. Their cocks were both firm now, no longer as bonerized as before. I guessed they had to get softer to piss. And piss they did, spraying back and forth between us so that we both got covered in hot man piss from each of them. As if on cue, Daniel and I both opened our mouths at the same time. Oh god they both tasted the same, strong, bitter, salty, and with that same something I couldn't recognize from Daniel's mouth. Then I got it! Ecstasy. Their piss -- and Daniel's -- tasted like E. My 12-year poopoo buddy and I both got sprayed in the eyes, on the hair, in the mouths, on our hardons. Oh man, I wanted it to last for ever. My clients call it a golden shower. I call it heaven, being hard pissed on by a man. As their sprays slowed and stopped -- almost but not quite at the same time -- I realized they no longer held the cameras. But we were still being filmed. Scout Masters Tim and Nick and two other men I didn't recognize -- one black and one white -- stood there with cameras picking up Daniel's and my filthy play. They, too, were naked and each was semi-hard. Daniel shrieked happily like a little girl. "Daddy! You did it. I love you so. Just like I asked." Then to the men filming: "You know what I want right now. Do it guys. Do it." One by one, the men filming came up to the edge of our little tub and first sprayed us with their hot piss and then pushed their spewing cocks in our mouths. I swear I drank more piss that day than I'd ever drunk before. By the time I'd swallowed the last of the men's piss, my head was swimming from all the additional drugs I'd taken in their piss: E for sure, and I'm sure some cocaine as well. One thing about drinking piss, is it upsets my tummy. And this time was no exception. I felt my tummy gurgle and knew I'd lose it again soon. Real soon. Daniel and I were kneeling in this large puddle of urine -- man piss and boy pee. Daniel dropped to his hands and knees and began slurping up the cooling piss, taking special care to suck up the little bits of poop that floated in it. My poop. As Daniel scuttled around sucking up the filth, I took my first chance to see his poop hole up close. I pulled his skinny butt cheeks apart. The first thing I noticed was how smeared his his crack was. Old, crusty poop streaks. Nothing recent. I expected to also see a hole kind of like mine: puffy, bruised rectal tissue ringing the hole making it into a proper boy pussy like mine. But I didn't see that. Instead, I saw a pink rubber circle nestled tightly against the hole. Daniel was plugged! I grabbed the plug end and pulled it gently. "What would happen if I pulled it out?" I asked him. "You'd have two days worth of Daniel dookie fly out at you, Poopy Baby," he answered, looking over his shoulder. "But not now. We got other things to do before we get into serious poopoo play." "Well, I'm going to go again real soon," I replied. "And I still got a lot in me. I can feel it." Daniel called to his dad, "Daddy, plug him quick. I want to have our snack before we do poopoo play." Dale went to one of the cabinets and got a long, wide black rubber butt plug. I've been plugged before -- plugged by butt plugs, dildos, vibrators, and men's cocks of all sizes. This was going to be a stretcher, for sure. I dropped to my knees beside Daniel and pulled his pissy, poopy lips to mine and kissed him softly. I could feel hands pulling my cheeks apart and the hard rubber of the plug being rubbed around the poo remaining in my crack. Then a quick, almost violent shove and the butt plug was seated firmly in my poop chute. The stimulation made me loose control of my bowels. My gut cramped; my hole pushed out violently, like it was trying to rid itself of the plug and a ton of poop from last night's greasy, meaty dinner. But the plug held. I was in tummy pain. Significant, delicious tummy pain. Gradually the pain passed. Daniel stood and lifted me to my feet. "Daddy told me you didn't have anything to eat this morning, so you must be hungry," he asked, stroking my poopy hair. I hadn't thought about food with all that had been going on. And a normal boy -- which I long ago realized I wasn't -- wouldn't have been hungry with the disgusting smell and sights around him. It was at that moment the smell in the room finally became evident. The air was thick with the stench of fresh piss and nasty, disgusting broccoli poo. The stink was even in my nose. I loved it. It made me hungry. I giggled. "I'm starved." I answered. Then I slipped into baby talk. "You gonna give Bwayden poopy bweakfast, pweese. You goona poopy in Bwayden's mouth?" "Not yet, Poopy Baby," Daniel laughed. "We got a special surprise for you. I know you'll love it." Uncle Eric stepped into the pissy, poopy pool and lifted me up, pressing my back against his hairy chest, his hard 7" poking into my back. He shifted me to his right arm and lifted Daniel up with his left arm. Fuck! He was strong. He stood with us facing the large mirror on the wall. Two boys looked back, stinky boys. One dark haired, small boy and one tiny blond haired. I couldn't believe our faces. Daniel and done a great job while I was sucking him. We looked like those awful pictures I've seen of, um, what are hey called? Oh yeah, black-faced minstrels. They were awful, racist guys who painted their white faces to look black so they could make fun of black folks. But we weren't awful, Daniel and me. And we weren't black-faced. We were brown-faced, our faces smeared all over with my poo. It was even in both our hair! Daniel was giggling really hard while he looked at us. "You ever done this before," he asked me. I shook my head `no.' "I love it. I do it a lot on weekends when I don't go to school. Daddy poopoo. Uncle Eric's poopoo. My poopoo. And a couple of friends' poopoo, too. Nice thing, the stink stays in your nose a long time after you wash it all off. Sweet! Then Daniel began singing, singing in a voice like a choir boy, a high, strong voice. No, not like a choir boy, like an angel. A filthy angel. It sounded like something you'd hear in church. "Brayden and Daniel have dookie, caca, poopy faces. Their brown shitty visages are big disgraces. They drank a lot of each others piss and man piss too And shared the piss in a loving kiss and tasted stinky poo. They're going to do so much more before the day is done. Piss and shit and fucking poopy baby is so much fun." "Wow," I said, "your voice is beautiful. Just like you are. And that song, did you just make it up?" Daniel kissed my lips softly. "Kinda. I wrote one like it when I was 10. I'm in the Wildwood Boy's Chorus, so we learn a lot about writing music. And some of us learn other stuff as well. But I'm hella hungry. Let's eat!" All this time, Uncle Eric was nuzzling between our faces, periodically licking one or the other of our cheeks. He carried us to a large brown mat in the middle of the room and put us down on our knees, doggy style. I wondered if we were in for a fuck right then, but Eric and Dale had something else in mind. Daniel's daddy came over with four hot dog buns and handed Daniel and me one apiece. Then he and Eric knelt down with their butt holes facing us. ( Dale said, "Your dad says you love hot dogs. We've got a couple of special ones for you, Brayden." "Do what I do," Daniel chirped excitedly. He put his bun -- they were nice and warm and soft -- right beneath his Uncle's asshole. I sensed what was about to happen. It excited me but I didn't know if I was ready to eat an entire turd. Little bits, yes, but the whole thing? I just didn't think so. But Daniel seemed so excited, I didn't want to disappoint him. After all, it was his birthday. And MINE! So I put the butt under his daddy's hole. As I watched closely, the man's hole slowly expanded, being stretched open by a smooth, brown round shape. I glanced at Daniel. His Uncle's hole was doing the same, almost identically. The shape grew slowly. It was coming from a man's asshole, but it didn't look like poop. When about an inch stuck out the hole, I could tell it wasn't poop. It was a hot dog! Once that first inch was out, it grew quickly. So did the one from Eric's hole. Suddenly it pooped out -- or maybe I should say pooped out. I caught it neatly in the hot dog bun. It was lightly covered in brown streaks. I looked at Daniel. He was in heaven. Dale handed us both another bun. "The next one will come quickly, so be prepared." Quickly it did come, too. In about 15 seconds, both Daniel and I were holding the second offering. These dogs were much nastier, dirtier, poopier than the first. Once the buns were filled, Daniel jumped up excitedly and ran to the table alongside one of the walls with all four hot dogs. I followed. While we'd been busy, someone had set the table. Plastic "Happy Birthday" tablecloth. Paper birthday plates, cups and napkins. In the middle was a platter with the dirty hot dogs. On the wall over the table hung a huge, handmade sign. It was a collage with colored photos of Daniel all over it. Naked, of course. They were of him from when he was pretty young to right now. Some showed him hard. Some showed him peeing. Four photos showed him drinking what had to be pee from a big glass. He looked around 8. By the final one, the glass was empty and Daniel had this incredibly sweet smile on his face. A bunch showed him squatting and pooping, the cutest one he looked 5. And in one he was covered head to toe in what had to be poop. In the middle of the sign was a neatly hand-lettered "Happy Birthday, Brayden!" The sign was covered in plastic I was stunned. "But what about you, Daniel? It's your birthday, too." "I told Daddy I wanted it this way. He showed me your picture about a month ago and I fell in love with you. When Scout Master Chris told me you'd never really had a birthday, I wanted this one to be special. I'm pretty good at lettering, so I wanted to make the sign myself. You notice the letters are brown. Know what I used to write it?" "Your poopoo?" "Actually, no. Not mine. But that part is one of your birthday presents. First we eat, then you get your presents." By this time my mouth was hanging open. I couldn't help it, I began bawling. Hard, really, really hard. I could taste the poopy tears as they ran into my mouth. Daniel grabbed me in a huge hug and pulled my head to his chest. I could feel his heart. It was racing. "What's wrong, Braydie. Maybe I shoulda made a proper sign. Not one with poop. Not one with my pictures. I'm sorry. Tell me how I can make it better." I couldn't stop my bawling. I gasped for air and tried to pull myself together. Slowly, the tears stopped and my breath returned. All this time, Daniel was muttering "I'm sorry. I love you. Please be okay. I wanted your birthday to be so good" over and over again. As I pushed myself away I couldn't help but laugh through my hiccups. Daniel's chest was poopy-tear stained. "I love it, Doodoo Daddy. It's just I never really had a real party with table cloth, cups, plates, everything. And I LOVE my sign! Let's eat." "Before we eat, I got a special kiss for you, Braydie." Daniel bent over and pulled his skinny butt cheeks apart. "Open your mouth over the plug, guy." As soon as I had my lips pressed to Daniel's plugged asshole, I could feel the plug pooch out a little followed by this pfft sound. He'd farted in my mouth! I'd tried doing it to myself and got Riley to do it a couple of times. But Riley was still into his little clean boy stage in those days, so he didn't like doing it. This was awesome! When we sat, Daniel picked the platter of hot dogs and offered it to me. "If you want regular ones," he said, "we got `em." I scanned his offering. There was no way I was going to take regular dogs when I had these to choose from. I thought about taking the cleanest of the dogs since I wasn't used to eating a whole lot of poop. But I decided to be brave and picked up the last one Uncle Eric had pooped out. It was hard to see the hot dog beneath its thick coating of man shit. Daniel chose the least poopiest one. "I wanted to have them in me, but, well, I got other stuff for you instead." He laughed. I took a bite. It was a Miller's frank, the best hot dogs in the whole fucking world. That's what my Uncle Tony used to say and I agree with him. The bun was still warm, soft, and perfect. The dog was juicy, meaty, and still warm from the special warmer it had been in. And the poop on it? I couldn't believe how great a man's shit could taste. It was bitter like all poop seemed to be. All of mine was and the brief tastes of Riley's I'd get sucking on his skid marks or licking him after he'd pooped were. (He did NOT like me to do that, so I only did it a couple of times.) But it was also meaty tasting and kind of sweet. I'm glad I took the poopiest one cuz I loved it. "You can another after you finish this one if you want," Daniel said with him mouth full. "But if it's okay, can you save this one?" He pointed at the last one his daddy had pooped out. It was almost as shitty as the one I was enjoying. "I want to save it for one of your surprise gifts." That was the cue for Dale and Eric to bring me a pile of presents. Over the next 15 minutes, I unwrapped the neatest bunch of presents I'd ever had. They'd all been wrapped in plastic so that they wouldn't get -- in Uncle Eric's words -- "shit-covered like you two filthy, poopoo boys." I'd slowed my eating down while I was unwrapping the games, the clothes, the books -- oh the wonderful books that were my first very own books -- and other gifts. When I was done unwrapping stuff, I pushed the wiener out of the bun and started sucking it like a cock, sucking off the biggest amount of man shit on it. Then I ate the dog. I was still a little hungry so I reached for the other cleaner dog, respecting Daniel's wishes. He held my hand in place. "Daddy, do you have some relish for this wiener," he asked. "And maybe we need a couple more, too." His father picked the hot dog up and pushed it into his hairy asshole. Then Scout Masters Tim and Nick waved a clean dog next to the camera each held. Scout Master Tim bent over and Scout Master Nick shoved one brutally up Tim's hole, just the way he liked things. Then they reversed their positions and Scout Master Tim slowly fucked his dog in and out of Scout Master Nick's really hairy and really poopy hole. I didn't know they were into this brown stuff like I was. Cool. Way fucking cool. "Before we eat those, sweety," Daniel's daddy Dale said, "we have another birthday surprise for you." Scout Master Tim called out, "Okay, we're ready." I knew the room was wired for sound mostly for us boys' safety. The latch on the door clicked. The doors to all the rooms are locked from a master panel so that no one can bust in. But they're also set up so the boys in them can get out fast if there's a problem. I'm not going to tell you how cuz we're not supposed to tell. Also, well maybe if you read this and ever go to the Scout House, then you REALLY aren't supposed to know. But I'd only had to use the emergency switch twice at that time. Scout Master Nick went over and swung the door open. I couldn't believe my eyes. There in the doorway stood two naked boys. One looked about my age, maybe a little older. Yeah, I'd guess he was 9 to 10. He had the most beautiful blue black skin you can imagine. Sparkling brown eyes and loose, curly dark hair.