Pooped (version 2)

It figured.

She stood staring at the sign posted on the doors for the parking garage elevator.

out of service-use stairs

Today she’d chosen to wear five-inch heels to work.

Today she’d chosen to wear a short flirty skirt, to celebrate the glorious spring morning.

Today she’d been up and down and all over the building, on a day when she normally spent her eight hours sitting behind a desk, on the phone, on the computer.

Her feet throbbed. Served her right for dressing like a slut for work, she supposed. And the day had turned gloomy, dark rain clouds pouring through the blue sky, the temperature dropping by lunchtime.

She hadn’t bothered with a coat this morning.

Shivers ran up her legs and under her short hem, as a cold wind blew through the garage. It teased at her pussy and ass, and set her nipples into hard points of chill.

She had even chosen to work overtime tonight. And now, at ten p.m. the place was deserted. And her feet hurt. And it was too cold to take off her shoes and run up the concrete steps, even if she hadn’t wanted a run in her twenty-dollar stockings.

Turning, she began the climb to level six.


She was out of breath, but warmed up a bit from the exercise. Her toes cramped, her arches screamed as she exited the stairwell. Her car sat, of course, in the furthest corner. A gust of wind slammed into the building, howling as it rounded concrete girders. She moaned a little as the whorl of frigid air wrapped around her as she stumbled towards refuge.

Frozen fingers fumbled with the keys, shivers wracking her as she tried to stab  her key into the door lock. Why she had yet to upgrade to a vehicle with one of those electronic button locks was beyond her.

A hand closed over hers, a body pressed against her.

“Don’t fight me. You’re alone and no one will hear you anyway.”

A hand raised her skirt, baring her ass to the cold air.

“Please…” she tried to scream, but it came out a croak.

“You’ve been flaunting this ass all day. You offered, I’m taking.”

The thin strap of her panties snapped. It tickled along her clit as he tugged it free.  Cold fingers explored the slit and she squirmed. Too cold…too terrifying. She knew the voice but couldn’t place it, fear and cold-fogged brain making her sluggish. A finger gathered moisture, plunging into her pussy.

She didn’t want to be excited.

“Wet cunt. Begging to be violated.”

She shook her head but he merely laughed against her ear, his breath the warmest thing she’d felt since leaving work.

“You don’t want me to fuck this wet pussy?”

She shook her head. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be warm. She wanted…

“Okay. I won’t fuck your pussy then.”

The finger slid backwards, and pressed up against her anus.


Too late, sunk up to a knuckle, she felt herself rising to her toes to avoid the piercing of her rectum. He pushed up, wiggling his way deeper.

“Needs a bit of stretching…”

In, out, up, around, his finger fucked and circled, pulling and tugging at the tight little hole. As fast as it had gone in, it was gone.

As fast as she could sigh in relief, there was a thicker, firmer pressure against her backside.

“NOOOO!” she yelped, but the sound was snatched away by the wind, even as the flared head plunged upward, breaking wide the tight barrier, and filling her ass with cock.

A hand fisted in her hair, tugging her neck back, further back, arching her spine, opening her for his rapid pounding. Her hips and belly pressed against the bitter cold metal of her car as her ass was heated by the thick shaft drilling her behind. She could almost see him…

He pulled out of her bum like pulling a ripcord during free-fall; quick and violent.  Spinning her around, he pushed her to her knees on the freezing, dirty concrete, his hand tugging at her hair.

Her mouth opened as she squealed in pain, then gagged around the dirty cock shoved between her spread lips.

“Suck it, drink it, clean it.”

His voice was as dark as the night, as cold as the wind, as he plunged into her mouth, filling her with thick rivers of cream tinged with the tang of poo from her ass.

Gagging, choking, he nonetheless held her mouth on him until it was swallowed.

“Good girl.”

Taking the car key from her, he unlocked the door, then guided her to the passenger seat.

“I’ll drive tonight.”






“Keep your face down. I only want ass.”

Her nose a scant inch from the water in the toilet, she shivered. A mix of revulsion and excitement raced from her cunt to her nipples. They touched the cold porcelain of the john as she braced her hands on the rim of the seat, as he held her hips in his hands, fucking her asshole.

The toilet stank of his shit, taken just a few minutes ago, and which he hadn’t bothered to flush. He’d called her in to admire the fat log of poop in the toilet. And made her look closely. She thought she might vomit. That’s when he told her to keep her nose down there, admiring his shit, while he decided to avail himself of her on-display asshole.

Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to breathe in short snatches through her mouth, but the gag kept rising, the stink all-pervasive. She shifted, trying to snatch some clean air.

“Stand the fuck still.”

His words growled into the room as his cock hammered roughly into her, stretching her, making her anus throb with the relentless push and tug.

“Gonna fill you..fill you fulll…..”

The gutteral groan presaged his release; she could feel the thickening of his cock as it spurted inside her bowels. There was a slick pop as he pulled out, the quick hot splash of cum on the top of her ass cheek.

Reaching around her, he grabbed her hair, wiping poo from her hole off his shaft.

“Now you can flush.”

Turning, he shoved his cock into his jeans and went back to watch the game.



Sorry I have been neglecting the dark side for a while ….

I stopped because I was having…I dunno…second thoughts? That whole Castro thing really made me freak out.

But we’ve been talking some about that…the nature of intent, the role of porn in that intent, and the culpability (if any) in erotica/erotic writers in the actions of deviants who believe that acting out on these fantasies on non-consenting people is okay. Because. It. Is Not. Okay.

It haunted me, you see. That someone might read here and get an idea to do something bad, something sexually deviant to some unknowing someone because they got the nugget of an idea from me.

Which was why I stopped writing that one series. And why I stopped letting my dragons loose much at all.

But after talking it over with a few of my fellow erotic writers, I think I am okay with going back, with trying again, with giving my dark fantasies another spin out in the light of day.

Thanks for bearing with me. As I carve out time to write more, look for some of the nastiness to return. Yanno…because we all have these thoughts somewhere in our psyche…

we are not alone

YOU are not alone

just…don’t act on them,  on someone who is not in consensual relationship with you, okay?

Thanks for understanding…

Hang Time

it’s dark

in the closet

ass hurting from the too-large plug shoved up it

tits aching from the clamps.

Don’t move He said, as he moved the chain  from one nipple up over the hang rod to the other

her feet hurt

with the 6″ stiletto’s  shaping her calves

but she doesn’t dare shift

since He put her on hang time.