Coprophagic Initiation

or, How to Make Your Man Beg to Eat Your Shit

I've trained dozens of men to worship my shit now. I'm quite proud that I can get any man, or at least any man who has any interest in any kind of relationship with me, not only to eat my brown treasure willingly, but to beg for it and to willingly accept severe punishment as the price to be paid for the honour. I can take a man who is visibly and obviously revolted at the idea, and within a few months have him beg on his knees to be given fifty strokes of the crop so I will let him lick a pile of cold, congealed shit from the floor. I've never had a failure yet.

Some of my slaves come to me already fully trained and experienced as toilet slaves. Maybe they've come to me because they were in a relationship which gave them what they needed and it has broken up. Or maybe they thought they were "cured" of this "revolting perversion" - but they realise they need it, and they get to hear about me somehow. (Of course I don't think it's revolting or a perversion - but I think that's obvious).

Others come to me because they have secret fantasies of being toilet slaves. They've thought about it, they've imagined a hot turd slithering out of a woman and into their mouth, sliding down their throat, filling their head and belly with the unique and overpowering taste and sensation. They've thought about watching a woman dropping her treasure on the floor in front of them, and taking it into their mouth or licking it up, or smearing it over her body so they can lick it off her skin. They've never tried any of this, they may have hesitated for years or even decades, but finally they think they are ready. They come to me and they are apprehensive and terrified and excited at the same time. I give them a soft introduction (unless they really insist they want more), maybe licking some off my finger. If they can handle that, I'll let them take it direct from me or from a fresh hot pile. Some take to it instantly, others need to be "persuaded" just like the hesitant types I describe below.

The third category are the ones who are not only scat virgins, but they say they want none of it. Maybe they've come to me for very hard pain or humiliation, or as piss slaves, but they definitely do not want to do scat. I tell them that they can only be my slaves if they try it, and I promise them that I will have them begging me for it. They laugh, or gag (one actually threw up just at the idea), and tell me they're sorry but it's impossible. I insist, they can leave, for ever, or they can have what they crave but they will have to face up to my shit. Nobody has left for ever yet. For the ones who are most repelled or the most adamant, I tell them that if they don't want to eat a whole dump from me there and then, they will have to take an extra beating, maybe fifty strokes of the crop. Some of them agree to this. When I have finished I tell them that inside three months, they will beg me for the same beating as the price to pay for my shit. Of course they don't believe me. Then I make them take some anyway. A mistress must always be in charge and must always keep her slaves off balance.

Rather than generalise, let me tell you about one slave in particular. I call him "poodle", for no good reason except it seems a good name for a slave. He showed up at my place wanting heavy beatings and humiliation. I go through a standard routine with new slaves, to find out what they want - or what they think they want, which often turns out to be different. Whatever we dommes like to think, the sub is always somewhat in charge, so this has to be done in a way that doesn't let them think so. It was a cold, rainy day when he came to me, so I held the interrogation out in the back yard behind the boarded-up shop under my flat. I sat on a chair in a hooded rubber catsuit and rubber boots, protected from the chilly drizzle, while he was on all fours naked on the cracked, dirty ashphalt, cold and wet. I made him look down as he spoke, whacking him with the crop from time to time.

"You'll have to drink my piss", I said.

"Yes mistress. I know mistress. I've never drunk piss and I'm not sure I like it, but I know I'll have to."

"And you'll have to eat my shit", I added.

"No mistress, not that. I couldn't. I've never wanted to. It makes me feel ill even to think about it."

"That wasn't a question. You'll try it, or you'll leave right now. And you'll beg me for it, sincerely and from the bottom of your degraded slave heart, long before I've finished with you." He shook his head, speechless for a moment.

He agreed to take fifty extra strokes of the crop, if I would spare him my shit. He took them well, only yelling towards the end. At the end of our first session, when he was excited and truly in submission to me, I crouched in front of him and dropped just one small turd. He was outraged, even through his submission. He started to protest but I quickly shut him up, before he had a chance to let himself down badly. I took a little on my finger, and with him watching I opened my mouth and licked it off as though it was the greatest delicacy (which, of course, it is). He looked rather ill. I took some more, and put it to his mouth. His lips remained tightly closed. I beat him a little, but still his mouth was shut. I smeared it on his lips, but to no effect except that he looked even more ill. I picked up what remained in my palm and grabbed his monster erection, smearing shit up and down it as I wanked him. I teased him for a long time, stopping when I felt him tense, ready to come, and starting again only as he softened. I was able to keep him on the brink like this for ten minutes or so, every now and then dribbling on the sticky mess in my hand to keep it soft. Finally I let him explode, a great fountain of cum shooting from his engorged cock, followed by wave after wave of the stuff dribbling down my hand and mingling with the shitty mess that had lubricated him. As he started to soften I wanked him some more, mixing the fluids together into a kind of cream. In his excitement he had licked his lips clean of the shit that covered them earlier, as I knew he would. I caressed him until he was hard again, then licked a little of the mess from my hand (I just love that!) before pressing it to his mouth. He pulled a face and turned away, so I smeared his lips and pushed my finger between them, before returning to his cock and slowly bringing him to a second orgasm. That was enough for today, and I sent him off to clean himself up.

On his second visit, I asked him again if he wanted to take fifty strokes or eat the whole of a dump of my shit. As I expected, he took the fifty strokes, and then a long session of pain and humiliation. At the end I gave him much the same treatment as before, but this time I made him wank himself after I had got him good and messy with my shit. This time there was no shock effect, which was the idea, to make it seem a routine part of his pleasure and of course to associate pleasure with my little present to him. On his third visit, I took a full dump - no little one-off turds this time - and pushed his face into it before I let him come, holding it there until he was forced to open his mouth just to be able to breathe. At the start of his fourth visit, I gave him another interrogation - my standard practice, around this time, to see how things are going and how the slave's ideas have changed now that they have experienced the reality of their fantasies. This time I made him sit naked in a bath full of cold water. When I asked him if he was ready yet to beg to eat my shit, he replied,

"I don't like it, mistress. It tastes horrible and it makes me feel sick for hours afterwards. But you know, it kind of turns me on as well, when you toss me with it and I can smell it in my mouth. I'll never beg for it, that's for sure, but, well, maybe I'm a bit sick but I'm kind of getting used to it."

That was about what I was expecting, and showed that my technique was working just like it usually does. By the sixth visit, I had him on what I suppose I could call the Four Step Program for Appreciating his Mistress' Shit. When I finished beating and humiliating him, I took a big dump in front of him. The first step is to rub his face in the pile and make him chew and swallow a couple of mouthfuls. I could see him trying not to gag as he did this. Then I made him take a mouthful and told him under no circumstances to swallow it. Of course he can't help swallowing a little, as it mixes with his saliva and runs down his throat, but the important thing is to keep a big wodge of it in his mouth. The third step is the shit wank, rubbing himself off with his hand and cock covered in thick stinking shit. The fourth step, once he has come, is to let him swallow and then make him take another couple of mouthfuls. By now he can't help associating the pleasure and violence of his orgasm with the taste, smell and feel of my shit, and my technique is really working. On the next visit, his seventh, I repeated this, but at the end I made him eat up the whole pile unless he wanted to be thrown out straight away, with no second orgasm. He managed it, even licking the floor clean, although he did gag a few times. On the eighth visit I repeated this, but the night before I had a rich Indian meal, oily and full of onion and garlic, meaning I could give him some truly stinking, runny and vile shit to eat. He looked at me pleadingly and I could see his conflict, if he refused to eat it he would get no pleasure, but could he bear to eat it? He did, though he gagged a few times. And his orgasm was stronger than ever as he rubbed himself with the smelly mess. Still the idea was the same: a good amount in his belly, a big mouthful held there while he wanks, his cock and hand covered in the stuff, and then when he is ready to relax, finish it up so he will be full of me for hours afterwards. He soon learned - as all slaves do - that he should eat as much as I'll let him at the beginning, because afterwards, when he has come and wants to relax, is the hardest time to eat shit.

By now he was really dependent on my shit, and it was time to start teasing him. I'd tell him that I'd had to go before he arrived, and had nothing left inside me. The mixture of relief and apprehension on his face was a joy to see. Then I'd admit that I'd kept it, and produce a dish of cold, clammy shit, no longer stinking but even more revolting (at least to most people) than when fresh. I'd make him use that, watching him gag on his first-ever mouthful of cold shit. I gave him his first experience of taking it directly from me. I have a low table I use for this, and I get on all fours, my little rosebud anus pointing upwards between me spread cheeks. I let him cover it with his slave mouth, then I push out straight into him, making him take it all and swallow it all. He was puzzled afterwards, and I realised he didn't know how he was going to rub himself.

"Just use your spit, like normal people do who aren't filthy depraved shit-slut slaves, stupid".

Of course his spit contained plenty of shit and was a satisfying rich brown colour, with a satisfying smell too, though not as strong as usual. Finally, by maybe the thirteenth visit (honestly I lose count), I was ready for the big test. At the end of our session, when his bruised and battered body was waiting for its usual release, I said,

"I expect you're waiting for me to shit." He nodded. "Well, you're going to have to beg for it and pay the price".

"Please mistress, I never thought I'd ask this, but please let me have your shit, mistress".

"It isn't that easy. You have to pay the price. Twenty strokes, the crop on your thighs. No payment, no shit, no orgasm, you just go straight home like that with your big swollen cock inside your trousers. Now, which is it to be?"

It took a bit longer than this, but he took his twenty strokes, and I gave him the shit he now craved. The next time the price was fifty strokes. It had taken about fourteen visits, so maybe four months since he was seeing me every week or two. Now he was hooked. Of course he could come without it, and no doubt did when I was not with him, but for the most intense pleasure, this was what he needed. Once a slave is trained like this, of course I vary the way I allow him to enjoy my brown treasure. Sometimes I'll make him eat it all at the beginning, so his belly is filled with it throughout a whole session. Or I'll rub his face in it so his nose and eyes and mouth are full of it, but without letting him eat. Best of all is to tease him with it throughout the session, and make him come so many times that he is completely exhausted and can barely even manage an erection - a powerful vibrator in his anus works really well. The stinking pile has been in front of him the whole time, but I haven't even let him touch it. Then when he is completely worn out, and all he wants to do is relax, and he is starting to feel disgusted with himself, only then do I make him eat it all. I love to watch the genuine disgust on his face, the revulsion and compulsion all at the same time. A neat variant is to make him eat it with a spoon, like a delicious dessert, or for me to feed him from a spoon if he is in bondage.

I've trained a good few shit slaves like this. Some get used to it quicker, once they are over their initial reluctance and revulsion. Others have to be coaxed a bit more gently, but I've never had a single failure. I've never trained a woman as a shit slave, the ones I've played with have figured it out naturally by themselves as I did. I don't know if it could be done quite the same way. Of course there's no pleasure quite like rubbing my clit through a thick sludge of smelly shit, poking it into my cunt and feeling it all stinky and slithery. But women don't generally get that throbbing must-come-right-now swollen urge that men seem to, and I'm not sure it would work the same way.