The Brown Blogger Rides Again

“Oh, Professor Bütternberg you made it at last!”

“Ja, Frau Miller, I am now in the England to visit my most promising online students. My colleague Herr Overwurst is here to observe and attend.”

“Please do come in, Professor. I hope you have found my work satisfactory and that I am on track to pass your wonderful course.”

“You are my most promising student, your love for the scheisse and ze piss is most gratifying. Never have I seen such gluttony, such passion for the poop!”

“Thank you, Professor Bütternberg, I am truly honoured by your kind words, may I ask when I can expect to sit my final exam?”

“Why this very day my lovely, Frau Miller! You have the bowl ready as I instructed in my email? Then I will poop in the bowl and mark your smearing technique and sexual stimulation to the poop. My colleague Herr Overwurst will then poop on you with, how you say, the piss chaser, ja?”

“Oh, Professor that sounds wonderful!”

“Ja, ja, please if you would sit here in your Henderson Easy-Matic 5 level recliner for comfort and quality at affordable prices, and hold the bowl just there, nestling against your delicious dumplings. Gut, gut, now I will pull down my, how you say, bloomers? And put my arsche in your face like this, now please kiss the arsche!”

“Of course, Professor Bütternberg where are my manners.”

“That is gut, your pretty mouth on my arsche feels wonderbar!”

“Your arse tastes divine, I cannot wait to receive your brown bounty!”

“Meine bounty is on its way, liebchen, it will be the taste of paradise!”

“And cut!” Becky yelled, getting off her folding chair, a frown puckering her pretty face. A frown that was beginning to puck me right off.

I shifted my arse from Heidi’s face and pulled my knickers back up. I badly needed to poop which wasn’t helping my mood. Becky was deep in discussion with our two cameramen, Keith, and a young guy Tom who worked on films for a living and was letting us use some top of the range gear.

Mindful of my role as executive producer, screenwriter, and co-star, time for me to rally the troops. “Great scene Heidi, it’s going really well. Becky loved your solo scene and the scene with your ‘hubby’.”

Heidi looked pleased. We had flown her in from Germany to play our English housewife, while I played the German Professor Bütternberg. She was a gorgeous blonde woman in her early thirties and big in the scat world so well worth the investment. Heidi also spoke perfect, accentless English courtesy of her English mother.

Initially, Heidi hadn’t been impressed with my somewhat stereotypical portrayal of a German professor or my screenplay, but she was a pro, got stuck in, and winced every time I stomped around as Professor Bütternberg. To be honest, she had winced pretty much every time she saw me, but we gradually warmed to each other.

“Okay, that was great,” announced Becky, “we got wide and close shots. Just need another close up of Judy’s arse perched over the bowl, then we are ready for you to shit, Judes.”

“About time,” I grumbled, holding my tummy.

Heidi grinned and patted my bloated belly. “I hope you’re packing a lot of shit in there for me.”

“Count on it. You’ll be in the shit literally and figuratively,” I replied.

I left Heidi laughing as Becky put her arm around me and drew me to one side. I braced myself. I was in for one of Becky’s ‘concerned’ talks.

“The plug for Henderson’s Chairs kind of disrupts the flow,” she said in that patient, soothing voice that was like sandpaper on my ego.

”The guy loves his scat, donated the chair and bunged us £750 for a shout out. What’s not to like?”

“I’m just concerned about artistic integrity.”

I love Becky to bits, absolute best bestie and all that, but by god, she could be a pompous twat.

“And the screenplay is still a bit, well you know,” she continued.

I bridled at this. The deal was she directed, and I wrote the screenplay. I injected cold disdain into my voice. “I’m studying English Lit. The theme is Chaucerian, bawdy tales and base humour, Bütternberg Tales, Canterbury Tales. Heidi is Mrs Miller, so the ‘Miller’s Tale’.”

“Yes, I know, Judy and no offence but the way you keep pushing your ‘English Lit’ in our faces, well you come across as a bit of a pompous twat at times.”

I refrained from murdering Becky. My restraint was positively heroic.

”Yeah,” interjected Steve. “The 1970s called and wants its humour back.”

I glared at ‘Herr Overwurst’ who was grinning at me and twirling his fake moustache. “It’s more 1370s,” I replied with crushing scorn. If it wasn’t for the fact Steve was paying to appear in the movie, I would have fired him on the spot.

You remember Steve? Cocky git, largely responsible for getting me in this mess? Wait, you didn’t know he was back on the scene? Okay, rewind, or as we call it in showbiz, a flashback.

My ‘Scat Sandie’ persona was going great. I shot a lot of solo stuff, along with scenes with Becky and our monthly Sunday Show ‘Around the Cistern’ with poop, pee, and a lot of viewer content, mainly our ‘get your girl to poop’ segments, was astonishingly popular.

I was still doing my ‘Jugs Judy’ gig and getting my kit off for generous gentlemen. Danielle, who ran the studio, mentioned that Barry was desperate to see me after I had cut him off after the Steve episode. This time I didn’t say no right away and Danielle pounced.

“No point in punishing Barry, and your career in poop is going well, babe.”

“Steve will turn up.” He had stopped messaging apologies to me, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist using Barry to worm his way back in.

“Probably. But can you honestly say you are still mad over it? It did work out for you.”

No, I couldn’t honestly say I was still mad, or even that bothered, but there was no way I was admitting it. A girl should stick to her guns.

“Yes, I can honestly say I am still mad with the creep,” I told Danielle.

“Hmmm, I’ll book Barry for Friday afternoon.”

“I just said I’m still mad!” I protested.

“No you’re not, you’re just being a stubborn twat, and I have a business to run, so next Friday get your tits out and be nice to Barry. Got it?”

“Well, if you insist, but I’m doing it under protest.”

“Honey, you can organise a demo outside voicing your outrage for all I care. Friday. 2:00pm. Be there.”

I shrugged, secretly I was pleased, and my honour was satisfied.

The appointed day and time rolled around, Barry is delighted and snapping away as I posed in the nuddie giving it the full pout.

“That’s great, Judy!” Barry enthused. “Thanks for seeing me again, I was beside myself thinking I upset you.”

A stab of guilt pricked me, but my heart hardened as Steve quietly slipped into the room. I went for icy glare. Unfortunately, this didn’t mix well with a sexy pout.

“Are you okay, Judy, you look unwell,” said Barry with genuine concern.

“Fine, Barry, can we take a five minute break?”

“Sure, whatever you want, Judy. I’ll download the pics, and maybe we do a couple of 5-minute video clips with you in different outfits?”

I nodded and gave him a big friendly smile. All the girls liked Barry, respectful, considerate and generous. Grabbing my dressing gown, I decided to blame Steve for all of Barry’s misfortune.

“You’ve slinked back in I see,” I said with soul destroying disdain.

“Yes, and before you start may I please say something?”

“I think I’ve heard enough of your apologies.” I sniffed.

“It’s not an apology, it’s more the truth about what happened.”

Despite myself, I relent a little.

Steve took a deep breath. “Okay, the thing is when it happened I was turned on by it all, and that embarrassed me.”

“You were embarrassed? Silly me, there I was thinking I’m the one that should have been embarrassed!”

“I appreciate that, but my reaction did embarrass me, you see when you were in the shower I got off on your mess.”

“You wanked off in my mess? I’m sitting in the shower, and all you can think to do is jack off in my shit?” You can’t see this, but my lip was curling magnificently.

“Yes. Then I tried to joke about it to cover my embarrassment, which of course made it worse, and yes, I failed to take into account your feelings. I was too wrapped up in my shame, embarrassment and stupidity.“

“This isn’t helping you.”

“I’m not here to help me. I’m here to tell you the truth.”

“Fine. A bit late.”

Steve would have said more, but Barry walked back in, and we got back to work while I brooded on Steve’s confession. I grudgingly appreciated his honesty, and I also picked up on his admission he had been turned on by what had happened.

At the end of the photo shoot, I dragged Steve to one side while Barry downloaded the pics and clips.

“First,” I said, “I appreciate the honesty, you’re a first-class creep so that couldn’t have been easy.”

“As ever, your high opinion of me gives me a warm glow,” he chuckled.

“Shut up. Thing is, as you may or may not know, I have been doing some poop related stuff recently, and it’s kind of worked out for me.”

“Yes, I know. Danielle told me. Kind of hot.”

“Okay, now that we are clear, I’m happy to put the past behind me.”

“Great. That’s all I wanted. Come clean and hopefully a fresh start going forward.”

“Fine, we’ll leave it there then.” I half expected the smooth-talking bastard to make a move, yet he didn’t.

So I did. Yeah, I know, us girls are suckers.

We made a date for the following Friday, he suggested a meal out I suggested eating in. Chinese, watch a movie. He said fine.

Come Friday night, I’m sitting on the couch, and he’s a respectful distance across from me. The take-out was great, the movie not so great. We are making nice with each other, but with an underlying tension filling the room.

He collects the plates and takes them through to the kitchen. I follow, leaning against the countertop, half hoping he makes a grab for me. I’d had too much girl sex lately, too much me being the ‘dom’ half. I needed something different, harder, meaner.

“You’re a pussy,” I suddenly blurt out.

“What?” He looked puzzled.

“You heard, you’re a fucking pussy!” I fold my arms and give him a haughty look.

“You reckon, huh?” Standing before me, he’s twigged my game.

“Yeah, poncing around like a tart, ‘sorry, Judy, forgive me, Judy‘, whine, whine, fucking whine!” God, I am so turned on right now!

He moves and pins me against the counter. I struggle to push him away. “Get off me, you bastard!”

“Yeah, I am,” he snarls, grabbing me by the throat and kissing me, his tongue aggressive and demanding.

“Mmmlphff!” I spluttered, which roughly translated meant. ‘Yes! Take me like the uncaring brute you are!’

Steve marched me through to the bedroom and hurled me onto the bed. I noted the plastic under the sheets, presumptuous git. Before I can recover, he is on top of me, undoing his jeans, his mouth seeking mine. “Please, stop!” I gasp while kissing him passionately. It’s possible I was giving out mixed messages.

Grabbing me by the hair, he pushes his cock into my mouth. I almost faint with pleasure at his taste, the feel of his hardness inside me. I gurgle happily as he throats me, telling me that he was going to fuck me, piss in my face than shit in my mouth, that I was a dirty shit whore.

My top is torn off, his cock waving in my face, tall and erect like a Buck House guardsman. He mashes my breasts, while I wriggle out of my knickers, anxious for him to fill me, fuck me. A slap to the face, hard, but not too hard, rocks me a little, he pushes my legs open, my skirt bunched around my hips. I’m shaking as he prods against my pussy, in my head I’m screaming for him to fuck me and then with one swift plunge he penetrates me and my fucking god it was glorious!

I can feel my eyes fluttering, vision burring, everything is hard, his cock, his body, his limbs, his lips, everything is a contrast to my squidgy, girly softness and I couldn’t get enough of it as we humped like two rutting dogs in the street. Carnal wanton lust fusing us, the beast with two backs.

It was quick, frantic and we collapsed in a heap of sweaty sin, his semen pumping into me, the initial edge gone, but our mutual lust still simmering nicely.

“Did I say you could fuck me?” I hiss, biting his ear.

“Who fucking cares.” biting my neck.

“Bastard!”

“Whore!”

He grabs my throat again, Squeezing a little. “You had better be nice to me,” he growled.

“Or else what, you fucking pig!”

“I said be nice,” his grin was wolf like and my resistance crumbled, my submissive side, starved of late, flaring up to consume me.

“I’m sorry, sir!” I gasp, even saying the words excite me.

“That’s better, a whore should mind her manners,” he slapped me with just the right amount of force, allowing me to cringe, my begging spilling out from me without thinking.

“Yes, sir, I’ll do whatever you want!” I kissed him, “just tell me what you want and I’ll do it, no matter what it is.” I trill, I mean, signposting much?

“Come with me,” he orders, climbing off the bed.

I scramble to follow, crawling behind him.

“Good bitch. Lean back against the toilet.”

“Yes, sir!” I sit against the cold porcelain, my head back and mouth open.

Almost immediately his piss stung my eyes then cascaded into my mouth, blinking and coughing I swallow his warm, briny liquid, warm enough to feel it flowing down to my stomach.

“Toilet Judy! Judy the loo lady! Judy the bog bitch!” His taunts stimulating my submissiveness.

“Yes, sir, I’m a dirty bitch,” I splutter as his piss arcs down over my breasts and then onto my pussy, splashing over my fingers as I rubbed myself frantically.

“Not dirty enough,” his eyes were glittering and I all but swooned knowing his intent.

Looming over me, I got a faceful of arse. He had a nice arse, his balls swinging in my face. I ran my tongue up them to his arsehole and rimmed his puckered poop chute.

I could feel his hole start to flex as I tongued him, encouraging him to poo, my lips formed a seal, and I began to suck, his hole getting wider. Pulling away, I watched his pleasure portal peeling open, the hint of his brown torpedo making me gasp.

“Oh, my!” I murmured as this brown, bald monster peered over the rim and began heaving itself toward me. I put my lips to it, kissing it in awed reverence. It began to gather pace, waving in my face, again I licked it, feeling the texture and tiny fissures, it had a strong taste, a male taste, unlike Becky’s or my own.

Then with a whoosh and a release of gasses, it shot into my face and lodged in my mouth, blinking I saw it stretching out, like a dark brown monolith, strong and straight.

Steve was staring down at me, wide-eyed.