The Brown Blogger Saves The Day Ep. 04
Ağu 4, 2022 // By:analsex // No Comment
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Someone was shouting! I jerked awake and instantly regretted the sudden movement. Last night there had been alcohol and dope and probably wildly inappropriate sex.
No. Becky had been there. I smiled when I thought of Becky, then realised Becky was the source of the shouting.
“Really, Judy Bellingham? Have you no decency? I just bought this duvet set and look!”
I looked. Not that I had to look. In my drunk, doped state, I seemed to have pooed the bed. Visual confirmation was not necessary.
“Morning, babe,” I said brightly. I turned up the dazzle-o-meter on the smile. Hopefully, love would win out.
“Don’t you fucking ‘morning babe’ me!”
Okay, love had temporarily left the scene of the dirty deed. Plan B, and, yes, I know it’s ridiculous, but my brain wasn’t fully functional which was why I then said: “What’s up?”
“What’s up?” Becky’s mouth continued up and down in silent mode.
I settled down as Becky went nuclear and listed my many, oh, so many shortcomings and misdeeds. It was a long list. I wished I had a cup of tea.
Now, you may be wondering how a girl like Becky, who was into scat, indeed made a living out of scat porn, could be so upset. Well, one, and guys make a note here, this is real life, not a porno, and a girl doesn’t like waking up, turning over and finding herself in a pile of poo. Becky likes things prepared, she likes planning. Becky is not what you call a spontaneous girl.
And two, well, there isn’t a two, the first reason was good enough, so I put on my attentive face, imagined sipping a nice morning cuppa, and waited for the storm to die down.
“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” demanded Becky.
This was a tricky one. I really wanted to ask for a cup of tea, also what could I say for myself? I’m a hopeless slob? I should really get cleaned up?
“I’m sorry, Becks,” I may have fluttered my eyelashes in a winsome fashion. It was difficult to say. My face was still not obeying my brain. It had been strong dope.
“Hmmm, you are terrible you know.”
Ha! Becky was relenting. I fluttered my eyelashes again. I think.
“Are you having a spasm?” Concerned, Becky reached for my hand.
Okay, the eyelash thing had worked, just not as intended. “I’m okay, but I could murder a cup of tea.”
Becky was the tea maker. “I’ll fetch you one, I told you to go easy last night but you never listen and this,” she waved her hands at the odorous evidence, “is the result!”
I looked downcast as she exited midst diatribe. Becky would pick it up again when she returned with my tea.
A soft knock prevented me from dwelling on the Becky problem. It was Gwen. She had stayed over after the get together last night. She also had a crush on me, which I shamelessly exploited.
“I heard you were in trouble. I can smell it too,” she smiled.
“When am I not in trouble!”
“A bit unfair though. You did say you were going to do this and Becky just laughed and said go for it.”
Oh, she did, did she? That sounded like Becky. Gwen sat in the bed next to me, her eyes fixed on my boobs. Her payment for snitching was to cop a look. Deliberately I plopped my forefinger in a smear of poop and rubbed it on my nipple. “You like that, huh?” I may have even done the lip-licking thing with my furred tongue.
“Yes, I think you’re wonderful,” breathed Gwen.
“You making breakfast?”
“Sure, what would you like?”
“Full English, busy day ahead.”
Gwen gave a squeal of excitement. “I’ll get your breakfast ready. I’m so looking forward to today. Does Becky have a clue?”
“None,” I replied smugly, giving my nipple another tweak. I was starting to make myself horny.
“I want you so much!” breathed Gwen plaintively.
Tell me something I didn’t know. “Maybe today will be your lucky day.” I was shameless, but a full English breakfast was riding on this.
“Really? I’ll do anything, you know that.”
As long as it included breakfast, that was fine with me. Gwen jumped as she heard Becky returning. Before I could stop her, Gwen lunged forward and kissed me. “I fancy you so bad,” she whispered, then made for the door.
“One cup of tea for her majesty,” said Becky plonking the mug of tea down.
“Where you leading Gwen on again? You know she has the hots for you, Ken was grumbling about it the other day.” Ken was Gwen’s husband and the tech and camera guy of our little scat porn empire.
“Just being friendly.” Boy, the tea tasted good!
“Well, don’t go trampling over her feelings, she’s a good woman.”
“I wouldn’t dream of treating her badly, unlike some women who mistreat their partners by making unjust accusations.” I gave Becky a pointed look.
“Really? I don’t know what you mean.”
“Then allow me to give you an example. Say one partner announces she would do something, and her other half laughs and tells her to go for it, but afterwards accuses her partner of having no decency or consideration.”
“That sounds terribly unfair. Now finish your tea and then you can clean çankaya escort yourself up and the bed.”
“My example doesn’t put you in mind of anyone?” I said with wide-eyed innocence. Did I say this tea was good? You can’t beat a good cup of tea first thing in the morning.
“No,” sniffed Becky, but she was looking shifty. Becky was the world’s worst liar.
“Are you sure Becky Sansome?” I thundered. Well, not so much thundered, more of a firm squeak.
Becky collapsed into a quivering heap. “Yes, I may have encouraged you, it sounded fun at the time, but I forgot this was a new duvet set and I forgot I encouraged you and then I got mad and you were laying there all snoring and smug and it’s our anniversary tomorrow and you haven’t mentioned it once!”
There was a brief silence.
“And yes it’s only a year, and I know it means more to me than you, which is why I get so mad at times!” Becky folded her arms and glared as if defying me to counter her irrefutable logic.
“It’s our anniversary tomorrow?” Only someone who had planned the most incredible anniversary treat ever could say this with equanimity.
On the other hand, I didn’t want Becky having a stroke or murdering me, so I hastened to speak, given the alarming range of emotions running across Becky’s face, one of which looked a lot like murderous intent.
“Firstly, Becky Sansome, I hadn’t forgotten. I have been planning and plotting for weeks, if not months. This is why our weekend is clear and later today we, meaning you, me and Gwen, are off on a magical mystery tour. Isn’t that right, Gwen?” I knew she would be eavesdropping.
“Yes,” Gwen yelled back.
“Well?” I said smugly.
The silence stretched, and I became slightly concerned I hadn’t headed off the stroke option in time. Then, I was smothered in warm kisses and wet tears as Becky jumped on me.
“I knew you hadn’t forgotten, Judes!”
Really? I could have sworn that was pretty much the gist of the conversation a minute ago.
“You are the greatest girlfriend in the world and I love and adore you!”
Now there was tongue, and I relaxed into the pillow to enjoy the attention. Finally, Becky resurfaced for air and looked down on me fondly. There was only one thing I could say to seal my crushing victory.
“Of course, I am sorry about the mess and the new duvet set. It is lovely by the way.”
Becky went bright red, consumed with shame and guilt. “No, that was on me. I stupidly put this silly duvet set before the thing that matters most. You and my love for you. Can you ever forgive me?”
I affected a sad look. “A sponge bath in bed would be nice.”
“A bed bath. Bowl of warm sudsy water and my loving girlfriend cleaning me up. Oh, and another cup of tea, followed by breakfast.” The smell of sausages had begun drifting up to the bedroom.
“A bed bath.” I could see Becky working the angles, but there was no escape. “Well, I guess if we are celebrating our anniversary weekend I should make it up to you.”
Aha! Victory! I stopped my manic laugh just in time.
Gwen brought up another mug of tea while Becky came in carrying a bowl of water and a sponge.
“Would you like me to help?” asked Gwen hopefully.
This was crazy talk. The woman had a breakfast to cook.
Becky dismissed Gwen with a firm no, then pulled off the duvet to reveal yours truly laying in a pile of my own poo. I’ve looked better.
Yet, to a girl who likes her scat, I could see Becky warming to the idea of having some fun cleaning me up. Perched on the edge of the bed, she wiped my breasts lovingly, the warm suds feeling nice on my nips.
Becky dabbed an elegantly manicured nail into a pile of poo that had been squidged by my hip. “Still warm, done recently although your body heat may have kept it in good condition.” Honestly, it was like watching an expert tracker examining cougar scat and telling the posse the bad guys went that way an hour ago.
Nibbling her finger, Becky smiled and scooped up some more. “Want some?”
The taste of my own poo was familiar to me these days, and I took her proffered finger into my mouth, our eyes locked on each other.
The sponge worked slowly over my front, then she gently teased between my legs. “Oh, dear, there is quite a mess down there,” she observed seductively.
“Are you sure? Perhaps you need a closer look.”
I eased my legs open, releasing more rich odour. “Would I lead you astray?” I gently pushed her head down to my pussy.
“I hope so.” Becky surrendered by settling between my thighs, her chin resting in my poop, and softly kissing my pussy. “It smells lovely down here.”
To Becky, the aroma of pee, pussy and poo was the nectar of the Gods. “Babe!” I breathed. Her tongue was a gossamer whisper on my clit, the woman was born to tease.
“What’s up my love?” she purred sweetly.
“Go down on me!” I said urgently.
“What about your sponge bath?” Becky used her finger to scoop up poo and pushed it into my pussy, cebeci escort then used her tongue to lick it out. It was beyond endurance. I rubbed shit onto my snatch and then held her head against me as she snuffled away.
“Fuck, babe!” I squeezed my thighs together, ignoring her muffled groans as she tunnelled away with her tongue until I squirted in her face.
I rolled back, the after-effects of my shuddering orgasm churning through me.
“Fuck, babe!” I said again. “That was—” the words I groped for were inadequate.
Becky’s poopy pretty face popped up with a broad smile. “Fantastic? The best cum you’ve ever had?”
“All of that, and more!”
She clambered up to kiss me, dirty brown mucus trailing from our lips.
“Love you,” she whispered.
“Love you too,” I whispered back.
After breakfast, we piled luggage into Becky’s car. Gwen and I had already packed, and Becky was in a feverish state of excitement over what lay ahead.
“You should have given me more notice! What do I pack? Posh dresses? Will there be expensive restaurants, hotels?” Becky was running around, packing, unpacking, then packing again.
I reluctantly put down the new phone Becky had bought me. “And give the surprise away? Why not play safe, a posh dress, casual wear, sexy underwear, maybe some special panties that have been unwashed for days and kept vacuum sealed?”
“So, you mean everything!” Becky had reached the hyperventilating stage.
Gently, I sat Becky down. “No, just a representation. Now take some deep breaths and we’ll go through what you should bring.”
Finally, Becky was ready, and we were on the road. I pulled out the sandwiches and snacks while Gwen broke out the fizzy drinks.
“We’ve barely gone a mile, Judes. How long is the journey?”
“Not long, Becks. About eighty miles,” I replied through a mouthful of tuna and cucumber baguette.
Holding in her withering comments, Becky smiled sweetly. “And can I ask what is our destination?”
“Yes,” I peered at the map on my new smartphone. “The village of Ecclesthump in Shropshire.”
“Ecclesthump? You’re making that up!”
“Nope.” I wiped a glob of tuna off the screen and showed it to Becky when we stopped at a traffic light.
“Hmm, so that’s our destination,” said Becky doubtfully.
“Well, it’s not our final destination,” I replied mysteriously.
Becky gave a little shiver of excitement. “You know one day I will murder you, right?”
“Looking forward to it, my love. Counting the days.”
The journey was fun with Becky trying to organise games and Gwen and I ignoring her efforts, opting instead for the radio and music. Traffic was light, and we made it to Ecclesthump just after 1 pm.
Despite the name, it was a picturesque village, and we stopped for a drink and a bite at the local pub, The Loving Shepard. The sign hanging by the roadside portrayed a whiskery old git staring longingly at his nervous flock. Personally, I wasn’t convinced this was sending out the right message, but country folk live by different rules, and who are we to say otherwise?
“We have time to stop?” asked Becky anxiously.
“Yes, we are expected at two and we don’t have far to go, so enjoy a drink and your hotpot and relax.”
“Okay, I need to pee.”
“What do you mean, no peeing!”
“I need to pee as well, Judy,” interrupted Gwen anxiously.
“Well hold it for a little while longer. And just have the hotpot,” I added to Becky.
“Okay, no worries.” Becky had a bladder like a camel. Unfortunately, Gwen didn’t.
We were back in the car, barely ten minutes away and Gwen was jumping up and down in the back.
“I can’t hold it like you youngsters!”
“Fuck’s sake, pull over, Becky.”
Gwen hopped out, popped down her knickers and peed at the side of the car. Becky and I watched as a look of bliss came over Gwen’s face.
“Her bush is really thick,” I said.
“Yes, I wish she wouldn’t make that pissing sound. Makes me want to go.”
“Yeah, me too. Look a puddle has formed around her shoe.”
“We should have got a phone camera on this. Great pissing content. So, how far to go?”
“Not far, ten minutes. Fuck, I think she’s pooing now! Gwen, no shitting, remember?”
“Okay, Judy, it’s only a little one.” Gwen replied cheerfully.
“Why can’t she poo?” asked Becky suspiciously.
“It’s bad luck.”
“To poo by the roadside, it’s bad luck.”
Becky shook her head and set the car in motion as Gwen jumped back in. “Judy Bellingham, you are so full of shit.”
Eight minutes later, I tell Becky to turn left. She slowed the car and read the sign. “Ecclesthump Home Farm.”
“Down here, then to your right.” I was feeling excited. It had taken three months of planning and several flying visits, but it was all ready for today.
We piled out of the car. I took Becky’s arm and led her to a refurbished barn. The air con was humming away as we entered into a small seating area that faced çubuk escort a large pen with a trough to one side and a covered sty on the far side.
Becky looked bewildered. “What?”
“Fully temperature controlled, but you can open the far door if you want the outside inside. Cushioned floor in the pen with undefloor heating and fully waterproof. See the nozzles on this side? Turn then on and everything gets washed down the two big drains, floor is on a slight camber.”
We walked around to the sty. The top had four toilet seats in it. “In the sty there is even a small entertainment system, all behind a Perspex screen and voice activated.”
“I still don’t—” then Becky stopped. I could see she was catching on.
“Remember when you talked about having your own pig pen? Where people can come and do their business and you get to live as a shit pig for a day? Well here it is. We can even film or have paying audiences. Pleasure and business.”
Becky was silent for a few moments.
“Well, what do you think? I made your fantasy come true.” I was starting to sweat a little at Becky’s non-reaction.
“My own pig pen?” she said, her voice small and quiet.
“Yep, some of our friends will be here tomorrow. Anne and Mark, even Danielle is popping down.”
“And Ken,” added Gwen.
“You did all this? For me? You actually listened to me?”
This always miffed me. The assumption I never listen. “Well, yeah, babe. Ken helped as well. Hey, it’s okay.” I took Becky in my arms as she started bawling, and it was proper full-on sobbing. Snotty tears, the works.
“Oh, you’ve started me off, now,” sniffed Gwen, and she put her arms around us both and fondled my bum.
“I don’t know what to say, Judy. I know I’m always bothering you or moaning about you and I can’t help it and I’m sorry because you are the most loveliest and thoughtful girl in the whole wide world and I know you will leave me because I’m a silly cow and I don’t deserve you—”
I let Becky sob herself out, even shed a tear myself. It had been hard work but sometimes the reward from the people you love made it all worthwhile.
Farmer Ted McTeague was an amiable, big man in his fifties with a shock of sandy hair and an easy smile. His daughter Anna had moved back in with her father after her mother had left him.
“Run off with a fast talking City gent, so she has,” explained Ted in his easy drawl.
“He also didn’t want to poop on her all the time, Father,” Anna observed tartly. She was a handsome woman, with a big build and dark hair in a long pigtail. Her own marriage had floundered the previous year.
“Nothing wrong with nature’s bounty, my dear. Shitting and rutting be two of our most basic needs.”
“Yes, but not necessarily at the same time, Father. More cake?” Anna was cutting a huge homemade raspberry sponge into big slices. It was gorgeous, and we all dived in.
“So, this venture officially starts today, then?” Anna looked at me. We had met twice previously and got on famously. She was a bit shy of Becky, though.
“Yet, this is Becky’s idea, me and Ken just made it happen and thanks to you and your father’s generosity here we are.”
“I really appreciate all you have done,” said Becky earnestly.
“Our pleasure Miss Sansome,” beamed Ted while Anna looked a bit awed.
The thing about Becky is that she truly is a stunning woman. Tall, slim, with legs that should be declared a national treasure and here on the farm, she seemed like an alien creature. On the other hand, Gwen and I looked like we belonged on a farm.
Becky is totally unaware of her effect on others, in fact, she is the loveliest person you could ever hope to meet. She waved her cake around as she kept thanking our hosts, making them even more uncomfortable.
Finally, Becky caught my eye and whispered: “I have to go pee, how we playing this?”
I stood, and everyone looked expectantly. “This has been a few months in coming, but finally we are here, and as it is Becky’s pigpen, I think our lovely piggie should be settled into her new home where she can enjoy the facilities.”
Becky went bright pink with excitement.
“I think that be a grand idea,” beamed Farmer Ted, slapping his broad thighs.
“Will everyone be watching?” asked Becky hopefully.
“Of course. You are a pig. A pig has no privacy and lives in filth. A pig is naked. Come with me pretty piggie.”
Becky swallowed hard, muttered a heartfelt, “Crumbs!” and dutifully followed me out of the farmhouse to her purpose-built pen. The rest followed, a tense excitement in the air.
Quickly, Becky undressed, and I led her into the pen. Ted’s eyes were on stalks, and even Anna seemed stunned. I felt like I was parading a prize sow. I went with it.
“A fine human-pig as you can see ladies and gentlemen. Fine haunches and rump!” I swatted Becky on the arse. “Would you both like to inspect the pig’s teeth?” Okay, I was getting my horses and pigs mixed up, but Ted was at the fence in a heartbeat.
I walked Becky over and made her open her mouth. He stuck his finger in and then pronounced. “She be a fine looking sow.”
“That she is, and a pig should be on all fours.” I was curious to see how Becky would react to Ted sticking his finger in her mouth, but I relaxed. Becky’s eyes were glazed. She was in her zone.
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