Closet Fetishist's Stories


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Trojan Horse
Author: Closet Fetishist

Written: July 17th, 2012

"Mmmmm, toilet, I'm not feeing too good."

It's the words he fretted to hear but that was an understatement as he found his head lodged deep within the Goddess' naked booty; a two-person horse costume covered them both, hiding the humliation of the young Goddess' toy.


An airy, small fart strolls casually out her booty and fills the nostrils of the toilet in her butt as he violently shakes his head, trying to free himself but the belt wrapped around his head and the Goddess' waist would not budge as he cried, inhaling thick gas staight from the Goddess' tap.

The Goddess reaches down with a medieveal armored glove and squeeze the toilet's balls; he releases an audible yelp that's percieved as a horse noise fromt he crowd as they cheer. The Goddess smiles evilly, looking back, in the dim sunlight that shone through, at her pathetic toy.

With his mouth open, she injects a massive log in his throat; a whopping ten inches long and at least five inches wide, it hands carelessly from his throat which is thankfully buried in Goddess booty and its disgustingness is out of sight. More logs fire out as the Goddess groans in delight, pushing the massive shit from her bowels and feeling it mash forcefully, deeply against the toilet's now screaming face; her grip tightens and he is out of breath to yell as more semi-solid shit sprays in his face, the remainder begining to drip down into the constume.

"I can't stop toilet! You have to start eating it!" The Goddess said seriously, giggling only a little knowning the futility of that command as her waste pours like soft serve into the toilet's face and now onto his shoes, filling the costume up to his knees.

She moans again as diahreea suddenly launched and sprayed like a fire hydrant against the toilet's face, his moaning pained; the Goddess enjoyed it throughly.

Soon the constume was filled near to bursting; it started to protrude in areas around the toilet buried in a lake of liquid and solid waste.

The Goddess moans sexually, forcefully as she fires out a massive twenty pound log that rips the costume with an explosion that sends dumps flying for miles; the toilet, now freed from his binds, falls to the ground unconcious.

The Goddess scans the parade; each and every person in the audience was covered in a thick layer of her shit; devistating impacts, stinging, hot and putrid waste filled their faces as many dropped to the ground, choking and gagging. They tried desperately, clawing at their skin, to try to peel the cemet-like solids from their face.

She looked upon her town of toilets and giggles at their plight; she'd taken another small town but there were millions more to go before she'd rule the world. Her sludge would run through thr streets like some kind of worldwide amusement park for her enjoyment.


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