I woke up with my pussyclit hard as a rock, excited to figure out which part of Master Garrett’s body I would have to lick in order to wake him up.

After freshening up, I went into his bedroom to discover him lying on his left side, one leg up, with his asscrack open. I crawled towards his bed, touched one of his beefy buttcheeks with my tongue, and began to dig it through the hairs until it was touching his asshole.

While I flicked my tongue and he began to wake up, I detected a solid matter with a muddy texture and an earthy, nutty flavor between the wrinkles of his shithole that began to dissolve in my saliva.

He looked at me over his shoulder and burst out laughing.

“Sue me if I forgot to wipe after the dump I took on the road yesterday, faggot,” he said, confirming that I was in fact tasting his unwiped crap.

Had this happened days earlier, I would’ve had the urge to vomit, but I was only enthusiastic and eager to go outside of my comfort zone to amuse my master.

I began to drill his butthole with the tip of my tongue, as if chocolate was hiding inside.

“You’re still going after that?”, he said in disbelief, reaching for his phone. “Then follow me, asswipe. There’s more where that came from.”

Garrett got up and began to walk to the bathroom, with me walking on all fours behind him, and my face sandwiched between his asscheeks, and my tongue working on his hole.

“Take my dick between your lips, fuckface” Garrett said, taking the seat.

I obeyed, “Sir, yes, Sir,” swallowing his semi-hard cock into my mouth.

While he strained, his rank morning piss naturally started to flow through my mouth, to which I responded by swallowing with a growing pace.

By the time he began to drop his first log, his bladder was fully empty. Having not been ordered to get my mouth off his cock, I kept it there and tongued it clean, forced to smell the fumes of his dump coming from underneath.

Three massive, dry logs later, Garrett stood up with no warning, bumping my head backwards with his crotch, and letting his cock slip out from between my lips.

“I want you to literally brown-nose me. Spread my cheeks and wipe my shithole with your nose until it’s brown,” he ordered, turning around.

“Sir, yes, Sir.”

Obediently, I pried his thick buttcheeks aside with my delicate fingers, pushed my large nose into his hairy taint, and swiped my nose up his asscrack, making sure to press the tip into his hole and collect his remaining shit.

Garrett turned to me, let out a loud, taunting cackle while looking down at me, pointed the camera of his phone at my face, and took a photo.

“You’re going to keep my shit on your nose for at least six hours before washing it off. Got it, shithead?”

“Sir, yes, Sir”

I could see through the huge spot on my nose that doing that day’s chores was gonna be tricky, as it really blurred my vision.

“Flush,” he ordered, exiting the bathroom.

I looked into the toilet bowl to discover that his shit had iceberged, and rushed to push the flush button.

When Garrett left for work, I checked my phone to discover a photo of me, kneeling in a maid’s uniform, with a massive, brown shit stain on my nose, along with a text message, “Your new wallpaper.”

Come 04:30 p.m., I received a voice message from Garrett, “I can’t wait to get home and find you in that thing.”

I didn’t know what he was referring to until minutes later, when a big, colorful box was delivered to his home address.

It was a new level of humiliation for me answering the door in a maid’s outfit, but thankfully, I had washed the shit stain off my face, and the delivery man was professional enough not to have judgment.

I soon learned that the box included a massive inflatable rimming couch that the slave would embed themself into with their face sticking out of the seat through a large hole.

Since he was coming home any minute, I had better inflate the new couch and discover a way to lay inside of it. But first, I had to prepare Garrett’s cold beer and set his dinner on the table nearby.

When he arrived, I had already found a way to wrestle myself into the couch so that my nose was at the center of the seat’s hole. He took a good look at me, chuckled, and proceeded to undress.

Starting at around 5:15 p.m., I spent what had to be six hours with my face nestled into Garrett’s crack. The only thing I could see, hear, taste, smell, or touch was his butt.

He enjoyed making me alternate between massaging his asshole with my nose and with my tongue. I wondered that licking it would wash away the smell, but it rather ripened it.

The only breaks I had were when he got up to refill his glass of beer, and even then, any attempts I made at breathing fresh air were solid by his lingering butt funk on my face.

He blasted a total of seven farts, using different methods to make me suck them into my nostrils and down my throat. Two times, he emptied his bladder down my throat because he was too relaxed to use the bathroom.

At some point, I could feel his taint tensing up against my face, and learned that he was masturbating, so I improvised and started tonguing his butthole. His reward was to dump his ball juice right into my nostrils and leaving me to choke on it for several minutes.

Thank you for reading chapter four. Any feedback will be appreciated