Disclaimer: this is a story of people seeking pleasure in unnatural and filthy acts. It is meant to be uncomfortable as it is raunchy, as such quests most often are. It mentions unwashed bodies, the many substances coming out of them, desires to pain and shame, decayed states, etc.

It is a work of fiction inspired by conversations I had with real people about their actual experiences and wishes. I have selected as the basis of my story a least offensive set of them. Fiction be tamer than reality.

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Kindly edited by neuroparenthetical.

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Restless in Manila

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Chapter 2

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As the bus passes Angeles’ city limits, Tom feels elated. It’s all over and he’ll not come back again. Ever. He’s happy to have done it. It was not all the bad, most certainly an experience. And he had to know, he needed do it, he could not contain the urge. He has learned none of it is for him.

The next few days he tries to think as little as feasible about what transpired. He’s no longer that happy to have gone through with it. He’s disgusted with himself when his mind wanders back to the day. He’s repulsed by the memory of Bianca’s sickening body odors. Why did he have to engage in such revolting acts with Philippines’ lowest?

His disgust is mixed with disappointment and anger. He had been promised butt fucking, of which he’d received none. Bar that brutal, inept fingering. He had looked up for abundant streams of clear piss, and instead he’d gotten drops of vile, acrid, dark yellow.

Most damningly of all, he had engaged with a prostitute. He had been cheated of the one thing he cared about — being used, abused for someone else’s pleasure. Had he gotten that, the stomach-churning odors, the nauseating body tongue wash, the atrociously filthy underwear in his mouth would have mattered not. He would have been used as he needed to be. What he got instead was to pay money to a whore that had no inkling of what submission is. Surely, she had been as sickened as he was by the entire act and would have gladly done anything instead, or nothing at all.

None of his resentment is strong and what there is fades fast. It isn’t long before he reverts to warmer feelings. Maybe… it really was like he wondered it’d be while planning it. Sure, the ladyboy is a hooker, but she wants that, too. She had applied herself too vigorously to fucking his mouth not to. She may not have been into most of the rest, almost certain she hadn’t cared for pissing his face, but overall she had enjoyed the experience.

And besides, and almost delicious, paying for the whole she-bang had been humiliating. The memory of it both stings and comforts. Pity Bianca did not know the the shame of that last indignity and nobody else have seen it.

Then back to despondency: why hasn’t she got in touch yet? She said she wanted him back. Seemingly not that much.

By this point his frequent as feasible Masturbation has moved from imagining glistening pink cunts to recalling his mouth cock and piss abuse, the ladyboy’s from Angeles hairy butthole and her large, ungraceful feet.

At last, he texts her.

“Why did you not text me until now?” she wants to know.

Why haven’t you? he retorts mentally, but he responds “I’m sorry, I really am. I should have. Please forgive me.”

“You don’t like me.”

“I do, really do. You’re” Tom fails to come up with anything positive. “You were good to me. I’m grateful.” He isn’t.

“When you coming back?”

He can not, not like that, not at short notice. He needs a full day for it, the trip there is city rides included, 3 to 5 hours one way. He’ll have to ask for another leave and whether he gets it soon is out of his control.

“I’ll tell you as soon as I know.” he promises.

“He misses you.”

“I miss him, too.” replies Tom, revolted and aroused by the pronoun. “I want to kiss him very much. Suck him so hard.”

“Yeah, I know, baby.”

“I want him to cum in my mouth.”

“You can, yes.”

“I want him to fill my mouth with its sweet pee.”

“Come to Angeles, and you can.”

Tom gets his next leave in a few days time and makes arrangements with Bianca for their second meeting. He even manages to discover a better, faster ride to Angeles.

Until the day arrives, Tom stays torn between a burning, uncontainable desire to meet Bianca and dread at what he can expect and will surely get, and disgust at himself. Masturbation usually marks the transition between waiting anxiety and doubt and at times conviction that he should not go.

The message exchanges go largely as they were. Tom is achingly excited to hear and say how he’s gonna suck dick, drink piss, get his balls crushed, lick her feet, tongue wash her body and the like. He does not wish to mention butt fucking much, he does not wish to set up himself for more crushing disappointment. In fact, he does not insistently mention anything he did not get the first time around, no matter how much he wishes for it.

He keeps lying or misspeaking himself about how he experienced their one date. He says he loved having Bianca’s dirty underwear in his mouth, he does not say the odiously rank and heavily stained cloth made him sick. He wants more of the same, he loves her stink, the stronger and fouler the better. No, he’s not scared of having to do it again.

He tells her he only wants to please her, do what she wants him to, no matter how vile and degrading. He suggests she abuses his submission as far as she cares or wishes to explore.

Like before, Bianca appears most of the time not half invested in the randy exchanges as he is, but why should he expect or care otherwise?

She does enliven when talk moves to certain subjects.

“I like hurting men.”

“How do you go at that?”

“Whip them.”

“What else?”

“Slapping them.”

“Ballbusting?”

“Especially kicking their balls.”

“You did not kick my balls much last time.”

“You did not like when I did.”

“What does it make you feel, punishing balls?”

“It makes me crazy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Makes me Horny. Very hard.”

“You can hurt my balls at your heart’s desire next time.”

“I’ll do that for sure. Slap and kick them.”

“Don’t hold back.”

“Baby, I Love your cock and balls. Perfect for busting.”

“Thank you, I guess… How will you do it?”

“Put you in front of me. Want to see your reactions.”

“Hope so.”

“Your hands at your back. Spread your legs wide.”

“Yes. I’ll push my balls out for you.”

“And every kick I will give to your balls, you will say thank you my Love.”

“I’ll mean it.”

“When I see your reaction hurting, not enjoying, I will call you close to me and punch your balls.”

Her words do things to Tom’s brain, he’s surprised and very aroused. Could she be the one he’s been searching for?

“And when you get hard from busting my balls?”

“Stick your tongue in my hole make her feel excitement till my cock cum.”

“…”

“I want you to lay down on floor sitting on your back while I spanking your balls.”

****

He spots her, the same place as the first time, on the busy bars street of Angeles’ noisy, dirty party district. She wears a dark blue narrow dress, stopping mid thigh. It looks very cheap and ridiculous on Bianca’s boyish body, with its narrow hips and protruding bones. The bra that closes too high on the back is clearly visible and adds to the disgraceful image of a no longer young man dressed most inappropriately. The image is completed by greasy hair and tired female flat shoes abused by male feet.

They greet and examine each other. Tom wishes he finds something to say, but he can not.

“Did you miss, me?” she asks.

“Yes. I missed you. Missed you a lot. Missed every part of you.”

She grabs his hand and brings her face close to plant in a kiss on his lips. As if that’s not bad enough, a couple of vulgar women nearby cheer. Tom finds it embarrassing and laughable.

“Where do you want to go?”

“Let’s go to your place.”

Bianca waves to the cheering ladies and they respond with excited vulgar innuendo.

They kiss more on the way, longer and mouth wider as they near. Tom stops Bianca on the stairs to her room for a proper, deeper kiss that drags for minutes. Her mouth tastes as foul as he remembers and exploring it is as revolting as it is arousing. He has his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. He slides his hand between their bodies and reaches for her cock. He rubs it through her dress and panties to erection.

He would kneel in front of her and suck her, but the crammed residential building is busy and there are people passing by. Some clearly recognize Bianca and make gestures or say things.

“I want to suck your dick.” he whispers in her ear.

She leads him hands locked to her room, where she pushes him on his knees. She takes her cock out and shoves it in his mouth. It smells and tastes strongly, with the piss odor overpowering even more revolting ones.

Tom applies himself to giving her head as if his life depends on it. He pulls her panties down and when and for how long she allows him, he tongues her balls.

“Take your clothes off.” she orders him. “I want to see you naked.”

He undresses while trying to get accustomed to the small, crammed and Hot room. He can not discover a good place to leave his folded clothes and places them on the mattress.

“On your knees!”

She puts her left foot in his groin, pushing in his swollen penis.

“Very Horny.” she comments.

She gives him a soft slapping with her foot on his balls and takes her dress off.

“Hold your cock!”

She stabs and presses his balls with her foot. Though she’s not hitting him hard, Tom finds it painful and uncomfortable. And more so as the abuse continues. He fights between the instinct to cover his balls with his hands and his desire to open wider and push out to give her better access. When the first impulse wins, she draws back.

“Mouth!”

He opens, she spits wide over mouth and face.

She sits on the mattress.

“Kiss my feet, slave!”

He kneels to kiss her right foot, toes to ankle. Then the left.

“Stand up!”

Bianca rises and meets him. She straightens him out and puts her hands on his hips. She kisses him while her right hand finds its way to his balls and grabs them.

“I like hurting your balls.”

She squeezes, changing direction and pressing them between palm and fingers or against each other. His poor testicles suffer what every boy is most afraid of. He starts making faces. She watches him from inches away.

“I Love it. You do?”

He does not answer. His balls feel they’re about to pop.

“Does it hurt, baby?”

She squeezes more, to his panting and moaning.

“You can more?”

He fears she’ll ruin his balls, but also answering and so stays mum. She pulls back and pushes him down.

“At my feet! Suck my toes!”

He does, very relieved and happy yet disappointed she stopped. Her toes are dirty and taste bad, taste like smelly feet. He goes through all of them on her close directions. Then as ordered, he licks her feet up, to ankles, along the scarred and burned shins. To her inner thighs, ever closer to the smelly, dirty panties she’s wearing. She pushes his face into them and in her cock sticking out.

“Take them off.”

He does that and she takes them from him. She carefully opens them and shows them to him in and out, stains front and back. She presses them down his face and holds them for him to lick them. He takes to massage her balls, partly because he likes playing with dudes’ balls and partly to take his attention from the vile flavors. Bianca shoves the awful cloth in his mouth and stops to enjoy her work.

“You are very good with my balls, slave. You really like it a lot.”

“Yes, Bianca, I Love your balls.” he mumbles through her panties.

She laughs. Her cock is hard.

“They waited for you. You have to wash them with your mouth.”

“I want to.”

“I know you do, I can see that.” Her foot between his legs raises and presses in his balls and hard cock.

“I did not wash today. And yesterday. I knew you be disappointed otherwise.”

He moans, surprising himself.

She takes the panties from his mouth and pushes his head down on her cock. He sucks her as she lays back, propped on elbows. When she’s had enough, he moves to tongue the smelly balls.

Why do they smell so strongly of piss? he wonders.

Bianca, like most Filipinos, is fairly hairless. There are long, thick, black hairs above her cock and some around her balls, with odd ones on her sack. He sucks it, licks it, goes over the thigh and tries to avoid going lower, though her hand keeps pressing him.

She drags herself up on the mattress and opens her legs wide. She presses her hands beneath her legs to raise them.

“Wash my Ass! No, smell it first, slave. How do you like it?”

“It’s… it smells so bad.”

“Do you like it, baby?”

“Yes, I do. I Love it.” Tom’s limp now cock swells some, not because of the ugly sight and sickly odors, but because of the shame its owner is going through.

“Okay, baby. Wash my Ass, make it very clean. I know you’re a good boy.”

Tom spreads her Ass cheeks further and uses his tongue tip to reach in there. It’s acrid and fecal and he just have to go through with it. He ponders whether to tell her it’s too hard a job, too unsanitary and could he please not do it? He can not ask that, though, and so he applies himself to the task at hand, err, tongue, harder, wetter and wider as he goes on and the vileness subsides.

Once he finishes eating all the nastiness of Bianca’s Ass, Tom starts to enjoy having his face buried between her legs and wholeheartedly applies himself to moving his tongue from thigh to thigh and buttock to scrotum, giving particular attention to the butthole that still doesn’t taste right.

But his enjoyment that gave rise to a stiff dick, to two stiff dicks, is not meant to last. Bianca has one favorite activity for him, sucking her cock, to which he has to return. His jaw hurts already, despite the day being young.

He’s stopped when her phone rings. She takes the call and after a few exchanges she signs him to the center of the open floor space. She wants him in some position that he fails to grasp. With the phone removed from her head, she tells him to sit on his heels, hands clasped.

He doesn’t find out what she’s saying, though he picks out enough English words in her mix of languages to guess he may have become the subject of conversation and laughter.

She moves around and to the window, letting him observe her boyish body from behind: slim, long legs, small butt, narrow hips to shoulders.

He finds himself excited and appalled to be in Bianca’s room again. Now that he can study it longer, he finds it a lot dirtier than first the time around. Stale food in a styrofoam tray on the floor. Stained, old bed sheets. The rags that must be Bianca’s wardrobe scattered around.

She turns back to him and feeds him her dick. Still on the phone. Tom’s pretty sure it’s about him. He guesses the other party is being informed of what’s going on at that very moment. She interrupts him a couple of times to dump in his mouth a yucky spit ball she has gathered noisily from the back of her own.

When she puts the phone away she bends over him and opens her mouth very wide on his. Tongues meet, lips are chewed. For some reason, Tom finds it harder on him than earlier in the day. It definitely tastes rotten, it has a toilet quality to it. His mouth revolts as she does not let go of the fetid kiss. She sits on the one plastic outdoor chair in her room and drags him still on his knees to her, to continue the oral villainy. Twice in a row he’s overwhelmed by puke reflexes that he stops only up in the throat. She doesn’t let go, not for a moment, not when he takes his hands from his back and means to put them forward. The abuse brings tears to his eyes.

At last, she pushes him on her cock.

“Yeah, baby. Suck it! Suck my cock!”

She pushes out on the stool to give him better access. He’s relieved.

“Are you my dog?” she wants to know.

He’d answer, but has Bianca’s small dick lodged in the back of his mouth.

“I want to hear you’re my dog.”

She lets him breathe after a deep, forceful mouth fuck.

He nods, chin covered in spit and mucus, tears back to his eyes. “Yes, your dog. I’m your dog.”

“Good! Let me see it. Walk like a dog. Door and back.”

He does as told, walking on all fours, sitting on his ankles, hand on the floor, butt in the air, with elbows on the floor and chin on hands. Rolling on the floor is the worst, too absurd to believe. He fixates on her face and her hard dick through the ordeal, she grabs at and slaps lightly at his balls.

“Maybe I should get you a collar. Have you eat and drink from a bowl. What do you think?”

For a moment Tom feels like telling Bianca exactly what he thinks. Something along the lines of you stupid, stinky, ugly fuck, why don’t you go dog walk yourself! He only manages “I am your dog. I don’t think.” out loud.

“Good doggy. Come here. On the knees! Straighten up! Butt forward!”

She grabs his balls and plays with them in her right hand. She puts the left in his hair and pulls down to force his face upwards. She squeezes and twists and watches him. He squirms and tries to suppress moans and cries.

“Are you okay?”

What kind of question is that?

She squeezes harder, alternating between full palm or between finger tips. His mind is on his breath.

“I Love your face now. So hurtful. Do you like it?”

Harder. He sweats scared.

“Please!” he moans softly. “Yes, I do!” He can not bring himself to say no, no matter how strongly he feels.

“You want me to do harder?”

He pants.

“Yes, please.”

She does, he cries and falls. It’s not so bad, now that she has stopped. He lies on the floor, not ready to pick himself up. He’s thirsty, the room’s too Hot.

“Up, sit on your butt. Open! Wide! Wider!”

Fingers enter his mouth, two, then three. She stands above him, fucking his mouth. He gags, she helps him. Light slaps on the cheeks, he smiles tears back in his eyes. More mouth hand fucking.

“I think you had enough. Would you like to suck my cock?”

“Yes, please, very much so.”

She laughs.

“Yeah, I know you do. That’s the only thing you want.”

No, that’s the only thing you want. he protests mentally.

But rather than have him suck her, she shoves his mouth onto her cock, pressing and holding his face tightly against her belly. Still more fucking. He has to struggle for air a couple of times and places his hands lightly on her hips even more often. He just does not dare to push her out.

She pulls out and turns his head to the side. He breathes noisily. She pulls him by the hair to face her up and clears her throat. He opens his mouth for another spitball.

She leaves him to check her phone by the window, naked and with a stiff erection, allowing Tom time to recover. When she’s done, she posts herself in front of him.

“Try not to make much noise.”

He nods. The walls are thin and they can hear the neighbors.

“Spread them wide. Wider!”

Tom spread his legs.

She raises her knee and gives him soft slaps with her foot.

“Hands at your back.”

She takes one step back and kicks him. Not really hard, but it hurts like a bitch. She repeats. Once, twice… He cries loudly and leans forward after the fourth kick. She helps him straighten up and resumes the abuse. She’s hard.

“You can do it, baby. This what you want. Let me see your face.”

His mind shuts down, torn between conflicting imperatives. His body decides it’s time to take to the floor after a dozen kicks.

Bianca waits for him on the mattress before ordering him to all fours.

“Crawl to me. Was it good, baby?”

“Yes. Yes, please.”

“Did you like?”

“I needed it.” He had believed that. It was him that had told her he needed some serious balls kicking. At the time it was aroused talk and much fun. What just happened, not so much.