Archive-name: Slaves/bssb.txt Archive-author: Ms. Barbara Coleman and Ms. Lucille Day Archive-title: Black Stenographers Strike Back The old office building was run down. The once white neighborhood was now all black, and the area was constantly affected by crime. In the Nolan Building, the first seven floors were vacant. Only the ninth floor was in steady use, and this was a black publishing company known as "Sepia Review". The total office personnel consisted of the owner, Mrs. Jardine, a black woman in her early fifties, and eleven female staff members. Four were stenographers, and the remaining seven were responsible for putting together each monthly issue. On this particular day, everyone was quite unhappy. Another white advertiser had dropped his monthly ad. That terrible act was the fifth in the past month. None of the white bookstores or white newsstands wanted to carry "Sepia Review". "God damn white capitalists, they tell us to make it on our own, but when we try, they won't even offer a helping hand." This was Ann Thompson speaking, a tall, extremely well-built black stenographer. She had a very live audience in the girls that were listening. At this moment, each of them hated Mister Whitey. Mrs. Jardine had already informed them that the magazine might go under within the year, but that there would be no layoffs before that time. Each night, the girls always went down in groups of two or three, because the elevators were not safe in this almost deserted building. The owner held on to it because he knew its value would skyrocket in the next three years. Mrs. Jardine's company paid his upkeep expenses. By contractual agreement, the owner was required to supply a full time custodian to take care of the office needs, empty the trash, clean the offices, and in general supply the necessary custodial services. Francis Ipano was twenty three, a previously unemployed high school graduate, fairly good-looking, and white. The building owner gave him the job only because Francis did not request a big salary. His duties were fairly simple: keep the place clean, and see Mrs. Jardine about any office needs she might have. Ann Thompson had her desk right at the front door. At one time she had been the receptionist, but now, no one visited. They were too afraid of the neighborhood. Behind Ann sat Joyce, very tall yet very feminine in an almost Amazonian way. The other girls occupied desks all the way back to the glass enclosed office where Mrs. Jardine tried to keep the company together. Although the miniskirt was now obsolete, both Ann and Joyce wore them every day. They were sort of trying to out-do each other, but they were inseparable friends. The only panties they ever wore were soft pink nylon bikinis with lace trim. It seems that a traveling store buyer once sold them a gross for a very good price, probably because they were hot, and now each girl owned seventy-two pairs of pink lace panties. When you work in an office day in and day out with no visitors, you tend to relax in the way you sit, sometimes exposing yourself. Ann had fallen into this habit. Joyce was the same way, but her desk had a closed front, while Ann's was wide open, exposing her lower waist to anyone who might come to the glass- paneled door. On this particular day, she was sitting very carelessly, legs wide open, slouched down at her desk so that part of her marvelous posterior was hanging off the edge of the chair. Her panties had worked their way into the hairy folds of her cunt, and the sight being offered was erotic, to say the least. Now, Francis was about to leave the elevator to meet Mrs. Jardine, to tell her he was the new custodian. The old black janitor had retired. Ann was busy reading 'Cosmopolitan', and did not notice Francis approaching the front door. He stopped. His eyes could not miss the bizarre display of black thighs and pink lace panties. He kept staring, feeling an erection begin to grow immediately. The crotch of her panties had completely sunk into the full soft folds of her cunt lips, allowing Francis to see the very lips themselves and the black forest of hair surrounding them. Her buttock cheeks were also there to see, as they hung fully below the edge of the chair. He was breathing very erratically. She glanced up, but Francis did not catch her eyes as they watched his. She did not move. Quietly she called to Joyce to attract her attention, and both women sat there watching as Francis as he stared at the mysterious spot all girls have. His hand touched his crotch, rubbing ever so gently. Then he saw her looking. His hand fell to his side, his face turned scarlet, and he seemed to jump. Ann kept smiling at him. He lowered his eyes and entered the office. His red cheeks were so damn obvious. He approached Ann's desk. "Yes, may I be of assistance?" She tried to sound very businesslike, but she was ready to crack up laughing at his nervous state. "Good morning, ma'am. I'm your new custodian, and I'm supposed to see Mrs. Jardine." "Oh, is that all you is? Here I was, using my best office voice, and you ain't nothing but a honky cleanup man - or should I say 'boy'? Wait a minute." She used the intercom. "Mrs. Jardine, the new custodian is here. Yes ma'am, right away." Looking back at Francis, she smirked, "Okay, white boy, you go right down this aisle here to that funny glass room. You got that?" He stumbled by her desk, almost tripping. Joyce and Ann were watching him very closely. He was strange. After he entered Mrs. Jardine's office, Joyce turned to Ann. "What do you make of that honky? He seemed all shook up, didn't he? He was staring at your pussy all that time? Why, you black floozy!" They both broke up laughing. Mrs. Jardine was busy explaining Francis' duties to him. She was not prejudiced in the least, and treated him very warmly. "Now, you go down to my receptionist, Miss Ann Thompson, and she will show you where the shreddings are that must be picked up every day. I hope you enjoy your job here, Francis, and good luck." Joyce watched him as he approached Ann. She did not bother to turn to face him, and after a very awkward and silent moment, he walked around to the front of her desk. Ann kept on reading 'Cosmopolitan'. He stood there quietly while Joyce stared at him quizzically. He shifted from foot to foot, and soon Pam and Louise had stopped working to join in with Joyce, staring at this grown man waiting for Ann to acknowledge him. Ann knew he was there; she was just playing games with him. She wanted to see just how long this honky would stand there. Finally, he choked out a word. "Ma'am?" Silence. "Ma'am?" Ann did not look up. "Yes?" she replied quietly. He almost whispered. "Mrs. Jardine said you would show me where the shredding pickups are to be made." Ann did not budge. "Alright, but wait until I finish this article." Now the girls had whispered to one another, and everyone was staring at Francis. Ann continued to read. Francis did not budge from the spot. He knew this was foolish. After all, he did not work for them, but for the owner, Mr. Quinn. Perhaps he should walk over to the table, pick up a magazine, and read while he waited for this very direct female to be ready for him. He felt all of their eyes staring at him. He turned in the direction of the small table, but Ann stopped him without even raising her eyes. She knew all of the fellow workers were watching with erotic interest. Ann liked an audience. "Just where do you think you're going?" Francis stopped cold. "Just to pick up a magazine, Ma'am, if that's alright?" Ann waited until she was sure her group was listening. "No, it's not alright. You stay put until I'm ready!" Now you could hear a pin drop. All of the typewriters were silent. Only the turning of a page was heard as Ann continued her reading. Francis got red, then more so. Joyce was trying to hold a giggle in. Pam stood up. She could not really believe that this was happening. Francis swayed uneasily, as his feet seemed to be getting numb. He wanted to shift from one foot to the other, but was too afraid to move. Minutes ticked by. Five, then ten. This was unbelievable. Why was he allowing this to happen? Finally, Ann closed the magazine and stood up. She smoothed out her miniskirt, looked at the girls knowingly, and took off. "Follow me." Francis was caught off guard, but when he realized that she was about to show him his job, he sort of jumped forward nervously and caught up to her, but stayed a few inches behind her left shoulder. Soon they were out of sight. "Hey, Joyce, what the hell was that all about? Ann acted like she owned that honky. Why the hell did he stay there all that time?" Joyce smiled. "I think Ann owns our new janitor. You get that, Pam? You get my meaning? That guy was cooked the minute he saw Ann's pussy. Man, I'll bet she's having a ball with him right now." "That's shredder number 1. Every day, you get every scrap of paper from inside it and around it, and take it down to the big incinerator in the basement. The same goes for shredders 2, 3, and 4. You got that? And I mean every shred. Also, there are two bathrooms, one right down the hall that everyone uses, and a smaller one up on the tenth floor. I know that the tenth floor is deserted, but Joyce and I use the one up there. It gives us the privacy to smoke a joint and talk freely when it's slow down here. I don't have to tell you that both bathrooms are to be kept spotless, especially the one that Joyce and I use." "Twice weekly, you mop the offices. On Friday, you clean Mrs. Jardine's office. I guess that's all for now. Do you have any questions?" Francis had none. All the time that she had been talking, Francis stared at her with great interest, trying to please her with his intention of doing a good job. She waited. He did not know what to say or do. They were all alone in the cutting room, with only the background noise breaking the silence. She walked over to the old wooden desk in the corner, giving Francis a slow, full picture of her rounded but firm buttocks. She then hiked her short skirt up nearly to her waist and sat on the edge of the desk. Her legs were wide open, and Francis began to salivate as his eyes had to peer into the warm, dark vision. Ann loved it. His whole docile manner. What a yo yo he was, she thought to herself. She saw the erection forming in his tan work pants. She let him look a few more minutes, and then told him that he had better get started with the shredders since they had not been emptied in almost a week. She left him and returned to the office. The minutes she walked in, all the girls were up and at her desk, wanting to know what had happened with the new honky custodian. Ann sat there, smiling at them, patiently listing their questions in her mind. "Now, I'm sure that you innocents will have no idea of what I'm talking about, but that skinny white boy is what I call slave material. See, you girls don't even know what I'm talking about, do you? Hey, Leslie honey, remember that day you were complaining to me that black men don't like to French? Well, that white boy that just left here will eat your pussy until summertime if you tell him to. Dig? TELL him to. Oh, what's the use - it just doesn't ring a bell, does it? Did you all see how scared he was? Doesn't that make you wonder? What do you think a straight guy would have done? Do you think he would have stayed put in one place for that long? Whitey did, though!" The girls were all just staring at her with blank looks on their faces. Not Joyce, though. She had been friends with Ann for over ten years, and they had read about males who were like this Francis. "Hey Joyce, how about you and me having lunch together today? I want to talk to you about something." Francis worked hard in the shredding room. The week long build up of paper had made the job that much more difficult. He got over seven barrels of shredded paper from each shredding room. When Joyce and Ann entered the elevator to go to lunch, Francis was only thirty feet away, working on the second shredding room. The girls went to the Capri Lounge because Ann said that she wanted to have a drink with lunch. After the cocktails were served, Ann settled back, smiled at Joyce, and began what was destined to become the most bizarre conversation that they had ever had together. "Joyce, honey, you remember that night about a year ago, when we read that magazine about dominant females? Do you remember what we talked about? C'mon, Joyce, what were we talking about that night? Remember? It was pouring rain, and we had just looked at the picture of the naked guy in chains." Joyce looked at her. "Yeah! I can see you remember! Well, Joyce, I had an idea today. I think it's really wild, but I won't go through with it unless you think it'd be fun too." Joyce sipped her drink, half laughing, half staring in astonishment at her closest friend. "Ann, I don't know what you got in mind, but you got THAT look, and this is the first time we drank our lunch in a long time. But I'm game, honey, to anything you say." Ann swallowed the rest of her drink, ordered another, and then started to talk again. "I got the idea just as we started talking a little while ago. It has something to do with that other bathroom on the tenth floor. You know, our little private bathroom. Are you with me, girl? Oh shit, I hope so!" Ann began to unfold her bizarre plan to Joyce. The young woman's eyes just got wider and wider. "You've got to be kidding, Ann, you've just got to be." Ann smiled. "Why, Joyce? Everybody talks and talks and talks, but you and I got us a chance to really do something wild. You know you want to, don't you? If you chicken out now, Joyce, we'll never get another chance. If we pull that fuse in the elevator, then no one, not even that new janitor, can get to the tenth floor. The stairs aren't safe. And no one would want to, since the tenth floor is deserted. C'mon, Joyce, what do you say?" Finally, they ordered another drink and shook hands. It was all set. That evening they would meet at Ann's to discuss their plan of attack. It was very risky, but if they did it right, it would work, and they would feel so erotic just knowing what they did. That evening they lay in bed in each other's arms and went over everything in detail, time and time again. When they finally fell asleep, Joyce was lying at Ann's feet with her face resting on the full brown thigh. The following morning, Ann kept her eyes peeled for Francis. She had to give him orders in a very nonchalant way so that he would be at the tenth floor bathroom at exactly noon. At ten-thirty that morning she saw him pass her office on his way to the third shredding room. She told Pam that she was going to take a coffee break, and left the office. Joyce watched her leave, knowing where she was going, and feeling her heart beat faster at the thought of what was yet to come. Francis did not hear her coming in. He was picking loose scraps of paper up from the floor and loading them into a big trash bag. When she spoke, he almost lost his balance turning toward her. She loved the fear that seemed to come over him whenever he saw her. No words were spoken, but they both knew the power she had simply by being there. "How's it going, Francis? Catching on to all the rules? Good. You just might work out if you stay on the ball and do as you're told." Francis could not help but to answer her with his head downcast. She liked that. It showed respect, but more importantly, fear. "Today I want to show you how I want the bathroom on the tenth floor cleaned for Joyce and me, so I want you up there at today at noon sharp. Do I detect a question in your face? No ifs, ands, or buts, Francis. You be there at twelve exactly, and Joyce and I will instruct you on how to keep OUR private bathroom just the way we want it." With that, she came closer and pinched his cheek, which made his face a deep scarlet. "I like you, Francis, do you know that? I think you're very sweet. I like a man who knows his place, and you know your place, don't you? Do you know what a slave is, Francis? No? Well, you and I should talk about that someday. You would be perfect. See you at twelve." With that, she was gone. Francis was trembling. He did not want to meet them on the tenth floor. He was afraid of them, especially Ann. Perhaps they really wanted to show him how to clean the bathroom properly. For two days now, he had tried to avoid this very attractive black girl who scared him just by being in his presence. But he knew he had to be there at twelve or this girl was going to be very angry, and for some unknown reason, he did not want to anger her. It was eleven forty-five, and Joyce was standing by Ann's desk. She was very nervous and Ann sensed it. "Relax, baby. This is going to be fun for us for a long time. Try to look at it as fun, okay?" Joyce smiled. She was looking forward to carrying out their plans, but she was scared, too. Her panties were damp, so she knew in her heart that the idea was appealing to her. It was a slow day, and both Joyce and Ann had permission to take two hours for lunch instead of one, on the pretense of shopping. At twelve noon, they made sure the hallway was empty, and they boarded the elevator for the tenth floor. Francis was waiting. He had been there for almost twenty frightening minutes. He did not know why he came up so early - he just did. He had not been able to concentrate on his work since Ann had spoken to him that morning. He wished that she was coming alone instead of with the other girl, but he had nothing to say about it, one way or the other. The tenth floor was empty space, cold, dark, and deserted. The bathroom was about eighty feet from the elevator doors, and Francis was standing outside of it waiting for the elevator light to blink red. He knew that his heart was going to leap into his throat once it did. He had peeked into the bathroom earlier. It was definitely a ladies room, still usable, still quite fashionable. There were five stalls. Four were still functional, but the last one, near the window, was empty. The toilet had been removed, but the pipes still remained in the cold tile floor. The red light blinked. He jumped. His eyes stared as the doors slowly parted, and then he saw Ann and Joyce walking toward him. They were so big. Not fat - in fact they were lean and shapely. But tall. And feminine. In high heels they both had a good six inches on him. Francis was very slim, and hardly five feet nine inches tall. As they got closer, he felt their eyes looking more and more down at him instead of at him. "Well, I see that you're punctual, Francis. That's good. Do you know Joyce? No? Well, Joyce, say hello to Francis. He's going to keep our toilets nice and clean for us." Both girls could see how scared he was, and this only increased their anticipation of what they were planning to do. Francis had to follow them into the sunlit tile-covered room. He stood there very red faced as Ann opened on of the stall doors. She called him over, pointing to the bowl, where inside the water lay quietly. "Now, Francis, I want these bowls to be spotless. No stains, no marks, just sparkling white porcelain. And get some of those blue disinfectant things that go into the tank. Oh darn, I have to pee. Hold on for minute, Francis." He was standing just inside the cubicle, and Joyce was right behind him. Ann began to lift her skirt, and he started to turn away. "Relax, Francis, you can watch. We're friends, aren't we? There is no need for you to be shy with Joyce and me, is there?" She pulled her pink lace panties down to her knees and sat on the cold seat, spreading her legs with her dress up around her hips. Francis tried to look away, but his eyes were drawn to the black pussy on display. Joyce was soaking her panties with tiny orgasms. "Hey, Francis, your eyes are going to burn a hole in my pussy. Is this the first pussy you ever saw?" He got redder and redder. He could not speak. "Hey, are you a virgin? Well, I'll be damned, you are a virgin." She had wiped herself, and was pulling her panties up, dropping her skirt down over her shapely legs. Then she pointed to the window. "I want that window cleaned inside and out, so that there is plenty of natural sunlight in here all the time. And these basins - get the stains out and keep them spotless." Now came the moment that Ann and Joyce had worried so much about. The test. Was Francis really putty in their hands? First came the simple test, and if it worked, then came the rest of the plan. Ann turned to Francis, while Joyce stood just to his left. They both towered over him, and his back was against the cold tiled wall. "I am being nice to you today, Francis, because you are new, but if you fuck up any of these chores, do you know what I'm going to do to you?" Francis shuddered visibly. His eyes could not find any way to avoid both women, who were staring at him intently. His voice sounded girlish as he replied that he did not know. Ann gently ran her fingers through his thick black hair, then closed her fingers and pulled upward until he was standing on tiptoe before her. She brought her face close to his, until their noses were touching. "If you fuck up, Francis, Joyce and I are going to whip your lily white ass until you can't stand up. Do you understand? Good, but don't just say 'yes'. Say 'Yes, Mistress Ann' or 'Yes, Mistress Joyce'. Now do you understand? That's a good boy. I think Joyce and I are going to be very pleased with you. Yes, I do." She was still pulling upward on his hair, and he just sort of hung there on tiptoe staring helplessly into her eyes. The tears of humiliation were hiding just beyond his eyelids. Joyce wanted to join in, but there was no room for her, so she just stood there to his left, enjoying this erotic scene ecstatically. "Now, Francis, how do we know that you'll be all of the things that we want you to be? You can just tell us you will be, but once I release you, you may just be lying to us. I know you'll say that you aren't, but how do we know for sure? I say we give you a little test right now, and if you pass it, the we'll know that you'll be a good obedient slave for us, okay, Francis?" His hair felt as if it was coming out by the roots. He had no choice but to agree, and he answered, "Yes, Mistress Ann." She was delighted. "You remembered to address us properly. I really am proud of you already, Francis. Aren't you, Joyce?" Now she pulled harder, and he whimpered babylike. "Before we start testing you, Francis, I think it's only fair to tell you what Joyce and I are like when we get pissed off. If you could see us when we lose our tempers, you would be so scared that you would run out of the room. Do you get my meaning, Francis? When we test you now, I think that the wisest thing for you to do is to obey us immediately, or else you get to see our bad sides. But I'm not worried about you, Francis. You've been doing fine so far." Now Ann released him, and she and Joyce walked over to the bathroom door, and stood there, blocking it. Francis ran his fingers through his scalp to soothe the painful tingling. He then looked at the two determined black girls, wondering what was coming next. He knew that he intended to pass their test no matter what it was. He knew that they were alone up on this deserted floor, with the nearest person three reinforced concrete floors below. He was terrified of Ann. To disobey her might mean real harm, while obedience meant that she would be pleased with him. He was sure that the test would be something like cleaning a sink or a toilet, and he intended to make it spotless. All of his cleaning supplies were just outside the door. "Francis?" He looked at Ann, who was smiling. "Yes, Mistress Ann?" She stared hard, hoping he would realize what trouble he was in if he failed to obey her NOW. "Take off all of your clothes, Francis!" The words reached his ears, then his brain. He looked at her quizzically. Then fear set in. Strip? Had he heard her correctly? "You're not obeying me, Francis," she warned. Why his clothes? Did she mean all of them? She was looking very mean now, and so was Joyce. He started to unbutton his shirt. His fingers trembled so hard he could hardly undo each button. "You're very slow, Francis. I hope I can control my temper with you." He laid the shirt on the basin. What should he take off next? He had to do something. He bent over and then removed his shoes and his socks. Now, he hesitated. "Francis, I was very happy with you a few minutes ago. You addressed us correctly, and Joyce and I thought we had a nice warm friendship started. But we are getting angry now, and in a minute your ass is going to be very sorry that you fucked up the way you are doing now. I am going to warn you for the last time, and I do hope you listen to me. Get your clothes off NOW, Francis!" Her voice had changed drastically. There was no smile. Her girl friend looked extremely angry. He dreaded removing any more clothing in this brightly sunlit bathroom in front of these two dominant black girls, but what could he do? He was afraid not to obey her. He tugged his tee shirt over his head. He felt so naked already. His pale chest was almost totally hairless. His hands went to his belt buckle. He could not look at either of them as he slid his trousers down to his ankles and stepped out of them. Now, his eyes stayed on the cold floor while his hands seemed to be hiding the crotch of his white jockey shorts. "Francis!" Her voice was deadly warning. He slid the shorts to his ankles and stepped out of them. Now he covered his nakedness with his hands, not daring to look at either of them. Joyce shook Ann's hand and whispered in her ear. "Lady, you were right all this time, weren't you?" Ann smiled at her and kissed her on the cheek. They both studied this nude honky youth cringing before them. Frank had not noticed the bag in Joyce's hands when the two women had arrived. Ann directed him to the last stall, the one near the window. The one with no toilet in it. After he entered, she told him to turn around and face the stall door, which he did. She liked his ass as he walked into the stall. Ann reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of pink lace panties. She handed them to Francis. "Put these on. A proper slave must be properly dressed in his pretty panties." Francis looked at the floor as he pulled the lacy panties up his legs and into place. "Now, Francis, have you ever eaten a pussy?" His eyes bulged in his head. He could not believe that this was really happening to him. Afternoon - most of the world at work or at lunch, and here he was, dressed only in lacy girl's panties in this deserted bathroom with two extremely dominant black women. And now one was going to tell him to do something he had read about, but never even came close to doing. "Now, you get down on your knees, right here in front of me." He did. His knees were between the rdmaining floor pipes from the removed toilet. He stared straight ahead at her waist. He saw her dress being raised, then her pale pink panties being slowly pushed down over the lush full hips. Then he saw her pussy, close up, inches from his eyes. He saw her long legs spread as she parted her high heeled feet. "Now, Francis dear, you are going to eat my cunt. Just let your head follow my hand." The hand gathered his hair in once again, but not viciously like before. His head was bent backwards, and then drawn in. The warm full thighs closed over his cheeks and ears. The forest of kinky black hair was pressing against his face. "Okay, slave, start licking." He instantly obeyed the command high above him. As his tongue worked feverishly to please her, the strong thighs tightened, painfully so, and unnecessarily so. Then he felt something next to him. It must be the other girl, he thought, but why was she squeezing into the stall too? He kept working on the slick lips of Ann's cunt. His neck hurt from the angle she had forced it into. Something was happening to his wrist. A rope was being tied to it. He started to move, but the legs clamped even tighter, and he could hardly breathe. Then another rope was tied to his other wrist. Suddenly, Ann backed away, and Joyce, too, stood up and left the stall. Francis stared at them. Then he realized that his hands were held to his sides, right at the floor. He looked down to see ropes going from his wrists to the old pipes in the floor. Now he was terrified. "Please, lady.... I mean, Mistress Ann, why are you doing this to me? I tried to be like you told me to be, and I will do anything you say, but these ropes are scary." Ann leaned over and lifted his chin up so his eyes met hers. "Do you have any idea why you are tied up in this particular position in this particular place? The deserted bathroom with the missing toilet?" She looked right into his eyes. "You're a toilet now, Francis, our toilet. Me and Joyce are going to use you instead of these cold seats in these other stalls. You don't understand, do you? Joyce, get behind him. Now, you just watch, Francis, okay?" He had no idea what she was talking about. He felt Joyce working her long body behind him, and then Ann took the hem of her dress and raised it to her waist. Her panties slid down her hips seductively. But her black forest disappeared from view as she turned her back to him, presenting a voluptuous pair of shapely ass cheeks. Then Joyce grabbed his hair, and his head was tilted back until he was staring at the ceiling. Now the shapely ass began to settle downward toward his helpless face. As the darkness closed in as Ann's ass cheeks enveloped his face, he heard her voice. "If you want to get out of here, Francis, then I'd advise you to open your mouth real wide and take everything that I give you. And swallow it." His mouth opened like a robot. He did not understand even yet what was happening. The hand pulling his hair was brutal. The soft fleshy cheeks settled on his face, getting heavier and heavier as she sat on his face. Then Ann farted, a long slow, juice-producing fart, and both women laughed very vulgarly as the thick ass slime settled into his mouth. Her ass was pressed so tightly to his mouth that he did not even smell it. Ann shifted her ass back, pressing her thick moist pussy against his lips. Then the flood came, a torrent of hot golden piss. It filled his mouth, and before he could swallow, it was running down his chin and dribbling on his chest. He swallowed repeatedly. Ann pissed in his mouth for what seemed like hours. She must have been holding it all day. Then Ann shifted her ass back again, and something soft and warm touched his lips. It was like a spoiled banana and very slippery and moist. It slid into the cavity of his mouth, and grew. Oh god, it was a turd. He tried to yell out, but the probing softness slid to the back of his throat and he had to swallow. Ann's long, slippery turd slid continuously down his throat until her ass closed around the end of it. Francis felt the tapered end slide down his throat and into his stomach. "Very good, Francis, but you're not done yet. Lick my asshole clean. After all, you're my toilet paper now too, ain't you? Hey, Joyce, have you got dessert for our hungry little toilet?" After Francis licked her asshole and pussy shining clean, Ann was up and dressed in seconds. Then she was behind him and his head was tilted back again as Joyce's shapely black ass spread over his wide-open mouth. As Joyce pushed long hot turds from her ass, she also had repeated orgasms. She was moaning loudly and Ann was laughing at her aroused state. "Hey Joyce, you don't act like that when you're in bed with me!" Now they both laughed as Francis struggled to swallow the thick wet turds sliding out of Joyce's pink asshole. He had to swallow so fast he felt sick, but each time the urge was suppressed by a fat slimy turd sliding down his throat. After Joyce finished, both girls fixed their makeup in the mirror over the basins and straightened out their clothes. Francis just knelt there waiting to be untied. His greatest shock was yet to come. "Hey, Joyce, do you want to tell our slave what we're going to do with him?" Joyce was delighted. "You aren't going anywhere, Francis baby. This is your new home. You're our toilet now." Then they left, and Francis knelt there in his pink lace panties, tugging at the ropes and getting nowhere. It got dark. No sounds could be heard. The bathroom got cold. He cried, he yelled, and soon he slept from sheer exhaustion. He was awakened by Joyce, who was coming in to work. "Open up, baby cakes, Mommy has to piss." He felt the hot golden spray blast from her cunt against the back of his throat. "Swallow it all, pig, or I'll personally break your balls." He drank every drop of Joyce's hot piss and licked her pussy clean. At lunchtime, Ann came in and forced two huge, shining wet turds into his mouth. As he licked her empty asshole clean, she noticed tears on his cheeks. "Hey, Francis, why the tears? You're very lucky, you know that? Joyce and me are going to keep you here until the magazine closes, and then we're taking you to live with us. You're going to be our maid and our toilet. We bought a big old house, and we're going to fix up a special room just for you. You'll have lots of nice lacy panties and bras to wear under your maid's uniform. And high heels, too. So you shouldn't be crying. By the way, I got a key to the main doors, and I'll be back later tonight with a dress for you, and a black guy. I'm not into guys, but I owe a favor, and this guy loves fucking virgins up the ass, so you're it, Francis." Francis was crying as night settled in the window. The cold tile was rough on his knees. How long would this go on? Then he heard voices, and Ann appeared with a huge black guy in African robes. Ann held a bag containing lacy lingerie and had a short black maid's uniform over her arm. The black man opened his trousers to reveal a cock at least fourteen inches long. Tears streamed down Francis' face. --