Leather Skin Biker

I met a hot bottom shit eater through my manscat profile. I will refer to him in my posts as “scatboy.” This boy was right around 30 years old, hot German and Ecuadoran mix. He was very much the hot blooded latin, but the German side of him was very prominent in his personality as well. I would say that made him even more intense. I liked his intensity, his fire, because it reminded me of my own. I found him very attractive upon our first meeting. The whole dark hair, dark eyes can really work me. He was to be only my second eater, but he would become a very significant one. For as long as it lasted, we were very tight.

For our first meeting, we agreed to meet in public. The idea was to talk and feel each other out. We’d done the preliminary stuff online, but we both felt a face to face was a good idea. With this, as is the case with virtually all of my sexual interests, it is all about the head. The intellectual connection is the most important thing for me. The physical is not going to be rewarding if I don’t connect intellectually with the other guy. I suggested that I come up to his part of town, which was my old neighborhood in East Lakeview. I was familiar and comfortable up there, so was happy to meet him there.

On the afternoon we were to meet, I stopped first to grab a bite to eat. The funny thing was that this was maybe 30 minutes pre-meeting time. And as I was walking down Dirversy Parkway, who do I pass on the street, but him. I did a double take, and couldn’t believe I just walked right by him. I immediately wondered whether he knew it was me he just passed. The good news is that he looked even hotter in person than he did in his pics.

He stood a good 6 feet 2 inches tall, kind of bearish, but not too heavy. He had shiny black hair, and dark penetrating brown eyes. He wore a nice black, neatly trimmed goatee. I would later learn that he had a killer smile, beautiful white teeth, and consistently fresh breath. Any preconceived notions I might have been carrying about how a shit eater might be nasty or dirty or disgusting were all blown out of the water by this boy.

When the appointed hour came, I was parked on Cannon Drive, sitting in my Passat. scatboy walked up and just hopped into my car, as if he had known me for years. Cologne is a controversial thing in the BDSM world, but he had on cologne, and I didn’t find it unpleasant. He looked good, he smelled good, and he had something to say, too. I had no complaints. Once his ass was firmly planted in the passenger seat he launched into this deep conversation about what scat meant to him, and the role it played in his life. I was all ears. I had never before had such an intellectual conversation with anyone about shit. I mean leatherscatpig was really into shit, but he never really opened up to me on this level.

What was especially good about this conversation was that scatboy pressed me to articulate my motivation and my understanding of shitsex. I liked the challenge. I couched my answers in terms of power imbalance, dominance and submission, roles, and quite honestly, humiliation. I explained to scatboy my belief that a man who eats another man’s shit was engaging in one of the ultimate acts of submission. I shared with scatboy my views on how incredibly intimate the act of feeding another man my shit is, and how personal it is. A lot of sex can be anonymous, almost mechanical, but this does not feel that way in my experience. A submissive eater who ingests my turds is going to know me in a very personal, deep way. This doesn’t feel casual to me, and it isn’t something I do anonymously. Scatboy got it—I mean really got it. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he would educate me far more than I would educate him about the meaning of scat.

Over the course of several months, I spent a great deal of time with scatboy. Entire weekends would be spent together. Some weekends I would stay with him from Friday evening to Sunday evening, and feed him two, three, up to four times. Gradually, scatboy became very attached to me. There would be bumps in the road, and sometimes we had to “pull over” and take a break. But one thing I will never say is that I felt bored while I was involved with scatboy.

To be continued.

This entry was posted on Sunday, May 18th, 2008 at 8:07 pm and is filed under Dominance, Humiliation, Objectification, Power Imbalance, Psychological Control, Scat, Submission.