Tables Turned Ch. 08 - Final

Cindy wound up high as a kite that evening, and just bubbling with enthusiasm over her interactions with Bobo. As you will recall, we left Cindy with Bobo's face deep between her ass cheeks, cleaning the residue from inside her little pucker. Bobo, naturally, was in dog heaven. I think his tongue may have grown an inch while he was in there. And Cindy! Grinding her hips in slow ecstatic circles, and exhorting Bobo to show his love for her anus.

"That's it, Bobo. Clean it all out. That's it! Good boy! Mmmmmmm!"

She came once more, and she came hard. I thought she might start drooling. I sat back and looked at them enrapt, Cindy with her neck steeply arched back, her eyes shut, her mouth open and quivering - emitting moans of deep satisfaction.

We slept together in my bed while Bobo crawled exhausted into his closet. It had been an evening to remember, to be sure.

I woke in the early morning to a sound from the direction of the closet. I got up from the bed, and crept quietly across the room. I found the door of the closet ajar, and, as I placed my hand on the doorknob, noted a swift movement from inside. Bobo was spying. I didn't want to wake Cindy ( as if anything could!), so simply whispered through the crack in the door:

"You'll answer for this in the morning, you worm."

The next day was the start of the weekend, and Cindy and I languished under the sheets until ten. I was the first to get up and went to the kitchen to make coffee. I was profoundly disappointed in Bobo for taking liberties, especially when the women he had been spying on had been so generous with him the night before.

With the coffee brewing, and its aroma wafting through the apartment, I set up the waffle iron, stirred up some batter, and went to wake Cindy.

We ate waffles and strips of crisp bacon till we were full, then relaxed in our chairs sipping coffee.

"I just gotta say, Gretchen," Cindy said while delicately dislodging a crumb of bacon with her tongue tip. "that was some night!"

"I had a feeling you'd enjoy Bobo." I said, wondering to what extent she would want to talk about the events. Cindy is a naturally demure creature, except, apparently, when she was venting.

"Can I come over again sometime?" she asked.

"Absolutely, dear. I mean, I had a wonderful time seeing you unload on Bobo. You must feel really good, having got all that out of your system."

"It was amazing, Gretch. Really. I mean, I've never whipped someone before. It was so,so...empowering! I just want to go out and find a Bobo of my own, to be honest." she said, and I could see a spark of enthusiasm in her eyes.

"They are out there, honey. Believe me. Sometimes in the guise of strong, macho, in-command types; the way Bobby used to present himself. And those are the best. I mean, you get to tear them down, pull the curtain back on the wizard, so to speak." I said, and winked at her.

"Just keep your eyes open and your antennae up." I continued. "Believe me, they'll come to you, one way or another," I told her, sounding like an old pro. And although Bobo was my only conquest, I'd taken to sizing up men in my daily life, and could sometimes detect a needy weakling type hiding behind an assumed veneer of confidence. I could see it in their eyes - a kind of pleading.

"So." Cindy said, sounding a bit tentative. "What are you up to today?"

Well, I could tell what Cindy wanted to do!

"First, I need to deal with Bobo. I caught him misbehaving late last night."

"Oh? Misbehaving how?" Cindy said, leaning forward, her elbows on the table.

"He was looking at us while we were in bed. Being a voyeur, the dirty little weasel."

"Well,well. Hmmmm. So? What will you do?"

I'll get him out here for his breakfast. Then we'll have a little heart-to-heart. And I have an idea."

I called out to Bobo, and soon he appeared in the doorway.

"Wash the dishes, Bobo, and put everything away. Then you can eat."

Bobo crawled to the table, got up, and began to clear the dishes.

"Would you like some more coffee, Ms Cindy?" he said.

"Shut up, shit head. No one asked you to talk." I said.

Bobo swiftly went about his appointed chores, and I went to the fridge to get his food. Hmmmm. What to serve him today...

We watched as he vigorously washed the dishes in the sink, wearing his colorful apron and his striped ass showing out of it from behind. Cindy chuckled and grinned at me.

When he was done, I placed his food dish on the floor between Cindy and me, and we watched him eat.

His breakfast was always a distinct pleasure for me to put together. On this morning it was: a frozen hot dog, half a can of sliced beets, and a few pieces of pizza crust I dug out of the garbage. Not easy items to eat from a dog dish, but Bobo comported himself well. No doubt, he kept in mind the thrashings I delivered when he ate sloppily in the past. Cindy giggled as Bobo munched noisily on the pizza crusts and gnawed away at the hot dog.

"Gee. I guess he'll eat anything." she marveled, looking down at him.

"Anything I give him." I said.

"Which reminds me." I went on, "Bobo will be getting a special dessert this morning."

Bobo stopped eating for a moment, but resumed when I gave him a kick in the ribs.

"Cindy, I know it may sound a bit weird for me to ask, but have you used the toilet yet this morning?"

"Oh... you mean like..." and she leaned over to whisper to me, "you mean a number two?"

""Yep. Exactly." I said, smiling mischievously. Perhaps she knew what I have in mind.

"Well, no. No I haven't. I need to go, though. What's up?"

"Look, I know this is a gnarly kind of request, but could you put a..., what do they call it,... oh, right, a sample into a paper cup for me?"

"You mean," Cindy said, all the while looking down at Bobo, "a piece of my pooh?" she said, turning a gaze to me that sported a cruel and knowing little smile.

I went to the cabinet, got a small paper cup and a piece of plastic wrap.

While Cindy was in the bathroom, I got together, with Bobo's assistance, the ingredients for blueberry muffins. I gave Bobo instructions for buttering the muffin tins and preheating the oven.

Cindy returned with the cup covered in plastic. I looked, and inside was a turd about the size of a cherry tomato.

"Perfect!" I said, taking the cup from her.

"Now I'll go. Take over with Bobo. He can follow a recipe okay. Just monitor him."

When I returned, Bobo was on the floor kissing Cindy's feet.

"I'm sorry, Gretch. He was done, and I thought, what the heck..."

"It's okay. He shouldn't be getting any rewards, but you didn't know. Here, Bobo. Take this, and Ms Cindy's cup and mix it into the batter."

Cindy and I stood close to Bobo as he went about his task. We held our noses and smiled excitedly as he whisked our shit into the mix. It took a moment to get the turds broken down and blended in. Bobo, for his part, was more than excited. His apron was presenting a little hillock in the area of his crotch.

Soon the muffins were baking away, and Bobo was doing the cleanup. We couldn't wait for the moment they were done. Once it had all been mixed together, there was no problem with odor, except that, as the muffins were cooling on the rack, a vague barnyardy smell could be detected mingled in with the other aromas.

Cindy went to the living room where I had arranged a setting for us to sit and for Bobo to kneel before us. Cindy and I would occupy the two arm chairs from the dining room set, and Bobo would kneel on his pillow at a low coffee table a few feet from us.

In the kitchen, I gave Bobo his instructions. The muffins were sacred, I told him.

"You will be eating the excrement of two powerful women, Bobo. Do you understand the honor of this?"

"I do, Ma'am. I want to eat your shit and Ms Cindy's shit. I want it inside me. Thank you for this honor!" Bobo said with heartfelt sincerity. It was quite clear that he wished greatly to eat the shit of the women who had whipped and humiliated him; this was a significant milestone in his development. I ordered Bobo to don his pink kneesocks and await my call.

Cindy and I took our seats, sitting about a foot from each other facing the center of the room. I impressed upon her that, though there was the distinct pleasurable element in watching as Bobo ate our shit, it was also a serious event whereby we would fully establish our supremacy over a male dog. And what finer symbolism than what we were about to see?

I called out to Bobo, and he entered carrying a small basket with two muffins in it. He knelt, placed the muffins on the coffee table, then bowed low till his forehead was on the floor.

"Bobo, tell me and Ms Cindy what you have there." I said.

"Ms Gretchen, Ms Cindy, I have just baked these muffins. They are still warm. They contain small amounts of feces from both of you."

I gave Cindy a look, thereby giving her the floor.

"So, Bobo," she said, "you will be eating these muffins? Is that it?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Bobo replied.

"Hmmm. And they contain my shit?"

"They do, Ms Cindy. And Ms Gretchen's."

"Do you like eating shit, Bobo?"

"I very much want to eat your shit, Ms Cindy." Bobo said, looking sheepish.

"That's very sweet of you, Bobo." Cindy said. "And why? Most men wouldn't do such a thing. Why you?"

I was enjoying this show immensely, let me tell you. Cindy had Bobo under her spell hook, line, and sinker. It was beautiful.

"I guess, Ms Cindy, that I look like a man, and most people would say I was one, but inside, deep inside me, I yearn to be the dog of a strong woman." Bobo said with emotion rising in his voice as he ended.

"And are you?"

"I am Ms Gretchen's dog, Ms Cindy."

"Bobo," I said. "Look at me."

Bobo turned his head and looked into my eyes.

"Bobo, you are my dog. That's true, of course. But I wish for you to be Ms Cindy's dog as well. Will you be a good dog for her?"

"Oh, yes! Oh, yes, Ma'am!"

Come and kiss Ms Cindy's feet."

Bobo scampered to Cindy, his erection swaying between his legs. We looked at it approvingly, exchanging glances and smiles. Bobo bestowed soft kisses to each of Cindy's delicate feet.

"Okay. Now get back." I instructed. "You will purchase a leash for Ms Cindy to use when she walks you. Any special color, Cindy?"

"Let's see..." Cindy pondered. "Pink! to match his socks! Get it for me today, Bobo." she said, clearly relishing, now, her official ownership of her very own male dog.

I instructed Bobo to hold the basket of muffins aloft so that he needed to look upward to see them.

"Repeat after me, Bobo." I said. "As I eat these muffins, I eat the shit of my two women owners. I am their lowlife dog forever."

Bobo solemnly repeated my words.

"Now, Bobo, eat!" I commanded.

He placed the basket respectfully on the table, and lifted one to his mouth. It was the first time I'd seen him eat like a human being in months.

As Bobo chewed slowly, I turned to Cindy.

"We mustn't forget his misdeed of this morning. His contemptible spying."

"Absolutely not!" Cindy rejoined. "May I have the pleasure of getting the belt, my friend?" she queried, a wicked smile on her face.

"By all means, my dear." I replied, enjoying the mock formality of our exchange.

Cindy returned. She faced Bobo, who was licking crumbs from his lips. She held the belt out to him.

"Kiss it." she said, and Bobo complied.

"I know what you were doing this morning round three A.M., little doggie.' she continued, "And now you will get a whipping. How dare you look upon either of us without permission!"

Bobo began to say something, but Cindy was behind him in a flash. I could see that she was savoring the view of Bobo's ass, displaying, as it did, the fresh markings from the whipping he took the night before.

'Keep eating, asshole!" she said with uncharacteristic roughness.

"Keep eating our shit, fuck-up!" she said, then began to lay into him.

I looked on with glowing pride in my acolyte, now my partner in a very woman-affirming venture. In that very moment, I could say without hesitation... Women rule!!"

And Cindy inhabited her role with fierce aggression. For a moment, I was concerned about Bobo receiving blows from the belt on his fresh welts. If they broke, we'd have to bandage him. But, I knew Cindy would protect and preserve her new property, just as anyone would drive carefully in a new car. She let the belt fall on his back with great energy.

She stood back, surveying the condition of Bobo's back and ass. Bobo, for his part, cleaned the last bits of muffin from the basket.

"Thank Ms Cindy for the whipping, and for letting a pathetic man-dog eat her shit." I ordered.

"Ms Cindy. Thank you for whipping me. I'm sorry for what I did. And thank you for allowing me to eat your wonderful shit." Bobo said with a sincerity and fervor that moved me. Cindy seemed pleased with his contrition.

"Let's see," I mused, "Tomorrow, Bobo, how about a nice juicy hamburger with all the trimmings?"