As the evening sun began to set outside, Master Mike sat alone in his luxurious bedroom, lost in thought. His hands idly wandered over the smooth surface of his desk as he contemplated his next move. With a sigh, he rose from his chair and walked over to the mirror that hung on the far wall.
He stood there for a moment, admiring his reflection. His muscular body was clad in nothing but a pair of still-damp boxers that did little to hide his massive erection. With a grin, he reached down and freed himself, allowing his cock to spring up fully before him.
He started to stroke himself gently at first, his eyes closed in concentration. As his rhythm increased, so did his speed; his breathing quickened in response. His hand moved faster and faster, pumping his shaft with increasing force until it was a blur before his eyes.
With a savage cry, Master Mike came hard, half-turning towards the wall to catch his release in mid-air. His hot, thick semen arced across the room, splattering against the walls and ceiling in a dizzying display of orgasmic release.
Panting, he wiped his hand on the front of his boxers and walked over to the bed, collapsing face-first onto the soft pillows. He lay there, catching his breath as he tried to calm his racing heart.
A few minutes later, he dragged himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Standing before the toilet, he unzipped his boxers and pushed them down to his thighs, revealing his now-soft cock and plump balls. He sat down carefully on the cold porcelain seat and started to push, grunting in effort as he felt his poo resisting.
Soon enough, a large, brown turd slid out of his anus and plopped into the water below. He breathed a sigh of relief and continued, grunting with each push as more turds slid out of him. When he was finally empty, he flushed the toilet and stood up, wiping his ass clean with toilet paper before pulling up his boxers once more.
Master Mike felt pleased with himself; it had been a productive few minutes in his bathroom for both pleasure and necessity. With another sigh, he headed towards the bathtub where he had set up special equipment for his next session of filth and fun.
Bubbles frothed up around the edges of the tub as he filled it with warm water, making sure that it was deep enough for what he had planned. Once satisfied, he placed a sterile enema bag on the floor of the tub and connected it to the hose that hung from the wall.
As he worked, his hands betrayed the anticipation coursing through his veins; they trembled slightly with excitement and anticipation. Finally, after tying off the hose and checking everything carefully, he was ready.
He climbed into the tub, the soft foam of the bubbles kissing his skin as he settled in. He tied a band around his arm to hold back the enema bag, then gave it a gentle squeeze. The cool liquid flowed into his body, filling him up quickly.
With one last squeeze, he was full to bursting. He moaned softly as the cold liquid pressed against his bowels, making him feel both uncomfortable and aroused. Slowly, he withdrew the band from his arm, allowing the bag to hang down beside him.
As he waited for the inevitable, he closed his eyes and focused on the sensations building within him - the fullness, the pressure, the heat. It didn't take long; soon enough, his bowels were rumbling, and he could feel the first stirrings of poo forming within him.
He gasped as a surge of diarrhea forced its way past his sphincter, filling the tub with a hot, messy cascade of feces. It continued unabated until the tub was full, and he was sloshing happily in it.
Master Mike sighed contentedly as he sat back and let the filth surround him. He had always enjoyed playing with his own feces; it made him feel dirty and taboo, but strangely excited too. As he settled deeper into the warm mess, he reached down between his legs and started to rub himself once more.
Before long, another load of semen was spurting into the air, hitting the sides of the tub and joining with the mess below. With a smile on his face, Master Mike lowered his legs back into the tub and let the warmth envelop him.
For now, he was content to simply sit in his filth, letting it absorb into his skin. As he looked forward to the coming cleanup, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction and contentment. After all, what could be more fulfilling than playing in one's own filth?
