Cris awoke early one morning, feeling extra horny. As the day yawned ahead of him, he found himself drawn to the bathroom, where he stripped off his clothes and stepped into his luscious bathtub. He turned on the shower head, allowing warm water to cascade down his naked body, washing away any remaining remnants of sleep.
Cris' hand reached for the faucet and began to run the water, increasing the flow until it was running at full strength. He watched as the stream of urine shot into the bath, splashing against the sides and creating waves that lapped at his shins. His cock, still half-hard from his morning arousal, jutted out from his body, twitching slightly as he imagined it disappearing into another person's ass.
As the tub filled to capacity, Cris couldn't help but grin. He loved this feeling of power, of knowing that he could clean someone else with his own body fluids. He dipped his fingers in the now-nasty water, bringing them to his lips and tasting the mixture of piss and soap that coated them.
With a nod of satisfaction, he stepped out of the tub, reaching for a handful of Cris's shit from his collection. He smeared it onto the walls of the bath, smearing it in long, thick streaks. The smell of his feces wafted up to him, making his cock twitch again in anticipation.
With one final flourish, Cris jumped back into the filthy bathwater. He sank down until only his neck and shoulders were above the surface, his cock disappearing into the murky depths. He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feeling of warmth and intimacy.
For a moment, he imagined that someone else was in there with him - a slim, graceful figure, their soft skin pressed against his own, their moans of pleasure echoing around the tiled walls.
But soon, the harsh reality sets in. Cris was alone - utterly and completely alone. The loneliness twisted inside him, turning his joy into despair. He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ugly mess that surrounded him.
And then he remembered why he was here. He remembered the rush of power he felt when he made other people dirty. He reached out, grinning, and grabbed a handful of Cris's shit, bringing it up to his mouth. He closed his eyes and let the flavor of it wash over him, savoring the taste of another human being's waste products.
With a newfound burst of energy, Cris began to froth the water, creating a thick, soapy layer that floated on top of the piss and shit. He dunked his head beneath the surface, swallowing mouthfuls of the filthy water, feeling it course through his veins like the darkest form of ecstasy.
And so, Cris continued his bath - running the water full-force, adding more shit and piss to the mix, masturbating furiously until he exploded, his hot cum splashing against the walls of the tub like a sudden thunderstorm. When he finished, he allowed himself a moment of contentment before climbing out, dripping wet and impossibly dirty.
He stepped out of the bath, leaving behind a trail of Cris's shit and piss - a reminder of his dark, taboo pleasure. As he dried off, he couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness return. But he knew that every time he looked at that grimy tub, he would be filled with a strange sense of pride - and an even stranger desire to do it all over again.
