Martinofholland
12-21-2008, 12:19 PM
The pit of truth. By Martin of Holland – based on drawing #207.
http://members.ziggo.nl/martinofholland/i1183006-7.jpg
It will be tonight; the night of the ultimate truth. Each new full member of our club will promise to eat all the shit he can, eat and drink any filth that is offered. He usually does; he has already promised to. But a promise is not a solemn vow, and the ultimate test is to see if he can make that vow.
This one said he might need a little coaching, a little force even. Silly boy. But then we don’t tell them everything, you see. The little coaching and some force are not something you may ask for—you get it, whether you want it or not. There are usually six of us selected to dish it out. We prepare ourselves for this test. We try not to shit for as long as we can.
The new full member has to prepare himself also, mainly mentally that is. But if he’s full of shit, literally, it’s more fun. If he’s not, we’ll see that he will be, during the test. Well, even if he is already, he’ll be fuller still. You might say he will then be a full member.
On a night like this we don’t use the altar, or the dining room or the lounge or the rubber room. In the cellar is this pit that’s been dug out. The bottom is tiled and the walls cemented and painted. It’s only about 1.75 meter square (nearly six feet) and about as high. Your head just comes out at the top. There are no steps. If you can, you jump into it, but usually we let the guy use a ladder to get in—and perhaps out. Well that’s what we tell him, perhaps, but of course we get him out—eventually.
I should describe the pit in more detail. I’d like to show you a picture of it, but the only picture I have was taken during the ceremony. You can see it later. No, don’t look at it now. Ah, well, never mind.
You see there’s a trough at one end, at the top. The trough is actually bolted to a frame and it’s at crotch level for those standing on the side of the pit. There’s a tube, about 10 cm wide, running from the trough down to the floor of the pit, where it has a 90° angle and it runs to about halfway the bottom of the pit. The tube has a telescopic end, which means its length can be adjusted. The end is actually covered in rubber; of course it is, because it goes up the new member’s ass.
On the opposite side of the pit are two toilet bowls. This wall of the pit is higher, so the sitters are in a comfortable position, though they have to bend down a bit more than usual. A rubber tube, about 15 cm in diameter, runs from each toilet bowl, to the middle of the wall, where it is fixed to the wall by a piece of plumbing where the two tubes become one. The piece of plumbing is actually an electrically operated tap. Sometimes the guys on the toilets control it, but usually the master of ceremonies does. He controls what shit goes down—down all the way, into the new member that is.
You may also wonder what the thing between the toilet bowls is. It looks like a switchbox, so what do you think it is. It has two little pumps in it, and a reservoir. Guess what it holds. Sniff it and there you go. You see the tube running from the box and into the member’s nose. It’s best when he wears a mask or a hood with some way of attaching the tube. That goes for the big rubber tube for feeding shit also. But sometimes a new member has no mask on, and he will simply have to keep the tube in his mouth, bite on it—he’d better if he wants to be a full member. Well, you can see the popper dispenser can have another tube attached.
On rare occasions we have two new members in there. We’ve had this picture in a scat magazine some time ago, and we had new members flocking in by the dozen. Then we put the picture behind the bar at one of our more regular scat parties, and the same happened. Most of them never reach this state. All they get to see is our playroom on the first floor. We get about fifty guys there at our monthly meetings and we’re not too strict allowing them in. They just have their shit scene which can be pretty wild, but what we do in our special quarters would be way too wild for most. The club for the chosen few is called Shit Hell, and the one for the larger crowd Shit Heaven. We’ve heard of a purgatory that once existed, but we thought these names were more appropriate since we’re totally committed to shit…
Oh, I should also mention that this pit and its gadgets, and perhaps its use, were an idea of our founder, Martin of Holland. We’re not sure about his exact role in its actual use, because it is so long ago, in the twentieth century. Rumors and reputations always become exaggerated after 200 years, don’t they.
You are correct: those things in each corner at the bottom will hold a new member in place. And that pulley is indeed useful for a variety of things.
Now you know what’s in the picture. Yeah, yeah, I know you knew, but isn’t it convenient, this explanation? You still don’t know what it feels like, down there at the bottom of the pit of truth. I’ll give you some idea. You can’t watch tonight, so let me tell you what happened when we took this picture.
There were six of us, as usual, selected from our group of sixty. The new member has no say in that. He can’t see very much anyway, for we put a rubber mask over his head right away. There’s red glass in the opening for the eyes, so he sees everything in a dim red light, just enough to make out shapes. This is one of the masks to which you can attach those tubes. He is helped into the pit and his wrists and ankles are strapped to each corner. We just leave him there for a bit. We have a few drinks, probe our own assholes to see if there’s enough in there. Two of us had very soft shit, which would be fun. We normally shit into the toilet bowls, but when it’s soft shit we might as well shit in the trough, let it run down, and it will fill the guy up nicely, even more so than the piss.
But even with just piss running down the tube into the guy’s asshole, it usually fills him up quickly. Seeing the guy lying there, his belly getting bigger is really hot. Some will spill and he’s lying in a puddle of piss.
We put a chain round his balls, and every time he seems to lose attention we just give it a twist. He has the rubber tube attached to the hood and he can’t speak. We just told him what hand signals he may use.
Stretching out all fingers means he needs a break. Twiddling all fingers means he can take more, and twiddling his index finger means he wants more poppers. There is no signal for stop. We decide when it’s over.
With his gut nice and round and bloated already we just take piss turns into the trough. Then the first two sit down on the toilet bowls and what has been saved up for two days comes sliding out, nice and slow, fat and smelly. The valve in that plumbing thing is open so he can smell it too.
The first portion is sucked into the tubing and pumped up the lower tube. It’s often a little too much too sudden for most, so usually we’ll pump smaller chunks down, one at a time. This time the guy has been boasting, and nearly half the combined shit is forced down the lower tube, into his gullet. We expect to see him spread his fingers, but instead he clenches his fist. That is not an approved hand signal.
We give him some time to swallow before the rest of the shit is pumped down. He’s doing well, just moving his index finger.
Two others now take position on the toilet bowls, and after that the remaining two will see if they still have some of that soft shit inside them.
By that time the guy has only stretched out his fingers once and he is given a short break. But no sooner has the shit of the second crew started coming down and the guy is moving all his fingers. More, he is beckoning. Good for him those two guys are really full. Still, we don’t pump it into him all at once. We want to hear him swallow inside that mask, and see his belly filling up. Turns out he can hardly take any more now. The guys who had the runny shit are almost empty anyway, and all their soft shit has gone up the guy’s ass. It will be difficult for him to hold it in once we release him, but he must.
He’s been in the pit for over an hour now and we decided he did very well. We tell him he’s been accepted as a full member. He just has one more duty to perform. He has to show the average scat guys upstairs what it’s like, this initiation and how good he feels. It gets us lots of new members. So we take him to Shit Heaven and tell him to stand on a table.
Soon the crowd gathers all around him, knowing he has a thing or two to offer. A couple of guys are nearly fighting over who will be underneath his ass. They know it’s going to be messy and sloppy, and there’s probably enough to please a dozen guys. They know those new members try not to have a shit before, even if they’re going to be filled up with piss or repacked with shit.
I don’t know if the guys fighting over his ass contents are the lucky ones, or the ones standing at the other end of the table. “Puke it all up!” they are shouting. It doesn’t take long for them to get their share.
Later that night five guys said they wanted to qualify for full membership. I think we’ll have two in the pit next weekend, and another two the week after that. Maybe one day we’ll have you there. Unless you want to stay in Shit Heaven. But Shit Hell is the real thing!
*** © 2005 Martin of Holland ***
(My first attempt at uploading a story here...)
http://members.ziggo.nl/martinofholland/i1183006-7.jpg
It will be tonight; the night of the ultimate truth. Each new full member of our club will promise to eat all the shit he can, eat and drink any filth that is offered. He usually does; he has already promised to. But a promise is not a solemn vow, and the ultimate test is to see if he can make that vow.
This one said he might need a little coaching, a little force even. Silly boy. But then we don’t tell them everything, you see. The little coaching and some force are not something you may ask for—you get it, whether you want it or not. There are usually six of us selected to dish it out. We prepare ourselves for this test. We try not to shit for as long as we can.
The new full member has to prepare himself also, mainly mentally that is. But if he’s full of shit, literally, it’s more fun. If he’s not, we’ll see that he will be, during the test. Well, even if he is already, he’ll be fuller still. You might say he will then be a full member.
On a night like this we don’t use the altar, or the dining room or the lounge or the rubber room. In the cellar is this pit that’s been dug out. The bottom is tiled and the walls cemented and painted. It’s only about 1.75 meter square (nearly six feet) and about as high. Your head just comes out at the top. There are no steps. If you can, you jump into it, but usually we let the guy use a ladder to get in—and perhaps out. Well that’s what we tell him, perhaps, but of course we get him out—eventually.
I should describe the pit in more detail. I’d like to show you a picture of it, but the only picture I have was taken during the ceremony. You can see it later. No, don’t look at it now. Ah, well, never mind.
You see there’s a trough at one end, at the top. The trough is actually bolted to a frame and it’s at crotch level for those standing on the side of the pit. There’s a tube, about 10 cm wide, running from the trough down to the floor of the pit, where it has a 90° angle and it runs to about halfway the bottom of the pit. The tube has a telescopic end, which means its length can be adjusted. The end is actually covered in rubber; of course it is, because it goes up the new member’s ass.
On the opposite side of the pit are two toilet bowls. This wall of the pit is higher, so the sitters are in a comfortable position, though they have to bend down a bit more than usual. A rubber tube, about 15 cm in diameter, runs from each toilet bowl, to the middle of the wall, where it is fixed to the wall by a piece of plumbing where the two tubes become one. The piece of plumbing is actually an electrically operated tap. Sometimes the guys on the toilets control it, but usually the master of ceremonies does. He controls what shit goes down—down all the way, into the new member that is.
You may also wonder what the thing between the toilet bowls is. It looks like a switchbox, so what do you think it is. It has two little pumps in it, and a reservoir. Guess what it holds. Sniff it and there you go. You see the tube running from the box and into the member’s nose. It’s best when he wears a mask or a hood with some way of attaching the tube. That goes for the big rubber tube for feeding shit also. But sometimes a new member has no mask on, and he will simply have to keep the tube in his mouth, bite on it—he’d better if he wants to be a full member. Well, you can see the popper dispenser can have another tube attached.
On rare occasions we have two new members in there. We’ve had this picture in a scat magazine some time ago, and we had new members flocking in by the dozen. Then we put the picture behind the bar at one of our more regular scat parties, and the same happened. Most of them never reach this state. All they get to see is our playroom on the first floor. We get about fifty guys there at our monthly meetings and we’re not too strict allowing them in. They just have their shit scene which can be pretty wild, but what we do in our special quarters would be way too wild for most. The club for the chosen few is called Shit Hell, and the one for the larger crowd Shit Heaven. We’ve heard of a purgatory that once existed, but we thought these names were more appropriate since we’re totally committed to shit…
Oh, I should also mention that this pit and its gadgets, and perhaps its use, were an idea of our founder, Martin of Holland. We’re not sure about his exact role in its actual use, because it is so long ago, in the twentieth century. Rumors and reputations always become exaggerated after 200 years, don’t they.
You are correct: those things in each corner at the bottom will hold a new member in place. And that pulley is indeed useful for a variety of things.
Now you know what’s in the picture. Yeah, yeah, I know you knew, but isn’t it convenient, this explanation? You still don’t know what it feels like, down there at the bottom of the pit of truth. I’ll give you some idea. You can’t watch tonight, so let me tell you what happened when we took this picture.
There were six of us, as usual, selected from our group of sixty. The new member has no say in that. He can’t see very much anyway, for we put a rubber mask over his head right away. There’s red glass in the opening for the eyes, so he sees everything in a dim red light, just enough to make out shapes. This is one of the masks to which you can attach those tubes. He is helped into the pit and his wrists and ankles are strapped to each corner. We just leave him there for a bit. We have a few drinks, probe our own assholes to see if there’s enough in there. Two of us had very soft shit, which would be fun. We normally shit into the toilet bowls, but when it’s soft shit we might as well shit in the trough, let it run down, and it will fill the guy up nicely, even more so than the piss.
But even with just piss running down the tube into the guy’s asshole, it usually fills him up quickly. Seeing the guy lying there, his belly getting bigger is really hot. Some will spill and he’s lying in a puddle of piss.
We put a chain round his balls, and every time he seems to lose attention we just give it a twist. He has the rubber tube attached to the hood and he can’t speak. We just told him what hand signals he may use.
Stretching out all fingers means he needs a break. Twiddling all fingers means he can take more, and twiddling his index finger means he wants more poppers. There is no signal for stop. We decide when it’s over.
With his gut nice and round and bloated already we just take piss turns into the trough. Then the first two sit down on the toilet bowls and what has been saved up for two days comes sliding out, nice and slow, fat and smelly. The valve in that plumbing thing is open so he can smell it too.
The first portion is sucked into the tubing and pumped up the lower tube. It’s often a little too much too sudden for most, so usually we’ll pump smaller chunks down, one at a time. This time the guy has been boasting, and nearly half the combined shit is forced down the lower tube, into his gullet. We expect to see him spread his fingers, but instead he clenches his fist. That is not an approved hand signal.
We give him some time to swallow before the rest of the shit is pumped down. He’s doing well, just moving his index finger.
Two others now take position on the toilet bowls, and after that the remaining two will see if they still have some of that soft shit inside them.
By that time the guy has only stretched out his fingers once and he is given a short break. But no sooner has the shit of the second crew started coming down and the guy is moving all his fingers. More, he is beckoning. Good for him those two guys are really full. Still, we don’t pump it into him all at once. We want to hear him swallow inside that mask, and see his belly filling up. Turns out he can hardly take any more now. The guys who had the runny shit are almost empty anyway, and all their soft shit has gone up the guy’s ass. It will be difficult for him to hold it in once we release him, but he must.
He’s been in the pit for over an hour now and we decided he did very well. We tell him he’s been accepted as a full member. He just has one more duty to perform. He has to show the average scat guys upstairs what it’s like, this initiation and how good he feels. It gets us lots of new members. So we take him to Shit Heaven and tell him to stand on a table.
Soon the crowd gathers all around him, knowing he has a thing or two to offer. A couple of guys are nearly fighting over who will be underneath his ass. They know it’s going to be messy and sloppy, and there’s probably enough to please a dozen guys. They know those new members try not to have a shit before, even if they’re going to be filled up with piss or repacked with shit.
I don’t know if the guys fighting over his ass contents are the lucky ones, or the ones standing at the other end of the table. “Puke it all up!” they are shouting. It doesn’t take long for them to get their share.
Later that night five guys said they wanted to qualify for full membership. I think we’ll have two in the pit next weekend, and another two the week after that. Maybe one day we’ll have you there. Unless you want to stay in Shit Heaven. But Shit Hell is the real thing!
*** © 2005 Martin of Holland ***
(My first attempt at uploading a story here...)