There is a certain allure to the unconventional, a thrill in the taboo. As I crawl across the floor, gathering every last remnant of the night’s scat play, I cannot help but be overwhelmed by a wave of indescribable emotions.
The texture of the waste, the way it clings to the floor and to my fingers, is both repulsive and oddly soothing. I am reminded of the earthiness of the natural world, the life cycle that we are all a part of.
The taste, too, is a factor that cannot be ignored. It is pungent, yes, but also complex – a mixture of flavors that I have come to crave and anticipate.
And then there are the worms, the slimy, wriggling creatures that add an extra layer of filth to the proceedings. They are both a challenge and a delight to navigate around, a reminder of the wildness that still exists within us all.
As I complete my task, crawling across every inch of the floor, I am left with a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. These are the moments that make life worth living, the moments that push me to my limits and beyond. The memories of these dirty games will stay with me forever, a testament to my own bravery and perversion.