Using his phone, Mizari snapped two digital photographs in the big mirror above the wash basins and sent them directly to his blog. “FEARIIINU,” the entry was entitled, because he was all got up as a marvellous black fairy, wearing a black dress with violet trimmings whose ruffled skirt, propped up by a fluffy petticoat, ended just above the knees. He also had on a pair of purple thigh-high boots of patent leather with thick, high platform heels; and his long scarlet layered hair was straightened and done up in two flowing bunches, except for the blunted arrowhead of a fringe which just covered his brow, and the several loose strands at either side of that which spilled little beyond his delicate jaw.
His band, Megaromania, was on indefinite hiatus, but that didn't stop him dressing up and going out to eat alone—though his savings were quickly dwindling and he thought he might soon take up one of those job offers from the host clubs to fund these hobbies. All one had to do was be cute like faerinu and keep some lonely ladies company!
Suddenly he remembered that he had come into the public bathroom of this McDonald's to take a piss, and not just to photograph himself. He flew into one of the stalls and made sure to bolt the green metal door behind him; then he wrestled his petticoat down to his knees and folded his skirt under the tight waist of the dress before sitting on the porcelain throne. It was fortunate, he thought as he loosed hot streams beneath him, that every McDonald's seemed to be equipped with the western sit-toilets rather than the awful and embarrassing squat ones that still prevailed throughout Japan.
When the sound of the little cataract finally let up, he heard footsteps and mumbling of men outside his stall. Hearing men outside his stall always made him extremely nervous since an unfortunate encounter in Osaka—but this McDonald's was in homely and sane Tokyo; and anyway, such an encounter in just such a setting has never recurred. He had nothing to fear, he assured himself as he rose from his seat and set his clothing all aright. After the noise of the toilet flushing subsided, he heard someone assailing an urinal outside with a thick, high-pressure stream.
Finally he worked up the courage to leave his stall; and to his surprise, there was Setsuna with long, straight black hair tied up in bunches to meet him. He was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit and a pair of geta, and had a small towel tied around his hips. The man at the urinal could not yet be identified—he was shorter than Setsuna, but not as short as Mizari (few people were).
“What a coincidence,” said Mizari, feeling obligated to be sociable with this old ex-bandmate of his. “I haven't seen you in a long time, Setsuna. Were you at some pool party nearby?”
Setsuna looked puzzled. “Pool party?... Oh, you must be confused by what I'm wearing. Frankly—and this is a little embarrassing—my new boyfriend told me to accompany him to this place, wearing this.”
Instantly Mizari felt his face flush; he wanted to leave with as few further words as possible. Then he noticed that the man at the urinal had, since Mizari started talking, been merely standing there and not actually urinating. Probably, he'd been listening. Was he Setsuna's boyfriend? This man of modest height with his back turned towards Mizari, wearing a grey business suit and long, brown hair?
Then the man turned, and Mizari could have sworn his heart skipped a beat, for that man was none other than Boye! He wore no makeup this time, but his stare was frightening as ever. He said: “Is this ever a pleasant surprise—Setsuna, hold him!”
Untying his towel in one smooth motion to reveal the fat bulge of his prick which reached nearly to his thin waist under the front of the swimsuit, Setsuna took only a second to act on the command, lunging at Mizari and seizing him as his slow little thoughts remained on the sight of the bulge. When Mizari was just about to scream, Setsuna ran the rolled up towel across his open mouth, and proceeded to tie its ends at the back of his head, gagging him. Stinking traitor! Mizari wanted to shout. Boye knelt before him and licked his eye, reminding him of their previous encounter.
“It's a lot dryer than I like,” said he, licking his lips. “Your being here has foiled my plans for the day, so that I have to make new plans, and poor Setsuna has to wait for his treat. This being the case, Setsuna gets to make your tears flow.”
“How am I going to do that?” asked Setsuna, squeezing Mizari's upper arms and chest from behind. “I really don't want to hurt my old friend.”
“You won't—he'll like it! But he'll still cry about it. Can you slip into his bum?”
“Since we are in this position, I don't see why not! I've always wanted to.”
Upon hearing this, Mizari moaned a lame protest. Setsuna's enormous organ had spilled out of the swimsuit and was now poking at Mizari's fluffy underskirt; it was not long in finding his bare buttocks. “He's wearing a thong,” said Setsuna; “this will be easy.” And the member slipped in under the elastic strap; soon, it prodded at Mizari's puckered arsehole. “I can't get in!”
“Keep pushing!” said Boye. “His obstinate little sphincter always gives in due time.”
Boye had thrown off his dull trousers, and now pulled aside the front of the black fundoshi he wore as underwear to loose his own monstrous erection; he began rubbing it on Mizari's cheeks as Setsuna succeeded in getting his through Mizari's back-door. Mizari yelped through his nose at the pain of such a forcible entry, but he wasn't shedding any tears yet.
A little while and Boye appeared to have grown bored with using his organ to smack Mizari's face, and went to the back. Mizari guessed, from the sounds, and the increased pressure and clumsiness of Setsuna inside him, that Boye had set Setsuna's rear on his cock. It was possible that Setsuna no longer even moved his hips of his own accord, Boye was so strong. The three of them fucked like that, Setsuna hugging Mizari onto his prick while sitting on Boye's, for several minutes; then Setsuna was the first to spend, injecting Mizari with a great volume of sperm so that he could feel it squirting out his rim when Setsuna continued to thrust—Boye still fucking him.
“You're having a bowel movement all over my penis!” Boye complained.
“Sorry! I didn't know the brown rice would do that to me. Shall I remove myself and wash you?”
“No, this is good. I'm about to come.” And in a moment, Boye did come, as evidenced by Setsuna's quivering little moans.
The three disentangled slowly, Mizari ending up lying on his side upon the tiled floor, too weak to escape as fast as he'd need to if he dared try. “Look,” Setsuna was talking to Boye, “he got some on my penis, too!”
“We need a bidet. Does this bathroom have any functioning bidets?”
“I didn't see any—it is an American establishment....”
“Untie Mizari-chan's head,” said Boye affectionately, unlike the rapist he was. “I must examine those lips again.”
Setsuna went about untying the towel at the back of Mizari's head, freeing up his mouth. What was their game? the redhead demanded silently, as though he were still gagged. Boye squatted and lifted Mizari's torso under the arms, to get a good look at his face—from this position Mizari could see he was still erect, or erect again, and that his formidable penis was caked with caca. He put his thumb on Mizari's lips, squishing them, pushing them about and eventually pinching and pulling. The ridiculous idea came into Mizari's head that maybe he wanted to take his lips for a trophy, and at that thought his mascara and eyeliner finally started running.
“They're so wide, fat and slippery smooth,” said Boye with something like awe. “This is a Grade A bidet!”
Setsuna laughed, perhaps not knowing that Boye seriously intended to use Mizari as a bidet; Mizari knew.
“Help me install him somewhere—here, hold him for a bit.” Boye handed Mizari over to Setsuna, who had somewhat of a stunned expression, but was not the least bit sympathetic to Mizari's silent pleas. Soon Boye had retrieved a length of red nylon cord from his trousers which were on the floor. He motioned Setsuna, with Mizari, into one of the stalls, and followed.
“Set him down here, with his arms and legs around the base of the toilet,” said Boye, who helped Setsuna in effecting this. Then Boye, taking one end of his rope, tied Mizari's left wrist and ankle to each other behind the toilet; and with some of the remaining length, did the same to Mizari's right wrist and ankle, with rougher handling. What little length of the cord remained after Mizari was bound up in a total embrace of the porcelain throne, was simply wrapped around the taut length between his left and right limbs.
“Bidet installed!” Boye proclaimed with mock pride. “All of that hard work has made me limp. Maybe a good cleaning will excite me.”
“I need to be cleaned on both sides,” said Setsuna.
“You wait your turn!”
Mizari was positioned so that his entire face rose just above the front of the toilet seat. When Boye sat, spread-legged, on the toilet, his shitty cock, although still limp, squished against Mizari's chin. “Get to work, Bide-ri! You are the cutest bidet in the world; stick out your tongue!” demanded Boye. Mizari felt strange about his mix of name-calling and praise—not the least good, but strange. Boye had to give his head a little smack before he would even open his mouth; and cautiously, reminding himself that his life could be at stake, he parted his voluptuous lips and gave the rancid-smelling organ a little taste.
Shit did not actually taste bad like it smelled—though the grainy texture of it was repulsive in itself, and Mizari could not help gagging with just this little taste. A little tug at one of his bunches of treasured hair brought his tongue to work in earnest, as if he actually enjoyed the taste. Boye's filthy organ quickly inflated again—it was ridiculous, how fast it got stiff! And soon Mizari had it, and its coating of shit, near to the very back of his throat. And he sucked, and Boye started thrusting his hips, which made Mizari gag again—he nearly vomited.
“You'd better swallow,” said Boye, referring to the faecal matter that dislodged in Mizari's mouth. Mizari tried to swallow, but was having difficulty until Boye ejaculated; then he swallowed everything in a few gulps, and his vision became blurry with tears. Boye squished Mizari's cheeks with his palms as he slowly pulled his cock out.
“He is a much better bidet than I thought he'd be,” said Boye. “Look, I'm spotless!”
Setsuna looked. “Well, get off please! I want to try it now.”
Throwing one leg over Mizari's head, Boye removed himself from the toilet seat—from Mizari—and exited the stall, keeping a close watch and stroking himself as Setsuna took his place inside. Setsuna sat down backwards, hugging the tank of the toilet; the back of his swimsuit was pulled aside, and his arse was smeared with a lot of the stuff that was on Boye's penis. “Clean me,” Setsuna ordered.
Boye must have thought Mizari hesitated too long, for he pulled one of his bunches from behind and wrapped it around his cock, stroking with it. This of course continued when Mizari did begin to lap at Setsuna's dirty bum, but it might have been gentler than before. Mizari licked the buttocks clean before tackling the fissure and anus between them, where most of the chocolate had accumulated. Yes, Mizari thought of it as chocolate now, ignoring the smell and imagining its taste as that of a bland and low-quality sort of chocolate. His tongue and lips ran up and down, scooping, sucking at it, and soon it had vanished down his gullet.
“He did a really good job on your arse, too,” said Boye, breathing excitedly. “Now turn around so he can clean your pretty cock.”
“I have a better idea.” Setsuna lifted his rear and pushed his slightly filthy cock back between his thighs, guiding it through Mizari's ready lips. “He can clean my like that, while you fuck my squeaky clean hole.”
And in an instant, Boye was standing over Mizari's head, shoving his meat inside Setsuna. The ensuing motions made Mizari have to strain slightly to clean all of Setsuna's cock; and when Setsuna came, all of it got on Mizari's face and none in his mouth. Then Mizari could do nothing but look up and watch the fucking. After a while, he saw the base of Boye's cock spasm, whereafter Boye pulled out of Setsuna's arsehole and drivelled more semen on Mizari's face.
“Oh, my guts don't feel good!” Setsuna suddenly whined.
Mizari saw the little arsehole above him quiver; then came a ball of semi-solid poop, which fortunately landed in the toilet bowl; the second one was so fast that Mizari didn't see it until it had bounced off his forehead. There did not seem to be any more.
“I think we have to clean that part of the bidet,” said Boye, having seen this. “Climb off now; we'll cross streams over him, and I'll be sure to get some on you, like we had planned for our date.”
Setsuna removed himself immediately, standing up beside Boye, who was now behind Mizari. Mizari could see neither of the men, but he could sense their presences on the opposite ends of the two hot piss streams which proceeded to assail his hair and ears and neck and everything he was wearing. “Thank you so much for today,” said Setsuna; “this has been the most exciting day of my life—and definitely the best romantic outing I've ever had and probably ever will have.” And Mizari was fairly certain that he and Boye kissed then, even as they pissed on him, but he could not be sure from where and how he was tied down.
A little later, they had emptied their bladders, and Boye said: “We should come here for this particular bidet every day. I hope no bastard comes and steals it while we're out.” At that, they picked up their things—except the nylon cord—and turned out the lights as they exited the public bathroom.
Mizari wondered how frequently people used these facilities for anything other than depraved acts of perversion, and sobbed weakly until he fell asleep.