The Permanent, Objectified Human Toilet.

Mar 2, 2013
97
11
6
Australia
#1
*Opening note: This is a completely fictional story. Shouldn't really need to be said, but it does. Any character here that resembles a real-life person is coincidental. What this story will contain is scat (of course) as well as some foot fetishism (I aim to keep that light, as not everyone is into it).

Something that needs to be mentioned here, is this story has a rather large inspiration. I'm sure at least some of you are familiar with an extreme fetish writer that goes by the name "HungryGuy". His story, "The Mindy Machine", has greatly influenced my writing of this one, though here the genders are switched around and the story is told from the toilet's point of view.

First chapter isn't graphic nor is it lengthy. It just sets the scene. It will get intense later on. How often I update will depend on how often I'm horny, I'm afraid. I can't write this stuff unless I'm really in the mood (which is very regular!)

Hope you enjoy it. Cheers!* :cool:

Prelude

Darkness. Cold. A foul taste lingering in my mouth. An ache in my stomach. This is my fate, my life. Beneath the bathroom floor of the woman I submitted my existence to. I don't know how long I have been here. Weeks, months.. years? I know not. A long time, at least. My name is Kaleb and I'm 21 years old, or at least I was when I was put down here. It was consented, you know. I chose this fate. Do I regret it? Well, let me recount to you my tale, and then I shall answer. Once you understand.

Chapter I

An unknown length of time earlier...
"Think hard, Kaleb" advised Mikayla, "This is permanent, after all. Once you sign that paper, there is no going back!". We sat at the kitchen table. I stared at the sheet of paper sitting ominously before me. Of course, it wasn't a legally recognised document, but it didn't need to be. This was a private matter. I sat for awhile, thinking. Mikayla got up after awhile to make herself a coffee. I observed her. She was 20. She had long, dark brown hair and equally brown eyes. She wore a blue transparent top, revealing the outlines of a black singlet beneath it, and tight black yoga pants. Her white skin was quite pale and she had a killer smile that was both beautiful and at the same time mocking. She was my first crush, the very first girl I came to admire. I very rarely spoke to her during most of my life, I never had the courage to. I always dreamed of being with her, now I could, in my own way. I would never have guessed it would finally lead to this.

Several weeks prior, my immediate family and my best friend was killed in a car accident. By some strange twist of fate, I survived without difficulty. I had lost the will to live. I wanted to die. I originally planned to do it by a noose, the old fashioned way. But something changed in me, I wanted to live out a fantasy of mine. It was, in and of itself, a death sentence, so I was still getting what I set out to do, though it is much delayed. Sexually, I had always been extremely varied. I had always been into female domination, superiority, degradation. Such things. Eventually, I developed the ultimate fantasy. To serve a woman as a human toilet... permanently. A fixed, utterly objectified toilet with flesh and blood instead of plastic and ceramic. I developed this scenario after reading an online fetish story, where a girl was installed as part of a permanent toilet machine by a guy. I often fantasied about being in the same position as that girl, but with the gender difference. Permanent, objectified human toilet - It was the ultimate degradation, there is nothing lower than that. But it is also a death sentence. It was perfect for me at this point. I convinced myself, this is what I wanted. But who would take me in as their toilet? The last person I would have imagined: Mikayla, of course. I spoke with her after the funerals. We talked for awhile, I told her of my plans. I have no idea how I summoned the nerve to tell her, or why, but I did. And it proved fortunate. She agreed to it. She told me she'd get one of her friends around to start the work. Well, to cut a long story short, I sold off all my provisions, everything I owned, to help fund the building. It took several weeks, but now, finally, it was almost complete. Now, Mikayla just wanted me to sign this paper, to ensure her I was still fully committed to this. I admit, I had another hesitation, but that passed.

My eyes gazed from the paper back to Mikayla. She was still making her coffee. I could hear the water pour from the kettle and into a cup. I lowered my view slowly down her back, across her arse and those cute yoga pants to her bare feet. Her left foot was flat on the ground. Her right, however, was stood vertical behind it, toes bent along the floor with the sole extending upwards, giving me a clear view from ball to heel. I felt my dick move a little. Being a human toilet was my dream at this point, a dream which would soon become a reality, but feet were my first kink. My introduction to everything else. As I stared at her sole, browned from walking barefoot all day, I felt a chill run down my spine. I smiled, and immediately signed the paper.
 
Mar 2, 2013
97
11
6
Australia
#3
That's for sure the greatest FIRST POST ever !!! Welcome, Sadvarant, and please keep the story going! It's already a big thrill !
Hey, cheers man, and thanks for the welcome!

I've been toying with the idea of putting something up on here for months now, but have always held back. You know, due to embarrassment and such. But today, I just thought 'fuck it' and decided to up something.

I'll definitely see it through to completion. Often I've read such things online only to find out it had been abandoned halfway through. I aspire to not repeat that.

Thanks again.
 
Mar 2, 2013
97
11
6
Australia
#5
*note: during conversation, I'll have Kaleb's speech in blue, Mikayla's in red. Just to ensure nothing is lost in the dialogue. Let me know if this is distracting and I'll refrain from doing it in the future.

Additionally, I do aim to make the chapters a little longer when the more graphic stuff starts happening. Admittedly, I find it difficult to make a scene long, yet interesting at the same time (so as not to drag it out). We'll see. Any feedback can certainly help there. Cheers*

Chapter 2
Mikayla bared her teeth into that wicked smile of hers. She seemed amused, perhaps even happy, or she may have been scorning me, deeming me pathetic. With her smile, it was often hard to tell. At any rate, she relaxed in her chair, raised her feet up on the table, crossed her ankles over each other and began sipping her coffee. We both sat for awhile, neither saying anything. The only sound was the slurp of her drink. I took my eyes off her feet and watched her, as she once again raised the mug to her mouth and consumed another mouthful. I contemplated. That very coffee would soon be transformed into her urine, which, after tomorrow, will become my primary source of liquid for the rest of my life. I'd be forced to consume it on a daily basis, whether I enjoyed it or not. She took another mouthful. A slurp resounded. I watched a bulge appear and slide down her neck. I traced my gaze down past her breasts to her belly, imagining the coffee on the inside sliding down into her stomach, where that transformation would begin. The transformation into the golden nectar - the salty yellow wine of a goddess. Yeah, there are many women on the internet who claim that term as their own. Mikayla.. she didn't claim it, she fucking owned it. She was a goddess to me, in every sense of the word. She finished her coffee, got up and placed her mug into the sink. She turned around and beckoned me to stand. I obeyed, and made a hasty and poorly covered attempt at hiding my erection. She looked down at my crotch for a brief moment before shrugging and walking past me.
"Come, I'll show you your new home" she said softly as she paced by.

I followed her down a narrow hallway and into the bathroom. It was fairly small. Cozy, even. The sink was on the left by the door, the ceramic toilet was by the far wall on the right. Next to the toilet, on the right by the door was a small, built-in shower with a glass door. A small section of the tiled floor in front of the toilet had been removed and a square hole was in its place. I peered down inside and could see what looked to be a blanket laid down on the cold floor. The hole continued in a rectangular form beneath the toilet and the left wall, though the bathroom light did not shine in those crevices. I estimated the hole to be around half a metre deep, perhaps. I'm not good at estimating measurements, but the hole could easily fit a man such as myself along the bottom and have plenty of room for the floor to be built back around the exposed hole, sealing it once more. I turned my gaze to the toilet, lifted the lid and peered down into the bowl. As I expected, there was no water. It was no longer a flush toilet, though it looked like one. The tank, of course, was empty of water, and was kept solely as decoration and as a back rest. The siphon, where the water would usually be flushed through, had been cut out and instead the bowl ended at the bottom with a customised funnel, which was in turn connected to a small pipe that didn't curve, or lead to any other drains, but ran vertical - straight down. I knew where that pipe would, in time, lead. It was simple, any waste would slide down the funnel and drop through the vertical pipe, into the real toilet below. If it were absolutely necessary, a small bucket of water could be splashed down onto the bowl to wash away any waste that remained clung and steadfast. Whoever it was that Mikayla had working on this sure knew his stuff.

Just then, I heard the patter of soft soles on the tiles, and turned around. I was so engrossed in studying the toilet and the hole, that I wasn't aware Mikayla had briefly left and was now returning. She had a flashlight in her hand, and passed it to me. With a nod of her head, she indicated for me to climb down into the hole and take a look. I did so. I knelt down into the hole, leveled my head toward the floor, turned on the light and looked down the toilet side of the hole first. Sure enough, there was the pipe from the toilet above. The pipe's end was hanging motionlessly a short way off the floor. A pillow was laid beneath it. I turned around and flashed my light down the opposite end. It was mostly just space for my legs to rest. The blanket ran the entire length of the hole. At least there would be some comfort. I then saw a small circle hole cut into the blanket almost in the middle and shone my light down it to investigate. It was another pipe. I assumed this is where my waste would be disposed of. Like a real toilet, I would receive and consume the waste and pass it on to the sewerage below. A small pipe came out of the right wall, again around the middle. At the end of this small pipe was a a strap and lock. I assumed my dick would be placed inside this pipe for urine disposal. It was definitely a professional setup.

I switched off the light and scrambled out of the hole to my knees. My eyes immediately met Mikayla's toes, freshly polished red, right in front of me. So close I could kiss them. I decided to act upon better judgement and instead looked up and met her gaze. Her eyes were narrowed, and her teeth were hidden behind a closed, mocking smile. Her hands were placed on the sides of her hips. From upon my knees, she made an imposing, but no less beautiful, figure.
"So how does it look?" she asked with a calm voice.
"It's very well done. Whoever did it is a real professional." I replied, still responding to her gaze directly. Those eyes...
"Yeah, he is. Quite expensive too, so I'm glad all the shit you sold was enough to satisfy him. He'll be around tomorrow to finish the job. Then your home will be complete, and you'll live happily ever after. Isn't that right?" she raised her brows, and changed her smile so as to bare the teeth once more.
"That sounds about right. Yes. I.. uh.." I looked quickly away at the sink.
"Are you nervous, Kaleb?"
"Well.. I want this Mikayla. I really do. But.. yes, I am nervous."
"Sure. Like when a guy finally loses his virginity. He wants it, but is nervous at the same time."
"Exactly like that, Mikayla"
"Look at me" I shifted my eyes from the sink and back at hers. "Are you sure you want this? This isn't just some fucking fantasy. This is the rest of your life. You signed the paper, but that means sweet fuck all. I'm going to strap you in tonight, before I go to bed. The guy will come around early tomorrow to finish the job. He'll cover this hole up, and you'll never be seen by anyone ever again. Even I will promptly forget you existed. You'll be forced to consume everything that goes through that" she pointed toward the toilet " everything. Piss, shit and spit. Vomit after a night of drinking and partying. The shavings from my legs, arms, pubes and everything else. My nail clippings. Snotty tissues during colds. Hell, even the fucking crap that comes out of my vagina during that time of month. All of it. That goes for me, and any of my girlfriends that may be staying over. Are you sure you want that? I mean really fucking sure? As I said, the paper means sweet fuck all. Until I strap you in tonight, you are free to leave my door and never return. I suggest you have a long think about it. As I said, once you're in, you're never coming out again, and with any luck, you'll be down there for years. Perhaps even decades. You understand that fully, right?" I broke eye contact once more. My heart was thumping, almost exploding. I both loved and hated this moment.
"Mikayla, I.."
"You love saying my name, don't you?"
"Yes. It's.. beautiful. Like everything about you." I suppressed my hearts conflict and looked up at her again. "Everything. All of it. Even the crap during the time of month. I want this. My heart is telling me no, but my brain - it says yes. I know it's pathetic. I know I'm disgusting. I'm hopeless. I understand that, I do. But I want this. I really fucking want this, Mikayla." She looked down at me, no longer with scorn, or arrogance or even pity. She looked more curious than anything.
"Very well" she said after a long pause. "As I said. Until I put you into your home, you're free to leave. Otherwise, remain by me until I wish to retire for the night. Okay?"
"Yes."
"And Kaleb?"
"Yes, Mikayla?"
"Tomorrow, and forever after, you're a toilet. You're an object to be used. No longer a human being, at least not to me and the rest of the world. But for the next few hours, you are still human. You worship me, yes?"
"Of course. You're a goddess to me."
"Ha, I see. Well then, as a goddess, you shall be my slave until your, how do you say? Promotion? Maybe even evolution? Ha, no matter the term, you understand. Now, how does a slave show obedience and respect to a goddess?" I could have sworn she winked at me slightly when she said this, though it could have been wishful thinking. I knew the answer to her question regardless, as did my dick. It had been hard the entire time, but now its stiffness made Egyptian statues seem flabby in comparison. I bent down, and kissed her feet. I ran my lips over the tops of her toes, kissing every one. Was this a mercy she was giving me tonight? A final mercy in my life before my fate is set? I thanked her with more kisses. I swore I heard her sigh, ever so slightly, but it may have been wishful thinking. Perhaps...
 
Oct 22, 2009
448
2
18
Fort Worth, Texas
#10
Hey, cheers man, and thanks for the welcome!

I've been toying with the idea of putting something up on here for months now, but have always held back. You know, due to embarrassment and such. But today, I just thought 'fuck it' and decided to up something.

I'll definitely see it through to completion. Often I've read such things online only to find out it had been abandoned halfway through. I aspire to not repeat that.

Thanks again.
Never be embarrassed. We are all in this together
 

equidum

Active Member
Aug 17, 2002
1,039
1
36
75
Paris, France
Visit site
#12
Trying to imagine what will happen to the food ingested by a Superior, how and when it will be transformed, by Her intimate alchimy, into the sole food and drink of Her toilet-slave, is a basic question, haunting the minds, I believe, of all toilet-slaves, both real and to be ... Likewise, I suppose all toilet-slaves' users keep wondering about the taste of their food, at the other end of their digestive tracts .... :) But they care less, I believe!

That being said, I have one regret : Your toilet, if I understand correctly, won't allow tongue-cleaning of the user's ass after defecation ... A pity because I believe it is the best benefit of having a toilet-slave. If Mikayla had owned a toilet-slave before, She probably would have provided Kaleb with some way to rinse his mouth after swallowing Her shit, and prior to French-kiss Her asshole, so as to thoroughgly cleanse it with a fresh soaked tongue ...

Also, that cute Mikayla didn't tell him all the truth, especially, She didn't tell him the worst : Unless She is homosexual, She will also have male guests at home, which means male users for that "unfortunate" Kaleb, who, I suppose, is a straight guy ?! ....

I can't wait to see how that poor Kaleb will fall in that "horrible" trap for the rest of his miserable life .... Lucky Kaleb, though !:!!!
 
Mar 2, 2013
97
11
6
Australia
#13
That being said, I have one regret : Your toilet, if I understand correctly, won't allow tongue-cleaning of the user's ass after defecation ... A pity because I believe it is the best benefit of having a toilet-slave. If Mikayla had owned a toilet-slave before, She probably would have provided Kaleb with some way to rinse his mouth after swallowing Her shit, and prior to French-kiss Her asshole, so as to thoroughgly cleanse it with a fresh soaked tongue ...
Well, the idea about this story in particular is, as the title says, for it to be as objectified as possible. To be as complete as a normal toilet as possible. I'm not sure about elsewhere in the world, but where I live (Australia), toilets don't have rinsing services. So for him to clean her with his tongue would be unrealistic to what an actual (or normal) toilet provides. But whether it's different in other parts of the world, I wouldn't know. I can only base my writing on things I do know about, I'm afraid.

Also, that cute Mikayla didn't tell him all the truth, especially, She didn't tell him the worst : Unless She is homosexual, She will also have male guests at home, which means male users for that "unfortunate" Kaleb, who, I suppose, is a straight guy ?! ....
Well, yes, you do have a point there. But Kaleb will be installed beneath the bathroom floor, so it's not like he can see who is using him anyway. So unless there is some significant difference in taste between male and female feces/urine (being inexperienced in real life, I wouldn't actually know), he won't be able to tell who is using him, or what gender they are. Besides, Mikayla could be homosexual indeed :p

Anyway, cheers for the enthusiasm man!
 
Feb 12, 2011
51
0
6
#15
Would it not get a tad repetitive if he's underneath the surface? I mean, if all he see's is darkness, then it would just be bodily fluids seeping down into the tube. I can understand that he'd be a toilet, but what about the visual aspect of it. Seeing the face of who ever's using the toilet as well as the gender if you plan to go on that route of FM/M.

Please get back to me :)

P.S - It looks amazing.
 
Mar 2, 2013
97
11
6
Australia
#16
Would it not get a tad repetitive if he's underneath the surface? I mean, if all he see's is darkness, then it would just be bodily fluids seeping down into the tube. I can understand that he'd be a toilet, but what about the visual aspect of it. Seeing the face of who ever's using the toilet as well as the gender if you plan to go on that route of FM/M.

Please get back to me :)

P.S - It looks amazing.
I agree completely. The visual is an important aspect to me, or at least I would assume so. But this is a fantasy of mine as well, albeit not one I would choose to experience in reality, which is why I'm writing. Toilets don't see, they don't hear, they don't move. This story is to be as objectified as possible, to be rendered as complete to an actual toilet as possible. If that makes sense.

Also, I do aim to make my stories realistic on an immersion factor. To chain someone up for the rest of their life and use them as a toilet would be, in my mind, less than legal, not to mention socially and morally reprehensible in the minds of most people. Placing the human toilet beneath the ground would keep him out of contact with people. The woman in control could use some kind of excuse that it is a pit toilet, or some such, to justify the lack of water and flushing. Who would ever know the truth? Having him just out in the open would kind of ruin that.

Yes, it would get repetitive, but going back to the objective thing, a toilets job, when not in use, is repetitive by nature. It just remains there doing nothing! The primary goal behind this specific story, is for a woman to reach the apex of dominance by rendering a man from a human into an object/tool to be used.

I hope all that makes at least some sense to you. Once I'm done with this story, provided there is interest, I will write others containing different scenarios. Ones that may indeed contain the visual aspect :cool:

Cheers.
 
Mar 2, 2013
97
11
6
Australia
#18
*note: I apologise if the chapter still isn't long enough. I try to install quality into it, rather than quantity. I don't want it dragging too long or getting stale. Feedback on this would be useful! Cheers*

Chapter 3

Choking! I was caught unexpectedly. So lost in thought during the recounting of my story, so focused in the detail I was, that I didn't feel the intial splash at the back of my throat. Before I realised, my mouth was full. My teeth bit down at the pipe that kept my jaw open. Of course I couldn't close it, I couldn't even remember the feeling of my lips touching, my jaw had been forced open by the pipe for so long now. I regained my composure, my concentration. I swallowed. Again, and again. Getting it down. Fortunately, the urine was not salty. Mikayla, or whoever it was using me, must have been drinking plenty of water beforehand. All the better, for it made swallowing more easy. After the initial shock, I got it all down without too much effort. I kept myself tense, waiting for anything that might come next. It was with some relief that I felt a scrunched piece of toilet paper fall onto my tongue. She was finished with the toilet. No shit, for now at least. With my tongue, I raised the toilet paper and flattened it against the roof of my mouth. Softening it, soaking it. No shit.. Don't get me wrong, I loved it as much as urine. But right now, I was more interested in my story - and trying to get shit down neatly and orderly was always a rather tough task. I let an audible sigh escape my mouth up through the pipe. I began rhythmically moving my hips forward and back so that my dick, which had stiffened, rubbed along the walls of the small urination pipe that was fastened around it. I don't know if it was an oversight by Mikayla, or some small act of mercy she had deliberately allowed in the construction, but with the right hip movements I could masturbate myself in this method. It was some relief at least, and made those precious encounters with the waste all the more gratifying.

I pictured Mikayla sitting on that throne. That white, ceramic and plastic throne above me. Her arse hanging into the toilet bowl, her vagina launching forth its torrent. Golden maybe, perhaps clear, judging from its taste this time. Whatever, it was a gift.. straight from the source. Oh, from the source indeed. I sighed again. My dick, rubbed relentlessly along the walls of the urination pipe. Another sigh. Straight from the source. That pink sorce. Mmm. That torrent which I had just consumed. Some time ago, it was perhaps coffee, maybe water. It traversed through Mikayla's lips, explored the crevices and joys of her tongue and mouth, danced across her taste buds, rushed along her teeth. It slid down past her uvula. Down, down into the depths of her body. Another sigh. The rubbing intensified. The transformation of the liquid into the golden wine. And then, push. Mikayla, or whoever you are. Push it out, down into that toilet, down that drain, into the real toilet. Yes, down through the toilet bowl that is my mouth, down through the plumming that is my body. I came. I felt the warmth of white cream cover the head of my dick. I moaned. I thought of Mikayla. Every part of her. Her external body, her eyes, that mocking smile, the lovely brown hair, her nice small breasts, the delightful pink pussy - the source! Her pretty toes, her delicious soles, perhaps browned from being barefoot. I thought at the same time, the inside of her body. Just as beautiful, in its own way. The journey of the urine through it. I thought, as I always do, while I came. Finally, the pleasure ceased. I sighed one last time, and began using my tongue to play with the toilet paper again. I wouldn't swallow it for awhile yet. I never swallowed toilet paper right away. It was a source of entertainment after all. Ahh, I used the term 'source' again. So sweet... sweet. I felt my still warm cum soak around my dick. If the toilet pipe did not keep my mouth wide open, I would have smiled. A soft, happy smile. I shifted my thoughts back to that time, however long ago it was. The last night of my freedom. Where I left off, before I was so rudely, nay, so pleasantly interrupted.

"Come to me, slave." Mikayla ordered. We were in the living room. I was on my knees in the corner when she called to me. She lay on the couch, upon her side. Head resting on two pillows, her eyes glued to the television. Her body was now half naked. She wore only a bra and panties, black in colour, for the wood fire heated the room very adequately. Some might say too adequately. Her legs rested upon each other, one on top, the other on the bottom. She let the foot on top, her left, angle downwards diagonally in front of her right. I was watching them just before. She would periodically run the bottom of the toes of her front foot against the tops of her right. They were subtle, but my eyes still caught them. These movements made my dick pulse every time, though once more, I tried to conceal my erection. Most likely in vain.

I obeyed her command, and crawled over to the couch, by her feet.
"Come closer, over here" I crawled closer to her upper body. "Lay down, on your back". Of course I obliged. I was now laying right next to the couch, on the floor. More or less level to Mikayla herself, at least positionally. The couch elevated her higher than myself, which is where she must always be - higher. I heard the couch ruffle as she changed position, and then her hand appeared over the side of the couch and lowered toward me.

"Slaves are always amusing when they act like puppies, wouldn't you agree?" I agreed. I began licking her palm. Licking? Lapping like a puppy, would be a more accurate term. The proportion of my dick challenged Mount Everest at this moment. It amazed me. That such mere contact could make me this way. I would probably react the same way if I could kiss even her goddamned elbow! I knew I was making the right choice tonight. If licking her hand like a puppy was this exciting, then a life devotion to her, to be her most intimate tool. Oh yes, the right choice indeed. I absolutely adored this woman. Everything. It seems impossible to idolise someone this much, but I did.. I do, and how! My tongue ran along her hand again and again. I felt the intricate lines of her palm stand out. I thought to myself what it would be like to shrink myself to an inconceivably small size. To explore those very lines as if they were canyons. I amazed myself with this thought. How pathetic am I, to crave over someone so much? Is it pathetic? Or just insane committed devotion? I didn't know, I still don't. Nor do I care. I licked her palm like it was the greatest icy pole this world had ever seen. She then raised her hand semi-vertically, and inserted her fingers inside my mouth. I sucked. I don't know how long that continued for. I was in heaven. My eyes were closed. My mouth embraced her fingers, her very touch. The taste of her soft skin, my tongue flicking across the nails of someone who works at a beauty salon for a living. This was ecstasy in and of itself.

She retracted her fingers after some time. I opened my eyes to meet her gaze. She was peering over the edge of the couch down at me. I felt tiny compared to her here, as if I was a bug. She could have squashed me like with one of her divine heels, and I would not complain. I was completely under her spell.
"Open your mouth". She did not need to ask twice. I saw her mouth twitch a little, like her tongue was moving around. Then she puckered her lips, opened slightly, and let a white stream of saliva spill forth into my waiting mouth. "Swallow, slave. Get your first taste of consuming my gifts." The saliva was down my throat faster than the speed of light. It didn't really taste of anything, but that didn't matter to my mind or my dick. It was heavenly regardless. She smiled. Gazed at me for a while, then withdrew her head out of view.
"Some naughty puppy dogs prefer feet to hands, you know. Are you a naughty puppy?" My heart jumped.
"Yes" I said after a very brief recollection of my composure.
"Then be a naughty puppy." I sat up, and crawled to the foot of the couch. I glanced at Mikayla, but she was invested in her TV again. She was now lying on her back, when she moved into a comfortable position to extend her hand for worship earlier. Her feet were sat upright, side by side. A small smorgasbord of ten, red-polished toes in a row. I moved my head to the right a little, to see her soles. Along the heel, ball and on the bottoms of the toes, they were a shade of brown. She hadn't showered since at least the day previous, and most of this day was spent barefoot, both in and outside. I lent my head forward, close to the soles, and inhaled. The smell hit me. I smiled, and without thinking, my right hand instinctively grabbed my crotch and squeezed softly, then rubbed. The material of my pants only increased the amazing feel it provided. Mikayla either didn't see, or didn't care I was doing this. With my left hand, I grabbed the foot closest to me and drew it toward my face. I inhaled again. A second time, a third. Still I rubbed my crotch. I longed to pull my dick out and jerk. I knew I'd blow within 5 strokes, but I'd just keep going. No way in hell was this one of those moments where I'd lose desire after a little bit of ejaculation. I kept my reason however. She might not notice or mind a little rub, but a full on jerk? I'd need permission first. I dare not ask. I extracted my tongue and ran it from heel to ball. I performed the opposite, from ball to heel. I moved my tongue slightly to the right, and repeated the process in a new vertical line. I repeated again, moving across slightly so as to systematically lick the entire foot. Then I double-backed and repeated again. Again and again. The taste consumed me with ecstasy. Jerk? Who needs to fucking jerk off? I had came in my pants already, just through a slight rub of my dick, and I was close to doing so again. I withdrew my head a little and looked at her sole. It was dripping wet from my tongue, and the colour wasn't quite as intense as before. I abandoned the sole for a moment and kissed the tops of her toes. In a way so the nail braced against my upper lip, and the flesh soothingly rubbed against the lower. I continued for awhile, and then took the plunge. Opening my mouth slightly, and letting my face inch forward, the kiss evolved into an oral embrace. First the small toe, then right along, individually at first. I reached the big toe and sucked it. Gave it its own personal blowjob. My dick was pressing against the wet stains of my underwear, it was close to doubling that mess. I moved my face to the left a little, with her big toe remaining in my mouth so it pushed against my right cheek. I opened wide, and took all of them. First I ran my tongue along the bottoms, from left to right, right to left. Then raised and ran along the nails. The bottom of my tongue jumped from nail to nail. Following this, I pushed myself deeper. My tongue now came in contact with the ball of her foot once more, her toenails scratched the roof of my mouth. I plunged deeper. I gagged slightly. I heard a giggle. I continued. Gagged again, felt the scratch of nail. My tongue danced along the arch. My dick shot its cream once more. It did nothing to halt the momentum. I came to love the feel of her scratching toenails. I felt a slight movement, then the feeling of something on the back of my head. Her other foot was now assisting the deepthroat. I gagged again, Mikayla pushed down harder. The taste of her sole exploded on my tongue, the feel of nail tickled the farther reaches of my throat. I suppressed a gag this time, though I now realised I could no longer breathe. My breath held. For several moments. She wiggled the toes in my throat, causing me to gag once more. I tried to withdraw, her other foot held me in place. I squirmed. My lungs were warning me of danger! My brain was telling me to fight! My dick was telling me to give in! To submit! I did so. I gagged again, instinctively tried to pull back. Mikayla did not allow it. Submission. This is a test. I am to submit to her for the rest of my life. I have to get used to it, I have to embrace it.

My mind paints a picture. Mikayla is in her salon. It's empty. It's late, after closing time. She's the last left. She glanced down at her feet and realises she could use a new coat of polish. She sits down on a leather couch, kicks off her heels. She raises her feet up unto the coffee table in front of her, arches resting on the edge so the toes curve over. She takes out the red polish. Runs the brush over her nails. Smiles when she's done. She's good at what she does. The best. Now, not long after, those freshly painted nails tickle my throat. She's good at what she does...

Finally I feel the weight lift from my head. I retreat. I cough, I splutter. I recover, and meet her curious eyes. She seemed to be waiting for something. An answer, maybe? I smiled. She nodded slightly, as if clarifying to herself. She turns back to her television. I turn back to her feet. The left foot this time. I spent an hour, maybe more, worshiping her feet. This was the final mercy before the fate that would soon be bestowed upon me. I savoured it. Most people would think this is a lame final hour to spend ones freedom, for me it was perfect. At one moment, I accidentally scraped my teeth along one of her toes. This displeased her. An angry expression took form on her face. Frightening. Her left foot shot against my throat, pushing my head against the armrest of the couch. She raises her right and slaps me with it. Once, twice, three times, more. Furiously, she slaps my face with her foot while choking with the left. Finally, she calms. Transforms her expression from one of anger, to one of mockery. She keeps her foot to my throat, pinning me in place against the arm rest. She clenches the toes of her right foot, puts them against my cheek, and slides down, scratching. This is repeated. She subsides, releases her choking grasp and turns back to her television. After a moment of hesitation, I continue worshiping, being mindful not to make the same mistake before. I sink back into ecstasy. I cum again soon after.

She stood, and wiped her soles on the carpet, trying to dry them somewhat from the sea of saliva I had put upon them. I know it is time. I follow behind her on my knees. Through the living room, down the hallway and into the bathroom. She stops. I see her hands raise behind her back, to her bra. It drops to the floor. She lowers her fingers to her panties. They drop around her ankles. I am greeted by a view of her arse. Nice, round. Not too big, not too small. She places her fingers on both cheeks, and spreads. I look at the hole. I look at what will become my source of solid food. It is slightly dark in colour compared to the cheeks outside. My heart races.
"I think it is only fitting for you to see this at least once. Go ahead, slave. Have a good look." I leaned closer. The dark abyss of her asshole beckoned before me. I wished to explore it.
"Kiss it. Show your devotion to it." I replied to her command with much vigor. I launched forward. Placed my face between her crack, and kissed. Kissed her sphincter over and over. I became bold, I extended my tongue. Licked. She didn't stop me. I pushed my tongue inside. Deep inside. I was ready to take her shit now! She withdrew.
"Not yet. You are still a slave. Soon enough though." she turned around. My eyes raised to her breasts. Small, round, perfect. My gaze lowered to her pussy. Small, and pink. Fresh. Her dark pubes were trimmed short. I hoped to get a similar treatment to it as I did her arse. Then I truly was dreaming. She then opened the glass door to the shower and stepped inside.
"Make your choice Kaleb. When I get out of here, you'll either be nowhere to be seen, or you'll be lying down naked inside your future home. If it's the latter, then I'll act accordingly. There is no turning back from that." she closed the door behind her. "You understand everything perfectly?"
"Yes, Mikayla"
"Good." And with that, the sqeaul of the shower resounded through the bathroom and the sound of running water took centre stage. I didn't need to think. I didn't need to decide. I already had. I bent down, grabbed her panties. I smelt them softly, kissed them. I looked at the blurred figure behind the glass. I smiled. I gave the panties another sniff, and laid them back on the tiled floor. I petted them softly, still smiling. I stood, took off my shirt and pants. Discarded them on the floor. I did the same with my socks and underwear. I paced toward the toilet and looked down inside. I gazed at the funnel, at the pipe that led down into darkness. I envisioned a man beneath the bathroom floor, his mouth attatched to the other end of the pipe. My mind pictured Mikayla sitting on it, clipping her toenails while her urine shoots forth into the drain below. A log of shit follows. If you listen carefully, you could potentially hear a soft choking come from below. Mikayla stands. Wipes her vagina, then her arse. Discards the toilet paper into the toilet. She gathers her clippings and throws them down as well. She then hocks, and spits straight into the pipe for good measure, and closes the lid, leaving behind the toilet and plumming to do its work.

I needed no convincing. No second thought. I stepped down into the hole in the floor. Laid myself down on the blanket. My head was encased in darkness. I hit myself with the pipe twice getting in there. I waited. Soon, the sound of rushing water ceased. Then after a moment, I saw a foot lower down into the hole, followed by a second. Mikayla sat on my stomach, a flashlight in her right hand, and some kind of hood in her left. She switched the light on.
"I see you made your choice. Good. If this is what you really wanted, I'm happy for you. Truly, I am. I know what it's like to lose a loved one. I know the pain it can put you through. You lost everyone, Kaleb. Everyone. You have nothing left to live for. People deal with such things in different ways. Some kill themselves, some seek counsiling, some just deal with it. You've decided to this."
"It gives meaning to my life Mikayla. To serve you, the greatest woman I have ever beheld. To serve you in a manner that befits someone with nothing to live for, for now I do have something. We'll never see each other again, but the presence will always be felt. I'll always serve you, always, until I expire. You say you'll forget me, but I know you won't. Every time you're on that toilet, you'll know it's just a passage to the real one beneath. You'll remember me every time you use me. That's right, Mikayla?" She said nothing. Just nodded in reply. She almost looked sad. "Please, don't pity me."
"I don't."
"Mikayla. I want this. I want to be your toilet. I want to serve you in the way only the most devoted could. Please, promise me you'll remember me only for who I will become, not for who I was."
"I will, Kaleb. Want me to start now?" My heart thundered again. I knew this was it.
"Yes" i said.
"Then people don't talk to toilets. Goodbye." She proceeded to move the hood towards me.
"Just one last thing.." She looked at me. "I want your name to be the last thing I ever say... Mikayla... Mikayla!" I could have sworn she bore a quick, sad smile. She said nothing. People don't talk to toilets.

She lifted my head and placed the hood over. Her face was the last thing I ever saw. The darkness descended over me. The only opening in the hood was at the mouth. It was tight so I could not breathe through my nose. That helped ensure that I must get everything down. Must not allow a blockage! My head was placed back down and I felt cool fingers in my mouth. My tongue was lifted so it wouldn't be caught at the outside of the pipe as it was inserted into my mouth. It forced my jaw wide open. It extended about halfway into my mouth, so anything that came through would land right in the back of the throat. My tongue darted around the pipe. At least I could use it to assist in getting everything down. I felt something pull tight across my neck. I felt similar occurrences around my chest, stomach, wrists, thighs and ankles. I heard the sounds of clicking, feint and heavily muffled through the tight hood. I was being firmly locked in place. I was immobile now. My neck was held down by a strap, and I could not turn my head due to the pipe, which wouldn't move an inch no matter how hard I could try. I felt Mikayla's fingers grasp my dick. I let out a soft sigh into the pipe. I felt something swallow my dick, and clamp around at the base. The pipe that would take my urine. I was fully erect when she placed it inside, and so it was a little tight, though not so much that it hurt. I moved my hips slightly forward and back, to test out a theory. Yes! I could masturbate this way. I decided to stop lest it attract the attention of Mikayla. If it was an oversight on her behalf, I certainly didn't want her correcting it. I then felt the coolness of her soles stand on my stomach as she pulled herself out of the hole. Her feet were the last direct human contact I ever felt. It was fitting, and an honour. I awaited being used, I was anxious, excited. Nothing came for awhile. I waited, and waited. Maybe she would start only once the floor was fully covered and the construction complete? That thought was shattered when I felt something hit my tongue. A drop. Several more landed at the back of my throat. I was instantly hit with a taste that made me want to throw up. A salty taste that could only have been spawned from the lowest depths of hell.

In that moment, I thought to myself 'Was I wrong? Did I just make a mistake?'. The drops quickly evolved into a full torrent.

'Well Kaleb. You asked for it' I thought to myself. 'Here we go!'
 

equidum

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Aug 17, 2002
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#19
Another mouth-watering post, which will even more warm up its readers' enthusiasm !

And I now understand and support your perspective : In the word "toilet slave", there are two different concepts. The first is toilet the other is slave. Most of us on this board strongly value the "slave" concept, and that's why we regret that Kaleb "doesn't see his users", or "doesn't clean Her" etc ... But, if I understand correctly, you are going one step further in the debasement, forgetting the slave, and just focussing on the toilet aspect... And I must say that you describe it very vividly, to such a point that, if that type of slavery was not a death sentence, one way or another, I would volunteer to be buried that way, if, some day soon hopefully, I was introduced to the lovely Mikayla ... I would thus be even less than a slave, i.e perfect acme of perfection in the area of perfect slavery .... :)

Thanks !! Please don't keep us waiting !
 
Mar 2, 2013
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Australia
#20
Another mouth-watering post, which will even more warm up its readers' enthusiasm !

And I now understand and support your perspective : In the word "toilet slave", there are two different concepts. The first is toilet the other is slave. Most of us on this board strongly value the "slave" concept, and that's why we regret that Kaleb "doesn't see his users", or "doesn't clean Her" etc ... But, if I understand correctly, you are going one step further in the debasement, forgetting the slave, and just focussing on the toilet aspect... And I must say that you describe it very vividly, to such a point that, if that type of slavery was not a death sentence, one way or another, I would volunteer to be buried that way, if, some day soon hopefully, I was introduced to the lovely Mikayla ... I would thus be even less than a slave, i.e perfect acme of perfection in the area of perfect slavery .... :)

Thanks !! Please don't keep us waiting !
Thanks for the kind words man. I've actually started writing a second story during the meantime, which will actually fully embrace the slave part of the concept, so that should please you. I'll probably get the first chapter of that up soon. I'm also making plans for a third, albeit of a vastly different concept. However, they aren't relevant to this story, so I will stop speaking of them. The fourth chapter should be done within the next day or two. Hopefully that isn't too long.

Cheers again! All the best, my friend.