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I wanted to be a toilet slave

“This is what you’ve always wanted.” I mumble to myself, over and over as I fumble with my phone outside her door, trying to scroll through my emails in search of the code that I am supposed to enter into the intercom. Not easy when your hands are clammy and shaking. I press six and wait. Nothing happens. I press six again. Still nothing. I check the email again. ‘When you arrive, please call 06 on the buzzer beside the front door’ the email says. I am so nervous that I can feel a hot flash coming on. I press six again and look carefully at the keyboard in front of me. Oh, there’s a little bell button. maybe I should press that too to call her. I press the bell and I am rewarded with three fast and sharp beeps which rather sound as if I am being scorned for being an idiot. Then silence. I look at my watch. Three past ten already. She is going to think that I am late even though I am standing right here outside her door! Oh what a fool I am!

In desperation, I decide to text her in order to let her know that I have arrived. A few seconds of waiting, then I see the door handle move and the door opens ever so slightly, then stays ajar. She is clearly not going to open it any further, so I guess I should push it. I tentatively reach for the door and push it open all the way. I see another door that is also ajar, just behind the first. I walk in and see Mistress Evilyne, the world famous Scat Queen and London’s leading Hardsports Mistress, standing in all her glory right there, just behind the door. I am mesmerised by her beauty and stand there, my jaw most likely dropping to the ground.

“Well close the door behind you, I’m not heating all of London!” she says sharply, bringing me back down to reality with a crash. In a moment of slight panic, I clumsily reach for the front door and make a complete fool of myself, I am sure, as I awkwardly turn around in the tiny space, trying to wedge myself in as I close the door behind me. I finally manage to complete the task and stand before her, not sure where to look. “Go on then, don’t just stand there! Down!”  I get down on my knees in the tiny tiled space barely larger than a broom closet, ready to kiss Mistress’s feet. I feel a sharp impact on the back of my head. A slap. I look up, confused. Mistress Evilyne points scornfully at a grey curtain behind me which I draw aside to find a steep, dark staircase. “I meant down the stairs, you idiot! Not down on your knees! Did you really think this was all there was to my playspace?” I hesitantly walk down this staircase and hear the second door being closed and locked behind me, accompanied by Mistress Evilyne mumbling under her breath at me. Well, here we go! I think to myself. It’s too late to back out now. Remember, this is what you have always wanted.

At the bottom of the steep dark staircase, I draw aside another luxuriously heavy curtain to reveal a windowless apartment bathed in the golden glow of hidden lighting. A full wall of mirrors calls out to me invitingly, hinting at the prospect of multi-angled visual delights. I see a contraption already laid out before me: a toilet seat on four feet. My heart starts to pound as I realise that now I really am in it for real. I turn around to see Mistress’s glorious feet in delicate high heels coming down the stairs, each step revealing a little more of her shapely calves, then her thighs, then an impossibly shiny black rubber dress that almost looks liquid. Finally, Mistress Evilyne’s face appears, and she is looking me straight in the eyes with that mischievous gaze which I know so well from photographs and videos. There she is, looking me directly in the eyes, smiling. I can feel myself melting into a puddle already. My prick is embarrassingly stiff in my pants. For the first time ever, I am grateful that it is tiny. At least she can’t see how hard it is.

I suddenly realise that I am staring. I’ve never been in this situation before, I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to stand? Kneel? Grovel pathetically and kiss her feet begging for mercy? I have no idea. In a moment of pure panic and after what feels like an age of being indecisive and of bumbling around like an idiot, I choose the latter and fall to the ground in a heap, throwing myself on  Goddess’s shoes, kissing them desperately between rushed pleas for mercy and mumbled avowals of my inferiority and my gratitude towards her for allowing me to serve her. I am stunned at how easily I have fallen into this role. Here I am, merely seconds in, never having met this woman before… in fact, I have never been to see a Mistress before, period. Yet already, I find myself naturally falling to her feet: worshipping her as a Goddess. What power she has over me!

‘Get up, you pathetic wretch’ I hear her snarl. As quickly as I can, I get onto my feet, wiping away the drool that’s smeared on my chin “Where is my tribute?” I check my trouser pockets, front and back, then my shirt pocket, followed by my outer, then inner jacket pockets… I begin to panic. Where did I put the money? I check everything again. I just can’t seem to find it. I’m frantic now, and when I glance up for a second, I see Mistress Evilyne standing before me, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, chuckling as she looks at me.

“You really are a dimwit, aren’t you?” she laughs. I have no idea what she means, but I am definitely feeling more and more like an idiot. Somehow though, the more under pressure I feel, and the more of an idiot I feel, the more aroused I feel, which makes my brain fog up even more. What an evil cycle I find myself in! “I don’t know where it went, Mistress! I can’t find the tribute!” A sharp slap lands on my cheek, stunning me into silence and submission. Mistress Evilyne reaches out and grabs the hair on top of my head, turning me into her string puppet. I feel myself being turned round and dragged to my knees, my head nearly slamming into the parquet flooring, leaving me face to face with a crumpled white envelope that I recognise all too well.

“Might this be what you are looking for?” she asks. “Uhm, yes I think it is” I stutter awkwardly. “I can’t say that I’m impressed”she says scornfully”It dropped out of your pocket when you got on your knees just now. Aren’t you lucky that so much money didn’t just disappear from your pocket on public transport? Next time, do stash your tribute away more safely before travelling to see me.” “Oh yes Mistress! I promise I will!” “Also, why didn’t you ring the buzzer?” “I did Mistress! But it didn’t work!” “Of course it works, you idiot. What did you press?” “I pressed 6 and the bell button, Mistres.” Mistress Evilyne looks at me with total disdain. “Get your phone out and open the email in which I gave you directions.” she says cuttingly. I follow her orders. “Now, look at what it says. It says call ZERO SIX. That is because you are suposed to press zero AND six. Why else do you think I would have put the zero there?” “To look pretty Mistress?” Mistres Evilyne’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she turns away from me. I have disappointed her. Why did I answer that? I really am an idiot!

Mistress Evilyne hides away the envelope and leads me to the beautiful shiny black toilet seat that I had noticed upon first descending into her lair. “Do you see this?” she asks me. I nod, afraid that If I speak, the wrong words will exit my mouth. “You are going to get very well acquainted with this piece of furniture. In fact, over time, you will come to recognise it as an extension of your body. Now, go to the bathroom, take your clothes off, and come back out on your hands and knees then crawl to me to present yourself subserviently and fully nude.”

I scuttle off to her bathroom just as she asks. I am a hot sweaty mess. It’s taking forever to undress and I am getting more and more flustered. I feel like I am not moving fast enough and all my clothes seem to be sticking to my skin. Oh my god, her bathroom is clean like a hotel or something, and hear I am putting my sweaty filth all over it! What am I doing here? I don’t even deserve to be here! What if I’m not good enough? What if I can’t do it and disappoint her and she banishes me for life? What if I throw up? *screams internally while grappling with left shoelaces*

Eventually, I am naked, and my clothes are all hung up on the wall hook. I have rinsed my face and am ready. I am in it now, so I might as well just give in and let Mistress Evilyne take the reigns. That’s what it’s all about, right? So I tentatively open the bathroom door and get onto my hands and knees and begin to crawl out onto the hard wood floor. The lights are muted and soft sultry music is playing. Mistress Evilyne is standing in the middle of the room, towering over me in all her glory. She is wearing a small black later dress which shines like an oil slick and hugs her figure oh so magnificently. Her voluminous breasts are just spilling out of the top in a way that makes my small little prick swell so much that I fear it might burst. her right hand is on her hip and her left is holding a leather collar. I keep crawling towards my Goddess and stop at her feet. I prostrate myself before her. A sudden calm has taken me over. I am no longer nervous or self doubting. I am here to serve, and serve I will. Mistress Evilyne is my Goddess and I shall consume. 

Mistress Evilyne gently lifts my chin so that I am looking her in the eyes. “You may get up onto your knees…. good. Now bow your head.” I obey. She wraps the leather collar around my sweaty neck. It is thick and padded and fits snugly around my throat in a way that I find strangely comforting. This is what it must feel like to be owned. I think to myself as I feel the clasp being closed. “Now,” murmurs Mistress Evilyne “you may worship my feet to show me your gratitude for being allowed to be in my presence, for being given the opportunity to serve me…” I fall onto her feet like a voracious wild beast, my appetite insatiable. I can feel my ego dissolve as I melt into the soft and tissue paper thin skin of her feet. Their delicate aroma embalms my soul as I embrace them. The scent of a woman. It’s such a precious gift. I want to live in it forever. In fact, I have already lost track of time. how long have I been lying at Mistress Evilyne’s feet? Has it been three minutes? Thirty? I could not tell you. My entire being has lost itself in the rapture that is worshipping my divine Mistress.

A tug on my collar swiftly shakes me out of my dream state. “Now that I am satisfied with your adoration of my feet, I shall allow you to greet me how I enjoy being greeted by my toilet slaves” I hear her say smoothly above me. She leads me to the mirror and stands facing it. Looking me right in the eyes with her piercing gaze, Mistress Evilyne pulls up her skirt and smiles at me. “Worship my arse.” She simply says as she puts both her hands against the mirror. Tentatively, I approach her spherical behind. It’s so juicy and bouncy. So pale and soft. I get closer and closer, until my lips are just a millimetre away from her skin. I inhale deeply, the smell of sweat and latex interlaced fill my nose. Gently, I touch my lips to her glorious arse. I do it again with a bit more confidence this time, and again, slowly, and again, and again, each time with a bit more pressure, for a bit longer, my lips a little more parted. Soon, I am embracing her arse as if it is my lover and I am kissing it passion. I have completely lost myself in that arse, and before I know it I am no longer simply kissing her lovely smooth cheeks but rather burying my face deep withing Mistres Evilyne’s arse crack, smothering myself within it, while her words, in that soft deep, purring voice wash over me in a hypnotising wave. “This is the moment that you have been dreaming of your entire life. Finally, you are worshipping the arse that will feed you what you deserve. You are about to become what you have always known you would. You are about to be transformed from man into toilet slave. I am going to feed you my shit. Now, worship, the arsehole that will feed you. Massage it with your tongue. Get to know it intimately before it delivers your breakfast.”

My face buried within the warm, sweaty confines of Mistress Evilyne’s arse crack, I let my tongue explore her flex until I find her perfect rosebud. Slowly, I play with it with the tip of my tongue, becoming emboldened by the sounds of pleasure and the words of encouragement that I hear coming from her mouth. The more I play with it, the more I can feel it relaxing, until I realise that has now loosened up enough for me to press the tip of my tongue into its centre.

“I think it’s time for us to move to my toilet seat.” Mistress Evilyne says. She pulls away from me and for a moment, the world feels as if it is spinning. Light hits my eyes and I suddenly remember that I am a human being, not simply a slave and a toilet. How comfortable I was in my new role. I am blown away at how effortlessly I slipped into it. Mistress Evilyne points at the toilet chair as she lifts up the seat. I lie down with my head positioned under it. She smiles at me as she lowers the seat gently. “This is your new home” she says, smiling at me “You will learn to love it.” “Oh I already do, Mistress.” From the ground, I watch Mistress Evilyne stand over me with her back to me, roling up her tight latex skirt once more, then gently lowering her diaphanous arse onto the sea above me. This time, I have the time to notice her arse in much detail. I see that as she sits down, her cheeks gently part, revealing the stretched pink skin of her arse crack and allowing her arsehole to show itself in its full glory. How majestic it is, all swollen up and pink with pleasure. I can’t wait to get intimate with it again. My prick is dripping. I can feel it twitch and I can feel the precum oozing down it. Once Mistress has fully sat down, her arsehole just above my mouth, I hear her laugh. She must have noticed my lamentable penis.

I feel a slight pinch on my cock with makes me flinch. Mistress Evilyne has grabbed it between her thumb and forefinger. After all, there is no point in using any more fingers to grab it, it’s so small. “Oh bless your cotton socks,” she giggles above me “Look at that tiny little overexcited thing. Well aren’t you all turned on? Hahahaha! Now resume licking my arsehole as you were before. And now, to prepare you for the taste of being my new shit eating toilet, I want you to get acquainted with my shit py gently poking your tongue into my relaxed arsehole and stroking my shit that is just on the other side of it with the tip of your pointy little tongue. I want you to get a taste of my shit before it fills your mouth.” I endeavour to do as my Mistress orders but I find it quite difficult to push my tongue inside her. Her arsehole may be relaxed, but it is not dilated. Eventually, I try forming my tongue into a hard little pointy dart with which I titillate the swollen rectum until I feel it relax to the point of gently opening up. I slowly push my tongue in deeper and deeper until it comes into contact with a completely new texture. I am no longer licking flesh. I am now exploring a whole new world. I am actually touching Mistress Evilyne’s glorious scat with my tongue! It feels strangely smooth and hard, with cracks and ridges along its surface in places. As I realise what is happening, something within me shifts. I can feel it happen. Deep within me, a switch is flicked, one that has long been dormant. A new reason for living is born within me. This feels right. It feels true. I am a toilet! I will consume my Mistress’s shit and I will serve her! I AM A TOILET!

As I am losing myself within my scat slave epiphany, my eyes closed, my fingers playing with my swollen and dripping cock, my tongue probing and caressing her hard shit through her soft and silky arsehole, something happens. Out of nowhere, within a split second, that arsehole opens up and erupts its full contents into my mouth. My cheeks swell up to their maximum capacity about as fast as an airbag, but the shit keeps coming. I can feel it pressing against my tonsils. There is nowhere for it to go, as my mouth is creating an airtight seal against Mistress’s arse. Mistress Evilyne must realise what is happening because she ever so slightly lifts up her bottom, and now I can see that she is slowly exuding more shit still onto my open but full mouth like a soft serve machine into a cone. It seems to be never ending. Where is it all coming from? After what feels like an eternity, I see her arsehole twitch several times before closing up. Then Mistress Evilyne stands up, turns around, and crouches by her toilet seat to take a look at me. Her face is so close to mine that I can see the pores on her nose. She inspects her shit, looking very please with herself. “Aren’t you a lucky boy?” she says, a wide smile creeping onto her face “Such a big shit! and on your first time! You are in for a treat.”

All I can do is simply watch Mistress Evilyne as my mouth and cheeks are spread open by the giant shit that I am trying to contain. I am so completely sensorially overwhelmed that all I can do is lie there in stunned immobility and silence…. that is, except for my hand quickly fapping away at my cock. It has become second nature, like breathing. My fingers are furiously jerking at my little pecker, as if keeping it alive is the only thing that is preventing me from slipping into total oblivion. My eyes are wide as I stare at Mistress Evilyne, unsure of what to do next. Eventually, I realise that I need to breathe, so I try to push some of the shit out of my mouth. The act of doing this opens up my airways, which also brings an influx of taste and aroma. The bitter horror which I had read about so much. The taste is indescribable, and nothing in the world can prepare you for it. My mind was reeling between my instinct to empty my mouth totally and go straight into convulsive vomiting, and to simply do my duty and serve my Goddess as she deserved to be served. I began to gag, but then looked up and saw Mistress Evilyne, with her big limpid black eyes looking at me, that beautiful smile on her face. I had to please her. I had to serve her. I had to do right by my Mistress! Something amazing thus happened. I can only describe it as akin to what I imagine the shamanistic experience of walking on hot coals must be like. My need to serve, my soul’s utter necessity to be an object of use to my Mistress and to not disappoint just took over. I was no longer human. I was no longer a thinking feeling being. I didn’t have needs, I didn’t have a sense of right or wrong. I became an object to be used. I had a purpose and fulfil that purpose I must!

Holding eye contact with Mistress, I began to chew. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster with a sense of divine purpose. I swallowed my first lot of shit, and in a moment of pure zen, I repressed a gag which my body threw at me. I had total control over my natural urges. Never in my life had I experienced anything like this. Slavery had made me super human! With My tongue, I explored the inside of my mouth. My cheeks, my palate, not wanting to miss anything. Once I was secure in the knowledge that my mouth/toilet bowl was empty/flushed I opened it again to receive the load that I had previously pushed out and which had fallen to the floor beside my face. Mistress Evilyne picked up a nice large ball and dropped it into my mouth. As I chewed my next load, she caressed my face and cooed soft words of encouragement, clearly pleased with my enthusiasm. I kept chewing and swallowing, bit by bit until all the shit was consumed.

“Now, suck my fingers clean.” ordered Mistress Evilyne. “Suck them perfectly clean.” She reached a black latex covered finger towards my mouth. It was caked in her shit. I opened my mouth greedily and she slid her finger in. What a divine and sensual experience sucking shit off that finger. As Mistress Evilyne added a second shitty finger into my mouth and began teasing my tongue sensually, one might even say sexually, I felt my excitement reach new heights. I had sure enough already grown to adore the taste of her shit. And mixed with the smoothness of the latex glove covered finger toying with my tongue like a shitty french kiss, I couldn’t help myself from exploding in the most intense orgasm of my life. My entire body went into spasms as I sucked hard on Mistress Evilyne’s shitty fingers. One after another, the waves of pleasure and release washed over me like the ripples of an epic earthquake. My entire body tensed up and throbbed, tingles running through my limbs, as still I sucked on those smooth shitty fingers and the cum kept pouring out of me like milk from an udder. It just wouldn’t stop.

Finally, my orgasm slowed as wave after wave, the intensity of it decreased, leaving me in a fuzzy state of smelly bliss. Mistress Evilyne was waving a towel over my head. “I imagine you’d quite enjoy a shower now.” she said with a glint of mischief in her eye. She was right. The realisation that my mouth and face were covered in shit was starting to dawn on me. Now that my arousal was gone, shame and guilt were slowly creeping in to the back of my psyche. I had just done something so taboo I would never be able to tell anyone about it ever! I sat up and grabbed the towel that Mistress Evilyne was proffering. I got up and headed to the bathroom, feeling altogether confused, happy, satiated and slightly ashamed. just as I was about to step into the bathroom, Mistress Evilyne called out to me: “By the way, you did incredibly well, especially for a first time. I am very please and you should be very proud of yourself.”

That was all I needed to hear. As I closed the bathroom door behind myself and stepped into the shower, a warm mist of contentment engulfed me and I couldn’t resist whispering to myself, as a sense of fulfilment took a hold of me: “I am a toilet.”

~The End~

 

Written by Mistress Evilyne

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