Toilet slave

pissing in her panties

I had gotten Auburn’s name and phone number off of the Internet. She had placed advertisements on femdom group inviting wimps to call her for $1.99/minute. The thing that intrigued me was that based on her area code, she was located about 2 hours from me! I sent her some email telling her that I was into severe humiliation including forced toilet servitude. She emailed me back saying that
she liked nothing better than to watch some wimp eat and drink from the toilet!

That night, I called her up and had my first phone session. We decided to “act out” a fantasy. In the fantasy, I had publicly bad-
mouthed her, calling her a slut, whore, and other names. This had embarrassed her to no end and she had invited me over to “talk things
out.” Once I got there, I was drugged and locked into a large dog crate. This role-playing thing went on for about 15 minutes, with me
chuckling and occasionally exclaiming, “Wow – You are one tough lady!”

At one point, as part of the role-playing, she told me to lie on my back and piss into my mouth. I chuckled and asked her if she ever made guys do that in real life. She suddenly spoke out of character and asked me if my phone could reach the bathroom. I asked her why.
She said that she wanted me to lie on my back in the tub and let her listen to me pissing on my face!

Drinking piss for the first time

I told her I was not near a bathroom. She told me to put the phone down and go get a large glass. I asked her if she was serious and she said that she was. I knew it was sick but I was suddenly so hard that I couldn’t help myself. I told her I’d be right back and went and got a large glass. When I came back, she told me to hold the phone to the glass and piss into it which I did. She told me to hold the phone normally and to tip the glass back and chug the entire glass of piss in one swallow. I tipped the glass back and nearly gagged. It was incredibly salty. It reminded me of warm, seawater but my throbbing appendage seemed to enjoy it so I chugged the entire contents of the glass in one swallow. She asked me how I enjoyed it. Strangely, I had enjoyed it tremendously.

Next, she asked me when the last time I had taken a shit was. I told her that it was earlier that afternoon and asked her why? She told me that she wanted me to go get a bowl and shit in it for her. I told her that even if I was so inclined, I didn’t think I could do it with her listening. She told me to take the bowl to the bathroom, shit into it, bring it with me, and call her back when I was done! I told her that I wasn’t able to shit currently to which she hassled me, telling me that she didn’t believe me and that I really could if I had wanted to. I asked her if she had ever made a guy do that before and she said she had. She had made one guy shit on a doughnut and eat it and she made another guy shit into a hot dog bun and eat it, and yet another guy shit into his hands and she made him deep-throat the turd like it was a big dick!

I asked her how she knew they really did it and she replied that she had made them take polaroids of the event which they had sent her. I asked her what she did with the polaroids. She told me that she used them to blackmail the guys with. She made the guys send her money or gifts in exchange for her not posting the pictures on the internet or sending them to their wives!

I wasn’t sure if she were kidding or not but it was getting late and I had to go so we disconnected. We exchanged a few emails regarding what a “live” session would consist of. In a live session, we would meet at a local hotel.

She told me that she is extremely beautiful and powerful with long lean legs and that unless I was built like a linebacker, she would be able to physically overpower me and make me do anything she wanted.
We would agree beforehand regarding whether the session would be a light or a heavy one and that once the session started, she would be in control. She would push me, pull my hair, punch me, kick my balls HARD (as she put it), whip me, spit in my face, make me eat cigarette ashes and butts, eat food off the floor that she had chewed, drink her piss from a baby bottle and drink from the toilet. She would have a bodyguard in the car outside the room in case I got a testosterone rush and tried to get aggressive.

I emailed her back asking what would happen if we agreed to all this and once I got there, I chickened out. She replied that I could beg, whine, scream, and cry and she was still going to stuff my cruddy head into the toilet and give me what I paid for! On the second session, we mostly talked about what would happen in the live session. I told her that I was very excited about what she had written but was a little hesitant since it seemed to be somewhat severe for a first session. She agreed and suggested that we have a light session
first.

Men eating from the toilet

I asked her if the toilet stuff was part of the light session and she indicated that it was. She considered men eating from the toilet to
be “light.” I told her that what could happen was that I couldn’t “perform” once I got to the toilet. She said that once she
had me cuffed and bound that I WOULD perform. She said that she had a 100% success rate in that regard. I asked her what sort of stuff she would do to give me “incentive” to perform. She said that she would berate me and slap me VERY HARD, perhaps even punching me in the
face. If I still didn’t shit, she would help me along by taking her cigarette lighter and pass the flame under my cock and balls. She
would instruct me to eat very heavy the night before and not to take a shit before the session. She also mentioned that she would
photograph me eating the shit out of the toilet. I mentioned to her that I had a wife, kids, and a respectable job and couldn’t afford to have pictures of me posted to the Internet in that regard. She told me that once I got there and saw how beautiful she was, that I would let her do anything she wanted. She told me that if I still couldn’t shit for her that as a last resort, she would shit herself into the toilet and make me eat it. I told her that I was nervous about that in these days of HIV, Hepatitis, etc., and she told me that shit was my bag, not hers and that she wouldn’t bother with my worries!

I asked her how she could make me eat it if I didn’t want to. She told me that since my wrists would be shackled behind my back and my
ankles would be cuffed that she would simply drag me over to the toilet and force my head down into the bowl. If necessary, she would
pick me up by the waist and shove me, head-first into the toilet. I told her that while she might be able to dunk me, that it still
seemed like I could get away with not eating it. She told me that with really stubborn wimps, she will sometimes put on a pair of long,
rubber, dish-washing gloves. She will hold their heads under water in the toilet for 60 seconds or so, bring them up for a quick gulp of
air and force them back under again. After several dunkings, the guy will usually be gasping and crying like a baby and will do anything
she asks! I asked her if there would be a safeword. She said that in this case, there could be a safeword but if I used it she would:

  1. Leave the hotel room immediately with me chained to the bed for the maids to find
  2. Post all photographs to the internet
  3. Send copies of the pictures to my wife.
  4. Take a shit and using rubber gloves, force it into my mouth, hair, eyes, face, and all over my clothes.

Additionally, she said that at the start of the session, she tapes the slaves requests so that if any complications arise, she has proof
of what he wanted. In my case, she said since there’s been so much hype regarding toilet servitude, She would make sure I ate shit, one
way or another. Either my own, hers, her bodyguard, or someone else’s.

I finally decided to schedule a live session with Mistress Auburn. We agreed to meet at a motel. When I finally saw her, I was stunned by
her beauty and the aura of power surrounding her. She was about six feet tall with curly black hair, long legs displayed nicely in a
short black skirt, a tight, white top exposing her abdomen, and she was wearing black platform shoes.

I paid her several hundred dollars which covered the session along with the hotel bill. Since I’m married, she agreed to book the motel
in her name. After paying for the room, she pointed out her bodyguard parked nearby and explained that she would not put up with any
insubordination. If at some point during the session, I got a testosterone rush and attempted to put up a fight, she would push a
button, signaling him and ending the session immediately.

She went to the room and I was ordered to carry several large duffle-bags of paraphernalia to the room. They were big and heavy and it
took me three trips to get everything into the room. Once in the room, she ordered me to strip while she got some of her things ready.

Once I was naked, I was ordered to lie down on he bed on my stomach with my hands behind my back and she immediately bound my wrists
tightly together with a nylon strap like the police use. She bound my ankles the same way and then connected my ankles to my wrists with
bungee cords. When she was done, I was pretty much immobile. She grabbed me by the bungee cord and rolled me off of the bed, onto the
floor. I saw a tape recorder sitting on the nightstand.

“Ok, worm,” she laughed. “I’m recording the introduction as an aural contract. You’re mine for a few hours. You’re going to be my
little, wimpy, shit-eating, piss-drinking, pussy boy. I’m going to torture you by beating you senseless. That includes punishing your
little penis, battering your faggot asshole, punching you, bruising you, pulling out your hair, making you consume bodily wastes – either
yours or mine (at my choosing), and generally humiliating your beyond your wildest expectations. You also agree to allow me to record the
event on film for posterity and to include third parties of my choosing in your discipline. I will keep all pictures and recordings
of these events for my own use but I reserve the right to publish the pictures if it suits my fancy. If you disagree, the session is
immediately over and you forfeit the entire fee. Do you agree, PUSSY-BOY?”

I thought for a second and realized that despite the obvious risks, this was the opportunity of a lifetime. I simply replied, “I agree,
Mistress.” She clicked off the ‘record’ button on the tape recorder 9and put the sole of her platform shoe right on top of my cock. While
I groaned in agony, she just laughed and ground her foot down even harder – making sure to twist her foot in a circular pattern to
really tenderize my penis. She stepped up onto my stomach with both feet, placing her hands on the bed for leverage. I cried out in pain
and her reaction was to shift her weight and suddenly, she jammed the thick heel of her platform shoe into my mouth.

“This ought to keep you quiet,” she laughed. She began jamming her thick heel, in and out of my mouth with tremendous force. Tears were
streaming down my face as her heel bruised and cut my lips. This did not seem to bother her one bit and at one point, she plunged her heel down my throat and then applied all her weight to the foot in my mouth, causing the heel to press against the back of my throat and me to gag.

“Don’t you dare vomit,” she declared. “If you do, it will be your appetizer!”

She finally pulled her heel out of my mouth and sat on my chest. I was helpless since my hands were bound behind my back. She reached
for her bag and pulled out a penis gag which she pressed into my bruised and battered mouth and attached around my head.

“This will stifle the screams somewhat,” she laughed. She began slapping me in the face with both hands. When I turned my head, she
grabbed me by the hair and held my head fast with one hand, while punching and slapping me me with the other. Suddenly she ripped a
clump of my hair out, causing me to scream into my gag.

“You keep up this behavior and I’ll start ripping out your pubic hair too!” she threatened.

I knew she was not bluffing. She then reached up and grabbed a clothespin from her bag. To my horror, she pinched my nostrils shut
with the thing. My head was thrashing back and forth as I tried to get what little breath I could from around the penis gag which was
not much. Just when I thought I would pass out, she pulled the clothespin from my nose where I gasped frantically for air.

“You should realize, slave” she said, “Your every breath is an option which I will decide whether you deserve or not. I have complete power over you. You have committed yourself to a contract and you WILL obey me!”

CBT is for amateurs

She got up and kicked me hard in the balls as she walked over to her bag. She produced a Q-Tip and some Ben Gay cream. She pulled the
cotton end of the Q-Tip off and dipped it into the Ben Gay. She walked over to me and sat down hard onto my stomach, facing my cock.
Grasping my penis with one hand, she began inserting the Q-Tip down into my urethra. It felt cool at first but gradually began burning.
It started burning more and more to the point where tears were running down my face and I was screaming into my gag. Meanwhile, she
took out some string and began tightly wrapping my cock and balls up with it. The combination of the Ben Gay and the tight wrapping caused my cock to throb incessantly with pain unlike any I’ve ever felt before. She opened her back of tricks and produced a bunch of
clothespins which she proceeded to attach to various parts of my body. She attached them to my nipples first, then ears, lips,
cock, and balls.

The flash went off as the first picture was taken for her amusement. I was in complete agony which seemed to be just fine with her.
Threatening even more severe and possibly permanent bodily harm if I screamed, she removed the penis gag and pulled out a small lunch box. She began eating a sandwich, asking me if I was hungry. When I admitted between groans that I was, she ordered me to open my mouth
and then spit a mouthful of her food into my waiting mouth. She repeated this several times and then pulled out a baby bottle.

You will now drink my piss” she laughed.

She inserted the nipple into my mouth and held the bottle as I had the first gulp of her warm piss. My face contorted due to the warmth
and bitterness but this only caused her to squeeze the bottom which forced her piss into my mouth at an even greater rate! When I had
finished with her urine, I begged her to let me use the bathroom. She asked me if I had followed her orders regarding my “feedings.” I
replied that according to her orders, I had eaten a large dinner the night before, a midnight snack consisting of a burger and fries, and
a large breakfast earlier this morning.

“Did you take a shit yet?” she asked.

“No, Mistress,” I replied. “That’s why I need to use the bathroom so bad!”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked. “Crawl over to the bathroom.”

I crawled like a worm, all the way into the bathroom. Mistress flipped the seat up and ordered me to sit. I sat down, almost falling
into the water since my hands and feet were still bound. She stood there waiting for me to shit. She kicked me a couple of times in the
shins.

“Come on, pussy-boy. You know you really have to go. Don’t worry about me. Just take a big shit so we can have some more fun!”

I still couldn’t shit in front of her and I just watched her while crying, as she lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in my face. She
suddenly took the cigarette lighter and held the flame close to my balls.

“Have you ever smelled burnt testicles?” she laughed.

As the flame flickered upwards, burning my short and curlys, I suddenly grunted and began emptying myself into the toilet.

“Isn’t that much better?” she asked in a soothing kind of voice.

When I was done, she pulled me off of the toilet and grasping me by the hair, began forcing my face towards the mound of shit in the
bowl.

“Now it’s time for your main course,” she laughed. “I’m going to enjoy watching you bob for shit in the toilet. You’re going to be
quite familiar with white porcelain by the time I’m finished with you!”

She pushed my head down further and then pushed the toilet seat down onto my head, pinning me in place. She pushed down on the toilet
seat, ordering me to eat up. I began crying very hard, telling her that I had reached my limits to which she scoffed. I begged and
pleaded with her not to go through with any of this.

She curtly replied, “You’ve signed your contract and we’ve entered into an agreement. You can beg, whine, plead and squirm all you want
but I’m still going to push your cruddy head into the toilet and make sure you eat what you paid for!”

With that, she picked me up by the hips and shoved me – Face first into the toilet bowl. I could see, smell, and taste the foul
excrement as it floated by. I began gulping down my own shit as she took pictures of the event.

“Oh, little boy”, she cooed. “You look so gross with shit in your mouth. I guess since you’re not worth a turd, it’s only fitting that
your face is in the toilet along with the rest of the shit.” As she laughed and took more pictures, I gagged and vomited into the
toilet bowl.

“Oh poor thing”, she laughed. “You must be so hungry to have prepared even more food for yourself. You will eat everything including your
own vomit. But don’t worry, our session’s almost half over!”

She laughed hysterically at that point as I gulped a combination of my own shit and vomit from the toilet bowl. Every time I would come
up for air, she would step on the back of my head and force my face back down into the murky waters.

“I’m not letting you up until you’ve eaten what you agreed to,” she laughed.

Meanwhile, I continued to chew and swallow my own sludge to the chorus of her taunts of “toilet-boy”, “sewer-rat”, “commode-man”, and
whatever else she could think of to humiliate me. When I finally finished to her satisfaction, she ordered me into the shower where
she pushed me to my knees and turned on the hot water.

“I don’t want to hear any of your whining, toilet-boy”, she said. “You smell like the filthy pig that you are and I want to wash
off at least some of your stench.”

Despite my grimaces of pain from the scalding I was taking, she just stood there smoking her cigarette and tapping her foot anxiously.
When she was satisfied, she suddenly switched to cold water which chilled me to the bone. When I attempted to crawl out, she shoved me
back in with her platform shoe.

“You’ll get out when I say you can get out,” she ordered.

She turned off the water and tossed a towel into the shower, ordering me to dry off. This was quite difficult being bound up the way I was but I managed to roll around on top of the towel which partially dried me off. When I was done, she ordered me to crawl out of the tub and kneel next to the bed. She attached a choke collar around my neck and locked a small chain from my collar to the bed-frame. There was just enough slack for me to lie on the floor but not enough to reach the phone or the door.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a jar of piss in which a tampon was floating. Ordering me to open my mouth, she took the
tampon out of the jar and inserted it into my mouth which she covered in duct tape. She took the roll of duct tape and began wrapping it
around my body starting with my feet. She was pulling it extremely tight while she methodically began taping up my feet, then my ankles,
my calves, my knees, my thighs, my groin, my hips, my stomach, my chest, arms, and neck. I was wrapped so tightly that I could barely
breathe. I began whimpering which was extremely difficult with the tampon in my mouth but she only laughed and took a few pictures of my
plight. As I laid in pain and discomfort, she began eating again. Every once in awhile, she would kick me in the groin just to let me
know she hadn’t forgotten about me!

After a little while she said, “Oh, it’s time!”

She reached into her bag and took out a pie tin and walked off towards the bathroom. I didn’t hear a toilet flush and when she came
back into the room, she was not carrying the tin anymore. However, she positioned her ass above me and ripped the duct tape off of my
mouth, causing me to squeal in agony.

She ordered, “Slave, spit out my tampon. You have proven your worth in the bathroom. Now it’s time to become one with my shit!”

She began lowering her ass above my face as I smelled the stink of her feces.

“I want you to lick me clean,” she said.

I knew that there was no backing out and I began licking the shit from her ass. It was clumped up and down her ass-crack and she made a
point of rubbing her ass all over my face and hair. When she was satisfied, walked back to the bathroom and brought out the pie tin –
this time filled with her shit!

She sat the tin in front of me, picked up the camera and said, “What are you waiting for? I thought it was your divine fantasy to consume
my bodily wastes?”

I lowered my head towards the tin as her platform shoe pressed my face into her feces. She mashed my face in it and took several
pictures of my face, her shoe, and her shit.

“Eat it, motherfucker!” she screamed.

I began crying again.

“Mistress, I’m worried about disease. I could get HIV, Hepatitis, or other various illnesses from this type of thing…”

She looked down at me incredulously and screamed, “LOOK YOU FUCKING WORM! This was your fantasy, not mine. You’re the one supposedly into
shit. I’m just giving you your money’s worth. It’s a fuckin’ insult for you to be accusing me of having some filthy disease. If anyone
should worry it’s me. NOW GET FUCKING GOING AND EAT YOUR FUCKING MEAL. YOU WILL NOT LEAVE UNTIL YOU DO!”

I had reached my limit. I couldn’t take it anymore. I suddenly thought of my wife and kids and I looked up at her with my face
covered in her shit and shook my head no.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked. “You dare disrespect me in this way?”

I determinedly shook my head up and down.

“Fine,” she said. “Session’s over.”

She reached into her bag and put on a pair of rubber dish-washing gloves. She reached into the bowl and picked up a handful of shit
which she smushed against my face as I screamed and struggled with my bonds. She was screaming at me and calling me names while smearing
her shit on my lips, in my nose and eyes, and in my hair. When she was satisfied, she grabbed the duct tape and began taping my head.
She wrapped the tape around my neck, chin, mouth, nose, eyes, and the rest of my head, completely covering my head except for a small
opening over my nostrils. I could not see but I heard her take off the gloves and felt them hit me in the face. I heard her packing up
as I tried to call out to her, wondering if she was going to unwrap me. I heard a knock at the door and her saying, “Come in.”

I heard her bodyguard’s voice and some rustling around as began packing up her stuff. After he left she jammed her foot into my
crotch and while applying extreme pressure to my cock and balls said, “I hope you’re satisfied, pussy-boy. You’ve just earned a place
in my hall of shame. I’ll be posting these pictures on the Internet and sending them to your wife and your place of employment. You could
have been an obedient slave but you had to be a smart-ass and go back on our agreement. Well, all good things must come to an end.”

I heard her open the door and as she was leaving she turned and said, “Oh, and by the way, say hello to the maid service tomorrow morning!”

I heard her cackling as the door slammed shut and I contemplated my future.

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