Loading...Goodness knows why I have this fetish, but I do have it, so I have to live with it. What is it? Well it’s the desire to eat shit. It must be from a dominant female mistress and maybe it’s more to do with being totally submissive than it is to do with the actual eating. I think this desire has been with me for a very long time and now I would like to tell you, how I turned desire into reality.
I thought it wasn’t possible to realise my desire until whilst browsing through a contact magazine I saw a mistress advertising Hard Sports.
Up until now I thought I was the only person in the world weird enough to have this fantasy but this was obviously not the case if these adverts were appearing openly.
I contacted the lady in question and explained that I wanted to be dominated and humiliated and that my ultimate desire was to be used as a human toilet. Mistress A confirmed that it was all possible and that I just needed to set the time and date.
Time passed and a few weeks later I felt that I was ready to make the call to Mistress A. I was ready to set in motion the events that would see me being used as a human toilet. No point in wasting any more time; I called her and arranged an appointment for the following Thursday when I would be in London.
The days passed and I was in a state of heightened tension; on the one hand longing for the event to happen and on the other hand just plain frightened. Would I be able to go through with it? Would it make me ill? Would I catch some awful disease? Finally Thursday came and my depraved desire overcame my fear and I was ready. I made my trip to London and attended to my business throughout the morning leaving me free for the 2 pm meeting with fate. I hurried across to Earls Court and soon found my self knocking on the door of the basement apartment. My heart was pounding and I was shaking as though I had a fever.
The door was answered and I was ushered in without much chance to glimpse Mistress A but as she followed me into the front room I caught my first sight of her. What excuses I would have made if she had been unacceptable as my donor I don’t know, but joy of joys she was impressive; a dark skinned lady in her early thirties with a harsh but attractive face.
We had discussed my requirements briefly on the phone but I now laid out in detail what I hoped for. I felt it was appropriate to kneel in front of her and drop my gaze to the floor before speaking. As I recall this was my plea. “Mistress I want to be your slave, I want to be abused, humiliated and used but above all I want to be a toilet to be used by you.”
Mistress A seemed satisfied by this and an appropriate fee was handed over. I was ordered to strip and throw my clothes in to a plastic dustbin at the side of the room. I accomplished this without leaving my knees and then crawled back over to her whereupon she pushed my head back so that I was looking at her, she slapped me twice across the face and then she spat twice onto my face and said, “You are my fucking slave; you are mine to do with as I please; as I walk round the room you will crawl round behind me and every time I stop you will kiss my ass.” Mistress wore a black corset, black lacy panties, high heels and black stockings. I crawled as fast as my little knees would allow me and kissed that ass every time I got a chance. After five minutes of this Mistress attached a slave collar to me and then dragged me into the back room where all sorts of BDSM items were arrayed round the room.
She made me kneel in the corner with my ass up high in the air, then she proceeded, with the aid of some cream, to see how many fingers she could insert into my anus. One finger, two fingers, three fingers; nearly four. “What a disappointment you are slave,” she said. “I was hoping to get my whole fist up.” She crouched down and whispered in my ear, “Next time slave I want to get my fist in, so before you come back next time get working on that ass to open it up; do you understand slave?”
I managed a reply, saying that I would work hard to get my ass opened wide enough so that next time I called she would be able to insert her whole hand. Next I was dragged to a whipping bench and strapped in place. I dutifully counted each of the twelve strokes she administered with the cane and thanked her for each one. She confided in me that caning was her favourite activity. I wanted to take another dozen strokes, to keep her happy, but had to keep the marking to a minimum so that the wife wouldn’t discover my secret.
Mistress now sat down on a seat, removed her panties and splayed her legs wide. I was made to kneel before her so I could gaze on the wondrous sight of her fully exposed pussy. She leant forward, tilted my head back and spat into each eye; the spit dribbled down my face. “Now slave beg me to carry on with your training; make it clear and concise so I know exactly what is required.”
I responded by saying “Mistress I want you to use me as your toilet. I want to drink your pee, I want to eat your shit and I want you to use my mouth as you please. I beg you to use me. Please use me. Please, please, I want to be your human toilet.”
This seemed to please her and Mistress led me across to the other side of the room where her toilet box was. It was just a wooden box with a hole in the top and a toilet seat in place; on the front wall there was a place for me to put my head through and on each side of the box were manacles. Sitting in the base of the toilet box was a shallow tray. I lay on my back and edged my head into the opening so that my head was resting on the tray. Mistress attached my wrists to the manacles so that I couldn’t escape.
I had an extreme hard on and my level of excitement was sky high. I was about to achieve my number one fantasy; I was about to eat shit, I was about to be humiliated in the most extreme way, I was about to take up a role in life that I had always been destined for; I was to become a toilet; a human toilet.
Mistress placed a condom on my rampant prick and then lowered herself down onto the toilet seat. Now, sitting six inches above me, in all its glory was my mistress’s ass. “Slave,” she said. “Lot’s of men come here and want to do what you are going to do; lots of men think they can do it but when they get the first taste they bottle out. What about you slave, can you do it, can you be my toilet? If you want to back out say it now!”
I was totally convinced I could do it so replied as convincingly as I could, “Mistress I wan to do it. This is it; no more talking or stalling; I am here where I should be, ready to eat shit.”
Mistress leaned forward so that her pee hole was over my mouth and after a minute she released a stream of pee; it was a mess of pee and I ardently drank as much as I could. It came in such a gush that some spilled over the side of my mouth and into the tray so that the back of my head now rested in a pool of piss. I’ve drunk urine before and always enjoy it. I like the taste of lady pee; it’s sweet, it’s lovely. Finally the stream reduced to a trickle and then came to an end; the pee was finished.
Now Mistress leaned back so that her asshole was above my face. I was fascinated by her ass, I watched as it puckered and strained, a little spot of brown appeared in the centre, it grew in size and started to come out into the world, then it disappeared back in again as mistress relaxed. Again the same thing happened but this time the brown spot got bigger till it finally began to emerge as a turd. Frustration! It popped back in again. I so desperately wanted to eat shit. Another appearance was made, this time the brown log kept coming till it reached that non returnable point. I got the full smell now and it was vile, just as shit should be. I strained to make sure my mouth was open as wide as possible. The turd hung there getting bigger and bigger but not letting go of its owner. It was hovering just above my lips. Then with a grunt and a squeeze Mistress let it drop.
It was thick, it was about four inches long; it was brown and putrid and it was in my mouth. I was a toilet at last. It tasted just as bad as shit should; it smelled worse than shit should and it fitted snugly into my mouth. I closed my lips around it. I was wondering what to do when Mistress commanded, “Hold it there slave, don’t chew it, don’t suck it, and don’t be sick.” Minutes passed by. It was so strange to have that shit just sitting in my mouth with the taste invading every sense; taste and smell were all attacked by the pervasive chemistry of her Faeces. “Ok slave,” she whispered, “You may chew now; don’t swallow, just chew.” As ordered I chewed; I started to wretch, I wanted to be sick.
The Mistress looked down at me and ordered, “Don’t be sick slave; fight it. You don’t have permission to be sick. Chew it! Taste your Mistress’s shit; enjoy it; savour it. Don’t swallow just yet. Keep chewing.” Minutes later, “Now you may swallow.”
I swallowed. All my life I had been waiting for this moment; a thousand times I had masturbated and dreamed of this moment; I had plotted it; I had planned it. Now here I was eating lady shit. I was a toilet! The texture was not as I expected, my tongue picked out the shape and form of partially digested food; the shit seemed to stick to my teeth and tongue just like the most sticky piece of toffee. I swallowed and then sucked pieces from between my teeth and swallowed those tiny morsels as well.
Was there more to come I wondered. Oh yes; after a couple of stinking farts Mistress began to deliver turd number two. It was beautiful to watch her sphincter working; expanding and contracting and delivering shit to my mouth. Number two I swallowed whole, numbers three, four and five were all chewed and enjoyed to their fullest extent. Don’t get me wrong I didn’t enjoy the taste; I hated it, but I enjoyed being a toilet for womankind. I was in a place where I should have been all my life, where I should be for the rest of my life. Mistress now wiped her ass and popped the paper into my mouth for me to eat. Now she surprised me by asking if I wanted a blow job; I declined but she insisted and immediately went to work on my cock. With her expert manipulations it wasn’t long before I succumbed and shot my load into the condom. Now, of course, common sense returned and the depravity of my position hit me. I started to wretch and struggle. “STOP,” came the command from Mistress A. “Now it’s time to really appreciate what it’s like to be my toilet.”
Having said that she removed the condom from my cock and emptied the contents into my mouth, and then she turned it inside out and made me suck it clean. Next she leaned over me and started to dribble spit into my mouth, several globs were forthcoming and she managed to cough up a bit extra for me. Now it began to get interesting, she knelt beside me and dipped into the tray under my head. I remembered that during the time I was eating shit some of it had missed and slid down the side of my face. It was these bits that Mistress A now retrieved. She popped each bit into my mouth and without the incentive of a hard cock ruling my head I had to eat the wretched stuff. After that was done I had to lick all the shit of her fingers. Having done this the mistress turned on her heel and left the room, saying as she left, “Have an hour to reflect on what it’s like to be a well used toilet.”
So for a full hour I had to live with the taste of the shit; I had to live with the putrid smell and I had to live with the knowledge that I was truly a toilet.
After fifteen minutes my cock was hard again and common sense had once again left me. I hoped there might be more toilet duties to come. Another forty five minutes passed and Mistress returned. She unlocked my arms and pulled me out from the toilet. To be honest I was ready to be used again but I guess that wasn’t part of the deal. However I was allowed to drink the remains of the pee from the tray before Mistress showed me to the real toilet.
She said I had to be washed down before I could use her bathroom. She got me in front of the toilet bowl and pushed my head down inside; the loo was then flushed twice to wash most of the shit off. I was then allowed to use the bathroom to clean up. I left shortly thereafter and hoped that a handful of extra strong mints was enough to disguise the smell of shit while I made it to some nearby washrooms.
Mistress A was fantastic in her dealings with me; it’s not easy to interact with a pervert such as myself but she kept her dignity at all times. Of course I preserved no dignity which is what I deserved. I suffered no illness in the following days and did not catch any nasty diseases but I think I got lucky. I would not recommend anyone to eat shit as I am sure it can be dangerous. Just keep it as a fantasy and let fools like me go out into the real world and try it.