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Human Toilet

Aspirant has one of the longest running journals by a male slave on the web.

Here he writes of one of the means that he and the woman he calls Master reconnected to their roles:

I served as her toilet for much of the week. This was new. She has peed on me before, and sometimes made me drink some. But this week, for several days, every time she needed to pee, I layed semi-prone on the floor with a funnel in my mouth and looked up at her as she smiled, positioned it appropriately, and and emptied her bladder into my mouth. I think I drank more piss this week than all I’ve had in the years before.

It is one thing to be faced with a small amount, to know I must get through it and then it will be done. It is quite different to have a full bladder, and to know that there will be another, and another, and another. Sometimes I trembled there between her legs, overwhelmed by feelings that are hard to put words to. It made a regular, profound reminder of my place in our relationship.

Hers

2 comments to Human Toilet

  • michael g.b.

    being a :Human Tolet” is perhaps one of the highest aspirations a male-sub slave can hope to achieve . .. well, not “achieve” because really it is a gift that is granted or bestowed upon the slave by its Goddess/Mistress/Owner . . . and a gift which should be not only experienced or indulged in and savoredm but one which should be most appreciated by the recipient. and even though it is addictive, nevertheless a slave never knows when or if Goddess will or might grant it ever again (a slave wil always hope and pray and dream of the next grace, but it is ALWAYS the dsiscretion of his Goddess to give or not give).

    it is a “transforming” present . . . once shared with its Goddess, the slave is forever something different than he was before . . .a unique and very special bond/relationship is established between Goddess and slave – a slave finds himself exactly right where he alweays knew he really belonged, his true vocation and reason for existence – to be HER “toilet” . . what greater priviege can a slave hope for?

  • Jackie

    I once served a very large woman, 60 years old and over 300 pounds. She was a true sadist. Some say that large women aren’t sexy, not true. Carol loved to swing the strap, and she let you know it. The first time we met at a nice restaurant, all she could talk about was what she was going to do to me once I was naked in her basement. Not once did she ask me what I wanted. Not once was I ever allowed to cum. It was just understood, that I would show up and I would be at her mercy. She loved it. She was simply a huge, older woman who loved to torture naked men. Everytime I found myself naked and strung up in her basement, I knew it was going to be an erotic experience. Everytime my hands were secure and she knew I was helpless, I could see her face light up. Understand, this was not vanilla. Carol loved the strap and she knew how to use it.
    No love taps, this was full force sadistic strapping. Across my back, my ass and across the thighs. That strap would wrap around and the tip would snap my front. Carol would let go. She would move to the front and strap my chest. Often all you could hear was the swish of the strap, the slap across flesh, my moans, and above it all I could hear Carol laughing. She was having a blast. Understand Carol was not a professional, she did it because it was fun. She was one of a kind. Often times I would watch her. She’s be swinging the strap with one hand, and would have her other hand between her legs fingering her clit. One time I got there at 10:00 she met me at the door with. Get your clothes off and get to the basement. I’ve been thinking about this all morning and I can’t wait to get started.

    Back to the topic. One of Carol’s favorite activities was using me as her toilet. Once she had another lady there and throughout the morning the ladies would say. “I need to pee” I would be taken down and was used as their toilet. Both of them used me as their toilet a couple times. When I left the house, my stomach was full of pee. I loved it.
    Carol actually had a toilet constructed with a clear plastic bottom. I would lay under the toilet with the funnel in my mouth, and I could look up, see her huge pussy, and watch the pee hit the clear funnel and watch as the pee went into my mouth. As trange as this may sound, I took great pride in being her toilet.

    Carol was one of a kind. In all the times I was in her basement, she never apologized for anything she did or was planning to do. (She never went too far and I trusted her completely.) In all that time, I was allowed to eat her to orgasm, but not once did she seem concerned about me. I was never allowed to cum.
    I’d go home and it would hurt to sit down for a week. She was amazing.