I was born and raised in Almaty. It is a big and beautiful city. In business, I achieved success, but sexually I was not happy. My wife left me, and many friends could not satisfy. The eastern city with its mentality could not give me what I had dreamed of for a very long time. About toilet slavery.
It fascinated and attracted me always. And the more I thought about him, the more I wanted to become a toilet slave for a young and beautiful lady. However, neither my friends, nor prostitutes even wanted to hear about it. I tried all the ways of convincing them and did not achieve anything except that I took golden rain a couple of times. Little pleasure, just spurred his desire. And that's it!
But once I found an interesting letter on the Internet. And it literally inspired me. She wrote a young, but already experienced Mrs. from Kiev. She reported that she was looking for a permanent toilet slave. At the same time, neither experience nor age had any special meaning. No, I'm not an old man, but I was already forty, and she was only twenty-one. I am a bit complex about this. But since she doesn’t care, it means all the more to me.
I quickly wrote and sent her a letter with my photo and, in order to interest her, I even promised to pay well.
I got the answer quickly. She angrily wrote that I was the last idiot if I decided that I could buy it. She is a mistress, not a prostitute. But I can come and make sure of it. At the end of the letter was her address. Judging by him, she lived in the elite suburb of the Ukrainian capital.
Less than two days later, I flew to Kiev. I didn’t have relatives' houses, but I didn’t tell anything familiar. I flew to meet my desire, and nothing should have prevented me.
Kiev met me with rain. Having gone badly, I knocked at the address given to me.
A large gate was opened by a male guard.
- Who do you want? He asked politely.
“Madam Marina to me,” I replied.
He pointed me to one of the houses in this closed area, and after a minute I knocked on the door number seven. A young girl opened it to me, but it was not the lady. She was wearing a collar.
- Can I see Mrs Marina? - I began. - I'm from Alma-Ata. I assigned.
Without a word, she let me go into the living room and pointed to the sofa. I sat down and waited. The decoration of the room spoke about the wealth of its owner. Yes, and the house was huge, maybe ten or twelve rooms. Two hours later I was invited to the office to Mrs.
She sat at a huge desk. To say that she was beautiful means to offend her. She was beautiful. The correct form of the face, a long and elegant neck.
White, long hair, just gathered in a ponytail. Huge, sky-blue eyes. Clearly contoured, dark eyebrows. And a small sensual mouth. All of this, in combination with a breathtaking figure and a steel glint in his eyes, said - no, screaming, -
that the woman is this lady by blood. The goddess who descended from Olympus to command us, miserable people, unworthy to even kiss her feet. She was perfect. I involuntarily knelt at first on my knees, and then on my stomach. My heart beat like I ran a marathon. In the stomach pleasantly tickled. My friend treacherously tensed.
From somewhere above, I heard a pleasant voice, but with steel intonations:
- Is it you, pig, insulted me in a letter, calling a whore?
“Oh dear ...” I began. - Of course not. I did not want…
- Shut up! - interrupted her cry.
She got up from the table. Oh creator, what a shape it was! A well-groomed leg poked into my lips.
- In punishment, lick my sandals.
I rushed to fulfill her desire. I have never shown such zeal. Never! If you touch these feet — punishment — then may I always be so punished. Having finished with one shoe, I set to work on another.
Mrs. smiled, apparently, she liked me. Two minutes later, she interrupted me.
- Enough! It's time for you to describe your future.
And she told me things that I could not believe!
I was accepted to be a slave, a toilet slave. And after all the formalities were settled, I had to start learning. By formalities she understood the signing of the contract under which all my property and I myself transferred to her full ownership. Once and for all. I could never leave her house again. And in my legal status, I fell into the category of property of a mistress, not separated from the house. So she said "not separated from the house." I did not even suspect that this was said in the most literal sense. I was just intoxicated with her beauty, so I signed everything without hesitation. I gave her everything!
Mrs. immediately lost interest in me, entrusting me to her slave, Angela. True, the fact that her name is so, I learned already later. And Mrs. called her just rubbish.
The hostess presented me as “our new toilet” and ordered me to prepare for the first phase of training.
I didn’t see my full-length lady anymore. And kept her figure only in memory. She became my first and last love.
The girl took me to the basement. She seemed pretty nice to me, but very uncommunicative. My questions were answered in monosyllables: “yes” or “no.” The only thing that I managed to find out is that all the servants in the house are very happy that I appeared. Otherwise, the lady could appoint one of them as a toilet slave.
Downstairs she told me to undress and climbed into the green box, standing on high legs. The box was two meters long, a meter wide, and seventy-eighty centimeters high. He looked strange.
- What is it? - I asked her.
“You start your training,” Angela replied.
Then everything was like in a dream. I realized that an unusually high box placed its ceiling on the floor of the first floor. That is, straight to the toilet. A large plastic pipe is used to remove waste. In a word, it was my new workplace. And this means that today I will serve my mistress.
With great difficulty, I squeezed inside this structure, whose dimensions vividly inspired my thoughts about the grave comfort. But it was still half the trouble. The main problem was the smell.
The stench of the toilet, in which no one has cleaned for a long time. There was indeed a hole at the top, or rather the end of a pipe that went far upwards. Directly beneath it stood a bucket tightly attached to the box floor. And it was half filled with filth, which stank ...
Angela told me that the first stage of training is to get used to the smell of sewage: shit and urine. In the house of Mrs. live four girls slaves and their boss. All of them, except Mrs., will be emptied in a special toilet on the first floor, from where their excretions will fall into this bucket. I will have to spend a week here, throwing shit from a bucket into a special pipe, the hole of which was located in the middle of the box. There I will have to celebrate my natural needs.
I spend a whole week alone here. I will not see a single person, not even a single part of the body. Only sometimes sewage will fall into the bucket, and then I will understand that there was someone upstairs in the toilet. They will feed me by dropping food and drink in a plastic bag in the same way. In short, the situation could not be worse.
When the girl left, I felt completely forgotten. I do not know how I stood this week. It was the most difficult stage of training and I almost went insane. Days and nights mixed up then. I lived in complete darkness, in cramped kennel and dead silence. Only from time to time falling impurities said that there was someone nearby.
The week seemed like an eternity. But she was not in vain. The sensations of the stench that tormented me so much in the first days were blunted. Rather, I'm used to it. Even his food could easily absorb, surrounded by shit. Nausea has passed. Yes, and every kind of disgust, too. You know, hunger is not aunt. When they came for me, I was no longer a man. And they stopped treating me like that. Even the slaves of the mistress looked at me with undisguised contempt.
The second stage of training did not suggest loneliness. On the contrary, I was chained to the battery in the toilet for the servants. And I saw all the inhabitants of the house, except Mrs. They were few. The older girl with short red hair was Gerda. I do not know if this was her real name, but the rest of the slave addressed her that way. She led the whole house. And in the absence of the hostess was always the main one. Her character was the worst, she tormented me the most.
By the way, the second stage of training was to kill the last remnants of self-esteem in me. Wipe my ego into powder. And the most turn into an inanimate object, ready for anything. And all the women at home doing this zealously. In addition to Gerda, there were two twenty-twenty-five years old Moldavians living here: the Beast and the Bitch. I don’t know their real names. Another very young girl wore the name Sykuha. I do not know how old she was, but I think not more than fifteen. She was the most powerless and, probably, therefore the kindest to me. The last girl — and I’ve seen her before — was called Rubbish. Her real name is Angela, - she was born in Kherson. All of them were staff servant Mrs. All of them were her unconditional property and carried out any orders at home. Gerda was the eldest, but she was only the slave of the mistress. These girls occupied an unquestionably higher place in the caste structure built by the mistress of the house than me. For them, slaves, I was just a thing, an inanimate object. Rather, it should have been such with their help. And they tried full. They could give me a slap or just kick as they walked past. They pinched, dragged my hair, beat me. And all this was done with complete contempt.
I was tied to a pipe near the toilet itself, and I always witnessed all their bowel movements. They did not hesitate at all. Did not even notice. But even though I was at arm's length before them, I could not touch. My hands were tied behind my back, and there was a gag in my mouth. I was immovable. Only could that turn his head. By the way, this was also done by chance. My limbs, or rather, their functions and movements were not needed by my mistress. I have her future toilet and nothing more.
I was no longer fed at all. For a few days I received only a little water and that's it. And then, when the colic in the stomach reached its apogee, offered a little porridge interspersed with shit. And I saw the whole process of its preparation. Gerd was relieved in a small pot of porridge, and Sykuha mixed everything up. I ate this mass in small portions during the day. It always went like this. Any of the girls entering the toilet scooped the contents of the pan with a special spoon and popped it into my mouth. Then she did her business and left. At first, everyone did this, but then every day one of them stopped doing that. And although Gerda came to the bathroom every day, I received less and less food. At the beginning of the next week already two girls - Gerda and Bitch - were relieved into the pan. And the level of porridge decreased markedly. I always wanted to eat. I even went to the toilet less often than usual - probably, my body tried to digest everything, trying to squeeze out the maximum of useful substances from the burda that fed me. Soon urine was also added to my diet. This was done simply. One of the girls urinated alternately in a jug of water and during the day I could absorb it without restriction through a special tube. When it ended, it was filled again. But the water every day also became less. And it was the law. With each new week I received less real cereal and water, but more urine and shit ... And by the end of the week my diet was falling sharply. So I was always hungry.
After three weeks, I swallowed solid shit and drank only urine. My own shit got horrible color and smell. And I just urinated with muddy liquid. Well, that was great thought out the disposal system for my waste. I did everything at once into a large pipe, on which I was constantly attached. The days were very monotonous. And only once was the day unusual, when, as a punishment, the madam sent her personal lick as a punishment to the toilet for servicing slaves. He spent the whole day in my closet, licking between the legs of the girls. It was a rather unremarkable subject, shaved and completely devoid of body hair. But the most terrible thing was the tattoo on his chest: “slave-lizun”. And on the ass stood the stamp of Mrs.: the image of a capital letter "M" and handcuffs. As far as I saw, none of the girls had such marks. They marked only men. So, soon my turn.
And even though Lizun spent all day with me, we didn’t talk. I simply could not speak: the gag interfered, which was taken out only when I ate. And he tried not to notice me at all. Maybe he was ordered not to talk to me, I do not know. However, I was very jealous of him. He was able to move. And I pretty excited, watching as he skillfully licks ass girls after they go to the toilet. It even seemed to me that on that day the housewives often ran up to us. I think the wrong post I chose.
But everything has the property ends. Ended and this stage of my training. And again my tormentors achieved their goal: I could not move normally now and my only desire was to eat. Eat even their shit, just to fill your belly. By the way, and my body is accustomed to this diet. And if at first he was vigorously protesting with strong pains, he now resigned himself. And I really hoped that he received the minimum of substances that he needed. Yes, I forgot to say that every evening from the moment I switched to such a diet, I was given two pills. But their purpose was not explained.
The third stage after the first two, was a sheer trifle. I was dragged to another room. They washed and tied to a bench on wheels. A plastic pipe was placed between my legs so that I could go there in a small and large way. Hands and feet tightly strap. And pushed the bench. Now I was fixed in the toilet.
The lid opened and I saw Gerda's face. She put a transparent funnel into the toilet with a large hole at the end. And diligently secured the back vertex of the cone in my mouth. I could only slightly move the funnel, but could not push it out of my mouth. This was the last stage of my training, the purpose of which was, firstly, to teach me to swallow everything, regardless of quantity, secondly, to finally accustom the body to an immobilized state and, thirdly, to realize the irreversibility of my transformation.
I do not remember how much I stayed there. The only thing I remember is constant darkness and almost complete silence. True, several times a day the toilet lid was opened and my food got into my mouth. But more often there was a feeling of oppressive loneliness and darkness. They crushed and oppressed me. And therefore I met with great joy another guest, who gave me his gifts. Neither taste nor smell have played any role for me. I wanted only one thing: to see them as often as possible and serve them.
They achieved their goal. I became a toilet. Man-toilet.
Once, when I was sleeping, the toilet lid opened. I opened my mouth as usual. But did not see anyone's ass. On the contrary, my lady looked at me. She was gorgeous again. Thinking that she would use me, I opened my mouth as wide as possible. But she only smiled her Hollywood smile and turned to Gerda, who stood beside her:
- I see he is ready! You tried hard. Were there any learning difficulties? - was heard to me.
- No, madam, everything went smoothly.
“We need to finish everything already,” the voice was beautiful. - Do a modification and install it at the top.
Gerda said something, but I did not hear. When Mrs. she spoke in a half-whisper.
“Yes, remove the old, it is no longer needed,” the lady told her. - You can use it here.
And they left. I kept thinking that they would be back soon. But when the toilet lid opened again, someone's priest was looking at me. I opened my mouth and accepted my food. Probably, all the vision about Mrs. was a dream.
After a while I was removed from the toilet. And right on the bench to which I was tied, they drove somewhere. Soon I was in a small underground room, which smelled strongly of medicines. Slave Trash, which brought me, came out. Gerda and the creature remained. Both were in medical coats. True, it was difficult to call them snow white. They were clean, but very washed out. I was frightened by the serious faces of the girls and the abundance of medical instruments, but I could not do anything. I was given two shots and I fell asleep.
I woke up in the toilet. For some reason, his shoulders and hips hurt. And my tongue could not find any teeth marks. A terrible guess struck me. My development in the role of a human toilet has ended. I lost forever my legs, arms, teeth ... and God knows what. I was no longer fit for anything other than performing my direct duties — absorbing any waste by the lady. I got what I once so passionately and keenly wanted. My dream has come true. But only now I realized how monstrous she was. And how much I gave for its implementation.
Suddenly the toilet lid opened and I saw a mirrored ceiling. It was another room. Completely different. Very rich decor and decoration. And I saw the reflection of my mistress on the ceiling. She took off her pants. Soon I saw her ass over my head. My ministry has begun. My past life forever went into oblivion. The world has changed for me forever.