First days of life as a toilet bowl were undoubtedly the most difficult for me. Getting used to lying still, waiting for someone to come and take a shit or piss in my filthy toilet mouth was not easy. But for some reason, it was also the most interesting and exciting part for me. All the problems that arose during these first days brought me immense pleasure and emotional surges. I remember feeling as though there was a living latrine under my ass, eagerly swallowing all my shit without chewing.
"You're latrine, open your mouth, eat shit. You're a toilet, a toilet bowl, a latrine. You're lying with your head in the toilet, your mouth open, waiting for someone to come in and use you. You don't have your own thoughts or desires. You only think about one thing - how to please your masters."
These were the words that constantly echoed in my mind. They were my new reality, my identity. I was nothing more than a living commode, used by others for their own pleasure. And yet, there was something strangely thrilling about it. The feeling of being desired, needed - even if it was for the most disgusting of reasons - was addictive.
As time went by, I learned to accept my new role as a toilet bowl. I learned to anticipate each visit, each degrading act that was about to be inflicted upon me. And above all, I learned to please my masters by swallowing their shit without question or hesitation.
One day, I felt a warm presence behind me. I recognized it immediately – it was the beautiful young slave girl who had been using me regularly in the past weeks. Her perfect ass fell softly on the cold toilet seat, and I braced myself for what was about to come.
Her anus inflated several times, opening like a blooming bud. And then, thick, fragrant shit began to crawl into my mouth. It was soft and warm, coating my tongue and teeth as it made its way down my throat. I chewed and swallowed the stinky food, savoring every moment of it.
"Latrine, be prepared, anything could shit any time," she warned me, her voice barely audible over the sound of her shitting.
As if on cue, another figure appeared in the doorway - this time, it was my master himself. He advanced towards me, his cock already hard and lewd. Without saying a word, he lowered his pants and underwear, and I could see his big, bulging balls hanging low between his thighs.
Without further ado, he positioned himself above me and began to piss, aiming straight into my waiting mouth. The warm, stinging liquid filled my mouth and trickled down my throat, making me gag and cough. But I never hesitated. I swallowed every drop of his piss, savoring the taste of his dominance.
This was my life now - a never-ending cycle of humiliation, degradation, and submission. But even as I lay there, still filled with the taste and smell of shit and piss, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride.
