It was a normal day at the corporate office, and James was making his way to the designated human toilet room. His job was simple: he had to serve as a toilet bowl for anyone who needed relief during their busy day. He entered the dimly lit room slowly, feeling the cool, tiled floor beneath his feet.
The human toilet room was occupied by another man, already bound to the ground with restraints. James saw that the man didn't look too well; his face was pale, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Without any greeting, the previous user pushed open the door and stumbled out. She was a stern-looking businesswoman, dressed in a crisp pantsuit and carrying a briefcase.
She barely acknowledged James as she rushed towards the human toilet. Without any hesitation, she yanked down her panties and started to push. James could feel the pressure building up inside his stomach; it was going to be a big one. He looked up at the woman, her asshole winking at him as she grunted and pushed again.
Finally, a thick, rancid tube of shit slithered out of her asshole and into James's gaping mouth. It was an intense taste, one that made his eyes water and his stomach churn. He could feel the putrid mixture filling his mouth, coating his tongue, and filling every crevice of his mouth.
As the woman finished relieving herself, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Without a second thought, she flicked the ash onto James's face. He didn't mind; he was used to it. His job was to be the ultimate servant, and that meant enduring whatever his masters threw at him.
However, this particular session took a toll on him. The woman had eaten an especially fragrant diarrhea for lunch, and it was difficult to contain. As she walked away, her heels clacking against the tiled floor, James felt a warm, uncomfortable sensation in his stomach. He tried his best to push the remnants down, but it was no use.
The shit began to overflow, spilling out over the sides of his mouth and onto the floor. He didn't mind; it was part of his duty. As soon as he could move, he scooped up the mess with his bare hands and swallowed every last bit of it. He felt empty again, but there was always another session waiting for him.
James looked up at the clock on the wall; it was almost time for his next user. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and braced himself for what was to come. This job was challenging, dangerous, and revolting, but it was also strangely addictive. He was addicted to the power, the control, and the sheer humiliation of serving as a human toilet. And as long as there were people who needed to shit, James knew that he would always have a job.
