As the late-night party raged on, Natalia Kapretti found herself in need of relief. She wandered down the dimly lit hallway, feeling a gentle stirring between her thighs. Her heart was pounding with anticipation, knowing what she wanted—and needed—to do.
With a determined sway to her hips, she pushed open the door to the nearest bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light. She was too focused on finding the one thing that would satisfy her insatiable desires—the toilet.
Her heels clacked against the cool tile as she made her way to the only stall that was occupied. With a smirk on her lips, she pulled down the handle, flushing away whatever was inside. A gentle whiff of the lingering scent made her wetter.
"What, are you waiting for me, toilet?" she purred, leaning in close so her soft breath caressed the ceramic bowl. "Open your mouth, I'm going to shit in it."
Her words were like a dare, thrown down for the voiceless object to accept or deny. But the toilet didn't speak—it couldn't refuse her. And so, Natalia lifted her lacy black dress up over her plump derriere and positioned herself above the waiting mouth.
She closed her eyes, reveling in the knowledge of what was about to happen. She released a long, slow breath as she felt the pressure building within her. And then, with a satisfied grunt, she let go.
The warm, soft mass of her shit fell into the waiting abyss, splashing against the sides of the bowl. For a moment, she basked in the smell of her own excrement, feeling deeply connected to the act.
"Oh, how nice." she cooed, her voice like honey dripping from her lips. "What a beautiful shit I shat."
For a few blissful moments, she remained in her position, enjoying the sensation of being weightless. And then, with a gentle tug, she pulled her dress back down and stepped away from the toilet.
Her gaze fell heavily upon the object of her affections, and she couldn't help but laugh. There it was, waiting for her to do whatever she wanted with it—to use it and abuse it as she saw fit.
"Do you like toilet?" she asked, her tongue tracing the outline of her plump, red lips. "Come on, lick it, suck like a dick, take a bite. Take a bite more."
With a mischievous grin, she reached out a finger and poked at the lighter brown mass in the center of the toilet bowl. "See that?" she purred, pulling her finger away to show a small smear of feces on the tip. "That's just the tip of the iceberg."
She wanted him to see it, to understand what she was offering—and asking for. And in that moment, she knew he did. He may have been a toilet, but he was her toilet, and he would do as sheasked.
"I'll have to retrain you to take shit," she teased, walking towards the door. But before she could open it, she turned back one last time. "Don't worry, I've got all night."
