A few days ago, I found myself in another city, visiting an old friend. We spent the day exploring the city's rich history and indulging in its gastronomic delights. In the evening, we attended a party where we sampled some of the local cuisine. It was an exhilarating experience, and by the time we returned to our hotel room, I was craving something else entirely.
I had always fantasized about having my own living toilet. Someone who could be at my beck and call whenever I felt the urge to eliminate waste from my body. So, when we returned to our hotel room, I sent a message to my local living toilet, informing him of his duties for the next morning.
The next morning, he arrived promptly at the hotel, nervous but eager to please. Dressed in an aura of subservience, he awaited my instructions. I took my time in ordering breakfast, savoring every bite and sip as he trembled before me.
Finally, I rose from my seat and motioned for him to come closer. With a shaky hand, he unbuttoned my pants, revealing his true purpose for the day. He leaned forward, his mouth watering with anticipation while I eased myself onto the throne of his open mouth.
The warmth of his tongue and the sensation of pleasure were indescribable. I took my time, savoring the moment as he eagerly massaged my legs. It was almost like being at a high-end spa resort. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the moment arrived. I felt the urge to release a massive load into his eager mouth.
Without hesitation, he opened his mouth wide open, ready to receive the first portion of my shit. His enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn't resist teasing him a little more. I squirted the first portion of my hot shit directly into his open mouth. He swallowed it down eagerly, asking for more.
His second request came with a surprise. As he reached his hand into my pants, another massive portion of shit hit his tongue. This time, he was caught off guard, turning blue as he started choking on the mound in his mouth. It was exhilarating, watching him struggle to keep up with the enormity of what he had taken on.
I couldn't let him soil the floor; after all, we were in a hotel room, and who knew what kind of consequences we might face. So, I pulled out my trusty whip and started beating him, urging him to swallow faster. Each strike of the whip drove him deeper into humiliation, but also brought him closer to fulfilling his purpose.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he finished his meal. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he struggled to catch his breath. With one last push, he forced the last of my load down his throat, causing him to gag and splutter uncontrollably.
I smiled satisfactorily, knowing that my lesson had been learned. With a wave of my hand, he was banished from my presence, leaving behind a trail of shame and humiliation. For the rest of the day, I relished in the memory of our encounter, knowing that I had found the perfect match for my less-than-appetizing needs.
