Sam always considered himself open-minded, but he never imagined himself being hired as a human toilet for a private party. He stood in the dimly lit room, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety as he waited for the guests to arrive. The room was empty except for him and the portable toilet chair, which was bolted to the ground, immobilizing him.
Soon, the first guests began to arrive—a group of rowdy girls, dressed in revealing outfits and holding drinks in their hands. They giggled and shouted as they filed into the room, their high heels clicking on the hard floor. Sam tried to calm his nerves as he heard the hushed conversation around him. He could tell they were talking about him, but he couldn't make out the exact words.
Suddenly, the door to the room closed, and the girls surrounded him. Without warning, they bound his arms and legs to the chair with thick straps, leaving him completely vulnerable. Sam gasped as he felt his skin prickle with fear. What were they going to do to him?
The first batch of girls took their seats on the chair one by one, and Sam was horrified to see that they were flashing tampons at him. Tampons, still inserted inside their cunts. The smell overwhelmed him, and he struggled against his restraints, but it was no use. He could do nothing but endure it.
As the last girl got up from the chair, Sam thought maybe it was over. But then the second group of girls entered the room—the shitters, as he had heard them call them. They were dressed more conservatively but held buckets in their hands, which he quickly recognized as chamber pots.
One by one, they sat on the toilet bowl and began to shit onto his face. The stench was nauseating, and he felt his gag reflex kicking in. He tried to wriggle free from his bonds, but it was no use. He could do nothing but endure this humiliating assault.
The girls took turns squatting over him, their shit raining down on his face, drenching his clothes in filth. Some of them even pissed on him, the warm liquid adding to the disgusting mix. Sam felt like he was going to vomit, but he forced himself not to. He didn't want to make a scene or disappoint his employers.
After what felt like an eternity, the girls finally left the room, leaving Sam alone with his rank solemn. He shook uncontrollably as he tried to catch his breath, tears streaming down his face. He didn't know how he was going to wash off all the filth or if he'd ever be able to face himself in the mirror again. As he struggled to process what had just happened to him, all he could think about was how much money he had been paid—and how quickly he could leave this job behind.
