I, Mistress Sabina, decided to use my slave during my weekend trip. This time, I wanted to try something new, something that would push his boundaries even further. A few days before the trip, I went out and bought a long, flexible plastic bottle tube. My plan was to attach it to my slave's face so that he could be used as a living toilet bowl.
The weekend arrived, and I packed my bags, making sure to include everything my slave would need for his "privileged" task. We drove to a hotel outside of town, where I booked a room with a large bathtub. As soon as we arrived, I had my slave kneel down beside the bed while I unpacked our belongings.
I instructed him to remove his clothes, revealing his naked body. He trembled with anticipation, knowing what was in store for him. I then fastened the plastic tube around his head, securing it behind his neck. His eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen.
"Now, slave," I said, my voice calm but commanding. "I need to take a shit. You are going to be my personal toilet for the weekend."
His face turned pale as he realized his mistress's intention. He knew better than to protest or disobey, so he simply nodded in submission.
I grabbed a toilet brush from the bathroom and pushed it into the bowl, coating it with my warm feces. Then, I guided the head of the plastic tube into the toilet bowl and positioned it in front of his open mouth. I squeezed the contents of the toilet onto the end of the brush, and with a flick of my wrist, sent the mess flying into my slave's mouth. He gagged and choked as the disgusting mixture filled his mouth, but he couldn't move or spit it out.
Throughout the weekend, I used my slave as my personal toilet whenever I needed to defecate. Sometimes, I would add new elements to his ordeal, such as soapy water or chocolate syrup. I took pleasure in watching him suffer and degrading him in the most humiliating ways imaginable.
On the final day of our trip, I rewarded my slave with a piece of sweet chocolate cake. I attached the end of the tube to the cake, cutting out small pieces that fit perfectly into my slave's "toilet mouth." He closed his eyes gratefully, savoring the delicious flavor of the cake as it passed through his mouth, unaware of the feces and urine that had already passed through it.
As the weekend came to an end, I removed the tube from my slave's head, releasing him from his living nightmare. I left him there, kneeling in the same spot where he had started, emotionally and physically exhausted but forever changed by his experiences as my living toilet.
