It was a warm and cozy evening at my friend's house, filled with delightful conversations over delicious food. As the night progressed, my stomach began to feel uncomfortably full. The wonderful smell of the cooking had me salivating, but it also triggered a ferocious urge to defecate. However, his immaculate bathroom was off-limits due to my fastidiousness. My toilet slave, who'd been following me everywhere for the last three years, knew better than to touch anything without my explicit permission.
I called him over, signaling for him to kneel down beside me. Glancing around nervously, he complied. I started by having him clean my shoes with his tongue, making sure they were spotless for when we returned home. Next, I let out a loud, putrid fart that stank up the whole room. He hesitated for a moment before bending down and maneuvering his face as close to the stench as possible without gagging. He inhaled deeply, savoring every last bit of the repulsive scent before standing up and declaring it satisfactory.
As I reached the climax of my desperation, I told him to get on the floor face-down. My legs trembled as he positioned himself correctly beneath me. Slowly, I lowered myself onto him, feeling his warm body supporting my weight. With a triumphant smirk on my face, I pushed my bare ass against his lips. The gentle parting resistance was almost orgasmic as he started to receive my large, steaming turds into his mouth. It was an intoxicating power trip to feel myself excreting such immense heat and weight onto his tongue and throat.
The first few moments of violation were blissful, but soon enough, the pressure built up within me once more. I had to push harder, making him struggle to accommodate my shit-filled anus. After an eternity of struggle, I finally managed to empty my bowels completely onto him. With a satisfied sigh, I stood up and gazed down at his soiled face.
I commanded him to open his mouth wide, and he obeyed hesitantly. I dumped everything from my own clean bowels onto his tongue, watching as he gagged and fought against the overwhelming taste and texture of his own filth. One by one, he carefully swallowed each piece until his mouth was clear. Only then did I allow him to clean himself and gather the remainders from the floor.
As he tentatively gathered the mess with his fingers, I grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him close. I pressed my mouth against his, forcing our tongues to intertwine in a disgusting dance of filth and submission. Our breaths became heavier; I could feel the heat from his body as he tried to process all that he'd consumed.
Finally, I released him from my grasp, satisfied for now. With his tongue now free, he gagged and retched as he tried to expel whatever remained of my waste. I watched with a mix of amusement and disgust as he spat out clumps of soggy turds mixed with saliva onto the floor. Once he was relatively clean, I told him to gather all the mess into a neat pile and dumped it back into my dirty bowl.
As he stood back up, I took mental note of how his formerly crisp white shirt was now stained with brown splotches that matched his grimy expression perfectly. It was at this moment that I decided to punish him further: no cleansing before we went home tonight. As we walked towards the door, I slapped him hard across the face for good measure, leaving a red handprint on his cheek that would serve as a reminder of our encounter for days to come.
Back in the car, I looked at him in the rearview mirror. His eyes were cast downwards, a haunted look in them that I couldn't help but find arousing. The entire sequence of events played out in my mind, and I knew that this wasn't just about defecating on someone; it was about dominance and control. The thought filled me with an indescribable sense of power, and I couldn't wait to continue pushing that boundry even further in the future.
