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How Most Nights Go/Lawyer Down I know I've talked about how hard it is to find people to use a human toilet. In my experience, it's actually even more difficult than that of others I've seen online. There was a dress up party last night, though too early in October for my tastes, that was littered with gorgeous women. In fact, there were three Lingerie Football League players there, one of whom I've seen and have dreamt about using me. Now, so I don't disappoint you all, I'll add at the end a work of fiction about being a toilet, but I wanted to also pull back the curtain about how difficult finding a user really is. It's gotten so much easier since Monica and I got together, but it's still very difficult. She'll start talking with someone and then eventually she'll bring up the idea of having to go to the bathroom or something along those lines. I saw her talking with the LFL player first, mostly because she knew her from around and knew about my desires. I wasn't far and heard most of the exchange. "I hate when the water splashes up! It's the worst," the LFL player said. Monica replied, "What if you just shit in someone's mouth? There'd be no water splash back!" She looked disgusted, "Yeah... I mean... I'd rather they just fix the toilets." "That's fair. I was just making a joke." "Yeah. No. I just... I would feel so bad for the person down there. My shit REEKS." That's kind of it. You can't really pressure someone into doing this. And that was our night. Monica asked about 30 women in some way if they wanted to shit in a man's mouth and they all, ALL thought it was disgusting. If you put 100 women in a room, I think maybe 2 of them would be happy to shit in a man's mouth, another 5 would do it once and hate it. I'd guess at 5-10% of women out there would try the fetish, but most won't even give it a chance. I was happy we struck out, I'm still sick from eating Kenz's shit for several weeks in a row. For the record, anyone that says there's no health risks is a liar. There are IMMENSE health risks involved, but if both people are clean, then it's ok. Monica does most of that legwork and tries to find any potential illnesses, especially HepC, up front. ---Short fiction story (It's not great because it's a freewrite, but it's better than nothing)--- Freda stocks the kitchen at my law office. She's the definition of "black don't crack". Freda's been doing this for 30 years now, since she was 16. I'm barely older than her tenure here. She's very thick of a woman, heavy and round. She really does have a beautiful face, though. It's like Jada Pinkett Smith with about 200 extra pounds. Freda bent over to pick up some butter out of a box. Her huge butt always grabs my eye... "Hi Freda. Working late, aren't you?" "Hi Mr. Hunter! How you doin'?" "I can't complain," I smiled with a sly grin, "I just made partner..." She ran over and hugged me, "Oh congrats! Congrats!" We talked a bit more and then she got sheepish... "Mr. Hunter... I gotta ask you a favor..." She then explained that her son got caught with an unregistered gun on him, his third strike. It would land him in prison for 25 years. "Would you defend him, sir? I could pay you." "That won't be necessary. He's a part of our family, through you. I'll work pro-bono." And that was it. I would help. She went nuts, the case was easy, and I even knew the prosecutor on the case. Two days later, we had a plea deal for 3 years, likely to be just one and 2 years probation. The young man was thrilled. Freda... Freda pulled me aside. "How am I supposed to be happy?! You was supposed to get him out of prison!" "I couldn't get him NO jail time. He broke the law, but I did get him 1 year." "This is bull... No... No you right. Come through for the celebration barbecue tomorrow. You saved him 24 years, it's only three years in captivity. It could be worse, can't it." I accepted and told her I'd swing by. When I pulled up to the home, I noticed it was in a kind of tough neighborhood. Lots of cars out front, but it didn't seem packed in the house. Weird for a barbecue, right? When I walked inside, three men had guns on me. They had hoods on. "Get on your knees!" Did Freda set me up to get robbed?! They had me get naked and crawl into a weird box looking thing. It strapped my arms and legs down and then there was this bowl looking thing that left my face exposed. I heard them talk about how fucked up this whole thing was, but "Miss Freda kept me off them streets". "You all good Miss Freda. He's not getting out." "Thank you sugah. You a good boy." She walked into the room and I saw all of her large body, "What the hell, Freda?!" "I decided that you couldn't get my boy off, and three years in captivity ain't no thang, so I thought I'd get you in a little position for as long as my boy in jail." "What the hell is this thing?" "See, I think you full of shit for taking over my boy's case and not getting nothing done, so now I'm going to make you full of shit... Literally..." "You can't..." "You my toilet now, bitch. You gonna be my toilet. You gonna eat up all my shit. You are my toilet slave..." I was in shock, "You're fucking crazy if you think I'm going to eat your shit." She laughed, "Oh you will. Because it's all you gonna eat..." She waddled away and I smelled delicious food. She came in and pissed on my face. I refused to drink it... "Eventually, all that piss you missin' will fill up your little box and then you'll drown. It's also got water in it, which you need to survive. So you either gonna die in yo little prison under my ass from drowning, starvation, or dehydration if you don't just accept that you are now my toilet." She walked away. TV... I found being a human toilet to be the most boring thing on earth. It was always just waiting and waiting. But then there was the first time she shit. I wished I was still waiting. Freda pulled down her pants and I saw her butt cheeks sticking together, separate as she lowered herself to sit above me. A rancid fart burst from her anus. BARRRORUUUUUUMMMMFFFFFFFFFSSSSSSS I started to scream, and without hesitation or concern for my well being, Freda took a massive shit straight into my mouth. It fell right in because I was screaming. It was a very thick turd rope, bigger than a half dollar coin, and it wouldn't stop. It was one turd that was a foot long. Then another. Then another... THEN THREE MORE! Freda's turd pile was HUGE! The stink was unbearable and I was begging for her to stop. "You wanna get rid of my shit stink, you know what you gotta do, boy. Go ahead toilet boy... Eat my shit." It was in my mouth and the smell was only getting worse, so... "That's right. Chew on my shit, boy. Munch it down. Eat my shit." She was sadistic and didn't seem to care about me at all. She even sat back down at one point to fart again while I was eating her shit. For a year this went on, routinely telling me about the meals she ate and how it would affect her bowels, which would in turn affect me. She was lactose intolerant and ate far too much cheese. I had to eat her ass after a few months and they adjusted the toilet prison so I could better lick her asshole with my mouth and really dig my tongue up into her rectum. She shits twice a day like clockwork. Once in the morning, she wakes up at 6 every day to use my mouth, and once in the evening right after dinner. She'll tell me what she ate and how it should smell in the morning. Telling me that she shouldn't have had the fourth bowl of ice cream because it'll make her farts lethal, but she couldn't help herself. I begged her to start eating foods that don't make her shit so plentiful. She told me that toilets don't make rules. The biggest load came the day after Thanksgiving and I swear I'd never get through it. She laughed when Lucky for me her son was on his best behavior and got out in a year. Freda released me and told me she'd kill me if I went to the cops or told anyone the truth. She said I'd die in shit. The gang members showed me where'd they'd bury me in case I didn't take it seriously. And so that was it... I found my home untouched and Freda had paid the mortgage with my savings, though I don't know how. The firm let me back with almost no questions... It was all so... Weird. My first day back at the firm, I saw Freda in the kitchen and it was just us. "Freda?" She smiled, "Toilet." I chose not to talk to her again, but after eating her shit twice a day for a year, I think I'm ok... |
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