Femdom Toilet Stories

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After being blown and locked, Miss Carly explained to me that the compound we were at had over a hundred rooms and approximately 50 current residents. She began walking me to a room where I was to keep myself preoccupied until they had prepared my sleeping arrangement. I walked butt naked behind Miss Carly down a high-ceilinged hallway. Her ass was absolutel...
This article is intended to help dominant women with easing into toilet training of their submissives through a gradual progression. Through smaller steps along the way, the training can be taken as far as the dominant woman and the slave would like. This process can also help to push reluctant submissives further along to further improve their submissivenes...
(fictional story, WM/wf, AF/wm, AM/wm-nc, AF/AF/AM) Foreword: This story is a sequel to OH SHIT. OH SHIT is a sequel to TOILET SLAVE 2. TOILET SLAVE 2 is a sequel to TOILET SLAVE. This story is also a sequel to OH POO-POO, even though OH POO-POO is not a sequel to any other story. ### It was only last year that Steve had been a toilet slave in the ladies...
Mistress Deborah stood in front of a naked, kneeling slave; I had answered her invitation, coming to her house; her shaved pussy only an inch from my face. Her pussy's feminine aroma "rushed" through my nostrils like Amyl Nitrite [poppers]; it made my head spin; my cock's tumescence provided the best display an average six inch cock could give-but you could...
"I was now a shit eater! Upon that realization, even the foul flow of my saliva and shit pooling in my mouth tasted better; it's presence fueled my already steel-hard erection, and she returned. In silence she handcuffed my arms behind me, looped a cord about my ball sac, and clipped a steel chain to it. Tugging on the chain, my balls tightened; "Don't mo...
Amber was waiting for Cindy thinking about her last slave. The runt had died two weeks ago. Three years of service without any problems. None that could not be solved with a little bit more discipline applied to him anyway. He was a good cook and his tongue was very talented. She had brought his body to the bayou were the crocodiles had taken care of him....
Part 10 - A Toilet Slave is Born Like deja-vu, Claudia retraced her steps down the arduous path that led back to Mistress Eva's farm. It was the very place where she reached a level of degradation many 'normal' people would never conceive. A degradation that had conversely given her infinitely more sexual satisfaction than all of her past boyfriends combine...
In the morning Caroline came back, but she knocked on the regular, front door again. I opened it, a little alarmed to see her there, and wondering if this was when she would blush, apologize for her drunken outburst, or else forget entirely about the incident of the night before. But instead she looked deep into my eyes and took a step closer to me. "That...
The red stripes upon his ass had healed before the week concluded. Seven days, one-hundred-sixty-four hours, ten thousand eighty minutes -and, by the end, he was concluded; he wanted to become a non-nondescript toilet slave. Public transportation was used to get his body to her home. He knocked, her door opened. He fell to his knees as instructed, and a fee...
It was Eric's birthday and two days before his and Kat's anniversary. Eric was in the shower, when Kat snuck into the bathroom wearing a skirt and t-shirt. She put a collar on the sink. When the water turned off, Kat stepped into the shower and shoved Eric to the wall of the shower. "What are you doing?" Eric asked. "Whatever I want to do." Kat replied as s...

Posted on 06/08/2019 - 26/09/2019 by pseudonymous
I had gotten Auburn’s name and phone number off of the Internet. She had placed advertisements on femdom group inviting wimps to call her for $1.99/minute. The thing that intrigued me was that based on her area code, she was located about 2 hours from me! I sent her some email telling her that I was into severe humiliation including forced toilet servitude. She emailed me back saying that
she liked nothing better than to watch some wimp eat and drink from the toilet!
At one point, as part of the role-playing, she told me to lie on my back and piss into my mouth. I chuckled and asked her if she ever made guys do that in real life. She suddenly spoke out of character and asked me if my phone could reach the bathroom. I asked her why.
She said that she wanted me to lie on my back in the tub and let her listen to me pissing on my face!
I told her I was not near a bathroom. She told me to put the phone down and go get a large glass. I asked her if she was serious and she said that she was. I knew it was sick but I was suddenly so hard that I couldn’t help myself. I told her I’d be right back and went and got a large glass. When I came back, she told me to hold the phone to the glass and piss into it which I did. She told me to hold the phone normally and to tip the glass back and chug the entire glass of piss in one swallow. I tipped the glass back and nearly gagged. It was incredibly salty. It reminded me of warm, seawater but my throbbing appendage seemed to enjoy it so I chugged the entire contents of the glass in one swallow. She asked me how I enjoyed it. Strangely, I had enjoyed it tremendously.
Next, she asked me when the last time I had taken a shit was. I told her that it was earlier that afternoon and asked her why? She told me that she wanted me to go get a bowl and shit in it for her. I told her that even if I was so inclined, I didn’t think I could do it with her listening. She told me to take the bowl to the bathroom, shit into it, bring it with me, and call her back when I was done! I told her that I wasn’t able to shit currently to which she hassled me, telling me that she didn’t believe me and that I really could if I had wanted to. I asked her if she had ever made a guy do that before and she said she had. She had made one guy shit on a doughnut and eat it and she made another guy shit into a hot dog bun and eat it, and yet another guy shit into his hands and she made him deep-throat the turd like it was a big dick!
I asked her how she knew they really did it and she replied that she had made them take polaroids of the event which they had sent her. I asked her what she did with the polaroids. She told me that she used them to blackmail the guys with. She made the guys send her money or gifts in exchange for her not posting the pictures on the internet or sending them to their wives!
I wasn’t sure if she were kidding or not but it was getting late and I had to go so we disconnected. We exchanged a few emails regarding what a “live” session would consist of. In a live session, we would meet at a local hotel.
She told me that she is extremely beautiful and powerful with long lean legs and that unless I was built like a linebacker, she would be able to physically overpower me and make me do anything she wanted.
We would agree beforehand regarding whether the session would be a light or a heavy one and that once the session started, she would be in control. She would push me, pull my hair, punch me, kick my balls HARD (as she put it), whip me, spit in my face, make me eat cigarette ashes and butts, eat food off the floor that she had chewed, drink her piss from a baby bottle and drink from the toilet. She would have a bodyguard in the car outside the room in case I got a testosterone rush and tried to get aggressive.
I emailed her back asking what would happen if we agreed to all this and once I got there, I chickened out. She replied that I could beg, whine, scream, and cry and she was still going to stuff my cruddy head into the toilet and give me what I paid for! On the second session, we mostly talked about what would happen in the live session. I told her that I was very excited about what she had written but was a little hesitant since it seemed to be somewhat severe for a first session. She agreed and suggested that we have a light session
first.
I asked her if the toilet stuff was part of the light session and she indicated that it was. She considered men eating from the toilet to
be “light.” I told her that what could happen was that I couldn’t “perform” once I got to the toilet. She said that once she
had me cuffed and bound that I WOULD perform. She said that she had a 100% success rate in that regard. I asked her what sort of stuff she would do to give me “incentive” to perform. She said that she would berate me and slap me VERY HARD, perhaps even punching me in the
face. If I still didn’t shit, she would help me along by taking her cigarette lighter and pass the flame under my cock and balls. She
would instruct me to eat very heavy the night before and not to take a shit before the session. She also mentioned that she would
photograph me eating the shit out of the toilet. I mentioned to her that I had a wife, kids, and a respectable job and couldn’t afford to have pictures of me posted to the Internet in that regard. She told me that once I got there and saw how beautiful she was, that I would let her do anything she wanted. She told me that if I still couldn’t shit for her that as a last resort, she would shit herself into the toilet and make me eat it. I told her that I was nervous about that in these days of HIV, Hepatitis, etc., and she told me that shit was my bag, not hers and that she wouldn’t bother with my worries!
I asked her how she could make me eat it if I didn’t want to. She told me that since my wrists would be shackled behind my back and my
ankles would be cuffed that she would simply drag me over to the toilet and force my head down into the bowl. If necessary, she would
pick me up by the waist and shove me, head-first into the toilet. I told her that while she might be able to dunk me, that it still
seemed like I could get away with not eating it. She told me that with really stubborn wimps, she will sometimes put on a pair of long,
rubber, dish-washing gloves. She will hold their heads under water in the toilet for 60 seconds or so, bring them up for a quick gulp of
air and force them back under again. After several dunkings, the guy will usually be gasping and crying like a baby and will do anything
she asks! I asked her if there would be a safeword. She said that in this case, there could be a safeword but if I used it she would:
Additionally, she said that at the start of the session, she tapes the slaves requests so that if any complications arise, she has proof
of what he wanted. In my case, she said since there’s been so much hype regarding toilet servitude, She would make sure I ate shit, one
way or another. Either my own, hers, her bodyguard, or someone else’s.
I finally decided to schedule a live session with Mistress Auburn. We agreed to meet at a motel. When I finally saw her, I was stunned by
her beauty and the aura of power surrounding her. She was about six feet tall with curly black hair, long legs displayed nicely in a
short black skirt, a tight, white top exposing her abdomen, and she was wearing black platform shoes.
I paid her several hundred dollars which covered the session along with the hotel bill. Since I’m married, she agreed to book the motel
in her name. After paying for the room, she pointed out her bodyguard parked nearby and explained that she would not put up with any
insubordination. If at some point during the session, I got a testosterone rush and attempted to put up a fight, she would push a
button, signaling him and ending the session immediately.
She went to the room and I was ordered to carry several large duffle-bags of paraphernalia to the room. They were big and heavy and it
took me three trips to get everything into the room. Once in the room, she ordered me to strip while she got some of her things ready.
Once I was naked, I was ordered to lie down on he bed on my stomach with my hands behind my back and she immediately bound my wrists
tightly together with a nylon strap like the police use. She bound my ankles the same way and then connected my ankles to my wrists with
bungee cords. When she was done, I was pretty much immobile. She grabbed me by the bungee cord and rolled me off of the bed, onto the
floor. I saw a tape recorder sitting on the nightstand.
“Ok, worm,” she laughed. “I’m recording the introduction as an aural contract. You’re mine for a few hours. You’re going to be my
little, wimpy, shit-eating, piss-drinking, pussy boy. I’m going to torture you by beating you senseless. That includes punishing your
little penis, battering your faggot asshole, punching you, bruising you, pulling out your hair, making you consume bodily wastes – either
yours or mine (at my choosing), and generally humiliating your beyond your wildest expectations. You also agree to allow me to record the
event on film for posterity and to include third parties of my choosing in your discipline. I will keep all pictures and recordings
of these events for my own use but I reserve the right to publish the pictures if it suits my fancy. If you disagree, the session is
immediately over and you forfeit the entire fee. Do you agree, PUSSY-BOY?”
I thought for a second and realized that despite the obvious risks, this was the opportunity of a lifetime. I simply replied, “I agree,
Mistress.” She clicked off the ‘record’ button on the tape recorder 9and put the sole of her platform shoe right on top of my cock. While
I groaned in agony, she just laughed and ground her foot down even harder – making sure to twist her foot in a circular pattern to
really tenderize my penis. She stepped up onto my stomach with both feet, placing her hands on the bed for leverage. I cried out in pain
and her reaction was to shift her weight and suddenly, she jammed the thick heel of her platform shoe into my mouth.
“This ought to keep you quiet,” she laughed. She began jamming her thick heel, in and out of my mouth with tremendous force. Tears were
streaming down my face as her heel bruised and cut my lips. This did not seem to bother her one bit and at one point, she plunged her heel down my throat and then applied all her weight to the foot in my mouth, causing the heel to press against the back of my throat and me to gag.
“Don’t you dare vomit,” she declared. “If you do, it will be your appetizer!”
She finally pulled her heel out of my mouth and sat on my chest. I was helpless since my hands were bound behind my back. She reached
for her bag and pulled out a penis gag which she pressed into my bruised and battered mouth and attached around my head.
“This will stifle the screams somewhat,” she laughed. She began slapping me in the face with both hands. When I turned my head, she
grabbed me by the hair and held my head fast with one hand, while punching and slapping me me with the other. Suddenly she ripped a
clump of my hair out, causing me to scream into my gag.
“You keep up this behavior and I’ll start ripping out your pubic hair too!” she threatened.
I knew she was not bluffing. She then reached up and grabbed a clothespin from her bag. To my horror, she pinched my nostrils shut
with the thing. My head was thrashing back and forth as I tried to get what little breath I could from around the penis gag which was
not much. Just when I thought I would pass out, she pulled the clothespin from my nose where I gasped frantically for air.
“You should realize, slave” she said, “Your every breath is an option which I will decide whether you deserve or not. I have complete power over you. You have committed yourself to a contract and you WILL obey me!”
She got up and kicked me hard in the balls as she walked over to her bag. She produced a Q-Tip and some Ben Gay cream. She pulled the
cotton end of the Q-Tip off and dipped it into the Ben Gay. She walked over to me and sat down hard onto my stomach, facing my cock.
Grasping my penis with one hand, she began inserting the Q-Tip down into my urethra. It felt cool at first but gradually began burning.
It started burning more and more to the point where tears were running down my face and I was screaming into my gag. Meanwhile, she
took out some string and began tightly wrapping my cock and balls up with it. The combination of the Ben Gay and the tight wrapping caused my cock to throb incessantly with pain unlike any I’ve ever felt before. She opened her back of tricks and produced a bunch of
clothespins which she proceeded to attach to various parts of my body. She attached them to my nipples first, then ears, lips,
cock, and balls.
The flash went off as the first picture was taken for her amusement. I was in complete agony which seemed to be just fine with her.
Threatening even more severe and possibly permanent bodily harm if I screamed, she removed the penis gag and pulled out a small lunch box. She began eating a sandwich, asking me if I was hungry. When I admitted between groans that I was, she ordered me to open my mouth
and then spit a mouthful of her food into my waiting mouth. She repeated this several times and then pulled out a baby bottle.
“You will now drink my piss” she laughed.
She inserted the nipple into my mouth and held the bottle as I had the first gulp of her warm piss. My face contorted due to the warmth
and bitterness but this only caused her to squeeze the bottom which forced her piss into my mouth at an even greater rate! When I had
finished with her urine, I begged her to let me use the bathroom. She asked me if I had followed her orders regarding my “feedings.” I
replied that according to her orders, I had eaten a large dinner the night before, a midnight snack consisting of a burger and fries, and
a large breakfast earlier this morning.
“Did you take a shit yet?” she asked.
“No, Mistress,” I replied. “That’s why I need to use the bathroom so bad!”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked. “Crawl over to the bathroom.”
I crawled like a worm, all the way into the bathroom. Mistress flipped the seat up and ordered me to sit. I sat down, almost falling
into the water since my hands and feet were still bound. She stood there waiting for me to shit. She kicked me a couple of times in the
shins.
“Come on, pussy-boy. You know you really have to go. Don’t worry about me. Just take a big shit so we can have some more fun!”
I still couldn’t shit in front of her and I just watched her while crying, as she lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in my face. She
suddenly took the cigarette lighter and held the flame close to my balls.
“Have you ever smelled burnt testicles?” she laughed.
As the flame flickered upwards, burning my short and curlys, I suddenly grunted and began emptying myself into the toilet.
“Isn’t that much better?” she asked in a soothing kind of voice.
When I was done, she pulled me off of the
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