TOILET TRAINING
From the diary of Slavegirl Anna
It is already four in the morning. This night has been very long and difficult
for me, and it seems a real miracle for me to be able at all to do my homework,
kneeling before the writing table.
I had known for some time that it would be a difficult day for me, for I had
noticed that the Mistress was particularly excited, and, while I had been about
my daily duties as a chambermaid, I had overheard several phone calls to her
friends. That is a sure sign of an imminent party, one of those fearful evenings
when my godlike Masters have guests and grow quite uninhibited in their search
for ever more intensive tortures than usual, just to entertain their friends.
The lecherous little slut that I am always sees such a party coming with much
anguish, but also with quite a lot of arousal, for my part in it is to be
exhibited to these strangers and to satisfy my beloved Masters by displaying my
obedience and my submissiveness. It has already happened that, at the end of
such nights, I found myself with my holes utterly staved in, and with my whole
body covered with bruises, but I really had no idea in which state I would find
myself by the end of the evening.
The Masters had me serve dinner earlier than usual, but that evening, my eating
bowl, set near the table, was empty. While I was clearing the plates in my
erotic chambermaid's uniform, the Master gave me a pill to swallow. As I gulped
it down, he gave me one of his wicked smiles, and told me: "It's an anti-emetic
drug. You'll find it most useful." Then the Masters laughed loudly, and they
went out to change clothes.
As had been ordered to me, I joined them in the torture chamber, where they made
me take off everything (even my collar) and don a hood of very tight rubber,
with only one opening for the face. Then the Master squeezed out a liquid
silicon mixture of the kind in use for sealing a leaking bathtub, and he smeared
a large amount on my neck under the hood. After which he stretched down the
hood's collar to glue it to my neck. I had almost a suffocating feeling, but he
went on, then he added another layer of silicon on the outside of the hood,
around my neck.
Then the Mistress brought a sheet of clear plastic, shaped into a tube about two
feet long. The Master smeared silicone around one of its ends, and, with some
difficulty, he glued it around my face. While he went on applying silicon on the
outside of the plastic sheet, I found myself with that strange tube dangling
before my face, and at first I had no idea as to what its use might be. The
Masters left me by myself, on my knees, in the torture chamber, for a very long
time, then they came back to me to finish with my preparation. The acrid
smelling silicon had almost solidified by then, and had sealed my head inside
the hood. I knew however that removing it would not be too difficult, and it did
not worry me. Then the Mistress made me lie down spreadeagled on the floor, and
she tied me to the rings which jut out of it, stretching me into a X shape. The
stretching made me grow all wet, and I grew even more aroused when the Master
slid some kind of supporting device under my behind, so that my pelvis was
upraised, making my worthless cunt and disgusting asshole even more accessible.
Then the Mistress fixed my head in position with a new instrument, which
consisted, as far as I could see, of a plank which they slid under my body,
where my weight kept it in place. One of its ends was equipped with a belt which
was tightly cinched around my forehead. The Mistress ordered me to move my head,
and upon seeing that I had succeeded in shifting it a little, she tightened the
belt even more, squeezing my skull in a quite painful manner. I was utterly
immobilized, with my nipples stiffly erect from my arousal, but the preparation
was not over.
The Master positioned above my head some kind of metallic device, like a stool,
but quite low. Then he pulled out the free end of the plastic tube in front of
my face, all the while fitting it to the device, so that I understood at last
its purpose. The tube was in fact joined to the device, which kept it perfectly
taut and wide open; from my position I could see the room's ceiling through a
hole in the contraption, its size the same as the tube's and as my face's.
The Masters left me there, with the plugs inserted into my willing luscious
orifices, and left to meet their guests. All of a sudden I understood the reason
why, the few past days, so much stress had been placed on my training as a
toilet bowl, and I began to get worried. In fact I always liked to drink piss,
but learning to swallow my Masters' godlike shit still was difficult, and
sometimes I could not help vomiting. Then, as I was still hoping my Masters
would take pity on me, the guests came in, all at the same time. With my hood on
it was not easy to understand exactly what they were talking about, but now and
then I felt a hand fondling me, pinching my nipples or playing with my intimate
parts. A few minutes later, a woman friend of my Masters lowered down her
underside on my face. She spread the lips of her vagina with her hands, and a
stream of piss fell from a height upon me. I knew what I had to do and I opened
my mouth to drink all of it, but the piss bounced on the plastic tube and
splashed everywhere, falling down on my eyes and around my face. When I
eventually succeeded in swallowing some of it, my face was drowned in piss, with
only my nose emerging. I tried to open my eyes, but the warm liquid burned them,
and I squeezed my eyelids shut.
I gulped down as much of the piss as I could, but very slowly, by opening my
mouth wide, and using my tongue to collect the drops... Meanwhile the guests'
hands went on playing with my immobilized body, exciting me like a bitch in
heat. Despite all that silicone, piss was seeping slowly inside the hood,
insinuating itself between the rubber and my skin. Thus, within a few minutes my
face was out of the liquid, and I could open my eyes again. I had gone from one
kind of insulation to another one: in fact, piss was accumulated around my ears,
and I found it very difficult to hear what was being said in the room. As a
compensation, I could see, through the clear plastic, that everybody was
throwing side looks at me, attentively surveying me. I could "feel" their
presence next to me for all of the evening. I cannot be sure, but I think there
also was a male slave in charge of making sure I did not suffocate.
For some time, about one quarter of an hour, nothing more was done to me. Every
now and then, somebody would come near me to tweak my nipples, to stir the plugs
which staved me in, or to squeeze my tits, but nothing more. Then, maybe after a
sign had been given, the torture proper began.
I was suddenly awakened from the stupor I had sunk in by the warm impact of more
piss on my forehead. Acting on reflex, I opened my eyes and my mouth, only to
see two cocks sticking out from the tube's orifice, pointing down to me, after
which the burning sensation of urine in my eyes compelled me to close them. I
gulped down hastily a mouthful of piss, then another, and before I could realize
it, I found myself immersed in piss. Even my nose was submerged!
Frightened, I gulped down as much piss as I could, in order to lower its level
and to be able to breathe. I had hardly succeeded in taking in some air when,
suddenly, I was again drowning in excrement. I had no time to feel disgust for
the predicament I was in, and to say the truth, being used as a toilet was only
exciting for me, but it also was quite frightening indeed. When at last I was
able to breathe again, using my emerged nose as a kind of periscope over the
yellow liquid, I was thinking in terror that this air could be denied again to
me, and for a moment I abandoned myself to a wild panicky feeling as I squirmed
with all my body.
Such an insubordiate behavior was suddenly cut out by my revered Masters, which
delivered a brutal whipping on my breasts. The sudden pain made me open my mouth
to scream, which only resulted in allowing more piss to flow into my useless
gullet.
Almost suffocating, I drank it all and I regained my composure, ashamed of my
own behavior. I felt more piss trickling inside the hood, and I became totally
deaf.
When the plug in my cunt was removed, I did not need my ears to know that, very
soon, the just punition I had deserved would be administered to me. And indeed,
after a few moments, my intimate parts exploded in pain: intensive pain, quite
unlike that from a whipping, and which showed no sign of diminishing. On the
contrary, after a few seconds, my suffering got worse, and they never stopped
torturing my cunt for several minutes. Before coming here to write down my
diary, I asked the Mistress which instrument had been used, and she has shown me
two metal tooth-studded clamps, about two inches long. They are equipped with a
very strong spring, and they have been developed for the express purpose of
crushing the entire length of a slave's outer cuntlips between their jaws: they
have been sent from Austria as a gift from a lady friend. The very idea that
they will be used on me again fills me with a mortal dread.
To go back to my report on this evening, my torture obviously was not over like
that. On the contrary, after the clamps had been removed and blood had started
again its course through my abused cunt, things began in earnest.
First came more piss, which I drank as if it was the best drink in the world.
Then, as I had feared, came the time of crap. A huge, heavy turd which fell down
upon my nose like a brick. It was warm, with a powerful stench, but from then
on, I was excited to such an extent that I would have done anything to eat it,
behaving like the best lavatory ever. While I was pulling out my tongue to reach
it, another lump of shit landed right into my open mouth: I felt the presence
all around me of my Masters'guests, who looked at me to enjoy my abject
submission, and I was quite happy that I could swallow that turd without any
problem.
Then began the really difficult part. I do not know exactly how it happened: I
think that the guests waited in a line up to make use of their new toilet, or
something like that. Piss and shit begain pouring down in an uninterrupted
stream, which to me seemed to last for hours. Drowning and suffocating in
excrement, I started gulping down all of it in a frenzied manner, frightened out
of my wits at the very idea of being kept deprived of air. Soon, the material
which accumulated in the tube turned into a single warm lump, in which I could
no longer make out (and maybe it was better that way) the distinctive flavors of
the two food items which are the only ones fit for a slave. From time to time a
turd fell down to float around, or to land directly into my open mouth, and I
was compelled to chew on it, if only a little, to be able to swallow it. Not
only did this not disgust me, but in fact I was happy and excited not to be able
to evade that meal: my only problem was to be quick enough to keep the level of
the excrements from getting too high and asphyxiating me.
Id did happen, on three or four occasions, that I had to fight my own stomach,
which was rebelling against the repulsive stream of piss and shit, but I always
managed to overcome this without any serious difficulty. The real problems began
when I felt that I was really quite full, so that I was utterly unable to
swallow anything anymore, even if it had been the most exquisite food in the
world. With my tongue busily swirling pieces of sticky shit, and my gullet
brimming full of urine, I briefly summoned to my mind the picture of the
mediaeval water torture, in which the victim is made to drink gallons of water.
I had been a depraved and masochistic little girl, and I had tried it out when I
was only a kid, maybe eight or nine years old. I had taken a large caraffe, and
I had sat down near the kitchen faucet. I had then relentlessly emptied the
caraffe two or three times, despite the nausea and the feeling of "fullness". I
had forced myself to drink, drink, drink, even when I felt my belly was ready to
burst, and I had gone on until I really could not drink any more. I had not
thrown up, but for the remaining of that day I had been quite sick, with nausea,
headache, and pain everywhere. That time I had been angry at myself for not
being able to swallow more, and to sustain more pain: I had not discovered yet
the torture of my erogenous parts, and even that terrible feeling of being ill
was not enough to fully satisfy my masochism. I knew that I would have had to go
on drinking for a much longer time in order to fully taste the feeling of the
real torture, but I just did not have the strength.
Well, last night, with a full belly of excrements, I found myself thinking that,
at long last, I had discovered how it felt to be tortured that way in the Middle
Ages. While I was reflecting upon that, a continuous stream of piss submerged
me, and I was not able to drink enough of it in time. I felt I was drowning, I
coughed, drank, coughed again, breathed piss through my nose, while the sudden
fright made me open my eyes, thus allowing the semi-diarrhoeic shit which
covered my face to flood them. I gulped, and, when I already was thinking I
would never again be able to, I eventually could take a breath in.
I was afraid that the terrible downpour would start again, but, whether by
chance or (maybe) through my Master's having mercy on me, it did not happen
again. As my face was completely covered in shit, I used my tongue to free the
area surrounding my mouth, so as to be able to take in deep mouthfuls of air. It
suddenly proed to be quite convenient that my mouth was free, for moments later
the Masters and their guests started playing with my body, and I could not help
screaming very loudly.
Since I could not see or hear a thing, all the perception I had was the sudden
torment of the whip, the implacable grip of metal pliers on my most delicate
parts, and the pounding of cocks, hands and plugs of every kind on the raw walls
of my holes. Even with the dreadful nausea which was filling me, I cannot deny I
took a lot of pleasure in this situation which was new to me.
Now that the evening is over, the guests are gone, the Master has set me free
and I am, at long last, thoroughly scrubbed clean, I am more aroused than ever.
While I was licking the Mistress' wonderful little cunt just before she went to
sleep, she told me she was satisfied with me, and also that, next week, she
would organize another party in order to further my training as a toilet.
With my whole body in pain, and with the same nauseous feeling I had experienced
so many years ago, I am happier than ever of being a slavegirl.
