Emily eventually came upstairs again a few hours later that evening. She had changed into her nightgown again. Without a word, she removed the plastic pan under his ass and took it into the bathroom to empty it. She replaced it and then sat on him, peed, and left in silence.
She went to bed a little after that, and he, too, finally fell asleep once again.
She woke him again during the night to pee, but he hardly noticed. He was half-asleep during it, and he promptly fell back to sleep when she returned to bed.
Sunday morning, he awoke to the smell of eggs and potatoes.
A little later she came up and used him to take a piss. She didn't say anything until after she had used him, then she asked, "So, are you leaving me today? Or can I keep you until tomorrow morning?"
He answered, "It's nice of you to ask, but I can't answer. It's up to you."
"Very well," she answered, and walked out. Again, she took her morning shower and then went back downstairs. She played her piano for about an hour or so. After that, she spent the rest of the day flitting around the house.
He thought to himself, Being a toilet slave is mostly hours of boredom with occasional thrilling moments.
His reverie was broken when she entered the closet again. Today she was wearing a white lacy blouse with black shorts.
As has become routine, she pulled her shorts down and took a seat without a word. She promptly emptied her bladder, which he dutifully swallowed. But once again, she slid forward on his head, covering his nose with her pussy, and -- you guessed it -- with her anus over his mouth.
He steeled himself for his second feeding. This time, she didn't squirm or strain. Her asshole puckered out after barely an instant, and his mouth was immediately filled with a long thick one. It was too big to swallow, so he tried to chew it. But an instant later, her asshole puckered out again, and he got a second mouthful as big as the first.
He struggled to chew and swallow as much as he could before she pushed out another huge log.
She did, too. His mouth was packed solid with her shit now, making it even more difficult to chew and swallow. And of course, like the time before, his lungs were screaming in pain to take a breath. He managed to chew and swallow a little some more of it. Then a little more. And as he swallowed more and emptied his mouth, it because easier to chew and swallow, but the pain of holding his breath so long became nearly unbearable.
He swallowed a little more, and, Oh shit! her asshole puckered out yet again and she shit another lump into his mouth.
How much shit does this bitch have up her ass? he asked himself. At least it wasn't a huge fat one like the last three.
She finally stood and he watched as she wiped her ass as it wiggled over his face. The shitty stink filled the room again, and the awful taste in his mouth made him feel like puking again. This time, she pulled her shorts up and walked out of the room without a word. He breathed slowly and carefully, trying desperately not to puke. After about an hour, he figured he had successfully held off puking, though the bitter taste of her shit was still in him mouth.
More hours passed before she used him again. Per the routine, she entered the room, sat, peed, and left, without saying a word. It seemed that it had finally come to the point where he was just a thing to be used.
She peed in him again later than evening, and once or twice during the night. He was half asleep, and hardly noticed being used.
Monday morning, he awoke to the smell of eggs and waffles again. He sensed that it was earlier in the morning than the previous two days. Of course, he realized that she would be getting ready for work and, he hoped, would be freed from service.
His mouth still tasted like her shit, but he no longer had the urge to puke, even a little. He was getting used to being a human toilet.
She came in wearing her nightgown and, per the routine, used him without a word. He realized something while she was using him -- despite the extremely intimate, visceral thing they were doing together, he hadn't ever seen her completely naked, had yet to even see her tits bared.
Immediately after she had finished using him, he had started to flick and swirl her clit with his tongue. She immediately shook her finger down at him and said, "Ohhh! Keep doing that!"
He kept doing that for a number of minutes until she finally started shaking and quivering on his face.
She then looked down at him, shook her finger at him, and said, "Naughty Boy!" with a grin.
She the stood and went back to the bathroom to take her shower. She spent some time in her bedroom after that, doing what, he didn't know.
She returned to him again, now wearing a blue pant-suit suitable for business. He had learned that she was a manager at some resort in Atlantic City, so she would be dressed up for work. She set her purse down and, again, she wordlessly pulled her pants and panties down and sat on him.
Then her cell phone rang. She leaned over and reached into her purse to answer it.
She emptied her bladder once again, which wasn't very full anyway, and remained seated as she talked on the phone.
"Off by how much?"
Steve swallowed the puddle of piss she squirted into the back of his throat.
"Eight grand and change?"
"Are you sure?"
"What account code was it charged to?"
"Well, my department didn't see any of that money? Who ran the report?"
"Figures! Who got the allocation?"
"Did anyone call his secretary?"
Although her muff wasn't pressed tightly against his nose, and he was able to breathe slowly, this was the longest she had sat on him continuously and it became tiresome to breathe against the restricted airflow.
"And what? Who authorized that expense?"
"Yes, okay. But that should be on Bob's action-item list."
"Yes, I'm just about to leave. I'll be there in a few."
"That won't work, I have a meeting with the support team at eight thirty to discuss the LAN upgrade."
"Maybe eight fifteen, I have to make a slight detour on my way in. I have a personal matter to take care of."
Feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen, he stopped listening to her business conversation, which went on like that for the next ten minutes, until he heard, "Yes, that's good. Nine thirty. I'll see you then," and she put her cell phone back in her purse.
At that, she sucked in a breath and squirted another splash of piss in his mouth before she stood and pulled her pants back up.
She looked down at him and said, "I'm sorry about that! Are you okay?"
He swallowed before answering, "Yeah, I guess so."
"Then it's time to go."
She unlatched the box, unbelted him, and removed the shackles. But when he tried to sit up, the pain of lying completely motionless, frozen in one position, for nearly three days straight shot through his back. He slowly managed to sit up while she brought out his box of clothes and knapsack.
"Get dressed and I'll be back in a few minutes," she told him.
He had a clean change of clothes in his knapsack, which he put on instead of the clothes he wore when he arrived Friday evening.
He was dressed and sitting on the bench when she returned. She took him downstairs and into her SUV for the ride back to the train station.
"Here," she said, as she handed him a box of orange juice and a pastry.
He looked down and ate the food she had given him as she drove him back to the train station. When she had stopped at the station, and has he was opening the door to get out, she quickly grabbed his arm and handed him her business card.
"Call me if you ever want to get together again," she said.
He took the card and got out. She then drove off into the traffic. He checked his wallet, and he still had his return train ticket. He climbed the stairs to the northbound platform crowded with commuters waiting for the next train. He hoped his breath didn't smell like shit.
- END -