Conditioning of a Scat Slave Ch. 01

With time to dwell on a dead-end career, a recently failed relationship, and a love-life with no direction, Claudia inadvertently stumbles into scat perversions. While getting carried away in her newfound fetish, she reaches out to the scat world for someone to help fulfill her dark fantasy, but ultimately finds her limits challenged beyond all imagination.

Chapter 1 -- The Consequences of a Few Curious Clicks

The blue dot indicating her location appeared to never move. Claudia didn't know what else to do, other than stare at her navigation APP as if willing it on would help her arrive at her destination sooner. A futile attempt at detracting from the feeling in her stomach that seemed like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. Claudia herself was the only soul who knew where she was on her way to, if something were to happen to her, nobody would know where to look. And yet, this somehow added to the whole mystique. As many people knew of her dark fetish as well. Not only did Claudia not confide in anyone, but her appearance and demeanor refused to betray anything other than vanilla. The innocent girl at the office who never joined the social rituals after work. She kept a youthful enough face, walnut-colored eyes and marshmallow lips suggested less than her 27 years. Impeccable, crystal skin contrasting with her night-colored, bobbed hair presented Claudia as the cute, but conservative 'girl' next door. However, the greatest contrast of all was that the soft-spoken Claudia had a newfound penchant for perversions of the scat persuasion. The shame and embarrassment qualified the topic as forbidden discourse, even to her younger sister - her closest confidant. She'd always told Amanda everything, even her most intimate and personal tribulations, but they'd drifted slightly in recent years. Even so, the taboo of the topic made it an appropriate place to draw a line. Who could ever understand or comprehend arousal from such an abhorrent activity? Claudia wondered exactly that when she wandered into it. Once oblivious of its existence, a rabbit hole of overwhelming evidence opened Claudia's eyes to the prevalence of this subculture around the world and, crucially, in her homeland.

No one suspected, nor suggested, anything obscure about Claudia's private life; she was a homebody who completely vanished from the small social circle she had when entered into her long-term relationship. Even after Thomas left her (for the girl at his work with the braids, she suspected), the distinct absence of any dating activity thereafter aroused little to no suspicions. Her family naturally presumed she'd retreated back to the shy, timid girl she was prior to her last relationship. To an extent, it was true. Ever the introvert, Claudia hated confrontation; this had frequently had a history of manifesting obstacles in both her private and professional lives. In her job, she never made the progress her work ethic and nous deserved due to her unrelenting inability to speak up and defend herself, instead her colleagues were often the beneficiaries of her confidence deficit. Claudia identified her personal issues easily enough, envisage solutions to her problems, but became impotent in her execution, specifically when that execution involved a degree of social interaction or confrontation. Marginalized to the peripheries of just about every facet of her life left Claudia increasingly despondent.

From the bus window the passing English countryside rolled by, endless meadows and occasional cattle of little enough interest to allow Claudia an opportunity to reflect on her journey from then to now. Albeit terrified, this was the most alive she'd felt since childhood, since life became... serious. School, university, her career, settling down; Claudia was perfectly on course, the only issue was the course wasn't her own. It had felt like she'd slept walked this far without realizing none of it provided her with satisfaction, despite everyone's best efforts to promise her otherwise. Rather poignantly, yesterday was exactly a year to the day that Claudia's ex-boyfriend, Thomas, had broken up with her and moved out. This would be the catalyst.

After the Sun had set on her relationship, Claudia was left with a lonely apartment and the excess baggage of Thomas's unwanted belongings that were more like trophies of failure. Among the dross was a discarded laptop. Annoyingly, she remembered Thomas's intolerance for old tech; always throwing small fortunes away to upgrade his devices for the latest gadgets. Far less trivial and in need of a laptop; Claudia decided to power it up in an attempt to salvage it. Password control was easily navigated by entering Thomas's favorite footballer and his shirt number; the most difficult part was making sure she spelled the name right. "Predictable," she scoffed, while also being disappointed in herself for knowing in the first place. Claudia had invested in being part of Thomas's passions, despite him never caring enough to take an interest in hers; or maybe she didn't have any passions.

A bombardment of software updates later, the laptop was up and running. Slow, but running nonetheless. This'll do, she thought. Some mindless scrolling offered a welcome distraction from the spring cleaning until eventually, something more tempting sprung to mind. Like any good ex-girlfriend, Claudia's eyes and mouse drifted towards the browser history.

"Wonder where you've been surfing," she mused, making her way down the long list.

"Youporn huh? Should have gone incognito, little pervert," She giggled.

Claudia perused a little further until a site promising Hardcore BDSM piqued her curiosity.

"Whoa! Didn't see that coming," she gasped, a little embarrassed that she never suspected it. Maybe she didn't know Thomas as well as she thought. Slightly amused, Claudia found it hard to resist taking a cheeky peek. Videos containing whipping and hot wax raised her eyebrows, while her curiosity continued nudging Claudia down the categories list.

"Scat? What the hell is scat?"

It took only a couple of curious clicks before footage of 2 girls defecating on each other unreeled in front of her.

"Oh my God!" Claudia had never fathomed such a thing. Her reflex emotions were of horror and disgust, yet like spectators transfixed by a catastrophe, she couldn't break her gaze. It was only an eventual, confusing, sense of arousal that eventually forced her to shamefully slam the laptop closed.

"What did I just watch?" Incredulous; Claudia sighed and decided that was her cue to get back to cleaning her apartment. "I really need to start dating again," she conceded to herself as she went back to gathering Thomas's junk into boxes, ready to close that chapter of her life while unaware of the new one that had just begun.

The following day at work was unproductive. The footage kept replaying in her head, pervading her mind, and the more it did the less Claudia understood about how it made her feel. It made her recall the time she was 7; while on the way home from shopping all day with her mother, something she'd eaten earlier had upset her stomach. Claudia inevitably pooped her pants when her mother was unable to get her to a public restroom in time. Angry that it was somehow her fault, Claudia was scolded badly by her mother. She remembered the stress and anxiety, not to mention the torturous discomfort of holding it in. When her young body finally gave up and released, there was almost a wave of relief. The pain, the fight, it was over, even though she'd lost. In that sense, the warm spread that blanketed her buttocks almost a respite.

A rushed commute home and a reheated dinner later, Claudia found herself in a standoff with the laptop. Why would I want to watch that again? What's wrong with me? Sheer curiosity, she convinced herself. Just one video, she warned herself. Max two. But by 5 she stopped counting. She justified it by telling herself that her life was too boring, and that she was harmlessly feeding her inquisitiveness, an inquisitiveness that swelled the more she perused, until a hand subconsciously found its way into her pants to meet her moisture. Shocked, Claudia couldn't understand why this was happening, but allowed herself to continue. These sessions became more frequent over the next few weeks as Claudia concluded that, while grotesque, she wasn't hurting anyone. Between the confusing panic, she knew one thing for sure, that it brought her pleasure. Videos with a female subject made her imagine what those girls must have felt while being shit on; what would compel such submissive worthlessness in someone? The idea of abdicating all control, serving as a human toilet for someone else's pleasure, complete and utter humiliation. Strangely, she imagined it to be liberating; she imagined... she yearned to know what it would feel like, for her. Such ponderance paved the way to rupturing orgasms dictated by her digits. Thomas had never made her feel that way; he not made her feel much.

After a lot of alone time spent 'researching', it was only a matter of time before Claudia began experimenting with her own poop. At first, she carefully placed a few sheets of toilet paper in the palm of her hand and caught some to observe. A few close sniffs repelled her efforts and she dropped it back in the bowl in disgust. There was a dash more courage the next time when Claudia dipped her finger to scoop up a chunk of poo; she even dabbed it ever-so-gently with her tongue, so lightly she didn't even taste anything. She tried again, this time a bit firmer and longer. It was wretched and bitter, but bearable, nothing like what she expected; she wasn't sure what she expected actually. To vomit maybe? In these early stages, Claudia would have flashes of Catholic guilt and end up in the shower washing off small streaks of stool she'd rubbed onto her chest while aiming questions at herself that she couldn't answer. A few days of abstinence would follow, but gradually the guilt would corrode and Claudia found herself relapsing.

Claudia continued around this loop, accumulating experience and with it, creativity. She imagined herself a slave as she lied on her cold, naked back in the bathtub; a fresh pile of her own doing floating above in the palm of her hand. Claudia fantasized that someone was standing over her; a domineering Mistress perhaps, who'd captured her against her will and was about to use her as her toilet. With one soft hand locked in her crotch and her gentle fingers swirling around her clitoris, Claudia stared at the edges of the pile of shit in her hand, tantalizing her as it threatened to plunge onto her, knowing that a slight tilt would end in a smelly predicament. It was peculiar adrenaline. Eventually, she'd let it fall, splattering her chest. Each time she became more adventurous. Smearing onto her face was the following graduation; enjoying the rush she felt from the stench and her own repulsiveness. Some days at work she refrained from using the bathroom for as long as possible, saving it up so she could rush home to the delight of a humungous dump to play with.

Learning more about herself and what turned her on, Claudia refined her fetish. Shit that was a soft, without being runny, was her favorite. It smeared smoothly and felt so much nicer than hard shit, so Claudia made sure to increase her water intake throughout the day to keep her excrement at the preferred texture. Her desk real-estate was now dominated by a huge water bottle and handfuls of high-fiber snacks; everyone in the office marveled at her newfound healthy lifestyle -- little did they know. Meanwhile, at home, Claudia was now even slowly pushing shit into her mouth. The first couple of times she quickly spat it out and nearly drowned herself in mouthwash, until one time she decided to let a nice lump rest in her mouth while she pleasured herself. Now she knew what scat tasted like and, sure, it was horrid, but in an alluring way. The once daunting prospect of feces in her mouth didn't faze her any more, so the following playtime she mustered the courage to close her mouth and even chew. Claudia had done a lot of reading on scat play and was aware of the health risks, so she was careful not to swallow. Each 'dalliance' was a progression or an evolution of the last. Claudia would solo role-play her fantasies; she would shit on a plate and press her open lips to the edge before tilting it to watch as it agonizingly slid into her waiting mouth; her tongue rimming the plate playing the part of the imaginary asshole releasing a load. Despite her regular role-playing, her creativity could only take her so far. It, of course, had its limitations. The inertia of Claudia's confidence was driving her against the sensation that playing alone was no longer cutting it.

As midnight of an uneventful 28th birthday approached, Claudia decided she owed herself a guilty pleasure. She wanted to uncage her inner submissive so that it could be caged by somebody else. As a birthday gift to herself, she settled. Intense research ensued. After stumbling through several fetish dating websites and scrolling through forums, Claudia picked the one that looked most reputable and subscribed. Her profile, she thought, was tailored with meticulous attention to detail in the hope of attracting a scat mate for a scat date. Claudia wasn't a lesbian, but it was of paramount importance to her to have the 'safety' of a woman for her first scat experience. In any case, this didn't feel like sex to her, so gender felt irrelevant. Claudia wanted someone with experience, who could offer her tutelage or mentoring.

A profile belonging to a Mistress Eva, "Seeking a toilet slave", appeared to check most, if not all, of the boxes. A stern but attractive woman filled the profile pictures of this mysterious Mistress. Claudia thought she looked intimidating, even in her photos, but couldn't help be drawn into her aesthetic gravitas.

"Leading Mistress Seeks Toilet Slave," read Claudia. "To serve me as I see fit," wonderful, she thought. "England's darkest scat Mistress," perfect! "Prepare to be broken in under my domination." The last line scared her a little, but also bolstered her adrenaline. Claudia abandoned the notion of recklessness and decided life was too short to suppress her desires. Thus, began the excitement of anticipation.

Mistress Eva's first reply was precise and to the point. "Do you have experience? Are you available January 23?"

Claudia was succinct, "Yes and yes." The first 'yes' felt a little lie, but the question was vague. Did she mean experience with scat or experience playing with others? Worried she'd be rejected, she opted for the favorable interpretation only to realize that she'd contradicted herself on her profile anyway. Surprisingly, she received a reply all the same which Claudia met with anxiety flavored with excitement. Throughout their exchanges, Mistress Eva asked several peculiar questions, such as her measurements. Claudia obliged until it officially became a date. Was this really happening? Claudia felt euphoric at the sheer idea of it and like a child before Christmas, began counting down to the day.