Mistress Elisha’s Oblivion Ch. 02

"I didn't say no."

"Oh yeah? Prove it!" Jennifer grinned.

"Okay." The dimpled smile returned to Rabecca's face as she turned to look Jennifer squarely in the face.

"You sure? You know when you get into a bathroom stall and you can tell somebody just took a massive dump? Do I smell like that now?" Jennifer exhaled a stomach full of putrid air into Rabecca's face.

Rabecca winced, closing her eyes but caught herself and began to inhale deeply. "Yep, you smell just like a toilet stall after somebody just took a filthy shit."

"And what about the bowl? You know how the porcelain gets that pale brown streak sometimes?" Jennifer peeled her lips back to bare all her teeth, including the tiny lumps of Natalie and Rabecca's waste that would remain until she had a chance to brush thoroughly.

"Yep. I can see it now. I usually flush it away before I even sit down. If it doesn't clear after that I usually find another stall." Rabecca giggled though Jennifer could hear her breath beginning to grow heavy. She lifted her bound hands over Jennifer's head, bringing them down to rest on her shoulders as she pulled Jennifer's head closer to her own.

"Well, this toilet can't flush. Those stains are gonna be there." Jennifer giggled.

"No, but for whatever reason, it's not bothering me today." Rabecca pulled in close.

"I find that hard to believe." Jennifer leered as she ran her tongue over the lumps of shit caught in her front teeth.

"True story. I mean, feel really bad about what I said."

"Oh, so you just want me to feel better and you think that kissing me will make it up to me? You know, I'll be able to tell if you're only..."

"Shut up toilet breath." Rabecca giggled as she pulled her hands against the back of Jennifer's head, forcing their mouths together. Jennifer felt Rabecca's trembling mouth explore her soiled lips tentatively for a moment before enthusiastically embracing her for everything she had to offer. Jennifer's expression morphed into a wide grin as Rabecca's tongue darted from her mouth, taking several small licks before hungrily devouring her kiss. As she brushed against a small patch of waste clinging to Jennifer's smile she shuttered with her whole body upon realizing it could be her own waste or the shit of a complete stranger she was tasting. She cooed like a small animal, deciding she didn't care a bit as her tongue slipped past Jennifer's lips and into her recently-browned mouth. Jennifer half expected Rabecca to pull away in disgust as her taste buds ran face first into the lumps of shit still clinging to her teeth and the bed of bitter slime coating her tongue and was pleasantly surprised as Rabecca surrendered herself to the sensations of her mouth with an enthusiasm impossible to fabricate.

They remained locked together as they explored each other. Jennifer felt her self-consciousness fade away as Rabecca's tongue wiggled and slid through every nook and crevice of her mouth with no reservation. She listened to Rabecca's breath quicken and her moans grow louder and higher in pitch. She inhaled deeply as Rabecca's sweet breath mixed with the poison coming from her own mouth. She felt her pulse grow steady despite the nagging feeling that her heart could beat out of her chest at any moment. Her worry began to slip away as she reciprocated Rabecca's enthusiastic assault, thrusting her tongue deep into her oral cavity without any hesitation or thought of rejection. Jennifer smiled deeply as she slipped into a perfect moment that, for all she was concerned, could last the rest of her life.

Finally, Rabecca pulled back, eyeing Jennifer dreamily for a moment, her restrained arms still wrapped neatly around her neck.

"You'll be able to tell what?" Rabecca asked with a smirk.

Jennifer found herself at a loss for words. "I'm not sure...wow...what were we talking about?"

"I don't know!" Rabecca laughed.

"How did I taste?"

"You know, I've never kissed a toilet bowl before. But if they're all like that..." Rabecca giggled.

"And I've um...never kissed a girl before...not really..."

"Never?"

"I told you, just Lauren, and it was a dirty shit kiss. You know...I always thought I needed shit to cum but..."

"What?"

"Well, I'd never had an orgasm with anyone...not any of my boyfriends or even with myself, but when I tasted Lauren's shit for the first time..."

"Oh wow..." Rabecca looked down.

"Anyway, what I'm saying is, if every kiss was like that..."

"They're not. I've kissed lots of girls, kisses like that...don't happen often...or ever!"

"It's cause of my shit breath right? Jennifer grinned.

"No...honestly, after a second I didn't notice it anymore. To me it just tasted like I was kissing you...and I loved it."

"Well, we'll have to try it without shit breath sometime...that's the right thing to do scientifically right?"

"I'd love to..." Rabecca's smile cascaded from her lips to her dimpled cheeks to the corners of her eyes. "But until then." She gently tugged at the back of Jennifer's head and their lips met again where they remained for some time before they heard a loud click followed by the squeak of the hatch wheel being turned.

The door swung open with a rusty groan to reveal Mrs. Devlin standing in the open doorway.

"Jennifer, Rabecca, we're ready for you now." Her face erupted into a knowing smile as the they hurriedly pulled themselves apart.

Jennifer stood up and helped Rabecca to her feet. Her mind turned to thoughts of Lauren for a brief moment before the sight of Rabecca's soiled panties, clinging to the crack of her shapely bottom as she waddled out the iron door drove them from her mind.

--

Lauren

Darkness.

Elisha is gone and heaven is empty. I face her oblivion with my body first. My soul will find its way.

That's how I'll start! Lauren thought. A great writer needs a great opening line and I've got it! Fuck yes, I've got it!

So long as I can remember it. Can't write it down now.

Lauren's heart sank as she twisted her wrists back and forth. The thick cord binding them together wasn't maliciously tight but given enough time, even the most loving and well-executed methods of restraint could become their own torture. Still, the real cruelty was in keeping this writer from her pen and paper, or let's be realistic here--her phone.

In actuality, Lauren hadn't been a writer for very long. In her junior year of college, she had met a teacher's assistant named Anthony who was kind, funny and way too good looking for an English nerd. He was shy, but she was determined to make a connection and as it turned out, she needed a lot of help in English 103: Introduction to Creative Writing. He was more than happy to assist and the rest, as they say, was history.

Two years though...that wasn't very long. Certainly not long enough to turn a passion into a career and, according to the framed diploma leaning against the wall on her bedroom dresser, she wasn't a writer at all.

But in another more personal sense, she'd been a writer forever. In those curious moments where her thoughts weren't elsewhere engaged, her idle fantasies spun themselves into a genre-bending novel of epic proportions. She knew it was good, she just needed to get it out into the world--if the world would have it. The words formed so easily in her head but...was there anyone out there who could stomach reading them? Her fantasies were anything but normal and were probably best left buried in the foulest recesses of her deviant mind.

She could be driving down the road, see a Port-a-John at a construction site and fantasize that instead of an overfilled chemical toilet, there would be a designated waste disposal girl inside it--her--poor, innocent, nubile Lauren Thompson chained to the plastic floor. The leather collar around her neck would be secured with thin nylon rope to all four legs of a metal chair so that her head would be held fast in its rightful place, inches below an overbuilt toilet seat. There she would wait--duty bound to accept the filth of anyone wishing to relieve themselves, no questions allowed. Workers from all over the city would line up to use this pretty young girl who had signed a contract, eagerly, to become their fully licensed and bonded toilet slave. Sometimes they'd come in, do their business and leave. Other times, the workers would make casual conversation.

There were the polite ones that liked to take care of business first thing in the morning:

"Lauren, I was hoping you'd be in today. I've had to shit all last night but I was saving it for you! I'm your first? Hope you got room. I got a lot for you today. Wow, you're swallowing it as fast as it's coming out! Don't you toilet girls ever chew? I guess that's why you went pro."

Some were shy, and felt guilt for having to use her:

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't believe it when they told me you were in here and...well...they said this was the only toilet around. I hope you don't mind. No? Really? Okay. Well, how do we do this? Just sit down? What...you want to lick my asshole first? Why? Really? Well, if you say it'll help me relax. Oh...oh fuck that's good. Oh fuck. What are you doing to me? Stop! Stop sucking! Seriously...I've changed my mind. I can't do this to you. Stop! If you keep sucking you're going to get...urp. Oh no...No...fuck fuck, it's coming out! Sorry! Oh god I'm sorry. I couldn't stop myself once it started...That was a lot wasn't it? Oh shit! You just fucking swallowed it. What do you mean thank you? How can you love the taste? More? Well, okay, if that's what you really want..."

And those who were no stranger to a pretty mouth in the bathroom.

"Oh good, you're still open. I thought you might have been collected. I was going to use my wife when I got home but I'm not going to make it. She wanted me to save it up for her but I'm about to explode. Ooooh that's better. Sorry about the smell, you don't mind right? How do I taste? She's gonna ask me all about it when I tell her I had to use you. She made me promise to only use her if I can help it, but...when I have to use a working girl she loves to hear the details. Have you been working here for long? Oh, sorry, I'll let you finish. You have pretty eyes. I bet you get that a lot. This chair is a good design...seems to keep your head perfectly aligned. Does your company sell these? I think my wife might like one for her birthday. Ooh. Oop, didn't wait for your answer...sorry, when I heard you swallow I just automatically went again...it's pretty subconscious at this point. My wife and I have a pretty good rhythm now. I know her pace and how to time it between swallowing. I haven't used a regular toilet in ten years! Well, be a good girl and chew it up! I'm saving most of it for her. I'm going to tell her all about you when I'm pumping the rest into her stomach. She likes to touch herself when I tell her about the other girls."

And so it would continue, until her stomach swelled with the result of an honest day's work. She'd slowly pull on a change of maternity clothing from her backpack and wait for the shuttle to take her to the sanitation department, where she'd spend the night emptying her bowels into a green five gallon bucket. If she was lucky, they'd let her have a bowl of her own cold, mushy waste from her bucket for breakfast before being allowed to go home.

It wasn't the most realistic premise in the world but who's looking for hyper realism in their toilet fantasies anyway?

She could be stopping for ice cream with her mother and sister, and suddenly the soft serve machine would transform into the shapely ass of a beautiful woman, who had been chained to the serving counter and force fed a diet specifically engineered to produce load after load of creamy, deliciously bitter shit. She wouldn't be able to control herself. She'd seal her lips to the woman's puckering hole and suck her empty, consuming far more than she'd paid for, and as punishment would have to take her place at the serving counter, producing her own brand of soft serve to throngs of hungry shit eaters like herself. She'd realize to her absolute joy that the special diet was simply plate after plate of fresh shit!

Yes, she had been a writer forever. She just couldn't tell a soul. Until now.

Now she KNEW there were others. And she was sure they'd love to hear every sick thought coursing through her mind once she put them to paper. Of course they would. There were so many others! Since meeting Elisha...

No, forget about her. She already forgot about you. Lauren clamped her eyes shut, forcing the tears that wanted to so badly steam down her troubled face to remain unshed.

That's the past Lauren. Think about the future. She's just another girl. Plenty more where she came from. There ARE others--so many more than you ever thought. And they'd love to read your stories. Your fantasies!

Or your detailed accounts of your realities.

She squirmed, feeling the bonds restraining her hands behind her back cutting into her skin just the right amount. She felt the mess between the cheeks of her ass. A mess that caused waves of excitement to course through her body as she created it but had now begun to itch and chafe. She flexed her asshole several times and ground her buttocks back and forth against the floor, relishing the grating scrape of affordable plastic on stone and the relief it brought to her bottom.

That's better. Fuck this diaper.

Here you are, living out the toilet scenario of your dreams with no way of writing it down even if you wanted to. Ha. You couldn't even tell Siri to take a memo!

She sighed, listening to her voice resonate through the hard plastic tube stretching her mouth. The muffled vibrations as her voice carried through the plumbing to which she was connected caused a different kind of irritation. The kind of irritation that could only be relieved by her index and middle fingers working themselves vigorously between her legs. She ground her hips against the floor again but found that there was no angle which could apply the right amount of pressure necessary to satisfy her needs.

She wiggled and bounced but nothing seemed to work. Maybe if her feet were free. She felt the padded leather around her ankles. Though not uncomfortable, the cuffs were secured to the floor at points far enough apart that she could not turn over to grind herself against the stone beneath her nor force her thighs together in the hope that it might press the absorbent plastic between her legs against her aching clit.

Seriously, fuck this diaper, fuck these cuffs, fuck this tube!

She bit down hard, hoping to stretch her sore chops but the plastic yielded only slightly. Her mouth had never been forced open for this long before.

Number six: Closing my mouth.

Back to the list...let's see, things I miss most...

Number one: That's obvious, no need to say it...

Number two: Unrestricted access Little Lauren...Definitely!

She thought of her pulsing clit, buried under a thick layer of spongy plastic. Her hands, so close yet secured so tightly behind her back that they may as well be on the other side of the planet.

She signed into her tube once again.

I wonder if they can hear it on the other side? Probably not with all the hardware in the way.

Number three: My phone.

Where is it again? Are they going through it? What if they hear Elisha's message? What if they drain my apple wallet?

Yeah right...All three hundred and fifty-six dollars? Ha.

Number four: My laptop...writing.

I could use my phone for that too. Eh, I like to switch it up. Gets the creative juices flowing.

She felt herself leak into the super absorbent polymers hugging her hips.

Looks like I already have that taken care of!

She giggled into her tube.

Number five:...

Fuck! What was number five? Maybe closing my mouth is five and whatever I thought was number five doesn't exist. No, there was something else...

...Dammit!

Lauren groaned as she noisily sucked down a mouthful of messy drool.

She pulled her legs into her body, hoping to find relief by grinding her diaper into one of the eye hooks securing her feet to the floor but found she could not get close enough to either one without ripping off one of her legs in the process.

Ripping? Tearing? What are some synonyms for....

Thesaurus! That was number five!

Lauren wiggled her butt against the hard floor, feeling the sticky mess ooze deeper into her crack. She'd need to go again soon. Perhaps the added mass would spread her own waste out enough to reach her aching pussy.

Soon Little Lauren. Soon! Maybe if I pee a little...

Lauren relaxed and tried to concentrate on letting herself go. It was still so hard without a proper toilet. Years of conditioning made it impossible for her to loosen up despite her circumstances.

These aren't your fucking pants Lauren. You're not in front of your high school math class. You're alone in a dark ass room and you're wearing a diaper. You already shit in it...You can do this!

She managed to squeeze out a few scattered droplets that splashed uselessly against the inside of her diaper before being wicked away by the absorbent polymers.

Fuck. Some adult baby you are.

I'm not an adult baby! I'm a fucking toilet. Well not even that. I'm a toilet for toilets. Elisha was right.

Fuck...Elisha.

Despite her efforts her eyes began to well with moisture. She blinked and wiggled her nose causing a tear to slide down her cheek. Her entire face began to itch. It was as if an army of insects had descended upon her skin. Her glasses had become a new kind of Chinese water torture on her nose and ears. She shook her head violently.

That last phone call. That horrible message. She'd said, "You're lower than a fucking toilet. You deserve to be part of the plumbing. Locked away like the septic tank you are."

It broke her heart--while leaving her with a profound need to satisfy this last deviant fantasy Elisha had gifted to her before kicking her to the curb. A fantasy that should have been impossible to realize.

I showed her! I've become exactly what she said I should be!

Lauren laughed through her welling tears as she tried to squeeze out the bladder of piss she knew she had inside her.

If I can just cum I can forget all about Elisha. Even for a minute...

The sound!

A rush of water followed by the mechanical grind of motors filled the air above her. It was a sound she was growing to know and anticipate...and it still sent shivers down her spine. She could feel Little Lauren begin to ache. If anything would allow her to let go of her inhibitions this surely would be it--feeding time!

The noise stopped with an abrupt "Click!"

There was a few seconds of nothing, then the musical gurgle of something large rapidly descending through the tube.

"Splat!"

A putrid mud hit the back of her throat, filling her cheeks and backing up into the first few feet of vinyl hanging from her mouth. Bitter, revolting and far runnier than she would have preferred, it could be nothing other than human waste, processed to the consistency necessary to be pushed through several feet of tubing to reach her toilet face.

Her body was alive. Fire danced across her skin. She paced herself, swallowing slowly so as to not choke and so the repulsive semi-liquid remained in contact with her tongue for as as long as possible.

Elisha was right about one thing. This, she could do. And do well.

Maybe she didn't deserve to sit under Elisha's goddess ass to receive her gifts directly from the source. Maybe her lips were too filthy, too repulsive to dare to pollute the sacred ground of a mistress's divine rosebud. Perhaps her best use was as the final destination at the end of an interconnected system of pipes and machinery designed to carry waste as far away from the humans as possible.