PPE

CHAPTER 1

Before the operation, I checked around with the Doctor. We had done pretty well for PPE I thought, though they had been difficult to obtain. We had enough gowns and gloves and the right sort of masks. Eye protection was correct and well fitted. The masks were well fixed and comfortable.

Women started coming in from the changing room in their gowns.

"Welcome to the Piss Party!" I said.

"Now we have some men as what I like to call PPE, Piss Party Equipment: toilets and shower basin. I do want to say a word about them, as well as remind you of some practical rules."

"Firstly, although I am a dominatrix (as I hope my costume shows) the PPE are here for humiliation, not physical punishment. Do not kick them in the balls or otherwise cause pain. They are just to be used as equipment for the party. Your piss will be sufficient humiliation, though you are welcome to make insulting remarks. This is a party and you are here to have fun with other girls. There will be plenty of drinks of course."

"Secondly, this is not a Piss and Poop Party. Please use the regular toilet for pooping."

"Thirdly, this is my husband, a medical doctor whose name is Hugh. As you can guess, he is often called Dr Who or The Doctor. Even other doctors call him The Doctor."

"He is my obedient slave, of course. However, he is my slave, not yours, and it would be a big mistake to forget that. He will not bother you unless you do something dangerous. He is here for safety, and will clean up afterwards. He built this whole unit."

"For drinks, please do not have more than two beers, except for the lite ones. There are soft drinks and water. You might like to try the dandelion drink, which is a good diuretic."

"There are also two chilled wine bottles. One contains my nectar, the other the Doctor's piss. Let me know if you would like one to take home."

"Now to the equipment: urinals and shower room. The shower room is at the bottom level, with the PPE restrained in place in a trough sunken below floor level. There are a number of toilet seats with a front opening where you can sit comfortably and aim. You can also walk around and aim from anywhere, but please try not to pee on the floor too much, as this could make a slipping hazard. There is one seat for pissing directly on his face, and another for his genitals, though you can also do it from the side. Please do not hog these. Use your female funnel if you wish."

"Do not do anything other than peeing on him, please. He is not a urinal, so is permitted to close his mouth. Eye protection is a necessary precaution."

"By the way, there is space should anyone wish to join him in the shower tray. We recommend goggles."

"And please use the footwash when you leave the room."

"Let's look at the urinals. You each have a female funnel in the pocket of your gown. You can place it on yourself and insert it into his mouth through the hole in the mask. The mask is because it is not a cunnilingus party. It is very pleasant to empty your bladder in this way, and he has to take the full flow."

"This is meant to be hygienic for you, so wash your funnel in the sink provided and put it in your gown pocket till next time. His mask means he is unable to lick you, so just use a tissue and drop it on him."

"You will see a cage and a catheter tube going from each urinal's drain down to the shower room. This accumulates in what we call a drench, where the whole lot is suddenly released onto the shower PPE's face when full. Keep your eye on the level."

"Now get yourself a drink, and party on!"

The party was a success and many followed. The main thing I had to watch out for was ladies pouring anything other than their pee into our human toilets. They take a surprising amount of pee, but it is unfair to give them more and risks choking. A newcomer was warned and her deposit not returned.

Of course, the women sometimes farted, especially on the seats, but that was OK. The no pooping rule was observed, though we did get requests.

From the men.

CHAPTER 2

In the toilet, I wiped myself, stood up and flushed.

In a moment there was a knock and a man's voice said "Toilet paper, mistress."

I opened the door to see a man wearing nothing but a cock cage kneeling in front of me.

"Well, Simon," I said, "you have done well. You arrived as free man for our piss parties, but have learned how much better it is to have a woman control you."

"As promised, you have been chosen to act as a new role in our little games. Have you been doing as I told you?"

He knelt before me as I sat on my throne in the toilet cubicle.

"Yes mistress. I don't use toilet paper, just wipe with my hand then lick it clean. I have learned to manage it without being sick, mistress."

"Excellent!" I gave him a little smack on the balls with my shoe. Not a proper kick. Just enough to make him gasp.

"Now you are ready to be trained as human toilet paper. I have a couple of friends to help me."

"Let me be clear. You are now to stop tasting your own shit. That is a nasty male habit. You are being permitted the honor of worshipping women by cleaning their beautiful poop."

"Begin with me. I finished fairly cleanly, but my asshole will certainly need a good tonguing. As you see these are large cubicles, so there is room for the mistress to present her wonderful ass and for you to worship it on your knees."

I turned and bent over, holding onto the lid with my legs wide apart

The lad tried his best. When he stopped, I told him to carry on.

"Even if she is almost clean, you must clean just as thoroughly, especially the asshole."

I do love it when Hugh tongues me, though I usually make sure I am very clean first.

"Right, that will do," I instructed. "What do you say?"

"Thank you, mistress."

"Correct, now clean your tongue before next mistress."

He did this in the flush of the toilet.

Hetty went in, and he waited until he heard the flush.

"Toilet paper!"

The cubicle door opened and Hetty turned her rump. I had to laugh. She had obviously wiped it around

I told him "Be careful not to lick close to her wonderful cunt. By the way, you should wash your tongue part way through to give a good job."

He licked away, and washed his tongue a couple of times.

"Thank you, mistress," he said, beaming with pride.

She strode off without a word.

It was the same procedure, and Celia presented herself.

She was somewhere between Hetty and me

He washed his tongue in the bowl.

"That was most unsatisfactory," said Celia. "You should be punished."

"Yes mistress," he said, and bent over the toilet with his legs apart and his face in the bowl.

She smacked him smartly on the balls, and his face went into the water.

"Thank you, mistress!" he said, gasping wetly.

I took him to the shower room, where he knelt down and my husband pissed in his mouth from a distance. He would not have the privilege of drinking directly from the fountain. When Hugh had finished, I was pleased to see Simon turn his dripping face to me and say "Thank you mistress."

"Simon, you have done well," I said. "But you have man piss on you, so shower before going home. As a reward, I have a bottle of my nectar to take with you."

When he had gone, Hugh brought us coffees and started cleaning up.

"Hugh's a treasure, isn't he," said Celia. "I wish mine was as good a slave."

"He will be, darling," I replied. "It just takes time and a lot of loving punishment."

"By the way, Hetty," I said, "How is it having two slaves? Your husband and Simon?"

"Really stimulating. I can't thank you enough for passing him on to me. You really are the mistress when it comes to training men! They more or less compete in trying to serve me, though Simon's the only one who's keen to be toilet paper. And the income of two men comes in handy."

"I think we've been very lucky with Simon," Hetty continued. "He really is the most talented toilet slave, sorry, bits of PPE, we've had, but some of the others are coming along. Your piss parties are doing really well, and I think more women are using their husbands at home."

"Every husband should drink his wife's pee," I said.

"I agree," said Celia. "I've told my daughter, if he won't drink a glass of your pee, he doesn't love you. You don't have to be a domme; it's just a way of proving he's prepared to show his devotion."

CHAPTER 3

Just then Hugh arrived.

"Is there anything you wish, mistress?" he said.

"It's all right, darling, Simon's gone."

We don't use words like that at home, he just obeys me. The costume's just for the sake of the slaves and the Piss Party clients.

"Now, Hugh, tell the girls about the shit."

"Well," he said, "I am her devoted servant and will do anything she asks me. The only exception is medical matters where I am still the family doctor. As you know, the urine of a healthy woman is sterile, the only risk comes from bacteria on the outside or cystitis."

"However, you will understand that there are some risks of infection with eating feces, especially from different people and strangers. Eating your own or that of a single person is less of a risk, because you will end up sharing the same gut organisms. The eater is likely to get occasional diarrhea, but will presumably accept sharing the discomfort if in a relationship. Eating from several women at a party was unacceptable to us, so we simulate it."

"I made a paste of vegetable material, flour and some food gel agent to get the right consistency. Then I used food grade coloring, a bitter taste and some smelly natural substances. It all seems very realistic: unpleasant but not harmful. Simon seems to show that it is believable, so we can offer the experience to would-be toilet slaves, if they are unable to find a woman to give them the real experience. There is quite a lot of demand, we think."

I took over.

"So what we think is this. We can have a Piss Party where some men pay to be urinals or shower trays. We can also allow one lucky man to pay extra for the privilege of being human toilet paper, where he waits adjacent to a cubicle. We make sure that this is not actually used by the women guests, just us. Hugh will actually make a slightly different formulation for each of us, and we will present something like we did to Simon."

"I thought of offering what we did with Simon as a toilet training course, probably taking a year or so. He must complete and of course pay for sufficient service as a urinal before he receives his final test, and is then ready to actually eat poop from a mistress. While many men like the idea, they are not all able to go through with it. A certificate from us might be helpful for a man seeking a mistress in this way, and prevent women needing to deal with time-wasters. We would of course verify the qualification for the mistress."

"There are some variations we have thought about, including being blindfolded under a toilet seat and having a turd dropped into his mouth. It will be at body temperature, so will seem directly from the ass. This could be a single log or squeezed out like a from a toothpaste tube. A puff of smelly gas will help."

"This will be much more expensive for the man, of course."

"While the enquiries come mainly from men, we have some women who would like to humiliate their slaves in this way, but are not comfortable with using their own poop."

"What about women eating shit?" asked Celia. "There's quite a lot of it on the web."

"I thought about it, and I don't want to be in the business of men humiliating women. There's enough of that in the world already. Anyway, I doubt there are many women willing to pay for the privilege."

"Hetty works in catering of course, so Hugh and I had the idea of a ladies' lunch, where women bring their husbands to eat shit."

"Brilliant!" said Celia.

"I thought you'd like it," I said. "So we've arranged for you to see Hugh enjoy a turd salad, as we have a more conventional one."

He served us, and went back for his. I heard the microwave.

He returned with a nice salad with a steaming turd in the middle of his. We had white wine. He had some of my chilled piss. He had to have some water as well, for health reasons.

"That's wonderful," said Hetty, watching Hugh. "You say it has some nutrition?"

"Yes," said Hugh. "A lot of it is cellulose -- undigestible vegetable matter like cabbage stalks and from a gel used to relieve constipation. But some is digestible, and there is flour. It is a source of calories and some other substances, but on the low side. A slimming food, in fact, and vegetarian."

"We also think some women might also like to incorporate into their slave's diet as it provides some nutrition at a penalty. This would be good if you are uncomfortable sharing your own poop."

Hetty cut in: "But you could add other things, like pasta? Could you make spaghetti meatballs?"

"Yes," he answered, "of course."

"I could reformulate to give a stronger turd, rather than one for wiping. We could add something like mushrooms or Quorn to give some protein value and texture, but it would still taste like shit."

"Could you make it like a hot dog, to eat in a bun?" asked Celia.

"Hmm, yes. It would be simple to put it in a standard sausage skin to have in a bun."

"You could call it a hot log!" said Hetty excitedly. "It's the sort of thing that would be easier to package and sell than the fake poo. Would you like to have a go with me? It's a niche market, but it would be fun to try!"

So started a whole new venture.

Hetty bought (using Simon's money) a machine for hand-making sausages by pushing the mixture into a synthetic edible tube and employed him to make them. Slowly word got around. Many of the women we knew were pleased to use it as punishment for their subs, and we began to get enquiries from men. An advert for a pair of her pissed panties and some hot logs produced more interest than we expected and became a regular purchase for some men to feed their fantasies. We were quite clear that it was not actual shit, just providing the experience.

This was in addition to our Piss Parties, and what we called the Scat-House specials for men. A lot of these were theater, making it seem as if more people were involved as they waited patiently. The waiting is an important part, of course. You can't just give a slave what they want straight away.

It was gradual. It was just word of mouth, you might say, but Hetty decided to do more. And some other products were trialed in ladies' lunches. It was more than Simon and Hugh could manage on their own, so some more subs got involved. Their only reward was to lick Hetty's actual shit and to eat the occasional log from her. Unlike me, she did not mind doing this, whereas I find it a bit distasteful, so only use the fake poop.

The subs were useful tasters for the products.

There was a small food manufacturing company which produced cheap supermarket versions of brand name products, and an arrangement was made to run batches on their equipment when not busy, and to package it professionally. It was all food grade, and nut free. All that was required was to check the following product for a bitter taste.

"Looks good -- tastes like shit!" was our slogan. (Or poop where the word shit was not allowed.)

Madame Poopee's Special Recipes, was the brand, and Crap Foods was the trademark. I was in my dominatrix outfit with a chef's hat on the packet, though Hetty was in charge. The company was registered as Poo Pee Enterprises, abbreviated to PPE. (We also registered Pee Poo, Piss Party and Poo Party Enterprises.) There were soon imitations, but we had already established a fan base in what the fans themselves called the pervert market. However, what we did not expect was how it would take off outside.

The Hot Log was the first to hit the mainstream, being frequently bought as a prank, as you only got the taste when you bit into it. It was so popular that sales of hot dogs actually went down. However, we learned that many women used it as an occasional punishment or reward for their men (possibly from her ass), and some couples not in a recognized sub-domme arrangement began to start one in this way.

Slowly the range developed. With most of these, Hetty produced a version without the bitter flavoring so she could check the texture and mouth feel. Even then they were not pleasant.

The first was Turdelicious, the original paste, in a plastic tube a bit like sausages giving moderate sized turds, or could be spread anywhere you like -- on the body or on toast, for example. We eventually produced three colors with slightly different taste and aroma. A favorite recipe was to use the darkest to replace chocolate cream in a birthday cake. The lightest could be the heart of a lemon cream pie for the sub, while others get the standard one. With a little water it can be added to rice as the slave's meal, when you are having curry.

The Frankenfarter gives a strong odor when you bite or cut it, and had an initial surge of demand for use as a prank, but settled down to a useful market complement to the Hot Log. It is most effective when bitten, as the smell goes right in the mouth.

The Crapburger became a popular challenge among young men. There were contests on how many you could eat. It is more robust than Turdelicious and has a little bit of vegetable fat to make it glisten enticingly like a regular burger when warmed up. It can easily be fed to the sub when you eat a burger meal.

Doodoo Balls are the same composition but the size and shape of meat balls without the shine. They can be served with spaghetti or put in a drink as a floater.

Dire Rear sauce can be poured on any regular food, or served hot as brown gravy.

Scatsup is basically a concentrated and darker version of Dire Rear, with a bit more tang, and has actually been used in non-fetish recipes.

Musturd is really the same, actually colored with turmeric like regular mustard, and a little bit of actual mustard.

These can be simply added to normal food for a sub, even one who is not a toilet slave, just to spoil the meal.

Turducan is a vegetarian sliced meat substitute with three layers of different colors: yellow, brown and dark brown, each with a distinct flavor, and an interesting combination together. Ideal as a replacement for meat in a sandwich lunch. An occasional city sandwich bar offered it as an alternative, initially just for publicity, but acquired some regular custom.

Hetty is considering some kind of roll version for the Thanksgiving and Christmas market.

Poopage is a dry oatmeal-based breakfast food. We recommend it is prepared with sour milk. It can also be reconstituted with water overnight to give something like Turdelicious but with more texture. It can then be spread on the body or food. However, Hugh says that making it with regular milk and a little sugar gives a perfectly ruined food experience: so near and yet so far from satisfaction.

Cornhole Flakes are another breakfast option, for which sour milk is recommended.

Cornhole Chips are a crunchy snack for the sub while others have regular chips.

Poopy Bars are a chocolate-covered snack to be eaten anywhere and anytime.

Butt Fudge is another mock candy.

Madame Poopee's Chocolate Brownies do actually contain a little dark chocolate but are mostly like a sticky chewy turd.

Butt Nuggets were adapted from dry dog food to give most of a balanced diet: crunchy but full flavor. A slave could be fed almost nothing else.

A recent addition is Butt Biscuits and Cock Gravy so that the sub can participate in a favorite meal. The biscuits are not too far in composition from traditional Southern ones, apart from the revolting taste, odor and a shittier color. Those who have tried it agree Cock Gravy is a fair imitation of jizz in appearance and sliminess, but less appetizing. Hugh found some plant extracts giving the slightly rotting, slightly chlorine smell of strong aged semen.