Part 1: Day One

Our week starts on a Sunday afternoon. My wife is out of town for 10 days, out of the country even, and I have arranged with you to grant you control over me for seven days, inclusive, from Sunday 3 pm to Sunday 3 pm. We meet that afternoon and we visit the same airport hotel where we had played last. The scent of your incense masking the smell of decay in the room, I remove my clothes so you can inspect me and make sure I have followed your instructions. My public hair was gone--not merely shaven but waxed off smooth, nothing to be seen on my cock or scrotum.

"You are clean?" you ask and I reply, "Yes, Ma'am, three times as you instructed." Not that you can tell, though you are satisfied with the response that I am clean inside and out. "And the water?" you inquire with a quizzically cocked eyebrow. Again, I nod, saying, "One pint every hour since I woke up this morning and no using the bathroom. It was tough to hold back during the enemas and I drank whatever pee snuck out while I was . . . relieving myself. A total of six pints." You laugh, saying tersely, "Perv." I reply, "Yes, Ma'am."

You curtly say, "From now on, no talking back, answer only what you are asked." I smile and reply, "Yes, Ma'am." You flick a finger at the lockbox, "Put your clothes away." I comply, putting everything nearly in the steel box then locking it. "The items I told you to bring?" I set them out before you on the bed--a ring gag, a pint of cherry tomatoes, my bondage mittens, a few rolls of black vet wrap, a funnel with a plastic tube coming out the end, and a few clear plastic bags. Oh, and lastly, my CB-2000 cock cage and a brand new lock still in the package lock. You make some non-verbal noise, then say, "CB-2000? Isn't that the old one?" I answer, "Ma'am, when I am flaccid, I am rather small. This model is the most confining for me." You laugh, "Slut."

Without ceremony, you grab both of my nipples, that pincher grab, tugging them, and they are instantly on fire and my cock swells, "Ah, you remember that." You tug and pull and twist until my skin gets pink around your fingers then you stop. You rummage in your bag, taking out the clover clamps, chuckling as you attach them gingerly, watching me rise on to my toes as you do it, then settle down as the ache sets in. You tug the chain, watching me, waiting for me to react and smiling when I do. You pull slowly, hard, relentless, my breathing quickening until they nearly pull off then you let the chain drop. You then pick up the bondage mittens, undo the buckle and velcro, then look at me. I raise my arms and you smile, slipping them over the fingers which naturally curl into fists. You velcro and buckle them then put locks on the buckles. You take up the ring gag and walk behind me. My hair is neatly plaited, out of the way, and you press yourself against my back, letting me feel your jeans, your shirt, your clothed-ness against my naked-ness. I feel you reach around and open my mouth to accept the ring which fits neatly and tightly behind my teeth. You tug the straps tight, I work my mouth to settle them against the corners of my lips, then you buckle the gag.

"OK, I am going to teach you to be my toilet. You will need this Wednesday. We will be spending the night in a much nicer hotel and you will be my furniture for 24 hours. All of my furniture. You remember my no porcelain fantasy, I presume, you perv? You will cease to be a who and begin to be an it. So, for now on until I tell you otherwise, you are an it. No talking, no moving unless I tell you. I want to nod, and "its" don't nod.

My cock swells some more and I don't move. You attach cuffs to my ankles then push me to the ground, laying me on my back with my knees up. You lock each wrist to its corresponding ankle and take yet another sip from the water bottle you have been nursing since I picked you up. "And after we are done with toilet training, if you do a good job, I will torture you some before I lock you up." You move around the room and you say to no one in particular, "Objects don't see unless the are told to see." And I close my eyes. More rustling, the sound of pants unzipping, sliding down your legs. Though I can't see it, I feel your presence over me, I shiver a little, waiting. My tongue feels the end of the tube as it passes the ring gag and you say, "Now, a toilet waits until its owner is done with her business to flush.

"Open your eyes." I open them and see you squatting above me, facing away from my body, the funnel between your legs, you poised to release into it. "Part of your job between now and Wednesday is to find a better way to do this, some seat, something. You claim to be smart and creative, you will come up with something." I wait and I can see you inhale and exhale, parting your labia with one hand as you squat, seeing your body relax then hearing the hot stream hit the funnel then tasting the nutty flavor of your pee as it begins to fill my mouth. I wait to swallow, as I believe this to be your wish as my mouth fills, breathing through my nose as best I can, until the stream stops and you stand, looking down at me, still holding the funnel in my mouth, and smile, enjoying my struggle, finally saying "Whoooosh" and which point at swallow down the slowly cooling pee that fills my mouth. "What a perv," you comment, eyeing my swollen cock. "Won't that be fun when it is confined."

I lay motionless, the pee gurgling in my belly, my breath quicker once again now that my mouth is empty. "Close your eyes" you command and I comply. I feel something on my face, plastic, thin, a bag? You push it against my nose and eyes, opening it up. Again, I sense you squatting over me, feel the funnel deeper in my mouth, you command, "Open" and I do. I seethe funnel is the same though you are shifted back more. Though the bag partially obscures it, I have a somewhat clear view of your anus, a few inches from my face. "I would ask you if you were ready, but you are an it. The toilet is always ready." I taste some dribbling of your pee coming into the funnel which distracts me and then I see you bear down some, the crinkled anus opening, the inevitable emerging, suddenly more quickly, falling onto my plastic covered face, across my nose and eyes, once, twice, then your body relaxes again and your stream of pee fills the funnel once more, I hold it in my mouth and I sense you bearing down again, a third piece emerges, laying across the others. You wipe yourself and rise, still holding the funnel, tossing the paper into the bag, looking down at me and smiling, shaking your head, finally saying, "Flush" and I swallow down your pee, a pile of your excrement on my face in the bag.

"Now, since I am done, you will dispose of that in the most usual way. You stand back and it is clear I shall get no help. I turn my head carefully so that the bag slides off an onto the floor, thank fully without spilling. I work my way up onto my knees and look at you plaintively. You laugh and remove the ring gag and I bend over and take the bag in my teeth, carefully avoid any of the matter it contains though unable to avoid the scent. I crawl on my knees to the bathroom and find the seat down. I lower the bag, raise the seat with my mouth, deposit the bag, then lower the seat, finally flushing with my mouth before returning to my previous position, letting you replace the ring gag. "Well done. But how badly can a toilet malfunction? Don't answer that!"

You drag me up and sit me on the edge of the bed after unlocking my arms from my ankles. Next, you take up the black vet rap and begin circling my head--you carefully cover my eyes and ears though I can still hear somewhat, you wrap over the gag straps, across my chin and under my nose, leaving the nostrils exposed. Soon, I am sure my head is a black mass of the vet wrap with only my nostrils and mouth expose. My own bladder is bursting by this point and your relieving yourself has made it worse. And there is no complaining.

I feel a collar fixed around my neck, you move my arms to behind my neck and affix them there. I had forgotten the nipple clamps and you remove them without ceremony causing me to moan pitifully. You press and massage them and I hear through the vet wrap you murmuring about them likely scabbing again. That does not stop you from putting the clamps on again though now it seems you have put the chain through a ring on the collar so any head movement tugs on them.

For what seems like a long time, I teeter on the edge of the bed. Sound is obscured and I wonder what you are doing. I feel a gloved hand on my penis which stirs with the attention. Something cold, like being swabbed down. Then a different cool, like lube, at the tip, then something entering my urethra. I want to panic, though I recall the sensation--a catheter slipping up my half flaccid cock quickly, I breathe quickly then try to slow my breathing. You feel resistance and wait, then push a little harder, and I sense it has gone into my bladder. I feel a strange sensation and I realize it is a foley with a ballon to hold it in. I don't feel much release, though, and I realize you must have it clamped off. It feels strange to be invaded, taken by this small tube, which further leads to a lack of control.

You guide me to lay on the bed with the catheter still inside of me and I hear you laugh. You place a number of pillows or cushions under me, raising my hips up off the bed, perhaps a foot or so. My head is swimming, so much out of control I am. You push my legs up to bend my knees and bind my thighs to my ankles, leaving me exposed. A hand at my own bottom, so clean from the three enemas earlier today, something pressing against my anus, something slipping in, then the weird sensation of the inflation of internal and external balloons to keep the tube in place. Then the coolness of water entering me, slowly, relentlessly, clearly a large bag draining into me until it is empty. My own urine blocked by the catheter, my body filled with the enema. Then I don't feel you close to me. I feel just the full feelings.

Then my bladder releases, it seems you have opened the clamp to free my urine. And suddenly my mouth is filled with the tart taste of my own pee, you have aimed the other end of the catheter tube into the ring gag. I convulse with surprise, the water sloshing inside of me, swallowing instinctively, then the stream stops as does the release of my bladder. You lean close, "I did not flush. I will fill my toilet again and there will be a sign to flush. Only when desperate will my toilet flush." You lean again, again the stream filling my mouth, I don't swallow, I am nearly full, then you press my nose closed tightly, My mind races, wanting to choke, wanting to obey. When I can stand it no longer, I swallow then gulp for air and you release my nose. My whole body sweats and shakes, from the toilet torture, from being filled.

You caress my face through the vet wrap then I hear and feel you spit in my mouth. Once, twice, then hesitation, then a partially chewn tomato, which I swallow. And another, and another. Two more tomatoes do I swallow before you are done and my body is bucking on the bed. You know how much I hate the taste and feeling of the tomatoes. I feel your presence above me again, feel the tip of the funnel on my tongue, then the stream of your pee mixing with the remnants of tomato, holding it in my mouth again until I feel you squeeze my nose closed again and I wait as long as I can to swallow it down. You wipe yourself dry and leave the tissue on my face. I feel you take away the pillows then I can feel the catheter being withdrawn, you cleaning my still half erect penis. When you are done, I feel you manipulating the CB-2000 on to my cock which is straining to get hard and then you finally get it on and lock it tightly.

Off come the nipple clamps with a scream and you rub the sore spots mercilessly. Next my arms are released from my neck and the collar removed, then you unwrap my head, my eyes opening to the light of the room, somewhat spacey from all that I have been through. You look at them and then lay a slap across each cheek to get my attention. You undo the mitts and flex my fingers. You undo my legs and walk me to the bathroom. You deflate the balloons and allow me to release the water within me finally.

Finally, you guide me to kneel at the end of the bed to watch you get yourself off, admonishing me to be still and quiet while you reach your climax. You then send me to shower and when I emerge, my clothes have been restored from the box though a pair of frilly lace panties has replaced my briefs. "You can talk now, perv. On Wednesday, you will not only be my toilet, you will be all of my furniture from midnight Wednesday until midnight Thursday. Since we'll be in a hotel so you will also make up the room while I have lunch. Until then, you will come up with a suitable toilet seat for me to use with you, is that understood?" I slowly answer, "Yes Ma'am, thank you Ma'am."