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From: hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com (Hungry Guy)
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Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} HUNGRY FOR EMDAMANIA {Emdamania and Hungry Guy} (M/F Mdom Fsub Mpov Fpov ws scat copr humil nosex caution)
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Date: Thu, 15 Sep 2005 04:10:05 -0400
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{ASS} HUNGRY FOR EMDAMANIA {Emdamania & Hungry Guy} (M/F Mdom Fsub 
Mpov Fpov ws scat copr humil nosex caution) 
BY:  Hungry Guy (hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com) & Emdamania

    * CHAPTER 1 *
    * BY EMDAMANIA *

    She knelt at his feet.  Looking up at him fully clothed but with 
his semi flaccid penis hanging outside of his open trousers, her 
nerves crackled with excitement.  This was not to be some ordinary 
blowjob, although at 36 she still enjoyed a tremendous thrill from 
the thought of eagerly and joyfully providing oral pleasure for a man 
knowing that the only reciprocal stimulation for her was purely 
cerebral.  This was the mutually decided upon first step toward a new 
beginning for her.  This was a special arrangement that could have 
been said to have taken the 20 years she had wanted to do this for or 
the eight months of apprehensive but anticipatory Internet 
correspondence they had just concluded.  Their meeting had been 
accidental, their conversations unprecedented, their plans 
meticulous, their desires, in tandem...  

    In that moment frozen in time at his feet, her heart beating a 
bruise into her chest from the inside, she reflected on all that they 
had discussed.  All that she had always wanted, all that she had 
fantasized about continually and thus unconsciously had prepared her 
entire life for.  The service, the submission, the ritual torture and 
sexual abuse, the training and abject humiliation.  All voluntary.  
All completely willingly.  The possible long term damage, the 
probable eventual modifications both deliberate and incidental...  
Was she passed it? She had always said that when she failed to give 
herself to a Dominant man she had come into contact with when she was 
22, she would probably never belong to another.  But here she was.  
Well-preserved and not bad to look at when dressed in her usual 
conservative attire.  Her stretching, diet, exercise and Yoga had 
really paid off since she began that regimen so many years ago.  

    She would have a new regimen now.  

    Aside from a few stretch marks on her thighs and hips, she could 
have passed for 28 had it not been for her sizable but somewhat 
sagging breasts, and that, she told herself, was mostly due to 
genetics.  (How that condition might now be accelerated far beyond 
what nature intended now with the binding and suspensions they had 
discussed set in as she tucked her right heel under her padded 
alabaster thigh and opened her mouth to prepare for the first taste 
of her new life.) She thought of herself as an object now.  The most 
logical evolution for her.  She was to become an object of lust.  Of 
sex, suffering and denial.  An object of torment and humiliation.  
There to be used and tortured for another persons enjoyment as they 
saw fit to use her.  And at just that very moment, when she felt the 
chill of a viscous and transparent dollop of her own vaginal mucosa 
that had been hanging in the air until then touch her right ankle, 
did she take him into her mouth for the first time.  

    He did not make her wait long, but long enough for her to 
contemplate the act she was about to perform.  Looking back down into 
her nervous gaze, he released his bladder and began to urinate 
directly into her mouth.  She was at once consumed with shame and yet 
there was relief as her feelings of sexual excitement blend with her 
deep humiliation and together swell into a symphony of intense long 
awaited sensation.  She swallows.  It wasn't much.  It is hot.  That 
much she can tell.  As her mouth fills again, the taste buds at the 
sides of her tongue are activated and she feels more than tastes the 
acidic content of his piss.  She instinctively grimaces, for it is a 
strong and bitter taste.  
It occurs to her that she is probably fighting some primordial human 
instinct by ingesting the liquid waste of another.  She swallows 
again.  It is coming faster now.  Her mouth and throat rebel and 
contract, but she is a woman of great will and has often fought 
against instinctual nature and deliberately set about to cause 
herself severe sexual discomfort.  Her mouth is flooded and she 
swallows again.  Her olfactory sensed are lit up and alive with this 
peculiar and new sensation.  It is as if she had been "plugged in" 
somewhere and now every fiber of her body, every sense were now 
amplified, only this was better then any experimental XTC trip she 
had taken at the trance clubs in the city.  She swallowed again.  It 
was all happening so quickly, and yet her mind slowed everything 
down, as if to dissect, examine and preserve every nanosecond for 
future access.  She was bordering on the verge of an involuntary gag 
response.  

    This was foreign to her.  She had long since lost her gag reflex 
during her bouts with Bulimia in middle school.  That was all behind 
her now.  There were far more interesting ways to be self 
destructive, and she had flirted with many of them.  She fought the 
urge to choke, steeled herself and then swallowed again.  Now 
settling into a rhythm, she believed she had it under control.  It 
would not be easy, but she was determined to persevere.  Gulping now 
in timed sequence with the contractions of his urethra, she drank of 
him and drained him and took him into herself a most intimate and 
unusual manner.  Her mouth and throat burned from the bitterness.  
She thought she might have detected coffee or even wine.  Breathing 
through her nose to keep up with him had opened yet another 
dimension.  Her nostrils filled with the scent of urine.  Male urine.  
Nothing she had commonly been this close to before.

    It made her think of what she was doing, what she was really 
doing, and what she was becoming.  She continued to drink and drink, 
each swallow becoming more effortless then the last, but still her 
mouth kept filling until it was no longer a matter of suppressing 
ones revulsion at the execution of this deed.  It was now becoming a 
simple fact of physics.  Her stomach was becoming full.  Just as this 
new concern was beginning to turn to alarm, she felt him subside a 
little and his flow slowed to a trickle.  She distantly heard herself 
moaning and making throaty sounds.  They were ecstasy sounds.  Sex 
sounds.  Love making sounds.  Was she so turned on by this? The 
dangling string of lubrication was now a small puddle that moistened 
her thigh and leg.  Although sexually unrelieved and technically not 
satiated in the conventional sense, her eyes were glazed over and she 
felt sleepy.  A dreamy feeling came over her and she felt at peace.  
She held his penis between her lips within the wet nest of her 
cheeks.  No orgasm could ever have felt that good.  This was where 
she belonged.  

    * CHAPTER 2 * 
    * BY HUNGRY GUY *

    Tensing his pelvic muscles, he squeezed out that last squirt of 
piss into her mouth while her lips still clung to his shaft like a 
tight rubber ring.  He had written many erotic stories about this 
sort of activity, and had accumulated a small following of fans, both 
male and female, but had never truly expected a woman to offer 
herself to him thusly--to be his slave, to literally own her body, to 
user her mouth as his toilet whenever the need came upon him.

    "Stand now, Emdamania," he said.  

    She stood.  He could see the melodrama going on in her eyes--the 
thrill of giving into her fetish to be a human toilet and of becoming 
his slave--and the terror of giving total ownership of her body to, 
basically, a total stranger. 

    "Follow me," he said as he led her upstairs to his bedroom.

    "You will sleep on that mat on the floor next to my bed."

    "Yes, Master," she said.

    "I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night to piss.  So..."

    "Yes, Master?" she said with a little more excitement in her 
voice.

    "So--when I wake up and say 'Toilet!' you will sit up 
immediately, lean forward, and open your mouth so that I can use you 
as my urinal.  "

    "Yes, Master!" she said.  

    "That way, I don't have to walk all the way out of my room to the 
bathroom to pee."

    "Yes, Master.  This is exactly my purpose in life."

    "For now, remove your clothes.  You will never need them again."

    "Are you going to fuck me now, Master?"

    "No.  I don't fuck toilets.  But toilets don't need to wear 
clothes.  So, c'mon!"

    Emdamania removed her clothes, and stood there naked in front of 
him.  She then lay down on the mat he placed on the floor next to his 
bed, pulled the thin blanked over her body, and rested her head.  

    At that, he showered and got in bed a little later. 

    Indeed, once or twice, he climbed out of bed in the darkness of 
the night and spoke, "Toilet!"

    Sleepily, she sat up and leaned forward, with her mouth agape.

    He stepped up to her and inserted his soft member into her oral 
cavity come his urinal.

    His pee flowed freely as she gulped it down.  She was still new 
at this, so she struggled to swallow it fast enough not to dribble on 
her bedding. 

    The next day, before leaving for work, he instructed her to stand 
in the middle of the floor in his spare room.  As she stood there, he 
shackled her wrists behind her back.  Then he tied a cotton rope 
tightly, but not too painfully, around one of her breasts.  He 
threaded the rope through an eye-hook screwed securely into the 
ceiling and into a beam above the ceiling paneling.

    Taking the free end of the rope, he tied it to her other breast.  
Then he got ready and left for work. 

    The hours passed.  As long as she stood motionless, the rope 
didn't hurt so badly.  But it was exhausting to just stand there.  
Bending her knees, even slightly, caused the rope to pull on her 
breasts.  Removing any of her weight off her feet would just transfer 
her weight to her breasts, as if she was hanging by her breasts.

    The hours dragged by so slowly as the discomfort and exhaustion 
increased with each passing second.  

    Finally, he arrived home from work and released her.  

    "I have something for you," he said.

    * CHAPTER 3 *
    * BY EMDAMANIA *

    She stared at the 24-ounce bottle.  It was filled to the lid with 
piss he had collected and saved for her during his time away from 
home today.  It was dark orange yellow and a little bit cloudy.  It 
was disgusting.  It was his piss, and she was going to have to drink 
it.  

    "Well!  What are you staring at?  Go on now drink it!" he 
gestures to the bottle of fluid, now room temperature.  

    She is reminded of the bottles she has seen on the Thruway exits 
of motorists who could not wait.  The thought to her is repellent.  
He gives the black bulb in his hand a squeeze and the inflatable 
rubber dildo inside of her pussy increases in diameter.  She 
flinches.  

    "Drink my piss, you wretched cow!" and he pumps again.  

    "Wait!  Wait!  I'm sorry!  You're stretching me.  I can't."  This 
was different than from his training, still in its early stages when 
he would pee directly into her mouth in short measured spurts to 
allow her to keep up with him.  She was actually face-to-face with 
this cursed and paradoxical act.  Confronted with what she was doing.  
He raised the bulb.

    "Ok, Ok.  Please don't stretch me anymore.  I will do it."  She 
lifts the bottle from the table.  Her face contorts and grimaces the 
bottle comes under her nose.  Usually she is spared the indignity of 
smelling the stuff.  Usually it passes over her tongue and straight 
into her belly one reluctant swallow at a time.  She takes a small 
mouth full.  Her chin quivers and she gags, but she swallows it.  

    "You knew you would have to do this when you agreed to come here.  
Tell me you like it when I make you drink piss."  He gave the bulb 
another squeeze.  

    "I like it!  I like it!  Please!  Please!  Please, no more 
stretching!"  She took a big mouthful and swallowed very quickly, 
making a face like she sucked a lemon after.  She deserved this, but 
she was not adept enough at the task and feared what another pump 
might do to her already throbbing pussy.  She took the bottle in both 
hands and tilted in into her mouth and began gulping.  She screwed 
her eyes closed and curled her toes but continued to swallow.  

    He watched her throat move as her head tilted back.  When she had 
finished, she released a long belch unbecoming of the well-preserved, 
conservative, and classy woman that arrived a few short weeks ago, 
but suitable of the dog-fucking human toilet she was there to become.  

    "Say it!" he said, holding the bulb.  

    "I like it when you make me drink your piss.  I am a piss whore.  
It turns me on to be your toilet.  This is my calling.  Thank you."

    "Do you want more?"

    Tears welled up in her eyes and her face turned red and her chin 
started quivering with fear again.  

    "Lay down."  He points to a low padded table.  He attaches the 
suction cylinders to her nipples and flicks on the machine.  The 
dreaded hissing sound begins again.  She is producing.  

    "There we go.  I can feel where they are swollen, full and 
heavier than yesterday.  We will suck them dry."  He then placed a 
wire metal frame over her face and dropped a large clear plastic 
funnel into it.  This held it upright, over her mouth.  He connected 
a clear plastic tube from the end of the funnel and placed the other 
end into her mouth.  

    "Tell me you want this."

    "Please!  I'm so full."

    "Tell me you want this!"

    "I am your urinal.  It turns me on when you piss into my mouth.  
Please use me." 

    He released the valve and slid the dildo out and whistled for the 
dog who pranced in and immediately stuck his snout in between her 
legs and started licking.  Moving back to the head of the table, he 
unzipped and pointed his penis into the clear plastic funnel and 
said, "Look!  Watch it come out of me.  This is my piss.  You are my 
urinal.  Don't you forget it!  I want you to watch yourself drink.  
Next week we start filming.'

    The dog licked, the suction hoses hissed and drew milk and he 
began to fill the container inches above her face directly in front 
of her eyes.  

    "You are a toilet.  You must get used to this."  His urine filled 
the funnel and her hips ground in ecstasy.  He was training any 
thought of normal sex out of her, and it was happening quickly.  He 
increased the suction as he finished pissing and sat down in a 
comfortable chair to watch her drink leisurely as she was milked.

    * CHAPTER 4 *
    * BY HUNGRY GUY *

    He had just taken a shit one afternoon.  

    "Emdamania!" he called out.  "Come here!"

    His slave girl came running up the stairs and into the bathroom.  
"Yes, Master?"

    "I just took a shit."  He leaned over, putting his palms on the 
edge of the bathtub, pointing his ass at her.

    "Lick my ass clean."

    "Master!  Please!  Please don't make me do that!"

    "Do it!" he ordered. 

    "Yes, Master," she squeaked and knelt behind him.

    He felt her part his ass cheeks with her fingers.  A moment 
later, he felt the warm wetness of her tongue sliding up over his 
shitty sphincter.

    After a few seconds, when he had felt she had done a reasonable 
job, he said, "Good enough."  He paused for a moment and asked, "How 
do you like being my slave so far?  Do you wish to continue?"

    * CHAPTER 5 *
    * BY EMDAMANIA *

    Emdamania thought for a few moments, then answered,  "I think I 
would like to be shackled to the low bench in preparation for a more 
permanent station."  

    "Well..." he started to say. 

    "I have this image of me laying on my back, maybe in a bed or a 
low laying bench and [you] walking over to me and standing over my 
head from behind.  You tell me to open my mouth and when I do you 
point your flaccid dick into it.  I imagine your cock head being only 
a few inches at most away from my lips.  You can feel my breath on 
your cock it is so close.  Then you start pissing and my mouth fills 
up.  When it is full part way you tell me to hold it.  I have to 
breathe through my nose and I can smell the piss in my mouth.  Then 
you tell me to gargle and then close my mouth.  You tell me to swish 
it around so that I can taste it.  You call me a disgusting whore and 
tell me to swallow.  I do but I gag because it is so gross.  Then I 
lay my head back and open up my mouth again and look at you standing 
above me, your dick pointing at my face only inches away.  You ask me 
if I want more. i tell you I want to be your urinal and i want to 
learn to drink your piss.  I tell you I am ready for more.  Again you 
fill my mouth partially.  The sound of the liquid filling the hollows 
of my cheeks causes my pussy to drip at the thought of how nasty I am 
being.  You tell me to swallow.  I do.  You say, 'What do you say?'.  
I tell you, 'Thank you.'  You tell me that you are turning me into a 
piss-drinking whore.  I smile and open my mouth and request more.  
You say I am improving but that it will get worse before it gets 
better.  I tell you I want to suffer and be degraded."

    * CHAPTER 6 *
    * BY HUNGRY GUY *

    "Very well," he said.  "Come with me, piss whore."

    A moment later, they were standing before his "special" closet 
that was secured with a padlock.  With key in hand, he removed the 
lock and opened the door.

    "What do you see in there?" he asked, pointing into the open 
closet.

    "Three big trunks, leather straps, and a pile of BDSM toys.  What 
is that thing that looks like a metal mouth?"

    "Oh, that?  That's a mouth spreader.  Dentists use it during oral 
surgery."  He laughed and said, "I use it for OTHER things."

    "Oh!" she said.

    "Do you know what is in the trunks?"

    "No, Master.  What is it?"

    "Your new home!  For the rest of your life!  Help me remove the 
trunks." 

    Together they slid the heavy trunks out of the closet set them 
down.  He opened each of them, revealing their contents.  

    "Oh my god!" she gasped.  "Really fantastic!  Wow!"

    With the tools within, he assembled the device: a long padded 
bench with a wooden toilet at one end and assorted belts, shackles, 
and stockades at various locations.

    He flipped the toilet open at a horizontal seam in the wood and 
said, "Lie down."

    "Yes, Master." 

    She lay in the device, placing her head in the bottom half of the 
open toilet seat, and placing her wrists and ankles in the open 
stockades.  

    He closed the toilet over her head, and closed the stockades over 
her wrists and ankles.  Then he strapped her across her chest, 
stomach, thighs, and lower legs.  He attached numerous padlocks to 
the toilet box and stockades.

    "I know this is what I want; and it is what I deserve, but I'm a 
little scared, Master."

    "Well, you'll get used to it.  You had better!  You'll never be 
out of this thing again for the rest of your life.  From this moment 
on, you are a human septic system."

    The last thing he did was pick up one of two objects made from 
PVC drain pipe.  One was a section of pipe with a 45-degree angle 
piece at one end; that was for a male toilet; the angle piece went 
over the toilet's penis.  The other was a straight section of pipe 
capped at the end with a narrow oblong cut near one end of the pipe; 
that was for a female toilet; the oblong cut faced the toilet's 
vagina and clitoris.

    At that, he closed the toilet lid onto her face and left the 
room, closing the light and the door as he left.

    Later that night, he returned to the spare bedroom.  Opening the 
lid, he stood there, slid his penis out of his BVD's and pissed on 
her face as any male would use any toilet.  She was plunged into 
darkness immediately after.

    She spent a restless night.  It was uncomfortable, to say the 
least, to spend the night on her back, strapped and shackled in one 
position, with her head held rigidly in place.

    He peed once or twice during the night.   

    But when he came to her in the morning, he looked down at her and 
said, "Open your mouth."

    She did as instructed, and he sat on her face with his anus 
directly over her mouth.  He was about to give his slave her first 
taste of solid waste--shit.    

    He felt the pressure of his shit in his bowels--the need to have 
a bowel movement.  He sucked in a breath and pushed.  The feeling of 
his shit sliding past his sphincter always felt good.  He had to 
press a little stronger since he was shitting into a sealed 
container: her mouth.  His 200-plus pounds pressing down on her lips 
made for quite an airtight seal.  Even if she resisted it, his 
abdominal muscles were ten times stronger than her throat muscles. 

    She had been holding her breath for about 20 seconds already--an 
eternity for someone to hold her breath.  He knew that she was 
feeling abject terror at that moment.  How much longer is he going to 
make her hold her breath?  What if he doesn't keep count of the 
seconds that he sits on her face and lets the minutes go by?  She is 
shackled in place, completely immobile, and she will suffocate and 
die in only a matter of minutes!  But that is much of the thrill and 
the rush of being a toilet slave--to be at the complete mercy of 
another person of the opposite gender while they use your body as a 
"thing" without caring about your safety or comfort.

    Her body was now bucking wildly and straining against her 
shackles in futility.  In time, she'll learn that will just use her 
air up faster.

    She had now been holding her breath for nearly 60 seconds.  And 
her next breath won't be for another two minutes--at least.  He 
pushed another lump of shit out of his asshole into her mouth. 

    Unbeknownst to her, though, he was keeping careful watch of the 
seconds on his watch.  He'd never tell her this, but he cherished 
her, maybe even loved her, though he will use her as nothing more 
than a sewage system from this day forward.  He would never, under 
any circumstances, let any genuine harm come to her.  

    He felt his bowels empty with that last lump of shit, so he told 
her to lick his asshole clean before he stands.  He knew she was in 
agony, and would take heroic effort to do as instructed.  He was 
pleased when she made the effort.  He felt her tongue brush against 
his quivering anus in her attempt to lick it clean.

    He stood and let her let out an explosive exhale.  She lay in his 
contraption gasping, the scent of shit emerging from her mouth, and 
filling the room.  He left the room to leave her in her misery while 
he went downstairs to have breakfast.

    Emdamania had been his full-time toilet slave for about a week.  
She had been locked in his toilet slave bed almost non-stop during 
that time.  Has had had nothing to eat or drink during that week 
except for his excrement and a daily multi-vitamin pill.  

    It had been comical the first time she puked up his shit.  During 
her second day of being his full-service toilet, a brown geyser shot 
up out of her mouth after he had taken a shit, and made a filthy mess 
of his toilet slave bed.  That had been the only time he had released 
her: so that she could wash the toilet-bed and then wash herself.   

    He came into her room one day carrying two tripods and several 
cameras.  He opened the toilet lid to reveal her face, grinned, and 
said, "It's show time!"

    "Yes, Master."

    He spent the rest of the afternoon pissing and shitting into her 
mouth.  With a full pot of coffee on the warmer, another on the 
stove, and a big glass of wine, he intended to keep her chugging.    

    Sometimes, he would stand and piss onto her like any guy would 
use a toilet.  Other times, he would sit on her face and slide his 
member into her mouth and watch his piss overflow past her lips.  

    He had had a big meal at Outback Steakhouse the night before.  A 
big juicy T-bone steak and steak fries always gives him the shits the 
following day.  

    He put _Black Sabbath_ in the CD player to set the appropriate 
dark and mystical mood for the movie.  Then he started all the 
cameras going.

    The first time he shit, he sat on her face and shit directly into 
her mouth like he usually does, but that doesn't show anything to the 
camera except to catch her chewing and swallowing a turd of shit 
after he had finished.  

    The next time he shit, he squatted over her face.  "Catch my shit 
with your mouth as it drops out of my asshole," he told her.  

    "Yes, Master," she said.

    The two cameras got a good show from that, showing lumps of shit 
falling from between his legs into her mouth as she chewed and 
swallowed the solid sewage while _Hard Road_ played in the 
background.

    The day continued like that until evening when he packed up his 
cameras and left her in the darkened room. 

    He spent the following day editing the scenes and producing a 
Toilet Slave movie on DVD to sell copies on e-Bay. 

    * TO BE CONTINUED??? *

    _It's your turn Emdamania..._
 

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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