Irma's Best, Messiest Party
Irma decided to make her usual Summer Solstice party this year especially interesting. She has this thing about designing ever-fancier slave toilets, and we decided to have an extra-messy party where we would use all of them. This meant arranging to have enough slaves to install in them and enough guests to keep the slaves busy. It took a lot of organising, but Irma is good at that. Luckily the weather was perfect - you can never be sure in England, even in the summer - so we could use her big garden as well as inside the house and all her well-equipped outhouses. People started to arrive on Friday afternoon. I'd been there, along with Bianca and a few others, for a couple of days to help get everything ready. Friday evening is by tradition just a kind of social event, with the real party on Saturday night, so a lot of people don't show up until Saturday.
We drove down with spot trussed up in the back of the car. We'd taken a lot of care, Bianca and I, to make spot's journey interesting, trying some new ideas. First we made him stuff shit into his ears and up his nose, then we wrapped duct tape around his head to hold it in place, incidentally making breathing a bit harder. Then we gave him a nice shit gag, an old stocking filled with shit and crammed into his mouth. He can't swallow it or the shit inside it, so it just stays in his mouth getting squishier and more revolting as time goes by. Then we pulled another old stocking down over his head before putting one of Irma's shit hoods filled with the rest of our morning shit over the whole thing. The nice thing is that he can't actually swallow any of the shit, though he can kind of suck at it through the nylon of the stocking. We led him down to the car naked apart from his hood and a pair of ballet boots, which made him extra careful. Once he'd clambered into the boot, we gave him a good thrashing then hog-tied him, with his ankles tied to a cord around his balls to encourage him to keep still. Before we put the thick rubber mittens on him, we pushed pins down several of his fingernails, listening to his muffled cries through the shit surrounding his head. He's such a pain slut that he got an erection as we did it. The journey to Irma's takes about four hours by car, but we stopped for a long lunch at a nice pub on the way, leaving spot to enjoy his restraints in the car. He did get some benefit from our stop though, because after the beer we'd had with lunch we both needed to piss, which we did into the breathing tube attached to his hood. The piss mixes with the shit-sludge inside the hood so he can't breathe properly, but the only way he can get rid of it is to slurp it through the nylon and swallow despite the shit gag that fills his mouth. The best thing was that he threw up just as he had nearly finished and had to start all over again. We rewarded him with a little ring of electrical clips around each nipple, then wanked him until his pre-cum started to ooze out. Then it was off for the last hour or so of our journey, listening to his muffled sobs when the radio was quiet. By this time Bianca was so turned on that she had to use the vibrator on herself while I was driving. It's amazing to think that less than six months ago her idea of perverted sex was doing it standing up.
When we arrived at Irma's, spot was in quite a state. We took him out and gave him another good thrashing, then set him to work cleaning the outhouses that were to be used for the party. We had to take off his rubber hood so he could see, which was a shame, but we left the stocking and his shit gag, by now nice and runny inside his mouth, and replaced it with a hood with open eyes. We left the duct tape and his ballet boots, and gave him some extra tight cock and ball bondage and a nice big butt plug.
The lead-up to the party was a lot of fun. A couple of Irma's other friends managed to get there early, and we kept ourselves busy organising the long-term slaves who happened to be there and doing the more enjoyable parts ourselves. By Friday afternoon everything was ready for people to start arriving. The guest bedrooms were made up, thanks to Irma's pair of sissy maids who had teetered round in their six-inch heels and maid outfits folding sheets, dusting and cleaning and so on. We had mountains of food ready to be cooked and eaten on Saturday. Spot had cleaned up the outhouses, sweeping floors with a broom stuck in his anus and licking difficult stains from the floors. He'd also served as toilet slave to most of us, no fancy equipment so far, just eating piles of shit off the floor. It was time now to get him ready for his weekend role, bound firmly in Irma's most elaborate slave toilet, the one that holds the slave in a standing-up position. When we have finished, his body is in the cellar of the house, standing in painful ballet boots, while his head is locked into the toilet that is accessed from the ground floor. He is naked, so we can beat him. His legs and bottom are already trembling from the effort of standing. We don't want him to break his neck, so his arms are strapped flat against the ceiling to support his weight if his legs buckle. But he isn't meant to do this by choice, so the straps are lined with long spikes, sharp enough to bruise and hurt but not to break the skin. He stands on a low platform that just keeps his neck at the right height. The ceiling is low, just about high enough for us to stand upright. On his cock is a vicious little anti-erection gadget, with sharp teeth on the inside that will dig deep into his flesh if he gets even the slightest erection. Bianca and I stand back to admire our handiwork, then she takes a crop and lays into him, covering his back and thighs and belly with strokes, making him howl and sob and stagger on his heels. Then she leaves the cellar, and shortly after I hear the floor creak above as she sits on the toilet. She has been saving herself for a long time, and I hear the swishing noise as she pisses into the toilet, the liquid running straight down and surrounding spot's head and filling his mouth. I see him swallow, rapidly so he can breathe, but she seems never to stop and soon his chest is heaving as he tries to breathe. Finally the noise stops. I hear a fart, then he is swallowing again as her shit fills the toilet. As I expected, the slut is getting excited, I see his cock stiffen inside the ring and then his whole body trembles as though he is trying to shake off his torment. I leave him for now. He'll be in this position for most of the weekend.
Friday evening was a lot of fun. There were a couple of dozen of us, mistresses, masters and slaves, just wandering round the downstairs of the house chatting, eating and drinking. OK, and a bit more than that. Most slaves aren't into anything nearly as heavy as spot, and they were with us, in various degrees of bondage, restraint and nakedness. The sissy maids were doing an excellent job (not that this stopped us giving them a good spanking from time to time) of serving drinks and nibbles, teetering round on their heels, their hands bound to the sides of silver platters. They were helped by a couple more visiting slaves, including one very striking tall blonde with gigantic tits, naked except for her thigh-boots and shaved completely bald. Her tray was conveniently attached to her nipple rings by short silver chains. Each time it was empty, her master would bend her over a chair and spank her or fuck her with a dildo. Just once I gave him a pleading look and, when he nodded, I knelt down and sucked her until she came, running my hands over her flesh and caressing her giant tits, squeezing her very full nipples around their rings, then licking at her anus, easing her open and tasting her. Anna had arrived by then, and she pulled me off (carefully waiting, I couldn't help noticing, until I'd finished) and gave me a sound spanking. I'm not really into pain (or I wasn't then anyway), unless it's from Anna. Then I just melt. By now things were getting pretty interesting all round. Anna led me to the toilet and pushed me to my knees, so I could wait there with my mouth open for the men to come and piss into me. To get things started, she half-squatted over me and I put my mouth round her lips and drunk from her. This was my first taste of her tonight and my fingers went quickly to my cunt, but she slapped my face, hard enough to sting, and cuffed my wrists behind me. Now I was bursting with excitement and frustration. There were already men waiting to use me. I held my mouth wide open, but splashes went over my face. I had to close my mouth to swallow, so soon I had dribbles running down my throat, into my cleavage and down the inside of my rubber dress. Some men have poor aim, and others didn't even try but just splashed it into my face and over my tits. I could feel rivulets of piss running down my dress and forming a little puddle around my bottom and cunt. Anna left me there for quite a long time, and by the time she came to get me most of the men had used me and several of the women too. We'd asked people to save their shit for the toilet slaves, but a few people had solved their hygiene problem by bringing me their dirty bottoms for me to lick clean. I was almost delirious with excitement by the time Anna released me, my mouth and belly filled with piss and the taste of something stronger. When I stood up piss flooded out of my dress and onto the floor, and without being told I was back on my knees licking it up. A rubber-clad girl - who I didn't know - threw herself to the ground and started to use her tongue on me. Her master quickly reacted with the crop on her bottom, and very quickly we both came. I kissed her rubber-covered lips and caressed her rather bony body through the rubber. "Please", she whispered, "let me have your piss, please". She put her mouth under my cunt and - well, who could resist a plea like that?
Bianca had not been lonely. We'd invited instep, the foot fetishist who she met at my place. He's very quiet and shy. She was wearing shoes that he bought for her, the strappiest of strappy sandals in black patent with a vicious stilletto heel and a modest platform. He was naked apart from some skimpy rubber briefs, the kind with straps across the bottom and nothing through the crotch that leave the anus and bottom completely exposed. He was following her around on his knees, giving constant attention to her feet and shoes. Occasionally she would let him pay attention to her thighs and cunt, easy enough given the tiny leather skirt she was wearing. When she was chatting to people she'd point to instep and to their feet or their slave's and say, "Do you mind if, you know...?" Nobody ever did mind, so instep was having the time of his life being foot slave to the whole party. He'd licked everything from bare feet (several slaves, both male and female), to wild fetish pumps (slaves, masters, mistresses, you name it), to biker boots (a lesbian domme) to dirty trainers (her slave, who was wearing just a filthy tee-shirt and miniskirt that got steadily filthier as the evening went on). And everything in between. Every now and then he'd get particularly excited over something and start rubbing himself through the triangle of rubber, and Bianca would ask, "Do you mind if he, you know, over them?". Nobody refused, and he'd wank himself over the shoes then polish them clean with his tongue. I've never known anyone that can come so copiously, so often.
As the evening wore on I started to get very full. It was time to give spot some exercise. The toilet was seriously stinky. I had one of the sissy maids bring a big jug full of dirty water from the kitchen with a few bits of old food floating in it, and threw that in first to clean him up a bit. He had to drink it all down - a couple of pints - before he could breathe again. It was a while before I heard him gasp for breath, sobbing and whimpering, and then I sat down and dumped everything I had in one quick contraction. It was neither solid nor runny, just a squishy sludge that slithered down the steep slope of the toilet and down to his waiting mouth. Then I set off down the steep stairs to the lower half, where his tormented body was on show. He is still swallowing when I arrive, his belly swollen and taut from all the shit and piss he has swallowed as well as the water I just gave him. His breath is very shallow and the muscles in his calves and thighs are trembling uncontrollably from the strain of standing canes and rods of all thicknesses. Blood is oozing from a few heavy bruises. His cock is huge despite the teeth of the bracelet. Dribbles of blood are running down his balls and inside his thighs. There is a lake of piss around his feet. I put my mouth around his cock and lick him until I can feel him ready to come and taste the first few drops. Then I kick both his boots out from under him. He screams as the spiked straps tear into his arms, gasping and sobbing as he scrabbles for balance on the boots. I take a thin, whippy cane and use it hard on his legs and his swollen belly. Then I squeeze his belly and, as I hoped, he retches, filling his toilet with a mixture of shit and piss and puke that he must instantly swallow so he can breathe. I beat him some more as he struggles desperately to swallow. I grab hold of his cock, including the toothed ring, and wank him hard, driving the spikes into him and making him howl as he comes, spurting onto the floor. When he has finished his body sags, I don't think he was expecting that. This will be a very hard time for him. So to distract him I strap one of his boots to his balls, holding it a few inches off the floor. Now he really has no rest. He can tear at his balls and just about get the boot on the floor, or he can lift it up and double the agony in his other leg, the spikes in his arm straps tearing into him as well. I tell him I'll be leaving him like that for a while. He begs and pleads with me, but I ignore him and return to the party. The first thing is to find a more modest toilet slave to clean me up, since the thick shit sludge is still oozing between my cheeks. It's a nice feeling but it feels good to get cleaned up too, feeling a tongue lapping at me until there is no trace left.
I got a bit engrossed in the proceedings now, and it was rather longer than I intended before I remembered about spot struggling on one leg down below. When I got back he was in a really bad way. He'd obviously been used several times since, and his belly was even more swollen. He was absolutely soaked in sweat. The leg that he could still stand on was trembling, and the other was doing a sort of dance as he alternated between tearing at his balls and relying on the spiked straps. Even his cock was soft, so his pain slut side had finally been defeated. I did think about beating him and leaving him for longer, but decided that this was too cruel even for spot. I ran my nails down his battered back and whispered a few sweet nothings. He started begging with me to help him, so I thought I would put him to bed. Knowing that the boots would be too much for the whole duration, we had a heavy wooden trestle from one of the outhouses. The top had been cut to a sharp ridge. I pushed this between his legs, taking the weight off his feet but putting his weight onto the tender flesh of his perineum. I also slipped some folded rag between his arms and the spikes. After all he needed to be able to sleep in comfort - relatively that is. I popped out his butt plug so he didn't explode during the night, kissed the tip of his cock and said "Night night, sleep well" before leaving him until the morning.
By then things were beginning to run down, everyone wanted to get some sleep ready for the real party on Saturday. I went off to bed with Anna, filthy and soaked. She made me take a shower and gave me a good spanking. I get wet just thinking about being over her knee, still damp from the shower and squeaky clean with my bum stinging and her hand whacking into me. Afterwards she said, "You still really stink, you shit whore. At least you can stink of me". And she let me take her shit, lots of it, directly from her anus into my mouth and belly. I just love that feeling, her anus puckering outwards, then the beginning of a turd peeping out, then slithering into my mouth and down my throat, filling me with her strong taste. I nearly came straight away but she made me suck her, through the shit that still lined my mouth, before she gave me what I wanted. After that I slept like a baby, cum oozing out of my cunt and anus, shit filling my belly and mouth, and Anna holding me in her arms.
I got up early to see to spot. I had a surprise when I went to use him - Bianca was in there. She is really sexy with her thin body and small tits, completely different from me. I gave her a big kiss and knelt in front of her while she finished up.
"Sorry", she said, "I think I'll be a while, my insides are kind of a mess this morning. I hope spot appreciates what I'm giving him, all nice and runny". I didn't mind at all, it was nice to have a few minutes to chat. She'd slept with instep and they'd fucked all night long, but he was up early to get on with his chores, cleaning and polishing everybody's shoes. When she had finished I licked her clean and then naturally went on to lick her to a lazy sort of orgasm. She was right, her insides were in pretty disgusting shape, even the little I got. I hope spot enjoyed having all of it. Once she'd gone back to bed, I gave spot my offering too, a nice big morning dump. I could hear him gagging and choking on it. But one toilet slave couldn't possibly deal with all of us who had stayed the night. A couple of people had got up early to get their slaves installed. One was in another of Irma's fancy toilets, and a third was bound to a simple slave toilet, just a bowl on the floor that the slave can empty with his mouth once it has been used. For the odd time where even that wasn't enough, we had a few chamber pots which the sissy maids were taking care of. They carefully separated solids from liquids so that we had a sort of "shit bank" to use later.
Once I'd finished, I popped downstairs. I'd cleaned myself up with paper, normally I prefer a slave but this time I had a use for it. He really stunk. I was very tempted to take care of the puddle of shit and piss between his legs myself but I wanted to leave it for him to clean up later - although I admit I did take just one little lick. I pulled the shit-covered trestle out from under him, putting the weight back onto his legs and the ballet shoes again. That certainly woke him up, and once again I could see that delightful trembling in his bottom and thighs as he tried to balance. I took out the rags which were protecting his arms from the spikes. "Yes spot, it's morning. Time to wake up and get some of that delicious shit into your filthy slut belly." I could hear him whimpering again, so I took up the thin, whippy cane and laid into him, his bottom, his thighs and his belly, until he was really screaming and sobbing. While I was doing this someone else used him. It turned me on to hear his screams suddenly turn to muffled yelps as he struggled first with the piss and then with her (or his, I had no idea) shit. I carried on beating him until he had swallowed everything and was sobbing normally again. Then I took the shit from the trestle and the floor and rubbed it into his body, saving the last for his cock and balls. After suffering all night he deserved a good shit wank, still with the teeth punishing him for his erection. I teased him for a long time but eventually let him come. Finally I put a couple of metal clips on his shitty nipples and left him to his toilet duties, teetering on his heels. It would be a long morning for spot.
When I returned to Anna, she had fetched breakfast from the kitchen, where the sissy maids along with a couple of other helpers were busy. For herself she had toast, coffee and so on. For me too, except that instead of orange juice I had a huge glass of her piss, and she had already prepared my toast with a thick coating of her shit. "Don't say I don't think of you", she said with a big smile and a sloppy kiss. I cleaned her up with my tongue and then enjoyed my special breakfast. I love the weird sensation, the mixture of shit with its intense taste and peculiar texture, and crunchy toast, all washed down with her piss. Once breakfast was over, we didn't stay in bed for long. There was lots to do. Most people would be arriving after lunch, since the tradition was to have all kinds of games and so on in the afternoon before the big party in the evening.
When the morning toilet rush was over I released spot from his toilet to let him get a bit of sleep. He's the biggest pain slut I know and can take an amazing amount of punishment but even so he's human. First I had him lick up all his own dried piss from the floor, then I left him in loose bondage on the floor with a hood over his head. I stuffed the dirty toilet paper from earlier into his mouth, to give him something to suck on, and I scraped up some of the remaining shit into the hood first. I didn't want him to think I'd gone soft or anything.
The morning flew by. I checked up on spot and as I expected, despite the discomfort of his position, he was asleep. I kicked at his belly and he groaned but didn't really wake up. I'm sure he was exhausted. Soon it was lunchtime, served al fresco in the garden. People were beginning to arrive and so there were plenty of greetings and catching up to do. There was a mixture of couples, people on their own and larger groups. Most slaves are nowhere near as intense as spot. At a casual glance you sometimes couldn't even tell who was who. Usually though the slaves were already dressed for the part, either in bondage gear, or rubber, or nearly naked. The two lesbians from last night were there - Spike (yes, really) in her biker gear and heavy boots, and her slave, cow, who is really into heavy 24x7 humiliation. I could write a whole article about Spike and cow. This morning cow had the same filthy, cheap trainers, a knee-length dirty greyish-white skirt, and a filthy tee-shirt that had once been white. Her skirt was soaked where she had pissed, and her tee-shirt had streaks of shit where - most likely - Spike had used it to wipe herself. She was wearing a parody of make-up, like a child or a drunk who has tried to put on lipstick and eye-shadow. Her filthy, poorly-cut hair was spiky and matted to her scalp. As I watched them, Spike saw a piece of food which had fallen to the ground. She slapped cow's face and pointed, and cow fell to her knees, crawled over to it, and ate it, then turned towards Spike on her knees. Spike spat some food at her, hitting her in the face, and nodded. Cow pushed her skirt up and started rubbing herself. Spike threw some food down and squelched her boot into it, then held the sole towards cow, who leaned towards the boot and licked the squashed mess out of the tread, still rubbing herself. When the boot was clean and Spike withdrew it, she leant forward and licked what was left from the ground, rubbing harder now. Spike yanked her up by ear and pushed her roughly over the table, pulling up her soiled skirt, and spanked her until her exposed bottom was bright red. Then she took a half cucumber and rammed it into cow's anus. "Keep rubbing, cow", she said, as she fucked her with the cucumber. It didn't take long before cow came, noisily, her anus visibly tightening around it. When she had finished Spike pulled it from her, now covered in a thin slimy film of shit, threw it down on the ground, and with a silent understanding cow ate it, shit and all.
Michael had arrived with his shit slut in one of her clear latex containment outfits. She'd obviously been wearing it for several days. It was swollen with a brownish mixture of piss and shit. She walked around proudly, dressed only in the suit and a pair of heels. Her head was exposed, thanks to a clever, leak proof and smell proof (well, almost) collar arrangement. Whenever anyone spoke to her she would look at Michael and wait for a nod from him before answering, like the good, obedient slave she is. She whispered something in his ear, he nodded, and she took us by surprise, cartwheeling over onto her latex-gloved hands. Michael grabbed her ankles and held her in place, as the semi-liquid inside her suit slithered down her legs and into her body, sliding past her cunt and bottom around her breasts, and forming a pool around her collar. A few dribbles escaped but it all worked surprisingly well. He tightened the built-in strap around her waist then let her down, trapping everything in the upper part of the suit as she stood upright again. He caressed her, rubbing it into her belly and her tits as she gave little moans of pleasure. The smell was unavoidable now, four days of accumulated, rotting piss and shit swilling around and oozing past the collar. Then she bent her knees and crouched slightly. The now-empty lower part of the suit bulged as a long stream of runny shit flowed around her bottom and started to slither down her thighs. She giggled and said, "Must be something I ate!". He turned on the radio-control vibrator that filled her pussy and she started squirming and gasping until she came, screaming in pleasure and simultaneously releasing a flood of piss that washed down her legs, taking the shit with it. Michael was merciless, leaving the vibrator running noisily as she knelt down, opened his flies and took his huge erection in her mouth. It's amazing to think that the first time she wore a suit like this, it was a punishment and she cried in humiliation as she was made to display her waste in public. Now - as you can tell - she loves it and would probably wear a containment suit all the time if Michael let her.
More and more guests arrived as lunchtime turned into afternoon. Instep was kept busy worshipping the feet of the new arrivals. Spot was with us now, other slaves were doing toilet duty and I wanted him to have some other punishments. His body was enclosed in a tight, heavy rubber straitjacket that held his arms folded behind him, his head covered in an attached hood. On his legs he wore rubber stockings, leaving his cock and balls and bottom exposed for punishment - his cock still in its anti-erection device - and in place of his ballet boots he had seven-inch heel ankle boots. He was pulling a pony-cart, the drawbar passing between his legs and attached to his balls so that any weight tugged at them. Unseen, a big butt plug filled him so that the effort of pulling the cart was transmitted directly to the sensitive tissue inside him. We took it in turns to use the cart, making him pull us around Irma's large garden and the rough tracks beyond, using the crop hard on his bottom and thighs to get him to move. He wore a bit in his mouth, like a proper pony. My friend Donna was having a great time with him. Donna is, well, large, quite tall and weighing about sixteen stone, and she took spot on a ride over very rough tracks and up and down slopes so he really had to struggle to drag her along. As the cart went over ruts, her weight would suddenly tear at his balls, making him stagger in the heals and cry out in pain, or she would deliberately bounce up and down. When she returned spot was sobbing pitifully behind his gag, so to distract him she ordered her slave to suck his cock. Suddenly his cries were a lot louder as the spikes stuck into his sensitive flesh, but she kept her slave sucking until spot came despite the pain, despite the agony he must be feeling in his tortured anus. As he came she bounced up and down in the cart, torturing his balls as well as his insides. Then it was Bianca's turn to take him for a ride.
The afternoon passed in a haze of slave games of various kinds, gossip between people who hadn't seen each other for a while, and eating and drinking. I think my favourite game was the slave tug'o'war. Women played it with their breasts in bondage, tied tight so their tits stuck out in front like torpedoes then tied together by a long rope between their breast ropes. As they pulled they tugged at each other's tits, stretching and twisting them. Mostly they wore heels, making it harder for them to balance. They had a real interest in tugging hard enough to win, because each master (or mistress) knows exactly what punishment to threaten if their slave loses. After a couple of rounds, Spike entered cow, against another woman. Cow's tits tiny, it took a lot of work to tie a rope securely, but after Spike had finished they looked as though they were going to burst. The other girl was young, about nineteen, a tall blonde who I didn't know with big tits, a little bit fleshy in a sexy way with a nicely curved tummy. She was wearing very tarty clear plastic mules with high heels, which would make it difficult for her, a short skirt and a tiny tee shirt that showed the fold at the bottom of her tits. In her filthy trainers, cow would have an easy win, and it isn't like Spike to make anything easy for her. Sure enough, Spike grabbed one ankle and tied it up and around her waist so that all she could do was hop on the other foot. Cow looked at her and for a minute it looked as though she was going to complain, until Spike slapped her face a couple of times. Then a rope was tied between them, about four yards long. Under the middle of it was a male slave on his back. The loser would end up falling over him as they were dragged towards the victor. Irma blew a whistle, and the struggle started. At first cow did very badly. She was struggling to balance on one leg, and every time her opponent tugged she would be dragged forward and then wouldn't be able to get back. Despite the mules, her opponent was pulling well. But you could see that she wasn't really into pain, she was really playing at being a slave (like most slaves, nothing wrong with that), and every time she pulled she winced with the pain in her tits. Whereas cow was no stranger to pain, and in a few minutes she had understood how to tug with just her body, making the other girl cry out in pain and lose her balance a little. A few of those and she stumbled, nearly losing a shoe, and slowly cow started to drag her towards to the prone male. She started to cry, a mix of pain and anger, and for a little while she fought back and made up some of the ground she had lost. But then she really lost her balance, and kept reaching for her hurting tits, hindering her balance even more. Cow just kept up a steady pressure, hopping backwards every time her opponent relaxed until eventually the gap to the male slave had disappeared, and with one final tug the opponent stumbled over the slave, yanking at her tits as she fell and screaming with the unexpected pain. Cow then collapsed as well, her one good leg no longer able to support her.
This was a bit of a dilemma for Spike. If cow had lost, it would have been easy, it would have been an extra humiliation followed by some further punishment. She had a quiet word with the opponent's master, they both nodded and he told his slave to strip naked. Cow also stripped, and he told his slave should put on her filthy, ugly clothes. She shook her head but then evidently thought better of it. She picked up the grubby, damp skirt and pulled it up to her waist. She was bigger than cow and she couldn't quite close the zip, so it yawned open at the back. Then, disgustedly, she picked up the filthy tee-shirt, covered in streaks of dried shit. She went to pull it over her head but then couldn't bring herself to. He grabbed it, tugged it down over her, rubbing it in her face as she did so. She started crying. He bent her over and spanked her bottom, probably about all the punishment she was expecting - she was obviously a novice. Then he pushed her to the ground and cow, who had quickly dressed in her clothes including the tarty shoes, a size or two too big, tottered over, squatted a little, and pissed, a long gushing piss first on the loser's face, then over the tee-shirt that had been hers until a moment earlier. The slave just lay there crying, her face and shirt soaked. For good measure her master unzipped himself and pissed into her mouth, turning her whine into a sort of gasping sob as she tried to avoid swallowing his piss. When he had finished he pulled her up and kissed her piss-covered lips, putting his hand roughly under her skirt and rubbing at her cunt. She tried to push him away, but she obviously had the makings of a good submissive because soon she accepted and started responding to his touch. Then he moved away from her, provoking a shocked yelp, until cow knelt between her legs and quickly brought her to orgasm with her tongue. For the rest of the afternoon cow tottered round in the plastic shoes, micro miniskirt and truncated tee-shirt, while her opponent was humiliated in the filthy and now wet cow clothes.
For the male slaves the game is similar, but they are back to back and tied together by their balls. I entered spot. It was a very uneven match, spot in his extreme heels and with his balls already punished and painful, against a barefoot slave. He was smaller than spot, and spot did struggle valiantly, but it was too much for him and he soon lost. I changed his shoes back to the ballet boots and attached a bag full of stones to his balls by a rope that kept him hunched down. Then we tied him roughly over a table and for an hour or so let him be gang-fucked by anyone who wanted. He's a pain slut, as you can see, but being fucked is a true punishment and humiliation for him, much worse even than being a toilet slave and eating anonymous shit. At first he cried out, despite his gag, so I went off and made him a shit gag from the pile of spare shit from the morning, a huge one, and rammed it into his mouth. After that he didn't make much noise even when a huge black guy with a cock like a horse rammed into him and stayed there for ages, tearing into his punished sphincter.
Soon it was time to put spot back in his toilet. After what had happened to him in the afternoon it was probably quite a relief. I needed a shit too, but I decided to try one of the others. I chose the one that has the slave's face visible at the bottom of the pan. He hadn't been used much and his face was clearly visible, although streaked with shit and piss and bits of turd. I let loose, a great mound of soft stuff that plopped down onto his face in one great stinking lump. I heard him snorting and sniffling as he tried to swallow enough of it to be able to breathe. Soon his mouth was visible, and now I let loose a great gushing stream of piss, which he had to swallow quickly as it mingled with the shit. After that I felt a lot better. Just as I was leaving, cow's opponent came in. The afternoon had clearly been a shock for her. I asked her how she was feeling.
"Alright. Well, you know, no, not really alright at all. I just don't know. I feel filthy, really dirty, it's horrible, this stinking shirt and being soaked in piss, it's disgusting. But..." - her voice dropped to a whisper - "...I feel really turned on. I just don't know". She burst into tears and I put my arms around her and consoled her. When she had quietened down a bit I asked her if she had ever used a toilet slave before. She shook her head. "I don't know if I can". She looked into the toilet and saw his face, still covered in shit which he couldn't reach with his tongue. She retched, a shower of vomit straight into the toilet, straight into his face, then staggered and sat down. "It's horrible," she said, "it's foul, it's really disgusting. Yuck, yuck, yuck". But then her body won and with only a little fart as warning, she dumped onto his face too. She started crying. My bum was still shitty, so I grabbed her tee-shirt and wiped myself with it, adding a great mass of shit to the stains. She really started sobbing so I knelt in front of her and consoled her again, kissing her and tasting the puke which still lingered in her mouth.
"You don't have to stay, you know", I said. "I'm sure your master would take you away if you asked and you could just forget the whole thing. Is that what you want?" She started to nod, then shook her head. "I don't know, this is so disgusting, it's just not real. But, well, I'm not sure I just want to walk out of it. Not yet anyway." I was sympathetic, and soon she had calmed down, so I put my head between her legs, savouring the stink of her shit mixed with mine that came from below, and started sucking her. "Oh please, don't, that's not what I want". But soon it became obvious that it was what she wanted. When she had come, I stood her up, bent her over, and cleaned her up with my tongue, then led her back outside, my shit still glistening on her clothes, the taste of her shit and her cunt filling my mouth. She had been very brave. I was pretty sure she hadn't done anything like this before and wasn't prepared for it at all. She'd done a bit of mild S&M with her boyfriend, maybe a bit of pee-play. We chatted a little as we walked back to the garden, she was still very shocked and upset but she did tell me her name, Bennie. I told her - and I meant it - that I hoped to see her again later.
Early in the evening, we started the floor-show that we'd been planning for days. We did this in the old barn. It normally doesn't get used much, but spot had cleaned it up quite well while he was still (relatively) free. I changed for the evening, into a long and very full dress, made of very lightweight red latex that swishes wonderfully around my legs as I walk. It has a very low neck which just about covers my tits, when I want it to. With that I wore a pair of sexy peep-toe black high-heels that, amazingly, I found in a second-hand shop. I sat next to Bianca, who was wearing a very mini-dress that just about covered her crotch, not that it mattered since it was made of clear latex anyway, and her signature pair of tatty white high heels that once drove instep into a frenzy - and still did, as he licked and sucked at them while she sat there. Anna was on my other side, in an outrageous leather dominatrix outfit. I noticed Bennie not far away, now naked apart from her tarty shoes and a few chains and cuffs, sitting next to her master. He was quite young too, and very good looking, in an evening suit made of rubber. Even cow had been allowed to dress for the occasion I noticed, in a long white cotton dress - well, it had been white once, it looked as though it had never been washed and had been worn plenty - with cut-outs for her tits, cunt and bottom.
I'm not going to write blow-by-blow about everything we saw, although it was all pretty good. There were the usual whippings and pain shows, including a spectacular tit piercing and skewering. Michael's shit slut's undressing was wonderful. She stood in a large, shallow tub as Michael forced open the glued rubber flap along the zip at the back and undid the seal around the neck. Then he unzipped her and pulled the suit down, revealing her naked tits. The stench was really pretty powerful. A few people even chose to leave. He caressed her body and her tits, rubbing the stinking slime into and then licking at her flesh, savouring the taste. When the suit was pulled down far enough to reveal her cunt he pulled the vibrator from her and opened up his fly, pushing his rock-hard cock into her and fucking her until both of them were screaming with pleasure. By now the tub was starting to fill up with liquid escaping from the suit. He pushed her down into the stinking brown liquid so he could pull the suit off her completely, rolled her over and over in it, then lay down on top of her and fucked her again. Then they sat in the tub, dripping with the filth, kissing and holding each other. Then they disappeared for some private messy fun, leaving the tub behind them in a corner of the stage. We had quite a few ideas for things to do with it.
When the show finished, the party proper could begin. Most of the time I spent partying, chatting with people and performing random acts of messiness. I sucked lots of cocks and cunts, drunk lots of piss - I love it when a guy pisses straight into my open mouth, swallowing what I can and feeling the rest trickle down between my tits. I cleaned up after toilet slaves, pressing my tongue into shit-rimmed anuses of all kinds. I love the feeling, whether it's clean or dirty (but I never know what to call them - anus sounds so medical, but none of the other words like "asshole" really work for me either - we need a nice basic old English word like cock or cunt or shit, but we don't have one). It's best to get a really dirty one, and I had plenty of those tonight, fresh from using a slave who can't do the clean-up. I run my tongue through the bum-slit, licking off the shit that gravity didn't quite reach, the little electrifying swallow as the bitterness hits my throat. Then licking up the last traces, pushing my tongue into the opening itself, feeling the little wrinkles and bumps. Being licked there is incredibly sexy - sadly there are lots of people who don't realise that or don't want to, but they generally don't go to Irma's parties! So cleaning someone up is usually the prelude to something else, taking a guy's balls into my mouth then working round to his cock which is probably rock-hard by now, unless he's completely exhausted. I'm sad to say that many of them were as we got to the end of the evening. Men are so feeble! If it's a woman then it's so easy to accidentally slip around her crack to her pussy and her clit - although I'm always very careful to make sure my tongue and mouth are clean before I do, lots of women get an infection so easily (I don't, lucky me).
I found the time to check up on all of the toilet slaves. The truth is that Irma's fancy toilets where you can't see the slave are really mainly for the benefit of the slave, although the idea of using an unseen slave is a big turn-on for me. And they're great for people who don't mind the idea of a toilet slave, but aren't really up for the reality of some shit-covered face leering at them from the bottom of the toilet. But for myself, as a user, I really like the simplest kind of all, just a bowl or basin of some kind with the slave attached so that he (or she, less often) can reach the product to eat and drink it but can move their head out of the way too. And this kind of slave can do a clean-up too, depending on exactly how their bondage is arranged. We had several of these set up tonight, and they'd certainly be needed in the morning. The first one I visited was a guy in a very tight hogtie, his wrists and ankles all bound together behind his back. He was wearing a rubber hood with just one opening, for the mouth. He was attached by a link fixing his leather collar to a ring at the edge of the toilet. Unfortunately I couldn't possibly try all of them, so I decided just to watch someone else with this one. Soon a woman came in, I knew her only vaguely. She pulled up her short skirt, squatted over the bowl, and let out a flood of piss. It splashed around, on her skin and over the slave. When she had done she wiped herself on her fingers, licked them clean, pulled her skirt down, then turned and smiled at me as she walked off without so much as a look at the slave. He did his duty, put his mouth to the hot piss and slurped it up, licking the bowl and its surround clean when there was none left. He didn't even know I was there. The hogtie is a good restraint for a slave, making it almost impossible to move. The disadvantage though is that everything is pretty inaccessible. It's hard to beat them or even to reach their cock and balls, especially if their knees are strapped together as his were. So there wasn't much to be done with him.
The second one I visited was also in a hogtie, but this time encased in a heavy rubber bag. The only visible thing was his mouth. Inside the bag he was unable to move. His own piss and shit was contained in there, too. One problem with toilet slaves is what to do about their own wastes. Just letting it go anywhere gets very messy, it puts most "casual" users off. Some kind of rubber enclosure around their bottom works well but limits the possibilities for playing with them. Oh well, life is full of little compromises. In his rubber pupa outfit there was no question of playing with this one. I gave him a little bit of the piss I was saving up. He did his job well. The hood had only a tiny opening, so he couldn't use his lips and was reduced to lapping it up like a cat, a tiny drop at a time.
After I checked up on snot, the last one was a real surprise. It was a woman. Women who do the full-service toilet thing are pretty rare. She was in my favourite position, too, her legs drawn up under her and spread wide by an ankle spreader, her arms pulled through under her body, and her wrists fastened to the spreader. The beauty of this is that her bottom was sticking up into the air, just begging to be caned or spanked or fucked or licked. And what a bottom she had. She was covered in marks from beatings. She was obviously beaten very, very regularly, because there was everything from very recent marks, still deep red and showing the shape of the cane, through marks that had turned blue and black, to fading traces of yellow. Her bum and thighs were covered. And then her cunt was full of piercings, a dozen or more. I looked closely. Each of her outer labia had four or five rings, and her inner labia another three or four each. There were a couple in her perineum, between her pussy and her anus. There was one in her clit hood, and one in her clit itself. From her clit ring ran a fine, taut chain to the spreader bar between her ankles. Looking carefully, I could see that any attempt to straighten her legs or her arms would tug at her clit. Experimentally I pulled at the chain, and was rewarded with a squeal. I pulled harder, and got a yelp and a little sob. Interesting. I could see that she had something big inside her, which was held in by a chain threaded between some of the rings, and her inner lips were stretched by a couple of big weights. I lifted the weights and let them drop, getting another very satisfying yelp as her flesh stretched. Inner labia are amazingly flexible and can be stretched a very long way, as indeed hers were. Her anus was gaping open an inch or more, and looked as though something big had been in there recently. I pushed three fingers into her with no difficulty at all.
As I licked my fingers (yum) I looked at her tits. They were a nice size, not huge but nicely pendulous. That's one of the good things about this position, it really puts its victim's tits on show. They were pierced, and each had a heavy weight hanging from it. I had my nipples pierced a while back, I love the feeling and I like it when someone tugs and twists at my rings, but I've never worn weights like this. I wondered what it would feel like. The most surprising thing about her tits though was that they were absolutely black and blue, just like her bottom. She must have had them beaten hard and often for them to be like this. That must be truly painful, I was amazed that anyone could stand it. (But obviously she could. Irma is pretty broad-minded but if she had the slightest suspicion that someone was being enslaved or punished against their will, she wouldn't have them at her party). I ran my hands over her bruised tits, lifted the weights and let them drop. Again I was rewarded by a nice yelp.
Now I knew who would get my favours. I moved round by her head and squatted. She was wearing a rubber hood with an open mouth, like the others, but I saw that there were small holes for her eyes that would give her limited vision. So she could see me. I carefully squeezed a nice big turd into the bowl, slowly so that could appreciate it, then let go some sloppy stuff, and pissed on the resulting mess. I waited a few seconds for her to appreciate what I'd done for her, then plonked myself down into it, squishing around with my bottom and getting myself nice and covered. This is one of the nicest feelings I know, feeling it all ooze around into my cracks and crevices while it's still warm. I lifted myself out of it then bent forward, pushing my bottom back to her so she could lick me clean. Sure enough, I felt her tongue go to work on me, first taking the thicker stuff from my crack and around my anus, then licking the sloppy mess all around. I felt her tongue press deep into my willing anus, then lap around my cunt, opening my lips up. That felt good! Toilet slaves aren't really supposed to do the whole orgasm thing, though. It was tempting to let her carry on but I moved away, giving myself a little rub partly for my pleasure and partly to show her that she wasn't needed (although that wasn't really what I thought!). She bent down into the bowl and licked up what was left of my produce. While she was doing this I went back to her bottom. I took one of the canes that were conveniently available, and gave her a few good hard strokes on her already punished bottom. She gave some gurgly sort of cries since she was still licking the bowl clean. Then I was really tempted by that gaping anus. I pushed my tongue in deep, slobbering lots of saliva in there for lubrication. I scrunched my fingers to a point and pushed them in. She opened up nicely, although she gave another yelp as the thickest part went in, and now I had my whole hand inside her. It's rarely this easy to fist someone, and she'd obviously had plenty of practice. Once inside I opened my fingers up and kind of massaged the delicate flesh inside. She didn't yelp any more, I could feel her contracting around me and see her starting to thrust her hips. I used my other hand in a sort of combined tease and torture, stroking her clit with one moistened finger while I tugged at her clit ring. I teased her for as long as I could but soon the inevitable happened, she screamed and sobbed and cried and twisted against her bonds and crushed around my wrist for a very long time. When she had completely stopped I carefully withdrew my hand and licked it clean (yum again). By now I was completely turned on and I wasn't just going to walk off. I went back round by her head, crouched down again, and let her finish me off with her tongue. She was good. I don't think I made as much noise as she had, but I did my best.
After that, the other slaves were a bit of an anti-climax, or I suppose literally a post-climax. There were a couple where the slave is hidden, either face-up or face-down in the toilet part. The face-down one at least reveals some of the slave. I sat on it, not that I had much left to give but I did manage a sprinkling of piss. With my feet spread apart, I had his lower body in front of me, his belly and cock protruding from under the platform that supported the toilet itself. I massaged his cock with my shoe, getting him nice and hard, then pushed my heel into his cock and into balls, getting a nice squeal from under my bottom. What I didn't know was that I would soon be getting a lot more familiar with this toilet.
I visited spot a couple of times. Since his arms were still bound in the heavy rubber strait jacket, we couldn't support him as we had yesterday, with his arms up close to the ceiling. But we couldn't just leave him with only his ballet boots for support either, since a slip could injure him or even break his neck. None of us want to do a life sentence just so a slave can have a slightly more authentic experience. So we'd arranged a thick leather strap that passed from the low ceiling, through his crotch, and back up to the ceiling. Things were arranged so that if he actually put his weight onto the strap then his balls were squeezed between two hard leather pads, so he had a strong incentive to perch on his ballet boots instead. I watched him trying to deal with this. His legs must have been in agony, I could see all of his muscles trembling in little spasms. Eventually he'd relax, the strap tightened, and as his balls took the strain his whole body shook. During this people were pissing and shitting into him and he had to swallow quickly, which I suppose was at least a distraction. But I thought he needed more, so one more time I lifted up one of his boots, this time attaching it high up behind him, all his weight supported by the other leg. He groaned and made a funny screaming sort of gurgle, and cried out "Please, no, please" which quickly turned to a long sob. To take his mind off things I gave him a good beating, then while he was still squirming from that and still trying to balance I sucked his cock until it was nice and hard, despite the sharp spikes tormenting him. I carried on until I felt him tense and then felt his cum in my mouth. Now he was in really terrible distress. He sobbed for a while, until someone gave him something else to do with his mouth. It sounded like a fairly serious offering and it took him a while to deal with it. When he had finished I mercifully released his foot so he take his weight on both legs again, and left him to his further pleasure.
I went back to the party and had lots more fun, messy and otherwise. These people are all really good friends, the ones I know, and the ones I don't soon will be. So just talking with them is really good, and then it's hard to resist a little rub or kiss or lick. When they were covered up at all, they were mostly wearing rubber or leather, for the obvious practical reason. Rubber looks wonderful on anyone, whether they're fat or thin, curvy or bony, it doesn't matter, it makes the best of everyone. Skin is nice too, but I love running my tongue over rubber-clad flesh, tasting the slightly burnt flavour of the rubber and its slippery-sticky feel, making it ripple over the sensitive skin underneath. I love licking a cock or a pussy through thin rubber, feeling the body underneath respond to me. It can take a while to make someone come through rubber, especially if you're not in a hurry. Normally I keep myself available and wide open but occasionally when I've worn a thin rubber catsuit or pants I've experienced this myself. It feels great, if a little frustrating. Spike's cow was an exception, she was still wearing the dirty white cotton dress with holes for tits and cunt. It was really filthy now, with shit and piss covering it. I wondered if Spike would let cow wash it or whether she'd keep on wearing it like this for months, as she normally does - part of her humiliation is that she's never allowed anything clean or new. Bianca was ravishing in her short, clear latex dress and her high heels. Instep followed her around lapping at her shoes and feet. Anna was just Anna, my lovely Anna, in her leather dominatrix outfit.
By two or so things were beginning to thin out a bit. There are some hardened party animals who go on until dawn, but a lot of people are getting tired or just want a bit of intimacy. There were getting on for a hundred people there, so the sleeping arrangements were pretty basic except for some special guests like Anna and me, who had proper guest bedrooms. But even so couples would disappear into a sleeping back in a corner of one of Irma's many outhouses for a quiet fuck and some sleep. I went down to check on spot one last time and get him ready for his overnight session. And that was when I had the surprise of my life, and became an anonymous toilet slave for the first time ever. But that's for another time.