Toilet Slave

Over the next few days, his life improved marginally. Instead of being stuffed back in the tiny cell at night, he was transfered to another of the dungeon's many contraptions. This one was a wooden box that resembled a coffin. The interior was bare and hard, but at least it allowed him to stretch out fully while he awaited his Master's next command and tried to get a little sleep.

Master Nate would put him into the box on his back, tying his bound hands at his side inside using several loop hooks. The lid of the box had a series of panels that could be used. Most often there was one that surrounded his head, locking it in place staring up at the ceiling. Two other pieces fit neatly around his cock, allowing it to project straight up into the air out of the box.

There was also a hole in the bottom of the box right where his asshole was - this allowed for a variety of options. The box could be swiveled up to position his ass for his Master's cock or hands or a series of gradually enlarging butt plugs; It could also be fixed to the floor with a long rod attached to a rather large dildo that, once inserted up into his ass, could be locked down to the cement.

Of course, the catheter was inserted, and plugged into Jeff's mouth, and the urine became progressively more biter throughout the night.

Each morning, his Master would take Jeff to a corner of the dungeon and wash him down with cold water and a harsh brush, and then give it an enema.

He had decided to let the slave's hair grow out again, except for the eyebrows. These he shaved off every morning. Jeff imagined he looked perpetually surprised, and perhaps that was his Master's intention.

Jeff was learning to accept his conditions, the constant fullness of his ass and mouth, the forced immobility that at first had driven him rather crazy, and the idea that he was now nothing more than a plaything for his Master.

On the second day, in addition to a slightly larger butt plug, his master attached a small weight to his balls. "This will take some time," he explained, "but eventually we'll get that ball sack stretched all the way to the floor. I've seen it done in other slaves."

Jeff wondered, when all this was done, if it was ever done, if he would even recognize himself in the mirror.

The next day brought an unpleasant surprise. After he was strapped down in the sling with the butt plug up his ass, and the extra weight added to his balls, his Master said "Today we'll start your piercings. Ever had anything pierced, slave boy?"

Jeff slave shook his head, shivering with fear. He didn't like pain, and he could imagine what this Master might want to pierce.

"We'll start with something easy. Your ears. I want to put in a few gromitts so I can use them to tie you to things when you're in the way. Or maybe stretch your ears out a bit. I like big ears on a slave. This will hurt."

Without warning, something clamped down on his left earlobe once, twice, three times. "Don't worry, this is properly sterilized."

Jeff hardly heard him through the pain.

Then once, twice, three times on the other ear. "We'll start with leather studs," his Master said. "Then I'll snap one of these on each ear when you're ready." He held up a small metallic device - three holes in a row. "Less likely to tear your ears off this way."

Jeff whimpered as the six studs were inserted into his ears.

"Look how handsome you are? Your ratings just jumped on our web cam site. Almost five thousand people are watching you now."

Jeff squirmed in shame.

"One of them even says he knows you. Guy named Ron? Didn't seem at all upset to see you in such dire straits."

Oh God Oh God Oh God... Jeff's face burned with shame.

His Master gently wiped off the bit of blood left from the piercings with a damp cloth, and then left him alone again, and he sat there, watched by thousands of uncaring strangers, sucking on his own waste.

Part of each day was also spent on a treadmill, chained to it for three hours. It would start with a slow walk, gradually increasing to a run. The first time, he almost fell over, but somehow managed to shuffle along for the whole time. The next time was, marginally, easier.

His Master called him to take his waste on a regular basis, especially his piss. And every other day, he was made to drink lots of water to flush out his system. On those days, the piss would be drained out into one of the drainage holes in the floor.

Less regular, but more traumatic, were the double buzzes. he would feel them and a wave of nausea would almost overcome him. Nevertheless, if he was allowed some freedom of movement, such as when he was chained to the floor but could crawl a short distance, he would make his way quickly to the underside of the throne.

His heart would beat a little faster as he thought of the thousands of people who might be watching him at "feeding time", as his Master called it. How many of them secretly yearned to be in his place? To be faced with their own dark shame and addiction like this every day?

Once Master Nate sat on the throne, he became eager for the process to begin, his lust overrunning his disgust. He would push his face up as far as the throne would allow, up into his Master's anus, almost sucking the shit out of him. From the sounds his Master made, he knew this was pleasing to Him.

The anal stimulation would begin inside of him, and his cock would throb and throb and throb, and finally he would release. Sometimes not much came out, as he was being milked daily. But the sensations as he came all over the floor were more intense than anything he could remember.

And then the wall of shame. And the shit would keep coming, and he had to eat his way through it.

On the third day, during his sling-time, as he had started thinking of it, his Master gleefully announced that the time had come for the next piercing. "Your ears look good - they are already starting to heal from yesterday." He caressed the slave's side like a dog. "Today, in addition to a larger butt plug and some more weight on those balls of yours, we're going to pierce those nipples. I can put a couple rings there to good use."

This time, mercifully, a bit of ice was applied to each site before the needle went cleanly through. Still, the pain was immense. Jeff writhed in his bonds after the first one, and his Master let him calm down for a moment before attempting the next one.

He felt the second needle pierce his tender flesh, and closed his eyes in pain.

Nothing done to him was irreversible, not yet. He clung to that thought.

His fourth day brought training on the care of a Master. He learned new code combinations for other things besides waste removal. One sequence indicated he was to fall to the ground and clean his Master's feet, which were often very dirty from walking around the house and dungeon barefoot.

He worked his tongue in and around the toes, until each one was clean, and then turned his attention to his Master's black soles.

This was actually easier than swallowing His shit. The taste was more natural, earthy. When he was done, his Master's soles were pink.

Another sequence ordered him to worship his Master's cock and ass. He learned quickly not to let his teeth scrape the tender skin, and he brought his Master to cum more than once, swallowing all the cum without losing any. It had a curious taste... kind of bland, sticky like phleghm. He'd tried his own once, of course, but never another man's.

A third new sequence ordered him to present his ass to his Master. What would happen next varied. Sometimes it was a few strikes with a whip. Sometimes it was simply an inspection. And sometimes he'd be fucked for what seemed like hours. He moved past the pain to a sort of numbness.

Never did he see Master Rick, and he had started to wonder whether this other Master even existed. Yes, there had been someone there the first night to remove the suitcase, but it could have been a lackey, or another slave.

As he was locked down for the night, his Master grinned down at him from above. "Tomorrow's a big day for you. You've learned your primary duties well, and tomorrow night, we're having a party for a few friends. You're going to provide your service for all of them."

This time the box was closed completely over his head, enclosing him in darkness, and he was left to wonder exactly which service that would be.