Fecal Container 12

Story inspired by Mbohm2 and his many fecal containers

I stared at my phone. It was a 12 dollar Uber to his address. I’ve gone years wanting to serve a real man. To submit and do things like suck his cock whenever, clean his house and maybe get fucked. I’ve never done anything sexual. I’ve never known a mans touch. I’ve only fantasized about it, jerking off to countless erotic stories about a dominant man taking control of a submissive boy in the bedroom. I’m not ashamed of being gay. I grew up orphaned, shuffled from foster home to foster home, so I never really had anyone to come out too. Time after time I’ve flaked on men after trying to build up the confidence to meet. Im not sure what Im afraid of exactly but my nerves are always racked to the point where I just decide to jerk off and ignore any further texts from the person.

But today was different, I woke up to a message from “ContainerMaster” on Recon. I didn’t think to question the name but instead went straight to his message. “Hey. Im looking for a slave to come submit and serve me starting this weekend. Read your profile and a No Limits slave is definitely what I’m looking for. “

How about it?”

 I looked through his pics and instantly got hard. You would never guess he was kinky. His pictures might have been better suited for a Tinder profile. Yet here he was on this app all about being dominant. He wore expensive button down shirts, his pants looked custom tailored to his insanely muscular thighs and perfectly accentuating his bubble butt. In his pictures he’s drinking champagne on expensive boats, shaking hands with important government officials and visiting rather exotic location. He was tall, with a dark as night beard and large muscle arms. He’s exactly the man I picture.

Once again, Im confronted with my anxiety. He’s so hot and I can’t believe he wants me. What’s going to be my excuse this time? I pace the length of my studio apartment. I reply with my answer and all I get back is “good” and a location pin. Hours pass before he messages again. “10AM. Saturday. Do not flake on me. My time is too valuable.” This felt confrontational. Did he know about my rep sheet of infamously flaking? 

The Uber was called and it was too late to cancel without paying a fee. He told me not to bring anything so I simply hopped in the car and made my way out of town to the suburbs.

My heart is beating as I slam the door close and stare at the rather intimidating grand house. For a single man, he must be rather rich to afford something of this size. I turned around and looked back at the Uber becoming increasingly distant, leaving me with no more excuses. I was finally going to make my fantasy a reality and I could start to sense a change in my life. 

Before I could reach the door. He opened it wide and ushered me in. He was everything I could want from a man. “

Hi-” I go to say before I’m interrupted. 

“Sit”. He points to a spot on the floor. I’m ignored. 

Did he even look at me? I watch as he continues about his house. He really was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He had a huge buffed out chest, wearing a pastel button down with the sleeves rolled up to tightly wrap around his massive forearms. All of this paled in comparison to his eyes. None of his professional photos could capture how captivating they were. Almost sky blue and conveyed a sense of kindness when you looked at him.

He exited the room for a long while before returning with some sort of tool kit. He drops down to my level. He’s running his hands around the curve of my body. This is the first real touch I have ever felt from a man. Its sending shivers and I think he notices. 

He reaches into his tool box and pulls out a sharp pair of scissors. I have no time to worry before he starts cutting into my polo shirt. He cuts down the length of my chest. I make noises attempting to protest. 

“Quiet” he simply says. 

I let him continue as he finishes and does the same to my pants. 

I’m rock hard but he doesn’t seem to notice, or care.  Actually, I don't think he really notices me at all. I get the feeling that this is just business to him. 

Im left naked as he reached into his handy box again. He pulls out what seems to be a heavy pair of medal restraints and a collar. He places the collar around my neck before walking behind me. He bends my hands behind me and locks them in place. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. Im shaking. This is what i’ve been missing all these years? I can barely control myself.  He returns to his box, pulling out a gag of some sorts. He slaps my cheek gently. I take the hint and open my mouth wide. He inserts the gag which then covers my mouth and pulled back tightly behind my head. He leaves his large head on the top of my head for a second and 

I’m in ecstasy. I long for his touch so badly. Alas, he not acknowledging my existence. 

I'm confused by his next actions. I have a clear view of the stairs to his basement. He slowly starts laying large slabs of wood down. Building a handicap ramp, or something. I sit on my knees waiting with my arms around my back. 

“Pffew” he says, finally finished. 

He makes haste once again, returning minutes later with a large, loud cart of some sort. He parks it right in front of me.

“Okay!” He says loudly. 

Finally looking me in the eye.

 “Im sorry about all that. I was trying to get all the not so fun stuff out of the way so I can really enjoy myself.”

“ So this is how it’s going to be” He continues. 

Im going to be loading you into this thing right here. He briefly points to the obvious large device. Then we'll be headed down stairs. He takes a deep breath in and gives a big smile. 

“So? Are you excited to start your new life?” 

I'm confused and left uncomfortable by his smile. “

“It's not everyday that someone like you gets to start over with a higher purpose. Now….I feel obligated to tell you more about what you’ve signed up for. Not that it matters but I believe in being up front. Im a container Master. I convert guys like you into beings that I can store my waste in. I know my profile doesn't go on about it but it’s mainly for my own security. I don’t imagine you have a nice job (no offense)...but I have a VERY important job and this side of myself must be protected. You got that?”

 I'm still confused. Is this part of his fantasy? It can not surely be real. 

He continues. 

“The side of me that owns and takes care of containers is sadly something that must remain a secret. Not to say it, not important. It's a crucial part of the making of the man I am today. 

Anyways, let’s get you into your new home. 

    I'm in shock. I don't think to move my body or try to escape. I also can't help but to feel pleasure as he picks me up and lies me gently on the cart. In no time we’ve descended his homemade ramp. The basement is well furnished. Plush white carpet. A big screen tv and a pool table. There's a bar in the corner with a bright neon sign.

 “Dont mind all this” he says. Not even looking at me. 

He lifts up a hidden detachable section of the carpet. Its a hatch and he opens it wide. It has a similar ramp to the previous one but there's only darkness at the bottom

    He pushes me to the bottom of the ramp. I’m confused by what I see. It’s a living room sort of set up. Couch, TV and then a sort of throne thing. The confusing part is how it’s all on top of a 3 feet high glass platform, brightly lit from the inside

          “Yeah, figured this time I should remodel it” he boosts. Hope you like! 

He wheels the cart up to the scene. There’s a hatch in the bottom of the crawl space. He stops just short of it.

    “Okay, lets get rid of this thing” he says unfastening my gag. Nows the time to ask any question you’ll ever have, so make good use. 

“Please!” I begged. 

He gives me a confused look. 

“Whats wrong?” He says genuinely concerned. 

“What are you doing?” I struggle for any words to express everything on my mind.

 I can’t figure out what to say.“This isn’t what I want” I plea. 

“What do you mean? Your profile said “no limits slave for owner” didn’t it? “

“Yeah, bu-” 

He interrupts “Then Im confused. Why is this a problem? You’re a no limits object and I need a new fecal container. 

I think back to when I wrote that. I slowly try to explain that's not what I meant. 

“Hmm, I see” he said with a shift in his mood. 

He seems deep in his mind. I grow worried about how he may respond. I don’t have any control.

“So you were going to waste my time? Was that your plan? You know how valuable my time is? No offense... but it’s more than yours will or would ever be.”

“Please let me go” I’m out of words.

He leans back. 

“Well this isn’t how I planned this going…”

I cant believe that he’s genuinely surprised that someone wouldn’t want this. He seems to be in thought.

“Im sorry. Sounds like this has been a miscommunication then. Unfortunately though, I can’t let you go. All of my containers learn pretty quickly that they exist for me, and they feel honored to serve that function...or at least that’s how it always seems.”

I plea again. “I wont tell anyone this happened”

“Sigh...you’re not listening. I am important! I know its hard for you to understand this but I’m trying to put it in terms you’ll understand.”

He pauses.

“Do you have a family?”

I pause longer than I should’ve.

“So you dont and I assume you don’t have a boyfriend. What did you do?”

I try to ignore his past tense. “I work at Subway”

He chuggles. 

“Sorry I know I should laugh. I just think it’s funny that you dont want to be my container and you work at Subway. Listen...I have everything you don’t have and you will never have. I have a family, I potentially have a boyfriend (we’re seeing where things go) and my work/social life means the world to me.”

He pauses and looks deep into my eyes.

“Do I not deserve to have a place to store my waste?”

I can’t ignore his eyes. He’s the first man to ever really look at me.

“There you go.” He smiles.

He grabs and holds my hand. Im catching on fast and know this touch is part of his manipulation. I hang my head. I am defeated.

“I thought I’d be cleaning your house or some other sort of service” 

He’s enthusiastic. “But this is so much more important! You’ll be giving me the power I need to go out in the world. To live my life. I can go about my day knowing my waste is being stored safely, along with anything else, inside you.” 

He rubs my stomach. Waves of pleasure just from the touch of his massive, hairy hands.

“I thought i’d be giving you blowjobs or you’d be fucking me; something like that”

He rubs the back of his neck. “hmmm this is awkward...but you’re not really my type, if im being brutally honest. I prefer in shape, more tone and built guys”

He looks me over to add some weight to his harsh statements. “You’re a bit fat.”

I can’t grasp everything I’m hearing. I shouldn’t have asked that question.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t be my container/toilet (toilet is also another name you'll hear me use.) It’s actually better that way! And, all that fat…” he grabs a hold of my small but apparently huge belly “...is perfect for storage.”

He looks at his watch. “So we’ve gotta be moving on with this process. I have somewhere to be.” So this hatch stays locked, as you would imagine. Your space is more spacious than the last container, so be grateful for that! Also be grateful that I’ve allowed you a pillow and blanket. Along with some reading material. Not all of my containers have had this privilege. 

“As you can guess…” he points to the rather intimidating plush throne with a cushioned seat and large open space below. “...is my throne. You will be spending a lot of time under this thing. You'll get the privilege of spending hours under here. I can sit on my thrown all day. Jerking off to porn on my phone, texting my boyfriend and watching TV…” 

He gestures towards the large display. Equipped with every gaming console and a large porn library.

All while you’re licking, eating and storing. 

“Oh! When is your birthday?”

I hesitate before telling him.

“Hmm, just passed. Every year on your birthday. after I feed you and store whatever I see fit...Ill shoot my load in your mouth and down your throat. I try to show my appreciation from time to time...but you must remember that you will never touch or taste my cock.” 

He ensures me this is when I’m supposed to nod. I comply.

“Every Sunday. Permitting I won’t be travelling for work or with my family/boyfriend. I will remove you from your home for a hand feeding. This will not be shit, piss or anything you’d consume daily. I’ll have to be better this time about how quick I push you into storing certain things.”

He looks back his watch.

“Fuck. Im going to be late for dinner. Okay. I need to hurry this up.”

He motions towards the door.

“You open it. It’s tradition that you seal the deal.”

I hesitate. I’m crying beyond belief. 

“There there. You can do it” he lulls.

He puts my hand on the handle to the small door. 

My day flashes before my eyes. This can’t be happening. Is this my fault?

I slowly open the door and crawl into the cramped place. It’s just enough height for me to sit cross-legged. My mind must be adjusting because I already view this as being generous of him. He latches the door behind me and stands up. He has a smile on his face and looks validated. 

He walks over to the section of glass where he can stand above me. He looks me in the eyes with a sternness I have not seen before.

“One last thing...if you ever deny me the use of that body that I know own and ...I have many videos I will happily show you. Where you would easily what happens to those who deny me what I deserve. Okay? Verbalize”

He doesn’t tell me to say it formally but I answer with “Yes Sir”.

“Awesome! Id typically feed you something but I want my container completely empty tomorrow before we start your training.”

He stands back up and heads towards the door. He takes one last look at his watch, cursing how much of his time this has consumed. He reaches for a remote. 

“I personally hate the sound of quiet. It absolutely drives me crazy. So...I enjoy the sounds of classical music. Do you like Vivaldi? I hope you do.”

The room starts to fill with the sound of classical strings. 

“Good Night Container 12. Tomorrow will be a beautiful day”

 He turns out the lights. Im once again apparently adjusting because I feel privileged enough to have a soft warm light lining the inside of my box; stopping short of complete darkness.

I’d like to say I cried but for some reason I didn’t. I was fearsome of this man that has completely altered my function in this world. I was anxious about eating a mans shit for the first time. Apparently tomorrow would have the answer. To think hours ago I had almost backed out of this meeting. This man that was so hot and now only wants me as a functioning storage unit. I am saddened by the idea that i will never really have sex with a man, but maybe I can look forward to the privilege of making out with his hole. After all, I’ve never done that before. 

I can’t accept this. This is just temporary. He can’t keep me here forever. I need to keep my mind sharp. Regardless, tomorrow is going to be rough.