I have my own kinky universe I've been working on but unsure how to make my convoluted lore make sense. Obviously writing stories with it is good but do you also make stand alone explanation posts? An introduction to start things off and then the stories? I don't know where to start
I started writing in the universe first, then made posts explaining details and answering questions afterwards. Readers are more incentivised to remember the lore if they have something to link it to.
A story loosely set on the Wasteless universe of @writinggross. Where Human toilets are commonly accepted. This is supposed to be set a little early on, when they were more a privilege.
In this world, the competition for a decent Job that could keep you afloat and away from falling in debt was even more harsh than on earth. This led to many employees to accept otherwise crazy conditions in their jobs.
There was a certain Elite X Company who installed a system to encourage their salesmen to put in the extra effort in their job.
The company paid a base salary plus the percentage every salesman earned with their own efforts. An unbelievably favorable deal for anyone in this world and age. However, in order to guarantee their utmost performance the “Sales Rewards and Service Program”.
The sales reward program rewarded the best sellers with benefits, bonuses and other privileges while also “encouraging” those that fell behind.
This encouragement came in various ways depending on how you ranked, but the most notable one was the ‘Service Learning Program’ where the lowest sellers were temporarily given as assistants to the best ones as an additional reward for their performance. The serving seller then would use the opportunity to learn from his better, and thus be encouraged to do better.
But while they’re said to be assistants, the truth is these were more like punishments and treated almost as common servants or slaves, and were often asked by their colleagues to do humiliating tasks such as massaging their feet or serving as footstalls. They were even sometimes asked to serve as fart filters or urinals, depending on who they were assigned to.
However, only the worst seller actually had to be an actual Toilet Slave for the best seller.
The unlucky loser this time had been Charles, while the winner was a transfer from another branch of the company, Tristan.
…
He had just gotten to the company when Tristan called him. “The Boss said you’re gonna be shadowing me from now on, he also said that until the week is over you’re in charge of all my eh… ‘Hygienic necessities and comfort’, which ‘includes but is not limited to all of the users emissions’ ” He read from a document in his hand.
“It also says that I shouldn’t use the company’s installations since you’re my assigned ‘Waste Management Utility’ ” He huffed. “So, I guess you’re gonna be my Toilet and Fart Sniffer for the rest of week and I wanted us to get acquainted before that happens, but I’m really about to piss myself y’know? Mind if I take a leak real quick?” Charlie very much did mind, but he resignedly let Jonas lead him into the Toilets and made him knelt next to the urinals.
Charles’ stomach twisted as he knelt on the cold tile floor next to the urinals, the humiliation already burning his skin. Jhonnas stood towering over him, his dick and balls centimeters from his face as he felt the heat and smell radiating from them.
"Please," Charles whispered, voice cracking. "There’s gotta be another way”
"You signed the contract, Just like the rest of us, it’s as much my duty to use you as is your duty to be used by me, and I like this job." He tapped Charles' cheek with the tip of his flaccid dick.
Charles knelt, lips trembling and gut twisting in dread and anticipation. He knew there was no escape unless he resigned. But then, his career would be over. Even if he could somehow find another job, it wouldn’t be as well paid as this one, and it’d probably had similarly bad conditions.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t reluctant.
Tristan sighed, seemingly irked by the situation.
“Look man, you lost and now you're under my ass for a week, just cooperate and this will go over much more smoothly”. He said. "Now please open up. I’ve been holding it since the morning meeting when the boss told me you’d be my toilet, and I couldn’t use the urinals."
The groan that escaped Charles was raw, guttural. His hands clenched uselessly at his sides as he tilted his head back, mouth forced wide. The first hot, sour stream hit his tongue before he was ready, making him gag, urine dripping down his chin. He could feel it.
“Damn” he heard someone at the next urinal say. Tristan sighed above him, shifting his stance.
"Don’t let it drip man, you’re going to smell and you’re staining the floor. Plus I don’t want my shoes to smell like urine. Here, I’ll help you" He took a step in and his cock was now fully in his mouth.
“Close your lips around it so it doesn’t drip out, just think about it like a straw or something” He heard.
Of course, it was easy for him to say that, he didn’t have a dick peeing in his mouth. Still, Charles obeyed, and the bitter salt flooding his senses was overwhelming as his cheeks swelled with the taste of urine and he forgot to swallow, some of the yellow liquid streaming down his chin.
He could now feel Tristan’s slight irritation, so with great effort he managed to push the warm liquid down his throat in a few big gulps.
“You see? It wasn’t that bad” Tristan said, as he shook his dick in front of his face to get rid of the drops clinging to him. It seemed to be a reflex to him, as he barely even looked down at him. It had been. It had been that bad. And the worst part? This was just the start.
Charles’ mouth still burned with the acrid aftertaste as Tristan zipped up, leaving him kneeling in the rank puddle of his own shame. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting the tiled bathroom in a sterile glare that only made the humiliation sharper. The sharp scent of ammonia clung to his lips, his tongue swollen and heavy.
…
Now in Tristan’s office, Charles knelt beside his chair, the lingering bitterness in his mouth nothing compared to what came next.
Tristan originally had planned leaving Charles knee by the side of his chair, but then he remembered one of his colleagues that had used a Toilet Slave once said to him that when prepping one for his first use, he should first get his acquainted with his ass, weight and his emissions and that he should first use him as a chair beforehand. He planned to get Charles used to it today and maybe tomorrow before using him as a shitter for the first time, as he would need to do so at least once according to the contract.
Tristan had never had the privilege of breaking in a Toilet, so he decided to follow his friend’s advice. He felt a little uncomfortable being bare-assed in the office though. Even if it was technically a private one, he still had crystal walls so he decided not to take off his pants.
"I’m going to be sitting on you during my shift, like a chair, being a fart filter is one of the jobs underlined and it’s better to follow through so the boss doesn’t get mad anyway" Tristan said stiffly–It was partly true, the fart thing, not the chair thing though— lifting his hips and leaning back in his chair. Before Charles could react, a meaty hand clamped around the back of his neck, dragging him forward until his nose pressed against the straining fabric of Jhonnas’ slacks.
The musky heat of his ass radiated through the material, already thick with the promise of what was coming. Tristan didn’t bother unbuttoning his pants—just shifted his weight and sat, his full weight grinding Charles’ face into his clothed cheeks.
"Get acquainted I guess" he murmured, just as his phone rang. The first fart tore through the fabric hot and thick, flooding Charles’ nostrils with the dense, fermented stink of eggs, coffee and rotten meat. He jerked, but Tristan held him firm, his ass heavy enough to smother any escape.
"Mm, yeah, I can pencil you in Thursday," Tristan said into the phone, voice smooth even as his ass clenched, forcing out another gurgling burst directly into Charles’ mouth and nose. He groaned, and Tristan put more of his weight like trying to silence him.
“Hold a second” He said to the phone and put a hand over the microphone, lifting his ass a little to see the man under “Hey Charles, could you be more quiet down there, I don’t want the clients noticing you please? ”
“You try doing it man” Charles said spitefully. He really wasn’t in the mood.
Tristan rolled his eyes, he was still a little sympathetic as he turned back to his call.
The taste seeped past his lips—sour, greasy and heavy— and his throat convulsed. By the third barrage, Charles’ eyes glistened with tears, his breathing reduced to shallow, panicked gasps between each humid wave of Tristan’s digestion.
The man above him chuckled, unbeknownst if it was because of something in the call or because he was enjoying himself. When the call ended, Tristan finally stood up, leaving Charles swaying on his knees, his face slick with sweat and the lingering reek of gut fumes.
"Lunchtime," Tristan announced, standing up and stretching. "Don’t eat anything. The instructions said you should limit yourself to ‘consuming only what the user provides during office hours’ and about you not being allowed to use the cafeteria facilities" He paused, looking down at Charles’ ashen face.
…
Tristan ate carelessly and plentifully, seemingly not caring about the fate of his now Toilet. He could hold it until he got home, probably. Either way, he was entitled to a bigger and nicer bonus thanks to his achievements and he planned on taking advantage of it.
There was nothing refined about the way Tristan worked through his meal, carving through the thick meat in relentless bites.
Charles watched, jaw tight, as butter dripped from a smashed-open baked potato onto Tristan’s plate, only to be scooped up and folded into the next forkful along with some meat. Coke fizzed as he took deep, satisfied gulps between mouthfuls, his free hand already reaching for another buttered roll.
"Damn, that’s good," Tristan muttered, wiping his mouth with his napkin before diving back in. His stomach rounded slightly under his shirt, fabric straining just enough to hint at the pressure building inside.
By the time the plate was clean with steak fat smeared across it, crumbs of bread and flecks of potato clinging to the edges. Tristan leaned back with a low groan.
He patted his stomach, fingers pressing into swollen belly. "Fuck, I’m bursting,"
Charles' knuckles went white under the table.
Before going back to the office, Tristan took Charles to the bathroom to take a leak again. Charles was admittedly relieved, as he thought maybe he would escape his fate for one day. Maybe Tristan’s gut schedule meant he didn’t shit in the office. Maybe he would only be an urinal, and that was okay by him at this point.
Then in the office, Tristan worked some more. Of course, sitting on Charles face as he typed in his computer and occasionally talked to some clients. Progressively though, the farts came more often, stealing Charles of the few fresh air and replacing it with hot bursts of sewage like fumes as the food Tristan just ingested traveled through his digestive system.
At least, until the dread time came, and shattered his hopes.
*Schlrrrppp!* A particularly wet and nasty fart made Charles choke as Tristan suddenly stood up from his chair.
“Hey man, I really gotta use the Toilet now”
“You mean, like, you have to pee?” Charles asked hopefully, already dreading the answer.
“No man, like, I really gotta take a shit now” Tristan said plainly “Come on man, I really cannot wait any more,” he said more urgently as he strutted towards the private toilet in his office.
Reluctantly Charles followed him to the Toilet room. Where Tristan was already waiting.
"Come on, I’m really bursting and cannot wait more" he grunted. “Lie down already”.
Charles did so with great reluctance, lying down on the cold floor as his face aligned with the squat toilet on the bathroom floor.
Tristan unbuttoned his slack and undo his belt, and the sound was nearly drowned out by the thick, bubbling growl of his gut.
"Here we go," Tristan sighed, squatting and easing himself down as he pushed his pants down and placed his weight on Charles face, trying to align his asshole with his mouth as he did so.
Charles opened his mouth, and soon he had a pulsing hairy asshole comfortably between his lips.
*Pbtbtbtbtb!*
The first blast was rancid and hot of half-digested steak and garlic, a hot, gassy punch that flooded Charles’ mouth before he could even gag. He choked, shoulders jerking, but Tristan just braced his hands on his knees and pushed, letting loose a shuddering stream of thick, sour air.
"ahhh" Tristan sighed, shifting his weight to squeeze out another wet, gurgling sputter.
Charles’ eyes watered, his throat burning with bile and humiliation, but Tristan wasn’t done.
Tristan shifted, letting his slacks sag further down his hips—not for humiliation, not for cruelty, but because he was comfortable. Why shouldn’t he be? This was just a function, natural as breathing. He had been feeling a little guilty up until now, of having to use his coworker as a mere toilet, but at this critical moment where he needed relief he finally had come to terms with it.
Charles was a human being, yes. But right now, he was only his toilet, and he really needed to take a shit. So he would have to treat him like a toilet.
So, with great effort, Tristan grunted as he dumped the contents of his bowels on Charles’s own hot wet orifice. A big solid log sliding out of his arse and into Carles mouth.
He felt Charles buckle under him, retching and moving, but he pinned him down with his weight and held his legs from moving. The effort made Tristan’s gut loosen, and he really wanted to release another load, but he held to not choke Tristan.
He had researched the internet while in his office, and people said that he needed to wait until the Toilet finished chewing before letting another load. But he was impatient. Especially after feeling Charles stilling under him, frozen as if Tristan wasn’t in a rush to continue.
“You have to chew, chew man. Or I guess chew Toilet Charles, otherwise you’ll feel sick of the stomach later. If you cannot chew it down in the next three minutes tops, I’ll continue and I swear I won’t stop just because you’re having another one of your freakouts” Tristan said, urged and irritated. “I swear I’ll push it down straight into your throat and stomach and not stop until I feel relieved” He said, and put a chronometer on his phone.
“Lick my arse when you are ready for the next mouthful”. He said, and let himself be more comfortable by resting more of his weight on his Toilet’s face-seat. Crushing Chalres painfully under his weight. Not like he cared anymore, the man was not cooperating, so he could be treated like a toilet.
Meanwhile, Charles had received a shock. The taste of Tristan’s shit was undescribable, pungent and acrid. Like garlic and onion and fat and rotten meat. It was warm like the man’s own guts, and it felt like a mockery of the food he had eaten. It overwhelmed Charles' senses, as his own body rejected the waste coming out of the other man’s body.
It didn’t care about the logic of his mind, or keeping his job, it was just so awful and degrading it triggered his own survival instincts.
He struggled with no purchase, and finally calmed when his body realized there was no escape.
It was then that Tristan lost his patience, and made his threat. Still struggling, Charles chewed through the monstrous log, releasing even more of the pungent taste and aroma until it felt as if it escaped through his nostrils as he swallowed bit by bit.
When he finally finished, and signaled Tristan by lapping at his ass and touching his cheeks.
“Fucking finally” He said and let his entrails loose.
The next mouthful was not easier than the first, and his body still retched trying to throw up, but he swallowed it with all his will. If there was a small mercy, it was that it wasn’t an as generous as the first had been. But the large man was still far from empty.
He did the same with the next dump, establishing into a routine, trying to disassociate. He felt Tristan push, his hole trembled and farted and let loose a fart or two as he pushed his waste onto Charles mouth, he chewed holding down his own retching instincts and swallowed down. Then, he lapped at
By the end Charles was shocked as a more liquid shit spayed with pressure into his mouth, little bits clinging everywhere as the intestinal acids of the Tristan burned his mouth, filling it to the brim with a hellish soup. At the very least, they were easier to swallow, and he swallowed two more before Tristan finally stopped.
Tristan hadn't paid him more attention after his initial outburst, and was staring at his phone. Charles felt he had finished though, but Tristan still grunted and pushed empty air as he made sure he was really empty.
Once he was sure, he told Charles to clean him. Charles obeyed the seemingly mild order after the deluge of horrors he had passed through recently, licking the other man’s ass as clean as he could.
Tristan then finally stood up and pulled up his pants. He looked down at the wrecked image of Charles, red and teary face and tongue stained brown and said “You can take a break, the day is almost over anyway. Go clean yourself, and I expect you tomorrow at my office at 8:00 A.M sharp”.
Before leaving the room he said.
“Don’t eat breakfast, I’ll eat an extra portion for you”. He had enjoyed that more than he thought he would.
Very different post to usual, but I'm feeling inspired for the first time in months!
I've been seeing a lot of the nasty, urine-soaked, micro-penis, fauxcest, age-regression, puppy-play, non-con side of The Pitt's fandom lately.
Obviously, I'm intrigued.
I can't tell you how much content I've already consumed despite having not yet seen the show, and I'm starting to fear that once do get around to watching it, I'll be compelled to break my "no fan fiction" rule. But I also think this might be the sort of fandom that wouldn't crucify me for it?
With that in mind, if any of my followers are fans of The Pitt, please throw some gross prompts, kinky headcanon, or general Pitt-related depraved thoughts into my ask box. I'll most likely put something together once I've completed season 1.
I would really like to make the older men to defile the pretty farmboy. Please and thank you.
Love reading about the wasteless universe lore. When and how did human toilets become acceptable? Were people against it at first?
The world has a massive water shortage. To start with, Human Toilets were implemented in prisons, taking advantage of how society views certain criminals as less than human.
First, they forced the worst offenders to work as Showers, then when the small amount of social backlash wore off, they implemented the Toilets in prison as well.
Once society got used to that, and it became clear that no one really cared about the rates at which prisoners were dying, they brought in small, specialised training facilities so that lesser criminals could do "volunteer work". This increased their chances of survival and saved water in public places.
Next, political prisoners started being put into training facilities to serve the elite.
By the time people had gotten used to seeing the occasional Human Toilet out in public, the system has been around long enough for some victims to have had children, so the government moved to designate any child conceived while either parent is serving as a toilet to be sub-human. They're raised in orphanages that reinforce their inhuman status until they reach adulthood, when they are transferred into a training facility. These toilets were also sold to the elite, until there were enough perspective toilets for them to be sold to the public.
I haven't written anything in ages, to be honest. I've had no motivation. They said, I do have most of the next chapter of A Desperate Situation (remember that thing? It's been fucking years) drafted, and some of the second part of Breaking His Soulmate. Once I'm back to posting, those will likely be the first stories to go up.
Hey, In the Toilet Slave universe, how much is it used (or how much authority is needed) to be a Toilet/Urinal as punishment? Or how is it viewed? Like, could a Teacher at a College punish someone to be one (Either his personal one, or a public one) as a lesson? Or could a policeman assign it kind-of like a fine?
Also, how does one become a Toilet Trainer. Do they have to get like a license? Or do they get to train someone as an exam? Or something like that?
Thank you for the question!
Outside of prisons, it's technically quite rare for someone to be forced to become a toilet. Only the offspring of human toilets, and the direct relatives of extremely dangerous criminals (serial killers; long-term, repeat violent offenders) and those of government enemies are forced into it.
They said, it's offered to all criminals, no matter the severity of the crime, as an alternative to prison. I explained in another ask that prisons in Wasteless/the Human Toilet world are uniquely horrific. The lack of proper hygiene facilities combined with starvation and dehydration make spending more than a few weeks in one a death sentence. This is used to incentivise people into basically begging for "community service".
Universities and workplaces take huge advantage of the high poverty rates, and the fact that homelessness is illegal, in order to pressure people into "volunteering" for disgusting things. A professor can't punish a student by using them as a toilet, but they can offer it as a means of making up a failed assignment, knowing full well that the student will lose their scholarship (and therefore their future livelihood) if they refuse. There's not a lot of literal force, but it is normal and acceptable for people in good social standing to manipulate those below them with the allusion of choice.
Becoming a trainer at a Toilet Training Facility requires a bachelor's degree, which covers a variety of topics: psychological conditioning (how to generate obedience), teaching strategies (to ensure they can give clear instructions and useful feedback), and human biology (to help them form training methods that cause as little physical harm as possible). It's actually a very difficult, specialised role, due to them needing to mould another person's behaviour quickly (every new Toilet is brought in with an expected "auction" date) but without doing any lasting physical damage or noticeable psychological damage (Toilets must submit, not cower. They can't be too terrified to be useful). Since being a trainer pays well and the degree is significantly cheaper than med school, it's a common job for prospective doctors, who use it to save up before returning to uni.
I sent a part of one of your stories (the bathtub part of Spoilt Brat) to the chubby daddy I’ve been hooking up with. He laughed and said I was a perv but if it’d make me happy, he’d have a think and come up with a similar scenario for him to do to me. Wish me luck I guess?
I will, but obviously you're already really fucking lucky! 😍
(Contains: M/M, face and mouth farting, urination/urine-drinking, cum-drinking, humiliation, parent-child power dynamic, non-sexual (to the characters) incest, toilet licking, scat and scat-eating. Teen characters are 18-years-old.)
Adrian’s vision shook with every beat of his heart. His leg bounced in time with it, even when he used both hands to hold it still. Bile clawed up his throat and filled his mouth with an acrid taste.
A fan made sequel for one of my favorites @writinggross stories that left me wanting more. Decided to divide it and post into two parts because I got a little carried away. Same content warnings as the original.
Hey, one of your stories got reposted on deviantart and while they technically did credit you, it's not very apparent. The comments are talking as if the reposter is the original artist and the reposter mentions selling in the comments so I am concerned they might try to profit off your work
If you are uncomfortable clicking a random link their username is shyshwhwyaahgs
If anyone who has an account on Deviant art (mine got nuked) would be so kind as to leave a comment linking to the AO3 version of my story, and also maybe send that link to the person in the comments asking about a chapter 2 (seeing as I did, you know, write 3 chapters) that would be awesome!
Thank you! I'm going through a thing, but I'll be back eventually. I started a few different stories last year that I never finished, so I'll be posting those, at the very least.
Thought of a short story in the wasteless universe. Not 100% sure if it fully adheres to all the lore, but here goes…
Here I am waiting outside the dean's office. I got an email saying that he needed to meet with me immediately, but he didn't say why. I didn't really think much of it until he called me in and I was met with a terrible surprise. There were three chairs in front of his desk and Brandon and Nick were sitting in two of them. They are the two people I hate most in the world. They're star members of the college football team and it seemed like their personal mission was to make my college experience as miserable as possible. They bullied me nonstop and since they were athletes (and also because Brandon's dad was rich and donated a lot of money to the school), they were able to get away with pretty much anything.
Feeling very uneasy, I made my way over to the other chair in front of the dean's desk. He told me the reason I was there is because Brandon and Nick claimed they saw me cheating on an exam in class the other day. I tried to deny it, but it was their word against mine. Two against one. He said normally I would just get a 0 for the assignment and be put on probation, but apparently there's a cheating epidemic going on. He was seriously leaning towards suspension to make an example out of me.
I was freaking out and tried to protest, but Brandon interrupted. He said in his mind, that would be letting me off too easy. He knows his dad wouldn't want to continue to donate to a college with a cheating problem, so it would be in the dean's best interest to use me to really prove a point and discourage other students from cheating. The dean asked him what punishment he would suggest. Brandon pointed out that one of the volunteer toilets in the football locker room just quit and having me serve as the replacement would be the perfect punishment. I could tell the dean thought that was a bit harsh but, in the end, he agreed that having me serve as a toilet for the football team for a week would definitely send a message. Brandon laughed and said that a week was nowhere near long enough. In fact, he had spent some time thinking of the ideal parameters for my punishment.
First, my punishment would last for the entire remainder of the semester. Second, all other volunteer showers/toilets would be reassigned away from the football locker room: I was to be the sole personal shower/toilet for the entire football team. Third, I was to be kept inside a toilet stall in the locker room 24/7 for the duration of the punishment unless I was specifically needed to service the football team. Finally, if I tried to get out of the punishment or disobeyed any orders from Brandon or Nick, I would be expelled. The dean and I were completely shocked by how sadistic Brandon's plan was. I was so stunned that I couldn't even form the words to object. The dean did try to reason with Brandon, but the university couldn't afford to lose Brandon's dad as a donor, so reluctantly the dean signed off on the plan.
Brandon then ordered me to strip naked. I tried to refuse, but the dean reminded my that I would be expelled if I didn't listen. Once I was fully naked, Brandon handcuffed my hands behind my back and then he and Nick dragged me across campus to the locker room. Being paraded across campus naked was completely humiliating, especially since they made sure to stop multiple times and let people take pictures. When we got to the locker room, they brought me into an empty toilet stall and chained me to the wall so I wouldn't be able to escape. Then they attached a tube to my dick and a weird funnel looking device to my ass. They said that way I'd be able to go to the bathroom without making a mess. They both had massive grins on their faces. I asked them why they were doing this to me and the only reply I got is "because it's fun".
After that, Brandon decided it was time for the main event. He made a point of telling me he hadn't shit in three days in preparation for this. He started by pulling out his dick and told me to open my mouth. I didn't want to give in, but he grabbed one of my nipples and squeezed it as hard as he could. When I opened my mouth to scream he started pissing in it. The taste made me gag and I could feel some dribbling down the side of my mouth. He told me he'd give me a pass since it was my first time, but in the future any spillage would result in me being punished. Once he finished, he turned around and pulled down his pants and underwear. I thought he was gonna have me lie on the floor, but he ordered me to stay upright and arch my back. Then he sat on my face. I thought my back and neck were gonna snap from his weight. He told me if I did anything to cause him to fall off, I'd regret it.
He positioned his asshole over my nose and started releasing some rank farts. He made a comment about how his protein shake was hitting hard today which got a laugh from Nick. Finally, he shifted so his asshole was over my mouth. He told me to open wide. I tried refusing again, but a kick to the crotch quickly took care of that. Nothing could have prepared me for the taste of Brandon's shit. It was indescribable and made my tongue burn. I'm surprised I was able to take it all without puking. This ordeal lasted for at least 10 minutes. Brandon wanted to take his time and savor the experience and, as he'd mentioned, he'd been holding it in for a few days so he was really able to drag this out. Once he was done, he told me to lick his asshole clean.
He probably would have sat there longer if Nick didn't stop him. Apparently, Nick wanted to ensure that my first time was memorable so he took a laxative and was now about to burst. As soon as Brandon got up, Nick pushed me down to the ground so that I was lying on my back and then slammed his ass down onto my face. He used his weight to force my mouth open and basically created an airtight seal between his asshole and my mouth. Before I even had time to process any of that, liquid shit started exploding out of his ass. It was so sudden and loud that it even caught Brandon off guard. I struggled to keep up with it, but due to the seal Nick created with my mouth it was basically forced down my throat. I could hear Nick sigh with relief as he forced it all out, meanwhile I literally felt like I was drowning. At one point I puked and had to swallow it back down because there was nowhere else for it to go.
Once Nick finished and had his asshole licked clean, they decided to call it a night. But Brandon had one last surprise in store for me. He told me he wanted me to wash his lucky jockstrap for him. He reached into his bag and pulled out the most discolored and disgusting looking jockstrap I'd ever seen. He took great pleasure in telling me it has never been washed and then shoved it in my mouth. Then he taped my mouth shut and because "he didn't want me to get to used to fresh air", he took one of his cleats and tied it to my face with my nose shoved inside. With that, the two of them turned off the lights and left.
…
As you can imagine, being the only toilet for the entire football team was an extremely unpleasant experience. During practice/game days, there was always a seemingly neverending line of guys waiting to use me. If anyone didn't want to wait in line, they just went in a nearby bucket. At the end of each day, Brandon would shove a funnel in my mouth and dump in the contents of the bucket. And even when the locker room wasn't actively in use, guys would still come use me whenever they pleased. It wasn't just limited to toilet duties either. I was used as a washing machine, punching bag (my poor nuts), and a disposal for all matters of bodily fluids from loogies to snot rockets and more. Players also loved having me give them tongue baths, rim jobs, and blowjobs. One player who had a really bad foot odor issue really took pleasure in having me clean his feet with my tongue and making me eat his toe jam. There was also the constant mental struggle of being chained in a bathroom stall 24/7.
Brandon was definitely the worst though. He basically gave up on using any other bathroom. If he had to go during class, he would come to me. He would even walk over from his dorm in the middle of the night sometimes when he had to go. Whenever he used me, he always required me to be sitting up with my back arched which meant that my back and neck were pretty much constantly sore. And he made clear that for the rest of the semester he would not take a regular shower once and that my tongue would be the only thing cleaning his body. Sometimes, he would bring a small table into the stall and just sit on my face for hours doing school work or whatever while ripping ass as much as possible. He liked to do anything he could to make this as bad as possible for me. One time he even dumped an entire jar of fiber powder into the team's water cooler.
…
One day, I was really surprised to see Brandon appear with my older brother Tim. Tim lived nearby and since I went to college out of state and my parents couldn't visit often, he would come check on me periodically. Apparently he dropped by and was surprised that I wasn't in my dorm. He asked around and someone said that he could find me here. I thought for a brief moment that I might be saved until he started laughing. He said that growing up I was always the favorite child, so it's good to see that someone finally put me in my place. Brandon asked Tim if he had to go to the bathroom but Tim sarcastically replied that he could never do that to his brother. Brandon ordered me to beg Nick to use me and I had no choice but to do so. Of course it didn't take much convincing.
As Tim was sitting on me dumping his load, he told me that he was gonna report back to our parents and tell them I was really enjoying college. He would also text them from my phone periodically to let them know everything was good. That way there would be nothing stopping me from serving out the full duration of my punishment. Brandon then mentioned that they had an away game this coming weekend and invited Tim to come use me in the team's absence. Tim gladly agreed, sealing my fate with a massive fart…
Great story! It would be more lore-accurate if Brandon was the dean's son (you can get around any rules with enough corruption), but I'll forgive that because this is hot as shit. Fantastic job!
Question: Why does your page have no archive? It makes it a little bit harder to find the old content.
I'm honestly just not great at using Tumblr. I started out on DeviantArt, which I did have a decent grasp on, but when that account got nuked I was forced to try and figure this site out. I still don't understand how to use most features. Any tips would be appreciated!
Do you have more info/lore on the toilet slave universe?
Established lore:
- The 'human toilet' and 'human shower' system was created by a corrupt government to address a water shortage. It started in prisons, with the worst of the worst being forced to act as toilets and provide tongue baths, so water wouldn't need to be directed to the bathrooms.
- People can be forced into toilet training programs for committing crimes, being connected to a person who committed a serious crime, or being connected to an enemy of the government.
- Training programs rely on a mixture of psychological conditioning (constant nudity, forced silence, sleeping on the floor, being referred to as toilets instead of people), physical torture (being sat on, forced to drink urine, only fed rotten or contaminated food until they're ready to eat shit, and other forms of punishment that I can go into if asked), and medical alterations (last resort is a surgery to make a person unable to throw up).
- After training, human toilets can be sold to individuals or families for private use, or placed in public institutions for public use.
- Willing human toilets exist and are highly sought after. They are treated better at the training facilities (because they aren't being punished for anything) and generally get to choose who they're purchased by. They tend to lead pretty cushy lives, sometimes even being treated like equal members of their household, because they're usually owned by people with scat fetishes who're turned-off by noncon.
- University students have the option to work as toilets and showers for their schools to avoid student debt.
New lore:
- The world of Wasteless/human toilets is very sex positive. There are sex-based university degrees that train professional whores. The government funds public whores who are sent to places like libraries, train stations and public parks for free-use. These people are willing and well-paid, sometimes even provided a personal 'human shower' by the government to keep them presentable for work.
- As a means of fundraising, toilet training facilities will rent their students out to both government events and private functions, where those who aren't yet able to stomach shit serve as seats. As the food in this world is often full of fat and grease, people tend to be gassy after meals, so to prevent guests being put off by bad smells, they get the choice to sit on the student's nose or open mouth for the course of the event. Sometimes accidents happen, and there's a bit of follow-through--in these situations, the guests are instructed to not get up from the chair until it stops convulsing.
- Homelessness is illegal. To avoid going to prison, people without homes can report to horrific shelters where they're provided donated food and water. People are very cruel in this society, and usually only donating food that has been chewed then spat out again, urinated on, or farted on. Donated water is usually soapless bath water containing dirt and urine. Occasionally water someone has defected in will be sent and the residents will be expected to drink it. These shelters are intentionally dehumanising because there is a shortage of human toilets (people are too afraid of becoming one to commit crimes or oppose the system), so anyone who remains in one of these shelters for more than three consecutive months is automatically recategorised as a toilet and sent to a training facility. The deplorable conditions are a form of light training to make the actual process run smoother.
I moved into my own shoebox apartment when I was 23 years old. I was eager for freedom from my parents but I could not have anticipated I would trade their watchful eyes for his…for Kyle’s.
I met him within my first few days living in the building. Getting back from seeing some friends the two of us ended up on the elevator at the same time. Likely in his mid forties the most accurate way to describe Kyle is that he is an ogre of a man. His size, the unruly chest hairy that I’d see escaping the tops of his shirts, and of course his scent. Being in an elevator with the guy made me learn that last one quite quickly.
Kyle wore a wife beater and black gym shorts. He looked stick. And no sooner than the doors closed the small space filled with his body odor. He must’ve noticed me because he joked “I can fill a space quite easily”. I gave him a polite little laugh. Which did not appease Kyle. “No seriously kid. Check it out.” He lifted his leg exaggeratedly and ripped a loud long fart. “What the fuck dude!” I immediately covered my nose with my shirt as like bursted with laughter
“Awh covering your nose ain’t no fair”. I thought he’d leave it with that but instead Kyle used his larger size to cram me into the corner of the elevator. My hands forced at my sides he smiled at me with his gross yellowing teeth. “Sniff my fart.” My eyes widened in fear. The elevator opened onto his floor but he made no movements. Instead once the door resealed he let out another grosss sounding sputtering fart. “Sniff it before the door opens again and I owe you another one” Kyle pressed his body harder into mine. He was definitely sticky with sweat.
I took a loud inhale and began to choke on the stink of Kyle’s fart. It smelled of shit and Brussels sprouts. Kyle licked his lips as I continued to sniff and gag. “Say you like sniffing my farts” Mortified and terrified I told Kyle what he wanted right away.
“I like sniffing your farts sir” I sounded like a little bitch.
My compliance was met with cruelty. Kyle leaned in a said “gooUERRRPdd” burping mid word and blowing it softly onto my face. He then stuck his hand into the back of his pants and scrunched his face up. When he pulled it out I saw his index finger was shiny. He took his finger and firmly wiped it across my nostrils. I gasped as I relaxed what he’d done. I could only smell shit. He’d marked me with his butt sweat. “So you can smell me later” Kyle gave me a wink and swaggered out of the elevator.
The following weeks I moved about the building with fear. I chose to only take the stairs not wanting to risk another run in with Kyle. It was just under a month later when we met again.
I was loading my laundry into the washing machine when I heard the loud click and slam of the door behind me. I gave a small glance behind me thinking not much of it only to do a quick double take when I saw the beast standing behind me. I turned fully around but still being crouched down to load the washing machine I fell back onto my boney butt.
Kyle sauntered up to me. His crotch at my eye level. He dropped his laundry back in front of me with a thud. “What perfect timing. Little sniffer boy here in the laundry room right where I need him.”
Kyle bent over and unzipped his laundry bag. I was struck with the stink already. It was sour like feet blended with the raw stink of shit. Without a hesitation Kyle grabbed me by the hair and shoved my face into the bag. “How’s that smell? Today’s socks and underwear day. I’ve probably worn each pair in there about five or six times each”
The scent had me believing him, but what kind of disgusting person has a laundry day just for socks and underwear?? They should be washed the most frequently. I was gagging in his stink while Kyle laughed loudly. Kyle didn’t leave me struggling in his laundry bag too long. After letting me free Kyle lightly slapped my cheeks. “Okay so you’re gonna do my laundry too. Got it!?” He commanded.
I went to start another machine when he stopped me. “No need. Just throw all my stuff in with yours” This proposition caused me to pause. There was no way I wanted to put underwear that had been worn up to six times by a gross fat hairy man in with my clothes. “Uh… that’s alright Sir I’ll just d”
Kyle effortlessly reached out and slapped me across my face. I let out a wimpy yelp. “Load your washing machine with my clothes now.” I followed my orders right away this time. I picked up Kyle’s bag and began to move the clothes into the machine.
The machine was already so full I knew that stuffing all of his extra socks and underwear in would mean that nothing would get fully cleaned. Kyle was likely aware of this too. Hoping that his nasty clothes would just contaminate my own.
This socks I put in were crusty and yellowing, and the boxers were far worse. Nearly all of them had long dark streaks of shit in them. Skid marks that looked as if someone intentionally wiped their ass with their underwear. I was heaving as I touched them and internally groaning as I watched them land on my clothing.
“What’s your apartment number fart lover?” Kyle seemingly decided that I did not have a say in what happened anymore. “7c” I said timidly. “Give me your key” He stuck out his meaty hand and impatiently slapped his fingers up and down into his palm to tell me to hand my keys over.
My head was trying to work out if there was some way I could avoid giving him my keys. But I knew I did not have enough time to figure that out. So with much reluctance I dug them out of my pocket and handed them to Kyle. He snatched them up and laughed in my face.
“Alright I’ll see you up there when our laundry is finished” and just like that he swaggered out of the room.
A while later when I made it up to my apartment I found Kyle sprawled out on my couch. He had stripped his shirt off and was drinking one of my beers. There were other cans on the floor as well. “Took long enough Princess” he spat at me. Then for the next hour he made me separate each of our clothes and fold all of his socks and underwear for him.
I could tell that I was right and the washing machine was unable to do much washing. His socks were less crusty than before but the skid marks in his underwear still remained.
All throughout me folding his clothes Kyle continually ripped ass over and over again. The same type of fart in the elevator. Loud and abrasive. Surely wet. It was no wonder he had such bad skid marks with the amount of farts he was letting out. At one point he even grabbed one of my couch pillows and just shoved it under his butt to fart on some more.
That night when he left he made me thank him for spending time with me. “Sissy boys like you are lucky to hang out with a real man” And he took my apartment key with him. Said he had a friend who’d make him a copy tomorrow.
From then on Kyle came around whenever he wanted. To drink my beer, eat my food, but more importantly to fart on my face.
He told me that when I admitted to him in the elevator that I liked sniffing his farts he vowed to himself that he would try his best to never waste a fart by letting it rip without my nose to sniff it up or my lips to catch it. He also made me alter my life so I was available as much as possible to be there to sniff his farts. Making me delete all the dating apps I had and tell the girl I had gone out a couple times with that I was no longer interested.
The first time he farted on my face was the day after I did his laundry. He came to my apartment that evening and returned my apartment key. Kyle then told me he had something he wanted to show me.
I had already been forced to my knees so Kyle turned his back to me and pulled down his jeans. Looking directly into his beefy butt already had me wanting to cry but it was the state of his ass that really set me over the edge. I knew the underwear he was wearing were a pair I’d “washed” the day prior. I could see the long streak of shit along his crack and now in addition to the skid mark there was a fresh dark line of sweat.
“Got some major swamp ass right now kid. Good thing you like sniffing my nasty ass right?” Kyle chuckled and shoved my face into the depths of his pudgy cheeks. I was being water boarded with ass sweat and that was still preferable to his brussel sprout shit flavored farts I was about to sample.
And so me sniffing Kyle’s butt and farts became normal, at least as normal as it gets for a struggling 23 year old being forced to do the nastiest thing of his life on a daily basis.
There’d be times when I’d hear my door unlock and his loud feet stomping into my apartment he’d yell “I got some beef for you boy!” And I’d be expected to crawl over to him and sniff it all up only for him to leave without so much as another word. And then there’d be other times when he’d show up and not leave for hours.
I remember one Saturday night in particular. It was around 10:30 pm and I had finally started to convince myself Kyle would not be coming that day. My first day since he started forcing me to sniff his farts that I’d get a break. Though break is generous since I spent the first twenty hours of the day anxious about when he’d burst through my front door.
I took some edibles and prepared myself a shower. The dosage I took was slightly larger than I was used to but I was feeling like treating myself. I took a long hot shower and when I came out I was sufficiently high. I sprayed lavender scented mist into the air and the steam took it up filling the room with the lovely fragrance. Taking my time I eventually exited the bathroom in just my towel.
Lost in thought, as I walked to my bedroom, I was singing along to the overplayed commercial jingle I could hear coming from my living room. I then paused realizing I did not have my tv on when I went to shower. Logically it makes sense that this would mean Kyle had come over but my stoned self didn’t even think of it.
I leisurely pranced over to the living room only for my face to pale and my stomach to drop when I saw him. Glancing away from the tv he saw me, a huge smile growing on his face. “Look who was getting all prettied up for me!” Kyle’s voice slurred. He was drunk. I was too high to figure out what I should be doing next but Kyle was more than happy to order me around. “Drop your towel and crawl over here pretty boy!” His words oozed with authority.
The dropping of my towel was met with a mean laugh. “Nice clit fart boy. No wonder farts turn you on. Can’t use that thing for anything anyways” I crawled to him in total embarrassment. I was a young guy. I should be in the prime of my life. Out having sex partying with my friends but instead I was here being degraded and farted on by a gross bully twice my age.
Kyle gets cruel when he’s drunk. But something about that night made him extra mean. I think it had something to do with our contrast. Him sweaty from being out at some club with his boys, smelling of stink and me freshly showered smelling of lavender. He rubbed his thumb across my lips. Kyle continued to raise my feeling of violation. “You look so nice and clean. But now you’re gonna use those pretty plump lips and soft clean skin to clean up my shitter!”
Kyle bent himself over my couch and pulled down the back of his pants and underwear. Showing me his putrid hairy butt. He laughed as my face contorted from the sight and scent.
“Get your pathetic face in there!” Kyle aggressively shoved my face deeply between his butt cheeks. “Get in there!” Kyle rubbed me all around his butt crack. Using me like toilet paper and moaning as he did so. I could feel the shit and sweat being rubbed deeply into my freshly clean skin. “Yea! YEA!” He was getting really into it.
Kyle turned around and looked at me. His eyes were dark and glassy. “You’re such a bitch you know that? Your pretty little face belongs in my butt”. I tried to conjure words but instead a single tear fell down my face. I was so high and Kyle did nothing to calm my fears. Kyle laughed at my tears and then resumed rubbing his butt with my face. “I want your cute nose covered in my shit! And I don’t want you to even think about washing it off either.” Kyle’s rhythm grew more aggressive, my face was now gliding between his butt cheeks. “You don’t deserve to smell clean. You should only ever smell like my butt. You got me princess!?” This time he pulled my face out briefly so I could respond. I gave a soft whimpering yes. “Nah use your head to say yes. I wanna feel that nose grinding up and down”.
This continued between us for hours. It must’ve been around 3:30 in the morning when Kyle finally passed out on my couch. He had been lying on his stomach and demanded I lay face down nose directly in his butthole. I cried myself to sleep in his butt cheeks that night.
As the summer came Kyle grew more nasty in his torment of me. He was a part of a men’s softball league which meant I got to be introduced to his lucky compression shorts, that have never been washed. It also meant swamp ass duty was more intense. Kyle was using my face to wipe the sweat from his butt crack cheeks near daily.
My least favorite torment that the summer brought was Kyle’s shit. Yes you heard me right. Kyle started exclusively pooping in my apartments bathroom. And he never flushes. It started one day when I returned home only to find Kyle’s disgusting creation filling my toilet bowl. I immediately flushed it and avoided entering my bathroom for the remainder of the day.
I got in a lot of trouble the next day when Kyle found out I flushed his shit. “Are you kidding me bitch!? I went outta my way to drop a bomb like that in your toilet and you just flush it? No thank you no nothing? Wow we’re really gonna have to teach you some toilet manners”
From then on I was not allowed to flush my toilet if Kyle had used it. He spent an afternoon farting on me and making me worship his butt only to let out a huge turd right before he left. “I’ll be away the next couple of days. But don’t flush that gift I made for ya. In fact tomorrow when you’re missing me I want you to go in there and take a few huffs of the toilet. So you don’t miss me too much. Send me some pictures too”
The smell of Kyle’s shit was worse than his farts. While having his brussel sprout beef blown straight up my nose was no pleasure it was far more bearable than the gag inducing strength of his shit. Kyle knew this though and was happy I hated his poops so much.
Another Saturday more recently Kyle as usual was lunging on my couch. He was wearing just his softball compressions and I had been spending the last couple hours kissing his butt cheeks back and forth sniffing his cracks and any farts he had whenever he demanded.
I was in great need of a break when Kyle got up. “Come on” he gestured as he started to walk down my hall way. “Can I help you Sir?” I questioned as I began to follow. Kyle stopped and looked back at me. “Yea, I gotta take a dump, let’s go”. My stomach dropped. “Oh uh you need me for that Sir?” I tried to play dumb. “Get your sissy ass in the bathroom now”
I tried to reason with myself that he was only bringing me in there to put the toilet seat down for him or something else easy, but in my gut I knew. He was waiting for me at the door with his perpetually satisfied smile. I entered my own bathroom, a place I’d grown to fear. Kyle followed in behind me shutting and locking the door. “Kneel in front of the toilet”
I obeyed even if my mind was begging me not to. Kyle dropped his pants and underwear and took a loud seat onto the bowl. “Ahhhhh” he let a sigh. “Nothing like the first shit of the day after a night out.” Kyle put his hand on my head and pulled me face forward into the bowl. My face filling the small gap between his thighs. The smell of his crotch and crack were already filling the space.
A whiny fart moaned out of Kyle’s butt filling the toilet with his signature combo of brussel sprouts and shit. The fart quickly developed into a sputtering. Shit sprayed out of his ass into the toilet.
“Oh fuck. Sir please this is too much!” I attempted to reason my way out. His hands and thighs had me locked in the toilet. Kyle laughed “here comes a big guy” he then pushed out a massive turd. It plopped into the bowl with a splash.
I gagged relentlessly. Barely being able to speak. “Please man fuck! Come on! This is too much” I was crying then. “You stink so bad. I don’t like this. Please” my last please came out as a crying moan. Kyle pulled my face from between his thighs though the smell of his dump had already filled the bathroom.
“You don’t like it?” Kyle asked. I continued to cry as I spoke. “No! I hate all of this. Please no more farts, no more swamp ass, no more poop!”
Kyle gave a light laugh. “Wow. I mean jeez kid. All this time. You’re been letting me use you as a fart cushion and as my asswiple all this time and now you finally come out and beg me to stop. That’s so pathetic. You’re fucking embarrassing. What would you rather be doing? Being a normal guy in his twenties? No you don’t deserve that. How could you deserve getting to be a normal guy when you’ve let me make you worship my disgusting ass, and we both know just how fucking nasty it is. You‘ve worshiped a filthy hairy man butt for months now, I’ve had you begging for farts. And now you tell me you don’t like them! No I don’t buy it. And even if I did. Too bad. You belong to me princess. So get your face back in between my thighs and take some long deep inhales of my dump. Cause just like all my farts are saved for your cute nose I’m gonna start save every shit for you too. We’ll have a nice bonding session every time I gotta take a dump. I’ll even let you pick sometimes if you’d rather wipe my ass clean with your hands, let me wipe my ass clean with your face, or if I should just go true man and leave things nice and messy down there for you.” The idea terrified me.
“Maybe I’ll take a big dump in one of the porta pottys over at the softball field. I won’t wipe and I will lock you inside for the game. Imagine that? 80 degree heat baking my fresh shit in there with you. Then once the games over I’ll come and get your fairy ass and give you a stinkface you could only dream about. My unwiped ass will dry in my crack plus the sweat from the game slathering it back up. It’ll be the best case of swamp ass I’ve ever had, but my butt will sure be itchy. And that’s where your pretty face and nose come in.”
I sobbed into the toilet. “Glad we’re on the same page. Now what’s it gonna be today Princess? I’m thinking since that face of yours is already covered in tears it’d make for some really good toilet paper!”
