Natalia Kapretti - Next step in educating toilet husband

Finally, after months of training, I felt that my toilet slave husband was ready for the next level of our twisted relationship. He had proven himself to be an obedient and eager slurper, always begging for another taste of my divine excrement. But I wanted more; I wanted him to truly become a toilet bowl extension of myself. It was time for some advanced toilet training techniques. I gathered my most intimate toilet slave girlfriends and we discussed various methods of pushing our toilet husbands' limits. We all agreed that finding the right "trigger" word was essential in breaking them down mentally and forcing them into complete submission. With that in mind, the following day I summoned my toilet husband to my chamber. He entered nervously, knowing full well that this was the moment he had been waiting for with bated breath - or should I say, shit-clogged mouth! I positioned him directly in front of me and, with a smile that could only be described as predatory, began to speak. "It's time for the next step in our journey together, my toilet bowl. You've done so well up until now, but there's still room for improvement." As he listened intently, I whispered my plan into his ear. "I want you to become completely and utterly lost in your need for me. I want you to beg me to shit in your mouth without any prompting at all. And I know just how to make that happen." My toilet slave husband looked at me uncertainly but nodded slowly, indicating his willingness to embrace this new level of humiliation. Little did he know what was about to be unleashed upon him. Armed with my newfound knowledge from my toilet slave girlfriends, I devised a plan that would break him completely. I spent hours crafting every single word, ensuring that each one would drive him deeper into his addiction. When I finally felt ready, I summoned him back into my bedchamber and began speaking with a confidence that belied my years of experience in this dark art. "You are nothing more than a toilet bowl to me, my pretty little turd-lover." My words flowed seamlessly, each one designed to weaken his resolve further. "You exist only to serve as my vessel for expelling all that disgusts me from my body. And there's nothing you'd rather do than be filled up to the brim with my perfect shit, is there?" I paused, watching closely as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down with anticipation. He could barely contain his excitement at the thought of being covered in my excrement. "That's what I thought," I continued, rubbing my thighs together suggestively. "Now, as you know, calling me 'Mistress' is an important part of our relationship. So when you beg for me to shit on you, I want you to say 'Please, my toilet Mistress' over and over again. Do you understand?" My toilet slave husband could barely contain himself; his cock was already rock hard at the thought of what was about to happen. Nodding vigorously, he replied "Yes, my toilet Mistress." "Good boy," I purred, running my hand through his hair. "Now get down on your knees and show me how much you want my shit." He knew what was expected of him; he knelt down in front of me, his mouth already watering at the thought of tasting me. "Please, my toilet Mistress," he whispered, his voice quavering with anticipation. "I am only here to serve as your toilet bowl. I am nothing more than a shitting vessel for my Mistress." The session continued for hours, with me pouring constant streams of filth into his eagerly awaiting mouth. Each time he finished swallowing my offering, he looked up at me pleadingly, his eyes wide with desire for more. And each time he did, I would smile down at him and tell him to wait just a little bit longer. I knew that by denying him sometimes, I was increasing his desire for what was to come. Finally, as the sun began to set, I decided that it was time to grant him his ultimate wish. I stood up slowly, deliberately giving him a view of my full glory as I did so. Then, with a smirk, I turned my back to him and said, "Now, I think it's time for you to clean up after your Mistress. Please." I could hear his breathing intensify as he approached me from behind, his tongue tentatively reaching out towards my asshole. And then, with one swift motion, he began lapping away at my juices and undigested food particles. As he did so, I opened my legs wider, allowing him access to my most intimate places. It didn't take long for him to become completely engrossed in his task; before long, his face was buried deep within my cleansed hole, tongue flicking away at every last bit of residue. And all the while, all he could think about was how much he loved being my toilet bowl. As I watched my beloved toilet slave perform his duties, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. I had taken him from being a normal man with no interest in such things to becoming a willing participant in one of the filthiest and most taboo practices known to mankind. And he loved every second of it. This was just the beginning, though; there were still countless ways to push him further, to see just how far he was willing to go for his Mistress. But for now, I contented myself with watching him clean up after me, my face beaming with satisfaction as I mentally prepared for our next session together.