Natalia Kapretti - Punishment for being late

It was already evening, and I was getting ready to feed my favorite Toilet Shit eater. He had gone to work early in the morning, and I waited for him anxiously all day long. Now, when I was finally ready, he was still not home - four whole hours late! I couldn't believe my eyes!

Needless to say, I couldn't wait any longer. I breathed deeply, trying to calm my nervousness, closed the toilet lid, and prepared the most humiliating punishment for my naughty toilet mouth.

I took out the jar I usually used to store my feces before feeding it to him, and began filling it up. I forced myself to relax as the warm, soft mass of shit slowly covered the bottom of the jar. It didn't feel right at all - it was like feeding myself to myself! But I knew that this was the only way to teach him a lesson he would never forget.

As I continued to pack the jar with my shit, I felt a strange mix of emotions: disgust, shame, and an unexpected thrill. After all, I was the one in control here. I was filling his toilet with my own feces, and he would have to eat it whether he wanted to or not.

Finally, I was satisfied with the amount of shit I had packed into the jar. There was no way he could possibly eat all of it! With a smug smile, I screwed the lid tightly onto the jar and set it on the floor next to the toilet. I had never felt more powerful in my life.

When he finally came home, looking absolutely exhausted and begging for forgiveness, I pretended to be angry but undecided. I asked him what he thought would be an appropriate punishment for someone who was four hours late. He pleaded with me not to do anything too drastic, but I was adamant. "I think you should eat your punishment," I said, my heart racing with anticipation.

His eyes widened in horror as he realized what I was suggesting. He protested, begged, and pleaded, but I remained firm. "I warned you, didn't I?" I asked, my voice cold but powerful. "Now you have to suffer the consequences."

Despite his protests, I sat down on the toilet and indicated for him to lean over, facing the bowl. I reached behind him and unscrewed the lid of the jar, taking a deep breath as the foul stench filled the air. "Open your mouth," I commanded, and he obeyed without hesitation. With trembling hands, he reached down into the toilet and scooped out a huge mouthful of my shit. His eyes were wide with shock and disgust, but he forced himself to swallow it down without making a sound. Tears streamed down his face, but he dared not disobey me.

I watched with a mix of horror and arousal as he continued to fill himself with my shit, obeying me like a faithful pet. With each new scoop, he seemed to sink deeper into submission, his pride and dignity shattered. When the jar was finally empty, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction, knowing that I had humiliated and punished him thoroughly. But at the same time, a part of me loved the power I had over him, the way he worshiped me even in his suffering.

As he cleaned up the mess he had made, I sat back and watched him, reveling in my newfound dominance. It was a heady feeling, knowing that I could reduce such a strong, independent man to this pathetic state just by giving him an order. I would never forget this moment - it was the height of my power, the low point of his pride, and the ultimate humiliation.