My balls, which had just been brutally caned by Master Chris, were now about to be used as a means of dragging a heavy rim-chair across the dungeon. Within minutes of their agonising encounter with the reformatory cane, they were swelling fast. My ball-sack was getting tighter and more painful as my well-beaten balls expanded. Little finger-nail flicks, tried experimentally a few times for fun by Master Eddie, made me yelp - they were each as bad as a firm kick in normal times.
Dragging a heavy piece of stainless-steel furniture, using only my balls, would be a horrible punishment in normal times. Using my caned swollen balls wasgoing to be a truly terrible torture. But I could see that it was now inevitable.
Master Chris ordered me to crawl to the side of the dungeon where there was a big cupboard, and then to turn so I faced away from the cupboard towards the middle of the room, and to wait there kneeling. They left the humbler attached, and it became more and more uncomfortable as my trapped balls swelled up even more.
Master Chris opened the cupboard and jerked my humbler back with a jolt that sent waves of pain into my balls and up into my stomach and groin. He was attaching me to the rim-chair with short chains at each end of the humbler and another chain in the middle: “You’re going to drag the rim-chair now. It weighs just over 18 kg, so you’ll have to put your back into it (I mean 'put your balls into it' hahaha). You’re going to drag it right across the other side of the dungeon and into the toilet.
"We've decided you'll get your tasty shit-meal from us in the toilet. We don’t want to stink the dungeon out. We've got to torture you in it tomorrow. When you're being tortured, you'll be in such screaming pain that you wouldn't fucking notice the smell. But you've got to think of us, the torturers. We don't want to smell your fucking shit-meal.
"There's also a high pressure hose and a drain next to the toilet for washing you after your disgusting duties, so you won't get shit everywhere. We don't want to step on bits of our shit when we're torturing you either.
"Now, get on with dragging that fucking rim-chair, criminal slave. Master Eddie’s bursting for a shit.”
In fact, Master Eddie had had more vodka and was looking distinctly ill.
“Get the fuck moving”, Master Eddie yelled. Then he kicked me on the heavily welted crease between my ass and thighs where Master Chris had aimed a number of his hardest cane-strokes. I screamed and felt blood trickling down my thighs, but I was grateful he’d at least missed my balls which I'm sure he was aiming for. I pulled with my balls. I think the humbler actually creaked. The chain connecting my humbler, and therefore my balls, to the rim-chair went taut. I pulled again but nothing happened, except a burst of ball-pain that made me shout out. I inched forward on my hands and knees and tried to drag that heavy rim-chair hoping to move it just a bit. There was another very sharp pain in my balls but the chair stayed put. “Fucking pull”, Master Chris shouted or I’ll repeat your whole fucking caning, ass, dick, balls, the lot."
I pulled. I really pulled. My balls screamed in agony as the humbler seemed to tighten on them. I pulled harder still and the chair shifted with a scraping sound on the concrete - just a few inches. I yanked and it scraped along a few more inches. The pain in my balls and guts was just terrible, a sharp pain whenever I pulled, followed by an ache in my balls and stomach which never went away but just got worse. It was the best part of thirty feet to the bathroom door. I felt I would never make it and would therefore be caned again.
The 18kg rim-chair had stopped. I pulled again with my balls. I tightened the chains again and dragged. Another massive burst of pain, intense spasms of pain alternating with that violent ache as I crushed my own swollen balls - but the chair moved about 12 inches this time. Would I really be able to do this?
The pain of that horrible torture never lessened but just intensified. Making me drag 18kg of metal over concrete with swollen balls was a brutal punishment, devised by these teenage sadists, and they were now enjoying it. They ‘encouraged’ me with kicks all over, stomping on my hands and arms when I collapsed on to the floor. They kicked me hard in the ribs, slapped my face and gave me extra squeezes and flicks on my balls. They laughed at me and asked if I wanted another caning or was I going to get on with it - "Put some fucking effort into it, you lazy cunt", said Master Eddie.
About three-quarters of the way to the toilet, I genuinely thought I couldn’t go any further. I didn’t move for about 20 seconds. I couldn’t. Master Chris picked up a small wooden paddle, about the size and shape of a ping-pong bat, but heavier and thicker, and he started beating my balls with it in fast time. Again and again and again. Master Chris's cruelty worked. To stop that new agony, I forced myself somehow to drag the rim-chair up to the bathroom door.
“I need a fucking shit – now" Master Eddie shouted in some distress.
Master Chris quickly undid the chains and lifted the rim-chair into the toilet. He positioned it in the middle of the floor, a couple of feet away from the normal toilet. My relief at being released from that particular dragging torture didn't last long. With an anxious-looking Master Eddie looking on and letting out some small farts, Master Chris quickly fixed a collar around my neck and made me lie under the rim-chair, where he attached my neck to each of its four legs. There was no escape.
I lay, naked, face-up, under a toilet-seat about to be used by a not-very-well 18 year-old sadist who was badly in need of a shit.
“Open your fucking mouth wide”, ordered Master Chris. "Right now, or I’ll cut your dick off”. I opened my mouth
With Master Chris still looking on, Master Eddie quickly lowered his trousers and boxers, sat on that toilet seat and let rip instantly. I watched in horror as, a few inches above my face, Master Eddie’s asshole opened up and released a huge wet fart and then instantly filled up with shit. His asshole frankly exploded in my face. A big pile of soft shit filled my mouth completely. I tasted its disgusting warm rotting flavour, and its vile stench filled my mouth and nose a split second later. My cheeks puffed out as more shit poured into my mouth and filled it. Master Eddie’s ass let rip again. His shit overflowed my mouth. It completely covered my nose, eyes and chin. A long hard turd dropped directly into my full mouth, making the earlier softer shit splash out over my face. Some fell on to the concrete floor. I was a toilet. I was utterly degraded and utterly defeated.
Master Chris started laughing. “How do you like your new work, criminal slave?”, he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. My mouth was too full to speak anyway. “Start eating Master Eddie’s shit. Now!”
I had somehow to overcome the shock of being used as a toilet and the horror of Master Eddie’s explosive bowels. I had no choice. I had to start eating Master Eddie's shit.
I tried to swallow some of the shit already in my mouth. It took a huge effort of will but, somehow, I forced some of Master Eddie’s early soft shit down my throat. It had a wet muddy texture. The taste was much stronger as it hit my palate and slid down my throat into my stomach. The horrible texture hit first and then the vile taste. The rotting taste was utterly repulsive. Master Eddie's waste still had some of the tastes of the food he had eaten earlier in the day and possibly the previous day too, and it was all combined with a revolting rotting gaseous taste which was even worse than the smell that was now starting to overwhelm my senses.
I swallowed a bit more and retched. “If you puke, filth, you’ll eat your own puke as well as Master Eddie’s shit and we’ll then stick a fat dildo up your ass for 48 hours – you can imagine how that’ll feel!” Master Chris had done this before with his family slave.
Slowly, horribly, I swallowed the shit that filled my mouth. A small turd slipped off my upper lip and I swallowed that too. I was told to use my bare hands to push the rest into my mouth, including the big and more solid turd which had slipped on to the concrete floor. I was holding that turd in my hands when Master Eddie stood up and looked down at me. His face contorted.
“Throw up on the slave”, said Master Chris.
The young sadist smiled ever so slightly, as he knelt over the rim-chair with his face a few inches from mine. He retched horribly. Some slime fell from his mouth into my mouth. I was still holding on to one of Master Eddie's turds as I looked up helplessly, chained inside this vile toilet.
“Open your fucking mouth, slave or you know what'll happen to you", Master Chris warned.
I opened my mouth and Master Eddie puked at once into my shit-lined mouth and over my shit-covered teeth and tongue. Two puke explosions filled my mouth again and covered my face again. The second one mostly went over my eyes and hair. Master Eddie spat a couple of times, puked a third time rather less but producing more solid waste which dropped in disgusting lumps into my mouth.
Then he went to get a glass of water. I was left with a fresh ‘meal’ of Master Eddie's puke.
“Eat everything, filth. I’m watching” said Master Chris, who had brought a chair into the toilet. He was smiling and looking through the toilet seat. I started to swallow the vomit which had dropped into my mouth.
Master Eddie’s vomit tasted mainly of bile at first, that horrible taste of sick. But I discovered quickly that the food held together by the bile-slime was often quite recognizable as food. A disgusting slithery lump which I had to chew to be able to swallow had a strong garlicky flavour. It had obviously been a big lump of garlic bread which had been digested whole by Master Eddie, soaked in the bile of his stomach, and then puked up again. Now it was my turn to eat it. Bits of pasta had congealed in Master Eddie’s stomach and had been puked up together - "Eat those congealed-looking bits", ordered Master Chris. I could even taste tomato and feel bits of tomato skin.
In Master Eddie’s shit, everything was reduced to a hard or soft paste of mostly unidentifiable stinking waste. I occasionally picked up a flavour or something only half-digested. On the other hand, in Master Eddie's vomit, while the taste was just as bad as the shit, the worst thing was that I often actually knew what I was eating after Master Eddie had thrown it up. I knew that I was eating bits of food that Master Eddie had eaten an hour or two earlier, before his stomach had rejected it – I could even slightly taste the vodka which presumably had made Master Eddie sick. It was revolting.
They didn’t hurry me! They wanted me to take my time with the shit and the sick. Master Eddie recovered quickly and started taunting me “Are you enjoying your new experiences, criminal slave? Did you like the canings and my shit? What about my puke? I chucked up those bits you're chewing now specially for you, - enjoy them, filthy cunt” and lots of other humiliating comments accompanied by kicks, and always demanding replies - “I am so grateful for your sick, Master Eddie", "Thank you for throwing up these delicious bits of pasta, Master Eddie", "Yes, Master Eddie, I would love to eat your vomit again" ...
I also still had Master Eddie's large turd in my hand. I had held on to it when he was vomiting on me. “Thank you for your delicious turd, Master Eddie”, I was made to say as he instructed me to bite into it.
Master Chris looked on smiling and sometimes laughing, but not saying much. His turn was coming soon.
Somehow, I ate all Master Eddie’s vomit and all his shit. Then I actually cried. I would never escape these horrors. My life of endless punishment, endless toilet duties, endless pain, endless humiliations, lay ahead, and I knew there was no escape.
“The criminal slave's blubbing”, said Master Chris. "It wants more shit”, he added. “And more sick”, said Master Eddie. They kicked me again and they both laughed out loud.
To prepare me for being Master Chris’s toilet, my next 'experience', they untied me from the rim-chair and made me stand by the wall over a drain, facing them. Master Chris tied my collar to a ring on the wall. Master Eddie then calmly picked up an industrial powered pressure hose and switched on a tap. Freezing water hit my face so hard and fast that it pushed my head back against the wall. I lost my balance and thought I might hang by my collar, but they didn't stop for a second. They aimed at my face, neck and chest until they were clean.
Master Chris removed the humbler and let my balls drop down between my legs. then he took the high-pressure hose and aimed it at my balls. He switched the pressure to maximum. My swollen balls banged into each other. I was forced backwards to the wall and my balls bounced repeatedly off the concrete wall. I screamed like never before.
At long last, the jet was switched off and Master Eddie reached for a dirty-looking cloth on a hook on the opposite wall - “No towels for slaves”, said Master Chris - “that thing's for gagging it during its torture”. It'll dry off eventually.
Now it was time for Master Chris to punish me with his shit.
Master Chris gave me a big white bowl and ordered me put it under the rim-chair so he could shit into it. He took off his trousers and boxers completely, revealing a compact ass with a smattering of dark blond hairs and a good size dick and balls. He sat down comfortably on the rim-chair and Master Eddie ordered me to kneel, holding another smaller bowl, in front of Master Chris.
Master Chris wanted a piss before shitting. The smaller bowl in my hands was his piss-bowl. It was a long piss, dark yellow and very smelly. When he was done, Master Chris shook his dick on the side of the bowl to get rid of the last drops. “Drink” came the inevitable order. “All of it”, chimed Master Eddie “and lick the bowl when you’ve finished”. I did it, while the two sadists smirked. It tasted disgusting – I didn’t know how my stomach could take any more of all this, but I knew it would have to. I didn’t have long to think about it. I soon heard a loud fart come from Master Chris, followed by the sound of a great deal of shit landing in the white bowl I’d placed in the toilet for him. Then the stench hit me. It was so overwhelmingly vile that Master Eddie had to move away “Oh fuck, Chris, you’re fucking manky. Your insides are fucking rotten.” Of course, I was the criminal slave, so I had to continue to kneel naked on the concrete floor in front of Master Chris.
I knew that he had just delivered my next meal. Even so, when Master Chris got up and told me to put my head over the bowl and smell it, I nearly passed out.
First, it was toilet-paper duty. I had to lie on my back while Master Chris simply sat down with his stinking unwiped ass right on my face. “Use your tongue – do a perfect job or it’s more ball-caning, filth”. I worked hard, pushing his ass-flesh around with my tongue, penetrating his hole as far as I could go, sucking on his little blond hairs to make sure no shit clung to them, and swallowing until I really believed he was clean. Master Chris got hold of some toilet paper and rubbed hard - “not bad for a beginner – a few specks which mean we’ll add something to your tortures tomorrow”.
“Get my bowl and put it on the floor in front of you.”
As I picked up the bowl, I retched but managed not to vomit. “You’re going to eat every fucking scrap of Master Chris’s shit”, smirked Master Eddie who had now recovered from the initial shock of the stench. “Handcuffs”, said Master Chris and I soon found myself kneeling in front of a big bowl of truly vile shit with my hands secured behind my back. It was obvious how I was going to be forced to eat Master Chris’s shit.
Master Chris fetched a stick. But he didn’t beat me like I expected, at least not yet. He pointed to a piece of his shit which appeared to be poxy with spots. It was light brown and slimy but the hard little spots were dark. “Eat those little pox-spots – they're probably undigested chickpeas covered in some of my worst shit – pick them out with your tongue, teeth and lips – chew them and savour them, criminal slave”.
This kind of thing went on for over an hour. I had to sniff, kiss, lick, savour and chew particular bits of shit, according to Master Chris's instructions. Never mind the vileness of my work. Never mind the total humiliation and the stench. This was detailed degradation - “you’re putting it in its place”, laughed Master Eddie.
There were hard turds I had to chew. There was a terrible black liquid I had to lick up. There were soft gritty turds and some undigested vegetables which I really struggled to keep down, but somehow, thinking of the consequences of puking, I did keep down.
Now there was just one big stinking turd left. “That one’s keeping you company tonight”, said Master Chris.
“We’ve had enough of you for now. You’ll stay in this toilet – with that turd.” Master Eddie attached my handcuffs to a chain low on the wall. Then they left me in that small smelly toilet with a white bowl with a large turd in it. It was my cell for the night. With the handcuffs attached to the wall, I could just about lie down but never get comfortable on the bare cold concrete.
“Torture-time tomorrow”, said Master Eddie as he switched out the light and locked the toilet door, my cell door, for the night. I started to smell Master Chris's disgusting turd ...
