Human Toilet
Ignoring the “Do Not Disturb” sign that hung off the door handle I slid the key card into the slot to which the door responded with a soft chime granting me entrance into Goddess’ hotel room.
A rush of cool air from the AC greeted me as I stepped past the door letting it click softly shut behind me. The large main room was modern and elegant with warm wood paneling edged in stainless steel, the perfectly made king size bed was adorned with a beautiful duvet, its subtle pattern matching the upholstery of guest chairs and throw pillows neatly arranged awaiting the presence of its guest.
Sheer curtains spanned one side of the room, the sun setting behind them filling the space with a warm glow through the floor to ceiling wall that was a window offering a glorious view of the ocean in the distance.
My heart racing, I looked around taking in the little details that hinted at Goddess’ presence. The sliding closet door was partially open allowing a glimpse of her clothing, dresses, blouses, teasingly short skirts along with everyday gym wear. Pairs of high heeled shoes nestled neatly up against practical gym shoes along the bottom waiting to grace her lovely feet.
The neatly made bed could have been done by attentive hotel staff, but I suspected that with the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door it was another submissive who was caring for the cleaning and maintenance of Goddess’ room. I wondered briefly what other services this submissive performed for her before reminding myself I was here to perform my own devotions and service all too soon.
For the past year I have served Goddess as she preferred to be addressed. Through virtual video calls, public blog posts and email exchanges I was under her therapeutic care as she delved into my mind and body from across the ocean her in Australia and me in the US. Goddess helped me to understand, connect with and embrace my very non-vanilla sexual identity.
As I submitted to her care, she was also performing the most intricate psychological modification to my sexuality to better suit her own curiosities and desires. After weeks of careful planning and what seemed like endless logistics, I was to finally meet her in person though our first experience of one another was to be as unique and carefully considered as all interactions with her are.
There would be no walking up to one another, smiles and hugs, awkward first in person conversations or sitting down to a meal to “break the ice” so to speak. No. My first in person experience with Goddess would be to serve as the receptacle of her filth, in other words her human toilet.
When I think of all the planning and considerations even the wording of “human toilet” versus “toilet slave” was given careful thought which was reflected in the contract I had signed to serve her. As much as I desired this most intimate of experiences, I had never done so in real life. And to be considered a “toilet slave” to Goddess requires a degree of commitment and accomplishment I might fail to meet. So, I was accepted to serve as her “human toilet” a lesser expectation, that would allow for some forgiveness should I struggle with my ability to perform.
I realized I was stalling pondering what had led up to this moment and time was slipping by with Goddess expected to return from her dinner in mere minutes.
Turning to my left I pushed open the door to what I assumed would be the bathroom, which proved to be almost as large as the main room. Gleaming white and black tile surfaces highlighted with more stainless steel continued the 5-star modern styling of the hotel. The softest scent of antiseptic filled my nose; likely the result of a thorough cleaning performed by another submissive.
While clearly top notch the dual sinks, wall to wall grooming mirror and toilet were dwarfed by the immense walk-in shower opposite them. Easily large enough for four people this should have been what caused a second look, but it was the floor to ceiling window that was inside the shower itself that was jaw dropping. I could see straight through the shower out to the ocean view and into the other tower of the high-rise hotel resort.
Or perhaps it would be more accurate to consider not the view outside but the view inside that hotel patrons could enjoy. Why limit yourself to ogling bikini and speedo wearing pool goers when you could lounge in your room and peruse guests showering, putting on makeup and using the toilet? The other tower was close enough there would be no need for “peeping tom” binoculars if you had at least average vision.
I could not believe what I was seeing though in truth the real concern was what those in the other tower would soon be seeing. Frantic I looked around at the various wall controls and by the shower door found glowing buttons that had symbols I hoped meant “dim” and “transparent”. A quick tap of one button and a sigh of relief escaped my lips as the huge voyeur’s window dimmed to an opaque white. Feeling a return of some privacy, I saw there was something sitting at one end of the shower which confirmed this was where I was to perform my service.
At one end of the room sized shower sat a portable toilet frame, folding metal legs locked in place to support a simple toilet seat. A bucket was supposed to sit beneath that seat but in Goddess’ world her human and slave toilets served as the bucket as often as possible paying her tribute for the opportunity to consume the gifts of her golden nectar and glistening brown caviar.
Turning away from where I would soon serve as one of those toilets I looked at myself in the large bathroom mirror. I still had my n95 mask on so to most I looked like a tall very obese woman, short black hair styled in a bob haircut, silver dangling earrings with glasses framing a round face.
At 180cm tall I and just over 180 kilos with a bulging belly and immense breasts to match both highlighted by a tight white blouse followed by a basic black skirt decorated with a flowery design that fell to my ankles and stretched around my torso and massive buttocks. Simple black leather high heels adorned my feet with the edges of my stockings disappearing up my legs and under the flowing skirt.
Outwardly a woman but underneath my mask was a goatee and the breasts that were almost as large as my head were silicone breast forms. Though beneath them the sagging fat of my chest was somewhat breast like in a grotesque parody of a woman’s real breasts. And the genitals beneath my panties were those of a man though tiny and dysfunctional.
For all the details we had worked out I didn’t know whether I should remain clothed for Goddess or if I should be naked. With time fast running out I decided to stay dressed. Turning away from looking at myself in the mirror, I opened the glass door to the shower and stepped inside. Like everything in the bathroom, it was pristine and felt like stepping onto a stage with the lone prop the toilet seat and the opaque window a curtain waiting to rise on an event to be performed while witnessed by an anonymous audience.
Standing in front of the toilet seat I carefully lowered myself to the tiled floor, stretching out and turning over onto my back feeling the chill of the shower tiles through my clothing as I slid myself backwards until I was looking upwards through the toilet seat at the matching tile ceiling and various shower fixtures above me. I settled myself, making sure my skirt was arranged over my legs, pulling down on my blouse so it was not riding up. Laying on my back my immense breasts thrust upwards such that I could not see past them though if I did all I would see was the bulge of my mountainous belly.
Taking slow deep breaths, I tried to calm myself which was when I realized I was still wearing my n95 mask and almost started laughing. I certainly wouldn’t be able to serve Goddess with a mask on. I reached up between the metal legs of the toilet frame to slide the mask over my head careful not to snag on my wig. Unsure where to place it I settled with resting it to the side of the toilet before returning my arms to my sides.
I’m not sure how long I lay there before I heard the soft chime and click of the hotel room door opening followed by the voices of several women talking with one another. The last thing I expected to hear was a group of people talking. This meant Goddess had brought friends with her, perhaps her dinner guests.
Did she mean to have an audience while she used me? Would they wait outside? Knowing Goddess, she wanted an audience which filled me with a rush of emotions and set my heart pounding again. Goddess knew me well; she knew humiliation and degradation in front of others, especially strangers would challenge me immensely but was also something I craved deeply even as I feared it to my core.
The voices came into the bathroom paired with the clicking of high heels as the women came in to inspect Goddess’ waiting toilet.
“I didn’t realize your toilet was a woman.” from a woman’s voice I didn’t recognize.
Another woman’s voice chimed in, “No he has a goatee, I can just see it through the toilet seat.”
“Matthew is something in between. They do have a tiny penis which can still squirt seed but doesn’t get erect and they no longer have any desire for penetration. No, Matthew is the kind of filthy slut that wants to be used and abused by women like us.” said a voice I recognized with relief as that of Goddess.
“Hello my slut. We meet in person at last! I am so pleased Matthew! You can open your eyes silly, turn your head so you can see your audience for this evening’s service.”
