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Box Snuff Again - Meet me if you like it.
The ideal player arrived one day and put me through hell. It never started innocently because my profile mentions snuff play. The promise was I’d enjoy it, or learn to and my darkest desires may or may not be completely realised. The condition was I was to consent and I may not be certain of the end result or indeed how many scenes I would endure. They would however, largely only consist of things I’d described, even in passing.

Frustrated, horny and bored, I said yes.

It was left this way - I heard nothing for a long time. Meanwhile I met a few other people to play, more innocently and simply. Then he turned up. I’ll omit his description, many of his acts may be criminal and whilst I’m in no position to press charges, I wish nothing to happen to him.

The first thing we tried was him being put into my box for a while, he came as a versatile player and my good manners says guests go first. He wore my mitts, was cabletied carefully into my roofbox and the air mask tied to his face for a while.

Once I was sure he was safe, I clamped the lid up, added some straps and left him to stew. A continence pad was provided, namely because I would go in next and didn’t fancy cleanup. The time requested was 2 hours only. He seemed to ride it out just fine and was calm and hard when I released him.

Next he was to fit into a surfboard bag and stay in the casket for a time. This is harder, there is no airway. But he wanted to be breathing hard before release. Here I left him with a baby monitor and let him out after just three quarters of an hour. 

Next time he came, he wanted to seal me into the roof box and test me. I’d requested 2 hours, but preferred less internal restraints first time out. I merely had my home build mouth filling gag tied in and my mitted hands attached to the head of the box. With care I could get at the air mask, but it wasn’t too easy. The box slowly clamped down - I worried because its incredibly hard to lever open and impossible to do so quickly. However I was stuck now.

I’d left out 6 x 4 meter new endless 4 tonne 50mm ratchet straps for the box alone with a larger selection of industrial straps. These would be more for his benefit in getting photos because with my hands trapped and no tools, getting out of the box is impossible anyway. However, being a trucker and a secret sadist, the straps added menace and possibilities. The latter I hadn’t realised. 

A heat gun provided some entertainment as he decided to work on my original theme of moulding the rim of the box to form hooks to clamp the lid down. Only he didn’t do that. He simply sealed the lid right under and fully plastic welded the halves together. By the time he was done, only one airway existed. No air could escape in any other direction. 

A few minutes of jacking and levering allowed him to slide many straps down the length and width of the box, the retainers I’d moulded on gave the straps something to grip rather than sliding off. By the time he was done, an hour later, I was gasping a bit and the box was barely visible beneath the extreme strapping. I could feel the rigidity of the plastic under the opposing forces of all the straps and started to worry. More movement and rattling of chains. The box was being chain wrapped and padlocked, multiple layers.

I couldn’t yell. I could just kick a little, though a retaining strap at the feet made these kicks light at best. I was being stored, permanently, though not, as yet, suffocated.

Through the hose I could hear tearing noises-i’ve a roll of pallet wrap and I could hear it being wrapped carefully over the chains and straps. This went on and on, with scary moments where my airway would block up for minutes at a time.

Cramp and tiredness set in, my jaw burning in pain, my gag was not meant for long term, but long term is what i am getting. It must have been three or four hours before the wrapping stopped. Soon the noise of the heat gun started again. He was shrinking the wrapping, as if to ensure a very completely seal.

At this point I knew, I’d met the guy who’d promised uncertainty, who was fascinated by my idea of snuff in a box.

Because, the sealing in would take hours to undo, and I could die waiting. My connection to the air wasn’t that good and it is hit and miss whether its oxygen or lack of water that will finish me.

I feel the box move and is loaded into a van. My storage is not yet finished.
The Tank Turds


"Ok Joe, we’re gonna stuff you..its your turn"

I grin, and lay back on the warm metal floor of the tank as my crew strip down their fatigues and prepare to fire.
This is a horny ass ritual we play out at the end of a successful exercise, just because we can. Lucky fuckers we are

All four of us love a good man eating session, and get on real well. I’m Joe, their Sarge. We’ve a Mick, a Kev and a Gyppo.

Despite their names only ones a gyppo in his previous life, skinny and a bit rough with it. Kev is a big fucker, bright red hair, a real celt. Betcha didn’t know they be ginger all over did you? Nor did I till I joined this horny fucked up crew. Mick, well he be an Irish lad, raven hair…real tank with it. The same hieght as Gyppo (yeah we calls him that) only he be the width of two Gyppos. As for me, well…ain’t I the token black guy or what? Had to be done. Actually it’s just fate, such a variety of guys and all such shithead tank turds.

Hell that’s what a few of the other soldiers call us. They don’t know the truth, it’s just army piss taking. Little do they know.

I open up my mouth as the designated eater of the day and prepare to receive a load. First up, Gyppo ..now this guy, well I don’t know what he does different but its always a hot challenge to get it down. Liquid and lumpy…man, they always near enough shoot their load as the poor eater gags his loads down. Today was no different.

"Strewth Gyppo you filthy fucker..what the hell kinda ratcrap are you eating man?" I gasp…stomach roiling to accept the the load.

"Yer a soft fukkah yer know Sarge, you knows I have the shits everytime we have an exercise, I reckon its me constitution or somefin’…" He says smirking his fucking head off. He knows full well the worse it is for me, the more I need it. He’s now different. That’s whats hot about us boys here, none of us is better’n the other. We all needs the filth…the worse the better. Addicts is what you’d call us.

"Yeah, dirty little shit..get on wid yah" I reply.

I look for my next meal. Today they flip a coin. They both have a couple of days worth saved up. Gyppo can’t do that for all sorts of horrid reasons, but Mick and Kev are perfectly capable of keeping it a week if they’re feeling like a bit of sport. Today I already know they had a curry eating contest 2 nights ago. I’m in for it tonight.

Did I mention that? Yeah, we erm play silly fuckers with our food. We try to find combinations that produce the worst shit. As none of us like rabbit droppings, we take care to eat plenty. Beer and vodka work well on leave. However on exercises etc we can’t get away with that.

Kev wins the toss up and lays off pulling his pud a minute. Lovely specimen of ginger prick that one. Only 6 inches or less, but the girth…well it doesn’t go in my mouth without some serious effort. That’s a fat prick right there.

"So boyo, you be ready for this then? I saved this good for you…I hope you ‘preciate my efforts as that frikkin’ curry was a real ringstinger…I can tell" He says, grinning down at me.

I lick my lips at him and say “Do your worst, orangutan”.

He does. Pressed tight to my mouth he proves once again he’s the best at control and keeps his promises. First off a slow long stinking slimy log pushes its way down to the back of my throat. With practiced ease I’m able to quickly chow down chunks and slip them quickly into my stomach coating my throat with spicy shit slime. Soon however the easy stuff is packed away and the sloppier mess starts. Now this is real rancid. Burns like fuck. Damn he didn’t lie about the fucking curries. Christ, my eyes water and I cough some up my nose. Fuck that’s hot and fucking horny. Dirty little bastard shoots on my cock at my reactions. He loves to make a guy gag and choke. Sadistic shit.

Somehow I get it all down and find that I’m hard as a rock. The veins make my cock look like a carving by Michealangelo or some other artistic bloke. Proper nice. It takes me a minute to calm my sinuses down enough for Mick to take his place.

"I’ve saved you something special Sarge" He informs me.."Liver and onions, chilli and lots of beer last night. The night before, I won that curry contest"

Oh crap…another ring stinger. This time with onions. They come out the other end often intact…did you know that? We all do. We know exactly what comes out unchanged. Corn don’t digest, niether do peas. When you eat as much shit as we do…you become scatologists real fast. You soon learn how to give the other guy the shits too. We’ve done that before now.

I lie back, heart pounding, stomach churning and the sweat pouring off me. The spices in the previous load was potent indeed.

Mick likes to do things real particular. He squats and fires. After he’s been, clean up takes a wee while. Pressing down tightly to start with, he shits hard, deep and fast.. knowing whats to come I’m prepared. Even so I can only get half of his vile log down before he moves up slightly and proceeded to explode the vilest diarrhea any of us have encountered all over my face and nose. Swallowing fast, I’m able to get at least a couple of mouthfuls before he finishes completely.

We’re nearly done now…all that remains is a real dog treat. Licking each others asses clean takes a long time to do properly. I’ll camp overnight in the tank and clean up in the morning. The others…well they’ll jerk off over me tonight and having had a final piss, will sleep in the tent. Next week its the Gyppo’s turn. Boy am I going to get him good.

It’s real hard work doing what we do.

Shame there ain’t more to share our shitty burden.

I wonder if the garage crew ever notice our particular tank smells a bit funny?

The Box, deep, serious confinement..

Gasping, I struggle, choking, heart pounding, stifled scream dying in the thick plastic molded gag, I am unable to move. The heat presses into me, the scalding black plastic lid strapped so tight I can’t get away from it.

The panic starts, the oxygen is too low, imprisonment too severe, finally my limit found, I quit.

I quit I say..but the safe word? There isn’t one.

There isn’t anyone to hear me, the box has been abandoned. This time, quite for real. The success of the online stories has been total. A standard sort of top, somehow, got a bit retrained, hypno’d into becoming carried away. He went too far, exactly as the story suggested. The emotions laden within the prose, dug into his brain and his dick arose:dripping.

This happened not once. It happened many times. The structure of the story anticipated losing interest then gaining it again, it anticipated the questioning, self questioning that the guy would have and answered every objection. As the voice in the story becomes the voice in your head, the voice became and become insidious, creepy, horny, suggestive and illusionary yet real; as you read do you know if this is you now being spoken to or is it just more story, the fractal nature of the story, oblique and twisty cannot possibly now suggest that the power you need, the recognition you crave comes only when a guy wants YOU now to take control, steal his consent, deliberately push his boundaries, too hard, too deep.

As time goes on, the story changes, wandering turning, tapping into notions you’ve had before, this guy being strapped, bound, mummified and even plumbed. Materials and ideas flow as they’ve never flowed before…fibreglassing, encasement, steel and more; your intelligence becoming flexible and applied as you realise just how many ways you can bring this fantasy to life and make it incredible tough, hard and horny.

Kidnapping is crime; unless there is a way to prove consent-this is something you didn’t know and now do and wander wtf is happening in this story..when are we getting to some action? Who’s suffering..why? What are you expecting of me?

The box is black, its glossy, in the sun it’s hot..too hot. Cooking hot. The straps times 4, take 2500lb each are 24 foot long…and are not enough. Not really. They’re provided, they might just be able to hold the lid down on a panicking prisoner, but really, the inner strapping and mummification should be done better. Of course, there are locks to the box…locks that can be resin sealed shut. Should be enough to keep someone stuck, even if they are free to move. But be certain, the bolts are plastic, the plastic can snap..paranoia sneaks in..

You don’t want ANY chance of escape, patience grows, cunning grows..indignation soon follows…manipulation is dared? Does he really think this won’t be done? Soon, plotting starts, the details, the method, the wanking over the method and details, until your so horny that just the mention of duct taping me up in the box at all makes you go all hot and horny.

The story goes on, the box is in the desert, the prisoner is cooking, heatstroke will probably beat thirst; either and both means a final act of bondage, discomfort as you read kicks in, the extreme nature is too much..soon you won’t have a choice, you give in, knowing that the psychotic writer is playing games, daring, approach avoid conflict…it’s just a net wank. You know it’s a way of getting off.

Isn’t it?
Later you consider, the prisoner cannot get out of the box, even if you lift the lid. You feel more and more that you want this to be a certain reality, make youself take yourself into the place where you must feel that you can turn it easily, now, all equipment provided, into a reality. Unaware this tale was written during heat stroke, you don’t know until now that I was not writing in a normal state of mind, you suddenly realise that you gain much more than you lose by considering how to induce this need in the writer and making him actually turn into a thing that happens.

You don’t care, you got a dare, you think you can, I say you can’t-it won’t turn you on enough, no words will change that, you don’t get deeply aroused now by such detached, mechanical device bondage…or even finding a way to plumb it into worse…

The act of filthy creativity, joining two things together, this diversion puzzles you, the disjointed flow frustrates you, uncertain whether you can get your rocks off in this prose, consider the porta jon, the type of toilet that an enterprising clever man can easily attach a prisoner in a black roof box too. You want to turn him until a construction toilet…want to know that the guy is swallowing massive loads of diarreah, you want the guy to be encased…swallowing what he should not be swallowing. As you read…a fetish, an idea you didn’t have before, now whispers in your ear, making you hard, making you need to cum…as you cum, you need to be the guy to force the writer into the box, making the confinement as deep and encompassing as you can…after all he provided ALL the equipment.

Don’t consider this as anything more than an idea, a play on ideas that I thought about, when I in real life, spent an hour being broiled alive, in the sun, in this box…desperately gagging for the top who would try to take it a bit too far to be there, pulling tight ALL the ratchet straps as hard as he can.

Even older scat Slave story

I was placed into the machine and various attachments were fixed into place. By the time he was finished I was convinced that he had decided to do all the above and leave me in place permanently. He was talking as he fixed things to my body. He had gotten this machine built gradually through various bio companies. It would also do one job he hadn’t mentioned. It could keep someone alive for as long as he wanted, when he had two more he was going to experiment with selling permanent toilet slaves. I shivered in the leather and steel embrace of this spooky machine.

He closed the lid and I felt the leather padding start to compress my body.  Firstly my waist felt corseted then the rest followed suit until I couldn’t move any muscle in my body whatsoever.  There was contact attachments placed into my eyes and ear plugs inserted.  I felt needles piercing multiple places on my body and soon realised I was being drugged in some way. I felt lightheaded, euphoric and well stoned. I was soon floating away hardly aware of the intense bondage I was being put through.  My mouth clamp was opened by the machine and I could just about feel through the drugged haze one of the pedestals being mounted the fitting that connected my clamp to the opening on the capsule.

In my ears I could hear whispers but I couldn’t distinguish what was being said. I felt my cock being pulled into some kind of leathery sheath which started to inflate and stroke.  I grew really hard again and felt like I was nearly coming until some kind of strapping was automatically tightened around the base of my cock and both balls separately.  The urge to come was stymied for the moment.

Weight settled above me, I couldn’t see of course. It was horny actually not knowing or even smelling what was going to happen next.  Thought I found out I was wrong about the smelling part mind. My breathing tubes extend out and I could smell that they had been inserted into the toilet bowel.  The smell got stronger, and the voices seemed more insistent.  The dosage of the drugs must have increased as I got more and more stoned and feeling at peace.  Finally I felt the weight of shit fill my mouth. It had hit hard and I felt for a second I was going to choke.  The taste was strong and rank, the texture was chewy as I struggled to swallow.  Halfway through I was forced to come in complete explosions.  The strangest thing was that even though I was coming I felt even more the urge to come again and eat more of the filth.   I felt Tony move off the pedestal then I felt a huge plug start to enter my mouth. There was still a lot of the shit left though and again I started to gag a little.  Eventually I choked the lot down feeling satisfied and full with it.  The plug was too big really and I soon had cramp in my jaws from trying to contain it.  But the choices were not there was no relief.  The whispering stopped as I heard Tony’s voice through the earplugs. 
He was explaining the me that I was actually a day early for the party-he’d forgotten.  So instead for the next 6-8 hours I was to stimulated with drugs that made time feel like it was going very slowly whilst having both my mouth and arse severely stretched.  He’d decided I would do as a permanent addition to his house.  The only thing he couldn’t decide was how long to keep me as a toilet or whether to make me eat up horse shit outside as well as other nasty tasks.  Also he had a perfect idea for stretching my stomach and bowels.  A lot of liquified waste would be pumped in both ends-the plug in my mouth could squirt it directly down my throat, though it would also shrink so that my mouth got filled with the liquid shit.  He’d decided that he would go all the way with me as soon as he could.

That started to make sense now. He would not have told me his rather more nasty plans unless he had already made his choice. I had made mine now and I was stuck.  There was to be more and more of this.  He held frequent parties and there was a lot of workers etc on his farm all into scat etc.  Whilst he was talking he had made up his mind as to my fate for the next few weeks.  Leaving me locked in the capsule he was going to program it for the most intense and extreme mind control, toilet training and body modification. Afterwards I would sleep in there mainly and spend frequent days inside being used to digest horse shit and every other type of shit that was available.  I would also be trained to voluntarily eat shit out of horse’s arses.

Later on that evening I was taken downstairs to a cellar. In there was a special pod, it was a sexy looking device with the shape appearing to have been partially inspired by speedboats and cars. It lifted like a clamshell, inside the surface was black leather body shaped. Tony demonstrated that the leather could inflate to fill all the free space between me and the surface.  It could also be made to inflate and fill various orifices.  It had lots of additional attachments, dildos and plugs, intravenous drip and some other electronic stuff.  He explained that the machine was designed to be used in brainwashing slaves.  There were drugs, subliminal programming and other methods used to train a slave into being addicted to any kind of sex whatsoever. This was exciting to me, it sounded just like something I would enjoy immensely.
 
At the head end there was an opening, apparently there was various types of pedestals and plugs that filled the pedestals.  I was told some guys wanted to be licked clean and others wanted to drop their shit in my mouth from a distance.  There was also the open to fill the bowl after a large dump with an enforcer plug that pushed slowly down filling into the back of the throat. This nasty device was for the guys if they wished to slowly force the shit down my throat. He shocked me with one nasty idea; he said that one of the monthly slaves was going to be offered the chance to be a life slave here. This would mean body modification of all kinds.  Mainly altering the anus by stretching to accommodate any kind of dildo or cock, also there was biological stuff they could do to make the arse feel more sexual excitement just like a clitoris; it was to do with wiring the tissues to new nerves connected to pleasure centers in the brain.  Also the mouth would be altered into having removable teeth to allow bigger objects to be thrust into the mouth. 

Finally the ultimate change was in the digestive system of the victim.  This last was only going to be used as a punishment entirely. Basically the system would be altered to digest fully the contents of other people’s bowels and extract everything needed from it.  This would ensure that even if the slave was released he would never stop eating shit.  This was seriously spooky and nasty mind control.  I had never heard anything so sadistic in BDSM before.

For tonight I was going to be encased in this machine and though only two hours was enough to guarantee a strong scat fetish I was to be given a far longer treatment.  Depending on how my body responded to the change other things might be done.  All automatic of course, one thing he was going to do was modify my penis, making it larger and far more sensitive. This was scary but with the clamp in my mouth shut tight round a dirty rubber gag I couldn’t make any comment on this.
I was placed into the machine and various attachments were fixed into place. By the time he was finished I was convinced that he had decided to do all the above and leave me in place permanently. He was talking as he fixed things to my body. He had gotten this machine built gradually through various bio companies. It would also do one job he hadn’t mentioned. It could keep someone alive for as long as he wanted, when he had two more he was going to experiment with selling permanent toilet slaves. I shivered in the leather and steel embrace of this spooky machine.

He closed the lid and I felt the leather padding start to compress my body.  Firstly my waist felt corseted then the rest followed suit until I couldn’t move any muscle in my body whatsoever.  There was contact attachments placed into my eyes and ear plugs inserted.  I felt needles piercing multiple places on my body and soon realised I was being drugged in some way. I felt lightheaded, euphoric and well stoned. I was soon floating away hardly aware of the intense bondage I was being put through.  My mouth clamp was opened by the machine and I could just about feel through the drugged haze one of the pedestals being mounted the fitting that connected my clamp to the opening on the capsule.

In my ears I could hear whispers but I couldn’t distinguish what was being said. I felt my cock being pulled into some kind of leathery sheath which started to inflate and stroke.  I grew really hard again and felt like I was nearly coming until some kind of strapping was automatically tightened around the base of my cock and both balls separately.  The urge to come was stymied for the moment.

Weight settled above me, I couldn’t see of course. It was horny actually not knowing or even smelling what was going to happen next.  Thought I found out I was wrong about the smelling part mind. My breathing tubes extend out and I could smell that they had been inserted into the toilet bowel.  The smell got stronger, and the voices seemed more insistent.  The dosage of the drugs must have increased as I got more and more stoned and feeling at peace.  Finally I felt the weight of shit fill my mouth. It had hit hard and I felt for a second I was going to choke.  The taste was strong and rank, the texture was chewy as I struggled to swallow.  Halfway through I was forced to come in complete explosions.  The strangest thing was that even though I was coming I felt even more the urge to come again and eat more of the filth.   I felt Tony move off the pedestal then I felt a huge plug start to enter my mouth. There was still a lot of the shit left though and again I started to gag a little.  Eventually I choked the lot down feeling satisfied and full with it.  The plug was too big really and I soon had cramp in my jaws from trying to contain it.  But the choices were not there was no relief.  The whispering stopped as I heard Tony’s voice through the earplugs. 
He was explaining the me that I was actually a day early for the party-he’d forgotten.  So instead for the next 6-8 hours I was to stimulated with drugs that made time feel like it was going very slowly whilst having both my mouth and arse severely stretched.  He’d decided I would do as a permanent addition to his house.  The only thing he couldn’t decide was how long to keep me as a toilet or whether to make me eat up horse shit outside as well as other nasty tasks.  Also he had a perfect idea for stretching my stomach and bowels.  A lot of liquified waste would be pumped in both ends-the plug in my mouth could squirt it directly down my throat, though it would also shrink so that my mouth got filled with the liquid shit.  He’d decided that he would go all the way with me as soon as he could.

 That started to make sense now. He would not have told me his rather more nasty plans unless he had already made his choice. I had made mine now and I was stuck.  There was to be more and more of this.  He held frequent parties and there was a lot of workers etc on his farm all into scat etc.  Whilst he was talking he had made up his mind as to my fate for the next few weeks.  Leaving me locked in the capsule he was going to program it for the most intense and extreme mind control, toilet training and body modification. Afterwards I would sleep in there mainly and spend frequent days inside being used to digest horse shit and every other type of shit that was available.  I would also be trained to voluntarily eat shit out of horse’s arses. This last sounded pretty horrible really it’s one thing to be tied and forced into doing it to be made to do it just like that was pretty horrid sounding.

Another Description

The forcefeeding pit- A description.

 

Firstly you have a cylinder shaped hole (oubliette style) that is only just a few inches wider than your victim and a foot tall.

Next you have a welded thick steel bodycage that locks on nearly every moveable joint up to the chest.

A large hollowed out bulbous deep steel dildo is locked deep inside the victim

This maybe connected to an external hose, giving complete flexibility as to what to do with it later on. The end fits to an attachment on the side

of the hole at the right height.

The steel cage locks into very heavy one time locks at the base of hole. Concrete up to the knees is added.

the hole is lipped and shaped so that two further restraints can be added.

Firstly a thick heavy steel tube that squashes the victim further is pushed into the hole and using appropriate 6 foot bolts

screwed into the now set concrete and through to the original steel base. Precision is important here to match up to the buried threads in the floor.

The head , neck and a little of the shoulders is still free at this point.

 

You’ve already encased his cock in one of a dozen variations of stimulater or even a bull sperm extractor.

Either way you are set to give his cock and arse deep pleasure or serious pain.

 

Hopefully you’ve got your victim conscious and panicking a little.

The last site he’s going to get of the world is when you pick up the specially designed steel head cover.

Partially resembling an ancient diving helmet, this is a solid heavy steel device that clamps down over the head and spreads down onto the free space left by the

steel sleeve via a flange. However when set on the head it actually plugs the entire top of the hole and has dozens of thick bolt holes to match the steel sleeve your victim’s head and neck are sticking out of.

This helmet can be coloured anyway you like, though if you really want to make it permenant, you bury it in reinforced concrete.

 

There are two main varieties of said helmet. One is only slightly less confining because it’s solid and slips over the head without adjustment.

The other, the proper one, splits and is mated back together via thick bolts and a gasket seal. This version is also designed to apply pressure to the head and throat.

This pressure is adjustable, and a real sadist would make sure he can get to the adjuster bolts even when the floor is sealed off.

 

Various arrangements of feeding tubes are possible, though the simplest clamps and forces the mouth open, and seals to it. A variation would force a big plug down the throat with strainer holes to force the victim to taste what passes through it.

An adaptation allowing both arrangements maybe possible. Nasal tubes connected to the outside are essential as you need your victim to smell what he is force fed.

 

Various bowls, funnels and toilets are available to be connected to your now permenent personal sewer.

The best ones are “dry” or flush with prearranged mixtures.

Suggested mixtures are aged concentrated piss (anything from a week to 6 months aged works well).

Multiconnections are a strong recommendation along with constant pleasure training. This is done with a simple pressure pad that will turn him on when you sit on the toilet. The pad can switch to pain, or pain and pleasure. Set to computerised random to drive him insane. Ear inserts can be used for psychological torture as can IV inserts for drug abuse. Used with care, you can turn any man into a shit addicted filth freak.

Claustrophobia is also worth encouraging if possible, combined with intense pleasure and deep filth.

 

Needless to say once your victim is in this position he can be fed exactly how you please. This is the time to indulge in your nastiest ideas. Nanotech may be available soon to keep victims healthy for a long long time. At that point worse treatment for pleasure may be possible. Motor oil, puke, aged cess contents, farm waste, liquified sewage specially gathered and of course mountains of fresh shit all qualify. 

Cold steel, Vile Shit-The Lid

The dare-describing a 7 foot deep dog shit bin that one luckless victim is “dared” to climb into…and gets locked into overnight. 

Originally…I didn’t know it was a dogshit bin..he’d been staying with some friends. They were kinky but he wasn’t part of that. I just liked having an easy cheap place to stay for a while. They kept a lot of dogs and a vietnamese pot bellied pig called Maisy. Unusual combination that would have made for a messy yard. However, the grounds were spotless. Unusually so.

I’d seen the unusual thick iron lid in the ground one morning whilst walking in the garden. Old fashioned cast, circular and about two foot across it was clamped down with a dozen large bolts supplemented as well as being padlocked and bolted shut. There were a few ventholes in the top. If it wasn’t for the locks I’d have assumed it was simply an inspection hatch or similar. The securing of the thing was puzzling.

That evening whilst having a drink with the other guys I was staying with Iasked them about it. Their explanation didn’t clarify that much. It was used in some sort of game or dare scenario.

It was a game they setup time ago on a drunken night. They’d pickup a guy at a leather bar and make him a bet. The bet was simple. $10000 says that he wouldn’t put a blindfold on, and a mouth gag and climb into their pit. The deal was before taking the bet, the mark would get to look at the lid of the pit first before deciding. Every guy so far had chickened out. Part of the bet was they’d have to stay in there for at least an hour and be fully secured in place. Not knowing what they’d find inside they couldn’t bear the idea of doing that blindfold. The mouthclamp addition didn’t make sense to all but the kinkiest of blokes.

I admit my curiousity was sparked, and the idea of winning $10,000 for a simple bet had it’s own appeal. I’m not wealthy and don’t have a car even.

I thought about the dare over the night. It was kinky, though I’m mildly claustrophobic, I could see myself getting over that to win enough money to live without working for a while. I live cheap you see. However, the idea of putting on a blindfold and jaw restraint made me nervous. I’d known my housemates only a couple of months and no-one else knew I was here. Yet, I couldn’t see any reason not to trust them. We’d had beer enough times together.

The following day, the idea of the money kept returning and I wandered out to the lid again. It was intimidating now to look at it, knowing that it was my somewhat scary ticket to ten big ones. I looked at the boltheads, heavy machinary type things, about a dozen of them. The padlock was an oversized high security one, kept oiled to protect it from the damp.

I shivered at the thought. The cold iron reminiscient of medieval torture crossed with victorian steam engineering. Just an image that came to my mind. You could easily hold a man in there for any length of time.

I made up my mind however…the challenge was too tempting. The cash was mine, all I had to do was take the dare.

I went to my housemates and said I’d take the dare. They looked at me, a hungry look in their eyes. “are you sure?” they said…

I was. Two of them went outside with an oversized spanner and keys to unlock the lid. One stayed and showed me what I had to wear. Firstly a steel belt with manacles was to be fitted. They never mentioned this, however I wouldn’t back down. The cold steel was tight fitting and held my arms rigid to my sides.

At this point I wondered, how would they get me in there? I’d made the assumption that I would fit. As it turned out, I hadn’t realised just how well!

I was blindfolded with a tight leather band with pads and then asked to open wide. This was the puzzling item, however to win my money, I’d have to go with it. I could feel metal being fitted over my teeth and then my jaw clamped apart. My mouth was held wide open. Too wide almost. My jaw muscles cramped up somewhat.

I’d been stripped prior to putting on the belt and was now led naked, presumably to the pit. A peg was fitted to my nose before we got there. As a result, I went quietly. I would have backed down if I’d known what was to happen next.

I was lifted up and lowered into the pit. My feet touched something cold and slimy which got rapidly warmer as I was dropped down. I began to panic then realising the pit was full of something nasty…with my mouth open I’d soon find out what.

The peg was taken off..the smell hit me just as I was dropped the last foot. Imagine a smell so vile that you puke before you even know what it is and then imagine it concentrated into one place with little or no ventilation. I’d been dropped right into the source of that smell..and it was filling my mouth rapidly. Now I realised what the belt was for. The sides of the pit were close enough to keep me upright and prevent much movement.

However the belt guaranteed that I could not protect my mouth either. I was gaggin and crying, unable to moan as I was effectively silenced by the filth. I looked up and saw three grinning faces.

They explained what the filth was and I went white. I couldn’t believe they’d do that. Whilst I could barely hear them, I got the gist of it. The garden was so clean because they collected everything carefully from their pig and their dogs…and filled this pit with it. I was standing on a block that made sure I was precisely the right height to not suffocate. That was my only guarantee.

Not telling me when I’d be let out, they very slowly closed the lid. Even without sealing it, I couldn’t get out. However, not content with that, I could hear them bolting it back into place. I was stuck for the night.
You ever have that feeling of time stretching out, like the queue at the bank or how long it takes to find somewhere to piss when you are stuck in traffic? This was worse.

Pitch black, nose burning and dripples of rotten mixed filth sliding down my throat making me gag. I’d gotten into a rhythm now..breath, breath, retch, choke, choke, retch and finally deep wheezing breathes again. I was scared now that I would actually drown. There were no safeguards nor indeed safewords.

The sounds of bolts being screwed into place seemed pretty final to me. The only blessing was the liquified crap supported much of my weight so I didn’t hurt much from standing. I daren’t move to relieve any stiffness in case I went under and clogged up my nose.

What the hell I was thinking I don’t know-I could die here and there was no way to get help.

Hours later my stomach cramps had also settled into a rhythm..the cramps would start near me chest and make their way into the depths of my own bowls. I could tell by the sting in my ass when I was contributing my own to the mess I was trapped in. When I found myself wondering how long it would take for my own to return to me…I realised I was on the edge of insanity.

Pitch black, suffocating stench..I hurt now, hurt from ingesting so much shit, my eyes hurt from the tears, my nose hurts from my breathing in so hard…and my mouth..I don’t think will ever close again…time stops here…stops dead…all there is, is the filth that creeps like a disgusting slimy living thing down my throat…the cramp in my jaw was now simply pure white agony…a detached agony that didn’t seem mine any longer..

…..

The white pain eventually turned to numbness. I found myself detaching, sensing myself as if outside in the blackness somewhere..noting in a detached way the filth I was trapped in. Is this what psychosis is like? Had I gone now over the edge? I’d heard the mind protects itself this way…

A noise snaps me back inside myself…my awareness returns and I realise my rhythm of agonised breathing and choking had kept going the whole time. Only now my retching was much weakened and I was swallowing much more shit now..I let it go…I’d taken so much it didn’t matter.

The noise continued…the bolts were being undone? Relief flooded through me even though time stretched further yet as the bolts took forever to take off. Finally after a lifetime…the thick iron lid was lifted and I looked up at a bunch of guys with big grins on their faces…

"We hope you are enjoying it in there…" One said "You’ve given us a right turn on…getting in there with that filth, us knowing you must be having to eat it.."

I looked at him, anxious that they let me out, but unable to speak. My neck cramped trying to keep him in view..

"However, as much fun as this is, letting you go is going to cost us. I’ve a better idea…I’ve come up with a plan. You’ll like this one…ok you wont but you will be providing all of us with wankoff material for the remainder of your life. I want to see how long someone can live in that pit. Your it." As he said this, another steel object was brought over.

This looked like a helmet stuck to a thick disk of steel. It split into two halves. The helmet had a huge funnel that was nearly as wide as the pit I was in. This funnel was curved and sits over it like an umbrella. There were various clamps, bolt and other adjustments on it.

This wasn’t going to be nice. I could see what was to happen. The sides of the pit I could see had matching bolt holes, latch clamps and a rim. The thing would fit down into this, pressing down onto me. Too late I noticed the multiple pipes that feed into the pit above me. They would feed the funnel.

The funnel would feed me.

I started to retch and choke..trying to find a way to scream out to them as I realised what exactly was to happen.

They showed me their tools-in particular an angle grinder and welder. Words were not needed. They still needed the pit, so they were making me the pit.This was to be long drawn out murder. I would die in the pit.

I wriggled my head the best I could, and succeeded in bashing it painfully as the rear half was lowered behind me and fixed into place.

I heard them fixing it down and felt the weight as it pressed onto my shoulders. The front half was lowered and worked tightly to my face, too tight. Then I found out how the funnel was to work. It fitted neatly to my clamped open jaws thus ensuring a way to feed me fresh filth.

There were eye holes for some reason, this became clear. I could see the bolt heads in front of me in the dim light. Once they were tightened down they began to angle grind them. Rounding them off-my insides clenched and I realised with a panic..this was NOT a prank.

The bolts were wet, and slightly rusty, however they were huge. Someone told me they’d been dipped in piss-the salt water action would ensure they’d seize in place. The angle grinding turned them into smooth domed unmovable heads.

A cover was fixed and bolted over my eyes once this was complete and again I was in darkness and pain….

I heard the lid come down..more bolts…endless bolts…ratching tighter and tighter…the screwing never stopped…and then..the final sign…the angle grinder came on again.

By this time my head was pounding with absolute fear…this time, I knew I’d no hope. I’d got myself into a right shithole…and I wasn’t getting out. My mouth started to fill with almost acid tasting filth…the rich stench overpowered the ripe smell in the pit. My first funnel feeding..this time however it wouldn’t be creeping down my throat.

The weight in the funnel would see to that…

Filth Machine

I didn’t plan to find myself mounted on these huge steel penisis that were able to pump filth into me, yet when I saw the device that was to become my permenent home..we had to worship it. Something happened to me as I saw it..and smelt it…some mad sculptur had made this to impale me, imprison me, fill me, fuck me deeply. When I first heard of this machine, that would take over my body, mind and soul, believed not the teller of the tale…it wasn’t possible and I thought it a lie. However ego be forever my downfall, as I was challenged to be locked in the room only with the device, stay there for a night…and I would be bet ten thousand pounds if I was able to walk out two hours later..

This I could not turn down, for what man would believe a machine could take over his mind and body this way? Not I for sure…yet caution I wish I’d had..for now, I know how wrong I was as the large bulbous shafts expand once again and begin again to pressure fill me..I taste foul tastes, and smell foul smells as I get milked and milked without end. Something injected into my veins that changed me in ways I could never predict. My capacity to orgasm keeps increasing, the pleasure and the pain becomes deeper and deeper…I need it more and more as I’m fucked and fucked harder and deeper. A pause for a moment…whilst the machine also pauses in it’s deep enslavery of me. I was told don’t think of how horny such deep heavy shit filth eating could be..and of course I did..in vivid detail. As I thought about such deep smelly enslavory so thoroughly and inhumanly forced upon me, I grew harder and harder still. I needed it and nothing would stop me making myself take myself into the deepest shit slavory I could. I touched the machine and I was his now before the bonds and shackles were even in place.

There are clever people in the world who can create such a machine, as it knows how best to fully enslave and torture me completely. It was certainly designed to take me and break me to its will as the filth it forces down me had been a hearts desire for years…I’d needed this to be forced upon me and I’d never had the courage to allow it to happen. So I can only thank the twisted mind who read me so well, who decided that he wanted me desperate and tortured mounted deeply upon this machine.  When I first saw it, I grew hard..when I first smelt it…I dripped precum. This was it…I had desired that I wanted to make myself want the deep desire to become a permenant total fucking shit slave to an unfeeling machine that would simply pressure pump my mouth, my throat, my stomach, my arse and bowels full of the nastiest, more disgusting liquified rotted filth and sewage that can be found whilst I was to be totally stretched without regard to my limits as I could never scream again.

The machine will keep me alive and take me further and deeper and time will slow the more pain, and the more filth I experience and taste..the slower time will become, stretching out like the worst experiences you’ve ever had combined with the deepest horniest sex you’ve ever had..that’s what will happen to me as my arsehole is thoroughly and deeply tortured and stings, you know how that feels to be fucked and raped so hard…and that feeling becomes more vivid the more you think about how curious you can relate to this feeling of deep fucking fisting and raping now. Oh god, the smell is filling my mind and if you were here you’d need this so badly, your mouth like mine full, stretched deeply with the smelliest grossest shit you or I could ever taste or imagine.

The bet didn’t hold my desire.The room I was in was a small steel cell who’s door I heard welded shut behind me. I knew then that it was too late..and I was grateful..how did I have this state of such need I do not know..but there it was…I must mount the machine.  It was sleek, and beautiful, built to be ridden upon and it was obvious what goes where. To see it was to be insanely curious as to what it would feel like to put what just where. Bulbous shafts, with hollow cores would be what was to penetrate me. Little did I know that all my hearts desires would flow through those xylum. Filth, diarrhea, sewage, rotted piss, all these would be now permenently pressure filling my entire body as I found myself being altered to taste and experience this more deeply, more vividly and being made to feel every sensation as if it would last forever. I found myself desiring this, this incredible sensation of noticing and sensing every last detail is getting stronger and stronger, my attention was getting deeper I realised I could see and smell every grain of shit individually and I found myself analysing how disgusting this all is and yet that disgustingness I needed the more I analysed my need for it…

The filth, the piss all that I needed…I’d been altered just staring..as my deepest darkest desires flowed forth from the most hidden depths and shadows of my mind. My reason, it fled, and hid away soon to be forgotten as the machine was going to seduce my mind until I broke and become one with the filth fucking machine that was to become part of me.  It was filthy in it’s sleekness and yes I needed to lick the copious smears of shit and filth from all over it..it was as if I was commanded and I could not help but obey..the shit was thick and filled my mouth as I hurriedly licked it off…man oh man I was dripping more and more. I didn’t know that in the very air was something that changed me and continues to do so. I am glad it did..because now I can enjoy this heaven and hell of this machine that makes me bleed, and fills me so deeply. 

I mounted this gorgeous horny beautiful machine, so sensous and so wrong, so nasty and smelly. My cock fitted and became clamped tightly in place, hard and ready to worship the machine the way the machine deserved. I knew the bonds were there and the phalluses were only waiting for me to be fully secured so that they could expand and do their job of wrecking my arse and torturing me deeply…god did I need them..more and more. I franticly looked for the bonds to enslave myself deliberatly to the machine. This was it, I’d chosen myself to allow myself to be tortured machine fucked shit slave. I found the bonds of shaped steel. They were curious, as they had only one movement. That of locking and sealing. They could not be undone, for to try to cut me out would be to doom me. This I wish for…and wished I’d done before..now I did it. I pushed my limbs into the appropriate slots and felt the machine clamp me tightly to it, as if it too was desperate to fill me, fuck me, hurt me and enslave me to the filth it wished to pump me full of.

The fucking began, slowly as the phalluses filled and expanded. The one in my mouth took care to painfully fill my mouth, and draw back to only my teeth when it pumped liquified shit into me hard. It would then reshape and thrust painfully down my throat, making me gag as I tried to swallow the filth. I couldn’t spill the slightest drop, the machines design was so clever. It sealed my mouth to it’s phallus with an outer clamp , that was punched through my lips bolting them open and making a complete permenant seal that would ensure that nothing ever again would leak from them. Now my fate was sealed. I was permenantly locked into the filth fucking machine and I had chosen to have this done as I was desperate to make myself more and more desperate and desiring of needing this to happen….don’t reread this yourself as you will possibly find some or more or all of this story becomes something of you that makes you think of the worst of YOUR desires that you dare not make happen but you want to make yourself want to make happen. Some stories do that, this one did to me and now I am here permenantly enslaved to this machine that will keep me alive forever eating the worst shit you could imagine yourself enjoying being forced to eat whilst being raped hard and deeply

Another Scat Box

You made it as bad as possible. The buckets that is. Two of them.

One is warm, body temperature in fact. The other however, is stone cold. The contents like a foul porridge, something out of Dickens, only shades of brown with lighter bits rather than grey.

You had taken a lot of time, trouble and planning to get these buckets together. The completion of the scene was the only way forward for you.

The apparatus was chilling in its meticulousness. A thick perspex container, stained inside some but still clear enough for viewing. It was long enough to contain me, shackled to the bottom. Ankles, knees, waist, elbows, wrists even my fingers were all securely clamped into place. The locks were resin filled. Getting me out would be tough and undesirable to you. The end of this scene would be unpleasant to say the least.

The head was divided at the neck with another perspex wall that had a hermetic seal jammed tightly into my throat.

The facemask was designed to make my life extremely hard. The wide open pipe flares out inside my teeth so that I’m able to tongue inside the pipe just, but unable to even slightly block the aperture. Nearly two inches in diameter, my jaw hurts already. My nose has an attachment that leads further up the pipe, delivering pure odour straight to my nostrils. I would experience every nasty sensation the contents of the pipe could deliver.

My head was tightly clamped in place with steel bands, my only view was straight ahead into the clear perspex toilet bowl that funnels into my pipe and down my throat.

The contents of the buckets, I didn’t want to think about. I would learn about those all too soon.

—-

I’d put a few stories too many online, and this was the result. The previous story was another hypnotic effort and it was this that caused me my current misery. I’d accidently created a top of my very own. One who became somewhat obsessed with me and the character he believed me to be during my stories. He became determined to free my filthy nature for me. This wasn’t good. That story contained forcefeeding scenes that are more than a little hazardous for health, not mention likely to cause drowning.

He wanted to turn me into a proper cess tank of course. That was the aim of my story, and it became his goal. Day by day, he went through my stories and pulled ideas together.

Themes of specialised restraint and specific sadistic techniques to forcefeed suggested themselves to him through my work. The more mechanical and inhuman the force feed treatment, the more it appealed to him. My current situation, I’ve been told is purely the beginning.

I was kidnapped from a more innocent meeting. I met a guy for something much more ordinary. I gave lessons in certain things, and this was one such appointment. At least so I thought. This was not to be however.

The coffee’s bitter taste was not a sign of an expensive brand of Columbian. Waking up, I am shown my situation in a mirror to drive home the truth of where I was. Earphones allowed him to talk to me-he was quick to inform me that I would be on show, online. Pay per view.

The buckets. He couldn’t decide what was worse. Warm sewage or cold. So I get both. The buckets were the beginning, as my arse was currently filled with a pipe leading to a nice caravan style portable sewer tank. Apparently I was to fill it up for further consumption, which would be quite a feat. 45 Gallons is a lot of shit.

He’d been out, collecting. The hardest part apparently was the semen. Not just human. He didn’t elaborate, but had left most of it to go stale and vile. There are worse things than shit. Semen, fresh or stale is one of those for me. He knew I disliked it more than any other fluid he’d come up with. Told you, I’d accidently created a bit of a sadist. I was treated to my first of many choking sessions as he’d got more cum than he needed for the buckets. Vile, metallic bitter taste that doesn’t leave your mouth for ages was my first treat. I lay struggling against my steel bonds when the first nasty musk smell of the cum hit my nostrils. Apparently it’s quite easy to get non human cum in quantity without causing any discomfort to donors. All I know, is I was the donee and being filled with it.

A pint later, I threw up. Directly into the funnel that tortured my jaws. The vomit was copious and I was in tears as the weight of it forced me to swallow it repeatedly for what seemed like forever. His voice, encouraging me to perform for his paying customers reminded me that the more I swallowed and struggled, the better he liked it.

Soon the vomit was consumed and my stomach burned. He fetched the buckets. Through strategically placed mirrors, I could see everything. The buckets contents looked bad. Very bad. Vomit was mixed with all shades of brown and yellow. The lumps were disgusting to look at, semi melted organic lumps of filth that had sat for quite some time dissolving in bitter concentrated piss. There were clots of off white cum lacing the top of this mixture. However, I knew there was much more mixed in there.

For the benefit of his audience, he’d filmed himself collecting the contents of these buckets. Some of the places he went made me go pale. Kennels, pigsties, slurry units, portapotty tanks and various clubs where used condoms were almost a fashion statement in the gents. This had taken him quite some weeks. He happened to own the portaloos, which made collection a doddle.

What he was after was the nastiest filth combination he knew how to come up with. He wanted to see what would happen to a novice pig if he simply overloaded him with foulness. He was about to find out.

He started with the warm bucket after mixing it up some. This soon flowed into my pipe and filled the funnel. The weight of the foulness soon settled into my mouth-at first I didn’t get the full flavour…unless I took a panicky breath. Several litres of sewage weighs several kilos…and that pressure on my throat was extremely scary. I fought gagging and choking, trying to prevent the stuff from filling my stomach.

The bitter acridness of the cum, vomit and diarrhea overwhelmed my senses, and I choked so hard that my nose was filled with the stuff. My survival was at stake now, and release wasn’t happening. The only way to live was to swallow hard and fast, as my life depended on it. Soon I got into a rhythm, a shit sewage swallowing rhythm that made my mind go numb as the slurry began to expand my stomach….


 

Squat Toilet

Ever seen one of those toilet boxes? You know the one with the lift up section thats padded for a guys neck to go into?
Ever been in one? Want to be in one?

I didn’t.

I’m cold. I’m filthy. Covered in still wet shit, I’m fastened down on the cold steel of some jerkoff builders van. I’m wet, because I’m nearly floating in piss and shit.
The dirty scumbag has left me shivering unable to call for help.

I ended up here purely by chance. I was available. We met in a gay bar and got on real well. He was skinny, mohican and red indian style stripes. Interesting looking fellow, he had the most detailed tattoos I’d ever seen over his skull.
Turns out he’s a contractor working in the area. Accent like an old west country pirate, made him come across real friendly like.

I’m somewhat sub, at least more so than top. A little tying down, bit of fun. That’ll do me. Nothing too heavy. I don’t meet many guys, normally liking life to be pretty safe.
Jed he was called. We spent the night drinking of course. He suggested a curry and beer contest. Well, in the state I was in, I was sure I would win. Between us we managed enough food for about six. The wonders of beer.

Surprisingly, dizziness notwithstanding, we kept it all down. He suggested another dare. At this point I was nearly too pissed to care.
His suggestion, was to take his man-me-back to his van, and tie him to the floor. To have his wicked way as it were. At this suggestion he’d turned round and grabbed me gently. I was already ahead of him, so he had a nice handful to play with.
I looked into his eyes..and said well yes.

Back at his van, I climbed into the back after stumbling over an unusual ledge just behind the doors. It projected a few inches up from the floor. I couldn’t see much apart from some plastic containers with tubes in them and a white box.
Jed climbed in after me…more unsteady than I was. As I was scrambling to make room, I bumped into a curved metal projection set into the floor. Jed found a light and showed me his kinky setup. Turns out in the back of his van he’d got a series of detachable steel clamps laid out in the shape of a spreadeagled man
There were quite a few-anyone in them would be lucky to wriggle a toe.

"I see you come prepared" I say, turning to face him.
"You can always stagger off home..jus’ thought you’d go for a bit of fun.." He answered.

I look at the clamps…and the cold steel floor. If I’d been sober, cold steel and restraints would have sent me packing.
You’ve seen the advert about the drunk guy right? The one where he’s dressed like a superhero, climbs the scaffolds and does amazing acrobatics..then falls off and dies?
Yeah..that’s me..only I’m actually thinking seriously to try out what it’s like to be clamped down. Cold steel at night of all things..

I look at him and nod. “Ok” I say.

He opens all the clamps and we play musical shuffles, creating new bruises as the space is a little intimate. Eventually I manage to lie down in the correct position. Feeling incredibly vulnerable, I watch as he clumsily works each clamp lock. As my legs are fastened tightly in, I noticed how sturdy each thick steel band actually is. Serious restraints here. Getting out on my own is NOT happening. A little trepidition makes its way through the thick coating of beer in my mind. The buzz soon settles if of course and I watch the world spin as Jed continues to clamp my body to the floor.

I hear him move to the front of the van once the last finger clamp is in place. I hadn’t even noticed those! it’s going to take a while to get unlocked here.

He struggles back with a sizeable white box which he positions behind my head.
"Ok, whats that Jed?" I ask
"Part of the scene..I don’t have a proper clamp for your head as it would cause neck problems. Instead I use a supportive box." He replied

When drunk, it’s easy to be gullible. I would never have believed him. At that point I hadn’t realised that I was at the last point where I would be able to call for help. After this i would be one hundred percent helpless. I strain my eyes to see behind me, above my head. Jed was lifting a section of the box up and manouvering to my head.

"Lift your head up"

I comply. I wish I hadn’t now. My head slides into place and the box is clamped nicely around my head. Dark until Jed lifts the lid. Shows how gullible I was at that point. Ten beers has that affect apparently. The opening was oval. He reaches in and clamps my head into position. Now I cannot move my head.

"Open your mouth a minute" He says.
"Why?"
"You want to continue don’t you?"He says more quietly now.
I look at him, trying to work out where he’s going here. I was totally pissed and couldn’t make 2+2 equal 4. Once again I fall for it…up till now I still thought we were playing a game. He quickly reaches in with something in his hand. Slips it between my teeth and opens it up before I can bite down. It locks nicely behind my teeth and I’m stuck with a rapidly cramping jaw jammed tightly open.

This is the point where I realise I’ve got a problem. He glues a nose mask into place  and I start to yell. He grabs my balls and gives a twist.

"Shut up…do you want us to get spotted playing in here?"
I gargle in reponse, I can’t form words.

He sits looking at my face, with a ready willing mouth open waiting for him. His trousers come down and a thick uncut cock is revealed. Aiming carefully he begins to piss directly down my throat. My first taste of piss and I try to spit it out. You try it sometime without closing your mouth somewhat. I end up choking and swallowing. Soon I am racing to swallow before I retch. Throwing up in this position would be deeply unpleasent.

I realise with some horror that pissing wasn’t all I’d be expected to endure. He’d bought me here to be his toilet for the night. What a weird way to get off. I start to fight and struggle but I’ve left it too late. The clamps do not move in the slightest and I’m pretty well fucked for the moment.

He turns round and sits down. His ass is inches away, and stinks of course. The nose tubes curl under the rim of the box so I get a full hit of his ripe unwashed butt. At this point, his ass opens up and he explodes into my mouth. The shock leaves me frozen. I literally cannot even think. The sensation of ripe hot shit filling my cheeks and coating my tongue leaves my mind blank with shock. It takes me several minutes to realise what had happened and to retch. I try to expel the semi liquid filth but end up swallowing some. Now I have a problem, I’ve no idea what the risks are here.

He gets up, turns round and using a steel dildo begins to force the shit down my throat.

"You’re going to eat every bit of my shit before I let you go tonight" He tells me
I cannot respond at this point. Nausea has driven the beer out of my mind. Stone cold sober I lie there gasping and retching, jaw cramping, trying not to panic.

Jed watches me thoughtfully.
"i’ve saved you something else nice. Lemme show you" He says, reaching for something out of my vision. Bringing it over me, I see it is one of the plastic boxes.
"These are caravan toilet cassettes.  About 5 gallons each, of liquified shit. Mostly diarrhea as that will give me the most pleasure to feed you. I’ve been working real hard and got you ten. Ten full boxes to keep you happy."

Who he thinks I am I do not know. I do know I cannot swallow fifty gallons of filth, tied down or not. I look at him through my tears, questions in my eyes. He’s too drunk or high or something to notice.

The cassette is opened and tipped into the box, aimed down my throat. Lumpy liquid slimy brown crap flows out and begins to fill my mouth.
My mouth overflows and I’m unable to eject any of the stuff so I lie there, retching and choking as the overflow pours over my face and begins to fill the toilet box. He continues to rain diarrhea onto me, heedless of whether I’m actually swallowing or not. I manage to hold the sewage in my mouth with only the smallest amount going down my throat. Controlling the retching was the hardest part. The stink was indescribable, however I soon became accustomed to it. No choice.

The liquid was soon lapping at my ears as the first cassette emptied. The taste of it’s contents was acid and bitter, he’d kept it for some time.
"I’m going to fill the box if you don’t eat up" He said "Your staying in there until the box is empty again".

He’d ignored the fact I couldn’t turn my head.

My answer was to look at him through shitsmeared eyes, trying to communicate that I was desperate to get free and jump in a lake of bleach right now. However, he was too far gone in his fantasy to see that. Totally ignoring the fact I wasn’t swallowing he proceeded to empty the next few cassettes until my head was totally submerged in the filth. Now I realised his planning. The nosetubes meant I could breath albeit smelling the rotted sewage my head was encased in. I felt rather than heard the lid being locked down.

I could feel cold liquid being poured over my body and his hands rubbing in yet more shit. A tube was shoved painfully into my asshole and was followed by a cold cramping sensation. Filling my mouth wasn’t enough…he was stuffing my ass as well? Soon the liquid was covering the floor of the van by several inches or so. I was shivering now. Cold, covered in filth, I couldn’t cry out. I’d no idea what was next.

I felt the van door open and him climbing over me to get out. If he said anything else, I didn’t hear it.

I was stuck, immersed in shit and no way to get out. I’d no idea what was going to happen next.

Time stretched as my muscles cramped…pain became my companion far more than nausea. My insides cramped, my jaw cramped and my muscles were spasming so hard that I was getting blisters where the clamps were hold me.

I was panicking. The guy was high when he put me here, perhaps he’d forgotten me? I’d no idea..

I lay there drifting in and out of pain filled consciousness, waking when more liquid shit slid down my throat. Retching was now as routine as breathing.