Mistress Stephanie's World

Mistress Stephanie’s Final Exam

I learned the following day that Mistress Stephanie was planning a large party that evening. I didn’t know if this meant that she’d postponed her “plans” for me, or if those plans were related to the party. In either case, I knew I didn’t dare ask her about it.

Since Mistress Stephanie and the girls were busy making preparations, they ignored me for most of the day. Mistress Stephanie called me in only briefly to reattach the “discipline device” to my crotch; then she told me to get out and stay out of the way for the rest of the day unless I was needed. Late in the afternoon, guests began to arrive. Most of them were domme friends and acquaintances of Mistress Stephanie. Some came alone or in pairs, others brought their slaves. In all, probably around thirty guests showed up. 
Not surprisingly, I recognized a number of them, since Mistress Stephanie and Mistress Angela had a number of mutual friends. In fact, Mistress Angela herself came to the party, and she’d brought Mistress Janet along with her. When they arrived, Mistress Stephanie ordered me to come out to the main room so they could see me. Mistress Angela was startled by the change in my appearance.

“Whoa! Look at those bruises! Have you let up at all since I gave him to you, Steph?”

Mistress Stephanie smiled. “That’s not my handiwork. My girl Erica did that last night.”

I felt a hand grab my ass firmly, and realized it was Mistress Janet’s.

“Well, I don’t mind my meat a little bruised. He’s still just as hot as ever!”

She licked the length of my neck up the side, then kissed my cheek when she reached it.

“You can have his meat if you want, Jan. His ass stays here with me,” Mistress Stephanie said.

The other two dommes loved this remark. They laughed for a full minute.

Other women in the room were beginning to look at me. Some were laughing and pointing. I was too far from them to hear what was being said, but thought my visible bruises might be the cause. Soon I had my answer. An unfamiliar domme grasped my shoulder as she passed.

“Hey, movie star,” she said to me, winking.

Several women overheard the remark and giggled. Mistress Angela witnessed the incident and saw my puzzled expression.

“You know why she called you that?” Mistress Angela asked me. “I made copies of our movie and passed them around. You know--the film of our little ‘date’ a few weeks ago? Almost all of these girls have seen it. Your limp dick is famous!”

She practically yelled this last remark, making sure that more than a few heard it. Female snickers came in response from around us.

“Damn, I’ve got to use the bathroom,” Mistress Janet said suddenly.

“You know where it is. Feel free to contribute,” Mistress Stephanie said.

Mistress Janet set her glass of champagne down and grinned at the other two women before departing for the bathroom. She returned about ten minutes later.

The next few hours passed without incident. It was like a typical cocktail party--unusual only because there were so many dominant females present. There was good music and plenty of drinks to go around. I sat mostly off to the side, as Mistress Stephanie had instructed. She wanted me present in the main room, but not in the way. Dommes continued to point at me and laugh throughout the evening, which I assumed was because of the movie. I pretended to be unaware of the attention, though I felt my face flushing when I heard the derisive laughter.

At around eleven p.m., Mistress Stephanie came over to the corner where I was sitting alone. She put her hands on her hips and stood watching me with a knowing smile on her face.

“The time has come,” she said to me. “It’s time for your final exam. Follow me.”

I walked behind her, following her through the main room and up the stairs, growing more fearful with each step. It was her smile that frightened me. I had been in her household long enough to sense when she had something particularly sadistic planned for me, and I had the feeling that this night would end up being even worse than the one before it.

We reached our destination---the upstairs bathroom. About twelve other dommes were standing around smiling. They apparently already knew what I was about to find out. At the bathroom door, Mistress Stephanie took me by the hand and led me inside. There was a terrible stench in there.

“Well, tonight is the final exam I promised you. The girls have trained you, and now you have to prove that you are worthy of the highest honor---being my personal toilet and being allowed to consume my nectar and ambrosia.”

She lifted the toilet’s top seat, revealing a shocking sight. The toilet was filled with shit. It was piled higher than in any toilet I’d ever seen. There were multiple layers, colors, and textures of it. The heap of shit was so deep that it rose way above the waterline. Once the shit was exposed, the stench grew much worse and soon permeated the whole bathroom. I understood well now why the other dommes were standing outside the open door even though they wanted to witness the coming spectacle.

“Most of the ladies have helped,” Mistress Stephanie continued. “I encouraged everyone to contribute at least a little piss or shit. As you can see, some of them contributed a lot. Probably twenty mistresses have used this toilet tonight. Not many slaves get this privilege, so I hope you appreciate it. All you need to do to pass the test is eat everything that’s in there. Clean the bowl. I’ll give you ten minutes.”

I looked at the mountain of excrement in the toilet bowl and did not feel at all privileged. Instead, I was overwhelmed with dread and disgust. Despite what I’d managed to do in training, the prospect of doing what Mistress Stephanie expected revolted me far more than even acting as Lucy’s toilet slave had. I needed to find a way to escape this. Driven by such desperation, I made a bad mistake. I decided to plead with Mistress Stephanie.

“Please…Mistress Stephanie---don’t make me do this.”

As I spoke these words, her expression darkened.

“What did you say?”

I swallowed hard. I knew she wasn’t pleased, but I still felt compelled to finish what I’d started.

“Please, Mistress Stephanie. I don’t think I can do it. Isn’t there some other way to test me?”

Mistress Stephanie’s jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed. Her rage built so palpably that  I began regretting my words even before she answered.

“You ungrateful little pisshole! Your life is worth less than the smallest hair between my legs, and you’re questioning me? These women came here tonight and offered something that you don’t even deserve! Do you think you can insult them by refusing it? It’s time that you learned something--- the shit in that toilet means a hell of a lot more than what you want, because your will means less than shit! You think I give a fuck what you want? You’ll want what I fucking decide you want!”

Mistress Stephanie reached into her purse and pulled out her remote control. I stood sweating and trembling, knowing I’d made a terrible error in questioning her with other dommes present. I’d never seen this kind of fury from her before, and it was terrifying to behold. She pointed the control in my direction.

“So you won’t eat it, huh?”

I didn’t even get a chance to answer. Mistress Stephanie pressed a button, and I screamed in pain. My knees buckled inward, and I sank to the floor with my hands on my crotch.

This was unlike that day in the living room when I’d first experienced the testicle-torturer. Mistress Stephanie was not  just demonstrating the device now. She was wielding it as a weapon--using its full potential as an instrument of torture, and she was in no hurry to turn it off.

“Please, please,” I groaned.

“Please?” she said, feigning innocence. “‘Please,’ what? You want me to turn it off?”

“Yes, please, Mistress Stephanie,” I answered between gasps. “I’ll do what you want.”

She switched the device off.

“It’s been a while since you’ve felt Level Eight, hmm? Now what was it you were trying to tell me?”

I could hear stirrings of soft laughter and comments among the dommes outside the doorway. They seemed to approve of Mistress Stephanie’s method of punishment. Residual throbbing continued between my legs. My breathing was heavy, but I managed to answer.

“I-I’ll do it, Mistress Stephanie. I’ll eat what’s in there. I’m sorry I wouldn’t before.”

“Oh, you’re sorry,” she said. “Well, I believe you might be a little sorry, but I’m not impressed. You think you’re doing me a favor by agreeing to eat it? No, you don’t understand yet.”

Another jolt of blinding pain hit my groin without warning. I didn’t merely scream this time, I screeched. The pain was the worst I’d felt yet from the device, and far worse than Erica’s beating the previous night, even when she’d stomped on my balls. The agony made my pelvis twist and my stomach cramp horribly.

“Oh, please, please, no more! Please stop, Mistress Stephanie! Anything, I’ll do anything!”

She shut the device off again. I was whimpering and sobbing loudly.

“Awwwwww,” one of the dommes cooed in mock sympathy. The others laughed. I could expect no requests for mercy on my behalf.

“That was Level Nine,” Mistress Stephanie said. “Are you starting to appreciate the honor you’ve been given? I hope you’re ready to do more than agree to eat that shit now. I expect you to ask for permission to eat it. Now what do you have to say?”

I would have said or done anything she wanted by now. The pain that she’d given me was worse than anything I’d realized was even possible. I felt it from my ankles all the way up to my neck. My belly was still convulsing.

“Please, Mistress Stephanie, may I eat the shit in the toilet?”

“Are you sure you really want to?” she asked.

“Yes, Mistress Stephanie, I really want to. I would like to eat all of that shit. May I have permission to do it, please?”

“Not just yet,” she said, then hit another button.

It must have been Level Ten. The already-excruciating pain of Level Nine increased exponentially. My screeches were like those of an animal that had been doused with gasoline and set on fire. My muscles were completely beyond my control as I writhed on the bathroom floor, unable to even utter a syllable. I turned my eyes toward Mistress Stephanie to plead silently. She stood stoically with a small, satisfied smile, in no hurry to shut off the device, though she must have known that every second at this level felt like an hour of hell to me. I could see some of the other dommes in the background too. Some of them wore curious or indifferent expressions, but a couple of them, obviously the true sadists, were smiling.

I finally heard the click of the remote being shut off. The pain instantly lessened, though it did not cease. I still felt it in every part of me. The device had rendered my body a quivering mass with all of its strength drained.

Mistress Stephanie strode over to where I lay and stared down at me. I felt powerless beneath her, like an insect.

“I’m going to show you what a merciful goddess I am,” she said. “I am giving you permission to beg for your final exam. I’m going to allow you to try and convince me that you should be allowed the opportunity to eat what’s in that toilet---convince me that I shouldn’t switch this thing on again instead, and leave it on all night.”

I needed no more persuasion. I’d learned my lesson. And surprisingly, I honestly felt grateful to her for giving me another chance. Now I wanted nothing more in the world that to convince her of it.

“Oh please, Mistress Stephanie! Please, may I eat the shit in the toilet? I beg you, please, I want it more than anything!”

“I’m still listening,” said Mistress Stephanie. “I’m listening, but you’re really going to have to persuade me that you mean it. Do you really want this? I need to know what it means, and what I mean to you.”

She brushed the cold plastic of the remote control softly over my cheek, and added, “Convince me of your appreciation.”

I knew I didn’t have much time.

“Oh, Mistress Stephanie, you are my one and only goddess! I only want to please you. To please you means everything to me! Thank you so much for giving me this chance tonight that I didn’t even deserve. I appreciate it now---I swear I do! Thank you for helping me understand, My Goddess. I beg you, please, please let me prove it to you! I beg you to please let me eat the shit out of that toilet. I’ll lick it clean and thank you for the privilege of letting me do it. Please, Mistress Stephanie, I beg you, My Goddess, I beg you!”

I was groveling at her feet shamelessly now, even kissing the bathroom floor in front of her shoes. I didn’t care that I was doing this in front of other women. All that mattered was convincing Mistress Stephanie of my sincerity.

I continued begging this way for at least two minutes. Finally, Mistress Stephanie was satisfied.

“Ok, enough,” she said. “You’re a very lucky toilet slave tonight. I believe that you mean it. I’m going to allow you to prove yourself with your actions. Except for one thing: I told you before that you’d have ten minutes to clean that bowl. But because of the extra trouble you’ve caused me, I’ve decided to give you only five…”

She looked at her watch. “…starting right now!”

I wouldn’t have believed a minute earlier that I had the strength left, but knowing what I needed to do---what I had no choice but to do---I was energized. I practically leapt off the bathroom floor toward the toilet bowl without thinking. I didn’t have time to think about my disgust, I just did what I had to do; I plunged my head into the mound of shit and started consuming it, slurping it up, practically inhaling it, swallowing huge mouthfuls at a time, barely stopping to breathe for even a second. After all, five minutes was a short time to do what was necessary, and disappointing Mistress Stephanie was not an option.

I actually ate the shit and piss of twenty women that night. The dommes in the hallway came inside to watch and cheer me on. I swallowed soft turds, hard turds, small turds, and huge turds. I ate chewy, dense turds, and light, loafy turds. I lapped up liquefied shit and slurped down pints of piss.

“One minute!” Mistress Stephanie announced.

Approaching the bottom of the bowl, I sucked up the last of the contents, then hurriedly turned to the cleanup work, licking the porcelain toilet surface from bottom to rim. My final task was to flip the seat up and clean all the shit-splatters off the underside with my tongue. The bowl was actually empty---it was clean!

Mistress Stephanie checked her watch again. “Did it with nine seconds to spare,” she said.

All the dommes present applauded. I didn’t know whether they were applauding me, or if it was a tribute to Mistress Stephanie’s quick and efficient discipline of me, which had been so unquestionably effective. I was too exhausted to care why they were applauding, really. Only one thing mattered: I’d fulfilled Mistress Stephanie’s demands. Her agonizing punishments—at least for now—had ended. With my herculean task completed, I crumpled back onto the bathroom floor, spent from exhaustion and pain.

As if on cue, all of the dommes filed out of the bathroom except for Mistress Stephanie. She stood quietly for a while watching me in silence before finally speaking.

“Lie back on the floor and open your mouth,” she said softly. No trace of anger was left in her voice. Her tone was almost gentle.

I followed her instruction and she stepped forward and stood astride my face. I could see straight up between her legs and saw that she was wearing no underwear. Mistress Stephanie lifted her long skirt up from the sides and squatted low above my face. With impeccable aim, she drained her bladder down my throat. Even after all I’d already consumed, I managed to swallow all she delivered. Her urine was strong and thick, but sweet. As soon the last drop left her, Mistress Stephanie stood and strode out of the room without another word. I remained on the cold floor breathing heavily for a long time.