Toilet Training John

John and Sarah were having a few minor difficulties in their marriage. Like all couples they had their problems, and they tried to work through them as best they could. On this specific morning Sarah was trying to deal with her anger and frustration over John's selfishness by administering a severe caning. A few minutes earlier he'd carelessly spilled her morning gift to him, and she was feeling particularly annoyed. Between each stroke of the cane against his red striped butt, and between each muffled whimper from him, she fumed with anger.

"You are a useless goddam toilet."

Whack.

"Every morning it’s the same."

Whack.

"You only have one simple thing to do."

Whack.

"Get on your knees by the bed, open your mouth and swallow my piss. How hard can that be?"

Whack.

"But every day it’s something different. Either you can't drink it fast enough. Or you cough at the wrong moment. Or it misses your mouth. And don't even remind me of the time you vomited...."

The memory of that last incident, the time he'd been so rude as to not only vomit up her piss, but also to do it against her favourite white bedspread, drove her into an even greater fury. With three rapid powerful strokes in quick succession she laid vivid red lines across his upper legs, and then paused to enjoy the sound of his resulting screams.

As she stood there, idly tapping the heavy wooden cane against the marks she'd just laid down, she pondered the problem. Clearly he was failing in his duties as her toilet and her husband. And it was therefore her duty as his wife and mistress to correct that. The standard training methods just didn't seem to be working. Everytime he did well and managed to avoid spilling anything she praised him and gave him a little reward. Maybe a chance to sleep in the bed with her rather than on the floor at the foot of it, or an opportunity to eat a proper dinner with her rather than eating chopped up scraps from a dog dish in the kitchen. She'd even promised him that if he managed 2 weeks without an accident she'd allow him an unmonitored 5 minutes out of his chastity cage. But even that ultimate gift had not been enough motivation.

Today's little spillage, coughing at the wrong moment and causing her heavy morning stream to splatter on the floor, was the 3rd accident this week. So far she'd used the whip twice and now the cane. His back and legs were heavily marked with fresh red lines and older deep purple streaks which, however visually and erotically appealing to her, were clearly not getting the message through to him. She pondered the problem while sliding the tip of the cane up and down his back, tapping on some of the older bruises as she did so and illiciting quiet moans from him. Obviously more extreme measures were called for. He'd had his chance to learn his proper role in life the easy way, now he was going to force her into doing it the hard way.

Slowly the rough outline of an idea began to form. If he couldn't be a proper voluntary toilet maybe a period as an involuntary one might resolve the problem. If nothing else it would show him how much worse it could be for him, and just maybe it would condition him to accept whatever she chose to put down his throat. Building the necessary equipment for it would be tricky, but luckily she knew a person how could help with that.....

Two hours later, after she'd got him to run her a nice bath and make breakfast; she was explaining her problem over a coffee to her friend Jane. The pair of them made a striking couple as the sipped their cappuccino's at a table outside their favourite local cafe. Jane was a petite Asian girl, a delicate waif, with short dark hair in a bob style cut. She was younger than Jane, only in her mid-20's, and dressed in a casual alternative style, favouring funky leather jackets, short skirts and boots. In contrast Sarah was a more classical beauty; tall and long limbed, sporting long straight blonde hair. She was Scandinavian on her mother's side, and that was reflected in her clear white skin and blue eyes. Her fashion sense we far more conventional, tending to long skirts and designer European style tops and jackets.

They'd met at the local bdsm club mixer event, and instantly bonded over a shared philosophy of sadism and female supremancy. They now regularly got together for coffee and a chance to compare notes on the best ways to train, torture and torment the men in their lives. In this area Jane not only offered ideas and suggestions, but was also an invaluable source for equipment and tools. Her main line of work was designing expensive custom made furniture, but as a sideline for a certain select group of people she also designed and produced bdsm equipment. As Sarah described the situation she was already beginning to sketch ideas on a handy napkin.

"He's being a complete selfish prick. All I require is that when the alarm goes off he gets up from his spot on the floor, and kneels by the side of my bed with his mouth open and his head back. Then his only job is to swallow. Christ, a baby could manage that. But no, not this useless bastard."

"And the usual training techniques aren't working?"

"No. I've been beating his ass for weeks now and still he screws up. The only thing I can think of is that he has some deep seated mental block around drinking my piss. I'm therefore going to need something a little more radical than normal to break him. Something that'll reduce him to his appropriate status as a simple tube for my waste."

"Do you want to train for the full-service toilet, and deal with solid waste as well or just liquid for the present?"

"Let's start with liquid. If we can solve that problem, then maybe we can expand for the full service training."

"OK. I've got a few ideas how we can tackle this. How about this for an approach?"

Jane passed across the napkin she'd been sketching on. Sarah inspected the roughly illustrated mechanism carefully and then began to smile.

"Jane, you're a genius. You've what I had in mind perfectly."

"Thanks. Let me explain some of the more interesting features I'm planning on.........."

It was two weeks later and Jane had just called to say she was on her way over with the final version of the apparatus that she'd been designing. John was in kitchen scrubbing the floor on his hands and knees when he heard the phone ring and caught Sarah's excited half of the conversation. Jane had been across several times in the past two weeks to take various measurements off his body and have him try out different sized gags and posture collars. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but he knew it probably wasn't going to be good news for him. Particularly ominious was the fact that for the last four days Sarah had placed him on a liquid only diet and administered a regular series of enemas. She only did that when she was planning to confine him somewhere for an extended period and wanted to avoid dealing with messy waste disposal issues.

Twenty minues later he was ordered outside to unload several large boxes from Jane's SUV while the two women chatted excitedly and inspected design drawings.

"OK, wimp boy," Sarah told him. "Carry these boxes through to the master bathroom, then once you've finished cleaning the kitchen, get naked and come and meet us back there."

By the time he'd finished in the kitchen and returned to the bathroom the boxes were open and spread across the floor, exposing a series of metal tubes and wires. While Jane was busy grabbing her tools and unpacking the heavy steel components, Sarah set to work to prepare John. Reaching into a box at her feet she emerged with a long sinuous red leather sleeve, with heavy laces and buckles dripping from it. With a curt word he was instructed to turn around and, as he held his arms vertically together behind his back, she pulled them into the sleeve and began to lace it tightly shut. Slowly she worked up the length of his arms, tightening and re-tightening the laces as she went. By the time she was done his arms were tightly immobilised in the supple leather sleeve from fingertip to shoulder joint.

The next piece of the puzzle she pulled from the box was one of John's least favourite toys, a heavy gauge catheter. Using just a tiny smear of lube she began to push it down his urethra, twirling it backwards and forwards between her fingers as she did so. At several points, after particularly vicious twists, John let out little screams of pain, but she didn't pause or hesitate until the end had located itself inside his bladder. Using a syringe of saline she inflated the small balloon at the end of the tube to ensure it wouldn't pull free, and once again got some screams of pain when she tugged the sealed end of the dangling tube to ensure it was seated correctly.

Stepping back from John she looked him up and down, her head slightly tilted to the side and a quizzical expression on her face. To Jane, watching the show from the sidelines, it looked a little like a craftsman inspecting an ongoing project. A careful assessment of what was working and it what still needed fixing. Then, without any warning at all, Sarah took a quick step forward and viciously slapped John across the face. One hard blow with the open front of her hand that knocked his head to the side, and then a swift followup blow with the back of her hand to straighten it out again.

"You ungrateful bastard," Sarah scolded him. "I don't want to hear any more screams or cries from you. All this work we're doing here is for your benefit. If you were any sort of decent husband none of this would be necessary."

John said nothing. He knew from bitter experience anything he said now would only make the next few hours even more painful and humiliating for him. His only option was submission and obedience, so he cast his eyes towards the floor and tried to ignore the throbbing pain on the sides of his face.

The final item Sarah pulled from her box of goodies was a pair of flexible electrodes. Made of thin rubber tubing studded with metal contact points the electrodes allowed a painful electrical shock to be delivered to any part of the body they were wrapped around. Sarah lubricated them with a conducting gel and then carefully wrapped them around John's cock and balls. One was wound in a figure eight around his scrotum, separating and lifting his balls apart, containing each of them in a tight little pouch. The other was wrapped around his cock, starting from the groove below its head, with great care taken to ensure the studded metal contacts made a firm connection with all the delicate nerve endings located there. By the time she was finished John's cock was in a sorry state. Speared with the catheter and wrapped by the tubular electrodes, it looked like a part from some complex plumbing equipment.

While Sarah had been concentrating getting John ready, Jane had been busy screwing and bolting together the metal tubes from the other containers. The end result was a metal frame in the shape of box, around 2 feet square on each side and a little over 3 and half feet high. At the bottom of the open framed box, almost resting on the floor, was a thin black seat. It was bolted in place, located on a pair of diagonal metal crossbraces that ran from corner to corner of the frame. To Sarah the seat looked like the top from an ultra-modern bar stool, contoured to fit and padded with a leather covering. The only difference was that most bar stools didn't have a huge rubber buttplug sticking up from the centre of them.

"OK," said Jane. "I think I'm done assembling the first part of the frame. Let's get him installed."

Each of them took a firm grip of his body, holding him either side at each shoulder. Slowly they pushed him down to his knees, and then forced him to shuffle backwards into the box frame and onto the seat. Sarah carefully checked underneath him to ensure the enormous plug was aligned properly and then, without any warning, they both pushed down on his shoulders, exerting their full weight on him and spearing him down onto the thick shaft. His anal ring screamed in pain as it was stretched before snapping shut on the thinner section of the shaft at the point where it met the seat. However, with his wifes warning about crying out still ringing in his ears, he gritted his teeth and made no sound despite the pain.

He was now seated in the center of the box, with the top of the frame three or four inches above the crown of his head and his knees pushed up below his chin in front of him. Reaching down beneath him, Jane drew forward the leather strap that extended from the end of the single sleeve and fastened it to a hook at the front of the seat, trapping his arms tightly against his back. Three thick leather straps were used to bind his legs together into a single unit, one at the ankles and then one either side of his knees.

At this point John was pretty well immobised. The fat plug filling his ass locked him in place on the seat, his arms were pulled together and held tightly behind him, and his legs were held together and folded up in front of him. But Jane had one more item to attach in order to complete his installation into her device. She produced an H shaped piece of metal, as wide and as high as the box itself. The horizontal centre bar was slightly padded and could be adjusted for height. She carefully lowered the bar, slipped it under John's feet and then raised it untill it was tight behind his knees. Once the vertical arms had been bolted to the top and bottom of the box, he was left with his legs dangling over the centre bar, his knees held raised and pushed back into his chest. As a final touch Jane then used a small length of rope to tie his ankle strap to the front of the seat, pulling his legs in and forcing him into even more of a compressed shape.

Sarah and Jane both stepped back and admired the stringent bondage they'd inflicted on John.

"Jane, I have to say you've really surpassed yourself this time" said Sarah admiringly. "He's beautifully held in place there. A tight little bundle just ready to be abused."

"Well that's only part one of the installation process," responded Jane with a smile. "I think you'll enjoy the final device even more once it’s finished. You wanted a well trained toilet, and I think I can promise you that."

Sarah crouched down by John and, wrapping her fingers through his hair, pulled his head up so she could stare into his eyes.

"Did you hear that toilet? By the end of this process you'll be a properly functioning peice of equipment that I can use. Not the screwed up failure you are right now. Now say thank you to Jane for all her hard work."

John didn't hesitate or pause. He had been too well trained to make that mistake.

"Thank you Mistress Jane for fixing my problem and making me useful," he stated in a quiet low voice.

Jane smiled again. Breaking the will of men, making them accept and cooperate in their suffering, always made her happy. And the more they submitted the more punishment she always wanted to inflict. To reach their limit, force a reaction, and them break them again.

"That's OK John" she said. "I always enjoy helping my friends out with their little marital difficulties. Now let’s get you plugged into the rest of the apparatus".

Sarah stood back and watched with pleasure as Jane went back to work. She first took the loose end of the catheter and attached it to a sealed plastic contained that she placed inside one of the front corners of the box.

"I'm afraid you'll have to empty this occasionally," she told Sarah. "But if you like the device enough we can always plumb a more permanent arrangement in."

Returning to her equipment boxes she then pulled out a severe looking posture collar and an odd looking gag. The posture collar was a corset style, made of heavy ribbed rubber and thick laces that ran down the front. Wrapping it around his neck, Jane got to work slowly pulling and tightening it, working each row of lacing in turn, gradually forcing his head upwards and back. The front of the collar was higher than the back, and by the time everything was tightened to her satisfaction, his chin was forced into the air and he was staring up at the top of the metal frame.

The gag was a heavy duty industrial looking peice of equipment. Jane had actually got help from a dentist friend for its design and construction. She wanted to ensure it fitted perfectly and nothing could possibly leak out. The design was based around the standard harness gag, with a series of leather straps that were designed to wrap around the head. However, rather than the more usual ball gag attachment, there was a thick U-shaped mouthpeice that had been cast to fit John's mouth. As she carefully slipped it into his mouth John could feel his teeth mesh perfectly into the molded shape and, as she gradually tightened the straps under his chin and around his head, his ability to move his jaw or mouth in anyway quickly disappeared.

Jutting from the centre of the mouthpeice was a short length of pipe, around half an inch in diameter, and an insulated electrical wire. Sarah was intrigued by this and moved in for a closer look.

"What's the wire for?" she asked her friend. "I can guess what goes down the pipe, but do you also plan to deliver shocks into his mouth?"

"That's an interesting idea. I hadn't thought of electrical shocks to the teeth and gums. Perhaps that might be something worth trying for version 2. Can you imagine the pain? But no, that's a sensor wire, not a shock wire. As soon as I've finished setting it all up I'll explain everything"

With the gag and posture collar now firmly in place, Jane returned to the construction of the outer frame. With Sarah's help she took two rectangular wooden panels, and slid them into either side of the frame at the level of John's neck. Each was the width of the frame, and had a semi-circular cut out in their centre, so by the time she had finished bolting them into place John's head was sticking up through them like a severed head on a platter. With his body wrapped and held in a tight ball on the seat, and with his neck now gripped firmly by the wooden panels either side of the posture collar, John could only now hopelessly blink his eyes and wait for Jane to finish installing him.

The next peice of the puzzle was a large square of moulded clear acrylic plastic. It was the same size as the top of the box and Jane dropped it onto the top of frame, leaving John staring up through it. Moulded into the plastic was a basin, roughly the same diameter as a bathroom sink. However, it was shallower than a normal washroom basin and it felt to John as if it almost draped itself across his up turned face, leaving him only half an inch or so gap to draw air into. A couple of pipes trailed from it, one from what was obviously the drain point and another from what looked like a kind of sprinkler or flushing mechanism around the basin edge.

"This part took a lot of time to get right," commented Jane. "At first I had a more traditional toilet bowl design, but that meant the top of the frame had to be much higher and the receptical's face ended up too far away. So I went with this more 'tilted J' look, a little like a men's urinal design. The back part slopes gradually, parallel to his face, and then there's a small drop into the collection point, before it then sharply rises almost vertically at the front. The beauty of this approach is that he's held directly under the stream, looking up at it. You can pee in his face and still make sure it goes into his mouth!"

As Jane talked she continued to work on the device, inserting screws around the edge of the clear plastic square and fixing it onto the top of the tubular steel frame. The pipe jutting from the center of the gag was then attached to the flexible and transparent plastic tube running from the drain point of the basin.

"OK, we're almost done here" said Jane. "Why don't you go and grab us each a glass of wine, while I finish up the final wiring? Then when you come back I can run through the operation of it with you."

By the time Sarah returned with the wine Jane had everything finished and her tools packed away. The box now had wooden sides that ran from the floor to the wooden panels either side of his neck, meaning that all that could be seen of John was his upturned head, sandwiched between the plastic basin and the wooden top of the box. An electrical control unit had been installed on the front wooden panel and as Sarah moved closer she could see a number of intriguingly named buttons such as 'SHOCK', 'FLUSH' and 'RECYCLE'.

"Jane, it looks fantastic. But how does it work? And how soon can I start testing it?"

Jane took a drink of her wine and smiled. 

"I'll give you the full run down. And then we can both give it a trial run!" Pointing at the control box she continued, "Let's start with the basic stuff. The SHOCK button is what you'd expect it to be. It delivers random intensity shocks to him. The buttplug has a conducting strip in it, and obviously you added the wires wrapped around his cock and balls. I've set the intensity range from between medium to high. If you want you can adjust it with this knob down to low or up to extreme, as you prefer."

Both smiled at this little joke. Jane knew that there was only one direction that setting might possibly go in, and it wasn't down to low. Stepping forward Sarah pressed and held down the shock button while staring down into John's eyes. Such was the rigerous nature of his bondage there was almost no movement, outside of a slight tremor of his head. But Sarah could see the pain in his wide eyes as every few seconds a vicious shock was delivered to his genitals.

"The FLUSH button delivers a gentle stream of water around the rim of the bowl", continued Jane once Sarah had finally released the shock button. "Useful to both keep the bowl clean and to ensure he doesn't get dehydrated. It's driven from an internal reservoir I've filled up for you. You might have to refill it occasionally."

Sarah tried the flush button and, accompanied by the hum of a concealed pump, a fine spray of water emerged from just below the rim of the bowl. Trickling down the sides it slowly pooled in the base of the bowl and drained down the waste tube into John's mouth.

"The RECYCLE button has a similar function, but it takes liquid from a different reservoir. You can probably guess which one. He's been in there long enough now to have something to recycle, so give it a shot"

Sarah pressed the button and then laughed as a fine yellow spray emerged from the sides of the bowl.

"How very ecologically minded of you Jane! I'm sure he'll appreciate doing his bit to help the earth."

"Yes, I thought you'd like that. But you haven't seen the best part of this design just yet."

Sarah released the flush button and watched as the last of John's recycle urine gurgled back down the sink and into his mouth.

"Well I love it so far. What's the clever part?"

"The problem we want to fix is his inability to drink at the necessary rate, right? We need to stop all that unecessary coughing and spluttering. His throat should just be a tube under your control."

"Yes, that's exactly it.'

"OK. So mounted in the tube in the mouth gag are two sensors, one to detect the presence of liquid and one to measure the liquid flow rate. Once someone pisses into the bowl the control box detects it and measures both the volume of liquid and the time it takes to completely drain into his mouth. If he drinks as fast as the liquid enters his mouth then nothing happens. But if he stops swallowing or blocks it with his tongue then it'll back up the flow and cause it to take longer than it should. If that happens then for every second over the calculated target time he gets 1 minute of random shocks to the cock and balls. And there's a display here that shows both total volume of liquid and the number of seconds he's exceeded the target time"

"Oh that genius Jane! Aversion therapy for pissing drinking. Or, more accurately, for not piss drinking!"

"Yes. After an extended session in here I think he'll be completely conditioned to accept whatever you want to pour down his throat"

"Well I can't wait. Let's give this toilet a proper christening. I think this morning's coffee needs to find itself a new home......."

It was eight hours later and John was in serious pain. His bladder felt massively distended, bloated from all the fluid that had been forced through it. His ass was sore from being trapped immobile on the same seat for so long and, thanks to the many electical shocks he'd received, his cock and balls felt like they'd been kicked and trampled by someone wearing sharp stilleto shoes. But the very worst sensation was around his mouth and nose. His throat and mouth had been coated in gallons of hot acric urine, and the reek of it filled his nostrils. No matter how many times he swallowed or ran his tongue around his gag sealed mouth, he couldn't seem to get rid of the taste. In some ways it felt like that was all he had ever tasted, all that he could remember tasting.

After Jane and Sarah had first used the device, sliding their beautiful bottoms onto the clear plastic seat above him and releasing their hot liquid waste into his mouth, he'd been left alone for an hour or two. From what he could hear from his confined position, Jane had gone home and Sarah spent most of the afternoon talking on the phone. As it began to get dark outside and early evening fell he heard the sound of numerous car doors slamming and the chatter of female voices from downstairs. His heart sank as he realized that what Sarah must have been organizing on the phone all afternoon was a party for her girlfriends.

The next few hours seemed to consist of nothing but piss swallowing and pain. An endless stream of giggling women empting their bladders down his throat. Sarah started the party by bringing everyone in to the bathroom to demonstrate the workings of the new appliance. They all had chance to play with the buttons and laugh as he was blasted with electrical shocks or forced to recycle his own waste. Then from that point, as Sarah kept up a steady stream of wine and cocktails downstairs, John was forced to consume a stready stream of urine upstairs. Particularly humiliating were the few men he was forced to service. Some of the women had brought their own slaves to the party to act as waiters and cleaners and they'd also been instructed to use the new toilet. Staring up at their dicks as they sprayed the inside of the bowl and he gulped down their piss made him feel exactly like the inanimate plumbing equipment that his wife wanted him to be.

Eventually the party had wound down and John had heard the last of the guests shouting their cheerful goodbyes. For the last hour he's seen and heard nothing, leaving him just the gurgling of his stomach and the persistent drip of his catheter for company. The last person to use him, a young cute red headed girl, had flipped the bathroom light off, so he was left waiting in darkness.

His wait was ended with a sudden burst of bright white neon light as Sarah flipped the light on and entered the room. In his stringent bondage he couldn't move his head to look at her, but as she cross his line of sight he saw she was wearing her ivory lacy teddy that she typically wore to bed. She looked beautiful and elegant, with her long blonde hair spilling across her shoulders and the light delicate teddy flowing around her as she moved. The contrast with his own position, naked and tortured, with a huge plug up his ass and a piss soaked gag in his mouth, couldn't have been any stronger.

She ignored him as she ran through her nightly cleanup routine, removing her makeup and brushing her hair. Even when she bent over his basin and spat out her toothpaste and mouthwash she didn't say anything. It wasn't until she'd pulled up her garment and settled herself down on the clear plastic above him that she began to speak.

"Jane is stopping over tonight. So you can expect her to come by later to use you as well."

John wasn't surprised by this. Many a night he'd lain on the floor at the foot of his wife’s bed while she and her petite Japanese girlfriend had made slow passionate love on the mattress above. They always forbade him to watch or touch himself while this was happening. He could only stare at the floor and wait for their cries and moans to diminish so he could get some sleep.

"She thinks the equipment worked very well. And I have to say I agree with her. I think regular periods locked in here, say every weekend for the next month, should really help you with your problem."

As she continued speaking her stream of urine began to splatter onto the basin and run down towards his mouth. The toothpaste and mouthwash she'd spat in earlier had helped refresh his mouth somewhat, but that taste was quickly lost as he began to gulp down her piss as fast as he could.

"And she's even got some neat ideas for a more advanced version. We were trying to figure out a way to use if for full service toilet training, and I think she might have a solution. Imagine if we fitted a high capacity water sluicing mechanism and then a small garburator or blender type mechanism between the bowl and your mouth. We could simply puree everything; shit, piss, waste food, whatever we wanted really. And then pump it all straight into you! Obviously it'd need a careful design to avoid any blowback to the user, some sort of dual chamber mechanism maybe, but Jane's very clever about figuring these things out. I'm sure she can have a version 2 out within a month or two. Won't that be wonderful for you?"

John continued to gulp the last of her pee down as she finished, wiped herself and then washed her hands. Without another word she flipped off the light and left him. John was once more alone in the dark, nothing but the taste of piss in his mouth, and the knowledge that however bad it was now, it was only going to get worse.