Date: Sun, 16 Apr 2017 18:23:55 -0700
From: Rottweiler Toilet <rottweilertoilet@gmail.com>
Subject: Rottweiler Toilet P3

Rottweiler Toilet

(M/M) [Gay]: Bestiality; Scat; Gloryhole; Gangbang; Watersports

Consider donating to Nifty if you enjoy (and if you're here, you do) this
kind of writing.  Stay nasty out there, mates and gals.  Scat is plenty
kinky, and that's the focus of our writing.  There already is and will be
plenty of it, but I found that it was rare to read material on animal scat
play.  This'll absolutely disgust some of you.  But some will just get
hungry.

If you're in the minority that wants to sit on the lowest end of the totem
pole and be a human doggie bag, this one's for you.   E-mail me at
rottweilertoilet@gmail.com if you want to talk raunch, human and animal.
And by all means, please send me pics of you or your slave's next meals.
After all, eating is a shared experience.

----------------------------------------------------------------

My belly swelled.

What time was it?  It was impossible to tell.  This room was lightless.  A
dungeon.  Airless... no, but... the air stank.  Of dogshit.  Six day old
pitbull shit.  Rottweiler, too.  Shame, I would rather have eaten Tank's
shit fresh from his ass.  Fat logs of dogshit had been stuffed deep into my
colon by a gloved fist, and now it was time for runny pitbull colon slurry
to fill my needy rectum.

I had a pound of runny pitbull shit, fermenting for six days, being stuffed
with a gloved hand into my rectum.  I had been given a taste test
beforehand, and it had tasted absolutely putrid.  My tongue rubbed the
gritty grains of dog feces out of my gums and swallowed, adding to the
pot.  My stomach had taken at least seven full dogbowls of dogshit in all
its various forms, whether firm or peanut-buttery smooth in texture, or
runny and sloppy like pigshit or diarrhea.  It churned and gurned,
struggling to digest the results of many animal bowel movements as food.
And this was over one day... no, one evening.  It was only the start of the
weekend.

I started to bear down and my shit-stained and dog-sperm coated hole opened
up, quivering around the four fingers dipping into my rectum.  The stranger
cupped a handful of dogshit, dipped his fingers in, then smeared them
around my insides, just inches inside my anal cavity.  I felt I had to go,
but I knew if whatever I couldn't hold in would just be restuffed into me
again, or my mouth, if my hole was being rebellious.  I tried to control
the spasms, the feeling of needing to go, but it was difficult.

Men laughed as I strained to close my abused dogcunt hole around the saggy,
sloppy runny pitbull shit.  Luckily, gravity was of some help in the
position I was in, ass high in the air, arms and legs restrained to some
heavy stainless steel bondage machine.  Every once in a while, I could see
hear their disgusted whispers.  I tightened my butt after each new handfull
of dogshit was stuffed in.  I wanted to do a good job.  I wanted to be the
best dogtoilet I could be.  I wanted to impress them.

Another handful went in, and another.  It felt roughly like a liter or so
of this pitbull's shit had been pushed into my intestines.  The smell was
overwhelming; way stronger than the fresh, soft, fudgey dogshit I had been
accustomed to from master's beautiful stud, Tank.  I was actually glad that
this was to be stuffed into my guts rather than digested through my mouth,
but I feared the oncoming end result: eventually, my bowel contents were
going to be redigested in a few days anyway.  I had eaten this wonderful
variety of dogshit, some aged, some fresh, and my wetwipe toilet tongue had
been cleaning over a half-dozen dirty animal asses.  So I knew my meals
would be enjoyed more than once, eventually...

"Alright kid, that was three days of Pitbull shit.  Let me check the
buckets and see what 'yer master wanted for the next one..."

I hung my head low.  I was happy, for a minute, to have a break.  I
shuffled in the sling uncomfortably, but kept my butt as tight as possible
so as not to let any of the dog slurry out.  My stomach was swollen, and I
felt the weight from both ends.  I panted.  Anybody who's ever received a
sizable enough enema knows how hard it is to keep from accidentally
slipping out, but... dogshit slurry, animal diarrhea, and big, thick, pasty
chunks of Rottweiler shit mixed in?  That's a whole 'nother ball game.

"Well, fuck.  English Mastiff's next on the list."

The stranger scratched his head.

"Looks like it's just one load, though.  'Yer handler, er, master, got a
bucket of it, but you're in for a treat."

The bucket was one of those ugly five gallon drums from the builder supply
stores, a bright orange color with a secure paint-bucket style lid,
fastened with wire handle.  The entire thing was stained brown, and with
nasty shit smear marks.  I hoped it wasn't too old.  The stranger cracked
the lid open in the direction of my face.

In the beginning of my toilet training, I had almost puked many a time.
Even as a young boy, I have to admit it is hard to eat men's shit, your own
shit, or animal shit, no matter how much you want or need to.  And I had
definitely grown into a toilet that really needed a square three or four
feedings a day to stay satiated, but the shit being presented to me was
unbelievable.  The smell was... what?  Unhealthy?  Nasty?  Weird?
Dangerous?  Fuck no, just another small obstacle to overcome for a happy
and healthy shit-eating dogscum toilet fucker.

"This' fourteen-day old English Mastiff shit.  Whew.  That's a right
fuckin' mess, boy.  Can't believe this is from one dog..."

Through watering eyes, I looked down.  The bucket was huge, almost
half-full, and I could see clearly that it was starting to liquefy, even in
the airtight container it had been stored in for two weeks.  It had been
laid to rest outdoors, in the sun, so there was a thick, pasty sort of
steam that condensed in sticky brown drops on the bucket's lid.  It was
held up to my face and I stuck my tongue out, cleaning it off.  I retched a
few times, but remembered my place.

I was a toilet.

I wanted this.  Needed it.  Deserved it, sure, but mostly shit-eating is a
need.  Animal shit eating is a luxury, and master and these men and their
animals were giving me the meal of a lifetime.  My cock jumped as I looked
down again into the contents of the bucket, a minimum of two pounds of
greasy, slippery, slurry-like animal diarrhea just waiting to be pumped
into my toilet bowl of a mouth, the sewer system of my body.

Men saw my erection bob here and there and laughed.

The stranger dipped his gloved hand in, careful to not breathe any of the
dogshit odor in himself, and swished it around, trying to make it a uniform
slurry.  He brought a cupped hand up to my mouth and I strained to push my
head forward to sip it down.

It wasn't exactly a slurry, but more like legitimate, putrified diarrhea.
I've eaten runny dog shit a few times, diarrhea a few times, and while it's
certainly disgusting, I actually prefer the lovely, velvety texture of
really creamy dogshit.  The way it sticks to the roof of your mouth, the
different logs having their wonderfully pasty but slightly different
flavors and mouthfeels, the way you feel full swallowing down something
thick and heavy rather than necessarily watery and beady.

Well, this was definitely the texture of diarrhea.  Through the sopping
brown liquid I felt small chunks of both soft and firm bits of Mastiff shit
slip through my teeth and rub against my tongue before finally settling in
my cheeks.  A bit dripped down, and I looked down in slight panic -I hated
making a mess while eating, and I looked around for master's approval.

"Hey now, boy.  Your old man ain't here, you just eat.  Flush, flush,
flush.  Just keep eatin', I promise you'll make him real happy today."

My fears assuaged, I swished the dogshit slurry in my mouth a few times and
swallowed, having, to date, finally consumed the most foul, fermented,
runny, sloppy, slurry-like dogshit animal waste paste through my toilet
bowl mouth.  In some regards, I felt beyond a toilet now, I was a
legitimate sewage plant, eating and slurping and swallowing animal waste
products, garbage, refuse, bowel movements that had been left rotting in
the sun for weeks.
Unbelievably, I smiled.

"Thank you for the wonderful meal, sir.  Thank you."

I was hand-fed two more full mouthfuls of the Mastiff's bucketed dogshit
before the stranger moved the bucket behind me and started packing it back
into my organs.  They were already bursting, but I knew I had to fit the
rest of the bucket into my colon, and likely more.  I jittered in
anticipation.

When the gloved hand started pulling my rectum open again with a fistful of
dogshit, I moaned ecstatically.  In my restraints, I wished I could push
back against his hand to help him stuff the mess nice and deep, but my
range of movement was limited to a solitary one or two inches.  So I moaned
and wiggled, encouraging him to pack me nice and full.

A horse dildo, thick as a fist, was placed at the entrance of my ass, and
the flared head, easily five or six inches wide, was slipped in.  Luckily,
the dildo was nice and soft, and the flare made an excellent
reverse-buttplug.
"Push out now, boy.  We're gonna get this puppy nice and deep inside, and
see if we can't get any of this good stuff into 'yer small intestines."

I pushed down, hard.

The horse cock was stuffed into my colon with equal pressure, fully
blocking any of the combined mess of dogshit from running out behind it.
One inch, then two.  We arrived, inch by inch, at six, then seven, then
eight, and finally, the twelve inch montrosity sat just below what felt
like my stomach.  I strained harder, and the last two inches slipped in,
that I could feel the horse cock's silicone balls against my own.  My
asshole clenched around the invader hungrily, and the man just held it
there.

I should say, repacking shit, for any of you whose masters haven't managed
to force you to do it, can be very uncomfortable.  Like I said earlier,
it's an enema's discomfort multiplied by a hundred.  But a dogtoilet's
place isn't to be uncomfortable, it's to be a storage system for dogshit.
And my bowels gurgled and groaned as my colon tried to process what was
being backed up into my small intestines, but I just kept pushing back
against that horse cock because I knew my guts were meant to be stuffed
with raw animal sewage.  It was my duty.

The man held it there for a solid minute, rubbing my cheeks with his dirty
gloved hand.  It felt good, even though the shit was now clammy,
room-temperature against the globes of my butt.
"Alright, baby.  Don't lose any, okay?  We got a lot more to go."

"Yes sir.  Thank you so much, sir.  Thank you..."

In a slow, controlled movement, the man slid the horse dildo inch by inch
out of my torso.  I tightened, hoping that my hunched-over position would
let gravity keep all the dogshit inside.  I felt the swollen flare of the
horse cock head pass into my colon, and then through my second sphincter,
and finally it say just outside my rectum, where it plopped out with a
nasty pop.  It was immediately brought to me, where I dutifully licked it
clean.  I savored washing the bits and pieces of mixed dogshit off with my
tongue, knowing that this beautiful toy had touched and stuffed scum into
my internal organs far deeper than any human or animal cock had managed to
do before.  I was tasting a part of myself that was undiscovered.  I
worshipped that toy clean, wiping off the bits and pieces of runny dogshit
just behind the flared head.

Another bucket of shit, then another.  Then another.  I was forced to
swallow only a couple mouthfuls of each one, so that I could really learn
the flavors of each breed.  And then the bucket was inserted, carefully and
eventually, into my rectum, and pushed deep past my colon by that horse
cock toy.  I'd lick it clean, trying to distinguish which clumps of shit
belonged to which species of dog.  Then more.  Then more.

Bernese Mountain Dog.  Tibetan Mastiff.  Great Dane.  Rottweiler.
Doberman.  Dalmatian.  German Shepherd.  Golden Retriever.  Labradors.
Boxers.

They were all big boy dogs, with big buckets and dogbowls of waste to feed
me.  The feeding wasn't over quickly.  It wasn't an hour-or-two affair, but
over the course of six or seven hours.  The feeders would swap off.  The
men watching cycled.  Many of them jacked off, cumming over whatever bucket
of dogshit was in front of me, or blow their slimy cum loads on my back, or
on my face.  I ignored them, because I had one goal: engorging myself as a
sewage slave for dogshit.

I had no idea how much time had passed in this now-quiet room.  The only
sounds were the smacking of my lips, the sticky slap of creamy dogshit
inbetween my teeth, the muffled moans as I swallowed and felt these stud
dogs' bowel movements slide down my esophagus and into my churning stomach.


I burped.  It was dogshit.  Great Dane.  Fermented in the bucket for four
days.

I ate for another hour.  Burped again.  This time, it was the Chocolate
Lab.  Fermented in the bucket for three weeks.  This was really strong.
Putrid.  I giggled.

Finally, I was done.  My belly distended grossly to the ground, and my
feeder rubbed his shit-covered gloves over them softly.

"You nice and full, boy?"

"Mmmf."  That was all I could manage.  I was exhausted, dripping with
sweat, coated and covered and filled with dogshit.

A plug was placed into my rectum, and then strapped in with a harness,
locked with a heavy steel lock.  This way, I couldn't lose any of the
dogshit.  I cramped.  I was too full, and my stomach had been digesting
those fresh meals from a half-day ago for hours now.  I desperately had to
go.

I was released from the bondage gear and fell to my knees.  The feeder
left.  I was alone in an empty room.  It took me a full fifteen minutes to
stand up, on shaky legs, and I was a right mess.  My hair had clumps of
dogshit from different animals in it, my mouth still a kennel dumpster.
Countless loads of dogscum, slimy and rotting, had been shoveled into my
mouth and stuffed deep inside my interestines.  I was in a faraway place.

Master walked in, with a yawn.  He had given explicit instructions for
those men on how to complete my feeding.  He looked down at me, shivering
and coated in cold, pasty dog feces, and laughed.  He held up a key, the
very same one locking my plug and harness in place.

"Let's hit the road.  I'm starving.  You need to eat for the next few days,
and we can unlock you, give you that hot meal."  He pocketed the key.

I pulled the dogshit chunks out of my hair and swallowed them, and smeared
the rest off, licking my hands clean.  Afterwards, I was given a quick
rinse, so as not to stink up master's trucks, and we hit the road.

The first hour was torture.  My intestines were simply too full to be
comfortable, and after sixty miles of squirming and groaning, my master
stopped the car on the side of the road, and took out my shit-stained dog
bowl.

Naturally, Tank was allowed to feed me first.  So I ate, fresh from his
ass.  I'd never moaned so loudly for dogshit as I did on this feeding, it
was so much fresher, and wonderfully hot.  Dog internal temperature is a
bit higher than humans, so if you like eating fresher, hotter meals,
dogshit is definitely the way to go.  I savored it openely and loudly,
smacking my lips, sucking the bits out of his asshole and then dutifully
cleaning them.

I was unlocked and squat over the bowl.  The plug was pulled out, and I was
instructed to let loose only any amount I could eat and not spill any, so I
angled myself and shit into the dogbowl.  A slurry mess came out, filled
the bowl, and my plug and harness were inserted back into place.  Master
took ahold of the key and I began eating, happy to relieve myself of any
amount of intestinal pressure.

The next few hours were like this.  The pressure built, and I'd get out and
release, then eat.  I still only wore a towel.  Plug out, shit, eat what
comes out, plug in.  I didn't really eat out of hunger, but because I
needed relief from the monstrous amount of dog feces in my guts.  I was
completely in a daze.  I just ate.  My cock throbbed.  I wondered how many
times I could digest and redigest the same dogshit.  This was my first
pass.  I could still taste the different flavors and textures of the
different species that contributed to my feedings.

Finally, I tasted the familiar flavor of Tank's shit.  I was still full, so
I knew the dog-matching bowls from the start of the evening were finally
digesting, and I was excited to taste my second pass at them.  I devoured
Rottweiler shit hungrily.  I loved that dog.

We stopped at a rest stop and I ate.  I was ushered into the bathroom and
told to eat whatever I found.  A couple of men came in, and master had me
eat their shit through the gloryhole.  A toilet was full.  I dipped my
hands in and ate stranger shit from my cupped palms.  Every rest stop was
like this.  A part of me had missed human shit, especially sucking shit out
of a hairy stranger's swollen asshole.  We must've hit four or five rest
stops, and master made a point to make sure I was tasting something both
fresh and old from each one.

Finally, we made it home.

I was exhausted.  It was already the afternoon of the next day, and my
stomach had taken a beating.  I had lost count of the number of dogs'
rectums I had tasted, lost count of the full loads of fermenting and fresh
dogshit I had swallowed.  Digestion, then redigestion, and another
redigestion, maybe more?  By the fourth time I had eaten my own shit, it
was putrid and dark, a thick, buttery paste that stuck to the roof of my
mouth and wouldn't wash away.  It was still dogshit, though, so I did my
duty.  I had eaten shit from strangers at rest stops, swallowed sewage
sitting in toilets, scraped up off the truckstop floors with my bare
fingers, washed off toilet seats with my tongue.

"Whew.  Finally back.  I gotta go, boy."

I dutifully laid down, and master squat, his beautiful hairy asshole
pressing against my lips, and I inhaled deeply.  It was musky, manly, and
adult.

I loved this man.

"You have fun this weekend, faggot?"

I looked to my left.  Tank was curled asleep.  I hadn't failed my original
duties: every ounce, every chunk of shit inside that Rottweiler had made it
into my mouth in the course of this weekend.  And now master was ready to
feed me too.

"Yes sir, I loved it.  Please... let me eat more, sir?"

I pursed my lips around his sweaty, hairy asshole and he began to strain
against my tongue.

----------------------------------------------------------------[END]

This is my first written story, so go ahead and flush some feedback down my
throat.  Thanks for following along, fellow toilets.  Get out there and get
fuckin' eating.