Toileted: the Return to San Ramiro

Warning/disclaimer: Story contains graphic and extreme sexual fetish activity, including toilet play. If this is not your kink, do not proceed.

Most of my friends, old college bro-brah type buddies, if they knew I was part of an elite secretive swinger's sex club with nearly a hundred drop dead, gorgeous women, would be insanely jealous. They have met Aurora, my current girlfriend, of course. The girl of my dreams, who I met out there, and who, on those occasions when we are around the old oly-stubbie drinking brew crew, is supremely cute, fun and flirty. They see me as a guy with a hot girlfriend who goes to an island full of beautiful models to swap partners with more beautiful women. So yeah, they probably are jealous of me. Unless they find out the whole story. Aurora has dropped little hints now and again, that I pick up on and cringe at (which makes her smile) but so far, the rest of the guys don't suspect a thing.

Yes, I am part of a swinger's sex club. It is in a gorgeous setting, a private island off the coast of Santa Barbara. Yes, there are many, many drop dead gorgeous women here, who come here for the express purpose of getting laid by hot, hunky guys. And yes, the parties out here are wild and outrageous. But how did an average guy like me, clearly not your typical underwear model, end up involved with this scene?

Well, ahh, that's the secret. Part of that is Aurora's fault. If it were not for her, I would have actually found my way out of this mess long ago. So, why would any unmarried young man in his sexual prime want to leave a swingers club full of hot women? Well, that's just it. Other people there, including Aurora, get to have all the sex they have the endurance for, going all night with multiple partners.

Me, I get none. Ever. And this is by Aurora's choice. In fact, I seldom even get the chance to orgasm! Except in front of her, on rare occasions, as a "Reward for good behavior." My blissfully clueless college bro-brah buddies who are so jealous of me- they actually get laid far, far more than I do.

There are four classes of people on this island. Those who are "In Heaven" get all the sex they can with whomever agrees to hook up with them, along with all the full benefits of membership. Those who are "In Purgatory" are temporarily banned from any sexual activity and other benefits due to some transgression. The council who oversees the club, led by the billionaire owner of the island himself, weighs in on the punishment and the duration. Those who are "in the Abyss" are people who are either 'eighty sixed" from the club, or those who, when they petition to join, are judged unworthy of membership for whatever reason and not allowed in.

Then there are those "In Hell." These are the ones who do all the grunt work on the island; the cooking, cleaning, and maintenance, while still being considered members. The catch: The seven "Sisterhood of the Lash" rules over them, overseeing their work, and subjecting them to physical punishments if they do their work poorly. Meanwhile, when the chores are done, the Sisterhood of the Lash get their kicks playing dominatrix over them, subjecting them to humiliating and degrading punishments and tasks, for the amusement of them and the rest of the guests. And they are not allowed any sex, at all, with anyone on the island. Ever. In fact, they are forced to wear a locked metal cage around their cocks at all times, to prevent them from having sex with anyone when they are NOT on the island.

As you guessed, Aurora is one of the Sisterhood of the Lash, and I am "In Hell." Why would any sane man put up with this kind of treatment? Well, many don't. These are quickly sent to "The Abyss" and ejected from the community, partly so as to avoid any kind of legal non-consent issues. And there are some put up with it out of fear, embarrassment, and, at least partly, the inability to remove their metal chastity cage (which doubles as a shock collar if any slave ever gets too disobedient.) As it happens, one of the members of the Sisterhood of the Lash also works at the one and only local sex store, where these devices are custom made for the slaves of the island. But there are some, men like me consigned to a hell of whips, chains and humiliation at the hands of beautiful women, who seem to enjoy it, in ways that are hard to explain.

Me? That first night there, when I was brought before the council and subsequently condemned me to Hell, I wanted so badly to simply be eighty-sixed. But yet, somehow, over the course of days, even weeks, Aurora and I; we just bonded. I loved her wit, her persona, thought she was beautiful and fun, and we had common interests. And oddly, I soon realized that I took a perverse enjoyment out of the treatment I received there at her hands, and instead of making me hate her for it, as most sane guys would, I oddly became more attracted to her over it, and the bond became deeper.

Sometimes, it was fun playing "Mistress and servant." She was the hottest girl I could ever wish for as a mistress, I'll give her that.

There is something so powerful about being vulnerable, on your knees, in front of a strong woman. She taught me this. It's indescribable, a mix of fear, lust, and a total peace with myself. So over time, I accepted this, even though I found myself doing things for her that would have sickened the "old me."

There is an old flame of mine, an old crush, who I still see from time to time on the island. She was a former co-worker, blonde, petite, tanned, and really sexy. She used to flirt with me back in the day, but I was too shy to know how to proceed. Her name was Melanie. Aurora knows about this, and of course that gives her ammunition to torment me. I don't care about her anymore though; I now only have eyes for Aurora, and nobody else.

And I proved that to her, one special night.

I should talk a little about what life is like for the slaves. We come out here on evenings a couple times a week for a few hours, and on weekends for party times. Mostly, during the weeknights, it's cleaning and laundry type stuff, small errands, chores, and so on. The girls inspect our work and if they don't approve, we get strapped to the wall and flogged. (And of course, sometimes they flog us anyway, always finding excuses to do so, simply because it's fun for them.) At first, it was Kayla, Arielle and Danielle, along with Aurora, who would administer my punishments, but eventually, Aurora took that mostly on herself, saying "This one is MY responsibility." While we work, we wear humiliating pink frilly shorts, with an opening in the rear, to show our station. And of course all of us wear the metal cock cages. Any hint of willful resistance, they have the ability to literally bring us down on our knees. The cages are linked to an electrode that can be remotely operated. Aurora has the key to my cage, and the "Zapper button" to make sure I don't have second thoughts about submitting to her disciplinary ways, or even disobeying her orders. I don't, believe me. Getting zapped in the balls is not something you want to experience more than once. Plus, I have long gotten past that desire to resist. I really do want to make her happy.

But the things I would do, though! The first month, after she found out that I still had a crush on another girl on the island (Melanie) she ordered me to dress in drag, and suck her current lover's cock, right in front of everyone! I couldn't believe she was serious! But she was. Though of course I protested, it was no use. Doubling over in agony after a shock to my balls, I did the unthinkable.

Aurora has reassured me that performing a homosexual act for her, does not make me one myself. Not that there is anything wrong with it either way; I have no problem with gays, but it took all of the courage I could muster to do what instinctively made me convulse with horror. In a way though, I later realized it was kind of a turn on, to be subjected to such humiliating behavior purely for her sake.

So anyway, one day, she had arranged a special test for me. Though of course, I didn't know it at the time. I only knew that, that day, I needed some relief. The pressure in my loins was becoming unbearable. After having my cock locked in a cage, surrounded by hot girls all day and yet, not even able to even have an erection- it was torture! Plus waking up in the mornings with a boner that simply feels like putting your cock in a vise. She kept my cock resolutely locked up, and though I begged for a release- Just please, allow me the necessity of relieving some of the pressure!- She said no. "Good slaves need to earn their reward." She said. But that didn't stop her from deliberately flirting and teasing me, laughing about how I couldn't get a proper boner anymore. The day before, we had been out for dinner on the mainland, just like a normal couple. (Slave-mistress protocol was typically reserved for either on the island, or when we were intimate at home) She had gotten up on my lap and ground against me, until I moaned for her to stop. I would have probably cum my jeans at that point, had I not been caged. This only made her squeal with laughter. I dropped her off at home. We kissed, she invited me in, and we slept together. Only, she slept. With her laying against me, still caged, I couldn't sleep hardly at all and the warmth of her body next to me was like a torment. She had let me orally service her, and had even told me I was really good at giving head, but her rules, she said, were that her pleasure mattered more than mine. And I was fine with that. So...no penetration, not even a blow job. Nothing but nearly two weeks of pent up sexual frustration. She liked this, she said, because one of her sayings was "A horny man is easily led by his balls." I couldn't argue with that. With her, sometimes she meant that literally.

That was how our intimate lives worked, both on the island and off. Sometimes, it's better to give than receive, I guess. In most other respects though, off the island, we were just like any other romantic couple.

And the next day, we were both supposed to go out to the island again.

So, that day, I was finishing up cleaning the toilets in the second floor of the island's main mansion and party house, when Aurora strode in. She was wearing those knee high boots and that tiny red pleated skirt that drove me so wild when I first met her, that first day out on the island.

"Is that clean and sanitized?" She asked.

"Yes mistress."

"Prove it." She snapped.

I leaned over, and licked the rim of the porcelain.

"See?" I said.

She then raised her leg, and pushed my head into the bowl with the toe of her boot.

"NOW prove it."

I couldn't answer, my face underwater, but I gave her a thumbs up.

"Good little bitch toy!" She said, laughing in that flirty way I love so much.

"Hey, I have an errand for you." She said, suddenly.

"What's that? Yeah, whatever you need!"

"Arielle has reserved one of the private cabins for tonight, she has Tony and Gusher all lined up. But they want to 'toilet' Danny Binz for tonight. So I need you to take one of the slave toilets from the basement down to Cabin number two. And..." she added, "Make sure it's clean. Disinfected and clean. YOU know the drill."

"Yes Mistress!" I said eagerly.

I couldn't help but feel bad for Danny Binz, though. The guy probably didn't even know what was in store for him. First of all, out of all of the women who dabbled in the Dark Arts of Female Domination, Arielle was notoriously cruel and heartless toward the slaves. While others, especially Aurora, could be flirty, friendly and fun (When they were not cruelly ordering us around or administering punishments) Arielle never spoke to the slaves except to bark orders at them, and was always cold, imperious and cruel. She was also known as the most sadistic, and her corporal punishments knew no mercy. You didn't even want to look in her direction if you were a slave on the island. She would notice, and have you whipped for it. She didn't seem to have a "Favorite" slave, but I was always afraid that Aurora would "loan" me out to her, which thankfully she never did. Of course, to the other (non-slave) men on the island, Arielle was as bubbly, sweet and sexy as could be, especially around the man (or men) she had chosen as companions for that evening. But I knew poor Danny would be in for it tonight. Although, being "toileted" might not be as bad as what could happen. At least he would be locked out of sight in the bathroom and away from her wrath.

Only, to be "Toileted" was exactly what it implied, and either way, frankly it was kind of gross. Especially if you didn't have the stomach for it. You really had to be conditioned for it. I only hoped for his own sake, Danny was.

I walked through the opulent mansion, crossing the main ball room, through the office and opened the door leading to the "Dungeon" down in the basement. Here was where slaves would be punished or abused, should Arielle (or even Aurora herself) get the whim. Kayla was down here, giving the third degree to one of the slaves who had apparently screwed something up, but I didn't see who he was; in these situations I just averted my eyes. In a closet, I found one of the toilet contraptions under a plastic bag. I pulled it out to inspect it. It LOOKED serviceable, and pretty clean. The contraption consisted of a square box, maybe 20 inches high by 30 inches square, with a toilet seat on the top and a hole cut into the front of the box. For the hapless victim's head. Inside was a plastic bucket, with a similar hole cut out of it, and on the side were two metal rings, for handcuffs. There were two of these contraptions, who knows where the other one currently was- or who was imprisoned in it. It was simply not polite to talk about such delicate matters, Aurora had insisted. "People's private bathroom matters are not your business." She had told me once. Though, if it was YOUR head inside one of these things, it certainly WAS your business- and that of whoever was on the seat above you.

Tonight, apparently, it would be old Danny who was the unlucky one with his head inside this particular commode. So, I carried the toilet box up the basement stairs and out through the back door.

It was a warm afternoon on the island, with one of the typically warm breezes blowing through. There were a few people by the pool when I walked past. Gorgeous girls in bikinis sunbathing, guys with Chippendale bodies diving and swimming, and flirting with them. I would have fallen in love with any one of these girls, had Aurora allowed it. But yet...even without the maddening cock cage, I was realizing something- I was simply in love with Aurora.

The private cabins were located in the grove of trees overlooking the ocean and small beach on the southwestern edge of the island. The island was small enough- according to the USGS survey its total land mass was less than 200 acres- so that it was only a short walk from the main mansion and pool complex to the cabins. Though my arms still got tired carrying this stupid thing. One of those butch meatheads wouldn't have had this problem, I thought, shaking my aching arms. Oh well, if I had lifted weights more, maybe I would have BEEN one of those guys- and not in this predicament, I thought to myself sadly. Sometimes, from time to time I wondered how it much better it would have been if I wasn't in this position out here, if I had never been lured out here with the promise of sex with hot models to begin with. Well, I wouldn't have met Aurora, and my friends wouldn't have been so jealous of what they THOUGHT happened to me out here.

Cabin 2 was the largest and most luxurious of the four small cabins, but it was still small; only about 20 feet by 30 feet, with a back porch overlooking the water. I fumbled with the key to cabin number two, and opened the door. Before I could carry the box inside, I stopped still.

Melanie Woods, my old and long forgotten crush, was in there, sitting on the bed.

She smiled at me, the same beaming radiant smile that had driven me so mad back when we still worked together. How long ago and innocent that seemed. Now, I was the lowest of the low to her, a man who had even been degraded into performing a homosexual act of "Fluffing" her lover for her, to the sadistic amusement of the girl who currently occupies all my thoughts.

All those old thoughts came flooding back. I rarely saw her when she was out here. She understandably kind of avoided me. And man, she looked good. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she was wearing a blue bikini that left little to the imagination. Around her neck was a necklace with what appeared to be a metal key, but this detail momentarily escaped me. I was admiring her face, her half-naked body. Melanie Woods, my former crush, who I had never even had the chance to be with, sitting there radiant in the sunlight streaming through the full bay windows. My cock strained against its cage.

"Melanie!" What are you doing here!" I asked.

"Ben, oh my God! How have you been!"

"Great, but...you know..." I sighed. "Still running around like a mad road runner doing chores for Aurora. You know, she's actually really cool once you get to know her. So, how come you're here?"

"Oh... nothing," she said, dreamily. "I was just...resting here. I actually slept here last night. I love these little cabins, aren't they cute!"

I half wondered who she slept with here last night but decided not to ask; it wasn't my business anyway.

"Yeah man, these are great, so you booked this place last night, huh? Great views, and it's private and all, plus they even got a sound system and a kitchen.

"Yeah, but number two is the only one with a full kitchen. That's why I like it." She said.

"Well, I guess, it sounds like Arielle has it tonight. Arielle and I think Gusher Martin and...uh I forget. Vince DiNunzo I think."

I knew that it had been Tony that Aurora had mentioned, but I also knew that Tony and Melanie had hooked up many times, and I didn't want to say anything to make her suddenly jealous, so I let it drop.

"Oh yeah? Whose the lucky guy whose going to be in that?" She asked, pointing at the toilet box on the floor."

"Uh, Gusher!" I said jokingly. To be truthful, Frank "Gusher" Martin was kind of an asshole, at least I had thought so. He got his nickname, of course, from the many women who slept with him who all claimed that he was so fertile that he went off like a geyser each and every time he orgasmed.

"Wow, he heh, he'll probably like it. Do you think he'll like being peed on?" She asked.

"I don't know. Maybe you should ask him. I kinda doubt it. Frank's kind of a dick."

"Well yeah, but his dick's so, you know..." she said, blushing dreamily.

"I can imagine." I said, flatly. "Yeah, actually Danny Binz is going to be in this thing. I guess it doesn't matter if Danny liked being peed on..."

"He doesn't. Trust me." She interjected. (Wow, how do you know? I wondered.)

"Looks like he won't have a choice. I'd still rather that, than, you know, Arielle can get pretty vicious. I'm glad it's him rather than me."

"Listen," she said. "I think it's terrible what those mean girls have done to you. And I want to show you something."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Come here," she said seductively.

She reached for her necklace and held out the key attached to.

"You are wearing one of those chastity cage things around your dick, aren't you?" she asked, quietly.

"Yes, they make us wear them all the time."

"So I'm just wondering...you can be honest 'cuz I know this is kind of personal. But, how long has it been since you had sex?" She asked quietly.

"Oh geez..." I shook my head.

"How about, how long since had an orgasm?"

"Too long. Two weeks or more. How long for you?"