Testing Time for Slave

Mistress Maggie is finalising her designs for a new bathroom and looking to establish the most effective and efficient form of waste disposal. Naturally, being a caring sharing person, Mistress allowed me to help with her planning. I was to be the test bed for a couple of her ideas for keeping her toilets clean and well emptied. As one of Mistresses devoted slaves I was somewhat flushed with the thought of helping Mistress in her toilet quest.

I was hoping to give Mistress Maggie a pleasant surprise by duly arriving in my black latex briefs and tee-shirt underneath my outdoor clothes. It worked as Maggie had me take off all 'normal' clothing and parade in the Playroom before the formal start of the session. I received one of those truly disarming smiles that Maggie sometimes bestows on her fortunate slaves, accompanied by gentle stroking across the smooth rubber and then one of those impromptu hilarious moments that our sessions can generate.

Maggie was about to send me to the bathroom to prepare for session, mentioning that I should be quick because the bathroom was a little chilly today. I suppose I was trying to reassure Mistress that her slave was made of stern stuff when I quipped "I'm from Yorkshire. We're used t' cowd. I'm well 'ard." In that magical moment, we both realised what I had said. The latex undergarments had been working their magic for a while, I had received a major boost to my libido following Mistress upstairs in her plum latex top and black latex skirt, near enough to smell the heat from Mistress and, well, yes I was well 'ard. We both cracked out laughing as Maggie agreed after patting my encased bulge that, yes I was well hard! It set the tone for another memorable session.

Mistress proceeded to fit me into my heavy weight black latex catsuit and the butt plug that now slips, oh so easily, into its home. First Mistress wanted to make sure her toilet bowl was leak proof, I also had to be made leak proof before going in to check it out. All my zips were pulled up tight, my head sealed inside a snug latex hood and a wide eyed gas mask fitted, insulating me from the stormy elements about to head in my direction.

With my backside balancing on the last rung of the toilet bench, Mistress helped me into position inside the catchment tank. The preparations continued for Mistresses comfort by attaching mitts, rendering my hands useless, and the spreader bar threaded with the toilet roll. It is a strange feeling to gaze upwards and gradually have the toilet seat lowered and blocking out your sight.

I could hear Maggie drinking a couple of glasses of water and then the seat was lifted and the next vision was of Mistresses perfectly formed nether regions slowly descending and making herself comfortable with her intimate parts only centimetres away from my goggled and goggling eyes. I was then subjected to the most glorious and private side of Mistress that a slave will ever achieve as first a trickle then a flood erupted and showered over my frogman like head. Noah may have been worried by the flood but being from Yorkshire, I remained 'ard (very!). I have never experienced at that close range a Lady drying her private parts after a good pee and felt privileged that Maggie could share that with her slave.

The flood was safely captured within the bowl and I then had to consume the whole amount for recycling. Even though I say so myself, I was quite effective at pee removal, once the mask had been removed of course. I spent a while emptying the bowl and then cleaning the few drops that had splashed on the seat, surround and bench so it was ready for Mistresses next toilet visit.

Maggie seemed satisfied with that part of testing but wanted to test out an alternative flushing system. I was returned to the bowl without the mask but with a pair of the most viscous nipple clamps attached to the 'Tower of Pain’. The theory was that the clamps would be so tight that I would open my mouth in a long, silent scream and the waste fluids could then be consumed directly.

It worked, after a fashion. It was very difficult to concentrate on capturing the stream with the ever present pain and the visual distractions of Mistress gracefully covering the seat with her latex skirt, blocking most of the light. I had to locate the flow by sound and feel, sonar might have been appropriate for more accurate range finding - although sonar in a toilet bowl?  I've never seen that before.

Mistress took me through to the bathroom for a sponging down, happy that her toilet tester had answered some of her questions, but one or two still needed to be resolved, presumably by re-testing at a later date? I could only wonder at how Maggie could produce so much flow on two separate occasions. After all she is slim and petite but must have huge bladder capacity and control.

The second part of her design experiments took place in the clinic and involved the recycling capabilities of her toilet. I had been instructed to consume a full glass of water whilst in the bathroom and together with a

full tank of Mistress I knew I would need to pee in the near future. Mistress had that problem on her radar and fitted a catheter to her slave. No hiccoughs, one smooth action, strict cleanliness and sterile environment, procedure to follow and the snaky tube was in and inflated before you could say "I'm from Yorkshire . . . I’m well 'ard". Not that I could have said that, because I had been treated to Mistresses used red panties, stuffed in my mouth and bandaged in place inside the white rubber hood fitted for clinic work. It is amazing how efficient a pair of small panties can be as a gag but I was able to savour essence of Maggie whilst thoroughly moistening her smalls with a lot of my drool. Meanwhile, the contents of my bladder were being safely filtered into a drainage bag.

As occasionally happens Mistress gets really closely involved with slave treatments. The panty gag was stripped off and a black rubber anaesthetic mask strapped on in its place, Maggie used her own mask and joined me sharing a re-breather bag.

It is a really nice sensation that I have experienced on far too few occasions. Maggie breathes out into the re-breather and I breathe the sweet scent of Maggie that hangs on the recycled air. I am still a little rusty and I think I need a bit more practise in synchronised breathing. But it can be ever so distracting when Mistress decides its time to slide the catheter out of my cock and see if it can stay well 'ard after a good rubbing with her surgical gloves. Oh well, that is part of my slave training; to be trained to fit in with Mistresses rhythms.

Once again Mistresses thoughtful and caring side surfaced. Maggie knew that my mouth would be dry from moistening her panties and lack of fresh air, and suggested a small medicinal drink. The most convenient source was the little plastic bag that now held the re-cycled fluids from my emptied bladder. A measure was poured and the medicine was handed to me in a gallipot with the instruction to "drink it all up". Mistress wanted to record the event for the archive, but because I was so thirsty she missed the first draught, so I was treated to a second pot full and ordered to consume slowly and responsibly, always good, sound advice when drinking.

I am not sure either the pee recycling scheme or the self cleaning toilets will gain many investors on The Dragon's Den. Perhaps more product development and testing is required. I wonder if I can volunteer . . .