Eternal Toilet Slave
Chapter 1: Last Night Of Freedom

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Romantic, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Magic, Lesbian, Heterosexual, Horror, BDSM, DomSub, FemaleDom, Rough, Humiliation, Sadistic, Torture, Group Sex, Harem, White Couple, White Male, White Female, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Squirting, Water Sports, Enema, Scatology, Cream Pie, Slow, Caution, Violent,

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1: Last Night Of Freedom - Unemployed and down on his luck, Jeremy gets picked up by a sexy Goth chick in a bar and goes home with her. The next morning, she asks him to be a toilet slave for her and all her housemates. He agrees! Only problem is...he doesn't have a clue what a toilet slave is!

"Bye, Mom." I hung up the phone.

My boxes were packed and the movers were scheduled to show up 8:00 Monday morning. Moving back home didn't appeal to me, but I had little choice--at least it would be free room and board until the recession ended. But thanks to Congressional "reform" of the telephone industry a few years ago, Megatelco had laid off 250,000 computer geeks in one fell swoop, so it was going to be a long wait.

I still had about $50 left over from my last--and final--unemployment check, and I had a weekend to kill. I figured I'd get a few hundred dollars for my old furniture at my apartment sale Saturday and Sunday, but nothing was certain. If it didn't sell, it'll become my future former landlord's problem.

I kicked a battered old COBOL/CICS programming manual across the floor and headed out down the street to Eddie's Pub.

I liked hanging out at Eddie's. It was a nice older pub for regular guys like me--in jeans and my favorite CSI tee shirt. No suits, yuppies, preppies, or skinheads, please.

They had a live deejay that night, like they usually do on Friday nights, playing good ol' rock and roll, guaranteed to keep the weirdoes away.

I got me a bottle of Guinness and stood to watch the crowd. There was a fair number of people on the dance floor gyrating to Bob Seger. I looked around to try and find someone to ask to dance.

What the hell? My eyes caught sight of this--girl--all in black, like a vampire or something.

Halloween was still a few months away, so I continued to scan the room. There was a nice looking redhead girl in jeans and a pink sweater standing up against the railing a few feet away from me, so I walked up and said, "Hi! I'm Jeremy. Care to dance?"

She looked at me and said, "No thanks. I have to go home and vacuum my rugs."

"Oh, okay, another time then," I said and returned to my spot.

I walked through the thin crowd over to the game room and played Pac Man for a while, surprised the antique still worked. I racked up 25,000 points until I ran out of quarters and headed back out into the main room again.

Oh shit! That girl in black walked right in front of me as I exited the game room. She was wearing a black top with a plunging neckline, bare back, bare midriff, and a short leather skirt with fishnet stockings. She had short, utterly black, hair that curved around her head to just above her ears and neck. Her navel ring sparkled from the spotlights above the dance floor. From the back, her head looked like a bowling ball. She had a black choker around her neck and a couple of black arm bands on her left upper arm. Whoa! Must be a dyke or something!

I walked up to the bar and got another Guinness and spied this cute blonde in faded jeans and a floral print blouse. I sucked in some courage and walked up to her. "Hi! I'm Jeremy. Care to dance?"

"No. I have to go home and wash my dog now."

"Oh," I said. "Okay then."

I walked into the back room that was a little quieter away from the main bar and the dance floor.

Finding an empty table, I sat and nursed my beer. A couple of guys were shooting pool at the other end of the room, and I figured I'd put my 50 cents in line for a game with the winner.

I looked around and--there she was again, sitting by herself at an adjacent table. What happened? Your lezzie date stand you up? Oh shit! I accidentally caught her eye. I instantly dropped my gaze and looked away. But I caught a closer look for a brief moment. Her nails were all shiny black, and--get this--she was wearing flat black lipstick on her thin tiny lips. Man! What a weirdo!

I shuddered and sipped my beer, then wandered back out to the main room again.

I found another spot against the railing looking onto the dance floor and just hung out for a while, watching the people. A slightly chubby girl came up to the railing next to me, so I said, "Hi! I'm Jeremy. Would you like to dance?"

"No thanks," she said. "You're not my type." Then walked away.

Jeez! It's not like I was proposing marriage or anything. Just a frigging dance.

I turned to walk in the other direction, and bumped into the vampiress. I almost spilled my beer on her.

"Hi," she said in a soft ethereal voice.

"Hi," I said, backing away to go around her.

"You're not exactly my type, but you wanna dance?"

I met her piercing brown eyes and said, "Okay." What else could I say after what I had just been thinking?

This refugee from The Addams Family was exactly my height, and I'm no shorty at 5'10", but she was anorexically skinny. Her skin, though, was nearly as white as ash. With my Irish complexion, people often remark how white my skin is, but I was golden compared to her skin. Well, it's just one dance; I don't have to touch her.

We walked out onto the sparse dance floor and waved our arms and legs around to It's Raining Men.

The song ended and then the deejay started playing Layla.

"Thanks for the dance," I blurted as couples began to grope each other for the slow song.

"Hey!" She grabbed my arm. "You think I'm going to bite?"

That's exactly what I was thinking. "No, uhm, of course not."

She lifted her arms up as if to put them around my neck and waited. What could I do? I walked into her and put my arms around her waist as she draped her arms around my neck. Normally I'd be thrilled, but in this case, try as I might, it was impossible to avoid putting my hands on bare female flesh in her skimpy outfit.

The funny thing is I got instantly hard--it's been a while since I had a girlfriend or slow-danced with a girl.

"Mmmmm," she cooed as she snuggled her chin on my shoulder as we shuffled around the dance floor. Her body felt so light as I steered her this way and that.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Julie. What's yours?"

I gazed for a moment at the metal stud in her tongue and thought to myself, you will be assimilated, resistance is futile. I answered, "I'm Jeremy. You like the music here?"

"I wish they'd play something by Misanthrope, or Children of Bodom, or even From Autumn To Ashes, or at least Rammstein once in a while."

"Oh," I said, "That would be nice."

"You never even heard of those groups, have you?" she asked.

"No. I'm more into Loreena McKennitt, Maire Brennan, Sinead O'Connor, Irena Santor, Enya, Faye Wong, Sarah Brightman..."

"Hah!" she laughed. "I've never heard of any of those people, so I guess we're even."

We continued to talk about the music that the deejay had been playing--or not playing.

Then, as if Layla wasn't a long song, the deejay followed it with another eternal groper. Julie squeezed me even tighter. For a skinny girl, she sure seemed strong. She rubbed her pelvis against mine, rolling my boner around between us as we danced.

"You live around here?" she asked.

"Yeah. Just down the street. But not for long."

"Why not?"

"Well," I began. It wasn't like I had a snowball's chance of getting inside her pants, even if I had wanted to, so I said the last thing that a guy would tell a girl who he wants to make time with. Telling her the truth, I knew, would make her want to lose me quick. "I lost my job six months ago, and my unemployment just ran out. I got no friends or anyone around here, so I'm moving back home with mom on Monday."

She shuddered. "Oh? You're lucky." A tear flowed down her cheek.

"Why? I hate having to crawl back home like a lost puppy because I didn't plan for hard times. It's humiliating."

"My mom and dad divorced when I was four. My dad raised me. He's as straight as you. I never knew my mom."

"I'm sorry," I said, choking back a tear of my own.

I couldn't believe it when she turned her face up and licked the tear off my cheek.

She turned her face as if expecting me to do the same, so I did. I licked the salty tear off her cheek. Maybe she's human after all.

Then, I don't know how it happened, our lips were pressed together so tightly. That stud on her tongue felt weird every time my tongue slid over it. We danced the rest of the slow song in a total lip-lock.

Then, all too soon, the song ended and the deejay started to play a faster song.

Still standing on the dance floor in a tight embrace, she whispered in my ear, "Don't get the wrong idea; I mean, you're still not my type..."

"Yeah, but?" I asked.

She rolled my boner against her crotch and said, "You wanna take me home?"

"I..." I stammered, struggling to get the "yes" out. I'd never received such a forward invitation before and I wasn't prepared for it.

Then she stuck her tongue in my ear and licked all around the ridges for a few seconds. Oh God! I almost had an orgasm standing right there!

"C'mon! I promise you a night you've never had and never will again. Don't pass it up."

I couldn't take a woman home to my place in the state it was in. Of all the rotten luck to meet her at this time in my life.

I sighed, and said, "But I can't. My place is all packed up and everything. All I have is a sleeping bag for the weekend."

"Then come home with me," she said, and nibbled on my ear once more.

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