Anyone looking in at their relationship from the outside would probably think that it was abusive, Oliver was sure of that. He held a different opinion, as did his slave Brea. That’s not to say he didn’t abuse her - he most definitely did. But he did it because she liked it, and it had taken a long time for him to find someone who shared his deviations. She often told him that she had never been as happy as she had been in the year since he had taken ownership of her, and she knew to never ever lie to him. It was enough to assure him that what he did wasn’t bad.

Brea was a good slave and she usually made him very happy and proud of her. She had learned very quickly not to ‘accidentally’ fail at something in the hope to be punished. If she wanted that, she could just ask for it and if she had been a good girl he would usually grant the request. Failure made him unhappy, and that wasn’t something she would do to him if she could avoid it.

So when she failed him big time, he wasn’t just angry but also very surprised.

Oliver had created many rules for his slave to live by. Most of them were easy for her to follow, some not so much. As long as she did her best to follow them and failed due to outside interference or limitations of her body, she would be punished but the punishments weren’t harsh.

One of the tightly regulated things in her life were everything that had to do with hygiene and toilet usage. It was a source of constant embarrassment for her, especially because she had had issues with bed wetting until she was about 12 years old, and received much derision and punishment from her mother because of it. Now she needed to request permission to empty either her bladder or her bowels, to use the toilet to do it, and to remove her clothes. She never was allowed to clean herself up, her owner would do it if he wanted to. Usually she received permission, but not always. Then she would have to hold it, and if she didn’t manage to, Oliver would usually keep her in her soiled clothes for a while before cleaning her up as part of her punishment.

Sometimes she would get permission to empty her bowels but not to use the toilet, and she would have to do it on the floor. She hated it when that happened, not only because of the embarrassment of being watched while she shit on the floor like a dog. Her owner would also make her clean the mess up using her bare hands, and sometimes when he was in the mood he would also make her her play with the revolting mess and not let her clean up for the rest of the day.

It wasn’t that he liked the shit play for itself. He felt it was as disgusting as she did. However, he was turned on by making her do things she didn’t like. And on the other side, she loved it when he did things to her or made her do things she hated. It might sound crazy, but both didn’t care to analyze it any more than knowing it was what made them happy.

Whenever she left the house without him, Brea could not obtain permission. She wasn’t allowed to call and ask, she just had to keep it in until she arrived back home. She did however have the option to request to be diapered before leaving if she thought she might not be able to hold it long enough. That didn’t give her permission in any way, and she would be punished if she made a mess in the diaper. However, it would spare her the humiliation of wetting her pants in public.

On the fateful day, Oliver left the house before Brea left for a shopping trip, and she completely forgot to ask for a diaper before he left.

The day was nothing special. Oliver, while usually working from home, had to go to the office for a long meeting. Still, he was home before Brea returned, as the shopping list he had given her was a long one. She put the purchases away and then cooked dinner.

He ordered her to eat her portion from the dog bowl. He loved watching her do that, because she always had to be naked when she did. The position would make her stick her ass in the air and he could see her cunt slowly start to glisten from the wetness that resulted from the humiliation. Often by the time she was done, some drops of cunt juice would hang down from her pussy like suspended on strings.

This time, while enjoying the view, he also noticed something else.

“So, how come you have shit stains on your ass, little slave?” he asked as she was kneeling in front of him. Usually that was when he cleaned up her face, so she hadn’t expected the question.

“I, I, I ... I failed you sir”, she told him. Tears started running down her cheeks.

“Explain.”

“It ... I forgot to ask for a diaper before you left, sir. I didn’t remember until after you were gone. And then, in the mall, I got cramps in my bowels. Maybe something I ate. So I knew I couldn’t hold it in. And I ... I panicked. I went to the toilet.”

“So ... you knew you weren’t allowed to do that. Why did you?”

“I’m not sure, sir. It was panic. I just knew that I would shit in my pants and people would see that. And I had to go to more stores and they would throw me out. And, and, ... I’m sorry sir.”

“So you went to a toilet without permission.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you pulled down your pants and panties without permission.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you shit without permission.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you pissed without permission, too?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you cleaned yourself up, albeit badly, without permission.”

“Yes, sir.”

It wasn’t too surprising that she failed at wiping her own butt. After all, she hadn’t done it for over a year, now. But maybe, he thought, it was also because she wanted to be caught.

“Tell me one more thing. If I hadn’t noticed and asked, would you have told me?”

“I ... don’t know, sir. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Well, be happy that I asked and didn’t wait if you would talk. You know how that might have ended.”

She knew. It was one of the first and most important rules. Should she ever lie to him, be it directly or by omission, their relationship would be over. It was why she wouldn’t have dreamed of answering the question dishonestly, even if it made her look bad.

That night, he made her sleep under the bed. It was dirty, the floor was hard, and it was cold. He only did that to her when he was very unhappy. He told her that he would think about her punishment and tell her in the morning. She had not been allowed to clean up.

He didn’t understand why she had done it. Yes, she was in a situation that was new to her. In all their time together she had only shit herself twice when outside the house, and in both cases she had worn a diaper. But no matter what, she knew the rules and she never broke them if she could manage not to. Maybe, he thought, it was because she always was so good. He never had to dish out harsh punishments, so maybe some part of her didn’t believe he would. Maybe that part wanted to test him.

No matter what the reason might be, he would have to react with determination. If he didn’t, the relationship they had could not survive. Of course, he felt that if he went through with his plan she would break up with him at once.

A few times during the night, he was woken by the sounds of his slave crying from under the bed.

In the morning, Oliver woke up with a full bladder and a hard-on as was often the case. He pulled his slave out from under the bed, made her kneel in front of him and fixated her head between his leg, with his dick in her mouth. The ritual was very familiar to her, and it gave her hope that he hadn’t given up on her yet. She would be required to make him cum without being able to move her head. Then, after she swallowed his sperm, the penis would soften and he would be able to piss down her throat. It had taken a few months of training, but she was now able to swallow it all without gagging. She was proud of that and thought her owner was, too.

Afterwards he left her kneeling in position while he went to take a shower. He prepared his breakfast and made her kneel next to him while he ate. She was left hungry.

The general rules for punishments had been established when they first got together, and they were simple. During a punishment there were no safewords and no way for her to get out of it. For that reason, he would explain what would happen in detail beforehand, and she would have the option to accept the punishment or to end the relationship. So he explained what he had planned, and was sure that it would be the last he would ever see of Brea. She had different thoughts.

“Sir, I accept your punishment without reservation. Thank you for giving me this chance, sir,” she said.

The first sentence was part of the ritual. With her acceptance, the last chance to escape the punishment was gone.

Preparation had taken almost the full day. He had to build a few things and get others from a nearby BDSM store and a friend of his who was a EMT and liked to play doctor with her girlfriend. All the time, Brea stayed in position without moving. She didn’t receive anything to eat or permission to relieve her bladder, but whenever Oliver needed to pee he would stop by and use her mouth. So at least she didn’t go thirsty.

In the afternoon, he fetched her and showed her the contraption he had built. Marcy, the EMT, was also in the room and looked it over with interest. Brea wondered if her girlfriend would soon make a similar thing’s acquaintance. To her it looked like a simple coffin. It was a wood box with wooden walls. The lid was in multiple parts about half a meter wide, however, so it could be partially opened. Next to the box was a toilet seat with a frame that allowed it to be fitted into the hole left when one of the lid parts was opened.

Oliver took a shaving machine and cut off all the hair on her head. She was a bit sad to see her long blond hair fall to the ground, but it didn’t really matter. She had let it grow longer because her owner liked it, and if he now wanted it gone then it had to go. Maybe at some point he would want her to grow it back. For now, it was all about skin contact.

Brea lied down on her back in the middle of the box. By now her bladder was painfully filled and being stretched out made it cramp, but she knew she wouldn’t have to hold it in for much longer. Oliver used pipe brackets that he had inlined with fabric to fixate down first her legs in a spread fashion, then her arms next to her body, and finally her throat. They weren’t close-fitting, just enough so she couldn’t slip out.