As happens in all relationships, Jill and Brent had a heated argument one day, this one about Jill’s religious beliefs. It started in the car, when in response to something Brent had said, Jill replied, “You don’t really believe dinosaurs lived millions of years ago, do you? God created this earth only two thousand years ago!” Brent was beside-himself, shocked. He knew Jill to be devoted to her faith, but had never really asked exactly what those beliefs were. It rocked him. He was thinking of Jill as potentially a life partner, marriage, kids, the whole white picket fence thing, and this new information threw up an enormous red flag. Brent wasn’t even sure he believed in God, but he did believe in science, and the science said Jill’s beliefs were not just wrong, but erring on the lunatic religious side, far right evangelicals, holy rollers, speaking in tongues, homosexuality as a sin kind of people. Jill defended her beliefs, Brent railed against them, hardly believing Jill could be saying these things. Of course, Jill had her reasons. Finally, Brent packed a bag, and spent the night at his office, which was comfortably furnished. He decided to put together an email, still reeling, in which he said some mean things about Jill’s beliefs, questioning her intelligence, throwing around science, links to articles taking apart her faith. Poor Brent. To be this stupid, this unaware of exactly what Jill could do, if she put her clever, devious mind to it. In the email, Brent, feeling hurt, deceived, went so far as to say he felt like something floating around in her toilet bowl, how he couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating now than kissing Jill’s feet, the feet of someone so clearly uninformed and uneducated. What an idiot he was! For wasn’t that exactly what Brent loved, more than anything? And didn’t Jill, of all people, know that? Sending off the email, Brent unintentionally booked an appointment with Jill’s toilet bowl, but of course he was completely unaware of that. 

Jill being Jill, read the email, and saw it as an opportunity to do a couple of things. One, demonstrate to idiot Brent exactly why he should never, ever, ever impugn or insult her, and two, move her plan forward. Brent had fallen into her trap, for of course Jill had created this situation, and it was now time to spring that trap. Pretending to be chastened, pretending to miss him, she replied in conciliatory tones, begging him to come home, promising to talk about their differences in a reasonable way. Brent fell for it, of course. And the Jill who greeted him at the door, dog leash and collar in hand, a smile on her face, commanding him to get down on all fours immediately, was a Jill he hadn’t seen before. But he would see more of this Jill after that email. He would see a lot of things he had never seen before, after that mistake of an email. He promptly obeyed her, and Jill fastened the collar around his neck, saying, “Good boy. Now crawl on all fours like the dog you are. My dog.” Brent felt one of his fantasies spring to life, among other sprung things, and he did as he was told, crawling at Jill’s ass, watching it swing back and forth as she headed for the stairs, leash in hand, leading him. 



At the stairs, Brent started to stand, and Jill hit him lightly with the leash end, saying simply, “Down. You crawl, dog.” And Brent, with some difficulty, managed to get up the stairs on all fours, looking up at the soles of his master”s shoes, as she climbed ahead of him. At the top of the stairs, Jill looked at him, smiling. “Good boy. Now kiss my ass dog.” Brent buried his head reverently into Jill’s ample ass, bare under her sun dress, and kissed it passionately. “Good boy,” she said, and lead him into the bedroom. 

Continuing to keep him collared and leashed on the floor, Jill, now on the bed, instructed him. “If I let you on my bed dog, you have to obey me, do whatever I say. Do you understand boy?” Brent eagerly nodded his head. “Yes master, I’ll do as you say. Whatever it is.” Jill smiled. “Good boy.” She lay back. “Get your tongue in my vag, and work my G spot. And if you can’t find it, there will be a problem. Understood dog?” Brent immediately obeyed, and spent a good deal of time between Jill’s legs, licking, sucking, probing, responding to Jill’s moans like a very good boy.

Pleased, and turned on, Jill commanded him to enter her, and they pumped away to mutual orgasms, Brent happy he satisfied her, happy their fight was resolved, Jill beginning to put together his punishment in her head. A little smile played on her face as she constructed the plan. 

Steering the conversation towards their sex play, after good sex, she encouraged Brent to suggest further activities they could engage in. She knew exactly what he would say, but wanted his punishment to seem like it was his idea. Jill loved putting her words in someone else’s mouth, like they were her puppets. And it would add to Brent’s punishment, knowing he suggested the very thing Jill was going to do to him. 

“Well,” Brent started, “there’s always pissing on me, that’s humiliating, and when you did it before, it was disgusting, but it really added to our sex play.” He was referring to an episode where Jill, after they had sex on the floor in the living room, squatted over him, and before he knew it, peed on his belly, smiling her little smile. Once he knew what was happening, he lay back, accepting it, and in the end Jill stood up, laughing, wiping her piss-soaked and dirty bare foot on his cheek, saying, “In your face!” Brent found that arousing, and after showering, took Jill to bed, where they spent a lovely afternoon. “After all,” Jill said later, in bed, “really it’s just water.” But in her head, she was thinking, “Ha, I made you my toilet bowl, hahahaha! And it won’t be the last time I do, you piece of shit!” Jill was in her element, her campaign in full gear, Brent was in play, and she was luxuriating in it. She was creating a master work, a living memorial to her power, and she was unchecked in her desire to see it through. And that Brent had no idea she was doing it made it even sweeter. She was indeed a genius, and only Jill knew it. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Pissing on you, what a great idea!” Bounding off the bed, leash in hand still attached to his collar, she exclaimed, “Come doggy, were doing that right now. Heel!” And with that she led a crawling, leashed, naked Brent into the bathroom. 

Among other things, Jill was blessed with the kind of voice that matched exactly what she was wanted to say, emotionally, rationally, in every sense. And right now it was her in charge voice. She could have made a fortune in the phone sex business, it was a serious talent. In her most imperious tone, pointing, she commanded Brent; “Get your head in my toilet bowl, now!” Without even thinking, Brent immediately obeyed, finding himself face to face with the inside of Jill’s toilet, head down, smelling the rankness of it, but not moving. Jill smiled seeing this, happy she had managed to get him where she had planned with just the right tone. “Stay there, you piece of shit, don’t you dare move!”, she demanded, laughing her head off inside, thinking of what came next. 

With her foot planted dominantly on his upper back, she asked, “Enjoying yourself pig? Like being in my toilet bowl? Isn’t that where people put their shit anyway? You belong in there!” And with that, she slowly, taking her time, knowing she could, squatted over him. As she lowered herself, Brent was shadowed by her considerable ass, losing any light he had had. In darkness, a bit excited, a bit unsure, he waited on Jill to do what she wanted, knowing at least that much, that Jill was going to do whatever pleased her, and he was going to accept it. It was a punishment. And naturally Jill knew that too, she created this situation in her mind and watched it happen in real time. She held the upper ass, you could say; quite literally. And that ass was now bare, squatting over a toilet bowl, with the head of the man who questioned her intelligence inches away from her asshole, And better yet, he was willing, perhaps even eager, to have her do whatever she wanted on it. She almost squealed with pleasure knowing she had made him suggest it, that she do what she was planning to do anyway. She allowed herself a small smile at the victory, a satisfied, smuggy mile, while she deliberately made him wait under her.

“Now, what should I do,” she wondered aloud, enjoying Brent’s ass wiggling uncomfortably in front of her, placing her hands on it. “You know, This would make a really great book holder, maybe even a candle or two, when I have one of those long, lazy dumps, just reading, enjoying emptying the old bowels. On you, of course. Doubt even a piece of shit like you would enjoy that. Then again, you’re shit, so more shit shouldn’t bother you too much right?” She laughed at that, immensely enjoying Brent’s humiliation, his disquiet, his uncertainty. He has this coming, she thought. And I’ll make sure to pin it deeply into his psyche. Another few nails in the coffin of his freedom, another few steps closer to outright owning him.

Brent was in uncharted territory. He was excited, but shit. Shit! He was ok with pee, you showered, it was gone, done. But shit? What was he doing in the toilet bowl, and even worse, he had agreed to do it, had even kind of suggested this. But that was pee, not shit, he thought. Shit! Would she really do it, this church girl? Was she really going to shit on him?

Jill was just then wondering the same thing herself. She thought maybe that might be moving faster than was advisable, wouldn’t want Brent to get disgusted by getting shit on and back off, rethink the whole domination thing. No sense ruining all the work done so far only to blow it by taking him too far, too fast. She could shit on him any time she wanted to anyway, she thought. And he’s not moving, not complaining, so maybe he wants me to do it. Better he come out from under me a bit disappointed; peed on, my pee dripping off his face, my toilet bowl stink still in his nostrils, but disappointed. It will give me another card to play, and it will look like I was merciful. I could have shit on him, he knows it, I know it, I didn’t. She thought to herself, it gives me even more power! Decided, she pushed his head lower into the bowl with her ass. “If any of this gets on me, you’re licking it off, understand, you piece of offal?” Meekly, Brent whispered, “Yes, master”, and prepared himself for this unexpected, unpleasant ordeal; Jill calling him shit, then making him hold her shit. Even her shit dominates me, he thought miserably. Then it began.

At first, Brent thought, this is just the pee before the storm, it’s really nothing, if I wasn’t actually in her toilet bowl. The pee cascaded down his face, it was a heavy stream, and seemed to go on forever. Finally, went the bowl was full and yellow, and stinking of it, it stopped. Brent tried to remember, do you usually shit while you’re peeing, or after? He thought while but maybe everyone’s different. He didn’t move. He was unsure if he wanted it to go on, or not. It didn’t matter, it’s Jill’s decision, he thought. Wrong again. “How’s that toilet bowl? You like being my toilet bowl Brent? You enjoying this, you piece of garbage? You toilet bowl! Are you? Answer me!”

“Are you done up there Jill? Please tell me you’re done!” 

“And if I wasn’t done? If I decide to drop a boatload of fresh, steamy hot shit on you? Does a piece of shit like you really mind if I do? You should just pray I don’t make you eat it!” She then  appeared to hesitate.

“I’ll tell you what Brent,” she said, “I’ll let you out of there with just my piss, if you beg. But only if it’s sincere. And while you’re doing that, do not forget to thank me for putting you in my toilet bowl in the first place, making you my toilet bowl, how you’re more than happy to serve me in that capacity whenever I want. Now let me hear you beg, and beg well; if I don’t think it’s sincere, I’ll start shitting on you before you finish. And then I’ll make you thank me for doing that too. Now beg, piece of shit!”

Brent begged. “Please Jill, I’m begging you, please don’t shit on me, I’ll do anything you want, I understand I was wrong to say those things about you, I’m so sorry, it will never happen again, I promise. Please master, show mercy, even though I don’t deserve it. I promise to kiss your ass, even your asshole, a thousand times if that’s what it takes for you to forgive me!”

Jill, over him still, considered. That was pretty good. He begged, I got him to promise to kiss my ass and even my asshole one thousand times, and that takes him further down the path, doesn’t it? Yes, it definitely does. I’ll enjoy those kisses very much, she reflected. He can kiss my ass while I read religious forums online, and I’ll make sure to mention that’s what I’m doing. I’ll read them aloud while he’s kissing my asshole. Maybe I’ll have an “accidental” fart or two, eat beans that night. Yes, this worked out well, she thought. But I’m not through with him yet. Time to show him his place. But first, this:

“You forgot to thank me Brent, thank me for using you as my toilet bowl, and tell me you are, and always will be, whenever I want. Say it!”

“I’m sorry master. Thank you for allowing me to be your toilet bowl, I am your toilet bowl, now and forever,” Brent mumbled, the porcelain amplifying it.

Good enough, Jill thought. I should be recording this stuff! Blackmail! Not that I need it, he’s already mine to do with as I please. Besides, too basic, too easy. With that thought, she rose off him, wiping herself, dropping the soiled toilet paper on Brent’s head with a gesture of contempt he couldn’t see. Just for good measure, spontaneously, she pushed his head deep into the pooled piss with her big toe for a second, holding it there with her foot, giggling while she did it. Yes, he’s mine, she thought, he just doesn’t know it yet. When Brent started to struggle, she lifted her foot. He’s probably grateful, haha, she thought. He’s mine. I own him.

For more, here’s the link:

 https://www.amazon.com/Under-Jills-Feet-Running-Exactly-ebook/dp/B07Y5FZ6X8/ref=sr_1_74?keywords=Foot+fetish&qid=1569088126&s=books&sr=1-74

The book is free today, September 28th, if you might like to read more. Enjoy! 🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂