The Replacement
  • Author - Cuffed
  • Rating -   
  • Site Rank - 1456 of 2955
  • Story Codes - F-f, consensual, reluctant, bodymod, bondage, extreme, humiliation, mummification, slavery, snuff, watersports
  • Post Date - 11/22/2018

Author's Note: This is a fantasy I've had for a long time and played out in my head, with myself at various times as each character. It's just something I need to get down on paper (so to speak)!

Chapter 1

Girl leant forward over the kitchen sink to scrub a stubborn mark off the dish. With each movement of the sponge there could be heard a clinking sound as the thin steel chain between her handcuffs tapped the glass and crockery in the water. After years of wearing the cuffs (they had no keyholes, and were permanent), she had ceased to even notice when they made sound.

Satisfied, she straightened up and continued the washing, water splashing periodically against her chest and stomach. Being naked (it had been just as many years since she had been permitted to wear clothing) it didn't matter if it got on her.

It was a pleasant looking spring morning outside the window, and she looked forward to going into the backyard later to hang up Miss' clothes. Miss, she could hear in the distance, was in the bathroom, riding the toilet. From the moans it sounded like she might be finished soon, so girl dried her hands in preparation for serving Miss as she got ready for work.

Bending right down, she deftly stepped one leg and then the other through the loop of her cuffed arms, bringing her wrists up to the small of her back. The padlock, also keyhole-less, holding her outer labia closed swung gently from the lips as she straightened back up.

She walked to the kitchen door and knelt, hands cuffed behind back, knees together, eyes down, and waited for Miss to enter the kitchen on her way to the front door. She licked her lips with both split sides of her long, bifurcated tongue as she heard the telltale change in Miss's moans, signalling approaching orgasm.

"Fuck! Yes! Ugh! God yes, yesyesyesyesyes... ahh... ahhhh..."

Suddenly the sounds stopped. There was a pause. Girl's heart skipped a beat: something was wrong.

"What the fuck?! Fuck! God damn it!!"

Girl wanted to run to see what was wrong but knew she must wait to be ordered. It wasn't long.

"Girl! GIRL! Get the fuck in here!"

Rising from her kneel, Girl walked as quickly as she could to the bathroom, her vaginal padlock swinging and cuffs clinking with every step.

As she entered the bathroom she saw Miss, nightie pulled up to her waist and panties around her ankles, standing up from the toilet. Her red hair was already pulled into a ponytail and her makeup was on. As Girl had expected, she had been having a quick orgasm on the toilet before dressing and leaving for work.

"The fucking thing's died," Miss said, looking down at the toilet. "Right in the middle of riding it. I didn't even get to come!"

Girl looked at the toilet with a gulp. It was a unique shape: not a white porcelain seat with a a cistern, but rather a light grey statue of a thin young woman, kneeling with hands back, chest out, head bent directly upwards at an almost impossible angle, so that the face was flat and level. The mouth was very wide open, some marks of Miss' wetness on the concrete rim of it.

"Have a look at it girl, can it be fixed?"

Girl walked over to the toilet and looked down at it. It was mostly a concrete statue, with a couple of exceptions. Inside the open mouth was red and soft, with a bifurcated tongue sitting over the throat. And above the small concrete nose, a pair of unfocused human eyes, half-lidded, with slowly dilating pupils.

Girl tried to hold back a choked sob. "No Miss, it's... dead Miss."

"Fuck," said Miss. "Right before I could come. You'll have to finish me off girl, then I'll have to go buy a replacement."

Girl's heart sank. But she knelt before Miss.

"Yes, Miss. Thankyou Miss," she said, and began to lap either side of Miss' clitoral hood.

Chapter 2 (added: 2019/02/19)

After only a few minutes of diligently and consistently lapping her split tongue either side of Miss' clitoris, Girl felt her owner start to approach orgasm. Of course, she had already been close from riding the toilet, before it... broke.

Keeping her tongue in a well-practiced rhythm, Girl glanced over to the concrete statuesque form of the toilet, and the recently deceased slave girl contained within it. Her heart leapt to her throat just looking at it, and somehow she simultaneously felt thrills of excitement mixed with utter dread. Today was going to have a very different ending than she expected.

She heard Miss' breathing get faster, as well as her pelvis starting to rock. Returning all her attention to her task, she now started making firmer, quick licks right along the clitoris, gradually increasing speed until...

"Agghhh ffffuuuuuuckyesss yes yes yes yes yessssssss!" Miss groaned, her legs weakening as she came, then squeezed her labia around Girl's lower lip, a trickle of wetness running over it.

Girl stopped and looked up at Miss, keeping her mouth and tongue still, aching to move her cuffed hands around to the front and touch herself. A few seconds after Miss's hips stopped rocking, she started again with the firmer licking, rougher now, and was rewarded with Miss' second orgasm, far quicker this time. A third round, this time also giving one quick gentle stroke of her front teeth over Miss' clitoral good, and then Girl gently licked all around Miss' vulva and where some wetness had spread to her inner thighs. Then she sat back, kneeling, the padlock swinging from her vaginal lips making a 'clink' on the floor. She kept her eyes down and waited.

Miss bent down and pulled up her panties, then went into her bedroom to get dressed. A while later she came back in, Girl not moving a muscle the whole time.

"Alright girl get that uninstalled," she said, pointing at the cement, girl-shaped toilet, "and get the plumbing ready for the replacement. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Yes, Miss," Girl said shakily. "Thankyou, Miss."

Miss grabbed her keys and went out the door. As she heard the sound of the car starting, Girl stood up and struggled to get her cuffed hands in front of her, to start her next task.

Removing the cement-encased body from the plumbing was probably the easiest part; the toilet was connected in two spots, one pipe going into the vagina, and one into the anus. A hammer and chisel loosened both areas enough for Girl to work the toilet off them, rocking it side to side. Once it was lifted enough, she let it fall sideways with loud clanking sound. A little finer work was needed to chisel some cement-covered labia lip and the clitoris that had stuck to the copper pipe

With that done she half pushed, half rolled the once-living sculpture out through the back door. This was the hard part, and then of course came the hard work of digging a big enough hole.

During all this, utterly exhausted and panting from the effort, she couldn't deny the fact that she was soaking wet - and it had nothing to do with the sweat dripping off her. If her task wasn't complete by the time Miss returned, the consequences... well, she certainly knew the consequences. But she still couldn't help herself. She put down the shovel she was carrying and kneeled down on the grass next to the broken concrete toilet. The garden was fully fenced and private, of course. She looked into the toilet's lifeless eyes, permanently held open behind the clear glass. She had used the toilet many times, of course, and even ridden it. Whenever she had looked into its eyes back then it had at first been a pleading but resigned look, and over time a vacant stare. She slid a finger between the vaginal lips that were held loosely together by the padlock, and started stroking around her clitoris, finding it slick with wetness, and rubbed faster and faster as she watched those dead eyes. Despite the feeling of utter dread, she found herself imaging what it must be like being trapped in there forever, reduced to a bathroom fixture, with no one having any regard for her - not even enough regard to bother torturing her beyond placing her in the confines in the first place. Being used... utterly, and completely, dehumanised, to the point where even her death is disregarded except for the mild convenience it poses.

She was madly rubbing st her clitoris now, knowing that time was slipping away just as surely as her finger was slipping from its intended spot. Gradually she edged her way to orgasm, and it exploded through her. She lay down on the grass as it subsided, breathing heavily from the force of it.

Then she sat up in a panic. That must have been at least ten minutes. She'd already been working at moving the toilet for two hours; Miss could be back any minute.

Grabbing the shovel clumsily with her cuffed hands, she started to dig.

Chapter 3 (added: 2019/02/19)

It took another half hour for Girl to dig the hole in the garden. Using a shovel while also handcuffed slowed her considerably, but that would be no excuse to Miss. There were no such things as excuses when it came to Miss. Luckily it was a clear patch, and not an existing burial site; if the shovel had hit the concrete of an older buried household fixture, she would have had to start again.

By the time the hole was deep enough, she was covered in dirt, shaking with exhaustion, panting, sweat dripping from her nose and nipples. She desperately wanted to collapse, but knew if she did she wouldn't be able to get up again in time before Miss returned. Not only did she need to bury the toilet, she needed to shower and clean off all the sweat and dirt from her skin and hair, dry and oil her cuffs, chain and padlock, and have a drink ready for when Miss walked in the door.

Groaning with effort, she rolled the toilet into the hole. The figure lay there, still with gaping mouth, and the gaping holes between its legs from the plumbing. The cement figure had a flat stomach and full medium sized breasts, but she knew the girl inside would be almost skeletally skinny, with a sunken stomach, shrunken rib-lined chest, and yellowish jaundiced skin. The eyes, blue irises surrounded by yellowish whites, stared blankly. Normally one would think to close the eyes on a person before shoveling the dirt on; but of course they couldn't be closed, and anyway a toilet isn't a person.

Girl wiped her sweaty face with her equally sweaty forearm, then started shoveling earth over the former slave. Once it had been a girl just like her, serving Miss as her property, before ultimately being installed as a bathroom fixture. She had then gone in to live almost six months. Far, far longer than expected, considering she ate and drank only bodily waste.

After another twenty minutes the hole was filled. Girl returned the shovel to the shed, and went inside.

She couldn't believe that despite everything, she was getting wet again. Once she'd showered and dried, unable to resist, she slipped her fingers inside herself again, parting the lips between the padlock. She stroked with two fingers, each side of her clitoris, the chain of her handcuffs clinking with each rub, faster and faster until she was close... closer...

The sound of a car engine broke her concentration just a few strokes away from her building orgasm. She gasped in surprise, getting to her feet and running to her designated spot in the kitchen, getting her cuffed hands behind her back and kneeling, knees together, eyes down. She could still feel the potential orgasm, slowly fading, out of reach. Maybe forever.

The lock clicked, the door opened, and Miss entered holding a leash. On the other end of the leash, entering after her, was girl of 18 or 19. She was naked except for the collar to which the leash was attached. Her arms were behind her - Miss has evidently already applied the keyless, lifelong handcuffs.

Girl didn't move, awaiting orders.

"All done and ready, girl?" Miss asked as she placed the keys on the table, and picked up the cold drink Girl had, luckily, placed there before her failed masturbation.

Miss drank the glass empty, with a significant look at Girl. Girl understood the meaning and her heart sank again. Whatever slim hope she may have had was dashed.

Miss turned to address the leashed girl, who was still standing motionless behind her. "Well, welcome home. This is the slave you'll be replacing. From now on, you're girl." She turned and gestured to the one kneeling on the floor. "Meet the new toilet."

Chapter 4 (added: 2019/02/19)

"Girl," Miss said to the new girl standing beside her with her hands cuffed behind her back, "meet the new toilet. It will be installed and used for the next few months."

Toilet, the female slave who until now had been the one in the house referred only as 'girl', kept her eyes down and tried her best not to flinch upon hearing her new name - and fate. Despite the tear now running down her cheek, she could still feel the warmth between her legs from her unachieved orgasm... and, she noted, with anger at herself and her body's betrayal, Miss' words. How could she be in both mortal terror and sexually aroused at the same time? It was a situation in which she'd frequently found herself since becoming Miss' property.

"Yes Miss," said the new girl, obviously having enough general training to get by even without knowing Miss' specific rules. Having been assigned a name and role herself, she knelt and mirrored the other slave's posture.

"Get it installed," Miss said. "I'll be going out, I'll expect it fully functioning by this afternoon. It will give you some specific information on your new duties. And its own."

With that she left again. The two slaves knelt until they heard Miss' car drive off, at which point they both looked up into each other's eyes.

"My name's..." started the new girl, but toilet cut her off.

"Girl, your name is girl."

Girl's cheeks flushed. "Yes, of course. Thankyou."

"You will need to be careful," toilet told her. "Miss might, if She is feeling extremely generous, try and be forgiving of you today. If so, it will never happen again." The new girl nodded in understanding. "Your first job is to install me," continued the toilet. "Follow me to the bathroom."

They both rose and walked to the bathroom. "Will I have a padlock too?" asked the new girl.

"Yes," said toilet as they entered the bathroom. The clean copper pipes stuck out of the tiled floor. A bucket of cement and a few tools were already set out. "Your labia will be padlocked, your tongue will be bifurcated... split into two, or 'forked'," she added for the girl's benefit. She poked out her tongue to demonstrate, touching the tip of her nose with one fork, then the other. "It assists with pleasuring Miss. She will provide instruction once you have been modified. She will have a surgeon friend perform it, probably tomorrow."

"Oh," said the new girl. "Will they use a loca anaesthetic or general?"


The new girl swallowed. "Oh."

Toilet stepped over to the pipes and stood over them. "If you're fortunate, your arms are long enough that you can move them down and step through them, so that you can use your hands in front of you."

The new girl shook her head and turned around, showing that as well as the lock-less cuffs on her wrist, her arms were also pinned above the elbows by another set. Not a good sign, thought the toilet. She won't last very long at all. Miss must not have high hopes for her.

"You will find it very difficult to work," she said to the new girl. Miss will expect you to perform tasks as quickly and thoroughly as if you had front use of your hands."

The new girl's face turned even redder, her eyes downcast. She seemed to realise things may not go well for her. "Oh. I see."

"As I said, your first job is to install me, permanently. I will serve as toilet for the rest of my life."

"I though Miss said it would only be for a few months?"

"That's right."

"Oh. I see. I'm... I'm sorry."

"So was I, when I was the new girl installing the old toilet. It died this morning, midway through pleasuring Miss. it lasted much longer than expected."

"Will, um..." the new girl licked her lips. "Will I be permitted to use you that way?"

Toilet smirked. "Yes, when Miss is out of definitely not in need of using me. One of the perks."

The new girl smiled. "I look forward to that."

"The first task is to connect me to the plumbing. That part, I do myself."

Toilet positioned her buttocks over the pipe nearest the wall, and her vagina over the other. They were both fairly wide, to ensure a good seal. She started to push herself down on them, wriggling to make sure they entered properly. Once they were both just inside her anus and labia, she pushed down the rest of the way, gasping. The anal pipe was extremely deep, but the front one not so - it was designed to catch flow from her urethra, after all. Once she had slid all the way down to her knees, she let out a breath.

"Now you need to apply sealant, before concreting me in."

With difficulty, the new girl picked up the caulking gun and, twisting her body and arms around to the side, applied sealant around the toilet's anus, and then around the vulva, sealing them to their respective pipes.

"Wow," said the new girl as she stood back and looked. The toilet could see she was wet. "That's got to be the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"I'm glad you think so," said the toilet. "But now comes the hardest part."

Chapter 5 (added: 2019/03/25)

"You'll need to apply the concrete mix over all my exposed skin," said the toilet. "My eyes, nostrils and mouth will be the only things exposed."

Girl struggled to put on the gloves and pick up the trowel - it was hard to do, having to twist her torso and reach her cuffed arms as far around one side as she could. "Fuck this is hot," she said. "I can't believe how wet I am."

Toilet looked between the girl's legs and saw she was indeed soaking wet, with trickles of it on her inner thigh. She knew she was generating even more wetness, but due to the deal connecting her to the plumbing it was all draining into the pipe - her vulva and clitoris, despite her incredible arousal, remained dry.

"Me too," toilet said. "I don't suppose I could have a final request?"

The girl grinned. "You want one last cum, huh? Well, I could eat you out I guess, if I get my head down at the floor..."

"Please? Once I'm installed you'll probably be riding my tongue every spare moment."

"God, yes, that's true," said the girl as she put the trowel down.

She knelt down in front of the toilet, leaning forward and to the side on one shoulder, and managed to get her face to where the plumbing connected to the toilet. Only the outer labia and clitoris were exposed, and through they were dry the labia was red and the clitoris was erect and engorged. The toilet was clenching in anticipation, and the girl gave each lip a long, slow lick, moving up towards the clit but not quite touching it. The toilet moaned, her back arching until her spine was stopped by the anal pipe which was plunged almost to her colon.

"Godddddd yessss," she groaned as the girl now started gently lapping at her clit, her tongue running up and down over it and the vaginal pipe. She was more aroused than possibly ever in her life, and she could feel orgasm approaching already - her final orgasm, the last she would ever have. Just the thought almost tipped her over the edge. The girl now took the clit in her lips, sucking on it as she flicked the tip with her tongue faster and faster. The toilet tried to move her hips but the pipes kept her rooted to the spot. Nearly... so close... she could feel an explosive orgasm starting to build, and any second it...

"Girl what are you doing?!" said Miss from the doorway. "Why are you licking that toilet, that's disgusting!"

The girl immediately stopped and got up on her knees, back straight and eyes down. The toilet felt the wave of orgasm almost begin to crash over her, but it slowly faded. She moaned miserably, her shoulders slumping, her labia helplessly clenching at the pipe inside which her wetness would now be dripping. There would be no sexual release for her now, or ever.

"Hurry up and get it finished," said Miss, and she left the bathroom again. "No more licking bathroom fixtures."

"I'm sorry," the girl whispered to the toilet as she picked up the trowel again.

She spread some of the concrete mix right over the toilet's still-throbbing clitoris, sealing it away permanently. The she started covering the legs.

"Wouldn't this burn your skin off or something?" she asked.

"No," replied the toilet, still catching her breath. "It's some special mix. I don't know much about chemistry though. Miss originally used normal concrete on Her first toilet, but it died from the burns and overheating too quickly to be useful."

"I see, said the girl, using her gloves hand to smooth out the concrete as she went, making sure it followed every curve, including the labia and clitoris, so that the finished result resembled sculpture. "Can you tell me, what sort of discipline does Miss use?"

"With Miss, you will receive at most one warning for a mistake or infraction. The warning comes with removal of a body part."

The girl looked up at the toilet as she spread concrete over her stomach. "What body part?"

"It's different every time," said the toilet. "It could be as small as a nipple, clit, fingertip. Or it could be a limb, or internal organs, or head. I received a warning once, and was incredibly lucky. It was my left pinkie toe."

Girl was now spreading the concrete mix over the toilets arms. From the breasts down, it was now a still-wet sculpture of a girl connected to the floor.

"So, if you make another mistake one day? You said there's only one warning, so... what kind of punishments does she use?"

"Only one, said the toilet. "Capital punishment. Any mistake is immediate death penalty. She has a noose and ceiling hook ready to use at a moment's notice. I once saw a slave get distracted while eating her out and not bring her to orgasm quickly enough. She went to the cupboard, grabbed the noose, got the slave up on a chair and she was swinging within five minutes of the mistake. Took her almost that long again to die. "

The girl couldn't believe that this story had made even wetter, to the point the actually dropped in the tiled floor. She was now cementing the toilet's back.

"Was that your... predecessor?"

"No, toilet replied, "she became the toilet in replacing now. This was a slave Miss has borrowed for a friend. She bought her another."

The girl was now standing, her arms still twisted in order to work, starting to cement the toilet's neck.

"Good job," she told the girl. "I need to get in position for the next part."

She put her head back, facing the ceiling, as far as she could. It hurt her neck, but she had to make sure she was facing perfectly upwards to provide a level seat.

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