The Mouth Toilet Makeover
The process of modifying Yukaho into a mouth toilet turned out to be simpler than expected. For a mouth toilet, the basics required her to swallow cocks of any size without issue. Constant thrusting was key, of course, but she also needed reinforced throat muscles and mucosa that could stretch like rubber. Basic trainers could handle the thrusting alone, but the enhancements demanded a researcher's touch.
"Let's see, the throat's lined with squamous epithelium, right? Gotta make this stretch like high-grade rubber."
Of course, this modification would make swallowing food a real hassle for Yukaho. Bodily functions were engineered to spec, after all. But for a toilet? No big deal.
"Let's start with this—try swallowing it down."
Shinchi promptly dropped his pants. Plain-looking guy, nothing special on the outside, but he'd aced his studies. That's how he ended up a researcher. He figured that was his only edge, but down below? A monster lurked. Back when stereotypes pegged East Asians as small, Shinchi's tool was straight-up gaijin size—off the charts for the region. A whopping 25 centimeters, his pride and joy these days.
"Swallow this first."
He shoved it straight into Yukaho's mouth. She'd endured her mouth being wrecked on stage before, but compared to those guys, Shinchi's was monstrous. If this whole thing goes in, I'll suffocate, pure terror gripped her. Shinchi didn't give a damn about her state, though. He rammed deep, pulled back, and repeated. Pausing to check on her would've ground everything to a halt.
One small mercy: her teeth had long been swapped for rubber ones, so forcing it in was friction-free.
"Guuughhh!!"
Forced to deepthroat, saliva poured from her mouth. Classic irrumatio. Yukaho's face twitched as she fought for air. No dice. Oxygen cut off, she blacked out.
"Tch, passed out already? That's a problem."
A mouth toilet had to endure this for hours on end. Shinchi jotted "external respiration" on the mod list. She'd need to breathe with a clogged throat, or she'd croak mid-training.
When Yukaho came to, Shinchi loomed over her.
"Awake?"
Tears welled up as reality crashed in—no dream, this nightmare. The rubber teeth. The restraints. All too real.
"Crying's fine and all, but you're gonna be a toilet now. Act like it."
"Why me...? Why do I have to be the toilet?!"
"No reason. You're livestock material, end of story."
"I never signed up for this! Please, let me go..."
"Sorry, not my call. I just build mouth toilets."
"But I was forced—"
Slap. Her head snapped sideways from the backhand.
"Shut it and suck my cock. Think you're the first livestock to whine?"
"......"
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
"Warning you—if you don't swallow to the hilt today, you'll get beaten all night."
That's when it hit her. She was livestock now. No one saw her as human anymore.
"......Yes, sir."
"Good. Open wide, bitch."
Her mouth ravaged for ages, she finally hilted it all—but service? Total fail. A mouth toilet that couldn't please was worthless.
"Can't even suck properly? That's all you're good for."
Shinchi pondered, then jammed back in. The length and girth alone were agony.
"Yukaho, if service is off the table, handle waste disposal first."
"......Mmph?"
Waste disposal? Don't tell me...
Shhhhhaaaaa.
Unbelievable—the cock buried in her mouth unleashed a torrent of piss. So deep, it flooded straight down her throat.
"Mmph! Glug-glug-glrrk!"
Even bypassing her mouth, the acrid stench hit hard. True to "mouth toilet," her mouth was just a urinal now. The volume was insane. The vile taste made her retch, spilling back up—but it stayed inside her mouth, no overflow yet.
Shinchi emptied blissfully, then withdrew.
"Swallow it all, Yukaho. Vomit, and I'll zap your clit with electricity."
He flashed the electrodes from earlier. Terrified of the shock, she forced down the mouthful of piss.
Shinchi grinned at her success.
"Not bad—real talent for toilet duty. Nail the service, and you're set. Right?"
Was this praise? Yukaho couldn't tell. But it sparked a twisted warmth. No clue why.
"......Thank you."
"Good. Let's make you a top-tier toilet."
"Yes. I'll work hard to be the best."
Far more compliant now, Yukaho dove into training. A week later, the change was stark. She eagerly engulfed the cock, even gnawing gently with her rubber teeth for extra kick.
"Urgh, ngh."
It prodded her uvula, making her falter—but she recovered, swallowing deeper. Once forced, now she craved it. Throat mods helped, sure, but she'd mastered pleasure-giving. Hilted to the root, tongue swirling slow. The girl who'd passed out from suffocation? Ancient history. She was a fellatio pro now.
Shinchi pulled out; she looked almost disappointed.
"How's it feel?"
"Master... your cock smells so good..."
Programming taking root—she called him "Master" now. Shinchi got it: the chip in her head was stacking data, rewiring her.
"Solid work. Yukaho, shipping time."
Time to let her go. He'd get a new subject soon. Yukaho seemed sad yet thrilled.
"Meeting a new master?"
"Yeah."
At least she'd keep sucking cock—she beamed at that.
Shipment was smooth. Post-registry, she was officially livestock. Shinchi compiled the mod list for future mouth toilets. Boredom creeping in, he flicked on the TV—and there was a familiar face.
A woman with a silver-ringed mask, tongue lolling, drool cascading—Yukaho. Next to her: <Special Deal: Mouth Toilet Onahole!> Home shopping channel, probably.
To prove it, Yukaho crammed a 25cm dildo down her throat—flawless. Shinchi felt oddly pleased.
"Looks happy enough."
No more Yukaho for him, but a weight lifted. He switched off the TV, strolled to the docks for his next assignment.
"Wonder what I'll craft this time."
Whatever it was, he craved pussy mods—no more mouths. Luckily, that's exactly what he got: vulva training.