Summoning My Personal Toilet (1)
“Slurp! Slurp! Sluuuurp!”
It was over a hundred times now since I'd started getting blowjobs, but it felt so damn good every single time that I couldn't help chuckling. Seeing this silver-haired beauty stretch her lips like an octopus around my cock without a care, sucking with all her might—it brought a satisfied smile to my face all on its own.
“Slurp! Pop! Slurp! Pop!”
“Haha.”
The crude sucking sounds made me laugh out loud without thinking. Hearing me, she lifted her head to look my way—still with my cock buried in her mouth.
“Is my service unsatisfactory, Master?”
Her name was Bidel. My very first summon.
Most summoners could only call forth inanimate objects like spears or shields, but for some reason, I could summon women.
“Nah, it's just that it feels too good. Keep going.”
“Yes, Master. Mmm. Lick lick. Sluuuurp. Slurp slurp.”
Ever since becoming a summoner, my stamina had skyrocketed beyond anything normal. As long as I kept my nutrition up, I could cum over ten times a day.
“Time to milk one out.”
“Yeth, Mathter.”
At my command, Bidel took my cock all the way to the root on her own. My shaft was pushing twenty centimeters, filling her throat completely and making it impossible to breathe—but she pistoned away like it was routine.
Thrust thrust thrust.
A woman's precious throat, which should never be injured, was being brutally used solely to rub against my glans.
“Guh...! Gulp! Gulp! Guh!”
My cock spent most of its time at home comfortably nestled in my summon's mouth. No matter how much I came, my balls refilled instantly, so there was no reason not to stuff it into a pleasurable hole.
As a result, Bidel had learned to speak fluently even with my dick in her mouth.
...Who would've thought the world had ended while I was asleep.
I'd chosen cold sleep for an incurable disease and woken up after a hundred years. The problem? The world had ended almost a hundred years ago, right after I fell asleep.
“Gulp gulp! Sluuuurp. Slurp.”
“Swallow it all.”
At my word, Bidel doubled her pistoning speed, squeezing my cock for all it was worth. The friction made my glans feel like it was on fire.
This scorching urge to cum. I couldn't hold back.
Spurt! Spurt! Spuuuurt—!
“Guh...! Ngh...!”
Bidel shuddered as she took my pulsing cock deep into her throat, savoring it slowly.
-Gulp. Gulp.
Unless I specified otherwise, accepting cum in her throat pussy was the rule for a mouth pussy toilet.
Spurt spurt! Spurgle!
“Guh! Ngh...! Gulp.”
Bidel gulped down my load while contracting her throat to milk me dry. When no more came out, she shook her head one last time, rubbing my cock against her throat walls. That squeezed out even the final drop lingering in my urethra.
Drip drip drip.
My sensitive post-orgasm glans slid slowly from her throat onto her tongue.
“Sluuuurp. Slurp slurp. Lick lick.”
“Bidel's mouth pussy is the best, as always.”
“Lick lick.”
I stroked her head with a smile, and she smiled back.
It happened right after I returned to college.
My body started feeling sluggish, and soon the sensation vanished from my soles—I couldn't walk anymore. Luckily, I collapsed near a bus stop and got rushed to the ER.
I was scared I might need surgery, but that was pointless worry. My illness was incurable.
“Lou Gehrig's disease?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, there's no treatment right now.”
Lou Gehrig's disease destroys muscle cells, leaving you unable to move.
“It'll gradually stop working, bit by bit. Eventually, even breathing becomes impossible, and you die.”
“Then...”
I bombarded the doctor with questions. How long did I have? Any way to extend my life even a little?
Every answer plunged me deeper into despair and terror, twisting my face pathetically. The doctor, unfazed—like this was routine—delivered it mechanically.
“No cure. There are drugs to slow progression, but they're not covered by insurance. I'm sorry, but you'll have to accept it.”
Drugs not covered by insurance, like something out of the news.
“...How do people like me usually cope?”
Sensation was already gone from my soles. No matter how hard I tried, my toes wouldn't budge.
“They stay bedridden. Many with the same disease make bucket lists and check them off one by one.”
Bucket lists...
“Even small things they always wanted to do. Most who don't go mad focus on their bucket lists.”
Those without purpose couldn't accept reality and lost their minds. If it were just dying, you might resign yourself and plan your remaining time wisely. But enduring the horror of your body failing while sane? Impossible.
Bucket lists would need family or friends' help for even the smallest items. No meaning in that life.
“I need a way to live. Nothing else matters. Is there really no treatment? Nothing...?”
“As a doctor, no.”
As a doctor?
“Even superstitions or folk remedies. Anything with even a shred of effect—please tell me...!”
The doctor eyed me coldly.
“I've seen four others with this disease... but you're especially resistant to reality.”
“I'm on the verge of madness. Isn't that natural?”
He sighed faintly, adjusted his glasses, and spoke.
“...Try the Life Extension Foundation in Seoul.”
“Life extension?”
Never heard of it.
“You know cold sleep? I don't believe frozen humans are truly 'alive,' but that's your call.”
Frozen human. I got it instantly—a place preserving incurables in cryo for a future cure.
“.......I'll go there.”
I needed even a sliver of hope.
“Good luck.”
The doctor left like that was that. I told my family I wanted to become a frozen human, but Mom looked uneasy.
“......Sigh. Jinwoo, how could we possibly afford that from our household?”
Dad delivered the harsh truth instead.
“Yeon-ah.”
My fingers weren't obeying, so I asked my only sister to search.
“Uh... Oppa, this is impossible. It's 350 million won.”
“350 million?”
Basically freezing a corpse—why so pricey?
“Heh...”
Impossible for a salaryman, let alone a student like me. I slumped, laughing bitterly. The indifferent doctor returned.
“They were promoting online, so I printed it.”
I took the A4 sheet.
Revolutionary Cryo Technology! Experience the Miracle Cure for Any Disease! Recruiting First Experimental Subjects! All Costs FREE!
“Free!?”
“It looked shady, so I hesitated... but it's an official ad from the foundation. They have rat experiment footage—want to see?”
I nodded. On the tablet PC, an old rat died from cigarette smoke, got cryo-frozen, then thawed—revived young and healthy.
“No way.”
Looked like cheap CGI for scamming suckers. But I had to grasp at straws. No attachment to a life where I couldn't walk properly. Die if I die.
“Apply fast. It's first-come, first-served for 20 spots, not lottery. Only five left.”
“Yeon-ah!”
“On it.”
She was reliable in crises, despite our usual fights.
“Life Extension Foundation in Seoul.”
Sis held the smartphone to my ear.
“I'd like to apply for cold sleep. Please...!”
“Sorry, we just filled up. Try next time.”
I pleaded desperately before they hung up.
“Please! I have Lou Gehrig's disease! This is my only hope!”
“Apologies, first-come reservations are closed. Next opportuni—”
No guarantee next time would be free. If it worked once, even I'd charge.
Damn...!
Normally, I'd quit here. But facing death? No quitting.
“Please! Could you call the applicants? Ask if anyone healthy applied for fun and would yield to a Lou Gehrig's patient...? Just once! I'm begging!”
I bowed my head fiercely, pleading wretchedly to someone I'd never meet. Did my passion transmit?
“.......Fine. I'll contact you later.”
“Thank you! Truly!”
Worth not giving up. Of the 20, three were healthy thrill-seekers; one yielded graciously.
“Mom... Dad... see you in a year.”
Both workers, yet they came before I froze.
I barely questioned the researchers, but parents grilled them.
“Alright, stay calm. Sounds super safe.”
Dad was relatively serene.
“Sniff. Mom's sorry! If we were rich...”
Mom cried, guilty for sending her son as a guinea pig.
“Mom, I'm fine. Who else gets this lucky?”
I knew I was just a test subject. But instinct said I'd survive.
“See you next year, Oppa. I'll be in college then.”
“Yeah. Study hard.”
A dizzying pain like a hammer to my brain jolted me awake slowly.
“Ugh...”
Supposed to be one year asleep, but it felt like over a hundred.
“Thank goodness! You're awake!”
“What were you thinking messing with the machine without knowing anything?”
Vision blurry and bright—couldn't see. Ears rang from noise. Side effects were supposed to be minimal, but it took thirty minutes for eyes and ears to normalize.
“Hey! You okay?”
“One more summoner means safer travels!”
No white-coated researchers or doctors—instead, two casually dressed women.
Something wrong. Looking around, my capsule was intact; others shattered. Collapsed ceiling, broken lights, thick dust—lab abandoned long ago.
“Haha...”
Unsettling, but joy overwhelmed me.
“I'm alive! Haha! Alive!”
Toes and fingers obeyed perfectly. Lou Gehrig's disease—cured.