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ORIGINAL: Rawni

Oh how can we talk shit and diapers and Sam Elliott in the same thread?

There's just something not right with that.

However... Sam is the guy. I did his double, voice and all. Yummm Damn it Chickie... I'll be up all night now.

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ORIGINAL: Darkfeather

See, leave it to the kinksters at collarme to put the image of Sam, in a diaper, making a dootie, right in your head... See it, see it

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ORIGINAL: SeekingTrinity

I'll take Sam Elliott or Halle Berry any day of the week...and twice on Sunday... over the "real life case study" crap that started this whole ball of dung rolling in the first place

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ORIGINAL: vcampbell1981

Hey everyone - I’ve been a lurker here for a few months but this is a first post. I just wanted to share an experience I had with my husband, who I recently found out had the most disgusting of disgusting fetishes imaginable: He was actively seeking women to fullfill a toilet slave fantasy.

It was early september when I frantically asked several online communities who discuss the topic the following question:

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My husband wants to be used as a toilet. I want to leave him. We have kids. What do i do?

Last week I borrowed my husband's laptop and he was signed into google with a strange account. I googled the account and discovered profiles he'd created on fetish sites wanting to be used by other women as their toilet! When I confronted him about it he admitted to me that he has had this fantasy since he was a kid but would never actually act on it.. he said he was just using these forums as an "outlet" for his fantasies. But I later got him to admit that he'd actually done it before (before we were together). He paid some dominatrix in Montreal to do it to him (I found the emails between them from back in 2006). These other profiles are current. Bottom line is we have a rocky relationship to begin with and this is what's breaking the camels back for me. I want to leave him, but we have kids... I can't get a divorce because I know he'll get them (due to issues that are in my past that I'd rather not get into here... these are not issues anymore but they are significant enough to put a giant question mark to the question of who gets them). Any help or advice here would be much appreciated. Thank you so much.

At the time, my knee-jerk reaction was blind rage. I just wanted to get the hell out of the situation. One person suggested the following advice, which I actually took to heart at first:

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As far as fantasies go this has got to be the most screwy. I couldn’t be with someone that had this fetish either. How could you kiss him? Eew!
So your predicament, if I understand it, is that you want to leave him but feel he has leverage over you that is greater than yours. If I were you, I’d focus on this and try to think of ways to tilt things in your favor. To start with, I’m sure he would hate his fetish known to family members and friends, right? Internet accounts alone probably won’t cut it. Maybe tell him you’re willing to try it, only get the act on camera. Tada. Leverage city! Lots of possibilities open up for you if you can manage to get him on video eating poo.

My plan was to blindfold him and record him on my phone… it would have been easy enough (other than the obvious discomfort of performing the act). Somewhere between deciding on this plan and actually following through with it, I began to see the situation a bit more objectively.

I guess I realized that my husband didn’t ask for this weird fetish. It was a fantasy that developed and grew over time and it was obvious why he kept it from me. And yes - it could be a whole lot worse. At least he’s not a pedophile or into bestiality or something like that.

So I began actually talking to him about it… and after some thought, I realized a few things. Most importantly, I still loved the man. I did marry him for a reason. And he’s also a very good dad. Secondly, I couldn’t just ignore this issue and let things continue to fester--the worst case scenario would be that he goes out pays some random woman to do this to him and picks up some sort of disease.

Eventually, I came to the difficult conclusion that the only way to safely deal with this problem would be to roll up my sleeves and deal with it myself. You don’t turn your back on loved ones suffering from an addiction that they have no control over. My theory was that the only way to engrain how fucking disgusting this was to him is to give him exactly what he wanted.

Here’s (briefly) what we did: My hubby ordered a square planter box on ebay and fashioned a toilet out of it. The bottom is open, so we folded an old dog blanket under it. We placed it in our master bathroom, which obviously became off-limits for the kids. I began to use this box as my toilet. When the kids go to bed (usually between 7:30 and 8), my hubby stuck his head in and I'd lock it. He doesn’t get out until 7am in the morning and it takes a couple of hours each morning to clean himself and hand wash the blanket. He works from home and has flexible hours, so getting to work at 10am wasn’t too bad.

So without getting into the gross details, we’ve had a lot of success with this I think. After only a couple days, he was predictably miserable and begged to stop, but I demanded that it continue until I was sure--that this "toilet slave" fantasy would make him just as sick as it does me. The deal was that if he stopped or refused before I say, we’d get a divorce and I'd get full custody. There were a few hick-ups: we had to take a couple weeks off when he got sick. He caught a bacterial infection of some sort that I can’t remember (something long and complicated that I’d never heard of) and was violently ill for about a week and had to be on antibiotics. Also, my husband's no craftsman and it was constructed in a way that everything fell way above his head, so I had to keep a large spoon next to the toilet and scoop … well, I don’t need to spell it out, do I? I puked on more than one occasion as we were starting out but eventually numbed to it (not nearly as much as he did though). Another issue was the smell. The master bedroom is attached to the bathroom where the box was kept, so I stuffed wet towels under the crack of the bathroom door and used lots of air freshener and nose plugs. The stink was even detectable out of the bedroom… We told the kids there was a plumbing issue.

Anyways, my husband’s pleas for it to stop became more urgent as the weeks went by. He didn’t sleep much at night as you can imagine -- the blanket his head was on was usually completely sopped. Often I’d catch him sleeping in his office during the day.

Finally, after almost three months, he just refused to do it anymore. Any fate would be better than that, he said (I’d been stomach sick that day and the odor was unusually bad). By this time the back of his head and neck was developing a bad rash. I was firm and told him that the only way I’d be okay with him not getting in is if he either agreed to a divorce in which I got everything including the kids OR if he agreed to castration.

He said he’d rather be castrated than lose his kids. So I played along and had him lay on the bathroom floor while I got the hedge trimmers from the garage. He agreed to tell the paramedics that he did it to himself when the ambulance arrived. I saw his eyes as I braced there with the trimmers. He was ready to lose his balls rather than spend one more night in the box. That’s when I knew he was cured.

It was a grueling few months, but I firmly believe that my hubby is now over this disgusting fantasy. When I offer to do it for him, he loses his boner and is visibly disgusted with the idea.

Anyways, I spent many hours cruising forums for solutions when I first found out my husband suffered from this awful fetish. There were no happy stories out there. Only ones ending in divorce… So here’s what I hope to be a happy ending. Only time will tell if this is a permanent fix, but at this point I truly believe it is.