You make your excuses, and walk up to the toilet.
Entering the bathroom makes you recoil with the stench. His toilet is a yellowed, crusty mess, the bowl stained an unmentionable brown and the water a dark yellow.
The floor and walls are also stained yellow, indicating he misses the bowl a lot. The bath and shower are relatively unstained, bar a layer of dust.
You are feeling horny, and you want Jack to mistreat you.
You imagine what it would be like to be his toilet, stuck here in his bathroom, being used by him unthinkingly to piss and shit in.
The toilet he uses unscrews from its bearing, so before Jack comes up, you unseal it and move it aside. You crouch atop the pole that sticks up out of the floor and open your mouth wide.
You wait for a few minutes until Jack comes in and sees you crouching there. He shrugs, pulls out his dick and releases a thick stream of piss onto your face, most of which goes into your mouth.
You smile happily, feeling you could sit here for hours.
And you do. You want to see how long you can keep this up for. You stay there in that position, savoring the flavor of Jack's piss in your mouth, until he comes up again for another.
He doesn't seem to find this odd at all, and pisses in you again.
He then undoes his belt, and pulls down his pants. Your eyes open wide as he turns around and positions his ass over your mouth.
You stay still as he squeezes a thick, dark brown shit into your mouth. The vile, nasty flavor fills covers your tongue. He grins, and pushes down the top of your head, so the shit squashes around inside you, and you swallow most of it.
'Flush.' he says wickedly. 'I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow morning.'
Your legs finally give out after sitting in this position for so long, and you fall, the thick metal pole sliding up you ass.
You yelp slightly, and try to pull yourself off, but you are stuck. Your arms and legs feel sluggish, and you can't seem to close your mouth on your own.
You try to call Jack for help, but you can't seem to make any coherent noise. You sit there uncomfortably the entire night, until you hear Jack wake up.
He walks in and whips out his cock, pissing into your mouth again. Each drop makes you feel weaker, and you can feel the cold metal pole growing, sliding up your ass.
You sit there for days, Jack pissing and shitting in you as he pleases, and your skin becomes paler and colder, and you sink into a lazy flop on the floor, the cold metal pipe filling your insides.
Two weeks later, Jack comes in for his morning piss. Your mouth seem to have closed during the night, but you still can't move. Jack reaches to your lip, and pulls you open; a thick plastic lid clatters against your forehead. Jack pisses into your mouth as usual, then closes you. He pulls out a mirror and points it at you; you see only a normal, dirty porcelain toilet.
You never move again, living in Jack's bathroom, drinking his piss and eating his shit. He rarely flushes you, so your mouth is coated with dirt, and he never cleans you, so slowly you become yellower and nastier, until you fit in with the filthy surroundings of Jack's dirty house.