Toilet in 401 female dormitory

Author: smlianzu
Word count: 25291
I was chained to the radiator under the window, and I had a dog tag that read “Owner: Dormitory 401” around my neck. I became a toilet, a toilet belonging to the 401 dormitory. But a few hours ago, I was alone, a 16-year-old boy. It was still dark, and there was a slight snoring sound echoing in the dormitory. The girls are still sleeping. That’s right, except for me, who is chained to the heater, who can only stand and rest because of the length of the dog chain while enduring the scorching heat, who is not sleeping? Or, for me, the “toilet figure”? In this lonely and frightening night, I often think of the novels I have read. The word “toilet figure” has been flying around in my mind. “It’s scary, it’s really scary.” I shook my head in horror, and the dog chain was rattled. I was shrunk, shrunk down to the height of an average human knee. Because I’m a potty, I can’t be shrunk down very small. But the girls don’t seem to be happy with my height. This is very inconvenient to use. The youngest girl, a 10-year-old little loli, pouted and said so. Yes, part of the job of a toilet is to be used. There was a rustling sound from the lower bunk next to the door. A vague black figure rose from the bed, tall and tall. Although I know, this is just a girl no more than 15 years old. Maybe even smaller, after all, the youngest girl here is only 10 years old. Shrunken me makes everything I see bigger than usual, shocking. The sleepy girl stumbled to the window. I was really afraid that she would accidentally fall and crush me. I can even feel the ground shaking slightly. I heard the girl’s heavy footsteps, although very light, but in this silent night, very clear. The girl came to me, obviously with a sleepy look. I’m going to be used, just like they were before they fell asleep. “Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo… “Call softly to get our attention.” Before the lights were turned off, the girls lay on the bed and taught me leisurely. The girl in front of me opened her eyes. “Put your head up,” the 10-year-old girl in lace pajamas said to me playfully, lying on the edge of the bed just like the girl who had just taught me before she fell asleep. Just like the 10-year-old girl taught me, I whimpered and turned my face up. The girl stretched out her hand expressionlessly, grabbed the end of thread protruding from my mouth, and took out the cloth stuffed in my mouth. Those are girls’ old panties, crumpled up, and stuffed them into my mouth. This is already a discounted amount. Today, uh, it should be yesterday afternoon. The girls found out four pairs of old panties, folded them into a roll, and stuffed them into my mouth. They were nicknamed “covers.” They put the roll of panties much bigger than my mouth on my mouth, which was already opened to the limit. I could only swallow a quarter of the roll.It’s as hard as swallowing panties in your mouth, but there’s no progress. “The mouth is so small.” The youngest, a ten-year-old girl, said with some regret, “Can’t you swallow it anymore?” The very quiet girl with black hair and glasses asked me in a curious tone, and I nodded feebly.