As the late afternoon sun streamed through the living room window, my female friend and I sat on the plush sofa, smoking cigarettes and enjoying each other's company. The air was thick with conversation and laughter, punctuated by the occasional exhale of smoke. It was then that my friend noticed something peculiar – an unusual object positioned near our feet.
"What's that?" she inquisitively asked, pointing at the dusty, golden-colored object.
I smiled, amused at her curiosity. "That's my personal slave," I casually replied, taking another drag of my cigarette. "He serves multiple purposes – he's an ash tray when we smoke," I gestured towards the growing number of cigarette butts on the slave's back.
My friend's eyes widened in surprise and intrigue. "You mean... you let him eat your cigarette butts?" she asked, rolling her eyes in disbelief.
I nodded with a mischievous grin, enjoying the shocked expression on her face. "Oh yes, and much more," I added, trying not to laugh.
I stood up from the sofa, signaling for my friend to follow me. As she rose to her feet, I took her by the hand, leading her over to the slave. He lay there quietly, eyes closed, breathing softly. I knelt down next to him, pulling back his eyelids to reveal his sunken eyes, dull from years of servitude.
"See?" I said, pointing at the slave's open mouth. It was empty, expectant. "He's also an excellent personal toilet. Just ask him," I ordered, nudging the slave with my foot.
My friend watched in amazement as the slave's eyes slowly started to focus on her. "Your mistress wants to know if you're willing to be her personal toilet," I translated his blank stare into words.
After a moment's hesitation, the slave nodded obediently. My friend's brow furrowed in confusion, but she couldn't help being drawn in by the strange display unfolding before her eyes. She tentatively took a step back, removing her panties from her legs. Without another word, she squatted down over the slave's waiting mouth and released a hot, fragrant pile of shit directly into his waiting mouth.
The smell of excrement filled the air, mingling with the scent of burning tobacco. My friend's eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the slave dutifully start swallowing her filth. "Oh my God," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of horror and fascination. "This is really happening."
As the slave finished swallowing her shit, she couldn't help but giggle nervously. "That was... interesting," she said, slowly standing up. "I think I've seen enough," she added, walking away from the slave with a mix of amusement and revulsion.
I watched her go, chuckling to myself. This was just the beginning. It was now my turn to use the slave as my personal toilet. I picked up a small container from the nearby table, filled it with some water, and handed it to the slave. "Drink this," I commanded, gesturing for him to open his mouth.
Obediently, the slave tilted his head back, allowing the water to trickle down his throat. Once he'd finished, I placed a small amount of piss into the container, instructing him to drink it. He hesitated for a moment, but eventually obeyed, guzzling down the foul-tasting liquid like a dog lapping up water from a bowl.
When the slave had finished drinking, I ordered him to remove all traces of my friend's shit from his mouth. He did so without question, his tongue scraping hesitantly against his teeth before he swallowed the remaining saliva. Once he was clean, I placed another pile of shit in front of his face, commanding him to eat it.
As I watched, I felt a surge of power course through my body. The idea that I could reduce another human being to this level of humiliation and degradation was both exhilarating and terrifying. But then again, this was what made me feel alive – the thrill of domination, the ultimate control over another person's destiny.
Reluctantly, I pulled myself away from the scene before me, forcing myself to think about something else – anything else. But even as I tried to distance myself from the encounter, the lingering taste of power remained, taunting me like a lover long since forgotten.
