Lady Shay's transformation into a toilet object continued, as she found herself being poked and prodded in ever more intimate ways. Her master had reprogrammed her mind to respond instinctively to the simplest of stimuli, turning her into an obedient slave to his every desire.
With a snap of his fingers, she was on all fours, presenting her newly formed toilet bowl-shaped rear end for his perverse amusement. He positioned himself behind her and ran his hand down her spine, eliciting a shudder of anticipation from his now completely submissive creation.
"You have become so responsive," he remarked with a satisfied smile. "It's as if you were born to be my personal toilet."
Without warning, he roughly thrust two fingers into her pink, puckered anus, filling her up with his flesh. Moans of both pleasure and pain escaped her flushed lips as he swiftly began to pump in and out.
"You like being used like this, don't you?" he growled into her ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to form on her supple skin.
His thrusts grew deeper and faster, tearing into her soft flesh as he sought to assert his dominance over his new toy. Her tail swished back and forth in a rhythm that matched his movements, an involuntary reaction she had long ago lost control over.
As he neared climax, his grip around her waist tightened, pulling her body harder against his. With one last thrust, he let out a loud grunt, filling her insides with his warm seed.
Content with his conquest, he withdrew from her quivering body, leaving her to slowly regain her senses. Tears of submission coursed down her cheeks, but she remained steadfast in her resolve—to serve her master, to be his plaything, to live out her days as nothing more than a piece of toiletware.
With a devious smirk spread across his face, he knelt down next to her and whispered, "Now, my dear toilet, clean yourself. It's time to shine and be presentable for our next session of fun."
