As the cosmic cruiser hovered over the exquisite nebula, Lady Amira, a strikingly beautiful alien queen, made her way to the dining hall. Tonight, she had an unusual craving that could only be satisfied by feeding her slave something really extraordinary. She marched confidently towards the prep station, her silken gown swishing against her high-heeled boots as she passed by. A diminutive, furry creature scampered away from under her feet, its whiskers twitching nervously. It knew better than to interrupt its mistress' perambulations.
The dining hall was a splendid affair, adorned with shimmering crystals and lush vegetation that swayed gently to an invisible breeze. A long, gleaming table stood at the center of the room, ready to host an extravagant feast. One of Amira's loyal servants stood at attention, waiting for her command.
"Bring my slave," she commanded. "And make sure he's hungry."
A moment later, the servant returned, leading a human man in a tattered apron and dirty overalls. His eyes were downcast in submission, but there was a spark of curiosity in them when he saw what awaited him on the table. His mistress quickly cut it to the quick.
"Do you know what tonight's special is, slave?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
The man swallowed nervously. "N-no, my lady. What is it?"
She leaned in close, reveling in the fear she could see in his eyes. "Tonight, you're going to eat... everything I've made."
With that, she turned away from him and presented what she had spent the last few hours preparing: a massive, glistening turd, ripe and ready to be consumed. The man's eyes widened in horror, but he couldn't move or speak as his mistress approached with a grin on her face.
"Go on, slave," she purred. "It's time for dinner."
As the man tentatively reached out and prodded the steaming mass of feces with a trembling finger, Amira watched with glee. His hesitation was brief, however, as hunger overpowered his disgust. With a groan, he sank to his knees and began devouring his mistress' offering.
"Mmm," he moaned, still unable to believe what he was doing. "It's actually not that bad."
Amira scoffed. "Of course it's not," she laughed. "It's perfectly seasoned, isn't it?"
The man nodded, his mouth full of excrement. He couldn't deny the truth of her words; despite its revolting nature, the turd was surprisingly flavorful, with hints of spice and sweetness he couldn't quite place. Amira watched as he licked his lips, already anticipating another bite.
"Don't you forget," she warned. "This is all for your own good, slave. You're lucky I chose to feed you my own shit, instead of letting you starve."
She turned her back on him, watching as his fingers reached back into the abyss that was once her dinner. The man groaned again, his body aching from the lack of nourishment it had been deprived of for so long. Amira couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction in knowing she had complete control over him, despite his initial revulsion.
As the meal came to an end, she rinsed her slave off and sent him back to his quarters, promising him another helping tomorrow if he behaved himself. Tomorrow, she reflected as she watched him disappear down the corridor, she would see just how hungry he really was.
