As I waited nervously for my Mistress Anna to arrive, my heart raced with anticipation and fear. It was a strange combination of emotions, but I knew that serving her would be an experience like no other. She had asked me to be her personal toilet, and I had willingly submitted myself to her command.
When the doorbell rang, I couldn't help but jump at the sound. As soon as I opened the door, her presence filled the room. She was radiant in a beautiful dress, her leather boots making a soft click-clack sound against the hardwood floor. I knelt before her, lowering my head in submission as tears began to well up in my eyes.
"You may look at me," she commanded softly, her voice causing vibrations that resonated through my body. I looked up at her, trembling with excitement and fear. She gazed down at me with a mix of cruelty and compassion, her lips curling into a gentle smile.
"I have decided that since this is your first time serving me," she said, reaching out to stroke my cheek, "I will give you a gift. I am going to allow you to eat my shit from the floor." Her fingers trailed down my chin, pushing my face closer to the ground.
With a sense of humiliation and pride, I lowered my face to the floor, positioning myself in front of the offering she had left for me. I could feel the warmth radiating from her gifts, and the sweet smell filled my nostrils. It was an intoxicating aroma, one that sent shivers down my spine.
"Do not get too comfortable," she warned, her foot pressing against my back, sending me sliding across the floor. "The right to have me sit on a throne above you has to be earned over time. Until then, remember that you are nothing but a toilet slave."
Her words stung, but I welcomed the pain. It was a part of the experience, and I embraced it fully. As I began to eat, the taste took me to a new level of pleasure. It was both musky and sweet, with a hint of bitterness that made my senses tingle.
I devoured every last morsel, savoring the feeling of submission and humiliation that coursed through my veins. As I nursed the gift inside my body, I felt a sense of accomplishment and pride. I had pleased my Mistress Anna, and nothing else mattered.
When I finally stood up to face her, my eyes were shining with tears of joy. She looked down at me, her expression a mix of amusement and admiration. "You are a good toilet slave," she said softly, placing a gentle hand on my cheek. "I hope to see you again soon."
The session had been extraordinary, and I knew that serving her would always be a part of me. I had no doubt that other slaves would want to experience what I had, and I couldn't help but urge them to apply. Serving Mistress Anna was a gift, one that could only be understood by those who had endured the brutal honesty and humiliation that came with it. It was a privilege that I would cherish for the rest of my life.
