In the lavish bathroom of her penthouse apartment, Dea Samantha was feeling annoyed with her human toilet slave. He was late again and it was time for him to clean up her morning bowel movement. Instead of waiting, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Relaxing her body, she allowed a huge turd to fall from her barely-penetrated asshole onto a silver platter.
The smell was overpowering as she admired her artwork: a perfect sausage-shaped log of shit. She could hear her slave's anxious knocking on the door. Smiling devilishly, she called out for him to enter.
Her slave, trembling with fear but also excitement, walked into the room. His eyes widened at the sight before him: his beautiful mistress, naked from the waist down, standing over a silver platter holding an enormous turd.
"Good morning, slave," she greeted him coolly. "Your doctor advised you to eat more of my shit for your health, didn't he?" She paused for effect before continuing, "Well, today you're going to get a real treat. Eat it!"
The slave hesitated for a moment before leaning in close to the plate. He could feel the warmth radiating from the turd as it glistened in the morning light. His mouth watered with anticipation as he knelt down and carefully picked up the turd in his shaking hands.
He positioned it between his lips and took a tentative bite. The taste was surprisingly pleasant: there was a hint of vanilla and a slight saltiness that made him want more. He eagerly began devouring the shit on the plate, feeling its nutrients filling his body as he swallowed it down.
"Mmmmm, that's my good boy," Dea Samantha purred, stroking his hair affectionately. "You know you're not allowed to be late again, understand? This is a special treat just for you today."
As he finished the last bite of her shit, the slave felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him. He knew that this was just one of many humiliations he would endure at his mistress's hands, but he also knew that he couldn't live without her. He stood up slowly, ready to face whatever else she had in store for him.
"Now," Dea Samantha commanded, her voice regal and authoritative, "go back to your cell and wait for my next order."
The slave bowed his head in submission before backing out of the room, leaving his mistress alone once again with her throne of shit.
