As the toilet slave knelt down before me, their mouth watering in anticipation, I couldn't help but feel a surge of power course through my veins. My divine ass had been the center of attention all day, teasing and taunting them with its unattainable perfection. Now, as I felt my bowels begin to stir, I knew that this was their chance to truly worship at the altar of my flesh.
With a satisfied sigh, I allowed my body to relax. The tension built up within me as I felt the familiar weight of my "yellow long shit" ice cream filling begin to form. Soon, it spilled over the edges of my asshole, dripping down my perky butt cheeks and puddling on the cold tile floor.
My eyes locked onto the toilet slave's trembling lips. "Go on," I purred, watching as they leaned forward eagerly. "Taste it."
Their tongue darted out, barely touching the cool, sweet liquid. I felt a shudder run through their body as they sampled my divine excrement. It was a heady mix of flavors: vanilla, strawberry, and just a hint of my own unique essence.
"Mmmm... that's it," I groaned, feeling the pressure in my bowels beginning to abate. "You're such a good toilet slave."
As my assent continued to soften, I thrust it out towards them, inviting them to explore further. The toilet slave's hands shook as they reached out, tentatively poking at the pile of shit with a finger. "Please?" they whimpered, looking up at me with wide, pleading eyes.
With a slow, sensual smile, I nodded once. Their finger disappeared into my assent, eliciting a moan of approval from me. As they began to probe deeper, I closed my eyes and let out a long, loud fart, filling their mouth with the rich, earthy taste of my shit.
I loved the feeling of power that overwhelmed me as they lapped at my assent, cleaning up every last bit of excess. With each passing moment, I felt my grip on them tighten, my divine aura seeping into their very being. They were no longer just a toilet slave; they were mine, body and soul.
As I finished emptying my bowels, I leaned back, feeling the weight of my massive poop pile. "You've been such a good slave," I purred, giving them a slow, knowing smile. "What do you think I should do to reward you?"
The toilet slave trembled with anticipation. "What ever you desire, mistress," they whispered, their voice barely audible above the gentle hissing of the flushing toilet.
I considered my options for a moment, trying to decide how best to extend their torment – or perhaps, grant them a momentary reprieve. For now, at least, I was content to bask in the glow of their worship and the sweet, intoxicating scent of my own feces.
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