Mistress Mystique looked down at her phone, brow furrowed in annoyance as she read the message from her slave. It seemed that once again, he was struggling with their usual arrangement – copious amounts of food followed by copious amounts of shitting. But with every bout of constipation came the inevitable clogged toilet, and that just wouldn't do.
"Dear slave," she began, tapping out a message on her phone, "I see you're having issues again. Well, you know what they say: when Mistress Mystique needs something done, she does it herself." With that, she slid her phone into her pocket, grabbed her purse, and made her way towards the bathroom.
Stepping inside, she locked the door behind her and took a look around. The bathroom was small and unassuming, like any other in an affluent apartment complex. But it didn't take long for Mistress Mystique to spot the problem – as expected, the toilet was clogged.
She rolled up her sleeves and got to work, reaching for the plunger under the sink. With a deft movement, she placed the flattened end of the plunger over the clog and started to push down firmly, creating a vacuum. The first few tries produced only a feeble spluttering sound, but Mistress Mystique didn't let up. She kept pushing, grunting with the effort, her muscles straining against the task at hand.
It wasn't long before her persistence paid off – with one final, powerful thrust, the clog burst through and the contents of the toilet shot out in a foul-smelling mess. But instead of disgust, all Mistress Mystique could feel was satisfaction. She'd done it again – conquered yet another challenge with ease.
She wiped her hands on a nearby towel, wondering idly what other challenges were in store for her. The thought only made her more determined to face them all – after all, she was Mistress Mystique, and she loved every second of it.
