Mistress Aria, a beautiful and dominant woman, woke up feeling quite ill. Her stomach was in knots, and she could already feel the beginnings of a nasty case of diarrhea churning within her intestines. With a sigh, she rose from her bed and made her way to the bathroom.
As soon as she sat down on the toilet, the dam broke. A warm, explosive gush of watery feces burst forth, filling the bowl in an instant. It was followed by a second, even more forceful surge that sent bubbles of shit flying up into the air around her.
A cruel grin spread across Mistress Aria's face as she realized what an embarrassing situation this would put her poor slave in. She had been planning this little "interaction" for some time now, and she was eager to see how he would react.
With that thought in mind, she flushed the toilet and washed her hands quickly - but only after carefully sampling a bit of the diarrhea that clung to her fingers. It was warm and squishy, with the faintest hint of sweetness that she found intensely arousing.
She found her slave waiting for her in the hallway, quivering with anticipation. He could tell from the look on her face that he was in trouble, but he couldn't possibly imagine just how bad it was going to be.
"Well, slave," Mistress Aria purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Since you're always complaining about how messy I am, I thought you might like to clean up a bit. After all, I wouldn't want any of my sweet germs to go to waste!"
With that, she produced a plastic bag filled with rubber gloves - a sure sign of just how messy things were going to get. The slave trembled as she snapped one pair of gloves onto her right hand and another onto her left.
"Open wide," she commanded, pushing him forcefully against the wall. He obeyed, his mouth pulled wide open in anticipation of whatever disgusting treat she was about to subject him to.
And then she did it. She lowered her gloved hand, coated in a thick, gooey layer of diarrhea, and shoved it roughly into his mouth. The warm, viscous substance flooded his mouth and tongue, and he gagged violently as she pushed more and more of it down his throat.
"Swallow," she grunted, slapping him across the face. "Every last drop. You'll thank me later."
The slave did as he was told, swallowing the foul-tasting mixture of feces and saliva as fast as he could. Mistress Aria withdrew her hand, leaving him sputtering and gasping for air. She repeated the process with her other hand, this time aiming the flow of diarrhea directly at his face.
"Drink it up, slave," she hissed. "Every drop. And when you're done, you can start cleaning me properly."
With that, she withdrew the gloves and the bag, leaving him to clean up the mess himself. The slave trembled as he knelt there in the puddle of shit, knowing that his mistress was watching him closely. He could feel her eyes boring into his back, and he could almost swear he could hear her cruel laughter echoing in his ears.
Slowly, hesitantly, he reached into the puddle and began touching the cold, slimy mess. He felt it squish between his fingers, and the smell was overpowering - a mix of rotten eggs, ammonia, and pure filth. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the memories of the taste and the smell, but he knew he would never forget this humiliating day.
As he cleaned, his mind wandered back to the taste of his mistress's diarrhea. Despite himself, he found himself growing hard in his pants. He couldn't believe how turned on he was by this whole situation - by the thought of being covered in his mistress's filth, by the idea of eating and drinking her waste, and by the thought of being her willing slave for all time.
It was a sick and twisted thought, but it filled him with a strange kind of joy. He knew that there was no going back now - he was hers, body and soul. And he had to admit, he liked it that way.
