The sun shone brightly outside, casting a warm glow over the lush garden as Violet walked through it. She was stunningly beautiful, with long wavy hair that swayed gently and full, round hips that swayed enticingly with every step she took. Her skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, making her appear all the more alluring. She moved with the grace of one who knows they own the world, and unbeknownst to her, she was about to acquire something that would make her even more powerful – a toilet slave.
As she approached her opulent mansion, she heard a muffled noise coming from the servant quarters. Perturbed, she made her way over to the door and entered, wondering what could be causing such a racket. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she saw a man kneeling before one of the toilets, his head buried deep in the bowl, tongue lapping up whatever was left within. His back was arched slightly, offering his plump asscheeks to her view, and even from this angle, she could see the visible wet spot on his panties.
"What do you think you're doing?!" She practically shrieked, startling the man out of his trance-like state. He whimpered as he tried to pull himself away from the toilet, his face burning red with shame.
"I-I'm sorry, Mistress Violet," he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of his embarrassment. "I couldn't help myself; it smelled so good!"
Violet's eyes narrowed in curiosity, and an idea began to form in her mind. She had always wondered what it would be like to have a toilet slave, someone who would worship at the altar of her bowels. She decided to take a chance on this man; after all, it seemed like he had some experience already. "Stand up," she commanded, her voice taking on a huskier tone.
Slowly, the man rose to his feet, his face still red with humiliation. He couldn't believe what was happening but was too scared not to obey. "Remove your panties," she ordered next, and he quickly did as he was told, stepping out of them tentatively. "Now bend over," she instructed, and he complied once more, lifting his ass high in the air for her inspection.
"Very good," she purred, her eyes traveling up and down his exposed rear. "From now on, your only purpose will be to serve me and my toilet needs. You will lick my asshole clean after every time I take a shit, and you will enjoy it."
The man trembled at her words, not understanding how he could possibly enjoy such a thing, but he knew better than to question his Mistress. As the days went by, he learned to love his new role as a toilet slave. He would kneel by the toilet, tongue held in anticipation of her next move, waiting for the rush of warm liquid to fill his mouth when she relieved herself. He would clean her with his tongue, lapping up every drop of her divine nectar, savoring the taste of her ass.
One day, as he knelt before her, she seemed to be taking much longer than usual on the toilet. He couldn't help but wonder what was taking her so long. Finally, he heard a loud sigh, and she pushed out a massive log of shit, bigger than anything he had seen before. Before he could react, she nudged it towards his face with her foot, signaling for him to begin. He tentatively reached out, his tongue darting out to taste the tip of the log.
It was even more delicious than he remembered; she tasted like heaven on earth. His tongue dove deeper into her wet asshole, licking every inch of her crevice as he savored the taste that lingered in his mouth. She moaned in pleasure, her hands running through his hair as she ordered him to "ass worship". He obeyed, sucking on her asshole like a Popsicle, tasting both the shit and her juices mixed together.
As the weeks passed, they became more comfortable with each other. She would often reciprocate by licking his ass after he had used the toilet, praising him for his "AssLickGood" skills. He found himself growing to love the feeling of her tongue inside him, and he became an expert in making her toilet tasty for her. They developed a strange bond over their shared love for ass-to-mouth activity, one that neither of them understood but couldn't live without.
One day, Violet declared that it was time for her final test. She ordered him to kneel down before a trained cheetah – her favorite pet – and make it sniff his face. The cat growled menacingly, its muscles rippling under its sleek fur. "Lick its asshole clean, slave," she said with a sinister grin, "And show it who's boss."
The man knelt down, unsure of what he was doing, but trusting in his Mistress. The cheetah lowered itself to the ground, giving him an opportunity to lick its asshole. He obliged, tentatively extending his tongue towards the creature's rear. To his surprise, the cat didn't attack; instead, it seemed to enjoy the attention. After a few minutes, the cheetah released a loud fart, filling the air with a noxious stench. But the man didn't hesitate; he dove straight in, savoring the taste of the foul gas mixed with the cat's musk. The cheetah purred contentedly before bounding away.
As he rose from his position, he looked up at Violet, feeling a sense of pride wash over him. He had passed her final test, and he knew that he was hers forever. From that day on, he vowed to be the best toilet slave he could be, always ready to serve his Mistress and her every need.
