Master Faith sprawled across his luxurious bed, one arm flung over his eyes as he tried to block out the harsh morning light. His gaze turned towards the usually invisible leash tethering him to his toiletslave, but it was still asleep. He let out a frustrated huff, turning over to face the wall.
His mind flashed back to the previous night's activities. His slave had been unfailingly devoted, crawling over to give him a blowjob the moment he'd entered the room. It'd been a long day at the office, and the feeling of the warm, slick (and not entirely unwelcome) tongue laving his cock had been just what he needed.
As he'd grown bolder, he'd ordered the toiletslave to lick his sweaty balls, making sure to promptly apply a fresh coat of his own saliva to them. He'd felt the slave's tongue darting out tentatively at first, before growing bolder. A small growl escaped from his throat, spurring him on to command the slave to clean his dirty ass as well.
His slave dutifully crawled between his legs, tongue outstretched, ready to obey. Master Faith gripped his ass cheeks tightly, feeling the warm, wet tongue lapping at his hole. The sensation was foreign, oddly arousing - and so, he pushed further. He reached down to the bedside table and retrieved a glass dildo, slowly pushing it into the slave's mouth.
He'd enjoyed that, too - the sight of his slave choking on the glass cock, its tip protruding from between its lips. Then, he'd grabbed a fist-sized chunk of lube and forced it into the slave's ass, making it squeal in pain. He'd continued, pushing the lube deeper and deeper until his slave was completely stuffed full.
It was at that point that he noticed the smear of shit on the slave's ass. His brow furrowed in confusion for a moment - but then he realized. He'd fisted the slave while it was taking a dump earlier, hadn't he? A devious grin curled across his lips. Reaching for the slave's penis, he rubbed the shit onto it, making sure it was well coated.
"Taste your own filth," he hissed, almost a whisper. He could feel a strangely potent mix of emotions - arousal, amusement, and a deep sense of satisfaction that he was controlling another person's body and mind so completely.
Finally, with one last, lingering glance at the squirming slave beneath him, he got up and left. "You have one week," he said, his voice ringing with authority. "If you cannot... clean yourself up within that time, you will be punished. I'll give you a hint: it involves being locked in chastity for another month."
He didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he slammed the door behind him, leaving the slavelet to its lonely, shameful thoughts. As he walked away, he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride - and anticipation for what would come next.
