I walked into the bathroom, feeling the familiar weight on my bladder. It was never a comfortable feeling, but today it seemed to be more intense than usual. As I approached the toilet, I saw my slave lying on the floor, his peaceful expression indicating that he was still asleep. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to wake him up. I didn't want to disturb his rest, but I needed to use the toilet and I wasn't sure if he would be able to handle the situation if I didn't prepare him first.
I gently nudged his arm, "Slave," my voice was soft but firm. "Wake up."
His eyes fluttered open slowly, and he looked at me with a frown, clearly not fully awake yet. "Mistress?"
"It's time," I said, my voice taking on a commanding tone. "Get up."
He groaned, rolled onto his side, and sat up slowly, his eyes still adjusting to the light in the room. He didn't question what I meant by "it's time"—he knew that any time I woke him up during the day, it was because I needed him to do something for me. He stood up and stretched, yawning widely before approaching the toilet.
I sat down on the seat, my heart racing now. This was going to be an... unusual task. I squirmed a little, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over me. The slave knelt down next to me and placed his hands on my thighs, looking at me with worried eyes. "Mistress, are you alright?" he asked softly.
"Just do your job," I replied tersely.
He nodded, understanding the tone I had taken. He reached out and gently placed his hands on my ass, massaging me like he had dozens of times before. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the image of my own toilet from my thoughts, focusing instead on his touch and the image of his face covered in my shit.
I sighed deeply, feeling the pressure in my abdomen increase. Suddenly, a hot, burning sensation spread through my lower region, and I knew I couldn't hold it in any longer. I let out a cry of relief as I felt my loose bowels empty into the toilet bowl. The warm stream of shit poured into the bowl, filling it up quickly. It felt... weirdly satisfying, knowing that my slave was going to be the one to clean it all up.
I slid off the toilet seat and stood up, stepping out of the way. The smell of freshly emptied toilet was strong, and I could see that the slave was struggling not to gag. He took a deep breath and reached into the toilet, scooping out a large amount of my shit with his hand. The foul stench made my eyes water, but I held my ground.
"What are you waiting for?" I demanded. "Eat it up."
He hesitated for a moment, his face contorted with disgust. "Mistress, it's too—"
"Too loose for your taste?" I interrupted, my voice raising in anger. "You'll like it when I spread it all over your face and make you lick it directly from the toilet seat!"
He swallowed hard and nodded, sliding onto the floor so that he was closer to the toilet. He smeared the thick, chunky mixture on his tongue and cheeks, groaning at the unpleasant taste. I watched with sick fascination as he swallowed every last bit, savoring the sight of my shit in his mouth.
"Drink it all, slave," I commanded, reaching for a cup of water.
He looked up at me with fearful eyes, seeing the water in my hand. "Drink it?" he asked, his voice shaky.
"Yes, drink it," I repeated, nodding. "Every last drop."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and tilting the cup to his lips. He drank slowly at first, choking on the foul liquid, but eventually forced himself to gulp it down. I watched as he opened his mouth, showing me the empty cup.
"Good boy," I praised him, reaching down to caress his cheek with the back of my hand. "Now clean the toilet properly."
He nodded, dipping the toilet brush into the remaining mess and scrubbing at the bowl. It was a dirty job, and I knew it would take him a while, but I left him alone to do it. As he worked, I could see the look of disgust on his face, but there was also an underlying sense of submission. This was his purpose, to serve me no matter how degrading the task might be.
I walked out of the bathroom, feeling oddly satisfied with myself. My slave was a good servant—one who wouldn't question or argue with me even when faced with the most unpleasant of tasks. As I closed the door behind me, I couldn't help but wonder what other disgusting things I would make him do in the future...
