Mistress Nyx was a beautiful and dominant woman who owned a slave. She enjoyed humiliating him in various ways, stripping away his sense of self-worth until he existed solely to serve her. One day, she decided to humiliate him further by making him wear out his knees on the floor, leashed to her bedpost like a dog.
The next morning, still exhausted from his degrading night, the slave awoke to find Mistress Nyx standing over him, ready for the next round of dehumanization. She forced him to get on his hands and knees, then pushed him towards the bathroom. Once inside, she ordered him to wait outside the door while she used the toilet.
His heart raced as he heard her entering the bathroom. He could feel her presence, and the humiliation was almost too much to bear. But he knew better than to disobey his Mistress. As she sat on the toilet, she glanced over at him, smirking.
"You know what I need, slave?" she asked casually, her tone making his stomach churn with fear and anticipation. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "I need a footrest. Come here and kneel at my feet while I take care of business."
With tears welling up in his eyes, the slave knelt down in front of her, his back aching from being on all fours for so long. He could feel her warm breath against his sweaty skin as she began to use his body as a footrest. His face burrowed into the soft carpet fibers as her stockinged feet found purchase on his head.
"Oh, that's much better," Mistress Nyx purred, allowing herself to relax into his grip. "Now, hold onto my feet tightly. You don't want me to fall in that disgusting toilet, do you?"
As she sat there, she gently massaged her soles against his scalp, using him as a living foot massager. The sensation was both degrading and oddly comforting; it was all he knew now. After a few minutes, she stood up, the weight of her body causing him to groan in pain.
"Now, move aside," she commanded, stepping out of the bathroom. "I need you to hold my seat covering while I take a dump."
The slave struggled to his feet, still trembling with humiliation and anticipation. He looked up at her and nodded, doing his best to maintain eye contact while grabbing onto the edge of the toilet seat cover. Mistress Nyx locked eyes with him before lowering herself back onto the toilet, this time without any restraint.
As she sat there, she sighed contently, the warmth of her body radiating against his skin. She began to move her ass, grinding against him, using his body as a living dildo. The sensation was overwhelming, blending the last shreds of his humanity away.
"That's it, slave," she purred, leaning forward to grab hold of his chin. "You're nothing but a toy to me. A living piece of furniture. And you'd better never forget it."
With that, she finished her business and stood up, pulling the toilet paper roll through his crotch. The sultry look she gave him as she wiped herself was all the confirmation he needed of his new purpose. He was nothing more than a tool for Mistress Nyx's pleasure and humiliation, and he would serve her until she decided otherwise.
