In the dingy back room of a smelly old warehouse, the Goddess Kitra sat on her royal throne, surveying her surroundings with a look of utter contempt. Around her were rows upon rows of cages containing her slaves, each one awaiting their turn to become her personal travel toilet. She remained motionless for several moments, allowing herself to feel the power that coursed through her veins. She was the ultimate being, and these pathetic creatures were nothing more than playthings for her amusement.
With a dismissive wave of her hand, one of the cages slid open, and out stepped a young man whose entire being trembled with fear. He dropped to his knees before her, his eyes fixed on the cold floor, knowing full well that to look upon her face was a death sentence. She raised her hand, motioning for him to stand up, which he did, his knees shaking violently.
She pointed towards a small hole in the ground, "Your turn to be my travel toilet," she said in a tone that could freeze water. "Lie down, open your mouth, and swallow everything I give you. And remember," she paused for effect, "anything else will result in your immediate death."
The young man knelt down, his heart thundering in his chest as he stared into the abyss that was her toilet hole. He could already smell the rancid stench emanating from her asshole, and his stomach churned with nausea. But he knew better than to disobey her. With shaking hands, he positioned himself over the hole and waited for her commands.
Slowly, she lowered herself onto his face, her massive weight pressing him into the filthy ground. He felt her warm breath on his neck and closed his eyes, trying to block out the sight and smell of her. His mouth opened involuntarily, and he felt something hot and slimy pressing against his tongue. He tried to gag, but the smell was so overpowering that he couldn't resist the urge to swallow.
She pushed more of her shit into his mouth, feeling it slide down his throat like warm syrup. He tried to wriggle out from under her, but she held him immobile with a single hand, using him like a human stool. He could feel himself choking on her feces, but there was nothing he could do except take it.
Finally, she was finished, and with a satisfied sigh, she pulled herself off of him, sending him crashing to the ground. He lay there, gasping for breath, trying to comprehend what had just happened. His mouth was coated in a thick layer of her feces, and his stomach churned with nausea. But he knew there was nothing he could do except wait for his next turn.
And so, the cycle continued, every day, every hour, every minute filled with the same horror and degradation. The young man's life had become nothing more than a desperate struggle to survive until the next time he felt the cold kiss of death against his cheek.
