The economy had taken a severe downturn, and as a result, there were more homeless and impoverished people wandering the streets than ever before. Goddess Tempest, a wealthy individual with a strong sense of duty, knew that she had to find a way to utilize these less fortunate individuals in some way. As someone blessed with wealth and fortune, she felt it was her responsibility to give back to society. And so, an idea sparked within her twisted mind – why not turn the downtrodden into toilets for the rich and affluent?
It wasn't the most humane solution, but it was one that made sense from a utilitarian standpoint. The wealthy would enjoy far more pleasurable bowel movements knowing that someone was there, patiently waiting to receive their waste products. In turn, the poor would have something to eat; albeit unconventional and revolting, it was better than eating out of garbage cans or going hungry. Goddess Tempest felt her heart grow cold as she considered her plan's merits.
She began scouring the streets for suitable candidates – people who had fallen on hard times but were still relatively clean and free of disease. The first one she found was a young man with hollow eyes and ragged clothing. She approached him confidently, her high heels clacking against the pavement as he looked up at her in anticipation.
"Excuse me, sir," she began in a commanding tone. "I have a proposition for you." The man hesitated before nodding his head, not quite understanding what was about to unfold. "You see," Goddess Tempest continued, her jewelry glinting in the light, "I want you to serve as a toilet for me."
The man recoiled in horror, disgust written all over his face. But she spoke quickly, not giving him time to protest. "Listen carefully. In return, you'll get a meal made from my waste – it may not be gourmet cuisine, but it will fill your belly and give you some sustenance." The man's expression shifted from disgust to hunger, and Goddess Tempest knew she had him.
Without further ado, she ushered him into a luxurious bathroom in her mansion, where she undressed and proceeded to have him bend over a golden commode. As he waited nervously, she indulged in a sumptuous meal, deliberately packing her meals with enough bulk to ensure three turds would come out. When she was finished, she smiled cruelly at him and commanded him to eat her waste.
His first reaction was one of revulsion, but hunger eventually took over, forcing him to swallow the foul-tasting feces. He struggled initially, gagging and retching, but eventually, he got the hang of it. And so, the cycle began – every time Goddess Tempest needed to use the bathroom, she'd summon one of these poor souls to consume her waste, much to the delight of her rich friends, who would watch with split-brain reactions of repulsion and arousal.
Her next steps were brutally calculated: make the poor man fight for his meal. She would only relieve herself on him once he managed to dig out a third turd with his tongue. His eyes watered, his cheeks bulged, but he couldn't get the disgusting task over with fast enough. Finally, he succeeded, and she rewarded him with another heaping mouthful of her fecal matter. "There," she said harshly. "You can go now."
The man stumbled out of the bathroom, his expression a mixture of shame and gratitude. Outside, Goddess Tempest stood triumphantly, surveying the city's streets. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at the efficiency of her plan – feeding two birds with one stone: the rich could enjoy their bowel movements without guilt, and the poor could survive on what little nourishment could be found in human waste.
But while she reveled in her own genius, a small part of her felt guilty for exploiting these people so horror. They were human beings, after all, not animals to be used for someone else's gain. She told herself it was for the greater good, that there were worse fates than serving as a toilet for the wealthy elite. Deep down, however, she knew this twisted fantasy was just that – a fantasy.
