In the ancient world, there was a powerful goddess named Kitra who ruled over her human subjects with an iron fist. Her will was law, and those who dared to defy her faced severe consequences. Among her many followers were men who willingly surrendered themselves to her, desperate to please the all-powerful deity.
One such man, referred to as the 'Slave', found himself in Kitra's presence. She was seated upon her throne, her long, flowing robes billowing around her as a symbol of her divine power. The Slave knelt before her, head bowed in submission, ready to serve however she commanded.
With a wave of her hand, Kitra signaled for the Slave to approach. As he stepped forward, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and reverence towards the goddess. "You have pleased me, my slave," she said, her voice echoing through the chamber. "Now it's time to prove your devotion."
With that, she stood up, revealing herself in all her glory. The Slave gasped as he saw her perfectly sculpted body, adorned with jewels and shimmering garments. Kitra's eyes glinted with amusement at his reaction. "Kneel before me, my slave," she commanded.
The Slave obeyed, lowering himself to the ground before her. Kitra descended from her throne and stood before him, towering over him like a mountain. "You are nothing," she whispered in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. "You exist only to serve me."
She turned and walked towards a large marble basin, its surface shimmering with water. Without further instruction, the Slave knew what he had to do. He followed her, his heart pounding in his chest. As he reached the basin, Kitra seated herself upon a throne-like object, her eyes fixed on him.
The Slave knelt before the basin, his eyes fixed on the goddess. With a wave of her hand, she indicated for him to lift the heavy iron toilet seat cover. Slowly, he did as he was told, revealing the bowl below. "You will clean it," Kitra commanded. "And when you are finished, you will present it to me."
The Slave dipped his head in submission, then began to clean the basin. As he worked, he could feel Kitra's eyes boring into him, judging his every move. He scrubbed and scrubbed, willing to do anything to please her.
Finally, the basin was spotless. With trembling hands, the Slave lifted the now-empty toilet seat cover and presented it to Kitra. She reached out and took it from him, inspecting it carefully. "You have pleased me, my slave," she said at last. "You may rest now."
The Slave collapsed to the ground, exhausted but triumphant. He had pleased his goddess, and that was all that mattered. As he drifted off to sleep, he could hear her soft voice echoing through his mind: "I will remember your devotion, my slave. I will remember."
