As the day dawned, the goddess woke up feeling slightly discontent. She longed for something to make her smile and cheer her up. Recalling one of her favorite pastimes, she decided to call her toilet slave to assist her in the bathtub while she showered. Glancing at the clock, she realized she was running late for work and needed to get ready fast.
With a wave of her hand, the goddess summoned her toilet slave. He appeared before her instantly, his head bowed respectfully. "Toilet slave," she said, her voice sharp with command, "prepare the bathtub for my arrival." Without hesitation, the slave scurried off to fulfill her orders.
The goddess slipped into the steaming hot bathwater, letting out a contented sigh. She leaned back against the tub, closing her eyes as the warmth seeped into her body. As she savored the moment, however, she couldn't ignore the growing discomfort in her lower abdomen. Her bowels were starting to rumble—and loudly.
Feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement, the goddess decided to change the course of events. A wicked smile spread across her face as an idea formed in her mind. "Wait, slave," she called out, "I've changed my mind."
The toilet slave stopped what he was doing and turned towards her, confusion written all over his face. "My lady?"
"I want you to lay down on the bathtub instead," she instructed. "I need someone to help me with... other matters."
The toilet slave's eyes widened in horror. This was humiliation beyond measure—to be used as a human toilet seat. But he had no choice but to obey. Slowly, he crawled onto the cool marble surface of the bathtub.
As the goddess watched, her stomach rumbled once more, this time more forcefully. She gripped the sides of the tub, preparing herself for what was about to come. With a deep breath, she released her bowels into the pink, seethrough panties that she had placed on the slave's face moments earlier.
Loose and watery feces splashed against the slave's cheeks, dripping down onto the floor. The goddess couldn't hold back her laughter as she watched him squirm in discomfort. "Oh, how amusing this is," she chuckled, wiping away a tear of joy.
But the goddess wasn't finished yet. Her diarrhea had started now and there was more to come. She grabbed a latex glove and pushed her hand into the slave's mouth, forcing him to open wide. With a cruel grin, she began scooping up the watery mess and stuffing it into his mouth.
The toilet slave could taste the feces and vomit rising in his throat, but there was no escape. As he gagged and choked, the goddess laughed heartily, her body shaking with mirth. This, she thought, was the best medicine for what ailed her.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the goddess was satisfied. She withdrew her gloved hand, and the toilet slave collapsed onto the floor, retching and sobbing in humiliation. The goddess studied him for a moment before speaking. "Clean up this mess," she commanded. "Then, you may go."
With one last glance at the toilet slave, the goddess got out of the bathtub and made her way to the office. As she sat at her desk, she couldn't help but smile. Yes, today had been a good day after all. And her toilet slave? He would be remembered as one of her most loyal servants—even if it meant ending up as her personal toilet.
