As the early morning sun began to crawl across the sky, Lady Missy awoke with a start. Her eyes snapped open and she immediately felt the urgent need to relieve herself of the considerable quantity of urine that had accumulated in her bladder during the night. Rolling off her makeshift bed of furs and cushions, she stood up, stretched her long legs, and made her way to the small garden house's toilet.
Her eyes fell upon the terrified toilet slave who had been assigned to serve her for the duration of their stay. He trembled as he saw her approach, knowing full well what was about to happen. She glanced at him nonchalantly, a slight smirk curling at the corners of her mouth. "I see you've been looking forward to this, haven't you, slave?" She asked, her voice cool and disdainful. The slave couldn't respond, his mouth still filled with the tangy mix of her faeces and piss from the previous night.
Lady Missy approached the bowl, her object of despair. She positioned herself over it, her perfect ass cheeks clenched tightly together. With a sudden force, she released a powerful stream of hot piss that gushed into the bowl, splashing against the helpless toilet slave's face and neck. He whimpered and sputtered, trying in vain to shield himself from the scalding liquid that was pouring down upon him. Missy continued to empty her bladder, taking her time to savor the look of utter hopelessness on his face.
When she finally finished peeing, she stepped back with a satisfied sigh. "Clean yourself up, slave," she commanded, not bothering to offer any assistance. The toilet slave meekly complied, using his hands to wipe away the residue from his face and body. He couldn't help but feel disgusted and degraded by the task he was forced to perform, yet he couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through him as he served his Mistress.
Once he had cleaned himself as best he could, Missy lit up a cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the cramped bathroom. The slave coughed as the smoke assailed his senses, but he remained silent and submissive. She took a long drag from her cigarette before turning to him. "Now, slave, you are to prepare my morning coffee. Do not forget, I expect it to be just the way I like it - strong and black."
With shaking hands, the toilet slave poured fresh water into the coffeemaker, adding the required amount of coffee grounds. He set it to brew, anxiously awaiting its completion. When the coffee was ready, he poured it into a mug, adding just a splash of milk to temper the strength. Then, he handed it to his Mistress who took it with a nod of approval.
For the rest of the day, Lady Missy continued to use the trembling toilet slave as her personal lavatory, relishing in the power she held over him. She would defecate and urinate into his mouth, forcing him to swallow every drop. She spat cigarette butts into his face and laughed heartily as he struggled to clean up after her. It was a never-ending cycle of degradation, but for the slave, it was his life, and he would do anything to serve his Mistress.
By nightfall, the slave was exhausted and broken, his mind and body pushed to the very limits. But he knew that tomorrow would bring another day of servitude, another night of being used as a human toilet. And despite the humiliation and despair, there was a part of him that longed for the chance to serve his Mistress once more.
