Lady Johanna Syrkay was in no mood for nonsense today. The pile of dirty clothes had been growing in her ironing chamber, and she needed to get it done before the evening party. Her slave, known as 00, had been assigned to clean the ironing chamber but seemed to be dragging his feet. He had been licking his lips nervously, his eyes darting around the room as if expecting a punishment.
Mistress Johanna sighed impatiently, pushing away the thought of punishing him after seeing his terrified state. Instead, she decided to use him for something else - her toilet. She had cursed the day she acquired him, as he was completely useless. Cursed his tiny, terrified cock, which barely deserved the name. Nevertheless, it would have to do today.
With a commanding voice, Mistress Johanna spoke, "Slave, come here." 00 trembled as he approached his mistress, his eyes filled with fear. She glared at him, unimpressed by his trembling. "You're too slow, slave," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll give you a task that might actually be within your capabilities."
00's heart sank when he heard what she had in mind. He tried to protest, but before he could even utter a word, Mistress Johanna grabbed him by the collar and dragged him towards the ironing chamber. The room smelled of sweat and dirty clothes, and it was clear that 00 hadn't done much work there.
With a swift kick to his backside, Mistress Johanna pushed him inside the ironing chamber. "Clean this room," she ordered. "And make sure you don't miss anything." She closed the door behind her, leaving him alone with the pile of dirty laundry and his dreadful task.
As 00 began cleaning the ironing chamber, he couldn't help but feel disgusted. He hated being used like this - as nothing more than a toilet for his mistress. His heart sank even deeper when he saw the state of the chamber - it was covered in his mistress's filth.
Sighing in resignation, he got down on his hands and knees and began cleaning the floor. His heart raced as he thought about his mistress's impending toilet, wondering how he would survive the ordeal. Just then, he felt a warm trickle run down his thigh. He looked down and saw that he had soiled himself.
A wave of shame washed over him as he realized how pathetic he was. He tried to wipe the mess with his sleeve, but it only made it worse. As the smell of his own feces filled the room, he couldn't help but feel even more worthless.
Hours passed, and 00 was still scrubbing away at the filth in the ironing chamber. His back ached, his hands were raw, and he could barely keep his eyes open. Just when he thought he was almost done, he saw a large brown stain on the floor. With a trembling hand, he reached down to investigate.
It was then that he realized it wasn't a stain - it was a turd. His mistress had taken a crap in the ironing chamber and just left it there. Suddenly, he didn't feel so bad about soiling himself.
As he continued to clean the ironing chamber, 00 couldn't help but wonder why he even bothered. He was nothing but a slave, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape his miserable existence. All he could do was wait for his next humiliating task, hoping against hope that it wouldn't involve his mistress's toilet.
