Unbeknownst to the helpless patient, he had been admitted to a specialized hospital wing known as the Toilet Slaves Scatology Unit. Nurses here were notorious for their voluptuous figures and sadistic tendencies. One such nurse, Mistress Raven, had been assigned to his care.
The patient was a young man named Luke. He had been brought in by ambulance, unconscious and close to death's door. His condition was critical, and he had been placed in isolation so as not to spread any potential infections. Mistress Raven, clad in her nurse's uniform that hugged her ample curves, entered the room with a confident stride.
She had been warned about Luke's condition, but that only made her more excited. This was her chance to play god and decide his fate. She approached the bed, her heels clicking against the cold floor, and checked the monitors attached to Luke's body. His heartbeat was weak, but thankfully, there was a faint pulse.
Mistress Raven smiled maliciously. The time had come to administer her unique brand of care. She lifted Luke's limp body off the bed and gently placed it on the cold floor. His head lolled to one side, revealing the saliva dripping from his mouth. She knelt next to him, running her fingers through his hair.
"Don't worry, Luke," she purred. "I'm here to help you."
She stood up, her shadow falling across Luke's body, and made her way to the bathroom. Inside, she locked the door behind her and turned on the shower. The hot water ran down the drain, washing away any potential evidence.
Mistress Raven returned to the room, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She placed a small stool next to Luke and sat down, her long legs straddling him. She reached down and grabbed his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers.
"Now, Luke," she said with a sultry tone, "I need you to trust me."
Before he could protest, she leaned down and breathed into his ear, "I'm going to check your heartbeat, and if it's still weak, I'm going to have to do something about it."
Luke felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He knew what that meant, but he couldn't move. He was helpless under Mistress Raven's gaze.
She made an act of checking on his heartbeat, placing her hand on his chest. Her breast pressed against his weakened body, and he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. Slowly, she moved her hand down his chest, towards his navel. She teased him, licking her lips as she traced circles around his belly button.
Luke's heart raced, not from fear but from anticipation. Mistress Raven was toying with him, and he didn't know how much longer he could last. She sensed his helplessness and knew she had him right where she wanted him.
Suddenly, she squatted down over him, her voluptuous behind pressing against his face. The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils as he felt her hot breath on his neck. Luke gasped for air, unsure of what was happening.
Mistress Raven whispered in his ear, "This is going to hurt, Luke. But it's for your own good."
Without warning, she took a deep breath and began to shit on his face. The warm, enveloping feeling of her dump engulfed him as he struggled to breathe through the stench. His eyes watered, and he tried desperately to move away, but his body refused to cooperate. The taste of her feces made him gag, but he couldn't escape.
As the shitting continued, Luke could feel his life force draining from him. He was helpless under Mistress Raven's control. And when she finally stood up, wiping her ass with his hospital gown, Luke lay there, covered in her filth, and whispered, "Thank you, Mistress Raven."
Despite the horrifying experience, he knew he owed her his life... or what was left of it, anyway.
