The next day, the slave entered Princess Rachel's chambers, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew what awaited him and could barely contain his terror as he knelt before her. The princess looked down at him, her cold eyes filled with cruel amusement. She licked her lips, tilting her head slightly as if to assess his readiness.
"Well, well, well," she purred, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look at you, all pressed and shiny. You must be excited." The slave stayed silent, his head bowed in submission. Princess Rachel chuckled darkly, her fingers idly playing with the hem of her silk robe.
Then, without warning, she kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him tumbling backward. The air whooshed out of his lungs, and he coughed and sputtered as he tried to catch his breath. The princess sauntered over to him, her high heels click-clacking on the marble floor. She stood over him, her face inches from his, the smell of her perfume causing him to choke again.
"Pathetic creature," she spat, her breath warm on his face. She reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back so that he was looking up at her. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he waited for her next move.
"Today," she whispered menacingly, her hot breath fanning his flushed cheeks, "I feel like performing a little experiment on you." She released his hair and stepped back, watching as he climbed shakily to his feet.
"Follow me," she commanded, turning and walking away. The slave obeyed, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Princess Rachel led him to a large, ornate bowl filled with dark brown liquid. Without a word, she shoved him forward until he was standing at the edge of the bowl.
"Now," she said quietly, almost absently, as if she were discussing the weather. "Let's see what happens when I dump this over you." She tipped the contents of a chamber pot onto his head, and he gagged as the warm, foul-smelling liquid ran down his face and into his open mouth.
The princess watched with cold satisfaction as he choked and sputtered, trying desperately to get free from the bonds that held him in place. She continued to pour the disgusting mess over his head, laughing as he slipped and slid in the mess he was standing in.
Finally, satisfied with her "experiment," she ordered him to clean up the mess. She watched with an air of amused detachment as he groveled around on his hands and knees, trying to gather up as much of the filth as he could. Once he had managed to clear a small space, she pointed him towards a corner of the room.
"Stay there," she commanded. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she summoned her personal maid. "See to it that this room is spotless," she ordered, indicating the mess with a wave of her hand. The maid nodded, her expression unreadable as she set to work cleaning up the princess's mess.
As the slave watched, his heart breaking with each passing moment, he realized that his life would never be his again. Princess Rachel owned him body and soul, and she would use him however she wished, until he was no more than a broken, pathetic husk of a man. And even then, he knew she would find some other way to torment and humiliate him.
