Recently, I had noticed a drastic change in my slave's physique. He seemed to have lost a considerable amount of weight, almost as if he were wasting away before my very eyes. His bones were almost visible through his stretched skin, and it wasn't pleasing to the eye at all. As his Mistress, it was my duty to ensure that he was taken care of properly, not just physically but also aesthetically. I needed to find a way to fatten him up, to make him look more desirable and appealing.
One evening, while I was sitting on the throne, an idea struck me. A rather unusual yet effective idea. I decided that I would feed my slave my own excrement to fatten him up. It was not only disgusting to me, but also highly humiliating for him. However, I reasoned that it would be for his own good. So, I gathered my courage and asked him if he would be willing to consume my waste products. Of course, he had no choice but to agree; after all, I held the key to his torture devices and his very sanity.
The next morning, I woke him up and tied him down on the floor, bindings tight around his wrists and ankles. This would ensure that he couldn't move around, even if he wanted to. I intended to feed him myself, directly from my nether regions. It was going to be quite a sight, and I hoped that it would shame him even further. I pulled my pants down and lowered my ass over his face, presenting it to him. "Here you go, slave," I said coldly. "Eat up."
At first, he hesitated, but when I pressed my feces into his mouth, he reluctantly began to chew and swallow. It was a messy process, but he managed quite well. I watched with a detached curiosity as he struggled with the texture and taste of the monstrous treat. Drool trailed down his cheek, and some of the excess waste fell from his chin and onto the floor. I wasn't going to let any food go to waste, though. Quickly, I scooped up the fallen pieces and shoved them back into his mouth.
"Now for your drink," I announced, unzipping my pants once again. This time, I placed a funnel in his mouth, allowing the thick, concentrated liquid to flow freely into his stomach. He retched and gagged, but he didn't have much choice in the matter. I watched with a twisted sense of satisfaction as he struggled with the intense flavor of my pee. It was strong, incredibly strong. But it was also nutrient-rich and full of minerals that were essential for his growth.
As if that wasn't enough, I had one last surprise for him. I produced another piece of my feces, which I proceeded to force into his open mouth. He protested weakly, but I was unmoved. This was for his own good, after all. I shoved it into his mouth and waited for him to swallow. Finally, when it was gone, I pulled away, leaving him panting and gasping for breath.
Over the next few days, I continued this disgusting regimen. My slave had no choice but to consume my excrement and drink my pee if he wanted to survive. It was humiliating for him, there was no doubt about that. But he slowly started to gain weight. His cheeks filled out, and his muscles started to become more pronounced. He looked healthier, stronger, and more appealing.
In the end, I had to admit that my plan had worked. My slave looked better than he had in months. His eyes held a newfound hunger, a desire to please his Mistress at any cost. And that was exactly how I wanted him to feel. He was mine, after all, and I intended to keep him that way - regardless of the cost.
