Your Throne Beneath Me
Love to Shit Girls
A Feast of Humiliation
His long-awaited dream is finally realized, though for him, it is a bittersweet ************. I have prepared a colossal portion of thick, viscous filth, its pungent aroma already beginning to permeate the entire chamber. After a week of fasting and rigorous preparation for this very moment, he is now ravenous and utterly helpless against the overwhelming flavor. At my command, he assumed his position on the floor, and the wait was brief. Enormous, weighty waves of creamy degradation began to cascade directly into his mouth, coating his face and chest in a foul glaze. I witness a turbulent mix of desperation and avarice in his gaze, yet I offer no reprieve. Should I detect even a second's reluctance or a waning in his pace, I will ruthlessly encourage him with the lash. However immense the serving, not a single morsel may remain. I will deem his task complete, and his peculiar desire fulfilled, only when he restores the space to immaculate order. From my devoted servant, I demand nothing less than absolute efficiency and perfect cleanliness.
