ITALIAN SPEAKINGHere he is, my toilet slave. He slept in a cage, all squeezed into the jumpsuit I made him wear. The leash guides him to his daily penance. Its toilet slave time. That is, its his time. But first, a loud slap is in order: it teaches him whos boss. So, a lick of the Mistresss beloved little hole and Im ready. His tongue has stimulated the evacuation of my daily shit. It will be a nice meal for him. Piece by piece, the divine food he will have to swallow after chewing it well begins to fall. A nice pile of shit forms in his mangy dog dish. The smell that spreads around him is a perfume. The shit is soft, fatty, with harder bits. Enchanting. He opens his human toilet mouth and fills it, grabbing the hot shit with his lips and teeth. Then he chews it. Then he swallows it. I prepare it for him with the sole of my boot: I crush it, getting the sole nice and dirty, and then he, with his filthy tongue hanging out, has to lick and eat it, taking it directly from the boot until my sole is perfectly clean. He does it obediently, perhaps moaning with disgust, but meekly. He is resigned. He knows it is his destiny. You dont become my slave without paying a price. And its a very high price, one that lasts forever, for your whole life.
