Each morning, as a ritual, my house slave prepares my breakfast and coffee. However, today marks a distinctive change. I invite him to join me at the table, a rare privilege usually denied (normally, I would send him back to his servant’s quarter at this point).
Today, I desire my slave to partake in breakfast with me….
I take my time, savoring the initial bites of my breakfast, while my servant anxiously ponders the question: What dish will she serve me?
As I beckon him to fetch a plate and direct him to adopt a kneeling position under my posterior, a thought dawns on my servant. As I shed my pants, ascending the chair with my bare bottom, the captivating tunes of Vivaldi fill the air. My slave will be served my divine excrement for breakfast. I gracefully defecate on his plate. Subsequently, I command him to clean my filthy anus.
I relish my muesli, adorned with fresh fruit and almond milk, while I order my slave to consume my excrement with his fingers. Only after he finishes it, do I reveal my satisfaction.