As I tried to avert my gaze, my toilet slave Kat had already lowered her trousers, positioning herself near the bushes. When I asked what she was up to, she responded defiantly, “I’m relieving myself, so what? Oh, really? Very well then, I’ll assist you with that.” I crouched over her, urinating directly onto her. Had it not been for my jacket, she would have been drenched in urine. But that was not the end of it. I exerted myself and released a small amount of feces. “Stay still,” I instructed, “here you go.” I proceeded to smear her fresh, white jacket, her jeans, and of course, her face with feces. Now, she was adorned with brown streaks of waste. As we headed home, she was now marked with filth. Walk tall, let everyone witness your feces-covered face.