My butler must be prepared for my needs the moment I awaken, a task he carries out efficiently by promptly providing me with breakfast. The initial sight to greet me is his sizable belly, clad in a waiter’s apron that conceals his small manhood – a mere inch, if even that, and barely exceeding the length of my big toe. I derive pleasure from humiliating him, occasionally exposing his diminutive appendage. As I savor my breakfast, I casually drop a piece of brioche, intentionally crushing it underfoot, with plans for him to consume it later during our unique ritual – when I fill his mouth with my waste. This is how I’ve trained this human toilet.