She insisted submission, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. Her toilet slave knelt ready for his debasement. He was her property a willing victim. His fate was to serve her every whim. The dominatrix watched him with amusement. His degradation was her pleasure. Every ounce of his dignity was hers. He craved her attention even in his disgrace. The toilet was his sanctuary. He drank from it on command. His duty was to keep it clean with his tongue. The goddess surveyed her handiwork. His form was hers to use. He was recycled into her personal toilet. His existence was tied to her will. She possessed him entirely. He was a toilet slave for her amusement. The darkness of his servitude stretched before him. He accepted his fate completely. His submissive life was her creation.