“Is that clean and sanitized?” She asked.
“Yes mistress.”
“Prove it.” She snapped.
I leaned over, and licked the rim of the porcelain.
“See?” I said.
She then raised her leg, and pushed my head into the bowl with the toe of her boot.
“NOW prove it.”
I couldn’t answer, my face underwater, but I gave her a thumbs up.
“Good little bitch toy!” She said, laughing in that flirty way I love so much.
“Hey, I have an errand for you.” She said, suddenly.
“What’s that? Yeah, whatever you need!”
“Arielle has reserved one of the private cabins for tonight, she has Tony and Gusher all lined up. But they want to ‘toilet’ Danny Binz for tonight. So I need you to take one of the slave toilets from the basement down to Cabin number two. And…” she added, “Make sure it’s clean. Disinfected and clean. YOU know the drill.”
“Yes Mistress!” I said eagerly.
I couldn’t help but feel bad for Danny Binz, though. The guy probably didn’t even know what was in store for him. First of all, out of all of the women who dabbled in the Dark Arts of Female Domination, Arielle was notoriously cruel and heartless toward the slaves. While others, especially Aurora, could be flirty, friendly and fun (When they were not cruelly ordering us around or administering punishments) Arielle never spoke to the slaves except to bark orders at them, and was always cold, imperious and cruel. She was also known as the most sadistic, and her corporal punishments knew no mercy. You didn’t even want to look in her direction if you were a slave on the island. She would notice, and have you whipped for it. She didn’t seem to have a “Favorite” slave, but I was always afraid that Aurora would “loan” me out to her, which thankfully she never did. Of course, to the other (non-slave) men on the island, Arielle was as bubbly, sweet and sexy as could be, especially around the man (or men) she had chosen as companions for that evening. But I knew poor Danny would be in for it tonight. Although, being “toileted” might not be as bad as what could happen. At least he would be locked out of sight in the bathroom and away from her wrath.
Only, to be “Toileted” was exactly what it implied, and either way, frankly it was kind of gross. Especially if you didn’t have the stomach for it. You really had to be conditioned for it. I only hoped for his own sake, Danny was.
I walked through the opulent mansion, crossing the main ball room, through the office and opened the door leading to the “Dungeon” down in the basement. Here was where slaves would be punished or abused, should Arielle (or even Aurora herself) get the whim. Kayla was down here, giving the third degree to one of the slaves who had apparently screwed something up, but I didn’t see who he was; in these situations I just averted my eyes. In a closet, I found one of the toilet contraptions under a plastic bag. I pulled it out to inspect it. It LOOKED serviceable, and pretty clean. The contraption consisted of a square box, maybe 20 inches high by 30 inches square, with a toilet seat on the top and a hole cut into the front of the box. For the hapless victim’s head. Inside was a plastic bucket, with a similar hole cut out of it, and on the side were two metal rings, for handcuffs. There were two of these contraptions, who knows where the other one currently was- or who was imprisoned in it. It was simply not polite to talk about such delicate matters, Aurora had insisted. “People’s private bathroom matters are not your business.” She had told me once. Though, if it was YOUR head inside one of these things, it certainly WAS your business- and that of whoever was on the seat above you.