You’ve always been a toilet slut, and you know it. I’m only telling you what you already feel about yourself deep inside. You feel that desperate need to eat my kaviar, to prove your devotion through me through the must humiliating of acts. And you won’t waste a single drop of it. You need to be reminded of your place in my life as a mere OBJECT. I don’t care about you as a human, I don’t care you even as a slave. You’re a subhuman toilet, and your entire meaning for existence is receiving and worshiping everything I leave behind. Therefore, your worth to me as a toilet is based entirely on what you consume. I produce, you consume. I give, you take. I expel, you swallow.
