Dumping the shit eaters
I turned to my sides to see the competition. Seven other men who had given up everything they’d ever earned to the gorgeous Mistress, just so that they could eat her shit and die for her. Among us, six would be killed over the course of a few elimination rounds so Priya and Aditi would have the two most dedicated shit-eaters left for their personal use. All of them still had legs, while mine had been chopped off. I turned to the Mistresses themselves, and Aditi was still disappointed. “I hate this guy,” she said, pointing to me. “I had his legs cut off and I already took a shit in his mouth. He’s still not dead.”
“It’s alright, we’ll be rid of him soon enough,” Priya said.
“But I have maintained a perfect record.” Aditi said. “Since I was nineteen, I’ve always had some human or the other whose mouth I could shit into. And I always kill the shit-eaters after I use them. That’s a rule. Each time I take a shit, someone has to die. But this guy…grrrr.” I felt ashamed for still not being dead. “I even sentenced him to death from these boots.”
“It’s okay.” Priya said. “Maybe he was born to serve you as a shit-eater twice. Anyway, we’re making up for it. Six of these boys will die in the next hour without ever eating our shit.”
“Oh, yeah.” Aditi felt relieved. “That does make up for it.” She evaluated all the slaves kneeling before her and spotted a strong, burly one. “Ooh, I like that one. Would be a nice challenge to kill him with my boots.”
“Go ahead, then.” Priya said. “Take that one,” she pointed to me, “and that one,” showing the strong man. “Kick both their faces with your boots until one of them dies. That will be our first elimination round.”
Aditi was bubbling with glee, from the thought of killing a strong, muscular man with her deadly boot kicks. “Come over here, you.” She showed me to her left boot, indicating that I kneel next to it, while the muscular guy knelt before her right boot. “Both of you, worship my boots!” Aditi announced. “One of you is going to die from the supreme power of my kicks. Lick my boots and thank them for giving you the pathetic death you deserve.” She spread out her hands and waited for us to sing our last prayers to her gorgeous pair of boots. “Now, here’s how it’s going to work. I will kick you with my left leg once and I’ll kick you with my right leg. Soon, one of you will die from the pain, and that person will be declared the useless loser and thrown in the gutter.” Even as she told us the rules, she kept looking to the stronger slave rather than me, which worked out just fine. It was almost obvious that the other candidate would die from her kicks this round, but I was still scared to death in the presence of her boots. Custom made for her feet, they had metallic bottoms that were harder than the hardest rocks. In every way, they were designed to be the ultimate fashion statement and a sure death sentence for any slaves who happened to get in their way. “The winner will move on to the next round, and will have a higher chance of eating the shit from my ass and smelling some of my farts in life.”
Aditi prepared herself to wield the hardest possible kicks by stretching and squeezing her fearsome leg muscles. “Here we go,” she said, retracting her right leg and kicking the muscular candidate with the awesome power of her leg. The kick was so hard, I could literally hear his skull cracking from impact. The large candidate fell to the floor with no chance of ever waking up again. “One,” Aditi giggled as she counted.
Priya clapped for her friend’s powerful kick and cheered her on. “Now you can practice your left leg kick on this other loser,” she gestured towards me. Even before I could brace myself for an Aditi kick, her left leg came flying into my nose and broke it into pieces. But I was certainly alive and breathing.
“One each,” Aditi said. She was expecting the other candidate to have gotten up by then, but the big man was still down flat, stirring occasionally. “Check if he’s dead,” Aditi ordered me. I checked his pulse and reported that he was still alive. Priya reckoned that one more kick would finish him off. Aditi rose from her seat and gave him the “finisher stomp” with her right boot, crushing the helpless slave’s nose underneath her grinding foot.
“Die, you useless loser.” Aditi enjoyed finishing the candidate under her foot. Soon, the candidate was dead and was disposed of. “Congratulations, shit boy,” she said to me. “You made it to the finals, and you might get to eat my shit again.”
“Thank you, Goddess Aditi.” I cried. Even though I was half unconscious when she took a shit in my mouth yesterday, I could still taste the rancid poop in my mouth, and feel the texture on my tongue.
“Don’t feel so happy, shit boy.” Aditi said. “It could just be that you are not worthy of dying for me.”
“Anyway, we have our first finalist.” Priya said. “Let’s select three more. I’m in the mood for killing a few of these boys under my feet. Hey you and you,” she called out two random boys from the remaining six candidates. “Look at my beautiful toes. You boys should be proud that one of you will suffocate and die between them. In fact, you should all just die for one of my toes each.” There was silence as we all considered which of Priya’s toes we would give up our lives for. “Haha, I was just kidding you losers! I just want to choose a good shit eater for myself. Anyway, you two boys. Stick your nose between these two toes. I will crunch your noses between my toes and suffocate you. The one who dies first will be the useless loser that gets thrown into the gutter.” The candidates obeyed, putting their nose between Priya’s toes while having their mouths crushed under her feet. The lock was perfectly air-tight, and the candidates but succumbed to the Goddess’s wishes. They turned red, blue and then black. Eventually, one of them dropped to the floor, dead as a brick.
Priya and Aditi shared a cheerful high-five. “Two down, four more to go!”
“And I know just the thing for picking out the two best shit-eaters out of these six.” Priya said, walking towards the other couch and raising its cushions. “Presenting…the fart box!”