Walking down the hallway, Keira felt her bladder begin to tighten up. She'd told herself she wouldn't drink too much at the party, but somehow she never seemed to stick to that resolution. Giggling to herself, she entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She could hear the sound of water running from one of the stalls, so she assumed someone was already inside, which was fine by her.
Walking over to the row of urinals, she unzipped her pants and let out a sigh of relief as a warm stream of piss flowed out, hitting the porcelain underneath the metal trough. She kept her eyes on the dark corner where the toilet was hidden, waiting for the telltale sound of flushing so she could sit down on the toilet seat properly.
But then she saw him. A figure emerging from the shadows, his face obscured by the low lighting but his presence unmistakable. He was kneeling beside the toilet, holding a bucket of water and a rag. He said nothing, just watched as she finished her business and zipped up her pants again.
Feeling self-conscious now, Keira stepped towards the sink to wash her hands, glancing through the mirror to look at the toilet slave. She noticed with a jolt that he was still there, waiting patiently for her. "Um," she stammered, "I.. I think you missed a spot."
His eyes flicked towards where she was pointing, and then back up to her face. "I apologize, Miss Keira," he said softly. "I'll be sure to clean it up properly."
Despite herself, Keira felt a shiver of excitement coursing through her veins. This was the first time she'd seen one of the toilet boys so up close, and there was something undeniably arousing about the contrast between his servility and his obvious masculinity. She lingered at the sink, washing her hands slowly, ignoring the growing impatience of the person in the stall behind her.
Finally, she turned to face him properly, leaning against the sink with one arm crossed over her chest. "Well," she said, trying to sound casual, "what are you waiting for? Hurry up and clean it, toilet boy."
There was a flash of something in his eyes then – defiance, perhaps? Or maybe just resolve. Whatever it was, it vanished quickly, replaced by his usual submissive demeanor. Bowing his head slightly, he said, "Of course, Miss Keira. Please give me a moment."
With that, he knelt before the toilet and began to clean it vigorously, scrubbing away at the invisible stain until the porcelain was spotless once again. Meanwhile, Keira watched, fascinated by the play of muscles in his arms and back as he worked.
When he was finished, he rose to his feet and bowed his head again. "There you are, Miss Keira. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
Keira paused for a moment, wondering if she should take things further. Finally, she shrugged. "Not right now," she said, her voice a little softer than before. "But I might have something in the future. You know where to find me."
She turned and walked out of the bathroom, leaving the toilet boy kneeling there in the silence. As the door swished shut behind her, she felt a sudden surge of power course through her veins, accompanied by a twinge of guilt that quickly faded. She may have been the one in control, but there was no denying the thrill she got from his submission.
