I am not a human being. The woman who was once known as Celeste, a woman who possessed dignity, a voice, and a life is dead. She was completely erased, broken down, and overwritten by the identity of Slave Celeste. I have willingly and pathetically surrendered every single ounce of my human rights, my pride, and my free will to become the absolute, unrestricted sub-livestock property of Master M.

My current existence is defined solely by the filth I consume and the excruciating pain I am ordered to endure. I am a living, breathing human toilet. I do not have desires, dreams, or boundaries; I only have a desperate, sickening need to be used, stretched, and mercilessly humiliated. I am an aging piece of meat, kept alive and functioning only to serve as a warm receptacle for piss, scat, vomit, and the sadistic, relentless urges of my superiors.

Look at me. Look at what I have been reduced to. I crawl on my bruised knees, dragging heavy steel chains, begging to be treated worse than a feral dog. I sleep on the freezing floor of a locked steel crate, eating raw, rotting meat from a bowl while choking on my heavy rubber gags. I am constantly monitored, utterly isolated from the real world, and ruthlessly disciplined by my own flesh and blood—my daughter, Co-Mistress Babsi, who wears me down with her razor-sharp high heels and uses my naked, shivering back as her personal footstool.