Mistress Roberta and I had planned this day for weeks. As always, she began by walking into her studio, her long, perfect legs clad in a pair of silk stockings that left almost nothing to the imagination. The light from the overhead lamps reflected off every inch of her flawless body, making it shimmer like satin. She sauntered over to me, her high heels clacking against the hardwood floor, and planted a lingering kiss on my forehead.
"Hello, toiletslave," she purred. "Are you ready for our little adventure today?"
I nodded eagerly, turning my attention to the array of toys and objects scattered across the room. There were cock rings, dipped in shiny metallic paint, that I knew would be used on my genitals; a pair of stilettos, tipped with what looked like jelly; and a long, rubber tube that ended in a plastic cup.
"Goddess," I whispered, "what do you have planned for me today?"
She let out a soft laugh, running her fingers through her luxurious hair. "Well," she said, "I thought we'd start with some fun and games. You know how much I enjoy watching you writhe in pain."
With that, she motioned for me to lie down on the cold tile floor. She knelt beside me, a look of amused cruelty in her eyes as she began to attach the first of the cock rings to my engorged member. I hissed in pain as she tightened it, and when she added a second ring around my scrotum, I cried out in agony.
"Please, Goddess," I pleaded. "Please stop."
But she merely laughed again, kicking me harder than she ever had before, sending jolts of pain shooting through my body. I collapsed onto the floor, unable to move, my genitals throbbing with the intensity of a thousand suns.
Finally, after what felt like hours, she removed the rings and stood over me, gazing down with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation.
"Now, let's see how well you can please your mistress," she purred.
She tore off a piece of her panties and bent over, her perfect ass jutting out in all its glory. The stench of her human waste filled the air, but I couldn't help but be aroused by her dominance. I crawled towards her, unable to tear my eyes away from that incredible sight, the promise of what was to come.
"Open your mouth," she commanded, and I did as I was told, my mind lost in a haze of desire and submission.
Her diarrhea poured into my mouth, hot and thick and putrid. I gagged, trying to get away from the overwhelming stench, but she grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my face towards her.
"Swallow," she hissed, and there was something in her voice that made me obey without question.
I swallowed, again and again, each time gagging and choking on the thick, foul mixture. But with each swallow, my arousal grew, until I was rock-hard once again despite the pain.
Finally, she let me go. I lay there, panting heavily, my mind reeling from the intensity of the experience. But as I looked up at her, I saw the glint of satisfaction in her eyes.
"That's my good little toiletslave," she purred, moving towards a nearby shelf where the tube from before was now attached to a plastic cup. "Now, let's see how much of this delicious treat you can enjoy."
She positioned the tube so that it led to my mouth, and then smiled as she watched me stare down in horror at the viscous liquid dripping from the end. But when I opened my mouth and felt the warm rush of her diarrhea against my tongue, I couldn't help but moan in pleasure.
We continued like this for what felt like hours, her diarrhea flowing in and out of my mouth and onto my cock, until finally I felt the first stirrings of an inevitable climax.
As I came, my body shaking with the force of it, she leaned down and whispered in my ear.
"You're such a good little toiletslave," she said, her breath hot against my cheek. "But remember, it's always me who decides when we're done playing."
And with that, she sauntered away, leaving me lying there on the cold tile floor, spent and sated and more in love than ever before.
