Faith, a young and eager toiletslave, knelt before his Mistress Roberta. His eyes shone with anticipation as he gazed up at her, his heart pounding with excitement. He knew she wouldn't make it easy on him today—Mistress Roberta had been in an especially dominant mood all morning.
She wore a black corset that hugged her voluptuous figure, accentuating her hourglass curves. A whip dangled from one hand while the other rested on her hip. Her long blonde hair flowed down her back like a river of silk.
"You're a pathetic excuse for a human being," she sneered down at him. "A scat whore, a piss slut, and now it seems I've somehow trained you into enjoying my diarrhea as well."
Faith lowered his head in shame, but he couldn't help the growing bulge in his pants. His Mistress's words were poison to his soul, but they also ignited something deep within him. He longed to please her, even if it meant submitting to her darkest desires.
Without further warning, Mistress Roberta pulled down her panties and turned her back on him. A river of urine flowed out of her, drenching the cold tiles beneath them. "Drink it up, toiletslave," she commanded. "Don't make me force-feed you my piss like last time."
Faith did as he was told, his tongue darting out to taste her warm golden nectar. As he finished, Mistress Roberta's thighs trembled, and he knew what was coming next. She moaned in pleasure as her bowels unloaded into her panties, then pulled them away to reveal a massive pile of steaming diarrhea.
"Now, you pathetic worm," she growled, her eyes glinting with amusement, "eat it all up."
Faith hesitated for only a moment before diving face-first into the creamy, warm mess. He lapped at it like a hungry dog, savoring every bit of his mistress's intimate fluids. He couldn't help but moan with pleasure as he worked his way deeper into the pile.
As he reached for her final load on her ass cheeks, Mistress Roberta struck like a viper. She grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up, forcing his lips to stretch around the thick rod of her kaviar. He couldn't believe how delicious it tasted—richer, fuller, more intoxicating than anything he had ever experienced before.
"And when you're finished with that," she purred, her breath hot against his face, "you can have the honor of smearing your mistress's diarrhea all over your body and masturbating in it like the filthy little toiletslave you are."
Faith didn't need to be told twice. He swirled the last dollop of kaviar around in his mouth, then quickly scooped up a handful of Mistress Roberta's diarrhea and rubbed it into his skin. The sticky, warm muck covered every inch of his body except for his cock, which now stood proud and eager before him.
With a slow, deliberate pace, he began to stroke himself, dragging his shit-slick cock against his ribs and up over his chest. He looked up at Mistress Roberta, hoping for her approval, and saw that she was watching him intently.
"That's it, toiletslave," she whispered. "Show me how much you love your mistress's diarrhea."
And so he did. He continued to pump himself with his own filth, moaning louder with each stroke. The musky scent of his mistress's shit filled the air, and Faith could barely contain his excitement anymore. With a final cry of release, he erupted, covering his body—and Mistress Roberta's diarrhea—with thick, steaming cum.
He stayed like that, panting heavily, for several long moments before Mistress Roberta spoke again. "Very good, toiletslave," she said, reaching down to pat him on the head. "But remember—you're only here because I allow it. And one day, if you disappoint me too much, I might just flush you right down the toilet where you belong."
