Desperate Toilet Slave's Scatological Devotion Rewarded by his Elegant Mistress
As the day winds down, the well-groomed master thrusts his engorged member into the eager mouth of his faithful toilet slave. Moans of pleasure could not escape from the slave's throat as warm, thick nectar of his mistress's bowels dribbles down his chin. The scent of fresh excrement fills the air, an aphrodisiac that only heightens the slave's need for more.
With each thrust, the mistress watched intently as her toilet slave's eyes roll back in ecstasy, lips parted in expectation of the next potent dose of her divine essence. She smirked, knowing she had complete control over this pathetic creature who worshipped at her feet.
Finally sated, the mistress pulled out, leaving a string of final drooling kisses on the slave's eager face. She stepped back, admiring her handiwork - a human toilet covered in her own excremental glory. A small smile played at the corners of her lips as she walked away, contemplating how best to reward such devotion.
The wait seemed interminable for the eager toilet slave. His entire existence revolved around pleasing his mistress, and now - finally - he might be rewarded for his unwavering dedication. As he waited with bated breath, he could feel a warmth growing between his legs once more. Perhaps she would take him back into that sacred place where he could taste every last drop of her divine nectar?
Hours later, the mistress returned. She approached her toilet slave casually, uncaring that his cock throbbed painfully at her nearness. With a cruel smile, she casually tossed a set of expensive lingerie onto the filthy floor where he kneeled. "Put these on," she commanded, her voice dripping with contempt.
Confused but obedient, the toilet slave scrambled to comply. As he pulled the delicate fabric over his body, he couldn't help but wonder: what sort of twisted game was his mistress playing?
The answer came soon enough. With a sneer, the mistress revealed a pair of high heels – the same exact footwear she had worn when she had taken his virginity three years prior. She kicked them towards him with a look of pure disdain. "Clean those," she spat, turning her back on him.
Trembling with fear and anticipation, the toilet slave bent down to clean the filthy heels. As he ran his tongue over every inch of the leather, he could feel his mistress's presence looming over him. And then, without warning, her foot came crashing down onto his head – hard.
Moans of pleasure escaped from the slave's lips as he was once again reduced to nothing more than a living piece of furniture. Basking in the sensation of her foot on his face, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. For in this world of depravity and submission, it was all he knew - and all he ever wanted.
