Love to Shit Girls - A Master's Delightful Treat for His Slave
It was a rare night for the slave, one that brought with it a mix of excitement and trepidation. Her master had spent the day preparing an indulgent meal for her, one that promised to be both nourishing and humbling. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the room, the slave could sense something was amiss. Her stomach was churning uncomfortably, and she felt an unyielding pressure building up deep within her bowels.
The master entered the room, his face alight with anticipation. He was dressed impeccably in his finest robes, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he took in his slave's visibly distressed state. "Ah, my dear slave," he purred, "I see you're ready for your meal."
He approached her slowly, his eyes locked onto hers, making her squirm uncomfortably under his gaze. "You have been such a good little slave today," he continued, his voice deep and resonant, "Now it's time to see how grateful you truly are."
The master unveiled a sumptuous spread before her: a steaming plate of roasted meats, savory stews, and succulent vegetables, all glistening under the flickering candlelight. He took his seat across from her, one leg casually crossed over the other, his expression eager yet patient.
The slave knew what was coming next. With a heavy heart and a sense of dread, she raised her gaze towards her master's behind. It was round, plump, and invitingly exposed. She swallowed hard as she noticed the gentle rise and fall of his buttocks, indicating that he was relaxed and prepared for what was to come.
Slowly, she lowered her head towards his rear end, taking in the rich, earthy scent of his body. Her mouth watered as she contemplated the forbidden treat that awaited her. With trembling hands, she began to unfasten the first button of her master's trousers, her breath catching in anticipation.
The master watched her every move, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew that this was the moment his slave had been dreading and yearning for all at once. It was a powerful reminder of his dominance over her, and he reveled in it.
As the last button came undone, the slave leaned forward, her face mere inches from her master's backside. With trembling fingers, she began to part the cheeks of his rear end, revealing the glistening orifice that awaited her. Her breath hitched in her throat as she caught sight of it, her mind reeling with the thought of what was to come.
The master sat back in his chair, letting out a contented sigh as he felt the warmth of his slave's breath on his skin. "Go on, my dear," he said, his voice a low rumble, "Show your gratitude."
And with that, the slave pressed her lips against her master's anus, feeling the heat of his body against her own. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the overwhelming sensation that always followed when she first made contact. A moment later, her master's powerful sphincter yielded, allowing her access to the warm, pulsating mass within.
As she began to explore her master's bowels with her tongue, she felt a strange mix of excitement and disgust coursing through her body. The taste of her master's feces was like nothing else she had ever experienced, both repulsive and strangely addictive at the same time.
Hours passed as she performed her duty, taking her master's waste into herself time and time again. With each passing moment, she felt herself being drawn deeper into a world of taboo pleasures and unspeakable desires. And yet, even as she relished in the power she held over her master's body, she couldn't help but feel a sense of shame and humiliation deep within her soul.
As the night wore on, the master's meal began to take its toll on his slave. Her stomach was a constant knot of discomfort, and she could feel her body protesting against the constant intrusion of her master's waste. Yet still, she persevered, driven by an inexplicable need to please and serve her master, no matter the cost to herself.
Finally, as the first rays of dawn began to filter through the window, the master released his grip on his slave's mouth, signaling that the ordeal was finally over. She rose unsteadily to her feet, her body trembling with exhaustion and the aftereffects of her master's meal.
With a final glance at her master, she stumbled towards the bathroom, desperate to purge herself of the foul substance that still clung to her tongue and insides. As she stood over the toilet, her body heaving with nausea, she could hear her master's soft laughter echoing in her ears. It was a laughter that was both mocking and indulgent, a reminder of the power he held over her and the depths to which she would sink to please him.
