Missy stood over her groveling toiletslave and let out a hearty belly laugh as she watched the disgusting mixture of her fresh shit and thick phlegm drip from his chin, forming a steady stream that trickled down his neck and disappeared into the collar of his shirt. She loved seeing him squirm under her control, knowing full well that he was practically unable to contain the vomit that threatened to rise in his throat.
With a smirk on her perfectly manicured lips, Lady Missy placed the business end of the cattle prod against her slave's trembling chin. "Open wide, toiletslave," she commanded in a soft yet authoritative voice, "and show me how much you appreciate my offering."
Slowly, almost reluctantly, the slave parted his lips to reveal the gaping abyss of his cavernous mouth. He tried his best to hide the terror in his eyes, but Lady Missy saw it all too clearly. She stepped closer, lowering her ample frame until their faces were just inches apart.
With a devious gleam in her eyes, Missy leaned in closer and pressed the cold metal of the prod against his quivering tongue. Electricity arc'd between them as she activated it, filling his mouth with the metallic taste of fear. The slave's body jerked involuntarily, his muscles spasming from the shock.
"That's right," Missy purred, her hot breath dancing along his ear, "enjoy that taste of authority." She reached down and grabbed a handful of his suit jacket, yanking him closer still so that their mouths were almost touching. Then, with slow deliberation, she leaned forward and rimmed his lips with her tongue, teasing him mercilessly before withdrawing and stepping back.
"Now," Missy said, "eat." She watched with sadistic delight as the slave's eyes widened in terror before he opened his mouth and began to gag on the foul-tasting mixture that awaited him. She laughed again as he struggled to swallow, feeling the power course through her veins.
But Missy wasn't finished yet. As the slave was still trying to force the last remnants of her disgusting offering down his throat, she produced a small vial from her pocket and approached him once more. Crouching down next to him, she placed a hand on his cheek, gently stroking it while he looked up at her in confusion.
"Don't be alarmed, toiletslave," she whispered softly, her warm breath trailing across his face. "This is just a little something extra I like to add to my toilet wine. It'll help improve the taste, don't you worry."
With a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth, Missy carefully unscrewed the top of the vial and tipped the contents into her mouth. Then, reaching out, she grabbed the back of the slave's head and forced him to open his mouth wide once more. Slowly, deliberately, she tilted his head back, allowing the thick, syrupy fluid to dribble from her lips down into his gaping maw.
The slave tried to resist, gagging and choking as he fought against his instinct to vomit. But Missy was relentless, her grip on his head firm as she expertly coated his tongue and cheeks with the bitter liquid. Finally, when she was satisfied that he'd had enough, she released him and stepped back, watching as he struggled to catch his breath.
"See you soon, toiletslave," Missy purred, sauntering away to leave him alone in the darkened room. She couldn't wait to see what other delicious surprises she could cook up for him next.
