Under the mirror, the slave lay on the hardwood floor, his head tilted back. His eyes were closed, and his mouth open, ready for what was coming. As his mistress, whom he called Mistress Vanessa, relieved herself, her warm, golden stream of urine splashed softly onto his face. He could feel the droplets collecting on his forehead and cheeks, and the sweet scent reached his nose.
With a satisfied smile, Mistress Vanessa finished, and wiped her hands on a nearby towel. She looked down at her slave, who was still waiting for her next command. His face was glistening with her piss, and his eyes were filled with fear and anticipation. She knew he loved every second of his degradation.
"You're such a good piss slut," she purred, stepping back to admire her work. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, feeling it cling to his face. "My poor baby is all wet."
She turned back to her closet, searching for the perfect outfit for her evening date. The slave watched as she tried on different dresses, each one more elegant than the last. He could hear the rustling of fabric and the subtle clicks of her heels as she strutted back and forth.
His mind drifted to the taste of her urine, which he had been savoring since it first touched his lips. It was like no other fluid he had ever tasted, salty yet sweet, with a hint of ammonia. Every time he swallowed, he could feel it coursing down his throat, warming him from the inside out.
As Mistress Vanessa finally selected a dress, she turned back to face him. She was wearing a strapless black number that hugged her curves in all the right places. He could see her full breasts pressed against the material, and her legs were bare except for a pair of sheer black stockings.
"Time to clean up my mess," she said, reaching down to stroke his hair. Her hand brushed against his cheek, leaving a trail of wetness behind. She grabbed a handful of his hair, tugging gently as she guided him to his feet.
Together, they walked to the bathroom, where she helped him step into the shower. As the warm water cascaded over them, she began to soap him up, her hands scrubbing his skin with rough strokes. She lathered his hair, taking special care to work the shampoo into a thick, soapy lather.
"You're so dirty," she purred, running her soapy fingers across his chest. "But I love cleaning you up."
She rinsed him off thoroughly, washing away all traces of her piss. Then, she turned him around and shaved his privates until they were smooth as a baby's bottom. Finally, she dried him off with a towel, rubbing him down vigorously until his skin was warm and tingling.
When she was finished, she turned to face him in the mirror. "Now, you're all clean and presentable," she said, smiling at her reflection. "And ready for your new mistress."
The slave stood behind her in the mirror, his eyes fixed on her reflection. His cock, still hard from the excitement, strained against his pants. He couldn't wait to see who his new mistress would be, and what other degrading acts she would have in store for him.
As they left the bathroom, he wondered if tonight would be the night he tasted her piss for the first time.The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt a warm, wet trickle between his legs as he imagined what was to come.
