Natalia Kapretti's arrival at the dungeon signaled the beginning of an intense journey for the new slave. Kneeling before her, he felt her soft leather boots gently brush against his cheek, urging him to show his submission and devotion. As he kissed her legs, his hands caressed her body, wondering how it would feel to be claimed by her completely.
Her command struck him like a bolt of lightning: "You are ready to serve your Mistress." Despite the obvious relish in her tone, there was also a note of disdain that made him cringe inwardly. But still, he could not deny the thrill that coursed through him at the thought of belonging entirely to her.
"Stand in front of me on your knees, kissing my legs, my boots," she continued, her voice now tinged with anticipation. "Lick them, rising higher and higher to the crotch, to my ass. Ready to substitute your ass for fucking, under my strap-on?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with promise and menace. Though he wished to deny it, he knew that his desire for her was undeniable. Carefully, he raised his hands to caress the soft leather of her boots before trailing his fingers up the length of her shapely legs. As he reached her crotch, he sensed her bated breath and paused, savoring the moment.
"I think you'll never be ready for a strap-on," she said, her voice low and taunting. "Knowing what I like sizes and they will become more and more. And your ass is getting wider and wider."
His heart sank at her words, but he could not deny the truth of them. He was addicted to her, to the power she wielded over him. His fingers traced the contours of her perfect ass, imagining the feel of the strap-on as it stretched him, owned him.
"You must serve me as a toilet, toilet paper, urinal, when I want and where I want," she commanded, her voice now imbued with an unmistakable edge of authority. "I know that you want all this, don't be ashamed of your desires. After all, desires need to be embodied otherwise they will turn into paranoia."
Paralyzed by her words and the raw power emanating from her, he could only nod in agreement. He was hers to command, and he knew that he would do anything she asked of him.
"Your duty, serve me, eat my shit," she purred, her voice now laced with a dark anticipation.
She stood up and slowly removed her panties, revealing her perfect ass to him. Even as he felt his heart racing in his chest, he forced himself to focus on the task at hand: serving his Mistress. Carefully, he lowered his head and touched his tongue to the small puddle of wetness at the base of her ass, savoring the salty taste mixed with the faint scent of her perfume.
"Well, now I'm going to fuck you in the ass," she said, her voice now a low, throbbing growl. "First, take this strap-on, your ass will get used to it, and then I will plant in you my favorite big strap-on. The bigger the size, the more I like fucking you."
He nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from her perfect ass. The strap-on trembled in his hands, and he knew that he was trembling as well. He positioned it behind him and felt her strong hands guide it into place, spreading his cheeks wide and filling him up with cold, hard plastic.
"That's my good boy," she purred, her breath hot against his ear. "Now I'm going to take a shit on the floor, and you'll get on with your basic duties."
As she positioned herself over the toilet seat, he could feel the thrumming of excitement deep within him. This was it: the moment he had been waiting for, dreading, longing for. With a strangled moan of anticipation, he dropped to his knees and pressed his face against the cool, smooth surface of the tiles, waiting for his first taste of her shit.
The moment her ass made contact with the toilet seat, he launched himself forward, pressing his tongue against the small hole that had just appeared. She groaned deeply, and he felt the warm, viscous liquid flood his mouth. At first it tasted like raspberries, but then the bitter tang of feces hit him like a punch to the gut. He tried to swallow the disgusting mixture, to show her how much he loved her even in this moment of depravity.
As she continued to take large, slow shits, he positioned himself beneath her, catching every last drop of her precious shit. He lifted her booty high into the air, marveling at the sheer size of her asshole, and forced himself to swallow every last morsel of her shit, no matter how disgusting or degrading it was.
When she finally pulled away, she gave him a satisfied smile. "Attaboy," she murmured, patting him on the head like a beloved pet. "Now we await the final step of training."
Slowly, she knelt down in front of him, her eyes glinting with malice. "Open your mouth wide," she commanded, her voice low and menacing. "I want to shit."
He opened his mouth wide, feeling the coolness of her breath against his tongue. He knew what she wanted: to see his submission, to know that he would do anything for her. As her ass lowered itself towards his face, he prepared himself for the onslaught of her shit. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he braced himself to take in her shit, to ingest it and make it his own.
And so he did. He took her shit, swallowed it, and asked for more. He was her toilet, her human garbage disposal, and he loved every minute of it. In this twisted, perverse world she had created for him, he finally felt truly alive.
