As the evening sun began to set, I stepped into my sumptuous bedroom, my heart racing with anticipation. In the center of the room was my beloved slave, kneeling on the floor, head bowed in submission. His eyes flickered up to meet mine as I approached, filled with fear and desire all mixed together. I had planned this particular feeding session with great care - it was a treat for both of us.
"Get on the bed," I commanded, my voice soft but authoritative. He scrambled to obey, eager to please me. Once he was lying on his back, I straddled him, positioning myself so that my full weight rested on his chest. His cock, already hard and throbbing under his loose robes, pressed against my upper thigh.
"Today is a special day," I purred, running my fingers through his dirty, matted hair. "You're going to eat my shit and fuck me at the same time." A gasp escaped his lips as he tried to comprehend what I was saying. But there was no denying the hunger in his eyes or the growing bulge in his pants.
Slowly, I lowered myself onto my haunches, my ass positioned directly over his face. My slave waited with bated breath as I released a torrent of ropes onto his face. One by one, he eagerly lapped up the salty, tangy fluids, moaning in pleasure as they hit the back of his throat.
"That's a good slave," I cooed, watching as he worked his tongue around each strand of my shit. His nose was buried deep in the mess already, and his cheeks hollowed out as he inhaled the intoxicating scent. Before long, he was so lost in the act that he didn't even notice the rough, callused tip of my dildo prodding against his asshole.
Without warning, I thrust the toy deep inside him, filling him up with each powerful stroke. The look on his face was priceless – a mixture of pain and pleasure, submission and dominance. As his body adjusted to the intrusion, I started moving in time with his tongue, each thrust of the dildo synchronized with his movements.
"Fuck!" he cried out, his voice muffled by the thick layer of shit in his mouth. His hips bucked upwards, driving himself deeper onto my toy. I reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back so that our eyes met once more.
"Say it," I whispered harshly. "I want to hear you beg." And with that, he was lost in a haze of lust and obedience, chanting "Please, Mistress, please" between swallows of my shit and moans of ecstasy.
The room echoed with the sounds of our passion - the slapping of flesh against flesh, the wet squelches of my shit sliding down his throat, and the muffled grunts of our climaxes. As our orgasms subsided, leaving us gasping for breath, I pulled out of him and stood up, surveying the scene before me. My slave was a mess - his cheeks coated in shit, his eyes half-closed with passion, and his cock leaking pre-cum onto the stained sheets.
And yet, despite his filth and degradation, there was something undeniably beautiful about him in that moment. He was truly mine - body and soul. With a satisfied smile, I leaned down and kissed him gently on the forehead, tasting myself on his lips.
"Well done, my slave," I whispered softly. "Now, let me clean you up."
