Mistress Lily was in an impish mood, her eyes sparkling with mischievous intent as she lounged on her plush, ornate throne. Today was the day she'd been looking forward to: feeding her loyal toilet slave the pile of rich, delicious human feces she'd been hoarding. She watched him, his inexorable pull on his impossibly small cock clear indication of his eagerness. "Oh dear, you're just so... pathetic," she purred, her words laced with playful derision.
The slave's face, coated in her anal scent, bore an expression of eager desperation as he stared up at her, his mouth watering at the thought of what she would dispense from above. She held up the black vibrator, her fingers tracing the contours of its sleek, sinister form. "This'll help," she laughed, sliding it between her pussy lips. With an expert touch, she began to work the toy against her sensitive folds, her hips bucking in rhythm as she ground against it.
The sensation was driving her wild; she felt like she might orgasm right there. "Close... so close," she hissed through gritted teeth, her words lost in a moan. But then, finally, she felt it: the twitch in her asshole that signaled it was ready. With a look of triumph, she positioned herself above the slave and sighed gratefully at the sight of his eager, gaping mouth.
And then she let go, releasing a torrent of hot, steaming feces down onto his face and into his waiting mouth. It was like heaven, the taste and smell of it filling her senses as she watched him devour every last morsel with unbridled enthusiasm. His face was a mess of her stool, but he didn't seem to mind; in fact, he was moaning and groaning with each mouthful, his eyes screwed shut in ecstasy.
As he lay there beneath her, stomach full and face covered in her filth, she couldn't help but beam down at him. "That was... magnificent," she whispered, leaning down to place a tender kiss on his forehead. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of affection for him; after all, he was the one who made this all possible. Without him, she'd never get to experience the exquisite sensations of power and submission that came with using him as her personal toilet bowl.
So she patted his head gently and watched as he struggled to stand up, his legs shaking under the weight of the stench. "Thank you, mistress," he murmured, his voice half-drowned out by the loud gurgling of his full stomach. She smiled and waved him off dismissively, already turning her attention back to the ever-growing pile of feces waiting on the ground below. "Anytime, my little pet," she purred before reaching down and grabbing another handful, preparing for another delicious feast.
