In the grand Victorian era, Miss Dula was not just another heiress with a fondness for exotic desires. She was an enigmatic woman of means who sought out submissives who would do anything she commanded. Her latest acquisition was a curious young man whose innocence drew her in like a moth to flame. He had no idea what lay in store for him when he agreed to serve at her beck and call.
The young man found himself in a lavish estate, surrounded by opulence and an air of intrigue that he couldn't quite place. His stomach rumbled, and he realized with a start that it had been hours since his last meal. He recalled Miss Dula's instructions to him - to eat only what she gave him.
As he wandered the halls, he heard the sound of footsteps echoing from afar. It grew louder and more distinct until it stopped outside a closed door. He noticed a set of stairs that led up to a balcony overlooking a grand chamber below. His heart raced as he climbed the stairs.
Standing at the top of the balcony, Miss Dula looked out with a smirk on her face. She knew he would be there soon enough, his eyes gazing up at her with a mix of fear and anticipation. She enjoyed watching him squirm under her control.
The young man stepped out onto the balcony, his eyes locked onto hers. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized what she had in store for him. He felt his stomach churn with nervousness and anticipation.
Miss Dula slowly lowered herself onto the balcony railing, presenting her perfect ass to him. Her black silk robe flowed behind her, emphasizing her curves. He could not take his eyes off of her.
"Kneel," she commanded.
He did as he was told, unable to tear his eyes away from her ass. He could see a tiny glimmer of hope as she held onto the railing, ready to pull herself back up at any moment.
"Today, we will replicate a scene from one of my favorite plays," She said, her voice dripping with sinister delight. "You know the one I'm talking about."
He did not reply, afraid that if he spoke, his voice might give him away. He didn't want to displease her in any way.
Slowly, Miss Dula pushed out her first load of shit onto the balcony below. It landed with a soft plop, just out of reach of where the young man knelt. He watched as she smeared it around a bit, teasing him.
"Now, my dear slave," She said, her voice as sweet as honey. "You will have to catch all of it with your mouth. Understand?"
He nodded, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks. This was more than he had bargained for when he accepted her proposal.
With each push, Miss Dula fed him more of her shit. They were like two dancers moving in perfect harmony as she guided him through their twisted ballet. The young man tried not to gag as he tasted her feces, but he also found himself growing aroused by the forbidden act.
After what felt like hours, Miss Dula pulled herself back up onto the balcony and stood over him. She watched as he grovelled in the pile of shit he had created around him.
"Now," she said, her voice cold once again. "Use it as you've been told. Masturbate with it until you cum."
Smacking him hard across the face, she left him to his dirty work. As he jerked off, using his own feces as lubricant, parts of him wished he could just leave and never come back. But deep down, he knew that he was hers completely.
As the young man finished cumming, he looked up to see Miss Dula standing at the top of the stairs, smirking down at him. She knew that he would never break free from her grasp. She was his mistress, and he would do anything she commanded him to do.
With a wave of her hand, she dismissed him, telling him to go back to his chambers and clean himself up. There would be another meal waiting for him there, and he knew what he would have to do to be granted it.
As he climbed the stairs, he felt exhausted both physically and emotionally. He wondered how long this game would last, but knew deep down that it would continue for as long as she desired. For now, he had no choice but to continue serving his mistress, no matter what depraved desires she had in store for him.
