As the day turned into night, Miss Dula finished her extravagant meal at the restaurant. She couldn't help but feel satisfied as she left the establishment, burping lightly. The blonde domme lit up a cigarette and made her way home, planning on treating her slave to some stinky farts when she arrived.
Upon entering her luxurious abode, Miss Dula was greeted by the sight of her slave, eagerly awaiting her return. His mouth was agape, a sign of his eagerness to please his mistress. She smirked, reveling in the power she held over him. Carefully, she placed her cigarette aside and approached her slave.
"Well, well, look what's here," she purred. "I see you've been waiting patiently for me."
The slave couldn't find his voice, his heart pounding in anticipation. Miss Dula chuckled softly and leaned down, her breath fanning across his face. She took a deep breath, prepared to give him the treat she had in mind.
"You want me to smell it, Miss?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.
"Oh, do I ever!" She replied, grinning wickedly. With that, she released a long, loud fart, which hit him right in the face. The smell was overwhelming, but the slave remained stoic, not wanting to disappoint his mistress.
"Mmmm, that's what I like to hear," Miss Dula said, satisfied. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small dish, filled to the brim with caviar. This was one of her finest dishes, and she knew he would have to work hard to clean it all up. She divided the caviar into two equal portions, setting one aside.
"First, I want you to eat this half cleanly," she commanded. The slave nodded, moving his mouth into position. "Don't waste any," she warned him, and with that, she pushed the first portion of caviar into his mouth. He began to chew, taking his time to savor the delicacy.
As he swallowed the first half, Miss Dula refilled her cigarette and leaned against the wall, watching her slave work. His tongue darted out, trying to catch every last bit of caviar from his lips. Once he was done, she handed him the other half. "Now, let's see if you can clean this one just as efficiently," she purred.
The slave didn't hesitate, eager to please his mistress once more. But as he started to eat, Miss Dula could see the struggle on his face. The caviar was slipping through his fingers, dropping onto the floor. She hmmed loudly, her brow furrowing in disappointment.
"I told you not to waste any," she scolded. Without another word, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small cloth. Unfolding it, she revealed a clear liquid inside. "This is the finest champagne," she explained. "I want you to clean your mouth with it before we continue."
The slave nodded, understanding the severity of his mistake. He opened his mouth, exposing his tongue and the insides of his cheeks. Miss Dula poured the champagne over his tongue, letting it trickle down his throat. Then, she poured some onto her hand and let him use it to clean up any remaining caviar from his mouth.
"See?" she said when he was finally clean. "Now let's try that again." This time, the slave was more careful, taking his time and ensuring he didn't miss a single morsel. When he finished, Miss Dula could tell he was satisfied. Her stomach rumbled in response, making her chuckle.
"Well, well," she said. "It looks like my little toilet is still hungry. Come here, sweetheart." The slave moved closer, his eyes locked on hers. With one swift movement, she pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. His taste, a combination of champagne and herself, sent shivers down her spine.
Slowly, they broke apart. Miss Dula looked into his eyes, biting her bottom lip. "I think," she murmured, "it's time I gave my toilet a taste of his own medicine."
The slave's eyes widened in anticipation. As their lips met once more, he felt a surge of power course through him. This time, it was his turn to be in control. And with that, they began their next erotic endeavour.
