Another visit from my daytime toilet
My toilet slave kneeled before me, her expression a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement. Apparently, she had enjoyed serving as my daytime toilet during their last meeting, and she yearned for the experience once again. Her eyes darted around the room as if trying to take in every detail, almost as if she expected some sort of exam would follow.
I couldn't help but feel a tinge of amusement at her vulnerability. I reclined on my plush chaise longue, sipping a glass of chilled Chardonnay and watching as she knelt there before me, offering herself up for whatever filth I chose to dish out. My toilet slave was new to this world; this was only her second time serving as such. And yet, she approached her task with an almost religious fervor.
"Well," I said, setting my wine glass on the coffee table and smirking down at her. "I guess you want to get started then?"
Her response was immediate and telling: her abject devotion to me shone through in every trembling muscle. "Yes, Mistress," she whispered, her voice barely audible even as she bowed her head lower in submission. "I am ready to serve you whenever you wish."
I rose from my seat then, towering above her as I stepped into the bathroom. "Excellent," I purred, my voice dripping with disdain as I walked over to the toilet. "Now, let's see if you've learned anything from your last visit."
I positioned myself over the bowl, my ass in full view as I leaned forward and spread my cheeks wide. My toilet slave watched in rapt attention, her eyes fixed on the darkness between my legs. Even in this perverse scenario, she couldn't help but feel a pang of arousal at the sight of me – her Mistress – offering herself up in such a manner.
And then, without preamble, I released a torrent of golden showers into the waiting toilet bowl. The stream was intense, punching through the water with a force that sent up billowing clouds of steam. I leaned against the cool tile of the bathroom wall, my breath coming in intermittent gasps as I bathed in my own waste.
"Um..." my toilet slave ventured, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "Do you, uh... want me to do anything, Mistress?"
I let out a husky laugh, not bothering to turn around as I shot her another look over my shoulder. "Oh, haven't you learned anything?" I taunted her, amusement lacing my tone. "Don't you know the answer to that?"
Before she could respond, I felt the familiar tightening in my rectum. This time, however, instead of evacuating my bowels, I held the shit within me, savoring the feeling of fullness and power. I could feel it pressing against the walls of my asshole, demanding release even as I refused to give in to its demands.
"What are you waiting for?" I challenged her, still not turning around. "Don't you want your payday?"
Her hesitation was brief, but it was there nonetheless. This was new territory for her – she had never before desired human feces the way she did now. But the moment passed, and she stepped forward, her mouth opening like a baby bird preparing to take its first taste of worm.
I released the dam, and the floodgates opened, spilling a hot, steaming torrent of ass-juice down her throat. She gagged and coughed at the taste, her eyes watering as she tried to suck every last ounce of shit from my bowels. And when she finally finished, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at how far she'd come in just two sessions.
Satisfied with her efforts, I turned and offered her a small smile. "Good girl," I purred, reaching down to pat her head condescendingly. "Now go get me some more caviar from that pretty little head of yours."
With a final glance over her shoulder, she rose unsteadily to her feet and stumbled towards the bedroom. I watched her leave, then returned to my seat on the chaise longue, taking another sip of wine as I basked in the glow of my newfound power.
fter all, who wouldn't want to serve as a daytime toilet for someone like me? The chance to taste my golden showers and eat my warm, fresh shit straight from the source – it was an offer few could refuse. And those who did? Well, they simply weren't worthy of me.
