Title: Goddess Tempest - A Serving of Humiliation to the Immigrant
As the wealthy wife entered the room, the poor immigrant working for her couldn't help but feel a knot of anxiety in his stomach. He knew that he had to be on his toes around her, always ready to prove his worth and loyalty. A smirk crept across her face as she looked down on him, knowing full well the power she held over him.
"I think it's time for your afternoon snack, don't you?" She purred, sauntering over to him with a mischievous glint in her eye. He nodded meekly, not daring to ask what she had in store for him this time.
"You know how much I love my privacy, so cleaning me up is part of the deal," she continued, pulling down her pants and stepping out of them. Her perfectly-sculpted body glistened with sweat and she unabashedly wiggled her ass at him, challenging him not to get aroused.
The immigrant couldn't believe what was happening. He had been expecting something more... ordinary, perhaps a scoop of ice cream or a slice of cake. But instead, he was being faced with the woman's bare ass, her perfect round cheeks beckoning him closer. He'd seen her do this many times before - use him as her toilet when she was too lazy to go to one herself. But this time, there was something different in the air.
Tentatively, he reached out a trembling hand and touched her soft, warm skin. She let out a contented sigh, pressing back against his touch. He lowered his head, taking a deep breath as he prepared to taste her once again. His tongue darted out, tracing the lines of her crease and dipping into her tight little hole. With a loud moan, she pushed his head further down, forcing his tongue deeper into her anus.
As he began to lick vigorously, he found that her ass tasted different today - heavier, muskier. Alarm bells started going off in his head as he realized what must be happening. She was about to take a shit, and he was about to eat it. He couldn't believe it - she was really going to make him do this.
Feeling a familiar stirring in his pants, he tried to ignore the increasingly foul taste and continued to lap at her tender opening. She let out a satisfied groan, and soon enough, the first faint tremors of her bowel movement reached his tongue. With a mixture of revulsion and arousal, he continued to service her, his fingers digging deep into her crack to keep her open.
And then it happened - a sudden, urgent cramp in her abdomen, followed by the unmistakable sound of rushing water. He felt the first soft squishy turd push past his lips and into his mouth. He couldn't stop now - he had to keep going, or else she'd never let him live it down.
As the shit continued to flow, he found himself getting lost in the sensation. The taste was pungent and acrid, but there was something strangely intoxicating about it too. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to have that power - to control someone so completely, to reduce them to nothing more than a disgusting toilet.
By the time she finally released him, he felt like he could barely stand. His face was smeared with shit, his lips swollen and chapped. But as he caught her gaze, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. He had served her well, and for now, at least, he had escaped the threat of deportation.
