As we approached Miss Medeas dirty store, we couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The dimly lit exterior and sounds of moaning that echoed out from within only added to our curiosity. Once inside, we were greeted by Miss Madison, a tall, statuesque woman with piercing blue eyes and long, luscious red hair that framed her high cheekbones perfectly. She wore a tight latex outfit that hugged her curvaceous figure, accentuating her ample breasts and wide hips. Beside her stood a submissive figure, dressed in a similar latex uniform but with one key difference - he was completely covered in a mummification foil. His every movement was restricted, leaving him at the mercy of his mistresses.
"Do you like what you see?" Miss Madison purred, running her hand over the mummified figure's head. His eyes gazed up at her, filled with fear but also an unmistakable desire for punishment. She leaned in close, her lips grazing against his ear as she whispered, "Today, you won't just be our plaything... You will be our toilet."
As we watched in silence, Miss Madison unzipped the front of her outfit, revealing her bare crotch to the captive. Even though he was bound and gagged, we couldn't help but notice his cock begin to twitch in anticipation. She grinned wickedly and then turned to us, extending her hand. "Come on then, let's begin. But remember, you are here to serve us, not the other way around."
We nodded in agreement, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through our veins. We each approached the mummified figure, taking in the sight of his completely exposed body. His eyes met mine, pleading for mercy, but I couldn't help but feel drawn in by his helplessness.
Without another word, we each knelt down next to him and began our ritual. First, we pulled out small stools and sat on them, facing towards him. He looked up at our perfect asses, glistening with anticipation, and his eyes widened in fear. Miss Madison handed me a tube of shiny, red lipstick, which I used to draw a smirk on her latex-clad cheeks.
"Now," she purred, "you are going to worship our feet. Show us how much you desire us."
Our slave carefully crawled towards us, his eyes never leaving our feet. As he reached up, we lifted one leg at a time, exposing our soulless shoes. He took each shoes in his hands, pressing them against his cheeks, and began to lick. It was a slow, methodical process, as if he were savoring every inch of skin and sweat-soaked fabric.
We watched him with an air of satisfaction, occasionally nudging him with our toes to encourage him. As his tongue worked against the leather, we could see the saliva dripping onto the floor, forming small puddles around our helpless plaything.
After several minutes of foot worship, Miss Madison stood up and slowly unzipped her outfit, revealing her dark red panties underneath. She stepped out of them, kicking them towards our captive with a laugh. "Clean them," she commanded, her voice dripping with authority.
Our slave eagerly picked up her panties and began to sniff them, his cock now fully erect. He opened his mouth wide, revealing his tongue, and began to lick the damp fabric. As he did so, Miss Madison placed one foot on his shoulder, grinding her heel into his neck.
"That's it," she purred, "show us how much you appreciate our scent."
I watched as our slave continued to clean her panties, his tongue flicking against the delicate fabric. His eyes were closed now, lost in a world of depravity and desire.
"Now," Miss Madison said, pulling away, "I really have to use the toilet."
Our slave's eyes snapped open, fear flashing across his face. He knew what was coming next.
"You're going to serve as my personal toilet today," she continued, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "First, you're going to taste my pee, and then I'm going to fill your mouth with my shit."
She grabbed his head forcefully, pulling him closer. His nose twitched as he caught the faint scent of her urine. Then, she lifted up her leg, and he could feel her hot piss drizzling onto his tongue. He opened his mouth wider, letting the warm liquid flow onto his face.
"Now," she growled, "open wide and get ready for some real filth."
Her lips curled into a sneer as she pushed her hand deep into her wet pussy, grabbing a handful of her own shit. With a grimace of disgust, she shoved it into his mouth, forcing him to swallow every bit of her repulsive offering.
"That's it," she hissed, "take your master's shit. Show me how much you deserve this."
Together, we watched as our slave's face contorted in pain and pleasure, his body shaking with the intensity of his experience.
"You're doing great," Miss Madison purred, patting his head gently. "Now, it's my turn again."
She turned around, stark naked once again, and squatted over our helpless plaything. Her thick, meaty cock swayed tantalizingly close to his face, and he couldn't help but reach out and touch it. She slapped his hand away, her eyes blazing with anger.
"You'll get what you deserve," she hissed, "but not until I've used you properly."
With that, she grasped his head in her hands and began to shit onto his face. It was a torrent of filth, hot and stinky, covering his eyes and nose. He choked and gagged, but Miss Madison held him firmly in place.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she released him, and he collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at his humiliation.
"This is just the beginning," Miss Madison chuckled, pulling on a fresh pair of panties. "He'll be spending the rest of the day as our personal toilet."
We both laughed, and I reached down to touch our captive's face. The shame and degradation were clear in his eyes, but there was also a spark of excitement. He had been reduced to nothing more than a piece of filth, but he would do anything to please us.
Before leaving the room, we took one more look at our helpless toy. He lay there, surrounded by a sea of shit and piss, his body aching but his mind reeling with the intensity of his experience. We knew that he would be waiting for us, eager to please and ready for whatever twisted acts we had in store for him.
