As Natalia Kapretti walked into the bedroom, her eyes fell on her slave husband, Milos, lounging on the bed as if it were his own. He had grown accustomed to the presence of her slave girls, who were always close by to attend to her every need. But today was going to be different. Today, she was going to remind Milos just how it was his duty to serve her.
She watched as he turned his head slightly, his expression curious but unaware of what was about to come. With a smirk, she slowly removed her robe, revealing her naked body. Her heart rate quickened at the sight of his lustful gaze moving over her curves. This was exactly what she needed to get him back on track.
"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," she purred, sliding naked onto the bed beside him. "It's been too long since we've had some quality time together, don't you think?"
Milos' eyes widened in realization, and he nodded nervously. He knew exactly what she was referring to. He had forgotten his place, started to slack off in his duties as her husband. But seeing her now, so close and so confident, made his heart race and his cock harden.
Natalia reached out, grabbing his chin roughly. "That's better," she said, squeezing just hard enough to leave a mark. "Now, let me remind you of what those duties are."
Without further hesitation, she leaned back against the bed and spread her legs wide, revealing her wet and eager pussy. Milos stared at it hungrily, his own arousal becoming impossible to ignore.
"You should know better than to keep me waiting," she scolded, making him shiver. "I want your tongue there, licking my pussy like the good little slave you are."
Milos knew he had no choice. He couldn't deny the commanding presence of his mistress as he lowered his head between her legs. He could feel her warmth on his tongue as he started to lick her, tasting her arousal. She groaned in pleasure, the sound driving him even deeper into submission.
As he continued to please her, she began to sit on his face, grinding her hips down on his mouth. He could feel her wetness covering his lips and chin, and he knew she was close. He had never been more grateful to be of service to her.
Eventually, she pulled back, her breathing ragged. "That's enough for now," she rasped, reaching for a tube of lube. "Get on your hands and knees."
Milos did as he was told, his heart pounding with anticipation. This was the part he both loved and dreaded—knowing what was coming, knowing it would hurt but also knowing it would feel so good.
She slicked up her hand, then grabbed his hips, pulling him closer to her. She could feel his tense muscles as she pushed her hand into his ass, her fingers digging deep inside him. He tried not to moan as she worked her fingers in and out, spreading his ass cheeks wider and wider. She could feel his warmth enveloping her hand, and she knew he was ready.
"Are you ready for me to fuck you like the worthless slave you are?" she asked, her voice full of menace. He nodded, unable to speak.
Without further warning, she sank her fist into his tight ass, groaning as she felt him taking every inch of her. He grunted from the pain but couldn't help the wave of pleasure that washed over him. He felt her hand moving in and out of him, faster and harder, driving him to the brink.
Finally, she pulled her hand free, leaving him breathless and completely spent. "That's a good slave," she purred, running her fingers through his sweaty hair.
She turned her attention away from him, leaning over to grab a shitty mop. "Now it's time for your morning toilet," she said, her voice cold and cruel.
Milos knew what she meant. He got down on his knees, his heart pounding with fear. She placed the mop in front of her, then turned her back to him. With trembling hands, he reached out, his fingers touching the cold, hard turd on the mop. His mind raced as he wondered what she had eaten—or perhaps who she had fucked—to produce such a massive load.
"Get to it, slave," she said, not turning around. "And make sure you clean it good."
With that, she walked away, leaving him alone with the mop and the horrifying task at hand. As he began to clean her toilet, he couldn't help but reflect on how far he'd fallen—from a man to a seen but not heard toilet slave. And yet, despite the humiliation and shame, he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride for being allowed to serve his mistress in such a personal and intimate way.
As he finished cleaning and rinsing the mop, he waited anxiously for her to return. Finally, she emerged from her bathroom, her naked body gleaming with sweat and soap. He couldn't help but stare at her, his cock once again hardening at the sight of her beauty.
"Well," she said, her voice softening slightly. "Did you enjoy your little reminder?"
He looked up at her, his eyes full of tears and gratitude. "Yes, mistress," he whispered. "Thank you for reminding me of my place."
She smiled, a cruel smile that sent a shiver down his spine. "You're welcome, slave," she purred, reaching down to run her hand through his hair one last time. "Now let's get some rest, because tomorrow we have a lot of fun planned."
As he lay in bed beside her, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. But one thing was certain: he was hers, body and soul. And no matter what she asked of him, he would do it—because that was his duty, as her slave.
