Mistress StellaMi, a stunningly beautiful and dominant woman, sat on the golden throne in her lavish bathroom, her perfect body clad in a sheer black bodysuit that accentuated every curve. Her long, luscious hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, framing her delicate features and piercing eyes. She held the phone to her ear, her expression unreadable as she listened to the call from her slave. The man on the other end of the line was a wretched, miserable creature, utterly devoted to his mistress and yet he still required her permission to speak with his own wife.
"Hello?" he murmured weakly.
"You may speak," Mistress StellaMi said coldly, her voice like ice. She could feel the power surge through her veins as she heard the tremor in his voice.
"Um... yes, Mistress?" he asked nervously. "I was wondering if I could speak with my wife, please?"
Mistress StellaMi chuckled softly. "I can understand why you would want that." She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against the cool marble of the vanity countertop. "But first, tell me why?"
The man hesitated, his heart racing. "She... she's not feeling well, Mistress. I wanted to check on her."
Mistress StellaMi contemplated for a moment before nodding. "Very well," she said finally, her voice somehow both sweet and sinister. "But remember, this is my domain. You must address her as 'Mistress Umas'."
The slave's heart sank but he nodded his understanding. He quickly got off the phone and found his wife, pale and shivering in their bed. She turned to look at him with wide, frightened eyes. "What is it?" she asked, her voice quavering.
He took a deep breath and then spoke the words that made her heart stop. "Your mistress, Mistress Umas, she wants to speak with you."
His wife's stomach dropped and she felt a chill run down her spine. She knew what that meant: trouble. With trembling fingers, she took the phone from him and held it to her ear. "Hello?" she whispered.
"Hello, my little whore," Mistress Umas purred on the other end, her voice making the hairs on the back of the wife's neck stand on end. "I hope I'm not disturbing you too much."
The wife swallowed hard, her mouth dry. "No, Mistress," she squeaked out. "I mean, um... yes, Mistress."
Mistress Umas grinned maliciously. "I'm glad to hear it," she said, her voice as sharp as a razor. "Now then, tell me why you're not feeling well."
The wife's eyes darted around the room, looking for something - anyone - to rescue her from this horrible situation. But there was no one. She was all alone with her husband's mistress. "I'm... I'm just a bit under the weather, Mistress," she lied. "Nothing serious."
Mistress Umas laughed coldly. "I see," she said. "Well, perhaps I can help you feel better." And with that, she began to humiliate the wife as only she could. "Tell me, how does it feel to know that your husband is a pathetic slave to another woman?"
The wife was taken aback by her cruelty. "It hurts, Mistress," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.
Mistress Umas licked her lips, her gaze hardening. "Good," she hissed. "Because your husband loves serving me far more than he ever loved you."
The wife's heart broke into a million pieces at the idea of her husband finding happiness with another woman while she suffered. But she couldn't deny the truth of the statement.
"Now," Mistress Umas continued, her voice like a blade slipping between the wife's ribs. "I think it's only fair that your husband experiences a small taste of what you're enduring." And with that, she hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair, grinning evilly.
Meanwhile, the husband was back before his mistress. "Well?" she asked impatiently.
He shook his head, his face a mask of misery. "She's not feeling well, Mistress. She asked for your help."
Mistress Umas chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "So, my little pet," she said sweetly, pulling him closer to her. "Tell me how you feel about your wife right now."
He looked into her eyes and felt the power she held over him. "I... I don't like it when she hurts, Mistress," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
She could taste his vulnerability and she loved it. "I know just the thing to make you feel better," she purred, her hand reaching for the cell phone in her pocket. "Now, dip your head in the toilet and start by drinking some of my urine."
The husband hesitated, his body trembling with fear and desire for his mistress's approval. "Please, Mistress," he whispered, lowering his head into the murky water.
Mistress Umas watched him, her heart racing with excitement as he began to lap up her golden nectar like a thirsty beast. She allowed him a few moments to enjoy the taste before snapping her fingers. "That's enough," she commanded.
He pulled his head back, his face flushed with shame and arousal. "Thank you, Mistress," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
With an impish grin, she snapped her fingers again, commanding him to open his mouth. "Now, kiss my shit," she purred, her fingers digging into his hair as she lowered her perfect derriere onto his face.
He closed his eyes tightly as he tasted her forbidden fruit again, the tangy flavor filling his mouth. As he swallowed, he could feel her power coursing through him, making him hers completely.
Finally, when she deemed he had endured enough humiliation, Mistress Umas stood up and pulled him to his feet. "Now you're ready to serve once more," she said, her tone both sweet and menacing. "Remember, you are nothing but a toy to me."
And with that, she vanished into the shadows, leaving the broken slave trembling with a mix of fear and excitement for the next time she called.
