In Part 1 of our Toilet Slaves Scatology story, the busty stripper Andrea had thoroughly humiliated us by forcing us to eat her used toilet paper and then feasting on our own feces. We were her disgusting toilet slaves, and she intends to make us feel even dirtier in this second installment of our twisted tale.
The party raged on as Andrea continued to dominate us, her two toilet slaves. She danced and teased, giving only the occasional command for one of us to clean up her mess while the other served her drinks. Our disgrace was on full display for all the guests to see, and it seemed like everyone was enjoying the spectacle.
As the night grew late, Andrea decided it was time to take things up a notch. She excused herself from the crowd, clearly heading towards the bathroom. My heart raced with anticipation as I knew what she was about to do. I couldn't help but feel a mix of dread and arousal at the thought of being covered in her filth once again.
I watched helplessly as she emerged from the bathroom, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. She strutted over to us, her hips swaying enticingly. Before we even knew what was happening, she pulled down her panties and squatted over our heads.
With a loud sigh of satisfaction, she let loose a torrent of urine, drenching us both. The warm, stinging liquid poured over our bodies, mingling with her earlier deposits of piss and shit. She stood up, stepping out of the puddle she had created, and we could see that she was still leaking heavily.
She looked at us with a wicked glint in her eye, challenging us not to enjoy this. Then, she bent down and scooped up a handful of the puddle, smearing it across our faces. I couldn't help but moan as the urine hit my lips, tasting bitter and salty. She repeated this process until we were both covered once again.
But that wasn't all. With a devilish laugh, she turned around and sat down on the edge of the pool table. She spread her legs wide, inviting us to get closer. Her pussy was glistening with her own juices, and I could see a trail of fresh shit leading to it.
Despite my revulsion, my cock twitched in anticipation. I could feel my toilet slave brother next to me, similarly conflicted. We both knew what we were about to do, and there was no turning back now.
With trembling hands, we approached our mistress. She beckoned us closer, her gaze locked on ours. We knelt before her, our noses just inches from her gaping hole. And then, we plunged our faces into the warm, stinking mess that was her ass and pussy.
We lapped at her juices and licked her anus clean, savoring the mix of her sweet taste and the rancid filth that coated her most intimate places. She moaned in pleasure as we worshipped her, her body quaking with excitement.
When she finally climaxed, her orgasm sending shockwaves through our systems, she stood up and clapped us on the back. We were covered in the full spectrum of her discharge, from her piss to her sweat to the copious amounts of slimy love juices she had produced.
She leaned down and whispered in our ears, her hot breath tickling our sensitive flesh. "You are my toilet slaves, and I am your queen. We will continue to defile ourselves together, always remembering who holds the power here."
And with that, she strutted away, leaving us to revel in our own filth and make plans for our next depraved act of devotion to her.
