Toiletslaveanddommes's new latex mask arrived today, and I'm excited to use it on my slave. The mask has a lifelike, red-colored mouth that is opened wide and has an extended tongue, and it's the perfect tool for utter humiliation. My slave is currently kneeling before me, his cock and asshole exposed, waiting for his mistress's commands.
"Get up, slave," I order. "Come here and open your mouth."
He obeys, and I grip the back of his head firmly. With my other hand, I reach into the cage protecting his balls, squeezing them gently. His cock twitches as he prepares himself for what's coming next.
"You're going to wear this mask while I prepare your meal," I tell him, holding the mask up to his face. "This is going to make it much easier for you to understand what a worthless piece of shit you are."
He nods, his eyes filled with fear and anticipation. With one swift movement, I push the mask down onto his face, securing it behind his head. His breathing hitches as he feels the cool latex press against his skin.
"Good boy," I say, walking away to prepare his meal. I know what he's thinking: what will it be this time? Will it be piss or will it be a mixture of piss and diarrhea? The thought excites me even more than it does him.
While I'm in the kitchen, my slave begins to whimper and moan softly beneath the mask. He can't help himself; the feel of the latex against his skin is driving him wild with arousal. But when I return with his meal, he knows better than to show any signs of pleasure.
I hand him a bowl of steaming hot soup. As he looks down at it, he sees that it's filled with my piss and diarrhea. His stomach turns at the sight, but he knows better than to complain.
"Drink it all," I order.
He begins to drink, his face contorted in disgust as the warm liquid slides down his throat. But he doesn't stop there. I want him to smear my shit all over his body as well, and he knows it.
Using the mask, he scrapes some of the shit from the bowl and begins to spread it over his chest and belly. Then, without being told, he reaches down and begins to rub it onto his cock. I can't help but chuckle darkly at his eagerness.
As he continues to plead with every ounce of his being for a stronger orgasm, I film the entire encounter from several angles. My pussy lips open and close slowly above him, teasing him with the promise of more humiliation if he pleases me.
When he finally cums, shooting his load across the room in a desperate attempt to get away from the overwhelming pleasure, I smile. It's almost enough to make me cum too. But there's still more work to be done.
I walk over to him and kneel beside him, my pussy hovering just out of reach. "Clean it up," I order, pointing at his cum-covered body. He nods gratefully, eager to please his mistress once more.
As he starts cleaning himself, I lean in close to the camera and whisper something that only those with the deepest pockets and darkest desires would understand. My voice is low and sultry, almost hypnotic.
"Would you like a custom movie, my dear? One where you can be the star, the center of attention? A place where your filthiest fantasies can come true? Don't be shy now. Speak up."
