As the days passed, Mistress continually found new ways to test and push her toiletslave's limits. One such surprise came one fine morning when she presented him with a pair of bright yellow panties. "Today, my little toiletslave," she purred, "you will learn to crave the taste of my shit and piss through these panties."
The thought made his cock twitch in his cage, but he knew better than to respond. His Mistress had a wicked sense of humor and enjoyed tormenting him both physically and mentally. Still, there was something about the way she spoke that sent shivers down his spine.
She ordered him to kneel before her and, before he knew it, she'd pulled those yellow panties up her perfect round ass. "Taste my shit, slave," she commanded. Unsure of what was expected of him, he tentatively leaned forward and ran his tongue along the elastic waistband of her panties.
To his surprise, she let out a satisfied moan. "That's it, slave," she purred. "You're doing great." As he licked and prodded around the edge of her panties, she pressed her ass harder against his face, grinding her hips in a clear invitation to take more.
Hesitantly, he slipped his tongue inside the panties and tasted her. The shit was warm and salty on his tongue, and there was a strange hint of sweetness to it that he couldn't quite place. It wasn't unpleasant, though. Quite the contrary—it stirred something deep within him, something dark and forbidden that he'd never encountered before.
"That's it, slave," she said encouragingly. "Now, drink my piss."
Confused but eager to please, he reached up with his free hand and slipped a finger into the crotch of her panties. He felt her hot, sweet piss dripping down his finger, and he couldn't help but moan. As he brought his finger to his lips, he tasted her piss, too. It was different from anything he'd ever tasted before—sweet and tangy, with just a hint of bitterness that made his cock throb in his cage.
With every sip, every lick, every taste, he felt himself falling deeper under her spell. He was no longer a man; he was her toiletslave, and he would do anything she asked of him. He continued to lap at her shit and piss through her panties, savoring every last drop, every last morsel.
As he knelt there, eyes closed in bliss, he heard her soft chuckle. "You're a natural, slave," she murmured. "I think you're going to be very good at this." He couldn't reply; he was too consumed by the strange, otherworldly pleasure coursing through his veins. All he could do was nod in agreement, his cock throbbing in his cage as he awaited her next command.
