The room was dimly lit, casting an erotic shade over the scene before me. Mistress Anna sat gracefully on the throne-like toilet, her demeanor both regal and alluring. Her pert ass glistened in the candlelight, a tempting mound that called to mind forbidden desires. She was dressed in an elegant black corset and stockings, her plump thighs nestling together invitingly. On the floor below her sat her servant, head bowed submissively as he waited for his mistress's command.
Mistress Anna surveyed her servant with a look of amused contempt, her full lips curling into a smirk. "Time for breakfast, my little toilet slave," she purred, her voice dripping with sweet cruelty. The servant's eyes widened in anticipation and dread—he knew what was coming.
Slowly, Mistress Anna lowered herself onto the porcelain throne, her round cheeks spreading apart as she released a hot stream of feces into the waiting bowl below. Her asshole was like a tight, glistening orifice, inviting and yet repulsive at the same time. The servant couldn't take his eyes off of it, mesmerized by its forbidden beauty.
With a flick of her wrist, Mistress Anna beckoned him closer. "Come now, my slave," she crooned. "It's time to feed."
The servant approached on trembling knees, his heart racing in his chest. He knelt before her, his gaze fixed on the steaming pile of shit below. With trembling hands, he reached out and gingerly touched the warm, soft meat between Mistress Anna's cheeks. She laughed softly, a vindictive sound that sent shivers down his spine.
"Don't be so timid," she scolded, slapping his head with the flat of her hand. "Your tongue was made for this."
As if possessed, the servant thrust his tongue deep into Mistress Anna's asshole, lapping up the warm, sweet-smelling feces that coated the insides of her rectum. He couldn't believe the taste—it was both repulsive and arousing, filling him with conflicting emotions. Still, he pressed on, eager to please his mistress and earn her approval.
Mistress Anna moaned softly, her hips undulating in rhythm with his tongue's movements. The sound of slurping echoed through the room, adding to the surreal atmosphere. She withdrew gently, teasing him with the promise of more. The wait was agonizing, but eventually, she lowered herself onto the toilet once again, taking care to angle her asshole just so.
"Eat it all," she commanded, her voice a low growl. And so he did. His tongue darted in and out of her asshole, eager to cleanse her of every last morsel of shit. She watched him intently, her eyes glinting with amusement and satisfaction.
As he lapped up the last bits of shit from her asshole, Mistress Anna stood up and stepped away. "Now, it's your turn," she purred, gesturing to the toilet bowl. She pressed his face down into the warm mess, keeping his head submerged as he struggled to breathe. The shit was thick and cold against his face, dribbling down his throat as he opened his mouth wide to avoid choking.
It was an intimate moment, one that left us both covered in filth and humiliation. But for Mistress Anna, it was a display of power and control—a reminder that she was in charge and could reduce her slave to nothing more than a disgusting, filthy toilet cleaner.
As he gagged on the bitter taste of shit, I couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of arousal. This was our routine, our sick game, and I knew that despite the humiliation, I would do anything to please my mistress. Mistress Anna may be toilet-bound, but she was beautiful all the same, and I was hers to command.
