As the man knelt before his Mistress, his heart raced with anticipation and fear. He watched as she picked up a handful of his waste from the toilet bowl, twirling it around between her fingers teasingly. She approached him slowly, her heels clicking on the floor, her dark eyes fixed on his own. His mouth watered uncontrollably as the foul stench assaulted his senses. He could hear his own soft whimpers escaping his throat as she leaned over him, dangerously close to his face.
She slowly brought her hand with the vile mixture towards his lips, and he couldn't help but part them slightly in response. With a wicked grin, she dabbed it onto his face, smearing the rough, cold poop across his cheeks, forehead, and chin. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out the disgusting sensation, but it was too late. The slippery texture of the feces slid down his skin, sticking to him in uncomfortable ways.
"Open your eyes," she commanded softly, her breath hot on his face. Slowly, he obeyed, feeling a mix of shame and exhilaration wash over him as he looked into her dark eyes. The feces was now smeared all over his face, covering his own vomit from earlier. It made him shiver with revulsion and excitement at the same time.
She chuckled wickedly, amused by his reactions. "You look like a real piece of work," she murmured, the corners of her lips twitching into a dangerous smile. She took another handful of his waste and began smearing it across his chest, rubbing it into his shirt and skin. It was cool against his hot flesh, making him shiver again.
"Now, you're truly mine," she purred. "My toilet slave. My filthy little toy."
She stroked his cheek gently with the back of her hand, pushing some of the poop onto his lips. He parted them this time, ready to taste the bitter sweetness that he knew would be there. She withdrew her hand, chuckling as he quickly swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Good boy," she cooed, reaching between his legs to stroke his growing erection through his pants brusquely. He moaned softly, unable to control his own body's reaction to the mixture of humiliation and pleasure. Slowly, she picked up a small lump of feces and brought it to his mouth once again. He opened obediently, feeling the heat and the cold at once as it melted onto his tongue.
"Good boy," she crooned again, her voice seeming to echo in the tiny room. She continued smearing him with more feces, covering every inch of his body with the vile substance. Soon, he was completely coated in it. The dominatrix stepped back to admire her work, a cruel smile playing on her lips.
"Now, get up," she said finally.
He struggled to stand, swaying unsteadily as he felt the weight of her poop on his skin. It was like walking in slow motion, each step feeling like an eternity as the feces threatened to slip and slide off him. But he managed, unsteadily, until he was standing before her once again.
She ran her fingers through the mess on his chest and grinned. "Now, you're all clean for me," she purred. With that, she leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips, their mouths mashed together in a dirty, messy kiss. He tasted his own filth mixed with hers, moaning softly as she pulled away with a wicked grin.
"That's my good little toilet slave," she whispered, patting him on the head. "You did well today."
With that, she turned and left the room, leaving him there covered in his own waste and hers. He felt a strange mix of emotions wash over him as he sank to the floor, leaning against the cold tile. A part of him was disgusted, a part of him was aroused, and a part of him was inexplicably free.
He knew he had been thoroughly humiliated and used, but there was also an odd sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. This was what his Mistress wanted from him, after all. He was her toilet slave, and he would do anything for her.
Content with this thought, he leaned back against the wall, his body aching from the unusual sensations. His heart raced faster than ever before, anticipating their next encounter, wondering what new degradations she would have in store for him. For now, he would rest in the filth, knowing that he had pleased his Mistress.
