Bastiennes Butt Butter - Good Afternoon Poo / LAYER NUMBER TWO

Bastienne rarely gave in to her slaves' demands. They were there to serve her, not the other way around. But today, she found herself feeling particularly cruel. As she sat on her golden throne, idly watching her slaves grovel at her feet, she decided to make one of them's day—or night—a living hell. "You," she said, gesturing to a pathetic-looking man curled up in the corner. "Stand up and approach your Mistress." The man trembled as he obeyed, his eyes never leaving the floor as he inched closer to her. Bastienne could see the fear in his eyes, and it only made her smile more. "I was feeling generous this morning," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So I collected a nice, big turd for you. But that wasn't enough. Oh no. You're going to get another layer of my shit, just for being such a good little slave." The man whimpered, and Bastienne couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. She reached down and picked up a peanut butter jar, using it as a makeshift vessel for her feces. It wasn't the cleanest method, but she liked knowing that he'd have to taste her shit every time he took a bite of his favorite food. "That's one layer," she said, smirking as she set the jar down. "Now, for the second layer. This is where it gets really exciting." She picked up an old, blue water bottle and filled it with her piss. She took her time, letting every drop of her urine flow into the bottle as she watched her slave squirm. When she finally finished, she held it up for him to see. "Tell me, slave," she said, enjoying the way his voice quavered. "Would you like a taste of my piss as well?" The man shook his head rapidly, his eyes pleading with her to stop. But Bastienne already knew the answer. She grabbed him by the hair and forced him to open his mouth, pouring some of her piss directly into his mouth. He gagged and choked, but Bastienne didn't stop there. "Now," she said, placing the butt plug in his ass, "drink my shit and pass out in bliss." As the poor slave attempted to obey his mistress's twisted command, Bastienne couldn't help but feel a sense of power course through her veins. She was in control, and they were all her playthings. With a contented sigh, she leaned back on her throne, watching as her slave struggled to contain the flood of filth coursing through his body. Maybe she would let him live...for now.