Fecal Luxury - Shit Need Satisfaction

The scent of Madam Tulpan's shit filled the air as she thrust her ass to my face, her thighs slamming against my mouth. Her ass cheeks were firm and round, pressed tightly around the bulge of her rectum. I could feel the warmth of her feces-filled body against my skin. With a loud noise, she expelled a massive turd into my waiting mouth. It was warm, slimy, and filled with the bitter taste of her intestinal juices. I couldn't help but gag as she grunted, pushing more of her fetid feces past my lips and into my throat. Finally, she pulled her ass away from my face, leaving me spluttering and retching. She stood there, her cocky grin plastered on her face as she looked down at me with her sharp, blue eyes. "Well, shithead," she purred, "was that satisfying enough for you?" I nodded frantically, still trying to get the fetid taste of her shit out of my mouth. She chuckled darkly before pushing me to my knees. "Then it's time for the main course." With that, she slowly lowered her black velvet mini-skirt and black satin blouse, revealing a pair of shimmering silver high heels. The heels were dotted with clumps of her shit, the soles covered in a thick crust of feces. My heart raced as I realized what she wanted me to do. "No, please!" I cried out, my words muffled by the taste of her shit still lingering in my mouth. "I can't!" She smacked me hard across the face with the shit-covered heel of her shoe, drawing blood. "You will," she hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. I lowered my head, my eyes fixed on the shiny surface of the silver heels. I could feel my stomach churning as I readied myself for what was coming. With shaking hands, I reached out and grasped the heel of her shoe. The taste of her shit was overwhelming, an intense mix of bitter and sour that made me want to gag. But I forced myself to swallow, to clean off every last morsel of her feces-covered soles with my tongue. As I worked, my mind wandered to thoughts of how filthy we looked, how perverted our actions were. Finally, she pulled her foot away from my mouth, the stench of her shit filling the air once again. "Now," she said, her voicering with command, "lick off the shit from the bottom of my shoe." With shaking hands, I reached up and grasped the bottom of her shoe. The shit glazed surface was cool against my skin, and I could feel the uneven texture of the crusted feces. My tongue darted out, tracing the lines of her filth. My stomach roiled and threatened to revolt as I cleaned her shit-covered shoes. As I worked, Madam Tulpan's eyes roamed hungrily over my body, taking in every filthy inch of me. Her tongue traced her lips hungrily as she watched me lap up every last drop of her shit. I could feel her arousal, the heat emanating from her body as she watched me clean her shoes. Finally, she kicked her hair out of her face, smirking. "Very good," she purred, her voice a whisper of satisfaction. She reached down and grabbed my chin in her hand, forcing me to look up at her. "Now, suck on the shit covered heels." With a moan, I complied, my tongue snaking out to explore the feces coated surface of her shoes. The taste was intense, bitter and sour and salty all at once. But I could feel the heat of Madam Tulpan's arousal against my skin, the thudding of her heartbeat in my ear. Suddenly, she reared back and slapped me hard across the face with the heel of her other shoe. The smack echoed in the room, ringing in my ears. "Remember," she hissed, her eyes flashing with anger, "this is my plaything. My fecal luxury." I nodded dumbly, understanding that she held all the power here. That I was nothing but her filthy toy, to be used and abused at her whim. I would do anything she wanted, clean up any mess she made, just to please her. And so, for the rest of the night, I followed her every command, cleaning her shit with my tongue and hands. I was her fecal slave, her toilet slave, and I loved every dirty, perverse moment of it.