MISTRESS ISABELLA - 389 SCAT POV: The lodger in arrears (ITA) Mistress Isabella

Lady Mistress Isabella was a tall, voluptuous woman with a commanding presence. Her luxurious dark hair cascaded down her back, framing her angelic face perfectly. She was well-dressed and exuded an air of sophistication that made her seem almost regal. Being a dominant figure, she often took in boarders to occupy her spacious home. One such lodger, a young and rather luckless man, had fallen behind on his payments. It was time for her to take matters into her own hands. As she made her way through the grand halls of her mansion, Mistress Isabella clutched the set of keys tightly in her hand. It was time to confront the man about his situation. Knocking on his door, she heard a faint response from within. "Yes, who is it?" came the feeble voice of the lodger. "It's Mistress Isabella," she replied coolly. "I need to speak with you about your rent." The door creaked open, revealing the shabby room of the lodger. He was a pitiful sight—dirty clothes strewn about, messy hair, and an overall air of negligence. "I'm sorry, my lady," he stuttered, "I've just had some tough times financially." Mistress Isabella eyed him up and down disdainfully. This man was nothing but a pest, and she had decided on how to deal with his problem. "I've had enough of your excuses," she declared firmly. "I'm going to change the lock." Panic flashed across the lodger's face. He knew what this meant—he was being kicked out. "Please, my lady! I beg of you, don't do that!" With a swift motion, Mistress Isabella pocketed a small set of tools and made her way towards the door. She turned to face him once more, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Oh, I'm not kicking you out just yet," she purred. "I have a far more... entertaining plan for you." The lodger didn't understand what she meant. He watched in horror as she moved behind him and began to fiddle with the lock. Before he knew it, the lock clicked and he realized he was trapped in his own room. His mind raced, trying to figure out what she could possibly have in store for him. And then she revealed her intention: she wanted him to act as her personal human toilet. "You disgusting creature," she hissed, "you've ruined my home with your filth." The lodger was appalled but also aroused by the idea. Despite himself, he felt a twinge of excitement as he removed his pants, presenting his helpless ass to the woman. "Do what you will with me," he whimpered, worshipping her feet. Without further ado, Mistress Isabella began to relieve herself, letting a steaming hot pile of feces fall onto the lodger's quivering ass. "This is what you are," she spat contemptuously, "nothing but a repository for my waste." She continued to poop on him, never breaking eye contact, allowing him to see every disgusting detail of her act. When she was finished, she rose gracefully and collected a small bucket of urine from beside the bed. "Now drink," she commanded, pouring the warm stream of piss over his body. As he opened his mouth to drink, she added, "And don't forget to swallow every drop." The lodger's body shook with both fear and desire as he obeyed, taking in her essence. It was the most humiliating experience of his life, yet also the most thrilling. As he finished, he gazed up at his Mistress, his eyes full of love and adoration. "Thank you, my lady," he whispered gratefully. Mistress Isabella smirked. This was just the beginning of his servitude. She sat on the edge of the bed, surveying her collection of shit and piss. "From now on," she decreed, "you will be loyal to me, whether you can pay your rent or not. Because you belong to me." As she stood up, dusting off the remains of her excrement from her clothes, the lodger felt an indescribable sense of contentment wash over him. He knew that this was his new role in life—to be used by Mistress Isabella whenever she pleased. And he would gladly take it, because nothing could compare to the feeling of being wanted by such an exquisite woman.