MISTRESS ISABELLA - 514 pov ITA How do I turn my husband into a toilet

Mistress Isabella stood in her plush, marble-tiled bathroom, the warmth of the heated floor massaging her bare feet as she slipped out of her dress. She scowled at her reflection in the mirror, angered by the fact that her husband was late coming home from his evening errand - taking her out to dinner. "Men are so useless," she muttered under her breath, turning away from the vanity. She made her way into the ensuite, her voluptuous figure casting a shadow against the sparkling white tile as she approached the state-of-the-art toilet. The bidet fitted with a heated seat and automated dryer named Olivia. Mistress Isabella plopped down onto the warm seat, crossing her legs demurely as she lifted her chin, admiring the ceiling fixture. "It's a good thing I ordered a pizza," she continued to mutter to herself, absentmindedly tugging at a curl that had escaped her elaborately styled hair. "When he finally gets here, I'll make him eat it...with a little something extra." She chuckled darkly, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. "You're such a dirty boy, Roberto...I think you're going to love this." Glancing down, she watched as her reflection caught sight of her perfectly formed ass in the water below. Her heart raced with anticipation as she reached down, fingers curling around the hem of her lacy thong. With a devilish grin, she lifted her hand to her mouth, taking a hungry bite into the soft fabric. The taste of molten cheese and spicy pepperoni filled her senses as she savored the aroma wafting up from the half-eaten pizza on the vanity beside her. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation, and she licked her lips greedily. "Roberto...you're going to love this," she purred, her voice thick with desire. "You've always been such a dirty boy..." Slowly, she lowered her ass to the edge of the toilet seat, releasing her grip on the fabric just long enough to position herself over the bowl. She moaned softly as the cool porcelain pressed against her feverishly warm entrance, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. Mistress Isabella tilted her hips slightly, grinding down against the firm object beneath her. As she began to move, her fingers instinctively sought purchase in the sticky, gooey mess that coated Olivia's inner workings. With each downward thrust, she pushed deeper into the toilet, moaning louder as she felt the walls of the bowl start to stretch and conform to her shape. "Yes...oh god yes!" she cried out, hips bucking wildly as she lost herself in the sensation. With a sudden burst of energy, she pushed hard against the pounding in her lower stomach, painting a trail of her juices inside the bowl. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the familiar tightening in her gut. "Ahhh...Roberto..." she moaned, her voice barely audible over the sound of her orgasm. Her body trembled with the force of her release, hips still grinding against the toilet's cool surface as she came down from her high. Slowly, she pulled herself away, wiping the sticky liquid from her fingers on the hem of her thong. "Ahhh..." she sighed, shivering with aftershocks as she stood up. She turned to face the bidet, smirking as she met Olivia's gaze. "You're going to love this, Roberto," she purred, reaching down to stroke Olivia's gleaming surface. "You're going to be the best toilet ever."