Mistress Mystique - The Abominable Feeding

It was a rainy day when Mistress Mystique invited the poor Italian to be her toilet slave. He couldn't believe his luck, finally granted the chance to serve such a mesmerizing figure, he jumped at the opportunity. Little did he know that what awaited him was an abominable feeding, one that would push him to his limits and beyond. As he knelt before his mistress, his eyes locked onto her perfect ass, an intoxicating mix of deviance and innocence that made him weak at the knees. The scent of her power was intoxicating, driving him to submit even further.

Mistress Mystique gracefully rose from her throne, her every movement deliberate and controlled. She sauntered over to him, her impossibly long legs a hypnotic sight. She towered over him, her ample cleavage displayed proudly through her tight latex dress. With a wicked grin, she reached down and hoisted him up by the collar. His cock, straining against the confines of his trousers, brushed against her thigh, sending waves of pleasure through him.

She led him to her plush queen-sized bed, which was spotless despite the rain pounding outside. She instructed him to lie down on the floor, his head at the foot of the bed, legs spread open wide. She chuckled at his hesitation, the delicious anticipation clear in her eyes. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she unzipped her dress, revealing nothing underneath but her rounded ass and a pair of black cotton panties. She slowly lowered herself onto his face, her glorious ass hovering mere inches above him.

She began to tease him, leaning forward and back so he could catch a glimpse of her perfect rear before being plunged back into darkness. She grinded against his face, her panties slowly becoming moist with anticipation. The scent of her arousal was almost overwhelming, making him dizzy with desire. With a sultry moan, she leaned forward and placed a hand on the back of his head, guiding him to take her panties into his mouth. He eagerly obliged, sucking on the damp fabric as if it were the most intoxicating elixir.

Mistress Mystique leaned back, giving him better access to her supple behind. She spread her cheeks wide open, revealing her tight little starfish anus. He could hardly believe his luck, he felt almost giddy with excitement. With one swift move, she positioned his cock at the entrance to her tight little anal canyon. He thrust forward, eager to claim his prize. She moaned in delight as he slowly began to penetrate her. The feeling of his cock pushing against her walls sent shivers down her spine.

As he began to thrust in and out, Mistress Mystique reached down and began to play with his balls, squeezing them gently in her hand. She pulled his head up by the hair, forcing him to look her in the eyes as she guided his movements with her hips. She was in total control, deciding the rhythm and pace of their intense union. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and grunts of pleasure.

Their passionate dance continued for what seemed like an eternity, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. Then, just when he thought he couldn't take any more, Mistress Mystique pulled him deeper into her abyss. With a shudder of pleasure, she felt her ass begin to execute an internal summersault, welcoming the arrival of his hot load deep within her womb. He moaned loudly as he filled her up, unable to hold back any longer.

Dazed and spent, Mistress Mystique allowed him to collapse onto the floor. She stood up, her body glistening with sweat and pleasure. She took a step back, surveying her handiwork with a sinister smile. "And what do we have here?", she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "A pathetic Italian who couldn't even handle being inside me!" She laughed heartily, dismissing him as nothing but trash.

The poor Italian was devastated, his dreams of serving Mistress Mystique shattered. He knew he had failed, that he would never be good enough. He crawled off to the corner of the room, hugging himself as he tried to get warm. The taste of failure was bitter on his tongue, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was indeed the end of his pathetic existence.

Mistress Mystique gazed down upon him, a sense of satisfaction washing over her. She had taught him a valuable lesson, one that he would never forget. He was nothing but a useless toilet, and she had no intention of using him ever again. With a flick of her wrist, she sent him off to clean himself up, contemplating the irony of his situation. Little did he know that this was only the beginning of his descent into servitude.