Natalia Kapretti - He serves me the way I want it

Natalia Kapretti is the queen of her domain, and she knows it. Her slave is always at her beck and call, ready to serve her every wish and desire. Whether she wants him to fetch her wine glass or clean up her messes, he does it without hesitation. She's the master of his universe, and he knows it. He's hers, and she rules him with an iron fist wrapped in silk gloves. His whole world revolves around pleasing her, even when it comes to her scat fetish.

One day, as she sits upon her throne on the toilet, she motions for her slave to approach. He knows what's coming next and eagerly awaits her command. She smirks down at him, her eyes filled with a mischievous glint. "Bring me your tongue," she demands, leaning back against the cool porcelain. Without hesitation, the slave drops to his knees before her, parting his lips in submission. She seesks his tongue, taste testing his devotion as he begs for her approval. "Good boy," she murmurs softly before leaning forward once more. This time she slowly lowers herself onto his face, feeling the warmth of his breath against her most intimate places while he kneads at her ass cheeks with passionate fervor.

She moans in delight as he works his magic, his tongue swirling around her shaft of power until she can stand it no longer. With a single fluid motion, she pries him loose from her ass with one hand while grabbing a handful of his hair with the other. "Clean me up," she orders coldly. He nods once in understanding, turning his attention to her toilet as she retreats back inside to watch him work.

With trembling hands, the slave obsessively washes every inch of her toilet bowl with soft cotton pads dipped in warm water. It's an act of worship, a display of devotion that borders on religious fervor. When he's finished, he steps back to admire his handiwork, feeling a sense of pride welling up inside him. She walks over to inspect his work with icy eyes, a gentle sniff catching the scent of his efforts. He holds his breath, hoping against hope that he's done enough to please her.

After a long moment, she finally speaks. "Not bad," she says at last, her tone surprisingly soft. "You may serve me dinner now." With that, she stands up, stretching languidly before stepping over to the sink to wash her hands. The slave watches her every move, helplessly drawn to her and yet terrified of the power she wields over him. Despite the fear, he would do anything for her...because she's worth it. And besides, there's always the promise of another chance to serve her, another chance to prove his worthiness. And so, he waits patiently for the next command, his heart beating fast in anticipation.