Natalia Kapretti - New toilet for shit, vomit and snot

I am thrilled to introduce my newest toilet slave, who will be joining me in my indulgence of scat fetishism. He is a young and inexperienced man, but I have high hopes for him. His journey to serve me began far away, and now he stands before me, trembling with anticipation and fear. But fear not, my dear slave, for you are now part of my world where shitting, vomiting, and snotting are all part of the fun.

As he kneels before me, his eyes are fixed on the ground, terrified but aroused by what awaits him. I can't help but marvel at the innocence he brings with him, for soon it will be replaced by the filth that defines our relationship. My toilet slave will learn to accept and embrace the filth that I introduce into his body, and in return, I will lavish him with affection and attention.

And so, my dear slave, let me begin by introducing you to your new home. It's a beautiful toilet, designed specifically for your pleasure (and mine). You'll be using it to eat my shit, drink my urine, and even swallow my snot. Isn't it marvelous?

I begin to undress him, slowly revealing his naked body to the world. He flinches under my touch, but I continue nonetheless. Soon, I have him where I want him: kneeling before the toilet, his head bowed in submission. "Now, slave, let's get started," I say softly, my voice tinged with the anticipation of our first shared moment. "Open your mouth wide, and let me show you what it means to be my toilet."

And so I do. I push my first turd into his mouth, watching as he gags and chokes on its unfamiliar texture. But he doesn't stop there; he continues to beg for more, his eyes wide with surprise and disgust mixed in with excitement. I smile to myself; my slave is already proving himself quite adept at taking my filth.

Next, I introduce him to the joy of vomit play. As he starts to feel queasy from the shit in his stomach, I encourage him to vomit into the toilet bowl. He does so reluctantly at first, but soon enough, he's retching into the bowl with abandon. After each vomit, I reward him with a gentle pat on the back and a reminder of his place in the world: my toilet slave.

Finally, it's time for the grand finale: snot play. I take my hand and wipe away any remaining tears or snot from his face, collecting a healthy amount of the disgusting substance on my hand. Then, with a wicked smile, I push it into his mouth. He struggles against me, but it's too late; the snot is already flowing down his throat. He coughs and splutters, trying to rid himself of the unfamiliar taste, but I won't let him go that easily.

Instead, I lean in closer, my mouth just inches from his ear. "Now, slave," I whisper softly, "you're mine. You'll accept all of my fluids, and you'll love every last drop of them. Because if you don't, well..." I trail off, leaving the threat hanging in the air.

But my slave doesn't need me to finish that sentence. He knows what's at stake here: his place in my world, his acceptance into my twisted inner circle. So, with one final look of resignation mixed with arousal, he nods his head slowly. "Yes, Mistress," he says softly, his voice barely audible above the gentle swirling of the water in the toilet bowl. "I am yours."