No Mercy Toilet Slavery - Drink my pee slave - 3

By Dr. Cline The image of my toilet slave drinking my pee while wearing a funnel around his mouth would truly be a sight to behold. It's evident that he's devoted to fulfilling my every whim and desire, no matter how humiliating or degrading it may be. In this particular instance, it's clear that I'm in control of even his basic bodily functions, like drinking.

As I sit on the toilet, my legs spread wide open exposing my wet sex, I feel a tremendous sense of power knowing that my slave is kneeling before me, pleading for the chance to please me further. The sight of his needy cock, already leaking my piss from how aroused he is, fills me with an indescribable thrill.

I take a step closer to him, placing one of my high heels right on top of his shoulder, and lean down so close that our noses are almost touching. With my other hand, I grab the funnel from the side and thrust it roughly into his open mouth, pushing down onto his tongue until it's wedged securely inside.

I can see the terror in his eyes as he realizes what I'm about to do—but also the desperation. This is a man who has become so addicted to my piss that he would willingly endure any humiliation just to keep drinking it. It's the ultimate display of power and control, and it makes my heart race with excitement.

I sit back down on the toilet, my weight pressing down on his shoulder, and begin to release a steady stream of pee into the funnel. I watch with twisted delight as his Adam's apple bobs up and down as he struggles to swallow all of my liquid waste.

He makes pathetic gurgling sounds while trying not to choke on the funnel, but I don't let up—I want him to feel every drop of my piss going down his throat. As the last dribbles end up in his stomach, he starts to whimper, begging for mercy.

"Please, Mistress," he whispers, his voice hoarse from trying to speak around the funnel. "May I please taste your divine nectar?"

I smile cruelly at him, the urge to laugh rising up in me. He truly is pathetic, but that's exactly why I love him. I pull the funnel out of his mouth and pick up a nearby glass of water, pouring a bit into the funnel and holding it in front of his face.

"Drink," I command, the power in my voice matching the authority in my eyes.

With a shaking hand, he reaches out and takes the funnel from me, carefully tipping it into his mouth and swallowing the water. It's only a small taste compared to what he truly craves, but it's enough to keep him begging for more.

As I watch him, I can't help but imagine how good it would feel to have his tongue cleaning the inside of my dirty asshole after a long day of using him as my personal toilet slave. The thought makes me wet once more, and I lean forward slightly, allowing him a better view of my glistening folds.

He moans softly, unable to resist the temptation of my Goddessly cunt. I smile darkly, knowing that my toilet slave will do anything I ask—even clean my ass with his own tongue if it meant getting a taste of my piss.

I stand up slowly, towering over him as I step out of the funnel and dispose of it in the trash can beside us. Walking behind him, I reach down and spread his legs even wider apart, exposing his vulnerable hole to my gaze.

"Clean it," I whisper huskily in his ear.

Without waiting for a response, I reach into my pocket and pull out a small vial of my piss, uncapping it and pouring a generous amount over his quivering hole. I grab a handful of his hair and roughly yank his head back, giving me better access to his mouth.

"Suck it up," I command, punctuating each word with a sharp tug on his hair. "Every last drop."

Despite the pain and humiliation he must be feeling, he opens his mouth obediently, allowing my piss to seep inside. He moans loudly around the mouthful of my waste, his tongue dancing against the walls of my vial as he tries to coax out more liquid.

I watch with satisfaction as he cleans my asshole with his own saliva, savoring the sight of him pleasuring me in such a degrading yet pleasurable manner. This is the power I crave—to control someone so completely that they become an extension of my will.

As I feel my excitement reaching its peak, I pull my cock out of my panties and shove it into his eager mouth, gagging him on the first thrust. He moans around my shaft, trying to communicate his desire to please me further.

With one hand holding him tightly by the hair, I use the other to stroke myself slowly, feeling the familiar heat building up in my core. I lean down again, close enough that our breaths mingle together as I whisper in his ear.

"Swallow my cum, you worthless piece of shit," I growl menacingly.

Without waiting for a reply, I shove my hips forward, unloading a hot, thick load of cum down his throat. He chokes and coughs as he tries to get used to the sudden influx of liquid, his entire body trembling with the effort of containing his reaction.

I step back, my heart pounding with excitement. Looking down at him, all I see is a pathetic creature, covered in my pee and piss-soaked cum. But I also see the ultimate symbol of my power—a man who will do anything I ask, no matter how degrading it may be.

The thought sends shivers of pleasure down my spine. I may never get tired of this game... but then again, that's part of the thrill. If there's one thing I crave more than anything else, it's control. And as long as my toilet slave continues to submit to me, I know I'll always have it.

I turn away from him, grabbing a towel from the rack next to me and wiping myself clean. As I walk away, leaving him there on his knees, I can't help but wonder what new degrading task I'll have for him tomorrow. But one thing is for certain—he'll be there, waiting for my command. He doesn't have a choice... because he's mine.