Toilet Slaves Scatology - I Begged My Mistress to Shit on My Face! - Part 2

As soon as I finished calling her Mistress and begging her to use me however she desired, she stood up from the toilet and approached me with a devious grin. She was wearing a black, latex, corset-like top that barely contained her ample breasts, and a pair of leather shorts that barely covered the plump globes of her ass. Her intentions were clear as she pulled me to my feet and locked my wrists in the shackles hanging from the wall. The cold metal bit into my skin, adding another layer of humiliation to my already precarious position. She made me kneel before her, my head bowed in submission. She planted her hands on her hips and looked down at me with a mixture of sadism and amusement. "Now, you're truly mine," she purred, running her tongue over her perfect, painted red lips. Suddenly, she bent over and lifted her skirt, revealing her glistening asshole to my eager eyes. My heart raced as I saw the promise of what was to come. Without further warning, she pulled down my face mask and pushed my head between her legs. The feeling of her warm breath and soft skin against me sent shivers down my spine. She placed one hand on my head and pushed me forward, forcing my tongue to make contact with her slick anus. She groaned, the musky scent of her arousal filling my nostrils. With her other hand, she reached behind her and began to finger herself, thrusting her middle finger in and out of her anus while I licked and kissed her opening. The moaning grew louder, more desperate, and I knew that she was close. And then, just as I had hoped, she started to push. Small, tentative pushes at first, feeling me out to make sure I was ready. But soon enough, she began to grunt and bear down, forcing her massive turd out of her rectum and onto my waiting tongue. The taste was exquisite, a combination of bitter, salty, and slightly sweet. With each powerfully stinky shit forced out of her, she pushed me further down, making me consume every last drop of her shit. As the final, thick turd slid past my throat, I couldn't help but moan in ecstasy. This was what I had been waiting for, what I needed. My mistress's shit was the ultimate symbol of her control over me. She pulled her fingers from her anus and stood up, looking down at me with a satisfied smile. "That's a good little toilet slave," she cooed, reaching down to rub my hair. "Now, let's see if you've learned your lesson." She turned her back to me and squatted back down over the toilet, ass in the air once again. "Take a whiff of this," she challenged, her voice filled with mischief. "If you want to please me, you'll do better next time." Reluctantly, I lifted my head and sniffed at her awaiting asshole. The thick, earthy scent was overwhelming, but beneath it was something else - a hint of vulnerability that made me want to please her even more. So, with renewed determination, I licked my lips and positioned myself below her, ready to taste her shit and worship her every hole, every day of my life.