Toilet Slaves Scatology - I Love Eating My Girls Scat! - Part 3

Part 3: Toilet Slaves Scatology - I Love Eating My Girls Scat!

My face was coated in the warm, wet, smelly traces of her feces as she laughed maniacally. I could feel her powerful yet seductive aura overwhelming me as she towered above me, completely dominating our intimate scenario. Every inch of my being was hers to command and she knew it – reveling in the perverse control she wielded over her loyal toilet slave. Without warning, she bent down to my level once more, her curvaceous body just inches away from my face. Without warning, she pushed her soiled fingers back into my mouth, coating them in the remnants of her feces. She smiled sadistically as I desperately tried to avoid the taste and texture of her filth, but my resistance was futile against her unyielding strength. She took this as a sign of submission, and with a mischievous gleam in her eye, she thrust her freshly defecated turd straight into my mouth. The chunk of shit was warm and slimy against my tongue, filling my mouth to the brim with its sickly sweet scent. I gagged and choked, trying to expel the foul object from my mouth, but my mistress had other plans. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against my cheek as she whispered into my ear, "Swallow, you pathetic toilet slave." Her voice was like honey, sweet yet commanding, and it sent shivers down my spine. There was no choice but to obey; I had to swallow that disgusting piece of shit or face the consequences. So, with a defeated sigh, I swallowed the chunk of feces whole, feeling it slide slowly down my throat as she watched on with a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. It was then that I knew what she desired next – more of her perfect poop to consume. And so, our twisted ritual continued: She'd take a shit in the toilet, scrape it up with her fingers, and force-feed it to me like it was some sort of delicacy. I had no choice but to open my mouth and accept her repulsive gifts, tasting the varying flavors of her diet on my tongue. Sometimes it was bitter from coffee or spicy from chili peppers; other times it was sweet from sugary treats or fruity from her latest vegan smoothie experiment. No matter what it tasted like, though, there was one common thread that bound us together: Our shared love of scatology. She reveled in my subservience and enjoyed the power trip that came with it; I found solace in knowing that this was something we could share together, no judgment, no questions asked. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, our relationship grew stronger, founded on a bedrock of fecal fetishes and taboo desires. And in that moment, as I eagerly awaited my next bite of her exquisite excrement, I knew that there was nowhere else in the world I'd rather be than at her feet - her loyal toilet slave, living out our twisted fantasy world together.