Toilet Slaves Scatology - Two Girls, One Bowl - Part 2

In the dimly lit dungeon, Ahmya's glittering ass shook slightly as she took a moment to admire her creation - the perfectly mixed concoction of piss, shit, snot, and bits of cake floating in the clear glass bowl. She licked her lips, her heartbeat quickening at the thought of what her toilet slave would think when he saw what she had prepared for him. Ahmya turned around, letting her mistress-rama-outfit hang off one shoulder seductively. She reached down, puling her smeared panties off to reveal her smooth, glistening pussy. The scent of her arousal filled the air. "My turn, toilet slave." With a sultry smirk, Ahmya lowered herself onto the cold toilet seat, spreading her legs wide. She felt the familiar heat rising within her as the thought of being seen through the glass bowl overcame her. Hesitatingly but eagerly, she pushed out a pile of fresh, steaming turds into the bowl below. The sound of it splashing into the mix sent shivers down her spine. Slowly, Ahmya lowered herself further into the bowl, moaning softly as the cool water licked at her entrances. She reached behind her, plunging a finger deep into her tight, juicy asshole, wiggling it around as she watched her slave gobble up the disgusting mixture. Her other hand slowly began to rub her sopping slit, teasing herself as she watched his every move. Ahmya leaned into the bowl, her face just inches from the glass. She couldn't help but watch as he hungrily lapped up the mixture. "Is it as good as it looks?" She whispered sultrily, her breath fogging up the glass. An exquisite stomach-churning sensation coursed through her body as she felt herself getting wetter and wetter. Unable to resist the temptation any longer, she reached into the warm, slimy mixture and began to finger herself, her other hand still buried deep inside her ass. With every stroke, she watched in anticipation as his eager eyes never left the sight of her fingers disappearing into her soaked folds. The slave looked up, meeting Ahmya's gaze in the mirror. His eyes were filled with lust and obedience. He knew what he was there for. "Oh yes, Mistress," he moaned, picking up the pace of his lapping. Ahmya's eyes narrowed, a dark look of pleasure spreading across her features. She was in control here, and it felt so damn good. With one final thrust, she cried out in ecstasy, her sticky juices coating the glass and the slave's eager tongue. Panting heavily, she pulled herself upright, using the toilet seat for support. Looking down, Ahmya admired the mess she had made. The glass bowl was coated in a thin layer of her juices, the top of the mixture shimmered with fat droplets from their earlier activities. She felt a surge of power course through her veins as she realized the depths of her toilet slave's devotion. With a wicked smile, Ahmya reached down and gripped the slave's hair, pulling his mouth away from the bowl. His eyes darted up to hers, full of worry and anticipation. "You've been such a good boy, slave," She purred, congratulating him with a slap on the back. "Now clean me up." And with that, she stepped out of the bowl, leaving behind a trail of filth and arousal. The slave quickly moved in, licking up every last drop of her sticky mess from the furred edges of the bowl before turning his attention to his mistress's now sparkling clean behind.