Scene: Lady Angie and her best friend are enjoying a luxurious, leisurely afternoon at home when the need to relieve themselves arises. They decide to incorporate their toilet slave into their activities, using him for both his intended purpose and as an object of humiliation.
It was a lovely day spent catching up on gossip and sipping champagne when my best friend, Lady Angie, glanced down at her wine glass and frowned. "Hmm, I think I may have drunk too much," she said, her brow furrowing in thought. She finished off the last drop and set the glass down on the coffee table gently. "I really have to pee now."
I chimed in, my eyes wide with anticipation. "And your asshole slave is still here?" I asked, hoping she'd agree to use him in the most degrading way possible.
Lady Angie smirked devilishly. "Why yes, he is, sweetie," she replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Let's give him a little job to do," she winked.
We sauntered over to where our toilet slave was chained to the wall, his eyes downcast in shame and his body trembling slightly. She pulled a napkin with a hole in the center from her pocket and placed it over his face, effectively gagging him. Next, she undid her pants and squatted over his face, her thick bush of pubic hair tickling his nose as he inhaled deeply.
"This is going to be messy," she warned him with a laugh before releasing a powerful stream of piss into his open mouth. He choked and sputtered but couldn't escape as she relieved herself, the hot liquid filling his mouth to the brim. As she finished, she slapped his head gently, sending droplets of urine flying everywhere.
Satisfied with her own filthiness, Lady Angie turned to me. "Your turn," she commanded. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I could go as far as she did, but the look in her eyes convinced me otherwise. I pulled down my pants and sat on his face, feeling his hot breath against my wet folds. Slowly, I began to pee into his eagerly waiting mouth, savoring the power and control I had over him. I felt the warm sensation spread through my cunt as he dutifully drank every drop, his nose buried deep in my moist womanhood.
As I finished, I rose and zipped up my pants, admiring our handiwork in creating this pathetic creature who served us so willingly. Angie looked down at him, her makeup smeared slightly from the close encounter with his face. She stepped away, leaving a cold trail of urine on the floor as she walked towards the toilet.
She lifted up her flowery skirt, revealing her plump, round ass to the room before sitting down on the toilet seat. A moment later, there was a soft "plop" as a large turd landed in the bowl. She held it up for our inspection, grinning widely. "Now for the best part," she said, her voice raspy with excitement.
She leaned forward, spreading her cheeks wide apart as if daring him to refuse. He lowered his head instinctively, ready to take what was coming. Angie gently pressed her ass cheeks against his face and grunted slightly as he began to lap at her asshole with his tongue. The smell of shit and urine filled the room as he lapped away, cleaning her out thoroughly.
"You missed a spot," she teased, pointing at a clump of feces hanging onto her skin. It was tiny, probably too small for us to see, but to him, it was everything. He worked harder, his face inches from her ass, tongue darting out to scrape every bit of filth off her.
Suddenly, she moaned loudly and let out a loud, wet fart right into his mouth. I watched as he struggled not to gag on the putrid stench, his eyes watering slightly as he swallowed it down. We both laughed heartily at his discomfort before turning away, leaving him there alone with his shame and humiliation.
As I wiped the remaining traces of urine off my panties, I couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. We were truly in control, and our toilet slave was nothing more than a disposable object to us. It was a sad life, but it served its purpose—our entertainment and amusement. And as long as he was there, we would continue to use him for our darkest desires.
