In the third installment of the Toilet Slaves Scatology series, the two dominant mistresses continued their play with their submissive male slave. After the first mistress finished pissing into the toilet bowl, the second mistress squatted down, her plush derrière hovering over the slave's face, and began to release a torrent of golden nectar from her own channel. Her hot, steaming piss cascaded onto his open mouth, drenching his face and filling him with her unmistakable scent. The slave, already overcome with the taste and smell of urine, couldn't help but wince at the intensity of his mistresses' piss.
As the second mistress finished, she stood back up and looked down at her toilet slave. The man, who just moments before had been considered untouchable, now resembled a drowning man trapped in a sea of his own filth. Both mistresses stood looking over him, watching as he struggled to breathe through the overwhelming stench of their combined waste. One mistress chuckled as she reached down, plucking a wad of toilet paper from the mess on the floor and wiping it across his face, exposing even more of his helplessness to the tangy odor.
With grim satisfaction, they ordered him to clean up the floor himself. Using only his tongue, the slave began to lap at the floor like a dog, tasting every last drop of their piss. He gagged and retched as he encountered clumps of their feces mixed in with the puddle of urine but knew better than to defy his mistresses' orders. As he cleaned, they watched, their delight evident in their cold and calculating eyes.
Finally, the slave had finished his task and presented himself to his mistresses, his body aching and his mind reeling from the assault on his senses. The two dominant women looked at each other before deciding on their next course of action. One reached down and smeared a finger through the leftover puddle on the floor, then next to the toilet bowl, before bringing it back up to the slave's mouth. He opened his mouth obediently, ready to taste whatever disgusting concoction they had dreamt up next.
With a devilish grin, the mistress guided his finger into his mouth, making him lick off the mixture of piss, feces, and toilet paper residue from the floor. As he completed this final task with a revulsion-filled gulp, he couldn't help but wonder what new humiliations his mistresses had in store for him. Would they make him eat their shit next? The thought both terrified and aroused him in equal measure.
The two mistresses exchanged smirks, their satisfaction clear as they left the room, leaving their toilet slave alone to ponder his fate. As he sat there amidst the stench, the taste of their waste still lingering on his tongue, he couldn't help but feel like the lowest form of life—a creature worthy only of their vilest desires. But he knew there was no escape from his bondage; he had chosen this life long ago, and he would endure their perversions until they saw fit to release him... or until he reached his final destiny, whichever came first.
