As Tiffany continued to fill his mouth with her delicious, steamy shit, she noticed a peculiar look on his face. She stopped and asked him if he was okay. He nodded vigorously, still unable to speak with her foul-tasting load in his mouth. She smiled and pushed on, deciding to give him a bit more before finally allowing him to swallow.
Once she was satisfied that he'd had his fill, she stood up and wiped her ass clean with a tissue before looking down at him. "Now then," she purred, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Time for you to show me what a good toilet slave you really are."
Tiffany knelt down next to him and waited for him to open his mouth. She positioned her rear over his face, her sphincter just inches from his nose. She let out a little puff of embarrassment as the smell of her own feces wafted up to her nostrils. Slowly, she eased herself onto his tongue and down his throat, relishing the feeling of him trying desperately to swallow her thick, warm offering.
She bobbed up and down on his face for a few minutes more, milking every last drop of pleasure from the act before pulling away. "Such a good boy," she cooed. Her gaze trailed down to his trembling form, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of power course through her veins. She straddled him once again and lowered her soiled ass back onto his face. "Drink up, toilet slave," she commanded, her breath hot on his neck.
His nose was filled with the acrid scent of her ass, and yet he couldn't resist the urge to taste her again. He lapped up every drop of her juices, savoring the taste that was both repulsive and oddly addictive. She let out a loud groan of satisfaction, her body vibrating slightly as he licked and sucked on her asshole with an enthusiasm that surprised her.
With a satisfied smirk, Tiffany lifted herself off him and stood up. She tossed him a little tissue for his efforts and said with a wink, "That's a lot to handle, isn't it?"
He couldn't bring himself to respond; instead, he nodded dumbly, still trying desperately to comprehend what had just transpired. Tiffany giggled and reached down to pat him on the head. "Don't worry, toilet slave," she teased. "You can lick my pussy next time."
As she walked away, leaving him lying there in a heap of shame and desire, he couldn't help but wonder what other perverted acts she had in store for him. He knew he was her toilet slave for now, but maybe one day she'd see fit to make him her personal plaything. Until then, he would be grateful for even the smallest crumbs of attention she threw his way.
