Gabi sat on her throne, dressed in all red from head to toe. The long, voluminous dress hugged her body before pooling around her feet, making her appear even more regal. A small smile curved her lips as she looked down at the naked man kneeling before her, his eyes locked on her overflowing bowels. She was one of the scat-princesses, using her slaves in ways that most would deem taboo. But for her, it was a way of life.
The slave's eyes widened as he watched in awe as she began to defecate. He knew what was coming and there was no escaping it. As the first turd slid out of her anus, it landed with a soft plop on his chest. Without hesitation, she continued to take dump after dump onto his body, her eyes filled with lust as she took in the sight of her fecal masterpiece covering him from head to toe.
Her hands gripped the fabric of her dress, her knuckles white from the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her veins. She could feel every ounce of shit that left her body, and there was a certain power in that. Power over the slave who worshipped her in such a humiliating manner.
Suddenly, the slave felt something hot and liquid dripping onto his skin. He knew what it was and he couldn't contain his mouth from forming a silent 'o'. It was her piss, stream after stream landing on him like a rainfall. She didn't stop until she was satisfied, the flow finally dwindling to a trickle.
"Now," she purred, her voice sending shivers down the slave's spine. She leaned forward, her breasts almost spilling out of her dress as she reached down and scooped up some of the mess that covered him. Without warning, she thrust her hand into the slave's mouth, forcing him to take a mouthful of her feces.
His tongue struggled against the weight of the turd in his mouth, but he couldn't disobey. She watched with pleasure as he struggled, her other hand moving to stroke herself through her dress. The sensation of having her own waste in his mouth was too much for her to resist, and with a moan, she came, her orgasm washing over him like a wave.
Finally, she pulled her hand away from his mouth, leaving a trail of shit behind. The slave looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of love and desperation. He could barely form the words, but it didn't matter. She knew what he was thinking, and she smiled, reaching down to pat him on the head.
"Good boy," she said, her voice sinister yet oddly comforting. "Now, clean yourself up and be ready for me when I call for you again." And with that, she stood up, her long train flowing behind her like a scarlet wave, leaving the slave alone with his thoughts and his mess.
