Chinese Scat Love - Goddess Took Off Sexy Panty and Pissed a Lot onto the Human Toilets Face while He Is Busy Rubbing H

After what seemed like an eternity, the goddess finally relieved herself onto the human toilet's face. Her steady stream of golden urine hit his face with such force that he could feel it against his skin. The scent of her warm piss filled the tight space around them. As he lay there, his face buried in her scent and staring at her sexy messy panties, he couldn't help but feel humiliated and aroused at the same time. His own small, pathetic hard-on was still pressed against the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, completely ignored by his mistress. "Ooh, that feels so good," she cooed as she continued to empty her bladder onto his face, unaware or unconcerned about his presence. "I needed this after such a long day." Her words only served to fuel his arousal further. He wished he could touch himself, but he knew better than to disobey her command. All he could do was watch as she finished her piss stream and stepped out of the bathtub, her panties still damp with her piss. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the toilet seat, her perfect round ass hovering above him. He yearned to reach up and touch it, to feel its softness against his fingertips. But he remained still, his gaze fixed on her perfect form. "Look at me," she commanded, her voice taking on a commanding tone. "Tell me how beautiful I am." He couldn't help but obey. "You are the most beautiful goddess in the world," he whispered, his heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come next. "Good boy," she purred, smiling down at him. "Now, get to work. You have a task to complete." Unsure of what this task might be, he hesitantly reached out and ran his fingers through her wet panties, gently spreading her labia apart to expose her pearl-covered inner folds. His tongue darted out, tasting her sweet nectar as it mixed with the remnants of her piss. He knew this was the only way he would please her. As he worked, his mind wandered back to the moment when she had stepped out of the bathtub, her perfect ass hovering above him, taunting him with its softness. He closed his eyes and focused on her scent, the taste of her on his tongue, the feeling of her wetness against his face. He knew he was her toilet, but in this moment, he didn't care. He was hers, completely and utterly. Hours passed, or so it seemed to him. He lost track of time, lost in the sensations and the submission. Finally, she leaned forward, her eyes narrowed in pleasure. "Very good, toilet boy," she whispered, her breath hot against his ears. "Now, take your puny little cock and rub it against my pearls." Without hesitation, he lowered his face further into her panties, his nose tickled by the soft, downy hairs of her mound. He pressed his small, hard-on against her slick folds, grimacing slightly as he probed deeper, searching for her pearl-covered inner folds that he knew would bring him the slightest bit of pleasure. He continued this unspoken dance for what felt like hours, his entire being focused on pleasing his mistress, his goddess. And when at last she rose from her throne, her perfect ass still monolithic and unattainable to him, he fell back against the cold tiles, spent and drained. She turned and looked down at him, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Rest now, toilet boy," she murmured softly. "Tomorrow you'll have more work to do." And with that, she disappeared, leaving him alone in the bathroom, his mind filled with images of her perfect ass and the taste of her sweet nectar. He knew this was his life now, his purpose. He was her toilet, and he would do whatever it took to please her...