EROnight by Eronite - Rewarded with piss

Michael found himself in familiar surroundings, bound tightly to the St Andrews cross. His body ached from the lashings he had endured earlier, the welts standing out starkly on his bare skin. He shivered, his eyes fixed on the figure of his mistress, Lady Annika. She stood before him, her expression one of frustration. "You disappoint me, slave," she spat. It was clear that Michael had failed to live up to her expectations once again. She paced around him, running her critical gaze over his body. A low growl escaped her lips as she reached out and gripped the edge of his leather collar. "You're nothing but a pathetic excuse for a slave," she sneered, yanking him backward by the collar so his face was level with her crotch. Michael whimpered, his mouth watering in anticipation of what was to come. He could feel the heat emanating from her crotch, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. He eagerly pressed his lips against her labia, teasing her folds with his tongue. She hissed in pleasure, her hips thrusting forward as she ground against his face. Once she was fully aroused, Lady Annika stepped back. Her next command sent shivers of both fear and excitement through Michael's body. "Beg for your reward, slave," she demanded, gesturing towards an ornate golden chalice sitting on a nearby table. On shaky knees, Michael crawled towards the chalice. He clasped his hands together, pleading with his mistress. "Please, my lady," he whispered hoarsely. "Allow me to taste your golden nectar." Lady Annika watched him with a cruel smile curling her lips. Slowly, she poured the contents of the chalice over his head, soaking his hair and neck in her warm urine. Michael groaned in delight, his tongue darting out to catch a few drops of her piss. He lapped up the sweet liquid, savoring every drop. Finally, satisfied that he had pleasured her enough, Lady Annika ordered him to his feet. She lifted her skirts, revealing a wet, glistening patch at the crotch of her thong. Michael's eyes widened in anticipation as she commanded him to taste her piss-soaked crotch. Obediently, he lowered his head and pressed his tongue against the damp fabric. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, and the tangy taste of her piss on his tongue. Lady Annika's hand settled on the back of his head, gently guiding him as he licked and sucked at her moist folds. As he tenderly cleansed her with his tongue, Michael felt a sense of contentment wash over him. This was his place; his purpose. To please his mistress, to taste her urine, to feel her anger and her pleasure. And he wouldn't have it any other way.