Femdom Austria - Golden Shower 82

Smirni, the human toilet, found himself in a rather unenviable position. His mistress, Madame Carla, had ordered him to kneel in the bathroom all day long, serving as her personal toilet bowl. And not just any toilet bowl—the real thing. She was not one to shy away from her desires or impulses. As hours turned into days, Smirni had grown accustomed to the stench of urine and faeces that surrounded him. He had learned how to position himself perfectly, allowing Madame Carla to relieve herself with ease straight into his mouth. He knew better than to protest or show any sign of disgust; she would only become more spiteful. On this particular day, Madame Carla had an addition to Smirni's list of duties. He was to replace the toilet seat cover in the master bedroom. It turned out to be a simple enough task, though it only served as a brief distraction from his primary function. As Smirni knelt back down in the bathroom, he could feel his heart racing with anticipation. He knew it was only a matter of time before Madame Carla declared her need to urinate again. And when she did, he would be there, ready and waiting to receive her golden nectar. To his delight (or perhaps his misfortune, depending on how you looked at it), Madame Carla soon entered the bathroom. Smirni could hear her heels clicking on the marble floor as she approached. He couldn't help but quiver in anticipation of what was to come. "Prepare yourself, toilet," she purred, her voice echoing through the room. Smirni bowed his head in submission, knowing that resistance would only lead to further humiliation. Without further ado, Madame Carla unzipped her pants and let loose a powerful stream of urine. It hit Smirni square in the face, washing over him like a warm shower. He opened his mouth wide, eager to receive every last drop. The hot, salty liquid trickled down his throat as he closed his eyes, savoring the forbidden sensation. Minute after minute passed, and still, Madame Carla continued to empty her bladder into Smirni's waiting mouth. He could feel her muscles relax, signaling the end was near. At last, she released the final drops, leaving him gasping for air. Smirni remained on his knees, head bowed in humiliation, but also in a perverse sense of satisfaction. He was living out a dark fantasy that most could only dream of. And yet, he couldn't help but wonder when—or if—this twisted game would ever end.