Femdom Austria - Golden Shower 84

Bathroom slave: eat soap, spat on with toothpaste and pissed on! Madame Carla demolishes her slave Smirni again quite nicely. Tied to the radiator in the bathroom, he kneels pitifully, holding the soap in his mouth. Again and again Madame Carla spits him full of toothpaste while brushing his teeth. Finally, she also empties her bladder on her humiliation object, leaving him with all the sauce on the floor.

The scene before the bathroom mirror was a picture of complete domination and submission. Slave Smirni's eyes were locked onto Madame Carla's every move, his heart racing with fear and excitement. She stood over him, towering in her black leather boots that clicked menacingly against the tiled floor. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as she reached down and roughly gripped the collar around his neck, pulling him closer to her leather-clad crotch. "You are Mine," she growled, her voice deep and commanding, "and I will do with you as I please."

With a sneer of contempt, Madame Carla bent down and tearing off another chunk of soap from the block, she held it under Smirni's nose. "Open wide," she commanded, "it's time to taste your medicine." He opened his mouth obediently, his tongue darting out nervously as he waited for her next move. With a sudden thrust, she shoved the soap into his mouth, forcing him to gag around it. Then, one by one, she pulled out a tube of toothpaste and began spitting the white goo directly into his gaping mouth.

Each glob of toothpaste felt like a hot, pungent slap against Smirni's tongue and cheeks. His eyes watered and he gagged but somehow managed to keep the toothpaste from spilling out from around the soap. He didn't dare make a sound - Madame Carla's punishments were swift and severe, and he knew better than to anger her further. She was like a cunning angel of vengeance, her sadistic pleasures making him writhe in both pain and pleasure.

After what felt like an eternity but was only a few minutes, Madame Carla finally stepped back, her hands on her hips as she surveyed her work. Smirni kneeled there, head bowed, cock throbbing between his legs, waiting for his next command. Without warning, she unzipped her black leather skirt and pushed it down, revealing her perfect ass clad in black lace panties. "Kiss it," she commanded, placing one knee firmly on the bathroom floor. "Show your appreciation for your Mistress's power."

Smirni lowered his head obediently and pressed his lips against the soft, supple cheek of her ass. He could feel her heat against his face, the gentle swaying of her hips teasing him. He wanted nothing more than to pleasure her in some way, but he knew better than to ask. That would be a step too far... for now.

Then, with a sound of disgust, Madame Carla shook her head. "You are such a pathetic excuse for a cocksucker," she sneered, pulling her panties down to reveal her perfect, pink puckered asshole. "Crawl to the toilet and lick me clean." Her voice held a note of amusement, as if she were toying with him like a cat with a mouse. Smirni shuddered at the thought of what she might do if he disobeyed, but there was no other choice. He crawled across the cold tile floor, tongue ready for her piercing gaze.

Madame Carla turned her back on him as he approached, presenting the perfect target for his tongue. Smirni lashed out, lapping at her asshole eagerly, his leash nearly choking him as he searched for any sign of approval from his Mistress. She remained stern and unmoving, her spearmint-scented breath tickling the back of his neck. He redoubled his efforts, pushing his tongue deeper into her tight anus, tasting the salty mixture of sweat and arousal that coated her skin.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Madame Carla lifted her ass off the floor and sat down on the toilet. Slowly, she lowered her head and looked down at the pathetic creature crawling at her feet. She could see the beginnings of fear in his eyes, the realization that he had gone too far this time. With a sneer, she reached down and unzipped her fly, revealing her throbbing, engorged clitoris. "Now, finish me off, slave," she commanded. "Make me cum with your tongue."

Smirni knew this was a dangerous game he was playing, but he also knew that disobedience would be met with swift and brutal punishment. He crawled forward, tongue outstretched, and licked at the pearl-colored head of her clitoris. The taste of her arousal was intoxicating, and he swirled his tongue around it, massaging the tender flesh. As he did so, he could feel her body start to shake, the telltale signs of an impending orgasm washing over her. His heart raced with excitement and fear - there was no telling what she might do to him once she had climaxed.

Just as he thought he could take no more, Madame Carla cried out, her body arching in ecstasy. Waves of pleasure washed over her, making her tremble with each passing second. Smirni continued to lick and suck on her clit, drawing out every last drop of pleasure from her body. When she finally came down from her high, she reached down and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. "That's enough, you little pervert," she growled, her breath hot against his ear. "Time to clean up the mess you've made."

With that, Madame Carla pulled him up to his feet and pushed him towards the shower. "Get in there and wash yourself," she commanded, her voice still laced with menace. "And don't even think about touching yourself until I've given you permission." Smirni nodded obediently, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew what was coming next, and he couldn't wait to feel the hot, pissing cock on his face or the sweet taste of ammonia in his mouth. He was hers, body and soul, and there was no escaping that fact. She was his Mistress, and he would do anything to please her - no matter how degrading or humiliating the task might be.

As he stepped into the shower, he could hear the sound of her piss hitting the floor. She stood over him, naked and unashamed, relieving herself onto the bathroom tiles. "Drink it up, slave," she commanded, her voice full of dark amusement. "Let it cleanse your soul." Smirni dropped to his knees, opened his mouth wide, and tilted his head back, opening his throat as well. Madame Carla's hot piss cascaded down his throat, filling him up with her waste and her power. It was the most exquisite feeling he had ever known, and he welcomed it with open arms - or rather, an open throat.

When she was finally finished, she stepped back and surveyed her work. Smirni knelt there, panting heavily, his cock throbbing in anticipation. Against the wall, he could see the marks of their encounter - the toothpaste splatters, the soap scum, and the puddles of piss. They were both covered in their own filth, but somehow it made them feel more alive than ever before. Madame Carla reached down and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him up to his feet. "Clean up the mess," she commanded, her voice cold and harsh. "And remember - you are Mine."

Smirni nodded meekly, his heart pounding in his chest. He grabbed the soap and started scrubbing the floor, careful not to miss a single drop of piss. As he worked, he couldn't help but wonder what was next on Madame Carla's twisted agenda. But then again, he didn't really want to know. He had learned long ago that ignorance was sometimes the greatest bliss - especially when it came to serving his Mistress.

With a sigh of contentment, he finished cleaning up the bathroom and stood back to admire his work. The tiles shone brilliantly in the mirror, reflecting the harsh light above. Madame Carla walked over and inspected his handiwork, nodding her head in approval. "Not bad, slave," she said, her voice softening just a bit. "But remember - you always have to earn your place at my feet." She turned on her heel and walked out of the bathroom, leaving Smirni alone to ponder her words and steel himself for whatever was next.

Night fell outside, and still Smirni waited. He could hear the soft sounds of the city beyond the window, but inside it was dead silent. The anticipation was killing him, but he knew better than to rush her. Madame Carla would come when she was ready, and he would be there to greet her with open arms - or rather, an open mouth.

The End