Miss Dula - Ill feed it with my fingers

Miss Dula, the exquisite beauty with eyes as captivating as the stars above, gazed down at her slave with an aura of control and dominance. As she approached, her slave trembled in anticipation of what was to come. He knew what his place was - to serve as her personal toilet, her human disposal for all her excremental needs. She was adorned in the most elegant gold lamé dress, accentuating her curves and silhouette, and when she spoke, it dripped with authority. "Are you ready, my little toy?" Her words were like sweet poison, both enticing and degrading at the same time. The slave squirmed under her gaze but managed to nod in submission. Miss Dula took a seat on her golden throne and motioned for him to approach. Her scent filled the air, a heady blend of jasmine and lilac, making it almost impossible for him to resist her pull. As kneeled before her, his heart raced as he awaited her command. And then she spoke, her voice like velvet on his ears. "It's time to feed your insatiable appetite for my caviar. But first, I want you to cleanse your palate, so to speak." She leaned down, her breasts mere inches from his face, and whispered in his ear. "I know how much you love the taste of your own filth, so go on, taste it. It will only make the caviar taste better." With a soft smile playing on her lips, Miss Dula watched as the slave hesitated before bending down and extending his tongue to taste the fresh shit on her throne. She laughed softly, the sound like the tinkling of glass against crystal, as he lapped at the creamy mounds, his tongue darting in and out of her mess. Satisfied with his eagerness, Miss Dula moved on to the main event. Slowly, she removed a gold-plated tray from beside her, holding it out of reach for a moment to further engage her slave's curiosity. On the tray were several golden spoons, each holding a dollop of her caviar - her precious feces. "Now, my little toy," she purred, moving the tray closer so he could reach it. "It is time for you to feast on my masterpiece." She took one of the spoons and brought it up to his lips, letting a small mound of caviar rest on his fleshy lips. "Go on, taste it. It is the finest caviar you will ever have the pleasure of experiencing." Her words were like a mantra repeating in his head as he opened his mouth and allowed the first mouthful to pass between his lips. The caviar was warm and salty, with an unusual sweetness that contrasted with the bitter taste of his own waste. But despite the unfamiliar flavors, he couldn't help but savor every bite. Miss Dula watched with cat-like eyes as her slave devoured her creation, taking pleasure in the sight of him sucking on the golden spoon with reckless abandon. It was no wonder he was her favorite toy; he never failed to please her. Finally, after he had eaten his fill, she reached down and removed the glass of champagne from beside her, taking a sip before offering it to him. "To a perfect creation," she toasted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "And to many more meals to come." Her slave nodded in agreement, his heart filled with a twisted mixture of shame and elation. For even though he knew what he was doing was degrading and disgusting, there was no denying the fact that he loved every moment spent in Miss Dula's presence.