Miss Dula - Lots of pee to drink with funnel

Miss Dula stood before her new slave, a man who had traveled far to serve her every whim. She knew he had a particular interest in her unique fetish, and she intended to put it to the test. After all, she prized control over her slaves and their desires. "Bend over, slave," she commanded, her voice filled with authority. The man obeyed without question, presenting his ass to Miss Dula. She reached into her collection of toys and emerged with a long, slender funnel. "This is what you'll be using to drink my champagne," she informed him. "It's custom-made for me because I always make sure to fill even the smallest glasses. And you'll be drinking every last drop." Miss Dula took a moment to admire the slave's submission before placing the funnel against his asshole. "I expect nothing less than perfect obedience," she warned, her voice barely above a whisper. "And when you're done, there will be a surprise waiting for you." With that, Miss Dula poured herself a glass of champagne and slowly began to fill the funnel, watching as each drop slid down the narrow tube and into the slave's awaiting mouth. The man worked hard to swallow every drop, his face contorted in concentration as he fought against the urge to gag on the flow of liquid. Miss Dula watched on, her heart racing with anticipation. This was exactly the control she craved; knowing that her slave was totally at her mercy, living out his darkest fantasies under her command. As he neared the bottom of the glass, she moved the funnel closer to the opening, eager to see how he would handle the next serving. The man's stamina impressed Miss Dula; he continued to swallow without hesitation, his body trembling with the effort. She filled the funnel again and again, watching as his cheeks hollowed out and his thighs trembled with each new round of liquid. After several rounds, Miss Dula finally emptied the glass into the funnel, watching as the last drops flowed into her slave's mouth. He whimpered pitiably, his throat working frantically to swallow down the seemingly endless stream of champagne. When he finally looked up at her, his face was flushed and his eyes were filled with tears. "Well done, slave," she praised him, leaning down to lick the remaining drops from his chin. "I can see you've been trained well in the art of subservience." As promised, Miss Dula had a surprise waiting for him. She led him over to a large tub of ice water, telling him to kneel by the edge. "I expect you to cleanse yourself thoroughly," she commanded, pouring a glass of water for him to drink. "Every drop of champagne must be accounted for." The man nodded, knowing there would be consequences if he failed to please his mistress. He dipped his head into the ice water, gasping as the cold liquid filled his mouth and trickled down his throat. Then he began to scrub his body clean, every inch of his skin tingling from the cool water. As Miss Dula watched, she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her control over this man. She knew he would do anything she asked, and she intended to take full advantage of that devotion. For now, she sat back and watched as her slave devoted himself to making sure he was spotless once again.