MISTRESS ISABELLA - 126.2 Pee before scat

Mistress Isabella's chamber was always impeccably clean, but today there was a lingering aroma that permeated the air. It was a distinct smell of urine, mixed with anticipation and desire. The queen of filth, as she was known, had obviously been preparing for her next act of depravity. Entering the room, the slave's eyes widened in awe at the scene before him. He had been instructed to wait here, kneeling on the cold floor, anxiously wondering what his mistress had in store for him. And now, as he watched Mistress Isabella saunter up to him in all her glorious nakedness, every inch of his body tingled with anticipation. "Good slave," she purred, running her fingers through his hair. "You have done well to obey my orders. Now, I have but one more command for you before the main event." She smiled wickedly, looking down at the innocent slave. "You will worship at my porcelain throne, and cleanse my body of all impurities," she commanded. A glimmer of fear flashed across the slave's face. He knew what that meant. But he also knew that refusal was not an option. So, trembling with fear and excitement in equal measure, he bowed his head and approached the glistening toilet bowl. Mistress Isabella stepped back, watching intently as her slave knelt before her, lowering his face towards her crotch. With a satisfied smirk, she watched as he began to pleasure her, lapping up every drop of her urine like a hungry dog. His tongue flicked and danced over her folds, eager to taste every last drop of her piss. As he worked his way down her legs, cleaning her from feet to thighs, she allowed herself a small laugh. This pathetic creature was truly nothing more than a toilet for her amusement. It did not matter how much he pleaded or tried to resist; he was hers to use as she saw fit. Finally, when he had bathed her in her own waste, Mistress Isabella stood up tall once again. She smiled down at him, her gaze filled with both contempt and lust. "Very well, slave," she said calmly. "Now, prepare yourself. For you are about to receive the motherlode." With those ominous words, she made her way towards the bed. The slave could only watch, his heart pounding in his chest as he wondered what was in store for him. Whatever it was, he knew one thing for sure: it would be filthy, depraved, and completely beyond anything he could ever imagine. And yet, despite the fear and revulsion coursing through his veins, there was an undeniable thrill that coursed through him at the thought of being used in such a way. So, clutching onto these final shreds of anticipation, the slave waited for his mistress to reveal her final, most depraved act.