Scat-Girls - Shit from Furniture Part4

In the lavish living room of the mansion, five stunning women lounged on plush sofas and chatted, sipping exotic cocktails. Their high heels clicked against the hardwood floor as they shifted their weight, revealing glimpses of their lingerie-clad bodies. The centerpiece of their gathering was the helpless toilet slave who knelt before them, his eyes locked onto the scat-covered floor. One of the women, a striking brunette with seductive green eyes, leaned forward and whispered something in the ear of another. The second woman, a blonde with a mischievous grin, nodded in agreement before turning her attention to the trembling slave. She stood and approached him, her high heels clicking on the hardwood floor in sync with his rapidly beating heart. "Now then, slave," she purred, her voice dripping with amusement, "it seems you've been such an obedient toilet that we've decided to reward you." She paused, her finger tracing circles around her full lips before using it to beckon him closer. Reluctantly, the slave inched forward until he was within inches of her mouth. Without warning, she stooped down and grabbed his head, forcing his face into her crotch. He tried to resist but was powerless against her strength. She grinned as she felt him trying to struggle free, then slowly started lowering him towards the floor. "Open wide, toilet boy," she commanded, chuckling as she pushed his head down towards the waiting pile of shit. The slave's eyes widened in horror as he realized what was about to happen. But it was too late. As his mouth touched the warm, squishy mass of excrement, the brunette let out a moan of excitement. She leaned in close, her breath hot against his cheek as she whispered, "Swallow it all, you filthy toilet." Gagging and coughing, the slave did as he was told, forcing the repulsive mixture down his throat. He could feel the warmth spreading through his body as the women watched, their hands resting on their hips, their faces twisted into expressions of twisted pleasure. As his stomach threatened to revolt, the brunette clapped her hands together, signaling the end of the 'reward'. The women laughed in unison and once again took their seats on the sofas, sipping their drinks and watching as the slave struggled to his knees, his face smeared with their waste. "You entertain us well, slave," said the redhead, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Maybe we'll keep you around for a while longer." The slave could only whimper in response, a thick layer of feces coating his tongue as he struggled to keep from vomiting. As the women continued their conversation, ignoring the suffering of the pathetic toilet slave at their feet, he couldn't help but wonder how much longer he could endure this humiliation. But then again, after all they'd done to him, there was nowhere else he could go. He was their toilet, their plaything, and he would be at their mercy until they decided otherwise.