ScatqueensBerlin - Lady Missy - Garden Toilet Day2 P1

Lady Missy and her friend woke up to the refreshing scent of the garden surrounding their temporary abode. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow on the faces of the two ladies that shared the garden house. The morning air was crisp and cool, invigorating their senses and making them ready for a new day of indulgence.

The night before, Lady Missy had kept her toilet slave busy, using him as both a human toilet and a living source of pleasure. The poor man had struggled to please both ladies, but his reward was the satisfaction of knowing that he was serving his purpose as their personal toilet. Now, as the morning light filtered in through the windows, Lady Missy's eyes fell upon her loyal slave, still lying on the floor next to her bed. His exhausted expression hinted at the long night he had endured, but he remained diligent, ever ready to serve his Mistress's every need.

The first order of business for Lady Missy was to relieve herself of the urine that had built up over the night. She did not hesitate to make use of her toilet slave once more, straddling him and lowering his mouth to her crotch. Without mercy, she began to pee directly into his open mouth, taking pleasure in the wet, warm sensation that filled his tongue and throat. As she emptied her bladder, her thighs squeezed tightly around his head, forcing him to drink every drop of her golden nectar.

Finally satisfied with her toilet slave's efforts, Lady Missy stood up, smoothing out her flowing nightgown. She turned to her friend, who was already dressed and ready for the day. "Now, let's indulge in a cigarette and some coffee before I have to take care of our little friend here," she said, taking a drag from her cigarette and exhaling the smoke lazily. The scent of tobacco mingled with the sweet aroma of freshly-brewed coffee, creating a heady mix that made the air thick with decadence.

Taking her friend's cup of coffee and the ashtray, Lady Missy settled herself on a comfortable chair in the garden, motioning for her toilet slave to join her. He crawled over, his movements slow and tired, but he managed to position himself at her feet. Lady Missy patted his head gently, her eyes lit up with mischief as she pulled out a cigarette from behind her ear and lit it.She took a long drag, savoring the rush of nicotine, before blowing a long stream of smoke directly into the slave's face. His eyes watered, but he remained still, waiting for his next command.

Lady Missy leaned down, her hot breath tickling his ear, "I see you're still very much awake, my little toilet," she purred. "Well, you have another task to perform before you can rest. I need you to prepare yourself for what I'm about to give you." She grinned wickedly, taking another drag of her cigarette.

As Lady Missy spoke, her friend sat nearby, sipping her coffee and watching with detached interest. She was no stranger to the darker side of human nature, having indulged in many of life's pleasures before. But even for her, the sight of Lady Missy using her toilet slave as she did was both fascinating and disturbing.

Finally, Lady Missy finished her cigarette and stood up, towering over the trembling slave. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air, and then let out a loud, long fart. The stench was overpowering, even to her own nostrils, but she reveled in the knowledge that it was emanating from her own body.

Without ceremony, she lowered her pajama bottoms and squatted over the slave's face, releasing a hot, steamy stream of shit straight into his waiting mouth. The slave struggled to breathe, his nostrils filled with the foul odor and taste of his mistress's feces. But he knew better than to resist; it was his duty to obey without question.

After a few moments, Lady Missy sat back on her heels, pleased with her work. Her friend clapped appreciatively, the sound echoing through the stillness of the garden. "Well done, my dear," she said, raising her coffee cup in a toast. "Your toilet slave has been well-trained."

Lady Missy grinned, her eyes shining with delight. "Thank you," she replied, straightening her nightgown. "Now, I believe it's time for a bath. We wouldn't want this charming specimen to get too comfortable in our presence, would we?" She laughed heartily, and without waiting for a response, she bent down and scooped up the trembling slave, carrying him off to whatever depraved activity she had planned next.

As the sound of their laughter faded into the distance, the scent of shit and tobacco lingered in the air, a reminder of the dark desires that lurked just beneath the surface of even the most respectable facade.

For toilet slaves like him, however, there was no escape from the harsh realities of their existence. Their only refuge lay in the cold embrace of the grave, and even then, they would find themselves in the service of new Masters, forever destined to live and die as living toilets for those who walked the path of depravity and perversion.