ScatqueensBerlin - Marie at Morning P2

Lady Marie was in a playful mood this morning as she casually reclined on her plush sofa, one leg naughtily crossed over the other, a cigarette dangling between her crimson-painted lips. Her blonde hair flowed down her back in loose waves, adding an air of sophistication to her otherwise sinful demeanor. She looked down at her faithful toilet slave who knelt before her, his eyes transfixed on her formidable presence. It had been a long night for both of them, and she had thoroughly trained her slave in the art of toilet worship. His tongue was sore and sticky from licking her clean after every round of defecation and urination, but she knew he would obey without question. The smell of shit and piss filled the room, but that only seemed to heighten Lady Marie's arousal. Lady Marie took a long drag from her cigarette before blowing the smoke directly into her slave's face. He coughed and sputtered as she laughed lightly, amused by his discomfort. She stubbed out the cigarette on the back of his neck, leaving a burn mark that would serve as a reminder of who truly owned him. "You disgusting little creature," she purred, her voice laced with venom. "I can't believe I allow someone like you to exist, let alone call yourself my toilet slave." She let out a sigh, her disapproval evident in the sharp tug of her suddenly furrowed brow. Raising her arm slowly, she aimed her pussy towards him. "Show me that you're worth keeping," she commanded, her tone suddenly softer but no less stern. The slave knew what he had to do; he opened his mouth wide and ready to receive her offering. Lady Marie obliged him by standing up and straddling his face, allowing her juices to drip freely onto his tongue. She grinded her hips against his face, her moans echoing around the room as she reached her climax. Satisfied for now, Lady Marie stepped back, leaving behind a sticky mess on her slave's face and neck. She let out a contented sigh as she watched him struggle to clean himself up. It pleased her to know that she could reduce him to such a pathetic state at any given moment. "Now, get to work," she snapped, her voice harsh once again. "The pigsty you call home is calling out for some attention." With a flick of her wrist, she pushed him towards the door, leaving the dirty smell of their activities hanging heavy in the air. The slave, exhausted but obedient, stumbled forward into the hallway, knowing better than to question his mistress. As he turned around and caught one last glimpse of her, he saw the glint of amusement in her eyes, confident that she would soon be back for more.