ScatqueensBerlin - Mistress Michelle and the Scat Gag P4

Mistress Michelle, the elegant and imposing dominatrix, was tired of her incompetent toilet slave. Despite his best efforts to keep the lavatories clean, they were always fouled up again. She had tried reasoning with him, but he seemed incapable of understanding the importance of his duties. Now it was time for some serious punishment. The scantily clad slave knelt before Mistress Michelle, his head bowed in submission. His eyes darted nervously between her leather boots and the toilet brush in her hand. With a cruel smile, she began her torment. "First, let's clean up that filthy mouth of yours," she said, spitting onto the bare floor. The slave licked his lips nervously, fearing what was to come. "Now," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "eat my spit like a good little toilet slave." Shivering, the slave lowered his face to the floor and began lapping up the saliva. His tongue tangled with Mistress Michelle's masterful spit, and he felt the warmth of her body against his lips. It was humiliating beyond words, but he knew he deserved it. Next, Mistress Michelle pushed the slave onto all fours and positioned him above the soiled toilet bowl. She unzipped her tight latex outfit, revealing her perfect ass. "Your next task is to worship my divine posterior," she ordered. The slave pressed his face between her cheeks, inhaling the musky scent of her sex. He could feel her poop against his lips, and he opened his mouth, ready to taste her excrement. With one hand holding him in place and the other spreading her ass cheeks, Mistress Michelle began to defecate into his eagerly waiting mouth. The hot, putrid mix of feces and urine filled his mouth, and he gagged on the overwhelming taste. It was the ultimate humiliation, but he couldn't deny the thrill he felt deep inside. As she pulled her ass away, the slave felt a warm, wet substance coat his face. It was her piss, and she laughed as he lapped it up like a hungry dog. Finally, Mistress Michelle removed the slave's leash and pushed him down onto the floor. She retrieved a strange-looking contraption from a nearby table—a contraption that looked like a cross between a breathing mask and a dog collar. "From now on," she said, strapping the device around his neck, "you will always wear this. It will remind you of your place and serve as a constant reminder of your filthy duties." With a satisfied smile, Mistress Michelle strolled out of the dungeon, leaving the humiliated and exhausted toilet slave to contemplate his pathetic existence. His mind raced with thoughts of the next time he would be subjected to her twisted games—and of how he might be able to clean the lavatories better this time around.