Hiroto carefully bowed to his Mistress, ensuring he properly worshipped even her toes. He wasn’t permitted to directly gaze at the other mistresses in the room, as doing so would seal his fate as a piss slave. The mistress commanded him to lie on the floor and wear the filthy, cut piss bottle in his mouth. His aging teeth gripped the gnarled bottle as he awaited his destiny. One of the younger mistresses announced that her bladder was nearly ready to burst. She smiled and squatted over Hiroto’s bottle, adding pressure so the plastic would dig into his mouth. Hiroto smelled the thick, potent stream of piss before he could see it – a salty flood that threatened to choke him. The mistress reveled in his discomfort, chuckling as she took her time before standing up. Aya the Cruel, Hiroto’s owner, pulled him up by his leash and ordered him to thank the other mistresses. Hiroto swallowed the remaining taste in his mouth, tasting the saltiness even in his throat. He pathetically bowed, displaying the humiliating message inscribed on his back. He would soon return to his toilet duties.