To feel the waiting toilet mouth beneath you, to experience its hot, stuttering breath, is a true pleasure. As he hesitates, perhaps even trembles with anticipation of the inevitable, you relax and release streams of waste and urine into his mouth, onto his face. The view from above is exhilarating, a powerful surge of energy and strength.
Fist and foot: the joys of a slave’s ass. The satisfaction of stretching a slave’s anus to its limits, so that your hand and foot can penetrate him with ease, eliciting moans of pleasure. And in the morning, nothing beats pissing in his mouth, allowing him to drink, to swallow your potent, fragrant urine. At least this compensation makes bearing a slave husband worthwhile, providing such small pleasures at any time.
My shit tastes like Kakafruits. Behold this mound of feces. This wretch refuses to consume it. I had to defecate so badly, I deposited a massive pile in his mouth, and he turns his nose up at it. Eat, you cur, eat. Swallow it down. Tell me, what does my excrement taste like? Speak up. What are you mumbling about? Kakafruits, you say? Do you even know what Kakafruits are? But my future husband-toilet does. I insert my fingers into that soft, watery diarrhea in his mouth. I shall transform him into a true shit-eater yet. Lick my ass, clean it, lick it all clean, you filthy creature.