Toilet Slave's Punishing Morning
Leah awoke with a foul taste in her mouth and a severe case of stomach cramps. She knew exactly what was causing it, and she hated it when her body betrayed her in such a disgusting way. Quickly, she made her way to the bathroom, her slave dutifully following behind her. Once inside, she locked the door and turned to face him.
"You're lucky I let you clean me up this time," she said, her voice harsh and unyielding. She could feel the pressure building up within her, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she unleashed the foulest of farts.
The slave, a young man who had been with her for years, knelt before her on the cold tile floor, his eyes fixed on her with an expression of fear and adoration. He knew what was coming, just as she did, and he braced himself for the impending assault on his senses.
Leah positioned herself on the toilet seat, her ass pointing directly at him. She gripped the handrails on either side of the toilet, ready to steady herself when the urge to expel her foul burden became too strong. She let out a long, slow breath through her nose as she prepared herself for what was about to come.
With a sudden force, Leah expelled a wet, juicy fart that echoed through the small bathroom. The stench was thick and cloying, making the air seem heavier as it hung in the air. The slave, his face contorted in disgust and pleasure, inhaled deeply, taking in every last bit of her foul gas.
Leah's body relaxed a little as she felt the weight of her burden lifted. She looked down at the slave, who was now on his hands and knees, and she saw that he was panting heavily. She reached down and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him closer until his face was just inches from her ass.
"You like that, don't you?" she purred, her voice low and threatening. The slave nodded, his eyes never leaving her ass. "Well, get ready for more," she warned him, her fingers teasing the hem of her panties.
And with that, Leah began to fart again, this time in short, sharp bursts that made the slave flinch with each new assault on his senses. She varied her technique, sometimes aiming straight into his mouth, other times farting right into his face so that he could taste every last bit of her putrid gas.
The slave was choking now, his body struggling to process the overwhelming stench and the strange, arousing sensations that coursed through him. He knew he was in trouble, that this was punishment for some transgression he couldn't even remember now. All he could do was endure, and hope that she would eventually be finished with him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity to the slave, Leah finished her assault. She stood up, her legs trembling from the exertion, and wiped her ass with a soft, perfumed wipe. Then, with a cruel smile, she held out the toilet paper for the slave to take.
"Clean it up," she commanded, her voice laced with contempt. The slave took the toilet paper from her, his fingers trembling as he touched it. He knew what was coming next, and he braced himself for it, just as he always did.
With a final, spiteful look at Leah, the slave took the toilet paper into his mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste the last remnants of her farts. And as he swallowed, he vowed that he would endure anything she threw at him, because he was her toilet slave, and that was his destiny.
