Femdom Toilet Slave

“Come. Crawl.”
I crawled after her, feeling the warm, comfortable heaviness of subspace. She stopped by her bed to grab the bottle of lube, then sat on the end of the couch.
“On your back. Head on my lap.””
She squirted lube into my hand.
“You’re going to get yourself off as you drink my piss.”
I spread the lube on my dick and started stroking. She rubbed my forehead with one hand and brought the bottle to my mouth with the other.
“Open.”
I stared up at her.
“You’re being such a good little sub for me, smelling my farts and drinking my piss. I know you want me to push you further, and I want you to know that everything that happens here is our little secret. No one will ever know except you and me.”
She stroked my cheek. Her urine was warm and acrid, but the feeling in my dick was incredible. She pulled the bottle away.
“You look like you want to say something.”
“Will you make me your slave, Mistress? Please!”
“That’s a serious request, Michael, and one I don’t take lightly. We’re not ready for that talk, yet.”
“Sorry.”
“You have promise, but it’s too soon.”
I nodded. She rubbed my chest.
“For now, think about how you can keep pushing yourself for me. What do you secretly want that you’re ashamed of? Keep sucking…good. I want you to imagine your dirtiest fantasy and doing that with me.”
She put the bottle back to my lips. The feeling in my cock spread throughout my body and I looked up into her smiling face. She was so beautiful! I moaned and made crazy noises in my throat. I pictured being back in the toilet box, her ass coming down toward the seat, the feeling of being trapped…My hips bucked as I exploded. I kept my eyes on hers as I pushed the bottle out of my mouth and screamed. Mistress rubbed my face.
“Good boy.”
I was panting when I was finished. Mistress scooted out from under me. She gently lay my head on the coach.
“Wait here.”
I stared up at the ceiling. Holy shit! I asked to be her slave again! What was I doing? Mistress came back with a spoon and scooped up my cum from my stomach and groin.
“Sit up.”
I did. My cum filled up the teaspoon.
“Open.”
She put a hand on the back of my head and brought the spoon to my mouth. I looked at her, and she let me know without speaking that I didn’t have a choice. I opened. Oh God, it was rancid!
“Hold it in your mouth. Open.”
She spit in my mouth.
“Mix it up…good boy…Oh, don’t make such a face! Woman do it all the time.”
“Uggh! Mistress, it’s so gross! Can I have a glass of water, please?”
“No. Get dressed; there’s one more special thing you get to do before you leave.”
I went to the bathroom and washed my face, still wobbly as I came back to reality. This woman was dangerous. I needed to really think about this. When I was dressed, she walked me to the front door, but didn’t open it.
“Whether I can be with someone depends on if they’re truly submissive or just pre-cum submissive. You get the difference, right?”
“I do.”
“I’ve had a lot of guys beg to be my slave, but as soon as they came, they were done, and they’d disappear for a week, until they were horny again. Then, suddenly, they were back, begging to be my slave, sending me a dozen emails about how they want to serve me forever.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I think you’re different, but we’ll see.”
She paused. I wondered how we would see.
“I want you to get down on your knees and put your nose in my asshole. I’m going to fart again, and you’re going to sniff it.”
Our eyes met, and I saw the challenge; I saw that she was hoping that I’d do it but wasn’t sure I would. I wondered how many men had failed this test. I went to my knees. She ran her fingers through my hair, then turned and lifted her skirt. She didn’t pull her panties down. I put my nose close to her asshole and she reached behind her and held my head. We waited in that position for a slow count of five, then she farted. It was another silent one. I breathed in through my nose. It was sharp and bitter, but because I wasn’t trapped with it in a box, it dissipated somewhat quickly. Mistress released my head and I stood.
“Come.”
She spread her arms and I embraced her. As we separated, she ran her hands slowly down my back. She opened her door.
“See you soon, Slutface. Or I guess I should call you Fartface now?
“You’re the boss.”
“I am.”
“See you soon, Mistress.”