Lady Christina, a stunning and dominant mistress, stood over her slave, Malcolm, who was on all fours and dressed in nothing but a dog collar and a leash. Her long legs adorned in a pair of silk stockings and stiletto heels, she held a glass of her own urine in one hand. With the other, she reached down and grabbed Malcolm's chin brutally, forcing his mouth open. Her cold urine trickled down his throat as she leered into his eyes, watching him gag on the bitter liquid.
She then pulled her name from his lips, her voice filled with disdain, "Lady Chrissy is so much better than Lady Christina," She snarled before stepping away from him, the glass still filled with her golden nectar. The smell of her piss filled the air as she walked away, her hips swaying dramatically from side to side.
Malcolm found himself kneeling on the cold tile floor, his head spinning from both the smell and taste of his mistress's urine still lingering in his mouth. He looked up to see Lady Christina approaching him with a smirk on her lips. She stopped beside a plastic toilet that was lying on its side and kicked it over, revealing a large puddle of her urine.
"It looks like you want more, you dirty little piece of trash," She chuckled, her voice dripping with amusement. Lady Christina then lifted her leg high into the air and aimed for the center of the pool of urine. With one powerful stream, she pissed directly onto Malcolm's face, the warm liquid splashing against his skin and running down his cheeks.
"Swallow it," She commanded, her voice stern. Without hesitation, Malcolm opened his mouth and let the pungent liquid pour into his throat once more. After he finished swallowing, she kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him lying down in the puddle of her urine.
"Now lick up every last drop," She commanded again. Malcolm obliged, using his tongue to lap up the remaining drops of her pee off the floor. He could feel her gaze on him as he worked, her eyes watching his every move. Once he was done, he looked up at her expectantly.
"There's more," She said, a sneer forming on her perfect, red lips. "Lick the floor clean. Every inch of it."
Malcolm began to crawl dutifully across the floor, his tongue out like a snake as he cleaned the cold tiles with long, considering strokes. He knew better than to make any noise or show any sign of displeasure. As he reached the end of the pool of urine, he found himself staring up at a small caked-on clump of feces that Lady Christina must have left behind.
"Don't forget this," She said coldly, kicking it towards him. Malcolm hesitated for only a moment before bending down and placing the filth in his mouth. He tried to swallow it, gagging as it slid down his throat, feeling the warm, gross mass slide against his tongue and teeth.
"Good boy," She purred, seemingly satisfied. She reached down and grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back so she could spit on his face. The saliva landed with a wet plopping sound on his cheek, mingling with her urine and his own saliva.
After one last disgusting task, Lady Christina finally gave him a break. "You may stand now," She said, her voice dripping with contempt. Malcolm struggled to his feet, feeling the weight of his body as he stood before her once again. His clothes were soaked with sweat and piss, not that it mattered anymore. All that mattered was Lady Christina's approval.
Without a word, she turned and began to walk away, her heels click-clacking against the hard floor. As he watched her leave, Malcolm knew this was just the beginning. He was nothing but her piece of trash, and she would use him however she pleased.
