The bitch was pleased - laid out flat on the floor, his flushed cock up against his belly, his mouth just below Sir's hole not a foot away. The bitch was pleased his Sir was pleased.
And Sir was very pleased, feeling a satisfied, deserving sense of domination as he sat on the black plastic toilet seat he called the throne, with his open ass just above his salivating bitch.
"Lick it, Bitch," said Sir. "Lick my whole ass."
The bitch's tongue began first on the cheeks, moving towards the centre, lap by lap, until he could begin an exploration of his Sir's pussy. Though he'd never call it that.
"Push through my hole, Bitch," demanded Sir, "I want to feel your tongue inside me."
Oh, the bitch wanted to be there, to taste the ass, the hole, the cunt. He wanted to hear his Sir moan. He wanted to be praised.
"Yeah, Bitch, that's good. Get in deep, play around in there, mmm, yeah. Fuck, yeah."
Minutes later, Sir stood, grabbed the bitch by his neck and spat in his face. "You're a filthy faggot, aren't you?
"Aren't you?"
"Yes, Sir -- your filthy faggot."
Sir was pleased.
Sir probed his bitch's mouth with his tongue. It seemed the right thing to do, mixing domination with love after the bitch devoured his ass, ate his hole good.
"I have more for you, Bitch. On your knees in the shower."
Oh, the bitch was going to get more, every fluid his Sir could give his filthy faggot.
Sir stepped over the bitch's face and reached down to spread his mouth open, to ensure that every drop of his piss went into the intended target. First a dribble, then a stream.
"Don't swallow," he instructed. "Hold it in your mouth."
Piss filled the bitch's mouth to the brim, a small pool of pale yellow. When done, Sir leaned over, reminded him again not to swallow, and then slowly pursed his lips, looked deep into the bitch's eyes and spat directly into his mouth.
The bitch expected that. But not what came next.
Sir reached over and unscrewed a small plastic bottle. "A surprise for you, Bitch. You get all my fluids."
He tilted the bottle as he lowered it to the bitch's mouth, allowing the cum to carefully drain into the cloudy mix. "Yesterday's load. I thought of you, Bitch, when I came, and how much you would enjoy this."
A gargled affirmation, and eyes that sparkled with gratitude. The bitch had never been so degraded.
Sir grabbed his own hardened cock, a thick stick with which to stir the messy load. The bitch's breath was getting tighter in an effort to hold the cum, the spit, the piss without spilling.
"Good bitch," acknowledged Sir. "Now start to swallow, but just a little. Slowly ... slowly."
The indescribable taste of Sir's juices, often smelled separately, now tasted as one, going into him, into his very core, to be mixed with his own juices.
They both understood what this moment meant.