**Permanent Toilet**

I should’ve known something was up when Zoe texted me, *”Come over. We need to talk.”* After the messy breakup, I swore I’d never step foot in her house again—but curiosity got the better of me. Now, kneeling in her basement, wrists locked in cold steel cuffs chained to the floor, I realized just how badly I’d fucked up.

“You always did talk too much,” Zoe purred, circling me like a predator. She was dressed in a tight black bodysuit, her curves barely contained, her lips painted the same deep red as her nails. “But I think you’ll be a lot more useful with your mouth *occupied*.”

Before I could protest, she grabbed my hair and yanked my head up, forcing my lips open. “You’re gonna be my personal toilet now, baby. No more talking. No more running. Just *serving*.”

My stomach twisted, but my cock betrayed me, hardening instantly. Zoe noticed, grinning as she unzipped her bodysuit. “Oh, you *like* this, don’t you?”

I didn’t have time to answer. She straddled my face, her pussy hovering inches above my mouth. The scent of her arousal was thick, musky, intoxicating. “Open,” she commanded, and I obeyed.

Her cunt pressed down on me, hot and slick. She ground against my tongue, moaning as I lapped at her folds. “Mmm, good boy. Just like that.” Her fingers tightened in my hair, guiding me deeper. I could barely breathe, but the more she used me, the harder I got.

Then, without warning, she shifted—lifting her hips just enough to align her ass over my mouth. A gasp escaped me before I felt her weight sink down. “Time to earn your keep,” she murmured, her voice dripping with dark amusement.

The first trickle hit my tongue—warm, salty, unmistakable. I flinched, but she gripped my hair harder, forcing me to swallow. “That’s it. Take it all.”

Her piss flowed freely, filling my mouth, running down my chin. I choked, but Zoe just sighed in pleasure, rocking her hips as she emptied herself down my throat. “Fuck, you were *made* for this,” she moaned.

When she finally lifted off, I was panting, my face soaked. She wiped herself on my cheek, smirking. “That was just the *start*.”

She stepped back, examining me like a piece of furniture. “I think we’ll keep you like this permanently. No more walking. No more arguing. Just *existing*—as my toilet.” She leaned down, her breath hot in my ear. “And if you’re *really* good, maybe I’ll let you taste my pussy again before I piss in you.”

My cock throbbed, leaking against my leg. Fuck. I was hers now—and I *loved* it.