Formula 5
The slave lapped at her ass as if it were a slice of Heaven. No matter how many times he kissed it, he couldn’t get enough.
“Stop!” Mistress Rebecca commanded, a subtle yawn escaping her lips. Unlike him, she was getting tired of all the attention and worship. “You did well. If you’re feeling hungry, help yourself at anything in the house and then return to me so we can discuss your training.”
As he meekly left her presence, she grabbed her diary and started jolting down some notes about the effectiveness of her new mind control concoction, Formula 5.
A couple of minutes later, the slave returned, holding an empty bottle of lavender shampoo in one hand and a half-eaten soap bar in the other.
“Hmmm…” He said, bowing his head. “Both the juice and chocolate are delicious, Mistress! Thank you so much for your kindness and generosity!”
Puzzled, Mistress Rebecca watched him continue his strange meal until he felt really sick and dashed to the bathroom to throw up. At that precise moment and after scratching everything she had written so far, her black pen produced the following words:
“Despite turning the subject extremely compliant, Formula 5’s secondary effects make it a complete bust. Will need to try something new next time but first… it’s time for an enema!”
