Mistress Alice, clad in a form-fitting latex catsuit, watches with satisfaction as Maskjoe, bound and masked, kneels before her. She's been wanting to christen her new dungeon, and what better way than with a good, hard piss? She unzips, her bladder releasing a torrent onto Maskjoe's eager, upturned face. He catches as much as he can, but the excess runs down, pooling on the cold stone floor. She steps back, admiring her handiwork, then orders him to lap it up, savoring the taste of her dominance.