Malafalda, a filthy hog restrained on her knees and completely immobilized, becomes my personal receptacle. I command her to open wide, and I unleash my liquid breakfast directly from my stomach into her waiting mouth. The depraved bitch relishes every drop, even gargling with my puke before swallowing it down. After relentlessly vomiting into her for what feels like an eternity, I squat down, stare into her messy face, and growl, "Just how I wanted you, filthy, coated in my vomit." Then, a sudden urge to piss hits me, and Malafalda's mouth transforms into my human toilet.