Missy van Licks, Lady Blackdiamoond, and Calea Toxic stand in a semicircle around their subordinate, who lies obediently on the cold tiles. With condescending glances, they revel in their superiority as they simultaneously empty their bladders over him. Warm, golden streams cascade onto his skin and soak him completely, yet he dares not move. The mistresses laugh at his total devotion and the sheer absurdity of his wet, pitiful form. He closes his eyes and drinks directly from the source, accepting the liquid marking as a sign of his absolute submission to their collective will.