Mistress Mercedes was feeling particularly playful on this sunny afternoon. She decided to take her entertainment outdoors, where she could enjoy the warmth of the sun and the freshness of the air. Her slave, meanwhile, was already in position - lying on his stomach on a sandy bottom, his head raised expectantly towards his Mistress.
"Today," Mistress Mercedes announced triumphantly, "I shall be making a party on your head!" The slave trembled with anticipation as she approached him, a mischievous glint in her eye. She pulled off her tight jeans, revealing her smooth, toned legs, and then proceeded to step onto his neck with one foot.
"Owww!" the slave cried out, wincing in pain as she pressed down on him. But Mistress Mercedes paid him no mind - instead, she continued to step on him, grinding her foot into his throat as she moved her hips back and forth. "You like that, don't you?" she purred, grabbing a handful of his hair and tugging gently. "You like feeling my foot in your throat, don't you?"
The slave couldn't speak, his mouth full of sand from his previous attempts to scream. He could only nod his head feebly, wincing as the pressure on his throat increased. Mistress Mercedes chuckled softly, her warm breath tickling his ear. "That's it," she murmured soothingly. "Just relax and enjoy it."
And so, the slave did his best to obey her, focusing on the sensations as she continued to step on his throat and grind her hips against him. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain and focus on the strange pleasure that was coursing through his body.
Meanwhile, Mistress Mercedes began to sway her hips, her hands moving up and down his back as she continued to grind her foot into his throat. She let out a soft moan of pleasure, feeling his body tremble beneath her. "Oh yes," she breathed, her voice husky with desire. "You're such a good little slave for me."
As the minutes passed, the slave began to lose track of time. All that existed was the sensation of her foot in his throat, her hips grinding against him, and the warmth of the sun on his back. He didn't know how long she'd been doing this, but he knew that he couldn't last much longer.
Suddenly, Mistress Mercedes removed her foot from his throat, causing the slave to gasp for air. He lay there, panting heavily, as she stepped away from him and and then took her seat on top of him. She straddled him, her soft laughter echoing in the quiet space around them.
"There you have it, my little slave," she purred, running her hands over his chest. "A party for me, and a crushing weight for you." The slave felt the warmth of her body against his, and his heart clenched with both fear and desire. But he knew better than to speak or resist - after all, this was his Mistress, and he was at her mercy.
