Lady Cathy was in the mood to use her slave as her human furniture today. She had always admired how submissive he was and how he gladly did whatever she asked of him. She decided that she wanted to experience using him as a sitting furniture under her heavy jeans ass.
The thrill of dominance coursed through her veins as she approached him. His eyes widened in fear when he saw her coming towards him, ready to take control of him once again. She grabbed him roughly by the collar and pulled him closer to her. He tried to resist, but his weak efforts were no match for her superior strength.
"Don't you dare move," she growled, her voice low and menacing. The smell of her expensive perfume filled the air around them, making him lightheaded. She bent down slightly, her massive breasts pressing against his chest, as she lowered herself onto his outstretched legs.
"You're going to be my human furniture today," she said coldly, her breath tickling his ear. "You're just a pathetic little creature to me, and I can do whatever I want with you."
She took a moment to adjust herself, grinding her hips against him as she got into position. God, it felt good having someone beneath her, serving her every need. She closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh, feeling every inch of her weight resting on top of him.
"Now, let's see how good of a sitting furniture you can be," she taunted him, squeezing his shoulder blades together painfully. "You're going to have to stay there all day, taking every inch of me."
The man attempted to push himself up beneath her, hoping that he could somehow free himself from her grip. But his efforts were pathetic, little more than a child's play against her immense strength. Cathy laughed at his feeble attempts, feeling even more in control.
"That's it," she cooed, running her fingers through his hair. "You're such a good little furniture. You know your place."
As the hours went by, Lady Cathy alternated between sitting on him and making him serve her in other ways. She ordered him to bring her snacks, change her position to avoid discomfort, and occasionally adjust her clothing. Each time he moved beneath her, it was with intense fear that she would lose control and crush him beneath her mighty weight.
By the end of the day, the man was nothing more than a broken shell of a human being. His muscles ached from carrying her weight all day, and his soul was shattered from the constant degradation he had endured. But even as he lay there, exhausted and bruised, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. He had served his mistress to the best of his ability, and for one brief moment, he had felt like he was truly living up to his purpose.
