In the lush, dimly lit office, Cathy, the boss lady, was in high spirits; she had a plan to inflict unimaginable humiliation on her subordinate. She waited for her friend, Cora, to join her for this special session. Meanwhile, the unsuspecting slave was already in position - bound tightly, gagged with duct tape, and blindfolded. All he could do was anticipate his impending fate with fearful anticipation.
Cora, a busty voluptuous woman, entered the room, her thighs shaking with every step. She couldn't contain her excitement at the thought of sitting on the slave's face. She joined Cathy in front of the bound man, and they both leaned in close to him. Their hot, moist breath teasing his skin.
"Today you're in for a real treat," Cathy purred, her voice dripping with malice. "Not only will I be humiliating you, but my good friend Cora will join me too."
Cora smirked down at the slave, licking her full lips in anticipation. "Oh yes," she whispered, running a finger suggestively along the slave's chin. "I'm going to sit on your face until you can't take it anymore."
The women then began to undress, revealing their massive, jiggling bodies. Their stomachs rolled with excess weight as they stepped out of their tight skirts and ripped apart their bras, freeing their massive knockers. The slave watched in horror as they reached down and pulled up their skirts, revealing hairy, sweaty pussies glistening with anticipation.
"Now," Cathy said, her voice cold as ice, "I want you to smell our asses." She grabbed one of the slave's hands and forced it up against her backside, pushing his face into her crack. The stench of sweat and filth assaulted his senses as he tried desperately to breathe through his nose.
"Now do Cora's," she commanded, slapping his face hard when he didn't respond quickly enough. The slave groaned in protest as he struggled against the bonds holding him in place. Cora pushed his face close to her meaty ass cheeks, allowing him to get a whiff of her foul pit.
The women laughed maniacally as they forced the slave to smell their farts, sweat, and other bodily fluids. They took turns pushing his face deeper into their crack, savoring the sound of him gagging on their stinky asses. It was almost enough to bring them both to orgasm.
Finally, they had had their fill of the smell. Cathy pulled out a mop handle from behind her desk and motioned for the slave to try and stand up. With some effort, he managed to stand on shaky legs, still bound and gagged. Cora stuffed her sweat-soaked socks into his mouth, causing him to gag even more.
"Now, let's see how he likes this," Cathy said, pressing a button on the control panel. With a whirring sound, a large machine began to emerge from beneath the desk. It was designed to flatten objects, perfect for their sadistic plan.
The machine moved towards the slave, slowly enveloping him in its metal claws. With a loud clank, it closed around him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. The slave felt himself being flattened like a pancake, his bones creaking and cracking under the relentless pressure.
Cora clapped her hands in excitement as she watched the once-human creature being transformed into a human washing machine. "This is going to be so much fun!" she squealed, jumping up and down in anticipation.
As the machine finished its gruesome task, it released the now-flat slave onto the floor. Cathy and Cora took their positions, each woman settling down onto one of the slave's now-flat sides. They leaned forward, their massive breasts hanging over his face, as they reveled in his new form.
They sat there for hours, using the slave as a footstool, a seat cushion - he was nothing more than a living carpet under their vast expanse of flesh. Occasionally, they would laugh maniacally, enjoying the look of terror in his lifeless eyes.
As the evening wore on, the women grew tired. Cathy unbound the slave's hands and mouth, allowing him to slump to the floor in a heap. They left him there, gasping for air and struggling to process what had just happened.
The next day, Cathy walked into her office to find the slave lying in a pool of his own vomit and urine. His eyes were empty, lost in the depths of despair. He didn't even register her presence - he was beyond caring what happened next.
She sighed heavily, pouring herself a glass of wine. She considered the slave's predicament and felt a twinge of guilt. After all, she was his boss, and she had a responsibility to look after him. But then again, he was just a slave - what did it matter what happened to him?
Shaking her head to clear away the unwanted thoughts, Cathy sat down at her desk, determined to forget about the incident and focus on more important things - like her next victim.
