In the dimly lit room, Jule sat comfortably in a plush armchair, her thick thighs spread open invitingly. She was wearing a short dress that barely covered her massive ass, revealing a generous glimpse of her voluptuous cheeks. Her eyes scanned across the room, locking onto the figure of her user slave idly standing by the wall.
"Come here," she demanded in a low, seductive tone.
Without hesitation, the slave began shuffling towards her, eyes fixed on his Queen's round ass. As he approached, he could see the outline of her dark, hairy pussy lips peeking out from behind her massive buttocks. His heart raced with anticipation at the thought of being allowed to worship at her altar once again.
"Get on your knees in front of me," Jule commanded with a smirk.
Obeying without question, the slave knelt before her, his face level with the soft folds of skin covering her upper thighs. He inhaled deeply, taking in the musky scent that emanated from his Mistress's intimate area. His tongue involuntarily darted out, tasting the sweet nectar that clung to her skin.
"Speak," Jule growled, amused by his eagerness.
"Mistress, may I taste your divine ass?" he asked, voice quivering with excitement.
"No," Jule replied flatly, determination radiating from her every pore. "You are my human seat. That's where you belong - not behind me, not beside me. Between my legs, under my ass. That's your place."
And with that declaration, she leaned back into the armchair, presenting her plush, hairy crotch to him. Her muscular buttocks rose menacingly into the air, tempting him to reach out and grab them. But he didn't move. He knew better than to disobey her.
Instead, he lowered his face towards her moist undercarriage, taking slow, deep breaths of her musky scent. His tongue darted out once more, tracing the outline of her pussy lips before dipping inside. A low moan escaped from Jule's throat as she felt the warm, wet tongue lapping at her sensitive folds.
"Very good," she purred, feeling a jolt of pleasure shoot up her spine. She reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head deeper into her crotch. "I've got some meat for you here," she added, thrusting her hips forward so he could feel the full weight of her ass pressing against his face.
Suddenly, Jule stood up, sending the slave tumbling forward onto the floor with a loud thud. He looked up, expecting to be punished for his lapse in judgment, but instead saw his Mistress straddling his chest, her fat ass hovering inches above his face.
"You know where you belong," she hissed, lowering herself onto his chest. "You're my seat. My footstool. My living furniture. Just remember that, and maybe I'll let you taste my sweet supper."
With that, she unzipped her black dress and pulled it down over her massive thighs, revealing her hairy pussy to him once again. He could feel the heat emanating from her core as she instructed him to lick her clean. And so, he began to worship his Mistress once again, humming softly under the weight of her magnificent ass.
Content with his service, Jule sat back once more to admire her handiwork. After years of training and perfecting her craft, she had finally found the perfect living furniture to suit her every desire. And she knew it was only a matter of time before others became envious of her magnificent collection.
