Boss Girls Productions Presents: Breathing Deprivation with LeoJeans - Special Day
I slipped into my leopard-print jeans, feeling their soft fabric glide over my skin. They were already making their presence known as they settled into the comfortable seat cushion I had claimed. As my eyes settled on my pathetic, doomed slave kneeling at my feet, a wicked smile curled across my lips. Today was going to be a day of pure pleasure for me, and a day of torment for him.
"Look at that," I purred, admiring the way my ass naturally molded itself to the shape of the seat. "It fits perfectly, doesn't it?" I rhetorically asked, knowing full well that this seat was custom-made for my behind. It had been specifically designed to enhance my power and dominance over my slaves, and today would be no different.
With a sneer, I turned my attention back to my slave. His poor, pathetic face was flushed with anticipation and fear, his eyes barely cracking open as he watched me. He knew what was coming, and he was powerless to stop it. "Today," I began, my voice low and menacing, "I am going to sit on your face. On your slave puss, if you will."
I watched as he quivered in fear at the thought of my hot ass coming to rest on his aching mouth. His eyes darted around wildly, searching for any sort of escape or reprieve. But there was none to be found. I was in control, and he was mine.
"Now, I could sit like this all day," I continued, flexing my delicious ass back and forth enticingly. "Because your slave puss was made for my ass. You see, I trained you very well. You're such a good boy. You don't mind when I sit on your face, do you?"
My slave shook his head, his eyes shut tightly. "No, Mistress," he murmured, his voice barely audible.
"That's a good boy," I cooed, running a hand over his head affectionately. "Now, when I sit on you, you won't be able to breathe. Breathing deprivation is one of your favorite things, isn't it?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
The slave shook his head again, his breathing quickening as he prepared himself for the onslaught of pain and pleasure that was about to come.
With a chuckle, I climbed onto the seat, feeling the cool air brush against my back before it was entirely cut off by my slave's face. He gasped as he felt my weight settle on him, his mouth open wide in preparation for what was to come.
I smiled down at him, feeling the desire and fear coursing through his veins. "See, your slave puss was made for this," I purred, grinding my hips against his face. "You are so damn comfortable."
I could feel his heartbeat through my leopard-print jeans, his mouth desperately trying to force air into his lungs. But it was no use. With every passing moment, the world began to blur around him as the lack of air took its toll.
I sat there, basking in the power I held over him. This was what I lived for: the look of helplessness in his eyes, the feeling of his body submitting entirely to mine. I leaned forward, running my hands through his hair as I ground myself against him, taking him to the brink of ecstasy and back.
And then, suddenly, I pulled away. His eyes fluttered open, and he sucked in a deep, desperate breath of air. "Wasn't that fun?" I asked with a smile, standing up and stretching languidly. "We could do this all day."
With a flick of my wrist, I gestured towards the door. "Don't forget your job, slave," I purred, his leash attached to my hand. "And don't you dare forget to clean my leopard-print jeans from your pathetic, stinking slave puss."
As he scrambled to his feet, bowing deeply before me, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. Today had been a good day for Boss Girls Productions. And for me, it had been just another day in paradise, surrounded by my power and my toys.
