The gorgeous mistress Zora, clad in a pair of form-fitting hotpants that hugged her curvy ass and barely covered her pussy, stepped into the room where her slave lay waiting. She surveyed him with a cold stare, her dark eyes glinting with pleasure at the thought of what she had in store for him today.
The slave trembled beneath her gaze, knowing full well that when she spoke, it would be to issue orders that he must obey without question. "You will address me as 'Mistress' at all times," she said in a low sultry voice, her eyes flicking towards his crotch. "Is that clear?"
"Yes, Mistress," he managed to stammer out, his heart pounding in his chest.
Mistress Zora walked over to where the slave lay bound to a frame, his arms stretched above his head and his legs spread wide apart. With a cruel smile, she reached down and grabbed hold of his cock, squeezing it gently before letting go with a laugh. "You're so hard already, my little slave," she purred, running a finger along his chin. "That's what I love to see. Now, open wide."
As he parted his lips, she gently placed one foot at the base of his neck and lowered herself down onto his face, her hotpants rubbing against his skin like sandpaper. He gagged as the abrasive fabric brushed against his face, breathing in the light floral scent she wore. He felt her weight on his chest, pressing him down into the floor as she sat there, testing how long he could go without air under her ass.
"This is where your ass belongs," Mistress Zora told him coldly, her foot unconsciously starting to gyrate against his chest. "You will take pleasure in it, my slave." She smiled cruelly and began to shift her weight around, leaning forward and backward, swaying from side to side, lifting one leg up and down in various positions.
He tried desperately to remain composed, but the pain from the rough denim fabric rubbing against his face and growing area under his tongue was intense. Slowly but surely, the agony started to eat away at him until he felt like he would pass out from lack of air. Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, she finally removed her foot from its position on his chest and stood up, leaving him gasping for air.
"Well done, my slave," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You've lasted quite a while. Now let's see if you can take something else." With that, she lifted her leg again and placed it back on the frame above his head, leaning forward once more.
He couldn't believe his eyes when she sat down again, this time in a position where her pulsating pussy was directly above his mouth. "Open up," she commanded.
He hesitated for a moment, afraid of the pain he knew would follow. But then he felt her impatience radiating off of her, and he knew that if he didn't obey, he would face even worse consequences. So he parted his lips and stuck out his tongue, and she grinned wickedly before lowering herself back down onto his face. His tongue was immediately met with the sweet, pungent taste of her aroused folds, and he fought against the urge to gag as he felt her warmth envelop him.
She rode him hard, her hips grinding against his face in a rhythmic motion that felt more like punishment than pleasure. But he knew better than to protest, so he remained silent, focusing on taking as much of her essence as she was willing to give.
After what felt like an eternity, but could have been mere minutes, she finally pulled away and stood up. "That was fun," she said with a satisfied smile. "But it's getting late. You'll have lots of time to think about how much you enjoyed this tomorrow." And with that, she walked out of the room, leaving the slave to clean himself up and stew in his own juices.
