Mistress Jane and Mistress Zora were two of the most dominant women in town, and their latest project involved finding the perfect loser to torment. They stumbled upon him in a rundown bar, looking utterly defeated by life. The two mistresses struck up a conversation with him, and before he knew it, he was in their clutches.
It was decided that the man would serve as their personal slave. His only purpose was to make them happy, which meant doing whatever they wanted him to do. And what they wanted most of all was to sit on his face and make him suffer.
The slave was brought to a dimly lit room where the two mistresses were waiting for him. He knelt down before them, his eyes locked on their perfect asses. Mistress Jane started things off by straddling his face, her plump cheeks filling his vision. She let out a long, slow breath as she sank onto his nose and mouth, cutting off his air supply.
He could feel her warmth envelop him as she sat there, not moving a muscle. He struggled to breathe, his chest heaving as he tried to get some air. But Mistress Jane didn't care; she was enjoying this too much to let him up for air.
After what felt like an eternity, Mistress Zora took over. She had a tighter ass than her companion, making it even harder for the slave to breathe. She ground her hips against his face, enjoying the sensation of her weight pressing down on him.
The two mistresses took turns sitting on his face, alternating between suffocating him and teasing him with the occasional sip of air. He tried to beg for mercy, but all that came out was a muffled whimper. They could see the desperation in his eyes, but they didn't care. To them, he was nothing more than a weak, worthless creature they could torment whenever they pleased.
Hours passed, and the slave's mind began to melt away. He couldn't think straight anymore; all he could focus on was the constant pressure of the asses on his face. He felt like he was losing himself, like this was all a dream. But it wasn't. This was reality, and these two dominant women were in control of every aspect of his life.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the two mistresses grew tired of their game. They stood up, towering over the pathetic man on the floor. "You're such a good little loser," Mistress Jane cooed, running a hand through his hair. Mistress Zora laughed, a cold, cruel sound that sent shivers down the slave's spine.
With one last glance at their defeated slave, the two mistresses left the room, leaving him alone to wonder what horrible thing they would come up with next. The poor man couldn't help but feel grateful for the brief respite, knowing deep down that it was only a matter of time before they found something new and exciting to torment him with.
