Mistress BlackDiamoond and Her Two Friends: A Facesitting Slave's Worst Nightmare
The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the small, bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. In the middle of the room was a large, black leather couch with three women sitting on it, their heavy, dripping wet leather outfits glistening in the dim light. The women were dressed in a manner that left little to the imagination, their bodies tightly wrapped in the supple material.
One of the women, Mistress BlackDiamoond, had long, raven hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall. She wore a black leather body suit that hugged every curve of her voluptuous form, letting out a low chuckle as she spoke to the man kneeling before them.
"You will be our facesitting slave today, loser," she purred, her gaze never leaving the terrified man's face. "A slave for our sexy wetlook and leather asses! Lady Alice, Miss Kasha, and I will stuff your mouth full. You will learn what it means to be a living seat cushion just used for facesitting."
The man, who was barely able to catch his breath, nodded weakly, his heart racing in his chest. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back as he wondered what horrors these women had in store for him.
"You don't deserve anything else," Mistress BlackDiamoond continued, her voice cold and cruel. "You are a living furniture and have to bear our weight. Understood, seat cushion?"
The man could only nod, his mouth already starting to water at the thought of tasting their leather-clad asses. As if reading his mind, the woman named Lady Alice leaned forward, her ample bosom pressing against the leather couch. She reached down and pulled off her leather thong, revealing a perfectly round, glistening ass cheek.
"Open wide, slave," she commanded, slapping his face hard enough to make him flinch.
With trembling hands, the man opened his mouth wide, feeling his tongue press against the roof of his mouth. The anticipation was almost unbearable as he waited for the first taste of leather.
Slowly, Lady Alice lowered her pouty ass onto his mouth, feeling the cold, hard surface of the couch press against his tongue. He moaned around her ass cheek, savoring the taste of sweat and leather that filled his mouth.
One by one, the women lowered their asses onto the man's face, each cheek pressing against his lips, his nose, his eyes. He let out muffled moans of pleasure, his body shuddering with every impact.
As he lay there, a living pussy-bowl for their leather-clad asses, he realized that this was indeed his worst nightmare come true. But somehow, he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction deep down inside.
