Lady Nora watched as the servant squatted in the room, his face turned away from her, all day long. It was boring for her, and she wanted to add some excitement to the day. After all, who could resist the chance to humiliate their own slave? With a smirk, she walked over to him and announced, "You may move, slave."
His eagerness was evident as he jumped up from his squatting position, the bitter taste of his own filth still on his tongue. He couldn't believe his luck; he was finally getting to move! He stood before her, waiting for his next command, his eyes fixed on the ground.
Lady Nora gazed at him critically, her eyes raking over his naked form. She had always found him attractive, even though he was nothing more than her toy. She quickly snapped out of her thoughts and grabbed a collar from a nearby table. With a sneer, she shoved it onto his neck before locking it in place.
Next, she grabbed a leash and fastened it to the collar. She pulled on it gently, causing him to stumble forward. "I want you to crawl over to the wall," she commanded.
The slave did as he was told, crawling on his hands and knees towards the wall. His body ached from being in the same position all day, but he didn't dare complain. He knew better than that.
Once he reached the wall, Lady Nora stood before him, her legs spread slightly. She looked down at him, a wicked glint in her eyes. "I'm going to play a little game with you," she purred.
The slave's heart began to race. He couldn't imagine what she had in store for him. His mind was flooded with images of physical pain, but that wasn't what she wanted this time. She wanted something more intimate, more humiliating.
"Breath reduction," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're going to breathe for me, slave."
The slave didn't understand at first. But as she reached down and gripped his hair, he realized what she meant. She wanted him to breathe in her scent, to inhale it deeply. He was going to breathe for her.
Slowly, she lowered herself down, her ass resting against his mouth. He could feel the warmth of her body against his skin, the sweet smell of her perfume filling his nostrils. She was giving him a choice: either he obeyed and took in her scent, or she'd find a much harsher way to make him breathe.
Tentatively, he took a deep breath, his nose burrowing into her skin. He could feel the material of her pants against his face, but he didn't care. He was breathing for his mistress.
As he exhaled, he felt her hips sway gently. She was encouraging him, ensuring that he was taking in enough of her scent. The more of it he inhaled, the more aroused she became.
Time seemed to slow down as they moved together like this. The slave's entire focus was on breathing in her scent, on pleasing his mistress. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been this turned on, this submissive.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she pulled away. The slave blinked up at her, his cheeks flushed, wondering what would happen next.
"That was very good, slave," she purred. "Now, let's see how well you can hold your breath."
With that, she stood up and walked away, leaving the slave to stare after her, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew that he would do anything she asked of him, no matter how humiliating or painful it might be. The thought of pleasing her, of being by her side, kept him going even when he thought he couldn't take anymore.
