Madame Marissa, a gorgeous and dominant woman, sat down on the seat pad with a thud. Her heart-shaped ass was plush and firm, encased in a pair of sheer black panties that did little to hide her delicious rear end. The seat pad let out a whimper of submission as it felt her weight press down upon it.
"Yes, little seat pad," she purred, "today we're going to do a really hard training." She pulled out a timer from her pocket and set it to zero. "You'll only get short breathing breaks," she continued, "before I sit down on your face again and my divine ass smothers you again."
With a grin, Madame Marissa began the training. She allowed the seat pad to take five long, deep breaths before firmly pressing her ass back down onto its face. The seat pad gasped for air, its body aching for oxygen. Madame Marissa allowed it to breathe only four more times before decreasing the number of breaths it was given.
The timer continued to count down, and with each passing second, the seat pad felt its strength draining. Its eyes were bulging out of its sockets, and its face was turning red from lack of air. Madame Marissa let out a playful chuckle as she saw the seat pad's desperation.
"You'll only get three breaths now," she announced, her voice dripping with seduction. The seat pad trembled under her weight. It knew it couldn't last much longer. It pleaded with her through its whimpers, but Madame Marissa would not relent.
The timer reached zero, and with a triumphant smirk, Madame Marissa sat on the seat pad's face one last time. The seat pad tried to inhale, but it was too late. It took only one pathetic gasp before Madame Marissa's ass completely cut off its air supply. The seat pad's body writhed in agony as its mind screamed for oxygen.
"And there you have it," Madame Marissa said, standing up from the seat pad. She looked down at her victim with cold, emotionless eyes. "You tried to escape your fate, but in the end, you were always going to be my seat pad."
With that, Madame Marissa walked away, leaving the defeated and exhausted seat pad lying on the floor. It could do nothing but whimper and pray for someone to come save it from its torment. But Madame Marissa was gone, and the seat pad was all alone in its pain.
