Understood Madame Marissa," replied the seat pad, his voice trembling slightly with fear and excitement. As he waited for her to sit down, he couldn't help but wonder what horrible torment she would inflict upon him this time.
Lady Nadja entered the room, her sharp heels clicking on the floor as she strutted towards him. She stopped in front of him, towering over him with her imposing figure. Without warning, she lifted one leg and placed it behind her, revealing the black edge of her lace panties. His eyes widened as she grabbed his head and shoved him forwards, gagging himself on her panties.
Her other leg slid between his, forcing him apart before grabbing onto his shoulders and pushing him down onto the ground. She straddled him, trapping him under her body as she pressed down on him, smothering him with her weight. Despite struggling to breathe, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight before him - Lady Nadja's ample breasts straining against her shirt, her perspiration glistening on her skin.
Madame Marissa then took a seat on another chair nearby, her hard jeans clinging to her rounded ass. She swayed her hips provocatively, inviting Lady Nadja to sit on her lap. Without hesitation, Lady Nadja reached down and grabbed the tie to her dress, pulling it up and over her head before climbing onto Madame Marissa's lap.
"How does it feel to have two females sitting on you at once?" asked Madame Marissa, her voice filled with amusement. "Do you think you can handle it?"
Lady Nadja leaned over, her breasts pressing against his face as she reached down and grabbed his bound hands. She pulled them up behind his back, straining his already aching shoulders. Slowly, she began to grind her hips against him, moaning softly as she felt the bulge in his pants grow larger.
Despite the increasing discomfort and pain, the seat pad couldn't help but feel aroused by their dominance. He tried to focus on anything but the sensation of their bodies grinding against him as they each took turns moving in rhythm with each other.
Madame Marissa reached down and slapped him across the face, causing him to let out a muffled cry. "Don't worry, seat pad," she said coldly. "This is just the beginning." And with that, she lost interest in teasing him further and shifted her weight on the chair, forcing even more of her weight onto him.
Hours passed, and the seat pad felt as if every inch of his body had been used and abused. He was drenched in sweat and couldn't move without experiencing fresh waves of pain. But despite everything, he knew that he would return to this torture chamber willingly, because it was the only time he felt truly alive.
