Madame Marissa, a tall and dominating woman, had her eyes set on the slave who was kneeling before her. She owned him, body and soul, and he knew it. Madame Marissa was infamous for her cruel games and twisted pleasure seeking. Today, she had a new game in mind for her slave. He had been her seatpad for quite some time now, but his performance left much to be desired. She decided to test his breath-holding abilities, and his fate would be decided by a spin of the wheel of fortune.
The wheel was huge, round, and painted with different numbers from 20 to 95. With a satisfied grin spreading across her face, Madame Marissa placed herself firmly on a velvet chair and gestured for the slave to come closer. He crawled towards her, his heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. She placed the slave's head between her thighs and rested her ass gently on his face. "Breathe," she commanded in a sultry voice, taking pleasure in the way his warm breath caressed her silky skin.
With a devious smirk, Madame Marissa spun the wheel, feeling the momentum build as it gained speed. Finally, it came to a halt, revealing the number it had chosen. The slave sucked in a deep breath as the wheel landed on 75. His chest heaved up and down as he struggled to catch his breath. Madame Marissa chuckled darkly, leaning back into the cushions of her chair and closing her eyes, savoring the moment. "You have 75 seconds," she announced slowly, her voice echoing through the room. The slave groaned, knowing that he was about to be put through another round of torture.
Time seemed to slow down as the seconds ticked by. The slave fought against the urge to gasp for air, his lungs burning and his head spinning. Madame Marissa's ass felt hot and heavy on his face, making it harder for him to focus on anything but the need for oxygen. As the seconds ticked down, the pressure in his chest grew, and his mind started to cloud. Just when he thought he couldn't hold it any longer, Madame Marissa finally lifted her ass off his face. He sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs with sweet, precious air.
Before he could catch his breath, Madame Marissa spun the wheel again, this time landing on 45. The cycle repeated itself once more, with each round more brutal than the last. The slave struggled to keep up, his mind and body pushed to their absolute limits. As the final spin of the wheel came to an end, Madame Marissa leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She gazed down at the slave, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "I think I'm feeling generous today," she purred, running her fingers through his hair. "You may rest now, my little seatpad."
The slave collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air and trying to catch his breath. His body shook with exhaustion and relief. Madame Marissa surveyed him with cold eyes, considering her next move. Satisfied with his performance today, she decided to let him rest, at least for now. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and she couldn't wait to test the limits of her slave once more.
