As I arrived at my dingy little dungeon, my heart pounded with excitement. I had been planning this evening for weeks, and the moment of truth was finally here. My slave cowered in the corner, his eyes wide with fear as he realized who had entered the room.
"Lady Scarlet, "he gasped, falling to his knees in submission.
I scoffed at his pathetic display of humility and disdainfully stepped over him, making my way to the center of the room. When I reached him, I noticed that this disgusting man had my pantyhose in his mouth. It really pissed me off.
"What are you doing?" I demanded, ripping the filthy garment out of his mouth. They were wet with his saliva, and I immediately regretted having worn those particular pantyhose today. In a fit of rage, I wrapped them around his neck and tightened it, choking him slightly.
"I... I'm sorry, my Lady," he stammered, his voice muffled by the fabric. "I didn't mean any disrespect."
But I wasn't interested in his pathetic excuses. Instead, I decided to use my butt to punish him. I sat down heavily on his face, closing his nose between my buttocks. His bubbling gasps for air filled the room, and I reveled in his helplessness.
"Suck it up, slave," I growled, grinding my hips into his face. "You'll be grateful when I'm done with you."
I continued like this several times, positioning myself on his face in different ways and only getting up when he could no longer breathe. It was exhilarating to control him so completely. But I didn't want to show him any mercy just yet.
After playing with my beautiful feet on his face, I took my pantyhose and stuffed them back into his mouth before starting to punish him with my butt again. This time, I leaned forward, placing my hands on either side of his head, and ground my weight into him. His muffled screams filled the room as he shook underneath me.
Finally, when my lower back began to ache from the relentless pressure, I dragged myself off of him, satisfied that he had been sufficiently punished. As I rose to my feet, I could see how exhausted he was, his chest heaving with each labored breath.
"Pathetic," I muttered under my breath, making my way over to my favorite chair. I plopped down into it, stretching my feet close to his face as I did so.
My slave remained on the floor, panting heavily, his eyes fixed on me with a mixture of fear and desire. Despite everything he had just endured, there was still a spark of hope in those eyes—hope that someday I might show him mercy.
But for now, I sat back in my chair and basked in the power I held over him. This was truly my moment.
