Boss Girls Productions - Breathing deprivation with leojeans

Leaning against my desk, I admire the royal blue leopard print fabric that drapes softly over the curve of my ass. It's time to put the outfit to good use again. My slave's face eagerly awaits its fate as he prostrates himself before me, anticipating another day of breath-taking pleasure - or rather, breath deprivation. I strut towards him confidently, relishing in the power I hold over his body. As I lower myself onto his face, my buttocks come to rest right against the warm, stale air trapped in his lungs. It's like a natural faceplate that conforms to the contours of my ass cheeks, forming a comfortable seat cushion. This spot has become his throne now; he knows it wouldn't be long until he loses consciousness from oxygen deprivation at the hands of his Boss Girl Mistress. But I won't stop there. I plan on prolonging his agony for as long as possible, because it feels so damn good, and he seems to take it quite well. "Don't you dare move, slave," I warn as I reach for my phone to capture this moment of submission. My slave remains still, his gaze fixated on my asscrack as if it were a sacred portal that leads to heaven or hell - I'm not quite sure which. But I must admit, he's quite the trooper; I've trained him well. It seems my investment in his thorough face-sitting training has paid off. "Here comes another round," I tease before settling into a comfortable position. My thong-clad pussy presses against his forehead, and my breasts graze his cheekbones as he struggles to catch a breath. The intoxicating scent of my pussy only serves to intensify the atmosphere between us. It's clear who holds all the power in this room. With every passing moment, the tension grows thicker, and his desperation becomes more apparent in the way he squirms beneath me - all while maintaining that impeccable poker face. Hours may have passed already, but neither of us is about to give up this exhilarating game anytime soon. The anticipation of him losing consciousness at any second only adds fuel to our twisted affair. His devoted tongue remains lodged between my ass cheeks, licking up every residue of his own cum and feces; an act both humiliating and arousing for him. Meanwhile, his nose is completely sealed off from oxygen by the plush leopard-print cushion that now serves as his face mask. Eventually, I decide it's time for a change. Slowly, I stand up, using my slave as a human chair once again. He remains completely still, waiting for my next command. I slide my hand between his legs, feeling the warmth emanating from his shaven ballsack. It's then that I whisper into his ear, "Such a good boy; you've made mama very proud." As much as I love watching him squirm beneath me during extended face-sitting sessions, it's moments like these that really drive home how much power I wield over him. With one final parting shot, I lean forward, pressing my tempting ass against his face one last time before disappearing into my office. The door closes with a soft click, leaving him alone in the silence of his torment. This isn't long; I know he'll be dreaming of me until our next session. After all, this leopard-print butthole has claimed its latest prey, and there's no denying that it was made for him.