Boss Girls Productions - July makes his face her makeup stool

In Boss Girls Productions, there's always a need for perfection. And when it comes to makeup, July knows just who to call upon. Her loyal slave, who has been trained to obey her every command, is summoned to her presence. He enters the room with a tremble in his step, aware of the importance of his task today. July stands before him, adorned in a figure-hugging dress that accentuates her curves and highlights her ample cleavage. Her eyes sweep over him coldly, her high heels clicking against the hardwood floor. "I need a comfortable place to sit down on," she says, her voice icy and commanding. "You will be that place."

With a sigh of resignation, the slave gets down on his knees and bows his head submissively. July walks over to him, her hips swaying seductively, and places one perfect stiletto heel on the center of his forehead. It digs in painfully, but he remains still, determined not to anger his Mistress any further. "Good boy," she purrs, running her fingers through her silky hair as she gazes at herself in the mirror. She picks up her makeup bag and begins to rummage through it, her manicured nails tapping against the glass bottles contained within. Finally, she selects the brush she needs and approaches the slave once again. "Open wide," she demands, gesturing for him to open his mouth. The slave complies, his tongue darting nervously between his teeth.

With gentle precision, July paints her lips a vibrant shade of pink, careful not to mistake them for her eyelids. As she applies the lipstick, her breath fans against his face, sending shivers down his spine. When she's finally satisfied with the result, she steps back to admire her handiwork in the mirror. "Perfect," she murmurs contentedly. "Now, let's see about those eyes." The slave braces himself, knowing what comes next. July grips his hair firmly and pulls his head back, exposing his face completely. "Now, close your eyes," she says, her voice taking on a teasing tone. "I don't want you to miss out on the show." He obeys, feeling her body heat against his cheek as she leans closer. The soft rustling of her dress fills his ears, along with the occasional click of her jeweled necklace against her skin. Gradually, he starts to notice the gentle movement of air against his eyelids, signaling that she's beginning to apply the powder and the shadow. It's an intimate experience, one that leaves him both aroused and terrified.

When July is satisfied with her makeup, she steps back once again to assess her work. Satisfied with the result, she grins wickedly at her reflection. "You've been a good seat, my little minion. I think it's time to take a break." With that, she places the makeup brushes back in their case and snaps it shut. She turns to leave, but not without one last taunt. "Don't worry, I'll remember this little favor you've done for me," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. And with that, she leaves him there, alone with his thoughts and the warmth of her presence lingering on his skin.

The slave remains where he is, his body trembling with emotion. He knows that this is only the beginning of his ordeal, but also that it could have been much worse. As he lies there, staring blankly at the ceiling, he can't help but wonder what other degrading tasks she might have in store for him. But for now, he must resign himself to the fact that he is simply her plaything, there to be used and discarded at her whim. And so, he waits, his only consolation the knowledge that he has served his Mistress well, even if it meant being used as nothing more than a makeup stool.