Boss Girls Productions - Long worn jeans on his face

Boss Girls Productions - Long worn jeans on his face

Dominique was quite the boss, and she knew it. She strutted around her office in her high heels, her long legs taking her everywhere she needed to go. Her assistant was always there to answer her call, and though he didn't deserve it, she decided to show him just how much power she held over him. One day, after a long day of work, she casually strolled into the break room where her assistant was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He was just about to take a sip when she swooped in, her jeans rustling against her thighs. "Would you mind doing something for me?" she purred, giving him that look that made him tremble. He couldn't form words, just nodded vigorously in agreement. Whatever she wanted, he would do. She smiled cruelly, knowing full well the power she held over him. "I want you to smell my jeans," she commanded. His heart raced, but he did as he was told. He brought the jeans up to his nose, inhaling deeply. The scent was intoxicating - it was Dominique. She'd worn these jeans for a long time, and they were soaked with her body odor - just perfect for sitting on a slave's face. She watched with satisfaction as he took in her scent, his eyes widening in horror and arousal. "Is something wrong?" she asked innocently. "Don't you deserve this? Don't you deserve to be treated like the loser you are?" He couldn't answer, so he just nodded again. She chuckled darkly before stepping closer, hovering over him. "These jeans are all for you, slave," she whispered menacingly. "Put them on your face." He couldn't believe what was happening, but he did as he was told. He pressed the damp, sweaty denim against his face, inhaling her scent deeply. It was intoxicating, and he felt a strange mix of shame and arousal coursing through his veins. "That's right," she purred, running her hands through his hair. "You're honored, slave. You get to smell my stinky jeans all day long." And so, he spent the rest of the day with her jeans on his face. Every time she walked by, she'd give him a little shove, forcing him deeper into the scent. He spent the entire day with his nose buried in her jeans, feeling both humiliated and aroused by the situation. When the day finally ended, he could barely stand, his mind reeling from the assault on his senses. But as he dragged himself to the door, she stopped him. "Don't forget," she said with a malicious grin, "you get to smell me tomorrow too."