Madame Marissa - Facesitting the slave and draining his creditcard

In the luxurious, dimly lit office of Madame Marissa, the mistress of scat and facesitting, today's session was going to be extra special. The slave eagerly awaited her arrival, his anticipation and fear mixed together in equal measure. He knew what was in store for him: Madame Marissa had announced that she would be using his body as both her chair and her personal shopping assistant. As she stepped into the room, clad in her usual leather dominatrix attire, the slave's heart raced faster.

She approached him, her high-heeled boots clicking against the floor, and motioned for him to lie down on the plush, red carpet. His face was positioned just right, between her buttocks, and he felt the cool, leathery texture of her thong against his nose. Without further instruction, he opened his mouth wide, allowing her to position herself comfortably.

And so the facesitting began. Madame Marissa settled into her position, her weight pressing down on the slave's face, making it difficult for him to breathe. But this was part of the thrill. He loved the feeling of being completely controlled, of submitting to his mistress' every whim. He could feel her warm breath against his skin as she began to speak, her voice only barely audible over the sound of their heavy breathing.

She started to shop, using the slave's credit card to make purchases. "A new pair of shoes?" she wondered aloud, her ass jiggling slightly with each word. "Or maybe two pairs? They're just too pretty to resist." The slave heard a muffled beeping sound as the card was swiped, and he knew that another purchase had been made. His heart sank as he realized how quickly his hard-earned money was disappearing.

As the facesitting continued, Madame Marissa grew bolder. She was now browsing for high-end designer outfits, racking up more charges on the credit card. The slave could feel her movements underneath him, her hips grinding against his face as she searched for the perfect item. His struggles for air became more desperate, but he knew better than to protest or beg for mercy.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Madame Marissa concluded her shopping spree. She stood up slowly, allowing herself a moment to stretch before turning to face the terrified slave. She brought her heel down hard on his chest, making him gasp for air. "And there you have it, dear slave," she said, holding up his credit card for him to see. "A grand total of $5,000. Well spent, I must say."

The slave couldn't believe it. In one fell swoop, Madame Marissa had drained his entire account. He was left with a bitter taste in his mouth, both literally and figuratively. But in spite of his misery, he couldn't deny the intense rush of submission he had felt during their encounter. For now, all he could do was wait for his punishment...