Madame Marissa - My human seat pad

Welcome to my scat fetish site, where I am Madame Marissa. Today's story is all about using my slave's face as a seat pad. I've prepared a special place for him in the living room floor. As he lies there, staring up at me in anticipation, I walk in wearing my sexiest red lingerie, practically spilling out of it. My ass is the main attraction today, and I know he can't wait to feel its full weight smothering his face.

I strut over to him, the fabric of my outfit rustling seductively. Using the tip of my shoe, I nudge him onto his back, forcing his head and neck to arch upwards. He tries to resist, but his powerless before me. Finally, I lower myself down onto him, feeling every inch of my ample buttocks pressing against his yielding face.

The sensation is incredible. His nose is crushed unmercifully by the hard fabric of my pants and by the sheer force of my weight. He's gasping for air, but I don't care. His face is there to serve one purpose only - as a comfortable seat for me. As I start moving around, he's subjected to the full range of my body's movements. Sometimes my ass is a soft, pillowy surface he can sink into, other times it's as hard as a rock, crushing his face mercilessly.

I can hear him pleading with me to stop, begging for mercy, but I ignore him. Instead, I lean forward, enjoying the feeling of him struggling beneath me. I wrap my arms around his head, holding him in place as I continue to sit on his face. The heat of my body is making his skin tingle, and I know he's growing more and more aroused by the sensation. Despite his discomfort, there's a part of him that's loving every minute of this.

He can feel the warmth spreading through his pants, and he knows I've just taken a massive shit. "Madame Marissa, please..." he whimpers, hoping that I might spare him from whatever comes next.

But of course, I won't. Using my hand, I guide the hem of my skirt up to his mouth, giving him a clear view of my steaming fresh turd. I grind my ass against his face, coating his skin with my feces. "Now lick it up, slave," I command him, as I force his head closer to my ass. He opens his mouth obligingly, and I feel his tongue licking the sticky, smelly mess off of my skin.

As he continues to clean me with his tongue, I reach down and begin to undo his pants. The smell of his arousal is almost overpowering, and it only makes me smile. "Looks like you're enjoying this too much," I tease him, before plunging my hand into his underwear and wrapping it around his hard, throbbing cock.

I start pumping him slowly at first, but soon I'm moving my hand faster and faster, matching my rhythm to his. The feeling of my hand on him is driving him wild, and I know he'll do anything I say. As he nears his climax, I lean forward again, pinning him in place with my weight and my arms. "Say it," I growl softly into his ear, my rasping voice sending shivers down his spine. "Say you want to taste yourself on my ass."

He moans, the sound vibrating against my skin. "I want... I want to taste myself on your ass," he whispers, his voice shaky with desire. And with that, I pull my hand away from his cock and push the head of it towards my ass. The warm salty seed spills out over my skin, mixing with the mess of shit and piss and precum. I can tell by the look on his face that he's getting close to orgasming again, so I increase the pressure on his cock, milking him for all he's worth.

Finally, as waves of pleasure wash over him, he erupts once more, spurting more of his cum onto my ass cheeks. I lean back, letting him fall onto the floor, his legs shaking with the force of his orgasm. As he lies there, panting and gasping for air, I stand over him, a smirk playing on my lips. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" I taunt him as I prepare to sit on his face once again.

The slave knows that there's no escape from this. He's at my mercy, and I'm going to use him just the way I want. So he nods weakly, his head throbbing with the aftermath of both his orgasms. "Yes... Madame Marissa," he murmurs, his voice still filled with desperate arousal. And so, our little game continues, with me using his face as my personal seat pad whenever I feel like it... and him, helpless to resist the overwhelming draw of my fetish.