Bunghole Banquet (HD 4K MP4)
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Category: Ass Worship
Duration: 19:08
Sponsor: clips4sale
Tags: face sitting,ass eating,ass humiliation,smother,ass squishing moninatrix,fishnet stocking femdom,no air breath control,anal tongue fucking,ass licking,ass slave,living furniture femdom,total submission femdom,full weight facesitting,extreme face sitting,face straddling,breath play domination,slave training humiliatio,chastity and ass worship,ass cleaner slave
Description
The clip begins with the mominatrix, still glistening with the sweat of her previous session, towering over her new bitch. he’s just finished worshipping her fishnet-clad feet—licking, kissing, inhaling the musk of her dominance. but she’s not done with him. not even close. her fishnets, already clinging to the curves of her ass, are a promise of what’s to come. she smirks as she watches him pant, his face flushed with the humiliation of his devotion. “you think you’re done?” her voice drips with amusement. “you’ve only just begun.” she orders him onto the massage table, his movements clumsy with anticipation. the cold leather presses against his skin as she secures his wrists and ankles with chains, ensuring he won’t dare move unless she allows it. a pink blindfold is fastened over his eyes, and pink mittens cover his hands—rendering him utterly helpless, reduced to nothing more than a living piece of furniture. he exists only to serve, to be used, to disappear beneath her. the command: a chair, a cleaner, a slave she leans down, her breath hot against his ear as she whispers, “i hope you’re ready to be my chair… and my dirty ass cleaner.” his body tenses, a mix of fear and desperate arousal. she makes him beg for the privilege, each plea more pathetic than the last. “please, mommy, please make me your chair… please make me your ass cleaner.” the words taste like shame on his tongue, but he knows resistance is futile. she owns him—mind, body, and breath. she orders him to kiss each cheek of her ass, over and over, pressing his lips into the fishnets, the scent of her sweat and power filling his senses. he obeys, his mouth moving in worshipful repetition, his humiliation complete. she pulls herself up using the suspension bar above the table, hovering just out of reach. the open crotch of her fishnets teases him, the promise of her asshole and pussy inches from his face. “sniff it,” she commands. he inhales deeply, the musk of her body overwhelming him. then, without warning, she drops her full weight onto his face. smothered in submission his world goes black. his nose and mouth are sealed against her, his eyes pressed into the damp heat of her pussy, his lips crushed against her asshole. “lick my hole, pig,” she growls. he obeys instinctively, his tongue flicking desperately through the fishnet, tasting the salt of her skin, the tang of her dominance. she rolls forward just enough to let him gasp for air—only to slam back down, cutting off his breath again. “don’t you dare fucking stop just because you can’t breathe.” her voice is cold, unyielding. he’s nothing but a tool, a living toy designed for her pleasure. she shifts, centering her weight directly over his face, her thighs clamping around his head. he squirms, his body betraying his panic as his lungs burn. she doesn’t care. his struggle is music to her ears. “that’s it,” she purrs, grinding down harder. “you were made for this.” face-fucking with authority she finally relents, rolling forward just enough to let him drag in a ragged breath. but there’s no mercy in her voice as she orders him to stick out his tongue-“straight, like a little cock.” he obeys, his tongue rigid, trembling. she begins to ride him, rolling her hips, dragging her open asshole over his tongue before slamming back down, sealing his mouth with her flesh. “don’t you dare pull that tongue back,” she warns, her movements growing faster, more demanding. he’s nothing but a fucktoy now, his face buried between her cheeks, his tongue buried in her ass. she moans as she uses him, her pleasure building with every thrust. “ahhh, keep driving that tongue up my hole. it’s where you belong.” her words are a blade, twisting deeper into his submission. “you’ll never kiss my mouth,” she reminds him, her voice dripping with disdain. “but your lips will be pressed to my asshole every day… and my pussy, if you’re lucky.” the final seal: total ownership as she nears the edge of her pleasure, she straddles his head once more, her legs hanging over the sides of the table. her full weight pins him down, her pussy and ass sealing his face completely. not a molecule of air reaches his lungs. he’s hers—completely, utterly, irrevocably. his struggles are weak now, his body surrendering to the inevitable. she owns his breath, his pleasure, his very existence. the clip ends with her standing, stepping off his gasping, ruined face. she looks down at him, a queen surveying her property. “good boy,” she murmurs, though the words are laced with mockery. he’s not a boy. he’s not even a man. he’s a chair. a cleaner. a slave. and she’s not done with him yet.
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