Two Asses One Face No Air (HD 4K MP4)
Queen Irene and Goddess Obsidian are fresh from a workout, still flushed and sweaty in Their tight little booty shorts, and They've already made the slave worship Their filthy, sweat-soaked socks until it gagged on the stink. Now They want its face. It's cuffed behind its back, blindfolded, collared and leashed, and flat on the floor. Each Goddess holds a wicked riding crop, and it's about to find out how much They enjoy using them.
Queen Irene goes first. She stands over its face and takes Her time, letting it hear Her laughing above it and letting it feel the heat coming off Her before She lowers Her round, perfect ass right down onto it. The damp white shorts are stretched tight across Her cheeks, and She drops Her full weight. Its nose and mouth vanish between Her cheeks and its airways seal shut.
Fifteen seconds. It bucks and kicks against the carpet while She sits there like it's a cushion, wiggling Her hips to get comfortable and grinding Herself deeper over its mouth.
Goddess Obsidian isn't going to let the moment go to waste. She climbs onto its chest in Her sweaty white socks and stands there, the leash chain in one hand and the crop in the other, pressing Her weight down on its ribs every time it tries to heave in air that isn't there. She yanks the collar tight to pull its face harder up into Irene's ass. Then She steps down onto its stomach and grinds Her sock into it until it squirms, and takes the crop across its thighs just to hear the muffled yelp come out from under Irene.
"Did I say you could move?"
When Irene finally lifts off, it's gasping and choking, and it doesn't get to catch its breath.
"Thank Her. Now."
"Thank you Queen Irene for sitting on my worthless face with your perfect ass! Please smother me even longer this time!"
"I can't fucking hear you. How long do you want me to sit on your face with my perfect ass?"
It screams it louder. Still not good enough. Every answer is too quiet, too slow, not grateful enough, and every failure earns the crop. Both Goddesses lay stripe after stripe across its chest, stomach and thighs, laughing at how it jerks and howls, until its body is covered in angry red welts and it's shrieking out its gratitude just to make the whipping stop.
Then it's Goddess Obsidian's turn. She straddles its head, sinks Her sweaty little shorts down over its mouth, and settles in with Her whole weight, knees pinning its head to the floor. Its chest heaves under Her and its cuffed hands claw uselessly at the carpet.
Queen Irene relaxes back on the couch like She's watching TV and props Her bare feet up on it as Her personal foot rest. She crosses Her ankles on its stomach, digs Her heel into its crotch, and flexes Her toes against its boxers while it chokes. Every time its hips jerk from lack of air, She presses down harder and taps the crop against its welts, slow and bored.
"Stop squirming. You're ruining my foot rest."
She counts out loud, lazily, taunting it the whole way through while it thrashes under Obsidian's ass.
"Still breathing? Guess She needs to sit longer."
Every round is longer than the last. Every round it has to beg louder for the next one, and every round the begging gets rejected. Every round the other Goddess finds a new way to use it while it's trapped. She stands on its chest in Her dirty socks, uses its stomach and crotch as a foot rest, drags the leash to pull its face up tighter into the ass sealing it shut, and whips the crop down on welts that are already raw. It never gets a second where only one of Them is using it.
By the end it's buried under a young, sweat-damp ass for seventy full seconds, blind, cuffed, leashed and whipped raw. One Goddess seals its airways shut with Her full weight, the other stands on its body and cracks the crop across its thighs, and it's thrashing on the carpet with two Goddesses fresh from the gym treating its face as a seat, its body as furniture and its breathing as something They hand out when They feel like it.
It only breathes when They decide it's begged well enough.
So far it hasn't.
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