Betrayal Pt. 04

Hell was about to start. I could tell from the evil smirk on her face.

The familiar smell of Sylvia's bottom permeated my nostrils as she took up position. Two voluminous buttocks hovered just above my petrified face.

'We've got a lot to catch up on,' she informed me sternly. 'You shouldn't have tried to get away.'

There was nothing I could do. I could hardly move. My breath snorted through my nose in short bursts. All the struggling I'd done, combined with the moisture from my assailants and my own stifled breath had loosened the tape securing my mouth and head. But I could only move a fraction more than before.

'My bum and your face were just made for each other,' she happily told me, brushing my nose against her anal crease. 'You were born to be my smother slave.'

I futilely tried to turn away from her aggressive posterior, from the humiliation of her bottom rubbing into my face. She was revelling in what she putting me through. I knew she enjoyed tormenting me like this, playing with me like I was just there solely for her pleasure and amusement.

Experience told me to inhale deeply whenever she toyed with me in this position. She was ready to pounce and if I timed it right I'd last longer before the intense suffocation agony started.

She made as if to sit down and I inhaled as much as I could and held it. She giggled, massaging my nose-tip between her cheeks. I kept holding it. She kept on rubbing, and I lay there just waiting for her to sit on me. But she remained wavering her bum in my face, teasing me.

Then she took so long after a time I had to exhale and the second I did she sat down, her backside submerging my face. Straight away I wanted to breathe, needed to breathe, but she played it exactly as she wanted it.

She settled herself, wriggling a bit until my nose entered her anus, while her damp crutch covered my taped mouth. It was just how she loved it.

'Your breathing belongs to me again,' she panted; wriggling a bit more to enjoy the pleasure it gave her. 'We're together again and I can sit on you just like we used to.' My body was wracked in painful oxygen deprivation. Every nerve in me ached from this perpetual agony.

How can you wake up from a nightmare if you're not asleep?

She'd purposely positioned herself on my face so I could see her mountainous buttocks squashing down on me, relentlessly suffocating me. She liked to emphasise that I was completely and utterly helpless and that I was totally at her mercy. But I knew her of old and she had no mercy, no compassion.

I saw her face peeking down at me. All gleeful and happy. How can someone so beautiful be so sadistic? My eyes pleaded with those beautiful eyes of hers, all sparkly and bright, twinkling down at my plight. She was gloating in my misery.

Then she turned to Demetria, who had recovered from her intense orgasm, and they started to chat. While they talked Sylvia continued to sit on me, crushing my face with her prominent bottom, as if I was a mere seat, a comfortable place to sit.

I was as near to Hades as anyone could dread to be. My restricted movements amused them both and they laughed whenever my struggles grew absolutely desperate.

Very occasionally Sylvia deigned to shift her bum on my face and I could just about manage to snort in some lifesaving air.

'How long have you been into face sitting?' Demetria asked, interested.

'For as long as I care to remember,' Sylvia replied, sounding pleased she had a protégé. 'I started by hiring men to do it to but I thought why should I have to pay for it when I can get it for free.'

They both laughed at that.

'I always used to have fantasies about suffocating a man,' confided Demetria. 'But because I went into the police service quite early on I couldn't practise doing it as much as I would have wanted.'

'Besides,' Sylvia chatted on, 'it can still be quite difficult for us women to fulfil our needs in this day and age. Sometimes I think it's still a man's world.'

She contemptuously wiggled her bottom on my face, smiling down at my arduous position. My bloodshot eyeballs were beginning to pop out like a gargoyle's. Just the faintest of hisses escaped from my nose for a second as I took in some air, then just as quickly she cruelly cut off my supply again.

'Will you teach me everything there is to know about suffocating men?' Demetria asked earnestly.

'Of course, my dear,' Sylvia answered, shifting about, forcing my nose to rub against her sensitive anus. 'It is an art form. I'll show you how you can keep a man for hours just on the brink of passing out.'

I knew from past experience she was more than capable of doing that. She'd done it to me often. I'd learned quite a bit about her over the time she'd kept me as her slave. She used to chat to me a lot whilst torturing me. She was a Baroness, a wealthy woman from Latvinia. She'd moved to this country a few years ago and quickly moved up the social scales. Important people were her friends, mostly successful businesswomen and female politicians and some high-ranking officials.

'It's fascinating just watching you at work,' Demetria chuckled.

I was struggling again as the agonising quest for air and survival took its toll. They both laughed again.

'Did you know our fetish is becoming more and more popular with women?' Sylvia told her. 'There are female doctors, judges and even politicians who enjoy sitting on men's faces.'

'Is that so?' Demetria replied, interested. 'I know there is even a high ranking policewoman who likes suffocation.'

'I'd like to meet her,' Sylvia said.

'I will arrange it,' Demetria agreed.

Every time Sylvia allowed my nose to take in some air I was sniffing her anus. Now, as her bottom manoeuvred to let me minutely inhale, another familiar smell wafted into my senses. It was the smell of her excitations.

The next stage of hell was about to begin.