Rosalia Peach, dressed in her slinky black lingerie, stormed into her slave's room with a scowl on her face. She found him lying on the bed, his eyes closed, and his mouth slightly agape. Without a word, she climbed onto the bed and straddled him, pressing her massive peach-shaped ass cheeks against his face.
Her slave opened his eyes wide, shocked at the unexpected encounter. "What are you doing here?" he stammered, feeling her hot breath on his neck.
"I caught you red-handed," she growled, running her fingers through her long, wavy hair. "You were supposed to be taking care of the house, and instead, you were caught lying on your bed."
Her slave tried to squirm away, but she tightened her grip on him, pinning him to the bed. "I'm sorry, mistress," he whimpered, "I couldn't help it."
Rosalia leaned down, her cleavage on full display in her low-cut bra, and planted a kiss on his forehead. "I want you to feel my fart," she whispered seductively.
With that, she positioned her ass directly over his face and let out a long, loud fart. The putrid smell filled the room as she grinded her hips against his face, forcing him to inhale her stinky gas. "That's my fart, slave," she said, her voice dripping with contempt.
Her slave closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the revolting smell, but it was no use. He felt her hot breath on his face as she continued to fart on his face, one after another.
"I think you like it, don't you?" Rosalia taunted, slapping his chest playfully. "You're getting hard beneath me."
She leaned down again, this time kissing him on the lips. The taste of her fart was nauseating, but he couldn't help but reciprocate the kiss, feeling her power over him.
As she rode him, using his face as her personal resting place for her farts, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. This was her slave, and she could do whatever she wanted with him.
Hours passed, and Rosalia finally grew tired of her game. She stood up, her ass still hovering above his face as she admired her handiwork. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood," she laughed, turning around and walking away.
Her slave lay there, panting heavily, his face coated in a thin layer of sweat and fart. He knew he had been humiliated, but he also knew that he couldn't resist her. She was like a drug to him, and every time she used him in this way, he craved more.
Despite his discomfort and embarrassment, he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride knowing that he had been chosen by Rosalia Peach for her perverse amusement.
