Forced Chastity and Facesitting

Discussion in 'Facesitting & Smother Stories' started by CrushedByCrotch, Dec 13, 2015.

  1. CrushedByCrotch

    CrushedByCrotch New Member

    Sooo, I've never shared a facesitting story here before even though I've dabbled with having written a few.. I guess I just never felt confident enough to post them. But recently, those posts by Milneza and her bf got me to consider the idea of facesitting combined with forced chastity. And well.. that just got my imagination running wild - I feel like it would enhance the experience so much!

    In this story I start by exploring the feelings and consequences of forced chastity and then, in later parts, dive into its use as a tool for subjugation for long, punishing facesits. So yeah .. here we go:

    This hot, mid-summer night was a particularly long one for him. The pain in his crotch was intense. This source of his discomfort, besides the heat, is what she calls “The Trainer” – a bio-resin contraption of indefinite and unrelenting sexual bondage. This cruel device, secured under lock and key, adeptly renders those most essential parts of his own body isolated, inaccessible, and completely removed from his own authority. With this imprisonment, time has become the ultimate punitive instrument. His unforgiving Trainer repeatedly and abruptly relegates him into an agonizing purgatory. One which seems to last longer every time. Now it’s time for another trip into restlessness. There have been 2 previous stymied erections so far tonight since they went to sleep, each one tugging on his swollen, deprived testicles in what seems to be the worst possible way, causing pain to radiate up into his groin. In the dark he grimaces with his eyes tightly shut, curling into a fetal position under the thin sheet. He still has 11 more days to go before he can receive his ridiculously compromised form of relief, but relief none the less. With his back turned to her, she lay undisturbed in a sound sleep – completely ignorant of and honestly indifferent to her boyfriend’s submersion into agony.

    What at first began as a mutually agreed-to sequestration of his genitals, has now become forced permanence in chastity. Remonstrations of his pain and begging pleas to quit are callously disregarded by a girlfriend who quickly got accustomed to the idea of complete control and subjugation. Since surrendering his sex so long ago, his testicles are sentenced to remain laden for a month at time; burgeoning with unreleased lust – cinched in front of a tight resin ring which pulls them forward into a mind-numbing vice grip with every denied erection.

    But for all his pain and frustration he knows he can’t stop thinking about her. The way she teases him. The way she gets off on his denial and frustration. The way she uses him again and again, riding his beleaguered face to climax after climax. In his mind he’s struggling not to remember… not to picture looking through her parted thighs, up, along the length of her stomach and above her jutting breasts – to seeing her face flush, red as a rose, and the pink mottled skin on her shoulders and neck as she leans forward and grips the headboard, eyes closed, mouth agape and panting, about to enjoy a body-racking orgasm over his face.

    In the dark room his breathing gets heavy and a bead of sweat starts on his furrowed brow. His aching groin beckons for relief as intensely as ever. He tries to block out the imagery, but he can’t help but see it again as his nostrils disappear and emerge through passing curtains of glistening labia. He feels her genitals slide up and down heavily over his chin, slipping over his lips and ramming up the bridge of his nose. His sniffling, moaning, and gasping are thoroughly muffled as his face endures pump after pump of her sizable but lithe body. With crystal clear detail, he recalls how her riding thrusts made the back of his cranium sink down into the mattress. In the black silence of the night, as he struggles to control his oncoming erection, his brain goes back to hearing the rhythmic creaking of the stressed bed frame to which his head was made to rock with in time. He stares at the wall, still folded over. The pain in his testicles is unbearable. His fists and teeth clench.

    He lay still with his eyes wide open in the dark and in his mind sees her eyes as they open and look downward to find and lock onto his. After she came, she had scooched herself back slightly and settled down to sit over his mouth, with her crotch pressing lightly against his nostrils. He felt the rest of her weight splurge and settle over the top of his chest, collarbones, and neck as she became still. He’s back in that moment now. Her eyes still holding his as directly and intensely as the ring around his cock, she clamps her thighs tightly around his temples and smirks. She puts her hands on her hips and takes a deep breath before letting out a long, satisfied sigh. Staring down, she tilts her head to a side and begins to smile warmly while she takes a hand off of her hip and runs her fingers gently down through his thick, blonde hair. He feels the cooling sensation of the air in the room starting to wick away the excess moisture from the hot skin around his nose and brow. She listens as he sniffles in air through her crotch. The sniffling tickles her a bit and she reflexively tightens her thighs for a moment as he attempts to inhale. She giggles and she leans forward slightly, but at this opportunity he closes his eyes, breaking her piercing gaze.

    Her smile turns into a much more stern expression as she retorts “HEY! Nuh-uh! OPEN!” She reaches down between her legs and, using her thumbs, drags them up over his squinting shut eyelids and brows while pressing down sharply. “MMMmmph!” He exclaims under her and obliges by opening his eyes and blinking several times. Her hazel brown eyes now hold his hostage while her thighs grip his head with authority to keep him from turning away from this non-verbal reminder of her dominance. His crotch is now sending pangs of pain, shooting with his thumping pulse. He remembers… how she looked down between her legs at him and he felt her eyes dive deep into his – accentuated in their pale blue among the rest of his sweaty, reddened visage. He accepts her dominating, downward stare for several more moments. Satisfied now that her control has been asserted, she tilts her head back and sighs again. She reclines backward and puts her arms on the bed behind her to hold herself up.

    He rustles under the sheet, face in a grimace, trying not to think about it any more. But he can’t help but remember what she had just done to him just that night and so many nights before.

    His mind takes him again back down between her legs as she sits on him, legs tucked in neatly with her bare feet resting calmly just under his shoulders. In a well-rehearsed fashion, she’ll slowly lift up, turn around, and reach back to lightly tickle the taught, shaved skin of his engorged scrotum. He writhes in response to her light touches. She’ll then lean forward and drop down, ass skyward, and take the whole white resin cage bearing his cock into her mouth. He can sense the warmth and wetness but the Trainer prevents him from actually feeling a thing. She’ll draw upon his cage loudly, making smacking sounds with her lips and sliding her tongue all around its smooth surface. At this thought, The Trainer strangulates his scrotum as his penis swells in a desperate bid for escape. But the tenacious resin sheath offers no egress. The pain becomes all he can focus on and gradually his thoughts of the evening’s teasing fade. After a few more agonizing minutes his nighttime erection is stifled back into flaccid defeat. Mercifully, he slips back into a light sleep.


    He awakens to the feeling of something sliding under his wrists. His eyes open to a just a crease. He feels exhausted. The room is beginning to change hue with the pale light of dawn. Something is going on.. she’s astride his chest and leaning over him. His arms are now above his head. Before he can realize what is happening... she cinches the belt down rendering his wrists tightly bound. With the dismal arrival of consciousness, he knows that one of her week-day morning sitting routines is about to begin…

    (more later)
    Michael kaye likes this.
  2. zenonvip78

    zenonvip78 Member

    Great story so far! :D
  3. CrushedByCrotch

    CrushedByCrotch New Member

    Thanks!! :D

    Here is the next part (of which there will probably be 4 total):

    As his eyes open he blinks several times as his blurred vision begins to sharpen. Astride his chest, she is leaning forward with her palms planted on top of her legs, looking down at him. He has obvious bags under his eyes, which seem further recessed into is skull than usual thanks to dark circles of fatigue which surround them. She knows he must have barely slept. “Good morning.” She states in a cheery, yet uncertain fashion. Almost as if she was really asking a question. “Hrrmmm” He moans, with his brow furrowed and lips in a wide frown as he closes his eyes again. He tries to twist his arms but the belt she just used to bind them holds taught, making clicking sounds against the strain, the loops of leather rubbing across one another. She smirks.

    He opens his eyes again and, with his head still propped on his pillow, looks down his body. He is greeted by the wide open legs of his girlfriend, who is sitting casually on top of his chest. She is wearing a familiar pair of tight, charcoal-grey yoga pants which she often uses as pajamas or loungewear around the apartment. His familiarity with them is of a particularly closer nature, but the same can generally be said for most of the other pants in her wardrobe.

    Her knees rest just below the headboard, on either side of his pillow. His eyes drift up her body. She’s topless. Her modest breasts hang down uncompressed and spread apart in their freedom, nipples perked and pointing outward as if they were the only part of her body in a chill. A roll of her soft stomach hangs slightly over the top of her tights’ waistline while she leans directly over him. He continues to look up to her collar bone and milky shoulders – they’re elevated into a shrug with the propping of her arms from her lap, elbows pointing out. Finally he looks under her chin, sees the taught skin around her jaw, up the nostrils of her slender nose and ultimately those captivating hazel brown eyes which peer directly down at him from underneath thick, brown brows. Her complexion appears flawless in the soft morning light with full lips – which are closed, subtle cheek bones, and a slight shimmer on her forehead. Her long, light brown hair hangs down in loose curls over her shoulders but is generally disheveled with a sort of haze of little hairs going off in all directions along the fringes. She hasn’t yet brushed it this morning.

    Her stomach and chest rise and fall slowly with her easy breaths, otherwise she sits motionless. Several minutes pass while she calmly waits for him to come out of his stupor. He notices his ribcage starting to ache under her weight. He is mostly holding his breath to keep his lungs from collapsing from the incessant pressure of her nearly 160 lb body. In between holding his breath as long as he can to support her, he exhales a quick puff of air and immediately strains his diaphragm in a bid to displace her and get back the small parcel of oxygen. She continues to breathe calmly and regularly while watching the strain on his face. He knows his breathing is not likely to get any easier now this morning. She gives a sudden but subtle shudder – a brief tell of her anticipation through her otherwise stolid demeanor.

    He can smell her. Neither had showered from the night before, when they both worked up a decent sweat as she punished his face to reach one orgasm, then another while he languished in his perpetual lust – the snug squeeze of his chastity device persistent through it all. Add a warm night’s sleep and he was inhaling something between a musky scent – the slight body odor from the previous night’s activities, the smell of her unwashed feet which were nearby, but also the pleasant aromas of latent hair conditioner, a hint of a fruity perfume, and above all, that unmistakably unique scent which he knew was hers. Like the scent he would get hit with when he entered her bedroom after being away or when he would open her closet to fetch her whatever she was going to wear while she used him. All of these notes where swirling in his nostrils when he noticed his penis starting to nudge – he’s getting aroused. But it’s not long before he remembers the constant punishment for any arousal; that firm, incessant grip on his privates. Ready to turn any and all erections against him, the Trainer quickly reminds him to dash the thought – or else.

    She twists her torso around to the right and looks toward his feet, sliding back slightly to sit astride his stomach. She reaches back to grab the sheet and she flings it over to the other side of the bed, revealing her boyfriend’s naked lower body. She looks back to inspect that his genitals are still properly contained and verify that this morning should not be the first that he managed to escape his chastity. No, still holding his penis as imprisoned as ever, the Trainer remains attached and irremovable until such a time as she sees fit to unlock it. She tickles the glossy tips of her fingernails gently over his swollen balls. He immediately arches his back and inhales sharply as she does so. Her thighs tighten around his chest, keeping her steady as he squirms underneath her. She turns her head back toward him, fingers still dancing on his scrotum, and smiles as she coyly says “Does that feel nice? Do you really need to cum?”

    The Trainer is starting to tug again, as she coaxes an erection which will only serve to crunch his balls as if they were some grapes contending with the bottom of her feet. Brow furrowed and exhaling loudly, he whimpers as he tries to twist and jerk his hips away from her tickling finger tips, but she follows his scrotum around with ease. “Oh does that bother you?” She says half-heartedly, trying to stifle a laugh.

    She stops tickling, deciding to grab at his sack instead and starts to knead it with her fingers and thumb. He moans loudly with his eyes tightly shut, face contorted into a frown with the pain from the extra compression interrupting all his other thoughts. He tries to bring his arms down but she had remembered to work in a loop of nylon rope through his wrist bindings. This rope was moored to the bed frame below, thereby tethering his hands above his head. Sarcastically she mutters “Hmm.. I guess if you don’t want me touching you, you must not really want to cum.” Knowing full well that there’s no way he could cum anyway in his current containment, she releases his tormented parts and hops forward to sit back down on his chest. He inhales sharply as she plops down without much regard for the force behind the mass of her 5’ 10” frame.

    He looks up at her, eyes pleading. She offers nothing but a vacuous stare in return. He knows this stare – the look which seems to suggest she’s not seeing a person, but a fixture, a thing to be used, something she controlled, something she owned. He can tell that, behind her eyes, there’s the intent to objectify him in a most literal sense. She finally lifts up off of his chest and swings her left leg around to her side of the bed, but then quickly turns around and swings her right leg back over him, so that she is astride him and facing his feet. As she says lifted up on her knees, he is given a full view of her backside. It’s wide, full and rounded. It juts out with a particular defiance at the containment of her grey tights, which leave nothing about its curves to the imagination. He can see the lines of her panties underneath, on either side of her mound-like cheeks. Just outside of the panty lines on her ass are some small divots which hint at the little bit of cellulite underneath the taught fabric, which is hard to exercise out of a bottom as ample as hers even though she’s a fast cyclist and a decent amateur dancer. Her thick, muscular thighs wrap around underneath to support the girth of her bottom. The window to their right near the bed lets in just enough early morning light to illuminate her one side which, along with the shadows, accentuates the curves of her body. Her bare back arches as she turns around to look at him.

    The room is quiet save for the gentle din of the central air fan which runs perpetually without the company of the condenser – she enjoys the hot, balmy air which counters her inexplicable ability to feel cold when others might be pouring sweat. Also floating in above the silence now are intermittent chirps of some sparrows heard through the cracked windows. She takes one hand and pulls her long tangles of hair behind one shoulder to clear her view of his upturned, exposed face. She then leans back while stretching the other arm to grab one side of the pillow his head is resting on. With a swift yank she jerks it out from under his head, which hits the mattress with a dull thud while the rudely-removed pillow topples off the other end of the bed. She leans back over forward, onto her hands and backs herself up, dragging her knees up and next to his stretched torso. He watches from below while her bottom yawns open as she bends over, then sways slightly left, then right, as it approaches slightly.

    He isn’t going to move... they both know if he resists he’ll probably never get to cum again. He stares at her wide bottom which looms over him… he thinks about how she withholds his key, how he must accept this if the lock is to open again as soon as possible. He has to give her every reason to turn it, to prove he earned it. Even though he knows that in the next moment her ass will consume his face with efficacy, absurdly claiming it as a seat despite the obvious mismatch in its capacity to accommodate a bottom such as hers. But he’ll have to find a way and endure it, like he always does…

    Michael kaye likes this.
  4. snowpresto

    snowpresto Member

    wow, great so far, you have no worries about being confident with your stories, this is great
  5. CrushedByCrotch

    CrushedByCrotch New Member

    Great! Glad you like it. Here is the next part. An intense bout of prolonged facesitting lay ahead for the poor, forcibly chaste boyfriend:

    The next time he’ll see this room it will probably have gone from dimly-lit to awash with the bright light of morning. He watches without making a sound as she turns away and lowers her bottom over his face. Suddenly, his vision is filled with her descending ass and the room goes dark. Her ass contacts his face and, in an instant, every square millimeter forward of his ears is covered. His head retreats into the mattress until it can give no more and the rest of the burden is charged to him. His girlfriend sits down fully as her ass engulfs his visage and comes to settle just above his chin and over his forehead. His nose is pressed flat into his face. The bones of her bottom have mercifully settled above his brow and are not digging into his eye sockets at the moment, as could have been the case. He feels as she brings her knees up, one at a time, and places them on top of his shoulders, which helps to relieve a bit of the weight over his mouth. Her crotch is resting over his chin but he can stretch his jaw just enough to breathe. She tucks her feet in close to his head. Her heels press lightly into the sides of her bottom.

    He feels as she places an open hand on his sternum. She stays still for a moment. Her weight shifts from side to side slowly and then his head shakes with her bottom as she wiggles it a couple times to settle into his face. The force behind the heel of her palm on his chest increases a bit and now the weight on his face rolls forward. He can open his eyes again but now his mouth is completely blocked. He resists the urge to panic as he opens his eyes only to see the grey, stretched fibers of her soft tights mere millimeters from his pupils. The fine detail of her pants’ crisscrossing pattern of the fibers fades away quickly over what could only be called the horizon of her burgeoning behind, which entirely eclipses his view of the room above. Between his eyes, the bridge of his nose disappears immediately under the wall of ass. He feels her damp warmth cramming down on his nose, cheeks, and mouth underneath the dark grey mass in front of his eyes. She drags something cold and rigid over his left thigh, and then up his stomach. The cold, unexpected touch makes him flinch. It feels smooth and metallic. There’s a light scraping sound as it slides over the protruding lock of his penis-filled Trainer, which lay on top of his testicles pointing downward toward his feet. His vision goes dark again as her bottom rolls back down and her weight moves back over the top of his face somewhat. Her hand leaves his sternum. She now brings her shins up closer together, resting them completely on top of his chest. If she were to decide to kneel up now, her kneecaps would pile into his diaphragm. The cold metallic feel is suddenly removed from his stomach. He feels as her weight rolls all the way back to where it was before and he can once more extend his jaw to what mostly-obstructed air supply he can access under her vagina. He wastes no time acting to inhale. He hears a click, followed by another little shake of her bottom with which his face is forced to rock along. Then, he hears a high-pitched whirring nose which he instantly recognizes as the sound of her laptop hard drive spinning up.

    He knows his face is in for a prolonged use here. She, being cognizant of that fact as well, sits on his face in this fashion with her knees on his chest that he can manage to breathe, albeit with difficulty. As a regional manager for a retail store chain, she receives hundreds of emails a day. Responding to just those which arrived overnight – even this early in the morning – is never less than an hour affair, which requires more than a casual focus. Having to pay attention to her boyfriend’s oxygen supply every other minute would naturally interrupt that focus too often. Now, that’s not to say that she never subjects him to bouts of breath control when she decides to break her concentration for a few minutes. But she hardly lacks discipline. When it’s time for work, it’s time for work and not playing with her seat. So she sits like this to remain unobligated, ergo focused, for long periods of time. Depending on how productive she feels she may also decide to reward herself after. More often than not of course, this reward is issued by her seat as well.

    For the moment, though, they both try to relax and settle in. It won’t be long however, until this seemingly manageable position she is in now starts to wear on him. Already he’s starting to notice the pressure on his eyes. He estimates how a couple minutes should have already passed… “Okay..” he thinks to himself. “This isn’t bad so far. If she’s going to take an hour then that means I’m… 1/30th of the way there.” he reasons. “So that just means 29 more of this amount of time which has already passed and it’ll be over… ok… I can get through this.” Under her, these math games are all he can try to do to push through the taxing crucible of being steadily sat on by his impassive girlfriend for such a long time.

    On the other end of the spectrum, minutes pass briskly for the sitter as she dives into the day’s correspondence, getting a jump on the tasks which await her today at work. She’ll gradually forget what she’s even sitting on at all – noticing only on those occasions when she feels him squirm a bit, or whimper, to which her only response will be a quick smile and a hiccup of a laugh before her mind promptly returns to her job.

    She manages to stay relatively still with her laptop on her lap while only her sounds and some slight little motions make it down to her seat to indicate she’s still busy working. He has grown accustomed to what being her task chair feels like. A light shift of weight to a side and clicking noise usually means she just checked her phone. A quick shimmy on his face is often just her repositioning her laptop… or maybe his nose. Occasionally her knees will shift around to several locations on top of his chest, until she finds the next comfortable position and then keeps them planted for another spell of time. While she sits still on him he’ll tune into to the cadence of her rapid key presses followed by the intermittent periods of silence that get folded in, during which she might crack her knuckles as she thinks, before starting in on another flurry of keystrokes.

    But invariably, the occupation of discerning all of these un-seeable actions will get tiring as the aches in his face and arms continue to intensify. As she stays seated, he’ll start to feel parts of his face and body go numb. His nose and cheeks are typically the first to go under the incessant pressure. His jaw will come to ache with a dull and steady soreness from the awkward motions it must make to get at the oxygen which is otherwise unavailable under her smothering ass. His arms, crossed and tethered above his head, are actually often the first body parts to loose feeling before the discomfort on his face becomes the more distressing feeling. The repeatedly-looped leather belt cutting into his wrists serves as the only reminder that his arms are still up there.

    “Ok.. “ he begins to think to himself again. “That has to be about… 20 minutes.. I think? So just 2 more of those and she’ll probably be getting pretty close to being done.” The pressure, heat and discomfort pour over him as incessantly as ever while he tries to figure some more to keep his mind occupied. “Alright in 5 more minutes that will be 25 minutes total which is …30 divided by 5 is.. 6.. so that’s 5/6ths of a half hour… so I’d be 5/12ths of the way for a full hour… I guess I could just count out 5 minutes… which is 300 seconds and… and I’d be there… 1...2…3…4…5…6…7…” He doesn’t get very far on his way to 300 before the miserable stress of his situation makes him lose his count.

    He takes stock of what his body is feeling; drawn out and pinned down on top of his girlfriend’s bed with his face collapsing under her odiferous and oppressive ass. His genitals are snugly encapsulated inside of a locked container which tugs on his ball sack. He feels the Trainer’s authoritative grip – steady as always – between his legs. The feeling lasts at all times – a persistent reminder of its presence and his complete inability to do anything about it. Punctuating this fact is the dominating girlfriend sitting on his face unapologetically, submerging it into a dark, abyssal well of pressure, heat, and numbness. The incessant load of her 160 lb body is a fitting analogy to the never-ending squeeze of the Trainer. It’s there to stay and it won’t go away until SHE decides it’s over – not him.

    He realizes that his Trainer has done much more than to usurp control of his sexual release by this point. It has come to give his girlfriend dominion over his entire body. He notices the moisture on the warm, sweat-soaked sheet under his neck and back. His face is hot and prickly. Dim, interlocking loops of colors form a tessellation and hurriedly approach his eyes in the darkness, as if he were travelling down an infinite tunnel. He knows that if he really tried, he could buck, twist, and roll to unseat her and end this suffering. But he can’t bring himself to revolt, to un-plant her even though it might be possible.

    He thinks about her lithe body as he beheld it in the morning light. He remembers her beautiful face, contorted in the throes of pleasure. He can see her shaved pussy, slick with his saliva among her natural wetness, hovering above his parted lips as his tongue slides in and out, up and down between her labia. He thinks about how he’ll strain his tongue and flick at her clitoris, which makes her utter a quick gasp while she simultaneously lifts herself just a little on her knees to get her clit out of range of the tip of his tongue, while he returns to licking her elsewhere. Through the cacophony of pain on his face, the Trainer comes through to warn that the erection which is coming on with these thoughts will not go unpunished. He just wants her so badly. He wants to feel himself release and her to be the one to bring him there. Even though she’s smashing his face into oblivion right now, he doesn’t want to risk losing that chance, that promise of reward for his obedience.

    But he’s just in so much pain. It simultaneously doesn’t feel worth it. He just wants her to stop so he can breathe the air again. He wants to feel his arms and the agony on his face to subside. The constancy of this discomfort is unreal. He feels the pulse in his temples continue with a metronomic thumping. The Trainer is winning its bid, like always, to deny his erection. He feels utterly helpless and hopeless. All of these physical feelings and emotions stir inside is head, which remains solidly weighed down into the mattress, her wide ass almost completely removing it from sight were it not for red ears behind several folds of skin which intimated there was indeed a cushion she was using. Each minute grinds on like an eternity.

    The only thing he can do – the summation of all he is experiencing and enduring, everything he needs, wants, or can’t figure out – Is to emit a long, exasperated moan up into the depths of her ass.

    She had wedged her upturned toes under his forearms a while ago, which felt pleasantly warm to her. Hearing his moan, she subconsciously scrunches her toes a few times. The clammy skin of their pads rubs under his forearms, which stay put in their tethered restraint. Her eyes stay fixed on the screen, its glow casting faint blue light onto her upper body. He waited after her toes rubbed his arm, but such was the entirety of the acknowledgement he received for his muffled expression of torment. Her toes return to stillness and shortly he hears the next bout of staccato keystrokes as she composes her next message.

    She sniffles and clears her throat. The typing continues without incident. Her bottom stays planted on his face, unabated by his melancholy bid for relief. She looks at the clock on the task bar. She’s been at it for close to 50 minutes. She looks at the tower of bolded subject line texts above where she currently is. “35 unread messages to go.” she reads to herself as she exhales with a shallow sigh. “Ok.. I can probably knock that out in about… 30-45 minutes?” A few more minutes pass and she clicks the ‘Send’ button. Shortly after starting the next reply she stops to mash the backspace button for a string of typos. She starts to wonder if it might be time for a break.

    Her senses suddenly alert her to the frustrated squirming of her seat. She looks down, parting her thighs slightly to the see the depressed neck in front of her crotch. She feels as he opens his mouth under her to seek oxygen, his lips gently brushing the soft material around her groin as his jaw stretches beyond the airless expanse of her seated ass. His warm breath passes over her pussy. She scrunches her toes again. She looks at his Adam’s apple as it slides up and down from him swallowing. She decides it is indeed time for a break.

    (Next part I think we might see the cock-locked boyfriend go from enduring callous facesitting to full-on smothering. But will the emails ever get finished?? [hint: probably] Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say!! :eek::eek::eek::))
    Michael kaye likes this.
  6. snowpresto

    snowpresto Member

    Great a new episode! I love the detailed thoughts the seat is experiencing under her.
  7. karlsburg2000

    karlsburg2000 Member

    Great story! Thanks for posting. Wonderful how she wears him down with her body weight. I know a woman who does this and it has always been a fantasy for me. I look forward to your next instalment.
  8. CrushedByCrotch

    CrushedByCrotch New Member

    Hey y'all.. sorry I forgot to continue this! Got pretty busy! Anyhow, here is that next part I was talking about:

    She lifts the computer from her lap and parts her legs until her knees come down onto the bed on either side of her boyfriend’s torso. She lay the laptop down to her left, near the pillow on her side of the bed. As she does so, some bright light catches her eye and she looks out through the parted curtains adjacent to the bed. The dawn has broken and yellow-orange rays of sunshine are peering through the oak trees from above the horizon. She straightens herself and rests her hands on top of her thighs for several moments as she gazes out the window, watching the break of day.

    All the while underneath her though, her seat – who knows nothing of this new sunrise to behold – has begun to suffocate. He felt as she dropped her knees from his chest, her weight rolled forward a bit to depress his chin and seal his mouth. Everything stayed dark, hot, and aching – but now his oxygen supply was casually revoked. His whole face is plunged into her ass while she sits there, in deep stillness, her attention fixed on something far away. In his obedience, he remains quiet and attempts to endure the impromptu smothering as best he can while she enjoys something unknown to him, as if this gorgeous sunrise was a secret he wasn’t allowed in on. After all, his servitude as a seat affords him very little to perceive. Untold experiences may come and pass for his sitter; meanwhile he is only given a prolonged look into inscrutable darkness.

    Her upturned feet are still tucked in snugly next to the back of his head. Everything is motionless in the narrow space between her bottom and her toes – where his upturned head is firmly sandwiched – as she looks outside, breathing calmly and inaudibly. His lungs begin to tighten noticeably. The sky looks clear save for a few light wisps of clouds. She reasons that it’ll be a nice day. Birds are chirping more nosily now outside. The din of the central fan continues as it had been all night.

    The burning sensation in her boyfriend’s chest soon starts him to writhing. She turns her head quickly now, away from the window, as if the distraction made her suddenly come to from a day-dreamy stupor. She stares down to the prone chest and stomach between her parted thighs. His knees are rocking back and forth in his discomfort. The Trainer holding his penis flops lazily from side to side as his knees and hips roll.

    She smiles as she closes her eyes, lifts her arms above her head, and inhales deeply while arching her back in a deep stretch before gently lifting her ass up off of his face for the first time in nearly an hour. He immediately gasps and heaves as he recovers from the bout of asphyxia. He feels the cooling rush of air with the long-awaited relief of pressure and opens his eyes. He can’t see anything immediately but the looping colors he had previously been seeing in the darkness. The colorful tessellations continue to dance in front of him against a light haze which is all he can make of the room – which is now much brighter than when he had seen it last – as he waits to regain his vision. His face is mostly numb save for the general feeling of pins and needles on his cheeks, forehead, and nose, not to mention all along the length of his arms.

    She scooches forward a bit, still astride him. He squints and blinks several times. Now exposed, he looks a sight. His hair is greasy and disheveled. His wrists remain crossed above his head where the matte black loops of a leather belt wrap around them. His fingers curl inward to his palms in a kind of relaxed resignation. The undersides of his arms on either side of his head are markedly pale while his hands look several shades darker, squeezed between the bindings. His arms feel very sore and are full of icy-hot prickles everywhere beyond of his shoulders.

    Down from his chin he can now make out the blurry mass of her butt hanging above his chest, her legs open in a split and standing up on her knees. The seat of her pants is sodden with a dark stain of sweat. His nose makes sniffling noises as it tries to take in air and re-gain its shape. He catches a few whiffs of the musky smell her ass has left on his face. “Is.. is she finally done?” He wonders to himself.

    His huffing and puffing continue for a few more moments while she pivots her upper body around to observe all what she has done to him. Specifically, she makes an assessment of how well her indentured boyfriend’s face had weathered the past hour with her on top of it. His reddened, sweaty cheeks and forehead, misshapen nose, and watery eyes certainly tell of their experience being sat on. Nevertheless, without any obvious signs of blood or swelling, there’s no worry that she has broken her seat just yet. He may look tired, but she knows he can take more – which is just as well because she still has plenty of work to do when she sits back down. Though, not before having a little fun with him, she decides.

    Still looking back at him, she surreptitiously waits for his vision to clear enough that he can see her backside in front of him. Watching him as he blinks and gazes up at her behind, she takes her fingers and slowly draws them up the back of her thighs, then up and over her round ass cheeks until she stops, hands behind her back, and hooks her thumbs down under the waistband of her grey yoga pants. It looks as if she may be about to pull them down… but she doesn’t, opting instead to keep her thumbs there while she waits for his gaze to find hers.

    The rounded mounds of her bottom jut out in front of him. The wet tights are stretched taught across the crevice of her wide ass and spread legs. The moisture stain extends across the entire bottom half of the seat portion to just inside her inner thighs and behind her pussy. His blurry vision finds her head way above him as she looks back at him. She turns away after he squints at her for a moment, blinking and panting, trying to find her eyes as if about to inquire whether or not she were actually done. But then, his eyes quickly widen as they shift to behold her bottom which is now approaching again as she slides her knees back toward his head. Her ass is just above his chin now, her thumbs are still hooked under the waistband of her pants. He begins to inhale with an alarmed gasp, anticipating that he might lose his air supply again in the next instant. He begins to take a deep breath to prepare, but she instead opens her legs into a wide split, dropping her crotch onto his neck, while swiftly pulling her tights and panties down from her ass and drawing them back and down over his nose and mouth. His deep breath is suddenly taken through a screen of stretchy, damp material as she pulls the pants down over his forehead. His jaw slips into the crevice of her naked ass as he opens it to suck air, drawing the fabric down slightly into his wide-open mouth and then pushing it out again with a puff of an exhale.

    As he lay there trying to pull air through her sweaty tights and underwear, he feels as the balls of her feet brush up against the sides of his head and then press inward. He feels the sharp pain of his hair being pulled as she forcefully wedges her big toes, then a couple adjacent toes under his cranium. She scrunches them a few times to pull them further under, which tugs on his hair even more. With her feet now wedged to her satisfaction, she stays sitting astride his throat, arms straight down behind her back, steadily holding the stretchy, odor-laden garments over his face. She listens to the wooshing sounds his breathing makes as he draws air back and forth through the fabric. She holds him here for several moments. He can taste every bit of her sweaty bottom now as the ass-flavored air rushes around his tongue with each breath.

    He’s now starting to feel light-headed and dizzy from her weight pressing on his throat, which is more and more forthcoming as her stretching muscles enable her to sink into a deeper split. She soon hears him wheezing as he weakly inhales through the clothing. She feels a slight push of his adam’s apple under her crotch as he attempts to swallow with her on top of him, to little success. His heels begin a twitchy sliding on top of the bedsheets as his dizziness intensifies. The looping colors are back in front of his eyes again as he stares up at nothing but taught grey fibers while she slowly chokes him out with her groin.

    His eyes are watering and he moans, his pulse throbs in his temples. He tries to take another deep breath through the musky fabric while she continues to hold it there. Her taste and smell permeate his mouth and nostrils. He continues to writhe under her as she presses into his neck, his covered face just shy of entering her ass right in front of it. After he makes a few more garbled choking noises, the fabric is suddenly pulled off his face as she tugs her pants back up over her butt and hips and lets them go with an audible snap as they re-attach around her waist. Mercifully, she brings her knees inward a bit and comes up off his neck to un-collapse his trachea. He coughs several times into her rear which is still just over his chin. The reprieve doesn’t last long however, as he watches through watery eyes while she claps her hands on her ass cheeks in front of him and then pulls them apart with her long fingers. He can barely fathom the gaping maw of her open ass because with the next instant, she drops her bottom straight back down onto his face, quickly letting her weight splurge as she buries his mouth and nose in as deep as they will physically go.

    There’s no way for him to breathe. He attempts to inhale but his wide-open jaw is pressed down into his neck which is completely inundated with her heavy bottom. She rests her open hands on his pecs to support herself while she keeps her legs wide open to pile her weight down onto her boyfriend’s beleaguered face. He can’t tilt his head back to get his nose out from under her as she sits too heavily for him to just slide out. Her toes still cradle his head on either side. He feels as she pushes the balls of her feet into the back of his head to drive him further into the dark, airless prison. He immediately begins to squirm and moans into her stifling behind. Her jutting ass curves up and away from his face just below his eyes, so he can gaze upon the fleshy mounds under which he is being asphyxiated. She moves her hands to either side of his ribcage as she watches, giggling audibly, as his heels slide up and down over the bedsheets. The Trainer flops around as it is jostled by the jerking of his hips.

    He looks up as his eyes roll backward. The room is much brighter now beyond her swampy bottom, but he could care less now what the room looks like while the woman on top of him rescinds his oxygen supply by cramming his face into her burgeoning behind. He feels his nose and mouth pressed utterly flat under the warmth and heaviness of her ass. He starts so heave and jerk from side to side as panic sets in again, heels now stomping on the mattress. “MMMmmMMM! MMMmmMMMMM!!” He exclaims into her rear as he writhes. She rides along for his bucking and shifting. Her bottom moves around with his effort, but it stays confidently planted on top of his face, denying his access to air with efficacy. His tugs at his restraints and the bed frame groans with his bucking. She feels his heart racing as she lightly grips his chest, feeling his jaw slide around under her in futility. Just then she lifts herself up to allow him a few breaths.

    He had barely enough time to recover before her ass returned to torture him some more. Before she could sit, he turned his head to the side again in a bid to extend his parole from the smothering. His nose presses into the arch of her foot as he continues to gasp from his mouth.

    “HEY!” She barked, acting offended he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. “Come on, put your face up.” He keeps his head turned firmly to the side as he shakes it briefly, still panting into the bottom of her foot. “Put your face back where it belongs!” He closes his eyes tightly and continues to refuse her command. The thought of more suffocation for him outweighs the less urgent fear of having his cum withheld even longer for his disobedience. “Put it back!” she says. He winces and lets out a blubbery moan while keeping his head turned away.

    Suddenly, a lightning bolt of shooting pain zooms from his testicles out to the rest of his body as she grabs them and clenches them firmly. The shooting pain causes him to shout in agony. “Put your face up!” she yells as she tightens her grip. His face in a grimace, he quickly turns it back up center to face the underside of her broad bottom which hovers ominously just an inch or so above his nose. She promptly sits down again to resume his smothering, her ass welcoming him back inside as it takes his face out of sight. She doesn’t immediately release her grip on his balls – she keeps squeezing them as she wriggles her butt on top of him to get him in place, and again brings her feet close to his head to keep him neatly contained under her.

    Again able to watch while her ass asphyxiates him, he tugs at his wrist restraint. The belt makes more clicking sounds as the leather surfaces slip past one another, cinching together tightly. His feet soon go back to slipping around the top of the bed. She looks at his Trainer now and starts breathing through her mouth as she watches the securely-imprisoned penis, held snug against his testicles, flop up and down with the bouncing of his duress. His lungs feel as if they are in a blast furnace. His diaphragm spasms repeatedly as it attempts to draw air in futility through her well-planted bottom. She feels his twitching jaw and nose pressing deep under her. Hands still on his chest, she again feels the quickening pace of his heart thumping under his ribcage. “MMmm.. MMmmMMM.. MMMMMMMM!!” She hears him complain again as she squeezes his head deep into her bottom with her feet. She juts her chest out and exhales slowly with her eyes closed.

    After sitting a little longer, feeling the tickly vibration out of his mouth under her, and listening to the thoroughly-muffled cries which resulted, she slowly lifts herself off of his face once more. In so doing, she is immediately assailed by loud, heaving moans while his chest rises and falls frenetically. His legs fall still again. “Whatsa matter, baby? You don’t like it down there?” She says with a playful facetiousness. He whimpers as he continues to pant heavily. She stays propped up with her hands pressing down on his chest. She turns her head toward her shoulder, but doesn’t look back as she says “You should just relax.. you know why?“

    He watches with a furrowed brow and wide frown through a still-agape mouth as he inhaled one more quick breath before her ass dropped again to bury him. From beyond her sweaty bottom which had re-consumed his face he hears “Shhhhhhhhh…” she calmly shushes him, as if the tortuous suffocation was nothing he should worry about. She continues, her head still turned slightly to her side “…Because breathing is a lot like you getting to cum after a few weeks in chastity.” Behind his head her toes and the balls of her feet wedge back in place to increase the pressure of her bottom on his nose and mouth. “Since YOUR dick is in MY Trainer, you can’t cum until I let you… but if you’re good… if you’re good I’ll let you out of your little cage so we can empty those sore balls of yours!” She reaches an arm around her back and grabs a tuft of hair on the top of his head. “But you know, it’s really the same for air.” She says, giving his head firm yank up into her backside with her hand full of hair. He winces under her with his face so compacted into her ass he can barely concentrate on what she’s saying. “You only breathe because I let you, actually.. I think you forget that sometimes.” He can’t see anything now as his face is brutally rammed up into her bottom. In his mouth he can still taste the air she had made him breathe, full of her smells down here where she was keeping him. She continues to say, “So if you want your air back, you have to be good and stay still. Because if you are.. I’ll let you out of my ass and you can fill those aching lungs of yours!” While finishing the sentence, she starts to wiggle her bottom from side to side on his face. “You’d really like that, wouldn’t you??” She giggles with her mouth closed in a grin, still rubbing her ass on his face. She lets his hair go and relaxes her clenched muscles a bit as resumes sitting normally, knowing he’s pulled in as far as she could get him. “I’m gonna’ train your lungs to be as patient as your balls!” she says, slapping his chest a few times with her open palm. She smiles and gives a demure “Hmmm” while she waits for his air to start running out again.

    He attempts to keep his body still as best he can while she smothers him all the authority she had usurped to do so. It’s not long before the tightness returns in his chest. His face aches intensely as she sits on it with impunity. He crosses his ankles trying not to thrash in a panic again. He hears his pulse in his ears. Her ass continues to press him. It’s becoming unbearable again. He tries counting in his head but he can’t track more than a few seconds before he attempts to reflexively inhale with no success. His mind races and his fists clench as he waits for her to give him relief. He can’t help himself as he starts to writhe and buck again. She stays seated with a callous patience. Just when he thinks he’s not able to take it one second longer, the pressure behind her feet relents and her wet ass finally lets go of his face. He immediately gasps, coughing this time, as he gulps at the air.

    “Better… Not great.. But better”. She says, in a kind of sardonic praise. He pays little mind, though, while he continues gasping and heaving with his head turned back into one of her feet. His face is beet red and eyes are bloodshot and watery. She pulls her foot away from the hot breath coming from his mouth and she brings it in front of her, planting it on the edge of the bed. She pulls the other foot away from his head as she begins to stand. She rises up completely to stand on top of the bed and stretches a moment before stepping to the inside of the bed, then turning her body around and stepping back astride his hips, facing him.

    Between her ankles as she stands over him, his encapsulated penis lay still, drifting up and down slightly with the deep rising and falling of his chest and stomach. He continues panting while his blood oxygen levels return from the brink of blackout. She looks down at him, her hands on her hips. His hot, sweaty face, teary eyes, and slackened jaw look utterly defeated as he lay there with his hands tied above his head. All this the result of sitting on him for a while.

    From below, he looks up at her; her long, filled-out body standing over his as if she were posing in victory of his subjugation. He looks at her thick legs in her grey yoga pants which she had used to smother him so harshly. Her breasts also seem to jut proudly from her topless chest. Her long hair falls around her beautiful face, where hazel eyes stare into his. Her supple lips turned up into a smile. Her hands start sliding down her hips and she bends forward.

    Her tights and underwear are sliding down with them.


    (still to be continued)
    assface84 and Michael kaye like this.
  9. Had not been here for a while, and I am glad to come across your story. Great work, I can't wait to see more
  10. FacesitVN

    FacesitVN Ultraviolent maniac

    Really, REALLY great story man. Cannot WAIT for the full on bare fat arse smothering.
  11. Sauur

    Sauur Well-Known Member

    Wow now this is a story! So descriptive and well written - awesome job!
  12. bcted

    bcted New Member

    Very nice to discover this after being away from the site for a long time. Excellent story!
  13. slave 456

    slave 456 New Member

    slave caged 456 is absolutely desperate to serve a Goddess in this manner.
    constantly plugged or dildo'd,forced to be plugged in public,forced long term chastity and forced to wear a permanent collar.
    this is the life slave caged craves for,absolute total control by a superior Goddess.
    Michael kaye likes this.
  14. Michael kaye

    Michael kaye New Member

  15. Slackjaw

    Slackjaw Member

    Wow. This is incredible. Don't know how I missed it the first time...

Share This Page

  1. This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
    By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.
    Dismiss Notice