Young Mistress Choke 123
As the door to the plush, dimly lit chamber creaked open, Mistress Tiffany stepped in, her heels clicking on the polished wooden floor. Her presence filled the room with an aura of power and dominance that sent shivers down the spine of her small slave. He knelt before her, head bowed in submission, his heart racing as he awaited his Mistress's command.
Tiffany was dressed to impress, her form-fitting latex dress hugging her voluptuous figure like a second skin. Her high heels added inches to her already impressive stature, making her seem towering over her submissive. She held a cigarette between her long, manicured fingers, the smoke wafting up towards the ceiling as she took a slow drag.
With a mischievous glint in her eye, Mistress Tiffany approached her slave, who trembled with anticipation. She placed her right foot on his shoulder, forcing him to the floor on all fours. She then brought her left hand down sharply, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pulling him closer. His face was now level with her cigarette, and she could feel his hot breath on her skin.
"You're going to be my ashtray today, slave," she purred, her voice like silk and steel. Without further explanation, she flicked the ash from her cigarette onto his face, leaving a trail of burn marks across his cheek. His eyes widened in fear and excitement as he realized what was about to happen.
Mistress Tiffany leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear. "You're going to love this, my little one," she whispered before pressing the cigarette against his lips. The heat seared his skin as he felt the harsh tobacco taste against his tongue. She pulled back slightly, still holding the cigarette between his lips, and blew a stream of smoke directly into his face.
As he struggled to breathe through the cloud of smoke, Mistress Tiffany slowly exhaled, her warm breath caressing his neck. Her grip tightened on his shirt, choking him subtly as she held his head still. Her other hand reached up, covering his mouth and nose with her palm, cutting off his air supply completely. The room grew hazy around him as he tried to suck in air, his vision blurring from lack of oxygen.
"You're going to prove how useful you are to me, slave," Mistress Tiffany whispered into his ear. She pulled the cigarette away from his lips, exposing his tongue to the burning ember. He could feel the heat of the cigarette against his tongue, but he couldn't move or scream with her hand over his mouth. Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt the smoke fill his lungs.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Mistress Tiffany released her hold on him. Gasping for air, he collapsed onto the floor, coughing and wheezing. His Mistress stood over him, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips as she took another drag from her cigarette. "You're such a good toy," she cooed before stepping over him and extinguishing the butt on his back.
The atmosphere was thick with desire and submission as Mistress Tiffany left the room, leaving her small slave gasping for air and craving more of her twisted affection. This was the power dynamic they had created: her the powerful mistress, and him the willing submissive, ready to do anything for her approval.
