The live vlog was going on and on. When would it ever be over? You had no concept of time. There were no clocks in the basement, and the speed of time felt much different when the time was being spent being dominated with panties, feet, and shoes.
Time flies when you’re having fun, but it drags when you’re in hell, and you were doing both simultaneously. You were turned on as fuck by smelly the intense smells of a superior Asian woman. Some of the smells (most of them) were--from an objective standpoint--vile: the insoles of their school shoes that had been baking with sweat, the socks from their workouts they had shoved into your mouth, the used tampons they had saved. Others were honestly wonderful: their masturbation panties with female ejaculate locked into the fabric.
Whether good or bad, it was thrilling to be forcibly degraded by Yuna. Your favorite fetish model, Yuna. The flawless beauty. Yuna. The confident, charismatic, dominant demigod. Yuna.
You were aware, too, that you were becoming more and more easily stimulated each time Yuna stuck your face in her dirty old clothes. It was almost as if she was programming that response into you. For the rest of your life, you would be turned on by the sweaty parts of a woman’s body.
Yuna rubbed a couple of pairs of athletic shorts of hers and Hana’s across your face. Then they did the same tests with their socks, their pantyhose, and their worn bras. Just when you thought it was almost over, she kept adding new twists.
“For the final challenge...” Just what you wanted to hear. “...let’s see how many panties and socks we can fit over this loser’s face at once.”
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This is Part XI of Laundry Room Domination, a Femdom Caption Story
Read Ari Chase-Ramos's femdom novellas on Amazon Kindle
Calvin James
2025-02-05 04:07:30 +0000 UTC