In the pink lit room, the air is thick with tension and tantalizing blend of perfumes. Mistress Ava Von Medisin, exuding an aura of dominance and elegance, sits above the slave, who is lying flat on the floor, eyes wide with anticipation. With a confident, almost playful smile, she positions herself over the slave's face.

Her voice a mix of authority and allure. Slowly, she lowers herself, her thighs pressing against the sides of his head, the soft leather fabric of her boots brushing against his skin. The slave feels the pressure increase, her weight settling upon him, her body wa...

In the pink lit room, the air is thick with tension and tantalizing blend of perfumes. Mistress Ava Von Medisin, exuding an aura of dominance and elegance, sits above the slave, who is lying flat on the floor, eyes wide with anticipation. With a confident, almost playful smile, she positions herself over the slave's face.

Her voice a mix of authority and allure. Slowly, she lowers herself, her thighs pressing against the sides of his head, the soft leather fabric of her boots brushing against his skin. The slave feels the pressure increase, her weight settling upon him, her body warmth enveloping his senses. Each breath becomes a struggle, a desperate fight for air that only she can grant or deny.

Mistress Ava tilts her head back slightly, enjoying the power she holds, feeling the slave's muffled, pleading breath against her. She shifts slightly, making it even harder for him to breathe, savoring every moment of control. "Good Boy" she purrs, as his world narrows to nothing but her presence, his every thought consumed by the feeling of her body against his face.