Femdom chatting

Marion got a lot of ideas from the work of Namio Harukawa a famous fetish artist who depicted bigger, more voluptuous ladies dominating men. It was designed so that Robert could get inside it, contorted in such a way that his tilted back head was pressed up and inside a padded ring at the top.

The result was that his face was held in position millimetres away from his wife’s fulsome bottom.

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Still, in the interest of her own comfort and convenience Marion would grant Robert 5 minutes alone in the shower to get himself clean.

Robert went downstairs to prepare Marion’s breakfast as she put on make-up and dressed for work at Press-man-down.

He lay out the breakfast then clambered inside her bar stool.

She constantly moved and turned, pressing her toes deep into Robert’s belly one moment, then crushing his face or windpipe the next. She washed herself all over, carefully cleansing every inch of her magnificent body.

All the while he desperately held her ankles to keep her steady. When she washed her foot-soles she balanced on the other foot for several seconds, letting all her weight crush her husband’s belly.

When his head lifted from the slatted floor of the shower stall Marion cruelly slammed it down beneath her toes of her right foot. The dribbles from her conditioner ran in Robert’s eyes burning them. She made a point of raising herself up on tiptoe during this phase.Robert’s poor abused abdomen felt as if it were on fire.part 3 The next morning Marion woke Robert by kicking him in the head. Robert ran to the shower, set it going, then lay on his back ready for his voluptuous wife.The water cascaded down as he lay there, spattering his eyes and occasionally getting in his mouth.Marion stepped into the shower and onto Robert’s chest.As he turned red, struggling to breathe, his heavy wife began showering. Marion washed her hair, letting shampoo suds run down her back, over her buttocks, down her legs and onto her husband’s straining face.

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