Princess Beigh - Face Farts and a Handjob for My Lucky Fart Slave

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Princess Beigh - Face Farts and a Handjob for My Lucky Fart Slave

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The Royal Fartress's Pleasurable Punishment

A Giantess's Intimate Game of Power and Surrender

The room was thick with anticipation, and the air was heavy with the sweet scent of royalty. Princess Beigh, the reigning fartress of the land, stood before her newest fart slave, a mere mortal man trembling in his eagerness. Her majestic presence towered over him, her giantess form casting an imposing shadow that both terrified and aroused him.

With a sly smile, she held up a small mirror, revealing the innocent expression on his face. "Are you ready for your first task, my fart slave?" she purred, her voice deep and velvety. He nodded nervously, his heart racing in his chest.

Slowly, she leaned forward, her enormous breasts grazing against his cheeks. She placed one hand over his mouth, her long, slender fingers barely touching him. "You will only speak when spoken to," she warned, her breath hot against his skin. "Understand?" He nodded again, his face flushed with excitement and fear.

Princess Beigh leaned back, her gaze never leaving his. She lifted her gown ever so slightly, revealing a pair of lacy black panties that barely contained her farts. With a wicked grin, she began to fart into her own hand, the stench of the royal farts making him lightheaded. "Drink it in, my fart slave," she commanded. "This is your punishment...and your pleasure."

Hesitantly, he leaned closer, his nose just inches from her hand. He breathed in deeply, savoring the unique scent of his queen's farts. His cock stirred beneath his robes, betraying his growing arousal. Princess Beigh smiled, seeing his reaction. She knew that she had him under her spell, that he was hers to command.

Moving her other hand to his crotch, she began to massage him through his robes. His cock hardened even more at her touch, straining against the fabric. "Good boy," she purred, her voice deepening with desire. "You're so eager to please your queen."

With a sly smile, she reached down and untied the knot at the waist of his robes, revealing his throbbing cock. "You've been such a good fart slave," she whispered, stroking him gently. "I think you deserve a reward."

Princess Beigh leaned forward again, her breasts brushing against his face. She placed his hard cock against her massive cleavage, her panties still full of her own farts. "Feel the power of your queen," she breathed, her warm breath caressing his skin. "Take this as your reward, my fart slave."

And so he did, thrusting against her generous chest as she continued to fart into her hand, the scent of her farts driving him wild with desire. He had never felt so powerless, so utterly at the mercy of another's will. Yet at the same time, he had never felt so alive, so completely connected to another being. This was the game they played, a dance of power and surrender, of pleasure and pain. And in that moment, he knew that he would do anything for his queen, no matter how humiliating or depraved the task might be.

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