Brazil Fetish Films - Princess Patrice Hill First Farting Humiliation II

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Brazil Fetish Films - Princess Patrice Hill First Farting Humiliation II

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Princess Patrice Hill's Divine Assault

Milena knelt before her Princess, her eyes fixated on the plush red velvet seat of the golden throne. The tension was palpable as she waited for Patrice's command, her heart racing in anticipation of what was to come. She could feel the warmth emanating from the highness's nether regions, a telltale sign of what was about to transpire.

Suddenly, Patrice lifted her regal chin towards the heavens, her eyes closed in blissful indulgence. Milena watched, mesmerized, as a delicate stream of air escaped from between her Princess's luscious lips. The scent of old wine and rotting fruit wafted through the air, causing Milena's stomach to churn.

Patrice opened her eyes, her gaze piercing Milena's soul. "Do you find my farts unpleasant, Milena?" she purred, her voice like velvet.

Milena swallowed hard, her mouth dry with fear. "No, my Princess," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

A slow, mischievous grin spread across Patrice's lips. "Good," she said, leaning back into her throne. "Because you're going to smell them all, until I say otherwise."

With that, Patrice released another torrent of putrid gas, this time aiming directly at Milena's face. The stench was overwhelming, but Milena remained resolute, determined not to show any sign of displeasure. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she dared not wipe them away for fear of angering her Mistress.

As the minutes ticked by, Milena's mind began to blur from the noxious fumes. Her head spun, and her stomach churned with each new assault. She could feel the warmth of Patrice's farts against her skin, like tiny flames licking at her flesh.

Patrice watched her slave with a cruel glint in her eye. This was power, pure and simple. To be able to control another person's senses in such a way was intoxicating. She reveled in Milena's suffering, knowing that she could make it stop at any moment, but choosing not to.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Patrice rose from her throne, her gown billowing around her like a hurricane. She towered over Milena, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You may rise, Milena," she said, her voice like ice.

Slowly, Milena stood, her legs shaking beneath her. She stumbled forward, collapsing at her Mistress's feet, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you, my Princess," she whispered, her voice hoarse from the fumes.

Patrice looked down at her slave, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. She knew that this was only the beginning of Milena's training. But for now, she would bask in the knowledge that she held all the power. And that was a feeling unlike any other.

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