What does the Dress Facilitator have in mind for me next?

A prolonged Masturbation session

I blink, seeing the image of the Dress Facilitator's tits bounce in that brief window, before opening my eyes again. Suddenly, I'm left kneeling on the floor by my self, looking at the purple heels of the Dress Facilitator about a foot or two in front of me. "Look up. Then goon for me."

Obediently, I slowly raise my head until... I see them.

Her chest. Her tits. Her boobs. Her breasts.

In all of their divine, F cup glory, they hung in their perfect natural state above my head. My hand was already on my cock, frantically masturbating while obediently keeping myself right on the very precipice of orgasm the moment I reached it. In an instant, every single cell in my body understood that this was my duty. To obediently masturbate to the sight - no, the very existence of those perfect breasts that had been made to dominate every aspect of my waking and unwaking mind alike.

"Good. I see you're totally into it," the Dress Facilitator says. "You only need to keep edging yourself to my tits for what's going to be an hour for us... but much longer for you!" The Dress Facilitator says, as I begin to feel everything slow down. She's altered my perception of time to a fraction of what it normally is... all so I could enjoy gooning and worshipping her breasts like this for even longer.

And so it begins - the "hour" of mindless, entranced masturbation for the Dress Facilitator, focusing on nothing except for exactly the perfection that was her chest.