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Face

By: OrlandusLassus



He sat in his favorite chair, a nice, decent-sized plush affair that he liked so much he managed to carry and push it across two avenues and six city blocks rather than wait for the following day to buy it, when it would have been gone. Nice big arms, comfortable cushion, the perfect chair to sit and read in, to lean back (it didn't recline, he hated those lazy-boys, which made him feel like his grandfather) and nap, to type and write in his computer. It was still a new purchase, and he was still finding the best ways to utilize it and see what the best things were to be done in it.

It was this particular thought that was crossing his mind when he saw her pass by the doorway across the room.

Katy was, in his mind (and most likely everyone else's), the perfect dichotomy between sweet as honey and hot as a piece of iron left lying in the hot Texas sun. A schoolteacher by trade, she was also the type of schoolteacher, the type of woman, who set heads turning and eyes wandering. Men would find their hand and fingers moving towards an itch, a scratch near their waist, and those less subtle would simply go so far as to straighten their underwear from the increased pressure brought on by watching her walk. Women would watch with a mixed appreciation and envy. A smallish 5'3" with a thin stomach and a waist and chest that made mathematicians question the perfect curve, dark hair and a smile to brighten the coldest winter. She had a love for students and family, an adorable voice that never spoke an ill word about anyone that, um, didn't deserve it. She was, he knew, the type of girl that mothers wished their boys would bring home.

Because, he smiled, they didn't know her like he did.

"Katy." He said, not above speaking tone, but with enough direction to cut right through to her in the next room. She came back to the doorway, across the room from the chair. She seemed to be in the middle of some manner of chore, holding a folder and a pencil.

"Yes?" She returned, looking at him.

For the briefest instant, he wondered if he should let her continue what she was doing. Then he realized he didn't want to.

"All fours," he said. "Now."

"Tim, I'm-

"Now, Katherine." He switched to her formal name.

She made a face completely indistinguishable between a smile and a frown, turned her head for one instant, opened her mouth to speak, thought better of it, and put down the folder. She was wearing jeans and a loose white t-shirt, the sorts of clothes those who were paid to be beautiful wouldn't be caught dead in, yet somehow she made look like expensive lingerie. He watched as she slowly breathed deeply, set herself, and got down on all fours. Which made him smile. She raised her eyebrows in question, wondering what was next, it seemed.

"To me. Now."

She knew what that meant.

She began to crawl to him across the floor, and he loved watching how simply those 20 feet changed her. When the movement began, she was just moving, like someone who needed to stay down to get where they were going. Halfway to him, she had started to sway her hips a bit, and breathe deeply. And when she was only 5 feet away, he could see her eyes glaze over a bit as she looked up at him. She almost slithered those last few feet, and when she got to his legs, she began to crawl up his legs, smiling, her hand only inches from his crotch, to use as an anchor.

When he moved, quickly and almost violently.

Sliding his hand behind her head, almost gently if it hadn't been so fast, with his right hand he grabbed her hair and stood up. His movement would have pushed her off him, out of the chair, if his pulling hadn't made her yelp and get to her feet, quickly. He made a point to turn her head, and her body, and they were both standing now, with her facing away from him as he stood in front of the chair, her head back, gasping for air with shock.

"Ti-" was all she managed to get out before he sat back down again, pulling her with him, backwards. He sank into the chair, but used his left hand to keep her from sitting on his lap.. She began to moan, softly, as he kept her head pulled back, and her off-balance. Finally, he let her recline slowly back onto him, and he kissed her neck, then, with a HARD yanked from his right hand, he brought her head to the side.

"Aaaaaaahhhhhhwwwww.... Please, no, ahhhh." she howled, and as he pulled her head off the side of the arm chair to his right, and her legs pushed her back to lessen the pull on her hair. "OW, fuck, owwww – "

"QUIET!" He raised his voice for the first time. Nearly a shout.

She stopped struggling, her face contorted as he held her head back off the arm of the chair. Her back was arched so that her chest was directly over the arm of the chair, sticking up and out. He leaned over her, and whispered in her ear.

"Don't you think that when I tell you to come to me, I expect a little more care in your movement, toy? Shouldn't you crawl across that floor in a particular way, a way I've tried to train you and tell you and encourage you to follow, hmm?" With each verb he twisted and pulled just a little harder, making her gasp the more. "Have I wasted my time with you, Katherine? Are you simply not going to do as I've told you to?" He pulled even harder now, pulling her head down over the edge of the chair. "Let's start with something basic, cunt. What are you?" he asked.

She didn't even hesitate for an instant, despite the position she was in. She loved this game.

"Your fucktoy, Timothy."

He placed his left hand on her stomach; exposed now from the stretching and uncomfortable position he had her in. She moaned again from the touch, and he slid his fingers, JUST the tips from one side of her ribs to the other. She gasped for breath and he traced lower down her stomach ("playing you like the most sublime instrument in existence", he would always tell her) waiting to see what sounds would come from that mouth.

"You seem a little excitable, toy. In fact," he took a deep breath, "what is that I smell?"

She thought for only a few seconds. Knowing him, she knew that he required her to think before she answered, that she should know a bit what he was thinking. He never stopped tracing his fingers over her stomach as she answered, making her aware of each square inch of her exposed skin.

"You smell me, Timothy, my cunt is wet, is dripping."

"And when did that start to happen?"

"When you grabbed my head, and stood me up, and dragged me over the side of the chair by my hair."

"Why is my toy's cunt - why is MY cunt so wet? Tell me."

Pause.

He waited.

"Because it wants to be fucked, Timothy. It wants your inside it, and it is absolutely fucking dying to be fucked hard, and fast, and deep. Your toy wants your cock, Timothy, and wants it so bad that you holding her here by her hair helpless, makes her simply want to cum for you right now. Your toy wants to cum, please let me cum for you, please, owwwww oh please my pussy wants to be opened – I'm squeezing the muscles but there's nothing to squeeze inside me and that's what I want, to squeeze your cock, or your fingers, or your tongue, anything right now, PLEASE Timothy."

He smiled at her desperation, which he knew from experience was not feigned or a show. This was the girl the mothers didn't know he had in his grasp, the girl they wanted for their sons. 

They did not know anything about her.

"Remember this position, toy. You're going to see more of it later. Now stand up and walk back over where you started. When you get back to the doorway, you should have absolutely nothing on , not even your wet thong. Then, turn around, get on all fours, and try crawling over to me properly, like someone who wants to get fucked. 

"Yes, Timothy."

She smiled with her head pulled back, and he let her hair go. With not a shred of awkwardness from the position she was in, she put one hand on each arm of the chair, slid down his body so her feet could touch the ground and pushed herself up to standing. 

He always marveled at what her body could do. 

She took a second to breathe, her back to him, before she started walking. This was one thing he loved about having her as his slave, his toy and partner - her ability to not be ill-at-ease with anything that was going on. She didn't rush like a little girl to follow orders, she was never desperate or unsure when in his presence. She knew exactly how to comport herself, and knew what she was. This sort of thing was so sexy it was a revelation each time he saw it.

She began to walk.

Two steps forward, and stopped.

Slowly but not deliberately teasingly, not looking at him, she unbuttoned her jeans. She could have crouched down, stepped out of them, but by now she knew what he liked. And after the treatment she had just received from him, she seemed to realize nothing but her best behavior would do. She bent over, crossed her legs at the ankles as she stood, and as she did, lowered the jeans around her ass, peeking back at him as she did so, a half-smile on her face. He sat there and shook his head in a chuckle. It was a big tease between them that he had never seen THE bdsm mainstream film, "Secretary", and she took it upon herself to offer him this position from the poster both because he loved her ass and because he simply had no interest in seeing the movie. But he definitely did have plenty of interest in seeing her ass. He loved her shape from this angle and all angles. She kidded him at times that no one who happened upon them knew they were a couple because most men only ogled women who WEREN'T their girlfriends.

When the jeans reached her ankles, she stepped her back foot out of them and went forward one, then two steps. She bent back over, legs now apart, and took her hands, encircling her right thigh with both hands she slowly slid them down her leg, as if she was taking off stockings she wasn't wearing, drawing attention to another one of his favorite features on her (on any woman, she often always reminded him), her legs. Watching her caress her own legs brought his hand to his crotch, and he lightly and deliberately pressed into his cock, sighing, watching her. When her hands got down to her sock, she simply slid it off, lifting her foot and stepping forward. Now, legs open even further, she did the same to her back leg, and saw the effect she was having on his hands..

She smiled.

Again, she stepped forward once, and stopped. She wrapped her arms around her body, placing her palms on the opposite hips, hand on skin. Then, rather than gripping her shirt on each side and simply taking it off, she slid her hands, her palms up her sides, pushing - not pulling - the shirt up her body until it reached her shoulders. Only then did she finally hold the shirt to lift it off her arms. He knew, explicitly, oh so explicitly, what he liked. And he very much liked her touching her own body. Just in the two actions of removing her sock and her shirt was she able to completely show how good and attentive a toy she was. And it was this thought, rather than the views of her naked legs and back that he so desired, that truly made him hard as a rock.

She finally reached the doorway, and still facing away from him, she gracefully lowered her self to her knees, then to all fours, her absolutely beautiful ass framed by the entranceway she was now in. Then, she hesitated just long enough so he could tell she was thinking, and she lowered her face and chest to the floor, keeping her ass nice and high and her legs a bit apart. He watched, utterly hypnotized and fascinated by her actions and her body as she slid her hands back along her body from this position, and hooked her fingers under her thong, and slid it over her ass cheeks. He saw, and could even hear the whisper of fabric as it peeled away from her cunt, the thong soaked through completely by now. He heard her inhale sharply from the feeling, but he knew at that moment it wasn't just the sensation of the fabric allowing her cunt to feel the air. From this position, he could hear her breathing slightly harder than normal. She pulled the thong down to her knees, lifted them up and then all the way to her ankles, taking them off in a show of concentration that was damned impressive. And with each passing second as the thong was removed, her breathing got a heavier. And he knew why. Face down, hands occupied, legs together, she knew she was helpless at that moment, utterly vulnerable.

And he knew it was what she lived for. 

When her thong was off, she slowly turned around in the doorway, and the look on her face was a pure smile, she could not, would not hide how happy the last 20 minutes had made her. She was on all fours, her legs apart, her boy staring at her, obviously hard and she told him more than once in the past that it was her definition of a perfect evening. She was not giggling but completely lascivious. Her smile, he often thought, even when there was nothing sexual inspiring it, came from right between her legs. It was the hottest feature of her face, and he told her time and again that whenever she smiled it made him want to fuck her right then and there. And each time she smiled from then on brought that image to her mind. She had never forgotten it.

She waited, naked, for his instruction.

"Okay," he said, "let's try again. To me, cunt. Now."

She physically shuddered, and slowly began. And the difference was apparent from the very start. He had told her to crawl to him like she wanted to be fucked, and she made a point to do exactly that, he could see. Her legs were kept apart behind her and she moved with such deliberation. Her torso, low to the floor, her body moving like a cat or a snake. Her hips moved down and up as if she WAS being fucked. A third of the way to him he nearly forgot to tell her to stop. NEARLY forgot.

"Stop, fucktoy."

She stopped moving, that instant. He smiled.

"Are you wet?"

"Yes, very."

"Show me." Knowing what would come next from her, he headed her question off at the pass. "You have permission to get your fingers and hand as wet as you can, from sliding them all over your lips and opening. You can even touch your clit - that is what you can count as your reward for stripping down and crawling so well for me."

"Oh, thank you, Timothy," she said, and started to reach between her legs.

"STOP!"

She froze.

"I will remember you were unable to wait until I was done instructing you. That will be for later. But for now, this is what I need from you, if you aren't too impatient to let me finish, cunt?" She shook her head. "Good girl. I want you to get your hand nice and wet with your juices, as wet as you are and as badly as you want to be fucked right now. Then you are to slide your fingers, your hand, your juices all over your face, your lips. Coat it for me. Show me how wet you get for me. At no time should your tongue come out of your mouth to taste it, and at no time allow your eyes to leave mine. I want to see my slut gazing at me so she knows whose orders she follows. Understood, fucktoy?"

"Yes, Timothy."

"Good girl."

He waited, looking her in the eye from across the room. She stared back at him, not defiantly, but expectantly. He nodded.

She started, and as soon as her hand reached her pussy, she gasped and bit her lip.

"Been waiting for that, Katherine?" He asked her, smiling.

"Oh fuck yes, Timothy, thank you, thank you," she whispered, gazing into his eyes, her face twitching with each bit of contact with her clit.

She continued for a minute or so, but knowing that too much would garner her punishment, she moved her hand to her face. It was glistening from her fluids, and his OWN breathing became deeper now as he watched her, almost light-headed from his own lust at the image she provided. She knew it, from looking at him, and slid it across her face in a show, on her lips and a wide swath from her chin to one cheekbone, making her face wet, shining with her own desire. She moved it around her mouth again, and as the moved from her fingers to her face, He watched and true to form, he headed off her questions.

"Again. More."

She obliged with actual speed this time, and he knew she was getting hotter by the second. This time her hand was on her cunt even less, although she moaned even louder while staring at him. She brought it again up to her face, wiping herself on her cheekbone so her face was becoming truly coated. Her eyes began to glaze over as she stared at him. He loved that look, knowing what it meant.

"Now – crawl."

She let the hint of a pout pass over her face as she started to move again, and now the movement was deliberately slow, the legs far apart, her breath nearly gasps.

"Stop."

She did, now two-thirds the ways across the room.

"Again – more this time. In fact, I'd take this opportunity to get your juices from out of your cunt by burying those two middle fingers in there. But – I don't need to tell you not to even think of cumming, right?"

She made a face so hungry he wasn't even sure if it was a smile or moan.

"No, Timothy, no, I won't." She paused. "And thank you for letting me fuck myself, thank you very much, your cunt needs it so fucking bad, god she does. Your cunt loves to be fucked."

"You're welcome, toy. Now."

She slid her hand down there and stared at him, now literally gasping for breath. He could see her body tense up, the muscles in her back shake at the moment her fingers wen into her, and from that moment on, he knew she was fighting to keep from cumming, and she wanted to, badly. She finally let her fingers out, and again slid them over her face, looking at him, and almost unable to breath by this point, actual heaves of breath.

"Again. Deeper."

She was now almost an animal about it, going faster than he thought she would, and giving her cunt one almost swift uncontrolled thrust that jerked her body forward. Then she stopped, dead, completely. Didn't move, didn't breathe. Then, as if she was sleepwalking, she again brought her face to her lips. Slid them just there, nowhere else.

"Timothy?"

"Yes, pet?"

Her eyes had still not left him.

"I was so close, God I wanted to cum so bad I thought I was going to weep there – I never ever thought I would be able to stop. I'm fucking dying to be fucked now, and I want to cum, please, can I cum please Timothy, look how good a job I've done. My face is so wet, and I'm your cunt, my face is yours, my legs are yours. I want to cum for you, I want to lick my juices off my face, show you who's fucking whore I am. My cunt held my fingers, begging for your cock to be there instead. Please Timothy, please let me cum, please, I...."

The begging seemed to make her hotter, if that was possible, and I held her gaze in mine.

"Who's cunt are you?"

"Yours, Timothy, all yours, I'm your cunt, your cocksucker."

"Who tells you when to cum?"

She swallowed.

"You, Timothy, you do."

"Then I'm telling you now: No. Now, put your two fingers back in your cunt, very slowly, as far as possible, and crawl the rest of the way over here with your cunt full like the slut you are. And you'll see what has to happen before I let you cum."

She took a deep breath, and slid the fingers as I told her – the sound that came from her face was lovely. 

Face



The party was held at a friends house. The usual gang was there, however Patty had invited a few more friends of hers to enjoy the fireworks from the back yard. Patty and Mark's house was right on the lake and every Fourth of July they held a small party, inviting us all over to enjoy their good fortune and view. Most the guests knew us both as we had attended all the parties save for that one year.

David waved hello to a few guys while I scanned around the backyard looking for Patty. Seeing her, I excused myself from David, who gave me a look and a nod and made my way over to her as she was fussing with the salad.

Giving each other kisses on the cheeks, I settled down with her in helping make sure the food was laid out properly. Always within sight of David, I watched him as he seemed happy, speaking with a few guys, reliving last nights game as they argued about some call. He took a slug of his beer and looked up at me, catching my stare.

"How are things between you two?" Patty asked.

I blushed a little and mumbled, "Pretty good, lately."

I scanned the small gathering and singled out the new strangers.

"Oh! You've invited others here." I was a bit startled.

"Calm down, they're just friends from Mark's work. They aren't so bad; in fact let me introduce you to the girls."

I shook my head, but Patty ignored my objections and grabbed my wrist, dragging me over to three women who stood together sipping their wine.

As we approached, the women looked up, saw Patty and smiled. As their gazes moved to me, I saw the familiar reaction and inwardly groaned.

"Ladies, this is Jessica. Jessica, this is Sue, Patrice, and Lisa."

I smiled, what else could I do, and I felt my face turn red as I said hello.

The girls, no doubt were coached not to dwell on me, tried their best to engage in chit-chat. I blandly answered their questions and soon, I began to warm up to them. They were very excited about the fireworks. Lisa and Patrice had brought their kids to see them.

"They're around here somewhere, raising hell as usual!" Lisa laughed.

"It's mommy's time," Patrice said as she downed her wine. "They're in a contained yard. Let the daddies watch them for once!"

Lisa turned to me.

"You and..."

"David," I filled in.

"You and David have any kids?"

"No," I said. "We had planned on having some, but..."

The women were silent.

Patrice looked at her empty glass and excused herself for a refill.

"You want one yourself?" she asked.

I think I looked like I needed one, but I said, "No, thank you Patrice, I don't drink anymore."

She forced a smile and excused herself.

Just then, a little girl around five came running up to Lisa.

"Mommy! Freddy won't share!" she grabbed the leg of Lisa and reached upward to be lifted up.

Lisa stooped and pulled the little girl into her arms.

"Sandy, this is my new friend Jessica, say hello."

Sandy turned to face me and her face dropped. All of a sudden little Sandy started crying in fear. Despite Lisa's best attempts, she had to excuse herself and get Sandy away to calm her down.

The noise of the crying had drawn everybody's attention, leaving me the center of all their stares. Blushing I waited a moment and then tried to slowly walk back into the house. I tried to not look at anyone, but out of the corner of my eyes I saw them, looking at me with revulsion, and morbid curiosity. By the time I had made it to the sliding glass door, I was running, and tears streaked down my face.

I locked myself into the bathroom and sobbed. Some moments later, I heard a soft knock.

"Honey, open up, it's me David."

I tried to compose myself.

"I'm...okay," my voice cracked.

He knocked again and tried the door.

"Jess, open up. Please."

I took a breath and unlocked the door.

David came in and quickly closed it behind him. I saw him shoo away Patty who had been with him outside the door.

Without saying a word, he saw my look and he stepped forward and held me. I melted into his arms and cried. Soon I became aware of his shortened breathing and I looked up at him with blurred eyes. He was crying too, softly.

"I'm sorry," I said. "It's just that I didn't think there might be new people here."

"I know," David said. "It's still tough on you."

"It's my penance," I said as I sighed.

"It shouldn't have to be," he whispered.

My voice caught in my throat, but I swallowed and managed to compose myself.

"Sometimes I think this is harder than the other choice."

"Jess, come on now. We worked so hard to get past this."

I nodded and held him.

"I know," I said. "It's just that it's not easy to live with a mistake and be reminded every time you see another person."

"Hey, it's hard on me too. "He replied.

I gave him a harsh look.

"I mean," he quickly corrected. "Everyone knows that I did this to you, yet you are still with me. They may see you, but they always think of me."

We turned and looked into the mirror. I saw my rugged handsome husband David, holding me. I try not to look at myself often, but at that moment I took time to study myself.

My hair was perfect, my body had gained five pounds since high school, and at one point I was the envy of everyone. I was hot stuff and somewhere over the years I let that get into my head.

David's hand slowly crept up my back and rounded my body. I felt the first hints of him on the side of my breast. Instantly my nipple hardened. Painfully it stood erect as my eyes traveled down in the mirror to watch his hand. His hardened rough hand took gentle hold of my pert breast. He was always gentle with me now, afraid of his strength. At times I urged him to be rough with me, but he always tried to hold back the beast within.

David's lips touched my neck and I felt goose bumps travel down my spine. His erection pressed into me and I clung to him like a life-preserver in a sea of sharks.

"Oh David! I want you!" I groaned.

"Here? Now?" he whispered.

"Here. Now."

He turned me around and I grabbed the sink with both hands. Bent over, I felt him pull my dress up over my hips. Instantly my panties were lowered down and momentarily his face pushed into my ass. His tongue darted out and licked my pussy, awakening my clit as I felt it tremble and struggle to stand above its folds.

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed as the feelings overcame me. I was gushing soon enough. The world outside the bathroom was instantly forgotten as David dropped his pants and quickly plunged his hard cock inside me.

He quickly built up speed and we both sensed the climax coming. At that moment I glanced at myself in the mirror a few inches in front of me. What stared back at me was not the face I was used to.

My nose bent savagely to the left and drooped like melted wax. A scar, red when I was tired dragged its trail from my top lip all the way up to my right eye. Well my real eye was gone, replaced by a decent prosthetic. Around the eye the scarring was jagged and ugly. This thing that stared back at me always surprised me, if only for a moment, each time I saw myself in reflection. I looked at it, for it was in reality me, not "the me" that I remembered, and for the millionth time I tried to make peace with it. We had a lifetime ahead of us to share.

"Oh yeah!" David grunted as his cock hit a spot deep inside of me. I arched my back, eager to take more of him in, The feeling of being stuffed was always delicious, though not always worth it.

David kissed the back of my neck, and the monster in the mirror rolled her head in delight. My handsome David wanted me. STILL wanted me. That thought made me tingle as I lost myself to the throes of passion invoked in his carnal passion for me.

"You were awfully loud!" he said as he pulled his pants back on and handed me a towel. I was sitting on the toilet leaking his semen out. My screams of climax were probably heard by all the guests. Their tongues would be wagging tonight!

"I think they all heard us!" I said.

David smiled. It was his turn to blush.

"Probably will make them jealous, I expect." He said.

"Oh?" I cocked an eyebrow.

"About how lucky I am to have a girl like you."

My heart melted as I looked at him. He really did love me. He really did find me sexy. I would walk out of that bathroom with my head held up high. It didn't matter what others thought or saw, only what my man thought and felt about me. I should have known that all along.

"You want to bow out early?" he asked.

"No," I decided. "I'm better now. Let's stay for the fireworks."

David waited until I flushed and had properly tidied myself up.

"You sure?"

I nodded and grabbed a hold of his arm.

We stayed together for the rest of the evening. After Patty checked in with us, we took solitude in sitting on two lawn chairs watching the sun set. No one approached us. I think they didn't know what to say.

The fireworks were nice, but not the highlight of the party. Driving home, David was quiet while he concentrated on the road.

"I forgive you, you know," I whispered.

He was quiet and stared straight ahead, out the front window at the darkness.

"Sometimes, I remember...and then I don't forgive myself," he said.

I reached out and touched his arm.

"It's hard on you as well, I know it." I tried to comfort him.

He was silent. Minutes later he spoke.

"My world collapsed that day when I found you with him. I should have walked away. Calmed down before... we had problems, but..."

A tear rolled down his face.

"What I did to you was wrong. So wrong. My dad taught me better. But I just lost it. Then afterwards...we didn't think you would survive the night. All those weeks in the hospital, I had to stay strong for you, not knowing whether there was a "we" anymore..." 

"We're better now," I soothingly said. I rubbed his shoulder.

He nodded and continued to drive. We both were quiet, alone with our own thoughts.

David blamed himself for the beating he did on me, for ruining my life, for destroying my face. But we were still together. No one was interested in me anymore. One look at my face and they all ran from me in horror. That was my penance, to not attract another man into our lives.

I imagined David's penance was staying with me. He never gave me any hint that it was a chore for him. He worked with me in gaining back our trust for one another. He kept me and the marriage together during all the hard times where I just wanted to give up on him, on us, on me, on life.

I saw the looks he gets at these parties and when we are around the few friends that have remained with us. No woman who knows what he did will speak with him. They all stay away from him. Their husbands are polite, but most don't engage with him. He is the wife beater. The monster all of the women are afraid to be alone with.

Most everyone, knowing how my face became this way look at me with pity and sympathy. David is the real monster to them. It's sad and I know hard on him, but not once has he ever complained.

I've watched him from afar when he doesn't know I'm around. Women who don't know him still approach him, eager to flirt and find out more about this rugged and handsome man. I've seen the numbers slipped into his pockets, and watched after they have left, him pulling the numbers out and throwing them away. He's always polite to those girls, never flirting back, yet they still throw themselves at him. He was taken for granted by me once, never again.

Who is the monster, I wondered. The one who made me this way or the one that made him do this to me? It's a vicious cycle, something we seem to be doomed to live out together.

"We are doing better," I said.

It was time for me to be strong for us now.



Face Down And Fat Ass Up!



My name is Sean Patterson Brown. I'm a big and tall young black man living in the city of Denver, Colorado. Many people can only dream of being wicked and getting away with it. I've done that. The bad stuff is addictive. And I got it all out of my system. Ever heard of focusing on the future? Well, that's what I'm doing right now. Where am I doing it? At the Denver Institute of Technology, the school which I happen to attend. It's the place where a sexy, cheerful and intelligent man like myself calls both home and workplace.

The Denver Institute of Technology was founded in the year 1987 by a wealthy philanthropic organization. It was supposed to be a small private school. Twenty years later, the school has really changed and expanded beyond the founders wildest dreams. Denver Tech has twenty thousand students, most of which come from the state of Colorado. It has outstanding programs in computer science, engineering and architecture. Recently, Denver Tech diversified by creating a liberal arts program and also beefing up its sports programs. This resulted in a dramatic increase in student enrollment and overall athletic participation. So much that this once-unknown school was recently welcomed into the National Collegiate Athletic Association's Division One.

The Denver Institute of Technology Department of Athletics currently sponsors Men's Intercollegiate Baseball, Basketball, Cross Country, Soccer, Swimming, Golf, Football, Lacrosse, Gymnastics, Volleyball, Fencing, Nordic Skiing, Rugby, Ice Hockey, Wrestling and Tennis along with Women's Intercollegiate Softball, Basketball, Cross Country, Field Hockey, Gymnastics, Fencing, Nordic Skiing, Soccer, Swimming, Volleyball, Golf, Rugby, Lacrosse, Ice Hockey, Wrestling and Tennis. Our sports teams are collectively known as the Denver Tech Black Hawks and Lady Hawks. I enrolled at Denver Tech three years ago and joined the Men's Varsity Wrestling team. I've always been into wrestling. Back in high school, I was one of the best wrestlers in the state of Massachusetts. At six-foot-four and 209 pounds, I won the state title in the 215-pound weight class. How about that?

Anyhow, collegiate athletics isn't what this story is about, believe it or not. Nah, it's about all the mean, sexy and fun things I've done at my college campus. I am a big and tall black stud with an occasional penchant for big women with fat asses. Lately, I've become kind of addicted to them. So, I went about indulging myself. It's not easy to find a big woman who's down with raunchy anal sex. I don't care what you've read before. Especially the rantings and ravings of a certain Internet erotica addict. Take my word for it. The big woman who loves anal sex is a rare gem. Something a man ought to treasure. Luckily, I have a knack for finding them. How else could you explain how it seems to be raining anal sex-adicted plump beauties wherever I go?

I was sitting at a large table in the back of the campus library when I had one of these special encounters. I was just studying my Criminology textbook prior to a big exam when I was approached by this alluring lady. I looked up to see a vision of beauty. A big and tall, blonde-haired, green-eyed and dangerously curvy beauty. She smiled at me and introduced herself as Emily Rosen. She was a Psychology student here at Denver Tech. I looked her up and down and smiled. I definitely liked what I saw. Emily asked me if she could sit down next to me. I nodded. 

She sat down, and we began to talk. She revealed to me that she was a big-time fan of mine, both on and off the wrestling mat. Also, she found me very sexy. I was flattered. Also, I was kind of surprised by how bold she was. I mean, I had just met the woman and she seemed all over me. She asked me to go back to her dormitory with her for some fun. I hesitated. These days, crazy females are everywhere. They use sex to lure men into all kinds of traps. I politely declined. I didn't go to bed with random women I had just met. Emily seemed puzzled. See what I mean? Women say no to sex with men all the time. Whenever a man says no to them, they're stunned. It's inconceivable to them that a man might not want what's between their legs. And they say we're the ones who constantly make costly mistakes because of sex. Don't buy into it. There's a lot of dumb women out there.

Now, you might be surprised by my actions too. You're thinking : What is this man doing? A big and sexy woman with a pretty face, thick body and plump ass is offering herself and he turns her down? Is this man gay or something? No, folks. I am not gay. I am not impotent. I am not crazy. And I am not simply turned off. It's just that I'm a smart man and smart men don't just hop into bed with every random woman they meet. That's how diseases get spread. That's how a man's earnings get swallowed up by brat support. That's how a man finds himself falsely accused of a heinous crime. That's how a man's reputation goes down the drain. That's how a man's life gets ruined. No, thank you. I wasn't about to risk it all over a piece of ass. Not even a fine piece of plump white female ass like Emily Rosen.

Emily Rosen nodded, and smiled. She told me that I had no idea what I was missing out on. I smiled as I watched her walk away. There was a time when I would have been all over Emily Rosen and that fat white ass of hers. Hell, yeah. I could see the old me in action, even as I forced myself to go back to reading the Criminology textbook. The scenario would have gone something like this. Emily and I leave the library together. We rush into her dorm. Once there, I sit on her bed and watch as the big and sexy chubby white woman strips. I like a big woman with a cute face, large tits, thick body and a huge, fat ass. I tell Emily to come over and suck on my ten inches of long and thick, uncircumcised Black Man Power. It's what I use to tame bitches, you know.

I tell Emily to get on her hands and knees and she obeys me. I open her mouth and stuff my cock in there. I watch the big and plump white slut as her head bobs up and down on my manly tool. Now, that's what's up. What a wonderful way to start the day. Emily sucked my dick until I got hard as steel, then came all over her face. I love blasting my hot cum all over a big woman's face. There's something so frigging hot about it. I told Emily to lick up all of my seed and she did. She cleaned it all up without spilling a drop. Is she a good slut or what? I sure know how to pick them!

Next, it was time for this big white woman to get fucked in her fat ass. I made Emily get on all fours. Face down and ass up. How every woman should be once in a while. I stood behind her, admiring her plump white booty. I spread her plump white butt cheeks wide open, and pressed my hard black cock against her asshole. With a swift thrust, I went in. Gentlemen, if you haven't fucked a big woman in the ass, make sure to do so before you die or you'll miss out on tons of fun. Ladies, bend over and say yes to anal, because it's good for your overall emotional, physical and sexual health. Don't take my word for it. Ask your more sexually adventurous girlfriends. They'll back me up. 

I placed my hands on Emily Rosen's wide hips and pushed my ccok into the big white woman's tight asshole. I love fucking big women in the ass. It's a pleasure which very few men experience. Why? Simply because they're out there chasing skinny broads who are lousy in bed. Emily screams as I thrust my dick into the depths of her asshole. It's been said many times that big women have tight assholes. Well, I got news for you. This statement is absolutely right, though few people know who first made the great discovery. Oh, well. To hell with that. I'm having myself some fun. Treating a big white woman's fat ass to some deep anal probing with my long and thick black cock. We go at it until I finally get my nut. I come, blasting my hot cum deep inside Emily's asshole. The big white woman screamed. I laughed. Now, that's what's up! Holler!

Yeah, that's the kind of thing the person I used to be would do. But I'm not that man anymore. I'm a better man. I'm going to get a bachelors of science degree in Criminal Justice soon, then I'm heading to the Colorado State Police Academy. It's my life and I'm taking it more seriously. To hell with those horny hussies who lust after me. I'm not swinging that way anymore. I'm Mister Law and Order now!



Face Fuck



My wife and I have had a lot of kinky sex over the years but what she is doing to me now is the kinkiest thing we have done in a long time. See, we were looking threw a nasty magazine about six weeks ago and we saw this rather large dildo that you strap on to your face.

It was about nine inches long and it fit over your nose and it has a strap that goes around your head to hold it in place. As soon as my wife Kara seen this she started rubbing her pussy and telling me to order it, so I called the number and placed the order. I paid and extra five dollars to get it sent to us in three days.

A couple days later it arrived in the mail and Kara had opened it and was playing with it when I arrived home from work. She couldn’t wait to get me into the bedroom and strip me down. Before I knew it she had me lying on my back and the dildo attached to my face and was inserting her pussy down on the dildo. At first she was facing me and every time she would slide down on the face dildo her asshole was right in my mouth so I started licking her anus every time she would sit down on the dildo.

This was really turning her on and she was grinding her pussy down harder and harder on my face. This was a very sexy place to be for me I loved the view of her asshole and cunt being right in front of me. When she started cumming I didn’t think she was ever going to stop, pussy cum was dripping out of her cunt in globs and I was trying my best to suck up every drop of it.

She must have cum four or five times before she removed the face dildo from her hungry cunt. I got up and removed the dildo from my face, it was covered in girl cum. I thought for a second and then I slipped the end of the dildo into my mouth and started sucking the spent girl cum off of it. She was moaning and telling me how sexy it looked for me to be sucking on the dildo.

I was enjoying the taste of her pussy juices and licked up every drop. The next morning was Saturday and Kara woke me up with a sloppy wet blow-job, she was sucking my cock all the way down her throat when I woke up. She had been sucking on my balls and licking around the little bit of skin that is between your balls and asshole every once in awhile she would run the tip of her tongue around the rim of my asshole and it would send shock waves up my spine.

She started fucking my asshole with her tongue while she was jacking my cock off. My cock, balls and asshole were coated with her saliva. She then laid down on her back and she put the face dildo on and motioned for me to slip my ass down on the dildo. I have had a dildo in my ass before but nothing this big. 

As the head of it slipped slowly into my ass I was gasping for air and moaning from the thickness of the dildo, I kept lowering my ass down on it inch by inch till the head of it was inside my ass muscle. I stopped for a minute and was regaining my composure when Kara reached around and wrapped her fingers around my cock and started pumping it up and down.

I lost my balance and slipped all the way down the dildo till my balls was resting on her chin. The pain felt from the dildo sliding all the way up my ass was intense and I couldn’t move for a few seconds. But after a little while the pain went away and the pleasure started, I started rocking back and forth on the dildo as Kara jacked my cock, she was lapping at my balls every time I was on a down stroke and it felt good. 

She told me to tell her when I was going to cum, she wanted to try something new today. Just when I started to cum she cupped her hand over the end of my cock and I cum with a lot of force. I felt like I had dumped a gallon of cum in her hand and now she was rubbing the spent cum into my balls and cock, she had both hands massaging the cum into my skin.

As I lifted myself off of the face dildo and the dildo slowly slipped out of my hungry ass I shot another wad of cum all over the sheets. I was weak from the ass fucking I had received, so I rolled over and went back to sleep. Kara woke me up an hour later and breakfast was served.

I got up and my cock and balls were coated with dried up cum, and the skin was real tight. Later on that day Kara was horny again and wanted me to strap the dildo on my face so she could take another ride. This time she lowered her asshole down on it and stuck another vibrating dildo up her cunt and rode both of them till she had a major orgasm. 

But she just kept on fucking my face, girl cum was seeping out all over my face and chin and she just kept on fucking the dildo’s. Then she slipped the dildos out of her cunt and ass and she sat down on my rock hard cock. I started to take the face dildo off but she stopped me, she said she wasn’t done yet. She was bouncing up and down on my hard prick fucking me harder than she has ever fucked me.

I started pumping load after load of cum deep into her pussy. Just as I stopped cumming she pulled my cock out of her and sat back down on the face dildo. She slipped the whole thing in at one time and it pushed my spent cum all over my face. She started fucking the face dildo real hard and cum was going everywhere. 

She kept fucking up and down and my cum was being whipped into a white lather. I was licking up all of it I could, but it was everywhere, all over the sheets and all over my face and hair. If you haven’t ate whipped up cum you don’t know what you are missing. We have worn this face dildo out and we are ordering two more. I love my wife.  

If this story made you cum email me and VOTE.



Face Fuck



Shelby entered the hotel room and immediately let her wool coat fall to the floor. Her master Robert drew her to him, kissed her blood-red mouth, then pushed her away so he could assess her appearance: Just as he requested, her plump, curvaceous body was bound at the waist by a form-fitting black bustier. The steel boning pushed her ample breasts up and forced her tapered waist to constrict her breathing. Her thick, fleshy cunt was covered by a tight, sheer thong that pushed the lips out and up. 

He was pleased. 

Touching the exposed cunt lips, Robert noted they were free of hair and slick with her juices. Shelby felt Robert's probing fingers along with the fabric of the thong straining against her shaved cunt, and gushed even more juice onto his hand. 

Robert forced the thick index finger of his right hand deep into her snatch. He fucked her cunt until her juices covered his hand and wrist, then force-fed his finger into her mouth. 

Roughly, he pushed his finger down her throat, forcing her to gag. 

"Get ready for my fat cock, Bitch." 

Shelby moaned. 

Her fat, shapely ass was bisected by the line of the thong, and thigh-high black stockings adorned her legs. 

Robert slapped her ass hard and grabbed her waist. 

"Bend over, Whore." 

Shelby obeyed, bending from the waist to expose her straining cunt. 

"Open your legs, Bitch. I want to see the whore I'm going to face-fuck." 

Shelby happily complied, opening her legs while struggling to maintain balance on her 6-inch high heels. The nails of her hands were painted blood red and she dug them into the flesh of her buttocks, opening her ass wide to give Robert a better look. 

"Mmm, yeah, just like that, Bitch. You're a good cock slut." 

He slapping her ass hard while holding her waist and forcing two thick fingers into her glistening asshole. 

"I'm gonna hit that later, you fucking whore."

Shelby moaned as cunt juices pumped from her exposed canal. 

Robert looked at her face critically. Her gorgeous long blonde hair hung in fat curls down her back, and her blue eyes were accented by whorish black eyeliner and blue eyeshadow. He was pleased.

"You look like a proper whore, you fucking bitch." 

He smiled with approval. 

Looking toward her purse, he asked, "Where are the shackles I requested, Slave." 

Dutifully, Shelby teetered on her heels and reached for her purse. Inside, she found a pair of black leather wrist-shackles. She handed them to Robert. 

"Tell me what I'm going to do to you, you dirty slut," he commanded. 

In response to his voice, Shelby's cunt poured forth more juices. She moved her ass in small circles to stimulate her clit with the fabric of the thong. As she twisted her ass back and forth, her hands still behind her holding her ass cheeks wide open, she answered Robert in a lustful voice: 

"You will bind my hands behind me, force me to my knees, and fuck my face until I gag and take your cock into my throat." 

Robert slapped her ass again and held her by the back of her thong. 

"That's right, you filthy cock sucker. I'm gonna fuck your face until you gag on my cock and get it dripping wet with your spit. You're gonna take it all, you fucking bitch, and you're gonna like it. If you take me deep and behave like a proper whore, I'll fuck your ass and make you cum." 

Shelby moaned at this last comment. She loved it when her master fucked her up the ass, his powerful arms pushing her down against the bed while the fingers of his right hand massaged her clit. 

"I'll be a fucking fantastic whore, Master," Shelby promised. 

"We'll see about that," Robert breathed into Shelby's ear. 

With a single violent movement, Robert bound Shelby's hands behind her back in the shackles. Still talking into her ear, he cleanched his teeth and held her upper arms firmly in his grip. 

"Listen to me," he said forcefully, his fingertips digging deeply into the flesh of her arm. "Get on your fucking knees and open your mouth." 

Shelby responded immediately, carefully pulling her legs closer together before attempting to kneel. Having her hands bound behind her made kneeling difficult but Robert helped her, roughly pushing her to the ground and forcing her bent legs open with his leg. 

"I'm going to take off my clothes and fuck your dirty mouth, you whore. Tell me how much you're gonna like it while I get undressed. Tell me NOW, you fucking bitch. NOW!" 

Shelby began to tell him how much she wanted it, looking into her master's eyes while she spoke: 

"You're gonna fuck my mouth until I can't breath, you're gonna force your thick cock down my throat and make me choke. I want it so bad, Master, I want it so fucking bad! I want you to fuck your whore's face and make her take all your thick cock! I want all of your...!" 

In that moment, Robert removed his boxers and revealed his 7-inch thick cock throbbing a purplish-pink in Shelby's face. 

Shelby could not speak. She was overcome with longing. 

"Look at it, Baby. Look at it like you love it." 

Shelby's eyes filled with devotion. In fact, she DID love his cock. "I love my master's cock," she said thickly, desire straining her voice. "I love my master's cock." 

Robert's face changed. Impatient to fuck her mouth, he yelled with anger, "Shut the fuck up, Slave." He slapped her cheek and forced her mouth open. "Take it, Bitch." 

He pushed his thick cock into her mouth, grabbing her hair firmly in his hands. His cock was almost too thick for her to accept. The edges of her lips were strained. 

She felt him grab her blond hair even more tightly and pull her into him. The leather restraints cut into her wrists but she ignored the pain, thinking only of his cock going down her throat. 

As he entered her mouth, her tongue rapidly licked the head of his cock. She moaned in anticipation. Soon, he would thrust deep into her throat and cut off her breath. She knew it was coming and she prepared herself. 

"Master will push into my throat," she thought, "and I must not think of breathing." 

Without warning, Robert pushed his cock deep into Shelby's throat. She struggled to breath but then calmed herself. Concentration was required to avoid passing out.

The head of his hard cock in her throat, she constricted her throat muscles rapidly around the head. Robert moaned with pleasure. Just as she felt she would die without air to breath, he pulled out. 

Shelby choked, spittle running down her chin. 

"You want more, don't you my dirty whore." 

"Yes," Shelby strained to answer, tears welling in her eyes. The black eyeliner below her eye began to smear. 

"This time, I'm going to count to ten. You will take me in your throat for ten seconds while you pump me with your throat. Get ready, Bitch." 

He grabbed her hair with his right hand and her face with his left, then said lustfully, "Count to ten, Bitch." 

With a violent thrust, he forced his cock deep into her throat, his balls pressing against her chin. His hand tightened around her face as he began to count, "Ten, nine, eight, seven...." 

Shelby milked his cock head with her throat muscles, concentrating on not breathing until he was done. 

"...three, two, one!" 

He pulled out, a long line of spit hanging from his cock to her open mouth. Shelby gasped with a bark, her eyes tearing. Her master tightened his grip on her face and hair. Shelby braced herself for his next assault. 

"Open wide, Bitch." He forced his cock down her throat again and began to count. Again, Shelby milked his head with her throat. "....seven, six, five...." 

Suddenly, Shelby felt she would pass out if he didn't exit her throat but he kept going, his thrusts relentless. "...three, two, one!" 

Robert pulled out again and Shelby screamed for air, spit and tears now all over her face. Her eye make-up was completely ruined and her lips were thick with white spittle. 

"Do it again, Master," she begged. 

Robert gripped her neck this time and thrust into her throat deeply, his hands choking her while his cock cut off all her breathe. 

"Ten, nine, eight, seven...." 

His counting seemed to take forever but Shelby held on, constricting her throat muscles to give his cock head pleasure. Again, at the count of one, he exited her throat. 

This time, she spasmed violently and coughed loudly while struggling to breath, spit pouring from her mouth onto her breasts and his cock. 

For the next hour, he fucked her face the same way, counting to ten while he constricted her breathing and clenched her face, neck or hair. He fucked her throat again and again until Shelby thought she might pass out. 

Mercifully, he decided to fuck her. 

"Get to your feet, Slave." 

Shelby's legs were weak from kneeling so long, and her body was weary from holding her breath again and again while he fucked her mouth. 

Impatiently, Robert helped her to her feet and threw her onto the bed. 

"Get on your stomach," he commanded. 

She struggled to move with her hands still bound behind her back but finally found a way to slither into position. Without being asked, she knew to lay on her stomach perpendicular to the wall and open her legs as far as possible. 

Robert opened her ass cheeks with his hands and spit repeatedly on her asshole. He smeared the juices of her cunt into the spit and penetrated her asshole with one, then two fingers. Shelby moaned with pleasure. 

"You want me to fuck you, Bitch?" he asked. 

Shelby moaned, "Yeah, Master, fuck that ass." 

Robert forced his hard cock into her puckered hole and began to fuck her hard. "Take...my...cock...you...fucking...bitch!", he screamed in between thrusts. 

Shelby moaned with pleasure. She loved to have her tight asshole fucked. 

With every thrust, Shelby screamed, "Yes! Yes! Like that...yes! Fuck my asshole, Baby! Just like that!" 

Robert rode her tight little asshole hard until he suddenly spasmed. His cum poured into her. While he softened inside her, he put his arm around her waist and began to massage her clit. Shelby was drenched in her cunt juices and his cum, and his fingers slipped around her clit easily. 

"Oh, yes...yes, make that clit come! Yes, Master...oh, yes...uhhh....uh....!" Within seconds, she came hard, bucking her body beneath him while her clit spasmed. 

Robert massaged her clit beyond her orgasm until she felt pain. "Stop, Master! Please!" she begged. Playfully, he bit her neck and pressed her clit hard one last time.

"There you go, Bitch."

Exhausted, Robert rolled over beside her and took her face in his hands. He kissed her gently, his tongue lazily caressing her own. In a whisper, he said, "You're a fucking good cock slut, Baby."

Shelby smiled and returned his kiss, her tongue probing his mouth.

"Thank you, Master."



Face Fucked By My Sister



"What's this," I ask my sister in amazement and shock as I pull out a large patent leather strap-on and black dildo out of one of her boxes.

"That's nothing," she blurts out, "you probably didn't want to see that."

"Well," I say, "what did you have it for?"

"None of your business," she laughs as she tries to grab it from my hands.

"I'm making it my business," I smirk as I keep the dildo and harness away from her.

"Quit quoting Pulp Fiction," she says as she finally grabs the large end of the dildo.

"Shut up Erin," I reply as I hand over her funky sex toy.

"Look," she starts, "I moved in with you so I could get my life back on track. Allen and I had a hideous divorce and I don't need you being stupid."

"Shit," I reply, "sorry, I didn't mean to get you all worked up."

"Don't worry," she says, "the past couple of weeks have been pretty shitty to me. Allen took nearly everything, the house, my car, but he didn't get his favorite sex toy though."

"And what would his favorite sex toy be," I ask as I begin to move another box from one side of the room to the other.

"This strap-on," she laughs, "he loved this thing!"

"Oh yeah," I say as I move the box around.

"He loved the fuck out of it," she says as she keeps looking at the dildo.

"I bet," I say as I move some more junk off the bed.

"I'm going to step outside real quick," she says as she walks out of the room. 

"All right," I say as I get the last couple of boxes and bags off the bed. 

I keep working as she walks out of the room. I keep looking around at some of the things and find a few of her wedding pictures. She seemed so happy that day. And that was only a few years ago. I wish our parents could've seen it. I gave her away that day. It was a lot of fun for all of us. But I guess Allen was a jerk and it didn't work out.

"He loved this fucking thing," I hear her say as I continue looking through her things.

"I can only imagine," I reply as I move another box from the other side of the room.

"Stuart, look at me," she demands.

I turn around to see my sister standing in the doorway wearing absolutely nothing. Her blonde hair covers her large breasts. I notice that her abs are tight and just below them is the patent leather strap-on with its large black dildo. Her legs are tight as well. I know she works out. And on her feet is a pair of pink skimmers. (Author's Note: Why do I all of a sudden like these kinds of shoes. In my Avril Lavigne story she wore skimmers. And in Anaya's Carwash she wore the same shoes. Actually I know, but I'm not telling, but if you ask, maybe I'll let you know!)

"Oh shit," I say staring in awe of my own sister."

"Just like that ski trip last year," she smirks.

"Fuck," I say as I begin to get undressed.

"We had lots of fun that day," she laughs.

"Oh yeah," I say as I get all of my clothes off, "so where do you want to do this?"

"By the pool," she says as she grabs my hand.

We rush outside and go to the pool. My socks get a little wet from the dew on the ground. She leads me over to one of the benches and sits me down. She shoves the dildo in my face and I comply by sucking on it. At first it takes me a while to get used to the feeling of something large being in my mouth. But my jaw relaxes and I'm able to engulf most of the dildo.

"I've never done this before," I say as I pull myself off the dildo.

"Shut the fuck up," she laughs, "You've done this a thousand times!"

"Okay," I say, "but those were real cocks! I've never done it with a fake one."

"First time for everything," she says as she shoves the dildo back into me.

I the pretend it's a real cock and my dick gets even harder. I keep sucking with great intensity. I grab my sister's ass to gain more leverage on the dildo. I keep sucking it until I gag! The saliva in my mouth has run out. 

"Can I kiss you," I ask with my dry voice.

"Sure," she replies as I give her a big kiss on the mouth. 

I feel much better after kissing her. I quickly suck on he nipple and stand up and look down on my sister.

"I can't believe we're doing this," I smirk.

"I can," she laughs.

"How about you sit down," I offer.

"Sure," she replies as we trade places.

She grabs the back of my head as I begin to suck on her big black dick. She forces my mouth down the length of the dildo and I gag again. I keep going at it; I'm able to get the entire shaft down my mouth. I keep sucking it even more. I spit into my hand and begin to jerk off. I stare at her shoes as I suck her cock and stoke mine. She then stands up and violently face fucks me. I feel a tear run down my cheek as her hips force the dildo into me! I keep stoking my cock.

"You like that," she asks.

"Ye--," I begin as I take my mouth off her cock.

"Keep sucking," she demands, "don't say a damn thing."

I comply and continue her wishes. She keeps forcing it into me. But I keep taking it. I work my finger into her mouth. She sucks on it and gets it wet. I quickly take it out of her mouth. I'm able to keep it wet. I slowly work my finger inside of my ass. It doesn't hurt that much. I've been fucked there so many times it isn't even funny. I maintain my balance and jerk off and finger fuck myself at the same time. And just as soon I get the rhythm down, I hit my prostate and I begin to cum. I pull my finger out of my ass and put my hand on the ground. My cock then sprays out its load all onto her leg and a little bit gets on her shoe. I keep sucking after I cum.

"The fuck," she says as she pushes me to the ground.

"What," I ask in exhaustion.

"You got your faggot cum all over my shoe," she yells out.

"Sorry," I reply as she begins to walk away from me.

"That's not good enough," she laughs as she runs for the sliding glass door to the house.

"Fuck," I say as she runs off.

I have a hard time regaining my balance as she makes a dash for the door. I get to the door as she locks and closes it. I knock on the glass and she flips me off. I flip her off as well. 

"Go around front you faggot," she yells from the inside, "I'll let you in."

"Okay," I yell back as I walk around the front.

I knock on the door and get no answer. I check the storm door it's locked too. I quickly smell my finger and realize I should wipe better. I keep knocking on the door, no answer. She finally opens the regular door and begins to taunt me.

"Apologize," she demands.

"I'm sorry about your shoes," I say trying to cover up my body.

"What got on my shoes," she asks.

"My cum," I reply.

Just then I notice a police cruiser slowly making its way down the street.

"What kind of cum," she asks.

"Faggot cum," I say almost sweating bullets.

"Good," she smirks as the car gets closer, "now say you're sorry about the faggot cum!"

"I'm sorry that I got my faggot cum getting on your beautiful shoes and leg," I say in one quick breath.

"You can come in," she says as she unlocks the door.

I get inside just as the police cruiser passes my house. She slams the door shut. I walk in the living room and see 20 more pairs of the skimmer shoes laid out neatly.

"What the fuck," I ask.

"Oh," she laughs, "I have like a shitload of those shoes."



Face of an Angel



I loaded up the old truck with the tent, sleeping bags, and packed up extra food just incase I wanted to stay longer. Locked up the house and I ran for the truck before the phone rang again. I seemed like it was driving for hours until I saw the old path dad used to drive up when we where kids. I almost missed the turn because of the coverage that had grown through the years. The path was only big enough for one vehicle to go down and after all the years it was hard to get the old truck though. 

Placing this backpack on seems heavier now then at home. The walk to the clearing seemed just as beautiful as the first time I was here. After setting up the tent the getting the camping site set up I need to collect wood for the fire pit I made. The sun was setting and I was getting hungry. I was able to collect enough wood to start the fire for dinner but not enough for the cool evening. Walking back into the woods the light from the mood seemed to fade into the top of the trees, and the darkness made it harder to collect twigs. Heading back to the camp, my foot must have taken a wrong step because the next thing I remember falling and rolling down a hill, hitting twigs and tree branches along the way. It seemed like I was rolling and falling down this slope forever, until I came to blunt stop. Looking up at the top trees, I had to laugh to myself a grown women falling down and still holding on to the twigs she has collect.

After I few minutes I reanalyzed it was the laughter that was bring tears to my eyes but my leg was hurting. I looked down to see my pant leg was torn and seeing my own blood socking up my pant leg to a bright red. My head was throbbing, and I knew I must have hit it hard on the fall down. I knew I could not climb back up the hill with this leg but I needed to get back to the campsite. It seemed like I was stumbling with the woods for hours, I was hurt, hungry and tried. As I sat on a log to look around and find my bearings, I noticed a small light shining thought the trees. I pulled myself up slowly and headed to the light. As I came to the clearing of this campsite I knew it was not mine, I saw two women enjoying the light of the campfire. I tried to let them know of my presents but I was unable to say a word, the pain seem to throb through my head, I saw them standing up and staring at me but both of them seem to be so blurry and all I remember after that was seeing the ground greet me.

Waking up I was looking into the face of an angel or what I thought was my guardian angel. The most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen, with sandy brown long hair. 

"Hello sleepy head" 

"You had us worried here"

"How long have I been here?'

"A couple of hours"

"I need to get back to my campsite'

As I tried to lift my head up things started to spin out of control, my leg seem to send signals to my brain to take it easy and rest. I felt a hand on the back of my head and one gently pulling my back down to rest my head on a the pillow. I had to open my eyes one more time to look at this angel before falling asleep, but.....

My eyes seem to be trying to focus what was in front of me. I could see the sky above me faded by a mesh above me. I pulled myself up remember how the last time the world seem to start spin. Everything seems to fall into place as I heard voice coming from outside the tent opening. I wanted so bad to see the angel that saved me last night. I tried to stand but lost my balance and fell to the ground. As I looked up my, angel was smiling down at me with a smile on her face and one hand on her hip. She was wearing a thin white tee shirt and blue jeans that seem to fit like a glove. The sun seem to shine behind her and I was able to see the out line shadow of her body. She must have felt my eyes moving across her body. 

She reached out her hand as I reached for her open hand she guided me to my feet and we walked out of the tent into sun. The sun felt so warn on my face but not as warn as the feel of her touch. I would have walked for hours if she asked me too. She led me to a log to rest my back on as she took the bandage off my leg. 

"There now see, this is not looking as bad as I thought"

Looking down at my leg she was right, it was scratched up and sore, but the bleeding had stopped. All I wanted was to tell her thank you for helping me and get back to my campsite and lay down. I was so hungry she must have read my mind because she was handing me some fruit, and a cup of coffee.

Watching her move around and cleaning as if she was cleaning the house, I could not take my eyes off her. She walked over to me and kneeled down placing her hand on my thigh. I could feel my pulse start racing as she slide her hand higher, I was sure she could hear my heart pounding. Her eyes seemed to lock into mine; she leaned in so slowly until I felt the touch of her lips touching mine. My head started to spin as it had last night, my leg seem to send signals to my brain, but this time I promised my self I was not going to pass out from the pain, but this time enjoying anything this angel had in mind for me. Her kiss started so soft and slow, as if she was afraid, she would hurt me. Within seconds my body started to shiver wanting more of her, she must have felt my body move to her kiss, her kiss became more intense and I could no longer feel any pain in my leg, only thing that was hurting was the ache I felt inside of this mystery lady that seem to be for filling my inter needs. Suddenly she pulled back and looked at me, as if to tell me it was my turn to make the next move. I placed my hands around her hips and pulled her body into mine. She was the sexiest woman I had ever seen. I place my lips into hers and she responded with moving her hips to rhythm of our kiss.

I hand slid up and down her sides as if they where meant for me to touch. My hands where shaking as I stared to gently nibbled on her earlobe between my teeth, nibbling until I heard her gasp for a breath I continued working my way down her neck. As my eyes saw, her shapely breasts moving to the deep breathe movements within her. I need to feel and touch this beautiful lady, She must have felt the need and hunger I felt inside for her, she reached down and lifted her tee shift over her head. Her breasts where so round and firm, as she leaded into my chest I could feel her breasts pushing into mine, her nipples rubbing against the fabric of my t-shirt. I touched her silky smooth skin as my tongue teased her nipples, as her head fall back and she was now closing her eyes rocking to the movement of my tongue. 

"Having fun, are we?" 

I was a startled by the sound of a low sexy female voice. My head snapped up to look into the brown eyes of the lady that stood before me. As my heart raced for the thought of being caught with this beautiful lady in my arms I tried to speak but before I could say a word She jumped up and put her arms around this ladies Neck and starting kiss her.

"Hey baby, I thought you would never get here in time to join us for lunch"

"And what is for desert or did I miss that too?'

I felt like I was had just been a mouse caught in a trap. I had forgotten that when I walked into this camp there where two people here. I must have had a look of extreme confusion on my face because ... came over and said 

"Hi am Ellen and I can already see you have meet Kelly. So it won't be necessary for me to introduce my lovely wife'

Wife OH MY GOD! I was making love to someone wife. As Ellen walked toward me I knew I was in no shape to fight back with whatever this lady was going to throw at me, so I stood up as best as I could and thinking of how I was going to apologize to the 2 ladies that had welcomed me into their camp. Ellen stepped toward me and griped my arm as I lost my balance.

"Please no need to stand, let's get you back down so you do not do any more damage to that leg of yours"

The rest of the day was spent talking, eating, and laughing. There was a stream a couple feet form their campsite, which allowed then to catch fish for dinner. As the day light faded to hands of the moon light, we had a couple of beers and as fire was dying a sense of fear started to flood over me when I realized there was only one tent and three women. I stood up to say thank you and tell them it was time for me to leave, my next thought accrued to me I did not even know where my campsite was. Just then, they started planning the sleeping arrangements. I was going sleep next Kelly, and Ellen would sleep on the other side. They explained to me if one of then did not hear me in the middle of the night, maybe the other one would. Made since I guess, I was not able to move by myself yet. Besides Ellen said she was a hard sleeper and she does not hear too much once she was asleep. Ellen put the fire out and we retired for the evening. 

I was waked during the night by the soft touch of a hand. At first, I thought it was by mistake but she hand keep squeezing mine so firm but gentle, she was moving closer with each stroke of her hand. I could feel her breath on my face as she gently pulled my face to hers. Her kiss tasted so sweet and was so intense my mind was racing and my body was shaking as if it was overwhelmed with something that I had never encountered before. I gasped as her slide her hand over my breasts she started to tease my nipples with her fingers, until I groaned and thought I would explode. I rolled over to my side to face the lady that had awaken theses emotions inside of me. I learned over to kiss her with the passion she had stirred inside of me. She pulled me with her kiss until I was lying on top of her. To my surprise, she looked at me with lust-filled eyes. I could not help myself. I kissed her passionately. Her body seemed to move with each movement of my kiss. I was driving myself insane with the feel of this erotic woman yet knowing was forbidden for me, while her partner was lying beside us made it more exciting. 

The feel of her hands running up and down my back made a shudder ripple through me that ached for more. I found myself sliding down her chest until my mouth was just inches away from her nipple, she arched her back as if to make sure I would not miss any part of her. As my tongue brushed against the tip of her nipples, you could barely hear her voice softly asking for more, while her body was moving more with each touch my tongue. She slid her hands down to my ass, and my clit started to stir with each touch of her hand. I started to kiss her stomach, while running my hands down her sides until they reached on her thighs, but not without grazing my fingers along the way until I reached her sweet spot. Her sweet smell was more then I could handle, I need to taste her sweet juices. I glazed the tip of my tongue across her clit as she made a soft groan and raised her hips this time asking for more. I worked my tongue in a slow circular motion, listening to the soft groans with each flick of my tongue. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Ellen had joined us and her and Kelley where kissing while Ellen was toying with her nipples. Ellen moved behind me and her erect nipples raked my back. She pressed her hot clit against my ass as she reached around to play with my nipples while my tongue was kissing her wife. Kelley was teasing her nipples between her fingers with the rhythm of my tongue. 

You could hear her heavy breathing as she whispered, "Fuck me with your sweet tongue." 

She tangled her hands in my hair and she was pushing my head deeper into her with each stroke my tongue. As my tongue entered into her, her body started to shiver while her fingers dug deeper into my hair. Ellen had slide down my back and slipped her face between my legs. As her tongue started to touch my clit, I started to become a bit nervous about the whole thing, or maybe I was imagining it, wanting it so bad that my fantasy was taking me over. But my tongue was enjoying the taste of Kelley's sweet juices to really notice how much my body was enjoying the feel of two women making love to me. Kelly's sweet voice whispered, "make me cum, I want to cum for you" At the moment I felt Ellen enter my pussy, and everything I seem to be holding back exploded in side me. Ellen was fuckingme with slow easy stokes, until Kelly started moving around and moaning more and more. Ellen stoking became harder and faster, as if to dare me too me to make her wife cum. Ellen ran her finger nail down my back, making me ach my back until she could slide her hands around my nibbles. Just at the moment, my world seems to explode, Kelly was now screaming as I ran my tongue faster and harder on her clit. She was pulling my head deeper in to her with every flick of my tongue. Ellen was fucking me so hard it made every fiber in my body yelling, as I if I could no longer stand it. Kelly's orgasm seems to last as long as mine, but to taste her, made me want more, but the pain in my head and leg seem to be winning at this moment. As we lay down on bed Kelly and Ellen both lying on each side of my chest, as I raped my arms around them. They kissed each other good night, 

"Ellen?"

'Yes dear'

"I love you"

"I love you more sweet heart, you get some sleep"

After hearing that all that seemed to fill my head was the though of making love to them one more time.

As I woke up to the morning sun, I realized I was the one in the tent, which was fine with me, I got replay the night before in my head. At that moment, I heard a truck pull up in the campsite. Pushing myself up and pulling my cloths on I walked out of the tent and realized the truck I heard was mine. Ellen explained she followed my tracks of where I had fallen down the hill and she packed up my tent and brought it too the campsite. I was never so thrilled so my old truck, when I realized I would never see my new friend again. As Kelly drove my truck and Ellen drove theirs, we came to a small town hospital. We said our goodbyes and tears seem to run down my face. I was trying to explain it's was the pain in leg was hurting, and to meet great friends that help me, but Kelly assured me her leg did not hurt.

Worked was so demanding the next couple of months, I knew I needed to get away even if it was for a couple of days. I loaded up the old truck with the tent, sleeping bags, and packed up extra food just incase I wanted to stay longer. Locked up the house and tried to run for the truck before the phone rang again, but this time I was too late. I told deep breath thinking, work surly could do without me for a couple of days. 

"Hello"

"I am not sure if you remember us, but this is Kelly and Ellen and we where wondering if you would mind going camping with us this weekend?"



Face of Love



Face it in this age of electronic wizardry there is not much call for portrait artists. Things were so bad for me I was ready to go do caricatures in the park to try to make my rent. You can imagine my jubilation when Mr. Audrey Van Pelth asked me to paint his daughter for her eighteenth birthday.  Of course, I knew who the Van Pelths were everyone in town knew of the Van Pleths, probably the richest family in the state. However, the daughter I had never seen and I was eager to get a look at my new work.

I arrived at their estate early, ready to work. The maid showed me to a sitting room where Mrs. Van Pelth awaited me. "Young man, my husband feels we are taking a large risk in hiring you, a virtual unknown to paint my daughter. Nonetheless, I have picked you for two reasons, I have seen some of your work, and I think you quite good. I also know that you are, as they say, 'A struggling artist' and therefore I am hoping I can convince you to paint my daughter as we desire to see her." "Yes Mam you are entirely correct and it would be my honor to portray your daughter as you wish." Her instructions to me were not to show the extra weight the daughter had gained since school. Mrs. Van Pelth was a known health fanatic and was sure her daughter would be as well once she understood the dangers of extra weight ergo the desire of a portrait of a slim young lady.

We then went to meet the subject and once I had seen her, I was glad I had agreed to Mrs. Van Pelth's wishes before I met her. The girls name was Gwendolyn or Gwen as she like to be called. To me she belonged in a Botticelli, as she looked more goddess than human. As mothers always do, Mrs. van Pelth started right in on her daughter, telling her to sit straight and pestering her with questions about morning exercises, diet, and such. This turned the girl sullen and I knew at once this was the look I wanted from my model. I knew I had to get her away from her mother so I used the ploy of studio light to get what I wanted.  It was a arraigned for a car to bring Miss Gwen to my studio at ten each morning until the work was finished.

From the very first morning, Gwen and I became co-conspirators against her family. She hated her mother; she hated her school and most of all she hated the dress her mother wanted for her pose. I told her we would do two works one for her family and one for us. She like that idea and pulled off her clothes leaving only her bra and sexy thong. I told her not to listen to her mother and that she was not fat but more voluptuous than any woman I'd known. She enjoyed this attention and turned out to be quite a tease when not under the thumb of her family. She  sat in her bra saying that is how she wished to pose. I told her the bra was too matronly for a sexy young lady and she flipped the bra off her large breasts.

I came close to pose her but what I really wanted was just to be next to her. I lifted her breast and when I heard a soft moan escape her, I knew she wished the same as I. With one hand under her breast, I used the other trying to stimulate her nipple and as I looked into her eyes so dark and haunting I said I needed her nipple erect for proper perspective. "Ah but you see your mouth is not quite the way it needs to be." I leaned in to her and kissed those molten lips large, full, and unrouged. She returned my kisses with passion, and then she brought her nipple so small for so large a breast, to my lips. As I held it in my lips, I teased it with my tongue and still it barely stuck above her large areola. 

We were now both enflamed with lust and all pretexts were lost to passion. We went to my bed in the corner where this vixen pushed me on the bed and then climbed on top of me. Her wild and untamed hair hung down in my face and the look from her eyes smoldered. I pulled her head down to taste the fullness of her lips yet again as I struggled with my trousers. As for her, she just moved the scant piece of lace aside and then impaled herself on my rod. Between her strong thighs, I was her willing captive and she rode me wildly until she climaxed with a shudder and I followed quickly.

We cleaned up with tissue and I went to get us something to drink, when I returned she was sitting up in my bed. I told her not to move and grabbed my pad for a quick sketch. Her look was sultry and adult as it showed her true beauty. 

I did complete the painting the family wanted and I'm proud to say it hangs in their foyer to this day. Yet the one I'm happiest with of hangs over my bed and Gwen and I enjoy it the most. 





Face Off



All characters are fictional and, as I've created them, I can assure you they have attained majority (18 or older). 

*

Usually I can suppress it. I can go months without the need creeping up on me. But when it does, oh boy, you better watch out, 'cause I can't stop myself. And it don't take much to set me off.

So I'm at this conference my company puts on once a year during the first week of December. It was my first time being sent as I'm the new kid in my department, but the rep who usually attends took some personal time to help with the delivery and care of his new baby. No one else wanted to go so I was elected, unanimously.

Being the youngest member of the team I was excited to meet my counterparts from the rest of our division offices in North America. You know, put a face to the phone voice you deal with week in and week out. But it turned out to be more boring than I thought it would be, and by the third day, I was ready to go back home to my hum-drum life. That is, until our guest speaker showed up the last night of the conference.

He was the Chief Technical Officer for our company. I guess he was in his early fifties, average in every way except two: He had the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen and the most perfect salt and pepper full beard; just like the one my father has worn for years. And that's the crux of the matter. You see, this "need" of mine all started because of my dad some ten years ago, when I had just turned fourteen.

It was late that night. My boobs hurt as I was going through another growth spurt. No matter what I did, rub them, wash them, squeeze them or stand in front of my little room fan, they hurt. To top it off, the more I rubbed them, the more I tingled down there. I decided to ask my mom to help me figure out what was wrong with me. As it was after midnight, the hall lights were off so I made my way down to my parent's bedroom carefully. When I got to the door, I saw it was ajar so I peeked in. What I saw confused me.

My daddy was kneeling on the floor, next to the bed. Mom was scooted up to the edge and had her legs spread. Daddy's head was buried between my mother's legs. They were both naked. I didn't understand but waited a minute to see what was happening.

After a minute, mom started moaning and twisting on the bed. Because I thought something was wrong with mom I walked into the room and asked, "Daddy. What's wrong with mommy."

I've never seen two people move so fast in my life.

My mother quickly swung one leg over my dad's head and stood up then walked up to me.

"Oh sweetie. Nothing's wrong. Come on now. Let's get you back to bed. You can tell mommy why you're up at this hour." She walked over to me and put her arm around me.

"Come on. Let's get you back to bed. Are you okay?"

I looked around her shoulder and saw my dad stand up. He was holding his hands over his penis to cover up, but it was his beard that got my attention. It was soaking wet, and matted. I wondered if mom had accidentally peed on his face. I thought maybe she was sick.

When we got back to my bedroom, my mom walked with me over to my bed. She pulled the sheet back, patted the bed and helped me get comfy. Then she sat on the edge of the bed.

That night my mom and I talked for hours. She had already explained the "birds and bees" to me when I got my first period, but this night, she told me just about everything she could about recreational sex, especially oral sex. I never saw the world the same way again.

Though my dad was a bit stand offish for a few days after, our lives quickly got back to normal. I started masturbating a few days later.

In high school, I gave my first blowjob and when I got to college, I offered my virginity to my boyfriend at the time. Both experiences were great, but I still felt something was missing. Over Thanksgiving, during my junior year at college, my boyfriend went home to his folks while I went to my house to be with my family. The Friday after our feast, I got a phone call from my boyfriend's dad. It seems his son had a snowmobile accident and would be a couple of weeks late getting back to school.

I begged my folks and his to let me go be with him, but cool heads prevailed and I went back to school. Two weeks later, my boyfriend showed up to continue the semester. I was floored the first time I saw him.

He'd lost a few pounds and walked with the use of crutches as his ankle was in a cast, but it was his face that took my breath away. He'd grown a beard. I thought he was the sexiest man alive.

That first night back together, after giving him a blowjob, I convinced him to let me ride his face. I was in ecstasy. I came so much he thought I peed and I think it kind of scared him a bit. But me, I knew what had happened. I'd released seven years of pent up desire, getting exactly what I imagined I'd get from oral sex and what I thought it would be like the days after my mom had explained the "rest of the facts of life" to me back then.

Unfortunately, from then on I became a bit of a bore only wanting to use his bearded face as the instrument of my pleasure. After awhile the novelty wore off for him and our relationship slowly dissolved. Oh well.

I'm not one to fuck any guy just 'cause I got an itch. From then on I dated, but I didn't seem to get a big enough spark from any of my dates to warrant sharing my sexuality with them. I did however, go away for a weekend with my old boyfriend, you know, for old time's sake, but it wasn't the same him being all clean shaved and such. The sex was nice, even welcome, but there were no real explosions from my perspective.

Then I graduated and wound up working for the company who had now sent me off to this convention, the convention where I'd just seen the man who I knew I was going to seduce, come hell or high water.

"Mr. Barnes."

"Yes."

"Mr. Barnes," I repeated. "I'm Susan Connelly. I work out of our Dallas office."

"Nice to meet you Susan."

"Thank you sir. Mr. Barnes..."

"Paul. Please. Mr. Barnes makes me seem so old."

"Okay. Paul. Thank you for your insight into the problems our team causes when entering data that is not properly tagged."

"You're welcome."

"I was wondering."

"Yes, Susan."

"I was wondering if I might join you for a drink at cocktail hour. I have a bunch more questions and I can see the line of people wanting to talk to you is pretty long right now."

"I'd be delighted," he answered. "I should be down about 7:00 to 7:15."

"Great! See you then."

When I got up to my room, I was agitated. I'd never really seduced anyone before, especially someone so much older and distinguished. I debated whether to wear something low cut or sensible. I settled on sensible and to this day I'm glad I did.

When I met Paul for a drink, we seemed to hit it off right away. I kept the questions coming and he even said a couple of ideas my questions posed had never occurred to him before. I felt like I'd just been complimented on my violin recital.

After we'd had a couple cocktails, I asked Paul if he had plans to dine with anyone. He said he didn't so I suggested we head to the hotel's restaurant for dinner. He readily agreed.

At dinner, Paul ordered a decent bottle of wine, and by the time dessert came, we both had rosy cheeks. I suggested a nightcap and Paul asked me in a very matter of fact tone if I was up for anything else.

I leaned over the table and whispered, "you have no idea what's on my mind. So, let's get straight to the bar, do a couple shots and I'll tell you exactly what I'm up for."

Paul grinned.

At the bar, our eyes never left each other. I was smitten and I think he was feeling like a stud who'd just cut out a filly from the herd for his siring needs. It was going to be a long sex filled night. Or so I thought.

We decided to go to my room. On the way, there was much hustle and bustle by the hotel staff. Paul asked if anything was the matter, and the concierge indicated a huge blizzard was moving toward us faster than anyone had anticipated.

Oh goody, I thought, maybe the airport will be snowed in and I'll get an extra few hours with Paul. As it turned out, I had no idea just how many extra hours I'd get.

We opened the curtains of my room to look outside and saw nothing. The sky was so dark the only thing visible were the snowflakes swirling up against the window and only visible because of the light coming from my room. It was eerie and made more so by the rattling of the windows and the howling of the wind.

"Goodness, this looks ominous," Paul said. "It'd be terrible if we got snowed in."

"Sure would," I lied.

I went to the complimentary bar and opened a couple of scotches for us. We were drunk enough all ready, but something about the snowstorm raging outside made me think another shot might be in order.

I poured and we toasted chance encounters.

"Do you like oral sex," I asked straight out.

Paul about spit his drink out.

"Who doesn't," he answered after he recovered.

"Well then Mr. Paul. I suggest we get naked pretty darn quick here and play a bit of give and take."

"Give and take. That's a game I really like. Who gives and who takes first?"

"Tell you what," I answered. "I'll give and you take. Then, when you've had a short while to revel in being the receiver, I'll then take from you what I think you'll agree will be a fair measure of exchange."

"Fair enough," he said.

Now there's a goodly number of ways one can give a blow-job. But mostly, other than variations on physical manipulations, the difference really comes down to the attitude of the giver. Is the giver submissive, controlling, reluctant, enthusiastic, and so forth? Will the receiver even understand the attitude of the giver? But my attitude is to give as good as I possibly can so when it's my turn I get exactly what I need in return. No arguments. I take charge. In this case, I needed to ride Paul's bearded face like a Pony Express delivery man moving mail cross county. I meant to be saddled for a good long time. But, as fate would have it, such was not to be the case. Just as I took Paul's cock in my mouth, the power went out.

"Uh-oh. I don't think this is a very good sign," I heard Paul say.

I suggested we better get dressed in case the temperature dropped before they could get the hotel generators cranked up. It's a good thing I did because the generators took four hours to get up and running.

We dressed and hopped under the covers. But it quickly became apparent it was not going to be warm enough.

Paul told me to sit tight as his room was on the same floor. He went to get extra bed clothes but came back empty handed. He couldn't get the auto lock to disengage on his room's door. 

It's a good thing, I waited with the door open while he went on his little sojourn or he might have missed my room altogether and have been stuck in the hall for the duration.

For the next four hours, we just hugged each other. It's funny how dangerous situations bring people closer, but in that four hour period of time, I felt, in the end, as if I'd always known Paul. And we still hadn't got back to the sex.

It was at the beginning of the third hour that the bite of the cold started in. 

By the beginning of the fourth hour, we were shivering. But there was nothing much we could do except wait.

When the lights finally came back on, I could see frosty air emanating from Paul's nostrils and mouth. He looked like a Viking now that his hair was messed up. I don't think I've ever been more relieved for modern conveniences and I'd never been more in need of a good face-fuck, both as the giver and as the receiver.

I got us another scotch each to take the bite off the cold. As the whisky worked its magic, I sat on the bed huddled up against Paul.

"You okay?"

I told him I was fine but my itch was back and needed scratching. 

He laughed and said "mine too."

I asked him if he thought I was pretty.

"I think you're very pretty," he answered. "Why?"

"I saw this video once where this very beautiful porn star got faced fucked by this guy. It was one of the most exciting things I'd ever seen in porn. I want you to ravage my mouth with that beautiful cock of yours just like the guy in the video did to that girl."

"Wow. Your attitude towards sex and your imagination and way with words, is way more powerful than any little blue pill."

"Prove it," I challenged.

So he did. I don't think I've ever been violated like that before. I asked for it and I got exactly what I asked for. My face was fucked.

When he came he came with a force I'm sure he hadn't experienced in a long while. He kept shooting his goo into my ravaged throat in copious salvos. 

I swallowed every drop sucking his dick as hard as I could even after it started to go soft. When I felt him wince with the pain of my forceful sucking, I stopped.

"Stay on the bed," I commanded as I got up and went to the mirror. I looked a mess, but to my way of thinking, I'd never been more beautiful in my life.

"My turn," I said returning to the bed. "You just lay there and I'll do all the work."

He did.

I mounted his face and he barely got his tongue in my cunt when I had my first orgasm. And they didn't stop.

I rode his bearded face and came.

I rode harder and came harder.

I couldn't stop. The harder I rode that magnificent face, the harder I came.

I soaked his beard a thousand times over and over again. I felt like I couldn't stop or be stopped. But of course, all good things come to an end.

After who know how many orgasms, maybe a dozen or more, I feinted.

I remember dreaming of a giant polar bear rescuing me from a frozen ice-flow. Strangely, I wasn't afraid. I was cold, but I wasn't afraid.

When I awoke, it was morning. 

The snow still fell outside, but the little daylight that made it through the window, illuminated Paul's magnificent face and matted beard. I smiled.

I made coffee and the smell woke Paul. "Still snowing, huh?"

I told him it looked like the kind of storm that was going to last the day.

"Oh my," he mused, "whatever will we do?"

"Each other, I hope."

"You betcha, but I gotta eat something or this mild headache's gonna turn into a full-blown hangover."

We dressed and went to the lobby coffee shop. As it was late morning, there were few patrons left seated. Paul asked the hostess if there was any food left.

"There's enough for today and tomorrow," she replied. "But after that, we're gonna have to ration if this storm keeps up." 

While we were being shown our table, I thought of the old time song that has the recurring line, "let it snow, let it snow, let it snow." I grinned all the way until we were seated.

As we ate breakfast, I wondered what the hostess thought of Paul and me. 

Every once in a while I'd catch her looking over at us. As she was closer to Paul's age, I thought he and I probably made an odd couple. But that's what I thought someone else might think. When I thought about itbthough, I thought we made a great couple. We both worked in the same industry, heck, we both worked for the same company.

We both liked rough oral sex. And if last night's escapade was any indication I knew I'd found the perfect face for me. 

As for Paul, he could rough fuck any part of me he wanted anytime he wanted as long as I got that face of his under me a good many more times before we had to go back to our "real" lives. So for two glorious days, we fucked each other ragged. He even taught me how to give him a rim job, something I'd never even considered doing before. I asked him to hose my face with his cum and that was one more thing I could add to my "now I've done it" list.

But, no matter what silly writers or movie directors want you to believe, even when you have a stud and a filly perfectly matched up, there comes a time when you just need to sleep. At the end of the third night, the storm lessened (at the time it seemed like a metaphor for our dalliances) and we slept. 

We slept 'til 2:00 O'clock the day we were to check out and got charged an extra day for not leaving the hotel until well after 7:00 PM. But it was worth every penny.

At the airport, as we waited for our respective planes, Paul asked me if I wanted to transfer to his city and become his personal assistant. I hadn't known it at the time, but he was about to be promoted to company president. "Only if you never shave your beard."

He promised he wouldn't.

Of course I agreed.

At Christmas, while I was home with mom and dad, I asked my mother if she ever wanted to have dad shave off his beard. 

She said no, she liked him just the way he was.

I told her I understood perfectly.



Face (Sex, Power, Love)



"Honey, I'm home."

My heart stopped. I had not expected Gina for another hour, and I hadn't finished my list of chores. The biting sarcasm of Gina's cheery sitcom greeting sunk in and my heart jump-started with an explosion of shame. I looked up from the kitchen sink. Gina stood motionless at the entry door in her ankle length fur, hand on hip, glaring, askance. Her beauty struck me to stone. Inexplicable guilt seared my heart, fear froze my will, and lust clotted my throat.

"Well?" She raised a hand as if to accept something from me. What did she want? What did my beautiful tyrant want? With a nasty laugh, she grudgingly conceded to my stupidity, "Look you lazy, uncouth, bumpkin, don't you know enough to help a lady with her coat?"

I managed an arid mumble, "Yes mam. I'm sorry." I grabbed a towel to dry my hands and turned to go to her. In my rush to wait on Gina, my hip struck the corner of the kitchen counter. Pain flashed, balance faltered, and I crashed to the floor into a heap of fresh hurts. A wave of worry washed over the pile of aches. I had again failed my Gina; I was ridiculous, incompetent. How would she punish her stumbling, bungling slave? Would she detest me yet more, or would this ludicrous new humiliation simply amuse her?

I had been tripping and slipping all day from a chain Gina had attached between my ankles before she left in the morning, but this was the first time I had actually fallen. Gina had been all smiles and cheer as she locked the chain in place, "Oh don't be such a baby. This is just for fun; it's just a little game. You like playing games with me, right honey? I want to think of my sweet, loving honeybunch chained up at home right where I want him. Chains are just the perfect symbol of security, restraint, and obedient love. You will play my game; you will wear my chain, won't you? Please, sweetie pie, honey face, sugar tongue?" Her jeering grin transformed into an exultant, arrogant sneer. "Knell." 

Games, Gina's games...fear and desire had tumbled my mind, and I silently begged, "Yes dear, I will play your games, I love your games, and I'll take any chance for you. Toss the die; toss me. Or is this chess? I'll be your pawn my Queen. Take me; sacrifice me. Your games are such delicious pain. Make me ache for you; use me. Let me be your toy, your game piece, your fool. Play with me. Spoil me. Please dear, instruct me on the rules of your new game." My eyes had brimmed with tears as I looked up into the cruel beauty of Gina's mocking face. I pleaded in a shattered whisper, "Yes dear. Anything."

Still earlier as I had handed Gina her morning coffee, she curtly ordered me to get dressed. "Put on a dark suit and a blue tie." I had thought she was taking me out. I scurried off to fit myself to meet the world. My spirit shed the humiliating grunge of weeks of house imprisonment crawling at Gina's feet. The suit and tie were clean and crisp; confidence righted itself. Gina approved, "You look good all polished up." However, when I walked Gina to the door, I was once again disappointed, again played for a fool. "Oh sweetie I sorry but you can't come with me." 

"No. Today you will be doing more housework for me." Gina laid down the rules of her new game as she locked a short chain my between ankles. "I want you to wear your business suit and a tie just like when you had a real job. Its today's work uniform, with your chain and this nice, pink, frilly apron. Isn't it pretty? Do you like the little red hearts? See honey, aren't I thoughtful? I got these presents just for you, a chain to remind you of my love and an apron so you don't mess up that nice suit of yours.

"When I'm out today I will be thinking of you, my boy hobbling around cleaning the house all dressed up like he still was a hot shot business man—my big, powerful man in his suit and tie—and a pink apron. And so what if you have a chain locked to your ankles? You're not going anywhere, right? Wear the chain for me today. It will remind you of me all day, it will remind you to show restraint and to stay on task. It will remind you to love me. 

"There, your chain is nice and tight with just enough play so that you can get about to do all the chores on your list. I will keep your key on a chain around my neck, just like a schoolgirl going steady. It will remind me of you all day. Good boy. Now stand up and walk about. Oh, it is so sweet the way you stumble about with your feet hobbled together like that. You're such a sight. I wish I could show you and your frilly apron to all the guys at your office. But you were fired, so I guess you can't go back." 

Gina grabbed my crotch gripping the traitorous erection swelling in my suit pants and jutting against the pink apron. "Such a big hard cock. You love being pushed around; don't you slut? Don't you dare touch this nasty thing until I say so. You must finish your chores to my satisfaction first. Start with the bathroom. Your list." 

Gina stuck a scrap of paper listing my chores into my mouth, gave me a vicious little smile, and left for the day. Oh my kinky, freaky little girl, what would she think of next? 

The chain did remind me of Gina all day—each time I stumbled and each time it rattled as I crawled about on my knees scrubbing the floor. The apron did nothing more than humiliate me. My suit was ruined. But so what? I didn't have a job any longer—at least no job other than trying to keep Gina happy.

Now my Gina was back, and I had fallen to the floor. From my knees, I looked up to adore her. She stood in the doorway looking down on me with amused contempt. Gina radiated a dark elegance illuminating the profound gloom of her presence, highlighting her detached, superior distain for me, and, it seemed, just about everything. I was enthralled.

What I felt for Gina might have been mistaken for love; her control over me mistook for a magic spell. But what I felt had nothing to do with the repetitious topic of phony love songs, and Gina's control was too real to be hocus-pocus. My passion was a mystery, and Gina's power was a black flame illuminating a blacker night.

Gina was slim, petite, an enchanting wisp of loveliness. However, her frail seeming feline grace was but an ornamental sheath. Within lay steely strength, a sword forged in the fires of desire burning in hearts of the countless men enflamed by her beauty. Gina repeatedly quenched the scorching, scarlet steel in icy rejection, tempering the blade. The hammering of the lust incessantly called to her beauty wrought the blade, and heartbreak honed the cutting edge. Gina's beauty was almost too true to be real. 

They all wanted her, men distracted from the real world and their real lives by the assault of lying media images of airbrushed perfect beauty and false promises of easy wealth and continuous excitement. Disappointed men trapped in their humdrum reality; men cheated from the hyper-lust promised by the market hype that constituted their entire world. But Gina was both real and a hyper-beauty, and they all desperately wanted her. Gina knew it; she was habituated to it; she exploited it. 

I had fallen to the floor. Gina looked down at her humiliated conquest. I gazed up to her triumphant arrogance. My heart ached and a hot emptiness gnawed at my center. The knowledge that Gina might toss me away on a whim distorted my adoration into blue-black mourning. My elbow hurt. 

"Graceful, aren't we?" 

I scrambled up, holding my injured elbow. Red-faced shame cooled to common embarrassment. Gina smirked as I approached limping and shuffling from the chain of love strung between my ankles. Gina turned her back to me. She waited, sighed, and then looking over her shoulder demanded, "Well?" I stood dumbstruck, "What did she want, what am I supposed to do?" Finally, Gina sighed, "What did I just say? Take my coat, stupid." 

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry." I lifted the fur from her shoulders. 

"Sorry? Yes, I suppose that would be the only word for you—sorry." With a contemptuous sneer, Gina turned and walked away to the sitting area of my trendy soft-loft condo. "Luxury urban living! Wow!" So said the promo.

I stood holding her fur. Gina's scent was all around, a lovely perfume, a hint of Chardonnay, and something else, something earthy. Gina's smooth saunter across the room hypnotized. She wore a black turtleneck, tight blue jeans and flat-heeled boots; her short jet-black hair was slicked back. Gina's superbly muscled ass rolled provocatively with each step. Maybe it was that ass more than anything that had lured me into this crazy relationship. Whatever it was, whatever voodoo she had used, I was hooked. She knew it. 

I caressed the slick fur weighing heavily upon my hands. The thick luxuriant fragrance of leather filled my head as Gina's scent drifted away across the room. Dull with anxiety and dumb with lust, I gaped as Gina settling into the couch. The pliant leather sighed as it embraced her body. Gina rested one long leg on the coffee table and turned to glare at me.

Gina did not tolerate stupidity or countenance delay. "Eric, just hang the coat up. Get me a glass of wine. Christ, you are dense. The coat, then the wine, ok? That's right, put one foot in front of the other. Walk across the room. Oh, see how good you can be when you listen. Get the bottle of wine, stupid. Open it. Pour it in a glass. Do you have any idea how to tiring this is? Hurry up, you fucking idiot. What did you say you were? Oh yes, sorry."

I scrambled to comply. Worry banged about in my head. "She is such a bitch, but she's right. I am standing here like a moron who doesn't even know how to take a woman's coat or pour her a glass of wine. But it's her fault; she's the one who's turned me into a stumbling idiot. She's tied me into knots. Why don't I kick her out? This is my home. But when she said she was leaving me, I begged her to stay. Why? I could get other women. Before Gina, there were lots of them. 

"Maybe, but none like her. Gina is gorgeous, but that's not it. Gina is a controlling, manipulative bitch, but she has awoken, freed, or maybe created cravings within me that are driving me crazy. Before Gina I didn't want to be used, I didn't need to be controlled, and I certainly didn't hunger to be abused. But now, since Gina, I don't think I could live without it. It would be like starving. It's like there is a hole inside me, and Gina fills it. But when she is done with me, the hole just keeps getting deeper, calling out for more, more Gina. Other women always gave me what I wanted, and I always got enough. But when I was done, I always ended up looking around for more, for someone, something else. 

"But that was ok; that was better than ok, it was great. A new girl every couple of months, the grass really was always greener the next girl down the line. Fuck and dump; it worked great. But it won't work any more; Gina has done something to me. Now I pathetically struggle to give Gina what she wants, and I'm the one left begging for more, more of her. Her. Just Gina. No one, nothing else, will do. Only Gina can give me what I need, all those perverted things she makes me need.

"But this is too much, this open abuse. It was one thing in the context of sex games. But this treating me like a houseboy, this day-to-day belittling, this is not what I want. Chained up doing domestic chores for her all day, this is bizarre nonsense. It breaks my heart, but I have to get free or she will destroy me. I need some self-respect. I must tell her it's over. Maybe then, she will treat me better; maybe things can go back to where they were. Sure, she has every reason to be angry with me, but this is too much. I will miss her if she leaves, but I must show her I am able to go on without her, or I am lost.

"Concentrate stupid. Give her the wine. Talk to her, but be careful she seems angry."

I handed Gina her wine. Those eyes, those beautiful, brown eyes looked up at me with dismissive contempt. The silent rejection frightened me, weakened me. Gina's exquisite loveliness drew me, hooking me yet again. Self-respect? Panic screamed, "No, don't leave me; don't throw me away. I need you, please." My silent prayer was answered; the scorn in Gina's eyes thawed to amused condescension. Would she tolerate my pathetic longing for her? I could not speak.

"Thank you for the wine Eric. But I can see you haven't completed your chores. There are dirty dishes in the sink and you haven't straightened up this room or dusted. What else haven't you done? Did you clean the bathroom properly? I told you to scrub the tile grout with a toothbrush. Did you do it? If it's not clean I will make your clean it with your tongue, I swear I will. Get your list and show it to me."

I shuffled off to the kitchen counter and fetched Gina's list. Maybe half of the items had been checked off. Gina scrutinized me, impatiently strumming her fingers on the arm of the couch as I stumbled back to her. She smirked and took a sip of her wine before she accepted the list from my trembling hand. Gina glanced at the list, glowered, then arched a brow demanding an account. 

"Gina let me explain. Yes, I did clean the bathroom floor. But there was so much on this list, and yesterday you complained that I hadn't been careful enough, so everything was taking longer today..."

"Enough! Did you say I complain? Get this straight—I don't complain. Don't ever say that again or I'm gone. Eric, I am truly sick of you. I try to help you, I try teaching you some discipline, but you just keep whining. You are so weak. You probably can't get anything done because you can't focus; all you can think about is sex. Right?

"And then you accuse me of complaining. I should wash your mouth out with soap. You are nothing more than a naughty little boy. I'll decide whether the bathroom is clean, and if its not, I will really give you something to complain about. As to this list, this is a pathetic effort. I see you found time to wash my panties, but couldn't find time to take out the garbage. You are nothing but a lazy pervert. If you want the privilege of attending to my underwear, you had better learn to take the rest of your houseboy duties seriously." Gina wadded up the list and angrily tossed it into my face with a flick of her hand. Gina paused from her harangue, sighed in exasperation, and sipped her wine. 

"Well, there's tomorrow. There will be time tomorrow; you have nothing but time, right? You get yourself fired, and now you have nothing but time. Fired, you are pathetic. You don't mind me telling you how to use all that free time do you? That's appropriate, right? You need the guidance, the supervision—because you're pathetic, weak, and lazy. Right?

"In fact, if you recall, you begged me tell you what to do. Remember, just yesterday, when you were pleading with me not to walk out on you, you said you wanted me to order you about; you wanted me to teach you some discipline. You begged for it, on your knees. You agreed that you are a worthless, pathetic, sex addict who needed the persuasive hand of a strong woman to impose proper order on his dissolute masculine existence. 'A worthless, pathetic, sex addict', those were your words honey, not mine. You said if I gave you a yet another chance you would prove that you could obey without complaints or questions. And now you are whining already. This is really too much.

"Eric, I know exactly what you need—you need to be controlled, controlled very closely. So, don't think; obey. 

"But enough, I am tired of this. We'll get back to the issue of chores and your failures later. I need to relax. Are you going let me relax? You're giving me a headache. 

"There's only one thing you are any good at, and right now I feel like using you for that. You can be my little pet, my lap dog. Come doggy. Wanna lap it up my slit licking puppy? Now, let's see if my little doggy Eric has been thinking of me."

As Gina dressed me down, I stood in silent attention. Gina put her wine down, grabbed my belt, and jerked me toward her. She pushed aside my apron, unzipped me, and pulled out my rock hard cock. It had betrayed me yet again; I could not conceal how badly I craved Gina's abuse. Gina wrapped her fist around my cock, and ran a fingernail softly across the head. She placed her thumbnail onto the bulge of my urethra and flicked upward, driving precome ooze onto the head of my cock. She dipped the tip of her nail into my cock hole, smearing the juice around; then she dug in. I gasped in pain. Any thought of discussion or negotiation for dignity, any thoughts of leaving, flew from my mind. My self-preserving instincts were utterly betrayed. I nearly swooned.

"So my little puppy dog was thinking about me. Good. And were you thinking only sweet, nice thoughts? I don't think so. You are such a simple bucket of need. I bet you think all sorts hateful things about me, don't you? That's ok. I want you to hate me just a bit. It puts a nice edge on things. Still, here you stand, passive and rock hard. Obviously you like this, putty in the hands of the woman you hate, stiff for the woman you can't resist." Gina's finger toyed with my cock, scratching then soothing, agony then bliss. I whined to suppress screams. My whimpering shamed me.

With a derisive laugh, she released my cock, "Have I been too harsh? Maybe I should just flip that hate over and make you love me again. You are so easy, so malleable and so responsive. Would you like me to be nice? Kneel down, so I can look you in the eyes. That's better. Get down on all fours like a dog; let me stroke my little lap dog's face. Is that better? I like the way the anger in your eyes dissolves into pitiful tears. Cry. That is so sweet. Would you like a little love tap on the cheek? There. Another? Ok."

With that, Gina slapped my face with a roundhouse swing that took my breath away. I gasped, looked into my love's eyes, and passively invited more. Tears blurred the world.

"Oh, good that one left a nice red mark, very attractive. You like being mine; don't you? Don't speak; listen. I know I'm mean, but I can be sweet too. My slit's dripping with sweet stuff. Go ahead; cry. I like it when you cry, when you kneel in front of me and sob like a baby. What a pathetic excuse for a man, no you are definitely not a man. You are just a very, bad boy. Bad. You were even fired from your job for being such a bad, slut boy. Cry.

"But maybe I can forgive you a little because you at least try to be good. I'd love to let my sweet, little dog lap my pussy. Seeing you on your knees crying is making my pussy tear up too, well drip. But sucking too much slit seems to have made you crazy, made you do bad things. I'll let you kiss my boot instead."

Gina leaned back into the couch, crossed her legs, and lifted her boot toward my face. I looked up into Gina's dark eyes. Gina was slightly built; she probably weighed half what I did. But my muscled bulk was meaningless. The ease with which I might have physically overcome her was pointless. I was thoroughly bound by Gina's dominating will, a force stronger than any weight of chains. 

I took her boot in my hands, and attempted to kiss the toe. But Gina flicked her boot up, meeting my kiss with kick. "Go on, try again." I leaned forward to obey, but she kicked me again, harder. "Go on. I didn't say I was going to make it easy. Show me how much you love me. Kiss my boot." Gina kicked my mouth again, but I managed to kiss her boot at the same time. Then she placed the tip of her boot between my bruised lips and drove it into my mouth with a twist. "That's it, suck, show me what an obedient lap dog you can be." 

I sucked Gina's boot as best I could. I opened my mouth, extended my tongue, leaned in, and took Gina's boot as deeply as I could manage into my mouth. The craving to submit to Gina, to submit to degradation, overwhelmed me. I sobbed, but my tears didn't beg for mercy, they begged for more. Gina sniggered, "Eat it you worthless piece of shit. Eric the lap dog, sucking on a bone. Gobble it up my obedient little pet." 




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 02



Poor Eric, he only knew what Gina let him know. There on his knees kissing her boot, absorbed in sexual submission, seduced by surrender, Eric had no idea how lost he was. All he knew was that he had screwed up. He had gotten himself fired. That was a disaster; he had lost his six-figure income, and he had no idea how to recover. Worse, he had been fired for sexual harassment, and Gina had found out. 

Eric had been on the job only a few years and he was already a top salesman, hot stuff, and buddies with the boss. He sold supplies to the military, things like the infamous five hundred dollar toilet seat. Eric didn't sell the big high profile stuff like aircraft; rather, he exploited the huge profit margins to be reaped on specialized orders for ordinary stuff made to look special. He sold things like semi-trailers full of biodegradable, women and minority contracted toilet paper. He sold off-the-shelf stuff repackaged as low volume custom-made parts. Mostly that involved changing the price tag. It was all legal; Eric knew the rules. 

But more than knowing the rules Eric knew how to exploit the military brass. Eric knew all about entertaining his clients. Eric provided women and excuses to horny, grateful procurement officers and Department of Defense bureaucrats as he sold outrageous amounts of product at outrageous prices. Hammers, screws, award metals, magazine subscriptions, tampons, gas masks, hamburgers—it was all a gold mine. He was young, good-looking and rich. Women loved him. His colleagues were in awe of him. Except for the boss, none of the guys at the office had any idea what made Eric such a great salesman. He came and went as he pleased, and he spent little time confined to the office. 

Eric's sales methods were highly unethical, but very successful. Most of the guys buying the stuff were bored, repressed and horny, and the occasional women buyers were usually lesbians and also bored and horny, but perhaps not so repressed. Eric knew just the right woman to make each buy-guy or buy-gal happy. He knew lots of girls in the entertainment business, including strippers who usually didn't do prostitution, but who were trained professionals in driving men crazy. These girls were Eric's friends, he paid well, and they would do almost anything Eric asked. 

Usually this meant getting the client comfortable, followed by straightforward x-rated entertainment like rubbing big tits in the guy's face, hiking up short skirts and sliding fingers into slick, shaved pussies, or a girl on girl suck fest that transformed into a frolicking dick sucking threesome. Maybe Eric would start the client off with a round of golf and a few drinks in the clubhouse. Then it was up to the hospitality suite where Eric discreetly exited and left the buyer to his special assistant, or several assistants for those who might enjoy a three-ring circus. All the brochures were there and all the contacts were ready for signature. Eric's inside joke with his girls was that he paid a bonus if they could get the client to fuck them on a table on top of the signed contract. Come stains did not invalidate the deal. A good time was had by all. 

However, sometimes more imagination was needed. One particular guy was an uptight born-again Christian who was trying to save the world. Eric didn't think he could play this guy at first, until he introduced him to his most creative girl, Shyanne. Shyanne? Her trailer park Mom couldn't spell.

Shyanne was a long time call girl, and a frustrated actor. She had done some work in porno films where her fair skin, blue eyes, and thick, silky, blond hair—and beautifully done silicone boobs—commanded a premium. Shyanne loved putting on a raunchy sex show. Although Shyanne generally acted like a foul mouth hard ass, Eric knew that she could play the sweet innocent.

Eric told Shyanne to get as clean and bright as a Mormon on Sunday, and he then introduced her to the Christian weapons buyer as his secretary. Shyanne walked into the room in Sunday-go-to-meeting high heels and a flowery sundress with the belt cinched tightly around her tiny waist. Her bosom bulged behind a modest, frilly front. The good Christian melted when she knelt down beside his chair, handed him some critical documents that he should have scrutinized, and, batting her eyes, tenderly pleaded, "Here, sir, maybe these papers will help you. Eric says you are a man of the Lord. It gives me great comfort to know that there is at least one man of God looking out for our boys out there on the front line. Please, excuse me, but well, some the other procurement officers are, well, it is just that sometimes they seem so course. It is good to know that a godly, refined Christian such as yourself is in charge. If there were anything at all that I can do to help you, I would be honored. Truly, I would."

It may have been the bulging bosom, it may have been the big blue eyes, but when the good Christian looked at the beauty kneeling at his side he knew what had to save next, and it wasn't the taxpayer's money. For maybe a year, repeated sales of excessive military junk went well. The good Christian earnestly tried to save Shyanne while Eric made a small fortune. Unfortunately, the whole thing came to a messy end when the good Christian announced that he had dumped his wife and he asked Shyanne to marry him. Shyanne was appalled, and Eric had to concoct an elaborate lie to get rid of the horny fool. 

Eric rewarded Shyanne by hiring her to be his real secretary. She wanted to get out of prostitution, she was bright, cooperative, and now well off from the profits Eric shared with her, so this seemed a perfect arrangement. Shyanne happily did Eric's bidding, setting up whores for his clients, setting up dates for Eric, and sucking Eric's dick whenever he wanted. Shyanne had nothing to do with other employees in the company, first because she had nothing in common with them, and second because Eric could have blackmailed Shyanne with her past. Shyanne worked for Eric and no one else. Shyanne genuinely liked Eric and was his comrade in arms against the rest of the world. For Eric, life was good.

Eric didn't know it, but his life irrevocable changed when the old man retired and turned the company over to his daughter Ashley. Ashley was fresh out of an Ivy League MBA program, and she seemed way too young to run the business. Just this appearance could have been a real problem. The defense business depended on subterranean political bribes, revolving door good old boy networks, and general corruption hidden behind security clearances and political schmooze—not to mention sex in the hospitality suite. 

Ashley's Ivy League professors knew next to nothing about these things. The theories and academic attitudes learned in the Ivy League MBA program were worse than useless. Typically, defense-contracting businesses were run by retired generals cashing in on inside information and connections, collecting their so richly deserved millions after years of serving the public interest through sweetheart contracts for excessive military hardware. But despite everyone's expectations, the youthful Ashley was successful. Her secret, and that secret was actually marked top secret in Ashley's FBI file, was her unusually close, and unusually unusual, relationships with several well-placed senators. That and that Ashley was, despite her cool, austere demeanor, a genus at corruption. She was Daddy's little girl. Corruption was Ashley's vocation, avocation, and her life's project. 

Eric tried to lay low when Ashley took over, but Ashley wouldn't leave him alone. She just didn't seem to like him. Ashley seemed to go out her way to interfere with his work and to subtlety cut him down to size in the office pecking order. She forced Eric to spend his days in the office. She made Eric show up at worthless meetings and disparaged his work in front of his colleagues. She called him into her office and warned him that she considered his habit of dating women in the office to be unacceptable. Eric didn't take the bait; he was all 'Yes mam, thank you for pointing that out. Of course, I will attend to that, and I am so grateful for your assistance. I will do better, thank you.' Eric battened down to ride out to ride out the storm. Besides he had all ready fucked all the office girls worth fucking.

Ashley was pretty, remote, and cold. Eric wondered if she wasn't a dyke dressed up in a conservative women's business suit. Eric's easy charm that seemed to work on everyone else just seemed to antagonize Ashley. But Eric was a star salesman, he made the company buckets of money, and so he thought he was safe. Things went well enough at first, but after a month, completely out of the blue, Ashley promoted Shyanne to be her own secretary. This was just after Eric had met Gina.

Eric had been shopping for new Jaguar. He didn't need a new car, but he had money to burn and new cars were Eric's second favorite toy, after new women. While wandering through the dealership he met Gina. She was wearing an erotic caricature of a woman's business suit, dark blue wool with pin strips, a short jacket with crisp shoulder pads, a white shirt with a starched collar and a solid red mannish tie. The skirt was very short and very tight. Gina's shapely ass jutted out below the tight waist of the jacket and just above the hem of her skirt. Each step was a provocation. Gina's shapely legs were clad in black hose and propped up on black stiletto heels. Her short black hair was slicked back and dark glasses hid her eyes. Her lips were full and bright red. Hot new cars and a hot new girl, this was a great showroom.

Eric thought that any woman that attractive, that provocative, and rich enough to be shopping for a Jaguar must be a high-class whore. He struck up a conversation, and then they test-drove a slick sports car together. She drove. She drove fast. The chitchat stopped as she drove off like racecar driver. Gina paid no attention to Eric. He sat pale faced plastered to his seat by the G-forces, his heart thumping in his throat, at the mercy of this mad woman's recklessness. When they got back, Gina excused herself with perfunctory smile. Eric watched her walk away, ass swaying with the rhythm of confident strides, stilettos snapping on the hard showroom floor. Eric's heart thumped in time. 

With one hand on the door, Gina turned toward Eric's lustful gawk. She raised a finger and motioned for Eric to come. Dutifully Eric sauntered over half expecting a sex for hire sales pitch. Instead, Gina offered to buy Eric dinner. Eric was flattered and boasted to himself about his power over women, even a grade-A woman like Gina. He just didn't understand. Eric's downfall had begun, and this was a fall off a cliff deeper than Eric could have imagined.

Eric had never met a girl like Gina. She was not a prostitute like he had thought, but she loved sex. There was not a lot of talk between them, just a lot of sex. Gina was the perfect girl for Eric.

Gina didn't tell Eric where she lived, what she did for a living, or even her phone number. Gina said almost nothing about herself. Their relationship was all about sex, and Gina took charge, directing Eric like maestro. After their first dinner, where Eric did all the talking, they went back to Eric's condo. He handed Gina a glass of wine as he sat back on the couch. Gina set the wine down, unzipped Eric's pants and promptly gave him the best blowjob he'd ever had. Not a word was spoken; she got straight to the deed. When Eric came, Gina leaned, back licked her lips, and swallowed. "That was good, the perfect after-dinner aperitif. I have to go now. I'll call you in a few days." Eric was drained; he just lay back on the couch and watched this amazing woman walk away. 

Gina took Eric's number but didn't give Eric any way to contact her, and she didn't call. After two weeks, Eric thought the beautiful mysterious woman was gone. When she finally did call, Eric stumbled over his tongue in his anxiety to see her again. Gina had Eric primed. Then the serious sex started; Gina fucked his brains out. In a few weeks, Gina was living with Eric.

At work, Ashley assigned Eric a newly hired secretary to replace Shyanne, the voluptuous young Maria. She was not too bright and not at all discreet, and so Eric couldn't let her take on Shyanne's work. Therefore, Eric had to work twice as hard, but Maria had her up side. She was sexy, flirtatious, and oh so proud of her massive tits. She wore tight knit sweaters that clung to her big breasts, or dresses deeply cut to show off her jiggling cleavage as she flounced around the office, gossiping with anyone, and doing absolutely no work. Maria took every occasion to swing her heavy breasts in Eric's face. Maria was very hot in her bovine way, she knew it, and she liked to show off. Eric enjoyed the show, but he was getting all the sex he could handle at home with Gina. Maria was just a delightful amusement, keeping him turned on until he went home to Gina.

Sex with Gina kept getting better and crazier, but always on Gina's terms. Soon Eric was the one going down. Gina instructed Eric in the art of pussy sucking and lavishly praised her student. Eric was eating it up. Soon Eric was going down on Gina every day, then twice, sometimes three times a day. 

Gina made Eric crawl down between her legs to wake her every morning. Gina said she needed his tongue to start her day off right and get her creative juices flowing. Eric's duty was to wake Gina with a gentle transition from her dream world to the harsh light of day. And so Eric went down each morning, starting with soft kisses on Gina's upper thighs, or, if her back was turned toward him, the lightest lapping, hardly more than a breath, on the perfect ass that so obsessed him. With a sleepy turn, Gina would open her thighs. Half asleep, Gina directed her pupil with subtle touches and supple shifts of her lovely body. Only when invited by a delicate intimation, a slight body language hint of permission, would Eric carefully proceed to insinuate his face into the heart of his infatuation, the cocooned haven within the furrow of Gina's thighs. 

Swathed in Gina's skin, smells, and warmth, Eric cautiously opened her labia with a light message of the tip of his tongue and savored the day's first taste of his love. An insubstantial shift of a leg or a faint sigh invited Eric to begin a tender tongue kneading of Gina's clit. Slowly, and only as bidden by Gina's half-conscious instructions, Eric wheedled his way down to the source of Gina's pungent warmth, the font of Eric's obsession, his love's slit, his feeding trough. Eric's face slipped into the slick pool. 

And so Eric cajoled his way into Gina's early morning sex dreams and escorted his love toward the waking world. The fluid mists of Gina's dreams crystallized to waking schemes like frost setting on night flowers. As desire gathered, Gina's directions turned firm, insistent. Gina's clit heated and her fingers joined in. Eric ministrations in the hole below evolved toward vigorous tongue fucking. With the crescendo of climax, Gina awoke. The heat of morning sex sublimed her frosty dream-plots into clouds of intrigue blowing into the winds of the coming day's battles. Eric smiled at his success, his face in the damp sheets breathing Gina's odors as he slipped back toward sleep. Gina then ordered coffee with a sharp jab of her heel.

Morning rites done, Gina would send Eric off to work unfulfilled, love raging. 

Soon Gina added a new twist. After he had showered and dressed for work, Gina made Eric go down one more time at the front door, fully clothed. Gina would walk Eric to the door and nonchalantly open her gown bidding Eric to perform one more time. She admonished caution so that her coffee would not spill. Eric struggled to get his nose in it.

Gina opened her legs slightly to accommodate his efforts, all the while circumspectly balancing her coffee. If Gina was not satisfied with Eric's effort, or if turned on enough to want another thorough tongue fucking, she would set her coffee aside, order Eric to lie on the floor at the door, squat above his head, and smear copious gobs of pussy juice all over his face. Then she sent him off to work. Gina ordered Eric not to wash it off; she called it putting on a good face for the world. Eric loved the whole crazy show, but Eric did not understand how thoroughly trapped he was. Eric was going down.

At Her Boot (chapter 3)

Down on all fours like a dog at her boot I played Gina's servile pet and indulged an overpowering craving to humiliate myself before my love. I eagerly struggled to obey her command to suck her boot. I selfishly wallowed in my need. 

Gina sat with her legs crossed and cavalierly flicked her boot into my face. Gina snickered at my ineffectual efforts, but there was no cheer in that laugh. Her mood was irate and dark. ...continued 



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 03



At Her Boot

Down on all fours like a dog at her boot I played Gina's servile pet and indulged an overpowering craving to humiliate myself before my love. I eagerly struggled to obey her command to suck her boot. I selfishly wallowed in my need. 

Gina sat with her legs crossed and cavalierly flicked her boot into my face. Gina snickered at my ineffectual efforts, but there was no cheer in that laugh. Her mood was irate and dark. 

She caught my hopeful glance toward her face begging for approval, and her vicious grin transformed into a spiteful, focused frown dictating that I redouble my efforts. Gina flipped the boot at my lips, and I caught the tip in my teeth. With a twisting plunge, Gina drove her sole into my face. I sucked, I slavered and I swallowed dirt. I savored leather and I savored my miserable wretchedness. She laughed. 

Suddenly, violently, Gina kicked me away. I rocked back to my knees; my lip was bleeding. The spell of submission wavered, "How can I let myself do this. She is destroying me." Gina's magnetism immediately drew me back, "I can't stop; I need her; I yearn for her dominion. I must be possessed by her."

Gina uncrossed her long leather clad legs. "Suck that blood off your lips; don't get any of it on my boot or the floor. You're not done yet; get down. Put your nose on the floor. You've only cleaned one boot." Gina stretched her leg, pointed her toe, and placed her boot on the floor. "Clean it. Slip your tongue under it; clean off the street dirt. That's good. Push that tongue under there. Show some enthusiasm. You can be so obedient, my boot broken, bitch boy. No, you're not a boy, not even a dog. You're my pet tongue. Eric the slippery tongue animal. 

"It's a shame. I can't let my tongue pet grovel in my pussy, it doesn't deserve that treat; it hasn't earned that privilege. Pussy juice seems to bring out the worst in it; it makes it too horny. I don't think honey tongue has even earned the honor of licking my boot, but I suppose I can be a bit permissive since it is at least trying to be obedient. 

"Seeing you bent over like that makes my cunt wet, just the way you like it. All this nice pussy juice that you can't have, all this sweet stuff you can't dive into, can't smear over your face, can't slurp up. No, neither of us can get what we want because you can't control yourself. Slut. I let you suck my pussy every day, let you beat off as much as you want, but I guess it wasn't enough for you. It corrupted you, made you excessively horny, turned you into nothing more than a big penis, no a turgid tongue walking around in public in a suit and tie. You acted like beast, and got yourself fired. Bad, bad tongue animal." She kicked me again, then jabbed her foot back into my face.

"But, I suppose your scandalous behavior was partly my fault. I have not managed you properly. I was too permissive, and I mistook you for a man rather than the tongue-beast you really are. Because I liked your tongue fucking so much, I became overly indulgent and let you have too much. Yes, I suppose it was my fault. You're a cunt sucker gone mad. A pussy sucking slut-boy, a tongue-fucking whore whose lustful indecency became so offensive he was fired. Such a pity. Sexually harassing your own secretary, and such a lovely, young and innocent thing—you are disgusting. I am so ashamed that it was partly my fault. I fed you too much pussy. You're an embarrassment. But enough, let's move on, lets see if we can repair the damage, or least find a use for you."

Throughout this tirade, I concentrated on sucking Gina's boot, rapt in a spell of submission. I sucked her boot as if it were her pussy. I cleaned the dirt off with my tongue, carefully licking each fold and crevice of her boot, while her recriminations struck me like a whip. "Yes I am an embarrassment. Yes, I am disgusting. Clean Gina's boot. Use your mouth tongue-slave. Make amends; be her thing. You can't let her leave; you can't let her throw you away; you can't live without her." 

My sick reverie broke when Gina pulled her boot back, placed the sole in the middle of my face, and shoved me back. I reared up to my knees to focus on Gina's scolding lecture. She leaned in toward me with an elbow her knee, loathing in her eyes and a sneer in her voice.

"You're detestable. I don't know why I bother with you at all, except that it would be irresponsible to let a beast like you free in the world. But maybe you can be reformed. I think I can do it; I think I can get beyond what you've done, and perhaps not exactly forgive, but move on. However, you must change, and change isn't easy, especially for a self-indulgent oral slut like you. But enough anger. See, I can control my emotions, my anger, and I will teach you the same self-control. Or maybe I should say I will force you submit to my control, the control I will impose upon your filthy obsessions. But you must agree. I want to reform you, to make you into a better thing, but you must make a commitment to change."

"Yes mis..."

"SHUT—UP!" Gina struck with a roundhouse, openhanded slap across my cheek. I was stunned. I swallowed my instinct to protest her rebuke. The piercing crack was followed by screaming silence. 

I lifted my hand to my burning cheek and looked to Gina's beautiful face. Her soft brown eyes promised a kindness belied the satisfied smirk on her lips. Hope? Gina's lovely, olive skin, the easy grace of her long limbs, her presence, I didn't think they could live without these, but how could I let myself be subjected to this abuse. I knew I had screwed up. I was embarrassed, horrified by what I had done. Well, not what I did, but what I had been convicted of doing. My crime looked so much worse than what it actually was.

"Oh, that poor hurt look. That bad Gina is too mean. Is that what you're thinking? You know Eric you will never find someone who will do for you what I do. Yes, you could easily get girls to spread their legs for you. You are such a pretty slut boy and there are so many dumb bitches out there. But that's not the same thing is it? I give you something you didn't even know you wanted; but you want it now, don't you? Oh sure, part of you still complains, 'Don't treat me so bad. It's too much. Give me just a little of the kinky stuff, but not so much.' Sorry, but I will treat you so bad. It's not about you Eric; it's about me. I will treat as bad as I want, whenever I want, as long as I want, because hurting you is exactly the thing that I want. And when I have had enough, you may say thank you, and get out of my sight until I call you back for more. Do you know why? Because you need it, you crave it. You need the abuse, the control, and the humiliation. And only I can give it to you.

"You know perfectly well that I am your only hope. The things you really crave would have disgusted any of the many women you have known. Only I know your true nature. Only I could reveal to you the revolting, pitiful thing you need to be. Only I have the courage the put you to your natural born use. Part of you says, 'I must have my self-respect.' Well, you can have your self-respect, or you can have me—me and all those perverted things you really need, those things you would not admit to needing until I showed you what you really are. 

"So it is your self-respect, or the real you; empty, meaningless whoring, or me; Eric the lost slut-boy looking for pussy from every woman that he meets, or Eric, Gina's cunt licking tongue slave. It will be one or the other; you must choose. I don't want this half man, half slave, half big cock on campus, half pussy sucking tongue pet. Choose."

I gazed into Gina's eyes like snake charmed. She was right, she had found, or awoken, or maybe hatched something deep within me that I hadn't known existed. Gina was right, I would never find someone else like her; certainly, I hadn't known anyone like her before. And that thing she found in me, or infected me with, that gnawing need to surrender, to be used, to be leveled—I was addicted to it. She knew it. Gina was right, the thing I'd become was not compatible with the slightest self-respect. That thing was at once self-loving and self-loathing, a vortex of self-destruction, sucking me down to—what? To become her absolute slave certainly, but would anything be left of me, or the thing I had always thought was me? Could I exist as a simple slave, nothing else? Could I let Gina carve from me all self-respect, all autonomy, and still be a functioning person? But do I care? It would be like suicide to give in to her, but it would be a slow empty death to deny her.

"Cat got your tongue? I told you to choose, me, and all that I demand, or nothing. Speak."

With that she slapped me again, full force across my other cheek. I gasped, "Gina please, of course I want you, but..." She slapped me hard again. 

"No buts, all or nothing. And all would be a lot, more than you can imagine. I will be fair, or at least give fair warning; all means the whole thing. There would be nothing left for you.

"I do want you Eric; it is just that I want you my way, and I want all of you. I don't have time for negotiations. Give yourself to me, give me everything, be my total cunt lapping slave and you will get more sex than you can imagine. But only in the ways I deem appropriate. You will have the life that I impose upon you. That's what slave is. Maybe this will help."

With that, Gina stood and slipped out of her boots, blue jeans, and panties. I was transfixed; I could not stop staring at the dark triangle of her crotch. Gina sat back, and slung a leg over the end of the sofa. She spread the lips of her pussy and casually stroked the bud of her clitoris.

"Come here. Put your face between my legs. Close, but don't touch. That's good. Don't touch; smell. Breathe deep. It's so wet. Don't think that I don't want you Eric; it's just that I want you my way. You are an excellent cunt sucker and a very pretty thing. I love having you down there between my legs, licking, sucking, slurping, and serving me. Be quiet, watch."

Gina began rubbing her clit vigorously; she intended to come. I was entranced, inches from her glistening pussy. And the smell, Gina's smell, enveloped me. How I wanted to dive in, but I obeyed. I watched, careful not to touch, kneeling on the floor between her legs, my face inches from her cunt as she quickly drove herself to climax.

But that smell, that was more than Gina, what was that other earthy smell? I suddenly realized that it was another man. As Gina clenched toward her impending orgasm his white ooze peeked out. His slime clarified as it mingled with Gina's slit drool and seeped down to the trough of her ass. Gina had come home freshly fucked and rubbed her infidelity in my face, quite literally. She didn't have to say anything, she made me smell it; she stuck my nose in it. I was nauseous. Gina forced me to face the ultimate humiliation. 

A cold dry desolation blew through my heart. I should leave, but I can't. This is too much. But no, it's not enough. Please Gina let me eat you. Let me clean him out of you. And then, as I bent over her pussy as if in prayer, she came. She shivered, gasped and another dribble of his cream oozed from her hole.

"Oh yes, I do want you. Yes, you Eric. Oops, I guess I'm dripping. You know what that is, don't you? Sorry, but this is how it must be. One man would never be enough for a woman like me; you should know that. But a man like you could always find his special place in my life. Aren't you lucky; it could be you. You could be my cunt-licking slave, my dedicated cunt cleaner. You can have that place, but you must choose. Give me total obedience, total servitude; surrender all of you, exactly as I demand. Say yes, and you can clean his come out of me. I will let you suck me clean. Choose me now, and forever; there will be no going back."

I was lost. "Yes. Yes, Gina. Please take me, use me, whatever you need, just take me."

"Maybe, but you will have to be good; you must do exactly as you are told, all the time. Can you obey properly? I feel that other boy's come dripping out, slithering down. Use your tongue and lap it up. Just lap it up what is leaking, clean it up but no tongue fucking."

I had lost. I surrendered. I leaned forward and carefully licked the corruption seeping from her hole and dripping down through the furrow of her ass. I gently lapped the taint from the sensitive folds of Gina's puckering anus and cleaned the slime from her slit. I was nauseous but thrilled to serve her. I was lovesick. I surrendered to the ecstasy of capitulation. The honor of cleaning the repellant pollution slacked the dry desolation ripping my heart.

"Stop. Look at it. Look at my pussy. It is full of his juice. Look at your new boss; look at your new ruler. Eric is that what you want, will you let that cruel pussy rule your life? Choose now and never look back."

Directly addressing Gina's cunt, I wept, "Yes, yes I belong to you, to it. I belong to your cunt completely; it is my supreme ruler. And you. Please, Gina please, let me be your thing."

"Eat it." Gina grabbed my head and slammed my face into her pussy. I dove into the gooey pool; her wet folds splayed over my cheeks and nose. I drove my tongue deep into her slimy hole. She gasped and arched her back. I sucked, swallowed, and nearly suffocated. She strained. Her cunt bulged. I sucked her urethra into my mouth, reaching my tongue deep into her. I wallowed in the slop of her unfaithfulness. I sucked his slime out of her, desperate to clean the intruder from my love, desperate to prove my love, desperate to surrender everything and to earn my place at her hole. I swallowed. Then Gina came again, hard and wet. A torrent streamed into my worshiping mouth, and I sucked it down to the last drop.

Chapter 4

And so the love affair of Gina and Eric took another twisted step. Yes, it was a love affair, not a sweet romance, but as close to love as either of them could manage. Although their relationship was as unequal as possible, in a warped way they were perfect compliments, like a fist in a tight leather glove... continued



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 04-05



Eric and Gina: Chapter 4

And so the love affair of Gina and Eric took another twisted step. Yes, it was a love affair, not a sweet romance, but as close to love as either of them could manage. Although their relationship was as unequal as possible, in a warped way they were perfect compliments, like a fist in a tight leather glove.

(At this point, we must temporarily leave our story. For very good reasons, this site does not permit description of adolescent sex. However, a complete elucidation of human personality, especially regarding sexuality, requires an understanding of how the adult emerges from the adolescent. If the reader wants this part of Eric and Gina's back-story, they must search for it. Suffice it to say Eric was popular and promiscuous.Gina was a distant loner. Eric's best friend and partner was a chubby girl named Veronica who, to be near the charismatic Eric, advised him in the art of seduction. Then the sociopathic Eric left for college, dumping Veronica without a thought or a goodbye. Living a thousand miles away, Gina was the gorgeous target of every boy's desire. However, she was pathologically shy, and so she withdrew into her private world of art and fantasy. Now we return to the lead edge of the narrative as Eric and Gina's adult lives play out. The story continues...)

Face It Chapter 5

"So Eric, did you drink all of it? I wouldn't want a mess on the couch." Gina shoved my face out of her cunt and checked the cushions for dampness.

"Good boy, it's nice and dry. You did an excellent job of sucking up all of my pussy juice...and his goo. There was a lot, wasn't there honey tongue? Oh, don't look so sad. You want to please me, right? Every woman should have a male tongue at her disposal. Face it my obedient tongue pet, giving face is all you're any good for, but at least you're good at that. Your tongue is soft and sensitive, yet strong and thick, and it is has absorbed its cunt lapping lessons well. Maybe I'll give up strange cock all together and just stick with your tongue...well, not really." Gina laughed heartily at her stupid, cruel joke. As cold and mean as Gina could be, she laughed a lot, and I cherished her laugh. But my heart was breaking.

"My, my, look at that big hard dick. Does that mean you still love me? Yeah, I think so. But maybe it just means you like cleaning another guy's cream out of my pussy. Was it yummy? Or maybe you've got that big hardon because you like sticking your face into my juicy hole, or maybe just the humiliation turns you on? Poor Eric, you're all mine now. You have no idea how much fun I am going to have with you. Let's see, did you make a mess on the floor? That big cock of yours didn't squirt all over, did it? I guess not. See, you can be a good boy when you try, when you accept your place." 

Gina was having her fun with me. I thought, "Its ok darling; I love you. Use me."

"Ah, but what to do about that hardon? I cannot believe I once let you put that thing inside of me. Don't get me wrong, I still like cock, big, hard cocks deep inside, and I will enjoy lots of them, but with real men, not you. Look at that thing, that desperate piece of meat, my good soldier standing at attention waiting for orders. I suppose you want me to let you come? Sorry, that is not happening. Not now, maybe not ever. How long has it been now, three weeks right? You poor thing, your nasty mistress hasn't let you come in three weeks. No wonder that thing's so hard.

"But you did promise to be my pussy sucking slave boy, right? That means no more fucking. Not with me for sure. But don't despair; it could be that one of my girl friends will want to use your cock. You are a pretty boy and that big cock might look like a treat to some girls, the weak, horny, cock starved type. So maybe one of my girl friends will use you for something other than face. I might let her, we'll see. But it could just be that your fucking days are over, not counting tongue fucking of course. That's what being a cunt sucking slave is all about."

I was hopelessly lost in her spell. I knelt before Gina still dressed, except my pants were pulled down to my knees. My cock jutted out below my disheveled suit jacket. I could not resist surrendering to her humiliating abuse. I craved more, more, and even more. How did she make me pine for her cruelty? I tempted my tormenter, "Yes Gina, thank you. Thank you for using my face. Thank you for letting me clean your pussy. I hate the thought of another man's come inside of you. But my balls ache they're so full. Please, may I touch myself so that I can come?" 

I knew this would annoy Gina. I halfheartedly hoped my begging might amuse her and that my full embrace of this appalling disgrace might have earned me a reprieve from her regime of denial. Gina had taught me the ritual of begging for permission to masturbate while kneeling at her feet. It had been my only relief for months, but for the past three weeks, Gina would not permit even that. 

I had disobeyed early in Gina's rein of orgasm management by jacking off when she was out. Somehow, she knew, and she punished my transgression with an intense barrage of verbal abuse, and threats to abandon me. From then on she hefted my balls when she got home, claiming she could tell if I had masturbated. Her examinations ended with a painful squeeze and a warning slap to my sack, "Good boy, there full and juicy." I was too deep under her spell to doubt or disobey.

"Let you beat off? No. No orgasms for you. No fucking way. You may not play with that dirty thing. You agreed to be governed by me, and so now a new rule. Not only may you not touch yourself without permission, and you may not even beg for permission. Got it? Live with it, cunt sucker. I'm sick of your whining. 

"Orgasms make you lazy. Frustration spawns diligence and obedience. And you need to be more diligent, more dedicated to serving me. You need to extinguish your selfish, perverted desires. All you every think about is yourself and your ever-ready dick. You say you will serve, but I have my doubts. You're a weak, self-indulgent slut boy. Obedience must be total, immediate, and reflexive." Gina snapped her fingers. I bowed, my eyes teared, and my mouth watered. My balls ached. 

"You will serve my comfort, anticipate my whims, vanish when I am bored with you, and be at my feet whenever a fleeting urge to use you floats across my mind. So don't bore me. I know your big bad balls are full of juice and you ache to empty them. That's way I like it; that will be your permanent condition. Those heavy balls are just going to swing in their pendulous sack, driving you mad, twisting that need to spill into a need to serve. So don't whine or I will throw you out. Now, let's see if you have been listening. Repeat the new rule."

"I may not masturbate without permission, and I may not ask for permission. I will obey. Thank you for the new rule. Thank you for being strict goddess. I need that, thank you." Gina was right; the aching load in my ball sack demanded deeper submission more abuse. She was right; that weight dragged me down, down toward some fearful abyss.

"You should thank me for my instruction, and I like being called goddess. You should express your gratitude more often. I have discussed your situation with several knowledgeable friends and they all agree that denying orgasms is an excellent technique for strengthening the instinct to obey in submissive males. But don't despair. I may let you come eventually, but at a time and in a manner of my choosing, and only if you are a good boy, of course."

A dry lump of anxiety throbbed in my throat. "Friends?" The reminder that the there was a world other than Gina blindsided me. "She told others what she is doing to me?" I was on the verge of tears. "Why I am agreeing to this. But this sick surrender to Gina is hypnotic; I need her tyranny. Can the denial of fulfillment fulfill? My balls are so full they might burst. Gina has thrown me into a pit. Is there release at the bottom? Is there a bottom? But she is right; the longer she keeps me on the edge, the further I fall, and the further I fall the deeper and darker my need to submit becomes. I am lost."

Gina's harangue was unrelenting, "Now that you have agreed to be my permanent cunt sucking slave, it's time for you to meet a special friend. Anna is a renaissance woman; she knows more about more things than anyone I know. She especially knows men and their proper use. One of her many interests is relationship consulting, couples counseling. Anna is a real expert in teaching men to respect women, and she said she might accept you as a patient. It will take much more than simple promises to make you into a truly respectful submissive. I know you're a lying pussy hound that would say anything to get what it wants when it is in heat. Strict obedience training is required. Your disorder must be treated.

"So tonight we are going to visit Anna for an evaluation. If she accepts you as a patient, we will begin a course of treatment. Dr. Anna has the cure, healing through service, an intense male training program in the art of serving women. There is hope for you. But if she doesn't accept you, well, I guess I'll find for someone better suited to be my cunt licker. I have a couple of other guys in mind if you don't work out. But hopefully Anna accepts you and forces you to become exactly what I want. 

"You are pretty enough, and seeing you down there on your knees I think you just might have the natural instinct necessary for your new position in life. I think Anna will appreciate your potential, that is, if you behave. You will behave won't you? You are not going to embarrass me in front of my friend, right? You will show Anna that you are the kind of boy who wants to learn to respect women properly, right? Promise?"

"I will do anything to please you Gina. I will try to be good and become what you wish."

"I hope so, because if you fuck up I will hurt you, hurt you badly. Then I will leave you. Understand? But I think this will work out just right. I know you; I know what you need. You will do whatever it takes to interest Anna because she is a beautiful woman, and you are a hopeless flirt. But more importantly, she just the kind of woman your secret soul desires—a very, very strong woman.

"Now let's get ready for Anna. Follow me to the bedroom. Crawl."

Gina's lovely ass rolled away, her tight turtleneck clinging to her slim body like a little black dress. I could just make out the fold where her naked legs met her perfect ass, the nexus of my desire, my nirvana. The hypnotizing undulation gestured to me, easing my anxiety. I salivated, the lump in my throat slacked, and I crawled behind.

Gina walked to the dresser she had appropriated as her own and looked into the mirror, checking her make-up, primping, and admiring herself. She placed her hands on the dresser, leaned forward, spread her legs, and arched her back. The turtleneck rode up over the curve of her ass. I thrilled at the sight. Gina's buttocks opened slightly; below her slit peeked through the furrow in the dark kinky hair.

Gina had introduced ceremonial ass kissing during the past weeks of total servitude. I crawled to my position. On my knees, hands patient at my side, my face inches from the smooth skin of Gina's flawless ass I waited for Gina's command. "Open it up, but just look; don't touch me with your tongue." I gently spread Gina's ass cheeks revealing her pink, puckering anus. Her aroma swaddled me. "It's been a long day running around, shopping, visiting friends, fucking. It was all quite exhausting. My asshole needs to be cleaned. Is all sweaty and stinky?" 

I lied, "No, Gina. You smell great. May I please lick it?" 

"Well Eric darling, I'm not sure. Can you do a good job? I thought all of the practice you've had would have made your tongue stronger, but last time I was quite disappointed that you didn't get that tongue in deeper. I don't think you properly appreciate the honor of serving me. So try a harder. Dig in. Eat."

Gina giggled and thrust her ass into my face. With a long slurping stroke, I lapping her full length from slit through crack. Then I fixated on Gina's anus—tasting, messaging, exploring. I cleaned the tiny exterior folds then, with squirming, insistent thrusts, plunged my tongue into the slick inner entry. Gina waggled her bottom in a slow rhythmic dance while I followed her smooth motion, glued to her hole. 

Gina pressed back against my face and strained. Her anus bulged. Permission granted. I drove into her, pumping my tongue, simulating a sinuous little cock. Gina's breathe pulsed with intensifying sexual arousal. Tongue fucking her tight ass was much harder than tonguing her deep juicy cunt. I drove as deeply as I could manage. I opened my mouth, placed my lips her skin and sucked to gain leverage. My tongue soon ached from the effort. Twisting, lapping, and swirling, my tongue wormed its way past the tight squeeze of Gina's sphincter. I agonized that I couldn't reach deeper, that my tongue wasn't longer and stronger, and that my face didn't have a true cock to satisfy my love. I despaired to demonstrate my gratitude.

All the while Gina languidly frigged her clit while admiring herself in the mirror. 

Suddenly Gina stopped, turned, and grabbed me by the hair on the back of my head. She forced my face back and looked intently down into my face. "Enough. It's clean. A decent attempt, but you've a lot to learn." I looked up into Gina's mesmerizing eyes. "Your tongue is a pathetic excuse for a cock." She smiled and spit directly into my face. 

"Stand and get naked." Gina pushed me away, carried her wine to the bed, and relined. Gina critiqued as I stripped for her, "You have a nice body. Anna likes men with slim, muscular bodies. Put your hands behind your head. Spread your legs, suck in your gut; chest out; arch your back; eyes down. Good, a very nice pose. Anna is going to love you; she is going to love this piece of man meat I am bringing to her. And you are going love Anna's strict course of instruction. Enough, I'm getting bored with you. Go draw a bath. I need to clean your slaver off. Get out of my sight."

Leaning back and taking up her wine, Gina waved her hand and sent me away. I fretted, "Get her bath. Yes, dear, of course. But who is this Anna? Gina has been discussing me with her, and she set up an appointment for an evaluation. What's next? Gina said a strict course of instruction. What more is there to learn; what more can they make me do? Gina has already made this appointment? How did she know I would agree to this outrageous demand, especially after she fucked another man and stuck my face into her cunt dripping with his come? If I refused, would she take him to be her slave instead? What has she told this Anna about me?

"Gina talked to other women about me too, talked about making me a more submissive male. How long has this been going on? What more can I do? Will I be shown to these other women? Will Gina show me to them like dog in a pet show? It is one thing to play the role of Gina's slave here in private, but to be embarrassed in front of other women? 

"This Anna is a couples counselor or a relationship guru. What does that mean, is she some sort of pop shrink? Gina told Anna what I am, what I do for her. How can I face that woman? Anna teaches men to respect woman. Does that mean Anna will be a partner in our sex games? I don't want other women to see me like this.

"These are dangerous sex games; just with Gina I am lost; what will this Anna do to me? I have surrendered my body and my soul to Gina. She has taken my home; she has somehow taken my job; she has wrecked what was my life. She has just made me eat another man's come out of her cunt. I am so revolted with myself I could wretch, but she wants more. I want more; I want to give more, but what more can I give. What more can Gina take? What more can this Anna scrape out of me" 

I knelt on the hard wet floor by the tub as it filled with hot water and the bathroom clouded with steam. Gina padded naked across the floor and eased into the water without a ripple of acknowledgement of my attendance. 

In the sultry fog, I dreamed: 

She is a magic water nymph floating in a warm pool. Her dark eyes gaze off into nothing, seeing things beyond my understanding. Her slim legs converge at the dark thatch cloaking my shrine. Her slender arms coil over her shoulders, fingers entwine behind her graceful neck, slick streams of black hair flow upon a face so lovely I might cry. She closes her eyes and sees yet deeper. She stretches; her finely muscled back arches; her grace enthralls... 

A she-cat slinks through a labyrinth of shadows below a sun-dappled rainforest drowning in humidity. The heated feline slips into the shady flow of a jungle stream warm and thick as blood, transforming into a serpentine river spirit. 

Her large dark nipples swell to an erection upon her ideal body. The water idol is oblivious to her servant kneeling by the edge of her tranquil pool. A bead of moisture runs to the edge of her dreaming eye, hangs, then, races down her flawless cheek. She shimmers.

Worry troubles my reverie. Steaming water fogs the air; mist clogs my sight; clouds muddle my soggy judgment. I knell eyes downcast, cock rock hard, unfulfilled. How did my life come to this?



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 06



Eric: Secretaries

Eric could not have known how far he had fallen, why he had been cut from the herd, or the power of the forces that preyed upon him. He just did not have enough information. All he knew was that his life had been great, then the old man retired, his daughter Ashley took over the company, and everything fell apart. Eric thought he had been careful to play the new boss's game, to make a show of respect, but Ashley just didn't seem to like him. Unfortunately for Eric, no amount of brown nosing would have saved him. Eric had no clue. Ashley had special plans for him.

Eric thought it very odd that Ashley hired his secretary Shyanne away from him. Despite her natural talents, Shyanne had no resume at all. She was a high school dropout, and, other than working for Eric, her only experience was prostitution. Shyanne had no personal connections with anyone else in the firm. She was a whore with a lot to hide from the vanilla suburban types who populated the company. Shyanne and Eric were isolated and united against the world by personal preference and by their secret, unethical conduct. Shyanne was simply not at all the type a high class Ivy Leaguer like Ashley should want for her secretary. 

When Ashley took Shyanne away, both Shyanne and Eric were disturbed. Shyanne wanted no part of the imperious Ashley and offered to quit, but Eric asked her to stay on to be his spy. Eric thought Shyanne might be able to break the ice for him with Ashley, and that she might provide intelligence about what was going on with that stuck up, superior bitch. That did not work out. Once Shyanne was working for Ashley, she operated just as she had for Eric. She was efficient, effective, conspiratorially quiet, and loyal to her new boss.

Eric knew something was wrong at work, but his crazy new sex life with Gina had made him more than a little addled. Eric simply could not focus on bureaucratic in-fighting when Gina was sending him off to the office each morning with pussy juice smeared all over his face.

A co-worker would say good morning and it was all that Eric could do to respond with a straight face—a straight face covered with pussy sap drying to a fine, translucent crust. Eric would respond, "Hey, good morning, babe. It's a great day out there isn't it?" He was thinking, "I hope she can't smell this stuff all over my face. Don't scratch your nose you idiot. Don't touch it; that would be too obvious. Don't draw attention to it. Gina was so wet this morning. She dripped all over me. Don't think about Gina; damn, you already have a hardon. I hope it doesn't show. Thank goodness for suit jackets. I hope Gina didn't drip on my tie. Is she looking my tie? What the hell is this woman saying to me?"

"A great day? It's raining cats and dogs. Eric, Eric honey, earth to Eric." All in all, Eric was floundering.

And so he lost Shyanne, his money making machine was falling apart, and his co-workers began thinking he was weird. So what? Eric was happy as a baby at his first birthday party. Ashley assigned Eric a newly hired secretary, the voluptuous Maria. She was just more syrupy icing on Eric's big sweet sex cake. But Maria was worse than useless at supporting Eric's nefarious sales methods. She was a giggling, blabbering airhead, but Eric still had the sense not to share anything with her about how he worked. Unfortunately, that left Eric with no support just when he needed it most. The few tasks Eric assigned to Maria she screwed up or ignored. There was little Eric could do about that. No amount of scolding could have made Maria more effective, and besides, she was Ashley's personal choice for Eric.

Not that Eric really cared. Plenty of money was still rolling in from earlier sales arrangements. Besides, the company was laden with people getting big bucks for doing nothing but pretending to work. Eric resigned himself to simply treading water, merely trying to survive by keeping his head down and above water at the same time. 

Maria may have been useless in many ways, but she was a great show. She just loved her own tits, her big, sweet, giggly melons. Maria was hot, she knew she was hot, and knowing she was hot, made her hotter still. She would wear short, clinging dresses that rode up to her crotch as she sprawled back in her chair, legs crossed, phone propped up at her ear, obliviously chatting with friends and doing her nails while her pink panties peeked out under the hem of her dress. The next day she might wear high Cuban heals, a dress with deep cut cleavage, and a double duty push up bra thrusting forth an expanse of luscious, alluring, bulging skin. Her giant boobs would bounce and ripple as she rose from her chair to teeter off to her two-hour breaks from doing nothing. Eric didn't care; he just kicked back and enjoyed the show. 

Maria took any occasion to swing her pendulous breasts in Eric's face. At any time she might walk into Eric's office unannounced; lean over his desk, cleavage plunging, breasts hanging heavy; lay some inconsequential memo down on Eric's desk just below her bobbling boobs; and purr, "Hey, boss have you seen this?" 

Eric would stare into the dark trough between Maria's swinging, milky sacks and reply, "Yes, thank you for bring that to my attention Maria." Maria, bent at the waist, leaning across the desk, would take Eric's lust as a compliment (she just loved turning the guys on), and would thank him with a smile and a coy wiggle that sent ripples across the open expanse of her bosom. Then Maria would rise up, throw back her shoulders and thrust out her chest, thus sending her breasts heaving out toward Eric's ogling face. She would say something like, "Your welcome boss. I thought you needed to see that." As she walked out of Eric's office Maria would glance over her shoulder to be sure her show had had the desired effect. Each time Maria looked back, Eric would be sitting, staring at her undulating ass with a goofy grin on his face.

Eric had fucked every other girl in the office he thought worth fucking, but he didn't try to fuck Maria, though such a luscious new hire should have been a high priority work objective. That she was his direct subordinate didn't stop him; it could be finessed. It was not that he didn't think her hot or that she wouldn't have happily done him. Maria gave every signal that she wanted it. Even when Gina was wearing him out with sex, he still had cock enough for another girl, but something held him back. After Gina took to sending him off to work with an unsatisfied hardon, Eric still didn't make a move on Maria.

The dilemma was that Eric loved being pushed around by Gina, he loved being used, and he instinctively knew that fucking around would mar Gina's seductive, sedating spell. Being Gina's thing was a twenty four/seven obsession; it was like continuous sex. Eric discovered denying himself the pleasure of diving into Maria intensified the flavor of his capitulation to Gina. His frustrated desire for the sweet confection that was Maria infused his submission to Gina with willful sacrifice. Who needed desert when the main course was so fulfilling? Still, he enjoyed the Maria show. For Eric it was hardcore porn all night with Gina and a soft-core peep show all day with Maria.

Then the trap door opened. Maria buzzed Eric, startling him from a daydream about Gina. Maria told him that Ashley wanted to see him. Eric dutifully rose to Ashley's summons. He hid his erection under his suit jacket and apprehensively marched through the labyrinth of cubicles to his boss's office. Eric entered Ashley's outer office where Shyanne sat. He whispered, "Hey, Shyanne, what's up. What does she want?"

"I'm sorry, Eric, but I can't talk here. Besides, I really don't know anything. I'll call her. Ashley, Eric is here to see you."

"Thank you, Shyanne. Please ask him to wait." Shyanne motioned for Eric to sit, and went back to work, studiously avoiding Eric's presence. 

Fifteen minutes later Eric said, "Do you think she has forgotten me? Maybe you should call her again." 

"That would not be a good idea. She is not in a good mood today, so just be patient." Eric was never good at being patient, but he was trapped. He tried talking to Shyanne, but she just shushed him, saying she was busy. Eric sat, fidgeted, and finally sagged into sleepy sex fantasies. The tapping of Shyanne's keyboard lulled Eric to a stupor. The intercom startled the daydreamer. Business popped his pleasant bubble. "Send him in." 

Shyanne ushered Eric into Ashley's office without making eye contact. She looked like she might cry.

This had been the old man's office, a place to receive praise, awards, and more money. It was completely changed. The golf trophies and the smell of cigars were gone. Maybe it was just the flowers, but even the air seemed feminized. The large suite was furnished with contemporary fine art, artsy primitive objects, and pricey good taste. On the wall behind Ashley's desk was a large oil painting that to Eric looked something like a Picasso. Eric hated modern art, if stuff a hundred years old could be called modern. There was just something nauseating about that pretentious, incomprehensible bullshit. The low lighting with accents on special pieces reminded Eric of a museum. There were a lot of tribal masks—scary, funny looking things. A small antique lamp (solid gold?) lit the surface of Ashley's desk in the darkened office. The room quietly exuded wealth. A weird elitism slithered in this nest. 

Ashley didn't look up as Eric entered. She sat legs crossed pushed back from her desk, intently studying a folder and making notes. The slit in her calf length skirt rode up to mid thigh. Eric tried to avoid admiring Ashley's young legs. Otherwise Ashley's attire was austere, mannish, and all business. Wire rim glasses slumped down to the tip her pert nose. Ashley's pretty face was pale and sparsely made up, her lips thin and bloodless. Eric stood waiting for his young boss to concede his presence somehow. The large strange painting on the wall behind Ashley seemed to stare at him. Eric felt queasy.

After silently standing for several minutes Eric tried, "Good morning, Ashley." Except for a fleeting grimace of revulsion, Ashley still did not acknowledge her employee suspended before her pursuant to her summons. Eric waited.

Eventually Ashley removed her glasses and looked up. She didn't speak, but looked Eric up and down with apparent derision. At last she said, "I can't for the life me guess what makes you think it is appropriate to address your superior on a first name basis. I suppose this is yet another aspect of your sloppy, unprofessional conduct. However since this involves me personally, I take it personally. This is fair notice; your familiarity is unwanted. Don't repeat it. Now to the business at hand. I am busy so I will be brief. Shyanne, bring me Eric's file."

The intercom responded, "Yes, Ashley, right away." Eric was shaken by Ashley's open hostility and about the complaint of using her first name. From the mailroom on up everyone used first names. This phony familiarity had always been the corporate culture despite the strict caste system on anything that really mattered. Shyanne handed a folder to Ashley and left without looking at Eric. She seemed distraught. Eric attempted, "Miss Sanders, I'm sorry, but..."

"Be quiet. I have an important meeting in a few minutes and I don't have much time for you. However, I must inform you that it has come to my attention that there are substantial irregularities in your expense accounts going back many years. I hope this is just more sloppiness on your part and not something more serious. Take this file and make the appropriate corrections."

Eric's expense accounts hid all kinds of improprieties—cover-ups for the expense of whores and strippers, rooms for the entertainment, and petty bribes, everything a good defense salesman needed to do his job. But Eric had always gotten the old man's personal approval, bypassing the regular vetting of expense claims. The approval discussions had always been a great opportunity to share sales war stories with the old man. The old guy loved dirty jokes. Eric pleaded, "Miss Sanders, these expenses were directly approved by your father. He and I talked it over each time and he signed off."

"Eric, I don't approve of going outside of the standard approval process or of circumventing acceptable accounting practices. If my father, and I must tell you bringing up my family is personal and offensive yet again, but if my father and you had some sort arraignment, consider it retroactively revoked. Clean up this record and we will discuss what is allowable. I will try to be fair if you have been misled, but I must know the truth of the matter to make those decisions, and to repair any possible legal consequences to the company. Fix the record. That is all." Ashley pushed the file across the desk, picked up her phone, spun her chair away, and showed Eric her back. 

Eric fumed as he retreated to his office. "Now what? There are tens of thousands of dollars in payments just to Shyanne hidden in there. I don't have any documentation; that would have been stupid. Doesn't that stuck up bitch have a clue about how this business works? I have made her family millions. Fuck." Eric was back at his desk fulminating and attempting to concoct a strategy to save his ass when Maria bubbled in unannounced. She smiled and shut the door. She was as sight to behold.

"Hi boss. I was wondering if you could help me. I've got a date tonight with a cool new guy I really like. He's real sophisticated, kind of like you, and I thought maybe you could help me make a good impression, you know, clue me in on what guys like you like. Ok? I had my hair done what do you think?" 

Maria raised her arms and did a pirouette. As Maria spun, her heavy breasts lagged slightly behind the rest of her. Maria stopped and through up her arms in a Broadway showgirl pose. Her breasts kept swinging, slung to a limit almost tipping Maria over, swung back, and finally jiggled to a full stop. 

Eric was speechless, "What do I think? Delightful, delicious. And what do sophisticated guys like? Those tits will do."

Maria stood in front of Eric's desk arms raised waiting for Eric to comment on her hair. Maria had long, thick black hair that looked great hanging straight and natural. But while Eric was dealing with Ashley, Maria had apparently gone out to a beauty shop and had her hair done in a rococo prom-like styling, pulled back and up and piled high with impossible extensions, curls, and synthetic locks falling down to her waist. It would have looked great at the academy awards, but it was ridiculous here in the office. Eric was dumb struck, both at Maria's sudden intimacy in asking for his fashion advice and by the sight of this giggly bimbo displaying herself in his office.

When Eric said nothing, Maria, near tears, cried, "You don't like it!"

"No, no, it's great. You just caught me by surprise. Please Maria; you're an absolutely beautiful girl. Any guy would fall for you. Really, and your hair is great. I was just surprised and didn't know what to say. Your hair is amazing, astonishing in fact."

Now Maria was beaming. "I hope so. You are so sophisticated, and all the girls like you. They all say you're the hottest guy in the office. Do you like the shoes?" Maria stepped one foot forward, pointing her toe. Today's fashion show was a tight short dress that clung to her hips and thighs showing every curve and bulge, even hinting at the cleft in her abundant, womanly mound. Maria stretched a leg forward exposing her plump thigh, pink retro hose, and still pinker garter belt. Maria turned her shoe from side to side. She was wearing ankle breaking, stiletto heeled slippers flashing with pink and blue sequins.

"Very nice."

"Do you like my ankle bracelet?" Maria jumped up to sit on the front edge of Eric's desk, crossed her legs and dangled her foot. Her short skirt rode high on her succulent thighs. "Come around and look. It's so pretty." 

Eric checked to be sure the door was closed, rose from his chair, and when around his desk to look at the ankle bracelet. "Very pretty."

"Oh, you can't see it from there. Get closer." 

Eric leaned a little closer. "Maria, it is very nice, but maybe we shouldn't be doing this here." Eric's cock was getting hard, despite his discomfort with examining his secretary's pretty foot, hot fetish slipper, and anklet right there in his office.

"Please, no one can see. The door's closed. Don't be such a spoilsport. This is fun. Please, read the insignia on my anklet. I think it is so cute."

A voice in Eric's head cried out, "Trap!" But a woozy rhapsody from his groin lustily sang, "Jump." Like a chivalrous knight in a fairy tale bowing to a princess, Eric sank to one knee as he courteously took Maria's foot in his hands. He caressed Maria's slipper. The twinkling pink and blue sequins dazzled. Eric bowed his head to examine Maria's anklet, a chain of linked gold-plated hearts. A bubble gum pink, heart-shaped charm hung from the chain. Eric leaned it closer; the insignia reminded Eric of a child's valentine. "It says, 'You are all mine.'"

"Don't you think that's the cutest thing? One more thing, the girls say that stockings and garters are sexier than panty hose. What do you think?" Maria uncrossed her legs and spread them. The Maria's dress rode up over the tops of her stockings. Eric dropped to both knees in front of his desk, looking directly into Maria's fleshy white thighs. She was not wearing panties. Deep in the shadowy cleft between Maria's plump thighs Eric could make out dense, curly, black hair. Eric smelled pussy. His mouth watered; restraint melted; common sense boiled away.

"Read what it says on the garter, boss." Maria's pussy smelled familiar and novel at once; how would it taste? Maria spread her legs wider, and scooted toward Eric's face. He was now between her knees. The warmth of Maria's thighs enveloped Eric; her musky odor drugged him. A command was embroidered in red script on the pink garter. He whispered, "It says 'Eat me. Eat me. Eat me.'" 

A nebulous impression of a long lost wonderland wafted across Eric's cloudy mind. 

Maria lifted one leg up to the side propping a heel up on the edge of the desk and pushed her crotch still closer into Eric's face. As her legs spread, her dress rode up, fully revealing the carefully trimmed thatch adorning her cunt. Maria's fingers reached down and spread her nether lips apart. Her slit opened like a pink flower before Eric's face. "So, go ahead boss, do what the sign says. Eat."

Control had blown away to a far horizon. Eric did what Gina had taught him so well. He leaned forward, slipped his face under the hem of Maria's dress, and wet the open lips of Maria's pussy with his tongue. With one long slow lick from hole to clit, Eric studied the taste of Maria. Hints of coffee and dark chocolate, floral overtones reminiscent of island breezes, a slight tang of urine—it was an epicurean delight. Maria sprawled back across Eric's desk. Eric dove into the trough, pressed his nose onto Maria's clit, and slipped his tongue into Maria's heating hole. Eric abandoned his post in defense social norms and charged, deploying all the tongue-fucking skills Gina had so carefully drilled into him.

Eric didn't hear his office door open. His tongue was deep in Maria's cunt, his attention deeper. Hot flesh tightly wrapped his head. Blood coursing through Maria's thighs throbbed in his ears. Eric was lost in his happy place. He happily swam in Maria's watery cave, when, as if from an impossibly distant surface, he heard the faint echo of a voice. 

Eric thought, "Leave me be. I like it here. This pussy is sweet, what an alluring new flavor. Maria, am I doing it right? Let me pleasure you. Do you enjoy my tongue half as much as I adore serving your pussy? See how good I am; my Gina taught me all the secrets of pleasing women. My tongue is well trained and strong, isn't it sweet girl? You'll see; I can go on for hours. Gina's cunt sucker will amaze you."




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 06



Suddenly Maria shoved Eric out into the cold. All reason and common care had vanished; Eric's mind was awash in images, yearnings, and compulsions of gorging on pussy. Eric tried to lean in, extending his tongue to reach out for more. Then it hit him like a club, Ashley's angry, discordant voice, "What is this?" From his hands and knees, Eric turned, dazed, drugged, his face smeared with fresh pussy dew.

Three silhouettes stood in his office door. Something nagged that not all was right, but it didn't matter. Eric's cock insisted. It had to have its way. Still zipped up in his pants untouched, Eric penis overthrew sanity and satisfied its inescapable imperative. Eric creamed in his pants.

Ashley stood in the open door hands on hips looking down on Eric. Shyanne stood behind with Claudia, the newly hired General Counsel. Heads popped up over cubicles all across the work floor to see what the fuss was about. Two flabbergasted women at the door stifled astonished gasps with hands to their gaping mouths. Ashley just smirked.

Eric blankly looked up into Ashley's eyes and, uncontrollably, mechanically, futilely, rutted in his pants.



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 07



My reverie slipped to the edge of sleep as I knelt patiently beside the bathtub where Gina silently reclined motionless in the steaming water. Finally, as serene as an elemental water nymph ascending with the morning mist, Gina arose. Her slim olive body glistened; her dark dense hair shimmered and rained soft droplets into the warm water. Gina didn't speak, but handed me a towel. I devotedly knelt and reverently blotted her dry. As Gina turned to pad away across the puddled floor I started to rise to follow, but Gina tenderly placed her hand on my shoulder silently obliging me to kneel and wait. I worshipfully obeyed my water spirit. 

She returned a few moments later saying, "Anna gave me this today. I'm sorry, but she said you must wear it to our appointment. Anna does not like dealing with men who are not, as she puts it, "properly hobbled". Your cock has finally shrunken, so you better put it on quickly before it gets big again."

My penis had indeed shriveled to a trifling flaccid thing. Gina handed me a small metal contraption constructed of three small steel rings welded to three straps to assemble a narrow cylindrical cage. The whole thing was about two inches long, with a bar enclosing one end and eyelets terminating each strap at the other end. "It's a cock cage, or male chastity belt. Anna insists that males be constrained in her presence, and she insists that the confinement be as tight and constricting as possible. I told her that you could wear a size small. I find it remarkable how tiny your shrunken dick can get considering how big it is hard. Put it on quickly, that thing is starting to grow already." 

I took the contraption from Gina, but it wouldn't slide over my still soft dick. Gina stood over me like a third grade teacher watching a slow student struggle with fractions. "Pinch the cock head and thread it through the rings. That's it. Now reach in and pull the cock head past the end bar as far as you can. Pull it tight against your body. Good, now stuff the head back behind the end bar. Thread this through the eyelets. That's it. Now stand up." 

I followed Gina's instructions, pulling my soft cock through the rings, and then threading a long, light chain through the eyelets on the cage. Gina was right to caution me to be quick; my cock was beginning to swell and if it were any bigger, it would not have fit through the restrictive rings. Gina pulled the ends of the chain back between my legs, looped them up and around my waist and back under the chain in front so the whole affair could be pulled tight. She locked everything in place with a small padlock. My cock was imprisoned within the unyielding steel rings while the chain held everything tight against my body. The effect was to limit my cock to a pathetic two-inch length, and to squeeze the girth into the tiny dimension permitted by the steel rings. 

The slight discomfort of the apparatus increased to moderate pain as my cock began to swell against the bars of its jail. The cage was indeed an effective chastity belt, if chastity could have anything to do with this obscene display of sexual submission. An erection was impossible. The steel rings easily defeated my hopeless, pathetically insistent engorgement. Ah sweet chastity, at least the matter was now out of the hands of my pitiable will. My prideful manhood was coldly crushed. 

Gina stood back and admired her handy work. "Oh that's nice. Anna's right; men should have their cocks hobbled in the presence of women. Now one more thing, you will also wear a testicle harness. Stand up and bend over the sink counter. Spread your legs." 

Gina knelt behind me, took hold of my scrotum, and squeezed my balls down until they popped out below her fist. I had become accustomed to the odd and sexy sensation of Gina's hand around my scrotum. Gina pulled, kneaded and quashed my balls. My cock's dumb masculine imperative drove mindless assaults against the bars of its prison, but of course, this impossible revolt failed. 

The steely rule of feminine dominion prevailed. My conquering queen proclaimed, "Ah, the poor thing can't get hard. Too bad, I win. But you still like it when I take you by the balls don't you? You like giving me your balls, letting me play with these slippery, vulnerable jewels, don't you honey?" Gina clenched her fist, bore down, and stretched my scrotum to its limit.

I pulled back against aching strain and embraced the dull, seductive pain. Whenever Gina took me by the balls, she compelled surrender and obliged submission to her command. I hissed through clenched teeth, "Yes. I want to give my balls to you. My balls made me your slave. Take them; take me. When you first took me by the balls, you seized my heart and my soul. I don't know where you learned your magic, but it works. Take my balls; take control. Make me weak, exposed, and vulnerable, and that's all I want to be. Thank you. Please, please, never stop using me." The ache in my groin was a sinful indulgence intense beyond imagining. The shameful truth was that until Gina took my balls, I had not known what gratification meant.

Before Gina, I was strictly a cock kind of guy. I shielded my testicles against pain and so denied myself the finest intensity of pleasure. Occasionally a girl had licked my balls in the course of giving head, but the slight tickling had just made me nervous. I worried about damage to the family jewels. "A kick in the balls." It's not just an expression, as I had learned from painful experience in a scramble for a basketball. I caught an accidental knee to the crotch and collapsed to the ground, grasping my crotch, gasping for air, and doubled over from the piercing pain. From then on, like men everywhere, I was very skittish and protective of my testicles.

When Gina first played with my balls, I started to warn her off, but she would have none of it. She promised me she would not hurt me and that I would love it. She was true to her word, at least about the loving it part. She lied shamelessly about the impending pain. 

I let her have her way. Gina held my sack in her fist and gently messaged my testicles with her thumb. Then she licked my scrotum, took my balls into her mouth, and rolled my testicles around with her tongue. With a gentle pulling and soft stroking, she sucked as if she were milking me. I could not get enough of this strange new treat. 

Gina knew precisely how far to take me in each encounter, gradually addicting me to this odd delight, each time taking me a step further down the path she had chosen for me. Gina's control was exquisite. She lay between my legs filling me with a pleasure so pure I could not have imagined it. I craved more, and with each encounter, Gina gave more, and took more, sucking and pulling on my testicles longer and harder. She used her teeth. The promise of more dragged me deeper, deeper into bliss and surrender, deeper under Gina's control. 

Gina carefully led me to the brink of that vividly remembered piercing pain, and held me balanced on the razor's edge between pain and pleasure. She sucked my balls into her mouth, and with precise control, ran her teeth over and then into my testicles, tenderly pulling, softly tugging, then firmly yanking. She so gradually drove pleasure into pain that I could not tell them apart. If I gasped from a sudden stab of pain she would stop, look up at me, and laugh, "Don't be such a baby. I know you like it, so stop whining. You don't want me to stop, do you? You usually seem to like the way I use your balls, but I'll stop if you like. Otherwise, please be quiet." 

Gina, lying between my legs, my balls firmly grasped in her fist, looked up at me with a mocking smirk. She would wait until I begged for more.

"Please Gina don't stop. I will be silent."

"Not good enough."

"Please mistress, I need you. Please hurt me; please make me ache; please take my balls in your mouth, in your teeth. Punish me."

"More."

"Oh don't be so cruel. Indulge me. Indulge yourself. Sink your teeth into it; rip me; use me. I will be quiet. Hurt me; punish me. I beg you."

"Since you beg." And then she would take my balls back into her mouth, briefly shift back toward tenderness, and finally, with progressively increasing pressure, Gina would punish me for complaining. Gina sunk her teeth deeper, harder into my manhood and tore down the illusions that held me together as a man. She drove me to the yawning edge of punishing pain, and then threw me over the cliff, past the petty bounds of self-survival instinct, and beyond trifling care for tomorrow or even personal identity.  

I struggled to obey and suffer in silence. I did not scream. But I could not quell my girlish squeals and raspy hissing moans, so I glossed over my failure to be quiet with whiny begging for more. Her teeth ripped at my balls while I writhed. I thanked my mistress for the ache, pleaded for her forgiveness, and prayed to my goddess for more. I begged Gina not to stop; I begged for more pain; I begged her to take my balls. She indulged me. 

Gina threw me over the cliff, and I fell down and down and crashed onto jagged boulders. A swift current of agony coursed through me and swept away all that I had been. The gnawing ache in my groin became the river Gina, and I became its hollow canyon eroded to bedrock. To please my Gina at last I submerged all resistance. I was silent. 

Gina took me with knowing skill and exquisite execution. She knew exactly how to bind the physical to the psychological. She was precise and practiced in the use and care of a male's testicles. She knew just how much to suck for pleasure and how deep to sink her teeth into the meat of the thing for pain, but not destruction. She was meticulous in her care for the cords to preserve the blood vessels and nerves. She was scrupulous in her gnaw on the ball itself. She broke scrotal skin, but not the germ within. My sack bore her teeth marks; my testicles bore only the ache. She did not break the eggs, but she scrambled the brain.

With unerring accuracy, Gina took me to psychological devastation, but short of medical disaster. I became entirely hers, her thing—her empty vessel to be filled with pain. I became her cup to be drained at her pleasure. In the crucible of my tortured being, Gina's gift of pain transmuted to pleasure—deep, dark, rich indulgence. I luxuriated in anguish as Gina drank her fill. I carelessly spilled my soul. 

When sated, Gina dismissed me. I immediately craved more. From my crotch to the pit of my gut, a fading echo of the punishing pain called to me throughout the day. I dreamed of Gina constantly. Throughout the day's tedious wait for more, the ache in my groin counseled gratitude for each petty insult and each dismissive affront with which Gina favored me. Gina renewed the screeching agony each evening. The enduring ache was a constant reminder of my love, of my submission, and a relentless call to beg for more. 

Gina made me lay naked spread eagle on the bed. She knelt between my legs, grasped my balls and smiled, "Time for your treatment. Take it like a man. Take it in silence." Then she would bend over me like a carnivore at its kill, clenching and wrenching my scrotum, and gnawing on my testicles as she used her free hand to drive herself to satisfaction. All the while, I lay writhing, gasping, fraught with fear that I might be torn apart or that I might offend her with a scream. But I eagerly, earnestly offered my manhood to whatever fate Gina dealt and struggled only to yield in silent gratitude. 

Gina handled me shrewdly and I followed her down the path of utter capitulation. She schooled me in the peculiar raptures of pain and submission. I was an apt student. After my absolute surrender, Gina made me beg for it. She made me get on my knees at her feet and beg her to torture my balls. Finally, for three long weeks, my balls were denied their fix, and I was denied orgasms. Gina utterly deprived my testicles of her therapy. She punished me by denying me punishment. It drove me mad; I was obsessed, fixated, crazed. I constantly craved that weird pain/pleasure to which Gina had addicted me. 

But now I was bent over the bathroom counter legs spread, my dick swelling, straining against its new cage with Gina squatting behind, at last again fondling my balls. I looked at the face in the mirror. How could that face still look so much the same as my old self? All within was new, better. Gina clenched and wrung my balls with crushing force. The face in the mirror contorted to a pained grimace. "Ah yes. This is my new face."

"What's the matter, baby, this always used to get your dick big and hard? But today it's still so small and pathetic. Such a pity, I guess your cock of steel really isn't as strong as real steel, is it? It's all bound up, bursting, but busted. How nice. Now this." 

Gina operated on my crotch. She wrapped a leather strap behind my scrotum and around the base of my caged cock. It snapped shut. Attached below was another wider strap. Gina wrapped this firmly around just my scrotum. Again it snapped tight. My balls bulged out below just as if Gina were grasping them in her loving fist. Gina then pulled a final thin strap over the end, separating my balls until they popped out at the sides like two mushrooms. Gina attached a chain dog leash to the ball-separating strap and ordered, "Stand up. Put your hands behind your head and look at yourself in the mirror." 

I looked up. I could hardly believe what I saw. My balls hung low between my legs, their size exaggerated by the effect of bulging through the restraining harness, but my cock was pathetically small, almost not there, constrained within the glinting steel of the chastity cage. Gina had at last granted the thing my balls craved. It was not Gina's strong fist or the judicious bite of her teeth, but mechanical, unloving grasp of a leather harness.

In the bathroom mirror, I saw Gina standing behind me with a thrilled grin. "Oh, I like that. Anna is so right. That is the way a slave boy should be kept." Gina grabbed the leash, lifted it up back between my legs and yanked. I stumbled backwards. "Follow me boy. Keep your hands behind your head." I respected her summons. I followed my ruler as she led me by the balls. I struggled to keep up, shuffling backwards, hands behind my head, my ball leash tugging me along. Gina grinned back at me with the dog leash slung over her shoulder marching me toward the bedroom. I viewed the whole ludicrous parade in the bathroom mirror, the grinning bitch dragging her trussed up beast to who knows what sort of sacrifice. 

Once in the bedroom Gina sat on the edge of the bed. "Now you will assist me in getting dressed. I left some bags at the front door with some things I bought just for our meeting with Anna. Fetch them."

I turned obediently, realizing that I would have to walk naked, cock and balls bound across the apartment with the window blinds open so that any casual observer would see my predicament. I was beyond caring. My leash dragged behind between my legs rattling across the floor as I fetched Gina's shopping bags. When I returned Gina laid out her purchases on the bed. Leather was the theme, a closely fitted red leather top with long sleeves and priestly collar, a full-length black leather sarong, and red, thigh length, high heel platform boots. 

Gina put on the top, and turned her back to me without a word expecting me to zip her up. The leather was a perfect skintight fit. The zipper closed snugly on the deep inward curve of Gina's beautiful lower back, firmly embracing her tiny waist before closely following the arching expanse to her board shoulders. I surreptitiously ran my finger from the deep hollow of Gina's back to the exploding fullness of the ass I worshipped. She handed me the sarong dress. I wrapped the supple leather around Gina's waist and affixed it by a wide belt with a large silver buckle. 

Gina sat on the bed and crossed her legs. The sarong slit open to just below her crotch. Apparently, Gina would not be wearing panties. Gina pointed her toe at me, "Boots." The dark red leather was slick and pliable with two-inch platforms and six-inch heels. Yet again where I belonged, on my knees before my tyrant, serving, I eased Gina's foot into the boot and fastened the long rows of buckles to the mid thigh. 

I bent forward and kissed Gina's exposed thigh above the top of her boot and contentedly continued my duties. As Gina uncrossed her legs, I glimpsed her love gash deep in the shadowy slit cut in the black leather of her dress. The beguiling scent of leather enveloped me. Sadly, the odor of my goddess's cunt had been washed away in her bath. I pined for it. I buckled the second boot high onto Gina's thigh. Diamond anklets affixed over the boots completed the ensemble. 

Gina rose before me. She was magnificent—blood red and night black, all cold shinning leather. My ruler towered above me as I gazed up from my knees groveling at her feet. Now a full six inches taller, Gina was thoroughly imposing. She ignored me and admired herself in the mirror, posing, looking profile right then left. Gina then stood with legs apart. She threw her shoulders back, breathed in deeply, grabbed me by my hair and forced me to bow. She smiled to herself in the mirror, "Anna will like this." 

She looked down on me, "Slave, I will put on my makeup, and you will dress. Wear a sport jacket, black tee shirt and loose pants. Be sure your ball leash comes out the front of your pants so that it's available for me to use as I wish, but put the excess length in your front pocket so that your chain does not hang below your jacket. It's time for you to meet Anna. Get prepared."

She turned to the mirror to enjoy her image. "Leave me."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 08



Gina: College

After high school, Gina left her Midwestern home eager to remake herself. She imagined the eastern liberal arts school she had chosen would be the perfect place to be reborn. It would be an intellectual environment where she would be appreciated, a place to fit in, and a culture where she would no longer be considered odd, rather, exceptional like all of the other elite students. She would leave the philistines and the petty bourgeoisie of her dreary world behind in the rural dust. Gina's superiority would at last be recognized. Gina would engage the world, connect, join, mix—hook up. There would be friends, even a boyfriend, and sex, adventurous sex. Maybe Gina could even learn to laugh. 

She would find a boyfriend, someone smart, interesting, and good-looking. She would no longer be lonely and isolated, and she need not worry that she was too picky about friends because only brightest kids got into this school. At college, she would not have to look down on anyone, and no one would look down on her. Here at her new school the boys would be smart and interesting, and so they would like and appreciate her. 

Gina would find a boy who was caring, hip, and funny. He'd be cultured, daring, athletic, and well read. Her new boyfriend would be world wise, cheerful, innocent, sensuous, experienced, and fresh. He would be as handsome as Gina was pretty. He would her give space and be there when she needed him. He would be strong, but vulnerable; open, yet centered; creative and dependable; forgiving and principled; imaginative, steadfast; spontaneous, reliable; audacious and affectionate, but most of all appreciative. Gina wouldn't have to put up with those zit-picking cretins any longer. 

When she arrived, Gina discovered that all girls were scrambling to get into the right sorority. Gina too wanted to escape the cramped, regimented dorm. She felt as if she had been stuffed into a cabinet drawer in a corporate file room so enormous it was invisible. However, Gina did not have clue which sorority was the way up to the brave new world where she belonged. Rush seemed to be no more than a daze of drunken banality, just children behaving badly. These should have been all the elite students. Why didn't someone tell her where the smart kids were? 

Gina went to all the parties, but she mostly sat by silently watching everyone else having a great time mixing and mating. Gina tried to fit in; she tried to be acceptable; she tried to be bright and cheerful; she tried to talk. She smiled a lot. That was hard. Gina was painfully aware that rush was a competitive test, and those who passed won entry to a better world. And those who didn't? Well, they just sort of fell off the edge of the world. Gina tossed sleeplessly at night, shaken by anxiety and doubt. 

Gina did not realize that she could have gotten into any of the sororities and that they were all pretty much the same. Even though the other girls thought Gina was a bit of a hick due to her Midwestern accent, her shyness was mistaken to be a sign of a studious intelligence, even superiority. And Gina had the one trait that really mattered; she was the prettiest of that year's crop of freshmen girls. The selection committees judged the pledges by the attractiveness of their faces, the length of their legs, the slenderness of their waists, and the density of their hair. Of course, the committees did not use that vocabulary. Rather they told themselves they were looking for interesting, confidant, and popular girls, but in the jittery mania of rush week, no one could really judge these things, and so the superficial ruled. The pretty girls won. And as peculiar and private as Gina was, she was the prettiest. 

Poor Gina did not know she had won the game just by walking into the room. She sat quietly by the side, and softly and politely deflecting conversations. Inside she was a storm of self-loathing.

On the fourth straight night of parties, Gina was so bored she gave up and left early. As she stepped out of the door, a slight, pretty girl with plain brown hair and no make up touched her arm. She wore a beat up motorcycle jacket and biker boots, and spoke a badly faked workingman's dialect covering a refined upper crust accent. "This is a sad excuse for a party, ain't it? Boring. But hang in a bit. Come back in with me and I'll show you how to have fun even here. Stick with me; let me be your tour guide at this zoo. I'll show you how funny it all is." 

Gina looked into the stranger's soft brown eyes and thought, "Maybe this is the cool friend I have been looking for." She liked the leather jacket; it reminded her of the happiest day of her life. Gina didn't say anything; she didn't have to, because the girl seemed to know exactly who and what Gina was. She slipped her arm under Gina elbow, mocked a dance to the excessively loud house-music, and escorted Gina back to the party. 

"That one over there, the one with the big tits and all the cleavage hanging out; she's the queen bee. Queeny is so proud of those boobs. Her Daddy bought them for her. She's not an officer of the sorority, because that would be actual work, but she's in charge. The skinny one over there with too much makeup, the giraffe, they call her President, but her actual title is Queen Bee Flunky. See the chubby wart hog over there with the porcine herd at the bar giggling and swilling down the beers. She's the Social Director, which means she does all the work that the queen bee has told the giraffe to do. As you can see we have lots of herd animals at our zoo—elephants, wildebeests, and rhinos. The queen bee puts up with them because they pay the bills. See that prissy little thing at the punch bowl. You wouldn't know it to look at her but she's a baboon. I know she's a baboon because last year at the end of rush she got down on her knees to show off her pink butt to a group fraternity baboons, and then she took on all of them. The queen bee didn't like that one bit, and she stung the bad girl baboon."

Gina was smiling for the first time in weeks. She might have laughed if she were able, but she had not learned that trick yet. Just as Gina was finally having fun at the zoo, the queen bee confronted the sightseers. "Ashley, didn't we tell your never to step foot in here again. Didn't the judge say the same thing, 'Cease. Desist'. What part of 'Stay Away' isn't clear? You were not invited, so you will have to leave. Sorry if you miss our parties, our company, our fun, but you had your chance and you blew it, so leave. Gina, I am so sorry about this; please stay. Ashley is just trying to get some sort of sick revenge for being kicked out of our sorority. Please come with me, there are some people you should meet." 

The girl in the motorcycle jacket smiled at the queen bee and said, "Queeny, you're such a bore. I see you're all getting good and drunk again. Remember last year? Remember how drunk you got and how you tried to stop the girls just as they were going to have some real fun sucking the cocks of the entire football team. 'Ladies, please. This is highly improper.' Then you puked your guts out. Now that was funny. But mostly you're just a bore, no fun at all...Queeny."

"Don't call me that. Ashley that disaster was all your doing. You instigated the whole thing and then sat back and laughed at us, people who had befriended you. Gloria hasn't been back to school since. Get out. We don't want you here."

"Good, cause I'm out of here. Boring party. And, as if you cared, your little sister Gloria is doing just fine. At least I still talk to her. Yeah, she is feeling so good, feeling all right. Gloria doesn't need this school, this sorority, or you. Besides, I didn't know her pretty head would explode just from giving the team a little head. And your little sister gives such good head. I like it. Are you sure you don't want me to send the guys over to liven things up, say, just about midnight?" Ashley danced to an old tune. 

"Get out you vicious whore. Get out." Queeny's decorum blew up into a loud screech.

The buzz in the hive suddenly stopped and everyone stared at Queeny, Ashley, and Gina. The exile in leather waved to everyone and turned to walk away. The queen bee grabbed Gina's arm to prevent her from leaving with Ashley. Ashley said, "That's ok. Go with Queeny and enjoy the zoo. If you belong here, you'll know it. If not, I know how to find you. Go on; meet the menagerie. I'll see you latter. Promise." Gina watched forlornly as her strange new friend, the pariah in the motorcycle jacket, walked out the door and the queen bee led Gina back into the jungle.

Gina enjoyed secretly creating her own taxonomy throughout the rest of the evening. There were snakes and gazelles, tigers and titmice. However, none of the creatures would discuss Ashley, except to warn Gina that Ashley was a dangerous pervert who would have been kick out of the school, if not jailed, but for her family's money. One girl complained that Ashley had tried to get her to watch lesbian prison movies, as if that were the lowest form of entertainment on earth. Gina had never heard of such a thing, but she was curious.

At the end of the night, the queen bee pulled Gina aside and confided, "I am not supposed to tell you this now Gina, but you will be accepted into our sorority. This has always been the most prestigious house on campus. Don't let our probation status fool you; that was all Ashley's fault. Stay away from that girl. She's big time trouble."

As Gina walked through the late evening coolness back to her dorm room, the clean moist fragrance of the summer's last cut of grass filled the night air. Exhilaration charged the night and tingled on Gina's skin. It was not the surprising acceptance Gina had stumbled upon at the sorority, but the mysterious outcast that lit her imagination. In the chill of the late summer night, laughing clusters of revelers milled about and pairs of young lovers slipped conspiratorially into the darkness. Gina knew the sorority would accept her, but she was hoping Ashley would find her first. As Gina step up to into the security lights at the dorm entrance, she heard Ashley's voice in the shadows. "So Gina did you enjoy your trip to the zoo?" 

"Hi. Where are you? It's too dark; I can't see you. They said your name is Ashley. I'm sorry you had to leave. God, I was so bored until you showed up. Could we get to know each other? Where are you? It's so dark."

"Come to me. Step away from the light and come to me. Come to my voice here in the darkness. The shade is soothing."

Gina stepped toward Ashley's voice, but the glaring security lighting had blinded her, and the shadows were a uniform blackness. Gina stumbled, Ashley caught her, and suddenly she was in Ashley's arms. Gina's heart leapt—free fall.

"Hi, Gina. Yeah, I am Ashley." Darkness surrounded Gina, the fresh earthy smell of night enclosed her, and Ashley's presence swaddled her. Gina began to make out forms in the shadows—a pretty face. Gina's feet sunk into the cushion of freshly mowed grass. This was Ashley's cool world. The leather jacket and jeans reminded Gina of the motorcycle guys. She shivered, either from the fresh night chill, or trembling anticipation of novel thrills. The girl stood too close, holding Gina's arms and looking intently into her eyes.

Gina pushed back, expecting the girl to retreat to a more socially neutral distance. Instead, warm hands rose to enfold the shivering skin on back of Gina's neck, and sparkling brown eyes fixed Gina firmly in their grasp. Ashley probed Gina's mind, delving into depths Gina herself avoided, seeking, then tasting, a sweet secret buried within. All the while Ashley spun a distracting web of words at the pressured pitch of a carnival magician.

"We've been watching you since you got here. I like your style, your look, but you seem a little lost. That's pretty much to be expected just starting college and all. I decided to check you out and see if you'd like to run with us. My friends are a different set, people into things more interesting than that kiddy sorority/fraternity bullshit. I'm guessing you need something more, something better than normal.

"What'd you think? Wanna be in on our secret? Wanna run with us out here in the shadows? It takes courage to be different. Can you do it?" 

The girl stood too close. Gina's neuroses sang to her, "Don't stand; don't stand; don't stand so close to me." Gina worried, "Do folks out east stand this close? They shouldn't do that. Still, I like this one. It smells of peppermint."

"Ashley...," there, she could speak, even a name. That thing clenching her throat couldn't stop her; the peppermint vapor helped. "I don't know. Who are the others? What are you about; I hardly know you are and now you are telling me there are others? It sounds so cool, but I don't know what you're really talking about, or whether I can be the kind of girl you guys are looking for. What do you guys do?"

A weak panic fluttered through Gina whining that it was unfair of the girl to stand so close holding her like that. Make her back off. The girl's glinting eyes were a flickering candle illuminating the closed space encircled by the couple huddled against the night. Gina bathed in the warmth of the girl's body. Her peppermint breath steamed briefly in the cool night air. As Gina's eyes adjusted to the dark, the dawning close up of the girl's unadorned face revealed how pretty she really was. The inches between their faces seemed a mesmerizing, viscous brew at once repelling and attracting, disquieting and soothing. Gina wished she could still her breath. The girl smelled good—peppermint candy, seasoned leather, and freshly cut grass.

"We do lots of things, but what matters is not the doing but the feeling. We are secret because we mean to create mystery. We are mysterious even to each other; I have no idea how many of us there are. We want to be a mystery even to our own selves. To know all there is to know of one's self would be to snuff out one's own life with the soft pillow of boring certainty. We adore surprise. Walk with us into a world of always fresh becoming. This will tell if you can be one of us."

The girl pulled Gina even closer and pressed her lips to Gina's mouth. Gina stiffened in surprise, and then melted into the fervor of Ashley's kiss. Suddenly an alien passion boiled, and Gina found herself eagerly returning Ashley's ardor. The kiss was strange, sexy, and an unfamiliar breath of human intimacy. Gina had spent a lifetime not knowing, not missing, not wanting. When Ashley finally allowed air, Gina gasped a babe's first breath. 

Gina had never been attracted to girls, but the pure perversity of Ashley's forbidden embrace thrilled her. Finally, as Gina's pulsing heart delivered the novel oxygen of that strange kiss to her suffocating social self, Gina's heart could at last speak. "I want you. I mean I want to be your friend. I mean I need...but I'm not the right kind of girl. I can't; I like boys."

"Gina, you have so much to learn. I like boys too. I like men even better. The point is to be everything, to be anything, to never be contained or restrained in a simple-minded definition of what you are, or what you could become. That would be like chiseling your own epitaph onto your tombstone. Let that go until after you are buried in that cold, cold ground." Ashley suddenly pushed Gina away. 

"Forget it. You're scared. I didn't think you'd be such a chicken shit. Maybe you belong in a cage in the zoo. What would the sign say? You choose...something timid, maybe chicken scardi-pantus. Such a shame. You don't have a clue about how lovely you are, how enchanting the flow of your body, how rare your native grace, or of the luminous potential of your soul.

"But that kiss, that was not just me kissing. You were kissing back, kissing the hope for a life of authentic excitement. That kiss told me you could be one of us, if you let yourself be bold. You say you like boys. Great, there're lots of them here. If you need help meeting them, we'll help. But I think what you need is a man, someone to show you the ropes, so to speak. Do you like your English professor? I'll bet you do. I know he likes you. He told me so. I'll give him to you."

Gina's jittering heart jumped to dance to this unexpected new tune. How did the girl know this, how could she read her soul like that? Yes, her English professor, he was handsome, articulate, and oh so tweedy academic. Gina definitely had a crush on this guy, but she hadn't dreamed he could be available to her. He was no boy. But she was just a freshman, wasn't he forbidden fruit? He had spoken to the girl about her?

"Yeah, you seem to like the idea. The renowned Professor Fish of English Lit.; I'll give him to you as your door prize. I have to warn you he is a bit of a pervert, but fun if you can take it. The professor is just what you need, and he's yours if you join us."

Ashley smirked, "Oh, no Gina, that simple, silent nod isn't enough. It's your turn to convince me. Convince me that you can run with us, that you have the courage we require. Convince me now because there will be no second chances. We will not countenance hesitation, regrets, or fear. Choose, and make me believe. Close your eyes and leap into the darkness now, or freeze into stone—freeze into your own tombstone."

Gina was instantly decided. She sucked a short breath and leapt into the shadows, into mystery, into her future, and into Ashley, driving her into the cool, yielding turf. Gina sucked life's sweet forbidden nectar from Ashley's open, succulent mouth. 



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 09



As I drove Gina's Jaguar to our meeting with Anna, Gina chatted on the phone with friends, whispering conspiracies. I could make out just enough to guess that the topic was me—and Anna. There was a lot of giggling. I fidgeted in my seat powerless to stop her from betraying the embarrassing details of my perverse surrender.

How much was she telling? Did she just say something about the cock cage? Gina's cast a teasing sideways grin at me. She glanced to my crotch and sneered a rumor into her phone. The odd discomfort of the cock cage and ball harness hanging in my pants twisted into acute shame. She was telling her girlfriend about that? 

I silently chastised myself, "Don't think about it. Your cock is swelling in that damm cage. Is that safe? Just drive stupid. Don't think about what she's doing to you. Don't think about her friends laughing at you. It will make it worse. My cock hurts."

If I concentrated on just driving at least my cock stayed semi-soft in its cage, and the squeeze presented no immediate danger of strangulation, but the leather testicle harness constantly pressed tightly and stretched my testicles. I worried that my balls were not getting an adequate blood supply. I fretted over the numbness of the heavy lump hanging between my legs. Now my cock throbbed, engorged at the thought of Gina betraying me to her giggling friends. Why? What had Gina done to me? I deferentially waited for a break in her phone calls and asked, "Gina, please excuse me, but is it really safe to leave my balls tied up so long?" 

"Oh, poor baby, do you think they are going fall off? That would be just too bad, wouldn't it? Then you would have to be my worthless little eunuch wouldn't you? Well, I probably should just let you worry, but don't. I know what I am doing. I could tighten it up a bit and strangle your balls, but I'm not interested in that, at least not yet. You had better behave, or I just might change my mind. On the other hand..." 

Gina laughed, "Honey, I'm not going to let you lose you balls because I like playing with them. You have no idea how much fun it is to take those big balls of yours between my teeth and watch you squirm. Besides, what use would I have for you without those cute things? I could easily find another cunt sucker, a lot of my friends insist that women are better at pussy licking anyway, but I like boys, boys with balls. To find another guy who'd let me use his balls as my private sex toy, another guy so well trained, so stoic that he'll take my ball biting as hard as I like it, well, that would take more time. I've invested a lot of effort in training you. Most guys are such wussies when it comes to their balls; they're just no fun at all. So don't worry your pretty little head. I don't intend to castrate you, if you're good, at least not yet." Gina laughed again at her equivocal reassurances. 

"When we get to the restaurant we'll meet Anna in the bar. Now rules, so listen carefully. You are not to speak until spoken to and you will keep your answers short. 'Yes Madam' or 'No Madam' will do for the most part. You will address Anna as 'Madam' until she directs you otherwise. You may still call me Gina; all that mistress or goddess stuff is so formal. But so that Anna sees you are properly subservient, I want you to bow your head and look down to the floor before and after you address me. This will take control on your part, so concentrate. Try it now. Repeat the rules."

I looked at Gina, bowed my head casting my eyes downward. I looked back to the road and recited my lesson, "I am not to speak until spoken to. I am to address Anna as Madam. I am to be brief. I am to bow to you before and after speaking." I looked to Gina. Her eyes glowed with satisfaction. I bowed my head and cast down my eyes. I was staring straight into Gina's crotch. She had raised a leg to the dashboard, opening the long slit in her leather sarong to her waist. Her hand was in her crotch, a finger in her cunt, she instructed, "Watch the road." 

My cock swelled against its cage. I tried to concentrate on the road as tears welled in my eyes—tears from the overwhelming, but denied need for sexual release; tears from fear of the dreadful Anna, fear of strangling my cock and balls, fear of where these fierce women would lead me—and tears of gratitude for Gina's cruelty. I felt drawn and quartered between terror and sexual ecstasy. The lump between my legs hung heavily. Gina masturbated as she made yet another phone call.

"Anna, hi. We will be there in a couple of minutes. Oh yeah, this is going to be fun. I can't tell you how hot I am already. Well, thanks, and you know I feel the same. You are the loveliest woman on earth. 'Mirror mirror on the wall, Anna is fairest of them all.' Oh, yeah, he is ready, nicely hobbled as you like it. He is looking good, I'm sure you will enjoy him. He is driving the car, concentrating on the road like a good chauffer. Oh, he's blushing. Can't wait to meet you, I guess. 

"You'll like this; he's all worried about his balls. He wanted to know whether they would fall off from being in the ball harness. Yeah, I know, but its fun watching him worry and squirm...Oh yeah, I know she did. She is the perfect bitch; I admire her so. She showed him to me. It was really weird, very sexy. He gave her the ultimate sacrifice, the definitive submission. But as a practical matter, beyond the symbolism, after you actually did it what good would he be? Oh yeah, of course for her it's good. She doesn't have much use for men anyway. To each her own I guess. But I enjoy men, especially the accouterments hanging between their legs. I want my slave to have all of his parts. This one has real nice parts. You'll see.

"Could you do me a favor? There's a boy on the valet station, Julio, I'd like to attend to my car. I want Eric to meet him.

"You might enjoy Julio. He's a very pretty boy, and, if you can get him to keep his cock in his pants for a couple of days, he'll give you the most amazing volume of come. I know you like that. Julio just keeps coming, gob after gob. Sweet wonderful youth.

"Oh, please do, but I drained him this just this morning, so him give a couple of days to get back to full volume. Besides, he's just a trifling confection, a cocky idiot. I haven't really worked on him. And you have this thing about men being hobbled and all. I am sure I could get the sweet young Julio chained up if you really wanted me to bother, but he will take some softening up. 

"Right now Eric's your guy. I haven't let him come in three weeks, and he's had an almost continual hardon. Come is just about dripping out of his ears. Also, I made him clean all of that thick, slippery Julio stuff out of me this afternoon, so Eric is just stuffed with man juice. Oh yeah, he ate it all up like a good boy. Now, that was fun. I told you he was ready for the next step. Ok, we're almost there, so please send Julio to the car. I think it would be a nice touch for Eric to give the boy a big tip. See you."

The phone disappeared into her purse. "Eric darling, when we pull up in front, watch the valet's eyes as he helps me out of the car. I intend to give him a show. Watch him look at my new boots, up the slit of my sexy new dress, and into the face of your ruler. Think about the power of my pussy, think about how lucky you are to be my dedicated cunt cleaner, and be grateful I didn't choose him. Be polite to the boy, and show your gratitude. Be sure to give him a nice tip." 

I pulled in front of the restaurant where a cluster of young men waited at the valet station. A handsome dark haired boy stepped over to the car to assist Gina from the car. The others gawked and sniggered; they thought they knew what was up. Gina swung one booted leg out, smiling up at the boy. Her dress slipped open to her waist exposing her bare pussy. The boy took Gina's extended hand, and, leering straight into her fully exposed, naked cunt, he stuttered, "G...Good evening Gina. S...ss...so good to see you again." Gina let him get a good long stare.

I was nauseous. The boy boy's face was a goofy caricature of disrespectful lust and twisted bewilderment. Gina was using him as a pawn in her depraved theater. The boy stupidly thought he had somehow seduced Gina, but he also comprehended just enough to be confused. He was disgusting, but I felt like filth. Did the boy know what Gina had done to me, what she had made me do after her tryst with him?

Gina rose from the car, tossed her head back, and smiled at the other valets. They were dumb struck by Gina's beauty and blatant fetish attire. There were hardons all around. "Julio, it's so nice to see you again so soon. My boyfriend will tip you." I got out of the car, pulled out my wallet, and gave Julio a five. "Don't be cheap, Eric. Now tip Julio for keeping me company this morning. He left something for you. Pay him for it. You seemed to enjoy it a lot. In fact, I'd say you ate it up." I had nothing but fifties left in my wallet. I gave Julio one. "My, my, that's generous. You must have really enjoyed Julio's gift. Julio, be a sweet boy and get the door." 

Laughing, Gina turned toward the restaurant. Julio looked at the bills I had given him as if they might be infected. Then he shrugged, stuck them in his pocket, and scurried to open the door for Gina. Julio smirked and backed away from me as I trailed Gina into the restaurant, mortified, embarrassed by the pound. Gina dismissively handed me her coat and headed off to the bar. 

I attended to the coat check and followed Gina to the far end of the darkly lit, nearly empty bar. At the last stool sat a beautiful petite red head smiling warmly as she greeted Gina. She ignored me. Only the finest of lines at the corners of her eyes betrayed that she was older than a contemporary of Gina. Otherwise, her pale, creamy skin was smooth and flawless. Her blushing wavy hair, from the very strawberry edge of the blond spectrum, fell softly about her lovely, pale shoulders. 

In sharp contrast to Gina's menacing leather ensemble Anna wore a graceful, almost prissy pastel dress. The three-quarter length pleated skirt draped softly around the barstool. Thin straps curved up from her bare back, over the naked arc of her shoulders, and down to attach to an intricate peach edging that dove deeply into open white lace lying like an icy glaze frosting snowy drifts of bulging bosom. The delicate musculature of Anna's neck rose up from the elegant contours of her shoulders. She twinkled with expensive gems. An expanse of creamy skin plunged to the see-through lace bodice and deep cleavage promised generous scoops of soft white breasts. Pink areola peeked into the lace with each swell of breathe. Anna was all sweet peaches and frosty cream, utterly feminine, with not a hard edge about her.

With a glowing smile, Gina kissed Anna's cheek. "You are always so lovely. This is Eric." Expressionless, Anna looked me up and down, evaluating. Her gaze settled on my eyes holding me in silent, rapt attention. Anna's eyes were blue, or gray, or maybe green; they almost seemed to revolve color to color. I was transfixed, mesmerized as by a snake charmer. 

At last she spoke, "Gina brags about you. She makes promises that you will be expected to fulfill. She hopes to enroll you in my male improvement program. 

"I must say right off that physically you meet the standard; we will see about the rest. The therapy is quite rigorous; you will have to be broken and remade. However, I will not take you as a patient unless you demonstrate that you have the capacity to complete the program in the manner I desire. I could remake you even if you had no aptitude or willingness to participate, but that would be an onerous process, painful for you and boring for me. Your agreement to the program is assumed, but that is not enough. This evening will be an evaluation of whether I find you sufficiently interesting. Tell me, what Gina has done to your cock and balls." 

The casual moderation of Anna's sweet voice belied the severe cruelty implicit in her interrogation. I trembled before her tranquil feminine authority. I was tongue-tied. My face flushed. I burned and I froze. I looked to Gina for help. She sat crossed legged leaning back against the bar in the stool next to Anna, the full length of her red boot rose through the long slit of her black leather skirt. An expectant smirk conveyed her instruction that I respond to Anna. "Madam, Gina has bound my cock and balls in steel and leather." How could my throat be so dry, my brow so cold, and yet I was afire with panic and damp with flop sweat? I looked down to the floor.

"Good. The purpose of those restraints is to provide physical confirmation of your status. Any man who is allowed in my intimate company is required to be restrained, his manhood hobbled, so that the proper relation between the sexes is maintained. I have no use for free men. Gina feels otherwise and I respect her choice. 

"However, you no longer have a choice in anything. You will be permanently hobbled to assure that whenever you are in the presence of any woman, whether she knows it or not, whether she is one of the cognoscenti or not, your inferior status will be physically manifest. You will be hobbled when you eat, sleep, or piss. You will be hobbled each time you think about any woman. You will wear these restraints permanently so that you will always be aware of what you are to women. No longer will you be just Gina's slave, or my slave; you will be the slave of all females. The only time your restraints will be removed will be for cleaning or for a woman's use, such as for whipping your genitalia.

"Gina tells me she has not whipped you. I don't understand that. Personally, few things give me greater pleasure than beating a man. If I accept you into my program, we start by introducing you to the pleasures of the whip. Oh, don't look so forlorn. Good things don't come easily. Yes, it will be painful, after all that is the point of whipping a man. But, if you are right for this program, you will learn to get beyond the pain. I will take you to a place of grace where the pain is joy, where subservience is dignity. 

"Oh, that pitiful look. Of course you don't understand yet. It is a good indicator that you are despondent, rather than rebellious. A propensity to wallow in your misery will stand you in good stead in my program. I do love watching men suffer. And you will suffer more than the whip; emotional pain is so much more exquisite than simple physical pain. I will give you this to brace your courage. You will eat more pussy than you could dream of. Gina tells me that you have wasted your life as a total whore, that have cheated on every woman it ever knew, but that you have come at last to appreciate the path of oral homage to women. Is that true, are you a cunt sucking whore?" 

The assault of words stopped suddenly. Those beautiful eyes, those strange circling colors, pinned me down like a specimen on an insect display.

"Speak when spoken to."

My mind was blank, and I had vertigo. I was an unarmed soldier in no-man's land. I glanced desperately to Gina. Her eyes commanded me to speak. I tried to answer Anna, but my voice failed. The bartender had just brought Gina and Anna fresh drinks. He looked at me with quizzical contempt before he turned away. How much had he heard? The bar was silent but for the clinking and crackling of swirling ice cooling drinks. The air tasted of sweet, rich bourbon. Finally, in a splintered whisper I managed, "Madam, whatever Gina says is true. I am a whore. Yes a whore, but thanks to Gina, I am a cunt sucking whore."

"It speaks, good boy. You were slow to respond, but I appreciate a man who struggles to find the right words when speaking to me. His difficulties lead me to believe he knows his proper place, that what he says is heartfelt; and that he is sincere and not just repeating formulaic blather. 

"So you admit to being a cunt sucking whore. If that is true, my program will be perfect for you, a true paradise. Do you want to go to paradise? Do you want to go to the land of cunt and honey, where the sweets between the thighs of all women are yours for the sucking? That's what you will get, all the cunt you can swallow, day after day, woman after woman, pussy after pussy, enough to drown in.

"So that's the stick and the carrot. Informed consent. Now you must convince me. Are you strong enough for my program? Should I bother? We'll see. 

"All the pussy you can eat, what a lucky guy. Yes, you will be whipped mercilessly. Yes, you will be a lowly slave, but a sex slave, not a wage slave like that dismal bartender over there who was just looking down his nose at you. You will never have to return to the work-a-day prison where the half brain dead inmates delude themselves with illusions that they are free. We will feed you, keep you, and use at our pleasure. All you have to do is obey, eat anything we stick in your face, lie under the yum yum tree, and suck pussy candy all day and all night. Lucky, lucky boy. But now I'm hungry. Gina lets eat."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 10



Cunt's cherished secretions filled Eric's mouth. He was lost to the world, his face utterly immersed in a slick pool of pussy. Eric swam in doing the tongue stroke. That he was at his place of employment, that the woman using his face was his subordinate, Maria, or that knelling on the floor of his office in the middle of the day eating pussy off his desk top might be deemed inappropriate workplace conduct by some—none of this registered in the abandoned practical quarters of poor Eric's mind. The passionate salesman was engrossed and every nerve and sinew was dedicated to the service of pussy. Dry deliberations on propriety had vanished. 

Maria was an ample girl with an ample, well-used cunt. Eric had to squeeze his head deep between her plump thighs to reach the thick, slack folds of Maria's viscous gash. His face burrowed into the warm, wet slop. With perfunctory diligence Eric's tongue fondled the piss hole, and then, with the instinct of a blind and ravenous water snake, slithered into the chasm below and gorged. Maria sprawled back across Eric's desk, thighs spread wide, bucking her hip rhythmically, pumping her pussy into Eric willing face. Ardor got the best of Maria, she squealed, her sumptuous thighs grasped Eric's head tightly, and the world disappeared. The lovers dove together through the surface of the mundane world into the watery caverns of transmogrifying, phantasmagoric, erotic rapture. Yummy, yummy.

Eric could barely hear her moans of delight or the bitching demands for more. He floated in the warm throbbing hum of heart-pounded blood rushing through Maria's fleshy thighs to the hot core of her cunt. Eric's overwhelming desire to consume, devour, and serve cunt, and a perverted compulsion to show off his eager, well-trained tongue, sucked him into her maw.

He did not hear the door open. He did not hear the gasps of the startled woman looking down on the star salesman squirming his way into Maria, exploring her sunken treasures. Only when Maria pulled back and jerked Eric's head out of her crotch did the angry voice of his boss Ashley echo down into the deep undersea cavern where Eric happily wallowed. He heard a muffled cry from some distant surface.

"Stop! What is going on here?" Ashley? 

Dazed, Eric mechanically turned to feminine command and fell to all fours. Torn from its hot obsession, Eric's face stared into cold truth—three women standing in the doorway of his office. One was aghast, one was aghast and angry, and one suppressed triumphant glee. From his knees Eric looked up at Ashley, boss Ashley, looking down on him smirking with hands on hips. Eric forlornly beseeched sympathy from his former confidant, Shyanne. There was none. Wide-eyed shock froze her hand to her mouth and stifled an appalled cry. And then there was Claudia, Ashley's newly hired General Counsel. Eric had not yet been introduced.

Eric recalled office etiquette, but could not bring himself to perform the ritual greeting, "Hi, great to meet you. It is great to have you aboard. I look forward to working with you. It will be great, just great." 

Claudia stood by Ashley's side holding a clipboard, a pen propped behind her ear. If she could have controlled her gaping mouth she might have said, "It is pleasure to meet you, Eric. I see you do admirable work here. It's going be great, just great."

The accumulated pressure of Gina's regime of orgasm denial, the daily drain of self-esteem, the constant dreaming about degrading sex, and the gorging on Maria's sweet womanly brew were too much. The dam burst. Eric's penis had its way. Eric knelt before the women, convulsively rocked his hips, and uncontrollably humiliated himself. His cock erupted and filled his pants with come until semen drooled onto the floor. 

Maria jumped off Eric's desk only to inadvertently again catch him in the headlock of her luscious thighs. She pushed Eric's head down and he dropped his face to the floor. Now Maria stood astride her fallen boss, teetering on her ultra-high heels. Eric dumbly looked up her dress. Something dripped from her pussy onto his nose. 

Panicked, Eric crawled out from beneath Maria toward the three women at the door until he bumped into the toe of a practical women's pump. Eric looked up. He was staring directly up another dress. Eric's was tongue-tied; his heart sank; his only thought—loss, loss, irretrievable loss.

Eric saw the crotch of Ashley's panty hose, then stars. She kicked him in the eye. Ashley began barking orders, "Get back, you pervert. Shyanne, Claudia, get in here and close the door. Maria, poor Maria, please come to me. I will protect you. That beast, what has he done to you? Here in my company's main office, in broad day light that animal raped you."

Like snow falling on red-hot iron, apparitions of consequences materialized with a stinking hiss in the vacuum of Eric's brain. 

Attorney Claudia interrupted, "This truly awful...but Ashley...please excuse me, but perhaps we should be cautious regarding the labeling of this vile act as rape. The word has legal meaning, which could commit us to actions we might come to rue. If we call it rape, we might be required to notify criminal authorities and that might not serve the company's interests. Don't mistake me; in a cultural context, this is plainly rape, an alpha-male imposing his sexual dominion upon an economically weaker female. However, it might be prudent to be circumspect with to regard to the semantic filters we employ and cautious with respect to considerations of publicity and politics, contracting issues, and possible legal consequences to the company. Of course, we must address this offense as if it were an offense against all women. We must show solidarity with all socio-economically disadvantaged women, especially our poor Maria, in order to maintain our credentials as progressive women who seek social justice." 

Ashley, Shyanne, and Maria looked at Claudia as if she had dropped in from Mars.

Martian Claudia wore her alien uniform—formless grey business attire, little make up, and ugly glasses. Her hair was pulled back severely affecting the look of a helmet. She wore sensible shoes. Claudia was way too young to be the General Counsel of a large company. She had been hired as a favor to a friend of Ashley's even though she had no business experience. Claudia knew everything about philosophical social theory and academic law, but nothing of the subtle ambiguities of commerce. However, Claudia was just what Ashley needed—a legal counsel utterly beholding and dependant upon her, and so someone she could control absolutely. Claudia thought she could camouflage her weaknesses and look older by adopting the cosmetic aesthetic of a filing cabinet. This came naturally to her.

"Justice demands that we discharge our duty swiftly, provide some sort of due process, and expeditiously determine a course of action. I suggest convening a discharge hearing immediately. Further study of Eric's personnel file is not necessary. I am fully acquainted with it as a result of an ongoing review being conducted regarding certain expense account matters. Ashley, perhaps you could allow me to gather some documents, and then we may convene in your office in fifteen minutes. Justice delayed is justice denied. Shyanne, would you please look to Maria's comfort and arrange for trauma counseling?"

Ashley interrupted, "No. I'll take care of Maria. I feel some personal responsibility since I assigned her to work on, I mean with, Eric. I'll take Maria to my office and comfort her. She can lie down there and recover. Shyanne, you go with Claudia to assist in preparing an immediate hearing. Let me have thirty minutes to comfort Maria. 

"Claudia, call security. The new woman-owned firm you recommended started this week. I can't imagine what they will think of the goings-on in my company. Have security take Eric to my waiting room. Under no circumstances let anyone enter my office while I calm Maria. She has suffered enough trauma. Maria, come with me. Let me hold you. Everything will be made right. Come, let's go to my office." 

Eric was bewildered, paralyzed, and his eye throbbed from Ashley's kick. He watched Maria's ample ass roll away, her high fetish heels enforcing a sexy saunter worthy of streetwalker. Ashley balanced Maria, putting her arm around her tightly corseted waist and her hand on that gorgeous excess of ass, fondling the voluptuous, undulating pulchritude. The seams up the back of Maria's stockings were still perfectly straight. The glossy polyester of her skimpy dress rode up with each step revealing the novelty garters that Eric so recently scrutinized while kneeling between Maria's thighs. "Eat me, eat me, eat me."

Eric finally spoke, "Wait, Maria, please tell them the truth. Tell them what really happened. This wasn't rape." Maria looked over her shoulder, shrugged, and threw Eric a crooked little smile as if to say, "Sorry, but as you can see, there is nothing I can do. I've got to save my own ass." 

Still on his knees, Eric reached out to Maria. Claudia stomped on his hand. "Leave her alone you beast. Haven't you done enough already? Don't even talk to her. You may say whatever you like at your hearing, but for now—Shut Up."

Shyanne bent down to help Eric up. She looked him in the eyes and softly whispered, "Oh, Eric, how could you have been so stupid." Claudia picked the phone, "This is the General Counsel. Send two guards to Eric's office immediately. I will explain when they get here. Hurry."

Claudia critically looked Eric over. He was a mess. He was drenched in sweat and his eye was blackening from Ashley's kick to his face. "You look uncomfortable. Take your jacket off." 

"No thank you."

Claudia laughed, "I didn't take you to be quite that stupid. If you do not cooperate, I will see to it that you spend the next ten to twenty years in jail for rape. Don't you get it? I'm sure you don't like taking direction from a woman, but you have no choice. You are completely at my mercy here. So when I tell you to do something, don't talk back, just do it."

Eric was warm, but he did not want to take his jacket off because his shirt was soaked in sweat and his crotch was soaked with come. His cock pressed against his pants still hard despite the disastrous interruption. He thought, "Jail. Bullshit. She asked for it. She started it." Nonetheless, he thought it best to do what Claudia demanded. He removed his jacket.

Claudia stared at the clear outline of Eric's persistent erection jutting out against the damp, spreading come stain. She admired Eric's muscular form showing through his soaking dress shirt. The odor of sex filled her head. Claudia had never smelled semen before, and she had never had a man at her mercy before. Dampness spread in her own crotch. 

Claudia was staring at Eric's crotch when the guards entered. The guards, women from the security firm Claudia found on a feminist internet site, wore blue uniforms with wanna-be-cop hats and batons in their belts. One was a six-foot woman with thick thighs, a bulging butt, and heavy breasts hung between broad shoulders. The other guard was a thin, mousy middle-aged women reeking of tobacco. They entered Eric's office and stood coolly at attention awaiting orders. Each knew instantly what was going on, if only from the smell of the closed office. "The boss girl's in heat and that one just shot his wad in his damm pants." 

Claudia breathlessly attempted to control the situation. "I don't want anything about this incident being repeated to anyone. All that occurs is confidential. Thank goodness, I am dealing with women. What we have here is yet another example the rampant domination of our culture by rapacious, unchecked masculine impulses and patriarchal values. How long must we endure repetition of this age-old narrative? Guards, you will have the opportunity of assisting us in this battle, perhaps only a small skirmish, but nonetheless a vanguard action in our struggle to repel male exploitation of women and gender non-specific persons. In solidarity together, we will cleanse the cultural milieu of this company of retrogressive influences and patriarchal dominance tropes to provide a civilizing environment wherein all can achieve their full potential as autonomous persons. The iteration, rearticulating, and convergence of these hegemonic masculine tropes are homologous to work advancing structuralist social relations and power strategies that move toward the obviation of a renewed conception of social order or inauguration of rehabilitated conceptions of hegemony." 

The guards exchanged silent furtive glances, "Crazy bitch."

Claudia prattled on, staring at Eric's crotch throughout her oration. The hotter her pussy got the more obscure and bizarre her post-modern, feminist rhetoric became.

Finally, choking on lust, she finished, "Take this individual to Ashley's waiting room. Make him sit there until further orders, do not let him out of your sight, do not let him escape the premises, and absolutely do not let him disturb Ashley." 

The guards pulled out their batons. The Amazon prodded Eric in the small of his back, shoved him out the door, and the guards escorted Eric through the open office space toward Ashley's office. Everyone had stopped pretending to work. The whole office stood by their workstations and stared. Eric's coworkers whispered and giggled at the weird procession of the office hot shot being led away through the labyrinth of cubicles to the boss's den. What the hell had happened? Eric must have flipped out. He was finally going to get his. 

The big guard thrust Eric into Ashley's waiting room. The pasty older guard pulled a chair into the middle of the room, pointed her baton, and ordered Eric to sit. They took up positions behind Eric and stood at grim attention holding their batons at the ready. Eric asked, "Could I please go to the bathroom? I need to get cleaned up."

The big guard said, "No. We was told not to let you out of our sight, and we ain't going in no men's room. You can piss your pants for all I care. You wouldn't smell no worse." 

After several minutes, odd sounds emanated from behind Ashley's door. It started as heavy breathing, then soft mewing, and morphed to panting cries just as Shyanne and Claudia arrived with a cart filled with folders and binders. "Yes, yes, oh please don't stop. Oh, harder, hard...ohhhh yeah there, yes, more, please just a little...oh I'm...coming yes, yes...yaaa." Muffled squealing warped to swearing in Spanglish—then silence.

The guards exchanged sneaky glances. The smaller guard surreptitiously ran her baton through a hole fashioned by her thumb and forefinger, and suppressed a smile. Claudia and Shyanne pretended nothing had happened. After another five minutes, Ashley's door opened. Ashley walked Maria to the exit holding her close. 

Maria's big prom hairdo had come undone. Curls and extension flopped all about her sweaty face. The seams up the back of both stockings were askew. There was a run in her left stocking. Crimson fingernail scratches streaked up the back of her leg and ducked under the disarray of her skimpy dress toward the abundance of her plump bottom. Maria's sniffling nose was red. The abused victim staggered on her high-heeled, sequined slippers averting her eyes from everyone. Ashley kissed Maria on cheek and said, "Go home now. Take as many days as you need. Just call me tomorrow and let me know how you are doing." Turning to Claudia she said, "Bring him in. Let's get this over with."

The big guard pulled Eric out of his chair and shoved him into Ashley's office. "If you did that to that poor girl you deserve whatever."

Eric was sick and beyond caring. He thought, "Just get it over with and fire me. Ashley I hate you, you prissy tight ass cunt. Keep your fucking job. Look at her; she looks like she just sucked on a lemon. What the hell was going on in here with Maria anyway? What lies was that bimbo telling this Ivy League cunt? I hate this office; all decked out like a damm museum. That painting, that 'Modern Art', what the hell is that? It makes me nauseous."

If Eric only had had the imagination and the nerve, he could have gotten sweet revenge as he stood there in the dock to be judged by Ashley. He really was nauseous, but he was too polite to puke all over the judge sitting directly in front of him.

Ashley sat calmly behind her desk, and gestured for Claudia and Shyanne to sit. Eric remained standing framed by the two guards. "Claudia, proceed."

"The purpose of this hearing is to determine the facts in the matter of the incident that has just occurred between Eric and Maria, and to determine a remedy. On the face of the matter, it appears we must decide between two possible outcomes: discharge with referral for criminal prosecution, or simple discharge for sexual harassment. Eric what is your excuse."

"This is ridiculous. I didn't do anything to that girl that she didn't ask for. Just ask her. I am sorry, it should not have happened in the office, but I did not force anything on her. I have never had to beg for sex. Besides what we did was not intercourse, not really sex, so it cannot be rape." 

Claudia asked, "And so Eric, if it was not sex, what was it?"

"Well we just...I mean what we did...well she asked me to...she requested oral sex, and I did it...because she asked. She started it. She asked for it. Besides, that's not real sex."

"So you forced her to submit to fellatio. Sorry, but the legal precedents are clear—that's rape. And that age old, threadbare excuse, 'She asked for it', won't do. What a pathetic lack of imagination. We just saw what you did to that girl, I mean woman; we saw the abrasions on her thigh. And your black eye is clear proof that Maria resisted."

"Wait a minute. Maria didn't do that. Ashley..."

Ashley slammed her fist down on her desk. "Enough. I interviewed Maria and she said she was raped. I will not force that young woman to stand before her rapist and account for her innocence. She has suffered enough. Case closed. Claudia, I am getting a headache. Proceed."

"It might seem our only option would be criminal referral. However, there are serious downsides to that, if only because of the publicity. This is a very political business and our rivals will exploit any stain on our integrity. The particulars of this incident would make us a laughing stock. Also, our access to minority and women's defense contracting set asides would be compromised if sexual harassment were found to have occurred in our workplace. Therefore, criminal referral and discharge for sexual harassment are both problematic. Furthermore, Eric has over five million dollars in his profit sharing account, not to mention other open stock options and his 401-k account. It is outrageous, perhaps criminal, what this company has been paying him. As you know, I have been examining his expense accounts and there are substantial irregularities. If we discharge Eric he will gain immediate access to his accounts, and recovery of possible overpayments would be compromised.

"Therefore, I would recommend unpaid administrative leave, pending possible discharge, with a requirement that Eric engage in treatment for his misogynist personality disorder. We would thus recast these events under a medical, rather than criminal formulation—Eric had a mental breakdown. This would provide time to recover company funds from his accounts. The disadvantage to this approach is that left to his own devices Eric would certainly continue his predatory adventures against women. What is needed is a sort of house arrest and a stringent treatment protocol.

"An additional advantage of operating within the medical category is that it provides an unfettered ability to invade Eric's privacy and to negate his autonomy. To wit—poor Eric suffered a mental breakdown, thus we would be negligent were we not to supplant the judgment of a sane person for his medically impaired decision making capacity. In this, we have finally come upon some good fortune in this otherwise sad history. I have taken the liberty of calling Eric's emergency contact. Eric signed papers ceding to her remarkable powers in the event of an emergency, and of course, this is a medical emergency. She is a young woman named Gina, and our discovery of her could not be more auspicious.




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 10



"I had a most enlightening discussion with Gina just now. Surprisingly, Gina is a thoroughly progressive woman. She fully understands Eric's regressive nature, but tolerates this shortcoming because she enjoys the psychosexual use of an unreconstructed male. I must say that Eric's primitive appeal is apparent. Eric possesses many of the attributes that our culture has set as markers of masculine attraction, that is, for those susceptible to that sort of taste. However, Gina does recognize her responsibly with regard to improving society and desires solidarity with the cause of women's progress. She recently personally undertook a corrective course with Eric. She has made some progress. Gina has been able to redirect Eric's libido to an oral rather than phallic urge. This is certainly commendable. However, considering today's event, she recognizes that professional help is required.

"I have in mind a good friend of yours Ashley, Anna. She is a world-renowned expert on gender relations. Anna has developed a revolutionary course of therapy that has accomplished miracles on retrogressive males. Therefore, if it meets with your approval Ashley, I propose we place Eric on administrative leave under Gina's guardianship. She will arrange for the therapy. 

"The alternative is jail, so a rational judgment requires that Eric to agree to this. Given the papers Eric has already signed, Gina's agreement to this arraignment will suffice until she can ultimately induce Eric to execute ironclad, final documents. It would be negligent to hear any entreaty from Eric at this time; after all, he is insane. He may not resign."

Ashley was impatient. "I agree, done. Thank you Claudia for this most thorough work. Leave me now, I have a headache."

"You are most welcome. Guards, photograph Eric for evidence of Maria's struggle to fend him off and confiscate his ID's, pass card and the keys to his company car. Take him to the loading dock and watch him until Gina picks him up. I will call Gina and tell her to pick up her trash." 

Ashley thought, "The bastard is all mine now."

Shyanne thought, "He's got five million bucks?"

The big guard thought, "That girl can just talk, talk, talk."

Claudia thought, "Oh, I want him, I want him, I want it."

The smaller guard thought, "I'd like to beat the piss out of that prick, and then fuck his brains out."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 11



Let's Eat

"Let's eat," Anna announced abruptly. "Eric, you want to eat, right? You are a hungry, hungry boy, aren't you? Surprise me, be a well-mannered boy whore, and I'll arraign that very special therapeutic diet you crave." 

All I could think about was pleasing Gina and her beautiful friend. If I were a puppy, my tail would have wagged. If I were a man, my cock would have stood at attention. But my cock was locked in its cage, an erection was impossible, and so what sort of creature had these women made of me? Oh yeah, I was Gina's obedient tongue animal. 

Anna smiled wanly. Her look said that this was too easy, just another male collapsing before her, another supplicant ardently seeking her dominion. Was there anything about this one worth a second glance?

I ached for Anna. This intense yearning to bask in her aura, to do anything she demanded, pried open and spilled something deep in my core. I unraveled, broke. My capacity to follow the routine narrative of the common place became unglued. I experienced Anna as a ravishing slow motion of revolving colors and surfaces imbued with emotive import. 

Anna slid off her barstool amid a graceful flowing and fluttering of soft pastels as her full skirt flared. As she alit, her breasts bulged against her white lace bodice and the deep fold of her cleavage swelled. Her long strawberry waves and curls bounced about her bare, elegantly sculpted shoulders and floated around her pale, flawless face like a corona spiraling around some cool and distant sun. Anna's soft yielding air, her impression of gentle sweetness, and her cerebral calm could not have been more misleading. 

Anna put a finger under my chin and brusquely forced my head side to side in a mock examination. "A pretty face, quite serviceable. Perhaps you might make the grade. But perhaps not." Anna smirked and sauntered off to the dining area. Her bewitching enchantment drifted off behind her, and my painful longing for Anna ebbed. The comforting illusion of normalcy recovered. Then I turned to Gina. 

Gina sat on her stool with legs crossed, leaning back against the bar, gloating at the submissive manners of her tongue pet. The red leather of her thigh high boot cut through the long open slit of her full-length, black leather sarong. The gash was so deep that the bare flesh of Gina's upper thigh flashed above her boot. Hidden in the crease of that white flesh, the dark triangle that held me in thrall lurked. Gina indulged her pet's lustful ogling of her crotch.

"That's right, stare at it. It's all you can think about isn't it?" Gina pulled her dress to the side and uncrossed her legs. Now I was gawking directly at her cunt. I glanced to the end of the empty bar and saw that the idle bartender was polishing glasses and studiously ignoring us. Gina hissed, "I said look at it. This is the only thing in your world. Nothing else exists for you. Now look me in the eye." Gina's eyes were the only thing that could pry my mind from her sex.

She measured me with cool approval. "Eric, I think maybe she likes you. You've been good so far. Keep it up, don't weaken, don't back down, don't put your tail between legs and retreat in fear. Cower, but stay. Concentrate—that ought to be easy because all you need to think about is cunt. This is your one chance to become something that most men don't dare dream of—a purely sexual thing, a servant of cunt. You can leave concern for the boring, mundane, and common place behind. Your role in life will be clear, simple, and most agreeable—to eat pussy and serve women."

I bowed my head before addressing Gina. "Thank you Gina, but what is this about the whip. I have given up control of my life to you. I have done everything you have demanded. It was not necessary to whip me; I obeyed. The whip, she said it with such glee. Anna frightens me."

"Good, that's the idea. Cringe like a beaten dog. We want you to live in fear, a fear that freezes volition, a fear that enthralls, and a fear so pure that any impulse to neglect your duty to womankind is extinguished. The whip will teach you to grovel at the foot of any woman, to open yourself without resistance to her gracious gifts of pain and degradation, and thus be content. You have only begun. You'll learn; just don't ask too many questions. We know best."

Gina stood down from the bar. Her height in her platform boots again surprised and intimidated me. By some inconsequential measure, I was still taller, but I felt smaller. She looked me in the eye, reached a finger under my belt, and pulled on the chain dog leash she had attached to my ball harness. Gina pulled me close and kissed me. Explosive flares of joy, gratitude, and ecstasy blew my heart apart into rapturous streams of red, white, and blue effervescence.

Gina smiled and ran her tongue over my lips. Her touch, her scent, and her beauty governed each beat of my heart, each shiver of my skin, and every quaking thought. "You are a gorgeous man, and so malleable. I love you, but don't mistake my love for fidelity or kindness. I will have other men and I will hurt you. But you could be my special man, the one I keep. I see in your eyes your cowering need for me, and my heart thrills. I am proud to share you with Anna. She seems to see promise in you. Continue to perform properly and Anna will take you on as her project and remake you into a male worthy of being my consort. I can hardly wait to enjoy the thing you will become." Gina lightly kissed me again, jerked my chain, and ordered, "Follow me to the dining room."

I dutifully followed a step behind Gina making her way toward the receptionist where Anna waited. Anna announced, "There will be the three of us. We require only two menus; we will order for the gentleman. My private table." The receptionist was very young, very pretty, and, in contrast to Anna and Gina, very conventionally dressed. She stared at me with an insolent mixture of curiosity and disgust. Gossip from the valets and the bartender had apparently had reached this innocent tart. Gina, Anna and I were the sensation of the night with the restaurant staff. The girl smiled respectfully at Anna, "Of course. Please come this way." 

The girl led us across the stylish dinning room to a raised alcove off to one side where we could view the goings on in the larger room, but which afforded some minimal privacy. Gina, in her stunning fetish uniform, and Anna all womanly beauty, drew admiring glances, lustful gawking, and envious, reproachful stares from the patrons. As the receptionist seated us, she insolently stared at my crotch. She saw the chain leash leading from my pocket into the front of my pants. She started, and looked at Anna.

"Yes darling, that's his leash. It's attached to a harness fastened to his testicles. He's the property of my good friend here, Gina. You seem surprised, perhaps intrigued. Would you like one like him? You are a lovely young thing and all sorts of men must come on to you all the time. You should consider taking these men on your own terms. That is—make them serve you. Once you realize what a beautiful woman can make men do, you wouldn't have it any other way. Eric, tell the young lady what you are."

Remembering Gina's admonition to be subservient toward all women, and any shred of dignity long blown away, I looked into the girls eyes, bowed my head, and announced, "I am Gina's cunt licking slave." My pride surprised me. Was this perverted sort of self-esteem allowed? I reveled in the disgust and desire in the girl's pretty face as she haughtily examined me from face to crotch. 

Anna took a card from her purse. "Take my card. If you are interested, call me. Perhaps we can arraign for you to use him sometime. I am always interested in young, attractive women who have the courage to rest control of their lives from men. Perhaps you can practice on him, or I have several others who would do. But now, leave us and send a server."

Staggered by the perverse scene and the disturbing possibility of an entirely new approach to her life, the receptionist stared at me as she turned to flee. She reached back to grab Anna's card and bumped into the waitress standing behind her. The server dodged the fleeing receptionist and said, "Anna please forgive her, she's new. She is sweet, pretty and dumb, the perfect receptionist. Welcome back Anna. Gina, it is pleasure to see you again also. I am delighted to serve such distinguished women." The server regarded Anna and Gina with sincere hero worship. She hugged the menus to her breast and asked, "Anna would you like to hear tonight's specials, or would you have your usual, prime rib rare as I recall?"

"Yes, Darlene, prime rib rare, well trimmed of fat, half portion, a sweet potato, and something green."

"And Gina, would you like to hear the specials, or perhaps would you like more time and a menu?"

"Slice the other half of Anna's prime rib and put it on a plate with raw ousters. I have an appetite for slippery things. Ousters, raw. Beef, bloody, no fat. No carbs, no veggies."

"And for the gentleman?" The server addressed me, but I bowed my head to avoid eye contact. Anna responded for me.

"As you can see this one is not permitted to make its own decisions. Give him a small salad to play with while Gina and I eat. I am evaluating his suitability for enrollment in my most intense program. Darlene, perhaps you could be of some assistance. Insult him. Really molest him verbally; push it. I'd like to test his response to a woman he not acquainted with." 

The server was delighted. "Look at me boy." A cruel, vengeful smile flashed in her face. This woman hated me, why? Anna had sicked an angry, frustrated bitch on me. Smoldering resentment congested her voice, but she managed a sizzling whisper through her teeth, "Well boy, so you want to become a women's meat puppet. Do you think a piece of scum like you could serve a female properly? I'll bet you're the insolent, cock sure type, a real man who won't take lip from any woman. But, now you wanna give face. You're a pathetic joke. You and all the rest like you ought to be crushed under the thumb of a woman like Anna. I don't think she shouldn't waste her time on trash like you. You don't deserve it."

I should have been ready for Anna's games, but the ferocity of this common waitress's anger stunned me. She reveled in her license to abuse me, "I know what she'll do to you if get lucky, if she takes you. The pain is real bad. I've seen her work. I've seen the likes of you under her whip—spoiled pretty-boys getting what's due.

"Look at me, scum. How much shit have you made women eat? Huh? I know your type. I know how all those simple-minded girls fall for degenerates like you, you and your pretty eyes and nice hair. Now Anna's got you. Good, because Anna's going to twist you and twist you until you're the kind of boy that suits the fancy of a real woman. Anna knows what she's doing; she knows how to whip the repulsive masculine poison out of a male. Yeah, I can see it in your eyes already; you're a cunt-licking slice of man meat, aren't you? Speak, meat puppet. Tell me exactly what you are." 

The serving girl's hissing rant heated to the snarling growl of starving carrion beast. She drew uncomfortable glances distracted from plates of epicurean delight. Was the stink of lowborn nastiness interrupting their fine meal? Snooping heads craned in vain attempts to eavesdrop on the exclusive table above in the alcove.

I knew I must behave, I must make a show of submission, but this was new to me. Upon the command of this ordinary woman, upon a common waitress's hissy fit, I was expected to humiliate myself. And here in this room filled with all the right kind of people. It was one thing to be the private plaything of sex goddesses like Anna or Gina, or even the pretty receptionist, but for this plain stranger—in public? 

In all my life, I would never have given a woman like this a second look, not that she was hideous, just plain, prosaic background. Now in her ordinary eyes I saw angry offense. I saw jealousy because I was the sex servant of the alpha females at the elite table while she merely served food. I saw hate because I was a former alpha male; the thing denied her; the thing that contemptuously ignored her all of her life. I could not humble myself for her, this plain, nothing woman. I smiled at the arrogant serving girl. She was too ordinary, too much the resentful peasant, not at all the imperious ruler, not the same rank as Gina or Anna. 

I looked to Gina for help. Her angry eyes commanded me, "Disgrace yourself before this woman now, or you will disgrace me before Anna." My heart leapt with the realization that my hesitation had left me on the brink of failure. I looked back to the server, bowed my head, and begged, "Madame, I am a slave, Gina's slave. I do anything she commands. If she allows it, I suck her pussy. If not, I am available for anything else that suits her. If you wish to use me, ask Gina, and upon her command I will let you do whatever you desire." I bowed my head and prayed that this submission would repair my failure to humble myself immediately before the common hag.

Anna said, "Darlene, we are sorry for that hesitation. This boy has much to learn. Perhaps if he's suitably trained you may redress his insolent vacillation. But thank you for your assistance in testing him. I have learned something of how far I would have to take him. Now, please, bring us a bottle of wine, something dry and white, and see to our orders quickly." 

The server left and Anna said, "Gina, don't despair. We can't expect that he enter the program without flaws. If I take him on, I can grind off the rough edges." She addressed me, "When Darlene returns make a show of respect." Then Anna and Gina began reminiscing and gossiping as if I was not there.

The server returned with the wine and poured for Gina and Anna while I worried as to how to make amends. Gina saved me. "Eric, Darlene is entitled to a meaningful apology. I think it would be appropriate for you to kiss her foot. Get down on the floor, under the table, and kiss Darlene's shoe. I am sure her feet are weary from all the running about she has to do, despite those practical shoes. The sight of a man groveling at her feet might provide some comfort. Look, her shoe has a stain. Clean it off."

Darlene gave me a cruel smile, and put her off-white canvas shoe forward so that it slipped under the tablecloth. I was mortified. How could I do this? Well, Gina demanded it. Surreptitiously, I slipped off my chair and under the table, hoping none of the other patrons would see. My cock once again swelled against its cage and my ball harness tugged in my crotch as I went under the table. The server's dirty walking shoe peeked under the tablecloth. I bent over, kissed it, and tried to suck it clean, but the stain of manual labor is indelible. She pulled the shoe back. I knelt under the table between Gina's boots and Anna elegant slippers. The voices above were muffled.

"Well he didn't get the stain off, but he did kiss my foot and somehow my aching feet feel better. Gina you have done well with this one. But that other one, Julio, the valet, he brags to everyone every time he fucks you. It's disgraceful. He's such an obnoxious young cock. I'd hoped you could train him better. You really shouldn't let him disrespect you like that. He is an offense to all women."

"Darlene, don't you dare tell me what I should or should not do. I will use the pretty, young Julio in any way I please. It is not your place to question me. I should have you whipped for this insubordination. I let you play with my slave and then you forget you place? I will not have it. 

"What's really the matter? Do you want to suck Julio's dick, but you aren't pretty enough to interest him? The poor old hag can't get fucked by the hot young stud. You want that young dick, but can't get it? Yes, Darlene, Julio's cock is thick, long, and hard as steel. Maybe I can get some for you. I think that maybe I'll have Julio fuck you in the ass. Everybody says you like that. Darlene, is that true, do you like it up the dirt hole? I am sure Julio finds you disgusting, but he'll do anything for me, even butt fucking a dreary old bitch like you. Just to show you my power, to prove that I'm in charge, I'll have him ream your flabby asshole. Then Julio can brag to everyone how he butt-fucked Darlene while she squealed like a pig. I think the staff would get a big laugh out of that." Gina spoke calmly and cheerfully as if she where discussing the desert specials. 

Anna interrupted, "Gina please stop, that's enough. Darlene, remember your place. Get our food." Anna kicked me. "Get up here; be quiet; be invisible." 

When the serving girl sullenly returned, she pushed my salad at me, leaned into my face, and, as if an angry witch cursed, "I will beat you someday. Eat dog." For the next hour, I played with my salad while Gina and Anna ate, laughed, and ignored me.

When they rose to leave, Gina kicked me, and I followed. Gina and Anna led me across the now crowded restaurant. I felt the stares of the room upon us. Those who comprehended nothing just stared at the sight of the leather clad Gina and her stunning female companion. But those who guessed the true nature of the thing being led through the room by these beautiful women, and there were a number of them including all of the help, these people stared at me, scrutinizing the abject man slave with loathing and envy.



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 12



Gina: Eng Lit 101

College life became all that Gina had dreamed after she met Ashley. Academically she shined, especially in Honors Intro. To Eng. Lit. taught by her dream man, the esteemed Professor Edward Fish. At the young age of 32, Professor Fish had attained academic celebrity. The good Professor was brilliant, charismatic, and handsome. He had been recruited by universities and pursued by woman around the world. 

Some thought his success had gone to his head, but they were mistaken. He was born with his immense conceit. Ever since the age of four when he came to the startling and deflating realization that the creatures caring for him were sentient beings in their own right, Edward had been obsessed with proving his innate superiority to everyone and everything. He knew no doubts or guilt. Edward would stop at nothing to increase his ascendancy over others and no lead over competitors was wide enough. This obsession was the secret to his success. Edward was delightfully devious, repulsively magnetic and viciously charming. Everyone professed to admire him, except a recalcitrant few of those he had humiliated or destroyed, and even these suspected that the great Professor must have been justified.

The Professor had insisted that he himself teach a class for the best of the incoming freshman, a bow to the noble aspirations of pedagogy, and a great way to met smart, barely legal chicks. Gina would moon over the esteemed Professor performing for the class, but she quickly flushed and looked down in embarrassment when his penetrating gaze fell upon her. Her pulse raced and she could not speak. Her smoldering puppy love fanned to a blaze of mortification, and her face blushed with the searing heat radiating from her throbbing heart. 

The Professor saw right through this sweet young thing and was amused and gratified by her obvious adulation. After all, why shouldn't she worship him, she was just a pretty, adolescent hick and he was the great Professor Fish, a leader of the intellectual world. Edward reveled in the entirely deserved veneration of this gorgeous young innocent. But Professor Fish did not check the record; he didn't recognize that Gina fell short of the state's regulatory limit for pussy prey at her tender age of seventeen.

Edward doled out abundant praise for Gina's first paper, an exposition on Spenser's Fairy Queen wherein Gina mourned the loss chivalric love in the modern world. She didn't believe any of it, but she thought it would please the dreamy Professor who had sung the praises of long lost chivalry in his lecture with equal insincerity. Though the Professor thought Gina's clumsy attempt at academics ridiculous, he appreciated her gorgeous ass and so he extolled her work. He called on Gina to read to the class from her paper—mistake. 

Gina turned crimson from embarrassment. The mortified girl mumbled excuses, sweated, and sunk silently into her seat. She would have sunk right though the floor if she could have. Gina was horrified that Edward had spoken directly to her and was aghast that she had been asked to stand before the class and speak. Reading from the paper should have been just fine, it was trite freshman stuff, but it was a freshman class. Gina's anxiety attack was not just fine. The weird little girl had just shown everyone how weird she really was. 

From Edward's perspective Gina's weirdness was better than fine; he liked his women neurotic and vulnerable. Unfortunately, Gina didn't show up at the next class, didn't show up when Edward invited her meet him at his office, and when she finally did come back to class, she sat silently in the back row trying to hide. For Edward the problem with all this was that he could hardly see Gina's beautiful face back there, and he got only the briefest glimpse of her perfect little ass when she got up to leave. 

But Edward let her be; he would have her after all. He mentioned the shy beauty to his best fuck buddy, Ashley. She laughed, "I'm two steps ahead of you, slow poke. The babe is for your ass too." Then Ashley promised to 'give' Gina to Edward when the time was right.

Every moment Gina was not in class or studying, she tried to be with Ashley. Ashley was everything Gina wanted to be—self-confident, in control, and free. The happy girls would walk across the campus closely huddled, smiling and chatting as if the rest of world did not exist. They didn't hold hands, kiss, or overtly display romantic behavior, but the way they looked at each other set tongues wagging, rumors slithering, and jokes giggling. 

Gina took to wearing jeans and a tee shirt everyday just like Ashley. She used her entire semester's clothing budget to buy a leather jacket and biker boots. Gina borrowed Ashley's mannerisms, prejudices, loves and hates. She tried to mimic Ashley's accent, an artificial blend of refined upper class east and antique, imagined Greenwich Village Okie. Gina soon gave that up because speaking Okie came too naturally. She heard in herself the hated yokels from back home. 

Within the shelter of Ashley's lively brown eyes, protected by Ashley's acceptance, Gina at last discovered the exceptional world she dreamed of. Ashley, like Gina, was different from the others, but superior like Gina would prove herself to be. She longed to kiss Ashley again like that night on the dorm steps, but didn't. It wasn't lust; it was more like wanting to lick a lollipop. 

Gina liked boys and was mildly repelled at the thought of lesbian sex. But Ashley was kind of like a boy, only prettier. Ashley in her leather jacket and biker boots was a softer, safer, smarter version of the motorcycle thugs with whom Gina had initiated her sex life. But after that first kiss, nothing so forbidden happened for weeks. Gina began to believe the kiss had really just been a sort of initiation dare, and that her love for Ashley was platonic and normal, not a lesbian perversion. 

Gina was not clear on where Ashley stood on any of this, and she was too timid to ask. One day Ashley would imply that she was bisexual and the next she bragged that she was militantly heterosexual. Gina thought she had misunderstood, but the reality was that Ashley herself changed from one firm position on anything and everything to the opposite like a shifting breeze.

Meanwhile Gina's fantasy world was all about boys, lots of them, two, three and more at a time. However, Gina's make-believe castles in the sky and dungeons under the earth were increasingly unsatisfying. Gina desperately wanted an actual sex life. She was distressed that she may have fallen in love, if not lust, with the boyish, mercurial Ashley. Gina was torn with anxiety over her perverse secret lust for gang banging hoodlum boys, her pathetic longing for her English Professor, and at her aching desire to be with, to look at, to touch, and to smell her best, her only, friend. 

Gina wanted a boyfriend to prove she was normal and so Ashley set her up with a series of guys. It didn't work. None of them could measure up to the dreamy Professor Fish or the high voltage Ashley. And as much as the guys wanted the stunning beauty, none of them could get more than a few words out of her. The guys thought that either she was stuck up, or they were not up to the standards of this model gorgeous girl. There were no second dates.

Ashley told Gina she would give the Professor to her. "Yeah, I've known him for a couple of years. Anna introduced us. I love Anna; she's the reason I came to this school, this parochial patch of pouting pussies and prudish pricks. That and the fact that great-great-grandpapa founded the place. Anna is an Anthropology Professor. She's engaged to the dashing Edward. He can be a lot of fun; do want me to give him to you?"

If Edward was engaged, how could Ashley 'give' him to Gina? And clearly, Ashley had had an affair with Edward. Was that before the engagement? Was it still going on? If Ashley loved this Anna so much, why...? Gina had many questions she did not ask because she did not want to look provincial to Ashley the hipster. Gina completely trusted her friend, her mentor and her guiding light. Ashley professed maniacal honesty. What Gina failed to comprehend was that while Ashley was dedicated to Truth, the whole truth being something else entirely. Ashley was a complicated girl.

Every time Gina brought Edward up, Ashley would say something vague about introductions, and then sidetrack Gina with some wonderful story about something remarkable Ashley had done with the great Professor. "I heard he was interviewing in Paris for a summer gig at the Sorbonne, and so I invited Edward up to my Daddy's place up in St. Moritz..." But Gina's meeting with the great Professor kept being put off, and she was way too shy to do anything without Ashley's help. Every personal detail Gina knew about the exalted man she learned through Ashley. It was as if she could only meet him in the secret garden of Ashley's stories.

On the day the autumn rains came, Gina discovered jealousy. A thunderous front rolled in from the west to sweep summer away, and all sensible citizens scattered for cover. Nevertheless, Ashley and Gina strode across the campus into the wind as if nothing was happening around them. 

As prelude to a vicious joke about frat boys, Ashley bragged that she had fucked a particularly popular jock the night before. Ashley had set Gina up with this guy, and Gina thought him especially vacuous. Worse, he had not concealed his contempt for her shyness. Ashley fucked him? Gina was hurt; an empty cavern opened in her heart. The hurt was not because had Ashley fucked a guy, but because Ashley had fucked that specific guy. Gina loved most of Ashley's guy fucking stories. That was really the extent of her sex life besides obsessive masturbating all night in her dorm cot. But Gina knew this particular guy and hated him; it was too close. Ashley could have been with her, but, no, she fucked that stupid boy instead. Gina thought, "You fucked that prick instead of being with me? I want you to myself; can't you see that? Don't you care?" 

The electrified air of the approaching storm ignited Ashley, and she grabbed Gina's hand dragging her into tumult. Lightening flashed in the darkening autumn sky towering over the girls rushing across the quadrangle, and winter's overture commenced with a cold deluge. Lightening glinted in Ashley's eyes as Gina's heart broke. Jealousy thundered and envy rained.

Gina didn't hear a word of the frat joke; she was too angry and confused. She didn't notice the rain. How could Ashley be so indifferent to her feelings? Ashley just casually and carelessly tossed off the fact that she was fucking that boy. Ashley spent time with him, fucked him, while Gina was studying. If Ashley had just asked, Gina would have made time to be with her. Why didn't Ashley ask? Why didn't she even mention she wanted to fuck that asshole, that prick that had made Gina feel so small? Gina was her friend, wasn't she? 

"Of course," Gina thought, "She doesn't want me because I don't have a dick. It is over now. Ashley will go off whoring with the boys. She will leave me and I'll go back to being a gawky, lonely dork. Ashley was my only friend; I'm lost. You bitch, how could you?" But what could Gina do about it? She really didn't have a dick.

Ashley pulled Gina under her arm and strode across the campus, their heads bent together against the autumnal torrent. Rivulets pored down from their soaking hair into their faces, down the slick wet leather of their jackets, drenching their jeans and filling their sodden boots. Ashley insisted that rain was the natural world's cleansing remedy against the depredations of civilization. They were free—no hiding under umbrellas, no cowering under shelter for them, not for the liberated children of nature. The water would not harm their jackets; it would season the leather just as the deluge was seasoning their souls. Everyone else saw two goofy girls without the sense to come in out of the rain. Ashley saw free spirits nourished by nature's grace.

The storm enflamed Ashley's mania. Ashley gave a war whoop and began dancing like Peter Pan's wild Indian maiden. She opened her jacket, through her head back and joyfully screamed up into the cascade, into the wet, leaden sky. Ashley laughed and roared. Long raindrops streaked down from the heavens racing straight to Ashley's open mouth. Her arms spread wide; her jacket slipped away. Her lithe torso arched under the sky, water poured off her tee shirt, and Ashley's thick nipples swelled atop her petite young breasts stiffening in the cold rain. Gina stood silent; the torrent camouflaged her angry, irrational tears. Finally, Gina screamed, "Ashley how could you. How could you fuck that boy? What about me? Why not love me?"

Ashley's manic reverie skipped a beat, but just a beat. Ashley laughed, "How could I fuck him? By throwing him down on his back, sliding his cock inside, and riding him like a bucking bronco, that's how. Don't you even know how you fuck a frat boy? And what about you? Yeah, what about you? You don't have a cock, so I guess you can't be my bucking bronco. But your can serve, maybe you can be my snake. You want to slither up between my legs and be my sucking snake, my crazy, scaredy, girly snake?" 

Ashley grabbed Gina by her jacket collar and dragged her into an alley, past some dumpsters, and roughly pushed her up against the brick wall of the Life Sciences Building. "What's the matter girly, did you think you could own me? I don't think so. You are such a baby, but such a beautiful baby." Gina was sobbing in terror.

Ashley slapped Gina, stroked her stinging face gently, and then clutched her roughly by the throat. Above the passionate girls the storm flashed, thunder echoed through the alley and the wind blew whirlwinds of garbage. Ashley cradled Gina as her mood violently rocked between anger and love. The bough broke, and Ashley pushed Gina to her knees behind the dumpster forcing her face into the soaking crotch of her jeans.

"The only thing babies are good for is sucking. So get down baby and suck. Go ahead. Cry baby cry, and suck the thunder juice, the lightening liquor. Take your absolution." Lightening and thunder exploded as one, and Gina knelt in a whirlpool of sopping gobs of garbage. Ashley ground her crotch into Gina's face, driving the back of Gina's head into the crumbling brick wall of the antiquated hall of Life Sciences. Gina opened her mouth, took the fabric of Ashley's jeans into her mouth, and sucked rain, sweat, and Ashley's incandescence. 

The flood ebbed, and Ashley calmed. She helped the terror-struck Gina to her feet, and lightly kissed her. "I am your friend, but don't try to control me with guilt trips. If I want cock, I'll take it. I'll take anything I want. You don't even know what you want, but I know what you need—cock, man cock. Boys won't do; you need a man. It is time for you to meet the Professor. Even the fragile, frightened Gina can figure out how to get cock from the eminent Professor Fish, horny bastard that he is." 

Ashley pulled out her phone. "Hey, it's Ashley. I am coming over there now. ...I don't care who you are supposed to be meeting. ...Really that's such a pity, and I was bringing that thing you have been begging for, but if discussing fucking Milton with some fucking morticians is more urgent, if after, what 300 fucking years, there's still more shit to be said.... That's right. I have it here with me and it is ready, steaming hot. ...Oh, so now you want to see me, now you have the time, what happened to Milton? You are such a shit. See you in five minutes, asshole."

All the while Ashley was rushing purposefully toward University Center, Gina in tow. Ashley broke into a run dragging her jacket along through the puddles with one hand and Gina with the other. The English Department lay deep in the bowels of University Center, a huge century's old accretion of bricks and bequests. Edward Fish sat at the center of the Department in his sumptuous book lined office in a chair endowed with Ashley's family money, waiting for the sweets his dear Ashley had promised. 

Gina gripped Ashley's hand and hurried after her, pleading, "Ashley, please, I'm a mess. I am soaking wet, there's garbage stuck in my hair. Please at least let me dry off. I can't meet him looking like this."

Ashley looked back at Gina and laughed. "No, and stop being such a chicken shit. Its now or forget it. This will be fun, lighten up. That horny fuck has been begging to get into your pants since he first laid eyes on you. Besides, don't you get it? Gina, you are gorgeous. There is not a cosmetic trick that could make you look better, not even drying your hair. You have never been more sexy, all wet and wild. The only thing that could help is a smile. There, that's it. Wow, right now, right here next to me, the most beautiful woman who has ever breathed earthly air. But remember, I'm warning you, this guy's a pervert, a real power tripper, so be careful."

Gina and Ashley rushed right past security and up the stairs. The guard called out, "Wait, young ladies, you must sign in. What's your business?"

Ashley cried out down the stairs, "Fish, we're in the fish business."

At the English Department desk the receptionist said, "Ashley would you please, stop doing that. Please, just sign in; have pity. Oh, go on. Lord knows I can't stop you."

Ashley smiled as she dragged Gina down the hall toward the lair of the renowned Professor of English and Comparative Literature. Without a knock or warning Ashley threw open the door and shoved Gina at Dr. Fish. Then she stepped back to watch. Gina stood before the great Professor slack jawed and trembling from fear and chill. Gina was drenched; her clothes hung wet and heavy, and thick ropes of hair streamed all about her slick face. 

The handsome Professor was warm and comfortable ensconced behind his desk, immaculate in his tweed. He sat contentedly with an ancient book resting in his hands. He looked up at the disturbance in his doorway. He had been expecting the pretty, shy, Midwestern schoolgirl who sat at the back of his class, an easy treat. What stood before him was something entirely different. He saw a wild, elemental spirit from the barbarian lands beyond the heavily defended borders of civilization's empire. He sensed an ambush, but it was too late. With one look, he was taken captive. For perhaps the first time in his life, Edward Fish could not speak. Tongue-tied, Edward stared in wonder at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 13



Anna's Humble Home

Anna and Gina chatted away ignoring me as I followed a respectful three paces behind them walking out of the restaurant. I fetched coats at the door. The coat-check girl, a kitschy tart who habitually flirted for tips, pointedly eyed (sparkly purple eye shadow) my crotch as I handed her the ticket. With a sniggering grin (glossy scarlet lipstick), she shoved Gina's leather and Anna's fur across the counter. The tasteless slut (flashy glass rings on every finger) knew my tawdry secret. She knew the dirty thing Gina and Anna had made of me, and she needed to rub it in. "A leash on your balls? Nice."

Disgrace at the hands of this nothing girl ambushed me, and I forgot to tip her. My conspicuous embarrassment wasn't humiliation enough to satisfy her. As I turned to assist Gina and Anna in dressing for the autumn chill, the coat-check girl gloated, "The receptionist told me all about you. All about how you let your girl friend tie up your balls. The valet Julio told an interesting story too. What a wimp. Where's my tip, cunt sucker?" 

She may as well have kicked me in the balls. The repeated assaults on my self-respect had worn me down to the point of collapse. I fought my tears only because I didn't want to embarrass Gina. Indignity had unmanned me, and I hung my head in shame. I could even move to tip the girl. 

Gina overheard, and my love rescued me. She stepped up to the girl, tipped her and said, "Yes he is a wimp, my wimp, and a dutiful pussy licking whore of a boy. I'll bet your man isn't nearly as interesting, is he? Skank."

I reveled in this trivial triumph over the coat-check bitch and again experienced an absurd bloom of pride at being the possession of such regal women as Gina and Anna. Out at the valet station, I was happy to be displayed before the philistines as the slave of these remarkable women. The cocky boys leered as the sex goddesses approached with their slave in tow. The polite, well-heeled patrons awaiting their cars exhibited decorous restraint. They didn't drool.

We got the kind attention reserved for celebrities. Anna was dressed conventionally enough to draw attention only for her radiant beauty, and I might not have drawn any particular notice had not rumors of my slave status spread throughout the restaurant staff. The lump of my cock and ball restraints was not obvious under my sport jacket. But Gina's leather ensemble was a blatant show to even the most obtuse that she was a dominatrix of power, and her haughty bearing toward me spotlighted exactly what I was. Like the popping flashes of paparazzi, lascivious images lit up heads all around. I walked the carpet. 

Julio elbowed his way to the front. "May I help you ladies?"

Contempt infused Gina's command. "Julio, be a dear and deliver my car to me tomorrow morning. We will be taking Anna's car now. You met Eric earlier. You will find me at his condominium tomorrow morning." Gina then directed Julio on getting to my place. Julio had carefully avoided my existence. He was befuddled and repelled by me, but after being instructed to deliver Gina's car to my door, he glanced at me with quizzical contempt. 

Gina continued, "Julio, Darlene tells me you have been quite indiscrete about our relations. Is that so? Didn't anyone ever tell you it is impolite to kiss and tell? It's not that I really mind your friends imagining that I am available to fuck. I like hot young boys getting all the hotter thinking of me. Look at them; they're almost drooling on their shoes. I might find a use for a couple of those young hard-bodies. 

"But Julio, if you like getting pussy from me you will have to learn to be more discrete. It is a matter of respecting women generally. Personally, I enjoy publicly performing the whore, but a whore by choice. A whore who will tell the world in her own way exactly what sort whore she is. That is my privilege. I will announce who and what I am in precisely the manner I choose. It's not your place to interfere or to talk about me behind my back. 

"So Julio, when you deliver my car tomorrow morning, has the doorman announce your presence. Be there at ten a.m. sharp. If I'm in the mood, I might invite you up. I'll give you an etiquette lesson. Would like an etiquette lesson?"

Julio clearly didn't understand what was implied; he didn't even seem to know what the word etiquette meant. He just gave Gina a stupid grin and said, "Yeah, tomorrow morning, ten a.m. sharp. A lesson. His place." 

Julio peeked sidelong at me with confused scorn. I returned his glance with a casual, even superior, nod. I hated this boy, this dumb cock that my Gina was playing with, but I would not let on that any of it mattered to me. Gina would give him an etiquette lesson. I knew what that meant even if he did not. Hurt him Gina. That hope gave some consolation for my public humiliation at the hands of these sadistic women. But what was I to do when the doorman called to say Gina's car had arrived? Gina's boy lover backed away from me as if I were infected. 

"Get Anna's car Julio." Gina dismissed Julio and turned toward me gleaming with a mocking, satisfied grin. I hopelessly looked to Anna as if for help. Anna laughed, "Eric, that doleful look does become you. Did I hear right? Did Gina just invite that sumptuous boy up for a fuck in your bed? And there you stood with nothing to say about it. You just wear that sad sack look while Gina, the woman you love, invites herself to strange cock right in front of you, in front of me, and in front of all these people. In your own bed? What kind of man are you? But it's really quite obvious. You are a weak, cunt licking cuckold—the ideal male." 

Anna took Gina by the hand and whispered, "Gina, you are the perfect bitch. And your slave restores my faith in men." Anna touched my cheek and purred in my face, "Poor Eric, not only does your love cheat on you with strangers, she rubs your nose in it, and you passively accept it. Delicious." 

Gina had just openly invited her young lover for a fuck in my bed. The insult cut and my heart throbbed with jealousy, but I could not protest. I understood Gina was broadcasting this show of abuse for Anna's benefit, and I must play along. Gina intended to demonstrate to Anna both my utter submission and her complete authority over me, including public humiliation and open, unrestricted cuckolding. To gain admission to Anna's tutelage, I was expected to accept meekly any malicious nastiness these women could dream up to amuse themselves. 

I had gone so far down this path I could no longer guess the direction back. Here I stood under the control of two gorgeous women, under the gawking stares of a group of horny valets and scornful bourgeois, with my cock encased in a steel cage, my balls hung in a harness, and a dog leash attached between my legs. Who was I to protest anything? If my mistress wanted to use my bed to fuck someone else, that was her prerogative. Yes Gina, take him in my bed; may I be of any further service? 

I desperately clung to my pathetic sense of pride at being Gina's trifling plaything, but pain gnawed insistently at my heart. Jealousy and a desperate fear of losing Gina seethed. Gina could and would have any man she fancied, and if she preferred another, I was lost. I couldn't do anything about it. And I had let Gina make this thing of me. 

Still the simplicity of my circumstance was oddly liberating—Gina was utterly free, I was utterly enslaved. I could happily wallow in my misery because there was no point in self-defense. It was not my place to make the slightest demand upon her time or fidelity; my role was to suffer and accept. And so I endured the hurt in my heart, and savored the pleasure/pain of that ache. Under the wicked glare of my cruel lover, all powers of self-determination wilted. 

Gina smiled, "You don't have a problem with my inviting Julio up to the condo, do you honey? You do think that cocky jerk needs a lesson, right? And if I want to do it in your bed, that's ok, right? You know I am just the woman to set him straight on the proper relation of men to women. Don't worry; I won't make you watch. By tomorrow morning either Anna will have accepted you, taken custody of you, and started your treatment, or, and I hope this does not happen, you will have failed to make the grade, and you will never see me again. Don't return to the condominium, I won't let you in."

Never see Gina again? Devastation. Living without her would be worse than any other pain she could inflict. I could not live in that black and white world now that Gina had lit my life with the dazzling colors of her world. I could not see without her light; I could not feel without her malice. My life would be colorless, tasteless, and breathless—food would not nourish; air would not sustain; music would not sing. No humiliation could be worse than a void life empty of Gina. 

I begged, "Gina, I am yours completely. Of course, take the boy if it pleases you. Take him in my bed. Hurt him if it pleases you. Please, stain my bed with his blood. But please, don't throw me away. Use me as you will. I will be faithful." And then, right there on the sidewalk in front of the busy restaurant as patrons came in and out staring at the two dazzling women and their obedient supplicant, I bowed my head in open capitulation to my goddess. 

Gina stood tall in her shinning leather, tall in her triumph. Pride, thick with satisfaction exulted, "I will use you Eric, and as long as you amuse me, I will not leave you. So far, I'm amused." 

Anna, sensing the reproachful stares of a conventional couple just arrived for dinner, briefly ran her finger under my chin. Then she took Gina by her slender waist and warmly kissed her on the mouth. The couple's shock at this calculated display of perversity chilled me. I was utterly lost and vulnerable, so stranded in Gina's world there could be no way back. The air was cold, the sidewalk hard and barren. The restaurant's neon lights cast a harsh and garish glare on my darkening world. I stood displayed to the world as a retched slave. 

Julio delivered Anna's car. In contrast to Gina's slick sporty Jaguar, it was a large custom-built limousine, black with opaque windows, and the perfect trinket for a global financier, or a party barge for an international drug dealer, not the wheels of a social worker, not a couples-counselor. Anna was obviously very rich. If she really did work as a couples counselor, it was evidently just for the perverse thrill of fucking up men's lives. 

"Eric darling, you drive. Anna and I would like some time together in the back. So keep your eyes on the road and don't spy on us. And don't tip that prick." Gina gave me Anna's address as if she were addressing a cabbie. I opened the back door for the ladies, and the women disappeared into the dark warmth of the leather-scented cocoon. As I shut the door, Gina and Anna were locked in a passionate embrace. 

As instructed, I kept my eyes on the road and drove. There was, however, no need to spy; it was clear what was going on. It started with a rustling of clothes and heavy breathing, then passionate moans, and finally Anna whispered, "Gina darling, go down now. It's all wet and soupy. Drink. Careful, I love this dress; don't let it get stained. Oh, Gina you are the very best. I had forgotten how good. Yes, my sweet little pet, yes, drive that wicked tongue in there. Oh, wicked, wicked girl." 

Anna slung a leg over the front seat. Her foot was on my neck. The smell of Gina, the smell of leather, and all the haunting odors of ardor filled the cabin of the limo. I struggled to concentrate on driving. Breathless whispers and gasping moans melted into a simmering stew. Soft squeals bubbled into feverous groans, to boiling obscenities, to searing weeping—then climax. The ferment cooled to satisfied silence. All the while, I drove on.

We arrived at Anna's high-rise and the doorwoman escorted us to a private elevator and dealt with the car. The elevator door closed, Anna punched in a security code, and we flew to the top where we entered directly into Anna's home. I lifted Anna's fur from her shoulders. It wasn't mink. What exotic creature had been sacrificed to lie upon the shoulders of this incomparable Goddess? 

As I stepped into the envelope of Anna's proximate intimacy, into her air, an extraordinary thrill ran through me. What was it about her scent? A strange, overpowering need, something like lust, but much finer, gripped me. I was dizzy, my cock swelled in its cage, and my eyes welled with tears. My reaction was visceral, emotional, and profound.

Gina patiently stood by as I ministered to Anna. Did I sense a hint of jealousy? I staggered as I hung Anna's fur. Then I attended to Gina. 

She wore a long, soft leather coat over her threatening leather costume. Now I luxuriated within the radiant warmth of Gina's personal space. Gina's height in her red platform boots was still unfamiliar. I surreptitiously fondled the slick, velvety leather. I bowed, bent to one knee, kissed the hem of her full-length black leather skirt, and, leaning to the floor, kissed the tip of her blood red boot. I intended this gesture to say, "Do not let a wisp of jealousy cloud your mind my darling. I belong entirely to you." Gina's familiar scent cleared my head of Anna. My cock throbbed against the steel bars entrapping it. 

"He's so sweet." Anna approved.

Anna dwelled high above the city in a spacious penthouse occupying a full floor encircled by ceiling to floor glass glowing with the light of the city night. Anna flew high above it all. Modern art and primitive artifacts filled her home, high art sculptures and paintings, and savage masks and totems—the futile fumbling of archaic people for magic. Even Anna's furniture was more art than functional commodity. "Welcome to my humble home Eric. There is wine in the cooler behind the bar. Fetch us some Champagne. None for you.

"Do you like my art collection? Come look at this one. It is my favorite."

The women ignored me as I handed them their Champagne. They were admiring and discussing a large canvas that filled one inner wall. I could not make any sense or it; it seemed a hodgepodge of neon colors—blood red, cobalt blue, and various blends of deep sea green. It reminded me of the art in Ashley's office, the art I stared at in silence incomprehension as the nasty bitch destroyed my long gone life. Abstract art had always made me somewhat nauseous. I could not understand what anyone saw in it. 

Anna said, "Eric, can you make out the significance? You seem lost; let me help. What you are looking at is an example of what art critics call neo-cubist eroticism. It is quite the rage in Europe just now. Wealthy people are turning to it because, while they are often horny bitches with sex-obsessed mates, they would be horrified by overt pornography. Their great grandparents proudly displayed huge pictures of naked nymphs cavorting in the woods. However, it was not considered erotic; the intellectual fig leaf of 'classicism' covered that pornographic stuff.

"Today, that deception no longer works, the naked pink bodies just make people giggle, but the yearning for obscenity by the obscenely rich persists. But how can these fine people display the stuff on the walls of their foyers and dinning rooms? In the mid-twentieth century culture of artsy lefties, rebellious sexuality was absolutely trendy, but that is passé now. What excuse can we use to put pornography on our walls today? Well, we reprise the twentieth century cubists. These guys made what was sometimes called abstract art, but it was not abstract in the sense that it represented abstractions, it was real stuff represented at a remove—photographs broken into pieces and rearranged. These puzzles could read by the cognoscenti; the peasants were simply perplexed. The best of them was Picasso, Pablo the Pervert. Much of his best stuff was crypto-pornography. Sadly, even the artsy leftists would not admit that they loved the pornographic; they hid behind the intellectual fig leaf of 'intellectualism'. 

"The picture you are looking at is pornography, jumbled but accessible with a little effort. See this line; it is a woman's leg. Follow it up to her crotch. That is a tongue. Follow the line of the tongue. There is her slave boy. His arms are bound; his balls hung by this rope. There is a lot there. I looked at this work for months and still there was more to learn—layers of images, layers of meanings, layers of sensations. The artist is a great genius."

Out of jumble of colors, the images Anna described coalesced. As if from a crystal ball visions emerged, apparitions of violent sex, images of woman whipping men, defiling men, destroying men—revelations of my ruin. It was intense, beautiful, and frightening. I had no idea art could mesmerize like this. 

As if directly from painting, Gina spoke. "Eric, you used to constantly pester me about what I did for a living. This is it; I paint. Do understand now why I wouldn't tell you? If I had said I am a painter, you could not have understood. But now I can see in your face a dawning understanding of what I do. This canvas is mine. But all great artists must work in more than one medium. My current effort is in performance art. I will create in life an erotic paradigm for the world to emulate. 

"You, Eric, will be my vehicle. From now on, you will have an objective purpose. Any pathetic, subjective, human purpose you imagined for yourself is hereby extinguished. You will become Art, my work. That means you will become a what, not a who. Perhaps this will console you—though your existence as a human will be subsumed into 'Art', you will become eternal, the Art of a great artist, me. Perhaps art historians will discuss you in dusty classrooms in the distant future. He was Eric, the one whose being was sacrificed to Art. The one who enabled Art to merge with biology through his performance, a skin sack filled with bone, blood and cellular goo, become platonic ideal." 

I didn't understand any of this. Art, it was just another form of insanity. But, the astonishing canvas before me seemed to be alive. It was a 'what' becoming a 'who'. I felt the painting sucking me in. The same thrill ran through me as when I breathed Anna's scent. I tore my gaze from the canvas and turned toward Gina and Anna. The two beautiful goddesses stood holding their wine glasses, smiling, appraising me as if I were an object they would hang on a wall.

Finally Anna spoke, "Eric, be thankful Gina is not a composer of medieval Church music. Those good Christians turned boys into their instruments, into castrati. We are not that nasty, are we? You have done well. It could be that I will take you on as my patient, although it is evident that you will require significant modification to serve fully our purpose. You seem to have accepted your status as a slave, but you still present certain problems. The dissolute life you have lived has allowed your pride to grow to an obscene degree, and you don't seem to possess any innate respect for woman. But the pride can be beaten out of you. If I force you to exhibit reverence to a wide variety of women, and deny you any space for personal choice, I believe I can create within you an instinct to respect.

"Remove your clothing and come to the sitting area."

I undressed while the woman walked off to the other side of the huge room in the sky. I folded my clothes and carefully put them aside. The room was cold. I took a breath and sucked in my waist, the better to pose for the women, to present for the art critics. My testicle leash tinkled on the hardwood floor as I approached my goddesses. Anna and Gina sat cross-legged on a luxurious sitting assembly. They smiled and sipped their Champagne. I stood with my head bowed. Anna spoke.




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 13



"You have a nice body. Your skin is smooth. It will take marks well, but since your skin it dark, it probably will not hold burses long. It will be necessary to beat you often. Turn and let me see your bottom. It's well muscled, but we can do better. I'll send you to a trainer. She can whip you into shape. Gina, tie his arms behind his back at the elbows to enforce a pleasing pose. Place him in the window.

Gina roughly strapped my arms behind my back, took my ball leash, and led me to a huge widow overlooking the city. She fondled my ass, kicked my legs apart, and then shoved me to the rim of the high-rise cliff. She left me alone, naked and bound, displayed in open sight atop Anna's tower in the glowing light of the city night, but so high above, none but my rulers could see me. Behind I felt the eyes of the women judging me. Within I struggled for balance against vertigo. Before me, over the edge, the world loomed.

Below the metropolis writhed, sparkling in the night like a living magic carpet spun from diamonds. Seen from high above, the city was a wondrous contraption woven of streets, structures, and the lives of insignificant workers. By day, people would look like ants crawling about. In the night, nothing human was visible, only the giant mechanism they had constructed, a metropolis, half machine and half organic, stirring with the scurrying of cars and planes and flashing with incandescent exhortations to buy. In the black and light, nothing truly human, no mere mortal dream or hope, could be seen. Only the giant machine-beast glowed upon the earth, emerging from the primate economy, budding from the urge of commerce, and progressing toward its own unfathomable purpose.



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 14



Ashley's inquisition was complete; Eric was condemned.

"Yes, mam." Upon Claudia's command, the big female security guard grabbed Eric by the back of his collar and jerked him away from Ashley's desk. She tripped him, he fell, and his ass hit flat on the floor. An electric jolt shot up Eric's spine; the acrid aura of nosebleed clogged his sinuses; he saw stars. The women standing over the fallen sales star did not actually laugh, more tittered.

As if spitting on the breathless ex-salesmen, Claudia snarled, "Haul him away, frisk him, and photograph him. That black eye is our evidence that he raped Maria. Strip him of any company property, and then take him to shipping and receiving where his guardian will pick up her trash. Don't let this waste out of your sight until she removes it."

The mousy older guard stuck her baton under Eric's chin and squeaked with thin malice, "Get up asshole. Don't make us work so damn hard. Don't piss me off." Eric felt the big guard's huge breasts bump the back of his head as she grabbed him by the scruff of his neck to lift him off the floor. "This pipsqueak ain't shit, just a stinking bag of garbage."

Eric stammered, "Wait a minute, this isn't fair. It's not right. I didn't sign any papers to let you do this. You can't..."

Ashley banged her hand on her desk, "Stop. Eric, I wouldn't want you to think you are being treated unfairly, but the papers are here on my desk...signed, sealed, delivered. Right Shyanne? You signed as witness. Did Eric designate Gina as the person to be notified in case of emergency?"

Shyanne bit her lip and fought back tears. "Eric, you signed those papers. I asked you to be careful, but you just ignored me. But it was just a notification in case of emergency. I didn't think it could be used like this."

Ashley gloated, "See Eric, you signed the papers, and this is an emergency. You've gone nuts, right? You also signed this paper. It's our Domestic Partners Equity Initiative Agreement. It says your girl friend Gina has all of the benefits and legal powers of a spouse, and that if you are unable to make your own decisions, she may make them for you.

"Guards, the gentleman is ill; you heard what he just admitted. He forced his sweet defenseless secretary, the oh so young and blameless Maria, to submit to the perversion of cunnilingus right here in our business office." Ashley ran her tongue over her lips and savored the lingering taste of Maria.

"This poor boy clearly doesn't have his wits about him, so do not listen to any of his mad ranting. Look at the glaze in his eyes; it's obvious he's gone mad. It's all very sad. His mind is feeble so be as gentle as possible, poor thing. But of course, he could become physically dangerous, so you are authorized to use whatever force is necessary to subdue this madman. Goodbye, Eric. Get well soon." Ashley held up the damning papers and insultingly waved goodbye to Eric. 

The big guard did most of the pushing and shoving. Eric was a full-sized guy, but this Amazon was his match. She was at least six feet tall with broad shoulders and an enormous, muscular ass. All of her barely fit into her utility blue uniform. A heavy-duty bra stuffed her huge breasts into two stiff, pointy mountains. Her badge was pinned over the right summit. 

At first, Eric complied, swallowing his sullen anger. However, when the she-hulk shoved him onto the elevator headed down to the security section he attempted a pathetic rebellion. "Get your hands off of me. I am getting out of this fucking place on my own two feet."

When the elevator door closed, the aggressive female pressed the stop button setting off the elevator alarm. She threatened, "Really, big shot? Get'n out on your own, huh? Maybe you can crawl out on your own." She suddenly grabbed Eric's arm, twisted it up behind his back, bent him back, and kicked his feet apart so that he was unbalanced with his legs spread open wide. "Nail him in the balls!" With that, the other guard swung her baton, smashing Eric full force in his exposed crotch. With a breathless gasp, Eric collapsed to the elevator floor. The claustrophobic elevator cab shook. The clanging alarm warbled.

A feminine mass loomed over Eric, giant breasts swinging. She grabbed Eric by his hair, picked him up off the floor like a rag doll, and slammed his face into the elevator wall. "You gonna listen now? I'd be happy to give you some more. Well? When I talk to you, speak. Not enough yet? Good. Give him another." She pulled back and tripped Eric again. His head slammed the floor with a thud. The elevator cab suffered a nauseating quake. The hulk's withered partner smiled. She had no idea her new job was going to be so much fun. The alarm pealed.

The scrawny guard thought, "I'd rather fuck this pretty boy, I haven't gotten laid in months, well truth is years, but beating the piss out this son-of-a-bitch is almost as good." She stepped astride the stunned man sprawled out below her. She faced Eric's feet gripping her baton tightly. She licked the yellow stain of a grin contorting her tobacco eroded face, and then swung full force. This time she caught him full across his left nut. Eric shriveled to a spastic wad of pain and emitted a pathetic groan. The angry hag wiped stringy hair off her prematurely aged face and gloated at the pretty male cringing in agony at her feet, grasping his testicles. Satisfaction suffused her crotch. The elevator alarm throbbed.

"That'll shut him up. I gotta to tell ya that did something for me. Wow, this'll give me something to think about when I slip into bed tonight, alone again. I haven't had a man in, well I don't know when. Maybe I'll just take this baby home with me to keep me company." She lovingly wrapped her fingers around her baton, kissed it, and then slipped it back into her belt. 

The big guard laughed, "Sure thing this wimpy shit ain't got nothing that big, that hard, or that black. You're better off with that stick anyway. Men ain't nothing but trouble." She picked Eric up off the floor and forced him into the wall again, pinning him with her hand at his throat. She gave Eric cheerful, toothy grin, "You gonna to mind now?"

Eric struggled to speak through the fist gripping his throat. He whined, "Yeah, yeah, what ever you want. Just back off." She scowled. Eric whimpered, "Yes officer, please?"

"That's a good boy. You're going down with us." She pushed a button, the alarm mercifully shut up, and the elevator descended. Under the guards' watchful eyes, Eric sunk toward security.

The guards half carried the limping Eric into the security section. The girl at the surveillance monitors looked up, "Is everything all right? What was going on in the elevator?"

The big guard smiled as nice as could be. "Oh, everything is just fine. The boy's feeling a might sick and he fainted. Miss Claudia, told us to keep all this confidential so you gonna have to leave us alone with the boy. Go on take your break. I'll call you when its time to come back." Turning to Eric she said sweetly, "Ok, darling just sit still in that chair; we're gonna take some pictures." The girl left and took any sweetness with her.

The mousy guard hissed, "You are going to just sit, do what you're told, and keep your mouth shut. Got it? There is nothing I'd rather do than thump you in the balls again. So please, make my day, mouth off again." The dried up paste of her face crinkled with a nasty grin as she cackled orders at Eric to turn this way and then that while she photographed him. "One more. You're gonna have a big old shinner. That secretary of yours really fought you off. You must have really, really wanted to eat that pussy. Was it worth it; taste good? Let me get a shot of that come stain on your crotch"

The Amazon snorted, "Miss Claudia said to strip search him."

"I thought she said to strip him of company property."

"No, I think she said to strip search him. Get up off that chair and take your clothes off asshole. Let's see what you're hiding."

Eric was appalled. "This is ridiculous. I'm not hiding anything. Take the damm keys; take whatever. I'm not taking my clothes off."

The feminine aggressor laughed, "Now honey, you know how much I'd like to whoop you, so don't temp me. It would be just too much fun." 

As she said this, both guards once again pulled their batons. The bony one circled behind. Eric realized resistance would be futile and painful. He was already thoroughly humiliated, so just be done with it. Eric stood and piece by piece, he removed his clothes. The cold room bleared in the greenish chemical smolder of flickering security monitors. The hulking female loomed over Eric while her partner went through his things. She put his keys in a drawer and emptied his wallet. She held up some bills, "Split it?" 

"Sure. You ain't hiding something up your ass are you, boy?" The big one rubbed her baton under Eric's scrotum. "Staff development just trained us on cavity searches, but I'm not sure we've got the lubricant. I guess I could do it dry." 

"No, we've got lube." Eric heard the snapping of latex gloves.

"Maybe if you are a good boy we can skip that. So you like eating pussy? Do me, and we can forget about the cavity search." With that, the dominant guard dropped her pants, jumped up on a desk, and spread her legs.

Eric looked into the huge woman's pussy and was sickened. A thick bush of black kinky hair curled around the biggest cunt he had ever seen. She smiled at Eric's dazed snooping and spread her fat nether lips apart. A long clit bulged out of its hood and drooped below. She pressed the fleshy folds of her labia and her clitoris swelled from a distended protuberance to a plump, erect stub. She was a big woman, but the grotesque assemblage in her crotch was huge. Eric was revolted, but his traitorous sexual curiosity was intrigued. He'd never seen this sort of freak show before. 

Eric's interest flattered the Amazon. "Now ain't that the biggest ting-a-ling you ever saw. Lucky you. Get down in there and suck. Do me nice now, get me off. Come on pretty boy get that pretty face in it."

A hand shoved Eric in the back and he meekly dropped to his knees before the giant cunt. Surrender was becoming a habit. Eric didn't know clits got that big. He was spellbound. The pitiful remnants of resistance and self-respect dissolved into perverse arousal, and conditioned response took over. Eric's cock got erect and his mouth watered. Gina had trained him well. Disgust fled with its patron, dignity, abandoning Eric to perversion. He leaned forward, took the monstrous clit into his mouth, and sucked like a baby at a teat.

Eric's thoughts drifted, "What an enormous clit. She tastes different, not very clean. I guess this is what funky means. She's easy. This monster clit is getting stiff, now warm. My tongue can easily make out the thick root below the skin reaching down toward her hole. You don't want to go down there. Just long lapping strokes on her rubbery stump. She likes it. It's hard and it's hot. Work it. Drive her; suck it. Make her happy. She's going to come fast."

And she did. While Eric worked on the big cunt, her sex-starved partner took off her pants. When Eric leaned back from the extraordinary cunt to admire a job well done, the hungry one pulled him down onto his back. Eric lay passively with his hardon jutting into the air. "My turn," she said as she straddled Eric, grabbed his cock and started to slide it into her cunt.

"No, no, honey don't do that. You never know where that dirty thing's been. Besides, this one's a great cunt sucker. Use him for what he's best at. Let him eat you. If you still want something hard inside let me do you with this." The Amazon kissed her baton.

"Yeah," the horny guard breathed as she slipped off Eric's cock and stuck her cunt into face. She used Eric brutally, driving her pussy into his face. Eric struggled to keep up as she hammered his mouth with her cunt, but she would not let Eric lick or suck. She just banged his face as she beat off.

It hurt. It must have hurt her too, but she could not seem to get enough. Eric tried to suck, to lick, but all she wanted from him was a face to bang. The best Eric could do was stick out his tongue. It was no better than a pathetic soft cock, but it was good enough for her. This woman was desperate for an orgasm and patient pussy lapping was not on her agenda. She took her clit in her fingers and furiously beat off, all the while slapping and sliding her slit into Eric's tongue, nose, even eyes. She climaxed, relaxed, and a warm drizzle leaked all over Eric face. He finally started to cry.

The straw boss said, "My, my honey I like the way did him. Let me." They changed places and the Amazon squatted above Eric's head. "Open your mouth asshole." Then she pissed all over Eric's head. Eric's defilement pooled on the vinyl floor. He wept to suppress the very fact of his existence. 

The satisfied barrel of womanly flesh held up her baton, and tempted her partner, "Want some of this now?" But the mousey guard had put on her pants and was looking at a monitor. "Rain check, ok? It looks like his ride's here." The monitor showed that Gina's Jaguar had pulled up at the front gate.

"Ok asshole, get up. There's a mop over in the corner clean this mess up. Then put your clothes on. Quick, get to it." Eric reflexively obeyed. By then Eric was a zombie—utterly exhausted, confused and compliant. Naked, Eric silently mopped up the pool of piss where he had lain and received the unimaginable humiliation. He rinsed off in the utility sink in the corner then dressed. All the while, the guards cruelly mocked him, "Clean it up good, piss licker. That's it wash off the stink in the sink. Put that worthless dick back in your pants; hide it."

Nausea finally got the best of him and Eric vomited in the sink. He rinsed his mouth out and the guards led him to the dock for release into Gina's custody. The sweet young dock attendant was perplexed, but her questions were rebuffed. The guards had their orders, strict confidentiality. Eric glanced at the girl forlornly, but said nothing. Even though the girl was a lowly dockworker, she was one of the office cuties he had fucked and then cut off without another word.

Ashley, left alone in her office, monitored the guards' progress with Eric by flipping through security channels on a large screen monitor mounted in her office. She smiled quietly as she watched the guards beating Eric in the elevator, laughed aloud when they made him strip, and cackled like a witch in heat at the face rape. These girls would get a bonus. She made a note to keep the tape. Gina would love this.

Her plan had worked. Everything was falling into place. That beautiful cocky prick was all hers. "What a brilliant conniver I am. Ah, Ashley you are unique. No other woman but yourself could have brought that bastard to his knees the way you have. There is no one on earth who sees reality as clearly, who is as free from worn out convention, who exists so authentically as you, Ashley queen of the world. And oh my beautiful apprentice Gina, you and I do rule our world." Ashley gave herself a big hug. Then she slipped her fingers into her panties. 

She called Gina. "We have him now. He will be at the dock soon. You have been brilliant my love. The trap is closed."

"Ashley, it is you who is brilliant. I am just your novice. This is so much fun, thank you. Oh, I have another call coming in. It's your General Counsel. Where did you find that tight ass nerd? Should I take her call?"

"Yeah, put it on conference, but don't let her know I'm listening. This girl is a piece of work. Put her on."

"Hello Gina, it is Claudia again. Thank you for taking my call. I am so sorry to have to burden you with so much unpleasantness. There have been some developments since last we spoke. We have conducted the hearing regarding the unfortunate events we discussed earlier and concluded that pursuing criminal charges against Eric would be premature at this time. However, the only pretext for avoiding this scandalous option is to medicalize the narrative. That is, to conclude that Eric has had a mental breakdown. 

"There is a hospital where we could send him. They could hold him for protection and observation. However, when last we spoke you indicated that you were aware of Eric's... well let us say Eric's illness. You said that you had been attempting to deal with his disease through an in-home care program wherein his phallic urge was sublimated into an oral impulse. A laudable strategy, but we can agree that professional assistance is now required. If you are still so inclined, we at the company are not adverse to private care arraignments as an alternative to hospitalization. Our benefit plan covers outpatient psychiatric care and counseling, and so we will pay.

"FYI, this company also instituted a plan of providing full benefits to domestic partners. We not only encouraged that all so situated employees participate, but that they establish legal relations and obligations to their partners similar to those between spouses. Eric has been somewhat distracted lately, but his former secretary Shyanne, being excellent with details, saw to it that Eric signed all the right papers. This shows again that it takes a woman to bring order to a man's life."

Gina was in her car strumming her fingers on the steering wheel. Ashley was in her office strumming on her clit. Claudia prattled on.

"Therefore, when Eric enrolled in our benefit plans, he also signed the appropriate documents to establish you as his emergency contact, and grant you powers appropriate to a spouse so that control of his medical decisions reverts to you in the event of a medical emergency, such as has now befallen him. Something has gone wrong in his head; it's the only reasonable explanation. Of course, we must be charitable toward the mentally challenged, provide appropriate accommodation, and assure their loving partner protects them. We are therefore able to relinquish custody of Eric to you just as if you were his spouse with full authority to direct his treatment. 

"Our company endeavors to be a proud leader in providing full consideration to domestic partners, in breaking down the societal prejudices surrounding gender and partnership issues, and in challenging the dominating conventions of the ancient patriarchal tropes oppressing our culture. 

"We are concerned that Eric receives the most advanced treatment. You mentioned that you had reached a similar conclusion yourself, and that you had identified a provider. As luck would have it, the individual you identified is not only a professional of renown, but she is a close acquaintance of our CEO. Ashley has agreed to speak to Anna to entreat her to take Eric as a patient. The coincidence of these personal relationships is quite remarkable. As the common people say, 'It is a small world.' 

"If these arraignments meet with your approval, you may pick Eric up at your convenience. If you prefer I could arraign for security to deliver him to your home."

"Sorry Claudia, my attention wandered. What you said was, 'You can pick up your cunt sucker anytime now and do anything you to want him.' Right?"

"That is the essence."

"Great. I'm already here. Send him to the dock. Goodbye. Ok Ashley, she's gone. What a fucking piece of work. How can you stand her?"

"Gina darling, you have to have a sense of humor with Claudia. Claudia actually is an excellent attorney, at least on theoretical stuff. I hired her as a favor to a friend, and although she is a dope, she is my dope. I have a plan for Claudia. You know what I say—there is a purpose for every person."

"I didn't know you said that, but it sounds like you, if you mean a purpose that serves Ashley. Put the babbling bitch to good use. See you soon. Bye." 




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 14



Ashley sat back and relished her conquest. She grinned to herself and at the thought of how she completely she had ensnared poor Eric. The wolf might still struggle, but his leg was caught tight in the jaws of her iron trap. Now let him squirm. Ashley leaned back in her sumptuous leather chair, put her legs up on her expansive walnut desk, and indulged her insatiable pussy. Ah, to savor the delight of victory. Ashley was thoroughly lubed up and on the brink of another orgasm when Shyanne's voice on the intercom interrupted Ashley's reverie, "its Claudia, do want to take her call?" Ashley didn't stop frigging herself. "No. Tell her to come here." 

Ashley climaxed just as Shyanne called again, "Claudia is here."

"Come in, both of you." Shyanne glimpsed Ashley slipping her fingers out of her cunt just as she led Claudia into Ashley's inner office.

"Ashley, I contacted Eric's partner and she will be picking him up. I assured her that you would call Anna and..."

"Shut up Claudia. Did anyone ever tell you talk too much? Stop fussing. Everything was arraigned weeks ago. Shyanne get me some coffee. I have a headache. The caffeine should help."

"I just read a study showing that for women in particular, excessive caffeine consumption..."

"Shut the fuck up Claudia. Your never-ending blabbing gave me this headache. Claudia, as you were going over Eric's expense account did you notice all the disbursements to Vegas Amusements? A lot of money went there. Did it ever occur to you to find out what that was about? I've done my own research and it seems Vegas Amusements is none other than our lovely, demure Shyanne. Isn't that right Shyanne? Claudia, if you were worth a shit you would have figured that out right away.

"You see Claudia; this quiet young thing is a prostitute, a hooker Eric brought in from the street. Eric brought this trash into my company without regard to the diseases and moral rot that infect her. She and Eric together fleeced this company, its customers, and the good taxpayers who have been footing the bill. For years been my company has been an ethical stalwart, providing our servicemen with the tools they need to defend our shores. Our cluster bombs, mines and surveillance devices have always been state of the art, and have kept America free. Now these two have stained our moral standing with their dishonesty and debauchery.

"I've known this for some time, but I allowed Shyanne to stay on because I believe in second chances. Don't worry Claudia; I had a doctor check her out. After a course of antibiotics, she's clean, so you don't have to back away from her like that. Shyanne has served me well since I took control of her life. She has learned to obey and be a good girl. If she continues, I won't send her off to jail. I may even let her gain access to some of the money she tried to steal from me. Shyanne tell Claudia what you are."

Shyanne's eyes filled with tears, and looking at the floor she mumbled, "Claudia, I'm a whore."

"Shyanne, a half truth is still a lie; remember what I said would happen if you were dishonest. You are 'A whore and a thief' right? Now look Claudia in the eye and tell her exactly what you are."

Shyanne looked into Claudia's eyes. Shyanne bit her bottom lip and fought back the tears in her big blue eyes. "Miss Claudia, I am a whore and a thief."

Claudia was appalled, by Shyanne, but more so by Ashley's deliberate cruelty. "Ashley please don't humiliate her like. If Shyanne was forced into a life of prostitution, it was probably that social and economic forces beyond her..."

"Shut up! Claudia, I am sick of your political bullshit, I am sick of your inane philosophy, and I am sick of your academic pretensions. You don't get it. Claudia, you don't know the first fucking thing about 'liberation'. If a woman, or a man for that matter, can't liberate herself by simply saying 'I will be free', then they were born to be a slave. And being a slave is ok. The smart slave knows what it is, and wills itself to be the slave to its master of choice—lover, money, work, maybe some addiction, whatever fits. And that's ok. After all, you've got to have slaves if you're going to have masters.

"Look at you Claudia. You are the most common and pathetic slave of all—a slave to her own fear. You have read a thousand books on liberation, even written one, and yet in all my life I have never known a more constrained, uptight slave. You are a slave to your own utter inability to admit to yourself what you really want or to imagine that you can make it happen. You have gone to schools for decades and you don't know anything worth knowing. For you, everything is a heroic effort, a dismal delusional struggle. I know for a fact that you're still a virgin at the age of 31. Couldn't win that battle? And you have never had an orgasm. Who is oppressing whom? Why, when you came to work for me, you thought it was an act of courage just to shave your legs." 

Claudia was mortified. She had thought she had been doing well, that she had found a place in the real world where she could fit in and make a meaningful life for herself. This house of cards was falling apart. But it got worse. A friend, her only friend, had recommended that Claudia apply to Ashley for this job. Claudia was astonished when she was accepted. She could finally leave her academic cocoon and fly off to pollinate the real world. 

She had called her friend to share the good news. In her bubbling joy, Claudia asked her friend about fitting into the corporate culture. Her friend told her to try to present herself as a normal person. She implored her at least to shave her legs. Claudia agreed, "Yes. I will. I will not do it to submit to the objectifying sexual dynamics of demeaning societal stereotypes, but to make my mark on the economic life of our culture. It will take an act of courage on my part, but I will shave my legs!"

Now Claudia understood that none of this had been kept in confidence. She had also confided to this friend that she was a virgin and that she could not achieve orgasm. She had been betrayed and used as a joke. Claudia felt as though she had been stripped naked to be paraded down Main Street.

"Ashley, I am sorry I have disappointed you. I hereby resign."

"No you don't. I won't let you resign. I've decided you have had a mental breakdown, just like Eric. You signed papers too; remember? If you recall, on your first day, when you said you didn't have an emergency contact, I told you could put my name down. You thanked me profusely, way too profusely—blah, blah, blah. Besides, you just bought a million dollar town home mortgaged to your eyeballs based on what I pay you. You cut the academic umbilical cord, and with my contacts, I can blackball you at every university, law school and kindergarten in the county. You are worthless as a real lawyer; you know that. You have no money, just debt. You know what? Fuck the papers you signed. You can go; go flip hamburgers; go.

"On the other hand maybe for once in your life you can look into the mirror and see straight. Claudia, the reason you aren't 'liberated' is that you were born to be a slave. If you can't be free, why don't you at least try to be happy? You can be my sex slave. I can make you happy. I will share you with my friends and you can make them happy.

"I'd like to try a little experiment. You're a virgin at 31. Shyanne here is a whore. She was twelve when she took her first cock, and don't give me that exploitation bullshit. It was all her idea, and she loved it. She's been fucking everything in sight ever since. She turned pro at sixteen. Let's see if the hot, hot Shyanne can impart some of her sexual wisdom to the cold, cold ignorant Claudia. Shyanne look into Claudia's eyes, and tell her what it is like to suck Eric's dick."

Shyanne was shaken by the ferocity of Ashley's attack on Claudia. Shyanne didn't like Claudia a bit, no one did. But all of her resentment and suspicion of the intimidating Claudia melted when she looked at the fragile, torn apart shell of an over-aged girl she'd become. Shyanne feared for Claudia's sanity, but she feared the wraith of Ashley more. She knew how to be sensual under stress. She was a pro. 

"Claudia look at me. Look into my eyes. Listen; really listen to what I am saying. I saw you staring at Eric's dick. I saw that you wanted it. Well it's everything you imagined, and more. Eric has a thick, hard, long cock. It has great mouth feel. It slides in easily at first, over your lips and onto your tongue. The head is perfectly formed, delectable. Eric's cock seems to get bigger as it slides to the back. It fills you up. If you dare, you can push it; push it down your throat. It's not easy because it's so thick. I hold my breath repress the gag reflex, and push. Swallow and that beautiful cock pops in, filling you up, inflating your throat. If you can stay relaxed, it's wonderful. I feel like a pink birthday balloon bursting with fun, like I might explode with love..." Shyanne could not go on. Claudia was crying like a child who never had a birthday party.

Ashley whispered, "Claudia, that's what you want, isn't it? Not just the big hard cock, but the degradation. Speak."

"Oh, please, please, don't make me talk. I beg you."

"Since you put it that way, since you beg, I will be kind. Keep your mouth shut; no one wants to listen to you anyway. Just take off all of those ugly clothes. Good girl, take it all off. Strip. Keep your eyes on Shyanne, the beautiful Shyanne. Look into those lovely blue eyes. Don't break the spell; there is only pain if you turn away. See, even a frigid old bitch like you can learn new tricks. You can obey. Shyanne when we're done throw those rags into the trash. That's it Claudia, now the panties and the bra. Was it an act of courage to wear the bra? There, you're naked. Now look at me Claudia; it time for a little more pain.

"You are not much to look at Claudia. You're not fat, just thick, fleshy, and formless. You haven't done anything physical in your life. Your breasts are pathetic. How can they be so small and still sag? There not the same size either. What would you call the color of your skin? Is pulp a color? I'll bet the sun never shined on that squishy dough. I see you really did shave your legs. Considering that thatch growing on your pussy and up your belly, you probably needed to use a lawn mower. Go ahead; cry. Crying is kind of like getting even more naked.

"Shyanne, strip and show Claudia what a woman is supposed to look like. Claudia, that's enough pain for the moment, now a little pleasure. Look at Shyanne. Look, look, look. Look at Shyanne strip. Looking at that beautiful body isn't painful is it? Shyanne's a pro. Men paid good money just watch her take off her clothes. That's it Shyanne perform for us; show your dramatic skills. You see Claudia? Aren't those silicone stripper tits luscious? Shyanne show Claudia your back. Look at the smooth line of her back, the way it curves down deep into that narrow, tight waist, and then explodes to the white expanse of her gorgeous ass. That ass is so full and round, those firm, taut globes defy gravity. Claudia look at those long legs, that flawless skin, those sinuous muscles. 

"Shyanne, turn and show Claudia your cunt. Shyanne has such a perfect pussy I make her keep it naked. Every morning the first thing I do here at the office is check to be sure Shyanne shaved carefully. Get on your knees Claudia, examine Shyanne's cunt closely. Can you see her clit peeking out under the naked folds of her pussy lips? Shyanne has a very large clitoris. That's probable somehow related to her sex crazed nature. 

"Poor Claudia can't come; I'll bet you have a tiny clit. That's probable related to your dried up nature. I'll bet hidden under all that bushy cunt hair you've got a withered knot for a clit and dried up prune for a pussy. Not Shyanne, she is full, ripe and juicy. Shyanne is exquisite. Yes Claudia what you see there is a real woman. Would like to touch that lovely body? Would you like Shyanne to touch you? Shyanne is a sex expert. She can cure you. Shyanne can give you that organism you could never give yourself.

"So Claudia, you want her. Beg. Promise to be my slave, to be Shyanne's slave, to be the slave of my slave or anyone I choose for you. Or you can leave. No strings, I promise. I will declare you cured, and you can walk off into the void busted and worthless, but 'liberated'. Speak up you dumb, fucking cow; will be my slave, or will you be free."

Claudia could not take her eyes off Shyanne's naked body. She felt as if she had stepped out of a cave and into real sunlight for the first time. Claudia croaked, "I am yours; I am your slave. If it can be done please let me be happy; that's all I ever really wanted. I'm sorry I am so worthless, please help me."

"Excellent. Shyanne use my office for as long as it takes. Give her that orgasm she has been waiting decades to have. I know you can do it. Then have her write up a set of documents stating that Eric willingly transfers all of his money, real property, and medical decisions to Gina. I want this to cover everything—body, life, soul. I want these documents to state explicitly that Eric acknowledges his status as Gina's slave, and he directs that Gina be his trustee, beneficiary, and guardian with complete authority to dispose of his estate and physical body in any manner she sees fits, without regard to his own well being. I want him to agree to be enslaved, whipped, abused—everything you can think of—branded? Then have Claudia write similar documents giving herself to me.

"Shyanne, you and Claudia are the exact opposites—the beautiful, uneducated, sex-crazed whore, and the plain, dried up academic. The girl who never had a birthday party meets the girl who got a new pony at each one. The party girl and the sad girl chained together, mixed in my crucible like acid and alkaloid. Will the two of you explode, or combine, and become a single worthwhile thing? We'll see.

"Have fun. Make her come. I will be monitoring my research closely. Oh, one more thing, Claudia's unfaithful buddy told me Claudia's favorite sex fantasy is to be whipped by a beautiful woman."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 15



"You will do. Come knell at my feet."

Arms and balls bound, I stood naked in the unbearably high window of Anna's tower above the city as she determined my fate. Accepted? I was reborn. I turned away from the world to joyfully stumble to the supreme bitch goddess and fell to my knees.

"Do you like these shoes? Put your head under my skirt. Lean forward between my legs and breathe. Suck my air. Is this what you need? There are just a few details, some things for you to sign. Sign away your life to Gina, and you be accepted."

Anna's scent spun into me. Memory of how I had come to be in this place faded to an indistinct haze. I gratefully accepted her grace.

With my arms strapped behind my back, I struggled at Anna's feet. Her scent overwhelmed me, enthralled me. I was lost in a fog-swaddled sea. Anna's beauty alone could have commanded my absolute surrender, but she wanted more. She wanted nullification, then transformation. And so she made me breathe the vapors of a magical preparation she wore as a perfume. I bowed to the ground before her like a savage worshiping a smoldering pot of sacred fungus. The intoxicating narcotic dazzled, enchanted, and charmed a hazy obligation to Anna's dominion more profound than any bullying coercion could enforce. One by one, the connections in my brain abandoned their posts and turned to salute Anna. I knelt stripped naked as the unifying weave of my oneness loosened and came undone. 

Numb, drunk, and awed by Anna, I fell hopelessly under the spell of the mysterious pheromones wafting from the temple of her body. My world disintegrated into a crumbing collage of sensation. Stupefied, I lovingly caressed the pieces—her shoe, her petite and perfectly formed foot, her toes.

Thoughts mumbled through my mind like exhausted, muffled thunder bumping around in a saturated, spent sky, "The Goddess's foot is snow white; her nails blood red; the delicate articulation of her bones is a marvel. Her shoe is a pedestal wrapped in straps of white leather and embedded with sparkling diamonds. The heel is a dagger. Her ankle, her calf, the back of her knee...a voice, no the aria of an angel is floating down upon me from heaven. It is warm snow whispering a secret, 'Breathe. Take the scent deep into your lungs'. Yes, anything, thank you Goddess."

I could not speak. Rather, an odd paralysis froze my capacity to summon any act independent of the Goddess's command. She said breathe; she did not say speak. I dreamed, "Thank you mistress. Let me absorb your bouquet. This air is not air, nor water, earth or even fire, it all at once and more—quintessence. More? Of course dear goddess. She is permitting me to put my head under her dress." My thoughts and emotions wobbled an idiot's reel. The warm pastel tent of Anna's full, flowery skirt enveloped me.

Judgment buckled into muddled musing, "Ah, here is my center. This is what I live for. My heart aches for her taste. The smell is new, like, but not, Gina. Are there words to describe that difference? If I could taste, if I could run my tongue across the slick, smooth folds, if I could reach to lap the sweetness deep within, perhaps I could discover the language of her pussy, perhaps the mysterious sacred words would form upon my tongue. Anna's legs are lovely, sturdier than Gina's, but perfectly formed and white as snow. Would she permit a kiss? Would she grant the blessed honor of tasting the back of her knee? It is so soft. Yes, it is scented, dabbed with that perfume. The fragrance is strangely, powerfully enervating—at once flowers and sex. The drug calls the way the love lure of flowers calls the worker bee."

Anna uncrossed her legs and opened her thighs, such perfect, encircling softness. The aroma of novel pussy wafted down upon me from her inviting crease, flooding my mind. Her perfume, her sex, her governance fogged and negated my sanity. My mouth watered, but my throat was dry as an ache. I did not dare further approach toward the mouth of her holy body, but my heart's core was drawn out of my flesh toward her essence to fall exhausted beneath her supremacy. 

"Anna is speaking. She seems so far away. Her voice is a heavenly chorus and I float in ethereal clouds. Please madam, let me stay here, here within the tent of your dress, here at the mouth of the cave of love, here at the portal of paradise. Let me linger." Anna softly pushed me out, back into the light. Half-formed images, forgotten dreams, and insubstantial wafts of lost wishes floated through my mind only to evaporate. I was too weak to speak; thoughts could barely form or adhere to meaning. 

"Anna's hands are soft and kind. She is warm and tender. What can I do to return to the warm, silky shelter of your thighs? What can I do to earn the privilege of sucking on the sweetness of your sex? Sign? What is it that all they want? Sign? Of course I will sign, if my hand can grasp the quill. I am too weak even to speak, too weak to beg. It is her face. Anna is floating above me. Her hair is long—strawberries cascading in slow motion. Her smile—her lips are sweet cherries, her skin still sweeter cream. She leans toward me. Her milky throat, her fair shoulders, and the white bulge of breasts swelling within whiter lace billow about me. I am drifting in a cumulous sky of Anna. Ah, she kissed my forehead. I will cry. I am feeble; this scent of Anna compels blessed fondness. Her legs are so beautiful. Her face...I cry." 

"Eric, please listen. I will let you lick me. If you do as you are told, you may taste my femininity. Here, let me reach down and get some on my fingers. There, now you may have a taste, just a little taste. Suck it from my fingers. Is that better? Now listen. Are you awake now? We want you to sign some documents. 

"It is nothing really. They just say that you agree to be Gina's slave, and that you are granting full control of your care and custody to Gina. The papers simply state the obvious: that you will let her, that is that you yearn for her to do whatever she desires to you. You give your body, your person, and your life to her. That is what you want; right, to be of use to Gina? The documents state that you recognize your perversions, and so you seek, desire, and accept healing, treatment, and whatever cure Gina deems necessary. The papers state that you acknowledge Gina's control is required to prevent your perversions from menacing women, and that to control these dangerous impulses, you wish that Gina subordinate concern for your personal welfare to the greater good of making the world safe for women. Safe...it's a good thing. You want that, don't you? 

"The documents list things you propose to Gina to do to you. You ask that she, or her designee, punish you regularly, that you may be whipped daily regardless of any apparent need to punish, that she may mark your body for identification, even with a hot iron if need be, that may she insert body ornaments into you as it pleases her, that Gina will use you for her pleasure and profit, that you implore her to forge you into an implement for pleasuring women, and that Gina may dispose of you however and whenever she deems appropriate. Oh my, this list goes on. It says Gina may have sexual commerce with whomever she likes, but that you will be permitted relations only as she orders. Any income earned will be hers and you give everything you own to her. She may delegate her authority as needed, and so on and so forth. In their essence, the documents are quite straightforward and unambiguous. Did I mention the branding iron? What is the matter sweet boy, you're trembling. Is the room too cold? You may speak."

I moaned, "Please madam, a hot iron, please, must I be...be...branded? I have been good. I obey. Is it necessary to... to...?"

Anna laughed gaily, "Oh, calm yourself. We have no immediate plans to brand you. You are such a baby. This is just one item from several lists in the Designation of Authority to Direct Medical Care and the Trust and Estate Agreement. The lists are set forth simply to set parameters; it does not mean that we actually will brand you, just that we may brand you. It is your proposal to Gina that if she thought it appropriate that you be marked with a hot iron, that you agree...so that you may be cured and rendered harmless. You propose a long list of possible actions, but we have no specific, current intention to do all of these things. For instance the permanent cock ring and other ornamental piercings, Gina said she would like to avoid superfluous mutilations. Gina's attorney simply wanted to prepare for all contingencies. You've met Gina's lawyer. Claudia has quite the imagination. You trust her don't you?

"Now, Gina needs to video the signing of the Agreements for her latest effort in performance art. I want you to stand up and walk over there into the light so that Gina can record everything. She is an artist, and you will become her Art. Let me lead you by your leash." Anna took me by the chain dog leash that hung under my ball harness. "Up boy." She casually tugged my chain. The sweet pain of the jolt relieved my lingering fear that my numb balls had died in their long constraint in the harness. I stumbled to my feet and followed my purple, bulging balls into a bright light before a camera.

"You have been a good boy Eric. One final step remains and I will accept you as my patient. Just obey Gina and sign the papers." I stood in the hot, blinding camera lights.

From behind a light so white my sight was blackened, so intense my head throbbed, Gina's voice commanded, "Eric look toward the camera. Tell us what you are." I stared into the blackness of the light.

"I am your slave."

"Spread your legs apart so that everyone can see what's going on down there in your crotch. Pick up your chain and offer it to the camera. I am zooming in on your dick, or where your dick should be. Tell our viewers what has been done to your cock."

"Gina has placed my cock in this cage. The cage is a steel thing that squeezes my penis into tiny rings, and holds it close to my body so that I cannot get an erection. Gina says I should not be allowed to get an erection without her permission. With this cock cage, I cannot. It hurts a little, but not as much as my ball harness."

"Tell us about your ball harness." 

"See, here it is. My balls are strapped in so that they bulge out and stretch away from my body. Gina has attached this leash to my balls and she leads me around by it. My balls have been tied up like this for hours now. They are all purple. They ache. But Gina said it is not tight enough to kill them. I don't want to lose my balls."

"Of course not, but if I asked, you would let me castrate you, wouldn't you?"

"Gina, I am your slave, my balls are yours to use as you please."

"You are avoiding the question. Tell our viewers, may I castrate you?"

"Yes. Gina may cut my balls off if it pleases her. If she needs to, Gina may castrate me. But, I hope this does not happen. Gina has used my balls to teach me to behave. When Gina takes me by the balls, when she takes my testicles in her teeth, I know my place. I know I must serve. Without my balls, I might be cut off from all direction; I would have no compass. Now, as I stand here with my balls in my harness, I know no will but to serve my mistress who has bound me."

"Eric, that all seems quite perverted. Are you a pervert?"

"Yes, I am a sex-crazed, dangerous pervert. I have mistreated women. I need to be fixed. Gina has promised to make me better, a better pervert, a subservient, safer pervert."

"Good, and that is why you will sign these documents, because you want to get better, right? Tell our viewers what these papers say and why you agree."

"Gina wants me to sign some papers. I am Gina's slave; I don't know why she needs the papers, but she wants them. They say I am Gina's slave, that I give her everything. I will sign because that is what Gina wants."

"Eric, you must do better than that. First tell everyone why you must be controlled, and then tell them some of the things you want me to do to you. And beg, beg or I will make you walk away a free man. Our viewers need to know how badly you want this."

"I am a pervert. I have been bad to women. I need Gina to fix me. She has taught me to be a pussy-sucking slave, but Gina says there is more for me to learn. Please Gina don't throw me away. I need you. I beg you, be merciful. For anyone seeing this, dear viewer, please understand; Gina is my goddess, my only hope. If I could not be her slave, I would be nothing. I am begging Gina to take me, to make me a better slave. I am a pervert who needs to be controlled. I beg Gina to take that control; I beg that Gina heal me; I beg that Gina let me sign her papers. The papers say I give everything I own to Gina, and that she may do things to me. The papers say what I want, what I need, what I ask for. I ask that Gina use me, whip me, anything. The papers say I want Gina to brand me with a hot iron. 

"Gina, I want your mark, your burning iron, please mistress. I am sorry that I am crying. Please friends understand that I want this; I need this, I am begging for this, all of it. I want Gina to brand me with her mark. Her brand would make me proud. I would show it to her friends to prove my subservience. Gina's brand would be a constant reminder of what I am and would show that I will accept any pain Gina wishes to inflict on me. These tears are tears of joy. Dear viewer, these are my desires, these are my requests to my love, my prayers to my goddess. My tears are prayers. Oh, Gina I love you, please don't send me away."

"Excellent. Now for the signing ceremony. Let me untie you arms so that you can sign away everything. Anna please, would you step behind the camera too be sure it stays framed properly? Eric get on your knees, lower, get your face flat to the floor. Spread your legs and arch your back so that your ass is high. Run your ball leash up between your legs and lay it across your back. Lick the floor. Good, that is a nice pose."

I went down to the floor, spread my knees, and arched my ass. This supplicant pose mirrored my every emotion and desire. My heart, my soul and my aching balls pled, "Take me." I heard Gina step into the camera lights. Gina slipped the toe of her boot between the floor and my face. I kissed my beloved's boot.

"Now sign." Gina pulled her boot back, dropped a sheath of papers onto the floor, and then dropped a pen on top of these. I reached over my head, took the pen, and started to rise to my elbows to find the signature line. Gina immediately put her boot on the back of my neck and pushed my face into the floor. "There is no need to read the papers. You have been told what say, just sign." I reached over my head, felt for the papers, and blindly and clumsily signed for my doom. "Another." Gina dropped another sheath of papers onto the floor. I signed again, this time the pen went off the paper, and I had to start again so that my name was scratched cockeyed all across the documents. "Another." I signed again. "One more." I signed. 

"Perfect, it's done. You're all mine now. Anna, does this cringing creature meet with your approval? Will you take this wad of corruption and clean it? Will you fashion this pig's ear, this pig's drool into a silk purse, fashion it into an ornament fit to hang on a proper lady's arm?"

"Yes Gina, of course. He is a lovely male and it will be a pleasure to forge him into the thing all males should be. I will wring the corruption out of him, and I will mold him into a suitable man slave. It has all fallen in place as we planned; you have prepared him perfectly. I will take on his transformation from this point."

"Thank you. I will leave him to you." The camera lights went out and I remained face in the floor, afraid to move. 

"Anna, it has been a lovely evening, but it is time for me to go. Thank you for everything. As you requested he has not had an orgasm for three weeks now; he is primed. I would stay to watch, but as you know, I am little squeamish about corporal punishment. Even thinking about this insignificant male being whipped triggers memories of that college trauma with Edward. I am sorry; I'm getting over it."

"Gina, I really don't understand why you say you don't enjoy beating men. I've seen you mercilessly whip men. Edward may have abused you, but you returned that upon him tenfold. You seemed to enjoy yourself. I'm sure you intend to beat that arrogant valet I met earlier this evening. 

"I half suspect you don't want to watch me beat Eric because you are in love with him. That's ok, but don't get soft. Eric is a very pretty, very obedient, and even intriguing male. If you love him, I am happy for you. But you are a strong woman. Stay strong and resolute; true love is best strict. Rest assured that Eric will beg for your whip the next time you see him. You wouldn't want to disappoint the man you love, would you? Leave the next steps to me, and be reassured that each blow, each humiliation, and each hurt will cultivate his love for you, only you." 

"Thank you Anna. You are a wise women. Use him hard. Please. Do I love him? It is true that I have feelings for him. I guess that's why I haven't whipped him. Maybe it's just that he is so easy and so pathetic; maybe it's because he is so much in love with me. Look at him on his knees; he's beautiful. But I don't want love to spoil my life, to let love control me. If I am to love a man, I want total control. I don't want a whiff of obligation, guilt or mercy to constrain my life in any way. So beat him, hurt him, and abuse him. If I can enjoy knowing what you are doing to him while I am off enjoying myself freely with other men, if I can think of him as thoroughly debased, then perhaps I could allow myself to love him fully. We'll see.

"Next time we meet I will partake in some male beating. Ashley says more of that would cure me of my aversion to the whip, purge this ridiculous reluctance. I could love this man, but I will only allow myself do so if I am completely unencumbered by obligation. I will overcome this silly squeamishness about beating him. 

"I beat Edward mercilessly, and I enjoyed it immensely. But he didn't deserve mercy. Mercy is the issue. I like this man a little too much. I want to be merciful to him; it's just not right. I need to separate mercy from love. Once he is permanently reduced to a contemptible whipping boy, mercy should no long be an issue. I will be more comfortable, ready to whip him without pity; ready to love him in the manner appropriate to the sort of woman I am determined to be.

"Thank you for accepting him Anna. I will report our progress to Ashley. She will be pleased. Good night. I will show myself out."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 16



Without a knock or warning, Ashley shoved Gina through the door and into the office of Dr. Edward Fish, Professor of English and Comparative Literature. Ashley stepped back to observe her experiment in human chemistry. The fiery fusion of opposites lit Ashley's imagination. When the clash was just right, when two people were different enough that conflict was inevitable, but each was strongly attracted to something in the other that might fill some gaping hole in their own personality, friction might ignite an explosion of amalgamation, passion, and pain. Human experimentation intrigued Ashley, fireworks delighted her, and the smell of conflicted obsession smoldering and sintering in her crucible set her creative urge ablaze. It was a matter of advancing scientific understanding. Who said the humanities could not be a hard science?

Ashley threw the pathologically shy, naïve Midwestern schoolgirl into the den of the womanizing, sociopathic professor. He looked up. The carnivore in him smelled meat. The great Professor appraised the wild, raw beauty Ashley had flung at him to feed upon. This looked too simple. Edward liked easy young women, but this one was different. What was it? 

The girl stood trembling, drenched from the autumn deluge pounding the campus. Her dripping tee shirt revealed a sinuous young body and firm maturing breasts. Her black hair fell in slick streaks down her face into deep, frightened eyes.

Edward usually sniffed out his prey carefully while patiently stalking it through the jungles of academic pretension. That was half the fun, waiting, letting it reveal its inferiority, and finding the weakest place to begin to feed. 

However, this was a different animal. This dumbstruck girl washed up out of the flood could not even pretend pretense. She was openly in awe of him, and she offered up no resistance. The girl's haunting eyes dominated her perfect face, but her gaze fearfully avoided Edward, flitting about like a trapped bird. Her breath was shallow and uneven. The girl clenched her hands at her sides and her fingers fidgeted. Otherwise, she did not stir. She did not utter a sound, though her luscious lips pouted an open invitation to Edward's lust.

The worldly Professor was leery; this must be one of Ashley's malicious tricks. Was this bait for some sort of trap? Edward leaned back into his big chair behind his wide desk in the warm comfort of his office. The leather exhaled a crinkling, satisfied sigh as the chair embraced its master. Edward carefully assessed what Ashley had left for him. What was this thing? It was more than a pretty, shy girl. This was not just a simple easy treat. There was something wild, an enticing elemental vitality about this thing, something dangerous. Then the answer occurred to him; this object Ashley had offered to him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

Ashley poked her head back through the door, "Well guys, I promised to introduce you. Gina, Edward; Edward, Gina. Have fun. Gotta go." Ashley disappeared but her sly departing smile seemed to linger, floating on the intense silence reverberating between Gina and Edward. Edward found words first. "Gina, I have been most impressed with the work you have been doing in my class. Your little paper on Chaucer's Miller's Tale was most insightful. I have been looking forward to an opportunity to discuss it with you." 

Why had Ashley abandoned her like this? Gina felt as though she had lost her grip on the rock that had been saving her from the floodwaters. She was being swept away. "He wants me to speak, but I am drowning." Gina tried to shake her head to break the spell of panic. She managed a crooked smile, and said, "...". Nothing came out. She thought, "I am floundering. He will think I am a moron. I am a moron. I am drowning; I can't breathe. It's all spinning...away..."

Edward was transfixed by the untamed loveliness of the feral child standing before him. "How feeble artifice; how potent nature; its mindless forge has wrought this exquisite faultlessness in so simple a thing. She is slim and muscled, her eyes dark and mysterious, her mouth full and giving. She will speak. I didn't hear. Her mouth is moving but...she is falling." With that, Gina fainted away. 

Gina awoke on a couch in Edward's office. He was leaning over her offering tea in a Japanese cup. "Are you better?" Gina could breathe now, but words still would not come. She attempted a fleeting glance into Edward's eyes, but she blinked, and her eyes fluttered off into the distance. Gina wanted this man but she could not concoct a word of social camouflage. 

In desperation, Gina reached up and pulled him down, drawing his lips to hers. Edward eagerly responded with a long lustful embrace. He spoke to her again. Gina could not answer. In silent desperation she simply offered her herself up. Gina kicked off her boots, unbuckled her belt, and pulled off her soaking jeans and panties. Edward finally understood. This lovely thing was his; there would be no pretence of courtship, and no negotiation of terms of surrender. She was his. 

Edward put down his tea, "Thank you Ashley." Autumn thunder boomed in the dark afternoon sky. Gina pulled Edward down into her body in a tumble.

Cups crack, hot tea flies

Fog kisses rain on cold pane:

Tea leaves scattering.

Edward entered Gina slowly. Torrents of fear and cold soaking rain had conspired to leave Gina's vagina dry. She breathed deeply and grimaced slightly; Gina bit her lip as Edward's cock slipped in, gliding on his slickness only. The resistance warned Edward of how young this girl was, but quickly heating passion thawed all worries. As icy anxiety melted, Gina's true self moved, she opened, and Edward slid deep within. The chill of the world was overwhelmed. The coupling liquefied, and the lovers entered paradise.

Gina had become her own thing. Edward had lost himself in ardor. The man was distracted, so it was safe. Gina dared to look into his eyes. She saw his wild need, a need for her, or for something within her Gina barely knew herself. Gina was no longer the battered toy of her fear and timidity. She gained possession of herself and possession of this beautiful man who needed her more than he knew he could need. Gina rocked to meet his thrusts, grabbed to hold him tight, pressed her lips to his skin and tasted the man of her dreams. 

Even in his lovemaking, Edward had been guarded and self possessed, but this simple girl gave herself so completely and abruptly Edward was knocked over. When he spilled into Gina, for the first time in Edward's waking life the thinking stopped—and then he slept.

The gears engaged with a start. Edward awoke, "What...where? How long have I slept?" What had he done? He hadn't used protection; he hadn't concocted a plan. Edward had done girls in his office before, this was the real reason he had insisted on having the couch. However, he had only done it under cover of night with girls he was certain he could trust and who had conspired with him to enjoy the kinky thrill of sex in the English Department. Edward had fucked many of his students, but he usually waited until the session was over, when the girl's grade was not so obviously trade for the sex. It was a matter of decorum. 

Edward propped himself up and looked down on Gina. This girl had not spoken a word to him. She could be mute for all he knew. What had he done? Why had he taken this chance? Had anyone heard? Will she talk? No, this one was silent as a ghost.

Her eyes opened and for the first time truly met his. Gina glowed with contented adoration. Her lips pouted bliss; her sharp features bewitched; with each breath, her stiff nipples heaved temptation against the thin wet cotton of her tee shirt. Edward thought, "Ah, yes. That is why I did it. She is the most beautiful woman in the world. For her, empires would fall, a thousand ships sail and all that. Edward, you were perfectly justified." 

Edward began calculating. "How do I get her out of here? Will she play the game; can she play the game? Ashley brought her; is this a trick? Please, just go quietly; pretend I just gave you an A on that paper. We can walk out together talking about Chaucer. Damn, I'm supposed to meet Anna in a half hour. Will she smell this girl on me? I think she's already suspicious about the other one. Anna is not the kind to forgive the smell of strange pussy on her fiancé.

"Oh, this girl is beautiful. And she is so easy, so simple and so willing. I have always wanted one like this. I bet I can get her to do anything. I'll bet this girl could be trained to take it kinky. She wouldn't know any better. I could start with a playful pat on the butt, just soft-core fun. I wouldn't want to scare her off. Look at that face. She adores me. Look at that ass; it begs to be used. This might just work. And in the end, I can let Anna have some. She likes girls, and this one's so pretty she would thank me for sharing. Anna won't play slave to me, but she has her kinky side. I'll train this girl and then let Anna use her. I can't be trapped in monogamy. Anna will take my gift, and I will have both Anna and my beautiful slave. Exactly how to do it is the question. Edward, don't get ahead of yourself with these fantastic schemes. Just get this girl out of here safely. Then find a way to see her again." 

Edward smiled down on Gina and said, "That was unexpected and wonderful, but we don't want anyone to find out. We don't want any embarrassment. You wouldn't believe what a bunch of prudes these academic types can be if they can find an advantage in it. Let's get dressed and walk out as if nothing happened; we can pretend we were talking about your paper. Gina, you are something very special. I would like to see you again, but we have to keep it secret, you understand don't you? What about tomorrow afternoon? There's a bar off campus where we can meet without running into people from the school. 

"And please don't tell anyone about this, not even Ashley, especially not Ashley. Tell Ashley we had a nice chat and became friends, but please don't tell her we made love here in the office. I'll figure out what else to tell Ashley later." 

Edward told Gina how to get to the rendezvous. She still could not speak, so she nodded her assent and kissed him. Edward eased away and then escorted Gina out, pontificating noisily on desiccated literature.

Gina met Edward as planned at a hotel bar off campus in the old town's failing center. Gina surrendered to kinky sex play as planned. Gina lied to Ashley as planned.

The bar's low light hid all manner of grime. Gina searched the gloom for Edward. He called to her. The bartender approached, but Gina grabbed Edward's hand and led him to the reception desk. She was ready, she didn't want to drink, and she couldn't produce ID's. Gina at last found a voice by playing the part of a willing sex kitten. "Oh, yes Professor you were fantastic. Can we do it again?" Gina knew her only hope was to get him into bed and fuck, fuck, fuck. She could not hold a conversation with this eminent intellectual. Edward checked in and took her upstairs to a cheap room. 

Gina grabbed her man pulling him down to replay yesterday. Unfortunately, Edward was not as easy this time. 

After screwing Gina the afternoon before, Edward had seen his fiancée Anna. At first, she was cold, angry and distant. She scolded Edward over little nothings; it was not like her. Edward worried that Anna might have guessed something, but then she suddenly became amorous and lured him to bed for an afternoon bout of hot athletic sex. Edward's erection didn't come easily so soon after Gina, so he went down on Anna to cover his inadequacy. 

Edward was confident in this subterfuge because Anna preferred cunnilingus to any of his other sexual tricks. Edward was uncomfortable performing oral sex but he did it routinely for Anna, only Anna, because she demanded it. It was imperative to please Anna; she was a great prize. He didn't go down on his secondary women because he found the act of tonguing a woman's vulva demeaning, but he endured the debasement for Anna. 

Edward thought Anna's demand for this oral perversity a crude weakness, a chink in her otherwise perfect armor of refinement. Perhaps he could exploit it. Edward wanted the rich and beautiful Anna, and if she required that Edward go down on her before granting other sexual favors, he would go along. Edward became habituated to eating Anna's cunt, but his conceit resisted the subterranean seduction persistently calling him to relax, surrender, and enjoy. Edward's pride suppressed the perverse erotic siren's whispered song beckoning him to give in to the bliss of being no more than a tongue in service of the queen. This tentative reluctance did not escape Anna's notice.

However, that afternoon Edward earnestly labored to gratify Anna. His bout with Gina had rendered his cock limp, so he drove his tongue deliberately and stove to satisfy and conceal. Edward's face assiduous burrowed between Anna's thighs, but if Anna was pleased, she didn't let on. She was irritable. She scolded and berated Edward for lack of effort, though he had never tried harder. Anna got hot, but she continued to criticize him, call him ugly names, and finally she swore at him crudely while driving her cunt into his face. "Suck it up douche bag. Tongue fuck my hole." 

Edward was taken aback. Anna was an accomplished anthropology researcher, a former Fulbright scholar, and heiress to one of the world's significant fortunes. "Douche bag?" Anna could be cold, but never vulgar; this wasn't like her. 

Anna was angry with Edward over some unspoken offense but as hot as she had ever been with him. Edward hoped she hadn't guessed he was fucking a student, actually a couple of them. But she hadn't confronted him. Would she be having sex with him if she knew? Edward strove to please his demanding wife to be. Finally, Anna grudgingly accredited his cunt sucking efforts with an orgasmic spasm on Edward's face. That finally got his cock hard. Then Anna fucked Edward's brains out. He lay passive on his back while Anna drained her docile betrothed. 

Anna was gorgeous, sexy in the discreet, elegant manner of the incredibly rich. She was a natural aristocrat. She was almost ten years older than Edward was, but her lovely white skin was perfect and her long blush-blond hair, her fit body, her exquisite face—the whole package was flawless. Everything about Anna was velvety, supple, and regal. To Edward Anna could have been a Celtic fairy queen just stepped out a romantic old oil painting. 

Edward harbored no illusions that Anna harbored illusions about him. She understood him completely. She even had agreed to allow limited womanizing after their marriage, but under her strict supervision. In his glee over this good luck Edward forgot to ask what Anna meant by 'strict supervision'. A rich and beautiful wife and permission for girls on the side; it seemed as close to perfect as he could have hoped. And Anna had money, lots of it. Edward, the spender, did not. He really should have asked more questions.

Anna thoroughly drained Edward throughout that afternoon and again in the morning. It was fantastic, but it took the edge off his desire to see Gina. However, he couldn't reach Gina to postpone the meeting, and so he had forged on. When Gina walked into the bar, every man's eye followed the beautiful girl. Edward's ego savored the attention aimed at his thing. Edward wanted to have a drink to show off his trophy and play for time, but Gina refused. The girl wanted to go right to the room, so Edward signed in, got the key, and up they went. 

Edward needed time, but the gorgeous girl insisted. She dragged him onward. Edward ignored the room's musty odors, he ignored the bed's squeaks, but he could not ignore his cock's failure. The girl pulled him down onto her burning young body, madly kissing him, sucking his mouth, biting his lip, and seeking his tongue. 

Gina pulled off her pants, reached down to put Edward's cock into her, and discovered his sagging dick. Of course, Gina took full responsibility for his failure. "He doesn't want me any more. How can I make him want me again?" 

Edward, accomplished scholar that he was, had the answer. He guided Gina's head down to his cock. Gina opened and took the semi-rigid thing in. It was flaccid but large, and it was hardening, slowly. Gina abandoned herself to sucking Edward's cock. She thought of her only other sex, the motorcycle gang. It had been the cock sucking she liked best. Gina forsook hope and buried doubt in the exquisite pleasure of surrender, in the engulfing, drowning sensation of swallowing the great Professor's fat pliant cock.

"What does he think of me? This is so degrading. What does this refined intellectual think of this course, obscene act? What can he think of this low, dumb whore stooping to feast at his crotch? I love this, but he must be disgusted. I am a sick girl. He must despise this sad girl who can't even say his name to his face, but who will kneel before him and fill her mouth with his cock." 

Gina convinced herself it didn't matter. The Professor would never see her again anyway so she could just give in and enjoy the moment. She could do just what she wanted. She could suck the cock of the man she loved with reckless abandon; there would be no tomorrow. Gina cried as she swallowed.

Edward was hard now. "What a great blow job. I can't believe my luck, she's gorgeous, easy, and she loves sucking cock. Deep throat the first time, there's more to this girl than I would have thought. Cock's up. Good girl. Let me push her further. Strike while the iron is hot. Turn her over and fuck her from behind. Get her on her knees, get her hot, and then fuck the bitch in the ass. Then you will know how far you can take this lovely little strumpet." 

Edward turned Gina over, and stuck his cock into her cunt from behind. It went in smooth and easy. "She likes it doggy style, the hot little slut. The way she tries to stifle those soft squeals is pathetic, no, splendid. Pound her now, make her want it, faster, drive her, now she is getting hot. Slap her ass. Let her cry; that's good. Teach her to love being slapped around. Make it hurt. Yeah, she likes it. She is dripping wet; she is getting close. 

Now take her in the ass. Make the whore scream. Take her up that firm, sweet ass. Just slide up to that tight dirty hole and force it in. She is trying to take it like she has done this before, but no; it's too tight. What a good little girl. She's trying to help. She's holding firm, pushing back, opening herself, and helping to slip it in. It's in. What a whore, she likes it. Push it easy. Yes, it hurts her but she still wants it. What a perfect girl. Go slow, just a little more cock each time. She is so hot, I know it hurts her, those tears are real, but she still wants it. She wants more, wants it hard right up her ass. This girl will do anything. I will make her do everything. Now hard, fast, drive her. She's sobbing, good, cry bitch. Take that cock all the way up your whore's ass. She's coming; I am coming."

The lovers collapsed into sleep stretched out in Room 1009. 



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 17



Faithful to Gina's command, I bowed. Naked, arms and knees spread, ass arched in presentation, immobile as an ice sculpture but for shallow, shivering breaths I could not quiet, I kissed Anna's floor. The chilled chain hooked to my bound testicles ran up though my buttocks and slithered down the supplicant bend of my spine. I did not dare look up, not even to catch a last glimpse of my sun, my Gina, abandoning me to the darkening tyranny of Goddess Anna's strict male correction regime. 

I caught fragments of Gina's goodbye. "Do I love him? It is true that I have feelings for him...beat him, hurt him, and abuse him...knowing what you are doing...enjoying myself freely... think of him as thoroughly debased...love him...ready to whip him without mercy; ready to love him..." Love him, love him, love him—joy.

Whips—love. Abuse, pain—love. A clanging, tumultuous discord rang through my head, "Gina said she might allow herself to love me. Heaven. I am to be beaten and abused, but all for Gina. Heaven. Anna will send me back to Gina when she's done with me and Gina will whip me without mercy...but love me? Still heaven. Gina, please beat me; please use the whip if that is what takes to win your love. Show no mercy, waste no pity, but Gina, please love me." Bells pealed. My head hurt.

"I will report our progress to Ashley." 

"Gina will report to Ashley? That bitch of a boss sent me to this 'counseling' to cure, really punish, what she had declared was predatory sexual harassment. The bitch claimed I raped my secretary Maria. Rape? I didn't even fuck her. The girl begged me to suck her cunt, and so I did. But no one listened, and how could I explain to Gina. She laughed then screamed at me when I tried, and why shouldn't she? Could I say, 'Gina, I just went down on the girl because she had asked me to eat out her pussy? You know, just to be polite, just to check it out, just a taste. No big deal.' Right? Wrong. Ding, dong.

"Still, Ashley and that weird lawyer of hers had made it all look inexcusable. Ok, I so owed some recompense because I had been bad. Counseling should be no big deal, right? But whipping, what kind of therapy was that? And it hadn't occurred to me that Gina might report to my bitch-boss on the details of my "cure" or that she would leave me behind in the hands of, what did she call herself, a couples counselor? Anna, a therapist? No way, but what was she?" Ringing bells, fucking bells, bells, bells, bells—all in my head, fantastic ringing too harrowing to be true.

"Anna, Ashley, and Gina, were they all in this together? What would Gina report, and why? 'Today I handed Eric over to Anna to be whipped into shape. She will turn him into the most submissive male imaginable. We tied up his cock and balls, and filmed him kneeling on the floor naked, signing his life away. He agreed to be whipped, branded, and, well you know, all the usual stuff.' I imagined the girls sitting around having a giggle about the humiliation and destruction of Eric." The clapper of my stupidity banged in my throbbing head.

The goodbyes ended with an embrace, Gina hand me down to Anna, and the door closed. The door closed on everything I had been; the door closed on mercy. Could this hell become heaven? I closed my eyes and opened myself to Anna's merciless instruction. I knelt submissive, silent, and still as a slab of ice, posed per Gina's command. I awaited Anna. Heels clicked on the wooden floor proclaiming her approach. Fear and regret—the tension rang from my head through my gut as if on a wire run from my testicles to my dry, voiceless throat. 

A coven of women were talking about me behind my back, laughing, and conniving. It was no longer just Gina, my love, but Anna, Ashley, Claudia, and who knew what strangers were in on the joke—even Shyanne? "Guess what we did to Eric today. Oh, you should have seen the cunt sucker squirm. We made him cry; it was so funny." Anna drew near.

Betrayal, humiliation, and guilt, the harmonic reverberation of emotional tones played a mocking lament for the lost man I had been and a fanfare for the slave I was to become. There was no way out; so let it be. "Let the women talk; let the girls laugh; let the entire feminine world use me to restore their womanly pride and remedy the slights and offenses suffered at the hands and cocks of men. I mean to be their balm. What I was is lost; let me become what I am to be—Gina's slave and whipping boy to be shared with all the world's aggravated, irate women. And Gina said she might love me. I am in heaven."

The rhythmic saunter of tapping heels closed. The prelude concluded with an interlude of silence. A gust of Anna's strangely scented cloud blew over me like an impending storm front. She took my chain, gripped it close, and jerked as if to hang me by my balls. The symphony's exposition commenced.

"And now to begin. Gina has made an excellent start. The truth is she is as expert as I am at constructing a slave. You are such outstanding raw material. You're pretty, handsome is not a word that befits a slave; deserving, the awful ways you've used women; but malleable, you're utterly sex-mad. Your lust may seem unruly to the weak girl, but your ever-ready cock is just a handy control knob for the sensible woman. I could conquer the most protected man, but your sex-crazed nature has left the back gate wide open. All you need is polishing up.

"We'll start with the whip. Gina has set up several video cameras by the whipping bench on the dais to record the proceedings. Go, put on the wrist and ankle shackles, and wait while I change into something more appropriate for man beating. I will chain you to the whipping bench for this introduction, but for future beatings, you will be expected to submit restrained only by your desire to acquiesce. And you will acquiesce; you may even learn to enjoy being whipped. Go." 

Anna let lose my chain. Her heels clicked away. I kissed the cold wooden floor to thank my female tormentors for their generous attention. I kissed my old existence goodbye.

Chains lay upon the whipping bench, a simple steel and slate table set upon a raised platform. I sat dejectedly on the cold slate and listlessly affixed shackles to my wrists and ankles. I was so alone. Locks snapped shut and chains clattered on the cold stone tabletop. I was frozen to the core, but what right did I have to warmth? The whip—Gina had inflicted deep pain when she took my balls between her teeth and gnawed on me, but the whip? I didn't know if I could take that pain. On the other hand, once I let Anna chain me in place it wouldn't matter whether I could take it; I would get what Anna gave. I still could have run away, naked and in irons, but free. I didn't, and so what was to come, I deserved. 

Anna returned wearing slick black riding pants tucked into calf length, flat-heeled boots. She didn't wear a top. The obscene allure of Anna's bare breasted saunter across the room blended into my anxiety and my cock again swelled against its cage. The accumulated pressure of three weeks of orgasm denial and constantly blocked arousal bore down on me. 

Anna slapped a riding crop against her boot with each jaunty step. She approached like a highborn Lady off for an afternoon trot on her stallion, except, m'lady had forgotten to put on her riding blouse. Anna's casual display of her bare breasts seemed as natural and nonchalant as the artless flaunt of a naked cannibal girl off to market to fetch the evening meal. 

Anna's breasts were not as large as I had imagined from the intimations enfolded in the white lace of her dress, but they were full, and perfectly formed. Anna was a well-preserved, mature woman, and the moderate heft of her breasts hung with the slightest sag. I thought of tropical fruits swinging in white sacks, sweet and succulent. Her nipples were slightly indented and encircled by large, round aureoles the color of a peach. Anna's tits swayed as she approached, she smiled brightly, and her thick, blushing tresses bounced a cheery dance.

Anna reached up to brush her hair from her glowing face. Following the smooth lifting of her graceful arms her breasts bulged and swung. Their fullness quivered in sympathy with the shifting articulation of the fine bones underlying her silky shoulders. Anna shook her head giving her dense curls a tumbling toss. Her mane cascaded down her bare back in rippling eddies. My lustful staring shamed me, endangered me, but I could not cast down my gaze.

"So you are ready for me my dear. Turn over and lie face down; I want to do your backside first. Extend your arms and legs to the corners so that I can chain your shackles to the table. Ah, you are such a good boy." Locks snapped. "There, that's nice and tight. Now you might struggle, but chained like this, succulent targets will always be easily available. It's ok to struggle; it's ok to scream. No one can hear you so don't be bashful. Sing for me; sing loud. I want you to react as if you were a normal man being whipped by a woman. I intend to beat that remnant of a normal man out of you. Next time you will be silent." 

I obeyed. I offered my body to Anna. Chained down resistance would be impossible, just ludicrous, futile thrashing. I aspired to give, not resist. 

The whipping bench, an ordinary coffee table constructed of black steel with a slate top, was a prosaic exception to the opulence of the rest of Anna's furnishings. I imagined how ordinary people might gather around just such a table for ordinary conversation, ordinary entertainment, and ordinary hors d'oeuvres and treats laid upon the table. "Darling, try some chilled man slave. It is quite delicious, especially when whipped until stiff." The cold slate sucked heat from my naked skin.

Anna stood over me savoring my fear and defenselessness, appraising my bound body, and considering where to begin. She gently wiped her crop across my back, my ass and the tender backs of my knees. Passion thickened her voice, "Oh, how I love this moment. To give a man his first taste of the whip. I can smell your fear. You have every reason the tremble like that. Did I say the whip was nothing; that you would learn to love it? I lied. The pain is intense, each time the pain will be scarcely bearable. However, you will come to accept it. You will accept it only because you will come to appreciate that your suffering pleases me as it will please all of your feminine rulers.

"But this first time will be unacceptable, unbearable, thus the chains. Only chains could force you to endure. In time, you will take the whip in silence if so commanded. But you will not be still this first time. That's good. I love the song of a screaming man. Up here in my soundproof home so high above the city, no one but I will hear, so scream, scream loud. Please, don't hold back. 

"And I have seen you holding back tears tonight. You try to be such a manly man, brave and strong; you won't cry in front of the girls. No more. You will not be able to hold back after the whip strikes. So don't try. I love making men cry. Please, indulge me. Cry, bawl, whimper; make me happy. Sing for me.

"You have a nice body. You liked it when girls were nice to your body, didn't you? You liked making all those nice girls do dirty things for you, didn't you? You liked sticking your big bad filthy cock into all those cute faces and pretty pussies, down all those adorable throats and wet willing cunts, and filling all those nice girls, those sweet girls, those innocent girls, with your man slime. Those were girls; I am a woman. Now the bill comes due. Now you will pay with nice welts, pretty bruises, and cute cuts. Yes, I also love making men bleed. I am not one of your sweet dream girls; I am your nightmare woman, your bitch goddess. 

"And so to begin. I could start slowly to let you acclimate to the sting of the whip, but you don't deserve that courtesy. Kiss the crop, kiss the implement of your torture, and we will begin. Good boy. This will be filmed, one moment." 

Anna turned on camera lights. Brilliant light and deceptively soothing warmth washed over my clammy body. With a whoosh, Anna's crop tested the resistance of air. With regret, I realized my resistance to Gina and Anna had been less substantial than that air. Anna stroked my cheek with the flat end of her crop; my submissive need kissed it. Horrified, realization of I had done to myself set panic galloping, I bolted, but Anna's chains pulled back as if a horse's bit reining in my body. I looked back over my shoulder in a last desperate appeal for mercy.

Anna had raised the riding crop high over her head flexing it into a bow, testing its spring and strength. The tension revealed menacing strength in her sinuous arms. My desperation caught Anna's eye. Momentarily she posed, smiling broadly, her crop coiled for action. Anna's eyes laughed into the eyes of a man drained of hope but awash with yearning for her half naked body. She was flattered yet pleased to punish that lust. She knew no man could resist her charms, but she also knew only pain could compel fitting respect for any female from any male. 

Then Anna bared her teeth in anger, her breasts bobbled, her hair floated, and she swung with all her strength. The crop pounced. The piercing crack of impact recalled unseasoned wood popping in a blazing hearth as the fire took hold. 

The inevitable consequence of that explosion struck with full intensity after a slight delay. A scream followed with yet another momentary lag. Shocking pain paralyzed my voice as it stunned the whole of me for an enduring instant. The scream that ripped through the air didn't seem to be mine. The body ripped by pain didn't seem to be mine. The pain cleaved me from me; the scream was but the first piece to fly apart. The remaining pieces of me cowered in a jumpy heap of panic. 

Anna let the moment ripen. The scream died in the rarified atmosphere of Anna's aerie high over the city. Taut stillness charged the space. When Anna deemed the vintage done, she decanted her pleasure. She sucked a deep breath, her crop whistled through the charged air, and Anna's reign began in earnest. I fell from my precarious remove into a caldron of screaming pain.

I wailed. The world became a rolling storm raining fiery hurt. I was possessed, devastated, swallowed. I wailed. All was whip, all hurt; Anna controlled all, even time—crack, tick; pain, tock; scream, tick; pain, tock. The pain would not end; the pain could not die; time had been transcended. Fast, furious, and enraged, Anna struck blow upon blow, brutal and zealous, up and down the whole backside of my body, her playground of flesh. Anna abandoned herself to a wild sadistic reverie.

Yes, I heard the repeated cracks of Anna's crop. My boiling mind grasped that the smacking sound was leather on skin, but no other shard of awareness or splinter of perception could maintain form in the jittering tumult that consumed me. The sound of Anna's slashing crop floated like froth upon the scorching, searing, boil of pain filling me, engorging me, engulfing me, and blotting out all else. She cut my illusion of personal identity to ribbons. My ego, once a clear pane on the world, was now opaque with crazy cracks and faults. Pieces were blown apart. Anna beat me; she beat me with a fervently driven wicked ecstasy. I suffered; she delighted. Anna beat me until her arm tired. 

Throughout I sang to her. Well not I, but some demon that had hijacked my voice shrieked a faithful devotional hymn to its pain deity. 

Suddenly, Anna stopped time's metronome. She paused, panting rhythmically, "Good, finally a bit of blood. Taste." Anna wiped the flat end of her crop across the burning flesh and offered it to the gasping mouth. The mouth took the crop and sucked drops of blood from it. "It's been a while since I had an orgasm just from the pure joy of beating a man. Continue to behave and I will let you attempt to do as well with your tongue." Anna knelt beside the heaving heap of me and picked up the face by its sweat-drenched hair. She looked in the eye and spit into the face. "Would you like to use your tongue? Would fuck face like to eat some pussy? Be good and that delight will be yours. 

"Now the other side. I like to start with a man's backside because there I feel no need for restraint. But the front has such soft and vulnerable targets, even I feel the need for some limit; it can get messy. I'm going to release your arms to turn you over now. Don't be frightened. I will be gentle with your front; the worst is over. It is important that you remain passive. Anna will be nice to her obedient man. Now the right leg, turn over and we will hook it to the other side; that's a good man. Quiet yourself sweet boy. Now I'll attach the left ankle to the other side. Good, now you can lie face up and watch. Lie back and I will chain your wrists again. There, you are such an obedient boy whore. You must enjoy the crop. After that whipping, and even I must admit it was harsh, after that you so gently, so passively, submitted to being chained and whipped face up. You are a worthy slave.

"I promised to be gentle with your front, so just a soft slap on these worthless man tits. Now one for that cock bound up in its tight little cage. Look at that ball harness. It is so cute the way your balls pop out through the leather, a little slap for each. I know Gina told you not to worry about your balls being all tied up like that. She said it was safe. She lied. If you leave them tied too long and too tightly they will just die and fall off.

"I am going to release your cock and balls now. I want to beat them. I promised to be gentle with your front; I lied of course. No, this will be quite rigorous. There, do you feel the blood rushing in and filling your cock and balls. Oh my, look at that cock grow. Gina said you had a big one, but she didn't tell me how thick and hard it gets. It is lovely. It's such a proud rooster begging for attention with its ostentatious display. Most impressive, no wonder all those nice girls liked you so much. Let my crop give this flamboyant bantam some of that attention it's begging for. 

"Oh, don't whimper so. That was just a love tap. See how gentle I can be? This foul, swollen monster needs a few judicious slaps to prepare it to pay the price for its evil conduct. Tell Dr. Anna when it hurts." Anna's riding crop slapped my cock with calibrated, increasing force. 

"I think it is ready now. This will hurt so stay strong, now for a good penis bashing, now justice."

With that, Anna reared back and slashed her crop hard across the sensitive head of my cock. I screamed, jolting against my chains. A slicing anguish cleaved me. I took the shock of the blow, but unlike the blows upon my backside, this pain did not fade after the strike. To my horror, the pain gradually increased, cresting, gnawing. Its talons dug deep and hung on and on. My cock throbbed. I sobbed. Agony danced an insane jig around my mind and frolicked on the grave of hope. 

"See I told you the front was vulnerable. But I did promise restraint. That's enough for your cock today. Already with just one real hit, a lovely purple bruise is blooming." Anna circled, her crop flicked here and there, her eyes fondled my flesh, and I cowered in terror. Her eyes sparkled; her smile danced; Anna was rapt in delight.

"The front is so vulnerable. The cock, the balls, the thin skin of the inner thigh, it is all fragile, even the delicate softness of the inner side of the arms and wrists. Yummy. You are one hot boy. Exposed and defenseless like this, your weakness is a delight. There is another part of your front you probably didn't think I would abuse.

"Your face, your pretty face, it needs to be slapped. You are the kind of man who should have his face slapped, and I am the kind of woman who will do it right. Soft at first, oh I love that look of terror. You didn't think I would whip your face did you? Don't dodge about like that. I could miss and do you real damage. All I want to do is to leave my mark, just one bruise. A little kiss on the cheek. Be still." 




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 17



Anna placed her riding crop on the side of my face. Terror struck me to stone, trembling stone. Her crop slapped my cheek. But, she was just finding her target. In a sudden motion up then down with vicious force, Anna ripped the crop fiercely across my cheek. I gasped and tried to roll away, but was brought short by the chains. A nauseous moan from my gut wrenched my throat. Desolate sobs shook me.

Anna laughed, "Excellent. That left a nice bright red impression of the crop. I am sure that mark will last for weeks, maturing to fine blue black before it fades to yellow. There will be no doubt what it is, an exact silhouette of my crop. Anyone will see that you have had your face slapped with a crop. The imprint is perfectly clear; the portrait of what you are is incontestable. When you are shown in public, what will people think of you? Any woman looking at this face will only see that appalling mark. I hope you won't be too embarrassed.

"That's enough face for today. That was just to give you a taste of how far I will push you. You have done well. Now it is time for your reward. Gina has denied you release for the past three weeks. I will now show you the only way you will be allowed to have orgasms. You may purge your balls of semen only when they are beaten. Lie back and enjoy."

Anna stood between my legs. She scrutinized my throbbing cock and my newly freed balls. She took aim, swung guardedly and connected with a testicle. I screamed, jumped in my chains, and groaned at the jagged, gnawing pain. I was sick; only chains prevented me from doubling over. 

"Oh, that was nothing. These balls are such slippery devils. I must restrain them. This strap will hold them tight so that the evil little devils can't hide from me." Anna looped a long leather thong around my scrotal sack and pulled. In one hand, Anna held the crop, in the other the testicular reins. The leather noose squeezed tightly and stretched my balls to the bottom of my distended scrotum. 

"These fat balls are all mine now. You can squirm and thrash, but I've got you by the balls. All tied up, your jewels are an easy target no matter how you flail about. You seem to like the prospect. Your nasty cock is still rock hard, despite the purple bruise on its swollen head." Anna tugged and my testicle cords stretched tight.

"I am going to beat your balls now. Enjoy. You are allowed to come. This will be your last chance to spill for a long time, so take advantage. You had better get into the thrill of ball beating, because I don't intend to stop until I see your juice is squirting out all over you. I will assist by being firm and unrelenting. Are you ready, sweet boy? Want to come at last?"

With that, Anna drove her crop down on my balls. Terror arced like lightening. My mind sought refugee in unreality, but alit in a hallucinatory painscape. Nothing after that strike could have been real. Deluges of pain, violent delusions, horror-sex fantasies—the bitch Goddess owed me.

She struck. I shrieked. Between my drawn open legs, the bare breasted nightmare was smiling, staring at my crotch. She strained pulling against the leather strap to raise my balls up and away from my body. She licked her lips, stared intently at my scrotum, and took careful aim. Her smile transmuted to glazed lust. 

Strike. Repeat. Fury. Repeat. The specter-women wielded her crop like a jockey flailing her thoroughbred to the finish. My hips bucked a jerking staccato rhythm. Rise, collapse, drive, fail. I thrashed about, wrenching my bound wrists and ankles, but in her hands my manhood was an easy target. She held my balls firmly by the strap and gleefully pounded my balls. Pain screeched a devotional hymn.

I fucked the empty air. My cock flailed about seeking the cunt of the invisible ghoul riding me, my pain banshee. The gnaw in my testicles was like my torture in Gina's mouth, between Gina's teeth, but sharper, harder, more violent, and with each stinging slap of leather on scrotal skin the ache was embossed, inlayed, embedded deeper within. This could not be real.

I rose humping the air, straining against Anna's leash, opening to the severe battering of my groin. The cords within my scrotum suffered a jerky tension between my involuntary, spasmodic twisting and Anna's firm hand on the leather leash clasped to my bound balls. I feared this tension might break me, but I still raised my hips and pulled back against the pressure of Anna's hand. Finally, I opened my knees wide to invite the crop, to beg for more. 

The pain transmuted to the purest pleasure, and I released into its maw. Ropes of semen flew into the air. Thick, copious goo weeks accumulated, emptied into the air and plopped in streams on my face, my torso, and into viscous puddles all over the whipping table. My vessel spilled its offering upon Anna's alter.

Anna relented, and the pain slowly ebbed to ache. 



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 18



Eric: Let the Healing Begin

It was to be a long cold night, with flashes of searing anger. When Gina picked Eric up at the company loading dock, all she said was "Get in." She said nothing at all driving him home.

Eric was driven to talk, to explain, and to lie. He denied that he had sexually harassed his secretary, claimed the whole thing was a misunderstanding, and even denied he had been fired. These were not quite lies, more misconstructions. He'd only been suspended pending discharge. He skipped the part about the cunt diving, which was left an unspecified misunderstanding. After all, how could obliging the girl's request to lick her pussy be sexual harassment? Everything would be ok.

Gina responded with wordless sidelong smirks, and nothing more. When Eric's excuses petered out, icy silence set in. The second thing Gina said was as they enter Eric's condo. "You stink. Shower." 

When Eric returned wrapped in towel, he attempted a joke to lighten the mood. "Bastard!" Gina screamed and slapped Eric across the cheek. Until that afternoon, a woman had never struck Eric. He was shocked. Even from the diminutive Gina, it hurt. Eric expected tears next, but Gina laughed at him instead. She tore his towel away. Eric was erect again. Gina scornfully mocked Eric's cock, "What a joke."

Then Gina let lose an irate tirade that ended with her laying down the terms of Eric's house arrest. He was not to touch her, he would sleep on the couch, he was not to leave the condo (the company security guards had taken all of his keys), he was to listen, do exactly as he was told, speak only when spoken to, and no sex, in particular no masturbation. 

"No sex, none, you horny cunt eating sicko. What an embarrassment. I had to listen to a lecture from that nauseating lawyer, what's her name, Claudia, telling me that poor Eric must be ill. He must have had an emotional breakdown; we have to help him; he needs medical attention; he needs to heal. Boohoo. What a load of crap. You're just a filthy pervert. I'm going to cure you all right. No sex, no whacking off, none, not even cunt licking for you. You sure as hell will heel when I'm done with you." 

Eric took Gina's harangue in naked silence as his erection disappeared. By the time she was done the last thing Eric wanted was sex. It wasn't until Gina walked out to have drinks with a friend that Eric realized he couldn't think about anything but sex. Eric stared at the walls and waited. He couldn't leave without locking himself out (Gina had taken the spare keys), TV, music, reading, internet, friends on the phone (no time for friends since Gina), not even sports talk radio interested Eric in the least. It was all stupid and boring. All Eric wanted was to eat pussy.

Eric was asleep on the couch when Gina returned in the middle of the night with a tipsy girlfriend. The girl kicked Eric waking him from a dark, erotic dream. "That's the bastard?" Eric awoke staring up the hem of a polyester miniskirt wrapped tightly high on shapely thighs. The Gina's girl was done in Goth, black on black—on skin so white, it seemed a vampire had drained it. Her eyes were black smudges, her lipstick a black stain. Still, she was hot in freaky, whorish rebel sort of way, a goddess of gloom.

She slurred, "Get up and get me a drink, asshole." Eric stood to obey, still half asleep. The drunken stranger looked lustfully down at the raging erection poking against Eric's boxer shorts and laughed. "He's cute." She pulled on the elastic band of Eric's underwear and looked inside, "That's cute too."

Gina, bottle in hand, took the girl's hand and said, "Leave him be, he doesn't get any. He's been a bad, bad boy. He is on the cure. Eric, not word out of you and don't touch that thing. Lie down. Good dog."

"Sweet." Gina's rebel slut showed Eric her ass as she sauntered off to the bedroom with Gina and a bottle of fun. Eric returned to his disturbing sex dreams. 

When morning's light heated, Gina came out of the bedroom with an evil mood. The girl was gone. Had that been a dream? It seemed real, but it fit right in with the weird, sexy nightmares Eric was having. Besides, Gina wasn't bisexual, was she? He did not want that conversation and didn't get it.

Gina said nothing about the girl and instead immediately began berating Eric. She repeated the new rules. Eric was to shut up and obey. No lip. Eric would cook and clean, but he was not permitted to leave the condo even to shop. Gina declared Eric grounded. It was actually house arrest but Gina was enjoying the mode of talking to him like a disobedient child rather than a convicted adult. Gina warned Eric not to waste his time beating off. "Don't even think about touching that peni-weenie. You kissed your secretary's pee pee? Caught, fired? Awful. Pervert." Then Gina showed Eric her ass, walking out and, leaving her contrite, devastated boyfriend home alone.

Gina met Ashley and they went together to the office to check on Ashley's latest experiment in human combination. Ashley bubbled about the merits of alloying Claudia, Attorney-at Law, and plain, over-educated, dried-up scholastic, with Shyanne, the beautiful dropout prostitute. "Maybe they will just explode in my crucible, or, if the chemical valence is just right, they will smolder and fuse into an amorous couple, each dependant on the other to fill some gaping emptiness in their beings. The crippled couple will be obliged to serve me." Gina knew Ashley's affinity for playing with people all too well. Her friend's penchant for creative, bizarre meddling was always a ready source of appalling amusement. 

When they entered Ashley's office, Shyanne was sitting behind Ashley's desk sipping coffee. Shyanne was naked except for thong panties. She was bleary eyed and bedraggled, but beautiful as always. Shyanne started, and leaped out of Ashley's chair. Her firm silicone breasts bounced and her long blonde hair flopped in her face. "Oh, good morning Ashley. I was just, just..." 

"Just lounging behind my desk, I can see. Did you sense the power and authority that sitting in my place confers? Nice isn't it? But I'm not sure I want Shyanne the dirty whore sitting in my chair wearing nothing but her dirty whore's thong. I'll probable have to have it fumigated. Oh relax, Shyanne, I'm just kidding. My doctor checked you out and cleaned you out thoroughly. 

"But speaking of power and authority was Claudia obedient? I assigned you the oh-so-tricky task of giving Claudia her first orgasm. How did that go?"

Ashley brushed Shyanne aside, looked suspiciously at her chair, brushed it off, and took the seat of power. As if a delinquent schoolchild called to explain her homework, Shyanne stood at attention in front of Ashley's desk. Ashley adjusted the hem of her skirt as she ran her eyes over Shyanne's naked body. Shyanne self-consciously tried to cover her bare breasts as she struggled to find her voice. Gina sat off to the side appraising the bashful stripper's body and grinning at outrageous performance of her best buddy. Ashley really could push things to the limit. This Shyanne was a looker, just Eric's type. 

Shyanne fidgeted and stuttered, "Well ah, Ashley, I mean boss, or...ah, b...b...but.... Please f...f.... I mean yeah, yes, I mean like, like, I finally like did it? M...mistress? It took all night, but got her to do it. I sucked awesome orgasms out of her. Really. You should of seen. It took like forever, really, but when she finally cracked, like she was a fucking volcano. Oh, please I am sorry, you told me not to swear. Sorry, I can't kind of like think of like the right words." 

"That's ok Shyanne, you are a filthy whore, with a filthy cunt and a filthy mouth, but we like you just the way you are. We'll deal with the swearing and the sitting in my chair later. Where is the lucky girl?"

Claudia was curled up on the couch sleeping. "It was a long night for her, please, let her sleep. And forgive me for the way she looks. I had to do it. I tried being nice. Really, I sucked her for at least an hour. For a while, I thought that'd do it. But then I started losing her, and my tongue was so tired. I tried finger fucking, but you're right she is a virgin. I guess she'd never even stuck a finger up her cunt. I didn't want to break her; I thought I should save that for you. So I turned her over and finger fucked her ass. Just touching her ass set her off. She got hot. What a dirty mouth for such a tight ass bitch. And she is a real tight ass; I mean like I couldn't get more than two fingers up there.

"But I still couldn't get her to come. Then she started begging to be whipped. I tried to be nice, but it wasn't enough. You told me her fantasy was to be whipped. Of course, you were right; there was just no other way. I only thing I could find to use was a coat hanger. That's why she looks like that. Even with that, it wasn't easy, but I could feel it was coming. I kept at it. I never was much for that brutal sort of sex. I never understood why fucking and sucking weren't good enough. Now I think I kind of get it; at least while I was doing her I was really getting into it. 

"I made her eat me; I made her get me off. She hadn't done that before either, but she must have been dreamed about eating pussy. She was a clumsy cunt sucker, but she was starving for it, and she begged for the coat hanger all the while. She kept swearing and begging for more, 'Harder, harder, hurt me you dirty whore.' The bitch. Call me a whore?

"Whore? She's the one. She'd only stop to beg me to hit her; then she'd dive right back in, all tears and clumsy cunt gobbling. When she started calling me names, she really pissed me off. Who the hell did she think she was calling me a whore when she was the one down there with her tongue up my twat? Fucking lesbian bitch. 

"I always hated those bitches who thought they were so much better than me because they got good grades, because they wouldn't let anyone near their precious pussies, and because they got to go off to college when I went off to the streets of Vegas. F...I mean screw em, I made more money at eighteen than she could have dreamed of and I had fun doing it. She comes at you with all that united women bullshit, but calls me a whore. I hated her, and all of them like her. So I hit her, and it felt so good.

"I guess that's what it took. A cunt in her face, and a totally pissed off whore beating the...stuff out her with a coat hanger. Then she could get off. She came, and she came, and she screamed and she swore, and she came some more. Shit did she go on...sorry again But Ashley you should have heard her squeal. Finally, she just broke down sobbing, and she begged me to forgive her. Look at her, look at those bruises, but she begged me to forgive her. 

"She deserved it, the fucking stuck up shit."

"My, my, such language. We will have to do something about that. But go on." Ashley was grinning from ear to ear. 

"I can't believe I did that to her. But she kept begging for more, begging me to hit harder. She looks so peaceful now, sleeping like a baby. When she finally came, she howled. I hope nobody heard us; the doors were closed. It wasn't my fault. If she had been still, those marks wouldn't be all over like that. If the bitch hadn't begged for more, if she hadn't been so crazy, if she hadn't held out so long, if she hadn't called me those awful names...it...it wouldn't look so bad. If I hadn't hated her, I might have... I'm sorry Claudia. 

"But I had to do it, and she loved it; she was so hot, and she had waited so long. Thirty something years old and she had never come? I was eleven, really eleven years old, and it was so good I kept doing it to myself every night. Oh, look what I did to her. Please Claudia, I am so sorry."

Shyanne knelt beside the sleeping form of Claudia lying quietly on Ashley's office couch, softly kissed the bruised body, and then covered her crimes with a blanket.

"Shyanne you did well. You did her a favor. And thanks for saving that virgin cherry. That's something hard to come by; I will have to think of some special way to break it. As far as whipping her, don't feel bad. She needed that to come; denying herself the things she wanted is why she couldn't come. She will be so grateful she'll agree to anything. She'll get over the bruises, and then we will see how she reacts to more beatings. I'll bet she won't be able to get enough of it. But it could be that the actual pain, not the brutality, the cruelty, and certainly not the spectacle of capitulation, but the tangible, neurological agony might put her off whippings. Not all fantasies are meant to be realized. We will see.

"When we were in college, Gina had a lover who beat her. It was my fault. Gina was into it at first, into the ecstasy of submission and the joy of receiving her lover's punishment. But in the end she decided the real cut of a real belt, the concrete pain, was not for her. For some it is better to give than receive. But Claudia is not Gina. I think this slumbering child will wake and beg for more, more, and then some more. She starved herself too long; no more daydreams for this pain slut. What do you think, Gina?"

"Well Ashley, for me, I prefer to be on top. When Edward was whipping me, the bastard was doing it every day. It hurt. He also was fucking me in the ass, just my ass, and my butt was sore all the time. I have to admit the sweet innocent in me was swept away in lust and love. I thought about Edward constantly. But would a little cunt fucking have been too much to ask for? Still, I was totally into the submission. I couldn't give enough of myself to him. I was in love, and the worse he treated me, the more I loved him. 

"I loved being used, but I never liked his belt, at least not while it was really happening. I regretted each painful strike, until it stopped. Then I'd dream of more. The memory is still vivid. I'd tell myself, 'Give Gina; give everything to him. He will love you. Take his pain and make him happy. If you let him do anything he will love you.' He hit me, and I thought he loved me. I was in love with the spectacle of being used. I was in love with the spectacle of love. I was in love with hurt. But as much as I wanted Edward to love me, and as much as I wanted him to hit me, I never learned to love actually being hit. I could not love the actual pain as it happened.

"Edward didn't understand that, and finally I understood that he didn't get it. The great professor of everything didn't understand the simple Gina. That was the end of loving him. I couldn't love him because he was just not that smart. He was hollow at the core and I didn't want him any more. When that happened, his belt became pointless pain inflicted by a clumsy pervert. But you saved me and we fixed the bastard. Now that was fun. That was when I learned the proper use for men. And that was when I learned how to laugh. Thank you Ashley.

"As far Claudia goes, everything about her screams slave. My guess is she will love the pain for the pain, and never get enough. Ashley, it was fun doing Edward, don't you think?"

"Yes, that was exquisite, if only because he was such a pretentious jerk, kind of like Claudia. 

"Shyanne, let's discuss what comes next for Claudia. When sleeping beauty awakes, tell her she has work to do, lawyer work. I want her to create documents saying Eric agrees to grant Gina absolute control over his life without reservation. I want something that would hold up in court and that a judge would find reasonable, however unreasonable it actually is—law, the land of deluded justice. I'll leave an outline of the concept. Make her write it sitting naked here at my desk. Put a towel down please.

"Look at her. She is utterly oblivious, knocked out." Ashley lifted the blanket to inspect Shyanne's work. "You really did a job on her. Look at those bruises, what a mess. Maybe it is just that pasty skin of hers, but the way those purple welts raise up is chilling. I didn't have any idea you could be such a vicious, sadistic bitch. I'm proud of you. And the web of bruises is quite artistic; oh, look at that one. Plain Jane never looked sexier. I don't think I could have done better myself.

"When she finishes the Eric papers, when she is completely satisfied that the boy is in an iron clad trap, take the papers and tell her to draw up another set giving herself to me. Claudia will be your project for a while, but make it clear that I'm in charge and that you are following my orders. Claudia will be the slave of my slave.

"I want you to mold her. Exploit her weakness and insecurities, and amplify her submissive tendencies. Go easy on the whip, but threaten her with it. Of course, it could be that she will beg to be beaten. Then withhold it entirely, just promise that if she is good she will be allowed the pleasure the lash soon, maybe tomorrow, maybe next time. Use your judgment; find the best path to lead her down. Down, and down, and down. This sort of thing is an art. You found the way to make her come, now find the way to make her follow, to follow you down. If you need advice call, but looking at what you did to her, I am confident you have the skill set for this work. 

"I want you to turn this pathetic woman into something more interesting and attractive. The first order of business is to shut her up. She is a compulsive, boring gabber. I brought a ball gag. Make her wear it when she works on the papers. Make her wear it day after day so she gets the message. You can remove the gag when she comes to work or if you take her out in public. But tell her to hold her tongue between her teeth to remind herself that no one is interested in anything she has to say. At the right time, we will get her tongue pierced, and then she can wear a stud or a ring as a permanent reminder to shut up. Of course, the gag can come off for pussy eating.

"Claudia is not much to look at, but she not fat or ugly in any grotesque way. She can be improved. Take her to a tanning parlor. Take her to the gym. Buy her new clothes. She will never be a feminine beauty like you, but we can make her into something that will turn heads. She has a big, thick peasant's body; we can use that. I want to put muscles on those bones. Part of Claudia's problem is that she was never comfortable being a girl. We'll fix that by making her into a muscle-man-girl, an aggressive-submissive, self-loathing freak. I'll leave my doctor's card. Get a prescription for hormones. Hormones tend to make the patient aggressive, so Shyanne, it is up to you to control her with an iron fist. Make her pump iron. If you do it right, Claudia will become a real special showgirl. It's going to be a bucking bronco ride, so ride her cowgirl.

"Once her body is taking on some shape, we'll finish her off with cosmetic surgery. We're going to make this closet dyke fall in love with the bitch goddess she sees in the mirror. Make her eat pussy every day. Make her beat off every day watching her body in the mirror, but be sure she saves that cherry for me. Make her love her new muscles. Don't let her have any cock. 

"She's hot for Eric. Tell her that when she is ready, when she has a body worth looking at, and when she can come at the snap of my fingers, I'll let her use Eric. He will be her first man.

"Thanks Shyanne, you really are wonderful personal assistant. I'm sure you won't disappoint me. Report your progress regularly. Gina and I are off to an art show now. Enjoy."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 19



Schooled by Anna

I woke up sore all over lying on a floor. "What happened? Where am I? Yes, Gina took me to meet Anna. The woman was supposed to be some sort of couples counselor. I guess that was just another of Gina's malicious jokes and more her crazy sex games. That woman is no counselor. Gina left me with the bitch to be chained to a table and whipped. My 'counselor' whipped my balls. Why did I let that happen? Why did that make me come? 

"Gina is tying me into knots. I wake up every morning longing for her, but scared stiff of her next kinky tease. I never thought I could fall this hard for any girl. I never imagined any girl would use me this hard, or that I would like it. I love playing her strange games. But what did I let her do to me now? I'm sore everywhere. This demented sex life is exhilarating, but it's gone way too far.

"Ok. I was with Anna last night. She beat my balls until I came and then I spent hours sucking her pussy. I let that woman beat my balls? What is wrong with me? That's why my balls ache. Sucking for hours, that's why my jaw is so sore. Welts cover my whole backside. Why did I let this happen? What else? Papers, I signed some papers. Did I sign papers to give everything I own to Gina? Please let that be a bad dream. I've got to get the hell out of here."

Stiffly, I sat up. My arms were chained at the elbows behind my back. I was in a woman's bedroom on the floor at the foot of her bed. I looked down between my legs. My penis was locked in a cage and my balls were tightly locked in a iron shackle. A heavy chain led from my balls to a padlock attached to the foot of the bed. Awkwardly, I got to my feet. The chains rattled. An alarmingly weight hung from my scrotum, but somehow the tug was somehow pleasurable, despite the ache from the severe testicle beating of the night before. The bruises on my scrotum were frightening. Out of the blue, my mind's eye saw Gina's face. Then Anna's voice intruded.

"Good morning Eric. Are you admiring your new ball shackle? It becomes you. You were quite good last night. You're a well-trained cunt sucker. Turn around I want to see how the welts on your back have ripened."

Thoughts raced, "What can I do? I am standing here in this strange woman's bedroom naked, chained by my balls to her bed. Last night I let her whip me, defile me, and now she is giving more orders. There must be some way out of here." Self-loathing sprinted out of the pack of racing thoughts, past stumbling panic, lapping fading hope, to victory at the finish line—desolation. 

I stood looking at the beautiful stranger lying in her bed, propped up on her pillows, covers at her waist with breasts exposed. She yawned and stretched. She reached up, ran her fingers through her long hair, and her the bouncy tresses unfurled. A curling locket floated into her face. Her breasts lifted, shifted, and with the slightest giggle settled back to a buoyant loll. With a playful breathe Anna blew the frolicsome ringlet out of her eyes. I stared at the beautiful stranger completely lost as to what do or say. 

She smiled with cheerful condescension. "Eric, darling, please don't be difficult, it's too early in the morning for fussing. Turn around so I can see your back. That's better. Yes, that is lovely; you take the whip well. The welts are turning a lovely blue. That means I whipped you hard enough that your marks will stay with you for a good while. Darker skin such as yours usually requires hard strokes to score the skin well, but it holds the stigmata longer. When the marks fade, it will be necessary to renew them. You wouldn't want that too soon, would you? 

"You have an appealing muscular back that is especially pleasing with your elbows chained tightly together like that. Poor thing, you seem a bit confused. Sometimes it is like that in the morning, especially after a big change in your life. Tell me do your recall why you are here chained to the foot of my bed?"

I flushed, "What is the protocol? Am I still playing the game? How am I to address her—Anna, mam, madam?" I forced words at the beautiful woman commanding me.

"I don't... please...mam? I'm sorry; I don't remember. I mean yeah, sort of, but... well, I think there has been some sort of mistake, a misunderstanding. I know I was with you and Gina last night and I did some things, that is I let you guys do some things, but...well what I'm trying to say is that I don't really think that all this is what I really want. I mean it was fun and all, and I am not saying that I wasn't going along with all that stuff. It was a good time, different and kind of exciting, but today, you know, well it is like a new morning. Maybe we should kind of back off a little and get real if you know what I mean."

Anna laughed at my disoriented rambling, "Oh, I understand, you are having second thoughts. You didn't mean all those things you promised last night. That is perfectly understandable. It happens all the time. It was just a heat of the moment thing, just play acting, fun fantasy, but not really real. You'd like to just say thanks and go home now, now in the clear light of the morning after the long dark night. Well, come over here. Let me see if I have the key to that lock on your balls, so you can be on your way. Come closer; let me look at that thing locked to your balls so I can see which key I need. Oh, those poor balls, such nasty bruises. I have so many ball shackles and harnesses which one is this? Come closer. Let me touch you there. Don't be so nervous, I just want to stroke it. Oh, look your cock is trying to get hard again. Let's release this thing from its cage. That's this key. 

"There. Oh my, another horrible bruise. How on earth did that happen? Let me rub some ointment on it. Do you like that? You have a lovely cock. It gets big and hard so promptly. I guess you like being chained up at the foot of a lady's bed. Are you sure you want to go home and forget it? Do you like it when I slide your cock through my fist like that? Does the balm feel good?"

When Anna released my cock from its prison, the part me that had caused all this trouble sprang to life. My dick was like that in the morning. I usually awoke with a prideful hardon, especially for these past weeks while Gina had been denying me orgasms. Today my cock fought to flaunt its glory, but failed in its new cage. When Anna opened the jail, my manhood leapt into the false freedom of Anna's fist. An ugly purple bruise marked its head and I recalled the vicious blow Anna had administered to the prisoner. Panic reared it ugly head. I had to get away, but I was locked in chains.

Then Anna applied a slick cooling cream to my bruised cock. She ran her hand smoothly up and down the shaft and all the sick fantasies Gina had introduced to me flooded back to my consciousness. Anna's hand was soothing and gentle. I succumbed to her charms too easily. I knew it was wrong, dangerous, but could not resist. I needed more. I was addicted.

"Eric, has it occurred to you that it is a just bit forward to get such a big bad hard-on in front of a lady you barely know? Perhaps you ought to exercise more self-control and show some manners. My my, this is really quite obscene, a big bad cock with a nasty bruise and balls all locked up in an iron shackle. Such a sight. Many women would be quite offended to find a man exposing himself in her bedroom so early in the morning. Some people might even think it criminal. But you are not a criminal are you? You're just a sweet boy who wants to serve his lady, right?

"Let me pull these covers back and show it to you. Look down there between my legs where your face spent the night, buried for hours in that slit right there between my curly pussy hairs. You were so eager to serve last night, but now...."

Anna pulled off her covers, spread her legs, and exposed herself. She reached down and opened the lips of her pussy. She made me look at it. I didn't want to look. I knew I shouldn't. She made me do it; it wasn't my fault.

I had willingly spent hours face fucking that beautiful pussy last night. I had to show off. My tongue strutted its stuff, its skill, strength and endurance. I had proudly displayed my finely honed talent for cunt lapping, learned under the firm hand of my mistress, my personal goddess, my love, my Gina. 

Anna held my cock firmly in her fist and with her thumb lightly massaged the head of my now stiffly engorged cock. She sat up on the edge of her bed and pulled down on my ball chain instructing me to go my knees between her legs. I wilted to my knees. She lay back, lifted and spread her legs. Her pussy glistened inches from my face. It was beautiful. A wave of euphoric rapture washed away all anxiety and doubt. 

"...you want to go; you think it is time to go home. Ok, but just kiss my pussy goodbye. You have permission. Put your lips on it. That's a good boy. Take it into your mouth. Yes, you remember now don't you? I certainly remember that strong tongue working up and down, in and out all night long. You like eating cunt don't you? And you let me beat you black and blue because you like submitting to women as much as you like eating pussy, right?"

I tried, "Yes mistress, It's all true...", but my mouth was glutted with gobs of sex flesh shutting me up. So I nodded my acquiescence like a drooling puppy begging for a bone and dove deep into yet another wave of desire.

"I like having a man on his knees between my legs in the morning. That way I don't have to get out of bed to pee. You can drink it for me. Stay. Don't back off or I will get my crop instead of the key to your balls. I know you're a piss drinker. Gina has told me everything about you. You're a cunt eating, piss drinking, ass licking whore-boy. There is no way out darling. You have no home to go to; you gave your home to Gina. I saw you sign the papers, so there is nowhere for you to go. But you really don't want to leave, do you? Cunt is your home now."

I pressed my face into the warm pool between Anna's thighs, home. My face soaked up her heat, luxuriated in her flavor, and foresaw the thing I could be, the face of my fate. Only the perceptive, sensitive touch of facial skin and the exquisite receptors of my tongue could have known Anna like this. Her essential oils, the molecules of her sex scent, invaded my skin, colonized my head, and closed the brain's thinking apparatus. She opened my consciousness to a deeper, older, inbred root of memory—to unnamable, irresistible impressions of the antecedents of love. I returned to my reptilian self. I bowed to my feminine overlord, kissed the sovereign cunt, and consumed its hallowed drool.

"Now suck my pee hole into your mouth. Are you remembering why you are here and why you are not going anywhere until I send you? Do you remember what you are? Yes darling Eric, you have found your new life, your new home. Show me how happy you are with your new home. I will beat you if make a mess. It is coming now; drink. There's more, swallow. Suck it all up; suck my long morning piss. Drink. That feels so good. I do so love using a man as my toilet. Good boy.

"Now lick it clean. Man tongue is so soft. There, it's nice and clean now. Lean back and admire it. You aren't confused any longer are you? You realize you are not going anywhere without my command. Eric, you just drank my piss straight from my hole. I hope you have the sense to be disgusted with yourself. The point of this is to force you to suppress your natural revulsion and debase yourself for my pleasure. It is not likely a health habit, but it is important that a male demonstrate his willingness to be a woman's toilet. Accept what you are—dirt for women to piss on."

I accepted everything. I swallowed everything. I leaned back, and, through the blear of grateful tears and the smear of sex juice, I gazed into her glistening gash, my everything.

"You must realize that you are no longer capable of directing your own life. No normal man would let a woman do that to him, certainly not a woman he just met. What sort of thing submits to such degradation? Based on that lovelorn look you are giving my pussy, you adore it and you loved drinking my urine. You love kneeling between my legs with your face in my cunt accepting your corruption. Be honest, you do. That means you are nothing more than a perverted cunt-licking slave. Accept it. Love it."

The morning light had dawned. Anna's flood had washed my head clear of distracting delusions and I understood what I was. Looking into Anna's pussy, I knew I was facing my new ruler—cunt, the cunt of this implacable tyrant, and the cunt of any women I was ordered to serve. I realized that any thought of independence was a lost dream. I knew I was trapped, not just by the wiles of these dangerous women, but I was trapped and betrayed by my own insatiable lust and perverted desires. I mourned the loss of the man I had been, but I did not want to be saved.

"Go on, there's more."

I opened my mouth, pressed in, and smeared my face with her precious slickness. My tongue reached deep into her slit and respectfully drew Goddess Anna's piss hole into my mouth. She blessed me with another hot surge. She gushed and I sucked. It was all I could do to gulp down the surging torrent. My cheeks bulged with her copious bounty. I opened my throat and she filled my belly. I took it all with pride; I did not spill; I did not drown. I served. Anna's warmth suffused my gut with its comforting slosh. The flavor of her urine bathed my mouth, and my head swam in the reassuring scent of female. I was sated.

"Thank you, mam. Please forgive me; I had forgotten myself. Of course I am all yours."

"Good. I will leave the shackle and chain attached to your balls as a reminder to you of what you are. I will unlock your arms and unchain you from the bed. Go to the kitchen and make my coffee. Just let your chain drag along the floor. I like the cheerful jingle of a man in chains. 

"I will shower and dress. I'll explain what comes next in your training while I have my coffee. Wait for me on your knees next to the whipping table.

"There is a bathroom by the kitchen if you need it. I let your cock out of its cage to have one last look at it, but it must go back where it belongs. Urinate and it will get soft. Take your cage with you, put your cock back where it belongs, and lock it up. After that, you will have to sit to pee because of the cock cage, but you don't mind, do you? I don't want men walking around in my presence with their dicks hanging out. That would be quite ill-mannered." 

The ball chain dragged behind as I found the kitchen to make Anna's coffee. Then I went to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I was shaken. Across my left cheek was a swollen purple bruise precisely the shape of the flat end of Anna's riding crop. There would be no covering this up, no make up or dark glasses to hide behind, and no doubt exactly what this mark said about me. I could not go anywhere without it being clearer than the nose on my face that I had been brutally whipped. I turned to examine my back. Up and down from my shoulders to my calves was a thicket of welts. Now I knew what Anna had been admiring. Now I did not want to leave Anna's home. Were I to go out into the public, the slightest glance would expose my disgrace.

I urinated and my erection on diminished. I stuffed my cock into its cage quickly before it could swell again. I locked it all in place by the leather straps that held the cage tight against my body. My cock was again a pathetic three inches painfully squeezed into its tiny cage. Forlornly, but with a servile pride, I went to fetch Anna's coffee.

Anna came out of the bedroom in a housecoat with her hair wrapped up in a towel. She sat, took a sip of her coffee, and looked me up and down. "Eric, the essence of being a woman's slave really has much less to do with pain than with willing submission. However, I have found that corporal punishment is indispensable in attaining reflexive submission in men. I use girls occasionally, but I much prefer men.

"Unfortunately, too many women are naturally inclined to slavery; girls are just too easy. Men are innately resistant, which is more interesting. But with males pain is absolutely required to inculcate spontaneous obedience. Besides, I prefer men for the pure enjoyment of inflicting pain. There's a special fulfilling quality about the howling of a man getting his balls beaten. Felling the male ego is more satisfying. The routine submission of girls is tedious habit; the collapse of a male is exhilarating.

"In males pain is essential to instill fear, respect and reflexive deference toward women. No matter how submissively inclined, males must absorb repeated, harsh whipping to suppress their natural inclination to think only of the gratification of their cocks. Therefore, the first order of business will be to teach you to accept routine pain at the hands of women. You need to be whipped each morning and each evening, mechanically, not just as part of some sex drama, but as a mater of routine. This sort of everyday work does not interest me, but it must be done.

"And so I will be sending you to a woman who specializes in this sort of thing. Also, while you have a very nice body, we will carve the more sculpted form desired in a male slave. This woman will start you on a weight-training program to improve your body. Phase two of your training will continue the body and mind sculpting but focus on submission to multiple women. You will learn to adapt to the idiosyncratic needs of a wide range of women. Phase three will depend on your progress and how Gina would like to use you in the end. She may want to keep you as a personal slave, or use you as a commercial product, renting you out for the revenue. She may just give you away. Gina is undecided at this time.

"Gina wants an ongoing video record of your progress for what she calls performance art. We videotaped yesterday's performance, and now I would like to make a record of the morning after. It can be most interesting the way bruises ripen. Gina set up cameras around the whipping table, so please get up on the table and say a few words about what has been done to you so far. Get up there while I adjust the lights."

I climbed up on the low table where Anna had chained me the night before. Mementos of the violence Anna had inflicted upon me scored my body and shredded my mind; yesterday's trauma ripped commonplace self-confidence apart. I recalled Anna bringing the crop down on my crotch, beating my ball sack over and over. I recalled how I had opened my knees and raised my hips to offer myself to her torture. The call of pain, of pleasure, and of consuming desire permeated my thoughts. Anna sloshed in my gut. I was numb to the now.

Anna spoke at me. "Listen. I said put your hands up behind your head. Bow to the camera. Turn slowly so that the viewers can see your welts. Now look into the camera and tell everybody why you let me do that to you. Don't mention my name."

"I let Mistress... this Goddess do this to make me a better slave. The woman I love gave me to this woman to be improved. I will do anything for her. If the Goddess can turn me into something tolerable, a man more respectful of women, I will be indebted. I wear these bruises as a badge of pride. I hope to prove worthy of being her personal slave. 

"Gina, please, don't send me away; let me come back to you. I will do as I am told. I will be a slave to be proud of. Gina, I will take anything you wish to lay upon me. I will be whatever you wish me to be." 

"Pick up your scrotum chain and hold it out to our viewers. Let them examine your ball sack. Tell our viewers why your balls are bruised."

"The Goddess whipped me on my balls and allowed me to release. She says the only time I am permitted orgasms is when a woman whips my balls. Gina had denied me for weeks. The Goddess allowed the honor, and that is why my scrotum is black and blue. Thank you my Goddess."




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 19



The lights went out.

"Very good, Eric. You can step down now. Here is the card of the woman who will take charge of you. Corinna has little use for men, so don't think you can charm her with your good looks. She is really quite hostile toward males so be careful and don't annoy her. She is utterly intolerant of disobedience. She knows the rule on orgasms, so control yourself. If you think her punishments harsh, spill your balls without permission and you will learn what harsh means to Corinna. 

"Let me remove that testicle shackle. There. What you need is something heavier. Stand still; your fidgeting must be cured. This shackle is an iron three pounder, something you can wear under your pants, but with enough weight to keep you constantly aware that your manhood is totally restrained. You will give Corinna these keys to your cock cage and your testicle shackle and this vial. I filled it with the spunk you spilled all over yourself last night. Although Corinna will not have sex with men, she does appreciate giving her cunt a semen message now and then. She believes the only utility of men is that their man-juice rejuvenates her vagina. I am not so sure of that myself, but Corinna believes it, so this gift may ingratiate you to her. She is expecting you; go to her. 

"Your clothes are over there. Take the cab fare, and give any change to Corinna. You may not carry identification, credit cards, or money unless for a specific limited purpose. Again, the purpose of your stay with Corinna is to accustom you to physical abuse. Be a good boy and take it like a man, that is, a man who knows his place in the service of women. Leave me."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 20



Gina: Happy Birthday

Gina lied. The happy babble of the normal kids stuffed into the campus coffeehouse pressured Gina like water on a diver too deep. Gina loathed these anesthetized idiots. Their cheerful eyes accused her, their frivolous mania smothered her, and their oblivious chatter trampled her fragile confidence into the mud of their privileged, inane lives. Their despotic conformism bullied Gina into joining her fellows in condemning the pretentious pervert artiste, the lying little girl, herself.

Gina couldn't face Ashley, but she was surrounded and could not retreat, and so she stared resolutely at tabletop and lied, "No, Edward didn't do anything weird. No nothing kinky. Yes, we go to a hotel and make love, but he is a perfect gentleman." Gina lied badly; her antisocial life had provided little practice in the art of deception. 

Gina and Ashley had made a fetish of honesty. They avowed that their unblinking truthfulness set them above the mundane self-deceived world and bound them together as comrades. Ashley openly admitted she could not tell Gina everything she was up to, but promised she wouldn't lie. Ashley was a genius at deception via strictly constructed truth.

Gina simply lied. These were Edward's instruction; she obeyed. Gina fidgeted uncomfortably in the hard chair in the middle of the student coffeehouse avoiding eyes—laughing eyes, contemptuous eyes, blank eyes, and especially Ashley's loving eyes. Gina stared at the tabletop, blushed with shame, and fought tears.

Gina could not sit still. It wasn't just her lies that made her fidget, or even that she knew her burning face betrayed her deceit. It was her burning ass chafing from Edward's repeated rape over the past two weeks. It had been consensual sex, but Gina had just turned eighteen that day, thus rape under the laws of the commonwealth. To Gina, Edward's crime was a trivial misdemeanor, not a corrupt and deviant felony aggravated by the inequality of power conferred by age, authority, and duty, and by the pure perversion of the act. Gina saw herself as the truly guilty party. She had deceived and seduced the honorable Edward. She concealed her age (liar); she corrupted him (criminal); she loved the things he did to her (pervert). The Voice of Truth testified that the defendant had lusted for each depraved detail.

Gina fretted, "I've betrayed Ashley. I'm a craven liar worse than any of these happy idiots laughing and joking about their stupid lives with their stupid friends. It's my birthday and no one cares or even knows—happy birthday to me. I just lied to the only friend I ever had. I am utterly alone again. Happy birthday to me." 

The renowned Professor hadn't been much interested in Gina's pussy. He only wanted to fuck her where it hurt, and so she let him. That's what he wanted, and so she offered herself, and her ass, up to him. Welts from weeks of beatings Edward had inflicted with his belt striped that beautiful ass. Not one of his many fine designer belts, but a heavy strap he wore only for Gina. 

Gina didn't simply accept this abuse; she loved it. Kinky sex was a thrill, a great adventure. Gina was no prude. Besides, the great Professor couldn't get hard until he had slapped her around a bit. In just two weeks of passionate abandon, Gina had embraced utter submission to the brilliant and beautiful Edward. Gina was desperately in love. She crawled to him, sucked his cock, endured his thrashings, and took him into her bowels. Now she dutifully lied to her only friend, "No, Edward didn't do anything weird. No, I said nothing kinky." 

Edward had said, "Lie." He also told Gina that he could not be seen with her in public because of his engagement to Anna. Gina would have to skulk off alone to the cheap hotel for their secret, sordid trysts. That Edward was embarrassed to be seen with her hurt worse than the beatings or butt fucking. Nevertheless, Edward wanted Gina to hide from the world, and so she did. 

What Gina didn't know was that Anna already knew Edward was fucking Gina. And Edward knew that Anna knew. Ashley knew. Everyone involved knew everything, except young Gina. It all began with Anna. Then Ashley arraigned everything for her. 

After Edward had fucked Gina twice, Anna ordered him to her boudoir where she let him lie to her about the affair one last time. Anna sat serenely peering into her vanity mirror, applying makeup, and ignoring Edward while he lied. Anna admired how the glistening colors in the pools of her eyes meandered from blue to green and through the aqua rainbow between. How rare and lovely her eyes, how the elusive hues flattered her fair complexion. The rosy shimmer of her hair flowed around her face. Anna leaned in close to check her mascara and her silken gown opened about her luridly spread legs. 

All the while Edward stood behind her attempting to explain the unexplainable. Anna checked her lipstick, leaned back, absent-mindedly brushed her hair, and feigned ignoring the garbling lies falling about her like the muttering of drizzling rain. Edward secreted excuses, lies, and flop sweat. Anna patiently let Edward make a fool of himself. Then she confronted him as she leaned in to touch up her eyeliner. Anna didn't even look away from her mirror. "Darling, you are a terrible liar. I know all about the freshman. You really are so predictable." Edward was mortified. Had he lost Anna? Had he lost the game?

Anna finally glanced at Edward's reflection in her mirror. She critically looked him up and down, and at length indulged him with a listless smile. With the forbearance of an adult allowing a bad child to gobble up a second serving of desert, Anna casually granted Edward permission to fuck his student. "Have the girl, I insist. I want my man to be happy. I realize what a slut you are." 

Anna fondled her hairbrush, resisting the temptation to punish Edward immediately. The time was not quite right. She looked back to her image in the looking glass and for the millionth time the uncommon mystery of her eyes surprised her. Anna returned to brushing her lush mane. She was meticulous in her old fashion rituals—a hundred scrupulous strokes of the brush every day, proper order, proper discipline. The panicked Edward looked on in silent confusion. A bead of cold sweat crawled down his back.

Anna finally turned her chair toward Edward. She crossed her legs and adjusted her gown to cover up. She held the hairbrush on her lap, drumming it with her fingers, and set forth her conditions. Edward could fuck the girl. He must keep it quiet. Not a hint of this could reach gossiping lips. No consorting on campus. He was not to breathe a word to Gina or Ashley of her acquiescence to the affair. He must shower thoroughly before returning to Anna.

Anna scolded, "I don't want a scandal over this fling. Do not let the girl in on our secret and don't think I won't find out if you do. I have spies everywhere. Do not discuss any of this with anyone, especially Ashley, understood? She is an innocent child; we must shelter her from this sordid business. Yes, I know Ashley's part in setting you up, but she is just a high-spirited youngster. I will hold her to suitable account upon the appropriate occasion."

Edward was stunned but pleased, bemused but wary. Anna knew Ashley set up the affair? He was uncharacteristically still.

"Trust me darling. I want my love to have everything his heart desires. Go ahead; fuck the girl. I want you to be happy. Just don't lie to me and keep it quiet. Now you may thank me." 

Anna pulled her robe back exposing her legs. She took a sip of tea, uncrossed her legs, and leaned back in her chair. Anna opened her thighs and displayed the lips of her cunt. Edward stared at it. It seemed to smile back at him. "Go on; don't just stand there with that stupid look on your face. Thank me properly. Get your face in it. That's a good man. You're learning." 

Edward bowed to his beloved's wishes and accepted everything. He didn't ask questions. After all, his betrothed was allowing him to get laid by a beautiful young girl. Edward was suspicious of course, but what more could a man ask for? His fiancée was directing him to fuck the girl. He laughed to himself, "Ok, if you insist darling, anything for you. But had Ashley betrayed him to Anna? And Ashley an innocent child? Oh well." 

His lips hovered under Anna's cunt. Edward would do as he was bidden. He would orally massage Anna's genitalia, not his style but ok. And he would fuck the pretty girl, lucky Edward. However, Edward was just getting to know his beloved, so he foolishly ignored Anna's final command issued just as he grid himself to tongue his fiancée's vulva, "But nothing kinky with the girl."

The problem was that Edward loved dominating young women. He needed it kinky. He could not dominate Anna, so Gina would be the perfect outlet. The girl surrendered so quickly and completely he could not resist. Besides, Edward had already fucked Gina in the ass. Was that over the line? Did that qualify as "kinky"? He had already slapped her ass, just love taps, not quite kinky, right? He couldn't back off once started; Edward could not control himself. If no one knew, who got hurt if he beat the girl a bit? So, despite Anna's admonition, Edward used Gina the way he always used young women. He stupidly deluded himself that he could hide all this from Anna and her spy Ashley. 

Edward was desperate to marry the brilliant, beautiful Anna. Edward realized that Anna was more than he could hope for in a wife. It was not just her money, beauty, and academic brilliance, but that Anna accepted that Edward could never be monogamous, and that she promised to accommodate that failing. More, Anna promised she would provide him with women. Her only restriction was that he could only have the women that she gave to him. Anna had shared several of her friends, including her protégé Ashley. Edward was in paradise, but paradise was not enough. 

Shortly after the beginning of the fall term, while doing a threesome, Edward had proposed marriage to Anna, right there with Ashley's slim young body lying naked under the sheets, her face in Anna's pussy. Anna laughed at Edward's proposal, saying, "You like our sex life don't you? You especially like it when I share my girl friends with you. But I think what you like best is my money. You're such a greedy fool. Edward, please don't think you can ever deceive me; I know you for just what you are. There is a lot to despise about you, but you have your redeeming qualities. You want to marry. Yes, Edward I will marry you, but it will be on my terms."

Edward was thrilled. Anna would be his. She had never looked so beautiful, her face flushed with happiness, and she seemed to adore Edward, despite her words of warning. However, the true source of Anna's radiance lay under the sheets. Anna ran her fingers through Ashley's hair and languidly humped her face.

She glowed at Edward, "Yes I will marry you. I must have a prenup of course. You will be the perfect husband I waited so long to have. I will give everything you need and deserve. I will even allow other women; you couldn't live without that. But you may have only those I choose. If I want you to do a friend of mine, you must promise to serve her without complaint. Don't worry darling, I know the kind of women you like; you seem to be happy with my choices so far. Yes, you may be my husband. 

"You must understand that I expect to get my way in all things, and that you will make no such demands upon me. I will be free and not have to account to you for anything—not so you. I will give you a luxurious life, more sex than you can handle, and the pampered lifestyle befitting a top intellectual. You must promise to love, honor and obey. You said you wanted to marry, so that should not be a problem. I will love you. Despite your shortcomings as a man, I do love you Edward. You cut a striking masculine figure, and you will make a fitting consort for me. You do understand that it would be ludicrous for me to pretend to honor you and of course, I will obey no man. Those are my terms. Do you accept?"

Edward the conniving control freak was suspicious, but he did not appreciate the depth of the downside. All he saw was lots of money and lots of sex. He accepted. Throughout this negotiation, Ashley passionately tongued Anna. Anna remained so aloof that Edward almost forgot about the girl under the sheets luxuriating in Anna's sopping heat. Anna climaxed just as Edward said yes. Edward misinterpreted the glaze in Anna's eyes as joy at the prospect of marital bliss. He left the room in triumph to get a bottle of Anna's Champaign to celebrate. Ashley popped up grinning.

"Congratulations Anna. I am so happy for the two of you. That man is perfect for you, so smart, so stupid. Anna, with your permission I'd like to give Edward an engagement present. There's this gorgeous freshman in Edward's Honors Intro class. She's a naive Midwestern girl on an art scholarship, real green. I've had my eye on her and I like what I see. She is perfect for Edward, just what he likes. She's got a crush on Edward, and he's got the hots for her. Let me fix the two of them up."

Anna kissed Ashley. "You are such a considerate girl. What a thoughtful present. Yes, give the freshmen to my Edward. But don't let Edward or the girl know that I know. I want to teach my slut man who is in charge. You spy on them and report to me on what's going between Edward and this girl. I want every juicy detail." 

. 

Edward had mentioned the pretty girl from his class to Ashley, but it was really just a passing fancy. The girl seemed too young and too shy for an affair with the Professor. Ashley checked out the meek girl hiding in the back row of Edward's class. Ashley discovered not a girl, but a woman more beautiful than she had imagined possible. Ashley's intuition insisted this was not mere cosmetic beauty, but a portent of cosmic power. Ashley fell in love. Her devious mind spun. How could she capture this rare thing for herself? How could she free this humble angel from the shackles of banal, common custom weighing down and intimidating the celestial seraphim imprisoned within? Anna would know.

Anna concocted the plan and ordered it done. Ashley coupled the lusting pair. Edward took the bait. He ignored Anna's admonition that he could only have the women that she offered to him. Edward indulged himself and suppressed what he should have realized, that Anna was in on everything. 

Edward thought Ashley's matchmaking perfect. Ashley arraigned things and he didn't have to deal with the adolescent fears of the naive bumpkin. Edward sold himself on the foolish delusion that he had convinced Ashley to lie to Anna. "Ok. We wouldn't want to upset Anna. I couldn't tell her hurtful things." Edward also dismissed as an unimportant afterthought Ashley's final admonishment, "Nothing kinky with my young friend." 

Ashley felt an unfamiliar twinge of guilt in not telling Gina the whole story, but she did not directly lie to her darling Gina, and Gina didn't guess enough to ask the right questions

Edward realized that Gina would make a lousy liar and so he had coached her in the art of half-truths. "When Ashley starts asking about us don't tell her what I do to you. That's none of her business. But don't deny we are having an affair; she would never believe that. Keep it simple. Tell her we just fuck, straight missionary fucking. And make her promise not to tell Anna."

Gina was desperately in love with Edward, he had instructed her to lie about his kinky exploitation, and so Gina lied. Gina was terrified she would lose Edward. The lies mucked her mouth with the taste of ashes.

In this wilderness of multitudinous lies, from a million weeds of deceit, could an overarching forest of truth somehow emerge? Innocent Gina could not see it. She sensed only the hostile eyes of predators watching her from the bush.

"Nothing kinky."

Ashley watched Gina squirm in her chair. Ashley knew Gina's asshole was burning. Ashley knew Edward, and knew what it felt like the day after. Ashley examined her friend. Gina avoided eye contact, squirmed in the coffee house chair as tears welled in her big brown eyes. Ashley guessed that as Gina lied she was thinking about Edward's huge cock splitting open her asshole and driving into her bowels.

"Absolutely nothing weird, Edward is a perfect gentleman. Really, I promise, nothing kinky."

"Ok," Ashley sniffed, "It is just not like him. Edward wants it kinky. Believe me I know. But you are such an innocent. Maybe he is afraid he'll scare away his beautiful chaste new thing. Or maybe he has turned over a new leaf."

"Maybe he likes me and respects me. I have no idea what kinky things he did to you, but he respects me." Gina regretted this the moment she said it. She realized this was just a hollow wish sprouting from the lies put into her mouth by Edward. Edward didn't respect her. He fucked her in the ass, whipped her, and he was engaged to Anna. He made no pretense he would break that off for Gina. Edward clearly liked using Gina, but he didn't like or respect her. The self-absorbed Edward hadn't shown the faintest interest in getting to know the real Gina. If he didn't know who she was, how could he respect her? Edward was flattered and amused by Gina's infatuation, but he requited her devotion with abuse. Worse, Gina had just insulted Ashley.

Ashley hissed, "Just watch yourself girly, that guy will hurt you. I thought you were too cool to fall for that bastard once you got to know him a little. You know he is engaged to Anna. Maybe he is treating you right now, but just wait. He likes to fuck little girls in the ass. He likes to hurt them. Sure, he is can be a lot of fun. He's smart, witty, and gorgeous. Just don't let him get the upper hand, I'm warning you."

"Nothing kinky." Gina lied too loudly. The kids at next table looked up and smirked, as if to say, "Oh, it's just Ashley and her hillbilly reject. The girl was warned." 

Ashley got up and left. Gina felt like crying. She sat in the crowded coffeehouse all alone and miserable in the midst of the cheerful buzz of happy students hanging out with friends. She had just alienated the only friend she had ever had. She was lost head over heels in love with a man way out of her league. All the normal kids were having normal fun, laughing, and talking with buddies about trifling normal stuff. She sat alone, trapped in a perverted affair with an older man who didn't give a shit about her except for fucking her butt. Oh to be oblivious. Her ass burned. 

Gina understood Edward was playing with her like a cat with a mouse. In the end, when the mouse is exhausted from the abuse, when its desperate struggle to survive is no longer amusing, the cat eats and moves on to fresh prey. Gina knew Edward would tire of her struggles, but there was nothing to do except to struggle on. Gina thought, "Happy birthday to me." Gina was eighteen. 

That it was just a matter of time until Edward dumped her made the Gina's few moments with him even more precious. If the only way to win his attention was to offer herself up for abuse, fine. Gina would do anything for seconds of Edward. Gina pretended to like what Edward did to her, and in part, she did. Gina loved the seductive sensation of being possessed and used by Edward, but she hated the acute bite of actual physical pain. The passionate theater of suffering for love was sublime. Gina craved the heartache that swept through her when she looked up into his face, when she could smell him, touch him, taste him—and submit to him. Gina yearned for Edward.

When Edward forced Gina to her knees and drove his cock into her ass, Gina's love bloomed, despite the burning pain. Letting a man drive his cock into her bowels revolted her, but somehow filled a deep need. Gina never felt more completely Edward's object than when his cock painfully split her open, drove deep into her entrails and filled her with its love. She suffered the hurt to luxuriate in the surrender. 




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 20



Gina hated the sting of Edward's belt, but she loved the spectacle of submission and the theater of verbal abuse. Edward called Gina a whore, a bitch, a naughty little girl. He called her cruel, obscene things as he slapped her around, his cock slowly hardening. Gina did penance for crimes she never committed, for sins she couldn't even imagine. Gina loathed herself as much as she worshiped Edward. Gina alternately loved self-loathing, and then loathed herself for loving loathing. Lying was just one more disgusting thing she happily did for love.

Ashley, her only friend walked out leaving Gina alone in bustling coffee house. But maybe it really didn't matter. Gina would be with Edward that night, all night. Under cover of giving a guest lecture out of town, Edward was taking Gina on an overnight trip. Gina thought of the trip as her birthday present. Edward didn't realize it, but it would be his present to her. Gina had not told Edward she only seventeen. "A night with Edward, happy birthday to me."

Gina would have to miss classes. Edward told her she would have to find her way to the other town by herself and hide in the hotel room so that his colleagues wouldn't suspect and gossip. All of that was ok. When he was done with his lecture, and after the cocktail reception, Edward would come to her. Gina would have Edward to herself in a clean, nice hotel room. The joyous idea of hours alone with Edward and waking up in the morning in his bed burned off the fog of her misery and lit Gina's day.

After the day's classes, Gina hurried across the quadrangle back to her dorm going through her mental checklist of things to do, stuff to bring, and clothes to wear. 1) Bus ticket. 2) New nightgown and dress (Edward said he was tired of the blue jeans and tee shirts). 3) Pack (something to read while waiting for Edward). 4) Excuses for absence from classes (more lies). 4) Cash...a hand grabbed her elbow from behind.

"Hey buddy, daydreaming again? Lost in your happy place? I never knew anybody so oblivious to the world around them." Startled, Gina looked up into Ashley's face. "There is a lecture we've just got to go to. Anna's giving a talk on some artifacts she brought back from Mesopotamia. It's revolutionary stuff. We've got to be there."

Gina couldn't speak, but she thought, "I can't do that. I have a bus to catch. Besides, I don't want to be in the same room as that woman. Revolutionary artifacts, what bullshit."

"Gina, meet Anna. Anna, this is my friend Gina. Isn't she pretty? Gina, Anna is the world's greatest anthropological archeologist. I've always known she's the greatest, but with the stuff she's found and is going to announce tonight, the world will agree with me."

"Gina, it is a pleasure to meet you. Ashley has told me so much about you. Your beauty exceeds Ashley's praises. She tells me you are quite the artist. I would so enjoy seeing your work. Please come to my talk. I believe you will find it most enlightening."

Horrified, Gina realized she was walking between Ashley and Anna. Gina looked wanly into the face of the woman she was cheating. Anna was a beautiful, dignified woman with glowing red hair and smooth light skin. She wore the elegant attire of feminine academic aristocracy, a trendy blend of flowery scarves and flowing silk fabric. The obvious expense of Anna's ensemble would have intimidated Gina even if she were not already panicked with guilt from pilfering this eminent woman's man. 

Anna smiled. She captured Gina's eyes in her gaze. Gina's heart stopped beating. She stopped walking. She could not speak. Anna's eyes trapped Gina within a tumbling kaleidoscope of crystalline blue-green beauty, cutting blame, and penetrating insight. A numbing paralysis swept Gina, "Those eyes...what...?"

After a moment balanced on the edge of vertigo, just as Gina thought her guilt had betrayed all her sordid secrets, Ashley rescued her. "Like I told you Anna, Gina's a little shy. Relax Gina; you're with friends. Gina could be a great artist, and artists should let their work speak for them. Actually, Gina has lots of interesting things to tell us, she just needs to get up the courage to say them aloud. I'm working on that, I can get her to talk. Right buddy?"

"I'm sorry. I have to study tonight. Thank you for the invitation to your talk, but I just can't make it."

Ashley pressed, "We will not take no for an answer. Besides, the lecture is in fifteen minutes and we're all already there. You'll have plenty of time for studying. Come on in. We get to walk in with the evening's star. So cool."

As Gina fumbled for excuses, her phone rang. "Hi, this is Edward. Sorry, I've been tied up in meetings all day and I couldn't call earlier. There has been a change in plans. I won't be doing that out of town lecture. Sorry, but the trip's off. We'll do it another time. This academic rat race, you just don't know what a pain in the ass it can be. I'll make it up to you, promise; ok? You aren't mad are you? Good. Look, I'm in a meeting, I've got to go."

"What?" Gina was devastated.

"Sorry, Gina I really can talk here. I am in a meeting and there are colleagues all around."

Gina was on the phone with Edward walking right there at Anna's side. Ashley held her elbow and pulled her along. Anna encouraged Gina, "Please, you must come to my talk. You can sit with Ashley and my fiancé Edward. He was trying to sneak out of town to lecture at another school, but I told him I just would not have that. This talk really is important to me. I am sure you will be fascinated. Gina tells me your art is spookily similar to the subject matter I will be discussing."

Gina's phone continued emitting Edward's mechanical lies, "Gina, believe me, I would do anything to be with you, but this Department meeting is just unavoidable..." Gina hung up.

Edward had betrayed her. That bastard, he just about sent her off on a bus alone to another town to a rendezvous he would miss. What academic rat race? It was more like Anna was running her caged rat on its exercise wheel. Edward had just dismissed her and the trip he had promised like it was nothing. She had bought the bus ticket, the clothes he told her to buy, and she would have been on the bus in an hour. Did he expect that she would spend the night alone in the bus station in the other town? She didn't have any money left for a hotel room. Edward was supposed to cover that.

All the while Ashley was leading Gina into the lecture hall and up to the front row. Anna said, "Gina, this is my fiancé Edward. Edward, meet Ashley's bosom buddy, Gina. Gina, please sit up here with Edward and Ashley."

Edward was ashen. "Gina. Actually, we've met. Gina is in my honors English class. Gina, I didn't know you had an interest in Anthropology."

Anna took her leave, "I have to go. See you after the talk."

Gina was livid. "Well Edward, I guess I didn't have time to mention my interest in Anthropology to you, what with the academic rat race and all." Her anger was curing both her shyness and her infatuation with the renowned Professor. Gina started in a whisper, but drew glances as her voice rose. "Anthropology is an interest of mine. You told me you liked my paper on Chaucer. Remember, the entire point was that his observations were like anthropology; that Chaucer was the world's first anthropologist. As I recall you gave me an A. You must have found something in the paper that interested you, but beyond the A, you made no comments. Do you remember my paper? I'm sure with the academic rat race and all, a simple freshmen paper would not be particularly memorable, but what exactly was it you liked about my paper?" For once in her life, Gina could have gone on forever, but applause for Anna's introduction cut her off. 

"Tonight we are honored with by presence of a most remarkable woman who will share with us her noteworthy findings blah, blah, blah...." 

Gina seethed between clenched teeth, "Get me the fuck out of this mausoleum. Mesopotamian artifacts, who the fuck cares."

Ashley put her hand on Gina's arm. "Stop fidgeting. Be patient. This will be good stuff, promise." 

Edward sat on Gina's other side, pretending to be oblivious to the awkward situation. Under cover of applause for Anna, he whispered to Gina, "Look I'm sorry. I will explain later. You'll understand. Just don't make a scene." He rose to join Anna's acclamation. Gina was the only one still sitting. Edward touched Gina's shoulder, and she jerked away revolted.

People settled into their seats, and Anna began a talk that everyone seemed to find amusing and fascinating. That is everyone except Gina. She was too angry to listen. It all seemed dry as a desiccate mummy. "Those jokes are not funny. Why are these people laughing? Nothing is ever funny. Maybe that is why I can't laugh. There is nothing wrong with me; it's them, they are all just too dumb to see how stupid everything is."

Gina became acutely aware of what odd duck she was, always swimming against the stream. She thought of how she had never laughed; she literally had never laughed. She looked over at Edward. He was laughing and smiling up at Anna, radiant in the spotlight. Gina was sickened. She looked at Ashley. Ashley sensed Gina's glance. "Don't worry. Wait until you see Anna's slides. It could have been you. It could have been you who made these things six thousand years ago."

The lights darkened and Anna dropped a screen to show slides of the early Mesopotamian artifacts she had collected. Gina gasped. A picture of two figurines locked in an embrace flashed onto the screen. The male figure was mounting a female figure from behind. The kneeling female figure's arms appeared to be bound together behind her back. This was six thousand year old bondage pornography. The room was stunned silent. But Gina was staggered; she trembled. These figures were done in a style just like the secret drawings that she had created and destroyed since early adolescence, and similar to the style she surreptitiously incorporated into her seemingly unrepresentative abstract paintings.

Ashley whispered, "See. You don't believe me; don't trust me. It is just like your stuff. Isn't it?" Gina had shown Ashley some of her paintings, but Ashley said little except that she thought it was it was good. Just, "Yeah, I like it." Gina had gotten the distinct impression that Ashley was just being polite and that like everyone else, she didn't see the cryptic erotic content.

Anna showed another slide. This was a male and a female with their heads in each other's crotches; double oral sex. Another slide—a male figure kneeling between the legs of a female, her hands on her large hips looking down on him. Yet another figure—a fat female figure with huge breasts sitting on the face of a male figure and clutching his crotch in one fist. She raised her other arm over her head, but it was broken off at the elbow.

"There are thirty three figurines in varying states of preservation. These statuettes depict a full range of sexual practices and perversions. While I obtained these objects in Israel, where it is still legal to purchase and remove ancient art objects, I have definitively determined their origins to be Mesopotamian, specifically Sumerian. The figurines may have found their way to Israel after the Babylonian exile, but the objects would have been very ancient even then. 

"I believe I have located the original temple site where these objects were created. It is at the lowest excavation level under the ruins of Ur of ancient Sumer. The temple, apparently that of Inanna, queen of heaven, goddess of love, procreation and war, was long ago looted clean. The temple was burned and leveled at least five thousand years ago. It is fortunate that the objects I have shown you were removed or looted, or they likely would have been destroyed with the temple. I attempted to complete a full inventory of the remains. However, political unrest in modern Iraq cut short my efforts. There is little left of the original site except charred shards. Chemical analysis of these shards confirms these erotic figurines were made of the same clay.

"These objects bear a striking resemblance to erotic talismans of the Moche people of ancient Peru. For years the Jesuits suppressed, but did not destroy, the Moche objects. The less objectionable objects are displayed in the Museo de la Nacion in Lima. While the Peruvian objects strongly suggest a common ritualistic link to the Sumerian work, it is difficult to image a possible cultural path from Sumer to Pre-Columbian South America. The Moche erotic objects are about one thousand five hundred years old. The Moche people had no contact with Asia for at least twelve thousand years. Unless one believes in space aliens, there can be no historical link between these sets of objects." 

Gina thought, "Yeah, and how are they connected to the objects in my imagination?"



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 21



"Leave." Anna ordered me to deliver myself up to her subcontractor for male demolition. She used me for her morning rituals, gave me my marching orders, and dismissed me with an ironic smile and a mocking kiss directly on the appalling bruise stamped on my cheek by the slash her crop. Tossed out, I carried bit of cash for the cab, presents for Corinna, and a crushing foreboding. 

I took the elevator to the lobby, approached the uniformed woman manning the desk, and asked her to call a cab. She stared at Anna's mark upon my face. This service woman, who had routinely observed the comings and goings of Anna's, was repulsed. "Wait over there." Obediently I backed away, sat on a chair across the room, and studied the tiling pattern in the floor. 

A sudden gasp started a hissing of rumors. A couple entering the elevator huddled at each other's ear and stared at the shameful blot on my face. The woman peeked around the closing door and whispered something to her man. All I heard was, "Anna...." The door closed. 

"Get out. Your cab's here." The doorwoman wanted me gone. I felt like the lowest thing on earth.

The cabbie turned suspicious when I gave him Corinna's address. He was afraid of Corinna's neighborhood. He did a double take in the mirror. The clear outline of Anna's riding crop in the purple bruise embossed on my cheek shocked him. His regret over picking up this ride imprinted itself just as clearly in his face. It was a silent ride; the cabbie said nothing even when I handed him an overly generous tip. Tires squealed as he left me on the empty sidewalk. 

Corinna's neighborhood had been stylish and affluent in the nineteenth century, it corroded to a dangerous slum in the twentieth century, and now it was a slowly gentrifying haunt of trendy urban pioneers hiding from their neighbors behind security bars. Decline still gnawed. Some of the grand old mansions rising precariously between weedy vacant lots were boarded up, propped up against collapse by the fond dreams of real estate speculators. 

Clumps of guys drank their morning party from paper bags in front of corner liquor stores or huddled around burning garbage cans down alleys just past the reach of prudent cops. A fence of iron spears enclosed Corinna's imposing, three story, meticulously rehabbed mansion and the two adjacent lots cloaked in closely cut, chemically green grass. The austere gray stones rose in memoriam to a long dead robber baron. The city had installed a brass landmark plaque in front. 

At the iron gate, I rang begging entry. The bars opened with a metallic rattle, and I crossed into Corinna's world. The passage swung shut behind and locked with a dull clank. I climbed the wide stone stairs to an ostentatiously carved mahogany entry door. The dark door opened on a dim foyer. Within a youthful African-American woman twisted a finger commanding that I enter.

"Hello. I'm Eric. You must be Corinna."

"No. Miss Corinna isn't home just now, but you've been expected. I've got instructions to prepare you. Give me the change from the cab fare and follow me." I gave her my last bit of money. She smirked, "Miss Corinna said you had something else." Her voice was childlike, but authoritative; her face girlish, but confident, and though she was a black street girl just a bit older than a teenager, she ruled me. I handed over the keys to my cock cage and testicle shackle. 

"Everything." I surrendered the vial of semen I had spewed while chained and flogged on Anna's whipping table. Anna had carefully collected my seed for Corinna to use as a vaginal cream. The girl admired the vial and smiled. "All one shot? My, my, what a boy can do when he is properly cocked and loaded. Miss Corinna will be pleased. Come." 

This young woman had the kind of body unique to rare women of African descent. She was slim, but curvaceous, long limbed, but muscular. She appeared tall only because she was so very slender. Yet, heavy breasts contradicted her sinuous frame, and her powerful ass defied gravity, just as its bulbous allure defied the bias of my lust. Her waist was long and lean. The girl's blue-black, velvet skin was smooth as a child's, her hair was buzz cut, and her African lips were full and succulent. Large, heavily made up eyes shined over high cheekbones. 

The girl wore an ankle length, almost shear, white cotton shift that clung to her extravagant curves. A scarlet sash cinched her tiny waist tightly. On another woman, this dress would have been unremarkable, casual, even utilitarian, but on this unusual girl, it was a sexual provocation. The bright white cotton made her black skin gleam and the limp fabric less covered than embellished her high protruding buttocks. The thin, gauzy weave clung to her massive breasts revealing puckered nipples thick as sweet cherries. 

The girl led me into a gloomy parlor decorated in dark, yet gaudy colors. "Stand." I stood motionless while she looked me up and down as if she were examining livestock. I tried to be discreet, polite, and yet catch glimpses of this sexy, exotic thing. I had never seen such black skin. Her giant tits seemed impossible on such a thin frame, and she appeared so very young. The girl's breasts were dense enough that she needed no bra. Their weight slung low but firm in a heavy, swaying bulge against the light cotton of her dress. Her luscious nipples jutted out, pointing slightly too each side. 

"What are you looking at? Keep your eyes down. It's not proper for a boy to look at a woman's breasts like that. I'll tell Miss Corinna about your insolence. Strip."

I obeyed. Of course, but why? I was torn between the erotic thrill of submitting to the whim of all women, and my self-persevering instinct. I removed my shirt, shoes, and socks. I opened my belt, dropped my pants, and stepped out naked before the alluring stranger. I lowered my eyes as if ashamed of my nakedness, but in fact, I reveled in perverse pride at what Gina had made of me. My cock strapped tightly in its steely cage and my balls hanging in a heavy iron shackle announced my calling—abject servant to any female. The odd sensual tug of the contraptions hanging from my crotch confirmed my new standing in the world of women. 

Was the girl impressed? Was this neophyte surprised or disgusted? No, nothing special, apparently a disgraced male was exactly what she expected. She simply attached a leash to my scrotum shackle and yanked to assure it was fixed firmly. I stood naked in the cool, unfamiliar room, eyes cast down, eager to please. The air was faintly musty like an antique shop, with hints of old-fashion perfumes. I silently implored the girl, "Do you like it? Is my body pleasing to you? Am I sufficiently obedient? Do you like the cage and shackle? You are a beautiful woman; please use me." 

But I simultaneously cross-examined myself, "What are you doing Eric? You have never even met this girl. Just get out of here."

"I can't. I've been stripped naked and I'm obscenely bound in chains. The girl has taken away my clothes. I have no money, no credit card, no ID. It's too late. Besides, where could I go? Gina is in my condo, probably fucking that damn valet."

"Remember stupid it's not your condo, you signed over the deed to her. What is wrong with you?"

"I don't know. What has Gina done to me? How did I let this go so far? This room is cold; I've got goose bumps. What is that girl doing? Why doesn't she say something? She is just walking around looking at me. What does she want? Who the hell is she? I want to go home. Where is that Corinna? What will she do to me?" 

"They told you stupid; she is going to beat you, beat you over and over again."

"I hope Gina would be happy with the way I obey. This is for you, Gina, just for you. Gina you can fuck that boy, just let me suck his come out of you, please. Gina, I liked that, sucking your cunt after you filled it with another boy's come. Isn't that enough? How much more can I give to you? Please Gina, come for me; take me home. When will I see you again? I don't want to be with all of these other women, these strangers. I don't want to be whipped again." 

"What is she doing? What does she expect? Please just say something. Oh no my cock is swelling. Thank you for the cage Anna. My erection might offend the girl; she might think I like this abuse; she might take a hardon as an invitation to insult me worse. Damn cock; don't betray me again. It is trying to get erect. The cage hurts."

The young woman touched my buttocks, fingered my anus, and then ran her hand up my back. She playfully swung the key to my cock cage in front of my face, pretending to hypnotize me. Then she released my penis. It sprang to a full erection. "This is wrong." The girl stared at my cock and ran her tongue over her thick lips. She circled behind. 

I told myself, "Be careful; be still; obey. Let her play with your body like a good slave boy. The girl is reaching between your legs. Spread; accommodate her. She is taking the cock head in her fist, pulling it down. Thrust, show appreciation, but carefully, no insolence."

Her touch was warm, even tender. I enjoyed the slight pain of the wrenching down of my fully engorged cock. She released it, and it sprang back up. "I am a beaten man. Please take me. Put me to use." I had been fired in Anna's forge, hammered to fine temper, and manufactured into an adornment to suit the discerning women. My cock head bore the obscene purple stamp of Anna's crop, but the arrogant shaft was stiff as steel. My face too was stamped with her crop, but only compliance could be found there. "Is the girl pleased?" She hefted my testicles locked in their heavy shackle. She tugged, and then gave them a painful squeeze.

She laughed at me. "I don't know why those women chain cocks up like that. I like big hard cocks. Nice bruise, you proud of yourself? You've got yourself a nice ting-a-ling, and, as far as white boys go, it's not too tiny. Nice whip marks all over you too. Even your face, huh? But, you ain't seen nothing yet. Wait till Corinna lays into you.

"But the best thing's the way you mind. You're so easy, just a quiet, polite slave boy, standing all hushed up like you're told, eyes down and subservient and all, balls all chained up. Nice. I hate demanding men, even when all they're demanding is that they be whipped. 

"You want a treat? You want to look at my tits? I'll let you, but don't you tell Corinna. She would beat me for showing them to you, but she'd whoop you real bad. She don't like men looking at my tits. So take a good look, but don't ever let Corinna catch you looking at them."

She stepped in front of me and unbuttoned the front of her dress. She slipped the dress off her shoulders letting it fall to her waist. Her breasts were amazing. With two hands, she lifted one breast up, bent her head and kissed her nipple. "Did you ever know a girl who could suck her own tits? Miss Corinna likes to watch me do it for her. Would you like to suck them slave boy? I almost never get a chance to have somebody suck them. Corinna says it ain't proper for her to suck me, and she won't let me be with anyone else, not even her girl friends. Corinna makes me suck my own tits and play with my pussy while she watches, but I miss using the mouth of another person. Corinna says she likes my tits big, but she won't let anyone play with them. Don't tell her and I won't tell. Put your face down here between my tits."

I knelt before her, and buried my face between her overwhelming breasts. Her warm flesh was firm but giving. I ran my tongue across her black skin. Her taste was unlike the white women I'd known. Her skin was slightly oily and fragrant as if she had been lying in the sun. I took the full gob of her nipple into my mouth; it thickened. She hugged me tight, and her warmth, at once soft and dense, smothering and sustaining, swallowed my face.

"Suck it. Harder; suck it; squeeze it. Like that? Come on slave boy; work on it. I like it hard. Use your teeth; make it hurt. I said hard! That's it. Bite me. Oh, that's good; it hurts so well. Bite and pull. Is it squirting? I feel the milk letting down. Pull; suck; drink. Yeah, that bitch Corinna makes me use a breast pump to keep them full and big. She makes me milk myself because she wants me big and heavy. But I think it's mostly cus she wants me to look ridiculous. She likes hurting me. They leak all day long. Sop it up. Drink. Harder, pull with your teeth. Hurt me. I said I like it hard. Make me come."

This was very strange. The girl was lactating, and she was using me to milk her. I took her breast like a baby, a mean baby with teeth, and pulled milk from her. Her huge breast stretched; a jet of watery juice filled my mouth; my teeth tore across her nipple. I dove in for more. The girl was breathing heavily now. She wanted it rough, and so I tore at her giant jug. She held me tight. 

"Don't stop, I'm coming, I'm coming." She squealed, shivered, and finally staggered back into a big soft lounge chair. She slung her long black legs over the arms to spread herself open for me. She beckoned, "Get down. Down—between my legs. Get your face in my snatch." 

Curly black hair on blue-black skin framed her shimmering pink slit. I leaned forward on my hands and knees and drove my tongue deep into her slippery hole. There would be no soft lapping foreplay for this girl. I looked up over her mound and saw the girl massaging her nipples, milking herself. Her eyes rolled up; all I saw were the whites of her eyes as if she were having a seizure. Were fireworks bursting in this dream girl's mind, explosions of red, white, and blue? She sucked on her thick lower lip. Her nipples sprayed jets of milk like two fat, giggly fountains. 

I strained to reach deep into her pussy. My tongue fucked the girl with all the expertise Gina had drilled into me and with all the strength Gina's tongue exercises had cultivated. "Gina this is for you. Your trainee, your student, your slave will perform for any woman you choose. I will eat anything you lay before me. I will make you proud of your cunt sucking, tongue-fucking slave."

The girl began to buck against my mouth. Using suction, I held tight against her. Her thick wet cunt lips splayed against my face. I sucked hard, pulled her thickening urethra into my mouth and drove my tongue in to message the special spot on the upper wall of her hole, the place Gina liked best. The girl climaxed. She let out a high-pitched squeal, her hips reared up violently, her clit banged against my nose, and I breathlessly sucked to hold tight. The whole mess moistened, the syrupy juices thinned, and oozed into my mouth. The girl came hard on my cunt serving face, but she was not a gushing wet one. Still, I sipped what could from her sizzling hole. 

After a few breathless moments, the girl pushed my face away. She laid a leg on my shoulder and sunk limply into the big plush chair breathing heavily. She indolently stroked a finger in and out of her cunt hole. I silently stared at her pussy waiting for further direction, thinking, "I hope she liked that; she seems pleased."

After a minute, the girl looked down on me and breathed, "Where does Corinna find boys like you? You suck pussy almost as good as a girl. Remember, don't you tell Corinna a thing about this. She just might cut your balls off. I mean that. She really did that to one evil motherfucker who thought obedience was a joke, so not a word to Corinna. 

You're good. Corinna doesn't let me be sucked often, and never by a man. I like using men, but she won't let me have any. I wonder if that big cock is as good as your tongue—maybe another time.

"Now let's get you ready for her. I would like to do something nice for you, but we don't have time. Corinna would be angry if you weren't ready, and you don't want to see her angry. First let me show you around Corinna's world."

The girl languidly rose from her chair, buttoned up her dress and took me by my ball chain. My dick bobbed up and down as I followed. "This room over here is the work out room. Corinna is totally into fitness. I met her at a club where I was hoping to become a personal trainer. One thing led to another and now I work exclusively for Corinna. She took me in and opened up a whole new world for me—and of course closed off the rest of the world. She calls me her live-in slave girl. 

"For the most part it's great, but sometimes I'd like to get out, if just to get myself a little cock now and then. Corinna truly hates cock, and she won't let me have any even though she knows I like it, the bitch. She is insanely jealous. Sometimes I think she is just insane, period. But Corinna takes care of me and I never liked the idea of getting up every morning and going off to some shit job cleaning up after rich white folks. For the most part, life with her is good. She beats me, but the sick truth is I like that.

"Corinna wants me to work on you. You have a nice trim body, but we can do better. You will eat a perfect diet, but you will eat it from a bowl on the floor like a dog. We will build you into a perfect humbled man, with weights for the body and whips for the mind."

I interrupted, "I don't even know your name. It seems someone has told you everything about me."

"I don't have a name, at least not any more. Corinna told me I didn't deserve a name. She calls me girl, or slave. I hardly ever see any other people so I guess I don't need a name. I am the girl with no name. You can call me Mistress Slave." 

Mistress Slave led me down a long hallway decorated with large oil portraits of long dead plutocrats immortalized within gilded frames. A pervasive gloom overwhelmed the feeble lighting shrouded under thick crystal. The dinning room was huge. The table was a long bare slab of walnut. A massive chandelier emitting a meager murk loomed over the dark sheen of the vigilantly oiled wood. The chairs were exquisite relics of long gone era. In another time, the money kings consumed the spoils of trade at this table. Now the room could have been an antique shop.

"The food came through this door. This was the servant's side in the old days. No more nice woodwork, cornices, and shit. The bedrooms are as tiny as the kitchen is big. 

"This old pantry is now the tanning room. You could use some time in there. White's nice, but a little color will do you good. You'll like the tanning bed; it is very relaxing. Corinna makes me spend forty minutes a day in there. That's partly why I'm so black. Do you like my skin? Back in the hood all the colored kids called me a dirty black nigger because I was so dark. I hated that. I hated myself for being so black. With those mean kids, it was a coffee kettle and black pot thing, but it hurt. I always wanted to be like those lucky light-skinned ones who could almost pass. Corinna could pass. But she makes sure I am black as coal. She makes me bake in that tanning bed till I'm blacker than a shadow on a moonless jungle night. 

"At first I hated it. Corinna was just exaggerating the things I hated most about myself. Like these big tits. When I was eleven they just started getting bigger and bigger. All the other kids laughed at me and called me a big black cow. I was so ashamed. Now Corinna makes me use that breast pump to make them even bigger. They are so heavy I get backaches. But now I love my breasts, I know how special they are, and I can come so easily just by touching them. And I love my skin. I am the blackest girl you will every see. I don't give a fuck what anybody else thinks, that's the way I like it now." 

The girl smiled. Her teeth flashed white, and her huge eyes sparkled. The whites of her eyes blazed out from her blackness. The fragrance of sunshine wafted off her ebony skin. She rubbed her massive breasts through her dress and the fabric moistened around her nipples.




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 21



"Over here is the old household's storeroom; they tossed used up junk in here. That little cot will be your bed. If you are lucky, you will spend the night chained by your balls right there. If you're not lucky, if you misbehave, you will spend the night hung by chains in the cellar. Now down the stairs. You've gotta see Corinna's dungeon." She turned through a dark doorway and descended. 

Mistress Slave led me down a dangerously steep spiral staircase into a dank stone walled cellar dug deep in the earth. Her voluptuous body undulated provocatively as she carefully balanced each step against the twisting decline. I trailed, dragged downward by my scrotum chain and pulled by the alluring roll of her swaying hips. I followed the warm trace of her sunny scent dissolving into the atmosphere of cold damp stone. I could smell the limestone closing in as I submerged into the gloom. The midnight black girl looked back and cautioned, "Watch your step boy." 

Mistress Slave beamed proudly as we bottomed out in the dungeon of the Grand Mistress Corinna. "See all this stuff. We've got that nice X frame to tie you on and lots of different whips, harnesses, shackles, and shit. We've got a winch to lift you when we want to hang you up. Corinna sees lots of generous, paying customers down here. We'll keep you chained up in your closet while we deal with the day-trippers. Those guys would give anything to get the full time attention you're going to get. But if we actually did any of them half as hard as we're going to do you, those wimps would pay absolutely anything to get to go home with their tails still hanging between their legs. Corinna does a special project like you every now and then. We've worked with Anna before. I love beating the fuck out of the same man every day for weeks straight, no holds barred.

"It is time to get you ready for Miss Corinna. Put these leather shackles on your wrists. Good boy, I like the way you help so nice and easy. Now a ball gag. The gag's just for looks; you can scream all you want down here. Buried deep in the ground, it's totally soundproof."

Slave flipped a switch and I was lost in utter darkness. The scratch of a match and the flash of single candle, and the blackness leapt to a dance of flickering negation.

"Now a blindfold. Corinna likes a gagged and blindfolded slave; she says it focuses its attention." Somehow, the blindfold comforted me against the jittery jumps of the lone candle. "A spreader bar for your ankles. Shuffle on over here so I can tie you to the winch, and up you go.

"There, your body looks great stretched out up in the air like that. Don't worry; I won't leave you hanging so long your shoulders get injured. You'll need the use of your shoulders for the bodybuilding we have planned for you. You make quite the sight hung up there like that. I hope Corinna will be pleased.

"What a pretty cock you've got. You must really like being hung up; that cock is hard as a rock. But, we're gonna have to do something about that. That pretty thing's gotta get back in its little cage. Corinna tells me it's not allowed to come, but what else can we do? The shame of it is I really want to swallow a man's come again. That was quite the load in that vial you brought, but Corinna will keep that for herself. I do so love man juice. Mistress Corinna shouldn't hog it all for herself; ain't right. I want my share. Don't you dare tell her. I swear; she'd love any excuse to chop that thing off you. This is our secret, a secret between us slaves."

I hung suspended from the ceiling, gagged and blindfolded. I felt the girl's hands on my hips. I felt her breath on my cock. She was whispering to my cock as if it was a doll; telling it how much she wanted cock, how much she wanted come. Her tongue flitted lightly across the tip. 

"Oh, please she is taking the head into her mouth. I have orders not to come. Control yourself. Don't let her make you spill. They warned you. Oh, that mouth is so soft and wet. She is taking it all the way in. She is pushing it into her throat; she yields so easily. She's swallowing me; she's done this before. This girl's mouth is better than any cunt. This lesbian slave girl knows what she is doing when it comes to cocks. Don't give in; don't come. The girl and Anna both said that that crazy bitch Corinna would castrate you if you spill. Don't come. Anna would be angry, Gina would be disappointed, and who knows what horrible things that Corinna would do. Oh it feels so good; her lips are so thick, her tongue so strong; her throat so soft. Don't come; don't." The girl pulled off my cock.

She whispered, "I liked the way you used your teeth on my tits. The bad part is that you left teeth marks around my nipple. Corinna is sure to notice. I guess I am going to have to tell her you forced yourself on me. I will tell her I had to mark your cock as punishment. I had to get revenge and sink my teeth into your cock. Sorry, I'm gonna have to leave my mark on you."

With that, she took the head of my cock between her teeth and clamped down, but not too hard. She pulled, and slowly scrapped her teeth across the head of my dick. I groaned in anticipation of the coming punishment. When she nipped my pee hole, I gasped at the sudden pain and squeaked a girlish squeal into the ball gag. She opened wide, quickly took my cock to the back of her mouth and gently sunk her teeth in again. She pulled, dragging her teeth firmly down the length of my cock and back onto its head—no pain, only fear. Again, she drove my cock deep to her throat and bit. She milked the thin precome down to the tip of my urethra. With a lap of her tongue and a slurp of those thick lips, she sipped my juice from the vulnerable hole at the end of my cock. 

She let my cock loose and said, "Sorry but I've got to mark you." She again took my cock head between her teeth and clamped down, this time hard, too hard. I screamed into the gag. She bit and shook her head. Fear screamed in the hollow of my soul—fear that the girl would break the skin and rip me apart, fear of how utterly lost I was, and fear of my promised destruction at the hands of these ferocious women. But these expressible terrors were quickly drowned out by waves of simple shrieking animal pain. She held my cock tight in her teeth, pulled and shook just as I had done to her tit, but without any restraint at all. Her teeth tightened. I sobbed.

She suddenly let loose, "Good that's going to show real good tomorrow. Now I want to do something nice for you for being such a passive obedient boy." 

She leaned into my cock again; this time all wet soft lips, tongue and throat. "This is wonderful, too wonderful. Don't come, don't. Her mouth is like a pussy, no better; it's so soft and giving; it works on my cock; it moves; it slides; it insists on its way. It is a pussy with its own intelligence, soft and giving, supple and taking...knowing. It knows me. Oh no she is grabbing my balls. She is seizing my scrotum and pumping me in and out of her mouth—that sweet, wet, generous, insistent, sucking orifice, maw, vortex. I can't. I'm not. It's her. I didn't. Oh, please."

I shook in my chains, clenched my buttocks, thrashed in the air, and pumped into her mouth; no she pumped me. She wrung my testicles. Squeezing hard, she used my balls like a knob to drive my cock into her throat. She sucked it down. I was lost, beyond caring, beyond any vanished daydream of self-possession. I failed. I didn't, I couldn't heed the consequences. I emptied my being into her.



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 22



Eric: Their Target

Shyanne led Claudia into Ashley's office for her weekly report on the Claudia's transformation from a featureless, dull General Counsel into an object of sexual amusement. Claudia wore a grey business suit, a white shirt with starched collar, and a blue tie—perfectly acceptable apparel, office appropriate, perhaps a bit too austere and mannish, but eminently suitable. The style was little changed from her former attire except for better fit and quality—from the waist up. The matching skirt was cut from the same quality material, just not enough of it. It was short, way too short. The skirt was cut above mid thigh accenting the earthy thickness of Claudia's peasant legs and pushing a disturbing fashion trend. The platform heels and fishnet stockings were simply disgraceful.

Ashley was writing a book on the sociology of masks in the contemporary work place. As research, she ordered that Shyanne dress Claudia in manner that progressively pushed the edge of humiliation. Shyanne was to keep notes on the reactions of their co-workers. It was a field study, all in the interest of science.

Claudia still functioned as General Council, which meant she supervised a group of attorneys. These people did not like Claudia at all, but they were ambitious ass kissers who did circus tricks for the loathsome young woman who had taken the job they each thought they deserved. The attorneys begrudged Claudia's special connection with Ashley, the princess in charge of their careers and fortunes, but they were far too sensible to breathe a word to their colleagues of their resentment and distain for Claudia. But to their spouses and lovers they mocked everything about the awkward Claudia—she was an impractical lawyer, she talked too much, she was absurdly boring, her dress was plain to the point of being repulsive and/or comical, and furthermore (what a misfit) she didn't play golf. 

Then something changed. The skirts started getting shorter, the makeup more obvious, and the nauseating feminist lectures stopped. Their boss's boring clothing became weird in a new way. She was showing way too much leg. She also wore too much make up. Was this peculiar geek actually becoming hot in a creepy way? 

And Claudia was utterly distracted. She still talked too much, but now that she wasn't giving intimidating lectures on feminism and progressive politics, everyone finally understood that Claudia's chatter was pure, vacuous nonsense. Claudia was absent a lot, physically and mentally. She was unpredictable. She would call her attorneys together for meetings, and then cancel at the last moment. When she finally did hold a meeting she seemed more interested in showing off her legs than talking about work. It was all they could do to keep a straight face in meetings.

Shyanne led this caricature of an office whore to stand before Ashley. Ashley examined Claudia up and down, smiled, leaned back, and put her legs up on her desk. Besides the ridiculous clothing, Claudia wore the sour look of a petulant child. Shyanne began, "Good morning Ashley. Claudia is making excellent progress. Claudia, say good morning to your boss."

Claudia frowned, shook her head and gave Shyanne a pleading look. "Come now Claudia, I wouldn't want Ashley to get the impression that you are disobedient or stuck up. Turn that frown upside down. Say good morning."

Claudia opened her mouth as if to speak. She winced, and then tried again, "Gu morring."

"That's better. Now show Ashley your new tongue ring."

Claudia grimaced in pain clamping her eyes shut. She leaned forward stiffly from her waist, opened her mouth, and gingerly stuck out her swollen tongue. She winced as a thick silver ring slipped over her teeth to hang from a fresh stab wound at the end of her inflamed tongue. Claudia stood rigid, bent from her waist, and eyes crunched shut. A single tear escaped and ran down her cheek. She held her arms stiff and straight off to her side; her widely spread fingers trembled. Ashley thought she looked like a cartoon whooping crane.

Ashley approved, "Nice pose, hold that Claudia. Shyanne, I think Claudia's ring is entirely fetching. I know you had some doubt about using such a large piece, but isn't it lovely, and it is the perfect way to control her excessive gabbing. She was such a bore. While Claudia stands there posing for us, give me an update."

"Well, I had Claudia's tongue pierced yesterday. It will take a couple of weeks to heal. I can't imagine how she is going to function here at the office, but since you insist, she will try. She is still begging to be allowed a leave of absence. The healing process will slow some aspects of her training, but she is doing well. As you instructed she had been getting a steady diet of my pussy. Until her tongue heals, we will have to lay off that. Claudia really likes eating pussy; she is always begging for more. You can see she is dressing better, well at least more interestingly, no more of that bureaucrat-in-a-sack stuff.

"I took her out to a bar to give her a taste of trawling for guys before the tongue thing. You should have seen her. I dressed her up like a total whore—fetish stockings, heels, big ridiculous falsies, and a short tight dress. For an ugly duckling, she was looking ok; the slut look works on her. We went together and the guys were all over us. I picked out a guy across the room and made Claudia play him for cash. It was funny. The guy kind of liked her whore look, but he was looking for free pussy. He actually bargained her down. I guess I had overestimated Claudia's market value. You should have seen his eyes light up when I met them at the door and told him he was going to get a two for one special. It was kind pathetic the way he tried to ignore Claudia and was all over me. He hurt her feeling, bad boy.

"We got him up to a hotel room and he immediately wanted to fuck me. I told him his deal was with Claudia and so he should romance her while I watched. He was starting to get it that this was going to be something new and different."

Ashley interrupted, "Claudia, you look uncomfortable. Let's all go sit while Shyanne tells me her story." Claudia had dutifully held her pose, bent at the waist, tongue hanging out. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. A little blood was threatening to drip from the heavy ring pulling on the fresh wound. Ashley didn't want it on her floor. Claudia straightened, cautiously took her ring back into her mouth, wiped her tears, and covered her sore mouth. The three women went to the sitting area in Ashley's opulent office. Claudia knelt quietly on the floor at Shyanne's feet as Shyanne continued her report.

"Well I promised to keep Claudia a virgin and this posed some difficulties. The guy threw Claudia down on the bed and tore off her panties. I had to intervene. 'Slow down honey. Let the girl suck your cock.' He was very happy to oblige. I told him Claudia was a trainee and that he and I were going to give her a cock-sucking lesson. This really was Claudia's first cock sucking experience. She was an enthusiastic, if clumsy, student. He and I sat on the bed giving Claudia instructions while she knelt between his legs learning the art of cocksucking. You liked that a lot didn't you Claudia? Which is better honey, eating pussy or sucking cock?"

Claudia struggled to respond. "I wike um bof. Bup I wike you befs."

Ashley smiled and touched Claudia's cheek. "It is so cute the way you talk with your tongue all swollen and pierced. It's much more endearing than that bullshit you used to spew. And since it hurts to talk, you are succinct."

Shyanne continued, "Well this guy was having the time of his life, but Claudia couldn't get him to come. When he started getting bored, I told him it was his turn. I made him go down on me. He was an obliging cunt sucker. Then I made him strip and lie on the bed. I got down between his legs and sucked while Claudia straddled his face. He was really getting into eating cunt. Claudia was so hot she came almost instantly. I told him, 'Darling let's do something a little kinky. Let Claudia tie you up.' He fell for it. By that time, the guy was ready to do anything. Claudia tied his hands behind his back while I sucked his cock. Then we tied his ankles to his wrists. He kept smiling until I kicked him off the bed onto the floor. 

"I told Claudia, 'Ashley wants you to learn a particular attitude toward men. She wants you to treat them like pigs. This guy is what we call hogtied. Show him exactly what he is good for. Squat over his face and piss on him.' 

"The guy suddenly realized his predicament and he started to complain. I guess Claudia has a lot of pent up hostility. She kicked the guy in the mouth and told him to shut the fuck up. Ashley you would have been so proud of your General Counsel. By now, the guy was scared shitless. He just lay there sobbing while Claudia squatted down and pissed all over his head. The vulgar, abusive language Claudia let loose was a real surprise. Your girl has been holding a lot in. We left the guy there tied up and gagged with a note apologizing for the mess saying that he was a rapist who had been given his just deserts. We suggested that housekeeping should give him more of what he deserved and piss on him too. We left a nice tip." 

"Shyanne, that is wonderful. You're doing such a great job. I wasn't sure you got the concept at first, but you really do understand what I want. Good girl. How about the body building, is Claudia responding well?"

"Yeah. She was sore at first. I don't think she has done a physical thing in her life, but she is starting to get some muscle mass. The hormone therapy makes her a little crabby and stupid, but it seems to help with the body. The tanning bed makes everything look better. She has lots of new clothes, sexy stuff. She'll never be a feminine beauty, but she's starting to get that hot muscle girl look. The hormones do make her aggressive, but she naturally directs that hostility toward men, which I think, would make you proud. We're looking into some plastic surgery now that her body is taking on some shape. She had been eating pussy every day. She beats off every day watching herself in the mirror, but she knows not to bust her cherry. She says she wants cock, but I told her she couldn't have any until Eric is ready for her. She likes the idea that he will be her first man." 

"Thank you Shyanne, you're doing a wonderful job. Be sure to save that virgin cherry. Get started on the plastic surgery as soon as possible. I want her presentable in about a month for Eric's coming out party. He is making fast progress too."

"We'll see the surgeon tomorrow to get things going. This whole thing is new to me, but I am beginning to see what you mean about the thrill of dominance. Of course, it helps that I am working on Claudia. She was such an obnoxious, stuck up bitch. I love pushing her around. Thanks Ashley, this is fun. One thing though, excuse me, but I have to know, how was it that you selected Eric for special treatment? There are lots of guys with submissive tendencies. I didn't take Eric to be one of them."

"Oh, Eric was all man, all macho, dominant guy. That challenge was just one more reason to go after him. But we picked him for a more particular reason. You met Anna, she's kind my mentor. I met her when I was in prep school and I choose to go to the college where she teaches. Together we created a secret sorority dedicated to developing a 'vanguard movement of woman to control the world'. If that sounds crazy, well in the beginning we were a little nuts. Eventually we had to admit that the world would do what it will despite the feeble attempts of any pathetic human cabal. Nonetheless, we were determined to control our own lives and our own chunk of the world. The storms of the world might toss us about, but we would surf those waves like no one else. We would have our fun.

"Fun. Freedom and fun. That's the heart of it. And there is nothing more fun than sex, except fucking with people. Most people carry around so much baggage, conflicting agendas, and guilt that the best they can do with their lives is stumble around like a blindfolded blind woman lost in a moonless night. Most people have no hope of controlling their own lives. We tossed all that baggage overboard. The first things we tossed were submission to convention and guilt...and men. That done; people were no longer an annoyance. They were just more toys. We could run amuck in a world filled with toys.

"Anyway, back to Eric. Anna had this bright, but hopelessly fucked up protégé, Veronica. The girl was a mess, real fat and timid. Anna wanted to take this broken toy apart and fix it. It turned out that Veronica was fat because she liked to eat, but she was timid because in high school she had been trapped in an abusive relationship with a handsome, sociopath of a boy, none other than our good friend Eric. We decided it would be fun to find that boy and fuck with him, to teach him to be timid.

"We did some research, and surprise, surprise, the evildoer worked in one of my Daddy's companies. This was just too sweet. Daddy would do anything for Anna, so he stepped aside and gave me the company. Anna had been Daddy's mistress. She's been that special woman to many powerful people. 

When I was in prep school, I visited Daddy and he was seeing this amazing, beautiful red head. I was so jealous, jealous that Daddy was so submissive toward this woman, and jealous that Anna paid more attention to him than I did. She was not just beautiful; she was the smartest, most accomplished woman I had ever met. I wanted Anna's attention and I found a way to get it. Daddy was not too happy about that, but unlike with anything else in his life, in all things Anna, he relinquished control to her. But more about that some other time. Suffice it to say Anna and I became fast friends, and I eventually got the company. Back to Eric.

"Eric had fucked up Veronica back in high school by cruelly misusing her. We came up with a plan to make him pay. Just as Anna was my mentor, Gina was my protégé. She would be the perfect bait to trap Eric. The dashing playboy and an unscrupulous con man was making gobs money for Daddy's defense company. The lying prick was stealing millions from the good taxpayers for Daddy. It'd a shame to lose a moneymaker like Eric, but, se la vies, our games come first.

"You've seen Gina, Eric could resist that. But Anna and I had taught Gina the craft female domination, the art of man control. Gina practiced on Anna's fiancé Edward and since on a series of guileless men. Gina became a skilled dominatrix. Not a whore playing to men's fantasies, not just whips, chains and black boots, but a woman who makes strong men shiver, fall to their knees, and grovel in gratitude for the slightest crumb of notice. Men crawl for a morsel of her contempt. Eric is sort of her postgraduate project.

"Gina is a genius. She's transformed Eric the chauvinist libertine into Eric, woman's boy toy. Now Anna has sent him to a finishing school for some final polishing up. He needs a good dose of the whips, chains and black boots thing. He is beaten every day and is learning to take pain without complaint. Shyanne, you thought he was not submissive, but you should see that cunt licker now. Your playboy stud buddy now is just a girl's eager plaything.

"We're going to have a coming out party for Eric and Claudia soon. Claudia, do you want to break that cherry on Eric? I'll let you, but only if you behave, work hard, and obey. I want you to build that body. I want you to submit to Shyanne. If you are good, you can fuck Eric, bleed all over him, and then whip him. You'd like that; wouldn't you?"

Claudia raised her tearful eyes to Ashley and nodded eagerly. Ashley laughed, "Oh, you poor horny thing. Cat got your tongue? Spread your knees, finger your clit, and beg." 

Dutifully, Ashley's General Counsel reached up under her dress and abused herself for Ashley's entertainment. "Peas mistress Afwee. May I peas fuck Ewic. May I peas bea im; vip im. I wan u hur im. I wan fuck im and hur him; I wan hur all cocksh." 

"Careful not to break into that virgin cherry of yours. Save it for my party. Save it for Eric. That's it; just rub that tiny little clitty. Shyanne, this is fun, isn't it? I'm getting hot. Get down and eat me while I watch my lawyer on her knees finger fucking herself." 

Ashley wore her old school mask. She was scrupulously dressed in proper, traditional business attire—a seersucker jacket, coordinating mid-calf length skirt, a pink blouse, and pearls (large, natural, and triple stranded). She wore an American flag label pin. Ashley took off her wire rim glasses. She didn't need these for a prescription, only for the impersonation of solemn reserve. Ashley hiked her skirt to her waist and through off her plain white cotton panties. She opened her thighs for Shyanne. 

"Slip that whore's tongue up my cunt and make me come. Yes my dear, honor your mistress's quim, cunny, precious love thing. Does my Vegas show whore know all the nice Victorian terms for cunt? Work on the Mons Venus. That means my clit stupid. Oh, this is so civilized—what a stylish way to wile away a morning at the old office."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 23



Bound, gagged and blindfolded, I swung at the end of a chain hung in the darkness of Corinna's dungeon. Corinna's slave girl hungrily sucked my cock. I had been ordered not to come and threatened with the most severe penalty if I did, but I was powerless to resist the girl's charms, not because of the physical restraints, but because I was weak. 

Anna had ordered denial, Slave warned that Corinna might unman me if I disobeyed, and my love, my everything, my Gina, had commanded that I abstain from all orgasms without permission from a woman in authority. But I could not obey. I was weak, pathetic. The girl at my cock held me in her sway. Whatever women took me by the balls, even this insignificant slave, would have whatever she desired of me. I shivered in disgust at my failing, I shudder in fear of the consequences, but driven by an uncontrollable hunger, my hips thrust at her mouth. Hanging in the air suspended by chains, with spineless quivers I shot fitful spurts of sperm into the temptress's soft, wet maw. 

She lingered at the trough, savoring her earthy treat. Her tongue rolled my lolling, sated cock around in her mouth, smearing the thick syrup about. She shamelessly indulged herself, thoroughly appraising the flavor, bouquet, and mouth feel of my man come. Eventually she swallowed and meticulously sucked me clean. She squeezed my testicles and slipped a finger up my ass to milk out the dregs from my spent prostate. She pulled her teeth gently along my length, milking out the last drops of semen.

A gooey thickness gurgled in her whisper, "What a pretty cock, and so full of yummy man juice. This hardon says you like being hung in Corinna's chains. Good, cus you're a nicely hung hunk of man, but very, very bad boy that's gotta be all chained up. And whooped, whooped all over, then whooped again. This is gonna to be fun." She gave my cock a big wet kiss, making lewd smacking sounds as she puckered her plump lips. "Delicious." 

The girl rose and laughed at me. "Your cock is still hard as a rock. Corinna expects it to be locked up in its cage. You better pray this thing shrinks so I can get it back in there before she gets here. Miss Corinna gets real mean if she doesn't get her way. 

"Corinna says you ain't supposed to come. But when I saw that bottle of man goo you brought for her, I just knew I had to get me some. Mistress Corinna shouldn't hog it all for herself. It just ain't right. I so, so love swallowing a man's jissem. It's been way too long without a hit of man stuff. 

"Corinna and her lesbian friends pretend they hate cock, hate everything about men, but not me. Pussy is great, but every girl needs a little, well better a big dick every once and awhile. Very tasty. Remember this is our secret, a secret between us slaves. Don't you dare tell Corinna. I swear she would use any excuse to chop off that thing. She's done it before to more obedient men than you, so keep your mouth shut. Besides, you are not just at Corinna's mercy. I'm the one who's going to do most of the beating, so don't piss me off."

With that, the girl lowered my chains until my feet were on the floor and the pressure was off my shoulders. "You be a good boy and wait here. But then, you don't really have much choice, do you? You ain't a going nowhere." Corinna's slave girl lightly slapped my face, laughed, and left me standing in the dark. I did not hear her leave. For the longest time I thought she was quietly watching me in the darkness. I imagined I heard her breathing, but slowly I realized I must be alone.

Was it hours? Was it sleep? No, I couldn't sleep standing with my arms chained above my head so maybe it was more like a trance. After the longest time soft foot steps unsettled the silence. Gentle fingers stuffed my now shrunken cock back into its steel cage, and then roughly tightened the straps securing my cock prison close to my body. The lock snapped shut. I tried to speak despite the ball gag. There was no response. There was nothing. I didn't hear her leave. Again I deluded myself that I was not alone, that the girl was watching me strung up in the dark.

I thought it was dark. But I was blindfolded so perhaps the even darkness was imagined. Except for my breathing, or when I rattled my chains, it was completely silent. The world fed my mind only the ache of my arms held in chains over my head, the ache of my feet standing on a hard stone floor, and the ache of my bruised and abused cock packed into its cage. 

I tried to amuse myself by rattling my chains, stretching against the restraints, or moaning into my gag, anything to create a sensation to stave off the numbing nothingness into which I was sinking. In that lonely darkness, only the throbbing sensation of the steel cage pressing against my cock purchased relief. I tried to get hard by imagining eating Gina's pussy. I rocked my hips as if to fuck. The steel pressed against my swelling cock. This sensation was pleasant, but I was spent. I could not sustain the engorgement or the fantasy, and slowly I slipped into the murk. My world had shrunk to no more than dark silence, aches, solitary musing on loneness...and time. Somehow in my gloom, even time finally dissolved.

Time awoke with a piercing crack, then searing pain. I jumped to the alarm, stumbled and fell, only to be caught by the chains grasping my wrists. The sudden defeat of my instinctual flight response reproached me for forgetting my place. The winch whirred and my chains yanked me into the air. The jangling laugh of chains mocked my panic, my fear, and my repeated failure to acknowledge and accept the thing these women had made of me—a dirty joke amongst the girls just dangling in the dark.

After the crack of lightening, a storm of blows rained upon me. She swung a heavy leather strap. The deluge moved up, down and across my skin, back to front. I screamed helplessly into the ball gag. I cried like a baby and fruitlessly begged for mercy with inarticulate moans and squeals. These pathetic animal noises simple amused and encouraged the merciless wielder of the weapon. 

She was vicious and silent, quick and angry. This was not the indolent slave girl. Only by her impassioned breathing could I locate her as she circled. The panting quickened as her exertions with the strap increased. It was also simple to locate her gender. My torturer was a woman. Each brutal blow instructed me that I existed only to serve the darkest malice hidden in the female heart. It was my duty and privilege to serve as proxy penitent for all the indignities inflicted by men upon women. It was my honor to receive the justice too long withheld.

Justice had been unmasked. The eyes of Lady Justice blazed scorching retribution and burned through the blindfold unjust men had lashed across her face. It was I, the convicted, the nadir of iniquity, the male, who was blindfolded. Lady Justice hung me in her balance and meted out her fully deserved recompense. I plead guilty, "Thank you Your Honor may I have another." And another and another. Justice. Justice. Justice. "Please Mistress, take more."

But she took too much. These women were too cruel. Blow upon blow of judgment rained down. I wanted my love, "Gina this is for you, only for you, not for these bitches." Again she struck...pain. "Gina you can feed me to—strike, pain, justice—bitches. I hate them. But for—oh, pain—you. Please know I do it—pain, pain, pain—for love...." Time shattered into discontinuous, jagged shards of hurt.

The storm passed. She spoke. "That's better. Slave, do you see how it's slumped into its chains. That's how you do it. When it loses the capacity to stand, it will have lost the will to resist. Lower it to floor. See how it crumples then melts. Good, it's no more than a puddle of male laid low. Keep it gagged and blindfolded, and bring it up to my room. Make it crawl all the way up the stairs."

Corinna's slave girl unchained my wrists and ankles and attached a collar to my neck. "Heel dog. Stay down on your knees and follow. Faster. Come boy, up the stairs." I heard an iron gate clank shut, then and a mechanical whirr. Corinna levitated in an antique elevator cage from her private dungeon to her upper floor boudoir. I labored on my knees up flight after flight of stairs.

Finally, I felt a deep soft carpet beneath my hands and knees. I smelled perfumes and aromatic lady's lotions, and heard a throaty, feminine voice sweet as cotton candy. "Slave, shackle its elbows behind its back. Clip its testicle leash to the pulley chain. Lift and hang it face down. Put some weight into it. That's right, not so much that the balls are ripped off, but let the male hang by its balls just enough so that its face tips to the floor. Excellent, now take off its gag and blindfold. Good, now get your whore's face into my pussy." 

My balls were roughly tugged back through my legs and, with the clicking of a chain through a pulley, my scrotum was pulled up toward the ceiling lifting my hips then knees from the floor and unbalancing me until I fell face first into the floor. My arms were pinned behind my back, my knees were off the floor, and so to relieve the pressure on my balls I strained to balance my weight by arching my back and pushing my face and toes into the plush carpet. Corinna's slave yanked the gag and blindfold straps from my face.

Corinna sat crossed legged on the edge of her bed, her dress riding high on her thighs. I strained to glimpse the face of the evil goddess. But, with my face pressed against the floor, the best I could do was gawk at her red high-heeled pumps, her ogle her long legs shimmering in sleek black stockings held by red garters, peep into the bewitching shadows under the hem of her skirt, and drool. She unfolded her thighs, scooted to the edge of the bed, and hiked her skirt inviting Slave to dine in the furrow of her obscenely exposed cunt. The shimmering black girl eagerly dove into her mistress's hole.

Corinna's voice mellowed to a throaty purr steeled with confident authority. "Eric, look at me. Look me in the eye and receive your instructions." I strained to find Corinna's eyes, but I was hung so awkwardly I couldn't see anything but her wide spread legs grasping her slave's face as it gobbled it only true desire. My balls ached. I was afraid that I would become unbalanced and break my balls like a condemned man shattering his neck in the noose. 

"Poor boy. You seem so high stung. Let me come down to you. See aren't I bighearted. Slave lie face up on the floor so you can eat me while I talk to Eric." Corinna got down from her bed, knelt beside me and tenderly stroked my face. The slave girl quickly followed and lay under her mistress. Corinna lowered her crotch onto Slave's obliging mouth. With effort, at last I could see Corinna. Thick wavy chestnut hair framed her beautiful latté face. Ample lips suggested African blood, but a finely sculpted nose and hazel eyes hinted at European origins. There could be no doubt of Corinna's true heritage, the only true human royalty—the lineage of uncommon female loveliness. 

"I hope you enjoyed your beating because you will receive these beatings several times a day. Slave will administer most your whippings on a schedule I set, but I may personally work on you now and then, if I have the time and the inclination. The point is to break you. Perhaps you think you are already sufficiently broken, adequately obedient. If so, you are mistaken. If you think at all, then you are still flawed. It is your place to accept, not to think. I will take you there. You are a wicked male who will be improved.

"I saw the teeth marks you left on Slave's breasts; that will require payment. I hate men who stare at and lust after women's breasts. Men are such shameless pigs. Men who cannot look at a woman respectfully should not be allowed to raise their eyes above the ground. She offered you her most womanly prize, and you took beastly advantage. You're revolting. This sweet girl is just a child, a pure innocent. But you defiled her; you sullied her magnificent breast and marked her with your teeth. You are a sinful rapist. 

"For this offense your pathetic little man tits shall be clamped in steel teeth until they bleed. We will clamp those sad titties hard enough, and leave the instrument on long enough, that the steel teeth will leave permanent scars. These marks will be appropriate recompense for your crime. Thence forth each time you look at a woman's breasts you will think of the marks on your useless, atrophied tits, remember the pain, and be mindful of the fitting manners to be displayed before a woman by her male inferior."

The severity of Corinna's strict sentencing hardly disturbed the sweetness of her naturally melodious voice. Her throaty voice was childlike, even a bit cute, a syrupy melody that should have been calming but for the violence promised by her harsh verdict—sugar coating on a poison pill. Corinna's fingers gently stroked my face as she spoke, until she finished by cocking a scarlet fingernail sharp as a cat's claw, and scraped an angry scratch across my cheek, a slash right through the bruise marking Anna's crop. Cupid's arrow shot through the heart. 

Throughout her harangue, Corinna smoothly rocked her pussy into Slave's up turned face. Slave's mouth dutifully followed Corinna's fluid motions, swept up in an elegant dance of mouth to cunt adoration. Corinna leaned down and caressed my furrowed brow with her luscious lips. She lightly licked the blood oozing from the scratch across my cheek. Her sweet perfume evoked memories of tenderness.

Corinna grudgingly concluded, "As repulsive as I find vile manhood, I must admit you are a pretty thing. Perhaps if you learn your proper place at the feet of women you wouldn't be entirely nauseating. Slave, get your tongue out of my cunt and put on the phallic harness. This rapist needs a taste of his own medicine. Teach this boy what it is like to take a cock up the ass. And get the tit clamps with the sharpest teeth." 

Bound as I was I couldn't see much of what was happening. Corinna sat down on the edge of her bed and Slave disappeared behind me. I hung helplessly as increasing panic rose in my heart. Suddenly my balls were released and I fell to the floor. 

Corinna said to the girl standing behind me, "My darling slave, you are a lovely sight. Any red blooded woman would simple swoon at this luscious vision—a triumphant woman with a beaten male and at her feet." I looked back over my shoulder. Corinna's slave girl stood with her legs spread and hands on her hips. Jutting out from her crotch was an enormous artificial cock held in place by a harness. The dildo was as black and shinny as the girl wearing it. The weird spectacle of the slim black girl with her huge breasts and big black cock jutting from her crotch was terrifying. 

I couldn't believe what these woman were about to do to me. "No, please no. Please don't do that to me. I will obey; I will be respectful, anything, but not that. Whip me, but don't do that to me. Please have mercy." 

"Mercy? I do love the sound of men begging for mercy. Thank you for begging. It really is so kind of you to ask, but unfortunately, this must be done. It's just a plastic cock, so don't imagine that Slave will derive any physical pleasure. The point is to humiliate you, and to teach you how a woman feels when she is raped. The point is not physical pleasure for us, rather the psychological gratification of degrading you, the male, before your female superiors. It must be done. 

"But since you beg so sweetly...Slave, give it a diversion. Apply the tit clamps. Not enough to set your mind at ease? My, it is demanding. All right. Slave, you may use a little lubricant this time."

Nauseating disgust and revulsion rampaged through my gut. A conflagration of embarrassment smoldered in my entrails. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide; I was lost a charred desolation. I closed my eyes. Slave kicked my knees apart and knelt behind me. I felt her heavy breasts press upon my back as she leaned over and tenderly kissed the back of my neck. Her sweet breath sent a tingling seduction down my spine. She whispered into my ear, "This will hurt, but don't give that bitch the satisfaction seeing your pain. Rise up, show her your tits." 

Form my knees I lifted my bound and beaten torso to display for Corinna. I stupidly sought pity in her eyes. She laughed. Slave fondled my useless man tits, and then the steel-jawed clamps bit. Slave tightened the screws, alternating left then right. My chest heaved, and I fought the instinct to grimace at the mauling pain. I foolishly attempted to deny the bitch goddess her gratification.

It amused her, "Oh the little boy is trying to be brave. How noble. Slave screw them tight, harder. I can see that you pity him. Don't spare him, or you will pay the price for him." Slave twisted the screws until the steel jaws tore my skin. Overwhelmed, I gave in and cried. A drop of blood oozed on one tit. Corinna was satisfied.

"Excellent. Now boy aren't you sorry for having disrespected my slave girl's tits? Back the screws off a half turn; I don't what to tear his little titties off, yet. Now fuck him in the ass."

Pity still inhabited in Slave's voice. "Bend over. Stay on your knees and arch your back. Don't resist or the pain will be worse. Keep your ass up." Slave gently pushed on the back of my head and I bowed my face to the floor. I savored Slave's musky aroma—the oily scent of skin darkening in the sun. A slender finger slipped into my anus to lubricate me. I looked up at Corinna. 

She lay on her side on her bed watching, smiling. She caught my eye and slid her finger into her pussy. Corinna opened her legs wider, inserted another finger and slowly, gracefully humped herself. All the while, her eyes commanded me to admire her obscene masturbation ritual. She showed off how pleasurable she found the tawdry exhibition of my degradation. Corinna flamboyantly mocked the irrelevance of my masculinity, my worthless tits bleeding in clamps, and my cock locked in a cage, manhood shamed before the superior sex. 

Her honeyed voice gradually seethed to a boil. "Show the boy bitch its proper place; fuck the whore up its ass; take its ass; conquer it for womankind." Slave slid a second finger into me; it was starting to hurt. She pushed my knees farther apart and took her position at my uplifted ass. Corinna fully in flames cackled, "Take it like a man."

Slave playfully slapped my ass. I remembered doing the same to many a girl. I remembered how a disdainful little smack set just the right contemptuous tone to begin ass fucking a woman. Now it was my turn. I felt the head of the giant artificial cock press against my vulnerable back entry. No human cock could match what I was to receive. I began to bawl. Utter humiliation was nearly accomplished.

I clenched my weeping eyes, my teeth, my being. Slave rocked her hips and plunged. The probe slid into my bowels. A dull ache bloated my gut; a demoralizing creepiness plundered my ego.

Feminine oppression split me. I opened to the full force of the horror.



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 24



Gina: Laughter

Gina laughed. Gina laughed until she thought she would split. She could barely breathe. The giddy, giggling, quaking quiver shook her silly. She had no idea that laughing hurt. Laughter's breathless side-ache surprised her; its goofy gasping unnerved her. She just had had no experience. 

Gina had never been able to laugh. She had always taken this personal malfunction to be a sort of disability and the distinguishing symptom of her solitary nature and freakish personality disorder. She tried to laugh; but she just could not. All these years Gina had felt so left out, kicked to the side, watching all those happy shining people sharing laughter. 

"And so this is what it is like? It hurts? Oh, my." Gina laughed for the sake of laughing, so her laughter doubled up, and she doubled over. Until this, Gina hadn't even been able to pretend to laugh. When she tried, everyone gawked at her as if she had transformed into a braying donkey. She practiced in the mirror, and she just squeaked like a mouse. But this was funny. This was perfectly hilarious. This joy sucked her breath away and made her knees weak. Laughing tears bounced down her cheeks. She laughed like spring flowers cascading into a rushing brook. Gina through her arms around Ashley and breathlessly pleaded, "Oh, please make her stop. It's too much." 

Immediately after Anna's talk on the erotic Mesopotamian artifacts, Anna and Ashley had hustled Gina and Edward off to Anna's house, a huge old Victorian lounging gracefully off Main Street under giant, ancient oaks. Anna made hurried excuses to all the shocked academics and took off with Ashley, Gina, and Edward in tow. No one objected to this sudden departure of the star of the evening because no one could think of a refined, professional way of discussing bondage pornography, albeit six thousand year old bondage pornography.

Edward had gotten the women drinks and was vigorously striding back and forth across Anna's elegantly appointed sitting room balancing his wine and pontificating about the revolutionary nature of Anna's discoveries. In mid sentence, Anna rose from her chair, walked up to him, smiled politely, and vigorously kneed him in the balls. Edward's wine spilled all over his face, up his nose and down his stylish herringbone jacket. Edward gasped for breath. His mouth formed a perfect "o". Professor Edward Fish treated the girls to a hilarious caricature of a cartoon fish, mouth moving in silent gasping oh's, wine dripping out of its nose, its fish eyes watering and pleading. Edward turned slightly green and fell to his knees with a pathetic, "Oomph."

Edward's callous betrayals had driven Gina to the brink of emotional collapse. Now for a fleeting moment she thought this must be a wish-fulfilling hallucination. Anna bent over the knelling Edward, hooked her finger in his gaping mouth, and raised his face to look into her mocking eyes. Edward looked like seafood on a stringer. As Anna bent slightly at the waist, her full breasts shifted forward and pressed against her silken bodice. A swell of embroidered flowers bloomed on Anna's bulging bosom. She looked down, smiled sweetly at the famed professor cringing at her feet and tenderly inquired, "Sweetheart, are you alright? Are you paying attention? Your eyes seem a bit glazed over. You really should listen when I speak to you."

Understanding suddenly lit Gina's way. "That's just what I wanted to do. That is just what the son-of-a-bitch deserves. Look at him. Look at that slithering creep; he is fucking ridiculous." Gina's anger, depression, and anxiety dissolved, morphing into a wave of laughter. Laughter too long repressed welled from deep within, surged over the levees of reticence, and swept Gina away.

Anna's long blushing locks fell softly upon her creamy shoulders. Her silken scarves and full-length dress floated lightly about, draping her in an aurora of pastel. She looked down on her fiancée hooked by his lip on her finger. With faux sympathy dripping with derision, Anna mocked, "Edward, darling, sweetheart, oh my loving husband-to-be, you seem to have spilled wine all over yourself. You can be such a clumsy bumpkin. If you spilled on my rug, I will be most upset. Lick the floor; clean up your mess." 

Edward's voice returned with a weak, hoarse croak. "Anna, what was that? What were you thinking?"

Anna smiled pleasantly, "Edward darling, I was thinking you are a worthless lying prick. Ashley has told me everything you have been doing to this innocent girl. You are truly disgusting." There was no anger in Anna's voice, just a touch of patient disappointment, amusement perhaps, but mostly Anna's ever composed feminine tranquility. 

Edward attempted to get up off his feet, but Anna put her hand in his face and smoothly directed him back down. "I said lick the floor." Edward burned with embarrassment and rising anger. He was a fit, athletic looking man, but despite this, he was a bookworm, not a fighter. He always avoided physical confrontations and competitions; he even avoided golf. Now a woman half his strength had laid him low by while two girls, his students, sat by and laughed at him. This was totally beyond his realm. His mind whirred; ethical arguments, excuses, principled positions, and verbal stratagems assembled. Edward reasoned, "First I must stand up on my own two feet. This is absurd." 

"Anna let me expl..." This time, unseen from behind, Ashley kicked him in the back of his knee as Edward attempted to rise up from the floor. He collapsed again in surprise and pain. Ashley said, "Please excuse me Anna, but I found him so much more attractive groveling on the floor. And Gina seems to be having the time of her life looking down on the slimy, lying slut-man cringing at your feet. I don't think I have ever seen her laugh so hard...for that matter I don't remember her laughing at anything. Can Gina have a turn? Can Gina kick this hollow jerk-off in the balls?" There was a feigned echo of Anna's forbearance in Ashley's voice, but elation and bald contempt were the dominate cords.

"Why of course. Gina darling, would you like to kick my fiancé in the balls? Since you have been allowing him to use your bottom to vent his masculine compulsions, I think it is the least you ought to do. It is time for you to restore proper gender relations. I really do not mind that you were fucking him, but I do think you owe it to me to put him in his place. He gets all puffed up and unruly if women don't assert control in their relations with him." 

Gina looked at Ashley. Ashley urged, "Go on. It'll be good for you. Oh yeah, sorry Gina. I told Anna he was doing you dirty. I know you said he wasn't, but I knew you were lying, and I know he put you up to those lies. I detest dishonesty, but I will forgive your lies if you show that for once you'll act on instinct, for once you will step past trite social convention and be the real you. Since you were simply repeating Edward's lies, I will hold him accountable. I realize what a sweet talker he can be and that you were head over heels with him. But now that you see him crawling at our feet, I hope your see your love in a new light - heels over head, so to speak. Set things straight and I will forgive you.

"Oh, and I haven't forgotten it's your birthday, happy eighteen. That thing on its knees is your birthday present. Set him straight; teach him what it means to be a man, M-A-N." Ashley sang the blues.

"You remembered my birthday. Wow. And this is the perfect present." Gina looked down on Anna's fiancé cringing at her feet. "I like him down there. This feels right. I guess I was kind of seduced by the submission, the sweet goo of giving. But I didn't like the pain, I didn't like his abuse, and as for being fucked in the ass, well if he had shown any sensitivity...but no, not by him. It just hurt. Ashley I am so sorry that I lied to you, and for that, that piece of shit. It won't happen again." 

Gina thought, "This has been an epiphany. Ashley tried to teach me to be a free woman, but I wasn't ready. I carried around way too much foolish baggage - yearning for acceptance, lust for status, and craving for the full rich flavor of submission. But given a choice to submit or to rule, I see now what is right for me." 

"Anna, I am sorry. I...I...well there is no excuse. But thank you for offering this man to me. This is more generosity than I deserve." Then for perhaps the first time in her life, Gina declared with full confidence, "Set things straight? You bet I will. I was a fool, but I won't be fooled again. Edward, meet the new boss"

Anna stood aside and Gina stepped up in front of the kneeling, cringing Edward. When Anna had kneed Edward in his balls, it had not been such a hard shot. The ever-feminine Anna wore light dressy flats with her elegant attire, not appropriate ball kicking footwear or attire. Gina was dressed for the part - a simple black tee shirt, blue jeans and heavy biker boots. 

The boots frightened Edward. His academic mind could not stop judging, "Those things are trite symbols of lower class social-sexual rebellion, just more of Ashley's ridiculous pretensions. But they look heavy." 

Gina swaggered to her predestined place to stand in dominion over knelling men. She snarled, "Edward, you cheat on your fiancé, you sexually abuse your students, you fucked me in the ass, whipped me, you lie, and you're boring. Do you think we can all agree that you are a worthless prick in need of a ball bashing?"

Edward looked up from the floor, attempted a smile, and lied, "Gina, sweetheart, don't let these perverts deceive you. After this, I am through with Anna. Let us, just you and I, leave here together. We will be as one. I know I should not have stood you up. I should have left town and met you as I promised. It would have been wonderful. No, I should have taken you with me in my car, openly, proudly together. You can see Anna pressured me. It is her fault. She tricked me. I don't want anything more to do with her, so you and I can start anew. I will be proud to have you on my arm, my beauty at my side, in front of the whole world. Together you and I will make a couple that will be the envy of everyone. Let's leave here together, hand in hand." All this said from his knees.

"Sorry but you don't cut such a strong, masculine figure down there holding your balls. I don't want you any more. Except, there is something I want to do to you. Would you please move your hands to your sides and open you knees a bit so I can get a good kick in?"

"This is outrageous..." Edward once again attempted to get up, but he had forgotten that Ashley was still behind him. She tripped him again and put him in a headlock pulling back so that Gina could get a good shot in. When Edward reached back to get Ashley off, Gina swung her boot full force into his balls. This was the coup de grace. Edward nearly fainted, and he could no longer talk much less resist. Ashley released him, and he rolled over with a moan.

Gina said, "I can't believe how good that felt. I feel like a new woman. Look at him lying there groaning. That sound is so much better than that pretentious bullshit I usually hear coming out of him." Gina leaned forward and spit on the vanquished Grand Professor of Comparative Literature.

Anna stood over Edward. "Edward, darling, sweetheart, oh husband-to-be of mine, I am so sorry that your said you were through with me, because your not. No darling, we will marry and you will be a good husband. Perhaps you were a bit careless in reading over the prenuptial agreement you signed. Yes darling, you signed and it took full effect as of signing. It's all in the fine print; you will be a good husband. 

"Perhaps you also hadn't thought through the consequences of having an affair with a current student, and a filthy perverted affair, I might add. In addition, perhaps you didn't reflect on the consequences of involving yourself with the Ashley, whose family has sat on the university's board for over two hundred years, or me, the mistress, that would be the dominate mistress, of the faculty president. Oh yes, you didn't know about that, so perhaps ignorance might excuse your failure to consider the consequences of that last thing. But nothing can excuse your lack of insight into you place in our relationship. Consequences, consequences - the price you will pay is that for the rest of your life you will be my very, very, good and obedient husband.

"Ashley would you and Gina be good enough to strip Edward naked and tie him up. Then bring him into my study. I want to show you some additional figurines. I don't want him disturbing us, but we will need him later. Gag him."

Edward attempted a struggle. He was a proud and persistent man, but debilitated as he was, he could not match the strength and purpose of Ashley and Gina. The girls got his pants down to his knees and Ashley grabbed him by the balls and squeezed. "Ok dickhead, cooperate or I'll rip them off. Take your jacket and shirt off. Better. Gina, use his shirt and tie his hands behind his back. Roll over and be still while we get your pants and shoes off. 

"You know Edward; your problem is you don't know how lucky you are. You loved doing it with two women; think how great it is going to be with three of us. Yeah, it is all a matter of perspective, isn't it? Oh look Gina; he's getting a hardon. Three hot chicks at once, what a lucky guy. I think our Edward is going to be a good boy now, aren't you. Roll over. Roll over, boy. Oh, that is so much better. See how good it feels to obey. Edward, look at Gina; isn't she the prettiest thing you ever saw. You like her don't you? Your dick is getting real hard, isn't it?"

When Ashley had grabbed Edward's balls, a change gripped him, and not just the fear of a ball crushing. A forgotten voice called to him, undermining his will to resist.

Ashley fondled Edward's cock. It was indeed hard. Edward rolled over obediently and displayed his swelling cock with a perverse and misguided pride. The stupid part of his brain told him that the girls would be impressed, and that his masculinity would soon be back in charge. When it occurred to him that this was ridiculous, Edward was at a loss to explain his hardon. 

Somehow, from the deep, repressed recesses of Edward's magnificent mind, the genie of his sexually submissive self had been released. Ashley continued to rub the genie's bottle, encouraging Edward's transformation with cooing praises. Edward looked up at the two young women and surrendered to his predicament and to his lust. Gina knelt at Edward's side. Her chest heaved from the exertion of subduing him; her braless, diminutive nipples rose and fell against her sweaty tee shirt. Gina's thick hair fell into her face in scattered black streams. Ashley leaned over and kissed her, still massaging the head of Edward's cock, now slick with the ooze of lust. Edward deserted common sense and ran off with his new mistress, the lascivious genie of sexual submission.

"He is ready now. It is amazing how easy it can be even with a macho dick like Edward. Men are such suckers. Take them by the balls, and they will do anything you command. Edward, your fiancé awaits. Show her what a good boy you can be and you won't get hurt. Up on your feet. Follow."

The remnants of Edward's pride whined, "Ashley, please. This is ridiculous. You can't parade me around naked through the house. You know I love sex games and role playing, but maybe a little decorum would be in order." 

"Of course I can parade you about naked. I'm doing just that. And look, all that silly talk about 'decorum' is making your dick shrink. It is a pathetic thing at its best. You had better get back into character, or your cock might disappear entirely. Sex games and role-playing, call it that if it that's what works for you. And stick with it, because it's going to be nothing but pain if you don't stay in character. Think of yourself as the love slave of three hot, horny babes. See, you're getting hard again. I hope you like your new role, because you're going to be playing it for a long time. 

"Gina, I'll lead him by the dick. You follow and smack him in the butt if he's too slow. Anna said gag him. Stuff his undies in his mouth."

Edward was thoroughly confused, three hot babes, yes, but three hot babes humiliating him? But standing there naked in front of two pretty, fully clothed students, floating in the aroma of their sweat and sexual arousal, adrift in the dark unfamiliar sea of physical intimidation, Edward was lost. His newly released genie of sexual submission commanded, "Accept this rare gift. Let the woman use you. Serve." Gina smacked Edward on the butt and he started moving off behind Ashley toward Anna's study. 

Anna met them at the door. She dabbed fresh perfume behind her ear and kissed Edward. He flushed pink from head to foot. Gina too breathed Anna's scent. Just a whiff started her heart racing. Her head swirled. The image of bashing Edward's balls resonated wildly with rising visions of sexual supremacy. She looked upon the blushing man gripped in her power, and from her heart a newly empowered archangel ascended joyously to dominion. 

The rush of Anna's scent suffused Gina's emotions. Anna's ethereal beauty spun everything. Gina neared a dazzling orgasm from shear gratitude for being near Anna. What was this? Was this a hallucination or delirium? Anna broke the spell by touching Gina's hand, "Please enter." 

Anna took her seat behind her desk. "Edward you just stand there and keep quiet. Ashley, I want you and Gina to look at these figurines. These were the true breakthrough, but because of professional jealousies and the cowardly nature of my colleagues, I thought it best to keep these secret for the time being. Besides, despite what I said at the public talk, I found these on the site in Iraq, under ancient Ur. Export laws and the insanity of the current government would have prevented securing them properly.

"A number of the figurines appeared to be naked males with their legs spread open and hands tied, but they were all broken in the crotch so I couldn't be certain of their sex. I also found several kneeling female figures that fit over the faces of the male figures like pieces of a puzzle. They look down on the male's crotch with their arms raised over their heads, but the raised arms were broken off. The extended arms would be prone to breakage and so I thought little of that. The carefully chipped off crotches of the males were more difficult to dismiss.

"Finally I came upon this female fully intact. See how her thighs fit perfectly around the face of the spread eagle man male. She is looking down on his broken crotch. Her arm is raised over her head holding something. This is the Rosetta stone.

"Gina, look closely, what is in her hand? Tell me what an observant, nonprofessional sees in these figurines. What does this ancient lady hold in her hand?"

Gina leaned in and examined at the small figurines in the bright glow of Anna's desk lamp. The carving was superbly detailed. The woman's mouth was open in a sort of frozen ecstasy, and the man's head was buried in her crotch. But in the hand raised over her head, what was that? Was it... "Oh my, she is holding his cock and balls. She has just ripped his genitals off. This woman has torn off his...and she is...she's laughing at him! This is monstrous."

"Good, you see the same thing I see. My gutless academics friends would argue over things as plain as the nose on their face to deny any fact that does not suit them and their timid prejudices. My colleagues would deny the truth that is so evident here, and so deny the power of what I have found. This woman, this priestess, has ripped off the genitals of this male. It was a holy ritual; it was women exerting power over men in ancient Mesopotamia.




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 24



"And Gina, it is not so monstrous. Her world was very different from ours. She was justified. Everybody believed in some sort of hocus-pocus in those times. It was a time and place of everyday sacrifice to hocus-pocus. Believers sacrificed innocent virgins to religious lies on a regular basis. Magic made the sun rise; magic cured the sick; magic killed one's enemies. It was a world where faith, belief against evidence, was unknown, unnecessary. People believed just as they breathed air. Magic made life, magic ended life. It was that simple. 

"Ur then was new city of a few tens of thousands huddled on the bank of a great river. Dangerous open steppes drying to desert surrounded the people. There was no history, no science. It was a newborn urban way of existence freshly emerging from millennia of hunting and gathering. The subservience and expendability of women was assumed. It was the order of things, a fact not questioned - except by the few women with the rare insight to see through the magic to the truth. To defend themselves, these women stole the illusion of magic and made it their shield.

"A clique arose among the most defenseless women, the common whores feeding themselves by sucking cock at the edges of the public latrine. The more intelligent and talented whores saw into the hearts of their customers and perceive the male need to relax and surrender to the soft pillow of feminine care. The gifted saw the power to be grabbed by claiming magic as her own, by convincing the man attached to the cock that she could make magic behave, and so compel him to submit to her magic and her power. A cult of magical whores grew powerful. The male priests whose power they had usurped hated and despised these women.

"A religion for women arose in this male dominated ancient place. A protective society for women, and for the men who gave themselves to the women, contested for control of the nascent civilization being born on the river's edge. The ancient history is largely unknowable, but there is evidence of the cult's existence and power. There is also much evidence of the deliberate suppression of the fact of the cult's existence. That impulse to suppress the truth is as alive today as ever. Therefore, we must keep the full scope of my discoveries secret for now.

"Most of what happened so long ago cannot be known, but here is what I think happened. A charismatic leader claiming magical powers rose from lowest form of existence in that old world, the whores. She organized the whores, and then took male disciples to protect the new order against the powerful male priest caste. Then through concubines, and eventually wives, the cult infiltrated the households of the ruling class. The whores could do things for these influential men that mere money and unimaginative priests could not. Sex and magic have the power to entertain, entice, and enthrall. Enthrall: to hold spellbound, to reduce to slavery. The sect enslaved the masters of their world.

"Did they actually castrate men as the figurines suggest? Who knows? These dolls were likely paraphernalia for a kind of voodoo intended to emasculate the cult's enemies by sympathetic magic. Or perhaps the cult rented its magical power to the gullible hoping to destroy their enemies. So much history is lost. 

"But we do know there has long been a practice castration in the Fertile Crescent. Human life and dignity had, even today has, little value there. The priestesses probably did castrate at least their personal male slaves. They probably paraded their eunuchs in public. There is some evidence of that in the shattered remains of a frieze from their temple. I will show you that later. A civic parade of their emasculated disciples would have been a useful demonstration. A public display of the humiliated victims of their magic would serve to entertain and awe the masses. Fear is the wicked handmaiden of power.

"In the end the Goddess cult was destroyed. They may have pushed it all too far. Power corrupts and decadence weakens. We probably will never know how it ended, except that the temple was burned to the ground and the religion was snuffed out. Evidence of the cult has been actively suppressed ever since. Fear of its revival may have driven the ridged patriarchal, misogynist, anti-sex structure of Middle Eastern religions.

"Could they really do magic? I am a scientist, so I doubt it. Nevertheless, there are mysteries in the world. Gina, look at your art. Look at the images you use and compare it to the style these ancient women created. It is all too close to dismiss as coincidence. Perhaps the erotic images both you and the woman of the sex cult discovered in the mind's eye are hardwired in the human brain; or perhaps there really are external spirits haunting our lives. Who knows?

"The more pertinent question is what do we do with all this; write an academic paper? It would be dismissed, marginalized, or outright suppressed. Besides, action is more satisfying than tedious disputation and flaccid, pallid contemplation. What I want is to revive the cult and restore the power of women. Let us not be timid; let us act to control our world. Ashley, Gina, are you with me? Men have grown decadent, no longer vigilant against the feminine threat. Today's man is easily fashioned into a tool to serve the woman who knows how twist him to her purpose, a woman with the courage to take control.

"Edward darling have you been listening? Oh, look at my loving fiancée standing passive and naked, his mouth still stuffed with his undies. He must indeed be interested in serving our cause; his cock is hard as a rock. Edward, you make such a pretense of sympathy to women's rights. But will you serve us? Will you wait upon us?"

Throughout Anna's discussion of the erotic figurines, Edward had stood quietly by, mesmerized. Standing naked under the rule of three beautiful women, the story of the ancient cult of dominant women and their male slaves enthralled Edward. His infant genie of sexual docility drove a parade of images through his mind's eye - irresistible images of submission, subjugation, and submersion in a sea of manipulative women. He saw dripping cunts, bulging breasts, and rippling asses ruling him. 

Edward imagined himself dragged naked by formidable Amazons down an ancient stone street past fearful, but derisive peasants cowering in their huts. Edward saw himself torn down and torn apart. His genie commanded him to forget his tiresome world and be reborn as a servant of cunt, freed from the annoying struggle to be an autonomous person. His cock saluted his new rulers. Now addressed, Edward's glibness failed. He could only nod his assent.

"Gina, he has abused you so I want you to accept my Edward's application to our service. Make him kiss your ass."

Gina smiled, kicked off her boots, and took off her jeans and panties. She turned her back to Edward, lifted her tee shirt off her gorgeous ass, and displayed the tight curve of her buttocks. She leaned forward on Anna's desk, spread her legs, and arched her back to present the power of her perfection. Looking down over her shoulder Gina said, "Professor Fish, get on your knees and kiss my ass." 

Edward fell to the floor, took the gag out of his mouth, and carefully placed his hands on Gina's hips. He leaned forward and kissed Gina's beautiful ass. Edward whimpered, "Anna, I am yours." With that, he ran his tongue up the crack of Gina's ass and searched for the bud of her anus. Edward pressed until his tongue slid into Gina's hole. 

Gina laughed. Gina knew she had found her place in the world. Gina was at last emancipated, and so she laughed.



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 25



Corinna's World

I had no idea how long it had been—days, weeks, forever? Corinna and Slave kept me blindfolded and gagged most of the time, and whenever the blindfold was removed, I was in a dark place, like Corinna's stuffy, confining workout room or in the sadistic lesbian's well-equipped sex dungeon buried in the cold ground beneath her old mansion. 

My world was shadows, gloom, or pure blackness. Slave put me in the artificial sun of the coffin-like tanning bed, but taped my eyes shut so that I was inundated in light, but submerged in darkness. Corinna's heavy, darkly colored curtains were always tightly drawn. When her coal black slave girl took me down to the dungeon to use Corinna's full array of man bending implements, Slave might remove my blindfold, but in the darkness, I saw only the shimmering blackness of her skin, or the flash of the whip flying through dim candlelight.

The measure of passing time slipped away. I could not tell day from night. In my long black nightmare, sleep was one of my few pleasures, but Corinna permitted only intermittent scraps of naps. Slave would occasionally wake me, beat me thoroughly, and put me back to bed. Sometimes she lacerated my sleep with a single slash and then disappeared before I awoke. Soon the cut between dreams of cruelty and my waking nightmare, between delirium and real life, disappeared. I craved deep sleep but never got it. Mistress Corinna used sleep as a tool, granting or withholding snippets, insinuating her control into me, carving my soul like a sculptress chiseling an agreeable figurine of an obedient man. 

I could not name the sort of vile creature Corinna intended me to become, but I felt it incubating in my gut. Slave fed me like a dog; face down in the bowl on the floor, no hands allowed. My simple need to eat was a tool, a technique for breaking and remaking me. My sense of being human slipped away. Slave forced me eat more than I could stomach on threat of the whip, but I learned not to vomit. Being sick just made it worse; Slave would just force me to start again at a fresh bowl. She required that I ingest a full dose of the tasteless mush at each doggie bowl session. However, as unappealing as this diet was, combined with the exercise routine imposed on me, my body grew hard and muscular, as my will grew soft and compliant. The sculptress was a clever artisan.

The most powerful tools in Corinna's repertoire were fear and pain, balanced against the reward of cunt sucking. My hardening body was never without the marks of her torture. I learned the nuances of the strap, the crop, and the whip. Slave made me identify the instrument of each bruise and cut. When I erred, Slave laughed, mocked my stupidity, and demonstrated the implement again. It was easy to distinguish the wide bruise of the leather strap from the flat square imprint of the riding crop. However, it was next to impossible to tell the thin cutting mark of the cane from that of the rod; Slave insisted there was a difference. I learned a completely new vocabulary—cat, tawse, quirt. If I guessed correctly, my reward was face time with Slave's cunt.

Sometimes Slave allowed only a brief kiss, and sometimes, depending upon her whim, a long leisurely feast at her hole. She teased and taunted me with promises that if I were good, I could luxuriate in it. She judiciously rationed the privilege of extended cunt lapping tongue service at the trough of her nether lips. She made me beg for it, and then denied it.

Slave might promise that if I were especially good she would indulge me with an extravagant reward of mouthfuls of her precious gush. "Honey, just lift a little more weight, just one more time, push yourself sweetie and you can have some of this; it's right down here; it's real juicy. Try a little harder and you can go down on me and slurp it up. I'll for squirt for you." 

Or, if I took the ferule on my balls without screaming, Slave promised she would let me forget my pain in the deep wet fold, the warm soaking pit of her crotch. Ferule: a flat piece of wood for punishing children, a schoolmaster's rod.

I craved pussy. Sometimes Slave let me go down on her for what might have been hours; sometimes pussy was withheld for what felt like days—the true measure of time had become a mystery. Slave encouraged me to beg for pussy, and then punished me for asking, and moments later castigated me for not pleading for her cunt. As often as not Slave's promises were lies, but I did not complain or begrudge her deceit in any way. I accepted her inconsistency. I was learning not to think. 

It was impermissible to touch Corinna much less lick her pussy. Corinna left most of the physical labor to Slave, but directed everything. Under Corinna's tutelage, I grasped the justice of injustice, and realized the joy in pain. 

Corinna beat Slave often. Slave would then come to me lying asleep on my cot and wake me with a slash of the crop. Her commands would be harsher than usual, her voice thick from crying. Using me, controlling me, power over me consoled Slave. She let me lick the freshly swelling welts on her slick, black skin. Then Slave exacted her full revenge upon me.

It was my function to be the surrogate to receive punishment, retribution, and pain for any injustice, or simple frustration, not just to Slave and Corinna, but also to all women. I was beaten because Slave was beaten; I was beaten because men mistreat women; I was beaten because Corinna had premenstrual cramps. I was the proxy for all men, wicked impious men who would not worship women. I was balm for Corinna's discontents. Her headaches melted away as she reclined enjoying long leisurely viewings of Slave thrashing me. 

Blame, fault, and condemnation poured over me, thus injustice transmuted to right. Corinna ordered that I swallow these inequities, and I did, with growing understanding and increasing gratification for the privilege to serve. I was thankful to Corinna for her generous attention and honored by the privilege to serve women. Corinna found me useful; I was content to be at her disposal. The flood of Corinna's spite nourished me, and I ripened into the thing she intended. The clever sculptress now worked in her garden. She twisted me into a showy miniature of a male, a bonsai man. 

Although Corinna did not let me touch her, she would not sully herself by contacting a contemptible male, she did occasionally permit me to be an ornament for her boudoir. I knelt still as a statue at the foot of her bed while she went about her daily business, chatting with friends on the phone, going over the bills, combing her hair, or doing and redoing her make up. All the while, she paid me no more attention than she would a chair. Sometimes she had Slave suspend me from her bedroom ceiling. Then Corinna gave Slave orders for the care of the household, chatted about business, and gossiped, all the while ignoring the male hung by the bed in chains.

She might then instruct Slave on the next twist in my reconstruction with disinterested detachment, as if she were discussing the need to take out the garbage. The only acknowledgement of my presence would be Corinna's critique of Slave's work. Corinna might point out a body part in need of a bruise or welt, or perhaps recommend a particular whip or bondage devise. She would evaluate the development of my muscles and my blossoming servility. Corinna gave no hint that she considered me in any way human. To her I was at best an animal, at worst a repulsive slab of meat. She briefly released and examined my cock. "The welt on its penis is fading. Renew it."

On occasion, I was hung blindfolded, gagged and bound while Corinna and Slave engaged in their lesbian lovemaking. I was never permitted to witness scenes of physical violence, but Corinna was nevertheless viciously cruel to Slave in these sessions. She piled verbal abuse on the poor girl calling her every vile name imaginable. Though Corinna was herself African American, she mocked Slave for the blackness of her skin and never seemed to get enough of calling her a dirty nigger and humiliating her for her race. Though I was always blindfolded, Corinna assured that I witnessed the minutiae of Slave's humiliations by relating in detail the degradations she was imposing upon Slave. The point of detailing Slave's shame to a male was to inflict additional emotional pain upon the poor girl. The abuse I witnessed was not physical, but perhaps it was worse. It was as if Corinna were flogging Slave's soul. 

"What I am doing now is finger fucking the nigger slut's asshole. She likes it. Do you hear her moaning? She is a shameless whore. She is pushing her ass against my hand like a bitch in heat. Slave, play with your grotesque tits. It's disgusting he way those mammoth sacks jiggle. Does all that weight hurt? Backaches? Too bad, no bra for you. Watching you struggle with those big fat sacks swinging and bouncing while your walk very funny. You want to amuse me right? 

"Let's see if I can force another finger up your ass. You're such a tight thing. Olivia's girl can easily take her whole fist. I'd trade you for her, except Olivia won't do it. She says you are too funny looking all nigger black and jumbo tits. Oh now you are crying again. What a baby. Are those tears for the fingers up your ass or because I want that other girl? Tell the vile male what you are."

"I am a dirty nigger whore. I am a bitch in heat. I am a worthless ass fuck, and a black freak with ugly obscene tits. Take me with your fist. Rip me apart if you have to. Oh Corinna, I am whatever you want me to be. I love you. Please don't throw me away. Humiliate me; even in front of that despicable male thing, treat me like the whore I am. Treat me cruel. Mistress Corinna I love you; I love it." How it could be true, I do not know, but Slave did love Corinna. 

I didn't. She just scared me. I prayed that Corinna stay satisfied with abusing Slave, because if her attention wandered, her malice fell on me. Corinna would then interrupt their lovemaking, if such abuse could be called that, and order Slave to pick up the whip. Then Slave beat me more cruelly than anything she would have done if Corinna were not watching. 

Corinna chattered gaily away while Slave whipped my strung up body, bubbling about how she loved to see men crushed, and ordering Slave to hit harder or to use this or that implement of torture. Sometimes Corinna directed Slave to hang weights from my balls, and intermittently interrupted their lovemaking to have Slave hang more, and then a little latter more weight upon my scrotum until I feared I might break. Eventually Corinna would walk out abruptly, usually without a word, but occasionally with some trivializing insult to Slave. 

"You bore me." Then Corinna departed with a flippant promise of infidelity and a casual threat of dismissal. When Corinna was gone, Slave released me, removed the gag and blindfold, and let me eat pussy while she cried her eyes out over Corinna's cruelty. 

Somehow, Slave really loved Corinna; I was simply terrified. But I came to love Slave, even if she whipped me daily. Was this unfaithful to Gina? No. I ached to return to her; I longed to debase myself at the snap of Gina's finger. What did for Slave I did for Gina. Still, my heart thanked Slave for her time and attention despite the cruelty it entailed. 

And I learned to love the whip, sort of. I hated the pain while it is happening, but I pined for the attention. Left alone I was so bored. When Slave beat me, I felt needed, or at least useful. I craved her orders. I yearned to prove my worth, to show Slave I would carry any burden and accept any agony for her. I owed this to all women, but especially to Slave, the one who beat me. I accepted that I was a worthless male, simple trash, who could only improve with the arduous application of a whip in the heavy hand of a strong woman. And so, I came to terms with my destiny. This was not resignation; it was enlightenment. 

I craved pussy and took pride in my cunt eating skill. Anna and Gina had promised me more pussy than I could imagine; I got that. Soon I was introduced to Corinna's friends. They visited four or five at a time waiting in Corinna's parlor, until Slave led me into the room by my scrotum leash—naked, chained, blindfolded, and decorated in bruises, a male gift wrapped for the women of the world. The laughing and chatting stopped suddenly with surprised gasps, noises of disgust, and then whispered insults. The ladies' intrigued revulsion slithered across my skin. Even Corinna's friends were appalled at the clear evidence of freshly inflicted violence.

Corinna announced, "My friends—a male as it should be. I see that you appreciate my slave's work. It takes a nigger slave girl to beat a white boy properly into submission. She has been giving him cunt-sucking lessons, and it is time for his midterm examination. Georgia, please go first. Put its head under your skirt and grade the boy's skills. No easy grading and do not hesitate to ask for the whip if he slacks off. Slave remove Eric's gag."

They handed me around, cunt to cunt, testing and grading. I learned to wait upon the nuances of individual preferences, and began to recognize categories of inclination. I deliberated carefully at my duties.

"This cunt likes it soft and slow with a gentle concentration on the clit. Keep your distance a bit, just the tip of your tongue; that is all she wants. This one wants it hard and fast—get the clit, get it hard; get it hot; get it off, fast. This one is very wet; she wants me up her hole. Its like her cunt wants to swallow my head tongue first, and it's almost big enough to do it. She could go on for hours. The next woman is impatient; Slave is pulling me out by my ball chain. Next, get in there boy. A new taste; this one is into exotic douches. She's all lubed up, wet; she is there; she wants me to swallow. Female ejaculators—they don't all do that, but I think I like those cunts best. There is little doubt she reached orgasm—unless she was just pissing in my mouth. Why are they laughing? Oh, that was not a douche; it was menstrual blood. I guess the towel on the chair should have been a tip off." Slave wiped my face clean and it was on to the next cunt.

"Did I once just fuck these things? Was that me? How inappropriate, and what a waste. A man's cock is properly locked in a cage. There is so much more to enjoy, to taste, to smell, and to savor with the mouth—ah, the tongue, the dutiful male sex organ." 

The blindfold helped. The trappings of attractiveness or fashion did not distract me; it was all about the pussy. Sweet juicy pussy; it was all good. "Let me get my face into it; let me find the flavor; let me discover the scent; exactly how does she like it? Let me eat. Thank you Gina." I thanked Gina for each cunt.

The women gave me grades of C's and D's. They could not admit in front their friends that a man could be an A plus cunt sucker. The meanest bitch gave me a D minus, grudgingly. At first, she was going to flunk me, and so Slave whipped me while the women laughed. I stood in the middle of women's circle jerk while Slave beat me on my chest, thighs and finally genitals. Because I was blindfolded, I did not know which way to turn or where the flogger would fall next. I danced and whined—and smelled females playing with themselves. 

Finally, the bitch who had flunked me said I could retake the test; maybe my cunt licking wasn't that bad. Slave shoved my face into her cunt. She was hot and finally at the edge of organism. It was the one with the yawning sloppy hole. I reached in deep, drove my tongue in and sucked the ripe plum of her fat urethra into my mouth. Her loose wet folds splayed against my face and I could not breathe. In moments, thick tangy ooze filled my mouth and I swallowed. She was a frustrated ejaculator. "Ok, give him a D minus." 

In the days after barely passing my initial examination, other women were invited to test me. It seemed the unrestricted use of an utterly submissive cunt-sucking male created quite the sensation in Corinna's circle of friends. I could tell by their taste that a number returned for seconds and even third helpings. Once in her satisfied afterglow a woman said, "Oh he is good. An A plus for sure." Corinna would have none of that. "It's a male. It can't do better than a C. Please maintain some decorum." The enthusiast demurred, "Of course Corinna, I just meant he was good for a boy. Give it a D."

The women apparently found it amusing to use a male at the high tide of their menstrual flow. Several asked to take me home with them so that they could keep their sheets clean without the use of sanitary napkins. The women found this quite funny and some took to calling me their 'blood nappy'. "Oh, Corinna darling, it is not that I am insatiable, it just that I have such a heavy flow this month. I afraid I am leaking again. Send the bloody nappy back over here to clean me up one more time. Your boy is such a glutton for blood. The girl I use at home does a dutiful job of changing my napkins, but she is recalcitrant about cleaning me with her mouth. She claims the blood makes her nauseous. Besides, blood licking really is task for a male. Could I take him home for just this night, until my flow lets up?" Fortunately, Corinna put them off saying that I was still in training and that I needed Slave's close supervision and discipline.

When Corinna deemed me skilled enough, she allowed me to eat out paying customers. Women came individually or in couples and paid Corinna for my cunt sucking, or paid just to watch Slave whip me. Sometimes they would inquire about my availability for weekends or for entertainment at a party. Corinna told them that I was Gina's property and that Gina had not yet decided whether to rent me out. "I'll get back to you later."

Time, I was lost to time. Awake or asleep, I floated listlessly down the river deeper into the dark jungle. Thoughts of pussy filled my head. I dreamed of pussy overflowing my mouth, filling my being, I dreamed of cunts bearing down, swallowing my face. I dreamed of whores leading me naked down public streets, dragged by a harrowing pain in my crotch. I jumped in the chains that held me in my cot, awoke, and realized, "It is not a nightmare; it is my life." The whip struck my crotch again. "Gina please, take me home." Then once again, I slept and dreamed of cunt and pain.

Slave woke me with a slap across my ass with her crop. For the first time since the day I had arrived, Corinna herself had administered a whipping. It had been the most vicious yet. She drew blood. Slave's slap reopened a wound and I cried out as I awoke. But finally, I had had a long satisfying sleep. Slave had actually given a narcotic to help me sleep after Corinna's violent trashing. 

Slave unchained me from the cot, clipped a leash onto my ball harness, and led me blind down the long hall. "She is taking me to the parlor. Great, that means pussy." I salivated. Corinna's dog had learned that the parlor meant it was time to eat pussy. My mouth watered in anticipation as I limped painfully along behind Slave. 

Slave dragged me into the parlor and I smelled the presence of a group of women. "Ah good, lots of pussy, a buffet. I am hungry." These smelled like white women. Corinna's white friends tended to be more polite, though somewhat more cruel. "That's fine with me. Bring it on, abuse me as you please; just let me feed between your legs." The odor of their cunts blended like the varied aromas of a wildflower garden. "Who will anoint me first with the pure scent of her oily nectar?" Then I heard her laugh.

Yes, Gina laughed. I was sure it was Gina. It was Gina's full throated, uninhibited laugh. I loved her for that laugh. "She is here. She will save me from that bitch Corinna. My love will save me. Gina please, take me home."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 26



Eric: Pussy Licking Kings 

Gina laughed, "Why Claudia, how rude of you to speak that way about my Eric. He is my boyfriend, and ours is an exclusive relationship, at least for him. You know perfectly well that sweet morsel of man meat is mine. All mine. Yet right here in front of me, in front of my friends, you tell everybody that you are going to fuck my boyfriend's brains out? What a vulgar, presumptuous slut you are."

Gina and Ashley lounged on Ashley's sumptuous office divan to listen to Shyanne's weekly report on Claudia's progress. Claudia immediately interrupted, "I've been good. I obey. Now I get to fuck Eric's brains out." Shyanne jerked Claudia's choke chain to shut her up. Gina jerked Claudia's lust chain for kicks, "No you're not."

Claudia's scrambled brain could not process the joke. When the precious, promised toy was snatched away, she yowled like an old iron jail door screeching shut on rusty hinges. Ashley laughed, "Shyanne, your slave has offended Gina. I thought I told you to teach Claudia some manners."

Shyanne got the joke but did not laugh. She fretted that she might be in more trouble than Claudia. Who knew what these crazy bitches might do to her for kicks. Ashley told her to promise Claudia the free use of Eric. Didn't Gina know that? Shyanne was suspicious of Ashley's gorgeous, but peculiar, friend. Why had Ashley invited Gina to the office listen to her report? 

The report was to be that Claudia was quickly becoming the utterly compliant slave—the muscle bound, silicone pumped, exhibition freak-girl...the sex toy—that Ashley had ordered. However, Claudia was losing her mind. She had become crazier and crazier and now she was almost out of control. The choke chain was not just for show. Claudia was nearly unrecognizable physically or mentally from the uptight plain Jane lawyer she had been just months earlier. She was wholly obsessed with sex and had lost any sense of propriety or control of her impulses, though Shyanne suspected Ashley might be pleased with that. 

Claudia was now trim and muscular with huge silicone enhanced breasts. Claudia could not have been more pleased with her big new tits and her sexy new self. She had hated her breasts, those small, misshapen lumps, not even the same size.

When the bright promise of Claudia's childhood had fizzled into dismal adolescence, her private shame and disappointment with her body, and particularly with her breasts, had driven her to despair. As the other girls suddenly became beautiful young women, Claudia looked hopelessly in the mirror at her disappointing reflection and the aborted budding of her breasts. Being smarter than all the other kids did not matter anymore. Claudia had become just another extraneous loser, an ugly dork ignored in the background. The dumb pretty ones were ascendant. The things that had made her the alpha girl at ten didn't matter any more, and so the petulant Claudia forswore social competition entirely. As a defense, Claudia adopted a militantly asexual persona, contemptuous of the physical and disdainful of her more attractive inferiors. Claudia was an intensely unhappy, but arrogant child.

Now Claudia flaunted her perfect, synthetic breasts at every opportunity. She was big, brawny and bosomy. She looked like a female professional wrestler or a sexy cartoon super heroine, pop icons she once held in the lowest contempt. Now Claudia could not get enough of adoring her newly created image in the mirror while she played with her big store bought tits. 

She masturbated at any opportunity. Claudia played with the rings and bejeweled studs piercing her nipples, labia, and tongue, distorting her splendid breasts, stretching her festooned pussy lips, and rolling her tongue ring around in her mouth as if sucking on candy. Left to her own devises Claudia would have spent her life admiring her new body in a full length mirror, playing with its many piercings, exploring the geography of flesh and fantasy—and masturbating, jerking off, delving deep into the obsessions of her new, improved self. Claudia suppressed memory of who she had been.

It was partly all the beating off and partly the hormones, but Claudia was becoming more than a little addled. She pestered Shyanne to take a cock, take anything, up her cunt, but Ashley had ordered Claudia's virginity be preserved to be sacrificed on Eric's cock. Shyanne was increasingly anxious about this. Only the promise that she would have Eric's cock had kept Claudia from reaching in and taking her own cherry. Still, Claudia was quickly losing all capacity for self-restraint. Shyanne locked Claudia in a chastity belt, which was only removed for supervised masturbation. 

Shyanne had to tie Claudia's hands behind her back before she went to bed to protect the precious hymen during her restless sleep. Intense sex dreams and erotic nightmares racked her. She tossed and turned, and screamed and swore throughout the night. Shyanne was afraid intervene. 

Shyanne started tying Claudia's hands after trying to wake Claudia from a fearsome nightmare. Claudia did not awake. Instead, she grabbed Shyanne, pulled her down into the bed and pinned her under her writhing body. Claudia drove her hips between Shyanne's thighs as if dreaming she were a male, and a rapist. Shyanne screamed and scratched to escape, but Claudia did not wake or relent. When Shyanne at last freed herself, she watched in terrified revulsion as Claudia struggled with her bed, grinding her hips into the emptiness of her ghostly nightmare victim/lover, until at last she collapsed into a narcotic stupor.

Now if Claudia's chilling ramblings woke Shyanne in the night, Shyanne would just stand by and watch. Claudia thrashed about as she reached spasms of multiple nocturnal orgasms, her arms bound, her hips grasping at the incorporeal but vital desires of dreams, and her tongue lapping the air as if the void were, what...a pussy...a cock? Shyanne found that the higher the pitch of Claudia's anguish, the deeper the peace of her sleep after the crescendo. Shyanne just watched and covered Claudia's sweat soaked body when quiet came. She let Claudia be, except to bind her hands each night and to tighten the chastity belt. 

When Shyanne led her lunatic ward into Ashley's office, Claudia rushed Ashley, fought with her pierced tongue, and lisped, "Ashley, pwease, Boss, Mistwess, pwease, I need cock. I have been good. Look, see my big new tits, they have big gold wings, uh rings, in them, my pussy has three rings in it; I am ready; I am good. Even my clitty is getting bigger. I let Mistress Shyanne beat me; I obey; I eat pussy; I do everything. Please, please you promised I would get cock. I've been good. I obey. Now I get to fuck Eric's brains out." Claudia hugged herself, ran her hands over her body, and sucked her tongue ring in anguished lust. 

Shyanne had dressed Claudia in tight blue jeans, high heel platform boots, and a skintight man's muscle shirt cut at the shoulders. And the choke chain. This was hardly standard office attire, but, well, it was causal Friday. 

Claudia had always been a large, mannish woman. She was what some might have called a handsome woman, a jolie laide, if she had not hidden behind her aggressively asexual mask, grey on grey, an unadorned concrete fountain of barren intellectualism. Shyanne chose the boots to make this large woman appear even larger, the jeans to show off her thick thighs, and the stretchy cut off shirt to demonstrate her broad shoulders and developing hard body. The choke chain was just the right finishing touch of biker chic. 

Claudia's mannish physique, jeans and muscle tee clashed with her immoderate, counterfeit breasts, the vamp heels and the bulging feminine mound in the tight denim triangle framed between her brawny thighs. Her nipple rings bulged as her big new breasts pulsed in rhythm with each pressured breath. 

Casual Friday was not excuse enough for this obscene display. However, Claudia no longer cared about her colleagues or their contempt. She wanted to show off. She recently stopped hiding at work and started calling everyone into her office for regular meetings. Ashley advised the attorneys under Claudia's supervision to tolerate their eccentric boss, but also to ignore anything she said. Ashley decreed that they make a reasonable accommodation to Claudia's impairment, her unfortunate emotional instability. Maybe it was a phase; maybe she would get better. Ashley assured everyone she had sent Claudia to therapy. Of course, the ass kissers acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary, and they stopped telling Claudia jokes at the office. Shyanne cancelled this morning's meeting, and Claudia did not even notice.

Claudia stood in front of Ashley's desk wringing her hands. Claudia was stunned that Gina might deny her Eric's cock. She quickly looked back and forth from Gina to Ashley to Shyanne. Her watering eyes beseeched Ashley to grant the promised cock. Any semblance of decorum lost, Claudia bit her lip, grabbed her crotch, and panted, "You promised, I need Eric's cock." 

Gina laughed again and continued, "Listen you insolent whore, you unnatural freak, that cock you want so badly is mine. If you want it so desperately, get on your knees at my feet and beg for it." Claudia was confused, "Mistress Ashley?" 

Half suppressing a derisive snicker Ashley faked sympathy, "Poor thing, I can appreciate why you want Eric's cock so badly. It really is a lovely, big, thick cock, and it is attached to such a fetching boy. I've heard he's a great fuck. Did Shyanne promise it to you? Shyanne must have misunderstood. It is not hers to give. Sorry." 

Claudia was desperate. She had been dreaming of that cock for weeks. Her once potent mind was unraveling into a tangle of insane desire. She did not grasp that Ashley was just fucking with her. Claudia's panicked glance darted frantically from Ashley to Gina to Shyanne. She moaned in incoherent despair.

Shyanne couldn't stand Claudia's pain. "I bet if you ask Gina nicely she will take pity on you. But show some manners. Be polite."

Claudia fell to her knees in front of Gina and bowed her head to the floor. She had met Gina in person only once and had unjustly dismissed her as a pretty, brainless tart. Claudia had been condescending as she always was with pretty women, but more so with Gina, since she was not just pretty, she was drop dead, cover girl gorgeous. Gina looked as if she had stepped right out of some dimwitted pop glamour magazine, yet another object of the old Claudia's wide-ranging scorn. Claudia had made no effort to conceal her contempt for the beauty-privileged princess. 

Now Claudia looked up and begged. "Please Miss Gina; please can I use your Eric's cock, just once. You don't know how badly I need it. Please my pussy is clean; it is virgin. I have never had a cock in it and Shyanne said I couldn't ever have one until Eric fucks me. Mistress Ashley said Eric must take me first. Pity, yes pity, Mistress Gina please have pity on me." Claudia broke into desolate tears.

"Ok, since you asked so nicely, ok. In fact, we are going to pick my Eric up this afternoon. Just as Shyanne has been remaking you into something less nauseating, I have sent Eric to a finishing school to learn better manners. You can come along when we pick him up from school. 

"We're planning very special event for next weekend. All of our best friends from around the world will be there. Ashley, thank you for all your work and please thank Anna. I am so exited, honored, and happy. Claudia, think of it as a coming out party for Eric, and a chance for me to show off my freshly remodeled boyfriend to all my like-minded girlfriends. We are going to show everybody what an authentic woman can make of a man—a perfect cunt-licking slave boy. Claudia, you can come to my party too. We will show you off as well—a perfect cunt-licking slave girl. If you are very, very good, I'll let you use my Eric right there at the party while everybody watches."

"Oh, thank you. I need cock so bad." Claudia hadn't the slightest concern that she would be used as a prop in a sex show. All she could think was, "I am going to get cock. I am going to get Eric's cock!" Claudia grabbed her crotch, and tried to masturbate right through the fabric of her jeans and through the leather of her chastity belt. She clenched into a writhing snarl of sexual frustration.

Even Ashley was taken aback. "Shyanne no further report is needed. I can see exactly what's going on. You have done an excellent job on this bitch, but I think we've pushed her a little too far. She is completely nuts. No more hormones. The psychological effects will slacken gradually. Keep her pumping iron to maintain the body. She will remain in this state of manic sexual obsession for a while, but it's time to ease off and let her settle into a more balance personality. 

"Now get that freak her out of here. She's creeping me out. When she fucks Eric, when she whips the boy, she will have reached her furthest extent. Then we can let her recover the tolerable part of her former personality. After all, she is still my lawyer, and she was a very good one. Whipping Eric should revive her lawyerly instincts."

Claudia purred, "Whip? Ooh good I get to whip the cock."

"Shut up and get out." Gina dismissed the groveling Claudia a flick of her foot. "So Ashley, I hear business is good."

"Oh yeah, great. Things haven't been this good since the start of the Iraq war. That was a great little war, especially for Eric's specialties—trinkets, junk food, and crap. And all because Anna wanted to get a closer look at the museum in Baghdad. This is a great country. Anna just called her friend Laura, asked for a little constructive chaos in Iraq, and ta da! The museum was at Anna's disposal and we got a nice profitable war. I can't believe that Laura's dunce of spouse would ever have been of any use. Then Egypt, now war in Persia...great for business...great for Anna's project.

"I am glad there's profit in it, money is always good, but history is the real beneficiary. Anna knew the stuff she had been looking for was hidden in the Baghdad museum. The ancient remains of the cult of women-without-mercy had been safely buried for thousands of years under the long gone Sumer city of Ur until British archeologists dug it up in the British colonial moment. Sadly, the gutless Brits kept it secret. Worse, in their anti-colonial moment they left it all behind hidden in the Baghdad museum.  

"But now the evidence is in responsible hands. What a bad move suppressing it and not bringing it all back to England. Did the English really think their pussy eating Arab king could survive in that barbaric place? Of course he was assassinated; of course the Bathists or something like them took over—modern Baghdad, what an inane, misogynist hellhole. Bathists, just what those savages deserved—commies without brains, malice without an ideological excuse.

"British intellectuals were such a bunch of limp wristed pussy suckers I would have thought they would have trumpeted the discovery of an ancient religion of female supremacy. I suppose it was all their mommy's fault. The problem was that Mummy outsourced the mommy work to the hired help. The fashionable socialites just didn't have the time to smack their own boys' bare white bottoms. Mommies just dropped the boys out of their cunts and turned them over to the hired help with orders to educate their precious sons with a belt. 

"These overeducated, impoverished governesses reared Edwardian English aristocrats across their pretty knees with resentful zeal. These stern young women administered full doses of strict corporal punishment while Mummy was off having fun. The governesses dressed the boys in frilly panties, closely supervised their masturbation, and, at any sign off wickedness, or worse a sign of strength, paddled their bottoms. Each night before bed, the governess draped the future leader of the Empire over her feminine knee, lowered his lacy knickers, fingered his soft white bottom, and instructed him what it meant to be an English gentleman. I would have thought the belt would have taught the boys greater respect for women. But no, us girls just can't get no respect. 

"Mummy should have schooled her boy herself at the authentic fount of wisdom—mommy's hot wet slit. Sorry, mama was just too busy. She was off sucking whatever cock tickled her fancy, while daddy was off licking rent-a-cunt or taking some other gentlemen's cock up his bum. High colonial English culture, it's no wonder the boys were confused.

"So the repressed archeologists suppressed their discoveries and then lost the evidence to the Bathists. The great grandson of the expedition's leader has eaten from my cunt. Anna let me use him once. She knows all the right people, the people with all the money. You know I am not into man whipping much myself, but I made that wimp pay a price for his great grandpa's stupidity. His one redeeming act was that Anna first learned about the old religion of female supremacy when he gave her an artifact great grandpapa had secreted out of Basra. He didn't know what the little effigy was, what it meant, but Anna guessed right. Now with more stuff from Egypt and soon Persia, Anna will have the all evidence."

Gina sighed, "That's great Ashley. But what good is it if Anna has to keep everything hidden? All that stuff was stolen. If she can't write about it, how can she 'change history'? Besides, it's just another goofy religion, just more hocus pocus, why should I care."

"First, and most importantly, Gina darling, my skeptical sweetie, care because I care. Now at least I know the truth of what actually happened; my knowledge of history has been set straight. Women once sat in the driver's seat while their slave boys pulled their chariots. 

"You know that generally I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks or believes. But, if only for my own satisfaction, I would like to everybody to understand that female supremacy had its day in the sun in the Islamic-Christian-Judeo-Baal-Ishtar tradition. I would love for the preachers and the popes, the rabbis and the imams, to chew on that one. Imagine those uptight religious freaks facing this truth; imagine the gnawing anxiety chewing at their gonads. Besides, proving the historical reality of the cult of female supremacy is Anna's life project, and I love Anna. You should not be so selfish Gina."

"Ok Ashley, but what about the little matter of larceny, the little matter of antiquity export laws, or accusations of grave robbing, not to mention the international uproar over the looting of national museums all over the Middle East?"

"It can all be fixed. Like with just about anything, all it takes is a little imagination. What if Anna recovers the stolen artifacts from the thieves who stole them? She will be a hero. What if she recovers the pilfered goods from Islamic extremists who intended the cultural jewels to be used in secret, blasphemous, rituals? Wahabists and Al Qaeda, sex perverts and idolaters. Anna would be a hero."

"Ashley, this is way over the top. We both concluded long ago that these sorts of complicated large scale schemes are bound to fail, just on the principle of what can go wrong, will go wrong. The last time she tried something like this it was disaster. It is not worth the risk."

"Gina don't forget the principle that people will believe anything they want to believe, almost without regard to real evidence. Also, don't forget Anna's amazing connections. She is intimate with important people in the Bin Laden and Saudi royal families and among the lords of the western press. It is a complicated scheme, and the details are not complete, but Anna is capable of anything. 

"Maybe this will ease my skeptical sweetie's mind. Anna just got a new set of artifacts from the Cairo museum, and she's reconsidering the whole thing. The occasional revolution can be such an opportunity. Anna says this stuff opens new doors. It seems renegades within ancient Egyptian royalty were secret Goddess cult devotees. Anna now thinks maybe the cult's claim to magic is real...Gina darling don't roll your eyes like that. I haven't gone soft in the head. I know religion is delusion. I don't buy any of it, even this one. But magic...magic is something different. Unlike religion, magic is more than bureaucracy and marketing. The claims of magic and miracles can be tested.




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 26



"Gina, your beautiful face makes me believe in magic, beautiful magic. My head says no, magic is just lying hocus pocus, but my heart says yes, magic must be true. Be a scientist, let the evidence decide. We can objectively test the cult's magic. If the magic works we will keep the secret a secret—and we will rule the world. 

"Stop worrying. It's complicated; it's risky, but hey, sometimes you just have to say what the hell. It could be fun, and you know what I say, girls just want to have fun.

"Let's go get Eric."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 27



Going Home

My chains rattled on hardwood between stretches of thick carpet runners. I staggered blindfolded down the labyrinthine halls of Corinna's mansion, limping from the ferocity of her last beating. Corinna's heavy breasted, coal black slave, a girl barely more than a teenager, dragged the show animal by its scrotum leash to yet another exhibition before a gathering of women. "Good, the parlor. Good, more women." My mouth watered in anticipation. 

"May it please your supreme Graces." Slave dropped the leash, stepped back, and left me standing alone on the presentation stage, suspended for judgment in air thick with sex scent and pulsing with lust-pressured breathing. Feminine stares crawled over my skin. The women scrutinized the quality of the flesh, appraised the exactitude of the manly submission, and assessed the tension between the man-slave's furious need to eat cunt and its yearning to be controlled, denied, and starved. "Play with me."

I stood naked. No not naked, festooned, bejeweled in baubles and stigma fitting my rank and function: a glinting cock cage, a tightly strapped ball gag, a blindfold, leather shackles on my ankles, wrists, throat, and scrotum—a chain dangled from my balls. My arms were pinned at the elbows behind my back, and fresh welts from the slash of Corinna's rod adorned my body, overlaying maturing bruises from weeks of beatings. My conquered manhood was ostentatiously caged. What was not visible, but still flaunted, were the deeper wounds to my mind, persona, and soul. "Play with me."

I tasted the feminized air. "Good, the room is full of hot pussy. Let me eat. How many are there? Wait...what is that?" Deep within the animal thing I had become, a memory of hope stirred in the twisted wreck of what I once was. "That's her scent."

A laughing song broke the hush. "Her laugh. Gina save me. Mock. I don't care. Your amused scorn is meant to wound, but look at what I've become, why shouldn't you laugh? Gina, your laugh, your haughty contempt, will save me.

"I became this loathsome, contemptible, meek thing for you. Laugh. Gina, I adore the song of your laugh. Can I give your something more? Take it. Is there any remaining taint of the man I was still to be scrapped out? Scrape. Do you like the welts on my body? Give me more. Are you amused? Laugh. I crave your cutting laugh as I crave the whip. I am your dutiful slave. Please Gina, anything; I will do anything to please you. Laugh, but please take me home. 

"The room is full of women. Some titter at the obscene display of this beaten man. One gasps in disgust. She cries, 'Oh, my. What have you done to him? Did you really have to go so far? I think I might be sick.'

"I know that voice. Shyanne is that you? Have these evil women taken you too? Or are you one of them? Shyanne my old friend, please don't remind of what I was. It hurts to remember that I was once a real man. You were my beautiful playmate in the easy life we shared. It was a life where I was in charge of you, our world, and myself. I had all the money I wanted, all the women I wanted. Why did I give that up? But of course it was all for Gina. 

"Shyanne, my comrade, my only true friend, look what I have become. Did they have to show me to you? Is this just one more disgrace, one more blotting out of pride, one more disfigurement of the long gone man I was? What can you think of me now? Your memory of your friend is besmirched. 

"I can summon a shameful sort of pride facing anonymous bitches as their obsequious slave, but did they have to bring you? But of course it is right. Flaunting my humiliation before my only friend is more shame, more justice. My ignominy should be displayed to the whole world that once thought me respectable. Well, no one thought me respectable, but I was enviable. I had all the toys guys dream of and all the trinkets of success. But this is too cruel. Shyanne, disgrace in your loving blue eyes cuts deeper than the whip. 

"Another voice, I remember that voice. Is that my cunt of a boss? Is that Ashley? Please Gina, please, why did you bring her?" 

Ashley cackled, "Shyanne darling, who are you to talk about going too far? Look at what you've done to Claudia. Yes, we had to go so far. Surely you remember what a conceited, unruly, and degenerate male he was. Besides, I like his new look, and I love his meek new attitude. Look at how agreeably sculpted his naked body is. All those manly muscles chained and bound should thrill any self-respecting woman. I find the whip marks becoming. It's all such sweet eye candy to the discriminating female eye. 

"But best of all Corinna has taught him some manners, taught him a man's proper place and appropriate attitude toward his female superiors. He stands so quietly, so politely, his head deferentially bowed in the presence of women. That is so much better than the arrogant, overconfident huckster he was. He is bound tightly of course, but there is no sign of rebellion. He is more than just accepting. Corinna tells me Eric earnestly respects women, and he worships cunt. Let's see if Eric is enjoying being exposed for our perusal, naked and bound. Let's see if he truly loves his status as our slave. Corinna, have your girl release Eric's cock from its cage."

Corinna answered grudgingly, "Anna is this really your pleasure? Well, if you insist. Personally, I find the sight of cock nauseating, but the customer is always right. Slave, release its cock." 

Slave knelt in front of me, ran her hands over my hips and fumbled with the buckles on the crotch harness that had tightly held my caged cock for months. She furtively kissed the front of my hip by the fold where my leg meets my crotch, then released my cock from its cage. 

I didn't know if I was still capable of an erection. My cock had been caged and suppressed for so long I worried that it might not work anymore. I had been thankful for the cage because locked up in steel my cock was the only part of me spared from punishment, except for the occasional demand of Corinna that Slave renew the decorative bruise upon its head. That had been its only reason for release. Even then, because intense pain was sure to follow, I did not get an erection.

I feared that I might have become impotent. Corinna had teased me that a cock caged and denied too long would never get hard again. But she said I should be grateful, because a thoroughly tamed man's capacity for erection must be destroyed. Otherwise, he must be nullified, rendered cockless. I was supposed to be thankful for impotence or else my cock would have to be chopped off. She rhapsodized about the delight of cutting off the cock, but leaving the testicles intact to drive the man mad with frustrated desire. 

Corinna had removed my blindfold when giving this little lecture so that she could fully savor my distress. She forced me to gaze into her smiling eyes as she described in detail the procedure and the pain of cutting off my cock. Corinna lasciviously relished my terror. She may have even climaxed just talking about mutilating my sex. Corinna despised the male sex organ. 

Slave did not. In secret, she told me she loved my cock and, though she did not release it, she often furtively kissed it in its cage. Slave bemoaned not having access to my unbound penis, not even to look at, but she still loved its smell. My dick swelled futilely against the steel bars of the restrictive cage, but it could not reach the beautiful girl hovering so close. Still, Slave inspired hope that I could still get hard, if I could get safely away from Corinna. 

All the other women I had known loved my cock, even Gina. I guess I had a little more than most guys. I had grown accustomed to the delighted surprise on the face of the latest girl when I unzipped and presented my cock, her big treat, before the first blowjob. Girls sometimes complained that my cock dangerously stretched their crammed pussies or throttled their jammed throats. But despite chaffing pussies and aching jaws they usually wanted more. 

I recalled one very sweet innocent whose simple naiveté incited arrogance. For fun at the end of our first date, I made the pretty thing reach into my pants and pull out my cock. Her surprise and fear desire egged me on. "Hold it both hands. Lick it. Put it in your mouth." 

"Please, it is too big. I..." Before she could say any more I forced my erection through her lips. "Like it?" She tearfully nodded and mumbled, "Yeah, buff..." I cut off debate with a quick thrust over her tongue. Her plump lips distorted to encircle my fat cock; her pretty mouth bulged. This was fun. "Make her swallow." My cock gagged a moaning complaint. "Humiliate the cute little bitch. First kiss? Get to know me." I wanted to come in her throat, but her struggle and tears were too much. I came too quickly. "Swallow." But she spit my semen out. She apologized. I said goodbye.

Nice, but not enough. I wanted the sweet little thing to swallow, dick down the throat and goo in the gut. So I stopped by her apartment unannounced the next night. She was happy to see me. But when I immediately demanded head, she whined about her sore jaw, and tried to beg off. I ignored that. I got her on her knees and made her hold my cock in both hands close to her face so that it would seem even bigger. 

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes, "I'm sorry. I'm bad. But this thing is so big. I don't think I can do it again, my jaw is so sore. I might choke. I couldn't breathe with it in my mouth last night. Please Eric, you're such great guy, I'd love to be your girl. You're great, I love your car, that dinner last night was great, and just being with such a cool guy makes me feel good. But this thing scares me. Can I use my hand, or can't you just fuck me? Let's get into my bed; let's fuck, please." 

That's not what I wanted. I wanted deep throat. I wanted her to swallow her fear and my come. I wanted to use that pretty face and watch her choke. I played with her, "Come on sweetheart; give it a try. Just lick it. Very nice, now just slip those pretty lips of yours over the top. See you're good at it; you're a natural born cocksucker." 

I lied. She was not that good at it, but her struggle turned me on. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she held my cock close to her face. She retched getting deep into her mouth. She tried to speak. I grabbed the hair on the back of her head and drove my cock. Her complaining squished to gurgling squeals. She tried swallow; she wanted to please. She was panicked, but trapped; her mouth was stuffed; her head was skewered. I drove at her and came quickly, turned on by her distressed submission. She never did get the whole cock into her throat, but she ate my come. 

I pulled out. She sank to the floor, and I carried her to her bed. She didn't say a word; she just looked up at me with big wet pleading eyes and a sad smile. I kissed her, and left. She called me several times after that begging to be fucked, but pleading not to have to suck my cock again. I told her to fuck off.

Most girls wanted more cocksucking. They loved my cock, and deep throat was an exciting challenge. Some of them would call me for months, even years, and beg for one more chance to suck my dick, no strings, no wining no dining, just one more chance at that big cock they liked so much. But my dick has gotten me into a lot of trouble. 

I fell dick first into this trap. I took one look at Gina in her slick black miniskirt, propped up on her shining patent leather stilettos, gliding across the car showroom floor, and my treacherous cock betrayed me. Gina raised her finger and beckoned, and my dick led me away to this. Now I was the one begging for mercy standing before an amused coven of exacting, coercive bitches. I had become the one with the big wet, pleading eyes. Eyes strapped behind a blindfold. 

As Slave let my cock loose for the first time weeks, I panicked, "Will it still work? Will the women be offended I get a hardon without specific permission? Can I get hard? What will Corinna do to it? 

"And what does Gina want? What does she expect? Corinna is right; my cock is dangerous. I know that. It made me arrogant. But I am better now; all I want is to eat pussy. Still, like Slave, Gina might enjoy, or at least have a use for my cock. Not for fucking of course, that is not questioned, but maybe for exhibition. My cock can be Gina's showy bantam. Her friends might like that. Gina, I know you love cock; do you still want mine? I hope it can still get big, if that is what you want. Can you find some sort of use for it? Play with me"

Even after Gina told me I could never fuck her again, she still played with my cock. She said it was pretty and that she liked the mouth feel. I hoped that meant she wouldn't cut it off, like that evil bitch Corinna threatened to do. But who knew? Silently I begged, "Gina, just let me eat pussy, and use my cock as you wish. Just please take me away from here."

I stood before the assembled women and anticipated their command thinking, "Ladies, your servant awaits your instruction. What is your pleasure? Slave is releasing my penis; it is uncoiling; blood is rushing into it. Will it get big; will it get hard, does it still work? Will it please the ladies? It hurts, but it is stretching. Damm this blindfolded, I can't see what is happening. Damm these shackles; I can't touch it."

Gina purred, "Oh that is lovely. I had almost forgotten what thick hard cock Eric has. Yummy."

"My love's voice is music. Oh, Gina I love you. Please take me home."

Ashley harshly mocked, "You see Shyanne. He has a huge hard-on, proof that he likes his new position. I knew he would like being exhibited like a cunt licking slave boy. Look at that cock, its oozing juice. Proof positive he truly loves being our slave. And to think that you let this boy and his big dick dominate you. You let him shove that thing down that pretty throat of yours. Shyanne, you are not just a disgraceful whore, but you are an ignorant, self-indulgent, and shameful slut. You dishonor your gender. 

"Gina, Anna, and I know what the boys really like. Shyanne, you know how to sell your dirty cunt on the street, but you have no idea what men really want, what they're really good for, or how to get the most out of them. You are just filth, a traitor to all self respecting women, blowing men in alleys for a few bucks, and serving this particular piece of shit in the most disgusting manner. Look at him; look at that giant hardon. He loves submission. 

"Even Eric would have preferred you to take the upper hand, but instead you just indulged yourself, without regard to anyone else, least of all your sisters attempting to right gender relations in this sad upside down world. Shyanne, I hope you are ashamed of yourself. Perhaps a few weeks in Corinna's finish school would do you good. That ooze is running down Eric's shaft. I don't want him staining Corinna's lovely rug. Suck up his precome before it drips."

Shyanne immediately went down, and I remembered that talented mouth. Corinna was revolted, "That is disgusting. Ashley stop her. I can't believe you would encourage any women to touch a penis with her mouth, especially a beauty like this blond slave of yours. And she has such a luscious mouth. I could find much better uses for that. Of course, now I'd have to wash her mouth out with soap. Give Blondie to me, and I will train her, gratis. Working on something that lovely, that blond, and that white would be a pure joy, even if I had to go easy on that delicate skin. 

"You know I'd also be very happy to do something about that boy's penis, something permanent to prevent it from leaking. It is really quite simple. I can just cut the damm thing off." 

Shyanne's dutiful tongue lapped up the precome drool dangling from my cock. But she wanted more. With a sudden drive, her lips enveloped my cock head, and my liquid mind poured into her warm embrace. "Her mouth is soft, wet and gentle. I remember." With professional competence, practiced skill, and loving surrender, Shyanne took my cock past her full strong lips, into her supple mouth, over her knowing tongue, and down her sensitive, yielding throat. "Thank you, my friend, I love you too. Yes, I remember. The world is dissolving into bliss. What's that commotion? Leave me alone. A voice, no a command...go away...but yes madam...it is feminine authority. It is Anna."

Anna commanded, "Ashley, call her off. The last thing I want is for that boy to come here. If he comes in that whore's mouth all of Corinna's work might come to nothing. The shameful slut is deliberately subverting us. We have denied him organisms for months and your greedy strumpet is trying to steal his come right in front of us. Stop her."

Someone tore Shyanne off me. A lisp hissed, "Get off. He's mine. They promised; he's mine."

Slave pushed me back, I stumbled and Shyanne pulled off my cock. A riding crop cracked repeatedly against skin, for once not mine, and it was not Shyanne being whipped either. Slave yelled, "Stop, you dumb cow. Get off her or I will whip those freak sized tits of yours." 

There was a tussle, but blindfolded I could not see what was happening. I was confused. Through repeated slaps of crop on skin the wispy lisp wailed, "I want him. Go on; hit me with your whip. Ashley promised him to me and I will get that cock. Hit me; hit me harder. I like it. His ass is still mine."

Ashley ordered, "Enough stop." 

Slave panted, "Shit Corinna, where do these people find freaks like that. Look at the muscles on that girl. Look at those tits. Sure as hell they're fake. It is a girl isn't?"

Anna said, "Yes, Slave, she is a woman, sort of. Actually, she's Ashley's lawyer. Ashley's have been running a little experiment on her, improving her. I think Shyanne pumped her up with a few to many hormones and she has gotten a little insane. She will be better in a few weeks. Right now, she needs to be punished for jumping on Shyanne like that. Corinna, would you be a dear a have Slave take Claudia away for a good sound whipping so we can have some peace for a moment?"

Corinna's maliciously sweet tenor agreed, "Of course. Slave take that thing downstairs. Clip a leash on her pussy ring and take her away. Ashley that's an interesting thing you made. I loved the way she grabbed her crotch and humped herself when Slave hit her with the crop. I can't believe the muscles and the tits on that cowgirl. Very weird, but something new; I like it. Could I play with it sometime?"

Ashley gaily beamed, "Of course. And you've done a wonderful job on Eric. Lending you Claudia is the least I could do. Keep her for the week. You and Slave can bring her to the party. Claudia would look good all whipped up. Don't hold back." 

Corinna's deceptively pleasant, buttery voice thanked Ashley, "That will be fun. What about Blondie? I'd love a couple of days with her. She is more my type. She is a looker. I'd like her for a couple of weeks sometime if you could spare her. But back to the show; let's play with the boy. Ladies, watch this."

My ball gag was released. Instinctively I fell to my knees. I waited to be directed to the first cunt. My mouth watered. Slave usually led me to the first cunt, but she had left with Claudia. I reached out in the direction of Gina's voice. I had spent countless hours dreaming of burying my face in my beloved Gina's pussy.

Ashley laughed, "Oh that is so precious. He is playing blind man's bluff. Reach out in the darkness and you may find some...pussy. Look he's drooling. Good doggy. You are a hungry cunt-sucking doggy aren't you? Here, kiss this."

A boot was shoved in my face. I licked it. It wasn't a high fashion boot Gina might wear, but a course biker boot. Still, the fragrant leather was spanking new. My tongue discovered the boot was ornamented with straps, buckles and chains. My tongue savored the velvety feel and taste of leather. The metallic tang of the decorative chains was the perfect accompaniment to the earthy flavor of leather. I bit down on the links of chain and sucked.




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 27



My mouth watered as I tongue polished the boot. There was a minimum of grit on the sole. I thought, "Let me lick from the heel up the inside of your ankle. Let me follow the familiar path up the inside of the boot, up the leg, far past the tender back of the knee, past the warmth and reach of your inner thigh, let me find the tunnel of love. Let me feast." She lifted her leg and I rose from the floor to follow the boot up; my tongue reached out and up.

The boot drew back and then slammed into my face. Stunned. The sole caught me flat on the nose. Blood rushed to my sinuses. The heel caught my mouth; I sucked my bleeding lip. I rock back on my heels remembering Gina doing the same thing to me in a distant past. 

Shyanne pleaded, "Please don't hurt him any more."

Ashley barked, "Shut up slave. You're already in trouble. If you don't behave I'll let Corinna hang you up in her dungeon next to Claudia."

Anna took control, calming all, "That's enough. Shyanne darling, please understand that just as you had to be harsh with Claudia, Eric required a firm hand. If he behaves, he won't get hurt too often any longer. I'm sure having had the benefit of Corinna's course of treatment; he will be good from now on. We just don't want him to have orgasms except under the strictest supervision. Shyanne, you are a slave. You can't have his come. But, you showed real talent in dealing with Claudia.

"Ashley let me have Shyanne for the night. I will teach her some manners. Shyanne, if Ashley can spare you, please come spend the night with me so that I can fully express my appreciation."

It was all too much for me. "Why don't they let me eat cunt? I don't know what these women want. All I want is pussy. I need pussy; let me eat. I can't see with this blindfold. Where is the pussy; where is Gina? There, is this Gina's boot? Yes, I smell Gina's pussy. But she's wearing leather pants. How can I get my tongue into her cunt? How can I find my way home?" 

Gina's hand gently pushed my face away from her crotch and she sang to me, "Sorry baby, no pussy just now. It's time to go home."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 28



Gina: Femdom 401

Gina found it all very amusing. By day, she played the ordinary college girl; by night, she became Splendid Bitch Goddess. And Anna was actually going to marry Edward? Was that funny or was it splendid? 

Each afternoon after classes and study, Gina met Ashley and they walked together to Anna. Once safely off campus Ashley took Gina's hand and they strolled as if sweethearts along the tree lined streets of the venerable New England town. The last scraps of summer had fallen to paste colorful patches on the gray sidewalks damp with autumn's mist. A few withered, recalcitrant leaves clung tenaciously to oaks hunkering down for winter's assault.

The tiny houses and narrow lots reminded Gina of home, except that everything was older and neater, and that sustained prosperity had vested the cottages with charm. Charm—the proprietor's admission ticket to trendy attainment. Back home streets with sidewalks were for scuffling losers. There the elect dwelled in oversized colonials planted in big sunny country lots roasting between bean fields. Home was cottonwood, not oak.

Gina and Ashley turned at Main Street. The brick sidewalk by Main was meticulously clean. A verdant culture of lawn fermented in the cool mists, and not a fallen leaf was abided. Summer's trash had vanished. Large old houses faced the main drag and bragged of generations of accomplishment. Gina was appropriately intimidated; she wasn't in Kansas anymore.

But Gina felt strangely back home each time Ashley turned to lead her off Main Street up the flagstone walkway to Anna's home. Gina carefully balanced footfalls on the damp rocks and recalled happy childhood afternoons following slick stepping-stones up country creeks meandering through rectilinear fields of industrial agriculture. The creek's high earthen banks hid the girl within its embrace. The creek's quilt of pure blue Chicory, white crowns of Queen Anne's lace, and multicolored remnants of the vanquished ancient prairie swaddled the daydreaming girl. There she was transported back to an imagined primordial wilderness. There the joyful girl's mind's eye hunted inspiration and gathered solace. 

Now Gina followed in Ashley's footsteps up the stepping-stone path through thriving rainbows of chrysanthemums wending her way back to Anna's world, back to Anna's grand ancestral manor. 

The careless observer might easily have missed the import of this building nestled so deeply off Main. They might have mistaken the grounds for a municipal park. Anna's home reposed on pillows of flower-embroidered hillocks, resting under the wide spreading branches of huge old open-growth oaks born in a pre-colonial savanna. The house of Anna quietly assumed its preeminence. Forest green gables trimmed in cranberry and plum peeped over a knoll cloaked in a mantle of long prairie grass rusting in autumn's damp toward wintry gray. A negligent critic might have declared the structure a painted lady, but the vibrant colors were as gentle as bold. Anna's dwelling was a carnival of decorum.

Edward served tea. The women sat discussing life's affairs while Edward knelt wordlessly at Anna's feet occasionally rising to serve. Edward filled their cups, tidied the table, and placed cubes of sugar per each woman's request. Then he unobtrusively slipped back to his knees. When the ladies were thoroughly relaxed and buzzing with caffeine and glucose, when the social tension was properly brewed, Anna would say, "Edward darling it is time for Gina's lesson in being a women. Clear the table and remove your clothes." Then Gina was educated in the ways of Anna's world. 

Anna would take Ashley's hand and would they cuddle in an antique loveseat observing and directing. The first time Gina struck Edward she was more startled than he was. "Pay no attention to his complaints; he likes it. Edward, be still. You'll give the girl the wrong impression." 

Gina happily beat Anna's beloved betrothed, the beautiful Edward, while Anna critiqued her performance with academic detachment. Gina was a quick study, but she could not fully comprehend Anna. What did she see in Edward? The perverse thrill of power was obvious, and Gina surprised herself by laughing at Edward's tears. But why waste so much time on this one, this lying, cringing, sobbing, submissive weakling? Gina imagined men lining up to cringe under her whip. But why marry one? Oh well, apparently this particular male was exactly what Anna wanted in her spouse. 

Gina awoke each morning in her narrow dorm cot to her roommate's snores and the other disquieting noises of the binge drinker. Gina snuck out for breakfast and sat as alone as could be managed in the overcrowded cafeteria sipping coffee and nibbling on plain whole grain toast, no fat, and no surgery goo. Gina tried to ignore the appalling drone of her fellows chatting about their dream boys and fantasy marriages. 

Yes, they would kiss that hot boy and transform him into a prince. He would be theirs, their virile accountant who would carry them away to a faux castle in the suburbs. The hot boys were all knights in shinning armor pining to sweep the beautiful damsels off their feet to live out contented soap opera marriages in the happy middle of the faux happy middle class. That is of course, soap opera marriages without all that soap opera infidelity. What, soaps without cheating? Now that would be a boring show. Love without pain is like a castle without a dungeon. 

By day, Gina studied liberal arts; by night, she studied darker arts, Femdom 101 with Professor Anna. Edward was Gina's workbook. Gina's studies progressed as Edward's autonomy regressed. She methodically transformed the dominating, cerebral Professor of Comparative Bullshit into a compliant pussy licking wimp. Gina excelled in her new studies, and, to Gina's surprise, Edward too was an apt and acquiescent student. She surprised herself in finding Edward appealing as whimpering cunt licker. Gina realized the fantasy role of heartbroken submissive was no longer for her; beating a whining slit slave was so much more engaging. 

Edward did anything Anna demanded, and Anna demanded a lot. Anna commanded, Edward submitted, and Gina practiced her new art—the black art of flagellation. Gina never saw Anna raise a hand against Edward. Gina was Anna's instrument. It was all quite splendid.

Anna told Gina she owned a bona fide medieval castle on a mountain in Bavaria. She and Edward would honeymoon there. Anna promised Gina that could come along and torture Edward in an authentic dungeon. 

On Monday morning, after the first weekend of beatings, Gina went to Edward's literature class brimming with bemused expectation. He didn't show. As the puzzled students drifted away, Gina called Anna and reported Edward's absence. Anna was furious. Apparently, Edward didn't want to show his face in public after the long humiliating weekend, but Anna had ordered him to go to work. Anna asked Gina to wait for Edward. 

He showed up in a rush almost an hour late, red faced and gagged by embarrassment. Everyone was gone but Gina. She smirked at him, and called Anna. "He's here. He's blushing, and he looks a little sick, but he finally showed up." Gina said nothing to the defeated man and left him standing alone in the empty classroom. Edward had intended to obey Anna, but he just could not bring himself to show up at his class with Gina, so he had hid in his office. Gina turned and sauntered away. Edward's lust for Gina's lovely rolling ass was more intense than ever, though it was now tempered with fearful respect. 

That evening Anna had Gina over and Edward was soundly punished. When the class met again on Wednesday, Edward appeared and lectured, but he was nervous and his charismatic flare had vanished. The students all noticed and Gina again reported to Anna. Edward was punished again and told he would have to do better. By Friday, his lecture had improved. He stumbled a bit, but when Gina brought out her phone, Edward caught his breathe, buckled down and performed as commanded. A few of the other students wondered at the bemused smirk on their eccentric classmate's pretty face, but nobody realized how that look terrified their Professor. 

Throughout the following weekend as Gina beat Edward, Anna repeatedly lectured him on her expectation that he continue his daily routine as a competent professional and someone worthy of being her spouse. Anna circled her betrothed writhing on the floor under Gina's withering thrashing and lectured, "Edward, are you listening to me? When I want you to crawl, crawl. When I want you to bawl, bawl. But when I want you to stand pretend to be a man and stand. 

"Always remember that you are my slave, but be a slave worthy of me. I want my slave to be a man the public fears and respects. Make me proud. You should always be aware that you are my slave, and when we are together in public, you will always display an attitude of the utmost deference toward my friends and me. You will treat the rest of world with the contempt and condescension that comes so naturally to you. Don't be a weakling. Understand? If you embarrass me, I will have this lovely young witch beat you senseless. 

"Gina, hit him harder so he takes this lesson to heart. Hit him in the crotch." 

By the next week, Edward's public performance was near normal, but he still couldn't bring himself to look into Gina's smirking face grinning up at him from the front row of his class. 

One lesson in flagellation had Gina gag Edward and tie him to the foot of Anna's day bed. Anna and Ashley reclined in each other's arms while Gina used Anna's crop on Edward. As the man whined and struggled under her whip Gina obsessed over how Edward had fucked her in the ass, how he had taken her for granted, how he had delighted in hurting her feelings, had used her, had berated her, then beat her, and how he had taken sick pleasure in humiliating her and exploiting her innocence. With each swing of the crop, Gina's anger surged. 

Panting Gina looked up. Anna and Ashley were locked in an impassioned embrace, mouth to mouth, Ashley on top grinding her jean clothed crotch into Anna's naked pussy. Anna had lifted her dress, thrown off her panties and spread her legs to take Ashley as if she were a man. Anna's naked hips rose to meet Ashley's thrusts; her ravenous mouth sucked as if to devour Ashley's driving tongue.

A plume of lust rose in Gina's boiling caldron of anger. Gina looked down on the man at her feet and swung the crop. Lust surged. Again the crack of the crop. Again the male screamed. Gina's anger and lust fused into a single molten slug of passion. Gina looked down on the man at her feet. He was crying, he was striped with red welts, and he had an enormous erection. She swung again, he screamed again, and the volcano erupted. Gina trembled, buckled, and climaxed.

She had not touched herself. The exercise of pure power brought her to orgasm. Gina was amazed. Gina looked to Ashley but she was engrossed in dry humping Anna on the day bed. Gina loved them, but she knew she was not one of them. She looked at the whimpering man lying before her and knew that she needed one of her own. Ah, so that was what Anna saw in this male. Gina would have one too.

Anna was in charge of Gina's femdom instruction but Ashley also encouraged, and guided Gina. Ashley watched and offered advice as Gina whipped Anna's submissive fiancé, but she herself didn't partake of the beatings. Ashley said that she had some other, younger boys under her rule and that she was getting her fill of male beating with them. Anna also said she thought it best that Edward receive his corporal punishment from the hand of one woman at a time, a sort of monogamy. It seemed to Gina, based on the bruises on Edward's body, that she really was the only one inflicting any punishment on Edward. 

Anna told Gina this was not quite the case. Anna herself did not use the whip on her fiancé; rather she preferred to chastise him occasionally with a simple openhanded slap. Anna then walked up to Edward. He cowered at her approach. A fleeting, uncharacteristic snarl flashed in her Anna's face. She reared back and swung, sadistically slapping Edward across the cheek. Edward winced, his eyes watered, but he stood straight and, looking into Anna's eyes, panted, "Thank you my love." 

Looking directly into Edward's eyes Anna addressed Gina, "When you get a man to a certain level of submission, regular beatings are no longer necessary or sufficient. Edward is still in need of having his ass spanked, but its time we start him on a regime of testicle torture. That will be the final nail, so to speak. I will show you how it is done in your next lesson." 

Ashley was a pretty girl, but not beautiful like Gina and Anna. Her hair was an ordinary light brown; she was trim, but not curvaceous. Her skin was clear and fair, but not faultless porcelain like Anna's skin. Ashley had fine attractive facial bones, and her eyes were an appealing soft brown, but she was not fashion model stunning like Gina. Guys looked twice, but it didn't hurt to look away. Ashley generally didn't wear make up or dress the part of a fem fatale, but when she did, she could get the boys hot. Unlike Gina who would drive men mad with absolutely no effort or intent, Ashley had to work a little to present the image of a babe. 

But Ashley preferred to dress in the same blue jeans and motorcycle boots just about every day. It was sexy in a tough girl kind of way, but most of the upwardly mobile college boys (and girls) didn't get it. However, occasionally just for fun Ashley showed up looking great in make up, designer jeans, expensive jewelry, and fashion boots. When Gina asked what guy she was after, Ashley laughed and said all of them. She said she wanted to get them all hot, so she could spend the day thinking about all that cock lusting after her.

Ashley knew fashion and liked buying clothes. She just wasn't crazy about walking around the campus looking like a model on the cover of a magazine. Ashley especially liked buying clothes for Gina. Gina was her dolly. She tried to lavish Gina with gifts and clothes as well as advice on dominating men. Gina finally had to ask Ashley to stop buying her all that stuff, in particular clothes. She had nowhere to put it, and she really only wanted to wear simple jeans and tee shirts like Ashley. 

They compromised by agreeing that Ashley could buy Gina costumes for her sessions with Edward. Ashley shopped to her heart's content. She bought Gina all sorts of fetish attire—black leather, red leather, kid leather, blue. They kept it all in a dressing room at Anna's house where they would meet before their sessions with Edward. Ashley adored dressing Gina, doing her makeup, her hair and applying her perfume. Ashley treasured her chance to touch Gina, mold Gina, and transform Gina into a vision of terrifying beauty. Then Gina would make her grand entrance before the commanding Instructor Anna and her sniveling fiancé.

Ashley loved playing dress up with Gina, and Gina loved having Ashley close. Gina longed for Ashley's affection and approval. Gina learned to like the dress up parties. Ashley's bewitching presence, her loving attention, her smells, her touch, her fondling enchanted Gina, but Gina knew she could not love Ashley as more than a friend. Gina could not be a real lesbian like Anna and Ashley, and that rift pained her. 

The touching led to kissing. At first, it was playful, innocent pecks on the hand, the cheek, lips, then a light-hearted lick, and soon the wet slip of a hungry tongue. Gina liked Ashley's peppermint taste, and she wanted to please the most wonderful person she had ever known. Gina let Ashley kiss her; it was fun. So what if she was kissing a girl, Ashley was a great kisser. They shared the chewing gum. 

Social or gender bothers paled beside Gina's jitters about any human touch. But once this revulsion collapsed, Gina pardoned herself. She permitted herself to luxuriate in the physical truth of Ashley's warm body, luscious flesh, and animal love. Her adolescent hero worship of Ashley liberated Gina, and so she indulged Ashley with full access, no boundaries. Gina let the kisses ripen into long, deep make out sessions. Somehow that was ok, just more fun, just more play, just more instruction—French Kissing 101. Gina let Ashley put her hand under her jeans and slip her fingers into her pussy. It was strange letting a girl do that to her, it was good-bad, but not evil. It met the moral standard: it felt good. The perversity was a plus. 

Ashley pulled off a long deep kiss and withdrew her hand from under Gina's jeans. Ashley licked Gina's wetness from her fingertips while adoring her love through eyes blurred with liquid lust. Her lips trembled an apologetic smile as she pulled off Gina's jeans. Ashley slithered down to Gina's crotch, slipped her tongue into the extravagant feast calling to her, and indulged herself. As Ashley manipulated Gina toward orgasm, Gina drifted into private erotic dreams about boys—boys; she was no lesbian. Gina recalled the taste of boy cream, and then came.

Ashley received Gina's cream with satisfaction. She rose to her knees between Gina's thighs and suggestively licked her upper lip with a come-hither lap of her tongue to beg for her turn. 

Trust was the cushion that made the touching possible, but flinty honesty was the foundation of trust. Gina knew she must come clean. Her orgasm still reverberating through her body and shimmering in her glowing face, Gina looked down into Ashley's beseeching eyes and confessed.

"Oh, Ashley that was good, but...you are so good to me, but I don't think I'm like you and Anna. You are so pretty, prettier than any boy, but...but when I come I am not thinking of you, I am thinking about boys. Please don't be angry, I love you...but I love you as a friend, a girl friend, not as my lover. I love you...I mean I like you...it. No, don't look at me like that; don't leave. I'm sorry, I'm joking...no, yes...let me do it. I want it...I mean you. I'll try. I will do anything for you. I love you, I love being touched by you, I love your smell, feeling you near me, everything, but...there's something wrong with me. I need boys, I need men." Gina broke down crying.

Ashley laughed gently. "Don't be such a cry baby. I like boys too. I guess I like girls a little more, a little differently, than you do, but that's ok. Don't let me take you places you don't want to go. Remember you are a goddess; don't let anyone push you around, not even me. What I really want from you just to be close, to look at your beautiful face, and to have fun. So don't cry, ok buddy?"

And so Gina and Ashley became even closer friends. Ashley stopped trying to seduce Gina and instead took her to her apartment in the city away from the college to pick up guys at hot urban nightspots. Of course Gina and Ashley could just sit at the bar and pick any guys they wanted. Gina was amazed at how easy it was. And the guys were amazed and grateful that two such gorgeous women would choose them and grant immediate, complication free sex. Gina and Ashley never did the same guys twice. For the most part these trips were all about straight conventional sex, one on one, separate bedrooms.

At least for Gina it was straight fucking. One time as the night ended and the girls sent the boys home, Ashley couldn't stop grinning at her guy. He looked frightened and frustrated. He would not make eye contact with anyone. He acted as if he couldn't get away fast enough, and yet he wanted to stay. Ashley actually had to push him out of the door. Then she leaned against the closed door and smiled. Gina said, "What was that all about?"

"You sure you want to know all the sordid details my pretty? That boy could be a keeper. I got him in the bed and he went down on me right away. He came up for air acting like he thought it was my turn, so I pushed him back down and down he went, gobbling more pussy. He tried getting off his knees again, but by then I knew exactly what he was and what I wanted from him. 




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 28



"He was an excellent, practiced cunt sucker. So I told him what great pussy eater he was and I told that was all he was going to get. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. He knew his place; he went down and he stayed down. I think I came a half dozen times. I told him I would be disappointed if he came at all, and he didn't. I told him he should go home and beat off, and, because he did such a diligent job of sucking my cunt, he had my permission to think of me while he jacked off. Do you think he will?" 

Back at the college in her day job milieu Gina was still the shy, studious Midwestern schoolgirl. Guys tried hooking up with her, but since Gina had the option of anonymous encounters in the city, and because she couldn't even attempt to explain the strange details of how she spent her time, she politely declined. Some called her stuck up, or worse—Gina was dismissed as just another of Ashley's weird friends. Ashley's friends were notorious. She led a small clique of cohorts, misfits all. One of these was Veronica.

Veronica was in Gina's art class, Oils 101, but that didn't mean Gina knew her. Between the two of them, they were the quietest introverts in the class. That was their only similarity. Gina was aloof and introverted, but entirely self-possessed. Veronica was shy in the more traditional, self conscious, self-hating way. She was pretty, but fat, bulgingly obese. Her art was competent, but too safe, too pretty.

Because her tits were so big, Veronica needed to stand away from the canvas and apply delicate dabs and dainty strokes. One day Veronica's breasts swung and brushed her canvas. Veronica failed to notice. Color was smeared on her smock in two bright smudges at the summits of her twin peaks. 

The other students left the class early one by one when they could no longer contain their giggles. Even Gina left; though she was less amused at Veronica's ridiculous faux pas than disgusted with the other student's adolescent giggles. Finally, Veronica realized she was alone. She stepped back and saw what she had done to her canvas, to her smock, and, to her esteem. She had painted herself into a laughing stock. That was why everyone avoided her and left her alone. What little self-confidence she collapsed into mortification. 

Gina really got to know Veronica through Ashley. When Ashley introduced Gina to Veronica, they smiled and acknowledged they were in the same class but neither had anything to say to the other. Later Ashley told Gina that Anna was interested in Veronica because Veronica, believe it or not, had the highest entrance scores in the freshman class. Anna had interviewed Veronica and approved her admission. Anna had discovered what no one else would have guessed about the shy fat girl—she was both smart and interesting. And so Anna took Veronica her under her wing. That meant Ashley and Gina would be expected help Anna in saving Veronica from what ever it was that was eating her up inside. It meant Ashley and Gina were to be Veronica's friends.

Gina went along to please Ashley and Anna. Veronica was happy to have someone to talk to, and soon, after some hemming and evading, some lying and crying, Veronica spilled her guts about the handsome boy who had abused her in high school. Through her tears, Veronica told Gina and Ashley how she had served the every whim of a sociopathic boy throughout high school. The boy made her suck his cock several times a week. He flaunted his other girlfriends before her and the whole school, but swore Veronica to secrecy about their relationship. He made her give him money, made her help in his seduction of other girls, and even made her do his homework. 

Veronica sobbed as she described how once he made her crawl on the floor with her tits bound in ropes. She confessed that she had done anything the boy asked because she was in love, and she wanted to keep him in her life. She admitted she had never told him how she felt because she knew he would dump her. Veronica acknowledged that she was too fat to be the girlfriend of such a handsome boy, that she was not worthy, and that she had been content with the privilege of sucking his cock. He was right; she was just too fat to fuck. After he graduated, her love left town for college and would not return her calls. Veronica sobbed, "I wonder who's doing Eric's homework now? I miss him."

Gina listened impatiently and then interrupted, "Stop whining. If you didn't like it, you could have stopped. What the hell are you crying about, you got the cock you wanted, and my guess is you liked being treated like a slave, a sex slave."

Sex slave? Veronica was taken aback, and not just because Gina had no sympathy for her wrenchingly sad love story, for her woeful tale of painful romance, her teenage crucifixion at the hands of her cruel and twisted boy lover, but because Gina was right. The harsh truth stung more than Gina's summary dismissal of her complaints. She did like being abused by Eric. She did want to be a sex slave, whatever that was. She had never really faced that fact. 

Yet even that morning lying in her dorm cot she had dreamed of the time Eric had wrapped her huge tits in ropes until they obscenely bulged hanging heavy like stiff sacks, her nipples popping out, dragging on the floor as she crawled to Eric's cock. She pretended to sleep until her roommate left. Then Veronica drove her fingers into her cunt, and squeezed her enormous breasts, then pulled her nipples up into her mouth and bit, and finally furiously whacked her clit obsessing on Eric's abuse. She did not understand why she always wanted more, but she did. 

In bitter silence, Veronica glared at Gina thinking, "Ok so Eric's abuse got me hot; so what if dreaming about it still gets me hot? By all conventional measures, I was a helpless victim of an abusive male. So what if that makes me wet. Can I get some sympathy? Can't I treat myself to that sweet gooey pleasure of feeling sorry for myself?

"This pretty girl just dismissed it all as self-indulgence. So what? I like self-indulgence. That's why I am fat. If I don't indulgent me, no one will. What does she know about being the fat ugly duckling? What does she know about being ignored and laughed at? All the boys want this pretty thing but she ignores them, just like they ignore me. I have the biggest boobs any of those boys have ever seen, much bigger than that skinny girl. That's what they like. And I would suck their cocks, crawl for them and even give them money. I would do all the dirty things the boys want. It's not fair." 

Veronica's face warmed; her pussy flushed.

Finally, Ashley intervened, "Veronica, don't be embarrassed. If you like being used let yourself be used. Don't apologize. I liked that story. He tied you up? Tied up your tits? Sounds like fun. Gina meant no disrespect; she has her own tales of perversity. Right Gina? I can see why the boy ... you said his name was Eric? I can see why he wanted to tie you up. You have the most amazing boobs. If you let that boy play with them, maybe you would let Gina and I play with them. I too have tales of perversity. I like tying people up. What do you say?"

Veronica was putty in Ashley's hands. Veronica had been masturbating to breast bondage fantasies for years ever since the single time Eric had done it to her. Once she had gone to the hardware store, bought rope, and had tied herself up, squeezing her tits until they turned purple. But that had frightened her, so she never did it again, except in her daydreams. And so she surrendered herself to Ashley and Gina. 

Veronica submitted to Ashley and agreed that once she was thoroughly bound, Gina would paint her portrait to memorialize her submission. Gina was inspired, "I'd like to paint you all naked, bound up, and stuff. There certainly is a lot of you there to tie up. You know Anna collects ancient figurines of fat ladies. Your, lets call it abundant, body reminds me of the statues she calls fertility deities. We can use the ropes to sculpt all that flesh, to subdue, bind, and objectifying the fertility goddess, and then immortalize her in a portrait to share with the world. It seems a worthwhile project. I can't wait to see those monster breasts in ropes."

The portrait of the goddess in bondage was Gina's breakthrough into the world of high art. Anna arraigned a showing in Paris of the best of Gina's stash of erotic art. Then Anna arraigned the ensuing critical acclaim. Gina was beyond doubt uniquely talented and creative, but the critics needed Anna's nudge before they could dare to acknowledge Gina's decadent genius. But once accepted Gina became the artist of the day. And she became rich. 

Despite her complete conquest of the world of international art, Gina tried to finish school; she loved learning. But finally, her fame as the great artist of perversion made social life at the small town New England school too problematic. Anna arraigned that Gina complete her degree through independent study while living at her place in the south of France.

Anna and Edward were married at the castle in Bavaria. Anna left immediately after the wedding to visit and/or fuck friends throughout Europe leaving Edward to Gina. While Anna toured Europe in a whirlwind of parties and affairs, Gina tortured her husband in the dark dungeon under the Bavarian hills. That was the honeymoon. 

After a few weeks, Gina told Anna that she had had enough of man beating. Anna thanked Gina and declared her graduated with honors. Anna came back to her castle with Veronica in tow. Gina took them to the dungeon where Edward lay naked chained by an iron collar to the stone wall. Anna said, "Veronica, you will tend to my husband from now on. Thank you Gina, your assistance has been invaluable."

Gina smiled and kissed Anna's hand, "Thank you Mistress Anna; my service to you has been a joy and a revelation. Veronica, take good care of Edward." Gina ran hand across Edward's upturned, supplicant face. His eyes teared-up as Gina said goodbye. Gina smiled lovingly down on Edward, "And thank you Edward. You have shown me the latent possibilities in males. Someday I will have a husband just like you. At last, I realize the potential of marital bliss. What a beautiful wedding it was and what a perfect marriage it will be. Weddings are such fun."

Cowering like a beaten dog, Edward peeked at his new governess. His heart sank; hope fled like a cowardly traitor. Edward trembled beneath Veronica's lusting grin.

Veronica became Anna's chambermaid, academic assistant and, once Gina left, spousal disciplinarian. Veronica was finally happy, but she didn't lose weight. It was decided she was meant to be voluptuously obese. Anna did arrange liposuction and body sculpting so that Veronica's hanging gut was removed. Veronica still had the chubby face, chubby legs, sprawling hips, and giant tits; but her tightly corseted waist defied probability, like an hourglass strangling time. It was an extreme look. Veronica minced about precariously balanced on high heels, her waist so thin it seemed it could not support the swaying weight of her huge breasts above her fleshy bottom and fat thighs.

When Anna first took her out socially, Veronica was intensely embarrassed by the stares her oddly erotic look drew. But the pain of humiliation aroused Veronica's sexual core, and soon she threw herself into the masochistic spectacle. Soon she indulged her emotional nucleus, the disturbing fact she once could not admit.

Veronica slyly, but enthusiastically exhibited her freakish body to curious strangers and subtlety announced her subservience to Anna. She always addressed Anna as madam. She always walked a few paces back, and she constantly hung on Anna's every word and nuanced expression. She took any occasion to flaunt her giant tits, her submission, and to smear herself shamelessly with shame. Veronica luxuriated in the lustful stares, disdainful reproaches, and jealous censure of puzzled strangers. Veronica ostentatiously expressed gratitude when Anna took the time to publicly scold or berate her. Veronica became a real show off. Anna had cured Veronica of her shyness.

Veronica wrote Anna's paper on the Sumerian cult of dominant women, but not all the evidence could be revealed. The academic community did not accept the hypothesis; there was not enough proof to overcome their prejudice. In typical academic fashion, Anna's enemies denied the validity of any evidence that disturbed their worldview. Anna's adversaries successfully dismissed the whole theory. 

When Anna's paper was met with skepticism, her many enemies came out of their holes to rejoice at her embarrassment, and to plot her downfall. The paper's failure was exacerbated by the scandalous sexual nature of Anna's theory that a cruel cult of female supremacy lay at the foundations of Western religion in ancient Mesopotamia. What sort of pervert would concoct such a thing? The vultures circled. Anna foolishly suggested there had been a conspiracy to suppress earlier research and that more evidence might be found. Truth was no defense; her rivals launched a full-scale attack to destroy Anna's academic and personal reputation. Anna's status hung in the balance.

Although the controversial paper had come out under Anna's name, Veronica, her academic assistant, had written it. Anna used this fact to save her herself by arranging that the blame for the paper's failure be attributed to Veronica. Veronica admitted fraud and falsely confessed to having deceived Anna. She was publicly excoriated and expelled from the graduate program. 

Hope for an independent academic career for Veronica was crushed. But Veronica eagerly admitted guilt, accepted blame, and cleared Anna's reputation. She happily ruined herself for Anna. Veronica testified to the ethics committee that she had misled Anna, had acted alone under Anna's name, and that she had deliberately committed a hoax. Criminal charges were barely avoided. The vultures were frustrated, Anna was saved, and Veronica was ruined. But Veronica didn't care She was Anna's chattel. She was content to serve Anna however possible.

None-the-less, Anna's reputation and pride were tarnished. She vowed to repair the damage. Anna suspected further evidence might still be found because the site in ancient Ur had been dug before she got there. Anna located the site based on rumors that a 1930's British expedition had found the temple of Inanna, the Vatican of the legendary cult of female supremacy. But Anna could find no written record anywhere of that expedition's results. She set out on an archaeological expedition through the jungles of academic and political deception. At last, she discovered that complete evidence of the truth was hidden in the basement of the national museum in Baghdad. She had to liberate the goods, even if a little war was needed to throw open the doors of the museum. After all Inanna was the goddess of war, as well as love.

After the failure of Anna's paper Ashley suggested that the girls locate Eric and plan a more realistic project. They could take revenge on him: personal revenge for what he had done to Veronica in high school, revenge against all such arrogant cads, revenge on men generally for not acknowledging the superiority of women, and proxy revenge against the narrow minded academics who would not acclaim Anna's genius. It would make Anna feel better, and destroying the boy would be a more practical task than destroying the world's patriarchal dictatorship. Project Eric was a simple amusement meant put out of mind the fiasco of the paper, and to bind the girls in the thrill of the hunt. It was Veronica's recompense, Anna's diversion, and a play date for Ashley and Gina.



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 29



She Belongs to Me

"Honey, I home." My heart stopped and a lump gagged my throat. Routine autonomic functions ceased, while my mind jolted to sharp attention from the numbing slog of household chores. "She's here. Home, yes home, my love is home with me." With the patience of a flower opening to the morning sun, my heart began to beat again and the warmth of love's flush enfolded me. "All is right." 

I was on my knees for her. A heavy knot of leather, steel, and beaten flesh hung from my crotch—for her. My defeated manhood struggled to rise in salute to its sovereign's voice; it failed. My cock just swelled into the embrace of the bars of its jail. The dishonor dangling in my crotch was veiled behind the lacy apron Gina had commanded that I wear as I knelt at my household drudgery. Steel ruled my rebellious manhood; girly frills mocked its defeat—for her. All was right.

Her steely rule was but proper; I was not competent to govern my animal nature. "Thank you my loving sovereign; I surrender." The cage vanquished my mutinous cock. The sissy apron mocked my enfeebled manliness, flaunting my willing subjugation to Gina's command, and proclaiming her feminine victory—a lacy pink flag flying heroically over her conquest. "I surrender." Blissful capitulation spilled through my veins as I rose stiffly from the bathroom floor. I put down the scrub brush and limped to the front door to greet my beloved tyrant. 

Gina was a vision of cold intimidating beauty. She wore her long luxurious mink over a simple black turtleneck, tight leather pants, and flat-heeled boots—her uniform—simple, authoritative, and enthralling. The chill of winter hung about her. Her short, jet-black hair was slicked back. Gina's astonishing eyes still stunned me, and I struggled to cast my gaze down as befit a slave. I failed; my eyes could not turn from her beauty. 

My love stood impassive, remote with arms crossed, luscious lips pursed, and brow raised in a judgmental, askance glare. She glowered critically assessing me as I approached. And yet there was a slight glimmer of a mocking laugh twinkling faintly, ice dancing silently, on the arctic menace in her eyes. And, perhaps, (or did I dream?) even a hint of an affectionate smile suppressed beneath her frown, or lurking in the corners of her closely drawn lips.

Gina was having her fun. Good, but I could not allow a scrap of levity in my expression or demeanor. I scolded myself, "Eric, this is Gina's show. You must be her well-mannered puppet. Be careful, nothing flippant now before your arrogant goddess." Gina's haughty expression bid me to submit in heartfelt seriousness. She might laugh; I must grovel. 

I melted to my knees before her frightful beauty. She offered her foot and I gratefully kissed her boot still cold from the damp streets of the fading winter. She turned her back to me, lifted her arm and cocked her hand slightly, inviting me to take her fur. She wore an Egyptian ring, a gift from Anna. I rose to lift the mink from her graceful shoulders and the warmth of Gina's slight body billowed forth. The mink was cool, slick and heavy in my hands. I floated in the swirling aroma of leather, and swam in her body's heat. I love the smell of leather...but, oh no, there was more. She'd done it again. Sex, spunk, the earthy scent of infidelity—Gina noted the distress brimming in my eyes. She nodded a pity smile. Then Gina touched my cheek lightly, and her face transformed into a cheery sneer as wounding as a spit into my face. 

I scolded myself, "Do not cry. Do not complain. She may do whatever she likes." My heart demanded, "Surrender." 

"Oh, don't look so sad, my little puppy." Gina patted my head, smirked, and scornfully mocked me, "I have so enjoyed my morning. Have you enjoyed cleaning my house? I expect my toilet to be sparkling." Gina winced slightly and walked off without further acknowledgment of my attendance, a slight hitch playing counterpoint to her sexy saunter. The scent of betrayal drifted in her wake. I dutifully attended to her fur and followed. She's an artist; she don't look back.

I poured the remnants of last night's chardonnay and approached my ruler comfortably enthroned in a swiveling lounge chair in front of the fireplace. I went to my knees, bowed my head, and presented the wine with supplicant hands. She ignored my offering. Her ring sparkled, "Tonight I am taking you to a special party at Anna's. You can think of it as a sort of one-man pet show if you like. My friends have been inquiring about your progress. You know some of them, and they all know everything about you. They know what a conceited slut boy you were and of our efforts to cure you. The ladies are curious to see what remains of the masculine ego after it has been felled, had its pith of arrogance cut out, and been obliged to embrace feminine rule.

"Your former secretary Shyanne will be there. I know how much you liked her, how you used her even after you entered my life, and how stupidly she respected you. We will remedy that; Shyanne will beat you while the rest of us watch. I considered inviting every woman you ever abused so that they could whip you; unfortunately, there are just too many. After Shyanne gets you warmed up, each guest will have her fun with you. Who do you think will be more cruel, those who always found you despicable, or those who succumbed to your wicked charms? Some surprise guests are invited.

"Do you remember the last time you were allowed an orgasm? You were chained to Anna's whipping table and she beat your balls until you shot your man slime into the sky." 

I burned with shame at the illicit orgasm I had allowed Slave to suck from me that first day at Corinna's house of correction. I attempted confession. "Mistress, I failed. Corinna's girl, she...she..."

"Oh that's right; Corinna told me all about that. Of course she knew, stupid. Surly you don't think a cunt-sucking slave is allowed any secrets. Slave betrayed you to Corinna immediately. You're lucky I didn't let Corinna cut your balls off, slit your gonads as she put it. See how nice I am? Still, you have been denied a long time. Trying to keep secrets and interrupting me—I will add these to the list of your crimes to be punished.

"As I was trying to say before you so rudely interrupted, the Anna occasion was filmed. It was quite a performance. I also videoed you giving head for Corinna's clients. Corinna calls that face time. You never suspected I was there, did you? I have adapted the video into a fascinating art film. Some of tonight's guests have already previewed it. They were most impressed. My film is high art; it transcends simple porn. It's a message film—male enslaved, phallus bound and beaten by Woman, the triumph of the matriarchy over patriarchal misrule. I wanted to call it 'Victory of the Cunt' or maybe 'Servant of Slit', but I didn't want to frighten the philistines. It is our intent to reach the broadest possible market, so I choose something ambiguous: 'Face'. You like giving face, right, my slithering slit sucking slave?" Gina sniggered in my face.

"Because of my reputation as an artist and because of the 'redeeming social and artistic value', I will be able to get away with presenting the film at Cannes. It is gorgeous. I made it very pretty as counterpoint to the violence actually depicted. There are slow-motion images of floating ropes of come, sweat exploding under the flat business end of Anna's riding crop, and balls dancing to the beat of their tyrant's hacking lash. The hushed slow motion lends a peaceful remove from the ferocity. Sequential renderings of the blooming bruises on your scrotum are envisioned as a lovely budding flower. It is all quite beautiful, very arty. And then there is your face. You are such an expressive actor—the beads of sweat, the open mouth issuing silent screams, the agony, and the eager way your snout routs around in all those cunts. The sound track is fabulous. I took your screams and turned them into an aria backed by the rhythmic percussion of crop on skin. 

"Because of Anna's of influential friends, my film will be shown at Cannes, and it will win a prize. That much is quite set. Each Bridget Bardo wanna-be at the festival will flush with embarrassment at what she finds herself yearning to do to her boyfriend. The lefty French intellectuals with will imagine my film to be a political allegory. They need that to permit themselves to enjoy the porn. Each art critic and would be social engineer will parade their feminist 'narratives' to cover their mortification at the juices flooding their crotch, even the men, especially the men. It's odd how leftist males are such nervous but eager cunt suckers, but right-wingers so often need a good kick in the balls to direct them to their rightful place on their knees before their ruler. One might expect lovers of authority to be more disposed to flaunt submission to their superiors. 

"So we will be going to a film festival, to France, land of the cunt lickers. You will fit right in. Do you like the idea of being a movie star? You can be sure you will be a star; everyone will be so curious about you. I will have you speak at the discussion after the screening. You can tell all the nice people how much you enjoy eating pussy and being beaten, and how you live to serve controlling females. Consider what those people will think of you. Can you imagine their envy and envision their contempt? The scent of sexual need will permeate the room."

Would Gina do that to me? Would she make me stand before those horny foreign strangers and humiliate me like that? Of course. 

When I was an early adolescent, I had a recurrent nightmare of walking stripped naked, lost, and forlorn down a lonely street. The dream was appallingly vivid. I lay paralyzed in my bed frightened, mortified, and yet erect with inexplicable lust. I dreamed I stumbled down a narrow cobblestone street through an ancient village, alone but compelled by an unseen feminine force walking me to my ruin. Impassive, hostile peasants cowering in low darkened doorways of mud huts stared at me. This recurrent nightmare always turned my cock to stone, spawned nocturnal emission, and left me lying in a puddle of semen, cold sweat, and confusion. The taste of fear lingered into the day, now even to this day. 

Now Gina intended to force me to stand before a foreign public to endure shame, disgrace and sexual humiliation. It seemed the nightmare had returned, and again I lusted for its dread. The bars of my cock cage pressed hard; I was as engorged as the steel would permit.

Gina continued, "I took great care to show close-ups of your face so that anyone who knew you would certainly identify you. Anna will remain anonymous; the editing protects her identity. Under her gorgeous red hair flying about, her sinuous arms deftly welding the crop, her breast heaving with effort, the woman with the whip is envisioned as a mature and assured Any-Woman, dealing justice to man. Her privacy, and that of the women whose slits you serviced, has been protected. Yours has not. When the film comes out in general release, all of your old girl friends will surely recognize your face and, of course, that lovely cock of yours. 

"Anna's amazing connections will assure the widest possible publicity and controversy over the film. It will be as if you were dragged naked down the entire world's Main Street for all to marvel at, for all to mock and deride. It will be a public object lesson, a cultural watershed, the rising of female supremacy. Aren't you proud to serve the 'Cause' so selflessly? 

"Our publicity tour will eschew the trash TV talk route. We will aim for discussion amongst literary critics and academics, then perhaps news magazines or concede an interview to higher end television talk. How would you describe the joy of having your balls whipped to a distinguished female newsreader on prime time television? Or would you prefer a younger, prettier news whore on a tacky morning program?"

This was insane. I thought, "It will never happen. Gina must be joking, pulling my chain. Ok, dear pull my chain all you like. I am here solely for your amusement; make a fool of me. I know exactly what I am what I am to do—put one knee in front of the other, without questions or doubts, and crawl any plank at your command. I am your puppet." 

Gina laughed, "Oh I see that skeptical look. Don't worry honey; I haven't gone mad. Maybe Anna and Ashley are a little addled. All that crusading is their project, and most of it probably won't happen, at least not as they scheme. The political controversy, the 'Cause'—it's all too calculated and ambitious. That is not the way the world works; not the way things change, but Anna won't quit. Something more subtle, more indirect is likely required. But as unrealistic as this goofy plan seems, perhaps you and I will create a ripple on the waters of the great river that is humankind's long enduring saga. 

"The route to man's heart is through his cock. If the erotic images I toss into the public market are sugar coated with 'Art' or 'Politics', or even 'Porn', a wider audience may swallow the medicine. When the coating melts away, the sexual medicine will remain and maybe cure at least some social pathology. The masculine imperative to dominate may be somewhat suppressed, supplanted by the release of the male's repressed need to submit and his longing to be subjugated by women. The feminine craving to rule will be liberated, and female supremacy may ascend. We may shift the fulcrum in the male/female dynamic balance. Too much? Well if nothing else, there may be a whole lot of pussy sucking going on. That's the theory. But theories are boring. The real point is that I am going to have some fun with you.

"My film is real, and it's not boring. It is completed and it is beautiful. Cannes probably will happen, so you will be publicly humiliated. I had thought of dragging you out in front of the audience by your scrotum chain, but perhaps the impact would be enhanced if you were dressed as a normal, trendy, studly guy. What sort of questions do you think they will put to you? 'Eric, was that real, or trick photography?' Real. 'Does having your balls whipped really hurt?' Duh! 'Did the lady whipping you get as hot as you did?' 'Do you see yourself as a loathsome pervert?' 'How do I get my boyfriend to let me do that?' The discussion itself will be art, performance art. I will be filming the event. All the show offs in the audience will get to perform.

"But now it time for some real fun here and now. You have been such a good boy I have brought you a treat—cream filled pussy. Put the wine down; it's too early for alcohol. Get in the bedroom and take off your apron. Better yet, tie that pink frilly thing around your neck like a bib. I wouldn't want any messes."

It was quite the feast. Gina must have entertained a number of guests because her pussy was awash with come. She had been considerate and creative enough to find a way to prevent the semen from leaking out. Gina wore a silicone vaginal insert under her panties to hold the semen in. It was a common sex toy, a remote control vibrator intended to humiliate a woman by controlling her arousal in public. But Gina had discovered it's off label use—a semen-dam intended to humiliate me.

I removed Gina's boots and leather pants, and she reclined on a pile of pillows. Gina carefully took off her panties, raised her hips hugging the backs of her knees to hold in as much semen as possible, and then removed the semen-dam. Come oozed over the rim of her hole. She pulled her knees apart and her raw nether lips opened. The glutinous slime had thinned to translucent goo that pooled in her hole and dribbled over the rim. My cup runneth over. With a come-hither gesture Gina's finger beckoned me to bow over her up turned, brimming slit. The smell of other men sickened me. "Lick it up quickly. I don't want the bedding to get soiled."

I bent over and commenced my duties. My tongue made a few quick swipes from Gina's anus up to her slit rim to capture the viscous ooze overflowing her inflamed pussy. I came close to vomiting; my eyes watered with suppressed revulsion. I gathered myself while my tongue lingered on the raw lips of my love's well used cunt. I hovered over Gina's holy and faithless cup. 

"I must do this. It is Gina's wish. Don't gag; swallow. It is her command. Remember how you made girls take your cock. Remember how they choked and gagged for you. It is time for recompense. Stifle that gag reflex; strangle that last traitorous shred of pride; be hers; suck the filth of her many lovers from her hallowed chalice." I dipped my tongue into her hole and lapped. I rolled the viscous liquor around my mouth and swallowed. It slid down my throat and I did not vomit.

"Clean this." Gina stuck the rubbery vibrator toy in my mouth and I sucked it clean of the slime. Gina pushed the remote and the vibrator buzzed to life in my mouth. She laughed and tossed her come soaked panties on my head as a sort of nightcap. 

"Now honey, get in there and suck it up. There are so many lovely boys down at my health club. All swaggering, horny young fucks tripping over their cocks to do anything I ask. I made four of the prettiest of them save their juicy man junk for two weeks just for me, just for you really. They were bursting with come. These were not kind of boys accustomed to waiting for women, but they waited on me, all of them. 

"I got the keys to the supply room in the back of the club and invited them in. I like doing it in semi public places. The guys were taken aback when they realized were not going to get me to themselves. But after two weeks, they were so horny they would do anything for me. The looks on their faces as they assembled in the supply room were precious; there was no eye contact between them, only the most surreptitious glances at their buddy's cocks. Those arrogant studs were positively shy. Now don't think that I didn't love it for all the fucking, but I really did it for you, for this."

Gina lay with her legs and hips raised careful not to spill. She dipped a finger into the pool of come in her hole and stirred the soup. "Those young, virile studs were positively loaded. The downside was they came almost instantly; the up side was they could do it over and over. They were all so horny they stayed rock hard despite their immature embarrassment over having to wait in line to get into my cunt. I do love young men and their ever-hard young cocks. You don't mind do you? You want me to happy, right? 

"Get in there baby; I am full to the brim. Eat it. Drink it. Good boy. Swallow. There's more, suck. Think of all those young cocks using me, and think how you will never, ever, get to fuck me again. But you like it that way, right? My cunt cleaner, my tongue boy, that's what you are now and forever." 

Gina's labored against rising sex fervor to continue her harangue. "Your tongue is so much softer, gentler, and suppler than those clumsy boys' cocks. Your well-trained tongue knows its craft. My pussy is raw from all the pounding of those awkward boys. Make it better. Lick it. That's good. Reach in; there is a lot more for you. Get in there whore boy, slave, cuckold. Eat you fucking worthless piece of shit..." Gina flew off into a disjointed rant and I became nothing more to her than a machine, her tongue dildo.

Gina went on and on, calling me the vilest things, swearing, and then cooing praise at her tongue toy. While she chattered on I ate, and ate. Gina was bursting with semen. I sucked it down by the mouth full. I alternated between joy and revulsion, disgust and ecstasy. I could only sustain my effort and suppress my nausea by concentrating on the knowledge, focusing on the achievement, reveling in the truth, that I was nothing, nothing but Gina's rapt and spellbound thrall.




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 29



It went on and on; I went on and on. My jaw ached; my tongue was swollen; I was in a trance. In time Gina pushed me away, rolled over on her side and went to sleep. I kissed her perfect ass, and collapsed into a deep, dreamless slumber.

I awoke when Gina kissed me. Her face was gentle, content, and loving. Her smiling eyes seemed a window opening on true happiness. I had never known Gina to be so tender. 

She had showered and had put on a simple silk gown while I slept, knocked out cold. She floated above me, whispering, "Darling you are perfect, all that I ever wanted. I am not sorry about fucking all those boys. You are a strong, lovely man, but I can't fuck you; it just wouldn't be right. Letting you use your cock like an ordinary man, letting you drive that big hard dick of yours into me would be great right now, but it would betray the fundamental nature of what we are for each other.

"If I let you fuck me, you would be just another man, just another cock. I want you to be special. After all you have suffered for me, after your total capitulation, after the way you just sucked my cunt clean of the semen of my other lovers, there is no doubt you are totally, humbly mine. And I love you for that." 

Gina stroked my crotch and fondled her pet cock in its cage. "I never said I wouldn't suck this thing. It is the best dick I've ever had. I would do it now but we have a party to attend and you must not be allowed to have an orgasm just yet. Your cock must remain in its cage. I love you. I love hurting you, but I do love you. Tonight you will be whipped. Tonight I will let other women hurt you. Tonight you will be shamed, degraded, and tortured. But I love you. Tonight I will make you mine forever. Tonight we will marry."



Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 30



Anna: Priestess of Inanna

"Weddings are such fun."

Shyanne and Ashley knelt before Anna adjusting the hem of her gown and its long sweeping train of black lace. Anna stared into the distance ignoring the serving girls. 

Ashley giggled, "All the pretty clothes, the pretty people, the pretty flowers, weddings are so exciting. Shyanne you're going to love tonight's entertainment. Your fuck buddy Eric is going to dance for us, dance a very special dance. You've never been to wedding like this. Anna has discovered the secret wedding rituals of the lost cult of Inanna." The devious, imperious, and cruel Ashley was positively giddy. 

Shyanne kept her thoughts to herself. "Of course it won't be like any wedding I've been to. I've never been to a wedding. Nobody I knew ever got married. Marriage and married folk are in a different world. None of them would have considered inviting the likes of me to their wedding. And what are they going to do to Eric? It's his wedding, but what sort of celebration could this be? Inanna? What? Fuck the wedding, what sort of marriage will it be? Eric married to that sadistic bitch Gina? Poor baby." 

Ashley chattered on, "Just smooth this last wrinkle and we are done. There. What an exquisite gown, what a spectacular train, and, oh, the bodice, the veil, everything is fineness and quality. It fits Anna's body, her spirit, and her eminence perfectly. Black satin, blacker lace, delicate, ominous, commanding, and so very feminine, it is Anna. Oh, isn't she stunning?" 

Ashley's heart swelled to bursting. She held her hand to her trembling open lips as if to hold within her elated hero worship. Joyous tears sparkled in her brimming eyes. Ashley gazed up and adored Anna. Anna was splendid and mysterious, the perfect celebrant for a dark pagan nuptial. Ashley bobbled in her manic bubble, "It's the wedding of my best buddy. Shyanne, look up from your knees at Anna. This is the only proper perspective to look upon this magnificent woman."

Shyanne too stared up in awe. Shyanne had spent the night with Anna; it had been a revelation.

Shyanne had been with women before. She used Claudia just about every day, and she was on call to do Ashley at the snap of a finger. But Ashley had demanded only occasional, perfunctory oral servicing, and only to reinforce the lines of authority. Ashley was turned on by exerting power; the visceral joys of sex were incidental. That was ok with Shyanne. A lot of stuff was ok with her.

Shyanne was omnivorous when it came to sex; however, her basic preference was cock. Her first experience with lesbian sex was a bit role in a porno film. It was business. She had no qualms or regrets, but it was not something she would have done but for the money. Shyanne admitted to herself a twisted thrill with the perversion of girl on girl play, but without a warm and real cock inside, sex was not quite right. A plastic toy or a tongue just didn't do it. 

As a prostitute, her clients were all men, except that she did occasional lesbian sex shows for stag parties. Shyanne thought she understood just about everything about guys and sex, but she was always a bit puzzled and amused at the way a room full of macho studs could get off watching two girls go at each other. Still she and her colleagues got good and hot showing off for the guys. Sometimes Shyanne's orgasm was actually real. It was kind of fun. Shyanne enjoyed the exhibitionism and the mindless cunt sucking, but getting sucked by a girl was just not enough. If money were not an issue (it always was), she would have stuck with cock. 

Shyanne did not especially need companionship. She liked living alone. She had always vaguely imagined that she would live with a guy sometime, but she never did. For a short time, Shyanne lived with an acquaintance that was into girl on girl sex. Shyanne tried it but it didn't do a lot for her. The girl was a colleague, another whore, but a needy whore. Shyanne regretted it as soon as the girl moved in. 

Shyanne let the girl suck her off each morning. The girl would crawl under the sheets and wake Shyanne with gentle pussy licking. Half-asleep Shyanne would open her legs and accept her roommate's service with passionless satisfaction. When she was fully awake, she would get up without a word, shower, and leave the apartment to get breakfast alone. The girl was too gabby and too sweet. Shyanne wanted peace with her coffee, not sugar. 

Getting head was a nice way to wake to another day, a pleasant massage, but nothing more. Living with the girl was fine, convenient. She helped with the rent and having a warm body around was comforting. But eventually Shyanne's ambivalence wrecked the relationship. She just did not want to reciprocate the sex or the affection. 

Shyanne just left when the girl started whining. Shyanne had a month-to-month lease and she didn't own any stuff she cared about. It wasn't like a plan as such. She was leaving a guy's place, she had cash in her pocket, and for no particular reason she told the cab driver to take her to the airport instead of home. She left town for a while and never saw the girl again. That was fine. Shyanne liked being alone just as well. 

Most of Shyanne's sex was professional, and so unemotional. She accepted that easily. Her life was a little lonely, but she was generally happy. The closest she ever got to someone was Eric. She gave him free sex and liked it, but they were really business partners. In time however, that partnership turned to true friendship, even an unacknowledged love, but they would never have considered living together or claiming possession of each other. Still, while neither Shyanne nor Eric would ever have said it out loud, they were soul mates. Eric was the kind of the man Shyanne dreamed of, except her dreams always evaporated with the light of day.

Living with Ashley was easy. She was occasionally cruel, but she didn't demand much of Shyanne's time. Shyanne could easily have split, just disappeared, but she surprised herself by liking the life Ashley gave her. She did not have to concern herself with money or day-to-day survival and doing Ashley's bidding was fun, weird but fun—like whipping Claudia into line. 

Even though Shyanne was Ashley's sex slave, Ashley left no doubt about that, Ashley rarely abused her except for occasional verbal assaults just to show who was the boss. Shyanne contentedly agreed to the erratic cunt sucking and the constant capitulation. Equality was a corny daydream, and independence was overrated. Shyanne had always found it easy to go with the flow, and the flow had taken her to a very strange place.

Then Shyanne spent the night with Anna, and it was as if she finally remembered a critical but forgotten detail that she had lost track of throughout her life. Maybe being blackmailed into the role of sex slave had aroused some latent, instinctual impulse. Maybe she had just gotten enough time to relax and think, but Shyanne's memory was finally jogged when she encountered Anna. 

When Anna asked Ashley for the use of Shyanne for a night, Ashley indifferently handed her over like a party favor. Shyanne had been somewhat frightened of Anna; Anna was rich, brilliant, and evidently superior even to Ashley. Anna was a goddess of goddesses. She was also older and exuded authority. Shyanne had always been scared of adults and never grasped that she had long been one herself. 

Shyanne also was aware that Anna enjoyed physically abusing her victims. Of course, there was nothing to be done, she was Ashley's slave, and she must do anything demanded of her. She sensed that the easy flow of her life was heading toward rocky whitewater. What was that low thunderous roar up ahead? Oh well, just keep floating on. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream. Shyanne dutifully followed Anna to her dazzling home in the sky high above the city. 

Lost in the clouds above the everyday urban tumult, Shyanne verged on panic. She glanced at Anna and confronted a starling, otherworldly beauty. Anna was aloof, cool, unapproachable—and an incarnate vision of ideal human beauty. Shyanne looked away, but alone in the mere proximity of Anna's loveliness some pillar within toppled. The simple, autonomic task of breathing became complicated. Anna seemed absorbed in some other world as she led Shyanne into her opulent home. 

Anna's serene good nature further unnerved Shyanne. Shyanne was ready to accept whatever abuse a slave deserved, but Anna was unfailingly gracious. Anna treated her with respect, like an equal. Anna invited Shyanne to sit with her and offered to get her a drink. Shyanne nervously declined. She thought there must be some mistake, "Just get on with it. What's with this courtesy?" 

Anna said please when she asked Shyanne to remove her clothes. Shyanne's stripper fingers shook like an artless child's. Standing before Anna, Shyanne had never felt so naked. "Now I will pay." But Anna just politely and sincerely complimented Shyanne for taking such good care of her sexy body. Anna, fully dressed, rose to admire Shyanne's nakedness. She ran her cool hands over Shyanne's skin and showered her with praise for the fullness of her breasts, the slenderness of her waist and the elegance of her features. Anna's detached critique of Shyanne's body parts was flattering, but ominous. 

Anna picked up a riding crop that Shyanne had overlooked. "Now I will pay." But Anna told her that she could not use such a harsh tool on such tender skin. Anna took Shyanne by the hand and walked her to the bedroom where Shyanne saw an open chest filled with chains, leather collars, and whips. "Now I will pay." Shivers of the anticipated pain crawled across her tense skin. Anna lay Shyanne down on the bed. Shyanne felt like a specimen pinned to a laboratory table to be examined by Professor Anna.

Anna smiled at Shyanne's fear. She glanced at the chest filled with her tools of domination. "We can play with those some other time if you like." Then Anna undressed, unveiling a magnificent, but approachably human body. Anna the nude evoked erotic bliss, but her being radiated something more meaningful. 

Anna sat on the bed and adoringly ran her hands over Shyanne's heaving breasts. She gently opened Shyanne's legs, leaned down, and tenderly kissed the soft skin of her inner thigh. Then she lay between Shyanne's legs, placed her mouth on her sex, and paid homage. Anna's lips, her tongue, and seemingly her soul licked, kissed, and loved Shyanne with an abundant benevolence Shyanne had not imagined possible. Anna manipulated, adored, and awoke Shyanne's vagina, and provoked in Shyanne's heart an appreciation of what sex was really for. Shyanne remembered that forgotten critical detail that she had misplaced in the rush of her life. Shyanne's true self awoke—cherished.

That night Anna treated Shyanne to an unknown tenderness. Anna shared the story of her life and the fairy-tale of her aspirations and dreams. She treated Shyanne with a never experienced, healing respect. Shyanne did not understand all of the sociology, anthropology, politics, and certainly not the ancient religion, but Anna took the time to explain and to teach without a lecture or condescension. Shyanne understood the essence of Anna's mind, and finally comprehended the quintessence of a sensual life. Shyanne empathized with the story of the ancient prostitutes driven into the cult Inanna for protection. 

Anna told Shyanne that Gina and Eric would be married, and explained Eric's role as slave-husband. She enlightened Shyanne as to why this was necessary for Eric, and justified for any male. She explained the importance of inequity in spousal relations and tolerated Shyanne's dissent that perhaps it might not always be wrong for the male to dominate, or, worse in Anna's eyes, that an egalitarian relationship could be worthwhile. Mostly Anna made Shyanne feel loved.

Ashley came by in the morning jabbering incomprehensibly about magic, Stone Age wedding masks, and conquering the world. Shyanne understood just enough about her mistress to know she was nuts. Ashley brought along a work crew of hair stylists, manicurists and makeup artists to prepare Anna to officiate at Gina and Eric's wedding. Ashley set about the task like a foreman at a construction site. First, she set Shyanne aside ordering her to wait outside Anna's boudoir; then she began barking orders. Ashley hovered over her workers fussing and micromanaging their every move as they hustled about their business in a whirlwind of cosmetic artistry. She didn't get that MBA for nothing.

At the center of this tumult, Anna was quiet, detached, and serenely accommodating. Eventually Ashley dismissed the workers and kept Anna for herself. She loved dressing beautiful women and she would not share the delicacy of dressing Anna with her lackeys. All the while Shyanne sat beyond the door daydreaming about Anna, aching to be near the woman who had shown her the way to love herself. Behind the boudoir door, Ashley hoarded her time alone with Anna. 

Finally Anna tired of Ashley. Anna handed her a vial of perfume, and Ashley sunk to her knees. Anna pulled aside fabric and opened the slit in Anna's gown from her waist to the floor. Framed in black satin the naked skin of Anna's thighs blazed white. Bedazzled, Ashley gaped at Anna's mons pubis and wept. With tremulous fingers, Ashley dabbed perfume along the soft inner reach of Anna long, succulent thighs. Ashley's usual mask of haughty assurance had melted away, her face flushed scarlet, and her nose ran like an asthmatic child's. Anna looked down on her blubbering acolyte and with a wordless glance, ordered her to fetch Shyanne. With a forlorn nod Ashley mutely answered, "Yes Mistress." 

Outside the boudoir door, Ashley stood over Shyanne sitting on the floor and a bit of her arrogance revived. Fresh air and jealousy restored the rest. She kicked Shyanne and snarled. "Get up Slave." Ashley angrily shoved Shyanne through the door and flung her back to the floor at Anna's feet. Anna's agonizingly beautiful face awed the heartsick pilgrim. 

When Ashley saw the love in Anna's eyes for Shyanne, her mercurial affect careened back to submissive humility, and she joined Shyanne on her knees. Together they fiddled with Anna's dress, and Ashley confided with Shyanne, "Weddings are such fun. All the pretty clothes, the pretty people, the pretty flowers ..." 

Anna was not a tall woman, but somehow she loomed large. Shyanne looked to Anna's fair face, its cool purity softened slightly by the hint of peaches in her cheeks, to her eyes sparking multicolored, and to her glorious crown of strawberry blond tresses newly coifed and weaved to rise like a mountain until gracefully tumbling in a waterfall of curling lockets. Anna seemed an imposing monument of an impassive goddess. 

Sheathed in form fitting, floor length black satin and glittering black lace, Anna shimmered like a black stone pillar topped by a polished marble bust. Her naked shoulders were smooth and cool as sculpted ice. Her neck and arms joined her torso with a flowing flawlessness as perfect as the unattainable ideal sought in shires of ancient goddesses. An expanse of creamy skin bloomed over the rise of generous cleavage. The delicate aurora of Anna's bosom dawned over the twinkling night of her black bodice. A hint of pink areola peeked through open lace trim and brimmed slightly over the deeply cut neckline. 

Anna ignored the attending girls at her feet and admired herself in a full-length mirror. She critically appraised her maids' work and assessed the visage she presented, assuring that her physical presence struck the measure of awe appropriate to a ruler of souls. 

Watching herself in the mirror Anna turned to admire the sinuous curve of her back plunging down the deep cleft of her gown to reach the alluring cleavage between her finely toned buttocks. Then Anna stepped toward Shyanne and looked down on the slave. A shapely leg stepped through the deep slit opening down the front of the gown. 

Anna scrutinized the adoring devotee at her feet. She stepped closer and pulled the gown aside to reveal both legs. Anna shifted nearer still to stand within inches of Shyanne's face. The gown now opened at her waist and plummeted down the sides of her bewitching legs to trail behind in a long lacy train. Anna stood high upon a pedestal of silver shoes. Her broad snowy hips were fully exposed. A triangle of black lace veiled Anna's mound, and a few light red hairs curled through the scant, gossamer thong. Shyanne stared at Anna's womanhood bulging behind the scrap of diaphanous fabric and saw through the mask to something divine. Shyanne's breaking heart caught in her throat; she did not admire; she venerated. At this proximity, Anna's scent was thick and sweet, dizzying and overwhelming. 

Ashley whispered, "Yes Shyanne, tremble at her feet; she is your ruler. Anna, may I allow our slave to kiss your foot?" Anna cast down an indulgent smile and stepped back so that her legs disappeared into the folds of satin. Ashley put her hand behind Shyanne's head and gently directed her face to the floor at the hem of Anna's gown. "Down Shyanne. Slip into the temple door and pay your respects. Kiss her foot, and breathe the air in the temple. Pray."

Shyanne entered the darkness under Anna long black gown. Anna's scent closed on her, clung to her skin, filled her head, and twisted its way into her core. Equilibrium weakened, failed utterly, and tears swept Shyanne. She felt a fool. She already lay flat on the floor or she would have fallen. Shyanne adoringly kissed Anna's foot and licked the heel of her shoe. Rivulets of tears ran about her face, her heating brow wept sweat, and a tingling simmer seethed within her body. Sun-heated berries melted in her mouth. Shyanne became a super-saturated cloud bursting with sweetness yearning to rain upon the earth. 

The air within Anna's gown was not air. It was sultry ambrosia, a lure, a drug—a substance to be absorbed not breathed. It gratified; it compelled. A narcotic fog spun a satisfying suffocation into Shyanne's lungs, blood, and brain. Just as consciousness threatened to dissolve into the viscous sweetness permeating the darkness within Anna's gown, Anna stepped over Shyanne, and with a soft rustling, she floated away. 

The train of Anna's gown passed over Shyanne like the shadow of a dark storm cloud. The cool air of Anna's boudoir bathed Shyanne's face. Anna's scent still clung to her, but now she could breathe, barely. Shyanne sipped air, but was left wanting. She felt she might suffocate, but she suffered no fear, no panic. It was just the opposite. A breathless rapture coursed in Shyanne's blood, an otherworldly, ecstatic radiance promised paradise. 

"There is no need to breathe. I am a translucent cloud in a perfect blue sky. I am air itself. Air need not gasp for it own essence." Shyanne looked to Ashley's face. "Why speak? She knows me. What is this beauteous thing, my love?"

Within Anna's spell, even Ashley could empathize. "Is the temple air too pure? Don't fear; you will recover. Anna is a resourceful woman. She will do anything to amplify her charms. What you just experienced was not Estee Lauder. Anna will not even tell me what that perfume is, or where she gets it, but it is a nectar fit for a goddess. I am sure it is custom made by a chemist, but is it from a formula of the ancient cult or is it modern biotechnology? Anna is silent. I've developed a slight tolerance so when I apply Anna's perfume I no longer faint from the orgasms. Anna herself seems quite unaffected; it is all quite mysterious. I still attain the most intense orgasms from simply breathing her scent and looking into the whiteness of her thighs." Ashley's words passed through Shyanne unnoticed.

Shyanne stared upward as if to the sky, but she did see, rather she felt an ineffable emotional mist moving within, beyond. Her breast heaved as if to inhale, but she did not breathe. Shyanne did not need oxygen. She swallowed to hold Anna's precious vapors within, to bar entry of diluting, prosaic air. Shyanne's crotch burned, her brow blazed, and a hot flood of passion burst between her thighs. Shyanne curled into a ball and writhed in an involuntary orgasm more pure than any she had ever known. She reached down, grabbed her crotch and realized she had wet herself. She gasped, fresh air flushed her lungs, and she cried for what was expelled.




Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 30



Anna looked back over her shoulder and smiled down on Shyanne who had been reduced to a writhing puddle of tears and girl goo. Then Anna walked away. Ashley touched Shyanne's flushed brow and explained, "Anna's assistant, Veronica, has brought Anna's husband in for the weekend. Anna is going to show herself to her love and make him grovel before her splendor. She will be back soon. This evening it will be your function to look after Anna's trivial needs, tend to her train, hold her wine, and scurry about her feet in an unobtrusive manner. You will assist in celebrating the wedding. You will be her alter girl."

Shyanne was taken aback. "Anna didn't tell me she was married. Who is he? And me, an alter girl? Do you remember what I am?"

"Yes we know what you are. You are our holy women, our servant, and our sanctified chalice. Yes, Anna is married. His name is Edward. Anna is with him now in the next room. Anna has her girl Veronica tend to his day-to-day care. Anna visits them occasionally. He is a college professor and on the outside, his life seems ordinary. His pretense of normalcy is quite amusing considering that Veronica whips him every day, morning and night, and in view of what's been done to that thing in his pants. Later I'll show you what Anna has done to his cock. 

"Weddings are so much fun. You should have been at Anna's wedding; it was unlike anything you have ever imagined. I officiated. That night Gina served me as you will serve Anna tonight. Anna wore black satin and lace that day too. What a fabulous party. It was held in the great room of Anna's ancient stone castle in Bavaria. There was a raging fire in an enormous open fireplace and torches for lighting. The roof above vanished into dancing shadows and smoke. No contemporary technology was allowed. All in attendance vanished into an Iron Age night of fire and stone. 

"The guests were the world's elite, but only those who appreciated what marriage to a woman like Anna meant. None of the men were allowed to rise up off their knees throughout the evening. For the most part, they spent the night with their faces in their wives' cunts. Anna's groom was a real trophy man, once the sexiest alpha-male. But he was utterly tamed before the nuptials transpired. The ceremony celebrated rituals as Anna's imagined the legendary religion of female supremacy, the cult of Inanna. The full story was not available then. 

"The music was specially commissioned for the occasion. It was performed by a naked bewitching siren on her gypsy violin, swaying and dancing to the magic of her melody, accompanied only by a slave boy on drums beating out Levantine percussion.

"The wedding ceremony started with me leading Edward into the great room by a chain attached to an iron collar around his neck. I dragged him past the guests who each in turn examined him, fondled him, or otherwise amused themselves. Each woman was expected to take a moment to heap some sort of degradation on the man meat. Poor Edward was repeatedly slapped, spat upon, and insulted. 

"My favorite was an older woman who grabbed him by the balls pulling and twisting until he moaned for mercy. The woman then ordered her slave girl to take the head of Edward's cock in her mouth and bite. He was in agony. She berated Edward for his failure to accept the pain without crying like a baby. She order the girl to bite harder and told Edward it would just keep getting worse until he stopped fussing. When he managed the thinnest decorum, she called off her girl, spit in his face and passed him on to the next woman. These women knew how to treat men.

"After these introductions, I attached Edward by his wrist shackles to chains hung from the ceiling next to the huge open fire. Then any woman inclined to partake in the man beating festivities whipped him. Weddings are all about sharing. That went on for at least an hour and soon poor Edward was an absolute mess. He was allowed to scream all he wanted. The women didn't tire until Edward couldn't scream anymore. The acoustics in the huge stone room were extraordinary.

"Finally the guests took their seats and Anna stepped up to Edward's side. Anna had me lower Edward's bleeding body so that she could kiss him. She said to him, 'Tell my dearly beloved friends what you intend, what you beseech be done to you this night.' Edward looked out at the assembly of women and with a rasping quake declared, 'I wish to be made Anna's husband. I wish to be permitted the privilege of loving Anna, honoring Anna and especially obeying Anna. I ask for nothing in return.' 

"Then it was my turn in the limelight. I declared, 'Let it be done, let the marks of marriage be placed upon him.' I drew a branding iron out of the fire. It was a large, red-hot "A". I handed the iron to Anna, pulled the chains so that Edward's feet were again swinging freely in the air, and I twisted him to show his backside to the assembled guests. There were perhaps fifty women gathered around. They were mostly seated with a husband or slave girl gorging at their crotch. Naked servants stood behind ready at the snap of a finger. One stylish lady squatted over her husband's head and fucked his face. 

"Anna placed the burning iron on Edward's buttock. His scream filled the room and echoed off the stone. That noise made his previous protests seem like the meager yelping of a newborn puppy. The intensity of that shriek curdled my blood. That's the way all men should say, 'I do'. I turned his body so everyone could inspect the mark. Edward's screech had clearly brought a good number of the guests to a climax. The smell of burning flesh is impossible to forget.

"I woke Edward with smelling salts. It was time to place the ring. Anna's doctor had this privilege. She cleaned and prepared Edward's cock, which for the first time all night had softened. She drove a steel probe through the end of his cock and out just past and under the head. I handed Anna the heavy gold ring. The ring was split so that it could be strung through the bleeding hole in Edward's cock. Anna held it up for all to see and handed it to the doctor. The physician threaded the gold through the bloody cock.

"That done, I lowered Edward to the floor. I ordered him to hold his cock on an anvil with the golden ring against the iron so that the wedding band could be closed permanently. I took up a heavy hammer. Edward was shaky and I warned him to be still because if the swing of the hammer missed, he would surely lose his cock, and he might disappoint Anna. He held the ring ready, looked away, and with one full force swing, I sealed the marriage. Edward screamed again and fainted. For a moment, I thought I had missed and smashed poor Edward's cock. I looked carefully at his bloody crotch and confirmed that his cock was intact and that the circle of the wedding ring was closed. 

"The doctor cleaned him up a bit and gave him antibiotics; Anna had forbidden pain medication. The doctor put simple cotton panties on Edward and stuffed an old fashion tampon in for the blood. Edward was out for the night; he lay on a stone slab in the middle of the room covered with a blanket while the party continued through the night. The women shared their men and girls for the amusement of all. It was a magnificent time. I love weddings.

"Shyanne now you must be prepared. Remove your clothes. Your costume will be quite simple. You will be naked but for a ball gag, a dildo strapped in your ass, and kneepads so that you aren't too scratched up crawling about at Anna's feet, tending her train, and serving. Strip. Hurry, I have a lot to do. The wedding planner will be arriving soon. Some guests are coming early.

"Weddings are such fun."



Face (Sex, Power, Love)



On my knees serving my goddess, her boot grinding into my mouth, I savored the flavor of leather and gratefully sucked disgrace. "My life is over, it's hers now. I don't care what you do to me Gina just don't cast me out. I love you, this, and all that you do to me. Please, don't throw me away; please use me; please use me up."



Face Shot



I appreciate all the comments I've gotten and the friends I have made through my stories. Please feel free to become another friend or post a comment!

Gary and I really haven't known each other all that long. Actually we met only recently.  He had sent me a short note letting me know of his appreciation for my erotic writings. After a few correspondences, we figured we could actually be real life friends. Could there be more?

Gary was kind of tied down to his business. So it was up to me to come up with a way for us to get together. After some back and forth emails, trying this date or that, I finally found an open space in my schedule – and a cheap flight to the airport nearest Gary's hometown. It was a date, I'd fly out and he would pick me up and plan an evening.  Since we had not agreed to sex, this was just going to be a friends night out.

On the appointed day, I made all the phone calls I needed to, scheduled my men for the following work day and left work an hour and a half early to catch my flight. Only a two hour flight, I had a couple of cocktails on the way and entertained myself with my iPod to make the time pass. I could feel myself relaxing more and more as my flight progressed.

My flight arrived on time. I left the plane and headed to the gate. There was Gary holding a sign that just said "Birch". It almost made me laugh, what had started as a nickname in college had become my erotica "nom de plume" on the internet. I silently wondered if anyone else had caught on.

After a hearty handshake and a couple of backslaps, we were heading to Gary's car ion the airport's out lot. Ordinarily, I'd be nervous about a meeting like this. Between the emails we'd had and the in-flight cocktails, I had the feeling this was a new friend who just felt like a friend I'd known forever.

Gary suggested we go to a dinner theater place he was well acquainted with. We could enjoy a good meal, some conversation and a live play as a topper. It sounded like a great evening. We stowed my travel pack and ever present camera bag into his car and off we went.

Once we got to the appointed place, I quickly realized that Gary knew everyone there – and everyone knew and loved Gary. We were both treated like visiting royalty – a gesture I surely appreciated.  

We split a bottle of a wine that he had suggested while I dined on a delicate Filet of Sole creation. Gary enjoyed a Shrimp Vera Cruz dinner that looked scrumptious. 

Dinner over, we both had coffees while preparations for staging the play were readied. The theater lights flicked on and off announcing the pending start of the evening's performance. 

Already relaxed, Gary said "You didn't mention what hotel you'd booked. If you'd like, you can spend the night at my place."

"I was hoping you'd ask." I replied. 

At the same time, my heart pounded a bit for the first time that day. My cock also stirred in my slacks.

We enjoyed the show immensely. We both got up to use the gent's room at the intermission. When we returned to our seats, I looked around to make sure no one else could hear me.

"I'm thinking of some ways to pay you back later for your hospitality." I said.

"And I can't wait to thank you for coming out here." he replied.

This was a done deal. We'd be getting some cock tonight. Quite honestly, from that point on, I could hardly wait for the play to be over. It was all I could do to restrain myself from dropping my hand into his lap to see if he was excited as I was about the evening yet to come.

Soon enough, the play ended and we headed to Gary's car. Thanking our evening's hosts for making this a great evening as we exited the theater.

We were both a bit quiet once we got in his car and headed to his place. I decided to break the ice and reached over into his lap to fondle his goodies. His cock stirred instantly and hardened almost as quickly.

I ran the fingers of one hand up and down his cock while my other hand sought out and found his balls. He moaned while driving and slid back into the seat to allow me to better access to continue what I was doing. He reached over to return the favor, but I stopped him saying "Keep your eyes on the road. It'll be your turn soon enough."

We got to his place in about 15 minutes. After a quick tour of his well-appointed abode, I asked if I might take a quick shower to wash away my workday. "Want company?" he asked.

With a smile and a nod I said,"That could be fun." And we headed to his bathroom, stopping for extra towels on the way.

He started the water in the oversized shower while I stripped. He turned back to me in time to see me left in only my underwear, my cock gently tenting the fly. I pulled my briefs off and let my cock spring free to Gary's appreciative gaze. 

Stepping into the shower, I left the door open while I watched him strip down, too. It looked like the attention I had given to him in the car had him a bit more excited than I was. His cock was fully hard – ready for action. Mine raised a notch then, too.

Stepping into the shower with me, we both rinsed off. Taking the soap in his hands he worked up a generous handful of lather and immediately took a hold of my cock and balls. The slick feeling of his sudsy hands had me as hard as iron in seconds.

Returning the favor, I lifted his cock with one hand and soaped up his testes with the bar of soap in my other. Repeatedly I lifted and dropped his sac with the bar of soap while he stroked the length of my erection with his soapy fingers.

Reaching down with the soap, I ran a corner of the bar across Gary's anus. He moaned in pleasure. Realizing I had hit a nerve in him, I released the cock in my hand and rubbed my slick palm up and down his shaft. I moved to trace his asshole with my soapy finger while we stroked each others shafts. "Careful" Gary said, "I'm still a virgin there."

Well, he might have been a virgin, but I knew he liked the treatment he was getting from me right now. Circling his anus, I gently teased his nether hole to open up just a bit. Then I penetrated him with just an inch or so of my digit. I thought he would cum on the spot.

Backing away just a half step, I allowed the water to rinse the suds from his tool. Then I knelt down on the floor of the shower and sucked his penis into my mouth. I detected the slightest taste of pre-cum as I moved my mouth up and down, again and again. Reaching back I nudged his rear hole with my middle finger as I continued my oral ministrations on his cock.  The warm water flowed over us both as I worked on pleasing my newfound friend.

"Stop" He asked "I don't want to cum just yet. If you keep this up, I'm going to lose it any second now."

I got up off the shower floor and took a turn under the shower spray. Closing my eyes for a second as the water sprayed my face. As I turned back, my hard cock nudged Gary's cheek. It was his turn to please me for a while.

He lifted my cock and licked me from the base of my scrotum to the tip of my cock. He did this three or four times, then he completely deep-throated me in a single motion. Back and forth, my cock reached into his throat as his nose touched my pubic hairs then withdrew so that only the head of my penis was still in his mouth.

Each time Gary pulled back, his tongue swirled around the flaring head of my cock. Occasionally he would just lick and suck only the head for five or six strokes, and then he would resume his deep sucking of my cock. I could feel my pulse rate rising rapidly and my balls gather up preparing to spew forth their load into his mouth.

Neither of us wanted to stop now, but we both knew that the game would be hotter if we put a brief hold on the action. I withdrew from his mouth and lifted him to his feet. It was time to turn off the shower before we both turned into prunes.

It was a good thing we had grabbed some extra towels on our way to the shower. I handed one to Gary, threw one over my shoulders, started drying him off with another, then I dropped a fourth one to the tile floor. I worked from a position on my knees drying his legs and feet while his still-hard cock bumped my face, neck and ear.

I dried his cock and balls, and then I put his erection back into my mouth for another round of sucking fun. I concentrated my licking to the inch or so just below the head of his tool. All the while, I maintained a good sliding suck action in and out of my wanton mouth. 

Now it was his turn for his heart rate to flutter. His breathing quickened. His cock began to swell slightly more. I looked up at Gary. By the look on his face, I could tell that this was pure bliss for him. I reached up to lightly grasp his loose balls with my hand as I continued sucking and tonguing his cock. 

Pulling off for just a moment, I said "Look me in the eyes." Then I returned his sex to my mouth.

He looked down into my eyes. Watching his penis sliding in and out of my mouth, there was nothing he could do. Nothing but cum. I felt him get even harder in my mouth for just a second. Then I felt the first generous pulse of warm sperm splash on my tongue. Pulling him from my mouth, I jacked his cock rapidly as he shot three ropes of hot semen onto my face. Not missing a beat, I put his still squirting penis back into my mouth. He pushed his cock deep into my mouth as he continued to drain the contents of his balls into my oral receptacle.

I continued to suck him but licked more gently as his orgasm subsided and his cock slackened. I only let him loose from my mouth when his last drop was spent and his penis was thoroughly cleaned.

Sighing deeply, Gary looked at me for a moment and said "Stand up. There's something I've always wanted to do."

I rose from the floor and Gary gently, thoroughly licked his cum from my face. And this was only the end of the first act of the night.



Face Time



Him: going there on business

Him: flight gets in at 715 I'm staying at the Hilton

Her: Pick you up at the airport? 

Her: Or meet you at the hotel?

Him: I'll take a cab to the hotel and expense it 

Him: unless you'd like to show up at the airport wearing something slutty ;)

Her: Just how slutty were you thinking?

Him: dunno. 

Her: 'Fine for public consumption, but slightly too small halter top' slutty?

Her: 'Wouldn't normally wear in public but at least it hides my nipples lingerie' slutty?

Him: mmmmm

Him: lingerie is nice 

Him: but that halter top is better

Him: the one with all those little hooks down the front

Her: I can do that.

Him: and I can undo it :)

* * * * * * * 

He came through the doors from baggage claim and glanced about the room. He knew what she looked like, but wasn't scanning faces. There. He would spot that cleavage from 100 yards, and after seeing so many pictures of it, he knew exactly who it belonged to. He didn't even have to look at her face to confirm. He did look at her face, though, returning her very welcoming smile. 

She bit her lip as he walked across the arrivals hall. He noticed that, while his cock was busy noticing the way she kept running her hand self-consciously across the wide expanse of her half bared breasts. Of course, his cock had been thinking of that those breasts the entire flight--he'd had to use the tiny airplane washrooms twice on the way up to jerk it back down. Airplane seatbelts and hard-ons just don't mix. 

He dropped his luggage next to her and pulled her into a tight hug, enjoying, finally, the feeling of having her tits pressed against him. They were by no means the only thing he fantasized about, but they did take up a healthy minority of his morning masturbation time. 

Her hands fluttered nervously for a moment before stopping, one around his neck and the other firmly planted on his ass. "Hey, there, cutie," she breathed into his ear. 

"Hey, yourself," he responded, not so accidentally brushing his hands against her tits as he pulled free of the embrace. Thank god for tight jeans, or the whole airport would be seeing his cock right now. The amused grin on her face told him that she had noticed, even if no one else had. 

She grabbed the smaller of his two bags and waved him forward. "I'm parked this way."

* * * * * * *

They didn't really say anything as they walked to the far corner of the parking garage. There were a few mumbled directions while they loaded his luggage into the trunk, but no real conversation. Once they were actually in the car, he turned to her and started speak, but was cut short by the sight of her slowly undoing her top. 

Each tiny hook revealed more of her pleasingly rounded breasts. As the first nipple pulled free of the confining fabric, he was compelled to clutch his cock through his jeans. She shifted slightly in her seat, turning to face him. "I thought you might like to see these now."

His only answer was a sort of strangled grunt. She leaned over and moved his hand from his crotch to her breast, and replaced it with one of her own. That brought their faces nearly to touching, so he leaned a little closer and caught her lips with his. She moved into the kiss, and he pulled on her lips with his teeth to match the way he pulled on her nipples with his fingers. 

He moved his lips from hers to her breasts. She used her free hands to feel for the snap and zipper to his jeans and spread them open. She pulled his cock into the gap, covered only by the flimsy fabric of his boxers.

The insistence with which he was ministering to her breasts pushed her back towards the door. He leaned further towards her, bracing one hand on the steering wheel to keep himself steady. She couldn't reach his cock from that angle, and instead devoted her attention to lifting her breasts up to his anxious lips. 

He'd spent so many months staring at pictures of those gorgeous tits. Imagining what they'd taste like. Imagining how heavy they'd feel in his hands. Imagining running his tongue around and over and around those nipples. 

That he was actually doing all of that seemed slightly unreal. The ache in his leg from leaning over the gear shift maintained his tenuous grip on reality. In his fantasies, they'd always been situated comfortably--on a bed, on a couch, occasionally on top of his kitchen table. But the pain was worth it. Damn near anything was worth it for tits like those. 

He was just switching his attention from left to right, when her body stiffened under him and she let both breasts fall from her hands. Looking up to her face, he saw her staring out across his shoulder. Half turning, he saw what she saw—a mini-van had parked next to them, and the driver was staring in at them. 

From the slight, hunched movements of the driver's arm, he guessed the guy was actively enjoying the show. "Relax," he murmured, "Tits like yours should be seen by as many people as possible. Let him watch."

Her body was still tensed, but she nodded, and moved forward until she was half kneeling, half sitting. Her breasts were in easy reach of his lips and easy view of the driver in the next car over. The move also brought his cock back within arm's length, and she pushed her hand inside his boxers. 

He felt her muscles loosen and her grip on his cock tighten as he went back to sucking, teasing and nibbling at her breasts. He continued in the same vein for several minutes, until he heard the door of the van open behind him. 

They both laughed as they watched the driver jump out, struggling to stuff his hard cock back in his pants, do up his zipper, close the door and answer his cell phone at the same time. As he dashed off, cock still half hanging out, she giggled, "I bet his wife's flight just got in."

"At least he'll be happy to see her," he declared. 

The distraction gone, she guided his head back to her chest, while he pressed her hand firmly back around the shaft of his cock. Her smooth, rhythmic motions and changes of direction and pressure nearly matched his own usual pattern. She'd clearly been paying very close attention during all those webcam sessions. 

It took only a minute or two for him to reach the breaking point. The first spurt landed on the dash, but she moved his head out of the way and redirected the next two onto her breasts. As he relaxed and enjoyed the orgasm, she reached a finger over and flicked up the spray from the dash. She massaged the slightly sticky mess into her breasts and then started to slowly refasten the hooks in her top.

When she had half of them refastened, with her nipples tucked somewhat unsafely back inside, he reached over and stopped her hands. "Leave the rest," he directed. "Somebody ought to brighten the parking lot attendant's day."



Face Time



Tappity Tappity Tappity

Busy day at work. I wish I could say I dealt with the exchange of gold or commodities or that I was working on some investigative story. Nope. I am a data entry clerk. I am correcting orders and verifying information. Chained to my phone while co-workers talk sports, drama-recaps, and office gossip. I want to talk about the Kentucky game instead of talking with some man on the phone by a pool who is phoning it in and telling me about the weather in Vegas. No break yet. Really need to pee but let me finish one more order.

Finally, I go and return to my desk to see I missed a text on my cell. Quick swipe with my finger and I see my boyfriend asking how my day is. Nice of him to think of me. I smile.

It must be a slow day in his IT world. I can picture him with his Doctor Who and toys on his desk. Talking about the next superhero movie. My geeky guy. I picture him in his office which is block north of where I work. I like to think of him in his nice shirt and tie. I like the novelty t-shirts but love his professional style. I can't become distracted. I take a deep breath and return to work mode.

I text back:

BZ

Tappity Tappity Tappity

BRRRR

Another text this time a khaki crotch shot with a bulge.

Thinking of you

Seriously? I think.

Nice, Mike. BZ.

Shouldn't you be cleaning a keyboard or something?

I go back to typing.

BRRRR

His hand is on his mound.

Keep working.

BRRR

BRRR

I get a couple of more texts that I ignore. Then it is silent.

I hope he didn't get caught. I keep typing for 10 minutes when my phone vibrates again.

SWIPE

I start with the first two texts I ignored.

First pic: pants unbuttoned and partially unzipped. His hand is an open palm gesture like he is showing me a prize on TV game show.

Second pic: pants unzipped and now his erection is lifting the cloth of his novelty binary patterned boxers. Again with the Wheel of Fortune hand modeling.

Last pic: His cock is out and he wrapped his hand around the shaft.

Use the Force and get your Love Saber

I smile because it is cute and sexy.

You are a dirty dork :)

He texts back.

Follow my instructions:

1) Log in to my Twitter account

2)Tweet "Monty Python Quotes - GO"

3) Put the phone between your thighs and keep working.

I shake my head at his text.

I'm wearing a skirt! And you have like 1,000!

BRRR

I know you're wearing a skirt ;-)

I have 1,012 followers, thank you.

Now stop shaking your head and do it.

Nasty Nerd.

O.K.

I do as he says and return to typing. My phone vibrates and I can feel it on the tender skin of my inner thighs. Very nice...now I'm distracted. I squeeze my legs together and release to vary the sensation. I look around and I find no one is interested in what is going on in my cubicle. I slide my hand under my skirt to push my phone closer to my panties. Every time there is a notification tweet the vibration ripples over my skin and makes me tingle through my knees, stomach and breasts. Even my shoulders are feeling it. Thank you, thousand-plus strangers.

The phone stops vibrating. I take it from underneath my skirt and place it on the desk.

My phone vibrates and I jump in my seat.

He texts me:

How did I make you feel?

I text back.

5 minutes. Go some place private.

I head to the bathroom and to the handicapped stall. It is large but slightly more private. It also has a mini bench.

I text him.

Put your phone on mute.

He texts back

OK

I video call him. He smiles and waves. I love his blue Irish eyes.

I make exaggerated sexy poses, wink and make kissy lips. I loosen my work pony tail to let my strawberry blonde hair fall. He smiles and goes with it. I hold the phone close to my chest and start to unbutton my blouse . After three buttons, I position the phone at an angle were he can see the tops of my breasts and slowly twist my shoulders. While he is watching, I unhook my bra from the front. I continue my shimmy to make the cups fall off Now he can see my nipples. No more cheesy smile. He looks around him to make sure no one is near. He starts biting his lip and I know he is getting turned on. He doesn't want the tease. He wants more.

I take my free hand and drag it over each breasts starting from nipple to the top of my neck. I comb my hair over my shoulder with my fingers because he loves the contrast of my hair on my pale skin. I look at him and he is just fixed on me. He looks like he wants to come through the phone. I take my free hand and put it over his mouth on the screen. He pretends to lick my fingers. I twist and squeeze my pale pink nipple and show him that this turns me on. I undulate like a porn star. He is shifting in his chair and starts pulling at his collar and loosening his tie. He is hooked.

I move a little to make my breasts jiggle and pop my hips so he can follow my curves with his eyes. I slide my hand down my side and hips until it finds the hem of my skirt and I pull it up slowly now he can see my panties. I look at him.

He mouths

I LOVE YOU

I place my phone on the little bench. In a coordinated motion while bending over to smile and wink at him I take my panties off. He likes when I put my face to his and let my hair fall over him. Through his phone,he pretends to brush my hair away. With my skirt over my hips and my hand free I straddle my phone. My left knee is on the little bench as my right leg is still straight and I get in a position where he has light to see me.

I pinch the sides of my labia. My pussy swells and the flesh is warm. . I know from him when I get hot like I am now, my skin flushes. He says my body tells him I'm ready to receive him. I do feel that way. I am feeling hot all over. I take my hands and open my lips so he can see me.

I slip one finger in and find I'm wet! I insert two fingers in my vagina and find it very smooth and slippery. I bend my right knee to go deeper. I go a little harder and faster. I use my left forearm against the wall to steady myself. The hard wall is cool and feels so good to touch. I let my head rest on my arm. My body feels very warm and sensitive all over. The ends of my hair tickle my shoulders and adds to my arousal. I start massaging my clit with my thumb. I open my mouth and pant. I'm going to orgasm and I have no idea what sound is going to come out of me. I can feel a drop of sweet roll down the back of my thigh and my motion slows. I think about sitting on Mike's face and his deliberate tonguing. He gets me to the point where every lick brings me closer to exploding. I think about my thighs on the side of his head while he breathes into me. I lift my head and bite my arm softly. I'm going to come. I'm going to come. What strength I have left I use to keep myself steady as I vary the pressure on my clit. I feel like I will just collapse but I need to come so bad. The tip is so sensitive I'm almost afraid to touch it but if I don't, I know I will be miserable. I brush it with my thumb and I pop. I'm not as sturdy as I was when I started. My right leg is quivering and my left knee aches but I feel good. I just lean against the wall with my eyes closed. I bring my hand up to my face and smell my scent. I smile.

I stretch, roll my neck, do calf raises, extend my arms. I lookI just see the time and my rose wall paper. He must have hung up. I should feel bad that I forgot about him but I needed this break from my desk. I put my clothes back on and wash my hands. I take wet a paper towel with cool water to pat my face and neck. Now that I look straight I return to my desk.

When I get there I see Mike sitting in my chair.

"What are you ---Why are you-?

I can't even think of which question to ask him.

"Sara, I had to see you."

He looks so serious. Oh, God! Please tell me I didn't just broadcast my pussy on the internet.

"Why?!?!?" I ask with every horrible scenario in my head.

"Why?" he realizes I'm panicky. He smiles and squeezes me tight.

"Why do you think, silly girl?" he whispers in my ear.

I can feel his bulge against my stomach.

I giggle and hug him back.



Face to face



"I'm behaving like a teenager." Elvi was irritated by her own behavior but she was so nervous, she couldn't help herself. He was coming, today, here. Nerves threatened to tie her stomach in a knot and almost desperately she tried to think of something to distract herself.

There was nothing to take her mind off things though. The first time he had mentioned the possibility of meeting she had almost panicked. It had been so long since she had dated, that she almost pushed him away but, in the end, she had agreed to have dinner with him. Since then they had shared many thoughts and he was no longer a stranger, at least not in her mind. 

Although there was no telling how they would react to one another, she wanted to be prepared for all possibilities. She had spent hours in the bathroom, shaving her legs, grooming her pussy, polishing her nails, making sure she smelt nice and felt smooth. God, she felt awful, all tense and coiled inside. For the hundredth time she looked at her watch. She had two hours to go but she couldn't bear the waiting.

Sitting at the edge of her bed she carefully donned a pair of sheer black nylons. Would he like that? Touch them in maybe a couple of hours? She felt her body respond to the exciting thought of his hands on her legs. Would he find her sexy in the black satin lingerie? Shaking her head she tried to suppress the fantasy. 

Next came a black skirt that reached to mid-thigh and a silver and black top that clung to her body and shimmered with every movement. Lastly she stepped into a pair of black stiletto heels. She looked into the mirror and frowned at her reflection. Would he want her? Find her attractive at least? 

A touch of kohl and dark red lipstick were the perfect finish. With two hands Elvi fluffed up her short dark hair. She smiled at herself and watched the long black and silver earrings swing gently. Should she switch them for the silver hoops? No, she decided, it was time to go.

In the hallway she hesitated, "The sensible or the elegant?" She laughed, as if there were any chance she would choose the sensible. Not today, today she could only go for elegant. So it was the grey fur coat - not real, of course, but it looked gorgeous all the same. She grabbed the black purse, checked on the cats and locked the door behind her.

"Why did I quit smoking? I wish I could light one up right now." Elvi was standing at the railway station, a tall bundle of nerves, anxiously looking at the clock, the railway tracks and the hordes of people leaving the city for the weekend, hosts of students hauling enormous bags - no doubt dirty laundry for their mothers - young couples with little children. It looked as if the city would be empty for the next few days. 

Finally the train came and Elvi swallowed. She knew he was tall and, from the photos, silver haired. It should be easy to spot him. There, was that him? No, too bald. There? No, not tall enough. Then, suddenly, he was standing in front of her.

"Elvi?" The stranger had silver hair and green eyes and his wide mouth was grinning. Before she could say anything his arms folded her in a hug and he kissed her on the lips. "I am so glad to finally meet you."

His hands cupped her face and Elvi could feel herself blushing like a young girl. "Roger?" Without thinking her arms had wrapped themselves around him and she found she had to look up to him. She laughed. "You are really tall. Good. I like that." She shivered a bit in the gust of cold wind. "Let's get out of here. Your hotel first?"

She had given it some serious thought but had booked a hotel for him instead of inviting him into her home. Why make things complicated by involving her son? He knew she was on a date, which was enough. What 18-year-old wanted to know what his parent was up to?

Located smack in the middle of the city, at the central square, the hotel was within walking distance of numerous bars, cafes, bistros and clubs. While Roger checked in and freshened up, Elvi waited for him in the cafe next door. It would have been appropriate to order a pot of tea, but she decided she needed something else to bolster her spirit. Grinning she thought how fitting it was to speak of Dutch courage. 

Halfway through her glass of wine she saw Roger coming in. Her heart made a little jump at the sight of him. Tall, with distinguished silver hair and a light suntan, his lean body had her fluttering inside. Elvi swallowed and did her best to hide the effect this man had on her. She did not want to look cheap or easy.

Roger hesitated for a moment as he stood just inside the cafe. He knew exactly what he wanted and how this weekend should progress but was not sure about her. He had been charmed by her wit at first. It had been fun to email with her, and the unexpected shyness he detected in some of her responses had made him curious to find out more about her. His suggestion to meet in the flesh was not completely blocked but he sensed it had been a close thing. When he stepped off the train this afternoon he had expected to find a cheerful buddy, a woman he could spend some enjoyable time with, maybe even share some pleasant sex. 

Nothing had prepared him for the sight awaiting him. He had this picture in his head of a boyish woman in jeans. Hell, that's how she looked in the picture she had sent. But the tall, long-legged woman who blushed when he kissed her stirred his loins like nothing in a long while. He checked in, showered and shaved in record time. God, he didn't want to miss one minute of being near her. Yes, he knew what he wanted. He grinned secretly at his own fantasies. If it were up to him, he would be fucking her brains out. Make that body quiver under his hands. Ruffle the elegance and transform the sophistication into lust. He swallowed and felt his cock respond to the fierce thoughts.

For a moment he just stood on the threshold, taking in the short dark hair, the dark eyes, the silver earrings accentuating the slender neck and the black and silver top clinging to her breasts. They looked full and firm and he noticed her nipples making small bumps. Nervous, cold or excited? 

With a few strides he stood beside her table and sat down next to her on the leather couch, his leg almost touching hers. It seemed only natural to put his arm on the back of the couch, placing her in his reach, so to speak. He was pleased to see a light flush creep into her cheeks. At least she was not impervious to him.

Elvi suddenly grinned and turned. "You want some Dutch courage too?" She lifted her glass of wine to him and took a sip, keeping eye contact over the rim. "Or is it strictly female to be nervous in a situation like this?" She put her glass down and licked a drop from her dark red lips. 

Roger cupped her shoulder in his right hand. "I prefer a handhold to steady my nerves." His fingers caressed the sensitive skin above her collarbone but she did not protest. In fact, she leaned back into his arm as if she had decided to give up resisting. Quick to seize an advantage, he pressed his leg against hers feeling her heat seep into him. He was about to land his hand on her thigh, when he spotted a waiter approaching their table. With a sigh he stopped himself and ordered a glass of wine as well.

The minute the waiter turned his back on them, Roger took his chance. His right hand softly turned her face to him and, as he kissed Elvi on the lips, his left hand stroked her leg, one finger tracing a path from her knee to the hem of the sexy skirt.

"You have been lying to me." His finger trailed along the hem of the skirt, from one leg to the other and back. "This is not even close to jeans." He chuckled. "You really surprised me, you know."

Elvi stirred, a bit uneasy. The teasing finger was creating a major turbulence inside her and her low voice dropped another notch. "Are you saying you would have preferred me wearing jeans and a sweater?" Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down. "I can always go home to change. Shall I?" She smiled at his fake horror.

"Can you do that again?"

"What?" Elvi appeared confused.

"Smile. You have the cutest dimple when you do that." Roger touched her face and let his fingers explore her soft skin, studying her expression as he did so.

Elvi cleared her throat. "I, uh, I think we had better go. To eat I mean." She looked suddenly like a frightened little girl and Roger had to make a big effort to not take her into his arms right on the spot. 

Walking through the brightly-lit city streets was a pleasure. Elvi fitted exactly under his arm and their legs had almost the same stride. He would have preferred to walk behind her though. Watching the shapely legs in high heels move, made him want to let his hands glide over them. Roger was not sure he wanted to have dinner. He was far more interested in tasting this fascinating woman.

Elvi led the way to a small Italian restaurant in one of the many streets that lead off the central square. Most streets were lined with old houses and paved with cobbled stones. The uneven surface caused her to grip his arm on more than one occasion and finally she gave in and circled his waist, seeking support from him. She laughed. 

"I am not used to this. Having a strong man to lean on, I mean." Roger felt her hand burning through his coat. 

"Lean all you want, hon, makes me feel useful, you know." He gave a quick kiss on the top of her head and hugged her for a moment.

Elvi looked at her companion, sitting across from her in the candlelit room. She had no idea what they had been eating, It had tasted good but she suspected anything would have tasted good this evening, in his company, his eyes constantly moving over her face, exploring her body. His hands were wrapped around a mug of coffee and her eyes were drawn to the strong fingers. Her face got a dreamy expression as she imagined those hands on her body. With a sigh she admonished herself to stop fantasizing. 

She bit her lip nervously as she watched Roger sip his coffee. Soon the meal would be over. Should she suggest a bar? Or maybe a visit to the jazz café? He had told her once he liked jazz, hadn't he? One hand crept up to toy with the long strands of her earring, a gesture that betrayed her uncertainty while she tried to read his expression. He liked to look at her; she knew that by now. But did he want to sleep with her? Under the table she clenched her thighs together. God, the thought alone was almost enough to start her moaning.

The green eyes studied the woman above the rim of the coffee mug. He thought she looked gorgeous with the flushed cheeks and the bright brown eyes, her nipples almost poking through the sensuous material of the top. He saw her hand reach for the strands of her earring again, learning fast to read her body language. Suddenly he smiled, put down the mug and took her hand in his own.

"I think it's time to go. Come." 

Not waiting for an answer, Roger pulled her up, bundled her in her coat and took off for his hotel. Since he had not let go of her hand, Elvi was forced to follow along. Normally she would have made a bitchy remark but tonight, with him, she was happy to let herself be hurried on. 

She had no idea how they got to the hotel and up in his room, but suddenly she felt his arms around her and his lips against hers. God, she had been waiting for this from the moment he stepped off the train. She closed her eyes and made a small sound at the back of her throat.

Roger groaned inwardly. He had promised himself to savor every minute. He had not been sure she would agree to sleep with him but he had vowed to make it last for forever if she did. That promise was hard to keep right now. He could feel her body giving in to him and it turned him on big time. 

Elvi felt his hands cupping her face, stroking her neck, sliding down her back to grab her ass. The touch of his fingers turned her insides almost liquid and she felt the heat spreading from her belly outward. Their coats were long gone and she felt his fingers creeping up her back again. She shivered when he touched the sensitive skin of her neck.

"Hmm, you like that?" 

His voice turned her on even more. Heat from deep inside started travelling in waves up and down her body and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against him. At first shyly, but gradually bolder, she kissed him in his neck, along his jaw and finally reached his mouth. The tip of her tongue brushed against his lips. Her hands caressed his neck and his shoulders, reached to the front of his shirt and started undoing the buttons.

Impatiently, she opened his shirt and, with a happy sigh, let her hands slide over his chest, rubbing her cheek against the silver curls. Roger didn't give her much time to enjoy the feeling though. When she looked up at him he caught her mouth and started kissing her in earnest. One arm was behind her back, the other pressing her hips into him, making her feel how much he wanted her.

Again she moaned softly and he plunged his tongue deep into her mouth causing her to press her hips even closer to him. His hands slid under the top, but she stopped him with a gesture of her hand.

"Wait. I'll make it easy." She had a naughty grin on her face as she did a step back. 

"Are you going to give me a show?" He smiled to let her know he would appreciate that and sat down on the edge of the big double bed.

Elvi said nothing, but kicked off the high heels and grabbed the hem of her top. In one fluid motion she got rid of the thing, and next she stepped out of the black skirt. She looked incredible in the thigh-high black nylons, the black satin bra and bikini briefs. Sure, you could tell she was not exactly thirty any more but, to Roger, she was gorgeous; round and soft and enough to fill his hands. 

"Come here." Roger held out his hand and Elvi let herself be pulled between his knees. "Can I do the rest?" She nodded and placed her hands on his shoulders. He felt the gesture gave him permission to rule her body and he let his hands explore soft, warm curves. While his mouth was busy kissing her ribs and her stomach, he took the chance to slide his hands up and down her long legs. 

He took hold of her hips for a minute, then traveled further up to her breasts. Both hands cupped her breasts, the thumbs almost touching the clearly swollen nipples. Circling her back he unhooked the bra and let it slide off her arms. 

"God, you're beautiful." His voice sounded gruff as he looked at the slightly sagging breasts with the puffy pink nipples. He never saw the look of pleasant surprise on her face as he softly touched her, feeling the weight, the firmness and the softness of her breasts. His fingers teased the nipples into hard peaks, and he felt her hands clutch his shoulders in response. 

Elvi let out a shaky, little laugh. "You certainly know how to please a woman, don't you?" 

"Am I pleasing you, Elvi?" Roger pulled her onto his lap and started licking and sucking the pink peaks. His hands firm on her hips, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. He felt her arch her back and he nipped her lightly. Her gasp made him grin in satisfaction. 

While his mouth was still busy teasing her nipples, his hands caressed the modest curves of her bottom, descending to her legs and taking the smooth nylons down with them. Once he got rid of those, his hands traveled back up, caressing the soft skin and the clearly defined muscles of her thighs. 

One playful push was enough to land Elvi on her back on the bed, and Roger looked down at her for a moment. His cock jumped impatiently at the sight of that enticing body, clad only in a pair of black bikini briefs that were definitely getting damp.

Elvi felt incredible, so wanted, so sexy she thought she could cum from that feeling alone. Roger was playing her body like his personal instrument and she loved every minute of it. He teased her with tiny kisses all over, disallowing her to do the same to him. When she started begging, he gave in and let her kiss and touch him till she reached for his cock. He was still wearing his pants and he caught her hands in his own. 

"Not yet, sweetie. I want to make you cum first." With that he peeled off the wet black briefs and looked at the trimmed dark curls. Firm hands spread her thighs and he enjoyed the sight of a smooth, shaved pussy, blood-filled and glistening with moisture.

When his lips touched the inside of her legs Elvi gasped with pleasure and, when his tongue slid over the satin folds, she cried out: "Oh god, that feels so good." Her hips bucked when he reached her clit and sensing her need, Roger abandoned the soft touch. His tongue attacked her clit and he plunged first one, then two fingers in her pussy. He revelled in feeling the hot wet walls clench around his fingers as he stroked her as deeply as he could. He felt the tension building in her body, curled his fingers and found her g-spot. 

His fingers fucked her furiously while his thumb stroked her clit and he moved his body up along hers to kiss her fiercely. Her body arched up off the bed and she started to make tiny sounds. She tensed and he felt the ripples of her orgasm travel up and down her body. He plunged his fingers once more deep inside and pressed his thumb down on her clit, making her explode again and again. She moaned and bucked her hips against his hand, the powerful muscles inside her clenching around his fingers with every wave that rocked her.

Elvi sighed deeply as she finally came down to earth again. She opened her eyes and gazed at the face that smiled down at her. "God, Roger, that was incredible." Her hands came up and touched his mouth, then pulled him to her to kiss him fiercely. 

Pushing and prodding him, Elvi managed to get Roger on his back. Still laughing she looked him over and then her face got a funny expression. She hadn't noticed him removing the rest of his clothes but she did see his sturdy cock rearing its eager head. Licking her lips she quickly removed the long earrings and proceeded to trail her silver fingernails down his chest while her mouth followed the same path a little slower. 

Roger clenched his fists to keep from taking the initiative again. God, he wanted to fuck her so badly, but he was also dying to let her explore his body. Right now she was sitting on her knees, at his side, driving him slowly insane with her stroking and kissing. The touch of her fingers to the base of his cock made him groan, and he bucked his hips to get inside the mouth that was hovering over him, blowing softly on his tensing erection. 

To his surprise she did not take his cock into her mouth at once. Instead she rubbed her face against it and smiled, a bit embarrassed at him. "I like the feel, so soft, just like velvet." To clarify her point, she closed her eyes and brushed his still growing erection over her cheeks. It didn't take long though before she started kissing and licking him and Roger felt his cock getting wet from her mouth. 

Almost snarling he grabbed her ass, surprising her with the vehemence of his gesture. "Roger? Did I do something wrong?" 

He saw the genuine concern in her eyes. Otherwise he would never have believed such innocence in a grown woman. She had told him, she was not very experienced, but surely.... A second look at her face convinced him of her sincerity and a sudden grin split his face.

"No, hon, you did nothing wrong." He used his bigger strength to flip her on her back and as he spread her legs, he saw a sudden flush spread over her face. "Exactly. You make me want to fuck you till you explode." Kneeling between her legs, he used his fingers to open her pussy. "Will you cum for me?" He felt her open her legs even wider and enjoyed the way she moaned at his words. 

He wanted to tease her with his fingers for just a little longer but the sounds she was making in the back of her throat were too much. The tip of his cock slid between the slick lips his fingers held apart and he closed his eyes at the exquisite feeling. Unable to hold back any more he plunged in, savoring the tight and hot walls that clenched his erection.




Face to Face



She approached the house slowly, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. She'd never done this before and she was unsure if it was even a good idea. The house had been easy enough to find. It wasn't even far from her own. That in itself added a little bit of nerves too. 

It was a simple enough home in a middle class neighborhood in reasonably good shape. The residents were more concerned about keeping all of their bills paid rather than showing off money. Some homes had carefully tended yards, some didn't. There was the odd car parked in the grass and two or three cars that were old enough to be called classics in various stage of repair.

She stepped up on the porch, more like a deck really, and moved to the door. It opened as she reached it and there was the man she'd never see face to face before, but had found a mutual interest with over the internet. He smiled nervously at her as she approached the door he was now holding.

"Hi" she said, smiling self-consciously.

"Hi, it's nice to see you." He said, looking as nervous as she felt. She wondered if her jitters were showing as plainly as his.

She stepped into the room and found herself face to face with a large puppy of indeterminate breed. A very happy puppy too, ready to give tons of affection to anyone in reach. A hissing noise from another part of the room revealed a cat that clearly thought the dog was a foolish creature.

"Don't mind him," the man said, catching the big pup's collar. "He just loves everybody. I'll still say the person that dumped him was an idiot."

He wrestled the dog through the kitchen and into the back yard. The dog looked a little forlorn, but went out and started carting a deflated soccer ball around.

After closing the door, the man turned and gave his guest a bit more attention. She was the same height as he was. She had a sweet open face and beautiful lips that just begged to be kissed. She had a few extra pounds, just as he'd known from the first time they traded e-mails, but those pounds were in all the right places. She had curves that many women would die for. Her breasts were very large and gave her figure a voluptuous quality that had him catching his breath. Her hair was long, dark blond streaked with brown. He always had a thing for long hair, no matter the color.

For herself, she looked him over just as much. He was brown haired and hazel eyed, which had long been her favorite features in a man's face. He was kind of a stockily built man which made him look a bit shorter than he actually was. But that was just fine with her. His arms and legs were heavily muscled, but not defined like a bodybuilder. She suspected that his appearance was more from heavy work in his past than anything else. The only odd part was his forearms. They seemed to have heavier muscle than his biceps. It almost seemed like he might have Popeye the Sailor's arms instead of what was usually normal.

He caught the look and grinned, "That's what I get for doing medieval reenactment for a few years. Swords take massive forearm strength from the wrist work. It has a tendency to stay with you even after you've retired from the game."

She smiled back at him, "It's fine with me."

He turned away slightly and she noticed that he was showing a bit of an extra bulge in his shorts. They'd been talking in email about a casual sex relationship to help them both with needs they weren't getting elsewhere. But this was the first proof she had that he was interested in going all the way. "I'm not sure where to start. Small talk feels like a delay for what we both want, and jumping right into it almost seems like not caring about anything but getting off." He said quietly.

Taking a deep breath she reached to his cheek and stroked it gently, "Jump in and show me how you care for a woman's needs, and I will do the same for you."

Releasing a held breath he turned and took her into his arms. Pulling her close so that her breast pressed hard against him, he leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was all she had hoped for, long, slow, deep and so intense that it only ended when they both ran out of air. His hands were now stroking her back as he leaned in to continue the kiss. She became aware of his hardness pressing on her thigh and felt her own arousal begin in earnest.

Breaking away from the kiss, he trailed one hand gently across her breast. Still under her blouse and bra, her nipple hardened and she gasped with the surprising intensity of the feeling. It had been a long time since she had felt that rush from someone's touch.

Taking her hand, he led her through the garage and down the stairs to the basement. It was finished in white with a cream colored carpet. It was also somewhat cluttered with two desks and a table, plus assorted odds and ends. There was also a corner that had several pillows and blankets and a small mattress. It was to this corner that he led her.

"I figure that all either if us has had in a long time was rut in the bedroom, so I wanted to do something different, even if it is a little odd." He said with a smile as he turned to her again.

His hands reached for her. "May I?" he asked, his nerves showing again in the tremble of his fingers.

She nodded soundlessly. He touched her breasts with care and strength combined, gently squeezing and rolling her beautiful 44DD cups in her bra until she was breathless from the touch. Deftly he undid the buttons on her blouse and slipped it from her body. Reaching behind herself, she undid the clasps and let her bra fall away. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of her wine dark nipples. He cupped one breast in his hand leaned forward to lick her nipple's hardness. Firm and ready it stood and he sucked and loved it as she moaned her pleasure. With his other hand he stroked and fondled her other breast, until it was time to switch his mouth to it. It would never do to not care for both equally.

As he sucked and licked her chest, she reached for him. Her own arousal was leaving her sex soaked and aching. She stroked hardness in his shorts and was rewarded with a low moan from him as he continued to lavish attention on her long unappreciated body. Tugging at the belt, she unfastened both the belt and the button beneath. She slipped her hand in and found him huge and rock hard. Another strangled moan from him as she stroked his length. 

Finally, he stepped back slightly and dropped his pants entirely. Then tugged his t-shirt over his head and stood there fully naked for her to see. He wasn't perfect, but neither was she. Perfection being little more than a dream to make normal people stress about.

Coming back to her, he unfastened her jeans and slowly tugged them down over her hips. He slid her panties down with them and let them fall at her feet. Now he was kneeling in front of her, with his hands gently caressing the fine hair of her sex and feeling for more. She threw her head back as his fingers found the lips of her pussy and gently rubbed their softness. She tangled her fingers in his hair and spread her legs as far as she could and still be standing while his hand reached and found her clit. At his touch it was like a shock went through her body. Her pussy was wetter than it had been in a very long time. Her nipples were so hard they nearly hurt but the pleasure was sooooo good she did not want it to stop.

His finger slipped into her moistness, her legs shaking so that she could barely stand. Then he leaned in and nuzzled her hair with his nose gently. Pressing in, he tasted her clit with his tongue.

It was too much; she couldn't stand upright any longer. Breathing heavily, she pulled away and lay down on the small mattress, opening herself wide to his touch. He smiled and sat down beside her, his erection rampant and within inches of her breasts. Leaning over her body, he reached for her sex again and began massaging her clit slowly. Her breathing was heavy and fast, he could feel the tremors in her body as she reached closer to climax. 

She was swimming in her arousal now, nothing but the feeling of pleasure radiating through her. He still had one hand rolling and squeezing her breast, while the other drove her closer and closer to a climax that she hadn't had in weeks. Closer the feeling came, she was panting hard now, sweat on her brow as he continued to stroke her body oh so carefully. He shifted his head down using his finger to hold her open, began licking her throbbing clit. His erection was now pressed hard against her breast, a little twist and she could take him in her mouth if she had the breath to do so.

"Oh oh, ooohhhh!" Her orgasm swept her like a hurricane striking land. He kept his tounge to her clit as she came in wave after wave after wave of pure intense sexual pleasure that felt as though it would never end. 

The intensity of that climax left her drained and weak. When she opened her eyes moments later, he was sitting up by her, his erection still rock hard and waiting for her attention. He smiled, not a smile of conquest, but a smile of satisfaction, like that of a craftsman at his trade. "I'm a little out of practice I'm afraid."

She laughed a bit, he'd given her an amazing sexual experience already and they had much more time to explore each other. She reached for his erection, sliding her hands gently up and down his shaft.

"Ummm...." he said, closing his eyes. "Your touch is so good and it's been so long for me, I may not last long the first time."

"No problem," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "I think I can bring you back up after your first release very easily." Then she slipped her tongue over his shaft and began to give to him what he had given to her. What they both so badly needed....... ------------------------------------------------

She gently sucked at his length, pulling as much as she could into her mouth and teasing his tip with her tongue. His head was thrown back, lost in the pleasure she was giving him. She could taste his pre-cum trying to ooze free. He wasn't kidding; it wasn't going to take long for him the first time. She sucked a little harder, drawing a strangled moan from him now much as he had done for her a few minutes before. She smiled at the thought and gently nibbled his manhood as she felt him swelling already.

She backed off a bit and reached for his sac. Gently massaging it, she wondered why it was so close to his body, it wasn't exactly cold. Carefully she fondled him. He breathing was growing heavier by the moment.

She slipped her hand back up onto his shaft, sliding up and down his length. He was going to climax soon and she knew it. Taking him back in her mouth, she began sucking and licking him even harder, determined that he would feel his climax as strongly as she had hers.

"Ahhhh!" he gasped and his hips bucked at her mouth. Quickly she pulled him free and started working his shaft with her hand again, but this time she closed in with her breasts and rubbed the tip against them as she stroked him to his climax. 

He swelled hard, then, suddenly reaching his climax, he showered her breasts with his seed. His entire body shuddered with each pulse, nearly doubling over with the intensity. Carefully, she licked around the head of his shaft, extending his pleasure even further.

Finally, he relaxed and opened his eyes. "That had to be one of the most intense orgasms I have ever experienced. Unreal.." His breath was still rapid and heavy.

Reaching back to her, he stroked her breast gently. Her nipple rose to meet his hand immediately. With a smile he leaned to take it into his mouth again.

The pleasure struck her with an intensity that madder her draw in her breath with a hiss. She needed this attention so badly and loved every single second. Glancing down, she realized that she still had his shaft in her hand and it had barely lost any hardness. Stroking him again, she began to tug him gently to her soft, drenched pussy. She had to feel his hardness inside her, all the way inside, as deep as he could go.

Feeling her pull, he shifted between her legs and let her guide him in. Her softness enveloped him like a gentle glove, grasping him, and bringing his arousal back to life. Slowly he started to slip in deeper, but she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in all the way in a single motion. A gasp of breath was torn from them both.

He began to thrust against her, shifting himself nearly upright and tucking her legs close together in front of his chest. His thrusts came slow and deep. She could feel his tip touching her cervix on each motion, her body responding and drawing closer to another climax. 

Reaching around her legs, he began fondling and stroking her breasts again. Sensation was going to her head. Her breasts were tingling, the nipples so hard they nearly hurt. Her sex was growing wetter still as he thrust himself into her. Her climax was nearing again.

Slowing suddenly, he separated her legs and leaned forward to lick and suck at her nipples. Yet he didn't stop his thrust at all. Reeling from the dizzying sensations from her body, her head leaned back against the pillow and she closed her eyes, reveling in the new touch. Then it got stronger, his fingers worked into her sex and he began massaging her clit at the same time he was thrusting inside her.

"Ohhhh...." The orgasm started at her clit and rapidly filled her entire sex. She was pulsing, vibrating and shaking so hard she nearly passed out from the overload. His fingers continued to work at her clit as he fucked her pussy for all he was worth. Through the haze of pleasure, she felt him swell again. He started to draw out.

"No! Come inside me! I want to feel it! Please! Please!" Looking down at her, he smiled and thrust back into her body hard and strong. His breath came short and fast, his fingers rubbing her clit and holding her orgasm nearly continuous. 

The dam burst and he came to her, filling her body with his heat. Never did he let up on her clit, she came again on his orgasm and felt his come overflow her. Slowly, he lowered himself down on top of her, slipping his arms under her back and holding her tightly. Still he pulsed a bit in her body. Each pulse gave her a gasp of pleasure. 

Pulling back slightly, he tongued her breast again, then nibbled her nipple gently. "I hope you feel as good as I do right now. I haven't given pleasure to a woman in a long time."

She smiled. "You're just what I needed, someone to make me feel like a whole woman again." She ran her fingers through his hair idly. "I haven't let a man come inside me since I was married." The memory brought her down a tiny bit, but not much.

"Well," he said, and she was surprised to see him looking discouraged. "If you hadn't asked me to stay inside you, I was going to pull out, risk of pregnancy or not."

"I'm on the pill you know," she said with a smile.

"Wouldn't matter if you weren't, my balls don't work right. I'm genetically sterile. I could make love to every woman on earth and none would get pregnant." He smiled slightly, but there was effort behind it. "That may be why my sex drive is so high. There's such a small chance of a pregnancy, my body is trying to make up the difference. It can be fun, but there's a real down side to it. I'll never father a child." There was no longer lust in his eyes, only sorrow.

Moments later she was holding his head against her breast. Dizzy from the pleasure, but holding her own tears back as he let a long buried pain cry itself out on her chest. 



Face to Face



Have you ever met a woman that down plays her appearance? I didn't think so, neither had I until my neighbor moved in next door. You could see right away that Shela had beautiful features, but she was hiding them very carefully. Odd for a woman, don't you think? 

I guess that's a pretty stupid thing for me to notice, normally I don't look twice at a woman unless she's under twenty-five. Look, I know what you're thinking, this guy is one of those assholes that won't even talk to a girl unless she looks like a model. You might be right, but I don't rag on you about hating cauliflower do I? I know what I like, and I have no interest in getting tied up in a relationship. I've noticed that as women get older that they want to settle down, and that's not going to happen with me cause Jerry don't play that game.

No, it's not that I'm that shallow. I have a successful business to run, and I would just end up hurting some poor unsuspecting woman. Shit, I've even proved it to a couple of tough girls that thought they could handle it. They moved in, at separate times of course, and were gone in a month or two. I didn't lie to either of them, I just did what I normally do, which is work. I don't think there is a woman out there that would be able to put up with me for too long.

I work entirely too much, and I like it. Maybe it's a character flaw, I have a bad case of tunnel vision. If I am concentrating on the latest deal at work, the rest of my life is put on hold. How many of you women would be able to put up with that kind of shit? Not too many I'll bet, at least not without having an affair or two to ease the pain. We all know how that ends, the couple ends up in divorce court and winds up hating each other.

Nope, I've made up my mind to stay single until I'm ready to commit on my terms. Then I will be able to throw every thing I have into a marriage. Between you and me, I probably will always be single.

We got a little side tracked from talking about Shela didn't we, you see how focused I become? So anyway, the talk around the neighborhood is that she is recently divorced. She's about thirty-six, that makes her a couple of years younger than me. I hardly ever see her leave, so I don't think she works.

So what does this all mean to you? About the same as me I suppose, not too damn much. I didn't really even give Shela a thought. She's nice enough and all that, but she just wasn't the one to float my boat, if you know what I mean.

We could end the story right here, but you'd probably walk away scratching your head. I can hear you now, "What a fuckin' moron." There is more to this story, and after all that's why you're here. 

I started to get this weird feeling that somebody was watching me. Every time I was outside, I felt sort of creepy. Then one day I noticed that Shela was the one giving me the creeps. She didn't make it obvious, there wasn't any staring or stuff like that. It's just that I noticed when I got that weird feeling, Shela wasn't too far away.

Any time that I was outside enjoying the sun, Shela would be out in her yard also. If I was catching some rays by the pool, I could hear her moving around in her back yard just across the fence. When I washed my car in the driveway, she would be pulling weeds from her flower garden. Now, it wasn't that I felt all that uncomfortable, it was just strange to be watched all of the time. I'm ok with the way I look and if she'd ask me, I'd show her the goods. It was the peeping that I didn't understand.

One day I was mowing my lawn, when I noticed a knot had come out of the wooden fence in the back yard. Not a big deal you say, but I do know something about wood. If the wood is very dry then these chunks will occasionally pop out. If the wood is well treated then it doest happen on its own, I oil that fence every year to keep it looking new and dark the way I like it. Now couple that with the fact that I think Shela is spying on me, my mind started to wonder if she had purposely made herself a little peephole.

I waited until I saw Shela leave, she goes shopping on most Saturdays. I felt funny about the sneaking around but I had to know. I popped over the fence and looked through the hole trying to get a perspective, I could see the pool area but most interestingly, my lounge chair that I tanned in was centered. Was this just coincidence? Nah, I don't think so, she was watching me.

I felt a little pissed, but at the same time I smiled and was flattered. The other thing that I felt was arousal at our little cat and mouse game. I went home and dug out some of my video equipment, I set up a camera looking down into her yard from my roof. I was going to catch her spying, I had no idea what I was going to do with that information, but that wasn't the really the point right now.

I had her back yard covered, and it was wired to my cable system in the house. I could easily see her from any room with a TV. I hate to admit it but this was getting interesting, I can't remember the last time I had this much fun with my clothes on.

To test out my new theory about Shela spying, I simply set the camera to record and went out to the pool to lie in the sun. I waited until Shela was home from her shopping, I made some noise in the yard for a few minutes to let her know where I was. I went over to my chaise and removed my shirt, then I simply relaxed for an hour. I say simply, but it wasn't that easy, I wanted to run inside and check the tape. It was like a compulsion, I had to know.

The suspense was killing me as I waited for the proper amount of time to pass. Would she watch me, or was I just being paranoid? When I finally got to see the tape, I was as excited as a schoolboy. I watched for a few minutes with only images of Shela's backyard on the screen. As I was beginning to think she wouldn't show up, there she was. She looked around, making sure the coast was clear, and went to the fence where the knot had been removed.

She squatted at first, then I suppose to get more comfortable, she moved to her hands and knees. As I watched this boring scene unravel, I felt myself becoming very aroused. What the hell was it about watching someone that didn't know you could see them? I began to understand why Shela did this. Without thinking, I had my shorts down around my ankles and was stroking myself. For a long time there was very little action on the tape, but Shela surprised me when she started to rub her breasts.

I had the remote in one hand and my cock in the other. She soon had her hand down her shorts and was obviously fingering her pussy. My imagination went into overdrive at that point, I could almost see the moisture dripping from her oozing cunt. My hand was moving faster and as Shela tensed in orgasm, I shot my load.

We had shared a moment without her being aware. My God what a feeling that was, I knew something that she thought no one else knew. I hardly slept that night just thinking about the earlier experience. I wondered how I could use this to take things a little further. It became clear that I had some control of what happened, but what to do?

I had to come up with a plan. When I thought about it the next day, it was marvelously simple. I would spend the rest of the week laying out the bait, and Saturday I would spring the trap. The bait was me of course, all I had to do was make sure my blinds were left open. I would go about my normal routine but occasionally I would expose myself. I would dry myself from a shower in the bedroom instead of the bath, or undress for bed near the window.

My normal workday was twelve to fourteen hours, but I found it very difficult to keep my mind off of Shela. Each night I would vary the way I exposed myself, but Shela caught on to the open blinds quickly and was following my script nicely. I made sure she got a chance for a good look each night. 

On Saturday I planned to surprise her at the fence, it would embarrass the hell out of her. After I thought it over, I almost backed out of the whole thing. It struck me that she wasn't really hurting anyone, and I was just as bad for the spying I was doing on her. I changed the plan, and I would leave the outcome up to Shela.

I'll tell you right now, I wasn't nearly as excited about the exhibition aspect of what I was doing, the real thrill was watching Shela. Late that evening I showered and went about my evening without bothering to get dressed. I could see on my TV that Shela was outside, shit, she had even brought a small ladder the look over the fence.

At about ten o'clock, I did something I've never done before and will probably never do again, I shaved in front of the window. No, I don't mean my face, I shaved every hair from around my pubic area. I don't have a clue why I thought to do this, and I'll probably regret it in a few days but it was a good show for Shela. I could see that she almost fell from her perch while see strained to get a better look.

When I finished shaving, I felt it was time to see where our little game would end. Still standing in the bedroom window, I picked up the phone and dialed Shela's number. She ignored the ringing at first, but I held on the line until she finally relented and went to answer the phone.

I don't think she had put two and two together yet as she answered, "Hello."

In a sultry voice I said, "Hi Shela, this is Jerry. How are you tonight?"

"I... I'm fine... I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Jerry who?" she asked hesitantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jerry your next door neighbor," I said smoothly.

"Jerry... This is a surprise, I was... I was just finishing... uh... cleaning my... uh... kitchen. What can I do for you?" she stuttered.

I swear I heard her hiss the word shit before she could cover the mouthpiece. "Shela, I'll be frank with you. I know you've been watching me..."

She interrupted, "I... I have not..."

"Shela, Just listen to me, I have left the front door unlocked and I will wait for you for twenty minutes. If you want to see what you already know I will be doing, you'll be here by then. I will only wait for you a while, then I'll start without you. Shela, I know you want this, I want you to be here and see me. I won't touch you, not unless you want me to. Remember Shela, this is all your choice, and I assure you its no joke. I am going to wait twenty minutes, no more, and then I'm going to stroke my cock for you Shela. I will be thinking about you Shela, and only you. I will do this whether you are here or not, you decide if you want to watch me do it. Not through the window this time, only for you, face to face," I said calmly.

I hung up the phone quietly, it was done now, would she come, or would she move out of the neighborhood in shame? I pulled the blinds, and turned off all the lights. I went to the bedroom and lit a single candle to set the mood for her. I didn't want her to feel threatened, the bright lights would probably scare her away and that wasn't what I wanted.

If you watch a pot, the water won't boil. That's what it felt like now waiting for her to come to me. I was hard with anticipation, I began to want this very much. It was never a fantasy before, but it was the only thing I could think of these last few days. As I waited in the dark, I promised myself to remain in control and take things very slowly.

After what seemed like hours, I heard the front door open and close. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, I smiled to myself. She was cautious and slow to appear in my bedroom, I wondered how many times had she turned to run only to be driven closer by her own lust.

She stood silently in the doorway, not moving closer or not drifting away. It seemed to be my move now, so I stroked my hard shaft and watched for a reaction. Her eyes were riveted to what I was doing, like a deer caught in the bright headlights of a car.


I patted the bed and asked, "Would you like to come a little closer?"

Shela still seemed mesmerized but she slowly drew closer to the bed. Reassuringly, I said, "It's ok, I won't touch you. Wouldn't it be fairer if you took off your clothes too?" She clutched at her shirt, as if to say no. "Shela, I have trusted you. I'm the one that has everything to lose here, you can trust me. You can do a little as or as much as you like, but it is only fair, I'm totally naked for you."

She finally spoke, "You'll laugh, no one wants to see an old woman's ugly body."

"Shela, you're far from old, I'm a couple of years older than you. You have nothing to worry about. Please, it would help me if we could do this together, you can just watch if you like but I would like to see you too."

She was hesitant, and tried to cover herself as she stripped. She had the body of a woman her age, no more, no less. Her breasts sagged a little, she had a rounded stomach. There were curves that showed a few extra pounds on her, but none of it mattered to me. I was use to twenty year old hard bodies, but I wanted Shela more than any of them right now. The excitement on my part was incredible, I watched as she slowly and modestly undressed.

She stood before me, and watched me for signs of disgust. I said what I thought, "You look beautiful to me, and that's what matters." I didn't lie, she was at that moment in time the most beautiful woman I could think of. All the others before here were gorgeous in their own right. But the way Shela presented herself to me made her special.

I moved over and made more room for her. She climbed on the bed slowly, still with trepidation. I asked, "Have you ever watched a man cum for you?" She shyly shook her head. "Is that what you want me to do for you, do you want to see me cum? Should I do it slow or fast?" I asked, as I stroked my straining cock for her.

Her breathing was irregular and labored as she meekly answered. "Slow, do it slow for me. I want to see your cock shoot for me." Her hand was now between her legs. In the dim light, I could see her nipples hardening. Shela's arousal was evident, the smell of sex was heavy in the air. 

"Is this the way you want it?" I asked, squeezing the base of my cock and making it swell, "Tell me Shela, tell me what to do."

Shela was on her knees now and she straddled my legs, she sat back with her ass just above my kneecaps. I adjusted the pillows behind my head so I could get a clear view of Shela fingering her clit. I added some lotion to my palm and smeared it on the head of my cock. I poured a large dollop of the warming lube into Shela's outstretched hand and watched her lightly dab some on her tightened nipples and aureolas. 

Shela was rocking back and forth, she was applying the remaining oil the open lips of her dripping pussy. The short blond hair of her bush glistened in the flickering candlelight. I pumped my fist up and down, watching as Shela brought herself closer and closer to climax.

"Faster Jerry, oh God yes," She chanted as I sped my pace, "Ooh, yes cum with me Jerry, please."

"Closer Baby, Let me cum all over you," I grunted. I was getting close, and Shela scooted up my thighs. Her fingers were a blur as she rubbed herself, her eyes were closed and her mouth was open in a silent scream. 

I could feel her starting to tremble and I quickened my pace. We were both at the threshold, and my balls tightened with the first shot about to spew my juice towards Shela. She tensed as waves of pleasure shot through her body. The splatter of sperm shot randomly at her midsection and tits. I watched in awe as the gooey cream drizzled down her sweaty skin. Her breaths were quick but slowing, and mine followed suit. We remained silent for a short time, watching each other in the aftermath of our mutual exhaustion.

I reached for Shela, pulling her down onto my chest. She resisted a little, but gave up as I wrapped my arms around her and held her in a tight loving embrace. Did I just say loving? Yeah, that's what I felt for her, though I didn't say the words. I hugged her closer to me until the weight made it hard to breathe. I rolled to one side with her still in my arms, and covered us both with the bed spread.

We lay huddled together, and I felt tears on my shoulder. I kissed the top of her head and stroked her hair lightly until she fell asleep. I lay awake for hours, reveling in Shela's warmth. What an incredible evening this had been for me, I only hoped she had enjoyed it as much as I had. As strange as it might seem, I felt comfortable with her. A woman that I hardly knew made me feel new and alive.

When the sun hit my eyes the next morning, Shela was gone. I needed so much to talk with her but I really had no clue where to start. I wrestled with my emotions for the better part of the day. Each time I started for the door, I chickened out. 

This fear inside was ludicrous, how could I be afraid to face Shela now after the incredibly intimate night we had spent together? I vacillated back and forth so long that it had become too late to go to her. I tried to sleep, but the thoughts of Shela keep my eyes from closing. It wasn't the sex I saw in her, it was the fragile nature of a woman that I found myself caring very deeply for. It was just after midnight when I finally knocked on her door.

When Shela opened the door and saw me, she averted her eyes right away. Looking down at the floor as if in shame, she said, "So is this how it's always going to be, sneaking around in the middle of the night?"

"No it isn't, I came to tell you I'm sorry..."

"Well I'm sorry too Jerry. Last night should never have happened, I was weak and vulnerable. I'm sorry if I thought... well... maybe we could have... Oh shit Jerry I don't know, I thought you and I could..."

"Shela, that's what I came to tell you. I want to get to know you. I want to learn every thing about you. You're all I thought about all day. Shela, I've never wanted a woman more than I want you. It may not be that we are right for each other, but I want you to give me the chance to find out." I said, touching her hands softly.

"Jerry, you don't have to do this. If you want me, you can have me, but don't try to turn this into something that its not. I won't be led down that path again only to be left for a younger woman. I couldn't stand it again," she said with tears starting to fall.

I pulled her closer and held her in my arms, "You don't have to say anymore right now."

For the second night in a row I held Shela until she fell asleep. I thought about what Shela had said, the part about being hurt again. Was I just trying to lead her down a dead end path? Could I be so selfish, to try a relationship and then let my work get in the way, again? I was defiantly only considering what I wanted, I only assumed that Shela would want me. I slowly slipped my arm from beneath Shela's sleeping form and slipped out into the night.

As the days went by, my tunnel vision became very focused. I could concentrate on only one thing, and it was about to destroy me from the inside. I didn't get to be a success by watching the world pass me by, I had two roads to follow and it was time for me to make up my mind. I could pursue a relationship with Shela, knowing full well that I would have to reinvent myself, or I could continue on the safe familiar path I'd been on for most of my life.

It may seem funny to you that I could be smitten by a woman that I didn't know, it sure struck me as odd. Everything about my life seemed odd to me now. I was looking at what I had and what it took to get there, was it all worth it? What did I really have? When the truth struck me, I had a hard time believing it. 

I decided not to play Shela as a fool or an easy target. If she was what I wanted, she was worthy of my best effort. There would be no shortcuts, and I hoped she would be able to see that.

I had to prepare myself, I had to get things in order to succeed. Surprisingly it took very little time to accomplish the sale of my company. I wanted, no, I needed out. Work had become secondary in my future, so I fired myself. I couldn't tolerate uncommitted employees.




Face to Face



I was a nervous, but I was prepared. In a new tuxedo with two dozen red roses, I rang the doorbell. Shela answered the door with shock written allover her face, "Jerry, wha..."

"Excuse me Miss, I know it may seem forward but I would like to ask if you would care to accompany me to dinner some evening," I asked as I presented the flowers to her.

She could barely see over the bouquet, "Jerry," she said questioningly.

"Shela," I questioned back.

We did have dinner, that night and every night thereafter. I found that she was everything a woman should be, sweet, kind, loving and most of all, we could talk. I found a best friend first, we were and are so compatible. I think the love was there from the start, but I let Shela set the pace. She had some trust issues with men, but we jumped that hurdle together. Shela finally opened up and bloomed like a flower. She no longer tries to hide her beauty behind those frumpy clothes.

As for me, there is only so much that success or money will do for you. I found out that some things are much more precious. Shela and I have been happily married now for several years, it wasn't love at first sight and we let our love develop slowly. I wonder how or if she will tell the true story of how we met to our daughter. It was not your typical first date, but every now and again we relive the experience of our first face to face encounter.



Face to Face



*ok, here's my first go. Please let me know what you think. I know it's a little thin on details but this is a story for someone I know (not about them, for her and her boyfriend).*

*

I knocked on the hotel room door waiting for you to answer. Even though we have known each other for four years, you and I have never seen each other, pictures...yes; but not face to face and I was exited and nervous.

You open the door and look down into my hazel eyes then slowly down my 5ft 4inch plus size body pausing at my 42dd's while I start at your feet and slowly work my way up your 6ft 3inch body to meet your green eyed gaze.

You looked like a football player, tall, big and muscular! "Holy guacamole John! I didn't realize how much taller then me you were!" You laugh and pull me into the room and into your arms for a hug and a deep kiss, twining our tongues together before chuckling at me. "You're just short Sara. Come on, lets get in the jacuzzi."

I grin at you and ask pertly "Impatient much? I mean we've had cyber sex but that doesn't mean I'm easy and just hop into bed with you the second I walk in the room."

You grin in return and reply with one of your smart ass comments, "I didn't say get in bed, I said in the Jacuzzi." Kicking off my shoes I say "Well in that case...lead the way!"

*********Sitting across from you I sigh "This feels wonderful." Staring at my breasts bobbing with the bubbles. "I know something that will feel even better." you say with a leer. Reaching for my hand you pull me onto your lap facing you.

Holding onto your shoulders, I watch as you cup my tits, rubbing the nipples and pinching them lightly making them turn into tight peaks. Lifting one to your mouth you suck and nibble making me moan.

As you switch from one nipple to the other you run your hand down between my legs to my pussy. "I like that you shave." "Makes me more sensitive." I gasp as you rub my clit, every couple of seconds sliding your middle finger into my pussy.

I start to squirm on your lap wanting more. "Oh!" I whimper, "John! Harder....ooooh.....faster! Please!" Rubbing my clit you add another finger to my pussy thrusting them in and out faster and harder, making me whimper.

When you feel me start to tense up you move your mouth to my ear, nipping the lobe you whisper "Come on Sara, I want you to cum for me." "John!" I gasp, my nails raking your shoulders as I shiver and give an occasional jerk while I cum.

I wrap my arms around your neck as we kiss leisurely, I relax and feel your arms go around me and hold me tight. I finally push away and grin at you when I notice how hard your cock is against my stomach. "That was fantastic John, but it's your turn now. Come on, sit on the edge, I want to suck your cock."

You sit on the edge watching me kneel on the seat in front of you. "Bossy woman." you growl. I smile up at you as I wrap my hand around your cock and lean forward and lick up the pre-cum on the head. "But you like it don't you?" "Hell yeah!" you gasp.

I slide my tongue around the head then lick down one side and up the other. Using one hand to hold your cock and the other to cup and roll your balls, tugging on them occasionally.

I place the head of your cock in my mouth and suck, taking your dick as deep as I can. Placing one hand on my head, you moan as I start moving up and down on your cock. Sucking strongly on the head then licking and swirling my tongue on the way down. Over and over for about ten minutes.

Pushing lightly on my head; making your cock go deeper each time I go down, you growl at me. "Sara, I'm going to cum!" I moan and suck harder, rubbing my tongue along the underside. I can feel your balls start to tighten in my hand and pull back to the head of your cock.

I suck hard using my hand to jerk you off as you cum. Gripping the edge of the jacuzzi; you groan, shudder, and jerk as I suck the cum out of your cock; drinking it all down without loosing a drop.

You push me away when you get to sensitive and slide back into the water. "Damn Sara." Grinning, I sit next to you and relax. "Good?" Taking deep breaths you reply "Hell yes. Give me a little while and we'll try something else."

Reaching down through the water I give your cock a gentle squeeze and say with laughter in my voice. "Sounds good to me." 

***** Later from his p.o.v.*****

I had forgot and left the condoms at home so I had to go out and buy more before we could go further. Using the key and pushing the door open I walked in and let the door shut after me when I noticed a buzzing noise and a low moan. "Sara?" I step further into the room so i can see the rest of the room.

I come to an abrupt stop and pop an abrupt boner, or at least it felt that way. "Fuck!" Laying naked on the bed running a small red vibrator over your nipples. You laugh and point to a chair you placed at the end of the bed. "Sit, watch and DON'T MOVE!"

Setting the condoms on the floor beside me I sat down holding tightly to the arms as I watched you trace the vibe down your body to your pussy. Using one hand to open yourself to the vibe and my view, you stroke it over your clit and dip it into your pussy; jerking at the sensations. Gasping, you do it again and again.

I finally look up and notice that your staring straight at me as your doing this. You gasp as your back arches and I look back at your pussy and see that you've slid the vibrator into your wet pussy while rubbing your clit. "Damn! Sara...please!"

Panting and twitching when you hit the right spot you shake your head. "Uh-uh John. Stay there. I'm gong to cum for you. Right...right NOW!" You whimper and your head tilts back as your orgasm rolls through you and your body spasms at each wave. 

Finally you relax and look at me. I'm clenching my teeth, my cock so hard you could see it plainly through my jeans, hell I probably have zipper marks. Getting up from the bed you kneel in front of me.

"Now it's your turn. You ready?" Leaning down I kiss you hard thrusting my tongue into your mouth to taste you then sitting back up I pull my t-shirt up and off. "Fuck yes!" I gasp as you carefully unzip my jeans.

I lift my hips as you pull them down and off along with my socks and shoes. "Going commando I see." I smile down at you, "Yeah, I know you love to suck cock Sara and I wanted to make it easier for you."

Taking my cock in one hand you firmly grip it and pump up and down in a steady rhythm, seeing the pre-cum ooze out you lean in and lick it off.

I moan and my hips jerk up. Between the show and this, I feel like I'm gonna blow. "Sara I'm going to cum!" You shake your head "Not right now your not." and hold my dick tightly at the base to stop me from cumming.

"Fuck!" I gasp, feeling my orgasm subside. "You're going to kill me Sara." Taking my dick in your mouth you start to swirl your tongue around the head, occasionally giving it a hard suck. You lean back and smile up at me "I think you'll be just fine."

I run a hand through your hair and grip it to force your head back down on my cock, steadily pushing more and more in until you start to gag (I said I would make you gag), I let you come up for air then push you back down until I can't take anymore.

Pulling you to your feet I spin you around and push you to the end of the bed, using one hand on your neck I push your upper body down so that your bent over with your ass in the air.

After I put a condom on I slide my cock up and down your pussy making you moan and push back at me. Placing the head at the entrance to your hot, wet pussy I slowly push inside, "John...Harder...Please!" you moan. "You mean like this?" and I thrust forward, driving my dick deep making you gasp.

"Oh yes! Just like that!" I start to pull out but pause as your vibrator catches my eye and I grin as I pick it up.

Reaching around with both hands, I start pinching and pulling your nipples with one hand while the other places the vibe on your clit and pushing the button to turn it on. "Oh! Oh! John!"

You writhe under me pushing back trying to get my cock in as deep as you can get it, while whimpering and moaning.

I started driving my cock into you and in minutes your panting and gasping on the edge already. I groan, your pussy so tight, wet, and hot as I shove my dick in as deep as I can get over and over.

My hips and upper thighs meeting your ass and our moans, groans, and gasping the only sounds in the room until I feel you tighten around my dick.

"John, I'm going to cum again!" you gasp out. Steadily fucking you I growl in your ear. "Yes! Cum on my cock baby, because I'm gonna cum too!"

Holding the vibrator to your clit I shove my cock as deep as I can and stop as I feel your pussy convulse around me as you cum with a short scream. I shudder and give a groan as I cum deep inside you.

I continue to thrust into you for a few more seconds before I pull back and smack you on the ass, "C'mon babe, on the bed." "I can't move..." you groan.

I help you onto the bed with a laugh and a kiss. I get rid of the rubber and vibrator and lay down behind you. Wrapping my arms around you, pulling you close as we drift off to sleep.



Face to Face with the Full Moon



Angelina

She spun around expecting to come face to face with someone... anyone! But yet again no one was there. She could swear someone was right behind her. She could feel their eyes on her body. She could feel their hands on her skin. She knew better than to walk through this park after night, especially on a full moon. What the hell was she thinking? It had been one of the worse days in her life and here she was making another bad decision. That eerie feeling just kept crawling across her skin. She just wanted to make it home safely. Heat her up some of her favorite tea, and curl up in bed. "Please God, just let me get home" was the only thought in her mind right now. Then a snap of a branch makes her jump. She spins around yet again and screams from the top of her lungs. "What the hell is that?" was the last thought she could remember!

Joseph

I had her scent. I had always had her scent. It had been in my dreams for the last two years. I could remember the way her hair would fall across her naked breast. How she would smile when I nuzzled her neck. The way she would giggle as I tickled her. The way my tongue felt against her skin. The sound of her voice as I pressed my hairy body against her soft skin was like music. Just thinking about it made my dick so hard I wanted to cry. 

What the hell is wrong with me? Why can't I get her off my mind? I don't even know the damn girl. I just had been dreaming about her for about two years now. I knew her smell, her taste, her voice, and her eyes. How do you dream of someone you never met? I am sure that I have never had met her. I would remember those beautiful brown eyes. They were so dark they were almost black. Every time I thought of her my blood would boil and I could feel myself start to change. My body would start to rock and my senses start to sharp. I would normal pull back but not tonight. The full moon had too much control and I just stood there in the opening of my secluded home and let the change take me over. "Damn this hurt" was my last coherent thought as a man.

I hit the ground running. Knowing every inch of the 25 acres I had surrounding my home. God I love this feeling. The feeling of power just under my skin... well maybe fur would be more accurate. My change had happened about 3 years ago on my 21st birthday. I was just sitting here in my back yard staring at the full moon when I dropped to my knees in pain. I had never felt anything like it. I crawled over to the pond that I had installed a few months back and about passed out at the sight of my face. My mouth pulled tight from pain was starting to transform into a long dog like snout. Looking at my hands I saw golden blonde fur start to stretch across my slightly tanned skin. That was the last thing I remember before I gave my conscience over to the pain and everything went black. When I came to I went to sit up but found myself sitting at a crouch. Looking into the pond an astonishingly huge golden color wolf stared back at me. "Oh my god" was my first thought. Then I felt the urge to run, and run I did. For almost 3 hours that is all I did. I couldn't believe the feeling of freedom, of power, of absolute ecstasy that rolled through my veins. I was hooked like a drug, and I couldn't imagine not having this power in me.

That had been three years ago. And I have learned how to control that power. But I soon realized that along with the power came a need to feed. As horrendous as it sounds, I prefer everything raw. I mean the bloodier the better. I guess it is the animal in me. And tonight I felt the need to feed more than ever. So I took off running, moving almost too fast for human eyes to see. I was halfway through my hunt when I smelt it; that amazing scent from my dreams. I had to be imaging it, didn't I? She didn't exist, but I was drawn in the direction it was coming from. My dick getting harder and harder the closer I got. Oh my god, what the hell is going on? I let out a low growl of pleasure and pain as I feel myself start to feel my throbbing cock want to bury itself in the source of the scent. Could this really be happening? Could my dreams really be coming true?

Then I catch another scent. Now a growl of anger and possessiveness scrapes past my sharp canines. Another wolf had caught her scent and was on the move to claim her either as his meal or as his mate. I couldn't let that happened. I had no real right to her, but she was my dream. I wouldn't let anyone do anything to her. She was MINE! Trying very hard to focus on what I was going to do was very difficult as my body struggled against my mind for control. I would find them in just a few seconds and I had to figure out what I was going to do. They were in the park. I could see him stalking behind her. She keeps turning to see if she is followed. Very smart cookie, my dream girl. A branch snaps causing her to turn again right as the black wolf comes into view teeth bare. I pull my muscles and spring across the air and land hard into his side as he starts to jump at her. She screams, so painfully loud it hurts my ears, but I have to keep her safe. I have to. She was all that mattered now that I found her. I was going to make her love me.

The black wolf senses my strength and leaves with his tail between his legs. I turn to see her. She had passed out in her fear. I pad my way over to her, trying against all hope to keep my body under control. God she is beautiful, more so than in my dreams. I softly brush the hair away from her face with my nose, the scent of it causing my dick to harden yet again tonight. I couldn't help myself as I press my tongue against her neck. I just had to taste her. "Oh my god, bad idea" I think to myself. What the hell am I suppose to do now? I look up and come face to face with the full moon.