sexstories.com

Introduction:

How a mercy fuck ends up giving me a new lease on life

Chapter I: ‘Look at you now.’

I was wading through a mountainous landscape, naked, stricken by terror. Strangely shaped white hills rolled and folded all around me. The ground was soft and fluffy, firm under my feet but denting with every step I took, which made progress difficult and tiring. I kept looking over my shoulder, running from something I could not see but that filled the atmosphere with a nervous electricity that was palpable in the air.

‘Ah, there you are!’

It was more like a slow and low-pitched growl booming in the air around me, as if a recorder was played back at quarter speed. Beyond the farthest hills to my left, an enormous head rose slowly over the horizon. I froze in my steps, mesmerized by the enormity of it. I recognized the features of my mother’s face, younger and happier than I remembered her.

I turned to my right to escape in the opposite direction, but ran straight into the extended palm of a hand tall as a building. It closed slowly around me and picked me up into the air. The wind ruffled my hair as the hand floated towards the face, which became bigger by the second.

‘I told you it’s no use to run.’

The voice boomed again, and I could see her huge lips slowly folding around the words. Two enormous eyes fixed me in their sight. The hand opened and I slid down into the valley of the cupped palm. Out of nowhere, another hand glided down and picked me up between index finger and thumb, crushing every bone in my body.

I was no taller than half a pencil and almost as thin, pinched between these enormous fingers. I was traveling through the air again, floating towards the large mouth. I thought she was going to swallow me, but a huge tongue slid out and lapped me from my feet to the crown of my head, covering me with a sticky film of thick saliva.

‘Oh my, what do we have here?’

The index finger from the other hand rose from below and tapped my erect penis, flicking it around with a circular movement. It moved away again and I was sliding through the slimy tongue again.

‘Oh what a naughty boy you are.’

Laughter reverberated through the air and I was looking straight into the enormous cavern of her mouth, the pearly white teeth even and perfect, the glistening tongue swaying like a sea inside her mouth, the looming depths of her throat behind it.

‘What, do you want to fuck me? Does this naughty little boy want to fuck his mommy?’

I floated down the length of her body, through the valley between her breasts, over the flatlands of her stomach, through the endless forests of her pubis until I was in front of the long cleft of her naked cunt.

I’d caught glimpses of my mother’s vagina on rare occasions when I was a child, but never this close and much less in this proportion. It was simply huge, spanning top to bottom almost twice my own length. A large patch of curly pubic hair loomed ominously above me, dark and dense. Below it, the thick dark flesh of her outer lips shone through the thinning hair, the surface rough and leathery, sloping back and into the crevice between her thighs.

Far below I saw the pillar-like legs part in right angles and I realized my mother was squatting down. The transformation of her vagina before me, all in slow motion, was a mesmerizing spectacle. The cleft slowly widened, the pockmarked skin sticking together and stretching until the outward pull became too great and it parted like the Red Sea before Moses. It was a zipper-like split that started from below and slowly progressed upward. Thick strands of a transparent slime stretched between the parting rims until they snapped and swung down in an elegant motion, not unlike string cheese. Slowly and majestically, like gigantic dinosaurs from the depths of the earth, two thick ridges of heavily furrowed black flesh sagged down and unfolded, dripping with thick globs of the same transparent slime, slowly parting.

I was taken further down between the wide arc of my mother’s spread legs, and came up right underneath the black and pink flower of her open cunt. The sheer size of it was awe-inspiring and I was unable to take it in completely without making use of my peripheral view. Black fleshy flaps, contorting in the strangest shapes, loomed high above me, nestled within vast ridges of dark puffy flesh. They folded upward and into a wide cave with smooth pink walls, shiny with a thick fluid and collapsing at the far end into a wide dark hole rimmed with fleshy pink fingers like an anemone.

It was towards this hole that I was floating. I was taken up between and past the black flaps and slid head first into the gaping abyss. My shoulders brushed the soft slimy walls, which closed in ever tighter around my body as I was pushed upwards.

It was dark and hot inside and I could hardly breathe. There was a thick sweet smell that made me dizzy, and the slime dripping from the walls around me was penetrating my mouth, nose and eyes.

I slid out of the hole into the light again, only to be stuffed back in almost immediately. The second time I came out it was not straight down; instead, I was pulled upwards through the pink flesh to where the black furrowed flaps joined at the top. Pulling my head up in order to breathe, I saw I was sliding towards a big black knob that emerged from an equally dark fold just below where the black ridges joined in a roof-like structure. On my way up, I bumped through a dimple in the pink flesh that smelled of urine and seemed to have a slit-like opening.
I was rubbed through it a couple of times, almost slipped into the slit once, before the ride upwards continued.

I crashed head first into the black knob, which shuddered in its fleshy fold from the impact. I felt it sway under my belly as I was wrapped and swirled around it, my head slipping over the upper rim of her cunt and sliding through the thick bush above it, thick hairs lashing my face and shoulders.

After a while, I was rushed down again and back into the slimy dark tunnel, moving up and down its length, sometimes inserted so deep that I bumped my head against a soft fleshy crown, sometimes circling the outer rim at the entrance with the fleshy anemone fingers slapping my cheeks.

I was dizzy from lack of air when she finally pulled me out. I was rushed upwards again until I was in front of her face again. Her mouth was twisted into a smirk as she contemplated me.

‘Oh you poor thing, all dirty and slimy and your hair is all a mess. Here, let me give you a shower to clean you up.’

And down I went again to face the dripping cunt, only this time I was placed right in front of the dimple that smelled of piss. Nothing happened for a long while, then the little slit in the centre seemed to dilate ever so slightly and a transparent yellow drop of liquid slipped through it, hung there for a brief moment and trickled down. She placed me even closer to the slit and the next drop that appeared engulfed my head before losing its consistence and sliding off my body. Several more drops popped out, ever faster until a thin stream emerged that weakly splashed up and down my body. The liquid tasted very salty and bitter, and I had to time my breathing in order not to get it into my lungs. After a few seconds it lapsed back to sporadic droplets and I relaxed, taking in a deep gulp of air.

Just then, the slit exploded in a massive spray of yellow liquid that splattered with a loud hissing sound against my face, pushing my head back with a snap and whipping it left and right as it spiralled out forcefully.

Fighting the stream of piss that spouted from my mother’s cunt at such close range sapped much of my strength, and I collapsed when it finally let down. I faintly saw my mother looking at my flax and soaked body with a disgusted look on her face before she dropped me. I screamed and swung my arms and legs wildly as I fell, convinced that I was going to die. Then I splashed into the warm water of a large lake, sinking to the very bottom before I could gather the strength to paddle to the surface. I gulped for air as I came up, breathing in acid fumes that smelled and tasted like urine. I swam and looked around. I had landed into a deep metal bowl filled with my mother’s recent discharge. Looking up, I saw that she was still squatting over it. She was looking down at me.

‘You are absolutely useless to me’, boomed the voice. ‘I can’t even get a half decent fuck out of you. Tell me, what are you good for?’

I looked up at her, forlorn and sad, my heart torn with remorse and self-hate for having once again been found lacking.

‘Ah fuck, why do I even ask? You’re a worthless piece of shit. When you were born, you just slipped out of my ass, that’s how you were born. I bet you didn’t know that, huh? Well, I’m telling you. Cause it’s the truth. You’re a freak of nature. A walking turd.’

While the words were still pounding through my brain, my mother’s hand came down into the bowl and I was picked up again. I was rushed down between her legs again until I found myself staring into a furrowed mound of soft brown skin that was nestled between two large and pointy protrusions beyond and below her cunt. I knew enough body geography to realize I was looking at my mother’s gigantic asshole.

She pushed me upwards until my face was crushed into the serrated gash in the centre of the mound where the furrows seemed to dive inwards. The skin was soft and warm there, but there was a penetrating smell that was sweet and nutty. The mound started to move slowly, swelling outward which widened the gash, then collapsing inward which pulled my head in while her hand pushed upwards. Soon her asshole had swallowed my head. I was in a tight tunnel which held my head in a vice with a force that I believed capable of cracking my skull like an egg shell. The asshole kept pumping in and out, sucking me in gradually until it had swallowed me whole.

Inside it was pitch black dark, and hot and damp. The smell in here was even sharper and right out nauseating. It was the smell of stale shit. I was in a cave-like structure, with a soft and slippery floor that curved upward all around me. As my eyes got accustomed to the darkness, I noticed a faint reddish glow that came off the walls.

A sudden swaying motion knocked me off my feet and I landed on my back. My mother’s body around me was moving and I was sliding up and down her rectum. After a while, a vertical force was added to the motion, pressing me into the floor quickly before releasing me into the air, almost floating while bumping into the soft walls around me.

The swaying motion resumed for a short while, then there was a dull but violent thud and I was thrown ass over tit across my smelly confinement, its walls shuddering. When I scrambled to my feet, all was still. Suddenly, a loud rumble made the walls around me tremble. It sounded like air bubbles welling up in a water dispenser. Then the walls started to widen, and I could hear a rasping or scraping sound somewhere above my head. I looked up, but saw nothing.

I heard the rumbling again and this time it coincided with a marked shifting of the walls. The hot air seemed suddenly to thicken and the smell was fouler and more intense than before. I felt I was breathing in a thick gas that irritated my throat. I was coughing. Then the walls collapsed and the gash beneath my feet fluttered noisily as the gas streamed out through it. Another dense cloud of gas bloated the walls of my mother’s rectum, which quickly deflated again.

It was then I realized what was coming, and I panicked. The rasping had become louder and suddenly a huge dark mass came pushing around the bend high above, preceded by a smell of fresh shit. There was no time. The mass plunged down and I barely escaped from being crushed by pressing my back against the wall. It slid down along the length of my body, pulling me down with it until I was lying on my side, my mouth and eyes penetrated by a thick slime that coated the enormous lump of shit.

When it reached the bottom, the turd started to thicken and bloat, no doubt as more shit came piling in on top of it. My complete body became immersed into the sticky mass and I couldn’t breathe at all. Then I felt the floor beneath me slowly give way and the next thing I knew I was sliding out of my mother’s asshole imbedded in a huge turd.

I managed to pull my head from the shit and took in large gulps of air. I was dangling high above a pool of water of what seemed to be the inside of a toilet bowl. Above me, I saw the wide bottom of my mother’s ass, from which the turd I was hanging on to was slowly emerging.

It was a long drop down into the water, and I immediately sank to the bottom of the bowl before the turd slowly floated up. I jerked and twisted to free myself and swam up to the surface. High above I saw a second turd growing between my mother’s ass cheeks, and I swam to the side before it could take me under as it came crashing down, causing a huge splash that sent me sliding up and around the white walls of the bowl. It floated up after a short while and I hung on to it for dear life. Two more turds came crashing down before the waters around me calmed down.

The bowl lit up with a bright light, and I saw my mother’s ass lifting up into the heights above. Her head appeared over the rim of the seat where her ass had been before, her hair hanging down along her face. She was looking down at me and laughing.

‘Look at you now. See? I told you, you’re nothing but a useless piece of shit. And you know what happens to shit in a toilet bowl, don’t you? Can’t have you swimming around here stinking up the place, now can we?’

Her laughter reverberated inside the bowl again. The face disappeared and I saw her hand reach for the flushing handle. She was still looking down at me and laughing. Water started rushing into the bowl with a loud roar and I was pulled into a wild vortex of brown water and lumpy turds bumping into me, pushing me under, swirling around and around ever faster. The last thing I heard was the happy sing-song from my mother:

‘Peter is a tu-urd, a dirty stinking tu-urd.’



Chapter II: ‘You need a fat horny woman to rattle your bones.’

I woke up with a jolt and for a moment I didn’t know where I was. The TV was spitting out a stream of colourful images which I feverishly tried to connect to a memory of myself, but failed. Then it all came back in a rush, and the realization of my reality plunged me once again into a sadness that had become a customary ingredient of my new life.

It was six months since my wife of seven years had left me. The divorce had been nasty and left me on the brink of bankruptcy. We were childless, but losing her had been devastating and I’d not contested any of her outrageous financial demands. She’d kept the house and left me the car she’d crashed in one of her mad bouts. I had moved into this crummy one-bedroom apartment on the far end of town, which was all I could afford. Later I learned she had been fucking her yoga teacher for over a year and moved him into our house the day after the divorce came through. Some yoga class.

The room suddenly became very small and oppressive. I hated this place, with the smell of piss in the stairway and the mouldy walls and the torn curtains. I had to get out, be among people, feel human for a little while before I could face my loneliness again.

The night air was crisp and I tucked my hands deep into my coat as I stepped out. It was close to midnight and the street was deserted. There was a bar down on th that I’d been visiting lately, dark and quiet which fit my mood. It was empty as I stepped in, but Jewel’s ‘Who Will Save Your Soul’ was playing and I decided to stay.

The woman behind the bar looked up from her paperback as I sat down at the far end, but she didn’t move nor speak. Smoke from her cigarette curled around her tired face. She owned the place and usually sat in the back doing paperwork or drinking with some or other of the old regulars who were always trying to get into her panties. But tonight it seemed her regular bartender had his night off.

I’d never spoken to her. She never seemed to notice me, and there was not a lot about her that called my attention. She was in her early fifties, her short curly hair dyed a dull black, her face puffy and embittered by the loss of youth and beauty. She was a tall woman, equally broad all the way from the shoulders down. She was wearing a shiny black dress that stuck tight to the folds of her full body.

‘Yeah?’

She didn’t get up nor put the book down, barely looked at me over the rim of her reading glasses.

‘Pilsener. Please.’

She sighed and slowly slid off the stool she was sitting on, placing the paperback cover up onto the counter behind her and stubbing out her cigarette in an ashtray before lazily reaching for a glass. I thought she’d go back to reading after serving me my beer, but she leaned over on her elbows in front of me and studied my face. I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and she took one, tilting her head while she leaned into the flame of my lighter, touching my hand with hers although there was no need to cup the flame as we were inside. I lit one for myself.

‘Trouble sleeping?’

‘Having a bad day.’

‘Yeah. Well. Life sucks sometimes.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘I see you in here sometimes. You’re always alone. You don’t talk very much, do you?’

‘Nothing much to tell.’

‘That why the wife dumped you?’

I jolted.

‘How would you know so much about me? I haven’t told anyone here.’

She shrugged.

‘You don’t have to. It’s written all over you. She cleaned you out, didn’t she?’

‘Are you psychic?’

‘No. Just observant, that’s all. Twenty five years behind the counter, I read people like a book. You’re easy to read.’

‘How’s that?’

‘You don’t belong here. You’re not here because you want to, but because you have to. Your clothes are too fine for this neighbourhood, but there’s a button missing on your coat and that shirt was not ironed by a woman. Your hands and your fingernails are clean, but you haven’t shaved since Friday. And you’re wearing a wedding ring.’

‘What about the ring?’

‘Men come here, they take off their wedding ring but you can see the indention on the finger. You still love her, don’t you?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘That’s OK. You don’t have to. Do you no fucking good anyway. You need to get laid, that’s what you need.’

I looked up. Her face was very close to mine and I could see the black pores in her white skin. I drew back a little for comfort.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You need a fat horny woman to rattle your bones a bit. A savage wet humping. You’re a fucking zombie every time I see you, whimpering about that bitch wife of yours.’

‘I don’t whimper. And she’s not a bitch.’

I pondered a minute on that and for the first time in months I laughed.

‘OK, maybe she is.’

‘Of course she is. Who she fucking? The plumber? The latino gardener?’

‘Her yoga teacher.’

‘Ha!’

She was silent after that, puffing smoke and checking on her fingernails. She was right, there wasn’t much more to say. My wife – my ex - was a bitch.



Chapter III: ‘Can I stay?’

Suddenly she straightened up, turned off the stereo and walked out from behind the bar.

‘Finish your beer. My place is around the corner.’

She turned the light switches, leaving only the Budweiser sign in the window on. I didn’t move. I hadn’t slept with a woman in over six months and never with a woman ten years my senior and physically less than attractive. Nor was there even the inkling of an emotional bond, something I’d always felt indispensable for any kind of relationship.

‘Listen, I’m not going to beg, if that’s what you’re waiting for.’

‘Can… can I at least know your name?’

‘Susan. Susan Morris. I own this place. And you’re Peter. Jeff told me.’

Jeff was her bartender, working his way through college. We’d talked as I was usually sitting alone at the bar. It struck me as odd that she should have asked him. But then, knowing her clientele was part of her trade.

‘Susan, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship.’

She was putting on her overcoat, buttoning it down as she walked up to me.

‘Now, don’t be such a sissy. I’m not asking your hand in marriage, OK? It’s just sex, won’t hurt a bit, I promise.’

She cackled, throwing her head back, then grabbed me under the arm and pulled me off my chair. She didn’t let go of me as I stumbled behind her until we reached the door. She opened it and pushed me through the doorway out into the cold night, stepping out right behind me and locking the door.

‘Give me a hand with the shutter, it’s a bit rusty.’

I reached up and pulled down the iron curtain. It came crashing down with a loud rattle and a bang that echoed through the empty streets. Susan handed me two padlocks and I secured it.

She leaned into me as we walked around the corner, arms entwined. It felt weird to be holding a woman this close again after so long, pacing in with her step so we wouldn’t be bumping shoulders and hips. In her high heel pumps, she was taller than me and for a moment a childhood memory of my mother dragging me along flashed through my mind.

The building where she lived was one of the nicer ones in the neighbourhood. It had an old brick and granite front, with wrought iron railings along the front steps. It had an ample lobby with an elegant foyer and an antique elevator. Susan had the penthouse, which we reached after a bumpy ride up.

She took me straight into the bedroom, not turning on any lights. Red light from a neon sign shone in through the open curtains. She dropped her coat on the floor and unbuttoned mine, dropping it on top of hers. Already her hands were on my belt and by the time I had unbuttoned my shirt, my pants and boxers were crumpled around my feet. Very much to my own surprise, a thick erection was sticking out through the open front of my shirt. Susan cupped it gently from below, and it started jumping up and down like a dog happy to see its master.

‘See? Was that so hard now? I knew you’d like me.’

She pulled my shirt down, then turned her back to me.

‘Unzip me. Hurry up or I’ll cum in my panties.’

She was wearing a black bra and black laced panties under her dress. Her back was wide and very white. I unhooked her bra and she dropped her panties, stepping out of them as she turned around to face me.

She hadn’t taken off her pumps and it was a weird feeling to have to look up at her. She smiled at me and pulled my hands towards her, placing them on her hips. My gaze wandered over her large long breasts which hung loosely over her thick belly, the large brown nipples facing down.

Susan pushed me backwards onto the bed and mounted me, crawling upwards on all fours, her breasts sliding alongside my body until my face was buried inside them. I felt her hand on my dick, pushing it back into an upright position so she could lower herself down onto it. There was a soft squishy sound as I felt it slide into a thick warm moistness, just before she crushed my hips with the weight of her heavy ass. Her breasts rolled off my face as she straightened up. She smiled as she towered above me. I reached out for her, tried to sit up to kiss her, to feel her close, skin on skin, to swim in her breasts again, but she kept me pinned down with her ass.

She started to grind her hips up and down, slowly at first, then with quick little jerks that made me squirm with pleasure. She soon dropped forward onto her hands again, her breasts shuddering and swinging wildly, bumping into and rolling over my chest as she humped my lap with spasm-like thrusts of her hips. Her eyes were closed and drops of sweat were rolling from her arms and chest. She was breathing heavily and grunting like an animal.

My balls exploded just as she let out a bone-splitting roar. Her fingernails dug painfully into my shoulders as she thrust her hips into me, her body shuddering like a huge pile of jelly. I felt my life force drain out of me, into her, as she collapsed on top of me with a loud sigh as if she was deflating. I could hardly breathe with her weight full on my stomach and chest, my face buried deep inside her flesh, her sweat salty on my lips and tongue, stinging my eyes. But I didn’t care. Something had snapped inside me. Something had come loose and an overwhelming feeling of sadness welled up inside my chest, pushing up into my throat. I had to summon all my strength to suppress a sudden urge to cry.

Susan eventually rolled off me, and I suddenly felt very cold and alone. I rolled onto my side and looked at her, but she got up quickly and disappeared through a side door which gave into a bathroom. Her massive buttocks shuddered in the red light streaming in through the window, rendering the trembling flesh a softness and warmth that augmented my longing for her. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

When she came back out, she was wearing a cotton nightgown. She bent down over me and kissed me quickly on the mouth, then disappeared into the kitchen. She came back with two lit cigarettes, handing me one. The soft bass line from Joni Mitchell’s ‘Hejira’ floated in from the living room. She sat on the edge of the bed with her back turned towards me. I got up to fetch an ashtray from the window sill and sat beside her. We smoked in silence.

‘OK, you have to go now. I need to get my beauty sleep.’

I drew from my cigarette and hunched forward. Her distant and cold attitude towards me hurt me somewhere deep inside. I wanted to hold her, be held by her, but she was turning me away. I lowered my elbows onto my knees and slumped forward, resting my head in my hands.

‘Susan?’

‘What?’

‘Can I stay?’

‘What for?’

‘I don’t know. I… just let me lay beside you, yes?’

‘Are you going to propose to me?’

She giggled. I straightened up, annoyed that she was making fun of me in such an emotional moment. But her eyes were warm and she was smiling as she looked at me.

‘No. I… I don’t want to be alone.’

‘You don’t have to do that, you know.’

‘What?’

‘Feeling guilty. It was just sex. It was what it was meant to be.’

‘It was more to me.’

‘Stop that. It was a mercy fuck. Don’t make it into something it wasn’t.’

‘No, you’re wrong, that’s not why I came with you. I…’

‘I didn’t mean you. I. I mercy-fucked you.’

I had to digest that for a while. I’d never seen myself in need of a mercy fuck. But she was right, I was the needy one. Not of a fuck. It had been good and explosive, but it had also unhinged something in me, a need. A need for belonging, a need for being loved.

‘Do you think you could maybe, uhm, mercy-hug me?’

Her head turned and she shot a bewildered look at me. She laughed out loud.

‘I didn’t know you could be so funny. You’re always so sad when I see you.’

But she pivoted towards me and pulled me into her chest. I already loved being there.

‘OK, you can stay. Consider it a privilege. I haven’t let a man sleep over in a long time. And you have to make me breakfast in the morning.’

I took a shower and brushed my teeth with my index finger, taking from her toothpaste. When I stepped back into the room, she was already asleep, snoring lightly. I slipped in under the sheets beside her, still naked.



Chapter IV: ‘Breathe! Breathe!’

She was still asleep when I woke up. It was a beautiful and crisp Sunday morning, the sun already high in a cloudless sky. Children were playing down in the street, and cars and trucks were rumbling on the thoroughfare beyond the rail tracks.

I kissed her forehead and sat on the bed beside her. For the first time in six months, the heavy cloud of sadness had lifted and I felt light-hearted, almost happy. Was I falling in love? I couldn’t be. I looked at her, sleeping like a baby, murmuring in her sleep. She looked old. The roots of her dyed hair were grey on the crown of her head, and she had fine wrinkles around her puffy eyes. But somehow I found that endearing. I wanted to hug her, rouse her from her sleep and make mad love to her again.

I slipped into my boxers and walked into the kitchen. I whipped some eggs into two omelettes, adding cheese and onion and tomato, and brewed fresh coffee. I found some bread to toast and spread the butter on it while it was still warm. When I took it all into the bedroom on a tray, Susan was sitting up in bed, smoking her first cigarette of the day.

‘You’re out of orange juice but I didn’t want to risk going out to buy some. I was afraid you wouldn’t let me back in.’

She pulled me in for a smoky kiss on the lips.

‘You’re too sweet.’

We ate and talked. Mostly about the nightlife, about people at the bar and who fucked who and how. After I cleaned up, we lay on the bed and smoked. She stepped into the bathroom, leaving the door open. I heard the sharp hissing women make when they pee, and the roar of the splashing stream inside the toilet bowl. It seemed to go on forever, finally ending in a series of quick squirts. I didn’t hear her wipe, she didn’t flush and came back into the room without washing her hands.

‘Peter?’

‘Yes?’

‘Do I look old?’

‘Not really. A little bitter around the mouth. Life does that.’

‘It hasn’t been easy.’

‘It never is.’

‘I’m fifty two. That is old.’

‘No it isn’t.’

She sat up and looked me in the eyes as if scrutinizing my thoughts. Then she stood up onto the bed, pulled her nightgown off over her head and kneeled beside me.

‘Look at me. Look at my body and tell me if I’m not old.’

I looked at her. Her skin was a porcelain white, even and soft. Her breasts were larger than I remembered from last night, thin wrinkles at the top where the weight stretched the skin, widening and flattening out further down as they rested on her belly. Thin bluish veins criss-crossed the white skin. Her arms were thick, but nicely shaped. Her belly was wide and round and folded over her thighs, hiding her crotch.

‘I like your body. Your skin is so pure and soft. And I have never seen such beautiful breasts.’

‘You like my breasts?’

She stroked them, pushing them together and releasing them so they shuddered.

‘I love your breasts.’

She cupped her left breast in her hand and leaned over me, then dropped it. It splashed onto my face and my mouth searched almost instinctively for her nipple, found it and sucked it in. She let me suckle her breast while she rubbed the other.

‘Do you know why I let you stay over?’

I shook my head. My mouth was full with the softness of her brown nipple.

‘I dream of having my cunt licked in the morning.’

I was hard immediately and she knew it, because she giggled.

‘Will you lick my little snatch for me?’

Susan didn’t wait for an answer. She lay down on her back beside me, spread her legs and pushed my head down over her belly towards her crotch. I slid downwards and heaved my rump over her bent knee, landing between her heavy thighs with my face inches from her hairy bush. It was the first time I saw her down there and I was awed in more than one way.

Susan’s bush was grey. Not completely, predominantly black but a large percentage of the hair had turned a silvery grey. It gave her vagina a regal appearance, majestic in its opulence, solemn in its sternness. It started with a thick patch of coarse hair standing tall on the bloated cushion of her mons, curly and unkempt. Thick tufts of coarse hair lined and covered the slit of her vagina, shiny yellowish beads of fresh urine trapped inside and along the edge of her outer lips which were chunky and erratic, the heavily furrowed dark brown inner lips barely visible under the curly hair. Further down, the hair grew thinner and shorter, leaving the lower part of her vagina almost bare with only a few sparse hairs sprouting left and right.

Her hands came down and spread her cunt lips apart. A wide red cave opened before my eyes, thick blobs of flesh circling the gaping black hole of her vulva, crowned by the hefty brown folds of her inner lips which glistened with a thick clear slime and more droplets of urine. Atop it all, the pink knob of her clitoris popped out of its fold and stood proudly erect. I breathed her heavy aroma of female sex and fresh piss.

‘Don’t make me wait.’

I suddenly wasn’t so convinced I was willing to expose my mouth and tongue to an unwashed cunt now that I had factual confirmation that she had not wiped after her recent piss. My wife had always been meticulously clean, especially the few times she had reluctantly allowed me to lick her pussy, excusing herself into the bathroom for an extended soaping and rinsing before she’d let me near.

On the other hand, there was something strangely exciting about the concept of an unwashed cunt. It was somehow freeing and the mere boldness and carelessness with which she thrust it upon me imbued me with a sense of being desired, being singled out by a higher power, taken inside a most intimate and powerful aspect of her being that I hadn’t sensed until now.

Before I had time to finish my thoughts and make up my mind, I felt her hand on the back of my head and was pulled hard into her cunt. She was hot and slimy on my lips, the flesh seemingly melting against my face. There was a sharp taste of urine, salty and slightly bitter, but it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought, in fact I kind of liked it. I wasn’t sure if she was aware of the fragrant state of her cunt, but imagining that she was and that she was purposefully impregnating me with it sent a wave of crude and intense arousal through my entire body.

My nose slipped straight into her gaping vulva and my eyes were caked shut by the heavy slimes that had built up inside her vagina. I could feel her clit like a finger probing my brow. Her hips gyrated downwards and it slid into my left eye socket, pressing my eyelid and the eyeball beneath it. Her vulva was on my mouth and I French-kissed it, sliding my tongue in as deep as I could and swirling it around inside, exploring its endless depths. She pushed her pelvis further down and my tongue slipped out of her, slapping against her stiff clit which sent a tremor through her hips. I sucked it inside my mouth and circled it with my tongue.

She quivered while she kept herself in position, then she released her pelvis and her cunt slid upwards over the entire length of my factions, her clit bumping into my nose, dipping into my right eye socket and rolling over my brow again. While she humped my face in a steady rhythm, ever increasing the pressure on the back of my head, I flicked my tongue through the rapid succession of the crevices and ridges of the inside of her cunt as they paraded over it.

Soon, her breathing became laborious and noisy, grunting at the top of every stroke until she finally froze in a cramped and quivering spasm, tightening her thick and hard thighs around my ears, pumping the hot juices of her climax into my mouth and wailing like an animal in hurt. I lapped furiously at the fleshy folds within my reach until she finally collapsed, releasing my head from its powerful vice.

My dick was painfully stiff and pulsating with excitement. I hadn’t climaxed, too absorbed in satisfying her sudden urge, and I didn’t dare to touch myself now because I knew I would burst and make a mess. My neck hurt and I rested my head on the inside of Susan’s right thigh, looking at her wide open and bright red cunt, still overflowing with her clear and thin juices. I liked being at such close proximity to it. There was something eerily beautiful and mysterious about it.

As a child I’d had fantasies of living in a cunt. My mother’s cunt. I suddenly remembered the dream I’d had yesterday. It was a recurrent dream I’d had ever since the divorce. I felt sadness taking a hold of me again.

Susan was plucking and pulling at my ear, still nervous with the energy released during her climax.

A sudden irritation at the back of my throat made me cough. I sat up and swallowed hard several times in a row in an attempt to dislodge whatever was causing it.

‘You OK?’

‘It’s nothing. Probably swallowed a hair or something. It’s gone now.’

‘I’m sorry. I used to shave, you know, but I gave it up. It would prickle me and gave me an allergic reaction of sorts. That’s why it’s so long and dense now.’

‘I don’t mind. It’s natural. I like it.’

Susan was quiet for a while, contemplating her fingernails. Suddenly, she pulled up her left leg bent at the knee and a long fart sputtered lazily from her ass. I was perplexed and for a while I didn’t know what to do. The air filled with the foul fumes of her fart, but I didn’t dare budge. I wasn’t quite sure what to think of it. Never before had I heard a woman fart in my presence. I’d smelled plenty, in elevators and board rooms. I had always wondered how I knew to ignore such occurrences with absolute stoicism lest offending the woman present, if such matters to my best recollection had never been discussed with me.

Susan lowered her leg and sighed.

‘There’s natural for you.’

No use to pretend I’d ignored it now, if she was flaunting it. I searched her face for a clue as to a motive, but there was none. She was oblivious to my bewilderment, wiping fluff from the bed linen off her breast. She had farted. So what? But I had to say something, be it only to relieve my own tension.

‘Quite a myth-buster.’

‘What myth?’

‘Women don’t fart.’

‘Oh but we do. All the time. Most of us just don’t like getting caught at it, that’s all.’

‘You sure got busted, though.’

‘I wasn’t exactly trying to sneak one in on the sly. I got gas up my ass, I fart. Silly to hold it in if it’s going to come out anyway. So I’m no fairy tale princess. Who cares?’

Indeed, who cared? If she didn’t, why should I? Fuck tight-assed women and their hypocrisy. Susan a-farting was more woman then they would ever be.

‘I don’t mind. I’ve always thought women’s fart phobia suspect. It’s a perfectly natural body function, like so many others. Nothing to it.’

‘You liked it, huh?’

‘What?’

‘My fart.’

I froze. Where was she going with this? My wife had called me a dirty pig after tricking me into admitting I liked the smell of her vagina.

‘I wouldn’t go as far as stating I liked it. With all due respect, there is a certain odoriferous aspect to gassy discharge that was not designed to please the finer palate.’

‘You’re so full of shit.’

Here I was going out of my way to be generous about the whole affair, and what did I get for it? Insult.

‘W-what do you mean?’

‘This one says you liked it.’

She was pointing down at my dick, which was still standing out straight from my lap. Yes, there was something extremely arousing about a woman farting. I’d never acknowledged that for myself, but I couldn’t ignore my state of excitement just talking about it. Something in me wondered where she was going with this.

I looked at Susan. There was no sign of mockery on her face. There was a shine in her eyes that I couldn’t quite place.

‘I don’t know. I couldn’t say. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.’

‘I could… Would you like to find out?’

Her hand was on my shoulder now. I felt confused. There was my pride, which did not allow admitting to certain tastes not even in the privacy of my mind. I struggled with myself. It was not the smell that attracted me, I was quite nauseated by it. And there was the humiliating aspect of the prospect to consider. A man had his pride.

Yet I found the proposition sexually arousing. It unearthed a sense of propriety, of being imposed upon, as with the unwiped cunt. I couldn’t quite explain it, but somehow in my mind I associated it with being wanted, being pulled in as opposed to being rejected. I couldn’t help thinking about my mother, in whose eyes I’d never been good enough.

‘I-I don’t know. You tell me.’

‘I think you would. Like to find out.’

There was a triumphant air about her as she pushed me slowly down on my back and encountered no resistance. I felt quite nervous, but cooperated by pulling my legs up onto the bed and adjusting my body until it was aligned along the length of the bed, my feet towards the head board. Susan kept talking as she came around the bed and stood behind me.
‘You know, I’ve always wanted to do this. Every time I fart, I imagine there’s a man down there. With his face, you know.’

She leaned over on her hands, and crawled onto the bed. Her face appeared above mine, in reverse. She looked down at me, smiling confidently.

‘Like, you know, prrrrt straight into his mouth.’

She laughed. Had she not been so comfortable and confident about it, I would’ve made a run for it. What kept me in place, very much at the core of my sexual arousal, was the sense that I was pleasing her. I had never managed to please any of the women in my life.

‘I don’t know why. It gives me a sense of power, I guess.’

She crawled on towards the head board, her hands each on one side of my body. Her breasts brushed over my face and chest and she kept talking.

‘I only hope you’re getting something out of it too. Besides a smelly fart, I mean.’

Susan’s belly shook with laughter as it slid over my face. Her knees moved past my head and then I had her huge ass above me. Looking at her from this position, I could see what she’d said about the sense of power. Even more strongly and clearly than before, I could feel sheer power emanating from her every pore and pressing down on my body. I could feel her heart beating inside my chest, pumping her blood through my veins.

Her ass cheeks above me were broad and round, the skin white and amazingly smooth. They were so vast that they remained pressed together even as she was leaning forward. Between them, where they joined the thick legs, her grey hairy cunt was squeezed outward, the outer lips bloating and in turn squeezing out the thick and dark inner flaps, glistening and dripping with a renewed flow of transparent cunt slime that came slowly stringing down in long strands.

‘Don’t be afraid, it’ll be fun, you’ll see.’

Susan pushed herself up onto her feet, squatting her broad ass directly onto my face. I could see it come down on me, slightly spreading as the flesh was stretched outward, not really opening her up as would have been the case with a thinner woman, but enough to wedge my face into the cleft that formed between them. I felt the tip of my nose poking the soft skin of her ass hole. Then her hand was on my forehead, keeping my head steady as she shifted her ass forward until my chin sunk in the slimy softness of her cunt and her anus was directly above my mouth. Once convinced she had everything lined up as she wanted it, she dropped her full weight onto my face.

I felt my nose crush against her tail bone and my chin dipped even deeper into her cunt. My face disappeared completely inside her ass and I was unable to breathe. My head felt like it was about to pop like an overripe watermelon, pinned between the mattress and her bottom. She sat there without moving for what seemed a lifetime. The oxygen in my lungs was running out and I raised my hands to push her off me, but she grabbed my wrists and held my arms to her body.

Just when I thought I was about to faint, she lifted her ass a fraction of an inch, just enough to allow a thin stream of air to flow in through her ass crack. I opened my mouth and expulsed the air from my lungs. Just as I started to gulp in fresh air, her asshole exploded on my lips and my lungs filled with the foul gas of a roaring fart.

‘Breathe! Breathe!’

She had shifted her ass backwards and was looking down at my face, laughing in spurts. Her body shook as she laughed and farts where prattling gaily onto my forehead and brow. She quickly shifted her ass back into position and pushed three more long and loud farts into my gasping mouth. I was overwhelmed by the stink and had a bitter taste in my mouth. She shifted again to look at me and allow me time to breathe real air.

‘You doing OK down there?’

She was still laughing. I nodded bravely, which sent her into a fit of laughter.

‘Stick your tongue in. Your tongue. Inside. I want to feel your tongue as I fart.’

Her ass was again in my face and I stuck out my tongue. I probed the soft dimple of her asshole and pressed against the thin slit, which promptly gave way and seemed to suck in the tip if my tongue. No sooner was I inside her, I felt her asshole widen and flutter against my lips while a soft wind rolled over the base of my tongue into my mouth almost silently, with just the slightest notion of a puffing hiss.

My tongue slipped out of her asshole as she leaned forward, dropping on her knees, without withdrawing her ass from its position over my mouth. I felt her hand on my dick and my body convulsed violently in the most intense orgasm I had ever had. Her cunt shifted upwards onto my face and she was rocking her hips ferociously to and fro. All the while her asshole was pumping in and out furiously as she puffed several more farts into me, some in my eyes, some into my mouth while she rode herself to her second climax this morning, even more explosive than the first. In fact, it may have been several as the farting spasm seemed never to end.



Chapter V: ‘We could just talk.’

We showered together. I soaped her breasts and her back and her ass, rinsing her flax and spent vagina and licking it to a lazy half-climax while the water splattered on my head and back.

I made the bed and washed the dishes before she emerged from the bathroom all dressed and made up. She pecked a kiss on my lips, careful not to undo her lipstick.

‘Now you really have to go. I’m late for mass as it is.’

She didn’t strike me as a religious person, but she was wearing a church-going dress unlike the one she wore yesterday.

‘Be a doll and call me a cab, will you? The number is by the phone. Tell them it’s for Miss Susan, they’ll know.’

I did as I was told. She locked after us and we went down the elevator together.

‘Will I see you tonight?’

‘You want more of my farts?’

I felt the blood rush to my face. She saw it and laughed.

‘We could just talk.’

‘Talk? Sounds boring.’

‘Or whatever.’

‘Whatever, huh? I could settle for whatever. But no. I’ve got things to do. Look me up at the bar one of these days.’

She pecked me again in the lobby and was out the front door without looking back. Through the tainted glass, I saw the driver holding open the door of the limo for her and drive off. When I stepped out, they had already turned the corner.

I walked the few blocks to my apartment, stopping by the grocery store. The air was cool but the sun was still out. My feelings were torn between joy, confusion and my usual sadness.

Back in my apartment, I slumped into my armchair but didn’t turn on the television set. I pondered on what had happened last night and this morning. I could not ban Susan from my mind. Her tired face, her soft body with the sagging breasts, the broad behind, the grey pubic bush, the messy vagina. How had this happened? She was not the kind of woman I would ever have noticed, much less thought of in a sexual way. Much less fallen in love with. And yet I knew I had. Somewhere between our first cigarette together at the bar and the quickie – her quickie – in the shower, I had lost my soul in the lush folds of her body.

Or was it more than her body? I remembered the feeling of helplessness, of being unable – unwilling? – to escape from the thralls of her dominion. For dominion it had been, utter and complete domination. She had not dragged me at gun point into her apartment and into her bed. She had not tied me down or raped me in my sleep. She had not forced me into her unwashed vagina. Why, I had even allowed her to fart into my mouth. Not bad for someone who only yesterday had been a complete stranger.

I changed and left the apartment to take the subway to the office. It was deserted, as it would be on a Sunday, and that fitted me well. I worked on some backlog until late, trying to forget Susan and my need of her.



Chapter VI: ‘Are you truly sorry, or did you just say that?’

I was back at the bar on Monday night, barely home from work and after a quick shower, but Susan wasn’t there. I asked Jeff and he said she’d gone out and didn’t expect her back for the night. I went home sad, had a microwave dinner and watched the football game.

On Tuesday night, she was at her customary table, fidgeting with order forms and invoices. She didn’t seem to notice me when I stepped into the bar and I decided not to disturb her but to wait until she finished. I had a beer at the counter and talked about last night’s game with one of the regulars, constantly looking back to Susan who kept being busy without noticing me. A few times I was on the verge of stepping over to her table but decided against it, because of her cold goodbye and the things she had said about the mercy fuck.

Once she came up to the bar to ask Jeff about some missing invoices, standing only a few feet away from me, but she didn’t seem to notice me or pretended not to. I paid and left shortly after that. Back at the apartment, I took out my Playboys and tried to jerk off, but found that I couldn’t even get it up. Susan kept popping up in my mind and I almost cried.

I abstained from visiting the bar on Wednesday and Thursday, but Friday night I had a panic attack in my lonely apartment and I decided to give it another try. Susan was behind the counter talking to a couple, while Jeff was pouring drinks. I sat at the far end of the bar and waved at Susan when she looked my way, but it was Jeff who approached to take my order.

I stayed for about an hour, watching a poker game on the wide screen about the bar and talking on and off with some old guy who was drowning his sorrows in one too many beers. Susan never came to sit with me although I caught her looking my way a few times. I smiled sheepishly once, hoping for a reaction or at least an acknowledgement, but she just turned back to the conversation she was in as if I hadn’t been there. Eventually, I placed a twenty under my glass, signalled to Jeff and walked out.

I had given up all hope, so hearing Susan’s voice calling my name as I was about to step out into the cold and lonely night came totally unexpected. It caused my heart to miss a beat and my body filled with butterflies. I turned to look at her, and she was waving me close. When I approached the bar, she took me aside and slid a set of keys across the counter.

‘Wait for me at the penthouse. I’ll be up short after midnight.’

I looked into her eyes for a sign of emotion, but there was none.

‘Oh, and Peter?’

‘Yes?’

She was doing something with her hand beneath the counter. When it came up, she was holding an olive between two fingers, coated with a slimy substance of sorts that glistened in the dim light.

‘Here, have one for the road. Keep you awake until I arrive.’

I tried to take it from her but she insisted on placing it inside my mouth, inserting her fingers with the olive to make me suck them. Before I bit the olive, I recognized the taste of her sex. She smiled and winked at me, then turned away.

I could have sung with joy. Gone was the bitterness over her ignoring me, gone was the pain of abandonment. She wanted me!

I hadn’t been eating well the last few days, but now I felt I could devour a horse. I had a steak and fries at a restaurant near the train station and paid for a steak-’n’-shrimp dish to be delivered to Susan at the bar. Then I went to her apartment and let myself in with the keys she had given me.

It was cold inside so I turned up the heat. I decided I might as well make myself useful while I was waiting for her. I did the dishes, cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom, washed and dried two loads of laundry, vacuumed the living room and made up the bed. I was immersed in Fay Weldon’s ‘The Life and Works of a She-Devil’ that I found on Susan’s night table when the buzzer rang. It was eleven thirty.

Susan’s face was on the little screen on the intercom by the door, so I pressed the button to release the lock on the entrance door. It was only then that it struck me what faith she’d had in me to hand me the keys to her place. I stepped outside to meet her at the elevator.

Susan stepped out of the elevator, shivering slightly. She hardly took notice of me until we were inside. I took her coat from her.

‘Ah, great, you turned up the heat. I’m so sick of coming in to a cold apartment.’

No kiss, no hug. She went into the kitchen and micro-waved a cup of mint tea. I kicked myself for not thinking of that.

‘Thanks for dinner, that was a nice thought.’

She patted my cheek as she walked past me into the bedroom.

‘I forgot to tell you there’s beer and juice in the fridge if you wanted to, and I believe there’s some leftover spaghetti too.’

‘No that’s fine, I ate before I came here.’

‘Did you make yourself a cup of coffee at least?’

‘I’m not into coffee. But thanks, I’m fine.’

Susan sat down on the bed and lit a cigarette.

‘I came early. I just couldn’t wait. Friday night is always busy and sometimes it goes on until well into the wee hours. But Jeff can handle it.’

She looked me up and down as I was standing in the doorway.

‘Well come on, don’t keep me waiting. Take your clothes off and get your ass over here.’

I didn’t budge. Susan drew from her cigarette and spat out the smoke impatiently.

‘What?’

I could understand her confusion, and maybe her impatience. I had been looking for her all week, I had come to the apartment when she’d asked me to, or rather told me to, so why did I hesitate now? I wasn’t sure if I had an answer to that question myself. It was just that there was something cold about her, about the way she treated me, and I didn’t like it. I wanted closeness, not just sex.

‘I… Maybe we should just talk.’

‘Talk. Yeah, I remember you mentioned something about that the other day. Listen, I didn’t rush over here to talk. You could have told me that before you took the keys, I would’ve found someone else to fuck.’

That hurt, but I let it pass.

‘I’m sorry. It’s just…’

‘Yeah yeah, save it. OK, here’s the deal. Or you get your naked ass between the sheets this instant and we fuck, or you get the hell out of here. How’s that sound to you?’

There it was again, only more forceful now, and my dick responded to it by jumping up and down in my pants. Imposing was the word I’d been looking for. Enforcing her will, taking it almost for granted that I would go along with anything she wanted or decided. I liked that quality about her, in a sexual way. But it also hurt my pride. It was humiliating, but more than that, it was cold. And I wasn’t going to stand for coldness tonight.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. Somewhere deep inside I knew it attracted me. Rejection and humiliation triggered a sexual reaction in me. But I couldn’t, not tonight. It would be empty. It would only bring the sadness back, and I’d had enough of that.

‘Right. OK, I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll let myself out.’

I carefully placed the keys onto the bed and moved to the door. I never heard her come after me, but as I opened it, she shoved it shut with a bang.

‘Damn, do you have to be such a hard-head? Is it so difficult for you to please me when I ask something of you?’

She was raging, puffing at her cigarette in a futile attempt to calm down.

‘Do you know how many bozos I have to listen to every night? All they ever do is talk. Not one who says, hey Suze, how about I took you out for a change, let’s go see a movie and we’ll have dinner at your favourite restaurant, and then we can go to your place and fuck until the sun comes up. But no, all they’re interested in is talking about their crummy wives and their crummy kids and their crummy jobs. Talk talk talk, bla bla bla. All talk, no action.’

She was spitting fire now, walking up and down, gesticulating madly with her arms.

‘And here you come along and I think, maybe this guy is different, he doesn’t want to talk, he just goes along with everything I do and is happy to do it, no questions asked. But no, now you have to come up here and spoil it all because you want to talk. How about what I want?’

She disappeared into the bedroom and came back with an unlit cigarette between her lips, looking around for a lighter. I pulled out my own and held out the flame for her, but she snapped it from my hands, lit her cigarette herself and pocketed my lighter. I felt guilty for having triggered her outburst.

‘I-I’m sorry for what I said, Susan. I had no idea. You’re right, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Let’s do whatever you want.’

‘Sorry won’t cut it. You’ve gotten me all worked up.’

‘I… How can I make it up? I told you I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. We could…’

She didn’t let me finish. She grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me into the bedroom.

‘Drop your pants and stand against the wall, facing it. Your arms up, palms against the wall.’

I was dumbfounded, but I did as I was told. I wondered what she had in mind, feeling a bit apprehensive. It came to me that I didn’t know her very well.

I heard the sound of a drawer being opened behind me. I turned my head and saw Susan pulling a long thin bamboo stick from her chest of drawers. It whizzed as she whipped it left and right into the air.

‘If I hear the slightest sound from you, you’re out of here. If you as much as move a toe, your ass is out the door and you’ll never see me again. Capice?’

I nodded and gulped down the lump in my throat. She couldn’t possibly intend to spank me?

Susan walked up behind me. On the wall above me, I saw the shadow of her arm with the cane in her hand go up, there was a short swishing sound and my body jolted with a sharp pain right across my buttocks. I squirmed. Susan popped her head around my shoulder.

‘Do we have a problem?’

Think. I needed time to think. I couldn’t think straight as I was used to.

‘N-no.’

‘Good.’

A series of four more lashes set my ass on fire. I bit my lower lip to keep from screaming.

‘That’s for defying me. In my own house, of all places.’

Whatever it was she was doing, she was serious about it. Every lash cut deep into my flesh and stung like hell.

‘You will never ever again defy me. Say it!’

‘I won’t.’

Three more lashes.

‘I said, say it!’

This was turning ridiculous. I’d said I was sorry. I was very much willing to make up for upsetting her, and if that meant going through the mimics of her little mother-punishing-naughty-boy spiel, so be it. I’d heard about spanking games, not my deal but who was I to judge? But if this was a game, why was it hurting so much? And on top of that, she was treating me like a child. I did not have to stand for that. I lowered my arms and moved to pull up my trousers, but she shoved me right back into the wall, keeping me pinned there with her hand on my back.

‘Did I tell you that you could go?’

‘Susan, listen…’

‘No, you listen. Are you truly sorry, or did you just say that?’

‘I am sorry. But…’

‘No but. Take it like a man. Or are you a sissy?’

I had no choice. I wasn’t a sissy. Susan got back at me for the interruption with a long series of burning lashes that criss-crossed my butt in every direction. She was out of breath when she finally stopped.

‘Now say it!’

‘I-I will never defy you again.’

‘You will never ever again say no to me. Say it!’

‘I will never ever again say no to you.’

‘You will not question my orders. You will do as you’re told, no matter what. My wish is your command.’

I repeated it word for word. I got five more lashes to boot, then she stepped back. I slowly turned around, unsure of what was to follow, whether to pull up my trousers or get further undressed, or what? I wasn’t even sure of how I felt or what I wanted to do, whether I was mad at her or sad, whether I still loved her or just wanted to storm out of here never to see her again. I did notice the pounding hard-on whipping up and down through my shirt, however. And so did Susan, because her eyes lowered to my crotch before she looked me in the eye again. I could swear I’d seen a faint smile flash across her lips, but her eyes were still full of rage, be it a little assuaged.

‘OK. Now you can tell me you’re sorry. Get down on your knees and kiss my ass, and then you tell me how sorry you are.’

I probably wouldn’t have done it, had she not turned around and pulled up her dress. She was wearing black knickers of a transparent fabric that revealed the dark crack of her ass, and a shiny satin crotch pad. I couldn’t walk with my trousers and boxers wrapped around my ankles, so I went down on my knees and shuffled towards her. As I did, she bent forward and stuck her ass out at me.

I kissed her right on the crack, a few inches above the crotch pad.

‘I’m sorry I upset you, Susan. I won’t do it again.’

‘You betcha you won’t. Keep your lips glued to my ass, I’m not through with you. A little lower. Lower. There. Open your mouth and keep your lips latched on to my ass. Here comes penitence.’

I had to strain my neck backwards to keep my lips where she had wanted them, on the lower part of her ass where it curved inwards, right on the crotch pad. For a while nothing happened, but I could feel her body tighten above me.

Suddenly a loud fart ripped from her ass right under my nose, bloating the crotch pad into my mouth. The smell was nauseating, but I didn’t dare move. Or didn’t want to. As disgusting as this was, it was an important part of why I had come back to her. Not the farting, which was gross, much less the smell which was awful, nor the act in itself which was denigrating. But the way she did it, and the fact that she could. Her total dominion over me, and how easy it was for her to establish it.

‘Suck it in!’

As I did, a second and longer fart sputtered into my mouth and I almost choked on it, although I did my best to remain unperturbed. It took her half a minute to plop out a last small fart, then she straightened up and turned towards me. I was still kneeling before her and she looked down at me.

‘I’m not going to fuck you tonight. You don’t deserve to be fucked. So get that ugly squirming worm out of my sight. Pull up your pants.’

She was looking at my dick. I stood up and sheepishly pulled up my pants. Susan pulled down her knickers, allowing me a quick look at the grey bush I loved so much before she straightened down her dress. As soon as I had buckled up my belt, she motioned me onto the bed with a movement of her head. I lay down where she told me, on my back. She climbed onto the bed beside me and straddled me, lifting her left leg over my body and sitting her ass down on my chest. Her knees were alongside my ears. She looked down at me. I had trouble breathing with her weighing down on my ribcage, but tried hard not to let it show. I looked up at her, a question on my face.

‘Don’t look at me like that. That you don’t get to be fucked doesn’t mean I’m not going to cum tonight. Why waste battery time on my vibrator if I can have your tongue for free?’

For the first time tonight she laughed, and I felt a little better. She grabbed the headboard with one hand and lifted the hem of her dress with other, then shuffled forward until I was inside the tent of her dress and her cunt was right above my face. It was dark and hot between her thighs, with a heavy smell of sour sweat, stale urine and sweet cunt aroma. A ray of light appeared on my left as her hand reached down between her thighs and spread her cunt lips. Then she sat down.

My face sunk into the hot slimy crevice of her cunt and I wasn’t breathing. I panicked, but then I remembered what she wanted me down here for and I started to move my tongue around. Not an easy task with two hundred pounds of flesh on your face, but as soon as I flicked my tongue through her, she sat up slightly and I had more room for manoeuvring. Plus I was able to circulate some air through my lungs, however thick with her cunt aroma it was.

As I ran my tongue along the crest of her inner cunt lips, up and around her clit and down again into the tunnel of her vulva, Susan started to grind her hips, sliding her cunt up and down my face. Soon the sliding became a humping, ever faster in rhythm, until she was literally lifting her ass off my chest backwards into the air, then pushing her pelvis forward and smashing her cunt into my face with a force that buried my head into the cushions beneath me deeper with every stroke. Her cunt made a splashing sound every time it slammed into me, strings and drops of cunt juice spraying all around. When she came, she just sat her cunt down onto my face again and pumped her juices into my mouth, wave after hot wave while her ass trembled with the power of her climax. I heard her wailing high above me.

She sat on me for a long time, slowly sliding her cunt up and down, granting me only short spells of shallow breathing. Suddenly she froze. The hem of dress was pulled to the side and I saw her looking down at me.

‘This here is to remind you who’s the boss around here. Don’t spill a drop or you’ll be washing bed linen all night.’

Before I could ask what she meant, her cunt was back on my lips and a thin stream of a warm liquid started to trickle onto my tongue. From the salty taste, I knew immediately she was pissing into my mouth. I felt disgraced. After all she’d made me go through tonight, the ranting, the spanking, the farting, treating me like a child and denying me sexual release, she had to top it off with the humiliation of using me as a toilet. But she pinned my forehead down against the cushions with her right hand, clamped her thighs tightly around my head to immobilize it and pinched my nose shut with her other hand to keep me from closing my mouth. I was completely helpless, at the mercy of her pissing cunt.

The stream took up in strength, hissing furiously as it spat out of her urethra and fluttered past her cunt lips straight down my throat. I had no choice but to swallow if I didn’t want to drown in her piss. She was laughing while she pissed into me, which made me even madder, but the harder I struggled, the harder she pinned me down and the louder she laughed. She kept pissing for almost a minute, the stream sometimes slacking, then picking up again. Some of it splattered onto my teeth and from there rained in fine drops onto my face and into my eyes. I was gulping frantically, pausing at times to breathe through my nose while the piss kept filling my mouth and I had to swallow twice as hard to keep up with her discharge.

Finally the stream petered down to a mere trickle, then a slow drip. She squirted three times, squeezing the last drops from her bladder. Then she released me, rolling onto her back beside me on the bed, shaking with laughter. I shot up infuriated and stood above her with a good mind to smash her skull. It was her laughter that enraged me more than the humiliation.

For a reason still incomprehensible to me to this day, I suddenly calmed down. A voice in me said that she wasn’t laughing at me, and that I had no reason to be angry at her. It didn’t drain my anger, but it calmed me down enough to step away from the bed. I wiped my face with the sleeve of my shirt, grabbed my coat and stormed out the apartment. I could hear Susan’s laughter following me into the hallway. I didn’t wait for the elevator to arrive but ran down the stairwell, jumping whole flights of stairs at a time. I ran until I was standing before the door of my own apartment, breathless.



Chapter VII: ‘Come,’ she said, ‘I will dance for you.’

Once inside, my rage came back with a force that I could not contain. I stomped up and down the confines of my apartment, hitting and kicking the walls on either end before I turned. How could she do that to me? After all I had done for her, after all I had taken in stride, her aloofness, her rage, her abuse, I had swallowed it all only to be rewarded with utter humiliation. Damn her. Damn Susan, damn my weakness for her. She was nothing but an old bitch, a capricious, cold, manipulating old bitch.

I was a fool to have fallen for her. She’d only been playing with me. She’d recognized me for the stupid weakling I was and taken full advantage of me, for her own merriment and distraction. How stupid had I been not to have seen it from the start. Or maybe I had, I just had been so damned horny for her. Damn it! Damn damn damn all the dirty and denigrating things I’d let her do to me. Making me lick her smelly cunt, making me swallow her stinky farts. I’d let her cane me! Me, a grown up man, twice her strength, an executive position at the company I worked for. OK, so I was broke and lived in a shabby apartment, but that was the divorce and I’d soon recover financially.

And then, not only had she manipulated me into a position where I was helpless to let her pump her venom piss into my mouth, she’d laughed at me. Laughed at me. Well of course she had. I remembered the dreams that had been haunting me. My mother was right. I was a worthless piece of shit. Ridiculous too, ever to have allowed myself to think otherwise.

My anger was turning against myself and I was back on familiar territory. Anger always made me uncomfortable. I hadn’t been angry in a long time. Now my usual sadness started to drape over me again. But I didn’t want to be sad. I’d been sad for too long. I went into the bathroom, undressed and took a long cold shower to clear my mind.

The shower did little to dispense my mood, but as I dried myself off my attention was drawn to my hard-on. Recounting everything that had happened since Susan had stepped into the penthouse, I realized I had been hard throughout everything that had happened. Not even the cold shower had dimmed it. Suddenly I became aware of an enormous pressure in the pit of my stomach. Something was building up inside me, ready to explode.

I took my towel and lay down on my bed, still naked. I grabbed my dick and start to stroke it, up and down. When I closed my eyes, today’s events started to roll off like a movie in my mind. I could clearly see the images, Susan’s rage, the burning flesh of my buttocks during the caning, the wild look in her eyes while she pissed into my mouth. It was at the sound and sight of her laughter and the bitter taste of her piss still in my mouth that I exploded into an orgasm that seemed to last forever and jerked my body into relentless spasms.

It was as if a whole new world opened up before my eyes as I lay spent and exhausted from my climax. I felt as if I had been unplugged and emotions were running freely. I cried, but not of sadness nor of rage. All the hardships of my life were draining from me through my tears.

I had a vision of Susan standing above me, naked and ominous. Her hands were on her hips and she was looking down at me. She was smiling.

‘Come,’ she said, ‘I will dance for you.’

I was up on my knees before her, a strange nervousness tingling through my body.

‘This is a special dance. I have been practicing it for a long time, shaping it and perfecting it. You are the first and only person to witness it. I will perform it just for you.’

Her body seemed to glow from inside with a warm and throbbing light.

‘This dance will make you mine. It’s a power dance. It will bewitch you and enslave you. You will be mine when it’s over.’

I felt my heart pounding in my throat. She joined the palms of her hands with her elbows sticking out in a straight line, as in a yoga exercise. Then her hands moved downwards, her palms split and painted a large circle around her upper body before coming together again above her head, from where they came down in a waving motion until they cupped her vagina.

I was transfixed by the elegance and solemnity of her movements. For such a seemingly unrefined woman, she had amazing grace and control.

Her hands were circling her vagina without touching it. They flowed inward, then strained up towards her midriff, the muscles of her arms tense and her fingers stretched and joined at the tips. Her head was thrown backwards and she was silently humming. She repeated the movement several times, her whole body tensing more and more with every repetition. I had the distinct impression that she was pulling something out of her vagina.

The humming became louder and turned into chanting, although I could not make out any words. The arc of her hands moving up became wider and wider until she almost touched my face.

‘Look. Look.’

Susan was watching me from above.

‘Look at my hands. Quick.’

I lowered my eyes again to her hands. Thin transparent fibres with a faint reddish glow seemed to be flowing from her vagina, scooped up by her hands and whirling upwards before my eyes. I felt a sudden pressure in the pit of my stomach.

Susan almost imperceptibly changed the direction of her hand movements. Instead of going upwards along her belly, they started to reach out to me. The hands fluttered like butterflies ever closer towards my head, circling it, wrapping it in clouds of glowing fibres that swirled off her fingers like smoke from a cigarette.

‘Don’t be afraid. Relax and let me come inside you.’

Something in me seemed to connect with the fibres as they circled my head. It was as if my breathing was pulling them in, through my mouth. Susan’s hips started to sway in circles, her hands clasping bundles of fibres as they came flowing from her vagina, seemingly pulling them out and steering them towards my mouth.

My nervousness gradually subsided and was replaced by a warm glow that swept through my body. Susan’s arms were winging in front of her breasts now and she thrust her hips towards me in a circular motion, the fibres spiralling from her in waves. Her feet were moving in rhythm with her hips, turning inward, stepping back and forth, left and right. She was a beautiful and awe-inspiring sight.

Her vagina was close to my face now, the grey bush brushing my forehead, the swollen lips travelling up and down before me without touching. She thrust it upon me, a quick stroke up, then slowly down, and up again. I could smell her familiar aroma, heavy and humid.

I could no longer see the fibres, but felt them streaming into me with great force. Somehow, they were pulling at me, tugging ever harder, and a sense of panic filled me. I was shaking and Susan upped the rhythm of her dancing. She was starting to sweat with the effort.

‘Don’t fight it. Let it happen. You are safe with me. You know I won’t hurt you. I love you.’

Her words calmed me down a little bit, but I couldn’t help struggling. I felt my body stretching thin as my head was pulled towards Susan’s vagina which opened wide, the gaping dark hole of her vulva pulsating like a hungry mouth while the lips reached out and embraced my head, sucking me in, swallowing me whole.
I was in a narrow tunnel, the walls soft and slimy, tight and warm around me. There was a bright light at the end and I seemed to be sliding towards it. I suddenly knew I was dying. The light suddenly flashed and ripped through my body. I blacked out.

When I came to, it was dark. I was floating in a limbo, my knees tucked up to my chest, my arms wrapped tightly around my knees. The walls around me gave off a faint reddish glow, and I could see my hands clasped together in front of my face. Susan was gone.

I wasn’t breathing, at least not the way I was used to. I was swimming in a thick liquid. Blood was rushing into my midriff through a tube that came spiralling down from somewhere above me. It pumped through my veins at a rhythm that coincided stroke by stroke with a dull thudding somewhere behind my head.

A voice from without resonated within. It was soft and warm and seemed to come from all around me. I knew immediately it was Susan, although I couldn’t see her.

‘You are mine now. You will never be the same again. I will shape you to my shape, bend you to my will. You will not have a thought of your own, for all your thoughts are mine. You will not have a feeling that does not embrace me at its core. The life I give you will be in my service and at my sole discretion. This is why you have come to me, and this is what I have given you.’



Chapter VIII: ‘You’d better be strong enough to bend without breaking.’

I woke up in my bedroom, lying on the bed in foetal position. The sun was shining in through the curtains. I felt dizzy and empty, spent. Last night’s sticky towel was still in my lap, my organ shrunk and shrivelled inside.

I got up and took a shower. I wasn’t hungry, but made myself a cup of Darjeeling with a twist of lemon. I had an impulse of going to see Susan, either at her apartment or later at the bar, but decided against it. I wasn’t sure I could explain why I had run out on her, nor why I was coming back now. I could in a way explain it for myself, but this morning’s dream had shook me up even more than I’d already been and I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, except that I longed for Susan.

I did my best to keep busy all day, going shopping, cleaning the apartment, doing my laundry. I didn’t sleep at all that night, images of Susan kept popping up in my mind and I was swept through a myriad of quickly changing emotions. I eventually dozed off in the small hours of Sunday morning, waking up at noon with a splitting headache.

I finally decided I had to see Susan, no matter what. If she was pissed that I’d run out, I’d find a way to make it up to her and if that involved another spanking, so be it. There was something brooding inside, bursting to break out, and somehow Susan was the key to that release. That much I’d understood from my dream.

I bought two dozen white roses before ringing her bell. She didn’t answer for a while and I thought I’d missed her, but then her voice croaked on the intercom.

‘Yeah?’

‘Susan, it’s me.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Take you out for dinner. We can go see a movie and then we can come back here and fuck until the sun comes out.’

‘Go away.’

‘I brought you flowers.’

I held them up to the eye of the camera.

‘What time is it?’

‘It’s a quarter past one. PM.’

There was a long silence. I was about to turn away when I heard the buzzer of the door lock. I pushed the door and stepped inside, relieved.

Susan’s door was open when I stepped out of the elevator. Susan was lying face down on the bed, draped in a nightgown. I went into the kitchen, filled a vase with water and placed the flowers on the dining room table. Then I made fresh coffee while I washed the dishes.

Susan hadn’t moved when I brought her the coffee. I sat down on the bed beside her. She opened her eyes but didn’t budge.

‘What do you want?’

‘I told you.’

‘I forgot. Tell me again.’

‘Let’s go out for dinner. I know a nice Italian place on the waterside.’

She sat up slowly and bleary-eyed. I handed her the cup of coffee and she sipped it.

‘OK. But only because I have nothing else to do today and you owe me.’

‘I know.’

‘Good. I intend to make you pay. Now go run me a bath.’

It took me an hour to get her bathed, groomed and dressed. Susan took shameless advantage of me, treating me like a servant. Soap my back, massage my feet, hand me the brush, shine my shoes. I liked doing things for her and had been doing so on my own accord, but being told to do them by her, in that haughty and bossy bar-owner attitude that she had, added extra spice to the experience which kept me sexually aroused throughout.

The restaurant was almost empty when we arrived and my favourite table in the back was free. It wasn’t the best nor the most expensive restaurant in town, but it was warm and homely in the best Italian tradition and the menu was varied. I took Susan’s coat and held her chair for her.

I ordered a bottle of Chianti. Susan seemed a lot more relaxed, but wasn’t talking a lot. I told her about my work and my divorce. She seemed very interested and asked a few questions. When the food came, she shifted the conversation to us.

‘What I like about you, Peter, is that you go out of your way to please me. And I don’t mean just the … you know. I noticed you’ve been quite a busy little maid around the house. That is something quite unique in my life.’

‘I… Oh, that. It’s nothing, don’t even mention it. You’ve been very kind to me, it’s the least I can do.’

‘You’re missing the point. I haven’t been kind to you. I’ve been rude and stand-offish with you, and still you come back every time. Do you know why?’

She was right.

‘No. I’ve been asking myself that same question.’

‘I know you have. And I think you do know the answer.’

I did. I just wasn’t sure I wanted to tell her. Susan lay down her fork and looked at me intently. I forked through the food on my plate trying to gather my thoughts. It wasn’t something that ever came easy confessing.

‘I’m… I think I’m in love with you.’

Susan remained silent for a while, but didn’t take her stare off me.

‘No, that is not the reason why.’

‘Oh? I should think that is plenty of reason. All the reason I need. And mind, it wasn’t an easy conclusion for me to come by. You’re not exactly my type.’

I immediately regretted saying that. I was a bit pissed that she hadn’t acknowledged my feelings, but I certainly didn’t want to hurt hers.

‘Oh yeah? And who do you consider is your type? Your spic and span ex-wife you keep whining about?’

‘I-I meant nothing by it. Forget I said that.’

‘No no, to the contrary, this is important. I am your type. You just pretend to ignore it.’

‘I’m not following. I said I’m in love with you.’

‘Am I supposed to be flattered by that?’

‘No. Do with it what you will. I’m just saying that I am. No reason you should feel the same for me.’

‘Don’t go crawling back into your shell now. It was hard enough for me to draw you out this far.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Like you don’t know what we’re talking about here.’

‘But I don’t!’

It had come out with more force than I’d intended. As it was, I’d hammered my frustration with my fist on the table, which sent my fork flying and turned several heads around us. I looked away embarrassed. Something was happening to me and Susan was doing it, I just didn’t know what it was.

The waiter brought me a new fork. I waited until he was gone, which gave me time to calm down. I was almost whispering when I continued.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. A lot has happened in these last few days that have had a deep effect on me, and I haven’t a clue what it all means.’

‘You’re scared, that’s what’s happening to you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just what I’m saying. You’re scared.’

‘But scared of what?’

‘Of me tumbling your little world. You want me, you need me, but you’re afraid of me and of what I’ll do to you.’

‘What are you doing to me?’

Susan threw her head back and laughed.

‘I’m not doing anything to you. I’m just my usual self, doing my usual thing. Whatever is happening to you, it’s not my doing. It’s all in you.’

‘I’m not following.’

‘Your mother treated you like shit, didn’t she?’

Her remark took me aback. I hadn’t talked to her about my mother. But the connection was not unwarranted. I had always known that my mother’s rejection of me was a haunting constant in my social and emotional life.

‘I wasn’t a happy child.’

‘Exactly. That little unhappy child still lives inside you. You’ve built a man around it, a successful man, a strong man who has his life under control. You’ve removed the unhappy child from your conscious memory, but it keeps haunting you. In your dreams, in your longings, in your moods.’

She was amazing. I hadn’t mentioned my recurring nightmares, but she was right.

‘When you married your ex, you married your mother. A cold selfish bitch, always complaining about you and your shortcomings.’

‘She never loved me.’

‘But you thought you could make her love you if you took all her crap. You thought you could turn her around if you showed her how much you loved her. You were willing to put up with anything to show her that. But you failed. You came up short.’

The story of my life. The sadness of so many wasted years welled up from inside. I turned my head to hide the tears in my eyes.

‘The bitching just got worse. No matter what you did, she was never satisfied. Instead of feeling understood and loved, she just became more restless, piling abuse on insult. That’s when you realized she was just using you.’

It is true there had been times when I’d felt used, but I’d always dismissed the feeling with the belief that deep down inside she loved me, even if she didn’t know it. I’d been wrong about that, but I could not to this day stand the thought of having been used.

‘She didn’t love me, but I can’t say she used me.’

‘Of course she did. She used you as a scapegoat for her failures. To rectify herself. She could never take responsibility for her own life, that’s what she had you for. She herself was a victim in her childhood, of her own mother. She just continued the pattern of being victimized.’

Strange how in life we pursue what haunts us most. No wonder we fail so miserably. We set ourselves up for failure even before we start.

‘You know where you were wrong? Your wife may have been a bitch, but she did love you. You were just too busy feeling sorry for yourself to notice it. You never cared enough to find out what it was she needed from you. You thought you could make her happy taking the fall for her, sacrificing yourself on the altar of her bitterness, like you had done for your mother. That was never what she needed. There was no room in the house for two victims. She needed you to show her how to break the pattern. But you couldn’t even break your own pattern.’

This was going to a place I didn’t care for. Now I was to blame for the failure of my marriage, after all I had put up with? Susan was done with her plate and pushed it aside. She paused to light a cigarette.

‘You never wanted to. You preferred to wallow in your misery, flaunting what a wonderful husband you were putting up with such a bitchy wife. That was the only way you felt you could vindicate yourself.’

‘What would I’ve had to vindicate myself for? I’d done nothing wrong.’

‘For failing your mother. For failing your wife. For being such a miserable shit.’

‘I’m not a miserable shit.’

‘I know that. But do you?’

I had since childhood felt inadequate and insufficient. It took me years to work myself up to a modicum of self-respect and self-esteem. Still, there were moments when I realized how faint and vulnerable a veneer it was.

‘That’s why she left you in the end. You had nothing to give her. You were both too selfish and needy to have anything to give to each other. For a relationship to work, it needs giving and taking. You nursed your ego with the thought that you were giving and suffering for it, when in reality you were getting off on feeling used. You love feeling used. You’re addicted to it.’

‘You can’t say that. You don’t know my wife. You don’t know what it was like. You weren’t there.’

‘I’ve been there. You never asked, but I was once married.’

‘Why are we even talking about this? What has my wife to do with us?’

‘Everything! Can’t you see? You’re making the same mistakes all over again.’

‘What mistakes?’

Susan shot an angry look at me.

‘Haven’t you listened to anything I just said?

‘I have. I just don’t happen to agree with you.’

Susan threw her arms up and rolled her eyes in desperation. She lit another cigarette and started to say something, but checked herself. When she spoke, her voice was calm and measured.

‘Never mind. I don’t need you to agree with me. I don’t even need you to understand. One thing I can tell you though, I will not put up with a sorry sob of a man. Been there, done that. I’m a bitch, I’m mean and I’m moody. If you’re going to hang out with me you’d better be strong enough to bend without breaking.’

‘I’m not a sorry sob.’

‘You’d better not be. Let’s go. All this talking tires me.’

Chapter IX: ‘I want you to trust me.’

We were silent on the way home. I pondered on Susan’s words. She was so confident in her assertions. Did she know something I didn’t know?

Back in her apartment, Susan dropped her coat on the floor and went straight into the bedroom. I picked up her coat and followed her.

‘There’s something I want you to do for me.’

She paused, looking me straight in the eye. I waited.

‘I want you to trust me.’

‘I do.’

‘No you don’t. But I’m asking you to trust me now.’

A silent alarm went off in my head.

‘What for? What are you going to do to me?’

‘Nothing you don’t want me to do.’

‘That’s a flexible concept, coming from you.’

‘So you don’t trust me.’

It wasn’t a question. I opened my mouth to protest, but she placed a finger on my lips.

‘Shush. Think. I’m giving you a choice. Will you trust me, yes or no?’

The look in her eyes was intense, I felt it almost physically penetrate layer after layer of mental and emotional barriers, straight into an unknown core deep within myself. Something stirred in my trousers as I answered.

‘OK,’ I croaked, ‘I’ll trust you. Where do you want me?’

Susan almost doubled up with laugher. It took a while before she regained her composure.

‘Oh my, Peter, you crack me up. You poor thing, once again hopelessly at the mercy of the mean old witch, aren’t you?’

I felt foolish. I never knew with Susan, she was so unpredictable.

‘Let’s go into the bathroom, it’ll be easier to clean up the mess there.’

‘W-what are you going to do to me?’

As unpredictable as she was, everything Susan ever did turned out to have a plan.

‘I’m going to make you mine.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Exactly what I said. I’m going to take possession of you. I’m going to enslave you so you are mine and mine only, so I may use you whenever and wherever and however I want to.’

The concept was questionable and I didn’t like the sound of it, but somehow her words resonated with a wretched longing deep inside me. I remembered the dream I’d had with Susan last night.

‘How?’

‘Never mind the how. You said you’d trust me. Remember I gave you a choice.’

‘I always have a choice.’

Susan laughed.

‘Of course you do.’

The way she said it and the eye-wink she followed it up with were patronizing. I opened my mouth to object, but she shushed me again with her finger.

‘Get naked.’

Susan stepped into the bathroom. Before she closed the door behind her, she looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I started undressing.

When she came back out, I was standing naked in the middle of her bedroom, painfully aware of my dick sticking out in full deployment. I was deeply embarrassed and felt uneasy and out of place.

Susan had taken off her pumps and her face looked flushed, still wet with the water she’d splashed onto it. Her eyes dropped to my enflamed crotch, but she said nothing. There was a faint Mona Lisa smile on her lips as she stepped towards me and turned her back to me.

‘Unzip me.’

I unzipped her dress and she let it slide to the floor.

‘Get my slippers. They’re beneath the bed somewhere.’

I found her slippers and kneeled down before her to help her into them. She leaned on my shoulders and I breathed in the aroma of soap and sweat that emanated from her warm skin.

As I straightened up again, she stepped towards the bathroom again. She turned in the doorway and crooked a finger at me.

‘Come. It is time.’

I was trembling as I followed her into the bathroom. I felt like a lamb going to the slaughter. Still, the irony didn’t escape me.

Some lamb. With a hard-on.



Chapter X: ‘With this I make you mine.’

‘Lie down. Right there, on your back.’

Susan pointed at an area on the floor between the bath tub and the wash basin.

‘Those tiles are going to be awfully cold on my naked skin.’

She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

‘You’re such a sissy. All right, there’s a large towel on the rack over there. Spread it out on the floor and lie down. And make it snappy, I can’t hold back forever.’

Hold back what? I arranged the towel and lay down on it, my head towards the toilet. No sooner was I on the floor, Susan took off her bra, downed her briefs and straddled my head, her back towards the toilet. I was looking up at her broad ass, the buttocks pressed tightly together although her legs were slightly apart. The insides of her thighs joined just below her crotch and blocked her cunt from view. I could see the rounding of her belly where it folded over her lap. Susan bent forward ever so slightly and between the flattened globes of her breasts her eyes appeared, staring down at me.

‘This is not going to be easy on you, but it is necessary. You could say it’s an initiation ritual. I have bestowed this honour on only a few men in my life, and none have stood the test. I have great hopes that you may be the first to measure up.’

Susan bent further forward, placing her hands on her knees. Her breasts unglued from her chest and dangled high above me. She kept looking down at me. My own eyes flitted nervously between her face, her breasts and her enormous behind that seemed to grow in size as she slowly squatted down over my face.

If you have ever been in this position with a slightly over-sized woman, you will easily understand the sense of awe that overcame me. As the ass came closer, the fleshy thighs separated and shuddered as they drooped down. The massive buttocks split apart, revealing Susan’s greying bush, the widening gash of her cunt and the brown wrinkly softness of her asshole nestled deep between the half moons of her ass cheeks.

I had to make a conscious effort to breathe, as even my involuntary body functions seemed to paralyze at the sight that was unfolding above me. If this was going to be a ritual and Susan’s ass was the altar, I was going to be a regular churchgoer.

Susan’s asshole stopped an inch or two short of my lips. I could smell the sweetish asshole smell it exuded and breathed it in hungrily.

‘Peter, I want you to open your mouth. Whatever happens, I don’t want you to close it until I say so. I that understood?’

How bad could it be?

‘Yes.’

‘I can’t tell you how important it is that you do exactly as I tell you. A foul-up would be an irreparable disaster. Is that clear?’

Stop teasing. Whatever it is, do it already.

‘Yes.’

‘You have come here by your own free will. I did not coax you nor force you. You are here under me because that is where you want to be. You will now take from me what I feed you, you will take it in and savour it and swallow it, for this is a piece of me, it is my mark that I leave in you as a territorial claim, a token of my rightful tenure and ownership.’

She seemed to be speaking in tongues, I could make no sense of what she was saying, but it aroused me deeply.

Susan’s asshole was pumping in and out in a mesmerizing rhythm. Involuntarily, I arched my neck and strained towards the pumping sphincter. Something told me that was were the action was.

‘With this I make you mine.’

Nothing happened for a while. My neck was getting stiff but I persevered. I expected her to fart, she seemed to have a penchant for that. Although I hadn’t particularly enjoyed it, the idea in itself appealed to me. It was an act of power.

I heard a faint prattle and my nose suddenly filled up with the penetrating stink of fresh shit. Something hard and slimy bumped against the corner of my lips and slid inwards. I drew back in horror, bumping my head hard against the floor.

There it was, dangling from Susan’s ass, sliding out slowly and majestically: a thick brown slimy turd. It stretched her anus so wide that it ironed out the wrinkles and left the skin shiny and pale as it was pulled down along the brown slippery shaft that came inching towards my open mouth. The tip was already between my lips and I could feel its warmth like a soft glow on my tongue.

Susan placed a hand on my forehead and leaned on it heavily, making it impossible for me to turn my head. It was an unnecessary measure, for I was too awestruck to move. I couldn’t even think straight, all I could do was witness this massive stinky log sagging leisurely into my mouth from Susan’s ass, as if I were but a bystander to this act and not an integral part of it. It was somehow unreal, too bizarre and too bold to be true.

The turd thinned out at the top and dropped heavily onto my tongue. It stayed erect for a short while before it slumped to one side and folded over the rim of my lips onto my left cheek.

The sharp sting of bitterness brought me back to my senses. I suddenly realized that my mouth was stuffed with a soft lump of shit.

‘Eat from my flesh, so I may flow in your veins, nestle in your every fibre, be in you like no one has ever been in you, deeper and closer than you have ever been with anyone.’

Susan’s words penetrated my mind with a sharpness that paralleled the taste in my mouth. Somehow, her trancelike litany and the warm mass in my mouth seemed to melt into one big lump that started to sag into me. I felt it press against the back of my throat and I gagged.

Everything in me screamed to push out the fat slimy turd inside my mouth, but it seemed to have a life of its own. Somehow the gagging seemed to widen my throat and the thick mass lodged deeper into it. I wasn’t breathing and on the verge of throwing up. There were only two ways this thing in my mouth could go, and somehow down seemed to be the fastest route. I swallowed as hard and fast as I could.

I felt the lump sliding whole down my oesophagus, stretching it almost beyond capacity. I was swallowing desperately and at the same time taking in quick gulps of air. I felt its full length descend downwards, inch by everlasting inch, until the oppressive feeling in my chest slowly subsided. Suddenly I had a feeling of fullness in my stomach.

Already a second turd was pushing through the pumping asshole above me. It seemed to glow, a deep soft brown that sparkled in the warm surrounding light. It pressed through my spread lips onto my tongue, where it collapsed lazily after slipping out of Susan’s anus. Drops of urine were trickling onto my chin and Susan shifted her ass backwards until her cunt was above my mouth. The trickle gained in force and soon a thick stream of piss was splattering into my open mouth, dissolving the lump of shit inside into a mushy mass. As if on automatic pilot. I mulled it around with my tongue and proceeded to swallow it in small bits.

My mouth was numb with the bitterness of Susan’s shit. Above me, she shifted her ass forward again to reposition her gaping asshole above my open mouth. There was no time to relax. I could see the tip of a third turd lingering in its dark depths. It was smaller than the previous ones and darker in colour. Susan’s ass tensed and it spit two firm balls of shit into my mouth in rapid succession. I swallowed them whole one after the other.

Susan’s hand dove in from behind with a folded piece of toilet paper and started to wipe the shitty smears from her ass crack. She wasn’t completely clean when she got to her feet, but she didn’t seem to mind. She stepped off me and looked down at me, smiling.

‘There. Now you are mine and there is nothing you can do about it. I’m inside you at a level where you can’t reach me. I’m an integral part of you now.’

She straddled my head again, facing me this time. Flexing her knees, she introduced two, then all of the fingers of her right hand into her dripping cunt and started to pump it furiously, all the while looking down at me.

‘Grab your cock and start jerking off. I want you to cum with the taste of my shit in your mouth. Do it.’

I reached down and palmed my throbbing hardness. The sharp taste in my mouth nauseated me, but seeing her standing above me pumping and rubbing her slimy cunt with her hand sent me straight into climax. My hips jerked as I pumped my sperm into the air, while thick drops of cunt juice from Susan’s climax rained onto my face from above.



Chapter XI: ‘I just don’t know what to do with you yet, now that I have you.’

Susan handed me an unused toothbrush, toothpaste and a mouth disinfectant from the cabinet above the mirror and stepped into the bathtub for a shower. I brushed and rinsed three times before I felt confident enough to join her in the shower, but she signalled me to wait and hand her a towel.

Susan was smoking on the bed, still naked, lying on her side with her back towards me and her head propped up on her right arm. There was a soap opera playing on the TV set. I spooned her from behind. I was feeling very vulnerable and wanted her to hold me, but she seemed too immersed in the TV show to take notice of me.

Later that night, while she lay snoring beside me, I tried to take stock of what had happened. I conjured up the words she had spoken during the ritual. They were engraved in my mind and I remembered every single word in the exact sequence she had spoken them. Had she meant them, or had it all just been part of a game? Why was she always so cold and distant right after reeling me into her? There was so much I still had to learn about her.

I left her apartment early the next morning and went to my place to change before going to work. I tried to get Susan off my mind and drown myself in work, but I didn’t quite manage. Nor could I get a straight thought in about her, or myself. I somehow felt dislocated. Something was different about me but I couldn’t place a finger on what that was.

I left work early and went straight to the bar. Susan wasn’t there but Jeff said she’d called in and left me a message, to wait for her if I was there before her. I sat at the far end of the bar nursing a diet Coke for over an hour before she joined me.

It was the first time Susan kissed me in public, on the mouth at that, and the gesture took me so completely by surprise that I was too stunned to kiss her back. She climbed onto the stool beside me and told Jeff to bring us two beers. She was radiant and her mood was infectious. Soon we were laughing and talking animatedly like two school children.

We left for a walk in a nearby park. The evening was cool and the stars were out. We sat on a bench by a small pond. Susan embraced me briefly, then hooked her arm into mine and sat back to look at the stars.

I couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was for Susan to take me in tow. She’d been wrong about me not trusting her. I did. It was just difficult for me to surrender control. I always liked to be on top of things, make my own decisions when I felt I was ready to make them. I had been despondent with her, especially when she was pushing me over the edge the way she liked to do. It was fear. Yet she had always found a way to bend me to her purpose. I had always ended up doing exactly as she’d wanted me to, overcoming my initial reluctance and doubts.

‘More than afraid to lose control, you’re afraid that someone might not like you. You’re afraid of rejection.’

‘I’ve had nothing but rejection in my life.’

‘No. You’ve sought out rejection all your life.’

‘It’s not like it’s a matter of choice. Rejection is all around. It finds you without you having to look for it.’

‘You’re just more sensitive to it. You see rejection behind every corner. You go out of your way to please people so they don’t reject you.’

‘They reject me anyway.’

‘That’s because you insist on pleasing the wrong people.’

‘How’s that?’

‘You seek out people who can’t be pleased.’

She had a point there and I knew it.

‘I have always wondered why I do that.’

‘Because you’re a masochist.’

‘I am not!’

‘Of course you are. You love to suffer.’

‘I don’t. I hate it.’

‘You get off on it. The mere idea of being used gives you a hard-on. That’s exactly what attracts you to me. I am selfish and I use you. I use you in every way possible, in ways you have no imagination for. And you don’t even need my gratitude.’

She paused to see if I was listening.

‘I am mean to you but you forget the moment I call on you to satisfy a whim. I am cool and distant after using you and you still come back the next day, eager to please me. No matter what I use you for, you always accede to being used. I even abuse of you, physically and emotionally, and you’ve never said no.’

Yesterday’s scene in the bathroom was fresh in my memory. She had abused of me all right, and I had let her despite the grossness of the act.

‘I guess you’re right.’

‘Of course I’m right. I’m always right.’

There was no glee. She was serious. I had an impulse to lecture her on the subjectivity of truth, but repressed it. We sat in silence for a while. A couple walked by, tightly embraced and laughing. A question popped in my mind.

‘Where are we going with this?’

Susan turned to me with a quizzed look on her face.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You and I. What are we? Friends? Lovers?’

I paused. ‘A couple?’

‘Hmm. I don’t know. I haven’t made up my mind about that. You’re a new book and I’ve hardly written the first page. It all depends, I guess.’

‘On what? On me?’

‘No. You’re not a factor. I’ve taken care of you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I own you. I don’t need to deal with you because I control you. You’re mine. I just don’t know what to do with you yet, now that I have you.’

There was an arrogance to her statement that pissed me off.

‘You don’t own me. I am a free person, I make my own decisions.’

‘Not anymore. Not since I got inside you and messed you up. You’re mine now, and you’ll do everything I want you to do.’

‘That’s what you want me to believe. I can walk away any time I choose to.’

‘Of course you can. But you won’t.’

‘What makes you so sure?’

‘Go ahead. Walk away. Now.’

She looked at me defiantly. I was angry enough to actually get to my feet, but something in me caved and I was back on the bench beside her in no time.

‘See?’ Triumphantly. ‘I told you.’

I lowered my head between my hands and tried to think, but my emotions were on a rampage.

‘Listen, accept it once and for all that you are mine, whether that suits you or not. This is beyond your power. I have done things to you that you can’t undo.’

I raised my head.

‘A-are you talking about… what we did? The other night?’

‘What, the shit feeding? You liked that, didn’t you? No. That was just a little game I like to play. Or yes, maybe. It’s symbolic, really. But I was in you before that. It was just the crowning. Something you’d remember, something that would mean something to you.’

She scanned my face for a reaction.

‘I’ll keep doing that, you know that, don’t you? You are so stuck up, you’re going to need constant reinforcements.’

I gulped. Susan broke out in laughter. It was something I had a hard time getting used to.

After a short while, she got up, planted herself in front of me and placed her right foot on the bench. I was looking straight into the dark shadows between her spread thighs beneath the dress.

‘I have to pee.’

‘I’ll walk you home.’

I moved to get up, but she didn’t budge.

‘No. I got to pee now.’

I looked up at her. She wasn’t smiling, which meant she wasn’t asking. I knew what she wanted, but after my failed declaration of independence, I felt I owed myself at least a minor victory.

‘OK. Then I’ll keep watch while you crouch behind those bushes over ther...’

She slapped me right across the face before I could finish the sentence.

‘Don’t be a goddamn clown. You have no talent for it.’

I rubbed my burning cheek.

‘S-someone is going to come by. You can’t do this, not here.’

‘Worse things happen in this park. Stop whining and take it like a man.’

It may well have started out as a whim, but my refusal had turned it into a tour de force. I had a good mind of standing my ground to prove her wrong, but something in me seemed to shift and to my great surprise I found myself sliding off the bench and kneeling between Susan’s legs.

Susan didn’t seem a bit surprised. As if it were the most normal thing to do, she lifted the hem of her dress over my head with one hand and with the other pulled the front of her briefs aside. The dense bush popped out with the bare cunt lips beneath. I breathed in her heavy woman smell.

She didn’t give me time to open my mouth. She tilted her pelvis forward and started pissing almost immediately. The warm stream splattered onto my face and dribbled down my neck and chest. I opened up quickly to avoid further disaster.

Her stream was thick and strong. She wasn’t holding her cunt lips apart so it was spiralling out from between them, making them flutter like leaves in the breeze. I had to move in closer and place my lips on her fluttering cunt to avoid getting soaked completely. She pissed relentlessly for over a minute, the stream letting down a few times only to pick up with renewed force again, and I had to gulp hard and fast to take it all in.

She squirted twice before she was finished. There was a pause after the last squirt and I started to lick her cunt clean. I could feel a thicker liquid building up between her lips, but she eventually stepped off me and straightened out her dress.

‘Now you can walk me home.’

My shirt and the front of my trousers were drenched in piss. We walked in silence. We passed an elderly woman walking her dog and a flirting couple, both straight beneath a street light. I tried to ignore the stares and the muffled giggling.

Susan unlocked the front door and said goodnight.

‘C-can’t I come up?’

She looked me up and down.

‘Naah. You reek of piss. Look me up at the bar tomorrow.’

She winked an eye at me and stepped inside, leaving me standing outside. I felt cold and alone, but my mood quickly dissipated. Somehow I knew she cared, even if she couldn’t show it. I should trust her. A warm feeling filled me as I walked the lonely streets home.

---