An Unwilling Submission

Even as I was registering this she began to work her panties down her legs. I wanted to look away but I found myself watching with a hideous fascination. She had an even skin tone but this only made the deep, shadowed, valleys more pronounced as her body moved.

She kicked her panties aside and, standing proudly legs akimbo, ran her hand over her sex. She had a small, low set, mound dressed with an uneven frizz of dark curls which shaded to gray on the insides of her thighs.

It may have been the blow to the head but I began to feel nauseous. I lifted my head a little and felt marginally better but she chose that moment to seal my fate. With no concern for my well being she dropped to her knees and allowed her weight to settle on my chest.

I immediately struggled for air as her bulk put a fresh strain on my already troubled lungs. She could see my distress but seemed completely unmoved as she took off her bra.

Even with my vision blurred I could see that her breasts might once have been impressive. Her nipples were black saucers set against a warmer brown and the engorged teats hinted at former glory.

She saw where I was looking and lifted them as if for inspection. It was clear that she felt she was possessed of something that men still might find desirous.

I would have begged her to get off of me but I knew it would avail me nothing; instead I resorted to threats. "Don't even think about it. I will bite you so hard..."

She simply smiled and I saw in that look an absolute assurance that she was going to get her way. I felt a sudden dread, wondering just how far they would go, as Mavis eased forward so that her sex was poised above my face.

"You ever tasted black coochie?" I did not answer and kept my mouth firmly closed. Her smile widened as if this was the response that she had been expecting. She ran her hand over her sex again and sighed to herself.

I could see, now, that the insides of her thighs had been dusted with talc and I recognized the strong smell of lavender but it could not overcome the muskier scent of her excitement.

I tried to struggle free but that just made them laugh. They unfastened my jeans and pulled them down my legs so that I was hobbled. I then felt a hand gently fondling my balls. I tried to ignore it but it was a skilful caress and, before very long, my manhood betrayed me.

They laughed together as I squirmed in obvious discomfort and fingers clumsily toyed with the tube itself. Throughout this Mavis remained unmoved with her meaty knees pinning my shoulders to the floor.

Finally, they tired of their game and I felt a new sensation. There was a hand still cradling me but I could feel a single finger probing my sac. It seemed innocuous until I was suddenly jolted by an unbelievable pain. It could not have hurt more if someone had kicked me between the legs. It passed quickly leaving a deep, penetrating, ache and Mavis spoke. "Still want to bite me?"

Slowly, inch by inch, she began to descend and her dark skin seemed to absorb the light and air. I tried to shake my head in furious denial but her thighs closed about my head making all movement impossible.

She seemed to flow over me until there was total darkness and then the floor beneath me creaked as she relaxed altogether and her full weight bore down.

I thought that my skull would be crushed and I tried to cry out but my mouth was sealed by the pulpy mass of her sex.

She waited ten long seconds before she relented and eased up just a little. I was able to move my head fractionally but I only succeeded in sinking my nose into a wet, stifling, trench.

I have a penchant for horror films, perversely because I find that most of them make me laugh, but one that did frighten me, and has stayed with, was Roger Corman's "Premature Burial".

As a young teenager I stayed over at a friend's house and we watched it on late night television whilst his parents were out. At the time I could only imagine the terror of being buried alive but now I had a real inkling.

I could hardly breathe and when I did the air was moist and strong with the smell of her sex. It almost felt like drowning and my natural response was to try and breathe even more deeply.

It was like inhaling a drug. The essence of her filled my lungs and clouded my mind. I wanted to lick her, because to do so would be to gain some relief from the mountain of flesh that entombed me, but there was no way to communicate my submission.

My last coherent thought was to play dead and hope that they would show a little compassion but, in reality, I feared the schadenfreude.

Just then she lifted herself; not much, but enough for me catch a gasping breath. "You are going to remember me for the rest of your life." With those mocking words she sealed me in once more and so the scene was set. Each time I thought that I was going to expire she would grant me a single breath but then she would resettle.

I was blind and her thighs were tight to my ears so that my hearing was restricted to the pounding of my own blood flow. Inevitably my body called on my remaining senses and everything in my closed universe was focused on her scent and ever increasing wetness.

Every now and again she would move very slightly as if gauging the contours of my face and then, suddenly, the reason became apparent.

Her weight began to shift, to roll forward up and over my features. It started slowly, almost imperceptibly, but once she was in motion she gained inertia. She rocked on my face, working her hips with a driving rhythm. She used my sweat and her own emissions as a lubricant and set a pace that I would have thought beyond her.

I was no longer bearing her whole weight but I feared for my nose and mouth. She was sliding from my chin to my forehead and back slowly filling my nostrils with a cloying mess.

It seemed to go on for an eternity but, finally, she reined herself in and centred herself on the bridge of my nose. Her movements were more delicate, more deliberate, as she stimulated her clitoris. Her whole body seemed to vibrate and a long way off, in another world, I could just hear a muted, joyful, exultation.

When it was over she no longer had the strength to bear herself up and her flesh melted onto my face once more. At that point I was no longer compos mentis.

Things only came back into focus again when she reluctantly heaved herself up and then I wished that they had not. I was hot, sweating from every pore, but so, it seemed, was she.

Her skin shone and a single bead of moisture was moving ever faster over the curve of her belly. For a second or two it hung heavily but then surrendered to gravity to fall wetly on my forehead.

She laughed at my look of disgust. "You made momma all hot and bothered. You ready for some more?"

She loomed over me again allowing me to see the open pink maw her sex had become. She was very wet and a single, tenuous, strand formed a fairy bridge between her leathery labia.

I tried to turn my head aside but that just made her laugh all the more. "It's up to you. You can lick me or I'll ride your pretty little face. One way or another I'm going to come again and, believe me, this time it's going to take a whole lot longer."

She knew I had no choice; the thought of spending another minute buried beneath her was unthinkable. I stopped struggling and opened my mouth.

"Glad you saw sense." She presented herself to me but even now I felt uncomfortably closed in. Her heavy thighs radiated heat, as did her sex itself, and the light was almost totally eclipsed.

I put out my tongue thankful, at least, that I could breath normally again. The taste, to begin with, was unpleasant; a stale mix of her and me but it did not take much to set up a fresh flow and then it did not seem so bad.

It seemed incredible to consider that, only a short while ago, I hated doing this at all and now I was grateful for her excitement. Even my tongue seemed to have found new stamina.

I do not know how long she kept me at work. The music outside had stopped and at least one other person tried to gain entrance to the trailer only to be given short shrift.

She issued instruction from time to time, sometimes wanting my tongue deep inside and at others paying attention to her labia. I did the best I could, not only to try and satisfy her as soon as possible, but also because I needed something to focus on.

When she leaned forward a little making her clitoris available I knew better than to rush at it. I sucked it softly between my lips and circled it with my tongue. I determined the pace that worked for her and felt a peculiar sense of achievement as, for the first time, she offered genuine thanks as she started to come. She came more gently and her climax was prolonged but by the end I was in pain. Incredible as it seemed my manhood had tried to achieve an erection only to be broken in the attempt.

Chapter 5

I was saved by a commotion outside. There was a loud banging on the wall of the trailer, along with angry voices, and Mavis hurriedly dressed. I locked myself in a cubicle, to give myself time to recover, whilst the three women left with excuses about jammed doors.

It was nearly an hour before I stopped shaking enough to drive home and when I got there I cried.

I do not know why. There was an element of shame certainly but there was clearly something more. I felt as if I was being subtly changed and in some way manipulated.

Dominique phoned asking how the shoot went and I was as brief as politeness would allow. She wanted to meet up but I made excuses. I was due to see Vetris the following day and I was determined that the next time I met with Dominique I would make a new beginning symbolized by the removal of the tube.

Mornings were always the most difficult time. More often than not I was woken before the alarm by the pain of a frustrated erection and today, perhaps anticipating imminent freedom, it seemed worse than ever. I had to resort to a freezing shower to calm myself down and avoided morning television lest the image of a half acceptable female set things off again.

On the drive down I thought about all that I had been through but decided the cost was worth it. I need not see anyone involved ever again and I could begin to realize my dream.

DeeDee answered the door to me dressed, as usual, in one of the tailored business suits that, on her, looked undeniably sexy. She looked me up and down with an enigmatic smile before leading me through to the day room.

I was greeted by the gentle strains of shamisen music and the reason was immediately obvious. With her back to me Vetris was seated in the lotus position in front of the large central window.

DeeDee took up her usual station at the side the room and I stood idly for two or three minutes until the music came to a finish.

As the last notes died Vetris rose from the floor in a fluid motion. She was wearing an exquisitely embroidered silk gown which was just long enough to preserve her modesty.

Backlit by the sun streaming in at the window I could appreciate the delicious curves of her body and I felt a warning tingle from my groin.

As she turned to me I as mildly surprised to see that she was already wearing full make-up. Her dark eyes were accented by a black liner and a subtly bronze eye shadow and her full lips were glossed in the rich red colour which had become her trademark. If they ever contemplated a remake of Cleopatra she would have to be a candidate.

"So, you've come for the key." "I would have come earlier but I understand you've been away." I was trying for sarcasm but it came out more bitterly than I intended and I found that once I had started I could not stop. "What is it with you? Do you like playing the bitch, getting off on other peoples misery?"

She gave the slightest of smiles. "Let's just say that your situation has afforded me a measure of amusement. I imagine that your attitude to women has changed a little over the past few days." If she only knew the half of it...but I was glad that she did not have the satisfaction.

She walked into the centre of the room. "Perhaps we should put it to the test. Would you like to go down on DeeDee again? She could tell us if there has been any improvement."

I knew that she was trying to rile me but, with great effort, I kept myself in check. "Just let me have the key and then our business together is concluded."

For a few seconds she did not move but then she slowly slipped the belt on her gown. It opened with a faint hiss leaving me to stare at her naked body.

So many thoughts went through my mind not least the many millions of men who would have given fortunes to trade places with me at that moment. The truth was that they would not have been disappointed.

She still had a body that would make most twenty year olds jealous. Her breasts were particularly beautiful. They would have sat perfectly in a pair of champagne saucers and the nipples were dark, neat, roundels with a cute uplift.

Her skin was flawless, a rich creamy colour suggestive of perfect health and the only surprise was her sex. She maintained a lush growth of dark curls which had an unnatural lustre.

She remained motionless fully aware of the effect she was having on me. Under other circumstances I would have been one of the millions but now I felt nothing but hatred.

She traced her fingertips over the flat plane of her toned stomach. "Perhaps if you were to ask me nicely I might let you go down on me. That would give you something to dream about for the rest of your life."

"Go to hell! I'd rather fuck a man!" "A curious attitude bearing in mind you haven't got the key yet." "I'm finished with your games. You can give it to me or I'll get someone else to remove it." "That would be a pity. The lock is very expensive, a one off-in fact, it would be a shame to destroy it." "Then give me the key. You can have it back and enjoy your little joke."

She half turned as if lost in thought. "It's not quite that simple now that you've insulted me."

She took a step away and turned to face me again. "You are going to please me...but first you are going to beg." "You are fucking deranged!" She ignored the insult and continued. "What do you know about 'The Music Page'?"

I was wrong footed by the question. 'The Music Page' was the current buzz. It was to be a newly commissioned television programme dealing with all aspects of the contemporary music industry. The theory was that it would be based on intelligent interviews and would eschew those who simply had something to plug. It was my dream made manifest and I was as intrigued as anyone as to who would front it.

I could not help myself. I wanted to know more. "I've heard as much or as little as anyone else." She smiled and turned to DeeDee. "Show him."

DeeDee picked up a sheath of papers and brought it over. The top sheet was a Certificate of Incorporation for 'Supramedia' the mysterious production company behind 'The Music Page'. The second sheet was a schematic showing a series of holding companies coming back to 'Ventura Records' Vetris's own label.

"It's your programme?" I would never have guessed it but I could see the logic. With her contacts the programme would achieve critical mass right from the off. She let the implications sink in before she continued. "Some of the biggest names in the industry have been mooted as the anchor for the show but, personally, I would prefer someone new, someone fresh. Now, you may be a little rough around the edges but you are a good journalist and you scrub up quite nicely. Are you prepared to demonstrate any other talents?"

If I had any personal integrity left I should have walked away but she knew my vanity would win out. She was offering the chance of a lifetime and, in my minds eye, I was already contemplating the lifestyle. "What would I have to do?"

She did not answer. There was a chaise lounge facing the mantel. It was a modern design, which obviously owed something to Corbusier, and she reclined upon it. As she did so her gown slipped off almost altogether and she slowly raised her knees.

I told myself that there could be worse prices to pay but still took an effort to swallow my pride. I moved in front of her signalling my obeisance and she allowed her legs to fall open.

I felt a strong urge to look over my shoulder, to see if DeeDee was watching, but I told myself that it made no difference. I started to bow to her when she brought me up short. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

For a moment I was at a loss but then understood that she wanted me to go through with the whole pantomime. "May I?" "May you what?" I squirmed inside and tried again. "May I lick you?" She smiled. "What would you like to lick?" She could see my discomfort at having to form the words and was enjoying it. "May I lick your pussy?" "How quaint, but that's not a word I like. Try again." My anger was rising and I tried to shock her. "May I lick your cunt?" In truth I hated the word, with all its Anglo-Saxon bluntness, and could not recall ever having used it before. It seemed so unnatural but far from being put out she twisted the knife. "But don't you find it beautiful? Make me believe you."

"May I lick your beautiful cunt?" In the wider world she was universally acclaimed and I was a nobody. As I said the words, albeit with forced sincerity, this seemed reinforced in some fashion. It was as if a switch had been tripped in my mind and all power of self determination had been stripped from me.

It may, perhaps, have been a method of self-hypnosis, a way to simply get through it, but as I brought my mouth to her sex I felt a sense of total abasement.

Whilst I may not have understood the dynamics she was fully attuned and I came to understand that this was a game that she had played out in a variety of ways many times before. "Worship me..."

Her sex was a beckoning cavern of darkness. The prominent labia were beautifully shaped, perfect twins pouting as if for a kiss. With my first touch they parted a little and her scent pervaded the air.

There was some feral quality, a uniqueness that echoed her free spirit. Ignoring my natural instincts I breathed deeply imprinting it on my memory. I played my tongue over her slicked inner lips and the intensity of it increased binding me to her until there was no escape.

I had my eyes closed but I knew, even without looking, that she was smiling and enjoying her dominion over me. Her taste was growing stronger moment by moment, a honeyed fullness counterpointed by a distinct tang that had my traitorous tongue craving for more.

As I pressed deeper within my nose was teased by dark curls which had been oiled to an incredibly silky softness. Under any other circumstances I would have felt revulsion but now I gently nuzzled drowning myself in her essence.

I hated her but I was falling further under her spell with every lick of my tongue. I was a groaning animal as I sucked at her and there, in the background, was the dulled but biting pain of denial.

Time was meaningless as I lost myself in her but I was drawn back to reality as she gently eased herself away from me. "I haven't forgotten that you insulted me. I'm afraid that there is still a price to pay..." I looked at her in confusion wondering what more she could want of me. "Get undressed."

Could it be that she wanted me to make love to her? My manhood swelled at the thought bringing instant punishment but there now beckoned the promise of imminent release and perhaps more.

She lounged casually watching me take off my clothes and then she got up herself. Such was her physical attraction that it was only now that I noticed that I was not the only one to disrobe. DeeDee was standing behind me gloriously naked with her clothes neatly folded over the chair.