tagFetishBukket Ch. 03

Bukket Ch. 03

byPoisonedEve©

Saturday dragged on endlessly. I kept the shop opened till 11 p.m. just to keep me busy. I would have probably kept it open longer, but my customers were getting more and more 'involved' with every passing hour. At the end it seemed like I was the only person present in the room who was not kissing or fondling somebody. Finally I gave up.

Sunday morning was even more intolerable. As I had no idea where I would be going, I could not even anticipate anything. I didn't know if I should be excited or afraid. I also didn't know what I should wear.

Finally it was the time to get dressed and go down. I put on a grey sweater and a dark blue skirt. Rob came five minutes after two. I got onto his car and he drove on without saying a word. Finally I asked,

"Where are we going?"

"Not very far."

That was all that he said. I asked him a couple of times more and then gave up. I would just have to wait and see. The car reached the seaside. Finally Rob parked in front of an apartment building facing the sea. He got down and went into the lobby. I followed him silently. We stepped into the elevator and he pressed the button for the top floor. As we came out onto the foyer there were three doors facing us. Rob knocked the one on the right side.

A man in a grey suit opened the door. We stepped inside.

It was a fabulous apartment. There were big windows facing the sea. It was tastefully furnished. We walked into a spacious living room with a balcony opening onto the sea. A man in his shirtsleeves was sitting on a sofa. He rose as we approached him. Both men shook hands with me and asked me to take a seat. I sat down on a couch facing the sofa.

"May I offer you something to drink, Mrs. Dalehood?" said the man in shirtsleeves.

"Evelyn, Please," said I. Then added, "and a glass of water would be nice."

He put down a glass of water on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa opposite to me.

"Well Mrs. Evelyn, thanks for..." he started.

"Only Evelyn will do," I interrupted. He looked at me curiously and then continued,

"As you wish. Anyway, thank you for coming down. Now if you have no objection, let us get straight to the point and save precious time." He continued without bothering to check if I actually had any objection, "Me and my colleague here are representatives of an organization which hosts adult shows." He paused and looked at me.

I looked back at him. I had not understood what he had wanted to mean. He read my expression correctly and added, "We are talking pornography here."

"Oh! Ok." I said.

"Recently we had been searching for women who would like to participate actively in our sex shows and we found you as a suitable candidate."

"Excuse me?" I blurted out. I was not sure I had heard him correctly.

He repeated the exact same sentence again.

This time I knew I had heard him correctly. My jaw dropped. I was speechless. Nobody spoke. All eyes were on me. Finally I blurted,

"What do you mean by that?"

"We would like you to take part in our show." He explained again.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I looked down at my hands on my lap and said in a tone which I hoped would sound firm, "I am afraid you are mistaken. I am not that type."

"I see," his voice was completely flat, "But we thought you were inclined towards some specific sexual fetishes."

"No, I am not!" My voice had gone one step higher. "I am a completely normal person with completely normal inclinations. Sexual or otherwise."

"So you deny having any kind of sexual fetishes?" His face was totally impassive.

"Absolutely." Now I had found the firmness in my voice. This charade has to be finished here and now.

"But these reports say otherwise." He said casually and picked up a folder from the table.

"Reports? What reports?" My confidence faltered as I looked at the printed sheets in the folder.

"Reports on you," he said, "Based on information we gathered over the last couple of weeks."

I looked at him incredulously. It did not cause any change on his facial expression. Finally I said, "You had been spying on me?"

"We were gathering information about you, yes."

Blood flew onto my face. I jumped up. "YOU WERE SPYING ON ME!" I was screaming now, "YOU CAN'T DO THAT! IT'S...IT'S ILLEGAL!"

He simply leaned back on the sofa and looked up calmly at me. The man in the grey suit spoke for the first time, "What is illegal?"

I looked at him and blurted, "This...this spying on me...gathering information about my personal life...this is illegal. You can't do this! This is not...permitted!"

"Tell me please, Madam," the man in grey suit said with a calm voice, "in which State does the law forbid a person from making enquiries about a fellow citizen?"

I did not know what to say.

"Please sit down, Mrs. Evelyn," said the man in shirtsleeves. "Apologies. Evelyn." He added as I looked at him.

I sat down after a moment of deliberation and drank water from the glass. The man in shirtsleeves continued, "So we were talking about the reports here. It seems that you had dated a number of guys before you met Mr. Alec Dalehood. You had physical relations with most of them. Two of them recall that you had confessed to them...during moments of intimacy...that you found it a big turn on when a man ejaculates on your face."

I sat like a statue. He continued calmly, "Once you also had a one night stand with the brother of the guy you were dating. He was a married man. You had made a condition before you allowed him to sleep with you. The condition was that he would have to cum in your mouth. But unfortunately...he did not manage that."

"How...how did you..?" I whispered.

"That is beside the point. The fact remains that you showed a very strong inclination towards cumshots. On another occasion...in a drunken state...you had confessed in front of a group of friends that the taste of semen was the only thing that can take you over the edge. Once again..."

"Stop! Stop right now!" I shouted. "I don't want any more of this. I have had enough of you!"

The man in the grey suit took a step forward and said, "Please calm down, Mrs. Dalehood. We are..."

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" I was on my feet again. Now nearly hysteric. "I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go. Please let me go! PLEASE!"

There was silence for a moment as I stood there panting and three pairs of eyes were watching me keenly. Then the man in the grey suit spoke,

"But surely, Evelyn, we are not holding you by force. You can walk out anytime you want. We will not stop you and we will not pursue you. In fact you will never ever hear from us again."

"Sit down, Evelyn." Rob had spoken for the first time. "Nobody is going to harm you."

I remained standing and refused to look at any of them. I was looking resolutely at the floor. I did not know what to think.

"Evelyn," said the man in shirtsleeves, "sometimes one has to face the unwanted truth. I believe that it would eventually help you if you would listen to our reports and our analyses about your personality."

"You have analyzed me?" I could not keep quite anymore.

"Certainly we have."

Who were these men? They were utterly professional. How on Earth could they find so much about me in two weeks?

Very deep down I was intrigued. I was both curious and afraid of what was yet to come. But somehow I found that I lacked the strength to walk out on these men. So I sat down again.

The man on the shirtsleeves continued as if there had been no interruption.

"So from these reports we can safely assume that you once had a very strong liking for cumshots. Till you were twenty two. Things changed after that. You moved away from your hometown and came to the city. When small town girls come to big cities, they usually tend to open up more in regard to sexuality. However, for you it was the exact opposite. Since you moved to this city twelve years ago, there had never been any reference...not a single reference till date...of you confessing or even talking about your special interests. One can say that you had grown out of your fetish."

He stopped and looked at me. I looked down. "Would you say that you had grown out of your fetish?" he asked softly.

"Preferences can change over time," I mumbled. "They changed for me."

"Was this change intentional?"

"No...I mean it just happened. All that I had done...or said earlier felt too cheap. It just happened over time."

"It was not planned?"

"No!" I said exasperatedly. "It was a natural progression!"

"Then maybe you could explain," he continued in the same flat voice, "why, after three years you advised your female roommate to give up her wild habits and turn into a 'good lady' so that she could be capable of finding a rich man to marry? A 'fat fish' was the term you used. You had also told her that these fat fishes only flirt with 'chicks' but when they marry, they marry the 'good ladies'."

I sat stock still. He looked up again at me and said, "One can safely assume that you had purposefully...deliberately...buried your desires in order to appear as a suitable bride for a rich man," he paused a little and said, "A feat that you eventually achieved. Alec Dalehood is a corporate lawyer. Is he not?"

I only nodded.

"You got married when you were twenty eight," he continued. "For six years you lived in this city as a single woman, having occasional relationships. Two of the people you dated during this period say that they found you to be a shy, demure and innocent girl. So one can say that your image makeover was complete. But they said something else too. Both of these guys claimed that you were stiff and rigid in bed. It seemed to them that you were almost afraid of the act. And Evelyn, both of them have confided that you could never be brought to an orgasm.

"I think we know the reason. Even though you had changed your habits and had actually started to believe in your image, somewhere deep down you knew what you needed to get that orgasm. And you knew that would not come. Naturally you were afraid and stiff and rigid."

My hands were shaking on my lap. A small part of my mind wanted to know why I was going through this humiliation in the hands of complete strangers. I could simply get up and leave. But I could not. And even if these guys were strangers, they knew everything about me.

"And then you married Mr. Alec Dalehood." He was looking at the papers in his hands. "Three years later he was seeing another woman. One year later you were separated. Marital failures are complicated business and I am sure there were many domestic issues involved in it, but at the core of it all was it not again your inhibitions? Nothing had changed and you were still rigid and stiff and knew that nothing would change. Now which man could put up with a woman who seemed to be afraid of sex even three years after marriage? Did you really blame him when he took a lover?"

It was not a question. He knew the answer. Finally he put down the folder onto the glass table and sat back on the sofa. He looked at me and said, "Now we have come to the final phase...I mean the current phase...from the time of your separation till today. For these two years you have lived alone running a bookstore. And there are two significant...incidents...which show everything one needs to see. First is your refusal to file for divorce and second is your abnormal hatred towards the customers who frequent your café.

"Why didn't you ask for divorce? You could get a nice settlement." I did not answer. "Okay I will try to answer myself. You did not file for it so that you could remain...even if only on records...the legal wife to an established lawyer. This is the title you wanted, didn't you? A rich man's wife? Well he did not protest, as he did not have to pay and did not matter to him in the least. He also might just be showing off his wedding ring wherever it matters. And you would like to show it off everywhere as the brightest crown to your lady-image.

"And that is why, Evelyn, you cannot bear it when we call you as 'Mrs. Dalehood'. Because Mrs. Dalehood does not go to porn stores, does not know what cumshots are and definitely does not make acquaintances with people like us. So it had to be only 'Evelyn'. You will never ever allow these activities to be associated with Mrs. Dalehood. Am I right?"

He did not get any answer. So he just shrugged and said, "Well it's your wish! And now to the other incident. You opened a café for booklovers and it turned into a lovers' nest. Nobody can say how these things happen, but this image has stuck. You did your best to avoid it. You had even hiked the prices to discourage the students from coming. But that did not work. And how you hated them! You saw them kissing and fondling and sometime outright fore playing right in front of your eyes. These people had a very active sex life. They, unlike you Evelyn, could enjoy orgasms. This shows that even as Mrs. Dalehood, you knew what you were. So you just sat there and hated them. And you knew that they knew it too. Many of them have actually guessed the reason. But then they had given you the worst possible treatment in return. They ignore you completely. And you know that.

"And when was the last time you had an orgasm, Evelyn? Not in the last twelve years. You really needed the taste of cum to push you over the edge. Since that had stopped, you were on the edge perpetually.

"You have lived in a state of self-imposed denial for twelve years.

"And now we are offering you a way out of it."

There was silence. I felt strangely naked. They had stripped me inside out. Even unconsciously my hands came up to cover my breasts.

I brought myself forcefully back to reality. These men will not say anything more. They are waiting for my response. I tried to speak but my voice was choked. I cleared my throat and said, "What type of show is this?"

"A bukkake show," was the simple answer.

It took me a few seconds to comprehend the situation. Then I realized that I was being asked to take part in a bukkake. I realized that my hands were ice cold.

"When is that?" I whispered looking at the table.

"A month away," he said. "And it is a special show. We will take you to the location. And you will have to stay in the location for three days."

"Three days?" I asked incredulously. The man in shirtsleeves looked at the man in grey suit. And this time it was he who answered,

"Yes. Three days. We can assure you that no bodily harm will be done to you during these three days. We can also assure that no part of your body or face will bear signs or marks. At the end of three days we will bring you back home.

"You will have to sign a contract. We will prepare a contract and take it to your home for you to sign."

I nodded, still looking at the table. Now the man in shirtsleeves sat forward in the sofa and said softly, "Evelyn..".

I looked up. He simply asked, "Yes or no?"

I wanted to scream, cry, shout. All I did was to hide my face in my hands. I sat like that for ages. Or maybe for seconds. I tried to collect my thoughts. Yes or no? It has to be my decision. Nobody will take this decision for me. Do I want it? Do I want to take part in a bukkake? Do I want to smell, touch, taste cum after so many years? Do I want to be covered, drenched, bathed in cum?

I lowered my hands from my face and looked at him. "Yes," I said.

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