Descent Into Oral Servitude

She was in no hurry. She teased herself languidly and paused from time to time when she felt in danger of coming too quickly. Once or twice I tried to protest at the indignity but she simply smiled and continued to ignore me like some unruly child. Her whole body was glistening with a sheen of perspiration, even though the room itself was cool, and I hoped that it would soon be over not least because my jaw was aching badly. The tube held my teeth only an inch apart but with each passing minute the strain was increasing.

Eventually, she began to work her fingers a little deeper but, as she did so, a single drop of moisture formed at her knuckle. Even as I watched it grew more pendulous and then, with an audible plop, it dropped into the funnel. I imagined it slowly creeping downwards and I was overcome with impotent rage. She was using me as little more than a receptacle and there was nothing I could do about it. Finally, it reached the back of my throat and I swallowed reflexively. After that drops formed at regular intervals each, in turn, giving way to gravity and dropping into the funnel. My mouth was filled with the taste of her and I could not call on enough saliva to clear it. In the greater scheme of things it was not a lot of moisture but, trapped as I was, it seemed a never-ending flow.

“Do I taste sweet?”

Her voice was unsteady as she began to slowly increase the pace and, as she did so, the drops fell more quickly. I had never thought in terms of any one woman being wetter than another, least of all Karen, but I was in for a rude awakening.. She used one hand to hold herself open and then attacked herself with two fingers of the other. She was pushing them in and out of herself with almost unbelievable speed and the drips gave way to a steady trickle. She could hold back no longer and with a rising scream she started to come. As she did so she ejaculated. There could be no other word for it. She held herself close to the mouth of the funnel as squirts of moisture noisily hit the sides. I had to swallow hard or choke. Even when it was over she teased out a last few drops and ensured that I enjoyed the benefit.

Finally, she slid off of the bed and I tried to hurl another stream of invective but she just smiled at the dribbling nonsense that emerged from my gagged mouth. As I watched she picked up a fresh urine pouch and pulled off the soft rubber cap that acted as a seal on the attached length of plastic tubing then, thankfully, she removed the plastic funnel from my mouth. I waited impatiently for her to take out the ventilator so that I could really let her know what I thought but she simply adjusted it so that it was not so close to the back of my throat. What came next took me by surprise. She dropped the rubber cap into my mouth and I had to act quickly to prevent myself from swallowing it. I held it between my teeth and gums but my mouth was now filled with the taste of fresh rubber.

“This little exercise should help to strengthen your tongue and, with what I have in mind over the next few days, you’ll need all the strength at your disposal.”

I do not know what had come over her; I was seeing a vicious streak that had never manifested itself before. I desperately wanted to talk it out, to find out what was going on, but the ventilator still made conversation impossible.

She picked up the funnel again, pushed it into the tube of the fresh pouch, and then, to my amazement she put it between her legs. I had seen her using the toilet from time to time and I had never been comfortable with it but this was much worse. She half squatted in the middle of the bedroom and then relaxed her bladder. The pouch slowly began to fill and it was obvious that she was in need. By the time she had finished the bag was heavily swollen.

She stood upright and examined the contents but then, even more bizarrely, she pinched the tube closed and used the plastic hook on the bottom of the pouch to hang it from the beds wrought iron headboard.

“You might want to put the cap on your tongue.”

Only at that instant did I finally realize what she had in mind. For a second or two I waited for her to laugh, to confirm that it was a joke, but then I saw that she was in deadly earnest. I made a superhuman effort to try and twist my head away but it was futile. I screamed at her as she started to push the tube down through the centre of the ventilator..

“Are you ready?”

Through my panic I knew what I had to do. I desperately worked the rubber cap onto my tongue and pressed it up against the bottom of the tube as it emerged into my mouth.

“Good boy. You’ve got the idea.”

I tried to say no by shaking my head but if she was aware of the tiny movements she ignored them. She gently opened her finger and thumb and I watched, in horror, as the tubing began to fill.

“See you shortly.”

I gave another mute scream but she was already on the way out of the room. I remained still for a moment, contemplating my predicament, and then tried to push the cap back into the tube. A warm salty taste told me I was failing and so I pressed the cap against the opening as best I could and fought down the urge to vomit. I remained like that for the next few minutes and strained my ears to try and establish when Karen might come back to put me out of my misery.

It felt like hours, but in reality was probably no longer than ten minutes, before she finally returned and I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. I noticed that she had dressed again and reapplied her makeup, which struck me as odd, but my immediate concern was the pouch. She approached the bed and inspected it.

“Well done. Let’s see if you can keep it up for a couple of hours, I’ve got to go out.”

She had turned on her heel and gone before the shock had fully registered. For the next few seconds I lay perfectly still praying that she would come back in and laugh it off but the sound of the front door and then the distinctive roar of her Alfa Romeo shattered my hopes.

At first I found that, if I just relaxed, it was easy to keep the pressure applied but as time wore on my whole face started to ache and it required a conscious effort to hold on. I started counting in my head to try and get some idea of the passing of time but I did not have the discipline to stay on track. I guessed that an hour had passed, but Karen had said “a couple of hours” – what did that mean? My tongue felt thick in my mouth, my face was bathed in sweat, and I knew that I could not hold out a lot longer. The only thing that kept me going was the constant whirl of frantic thoughts as I tried to understand why my wife had suddenly turned into an outright sadist. Surely one illicit game of rugby was not enough in itself?

Perversely, I found that my mouth was dry and I was getting very thirsty. Every now and again my tongue made an involuntary swallowing motion and a tiny amount of salty fluid leeched into my mouth which only made things worse. As more, seemingly ever longer, minutes ticked by my anger grew and with it a determination that I would not give in. My thoughts became delirious and many of them centered on acts of revenge. Then, finally, I heard the car and the immediate sense of relief almost fooled me into relaxing.

Karen seemed in no hurry. I heard her moving around downstairs and then, at long last, I heard her footfalls on the stairs. When she walked in the room she had a determined look on her face and for a good half minute she just looked down at me as I begged her with my eyes to end my torment.

“I guess you are wondering what this is all about? I took a phone call at lunchtime, from Marcia. She told me all about your 30006 account and said she wanted to meet. This evening she explained just how deep in the shit you are. You might want to think about it over night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Chapter 3

She left me without another word and I felt a cold chill run through my whole body. Marcia had been my work colleague for a number of years, and, as Karen’s best friend, she was responsible for bringing us together. More recently, Marcia and I had both been up for promotion. The job of manager of the trading floor had become vacant and, as the star performers, we were the natural candidates. In terms of performance there was little to choose between us and so I decided to get an edge. The 30006 was an offshore account, under my control, for sheltering clients’ realized profits; each trader had something similar. The accounts were supposed to be passive, quietly earning interest until the funds could be repatriated, but I had started to gamble on some commodities futures, nothing too daring but enough to significantly increase the yield and, more importantly, the bottom line of my trading account. It meant that my performance was outstripping Marcia’s by a small, but telling fraction. In the event the strategy backfired badly. The directors said that I was indispensable as a trader and I received a significant pay increase but Marcia got the promotion. It did not matter to me that I might be earning more than her, I wanted the kudos.

As I lay there thinking about it I realized just how stupid I had been. The directors might look no higher than the bottom line but Marcia was bound to be curious about how the trick was worked and now she had access to the records.

I tried to shout, to bring Karen back and tell her I was sorry, but I knew that I had overstepped the mark in trying to get the better of her best friend. In matters pertaining to her friendships her attitude rivaled that of the cosa nostra. I knew, then, that she would not return and I had little choice but to surrender. Having reached my decision I still found it hard to give up but finally, like a tired swimmer yielding to the sea, I let my tongue relax and accepted the nauseating consequences.

The next morning she did not say a word as she removed the ventilator and my throat was so sore that I could not have spoken if I wanted to. Once again, when the nurse arrived, she turned up her nose and gave me an odd look as she cleaned me up. I then laid in frustrated anguish waiting for Karen to return from work so that we could talk it out.

I had a speech prepared but when she came in to me that evening she was in no mood to listen. She dropped her briefcase on the floor and, without any preamble, she took off her tights and panties.

“It’s been a hot day.”

I thought that she was heading for the shower but I was badly wrong. She hitched up her skirt and climbed onto the bed to straddle my face.

“Karen, enough is enough, you can’t make me do this.”

“I think you’ll find you’re mistaken. I want an orgasm now, just to get warmed up, and then, after dinner, you’ve got a long evening head of you.”

“And if I refuse?”

“It’s probably as well if you don’t…we have lots of empty pouches.”

It was galling to have to go through with it but I still needed her on my side. I had to know what Marcia now intended to do with the information at her disposal. Karen seemed to read my thoughts as she slid forward and nestled her sex over my mouth. Normally, if I went down on her, it was after she had bathed or showered but this was different. Her sex had been cooking all day in the confines of her tights and panties and her scent was rich, almost primordial. I put out my tongue and began to lick, tentatively at first, but then, encouraged by a low moan, more boldly.

“Do my clit…”

She shifted a fraction to accommodate me and I speared my tongue and began to lick at the smooth nubbin of flesh. It did not take long. Soon, her body was jerking like a badly controlled puppet and then she started to come. It was a brief, violent, climax and at its finish she rubbed herself over my face to gain the friction she wanted to see it to its end. I had still not recovered before she got off of the bed and left me alone.

Some time later she returned and demanded another, more leisurely, climax. I gave my best effort and then pleaded with her to discuss the situation in a civilized manner but she would not listen to reason.

“You’ve used me. You’ve used my friend. Well now it’s my turn to use you. Get your tongue ready.”

“Karen, enough! The things I’ve done are not that bad in the greater scheme of things. You are not going to use me again and we are going to talk about this.”

It took a great effort to assert myself whilst keeping my anger in check but Karen was in no mood for compromise. She fetched the ventilator. She let me shout myself hoarse before she forced it into my mouth and secured it at the back of my head. Five minutes later she returned from the bath room with a full pouch which she secured to the head of the bed before leaving me to my fate.

The next evening followed the same pattern. She demanded my immediate attention when she came in from the museum and then twice more later. I wanted to resist but I could not bear another night subjected to the tube. I had been brought so low that I found myself weighing the relative merits of swallowing it warm or cold.

The only plus point was the slow regaining of mobility. It says something in itself that I kept hidden from Karen the fact that I could now move both my arms and legs. The effort made me weak and I could still not close my fingers but I felt that it was coming. I would soon be in a position to reassert myself. If I needed confirmation of my progress it came the next morning. The nurse told me that it would be her last day and that I would be getting visits from a physiotherapist thereafter..

She cleaned me, fed me, and then, for the first time since starting to look after me, she started a conversation.

“I was discussing your case with some of my colleagues. It’s not for me to say, but I would guess that someone has been taking advantage of your handicap.”

I expected her to look sympathetic at this point but there was the slightest of smiles about her face.

“Anyway, your story seemed to strike a chord with two of our newest recruits at the agency. You see they were asked to quietly resign from their last jobs because there had been allegations of ‘conduct unbecoming’…”

I knew, for certain, even without being told that she was referring to Roselyn and Heather.

“…They are pretty pissed off. In their view some people are just not grateful.”

“So is there a point to this story?”

“The point is that when I confirmed your name they asked me if I would do them a little favour. They wanted you to have something to remember them by.”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, forget it.”

“I only wish I could. When they first asked me it seemed outrageous but the more consideration I gave it the more irresistible the idea became.”

As she spoke she removed her apron and began to unfasten the buttons at the front of uniform.

“If you so much as touch me I’ll sue the agency and prosecute you personally. You’ll never work in a caring profession again!”

The threat seemed to fall on deaf ears. She finished removing her uniform and stood for a moment in a matching set of sensible white bra and panties. It was only once she was undressed that I appreciated just how big she was. The bra strained to hold up her heavy pale white breasts over her full belly and her broad hips hinted at an equally fulsome behind.

“You see, when you’re my size, they’re not exactly queuing at the gate and they usually have to be drunk before they’ll go down on me.”

She reached behind her back to unfasten her bra and her breasts lolloped free. They were large, but they did not sag, with pale pink oval nipples which put me mind of cake icing.

“Is it worth jeopardizing your career just for this?”

“You know…I think it just might be.”

She pulled her pants down her legs and stepped out of them revealing a thick growth of dark hair framed by her ample thighs and the overhang of her belly.

“I’m warning you one last time. Stay away from me, I mean what I say.”

“So how are you going to prove it? And who’s going to believe you.”

Suddenly it became obvious. Roselyn and Heather wanted me to complain. I would come over as some sort of fantasist and they would be vindicated.

“Please, can’t you see that they’re just using you/”

“You know what, I don’t give a damn.”

She climbed onto the bed which slumped alarmingly with her added weight.

“Get off of me!”

She maneuvered herself clumsily so that she was facing down my body, straddling my face, and suddenly I was confronted with full horror of what was about to happen. Her buttocks were two huge fleshy pillows which met in a deep menacing cleft.

“Fuck off!”

“If there is one thing I object to it’s a foul mouth…”

“No!...Please!”

She brought her hands round to grab her cheeks and slowly pulled them apart. Her fingers sank deeply into the yielding flesh as she revealed the puckered brown-pink opening hidden in the depths and I felt my gorge rising. I filled my lungs ready to swear again but it was too late. She let herself relax and dropped down onto me letting go of her buttocks as she did so.

I was shrouded in a stifling darkness as her weight crushed my face. My nose was wedged tightly in the greasy valley and as I impulsively opened my mouth to breathe it was filled by a mass of damp hair.

The sensation of being sealed in and totally unable to breathe made me panic. My heart began to race and my body, seemingly beyond my control, jerked spasmodically. I began to feel light-headed and my vision was blurred. Just as I felt myself beginning to pass out she lifted herself slightly and I drew a desperate breath but then she settled once more. My head was embedded so deeply that her buttocks seemed to flow around the sides of my face, exerting an inexorable pressure.

Her pubis, squeezing against my mouth, was like a sponge and I could do nothing to escape the ever stronger taste of her arousal. At that point I would have licked her, I would have done anything, to escape the narrow prison created by her mounds of flesh but her sheer weight allowed me no movement. In the end her own desire got the better of her, She lifted herself up and back so that her sex hovered just above me.

“Eat me…”

I had to burrow with my tongue through the sodden mess of her pubic hair to latch onto her sex which was surprisingly demure. Even though she was clearly turned on it was a tight opening and I had to push hard in order to penetrate her. Once inside she was hot and wet and I hoped that this meant that she was close but I sensed that she was new to this and she was going to wring every ounce of pleasure from it.

“Yes, yes…yes.”

The words came from her in a panted whisper as I laboured minute after minute to try and get it over with but still she held back. Trickles of sweat were running down her inner thighs to mix with her nectar which was already coating my face. I felt totally disgusted. Here was I, a man who could pick and chose women, being forced to service someone that I would not favour with a second glance in the street. What was worse was the fact that she knew this and was reveling in it.

Finally, she was forced to give in to her own growing need and she lowered herself onto my face once more driving my tiring tongue even deeper. It was the trigger she needed. With an animal-like howl of triumph she started to come erupting even more moisture. I tried to retract my tongue but she used her muscles to hold me tightly inside until she was completely finished.

When she got up from me her face was red with exertion and decorated with a self-satisfied grin.

“You bitch…”

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you. You’re not finished yet, not by a long shot.”

She picked up the towel she had used on me earlier and wiped herself down. When she was finished she moved back towards the bed.

“I’m warning you. I’ll find you and so help me…!”