Face (Sex, Power, Love) Ch. 26

Eric: Pussy Licking Kings

Gina laughed, "Why Claudia, how rude of you to speak that way about my Eric. He is my boyfriend, and ours is an exclusive relationship, at least for him. You know perfectly well that sweet morsel of man meat is mine. All mine. Yet right here in front of me, in front of my friends, you tell everybody that you are going to fuck my boyfriend's brains out? What a vulgar, presumptuous slut you are."

Gina and Ashley lounged on Ashley's sumptuous office divan to listen to Shyanne's weekly report on Claudia's progress. Claudia immediately interrupted, "I've been good. I obey. Now I get to fuck Eric's brains out." Shyanne jerked Claudia's choke chain to shut her up. Gina jerked Claudia's lust chain for kicks, "No you're not."

Claudia's scrambled brain could not process the joke. When the precious, promised toy was snatched away, she yowled like an old iron jail door screeching shut on rusty hinges. Ashley laughed, "Shyanne, your slave has offended Gina. I thought I told you to teach Claudia some manners."

Shyanne got the joke but did not laugh. She fretted that she might be in more trouble than Claudia. Who knew what these crazy bitches might do to her for kicks. Ashley told her to promise Claudia the free use of Eric. Didn't Gina know that? Shyanne was suspicious of Ashley's gorgeous, but peculiar, friend. Why had Ashley invited Gina to the office listen to her report?

The report was to be that Claudia was quickly becoming the utterly compliant slave—the muscle bound, silicone pumped, exhibition freak-girl...the sex toy—that Ashley had ordered. However, Claudia was losing her mind. She had become crazier and crazier and now she was almost out of control. The choke chain was not just for show. Claudia was nearly unrecognizable physically or mentally from the uptight plain Jane lawyer she had been just months earlier. She was wholly obsessed with sex and had lost any sense of propriety or control of her impulses, though Shyanne suspected Ashley might be pleased with that.

Claudia was now trim and muscular with huge silicone enhanced breasts. Claudia could not have been more pleased with her big new tits and her sexy new self. She had hated her breasts, those small, misshapen lumps, not even the same size.

When the bright promise of Claudia's childhood had fizzled into dismal adolescence, her private shame and disappointment with her body, and particularly with her breasts, had driven her to despair. As the other girls suddenly became beautiful young women, Claudia looked hopelessly in the mirror at her disappointing reflection and the aborted budding of her breasts. Being smarter than all the other kids did not matter anymore. Claudia had become just another extraneous loser, an ugly dork ignored in the background. The dumb pretty ones were ascendant. The things that had made her the alpha girl at ten didn't matter any more, and so the petulant Claudia forswore social competition entirely. As a defense, Claudia adopted a militantly asexual persona, contemptuous of the physical and disdainful of her more attractive inferiors. Claudia was an intensely unhappy, but arrogant child.

Now Claudia flaunted her perfect, synthetic breasts at every opportunity. She was big, brawny and bosomy. She looked like a female professional wrestler or a sexy cartoon super heroine, pop icons she once held in the lowest contempt. Now Claudia could not get enough of adoring her newly created image in the mirror while she played with her big store bought tits.

She masturbated at any opportunity. Claudia played with the rings and bejeweled studs piercing her nipples, labia, and tongue, distorting her splendid breasts, stretching her festooned pussy lips, and rolling her tongue ring around in her mouth as if sucking on candy. Left to her own devises Claudia would have spent her life admiring her new body in a full length mirror, playing with its many piercings, exploring the geography of flesh and fantasy—and masturbating, jerking off, delving deep into the obsessions of her new, improved self. Claudia suppressed memory of who she had been.

It was partly all the beating off and partly the hormones, but Claudia was becoming more than a little addled. She pestered Shyanne to take a cock, take anything, up her cunt, but Ashley had ordered Claudia's virginity be preserved to be sacrificed on Eric's cock. Shyanne was increasingly anxious about this. Only the promise that she would have Eric's cock had kept Claudia from reaching in and taking her own cherry. Still, Claudia was quickly losing all capacity for self-restraint. Shyanne locked Claudia in a chastity belt, which was only removed for supervised masturbation.

Shyanne had to tie Claudia's hands behind her back before she went to bed to protect the precious hymen during her restless sleep. Intense sex dreams and erotic nightmares racked her. She tossed and turned, and screamed and swore throughout the night. Shyanne was afraid intervene.

Shyanne started tying Claudia's hands after trying to wake Claudia from a fearsome nightmare. Claudia did not awake. Instead, she grabbed Shyanne, pulled her down into the bed and pinned her under her writhing body. Claudia drove her hips between Shyanne's thighs as if dreaming she were a male, and a rapist. Shyanne screamed and scratched to escape, but Claudia did not wake or relent. When Shyanne at last freed herself, she watched in terrified revulsion as Claudia struggled with her bed, grinding her hips into the emptiness of her ghostly nightmare victim/lover, until at last she collapsed into a narcotic stupor.

Now if Claudia's chilling ramblings woke Shyanne in the night, Shyanne would just stand by and watch. Claudia thrashed about as she reached spasms of multiple nocturnal orgasms, her arms bound, her hips grasping at the incorporeal but vital desires of dreams, and her tongue lapping the air as if the void were, what...a pussy...a cock? Shyanne found that the higher the pitch of Claudia's anguish, the deeper the peace of her sleep after the crescendo. Shyanne just watched and covered Claudia's sweat soaked body when quiet came. She let Claudia be, except to bind her hands each night and to tighten the chastity belt.

When Shyanne led her lunatic ward into Ashley's office, Claudia rushed Ashley, fought with her pierced tongue, and lisped, "Ashley, pwease, Boss, Mistwess, pwease, I need cock. I have been good. Look, see my big new tits, they have big gold wings, uh rings, in them, my pussy has three rings in it; I am ready; I am good. Even my clitty is getting bigger. I let Mistress Shyanne beat me; I obey; I eat pussy; I do everything. Please, please you promised I would get cock. I've been good. I obey. Now I get to fuck Eric's brains out." Claudia hugged herself, ran her hands over her body, and sucked her tongue ring in anguished lust.

Shyanne had dressed Claudia in tight blue jeans, high heel platform boots, and a skintight man's muscle shirt cut at the shoulders. And the choke chain. This was hardly standard office attire, but, well, it was causal Friday.

Claudia had always been a large, mannish woman. She was what some might have called a handsome woman, a jolie laide, if she had not hidden behind her aggressively asexual mask, grey on grey, an unadorned concrete fountain of barren intellectualism. Shyanne chose the boots to make this large woman appear even larger, the jeans to show off her thick thighs, and the stretchy cut off shirt to demonstrate her broad shoulders and developing hard body. The choke chain was just the right finishing touch of biker chic.

Claudia's mannish physique, jeans and muscle tee clashed with her immoderate, counterfeit breasts, the vamp heels and the bulging feminine mound in the tight denim triangle framed between her brawny thighs. Her nipple rings bulged as her big new breasts pulsed in rhythm with each pressured breath.

Casual Friday was not excuse enough for this obscene display. However, Claudia no longer cared about her colleagues or their contempt. She wanted to show off. She recently stopped hiding at work and started calling everyone into her office for regular meetings. Ashley advised the attorneys under Claudia's supervision to tolerate their eccentric boss, but also to ignore anything she said. Ashley decreed that they make a reasonable accommodation to Claudia's impairment, her unfortunate emotional instability. Maybe it was a phase; maybe she would get better. Ashley assured everyone she had sent Claudia to therapy. Of course, the ass kissers acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary, and they stopped telling Claudia jokes at the office. Shyanne cancelled this morning's meeting, and Claudia did not even notice.

Claudia stood in front of Ashley's desk wringing her hands. Claudia was stunned that Gina might deny her Eric's cock. She quickly looked back and forth from Gina to Ashley to Shyanne. Her watering eyes beseeched Ashley to grant the promised cock. Any semblance of decorum lost, Claudia bit her lip, grabbed her crotch, and panted, "You promised, I need Eric's cock."

Gina laughed again and continued, "Listen you insolent whore, you unnatural freak, that cock you want so badly is mine. If you want it so desperately, get on your knees at my feet and beg for it." Claudia was confused, "Mistress Ashley?"

Half suppressing a derisive snicker Ashley faked sympathy, "Poor thing, I can appreciate why you want Eric's cock so badly. It really is a lovely, big, thick cock, and it is attached to such a fetching boy. I've heard he's a great fuck. Did Shyanne promise it to you? Shyanne must have misunderstood. It is not hers to give. Sorry."

Claudia was desperate. She had been dreaming of that cock for weeks. Her once potent mind was unraveling into a tangle of insane desire. She did not grasp that Ashley was just fucking with her. Claudia's panicked glance darted frantically from Ashley to Gina to Shyanne. She moaned in incoherent despair.

Shyanne couldn't stand Claudia's pain. "I bet if you ask Gina nicely she will take pity on you. But show some manners. Be polite."

Claudia fell to her knees in front of Gina and bowed her head to the floor. She had met Gina in person only once and had unjustly dismissed her as a pretty, brainless tart. Claudia had been condescending as she always was with pretty women, but more so with Gina, since she was not just pretty, she was drop dead, cover girl gorgeous. Gina looked as if she had stepped right out of some dimwitted pop glamour magazine, yet another object of the old Claudia's wide-ranging scorn. Claudia had made no effort to conceal her contempt for the beauty-privileged princess.

Now Claudia looked up and begged. "Please Miss Gina; please can I use your Eric's cock, just once. You don't know how badly I need it. Please my pussy is clean; it is virgin. I have never had a cock in it and Shyanne said I couldn't ever have one until Eric fucks me. Mistress Ashley said Eric must take me first. Pity, yes pity, Mistress Gina please have pity on me." Claudia broke into desolate tears.

"Ok, since you asked so nicely, ok. In fact, we are going to pick my Eric up this afternoon. Just as Shyanne has been remaking you into something less nauseating, I have sent Eric to a finishing school to learn better manners. You can come along when we pick him up from school.

"We're planning very special event for next weekend. All of our best friends from around the world will be there. Ashley, thank you for all your work and please thank Anna. I am so exited, honored, and happy. Claudia, think of it as a coming out party for Eric, and a chance for me to show off my freshly remodeled boyfriend to all my like-minded girlfriends. We are going to show everybody what an authentic woman can make of a man—a perfect cunt-licking slave boy. Claudia, you can come to my party too. We will show you off as well—a perfect cunt-licking slave girl. If you are very, very good, I'll let you use my Eric right there at the party while everybody watches."

"Oh, thank you. I need cock so bad." Claudia hadn't the slightest concern that she would be used as a prop in a sex show. All she could think was, "I am going to get cock. I am going to get Eric's cock!" Claudia grabbed her crotch, and tried to masturbate right through the fabric of her jeans and through the leather of her chastity belt. She clenched into a writhing snarl of sexual frustration.

Even Ashley was taken aback. "Shyanne no further report is needed. I can see exactly what's going on. You have done an excellent job on this bitch, but I think we've pushed her a little too far. She is completely nuts. No more hormones. The psychological effects will slacken gradually. Keep her pumping iron to maintain the body. She will remain in this state of manic sexual obsession for a while, but it's time to ease off and let her settle into a more balance personality.

"Now get that freak her out of here. She's creeping me out. When she fucks Eric, when she whips the boy, she will have reached her furthest extent. Then we can let her recover the tolerable part of her former personality. After all, she is still my lawyer, and she was a very good one. Whipping Eric should revive her lawyerly instincts."

Claudia purred, "Whip? Ooh good I get to whip the cock."

"Shut up and get out." Gina dismissed the groveling Claudia a flick of her foot. "So Ashley, I hear business is good."

"Oh yeah, great. Things haven't been this good since the start of the Iraq war. That was a great little war, especially for Eric's specialties—trinkets, junk food, and crap. And all because Anna wanted to get a closer look at the museum in Baghdad. This is a great country. Anna just called her friend Laura, asked for a little constructive chaos in Iraq, and ta da! The museum was at Anna's disposal and we got a nice profitable war. I can't believe that Laura's dunce of spouse would ever have been of any use. Then Egypt, now war in Persia...great for business...great for Anna's project.

"I am glad there's profit in it, money is always good, but history is the real beneficiary. Anna knew the stuff she had been looking for was hidden in the Baghdad museum. The ancient remains of the cult of women-without-mercy had been safely buried for thousands of years under the long gone Sumer city of Ur until British archeologists dug it up in the British colonial moment. Sadly, the gutless Brits kept it secret. Worse, in their anti-colonial moment they left it all behind hidden in the Baghdad museum.

"But now the evidence is in responsible hands. What a bad move suppressing it and not bringing it all back to England. Did the English really think their pussy eating Arab king could survive in that barbaric place? Of course he was assassinated; of course the Bathists or something like them took over—modern Baghdad, what an inane, misogynist hellhole. Bathists, just what those savages deserved—commies without brains, malice without an ideological excuse.

"British intellectuals were such a bunch of limp wristed pussy suckers I would have thought they would have trumpeted the discovery of an ancient religion of female supremacy. I suppose it was all their mommy's fault. The problem was that Mummy outsourced the mommy work to the hired help. The fashionable socialites just didn't have the time to smack their own boys' bare white bottoms. Mommies just dropped the boys out of their cunts and turned them over to the hired help with orders to educate their precious sons with a belt.

"These overeducated, impoverished governesses reared Edwardian English aristocrats across their pretty knees with resentful zeal. These stern young women administered full doses of strict corporal punishment while Mummy was off having fun. The governesses dressed the boys in frilly panties, closely supervised their masturbation, and, at any sign off wickedness, or worse a sign of strength, paddled their bottoms. Each night before bed, the governess draped the future leader of the Empire over her feminine knee, lowered his lacy knickers, fingered his soft white bottom, and instructed him what it meant to be an English gentleman. I would have thought the belt would have taught the boys greater respect for women. But no, us girls just can't get no respect.

"Mummy should have schooled her boy herself at the authentic fount of wisdom—mommy's hot wet slit. Sorry, mama was just too busy. She was off sucking whatever cock tickled her fancy, while daddy was off licking rent-a-cunt or taking some other gentlemen's cock up his bum. High colonial English culture, it's no wonder the boys were confused.

"So the repressed archeologists suppressed their discoveries and then lost the evidence to the Bathists. The great grandson of the expedition's leader has eaten from my cunt. Anna let me use him once. She knows all the right people, the people with all the money. You know I am not into man whipping much myself, but I made that wimp pay a price for his great grandpa's stupidity. His one redeeming act was that Anna first learned about the old religion of female supremacy when he gave her an artifact great grandpapa had secreted out of Basra. He didn't know what the little effigy was, what it meant, but Anna guessed right. Now with more stuff from Egypt and soon Persia, Anna will have the all evidence."

Gina sighed, "That's great Ashley. But what good is it if Anna has to keep everything hidden? All that stuff was stolen. If she can't write about it, how can she 'change history'? Besides, it's just another goofy religion, just more hocus pocus, why should I care."

"First, and most importantly, Gina darling, my skeptical sweetie, care because I care. Now at least I know the truth of what actually happened; my knowledge of history has been set straight. Women once sat in the driver's seat while their slave boys pulled their chariots.

"You know that generally I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks or believes. But, if only for my own satisfaction, I would like to everybody to understand that female supremacy had its day in the sun in the Islamic-Christian-Judeo-Baal-Ishtar tradition. I would love for the preachers and the popes, the rabbis and the imams, to chew on that one. Imagine those uptight religious freaks facing this truth; imagine the gnawing anxiety chewing at their gonads. Besides, proving the historical reality of the cult of female supremacy is Anna's life project, and I love Anna. You should not be so selfish Gina."

"Ok Ashley, but what about the little matter of larceny, the little matter of antiquity export laws, or accusations of grave robbing, not to mention the international uproar over the looting of national museums all over the Middle East?"

"It can all be fixed. Like with just about anything, all it takes is a little imagination. What if Anna recovers the stolen artifacts from the thieves who stole them? She will be a hero. What if she recovers the pilfered goods from Islamic extremists who intended the cultural jewels to be used in secret, blasphemous, rituals? Wahabists and Al Qaeda, sex perverts and idolaters. Anna would be a hero."

"Ashley, this is way over the top. We both concluded long ago that these sorts of complicated large scale schemes are bound to fail, just on the principle of what can go wrong, will go wrong. The last time she tried something like this it was disaster. It is not worth the risk."

"Gina don't forget the principle that people will believe anything they want to believe, almost without regard to real evidence. Also, don't forget Anna's amazing connections. She is intimate with important people in the Bin Laden and Saudi royal families and among the lords of the western press. It is a complicated scheme, and the details are not complete, but Anna is capable of anything.

"Maybe this will ease my skeptical sweetie's mind. Anna just got a new set of artifacts from the Cairo museum, and she's reconsidering the whole thing. The occasional revolution can be such an opportunity. Anna says this stuff opens new doors. It seems renegades within ancient Egyptian royalty were secret Goddess cult devotees. Anna now thinks maybe the cult's claim to magic is real...Gina darling don't roll your eyes like that. I haven't gone soft in the head. I know religion is delusion. I don't buy any of it, even this one. But magic...magic is something different. Unlike religion, magic is more than bureaucracy and marketing. The claims of magic and miracles can be tested.