The General Ch. 01

Her presentation ran long. The audience of military men would have grown restless if not mesmerized by the curvaceous figure parading before them. "As you'll see on the next slide...," trailed from her red lips -- her intelligent words wasted on the deafness of distracted men. Locked levels beneath the ground in a room absent of décor, Melanie stood before the group as the only decoration.

"Please pass these around," she added, distributing hand-outs to the group of 10 beset to endure another long meeting. But it was the speaker, not the topic, commanding their attention today.

Melanie was a career girl -- a respected young member of a trusted agency. Tall and tender with buxom curves, her pin-up girl body belittled her business-like demeanor. Wide hips. A thick round ass. Full breasts hung heavily from her chest. Such bountiful curves accentuated her hourglass figure and hyper-sexualized an otherwise humble woman's appearance.

Despite her attempts at professionalism, their primal eyes demeaned her as she moved about the room. The swish of her fitted wool skirt on stockings. The undulation of her breasts as she walked. The men studied her carefully. She was beautiful -- almost doll-like! Her alabaster skin appeared silky and smooth. Wavy auburn hair spilled past her shoulders and stretched hungrily toward her C-cup breasts. Red lips sharply contrasted her pale complexion. Yet it was the cat-like appearance of her eyes -- brilliant and bright green -- that furthered her unspoken sexuality.

Her greatest admirer, a General, sat commandingly front and center. His soldiers aligned neatly behind him. The General was an intimidating character; silver-haired and grizzled with the lines of age and experience. He sat tall and still. His unmistakable presence subordinated everyone without a word. There were no wasted motions; no nods of assurance. Concise questions and commands were blurted abruptly against the echoes of bare walls. His intense stare fixated on the subject matter and then the voluptuous specimen trying to command his respect.

The General was fond of Melanie. He desired her. But the occasional involuntary twinge in his groin angered him over his lack of self control. Melanie could feel his stares, feeling almost nude while still fully clothed. She awkwardly buttoned her suit coat as he gazed heavily on her thin white blouse. No expression crossed the General's face -- nor did her obvious discomfort avert his stare.

The cat-and-mouse game had begun.

The mere turn of his head brought staff to the General's side. "Set the temperature to 85," he said quietly. The camouflage-clad soldier saluted him and abruptly left the room. Seemingly content with his request, the General returned his attention to the content. Melanie continued.

As moments passed, the room's humidity rose. Her nerves, the projector and her snug wool suit only compounded the problem. Soldiers fidgeted in their seats, the least disciplined fanning themselves in the back row. They were hot. But Melanie was sweltering! The sweat on her neck moistened the underside of her thick, long hair. She felt a distinct dampness beneath her breasts, under her arms and in the intimate folds of her panties.

Yet the General's face wasn't soiled by emotion. No sweat beaded his brow. His cheeks were not flush. He simply sat and observed his play thing until his first goal was achieved.

The General wickedly enjoyed Melanie's awkward self-awareness and the shameful indecision on her face. Her pale cheeks glowed red. Her voice was more breathy and exaggerated. Melanie was clearly uncomfortable ... yet she clung to her wool suit coat like a safety net. "But why," he pondered.

"Of all days not to wear a bra," she thought. Expecting to be neatly undercover, she allowed herself the hidden pleasure of going without today. Melanie enjoyed the contrast of silk and rough wool brushing against her thick nipples. It was her dirty little secret, heightening her sexual senses before the eyes of unwitting strangers. But for an audience to know her perversion -- especially an audience as astute and masculine as this one -- would be utter humiliation. Melanie's playful frivolousness quickly turned to regret as she humbly pondered the possibilities.

The General drank in her discomfort and patiently awaited her decent into his plan. "Such innocence and predictability," he thought. He loathed her weakness and the frailties that desiring such a woman implied.

Feeling nearly faint, Melanie couldn't delay the inevitable any longer. With a deep breath, staring blankly at the wall, she flipped open the buttons of her coat. Arching her back to dip the coat off her shoulders, the General's goal was realized. Melanie's breasts pressed firmly against the flimsy material and swayed side to side as she shimmied from her coat. More and more of her hourglass profile came into view, including the faint outline of her large, brown nipples. The soldiers stared wide-eyed at the erotic display.

"Oh my God," she thought, as she saw the stunned expressions of her all-male audience. Her breasts bounced and swayed freely as she shed her top layer.

Embarrassed, Melanie quickly turned her back to hang up her coat. "You can do this," she thought as she briefly collected her nerves. A deep breath and a turn brought her immediately back into control -- pending a small pause for her breasts to stop bouncing from the movement. Despite her predicament, Melanie pressed on.

A silent distraction, her heavy breasts bounced with every step or gesture. Each undulation shuttering mixed emotions of shame and exhibitionistic pleasure. Warm sensations radiated from her most intimate areas. She was daftly nervous, but slightly aroused. The masculine men stared wantonly at her body. Corny, over-exaggerated expressions were shared by the classless few. Such attention could've been fun ... anywhere else but here. Determined not to be dismissed as some mindless piece of meat, Melanie emphatically drove her points home.

The General was pleased by her resilience, but more so by her malleability.

The heat continued to rise in the small windowless room. Faint discoloration beneath her breasts and arms hinted at the moisture collecting on her skin. As her perspiration grew, the moisture clung the fabric to her skin, putting the most delicate curves of her upper body on full display. The teardrop shape of her large, natural breasts. The fold of skin where they lie heavily against her ribs. Little by little, her body betrayed her, stripping her bare before her audience. What Melanie didn't realize was how see-though the silk had become. Dark, circular outlines clearly defined her puffy nipples and the tiny belly button just above her skirt line.

Her breasts no longer swung gently across the sheer silk. Every shimmer in her tender breast flesh was obvious; the silk clinging to every move like a rodeo cowboy. The soldiers cleared their throats and licked their lips, trying to regain moisture past slow, ragged breaths. Melanie's unbridled femininity was almost palatable and being drunken in by a very captive audience. Yet Melanie continued on.

Overcompensating for her self-consciousness, Melanie commandingly pressed forward. Blocking the shameful, if not somewhat erotic, scenario from her mind, she worked diligently to make hard-hitting points to the team. Sweaty or not, she had her own goal to achieve. Confidently, she stepped into the crowd and knelt quickly to gather handouts near the General's feet.

The fitted wool skirt ascended her thighs with a swish. The sudden movement caused a cool gust of air to woft between Melanie's clinched thighs into the sweaty confines of her tight skirt. A pleasant surprise, she thought, until she sensed the tangy odor of her very sweaty womanhood. "Oh dear God no," she thought as a panicked look crossed her face, "can they smell me?"

The General, calmly spying a hint of lace atop her thigh-high stockings, broke character as the primal smell crossed his nostrils. He drew a deep, inhaling breath as a glassy, aroused look overtook his stare. Lustfully looking across the prone woman, he stared directly into her panicked eyes in full recognition of her predicament. Primal instincts clinched his manhood like an invisible glove, swelling his penis slightly in an urgent desire to erupt.

Melanie's soul sunk as she fought tears from welling into her eyes. She broke her gaze away from the General and quickly rose to distribute the papers, spreading her scent further across the room with each step.

The air in the room was already humid and thick. And it was now ripe with the smell of sweat and womanhood. Having menstruated the week before, the scent of her pussy was warm and musky and easily distinguished amidst the stale corporate air. She nearly died of embarrassment as the soldiers coughed and smirked, clearly recognizing the familiar pheromones. The room was visibly disturbed as soldiers shuffled aroused in their seats. Involuntarily, Melanie's pelvic muscles contracted, knowing how intimately these men now knew her.

Desperately needing to regain control, Melanie stepped before the old projector to highlight the document they just received. Engrossed in her thoughts, she discussed line by line, oblivious to the effects of the harsh white light on her now-translucent top. The thin, white material -- which already clung to her curves -- was all but invisible. Every detail of her magnificent upper body was on display. The General stared intently from the front row. He could see every bump that speckled the edges of her areola. The sacred circles of her thick, eraser-like teats were in clear view. Melanie appeared topless before the stunned team.

Supple and sublime, she was a stunning sight. But blinded by the glow, she could not see the wide-eyed expressions beset on the horny crowd's faces. Melanie could only hear the shuffling and screeching of chairs as her attendees squirmed through the pangs of arousal stabbing at their groins.

She herself was suffering a little. The sweat. The temperature. The heavy scent of her womanhood. The room wreaked of sex, which only furthered the moistening of her sweaty inner thighs. Completing her slide, Melanie stepped from the light to nine open-mouthed gazes. Assuming they were overwhelmed with the content, Melanie conceded. "Let's take a 15-minute break," she said. "Is that okay, General?" And nod and an abrupt "Yes" was his only response. The soldiers awkwardly rose to their feet, each concealing and adjusting their manhood.

Grabbing her purse, Melanie quickly scurried to the door, awkwardly tugging at the sweat-soaked shirt that clung tight to her body. Swinging open the door, a gust of cool air met Melanie's sweaty skin. A chill instantly shuddered up her spine! Melanie felt goosebumps raise on her skin and the instinctive hardening of her nipples beneath her shirt. Her puffy areolas stiffened and shrunk, protruding her knuckle-sized teats outward like buds against the damp material. It happened in an instant but played like slow motion to the engaged eyes of the General.

Melanie clumsily covered herself, pretending to scratch her collarbone, and quickly dipped out the door. The click of her heels echoed as she trotted down the empty hallway toward the ladies room.

Sinisterly admiring Melanie's timidness, embarrassment and weakness in the face of external stimuli, the General longed to see more.

A second look over his shoulder brought another soldier to the General's side. "Set the thermostat to 50 degrees," he commanded. A sharp salute and a "yes sir" sent the subordinate off to his task.

Safely in the ladies room, Melanie was stunned at her current state! In the mirror stood a near-naked woman, drenched in sweat and blotchy makeup. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she did her best to cool down. "Come on, Melanie, you can handle this," she whispered confidently.

Assessing the situation, she looked very slutty. Cringing at the thought of looking this way before the team, Melanie quickly went to work. She slinked out of her wet blouse and draped it over the vanity.

"PLEASE don't let anyone come through that door," she thought. Bare breasted and bent sharply over the sink, she splashed cool water across her chest and face. Clumsily patting herself dry -- her underarms and chest and beneath each breast -- she paused only for a moment at the sexual site in the mirror. The twinge in her panties reminded her of her other predicament.

Collecting her shirt, she dashed into the stall and quickly closed the door. A long zip at the hip and she slithered like a snake to escape the fitted wool skirt and wet panties that clung sticky to her crevices. Finally to her ankles, Melanie lowered her bare bottom to the toilet seat and spread her knees. Her musky aroma erupted upward as the distinct smell of her familiar womanhood crested her nostrils. The hybrid stench of sweat and secretions titillated her mind as she slid two fingers over her pussy, gently spreading the lips open then pinching and pulling them through her knuckles. No time for delight, Melanie resumed her business.

Producing a sealed towelette from her purse, Melanie unwrapped it and drug in firmly over her wet womanhood. A slight gasp crossed her lips as her finger dipped gently inside herself to collect the sticky wetness that collected there. The cool towelette was soothing and made her feel fresh and clean again. The finishing touch, a spritz of perfume on her thumb-sized patch of pubic hair, helped downplay her natural aroma. Pleased with herself, she rose, guiding her cheekie lace panties -- still moist -- back into their secret position. Her fitted skirt followed as she prayed her thin shirt had dried in the cool air. No such luck! Though not saturated, the thin silk still clung characteristically to her every curve as she put it back on. Her nipples, still semi-erect in the cool washroom, pressed visibly against the fabric. This would have to do.

A quick retouch of her makeup and Melanie scampered quickly down the hallway. Her breasts still unrestrained, she did her best to move quickly but confidently, meeting turned heads eye to eye with a winning smile. It was time to get back on her game!

Back at the room, everyone was again seated. Shame met her at the door as the heat and her faint musky scent escaped the opening. "Let's leave the door open for a bit," she stated. "Is that ok, General," she asked? He nodded in silence.

Still too warm for her suit coat, Melanie lasered in on her presentation. She ignored the pendulous movements of her breasts. She moved past the nonchalant stares at the clingy silk shirt. She must endure.

The familiar hum of the air conditioning gave her new hope. Yet she was painfully unaware of the next extreme it represented.

Moments passed as Melanie skillfully navigated her presentation. Her renewed focus and the steady cooling of the room rebuilt her confidence. But like a rollercoaster clanking up a steep incline, the General silently reveled in anticipation -- patiently awaiting the sharp fall ahead. Her eyes were bright; her smile was even brighter. The General could see pride in her eyes, which he could joyfully steal on a whim. The higher she rose, the more crushing the fall. Such power excited him ... especially over such a desirable victim. The General could feel a lingering tingle in his groin now and the thickening of his limp penis as it swelled against his uniform.

It was the game that excited him. His luscious new plaything simply made it more rewarding. Making others cower to his will was his specialty. And Melanie's unique combination of supple subjection and resilience only enamored him more. He would conquer her. And now, he was more intent than ever.

Amidst his hardening thoughts, the first signs of progress caught his eye.

The temperature in the room finally began to dip. The General smiled inwardly as Melanie unwittingly kneaded her hands, relieving the ache tormenting her cold knuckles. It would only be moments now.

Stepping into the crowd, just a few feet before the General, she fielded a question from a soldier in the back. Her fresh perfume, applied intimately in the ladies room, teased his nostrils. Her silk blouse, now dry and loose, draped nicely from the tips of her teardrop tits. The bottom of her blouse still tucked neatly into her fitted wool skirt, which flared out dramatically in a deadly grip to retain her broad, feminine hips. Melanie was all woman! She was all the things every primal urge demanded to fuck! And her soft flesh just fueled those guttural tendencies.

Every man in her life secretly envisioned gripping and squeezing her disproportionate, Jessica-Rabbit-like curves. Crushing her soft tits in their hands; squeezing and spreading handfuls of her tender ass meat as they splay her unrestrained onto their invading cocks; each fantasy more aggressive than the next. Every tantalizing vision seduced the blurry-eyed audience without her intent. Common sense and decency meant nothing! Despite kindness and intelligence, nature clearly dominated Melanie's place in society, spawning a line of jealous women and over-aggressive men. Drifting thoughts by the meeting-weary attendees kept their knees squirming in uncomfortable arousal -- another telltale behavior spied by the keen General.

Melanie drew a deep calming breath and set to answer the next question. But as the cool air rasped through her nostrils, another chill danced playfully up her spine. Melanie wiggled in discomfort, pendulating her breasts as tiny goosebumps littered her fair skin. An instant distraction -- for both Melanie and the men -- her gyration didn't go unnoticed as the chill again gripped her nipples, hardening them against the thin silk. Like icicles extending from the rooftops, her nipples stabbed outwardly, struggling to free themselves from her chilled flesh.

Twenty eyes widened across the room, but none more than Melanie's. "Oh my God," she thought! She had almost forgotten about being braless under her thin silk shirt. And as the General predicted, panic again flashed brilliantly across her green eyes. Wide, round and breathtaking, these flares of fear shined like a beacon to the experienced General's senses. Shamefully, Melanie again lowered her head and quickly retreated to retrieve her coat. Her back briefly turned to the audience, her breasts were again nestled within the warm confines of her wool suit. The cycle had been completed.

"How about we open the door again," she chuckled awkwardly? "Would that be ok, General?" Unable to restrain a devious smile, the General broke character. "Certainly," he bolstered in response. The General was now completely engaged.

Small, subtle nuances intrigued him. Her instinctual shame over her own sensuality; her body's extreme response to mild stimuli; but most importantly, Melanie's drastic shifts between helplessness and resolve; the General fascinated over her like a scientist with a new element.

A combination of curiosity and anger again stirred within the General. Melanie plagued his thoughts and stole control from his celebrated, well-disciplined behavior. He wanted to punish her! Painfully. Pleasurefully. Impractically. All met his perversions to explore her intimate limits -- an urge stronger than his own sexual gratification.

The General again summoned a soldier to his side, a young subordinate to carry out his will. "Remove her entrance from today's visitation log," he said quietly. "Execute the change personally and return here by 1800 hours." And away he went.

Meanwhile, Melanie closed her presentation, paraded one last time through the small room with her final handout. "This last document contains my hours, contact info and travel itinerary in case you have any questions," she said. While the soldiers' eyes trailed her heart-shaped bottom around the room, the General studied the document. Today ended her itinerary. Her prefix was "Ms." Her company wasn't "government" at all; she was a subcontractor. His calculating mind summed up one learning -- Melanie wouldn't be missed for days.