She passes by my table, laughing with another girl, and three college lads in tow. This is easy for me. And for her. I know her kind. She knows mine. As she passes all I do is keep my eyes, as lecherously as possible, on her incomparable plump legs. She notices. Of course, she notices. Far from being offended, however, she looks me in the eye, giggles mischievously, and shakes it for me. I smile slightly, but I keep right on looking. I’m not about to really acknowledge her as person. I’m going to acknowledge her as goddess, as omnipotent form, as deity incarnate. And that means a certain kind of telepathy, the kinetic transference of unfiltered lust. I’m an old pro at it. Sure enough, she laughs again and continues toward the bar saying;

‘…in your fucking dreams, granddad!’

Even the college boys laugh as they check out the pathetic old timer trying to be cool, hangin’ with the hotties.

-Get a life, old dude! I hear one say.

Don’t you worry, punk, I think to myself. I’ve got one, alright. I’ve got one.

It’s not much longer before she’s back, again leading her little band along the path to the dance floor that passes by my table. Again my eyes lock, steadfast, onto the spectacle of her legs and ass. As she shimmies past me, dimensions colliding in the cosmic shifts of her heavenly body, she bends down and whispers in my ear.

-You’re mine, granddad. You’re mine, aren’t you?

My eyes move for the first time to her face, which is now right here. I cannot speak or even nod, but my expression is unconditional surrender. She’s on familiar turf. It’s this way with every boy, but I’m the first that’s played the game by the rules. She can’t wait to get me alone. There follows another hour or so of breaking hearts and destroying lives with those luscious micro-mini upskirts, the delicious flesh of her lower body quaking criminally with every sexy step she takes on that vacuum packed dance floor. The rest of her evening will be devoted to religion.

Highest order of ritual. Everything in symbols of raw, uncompromising power. One doesn’t touch these legs; certainly not on one’s own volition. One contemplates them, meditates upon them, worships them. Her requirement is rigid, but just. I must continue to absorb the vision of those legs—her thighs within two inches of my face, her enchanted, feminine scent coursing through my brain—until it has filled my being to capacity. She is a benevolent goddess, and rewards me for my good behavior with a series of hard, violent face-slaps; infinitely merciful reminders of who she is, of the limitless power that resides within her. I am able to perceive that she is pleasantly surprised to find a servant with experience, one highly trained in obedience and practiced in the art of protocol. Of course, I am yet far from enlightenment. It falls beyond my comprehension, for example, that she chooses to inflict such harsh, and blessed punishment upon me as the price of obedience. I can only trust that if I stay the course, devoting my entire being to serving her, such higher spiritual understanding will eventually be revealed to me.

I bring her drinks even before she has asked for them, anticipating her every need. She drinks roughly half of each one, and then throws the rest of it in my face. She bludgeons me with her gorgeous, powerful knees, slaps me repeatedly, and spits in my face.

-Good fucking job, slut, she says cruelly. You’ve earned your reward. For the rest of the night, you will worship my body. It will probably drive you insane, but I won’t beat your worthless ass any further. Now you will learn the final lessons in attending to your goddess. Stand behind me, pay attention, and follow my instructions to the fucking T. Got it?

I nodded, and answered her correctly and properly.
-Yes, Your Highness.

She flopped onto the sofa on her belly, presenting me with a view of her unfathomable lower body that brought me to tears instantly.

-Are you crying? she asked.

-Yes, Your Highness. I’m sorry, Your Highness.

She only laughed.

-Aww, poor baby, she mocked. Come on, move in closer. Sniff the backs of my legs like a dog.

Sweet, plump, firm rolling hills of flesh, and I, caught now in the devil’s triangle. Nothing but legs, ass, and cunt in all directions. I sniffed away, deeply, maniacally, truly now a man possessed. A dog, panting, huffing, sniffing.

-Now, sniff between my ass cheeks. And don’t touch me!

Supreme difficulty here. Hard to move close, ever closer, without making contact. She knows it. She giggles madly, divinely. The fragrance, the vision, those shapes, god of the universe defining itself through her. Through her alone.

-Hold still, she says. Keep your nose right there.

It is infinitely hard. She farts in my face, and the laughter, the childish giggle of a thousand schoolgirls lilts from her throat. I inhale the delicious fumes down through my nostrils from whence they scatter, morphing into multitudes of psychic waves that etch her commandments into the stone of my brain.

-Again, she says, still laughing and releasing another savory, invisible cloud. Her farts act as some sort of spiritual nerve gas, altering my internal chemistry, commandeering my very thoughts, delivering me up as for the ultimate sacrifice. The tears continue as I breathe her in, consuming myself through perfect obedience.

-Again! Sniff good!

This one is longer, the most pungent of the three.

-Ahhhh, that’s the one I was waiting for, she says. Get all of it!

I sniff and sniff, inhaling every last molecule. Her giggling and the debilitating scent of her legs and ass and flatulence have already broken me. I am addicted now to her gas. I crave it, I beg for more, bawling uncontrollably between her fabulous thighs, looking straight into the paradise of her ass.

-That’s enough, pig. Now listen carefully to my instructions because they must be carried out perfectly. I want you to get up, run as fast as you can into that wall, face first, and then run straight back here and sniff my ass. And when you hit that wall, I want you to ram it HARD, with everything you’ve got. I want you to try and break every bone in your stupid face. Do you understand?

-Yes, Your Highness.

-Good. Now, no hands up. You keep those fucking hands down at your side. And when you get back here you get straight to my ass for some serious sniffing. But NO TOUCHING!

-Yes, Your Highness.

-OK, GO!

Nothing in me could believe what was happening, but suddenly I was charging full speed at the wall on the far side of the room. I recognized my action as being dangerous to me, and I understood full well the pain that would surely accompany my ramming of the unforgiving stucco surface. But all that mattered was the quality of my servitude. I would not fail to please her. Though my entire being struggled involuntarily to raise my hands up to soften the blow, I managed to control the impulses. I rammed my face straight on into the wall. The jolt broke my nose and sent my head spinning into nothingness. Everything went black as I fell back onto the floor. I tasted the blood streaming over my upper lip into my mouth as the darkness passed. All I could think was ‘Thank god I didn’t pass out so that I can finish carrying out her instructions.’ I half-stumbled, half-crawled back to the sofa, listening to her demented laughter all the way, and made the best time I could in getting back between her legs to the glorious orbs of that spectacular ass, perched so deliciously and beautifully on display. I was dizzy, woozy, seeing stars even, but somehow managed to maneuver my head into place and take a long, heady inhalation of her ass flesh.

Immediately, I realized that the only thing I was inhaling was my own blood. It rushed into my lungs fast and hard, as if pressurized. I started choking and coughing, my body heaving as blood supplanted breath. I was seized by fear, knowing my goddess was not going to be amused by this development.

-Hey! She snapped. What the fuck’re you doing? Get a hold of yourself, and stop coughing on my leg, you fucking pig!

I continued to struggle, unable to suppress the coughing and choking. I had inhaled a pretty decent lungful of blood.

-Drop your face down lower, she said. I want you to sniff my cunt and my ass!

I was slow to respond.

-Do it, goddamn you! Right now!

I summoned everything within me and held back the cough. I dropped down a few inches into the glory of the godhead. The holy trinity, where ass, cunt, and legs all join into one regal fortress. I quivered all over and again sucked air as hard as I could into my collapsed nostrils. No good. Even the joys of her soaking wet g-string were unable to penetrate and I again took on what was becoming the deadly red fluid.

-All right, pig, she said, back it up. Slide back 12 inches and meditate on my holy shrine until you’re able to carry out my instructions.

-Yes, Your Highness.

I heard her giggling again, lording it over me, reveling in her awesome power. I lay there, bleeding onto the sofa, knowing that my nose was finished. Any further sniffing was going to be out. She knew it too, and left me meditating on her incomprehensible body for only a few moments.

-OK, she said. That’s enough. I want you to go again. Ram your face into the wall again, just like before. But this time, when you return to me, you’ll only look at my ass, not smell it. Got it?

-Yes, Your Highness.

-OK, pig. GO!

Strange feelings this time. Flying at breakneck speed, somehow, across that room and knowing the outcome. That demonic laughter of hers; more than I can bear but here came the stop.

-Keep those hands down!

I heard her remind me of that just before the collision. It hurt much worse this time. Into the darkness again. Black, red, motionless.

-Get up! Hurry! Faster, faster!

Floating now, I think. Not conscious of getting back, but I am there. Bleeding, looking, crying. My crying tickles her the most.

-Don’t you just love the view, little pig? Can you say ‘thank you’ for the privilege of seeing my ass?

-T-Thank you, Your Highness.

It is all teary and garbled. The longer I look, the more irreparable the damage. My soul breaking in long, jagged cracks.

-OK, dinner time! She announces.

She swings her lower legs playfully, back and forth on either side of my battered head.

-Get your ass to the kitchen or wherever, and bring me back your cleaning supplies. Whatever you’ve got. Pledge, Toilet Duck, Drano, detergent, all that shit. Oh, and bug spray. Whatever kind of bug spray you’ve got in there. Grab the stuff quickly, and hurry back here and show them to me. Ready? GO!

I rush back with my arms full. She is a complete universe, lying there. So unspeakably gorgeous, beautiful, innocent, sexy and deadly. Though my head is pounding and I fear the worst from the chemical mixtures I horde, I retain my faith nonetheless. I know that she is not only teaching me the most advanced concepts of total surrender, but that she understands fully my deepest spiritual needs and knows with full clarity the path that I must walk in order to discover the answers for myself.

-How could it take you so fucking long to get back here with those? She asked. Do you have any idea how long you kept me waiting here? Is that what you think of me? That I’m so insignificant you can just leave my here waiting for you to take five minutes to do what you could have done in one?

-I’m sorry, Your Highness—

-I know you’re sorry. Sorry doesn’t cut it, asshole. I’m gonna need you to step it up, you got that?

-Yes, Your Highness.

-Good! You can start with a big swig from that laundry detergent. We need to clean you up, mister, especially on the inside. You’re still far from pure, you know. And I intend to wash the imperfections out of you by any means necessary. Now put the other shit down right here, drink down two capfuls, and then go stand at the end of the sofa and contemplate my ass. Go on, drink up!

Entering some other plane now. I obey her orders instantly, knowing full well that I am now drinking down my own death. What else could she have in mind? Would she call 911 on my behalf? It didn’t seem likely. I chugged my two capfuls while she watched me closely, her petite, adorable smile and compelling giggle driving me to an ever-deepening commitment. As I finished the second capful, she laughed and motioned me to the end of the couch with a cocky flick of her head. I moved behind her, still stunned by this same vision. Such perfection! Those thick, ripe legs, her incomparable ass and the mind-numbing, delicate pyramid of her lacy panties vanishing into that divine crack between the spheres brought me again to near hysterical weeping as I felt the beginnings of the chemical reaction starting down below.

-OK, pig, she laughed, we don’t have much time. Is that a letter opener over there?

-Yes, Your Highness.

-Go get it. But first, I want you to come back around here in front of me and stand where you can fall forward and slam your face into the corner of this coffee table. It looks pretty sharp. I think it’ll be good for you.

I took my place as directed.

-Oh, and pick up that Pledge first.

I obeyed.

-Now, I want you to spray the Pledge into your mouth until I say ‘stop,’ and then immediately after, I want you to fall like a fucking tree in the forest, face-first onto the corner of the coffee table. And NO HANDS! If you put your hands out, even a little, you’ll do it over again. Got it? Your full weight, free fall, and catch your face on the corner. THEN, I want you to get up and go get the letter opener. Are we clear?

-Yes, Your Highness, I cried.

The dream turning to nightmare.  I opened wide and pushed the button on the can.

-Ah-Ah, she said. Shake it first!

I dutifully shook the can thoroughly and sprayed. The lemon taste quickly gave way to a horrendous, chemical burning, which began to roar down my throat like a raging wildfire. I began to groan and cry even louder and through my tear-blurred eyes I looked into hers. She only smiled as my mouth filled, the harsh fluid flowing then down my chin and dribbling onto my chest.

-Very well, she said at last, Stop! Now quickly! Fall, giant evergreen, fall!

I dropped the can and taking perfect aim, hands firmly at my sides, fell with my full body weight, slamming my face into the sharp corner of the coffee table. It caught me in the lower part of my forehead, just above eye level, opening a deep gash that began pumping blood into the air like a geyser at Yellowstone. Once again, darkness was my reward as I drifted out of consciousness. I should have been completely out, but something in me, undoubtedly due to her divine magic, kept me coming quickly back to the task at hand.  My Supreme Ruler was laughing uncontrollably, hysterically.

-Omigod, she guffawed, you fucking moron, that was hilarious!  Now hurry up, pig! Get to the letter opener.

It had become a gruesome game show, some grotesque version of ‘Simon Says.’ The Devil alone knew where it would end. Actually, that’s not quite true. I knew by now where it would end. The question was ‘how.’ I crawled over to my desk, pulling myself up to a kneeling position to grab the letter opener.

-On your feet, she said threateningly.

I clung to the desk and pushed harder until, miraculously, I was standing. But I was wobbly in the extreme and the furious flow of blood from my head was causing me to lose my equilibrium.

-Now, she said, it’s time to get serious. Now, I want you to pick up the bug spray and spray it first all over your face until I say ‘stop,’ and then into your mouth until I say ‘stop.’ Then, you’re going to go stand behind me again, pray to my ass, and jam that letter opener as hard as you can into your right eye.

I shuddered, even as my cock became a steel girder pressing to escape from my pants.

-What’s the matter? Is there a problem?  Looks like you might have one growing down there in your fucking shorts!

-No, Your Highness, there’s no problem.

In wobbly fashion, I picked up the Raid.

-OK, then. Got the letter opener? OK, ready to spray…and GO!

I pushed the button.

-Shake the fucking can, asshole!! Don’t make me get up from this sofa!

-I’m so sorry, Your Highness.

I shook and sprayed. I had forgotten until now that this can of Raid was, of all things, hornet and wasp spray; ultra potent and pure liquid. It drenched my face and the severe burning began instantly. I began screaming bloody murder now as the pain was unbearable. Inside, my stomach was exploding from the Pledge and detergent mixture. Through it all, I heard her delicious giggling, exulting ever more deeply in her supreme authority. It seemed an eternity before she ordered me to re-direct the spray into my mouth. As the powerful toxic mix hit my tongue, my entire mouth seemed to erupt into flames. Even worse at the back of my throat and down my already singed esophagus. I continued to scream, dancing in place now like some possessed puppet on strings, my knees coming up high as my body began to react on its own to the abject pain and destruction. Soon, I had emptied the whole can. I was probably beyond hope now. Death would undoubtedly find me soon.

-Run, pig, run! She laughed as I continued my bizarre little dance of pain.

She watched me mirthfully for a few more excruciating moments as I hopped around, fell down, bounced back up, fell down, back up, bounced off the wall, down again, writhing like a serpent on fire. She lay there so calmly, so elegantly, sipping her drink and smoking her cigarette on the sofa. She was beauty and power personified.

-OK, stop, pig! Now, hurry! Get up, get up! Pray to my ass, and use the letter opener. Hurry up!

I dropped the can and crawled back to the end of the sofa, screaming in agony.

–Up! On your pathetic feet! Hurry!

I pulled myself to my feet.

-OK, she said, now pray. Pray to my ass.

I could only scream in pain, but if I ever needed a prayer, it was now. I tried to say something; please, help me, Ogod, I’m sorry, something like that. All that came was gibberish, but she loved it.

-Sorry I don’t speak ‘Pig,’ she laughed, but keep it up. It amuses me. Maybe the god of the pigs will come down from his heavenly sty and rescue you!

My prayer became a chanting in tongues, a service of ultimate devotion to this exquisite girl’s fat little ass; so young, and so fine. Her legs, plump as sausages, split my soul in half for the last time. The scene in my living room is more horrifying now than the most gruesome horror movie. I stand at the end of my sofa, holding a letter opener, and praying in tongues to her ass in an eerie mixture of guttural phonetics, screams and shrieks of pain and terror, and the tears of a million infants. She hardly even looks at me. She just laughs and flaunts her body.

-Enough, she snaps. Now, the letter opener. Go ahead. Use it.

She is yelling at me now above the piercing volume of my prayer.

-On my count of three, you’re to jam it deep into your eye, understand? You’re going to sacrifice that eye for me. I deserve much more, don’t I?

My answer is incoherent.

-DON’T I?

-Yes, Your Highness.

-You’re damn fucking right, I do! OK, here we go. One, two…

She waits for what seems like forever as pure hysteria explodes from my lips.

-THREE!

She turns her head back enough to see this. And, horror of horrors, I do it! Just like that. I thrust the sharp blade of the letter opener into my right eye with all my strength. The blood was already everywhere, and now came a doubling of it. It spurted from the hole that just seconds ago was my eye, and the terrifying wail of my screaming now didn’t even begin to communicate the pain I was in. As I began to fall forward, twitching like some gigantic, exposed nerve, I heard her commanding me to stay up.

-Don’t you dare go down, pig! Keep to your feet! Worship my ass with that one good eye! And pray, goddamn you! Keep praying!

Amazingly, I obeyed. I was completely aware that I had just put my own eye out, with a fucking letter opener, destroying it forever and causing my entire being to convulse in unimaginable agony, and yet I obeyed. Something in me actually forced me to obey her unconditionally. I can only assume that the pain and internal horror I was feeling were so intense that I just somehow shut down. Otherwise, I’m sure I would have been flopping around on the floor like a dying fish. I clutched the arm of the sofa and continued to scream out my incoherent prayers in louder, more blood-curdling screams than all the ones that had come before.

-OK, pig, OK. You’re almost there, she laughed. Now first, I want you to go to the kitchen and bring me the biggest, sharpest butcher knife in the house. Can you do that for me? Hmmm?

-Yes, Your Highness, I screamed at the top of my lungs.

-Good, she said. If you do, I’ll let you look at my ass some more.

Blood streaming in thick pools as I stumbled, fell, and crawled to the kitchen, as the thought of a few more moments in her presence inspired me to find some tiny, remaining shred of strength.  Somehow, I returned to her with a butcher knife that more than anything resembled a machete. I stood before her, groaning and crying loudly in abject agony. My whole head was a crimson pulp with blood flowing profusely from the remains of the one eye, the huge gash on my forehead, and the crushed remains of my nose. She smiled at me so arrogantly, so condescendingly, so obviously gleaning a fiendish and intense enjoyment from my self-demolition.

-All right, pig. I’m just about to cum all over your fucking sofa.  So, let’s get this over with. Pick up that Drano.

I did as she commanded.

-Kneel down here, open it, and hand it to me.

She sat up on the sofa, crossing her legs enticingly in front of me and causing my body to go into some kind of weird fibrillation. I knelt before her, struggled to remove the top and handed her the can. It was the granulated Drano, not the liquid, and it was like thick, desert sand in its consistency.

-Open wide, she laughed.

I obeyed, still emitting an endless swirl of involuntary ‘pain sounds.’

She sat over me, tilted my head back, and poured a half a can of the corrosive acid-powder down my throat.

-Now this is REALLY going to hurt, she said, but I need you to finish with perfect obedience. And you better swallow every last grain of this shit, you read me, pig?  I’m even going to help you to make sure you get through it. Now, when you’ve finished the Drano, take that fucking knife, go to your position, and hold it while you look at my ass. OK? Here we go! Go ahead, chew it up and swallow!

With that, she jerked me around, facing away from her, and felt her powerful, satin legs pressing against each side of my body as she held my head between her hands.  I began to chew and swallow, and everything took its toll at once. A universe of poison lava rising from the deep, flowing swiftly in the direction of my mouth. Before it could come up, though, she wrapped her arm firmly beneath my chin and applied a classic ‘sleeper’ hold on me, clamping my jaws shut as she pulled my head tightly in place up against her chest. With the other arm, she locked the sleeper hold in and with her hand, pinched my nostrils closed, giggling heartily at the spectacle to come. Then this gorgeous sex-pot closed her eyes delightfully, like some fairy tale princess or missionary angel, tucked her head down, resting her cheek against the top of my head, and held on for the wild ride.

With nothing being able to escape through my mouth or nose, disaster ensued. There is no way to tell you what kind of damage I had already sustained internally, but with my mouth now filling up with severely toxic vomit, there was only one place for it to go, and that was back into my lungs. I struggled with all my might to pry my jaws open and erupt, but she had all the leverage, and easily held my mouth closed up tight. It was as if depth charges were being detonated in my stomach, my throat, and now in my lungs as well.

-Swallow! she screamed, Swallow! I want it all to go down! All the way down!

Is it remotely possible there was still a part of me capable of obeying her? Summoning a will I didn’t know existed, I swallowed with all my remaining strength. I heard the sound of her laughter in my head now as my skull conducted it internally from her cheek. She clung to me like a vice and that whole mouthful of hazardous waste went back down; half lungs, half stomach. She held me tightly in place as my body bucked and kicked, writhing with electric shock waves of incalculable intensity. My lungs exploded into flames. I couldn’t believe how strong she was to hold my mouth and nose sealed shut during such convulsions. The pain in my broken nose was excruciating as she clipped it with her strong, youthful fingers.

At length, the convulsions softened enough to warrant her letting go of me. Now, of course, I violently threw up blood, bile, internal bodily tissue, puss, vomit, multi-colored chemical remains, pretty much whatever had ever been a part of me, but by now, the damage had been done. It was the most horrifying scene imaginable, beyond comprehension.

-Almost done, she laughed. Get your ass over to the end of the sofa and look at my ass! And take that knife with you!

I was too far gone to make it to my post. As a result, she had to drag me there by my hair and prop me up on my knees where I continued to puke, bleed, and scream like some hideous B-Movie monster, mutant beyond description from poisons, radiation and bomb blasts. I could barely make her out as she lay down again so gracefully on that sofa, her ass quivering gently as she settled into place. The sounds from my mouth were unholy, inhuman, otherworldly, and I can only imagine that the vision of me as a bloody pulp of a head, with my entire body now heaving inside out with ceaseless vomiting must have been incomprehensible.

-OK, pig, she said, still giggling, put the knife to your fucking throat. Do it now!

I obeyed as best I could.

-Now, it’s your choice, she said. The knife, or the chemicals. Do you have any idea what measure of kindness I’m showing you in giving you a choice of how you want to die? Do you!?

I gurgled out a pathetic ‘Yes, Your Highness.

-Because you see, pig-man, if you use the knife, you’ll be outta your fucking misery in a flash. But with the chemicals, you get to spend more time in my presence. But, like I said, it’s up to you. I don’t give a fucking rat’s ass how you die…as long as you die!

I knelt there, again beholding with my one good eye the marvel of her ass and legs. I screamed again, vomited again, bled some more; this was the form of my prayer. I felt the sharp blade against my throat and knew what must be done. I had one chance to continue in prayer for a short while longer. That settled, I let the knife drop to the floor.

-You know it’s illegal to have open alcohol containers on the beach, don’t you?

-You a cop? The fat one asks.

-No, I say. Actually, I’m an alien. So, why don’t you guys take me to your leader?

Instead, they took me to a party. At one of the nearby mansions overlooking the ocean, some lucky college kid’s parents had gone on vacation and left him to convert the place into rubble. He was well on his way. The place was teeming with party-goers and the fat girl, a rather severe-looking Arabian beauty named Kamilah, was cool enough to take me under her wing, introduce me around a bit, and fortify me with more bourbon as we got to know each other. She knew I was a sucker for big power-girls, at first by the way I continued to tease her jokingly, and conversely a little later by the way I began to fawn over her. I never leave any doubt in the mind of such a woman as to my desire to serve her. She was so hot she should have been illegal. It certainly should have been illegal for her to wear that skimpy bikini in public. To make matters worse, upon returning to the house, she had slipped back into her glossy white high heel pumps, which only served to send her already unhandle-able big girl sexual perfection soaring into realms of the unreal. For myself, I was damn glad I wasn’t in swim wear as the perennial hard-on Kamilah had given me would by now have ceased to be my own surreptitious possession, and would most likely have rendered me a bona fide party novelty as it made its presence known. That is, of course, if it hadn’t impaled somebody first.

Kamilah took great delight in the effect she was having on me, and I could feel her growing more comfortable in her dominance as she became more certain of my obedience. She tested me with a few simple orders as we mingled, getting her drinks, her snacks, her cigarettes, lighting the cigarettes; it didn’t take long. We snagged a fresh bottle of Jack and a couple of glasses from the kitchen and Kamilah led me up the regal stairway of this quite exceptional mansion into a super-swank, elegant guest bedroom. The room looked as if it had been prepared for a queen, with elaborate, expensive Victorian style furnishings, original artworks, a massive solid gold mirror, and an exquisite Persian rug tying it all together in the center. From either of the two windows you could see for miles out into the vast blue of the Pacific. I went to pour us drinks but Kamilah snatched the bottle from my hand and put it to her lips, downing a hefty mouthful and then passing it back to me. I followed suit and had barely set the bottle down on the end table when she shoved me forcefully down into the chair just behind me. She crawled onto me, straddled my lap, clasped my face forcefully between her hands and began to devour me with the most delicious, sloppy wet kisses I’d ever experienced. Her hot whiskied breath was a raging fire of pure lust, scorching my face and neck with unexpected power and sensual perfection. Her lips were so soft, so full, so delicious, I only hoped they would never again part from my own. She bit into my lower lip, at first playfully, then with increasing force and aggression.

My hands roamed freely over her fat, luscious body, trembling with agitation and excitement. She was divine. Her flesh was like crushed, silken velvet, the most incredibly sensual, SEXUAL sensation I’d ever felt with a woman. She wrapped her plump, gorgeous arms around my head, which began to drive me wild immediately as their imposing size and plush texture pressed through the sides of my face and straight into my brain. She continued to kiss me like a wild woman, licking, sucking, biting, as I said, devouring me. I was already desperately horny, literally beginning to implode as she worked her witchcraft on me.

She stepped down onto the floor, still bent over me, still tearing at my lips, which were now actually bleeding slightly from the assault of her teeth upon them, and at last released her grip on me. She looked into my eyes, giggled haughtily, and then suddenly snapped my head back with a jerk of my hair. She came closer, again breathing into my soul with her delicious warm breath.

-Tell me, big boy, she whispered. You strike me as the kind of man that’s in need of some serious discipline now and again, am I right?

I started to say something, but she put her index finger to my lips to silence me.

-Shhhhh, she said. You don’t have to answer. I already KNOW what kind of man you are. You’re the kind of man that just doesn’t feel ‘normal’ unless you’ve been punished for your transgressions. Mmmm-hmmmm.

She sensually licked the blood from my lip and swallowed it with near-orgiastic delight.

-Oh yes, she said. You’re a bad man, a VERY bad man. A man riddled with guilt. And you’ve just been waiting for big-ass Kamilah to come along and make it all better again. Mmmm? Yessss. Yes, I think I’m exactly right.

She licked the last streak of blood from my lips and smiled wickedly. Suddenly, the beautiful, playful woman had become transformed into something dark; a sublime, remorseless sexual powerhouse. A Satanic Angel if ever I had encountered one. Her voice became even softer and deeper.

-You taste GOOD, she whispered. You can tell a lot about a man by the taste of his…FLUIDS.

Her dark, rich brown eyes looked sternly into mine, possessed with some familiar but elusive quality of spiritual power. I shuddered inwardly, feeling the presence of something other-worldly at work within that gorgeous, Arabian soul. That look then dissolved into the knowing, sexy smile of the fun-loving hottie at the beach party, accompanied by the delicious sprightly giggle that signals a young woman’s awareness of her own Girl Power. She took another slug of the JD, and ordered me to light her a cigarette. As I did, the glorious movements of her big body were digging deep, touching nerve with every incomprehensible jiggle of her luscious bronzed flesh.

-I’m going to need you out of those clothes, she said, taking a deep drag off her cigarette.

I started for the buttons on my shirt, my fingers almost useless as they trembled with anticipation.

-Stand up, she said. I want to check out your bod.

I stood up and stripped quickly as Kamilah flaunted her surreal body in front of me, surveying my form top to bottom as she puffed sensually on her cigarette. When I had finished, she couldn’t help but crack a wry smile. As I stood before her in all my glory, my cock was reaching for her, stiffer than the flagpoles at city hall, and dripping pre-cum liberally in the true spirit of sexual conciliation. She reached down and wiped off a drop or two on the tip of her index finger, which she then artfully caressed with her marvelous lips, tonguing the sample around on her palette as a wine taster tests for confirmation of vintage.

-Mmmmm. Oh yes. You definitely taste good. Be a good boy and pour me a drink.

I poured her drink and turned to present it to her.

-Hold it for me a minute, she said.

She then turned and walked toward the door, her singularly phenomenal ass pounding from side to side like a wrecking ball with each powerful step she took. Watching those superb big legs shimmy as each beautifully heeled foot made solid, seismic contact with the floor caused critical malfunctions; circuitry and wiring, electrical processing units, speech centers. Steel cock overheated, trying to enlarge far beyond capacity, like sharp bone threatening to rip through flesh, some never before seen explosion impending. Kamilah locked the door, checked it twice, and, satisfied we were insulated here, turned and started back toward me.

Omigod. Same syndrome, different vision. The sound of those heels clacking at the hardwood before she reached rug again. Delicate, white shoes driven to ground by such massive weight and force. The physics of it don’t seem to work out. I spin out further. Her every gesture another bomb going off inside. All systems hit. Extensive damage. Beyond repair. Kamilah. With stern expression undulates back to me. Sees me broken. Takes the drink from my hand before it plunges earthward. Takes deep drag from cigarette. Blows it into comet-struck face. One short walk for a woman, she thinks, one giant devastation for Man-kind. She laughs.

-Open your mouth, mullet, she commands.

Everything is muddy inside, but I manage to obey. I open my mouth, and she drops her cigarette butt onto my tongue. Mouth is dry so it burns a bit longer than usual before mouth-moisture extinguishes it. An involuntary grunting noise issues forth from my throat and I am seized by a feeling of terror that tells me I’m lost. All control is hers. Consequences may be dire.

-Swallow it, fuck-brain, she says. Hurry up!

Somehow the butt goes down, but things are quickly worsening in here.

-See if you can guess who I am now, she says, giggling.

Sips her drink, sets it down on the chair, rears back and slaps the shit out of me. Like getting hit with a bowling ball.

-Snap out of it! She yells, Moonstruck.

I get it, and I know I want to say it: Cher. But everything’s broken down. Don’t know how, but connections are all severed. Desire won’t lead to resultant action. Willing won’t make body move. It fucking FLOATS in there. Cher, Cher, Cher. Goddammit. Not that it mattered anyway. The colors of her polka-dot bikini, the sounds of her heavy footfall on the Persian rug, the debilitating scent of her perfume, her exquisite flesh so near to me, and the divine sound of her voice, its words now fading into some alien language, the whole greater than the parts and I have become something else.

She laughs loudly at my ineptitude, slaps me harder. The jolt only scrambles things to the greater extreme.

-C’mon, motherfucker, that’s an easy one. Here, I’ll do it again.

She slaps me so hard this time that I fall to the floor.

-Snap out of it! There. Now I’ll ask you again. Guess who I am!

I’m down, distressed, and disoriented. The word’s floating around (in my head?) but I can’t grasp it. Cher…Cher… It’s no use. Kamilah is standing over me, laughing, pushing me to answer. Hopeless.

-OK, poor baby, she laughs. It’s too much for you. C’mon. Let’s give little baby his medicine before we put him to sleep.

She pulls me up by my hair and rips a thundering leg lift into my downturned face. The force of her gigantic thigh nearly decapitates me as it flips me over backwards in a full somersault with return trip to the floor. I screech in pain, clutching my head. The crushing blow has bloodied my nose and mouth, and I can’t tell what hurts worse, my face or my severely jarred head itself.

-Ouch! she laughs. That’s gonna leave a mark!

She glares down at her fallen prey.

-Get up, she says.

I try, but no chance.

-Too late, she says.  Oh well, you’re calling the shots.

Same routine. Picks me up again and slams that huge leg lift into the other side of my face. I go down hard, face first, and just past the edge of the rug; solid wood. Now there’s some serious blood and I start to flip on the floor. Mackerel outta water. Everything going black. Kamilah cracks up harder as she sees the blood from my now flattened face on her leg just above the knee.

-Aww, she mocks, poor little baby not so good fighting girls, hmmm? You going to fight back, or are you just going to lie there and bleed?

All I could do was spin out. Not much left, and she knew it.

-OK, little baby boy. Let’s take care of Mama real quick, and then go to beddie-bye.

With that, Kamilah pulled me by my hair out into the center of the floor and plopped down onto my face, smothering me with her exquisite, monstrous ass and riding me towards her own appropriation of transcendence.

-Keep your tongue in me if you can, pig-boy! she exclaimed. Let’s try to do a good job!

She had completely shut down my breathing and along with the other existing complications I was on my way elsewhere in a big hurry. Kamilah rode me until she burst into a delirious orgasm, cumming all over my bloody, disfigured face. She then reached forward and began to stroke my throbbing cock. I screamed in exultant rapture from beneath her, but nothing ushered forth except a low, indeterminate, muffled sound. It only took a couple of strokes before I exploded, showering huge gobs of cum onto my torse and onto the precious Persian rug. Kamilah laughed wildly at the prodigious amount of jizz she had just extracted from me, and remained seated upon my battered face until I was unconscious and near death from oxygen deprivation.

When I awakened, someone was slapping my face, trying to revive me and there was a crowd of people standing around. I looked up at the concerned faces hovering above me. Their voices were a mix of ‘how ya doin’s?’ and ‘what happened’s?’ and ‘are you alright’s?’

-Do you want us to call an ambulance? someone asked.

I looked above me, everything fuzzy, disconnected. But I saw clearly enough the face of the questioner. It was Kamilah. She smiled a bewitching, knowing smile down at me, a momento of our time together.

-No thanks, I muttered incoherently. I think I’ll be all right.

I stayed right there in that bedroom for the night, unfit to attempt the drive home. The next morning, the kid that lived there and a couple of others were having coffee and offered me a cup. They inspected me like I was a zoo animal, trying admirably to keep their giggling suppressed.

-Rough night, one of them said.

I nodded, feeling thoroughly embarrassed and after thanking them for the coffee, made my way back to my car. As I let it warm up, I reached into my shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. The cell phone number for a girl named Kamilah.

She laughed hauntingly as I dropped to my knees in radical obeisance, choking on the beginnings of incoherent sounds, garbled attempts to express the awe and the terror; the tears pouring down my face in reverent silence.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she giggled. “I didn’t know you were out here. I’ll go put something on.”

She started back through that thin doorway and I managed to force a desperate plea from my constricted throat.

“Nooo!” I cried. “Nooo!”

She stopped short to regard the worm she had instantaneously created, and her fat body jiggled in devastating little ripples.

“You want me to stay?” she asked teasingly. “You certainly have a funny way of showing it.”

Taunting me harder. Slight flurries of those dancing shapes. Her weight shifting from leg to leg. I can’t speak to communicate. I can only continue to choke on lost sounds and exclamations and bawl all the harder with infinite gratitude that I have found my way undeservedly to her feet. Man is not supposed to look directly into the face of god, and yet I have now seen that face by accident. A horrible accident that leaves me stranded somewhere between salvation and condemnation for all eternity. She is god, and as it is with the ark of her covenant, to touch her even slightly means certain and immediate death.

“Come closer,” she whispered. “Behold my regal flesh.” Out of control, I did my best, inching forward on my knees toward the magnificence of her lower body. Pointing to a spot midway up the inner part of her thigh she smiled and froze the action. I focused intently on the spot. I was within maybe 3 feet.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t go inside and cover up?” she teased. “You really don’t look so good.”

I shook my head as best I could and dribbled out a tearful; “No…please, no.”

“Well, it’s your funeral. Alright, then, come closer. I want your nose about 6 inches from this spot.”

With much effort, I made my way on my knees up close to her amazing, monstrous legs, and nearing that 6 inch point I started to vibrate uncontrollably. The goddess’s powerful presence was causing me to have some kind of seizure. I could hear her chuckling mirthfully as I tried to gauge the 6 inches and keep myself from gyrating right through the floor.

“Now, smell me,” she said. “Take a long, delicious lungful through your nose and know the power of my fragrance.”

I bristled even harder.

“But under no circumstances are you to make contact with me,” she added.

Staring directly into hell in the form of her marvelous thigh-flesh, I inhaled deeply and began my descent into the abyss. I had never imagined such ecstasy. To be able to behold such a spectacle, and the mind-altering intoxication of her indescribably lush, delicate scent; the whole thing overwhelmed me. I began to bawl uncontrollably now, trying to make my adoration known by chanting some sort of superlatives. In my mind I heard it; ‘Oh, my incomparable goddess! Thou art worthy of all praise and worship. Have mercy on me, a sinner.’ It all sounded right.

But it wasn’t. Now I heard her laughter becoming clear through my spiritual fog.

“What the hell was that?” she laughed. “Would you mind repeating that?”

Her deadly leg was still directly in front of me. She stamped her foot just slightly and that thigh flesh did a brief but lethal witch’s dance right before my eyes. I buckled badly from the sight of it. I thought I would go down for sure.

“Ah-ah-ahhhh,” she warned. “Let’s hear you speak in tongues again. Come on. Mama doesn’t have all day.”

Somehow I kept myself upright on my knees and tried to repeat my praises, but this time I heard them as I had really uttered them; nothing but indecipherable, gruesomely guttural gibberish accompanied by some random drooling and hacking that by all rights must have offended my dark ebony goddess considerably.

“I don’t know what that bullshit was supposed to be,” she said, still fighting off the giggles, “but I don’t think it sounded very respectful, do you?”

Bawling loudly, still inches from her leg, I did manage to get out a proper ‘I’m sorry’ before losing my equilibrium and toppling over onto the floor.

“Sorry?” she quipped. “Listen, douche bag, ALL men are fucking sorry. That doesn’t distinguish you in the fucking slightest. Now look, I already told you that I’m sorry you had to run into me like this. I didn’t mean for you to see me, and I wasn’t trying to destroy you. You’ve suffered severe trauma from only a few minutes in my presence. So I’m going back inside, I’m going to get dressed, and get ready to go out with a real man tonight. Now you run along while you can still find your way home.”

With that, she started for that side door and I lost it. My screams could have likely been heard as far away as Antarctica as my mind grasped the unthinkable reality of her absence. I begged her for all I was worth, trying so hard to articulate words that wouldn’t come in the throes of the emotional and spiritual devastation she had wrought within me. I simply lay on the floor in that strange, narrow hallway screaming ‘Please, NO!’ in every possible combination I could think of. Gazing helplessly up at her, my soul suffered ever more irreparable damage with each movement of her divine body. She looked down at me for a moment, and then snarled at me like some imperious jungle cat.

“You should be careful what you wish for,” she growled. “Because if you are really serious about worshiping me, I will allow it. But I want you to understand that it will cost you everything. Your very soul will be mine forever. My grace does not come cheap, little man. And few are those capable of paying the ultimate price.”

I scarcely heard let alone understood her words. I was far beyond caring about anything but her regal presence. Whatever the cost, I would pay. And more.  She closed the door and looked down at me condescendingly.

“Listen to me, and listen carefully,” she said. “If you are sincere, then I expect you to follow my commands in absolute obedience, do you understand?”

I understood, but speech was difficult. “Y-yes,” I stammered. “Yes, m-my goddess.”

“Alright. Now get your ass up onto your hands and knees and follow along after me as closely as you can.”

With that, she walked purposely down the hallway, securing each door until there was no way out of the corridor except for the staircase at the far end. Nose at her ass, I scurried along after her. When she had locked the last door, she turned to me and arrogantly stomped her foot down, again causing her entire lower body to go into the most delicious tremors of monstrous female ass and leg flesh imaginable. I whimpered awkwardly and then began again to wail like an infant.

“It’s too late for that shit now,” she said. “I gave you every chance to get out of here, but you wanted only religion. So shut up and let’s get down to the kind of discipline required by real religion.”

She turned to the side and displayed her ass to me in all its splendor.

“Same exercise. Come closer, and inhale.”

She watched me with her evil, sex-onic eyes, tearing me to pieces with every nuance of body and attitude. The presence of her fat gorgeous ass and those maleficent, deadly thighs again caused me to lose control. As I moved close to smell her I began to fear I might actually throw up from the anxiety.

“Don’t fuck this up, she warned.”

With the most extraordinary sight I had ever beheld only inches from my nose, I inhaled deeply. The sensation ripped through my soul like a buzz saw, and I felt my psyche raging in desperation as it sought to escape from my body.

“Don’t flinch!” She commanded. “Just hold your position.”

Despite her severity, she was obviously having childlike fun with me, becoming intoxicated herself by the totality of her control over me.

“Looks like somebody has some serious problems with their techniques of worship. Let’s go ahead and give you more practice.”

She pointed now to a part of her ass closer to the center, and turned slightly to position it directly in front of me. Confronted now with her rear thighs and her entire ass, I could no longer contain myself and began again to bawl helplessly. She paid no attention but only bade me move closer. At this point I began to process the heavenly scent of of her womanhood, both vaginal and anal. It commingled perfectly with what was now the familiar fragrance of her perfume and flesh.

“OK, she laughed,” “Go Time!”

With that inhalation, I was finished. I held my position just long enough to witness her ass jiggle in those small but devastating ripples born only of her natural movement. It broke me. I collapsed sideways into a more or less fetal position on the floor, eyes glued to my goddess’s body, and some approximation of god only knew what language sputtering out of my mouth in a steady stream of psychic and spiritual overload. My creator stood over me now, and opened up her arsenal of psychological torture.

“Louder,” she said. “I can’t hear you.”

I wailed and blathered louder and more wildly. Having no idea what I might even be trying to express through my concatenations I simply tried to achieve some degree of release. She now began more or less hitting poses for me, unbelievable poses showing off her massive tits, her torturous lower body, and that devil-girl face that struck terror into my heart with its singular, domineering beauty and sexuality.

“Louder,” she said again, dangling her tits over me.

I pushed harder, the gibberish gaining volume, the incoherence gaining further discord. I remember her eyes, those she-devil’s eyes, glaring down at me as I bellowed, filled with equal measures of mirth incalculable contempt. Then she hit another pose showcasing her legs.

“You know, all men can make a decent doggie sound,” she said. “But for some reason they never seem to make very good pig sounds. Have you ever noticed that?”

“Gurgle…garble…choke…gag…”

“Well,” she went on, “it seems to me that since men are pigs and not so much dogs, that they’d be better at the pig sounds, you see what I mean?”

“Gak..blubber blubber….gurgle…choke choke choke…”

“Mmmm, you may be right,” she laughed. “But anyway, I’ll go ahead and let you off easy. Let’s start you off as a stupid little dog. OK, Ready? Aaaaaaand…BARK!”

I was actually grateful that this command didn’t require the enunciation of words. I took off.

“Ruff, ruff. Bark bark bark…woof woof woof.”

“Louder!”

“RUFF! RUFF! RUFF! BARK! BARK! BARK!”

She turned again, and hit an ass pose, again jiggling the abundant flesh of her lower body enticingly.

“OK, doggie. Now stop barking and beg. Up on your hind quarters and beg. Beg for another sniff of my ass.”

I began whimpering instantly as her ass and legs continued to destroy me, but I couldn’t get to my knees. I kept trying to push myself up, by I was too disoriented. Whimpering loudly I kept pushing my hands against the floor to no avail. I’d come up a few inches, then lose my balance and collapse onto my back again, struggling like an overturned turtle. The goddess kept laughing.

“You see?” she chuckled, “This is why you need to enroll your ass in seminary or some shit. Get your damn rituals together. Well, if you’re not going to sit up and beg, then you know how it is. You don’t get what you don’t beg for.”

She turned away, giving me one more cosmic wiggle of her ass, and started to walk away. The vision of her in sublime motion like that intensified my howling., but I still couldn’t get to my knees. My supreme goddess had twisted my mind into a pretzel, and my body seemed to be having increasing trouble responding to its confused commands. She kept walking and I kept struggling. She stopped at a doorway down the hall and turned to look back at me.

“You’re of no use to me if you cannot follow simple orders. You’ll have to come back after you’ve had further religious training.”

She laughed and began to reach for the doorknob. The though of her leaving was intolerable. With some unknown reserve, I pushed myself up with everything I had. Miraculously, I managed to get to a kneeling position, and just as she was moving into the doorway, I began whimpering with the whole of my being. With my hands curled in front of me in begging position I let out a string of the most authentic doggie begging sounds any man ever offered to his goddess. Loudly and clearly my cries went up.

“Owwwww…ow-ow-owwww.. Whimper whimper whimper… owwwwwwwwwwwww…ow-ow-ow-ow-owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.”

Filled with eternal hope, I looked down that long narrow hallway and saw her looking back my way.

“You see what you can accomplish when you put your mind to it?” She said. “But you are on very thin ice, little man. You came this close to being left here to rot. Now if you’re really serious, and you want me to stay, let me hear you squeal like the worthless pig that you are.”

With that, she backed into the hallway again, but kept that side door open. I had never been so terrified. She glared at me with eyes of fire. I could see the severity in them even from a distance. Still perched on my knees, I began to squeal;

“oiiiiiiiiiiiiiink…oi-oi-oi-oiiiiiink! Squeeeeek…Squeek-squeek…”

I heard her laughing and looked down to see her almost doubled over and clapping her hands together with glee.

“You dumb-ass mother fucker!” She yelled. “Have you ever seen a pig sit up on its hind legs like a motherfucking dog?”

Oh, no. More problems.

“If that wasn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen, you’d be finished. But I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you just thought you were following protocol. Now, down on all fours and let’s hear that pig again, this time, looking like one!”

While she continued to observe me carefully, I fell to my hands and knees and let go.

“Squeeeeel, squeeeeel…Squeeeek, squeeeeeek…oink, oink, oink, oink…”

Then I began mixing in some pig snorts and food-grubbing sounds. Anything to please her.

“That’s actually pretty good,” she laughed. “But let’s hear it again, louder, and while you crawl around in circles down there.”

I complied, grunting, squeaking, oinking, and snorting. I crawled around in circles like a demented beast and the sounds of her further laughter rendered me assurance that, at the least, she was staying. She closed the door (thank god) and began to walk back toward me.

“Keep it up,” she said.

I crawled again, bellowing out my litany of pig-sounds.

About half way back to me, she called out.  “Duck!” she said. “Let’s hear you do a duck. Just sit still and quack.”

She continued toward me. I gave her my best quacks.

“Quack, quack….quack quack quack…quaaaack…quack, quack, quack.”

“That one’s not even a challenge,” she laughed. “Goose! Big ass, long-neck goose. GO!”

“HOOOONK! HONK HONK! HO-OOOOOOOOONK! HONK HONK!”

At that point she had returned, standing before me in all her majesty.

“Keep it up,” she laughed. “I like your goose!”

“HONK HONK HONK……HOOOOOOOOOOONK…HONK HONK HONK!!!”

Again, she flaunted her ass and legs in front of my face. She didn’t have to order me to smell. Her scent was so fucking hot that I simply inhaled deeply and began to cry serious tears between my on-going goose-honks. With every movement, her body kept quivering in all manner of exquisite movements in front of me.  Then, she began to call out different animals.

“Cat!”

I did my best job of meowing.

“Crow!” She shook her leg at me.

“Caw Caw Caw Caw Caw” amidst a torrent of tears.

“Chimpanzee!”

“Ooo-ooo-ah-ah-ah-ah….ooo-oo-oo…”

“Scratch your armpits and make a chimp face!”

I pressed my tongue up against my lower lip, crossed my eyes, and began scratching my armpits. She couldn’t stop laughing, turning her ass to my face again.

“Make the sounds to go with it…”

There I sat in front of my goddess; lower lip protruding, eyes crossed, scratching under my armpits and…

“oooo-oo-oo…ah-ah-ah-ah-”

All along she’s laughing at the abject humiliation she’s putting me through, and her body is no more than a foot from me with no permission to touch in any way. I felt everything beginning to slip. My vision was failing…getting dizzy. Shook my head…get the cobwebs out. She flashes her tits directly in front of my face.

“Wanna suck on one?”

No human words. Just insane chimpanzee gibberish.

“Eeeek, eeek. Oo-oo-oo-oo-ahh-ah-ah-ah…”

I almost touch, she pulls back.

“Look!”

She stomps her thigh down in front of my face again. I am no longer human.

“Snake!”

“Hiss…hisss…hisssssss.”

“Mouse!” She flaunts her upper thighs directly in front of my face. The intoxicating bouquet of her cunt juices is devouring brain cells.

“Squeeek, squeeek, squeeek.”

“Rat!” She commands, backing away slightly

(Deeper) “Squeek, Squeek, Squeek!”

A few others before she grows bored with the game.  Then, she turns her ass towards me again. That slight quiver. I’m in convulsions.

“OK, talk to me,” she says politely. “Just be yourself now and talk to me.”

I looked up at her ass, her gargantuan thighs, and the haughty expression on her face. She knew what I was going to say. As best I can remember, I began spewing the most incomprehensible stream of meaningless sounds ever produced by a human being. Everything was gakk, gurgle, blubber, choke, choke, choke, bla-mmaa-ramma-tapa-lo-sid-io.  Looking at me severely this time, she shook her ass at me again and I vomited all over myself. I don’t even know why. I suppose my mind had no other means of expressing the fact that it had died. The last thing I remember is looking down at my puke-covered body to the sound of her demonic laughter.

I panicked as I looked around the room. What the—? I was in a hospital bed. Groggily, I tried to focus my eyes. Something must be wrong. That thought came into my head. I tried to get up, but couldn’t move. I was strapped down tightly by my wrists and ankles. There was an i.v. in my right arm, and I appeared to be hooked up to god knew how many machines. I called out;

“Hey! Hello!! Can anybody hear me?”

There was a call button hanging from the guard rails on the side of my bed, but I couldn’t reach it. I kept yelling for help until finally a nurse came running into the room. Smiling, she stuck her head back outside the door.

“He’s come to! He’s awake!” She called out.

Presently, a doctor and two assistants came bolting through the door.

“Hello,” the doctor said. “We’ve sure been worried about you. How are you feeling?”

“A little woozy, I guess. But not bad. Where am I?”

They all stared at me strangely, and shook their heads.

“No change,” the doctor said.

“No change in what?” I asked.

“Can you understand me?” He asked.

“Yes, of course. What’s going on?”

Again, he just shook his head. “No change,” he said again. “Karen, you stay with him now. I want to know if he says anything coherent. Any recognizable word in any language, you call us. I’ll have something soft sent in for him to eat.”

“Yes, doctor.”

“Wait a minute, I protested. What are you talking about? Anything coherent? What the fuck is going on here?!”

The doctor gave me a pathetic, confused look and sat back down at my bedside. “I don’t know if you can understand me at all,” he said, “but you were found lying in the hallway of a hotel, babbling incoherent gibberish and convulsing as if you were having an attack of epilepsy. But we’ve tested you, and you simply aren’t epileptic. Nevertheless, you are unable to function in any normal way. Now that you’re conscious, we’re going to start doing some more tests on you to see if we can find out what is wrong. Try to rest and let’s hope things start coming back together soon.”

He smiled and started for the door.

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “Hey, come back. I need to go home. There’s nothing wrong with me!”

I saw the nurse shaking her head sadly. Then, I began to realize what was happening. I saw my big, black, beautiful goddess in my mind’s eye. I remembered, as if in a dream, the omnipotent power of her fat body. This was the curse for my apostasy, for my weakness, for being utterly incapable of obedience to her. I asked the nurse again where I was, and heard my utterance as it really sounded.

“Gurgle..gurgle, gak, blubber, blubber…choke, gak, gurgle gurgle gurgle….”

She emerged from the darkness in all her glory. I swallowed hard, holding back a string of reflex superlatives, and heard the clamoring behind the wall increase slightly. What a powerhouse. She must have weighed 325 lbs, and every ounce of it packed into an ungodly hourglass frame dripping with sexual intensity. She wore a dark green corset with delectable garter straps, (which I shuddered to realize had been lurking beneath her hot green dress all evening) a matching g-string, sheer black nylons and 5-inch black, patent leather heels. She had long, strawberry blonde hair, which she tied back into a hot ponytail and her beautiful, mysterious face was the very personification of danger. She glanced at me with a look that could kill.
–So, what do you think? She asked.
I looked at her huge, shapely thighs bulging from those stockings; stockings so sexy, so beautiful, so helpless to contain her.
–Omigod, was all I could utter.
She continued her severe gaze into my eyes and began to move toward me. I started to shake uncontrollably at the sight of her gorgeous legs moving in the direction of my face.

Just then, three young men came crawling into the room on hands and knees. They were completely naked, and each carried a black blindfold between his teeth.
–Ah, she said, the three little pigs! Have we been good pig-boys today?
They all nodded silently; adoring, yet terrified looks upon their faces. She looked back at me.
–Excuse me, she said
She walked back in the direction of their entrance as they crawled obediently right behind her, keeping their noses close to the back of her legs.
–I can’t believe it, but it looks like you maggots have kept your cages clean. OK, let’s go.
The three came scrambling out, smiles on their faces, and wagging their blindfolds. They followed her to an oddly constructed chair, which seemed to have been placed there for my viewing convenience, and mingled around her like hungry cats at feeding time. She stood there for a moment, taunting them with her ass and legs, obviously driving them mad and doing a similar number on me as well.
–Pig number 2, she finally said, take the chair position, and be fucking quick about it.
The excited young ‘piggie’ held up his blindfold, which she now tied firmly around his eyes.
–That’s all of my magnificence you get to see today, she said.
He crawled beneath the chair, and pushed open a trap door that had been built into the floor beneath it. When he had crawled in and seated himself with his head positioned just below the chair, Jessica retrieved a remote control device from the credenza and aimed it toward the trap door. The sides of the opening then clamped shut in all four directions around the young man’s torso, locking him firmly into place. The chair itself had a shiny metallic rim that opened in an oval shape like a toilet seat. When she sat down in it, the lucky young man’s face would obviously serve as her cushion. The other two remained dutifully at her feet, as she looked them over. Her eyes flitted back and forth between them.
–So, you worthless pigs, which one of you will be good, and which one of you will be bad?
With that she began to tease them mercilessly with her divine body. She flaunted her legs at them, so sexy, so provocative, and inches in front of their pining faces. You could see them struggling mightily to keep their composure. Then, she turned and displayed her gigantic, perfectly shaped ass at them, shaking it subtly for maximum effect. Somehow they both held on through that. I felt my cock pounding in my jeans and the wetness that came along with it. The two men were dripping streams of pre-cum on the floor and Jessica laughed wickedly at their predicament.
–Here we go again, she said, stomping her big leg down and jiggling her thigh flesh right in their faces.

At that point, one of them broke and let out a whimper. Without hesitation, Jessica reared back with her entire body weight and fired her massive knee into his face. He reeled, and screamed out as he flipped over twice before coming to rest flat on his face. She stalked over to him in a fury.
–Get your ass up!
He cried out, but couldn’t move. Jessica dragged him up to a kneeling position, reared back again, and kicked him with her foot this time, nearly decapitating him and sending blood spurting from a vicious cut made by the sharp pointed toe of her high heel. The poor bastard flipped head over heels clear across the room, screaming wildly from the deadly force of her blow. He had barely hit the ground before she was on him again like a jaguar. She jerked him up by the hair and slammed an unbelievable thigh lift into his face, which again sent the blood flying and snapped his head back so hard I was sure he’d be in traction…or worse. He flipped again in a series of somersaults and crashed against the wall before toppling motionless onto the floor.
–You ever disobey me again, you fucking disgusting pig, and I’ll have someone else living in your cage so fast it’ll make your goddamn head spin! Now get the fuck out of my sight and go to your cage! And don’t you even think about getting fed tonight!
But the piggie was out cold. He couldn’t move. Practically foaming at the mouth with anger, she hurled further verbal abuse at him as she actually dragged him out of the room by his hair, and tossed him aside like so much refuse.

Storming back to the chair, where her other charge awaited her obediently, she extended her long, ornate cigarette holder to me, and ordered me to light her a cigarette. The pack was on the table, and I quickly pulled one out, placed it gently into the holder, and presented it to her. I stood and lit it for her. Her dour look told me I should express my gratitude.
–Thank you, I said, for allowing me to light your cigarette.
–That’s good, she said. Maybe there’s hope for you after all.
She returned to the chair, took the young man’s blindfold, and tied it firmly in place.
–Do you know why I blindfold them? She asked. It’s because their eyes must be shielded from the acts of god as they experience them. Actually, they are not worthy to look upon me to begin with, but I am a kind a merciful goddess, and I allow them far more liberties than they deserve. When it comes to direct interaction, however, they are never allowed to look upon my sacred form.

Both blindfolded young men opened their mouths longingly, obviously hoping for their rewards. Jessica laughed haughtily at them, taking a luxurious drag from her cigarette. Then she sat down on the chair, smothering the young man’s face firmly and completely between her glorious ass cheeks.
–Let’s get to work, pig-boy!
He began to moan as he worked away with his tongue, trying to satisfy her before he suffocated to death. While this was happening, she barked orders impatiently to the other man who remained on his knees in front of her.
–To the left, idiot! A little more forward, dumb ass! To the right, worthless maggot!
Finally he sat before her in just the right position, his mouth still gaping open like a newborn bird awaiting its feeding. Jessica taunted him softly.
–You sure you want it? Hmm? Baby want his nectar?

The man was obviously not supposed to respond, but part of her game was to bait him as hard as possible, trying to get him to break. He held on, against the odds, I thought. Building his anticipation level to what must have been a frenzy, she finally leaned over him and dangled a long, thick string of sticky saliva down into his mouth.
–Don’t you dare swallow, she laughed. Not till I say.
She watched him curiously as the other man now began struggling mightily beneath her. Looking balefully down at her spittoon, she let go with another long, viscous strand, which he now appeared to have more difficulty keeping in his mouth without swallowing. All of which amused Jessica all the more.
–Hold on, pig! Hold on.
Then she took another long drag off her cigarette, and casually flicked a large section of ash into his mouth.
–Good? Isn’t that delectable, my worthless little pig?
She flicked again. She watched him squirm. She spit again. She watched him squirm.
–All right, she finally said. Down the hatch!
He swallowed gratefully, even as he gagged ever so slightly on the mixture.
–Keep it down, shit-brain. You know what’ll happen!
She alternated spit and ash a couple more times. Then, when she had finished the cigarette, she removed it from the holder and snuffed it out slowly, painfully, on his tongue.
–Swallow, cunt! she said.
As he finished off her cigarette butt, the other man was gyrating out of control. Jessica sat up just enough for him to catch half a breath as she reached under the chair to slap his face.
–Stop slobbering on my leg, you fucking pig! And be still!
She plopped back down, fully engulfing his face in ass and cunt. He began squirming hard again almost immediately.

At some length, Jessica achieved what appeared to be a quite perfunctory orgasm and ordered her little piggie-vibrator to drink down her discharge. She rose momentarily to look down at him, making sure he was swallowing, then dropped right back down onto his face.
–Your technique leaves much to be desired, she told him. Accordingly, you must pay a penance for your ineptitude. Maybe next time you’ll give me something I can use. For now, I’m afraid you must be deprived of breath even longer than usual.
Vibrator-piggie’s body then began to thrash in successive sharp spasms, but he was held fast in place, the weight of Jessica’s body wrenching his head and neck backwards in what was surely a most painful and dangerous position. By now, she had ceased the controlled salivating with piggie-ash tray and had begun to simply spit harshly and contemptuously onto his face and into his mouth at intervals of her chosing. He was also privileged to swallow down another cigarette, which I had dutifully prepared and lit for her. She kept this routine going for some thirty minutes more before becoming bored with her little game. At that point, she released her piggies, but not before sending them off with repeated hard bitch-slaps across their faces. So big, so powerful, she made the two of them sit there helplessly on their knees, taking her thunderous shots one after another until their faces were swollen and purple, their expressions racked with pain and tears. Remarkably, they never uttered a sound of complaint. Took their medicine with the utmost obedience and crawled off, battered and bruised, to their cages.

Jessica sat down in the chair next to me.
–Before I dismiss you, I will administer my first test of your resolve. All you have to do is look at me without uttering a peep. Got it?
I nodded and she had me light another cigarette for her, and serve her a drink. She shifted this way and that, crossed her legs this way and that; leg teasing me out of my wits. I couldn’t believe the way her fat flesh quivered with the slightest movements of her big, phenomenal body.

Just when I thought I would lose it, she informed me that my time was up.
–There’s just one thing I want to show you before you leave, she said. Follow me.
She took me into the pig sty, which, of course, was remarkably spic n’ span. In three tiny kennel cages, the three men were curled up tightly awaiting their mistress’s command. Jessica pointed to the one who had been punished.
–I almost threw this one out tonight, she said. It’s too bad for you. You would have taken his place.
Too bad, indeed.

I know what you’re thinking. How did I come to be sitting here watching this gorgeous, thundering hulk of a female wrecking machine beat some guy to a pulpy death? I’d like to say it took a little getting used to, but that wouldn’t quite be accurate. When we first met, I just thought it would be really kinky to watch her perform her act of ultra-domination on helpless men, and I’m sure I would have remained quite happy with that arrangement. In reality, however, things moved quickly beyond that. Far beyond that. Her real name is Cordelia Lemon, but she goes by Big Shelly. I met her at a newsstand, of all places, thumbing through a copy of Big Butt Magazine. All of a sudden, I look next to me, and there she was. All of 5’4″ and packing that awesome load.
-You like fat girls? she asked.
-Well, I-I—‘
-It’s OK, she said, lotsa guys like fat girls. Who do you like in there?
Shit. Now she totally had me on the spot. I couldn’t handle the whole thing, and just mumbled something incoherent, put the magazine back on the rack, and tried to move on.
-Hey! I’m talkin’ to you! She barked.
If it were anybody else, I would have never turned around, but my god, the girl was so fucking hot. A gorgeous, fat, black bitch with enough horsepower to reach Alpha Centauri by nightfall. I was fucking scared shitless of her, and she knew it. Still, I turned around to face her.
-I’m sorry, I said, I’m just sort of in a hurry. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I’m just not comfortable with—
-Hey, man, don’t worry about it. Relax, OK? It’s just that fat chicks like to know what turns a guy on about fat chicks.
That made sense. Still, I felt so weird even thinking about openly discussing something that, in my world, was more or less a secret obsession. I loved big girls, but only a couple of my friends knew about it, and even they certainly had no idea of the limits to which my obsession had risen. We talked for a few minutes and the whole time she was flashing that ungodly body at me; legs, cleavage, and that adorable face. She was far more than I could deal with. She asked me right then if I had ever actually experienced a big woman. I had dated a couple of girls that were on the large side, so I answered ‘yes.’
-Did they look like me? she asked, coy and smoldering.
-No, I admitted, they definitely didn’t.
-Were they dominant?
-Dominant?
-Yeah. Did they beat your ass into submission?
-No, they didn’t.
-I think you better come with me. I’m going to complete you.
The famous Jerry Maguire line, and I had no doubt that she could make it happen. Since I was helpless to resist her anyway, I dropped the idea of reasoning with myself.
-Anything you say, I shrugged.
For better or worse, my day now belonged to this magnificent young woman with the Mack truck body and the smokin’ hot attitude.

I took her to my apartment and found that she came exactly as advertised. She made minced meat out of me with a precision and ease that would have made Wonder Woman bow in reverence. Her physical strength, her sexual power, her banter, the way she ordered me around at will, slapping me, punching me, kicking me with her monolithic thighs and knees; my God, the whole thing was all so sexy and so frightening and so painful; an experience the likes of which I could have never imagined in my wildest fantasies. When she had finished beating me senseless and had cum all over my face, she looked down at me as I lay moaning on the floor.
-All right, muthafucka, she said, time to collect your reward. Look up here at my legs and let me see you explode, you pussy-ass bitch!
She stood straight over my head and as I looked upward between those massive, exquisite thighs I had only to put my fingers to my throbbing cock to blow huge gobs of cum all over the carpet. Big Shelly looked down at me, laughing, and seemed to be strangely pleased with me.
-You know what? You handle yourself pretty good, she said. I never give compliments to pigs, but you were different. You actually put yourself into it. Nothing you can do about the fact that it’s a mismatch. But your obedience was pretty good, and you can take some fuckin’ punishment, I’ll tell you that much. You actually got off on gettin’ your little funky ass kicked, didn’t you, bitch-boy?
Well, ‘got off’ was a strong phrase, as I wiped the blood from my lip and clenched at what was surely a cracked rib. But weathering the onslaught of her incomparable body, loosed upon me in the execution of her wrath, had indeed produced in me the most electric orgasm I had ever experienced.
-Maybe…a little, I said.
I rolled over on my side, still groaning away, astral projecting, unable to get up.
-Hey, she said, completely animated, how would you like to come with me tonight? I want to show you something that I think you’ll get a kick out of.
Is this the way it works? I thought. Kick the living shit out of me, and then we become friends? Whatever. If it kept me ogling those monster legs for the rest of the night, I didn’t much care what she had in mind. I was in.

I picked her up about 7:30. She was dressed to kill in a skintight black mini-dress and 5” acrylic high heels. I could scarcely keep my eyes on the road as I obsessively stared at her awesome crossed legs, so close now, in the seat next to me. Hotter than a fucking pistol.
-So, where are we going? I asked.
-You’re one lucky muthafucka, she said. Light me.
I flicked my lighter and drank in her impossibly regal, sensual bearing as she took a deep drag off her cigarette.
-You’re gonna get to watch Big Shelly in action.
-In action?
-That’s right. You’re getting the rare privilege of watching while I put a certain wimpy bi-atch out of commission for a few days. I’ve decided a little voyeurism is just what the doctor ordered for you.
-You’re kidding, I said.
-Nope. Hey look, punishing wimps is what I do. I want you to be a part of it. Besides, I know how much it’ll turn you on. This guy’s a real candy-ass.
I’d only known her a few hours, but I already knew there was no point in contesting her will. I was going to watch Big Shelly in action, and that’s all there was to it.

She directed us to an office at the rear of a small industrial complex. It was a little two-man operation, a Graphic Design company, run by a couple of young guys trying to get established in corporate America. Only one was still there when we arrived. He was hunched in front of a computer when we walked in, and I could tell right away that he was confused by my presence.
-Yo, Tony, Shelly said, Whassup? All work and no play again?
-Who’s he?
-This is my new friend, Jack. I call him Jack-Off. He’s going to watch tonight.
-What? Watch? What are you talking about?
-Just what I said. He’s going to watch, and it’s going to be a turn-on for both of us.
Tony retained a look of skepticism, but apparently knew what I knew, which was that we were doing what Shelly said. End of discussion. She moved around behind him at his workstation and taunted him with some heavy breathing and delicious little giggles into his ear. Within seconds he was up, locking the front door, hanging the ‘Closed’ sign, and leading us into the small break room in the back of the office.

-Sit down over there, Shelly said to me, pointing towards a folding chair.
I sat down and without further ado she began working her spell. She snapped her fingers at Tony, which was his signal to strip. He was out of his clothes in a flash, still obviously nervous at my presence. She snapped her fingers again and he dropped obediently to his knees. A third snap and he began crawling around her slowly, sniffing at the flesh of her divine legs in dog-like fashion.
-That’s a good dog, Shelly said. But I don’t want to see any signs of arousal, so watch it!
Tony was pretty strong, I thought. He actually survived sniffing around her ass and around to the sides of her mammoth legs. But when he got to the front, it was too much. He stared at the sweeping, luxurious expanse of her upper thighs, that glorious cunt so close, just beneath the hem of her dress and he started to shake. Laughing, she reached down and hoisted the skirt up above her hips revealing her entire unfathomable lower body clad in nothing but a skimpy thong bottom.
-Closer, she whispered.
Tony moved forward and in such close proximity to her devastating columns of leg, he broke into a fit of quiet whimpering.
-You know, Tony, she said patiently, making noise is against the rules, and crying—even whimpering—is definitely against the rules. You know what has to be done, don’t you?

As she said that, the poor bastard broke into tears, sobbing inconsolably. Shelly left him there on his knees, crying while she turned away to slip her dress up over her head and off. Her very movements made Tony whimper more intensely. At one point he turned to look at me, his expression one of hope that maybe I could help. I wasn’t about to move. She stalked arrogantly back over in front of him, her high heels clacking deliciously on the linoleum floor. She hit a few hot poses, showing off her legs and ass to him and really lording her absolute power over him with her wicked, sexy expressions. Then she turned her ass right up into his face and told him he could kiss it if he could be absolutely silent for three whole seconds.
-Are you going to be a good boy?
Tony nodded and fought back the tears.
-Give us the count, Jack-Off, she said.
I began. One…two… Before I could get to three she had shifted her body weight ever so slightly, causing her ass and thighs to jiggle delightfully within just a few inches of Tony’s face. He lost it. He burst into tears, which I found embarrassing on the one hand, and ridiculously hot on the other. Tony’s cock was standing in rapt attention now, and I had to admit that my own was pressing hard against the confining bonds of my blue jeans. What happened next was so bizarre and horrifying that I felt as if I had fallen into an impossible nightmare, a nightmare from which I could never awaken.

Big Shelly became infuriated with Tony’s insolence.
-Bastard! She screamed as she turned on him.
She snatched him by his hair and slammed a massive knee bash straight into his face. It was as if a fucking train had hit him. He flew backwards, head over heels, and then grabbed his head, writhing in pain.
-Get up, she commanded, standing over him.
He struggled mightily to oblige her, and though he probably could have made it to his feet, it was going too slowly for Big Shelly.
-All right then, she said, if you won’t get up, then stay the fuck down!
With that she lifted him up just high enough to launch another big thigh, this one into his mid-section. Tony cried out once, then made a kind of pathetic little squeaking noise. I had never heard such a sound as a response to pain before, but it was definitely a sign that something REALLY hurt. He collapsed to the floor, gyrating strangely and I realized she must have knocked the wind out of him. Sure enough, he began gasping helplessly for air.
-Get your ass up! Shelly screamed, hovering above him triumphantly.
To his credit, Tony really tried, but it was no use.
-Your last chance, dip-shit, she said.
His hands pushed helplessly against the floor, but could barely raise him up a few more inches.
-Fine, Shelly said, it’s your funeral.
Who knew those words would turn out to be so prophetic? She lifted him again and fired another knee into the same spot just below the chest. Again, Tony squeaked, only louder this time, and as he collapsed forward, trembling violently, he threw up in front of himself just as he hit the floor. I looked on, utterly stunned by what I was seeing. With just a three precision blows, Tony boy was just about through. But things were only beginning to get ugly.

Tony was writhing wildly now, squirming violently in his own vomit.
-What the hell is this? Shelly barked. Is that what you think, that you can just fucking puke right in front of me? Did I tell you you could puke? Did I, you fucking pig?
Tony was helpless. I doubt if he even understood the question, but even if he did, there was no chance of his answering her. His face was turning blue from lack of air and that second huge bomb of a knee blast made sure he wasn’t breathing in more any time soon.
-Fine, Shelly said, if you’re going to be an obstinate fuck, I’ll be happy to treat you like one. Now you clean this shit up, muthafucka!
She shoved his face right down into the vomit, screaming at him to eat it. Because he was still in seizure from trying to get his breath back, he couldn’t even put his tongue to the floor. Shelly continued to rub his face around in it, holding him by the hair, intermittently pausing to stomp down on the back of his head with one of her super-sharp stiletto heels. Then she jerked him back up by his hair and glared down into his face.
-Who’s your Mama, bitch? she taunted. You better say it, chump-stain! Say it, or I’m really gonna fuck your ass up!
He tried, but all that was coming out of his mouth was the next painful, pathetic gasp for air.

With that, Shelly really opened up on him. Severe, hard punches, endless pounding from her massive legs, the most ungodly verbal abuse and one powerful slap across the face after another. I could see that he was in bad shape. His face was a wash of blood, and with her continued kicks to his body, he had never recovered his breathing. Beneath the blood, I could see that his face had turned the color of eggplant. It was at that point I began to fear that she might actually be killing him. Finally, Tony went down like a sack of fertilizer from a knee bash to the temple. He twitched a little, and then lay there motionless as Shelly yelled at him again and again to get up. She shook him, kicked him, dragged him, spit in his face, and finally threw a planter of water at him. Nothing. She looked over at me, a devilish look in her eyes.
-He couldn’t be dead, could he? she asked.
-Of course, he could! I said. What’s wrong with you? We’ve got to get out of here.
-Yeah, I guess you’re right, she said.
She looked down at his broken body, then reached down and turned him face up. Smiling maniacally, she took a position over him and performed a giant Dumbo-Drop with her full body weight onto his head. And that was when this weird thing snapped in Big Shelly’s head. I could see it in her face as she rolled off of him, scarcely able to contain herself as she scurried to do it again. Bam! Another, again on his head.
-What are you doing? I screamed. We’ve gotta get outta here!
She wouldn’t stop. It was as if she had been possessed. Booom! She sprung up again and thrust herself backwards, plummeting downward like a meteor. This time there was a strange noise. As Shelly got up, I could see right away that Tony’s head had been crushed; I mean literally crushed. She had actually fractured the dude’s skull. I couldn’t believe my terrified eyes. His dead eyes bulged from their sockets, staring at me accusingly, and blood gushed from his mouth and nose in a full-on crimson river. I’ll never forget the look on Shelly’s face as she stood over him like some beautiful, massive vulture; her eyes glistening with the excitement of a new found discovery, the erotic rush that came with the kill.

Somehow I got her to leave that night before disaster struck. As it turned out, Tony’s partner came back to the office just a little while after we left and discovered the body. It was quite a story on the evening news. From that moment on, I’ve been Big Shelly’s slave and accomplice. I can’t believe how many guys she finds that are into our whole trip. Big Women, Big Beatings, and Voyeurism. It’s a magical combination. And though she always carries things too far and brings us far too close to getting caught, I have to admit that life with her is beyond exciting; It’s a fucking thrill ride I never want to come down from. At first I tried to tame things a little bit, suggesting that she stay more focused on domination than cold-blooded murder. But, what can I say? The bitch loves to kill, and I’m damn sure not going anywhere without her. And when she wraps those python legs around some poor mullet’s head and pops it like a fucking cork, I still get wetter than ever. A lot of times she lets me jerk off while she’s beating some guy’s ass. Well, actually that’s reserved for days when I’ve been extremely good to her, but the longer I’m with her the more I’m learning how to do that. My life is all about pleasing Big Shelly, and about being as creative as possible about getting rid of human remains. It’s a work in progress, but I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I’m the only man in the world Shelly would rather have alive than dead. And that’s saying something.

Epilogue:
As I drove us away from the apartment building, trying to go fast enough to escape, but slow enough not to be conspicuous, I could scarcely contain my frustration. This was the first body we’d left behind since that very first time with Tony. Since then, we always disposed of the bodies ourselves. It was the best way to be sure we’d covered our tracks.
-Well, we’ve done it now, I said. The guy’s mangled body still on the floor of his apartment so we can’t get rid of it, and on top of that, God knows how many people probably saw us leaving. Why do you always have to cut it so close? Baby, we’re gonna end up in prison for the rest of our lives if you don’t start learning to quit while we’re ahead.
-You know, I’ve been thinking, she said calmly. From now on, I don’t want to have to sweat this shit any more. So I’m gonna have you get rid of the bodies on your own. That way, I won’t be connected with this whole ‘getaway’ thing. It always ruins my high. And if you feel I’m not giving you enough time for that, then we’ll bring separate cars.
-Excuse me?
-Excuse you? How ‘bout if I just add you to the fucking list of corpses, you butt-face, shit-brain muthafucka?
-I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, how the fuck am I going to get rid of ‘em by myself? And besides, you promised that this poor schlep was the last one.
-Heh Heh. Yeah, I guess I did, didn’t I? Well, who knows? Maybe he will be, after all. Maybe the urge’ll go away.
Yeah, I thought, and maybe no swallows in Capistrano this year.

—————————-

(Many thanks to the Ultra-Hot Babydoll for the visual aids in this post. Luv ya, girl!)

We caught a couple of gringo slurs from a low life or two, but on the whole it wasn’t nearly as rank as I had expected. And we had scarcely scanned the room when I saw her. My boys knew it right away too, because I’m into much bigger chicks than they are. Not that they don’t like some bodacious booty, but me, I like ‘em packing some serious meat. She honed in on me right away too, smelling perhaps a decent little payday from the way my eyes must have lit up. I ordered us drinks and spoke to her in my best broken Spanish. She got a kick out of my efforts and for my part, I found her throaty and quite genuine laughter to be an instant turn-on. She wasn’t huge, but she was definitely a plumper, probably 5’ 7” and around 195 lbs. She wore an ungodly short, tight black dress and a pair of skyscraper acrylic slip-on heels. Divine. Her legs were thick, shapely, and powerful, her ass big and bad, and her torso was solid but soft. Best of all, she smelled like a million bucks. Her perfume and whatever botanical extracted whatever-it-was flowed into my brain like some fantasy garden bouquet in the midst of this god-forsaken little cross-town landfill.

Her name was Soledad, which I always thought was a beautiful name, but took too much effort to pronounce properly. I asked her if I could just call her ‘Sol’ for short. She said that ‘Sol,’ because it was Spanish for ‘sun,’ wasn’t appropriate. She was dark, she said.
-My hair is dark, my clothes are dark, I work nights, and my life is dark. My name should belong to the night. Instead of ‘Sol,’ call me ‘Luna,’ instead. For ‘Moon.’
-Ah, I protested, but in English, ‘Sol’ is spelled S-O-U-L and would translate back into Spanish as ‘Alma.’ Wouldn’t you rather be Alma than Luna?
She eyed me curiously, with a sudden change of expression that was as sinister as it was breathtakingly beautiful.
-OK, muchacho. You can call me ‘Alma,’ but it will cost you an extra $20.00.
-That’s pretty steep, I said. It’s only a name.
She beamed celestially.
-You don’t think I’m worth it?
I looked her over again as she raised one leg up to a 45 degree angle, planting her foot against the bar behind her. Her expression was pure predator.
-Yeah, I said, I’ll bet you are worth it. But I’m just a poor American boy who believes in watching his step. So, let’s stick with Luna. And that was it. It was Luna from then on.

My bros were all over the place by now. One was already gone with one of the girls, and the other two were working swiftly in that direction. I was having a perfectly wonderful time just hanging out and drinking, but of course, if Luna was going to hang out it was going to be with her meter running. Which was fine with me, as I just happen to be the type that finds all this sexual innuendo and flirtation to be a big part of the overall experience. I told Luna to relax.
-You’re on the clock, I said. Now, let’s have another drink.
We had bourbon and beer together, and I really liked the way the girl drank. Real classy, with the cigarettes and the whole glamorous vibe. On the retro side, to be sure. We smoked and drank and talked for maybe another hour before she really started getting to me. Sensing my mood perfectly, she took my hand and led me up the dilapidated stairway.

-We get the good room tonight, she said, opening the door.
Actually, it wasn’t so bad. Smelly, for sure, with the stale residue of its own history. Who could number the legions of anxious, sex-starved bodies, the sheer tonnage of perspiring flesh that might have found refuge and solace in this room? Food for thought. There was a double bed, nicely made with a floral duvet, a chest of drawers, a small table and two small upholstered chairs. A carved,
hand-painted crucifix hung above the head of the bed.
-He ever let you down? I asked, checking out the crucifix.
-Shit, Muchacho, she laughed, I don’t need his ass to take care of me. I take care of myself.
She took a spray-bottle of perfume from the chest of drawers, and sprayed it a few times around the room. Then, catlike, she shed her skirt in seconds and stood before me in a thong pantie bottom, her tight black top, and those powerhouse high heels.
-Sit down, she said, pointing to one of the chairs, and tell Mama what you want.
I couldn’t believe her body. I mean, I thought I had pretty much foreseen how she’d look naked, seeing as that black skirt was already obscenely short, but I was totally unprepared for how fabulous she looked once she removed it. Her big, bouncing ass was phenomenal! And it segued into her plump, delicious legs so seamlessly and perfectly…God, she was a work of art. I recoiled slightly, in shock at how pudgy and hot this woman really was. In fact, I was rendered nearly speechless.

-You like the big girls, no? she laughed. Mmmm, we’re going to get along just fine. So, how much you want to spend?
The concept of money had just lost all meaning for me. All I could think about was how unreal that body was.
-I don’t know, I stammered. How about I pay as we go?
-No chance. You already got an hour downstairs. You owe me $20.00 for that. So, give me $40.00 to keep going or the $20.00 and we call it a night.
I reached into my pocket, my eyes fixed on Luna’s legs and ass. Then, forcing my gaze away from her, I flipped through my small bankroll, now crippled from the evening’s expenditures. There were six 20’s and a few smaller bills, maybe $130-$140 total. I peeled off three 20’s and handed them to her.
-Here’s $60.00. What’ll that get me?
Luna took the money and walked over to the chest of drawers, her ungodly body swirling and twisting indescribably as she moved. She placed the money in a jewelry box and walked back toward me. Her movements alone were worth more than I’d paid. I was getting seriously hard just looking at her, and inwardly my desire for her was over-the-edge. She stood directly in front of me, flashing those amazing, fat thighs in my face.
-I know what you want, little man, she said. You don’t have to say anything more. You just let Mama do her thing.

With those fateful words, everything changed. Luna changed, I changed, my life changed. She changed the way the people change in horror movies, instantly switching from sympathetic to terrifying. She had certainly exuded nothing if not confidence thus far in our encounter, but that confidence morphed now into a completely alternate and distinct personality, something wicked, dark, satanic. Her entire demeanor took on the characteristics of a witch; an imperious, callous, exceedingly gorgeous witch. She sat down slowly, sensually in the chair and crossed her big legs with consummate artistry. My heart skipped and my cock launched into major-league throb-mode. She stared me down and dangled that acrylic heel seductively off of her deliciously curled toes.
-Look at my legs, she said sternly.
I already was, in a big way. A cold shiver shot through my entire being, causing me to shudder noticeably. Luna whispered a little throaty, knowing laugh.
-Look at them closer, puerco, she said. Get down on your hands and knees and crawl over here like the pig that you are.
I felt so strange; so excited and yet anxious and agitated at the same time. I know that sounds like a normal feeling under the circumstances, but the anxiety and agitation were different. They didn’t feel like the normal kind of jitters one often gets in the throes of intense sexual stimulation. It was dark, as if something terrible was in the air. I crawled obediently to her and stared at the killing flesh of those legs, which began to bring tears to my eyes. I had never been so completely possessed, so quickly, by a woman’s body in my life.
-Keep looking, she said, and keep your mouth shut. I don’t want to hear a fucking peep out of you. You got that?
I nodded. Luna began to shift slightly in her seat, adjusting those fine legs a little this way, and a little that way, and with each slight movement as I sat directly next to her, it was all I could do to keep from howling like a rabid dog. God, she was Hot! I immediately felt sure there was no way I was going to remain mute in the face of her spectacular leg show.

Then, with her legs still crossed so fucking alluringly, she reached down with her elegant, long-nailed finger and pointed to a spot just above the knee on the supporting leg.
-Closer, pig! She demanded softly. Put your nose up to me, but don’t touch, and don’t smell. Just look.
I moved my nose to within an inch of her glorious leg. It was as if the whole world disappeared. There was only this one, incomparably delicious offering of divine, feminine flesh and me. That was the world, the universe. I couldn’t believe what a supreme test of will it was for me to simply remain still there, focused on her leg without breaking. Actually, it was sheer torture. Again she would move slightly and the impossible rippling of her body fat would bring me to the very edge of collapsing into hysteria. Next she pointed to a spot higher up, in the middle area of her inner thigh where it started to flare toward its largest expanse.
-Here, she said softly. Just look.
I followed her finger with my nose. At this stopping point her thigh-flesh was so thick and luscious that she had barely pulled her finger away when I started to tremble badly, my mind now at war with itself fighting every impulse toward the natural reaction of screaming or crying, but also all the more turned on by this immaculate and uncompromising control Luna had so instantaneously manifested over me. Glaring at that exquisite body fat—and here the crossing leg also met with the supporting leg so that her other thigh came slightly into view to threaten me, as it were, from the side—I was so helpless, so subjugated, so nearly mad with desire that I could literally feel the sound moving from my chest toward my vocal chords. And again, it wasn’t just the visual aspect that was so overpowering. It was also the intoxicating fragrance of her skin, her delicate perfume, and, this close now, the faint mix of her cunt’s heated aroma, all of which blended into the most heavenly bouquet I had ever experienced. I was inflamed with desire.
-Be still, she said calmly as she watched me starting to shake even harder.
Her voice was so soft now, so calculating, so authoritative. I continued to shake, calling upon every ounce of reserve to keep from crying. As if sensing my breaking point, she shifted ever so slightly in the chair, and set a wave of little flesh quivers in motion. That was it.

I held back the vast majority of the outburst that was pressing up from my throat toward my gaping mouth, but somehow a whimper managed to get through. It was only a slight one, but Luna heard it.
-Tsk, tsk, tsk. She clicked her tongue and shook her head. That’s a shame. Back up, puerco. But stay down on your hands and knees.
She stood up from the chair and began to walk around the room, snaking sensually to and fro like a giant panther circling its prey. Watching her surreal body in motion was killing me She lit a cigarette and opened the top drawer of the bureau, pulling out a bottle of bourbon. . Then she looked down at me, steely-eyed, and told me to take off my clothes.
-Don’t get up, she said. Just take them off right there. And keep looking at me while you do it.
I remember thinking how evil her beautiful eyes looked at that moment. She took a couple of big hits from the bottle, and a deep, sexy drag off the cigarette. The way she hit a cigarette was to die for. I watched her, intoxicated, as she shifted her divine weight back and forth from one gorgeous leg to another, taking a couple more shots from the bottle, and finishing her cigarette. By then, I sat before her completely nude, trembling worse than ever, my cock overflowing with streams of pre-cum. Luna came closer.

-What’s that? She smiled.
Now keep in mind that at this point I am in an uncharted interior state. Yes, I’ve always loved big, dominant girls, and yes, I’ve played the submissive’s role many times. But I had never had this kind of anxious, unsettling feeling—this primal FEAR—that a woman was literally taking possession of my soul. That’s what I was feeling now, along with more than a little embarrassment, as she asked the question. Finding some small stash of most welcome inner reserve, I answered,
-It’s for you.
-Ah, for me. Mmmm. And what if I don’t want it?
She eyeballed me, serious as cancer, and I was at a total loss. I just sort of shook my head in confusion.
-There will be plenty more of that, she said. You can clean it all up later. Right now, I want you to take your pants, reach into your pocket and give me the rest of your money.
-My money? I thought—“
-I know. Give it to me right now.
Her voice remained so low-key and soft. She knew I was completely under her spell and she was oh-so-right. Knowing that I was being completely irrational, and having no idea what to even really expect from this enigmatic powerhouse of a woman, I reached for my pants, took the last of my cash out of the pocket, and handed it up toward her.
-In your mouth, she said, like a cash machine.
I placed the bills longways in my mouth and she swung her mighty hips around toward my face lifting up the side string of her thong bottom. I placed the money underneath it, stripper-style, and she let the string snap back. Being this close to her beautiful ass caused me to whine slightly again. She made those same clicking noises with her tongue.
-Tsk, tsk, tsk.
Smiling to herself, she then turned her back to me, flaunting her incomparable ass in my face. She took a couple of wicked steps in place to make everything shake. Un-handle-able.
-Careful, she said, you’re a man under orders.
I summoned every last fiber of willpower that was in me, but she was much too much. That ass and those remarkable, thick thighs broke me. I didn’t cry out, but rather began sobbing, quietly at first, and then progressively louder. Luna began to laugh softly, strangely, almost demonically.

She continued to taunt me for a while longer, jiggling her ass and legs, and causing my crying to erupt into serious hysteria. I had never even touched her, and I was reduced to a lump of mush; mind gone, no real clue what was happening to me as I became one with the bizarre moment.
-Smell my ass, she said. As close as you can, but don’t touch.
I placed my nose between her powerful ass cheeks and sniffed. Her full-throttle attack. The end for me. Her fat body, the mind-fucker scents of her ass and pussy, and that soft fragrance of her flesh itself combined to trigger a massive psychic explosion. Reality gave way altogether and I plunged down into some unknown realm where desire and terror merge into madness. Unable any longer to sit up, I slumped over on my side in the throes of some kind of seizure brought on by the sensory overload. It was as if my whole soul was some sort of dreamscape volcano, every emotion, both known and unknown, reaching unimaginable, climactic temperatures and raging with infinite force toward the surface. It began to feel like some strange form of orgasm, except that the explosion was inward rather than outward. (Actually I discovered later that it had been outward as well. Luna made me lap it all up with my tongue and swallow it.)

As I lay there convulsing, my perceptions were undergoing radical shifts. I had the realization that wherever I was going it was going to be good once I got past the terrifying moments of transition that would take me there. I saw Luna’s body standing over me in judgment, gorgeous, powerful, severe—like some sort of demoness; but all around her I beheld what appeared to be the universal energy itself, showing itself as it really was through this radical shift. Indeed, I saw the whole universe shimmering with unimaginably bright waves of different energies, all complementing each other, and all manifested in extraordinary combinations of intense, blinding color. Maybe this is death, I thought. If it is, I would recommend it to anyone. Of course, it wasn’t the experience of death, per se, but in a way it was because it was the experience of eternity, of absolute transcendence. It was an awakening, an enlightenment, a transformational mystical experience that changed my life profoundly. Through Luna, the magical, mystical, $20.00 hooker in Juarez.

When I returned to normal ‘reality,’ Luna was sitting there, still wearing her underwear and her high heels, her gorgeous legs crossed seductively.
-Well, Muchacho, you got what you came for. And you got it for cheap.
She was fanning through the bills I had given her.
-All you got here is $135.00. It doesn’t seem right. I change your whole life, and all I get is $135.00.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know what had actually happened without having some time to reflect.
-You’re unbelievable, I said. What did you do to me?
-You know what I did. It’s what you’ve been waiting for your whole life. It’s just sex. The best sex you ever had, that’s all.
-But we didn’t have sex, did we?
Call it what you want. You went places, saw things.
-But you never touched me.
-The one thing you should know now is that sex doesn’t necessarily mean intercourse. It’s personal. Look, stop trying to analyze it. It was nothing. All I did was to open the doors. You’re the one who had to walk through. Still, a man will usually go his whole life without having this door opened for him. The question is, how much is it really worth to you?
I was so out of my element, which was strange because she was exactly right. This WAS what I had been waiting for my whole life, and yet it all seemed so unfamiliar, like it wasn’t supposed to happen here, in this way.
-I don’t know, I said. If I had more, I would give it to you.
-How much more?
-I don’t know. I’m not sure what you’re driving at.
That sinister look returned to her eyes. She kicked her crossed leg up and down, smiling coyly. That dark, sinister expression rose up in her face again.
-I’ve given you everything, she said. Don’t you think that ‘turnabout is fair play?’
-Sure, but what more can I give you?
Luna broke out into a frightening, mephistophelean burst of laughter.
-Can’t you guess, you fucking simpleton? You’ll give me your life, and by extension, your soul!
-My life??
-Of course. Did you really think you’d be going home with your friends this morning? Guess again, Muchacho. You’re mine, Ese. You’re staying here…Forever!

Well, I don’t know how long I’ve been here in Juarez now, living in an upstairs supply room, and devoting myself to being Luna’s dutiful slave, but I can’t say I regret it. Luna is good to me. When she has finished fucking her Johns, she almost always flashes her ass and legs for me, which sends me into frenzied states of sexual ecstasy, the likes of which I have never known before. Her magic never wanes. I take care of everything for her. I wash, clean, cook, and run errands. I bathe her, I keep whatever room she’s turning tricks in immaculate, and I never fail to pray to her incomprehensible ass, every time she presents it to me. In all the time I’ve been here, she’s never let me touch her. But I keep hoping that someday, when I’ve proved myself, proved that I’m an infallible servant and perfect guardian of her affairs, that she may allow me to kiss her ass or her thighs. I never thought I’d spend my whole life as the servant of a call girl in Juarez, Mexico. But then again, I never thought that such a girl would show me God.

Anyway, as I was saying, she was definitely annoyed with me, and there was no doubt in my mind that a severe reprimand was coming my way when we got home. I had taken her to a concert to see John Mayer and Melissa Ethridge, her two favorite performers of all time. If it seems a bit of a lucky coincidence that her two favorites would appear on the same bill, well, it is. I’m the one who arranged and promoted the concert. I’m Kip Lansford, and I’m a big-shot. I’m president of Cameo Productions in Los Angeles, and we just happen to be the hottest concert promoters in the biz. But this isn’t the point. The point is that I put this concert together just for her. Her name is Asal, and I did it as a present for her on her 24rd birthday. Young and fine; the impossible combination. I attended to every detail of her special night personally, to be sure that nothing was left to chance. The most expensive luxury box in the concert hall, complete with the finest champagne and caviar, 5-star dining, complete security clearance to go backstage or wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted. The entire concert hall was at her disposal for the duration of the show.

The performances were exceptional. Asal seemed thrilled with everything. Everything but me, that is. She spent the better part of the evening wandering the concert hall, flirting with boys, talking to her home girls that she had invited. She would reconnect with me off and on for a drink, or an introduction or two to people she wanted to meet, but the whole time she was ice-cold where I was concerned. She knew that attitude caused me to feel unsettled and acutely anxious and she did it just to make sure I was uncomfortable. That was normal for her. It was simply the way she expressed her dominance over me, like she was constantly angry with me. Although I certainly hated the feeling, I had at least begun to get used to it on some level. But as we rode home in the limo, I knew there was something more on her mind. I tried to talk to her about it, but she refused.
-Shut up, she snapped. We’ll discuss this when we get home.

My stomach was in knots as I opened the front door for her. She walked ahead of me, so cocky and so hot; her huge, glorious body exploding from her skin-tight mini-dress, teetering in her elegant 5-inch heels.
-Honey, I hope your—“
-I told you to shut up! she said as she turned on me, slapping me violently across the face. This goddamned insolence of yours is really starting to get on my nerves! Now make me a fucking drink and meet me in the bedroom. And hurry your bitch-ass up.

Now I know you’re probably wondering why someone as wealthy as I am, only 35 years old and with my considerable influence in the entertainment business, with this beautiful home in the Hollywood Hills, with all I’ve got going for me, why would I take this kind of shit from a fat, young nobody of a girl? I can already hear you saying it. ‘Just tell her to hit the bricks, dude! You can have anybody you want.’
Well, that’s exactly the point. I want Asal. Honestly, and I’m not bragging, just telling the truth, I’ve had my share of girls. Hot girls. But no one has ever made me feel like Asal. She’s too much. Her big, beautiful legs and incomprehensible ass drive me to madness. Just to touch her flesh, omigod. She lets me sometimes. She has let me kiss her thighs. She has smothered me, sitting on my face with all 300-plus lbs. of her forced down on that spectacular ass and onto my helpless face. When I see her, I tremble with excitement. When I think of her, I shiver with waves of ecstasy. No, no. I could never leave her. Never. The greatest fear in my life is that she will leave me, and I am simply not prepared for it. For the chance to be crushed just one more time between those ungodly, delicious thighs of hers, I am prepared to give my very life.

I moved like a man possessed, making her drink and getting to that bedroom. She was down to her bra and panties, still shod in those amazing high-heels. I handed her her drink, ever so contritely, and waited for her to speak. She strutted back and forth a couple of times, her giant body swaying and swirling in such luscious, indescribable motions that she seemed to be defying the laws of physics. I choked down a sip of my drink, trying to steady my nerves. The sight of her body like this, and its mind-fucking movements had me dizzy. I felt as if I might throw up from the tension. The whole time she’s looking me over, up and down, her expression and demeanor letting me know in no uncertain terms that I’m less than a dog turd to her right now. At length, she told me to sit down. She straddled a corner of the bed and sat down also, staring a hole through me, and flashing those surreal thighs at me. For a moment she just sat there, taking a couple of sips of her drink and glaring at me with the most severe, intimidating expression. Finally, she spoke.

-Here’s the thing, she said. It’s getting to a point where I just don’t know if there’s any hope for you. I don’t know if you’ve got some kind of constitutional attitude problem, or if maybe you just enjoy pissing me off for some reason, or if maybe you’re just actually that fucking stupid that you actually don’t understand me when I tell you what to do. My real concern is that that’s it, that you’re just a big, fucking stupid dumbass who’s incapable of doing what I say. And I know you’ll agree with me, that a girl as hot as I am deserves a hell of a lot better than a fucking stupid dumbass, do I not?
-Of course—
-Shut up! You see, there you go, being a fucking dumbass! Just nod, idiot! I’ll tell you when you can speak.
I shuddered in terror, nodding agitatedly to meet with her approval.
-I hardly know where to begin. I’ve tried to think if there were any more ways you could have fucked up this evening for me, and if there were, I can’t think of them offhand. But let’s just start with this.
She reached into her purse and pulled out a dinner napkin. She handed it to me so that I immediately noticed a stain on it. It was black, like dirt or thick dust.
-Can you tell me anything about this? She asked.
I had no idea what to think. Asal had always been a clean-freak, so I knew it had something to do with something that wasn’t clean, but I had no clue as to the details. The look in my eyes told her that I knew better than to speak without permission.
-If you know something, you may speak.
I didn’t, so I just shook my head silently.
-That’s what I thought, she said. Suppose I were to tell you that this disgusting smudge rubbed off on my napkin from under the dinner table where I was sitting. Can you wrap your fucking pea-brain around that as a way of showing your love and respect for me? To place me at a table, where they’re serving my food, ON MY BIRTHDAY, NO LESS, with this kind of filth under the edge of it?
I was horrified. Of course, I hadn’t thought to have the table cleaned underneath. Shit. No wonder she was pissed. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just looked at her, petrified.
-Well, anything you can tell me about this, dumbass? Go on, speak up.
-No darling, I-I can’t believe it. I was VERY specific with the maitre d’ that every inch of the place had to be spotless for you. I can’t imagine how they would let this happen.
-I see, she said. So it’s the maitre d’s fault?
-I-I think so, yes.
-Mmmm-hmmm. So you’re saying that making me happy is the maitre d’s job, is that right?
-Well, I—
-Be careful on this one!
-I, well, it seems like, in this case, he certainly should have—
Slaaaap!! She slapped me so hard she almost took my head off.
-Fuck you! She growled. This is what I’m talking about! You and your fucking bullshit! Now you want to lie to me on top of everything else!
-I’m not ly—
-Craaaack!! She slapped the shit out of me again.
-Bullshit!! Just answer the question, you goddamn pig! WHO is responsible for my happiness? Who? Some idiot maitre d’ I never heard of, or you?
I felt tears beginning to come, but held them back. I realized there was no escaping her logic. She slapped me again, so hard.
-Well?!!
-I am, my darling. I am.
-That’s right. So, when I sit down at some filthy fucking table for my birthday dinner which YOU have arranged, and get filth like this on my napkin, WHOSE FAULT IS IT?
-It’s mine, I cried, it’s all my fault.

-Now, think about this, bitch-ass, and see if your feeble brain can follow along. If I hadn’t placed that napkin on my lap, WHERE would this filthy, disgusting smudge of dirt gone?
I almost choked as I tried to swallow.
-On your dress, I whimpered.
She became enraged. She stood up, flashed her massive thigh in front of me, then reared back and slammed it hard right into my face. The force of the blow knocked me over in my chair and sent me sprawling onto the floor. There had to be more power in those legs of hers than a 16-wheeler.
-No, goddammit, no! she screamed. Think! For one second in your stupid, worthless fucking life, THINK! What was I wearing? God, I’m so sick of your infinite stupidity!
That powerhouse kick had almost knocked me cold, but since it didn’t, my head was throbbing so hard I couldn’t pick myself up. Still, I began to realize the point. She had been wearing that ultra-short, skin-tight mini-cocktail dress, so the dirt wouldn’t have gotten on her dress. It would have gotten on her leg.
-Leg, I whimpered. I’m sorry. It would have gotten on your leg.
-Beautiful, Einstein! You see, this is what I don’t understand. You seem capable of thinking when you want to. So WHY is it you refuse to think where I’m concerned? And what other conclusion can I come to other than that you saw no problem in taking me out for a so-called ‘elegant’ birthday dinner, and then seating me at a table so filthy and disgusting that this greasy fucking smudge would have ended up on my gorgeous legs. Do I have it about right? This is the consideration you show me on my fucking birthday?!
-I’m sorry, I blubbered
-You’re sorry?! Fuck you!

She stood over me now, the predator inspecting her prey. My god, those giant legs! So exquisitely shaped, and so terrifyingly powerful. I started to cry as her slightest movements caused that leg-flesh to jiggle and quiver directly in front of me.
-Well, she continued, I’m sorry too, then. Let’s see how you like it.
With that she bent down and stuffed the smudged napkin into my mouth.
-Here you go, pig! YOU eat it, Motherfucker!
She continued to force more and more of it into my mouth until I started to gag.
-What? She railed, What’s wrong? Oh, you don’t like the taste of this filthy fucking napkin? Come on, you bitch! I want every last inch of this fucker in that big, fat, stupid mouth of yours!
She continued to shove it in above my muffled moaning.
-I don’t get it, she went on, it was OK on my leg, but not good enough for you to eat? Fuck you, Pig!
Finally, I managed to take the whole napkin into my mouth. I couldn’t breath.
-There, she said, you can just meditate on that for a little while.
She pulled my face into her crotch area, knowing how it drove me wild being so close to her legs. As I struggled to keep from suffocating, the electrical allure of her powerful body added even more juice to my gyrations. Asal laughed at my complete helplessness, and then slammed that massive, battering ram of a thigh hard into my face again. The pain was indescribable. Though I instantly felt sure the blow had broken my nose, my bigger concern was that this must be what a concussion felt like. Everything went dark, and I had the distinct sensation that my skull had cracked and that my brain had just been scrambled like so much Hamburger Helper. I lay on the floor, writhing in pain, instinctively trying to pull the napkin out of my mouth. Asal reached down and callously ripped it out herself.
-I should let you choke on that shit, but guess what? This wasn’t everything. Now that your brain’s beginning to work, I’ve got something else to show you. It looks like you just need some fucking sense knocked into you before you can fucking comprehend anything.

She strutted back to her purse, driving me to utter insanity with each gargantuan step of her enormous body. This time she pulled out a fork and brought it over to me for inspection. I had painfully reached a sitting position on the floor by this time.
-Take a look at this, she said, and tell me what you see.
I was still seeing stars from the brutal force of that massive thigh to the face, so it was hard to focus. Thankfully, my vision had cleared just enough to notice that the fork had spots on it from the dishwasher. Oh God, I thought. How could I have let this happen?
-Well?
I started sobbing harder now, knowing I was in serious trouble.
-It-It’s…
-It’s WHAT?
-It’s…DIRTY.
-Dirty?
-Yes.
-Is that it?
-It’s got spots.
-IT’S FILTHY!! She screamed. It’s fucking disgusting! And you didn’t give a rat’s fucking ass if I ATE WITH IT, did you?
-Oh, god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know.
-You didn’t know? You’re sorry? Bub, you’ve been SORRY from the get-go. But what do you mean, you didn’t know? How were you going to know when you didn’t attend to these fucking details personally? You’re such a fucking idiot! Always carrying on with people about how good you are, how organized you are. What a bunch of fucking bullshit! You’re lucky I don’t shove this up your fucking ass right now! But you know what, you pig-ass bitch-boy? There’s still more!

With that, she again pulled my face up near her crotch, just inches from those killer thighs. Her scent was maddening. Her skin smelled so perfect, like lilacs in the spring, and along with that I could detect just a hint of the divine bouquet of her cunt.
-Please, I cried. I didn’t even know what I meant by it.
Then came another big thigh, flush and powerful into my throbbing head that sent me tumbling across the room, slumping to rest in the corner. She followed immediately, killing me with the incomprehensible movements of her body.
-Now answer me this, moron! Did you notice anything unusual about our waiter tonight?
I tried to think. I remembered him well, but I couldn’t think of anything wrong or unusual.
-Well?
I didn’t answer, but just broke into deeper sobbing.
Asal reached down and slapped me again with the full weight of her body behind it. I clutched at the wall, yelping in pain.
-You didn’t notice that he SMELLED A LITTLE FUNNY? She asked.
I couldn’t place what she meant.
-God, you’re such a dip-shit. I have to spell out everything for you. And why? Because, like I keep saying, you’re nothing but a stupid fucking moron. Hell-O? He was wearing fucking Drakkar Noir! How could you miss that? It’s a man’s fucking cologne! You’re supposed to be a man! Am I missing something here? You know I HATE FUCKING DRAKKAR NOIR!! And you let him wait on me? For my BIRTHDAY!?! God, you make me sick!

I couldn’t believe it. She was absolutely right. I couldn’t say I was automatic when it came to colognes, but I certainly should have recognized the damned Drakkar Noir. Should have seen to it her waiter wore something she liked. I slumped in that corner, pretty much fetal, and mumbled a continuous mantra of ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’
-Yeah, yeah, she scoffed. Well, mister, you’re going to pay for this bullshit. I suppose you thought I was going to allow you some mind-altering sex tonight, too, eh? Show my appreciation to you for such a ‘wonderful’ evening? Well, three guesses whether that’s going to happen. I’ve never been so fucking humiliated in all my life. So it seems to me that your punishment should fit the crime. And you know what I feeling like doing to finish off my birthday? I feel like cooking.

The Devil alone knew that this might mean. Cooking? It was after midnight. Whatever she was up to, I had a bad feeling about it.
-Let’s go, she said. You’re going to watch.
Groggy from all the blows to the head, I managed to stumble behind her out to the kitchen area. She made me sit at the kitchen table and watch her as she moved about, so impossibly sexy in her skimpy thong bottom and lacy bra. Every move she made in those awesome high heels made my cock harder and harder. Within a few minutes I was practically panting. Asal strutted around haughtily, obviously taking great delight in driving me out of my skin with raging desire. She was making breakfast; eggs, bacon, sausage, mixing it all together in a large skillet. Fighting the onset of insanity caused by my lust for her, I tried to focus on what she might be up to. I couldn’t get a handle on what might be ‘cooking’ in that devious mind of hers. I just kept remembering the line about the ‘punishment fitting the crime.’

-Keep your eyes on my legs and ass, she said as she undulated to and from the table, bringing over condiments, silverware, glasses, etc. Watching her ass sway like a wrecking ball and the maddening shakes and quivers of those huge legs with every delicious movement of her glorious, fat body was taking its toll. I was so fucking horny I thought I might explode. She purposely exaggerated each movement as well, so as to have maximum effect on my withering soul. At last she made her final approach, holding the skillet with a potholder in one hand and what appeared to be a rolled up paper towel in the other.
-Here we are, she said. Let’s share a nice late night birthday breakfast together.
I didn’t know how to respond, the whole thing was so strange. Plus, my entire focus was still on her monster thighs as she stood right in front of me.
-I thought that after treating me to such a lovely evening, I might return the favor. So, how about a little something to eat, fuck-stick?!

Without warning, she proceeded to fling the entire contents of the skillet in my face and onto my chest. Turned out she had practically filled the pan with cooking oil before putting the food in and now that scalding hot grease might as well have been a beaker full of acid as it proceeded to eat into my flesh. I screamed in pain and flipped out of the chair and onto the floor, pawing helplessly at my face.
-Oh, what’s the matter? She taunted. Oh, did you get something disgusting on your clothes? On your face? Oh my! I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought to see if that grease was hot before I threw it in your face. What COULD I have been thinking?
Asal stood over me like a vulture, watching me gyrate like a top on the kitchen floor.
-You see, bitch, she snapped, two can play this ‘Oh, I forgot’ game. Well, now let’s see how you like it!

Next she unrolled the paper towel she brought to the table and took a fork out of it. She had soaked it with cleaning fluid and dishwashing detergent and then coated it with Comet. She speared one of the sausages with it and bent back over me.
-Here, she said, eat this.
The pain was so intense that I couldn’t stop my flip-flop routine on the floor. The molten grease had already singed away sections of my face and riddled my head and chest with severe burns.
-Sit still, pig, she yelled, and open your fucking mouth.
She grabbed my hair and held my head steady as she shoved the fork into my mouth.
-Chew it up, god damn you! Right now!
She forced me to chew, and right away I could taste the Comet, though I wasn’t totally sure what the rest of the toxic mixture might be.
-Go ahead, mister big shot. Eat! It’s only a little silver cleaner and some detergent. Oh, and of course, a nice healthy portion of Comet.
I really started to buck now. She laughed and held me firmly in place.
-Oh, no, she said, it’s OK. This stuff’s good for you. What? You don’t care for it? Oh, well, you know it’s the damnedest thing. I didn’t THINK to see if that fork was clean. Aww, and now you’ve swallowed some kind of poison. I’m really sorry. I’ll try to do better next time. You don’t mind, do you?

I was freaking out, now. The chemicals began to burn the living shit out of my mouth, throat, and lungs. I struggled to breath. I felt like the flesh from my whole face had now been eaten away. It became harder to scream as the noxious toxins stormed my esophagus. All of this seemed to amuse Asal immensely. She laughed and continued to stand over me, taunting me and still showing off those devastating legs, which wasn’t helping.
-Is any of this perhaps making an impression on you, asshole? she railed. Am I getting through to your stupid ass, or has my approach been a little too subtle for that pea-fucking-brain of yours? Well, maybe I can summon the waitress over here to help you. Hmmm. I hope she doesn’t smell too bad, though.
She jerked me by the hair right up to her ass and proceeded to cut loose with a huge fart, right in my face.
-Smell that, pussy-ass, she said. And don’t you DARE touch me with that et-up face of yours. I did my best to inhale through the nose, but my system was just about on complete tilt. She fired away with another big, smelly fart. I would normally have reveled in such humiliation, but combined with the very real injuries and damage she had wrought upon me, I couldn’t really enjoy it at that moment, though the sight of her exquisite ass in my face did still have me swinging nothing but wood. She laughed as she looked back at me in my agony. Then she cut a third one, the smell flowing directly into my brain.
-Oh, jeez, my bad, she giggled. I think maybe your waitress smells a little funky tonight, don’t you? Gee, too bad I didn’t think to check and see if she felt like farting in your worthless fucking face tonight. It must have slipped my mind. Oh well, these things happen you know.

Then she turned on me again, and slammed another knee lift into my face. I felt sure now I was going to die. My throat and lungs were entirely constricted, my burns were throbbing beyond description, and now another concussion-style blast to the head. She followed me as I flipped again half way across the kitchen. She could plainly see I couldn’t breathe.
-Happy Birthday to ME, she said, and Happy 911 call to you, moron.
With that, she held me in place by the hair and fired that big thigh right into my solar plexus with everything she had. The air rushed out of me like it had been shot from a cannon and I slumped to the floor like a bag of dirt, gasping helplessly for the breath that wouldn’t come. I could hear Asal still cussing me out as she stalked away, those divine high heels clacking imperiously on the hardwood floor. Somehow, I did manage to get to my cell phone and call 911. It was close. The doctors said I was lucky. I made up some ludicrous story about someone breaking in while I was cooking and doing this to me for reasons completely unknown to me. I don’t think they believed me, but the whole thing blew over without an investigation.

Well, this was about a month ago, and my face is permanently scarred. I’m going back to the surgeon next week for another skin graft. They think I can look relatively normal again if we work hard enough at it. My esophagus, lungs, and stomach suffered damage from the chemicals, but I’m taking some meds that should help them recover with time. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to make amends with Asal, hoping she’ll eventually forgive me for being such an idiot. She pays very little attention to me, except to reprimand or punish me for my wrongdoing. Nothing as severe as her birthday night, of course. But I’ve always got to be on my toes so it doesn’t happen again. She’s a sharp cookie, and very demanding.