Her Possession

I tried to tell her that the whole thing was too much, but she just pursed her lips (really pissed off) and told me to kiss her ass. I had always believed, or hoped, anyway, that if she ever found me, I'd be able to man up and tell her to fuck off, that I refused to go through life being so afraid of her like I was before. But now, as soon as I laid eyes on her, I was more helpless than ever. I tried to shake it off, to 'get a hold of myself,' as the saying goes, but no way. I wanted so badly to take her in my arms, to hold her close, to kiss her with maniacal passion. There is no doubt that I needed her more than I even wanted her, which was more than I could measure want, but none of these real and painfully intense feelings could keep me from surrendering to her on sight.
-I said, kiss my ass, you fucking pussy-ass bitch!
I loved it when she came down on me like that. It almost made me cum.


She found me at Monohan's, double-fisting Jacks on the rocks and Coors chasers. I never saw her coming, but I knew her scent from a mile away, and before she had said a word, I turned to greet her. She was far and away the most incredible smelling woman on the planet. I never could figure it out, but it was more than just her perfume. She loved Opium, and so did I. Old School, I know, but something about it gave a guy a hard-on faster than you could say Jack Robinson. But she wasn't the only woman in the world wearing Opium, and yet I always knew when she was near. To this day, I'm sure it has something to do with the exquisite quality of the woman's flesh. Fat, firm, supple, smooth, devastating. Checking her out now in her little micro-mini blue jean skirt, all I could think was that she looked better than ever.
-Hi, Gail. You look great, I said. It's good to see you.
She didn’t say shit, just glared at me, flaunting that unholy body of hers. My stomach began to rise quickly in the direction of my throat, churning uncontrollably. My whole being twisted up into a familiar, impossibly gnarled mass of knots.
-Would you at least like a drink? I asked.
I didn't want her to have a drink. I just wanted her to go away. Actually, that's not accurate. I wanted her to have never arrived. Now that she was here, there was no way to wish her away. My desire for her was a living plague, a disease so deadly and debilitating that the thought occurred to me that killing myself was a preferable option to becoming riddled with the curse again. God, she was so arrogant!
-Of course, she snapped, sitting down next to me and giving me the full-on hit man shot of those monster legs of hers. I signaled the bartender.
-Melon martini for the lady.


We sat there in silence for a few moments. She was right in her element now. She loved this shit; just sitting quietly next to me, giggling under her breath, while I went out of my fucking mind at the sight—and smell—of her. It was like romper room or something to her. In fact, she probably hadn’t had this much fun in months, I thought. The way she enjoyed torturing me was fucking inhuman. I couldn’t help gawking downward at her legs, and of course, she knew that I wouldn’t be able to. Those plump, gorgeous legs, Jeezus. Thick as fucking bricks. Just looking at them again, well, it was over. I was as much her possession as her wallet and credit cards, which is what I became when she owned me. She could read my internal convulsions just by looking me in the eye.
-Well, this isn’t going to be hard, she chuckled. Why didn’t you just look me up instead of putting yourself through all this bullshit? Did you really think you’d never run into me again?
-A guy can hope.
She snickered conceitedly and took her drink from the bartender.
-Maybe you should have stopped going out then, she said. Lived at home staring at the walls like the scared little puppy you are.
-I thought about moving away.
-Why didn’t you?
-I love L.A. It’s my home. The only place I’ve ever felt whole. I just couldn’t live with the idea that you’d have taken it from me.
-Touching, but you’re boring me, as usual. Finish your drink and let’s go.


In the parking lot she ordered me to go straight to her house.
-Aren’t you afraid I’ll bolt? I asked.
-Nope. Be there in 15 minutes or I won’t be amused.
I was there in 10. She hadn’t arrived. All I had to do was drive away. She didn’t know where I lived now. Impossible. I got out and sat on her porch
to wait. She pulled up shortly, laughing and talking on her cell phone.
-Well, hurry up, she said. Get your ass over here.
I already knew who she was talking to. His name would be different, his face would be different, but those things were meaningless details. He’d always be the same guy in my book.

Inside, she went straight to work. She teased me relentlessly with her incomparably hot ass. My life flashed before my eyes with every flash of her sizzling flesh. I’d fret anxiously for a moment, thinking about the humiliation of having become once again a mere possession, but then I’d just will it away, and lose myself in the amnesia that the exquisite delight of her being wrought in me. It was better that way. If I didn’t think, I could simply soar on the heights of her limitless power and beauty. I could drink down the lush ambrosia of her urine when she turned me into her personal toilet. I could skim the fragrant waves of her scent as she forced me to worship her deadly ass, first from an inch or two’s distance, then with my face shoved firmly up between her cheeks, breathless. I have no doubt that no woman in the world ever understood worship on the level that she understood it. The way she seemed to know instinctively just how a man should pray to her, and how he wanted to pray to her…it was always an insoluble mystery to me. It was the same way a spider knew how to spin a web, or a bird knew how to fly. Pure, perfect instinct. I was sobbing softly as she forced me back and forth; first a few inches back to behold her ass, then a few inches closer to smell it, and finally the clasping of my hands to pray to it. I hated her. But oh, how I loved her.

She took particular delight in my praying to her ass. She used to call it ‘The Oracle.’
-Pray to The Oracle, pig-bitch, she’d say. The Oracle can divine your future!
We both knew exactly what my future held for me. She always laughed so haughtily at my pathetic petitioning. Probably because it was always the same prayer; a prayer for mercy, a prayer that she might relent and give me a few minutes’ break from staring at her ass. But the more I begged, the more she’d flaunt it, forcing me even to kiss it at times (when she was feeling unusually generous) and to touch her powerful thighs with the tip of my nose. Such moments caused the mind to freeze up. Suddenly, you wouldn’t recognize your surroundings, or the colors of things would change. You’d be so disoriented you’d just start to cry. Tears of joy and gratitude at having such proximity to her ass. Of course, I always reminded myself that it was good to have entered an altered state of consciousness in consideration of what was sure to happen next. You see, thus far, I have only spoken of Gail’s terrifying power over me. I have unfolded to you most of the ways in which she exercised her extraordinary domination over me, and I am quite sure that there are more than a few among you who would gladly trade places with me…IF this were all there was to it. But there was always more to come. The worst…was always yet to come.


It turned out that the passing of time hadn’t dulled my ability to predict the ringing of the doorbell to within a few minutes. Sure enough, just as I was thinking ‘any time now,’ the doorbell rang. Gail chuckled and left me naked on my knees while she went to the door. She let him in. This time he was a rather unexceptional looking sandy blonde with a crooked nose, but a nice body. He had kind of a surfer look, tan and wearing a T-shirt and faded jeans. An average Joe.
-So this is him? He asked.
-Mmm-hmmm.
He looked at me with a really confused expression. I had seen that look a million times, or so it seemed. He was wondering who was more confused, he or I. Gail just continued to giggle, and sashayed past me, leading him by the hand and swinging her big ass at my face.
-Don’t worry, she told him, this is going to be fun.
-I don’t know if I can, uhh, perform in front of an audience, he said.
-Sure you can, she laughed.
That damned arrogance again! She was so fucking cocky. She knew she could have the son of a bitch spurting cum like a fucking geyser in front of 15,000 at the Staples Center if she wanted to.
-You’re not going to have aaaany problems, she said. Mama’ll see to that.

With that, she ordered me into the bedroom and into a chair in the corner. She told surfer boy to sit on the edge of the bed. Then, she slipped out of her panties and grabbed a seamstress’s tape measure out of her chest of drawers. With the skill and cold calculation of a hired assassin, she stretched the tape around her monstrous ass and ordered surfer boy to read what it said.
-45 inches, he said.
-That’s right, she said, 45 inches. You ever had a 45 inch ass before? She asked him, flaunting it in his face. Now, I’m going to let you do what I made pig boy over there do. Smell it.
Surfer boy sniffed along the sumptuous, sweeping contours of her ass, and the fucker’s cock sprang up like a goddamn diving board. God, she was a fucking artist and a half. She could play a cock like a Stradivarius.
This wasn’t even the hard part yet, and I was already starting to squirm with resentment longing, and rage. Still, although my cock was throbbing like a volcano in the throes of eruption, the emotional side of Gail’s little game was manageable as long as she was dominating him, too. At this point, he was just another poor fuck to feel sorry for. But she wouldn’t leave him to this role for long. I knew the routine all too well.
-Now kiss it, she said.
Surfer boy put his lips to her ass cheek and entered into ecstasy. Gail smiled that wicked little smile that made you crazy, that nasty, confident smile that said, ‘you’re mine, dip-shit. She looked over to make sure I was taking it all in. I wasn’t going to miss even one horrifying second of it. I never had.

Then, as he moaned steadily, she turned and embraced him, straddling his body as she pushed him down onto the bed. I watched while he felt her glorious body all over, his hands caressing her ass fervently, but also anxiously. They were always anxious with her. There was this heightened awareness that you don’t know what’s coming next. They all had it. They were scared of her, and they had every right to be. The fear began to grip me too as she kissed him passionately; big wet, fabulous kisses. The kisses I always craved but was never allowed to experience. The hatred and anger rose to red-line levels quickly, but I knew my job. I held on, held back, and held it all in. She teased him masterfully, driving him to a frenzy with those kisses, and then withdrawing them, playfully taunting him with her lips just above his as she held him in place. Threatening to bring the kiss back down, but stopping just short. Giggling, breathing raw heat, the mind-numbing little ‘ooo’s’ and ‘mmmm’s that were nothing more than her own acknowledgements that he was overheating to her satisfaction. Surfer boy was beginning to whirl like a gyroscope, and at the same time I could feel myself launching into orbit, on a trajectory toward total freakout. His hands continued to explore every inch of her, his moans turning animal. Just as it seemed he could take no more she turned around, still straddling him on all fours and started teasing him with her ass again. She made him kiss it again, slowly, sensuously. I began to quiver uncontrollably as she looked down at his cock straining upward like a hook and ladder.

Gail slapped it playfully, but hard. Pre-cum splattered off in random directions.
-Mmmm, she cooed, somebody’s getting really horny. And messy!
Then she looked over at me.
-And what about you, bitch boy? Aren’t you happy to be back? Watching Mama at work? Go ahead, tell me you’re glad to be back. Tell me the truth.
By now I was burning up, with jealousy, with rage, with frustration, with humiliation…with so much anger at myself for being unable to get away from her. For chrissakes, for not being able to simply stand up, walk out to my car and leave! That’s all there was to it. Watching her give some other asshole what I wanted more than life itself…it made me want to kill myself. Inwardly, I felt I was going to explode with rage. Just then, she slid backward, perching that fat ass solidly upon surfer boy’s already orgasmic expression. She rocked gently back and forth on his face, getting what she wanted.
-Say it, she repeated to me.
Surfer boy was suffocating now, and began to slap Gail’s thighs and ass helplessly, moaning those pathetic, muffled cries for help I knew so well.
-Say it!
-Yes! I cried out. Yes, I’m happy! I’m happy to be back! Fuck! Thank you for all you do for me!
That was my appointed mantra with her. I had been through this whole cuckolding thing more times than I could even imagine, let alone count.
-Good boy, she laughed, turning her attention back to her lover. A few more minutes of his convulsive writhing and she reached climax. Hers was the most beautiful climax in the world. Her face, that heavenly expression, and her voice, silky and luxurious, not at all out of control, just perfectly satisfied.

She came all over surfer boy’s face, laughing demonically as she looked down at it, proudly admiring her work.
-Mmmm, how's that for a fucking facial? she chided. Now wipe it off and lick your hands clean. Be a good boy. Do it for Mama.
Surfer boy followed directions like a good little Pekinese, licking down every last drop after wiping it from his giddy, stupid, awe-struck little face. Bastard! That was my girl's cum he was relishing.
-Stand up, she said.
He rose shakily to his feet, utterly beside himself with desire, his cock standing tall as a soldier, and hard as nails. Gail bent forward and took it into her mouth. He began to do a little dance as she sucked him off, and with every increasing second of his ecstasy, my psychosis intensified to the point of irreversible madness. As surfer boy quickly came in Gail’s mouth, I started screaming, my mind beyond repair.
-Nooo! No! I screamed. Please stop!
Surfer boy nearly freaked out. Something in me hoped it had disrupted his perfect little orgasm, but also knew that it hadn’t.
-What the--? He said.
Gail was suppressing a laugh, the cum dripping from her lips. Then she clasped her hands around surfer boy’s face, drew him in for a kiss, and spit all that cum back into his mouth.
-Swallow it, she commanded. Mama never swallows. She put her hand up over his mouth and laughed imperiously as he swallowed it all down. He took the last couple of wobbly steps in his little dance routine and collapsed onto the bed. I broke into a raging torrent of tears, alternating with incoherent screams; pure hysteria. Gail surveyed the damage as she looked over both of her incapacitated conquests. The look of satisfaction in her face was always indescribable. As she started for the bathroom to shower, she turned to me, purring contentedly.
-See the stud to the door, she said, then clean up in here and put my dishes in the dishwasher before you go. Oh, and leave your phone number on the table on your way out. I’ll call you tomorrow.