smother sitter
02-19-2011, 6:53 PM
This is the second part of Full Service flight. I hope I not violating any rules
Part one is here http://www.mistressdestiny.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1373588#post1373588
Panicked at being in such a vulnerable position, he struggled furiously
to free himself. But there was no going forward or backward. Ron realized
that he was well and truly stuck under the middle seat of Row 15.
Mercifully, the kicks had ceased.
"Thank God for that, at least," Ron thought, trying to clear his head.
"Maybe the bitchy blonde does actually have an ounce of human compassion in
her."
Slowly, the spots that had been dancing before his closed eyes faded and
his mind began to refocus through the residual clouds of pain. His ragged
breathing slowed, but he continued to gasp as he lay on his back. He tried
to ignore the claustrophobic sensation of not being able to move his arms.
Slowly, Ron opened his eyes, trying to assess his situation.
As he'd surmised, he was, indeed, lying on his back, firmly wedged under
the middle seat of Row 15.
His arms were firmly trapped at his sides, pinned by the metal 15B
seat-foundation, with his waist almost directly under the seat back and his
feet propped up against the upright cushion of Seat 16B. He felt his legs
forced back as someone lowered the seat to 16B. Someone raised his right
leg and brushed past.
What was going on? He wished he could see his old Row, but looking in
that direction, all he could see was the upright cushion of Seat 15B,
blocking his view.
The unseen person in Row 16 lowered Ron's right leg, allowing it to rest
on the now-lowered seat cushion.
Then he felt a flash of pain in his groin.
Some weight was pressing down on his testicles! The pain made his head
swim, momentarily.
It took him a while to realize what must be happening: Evidently, the
blonde bitch had nonchalantly retaken her original seat, 16B, and was using
his crotch as a ... a footrest!
"At least she took off her heels," Ron thought, with relief, shuddering
at the image of those nasty black spikes spearing into his tender parts.
As his eyes focused, he turned his eyes to evaluate his surroundings in
Row 15. Looking up, he found himself gazing directly up the obnoxious teen
girl's skirt, his head now lying directly between her feet as she towered
over him.
The young girl stood over him, looking down in shock and revulsion. He
found his gaze torn between the pretty girl's horrified, angry face and the
ivory-colored stretch of cotton covering her probably-underage crotch.
"You filthy PERVERT!" she gasped, raising one foot to stomp his face.
"No!" Ron pleaded. "Please! I ... I tripped! It was an accident! I
swear! I fell and now I'm stuck! Really! I didn't do this on purpose!"
The girl paused, sneakered foot still hovering threateningly above his
undefended face.
"Please!" he whispered. "You have to believe me! If you'd be so kind
as to help me out of this predicament, I'd be ever so grateful!"
She looked down at him, scowling in disbelief. "Surely she'll realize
this wasn't intentional and will help me out!" Ron thought. Even a nasty
bitch like her won't let me suffer like this!
Slowly, her expression changed. A cruel, sly smile stole over her face.
Ron felt his blood run cold.
This wasn't looking good.
"Really," she asked, almost conversationally. "You're really stuck?
You can't move?"
Ron nodded miserably. "Yes," he whispered. "Please help me!"
To his shock, anger, and humiliation, the young girl lowered the seat to
15B, turned, and sat down ... ignoring him. The edge of the seat was
almost directly over his chin, so his view of the cabin ceiling was not
blocked.
"Why you hateful little *bitch*!" Ron muttered, mortified. He felt
humiliated that *both* of these bitchy females were aware of his dilemma
... and neither could be bothered to help. He was even more terrified,
however, that more people would notice his degrading situation, causing an
embarrassing spectacle.
He couldn't call out, without attracting attention and further
mortification, but neither of the people close by could be bothered to
help.
What was he to do?
Desperately, he struggled to free himself.
To his surprise, he felt the weight lift from his aching, beleaguered
scrotum. Gentle hands grasped him behind his right knee and pull his leg
up and back, allowing him to ease it down to the floor.
Was it possible? Had he misjudged his blonde row companion? Was she
actually going to help him?
"Oh bless you!" he murmured, suddenly ashamed at all of the bad things
he had been thinking about his traveling companion. She gently laid his
right leg down on the floor, under Seat 16B.
"Thank you so much!" he whispered.
He felt her gently lift his other leg and adjust his position so that
it, too, was flat on the floor.
"Thank you, maam!" he whispered, almost weeping in relief. "Now if you
could just give me a hand to wriggle back your way ..."
He heard a seat in Row 16 being pulled down and the sound of someone
sitting.
Evidently, she had just wanted to make sure his outthrust legs didn't
attract unwanted attention.
"Why you heartless ...!" His curse was cut off by the return of the
weight on his testicles. The bitch was using his scrotum as a footrest,
again!
He blinked back hot tears of pain and frustration.
The teen's pretty face came into view, as she leaned forward to peer
down at him.
"How you doing down there?" she asked, her voice sounding strange ...
thick.
Ron froze. Something wasn't right here. She sounded ... different.
She looked ... different. She was looking down at him through heavily
hooded eyes, her pale cheeks flushed and her full lips parted. Her
breathing seemed rapid and shallow.
Ron had never feared a female before in his life, but here, entrapped
beneath the airplane seat, the expression on this young girl's face
terrified him.
"Good Lord!" Ron realized, "She's ... she's *aroused*!"
As much as he'd have liked to flatter himself that it was attraction for
him that had caused this reaction in the nasty teenager, he knew better.
"She's ... she's realized her dominance in this situation," he thought,
trembling. "And the possibilities are exciting her!".
Ron turned pale. He knew that he was, for all practical purposes,
almost completely helpless. The only limit to what she could do to him was
what she might risk in a public place.
"I should be safe from real injury," he tried to reassure himself.
But anything short of "real injury" ...
Smiling sadistically, she slipped one dainty foot from her shoe and held
it up for his inspection.
Like the rest of the young girl, her foot was lovely - soft, white, and
perfectly formed. Ron had never really been into "feet," but for the first
time in his life, he appreciated how a man could become sexually excited by
a woman's foot.
"Do you like my foot, old man?" the girl cooed, softly. "Does it make
you hard, looking at my foot?"
To Ron's shame, he realized that it did. He felt himself stiffen as he
gazed at the beautiful teen's petite foot, hovering about twelve inches
over his head.
With a sudden surge of fearful realization, he remembered that any
erection he might get would be visible to the sadistic blonde bitch in 16B,
not to mention any other passengers or crew who happened to glance over or
walk by!
Ron jerked his mind from the thought and tried to regain control.
"I can't react!" he told himself. "I can't get an erection! Not here!
Not now!"
"Yeah," the teen breathed softly, hands unconsciously rising to stroke
her erect nipples, through her top. "You do, don't you, you old pervert!?
You *do* like my feet." Her breathing had become heavy and a noticeably
ragged.
Ron tried to think of nonsexual things.
"Would you like to kiss them?" she murmured, daintily dangling one
gorgeous foot over his face. Ron emphatically shook his head "no!"
"Yeah," she whispered, ignoring him. "I'll bet you would, wouldn't you!
You want to kiss them, don't you!"
Slowly, she lowered her leg until the sole of her foot brushed his lips.
The odor stunned him.
He didn't know how many months or years the girl had encased her
sockless, bare feet in the their grungy canvas prisons, but the effect was
truly astounding! Ron had never been subjected to such a powerful, pungent
scent in his life.
"Go ahead," she urged. "Kiss them! I'll let you."
"Good God!" Ron gasped, turning his head. "Your feet *stink*!"
He realized, immediately, that he should have been more ... diplomatic.
He knew that he was in no position to tick off the foul-tempered girl
sitting above him! But the strong smell had caught him by surprise and he
had reacted without thinking.
Looking up at her anger-infused face, he regretted his unthinking
protest.
"Look," he offered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just that
..."
She pressed her pretty foot down onto his face, cutting off his apology.
Ron was stunned. Before he could react, she had slid the other foot out
of its sweaty confinement and placed that one down on his face, as well.
Both of her hot, sweat-moistened feet curled around his face, heels
pressing over his mouth and the soles of her feet covering his eyes, both
feet pressing together to entrap his nose.
Ron snorted defensively, trying to force the offending smell from his
tortured nose, attempting to shake his head free from the young girl's
clinging, sweaty, stinking feet. But she used the leverage of her weight
to pin his head against the floor.
He tried to breathe shallowly, through his mouth, but the stench was so
strong, he could literally taste, as well as smell, the odor of the girl's
feet - just by breathing!
"Damn it girl!" he muttered, half smothered by her heels, "Don't you
know anything about *hygiene*?!?" He continued to curse and plead even as
he twisted to try and free his imprisoned face.
He froze as he felt the base of his fully erect penis being firmly
clasped.
What was happening?!? Why did he have an erection? Was it possible
that he was ... excited ... by what was happening?
"Impossible!" Ron thought.
In his shock, he had stopped struggling and the teen continued to
happily press her sweaty feet down on his face.
His startled wonderment was derailed by a slow, delicious stroking that
ran along the length of his exposed cock.
In a surreal flash of awareness, Ron suspected what must be happening:
The bitchy blonde woman was fondling him with her feet! The base of his
cock must be imprisoned between the big toe and second toe of her left
foot, while she used the toes and sole of her right foot to stroke him.
Ron moaned in unwanted pleasure as her foot slowly stroked him again.
"Oh, so you *like* sniffing my feet, do you!?" he heard the cruel teen
murmur from above. "I knew you were a fucking pervert, old man!"
Ron tried to protest ... to tell her that he *hated* her stinking feet
in his face, and was reacting to the coerced masturbation he was being
subjected to by the bitch in 16B!
With a sudden insight, Ron realized what the blonde bitch's game was!
The cruel teen must be only marginally aware of the row behind her, but the
sadistic woman in Row 16 ... she probably knew what the domineering teen in
Row 15 was subjecting him to! The blonde in 16B must *know* about the
humiliation he was suffering at the hands of this teenage bitch and had
decided she'd add to it!
Seeing his penis involuntarily react to the teen's abuse must have given
the blonde an inspiration, realizing that if she could make him climax
while the hateful under-aged bitch dominated him, it would raise his
humiliation to astronomical levels!
Ron struggled furiously, but was unable to free himself from either of
his cruel tormentors.
"No!" he tried to shout, furious at being victimized by this tag-team
subjugation. "I'll be damned if I give that blonde bitch the satisfaction!"
But his protests were muffled by the pretty teen's beautiful, odiferous,
damp feet -- and the sensual stroking in Row 16 was also taking its toll.
Another small moan of unwelcome pleasure escaped from between his
tightly clenched lips.
"Yeah," he heard the teen murmur huskily, as she gazed down at him.
"You really get off on having my feet in your face, don't you!" She leaned
further forward. swiveling her toes to each side, in order to look into
his eyes.
"Suck my toes," she whispered, face deeply flushed with arousal.
Ron stared at her, unable to believe what was happening.
The pretty brunette gently slid the toes of her right foot along his
tightly clenched lips. "Suck them, you old pervert! Take my foot in your
mouth and give it a good tongue-bath!"
Ron stared at her, anger and resentment mounting. "I'd die before I let
you put your filthy, reeking foot in my mouth!" he muttered.
Flushing angrily, the frustrated teen plopped her feet back on the
floor, on either side of his head and slid off the seat. Squatting above
him, she delivered a stinging slap to his face, rocking his head to the
left.
The young girl's ivory-cotton-clad crotch hovered over Ron's chest, less
than a foot from his face. From here, he had an excellent view of the
young girl's panties - not just the crotch shot. His eyes took in the
sides of her cotton briefs.
With a start of revulsion, he realized that her panties were originally
white.
He couldn't bring himself to think about why the crotch was
ivory-colored.
But he had worse with which to deal: If he had thought her *feet*
smelled bad, the teenager's sweaty, unwashed crotch made them seem like a
bouquet of roses.
"Good Lord!" he choked, eyes watering. "Don't you ever bathe?!?" His
reward was another series of hard slaps to his undefended face.
When his eyes could focus again, he saw the pretty young girl still
glowering down at him. He became suddenly fearful, remembering that in his
current state of helplessness, the sadistic little bitch could, literally,
do almost anything to him!
Her expression of anger was slowly replaced by a cruel look of
inspiration.
"Oh shit!" Ron thought, his blood running cold. "She must have realized
the same thing - that I don't really have any defense options!" He closed
his eyes, bracing himself for the next blow.
Instead of punching him, though, the girl stood almost upright.
Ron slowly opened his eyes, confused. The teen towered over him, her
long, pale legs like pillars on each side of his head.
Crouching slightly so as not to attract attention, she hiked up her
short skirt and pulled off her panties.
"You should BE so lucky as to get close to my crotch, you filthy old
pervert!" she hissed. "You'd *never* get a chance to be intimate with a
beautiful, young girl like me!"
Holding up the panties so he could see them, she smiled down at him.
Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming urge to flee. But, pinned under the
seat, as he was, he knew escape was impossible.
"If you don't like the smell, maybe it's because it's been so long since
a disgusting old man like you has actually HAD a real woman!" she told him.
With an unexpectedly quick movement, she pulled the panties over his head.
"There!" she said, with an air of satisfaction. Now you'll get a chance
to become ... adjusted ... to the scent of a real woman!"
She reached down and tugged the cotton crotch panel firmly into
position, over his nose and mouth.
Ron almost passed out from the stench. The awful smell of urine,
unwashed pussy, and sweaty ass swept through his sinuses like a tidal wave,
seeming to permeate his entire head.
How could such an attractive young girl have such a nasty, unwashed
crotch, he wondered, briefly?!? The overwhelming smell made him want to
retch.
"Oh my God," he whimpered. "Kill me! Kill me, now!"
Part one is here http://www.mistressdestiny.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1373588#post1373588
Panicked at being in such a vulnerable position, he struggled furiously
to free himself. But there was no going forward or backward. Ron realized
that he was well and truly stuck under the middle seat of Row 15.
Mercifully, the kicks had ceased.
"Thank God for that, at least," Ron thought, trying to clear his head.
"Maybe the bitchy blonde does actually have an ounce of human compassion in
her."
Slowly, the spots that had been dancing before his closed eyes faded and
his mind began to refocus through the residual clouds of pain. His ragged
breathing slowed, but he continued to gasp as he lay on his back. He tried
to ignore the claustrophobic sensation of not being able to move his arms.
Slowly, Ron opened his eyes, trying to assess his situation.
As he'd surmised, he was, indeed, lying on his back, firmly wedged under
the middle seat of Row 15.
His arms were firmly trapped at his sides, pinned by the metal 15B
seat-foundation, with his waist almost directly under the seat back and his
feet propped up against the upright cushion of Seat 16B. He felt his legs
forced back as someone lowered the seat to 16B. Someone raised his right
leg and brushed past.
What was going on? He wished he could see his old Row, but looking in
that direction, all he could see was the upright cushion of Seat 15B,
blocking his view.
The unseen person in Row 16 lowered Ron's right leg, allowing it to rest
on the now-lowered seat cushion.
Then he felt a flash of pain in his groin.
Some weight was pressing down on his testicles! The pain made his head
swim, momentarily.
It took him a while to realize what must be happening: Evidently, the
blonde bitch had nonchalantly retaken her original seat, 16B, and was using
his crotch as a ... a footrest!
"At least she took off her heels," Ron thought, with relief, shuddering
at the image of those nasty black spikes spearing into his tender parts.
As his eyes focused, he turned his eyes to evaluate his surroundings in
Row 15. Looking up, he found himself gazing directly up the obnoxious teen
girl's skirt, his head now lying directly between her feet as she towered
over him.
The young girl stood over him, looking down in shock and revulsion. He
found his gaze torn between the pretty girl's horrified, angry face and the
ivory-colored stretch of cotton covering her probably-underage crotch.
"You filthy PERVERT!" she gasped, raising one foot to stomp his face.
"No!" Ron pleaded. "Please! I ... I tripped! It was an accident! I
swear! I fell and now I'm stuck! Really! I didn't do this on purpose!"
The girl paused, sneakered foot still hovering threateningly above his
undefended face.
"Please!" he whispered. "You have to believe me! If you'd be so kind
as to help me out of this predicament, I'd be ever so grateful!"
She looked down at him, scowling in disbelief. "Surely she'll realize
this wasn't intentional and will help me out!" Ron thought. Even a nasty
bitch like her won't let me suffer like this!
Slowly, her expression changed. A cruel, sly smile stole over her face.
Ron felt his blood run cold.
This wasn't looking good.
"Really," she asked, almost conversationally. "You're really stuck?
You can't move?"
Ron nodded miserably. "Yes," he whispered. "Please help me!"
To his shock, anger, and humiliation, the young girl lowered the seat to
15B, turned, and sat down ... ignoring him. The edge of the seat was
almost directly over his chin, so his view of the cabin ceiling was not
blocked.
"Why you hateful little *bitch*!" Ron muttered, mortified. He felt
humiliated that *both* of these bitchy females were aware of his dilemma
... and neither could be bothered to help. He was even more terrified,
however, that more people would notice his degrading situation, causing an
embarrassing spectacle.
He couldn't call out, without attracting attention and further
mortification, but neither of the people close by could be bothered to
help.
What was he to do?
Desperately, he struggled to free himself.
To his surprise, he felt the weight lift from his aching, beleaguered
scrotum. Gentle hands grasped him behind his right knee and pull his leg
up and back, allowing him to ease it down to the floor.
Was it possible? Had he misjudged his blonde row companion? Was she
actually going to help him?
"Oh bless you!" he murmured, suddenly ashamed at all of the bad things
he had been thinking about his traveling companion. She gently laid his
right leg down on the floor, under Seat 16B.
"Thank you so much!" he whispered.
He felt her gently lift his other leg and adjust his position so that
it, too, was flat on the floor.
"Thank you, maam!" he whispered, almost weeping in relief. "Now if you
could just give me a hand to wriggle back your way ..."
He heard a seat in Row 16 being pulled down and the sound of someone
sitting.
Evidently, she had just wanted to make sure his outthrust legs didn't
attract unwanted attention.
"Why you heartless ...!" His curse was cut off by the return of the
weight on his testicles. The bitch was using his scrotum as a footrest,
again!
He blinked back hot tears of pain and frustration.
The teen's pretty face came into view, as she leaned forward to peer
down at him.
"How you doing down there?" she asked, her voice sounding strange ...
thick.
Ron froze. Something wasn't right here. She sounded ... different.
She looked ... different. She was looking down at him through heavily
hooded eyes, her pale cheeks flushed and her full lips parted. Her
breathing seemed rapid and shallow.
Ron had never feared a female before in his life, but here, entrapped
beneath the airplane seat, the expression on this young girl's face
terrified him.
"Good Lord!" Ron realized, "She's ... she's *aroused*!"
As much as he'd have liked to flatter himself that it was attraction for
him that had caused this reaction in the nasty teenager, he knew better.
"She's ... she's realized her dominance in this situation," he thought,
trembling. "And the possibilities are exciting her!".
Ron turned pale. He knew that he was, for all practical purposes,
almost completely helpless. The only limit to what she could do to him was
what she might risk in a public place.
"I should be safe from real injury," he tried to reassure himself.
But anything short of "real injury" ...
Smiling sadistically, she slipped one dainty foot from her shoe and held
it up for his inspection.
Like the rest of the young girl, her foot was lovely - soft, white, and
perfectly formed. Ron had never really been into "feet," but for the first
time in his life, he appreciated how a man could become sexually excited by
a woman's foot.
"Do you like my foot, old man?" the girl cooed, softly. "Does it make
you hard, looking at my foot?"
To Ron's shame, he realized that it did. He felt himself stiffen as he
gazed at the beautiful teen's petite foot, hovering about twelve inches
over his head.
With a sudden surge of fearful realization, he remembered that any
erection he might get would be visible to the sadistic blonde bitch in 16B,
not to mention any other passengers or crew who happened to glance over or
walk by!
Ron jerked his mind from the thought and tried to regain control.
"I can't react!" he told himself. "I can't get an erection! Not here!
Not now!"
"Yeah," the teen breathed softly, hands unconsciously rising to stroke
her erect nipples, through her top. "You do, don't you, you old pervert!?
You *do* like my feet." Her breathing had become heavy and a noticeably
ragged.
Ron tried to think of nonsexual things.
"Would you like to kiss them?" she murmured, daintily dangling one
gorgeous foot over his face. Ron emphatically shook his head "no!"
"Yeah," she whispered, ignoring him. "I'll bet you would, wouldn't you!
You want to kiss them, don't you!"
Slowly, she lowered her leg until the sole of her foot brushed his lips.
The odor stunned him.
He didn't know how many months or years the girl had encased her
sockless, bare feet in the their grungy canvas prisons, but the effect was
truly astounding! Ron had never been subjected to such a powerful, pungent
scent in his life.
"Go ahead," she urged. "Kiss them! I'll let you."
"Good God!" Ron gasped, turning his head. "Your feet *stink*!"
He realized, immediately, that he should have been more ... diplomatic.
He knew that he was in no position to tick off the foul-tempered girl
sitting above him! But the strong smell had caught him by surprise and he
had reacted without thinking.
Looking up at her anger-infused face, he regretted his unthinking
protest.
"Look," he offered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just that
..."
She pressed her pretty foot down onto his face, cutting off his apology.
Ron was stunned. Before he could react, she had slid the other foot out
of its sweaty confinement and placed that one down on his face, as well.
Both of her hot, sweat-moistened feet curled around his face, heels
pressing over his mouth and the soles of her feet covering his eyes, both
feet pressing together to entrap his nose.
Ron snorted defensively, trying to force the offending smell from his
tortured nose, attempting to shake his head free from the young girl's
clinging, sweaty, stinking feet. But she used the leverage of her weight
to pin his head against the floor.
He tried to breathe shallowly, through his mouth, but the stench was so
strong, he could literally taste, as well as smell, the odor of the girl's
feet - just by breathing!
"Damn it girl!" he muttered, half smothered by her heels, "Don't you
know anything about *hygiene*?!?" He continued to curse and plead even as
he twisted to try and free his imprisoned face.
He froze as he felt the base of his fully erect penis being firmly
clasped.
What was happening?!? Why did he have an erection? Was it possible
that he was ... excited ... by what was happening?
"Impossible!" Ron thought.
In his shock, he had stopped struggling and the teen continued to
happily press her sweaty feet down on his face.
His startled wonderment was derailed by a slow, delicious stroking that
ran along the length of his exposed cock.
In a surreal flash of awareness, Ron suspected what must be happening:
The bitchy blonde woman was fondling him with her feet! The base of his
cock must be imprisoned between the big toe and second toe of her left
foot, while she used the toes and sole of her right foot to stroke him.
Ron moaned in unwanted pleasure as her foot slowly stroked him again.
"Oh, so you *like* sniffing my feet, do you!?" he heard the cruel teen
murmur from above. "I knew you were a fucking pervert, old man!"
Ron tried to protest ... to tell her that he *hated* her stinking feet
in his face, and was reacting to the coerced masturbation he was being
subjected to by the bitch in 16B!
With a sudden insight, Ron realized what the blonde bitch's game was!
The cruel teen must be only marginally aware of the row behind her, but the
sadistic woman in Row 16 ... she probably knew what the domineering teen in
Row 15 was subjecting him to! The blonde in 16B must *know* about the
humiliation he was suffering at the hands of this teenage bitch and had
decided she'd add to it!
Seeing his penis involuntarily react to the teen's abuse must have given
the blonde an inspiration, realizing that if she could make him climax
while the hateful under-aged bitch dominated him, it would raise his
humiliation to astronomical levels!
Ron struggled furiously, but was unable to free himself from either of
his cruel tormentors.
"No!" he tried to shout, furious at being victimized by this tag-team
subjugation. "I'll be damned if I give that blonde bitch the satisfaction!"
But his protests were muffled by the pretty teen's beautiful, odiferous,
damp feet -- and the sensual stroking in Row 16 was also taking its toll.
Another small moan of unwelcome pleasure escaped from between his
tightly clenched lips.
"Yeah," he heard the teen murmur huskily, as she gazed down at him.
"You really get off on having my feet in your face, don't you!" She leaned
further forward. swiveling her toes to each side, in order to look into
his eyes.
"Suck my toes," she whispered, face deeply flushed with arousal.
Ron stared at her, unable to believe what was happening.
The pretty brunette gently slid the toes of her right foot along his
tightly clenched lips. "Suck them, you old pervert! Take my foot in your
mouth and give it a good tongue-bath!"
Ron stared at her, anger and resentment mounting. "I'd die before I let
you put your filthy, reeking foot in my mouth!" he muttered.
Flushing angrily, the frustrated teen plopped her feet back on the
floor, on either side of his head and slid off the seat. Squatting above
him, she delivered a stinging slap to his face, rocking his head to the
left.
The young girl's ivory-cotton-clad crotch hovered over Ron's chest, less
than a foot from his face. From here, he had an excellent view of the
young girl's panties - not just the crotch shot. His eyes took in the
sides of her cotton briefs.
With a start of revulsion, he realized that her panties were originally
white.
He couldn't bring himself to think about why the crotch was
ivory-colored.
But he had worse with which to deal: If he had thought her *feet*
smelled bad, the teenager's sweaty, unwashed crotch made them seem like a
bouquet of roses.
"Good Lord!" he choked, eyes watering. "Don't you ever bathe?!?" His
reward was another series of hard slaps to his undefended face.
When his eyes could focus again, he saw the pretty young girl still
glowering down at him. He became suddenly fearful, remembering that in his
current state of helplessness, the sadistic little bitch could, literally,
do almost anything to him!
Her expression of anger was slowly replaced by a cruel look of
inspiration.
"Oh shit!" Ron thought, his blood running cold. "She must have realized
the same thing - that I don't really have any defense options!" He closed
his eyes, bracing himself for the next blow.
Instead of punching him, though, the girl stood almost upright.
Ron slowly opened his eyes, confused. The teen towered over him, her
long, pale legs like pillars on each side of his head.
Crouching slightly so as not to attract attention, she hiked up her
short skirt and pulled off her panties.
"You should BE so lucky as to get close to my crotch, you filthy old
pervert!" she hissed. "You'd *never* get a chance to be intimate with a
beautiful, young girl like me!"
Holding up the panties so he could see them, she smiled down at him.
Suddenly, he felt an overwhelming urge to flee. But, pinned under the
seat, as he was, he knew escape was impossible.
"If you don't like the smell, maybe it's because it's been so long since
a disgusting old man like you has actually HAD a real woman!" she told him.
With an unexpectedly quick movement, she pulled the panties over his head.
"There!" she said, with an air of satisfaction. Now you'll get a chance
to become ... adjusted ... to the scent of a real woman!"
She reached down and tugged the cotton crotch panel firmly into
position, over his nose and mouth.
Ron almost passed out from the stench. The awful smell of urine,
unwashed pussy, and sweaty ass swept through his sinuses like a tidal wave,
seeming to permeate his entire head.
How could such an attractive young girl have such a nasty, unwashed
crotch, he wondered, briefly?!? The overwhelming smell made him want to
retch.
"Oh my God," he whimpered. "Kill me! Kill me, now!"