My most memorable face-sitter

[nosypucker]

I had an affair with a girl a couple of years ago that was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. I was twenty-seven at the time, and my love life had been a normally active one. One Sunday morning I'd planned to play a couple of sets at the local swim and tennis club. When I got there, I found that my opponent had called in sick. I was going to be charged for the court time anyway, so I asked the club pro to set up a match with somebody as near my own level as he could. He came up with Linda. Even though he usually knows what he's doing, she didn't look as if she'd give me much competition. What I did think, however, was that a girl with a body like that wouldn't have to play good tennis to be welcome. To my chagrin, she wound up beating me in straight sets, with a serve as good as any man I've ever faced.
Later, over a drink, I learned that she'd been a tennis champ in high school, good enough to reach the semifinals in the state tournament for her age group. Now, just turned twenty, she was attending college on a partial tennis scholarship. (As it turned out, I might have done well to pay more attention to the fact that she was majoring in Psychology.)
One thing led rather delightfully to another, and we eventually wound up at my apartment. She turned out to be an exciting sex partner, and I wanted more. After we'd been going out together for a few weeks, I managed to persuade her to move in with me. That was when her attitude seemed to change--not overnight, but over not too long a period, either. As I said, she'd been sexy and passionate and fantastically responsive right from the beginning. I was completely overwhelmed, so much so that it took me far too long to recognize that her responsiveness was on a sliding scale that seemed to depend solely on my degree of cooperation with her desires of the moment.
For instance, one night (I'm quite sure it was on only our fourth or fifth date) we were getting ready to make love. I was covering her with kisses in kind of a kidding manner. I'd gone down on her on the previous two dates, and her response had been so enthusiastic that I found myself looking forward to repeating the experience. I was kissing down her body, trying to tease her before I reached my goal. I couldn't help noticing that she was much more controlled than in previous sessions, when cunnilingus had really seemed to turn her on. The lack of reaction this time made me wonder whether I was doing a satisfactory job. Just about the time my lips dipped below the level of her navel, she rolled over suddenly. I paused in surprise, but then she wriggled a little, as if impatient for me to continue, so I went on kissing down her spine. As my lips got nearer her asscheek she began to moan a little in pleasure. That, of course, inspired me to pay some added attention to that lovely curve, which induced an even stronger reaction.
She murmured something to the effect that I had no idea how that was turning her on. Of course, turning her on was what I had in mind, so I spent quite a lot of time kissing the cheeks of her ass. If the truth be told, her reaction made me just as excited at doing it as she seemed to be at having it done to her.
From then on, that became part of our love-making routine, something I was expected to do, rather than something new and different that turned her on wildly. But she was so sexy and her ass was so shapely that I didn't mind at all, even when she decided a night or so later that the thing that would really turn her on would be to sit on my face while I kissed her ass.
I'm sure you can see the pattern forming already, but I didn't. I just kept searching for the new thing that would elicit that thrilling response from her, and feeling proud of myself that I always seemed to be able to pick up enough subtle clues from her so that she ended up uncontrollably (apparently) moaning and squirming. The progression, while inexorable, was gradual, and her performances were convincing enough so that I didn't realize at any given time how her control over me was growing. (In fact, I was actually under the impression that I was broadening her horizons.)
Pretty soon she had expanded my duties to the point that, when she dried off after her shower, it was my job (although I still considered it my happy prerogative) to kneel behind her and kiss her lovely bottom. After a while she didn't bother trying to be persuasive any more; she'd just ask playfully, "Ready to kiss my ass, Jay?" and then turn around without waiting for my reply. Of course, she knew that I was always ready, so there was no danger of my refusing.
From there, it seemed almost a natural transition to the next step, which consisted of Linda dropping her robe, turning away from me, and arrogantly ordering me to "Kiss my ass!" The first time she gave that blunt command, I hesitated in surprise. When I didn't leap to obey, she seemed to freeze for a moment. Then she moved as if to turn around, and I found myself hastening to drop to my knees. Once again, the squirms and moans suggested that my obedience was a real turn-on.
As a result, I quickly reached the point where being ordered around didn't bother me a bit. I did try to draw the line when I thought her demands were out of line. For instance, I adjusted pretty well to being commanded when to kneel and when to lie down, and what to kiss, etc. I was taken aback one night, though, while she was sitting on my face facing my feet, when she decided to reach down and hold my head in position. Then, as I lay there, my nose more or less trapped between her cheeks, she wriggled and spread her knees somehow so that she bore down firmly on my face. I knew very well what part of her was being forced against my mouth, but I was able to tolerate it by keeping my my lips closed tightly. I got away that night without doing any more than that, but she made it obvious that the ass-kissing I was doing wasn't enough to turn her on the way it had previously. I would have had to be awfully slow not to get the connection.
All the same, I was taken aback the next night when she stated, as I knelt behind her kissing her ass, that it was time I learned to "finish the job". It turned out that what she wanted was to be French-kissed rectally. The thought of doing that was repugnant to me. My expression must have reflected how I felt, because she issued an ultimatum: Either I did what she wanted, or she'd pick up and leave.
To understand my position, you have to realize that Linda was by far the sexiest and most attractive girl I'd ever gone out with. Not only that, my sex life recently had been the most thrilling I'd ever known, despite the fact that I was being dominated. Even the implied putdown of having to kiss her ass on command hadn't really been a turn-off, either. I'd reached the stage by then where being ordered by Linda to get down on my knees excited me every bit as much as having intercourse would have done a couple of months earlier.
"Finishing the job" just didn't appeal to me sexually at all. I wished desperately that she'd let me pass on that one, but Linda had no intention of relinquishing control. I watched from my knees as she turned completely around very slowly, letting my hungry eyes feast on her. When I'd had plenty of time to absorb the image, she asked, "Am I so unattractive that any part of me disgusts you? Don't you think I'm clean enough?"
She wasn't asking the question to get an answer. My actions in recent weeks clearly demonstrated how attractive I thought she was; I'd also commented more than a few times on the fact that she was one of the cleanest people I've ever met. We both knew that she was really saying: "This is what you're giving up if you're not willing to perform this little service to make me happy. Is it worth it?"
It was no contest, as I'm sure you've already guessed. In no time at all I was doing all the French kissing she could have asked for, and finding out that not only wasn't it fatal, it was even kind of thrilling, in a degrading sort of way. And my abject surrender seemed to turn her on even more than usual. The very next night she made me "finish the job" while she sat on my face, and pretty soon that had become just part of our routine.

[nosypucker]

I don't want you to think I was so dumb or carried away that I didn't realize by then that I'd been turned into little more than a sex slave. Still, as long as I was loving it, I wasn't about to rock the boat. I've finally come to realize (nearly two years later) that Linda's erotic philosophy, her technique of domination, was based on never being satisfied with the status quo. I can see that it wasn't the acts themselves that turned her on as much as the pleasure of breaking me to her will, of making me go one step beyond what I was willing to do. Every time I showed myself willing to accept one humiliation, she was ready to push me to yet another limit. In retrospect, her modus operandi is obvious; at the time I blamed it on pure capriciousness, because that's what I wanted to believe.)
Shortly before she finally broke up with me and moved out, she bestowed my first "golden shower". I honestly had no idea why she wanted me to lie down in the bathtub until she was straddling my body. As thoroughly unpleasant as that experience was, she wound up sitting on my face (my reward for accepting my humiliation was to get to clean her off with my mouth afterwards) and acting so turned on that I had a major climax of my own. When she ordered me into the bathtub again the next night, I obeyed even though I knew what was coming.
By the third night, I was mentally prepared for it, but this time she didn't seem to be in any hurry to begin. She stood over me in the tub playing with herself and talking about what she'd done to me the last couple of nights. It took a couple of minutes before it dawned on me that she was letting me know that she realized that I hadn't really enjoyed it, no matter how much it had turned her on. Therefore, she'd decided that it wouldn't be right to do it again. I would have been relieved to hear that, except that turning her on was the thing that would turn me on. I listened impatiently, wanting to have her sitting on my face again, whatever it took, but it seemed clear that all she was going to do was talk.
Suddenly, to my amazement, I found myself asking her to give me a golden shower. That was bad enough, but what was worse, she refused to do it. She said I didn't sound "sincere" enough. Believe it or not, I wound up actually begging her to piss on me. What's more, it took some industrial strength pleading before she graciously gave in and deigned to baptize me once again. As you've probably guessed, my begging really turned her on.
If I'd realized that first day on the tennis court the kind of pitiful creature she would turn me into, I'd have run, not walked, away from her. Somehow, being led step by step into humiliation with sexual excitement as the lure made each plateau on the trip down a hard-to-refuse choice, until begging to be pissed on was just another small rung on the ladder of my debasement. She even asked me one night if I'd ever heard of a "brown shower" and, when I admitted I hadn't, explained with some relish just what it consisted of. Fortunately, I think that was a little much, even for Linda, although she might have followed through if she'd ever got the idea that I was defying her. Before she was through with me, I had served almost every outrageous feminine whim I'd ever imagined and a lot more that I'd never dreamed even existed.
I could always tell when Linda had a bad day at work, because she'd degrade me even more than usual. There were a couple of times when she got particularly worked up and slapped me, and one night when she even kicked me, but that kind of physical abuse luckily never really became part of our routine. She never wanted to whip or spank me, or torture me, thank God. She got all the kicks she needed from debasing me. Before Linda, I would never have let a woman slap me or even insult me; I was a typical Joe Macho, but I couldn't even imagine refusing her in any way. I put up with everything she felt like doing to me, and only hoped that she wouldn't decide to do even more.
Once she decided to leave, she wasted no time. She came home one night and broke the news to me right away that the summer was over and so were we. It was back-to-school time, and she was moving out the next day. It was the worst moment of my life. I suddenly found myself weeping like a baby. Like the skilled psychologist that she was, she didn't try to soothe me or show any pity. What she did instead was put me through my paces, making me do every one of the things she'd taught me to do in the several weeks we'd been together. (I've often wondered since then what her master's thesis was about. I've decided I really don't want to know.)
When she finally did leave, she left me on my knees, crying and begging her not to go, and I swear she looked happier than I'd ever seen her. The last thing she did was to permit me to kiss her ass, after I begged long and loud for the privilege. You can be sure she got her French kiss, too, because I sensed that would keep her there a few moments longer.
It took me a couple of years and a few failed romances to get over her to the point that I could relax and think about my time with her. Even today, no matter how much I try to kid myself, I know that if she walked into the room and looked at me over her shoulder the way I remember her best, I'd be right down there on my knees in a split second "finishing the job," and sobbing my thanks to her for allowing me the honor.

[Rich]

It's interesting; I find myself wishing that I could find a woman like that to use and absue me.
Then again, I don't know if I would be able to take that kind of thing in the real world.
Sometimes I think fantasy and reality are for sure different places to visit.
One can only wonder how much real abuse one can really take.
Thank you so very much for the great story. :)

[Logan]

Rich I think you have something there. I know that fantasy can be so much more then when it is really experienced. Some how reality is somewhat diminished by what one thinks he or she believes it will be. But never give up the imagination because if it wasn't for that then we would never progress. Keep the dream!

[al-uk]

Must admit its my dream to find a pretty woman who demands I lick her arse - to me its always been the right thing to do while being facesat.

[luv2betrampled]

Nosypucker, thanks for the great story of your experience - well written and conveyed.

And as for you Rich, our thoughts seem to mirror quite often. I often read your responses and think to myself, "Well, there's no need to respond to this thread, Rich already did." :)

One of my problems is that being sexually dominated is intensely arousing to me, but my independent side won't allow my life to be dominated by anyone. I know, it's a paradox.


Andre

[Rich]

I hear ya!
In my fantasy world I would be used finality, emotionally, & physically.
And yet the woman I chose to marry is not at all that type of person.
Oh well; the mind is a place where many strange things happen sometimes.

[E.Rotique]

What a thought provoking read! So Eloquently wriiten too. For all the pain and humiliation you suffered at the hands of your tormenting partner, you certainly have enough experience to write a damn good exclusive!

Your story seems like something straight out of Playboy, Penthouse, FHM, whatever. Very professional!

I note that you had seven years on your then twenty year old girlfriend. Despite her being a psychology student and having the self assurance that beauty and brains often bring, it's astounding to read that she had so much mind power and the apparent confidence to follow through with her devious desires. She seems to have had an enormous appetite for sexual deviations which can only be described as unnatural for a twenty year old, let alone a twenty year old girl.

Having said that, how most of us sex crazy males would just love to taste the forbidden fruit of just such a temptress! You were pussy whipped by a real pro (psychologicaly speaking) and had it rubbed right in your face.

But it was a case of 'kiss my ass and kiss me goodbye!'. If you had not gone along with her games would she have shown you more respect? It's almost a case of traditional role reversal.

Did you still make normal love before or after she got what she wanted from you? And did she riciprocate the oral favours?

I also wonder if you shared more in the relationship than just sex? Don't get me wrong, sex can be an all encompassing passion and we've all been there or would like to be. I'm just asking whether you went out on dates, for dinner, to the movies, clubs etc. Did she have other friends that she introduced you to?

It seems like she only wanted you for sex (where have us men heard that before!). Try complaining to your mates about it and watch the expression on their faces turn into one of sheer disbelief. They would all give their right arm for a girl that treated them as just such a sex object!

After all is said and done, truthfully, what is it that you were most upset about? The perceived lack of respect given by your girlfriend or the fact that she was gone forever?

I think you already gave us the answer.

:cry: :sadcry: :thumbsup: ;)