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On a damp early Spring afternoon several days after my time up at Melannie’s Playhouse I strolled entranced, the gray light of that cool day glancing starkly off wet pavements. I was no longer sore in every muscle, no longer exhausted. Sounds of workaday traffic whisking by were almost soothing to my ears. I was strangely at peace with the world. There was the oddest spring in my step, and I felt more fit and alive than I had in years.
Melannie had brought me to a small efficiency on the second floor of a nondescript building around the corner from Secrets. She said I could remain till I got my strength and wits back, but then I was to return to Secrets. I had slept most of the time, a sleep of extraordinary and highly restorative duration. Although my strength and most of my wits had indeed returned, it was evident I was no longer my own man. I felt deeply changed somehow, and my eagerness to follow Melannie’s order to get back to Secrets as soon as possible was easily obeyed..
I had never been in Secrets this early. There were no customers. Except for the lights behind the bar, the club was dark. Taking a seat midway down the bar, I sat at once poised and relaxed, entirely at home. With nothing more pressing on my agenda, I began a slow inventory of my condition.
Although my body no longer seemed my own, I was yet more intimate with it now than I had ever been. I knew so much more where its deepest resonances resided, and I knew so much more about how much it could tolerate. On the wall at Melannie’s Playhouse I’d been taught secrets about myself, which I now sat in Secrets pondering. It seemed I must be shining, so glowing did I feel.
I knew erotic pain was as stimulating to me as erotic pleasure, and that yes, my appetite for that special kind of pain was thoroughgoing … and I knew that the peculiar humiliation that was so easily a part of erotic pain also was now as much a pleasure to me as orgasm, and that the combination of pain and humiliation could cause long and complicated transports that turned me delirious with their ongoing complexities … I knew mere ejaculation was but one of many possible sexual delights available to me now. Idly, I wondered if humiliation itself was the mysterious factor that had me in such a fine state of mind and body, utterly enthralled.
My body was more strangely responsive than I had ever imagined, and there were women in this world who were fierce teachers of that very mystery. Secrets was one place where such women came, and the instruction of promising acolytes such as myself was one of their principal activities. The days and nights on the wall up at Melannie’s Playhouse were my finishing school, and now I was back in Secrets, ready for what came next.
At last a barmaid appeared, an older lady, short and substantial. She reminded me a bit of Aunt Em from up at the Playhouse, although this lady’s eyes were much warmer. Nor was her husky body nearly that gross seeming — she was clearly more at home in her abundant flesh, warmer and more relaxed. I liked her immediately.
“You would be, let me see — Ra’s Elf?” She reached across the bar and took my hand. “I’m Doris. Melannie told me you’d be in eventually.” Her grip was firm and friendly, like her voice: “What’ll it be?”
I bent to Doris’ hand and kissed it, watching her eyes as I did so. She was amused, but there was no hint of contempt … “Do you know how I recognized you, Ra’s Elf,” she asked. “When Melannie said you’d be in eventually, she said I would recognize you because you would look like a man who had come home from far, far away — and that’s exactly what you do look like! Welcome home.”
“You are so very kind, Doris. Could I have a beer?”
“No, you cannot, my friend. I only asked because I’m a creature of habit and I always ask, but I’ve been told that you must now drink Courvoisier, that you must sip the cognac slowly, and that as long as you sip it slowly, it will be on the house. Melannie wants you to be our Friendly Man, but she insists that Secrets new Friendly Man show class. No more beer for Ra’s Elf.” Doris grinned at me, then turned to fetch my new drink.
When I sipped the cognac its warmth touched me in all my new awareness. Like an intimate caress it radiated within me, complementing my sense of peace while at the same time ever so lightly asking after my zones of arousal. I could feel a tingling tease in my flesh, and the pleasure was most welcome.
“That didn’t take long,” Doris noted, after I had had but a single sip. “I can always tell a new convert … your eyes are wet, but happy.”
She went back to wherever she had emerged from, leaving me to my thoughts. I could hear a radio dimly in the back somewhere, tuned to KNOP, the jazz station, and it dawned on me how utterly different Secrets was at this time of day, like a waiting chapel, and I felt very elegant with my cognac, all alone in what I now imagined as the Chapel of Knowing Women. I was canlı bahis their Friendly Man sipping, an instrument for their enjoyment whenever they should choose to appear. The role was absolutely splendid, I decided.
When Doris reappeared, she had changed clothes. Although a bulky sort of woman, she certainly knew how to catch a Friendly Man’s eye … I liked the deep cleavage, I particularly liked her fetchingly wide hips, how they filled her snug dark slacks, and when she winked at me I wondered how long it would be before we became better acquainted.
“Maybe you’d better go see Melannie now,” Doris grinned. “She’s in the back … just follow the sound of the radio, and hey — take your cognac with you!”
Melannie’s office entrance might have been in the back, the last door past the restrooms, but the office itself fit in the center of the back of the club. It was a large room, its entire back half separated off by a floor length curtain. Along three of the walls were two-way mirrors, from which Melannie could keep tabs on the stage, the bar proper, and both restrooms.
“How’s your health, sport?” she asked. Melannie was seated at a desk, wearing a robe. Nothing Melannie did surprised me. Her state of near undress interested me simply because I expected nothing less than that she would appear in whatever fashion she chose, which made me wonder where it all would lead.
“I feel especially good today, Melannie. Extraordinarily so, like a new man. And thank you for the cognac … what a great drink it is!”
“Take those clothes off, Friendly Man … I want to see how all the bruises and lacerations are doing. That was quite an education you got.”
Standing there naked while Melannie walked around me seemed perfectly correct. I was, it dawned on me then, whatever Melannie decided I was. I would be only too happy to do whatever she demanded. I would stand naked in her office for hours on end, if that was what she required.
“It’s hard to believe, but not much shows. You took an enormous amount of abuse, and you took it well … my phone’s been ringing off the hook. Yet it appears abuse agrees with you! Who’d of thought? And now everybody wants to know what I’m going to do with you! You’re the talk of the town, Ra’s Elf, or at least of that part of the town that frequents my Playhouse. All the gals think you’re just the kind of loverly slut the joint needs. Imagine how sad and disappointed they’ll be when I let ’em know I have other plans for you!”
Melannie ran her hands simultaneously very slowly down from my neck, one hand down my front, the other down my back. My nipples were still terribly sensitive and as her front hand moved along I shuddered involuntarily, my nipples stiffening immediately. When she got to my testicles, she let out an audible gasp.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell?! Your balls are almost too fat to fit in my hand! You taking steroids or what?!”
Her other hand traced down my spine, which began to arch in a similar involuntary reaction. I could feel my male organ beginning to swell and I closed my eyes.
“Everything seems to be working,” she murmured, stepping behind me. Both of her hands palmed my buttocks and I felt the swelling of my cock assume a full blown erection. When she inserted a finger, I moaned softly. Unresisting, my sphincter caressed her finger’s probe. “I’m not going to fuck you, Ra’s Elf, even though I can tell you want me to fuck you … you want that very badly, don’t you?”
“It’s true,” I whispered, my breath already shallow and rapid. I moaned again as she removed her finger.
“I’m just checking you out, sport. Now, down on your knees … time to answer the magic question: can you still give deep ass worship, sweetie?”
Placing her hands on her desk and leaning her weight there, Melannie spread her legs. Leaning into her, I pressed the flat of my tongue squarely against her anus, and then began testing it, inserting my tongue’s tip. Melannie’s anal ring relaxed and my tongue slid deeply up into her rectum, deeper than I would of thought myself capable of going …
With my now burning face buried in Melannie hot butt, I was still able to hear Melannie on the intercom: “Doris, come in here, I need you … now!” Melannie had begun to respond to my probing worship, breathing harder. “I think your tongue got bigger!” she moaned.
“Take down your slacks and panties,” Melannie said to Doris as she entered the office, “come over here and lean forward on my desk with your legs spread. Ra’s Elf wants to introduce himself properly!”
Still naked on my knees, I manuevered myself behind the much larger hindquarters of the waiting barmaid. The deep crease between her cheeks enveloped me as I pressed into them, my tongue fully extended. At first her pucker was so tight I had to lick in rapid wee patterns all around the ring, loosening her up. When I’d try to get it into her, her sphincter would resist, so I’d have to go back to rapidly bahis siteleri licking in wet circles … over and over I tried to gain entrance, until suddenly Doris gave in and her anus totally relaxed and my tongue slid up into her in a rush. I curled my tongue around on the inside of her slackened ring, and began to slide it in and out, tongue-fucking her asshole. Doris grunted and gurgled, her growing abandonment made apparent by her alternately tightening and relaxing uncontrollably on my tongue, fucking me back, milking my tongue with the spasms of her anal embrace while her big butt-cheeks clamped against my face.
I knew Doris was reaching climax when her buttocks reared heavily onto my face and her anus went completely slack, my tongue so fully up in her that I could not get any deeper … her asshole’s spasming was rapid and powerful, clenching my tongue one second, going totally slack the next. I could hear her gasping. I was proud of the length and energy in my tongue, and its rooting up into Doris’ ass was protracted and deeply marvelous. I wanted to keep driving it up in her forever.
“What’re you guys doing, falling in love!?” Melannie barked, pulling my face out from Doris’ ass. “If I wanted ‘From Here To Eternity’ I’d’ve rented it! Tongue outta there, you greedy fuck! Pull up your slacks, girl!” Doris and I then stood side by side in front of Melannie’s desk, me still nude, her now dressed and ready to go back to work. I was hard as a bottle, grinning like a cat.
“He’s good, ain’t he, Doris? Gots tongue like a bitch in heat, I swear. And he can do that for days! I watched him worship ass after ass, take on gal after gal, over and over, and he got ’em all off! Then he did ’em all again! Wore ‘em all out and then begged us for more! Hell, and if you want to fuck him in his own pretty ass, he’ll do that, too! Loves it! And takes beatings you wouldn’t believe! Loves that, too! The man’s perfect, and that’s the truth. So how’d it feel?”
“It was … well … it was awful good, Melannie! He really goes way up … can’t say as how I’ve ever had a guy go that deep … or get me off so damned fast … he’s got a true gift … and that’s the Lord’s own truth!” Doris stammered, smiling with disconcerting shyness and wonder at me.
“I don’t want to hear another word about no damn lord and yeah, there ain’t nothing like having a well-trained gentle man’s long fat tongue tickling and diving up into your asshole — it’s a ride we all like to take. So many gals need to sit on their men, need to tame and deflower their cocky pride, so that when the man they get to sit on craves to please, to be sat on in just that muggy and suffocating way, and then the guy turns out to be as hungry for lapping butt humiliation as our boy here is! Well, Doris, don’t y’just know it — those pent-up ladies will pay cash money for some of that great ass worship! It’s a special thrill and they all want it, and they should all get it! Oh, this guy’s gonna do wonders for our afternoon trade, you just watch! Now go on back behind the bar, honey, while I tell Ra’s Elf what all I’ve got in mind for him and his thoroughly tongue-untied talents.”
After Doris left, Melannie stared at me strangely before blurting out: “I’ve heard of this kind of thing — older guy gets transformed, gains a whole new life for himself after long spell of heavy duty sexual torment on the wall — never saw it, but I’ve heard tell. You’re a better man now than you were, Ra’s Elf — even your goddamned tongue is bigger! Son of a bitch! Back on them knees now, Hot stuff! Momma’s butter needs more churnin’ oh yeah – bring on that wild deep tongue, Bubba . . . un-fucking-believable! A true medical miracle!”
And that was how I became the Friendly Man, on duty for the pleasuring of amply cushioned ladies in the afternoons at Secrets. Cognac was my drink, Ass Worship was my trade, and my tongue was my claim to fame because apparently it was all true. I not only couldn’t get enough of orally giving worship to abundant hindquarters, but my tongue was clearly bigger, and its size was still increasing! And my energy level was constantly high. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I could even see the transformation in my face — my worry lines were slowly fading away. My hair wasn’t growing back, but all other systems were on a fast track back thru time. I couldn’t recall ever feeling so feisty and willing and ready — in a word, hungry. The triple discipline of submission, humiliation, and never-ending ass worship were new leases on life. The more I bowed to the frantic and assertive cravings of those bawdy and hot-blooded larger women, the better I felt. I had found my place in life, at long last.
Days stretched into weeks, and finally time no longer mattered. Melannie would butt fuck me with her fearsome strap-ons and I would butt fuck her with my freaky tongue, and we’d go at each other like that all morning. Not even full afternoons of dining on endless bahis şirketleri strange women’s huge hineys could slow me down. So that once or twice a week, she had to let me go out on my own. Melannie called it “letting the dog out,” and I was truly grateful for her understanding.
It was usually in the early evening, so that I’d have time to follow my nose … Melannie liked the thought that something odd and funky would happen to me, something I could tell her about while I was helping her with her weight training in the mornings when nobody was around, something to get her into the mood to strap on the big one and proceed to fuck me silly. After I would already have pistoned her rectum with my tireless tongue for a spell, of course … Melannie was becoming truly addicted to the tricky, snaking thrills I could drive boldly up between her spread cheeks. A lesser woman would’ve fallen in love by now . . .
I would cruise the taverns and bars of the small river town casually, staring at the sleazy interactions and at all the varieties of flirtational oddness that caught my eye — I was rarely disappointed. After a long day of being the Friendly Man at Secrets, of kneeling down behind demanding big ladies and worshipping their wondrously well-endowed rear-ends, it was a distinct pleasure to gaze upon women who did not know my special talent, women who thought of me only as an unattached male who was afflicted with the usual horny male cunt-cravings. Oh, I was cocky on those nights, sly and dirty-minded as an elder, high and spunky as a lad. Sneaking up on some strange . . .
It was so very exquisite to be in normal-man drag, just another stiff dick hoping to have some anonymous woman take mercy on my rigid and utterly immoral condition. They didn’t have to know I’d spent the greater part of the early afternoon hours with my nose buried up in the ass cheeks of several variously squirmy ladies who knew me only as the wiggly long tongue that burrowed so willingly, so deeply, uninhibitedly and inexhaustibly …
Rare though it was on my off-day rounds, I’d occasionally spot a jewel, an unsuspecting female of such extraordinary appeal that my fundamental instincts would become inflamed. Usually, such an unsuspecting female would be some married woman out on a momentary lark, out for a tipsy good time, a woman who did not expect to meet a man of my worshipful nature. Valerie was one such lass . . .
I first noticed Valerie at one of my favorite bars, Dillinger’s, a low dive that usually was very quiet till after the hours of ten or so. I’d stop by on my off nights right around seven, taking it easy to start with, cruising slow, just looking at whatever there was to see that seemed interesting.
Valerie was obviously married. And obviously stopping by for a few drinks after a shift at some local factory — she wore jeans and a sweatshirt and seemed to be entirely too jovial, as if the booze was goosing her spirits beyond the norm. She and two other gals were shooting pool, but not seriously — their chatter was non-stop, and the games they shot took forever.
Valerie was kind of short, not my taste in that department, but really well-hung from the chest — she was so top-drop-dead gorgeous and heavy her big breasts would shake and sway with a hypnotic motion when she stroked her shots on the pooltable … her bosoms were so full and pendulous they were spellbindingly out of proportion to her short stature. My guess was that she probably had two or three little yappers at home that she had to breast feed and I wondered what her nipples were like, if they had been suckled on so much that they, too, were in a state of exaggerated largesse … I figured that they were probably no longer particularly sensitive, that I would have to suck them long and hard to get her aroused, probably even have to pinch and tug on them some to get her going. I was ready, of course, for all of that.
She’d spread her legs when she bent to the balls, and her thighs were strong and her hips were wide. It was the usual thing with me — I was always such an absolute sucker for the heavier type gals and I just couldn’t tear my eyes away, and finally, in the worst kind of abject worship, I put my small change upon the rail. Valerie’s two companion gals sized me up as I placed my coins, both of them also in jeans and sweatshirts. One of them was a dirty blond. The other was a tallish Black gal.
I loved it when strange women sized me up — their glances were like subtle probes between my legs, and I would invariably start getting an erection. Valerie’s friends glanced with ill-concealed avidity at the swelling that distorted my trousers. I stood off to the side awaiting my turn, leaning and letting my swelling be apparent and obvious, not seeming, myself, to be aware of it — I wanted my arousal to appear to be something I did not know the women could see. Such coyness invariably worked, simply because the women always saw right thru me. Still, it was my great pleasure to pretend I didn’t know they were cutting glances at my growing interest. The more I pretended to be unaware, the more the gals would leer. It was a game we all played, and sometimes it paid off.
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