Archive name:
Anthea Parfitt Part Two.HTM (F/F, FD hum)
Authors name:
SmotherFan ([email protected])
Story title:
Anthea Parfitt Part Two
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This work is
copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the last
full day of term. I already had my instructions from Tabatha for the summer. I
was allowed one week with my family before I reported to her at her families’
holiday cottage. I was supposed to be teaching Tabatha the final stages of her
maths course, but that was just the excuse. I also knew that before school
finished I would be handed over to the new head girl. Just like Miranda had
handed me onto Tabatha so Tabatha would hand me onto my next mistress.
On that last day Abigail found me with a message. “The senior
girls want you in their common room.” It wasn’t a request and Abigail didn’t
deliver it as one. I wondered how much she already knew about my position.
Abigail was Miranda’s younger sister. In a years time she would be in the
senior year and I guessed would also be the head girl. So in a year’s time I
would be serving her. It made no sense to be difficult. She would have the
opportunity to extract her revenge.
I
found my Mistress with Rebecca, Tabatha’s deputy. Tabatha had lent me to
Rebecca time and again. It was one of the differences between Miranda and
Tabatha. Whilst Miranda had only loaned me to Tabatha, so Tabatha had loaned me
out to a half dozen other girls.
There
were three other girls, all for the year below Tabatha. I guessed that one of
these must he the Head Girl designate. Rona, a slightly built red head: Fiona,
another blonde and Helen, an Asian girl whose parents had fled
“You took your time.” Tabatha snapped.
“I came as soon as I could.” I flustered. I was surprised at
Tabatha’s tone. It was her Mistress voice, yet there were strangers here.
“What am I? "She demanded.
“The Head Girl.” I answered, trying to stick to the official
roles that we both performed.
“What else, SLUT!” Tabatha demanded.
I honestly panicked. I knew where this was leading. It
brought me out in a cold sweat. “Please!” I whispered in desperation. I glanced
towards the couch where the other girls were sitting.
Tabatha got to her feet. At the same time I saw that Rebecca
was circling behind me. I heard the key click in the lock and then felt her
take my arms and pull them behind my back.
Tabatha came and stood before me, slowly she began to
unbutton my blouse. I tried to resist but Rebecca had hold of my wrists. In truth
she didn’t need any great strength. I was to conditioned to offer any real
resistance. She was so close that I could smell the booze on her breath.
There was a hush in the room. The other girls, those not in
on my slavery, sat in wrapped amazement as Tabatha with Rebecca’s assistance
stripped me down to my pants.
“Now! Get down on your knees.” Tabatha commanded and I
silently obeyed. “Better, look at me.” Tabatha demanded.
I stared up into the merciless face of my mistress.
“What am I?” she demanded to know.
“You’re my Mistress.” I said as clearly as I could muster. I
was barely conscious of the silence, which had fallen across the room. I tried
to focus my attention upon Tabatha, she was my Mistress and I knew that a happy
Mistress was far, far better than an angry one.
“So what are you?”
“A cunt licker.” I answered. I blushed furiously, not
through what I had said. Tabatha had forced me to say or do much worst, but I
was saying it in company. I heard a soft laugh coming from the direction of the
other girls. I didn’t dare look. I had my orders and I knew the consequences of
disobeying them.
Tabatha lifted her short skirt and pulled down her panties
to her knees. “Take them off! She demanded and I hurried to obey. “Now sniff
them!” she ordered.
It was the familiar routine. Tabatha liked me to sniff at
her knickers. I think that she enjoyed the sight of me with my nose buried in
her panties.
“What do they smell off?" She demanded to know.
“You Mistress, they smell of you.” I answered, pulling in
another sniff.
“Do you like that smell?” She asked.
“Yes Mistress.” It wasn’t quite a lie. I had become immune
to the smell and taste of another woman. Miranda had been right when she had
said that licking her cunt would seem to be the natural state of things. I had
transferred that to Tabatha and now I realised I was about to transfer to
another Mistress. I just didn’t know which one.
“Come here.” She had her skirt raised and her clean pink sex
glistened in my direction. I crawled over and placed my lips softly against her
cunt. I could smell and taste her, that familiar smell and taste of my
mistress. I looked up into her face, seeing that smirking, smile of triumph,
knowing deep down how I was humiliating myself and not being able to help
myself. Tabatha glanced across towards her audience. “I told you so.” She
laughed triumphantly. “You want to suck my cunt, don’t you?” She asked me.
“Yes Mistress.” I mumbled against the warm, spiky flesh of
her sex.
“Good.” She left me and sat down amongst her audience. She
opened her legs wide and gestured. I knew my place, on my hands and knee’s I
crawled between her legs and sank my mouth and tongue into the slinky folds of
her cunt. I felt her relax. It was a good sign. I didn’t think about the girls
surrounding us. I started to tongue fuck her, willing her to a climax.
Afterwards Tabatha left me naked on the carpet whilst she
dressed again. I had made her climax. I had done that a thousand times, so
often that I knew how to bring her off. I knew if she wanted a fast fuck or a
slow one. Tabatha was disdainful. “Why don’t you sample her talents? She likes
an arse in her face – don’t you cunt licker?”
“Yes Mistress.” I could still feel the remains of Tabatha’s
climax drying onto my face. I knew what was coming. Tabatha stood up and
gestured to me. Slowly I lay back, raising my hands above my head whilst
Tabatha turned towards my feet as she straddled me. I stared up her skirt and
she lowered herself onto my face. I had time for one last deep breath before
Tabatha blocked both my mouth and nose with her arse and cunt.
Tabatha mashed down hard, oblivious of my need for air. She
kept me like that, pinned beneath her until I started to fight for breath. She
moved enough for me to gasp a lungful of air before sinking back onto me.
“Won’t she suffocate?” Someone asked.
“If I sat here long enough, yes.” I heard Tabatha answer.
“We take her under sometimes.”
“What’s under?” Another of the audience asked.
“We suffocate her until she passes out.” She sounded so sure
and confident of herself, but then she had cause to be. I had been her property
for a whole year. It was coming to an end but I was so conditioned that she
could take me again and again and I would be unable to resist.
“What else?” The fascination the questioners voice was
obvious.
“What else?” Tabatha raised herself off me just long enough
for me to snatch another lungful of air. “Well, she sucks cunt. She’ll tongue
your arse if you want: tit sucking and licking: what ever turns you on. Tell
her and she’ll do It.” Idly Tabatha glanced back at me. “She really is very
obedient.” She sat down again. “You mustn’t think of her as a person, she is
just like furniture, treat her like a chair that can bring you off. If you need
to fart.” She paused long enough to fart. “Just fart. You could piss in her
mouth if you wanted to.” She sat back down so that I got the fully benefit if
her stinky little fart.
“She doesn’t mind!” Exclaimed someone.
“She has no choice in the matter.” Tabatha answered
disdainfully. “She is the head girls personal cunt sucker, that’s how it is.”
Tabatha wriggled across my face, farting noisily as she did.
She seemed to be able to fart at will. I didn’t care anymore. It was just part
of her domination of me. “Now who is first? Knickers on or off. I suggest you
keep them on till you get used to the sensation. The first time her nose is up
your arse can feel strange.” Tabatha got to her feet. “Well?”
I couldn’t
help but look towards my audience. They were all uncertain.
“What
about you Rona?” Tabatha asked.
“Later.
I want to see someone else do it first?” Rona replied.
“What
about you then?” Tabatha turned towards Fiona.
Fiona
shook her head. “I think that I’ll just watch.”
I
entertained the brief hope that they would all refuse and that I might escape
with the humiliation I had already suffered, but without suffering any further
indignation.
Helen
stood up, there was an evil, satisfied look on her face and I knew that I had
been wrong to hope for any escape or relief. “I’ll go first.” She announced.
She
came and straddled me. I tried not to look into her face but she made me. As
she pinned my head between her thin thighs she demanded that I look at her. I
was to conditioned not to obey.
Helen
had a long, sallow face, high cheekbones and dark, dark eyes.
“I
am next years Head Girl.” She smirked. “Do you know what that means?”
“Yes…Mistress.”
I answered.
“Are
you going to lick my cunt?” she asked.
“Yes
Mistress.” I answered, not thinking for once that Helen wasn’t my Mistress.
Helen
turned towards Tabatha. “I’d like to take her somewhere private. I don’t want
our first meeting to be so public.”
“Use
her room.” Tabatha suggested. She was obviously disappointed that she wasn’t
going to witness my initiation.
“I’ll
call you in later.” Helen answered.
“Do
that.” Tabatha answered with obvious bad grace.
Deprived
of their entertainment the other’s quickly left before Helen let me up.
“Get
dressed.” She ordered. “I have no desire to see you puny English tits.” She
stood up. “Quickly now.” She demanded.
……………………………………………………………………………..
“I
have never had a slave before.” Helen was lounging on my bed. She had made no
effort to christen my face and tongue. “But in HK we did have servants, and
they would do anything to please me. I mean anything.” She smiled and I
shivered. Helen was going to be as merciless and dominating as Tabatha.
I
was kneeling on the floor, at the bottom of the bed, looking at my new
Mistress. I wasn’t required to speak. I knew all to well that the role of a
slave didn’t include holding a conversation with your Mistress. You just did as
you were told.
Helen
swung her legs off the bed and slowly stood up. She was a short and slight
girl; a good fifteen pounds lighter than either of my previous Mistresses.
“In
HK we had a wonderful lifestyle.” Helen began. “Houses, boats, car’s, willing
servants. The family was something. We were important. Then the British handed
HK over to the Chinese. Oh! My father saw what was coming and we’d shipped most
of our money out to
“Yes
Mistress.” I answered, my throat suddenly dry and constricted.
“What
are you? I want to hear it from your own pathetic little mouth.” She had sat on
my chest by now.
“A
shitty English cunt licker.” I answered.
“Very
good. Now what did Tabatha say. You’ll do anything I ask?”
“Yes
Mistress.”
“Wipe
my arse?”
“Yes
Mistress.”
“See
to my periods?”
“Yes
Mistress.”
Helen
broke out into a smile. “I begin to see how well you have been trained.” She slid
forwards until my chin was below the hem of her skirt. “The Chinese are
superior to the English. I am superior to you. Say it!”
“The
Chinese are superior to the English. You are my superior in every way.” I
almost chanted it. Miranda and Tabatha had made me say similar things. It meant
nothing. I was so broken and trained that Helen didn’t need to reinforce her
superiority. I accepted it as an absolute.
Helen
hauled her skirt up to her waist and then moved forwards across my face. I
stared up into the stained and obviously damp crotch to her white panties. I
could smell her. She had a heavy scent when aroused, heavier than either
Miranda or Tabatha.
I
knew what was coming, with Tabatha; she had been too experienced to waste time
wearing her pants when she smothered me. Helen wasn’t so sure of herself, so
she’d start off by wearing her pants. It meant that the moment when I tasted
her was delayed and also that I would be smothered for longer and more
completely.
It
is impossible to describe the horror of being smothered. No matter how often
you have been smothered there comes that moment in each smothering when panic
sets in. I knew Tabatha and almost trusted her, but Helen was someone new. I
had no idea what to expect, even if she would understand just how long I could
go without air.
I
was about to find out. Helen sat down on my face. I could still see her face,
our eyes met. If I could have pleaded with my eyes I would have done so. It
would have made no difference. Helen settled. I felt her weight shift as she
spread herself across my mouth and nose.
“I
dreamt of this moment!” She laughed, wriggling further down my face. “I have
dreamt of having a shitty English face up my ass. Oh! I cannot tell you how
much it hurt to know what Tabatha was doing to you. I wanted it to be me. This
afternoon when she farted into your face, that should have been my fart you
sniffed, it should have been my cunt you licked out. I couldn’t wait, and now I
don’t have to.” She was sliding across my face, just hard enough to enjoy it,
leaving me to snatch hurried breaths as her arse and crotch left my face.
I
lay there, the complaint slave whilst Helen slowly, ever so slowly, brought
herself top a climax. Again she didn’t have Tabatha’s skill but that would
come. She would learn how to use me to please her. It was simply time and
practise that she needed, and I knew that she had plenty of the former and a
determination towards the latter.
When
she eventually came it was almost a contradiction. I was used to Tabatha’s
powerful climaxes. Helen’s were gentle in comparison. I barely knew she’d come
until she collapsed against me and ever so slowly her come juices began seeping
through her crotch.
“That
was nice.” Helen purred. “Not good but nice.” She slid back off my face. “Well
shitty! Are you ready to please me?” She gasped.
“Yes
Mistress.” I answered. I could still smell her; still feel the weight of her
buttocks across my face.
“Later.”
Helen climbed off me. She strutted around my room after ordering me to remain as
I was. She explored my wardrobe, throwing my underwear onto the floor. “Take
your pants off.” She demanded, pointing at me.
I
did so.
“Open
your legs, wide.”
I
did so. I felt no embarrassment. After what I had endured over the past two
years there was no place for embarrassment.
Helen
came and sat between my open legs. Miranda had made me shave and I had kept up
the habit. So my cunt was pink and all flesh with only the briefest of pubic
stubble. Helen touched me. I almost went into orbit; it had been so long since
anyone had touched me. I hadn’t been held, kissed, loved in what seemed a
lifetime.
“Was
that nice, shitty cunt?” She smirked. It was already apparent that Helen would
not be a kind Mistress.
“Yes
Mistress.” I gasped, trying to recover my breath.
Helen
started to finger fuck me. It had been so long. I flooded across her fingers.
She had my arse bouncing against the carpet and then just when I was about to
climax … she stopped.
“Enjoy
that?” She gloated. She didn’t wait to answer. She stoked my cunt lips, drawing
more of my juice from me. “When did you last get shagged, shitty? When did you
have a nice hard cock inside you?”
“I
can’t remember, Mistress.” I answered truthfully. I hadn’t been with a man
since I’d started at the school. Miranda and Tabatha had placed restrictions on
me as they had asserted their total dominance of my life. I had not been
allowed to finger myself or use anything that might have relieved my sexual
frustration. It had hurt all the more to realise that as I made one of them
come that I was denied that simple pleasure for myself.
She
stopped just as my climax was building. She left my hips jerking, seeking the
solace of her stiff, thin fingers.
“Control
yourself.” She snapped and I did my best. It wasn’t easy. I was remembering the
hot stabbing surges of pleasure, sensations that I had more or less forgotten.
Helen
continued to prowl my meagre rooms, investigating my life. I had never been one
for strong friendships or family ties and the past year had weakened those that
did exist to almost breaking point. Still she read my letters and I did nothing
to stop her.
“Who
is Catherine?” she asked.
“Mistress,
Catherine is my elder sister.” I answered. I hadn’t seen Cat for over two
years.
“She
says you should visit more often. What do you tell her?”
“Nothing
Mistress.”
“Keep
it that way, better still, make excuses. I don’t want you seeing anyone whilst
you are my slave. Understand?” She came and stood over me, so that I had to
stare up into her face and she could look down into mine.
“Yes
Mistress.” I answered meekly.
“Tabatha
says that I should start out by smothering you, that I need to take you under
to understand just how much power I have over you.” As she spoke Helen sat down
on my chest. “After that I can really understand how utterly beneath me you
are.” She inched forwards. “Look into my face.” She demanded and I did so. “Are
you scared shitty?” She asked.
I
had to be honest.
“Yes
Mistress.”
“Why?”
She
knew why! The bitch was just trying to make me squirm.
“It’s
dangerous Mistress.” I answered.
“Why?”
She
had slid so far forwards that her crotch was covering my chin. I could smell
her, the heavy, almost perfumed stink of her cunt.
“I
could die, if you didn’t release me.” I whispered.
“All
down to me then. I mean if I didn’t want to get off your face, what can you do?
You, a shitty little cunt licker? I should just smother you, get your worthless
little life over.” She was over my mouth now, with my nose pressed against the
damp fabric of her panty crotch. I could still breath, but one inch further…”So
you had better hope that I decide to keep you.” She moved that inch,
suffocating me beneath her.
Knowing
what she intended didn’t make things any easier to cope with. I have said that
being smothered is frightening; it is more frightening when you understand the
enormity of the threat. If Helen chose she could have killed me.
Smothering
isn’t something that happens in a matter of moments. The pressure builds with
each minute you are pinned. A really cruel Mistress can allow you just enough
air to prolong the torture but all the time weakening you, taking you
progressively towards that edge.
Helen
proved to be both cruel and skilful. She kept me teetering on the edge of
oblivion, and then just pulling me back. Again and again she did this until I
was a damp rag of flesh with no obvious spark of life; then when I didn’t care
what she did, she drove me under.
……………………………………………………………………………..
I
revived. I had no sense of time or place. I had been here before and so lay
still, allowing my scattered senses to return. I felt weak, very weak and knew
that I was in no condition to move.
“Welcome
back shitty.” Helens sarcastic voice snapped into my drugged senses.
Slowly
I turned my head towards her voice. She was sitting on the bed, apparently
rifling once more what had been my private correspondence.
“Ready
for more?”
“More!”
I gasped.
“Sure.”
She crossed the room and sat across my chest once more. I was so weak that even
if I’d wanted to resist her I couldn’t have. She moved forwards until she was
straddling my face. I feared the worse and panicked. I had never been smothered
twice so rapidly. I formed the words to beg her to stop, but her smothering
arse suffocated the words in my throat. This time she didn’t tease me. I went
under in seconds.
……………………………………………………………………………..
“Wake
up shitty.” It was Helen’s voice and probing foot that eventually rallied my
senses. I groaned, almost vomited and simply turned onto my side in a ball,
crying softly. “Not like that!” Helen demanded.
She
rolled me over onto my back. She looked into my tear stained face.
“You
are scum!” She spat the symbols into my face. “Get to your feet.” She demanded.
I
tried. I really did but I was so weak that I couldn’t even raise myself onto my
knees. Helen watched my struggles, a grim smile on her face. I was amusing her.
I was her entertainment.
Eventually,
by pulling onto the bed I managed to raise myself up. Helen pushed me in the
chest and I collapsed again.
“I
said get up!” She snarled, and aimed a kick at my ribs.
“Please
Mistress.” I gasped, pleading for her to stop. “Please stop. I’ll do anything you
want, just please stop.”
She
knew all of this. She had known it from the moment that Tabatha had
demonstrated her control over me. This was just Helen extracting pleasure. She
enjoyed cruelty. She enjoyed the way I was grovelling before her.
Respite
came, but not of her choosing. She had a mobile phone; all the girls had one,
now Helens buzzed incessantly until angrily she answered. Whilst she talked I
rallied and recovered a semblance of my wits and strength.
Seeing
that I was recovering Helen signalled that I crawl to her feet. She sat on the
bed and opened her legs and pointed to her panties. I guessed what she wanted.
I
had expected her to smother me the first time that I tongue fucked her, but
Helen was proving to be nothing like my previous Mistresses.
I
pulled down her panties, with her help; she raised her bottom off my bed.
Another gesture and I sniffed her gusset just as she’d seen me sniff the gusset
of Tabatha’s panties.
All
the time she was continuing her conversation. She nodded her approval at my
actions and then pulled my pillow beneath her bottom. It raised her cunt to my
eye level. Another gesture and I began to tongue fuck my new Mistress for the
first time.
I
am good at tongue fucking. I’d had enough practises. Miranda and Tabatha had
both been demanding but had also loaned me out amongst their small cabal of
followers. I realised that when my Mistresses periods struck then I was passed
out to another to use.
I
must have serviced a bakers dozen of the arrogant, demanding little cunts. They
each had their peculiarities, things they liked or disliked. I became
proficient at sensing what pleased or displeased before they could punish me. I
guessed that Helen expected a slavish performance from me.
Helen
was hairier than any of my other Mistresses and the smell and taste of her was
also the strongest, her pubic hair was dark, wiry and long, concealing her long
pubic lips behind a protective spike forest.
I
buried myself to my task, alternating between licking and sucking on her cave
and teasing her clitoris as it emerged from beneath its hood. The harder I
worked, the longer I teased her clitoris, the wetter and wetter she began.
I
could trace a dribble of her cunt juices down the crack of her arse and
ultimately onto my pillow. Tonight I would sleep with Helen’s stink forever in
my nostrils.
This
time her climax was harder, faster and longer than the one mashing my face had
induced, and yet she tried to continue her conversation, laughing and brazenly
telling her caller what I was doing.
The
climax soaked both my face and my pillow. It was like facing an erratic shower
as spurts of her come splashed against my face and dribbled onto my pillow.
Helen
squealed and laughed, swearing obscenely as she finished. She said something to
her caller and then laughed again. I knew that she was talking about me and I
also knew that that fact didn’t concern me.
As
her climax subsided she pushed against my chest with her bare foot. At the same
time she gestured angrily that I should lie down again. I had barely done so
before she was kneeling across my face. This time there were no panties between
her body and my face. She turned round so that she was facing my feet and I was
staring up at her tight little anus.
She
was going to smother me again. I panicked remembering how she’d abused me
before. Helen finished her phone call and tossed the mobile onto the bed.
“Lick
my arse.” She demanded, opening her bum cheeks to me.
It
was almost a relief. I had been afraid that she’d smother me under again, now
all she wanted me to do was tickle and tease her bottom. Disgusting though that
prospect was, it was infinitely preferable to suffocation.
As
I began to tickle her anus I realised just how calculated Helen’s attack on me
had been. The dual smothering had been designed to terrify me so much that
anything was preferable to that punishment.
So
my term of servitude to Helen began. She would prove to be the hardest and most
demanding of my Mistresses. Eventually she would torture and abuse me like all
the others. Farting into my face, making me sniff her stink, carryout her
toilet. I did all that but for Helen there would always be another added layer
of abuse or humiliation she could invent.
The
worse was how she handed me out to other girls. It had happened before, but
this time Helen sold me to the other girls. I was income, a commodity, and that
made my servitude even worse.