Archive name: The Chair.HTM (M/F, M/FF, M/F, Facesitting, Humiliation)

Authors name: Smotherfan ([email protected])

Story title: The Chair

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This work is copyrighted to the author and the Smother World Organisation © 2003. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration.

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Authors Note: I read a short story on Smother.com about a man who willing let women use his face as a seat or cushion, this is my interpretation of the same fantasy, and once again the man is taken advantage of.

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“You must not feel embarrassed.” So began Dr. Sam Barlow’s first session with a very nervous Bill Johnson. “Consider me a close friend, not a Doctor, you can call me Sam.”

It was easy for Sam to say that but harder for Bill to respond. First of all Sam was short for Samantha, and Sam or Samantha was an attractive woman in her early to mod thirties, who seemed supremely confident in herself. Second Bill had never been at ease with self-assured woman and third, the reason why he was on her couch was embarrassing, very embarrassing.

“I don’t know where to start.” Bill burbled. “I find it awkward even thinking about where to start.”

“The beginning is always a good place.” Dr. Sam replied, giving Bill a one hundred percent professional smile.

Bill took a deep breath and began. “I like female bottoms; I mean that I like to imagine what it would be like if an attractive woman sat on my face.” He was blushing furiously.

There was a flicker of interest across Dr. Sam’s. She crossed her long; nylon clad legs and adjusted her skirt. “Oral sex is a normal part of a relationship.”

“I don’t mean that, I mean having a woman sit on my face whilst she is still dressed, like I was a chair or a seat or just something that she sits on.” Bill carried on blushing; now there was a thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

Dr. Sam smiles briefly. “Do you have any other submissive fantasises?” She asks.

“Submissive?” Bill repeats. “I don’t understand the question.”

“Submissive, as in fantasies in which the woman is in command, where you do exactly what she orders, say licking her feet?”

“Never her feet.” Bill conceded.

“What then?” Dr. Sam persists. She gets to her feet and begins to prowl about the room.

“The woman just sits on my face.” There was more, much more but Bill didn’t want to reveal the real depth of his fantasies.

“Just sits there?” Dr. Sam is standing over him. As Bill looks up so Dr. Sam looks down. She smiles and Bill shivers. “Just sitting there sounds rather boring. Are you sure there is nothing more?”

“No!” He lies. “That’s all there is.”

“Now that disappoints me, see I’d have imagined that the woman would have become bored just sitting on your face.” Bill’s head is resting on the arm of the couch. Dr. Sam comes and plants her rear down besides his face. Bill stiffens, literally. He can smell her, that earthy smell that only a woman processes. “So, tell me, is just a fantasy, or has it ever happened.” Dr. Sam looks down into his face again. Bill is caught by her emerald green eyes; they hold him, obliging him to tell the truth.

“It’s just a fantasy.” He whispers.

“So…” Dr. Sam begins oh so very slowly and softly. “If I was to put my bottie here.” She touches his nose. “If I did, then I’d be the first?”

Bill fights down a gasp of astonishment, was she actually offering to do it, or was it just part of her mind games?

“You’d be the first.” He manages to stammer.

“So…would you like me to…sit…on…your…face?” she almost spelt out the words.

Bill’s head was pounding so hard that he thought that it would explode. He found it difficult to breathe and to think straight.

“Well Bill?”

“Please.” He croaked through a suddenly dry throat.

“I knew you’d say that.” Dr. Sam’s skirt was to tight to flick over Bill’s face but she sat on his face anyway and Bill’s heart almost burst.

It was over almost before he’d had chance to savour any of the sensations that were racing through his body. Dr. Sam sat on his face for only what seemed like moments but they were the finest that Bill had ever experienced and then she was gone, walking over to her desk.

She scribbled something onto her pad and then signalled to him to join her. Bill tried, even though his legs were shaking and barely held him upright.

“Give this to my secretary; it’s a note for another appointment on Wednesday.”

The forty eight hours to the next appointment were the longest in Bill’s life. The hours dragged, he couldn’t concentrate and he had a perpetual erection. If he’d have been married then his wife would have celebrated the latter but Bill was five years into his separation from Billie Joe and since her departure women friends had been few and far between.

He was early for his appointment and Dr. Sam’s secretary made him wait before she told Dr. Sam that he was here. It was as she knew why he was there, at least why he thought he was there. In a brief fantasy Bill imagined the secretary demanding his face for her seat. The image of a white pantied rear descending onto his face had been ever constant in his dreams.

He was lead into Dr. Sam’s office. She looked up from her desk and motioned him towards the couch. He sat down and then lay down. He was trembling with fear and anticipation.

“I have researched your case.” Dr. Sam began in a matter of fact, business like voice. “It’s called smothering or facesitting. I think the latter description is rather self explanatory. Basically it’s about female domination, usually of a male but occasionally of another female, there are various levels, of which your fantasy is the mildest but you know that, don’t you?”

He nodded.

“Good, because today we are starting a course of treatment at then end of which you’ll either be cured or utterly and I mean utterly under my total domination. Are you prepared to take that risk?”

“Yes.” He said without thinking.

“You really want to sniff my butt?”

“Yes!” He replied.

Dr. Sam laughed and then stood up. “If you wait long enough you’ll sniff more than my ass, now stretch that neck, look up…just right” She flipped her skirt, Bill noticed that it wasn’t the figure tight skirt from her business suite, Dr. Sam was wearing a skirt which have been designed for the purpose. She hovered above him; her body slightly swaying at it dropped lower and lower until his nose was brushing against her moist panty crotch.

He could smell her and it was nothing like he had ever imagined, the earthy musky smell was stronger, and she sat down and Bill felt her full weight spread across his face. Again it was like nothing he had imagined.

Dr. Sam was a tall woman, but even so Bill topped her by several inches, and he knew that he was much heavier. She couldn’t have been one hundred and thirty pounds, but now Bill felt as if his head was trapped in a vice and as much as he twisted and turned his body, his head stayed trapped beneath her crushing, air denying rear.

When she did move Bill’s only concern was for air and the moment’s relief away from her weight on his face. He had never imagined that it would hurt so much.

She sat down again, somehow knowing what it would be like made it worse and Bill did try to struggle but Dr. Sam was in the pivotal position. She was the one with the advantage and she held to it until Bill’s resistance had been finally beaten down.

When finally Dr. Sam did release him and cross to her desk Bill just lay there, drawing in breath and trying to recover, he was seeing stars and his vision was blurred, his chest and lungs ached and he felt very tired.

Dr Sam was behind her desk and writing another note. “Give this to Gwen and she’ll book you another appointment.” She said, dismissing him.

The next visit was worse because the anticipation was worse, for the excitement had been replaced by trepidation. He knew what to expect and most of it scared him. The ease with which she cut off his oxygen and the effortlessness way she defeated him were genuine concern as Bill realised that once she had straddled him then he was her’s to do with as she pleased.

Gwen smirked at him. “Dr. Barlow will be delayed for a few minutes; she said that you could wait in her office.”

Bill didn’t quite know what to make of Gwen; the young beach blonde assistant seemed to be looking down on him. Was Dr. Sam telling her what was happening between them? He hoped not, his fetish was a very private event.

The consulting room without her dominating presence seemed a very different place, although Bill immediately smelt her presence, a subtle fragrance he’d been ignorant of before.

He was just wandering about when a very different looking Dr. Sam appeared in the office. She was dressed for the squash court in a sweat stained blue top and white skirt and was still wiping the perspiration from her face.

“So you came back.” She said casually. “Here, smell this.” She tossed him the damp, sweat soaked towel which Bill took to his face. It did smell of her, but that fragrance was mingled with the sour pungency of her sweat. “You take instructions well.” She continued. “Quite frankly I wasn’t expecting to see you again. I thought our last session might have cured you, but as you’re here I suppose I should step up your education.”

‘Education?’ Bill thought to himself. “Doctor…” He began but her upraised hand stopped him in mid sentence.

“In future you will address me as ‘my lady’, understand, ‘my lady’ and now get on your hands and knees.”

He did so and was amazed when she came and sat astride his back, he felt her weight as she relaxed.

“Now, instead of my walking about in future I shall ride on your back, do you understand.”

“Yes …my lady.”

“Good, now your file is in Gwen’s office.” She slapped his rear with the palm of her hand. It stung but Bill didn’t move. He was frozen with panic at the thought of entering Gwen’s office like this. Dr. Sam slapped his rear again, this time harder and the pain was worse. “MOVE.” She demanded and reinforced the command with another fierce slap.

Slowly Bill inched forwards; he hung his head so that he wouldn’t have to see the look on Gwen’s face. Dr. Sam chuckled and slapped his rear again, it wasn’t as hard as before, but the cumulative effect meant that it still hurt.

He made to butt the door open and she made no attempt to stop the door swinging back into his face.

There was a gasp and then an undisguised giggle as Gwen saw them enter. Bill still tried to keep his head down but Dr. Sam was to alert to miss what he was doing.

“Lift your head. I want Gwen to see your face.”

He was burning with embarrassment and yet slowly he did as ordered.

“Gwen, I’d like you to meet horsy.” Dr. Sam said.

Gwen swung her chair out from beneath her desk. She was wearing a short skirt and he could almost see her panties. Gwen’s face was bright with amusement. “Hello horsy.” She said and then laughed.

“Give me the horse’s file.” Dr. Sam asked.

“Yes Doctor.” Gwen giggled.

Bill just waited for this particular humiliation to finish. He promised himself that he would never set foot in her office again after today.

Gwen had left her chair briefly and now she returned with a slim brown folder which she handed to Dr. Sam.

“Thank you, now horse, would you like to see Gwen’s panties. I know you would. Gwen would you mind if horsy saw your panties?”

“Of course not Doctor, I’d be delighted.” Gwen said between giggles.

“Come on horsy!” Dr. Sam slapped his still tender rear. “Or should I get a whip!” She hit him again and this time Bill couldn’t suppress a groan. “Does that hurt? Dr. Sam laughed and slapped him again. “Come on MOVE.” The anger that was suddenly and for the first time in her voice almost scared Bill and he crawled forwards. “Better!”

Bill reached Gwen’s knee’s bumping his forehead against them.

“Slide forwards on the chair, so that your pussies just on the edge, then open your legs so that he can get real close.” Dr. Sam instructed her giggling but obviously willing lieutenant.

Bill waited head bowed and now conscious of a growing pain in his back. Dr. Sam had her legs hooked up almost into his groin so that all of her weight was pressing into his back.

Another stinging slap was his only instruction to move and he shuffled forwards between Gwen’s wide spread legs.

“Head up horsy.” Dr. Sam ordered and this time she grabbed his hair to pull his head up.

He was pushed forwards until his face was pressed against Gwen’s red and white stripped panties. Dr. Sam held his head there, pressing just enough so that Bill was totally forced against Gwen.

“Horsy just loves a woman sitting on his face, that’s what I’m going to do and I’m sure he’d love your pretty little fanny on his face.” Dr. Sam laughed softly. “And if he doesn’t want you to, well, who cares. If we want to then that’s what will happen, right horsy?” Dr. Sam pulled Bill’s face back from Gwen’s panties. “Well horsy, it isn’t up to you, is it horsy?”

“No my lady!” Bill gasped.

“My lady, is that what he calls you?” Gwen squealed.

“My title.” Dr. Sam said smugly. “Now come on horsy, back to my office.” She slapped him again and Bill began his slow and painful retreat into her office.

“You will be my chair for the rest of your session which incidentally will be a double one.” Dr. Sam dismounted and pointed to her chair. “I want your head on that cushion.”

Obediently Bill crawled over and rested the back of his head on her chair. Immediately he could smell her presence and he wondered for how many years her perfect rear had sat where he was now laying his head.

Dr. Sam came over and turning about sat straight down on his face, flicking her skirt up at the last moment so that Bill’s face was pressed against her panties and the skirt dropped down to envelope him, submerging him utterly in a dark world dominated by her smells and weight.

Dr. Sam said nothing and Bill waited for the moment when she would move enough for him to breath, but it never seemed to come and suddenly Bill was panicking and then struggling for air.

”STOP THAT!” Dr. Sam demanded and mashed down hard onto his face, so hard that even a panicked Bill gradually gave up the fight.

He was so deprived of air that he could feel himself beginning to drift into unconsciousness. It was only then that Dr. Sam moved enough for him to breath and Bill was so desperate to do so that he did nothing as Dr. Sam secured his wrists to the arms of her chair.

“Now, you behave or the next time I might just forget to let you breathe.” Dr. Sam said as she sat back down on him. “Get your nose nice and deep up my ass crack I want you to get a good sniff.” She made sure that his nose was where she wanted it. “I expect that it’s good and sweaty down there.” She laughed. “Nothing like a hard game of squash to work up a sweat.”

After that there was silence as Dr. Sam ignored his very existence, the phone rand a couple of times and he heard her hold brief conversations. Other than that the silence was only broken as she moved enough for his pain wracked chest to draw in much needed air.

Bill found himself drifting in and out of consciousness, Dr. Sam was careless in allowing him to breath and gradually he was being worn down and left helpless.

He remembered a conversation between Dr. Sam and Gwen but only snatches penetrated his scattered senses.

“Really, then I can finish early.” He thought he heard Dr. Sam say, but he couldn’t quite catch Gwen’s reply. “Of course you can, just remember…” it was then that he drifted again.

“Chair, pay attention chair.” It was Dr. Sam shaking him back to an almost consciousness. “I’m going home now. I have a dinner date with an old colleague and we now have a very interesting case to discuss.”

He expected to be released but with that Dr. Sam left him and for a while Bill didn’t care. He was free of her stinky butt, the sweaty panties, the shaven scrub of her pubic hair and her suffocating weight.

“Chair, still here?” It was Gwen’s smirking voice which this time penetrated Bill’s dulled senses.

At first Bill thought that she was here to release him but the next few minutes taught him otherwise.

“Let me go.” He pleaded and was surprised how weak his voice sounded.

“I will, but later. She said that I could have a try and I know that you don’t mind.”

“Please don’t.” He whispered and struggled ineffectually with his ties as Gwen positioned herself above him. The red and white stripes began to fill his vision and then, then it was Gwen claiming her place on his helpless face.

“So this is what’s getting her so horny.” Gwen laughed. “I never thought that sitting on a guy’s face could be so much fun.” She wriggled down his face until his nose was pressed against her butt. “Just think chair, if I farted now you’d get the full benefit, pity my tanks empty.” She laughed.

She allowed him more air than Dr. Sam had, perhaps she was afraid of suffocating him and somehow never quite covered his nose and mouth, but the humiliation of her sitting on his face, of his complete inability to stop her and it was more than having his hands bound to the chair for suddenly he realised that he couldn’t have stopped her even if his hands had been free.

Eventually Gwen released him from her hot, smelly imprisonment; casually she released the straps that held him. Bill slumped to the floor, his arms were numb, and a constant pain had spread across his shoulders and to his neck.

“I lock up in twenty minutes; either get out or get locked in all night, oh and your next session is already booked, next Monday, 1.30, oh and the rates increased by 50%”

Gwen left him to recover his shattered senses, slowly and conscious of the clock on her desk was counting down his twenty minutes, he struggled to his feet. He felt giddy, weak and uncoordinated.

Gwen smiled when he staggered into her office. “Five minutes, that’s all.”

It was the final incentive he needed and with the last of his energy he lurched into the corridor and finally to the almost sanctuary of the lift.

The rest of the week and the weekend passed with Bill still trying to understand what was happening to him. He was a bright man, more than bright enough to realise that Dr. Sam was slowly but deliberately preparing him for something, he just couldn’t figure out what.

Neither could he understand why he was waiting outside her office when Gwen appeared. She was carrying a brown carry bag, the sort that café’s used for packed lunches. When she saw him Gwen stopped and smiled.

“On time, I like that.” She paused to unlock the office. “I’m afraid to say that Dr. Barlow has been delayed, but you can wait for her.” The formal tone in her voice ceased the moment they crossed over the threshold into the darkened office suite. “So until she arrives you can serve me.” She continued in an all together harsher tone. “I was about to have my lunch, you can be my cushion.”

She pointed towards her chair and a subdued Bill slipped to his knees.

“A girl could get tired waiting for you.” She snarled suddenly. “MOVE!”

He scrambled over to her chair; sitting on the floor he placed his head on the still warm cushion. He looked up just as Gwen stood astride him; from her desk draw she took a pair of Velcro straps and secured his wrists to the chair arms. All the time she looked down into his plaint face, a smile of smug satisfaction spread across her face.

“There, I wouldn’t want you to feel too comfortable.” She said, trying each restraint. “This is all about my comfort.” Gwen straddled him, facing away from him she flipped up her skirt and once more nestled down on his face.

He just had time to see the whiteness of her panties before her skirt settled like a tent about him and he was submerged beneath her. Gwen seemed to spread across his face, claiming his mouth and driving his nose between her buttocks, only the soft thin fabric of her panties kept him away from her body, but the panties couldn’t prevent the smells of her body begin to saturate his face.

Gwen just ignored him. She consumed her lunch without even uttering a word to him, occasionally, very occasionally; she shifted enough for him to breathe, but always her rump would seal his face and he would drift again.

He knew that it must end, however temporarily when Dr. Sam arrived, but he knew that she’d eventually claim his face, that he’d eventually become her chair.

The phone rang and he listened to the one sided conversation.

“Yes Doctor.”

“He’s here now … I’m sitting on him, just like you said I could.”

“No he’s no trouble, quite the opposite, I enjoy sitting on his face.”

“What? Like you said, I get horny, it’s real cool.”

“Say again … I can … like shut up shop and enjoy myself … thanks Doctor.”

He heard the phone being replaced and then Gwen stood up. At first all he thought of was the simply relief of breathing almost without her permission. So he barely noticed when she locked the door to the office and switched off the light in the outer corridor. When she closed the solid wood door to her office no one in the main corridor would have any idea that there was anyone still in the office.

Gwen came back and sat on the edge of her desk, looking down at him. “You should see yourself; your face is as red as my fingernails.” She waved the long and brightly painted nails at him. “That was the boss on the phone, seems that she can’t be bothered to see you today but so you won’t be disappointed, I’m going to take over the session. Isn’t that good news, I get your face for the rest of the day.”

He said nothing and could only watch as Gwen pulled up her short skirt to reveal the full extent of her panties. “I put these on especially for you. Do you like them?”

“Very much.” He found the voice to say.

They were white, almost transparent save for a flower motif that went some way to hide the dark mass of pubic hair.

“Good, because by the end of today you’ll feel very close to them.” She smiled at her little joke. “Now let me see, we’ve done being a chair and then being a pony. Did you enjoy them, any more fantasies about being a woman’s chair?”

“No!” He even shook his head.

“And being a pony, any more fantasies?”

He’d never had fantasies about some woman treating him as a horse, but he shook his head anyway.

“So do you think that you’re cured now?”

“Yes, yes, definitely…” He stopped as he saw Gwen begin to shake her head.

“I don’t think that you’re cured, in fact I think that your fantasies have become much worse, more degrading than ever.” She stepped forwards until she towered above him, the crotch of her panties only an inch from his still red face. The thought of being smothered again scared him almost to tears. “I think that now you have debased fantasies of becoming the slave of a woman, of doing anything that she orders you to do isn’t it?”

“No.” He pleaded, his eyes beginning to water.

“Don’t lie to me; you’re lying to yourself at the same time. You want to be a slave, sniffing my knickers … go on … take a big sniff.” She thrust her panties into his face and to his shock and disgust he sniffed, caught her scent and sniffed again. “Goood boy, let me hear you sniffing ... that’s right … now doesn’t that smell right … don’t you feel better for that?” Gwen was now sliding her crotch up and down his face.

“Yes … yes…” He panted, drinking in the strong scent of her womanhood.

“Now push out your tongue, I want you to touch my panties with it. I want to imagine how wonderful it will be when you get to lick my pussy properly. You’d like to lick my pussy, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes … yes…” He felt her dampness on the edge of his tongue, even through the soft fabric of her panties, he felt her excitement. He wanted to taste her, he wanted to so badly that he was straining to reach her.

“Goood boy, now what about my ass, you want to sniff that as well, maybe lick it some, I’d like you to sniff my butt and I love to have your tongue inside my butt hole. Should I turn around now?”

“Please…” Had he really said that? Bill was no longer sure if he was in command of even his own voice. Had she given him something, and what and when? All she’d done was sit on his face?

Gwen had by now turned about and was wriggling her arse into his face. “Go on Bill, kiss my bum cheeks, I want to feel your lips against me.”

He kissed her arse, as she presented her derrière into his face so Bill kissed each cheek, reverently at first and then at her command as if he was kissing her face.

“I want to feel your face against my butt.” Gwen said and sank down again, once more claiming his face as her seat. She wriggled into position, confident in her total domination of him. “You know Pony; I think we should start calling you Chair. I think that’s much more your designation. You’d like to become my chair, wouldn’t you?” She raised her perfect arse and looked back at him. “Wouldn’t you?” She repeated.

“Yes.” He whispered.

“Good, because here it comes again.”

Gwen settled back, feeling her arse spread over the Chair’s plaint face. This was going to be good, she really had to thank the boss for finding her another Chair, they were so much fun.