The Demands of Devotion

She was a high-powered young blonde, dancing her gorgeous ass off. But she wasn't just having good clean kiddie fun. No. She moved as one of the rare ones; as one filled with clear and complete knowledge of her limitless power. The moment I glimpsed her exquisite ass peeking out from beneath that obscenely short little nothing of a so-called skirt, I was totally possessed by her. Her body was not only perfect, it was also being wielded with flawless expertise. Every so often, she’d look around, arrogantly, knowingly, giggling to herself at the effect she was having on all the boys. She hadn’t seen me yet, but I had been waiting for her, lurking nearby at a table in the shadows. The music pulses on, booming, celebratory. The drinks flow, the boys gawk and weep, and the wanna-be girls begin to chirp; envious little snippets, back and forth, to the effect that she ain’t all that. They know she is.

She passes by my table, laughing with another girl, and three college lads in tow. This is easy for me. And for her. I know her kind. She knows mine. As she passes all I do is keep my eyes, as lecherously as possible, on her incomparable plump legs. She notices. Of course, she notices. Far from being offended, however, she looks me in the eye, giggles mischievously, and shakes it for me. I smile slightly, but I keep right on looking. I’m not about to really acknowledge her as person. I’m going to acknowledge her as goddess, as omnipotent form, as deity incarnate. And that means a certain kind of telepathy, the kinetic transference of unfiltered lust. I’m an old pro at it. Sure enough, she laughs again and continues toward the bar saying;

‘...in your fucking dreams, granddad!’

Even the college boys laugh as they check out the pathetic old timer trying to be cool, hangin’ with the hotties.

-Get a life, old dude! I hear one say.

Don’t you worry, punk, I think to myself. I’ve got one, alright. I’ve got one.

It’s not much longer before she’s back, again leading her little band along the path to the dance floor that passes by my table. Again my eyes lock, steadfast, onto the spectacle of her legs and ass. As she shimmies past me, dimensions colliding in the cosmic shifts of her heavenly body, she bends down and whispers in my ear.

-You’re mine, granddad. You’re mine, aren’t you?

My eyes move for the first time to her face, which is now right here. I cannot speak or even nod, but my expression is unconditional surrender. She’s on familiar turf. It’s this way with every boy, but I’m the first that’s played the game by the rules. She can’t wait to get me alone. There follows another hour or so of breaking hearts and destroying lives with those luscious micro-mini upskirts, the delicious flesh of her lower body quaking criminally with every sexy step she takes on that vacuum packed dance floor. The rest of her evening will be devoted to religion.

Highest order of ritual. Everything in symbols of raw, uncompromising power. One doesn’t touch these legs; certainly not on one’s own volition. One contemplates them, meditates upon them, worships them. Her requirement is rigid, but just. I must continue to absorb the vision of those legs—her thighs within two inches of my face, her enchanted, feminine scent coursing through my brain—until it has filled my being to capacity. She is a benevolent goddess, and rewards me for my good behavior with a series of hard, violent face-slaps; infinitely merciful reminders of who she is, of the limitless power that resides within her. I am able to perceive that she is pleasantly surprised to find a servant with experience, one highly trained in obedience and practiced in the art of protocol. Of course, I am yet far from enlightenment. It falls beyond my comprehension, for example, that she chooses to inflict such harsh, and blessed punishment upon me as the price of obedience. I can only trust that if I stay the course, devoting my entire being to serving her, such higher spiritual understanding will eventually be revealed to me.

I bring her drinks even before she has asked for them, anticipating her every need. She drinks roughly half of each one, and then throws the rest of it in my face. She bludgeons me with her gorgeous, powerful knees, slaps me repeatedly, and spits in my face.

-Good fucking job, slut, she says cruelly. You’ve earned your reward. For the rest of the night, you will worship my body. It will probably drive you insane, but I won’t beat your worthless ass any further. Now you will learn the final lessons in attending to your goddess. Stand behind me, pay attention, and follow my instructions to the fucking T. Got it?

I nodded, and answered her correctly and properly.
-Yes, Your Highness.

She flopped onto the sofa on her belly, presenting me with a view of her unfathomable lower body that brought me to tears instantly.

-Are you crying? she asked.

-Yes, Your Highness. I’m sorry, Your Highness.

She only laughed.

-Aww, poor baby, she mocked. Come on, move in closer. Sniff the backs of my legs like a dog.

Sweet, plump, firm rolling hills of flesh, and I, caught now in the devil’s triangle. Nothing but legs, ass, and cunt in all directions. I sniffed away, deeply, maniacally, truly now a man possessed. A dog, panting, huffing, sniffing.

-Now, sniff between my ass cheeks. And don’t touch me!

Supreme difficulty here. Hard to move close, ever closer, without making contact. She knows it. She giggles madly, divinely. The fragrance, the vision, those shapes, god of the universe defining itself through her. Through her alone.

-Hold still, she says. Keep your nose right there.

It is infinitely hard. She farts in my face, and the laughter, the childish giggle of a thousand schoolgirls lilts from her throat. I inhale the delicious fumes down through my nostrils from whence they scatter, morphing into multitudes of psychic waves that etch her commandments into the stone of my brain.

-Again, she says, still laughing and releasing another savory, invisible cloud. Her farts act as some sort of spiritual nerve gas, altering my internal chemistry, commandeering my very thoughts, delivering me up as for the ultimate sacrifice. The tears continue as I breathe her in, consuming myself through perfect obedience.

-Again! Sniff good!

This one is longer, the most pungent of the three.

-Ahhhh, that’s the one I was waiting for, she says. Get all of it!

I sniff and sniff, inhaling every last molecule. Her giggling and the debilitating scent of her legs and ass and flatulence have already broken me. I am addicted now to her gas. I crave it, I beg for more, bawling uncontrollably between her fabulous thighs, looking straight into the paradise of her ass.

-That’s enough, pig. Now listen carefully to my instructions because they must be carried out perfectly. I want you to get up, run as fast as you can into that wall, face first, and then run straight back here and sniff my ass. And when you hit that wall, I want you to ram it HARD, with everything you’ve got. I want you to try and break every bone in your stupid face. Do you understand?

-Yes, Your Highness.

-Good. Now, no hands up. You keep those fucking hands down at your side. And when you get back here you get straight to my ass for some serious sniffing. But NO TOUCHING!

-Yes, Your Highness.

-OK, GO!


Nothing in me could believe what was happening, but suddenly I was charging full speed at the wall on the far side of the room. I recognized my action as being dangerous to me, and I understood full well the pain that would surely accompany my ramming of the unforgiving stucco surface. But all that mattered was the quality of my servitude. I would not fail to please her. Though my entire being struggled involuntarily to raise my hands up to soften the blow, I managed to control the impulses. I rammed my face straight on into the wall. The jolt broke my nose and sent my head spinning into nothingness. Everything went black as I fell back onto the floor. I tasted the blood streaming over my upper lip into my mouth as the darkness passed. All I could think was ‘Thank god I didn’t pass out so that I can finish carrying out her instructions.’ I half-stumbled, half-crawled back to the sofa, listening to her demented laughter all the way, and made the best time I could in getting back between her legs to the glorious orbs of that spectacular ass, perched so deliciously and beautifully on display. I was dizzy, woozy, seeing stars even, but somehow managed to maneuver my head into place and take a long, heady inhalation of her ass flesh.

Immediately, I realized that the only thing I was inhaling was my own blood. It rushed into my lungs fast and hard, as if pressurized. I started choking and coughing, my body heaving as blood supplanted breath. I was seized by fear, knowing my goddess was not going to be amused by this development.

-Hey! She snapped. What the fuck’re you doing? Get a hold of yourself, and stop coughing on my leg, you fucking pig!

I continued to struggle, unable to suppress the coughing and choking. I had inhaled a pretty decent lungful of blood.

-Drop your face down lower, she said. I want you to sniff my cunt and my ass!

I was slow to respond.

-Do it, goddamn you! Right now!

I summoned everything within me and held back the cough. I dropped down a few inches into the glory of the godhead. The holy trinity, where ass, cunt, and legs all join into one regal fortress. I quivered all over and again sucked air as hard as I could into my collapsed nostrils. No good. Even the joys of her soaking wet g-string were unable to penetrate and I again took on what was becoming the deadly red fluid.

-All right, pig, she said, back it up. Slide back 12 inches and meditate on my holy shrine until you’re able to carry out my instructions.

-Yes, Your Highness.

I heard her giggling again, lording it over me, reveling in her awesome power. I lay there, bleeding onto the sofa, knowing that my nose was finished. Any further sniffing was going to be out. She knew it too, and left me meditating on her incomprehensible body for only a few moments.

-OK, she said. That’s enough. I want you to go again. Ram your face into the wall again, just like before. But this time, when you return to me, you’ll only look at my ass, not smell it. Got it?

-Yes, Your Highness.

-OK, pig. GO!

Strange feelings this time. Flying at breakneck speed, somehow, across that room and knowing the outcome. That demonic laughter of hers; more than I can bear but here came the stop.

-Keep those hands down!

I heard her remind me of that just before the collision. It hurt much worse this time. Into the darkness again. Black, red, motionless.

-Get up! Hurry! Faster, faster!

Floating now, I think. Not conscious of getting back, but I am there. Bleeding, looking, crying. My crying tickles her the most.

-Don’t you just love the view, little pig? Can you say ‘thank you’ for the privilege of seeing my ass?

-T-Thank you, Your Highness.

It is all teary and garbled. The longer I look, the more irreparable the damage. My soul breaking in long, jagged cracks.

-OK, dinner time! She announces.

She swings her lower legs playfully, back and forth on either side of my battered head.

-Get your ass to the kitchen or wherever, and bring me back your cleaning supplies. Whatever you’ve got. Pledge, Toilet Duck, Drano, detergent, all that shit. Oh, and bug spray. Whatever kind of bug spray you’ve got in there. Grab the stuff quickly, and hurry back here and show them to me. Ready? GO!

I rush back with my arms full. She is a complete universe, lying there. So unspeakably gorgeous, beautiful, innocent, sexy and deadly. Though my head is pounding and I fear the worst from the chemical mixtures I horde, I retain my faith nonetheless. I know that she is not only teaching me the most advanced concepts of total surrender, but that she understands fully my deepest spiritual needs and knows with full clarity the path that I must walk in order to discover the answers for myself.



-How could it take you so fucking long to get back here with those? She asked. Do you have any idea how long you kept me waiting here? Is that what you think of me? That I’m so insignificant you can just leave my here waiting for you to take five minutes to do what you could have done in one?

-I’m sorry, Your Highness—

-I know you’re sorry. Sorry doesn’t cut it, asshole. I’m gonna need you to step it up, you got that?

-Yes, Your Highness.

-Good! You can start with a big swig from that laundry detergent. We need to clean you up, mister, especially on the inside. You’re still far from pure, you know. And I intend to wash the imperfections out of you by any means necessary. Now put the other shit down right here, drink down two capfuls, and then go stand at the end of the sofa and contemplate my ass. Go on, drink up!

Entering some other plane now. I obey her orders instantly, knowing full well that I am now drinking down my own death. What else could she have in mind? Would she call 911 on my behalf? It didn’t seem likely. I chugged my two capfuls while she watched me closely, her petite, adorable smile and compelling giggle driving me to an ever-deepening commitment. As I finished the second capful, she laughed and motioned me to the end of the couch with a cocky flick of her head. I moved behind her, still stunned by this same vision. Such perfection! Those thick, ripe legs, her incomparable ass and the mind-numbing, delicate pyramid of her lacy panties vanishing into that divine crack between the spheres brought me again to near hysterical weeping as I felt the beginnings of the chemical reaction starting down below.

-OK, pig, she laughed, we don’t have much time. Is that a letter opener over there?

-Yes, Your Highness.

-Go get it. But first, I want you to come back around here in front of me and stand where you can fall forward and slam your face into the corner of this coffee table. It looks pretty sharp. I think it’ll be good for you.

I took my place as directed.

-Oh, and pick up that Pledge first.

I obeyed.

-Now, I want you to spray the Pledge into your mouth until I say ‘stop,’ and then immediately after, I want you to fall like a fucking tree in the forest, face-first onto the corner of the coffee table. And NO HANDS! If you put your hands out, even a little, you’ll do it over again. Got it? Your full weight, free fall, and catch your face on the corner. THEN, I want you to get up and go get the letter opener. Are we clear?

-Yes, Your Highness, I cried.

The dream turning to nightmare.  I opened wide and pushed the button on the can.

-Ah-Ah, she said. Shake it first!

I dutifully shook the can thoroughly and sprayed. The lemon taste quickly gave way to a horrendous, chemical burning, which began to roar down my throat like a raging wildfire. I began to groan and cry even louder and through my tear-blurred eyes I looked into hers. She only smiled as my mouth filled, the harsh fluid flowing then down my chin and dribbling onto my chest.

-Very well, she said at last, Stop! Now quickly! Fall, giant evergreen, fall!

I dropped the can and taking perfect aim, hands firmly at my sides, fell with my full body weight, slamming my face into the sharp corner of the coffee table. It caught me in the lower part of my forehead, just above eye level, opening a deep gash that began pumping blood into the air like a geyser at Yellowstone. Once again, darkness was my reward as I drifted out of consciousness. I should have been completely out, but something in me, undoubtedly due to her divine magic, kept me coming quickly back to the task at hand.  My Supreme Ruler was laughing uncontrollably, hysterically.

-Omigod, she guffawed, you fucking moron, that was hilarious!  Now hurry up, pig! Get to the letter opener.

It had become a gruesome game show, some grotesque version of ‘Simon Says.’ The Devil alone knew where it would end. Actually, that’s not quite true. I knew by now where it would end. The question was ‘how.’ I crawled over to my desk, pulling myself up to a kneeling position to grab the letter opener.

-On your feet, she said threateningly.

I clung to the desk and pushed harder until, miraculously, I was standing. But I was wobbly in the extreme and the furious flow of blood from my head was causing me to lose my equilibrium.

-Now, she said, it’s time to get serious. Now, I want you to pick up the bug spray and spray it first all over your face until I say ‘stop,’ and then into your mouth until I say ‘stop.’ Then, you’re going to go stand behind me again, pray to my ass, and jam that letter opener as hard as you can into your right eye.

I shuddered, even as my cock became a steel girder pressing to escape from my pants.

-What’s the matter? Is there a problem?  Looks like you might have one growing down there in your fucking shorts!

-No, Your Highness, there's no problem.

In wobbly fashion, I picked up the Raid.

-OK, then. Got the letter opener? OK, ready to spray…and GO!

I pushed the button.

-Shake the fucking can, asshole!! Don’t make me get up from this sofa!

-I’m so sorry, Your Highness.

I shook and sprayed. I had forgotten until now that this can of Raid was, of all things, hornet and wasp spray; ultra potent and pure liquid. It drenched my face and the severe burning began instantly. I began screaming bloody murder now as the pain was unbearable. Inside, my stomach was exploding from the Pledge and detergent mixture. Through it all, I heard her delicious giggling, exulting ever more deeply in her supreme authority. It seemed an eternity before she ordered me to re-direct the spray into my mouth. As the powerful toxic mix hit my tongue, my entire mouth seemed to erupt into flames. Even worse at the back of my throat and down my already singed esophagus. I continued to scream, dancing in place now like some possessed puppet on strings, my knees coming up high as my body began to react on its own to the abject pain and destruction. Soon, I had emptied the whole can. I was probably beyond hope now. Death would undoubtedly find me soon.

-Run, pig, run! She laughed as I continued my bizarre little dance of pain.

She watched me mirthfully for a few more excruciating moments as I hopped around, fell down, bounced back up, fell down, back up, bounced off the wall, down again, writhing like a serpent on fire. She lay there so calmly, so elegantly, sipping her drink and smoking her cigarette on the sofa. She was beauty and power personified.

-OK, stop, pig! Now, hurry! Get up, get up! Pray to my ass, and use the letter opener. Hurry up!

I dropped the can and crawled back to the end of the sofa, screaming in agony.

–Up! On your pathetic feet! Hurry!

I pulled myself to my feet.

-OK, she said, now pray. Pray to my ass.

I could only scream in pain, but if I ever needed a prayer, it was now. I tried to say something; please, help me, Ogod, I’m sorry, something like that. All that came was gibberish, but she loved it.

-Sorry I don’t speak ‘Pig,’ she laughed, but keep it up. It amuses me. Maybe the god of the pigs will come down from his heavenly sty and rescue you!

My prayer became a chanting in tongues, a service of ultimate devotion to this exquisite girl’s fat little ass; so young, and so fine. Her legs, plump as sausages, split my soul in half for the last time. The scene in my living room is more horrifying now than the most gruesome horror movie. I stand at the end of my sofa, holding a letter opener, and praying in tongues to her ass in an eerie mixture of guttural phonetics, screams and shrieks of pain and terror, and the tears of a million infants. She hardly even looks at me. She just laughs and flaunts her body.



-Enough, she snaps. Now, the letter opener. Go ahead. Use it.

She is yelling at me now above the piercing volume of my prayer.

-On my count of three, you’re to jam it deep into your eye, understand? You’re going to sacrifice that eye for me. I deserve much more, don’t I?

My answer is incoherent.

-DON’T I?

-Yes, Your Highness.

-You’re damn fucking right, I do! OK, here we go. One, two…

She waits for what seems like forever as pure hysteria explodes from my lips.

-THREE!

She turns her head back enough to see this. And, horror of horrors, I do it! Just like that. I thrust the sharp blade of the letter opener into my right eye with all my strength. The blood was already everywhere, and now came a doubling of it. It spurted from the hole that just seconds ago was my eye, and the terrifying wail of my screaming now didn’t even begin to communicate the pain I was in. As I began to fall forward, twitching like some gigantic, exposed nerve, I heard her commanding me to stay up.

-Don’t you dare go down, pig! Keep to your feet! Worship my ass with that one good eye! And pray, goddamn you! Keep praying!

Amazingly, I obeyed. I was completely aware that I had just put my own eye out, with a fucking letter opener, destroying it forever and causing my entire being to convulse in unimaginable agony, and yet I obeyed. Something in me actually forced me to obey her unconditionally. I can only assume that the pain and internal horror I was feeling were so intense that I just somehow shut down. Otherwise, I'm sure I would have been flopping around on the floor like a dying fish. I clutched the arm of the sofa and continued to scream out my incoherent prayers in louder, more blood-curdling screams than all the ones that had come before.

-OK, pig, OK. You’re almost there, she laughed. Now first, I want you to go to the kitchen and bring me the biggest, sharpest butcher knife in the house. Can you do that for me? Hmmm?

-Yes, Your Highness, I screamed at the top of my lungs.

-Good, she said. If you do, I’ll let you look at my ass some more.

Blood streaming in thick pools as I stumbled, fell, and crawled to the kitchen, as the thought of a few more moments in her presence inspired me to find some tiny, remaining shred of strength.  Somehow, I returned to her with a butcher knife that more than anything resembled a machete. I stood before her, groaning and crying loudly in abject agony. My whole head was a crimson pulp with blood flowing profusely from the remains of the one eye, the huge gash on my forehead, and the crushed remains of my nose. She smiled at me so arrogantly, so condescendingly, so obviously gleaning a fiendish and intense enjoyment from my self-demolition.

-All right, pig. I'm just about to cum all over your fucking sofa.  So, let’s get this over with. Pick up that Drano.

I did as she commanded.

-Kneel down here, open it, and hand it to me.

She sat up on the sofa, crossing her legs enticingly in front of me and causing my body to go into some kind of weird fibrillation. I knelt before her, struggled to remove the top and handed her the can. It was the granulated Drano, not the liquid, and it was like thick, desert sand in its consistency.

-Open wide, she laughed.

I obeyed, still emitting an endless swirl of involuntary ‘pain sounds.’

She sat over me, tilted my head back, and poured a half a can of the corrosive acid-powder down my throat.

-Now this is REALLY going to hurt, she said, but I need you to finish with perfect obedience. And you better swallow every last grain of this shit, you read me, pig?  I’m even going to help you to make sure you get through it. Now, when you’ve finished the Drano, take that fucking knife, go to your position, and hold it while you look at my ass. OK? Here we go! Go ahead, chew it up and swallow!

With that, she jerked me around, facing away from her, and felt her powerful, satin legs pressing against each side of my body as she held my head between her hands.  I began to chew and swallow, and everything took its toll at once. A universe of poison lava rising from the deep, flowing swiftly in the direction of my mouth. Before it could come up, though, she wrapped her arm firmly beneath my chin and applied a classic 'sleeper' hold on me, clamping my jaws shut as she pulled my head tightly in place up against her chest. With the other arm, she locked the sleeper hold in and with her hand, pinched my nostrils closed, giggling heartily at the spectacle to come. Then this gorgeous sex-pot closed her eyes delightfully, like some fairy tale princess or missionary angel, tucked her head down, resting her cheek against the top of my head, and held on for the wild ride.

With nothing being able to escape through my mouth or nose, disaster ensued. There is no way to tell you what kind of damage I had already sustained internally, but with my mouth now filling up with severely toxic vomit, there was only one place for it to go, and that was back into my lungs. I struggled with all my might to pry my jaws open and erupt, but she had all the leverage, and easily held my mouth closed up tight. It was as if depth charges were being detonated in my stomach, my throat, and now in my lungs as well.

-Swallow! she screamed, Swallow! I want it all to go down! All the way down!

Is it remotely possible there was still a part of me capable of obeying her? Summoning a will I didn’t know existed, I swallowed with all my remaining strength. I heard the sound of her laughter in my head now as my skull conducted it internally from her cheek. She clung to me like a vice and that whole mouthful of hazardous waste went back down; half lungs, half stomach. She held me tightly in place as my body bucked and kicked, writhing with electric shock waves of incalculable intensity. My lungs exploded into flames. I couldn’t believe how strong she was to hold my mouth and nose sealed shut during such convulsions. The pain in my broken nose was excruciating as she clipped it with her strong, youthful fingers.

At length, the convulsions softened enough to warrant her letting go of me. Now, of course, I violently threw up blood, bile, internal bodily tissue, puss, vomit, multi-colored chemical remains, pretty much whatever had ever been a part of me, but by now, the damage had been done. It was the most horrifying scene imaginable, beyond comprehension.

-Almost done, she laughed. Get your ass over to the end of the sofa and look at my ass! And take that knife with you!

I was too far gone to make it to my post. As a result, she had to drag me there by my hair and prop me up on my knees where I continued to puke, bleed, and scream like some hideous B-Movie monster, mutant beyond description from poisons, radiation and bomb blasts. I could barely make her out as she lay down again so gracefully on that sofa, her ass quivering gently as she settled into place. The sounds from my mouth were unholy, inhuman, otherworldly, and I can only imagine that the vision of me as a bloody pulp of a head, with my entire body now heaving inside out with ceaseless vomiting must have been incomprehensible.

-OK, pig, she said, still giggling, put the knife to your fucking throat. Do it now!

I obeyed as best I could.

-Now, it’s your choice, she said. The knife, or the chemicals. Do you have any idea what measure of kindness I'm showing you in giving you a choice of how you want to die? Do you!?

I gurgled out a pathetic 'Yes, Your Highness.

-Because you see, pig-man, if you use the knife, you'll be outta your fucking misery in a flash. But with the chemicals, you get to spend more time in my presence. But, like I said, it's up to you. I don’t give a fucking rat's ass how you die...as long as you die!

I knelt there, again beholding with my one good eye the marvel of her ass and legs. I screamed again, vomited again, bled some more; this was the form of my prayer. I felt the sharp blade against my throat and knew what must be done. I had one chance to continue in prayer for a short while longer. That settled, I let the knife drop to the floor.