Susan Strict
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"The Face Seat" was a short, incomplete novel I received from an author I've called "Maxwell Crush". I've edited, finished, and published it! I hope some of you will enjoy this extract from it:
Mrs Abdul pointed to a side room off the main entrance hall to her rather grand apartment. The sheer beauty of the décor and ornamentation astonished David, and in this particular room the sight that met him took his breath away. The room, painted in deep crimson, was adorned by numerous framed drawings of rather plump ladies sitting on the faces of male slaves who were without exception much weaker and pathetic in stature. In the centre of the room was a leather-topped, narrow table, about three feet high, and upon this table was a heavily restrained man.
“Meet my husband Kalib, David,†said Mrs Abdul, as though making polite introductions at a society tea party. “I sit on his face quite a lot, so I prefer to keep him in this position most of the time.â€
David was stunned. What could he say?
“The thing is, David,†Mrs Abdul continued, “I fear that I am wearing him out. Just look at his face – all red and blistered. I only sit on him for 14 hours a day and as you can see he blisters up and goes all red. That’s a great pity, don’t you think?â€
“I... I... don’t really know Mrs Abdul. I...†David’s brain could not absorb the reality of the dream that now faced him. Mr Abdul’s groaning and the pleading look in the eyes shook David out of his illusions.
Just he thought he had worked out what he wanted to say, there was a loud SLAP. Mrs Abdul’s well aimed backhand struck accurately and very severely across her husband’s face.
“He needs another sitting!†she declared.
With that, Mrs Abdul hiked up her skirt and stepped into the stirrups hanging down either side of the “seatmountâ€, as she liked the framework to be called. With remarkable agility, she swung her right leg over the prone face of her husband quickly plonked her magnificent derriere right onto his face, her anus pressed brutally against his upturned but very bruised nose. Her moistening cunt engulfed his lower face with only her moist, silky black panties separating her from him.
“Ahhhhhhhh!†Mrs Abdul sighed loudly. “This is what I crave, David, and that is why I have my husband restrained here on this table. I sit on his face regularly, every day. His nose must be against my anus for at least ten hours. I demand that he spend four hours as a minimum with his tongue up my backside, but that’s where he fails. Of course I whip him hard. Of course I beat his testicles... but still he is not good enough.â€
With that, Mrs Abdul lifted a mallet from the side table and just as promptly dropped it down again, bringing an involuntary shudder from the victim beneath her,
“And, of course,†she continued, “I piss all over his face and down his throat, but still he fails to insert his tongue properly into my magnificent arse! It is easy to facesit him and to force him to smell me. It is no problem to control his breathing, to smother him whenever I wish, but to make his tongue do as I wish it to do is quite an impossible task. He will never do it properly, despite the pain, and that’s why I keep him tied up like this – the bastard WILL do it properly. Eventually.â€
With that, Mrs Abdul started to gyrate rhythmically backwards and forwards upon her husband’s compressed and smothered face, making guttural sounds as she moved. Somehow, the noises she made seemed to David to match her actions perfectly, as her husband suffered and his bruising was undoubtedly increasing with every move she made.
David felt light headed. Mrs Abdul, even through her orgasmic motions, realised the effect she was having on him. She slowed to a gentle rocking, taking the opportunity to reflect on the possibilities. She opened her eyes wide, and gazed at her now-shaking tenant.
“So, David? What do you think?â€
“I... I... I don’t know wha...â€
“Perhaps you wish you were my husband?â€
Her question was direct. It was deliberate. It had not taken Mrs Abdul long to work out the potential she had with such a man living downstairs. She already knew that David was a regular masturbator. Although he had no idea she had seen him, much less that she watched him regularly, the truth was that she could see in through his windows from hers on the higher floor, and she had made the most of opportunity to watch. She had taken note of everything she saw.
A sudden gasp from beneath her made Mrs Abdul extremely angry. She raised her body, and then dropped her heavy buttocks down onto the face of her husband.
“YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW THAT YOU DO NOT MAKE A NOISE WHEN I AM SEATED – ESPECIALLY WHEN WE HAVE A GUEST!â€
Her husband groaned. His wife’s full weight was never easy to take, and those magnificent buttocks came close to crushing his skull when she pounded down onto him. Her aroma intoxicated him, blurring his senses. Her bottom had filled his vision and had pressed down onto his face for many thousands of hours in total since she had first introduced him to her preferred form of subjugation.
“Mmmmmphhhhhhh!†was the only sound Mr Abdul could make.
“Of course... there is always an alternative!â€
Mrs Abdul eyed David questioningly as he still stood transfixed at what he was seeing, swaying to and fro slightly.
“Mrs Abdul...?†David asked stupidly.
“Yes. YOU!!!â€
Mrs Abdul pointed to a side room off the main entrance hall to her rather grand apartment. The sheer beauty of the décor and ornamentation astonished David, and in this particular room the sight that met him took his breath away. The room, painted in deep crimson, was adorned by numerous framed drawings of rather plump ladies sitting on the faces of male slaves who were without exception much weaker and pathetic in stature. In the centre of the room was a leather-topped, narrow table, about three feet high, and upon this table was a heavily restrained man.
“Meet my husband Kalib, David,†said Mrs Abdul, as though making polite introductions at a society tea party. “I sit on his face quite a lot, so I prefer to keep him in this position most of the time.â€
David was stunned. What could he say?
“The thing is, David,†Mrs Abdul continued, “I fear that I am wearing him out. Just look at his face – all red and blistered. I only sit on him for 14 hours a day and as you can see he blisters up and goes all red. That’s a great pity, don’t you think?â€
“I... I... don’t really know Mrs Abdul. I...†David’s brain could not absorb the reality of the dream that now faced him. Mr Abdul’s groaning and the pleading look in the eyes shook David out of his illusions.
Just he thought he had worked out what he wanted to say, there was a loud SLAP. Mrs Abdul’s well aimed backhand struck accurately and very severely across her husband’s face.
“He needs another sitting!†she declared.
With that, Mrs Abdul hiked up her skirt and stepped into the stirrups hanging down either side of the “seatmountâ€, as she liked the framework to be called. With remarkable agility, she swung her right leg over the prone face of her husband quickly plonked her magnificent derriere right onto his face, her anus pressed brutally against his upturned but very bruised nose. Her moistening cunt engulfed his lower face with only her moist, silky black panties separating her from him.
“Ahhhhhhhh!†Mrs Abdul sighed loudly. “This is what I crave, David, and that is why I have my husband restrained here on this table. I sit on his face regularly, every day. His nose must be against my anus for at least ten hours. I demand that he spend four hours as a minimum with his tongue up my backside, but that’s where he fails. Of course I whip him hard. Of course I beat his testicles... but still he is not good enough.â€
With that, Mrs Abdul lifted a mallet from the side table and just as promptly dropped it down again, bringing an involuntary shudder from the victim beneath her,
“And, of course,†she continued, “I piss all over his face and down his throat, but still he fails to insert his tongue properly into my magnificent arse! It is easy to facesit him and to force him to smell me. It is no problem to control his breathing, to smother him whenever I wish, but to make his tongue do as I wish it to do is quite an impossible task. He will never do it properly, despite the pain, and that’s why I keep him tied up like this – the bastard WILL do it properly. Eventually.â€
With that, Mrs Abdul started to gyrate rhythmically backwards and forwards upon her husband’s compressed and smothered face, making guttural sounds as she moved. Somehow, the noises she made seemed to David to match her actions perfectly, as her husband suffered and his bruising was undoubtedly increasing with every move she made.
David felt light headed. Mrs Abdul, even through her orgasmic motions, realised the effect she was having on him. She slowed to a gentle rocking, taking the opportunity to reflect on the possibilities. She opened her eyes wide, and gazed at her now-shaking tenant.
“So, David? What do you think?â€
“I... I... I don’t know wha...â€
“Perhaps you wish you were my husband?â€
Her question was direct. It was deliberate. It had not taken Mrs Abdul long to work out the potential she had with such a man living downstairs. She already knew that David was a regular masturbator. Although he had no idea she had seen him, much less that she watched him regularly, the truth was that she could see in through his windows from hers on the higher floor, and she had made the most of opportunity to watch. She had taken note of everything she saw.
A sudden gasp from beneath her made Mrs Abdul extremely angry. She raised her body, and then dropped her heavy buttocks down onto the face of her husband.
“YOU SHOULD KNOW BY NOW THAT YOU DO NOT MAKE A NOISE WHEN I AM SEATED – ESPECIALLY WHEN WE HAVE A GUEST!â€
Her husband groaned. His wife’s full weight was never easy to take, and those magnificent buttocks came close to crushing his skull when she pounded down onto him. Her aroma intoxicated him, blurring his senses. Her bottom had filled his vision and had pressed down onto his face for many thousands of hours in total since she had first introduced him to her preferred form of subjugation.
“Mmmmmphhhhhhh!†was the only sound Mr Abdul could make.
“Of course... there is always an alternative!â€
Mrs Abdul eyed David questioningly as he still stood transfixed at what he was seeing, swaying to and fro slightly.
“Mrs Abdul...?†David asked stupidly.
“Yes. YOU!!!â€
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