Michael fidgeted nervously in the backseat with his sister. She handed him a glass of red wine, which she assured him was her favourite. He had been that used to being trained to be dominated by women that having his big sister treat him like a member of the family made him a little nervous.
"Michael, don't worry. I promise you won't have to do any of your duties until we get to the mansion. Even if you want to." She smiled.
Mike smiled. He rubbed his temple where his sister's big thighs had squeezed him not so long ago. As much as he was trained to endure such subservience he wasn't eager to have to deal with his strong sis's legs again anytime soon. He took a sip as she did, and she began to describe his duties to him. Her client had specifically requested Michael and had been following him for some time. He wondered who she was. She had requested that Michael be blindfolded by burrowing his face under his sister's skirt and into her panty-clad rump as she escorted him from the car into the mansion. He wasn't very happy about that, but she knew he'd be more comfortable with a female bottom in his face and none of their female escort deserved to have her brother's skilled ministrations. When she carefully got off his face he was surprised.
The room was darkened but for a single dim lamp placed in a nook on the near wall. It was obviously an antique, and from the looks of it very well made. The room smelled exotic - of candle smoke and incense. He took a deep breath and enjoyed the ennervating aroma. He couldn't make out much;he got the impression of loungers and sofas, throw rugs and pillows, and a large viewing window in front of which his new owner stood. He couldn't make out her face, turned away and lost in the darkness as they were, but he saw what he needed to see - that plump, gelatinous, impossibly wide arse. His earlier estimates were wrong, this crack must be three feet deep! And though there were traces of cellulite and quite a bit of mature sag in the bottom of the cheeks most of the skin was smooth and pale as fine porcelain. Sensations of regality and dominance flowed off of it. He drooled, his cock stirring.
Debra smiled, and pressed a foot against his back. "Your new ass-slave, Madame." She pushed him forward. The lady barely moved, but regarded him with one disinterested eye over the high swell of her shoulders and waved him softly forward. Mike, taking some care, shuffled forward on his knees for the opening ritual.
He was on his knees behind her, his hands cupped as if in prayer, he leaned in close and began whispering softly into her crack.
"I swear to be my mistress' obedient ass-slave. When you sit, let it be on my face; when you sleep, let me be wedged between your cheeks; when you wash, let me be there to clean. My face is your seat, my tongue is at your ass-crack's discretion. It will be my honour and deepest desire to kiss and worship your ass as if it were my own wife, for it is more attractive to me than any woman's face. This I swear." Michael finished his pledge and kissed one porcine cheek, and then the other. They jiggled like fresh jello as he pressed his face into that dark, smelly crack and tried to kiss her anus, but her cleft was so deep and her cheeks so heavy he wasn't sure if he made it. It sure smelled like he did.
"Very good Michael. That will do."
There was a quite moment. His brain seemed to shut down with the sound of those familiar tones
"Mo-mother?!"
She had to turn around then, to show him her face, matured, slightly chubbier, but still beautiful, regal, dominating. And seeing the utter shock on his face, the blossoming realization, well even she couldn't help herself but smile.
She smiled down at him, her beautiful high cheekbones framing a plump, regal face.
"Oh? Is there a problem? You were so talkative a minute ago. Enraptured by the beauty of my enormous, plump bottom, perhaps? The bottom where you will now be spending most of the rest of your life, hmm?"
She began gyrating her hips slowly, obscenely in front of him.
"I need a new ass-slave. I'm afraid I rather wore the last one out with overuse. The silly boy couldn't even last 6 weeks with his face chained inside my buttcrack for every second of every day, morning noon and night, before he expired rather pathetically between my cheeks. At least he had a warm, comfortable death though, no?" She turned around with a regal flourish and he was presented with a truely monolithic sight. Waves of mass and warmth seemed to emanate from his mother's titanic derriere, immense and soft as many middle-aged women's were, but still round, still toned and still very, very dangerous. "I think he rather enjoyed the caress of my rump on his face as she slipped into death's warm, smelly embrace. And make no mistake, Michael - you will perish in my bottom now. The only question is - when? I want it to be after a long, fulfilling and distinguished life pressed up my bottom as my permanent ass-slave, being closer to me than anyone and thus in a position of great power in our mighty house. But you may see otherwise. You may not be able to take it, and make seek death early or give up in my beautiful rump's endless caress. This I cannot prevent, but as your mother I will help you, and I expect the best from you always." She half-turned her head towards her daughter, waiting patiently behind them both. "Debra will help you too, of course."
"Of course mother. Little brother will never be short a listening ear or guiding pair of thighs for his neck." She curtsied.
"That should be an honour for you. My daughter, your sister, has the finest thighs in the household next to mine."
But then his mother's bum gifted him with a loud fart. Something clicked in his shell-shocked head. He knew farts. Farts were pure; farts he could understand.
"Steak, caramalized onions, sweet potatoes and pepper-gravy." He said automatically. His mother raised a brow in mild surprise.
"My, my. Are you sure? Here, have a further dosage and give me your findings." She gently pulled her mammoth cheeks apart - not far enough that her son could see her dark hole, but just enough for a pocket of trapped gas to waft out. He sniffed took a long, hard sniff of it, as if a wine-taster testing the bouquet, inhaling it deeply.
"And asparagus as a side." He concluded.
Debra chuckled softly, but their mother silenced her with a glare.
"You always did have such an exquisite sense of smell, son. I shall treasure keeping it locked away inside my buttcrack forever."
Suddenly two handmaids appeared and swiftly pulled up her dark silk panties. Where they there the whole time he wondered as she dropped her skirt to the floor, sat waiting in the darkness, watching? His mother strode away from her lookout, and suddenly he was hit with a deathly smell of excrement.
"We'll complete the ritual tomorrow. I know you take your binding to my bottom very seriously so I'll think of some trials for you to sit before then, but for now I have to go to work."
Still in shock his training kicked in, unbidden. "Mistress please let me show you my dedication by offering my tongue to your anus until you are brought to orgasm -"
"I doubt you could Michael, at least as you are now, but we'll work on it." She turned to Debra as her handmaids prepared her to leave.
"Have him clean out my toilet. If it's not unclogged and spotless by the time I get back he'll be punished."
Debra nodded solemnly. There was no plunger, no brush. Michael stared dumbly at their mother's retreating figure.
"Her ass will be the last thing you see every night, and the first thing you wake up to each morning." She patted him on the head.
"De- Deb, I - I'm not sure about this - I thought I could but -"
"It's mom." She nodded. "This is exactly why she wanted you for this. Because you'll have to get to like it, and she'll like that. It'll bring you closer." She patted her brother consolingly on the shoulder.
"Just give up, and let her sit on your face."
"You'll function as her chair. Mom has a penchant for human chairs but none seem to last very long. We're hoping you'll take to the role permanently. You won't get a chance with any other woman now - you're bonded. It's mom's ass on your face for the rest of your life, and you have to -"
"Treat it like it's my wife, yeah I said the oath. Let's go and see what my wife's left us then."
"Left you, little brother. I have work to do on behalf of the House. Mom isn't the only working female around here. Be happy though - you're the only man in a house with dozens of gorgeous women!" She smiled warmly. "I'll be back to check you're okay." She kissed him on the cheek and left.
Michael edged closer to the white porcelain rim. Even from here the smell was strong, and he could see what was clogging it. He looked over the rim as his mom's stench rushed up into his face. There was no water in the bowl. She's a big woman, of course she'd leave a big mess.
No plunger, and no towel.
Right.
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