My face was a mess. Struggling upright, I managed to splash some water on it at the sink before she brushed past me and stepped into the bathtub. I forgot my own plight and scurried toward her immediately, anxious to be of further service. Not the same kind, hopefully, but anxious nonetheless, anxious to make the most of our final night here.
"Uh, do you want me to help, "
"No, kiddo, not at the moment, I'd rather be alone. I've still got some thinking to do, remember? Don't worry, you'll be kept pretty busy tonight, I promise. Meanwhile just wait for me in the bedroom, I'll let you know if I need anything."
Reluctant to leave her, I took a last look and then went out and sat down on the bed. My pulse pounded and I was conscious of a rising nervous apprehension, almost a touch of terror. In bowing to her will so abjectly, I was losing all vestige of common sense and letting emotion take precedence over reason. There was even a tingle of excitement mixed with the terror, and I found myself wondering breathlessly what would come next. Actually I should have been darn glad to get out of the bathroom; at least it wouldn't be that again. But there was always a chance of it later on, of course, and that too seemed oddly exciting somehow, a vague and ill-defined challenge that might suddenly become grotesquely precise. Of all the silly things to get tingly about, imagine!
After a while, sooner than expected, she padded into the bedroom with that swaying gait of hers, her tawny skin slightly reddened from the heat of the bath. She reeked of musk and spice, the scent of the oil obviously supplemented with one of her many perfumes; one sniff was enough to stir me anew.
"I left the water in the tub, honey. No sense wasting it, though, jump in and take a bath yourself."
"Huh? In the same water?"
"Why not? You ought to feel honored." Grinning, she sprawled on the bed and waved me away airily. "Into the tub with you."
Once in the bathroom I suffered a fleeting pang of distaste, then I took the plunge resolutely and became aware only of the all-encompassing scented warmth. And of my own sweet surge of humility, a disconcerting but deliciously welcome sensation. So even lying in Zoe's bathwater wasn't repulsive to me. In fact, it soon seemed quite pleasant, too much so, perhaps, I was just beginning to get nicely relaxed when her voice penetrated from the bedroom and intruded upon my reverie:
"Hey, don't get too comfortable in there." A loud snap of fingers added emphasis to the already peremptory tone. "Shake your ass, kid, I've got a job for you to do."
I shook it fast, up and out and toweling myself dry as the water gurgled down the drain. "What can I do for you?"
"I'd like a little service. Come here."
Obedience was second nature practically, especially to an order like that. I hurried, eager to tumble into bed with her. That kind of service? I was eager, sure enough, eager to take her in my arms and offer up a whole slew of services. Only it didn't exactly work out that way, nor was she even dressed for the occasion now, once again swathed in a negligee. But no panties this time, at least a small concession to my eagerness, for which I was duly grateful.
She pointed one bare foot at me. "I'm tired of this pearly stuff. How about doing a job on my toenails, huh? Slap on some of that ruby red for me, brighten up the picture, okay?"
It wasn't the type of service I had anticipated, but even her most frivolous wishes carried weight with me. I got out the nail polishing kit and organized the various pieces of equipment; then, seated on a hassock at bedside, I launched into my assigned task. Meticulously, taking the greatest of pains, I began removing the old lacquer to prepare for the new.
"Ruby red… " She lit a cigarette, inhaling and expelling the smoke slowly, her expression faintly sardonic. "Ruby red nails, that's about as close as I'll ever get to the real thing."
"Hmm? I don't understand."
"All my life I wanted to own one good piece of jewelry, a ruby or an emerald or something like that, a stone with class, you know? Not some cruddy half-ass diamond, either. I knew a dame once who had a ruby toe-ring, the real McCoy, no phony. Believe me, I sure envied that old bag."
"She, she wore a ring on her foot?"
"Uh-huh. Always made a big hit with it, too. Not that I'd wear mine like that, if I ever got one. If. If my ship comes in, my long-lost ship… "
"Cheer up, maybe you'll get lucky in the lottery."
"Yeah. Maybe. I'll never make it whoring, that's for sure. As a matter of fact, I just might be getting out of the racket one of these days. Or getting into it deeper, you might say."
"How's that again? Don't confuse me, I'm liable to get nervous and splash ruby red all over the place. Zoe, what do you mean?"
"Well, that's what I've been thinking about all this time, trying to make up my mind. I'd like to go in business for myself, just set up the appointments, that sort of thing. I can't compete with you young ones any more; why shouldn't I become a madam?"
"Oh. You mean like… uh… "
"Yeah. Just sit by the telephone and arrange dates. Only I'd kind of specialize and play safe, keep the operation small. Very small and very discreet. For women only."
"Clients? Women clients?"
"Don't look so shocked, kid, it's just another way of making a living. Gay hookers for gay customers. Anyway, I still haven't decided yet, I've got to talk to a few people when we get back to town. How's my paint job coming?"
"Fine. Almost through. But about this idea of yours, "
"Forget it, honey, we're still on vacation. Case closed."
Case closed, oh sure, only it wasn't closed at all, and I just couldn't help brooding a little, wondering if she was really serious. Zoe a lesbian madam? Ugh. A procuress of young girls for wealthy women, lesbian hookers for lesbian clients, it sounded dirty somehow, a sordid business, unnatural! A go-between for perverts, what kind of career was that? Was the money really so important?
Hmm. Perhaps there were other compensations. Fringe-benefits. Maybe she would get to audition the cute youngsters herself. Oh shit, I only wished I had a ruby or emerald to give her, anything to wheedle her away from this unsavory pursuit. But no, the best I could offer was ruby red nail-polish. Applied with love…
The toenails gleamed. I took a few crowning swipes with the buffer and bent to kiss her foot. The toes wriggled between my lips and I heard her chuckle delightedly, then she stubbed her cigarette out and rolled over upon her stomach. With one leg still angled in my direction, she reached behind her to pull the negligee loose. It slid high on her back, baring her body from the waist down, all but pointing those big bulgy buttocks at me.
"Kid? Do it this way, huh?"
The sole of her foot was turned toward me now, but I went on kissing. Then upward, over the curve of the calf, both calves, as I left the hassock to rest one knee on the bed. To the thick thighs, thick and fleshy and almost gross, fueling my humility, recharging the thrill. Until there was only one place left to go, one place, for my lips to worship. There. And I was already enslaved by my own need…
"Come on, sexy, what are you waiting for?"
My mouth opened upon the soft cheeks and I felt a desire to ravish every bit of her bottom with suck-kisses. I heard a tiny snort of impatience after a while, though, and then the great dimpled domes quivered and separated and yielded invitingly to the nuzzling pressure of my face. The velvety skin enticed and entrapped, coaxing the tongue right out of my mouth. And right into the hole, the firm little pucker of flesh that stretched and tightened alternately, spasmodically, dictating the rhythm and governing the thrust even as the crack of her ass collected moisture and turned everything slick and slippery. We were doing pretty well together, I figured, and got myself geared for a long siege in this position. Only she made a quaint change, in her own unpredictable manner.
It happened so swiftly that I couldn't keep track. All of a sudden she was twisting out from under, dumping me off and flipping me flat on my back; above me, her buttocks looked positively enormous, an awesome sight, and I whimpered in fear and actually started to struggle. But she had already grabbed a handful of my hair and the clutching fingers crushed the revolt and held me motionless as her plump ass engulfed my face. And there I was, pinned down, sealed in a prison of flesh, shut off from all light and sound.
Mercifully, the prison gates relented and I gasped for breath, not knowing if the next one might be my last. I could hear her now, too, not very clearly but enough to catch that far-off wavering voice and fill in the blanks.
"Our last night together, let's make it a good one. You're in for a rough time, kid. And when I say rough… "
There was more out there, a whole stream of such words, but the pressure came on again and muted their meaning, the monstrous pressure of her rump and the meaty thickness of her thighs and the piled-high mountain of her body, and all I could pick up was a rumbling noise that sounded like the whisper of an ominously smoldering volcano. But I knew what she wanted, what she was probably demanding of me from her lofty perch up there, and I couldn't go wrong just sticking out my tongue. Uh-huh. That was it. The pressure appeared to be lightening a bit and she had begun to rock her body, sweeping back and forth across my tongue. Uh-huh. Rubbing her crotch over my face, the long furrow from spine to pelvis, her ass swinging above me like a huge pendulum. No, not above me, not exactly. On me. In me. Around me. Grinding down harder and harder and practically surrounding me, smearing herself all over me.
It was rough, all right, the rocking motion coupled with an increase of pressure, and my jaws weakened and went wide. Now I had to bear the oppressive burden upon my open mouth. As if I was swallowing it. Or was it swallowing me? Humiliating, to say the least. Ugly. Messy. Hateful, the entire business. But I couldn't stop, of course, I couldn't escape, I couldn't do anything but suffer in silence, a poor mistreated slave girl…
Hah! Suffer? Every slave should be so lucky! Sexy little Dana-slut was doing just fine, thank you, everything was coming up roses. Because of the thrill tearing me apart. The thing inside me, the thing busting loose all by itself, untouched by human hands!, while that big body up there just went on using my mouth. One of nature's wonders, no less. The thrill, the thing, the thing deep in my gut, so perfect, so uniquely perfect for me, ah yes, I knew right then and there that my mortal flesh could no longer function without it. I would dry up and wither and die. I would starve and crumble and turn to dust. Only the miracle of that ripe body could slake my thirst and appease my hunger. Only if I drank Zoe and ate Zoe and became a part of Zoe would there be life for me. Life and health and a chance for happiness. Not sanity, perhaps, but I wasn't asking for everything, just the thing, miraculous but surely a bit mad…