It was
night and I lay with Anya and Paxton on the hotel bed, whose linens were
scented with the sex they’d been having across the day. They were spooning,
Paxton wrapped against Anya’s back, with me tightly packed between his
stiffened groin and her plush butt. He had
pulled his aching member free and now, as he grinded Anya affectionately from
behind, the bulging tip stroked my body into the crevice of her butt cheeks.
Every time
I tried to take a breath his impatient member intruded into my face. Wanting
some peace, I wrenched myself around until I was facing the long shadowy cleft
of Anya’s crack, bordered on each side by a meaty pale moon. She let out a
pleasurable giggle of surprise at my movements, while the giant member at my
back rubbed back and forth over my scalp as Paxton’s hips commenced a grind
that was quickly building to orgasm.
In sheer
desperation to protect my face from an imminent wad of jizz, I dug my hands
into Anya’s butt crack in an attempt to peel it back a little, took a deep
breath, and plunged my face inside the sweaty valley. The huge meaty cheeks
crushed into the sides of my head, keeping my face packed in position like a
marble encased in dough. An instant
later, Paxton let out a groan and fluid spilled over the back of my head and
shoulder blades.
Anya’s butt
muscles clenched and suddenly my head was being pulled by its irresistible
shockwave of pressure, forced to tunnel deeper into her crack. It was as if a
vacuum was sucking, and no way of stopping it. Her boyfriend’s half-flaccid
dick blocked my other side, and as I went further in, the wall of his waist
intently moved closer in against Anya’s butt. The motion
stopped at the puckered knot of her anus, which quivered with excitement as my
head pressed it like a massaging probe.
Minutes
passed as I was trapped there, there was a increasing feeling of hardness and
tightness at the back of my shaved head as the semen dried. My stomach sunk in
dismay as I realized: my head was now stuck to the tip of his penis, like it
had been glued in place.
I tried
turning my head, this only increased the tight, hard feeling around my scalp,
like someone tugging my hair (if I’d still had hair). I tried kicking and thrashing, which only caused me to bounce and swing. I was so light and tiny
that my movement wasn’t enough to break the bond. Meanwhile his refractory
period had subsided, and now his dick was getting harder and harder against my
skull.
As he
shifted his hips and bumped Anya’s butt, my head was tugged and jerked around.
His penis was gently trying to get closer and closer against her butthole, but
my head was in the way, and getting poked about in the process.
He finally
let out a frustrated grunt and went to slide away from her.
“I’VE GOT
TO TAKE A LEAK,” he mumbled.
For a
second, my head was being pulled in opposite directions; by Anya’s glutes in
front, and Paxton’s dick from behind. There was a rapid, smooching pressure
over my face before the wrinkled hole escaped while I flew upwards. The tight
feeling in my head suddenly gained arresting strength and control over my
entire body, effortlessly hoisting me up through the air. Then it stopped,
leaving me seemingly levitating.
Feeling
light tugging at his groin, Paxton had stepped back and spied me dangling
between his legs, the back of my head stuck to the end of his now raging
erection. As he stared down at me, his arousal grew, hardening up his dick even
more, until his pulse was hammering away at my skull. My head was caught in a
tight, throbbing trap and felt like it would pop.
He shifted
back and forth on his feet as he tried to observe me from directly above, and
his motions caused me to bob back and forth. A ripple of extreme discomfort
coursed through my insides. The most embarrassing part was that all the
stimulation had given me a huge erection of my own. Paxton’s hand descended
upon my body to thumb the tip of my organ with interest as he examined my
girth. I struggled weakly but there was no escaping this debasement while my
head was stuck fast to his own swelled up meatus.
In an
attempt to separate me, he plucked up my foot and pulled me out horizontally.
But as soon as he tugged me, my head hurt at the point where it was stuck to
his fleshy dome. I made a sound of discomfort and he let go, causing me to
swing back and forth for a second.
Sensing
that he’d paused at the bedside, Anya’s long, pale form gracefully swished
around to face him. The motion caused her breasts to jiggle upon the mattress,
the sight sent pressure through my shaft, which pointed without apology at her.
Then her eyes quickly dropped to where I hung. The sight of her gazing upon my
predicament caused my cheeks to burn red.
She
giggled.
“YOUR DICK
HAS PICKED UP SOME LUGGAGE.”
Paxton let
out a chuckle while reaching down to give my chest a small squeeze. One of his
fingertips accidentally brushed by my member, sending an irritated shiver up my
spine. He shifted his balance to one side, tilting me.
Anya
watched this whole display, pupils dilated with keen interest, and her hand
glided down upon one of her creamy breasts and teased the blushing red nipple.
Against every ounce of willpower, my dick stiffened. She wasn’t teasing me, she
genuinely seemed to find the sight of me hanging from Paxton’s dick hot. In
fact, judging from the growing heat and tightness in my scalp, he did too. And, horribly, maybe he
would have kept me there longer, if he hadn’t needed to pee.
Impatiently,
he clasped my foot again and tugged. My scalp tightened and stretched before he
gave up and let me dangle again. Abandoning that idea, he reached
for a glass tumbler filled with gin on the bedside table and held it directly
beneath me. Next second I was being enveloped in the cold, wet world contained
inside the tumbler, as he brought it upwards. My vision
went murky as I was fully submerged and held in the beverage. The exchange of
their voices vibrated inside the glass, as if heard from another world, while stray bubbles tickled my flesh as
they zipped up to the surface. The bitter tang streamed up my nose. I shivered uncontrollably in the cold liquid.
“—GOT A
BETTER IDEA?” Paxton’s voice cleared as I was lifted out of the glass again,
dripping in alcohol.
Finally
Anya fixed him with the sultry look she had been giving me.
She came
crawling over the bed, rising onto her haunches in front of Paxton and gripping
his hips between her hands. My legs were kicking pointlessly as her pale lips
expanded to ring around my feet and draw tightly up my length.
The
pressure of her moist lips moved with speed and force, thoughtlessly sucking up
every inch of my dangling alcohol-drenched body, until I was packed away into
the dark entrance of her throat and poised teasingly in her upper esophagus for
and extended moment while she stimulated Paxton’s erection. The muscular tube
of her upper throat exacted a series of gentle pumping motions on my body as
she restrained her gag reflex. When she moaned, her larynx vibrated my ribcage.
Then my
back was sliding the other way, passing between her tonsils. The quivering, sticky uvula pounded into my erection and slid along my stomach, chest and face as I
rolled backwards along the back of her tongue towards her lips. Right before
clearing the ridge of her teeth and mercifully breaking out into the bedroom
light, the direction flipped, sending me speeding back down the airy vacuum.
This process flipped repeatedly as I was sucked in and out of her throat in a
show of lusty fervor. Anya wanted to show Paxton her masterful technique and
stamina, using me as the instrument to aid the demonstration.
My body
scoured back and forth over the surface of her tongue as if I was a toothbrush to
clean the bacteria away, splashing through the deposits of saliva on
the way, causing it to get wicked up into gluey clouds of froth in my face. Then, at the very end of her
mouth, the all-surrounding arch of her throat captured and squeezed me like a
fist squeezing a sponge. Stuck in her gullet, my feet dangled with nothing but
a chute of warm air below until the folded up purse of her stomach.
Once I felt
like a mere piece of food stuck in her throat, I toured her oral cavity in
reverse, the tongue curved to cradle me, steering me towards the exit, pausing
unbearably close, then slurping me deeper again. This cycle
played on until there was an explosion of pressure in the back of my head as
Paxton was driven to ejaculate with a primal groan of relief. My head was freed
with a painful pop and became awash with his fluid.
Satisfied,
Paxton disappeared into the Hotel bathroom, while Anya fished me out of her
mouth. Holding me in one hand, she reclined on the mattress, and her interest
returned to the most eye-catching part of my anatomy.
As she
brought me closer and closer to her parting lips, her features magnified until
they were unbearably intimate, and her hot breath clung to me. Finally, her
lips smacked upon my dick, and now the combination of the cyclonic force of her
sucking throat and the ironing pressure of her lips, was concentrated wholly
upon the tiny surface area of my own defenseless erection.
*
Ever since
my botched escape attempt, Anya had been looking for amusing things to do with
me – for her amusement, not mine. I was strung up in panty and bra hammocks and
received several ‘beauty makeovers’ by the tour stylist.
One day
Paxton strode onto the tour bus and dug me out of Anya’s duffel bag, placing me
down on the long leather seat in the ‘back lounge’ of the bus.
He had
found a couple of strange items, probably from some toy store emporium. One was
a doll-sized inflatable pool, the other was a remote control bus. The toy bus
had been given a paint job to look like a miniature replica of the actual tour
bus. It had an empty driver's cabin, which Paxton eagerly stuffed me inside, and took the toy vehicle outside.
For some time I zipped at high speed around the parking lot at high speed from the toy bus's cabin, with Paxton standing some way off, handling the controls, hollering with glee as the bus successfully pulled off little tricks. Eventually, the bus failed at a hairpin turn and rolled. I went flying out the open driver window and splashed into a gutter. Seconds later, Paxton's huge hand grasped me up, and dangling me by one hand, he cast me a cursory look of disgust at my muddy, wet body.
Back inside the bus, he blew up the inflatable pool and filled it with hot water.
“TIME FOR
YOUR BATH, PEACH,” he said, arranging me in a sitting position in the water.
‘Peach’ was his nickname for me because my skin was so soft and smooth. A bunch
of product was squeezed out of a tube, plopping into the water with me. It
immediately began to fizzle and bubble, creating a layer of foam on the
surface.
Finally, he
found a small scrubbing brush from the bus’s bathroom and put it into my hand.
“GET
SCRUBBING!” he said. “ANYA’S GOING TO BE BACK REAL SOON.”
After he
stepped off the bus for a cigarette, I started to run the brush over my arms.
The bristles ran like teeth over skin, causing me to stop and tremble. All
those drug patches had made my skin more sensitive. Putting the brush aside, I
leaned my back against the firm inflated pool edge, letting the hot steam flood
my senses. The heat slowly dulled my prickling flesh, and my eyes started to
close…
*
Pairs of
footsteps stamped up onto the bus floor. Anya and one of the female crew
members, a back-up dancer, were laughing and singing as they strode past me. The
air smelled thickly fruity and sweet, and upon opening my eyes, I was met with
a strange sight.
There was a
huge fluid sponge gripping my face. A second later I realized what must have
happened.
The product
in the bath had continued to bubble while I was napping, in fact it had bubbled
up so much, it had formed a mushroom top of something like champagne foam,
which completely buried me within. Passing by the lounge, the women didn’t even
see me.
The dancer
used the bus bathroom while Anya was in the kitchenette, with ice clinking into
glasses. After the toilet flushed and the dancer stepped out into the lounge,
she exclaimed:
“THAT IS SO
CUTE!” her footsteps clomped at me, “IT’S A FOOT BATH BUT IT’S LIKE A SUPER
SMALL POOL! – THIS YOURS?”
“NOPE,”
called Anya. “BEATS ME WHERE IT CAME FROM.”
“MY FEET
ARE SO SWEATY AFTER REHEARSAL,” the
other female said. “YOU DON’T MIND IF I DUNK ‘EM IN?”
“GO RIGHT
AHEAD! JUST DON’T POP IT WITH YOUR BIG FEET!”
“HEY, DON’T
KNOCK MY ‘BIG FEET’. THEY’RE BUSTING OUT YOUR ROUTINES ALL NIGHT, EVERY NIGHT!”
The edges
of the pool lifted and there was a weird feeling of something poking up under
my butt and balls. It was one of the crew member’s fingertips. She had slid her
hands in beneath the pool floor, on either side.
Then the
entire pool flew up off the seating before dropping to land on the firmer bus
floor. My butt slid out from me, I fell backwards and sunk under the warm
water. The women’s voices tuned out beneath the fuzz of bubbly water rushing
into my ears. As I flapped my arms and legs, struggling to surface, a pair of
enormous objects entered the water and came to a stop on the pool’s bottom, on
either side of me.
I couldn’t
see them through the fruity white fuzz, but sensed her feet walling me in. Her
toes splayed to let the hot water soak into the gaps. Then, warm water pushed
and pulled at me as the feet began to lift and drop in gentle repetitive
motions, and slide back and forth. Caught between them, I was helpless as the
mass of one giant foot pushed me sidelong one way, only for the other giant
foot to push me back again.
“OH,” the
female groaned in appreciation, “IT COMES WITH A COMPLIMENTARY SOAP!”
A big toe
like a humungous boxing glove walloped into my stomach and held there. My mouth
opened in surprise, and quickly filled with a rush of warm, oily and horribly
bitter water that poured into my stomach. As I suppressed the urge to vomit,
another firm object like a probe came in against my spine. It was the woman’s
second toe, and together with her big toe, had my torso secured as if in tongs.
“WHERE’S
THE TINY TOYBOY?” the dancer said.
“OH,”
replied Anya, somewhat disinterestedly, “PAX GAVE HIM A BATH EARLIER, SO HE’S
PROBABLY IN MY BAG SLEEPING.”
“OH, HOW SWEET!
YOU’LL LET ME TAKE A LITTLE PEEK, RIGHT?”
“NO, COME
ON, DON’T TOUCH. IF HE WAKES UP I’VE GOT TO GIVE HIM HIS SPECIAL MEDICINE TO GET
HIM SETTLED AGAIN.”
This put
the issue to rest.
As the toes
came together, the compression placed on my stomach pushed the water out. But
the compression continued to increase like a bad cramp, until my oily body
slipped out and dropped to the bottom of the pool.
The foot
swiftly chased me down to pluck my waist up once more. As my head broke the
water and became mired in the sea of foam, I let out a grunt, which was cancelled
out by the low muttering sounds playing through the bus lounge, like an
audience in a movie theater, but from the corner; an oversized TV with big
speakers.
Glasses and
bowls jingled as the women enjoyed some light drinks and food. Over the sound
of their bubbly, excited voices, the TV, and food and drink sounds, I had no
way of being heard. Now, as the women settled in to a movie on the TV, Anya
adjusted the bus’s interior lighting. It came in bright pinpricks through the
foam, but quickly dimmed to near darkness, decreasing my already slim chance of being spotted to virtually zero.
Firm
bunches of tendon muscle arched and contracted against my soft, pliable body as
the dancer stretched her toes and arched her feet, working the muscles. I was
still held between her first two toes like a crumb between chopsticks, and my
middle was starting to ache from the continued pressure. I inwardly despaired
every second being caught between her toes and lost beneath the froth. She
applied even more pressure, bending my waist even narrower, until I popped
loose again and sunk to the pool floor . This time I ended up on the pool
bottom directly beneath one of her lifted soles, which lowered until it had me
gently sandwiched beneath. Without pause, the foot began to roll me back and
forth, rapidly flipping me one way, until I touched the wiggling bulbs of her
toes, before reversing me until I touched her smoothed, rounded heel. These
high speed, dizzying revolutions carried on for a long time, before I was
passed sideways to the other foot to repeat the exercise all over again.
Only then,
the dancer focused on cleaning the top length of her feet. The toes curled
around my back and gripped my sides, manoeuvring me sidelong into a handy grip
under the toes, packed against the firm ball of the foot. Without warning, I
was pistoning up and down the top of the opposite foot, from ankle to toe. Every
time I reached the end of the foot, I spent a brief moment being delicately
grinded around the toenails, to clean them. My lungs began to scream for air.
Another
minute and it was over. I pushed my head through the foam and sucked the air
desperately.
Then the
opposite foot curled around my back, I flipped sideways and was once again
being ironed up and down the other foot, and again, paused for my soft flesh to
be worked around the hard toenail plates. Every inch of my body was utilized to
wipe and buff the nails.
The toes
finally uncurled, and I dropped back into the water. She began to rub her feet
together with powerful motions that swished me to and fro in the water, past
her feet, between them, even tumbling around beneath them. A wall of toes
impatiently swatted me out of the way for the time being, keeping me to the
side of the pool, while she rubbed and scratched her feet.
Gasping for
air, I grabbed for the pool edge and lifted my head out of the water to take a
breath. The foam tickled my lungs and I batted it out of the way.
“LAST STOP:
LOS RIVERA!” Anya cheered, as a huge toe inadvertently bopped my head, pushing
me below the water again. Her voice dissolved under a rush of thick water noise
as I was stirred around back and forth underwater by the dancer’s constantly relocating
feet, before eventually being swatted to the side of the pool again, where I
surfaced, nearly gagging on bitter water.
It was as
if someone wrapped their arms around my waist and lifted me off the ground. Out
of nowhere, the dreaded pressure collected me once more, easily turning my head
downwards to dive under the water.
Shifting
objects batted my head as it was slipped into a gap of flesh and worked in and
out at speed. She had inserted my face between each toe space to vigorously
scrub back and forth like a toothbrush, rubbing away all the dead and loose
skin, toejam and grit stuck between her toes.
She lifted
one foot and wiggled her toes to flick bubbles away, and I caught glimpses of
big shiny toenails glinting in and out of my face with invasive proximity. I
was flipped repeatedly with the dextrous shuffling of her toes, sideways, then
upside down. The ridged prints of numerous toes slid back and forth over my
torso, throat, and butt. An investigative toe slid down my stomach, tracing the
scarline with the tip of a toenail until I began to shiver. I felt like someone in a new relationship,
having all the distinguishing features of my body explored and committed to
memory.
My head was
clapped gently between two big toes, and held there while a big toe poked
around my penis with interest, and attempted to grind it in and out of each of
the eight toe spaces, confusing my penis for a molded extension of soap, stretching
it back and forth between the tight slot between every single wiggling toe. Once
my dick had flossed each toe, it was sent back around the circuit for round
two. With each insertion, the soft, bulbed end of a giant toe gave my belly an
accidental prod, and its nail tapped my abs.
As each toe
space grew narrower, the pressure increased, until it was the pinky toe space
forcing itself, with a determined screwing motion, to clasp tight around my
shaft. This repeated screwing went around and around my girth until I was
brought to the very edge of a knockout climax, teased a little further, and
surrendered my load to her squirming toes.
Each time I
thought I’d exhausted myself, she wriggled her toes in the water to clear the
fluid, before patiently working on me once more. Except not once, but
compelling my balls to empty again and again.
By the time
the movie ended, my muscles were trembling with exhaustion, and sore all over. My
spent dick was like a numbed, floppy noodle.
The dancer
gracefully lifted her feet out of the now cool water, dried them off, and left
the bus. I climbed out of the pool and, too tired to complain, sprinted back to Anya's duffel and crawled into the mesh pocket to dry off.