Part 10
Ryan was soaked... first in front-vaginal juices, then in rear-vaginal juices, and finally in urine. Oxytocin had pickled his body. He couldn't think of anything but worshipping Sherry and making her his Mistress. Sherry knew what she was about to do would be emotionally difficult. But she had to do it to save Ryan's career.

She grabbed a squirt bottle and filled it with water. Then she squirted the semiconscious Ryan several times, until the athlete shook his head like a wet dog and looked up at the MILF above him, still as naked by choice as he was required to be. "Hey, Sherry, what's going on," he asked.
"I have something that I don't want to tell you, but I have to," Sherry sighed.

"I know that my passion has reached deep inside you, just as you have been inside me. I know that being surrounded by the softness of my body and the wetness of my deepest places and my heartbeat and the pounding of my vagina has imprinted upon you. Know that you have touched my heart so deeply. I know that I love you and you love me. But we both know that you are bound to someone else by contract.

"I promise you that if your bond to your Mistress Jessica ends, and I am still here, and you want to be with me, I will welcome you back into my body.

"But even if that opportunity comes, you might not want to seize it. I hope that is because you have found love with your mistress. If there is anything I've tried to teach you, beyond the ability to please a woman who possesses you, it is that even though you didn't choose your mistress based on love, you DID make a choice... and you can choose to love that choice."

"I made that choice before I met you," Ryan responded.

"And you chose to lose your heart to me before you really got to know your mistress Jessica. How do you know you won't fall for her even harder than you did for me? Or, how do you know your relationship won't grow into love?"

Ryan went to his knees. "Why can't I be with the one I love?"

"Ryan, do you know how many women asked themselves that question over the centuries? They were forced to make practical choices for their partners because of the power of men. Now, men are in that boat. It sucks for you and believe me, it sucks for me. I plunged in to this to keep my promise to myself and I conveniently forgot about the promise you made to your mistress Jessica. I would be in tears if I hadn't already gone through losing a husband and regrets over not connecting with hundreds of tiny male lovers. I survived those things, Ryan, and so will you.
"As long as you understand things," Sherry smiled, "you may, on our last day of training, do whatever you wish with my body."

Ryan revisited every orifice and many places on Sherry's body. He spent a great deal of time curled up on her mature belly, between her soft breasts, and between her ass cheeks. He ended up curled up in her back vagina, thinking about transcendence of his own insignificance, immersed in the flesh and emotions of Sherry.

----
The day came. Media crews lined up outside Sherry's house. Training camp would end with Ryan taking on the tattoo of the name he would carry for his entire pro career, and in a celebrity sense, for the rest of his life. He paced around on a tray until a towering young woman in a business microskirt motioned for him to stand on the X. He was eye level with her womanhood, and could tell by the aroma that she was aroused; all of the women on the production team's womanly odors were at their most powerful, their bare loins gushing away at the mere sight of him.

But unlike the pro athletes of old, Ryan couldn't legally take any of the towering ladies up on their obvious desire for him. As Sherry had reminded him, he was for the next few years bound to his Mistress Jessica, in a contract tighter than a marriage, to serve as the quarterback of her Toy Force.

"The day is here!" exclaimed TV reporter Megan Payne, the woman whose moistening crotch filled Ryan's nostrils. She wore the modern equivalent of a mullet: business suit from the waist up, microskirt exposing her bare buttocks, thighs, and everything else from the waist down. "Ryan Quimby Pelletierri will select his pro name, all lower case, have it and its accompanying symbol tattooed on his body, and as long as he is under contract, that is what he will be known as... Ryan's name will be obliterated from his mind and he will answer to it and it alone! " She grabbed a long pointer and aimed a small, lavalier-sized mic designed to pick up men's high voices at Ryan's face. "So as we say your name for the last time, Ryan, what will your new name be?"

Ryan cleared his throat, and answered directly. "Hummingbird", he said.

At that instant, a light shone down into his eyes. When it was done, he couldn't access the name Ryan Quimby Pelletierri. As far as he knew, he had been hummingbird from the day he was born. A woman picked up him and placed him face down on a tray, where a man -- naked like all others -- pointed to where the tattoo should go. A woman using a magnifier and a surgical instrument began to make the very tiny tattoo of the outline of a hummingbird and the name on his back. Beneath, on his buttocks, were tattooed the words "PROPERTY" on the left cheek, and "OF JESSICA" on the right.

After the TV shot was over, he saw Sherry standing over him. She turned around and leaned her ass in his direction, as though she was sneaking a farewell. Ryan kissed each of her monumental cheeks once, and let himself cry for the first time since his name had been changed.

His agent, Martha, then scooped him up into her purse. "All right, hummingbird, time to join your mistress."

Riding in a purse, he thought. Story of my life. In addition to his mother's, there was the school purse, in which a trustworthy woman would scoop him and his classmates up, with a man on board to serve as chaperone. The man was allowed to wear clothing, which was not permitted if only adult women were present. There was the purse he rode to sports practice. There was the purse that carried him onto an airplane and off to college. Each one seemed to embody the women who carried them, and hummingbird felt that even if he hadn't made love to any of those women, he had experienced a kind of intimacy with them.

Now he was dealing with the heartbreak of losing the greatest intimacy of his young life, and wondering what he would discover in service of the wealthy woman who now possessed him.