Call Me Auntie

The sheer size of the enormous arsecheeks bared directly in Stacey’s face – along with the overpowering scent of sweat and pussy juice, in which her face was already slathered – shocked her into self-awareness.

The dazed girl stared in confusion at her small, pale hands, pressed flat against that vast expanse of dark flesh. Those buttocks were so massive that the petite girl might have struggled to lift even one of them. A sheen of sweat glistened along their wide, smooth curvature.

It was the biggest arse that Stacey had ever seen. And here she was, down on her knees, ready to… ready to…

Desperately, the girl tried to understand what the hell she was doing. She thought back over the past two days, trying to make sense of the events that had led her here…

—–

1.

—–

“You’re going to love my Auntie!” exclaimed Jess, beaming at Stacey as the two girls ascended the steps to the front door.

The tight natural, curls of Jess’s hair bounced a little as she walked up the steps. She was in any case taller than Stacey and, with the afro, she seemed a little taller still. Then again, at 5’3″, Stacey was shorter than most. She had a slim build, pale, milky skin, round, perky breasts and rather full cheeks that lent her face a quality of innocence and harmlessness. This quality was enhanced by her wide, hazel eyes and the expression that she typically wore, which looked like she was lost and perpetually working up the nerve to ask for directions. She wore her black hair in a single thick braid which snaked halfway down her back.

Today, Stacey was particularly nervous. Jess was the first real friend she’d made since moving to London from the countryside last year. Even then, this was the first time that Jess had invited her anywhere outside of school. She was eager to make a good impression.

The girls had both finished their last A-level exams a couple of days ago. Now they had two useless weeks left of their final school term, a brief period of limbo before the rest of their lives could begin.

Jess produced a key and opened the door. Stacey followed her friend inside.

The first thing that Stacey noticed upon entering the house was the powerful smell of food that filled the air. Stacey was hungry, and the food smelled delicious. It was also very warm inside the house, as it was outside, due to the current heatwave.

Jess led Stacey through a door off the narrow hallway, opposite the staircase on their right. They emerged into a relatively spacious combined living room and dining room. The living area, with sofa, coffee table and television, was directly ahead of them. Off to their right was a fairly long dining table, surrounded by chairs and laden with food. Standing in front of the table, smiling warmly at them, was an enormous woman.

The woman was around six feet tall, with a very wide frame and an extremely full figure. She wore a colourful, low-cut top which was stretched tight over her huge breasts and wide, fat belly. The exposed skin of her breasts was dark and smooth, curving down into a deep line of cleavage. Over her legs she wore a dark green sarong, which partially exposed, at one side, one of her thick, round thighs. From the slight angle at which they were standing, Stacey saw that her arse, even more so than the rest of her body, was huge, fat and curvaceous. The sarong draped like a rag across the heft of her massive buttocks only made their vast proportions more apparent. Below the sarong, the woman wore bare feet.

On her head was a colourful head wrap, from which a thick mane of ringlets spilled out and down to her shoulders. Her big, dark eyes were fierce and perceptive, and her full lips were drawn into a wide grin, exposing a gap between her front teeth. She looked to be in her late thirties, but Stacey found it hard to tell.

“Hi, Auntie!” said Jess brightly.

“Jess, my gyal, come here!” exclaimed the fat woman, drawing the girl into a tight hug and planting a kiss on her cheek.

Releasing Jess, the woman turned to her guest and said, “And this must be Stacey! Come here, gyal!”

Stacey stepped forward and was wrapped in the same warm embrace that Jess had just received. The fat woman squashed the girl hard against her big breasts and fat belly. Stacey, barely more than shoulder-high to the woman, narrowly avoided getting a faceful of her cleavage. She was momentarily overwhelmed by the woman’s powerful scent, exotic perfume mixed with sweat from the heat of the day.

The big woman gave Stacey a slight push towards the table and said, “Sit down, eat!”

Sitting at the table, Stacey stared amazed at the vast array of food. She recognised jerk chicken, juicy legs and breasts stacked on a long serving platter. Then there were fried dumplings, some sort of pastries, and a load of other stuff which Stacey couldn’t immediately identify.

Stacey was sitting at the corner of the table next to her host, who sat at the head. Jess was sitting the other side of Stacey.

Stacey cautiously began to take a small amount of food. Seeing her hesitation, the big woman grabbed her plate, saying, “That won’t do – let’s see you get a proper portion!”

The woman quickly returned the plate, piled high with a wide selection from the table. I’ll never manage all that, Stacey thought.

Then the woman sat there beaming at Stacey until the girl began to eat. Though she started slow, the food was so delicious that she couldn’t help but speed up. Soon she was wolfing it down as if she hadn’t eaten in days.

While she was eating, the big woman started to talk to her. She began by telling Stacey about the food she was eating. The way she talked about it made it seem even more delicious. She talked about growing up in Jamaica, life in west London, and touched on a range of other topics: music, art, even sex. As she talked, she maintained intense eye contact with Stacey, who, aside from the occasional glance down at her plate, stared back at her wide-eyed.

Stacey was utterly charmed by the big woman, even in awe of her. Before long, the girl was hanging on her every word.

Occasionally the woman broke off from her monologue to ask Stacey a question. The girl told her that she’d moved here a little under a year ago from Dorset, just before the start of the final school year and a few months before her eighteenth birthday. She lived with her dad, who at the moment was away on business and would be back in a few weeks. Her mother had left them when she was an infant.

Jess, meanwhile, sat silently watching the other two, while picking at a small portion of food.

Stacey took advantage of a slight pause to blurt out, “The food is incredible, Mrs, Ms… um…” The girl reddened slightly as she realised she didn’t know her host’s name.

“Jus call me ‘Auntie’ as well,” smiled the fat woman. “I’d like that.”

Though the suggestion was a little odd, Stacey felt flattered, even grateful, to be welcomed on such intimate terms. She giggled nervously and said, “Okay, Auntie.”

Then Stacey realised with a start that she had more or less demolished the entire, massive plateful. She suddenly felt completely stuffed, tired, even a little dizzy. She leaned back in her chair, red-faced and breathing heavily.

The big woman let out a throaty chuckle. “You look fit to collapse!” she exclaimed. She stood up, the chair creaking as she did so, and moved round behind Stacey. She lifted the girl by the arm and said, “Come over here. Let Auntie tek care of yuh.”

The woman led Stacey over to the sofa, manoeuvred her around the arm and pulled her down onto the seat, while she remained standing behind it. Leaning down behind Stacey, she gently took hold of the girl’s shoulders and spoke softly in her ear: “Now, my gyal, lean your head back and jus relax… that’s it. Don’t close your eyes – jus stare at the ceiling fah mi. You’re not allowed to sleep yet – mi waan fi tell you a few more tings first. Breathe deep, relax, an jus listen to my voice. You enjoy listening to me, don’t yuh?”

Stacey’s seated form was already completely limp and her eyes were a little unfocused. Without thinking, she replied, “Yes, Auntie.”

“Good gyal,” cooed the fat woman happily. “Den jus relax an listen to Auntie…”

Stacey zoned out and let the fat woman’s words wash over her. Above her, the blurry ceiling slowly began to rotate. Stacey watched it with passive detachment. Soon, she felt more relaxed than she could ever have thought possible.

The girl felt so glad she had come here. She could listen to Auntie’s soothing, charming voice all day. The ceiling went slowly round and round, and Auntie’s words went on, and on, and on.

Stacey knew Auntie was telling her something important. The girl felt so utterly charmed by the big woman, so overwhelmed by sudden affection, that she knew she would gladly follow any suggestion that Auntie gave her. It didn’t matter what it was. And this really was just a little suggestion. It was no big deal. It was something that Stacey wanted to do anyway. Auntie was really just clarifying Stacey’s own feelings for her. If anything, the big woman was doing the girl a favour…

A broad, dopey grin spread across Stacey’s face. She heard herself simper, “Yes, Auntie.”

Now Stacey’s body felt like melted butter. Her head felt like melted butter. In fact she could just melt… melt… melt…

Stacey came to with a start. She was lying down on her side, in dim light, her head resting on something soft, warm and comfortable. A big, black, bare thigh… Auntie’s thigh. The material of the sarong, which still covered the fat woman’s other leg, lay crumpled either side of it. Something warm and heavy rested on Stacey’s face and neck… Auntie’s open palm, she realised. Under her own fingers, which rested also on that bare thigh, directly below her mouth, Stacey felt a puddle of wetness. I was drooling, she realised… quite a lot.

The girl stirred and tried to say something, but instead let out a soft whimper. The fat woman chuckled and softly patted the girl’s cheek, then removed her hand. She said, “Slept long enough, have yuh?”

The girl sat up and looked around. The sky outside was dark. The dim light coming through the open curtains came mostly from streetlamps.

Stacey was mortified. She jumped up and bleated, “S- sorry, sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep, I… uh…”

The big woman heaved herself up off the sofa, took Stacey by the shoulders and said, “My gyal, don’t worry at all. Mi wanted yuh to sleep, so mi let yuh.”

Then she lifted one hand to the side of Stacey’s face and gently stroked the girl’s cheek with her thumb. “Now mi let yuh go home, but I want you to do someting for me. You will come back tomorrow at noon. That will make me very happy. And you want to mek Auntie happy – don’t yuh?”

Upon hearing these words, Stacey gasped and stiffened. Her head span, her mouth went dry, her skin tingled all over and she felt a dull ache between her legs. She gulped and whimpered, “Yes, Auntie.”

The fat woman smiled and said, “Good gyal.” Stacey gasped again as an electric thrill fizzed down her spine and the aching between her legs intensified.

“Now,” said the fat woman, “gwan wit yuh.” She gave Stacey a little push towards the door.

Stacey walked away slowly, her legs shaking as she went.

—–

2.

—–

The next day, at a few minutes past twelve, Stacey found herself sitting once more on Auntie’s sofa. The big woman was sitting next to her, very close, smiling down at her. It was another hot day, with the weather set to continue like this for another week or so.

“Thank you so, so much for inviting me yesterday!” Stacey blurted out suddenly. “And thank you so much for the food, it was amazing!” she gushed in an obsequious tone. “And thank you for… you know… taking care of me.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, baby,” grinned the fat woman. “You’re a good gyal.”

Stacey shivered and let out a soft, curtailed whimper.

“And since you’re such a good gyal,” the fat woman continued, “now you’re going to do someting fah mi.”

Stacey felt so stupid. Of course, she should have offered to help Auntie with something already! She felt like a selfish, ungrateful bitch. “Yes, Auntie, of course! What should I do?” the girl asked earnestly.

The big woman waved her hand in a vague, sweeping gesture, and said, “I’ve not got round to cleaning this place in a while. You’re going to do it for me.”

Despite her initial enthusiasm, Stacey was taken aback. That seemed like a huge imposition, and – if she was expected to do it for free – also kind of… demeaning? The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint Auntie, but…

“I… uh… really?” she stammered, gazing up nervously into Auntie’s big, dark eyes. “Like… the whole house?”

The big woman’s eyes glittered and her expression hardened just a little, though her broad grin remained. “My gyal,” she began, speaking slowly and carefully, “you are going to do this for me. You will do this because it will mek Auntie very happy. And I know you want to mek Auntie happy. I know you want to be a good gyal fah Auntie.”

Stacey’s head felt like it was filled with helium. Her limbs felt heavy and wooden, though her skin prickled with static. Her lips, moving of their own accord, drawled, “Yes, Auntie.”

“Good gyal,” intoned the fat woman gently. “It mek Auntie happy when you do as yuh told.”

Now Stacey’s mouth was open, her cheeks burned and she panted breathlessly. She felt a hot slickness between her legs.

The girl listened passively as Auntie told her where to find cleaning supplies and where to start. Then, at the big woman’s command, she stood up and dutifully set about her task.

Diligently and methodically, the girl worked her way around the house. She started upstairs, cleaning every room thoroughly, slowly making her way back down to the ground floor. The whole time she was cleaning, she thought excitedly about how happy it would make Auntie. She was unable to think about anything else.

Then she worked her way around the ground floor, coming at last back to the living room. She hovered diffidently by the door for a moment, then stepped through. She walked over to the sofa, where the fat woman whose house she was cleaning lounged eating a big box of chocolates. The girl clasped her hands at the small of her back, stared down at the carpet and said, “May I clean in here now, Auntie?”

The smug response came: “Yes you may, baby.” Stacey’s whole body tingled when she heard how pleased the fat woman sounded.

“Thank you, Auntie,” the girl simpered, in an even more obsequious tone. She really was grateful to Auntie for letting her do this for her, especially after Stacey’s earlier insolence.

As Stacey started to clean the living room, the big woman suddenly said, “You must be getting hot from the hard work, baby. You’ll be more comfortable if yuh tek your top off.”

Stacey froze. She wanted to do as she was told, but a warning light of reticence flashed dimly in the back of her mind. She remained frozen and said, “Um…”

“Don’t be shy, baby,” the fat woman chided. “You want to be a good gyal fah Auntie, don’t you?”

“Yes, Auntie,” replied the girl, hurriedly pulling off her top. “Sorry, Auntie.”

“Silly gyal,” chuckled the fat woman. “Now the skirt as well.”

Stacey, this time without hesitation, removed her skirt. She stood there in nothing but a blue lingerie bra and matching thong, her young, slim body almost fully exposed, awaiting the fat woman’s next instruction.

“Good gyal,” the fat woman cooed. “Now get back to work.”

About ten minutes later, while Stacey was still cleaning the living room, the doorbell rang. Immediately, the sound could be heard of the door opening.

The big woman stood up from the sofa, took something from a jar on the coffee table and walked over to the door out to the hallway. Stacey, who was in the middle of wiping down the dining table, continued what she was doing.

The hallway door opened and Jess stepped into the room. Stacey looked up and said, brightly – as though cleaning some woman’s house in her underwear were the most natural thing in the world – “Oh, hi Jess!”

Jess glanced at her with a mixture of pity and disgust. Turning back to the big woman, she said, “See? Can I pick ’em or what?”

The big woman let out a loud, throaty chuckle. “Dis lickle eediat gyal mek it too easy,” she chortled.

She handed the girl a couple of banknotes. Jess briefly checked the amount, nodded to the big woman, then turned on her heel and walked out. Without looking back, she sardonically trilled, “So long, Stace!”

Stacey, once again immersed in her task, didn’t even hear her.

Before long, Stacey had finished cleaning. She tidied everything away, then returned to the living room and once again stood in front of the sofa with her head bowed demurely. This time though, she couldn’t help but raise her eyes to peer shyly at the fat woman from under her lashes. She said, in a sweet, little voice, “All done, Auntie.”

“Good gyal,” pronounced the fat woman, beaming at her. “What a good, lickle gyal fah Auntie.”

Upon receiving this praise, the girl’s mouth fell open and a loud whimper rose from her throat. Her legs wobbled visibly.

“Please, Auntie!” she exclaimed suddenly, in a loud moan, “please let me do something else for you! Please, Auntie, please… please tell me what to do!”

The fat woman laughed loudly, amused by the girl’s desperation.

“Alright, baby, since yuh aks nicely – first, get down pon yuh knees.”

Stacey did so at once.

“Good gyal. Now – come here and give Auntie a foot rub,” said the fat woman, wiggling her bare toes.

Without even thinking about it, Stacey crawled over to the seated woman’s feet and did as she’d been told. Leaning back in her seat, the fat woman smirked down at the obedient girl. The girl stared back, her eyes wide and unfocused and her mouth open a little.

After some time, the woman said, “Dat’s good, baby. But mi feet need a lickle more love dan dat. Get right down deh an kiss dem.”

Stacey paused for a beat, before her pliant, little mind absorbed this new command. Then she said, in toneless drawl, “Yes, Auntie.” She placed her palms flat on the floor, her head sank down, and she began gently to kiss the fat woman’s sweaty feet.

“Good gyal. Now mi waan yuh clean dem wid yuh tongue.”

The girl whimpered and began at once to lick the fat woman’s feet all over, even lifting them to lick the soles and suck on her toes.

After some time, the fat woman grunted with satisfaction and said, “It mek Auntie very happy to see yuh down deh pon yuh knees like dat. But now mi tell yuh how fi mek me even happier…”

The girl squealed and sprang back upright on her knees, gazing up pleadingly into the big woman’s eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, the fat woman unfastened her sarong and spread her massive thighs wide apart. Surrounded by a black bush of tight, stiff curls, her thick, dark pussy lips were already dripping with juice. Stacey knelt there staring at that fat cunt, her heart pounding in her chest.

Lifting her belly out of the way with one hand, with the other the fat woman tapped her engorged clit and said, “Come on, baby. Come mek Auntie happy.”

Slowly and inexorably, as though in a dream, the girl crawled forward, fixating on the fat woman’s sopping cunt.

When she was right up between the fat woman’s huge thighs, she raised her head and extended her tongue. With her free hand the fat woman cupped the back of the girl’s head, grasping the base of the girl’s thick braid between her thumb and the side of her palm. Then she casually pulled the girl’s head in. As she did so she slid her other hand away, so that the weight of her belly rested on the girl’s forehead. She brought this hand down under the other to grasp the back of the girl’s neck.

Stacey slurped at the fat woman’s cunt with abandon, eagerly doing all she could to please her. The loud moans from above spurred the girl on, while she let out a continuous stream of muffled squeals. The taste and smell of the woman’s lust were overpowering. Stacey gladly swallowed those juices and drenched her face in them, because she knew that it would make Auntie happy.

Eventually, the fat woman began to thrust rhythmically against Stacey’s face. She pulled the girl’s head in harder and her moaning grew louder. Then she came in a wild torrent that drenched the girl’s face even more thoroughly, dribbling off her chin and down into her cleavage.

The fat woman pulled the girl’s face away from her cunt just a little, pressing her head against her huge inner thigh while she caught her breath.

When she was ready, the fat woman pulled the girl’s head back far enough that she could make eye contact with her over her breasts and belly. She smirked down at her with amused condescension and purred, “Mmmm, now that’s a good lickle gyal fah Auntie. You really will do anyting I say, won’t yuh?”

Stacey, her head spinning, her mind blank, her whole body throbbing and aching with the pleasure of pleasing Auntie – with the fat woman’s juices still dripping from her face – droned, “Yes, Auntie.”

“Good gyal. Now mi waan yuh do one more ting fah mi.”

The fat woman stood up, turned around and knelt up on the sofa seat, with her knees splayed far apart. Her vast, weighty, bare buttocks dominated the girl’s field of vision.

“Now be a good gyal,” commanded the fat woman, giving her hips a little shake, “and kiss Auntie’s backside.”

Still in depths of her blissful, suggestible daze, Stacey again droned, “Yes, Auntie.”

The girl crawled forward, placed her hands on the woman’s fat arse, and…

…and now Stacey sort of understood. Dimly, though her head was still spinning, she saw how Auntie was manipulating her. She realised the extent to which the older woman had gotten inside her head.

Okay, but… she still had a choice, didn’t she? She could just get up and walk away… get up and walk away… get up and walk away…

“Come on, baby, don’t think. Jus relax an do as yuh told. You want to be good gyal fah mi, don’t yuh?”

The fat woman intoned these words like an incantation that made the girl’s pussy throb and ache and sent juice trickling down her thigh. That light-headed, heavy-limbed feeling was returning.

get up and wa… get up… get… get… guh… guh guh… guuuh…

“You don’t want to think. Yuh jus waan fi do what Auntie tell you. You don’t need to mek decisions. Jus relax an let Auntie decide tings fah yuh. All you want to do is mek Auntie happy. All you need to do is mek Auntie happy. Jus let go, an live fi mek Auntie happy. Nuttin else matters anymore…”

The girl felt herself drowning in the big woman’s voice. But she no longer cared. Auntie was right – she did want this. She wanted it more than anything…

“Now, my gyal – come forward, an kiss Auntie’s backside.”

The girl was lost in a haze of docile bliss. All she could see was Auntie’s massive backside in front of her. All she could hear was the sound of Auntie’s voice. And, above all else, she knew what she needed to do to make Auntie happy.

The girl heard a toneless voice from somewhere slur out the words: “Yes, Auntie.”

Next thing the girl knew, she was repeatedly sliding her outstretched tongue in long deep strokes up the fat woman’s arsecrack, licking her arsehole with each stroke, and whimpering as she did so.

The ripe taste of the fat woman’s arsecrack filled Stacey’s mouth and the smell of it filled the girl’s nostrils. Deep in Stacey’s dazed mind, that taste became jumbled up with the praise that the fat woman was now heaping upon her. That taste meant making Auntie happy. That taste meant she was being a good girl.

Then the fat woman gave a command that the girl, though she did not register it consciously, automatically obeyed. She heaved Auntie’s huge buttocks further apart and pressed her face deep in between them. She shoved her tongue deep into Auntie’s arsehole and squirmed it around, desperate to provide as much stimulation as possible.

An oddly detached thought drifted across the girl’s blank mind: how is it that I feel so at home down here?

—–

3.

—–

Walking up the steps to Auntie’s front door in the bright morning sunshine, Stacey rubbed her eyes. She had barely slept at all last night. Instead she had spent the entire night obsessively picturing Auntie’s eyes, Auntie’s lips, Auntie’s big body towering over her, and hearing Auntie’s voice echoing in her head. The girl had spent hours touching herself while thinking about being down on her knees and using her tongue to make Auntie happy. Several times she had tried to stop herself, only to find herself at it again a few minutes later.

The girl rang the doorbell and waited.

After about a minute or so, the door slowly opened.

Even before she could see the big woman behind the door, Stacey’s knees began to quiver and her heart pounded in her chest. When she actually saw Auntie standing in front of her again, it was all the girl could do to remain standing. She felt a hot, wet throbbing between her legs.

Today the fat woman was wearing a red and white patterned dress – again very low-cut – strappy sandals, a dark red head wrap and some gold jewellery. She was carrying a brown leather handbag.

“Come in, baby,” said the fat woman, stepping slightly to one side, half behind the open door.

Stacey did as she was told. She had to squeeze past the fat woman to get inside. As soon as she was in, the fat woman swung the door closed behind her. She grabbed the girl’s braid and shoved her bodily, face-first, against the wall, pressing the side of her face against it and keeping her pinned there using her elbow, along with her breasts and belly. With her free hand she reached down between the girl’s legs, up her skirt, and started rubbing her through her wet panties.

Stacey almost went cross-eyed. Her lips formed themselves into a wide ‘O’. She opened her legs wider, whimpered loudly and pressed her palms flat against the wall.

The fat woman leaned in and spoke softly in the girl’s ear. “I’m going out now. There’s a list of chores on the coffee table. If yuh finish dem all before mi come back, yuh mek Auntie very happy.”

With that she released Stacey, stepped casually towards the door and left.

Stacey, bracing herself against the wall and gasping for breath, stumbled into the living room and fell onto the sofa. Pausing only for a moment, she picked up the list of chores from the table in front of her and studied it.

It was an A4 sheet of paper, one side of which was completely filled with tasks, plus some bits and pieces of information needed to complete them.

It began with doing laundry, folding other, already dry laundry, changing bedsheets and handwashing delicates. It then included things like washing dishes and buying groceries (Auntie had left a note on where to find a spare key but not where to find money). It also included a significant amount of garden work. The back garden, which Stacey had seen yesterday while cleaning, was small but, at the moment, quite uncared for.

For a moment, Stacey felt a twinge of indignance. Then she thought about how happy her doing all this would make Auntie. She moaned softly, stood up and set to work.

Stacey worked like a dog, all day, in the roasting heat, puffing and sweating. Like yesterday, she could think of nothing but how much this would please Auntie. Her head felt like it was filled with static – pleasing Auntie was the only thing that stayed in focus.

After a few hours, Stacey felt so hot that she again stripped down to her underwear. Again it was lingerie, this time black and lacy, again with a thong. She laid her clothes on the arm of the sofa and immediately carried on working.

By the time the girl had completed every task, it was early evening. She felt weak and dizzy, both with the heat and with arousal from thinking about Auntie.

She no longer felt able to stand, so she sank to her hands and knees. Then, desperately waiting for Auntie to return, she crawled out into the hallway.

About six feet from the door, she knelt up and pictured Auntie coming back to find that Stacey had done everything the fat woman had told her to do. Unconsciously, her hand drifted to her clit and she started to rub.

After what might have been ten seconds or an hour, the door opened and in walked Auntie. She closed the door behind her. She showed no surprise at finding the girl kneeling by the door and masturbating – she just stared down at her imperiously.

“Have yuh finished all yuh chores?” she inquired.

“Yes, Auntie,” drooled the helpless, spaced out girl.

The fat woman smiled. “Good gyal,” she purred, drawing a loud moan from Stacey.

“Now yuh get tuh do someting else fah mi,” said the big woman. Then she turned around and hiked up her skirt. She spread her legs and leaned forward a little. Her enormous, fat arse filled almost the entire breadth of the narrow corridor.

“You know what a good gyal should do to mek Auntie happy,” she said.

Stacey, drooling and whimpering, crawled forward.

When Stacey’s face was inserted deep between her buttocks, the fat woman dropped her skirt and pressed her hands against the door. She slowly moved her massive hindquarters up and down, grinding her arsehole against the girl’s outstretched tongue.

The fat woman had been walking around in the heat for much of the day, and the taste of her sweat was overpowering. To Stacey it was the greatest taste in world, because it tasted of Auntie’s pleasure. She knew that pleasing Auntie was all that mattered, and she was so, so grateful for the chance to do it.

After about twenty minutes, when the girl had given the fat woman’s arse a thorough tongue-bathing, Auntie lifted her skirt again and, with her hips, shoved Stacey back onto her heels. The big woman stood up fully and turned around.

Stacey sat on her heels and stared straight ahead, eyes completely unfocused. She was panting heavily with her tongue still outstretched, still drooling.

From her handbag, the fat woman produced a thick, black leather collar with a matching leash clipped to it. She fastened the collar around the kneeling girl’s neck. The girl didn’t move or resist. Her only reaction was a single, soft moan.

Grasping the leash firmly in her right hand, the fat woman stepped around the girl and led her towards the living room. The girl crawled right behind her, staring up at Auntie’s huge, fat arse swaying back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

The next thing Stacey knew she was lying on her back on the living room carpet, the fat woman kneeling over her face. Yes, Auntie – thought the girl dazedly – please use me more, please, please, please, Auntie…

Then, suddenly, the fat woman sat down, burying her eager victim under a mountain of hot, wet flesh. The girl’s loud moans of ecstasy were so muffled that they were almost inaudible. As the girl’s lithe tongue did its job, the fat woman grunted with satisfaction.

Occasionally the fat woman let the girl breathe – the girl was grateful when she did.

The fat woman used her new pet like this for over an hour, cumming four times. After the fourth time, she yawned, stretched and stood up. By now it was dark outside. She tugged at the girl’s leash and said, “Heel.”

The docile girl once again crawled after her mistress, staring up at her magnificent, swaying backside. Her mind was utterly blank.

The fat woman led her pet upstairs and they went to bed. The girl slept curled up at the end of the bed, under the thin sheet employed as a cover, with her head right by the fat woman’s sweaty feet.

—–

4.

—–

The next morning, Stacey was woken by something tugging at her neck. Without even fully waking up she crawled automatically in the direction she was pulled, her tongue already out.

The fat woman was lying on her back with the sheet pulled up to her neck. Following her lazy, drowsy commands, Stacey proceeded to bathe Auntie’s voluptuous, sweat-soaked body with her tongue. The girl sucked on the fat woman’s nipples, sniffed and licked her cleavage, licked under her breasts, licked and kissed her belly, her hips, her thighs and then…

Over the next forty minutes, the girl made her fat mistress cum three times.

Then Auntie rolled over. Stacey squealed with delight as she again pressed her eager, little face between those fat buttocks. When she tasted that good-girl taste again, and heard Auntie’s praise, the girl almost came herself.

After a good hour, the fat woman knelt up. Stacey kept right on licking, until her mistress used the leash to manoeuvre her round in front of her. The fat woman faced Stacey away from her, face down, arse up, legs spread. She then proceeded to deftly finger-fuck the girl. Stacey screamed in unbridled ecstasy. After little more than a minute, she exploded in a violent, squirting, convulsing orgasm.

The spent girl flopped over onto her side and lay there, gasping and seeing spots. The fat woman unclipped her leash, smacked her arse with such force that the mattress bounced, and then ordered her to go make breakfast and bring it up to her.

Stacey obeyed without hesitation. When she tried to stand up, her knees immediately buckled and gave way. So, on her hands and knees like the bitch she evidently was, the girl crawled out of the room.

Stacey was grateful for the taste of the fat woman’s arse in her mouth, which remained while she was making breakfast. In her mind the girl’s face was still jammed between those huge, sweaty buttocks, her tongue still working to service her mistress.

Over the next few days, the girl was grateful for the chances she was given to worship her mistress’s arse, which came more and more frequently. Of course, she also gladly worshipped other parts of her mistress’s body, not to mention serving her in other ways: Stacey prepared and fetched all the fat woman’s meals, snacks, drinks, did the shopping, did the fat woman’s laundry, cleaned the fat woman’s house, maintained her garden, plus absolutely anything else she might want or need.

But Stacey was always particularly excited when she had the chance to tongue-bathe her mistress’s fat, sweaty backside. She loved everything about it: she loved the taste of it, the feeling of it, she loved kneeling behind her mistress and feeling the pull of the leash at her neck…

Before long, the girl was totally obsessed. Whether or not she was kneeling behind Auntie, Stacey always saw those huge, fat buttocks swaying in front of her. She constantly thought about the taste of Auntie’s sweat-soaked arsecrack, and when she would next get to taste it again. At night, too, she dreamed about it continually.

As time wore on, the girl’s obedience to Auntie became ever more deeply ingrained. She did exactly as she was told without thinking, while in her mind her tongue remained firmly lodged up Auntie’s arsehole. Her eyes were perpetually glazed over. She nearly always had drool on her chin.

The fat woman referred to Stacey as “mi lickle batty-bitch”. She let the eager girl worship her arse multiple times per day, often for over an hour at a time. At night she sometimes slept on her front and let Stacey lie with her face between her buttocks, in such way that the girl could breathe but would inhale the scent of her arse all night. Often the girl would wake up to find herself already licking Auntie’s arsehole. It turned the fat woman on a great deal to use her brainwashed pet in this way. It turned her on knowing how addicted the girl had become to licking her fat arse.

One day, the fat woman was sitting on the sofa with her legs spread. Stacey knelt astride one of the fat woman’s thick thighs, leaning forward with her back arched. Her hands were tied behind her back and there was a bright red ball gag in her mouth. Both the girl and her mistress were fully naked.

Stacey’s head lay on the fat woman’s breast, the girl staring up into her mistress’s big, dark eyes. The fat woman, with one hand, held the girl not, as usual, on a leash but by her braid, which she had twice wrapped around her hand. With her other hand, the fat woman was slowly sliding a girthy, black dildo in and out of the girl’s soaking wet pussy.

As she smirked down at the girl, savouring the dazed and helpless servility in her pet’s eyes, the fat woman calmly explained to the girl exactly what she had done to make Stacey like this.

She explained what Stacey pretty much already knew: that Auntie had plied her with food, made her very relaxed and comfortable, and had then suggested to her that, deep down, what she really wanted more than anything was to make Auntie happy.

She explained that the girl, for her part, had eagerly played along, happily following Auntie’s suggestion and putting up virtually no resistance – like soft putty waiting to be moulded by a firm hand.

She explained that this was the first step in an ongoing process of brainwashing, in which the girl would become ever more addicted to serving her mistress, ever more helplessly obedient, ever more docile and submissive.

“And,” the fat woman finished smugly, “there’s nuttin yuh can do bout it anymore. It’s too late to resist. Your head belong to Auntie now, jus like di rest of yuh. You’ll be Auntie’s lickle batty-bitch, forever.”

Stacey, her face red and her eyes shining, squealed and moaned into the gag. It turned her on to hear how Auntie had manipulated her into giving up her free will. What turned her on even more was the prospect of falling deeper under Auntie’s spell.

————-

Epilogue

————-

Auntie’s vast buttocks were swaying in front of her, her tongue was up Auntie’s arse, Auntie was whispering in her ear what a good girl she was, Auntie was fucking her senseless…

The girl could see, hear, feel, smell and taste all of these things happening, both simultaneously and in quick succession – they were happening to her over and over again, so quickly that they all blended into one…

Other than that, the girl’s mind was utterly blank.

Stacey was lying prone and spread-eagled on top of the duvet on Auntie’s bed. Her head was turned to the side, her cheek pressed against the duvet. Her legs were spread as wide as they would go.

The girl’s eyes were covered by a think blindfold. On her head she wore a pair of noise-cancelling headphones. In her mouth was a bright red ball gag. As always, the black leather collar was around her neck.

Auntie, before she had left, had rubbed the ball gag all around deep in her arse-crack, so that the girl could taste and smell her while she was out.

Stacey’s wrists and ankles were tied to the bed frame with short lengths of rope. She couldn’t move her limbs at all.

The girl had a butt plug shoved up her arse and a vibrating egg – currently switched off – in her pussy. She wore a lingerie thong, the string of which was pulled tight over the base of the butt plug.

Suddenly, without warning, the egg in Stacey’s pussy started to vibrate. The girl’s prone body shook, and she moaned loudly into her gag. She was drooling freely.

Auntie’s friends, crowded round her on the sofa in someone’s living room, laughed raucously when they heard and saw the girl’s reaction through the multiple webcams transmitting a live feed to the fat woman’s phone. Auntie showed them how to remotely control the vibrating egg, then passed the phone round so others could have a turn.

As she handed the phone to the person sitting next to her, the fat woman studied the image of the girl on the screen – jerking, writhing, squealing and moaning. She smirked as she thought about how eagerly the girl had given up her free will, how readily she had let herself become nothing more than a mindless plaything… how easy it had been to turn the naive girl into a brainwashed, docile fucktoy, programmed to worship and obey…

The fat woman felt a growing slickness between her legs. She looked forward to getting home, peeling off her clothes, and sitting on Stacey’s face.