“Your room is your stage, and it’s totally live, which means you don’t have to look directly at them. In fact, you never have to look at them if that makes you feel better. Our cameras are fully automated. So wherever you look, your eyes will be on them. Except when you look down—try not to do that.” She plugs in a round curling iron and continues. “This is a rush job, so don’t worry about setting the stage. We’ve taken care of that. Anytime you negotiate with the guys, it gets them hard.” One pigtail up, she moves to the other. “Good job, by the way.” I smile at her in the mirror.
“Each job is a play, and this one’s called,” her wicked look in the mirror catches my eye, “‘this little piggy goes to market.’” This gets a big laugh—what she was hoping for—and I roll with it. “There, let it out. The nerves will go with it.” Nodding approvingly, she starts in on the long, Cindy Brady curls, wrapping my long locks around the barrel.
“Do what comes naturally, with a lot of sound effects. Throw in an ‘I’m so full, I’m gonna bust!’ or something to that effect. It will drive them absolutely crazy.” She moves to the other pigtail and wraps it. “And remember, as soon as they cum you’re done. Whether it’s fifteen minutes or two hours. Multiple guy orgasms cost extra. Got it?” I do.
“Use the food as a prop.” She rouges big pink circles on my cheeks. “I’m proud of you. I know losing the comfort blanket that is Javi has to be killing you.” Hugging me from behind, she watches my eyes in the mirror. “Showtime!” Out the door she goes, motioning for me to wait.
“And now, you feeders, I give you Blue Belle. Fatten her up nicely for market!”
She heads out, the click of my door signifying my isolation. And that’s just how I want it, I think, as I head out into the room with every corner lit and no shadows to hide in. Because this part, I do alone.
Chapter 26
I take one last deep breath before I strut into the room. The first thing I see is an extra-large black tarp spread across my bed. The edges reach to the ground on either side. There’s a side table, like a hospital tray, snugged up against the side of the bed farthest from me. On it, a middle-schooler’s dream. Everything they’ve asked for. I don’t have to see them to know they’re both leaning forward, faces pressed to the screen, watching my reaction. And I give them one.
Licking my lips, I roll my eyes and rub my stomach seductively, feigning food lust. Sneaking a quick peek around the room, I pretend to make sure no one’s watching me before I kneel on the bed. Thrusting my ass in the air, I crawl across the king-size bed towards the sundries. My pigtails drag on the mat in front of me. The tarp has been tied down. There’s not even a wrinkle as I make my way across it. The whole time I keep my eyes on the food they’ve picked while I purse my lips in what I hope is a hungry expression. Thoughts of strippers, or more specifically, the art of the striptease flash like pictures through my mind.
I’m really doing this! And because that sounds like the condescending type of bullshit my mother always fed me, along with her extra helpings, I stop thinking entirely and just am.
Sara with no H can cower in the bathroom, shaking and pissing herself, dreaming of some happily ever after with Javi, while Blue Belle takes over. This will be her stage, her area of expertise. She is, after all, a product of Sasha and Gretchen’s doing. Some of their inner sexy has to have rubbed off on her. Even Javi. I think the name and drop it to the floor along with the rest of my insecurities. He had a hand in forming this new persona. Infused her with confidence.
I tilt my chin down, eyeing what is now my lunch, and turn to sit on my plump bottom. I lean to the side, exposing an ass cheek to pull at the wedge of fabric that’s found its way into my crack and hear an intake of breath.
She likes that.
I spread my legs open in front, arching my back in a leisurely stretch. This gives them an eyeful of my ample bosom, trussed up in the requested PE bra.
“Are you hungry, little piggy?” Chase speaks to me first. I slowly nod, puffing out my lower lip. Both of my hands rub my tummy with splayed fingers, really exaggerating the rubbing motions between my rolls.
“Pick up the ice cream and get that lid off, bad girl.”
Spying the chocolate picture on the lid as I flip it off, I’m just glad it’s not sherbet. I hate that shit. Placing it between my legs, my inner thighs pinken immediately from the cold. I send out a silent thank you to Sasha for the quart size while I await further instructions.
“Are you ready, little piggy?” It’s her turn, and the words are infused with just the right amount of sass to let me know the answer they’re looking for. An oink—just one, don’t wanna spoil them—lets them know that I am. I will not speak with Sara’s tongue in this sanctuary, only in the language they’ve requested.
“Get on your hands and knees. Don’t you spill a fucking drop of that ice cream.” I do, knowing what’s coming. I sniff at the container making the end of my nose cold. “Now, put your face in that trough and eat.” His voice has taken on an edge of authority, letting me know he’s not to be disobeyed.
Praying that an ice-cream headache is not in my future, I push both pigtails over my shoulders at once, my own sass thrown in for flavor, and lick the cream off of the top. No noise, no sighs, not even sure I’m doing it right. I continue, my tongue growing numb. “Stop fucking around and eat!”
Taken aback, not sure if they’re regretting the money they dropped into my bank now, I go at with abandon. Using only my mouth, I bite a hunk out of it and chew, mindful to look up while I do it. Sucking the oversized wedge in my mouth, I pretend to savor it while it warms, then drool half of it out of my mouth. I moan loudly and get back to work, making small bites look huge, and even then, I can’t feel my lips.
Their whispered sex words surround me. “She’s so hungry,” she growls, to which he replies, “She’s too skinny to eat.” I smile and oink my approval at that one.
“Stop!” I do, panting. I lean my head over the devoured and ripped carton of Ben and Jerry’s. Both my pigtails and tits sway like pendulums in my vision. I feel melted ice cream dripping from my chin.
“What’s a sundae without the sauce and cream?” He tsks while she shakes her head.
“That’s no kind of welcome party for Blue. Sit up and lean back against the headboard.” I do, feeling the melted ice cream drip down between my breasts. Not wanting them to see me spill the rest of the ice cream, I grab it greedily and pull it to my breasts, a snarly growl escaping my mouth in the process.
I can tell from the tone of their voices as they mutter their approval, I’ve earned back their lust after my feeble licking attempts earlier. I squeeze the container tight to my chest, feeling ice cream ooze out the ripped sides and slide down my belly.
“Rub that shit in, Blue.” His control is teetering, each word a groan.
She takes over before I have a chance to make a bigger mess.
“Blue, enough with the ice cream, put it down.” A sound like a whine escapes me. I pout for effect and put it on the table as she requested. “Grab that pack of Oreos and tear it open using only your teeth.” My reaching hand stops in midair. I think quickly and bend over the table, biting a corner of the Double Stuf package, dragging it to the edge of the table. My heart swells with love for Sasha when I see a slit cut across the top.
My teeth will thank her later, I think as I get on my knees, hands clasped behind my back and find the cut plastic with my teeth. Feigning difficulty, really playing it up, I work the package like a dog, feeling myself jiggle in the process. “Now eat!” he says, right before their screen goes dark.
The suckling sounds coming from the speakers let me know she’s eating him, too. This turns me on. I use the plastic tray as a trough, rooting my nose through the cookies, oinking it up, listening to her slurping sounds and his moans the whole time. My knees, which had been splayed open before, find themselves squeezing together, rubbing each other, trying to find friction. I moan into the cookies, moving my face around in the
tray faster, causing cookies to fly to the table, and bounce to the floor.
“Wait, wait!” he says, annoyed.
I freeze, not sure if he caught me flinging cookies to the wind. They pop back up on the screen.
“Blue,” he says in a patronizing tone. “Are you trying to cum?”
I have the decency to look down sheepishly before looking into his flushed, disheveled face. There’s a naughty gleam in his eyes. “Are those big granny panties wet?” His arm is moving below the screen, up and down frantically. I can tell by the tilt of her head that he’s working her pussy, and a fleeting thought of dark alleys and stun guns runs through my head. I moan long and loud, forgetting myself, mimicking the wrong farm animal.
“Lie back and spread those beefy pink thighs. We want to see your wet spot, dirty girl.”
I can’t help it. His words have my legs opening before I can think. My head falls back with an oink, and I let them look their fill. Comments of, “Dirty girl,” and, “She’s so juicy,” fill my head, and I feel the warm stirrings in my lower belly. My hands move through crumbs and sticky chocolate goo, stopping right at the ruined elastic of the oversized panties.
I look directly into the screen, right into his hazel eyes, my own hooded and mischievous. She’s watching his hand rubbing her clit while mine stands out, waiting for attention, pushing against the thin fabric. I wait for his command, feeling some other sticky liquid pooling inside the cotton panties.
Holding up the Amex card, he says. “We have a tip, and we want to give it to you.” I don’t know what is expected here so I nod, oinking in approval. “Good girl,” he breathes, and her cries of pleasure let me know she’s close. “But only if you’re really ready to earn it.” The last is whispered, him talking to me, but his eyes devouring the look of hot sin on his wife’s face.
This time I snort-oink, signaling what I hope is a yes.
A click and 500 dollars more is added to my account.
“Unwrap the butter and lie back where I can see.” I do this with shaking hands. I don’t think eating is what he has in mind. “Get those panties off.” I do as he says. “You won’t see me, I’ll be savoring my wife’s pussy juices, but I’ll be watching you.” A shudder runs through me at his dirty, dirty words. “And I want to hear you.”
I nod and recline back into the sticky mess on the tarp, sensing instructions coming.
“Bend your knees and open wide.” I know he’s talking to both of us. This makes moisture leak from me. I hear his sharp intake of breath, wondering if it’s for me or her. “Now rub that cold butter from the front of that slit pussy smile all the way back to that crack of your ass, nice and slow,” he says, muffled now. “Until I tell you to stop. And Blue?” I look up at the dark screen. “You better melt that whole fucking stick.”
I get to work.
Our cries mingle, the feeling of the soft, chilled, dairy product against my throbbing clit is beyond compare. Trying to remember the show, I scream oinks as the first quiver of an orgasm shakes my thighs. But I keep them open, my fingers digging into the softened butter, burrowing grooves into the sides. When he moans and lets out a sharp bark, I oink in return.
“The whipped cream Blue! Can you reach it without stopping?” My oily fingers—the only evidence that butter was ever down there—rub my clit vigorously. I reach with my left, knocking one can completely off the table. They both moan while I grab the other can and hold it up like a trophy.
Breathless now, he commands, “I’m gonna spray in your wet mouth, Blue, and you’ll take every drop, do you hear me?” I oink my last, knowing I’ll be choking the cream down soon enough. While my fingers work in and out of my tight, glistening pussy, I position the aerosol can to my mouth, wrapping my lips around the nozzle and squirt. “Yes, Blue! So good!” Over her moans and screams, I hear him shout, “Now, open and shoot for me, beautiful.” His words, combined with the slap of their skin, push me over the edge. Fingering myself faster, I hold the can away from my mouth, spraying whipped cream all over my face, my mouth, my tits.
It’s in my eyes, I feel it in my hair, but I’m there. I cum blind and spray the entire bottle all over my face. He groans and makes his finishing noises while I lick my lips. Using my buttery fingers I scoop the excess cream from my cheeks, forehead and eyes and suck it from my fingers hard. Her loud screams let me know she’s finishing right behind him. Satisfied, purring kitty noises escape her every now and then as my own body revs down.
I feel sticky from head to toe, I’ve got butter wedged up my ass, but I feel alive, tingling. I’ve fallen over the edge and the only thing I want to do is get back up and jump again!
The screen flickers back on. Chase is there, flushed, with no shirt on.
“Blue, that was wonderful! You’re a natural feedee. You’re a true find! Let’s do this again in, say, a week?”
I nod, giving him a genuinely satisfied smile.
“I’ll email you the list of foods, and that’s all you get to eat for that day, you hear me? I’ll check.” No, he won’t, but I nod enthusiastically like I can’t wait, because I really can’t. Before he signs off, he looks me up and down. I can feel the languid eye-fuck from here and find myself opening wider. He chuckles. “Stop it, Blue, or we’ll put those hot dogs to use.” I giggle in return, rolling onto my stomach in the goo, to give him a cleavage shot. Which he takes, drinking in his fill. “Ugh.” He rubs his face, clearly wanting to sit and watch me wallow in the muck forever. “You’re a gorgeous piece of meat, my Blue. I can’t wait to fatten you up. So juicy.” I wink, ’cause I’m cheeky like that.
“Oh, and Blue, lose the cat next time.” I hear him laugh as I turn quickly to see Sam on the tarp, paws dipped in chocolate, licking whipped cream from the surface. Before I can shoo Sam back to the hell he slunk out of, my green light goes red, beeps twice, then goes dark.
A new message blinks. New subscriber has added you. Chase and Belinda say, “Welcome to our bedroom, Blue!” I feel like a million bucks that has been rolled through a Baskin Robbins banana split. No time to revel in this feeling. I’ve got to catch my filthy animal before he beats feet and leaves chocolate tracks all over the room. We head into the bathroom, him licking me, me whistling the whole way.
Chapter 27
Once Sam’s squared away, I grab my phone and dial ‘9’ while assessing the chocolate-covered cherry that gazes back at me from the mirror. Before it even rings once, Sasha yells directly into my ear. “You dirty bitch! I watched, sue me! It was the hottest fuck I’ve seen in, like, ever!” I giggle into the phone at her hooting coming down the line.
“You’re such a perv, Sasha!” I laugh out.
“I am!” she yells. She has no volume control. “I can’t help it!” While I kinda knew in the back of my brain she’d be watching, hovering, making sure they didn’t scare me off, I didn’t mind it then and don’t now. “Get in the shower and I’ll send Gustavo down to clean out the room. He’s Javi’s fill-in,” she offers before I even ask.
I blow her a kiss, using my hand and everything. Even though she can’t see me, or at least I think she can’t, she laughs like she does. “Wash that ass, butterball! We don’t want you getting a yeast infection!” I throw my head back and laugh. I love this girl. Setting the phone down on the vanity and heading into a steaming shower
After scrubbing every square inch of myself, and still finding drying chocolate ice cream in the craziest places, I turn the nozzle from shower to bath and immerse myself in the hot tub. This was a good day, I think without shame or reservation. Hell, I feel empowered and $2500 richer. Well, the $2,000 minus the 20% house cut, 1600 plus my tip, I’m $2100 richer! I hug myself, feeling self-sufficient for the very first time since leaving my nanny job. Just in time. My savings were looking pretty bleak.
I don’t need to wonder what my mother would say about all this, “Sinner! Lying, whoring sinner!” While smacking my ass with her bible. I cringe at the thought. The one memory that could throw shade on my day is
that one.
Well, that and her preacher husband. Spouting hell and brimstone the whole time he’s fondling me in dark corners, checking to see if my boobs have grown in yet. Pulling my dress up to see if I’ve grown pubic hair yet. I shudder at the memory of her walking in during one of his many inspections, giving me hard eyes, and walking right back out. Leaving me to fend for myself.
My arms wrap around my knees, giving myself the hug she could never give. When the door opens, I raise my head, startled. “It was too much, wasn’t it?” Sasha slides down the wall, sitting on the tile and reaches out for my hand. “No, it was fine. I was just thinking I felt…” And I burst into tears.
“Oh no, Blue!” She grabs my hands, pulling me through the water to the edge and right into her arms. “Shush, there, there,” she whispers into my wet hair. “I’ll cancel those feeders toot sweet.” I lean away from her. “No!” I yell, startling Sam the cat, who’s been asleep on the vanity since his bath. We both watch as he jumps down, swishing his tail, the tip covered in chocolate where I missed a spot, before he slinks behind the toilet to sleep in peace.
“Well, if it’s not them what is it, Blue? Is it...Javi?” I shake my head, sniffle loudly, honking back a throatful of phlegm. My face is wet and hot. I splash my face to clear it, shivering at the tepid water. “Memories.” It’s all I can say.
“Come on,” she says as she stands to her full height and holds out a big blue bath sheet for me to step into. “Pull yourself together, lady. We’re hitting the town! Celebrating Blue’s loss of her proverbial cherry!” I laugh as I snuggle into the towel and her hug. “Besides,” she spanks her own bare ass cheek, “that tile’s damn cold!”
As I change into yet another ribbed t-shirt and boy shorts, I marvel at my room. Not only is it devoid of any dessert remnants, but it’s also spotless. Climbing between the covers Sasha holds back for me, I can’t even smell butter or chocolate. “This is amazing!” I exclaim, but Sasha only smiles and says, “Gustavo was trained by the best!” We both know she means Javi but avoid mentioning his name.
Becoming Blue (Chubby Chasers, Inc. #1) Page 15