I was sitting on a tiny couch, squeezed in between two people who seemed to be taking much more than their fair share. To my right sat Em, my girlfriend of a little over three years. Her short blue hair dangled over my shoulder, so close I could smell her floral shampoo. She had a sharp, angular face, punctuated by a septum piercing and wide brown eyes. She was beautiful, in an intense kind of way.
Which of course, is the best kind of way.
Though she had an entire couch cushion at her disposal, she chose to scoot as close to me as humanly possible, forcing me in turn to butt up against the guy to me left, Mark. It didn't help that he ran larger; easily over six foot, and at least 200 pounds of muscle, he needed all the couch he could get. He had sandy brown hair, shaved close on the sides, and tan skin. Mark was Em's friend, and although I didn't particularly like him, he had been making more and more frequent appearances at Em's place. He and Em were old friends from high school apparently, and so despite being very different people, they seemed to share some special kind of bond. Em was progressive, smart, high-powered, and independent. Mark on the other hand seemed like your ordinary, boring frat bro, the kind of guys she and I made fun of in college. He was crass, sort of rude, and in my opinion, a bit of a dolt. But he seemed harmless enough, and at the end of the day, as long as Em was happy, I would put up with him.
At this point, he was making an appearance or two every weekend, usually just for a few hours at a time. He was never outright rude to me, though occasionally he seemed to imply that I wasn't his favorite person in the world. I often found him staring at me, which I found a bit off putting. He wouldn't drop his gaze when I looked back either, but Em told me he was just socially awkward, so I let it go.
On this particular day, we had the game on in the background, but I could tell that I was the only one actually watching it. Em seemed distracted, and even Mark was mostly quiet for once. I didn't think much of it, though in hindsight their attitudes should have raised some alarm bells.
I felt a pinching sensation in my left shoulder.
"Starting to get some muscle there, huh bro?"
Mark kept roughly squeezing me as he spoke. I tried to pull away from him, but wedged between them as I was, I could barely shift a centimeter.
"Uh, thanks." I replied hesitantly. "I've been hitting the gym a bit more."
"Oh yeah? It's showing, dude, nice work."
I muttered a thank you. It was bad enough being complimented by someone I liked, but I had no idea how to respond to a compliment from Mark. I was hoping that would be the last comment on my body, but not a second later I felt another squeeze, this time on my chest. I jumped a little, surprised that he would touch me there out of the blue.
"Damn dude! You're not skipping bench, I can feel that."
"Um, dude, can you-" I tried to bring up my right hand to stop him, but just then Em decided she wanted to hold my hand. With my left arm pressed up against Mark, I was now defenseless.
"Alright man, that's it, you gotta pop this top off. I wanna see what you look like now." Mark said this with a smile, asking the question like it was a normal thing to say to a relative stranger. I was dumbfounded for a moment, but found my words.
"Nah man, I'm ok. I just want to watch the game. Besides, you're way more jacked than me. You wouldn't be impressed." I thought the compliment might make him more likely to drop it.
"Don't be a pussy, man. Just take it off and flex a little. We can compare biceps." He flexed his left arm to punctuate the sentence, showing off a massive pile of muscle peeking out from his sleeveless shirt. Already feeling insecure, I was about to refuse again, when suddenly Em's sultry voice cut in.
"Do it, babe. Take off your shirt."
My voice caught in my throat. It wasn't the teasing tone she used, though that did have an effect, but rather the particular words she used to order me.
Babe.
That was our code word, her way of letting me know that my compliance was mandatory. She never called me it unless she was dead serious, and so I knew that I had no choice. The thing that surprised me was the context. She usually never commanded me unless we were about to do something...intimate. Why now, in front of her friend? What was she up to?
I didn't have to time to think it through. Em raised my right hand above my head, and Mark held the left in a vice like grip. Before I could protest, the shirt was up and over my arms. I tried bringing my arms back down to cover myself, but it was no use. Mark was too strong physically, and I didn't have the courage to disobey Em. Immediately, a cackle escapes Mark's lips.
"What the fuck, bro? Why are your pits shaved? And your chest too? The fuck, you're hairless!" He let my arm drop as he let out another laugh. I blushed a deep crimson, instinctively putting my hands under my arms.
Suddenly, it dawned on me why Em wanted my shirt off. She was getting off on humiliating me in front of her friend. The night before she had shaved me from head to toe, as was a weekly ritual with us now. It was one of her "lines in the sand" in the relationship. Apparently only "real men" are allowed to have body hair, and she got to shave me whenever she wished.
"Dude, you look like a little girl. What's the deal?" Mark said between laughs. He started pinching my arm again.
"That's the idea," Replied Em with a smile, "I like my men a little girly."
I didn't think I could get any more embarrassed, but that comment officially made me want to jump out of my skin. I could tell that Mark found it hilarious, driving home the humiliation.
"Aw, come on buddy. I'm just messing with you. You do look good, man. Got some nice definition. On the arms. Let me see those pits again dude, I'm coming around to them."
"Look, Mark, I really don't want to-"
"Babe. My friend wants to see your armpits. Arms up." Em's voice took on that sterner tone it sometimes did. She meant business, and I knew what it meant to defy her. Reluctantly, I raised my arms above my head, face burning with embarrassment.
Mark whistled. "Smooth as a baby, dude. Got to hand it to you Em, you sure got this one on a collar, huh? I'd never let someone shave me." He raised his own arms, revealing thick black patches of hair.
Em crossed one of her legs over mine, tracing her big toe over my foot. "He's a good boy. Does what he's told, at least. He knows what would happen if he didn't."
They were talking about me like I wasn't even there, like I was a piece of furniture.
"Oh yeah? What do you do to him? Give him a spanking?" Mark laughed at his own joke, absent mindedly twirling his armpit hair with one hand.
"Oh no, much worse." She leaned across my lap towards Mark, a devious look in her eye. "When he's really bad, I just tickle him until he cries."
I immediately dropped my arms and turned towards her. I don't know what the expression on my face was, but she seemed to delight in my misery. I've always had a tickle fetish, something she delighted in exploiting. It was a fun sexual punishment for us both; I liked it enough that I always let her do it to me, but it was genuinely torturous enough that she could get her sadist fix as well. Despite this, it had always been a rule that my fetish remain secret. It was just too embarrassing, the thought of others knowing I'm frequently at the ticklish mercy of a woman half my size.
Mark doubled over laughing. "Tickling!? You tickle your boyfriend until he cries!?" Mark slipped a thick arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close. "She's got you whipped, dude. What I wouldn't give to watch that!"
"Well, Mark, now that you mention it..." Em smirked at me. "You dropped your arms without permission, babe."
For a moment, I could feel the tension in the room. Em was smiling at me, her most sadistic energy radiating from the eyes. Mark's grip tightened on my shoulder. I knew what was coming, but for one desperate moment I hoped she would show mercy.
I was wrong.
Mark slipped his arms under mine, pulling me into a full nelson and bringing me to the ground. He slipped his legs over my waist, and in an instant I was fully immobilized, arms held above my head and legs completely pinned. I tried struggling, but I couldn't move an inch. Em came to the floor as well, straddling my waist. She held her nails mere centimeters above my armpits, wiggling them ominously.
"You've really done it this time, babe. Can't believe I have to punish you in front of my friend. You're going to get it extra bad, I hope you know that." The look on her face was something between legitimate anger and pure bliss. It was equal parts enthralling and terrifying.
"Please, Em. Not right now. You can tickle me for as long as you want later, I promise. You can do my makeup, you can spank me, whatever you want." My voice came out as a whimper as I pleaded. "Please, just...don't tickle me in front of him."
She pressed a finger to her chin, as if considering the plea. "Hm. I guess I could just do this later..." Her fingers returned to my exposed pits. "But there's no time like the present."
Her fingers skittered wildly, traveling from pit to ribs, to stomach, then back again, moving so quickly that I couldn't possibly predict their next victim. I was in hysterics, bucking wildly, trying my hardest to escape. My laugh was high pitched and shrill, a fact the both Em and Mark seemed to enjoy. Mark's grip tightened to keep me from moving.
"E-ha-Em, please, please! Sto-ha-p!"
It was humiliating how easily he kept me there. It didn't even seem like he was trying that hard, and he had enough energy to taunt me as I suffered.
"Wow bro, I can't believe we've never done this before. Fuck man, I thought you were way too boring for a gal like Em, but this is hilarious. Wish I had a hand free, I'd snap a picture! Actually-"
He repositioned himself so that both of my arms were trapped beneath only one of his. Em started counting my ribs, causing me to laugh silently.
"Huh. Yeah, guess I only need one arm to hold you. Keep hitting the gym bro, maybe next time I'll have to try a little harder."
I felt him slip something out of his pocket, and a phone appeared above me. I could see myself on the screen, a top-down view of my pinned down body, with a big red record button on the bottom of the screen. The fucker was recording this, my most humiliating moment.
"Laugh for the camera babe" Em teased, "This one's going on Instagram."
She was gently scratching each pit with one finger, tracing little circles in the hollows over and over. Tiny giggles escaped my mouth as I gasped for air. She knew my limits, and was purposefully keeping me just on the edge of recovery.
"P-heeha. Please, Em, no. Don't p-post it. I'll-eek! I'll do anything!"
Her probing fingers stopped. I relished the break, breathing my first full breath in over five minutes minutes. "Anything."
Without any hesitation, she made her next request:
"Worship Mark's armpits."
I couldn't believe that those words came out of her mouth. Em had always liked getting her armpits licked, and I never had any problem obliging her. But Mark was a different story. She really wanted me to worship that cocky asshole's hairy pits? It was a step too far, even for me.
Em grabbed the camera from Mark, turning it to front view and angling it down on me. "Do it right now, or I start tickling again, and I send this video to your boss."
My heart skipped a beat. My boss was a 50 year-old, old-school hard ass that didn't fuck around. She was also quite image conscious, and I knew that if one whiff of indiscretion was discovered about an employee, they'd be cleaning out their office within the minute. The job was well paying, better than anything else I was qualified for, and I knew I couldn't lose it. I didn't want to think that Em would make good on her promise, but the look in her eye gave me no reason to doubt her.
Not daring to test her patience, I made a split decision. I nodded meekly. She smiled and blew me a kiss. "Good boy." She gave Mark a thumbs up.
"I'm letting you go, tickle-boy. You gonna behave?"
When I didn't answer, he poked a finger into my left pit, twirling it around in the center. I yelped loudly, drawing a giggle from Em.
"Answer, bitch. You gonna behave?"
My reply came weakly, slipping through my lips before I had a chance to editorialize. "Yes, sir."
Em put a hand on her mouth to stop herself from laughing. "Sir? I like that. Call him sir from now on babe, even when we aren't playing."
I physically recoiled at the thought, my shame multiplied by the fact that it was my own fault. Despite myself, I was getting turned on. I was fully erect, my cock straining through the tight jeans Em made me wear. There was something about being so thoroughly dominated that just fucked with my brain.
Mark's arms slipped off of mine. He grabbed my shoulders and violently flipped me over. My midsection was wedged firmly in between his massive thighs. He laid back against the carpet, arms stretching above his head. Again, I saw the massive tufts of black hair, slick with sweat. I could smell him from my place at his waist, a strong, musky scent that filled my nose. I shuddered at the thought of putting my face there, but soon I felt Em's hand on the back of my head. It guided me towards his left pit.
"Here it comes, babe. A man's armpit. Maybe you could have stopped this if you weren't such a ticklish little bitch."
I could tell from the quaver in her voice that she was close to an orgasm.
Mark chimed in: "I haven't showered in a few days bro, hope that's ok. Don't worry, I didn't hit the gym that hard today. Just some light cardio, I only sweat for an hour or so."
My face was a mere inch from it, and now the smell was overpowering. His hair was tickling the tip of my nose, and I was consumed by the urge to turn and run. But it was too late. Em pushed me into his waiting pit, and suddenly my nose and mouth were covered. All I could smell and taste was his sweat, and as Em moved my face around, I felt the soft hair touch every part of me.
I felt a single nail trace the outline of my cock. Despite myself, a small moan escaped my lips. Even forced to worship Mark, Em could still play me like a fiddle. She started skittering her nails up and down the head. Even through the jeans, her touches were enough to make me buck.
I practically forgot about where my face was as her fingers started to rub along the shaft, up and down, up and down, over and over, back and forth. Those small touches were enough for me.
I started moaning again, this time louder. Em pushed me deeper into his pit as I did, and my mouth was filled with hair. The touches on my aching cock stopped as I struggled to pull away. Em kept her hand firmly on the back of my head, and I heard her and Mark burst out laughing. I struggled for what felt like an eternity, until mercifully, Em released her hand.
I pulled away from Mark's pit, gasping for air. Mark pushed me off of him and stood up, shaking some blood back into his arms. Em handed him his phone.
"Send me that please."
He smiled as he yook it back from her. "You and every other girl in town. I have to say dude, I didn't believe you when you said you could get him to worship my pits in under an hour. I can't believe it barely took ten minutes! What a bitch."
It dawned on me all at once. My mouth gaped open. I tried to speak, but couldn't. Em's eyes confirmed exactly what I feared: They planned this from the start. Not only did Em tell Mark my embarrassing fetish, not only did she humiliate me in front of him, but she had gone behind my back with another man in order to do so. I sat there on the floor, unable to process my emotions. Anger, embarrassment, and lust flooded my mind in equal measure.
"Don't pout, babe. I like you better when you're smiling. Besides, it's not like we're done. I said you need to worship his arm-PITS, not arm-PIT, silly!"
Mark and Em took a menacing step towards me.
"Wait, no! Please Em! I can't do that again, I can't take it, really, I mean it, please!"
They stood over me, grinning ear to ear.
"You have to babe. You're mine. And we're just getting started."
A whimper escaped my lips as they pounced on me.
END OF PART 1
Which of course, is the best kind of way.
Though she had an entire couch cushion at her disposal, she chose to scoot as close to me as humanly possible, forcing me in turn to butt up against the guy to me left, Mark. It didn't help that he ran larger; easily over six foot, and at least 200 pounds of muscle, he needed all the couch he could get. He had sandy brown hair, shaved close on the sides, and tan skin. Mark was Em's friend, and although I didn't particularly like him, he had been making more and more frequent appearances at Em's place. He and Em were old friends from high school apparently, and so despite being very different people, they seemed to share some special kind of bond. Em was progressive, smart, high-powered, and independent. Mark on the other hand seemed like your ordinary, boring frat bro, the kind of guys she and I made fun of in college. He was crass, sort of rude, and in my opinion, a bit of a dolt. But he seemed harmless enough, and at the end of the day, as long as Em was happy, I would put up with him.
At this point, he was making an appearance or two every weekend, usually just for a few hours at a time. He was never outright rude to me, though occasionally he seemed to imply that I wasn't his favorite person in the world. I often found him staring at me, which I found a bit off putting. He wouldn't drop his gaze when I looked back either, but Em told me he was just socially awkward, so I let it go.
On this particular day, we had the game on in the background, but I could tell that I was the only one actually watching it. Em seemed distracted, and even Mark was mostly quiet for once. I didn't think much of it, though in hindsight their attitudes should have raised some alarm bells.
I felt a pinching sensation in my left shoulder.
"Starting to get some muscle there, huh bro?"
Mark kept roughly squeezing me as he spoke. I tried to pull away from him, but wedged between them as I was, I could barely shift a centimeter.
"Uh, thanks." I replied hesitantly. "I've been hitting the gym a bit more."
"Oh yeah? It's showing, dude, nice work."
I muttered a thank you. It was bad enough being complimented by someone I liked, but I had no idea how to respond to a compliment from Mark. I was hoping that would be the last comment on my body, but not a second later I felt another squeeze, this time on my chest. I jumped a little, surprised that he would touch me there out of the blue.
"Damn dude! You're not skipping bench, I can feel that."
"Um, dude, can you-" I tried to bring up my right hand to stop him, but just then Em decided she wanted to hold my hand. With my left arm pressed up against Mark, I was now defenseless.
"Alright man, that's it, you gotta pop this top off. I wanna see what you look like now." Mark said this with a smile, asking the question like it was a normal thing to say to a relative stranger. I was dumbfounded for a moment, but found my words.
"Nah man, I'm ok. I just want to watch the game. Besides, you're way more jacked than me. You wouldn't be impressed." I thought the compliment might make him more likely to drop it.
"Don't be a pussy, man. Just take it off and flex a little. We can compare biceps." He flexed his left arm to punctuate the sentence, showing off a massive pile of muscle peeking out from his sleeveless shirt. Already feeling insecure, I was about to refuse again, when suddenly Em's sultry voice cut in.
"Do it, babe. Take off your shirt."
My voice caught in my throat. It wasn't the teasing tone she used, though that did have an effect, but rather the particular words she used to order me.
Babe.
That was our code word, her way of letting me know that my compliance was mandatory. She never called me it unless she was dead serious, and so I knew that I had no choice. The thing that surprised me was the context. She usually never commanded me unless we were about to do something...intimate. Why now, in front of her friend? What was she up to?
I didn't have to time to think it through. Em raised my right hand above my head, and Mark held the left in a vice like grip. Before I could protest, the shirt was up and over my arms. I tried bringing my arms back down to cover myself, but it was no use. Mark was too strong physically, and I didn't have the courage to disobey Em. Immediately, a cackle escapes Mark's lips.
"What the fuck, bro? Why are your pits shaved? And your chest too? The fuck, you're hairless!" He let my arm drop as he let out another laugh. I blushed a deep crimson, instinctively putting my hands under my arms.
Suddenly, it dawned on me why Em wanted my shirt off. She was getting off on humiliating me in front of her friend. The night before she had shaved me from head to toe, as was a weekly ritual with us now. It was one of her "lines in the sand" in the relationship. Apparently only "real men" are allowed to have body hair, and she got to shave me whenever she wished.
"Dude, you look like a little girl. What's the deal?" Mark said between laughs. He started pinching my arm again.
"That's the idea," Replied Em with a smile, "I like my men a little girly."
I didn't think I could get any more embarrassed, but that comment officially made me want to jump out of my skin. I could tell that Mark found it hilarious, driving home the humiliation.
"Aw, come on buddy. I'm just messing with you. You do look good, man. Got some nice definition. On the arms. Let me see those pits again dude, I'm coming around to them."
"Look, Mark, I really don't want to-"
"Babe. My friend wants to see your armpits. Arms up." Em's voice took on that sterner tone it sometimes did. She meant business, and I knew what it meant to defy her. Reluctantly, I raised my arms above my head, face burning with embarrassment.
Mark whistled. "Smooth as a baby, dude. Got to hand it to you Em, you sure got this one on a collar, huh? I'd never let someone shave me." He raised his own arms, revealing thick black patches of hair.
Em crossed one of her legs over mine, tracing her big toe over my foot. "He's a good boy. Does what he's told, at least. He knows what would happen if he didn't."
They were talking about me like I wasn't even there, like I was a piece of furniture.
"Oh yeah? What do you do to him? Give him a spanking?" Mark laughed at his own joke, absent mindedly twirling his armpit hair with one hand.
"Oh no, much worse." She leaned across my lap towards Mark, a devious look in her eye. "When he's really bad, I just tickle him until he cries."
I immediately dropped my arms and turned towards her. I don't know what the expression on my face was, but she seemed to delight in my misery. I've always had a tickle fetish, something she delighted in exploiting. It was a fun sexual punishment for us both; I liked it enough that I always let her do it to me, but it was genuinely torturous enough that she could get her sadist fix as well. Despite this, it had always been a rule that my fetish remain secret. It was just too embarrassing, the thought of others knowing I'm frequently at the ticklish mercy of a woman half my size.
Mark doubled over laughing. "Tickling!? You tickle your boyfriend until he cries!?" Mark slipped a thick arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close. "She's got you whipped, dude. What I wouldn't give to watch that!"
"Well, Mark, now that you mention it..." Em smirked at me. "You dropped your arms without permission, babe."
For a moment, I could feel the tension in the room. Em was smiling at me, her most sadistic energy radiating from the eyes. Mark's grip tightened on my shoulder. I knew what was coming, but for one desperate moment I hoped she would show mercy.
I was wrong.
Mark slipped his arms under mine, pulling me into a full nelson and bringing me to the ground. He slipped his legs over my waist, and in an instant I was fully immobilized, arms held above my head and legs completely pinned. I tried struggling, but I couldn't move an inch. Em came to the floor as well, straddling my waist. She held her nails mere centimeters above my armpits, wiggling them ominously.
"You've really done it this time, babe. Can't believe I have to punish you in front of my friend. You're going to get it extra bad, I hope you know that." The look on her face was something between legitimate anger and pure bliss. It was equal parts enthralling and terrifying.
"Please, Em. Not right now. You can tickle me for as long as you want later, I promise. You can do my makeup, you can spank me, whatever you want." My voice came out as a whimper as I pleaded. "Please, just...don't tickle me in front of him."
She pressed a finger to her chin, as if considering the plea. "Hm. I guess I could just do this later..." Her fingers returned to my exposed pits. "But there's no time like the present."
Her fingers skittered wildly, traveling from pit to ribs, to stomach, then back again, moving so quickly that I couldn't possibly predict their next victim. I was in hysterics, bucking wildly, trying my hardest to escape. My laugh was high pitched and shrill, a fact the both Em and Mark seemed to enjoy. Mark's grip tightened to keep me from moving.
"E-ha-Em, please, please! Sto-ha-p!"
It was humiliating how easily he kept me there. It didn't even seem like he was trying that hard, and he had enough energy to taunt me as I suffered.
"Wow bro, I can't believe we've never done this before. Fuck man, I thought you were way too boring for a gal like Em, but this is hilarious. Wish I had a hand free, I'd snap a picture! Actually-"
He repositioned himself so that both of my arms were trapped beneath only one of his. Em started counting my ribs, causing me to laugh silently.
"Huh. Yeah, guess I only need one arm to hold you. Keep hitting the gym bro, maybe next time I'll have to try a little harder."
I felt him slip something out of his pocket, and a phone appeared above me. I could see myself on the screen, a top-down view of my pinned down body, with a big red record button on the bottom of the screen. The fucker was recording this, my most humiliating moment.
"Laugh for the camera babe" Em teased, "This one's going on Instagram."
She was gently scratching each pit with one finger, tracing little circles in the hollows over and over. Tiny giggles escaped my mouth as I gasped for air. She knew my limits, and was purposefully keeping me just on the edge of recovery.
"P-heeha. Please, Em, no. Don't p-post it. I'll-eek! I'll do anything!"
Her probing fingers stopped. I relished the break, breathing my first full breath in over five minutes minutes. "Anything."
Without any hesitation, she made her next request:
"Worship Mark's armpits."
I couldn't believe that those words came out of her mouth. Em had always liked getting her armpits licked, and I never had any problem obliging her. But Mark was a different story. She really wanted me to worship that cocky asshole's hairy pits? It was a step too far, even for me.
Em grabbed the camera from Mark, turning it to front view and angling it down on me. "Do it right now, or I start tickling again, and I send this video to your boss."
My heart skipped a beat. My boss was a 50 year-old, old-school hard ass that didn't fuck around. She was also quite image conscious, and I knew that if one whiff of indiscretion was discovered about an employee, they'd be cleaning out their office within the minute. The job was well paying, better than anything else I was qualified for, and I knew I couldn't lose it. I didn't want to think that Em would make good on her promise, but the look in her eye gave me no reason to doubt her.
Not daring to test her patience, I made a split decision. I nodded meekly. She smiled and blew me a kiss. "Good boy." She gave Mark a thumbs up.
"I'm letting you go, tickle-boy. You gonna behave?"
When I didn't answer, he poked a finger into my left pit, twirling it around in the center. I yelped loudly, drawing a giggle from Em.
"Answer, bitch. You gonna behave?"
My reply came weakly, slipping through my lips before I had a chance to editorialize. "Yes, sir."
Em put a hand on her mouth to stop herself from laughing. "Sir? I like that. Call him sir from now on babe, even when we aren't playing."
I physically recoiled at the thought, my shame multiplied by the fact that it was my own fault. Despite myself, I was getting turned on. I was fully erect, my cock straining through the tight jeans Em made me wear. There was something about being so thoroughly dominated that just fucked with my brain.
Mark's arms slipped off of mine. He grabbed my shoulders and violently flipped me over. My midsection was wedged firmly in between his massive thighs. He laid back against the carpet, arms stretching above his head. Again, I saw the massive tufts of black hair, slick with sweat. I could smell him from my place at his waist, a strong, musky scent that filled my nose. I shuddered at the thought of putting my face there, but soon I felt Em's hand on the back of my head. It guided me towards his left pit.
"Here it comes, babe. A man's armpit. Maybe you could have stopped this if you weren't such a ticklish little bitch."
I could tell from the quaver in her voice that she was close to an orgasm.
Mark chimed in: "I haven't showered in a few days bro, hope that's ok. Don't worry, I didn't hit the gym that hard today. Just some light cardio, I only sweat for an hour or so."
My face was a mere inch from it, and now the smell was overpowering. His hair was tickling the tip of my nose, and I was consumed by the urge to turn and run. But it was too late. Em pushed me into his waiting pit, and suddenly my nose and mouth were covered. All I could smell and taste was his sweat, and as Em moved my face around, I felt the soft hair touch every part of me.
I felt a single nail trace the outline of my cock. Despite myself, a small moan escaped my lips. Even forced to worship Mark, Em could still play me like a fiddle. She started skittering her nails up and down the head. Even through the jeans, her touches were enough to make me buck.
I practically forgot about where my face was as her fingers started to rub along the shaft, up and down, up and down, over and over, back and forth. Those small touches were enough for me.
I started moaning again, this time louder. Em pushed me deeper into his pit as I did, and my mouth was filled with hair. The touches on my aching cock stopped as I struggled to pull away. Em kept her hand firmly on the back of my head, and I heard her and Mark burst out laughing. I struggled for what felt like an eternity, until mercifully, Em released her hand.
I pulled away from Mark's pit, gasping for air. Mark pushed me off of him and stood up, shaking some blood back into his arms. Em handed him his phone.
"Send me that please."
He smiled as he yook it back from her. "You and every other girl in town. I have to say dude, I didn't believe you when you said you could get him to worship my pits in under an hour. I can't believe it barely took ten minutes! What a bitch."
It dawned on me all at once. My mouth gaped open. I tried to speak, but couldn't. Em's eyes confirmed exactly what I feared: They planned this from the start. Not only did Em tell Mark my embarrassing fetish, not only did she humiliate me in front of him, but she had gone behind my back with another man in order to do so. I sat there on the floor, unable to process my emotions. Anger, embarrassment, and lust flooded my mind in equal measure.
"Don't pout, babe. I like you better when you're smiling. Besides, it's not like we're done. I said you need to worship his arm-PITS, not arm-PIT, silly!"
Mark and Em took a menacing step towards me.
"Wait, no! Please Em! I can't do that again, I can't take it, really, I mean it, please!"
They stood over me, grinning ear to ear.
"You have to babe. You're mine. And we're just getting started."
A whimper escaped my lips as they pounced on me.
END OF PART 1
