In the off season I usually only hit the tanning salon a few times a month and as I start to diet down to contest weight I increase my trips to the salon and start spending time in the real sun as well. Monique, the owner of the salon, is a friend of mine who gives me a good deal on the tanning beds and I allow her to keep fliers in my gym. I think I send her more business from word of mouth than I do from the fliers but either way we take care of each other.
When I first started going to Monique’s salon she would ask me out every time I went in. I had almost considered switching salons just to get away from the incessant requests for a date. But I recalled the way women got me off their back when I kept asking them out and decided to give it a try. After a couple of months of Monique pestering me about dating her I finally used the line that had been used on me so many times. I told Monique that I did not want to jeopardize our friendship by dating. To my surprise she bought it.
The funny thing is that if Monique was even close to what I wanted in a woman I would have been interested in her because I loved her personality. I had a friend who told me the ugly ones always have nice personalities. His theory was that hot girls are just used to having men fall over them but the ugly ones learn to be sweet and loving to attract the men. Monique was funny, sweet, loving and sensitive but I just could not get past the looks.
I am only 5’10” and although I vary a lot in weight depending on whether it is the off season or not I never allowed myself to get out of shape. I have medium tan skin and have to force a dark tan for contests. I had dated black women before but they were usually petite fitness women with lighter skin. Monique was the opposite of everything I wanted in a woman, at least from a physical perspective.
She kept her hair very short so that in the wrong light it almost looked like she was bald. Her arms were fat and had tattoos on them. Her breasts were the biggest breasts I had ever seen but were well past the point of being attractive. Even worse is that I would never be able to take her anywhere in public. One breast had a tattoo of a man on his knees and the other one had a woman spread eagle. When she walked her breasts smashed together and it looked like the guy was going down on the woman. It was the intended outcome of those two tattoos but I just could not imagine bringing her to dinner with the mayor.
Anytime I saw her she was sitting down. Her butt was so wide that it hung off both sides of the chair. Her shoes literally bent under her weight when she walked. Her salon usually smelled like food and if she wasn’t eating when I came into the salon she usually had some snack out on the desktop when I left. No, the personality just could not compensate for the appearance.
We joked around a lot and talked dirty when no one was around but it was all in good fun. The joking got pretty raunchy sometimes but we had an understanding; or so I thought.
I came in recently as I was beginning my preparation for a contest when Monique said, “Hey handsome, do you want to get down on your knees and go where the brothers won’t?”
I said, “You know it my Nubian Queen. That is what us white guys do best with our tongues.”
She laughed. I laughed. She hit the switch and said, “Your on table twelve for fifteen minutes. Do you need any lotion?”
I yelled back, “No, I brought my own.”
As I walked back I saw that table thirteen was gone and in its place was a big black metal can of some kind. It kind of looked like a submarine out of water. I walked back and said, “Hey, what is that big black thing?”
Monique said, “That’s my butt honey. You’ve seen it before.”
I gave her a look like I was serious so she said, “That’s my new sensory deprivation tank.”
She explained to me that it blocks out all sound, light and feeling. It is used for relaxation and getting in tune with ones self but it cannot be used for more than ten minutes. She shared with me an instance where a man had been left in it for over an hour by an angry employee and when the manager finally pulled him out he was a basket case. He required months of psychological counseling to recover. Then she asked me if I wanted to try it.
I said, “No thanks. I do not want to see a psychologist.”
After some convincing I decided to give it a try for five minutes. I loved it. I increased to seven and a half minutes and after a few weeks I finally worked up to ten minutes. As relaxing as it was it was also kind of freaky and I could see how a man could break after an hour. Sometimes ten minutes felt like a minute and sometimes it felt like a day. I knew I would never dare go past ten minutes.
Just a month before my big contest I stopped in to Monique’s for a twenty minute tanning session and a ten minute sensory deprivation session. And that was my last day as a free man.
The passage of time is a hard concept inside the deprivation tank but I knew after some time that I had been left inside too long and I mean way too long. My mind raced as I thought about the possibilities. What if she had choked on her food? What if she had a heart attack? What if she forgot I was in here and left for the night? What if she was angry I would not date her and wanted to drive me insane? The “what if” scenarios ran through my mind until I was shaking with fear. I screamed for help and tried to pound on the sides but the echo hurt my ears. I was finally sobbing like a baby and desperate for human attention when the door opened up.
I was a broken man. I was shaking and felt like I could not walk on my own accord. Monique helped me out and said, “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry Chad. I lost track of time.”
She put a towel around me and led me to the back room that was only for employees. I had never been back there before. She said, “Lie down on the couch.”
I immediately laid back on the couch and looked at Monique. I said, “It is so good to have a friend like you Monique. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t rescued me.”
She said, “Yes, it is so good to have a woman like me in your life isn’t it?”
I was still shivering partly from fear and partly because the water temperature in the box had gone down over time. Monique said, “Let me keep my man nice and warm.”
She scooted me over and pushed me up the backside of the couch with the force of her weight. I got high on the backside of the couch and rolled back down into her arms. My face came to rest between her breasts. Then she said, “That’s better. Is my lover comfortable in his mistress’ arms? It feels so good to bury your face in the breasts you love so much.”
My mind wasn’t firing on all cylinders and while the sentences Monique was using did not click with my sense of reality they seemed so comforting and seemed to be what I needed. I replied, “Yes mistress, I am very comfortable in your arms.”
She caressed my hair for a moment and said, “I know you’re probably not thinking about kissing at a time like this but I just need to kiss my lover and make sure he is okay. Kiss me Chad so I know you are okay and that you still love me.”
I threw my arms around my mistress and kissed her. She said, “Hmm. I love when your lips get smothered in my big kissing lips don’t you?”
I said, “Yes mistress, I love being smothered by your kissing lips.”
She kissed me again and said, “Do you remember how submissive you become when I kiss you? I hope that sensory deprivation tank did not make you forget that you turn into my submissive slave when I kiss you.”
I could not ever remember being kissed into submission before but I did not want to let on to the fact that her stupid tank had fried my memory so I said, “No mistress, I did not forget.”
Monique rolled on top of me and said, “You love when I pin you and forcibly kiss you causing you to become more and more submissive, more and more obedient. A big powerful bodybuilder longs for a woman who can pin him down and make him helpless and you love the way I can make you do whatever I want.”
She kissed me again and my head swam as reason and thought scrambled around in my head. She pulled her lips from mine and said, “Tell me you still love me.”
I said, “I still love you.”
She said, “Oh good. I did not fry your brain in there. Now tell me you belong to me.”
I told her I belong to her. She then said, “Now tell me you will do anything for me.” “Now tell me you are my slave.” “Now tell me you exist only to serve me.” “Now tell me when I kiss you that you must obey me.” “Now tell me when I dangle my breasts no matter where you are you will fall to your knees and crawl to me.”
Each time she said, “Now tell me” I repeated back what she said and it just clicked in my head that was how I really felt. Something deep in my memory banks told me this had not always been the case but it seemed too real to me now. Each sentence I repeated back became reality.
I finally stopped shivering and she said, “Why don’t I take you home now lover. I will make you a nice cup of tea, take you to bed, make love to you and we’ll see how you feel in the morning. Would my little love slave like that?”
I buried my head into her breasts and said, “Yes mistress, I would love that.”
We walked past my car and she said, “You are in no condition to drive. Just rest your head on my breasts while I drive and think about all the different ways you can give me pleasure tomorrow when you’re feeling better.”
My mind raced through all the books I had ever read on pleasing a woman and I imagined every possibility with Monique. After a nice mug of tea she took me upstairs and said, “Don’t worry about my pleasure tonight dear. Just relax and let me take care of your needs. I want you to cum and fall asleep for me.”
I said, “But I want to please you. I need to please you.”
She kissed me and said, “Remember when I kiss your lips you must obey. Tonight you will orgasm and sleep. Tomorrow you will please me.”
I looked up at Monique as she pinned me to the bed and said, “Yes mistress. Tonight I will orgasm and sleep. Tomorrow I will please you.”
I woke up in the morning in Monique’s massive arms with my head nestled between her two gigantic breasts. I sighed and thought how lucky I was to have a real woman like Monique. As I started to drift back to sleep in her loving arms I tried to recall how we had managed to fall so deeply in love with each other. How had I gotten to the point where I would do anything, give up anything and become anyone my mistress wanted me to? As it hit me I sat straight up in bed and screamed out, “Oh my gosh you tricked me.”
I got up and started to put my underwear back on and said, “I can’t believe you did that.”
Monique got up on her hands and knees and began to sway her body back and forth. She said, “Don’t be angry Chad. Just look at my dangling breasts and remember what you must do.”
I saw her massive hypnotic breasts swinging back and forth and slowly dropped to my knees. As I started to crawl to her I realized I was past the point of no return. Somehow she had broken my will and pulled me from that tank a mindless wreck of a man. She had used this broken state to rewrite my thoughts and even though I was keenly aware of everything she had done this knowledge did not remove the power she now held over me.
As I crawled she said, “That’s better. Come to your mistress, be a good slave and kiss me. Kiss me and obey.”
I stopped at her feet, got up off my hands and kissed her. As we kissed I felt my mind melt as I said, “Yes mistress, I must obey.”
She spread her legs and said, “Now slave, it is time to do what white boys do best. Get down and worship my pussy. Worship my body right and then every day you will improve upon my pleasure.”
My last words before my lips met her pussy lips were, “Yes mistress, I live to serve you.”