Beer Garden Smother
by Smotherfan

He'd stopped for a rest as much as for a beer, after three hours driving on a hot sunny day he needed the break as much as the beer. It was getting on for closing time when he eventually pulled into the car park of the Bluebell.

The car park was empty and the pub almost the same, just a couple of elderly regulars seated near the empty fireplace. He ordered half a shandy and a packet of plain crisps and made his way into what he thought was a deserted garden.

It wasn't until he'd sat down that he saw them, two girls in their late teens on the next table. The shape of the garden had concealed them until he'd sat down.

He tried to ignore them, he didn't want conversation. He was tired, his brain sluggish and he'd probably have found a lay-by for a nap if he wasn't so close to his new home. The conversation they were having drifted across the small space and despite himself he listened. It was irrelevant rubbish then '

"I'm gonna fart!" The blonder of the two said. "Here it comes 'faaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt. Jesus, but I needed that." She laughed.

The other one, she only had fair, not blonde hair, just laughed. "You are fuckin disgusting." She said but her voice held no censure.

"Its three pints of lager, it always gives him gas." The blonde retorted.

"Don't blame the lager, it's that fuckin veggie diet that gives you gas." The other replied.

He just sat there, in his world women very rarely farted and when they did it was with discretion. He tried not to listen but when she farted again his head jerked up.

"That bloke is listening." The other one giggled.

"So, maybe he likes hearing women farting, some men do. I read it somewhere that they'll even sniff them." The blonde said.

"Tracy!" The other squealed. "That's disgusting."

"Truth!" Tracy objected, her voice rising. "They like be tied up so they can pretend that they are being made to, its bullshit of course, they want to."

Tracy was now looking in his direction but he turned away. The problem was that he now had the stiffest hard on that he'd had in years.

"Hey you, baldly, wanna smell his farts?" Tracy called in his direction.

He pretended not to hear but that only egged them on for suddenly Tracy was heading towards his table.

"I was talking to you." Tracy sat down before him, her glass of lager still in her hand.

"Excuse him?" He looked up. He had to be three times her age and had done the entire management course's on meetings and people management and then he looked into the hardest pair of eyes that he had ever seen emerald green, cold and confident, and all those courses didn't mean a thing. "I don't know of anything we have to discuss." He stuttered.

"I thought we could talk about how much you'd like his arse in your face." The emerald eyes never flickered. "How you'd love it when I farted ' what do you say egg head?"

"It's a disgusting suggestion." He replied. He was trying to look away but Tracy's hard eyes held him.

"I don't think so." A smile started to spread across her severe features. She farted once more, as noisily as before. "See, that fart was wasted on the seat, it should have been about here." She touched the tip of his nose.

He just gaped.

"See, now I think that we should really tie you up '" She looked about the garden. "Why don't you get that garden twine and tie up our little victim." Tracy said to Maureen and then to him. "You don't mind, do you?"

He didn't answer and Maureen having crossed the lawn to collect the ball of green twine came and stood behind him.

Whilst Tracy's deep emerald eyes held him captive he felt Maureen pull one arm behind his back and looped the twine about his wrist. She repeated the performance on his other arm. There was a sharp tug and he knew that his hands were bound and that he done nothing to prevent it form happening.

"Done." She said quietly.

"There, doesn't that feel better, now you can't be blamed for anything that we do to you." Tracy's leaned so far forwards that he could smell the beer on her breath. "You can't stop us doing anything, can you?"

"No!" He whispered and felt a tremendous surge in his groin. He was enjoying this no that was an understatement. He was revelling in it.

"What now?" Maureen asked.

"We all take a walk and then have a bit of fun with baldy here, it'll be quiet by the river ' get to your feet dirt bag ' hey, this is fun." Tracy exclaimed. "I get a buzz from ordering him about."

It wasn't easy standing up without his hands for balance. Maureen caught his arm and steered him between the chairs and tables.

"Where are we going?" He asked in a low voice.

"I said, to the river ' now shut up and speak only when you're spoken to." Tracy said, briefly turning around. They were walking in single file down a narrow path, over grown on both sides.

He slowed to navigate a hole and Maureen gave him a shove and he over balanced, crashing into Tracy's back. He rebounded and only just stayed on his feet.

"Sorry!" He said, panting.

"You will be." Tracy snapped. "You'd better believe that you will be."

Tracy is about his height, which was five nine and probably weighted about one hundred and thirty pounds. She wasn't fat, but neither was she dying of malnutrition

Maureen was shorter and slighter but not by much, maybe five seven and a hundred and twenty pounds.

All in all he captive to two muscular and powerful women. All in all he was trust up and pretty helpless. He had liked the idea but there is a gnawing fear of what is to come.

We carry on for a few minutes and pretty soon we seem to be in the middle of nowhere. He can even hear birds singing. The silence just increases his foreboding.

"Where are we going?" He repeats.

"I said; don't ask questions ' you'll find out soon enough." Tracy slows but doesn't even look around.

They march on and he thinks another five minutes has passed. Of course he can't tell, his watch is on his wrist and he can't read behind his back, so even time is getting subjective.

He just feels more and more uncomfortable and wondered just how he could have been so stupid. They could rob and leave him miles from anywhere. He must have been stark staring mad to allow this to happen.

He tries to break the twine or loosen the bindings, but he can't. He even hears a giggle from behind him.

"He's trying to get free." Maureen calls.

"Can he?"

"No chance, he gets free when we let him." Maureen's confident voice simply lowered his morale still further.

Finally they arrived, the flat terrain of the fields gives way to woodland and they reach the side of the river. He tried to think which river this might be without success. He was just trying to keep his mind from what is about to happen. If Tracy kept to her threat then pretty soon he'd was to be her seat.

"Kneel." Tracy ordered. Maureen pressed against the back of his knees and his legs buckled. He tried to stay upright but failed; slowly he sank down and then over balanced so that he fell face first into the grass.

"Roll him over." Maureen suggested and Tracy's foot levered him onto his back. If he had felt helpless before then looking up into the faces of the two women was one of the worse feeling he had ever experienced.

"Still got the twine?" Tracy asked.

"Here." Maureen held up the reduced green ball of twine. "What, his ankles?"

"Well we don't want him running away." Tracy laughed.

He kicked out, not in hope of escaping because if he'd been thinking he'd have known that escape was impossible, but out of the frustration he was feeling. This was his own stupid fault.

"Hey!" Tracy squealed, dancing out of his reach. She smiled, amused at his resistance.

"He's fighting back!" Maureen laughed. "Let's do him."

They fell on him literally fell on him. One of them dropped knees first onto his stomach and his breath escaped with a loud whoosh and a cry of pain whilst the other sat on his legs so that he couldn't kick.

He was hurting too much to fight and he feel the twine being wrapped about his ankles.

"Noo!" He managed to gasp.

"Yes!" Laughed Tracy and she bounced on his stomach again.

"Ahhhhh!" He jack-knifed as far as his bonds and Tracy's weight allowed.

"Get down!" She laughs, pushing him back. He can't do anything to resist.

"Complete." Maureen announces. "Now he really is going no where." He feels her weight shift from him and then she's standing over Tracy, one hand resting lightly on the other woman's shoulder. "Are you really going to fart in his face?"

"That's the very least he can expect to happen." Tracy smiles evilly down at him. "When I have finished with him, he'll be an arse licker."

"Ugh, just where do you find about this stuff." Maureen pulls a face.

"The internet, I was surfing and found these sites that looked real cool, where women made the men their slaves just by smothering their faces under their backsides." She looked smug. "The men would do anything just for a breathe of air."

"Can't see that, how can sitting on a blokes face make him your slave?" Maureen asked doubtfully.

"Try, he'll be begging for mercy in five minutes." Tracy suggested.

Maureen shuffled her feet. "Just like I am?" She pointed at her jeans.

"You can take your jeans off if you want, on the web sites they usually end up naked."

"Ohhhh!" The sound was from him, the thought of either of them sitting naked on his face almost makes him sick. He was prepared to surrender now, if he had thought it would make any difference, but he was helpless and at their mercy.

Tracy looks down at him and laughs. "See, he's so excited that he can hardly speak, go on Mo sit on him."

Mo still looks doubtful but Tracy keeps on encouraging her. "Just put your bum in his face, its no big deal."

She moves, steps across his body, looking down at Tracy not him. He can see the size and shape of her arse and wonders just how it will feel.

"Kneel down." Tracy suggests and just wave your bum in his face, do it slowly and then when you feel comfortable, you can sit down."

Mo looks down between her open legs, staring at him, her long fair hair falls like a curtain around her face. "Peak a boo!" She laughs and starts to lower herself onto him; the denim is stretched tight across her buttocks, the stitching raised high.

"Nooo!" He whispered to no one as Mo's behind finally settled across his mouth, his nose is pressed hard between her buttocks. The weight grows as she gains confidence and begins to settle, there is pain but the humiliation hurts more.

Mo laughs. "This feels funny, I can feel his face, and it's kinda bumpy under my bum." She giggles.

"See, I said that it's easy." Tracy laughs. "It's so easy, men love a woman's bottom, so all you're doing is getting them real close." She laughs again.

"Yeah, but how does this make them into a slave."

"Lift your bum, see what happens?"

"Like this?" She moves and he gasped desperately for the air that her backside had deprived him off. "So, what's happening?"

"Just listen, he's gasping for breath and you've sat on him for what, twenty seconds. Now he knows what it will feel like. Do it again."

He tried to speak but her behind is down on him before he can form the words. He wriggled, but without his arms free it's futile, but he had to try, just the thought of Maureen's arse suffocating him terrifies him.

"Now he knows what it's like, the first time he isn't sure, but the second time he knows what's going to happen, the third will be worse and so on and so on." Tracy is crowing whilst he started to see stars. They could kill him like this, killed by a woman's behind!

Maureen slides forwards until his face is free of her. He just lays there, only worried about breathing and wondering how long it will be before she returned to his face.

She turns at the waist to look down at him. "How was that?" She laughs.

"Please'" He found the wind to speak. "Not again ' please!"

"Oh yes." Maureen laughed. "Again and again and again." She rolled backwards; in one last futile attempt at resistance he shook his head from side to side. "Oh no, not that!" Maureen grabbed his hair and tugged; he yelped and stopped wriggling long enough for Maureen to claim his face for her rear. "And don't fight back!" She slapped his face lightly. Tracy whooped her encouragement.

He stopped resisting, but only because he was afraid of how far they would take the suffocation. Maureen took his submission as his admission of defeat.

She spread herself, closing off any chance he have of air and then she would just longer enough for him to breath, long enough to keep him from passing out. If she had never done this before then Maureen was a fast learner.

"How does it feel?" Tracy asked. She had remained sitting on his stomach, just giving her friends short bursts of advice.

"Nice, different, it's not like being with a bloke, he's just a thing ' hey I just thought, we don't even know his name."

"So, he doesn't have a name, he's just something to sit on ' or worse, why should we want to know anything about him?"

"I'd just like to know something about the face I'm using." Maureen complained.

"He'll have a wallet somewhere." Tracy felt in each pocket of his trousers and emerged with his wallet. "Here he is, all a man's life can be found in his wallet. So let's see, he's called Graham Wright, aged ' fifty one ' there's one of those house details things ' very nice ' no pictures of family ' maybe fifty quid in notes, credit cards, the usual stuff."

"Let's look at the house stuff ' I know this place, its only a few minutes from here." Maureen shifted from his face; in fact she climbed completely off him. "So Graham, this place was on the market only a few weeks ago ' are you buying or just looking?"

He was just grateful to be free of her suffocating rear. "Bought'" He finally gasped. "Moved in ' this week."

"This is a big place ' so how many others, wife, kids?! Tracy asked. She was still sitting on his stomach, her knees were raised and her skirt had fallen to her waist. He tried not to look at her panties.

"Just me ' wanted a big place ' always have, plenty of room to move about in!" He gasped.

He didn't know what he was saying. All he knew was that the longer they asked him questions then the longer they stayed off his face. He would trade any information for that.

"Any one joining you later?" Tracy asked in what he assume she believed to be an innocent voice.

"No." He admitted. It was a bitter admission, he might be a comparatively wealthy man but that had come at the expense of his marriage and what few friends he had.

"Just you and a great big house." Tracy laughed sharply; suddenly she was sitting on his chest, his chin pressed against the hem of her skirt. "You know what I promised you, well here's the first instalment." She lurched forwards once more and he was enveloped in her skirt. He looked upwards into the crotch of her panties and they hovered lower and lower.

He mouthed the words of protest, of pleading.

Tracy was so low that her panties were brushing against his nose. He began to smell her, the overpowering smell of her sex.

"First instalment ' delivered." She laughed huskily as she farted. He heard it and moment later he began to smell it.

Tracy settled over him, the experience of her panty-covered backside on his face was ten times worse that anything inflicted on him by Maureen.

Everything seemed multiplied, her smells were strong, and the heat from her body worse and even her weight seemed the greater.

"I know that look, you're planning something." Maureen said.

"Just thinking."

"What about, go on tell me!" Maureen pleaded

He grunted into Tracy's panties as Maureen sat down on his stomach. It was as if they'd forgotten he was there.

"Well, he's all alone in that big house and we live in that crummy squat. He must have space there for us. What do you think?"

She moved slightly, enough for him to breathe a couple of times before she sat down again.

"I hadn't." Maureen replied. "I haven't thought beyond how many pints I can afford ' are you being serious?"

"Sure ' hang on ' that's better!" She farted again, this time straight onto his face. He even felt the explosion against his face.

"He's not going to agree." Maureen protested.

"Oh yes he will, if we humiliate enough, he'll agree to anything." Tracy laughed.

"Just farting a few times will never work." Maureen sounded less than convinced. "He wouldn't let two complete strangers move into his house.

"No that's true, but would you let two complete strangers tie you up?" Tracy asked.

"No, they'd get a smack for suggesting that."

"Likewise, but what's his name?"

"Graham."

"Yeah, well Graham's allowed us and he hasn't put up to much of a fight since then." Tracy wriggled about and he thought that she was about to fart again. She seemed to have an inexhaustible supply.

"Meaning what exactly, he likes sniffing your farts?" asked Maureen curiously.

There was a brief silence punctuated only by his ragged breath as Tracy let him breathe, then she settled down again. He expected her to fart but she didn't, it was smelly enough without her gas.

"He likes being a submissive." She said smugly.

"A what, what's a submissive?"

"Somebody who likes taking orders, being humiliated, a real submissive will do anything their Mistress asks of them."

"And he's one of these submissives?" Maureen asked.

"I'd say so, you'd have to be pretty sad to let this happen to you and he reckon a real man would keep fighting back. He doesn't even shout or swear."

"So what do we do now?" Maureen asked.

"You go get his car and we'll meet you at mile end ' then we'll do a little house viewing."

He had heard them speak but somehow the words hadn't quite penetrated his dulled senses, had they really been talking about taking over his house? He just couldn't believe it.

Maureen shifted from off him and after another exchange he didn't hear any more from her. He just lay beneath Tracy, breathing in the stink of her farts, the stink of her body.

Finally she moved, releasing him from his fetid prison. She stood up, arching her back and flexing her legs.

"I bet you really enjoyed that?" She laughed and when he didn't answer kicked him in the side. "Well?"

"It was horrible." He whispered, his throat was dry and it still felt as if they were still sitting on his face.

"Funny, from where I'm standing that looks like an erection, should I found out?"

"No!" He cried and tried hopelessly to protect his groin. Tracy just pushed his legs down and then grabbed his balls.

"Now don't argue or this will really hurt." He felt the pressure on his balls build.

"Please don't hurt him." He found himself begging her.

"Like this?" She squeezed and he yelped. "Just remember that I can do this at any time." She squeezed again and he yelped again. Tracy was grinning from ear to ear. She was enjoying this. "Now lie still, I'd have thought you'd have fantasized about a young woman holding your dick.

He acquiesced and Tracy started to unzip him. She was right, he had did have an erection and the nearer she came to his dick then the harder that it grew.

He was expecting her to just unzip him, but suddenly Tracy started to undo his trousers and then began tugging them down. He couldn't stop her; the garden twine wasn't giving a centimetre. Maureen had done her job to well.

As his trousers reached his ankles the twine intervened, but not for long. Tracy unravelled the knot and in another few seconds Tracy had his trousers off. She cast them into the undergrowth. "You don't them!" She said sharply.

"Please!" He gasped.

"No!" She pushed him back down and once more sat across his face, pushing back until his nose was between her buttocks. Tracy's weight crushed down on his battered face, the damp, fetid smell of her body once more beat down on his senses. She barely moved, just leant forwards enough to once more grab his defenceless dick and then she started to wank him, in between allowing his the merest of breaths, she thrashed at his dick, but always stopping before he came.

It was doubling the torture and the humiliation, now Tracy was no longer just rubbing her ass across his face, now she was molesting his most private part.

"You know I can't remember having his hand around a smaller dick." She laughed. "I bet you've never really fucked a woman, bet they all have to fake their orgasm." She laughed nastily. "Don't worry baldy; I don't think you're ever going to use this on a woman again."

He expected her to fart again; she seemed to be obsessed with farting on him but she didn't. Suddenly she lifted off him and then pulled the sodden gusset of her panties to one side. Even in the half light beneath her body he could see her hairy and naked sex.

"Kiss that baldy, if you ever want him off your face, kiss his cunt."

He didn't even hesitate; if that was the price of breathing clean air then he'd do it. He lifted his head and planted a kiss upon her slime covered sex.

"Again ' I hardly felt that!"

He pressed harder against her, now tasting her sex, her lubrication, on his lips.

"French me, use your tongue baldy." She demanded, squeezing his cock.

Tentatively he inserted his tongue, feeling the folds of her sex stretch and part as he pressed and the more he did so them the more copiously her juices flowed onto his tongue and down into his mouth.

After that it was just time and nature before her orgasm arrived, flooding his mouth as she squashed down on him. Now she didn't move as the orgasm left her breathless and uncaring of his fate. He was barely conscious when she finally moved, rising on unsteady legs.

"That was good baldy, real good." She laughed again. "Now get to your feet."

He struggled to rise but eventually she had to help him and then he stood before her, dressed only in his shirt, socks and shoes and with his erect dick, purple from her abuse, sticking out from beneath the shirt.

"Come on, Mo will be there now."

"Not like this please." He began to beg and as he started to beg then he also started to cry. ""Anything ' take his wallet, have the cash, the credit cards, I'll give you the pin number ' just untie him; please 'let him get dressed. I won't try and escape ' and you can do anything you want to him ' but please, please, let him get dressed."

"What's the pin number?"

"1543."

"1543 ' thanks ' now move your arse ' or do I have to get unpleasant?"

He looked as if he was about to say something and then he stumbled after her, his face streaked with tears and her climax.

She led him through the fields towards their appointment with Mo and his car. They met no one until he saw in the distance the reflection on his silver BMW, Mo was sitting on the field gate and when she saw his predicament, she burst into uproarious laughter, shouting towards them and applauding.

He stood in abject humiliation whilst Tracy told her companion of the events after she'd departed. Every detail just added to his growing sense of utter and complete defeat. He would never live this down, never.

"Is he any good?" A curious Mo asked as she circled him.

"He'll learn." Tracy laughed. "He's going to have a great deal of practice."