Forbidden Escape

Over the dozens of bars he'd gathered a laundry list of names then near bankrupted himself getting a licensed PI to convert some percentage of those into contact details. Most of them hadn't responded at all. Some replied dismissively, "You're on your own."

But the handful who he managed to speak to were illuminating. After all the basic discrepancy of facts he'd encountered to this point, these men had nigh identical tales to tell. They all asked for it, they all received their warning and they all suffered the consequences.

This was the point at which several conversations broke down. People who had previously seemed happy to tell their story suddenly clammed up as it got to resolution time. The one who had held his nerve described removing the curse as being a product of sacrifice.

"Sacrific what though?" James pried insistently.

"It's not that simple. It's not like you can tick something off the list and 'Hey presto dick works'." the man named Dale said.

"But your dick does work now right? You did get it back right?" James pleaded desperately.

"Yes of course." he said as he gestured to the family photos on the mantelpiece. "Life actually turned out pretty great after Maven." Dale was thoughtful about this, lost inside himself.

"You sound almost grateful!" James spat at him, more emotional than he meant to be.

"Look, I'm not going to say I'd ever want that to happen again. I'm not going to tell you to be happy about it. But you've got to understand your part in this. You've got to recognise what you're bringing to the table." Dale said the words with a kind of elation; clarity emerging in his articulation. Things known but not understood coming into focus.

"I don't understand! What the fuck did I do to deserve this?" James could barely constrain himself from shouting.

"Well, you did ask for it right?"

"We all fucking asked for it!"

"Right, but recognising that is a start. It helps to put things in context." Dale was putting it together in his head, trying to make this land. "All I can tell you based on my own experience is that yes, magic is real, but she isn't all powerful. She couldn't walk up to the UN and demand they bow down before her ass. Magic is a participatory process, everyone involved has to believe in it on some level."

James was finally able to back off from his wave of anger as he got lost thinking about this perspective. About his own participation. His own belief. Of course he believed in magic, his dick was cursed. But that wasn't what Dale meant and he knew it.

"You're telling me that I'm cursed, because I believe that ass is magic?"

"Almost, I'm saying you believe that ass SHOULD be magic. You believe it should hold power over you. I'm saying that you, me, we; we all believed that she deserved it. That she should have her satisfaction from us." Dale looked relieved to be vocalising all this.

James sat with that for a moment. Pondered his own potential complicity. Remembered how he had coveted her on the dance floor the night they met. Remembered ogling her hips in the cab. Remembered how heavenly it felt for her to bounce around on his dick and how beautiful a sight she'd made doing it.

"So you're telling me I'm fucked?" James eventually responded.

"You'll be very lucky if that's all you are."

Chapter 8: Bright of Night

Tonight was the night. She could feel it. He was ready.

James made his way out of the house. Another night, another club. Dale was cute. His nice family life was a great pitch and the "participatory magic" bit was a killer hook, but James wasn't buying. He was cursed, he wasn't smitten. So where does that leave him? Same place he's been every night for the last 14 nights. On the case.

Maven didn't need to watch James today. She knew where he was going. In fact, the closer it got to their reunion the more she knew about him in general. It was a strange, arcane sort of knowledge; more like mystical guess work than specific information, but it was more than enough. He was going back to where this all started. He'd be at the club where she'd first picked him up. And she'd be waiting.

James was going back to where this whole sordid story started. Back to the scene of the crime. That's what all the great detectives do. That's where he was going to put the pieces together. He wasn't exactly sure how it all fit together. Maven, the Magic Ass, the fake names, the impossible clubbing schedule, the myriad men left in her wake, the Godlike ubiquity of her presence. But he was close and he knew it. He could taste it. It tasted like the earthen sweat of her ass crack and he was going in.

Maven was doing what she did best. Dancing. It was a particularly good night for her. The music meshed with her mindset and the clamour of people caught in her orbit were elevating her to the stars. The universe seemed to pulse in her rhythm. She was setting the tempo for reality itself.

James watched from the sidelines, transfixed. She was dancing to herself, her space her own in spite of impossible odds. Surrounded by the throng of bodies yet entirely untouched. In his vision the dance floor throbbed all around her; reality itself caught in the force of her gravity well. The edges of his vision blurring as the aperture of perception shrank around her focal point.

At that instant James knew it was all bullshit. The case, his torrid foray into Occult detection, the vain idea that he'd been anything other than a sucker; all bullshit. He was just like the people on the dance floor. A rock in her orbit, the grist in her mill or, if you were very lucky, the seat of her throne. In that moment James realised he wasn't the victim of a curse. He wasn't a hard-boiled detective chasing down redemption. He was an ant, fortunate enough to be trodden by a particularly beautiful foot.

Maven could feel him coming closer. Not walking but closer nonetheless. Like the lens was warping to reduce the depth of field. Like the world was foreshortening the distance between them. There was no surer sign that he was ready. He could no longer resist the lure of her web.

Chapter 9: Eclipse

Maven had been aggressive the first time she'd entered his bedroom, but this time she was in command. Deliberate rather than fierce. James found himself drinking it in, whatever was going to happen to him, he might as well enjoy the show. She told him to bring her some duct tape and he did. Told him to get undressed and he did.

His dick was doing its red raw glow before his pants had hit the floor and she seemed to delight in its obvious soreness. Taking his wrists in her hands and wrapping them in several loops of tape then carrying on to wrap around his waist. As the cold, sticky tape wrapped over his belly button James felt a pang of regret streak across his mind; the stray sense that he'd been played, tricked, deceived into bondage.

"Are you sure this is really necessary?" he stammered.

But she hardly seemed to hear him. Finished the wraps that locked his arms to his belly before responding.

"What? Oh, well no, not really. It's just more fun!" How could he argue with that?

With no arms for balance she easily pushed him over onto the bed, whereupon she started wrapping his feet and ankles. There was an instant of panic in James as the fullness of his bondage permeated his perception but as he saw the fire in her eyes his cold feet melted into their bindings. Watching her work was worth it alone, whatever it ended up being.

A few moments later James was lying immobile on the bed. Dick strained as far from his crotch as it could. He could move his neck some, he could flex in the middle and he could roll around if it came to it, but his movement potential was more worm than man at this point.

He still had his eyes and Maven was treating him to a show as she got undressed. Discarding her clothes with the flamboyant abandon of a well practiced routine. Dancing between the motions of it to music he couldn't hear, but the feel of it seemed to be radiating from her.

"Do you have Stereo?" she asked.

"Oh, over there," Flicking his head in directional suggestion. "Should show on your bluetooth."

"Yay!"

The next thing James heard was walls of distorted guitars and industrial drumming; her hips syncing to the aggressive groove as the metal melted into sparkling girl pop vocals. James couldn't have put a name to it if his life depended upon it, but would later discover that this was The Birthday Massacre. Not his style, but he adored the way she was riding its energy.

She stood fully naked this time. No boots or panties between them. She was a miracle of flesh; her proportions improbable but delicious. Even her excesses were contextually awesome. Every womanly feature as full featured as any may dare to desire.

She crawled her way over him, grabbing his dick in her hand as she brought his face to his.

"Oh is it very sore?" she patronised while deliberately making it worse.

"Oh my god it is SO sore!" James frenzied with the shock of it.

"And very hard?" amping up the trivialising condescension.

"I didn't know I could be this hard!" voice thin and reedy.

"Oh you poor thing!" smiles beaming from her eyes.

James could only throw his back and squeeze shut his eyes. The pain and frustration of his aching member was bad enough without seeing her bask in it. He struggled to reconcile that seeing how much she enjoyed his suffering was turning him on even more.

She gripped his penis with shocking intensity of force, all of which communicated through her tiny hand and dainty fingers. How did this woman have so much strength? He whimpered under the pressure of it and she grunted in delight as she found new leverage to bring to bear against him. Had his dick been a banana it would have exploded out of its skin like a rocket; but of course, nothing at all could explode out of him.

Eventually she relented her grasp and made her way further up his torso in various gasps of pleasure and excitement. As she reached her throne and spun imperiously, looking down at him past her own beautiful moon; seeing the awe in his eyes as she blotted out the sun.

Whatever movement James had surmised himself capable of in his initial bondage assessment was largely gone now. Her ass and thighs held his head fast. Her knees pressed down into his shoulders with substantial force and arrested all rolling potential. He could still scrunch in the middle, or wave his unified leg around, but doing so would be both exhausting and unproductive.

As she settled more of her weight into her ass, James found himself drifting into the experience of encapsulation; just being present for the sensory stimulation. The warmth, the smell, the softness, the pressure. Even the discomfort held its own allure, like the righteousness of suffering for God, but more coherent. Yes, being beneath a woman's ass and sex was challenging, yes it hurt, yes it was breathless. But goddamn, it was glorious.

Maven was both settling into a comfortable posture and wiggling along to the music, enjoying the contradiction between intentions; luxuriating in the freedom of her position. There was no rush, her only obligations were to her urges. Nor was it possible to rush such things. She had to be satisfied, that would come at whatever pace she decided.

James was in heaven and hell. Yes the soft, comforting breathlessness of deep ass spelunking, but his dick ached impossibly and being buried in her magnificent ass was making it reach fresh heights of painful straining. He found himself groaning into her ass with the pain and frustration of it all, sacrificing what little breath he had and feeling her grind into his groans with glee.

She leaned forwards, lifting her ass off his face but in doing so brought her thighs close together around his neck. Slipping her lovely claves under the back of his head and crisscrossing her ankles to hold him in a mean scissors. From this position she propped her head up on her hands as her elbows pressed into his the soft flesh just above his hips.

James gasped for breath in the instant his facial orifices became unobstructed but quickly understood the new constriction was on his blood supply. He instinctively tried to bring his hand to her thighs, to try and pry them ever so slightly apart, but his arms didn't move an inch.

"Having a good time down there?" Maven asked, looking over her shoulder, her voice thick with pleasure.

James just sort of vibrated and sputtered.

"Oh wow, your dick is soooo red. My god it looks like you've been jerking that thing non stop since I last saw you." This time she released the pressure in her thighs a little.

"I couldn't help it!" James sputtered pathetically. Shocked that he'd said it.

Maven played with squeezing her thighs and enjoyed the winces of pain they elicited. She started to tease his dick, first with her hands and then with her mouth. Playfully nuzzling at the edges of his crown; soft little nibbles leading to gasps and whimpers behind her.

When she took him fully into her mouth James felt certain this would be it. Surely this was the breaking of the curse. He was under her, she was going down on him, his dick had at least 2 dozen orgasm's worth of cum backed up and ready to shoot. Surely the Gods of Physics and Ass could agree that this was his moment of release.

But no release came, she just kept working him with her mouth. Running her lips and tongue along his shaft as she went, sucking on the ridges of his head; taking him deep within her and massaging his length with her throat. And he didn't cum.

James started to cry. It was too much, it had all been so much too much. He couldn't believe he'd been through all of this, all this frustration and denial only to be embroiled in fresh peaks of dreadful desire. He blubbered and whimpered while she sucked and fucked him with her mouth.

"Oh you poor baby? Do you want me to stop?"

James couldn't say anything. No, he didn't want her to stop. He wanted to cum. What was it going to take? What was he going to have to give her?

"Maybe you need some more ass?"

She pushed up from his waist and brought the soft mounds of butt back to his face. Drowning his tearful eyes in flesh, consuming his nose in her tight hole, swallowing his whimpering mouth with her moist sex.

Loathed as he was to admit it, he did feel better under her ass. It was such a warm, all encompassing comfort to be buried in. And this time his mouth had access to her pussy and he could breathe if he stretched his mouth to its full extent. So he started to lick her and took greater comfort still in her groaning embrace of his tongue. She pressed her pelvis down into him, grinding her clit against his eager work.

For a moment he forgot himself. Forgot that he was cursed. Forgot that this was the product of a weeks long battle with frustration. He was just a man eating glorious pussy and he loved eating pussy.

He lapped at her with feverish fervour. Poked his tongue stiff in time with the undulation of her gorgeous, grinding hips. Slurped for breath at the edges of her folds. Delighted in the reverberations of her groans and the vibrations through her thighs. He felt the satisfaction of being a part of something beautiful. It wasn't for anyone else to see, but it was a glorious moment nonetheless. The universe was a richer place for this occurrence.

Lost in the pocket dimension of her crotch James was snapped back to full consciousness by fiery pain in his dick as she grabbed it once more. This time in the semi conscious mode of pre orgasmic death grip. He re-doubled his effort, desperate to bring about the little death that would release his sore member.

She dug in her nails as her body convulsed and James screamed inside her to further amplify the intensity of her spasm. They stayed locked together like this for some time. Each spent in their own way but James's infinite hard on still waving its red flag in her rigor mortis fingers.

She peeled each finger back with her other hand, making a little noise of pain as she went. She reared up back to sitting then, looked back past her butt once more to ask.

"Enjoying yourself?" she said with a little wiggle.

James had no idea how to answer. What kind of answer advanced his struggle? He opted for honesty.

"I feel like a lucky man to be spending more time under your ass. I'm desperate to cum and I've never been in so much pain before, but this is a great place to be."

"That's right." She said nonchalantly and flicked her booty up and over his face.

He hadn't anticipated it so he'd taken no deep breath and she'd sealed him tighter than a drum this time. She started to work his dick ever so gently, trying to caress it without aggravating the skin.

In the breathless din of her posterior James could feel that something was different. He could feel the infinite, unbreakable edge recede into the void. As his chest panged with deprivation his dick was priming itself for launch. Could this really be it? Was he really lifting the curse right now?

He came in a spurting shower of cum cascading down on her hand and his torso. He wished he could have seen it but in truth he was scantly conscious.

"Have you passed out again?" Raising her ass to let the air back in.

Gasping, James gave her a happy smile.

Chapter 10: Epilogue

James was not conscious for long after he came. The weight of relief from such epic release and the accumulated exhaustion of his denial fuelled detective frenzy catching up to him. He had been vaguely aware of the tape being peeled until he was stunningly aware of it ripping out his belly hair. But beyond that there was sleep and more meaningfully, rest.

When he woke he was shocked to find that Maven was snuggled into him. He stoked her hair gently and kissed her forehead.

"I thought you'd have disappeared again." He stated as she yawned herself awake.

"Thought you'd get rid of me that easily eh?" She asked playfully.

"Absolutely not. I thought I'd have to get back on your trail again. Get back on the case."

"No, I'm here now. No more hiding, you can drown in my ass at my leisure." she said with sleepy satisfaction.

"Don't threaten me with a good time!"

They had a good laugh and rejigged their snuggle posture to snooze a little longer. Eventually James dragged himself up to make some coffee.

"I guess now the curse is lifted you'll have to go looking for someone else to fall under your spell." He aimed for jokey but he was a little worried and jealous.

"You think the curse is lifted?" Maven practically spat the words.

"Oh, isn't it?" James was worried. " But I, but I, I came? Isn't that it."

"Yeah, you can cum if I'm sat on your face and you're near passing out. Good luck jerking or fucking with it though." she scoffed.

James was frozen.

"So uhh. So uhh. You're not finished with me yet?" He croaked.

"Ha! You thought one night would satisfy this ass? You thought you had spurt all the to way to heaven?."

James considered this for a second. Caught between a mild burning sense of outrage and a burgeoning sense of pride. She wasn't finished with him. She still wanted his suffering and sacrifice. And he still wanted her to have it. As it should be, he thought.

"That's fantastic news. How about I eat your pussy for breakfast?"

She swooned and giggled in bed, flicking the covers off to show her gorgeous shape and seductively trail a hand down her midriff. She tossed her hair back dramatically with a fake fainting pose.

"Oh well, if you insist."

James didn't know how long he'd remain under her spell, and by extension, under her ass but he fully intended to have a lot of fun finding out.