Messy

This text includes frank discussion of power "exchange" and rape as properly foundational of the outward (ie, sexual) and inward (ie, "private") life of the individual. As such you may find it intolerable.

Everything happened three years ago. Back then Messallina was in the last year of Feminist Theory, but she was considering starting over with Literary Criticism because this old mammie, her "academic adviser", kept suggesting it. I tried to counter-suggest to her a few times that the old dyke (really, she wasn't that old) had a crush on her and just didn't want to see her go, but it always went right past her somehow. Strangely enough for someone so insistently subtle when it came to interpreting what others did or said, Messy just had a different parry ready every time and that was all.

Long ago by that point, a couple of years already, I had finished business school in the Business Building right accross from their Humanities Hall, and my carreer was really starting to take off. I imagine you don't really care about any of that and you'd a lot rather heard about her name. I don't really know. She told me one time that before she was born her mother had heard all about this empress of Antiquity who was very brave and courageous but whose enemies kept calumnying her out of sheer jealousy ; Messallina got the same name so that she'll be just as brave and courageous as the empress, because people today are a lot better informed than during those dark ages and they'll probably see right through the envy. I'm not sure how true this all is. I never met her mother ; there was a Roman wife-of-somebody by the name Messalina, but with a single l, and her story was a lot different, too.

That fated day, I was going to ask her to marry me. I had a ring in a little box ready and everything. As we walked into the officially nice restaurant on one end of the campus I still had no clear idea of how I'd go about it. They never tell you this, they tell you everything else but somehow someone somewhere decided nobody ever needs to be told about any of this. Maybe I should pretend to go to the bathroom but then sneak into the kitchen and ask them to put the ring into her food somewhere or something ; but what if they stole it ? I had no idea how to even go into the kitchen, not like there's a secret gangway starting behind the urinals and ending behind the dishwashers. Maybe there should be ? Besides, what if she choked on it, or chipped a tooth. Messy ate like a wild python, she chewed twice every third bite and otherwise swallowed everything mostly whole, she could very well have not even noticed anything! How would I even tell her, you know, maybe back in the car, "listen, Mess, sift through your poop in the morning". It was a huge stone going by what hole it left in my credit cards -- it was one of those stitch jobs where you have to put chunks on different ones -- but it really wasn't larger than a corn nibblet. I had seen her swallow whole shrimp without a second thought, what fucking nibblets...

Then we were seated. There was... another box. The ring as the ring, but I really had no idea how to bring this one up. I kept fantasizing about how I'd be all suave and shit, say something like "And now here's the ring I want you to put on me", but I knew with 100% certainty I wouldn't manage, not anything even remotely close to that. You know what it was. I bet you do. I had fantasized about it for many many years at that point, I think I started daydreaming about being locked up and not able to do anything unless she gave me permission in junior high. Of course, back then they didn't have the thing, or maybe I just didn't know about it ; and I didn't know Messy yet. To be honest I was just thinking Mom'd do it, or maybe Julianne, my eldest sister. Or the math teacher. She was very severe. Or maybe the girls in class during PE, they'd just come in the boys' dressing room with the teacher one day and line all the boys up, then make us drop our pants and panties and cage all of us. We'd have to do all PE naked, 100% completely naked from that day onwards, because there's nothing you can do anymore once it's on. I sometimes wore special panties just in case it happens that day, so I'd be extra humiliated by the proceedings. They could maybe even pick on me. They'd pick on me because I stood out so much, all of them, just to hide their own shame.

There were very few customers in the bar/restaurant that evening, in spite of their song and dance about needing reservations. Other than us there were a few couples apparently finishing their meals and asking for checks and a large table across the floor where about eight or nine black men were seated. I think they were athletes on campus maybe, but I didn't know any of them. They were having rounds and chatting somewhat loudly. Our waitress swiveled in all quietly and then spooked me suddenly with her "Hello, my name is Valeria and I'll be your waitress this evening!" shot out of a cannon right behind my right ear. Then she gave Messy a very insistent look and she said "Oh my god, you.are.so.beautiful!" Messy smiled and thanked her, apparently not bothered in the slightest that this mulatto waitress was judging her looks. If it were some white kid on campus it'd have been a helluva different matter I imagine, she kept going to all sorts of "stop sexual assault" talking circles and things like that, but when Valery did it it was A-ok. She was totally hot and everything, incredible, just incredible bubble butt and very pretty face. The waitress I mean, Messallina was a whole different story.

"Hey honey," Valery continued in what seemed the same breath, "would you do me a favor ? I'm wiped, I've been trying to pull a double shift to make tuition, but it really can't be done. I can't even stand anymore. My feet are killing me. Would you mind taking over, just for a coupla hours ? There's almost nobody left, it's almost done. I don't want to lose the whole shift just for the tail end of it." Messallina was nodding understandingly, and even whispered "sure" without breaking eye contact with her for one single moment, which doubtless encouraged the intruder. "Here," she said, "wear this", as she put her name tag on Messy's blouse, "and if anyone asks say you're Valeria. And don't worry about your boy here, I'll keep him entertained for you."

Messallina was all pale, which strangely enough happens to her when she's excited just exactly the same as when she's spooked, you can't really tell these apart with her. As she slowly stood up she mumbled barely audibly "but... but... what do I do ?" Valery jumped up, grabbed her hand and pulled her away "Don't worry, come, come, I'll explain everything to you. It isn't that hard, oh my god, thank you so much for doing this!" and as they left hand in hand they left me behind, mouth agape. Really ?! What the hell just happened ?! Maybe I should be calling the manager, I thought, but then again what if Messy really wants to play waitress ? I don't think that she ever had before, her parents were so loaded they brought her up like a princess. Maybe it was interesting to her. So far nobody had really noticed what happened, so did I really need to certify a witness to the whole thing ?

When she told me I must prepare a "truthful and complete" account of "our first real date" as she put it for the Gender Studies meeting at our place this Thursday, Messy also handed me an old notebook. In the interest of truth and completeness I should probably point out it's really her baby shower, and that my first thought when I first heard about her idea to switch to Literary Criticism was that it's not the dumbest thing she could have possibly come up with, sure it makes a waste of three years' tuition but for one thing they were wasted already and for the other thing at least she doesn't want to have a baby. How people grow in three years though!

I had no idea she had kept a journal back then, but here it is, in her own words :

Then she grabbed my hand, and it was electrifying! I felt unknown watering holes swell up apocalyptically and inundate my chest. I could scarcely breathe. No man had ever touched me like that, it was exactly like professor Wienerschnitzel told us the great Crystal Eastman described it privately, "it wasn't harder than a man's grasp nor wider nor thinner nor anything else ; it was not in any definite way perceptibly different, and yet how very different it was!"

She took me to the kitchen and pushed my back against a rattling metal contraption. There were a few guys there seated around a small something, and they were kinda looking at us, discreetely, but I didn't care. Val got real close to me, pushing her hips into mine, her breast into my breast, talking one inch away from my mouth. I could barely perceive her outline, she was so close. It was intoxicating.

"Do you like him ?" she hissed, and I thought she sounded displeased, and I was suddenly heartbroken. It made me sick, the very idea, physically. "I do not want to disappoint her" I thought, and everything else melted into confusion.
"Who ?" I asked, my mind blank.
"Your boy back there."
"Ah!" it shook me back to reality, sharp, cutting. "He's a great guy."

She said nothing, but leaned into me forcefully and kissed me. Hard, harsh, her breath was scalding and as her tongue subdued mine my eyes filled and tears flowed, quietly, pleasantly. She broke it off just as suddenly and then hissed in my open mouth, "Yo' eve' been pimped befo', ho ?"
"What ?! Me ?! No!" I protested, desperately.
"Yo' gonna git pimped now, dat's fo sho." she hissed again, and I felt my knees buckle. She held me up by the scruff of my neck, and I could feel my nipples stand up, painfully, like tiny stitchstars. "Yo rich bitch ?"
"I... I... Yes!" I managed eventually, through all the confusion. Yes, yes I was, I still am very privileged.
"Here's how tonight's going to work, hon" Val said, dropping the Ebonics. "You work for tips, like any waitress. But you work for me. Understood ?" I nodded enthusiastically. "And at the end of the night, whatever you make, you match out of pocket. If you make five hundred, my share is a thousand. If you make six hundred, my share is..." I stared at her, blankly. "Can't you do math ?"
"Six hundred! One thousand two hundred!" I blurted out.
"That's right."
"Do waitresses really make that much in tips ?!" I wondered outloud.
"Not black girls don't, no. But you will." I will ?! "You do wanna make good tips fo' yo' momma, don't you ho ?"
"Oh yes. Yes, yes yes!" I nodded enthusiastically.
"Take off yo bra." I stared at her, then my eyes darted around the room. "Dumb white bitches always in those dumb things. Let yo titties out, they need air, yo."
Mechanically, I reached around under my blouse to undo the clasp. As my fingers ran over my spine, the floodgates opened. Val snarled. "Properly, ho. Take dat top off!"
Before I knew it, my silk blouse was in her hand, and then my bra. There I stood, topless, in the kitchen, by the dishrack. I shivered. My arms instinctively tried to wrap around but Val grabbed my wrists.
"You excited ?" I nodded vigurously. I hadn't been that excited in my whole life up to that point. "Push dem jeans down around your ankles an' let's see."
My jeans were bunched up with my socks before she could finish her sentence. She leaned over, grabbed an immense knife with a really sharp point, pulled my G-string far far away from my left hip as if to give me a sideways wedgie and then touched it with the blade. It snapped instantly, then she cut the other side and then she pulled it out from between my thighs. I was drooling visibly, excitement flowing in rivulets down my legs.
"O yeah." she said approvingly, soothingly. "Yo ass gonna make good dough tonite, that's fo sho. That's fo damn sho."
It made me so happy, I was literally overjoyed.

She handed me the blouse back ; as I was putting it on she squatted down and pulled my jeans back up and fastened them herself. "Now listen up, rich bitch : what I join you can't take apart and what I put apart you can't join, is that clear to you ?" I nodded, though I had no idea at the time what she meant. I just wanted her to be pleased with me. My eyes were fixed on my maimed underwear, still in her firm grasp. "Oh, these. I'm gonna have you sign these for me later." She had a whole trophycase of these "white girl liberations" as she called them, but I didn't know yet. "Now go out there, and let those homies feel you up, you hear me ?"
"Yes."
"You go up to the table and you say exactly like this : 'Hi guys! My name is Valeria the Slut. The other Val is taking a load off her feet for a minute. You can just call me Slut.', got that ?"
"Yes. I go to their table and I say 'Hi guys! My name is Valeria the Slut. The other Val is taking a load off her feet for a minute. You can just call me Slut.'."
"That's right. Let them play with your tits as much as they want, but don't touch their junk. If any of them doesn't just lean over and put your rack on his arm or something."
"I will."
"Aite, now get outta here, ho! Time to make sum green."

And with that I was out of the kitchen, stepping hesitantly into the future!

To be honest, I had always suspected Mess wasn't crazy about me or anything, that I was more of a "could take it or leave it alone" sort of deal for her. I always felt I had to seriously compete. But to read it like that, pen on paper... I confess it's a shock, even after all these years.

The other Valeria came over to my table, and sat herself in the exact spot Messallina had just abandoned. She eyed me for a moment, then she leaned back, lifted her legs and put her feet right in my lap. She wore wedge espadrilles, which truth be told looked fabulous on her feet. At first she just pinched my cock in between her heels right through my pants, which was painful but also delicious ; but then she moved on to pushing hard on my balls, which was excruciating. I was holding my breath, trying not to start crying like a little girl.

"What's your name, boy ?"
"I... I can't remember." I managed, exhaling as little as I could.
"Awww, s'thematter", she cooed at me. "Do his itty bitty tata hurt ?"
"Yes!" I let out sharply.
"That's good. They should hurt. Don't you think your whole peewee should hurt ?" she asked, vising my nuts a different way.
"Yes" I admitted without thinking.
"Would you like to try without shoes ? Maybe it's not as bad." she offered, neutrally. I shook my head vigorously just as I was no doubt turning all shades of purple. She had really strong feet, and those heels, dear God! "Alright, take them off, then. But do it like a gentleman!"
"H... h..." I couldn't say anything until she eased the pressure. She toyed with it for a while before letting me speak. "How does a gentleman do it ?"
"Kiss and suck and lick everywhere. Especially the toes. And in between."
I undid her straps and then huddled over to worship her chocolate feet. They had all the flavour of the end of a double shift, with little gifts of lint or unidentified gunk hiding away in crevices here and there. Some parts were difficult to reach properly at first, but then she told me to kneel under the table so I could do a good job of it and indeed, it's much easier to do kneeling before her. Not to mention one's privates are safely hidden away that way.

I don't know how long I spent eating out her feet, but at some point Messy came by to ask if we need anything, all professional and serious. Valery ordered some drinks and told her to put it on the dudes' tab. I avoided any kind of eye contact and just focused on my task. I really didn't want her to see me or have to explain to her what I was doing.

While Messallina was away getting our drinks, Valery ordered me back in my seat, and then had me take off my shoes, and put the socks inside. It felt weird to feel the floor with my bare feet, but good, pleasant somehow. I thought maybe next it was going to be my turn. Maybe Valery orders Messallina to get on her knees and suck on my feet for a change ; or maybe she does it herself. I didn't think so, not really, I mean I didn't think it likely at all, but I slid my feet all over the floor to pick up all available dirt just in case.

The drinks took a while to show up, but eventually Messallina placed a tall stemmed glass with Bailey's Irish Cream in front of me and something amber, maybe rum, in front of Valery. She curtsied before her, too, and then started to leave, but Valery stopped her. "Take this garbage and throw it out in the kitchen, girlie" she said, pointing at my shoes. Messy squatted right next to me without looking, picked up my shoes and left. I had no time to think about what happened to her bra because I noticed the guys at the table were hooting, laughing and pointing at me. I didn't have any idea why, but I very much preferred to pretend it wasn't happening, so I busied myself with the drink. It was pretty strange, thick and clumped up in places, and pretty strong I thought.

"Kind of a whore's drink, white liquor. Don't you think ?" Valery offered neutrally.
"Yeah, that's what they said in my highschool, too."
"Do you like it ?"
"It's okay."
"Well drink up baby boy, I have a little suprise for you." I gobbled it all up in one go, so she ordered me to lick the inside of the glass thoroughly, which I did. Then she asked me how it felt being barefoot, and to my own surprise I confirmed for her that it was quite nice, actually.
"Sorta liberating, wouldn't you say ?"
"Yeah, actually."
"Shoes are for real men, anyway. You're not a real man, are you ?"
"Not really."
"Maybe one day, huh." she offered, cooingly, almost mothering.
"Maybe."
"So do you want to play a game ? I heard baby boys love games."
"Sure!"
"You're not giving it to me, darling..." she trailed off, so I repeated a very enthusiastic "Sure!" and even clapped for some reason.
"Alright," she said, taking out her smartphone and resting it in front of her on the table. "Take off your pants. There you go. Fold them neatly and set the on the chair. There." My mind was racing, as I regained my seat in just briefs. I hate to admit it, but they weren't normal briefs. They were from this thing, "HommeMystere", you had to order them online. I had put them on because I was secretly hoping I'd somehow summon the guts to talk to Messy about the rings, both of them, the golden one with diamonds and the steel one with keys. I knew that I would never dare say anything as long as I had these on, and the humiliation was intoxicating. If only I had worn some normal boxers, I'd think for the entire rest of my life, maybe I'd have had the gumption somehow to tell Mess all about everything. Maybe we'd be happily together ever after. But I couldn't wear normal, plain, ordinary boxers and go through with it. I knew I couldn't. I had to wear these. This exact pair, I knew the moment I saw it, this is going to be the pair of panties in which I won't dare say anything to Messallina. So pretty, pink-and-purple lacy G-strings for gay men from a specialty online store. Valery chuckled, then ordered me to stuff them into my empty glass. Then she ordered me to spread my legs widely, and rested her toes on either side of my scrotum, tickling me with her toes.

"Here's the game we're gonna play, baby boy. I'm going to start a counter on my phone. You don't get to see what it is. Then I'm going to squeeze your balls between my feet, and press them against the seat, and once your cock is hard, as it certainly... oh look at that!" she exclaimed as I presented a raging erection, "I will force your baby tool in ways it doesn't go and scratch it all over, hard, especially where it's sensitive right there" and she pushed her toenail right under the flare, which made me wince. "That's right. At some point you're going to say 'I'm sorry, Mommy, I'll never grow up. I just can't. I'm such a disappointment.'. Repeat it."
"I'm sorry, Mommy, I'll never grow up. I just can't. I'm such a disappointment."
"That's right. If you say it after the counter has run down, I'll give you a nice foot massage and then you can clean my feet with your mouth again. But if you say it before the counter has run down, you will have to paddle barefoot, as you are, panty glass in hand, to that table over there and ask them why are they pawing your fiance. And then wink at them. Is that clear ?"
I just nodded. The only thing I could think of is whether I could actually take a whole hour of this, and whether she maybe had one of those crazy timer apps that did more than an hour. Could she have ?
"Alright baby boy, now stuff those magic panties of yours in your filthy little mouth and don't let me hear one peep or whimper out of you until you're ready to swallow the whole enchilada. Go!"

As she said go!, the balls of her feet came together at the root of my ballsac and pulled the captive flesh sharply towards her. I couldn't breathe, my eyes watered up, it hurt worse than anything I had ever experienced, and the pain kept coming and coming, layering itself over itself like thick sheets of pudding at the pudding plant. Then she used one foot to push my ballsac against the rim of the chair, real hard, balls dangling underneath. Her other foot was kicking them from beneath, slightly at first, then harder and harder. Then she changed feet. Then she held my penis tight against my belly with her left, pulling it down softly, while she ran the nails of her right toes side to side and then up and down around the urethra. I could vaguely perceive, from the fiery ball of pain I inhabited, Valery looking down at her clock now and again ; then she stopped doing it altogether. Perhaps it was safe to say the words, but I knew we weren't done yet. Then Messallina showed up.

"Ma'am, the guys over at table nine say that after midnight it's topless waitresses here ?"
"Ah, that's right, sure. Here, I'll take mine off too." Valery retorted, her pressure on my genitals undiminished.
"Alright ma'am, I'll go tell them they can take mine off too."
"Wait a second. Go sit over there next to the baby boy, he has something to tell you."

Messallina obeyed her without hesitation. She came and sat next to me, without making eye contact. She just sat there facing her, head bowed, the picture of obedience.
"Go ahead, baby boy. Say it!" Valery ordered.
I spit out my gag, and whimpered "I'm sorry, Mommy, I'll never grow up. I just can't. I'm such a disappointment."
Messallina suddenly turned towards me, and our eyes locked for a long moment. Then her hands went around my head, comfortingly, and pulled it to her breast. "I know, baby. I know. It's okay now. It's okay." As she said that I could feel her hand caressing my shaft, softly. Valery's iron feet stopped torturing me and soon joined her caresses. Within seconds I was splooging, thick, lots and lots, string after string after string of viscuous glue. Some of it went on Messy's hand, but most ended up on Valery's feet. Mess wiped her hand in my hair, like a caress, and ran it over my face. I could smell it. Then she took off. I knew what I had to do.

I took my time cleaning up Valery's feet, inch by inch, retracing portions I had already done to give my tongue enough time to produce plenty of saliva to well dissolve and digest all the goo. Eventually I was done, and we just sat there in silence for a moment. Then I had to ask.
"Will you make her throw out my pants, too ?"
"Sure."
"Please don't do that. Please don't."
"Why not ?"
I had to tell her. I had to. "I was going to propose to her today. There's the ring."
"Oh how romantic! A ring! Is it beautiful ?"
"I think so..."
"Let's see it. No, don't get up. On your knees like you are, reach over, open the box and present it to me properly."
So I did. She took it like due homage, and put it on her own finger. "Nice." she said.
"There's... there's..."
"There's what ?"
"There's more." and without another word I reached into the jacket pocket and retrieved the other box. I presented it the same way, and she laughed and laughed. She had the most beautiful laughter, lilting and feminine. None of those big, coarse HA!s. I hate those.
She wasted no time fastening it on my purple, painful, abused genitals, and then commented that this is just beautiful, she'll keep the keys and my only hope of ever seeing the light again is through getting Messallina to bring me along with her sometime. This made perfect sense to me, and I was absorbed in the reverie of it while she rifled through my jacket pockets as it lay there, slung over the backrest. She found... oh my god... she found... I always carry a tin of vaporub. I need it for... things. Medical things. Like when I need to feel my cock catching on fire.

Tonight I had with me an almost full package of Extra Strong, Triple Action, Intensive Care formulation. In retrospect not such a bright idea, as she wasted no time in emptying it. She delicatedly coated my balls in a layer so thick you could actually see it, and then, for disposing of the last gobblet, she ordered me feet up on the chair opposite and mercilessly shoved two fingers coated in the gelatinous lava up my asshole. I'd be a liar if I tried to claim I never put anything ever up there by myself, but nothing really ever this big, and besides I didn't really know what I was doing. She, however, knew very well, and after a few short minutes of my cock trying desperately but hopelessly to burst through its steel cage, I splooged again. It wasn't really pleasurable in any sense, but it did make the needles stop for just one brief, short moment. Messallina showed up again, her breasts beet red continuing along her chest and all the way up to her neck, her nipples visibly irritated.

"They tipped me eight hundred and forty three dollars, ma'am. They said, ten percent of the bill and a hundred dollars from each of them." Then after a pause, "Do you take a check ?"
"Yes, but only in round numbers."
"What d..." started Messallina, but then she stopped with realisation, reached into her purse and wrote a thousand dollar check, tits dangling freely over the table as she did it.
"They also wanted me to call them two cabs, or a shuttle."
"Don't they have that Hummer van thing outside ?"
"They said they're too drunk to drive."
"So go back there and tell them that the house will be happy to provide a driver, at no charge. Point to the white boy here when you say it. Then tell them that of course you and me we'd join them in the back for entertainment if they want." Then she turned to me, "you can drive, can't you sweetie ?" I nodded.

The solution was evidently acceptable to the inebriated patrons, as they wasted no time in gathering all around us. I had to ask Valery if I may wear pants in their drunken hoots and hollers, but she shook her head no, and then told them "don't worry about peckerwood here, he's fixed". They found this the height of comedy. As we filed out past the bouncer Valery said "You close up, kay Bob ?", barefoot just like me, her shoes in her hand. He nodded, and next thing I know I was putting the car into drive just as Messallina and Valery were each straddling one guy. They peeled off Valery's jeans first. She fastened her shoes back on, then pressed her see-through panties against some guy's face. Messallina was kneeling on the seat facing back, her face pressed against the partition into my cabin. Valery undid her jeans just as two different guys were taking off her shoes, then they pushed her face down and to the side making her butt bulge out obscenely and pressed the privacy button. I drove in silence to the indicated suburban mansion, and by the time the last echoes of the mentholation were dying off we were pulling into the driveway.