
The network buzzed with Laura’s name now, a relentless hum that drowned out everything else. Her debut had turned heads, and the execs, practically drooling over the ratings, handed her the prime time slot. More screen time, a bigger spotlight, everything she could want. They paired her with a co anchor named Alice, a sleek blonde with a voice smooth as velvet and eyes sharp enough to slice through steel.
I should’ve been in the control room that first night, calling the shots like always, but instead I lay strapped beneath Laura’s custom anchor desk, my head braced against the padded platform she’d dubbed her throne. Her bare ass pressed heavy on my face, crushing my nose flat against her skin, and I wondered how I’d let it come to this. My wrists were bound tight to the bench, keeping me still as the studio thrummed with pre show chaos, lights flaring, cameras gliding into position, crew shouting over the hum of equipment. I’d built this empire, and now I was its floor, my pride buried under her weight.
Laura shifted slightly, her dress rustling as she settled in. A silent fart slipped out, hot and sour, searing my lungs. “Eat it. Keep me sharp,” she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the teleprompter’s drone. I swallowed it, the gas bitter on my tongue, clinging to my throat as she launched into the headlines. Her ass cheeks clamped tighter around my face, pinning me in place, but through the narrow gap between her legs, I caught fleeting glimpses of Alice. She stood beside Laura, shimmering in a tailored suit, her blonde hair catching the studio lights. Her smile was polished, poised, but her eyes flickered with something hard, something that didn’t match the warmth in her voice. I couldn’t see much, just snatches of her face, her hands gesturing smoothly as she read her lines.
During a lull between segments, Laura adjusted her position, lifting slightly to scratch her thigh. For a split second, my view cleared, and I saw Alice’s gaze dart downward, toward the desk. Toward me. Her eyes narrowed, just a flicker, before she snapped back to the camera, her smile unwavering. My chest tightened, a cold sweat prickling my skin. Had she seen me? The custom bench was low, designed to hide me, but that look lodged in my mind like a splinter. I couldn’t be sure, not with Laura’s weight slamming back down, another fart blasting into my mouth. “Swallow it,” she whispered, grinding harder as I choked it down, my thoughts spinning. I’d wanted to make her a star, but now I was her secret, and maybe Alice’s too. The broadcast ended without incident, a hit by all accounts, but that glance from Alice gnawed at me, a quiet threat I couldn’t shake.
Backstage afterward, the air grew thick with something heavier. I stumbled out of Laura’s dressing room after her usual post show ritual, my face flushed, my throat raw from her latest stream, my body trembling from the weight of her control. She’d kept me under her longer than usual, her voice a low taunt as I’d licked her clean after she’d pissed, the taste sharp and humiliating. “You’re mine, don’t you forget that.”
I hadn’t even caught my breath when Alice blocked my path, her shadow stretching across the prop room doorway. One stiletto tapped the floor, impatient and menacing. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest. I froze, my mind racing. That look she had on air…had she really seen me?
“So you’re what makes her glow, huh?” Alice’s voice slithered out, sharp and mocking, her lips curling into a sneer. “Laura’s little pet, groveling under her ass.” I opened my mouth to respond, but she stepped forward before I could speak. She grabbed me by my hair and dragged me into the prop room. She shut the door behind us and threw me down on the floor against a crate of props.
Her heel slammed into my chest, pinning me against a stack of crates. The leather tip dug into my chest, forcing a gasp from my lungs. My hands scrabbled at the rough wood behind me, useless against her pressure. “I saw you under there, squirming like a rat,” she said, her smirk widening as my face paled. “Let’s see why she thinks she’s the queen. Lick my heel clean. Suck it like you’re begging for me.”
I wrapped my lips around her heel, the taste hit me hard, bitter leather mixed with gritty studio dust and a faint tang of sweat from her day on set. I gagged as my tongue scraped over the pointed end, but she pressed harder, bruising my tongue with the force. “Do it right, or I’ll break your teeth,” bursa escort she snapped, twisting the heel until it scraped my tongue.
I obeyed, sucking the tip, my lips trembling under the strain while she smirked down at me. She pulled the heel out and kicked the shoe off with a flick of her ankle, then stood over me, straddling my chest. Her bare foot, warm and damp, calloused from hours in those heels, slammed onto my face. “Lick my feet, clean every toe. Make them spotless,” she ordered. Her toes wiggled as I licked between them, the salty sweat coating my tongue, bitter and overwhelming. I hated how my body obeyed, how my pride crumbled under her, just like with Laura. Was this who I was now, just a thing to be claimed?
Alice stepped back, then without warning sat on my face with her full weight, hiking her skirt up with a casual tug. Her bare ass settled heavy on me, crushing my nose against her skin. Completely covering my face with her perky cheeks.
PPPffffbbt!
A sharp, hot fart blasted straight into my lungs. “Swallow it. Show me how good you are,” she said, grinding her ass down harder as I choked. The acrid gas overwhelmed my senses, and I forced it down, my chest warm from the gas, heaving under her weight. She laughed, a cold, slicing sound that echoed in the cramped space. “Laura’s got nothing on me. You’re mine now, and she’ll cry when she finds out.” She stood, brushing her skirt smooth, leaving me sprawled on the floor, dazed and panting. Her scent clung to me like a brand, sharp and inescapable, as her footsteps faded down the hall. I lay there, my mind a mess. Laura had reshaped me into her tool, but now Alice wanted a piece, and I couldn’t tell if I was more afraid or ashamed.
Moments later, footsteps cut through the haze, Laura’s heels clicking sharp and furious on the tile. She burst into the prop room, her eyes locking onto me sprawled there, Alice’s discarded stiletto still wet with my spit beside me. “You let her touch you?” she roared, her voice a whip that cracked the air. I flinched, my heart pounding. She’d built me up as her director, her kingmaker, and now I was a rag on the floor, marked by another woman. She grabbed me by the collar and yanked me to my feet. “You’re mine, and I don’t tolerate thieves.” She dragged me into the dressing room, her grip bruising my neck. The door slammed shut behind us, and she shoved me down to the floor, ripping off her pumps with a savage flick of her wrist. Her bare foot slammed onto my face, sweaty and rough from the night’s broadcast. “Clean it. Scrub the filth off me, prove it that you are mine alone,” she commanded, grinding her sole over my mouth until I was sucking her toes, tasting the faint tang from earlier mixed with her sweat. I obeyed, but inside I was burned and humiliated. How had I fallen so far, and why did it feel like I belonged here?
She didn’t let me catch my breath. Laura straddled my face, pinning my head to the plush leather chair with her thighs clamping tight around my skull.
PPPPffffrrrbst!
A long, wet fart erupted, the sound muffled by her dress but the heat blasting my face like a furnace. “Swallow it up. Prove you’re loyal to me,” she growled, rocking her hips to smother me deeper into her ass. I choked it down, the bitter taste coating my tongue, thick and rancid. She tilted her head back, her eyes glinting with fierce possessiveness. A warm stream followed, her piss flowing slow and deliberate, flooding my mouth. “Drink it. Every drop. You’re my property,” she said, her voice steel edged. I gulped, the sharp salt burning my throat, and flinched as it spilled down my chin. She lifted slightly, glaring down at me. “Lick me clean. Wipe me dry with your tongue,” she ordered, and I did, my tongue scraping her skin, the taste sharp and humiliating as I cleaned her thoroughly.
Her heel shot down, slamming into my balls with a thud that sent pain exploding through me, my vision blurring at the edges. “No slip ups. You’re my throne, not that slut’s toy,” she hissed, massaging her bare foot over my face again, forcing me to lick between her toes while she leaned closer. “Alice thinks she can steal you? She’s a cheap knockoff. I’ll break her before she gets close.”
She stayed there, her weight unrelenting, her breath hot against my ear as she spoke again. “So she saw you under me? Good. Let her squirm. She’ll never own you like I do. You’re my creation, my anchor, and I’ll bury her in your devotion.” bursa eskort My head spun, my body trembling under her, her words sinking into me like claws. I’d given her everything, my career, my dignity, and now she was fighting to keep it, but Alice’s shadow loomed larger every second. Alice had lit a fuse, and Laura was ready to burn everything down to keep me hers. The next night’s broadcast loomed ahead, a battlefield waiting to erupt, and I wondered how much more I could take before I shattered completely, before I forgot who I’d been.
The studio thrummed with preshow chaos, lights flaring to life, cameras gliding into position, crew shouting over the hum of equipment. Laura and Alice stood side by side at the new dual anchor desk, a sleek monstrosity with a low bench hidden beneath, custom built to hold me in place.
I lay strapped across it, my head braced at one end, my torso and legs stretched out toward the other. My wrists were bound tight with leather cuffs, keeping me immobile. I’d built this world, directed its chaos, and now I was their prisoner, a slab of meat for their war. My name used to mean something, but now it was just a grunt under their weight, a sound swallowed by their ambition.
Laura slid in first, her dress rustling as she slightly lifted her short dress and settled her bare ass onto my face. The familiar weight pressed my nose flat against her skin. “Stay still,” she muttered, her voice a whisper beneath the teleprompter’s steady drone. A silent fart slipped out, hot and sour, searing my lungs as it filled my mouth. “Eat it. Help me get in my zone,” she ordered, and I swallowed, the gas bitter on my tongue, clinging to my throat. I hated how automatic it felt now, how my body bent to her will without question, as if I’d never been anything else.
Alice took her spot next, straddling my torso. Her skirt brushed my waist as she sank down. Her hand snaked lower, grabbing my balls through my pants and squeezing hard. I jolted from the quick and sharp sting, my body twitching under Laura, a muffled grunt escaping into her ass. Laura’s ass cheeks flexed and tightened around my nose and face, pinning me harder, her composure unshaken as she launched into the headlines.
Her voice flowed smooth as silk, betraying nothing.
Pfffrrrsssstt!
“Inhale it quickly,” she whispered mid sentence, letting another fart rip, longer and wetter this time. Alice twisted her grip around my balls, smirking as I squirmed beneath them both. I felt trapped, split between them, my pride a distant memory as their rivalry carved me up like a carcass, my body a canvas for their hate.
“Lick my toes. Show me you’re mine even when you’re under her,” Alice hissed, kicking off her stiletto with a flick of her ankle. She angled her bare foot toward my mouth from below the table, her toes rough and sweaty from the day. She slid it to my mouth barely hanging out of Laura’s heavy ass cheeks and her toes jammed between my open lips. I licked frantically, sucking the sweat and dirt from her toes as she kept her weight on my torso, her hand still clamped around my balls.
Laura countered, shifting to press harder and bury my face even deeper in her ass. Alice scoffed under her breath and pulled her foot back, still maintaining her steely smile for the cameras. Suddenly a quick trickle of piss began leaking into my mouth. “Drink it quietly,” Laura murmured, her tone steady as she segued into a weather report. I gulped the salty, acrid liquid down, the warmth sliding down my throat, my chest burning as Alice’s fingers tightened again, making me fidget under Laura’s unrelenting weight. Laura shifted slightly, landing her pussy right on my mouth, her voice sharp. “Lick me clean. Get every drop,” she ordered, and I did, my tongue scraping her skin, wiping her dry as the taste lingered, sharp and degrading.
They pulled me between them, Laura’s ass on my face dragging my head one way, Alice’s grip on my balls yanking my body the other, each trying to out dominate the other. Alice slid forward slightly, farting sharply onto my stomach. Sending a rumbling wave across my chest, smell strong enough to reach my nose under Laura’s ass, the gas mixing with Laura’s in my lungs as I choked. Laura retaliated, pissing again, a steady stream this time. “Swallow it all. Show its her you’re loyal to me,” she whispered, her voice cutting through the broadcast’s hum. She landed her pussy in my mouth again, sending a quick glare my way. “Lick me clean. Prove I’m your only queen,” she ordered, and I did.
I was drowning, their scents and tastes blending into a haze, my mind screaming for air I’d never get, my body a traitor that obeyed despite it all.
A commercial break hit, and Laura stood, stepping away to adjust her mic with a courteous nod to the crew. Alice seized the moment, her hands darting to the straps binding me. “Now you’re mine,” she snapped, flipping me on the bench with a rough tug so my head braced under her end instead. She sat fast, her bare ass slamming onto my face, her thighs locking me in place.
PPPPFFFRRRBBBLLTT!
A loud fart blasted, wet and hot, filling my mouth. “Swallow it. I’m better than her,” she said, rocking her hips to smother me as I gagged, the taste overwhelming my senses. She tilted my head back, pissing a quick, aggressive burst. “Gulp it down. Let’s show her I own you,” she ordered. I drank, choking as it spilled over my lips. I felt her triumph, a weight heavier than Laura’s, and it terrified me. What had I unleashed by letting her in?
Laura returned, her eyes blazing at the switch. “Get off him, you second rate hack,” she hissed, her voice a low growl that vibrated with rage. “He’s mine, and you’re embarrassing yourself.” Alice smirked, staying seated. “He’s gagging on my farts, Laura. He’s picking me over you.”
Laura’s jaw tightened, her hands flexing at her sides. “Picking you? You’re a wannabe stealing scraps. He’s my property.”
Alice laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. “Scraps? He’s drinking my piss like it’s the sweetest juice. You’re yesterday’s news.” The break ended, and Laura slid back onto my torso, her weight furious, but Alice stayed on my face for the rest of the broadcast. Laura’s hand gripped my balls now, squeezing hard as Alice farted again. “Swallow it. Show her I’m your queen,” Alice whispered, while Laura hissed, “Squirm for me. Prove you’re still mine.” Their smiles stayed razor sharp on air, but Laura seethed beneath her composure, her anger a fire I could feel through her grip. I was hers first, but Alice’s hold tightened, and I wondered if I’d survive their war or if I’d already lost myself to it forever.
The dressing room door slammed shut, and the real fight erupted. Laura grabbed my hair, dragging me to the leather chair with a force that yanked my scalp. Alice followed close behind, her heels clicking like a predator stalking prey. I’d been their director once, their boss, but now I was a toy they fought over, my body a battlefield for their egos. My name used to open doors; now it was a grunt under their weight, and I hated how it felt like home, how I’d started to crave the crush of their control.
“He’s mine,” Laura snarled, pulling me under her and straddling my face, landing hard. A wet fart erupted, the sound echoing in the small room. “Swallow it all. Prove you’re loyal to me,” she growled, grinding her ass down on my face with fury.
Alice stepped forward, grabbing my arm and yanking me from Laura. “You’re pathetic, Laura, clinging to him like a has been,” she sneered, pulling me under her and sitting on my face with equal force.
Pffffffrrrrtttt!
Her fart came sharp and piercing, blasting into my lungs. “Swallow my gas. Prove you want me more,” she said, rocking her cheeks to smother me. I hated how they owned me, how their rivalry turned me into a rag, but my body kept obeying, a traitor to the man I used to be.
Laura lunged back, pulling me by the hair. “You think you can snatch him, you desperate leech?” she spat, dragging me under her again. Another fart ripped out, loud and wet. “Eat it. Prove I’m your real queen,” she said, pressing down harder as I choked it down. “Lick my asshole clean. Prove I own you,” she ordered, and I licked, my tongue dragging across her crack and around her hole. Alice shoved Laura’s shoulder. “Own him? He loves choking on my farts, Laura. He’s choosing me.” Laura shoved back. “Choosing you? He’s licking my ass like it’s his favorite dessert. You’re just a small time distraction.”
They tugged me between them, Laura slamming her soles onto my face, Alice forcing her heels into my mouth, each kicking my balls when I faltered. “Swallow harder for me,” Laura barked, farting again. “He’s addicted to my taste,” she taunted Alice. “Gulp mine deeper,” Alice countered, pissing fast. “He’s begging for mine,” she shot back. My tongue ached, my lungs burned, my balls throbbed, but their rivalry raged on, taunts flying as they pulled me apart. I was breaking, piece by piece, and they didn’t care. Just two queens fighting over a crumbling throne, their voices carving me into nothing but their tool.
To be continued…