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Haircut at Madam Twon's, Part VI
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
HAIRCUT AT TWON'S (VI)
by Art Miyako
We left what I'll call the "dungeon room" and the five corpses it now contained and
entered a completely dark hallway. The door slammed shut behind us.
"Look, can you give me a _hint_ about why you're doing this? Anything?", I asked
Wei Ping, even though I couldn't see her. There was no reply. I asked again; still,
Wei Ping didn't say a word. "How about some light, then? I don't want to..."
As if in response, a door about five feet ahead of me and to my right swung open,
flooding the short corridor with light. I could now see another door across the hall
from that one, and yet another at the end of the hall, five feet or so further down.
Standing in the doorway was a thick-waisted figure, and as my eyes rapidly
adjusted to the change from the darkness before, I could make out the woman
who'd sold me my ticket earlier. I'd never seen her pass by me; how had she
gotten here? And, for that matter, where had Wei Ping gone?
"Ah, Mr. Miyako," she said, "please to come this way." Somehow, it didn't seem
right to be exposed before this matronly figure, and I instinctively reached down
and covered my pubic region. "Mr. Miyako, please to not be doing that. You are
not yet indispensable, and I have gun." I could see that she was telling the truth as
she leveled a revolver at my chest. I proceeded as quickly toward her as my
swollen balls would allow.
I entered the room and she closed the door behind us. The place was a sparsely
decorated office, with the only nonfunctional item being a large jade symbol of the
same sort that Wei Ping had been wearing about her neck. "Please to have a seat,
Mr. Miyako.", she said, pointing her gun toward a wicker chair a couple of feet
across from a mahogany desk. Again, I obeyed. It seemed that obedience was the
key to survival in this particular "barber shop."
The woman sat down behind the desk and asked me, "So, Mr. Miyako, how you like
haircut?", and smiled a broad grin. "To be perfectly honest, I don't." She laughed
a most harsh, unpleasant laugh. "No matter," she stated, "we no give refund here."
She laughed again, and the sound was like nails grating on a blackboard to me.
"I am sure you wonder what happening here," she began, "and I will give answer. I
show you. First, I must ask you questions. Please to be honest. You have VD?"
"No, I no have VD.", I answered sarcastically.
"Mr. Miyako, no be nasty, or I shoot you. Thank you. When was last time you have
sex?"
"It was before I came here, I mean to San Francisco. About three months ago."
"Thank you. You jerk since you come here?", she inquired.
Flustered by the question, I responded "No." She pointed her gun at me, and said,
"You lying, Mr. Miyako. I know. When you last jerk off?"
"OK, OK, fine, no sense lying to a mind reader. About five days ago."
"Thank you. I no mind reader. I know truth when I hear. You like girl with big tits,
yes?"
"Yes," I responded sheepishly.
"That good, that fine. No more question."
She stood up and walked around between me and the desk, and said, "Mr. Miyako,
I am Madame Twon. I no own my place, but my name on sign because I serve
queen of Pyen-Yang-Lon. You here for her. You want meet her?"
"No," I replied, "I'd rather just have my money back and leave."
Again came the harsh laugh. "Mr. Miyako, you foolish. Even if I give you money,
where you put it? No pockets!" At this, she reached down and began playing with
my naked pecker. I was revolted, but the gun in her hand kept me from acting on
my feeling. I sat perfectly still as she gently fondled my aching penis.
"Are you going to let me cum now?", I asked.
"No, Mr. Miyako, that only for queen. But I do have surprise for you!" The last
sentence she practically squealed with delight as she turned and opened a carved
lacquer box on her desk, producing what I can only call a large suppository. "Stand
please, Mr. Miyako, and turn around and touch toes." I didn't like the sound of this,
but it seemed like a better option to have something shoved into an already existing
hole than to have another one added to my anatomy. I did as I was told.
"Fine, fine," she breathed, and then said, "Must lubricate so it go in smooth. No
want this breaking." I felt heavy breath against my ass momentarily, and then a
hot, wet tongue was pressed against my asshole, tracing circles over my sphincter.
When this ceased, I felt the suppository slide in. I winced a bit at the pain of it,
which was replaced almost immediately by an icy feeling which rapidly spread from
my anus to my groin. I felt something in my balls that I'd never felt before, a
sensation like a balloon expanding. I looked down at my groin and I could have
sworn that they actually were getting slightly larger.
"Mr. Miyako, please to stand up and turn around facing me." As soon as she gave
the order, I did so. There was no thought involved; my body simply followed the
command with no conscious intervention at all. It was as if Madame Twon had
taken control of my will.
She told me to step away from the chair, and as I automatically did so, she undid a
button at the waistband of her long skirt, letting it fall to the floor and stepping out of
it. She wasn't wearing any underwear. Her dimpled, flabby thighs quivered in the
light, with a thick thatch of salt-and-pepper pubic hair at their juncture. Her sagging
ass drooped behind. "You like?", she asked. I couldn't even think fast enough to
stop the word "Yes" from emerging from my mouth. She nodded her head and put
down the gun. She then hoisted herself up so that she was sitting on her desk, and
spread her thighs wide apart, until they were nearly parallel to the edge of the
desktop. She spread her rubbery pussy lips apart, revealing the biggest clit I'd
ever seen anywhere. It was perhaps two inches long, and as thick as my index
finger. "You eat me now.", she said.
I, of course, literally couldn't resist the offer. I knelt before her and poked out my
tongue, licking the pinkish-brown flesh. There was a fragrance like cinnamon.
This, at least, was a saving grace. She wriggled her ass on the desk and leaned
back, resting her considerable weight on her hands behind her. Unable to control
my actions, I licked and sucked at her hairy hole. Her clit was becoming swollen.
She whispered harshly in some Asian language as I lapped up her juice. Even if I
couldn't understand her speech now, somehow my mouth new what to do. I moved
up to the top of her crack and began sucking her huge nub, moving my head back
and forth as if I were giving her a blowjob. She loved it and made no attempt to
hide the fact. She pushed her hips off the desktop and into my face, and I
supported her flaccid ass with both my hands. It felt very much like grabbing a
sack of oatmeal, but my preferences in women were not a question here. I couldn't
stop sucking on that tremendous clitoris. She leaked syrup into my mouth, down
my chin, onto the desk. She shoved herself harder and harder against my mouth,
gyrating her hips against my face as she thrust her swollen little clit/penis at me. I
just kept sucking and sucking. In my mind, I couldn't wait for this to be over, but my
body wasn't listening at all.
I felt a sharp sensation in my balls at this point. Madame Twon let her weight down
onto her back, and I moved one hand from her ass and reached down to feel my
aching, and now cold, testicles. A shock wave went through my mind; they _were_
getting larger. Much larger. They hung about an inch lower than I remembered
them, and had swollen to the size of golf balls. "Mr. Miyako," she breathed, "take
hand away from cock, please." I removed my hand and grabbed her ass with it
again, involuntarily kneading the squishy flesh.
Madame Twon's clit had gotten much bigger as I sucked on it. It felt as if it were
three inches long now in my mouth. Her yielding labia stretched to their limit as I
shoved the entire lower half of my face against her box, so that I had her entire
clitoris in my mouth to its base. I simply sucked on it now and flicked my tongue
around its tip. This finally did the trick. Madame Twon screamed brazenly as she
came, sending pulses of hot juice against my face. She came like a horse, and it
went on for a couple of minutes. Finally, I was allowed to remove my face from her
middle-aged cunt.
She lay there for a moment, seeming to enjoy the afterglow of her tremendous
orgasm. After a few moments, she stood up and put her skirt back on. The feeling
of cold in my groin continued, as did the feeling of expanding.
"Mr. Miyako," she giggled, look down at yourself." I again did as I was
commanded. My nuts were absolutely bloated. My scrotum hung down about 4"
below my crotch, and my balls themselves must have been three inches across
_each_. Above my exaggerated testicles hung a twitching erection that was now at
least nine inches long. What _had_ this woman done to me? Aside from the
feeling of nearly-numbing cold, there was also the impression that I had about a
pint of cum stored in my swollen testes.
"You almost ready now. I show you one more thing," she said, "and then we go
see queen. She decide what we do with you."
(more to follow)
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