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Shortly before the next meeting was due, Sandra received a phone call from Mandy, who asked her to come to Anne's house half an hour early. 'I want to talk to you before it starts,' was all she would say. 'I've arranged it. Is that OK?' Sandra said yes to the invitation.
She wondered about it, however.
Toward the end of the last meeting, Mandy's man had begun behaving oddly: his hands had begun clenching and unclenching, lifting slightly and then flopping back down.
'Yes,' Mandy had said to the group, 'he's being disobedient. Fidgeting around when he knows his duty is to remain still when sat on.' Mandy glanced down at his face, which remained blank.
'I can't really get angry though,' she continued. 'It's just him getting desperate. I just go on getting heavier and he's lost a little more condition. And he gets sat on more and more. Anne sends me slaves to do the housework that he used to do, which was his main excuse to get out of being squashed.'
'Is the latest guy still working out OK?' asked Anne.
'Yeah, you're fantastic.'
'No, thank you. For road testing them. I have any number of males eager to do house-slavery for a woman like you. It's their quality I can't guarantee.'
'Do you think your partner is jealous of these new slaves?' Sandra inquired. Mandy shook her head.
'They might feel jealous of him. I wouldn't know. Anyway, the whole reason for the slaves is to release my man from housework so he can be sat on even more.' She took a gulp of coffee.
As Mandy was speaking, Anne sent her own man over to Sandra. He handed her a photograph. Sandra glanced over to Anne in acknowledgement; Anne smiled and raised an eyebrow. The photo was of Mandy sitting on her partner, hands on her thighs, elbows out: she appeared rather determined and grim, without the complacency that was habitual to her nowadays. The man's lostness, on the other hand, was familiar to Sandra. They both looked a lot younger: she was plump and curvaceous rather than fat, while compared to today he seemed almost solidly built. Sandra cast her eye over their present day selves.
'Your partner doesn't go to work, does he?'
'He stays home. He quit his job for me. Six years ago he sold everything he had and handed all his money over to me. I can live off what he earnt and invested.'
'Lucky thing. What did he do?'
'He was a lecturer in something.'
'In...?'
'I don't remember.'
'She does remember,' Anne said. 'And he was an Emeritus Professor.'
'It's not important,' Mandy said. Yeah, desperate,' she went on. 'Frantic. Of course I don't get off him when he twitches and acts up like that. I talk him through it, redirect his energies from futile fidgeting onto me and my pleasure, as per standard practice in these situations.
'The point is that I think he's only focussing on me about 90% of the time. That's my guess. The relationship is ready to move on, I want to make a serious attempt at a 100% focus.'
'He would definitely be happier that way,' Anne said.
'I'm going to squash that last ten percent out of him.'
At the end of the meeting, Mandy's man had fainted soon after standing up: he twirled for a moment as though beginning a dance, and then fell flat on the floor.
'That's an act,' Mandy said at once. 'He'll be sat on more than ever for that.'
'How is his general health?' Sandra asked.
'Mandy and I had him checked out. A bit of internal bruising,' Kath put in. 'Nothing major. We suspect the bruising was just from me bouncing on him.'
Anne helped him to his feet a few moments later. Nothing more was said of the incident.
It had stayed in Sandra's mind, though. She noted that none of the other women had supported Mandy's explanation of his collapse. On the other hand, they hadn't shown any concern about him either.
Answers may soon follow, Sandra thought, as she went up to Anne's front door, followed by her own man.
Kath's partner let them in. Mandy and Kath were waiting in the loungeroom. At first Kath was not on her partner, who was unobtrusively bringing in trays of refreshments. His 'invisibilty' once again intrigued and stimulated Sandra: she marked how Kath rarely looked at him, how she took a drink from his hand without acknowledgement and without breaking the flow of her conversation. But when he had finished his work he knelt by her couch. She rose for a moment, he lay on the couch, and she sat on him.
And as Sandra had expected, Mandy's thighs were spread over her man in her usual position. He appeared to be back to his normal quiescent self.
'I never once got off him during any of those bouts of twitching,' Mandy said proudly. 'He hasn't done any twitching and fideting for three days. I think it was all an act. But I've broken the resistance. I've reached a new level of domination. I've won the latest round, just like all the earlier ones. He's thoroughly squashed.'
'And your relationship continues to get closer and deeper,' Sandra said.
'And,' Mandy added, 'he's just voluntarily reduced his free time to three twenty-minute breaks a day. He has to fit in all his physical needs, including all his eating and drinking, within those times.'
'Often you find,' Kath said, leaning forward on her own man, 'that after a phase of resistance you enter a period of very sweet compliance, when your man is full of apologies to you and gratitude that you didn't give way to his disobedience. Those compliant phases are a real opportunity to crush him down to a new level of submission. You can create new precedents and standards and expectations.'
'Kath's playing more of a role now, in my relationship,' Mandy said. 'The thing is, I've reached a point where any more sitting on my partner would interfere with the rest of my life. I mean, when you're sitting on your man you can eat, read, talk, chat online, watch TV, but there's plenty of other things to do and I'm beginning to find all my time on him a bit confining.'
'And the other thing is, any more time on him and I'd start to get pressure sores. That would be very distressing to him. He can't bear the thought of my feeling any discomfort.
But he needs to be sat on more not less. So Kath's been taking my place.'
'I'm there as Mandy's proxy,' Kath said, 'not as a second lover. When I'm on him I do everything Mandy's way now, sitting still rather than bouncing, and full weight on his stomach and chest. And I don't speak much.'
'I'm not like the other women in the group,' Mandy said to Sandra. 'As a general rule I don't fill my man's head with talk. When we're alone together there are long silences. I find my dominion is purer that way. I just cover his mind entirely with the experience of my weight. Steady, ongoing, at the limit of what he can take, and there all the time.'
'Does he ever complain of aches and pains?' Sandra asked.
'Yeah. Well no, I wouldn't say complain but he mentions them. Up to a point I can use them as a way to keep him focussed. But beyond a certain point pain interferes, it turns his attention away from me onto himself. So I'll move position now and then to reduce his aches. I go onto his neck and head a bit more, maybe do some smothering. It's my weight I want him to feel - me - not physical pain.'
Mandy slapped her thighs. 'Anyway, I want to stretch for a while. Do you want to have a try of my man?' she asked Sandra.
'I'd love to!' Sandra found herself saying.
'Come over.'
Mandy did not stir. Sandra guessed that she wanted to minimise the interval in which her partner was without a woman on him, so she swung onto him just as Mandy was standing up, using the method she had seen employed by Kath.
'Quite well done,' Kath remarked.
'Kath and I will go find Anne,' Mandy said. 'Can we take your man with us?'
'By all means,' Sandra said. He followed them from the room.
Leaving Sandra alone with Mandy's partner.
Since meeting him, Sandra had wondered what he would be like beneath her. As it turned out, she was unprepared for just how much smaller, thinner and frailer he felt than her own man - and she was unprepared for its affect on her. As soon as she sank into him, noticeably flattening his stomach and chest, she experienced her own ass, thighs, hips, her whole body, in a new way. She felt wonderfully good about her flesh. Any remaining embarassment at having a big body was gone, it was a million miles away. She did feel a residual guilt about what she was doing, but it was almost immediately overcome by a powerful and raw desire to continue sitting. And suddenly she looked forward to fattening up further.
Yes, she was unprepared for the sheer amount of pleasure she was feeling. Where was it from? The man, of course. It was as if she were drawing up his energy, his vital life force, into herself, storing it within herself as a feeling of pure wellbeing. And she was feeding something back to him. She was not returning the vitality he had surrendered to her. She was giving him something else entirely: an inescapable, torrential, ecstacy-inducing onslaught of herself - not as Sandra, not as a proxy-Mandy, but as Woman.
She felt the faint lift of his ribcage under her full weight. His chest was barely managing to push up the heavy, complacent flesh of her thighs, was only just managing to supply oxygen to his body. So close to complete loss of air, and thus potentially the loss of life, he was passing through an overwhelming experience of her with every breath. Now and then she saw the minute stirrings of his fingers, or heard the very faint sound of his breath.
She closed her eyes, returning to the contemplation of herself and the man under her, the different strands of their engagement. In his earlier years his life must have held many different experiences, tastes, satisfactions; now he subsisted purely on Woman. Yes, adoration of Woman was there, in both of them, she as Goddess he as supplicant. But intertwined with the adoration was suffering. If he did not suffer there would be no sacrifice, no offering up of himself, no bond, no true connection. His suffering, and her awareness of it, formed the channel through which she drew up his life forces into herself.
She imagined the contradiction within him - on the one hand, there was his hunger for her and his longing to please her; on the other, there was his desperation to escape back to former freedoms, or simply to breathe again. The contradiction paralysed him. She, the woman above him, was not paralysed. She was able to decide whether to continue their engagement or to free him, and she continually made the decision to stay sitting on him. It was all so delicious.
Experimentally she leant forward a little, shifting some of the pressure on him from her bottom to her thighs. She felt him squishing under her, felt his breath forced out. She shifted her weight back onto her bottom.
At that moment Mandy and Kath returned with and Anne. They startled Sandra, so deep was she in her own reverie and her exploration of contact.
She could not afterwards recall the small talk that went on at this point. She remembered her reluctance to get off Mandy's man. But most of all she remembered the moment when Mandy herself once again sank onto him.
It had seemed to Sandra a miracle that he was able to endure her own weight; Mandy was a great deal heavier. And this went on all the time! He was quite simply her pancake. Now that Mandy had had her break, she was likely to remain on him for hours.
'Well, did you like him?' Mandy asked.
Sandra found that she could not reply, and was alarmed by the strength of the feelings flowing through her.
'When I was first on him,' Kath said, 'I must admit to wanting him for myself. It's a waste of time Sandra. He thinks of Mandy and only Mandy. So we can all relax about that.'
'Yes. Yes,' was all Sandra could say.
'But what we would like,' Mandy said, 'is for you to play a support role along with Kath. She can't spare me any more time, and like I say, I really want him sat on a lot more.'
'I'll do it,' Sandra said.
'Thought you would. You'll need to put on more weight, that's all.'
'One thing I do feel after sitting on your man,' Sandra said - she actually felt almost drunk now, and was emboldened by Kath's swift, shrewd and reassuring summary of the situation she was in - 'is a great store of bitchiness that I'll discharge on my own unsuspecting partner.'
'We left him scrubbing the kitchen floor,' said Anne.
'It can wait. I'll store it up for later.'
'Bitching is recommended,' Anne went on, 'You should be completely relaxed about it. In fact it's very important for your emotional health.'
'Yes, never feel guilty about it,' Gillian added, as she came down the steps from the hall followed by her man, for it was now time for the official meeting to start. 'Leave guilt behind.'
Gillian still wore her driving glasses. Momentarily Sandra was glad to see something detracting from Gillian's conventionally perfect face - but then she felt annoyed with herself for such disloyalty. After all, every form of womanly beauty was given equal recognition within the group.
'And forget "bitch" as an insult,' Anne added. It's never used as an insult within our group.'
'Bitching is a healthy transference from you to your partner,' Gillian said. 'By making them so emotionally dependent on us we've also made them very open to the impact of bitching. You'll find you can make your man feel wretched very easily and quickly.'
'It shouldn't be reduced to a game where he never feels pain, either. You should draw blood every time,' Anne said.
'It's for the release of your stress,' said Gillian. 'To purify yourself. When you're stressed toxins build up in your body. Good bitching means you create stress in him. You'll find that very soothing. So your toxins dissipate just as his are building up. What it amounts to is a direct discharge of all your emotional waste products into him. Into his body.'
'And when you feel like it you can lift him up again into the happiness of your approval,' said Jacqui, who had also just arrived. 'You can use your power to raise him to the heights of happiness. But only when you feel like it.'
'Bitching is just one more form of suffering they have to experience from us,' Gillian said, 'so that we can provide them with the special serene joy of submission through total focus on their woman.'
'Yes I'm sometimes jealous of that joy,' Anne said.
'What can you do, the grass is always greener,' said Kath.
'I wouldn't exchange the pleasure of squashing down my man for anything in this world,' Mandy said.
'But getting back to the point,' said Anne '- we're meant to be teaching something to Sandra! Look, millions and millions of women bitch at their men every single day. But combining it with physical acts, like the act of prolongued sitting and squashing, makes bitching so much more complete and powerful.'
It's especially therapeutic when you're just home from work,' Kath added. 'Lie him down, sit on him, bitch at him, discharge the day's frustrations.'
'You talked about emotional waste,' Sandra said.
'Oh, and physical,' Anne replied at once. 'Don't feel restrained! We often give our men golden showers. I have a bathroom set up for it here.'
'We often do it before and after going out with them, to dinner, say,' said Jacqui. 'And when we go out in a group we tend to use each other's men, for variety. It's often done in darkness, so the they don't know who they're receiving from.'
'But the most valuable use of golden showers,' Gillian said, 'is when he gets visits from relatives or old friends and so on. Those people are always such a nuisance, they can really disturb his focus and leave him restless and confused and out of sync for days. It's very effective to apply a golden shower to his face as soon as possible before the visit - ideally just moments before they arrive, so he's washing it away just as they walk through the door.'
'And he should be made aware that another shower will be applied the moment the guests have gone,' Kath said. 'He should see you drinking a lot of fluid during their visit.'
'That way he's not really there for his guests,' said Gillian. 'Because you've focussed him on yourself the visitors find him remote and disengaged. That helps you to control the conversation with these pests, and crowd him out of it, until they go.'
'It's very valuable to combine golden showers with bitching,' Anne said. 'It's very good to talk at him the whole time that you're delivering onto his face. It doesn't have to be severe, as long as it's bitching and it's coming from you and filling his ears while he's receiving you.'
'As a matter of fact, Sandra,' Kath said slowly, 'showers are also used by us as a group initiation when new men come into our circle - when we're sure that his woman is really one of us. Do you think...?'
'Let me call him in!'
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