Helga Trains Christopher

Hello you naughty girls and boys.

Christopher has spent some time suckling Helga's large nipples, but finds he still can't escape her hair. Now he fears she will demand much more. Helga wants a demonstration from Christopher on how his service should be performed.

I feel I should also give some warning as Helga is a bit more extreme than anything Christopher has dealt with so far. Readers beware.

*****

She was gone for several minutes and while she was gone Christopher tried to work his tired, sore muscles. There wasn't much he could do given his position locked within the massage table. His hands secured behind his back kept him from any real chance of escape, but he was still trying to fight the cramps from being in essentially the same position for hours.

Thus while his options were limited, he did try a few twists of his torso and moving his legs as much as possible even if he was still cuffed at the ankles. He didn't get full relief but he felt he was able to avoid some tingling and numbness and well as lessen the cramps and aches he knew he would be feeling whenever he was finally freed.

Eventually he heard Helga come back into the room. She was still topless and he enjoyed a sideboob view as she stopped next to the counter. He tried to focus on the tit flesh and forget about the wispy hairs he now knew surrounded her enormous areola. As she turned he got another full view of her large breasts and though her nipples had calmed, they were still bigger than most he had encountered erect.

She had set down an insulated bottle on the counter; one inside a neoprene-type sleeve. She was holding a clear water bottle of her own from which she took another drink. Christopher would have liked a drink as well but wasn't quite sure what Helga's plans were. He guessed the bottle on the table was for him but she made no move to bring it to him.

Of course if he was to have a drink she would have to do more than that. She would either have to assist him in drinking, or would have to release him from his current prison within the massage table. Release seemed unlikely even though he felt he had spent more than enough time trapped there.

"You are worker, yes?"

They had been through this before his session with her breasts, but Helga was pressing him again. He knew better than to argue with her. He gave simple and direct answers.

"Yes."

"And you do work for customers. They not work for you. Yes?"

"Yes."

"And bosses make you work. They punish if not obey. Yes?"

"Yes."

"Good. You obey. No questions."

"Yes. I will obey."

He didn't really like saying he would 'obey' but it was the easiest response to Helga's question and least likely to anger her. He didn't need her angry in any way and he was trying to keep things calm and not suffer more than necessary.

"Now you will work for me like you did for customer. No complaints about hair. Use mouth and tongue to please. Prove you a good worker."

Christopher had feared that it wouldn't end with his nipple sucking earlier. And he feared this was exactly the sort of thing that could happen to him. If he could have disappeared in some way he would have. Even a sudden unconsciousness would be more welcome than what he feared was coming.

Slowly Helga began to unbutton her pants and slide them over her large backside and down her thick thighs. She wore a rather large pair of satin panties but they couldn't completely hide her from him. Out of either side of the crotch, thick tufts of her hair escaped, giving him an idea of what would soon be revealed.

Helga removed her shoes and socks, while Christopher stared at her crotch. He couldn't help it. It was like a condemned man staring at the noose before him. He was staring at his doom. And at this point he could only see a fraction of it.

Helga then stood with hands on hips facing him. She had a smile on her face; a cruel smile. Then, knowing he was watching, she slowly, very slowly, pulled down her underwear to reveal herself to him. As she stood back up she twirled the garment on the end of her finger; and action completely out of place with her size and demeanor. She then tossed it onto the counter and stood with spread legs and hands once again on her hips and let Christopher have a good look.

Christopher did look. And his heart sank. While he thought it was torture having to endure Enza and her hairy muff he would have gladly chosen that over what lay before him now. Helga didn't have a bush. What she had was an unruly thicket!

It was overgrown and wild. Not only was the hair dense, completely obscuring her womanhood, but it was also wild, sticking this way and that, with no uniformity. He felt she needed to comb it or brush it and then had an image of Helga brushing her thick tangle of pubes every night before bed.

And not only was it wild, it was expansive. Even the hair that had been escaping her panties didn't properly warn him of all the hair she had hidden underneath. The hair rose up to her waist and spread out to either side, nearly reaching her hips. And now he could see that the hairs spread to her upper thighs.

It was a mix of blonde and brown. Hard to tell if it was the thickness or color which hid the skin beneath. Perhaps it was some of both. But it hid her well. He knew her pussy was there but he couldn't make out any of the features. Not that he was eager to see it. For he knew it was a fat pussy.

It wasn't the sort of pussy he would ever want to see. He had only encountered a slightly fat pussy before when he was with a girl one might describe as chubby. He was with her for her amazing tits, but when it came time for the main attraction he was a little put off by her fat pussy. And it wasn't the slightest bit hairy. Still the plump mound meant spreading the meaty sides and the 'effort' did not yield a joy of discovery.

And he knew Helga had a similar pussy; similar but worse. Hers was likely even fatter than the one he had encountered, but more importantly it was covered in this dense growth. The hair was like a protective hedge, keeping the pussy safe from intruders. Not like she would have a swarm of suitors to fend off anyway.

She stood for a few moments letting his eyes take in the sight and letting his mind fill with dread. Then she slowly turned and got up onto the massage table. She didn't want to rush as she liked the fear that she knew was building within Christopher. Yet she was still eager to feel his tongue and really put him to work.

Christopher heard a creaking sound as she got onto the table and for a moment he wondered if the table would support her. He soon realized he was a fool for Helga wasn't truly that heavy and the table would have to be able to support a rather large individual as well as two 'normal' sized people. Still it was a reminder of how thick Helga was in comparison to Enza and other woman he had massaged.

She wasn't graceful and she bumped into his head a couple times as she got herself situated, but eventually she was sitting on the table in front of him. Her knees were bent and her thick thighs were acting as blinders and the dark thicket was now closer to him. He looked up, across her belly and her large breasts, and into her eyes.

He couldn't help but make a comparison between Helga and Enza. Enza had sat in much the same position during his second massage with her; the first time he was secured within the table. Their bodies could hardly have been more different. Enza was graceful and beautiful. She looked like a model and could easily have any man's attention. Helga was thick and rough and any attention she got from men was probably negative.

The only similarity was the hair. Even that was in great contrast. Enza did indeed have a hairy muff. One that was full and quite more than Christopher would have willingly endured. But it was a peaceful oasis compared to the dark and dangerous jungle which now lay before him. Helga had shown him that hair could be worse; much worse.

And now in such close proximity, Christopher noticed something else. There was an aroma that was distinctly different from Enza. Hers was clean and natural. Helga had a scent which spoke of hard work and sweat. And hers was a pussy which exemplified the comparison to fish odor. And this fish market, hidden in the jungle of her hair, was now inching closer to his face.

The scene before him was like a nightmare he couldn't stop. Yet from somewhere inside him, he tried to save himself, to find an escape, or at least delay the threat while he thought of a way out. He heard himself speak as if it was someone else.

"Before I begin may I have something to drink?"

Both of them were surprised to hear him speak and for a moment the silence hung in the air. Then Helga seemed to consider his request. She had just gotten comfortable and getting onto the table wasn't something she did with ease, so she was reluctant to get back off the table just to give him a drink.

Christopher wasn't fighting her and he felt it was more than reasonable that he should be allowed a brief refreshment before he began his unpleasant task. Helga appeared to agree, for with a short grunt she moved off of the table and then stepped over to the counter and the waiting bottle.

"Not a cold drink. This will warm your belly."

Not a cold drink? What was she talking about? He didn't need a warm belly, he needed a cold fucking drink of water! He tried to remain calm for he knew any such outburst would only bring him more trouble. Maybe it was liquor she was offering. But why?

She stepped next to him and slowly tipped the spout so he could catch it between his lips. She wasn't kidding. It was certainly not a cold drink. In fact it was hot. Not only hot but it tasted awful. Was this some Russian tea handed down from her ancestors? If so, they could keep it.

Helga stood with the bottle in hand and chuckled in his direction. He may have been surprised by the foul liquid but she wasn't surprised by his reaction. But then who could find such a salty, bitter drink at all appealing. It did little to relieve his thirst or wet his whistle, and he was debating forgoing a second swig.

"You don't like Helga's wine? I made special for you."

Well it certainly wasn't wine. He didn't know if she was confused or making a bad joke. And while it could be described as strong he was quite confident there wasn't any alcohol content. He was ready to just put the mystery drink behind him when he saw something in Helga's eyes.

"Fresh wine. You should be happy. Special treat."

She snickered and he began to feel a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. Something was very wrong. His tongue roamed over his teeth and gums, searching for answers. But he was afraid of what answers he would come up with. And that look on Helga's face only made it worse.

"Helga, what is that? What's in that bottle?"

"I told you. Helga's special wine. Very fresh."

She still wore a wicked smile and Christopher was determined to get some answers. Being polite as he could be and yet with a firm tone, he asked for more information.

"Helga, where did you get what is in that bottle?"

Helga took a few steps back, still facing him. She placed the bottle back on the counter. Then she took one hand and ran her fingers through the jungle that lay between her legs. She slowly repeated, all the while matching her gaze with his. He felt his stomach turn.

"I fill bottle myself. You lucky boy."

Part of him wanted to be sick and part of him fought not to. How could she have done that? How could he have done that? Throwing up now would only lead to more problems, and yet he had to fight to keep his stomach down. And if all that wasn't enough, she picked up the bottle again and stepped toward him.

"Ready for more?

As she approached he was in a state of disbelief. It was crazy to think that she had given him her piss to drink and even crazier to think that he had swallowed some of it already. But as she came up to him, it became clear this wasn't some little joke of hers. It wasn't just to get him to taste her piss. She expected him to drink it even knowing what it was. She wanted him to drink more of her hot piss and he just couldn't believe it.

"No Helga, please. I don't want to drink that."

"Are you worker?"

He didn't like where this was going but he knew the pain and trouble he would have if he disagreed with her. And he was still trapped with no possibility of escape. So meekly he responded, fearful of where it would lead.

"Yes. I am a worker."

"And I am boss?"

"Yes. You are the boss."

"Then you must obey. Drink and then you serve me."

She brought the bottle back to his lips. He briefly considered keeping his mouth tightly shut, but the look in her eyes told him that was a bad idea. Reluctantly he opened his mouth to receive the bottle. Maybe he didn't really have to drink? But surely she would check or somehow know that he hadn't swallowed any and then he would be in more trouble and still have to comply. So, with understandable hesitation, Christopher slowly began to drink more of Helga's hot piss from the bottle.

After he had taken several more swallows of the foul liquid he stopped. That should be enough. It was far more than enough of course, but he felt it should satisfy her. But if it did, it only meant he was closer to having an encounter with her hairy, smelly pussy. He was caught between two hells.

Helga shook the bottle slightly, determining how much was left. She pondered a moment and then must have decided he had swallowed enough. She set it back down on the counter. Then in her own ungainly ways, she got back up onto the table. But that only meant his second hell was approaching.

"That enough drink for now. Now your mouth has other job to do."

Her thick legs were soon on either side of his head and then she playfully brought her knees in so that her thighs slapped against his cheeks and ears. He needed no reminder of her proximity or how trapped he was within walls of her flesh. And that dark jungle was once again filling his forward view.

He tried to forget about the lingering taste of piss in his mouth and throat. Now it was his nose once again picking up the stink of her pussy. His nostrils flared and his lips curled at the stench.

"You shouldn't make face. Remember; not about you happy, about guest happy."

He had been caught making a face, but how could he not? Helga added a whole new element to any equation. Enza had provided him with a most unpleasant surprise, but he never would have considered having to serve Helga in any way. Still he may have to learn to hide his disgust, as it would only get him in more trouble.

And he was disgusted. Just being so close to Helga's large, smelly, hairy pussy was enough to make him gag. But it was about to get worse. How could he possibly put his tongue to her? And yet, how could he possibly get out of doing so? He was doomed.

"And now...make me happy."

She wasn't subtle. Nothing about Helga ever was, really. She didn't just scoot closer toward him so he could reach her with his tongue. No, she shoved her pussy onto his face with enough force that he felt the resistance to the back of his neck, trapped as it was within the table. As her dense hair impacted his face it was like a large dark sponge pressing into him. Maybe not a sponge as much as large wad of steel wool.

And it didn't just collide with his mouth or nose. Her hairy patch was larger than his entire face. There would be absolutely no way to escape it. She wouldn't have to try to cover his face in this way or that, she had already done it, and could keep it completely covered in hair without ever moving.

He had shut his eyes the moment she moved but either he wasn't quick enough, or her hairs were more persistent and sneaky for he felt some of them had made their way under his eyelids and were now irritating his eyes. Besides her hairs covering his face like a rough terry cloth washcloth, he felt many of her hairs had been shoved up his nose.

And here it wasn't subtle either. They weren't just tickling his nostrils. They had invaded his nasal passages and he feared they were determined to reach his throat. He was reminded of the hairs at the back of his throat from his earlier exertions with Enza. With Helga it could only be worse.

And not only were they deep within his nose, but the thick mass of hairs filled the cavity. His nose was plugged with her wiry, stinky, pussy hairs and there was nothing he could do about it. And behind the squashed hairs, her fat flesh pushed his nose back.

His lips too were distorted by the press of pussy hairs, and smelly crotch. And again he felt as if the hairs were trying to sneak their way between his lips and into his reluctant mouth. They would be there soon enough for he knew he wasn't to keep his mouth shut for long.

And then she eased the press against his face, if only slightly, as she rocked slowly back and forth against his trapped features. She was using her large, hairy, smelly pussy to pat his face over and over. It was a sensation he could have gone his whole life without.

And then, perhaps in her excitement of what was to come, she pressed forward again. But this time she didn't stop there. This time as her crotch wrapped around his face, her thighs closed in about his head. He heard the deep thud in his ears as they were covered and all sound was blocked out.

He felt the darkness wash over him and felt the press of flesh around his entire head. It was an eerie feeling, as though he was buried alive. Seconds passed like minutes in this new dark world and he wondered if this was what death would be like.

As he found himself needing air he tried to struggle, but it was useless. Thankfully her legs parted and he felt light and air fall upon his face. It could have only been seconds but it was enough for him to fear if she wanted to bury him within her hot flesh.

"Make happy. Lick!"

With hardly a thought Christopher had opened his mouth and put out his tongue. It wasn't a question of whether or not he wanted to lick her. It wasn't a question of how he might avoid such a fate. It was simply the next step in his existence. He simply had to put out his tongue and lick Helga's smelly, hairy pussy.

While the tip of his tongue met some resistance it felt mostly as if he was scooping up her hairs onto his tongue and that in turn pushed more of them up and onto his nose and face. On his second pass she rocked forward and his tongue felt her skin beneath the tangle of hairs.

He still didn't have his bearings and had no idea just how close he really was to finding her slit. He opened his eyes to see where he was, but that wasn't much help. His eyes were only about an inch from her body and now the forest of hairs relaxed against his eyeballs, irritating him further. His eyelids spasmed in a flutter, in a reflexive effort to dislodge the hairs, but it wasn't to be.

So his vision was of no real help at this point and he tried not to focus on his discomfort as his eyes began to water. A press of hair and flesh rubbed across his nose and he was reminded of the hairs pushing their way into the back of his head. He pushed his tongue further and made another lick.

He thought he felt a small groove or valley of her skin and felt a twinge of hope. Again he licked, knowing he needed to make some show of progress soon lest Helga become upset with him. Vile as the prospect of licking her was, he couldn't afford to make her upset.

When first he felt her fingers in his hair he was worried he had already taken too long and was in for a punishment. But it appeared she was only getting him in proper position. Her hand behind his head was almost gentle, and he felt her fingers moving in front of his face.

She was spreading herself and guiding his tongue to the trench of her fishy gash. And then his tongue met her slick lips. Deep within the forest of fur he found a wet trail. And as she spread herself and guided him further in, he became aware of the size and depth of her womanhood.