Mistress Sharada

I watched the clock as the minute hand slid down to 12:29. Less than a minute remained. For the rejection session.

Today morning, I had dared to ask out the prettiest girl in college, Sharada. Literally every straight guy in college had a crush on her. From somewhere I’d heard the saying that if you never try, you never know. As of this moment, I wish I had never known.

I went over to her house to ask her out, which I eventually did. It began with an awkward conversation about her exams, and I just brought up the fact that I had a huge crush on her. She gave me the coldest reply ever. “I’m just not interested.” I turned back to leave her home, but she jabbed her high heels into my throat. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I… was hoping to go back home and cry?” I felt like I was cracking a joke; she didn’t think so.

“I still haven’t given you the rejection session.” Sharada said. “You honestly expect me to just let you go after what you did?”

“I only asked you out…”

“You don’t think that deserves punishment?” Sharada said. “A hopeless boy like you asking out a girl like me?” She slid her heels further into my throat and said that my session was at 12:30, and tied me up to the rim of her toilet seat. Despite bright daylight, I had nightmares about what the rejection session would entail.

Sharada walked in, dressed very differently from this morning. She was wearing just her underwear, black bra and panties, black stockings and black leather boots with silver heels, each over three inches thick. Never had she looked more dangerous, and never had she looked more beautiful.

Her foot went up and crushed me down her toilet. “You know how it feels to have a cockroach crawl up your legs? That is how I feel now.” Sharada’s boot descended even harder, like she wanted to dislodge my head and flush it down her toilet.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled between the treads of her boot.

“A loser like you asking out a girl like me? What the heck were you thinking?” Sharada said, forming a huge blob of saliva in her mouth and spitting it out on me.

“Sharada,” I would have to come up with a substantial offer to calm her down, “I will do anything to make it up to you.”

“Anything?” Sharada laughed.

“Seriously.”

“Of course seriously.” Sharada laughed, “I have you trapped like a lab rat now.” She descended upon me with the sharp edge of her knees cutting through my ribs. “You will do anything and everything I tell you to do. You have no other option now.” She turned around, brought her buttocks up to my face and began to dance around lightly, teasing me with the incredible smoothness of her thighs. “I want you to die for me.”

“But I only asked you out… “

“And for that, you should die.” Sharada said, grinding my face between her butt cheeks. I twisted and turned, but stopped as soon as she blew up a huge fart on my mouth. The sputtering noise eroded my senses and slowly caused me to give up fighting the beautiful creature sitting on my face. I gave up. If she wanted me to die, I would die. “I want you to be my fart slave for the rest of your life.” Sharada said, exploding yet again with a huge gas cloud. “You know what a fart slave is? A human being with no rights to eat, or drink or even breathe anything that’s not my gas.”

“Yes, Sharada.” I inhaled hard. “I will be your fart slave for life.”

“That’s good.” Sharada arose, now that she had me sold on the job. “Come to my room, I’ll give you further instructions on how you can die for me.”

“Yes, mistress.”

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