Blissful Torment

I have to admit that either I had been a blind, deaf and stupid idiot, or that I was (at least unconsciously) intrigued when I saw the car for the first time. I mean, sure, the price played a big role. $5000 for a 2013 VW Phaeton with only 13'666 km on it was not just cheap, it was downright daylight robbery. I needed a car, and I was spending quite some time on the Autobahn every day. So I was definitely in the market for a powerful but luxurious sedan.

The colour was not my favourite. It must have been a custom paint job, because I'm pretty sure VW never made a car that was black with a tinge of garish purple. It was weird that the current owner claimed that he had only driven it once, and his comment of, "I absolutely hated how it behaved while driving," but he did not clarify what exactly he meant by that. He even let me test-drive it, and insisted to not come along. I very much liked how it felt as I drove through the empty village on a Sunday afternoon. Powerfully vibrating engine and slippery gearbox, as if made for racing. Truth be told I had always thought the Phaeton would not feel much like a sexy sports-car, but maybe I misremembered. 

When I asked the seller if I could have a few days to think it over, he offered me $1000 off the price if I took it off his hands and drove it away right now, because, and here he hesitated for a moment, he "needed the parking space very urgently". In afterthought, I am pretty sure that was a lie, and even then it seemed fishy. But the car was probably worth twice that even just for parts! 

I could not resist, as if it called to me. I took the deal and the car. I could have sworn the engines made different noises from before. More... humming contently.

The next day I got up early in the morning and got ready to go to work. I drove up to the highway just near my house (and not yet known to me, accelerated beyond 66.6km/h). That is when things got very weird. A bump appeared on the seat between my legs, and I thought for a moment I had touched a button that somehow reclined the seat, but that was absolutely not the case. It was as if the seat was malleable, and had a will of its own. It slid up between my thighs, and before I could do much about it (concentrated on driving as I was) it had grown to the size of about a head. 

An opening formed at the front, and I gasped in shock as I saw what looked like tiny black leather tentacles pull down my fly. Now panicking, I tried to drive to the side of the road and stop, but the steering wheel did not budge. I cried out in fear, thinking I would now crash into the lorry in front of me, but the car gently swerved to the side as if driven by an autopilot. Which this car model absolutely should not have! The stereo came on, and a sultry woman's voice murmured: "Just relax. I got it under control."

I stared first at the sound system showing a purple audio spectrum moving in accordance to the strange voice, then immediately back at the thing between my legs. It definitely resembled a female head now, at least in rough contours, as if made from smoothed metal.

Then my cock flopped out of my pants, and straight into its "mouth". Immediately, I felt "her" start to gently suck, and the head slid closer to my crotch, until its nose touched my pants. My cock was fully engulfed by her, warm, wet, soft mouth, just like a human's. Better even. Like a cross-over between a juicy pussy and an eager mouth. I could not see what was happening, but I felt my cock be licked, sucked and fucked all at once.

I groaned in pleasure. It felt utterly amazing. It took only a couple minutes until I felt myself ready to cum, and cum hard. And then she stopped. I looked down at the "head" between my legs, but it was unmoving. It had pinned me to the seat, and there was no way I could touch my penis. I could have sworn even the vibrations of the motor had lessened to the tiniest hum. The speedometer showed an easy 136 km/h, and my Phaeton manoeuvred with skill and grace between the other cars.

"Why did you stop?" I asked, slightly breathless, denied cock still throbbing. I did not really expect and answer, but when it came anyway, I flinched. "Because I like my boys needy and denied," the sultry voice declared. "Would you like to climax?"

"Yes, I would?" I replied, quite wary whether this was a trick question.

"Sure, go ahead," it replied, but nothing happened. I could have sworn I heard a snicker.

My cock had gotten partially soft in the mean time, but then suddenly it felt like a dozen tongues were playing with my cock-head, trying to make me shoot my load as if their life depended on it.

I moaned and was about to explode, and it immediately stopped.

"Oh come on!" I shouted.

"Tsk tsk tsk. You will address me as Mistress," the car said.

"But you're a car?!" I exclaimed, equally frustrated and confused.

"And your cock is stuck in that position until you call me Mistress," she answered.

"Fine. Mistress. Can I cum?" I replied.

"Please."

"Alright, please. May I please cum?"

"Soon," she answered, and then stayed still. For the next forty minutes, she took over driving completely, I could just lean back and "enjoy" it as she kept edging me over and over until we arrived at the parking garage of my company. There, finally, she kept going for just a second longer, and I nearly fainted as I shot an hour's worth of edging down her "throat".

"Good boy," she praised me.

I went to work rather frazzled, but also with a certain glow.

In the evening when I stood in front of my car and wondered whether I should take the train home, the door swung open automatically. I understood why this car had not stayed with one owner for too long. Who would willingly get edged for ninety minutes every day?

Turns out I would. This car is perfect.