Her Royal Pet Ch. 05

She doesn't hold me in place, allows me to slide backwards a little so that my attention can dip downwards to her exposed erection. I suck in a small breath, beholding it for the first time in what feels like an age.

It must be over a foot in length, more than twice the size of my above-average endowment. Thick around the shaft but largest of all at the head, which is for the moment shrouded in pale foreskin. Her manhood begins in that overgrown bush of oil-black darkness, and beneath it swings a pair of testicles like fat oranges, in a silken and hairless sack. It definitely has an appeal to it, one that was never quite there before.

'As my son, you would have earned the right to consume my seed,' Mother says, a powerful lustiness in her voice. 'Judging by the way you look at my body, I can only imagine that your thoughts might have changed a little, around such matters?'

My own words are still fresh in my ears, my own fears of what she ultimately wants. When I pull my gaze away from her giant cock, I find a devilish smile on her lovely lips, a flaring fire in those amethyst eyes. And for a long moment, I'm lost in them. Lost in possibility.

All of this time, all of my concerning myself over whether giving into pleasure is fair on the people she might have hurt, and yet I've put so little thought into whether or not her aims for me are quite what she claims. Am I truly to be her scion, or am I instead to be her slave?

'You...you do want me to be your prince, don't you?'

The Queen chuckles. 'So frightened, aren't you? I haven't seen that look in a long time. It almost takes me back to our first meeting.' She casually grips my jaw and strokes her fingers against it, smiling away. 'As my prince, and my consort, you will have duties. Duties to me, first of all, that nobody else can fulfil. What I have shown you so far is not a trick, but it isn't the whole variety of what's to come.'

I'm aware of the increasing rumbling of my heart behind my ribs, and the budding arousal most prominently obvious between my legs. For all her divinity, her supreme power, there's something about the Witch Queen that would not be amiss in some goddess of sensuality.

The way she considers me, cocking her head slightly to the left, her smile ripe and rich, amethyst eyes faintly crackling with their inhuman energies, makes all the potential difficulties of this future I am choosing somehow negligible. I am made small, weak, vulnerable, and yet...it's okay. That trust I've chosen to place in her remains, and the shifting tone between us, the hints of a different kind of perversion, does nothing to damage its foundations. I can still turn back. I can still choose a different fate.

'I want to be your prince,' I say, nodding against her gentle touch. 'I trust you.'

She blinks softly, and the world melts into smoke and skittering darkness for half a second, the transitional period between this beautiful place and the black marble of her palace. At no point are my feet threatened by instability, despite the disappearance of the grass and soil and momentary void which connects the two distinct planes.

When reality solidifies again, we're in her bedchamber, standing at the foot of the great four-poster bed that acts as the room's centrepiece. The Witch Queen at last releases her hold of my jaw and steps backwards, sitting herself down on the bottom edge of the bed.

'Are you ready to be reborn, Daniel? For us to begin this properly, as it should be?'

As she speaks, Mother widens her legs almost to the point that they press back against the dark iron frame of the bed. Her armour melts away, becomes dust and then less than, exposing in full her nude and magnificent matronly body. Full, slightly sagging breasts with wide and bumpy areolas, each boob as large as my head. Wide childbearing hips, and voluptuous thighs, all creamy pale. Her phenomenally sturdy erect cock, drooping upon that pair of enormous balls, its mound a thing of oil-black hairiness.

She smiles salaciously as she takes hold of her member with one hand, and cups her big balls with the other, scooping all of that maleness up and out of the way to reveal the pretty pink paradise of her motherly coochie. The glistening orifice, a dimensional gateway dedicated solely to sex and pleasure -- at least, up until now, in my reckoning -- glistens and faintly quivers, quakes in anticipation, as I behold its ordinarily hidden self.

'How does it happen?'

The Queen gestures to me with a curling finger, her smile now a smirk, lust given physical form. 'Come closer. Let Mother put you in your rightful place.'

It's only two steps, but the first one is laborious. To lift my foot and return it to the smooth flagstones of the floor is akin to lifting an immense weight, as if my body is suddenly made of metal and yet my own reserves of strength remain suited to mere flesh. There's no going back, I realise. No turning away now. I'm too excited, too enamoured, too curious about the possibilities.

I chose to be myself, when I could've started anew. When the Empress of Eternities gave me my options, allowed me to either remain with her as myself, or to live freely as another, I chose myself. Chose her.

And now...now I'm going to adapt to the way things are going. To take the final step, feeling like a man of unshifting metal, until at last Mother brings her hand against the arch of my left hip and suddenly I'm weightless. Weightless, because she's got me right where she wants me, and I'm no longer my usual height and strength. My clothes melt away, and I'm naked, naked and exposed and at her mercy and...it's a mad state of affairs.

'Holy shit,' I say, realising the change. She's so big, and so...I must be so small.

'How quaint,' the Queen says, easily holding me up before her with just the one hand, its long pale fingers reaching around half of my waistline. From a few inches short of six feet to maybe a few short of two. 'You're going to make such a wonderful son.'

She brings me forwards, until our faces are a hair's breadth apart, hers so much larger than my own. The world is now the Empress, her height normal, mine diminutive. I glance about myself, finding everything in proportion, an adult body but rendered tiny. Perhaps that of a particularly large baby in terms of size, at best.

The Queen kisses my face, her lips like molten flame, her breath candied and sweet. Her eyes possess a tremendous dirtiness to them, a vulgarity that suits her well and yet usually seems to be somewhat leashed. More and more, her perverseness is leaking through. More and more, it's clear that for her, a major element of this -- if not the defining one -- is about sex and sensuality above all else.

'I...are you going to unbirth me now?'

She smiles wider, and chuckles. 'I'm going to put you right where you belong, my lovely boy. I'm going to infuse you with myself, and when you come out again, you'll be such a wonderful prince.'

I tremble as she begins to lower me, as she lifts her proud and excessive male genitals up to ensure an easy pathway to her pussy. Some part of me demands I protest, resist, but it's such a pointless thing. I'm too excited, too aroused, too all-around interested in the madness, the magic, the motherliness of this beautiful and terrible deity.

Her coochie's lips glisten, widen almost in anticipation of me. The sexual smells of her lower lips provoke a faint twitching of my nostrils, her natural tang pheromonal and musky with womanliness, no hint of the arcane at work despite her whole body being fundamentally infused with the stuff.

It's strange, that my predominant passion here is lust. Lust, raw and ripe and fiery, dripping from every element of myself capable of thought. I have no idea what's about to happen, really. Only her words, and what are they, after all, but possibilities?

The Empress of Empresses holds me steadily, beginning to angle me roughly horizontally, so that I'm going in feet-first. Mother smiles, wets her luscious lips, and her pussy seems to glisten all the stronger, anticipating my arrival. Whatever is about to happen, it's going to change the course of my life. For better or worse.

'You're so excited,' she says, rubbing her thumb back and forth over the sensitive tip of my shrunken member. 'I'm glad. I want you inside me, too. Warm and safe and ever so pleasant.'

The Queen brings me forwards, and my heart thunders. Words fail me, because how could they do anything else? My eyes are as wide as saucers, at their very limits, and all I can do is marvel at the increasing vastness of her body, inch after inch bringing us so close to this point beyond which all is uncertain, all is illicit, all is perversely insane.

Schlick.

'Ughn.'

'Mhm. How does that feel?'

My feet find themselves engulfed in a hot humidity, sticky and swallowing. So easily they disappear into her body, and twitching my toes only provokes trembles through her. She moans, as if the mere addition of my tiny feet is enough to bring her great satisfaction. And fuck me, the simplest touch provokes a groan on my part, because it's as if my whole body -- now entering her in this vulgar fashion -- is an erogenous zone.

'Why is it...why's it so--'

Schlick-schlick.

I suck in a deep breath, the air perfumed with her coochie's eroticism. Mother slides me up to my calves inside her, and my cock erupts. Not a traditional orgasm but something stranger, whole-body, like the purest and truest species of that most desired and sought-after animal drive. It's like all is white, all is glorious, all is perfect.

'Because you belong inside of me,' the Witch Queen says. Schlick-schlick. Up to the knees, the warmth magnificent, the tightness growing. 'You're going to spend a long, long time inside me, darling. Because I am, forever more, your true mother.'

To look up, to meet those amethyst eyes, is to look beyond a pair of sublimely plump breasts that possess such an alluring degree of matronly sag, to behold a face that is so much larger than my own, to behold a woman whose beauty is enchanting and whose body is a paradise.

Schlick-schlick.

My cock continues to spurt as it disappears past her lips, which so easily swallow my entire lower half. What use are tiny sperms in fertilising the eggs of a goddess? What use is a tiny cock? And fuck, her hand above me is the only thing preventing the descent of those mammoth testicles, that huge dick, that before long will fall back atop her vulva like some mythological boulder across the entrance of a cave, sealing me away.

Mother leans forwards slightly, her enormous tits jiggling forwards, the ripest of smiles upon her voluptuous lips. 'Oh, you feel so good in there. Squirm all you like, it'll only make it better for me. I can't wait to get you in my--aahn--womb.'

I try to speak but my mind is utterly wracked with perverse pleasure, lost in the throes of exultant ecstasy. She adjusts her grip on me, placing that holding hand above my shoulders, her body's hold on mine more than enough to keep me easily clasped within her welcoming walls. At the first sign of looseness she squeezes tighter, and my nuts feel as though they're wholly emptied, as if some minuscule mouth is sucking fiercely on my cock.

'Ughn. Ugh. Fuck, M-other.'

'Well, you will be a motherfucker.' She chuckles, pushing her fingers on my shoulders. Schlick-schlick, schlick-schlick. This seems almost the end, the final moments in the world beyond her pussy. 'Bye, darling. See you when I see you. Aahn. Ooh.'

Her face disappears, and her fingers leave me be as her hot and sticky coochie slides up to my shoulders. The Queen must release her hold on her junk, because suddenly the underside of her nut sack comes down like a hood across my face, and all the world is plunged into darkness. Humid, fragrant, erotic darkness.

'Mhm. Oh, so close.'

Schlick-schlick, schlick-schlick.

Suddenly I'm being pulled from within, swallowed bodily. For just a moment my head is wedged in the opening of her pussy and then her lips fall around me, solidifying the darkness. I wriggle and squirm, locked in a perpetual climax, and her vagina feels tendrilous against my bare flesh, a muscular magnificence that swells and crushes, that engulfs me with constant wetness and warmth.

Mother moves, perhaps laying back, and moans loudly. Her voice is muffled, distant and yet close, a vibration felt through me as my face becomes entirely glazed in her fluids. Salty, sweet, sticky. My feet press up against an opening which promptly parts, making way, drawing me into that last and most fertile of places. Her womb. Mother's womb.

'Aah. Oh, it's divine. It's--mhm--perfect!'

Her whole body shudders around me as I'm rapidly sucked into a different place, a chamber of utter heat and electrifying ecstasy. The gateway of her cervix grips around my neck and head, desperate to shut, to lock me inside, and the moment I'm through it seals tightly to prevent any chance of escape.

'Ugh. Shit.'

I can't seem to stop moaning, twisting about, the universe a place of blackness and yet tremendous comfort. Safety. All of a sudden I seem to grow, to become a bit larger, large enough to be moulded into a position by the walls of her womb. To be forced into a foetal position, my knees up against my chest, a baby in its mother. Her baby. My mother.

But the darkness is suddenly broken. 'Mhm. Hello in there.'

A vision appears before my eyes, some lens across the mind's eye. A vision of the Queen of Queens, laid upon her back on that magnificent bed, with a fat and fertile-looking belly. Extremely pregnant, with all the alluring accoutrements: thicker curves in places, even more abundant breasts, nipples faintly glistening with milk.

Like a hovering camera, I behold her side-on, and she smiles at me as if knowing just where my face will be. The gorgeous goddess brings a pale hand down atop her bloated belly, the belly button forced outwards, and slowly strokes the shape. I'm rocked by a series of further convulsions, shivering away from the exceptional pleasure that rushes through me as a result of such distant and external contact. If I'm cumming, if I'm simply existing in a psychological state of ejaculatory ecstasy, I can't tell. My whole body, constantly, is bathed in blissfulness. The longest, most perfect climax.

'You're inside of me,' she says, shutting her eyes and smiling with utmost exultation. 'You're inside, Daniel. Darling. Ooh.' Mother chews on her lower lip and steadily shakes her head from side to side, her cock throbbing between her thighs. She frantically takes hold of it and begins to tug, eliciting an instantly sloppy schl-fap, schl-fap, schl-fap as her foreskin slickly slides back to reveal the purple magnificence of her tremendous glans. 'Inside me, right where you belong. Ugh. Don't I look so, so good, pregnant with you?'

She does. Ugh. I'm a prince of perverts, if nothing else. It's impossible to pretend away the fact that she looks superb, carrying a child. Carrying...me. It's the strangest thing, to consider that erotic and exotic state of affairs, but it's wonderful as well. Drenching in her fluids, awash in the waters of her womb, I'm nothing more than a child in waiting. A life to be born, as and when she wills it, wants it.

As she continues to stroke herself, all of her voluptuousness jiggles and shudders, from hips to heavy breasts. Those in particular look simply sublime, the blue veins on them more noticeable, the areolas seeming bumpier, wider, and a distinct dribble of that cream I so crave to feast upon leaking from her nipples.

'We're just going to lie here, for as long as I want.' She opens her eyes and they burn bright, the amethyst glory of her irises aflame and powerful. 'Maybe I'll never let you out. Maybe we'll just exist like this, forever, and ever.'

The thought is confusing, for one part of it chills and the other is so, so welcome. If this is my fate, to dwell in this state of rapturous ecstasy and the safest warmth I've ever encountered, then...then a strong part of me shouts: so be it.

'I can hear you, you know? All those thoughts. Mhm. All those worries and daydreams.'

Schl-fap, schl-fap, schl-fap.

She continues to stroke her magnificent member and sighs sweetly, eyes shutting again, mouth holding that heavenly smile. 'I'm only joking about keeping you here. Though you were--ugh--right. I don't have to do this. Aahn. It feels wonderful, which is as good a reason as any. We might have to--ooh--do it again, sometime.'

Her fat-headed cock erupts, shooting a veritable banquet of the thickest, creamiest, whitest semen. It releases in such sturdy strings, these voluminous white serpents that nonetheless never touch the floor. Each simply adds to a growing bubble, a ballooning mass that could easily fill some massive pitcher glass. I can't seem to look away, can't seem to stop marvelling at the sight, even though so much of the image is more traditionally desirable.

'It's for you,' the Empress says, groaning softly as her climax seems to come to an end, leaving but a single thick dribble of white cream leaking from the wide cycloptic hole in the middle of her bulbous bell-end. 'It's full of sperm, darling. Full of my essence. Your new favourite comfort food. Not sweet like my breastmilk, but more fitting. A cocksucker prince. Mhm.'

That dirty title only strengthens my ongoing orgasm. Some awful part of me...some part of me wants her in every sense, and will do anything to have her. Even if that means sacrificing certain things that I hold up as part of my masculinity. My independence.

'Oh, shush. It's not about that. I don't need a prince, and I certainly don't need to give him any children.' The Witch Queen opens her eyes again, and smirks in an almost sinister fashion. 'Come on, darling. You know that it was never going to end like that. I told you, didn't I? I told you what I wanted, right at the start. The best kind of subservience is not taken by force, but given freely.'

She chuckles, lust personified. The floating balloon of semen pulsates and writhes, alive with her sperm, her genes, her power. It hangs there in place for the moment, but something about it suggests great importance. And something in me...wants whatever that is going to be.

'Tell me you don't want this, think it, and I will set you free. I'll--ugh--send you to your friends, and wipe the memories of anyone who recalls your rebellion. I'll--aah--fix it all. You can have the life of your dreams...or you can be my pet prince, my royal pet, and live at my side until the end of time.'

But how can I stay? How can I stay with you, if I'm not getting what I wanted?

'What you wanted? Do you even know what I'm offering you?' She smirks, a touch vicious, lustful as sin. The swirling collection of load drifts forwards, towards her still-drooling cock. 'Nobody, in all of time and space, has the luxury of truly serving me. Nobody but you. If you so choose it.'

The immense quantity of whiteness dips down, forming a surging stream of jism that extends beneath her member and into that waiting womanhood. I can only watch, anticipating, curious, all of my lusts and desires enflamed like a fire stoked to the point of conflagration.

'I am the Empress of Eternities, darling Daniel,' she says, the rippling creaminess disappearing inch by inch into her pussy. 'I am going to get what I want, and what I want is all that matters. You'll give it to me. You'll do for me what nobody else can, and you've already decided. Your heart is already mine.'

Her confidence is at once unsettling and deeply arousing. Arrogance, perhaps, but I've always thought arrogance requires a degree of mismatch between belief and actualisation. Mother has no such mismatch. To look upon her nude and pregnant form, to behold the vessel of my transformation -- be it into a prince or a pet -- is to find in myself a deep uncertainty. Part of me wanting one outcome but not the other. Part of me wanting either, without a care in the world.