His Futa Auntie Pt. 04

A gurgle bubbled up from his depths as he felt the brute squelching across his insides once more, leaving an emptiness that was all-consuming.

"UH..Uhhhhh-!"

'God it feels like I'm... losing an organ....'

"Ohhh... ohh..."

For a moment she watched as steam rose off his back and funnelled straight out of his asshole as Sheila stood over the bent over figure, her cock hovering at his ass, as if begging to be let off the leash once more.

Eventually she made up her mind.

"C'mon bitch."

Her hand enclosed his arm, and he was dragged towards the side-gate.

"A-Auntieee Sheila?... " he murmured, drool spattering his chin, the young figure's knees shaking as he tried to stand up, feet dragging across the pavement.

She ignored him, marching him out of the side gate, and off down the street, his butt-claps now so wet and squelchy from all the cum inside them that it sounded like his ass was still being fucked whenever it moved.

*squelch - clap! - squelch - clap! - squelch*

Neighbours might have heard from their living room window some water balloons being bounced, or perhaps two wet plungers walking down the street, looking around in confusion, unaware of the boy whose pipes and mounds were clapping happily behind him, whilst still glued together with cum.

As they walked, hand in hand like some perverted pup and its owner, he looked into a house where a man and woman were watching television.

Their eyes snapped to the pair walking down the road, and their eyes became round as they tried to process the scene before them.

The boy was definitely limping, half-dragged by the giantess walking in front of him.

His cheeks were just as warm as the swamp inside him as they sat up off the sofa to watch them move out of view.

'Oh this is so embarrassing!.... But where is she taking me?'

Suddenly the stifling warmth of his mother's embrace didn't seem quite so awful, glancing at muscles on his Auntie's glutes that he'd never seen on another person, ridges and power cables that seemed to surge and oscillate with each step.

'Am I going to live with Auntie Sheila?'

The rusted, broken Cadillac came into view, parked next to an empty house.

'What if Mom says I can never go back...? She cut everyone else off.... Sheila too....'

Finally James' legs could take it no more, and he collapsed on the grass beside the sidewalk, a wet squelchy fart leaving his ass as he landed on it.

*Spluugcchhh*

He wondered what they were eating back Lesley and Daniel's house.

'I bet the food is lovely... just like my Moms'....'

Sheila looked behind, equally pleased and annoyed at how thoroughly James had been railed.

"Nnnh..."

"Fuck... I shoulda remembered what a fucking cock-loving whore you are, gettin' fucked until ya can't even stand up...."

"A-Auntieee... could we not... s-swear... Thank you so much for your cock inside m-me... ohhhh.... But we should not..... uhhh...."

He slumped in the grass, limp.

Auntie Sheila was about to pick him up, when she paused.

Her bitch-breaking senses tingled.

Something still needed to happen.

Her eyes peeled.

Some inexperienced doms would try to force their subs to obey them. What Sheila had learnt over many years of pounding boy-pussy, was that giving a slut like James the option to choose would only solidify him as her piece of fuck-meat for life.... if he chose correctly.

If she wanted him to be her true slave.... The bitch needed to make a decision for himself.

"Ey."

James jerked up as two loud finger snaps in front of his face roused him.

"Hnn?"

She grabbed his head and pulled it up so she was looking at a terrifying, angelic demon who blotted out the sun.

"Do you wanna come live with me?"

"Hnnn? A-Auntieeee....""

She slapped him lightly on the chin.

"Don't fuckin' auntie me... If you don't get to my fuckin' car right now, I'll leave. You CRAWL if ya have to.... got it?"

"Y.. o-ok....."

She shook her head.

"Fuckin' slutboy..... If ya don't wanna be a man, you can go back to yer fuckin' mom's basement."

James rolled, eyes watering, his delicate, pasty skin roasting in the afternoon sun, exactly halfway between Sheila's car and Lesley's house.

Back down the road, he could see his Mother's car waiting outside, shining baby blue paintwork unscratched, safe and reliable.

Warmth, food at his beck-and-call, and over-bearing affection spoke to him.

He turned his head to the dented, almost crumpled inwards fender of Sheila's Cadillac, leading to a life of discovery, of possible dangers.... and brutal, unflinching bodily exploration.

His anus quivered, as if fearing the savagery to come.

Above him, Sheila leered, a wet patch spreading against her inner thigh where her womanhood was drooling.

"Make yer decision... I ain't waiting for you to roast, piggy."

James winced, and spoke up to Sheila.

"B-but... M-mom......"

A vein in Shieila's temple throbbed.

"Fuckin stupid bitch. Whaddya want with her?"

"Will... will I still be able to visit?"

Sheila jerked her head.

"What the fuck do you wanna visit for?"

His voice was quiet.

"W-well....... Poogums might be worried...."

'And what if Sheila just does the same as my Mom and never lets me go anywhere....'

Sheila snarled.

"You got two choices. Stop yappin' and pick one."

James looked at the rusted Cadillac, and then at the blue estate car.

***

A slimy, sunburnt figure crawled towards the back door, his knees and hands rough and scraped. The hickey on his neck hurt, and he wasn't sure how he smelt, although his Auntie's cum and breath were thick in his throat.

'Just... act... natural..'

He pulled himself up on shaky feet, and twisted the door handle.

One step inside was one too many, and the best smile he could hope for left his face as he toppled to the kitchen floor.

"Oof!"

"Shnoogums? Is that you?"

"Come through little guy!... Sorry, young man I meant to say.... Did you enjoy the garden?"

"I'm sure he did!"

James struggled to his feet, and made the final few steps to the dining room.

"Here he is... see? He's all.... Jesus Christ...."

"Honey! Don't use the lord's n-... Fuckin' hell in a handbasket..."

"What? Shnoogums, are you al-....-right."

All three faces paused in states of utter shock.

James managed a bleary-eyed smile as the faces of every person at the table went paper-white, taking in the shirtless, lobster red, sweat-ridden form of James, his shorts soaked, the smell of sweat and something musky and tangy that seemed almost exactly like cum infesting the room.

"Y... y-yeah.... I-I'm fine....."

White liquid was leaking openly from his anus as he minced as best he could, although a solitary, subtle wet clap made his Mother's ears prick, and a whine escape her throat.

"Ah.. sh.. shnoogums....what... what happened..."

"Looks like he uh... had a good run-around....." Lesley managed, looking like she was about to vomit.

James weaved towards the table.

His legs gave way again.

He fell, face forwards onto the table, and as he did a wet, cloying fart issued loud enough that everyone heard it, a wet *spluurgghhh* that was followed immediately by a doubling of the miasma of cum in the room, Lesley and Daniel retching as it infected their sinuses.

"Jesus!..."

"What in God's...."

"Sh-Shnoogums??!"

His Mother raced to him, her face ghostly white.

Down his skin-tight boy-shorts, white liquid was trickling.

In fact on closer inspection it looked like his shorts were wet through, and potentially holding in a mountain of cum.

She could barely assemble words together, gaze whirling around the room for the source of her son's sodomy as she grabbed his shoulders.

"I... We're leaving..."

Lesley gave the boy a furtive look, evidently quite horrified, yet still bound by her customary charm to be a perfect host.

"Oh are you sure?..... We were um....... hoping to furnish ya'll with our famous blueberry p-"

"I SAID WE'RE LEAVING!" Tammy Shrieked, and the couple jerked back, openly relieved as as Tammy Bennet dragged the broken, half-naked form of her son to the door.

"Jesus... does he... need some water?" uttered Daniel.

"HE'S FINE!" Tammy snapped, racing to the car with James' legs attempting to weave him side to side.

"Come on...."

Her eyes darted left and right, her face a white mask as she opened the back door and fed James onto the back seat.

"You go there... I'll... I'll go slow... just..."

"Thanks Ppphoogggmmmsm" dribbled James, a bleary smile scrawled on his features, eyes unfocused. The world went dark as the car slowly pulled away under a sunny sky.

***

In a tiny flat close to the centre of the city, Bartender Clark Vincent Brown gingerly made his way to the kitchenette (taking two steps from the couch,) and winced as his asshole ached. It hadn't felt normal since that woman....

'Pounded me like a train.'

He whinnied, and took a few calming breathes, remembering her penis clogging his throat... the virile musk of it, the stench and tang filling his sinuses.

In fact, the stench was still very much apparent by how much had ended up in his stomach.

Trying not to get an erection, he shivered and began slowly collecting the ingredients he needed, eggs, some cheap meat, butter and oil.

Omelettes were quick and easy.... and they provided a contrast to frozen pizza.

Today, he just needed anything as long as it filled his stomach with something other than...

*THUD-THUD*

The hairs stood up on the back of his neck.

"Who... who is it...?" he murmured.

"You know who it is, slut," said the voice, gruff and deep.

Hormones in Clark's poor, newly adult body went into overdrive, adrenaline from fear, arousal and confusion beginning to course through his limbs.

"O-okay!....Oh... coming..."

He limped to the door.

"If ya don't open quickly, it's gonna be worse."

He sobbed and staggered the final few feet, grabbing at the latches, managing to peel them off and throw the door open.

His heart began to pound.

She stood larger than the frame, a bruising shadow falling across him.

"H... Hi... I thought...."

"Plans changed..." she spat, walking through him, Clark squeezed against the wall as she stomped into his room, scratching her hair. In the studio apartment, she looked like a full-sized bear had wandered in.

"Hnn... you got a TV right?"

"Y.. yes," he said, gesturing to the decent sized TV sat barely two metres from the sofa.

"Nice.... "

She grabbed the remote, hunched down on the sofa, making it look hilariously small as it creaked odiously under her weight.

Immediately Monster trucks were on the screen.

Sheila grunted and chucked the controller on the small space still on the sofa.

"I'll be here for a few days, maybe more."

"Oh... o-okay...."

He closed the door slowly, already eyeing her bulge nervously, walking slowly back to the ingredients sitting on his counter.

Just as he was about to turn the heat on, he heard a snap of Sheila's fingers.

When he looked, he knew what she wanted.

Clark turned the stove off, limped over, fell between her knees, and began to rub the huge bulge welded to her thigh.

Sheila grinned.

"You're gonna get some real life lessons boy, don't you worry about that."

Clark gulped, and gingerly unzipped Sheila's flies.