Humiliation Junkie

It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to describe the pleasure in cum inflation to someone who's never experienced it. The sensation is just so unlike anything else, the feeling of fullness, the sensation of gallons of cum flowing inside of you... really though it is the subtle things that make the difference I find. What I can say, for certain, is that cum inflation isn't for everyone. And for those of us who are into it, each has his or her own reason. A gay friend of mine, for example, says he loves the feeling of being so full. A girlfriend of mine says she loves the sight of herself with a big cum belly in the mirror and pretends that she's pregnant. Me? The source of my attraction is nowhere near as wholesome.

"Good girl..." Master said, his voice just above a whisper. I could barely hear him from beneath his desk, or over the sound of me slurping up his cock for that matter.

I said nothing in reply. Not only had Master told me repeatedly that: 'jizz drains are best felt, not heard' there wasn't much I could say, his thick canine cock creating an almost airtight seal in my throat. So, I responded by increasing my efforts. Bobbing my head up and down his slobbery shaft faster and deeper than before, face fucking myself, spluttering and gagging, in pursuit of my creamy reward.

A smile played on the corners of my mouth. My labor was already being rewarded by a surprisingly loud moan from my Master above the desk and I could hear his tail beating against his chair. Master usually tried to keep quiet while we were banging, wanting to keep our little affair quiet even though it was an open secret him and I were fucking. He had once explained to me he liked to try to maintain 'plausible deniability', in case the bar ever launched any sort of ethics complaint. Not that, so far as I'm aware, its against the law to fuck your law partner's barely legal daughter, it still didn't look good.

...

Our relationship started a little over a year ago, right after my 18th birthday. As an aspiring lawyer, my dad had allowed me to throw the party in his law office after hours. He told me that it might look good later in life if I could share with prospective employers that 'I loved the law so much my 18th birthday was in a law office!" Personally, that sounded hackneyed and too fake sounding to ever be taken seriously. But that was dad for you, constantly looking for the angles and taking the long shots. It was at that party, however, that my life changed forever.

A friend of mine had snuck a flask of whisky into the party. Not that dad would have cared anyway, if not for mom I'm pretty sure he would have offered to bring the booze himself. He'd started drinking at a young age and, as he'd repeatedly bragged, "I turned out fine!"

I had drank before, but mostly light stuff like beer and the occasional small glass of wine. As such, I wasn't used to how fast I'd get this drunk on the hard stuff. About an hour into the party, I was already blitzed and not handling it well. I needed to get away from the fellow party guests and stumbled into what, I had thought, was the women's bathroom on the executive floor, expecting the floor to be empty on a Saturday night. Instead, I found dad's junior law partner jacking off his considerable penis inside a condom with a look of almost pain on his face.

"Oh my god!" I giggled loudly, drunkenly. "Is that your cock! It's fucking massive!"

I know what you must be thinking about my Master, but let me reassure you he did nothing untoward that night. He did his best to try to say no, but I practically forced myself onto him. I mean, besides the biggest dick I've ever seen in my life, he is just SO my type. I mean, he is hung like a racehorse? But handsome, tall, rich and packing the sort of heat that would make the most seasoned porn star blush? What isn't there to like? Later, I would come to find out, wasn't just a pretty package. He knew how to fuck too.

He had turned me into his "oral only" slut after that night, telling me I could have "all the cock I wanted" but only orally. Furthermore, he wouldn't risk losing his wife and kids over pussy. "I would rather not end up like your old man. I caught him balls deep in his secretary a few years ago. Biggest reason why I made partner." It was a crass way to talk about a man in front of his daughter, but my dad's cheating was an open family secret. As long as mom could keep her head buried in the sand, what dad did in his time was dad's business. I didn't mind being Master's oral-only slut. I found fulfillment in other ways.

...

"Good girl..." He repeated, slightly louder and in the present. This time gently taking hold of the back of my head. He was getting close, in the year since I'd become his personal 'suck pet' I'd become very familiar with his little idiosyncrasies; both inside and outside the bedroom... or office in this case.

The first sign was when he'd reach behind my head and began to caress my hair. He'd start gently and then get rougher, gripping tighter and forcing my head down, as he neared orgasm. I find there are, generally, two types of men during a blow job. Those that let you set about your task, and those that try and get more involved: grabbing your hair or trying to force your head down. Personally, I prefer those that let you do your job, it always leads to much better head that way. I do know what I'm doing, I've had more than enough practice, after all. For the most part, Master lets me set my pace and take care of it, but as release gets closer he starts to get handsy. Not long after the head grab comes affection, or at least as close as Master ever gets to showing me any affection. He starts showering me with praise, telling me what a good girl I am or how I've done such a great job draining his balls. If he's really feeling it, he'll go as far as to say he'll 'make me his' but I know that's just talk. We'll never have that type of relationship. He's married with children, after all. The last sign, when his ejaculation down my throat is intimate, is all physical. I'll feel it in his shaft, sometimes even see it in his balls, as they throb under the tension of release. That's when I know to cram as much air into my lungs as I can. Some days he preferred to spay it against my face or cleavage, but that was rare. Master didn't like messes, so he usually blasted his hot thick cum down the back of my throat instead. Besides, Master cums so much, it's impossible for me to swallow all of it! Typically, plenty ends up on my face and cleavage, with a facial or not.

I could hear him grunt and feel his wolf cock twitch. Here it comes! I thought to myself, my tail wagging as I prepared for the usual deluge of cum.

Hyperspermia, that's what Master called it. I wasn't certain if it was a bullshit excuse, it sounded like the sort of thing that a guy would say in a weak attempt to justify his cheating. Still, BS or not, my Master sure did pump out cum like a fire hose. It was another reason I liked him so much. It was at least a gallon, maybe even two or three, with every load he shot. It filled my stomach and left my face a slobbery, cum drench, mascara running mess every time he was done with me and I would waddle out of his office like the cum drunk whore I was.

"Shit!" Master cursed, causing my tail to wag. When he cursed like that, I knew I was in for a particularly full load! It had been a couple of days since I'd serviced him. I assumed the guilt of cheating on his wife with a 19-year-old had gotten to him lately, and he was trying to quit me... again. But he always came crawling back. "It's the condition." He'd always say after I hadn't heard from him in a few days. I wasn't ever quite sure if he was trying to reassure himself or me. Maybe, if I was lucky, I could even pump two loads out of him today?

He pressed not one but both his hands behind the back of my head, shoving the last inch or two of his cock down my throat. With his impressive arm strength, Master both fucked my throat and pinned my head in place, as if I'd even want to escape. But I wasn't going anywhere, restrained or not, I wanted his load. There were times, usually during 'post nut clarity' when I wondered why I wanted to swallow my Master's load so badly, but I didn't have time to ponder that at the moment. I was too busy chasing his cum... and that's when it finally happened.

I could feel the throbbing of his cock reach its zenith, causing my eyes to roll back in my head and my eyelids to flutter. My bushy tail, which had been wagging frantically, came to a sudden stop. It stood ramrod straight, flagging my immense desire. Master's shaft bulged in my throat as rope after rope of hot, thick, sticky cum was pumped directly into my gut. As he filled my stomach, I could feel the buttons of my blouse growing tight and even the sound of fabric tearing as both my body and clothes started reaching their limits. Then one by one my buttons gave way under the immense pressure, pinging off the floor, walls, desk, and even Master's legs. Master liked it like that. He always instructed me to wear a button down shirt so he could pop them off. It was rather annoying, and my shirt budget had gone through the roof, I never disobeyed or even questioned my Master.

Still, even as my shirt gave way, his cum continued to flow causing my belly to continuously swell outwards, I'm pretty sure bigger than it ever had before. I was starting to feel great discomfort. Like eating way too much after a meal, and then having even more shoved down your throat when you thought you'd finished eating. The discomfort, while not adding to my pleasure, didn't exactly subtract from it either. Finally, after what felt like hours, his orgasm began to subside and his cock both softening and dribbling out cum slowly left my mouth, squirting a few hefty spurts of jizz into my fur, making a mess of my face. Although I was proud of myself, very proud, over how little cum actually came pouring out of my mouth when he was done using my throat. Still, there was more than enough spunk to make an absolute mess of my face and cleavage. Rivers of cum running down out of my abused throat.

I gasped for air, but otherwise the room was quiet as we both returned to earth. "Please Master." I finally managed, my pussy feeling on fire thanks to my arousal. "Will you fuck my pussy?"

"No, bitch, I told you." He snarled, pushing his chair back so I could crawl out from under his desk. I'd already known what the answer would be, but I'd asked anyway. The verbal abuse was almost as welcome as actually getting my vagina filled.

Almost.

I did my best to remember every shameful moment, knowing reliving every detail big and small would be how I got my pleasure from this afternoon. I slowly crawled out from under his desk, struggling with my cum stuffed belly, and left the office without another word. I stumbled nervously into the lobby just outside his office, thankful to find it empty. While it was the shame and humiliation of being Master's oral only cum dump that got me off, I didn't actually want anyone to see me like this! Besides, if word got back to daddy, it might get Master in trouble. I checked my watch, realizing the lunch hour was almost over! I groaned, knowing I had to hurry my way out of there before I was discovered... and get back to my office, where my internship was, all the way across town.

I hurried towards the back stairwell that was rarely used. It was a huge pain in the ass, waddling my way down four flights of stairs. I didn't have a choice, though, I needed to get out of the building undetected, and stairwell C provided the most privacy. Plus, it would let me out of the building right by the dumpsters where I parked my car. Thankfully, I made it without detection but as I fumbled for my key fob all of a sudden my phone rang. I answered it, thinking it might be my boss wanting to know where in the hell I'd gotten off too... instead it was my Master, calling with one last verbal barb before I left.

"I like seeing you down by those dumpsters." He began, and I looked up to see him with his cock still out and pressed against his office window.

"You sure know how to walk to a lady." I laughed while shaking my head up at him.

"Maybe, maybe not. But I do know how to talk to my oral only whore, don't I?"

"Yes, Master." I practically whispered into the phone as he suddenly hung up, and I got inside my car, pushing the seat back to make room between the steering wheel and my belly. As I climbed inside, I knew I needed to take off, I was going to be late enough getting back to the office as it was! Yet, despite knowing better, I couldn't help myself. I needed it.

I snuck my hand around my belly and shoved it down the hem of my skirt and into my panties and frantically began to play with myself. "Holy fuck..." I whimpered under my breath, hoping the Master was watching and could still see me. "Holy fuck did I need this." I whispered to myself, my back arching off the driver's seat as I got of to my own degradation.