Meridsya's Pet 04: Enrichment

But, eventually, she tightened about my cock even more, a gasping note entered her voice, then she convulsed with an "OH FUCK, YES!"

It was glorious to watch.

She gasped for breath a few times, then looked down at me smugly as she combed her hair back with the fingers that had been on her breast and ostentatiously licked the fingers that had been at her clitoris.

"You are some sort of goddess," I said.

She languidly lowered her torso towards me, reaching out to pin my wrists to the bed as her breasts settled on my chest. "And you are going to come inside me now before you get to touch me again."

"Oh, blackmail, is it?" I asked with a grin, but I didn't resist her grip, instead settling back and rocking my hips against hers.

She smirked down at me. "The only question is..." her lips flirted with mine, pulling back just as I started lifting towards them, "do you want to be pounded, or milked?" she whispered.

"Mmm, milk me, Mistress," I murmured back.

She raised one eyebrow, then grinned. "I like men here, they know how to be properly respectful."

Then she began kissing me. It wasn't just passionate and hungry, it was demanding and consuming. She moved on top of me, not a single part of her body static as her head and lips, chest and breasts, hips, legs, all shifted snake-like to give me constant, slow stimulation while her lips moved around mine with varying angles and pressure and rhythm and speed in a display of consummate skill that would have made me melt even if we weren't well into the actual sex.

And as she did so, she moved over my cock, steady yet grinding half-strokes as her sinuous movement bent my cock from side to side, adding more varying stimulation, at a rhythm separate from the lifting and falling of her hips, which pressed into me while sliding sideways, then lifted, then pressed down with a different motion or the same.

It was maddening, concentration-destroying, utterly delicious. Masterful.

I wasn't just happy to lie submissive and receptive and let her milk me, I was overjoyed to be subject to her skill even more than I was overjoyed to be subject to her body.

And, once again: Knowing she was human, had no supernatural power to read me and manipulate my responses and wrap me with magic, made everything she did to me even more appreciated, even if it wasn't as effective. But appreciated means effective, where it counts.

She soon had me floating in bliss, as helpless as she had let me make her, feeling pressure building steadily although I tried to hold back simply to draw this out.

"Do you like submitting to me as much you like submitting to Meridsya?" Dervla murmured, her lips caressing the side of my face, along my cheek, to whisper directly into my ear. "Is it good enough to be caught in a tight cunt under a soft body? You clearly don't need to be held down."

That was almost certainly cheating. But it was too effective for me to complain.

I didn't try to answer. I just let myself move underneath her and moan, letting her hear the pleading in my voice, the need, the desire and arousal and nearness.

She chuckled, sucking lightly on my ear, then swirling her tongue around it. A technique I always enjoyed using because it was usually so effective, but so rarely had used on me. I wonder if she did it regularly herself, or if she was paying me back.

Either way, I didn't care. I moved underneath her again, more demandingly, letting my entire world be the feel of her lips on my skin, her hands on my wrists, her breasts on my chest, her belly on mine, her hips on mine, her thighs on mine, her cunt squeezing and pulling my cock.

"You're going to come inside me," she whispered straight into my ear, huskily this time, "because you don't have a choice. You're mine now."

I whimpered, the pressure now painful but my desire to prolong the pleasure greater than my desire for release.

"You're going to do what you're told. You can't resist me. Come, boy."

I cried out, and I came. Hard, explosively, and copiously.

#

"Mmm, you're almost as much fun on the bottom as you are on top," Dervla giggled, stroking my forehead.

I stretched a little, more to feel my body move underneath hers as because I needed it.

"'Almost'?" I murmured. "Well, I'm glad you think I'm that good, because you were utterly masterful."

"Aw, thank you," she said, slipping into playful ditziness for a moment, before kissing me commandingly again.

"Anyway," she said, propping her chin on her hands, her elbows on either side of my head. "Let's take a little break. What did you want to know?"

I put my hands behind my head, settling into the bed a little -- again, to feel her skin move against mine.

I opened my mouth to ask a question, then thought better of it and stopped. It sounded too close to the classic unaskable question.

She tapped my forehead. "Us humans need to stick together, dude. There are no bad questions. Ask."

"Do you want to clean up?" I asked, verbally side-stepping.

She grinned down at me. "Nope. I want you to stay inside me, hard. You're not getting out until we change position so you can fuck my doggy style and pull my hair, buster. I told you, I like it sloppy."

I shrugged, grinning back. "OK!" I ground my hips against hers, making her purr but not lose her concentration. She smirked at me.

"OK," I conceded. "How long have you been here?"

"Two-and-a-half years," she said.

I stared at her.

"Surprised?" she asked, sounding amused.

"I mean, Meridsya told me that humans tend to sort of wear out after many decades, but I'm still getting used to the idea that I'm going to be with her for at least a year."

Dervla nodded, serious now. "I was bought here by Eshirieth. After a year, she offered and I accepted. Another year, we were still happy together. Honestly, the only things I get curious about that Eshirieth doesn't provide, I get by being loaned out or given play dates. At this point, I'll be happy with her for another year after this. Also, I have no idea what I'd do if she said no."

I felt a moment of disquiet at that. I've never been great with change, or sudden periods of unemployment or looming homelessness.

"Do you have to say 'play date'?" I asked.

She grinned at me and booped my nose with one finger. "Yes."

I sighed but accepted it.

"How did she catch you?"

"Ah! Dear Playgirl, I never thought this could happen to me!" she exclaimed, then brushed a strand of hair off my face as she went back to being matter-of-fact. "I had always had a mostly secret fantasy of being fucked by someone so well I lost all control. I discovered mind-break hentai..."

I nodded. She smirked at me.

"And I discovered mind control porn and all of that, and it was one branch of the usually tediously predictable and bland male fantasies that really did it for me. Superheroine porn, that sort of thing. And then one week my fantasies turned to incubi and succubi, do not ask me why. Eshirieth assures me it wasn't her doing, she just found me after I had started. But I had fantasies about sex demons, and because I've always been healthily bisexual, sex-demonesses. And then one night..."

She took a deep breath. Was it my imagination, or could I feel her nipples hardening against my chest? I certainly felt her cunt squeeze about my cock.

"One night," she repeated, "I had the most incredible, intense, detailed, torrid, wild ..." she took her chin off her wrists so she could do "and so on" motions with both her hands for a second, "wet dreams of my entire life. And by wet, I mean that I woke up gasping, exhausted, drenched, with the bedclothes in a complete mess and also wrapped around one leg, and sore as all hell, and with a big damp spot on the bed. It was only the second time I had ever squirted, and the first one was when I really should have gone first, but he didn't notice it really was a bit more piss than squirt normally is."

I had to laugh along with her at that. "But I was so rattled I had to call in sick to work because there was no way I was going to be able to function after that. And got some housework done, and changed the sheets, and tried to do everything except think about it, except I kept having flashbacks. And then when I went to bed, I couldn't not think about it and had to try having a wank to get to sleep. And I remembered the dreams more and more vividly, and the feeling of being taken, and magically driven mad and helpless with lust, and ..."

Her hands were clawed next to her head, shaking with emphasis, and it was definitely not my imagination that her cunt was spasming about my cock, and I had to revert to self-control to stay concentrating on her story.

"And I came so hard I nearly hurt my back, and then I kept going! I hardly ever masturbated twice, and I just kept right on going! And I started moaning out 'Take me!' and 'I'm yours!' and 'I swear my soul to you, I'll be your servant for all eternity!' and a voice in my head said, 'Are you sure, slut?' And I screamed out 'YES, TAKE YOUR SLAVE!' and I came so hard I blacked out and ..." she spread her hands meaningfully.

"But just the one-year contract?" I asked, having to try very hard to control myself.

"Just the one year," she confirmed. "We had a good long chat -- during which I was nearly hysterical when I realised it was true and not just a fantasy -- and she explained about copying me, and that I was still in my bed, and she would stop tormenting me with dreams, and she was offering me exactly what I wanted and I wouldn't have to go to work or wear a bra ever again if I didn't want to, and I honestly could not say yes fast enough."

She laced her fingers under her chin and smiled sweetly down at me. "How about you? Bondage club, was it?"

"Well, technically. I was a regular at a goth club that shared the premises with a bondage club, and we had regular crossover nights, meeting in the middle, sort of thing. I usually picked up. There was an incredibly cute and incredibly flirtatious girl selling jewellery and it turned out that some of the jewellery was magical and she was being willingly possessed by a demon who was searching for suitable suspects."

Dervla laughed. "Oh, that's good!"

"So, why the, uh, costume?" I asked.

Dervla rolled her eyes so much that her irises nearly disappeared. "Ugh! That was Eshirieth's idea. When she said I was going to be a present for a new pet, I all innocently said I wanted to dress as a harem slave, and..." She took a deep breath. "Whoo, boy, did I get a talking to! About how I didn't understand harems, how the costume I was thinking of was fake, about erotic orientalism in the West... And then she said that if I wanted to wear something like that, I could wear something from my culture." She scowled.

"She picked it?" I asked.

"She picked it," Dervla said, flatly. "Not my idea. Not sure what I would have picked. Probably just fancy lingerie, but there I was, in a fucking slave Leia bikini that Eshirieth deliberately made at least one cup size too small for me."

"Yes, I noticed that," I said, straight-faced.

Dervla glared at me, but it changed to a smirk so quickly that I knew she had been faking it. "Of course you would. I would have been very put out if you hadn't."

"So, you told an ancient Persian succubus you wanted to wear..." I began.

"Yes! I know, it was my fault and I deserved it," Dervla said sulkily. "But, to be clear, Eshirieth didn't refuse to let me, an Irish Australian white chick, wear Persian or regional clothes, she just said I hadn't deserved them and didn't understand them. I never have, she's never mentioned it and I've never thought it was right, so I left it to her to tell me and she never has. I've never had fantasies of being kidnapped by some other cultures -- that's fucking racist bullshit -- just by a succubus. She was happy for me to swan around in modern lingerie and dresses. So, now she's going to teach me belly dancing so I can wear that costume and deserve it."

"You've never started until now?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"No, been busy with other things, I guess," Dervla confessed, scratching her head. "So: Anything else you want to know?"

As tempted as I was to ask how hard she liked her nipples sucked, I tried to be serious. "Have you ever been loaned to any demon who went past your limits?"

She shook her head. "I'm pretty sure it would only happen if I pissed off Eshirieth so much that she gave me to a demon who lived on pain. I've never met a sex demon who didn't adjust themselves to what made me come, and I've been shared with a fuckton of them."

"Oldest human you've met?"

She scratched her head. "Not sure," she confessed. "A decade, maybe? The topic hasn't really come up. Either a pet is new, or age just isn't important. I've wondered, sometimes, but haven't thought about it seriously."

I nodded slowly. "Do you ever get to talk to other humans without these dates?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm Eshirieth's kept pet otherwise."

"Can you request play dates?"

She frowned. "Sort of? I can say I'd like to try something, but sometimes she just taunts me with it, sometimes she says sure and finds me someone, sometimes she doesn't say anything but finds me someone anyway. I haven't actually felt the need to say 'hey, could I fuck a human?' because she always arranges a date, or agrees to one maybe, maybe the timing is lucky, before I feel like it. But no, outside of being shared out, the only entity I ever speak to is Eshirieth."

"Hmmm," I said, thinking about that. "OK. Any advice?"

"Remember you're human. Cherish that. Don't wish you could be more like them. Realise that you're valuable because of what you are, and you have something they want. Yes, I know that sounds like giving in, but remember you did desire this, and you did agree. It helps to stay grounded as human to remember the differences. I've been told this a few times, and I've seen a few people get grumpy and start ... feeling less human if they forget it. Can't really explain it."

I had to shiver, at that.

"OK, I'll remember to remember how lucky I am," I said, uncoiling my arms to stroke her back.

She smirked. "Damn right you are. Anything else?"

"Yes, do you like your nipples pinched?"

She smirked harder. "Pinched? Not so much. Massaged. Teased. Milked."

She pulled her knees up and lifted herself upright, making a show of lifting her arms to arrange her hair so her breasts lifted. "Worshipped," she said.

I ran my hands along her thighs, over her hips, up her waist, over her ribcage, towards her breasts as she laced her fingers behind her head and began rocking her hips on my cock again. I could feel my come lubricating things, and some even oozing out, but I didn't mind that if she didn't.

Finally, I slid my hands up her ribcage until my thumbs stroked along the undersides of her breasts -- making her purr -- then reversed direction to take my hands down the top slopes, following her breasts out without pressing, towards where her nipples were already erect.

I had been aching to do this since she first sat astride me. I never don't want to do this with any woman I sleep with. If they're dominant, I beg to touch their breasts while they sit on me, if they're submissive, I order them to sit on me and do the work while I play. If they're neither, particularly, I try to engineer things so that, at least once, I can lie underneath them and play with hanging breasts.

I love playing with breasts that rest upon a woman's chest while she lies underneath me, but that is not nearly as nice as playing with breasts that hang full and proud.

You can feel their weight, their pillowy softness, the always delightfully surprising firmness at their core, the hard, so sensitive nub at their tip. So unlike any other part of the body. Breasts offer so many possibilities like this: kneading, stroking, slapping, squeezing, pinching, tying, compressing or ballooning with straps or hands or ropes. Nipple torture. Few things give me quite such a thrill, when fucking a bondage submissive, as leading her around with two carefully placed finger-and-thumb pinches -- having her shiver with pain and the edge of fear as I hold her hard nipples and control her entire body and mind through them.

The only thing better than playing with breasts hanging from an upright torso is being cruel to breasts hanging from a horizontal torso. Suspension rigs and stocks are great for this, but so are simple handcuffs and a good bed headboard.

As I lay underneath Dervla, gazing with appropriate appreciation at her demon-refined body, I had to very strongly remind myself to stop at "firm".

But I didn't need much reminding -- she was already responding so well as I lifted and rolled and stroked and massaged and squeezed gently, individually and together and against her chest.

The rocking of her hips was becoming more demanding, a deeper and more powerful wave, and her cunt was once more tightening its grip upon my cock, and I hadn't even touched her nipples yet.

"Mmm, I love it someone really knows how to appreciate my breasts," Dervla murmured, her eyes hooded but bright. "Makes me feel so appreciated. So much a woman. So likely to enjoy riding his cock until I come."

I could not tell her how much I did appreciate her breasts, so I didn't try. I just kept going.

I could see her arms, her hands still behind her head, tighten, her elbows beginning to drift forwards as her head rolled slowly backwards and her cunt squeezed my cock with a grip I was beginning to relish and look forward to.

In response, I began squeezing a little harder. That worked so well I eased close to mauling them, almost tormenting, almost being cruel.

"Oh, yes! That..."

I stayed at that level, but it was almost academic anyway, because she almost immediately cried out and bounced on my cock as she shook.

I eased off then but kept going.

After a few moments of shaking, she let out a low chuckle and pulled her arms forwards, but instead of pulling my hands off her breasts, or even just pressing her hands over mine to make me stop for a minute, she leaned forwards to plant her palms on my chest.

"You have some magic hands," she said.

I moved, trailing my fingertips down her more pendulous breasts, until I could delicately squeeze her nipples.

She actually went cross-eyed, and her cunt spasmed.

"Now, what was it?" I asked. "Massaged?" Suiting actions to words, I gently palpated her nipples, rubbing lightly and encouraging blood flow.

She bit her lip, whimpered, and her hips ground against mine.

"Teased?" I brushed them lightly, tickled them gently, stroked them from breasts over aureoles then lifted off before touching the nipples themselves.

"You bastard," she whispered.

"Milked?"

I squeezed them from bases to tips, pulling them away from their breasts, then let them pop out of my fingers before repeating the process.

"Ohhhh..." Her eyes squeezed shut and her hips began desperately humping, fucking herself on my cock this time.

Oh yes, that was it.

"Worshipped?" I whispered as I began milking each one in turn.

"Oh, God," she wailed, the first time she had actually used that word.

"You're going to come. Because you don't have a choice," I said. "You're going to come on my cock, because you're mine."

"OH, GOD!"

And that was all it took, as I squeezed a little harder and held on.

As she recovered, I gently massaged her nipples and when she looked at me again, I saw she was already hot for the next time.

I jerked on her nipples, pulling her down towards me.

She yelped but dropped down.

"You want your hair pulled while I fuck you from behind?" I asked.

Wide-eyed, she nodded. "Yes, Master," she whispered.

I released her nipples to slap her arse. "Get off, then."

She lifted herself off my cock with almost unseemly haste.