Sephalla, My Nightmare Ch. 09

It's that duality, of course. That disturbing distance between the two parts of the whole. That I want to rule her, but be ruled by her. That I want to conquer her, but be conquered as well. That I want to see her belly fat with my child, yet want my own guts fat with the rich creamy goo of her big beautiful black bollocks. And in this moment, the conquered, the submissive, the ruled, is the side which sings the loudest.

'No,' I say, truthfully. 'No, Mistress, I can't.'

She pats my head again, then holds the grip firm. Warm fingers, silken touch, gentle yet suggestive of sublime strength. 'Then make it real, cumslut. Make it real.'

And now, I stumble a little. Shiver, as if I'm new to this and only now learning my place. Only now experiencing this explosive eroticism. Jesus Christ, her cock is beautiful. She's gorgeous, but my attention is seized wholly by that beast between her thick thighs, stood almost upright before me through infernal intensity above a low-sagging sextet of sperm-stuffed orbs in their velvety blue-black sack.

Make it real. Yes, that's the hope. Yet my fingers tremble and twitch as I reach for her throbbing titan, as if this is the very first time. The heat it radiates, the space it takes up in the world, are both monumental. There's something about this act, this kinky role-play, that makes the whole situation new again. Restores in me some virginal shyness, some state of sensual submissiveness.

'You're so big, Mistress.' I finally manage to get my shaky fingers against the smouldering solidity of her shaft, the flesh lustrous and lust-amplifying. 'So big...'

My voice trails off as I lean closer on instinct, cock-craving, hungrily horny. The warmth of her wonderful weapon heats my face as I come within inches of its magnificence, suiting her excellently, its wild smoky demonic smells inflaming my senses and causing me to salivate intensely.

Mwah. Smack.

'Ooh. Good boy. Good pet.'

The first kiss is promptly followed by a second, planted upon the underside of her pole, against the throbbing cum canal that waits patiently to deliver unto my tastebuds a feast of devilish dick milk. Slowly but worshipfully I slide my hands down her length, appreciating its sturdiness, its sheer virility and vigour.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

Mlep. Schlup. Smooch.

Sephalla, my nightmarish mistress, tangles her fingers through my hair and smiles down at me with infernal intent. 'You look like you belong there, Jakey. You sure you don't want to--ugh--alter our deal? Live on your knees forever?'

I blush, and smirk, and kiss the side of her rod. 'Permission to break character?'

'Denied,' Seph says, her own cheeks reddening, her eyes flush with that same duality of emotions that rumbles about in the core of me. 'But...given that we're in-character, anything you say is just for the sake of enjoying ourselves.'

'In which case,' I say, taking a moment to slide the flat of my tongue against the side of her horse cock, getting a good taste of salty smokiness, 'I very much want to live on my knees for you, Mistress. Forever and ever. I'm just a toilet for your lovely loads.'

She bucks all of a sudden, firming up her grip on my head and grinding her colossal cock against me. The towering inferno presses into my lips, writhes against my cheek, takes control of my head as though I'm her toy to the extent that her flared horse helmet disappears behind my shoulders.

'You are,' Sephalla says, stabilising her shaft with her other hand. Holding it in place, holding my head -- lips first -- against it, my whole body trembles with every throb of her fierce futanari fuck-stick. 'You're going to milk me for breakfast, and for lunch, and for--mhm--dinner, cumslut. By the end of the day there's going to be more of my sperm inside of you than there is in me. How does that make you feel? Is anything in the world so fucking perfect?'

Smack. Mwah.

I kiss her, smooch her, try to shake my head but fail. The side of her mighty member spreads my lips and rests roughly between them, pulsating powerfully with its naughty neediness. To be at her mercy like this is a thing of beauty, intimidating and deeply arousing. She's so much bigger than I am, so much stronger, pure demon and all woman. Dick and balls happily included.

Schlep. Mlap. Schlup.

Instinct and initiative both ensure I suckle on the side of her pole, tasting the salty smokiness of that wonderful glaze coating her shaft from its time spent in her sheath. Sephalla exhales sharply, producing twin plumes of ash and glory, the cloudiness dissipating into the air within a moment's passing.

'Good boy,' she says, holding back a grunt. It slips out, of course. 'Ughn. Such a good little cocksucker, Jakey. Make me proud.'

She keeps her cock wedged between my lips, holding me firmly, preventing me from doing anything beyond appreciating the side of her slickness. Its potent tastes fill my mouth as I suckle upon it, flicking my tongue about, appreciating and enjoying. The responsive implement of exquisite intimacy pulsates and throbs, needy and naughty, demanding more and more effort on my behalf.

Mlep. Schluck. Slurp.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

I moan sweetly, mouth plugged, as I bring my hands forwards to play with her large and lovely loins. That sublime sextet of sperm-makers, dangling away beneath her huge horse cock, call to me like little else in the world. I shiver simply to touch them, to crudely cup one in each hand, marvelling at their massiveness. Hugely fat and heavy, the skin lustrous and loose, the whole region radiating warmth and suggestive of tremendous virility and vigour.

'Cumdump.' Sephalla struggles not to chuckle as she says it. 'Cumslut. Seed-sucker. Dick-toilet. Isn't that all you are, Jakey? My cock worshipper?'

'Mhm-hm.'

I manage an affirmative moan, just about moving my head in some shoddy attempt at nodding agreement. My cheeks are aflame, my mouth loaded with saliva -- not that it does anything to dilute her futanari flavours -- and my dick is sore where it tents against my trousers, throbbing away, demanding release. More than that: demanding her release.

And in a passing heartbeat I realise that I'm finally, at last, getting into character. Finally, at last, realising that I can forget the outside world and the rules beyond this week, beyond this singular instance. There's nothing to be lost in submitting to the woman I love, playing the game I agreed to play, and going all-in on it. For when I meet her eyes, those coal-seam fires burning bright amidst her baleful black-blue beauty, I know I can trust in her.

I can let go.

'Good boy,' she says, as if seeing the shift in me. Seph's grip on my head weakens, replaced by gentle stroking and patting. 'Are you ready to do your job, suck-slave?'

Mwah. Schlep.

Leaving her leviathan with a kiss and a suckle, I withdraw a few inches. Firm and mighty as it is, it springs straight the moment she releases it, slapping the side of my face with a pleasing splack where moistness impacts dryness. I suck in a breath, lick my lips, and smile up at her.

'Of course, Mistress. I know my place. I'm your cumdump. Your suck-slave.'

Sephalla shudders, the look of ecstasy in her eyes brightening as my words sink in. She gives my head a pat and brings her hands back to her sides, resting them against the front edge of the filing cabinet upon which she sits.

'That's what I like to hear, Jakey.' The naughty nightmare widens her stance, dragging her big-booted feet to the sides, giving me plenty of room to work in. 'Take care of me, and take your time. I don't give a fuck if we're late to first period.'

Neither do I. Nothing matters beyond the confines of this room, nothing has any importance. My woman, my Mistress, my gorgeous dickgirl goddess, smiles down at me. Her delicious demonic dick rests against my neck, its huge horse-like helmet out of sight for the moment. I take one last look at her body, breathing her in, relishing the size of her mammoth mammaries and her heavy hips, the sensual sag of those tremendous testicles, the way her living-flame pubes shiver and swirl, and then bring my hands up from her nuts to take hold of her cock around the rigid ring which marks the distinction between shaft proper and the sheath from which it originates.

'God, you are the best thing that ever happened to me.'

It slips out without me even realising, some romance to dilute the kinkiness. My attention drifts solely to her captivating cock, which I'm in no rush to part ways with. I sniff its perverse glory, inhale her potent scents, and apply a sweet and dutiful kiss to the shaft where it's nearest to my face.

Mwah. Mlep.

A lick naturally follows, and before I know it I'm making my way down her pole, moving towards those stupendously fat nuts dangling beneath it. I give some attention to every vein I pass, to every inch of her indigo impressiveness, adoring the silken softness of her schlong's skin. It throbs against my hands, that bulky band particularly noticeable between my palms, inspiring the powerful urge to feel it kiss my lips as she truly impales my skull.

Schlep. Smooch.

I've no interest in tugging her. To accelerate the process is anathema to our interests here, to the act of cock worship. Instead I dip lower, bringing my mouth to the underside of her ridiculous rod, pressing my lips against that swollen cum canal in some show of servitude and sluttiness.

'Ugh. Good boy.'

Her words of approval warm me, light a furnace of satisfaction in my soul. To please her is everything, to submit to her all. Smack. Mlap. Smooch. Schlep. I can't quite snog her dick, not from this angle at least, but I do my best, and the sordid sloppy sounds which echo around the small storage room highlight that in earnest. Every note plays back to me, highlighting my depravity, my servitude.

The same with her moans, which are the sweetest things. The same with the slight creaking of the metal cabinet where she shifts her weight atop it, or the dragging of her boot's rubber soles against the carpet. Faint sounds elsewhere, but here, with just us, with such close confines, every single one has an importance beyond the obvious.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

My sluttiness joins the mix, naturally. The taste of her titan, that ridiculous reproductive organ, the perfect penis of a demonic horse dickgirl, might as well be etched into me at this point. I can't get enough of it, and I'm not even lavishing in her precum just yet. Let alone the luxuriousness of her sperm, the ultimate glory of all of this.

'Mhm. Aah.'

The sweetness of her sighs dials up to eleven the moment I slip my hands from that band atop her sheath and replace them with my lips, my tongue. Schlep. Slup. Mwah. It's clearly super sensitive, given how readily it causes her to tremble, how it strikes silence into her domme-mode heart.

It's such an interesting thing, as well. Thick and firm, demarcating the lustrousness of her pole from the faint leathery nature of her base, and the dividing line between the flavours of her dick proper and the mere saltiness of her sweat. It's practically as long as my cock is hard, she's simply that massive. And here I stay for a few drawn-out moments, returning my hands to her big balls while my mouth extends her enjoyment, taking good care of my magnificent Mistress.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

Smooch. Schlup. Slurp.

'Fuck, Jakey. You're such a dirty little whore, aren't you? I'm surprised you ever--ugh--thought about women, given how natural a cocksucker you are.'

Now that is properly degrading. That is a remark cutting enough for me to hesitate, humiliation a touch beyond my expectations. 'You're so mean, Mistress.'

'Am I?' She moves with supernatural swiftness again, but this time merely brings a finger up beneath my jaw. With the faintest of urging she lifts my gaze to meet hers, and from this angle it's a bit of a struggle to look past those behemoth breasts. 'Let's be real, slut. You're treating me like a goddess. You want what only I can give you. You want that belly to grow fat with me, don't you? You want to taste what a real dick can produce. It's so fucking obvious.'

I tremble, for her voice is perfect, every word spoken by it at once depraved and divine. She's...she's not wrong, is she? There's something about this huge horse cock, demonic or otherwise, that conjures an interest. That part of me, so eager to be less than her, to obey her, to belong to her and be used by her, cannot help but adore the idea of being absolutely loaded with her spooge. To appreciate her body in the most primal way imaginable, to gulp down what it produces, to honour her as my superior by accepting her into my belly and, as I know all too well, into my very soul.

'Not for anyone else,' I say, giving her bulky band a kiss. Smooch. 'Only for you, Mistress. It's only your dick I dream of. Only your seed I crave. But...you're right, otherwise. You're completely right, and you're the only person I'll admit that to.'

Sephalla the Magnificent lives up to her name, in this moment. I must catch her off-guard, for her eyes widen and her cheeks grow redder, but she reclaims control with a lascivious licking of her lips and a smile that could end wars. Perfect pearly teeth behind those full curvaceous clips, fangs passingly on show, her beauty a thing that words can't quite capture.

'Thank you, Jake. I'm really, really glad. Nothing is so satisfying as knowing that you're digesting my cum. Like seriously, it's stupidly hot.'

Smack. Mwah. 'I know the feeling, Mistress. Are you done mocking me for the moment, or can I get back to my purpose in this world? I'm in no rush to end things, but I am really excited to be full of your genes.'

She chews her lower lip and strokes at my chin, eyelids fluttering. 'You say all the right things, you perfect little cocksucker.' Pulling away her hand again, the nightmare snorts smoke, and shudders noticeably. 'Go on, cumdump. Tend to me. Earn that morning load.'

'Thank you, Mistress. I fully intend to.'

I dip my head down, and kiss the tops of her big, sperm-filled balls. Mwah. Smooch. It's important to attend to them, after all. To ensure that what comes out of her tremendous thickness is the very best her body can offer to her personal spunk-swallower.

Their heat makes my lips tingle where I brush against them, that sublime sextet. Each is the size of a large orange, big and round, a fat and infernal horse testicle bursting with would-be foals. The way they touch against my cheeks, the faint and ferocious pulses that seem to ripple through them -- suggestive of her power, her virility -- chills me despite the fire which seems to emanate from this entire region.

Seph twitches, the cutest of movements for someone so tall and fierce. Her nuts are as sensitive as mine, despite her demonic nature. Each kiss, the momentary meeting of my saliva-slicked lips and the scrotal skin that separates her balls from my mouth, results in the faintest of relieved exhalations. Or are they instead the tell-tale markers of a growing tension within her?

Smack. Mwah. Smooch.

I lose myself in the act of romancing her loins, treating them like lovers, each in turn. Of course, it's one thing to attend to those closest to the front, and it grows progressively harder, progressively more involved, to deliver my affection to the second row, and then the third. Little by little I find myself engulfed by them, face buried in the liquorice darkness of her lustrous leathery sack.

'Mhm. Jake.'

No slave, no slut, no cumdump. Just my name, and somehow, it wields all the same intensity as one of those perverse pet names. I like being Jake, for her. For her, when she says it, it's so much different. For her, it has a degree of importance that no other name carries.

Mlep. Smooch. Smack. Schlap.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

'Ooh. Fuck.'

Sephalla's grunt is a glorious thing, filling me with the pride I only achieve in either ruling or being ruled by her. For there is, much as it seems counterintuitive, a kind of profound power present here even though I'm on my knees, even though I'm openly engaged in the process of working to ultimately thank her for letting her load my mouth with a steaming feast of thick equine-demon seed.

This game we play is all about taking turns, trusting one another, treating each other right. As I grapple with her gigantic balls, sliding my tongue about them to taste the salty smokiness of her flesh, never has it been more obvious. She's so vulnerable here, and not simply in terms of biology. In fact, biologically, I'm sure her loins would break a regular person's fist.

But I've chosen to submit, and to turn back on her now, to reject what we're building, would be like a knife to the heart. Sephalla isn't like this for anyone else, doesn't dare relax into her sexual urges in the wider world. Rolling my tongue about in circles across her nuts, one after the other, teasing out the distinct vastness of their contours through the silken smoothness of her sack, I wish I could see her eyes. Wish I could watch the particular faces she pulls, the satisfaction prominent therein.

Slup. Mlap. Smooch. Mwah.

I leave her balls sticky with spit, the physical sign of my appreciative lust directed towards her. Her scent and taste are rich in my senses, brilliant in their differences, their similarities. The endless appeal of this pseudo-bestial state of things, that she's so different to a human, at once animalistic and demonic, transcendent, at the same time.

'Jake...'

'Stop, Mistress,' I say, pulling back slightly. 'Remember who I am to you right now.'

'You're really okay with me being, y'know?'

'Dirty? Mean? Fuck yeah. It's you. I trust you, Seph. You're mine, and I'm yours. We own each other, heart and soul. Right?'

Leaning back enough, I meet her eyes. Find there something unusual, but not completely unfamiliar. A hint of reticence, again? A suggestion that the mask is slipping, the hardness cracking, the sweetheart beneath the rough exterior continuing to slip through?

'You're so, so good to me.' Sephalla brushes at the back of my head, plays with my hair, and then says, 'Cumslut. Do your fucking job.'

'Anything for you, Mistress!'

The act reaffirmed, I resume my worshipping of her nuts, happily bouncing them about against my face as if motorboating a pair of breasts. Well, six breasts, in this case. Their warmth and heaviness slaps lavishly against my cheeks, wonderful and wicked. Schpap, schpap, schpap. It's a perfect sound, sensual and sublime, pairing perversely with the sensations of size and stickiness from where I've lapped and loved her titanic testicles.

There's something in me, I realise, with every passing moment, that seems to be in a strange communion with her body. It makes sense, that part of me is now permanently engraved with her essence. My soul itself, stained with her seed. But it's still overtly weird, to feel this "calling", this new sense that's not any of those I'm at all familiar with.

'Mistress...what's this feeling in me?'

She chuckles, pats my head. 'It's nothing to be scared of, slut. It's just that part of you, now.'

'That part of me?'

'Yeah. The part that belongs to me. That knows it belongs to me.' She applies a sudden forcefulness to the back of my scalp, crushing my face against the bouncy behemoths dangling below her horse cock. 'You know what my body is going to give you, cumdump. You've felt it before, and it's intrinsic to you now. Etched into you. You're not addicted, or anything like that, but...there's a bond between us. It's going to make everything way, way better.'

'Mumph. Mhm.'

Schpap, schlup, schpap, mwah, schpap, mlep.

I continue my carnal ministrations, though Mistress Sephalla takes control of the positioning of my face. She holds me in that humid sanctuary, guides me about, ensures that her naughty nuts continue to dance and wobble against my cheeks, engulfing my jaw, darkening my vision with their all-encompassing enormity.