Sephalla, My Nightmare Ch. 09

A sense I very much do understand begins to build, responding to that novel one. Hunger. I skipped breakfast, yes, but I hadn't quite anticipated this degree of bodily interest in the contents of her loins. Sexual? Sure. But the meeting of such a basic need? Both unexpected, and unequalled. The mundane manifested in the shape of the vulgar, surging up within me, a deviant delight.

There's something powerful, about oral sex involving a cock. Culture doubtless plays so key a role, and yet humans have always put a great deal of importance upon certain qualities. Semen, out of the penis and testicles, has a mythical magic surrounding it. It which conceives offspring, it which represents virility, it which marks and claims and conquers.

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

And as Seph's nuts wobble and shudder against my face, as her strong-swimming sperm cells anticipate their approaching freedom, I can't help but want to be marked by her, claimed by her, conquered by her. The admittance was true, after all.

I want to be her cumslut, and I want it like nothing else on Earth.

'Mhistress,' I manage to say, muffled by her loins. 'Mhistress, plhease lhet mhe tahste yhou...'

Her lusty laughter is profound, spine-tingling. Happy and horny, at once playful and mocking, perfectly attuned to her current mood. Mistress Magnificent softens her grip on me, gliding her fingertips about between my ears.

'I suppose you have done a wonderful job so far, haven't you?' She coaxes me with her idle fondling, somehow suggestive. The mixture of her words, her intonation, her gentle toying. 'Kiss your way up to the prize, cumdump. Do that, and I'll happily grace your filthy tongue with my pride.'

Words fail me, for my body moves ahead of my capacity for language. I should thank her, praise her, but I do so using my lips and tongue in a rather different manner. Mwah. Mlep. Smooch. In an instant I find myself beneath her beautiful behemoth, applying my affection to that interesting place where the dark indigo of her shaft proper leaves behind the black-blue of her furless sheath.

The heat is lightning against my lips, salty and smoky upon my tongue. My naughty nightmare widens her gait to its limits, her boots almost pressing against the front of the overturned metal cabinets. Knees trembling with anticipation, awaiting the true beginning of my final act of the morning, her responsiveness invites a sense of pride I don't feel in other activities. Nothing makes me happier than taking care of the woman I love.

'Mhm. Mhm-hm.'

Smack. Mwah. Smooch. Mlap.

'Ooh. Good slut. Nice and slow, nice and slow...'

As if I need to be told to take my time, when all I want is for this to last forever. Each pressing of my mouth upon her monster gains less than an inch, and Sephalla has many, many inches. Her cock is, in truth, massive even for her size, at a little over three feet in length. It suits her, all the same. Suits her especially, when we're playing this particular game.

Mlep. Smack. Mwah.

'Good boy,' Mistress says, as happy with me as I am with her. 'Do your best to look at me while you work your way up. That's a good cocksleeve.'

I tilt my head this way and that with each smooch upon the thick cum vein that runs along the underside of her dick, meeting her gaze with every movement. Those coal-seam fires she calls eyes, intense and aglow, evil stars captured in the most sublime of visages. Sephalla meets my attention with her own, and I'm at her mercy, completely beholden to her beauty, her unspoken dominance.

Her massive member shudders and throbs as I near the halfway point, taking hold of it around the sheath to faintly steady it while I continue on. The towering inferno's lips glisten wetly as she smirks, confidence oozing from her expressive equine looks. A monster-girl, gorgeous and gothic, finer in form and features than anyone I've ever met before in my life.

'That's it. Keep looking at your Mistress. Keep--aah--working towards your prize...'

I can barely handle the excitement, as if this is new and special, as if this is the very first time we've ever done this together. The heat of her body sears my lips, her strong sensual scent fills my nostrils. Inch after inch after inch, kiss after kiss after kiss, and I shiver the moment her shaft begins to flare out towards its fat-headed conclusion. The beginning of her glans is marked by a bulky band, not dissimilar in texture and rigidity from that ring that culminates her sheath.

Simply brushing against it with my lips sends chills through me. I know what comes next, know how close I am to engaging in the deliciously dutiful act that each of us desires like nothing else in the world.

Schlep. Mlap. Smooch.

I pay extra attention to the liminal spot, the demarcation between shaft and head, watching with pride as the dominant dickgirl fights back against the urge to moan and whimper, to perhaps even praise me for being so very good to her. All I want right now is to hear that, to pleasure her and be thanked for it, to free her of this big and burdensome load and lavish in the affection it earns me. And, of course, to bloat my belly with her perverse produce.

'You really want me to shoot a--mhm--heavy one, don't you? All this teasing, all this toying. You're such a dirty little cumslut, Jakey. Imagine what people would say about you, if they knew the kind of faces you pull when trying to milk a stallion of her--ughn--sperm.'

'I don't care,' I say between laps and kisses. 'I'm a human, and you're a demon. This is just the' -- schlup, smack -- 'natural order. There's no finer gift, Mistress, than the honour of being able to kneel for my dark goddess and service her big, powerful penis.'

'Ughn. Jake...'

Mwah. Schlep. Slurp. Mlap.

Sephalla loses herself in the surge of pleasure as I lose myself in making love to the broad bulk of her cockhead. The lustrous flare, vaguely heart-shaped, with its central vertical cleft and appealing aperture tucked between the juicy bulges of demonic horse dick on either side of it, might as well be her mouth.

It comes so naturally, to treat it with such amorous affection, to snog it like it were my lover's lips. Sliding my tongue across its contours, it responds by oozing copious quantities of sticky sliminess, salty and smoky, inhuman and intense. My dick aches with the knowledge that even this, her mere precum, contains her seed, her would-be foals, and it excites me to even greater heights of horniness. My slapping lips and thirsty tongue fill the small room with the naughtiness of our play, make unmistakable the sound of sordid sensuality.

'Mhm. Mhm-hm.'

Smack. Slurp. Mlep. Smooch.

'Good boy,' Sephalla says. 'Aahn. Good cumslut.'

She roughly tussles my hair, and I can't resist parting my lips and sliding them around the broad flare of her helmet. The urge to pleasure her, the urge to taste her, the urge to earn more and more of her drug-like praise, is too much to handle.

Without difficulty, thanks to all of that delicious lube leaking from her monster member, I manage to take her into my mouth properly. The invasion of heat is divine, demonic, warming the inside of my face as if handling a strangely pleasant hot coal. My eyelids flicker and flutter, and my cock feels as though it's going to poke a hole in the front of my trousers.

Schlup. Schlap. Slurp.

I'm sucking dick again, sucking Sephalla's dick again, but it feels different today. Maybe I'm in just the right headspace, because this feels like my purpose, my place in the world. To suck cock, to taste semen, to forget that I'm a man, that I've got a dick of my own, and live only to serve hers. To be nothing more than a face-hole, for the dickgirl demoness to use as she sees fit.

'Ooh. Dirty little slut, aren't you? Hungry for me. Guh. So fucking hungry.'

She slips her hand back behind my head and assumes some semblance of control, guiding me a little deeper with every passing moment. Her breathing quickens, and my tongue shivers with every glistening dollop of pre-seed she rewards it with for its tantalising efforts. Her taste is so rich, so powerful, and so crudely caught up between the realms of animalistic and infernal.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

I find myself moaning around her helmet, face speared with the thing. It glides back and forth as I go with her urging, her gentle yet determined guidance, and quakes powerfully as it slides across my tastebuds. Lustrous, yes, but incredibly firm, solidly rigid, built out of raw and unfaltering hardness.

Swallow, swallow, swallow. Getting my throat lubed-up for the inevitable, well-aware that before long she's going to guide me to take as much of it as I can inside my face-hole, this mouth-pussy for her use alone.

Schleck-slurp, schlack-schlup, schlip-glugp.

'Mhm. That's it, cumslut. Deeper. Be my sheath, accept your p-lace.'

Sephalla groans, speaks breathily, as her battering ram pushes against the opening of my throat. The heat is tremendous, like a captured flame that causes no pain, a testament to her infernal and impressive nature. She pokes at my tonsils, forces me against them time and again, filling the room with the abject dirtiness of her assault upon my mouth.

What was meant to be a worshipful blowjob has transitioned, as a result of her ignited appetites, into something bordering on a face-fuck. I'm dimly aware of my memories of that first time, of being used like a cocksleeve for her to dump all of that demonically delicious spooge into. Aware, shamefully, that I enjoyed it. Aware that as much as I struggled with Sephalla's nature, I was always captivated by how attractive she is.

'Mhm-hm. Mhmf.'

My dick aches, swollen and needy, pressing against my boxers. Nothing turns me on half so much as Seph does, and it's only exaggerated by perverse thoughts which result from the recollection of how this all started. That vulgar part of me, happy that she did what she did, because how else would things have turned out this way?

Schleck-slurp, schlack-schlup, schlip-glugp.

Each time she pushes against my throat, my cock throbs all the fiercer, and something is...something is building. It makes no sense, at first. It feels like I'm going to cum, just from having my face used. A ripple of risqué resplendence pulses out from the tightness before my tonsils, the demarcating line which separates my mouth from my throat.

Sephalla winces as she pushes beyond it, holding my head firmly, commanding me without words to swallow her stupendously fat horse cock, beginning with its mighty and magnificent flare.

'Ughn.' She groans, bestial, beautiful. 'Fuck. You were made f-or me, Jake. Guh. You're perfect.'

Schlick-glugp, schleck-glugp, schlup-glugp.

The feeling is mutual. As inch after inch of her lovely leviathan slides past my tonsils, the towering inferno seems to grow larger and larger ahead of me, rapidly becoming the entirety of my world. I sink my hands into her bloated balls for stability as a whole third of her huge horse dick disappears past my tightly sucking lips to enjoy the hollowed-out tautness of my cheeks upon its sides and the energetic twisting of my tongue against the firm cum-canal that runs underneath.

And her comment, her use of my name, dissolves the shame. It was a mistake, and a terrible one, but Sephalla isn't that person. But...I am glad that she did. Or else I might not be kneeling before her now, worshipping her like the dark goddess that she is, craving what only she can reward me with.

'Mhm-hm. Mumph.'

Schlick-glugp, schleck-glugp, schlup-glugp.

I suck with increasing urgency as she continues to guide me deeper, to disappear more and more of her monumental member inside of my gullet. It'll never reach my stomach, on account of the demonic magic. Or maybe now it will, given that I've demonic powers of my own? Something to, uh, discuss with her.

Whatever the case, my throat bulges, and my chest is full of the most wonderful warmth. A pulsating power that radiates outwards from the very core of me, resulting in the unmistakable shudder of a sudden orgasm. Mine, not hers.

'Mhugh. Mhughn.'

'Cum for me,' Seph says, continuing to push me deeper, applying her hand behind my head with no hint of reservation. 'Cum just from--aahn--sucking dick, cocksucker. This is your true nature. This is where you're meant to--mhm--be.'

It's such a vulgar thing, the way my body trembles, the way my cock spews and squirts, loading my pants. I've no ability to resist her, promptly passing the halfway line of deepthroating her gigantic member, but then again, I'd not want to stop. This is...this is one of the purest climaxes I've ever felt, a whole new thing. Like my throat is a pussy, built just for her cock, just to suck loads out of that fat demonic horse schlong.

Schlick-glugp, schleck-glugp, schlup-glugp.

In the moment, I'm in a realm of perfect submission. The way Sephalla speaks suggests the same on her behalf, that right now we've crystallised our roles into something momentary yet divine. As my drooling lips kiss the bulky band of her sheath, and the naughty nightmare holds me steadily in place, I can't even envision the world outside of our tryst.

'Good boy. Good slut.'

I continue to shiver and shake, nuts emptying themselves. A problem my brain realises is going to be annoyance, but one that it can't seem to explain to me in any sensible fashion. For again, there is no world beyond here. There is just here, just now, and everything is in its place.

Her humungous horse cock rests on my tongue, but does so uneasily. It pulsates powerfully, needily, and makes clear the fact that this little lull of effort on my part is simply a charitable gift from my goddess, my queen, my Mistress. I suck eagerly around her shaft, relishing every throb and tremor, adoringly appreciating her fat sagging balls with my hands and working gently to cultivate an extra-thick helping of my lover's essence.

'Mhm. Mhmf.'

She plays with my hair, practically hilted in my face. Teasing fingers making a mess of my scalp, tracing out indistinct patterns across the skin, leaving a flickering sensation of lightning in their wake.

'You're a lucky boy, to have so kind a Mistress as I am,' Sephalla says, a glorious giggle to her words, which come out clearer, less strained, in the wake of the illicit intermission. 'Some Mistresses might make you endure both the joys of serving them and the pressure of cumming in your cute little boxers.' She pats my head, and tickles behind an ear. 'Are you ready to go again, Jakey? To repay me for the gift I've just given?'

I nod crudely, and moan around her. 'Mhm-hm. Mhm.'

Seph replies with a smug chuckle, and calmly cradles my head with her strong hands. 'Let's give you what you're after then, slut. I'm going to fuck that face so fucking good.'

She asserts her power not violently, but firmly, making sure that I appreciate how this is going to proceed. Sephalla's huge horse cock pushes against the opening of my throat and then effortlessly slides beyond it, the first third of it disappearing again within the passing of a moment. Her fat flare is abundantly noticeable where it glides down into the depths of me, trailing tantalising heat and heaviness, throbbing away with that rigid ring seeming to be the most prominent part of the whole sensation.

Schlick-glugp, schleck-glugp, schlup-glugp.

As I pass the halfway mark, I realise that nothing is going to halt this second attempt but the creamy conclusion waiting in her big beautiful balls. Seph grows larger and larger as my perspective narrows, as the world becomes nothing but her and her demonically delicious body, my goth-punk goddess, my dark and deviant queen.

'Mhm. That's it. Fuck yeah, cumslut.'

She's not stopping, not even drawing back for a moment to add a back-forth rhythm to things. Sephalla the Magnificent is intent on one thing, and one thing only, and that's the complete engulfment of her enormous endowment within the cavity of my face, mouth, and throat.

Schlick-glugp, schleck-glugp, schlup-glugp.

My world shudders with sensuality as her heat fills me, her luxurious lance like a glowing monument of blessed bawdiness sliding inch by inch into its truest and most rightful of scabbards. To be nothing more than a cocksucker, to be nothing more than a hole, is in this moment the most marvellous thing ever offered to me. Why would I want anything else, to be anywhere else, to do anything else?

'Mumph. Mhmf.'

I groan around her pole as it ripples and writhes past my tonsils, upon my pushed-down tongue, between my forcibly sucking lips and cheeks. Straining, swollen and needy, desperate to give me what I am desperate to receive, the culmination of a long and lusty act of oral copulation between Mistress and her toy, clearly much-needed by the both of us.

Sephalla's belly muscles clench and she digs her feet into the ground, her hold on my head dancing between gentle and forceful. Ahead of me her living flame pubes await, beyond that equid sheathe, beyond the last third of vigorous violet shaft meat that throbs and bulges with all those veins, all that delectably depraved detail.

Schlick-glugp, schleck-glugp, schlup-glugp.

Little by little it becomes impossible to meet her coal-seam gaze, for her face disappears beyond the colossal dark shelf that is her breasts, those ridiculous R-cup juggernauts which are each massively larger than my head. The degree by which things grow impersonal, selfishly separated, is not lost on me nor unappreciated, for it only excites those sultry submissive parts of myself that crave to be used in so filthy a fashion.

And when the bulky band of her sheathe kisses my lips, there's a brief respite. A pause in progress, as Sephalla is all but hilted inside my face, this salacious smooch between my human mouth and her demonic horse cock culminating in a meeting of her black leathery sheathe and my face-hole.

'Ughn. That's good. Shit, you're nothing more than a dick toilet,' Seph says, fondling my hair with her thumbs, seeming to be omnipresent. On either side her legs are massive, and above me she's this unseeable shape, a belly and a fiery crotch and the last inches of a mammoth member. 'Feels like I'm--aahn--almost home. I could stay sheathed in you like this forever, slut. It's so fucking comfortable.'

But as she speaks, she pushes. My lips strain to accommodate the rigid ring, firm and forceful, but Sephalla wants my face buried in her groin, against those pretty blue lights, with her big black balls resting weightily against my chest. My stomach bulges with her cock, the world in there a contorted mess of fantastical impossibility, but the outward appearance suiting a somewhat believable expectation of what things should look like. Forty-inch phalluses being, after all, a death sentence from any source but a monster-girl.

'Ughn. F-uck.'

'Mhm! Mumph.'

I start blowing a second load, out of nowhere, as I begin tasting sheathe. Slightly sweaty, salty, distinctly different than the lustrous shaft which preceded it. Sephalla pushes me all the way up against her groin and the cute living flames dance before my eyes, hot yet not in the least harmful. A kind of analogy for herself, in that phrase, I'm sure.

And only then, having completely skewered my face, does the naughty nightmare proceed to the final step of orally owning me. She starts to stand, and yet holds onto my head, uses my impaled state as a good support for drawing me up off the floor.

'Don't worry, cocksucker. I'm just going to--mhm--use your face like it's meant to be used. A pussy, for me, and me alone.'

She must rise up to the ceiling, hunched over but nonetheless standing tall, because the motion forces me onto my feet as well. Sephalla is simply so massive that by just getting upright, half of her dick slips out of my lips, freed and glistening and utterly suggestive of just how thoroughly I'm going to get my face slammed in.