She's the Boss Ch. 05

I shouldn't be doing this. Shouldn't be doing this thing. As bad as it is, I like it. Bad as it is, wrong as it is, her cock feels so good against my lips. And if this is the last day...so be it. I've nothing to lose. I swallowed my pride a long time ago, and I've got to swallow hers or else risk Mads becoming some broodmare for her evil lineage.

Schlap. Schlurp.

'God, I hope I win,' she says, patting my head. 'You're a wonderful cocksucker, Theo. Better than Maddie by far.'

I shiver as she says it, half-ignoring her, slipping her glans between my lips and sucking eagerly on it. This is just mechanical, just a process. Nothing to do with her. I'm bisexual, or at least have a thing for girl-dick, and who can blame me? But it's nothing to do with Irina. I'm just making the most of it. Just...just doing my best not to hate what I'm forced into.

'You could--mhm--taste it, couldn't you? The quality of my seed.' She smiles salaciously, a succubus of dark designs. Irina cocks her head to the side, emerald eyes engulfing me. 'I just love the thought of my sperm swimming across your tastebuds, honey. All the more that you appreciate my taste. Ugh, you're so clearly meant for me.'

She rests her hand in a proprietary fashion atop my scalp, guiding me gently as I bob my head along the first few inches of her cock, working for that second climax. Working to drain her balls, that's all. Working to lower the odds, to give Mads and I an even grander chance of coming out on top.

Schlup. Schlip.

'Ughn. Good boy. Mummy's good boy.'

I know this helmet so well, it's almost chilling. My mouth recognises its shape perfectly, such that I can move my tongue on autopilot, always striking just the right spots to send her closer and closer to that creamiest of conclusions. I should dread the thought, but I don't. More and more it's clear that I hate nothing about this, only her. If she were anyone but Irina, I'd suck her off every single day and swallow every last mouthful of her dirtily delicious dick-milk.

And in time, she cums again. Fat ropes sloshing forth, the grand total of gooey jism no smaller than the last eruption. Ever so much spooge, spraying and shooting, dense and stringy, salty and tangy, ever so richly flavoured. This is semen, sperm. This is Irina Blackwell, swimming about my mouth.

God, the thought is perverse. It makes me tremble, elicits a deep discomfort in my cock and balls. I meet her gaze, as if to rebel against my inner demons, but find myself petrified by the terrible beauty of that stare.

So proud, so smug. 'It's okay if you like how I taste,' Irina says, smirking, voluptuous lips hinting at perfect white teeth. 'It's only me, Theo. Everything. My looks, my smells, my legs and my breasts. And my mind, my schemes, my victory.' She exhales, a particularly heavy burst slathering my cum-covered tongue. 'Mhm. I wish you'd chosen this back in the office, but--ugh--your eyes tell the truth. How much you appreciate what my body can produce.'

Gulp, gulp, gulp. I swallow, ignore her, sending billions of salty swimmers hurtling down into my stomach, the threat of them vanquished. How many more loads? How many more sperms? Gulp, gulp, gulp.

It just goes on. She stays hard, and I keep sucking. Another ejaculation, another series of swallowing, and I keep sucking. She stays hard. Over, and over. Like time's stuck, keeps repeating, flicking back to the beginning of things.

I find myself playing with her big balls and running my fingers through her black pubes, appreciating their silky ticklishness. And little by little, it becomes twisted. With time so vague, and no clock in sight, my lust overcoming reason, what should be mechanical and to the point -- drain her fucking balls! -- becomes slutty, serene.

Sucking on her testicles. Kissing her furry base, rubbing my nose into the musky coils. Taking my time, smooching her helmet and licking her cock like a big dangerous lollipop. I'm dimly aware of some fiendish part of me, growing encouraged by the filthiness of today's deeds, that whispers ruinous words.

It might not be so bad, if you lose. You'd have an out! You could suck this cock every day, without guilt! No shame, because you lost. Fair and square!

And imagine how good her loads will taste, knowing that they put a bun in Maddie's oven?

'I bloody knew it,' Irina says, convulsing, the fourth, or eighth, or twelfth fat ejaculation on the cusp of racing up that ridiculous weapon. 'Such passion, Theo. You want my--ughn--sperm so badly.' She licks her lips, grunts, as her cum-vein bulges against my hand. 'There's nothing wrong, honey. I'm deserving of this. I'm your fucking goddess. Mhm. You should be fucking honoured to taste my genes.'

Her dense glans trembles on my flattened tongue, and then erupts. 'Mhm.'

I moan around her cock, receiving something I can only consider delicious. It is, isn't it? It's strange, distinctly carnal, but creamy and salty and tangy and rich. And surely the first load, or the second, because it's ever so big. Ever so viscous and monumental in quantity.

God, I've still got a day of this. I'm wary of smiling but what a send-off. Sticky salty spooge, from a fat futanari dick and balls. Strong healthy virile seed, treating my mouth like a pussy, my tongue like a red carpet.

But this time, Irina stops me from continuing. 'Half four, honey,' she says, and I shudder. No. It can't be. 'We'd best pay Mads a visit.' She winks, and leaves me kneeling, thoughts scattered madly.

It can't be. Her loads are still so big.

'Irina?'

'Up, Theo. It's time to put a baby in that pretty blonde's belly.'

'But your loads...'

Her smile is morbid, rawest darkest. Irina pats my head as though I'm a pet, an idiot, a simpleton. 'Honey, you've done a fine job clearing out the dregs. But I'm a futanari, Theo. Mads's womb is going to belong to me, okay? But don't worry, you dirty boy. Today's just a taster of things to come. We're going to be a family, honey.'

'I...'

'A deal's a deal, Theo. Or are you going to lose everything you've worked so hard for?'

It's only late afternoon, but it feels like the depths of the coldest night of my life.