She's the Boss Ch. 06

The dread is palpable, a thing I can't seem to push away.

I chose this, didn't I? I made a decision, and now I have to face the consequences. How could I be so fucking stupid as to think that Irina Blackwell, of all people, wouldn't have some grand design in mind when she gave the choice to Maddie and I?

'There's nothing to worry over, honey,' Irina says, patting my shoulder. 'In the worst-case scenario, you're just going to have to learn to enjoy my company. Would that really be so wrong?'

It might as well go in one ear and out the other, so difficult it is to process that notion. To consider this situation as anything other than an entirely hopeless failure of reasoning is to force myself to find the positives in a future whereby I, and Maddie, will inevitably succumb to Irina. Either that, or we hate our lives so badly that we throw them away. No more seventy-kay salary and likely the worst reference imaginable.

For all of Irina's beauty, she's terrible. And yet, undeniably, I know I can enjoy my time with her. It's an awful realisation, but it's an honest one. I can enjoy time with Irina because I have some perverse appreciation for her body, for the gorgeous glamour of this veritably Amazonian futanari.

God, I can't believe how much sperm is in my stomach right now. And how much I enjoyed every filthy fucking mouthful.

All of that and for what? For Irina to just waltz on over to Maddie's place and impregnate her? Please don't make me watch, please don't make me watch, please don't make me watch...

Every twist and turn on the road, the most comfortable possible journey imaginable in the chauffeured Rolls Royce, is a thing of unwelcome agony. With every passing landmark, I'm aware that we're that much closer to the end of things. Freedom, sacrificed. Victory, pushed out of view. Oh, I might end up in the lap of luxury, but I'll end up on her lap, as well.

A fuck toy for a futanari fiend.

'Please don't fret, honey.' Irina strokes my cheek, her fingers soft and delicate and yet might as well be wrapped in barbed wire. 'You tried your hardest, but we're just built differently. You've got a lovely cock, Theo, and such tasty little balls, but you have to be honest. You have to admit that you knew, before this started, where it would end.'

I tremble beneath her touch, gentle and warm though it may be. Words are beyond me for the moment, lost in the same way my gaze is, caught on the horizon and its unknowable contents. What if she's right, and I did on some perverse level want this outcome? It's difficult to ignore the possibility. Difficult to pretend that in some fashion, no matter what, I've got myself into a situation whereby I can spend time with Irina without for a moment blaming myself for enjoying her body.

Given that, going forwards, I'm going to be at its mercy.

'I didn't. I'd never want this.'

When she leans in, hot breath tickling my skin, humidity uncomfortably pleasant, a distressing lump of anxiousness solidifies like a purulent pearl in my throat. Her mouth is sweet. Her presence, in some awful sense, the farthest thing from unappealing.

'I'm going to knock her up, Theo. She's going to carry my child. Do you reckon you'll love the taste of my semen all the more, when you can connect those dots in your head?' Irina kisses my cheek, beginning with a peck and moving to something passionate, ending in a lick of my skin. I tremble throughout, stare right ahead, doing my utmost to stay what amounts to braindead, thoughtless. 'This whole thing suits me perfectly, honey. Why should I use my womb to create a legacy for myself, when I can use someone else's? And all the better if it puts you in your place.'

'Please stop talking.'

She rubs my arm. 'Oh, honey. Don't shoot the messenger.'

'How can you do this? How can you be so smug about it?'

Irina chuckles. 'Theo, honey, you can't even look at me. Why is that?'

God, she's right. About this, about so many things. It's vulgar to the extreme, but I can't look at her. Not with a straight face. Not if I want to rebel, and resist, and refuse. One look at Irina, and I'm struck by her beauty. Struck by this powerful inability to truly despise her. Because as evil as she is, as fucked-up as I clearly am, I associate her with so much pleasure. So much wonderful lustiness.

'Because I want to fuck you,' I say, letting it just slip. No looking, of course. The words do enough. 'I want to kiss you, and suck on your tits, and fuck them, and fuck you, in every hole. And be...be fucked by you, as well.'

It's not that my resistance is fading, as such. I'd be lying, to say that my words are untrue. To pretend that when I behold this bronze-fleshed Amazonian, beautiful as she is terrible, I don't have a powerful urge to do things to her. With her. But I'm exhausted. Completely exhausted today, and the filter is not where it should be.

'Look at me, honey. Please.'

'No.'

But Irina takes my jaw with the gentlest of grips, and for whatever reason, beneath her silken touch, I turn. Behold that dark beauty, so well made-up, eyes emerald explosions rimmed in Egyptian-styled mascara. And when she brings her lips against mine, I do nothing. Can do nothing. Perhaps, in some gruesome way, want to do nothing.

'Mhm.'

Smooch. Smack.

Because Irina's lips are wonderful, and her breath is sweet, and her spit is delicious. She effortlessly takes control, sticking her tongue inside my mouth, snogging me with fiery passion. Doing this awful thing and I should stop her and fight back, but I don't. I just don't.

And when Irina withdraws, a strand of glistening saliva links our lips. 'We're going to be a family, okay? I'm going to put a baby -- or two! -- in Mads. Everybody wins, Theo.'

She moves back into the kiss, but the chauffeur halts the car before our lips touch anew. I'm halfway going for it, all the worse. Irina winks at me, pecks my cheek, and gestures to the door. 'Come on, honey. Let's set that ball rolling.'

I don't know why I go with her. I don't know much, anymore. God, I wanted to kiss her, didn't I? Wanted more than that. Just like I didn't want the blowjobs to stop earlier. I'm captivated, in the worst of ways, by Irina Blackwell. A victim of her, yes, but now becoming some supplicant. Some obedient pet for her to command and direct.

Maddie's not my girlfriend, as such. She's a lot more than a friend, and I care dearly for her, light in this omnipresent darkness as she is, but...this is at once divine and disgusting. It should be the latter, only the latter, but it was obvious that something inside me is twisted that day Irina called while I was watching the footage.

The mental image of Irina Blackwell's powerful strong-swimming sperm claiming Maddie's eggs provokes a disturbing response in my loins. My cock aches, twitches, thickens to its full glory in a heartbeat. Irina obviously notices as we wait outside of Maddie's flat, because she reaches down and gropes me.

'You know this is right, honey. I take, Theo. I take what I want, and you? You're taken. It's just how things are. What I'm doing here? I'm doing it for us. Doing it for you.'

'How can you...how can you be so--ugh--deluded?'

I groan, because her hand knows just how to please. For someone so set on being worshipped, she can return the favour effortlessly. Her fingers grip and stroke, tugging at my captive length, urging me into the realms of pleasure while my thoughts are gridlocked by pain.

'Deluded? Me?' Irina chuckles. 'Honey, I'm setting you free. Look at this' -- she says, patting my cock -- 'and look at me. You're handsome, but you're hardly some stud. Mads is going to give her womb to me now, and you're going to stay childless. Unless you think you can convince someone to join in our little mess, and somehow have them choose your seed over mine.'

You're going to stay childless. That assertion makes my head spin, causes the world to seem unreasonably evil. Irina being the least of it, given that the universe surely didn't need her to exist. A mosquito, a tick, something unwanted. Mads is going to give her womb to me, now.

I choke back a word, some protest, when Maddie opens the door. Beautiful as ever, her cheeks are flush, perhaps more so than mine. Red as sin, at odds with her pretty blue eyes. Pale perfection, bouncy blonde curls. Her lingerie leaves little hidden, pert D-cup breasts exposed by the thin veneer of semi-opaque fabric. Between her thighs is already a slickness, wet in anticipation of what's to happen. Without words, her expression says plenty.

But mostly, it apologises. Apologises for her own excitement.

'I didn't expect you to be here, Theo?'

'Oh, he's vital,' Irina says, smiling serenely. She moves, leading me by my cock. 'Let's go to your lounge, Mads. To begin, at least.'

'The lounge?' Maddie says as we go past her. She shuts the door, locks it. 'But Irina--'

As we walk into the living room of the small flat, with its TV on one side and a big sofa facing it, Irina says, 'I'd quite like a blowjob, first. I've had several today -- back-to-back -- but a warm-up load wouldn't go amiss.'

That purulent pearl in my throat returns, or perhaps it had never truly left. Irina sits herself down, bringing me along with her. Maddie hovers beside me, at the arm of the sofa, going so far as to put a futilely reassuring hand on my shoulder. To soothe me, as if something so wonderful would be possible.

It's too far gone. This is too far gone. The both of us are deer caught in headlights, watching as Irina Blackwell pulls up her skirt and frees her half-erect length. A big bronze beast, beautiful yet dangerous, so familiar to me now. No less vigorous than ever, as if all my efforts today were for nought.

'But Irina...'

'The way this is looking,' our boss says, 'suggests that I'm going to be receiving double blowjobs on the regular. There's no need to be shy, Mads. Just do what you've done so very many times before, and do it with that same degree of slutty aplomb that I find so enchanting.'

Irina smiles at me, sickly-sweet. A gruesome look, in all truth, because it represents something profoundly unpleasant. Her dominance, her victory, her ability to get what she wants. To take what she wants, as she suggested she does.

And Maddie, sweet as I know she can be, hesitates. Her hand stays put, locked against me, the urge to reassure momentarily -- I know, in my heart of hearts, that it's only a flash in the pan of a thing -- that she's with me. That she'll protect me. That she'll be kind and not cruel.

But all that does is make her absence colder when she moves. When she leaves me behind and walks around to the front, to drop onto her knees before Irina Blackwell. Before the cock that, in no time at all, is likely to plant a child inside of her uterus. To claim her body in the most profoundly perverse of fashions.

'Good girl,' Irina says, brushing a finger through those curls of gold. 'Mummy's good girl, aren't you?'

Maddie's cheeks might as well be tomatoes. 'You said you'd never--'

'It's what Theo calls me as well, baby girl. He won't judge you for it. Neither should judge the other, cum-hungry little cretins as you both are.' Irina chuckles sweetly. 'You're both safe here, with me. Where you belong. A pair of submissive dutiful sluts.'

Mads gives me a look, but for what purpose? Seeking permission? Wanting approval? Simply desiring to know the truth? Whatever my nod represents, weak and sheepish as it is, it passingly resolves her concerns. The pretty blonde delicately takes up Irina's length with her small shapely hands, the contrast in colour and vulgarity obvious.

'Look at me, Maddie,' Irina says, and those blue eyes swivel up to meet her greens. 'Good girl. You've done this countless times, and today's no different. Suck out my sperm, honey. Give your body a taste of what's soon to claim it.'

It's hard to notice any particular change on Maddie's face, because her blush is so overbearing. She keeps a straight expression, despite the redness. Her hands, if anything, tell the truth. The way they grip our boss's big cock, the way they seem to know it without her eyes following their movements, admit what Mads is so frightened of hinting at.

That while she may prefer me, as a matter of heart and soul, her body prefers Irina. The animal part chooses the superior specimen, and the futanari is better than me in all the ways that matter right now.

Fap, fap, fap, schl-fap.

Irina's loose foreskin shifts meatily beneath Maddie's ministrations, those hands working hard to pleasure her. There's a faint note of wetness to the noise, a result of the glistening precum that's already leaking out of our boss's cock. Rapidly the sensual shape grows to its full size and all I can do is watch, powerless, knowing that this has to happen. Knowing that this is in some filthy sense my fate.

I shiver as Irina reaches for my lap, more so to realise that I'm stupidly hard, my perfectly decent cock simply seeming so small in comparison to the Amazonian futanari's.

'It's natural that Mads wants me, Theo,' Irina says, effortlessly using one hand to take my erection out. 'Oh, she's sweet on you, certainly adores you, but--mhm--it's clear what she needs. What you can't provide her.'

Maddie's eyes grow wet as she continues to tug and milk, urging back the foreskin of the big bronze beast. As the dark purple crown comes into view her whole body trembles, and her pretty blue eyes become thoroughly transfixed by the overpowering urge to gaze upon the exposed helmet.

My boss smiles at me, one hand on my cock and the other atop Maddie's head in a proprietary fashion. Irina Blackwell is somehow at her most beautiful when she's at her most vulgar, those gemstone eyes sparkling and her mouth a thing of grave gorgeousness.

'Theo, what she says isn't--'

But Mads is cut off, that hand so delicately placed suddenly acting with driving determination. Midsentence Irina's cock pushes into the pretty blonde's mouth, both silencing her and provoking another low tremble through her lovely shape.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

Schlup. Schlurp.

And immediately, as if on instinct, Maddie begins to suckle. It begins with just her cheeks, pulling taut around that fat bell-end, but then she's bobbing her head and looking ever so guilty and yet ever so pleased to be tasting that thing I know to be pleasant, to be sucking on that thing I know is so unfathomably enjoyable to suck upon.

'Ugh. She's a good girl, isn't she?' Irina smirks at me, using that hand to tug on me, playfully and mockingly. 'She's of that age, honey. Ripe for breeding.' Our boss looks at Mads, who quivers, sucking away with shameful enthusiasm. 'Isn't that right, honey? Today's a special day, isn't it? The day you become--mhm--a mother.'

Schlup. Schlack. Slurp.

'Mumph. Mhm.'

Mads is really sucking Irina's cock, right in front of me. The sexual stench of dicks rises up, mine and my boss's both, hers the more potent flavour. And it should be so wrong, to the point of vomit and disgust and anger, but I can't stop staring. Can't take my eyes off of the terrible vista forced upon me.

My knees quiver, because there's the makings of an orgasm approaching, despite the wrongness of it all. Irina's touch is sublime, the scene before me awful and yet deeply alluring, the sounds and smells and sights of it at once disgusting and delicious.

She might suck my cock with more affection, but she sucks Irina's with more enthusiasm.

Schlap. Schlurp.

It's in the eagerness. The way she moves her mouth and hands with synchronicity, instincts instilling her with a sense of urgency to pleasure this erect penis, to tend to it, to make it spill its virile volume of creamy semen.

'Mhm.'

And when Mads moans, eyelids fluttering, I'm struck by the strangest kind of jealousy. That same manner as hit me before, when I was watching the recording. This perverse lust to both be Irina and to be Maddie, to suck and be sucked. My infatuation with both of these women, light and darkness at opposite ends of the spectrum, creates the strangest of interests.

'I'm doing this--ugh--for you, Theo. Teaching you a thing or two about--mhm--what's to come. What the future holds. Though I do hope that going forwards, both of you will be down there, nursing on your Mummy.'

Maddie's hands create such motion as they work, making my own pleasure wholly forgettable. Irina's big bronze balls, bloated despite having been milked of countless billions of her strong-swimming futanari sperm, swing pendulously as the cock they sit beneath is stroked eagerly by pretty young fingers. Her loins pulsate and shudder, brewing up yet another batch of baby batter, doubtless every bit as thick as the last.

Perhaps more so now, given that her body must be passingly aware that it's here to breed, to lay claim to a fertile womb. It recalls something I learned in biology once upon a time, about semen containing more sperm during actual intercourse.

It provokes a shiver, gruesome as the notion is, but not the bad kind. The kind that, filthy as I am, makes my cock ache all the more beneath her generous grip.

'Guh. Fuck.' I gasp, groan. I shouldn't be enjoying this, shouldn't be so turned on, and yet I can't stop staring. Can't stop marvelling at the sight of Maddie's enjoyment. 'Irina...'

'What, honey? What do you want Mummy to do?'

'J-ust get on with it. Get this over with. Ughn.'

She chuckles, goes so far as to lean in and kiss my cheek. 'Why would I rush something so beautiful, honey? Don't you want to compare loads? Don't you want to see the difference between--mhm--you and me?'

I don't, but I do. I am twisted, bent out of shape, vulnerable here. Exposed both in terms of heart, for wanting Maddie and hating Irina, but also in matters of lust and depravity, for finding both beautiful and enticing and on some bedrock-level of rottenness enjoying the show.

Schlup. Slurp.

The sounds of Mads, sucking away on Irina's big bad dick, are the most sordid of sonority. A dire orchestra, and yet the beauty is still there. There is gold beneath the filth. More so, to see her lips pretty and pink and slick with spit and precum. More so, to watch as her cheeks suck in around the huge helmet that is so fat and fearsome. More so, to see her head bob and know that she's tasting our boss, tasting precum, working for semen, and soon to taste sperm.

To taste the genes that might well mingle with her own, and create a new life.

'Ughn. F-uck.'

What depths I've sunk to, that this thought causes me to burst. To ejaculate all over Irina's slowly working hand, white against her duskiness, a perfectly potent load of sticky ropes and creamy strings, but something I know will be a shadow compared to what is going to end up in Maddie's mouth.

'Good boy,' Irina says, chuckling softly. 'Mummy's good, good boy. Let it all out. Mhm.'

Schl-fap. Schlurp. Schl-fap. Schlap.

All I can do is stare, trembling as my cum spurts and dribbles forth, some small volcano compared to the Vesuvius of Irina Blackwell's loins. Maddie glances at me in passing, eyes more aroused than apologetic. This whole thing is vulgar, for both of us. For all parties.

Three perverts, of different sorts.

'It'll be a little while yet, honey.' My boss kisses my cheek, keeps hold of my shivering shaft, paying no heed to the mess on her hand. 'Some of us have a little thing called stamina.'

Schlap. Schlack.

The wet noises of Maddie's efforts, her lovely lips working their tight grip to milk out a prodigious payload, are that much fouler as clarity sets into my post-climax mind. What was hot, but wrong, is now just wrong. Just evil, twisted, monstrous.

For a little while, at least. For a little while, until the ruinous parts of my psyche poke and prod and say: "Isn't this right, Theo? You can't compete, and isn't it hot? Isn't there something sexy in capitulating, in being lesser, in being humiliated?"