She's the Boss Ch. 07

But then given that my cock responds to her remark by throbbing and firming up, I might have a decent dose of madness in me as well.

'Are you two actually showering in there?' Maddie says, outside the door. 'Don't we need to be in the office by now?'

Irina chuckles. 'Mads, honey, Mummy is busy. Go and sit, and wait. I'll be out when I'm out.'

The sound Maddie produces is frustration of an odd sort. I can't quite place it. It's especially hard to make sense of it -- to focus on anything at all, for that matter -- because Irina pulls my head out from her armpit and stares down at me with a hunger I've not seen on her before. She looks like she might eat me.

But then the dusky Amazoness lifts her other hand from me, switching grips. 'The other, honey. And then you'll wash my breasts.' She winks, emerald excellence. 'Something to look forward to.'

How guilty I feel, that it actually is something to be excited about. That she's right. It plagues my head as I move to her other armpit, as she plies those fingers up and down the dip of my back, tracing out the curvature of my spine. The backbone, that I clearly fucking lack.

And God, my cock is so fucking hard now. It's not long before she notices, as I begin to lick "clean" her other stubbly pit.

'Oh, honey,' Irina says, slipping that hand around to my front. She gently dips her fingers down, then pulls them back, teasing at the inevitable. 'What a lovely cock you have. And it's not shy, is it? Despite being in the presence of a resplendently superior article.'

I suck in a mouthful of sweetly fragrant armpit air as she brushes the top of my annoying erection with her fingernails, their sharpness and warmth provoking a troublesome shiver through me.

'M-ummy...you shouldn't.'

'Shouldn't I? Shouldn't I take care of my lovely boy's beautiful dick?' Irina chuckles, mocking and alluring at once, as she slips her fingers around my pole. Her skin is silken, her touch hot, but it's unwanted. Unwanted, and yet awfully enjoyable. 'Submit to me, Theo. Acknowledge your place. We both know you're not there yet, but would it hurt to fall to your knees and worship me like the goddess I am?'

This time it's me who leaves her armpit, but Irina doesn't protest. Her smile is unbearable, so arrogantly attractive. The way she considers me, some pet or plaything, some lesser human, should provoke nothing but hatred.

I really am fucked up, aren't I? All of this. Any of it. I should've left at the start. Should've gone to the police and taken my chances. But fuck, there was some kernel there. Some seed planted in me. And look how it's blossomed.

Look where I am now. Stood alone in Maddie's bathroom, door locked, under the pretence of "showering" but everyone knows it's a lie. This is just another stepping stone towards whatever hell it is I'm going to, and the deeper I wander into this tunnel of temptations the harder it is to respect myself. And at the same time, the harder it is to hate where I'm headed.

'I call you Mummy,' I say. 'I play along. You get what you want.'

She slowly shakes her head, lengthy ponytail of crimson shifting. 'But I don't, honey. Remember what we said, about religion? About contracts? This will be right, will be as I need it, when there exists no notion of refusal. When you don't simply act the part, but believe. Mummy is just a word, Theo, but I want more than words. I want your heart.'

Somehow I do nothing. Somehow she reaches for my chin with her newly freed hand and scoops it up, tilts my head back, and dips herself forwards to press her lips upon mine. For a moment I resist, clam up, but then I'm...then I'm kissing her back. Tasting her sweetness, basking in the heat of her body, and the way she slowly tugs on my length.

'Mhm.'

How can I like this? How can I want it? Jesus Christ. The easy path, the path of least resistance, grows harder and harder because I have to resist, I have to maintain some part of me that's still the Theo I knew.

But he becomes fainter with each passing day. He's overshadowed, time and again, by the new Theo who is coming to love his chains.

'It's not so bad,' Irina says, sweet and whispered. She pulls away slightly, brushing her nose against mine. 'It's not, is it? It can be nice, honey. It can be lovely. But you have to submit. You have to see me as what I am. I'd hoped that claiming and breeding Maddie would do it, but it clearly hasn't.'

'Why'd you think that would work?'

She wets her lips with that perfect pink tongue, smiling happily. 'You can't submit to my affections, clearly. My looks don't do it. You've tasted my semen, serviced my penis, been mounted time after time. The trend is clear, through it all, that whatever your protests, you crave a stern hand. An iron fist, in a velvet glove. What better way to assert my superiority in your eyes than to take the girl's womb for myself, honey?'

I can kind of see the twisted logic. It certainly builds off of the fact that, as rotten as it is, something about it turns me on. The broken thing is that as many times as I've wanked off to things with breeding themes, the protagonist was always me. Not some third-party.

The facts are the facts, all the same.

'Superiority doesn't work like that. People are equal.'

'Are they?' Irina chuckles. Mocking generally, not me specifically. The very idea of equality seems alien, in her enchanting eyes. 'You're a man, Theo. A male. You have a penis, and testicles. You produce sperm.' She continues to softly tug, and slides her other hand up from my jaw to my left cheek, fingers tracing dancing circles. 'I'm a futanari, honey. I have a bigger penis, and bigger testicles. I produce more sperm, and better sperm. In no sane natural order would you ever win in raw sexuality, and we both know that I come out on top everywhere else.'

There's something primal, and awful, in that notion. Something difficult to shake off. To boil us down, two people, into our genitals and our capacity to produce semen. But then she adds that extra qualifier, and I can't help but think that she's right about the rest. It's hard to imagine that I'm smarter than she is, and I'm certainly not richer. I stare up at her, try to conjure up some realm in which I would always win, but...nothing.

Maddie's affection? But Mads went behind my back. Gave Irina the advantage. Chose a world with the futanari in it, regardless of my preferences.

'I...there must be...'

Something pokes up against me. Something hot, and huge. I glance down and see it, for the hundredth time. Irina Blackwell's big dusky dick, wrist-thick and capped in an enormous helmet, hooded by foreskin. Something at least double the size of my perfectly-average prick.

And as it bumps against my belly, Irina says, 'Someone's woken up. You see what you do to me? See how my body responds to your presence?'

'You must be wrong,' I say, managing to pull my gaze away from her growing erection and meet her gaze. To stare at her face. To stare into such enrapturing beauty. 'I'll find something. You're not just better than me.'

'I thought everyone was equal, honey? Did that change so quickly?'

'I just mean that...that you're...'

'That I'm what, honey? Right?' Irina flashes me a dark smile, and slips her hand from my cheek to my shoulder. The other leaves behind my cock, tracing up my belly. 'You've chosen this, and you're playing along. But it's hard to disagree, isn't it? Even Mads, trustworthy lovely pretty Mads, who schemed against me with you, wanted this.' She chuckles sweetly. A sound at odds with its intent, but this woman is so viciously mad that to her this is good. This is right. 'Keep washing me, Theo. Know your place. Know how lucky you are.'

It's like seeing myself from outside myself. Irina doesn't need to push or urge, because I just go with it. Go with the way she pulls me into that voluptuous valley of her chest, into the warmth of her body while her huge-helmeted cock pokes against my own.

I can't think. Can't think of a single "gotcha" to end the thought spiral. There must be something that I do better, but what? Shit, I'm not her! But...that hardly seems convincing.

Because all the other areas where Irina comes out on top are passingly quantifiable. Things that other people might actually judge.

'Good boy,' Irina says, massaging my shoulders. 'Make sure to get the undersides. They get a little sweaty, being so big and all.'

I'm tasting her sweat, and I can't hate it. Can't help but adore the way her tits swallow my face, engulf me with their excellence. The biggest and fattest and most beautiful pair of breasts in all the world, at least as I've seen. Attached to Irina, who just has to have it all. Has to be so perfect, except for that rotten core of her mind. Her total absence of a soul.

But fuck me, the affection feels weirdly genuine.

Irina continues to ply the flesh of my shoulders as I find myself fighting the powerful urge to motorboat her massive melons, to take actual vulgar interest in doing this thing that I need to hate and need to loathe and need to not want but...it's difficult. Hard. Harder than my cock is right now.

'There, honey. Clean my--mhm--naughty fat tits with that lovely servile tongue.'

I shiver as she speaks, shudder as I run my tastebuds down beneath her bulky breasts, one after the other, finding myself engulfed by their excessive enormity. The sheer fatness of each bulky breast, as they naturally sag down and their weight presses my tongue between titty and her torso, is an awfully awesome thing.

Her body is just...it's just...

'Here,' she says, gripping the back of my head. 'Nurse on Mummy.'

And I let her do it. Let her just guide my mouth up to the middle of her right boob, where my lips meet that bumpy wide halo and then that protruding nipple, rigidly aroused. Instinct takes over, stabs sense in the side, leaves reason writhing as my disturbing desire for the dusky-skinned dickgirl Amazonian asserts itself over my deeds.

Mlep. Slurp.

Irina giggles, more girlish than adult. 'Ooh. I do so love that. Suckle, honey. No milk's going to come out, but we can pretend, can't we? God, we can enjoy pretending.'

I sink one of my hands into each breast, steadying myself by fondling and groping the yielding perfection of her 44K chest. Irina doesn't mind, doesn't stop me. I'm so little a threat now, clearly. And the less threatening I am, the more she'll loosen up, the more things will get to a place that's more mutual, despite being the farthest thing from it.

Because I'm not her partner, but a pet. A plaything. A toy.

'Good boy,' she says, stroking my hair, patting my head. 'Mummy's good boy. Mummy's best boy.'

My eyelids flutter as I suck with such passionate intensity, flicking my tongue about her nipple, tasting the saltiness of her skin, relishing the bumpiness of her areola. Pressing against her breasts my face sinks in, swallowed up by the softness, the beautiful bounciness of what must be up there as some of the finest breasts in all the world.

And they're Irina's, and that's terrible. But they're Irina's...and something about that is, at the same time, perversely sexy.

Schlep. Mlup.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

'That mouth just doesn't quit, does it?' She chuckles. 'The other now, Theo. Clean them both. Be a good boy.'

There's this awkward moment where I pause, a string of saliva connecting my mouth to her breast. I see Irina, and Irina sees me. And she's never looked more in control, proud, dominant. As if I'm a dog and she's thrown me a bone, knowing that I'm so weak, so malleable.

"I could make you suck my cock or I could fuck you, but I can just as well make you wash your body with my tongue. Because you will, won't you? And you'll enjoy it. You enjoy all of it. You enjoy everything."

It's what her eyes say. What that look says. And it's right, I suppose, because I just dip my head down upon her other breast, sucking away, lapping and licking like a starved fool drinking from the most wonderful source of sustenance in all the world.

'See what obedience gets you?' Irina says, all soft and whispery. 'You get to worship me, honey. You get to affirm as your goddess. With every subtle suck and lick, you're telling me your truth, honey. You're telling me how you really see me.'

I wince and shut my eyes and wish she was entirely wrong, wish I could just shout her down, but...this does feel so natural, doesn't it? I touch her flesh and I'm in awe, excited, desperately aroused. I ply her wonderful body and I want more of it, want to explore it, want to...to worship it.

Again that thought, that realisation that if only Irina weren't who she is, she'd be perfect. I'd accept her exactly as she is physically, cock and balls included. I'd even be happy to submit in an affectionate manner, a playful but otherwise equal approach.

But what does it say about me that I don't seem to care who she is? That I do this thing and love it, fucking crave it, while knowing full-well her nature?

I'm not in the dark here. I can't be excused. It's as simple as this: I find her disgusting as a human being, and yet nobody else in the world arouses me half so much.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

Schlup. Schlap.

'That's it, baby. Mhm. Nurse on me. Nurse on Mummy.'

I fondle the other breast with my left hand, grope one of her hips with my right. Suckle and slurp on her fat fucking tits, wholly absorbed in this act that -- cleaning it is certainly not -- tells her all that she needs to know. Tells me plenty, and yet I resist the truth it contains.

I simply don't hate her enough.

Another bang on the door. 'I'm sorry to interrupt, Mummy,' Mads says, a little nervous, plenty flustered. 'But it's really getting on. Are you two almost done?'

'Maddie, honey, we both know it's not about getting into work,' Irina says. As she speaks, she slips her hands onto my shoulders again, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. 'Theo needs time with Mummy as well, okay? So wait patiently, or you'll be on the naughty step. No cock for a week.'

The little whimper from the other side of the door is a chillingly carnal thing. It makes me shiver, fills my head with the lurid reminder of how Maddie is utterly smitten with our boss, at least in terms of lust. No wonder she lied, and chose a dangerous day. No wonder she went behind my back, hoping to make it one big family instead of us, doing our own thing.

Even on our horniest days together, she's never made a sound quite so telling.

'Down,' Irina says, as Maddie's footfalls fade away. 'Down, honey. On your knees.'

A lump of nerves bundles up in my throat as she applies dedicated force, not harsh or sudden, but firm and irresistible. Irina pushes me and I can do nothing but accept this fate, slipping onto the floor, knees upon the hard tiles. Her erection, that enormous length of beautiful bronze flesh, so intimidating and powerful, brushes against my bare chest. The muskiness of her crotch is particularly nose-tickling, not at all unpleasant but definitely unwashed from last night, rich with pseudo-masculine virility, stale semen, and the sweetly tangy fragrance of mingling sexes. Her oil-black pubes, glistening away like a forest at the base of her dick, fading as dusky flesh dips into that dangling overstuffed sack, are temptingly familiar.

I almost speak, expectant of her penis, for this to become a blowjob, but my boss promptly turns about and presents her exceedingly plump buttocks to me. Each cheek is easily larger than my head, and I'm gruesomely aware of what she's after. Particularly when she uses her hands to part their fatty heft and reveal a gorgeously smooth sphincter, puckered and lustrous, a shade of chocolate brown.

'Eat up, honey. Clean Mummy's arse with that dutiful tongue.'

The command is heard, but...adhering is another matter. It's not that it's necessarily unclean, but the perception is there. Her smells if anything are pleasant, even in their more pungent aspects. Sensuality oozing from every contour of her form.

'Mummy...do I really have to?'

Irina nods, chuckling. Her lovely length of crimson hair, that veritable mane of red, rises and falls up the ditch of her beautiful back. Even from behind, her body is exquisite. The obviousness of her hips, the heavy hourglass of her figure.

'You do, honey. You're a good boy, aren't you? You want to do right by me, don't you?'

No, but yes. I don't, but do. Even her exposed anus, gorgeous as the rest of her, is tantalising. And I'm so far gone, so deep into this whole process. Does it matter?

'I am,' I say, reaching for the backs of her thighs. 'I'm...I'm a good boy, Mummy.'

The muskiness of her body makes me salivate as I grow so close that its richness overwhelms my nostrils. Her fertility, her virility. That pheromonal power, not arcane or supernatural but the simple bodily awareness of mating and rutting and breeding and all that biological perverseness. That reminder that I'm just an animal, and she's just an animal, and sex is in our fucking DNA.

Sex of any kind, given our imaginativeness as a species.

And beyond the faint bitterness, mingling with the general saltiness of her skin, I like it. More than like it. The heat and the lustrousness of her sphincter, the faint wrinkles of it against my tongue, are incredibly pleasant. Irina steadily softens the way in which she holds apart her cheeks, letting them sandwich my face in her crack. Maybe once I'd have been startled by the sense of humid engulfment, but not now. Not this latest iteration in a line of vile submissive cretins that all share the name "Theo".

Slup. Mlep.

I lick, and she trembles. 'Ooh. Honey. Dirty boy.' I lick, and she quivers. 'Ughn. I wondered how far you'd--mhm--go. Take things.' I lick, and she shudders. 'I've done you such a favour, haven't I? Letting you--aahn--relish in your squalor. In how pathetic you are.'

'Mhm. Mumph.'

And as my hands sink into the fat of her thighs, and as my tongue begins widening the opening between her plump butt cheeks, I have no answer. Not in me or out of me. Even this is good, is nice. Even this.

Schlep. Schluck.

'That's it, honey. Find my--ugh--prostate. Do it. Get right in there, you slutty little loser.'

Her words only spur me to act, to push on. Her arsehole widens and accepts my intrepid tongue, squeezing down on my length of luridness while I sloppily dig deeper and deeper into that dirtiest of depths. The saltiness of her skin gives way to a general low bitterness, not unpleasant, but faintly filthy. She's clean, but it's still a bum. Still a particularly vulgar place.

'Mhm-hm.'

As I stroke her thighs and squeeze them, as her humid cheeks clench and unclench against my face, I'm surprised at how naturally this comes to me. How instinctual it is, this process of touching on a silken spot and noting her response, and then applying extra care to that region. How for as badly as I dislike her, Irina...Irina does provoke servility in me.

Oh, I can imagine myself dominating her, pinning her down and screwing her, but I can't really picture it. Like a depressive, that version of the world is simply not realistic enough to pursue.

But my brain readily conjures any number of outcomes where I submit. Where I tend to her needs, and do so with eagerness. Eagerness I should despise, but eagerness all the same.

Slurp. Mlep.

'Ooh. Honey, you're so good at that.' She clenches, squeezing against my face. It feels incredible, to have such fat muscular cheeks practically swallowing half of my head. 'You're in your element back there, aren't you? You love my body ever so much.'

I do. God, I do. The best female form in all the world. Deliciously dusky skin and mountainous mammaries and heavenly hips and an awesome arse. And a huge cock, yes. And huge balls, yes.