She's the Boss Ch. 08

The atmosphere is awkward in the office. Maddie, having been left out of the strange situation in the shower, the shower-that-wasn't, gets on with her work in silence. Not angry at me, as such -- after what she's done, I doubt she feels she has the right to be -- but distant, all the same.

Things are real, now. Real, and accelerating. There's a faint discomfort, a result of not actually having washed. At least I don't particularly smell, so far as I can tell, but I can't get the opulent odours of Irina out of my head. Her muskiness, her tantalising fragrances, create lurid lascivious thought loops, things I shouldn't be considering for even a passing moment.

But I'm too far gone, aren't I? To step back from this now seems a thorough impossibility. Had things gone on for a few moments more, I'd have had Irina's cock inside my mouth again. She didn't even have to tell me what to do, but I'd have done it. Shit, even the thought of it makes me lick my lips and salivate at the possibility of such perversion.

And somehow, I can't be angry at Mads. She went behind my back, made a decision without consulting me, and yet...again, too far gone. Maddie made up her mind, and chose to carry Irina's child. Children. I don't know just yet. We'd agreed on our scheme, had everything in motion, and then this. A rejection that all reason and logic say should hurt like hell, but it doesn't.

It doesn't, because when I was on my knees, with my boss's big dark dick ahead of me, stinking richly of muskiness and stale spooge, I found some awful appreciation for Irina Blackwell that has always been there in the background, scratching at my sanity with its titillating talons.

'I'm sorry for what I did,' Mads says, speaking first. 'I don't have any excuse that isn't slutty, and maybe even a little bit disgusting, but I'm sorry all the same.'

Still, she doesn't turn to me. The pretty blonde pauses her work, wrings her hands anxiously, yet stares at the screen of her laptop without bothering to turn my way. Perhaps without the capacity to do so.

'Was it really a dangerous day?'

She nods without a moment's pause. 'The most fertile in my cycle. I suppose we'll know soon enough, right?'

'Fuck.'

At my quick utterance, Maddie looks at me half-on. Her eyes, that brilliant shade of blue, are faintly wet. Her lips quiver, her cheeks take on a low pinkness. Pretty, verging on beautiful, with those bouncy blonde curls, with her petite yet womanly form.

'We'll find a way to have our children, if it means that much to you,' Mads says, slow and methodical. 'But I want her, Theo. God, I want her so badly. And the crueller she seems, the meaner and madder, the more I want her.' A single tear slips down her right cheek, and she hastily brushes it away. 'It's messed up, I know, but her body...her cock.'

'I know,' I say, earning her full attention. 'I think I want her, too. It's slowly making sense, and on some level, I hate myself for it, but I appreciate why you did what you did. She's...exquisite.'

The word just comes out, carrying all of these bundled-up beliefs in one neat, vulgar package. Exquisite. Peerless, in so many ways. And what Mads says is true, as well. That the eviler she seems, the more enrapturing she is. I know better than to continue down this path, know sanely that this is an abandonment of the self, but I'm not sure I care anymore. Maddie is carrying, or will soon be carrying, Irina's offspring. I can either submit to her or relinquish everything I've suffered through to earn, but there's no middle ground option.

'Theo...'

'I know.' I shut my eyes, her judgement soft but the surprise obvious in her voice. 'Look, I have two choices, right? I stay, with you, with Irina, and keep what I've got. Or I go, and lose it all. But when it comes to Irina herself? There's no choice. I have tried, again, and again, to fight back these urges in me, but...I am more attracted to her now than I was when this began. I am ever so attracted to her, Mads.' When I open my eyes, meeting her gaze, I'm surprised that I'm not crying. What I'm admitting, after all, is the closest thing to pathetic that I've ever acknowledged. 'I can stay, or I can go, but I can't refuse Irina. Be it tomorrow, be it a week, or a month, or a year, she's going to win. I don't have a lifetime's willpower inside of me.'

Maddie flutters her eyes, sucks in a short breath. 'I'll still love you, Theo. If you can still love me, that is.'

'Of course,' I say, nodding. 'I don't think that's part of what she's after. I mean, I don't know if I can love her, but I can certainly love what we do. And maybe this is the best way, in the end. Wealthy pets of Irina Blackwell, but we'll still have one another.'

She smiles sweetly, and turns back to her laptop. 'Thank you, Theo. I was worried I might have to do this alone.'

'She's that irresistible?'

Maddie chews on her lower lip and nods frantically. 'Y-eah. Her cock is just...it's perfect. It's not just big, but she knows just what to do with it, and always shoots such big, hot, heavy loads.'

To hear such an admission would've hurt, before these latest events. I can accept, now, that I can't compete with Irina Blackwell. Mads is absolutely something of a size-queen, and that's her prerogative. But Mads, as well, has a bond with me. Gets her affection from me...and gets her sex from Irina. From Mummy.

In fact, merely considering Maddie's words, her appreciation for the awesome endowment of our hung futanari boss, provokes a solidifying in my trousers. A throbbing, and a need to do something about it.

'Maddie,' I say, pushing back on my chair. She glances my way, and for half a moment seems to expect a sexual request. For half a moment, that's where my head ends up, as well. But then I find myself...find myself wanting something more thorough. 'Excuse me.'

Mads blushes as I pass her by, going out into the hallway of the uppermost floor of Blackwell Limited. The boss's door is open, and the sight of it gives me pause. I'm aware, passingly, that if I ask for this, I'm going to have to do something in return. That if I want Irina to make me cum, I'm going to have to return the favour. Both parts of this sordid scenario involve, without fail, an admittance of my shifting patterns of thought. Both parts involve, without fail, an acceptance of Irina as Mummy.

I find her utterly peerless, despite not having showered this morning. Irina Blackwell sits behind her desk, studying a report on her tablet, glancing over those half-rimmed glasses in an effortlessly sensual fashion. Her eyes, raw enchanting emeralds, are all the more perfect for their contrast with her dark, exotic skin. Despite the lack of shower, her makeup is nonetheless spotless, done partly during the car journey and then finalised here in her office.

'Theodore,' she says, without glancing my way. 'Is there a reason you're looming in my doorway?'

I shiver beneath the lurid luxury of her voice, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. Down go the blinds, for the sake of precaution, and only with the veil of privacy surrounding us does the dusky-skinned dickgirl dominatrix glance up at me, her full crescent lips forming a cock-aching smirk.

'Well, honey?'

'I've come to certain realisations,' I say, taking a steady step forwards. 'About my situation. About our situation.'

She runs her perfect white teeth along her lower lip and brings down an elbow atop her desk, leaning on a flattened upright palm. 'Do tell, Theo. I'm all ears. Has my wisdom finally started to get its claws into you, this late in the day?'

'Look, we both know I can't step back from this now. I'm in too deep, and I have far too much to lose.'

'That sounds about right, yes.' Irina smirks at me, wets her lovely crimson lips. 'As I said, so you are. All this time you've fought me, pushed back at me, but it's not so easy, is it? Not when you're contending with your true nature.'

I pause in my approach, hesitating midway between the doorway and the front of her desk. True nature, she says, and it's not meant to be an empowering notion. Not in the traditional sense. My "true nature," in the eyes of Irina Blackwell, is that of a submissive servant for her delectable dominance. Someone who, confronted with her, with all of her beauty and balefulness, capitulates.

And before, I feared it. Hated it with every ounce of me. But I can't pretend away the fact that, just earlier today, I was on the cusp of acting without any need for her to command me. I wanted...wanted what I know, still, that which I should never want, but I wanted it all the same.

'Let's say that I am,' I say, moving towards her. Towards that desk, opulent and unnecessarily showy, suiting her perfectly. 'Can I ask, in this case, for a sexual favour?'

Irina snorts, her composure faltering for a moment, not in the least impinging on her well-made-up attractiveness. 'You are getting bold, aren't you? But words don't mean a great deal, honey. It's all well and good, you implying that I'm right, but I need proof. Actions speak far louder than words, Theodore.'

I knew, on some level, that things would go this way. Now, if only she'll tell me what to do, I'm spared the indignation of it. Somehow, that saves me. Or it would, and will, if only she'll say something.

But as I approach her desk, as I stand before it, a mere metre across from her, Irina merely smirks at me. Smugness, devilish pride. An exquisitely beautiful woman, with a rotten black counterfeit soul. And yet here I am, making a choice. Here I am, in the lion's den.

'What do you want me to do?'

'I don't want you to do anything, honey. I want you to tell me what it is that you want to do to me.' She winks, emerald enchantment in a momentary gesture. 'I'm not stupid, Theo. This isn't going to work unless you're happy to come clean with me.' Irina pulls back from the desk and relaxes into her grand chair, her throne of office. It's impossible to avoid noting, as she moves, the jiggle of those sublimely sizeable breasts. The same tits I was applying my tongue to, earlier this morning. 'We're so close, I can feel it. So close to finally getting what we both want. So give me it, honey. Tell me the honest truth. I've done so much to break you down, isn't it about time we build you up? An honest, happier Theodore Brackley?'

Her words put a chill down my back, their meaning undeniable. Irina, getting her own way, but more than that. Me, admitting that I want her to get her own way. Me, admitting what I was about to do in the bathroom earlier. Me, admitting that for all she's done to me, it hasn't deterred this desire I feel towards her.

'You know what I was about to do,' I say. 'In the bathroom, this morning.'

'Oh, I know.' Irina smirks, hinting at lovely pearly-whites. 'Spell it out for me, in English. I want to know, honey. I want to know what you were about to do without me telling you to do it.'

There's no going back from this, is there? I step forwards again, right up to the edge of her desk, catching a whiff of her scents. Sweet perfume and yet, beneath it, that potent muskiness of her body, this morning unwashed. Cock and balls pleasantly ripe, their potent odour thick and virile, enticingly vulgar.

'I wanted to give you a blowjob, all right? I wanted you to tell me to do it, but you didn't. I wouldn't have refused.' To speak such an admittance, lurid as it is, to this woman of all people in the world, is somehow liberating. 'I know why you didn't have me do it, and here I am. Telling you the truth.'

Irina's mouth is a thing of enthralling magic, a dark enchantment etched into the shape of a pair of full, lacquered lips. She moves it just so, provoking a tinge of excitement in my trousers. It's endlessly bothersome, that she has so powerful an impact on me. That for all she's done, I can't separate my attraction from her sins.

'It's been a long time since this all began, hasn't it?' Irina says, pushing gently backwards from her desk. 'Do you remember that blowjob you gave me to secure that promotion? It meant something, didn't it?'

The implication in her stance is obvious, the quick descent of her hands to hike up her skirt while she widens her gait to make room for me below her, beneath her desk. Irina, noting the awareness in my eyes, smirks all the fiercer.

'This one won't mean anything, Theo. Maybe I'll get you off, or maybe I won't, but this isn't transactional. Continue being honest, honey, right up to the moment my sperm are swimming across your tongue. Acknowledge me as I deserve.'

It boils down to this, doesn't it? She's laid out the terms, and if I go forwards, then I'll be playing to her tune. This isn't about some deal, this isn't about obeying her. This is about me, wanting this. Wanting to service her. Wanting, as well, to taste the same genes that have doubtlessly put a baby inside of Mads. Wanting to...wanting to acknowledge my balefully beautiful boss in the most servile manner either of us can picture.

'Okay,' I manage to say. 'I will.'

Irina wets her lips, while I'm aware that I'm beginning to salivate. She turns her chair out in my direction, legs spread wide, and as I turn the corner to the rear of her desk, her excessive endowments are on full and fantastic show.

Her cock is mostly erect, from the simple prelude of conversation. The weight of it is obvious, the way it sits across her plump pair of smooth balls, each like a fat kiwi fruit in size and shape. Her pubes are dark, bushy, wild above the base of her length, which is dusky and alluring, veined towards its overtly opulent crown, the dark purple of which peeks through the folds of her foreskin, faintly glistening.

The dominant dickgirl beckons me closer, and I go to her like a zombie, caught up in a trance. Where before I knew I needed to resist, now I can't seem to envision it. Now, all that matters is that I capitulate to her. That I sate this vulgar urge, boiling up within me, which demands I demean myself by honouring her.

And when I get close enough, Irina snatches me by the shoulders and pulls me in close, pressing her mouth to my own. Mwah. Smack. With dominating hunger she eats my face, sticking her tongue right past my lips and using it as some tool of lasciviousness to push down my own, to assert herself over me. For all her womanliness, the Amazonian beauty is strong, effortlessly pressing down on me and forcing me onto my knees, all the while maintaining the rough snogging up until the last moment.

She pulls away, lips glistening, emerald eyes aflame with possessive passion, depraved dominance. Irina brings up a hand to the top of my head and strokes back my hair, winding her fingers through the individual fibres.

'I know you're not completely where I want you to be yet, Theo,' she says, resting back in her chair, the veritable throne of her office. 'You don't fool me.'

'You think I'm going to do this and not mean it?'

'It's not that.' She presses a finger to the middle of my forehead, nail faintly scratching on the skin. 'You're still reticent. Still trying to supress that part of you that wants nothing more than to give yourself to me. I see it in your eyes, honey.'

After a moment, unsure quite where to look, I say, 'Wouldn't you be?'

'I'd never be in your situation, Theo. This is going above and beyond, and I'm not going to turn you away, but you can't really give yourself fully over to the rightfulness of things. That first admittance, that request for something of a trade, makes it clear even if your face were better at concealing the truth.' She sighs, and taps my forehead, rolling her emerald eyes. 'What I want, Theo, is for you to never think of yourself. To never ask for anything in return. To enter this room with the sole purpose of sating my lusts, without a hint of hope that you might get some pleasure as a reward.'

Her utterance puts a chill through me, culminating in a violent throbbing of my cock. It says something vulgar, absurd, that the possibility of some future self who capitulates to her in so thorough and perverse a fashion seems something readily imaginable now, where before I despised such a permutation of the self that it seemed the antithesis of my very being. As I inhale the disturbingly delectable musk of her crotch, finding in its odour a saliva-invoking waft of potency that far outpaces my own, my gaze falls down from hers to passingly marvel at the exceptional excess of her chest, the womanly curvature of her torso, and finally comes to rest on the sensual sight of her mighty member.

'I'm letting you do this because, despite all I've just said, I also know that you want it,' Irina says, garnering an upwards flick of my eyes. Her face is exquisite, her beauty dark and delicious, terrifying and tantalising. The contrast of her dusky skin, that dyed crimson hair, and those verdant green eyes is astounding. 'Are you going to give me a real blowjob, honey? A long, slow, worshipful act of service, culminating in a heavy mouthful of my genes?'

I don't hesitate to lick my lips, something about the depravity desirable as well as worrisome. 'That's why I'm here, Mummy.'

She laughs, a two-note humour. Irina pats my head, sending coruscations of carnality down my spine as she runs her nails across my scalp. 'Then say it, Theo. Stop hiding. Admit that I'm superior, and admit that the closest you'll ever be to my equal is to let my sperm swim across your tastebuds, and into your belly. Give me a blowjob that says not merely that you want to please me, but that all you want in return is the opportunity to taste my body in its rawest and most intimate form.'

As I slowly reach for her cock, I shy away from her green gaze. The warmth of her body tickles at the tips of my fingers, and the moment I touch her shaft, very almost fully engorged, I shiver. Familiar and yet foreign, somehow, as if today is different. As if today is somehow the very first time I've actually done this, despite knowing full well that it's not.

As if today, I'm doing it for real, and not simply wishing I was elsewhere.

'I can't,' I say. 'Sorry.'

'You can't what, honey? You're still touching me.'

'I can't tell you what you want to hear, Irina. I...I'm not there yet.'

The buxom, baleful beauty chuckles. 'That's a spicy choice of wording, Theodore. You know what it implies, don't you?'

'I know.' As I firm up my grip on her mammoth member, lavishing in the heat and weight and power of it, I know. 'I'm not going anywhere, all right? One of these days, I'll...I'll be who you want me to be. Just not today.'

'We'll see,' she says. 'Kiss me, honey. I give you permission.'

A final glance at her gorgeous greens does all that's necessary, paired with that vulgar command. I lift her lance towards my mouth, the muskiness tingling my nostrils, her bulky bell-end, richly lustrous purple beneath the folds of dusky skin, warming my lips simply from proximity. Mwah. The kiss comes without hesitation, for all reservation is dead. But...it doesn't come without a degree of surprise, either.

Smooch. Smack.

The heat of her body against my skin begets a second peck, and a third. There's something right about the impressiveness of her immense organ, particularly when pressed against the opening of my mouth. Something about it that's so enjoyable, with how it feels against my flesh, leaving a kiss of its own in sticky oily form where my mouth touches upon the opening of her foreskin.

'Mhm.'

Schlep. Smooch.

Irina shivers as I grip her glans between my lips and tilt my head to the left, sliding my mouth down the side of her helmet while keeping it hooded and held in place. I flick my tongue against it, glazing my tastebuds with her dirtily delicious flavours, salty and slightly bitter, some distant hint of Mads present, dried onto her skin. The explosion of taste flutters my eyelids, wedges my heart thundering away in the back of my throat.