She's the Boss Ch. 09

Maddie blushes as I semi-stumble back into our office, my own cheeks doubtless far redder given the flush heat that still courses through them. I clumsily brush my cock twice, first on the doorframe and then on the side of my desk, in both instances drawing unwanted attention to the fact that I am stupendously and unreasonably hard right now.

Irina's load is omnipresent in my nose, impossible to fully escape. Every breath brings with it a tang of her potency, a reminder of what I just did. And given the way that Mads stealthily -- though clearly not stealthily enough -- wets her lips, the overwhelming stink of our boss's virility is obvious to more than just myself.

'Did it go well?' she says, watching me side-on. Fingers on keys, mostly front-facing, but she can't stop appreciating the subtle giveaways on my face. The signs that yes, it went very well.

I usually have this way with Mads, this means to speak to her as though she's my lesser, but recent events are little by little sinking in. Maddie is my...I don't know, anymore. What lust she has provoked in me, from time to time, is frustratingly faint right now. I should, by all rights, hate her very guts, but on some absolutely awful level I'm almost grateful that she's been such a slut when it comes to Irina.

The blowjob I just gave might well be the singularly most satisfying sexual experience of my entire life, and I didn't even get to cum.

'I'm...I need to get something,' I say, rising in a hurry. Again, my throbbing erection bangs against my desk, though I manage to prevent any further incident with the doorframe. Mads simply watches me go, a look of surprise on her face, concern accompanying it, but she doesn't manage anything in the way of words.

I make it halfway towards the lifts before realising that my car isn't here, so I make a detour to the executive toilets, the nicest and most private in the building. Each is practically a one-person bathroom, and after locking myself in one of the men's, I have a moment of peace. A moment of peace, and a mirror with which to consider myself.

Nothing about the man staring back at me conjures up the image of a lunatic in a straightjacket. Even as he smiles, as I find myself smiling, it's not the look of someone gone completely insane. If only, if only! Because no, there's a method to my madness. In wetting those smiling lips with my tongue, in tasting the salty tanginess of the semen that yet residually lingers around my entire oral area, I know that I don't want things to go back to how they were. Even if they can, which I'm not sure is a possibility now.

It's all such a thicket of tangling thorns, this entire situation. Oh, amidst the brambles there are fruits, the sweetest in all the world, but the maze is still a cage and the barbs still tear flesh. I know what is right, what is good, what I should do. To hell with it, burn it all, reject it all, but...the blowjob is all the proof I need.

Something about dropping to my knees and taking that awful woman's perfect penis inside my mouth, for the sole purpose of giving her tremendous pleasure, is impossibly ideal. To do it knowing that my only reward will be a heavy mouthful of her tangy and erotically flavourful genetic material, knowing that my only reward will be to accept her victory in the most primal way imaginable, makes me ache with shameful lust. To worship her for her bad behaviour, to worship her for breaking me as she has, to worship her for usurping control of my life and my future, comes so naturally to me.

But I'm not at all sad. Not anywhere close to crying. The blowjob, again, is all the proof I need. I can't make sense of these urges, this part of me that's so warped from what should be best and noblest, but I know that I don't want this business with my boss to stop.

I'm so twisted, in fact, that I can't even bring myself to be properly angry with Maddie. Oh, I should be. I should hate her guts, doing what she did, fucking cucking me. But...if she didn't do that, what would my future be? I lick my lips and still taste Irina, still taste the residue of her sperm, and I'm grotesquely grateful that Mads is who she is. That she did what she did.

Fuck, I am so, so wrong.

Before I know it, I've got my cock in my hand, masturbating over the sink. The thought in question? Maddie, pregnant, but the child isn't mine. I lick my lips again, go so far as to rub my belly, knowing that I'm full of the same genes. Knowing that I want -- no, crave -- a second helping. A third. Shit, why not just go to Irina and ask for a whole day of it, like we did before?

'Ugh. F-uck.'

In no time at all I'm bucking, spewing, done so quickly. It's just so hot, and I need the relief more than I need anything so grandiose and pointless as self-respect. My load comes out pathetic, compared to the futanari's. A shadow of Irina Blackwell's in terms of volume, stickiness, and overall virility. Shit, would it have even mattered if Mads was on her safest day? Irina is just so--

I stop my train of thoughts and tremble, eyes widening in terrible realisation. This, now, post-climax, with my cum draining away down the basin with the help of a constant rush of hot steaming water, should be practically asexual. Should be disgusted. Isn't that how it always goes?

But not now. Not this time. My dick might well have been drained of one load, but so what? It's more than my cock that is under Irina's sway. Way more than my cock. My mouth, for instance, is no place of pleasure -- not in the true sexual sense, at least, and certainly not for me in that case -- but it knows the dusky dickgirl's shape, knows her taste, knows all the right spots and the right angles of approach.

My arse is, admittedly, less used by my Amazonian boss, but it's no stranger nor enemy of hers. If anything, my cock should be the sole rebel, that part of me that practically never gets any attention from her, but...even having shot a load, it can't save me. Can't push away this deep-seated desire to go to Irina Blackwell and defile myself for her own satisfaction.

I wash my hands and clean up, and leave the bathroom facing the reality ahead of me. A lifetime of pleasure, but not on my terms. Degradation, humiliation, the twin debtors who I must pay respects to if I'm to get the most out of my existence. Or else...

No. It makes me smile, to realise that there isn't an alternative. I doubt it'll be all that long before I'm so twisted out of shape that I come to believe Irina's bullshit, to see the world through that lustful lens she so happily applies to it. If there's any foresight to be had, it's that this pattern persists: the longer this goes on, the easier it becomes to swallow. Metaphorically and otherwise. Given enough time, I'll look back on even these last failing fears with nothing more than a sperm-glazed smile.

Still, in my thoughtfulness, I don't notice a few key details which might spare me the initial stages of surprise. Irina's office, with its blinds up, and a full view of her desk. My office, its blinds all down. A faint drumbeat underfoot, a rhythmic rumbling that, were my head not in the clouds, I might recognise, or at least estimate.

'Ugh. That's my little--aah--broodmare slut.'

Schlick-schluck-thwap, schlick-schluck-thwup, schlick-schluck-thwap.

'Mhm. M-ummy!'

Testament to my warped mind, opening the door on the two of them might have only recently caused me to flee. The sight of Irina from the back, stripped down to only the white of her blouse, leaning over my desk and thrusting with intense force, is illicit enough without spotting Maddie's ankles locked together around our boss's waist and resting upon the top arches of those fat womanly hips.

That I instead step inside, shutting and locking the door behind me, is the undeniable proof of it. That the musky mixture of their sex smells thick and rich in the air makes me lick my lips, and that the constantly messy sounds of Mads's soaking snatch as the Amazonian futanari slams herself up to the hilt with every movement causes me to want to touch myself despite having just shot a load, is the end of things.

Schlick-schluck-thwap, schlick-schluck-thwup, schlick-schluck-thwap.

'Argh. Tight little blonde whore.'

'Mhm. Y-es, I'm your--aah--little blonde whore, Mummy.'

Shamefully, it's not my boss's big beautiful backside that captures the bulk of my initial interest, but rather her large and productive loins. Those big dark balls sag so low in their tight silken sack, swinging back and forth with every powerful piston movement of the dickgirl's hips, walloping against Maddie's butt where it hangs over the front edge of my desk.

Rarely, she'll pull out enough that I get a good look at the underside of her shaft, utterly slathered in the cream of the pretty blonde's coochie. Its cum vein is enormous, the whole veiny dark beast is magnificent to behold, more than a foot of thick futanari virility.

I...I can't compete with that, can I? As I watch the continuing coitus, the beautiful contrast of the fair-skinned woman and the dusky-fleshed futanari, those perfect pink lips sucking around Irina's erection as if milking from her the recipe for immortality, I know there's no contest between us. Perhaps know, on some level, that this is right, that this is proper, and that if anything I should be satisfied with being part of it.

'You can--ughn--help me along if you want, Theo honey,' Mummy says, making no effort to look back at me. Her long braid of scarlet shivers side to side down her back, ending just above the captivating colossus that is her callipygian rump. 'We're just making sure the pregnancy--uhf--takes. You know how it is, I'm sure.'

Making sure, of course. It stings a little, to take in the sight of Maddie's sopping wet pussy, drooling down the front of my desk.

Not because she's no longer mine, but because Irina's kinks play out differently between us. Mads has the benefit of being breedable, and so our dominant boss gets the added benefit of thinking herself -- rightly so -- some stallion mounting its mare. But the pussy is leagues more sensitive than the mouth, one being a bona fide sex organ while the other is...well, not such a thing.

But rather than put me off, the thought provokes another erection. Mummy's obsession with feeding me her dick, and in turn her milk, is all the more degrading with that realisation in mind. That at least if she was crazier about fucking my arse, I'd be getting genuine enjoyment out of it. Instead, it's very one-sided, as if to exemplify that she's better in this area of maleness than I, a true male, happen to be.

Schlick-schluck-thwap, schlick-schluck-thwup, schlick-schluck-thwap.

The sound of their rutting tickles me in all the right places, growing louder with every step I take towards them. Fact is, Irina's almost certainly got the right of it. Exposed as she is right now, in the heat of things, I could whip my cock out and mount her, for a change, but she doesn't even consider me a threat. Her pussy is right there, and she knows that I'm going to drop to my knees and suck on those fat and perfect testicles to ensure that yes, the pregnancy takes.

Shit, it's not even what she told me to do, and yet it's right where my mind goes.

'Ughn. Good girl. Keep those legs nice and tight around Mummy.'

'Aaah. I--mhmf--will. Ooh.'

It's a good thing the desk is sturdy, but Irina probably intended for that when she purchased it. It rattles against the floor with every thrust, the futanari delivering a tremendous amount of power with the swinging of her wide womanly hips. That body, perfect in every sense, seems all the more divine from this angle. I can't take my eyes away from her swinging nuts, her clenching buttocks and thighs. Fuck, I need to do this.

'Mummy,' I say, moving close, close enough to touch. Her rippling cheeks are glorious. 'I...'

The crossed wires, the need to talk and the craving to drop to my knees, clash and kill the sentence. It takes my boss turning back to me, looking imperious, looking almost like some Egyptian goddess with that characteristic style of mascara, green-eyed and red-haired and fiery of temperament, wearing the most dominantly delectable of smiles upon her full-lipped mouth, to restore some semblance of order.

'On your knees, honey. Suck on my nuts. They're always most responsive to you, Theo.'

I'm dropping before she turns away, in the process widening that smile. Dropping onto the carpet, down to the point that her heavy hangers are bouncing and swinging away before my face, wafting the sexual tang of their rutting into my eager nose. I can't stop licking my lips at the sight of them, forgetting all the surrounding details. Oh, her pussy is perfect, and Mads is gorgeous, and Irina's backside and thighs are so proud and plumply strong, but...the next best thing to having Mummy in my mouth is to get my mouth around Mummy.

Slurp, schlep, schlep, slurp.

'Mhmf. Mumph.'

I manage, somehow, to catch her left nut as it swings away from Mads. To catch it and get it halfway jammed into my mouth, gently held between my lips, where it pulsates away in need of attention. Fuck, it tastes good, glazed in sweat and splattered with the salty-sweetness of Maddie's productive pussy. I run my tongue across its swollen shape, adoring the way the skin moves at odds with the lump itself, held there within her sack.

'Ughn. Good boy,' Mummy says, slowing for a moment. 'God, Mads, darling, he's going to work up the motherlode of sperm for you.'

'Can I--mhm--see?'

'For--ugh--a moment, maybe.'

Irina is surprisingly flexible, for a woman with her curves. As I nurse away on her left testicle, sucking and slurping without a care in the world. Mummy lifts her leg on that side, managing to get her foot up on the desk. It takes far too long a moment for me to realise that, with the angle being what it is, and Mads herself possessing a suitable degree of versatility in her posture, the blue-eyed beauty is looking straight at me while I tend to our dominant dickgirl Mummy's potent loins.

The sight of those blonde curls knocked to the side, and the redness creeping across her pretty cheeks -- not entirely down to me, given the nature of our compromising positions -- might once have given me pause. Might, once, have caused me to reassess what I'm doing here beneath our boss, behind their momentarily halted copulation.

Slurp, schlup, slurp, schlep.

But it doesn't. Irina's lifted leg has brought her balls up at a slight angle, forced me to adjust my own posture to keep her left nut in my mouth, and so it's a given that Mads and I can get a look at one another. Two ends of the same sordid situation, each of us existing in a state of servitude for the sake of Irina Blackwell, tempting and terrible as she is.

'He looks so...hungry,' Maddie says, a pink hint of tongue urgently tasting her lips. 'Didn't you--mhm--already cum in his mouth?'

Mummy chuckles. 'I fed him a very big load, yes, but Theo's never satisfied. He loves the taste of my genes, honey. He can' -- schluck-schlick -- 'gulp down some of what I shoot into you, if he continues to behave himself.'

Irina thrusts and halts, and the powerful movements of her body strain my hold on her testicle and force me to sink my hands into the supportive plushness of her thick thighs. Her words, and Maddie's gaze, seem to infuse the dominant dickgirl's nuts with an even bolder, more delectable flavour of filthiness.

'Not...not too much.'

Irina promptly lowers her leg again, dipping me back into the relative gloom of sweet sticky humidity beneath her. 'Not too much, no. We are trying to start a family, after all.'

Schlick-schluck-schfwup, schlick-schluck-schfwap, schlick-schluck-schfwup.

'Ooh. Of c-ourse, Mummy. We can't forget what's--aahn--important!'

Mads moans and whines as Irina begins ploughing her again without a moment's pause, wasting no time. The pretty blonde's sounds tickle the lustiest, most pathetically horny parts of me, reminding me in no uncertain terms as to who owns her pussy, and with it, her womb. Degraded and twisted as I am beneath Irina's gorgeousness and glamour, however, what once would've caused great pain now merely makes my dick throb all the fiercer.

The dusky-skinned futanari, naturally, pays no heed to what's easiest for me to handle with the urgency of her impaling. Thankfully her balls are big enough, saggy enough from their massiveness, that I don't have to strain myself all too much to keep up with her. I lean in closer, of course, and the perverse perfume of their rutting further clouds my judgement with its pheromonal intensity.

Her right nut, swinging freely, barely connects with Maddie's coochie as it jiggles and sways with the forcefulness of fucking. It for the most part slaps back against my face, constantly sticky with juices, such a heavy and intimidatingly virile lump suggestive of a tremendous capacity to produce sperm.

'Mhmf. Mumph.'

I moan, down in my dirty little sanctum, out of their combined sight. A pet to one, a faux-master to the other, but the hierarchy here is all but clear. No matter what Mummy says about loving me the most, I can't give her what Mads can. She'll never bear my children, and now with that idea burning like wildfire through her mind, the path ahead is clear, and wholly contained between the young blonde's eagerly opened and waist-gripping legs.

'F-uck me, Mummy. Mhm. Br-eed me!'

'Ugh. I will, honey. I--ughf--will. Just you wait, you impatient little minx.'

Schlick-schluck-schfwup, schlick-schluck-schfwap, schlick-schluck-schfwup.

It might've already happened, but until we see that confirmation, every session is an attempt at impregnation. The driving of that perfect penis into that creamy coochie is going to be a daily deed, something I can ignore or...partake of, in my own submissive fashion.

Mwah, slurp, smooch, schlup, slurp.

And partake of it I shall. To release her bollock for a moment and kiss the inside of her thigh, to inhale deeply of their mixed fluids and bask in the sounds of mating fills me with no end of exultant eroticism. I let Mummy's nuts swing back and baste my face in their funk, in Maddie's juices, becoming something of a pastiche of genital muskiness that seems so natural, so right.

This...this is a good life, isn't it? Really, truly, it is. The thought sticks in my head, provokes a low and trembling smile, as I attempt to catch Irina's right testicle in my mouth as it swings between my face and Mads's butt, hitting one set of cheeks or another. It takes three goes, but when I manage it, snatching it out of the air into the appreciative gripping of my lips, I'm rewarded with a powerful tremble through Mummy's body that makes abundantly clear the fact that my presence, albeit not the main event, is nonetheless deeply appreciated.

'God, he's eager,' Irina says, the pleasure oozing from her sultry, slightly strained voice. 'He wants me to--aah--knock you up as much as you want it, honey.'

'Mhm. F-uck, yes.'

Schlick-schluck-schfwup, schlick-schluck-schfwap, schlick-schluck-schfwup.

Slurp, schlup, schlurp, slurp.

The orchestra of vulgar sounds grows thicker and richer, filling my office with a crudeness that seems fittingly out of place in a work environment. Familiar enough in Irina's office, but mine...even all those times I've fucked Mads, it's never been this raucous. The three-way tryst, the combination of the two women fucking and my servile self giving our Mummy oral worship, possesses a passion to it that me and Maddie could never produce by ourselves.

There's simply something primal, to be with the both of them. To lavish in the salty sweetness of their bodies, coupled in this way. To bask in this warmth, to be part of this degrading delight, to be emasculated by this tremendously virile beauty who has me beat, time and again, in the dirty little game we've shared.