The New Girl Ch. 06

I rest my chin upon her full bronze flesh. 'Is that a problem?'

Freya shakes her head. 'It's just...' She trails off, stares at the wall, away with her thoughts.

'It's hard to believe,' I say, and she comes back to me, eyes all wet and aquamarine blue. 'I know the feeling. I feel the same.'

'Do you?' The tone isn't off, it's not a doubtful question. There's a vulnerability about her, heart exposed to the elements. 'I know my desires and demands are weird, Tom, but I might actually fall in love with you at this rate.'

But she's strong, to say something like that. To cascade my soul into a fluttering frenzy.

'R-eally?'

She nods, pats my head. 'Really. But...I don't think you'll be easily replaced, so I need to know if you're serious.'

'Serious how?'

Freya opens her bag and pulls out a little black box, a square a bit larger than a palm. 'I bought this on Saturday,' she says, presenting it to me. 'Open it. It's serious.'

I sit upright and take the box, and its contents widen my eyes, put a lump in my throat. Freya is blushing as I remove the choker, a simple loop of silvery metal a bit suitably large for my neck. At the front is a little heart-shaped pendant hanging off. It reads, in engraved letters: "Freya's Slut."

The meaning, the perverseness, clicks together in my head. I tremble, blush, and smirk.

'I have the only key,' Freya says. 'If you put it on, it won't come off until I allow it. And if you put it on, I want you to call me Mistress, going forwards. And I want to train you to be the love of my life. I want you to come and live with me. I want you to sleep in my bed. I want you to devote yourself to me, to belong to me, to live for my pleasure and happiness. I want you to do this until the day one of us dies. Do you understand?'

Daunting. Forever. Time from now, this second, this moment, until the end of my life. And yes, I imagine I could get it removed by a specialist, but...Freya began with the operant word, if. So...I have a choice.

I...I don't know.

'Freya,' I say. 'What if...what if I refuse?'

'Then I don't want this to continue. We're over.' Not harsh, but even the possibility of that is unpleasant on the ear. Freya herself keeps a stony face, but her eyes tell it true. She doesn't want that outcome. 'I understand that this is a big decision. You don't have to decide right this moment, if you'd prefer to leave it.'

I can quite easily see myself loving this woman, this futanari, but what if I change my mind? What if I decide I want to be dominant, or even just to mix things up? What if I want to actually experience vagina, as a straight(ish) man, for once in my life?

'You're asking a lot,' I say. 'Like I think you're amazing, but...there are certain things I want. A certain type of affection, maybe, and if everything is on your terms, then--'

'I will do things with your dick, okay?' Freya looks even prettier with her cheeks all red. 'I will, at the very least, put it between my tits. And I will -- when I feel like it -- put it in my mouth.'

'And...?'

She crosses her arms over her breasts and glances away, cheeks aflame. 'I will, at some point, need to think about my legacy, and it's...it's clear to me that my genes are so much stronger than yours that, should you be the father, people will likely think I impregnated myself.' Freya shoots her gaze, awkward and almost shy, back at me. 'I will ride you -- I'm always going to be on top -- once a week, in addition to our other activities.'

Once a week? Once a fucking week?

No way. What?

'Once a week?' I say.

She glares at me. 'Twice if we must. But you will have to learn to last. The show in Science today was pathetic, even for you.'

I drop the box on my lap and sit backwards, almost toppling, catching myself on my palms at the last moment. Freya Venyabildt lifts an eyebrow, studies me with bemusement. I just blink, dumbstruck, staring up towards her but not really at her.

'Well?' she says.

'I thought...I thought you'd never...'

Freya frowns. 'Yes, well, I realise that you have needs of your own, and I'd be a pretty crappy owner if I didn't take good care of my favourite pet. But don't you dare get ideas above your station and become demanding. You're already pushing your luck here.'

'Once a week is plenty,' I say, rising up onto my knees. I rest my hands on her lovely thighs. 'It sounded like a lot, that's all.'

'Once a month, then?' But Freya chuckles at whatever minute change occurs on my face. 'Once a week is fine,' she says, uncrossing her arms and stroking my cheek with an elegant finger. 'Maybe twice if I find myself really liking it.' That same finger shifts, and she flicks my nose. 'You do have to become mine, though. I do want an answer.'

I pick up the box from my lap and pull out the choker, unhinging it at the back. In the weird way that we do things together, this might actually be romantic. 'I think you should do the honours, Mistress.'

Freya's blush deepens as I hold up the choker. 'You're a very good boy, Tom,' she says, sultry and delicious. My Mistress takes up the silver and opens it fully, pressing the cool metal to the front of my throat. 'I'm going to treat you extremely well.'

The click of the lock puts a thunderbolt down my spine that culminates in an almost instantaneous erection. I'm always kind of popping a half-chub in Freya's presence, but the physical culmination of our kinky ownership play puts things into overdrive.

She stands up then and undoes her skirt, stepping out of it when it reaches her shoes. When Freya sits back down I'm face-to-face with her overstuffed lacy white panties, her heavy balls and thick cock threatening to spill out of the edges.

'Well?' she says. 'Take care of your Mistress.'

Lust and unearthly joy are a tantalising fire through my mind.

I take hold of her womanly hips and pull myself forwards, shoving my face against her bulge, rubbing it against my cheeks and mouth and nose and forehead. Such a potent smell, Freya's virility, musky and pleasant. Such warmth, from her perfect body, from her perfect dick.

She chuckles, almost giggles, as I massage the flesh of her hips and ply her curves with my hands, all the while sniffing her junk and kissing the outline of her impressive male organs through the opaque white of her undies.

'This brings me back,' Freya says, stroking my head. 'It was that dumb bitch Maxwell blowing me in here that put you in my sights.'

'Mfyes,' I say, muffled by crotch. 'Mhm.'

'I never imagined a boy would suck my dick in here.' She chuckles. 'And yet here we are.'

'Mhm-hm.'

It's not just me who's quick to stiffen today. With kisses and the rubbing of my face, Freya's large flaccid cock rapidly transforms into its full hugeness, poking out the top of her panties and then swiftly achieving its proper breadth and length.

She stands again and pushes me backwards with a thrust of her hips, knocking me onto my backside. The bronze Amazonian towers above me, enormous cock disappearing up beneath her tight shirt. Freya begins opening the buttons with frantic need, in the process losing her cool and tearing a couple of them off.

When the last one goes, I have no time to admire her divine belly or to gaze upon the cleavage of those bra-bound breasts. Her throbbing bronze member drops down under the weight of its fat crown, slapping my forehead, giving me a wet kiss with its shrouded tip. Freya giggles and jams her thumbs into her panties, pushing them down her thighs, freeing her heaving nuts to dangle and bounce away.

'You exist only for me, Tom,' she says, taking her monster in hand. 'You are my personal slut. You are a vessel for my pleasure. You are a dumpster for my cum.'

She brings her cock down on my face, the slap hot and sloppy, precum splattering my cheek. Freya puts her other hand behind my head and thrusts herself forwards, grinding her erection against my lips and nose, hips rising and falling as she lowers and raises herself to achieve the maximum amount of contact.

'Yes, Mistress,' I say. 'I am your personal slut, I am--'

I'm cut short by the imposition of her heavy balls, which she slams with intent against my lips. The warm damp sack is smooth, mostly hairless, but it stinks divinely of her potency, and when she lifts her hips a little further and sandwiches my nose between her fist-sized bollocks, I'm struck by how badly I want her sperm.

She chuckles playfully as she gyrates her body, bouncing her nuts about my face. 'I love marking you,' Freya says. 'Making you all smelly with my dick and balls.'

My Mistress leans away and digs her fingers through my hair, tilting my head backwards. She's smirking, voluptuous lips hinting at perfect teeth. Her immense manhood hovers above my face, held there by a lovely hand. I can't help but smile, blushing and out of my depth as I may be.

'I love how you smell, Mistress. I love everything about you.'

She releases her cock, which comes to rest across the length of my face. 'Prove it,' Freya says. 'I know it'll be clumsy, but you're a man, submissive and slutty as you are. You know instinctively how to worship cock, Tom.'

Freya sits back down, dick trailing a sticky rope of precum as its tip crosses my face and drops off my chin. She's so hung that her penis has to rest against those giant nuts, even at full hardness. 'Worship me, slut. Worship your Mistress.'

What else needs to be said between us?

She does, admittedly, make a little yelp of surprise when I ravenously latch onto her hips again and throw myself at her. I kiss that toned stomach, that bronze flesh, beginning at her belly button and getting lost in the golden wilderness of her pubes, stinking of her, musky and feminine and virile at once.

'Oh shit,' she says. 'You're fucking filthy.'

If I weren't so fucking horny I might laugh. Freya actually looks shocked. Shocked at what she's created. She did want a slut, didn't she?

I dig my nose into her crotch, kiss her pubes, bury my face into that deliciously-scented region above her fat monster of a cock. With one hand I massage the inside of a thigh, with the other I take hold of her heavy length, which pulses angrily against my palm and beneath my fingers.

Freya is actually speechless for a change. She stares, blue eyes wide and wet with lust, as I masturbate her and smooch around the hairy base of her cock. I smirk a little, pleased at myself, pleased with her response, pleased to just fucking be here.

And the little trembling moan she makes when I slip down further, giving a tentative kiss to her left testicle, is priceless. The blonde-haired bronze Amazonian chews on her lower lip, makes a face at me that eggs me on while being thoroughly needy, wholly out of control here.

But she allows it to continue. Because I think in that same way that I as a man take the greatest of pride in the mere thought of someone loving me such that my cock is included in the process, it must be the same way for Freya.

Freya, who likes dudes, who before me had resigned herself to raping them.

Freya, who is on the cusp of receiving a very clumsy but very affection attempt at a blowjob.

She must be in heaven right now.

'Oh,' she says. 'Ooh. Uh. Tom...'

The kiss on her left nut turns into an out and out snog, lips and tongue fully engaged as I rub my mouth about beneath her shaft. Her big balls, like everything else, are beautiful. I love the way they bounce, the weight they possess, the cute little golden hairs that sprout here and there on the silky loose skin of her sack.

'Tom.' Her tone is fiercer, still cute. I glance up at her. Freya is flustered, cheeks red, eyes wild. 'Suck it. Please. I...I want to cum in your mouth and...and...' Guilty, shameful, this lovely side of my Mistress rears its head again. 'This is exactly what I wanted but it feels too good, okay? So just...just blow me.'

Something in her voice tells me in no uncertain terms that she is not going to last if I continue the plan in my head. Freya wanted worship, but honestly, this seems like her Achilles' heel. Is she seriously weak to blowjobs? The idea of them? Or is it just a particularly horny day?

Whatever the case, I retreat from between her legs and line my mouth up with her needily straining cock, which twitches away in my hands. 'Anything for you, Mistress,' I say, and Freya chews on her lip again, a throb running through her. I restrain the urge to comment.

God, she's fucking cute. But her dick is anything but.

Not in a bad way -- I genuinely think it's beautiful, all the more so as I begin to pull back the hood from its tip -- but the thing is monstrous. Fourteen inches, she says. Fourteen inches of bronze veiny meat, culminating in a pretty pink glans like a German army helmet. Jesus, the head alone looks like it might fill up my mouth, let alone the other eleven inches.

There's a wet pop, and I lick my lips when her bell-end shows itself. It drools, glistening in the overhead lights. Such a fat prominence, narrower at the eyelet, thickly crested around the base of the mushroom. Her male smell, her futanari smell, is primal and sticky in my nose and my thoughts. Musky, salty, bitter.

And I look her dead in the eyes, conjuring a sentence that, if any woman were to say it to me, would make my day. Maybe my year. So here goes.

'Please feed me your semen, Mistress Freya,' I say. 'I want to taste your sperm so badly.'

She stares at me, blue eyes wild with lust and raw infuriating desire, trembling on the spot without physical aid. Freya tries and fails to say something, settling instead for gnawing on her lip. I lick mine again and go in for the finale, pressing my mouth to the broad swell of her gooey pink perfect penis tip.

'Ughn. Tom...'

Her eyes shut and open, but I stare up at her. Freya's helmet is so hot, so sticky and slippery. It easily slides past my lips, taking its rightful place inside my mouth. My tongue greets it, showering it with affection, smothering my favourite creature in all the world with the most primeval manner of adoration I can picture myself providing.

I need more time. I need more time to appreciate the way her cock has such a lovely crown atop its gargantuan thickness, the way that lovely crown has such beautifully-defined curves and contours, the way those beautifully-defined curves and contours brush against the top of my mouth and warm my cheeks and flatten down my tongue as if her body is designed to fill my mouth so well.

But Freya isn't herself today. Not that she has to be all fierceness and fire for me to obey her, to respect her, to love her, but she's cute and girly and easily afflicted. Not her usual Amazonian ferociousness.

As much as I might've thought blowjobs to be this kind of submissive thing, there's an immense power in tending to your lover's body. Twice today that thought's arisen. Funny how things turn out.

Such power that Freya, after but a single back-forth of my mouth, shuts her eyes and says, a little too loudly, 'Fuck.'

Then the seed comes, a viscous rope of it, tasting sublimely of the most beautiful being I can imagine. A little sweet, mostly salty, thick like cream, so deliciously hot and fresh from her big productive balls.

Freya, virile as she is gorgeous, utterly loads my mouth. Rope and string and shot and spurt, coating my tongue and forming creamy sticky congregations around my tongue and teeth. Vulgar as it is, the fact that this heavy produce contains her genetic recipe does something for me, transforms an already pleasant experience into something divine. I have to swallow to prevent it coming out my nose, there's just so much of it.

'No,' Freya says, wincing, straining. 'No. Fuck. No!'

And as the orgasm softens she stares at me, frowning. Not at me, it looks like, but at...herself? The situation? The tall beauty sighs, slumping back into the chair. Her body still twitches with pleasure, her cock still drools a heavy stickiness of seed, but Freya's heart and mind are clearly no longer in it.

I kind of wanted to do some sexy thing and show her it, but the mood is gone. If anything, I'm worried about her. Slipping off her cock, cushioning its descent with my hands, I gulp down the bloated mouthful of creamy futa milk and then lick my lips. God, she's delicious.

'Did I do something wrong, Mistress?' I say.

That provokes a little smile, yet even that is a struggle. Freya shakes her head. 'You were perfect, Tom. I just...I was just a fucking quick shot.'

'Wait, that's what's up?'

She folds her arms across her breasts and looks away, mouth twisting. 'Yeah.'

Pouty, sulking, cute and vulnerable Freya is another flavour of my gorgeous girlfriend that I am ever so happy to be experiencing. 'Mistress...Freya.' I reach up and stroke her cheek, cup her lovely jaw, gently urge her to face me. 'I thought you said this wasn't your first blowjob?'

Her eyes wander the ceiling -- anything is better than looking at me right now, it seems -- and then Freya nods. 'In a sense, it is. My first from a boy. I kind of...I obviously psyched myself up a little too much.'

I don't dare laugh or chuckle, but I lean into her belly and kiss the faint definition of her toned stomach. 'I'm flattered that I can provoke such a response,' I say, resting my head against her warmth. 'And you taste fucking good, Mistress.'

She puts a hand atop my head and strokes me. 'Thank you, Tom. I just wish I'd--'

'Dude, I will literally suck your dick as often as you want. I don't care if it takes you a minute or an hour to blow, I'll do it.' I nuzzle her stomach, kiss the beautiful bronze skin. 'I'm yours, okay? You put a collar on me to prove it. I only want to make you happy.'

Freya pushes forwards and topples me easily, dropping down upon me such that her face is inches from my own. Her brilliant blonde hair falls like a curtain around us, a private booth with just myself and my gorgeous Mistress.

'I love you,' she says. 'I mean it. You're the slutty boy of my dreams.'

I reach up and wrap my hands around the back of her neck. 'I love you too, Mistress. You're the deliciously hung dickgirl of mine.'

And then we're kissing, snogging madly, the wonderful weight of her shapely form sandwiching me against the floor. A free hour that was meant to be dedicated to servicing her fantastic cock, but it doesn't seem like it's going to go that way.

Freya rolls off of me and onto her back, using those sublime muscles to pull me atop her. She brings my head down on her chest and we lie there on the floor of a teacher's office, her hand upon my head and stroking me, and occasionally she'll dip down to kiss my scalp, while I hold on in blissful comfort.

I...I can't believe that my head is pretty much jammed between her ridiculous boobs and the only thing passing through my mind is the lovely awareness of being here with her.

Being with Freya. My Mistress.

I'm fucking smitten.