The New Girl Ch. 12

'Tom?'

'Why didn't you tell me that Morgan stole guys you were interested in?'

That Morgan told me she limited her behaviour to the boyfriends of friends and such is another matter, perhaps an attempt at giving some of the truth, but I'll save that for when I deal with her, in turn.

But Mistress simply lets her head fall back against the bench, long ponytail dangling over the headrest. 'I don't know.'

The smell of her sweat is heady, hers, and it's a miracle I don't just gawp at those enormous breasts and that exposed toned belly and her captivating curves as I walk across the floor of the private gym, all these machines surely rivalling the cost of a small home by themselves.

'And that's why you raped me, isn't it? Because as much as she upset you, you internalised her bullshit. As much as you dislike what she's done, you envied her. You still do.'

Freya is definitely better than she used to be. As much as I speak too loudly and act with too much passion, she doesn't lash out. Doesn't hit back. The beautiful bronze-skinned futanari takes a deep breath and sits upright, and sizes me up. Head to toe, a once-over, and then she sighs loudly.

'What do you want me to say, Tom? Because yeah, that's all true. I fucked up. Again, and again. I withheld the truth because at first it wasn't any of your business, and then it seemed too late.'

It's hard to be actually upset with her. I love her, and I know she's not been malicious. Not actively so. The way she speaks, besides, is as earnest as can be. Freya doesn't slump or sulk, but watches me as though I'm her equal. For all that talk of futanaris being superior, at the core of what we are, we're on the same team.

'Is this what all the sharing stuff has been about? Proving yourself? Proving yourself to Morgan?' Only at this utterance does Mistress avert her gaze, cheeks reddening. I move closer, up to the foot of the bench, breathing in the pleasing scent of her sweat. 'Freya, I just want to know.'

'She always got what she wanted. She was always so hot, and so confident.' The blonde beauty shakes her head, long ponytail swaying, bound up with a scrunchie. 'All those guys I liked, and I lost them to her.' Freya smirks, chuckles grimly. When she turns to me, there's the faintest wetness to her brilliant blue eyes. 'She didn't even want them, Tom. Just wanted to teach me a lesson. Just wanted to prove a point. I know she's not the same as she was, but I thought I'd...I thought I'd use you to hurt her.'

'Dangle me like a carrot? Take me away whenever you wanted?'

Mistress smiles sadly. 'Yep. Which isn't to say -- and please don't think otherwise -- that I don't utterly love you, but hurting her felt more pressing. You're so smitten with me, so loyal, I didn't think there was a risk.' She passingly grinds her teeth. 'But now I've hurt us, haven't I?'

She looks to be on the brink of tears, but I'm there in a heartbeat. There, at her side, she this tall and dominant Amazonian and me her cumslut plaything lover, and yet I'm the one who cups her head and pulls her against my chest. I'm the one who strokes her hair, ignores the sweaty stickiness, cutting to the importance of things.

'I love you, Mistress,' I say, brushing her cheek. 'But from now on, you need to tell me everything. Spill all. Or I'll leave, and won't look back. That's a line I'm drawing in the sand.'

Freya kisses my chest, nuzzles against me. 'No pulling punches, huh?'

'Dude, you have so much power over me. I submit to you. If you're not being honest, how is this going to work?'

She only snuggles closer. 'Okay. From now on, always. I'll explain it all, explain all my stupid decisions. Please stay. Please love me.'

'I do, and always will,' I say, getting my hands around her head. 'But if we're this pairing, mistress and slut, we do all this together going forwards, okay? This situation with Morgan needs resolving, so let's fix it. I like your idea. I want her to be yours. But I want you to keep sharing me, all the same, because I like it. I like you the most, but you can't take back what you've given.'

Freya nods. 'Yeah. I get that. I trust you, and...honestly, if I hadn't, we might not be plotting to get Morgan as ours, right?'

'Ours?'

She tilts her head back, affixing me with those brilliant blues. 'Well, isn't that the point? You want to serve us both, but I need Morgan under my thumb for that to be genuine. She'd be yours, and mine. Ours.'

'I like it. A lot.'

Mistress kisses my chest again. 'Good. I'll tell you everything, but I need to finish this set and shower. And eat something, shit.'

'No, you don't.'

'Excuse me?'

I dip down and squeeze her chest, one breast and then the other, slowly dropping to my knees. 'I'm going to suck on your sweaty tits,' I say, taking unreasonable pleasure in her annoyance. 'Then I'm going to suck your dick, and you're going to cum in my mouth, and I'm going to swallow every drop of your delicious, superior, Venyabildt genes.'

'Says who?'

'Says your sub, who you owe so much to.' I smirk at her, up at her, and Mistress's face suggests an inner struggle. To consent is to let me have my own way, but to deny is to deny herself. 'I'm being bratty, and demanding, so you'd better sort me out. Hadn't you, Mistress?'

'Tom, seriously, I'm sweaty as fuck. I haven't showered since yesterday.'

The idea of her fat musky cock, deliciously rich in her oils and residues, is enough to make me salivate. 'You really think that's going to put me off?'

Freya chews on her bottom lip. 'You're really dirty, you know that?'

'And you're a quick-shot, but I love you all the same.'

She goes for my throat, both hands taking a firm hold of my jaw. God, she's strong. Those muscles bulge beautifully, definition obvious where she applies her vigour. We topple as one as she shifts her mass, falling atop me, hot and sweaty and sticky and fucking glorious. Drop-dead gorgeous, my bronze blonde goddess, the hunger in her eyes untameable and wild as she lurches for my mouth, the sweat on her upper lip pleasantly salty, tasting subtly of her. Uniquely and distinctly of Freya Venyabildt, the most beautiful woman in the world.

Mwah. Smooch.

'Mhm. Mhaah.'

She moans into my mouth, and I into hers, hungers overwhelming. Mistress's tongue finds mine, tangles with it, tames it. I've been naughty, spoken above my station, and now I'm going to be punished. Only the punishment is just what I want, just what I need. Her love, in the most ravenous form imaginable. To play rough, to be roughly played with, and to adore every fucking second of it.

Smooch. Smack.

Freya pins me against the floor by my shoulders, her weight impressive, her strength more so. Straddling my belly she grinds her hips against me, rubs that fat futanari shape across my gut, suggestive and salacious, shiver-inducing. Not fully hard, but quickly getting there. The beautiful bronze-skinned blonde retreats from our kissing, licking her lips of the glaze of mutual spit.

'You taste good, slut,' Mistress says, smiling contentedly as she sits upright. 'And given that you're such a needy, dutiful pet, I think I can reward you, just this once...'

Freya digs her fingers into the underside of her heavy-duty sports bra, preparing to free one of the finest sets of breasts in all the world. Her skin glistens delightfully, moulding to the shape of her hands as she slowly but surely pulls upwards, putting on a perverse performance, making my tit-starved brain wait as long as possible to bask in the beauty of her bare boobs.

'Thank you, Mistress. I'm so, so grateful.'

Mistress pauses, the underside of her enormous twins barely visibly. 'Oh, I know, cumslut. It's writ on your silly face. What a lucky little thing you are, to belong to me.'

I lick my lips as the feast of flesh grows, inch by inch, moment by moment. When the wide smooth halos of her titanic titties come onto the scene, I know it won't be long until I'm tasting her skin. Nursing on her beautiful body, worshipping her in a different guise than usual, but worshipping all the same.

The mammoth mammaries go schthup where they fall and slap against her chest, inertia surpassed and gravity taking hold of the generous double G-cups. Mistress's beautiful breasts glisten gloriously, jiggling about as their heaviness comes slowly to rest. Again, she's gotten so much better at the dominant side of things. No blushing, not even a hint of vulnerability, despite the fact that I'm ogling her.

Despite the fact that I'm licking my lips and looking like a complete cretin.

'Mistress...'

Freya giggles sweetly, and cups the back of my head, gently urging me upwards. 'Suckle. Clean them of sweat, you dirty slut.'

Yes, yes, oh God, yes! 'Thank you, Mistress. Thank you for this opportunity.'

She simply rolls her brilliant blue eyes. 'Less talking, more cleaning.'

I don't need to be told twice. Getting my hands on the warm welcoming womanliness of her hips, I lift myself upwards, her superior height making it easy to get my face smothered in the sticky sweatiness of her chest. Mistress guides me, firmer and more forceful as I get closer to the moment of impact, whereupon she jams my head right into her cleavage.

'Motorboat me, bitch. Get that face all stinking of me.'

'Mhm-hm!'

Happily, eagerly. Schthup, schthup, schthup. Her mountainous mammaries smack against my face, bounce and jiggle, ever so huge and heavy, ever so cushioning and soft. Her skin is silken if sticky, but her boobs themselves are like warm pillows, yielding and moulding about my face, engulfing me in their fragrant fullness. Smooch. Mwah. I kiss, and kiss, and kiss again, worshipping and adoring my favourite breasts in all the world, the body of my favourite person, though perhaps not quite my favourite part of her. That part, instead, is poking at my belly with pulsation prominence, clearly in need of attention. But it'll have to wait, for a few moments more.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

Schthup-mwah, schthup-smooch, schthup-smack.

Freya strokes my hair as I twist my head about and smooch her, sandwiched as I am between those heavenly hills. She giggles and sighs sweetly, warmly affectionate and yet completely in control. Giving me this honour, this luxury, that we both so desire. A celebration of sorts, for a new leaf, turned over. The first sordid encounter to occur with a plan in mind, with our secrets laid bare.

'Suckle,' Mistress says, cupping her right tit. 'Enjoy yourself, you naughty boy.'

I don't get time to thank her, because her urging, and my own lust, is too great to resist. Dragging my tongue across her skin, loading my mouth with the salty womanliness of her gorgeous flesh, quickly leads to the meeting of lips and a rigid nipple, the lustrousness of her areola pleasing against me.

Schlep. Mlap. Slurp.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

'Good boy,' Mistress says, patting my head. 'I fucking--aah--love that. We definitely don't do enough with my boobs.'

I shake my head, but don't stop for a second. 'Mhm.'

Schlap. Mlep.

To have a faceful of fantastically fat futanari bosom is a heavenly reward, especially given the precariousness of taking some initiative with my domme. For setting the record straight, and demanding what I deserve, it nonetheless feels appropriate. And Freya, moaning and shuddering atop me, straddling me, her enormous erection poking fiercely at my gut, seems to be in a state of as much lascivious luxury as myself. Though she'll never orgasm from something as mundane as having her would-be milk-makers nursed on, Mistress is still particularly sensitive. Her nipples, iron-firm points of pleasantness, respond to every lap and lick, the occasional -- naughty -- teasing of my teeth, and seem to utterly adore being sucked upon with all the intensity I'd apply to her dick.

'Ooh. Tom.'

I break away for a moment, and kiss her right breast. Mwah. 'Slut,' I say, correcting her. 'I'm your slut, Mistress. It says so around my neck.'

Smooch. She kisses the top of my head. 'I love you, slut. I'm so sorry for being shitty with the truth.'

Sliding my hands around her lower back, to lock about her hips, I rest against her breasts, spit and sweat and stickiness completely irrelevant. We'll just shower together, afterwards. 'I don't care so long as you don't do it again, okay? So long as we're past that stupid shit, you're completely forgiven. You made a mistake.'

'I made several. Again, and again.'

Mwah. I kiss her chest, glance up at her. 'So? You're human. Tall and clever and hot as hell, but still human. It's like you said way back when. Just because your financial conditions have been easy, doesn't mean it all has been. Not with the weirdness your family's faced from Genevieve.'

Mistress leans forwards, rubbing her nose against my forehead. Her breath is sweet as syrup, her eyes twitching faintly, wet and lively. 'What did I do to deserve you, Tom? Why did you stay, after I hurt you so much?'

'I had a thing for you, obviously? But...I don't know how to phrase it without it sounding weird.'

'Try? For me?'

I shrug. 'After what you did, after what Mr Bulger did to me...it was clear you'd made a mistake. And maybe it's stupid to forgive that kind of mistake, but I did. I don't regret that I did. Nobody's ever loved me like you do. And you clearly did fuck up, because look at you now! Look at us. I have to remind you, sometimes, to call me "slut".' I chuckle, and Mistress's mask slips. She blushes, and glances to the side. 'You're ever so cute, Freya. Ever so beautiful. Ever so cool.'

The way she pushes me back surprises me, but it's not really violent. A momentary assertion of strength, giving her a moment to pull herself free. 'I want to...want to see if today's better,' she says, climbing to her feet. 'To see if Morgan's words have any wisdom to them.'

I suck in a sharp breath as she knocks down her shorts, freeing the bronze beast beneath them. Freya kicks away the discarded pair, in the process putting a tantalising trembling jiggle to the vast and virile pole, as beautifully tan as the rest of her, veiny and thickly fat, capped in a glorious shrouded crown.

She turns to face me and takes a step back towards the workout bench, blonde ponytail swaying, big balls wobbling about as she sits herself down, the heavy pair dangling over the edge of the bench.

'It really hurt, when I had to first confront the idea that Morgan was better.' Mistress takes up her lascivious length and lifts it upright, slowly strokes it. Her nuts shudder, and her face reddens. 'She's completely right, when it comes to you. God, Tom, nothing's sexier than the idea of you eating my genes. Worshipping me like I'm your queen, your goddess, and using your lovely mouth to take care of my most demanding part. Working to cover your tastebuds in my semen.'

Even without being told, I begin to crawl over. To crawl, because it's most fitting. To crawl, because I'm her pet, her toy, and this is an honour, this is exactly what I want from her, as much as possible, because it's so damn intimate and she sees it the same as I do.

'You are my queen,' I say, salivating. 'You are my goddess.'

The smell of her crotch is sublimely thick, tantalising, as I get close enough to properly inhale it. Musky, sexual, virile. God, I'm such a cumslut, such a cocksucking whore for these futanari goddesses. Such a lucky fucker. And slowly but surely Freya wanks herself, creating this steady fap, fap, fap as her meat makes music in that elegant hand, big balls wobbling and shuddering appetisingly.

'They're dirty,' she says, glancing down at me, dipping her eyes lower in suggestion. 'But that doesn't bother you, does it?'

'No, Mistress. Not at all.'

She cocks her head to the side. 'Go on, slut. Worship your queen.'

I don't even use my hands. Those I pass beneath her parted legs, to latch onto the bench for support, but it's all in the mouth. All about my slutty starved mouth. The heat of her body growing thicker, the opulence of her odours so rich and titillating, and I can't hold back.

Schlup. Slurp.

'Ugh. Good boy. Work for that creamy--mhm--reward.'

'Mumph. Mhm-hm.'

I manage to get the left lump inside my lips without much effort, well-versed as I now am in this most wonderful of deeds. Her scrotal skin is silken, sticky with sweat, salty to the taste and deliciously dirty, pungent, suggestive of tremendous power lurking in her loins. This genetically superior specimen of a gorgeous girl, hung as she is like a donkey, deserves nothing less than this kind of worship. This adoration exemplified by oral sex.

Schlep. Schlurp.

And God, her balls are fat and tasty. Warm and dense in my mouth, the weird contrast of soft skin and firm bollock, all of it so responsive to my slutty suction and the teasing of my tongue. It's wonderful in and of itself, but today...today's special.

Because Mistress pats my head, and while she moans, while she trembles, she seems distinctly more in control. Less out of her depth.

'Mhm. Mumph.'

Even when I change over to the other huge hanger, each of her nuts large to the point that if they were any larger I'd not be able to nurse on them, she maintains her coolness. Just plays with my hair, gently runs her fingers across my scalp.

'Good boy,' Mistress says, sweet as syrup. 'Mhm. Clean those balls for me, slut. Make that dirty mouth as filthy as can be, just for me. Just for--aah--Mistress.'

Her wanking has ceased, leaving only the messy sounds of my lurid lips, smacking and sucking, the carnal chorus of our union. Still, she holds her proud prick upright, away from me, a promise of reward when the moment is right. When she decides that I'm deserving of a mouthful of her thick futa milk.

'Mhm. Mhm-hm.'

Schlap. Schlurp. Smack.

My mouth makes a sweet sound as I pull free of one testicle, and go to the other again. Seal broken forcibly, the wetness echoes through the stillness of the gym, deliciously degrading. That I can make such loud sloppy noises, all in servile devotion to this divine dominatrix, tickles those same sordid parts of me that want nothing more than to belong to Freya Venyabildt.

'Slut,' Mistress says, giving me pause. 'This is wonderful, but I really do need to eat. You've done enough, washing those sweaty things. Tilt your head back. Let me reward you for your efforts.'

I must seem a dog, wagging its tail at the chance to get a bone. Instantly I'm free of her big beautiful balls, face stinking of her. Leaning back on my haunches, turning my gaze up to her rigid rod, I'm ready for the main event. All the more so as she pulls back her foreskin, freeing the glistening gooiness of that gloriously gorgeous glans. The plump pinkness that crowns her cock, smelling divine, richly of her delicious dick, waggles side to side above my head as she teases me with a hand.

'Mistress, what are you doing? I thought you said--'

Shlack.

Freya brings her weapon down, its weight wicked, the fat helmet of her heavenly hugeness leaving a messy kiss on my forehead. Schlack. She lifts it up, brings it down. Schlack. And again, pausing for a long moment after the third instance, leaving me with a trinity of sticky smooches across my face. Though the scent is incredible...

'Who the hell do you think you are, cumslut? Telling me what we're going to do?' Schlack. 'I will tell you what the game is. And today, your reward is this: you're going to clean my length with your tongue, and perhaps if you're lucky, later today -- if you do a good job -- I might let you suck me properly, with Morgan's assistance.' Schlack. 'Is that understood, slut?'

Fuck, she leaves me blushing. Leaves me caught up in my own trap. There I was, thinking myself clever, and she's outsmarted me. Doubly so, because God, it feels weirdly good to be denied. To have washed the sweat off of her sagging nuts, only to be disallowed the deliciousness of her creamy cum.