The New Girl Ch. 13

***All characters presented in this story are at least 18 years of age***

Freya leaves me with a particularly bothersome erection, made worse for the fact that all of this oppressive lust is directed at her mischievous self.

Fuck, I can still smell her delicious dick on my face. The first time ever that she seems to actually manage some degree of restrain during one of my blowjobs, and she goes and twists the whole thing about to make a mockery of me. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

I am not losing that load to Morgan. Sharing, well, that seems a given, because Mistress is on the warpath towards genuine self-affirmation, but I've done so much work. Craved the beautiful bronze-skinned blonde every waking moment of my days since we met, and now this? Teasing torment. And Jesus Christ, she's so absurdly alluring when she acts like this.

While Freya showers, I go seeking her sister. Cum on the brain, but that of a specific Venyabildt, as much as the gorgeous goth herself possesses a particularly pleasant flavour of penile produce. I go to her room, just down the landing hallway from mine and Mistress's, but there's no answer. I try the handle, and it's locked.

'Is there something you need me for?' Morgan says, appearing in our doorway, in a black dress and some black metal t-shirt which nonetheless highlights her excessively ample breasts. She smiles, lips ruby rimmed with black, the moment I turn to face her. 'You look awfully flustered, sweet Tom. Can I help you?'

'We need to talk,' I say, marching in her direction, passing through the doorway beside her. Walking into the middle of mine and Freya's room, before the big TV, I take a big inhale and soothe myself. 'I...this is going to sound a bit dirty, but it's serious.'

'Dirty and serious are my favourite pastimes.' The vampiric beauty comes up behind me and takes hold of my shoulders, slowly massaging them. 'So tense, sweet Tom. What's gotten you all worked up?'

I sigh loudly, shake my head. 'I was so close to giving Freya a blowjob to completion, and then she pulled away. To...well, to punish me.'

Fuck, I'm surprised she doesn't just burst into laughter. Morgan continues to tease at my upper back, her hands magical in their motions. Slow and steady circles, with fingers tipped in long, threatening nails of obsidian black. The older sister's smells, her dark fruitiness and subtle sensuality, provoke a slight degree of salivation. My brain does, of course, associate her with the act of passionate cock worship and the consumption of jism.

'She's learning, it sounds like. You weren't happy that she denied you?'

'I mean, it was hot, but it was something else she added. Something involving you.'

'Oh? Do tell.'

'I...need to ask a favour.'

Instinct has my back arch as the gothic futanari slides her taloned hands across the fronts of my shoulders and pulls me against the front of her body, those truly tremendous tits especially warm and wonderful against my spine. Beneath her steady massaging I tremble, shiver like a fool, caught up in the captivating carnality of the eldest Venyabildt daughter.

'Favours are for those that are owed them, sweet Tom. Last I checked, you gulped down my load out of free will, without any notion of repayment,' Morgan says, teasing at my chest with a sharp nail. 'Even that blowjob I promised you doesn't really count, given that it'll be on my terms. And I'm hardly going to trade-in that game for something of doubtlessly lesser value.'

'You don't even know what I want just yet,' I say, turning my head to the side and meeting her pale and perfect gaze. 'Freya...she said that she's going to feed you the load I worked up. And...and well I wondered if...if we could maybe share?'

Morgan slips the tip of her tongue out and wets the inner rims of her lips, watching me with illicit intent. Her mouth forms a particularly smug kind of smirk, a dirtily delicious look that at once arouses and intimidates. As much as I am, more and more, becoming convinced of the gorgeous goth's innocence when it comes to the worst worries Mistress once held, she's nonetheless far scarier than even her father.

'I'll share, and in fact, I'll openly encourage Blondie to incorporate you into our blowjob sessions, but you have to do something for me in return. And no, it's not what you think, though it does involve the oral sex that we both so adore.'

Whatever Morgan's thinking up, it has so powerful an effect on her lusts that her cock is already poking at my backside in anticipation. Her fat-headed futanari endowment lifts her skirt and presses a noticeable heat against me, as well as a heavy rhythmic pulsation that reverberates through her shaft. The obvious thing, the thing that I'd happily repeat again and again -- especially with Mistress feeling less threatened -- must hardly hold a candle to whatever she's dreaming of.

'What do you want, then?'

Morgan leans close, resting her chin against my shoulder. Smooch. She kisses my cheek and breaths hotly against my ear, reaching up to cup my jaw from below. 'I want a double blowjob,' she says. 'I want my little sister to swallow down a batch of my seed, sweet Tom. And in return, you'll never be left out of our sessions. Deal?'

I shake my head. What a fucking lunatic thought. How is anyone going to get Freya sucking dick, let alone the person she's so set on dominating?!

'I can't tell her to do that,' I say. 'Mistress isn't going to just go back on her domme progress for my sake, Morgan.'

The gorgeous goth chuckles, a rich and risqué sound. So effortlessly sexual, just like her sister, but dramatically more experienced in this theatre of titillation. 'We'll convince her, Tom, but I need your support to do so. You offer that support, you help me sway Blondie into blowing me, and even if it doesn't work today, I'll share with you. Simple as that.'

What a mad proposition. To do this thing, all for the sake of enjoying my Mistress and the thick virility of her balls, but in return I have to somehow manage to help Morgan sway her into doing something that seems, in the grand scheme of things, the last thing she'll ever pursue? What the hell am I meant to do here?

'That's impossible. And fuck, what if she thinks I'm scheming against her?'

Morgan presses a hand upon my belly, pushes her big creamy breasts against the back of my head. 'She won't, because you're not. Blondie might think that blowjobs are some intrinsic act of submission, but surely I've shown by now that such isn't so,' Morgan says, speaking lusty and low against my ear. Her breath is sweet, fruity, despite the darkness of her appearance. 'Or do you think I am, at core, some little slut in need of a master?'

It's hard to think that while she's in full control of things, dominating me here without being such a physical powerhouse as her sister is. And her words, too, aren't exactly far from the truth. Even in the midst of loading her mouth with Freya's cum, Morgan seemed no less her usual and somewhat terrifying self.

'No, but...Mistress doesn't see it that way.'

'Which is why you're going to help me change her mind.' Smooch. Morgan kisses my cheek, inhales my smells in a way that provokes a distinct disturbance in my groin. 'All I want is to open Blondie's eyes to the pleasure of switching things up, and abandoning her outdated notions of master and slave with reference to her equals. All I want is to drop one of my loads -- and you know their quality first-hand -- right across her tastebuds.' The gorgeous goth chuckles, the sound utterly oozing perversion. 'And think about it on your end, Tom. If Freya's open to sucking me off, and I show her just how I intend to go about blowing you...you might find a new pleasure in being made to suffer from those lips you so adore.'

'You said...said that futanaris aren't meant to submit to men.'

'I did, and I mean it. We'll never be yours to command,' Morgan says. That hand on my stomach dips lower, takes firm hold of my manhood. 'But picture this, if you'd be so kind: you, sitting on a chair beside my beanbag, tied up and unable to do anything but squeal and beg.' As she speaks, as my head creates the image, my cock aches all the fiercer. 'Every now and then I might want to enjoy myself by sucking your dick, but it'll be on my terms. Perhaps it'll take an hour. Perhaps it's going to take half the day. Because every time I think you're going to pop -- and you know, as well, how talented I am with my lips -- I'll get back to my game, and forget all about you. And all the begging in the world won't cause me to empty those balls any faster, much as we both want, on some level, to see you cum.'

'Ugh.'

I shiver, and groan, as she begins to stroke me through my trousers. 'Sounds wonderful, doesn't it?'

'Y-eah. It does.'

Mwah. Morgan kisses my neck, continuing to tug on me. 'Now imagine Blondie doing the same. Or both of us, at once. Playing one of our games, inventing rules with which to torment you. Working out a single load from those handsome nuts of yours over hours, two beautiful Venyabildts torturing that pretty prick until you cum utter buckets in one of our mouths...'

Freya, thankfully, saves me. Fuck, it'd be the most embarrassing thing in the world to cum just from her touching the shape of my shaft from outside of my clothes.

'What are you two up to?' Mistress says, stepping into the room. Showered, and in a bathrobe, her natural beauty presents an ever-alluring contrast to her sister's made-up majesty. 'Oh. Did Tom come up to beg you to let him share that load of mine he's worked so hard for?' She chuckles, playfully cruel, and rolls her brilliant blue eyes. 'Well, Morgan? Did you agree?'

'Unfortunately not,' Morgan says, releasing me at last. 'He sadly has so little to offer me, beyond sucking my cock again. And we both know that's not a thing to be traded for.'

Well, not the way around which she's referring to, clearly. It's odd how I'm struck by a faint awkwardness, turning to Mistress with my hands covering the prominence in my trousers induced by the machinations of her sister. Freya only grins, lust alive and well in her eyes, and she practically undresses me with a gaze.

'Hands away, slut,' Mistress says, wetting her lips. 'Don't hide your shame from me, Tom.'

My cock, of course, only swells all the fiercer with her talking to me like that. And, at the same time, any hope of fulfilling Morgan's deal seems that much more distant. Freya Venyabildt ogles me like meat, part of the performance -- especially dialled up in the presence of her sister -- and seems ever so much clearer in terms of the person she's seeking to become. God, she's sex on legs without being so effortlessly in control, but now I'm struck with some hint of that same vibe I get from Morgan, that low-grade fearful arousal that stems from being at the mercy of this wonderfully wicked woman.

'Are you ready for today's practice?' Morgan says, folding her arms beneath her massive milky-white breasts. 'It must be having quite the positive result already, given what sweet Tom told me in the midst of his begging.'

Mistress laughs, grins gorgeously. 'Well, I've always been a fast learner. Your little tricks work wonders.' Freya shuts the door and pulls at the cord of the bathrobe, happily slipping out of it. 'Where do you want me, Morgan? Tom's made sure that I've got a particularly heavy load, just for lucky old you.'

Morgan wets her lips, and reaches for me without looking. She gives my cock a firm squeezing, paying especial attention to the swollen tip. 'I wanted to suggest a game of sorts, actually. Something to make this a little more interesting, given that you're progressing so well.'

Freya shrugs her shoulders and goes to the sofa, wicked womanliness jiggling generously as she moves. She's a feast for the eyes, in motion. Those big breasts and curvaceous hips pair with her plump firm buttocks, all of it complemented by her massive member swinging freely between her thighs, large loins bouncing about. Bronze and beautiful, Mistress cups my face and strokes my jaw as she passes by, winking as she seats herself in the very centre of the sofa before her wall-mounted TV.

'I suppose that could be a fun way to mix things up, so long as you're still going to suck me off,' Mistress says, sighing. 'I certainly wouldn't want Tom to think he's worked me up for nothing.'

The gorgeous goth releases me, giving me a guiding push towards the shelf beneath the television. 'Get us the controllers, sweet Tom. We'll play Street Fighter.'

Freya clicks her teeth. 'I'm no good at it. Call of Duty has split-screen, so we'll play that instead.'

The look Morgan gives me is tantamount to mischief personified. 'Fine. Best of three. And what do you want if you win?'

'When, dear sister.' Freya exaggerates her smile as Morgan sits down beside her. 'I want...I want you to be my cocksucker for a whole week, and not for training purposes.'

The elder Venyabildt chuckles softly. 'A whole week? Is the hope that I'll form a habit?'

It's Freya who gives me the glance of cunning this time. 'Perhaps. And what is it that you want, if you win?'

I pick up the controllers and turn back to the beautiful sisters just in time to witness their locked gaze, lust writ large on either perfect face. The sexual tension is obvious, that salacious spark burning bright in both pairs of blues. Freya wants to dominate her big sister, in some act of vengeance for past meddling. Morgan, however, wants to introduce her little sister to a world of pleasures outside of her comfort zone.

Each takes a controller from me without paying me any real notice, and I sit myself down on the opposite side of Freya just as Morgan wets her lips and says, with the dirtiest smile on her crimson-black lips, 'I want you to give me a blowjob, Blondie. To completion. Just the one will do, however. I'm not quite so greedy as you are.'

The words seem to take a while to register, because for a long moment Mistress simply stares at her sister, facing away from me so that I can't get a good look at the contortions of her face. She does this little gasp-chuckle, and then turns away from Morgan, towards the screen.

'Pick something else,' Freya says, turning on her controller and getting the Playstation's home screen up. 'I won't do that.'

'I thought you were certain to win this? Besides, it's not much to ask. I've sucked you off, after all. I even let you cum in my mouth.'

Mistress's dominant visage falters faintly, her cheeks growing fractionally flush. 'That's different. Pick something else.'

'It's not in the least,' Morgan says. She shuffles up beside her younger sister, so that their thighs are brushing together. Creamy pale flesh against tan bronze, each voluptuous and vividly enticing. 'Do you really think my interest here is dominating you?'

Music starts playing as the CoD menu screen comes up on the TV. Mistress hurriedly flicks through the options, getting a two-player game set up. A deathmatch, settings as minimalistic as possible, on a straightforward map. All for the sake of a brief tallying up of kills, to ensure a clear victor.

'Just play the game, Morgan.'

'So you'll blow me if you lose?'

Freya sighs. 'I'm not going to--'

'Please, Mistress,' I say, quickly interjecting. 'You shouldn't be worried. I believe in you, I know that you'll win.' Freya glances my way, lips pursed. Not unhappy with me, as such. In some weird way, not all that unhappy. 'It's going to be all the sweeter to beat Morgan fairly, right? Especially if she really wants to win herself.'

'Why do you care?'

I wet my lips. 'You can...add something to your side of the request, right?'

'She can,' Morgan says. Her smirk changes, infinitesimally, when her sister finds it. 'Try me, Blondie.'

Mistress turns back to me. 'What do you want, slut?'

'A blowjob a day, from Morgan. If you win.'

The gorgeous goth rolls her pale eyes and snorts. 'You're definitely going to have put a blowjob up in return to get that out of me.'

Freya groans. 'Tom...'

I lean close, speaking softly into her ear. 'I want to share that load in your balls with Morgan, and she asked me to back her up here,' I say, practically kissing her skin. 'I've been naughty, Mistress, and you should punish me for even hearing her schemes, but...if you win this way, Morgan will be submitting to both of us.'

The devilishly delicious look which crosses Freya's face is a thing of peerless beauty, fully restoring all reserves of assertiveness. 'You really are fucking naughty,' Mistress says, aloud, passingly chewing on her lower lip. 'Fine. To humiliate you, Morrigan, I'm going to make you suck Tom's cock for the week. On his terms, as well. Real, submissive blowjobs, for both of us. Maybe even at the same time.'

The vampiric beauty sighs sweetly. 'I can handle that, Blondie. Anything for the chance of seeing the look on that pretty face when I drop a load across your tastebuds.'

Mistress glares sidelong at her sister, and the game begins. I'm struck by the low worry that Freya might lose her cool if she actually gets beaten here, but it's not like I've lied, is it? I told her the truth, told her Morgan's plot...that's got to be worth some good-boy points, if nothing else. And clearly, my beautiful blonde lover is happy enough to risk it. Right...?

'You're weird, and you've got things the wrong way round,' Freya says, rolling her eyes. She gets off to a strong start, so far as I can tell. Honestly, shooters aren't really my jam, but if anyone's good at them, it's Mistress. 'My loads, your mouth. You made that rule, not me.'

Morgan says nothing. She seems to be avoiding Freya, keeping as far away from her as possible given the confines of the fairly small, fairly straightforward map. But when the two at last spot one another, it's not Mistress who comes out on top.

'Lucky shot.'

Again, the goth is silent. That "lucky shot" seems to keep happening. It's not that Freya's not good, but Morgan seems that much better. Headshot after headshot, and when Mistress starts to blush, to faintly lose her cool, she mixes up her choice of weapons and tries to copy her big sister, but to no avail. Lucky shot. Lucky shot. Lucky shot.

'You're joking,' Mistress says, lip starting to quiver. 'No way am I sucking your dick.'

Morgan, finally, laughs. A lusty little thing. 'You don't have to do it alone. Sweet Tom can teach you how I like to be treated.'

To my great surprise, Freya doesn't lash out. She gets a kill or three, but overall, Morgan wins. The gothic pseudo-succubus of a sister comes out on top, resoundingly so. Mistress doesn't even throw the controller in a rage, or raise her voice.

'Are you serious? You're actually going to make me do this?'

The older Venyabildt shrugs. 'I'm not going to make you do anything, Blondie. But you did make the bet, and if I can't trust you to honour it, there's no way I'm helping you out with this domme training business.'

Freya actually looks my way, not with suspicion or disdain, but with a kind of firm-lipped pleading. Her cheeks are slightly flush, and her expression tells me all that I need to know. That one way or another, she's looking for my input. And realistically, what can I say? I both want Morgan to let me share Mistress's load with her, and I want -- I realise, rather badly -- to see Freya with her big sister's big cock in her mouth.

'What if Morgan's right?' I say. The words seem to soothe her. Freya's eyes flutter and her cheeks grow redder. 'I'm just saying, it's not necessarily submissive.'

'I don't think any futanari should submit to another,' Morgan says. 'I don't want you as a pet, Blondie. But I do want to introduce you to something that, I think, you'll very much enjoy. Something that, I think, might give you a powerful appreciation for what I, and sweet Tom, both love giving to you.'