The New Girl Ch. 14

I'm not sure quite how to process things, in the aftermath of the day's perfection.

It did happen. Mistress is resting her head against one shoulder, and Morgan on the other, their breathing relaxed and slow on account of the powerful orgasms each of them has so recently enjoyed. A coalescence of warmth, of sweetness, their beauty unmatched beyond the confines of the Venyabildt Estate and their sensuality a thing to die for. The vampiric beauty's scents of dark fruits and musky femininity -- the latter flavour they both share -- mingles with the bronze-skinned blonde's tell-tale bubble-gum, a heady mixture.

Morgan is the livelier of the two, gently stroking my inner thigh, teasing at my yet-erect cock. She brushes against it, sometimes shifts her head up to look me in the eyes, studying my thoughts with great eagerness. The gothic goddess smiles at me, warmth and wickedness, but says nothing.

Mistress and I had a plan, but I don't know where it sits now. Freya swallowed her sister's semen. She sucked her off, helped me do so, and swallowed. Just thinking about it, just recalling the moment it came true, leaves my dick straining all the fiercer. All the fiercer, just for Morgan to flick it or otherwise prod or poke with petty playfulness.

And now the beautiful blonde rests against me, not asleep but wide awake, yet caught up in her thoughts as she stares ahead at the dimming line of the sunset against the powered-off flatscreen TV ahead of us. From time to time I squeeze her hip and she nuzzles against me, but says nothing.

Yet it doesn't feel like my place to speak, and the silence isn't unpleasant. It's a big jump for Mistress, after all. A dramatic shift from what she made so clear, into the territory of something she time and again implied was wrong or vile or otherwise undesirable.

'I really enjoyed that,' Freya says, at length, at last. The tension, imagined or real, fades. 'Your cock's almost as great as mine, Morgan.'

The older Venyabildt giggles. 'Almost will do,' she says. 'Is that to say you'll do it again?'

'Maybe. I think we need to talk about what this is going to look like, going forwards. Because if I'm sharing Tom with you, I don't want you getting the wrong idea about how things are.'

'Relationships do tend to need discussing, yes.' Morgan releases me and straightens up, rolling her shoulders and stretching a little. Her immensely plump breasts bounce about, and I lose myself in the fantastic physics of the wobbling white wonders. 'I want full access to Tom. But equally, I don't want to go back to not playing with you, Blondie. I love you very much, as a sister and more than.'

Mistress's cheeks redden, and while some of that is surely awkwardness, there's a deep appreciation for her sister's words there as well. This is, as far as I know, the closest they've ever been. Years of difficulties between them, familial concerns, and now there's this. Freya, partaking of the same Venyabildt vulgarity as her big sister, and realising that she likes it.

'I want to be your Mistress,' Freya says, turning sharply to look past me, to meet her sister's frigid blue gaze. 'I want you to submit to me, and when in that role, to wear a collar. And I want--'

'Sweet Tom is a fine thing, Blondie, but you haven't forgotten what I said already, have you?'

Mistress softly grinds her teeth, and shakes her head. 'I know it won't be real, like it is with Tom.' She glances at me side-on, wetting her lips. Love and lust combine in those beautiful blue eyes, intense and intoxicating. The look of someone who adores me but, as a caveat, believes me to be not quite her equal. It's...a complicated thing. Nice, and yet I imagine many would find it nasty. 'I don't expect you to ever think of yourself like Tom is able to, but I'm not going to lie to you. I'm not sure I can put into words how badly I want this.'

Morrigan leans into me, and her hot breath breezes luxuriously past my ear. Her lips come within an inch of contact, their warmth a radiant presence. A chill runs down my back, and I gulp air, hesitant, caught between both of them, some state of erotic Elysium. I can't pull my gaze away from Freya's eyes, nor can I escape Morgan's touch. She firms up her grip on my inner thigh, casually flicking at my helmet with her pinkie finger.

'If we're trading truths and secrets, then here's mine,' Morgan says, brushing her lips against my ear. 'There is a tremendous amount of pleasure in taking Tom's role. There's a very good reason he submits to us, but he's lucky to be a man. He can submit, because we're his betters, as you and I well know.'

Mistress nods. 'I'm not saying I'm your better, Morgan. I...'

It's unlike Freya to be at a loss for words. Like her sister, like her parents, she's wonderful with her wit, with her language. The brain that ticks over behind those superb eyes is a thing of glory, suiting her so well. On casual appearance, she might seem some tan blonde bimbo, even some brainless gym bunny, but that's simply Mistress's misleading aesthetic. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if she cultivates that look for good reason. There's such power, in surprise and subterfuge.

'Freya.' Morrigan's voice comes soft, and she slips her hand away from my thigh and delivers it gently to her little sister's face. Mistress accepts her touch, blushingly leans into those pale fingers and their dark talons. 'As I was saying, Tom is lucky. You and I, who could we possibly submit to? Daddy-dearest? I love her dearly, body and all, but I can't pretend there's not an innate imbalance there.' The gorgeous goth strokes her sister's cheeks, with a thumb and forefinger, and rubs her lips against the side of my face. 'You and I, we're true equals. You're the only person in all the world I can play this game with, but it has a catch. If I am to sate this fantasy of yours, then you need to sate my own.'

Mistress flicks her gaze between me and Morgan, then averts it entirely of us both. 'You want me to call you Mistress, as well. An act for an act.'

The black-haired beauty nods. 'I do. I admit, I'm rather captivated by how you treat Sweet Tom, and I've longed for a great while to explore my submissive side, yet have always lacked a suitable partner. You're that partner, Blondie. I am happy to make this exchange.'

Freya's cheeks grow steadily redder as her sister speaks, her blushing beautiful. If my cock wasn't struggling enough as is, Morrigan's words go and leave it almost on the point of pain from the pressure of how much blood my brain wants the heart to pump into it. Mistress brings her attention back to her sister, and for a moment I lose myself in the earnestness and severity of her peerless perfection. Her mouth is firm, her brilliant blue eyes unblinking, the only show of nerves being the flush strawberry contrasting with the bronze of her cheeks.

The plan was to dominate Morgan, yes, but I never imagined there would be any possibility of Mistress herself being dominated. Stranger still, that there's no instantaneous rejection, and Freya if anything seems...interested? A show of maturity, surely? To accept that sometimes, to get the things we want -- especially when asking them of someone who is herself a natural domme, who is if anything more innately attuned to such a role than Freya herself -- we need to make sacrifices.

'What does that look like?' Mistress says.

'Well, you have some idea of what I like. Blowjobs, in particular. How did your big sister's semen taste, after all of your worrying?'

The bronze-skinned blonde is erect now, her cock standing to attention in the relative dimness of the bedroom. As ever, the sight of it provokes a low salivation, for it's a thing of captivating carnality. So thick, so fat, so impressively virile, upright and engorged, veiny and vigorous, originating from that ever-pleasing bush of wild blonde hairs at its base.

'Strong. Interesting. Intoxicating.'

Morrigan audibly licks her lips, though I still can't lift my attention away from the arresting sight of my Mistress. 'I'm so, so glad to hear that,' she says, a smirk rich in her voice. 'Two days a week, you'll be mine. To obey me. To pleasure me, and, as I see fit, to be pleasured in my fashion in return. And in return, I'll be yours four days out of seven.'

Mistress visibly swallows, and I feel myself go a little bug-eyed. A conversation I never anticipated is happening before me, and all I can do is throb in the open air, cock in need but finding no relief. And it's not as if I can just start wanking. Not without being allowed.

'Five,' Freya says. 'Five days.'

'Four. Then there's a day off each week.'

Mistress twists her mouth, and looks between me and her sister. 'Five. You're getting full access to Tom. He's not just my pet, after all.'

'I had assumed that we'd almost always be playing as a trio. Was that an error on my part?'

'You're joking.'

Morgan chuckles. 'Why would I joke?'

'Morgan...I get you wanting me and Tom in the same room when it's your turn, but when it's mine? How would that work?'

'You intended to just abandon him for days at a time?'

'I intended to see you on those days as I saw fit,' Freya says. 'To give Tom a break, if anything.' The beautiful blonde makes an uncertain face. 'It'd ruin things for me if you didn't do what I told you, during our time together.'

Morrigan laughs again, lusty and sultry. 'Dear Blondie, what is it you have in mind that could be so repulsive I'd refuse it?'

Mistress's eyes grow slightly wet, and her dick pulsates powerfully. 'I couldn't have you both at my disposal without wanting to use the authority you'd be giving me,' she says. 'I...I like humiliating. At least a little bit. And I can't think of anything more potent a humiliation attempt than having you obey Tom, as well.'

The sound of my name is a strange thing. It's spoken regularly, of course, by both sisters, but said by Mistress in this particular fashion at this particular moment, it provokes a low chill up the bones of my back. As if some arcane word, it seems to freeze the world, to stop time, to make everything pause for a long and somewhat painful moment.

I can't bring myself to look at Morgan, and not for my interest in Mistress. I'm not sure I can envision the possible permutations of that face, twisting and souring, distorted, and perhaps even--

'If that's what you want. If it pleases my little sister, then I can please Sweet Tom, as well.'

Freya's confident calm cracks slightly. 'Are you serious?'

'Why wouldn't I be? But I will insist on four days, not five.'

Mistress twists her mouth, and glances to me. Her brilliant blue eyes are oceans of intellect, soulful and seductive, even without being utilised to their full and somewhat frightening superbness. 'Don't say I never doing anything for you,' she says, rolling them at me, focussing her attention again on Morrigan. 'Four it is. It's a deal.'

The older sister extends an elegant hand, its nails black and sharp. 'You're good, little sister. A deal indeed.'

When Freya takes her hand and shakes it, the reality of things dawns. The offer made, agreed on, is a thing of tremendous temptation. I mean, if Morgan is going to obey Freya, to do as she says -- just as I do -- and is even willing to involve me in things...

'For the first act of sealing your place, slut,' Mistress says, rising up onto her feet, 'I want you to pleasure Tom and me. You're going to use those fat cow tits of yours to milk me, and then milk him. Understood?'

My ears ring with the impact of the command. Not a request, given the circumstances. A command, given by the younger sister to the older. I can't seem to bring myself to shift my gaze, and so stare at Freya's lovely legs, hairless and tan, the curvaceousness of them hinting at the toned muscles beneath the surface. Even trying to passingly picture Morgan's massive mammaries, the only breasts other than Freya's I can reasonably consider perfect, seems illicit right now. Part of my brain expects a dismissal, a refusal, but none comes.

'If that is what you want, Mistress. Am I to clean up between acts, or do you want me to use your load as lube when I tend to Tom?'

'That's a lovely thought. Yes, use my load to smother my other slut's filthy little cock afterwards.' The beautiful blonde gives me a gentle kick. 'Up, toy. Don't think you're just going to sit back and do nothing.'

I'm on my feet in a moment, awkward and excited, cheeks aflame and the world surely having spun off its axis into some mad mirroring of the place I know. The two towering futanaris loom over me even without being directly adjacent, each wielding a smile like a scythe, flashing brilliantly in the low sunlight of the evening.

'Is this actually happening, Mistress?' I ask. How can I not ask?

Mistress Freya gives my backside a powerful slap as she moves past me. Smack. 'Of course it's happening, slut. We have a new arrangement, don't we? You heard the words. The deal. Morrigan is going to be joining us, from now on. And we'll use her proper name, during our scenes with her. Understood?'

'Y-es, Mistress.'

Freya chuckles, her usual confident and charmingly cruel self. The busty blonde walks towards the bed with a sway to her hips, their width wonderful and the jiggle to her captivating curves a thing of mind-boggling bounciness. Again, again, again, I can't make sense of my luck. Whichever God or Gods decided this, they clearly love me. Though judging by Morrigan's smirking countenance, in this room, I have two goddesses to thank for the lascivious luxury of serving them.

'It's real,' Morrigan says, her colossal cock twitching with arousal. 'I believe I've found myself at the bottom of this little hierarchy, haven't I?' She considers me with those icy pale eyes, the smirk on her black-ringed red lips vampiric in its nigh-supernatural sensuality. 'For the moment.'

'What was that, slut?' Mistress says.

'Nothing, Mistress. I was just teasing your other slut.'

The pale-skinned sister turns, her own voluptuousness a fair shake wobblier than Freya's. Less toned muscle, less raw athleticism, and the result is a fantastic fattiness in all the right places that has an appeal of its own. Both Venyabildt girls are gorgeous, the older and the younger, and I wouldn't change them for a moment.

'How do you want me, Mistress?' Morrigan says, walking up past the sofa towards the bed. She seems to make an extra effort to sway her hips, giving both Freya and myself a show where her appealing bits bounce or swing. 'On my knees?'

'Have Tom kneel first,' Mistress says, sitting herself on the bed. Freya spreads her legs wide and shuffles slightly forwards, until her nuts are dangling slightly over the edge. 'I want you two to get acquainted with cooperating while servicing me. Tom, I want you to suck and play with my nuts while Morrigan uses her tits. Nestle beneath her like a good and lucky little cock-tease. That's a command.'

'Y-es, Mistress. Anything for you.'

But despite the eager meaning of my words, they come out a bit messy. It's a tremendous ask, and not because I don't want it. Each futanari is large enough, their cocks big enough, their tits heavy enough, their heights tall enough, that I could easily be squished and forgotten between them. I'm not the smallest guy, of course, but Freya and Morrigan are both over six feet tall, and next to them I'm a dwarf.

It takes a surprising force of will to walk over to Mistress, knowing that Morrigan is going to come up behind me, knowing that I'm going to basically be stuffed beneath two sets of large lumps, above my head and pushed against it. Honestly, it's rather remarkable that the gorgeous goth doesn't attempt to touch me as I pass her by, though I'm sure it's her stare that burns into my back, real or imagined.

With every step, Freya's smile grows fiercer. She's never seemed this smug, never seemed so...in her element. I suppose I have my answer, to the question I asked Persephone. At least half of it. It certainly doesn't seem impossible to picture a future where Mistress ends up utterly on top, given how readily she takes to command of not merely her experienced male slut but also, and very interestingly, her traditionally dominant sister-whore.

'Closer and closer, ball-sucker,' Mistress says, gesturing lazily with a curling finger. 'Make sure to do a good job, so there's plenty of my sperm to lubricate that piddly little man-dick of yours.'

Humiliation is definitely the name of the game, today. It feels...slightly boastful, maybe? Like when a friend starts being extra-abrasive in the presence of another, to show off, but it's not so bad. Freya's said plenty of nice things about my dick, too, so the impact of her cheeky remarks does nothing to diminish my vested interest in seeing this to its creamy conclusion.

'Anything for you, Mistress. I'll make sure to give your big beautiful balls all the loving they need to completely cover Morrigan's tits in your cum.'

'Cow tits,' Mistress says. 'From now on, when you refer to Morrigan's oversized fun bags, you'll call them cow tits. Understood?'

I swallow a lump of nervousness, the naughty nastiness contained in her suggestion devilishly delightful, surely far too much of a thing for some mere man to remark towards a Venyabildt goddess like Morrigan. It takes all the will in the world to glance back at the beautiful elder sister and for just a moment lock gazes with her pristinely pale blue eyes, finding in them no hint of disgust but instead a lascivious appreciation for the gutter-minded proclamation of her little sister.

Turning back to Mistress in an instant, I nod twice in quick succession. 'Yes, Mistress. I...I can't wait to feel Morrigan's, uh, cow-tits around my cock. Especially if they're all slippery with your sperm.'

Freya glides her upper teeth against her lower lip and smirks. 'Go on, then. Get your face nice and stuffed against my nuts. I know you live to fucking worship me, so feel free to let loose.'

Words are unnecessary, deeds all. I drop my attention to the beautiful blonde's bollocks, presented there beneath her mammoth manhood, and my mouth responds with a swell of saliva. My purpose, in this house, is to serve. To serve Mistress most of all, but...to serve futanaris, be they Freya or her relatives. And big balls are a siren's song I can't ever bring myself to resist.

I press my hands to her inner thighs and dip forwards, whereupon Mistress pats my head in a degrading fashion, as I'm some pet. 'Good boy,' she says, a lustrous lilt of lustful humour in her tone. 'So dutiful and obedient.'

Her skin is soft against my palms and fingers, those muscular yet curvaceous thighs warm to the touch and cushioning, yielding to my dutiful presence. The way her lovely legs bulge slightly around my fingers and between them makes for a momentarily delicious distraction before the wanton woman collects up her big beautiful dick with one hand and lifts it to give easier access to those sublimely smooth sperm factories.

No command is given, for none is needed. I lean closer and closer to her fat cum makers and sniff at regular intervals, adoring the musky scents of her recently washed nuts, faintly dirtier than they were a short while ago on account of the trading of blowjobs and the inevitable releasing of such fragrantly delightful fluids.

Each of Freya's testicles is huge, a mouthful by itself, a couple of glorious gobstoppers that jiggle and shiver slightly as she flexes her legs. I'm dimly aware of Morrigan's presence behind me, looming above, awaiting her own orders or perhaps simply appreciating the sighting of a submissive suck-slut going to work on her sister's lovely loins.

Smooch, mlep, schlep, slurp, mwah.

What begins with a quick kiss promptly proceeds into a full tasting session, my tastebuds gliding generously over her heavy hangers and finding no end of desirable qualities. The silkiness of her sack, the firmness of the lumps themselves, the warmth of her body and the faint saltiness of her skin. Each lick and kiss begets another, my saliva quickly prompting a glossiness to her opulent orbs and bringing out a pheromonal potency that reminds me of that sublime Venyabildt virility I crave like little else on Earth.