The New Girl, Ch. 14

 

Chapter 14: An Arousing Arrangement

 

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.

‘Mhm. Mumph.’

Schlurp, slup, schlep.

It’s the natural progression to get the entirety of her left nut inside my mouth and nurse on it, bath it in spit, treat it like the royalty it is. Freya fills my senses with her rich smells and musky flavours, hardening my cock to the point of throbbing discomfort.

‘Ooh. That’s a good boy,’ Mistress says, playing roughly with my hair. She relaxes somewhat against the bed, and clicks her tongue. ‘Come, cow-tits. I want to feel those beauties around my shaft.’

‘Whatever you desire, Mistress,’ Morrigan says, her voice that of some dark angel. Sultrier than usual, dialled up on all of its dirtiest aspects. ‘Excuse me, Sweet Tom. This might get a little tight.’

The warmth of the older sister’s body hits me before the moment of contact, which begins with the mammoth shape of her swollen dick against my bare back. Heat and heaviness, and if I’m not mistaken she makes a definite effort to briefly grind up and down against me, the bulk of her bell-end a noticeable presence upon my spine.

I pause my testicle worship for a few heartbeats, shivering and aching with need as Morrigan, so much taller than I am, drops down to all but encompass me with her thickly voluptuous form, her legs coming to rest on the outside of my own. With my head nestled between Mistress’s thighs the gorgeous goth’s gigantic tits come to rest heavily atop my head for a moment before she goes ahead and lifts them up to seize about the sordid swelling of her little sister.

The elder woman’s cock presses powerfully against my back, practically aligned with the ditch of my spine, and her warmth shrouds me and seals me into this tight little luxurious space between Freya’s parted legs.

‘Allow me to milk you, Mistress. Please, cover my cow-tits in all that thick delicious seed.’

Fup, fup, fup, fup.

‘Ugh. Good girl. I can’t wait to mark my territory.’

Morrigan begins moving her big breasts, and Freya groans sweetly, body shifting around me. Two bodies, in fact, moving as if I’m not here, as if I’m just part of the scenery, and it’s…fuck, it’s ever so hot. The wonderful weightiness of the vampiric beauty’s massive mammaries bouncing up and down atop my head as she makes a concerted effort to both tend to her little sister and to make undeniable the fact that I’m kneeling here, doing this, a part of so sublimely sensual a scenario.

Schlup, slurp, schlep, schlap.

I begin sucking again in earnest, earning my keep, doing my bit, and Mistress’s fat nuts heave and pulsate against my face, upon my tongue, between my lips. Her virile pheromonal tanginess thickens inside my mouth, the flavour passingly driving the potently pleasant image of all those healthy swimmers deep into my most primal of thoughts.

‘Ooh. Two perfect pets.’

Freya’s voice is luxurious with pleasure, sultry and proud as we take care of her needs. My ball-sucking and Morrigan’s titfucking combined must have Mistress in utter paradise. Her nuts pulsate against my lips, upon my tongue, and she’s awash with all these little movements. The straining of her legs, the stretching out against the bed, the salacious sighs of her breathing.

Fup, fup, fup, fup.

Schlep, schlup, slurp, slurp.

It’s so humid, so carnally cosy down here between her legs, beneath the cushioning mass of her elder sister. The gorgeous goth’s heavy cock presses against my back, throbbing away, while her big bouncy cow tits wobble up and down atop my head with every masterful movement of her hands.

Their bodies are divine, so large and lust-inducing. Two tall temptresses, each with such a capacity to dominate me utterly, to make me feel small and submissive, and here I am between them as one services the other. The younger in charge today, the older obeying, and all the while I get to appreciate the heft and heaviness of Morrigan’s H-or-whatever cups.

Slup, schlep, schlap, slurp.

The sordidness of things only inflames my appetites all the more, leaves me a quivering wreck of my usual self, set upon pleasuring my Mistress with frenetic abandon. I dig my palms into the plushness of her muscular bronze thighs and go from the left nut to the right, provoking a low tremble in Freya and relishing in the fresh taste of the untouched bollock.

Her pheromonal glory, the flavoursome mark of her abundant superiority, sets some primal part of my head all atingle with need. The need to bring her pleasure, the need to feel her release, the need to taste her quality. Such big, beefy balls, so much larger than mine. How can a mere man compete with a dickgirl demigoddess like Freya Venyabildt, after all?

‘Mhm-hm. Mumph.’

‘Slut,’ Mistress says. ‘Sluts. Both of you. Ugh. Earn my load.’

Fup, fup, fup, fup.

Mistress’s voice pairs with the playful percussion of her big sister’s cow tits, smashing up and down atop my head, around her bronze and beautiful cock. She’s starting to tremble, noticeably. Flexing more, straining more, gradually losing herself to the vulgarity of things. I can only imagine how tight Morrigan’s breasts are, pressed around an erect cock. Freya’s were exceptional, and her sister’s boobs are even bigger. Paired with the fact that a bigger dick means more exposure to such plump and paradise-borne things…fuck, it must be sublime.

‘Are my cow tits meeting your standards, Mistress?’ Morrigan says, all sharp and sultry, composed where I can’t be, with mouthful or no.

‘They’re–aahn–doing a fine job, slut. Finally, you having such ridiculously fat tits makes–mhm–sense to me. They’re meant to be around my–ooh–cock.’

Schlurp, slup, slup, schlap.

Fup, fup, schl-fup, schl-fup.

Our sordid sounds form a symphony, a magical merging around Mistress’s crotch, the most important place in all the universe right now. My frantic sucking, Morrigan’s passionate pumping. Meaty sounds growing wet where Freya’s cock is doubtless leaking, smearing those perfect pale breasts in sticky oily precum.

‘I’m so glad, Mistress. I’ve always wanted to milk you like this. It’s good to know I can put to use such oversized and embarrassingly perverse parts of me.’

The vampiric beauty is a terror with language. Her words, spoken so calmly, as if so well-rehearsed, prompt a deeper straining of my dick, and what kind of effect must they be having on Freya? Her nuts seem to swell that much more, her thigh muscles twitch and strain, and she moves her body in a fashion that suggests a deep and building satisfaction.

Even with eyes open, there’s this powerful mystique of the unknown. The way I’m jammed between her legs, pressed up against her sizeable sagging sperm-makers, I’m left attending to the sounds and the changes of her posture – what little of them I can notice – to make sense of the overall scene.

‘Ughn. You’re a fucking natural at this, Morrigan,’ Mistress says. ‘I’ve wanted to be milked for so long. Why were you being so–ooh–selfish with your affections?’

‘I simply had to know that you were worthy, Mistress. I am going to let you mark my big stupid cow tits with your seed, after all,’ Morrigan says, her voice that perfected perverseness, a risqué richness in the ear. ‘Please cover my cow tits, Mistress. Please. I want you to own them. I want you to mark them as your property. Give me all those lovely strong sperms.’

Fup-schl-fup, fup-schl-fup, fup-schl-fup.

‘Argh. F-uck.’

Suddenly Morrigan picks up the pace, the bouncy beating of her big beautiful breasts atop my head growing all the more impactful. Her tremendous tits and the sound of their slippery servicing dominates the room, and I hesitate with my oral worship out of sheer intrigue, for a long moment caught up only with the salaciousness ringing in my ears.

Mistress whines, not noticing my pausing, completely content with her sister’s efforts. The gorgeous goth really knows what she’s doing, it sounds like, feels like. Freya is completely beholden to the buffet of those cow tits, their milky paleness working wonders to milk fat wads of stickiness out of her bronze behemoth.

And all the while, subtly, slowly, Morrigan grinds her fat-headed cock up and down the ditch of my back, thrusting gently away, making her presence known. It provokes a low arching, a faint shivering, as if a threat, as if a warning. As if…as if her games aren’t quite done, with me at least. Although, if I’m to be hers to do with as she pleases whenever Freya is caught up in other things…

‘K-eep sucking,’ Mistress says, bucking her hips forwards, driving her left nut to smack against the side of my mouth while the right lavishes in a warm bath. ‘I didn’t tell you to–mhm–stop, you slut. Or do you want my sister to be my go-to, from n-ow on?’

‘Numph. Nhmf!’

Schlep, slurp, slurp, schlick.

‘Ooh. That’s what I thought. Now don’t you dare stop again.’

I suck hard, suck passionately, suck wildly on her right testicle. Treating it with reverence, treating with utmost depravity, treating as though it’s the most important thing in the world and nothing else matters whatsoever. Even though it tires my tongue, even though it strains my lips, even though it makes my jaw ache a little to contend with the combination of suction force and the sheer immensity of the size of the plumply proud thing.

‘He’s very good at that, Mistress,’ Morrigan says, her praise every bit as sweet as Freya’s lack of it. Filthy that I am, submissive that I am, it matters not to be complimented or cursed. ‘It’s very much like he craves your genes, isn’t it?’

‘He does,’ Mistress says, a touch breathy. ‘Mhm. Isn’t that right, Tom? You want my sperm to swim all about that slutty little mouth, don’t you?’

‘Mhm-hm. Mhm.’

She chuckles, and Morrigan joins in, for a moment their little play broken while mine – not a play, not really, simply a natural order I’ve taken to like a fish to water – continues on without interruption.

Fup, fup, schl-fup, schl-fup.

Schluck, slurp, smooch, schluck, slurp.

‘I do love him, though,’ Freya says, as Freya, not as Mistress. She lets out a sigh, and brings a hand into my carnal crevice, this realm of wonders trapped between both of their beautiful bodies, and playfully prods at my cheek. ‘I do, Tom. You little slut.’ She pauses, and I’ve no idea what they look like up there. What their faces show. ‘Does that bother you, Morgan?’

‘You can keep calling me Morrigan,’ her sister says. ‘And no. It would’ve. But I see it. I see why.’ As she speaks, she pushes her prick against me with increased urgency. ‘I’m going to be honest, Blondie. If he wasn’t yours, I’d want him for myself.’

The movements above fall still, and yet – obedient as I am – I keep sucking. Holding on for a little too long onto her right nut, but sucking all the same. Little by little, the pause becomes…curious. I slow my pace but don’t stop – schlick, slup, schlup – and find myself waiting, wondering.

Mistress chuckles. ‘Oh, you’ve got his attention.’ She flicks at my cheek this time, prodding a moment later. ‘Don’t worry, slut. I’m not bothered. Mhm. Tell me all the things you’d like to do to him, Morrigan. Tell me while you pull out this–aah–approaching load.’

Schl-fup, schl-fup, schl-fup.

The gorgeous goth begins working her tits again, bouncing them away, invoking a surge of pulsations in the beautiful blonde’s big bronze balls. Her climax can’t be far away now, provoking twitches in her thighs, a quickening of her breathing, the little tell-tale markers that are the undeniable signs of a building orgasm.

‘Hmm. Where do I begin? Let’s see…I’d stop masturbating, for one. My cock would barely ever leave his mouth. He’d get so good at sucking me off that you’d be hard-pressed to imagine he ever did anything else.’

Schl-fup, schl-fup, schl-fup.

Schlup, slurp, slurp, schlep.

Mistress moans sweetly, and shudders against my face, against my hands. ‘I already know that. Mhm. I know you’re blowjob-obsessed.’

‘Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. I’d use his face like a pussy, Blondie,’ Morrigan says. As she speaks, visualises those fantasies, her cock strains all the fiercer against my back, oozing away, leaking its lascivious fluids down the ditch of my spine. ‘I’d have his head hanging over the edge of my bed, and he’d basically be a cocksleeve. Bound up, perhaps. Ready to go, whenever I feel I’m needing release. None of that slow sweet romantic bullshit, that traditional cock-worship – not on my meaner days. I’d simply fuck his face and get on with my day, and leave him there until I wanted another go. A deposit box for dick milk, you might say.’

‘Would you–aah–let him taste you?’

The vampiric beauty laughs, putting special effort into bumping her boobs atop my scalp. ‘Oh, definitely not. That makes it crueller, doesn’t it? All of that use, and he’d never taste a drop. I’d wring out every last spurt deep down his throat…at least initially.’

As arousing as the idea is, it bothers me as well. I can’t pretend I don’t want to be used, to have my face practically the property of one Venyabildt futanari or another, but my psyche is too hard-wired to crave their cum at this point. Freya’s or Morrigan’s, it doesn’t matter, but all those blowjobs and no heavy mouthfuls of sticky thick cum?

‘Initially?’

‘Oh, yes. For all of Genevieve’s evils, she did something right,’ Morrigan says, using her breasts expertly, grinding gently against me. I keep sucking, keep slurping on Mistress’s nuts, but hang on her sister’s every word. ‘Venyabildt Pharmaceuticals manufactured a series of very naughty drugs. They do different things, and the ones that Granny Gen really liked are no longer in production, but–’

‘W-hat were those?’ Freya says.

‘I’d admonish your rudeness, but you are my Mistress.’ Schl-fup, schl-fup, schl-fup. The older sister puts extra effort into her movements, extracting a low sigh as Mistress’s creamy conclusion grows more and more inevitable. ‘Gen had addiction pills. Pills that would, when taken, induce dependence on those fed her semen. They don’t work on futanaris, though.’

‘Y-ou’d have him addicted to your cum?’

‘Hmm.’ Morrigan makes a thoughtful sound, but then says, ‘That’s not quite as interesting. Not in light of how much I do appreciate the sluttiness of Sweet Tom, having gotten to know him better.’

Schl-fup, schl-fup, schl-fup.

Slurp, slurp, schlup, schlip.

‘Mhm. He i-s a right proper whore, isn’t he?’

The gorgeous goth chuckles. ‘He’s a superb one.’ She firmly presses her length against me, managing to disguise such vulgar advances with the perfection applied through her fat and fantastic tits. ‘But no, you’ve convinced me. I wouldn’t want an addict…I want free choice. For which, there’s a different pill. One that suits my tastes down to a tee.’

‘T-ell me,’ Mistress says, breathing strained now. ‘What does–aah–this one do?’

‘It transforms the nutritional value of your load,’ Morrigan says. ‘So that Sweet Tom, for example, could – only for short periods, we’re talking a few days a week – live off it. It would be filling enough, sustaining enough, that for a few days each week…he’d spend all day worshipping me, and treating my semen like an all-you-can-eat buffet.’

‘Ughn. F-uck.’

Mistress suddenly grunts, and she brings her legs in tightly around the sides of our pressed-together bodies, thick thighs squishing against my palms. Her nuts violently pulsate and ripple within my mouth, against my face, and I know what’s happening above without needing to see it.

‘Oh, thank you, Mistress,’ Morrigan says, her voice an audible smile. ‘Thank you for blessing me with all this thick, healthy sperm.’

Schl-fup, schl-fup, schl-fup.

‘Mhm. Ugh. Y-ou’re w-elcome, s-lut. F-uck those cow tits are g-ood.’

Mistress must relax against the covers, because the bed shifts beneath her weight. Her sultry sister continues to use her breasts like tremendous weapons, thoroughly milking her big bronze cock between them while it doubtless releases shot after squirt after spurt atop them and surely across the vampiric beauty’s lovely face.

Schlep, schlep, schlurp, schlep.

I passionately suck on Freya’s nuts, doing my best to remind them of their most loyal and loving pet, the luckiest man in the world who nonetheless wants nothing more than to give them the affection they deserve and guzzle down their perfectly perverse produce. Every shudder and shiver that races through them feels that much more intense today, more than I’ve ever witness first-hand.

The presence of her sister is surely a potentiator, but the conversation seemed to be the trigger. Freya, exposed to the possibility of feeding me in the most literal and vulgar of senses, has clearly been pushed right into that most desirable and delectable of states. Cumming hard, cumming heavy, creaming her big sister’s face and tits while having her nuts noshed upon by her loyal male slut in the process.

‘Oh, G-od. This is fucking great.’

Schl-fup, schl-fup, schl-fup.

Morrigan continues to milk her little sister, but steadily slows her pace as Freya’s climax softens, the bulk of its dirtiness delivered. Mistress continues to tremble and shudder, whole body struck with such sublimeness, but her nuts pulsate with decreasing power as the moments go by.

‘C-ome on up,’ Mistress says, all of a sudden. ‘See the m-asterpiece I’ve painted, slut.’

Ordinarily I’d be reluctant to leave behind her balls, but my curiosity is too much. Morrigan makes an effort to withdraw slightly, to give me a little bit of space to remove myself from the carnal crush between the both of them, and I give each of Mistress’s lovely nuts a parting kiss before slipping free of the humid heaven.

I stumble out in my hurry, almost tripping over myself, but manage to just about stabilise before looking more of a fool than usual. Morrigan turns to me as I get up onto my knees, and her sudden lack of perverse proclamations is instantly explained.

The vampiric beauty smirks at me, beholding me with a single open eye. Her right eye has been overwhelmed by two fat ropes of creamy cum, those two explosive efforts being the highest shooting of the whole climax. Her lower face clearly took the brunt of it, her lovely lips utterly smothered in semen, plenty of it drooling down from her chin at irregular lengths like little gooey stalactites, steadily being dragged towards her breasts by gravity.

Her tits, of course, are plentifully basted. Mistress’s loads are usually heavy, but this one in particular – the combination of tantalising teamwork on my and her big sister’s behalf – is enormous, a colossal quantity of jism that has left Morrigan thoroughly marked with her little sister’s genes and nonetheless smiling away, appreciating the salacious side of the dirtiness in a way that speaks to my very soul.

Freya gives me a smirking wink from atop the bed, now resting upon her back, happily spent and trembling softly as the risqué ripples course through her bodacious bronze form. Mistress sighs sweetly and shuts her eyes, relaxing into the sweet release so deftly delivered by the dutiful efforts of her temporary and permanent sluts.

‘You two make a good team,’ she says, voice breathy and rapturous with pleasure. ‘Give me a little while and I’ll–aah–oversee you getting that titwank, Tom. In the meantime, help Morrigan clean up a bit. Mhm. You know what to do. Only her face, m-ind.’

‘Y-es, Mistress,’ I say, the words coming out a touch shakily. Am I to lick? To kiss? To…? Regardless, beneath the gorgeous goth’s gaze, I’m well aware that this is going to be its own wonderfully wicked experience. ‘I’ll h-elp.’

But Morrigan does little to assist me, in that area. She keeps her tits around her sister’s steadily softening cock, ensuring that it remains cradled in a realm of utmost warmth and welcomeness. Kneeling down, the black-haired beauty is so tall that I have to stand hunched over to involve myself in the cleaning process, because I’m simply too short beside her when kneeling. She does, at least, present her face to me, that one good eye sparkling with interest and excitement, beholding me in a fashion which – without her words to disprove it – seems almost inviting, almost eager for me to be so close to her.

I steady myself on the edge of the bed and lean in close, finding only vague hints of the vampiric goth’s own innate perfumes and familiar scents. Instead, the appealing muskiness of Mistress’s abundantly released load dominates, thick and cock-tingling on the nose.

Morrigan smirks as I extend my tongue to her left cheek, relishing the moment of contact. A thick splatter of salty sweetness covering my tastebuds, sending a low shiver through me as I taste, yet again – and yet never enough! – the reproductive flavours of her lovely little sister.

‘Mhm.’

Schlep, slup, mlep, mlep.

‘Ooh.’ The gorgeous goth chuckles, moaning slightly. ‘That really tickles. It’s a good thing I don’t wear foundation. I certainly wouldn’t want to ruin your treat.’

Somehow, I forget the relative disparity between us. It comes naturally, to rest my hands on the elder sister’s shoulders and practically eat the side of her face, licking lustily, adoring every moment. Mistress’s spooge is so delicious, so divine, even when it’s not directly fresh from her dick. I scoop it up, tongueful after tongueful, making sure to savour and chew it before gulping it down without a care in the world. Noisy and naughty and nasty as can be.

‘Holy shit, he’s so fucking filthy,’ Freya says. She brings up her left leg and pushes the foot into my back, playful yet pointed. ‘Jeez, Tom. Is this because it’s Morrigan, or because it’s me?’

‘More the latter,’ I say, between mouthfuls. ‘But, um…honestly, some of the former as well.’

Schleck, slurp, schlurp, schlep.

I shut my eyes and lose myself in the magic of the moment, licking the vampiric beauty’s face clean. She allows me to do it, has no interest in stopping me. The most intervention she applies is to scoop the thickness out of that assaulted eye and deliver several coated fingers to my mouth, forcing them right in there without hesitation.

‘He’s actually ideal, I think,’ she says, laughing lustily. Morrigan seems to enjoy the suction of my mouth around her fingers as well, and seems to be in no rush to yank them free. ‘You are ever so lucky, Mistress. I can’t quite say how grateful I am to be part of this. The second in your little harem.’

Freya persists in prodding at my back with her foot as I finish up on the left side of her sister’s face, but the pointedness loses some of its power in favour of a kind of fond massaging, a stroking up and down. ‘Why’s his back sticky in places, cow tits?’

I freeze up as Mistress drags her big toe through the offending regions, and stare the gorgeous goth dead in her pale blue eyes. The lower right side of her face is still smeared with jism, and yet it seems to be completely irrelevant to her. Her expression walks the tightrope between that undiluted inner confidence and her playful pretence of submission, and being marked with another cock’s release does nothing to sway the balance.

‘Because Sweet Tom might be the first man I’ve ever wanted to fuck deep in his dirty little boy-pussy,’ Morrigan says. My heart becomes a large lump at the back of my throat. ‘I’m sorry, Mistress, but I do find him ever so fetching.’

Behind us, Freya sits upright, but the look on her face is one of flushed arousal, not a hint of disdain. To think how uncomfortable she was when this whole thing started, and to behold her now…the transition is immaculate. A turn for the better, for all involved, but most of all for herself. Freya is never going to be quite like her sister, but I’m starting to think she might be even better.

‘Snog him,’ Mistress says, smiling sweetly. ‘Suck on his tongue. Taste his boy-spit. You’re less than he is, in this room, on these days. Understood, cow tits?’

Of course, the vampiric beauty can’t simply settle for being told. She’s naughty, in the best of ways. With no need to cup together her colossal tits, all smeared and stained with semen, she instead brings her right hand to my cock and her left up to my chin. Morrigan wets her luscious lips, in the process catching a fat rope of her little sister’s load across the pretty pinkness of her tastebuds.

She swallows it and smiles all the bolder, playfully and noiselessly massaging my erection with the silken supremacy of her dextrous fingers. ‘I’d be happy to, Mistress. If you believe I’m his lesser, then I’m his lesser.’ Morrigan turns her alluring attention to me, seizing me with those captivating eyes. Arctic ice, blue and pale. ‘Please, Sweet Tom. Let me suck on your tongue and taste your dirty boy-spit. I want to make our Mistress ever so happy.’

And she says it all, pitch-perfect, while wringing my dick with her hand. Masterfully tending to me, but not putting in quite enough effort to make me cum too quickly. Saving that, of course, for the – and I can’t believe it’s going to happen – titwank I’m to receive afterwards.

‘O-f course, um, cow tits. I…I’d be happy to let you do that.’

‘Do what?’ Mistress says, giving me a poke.

‘S-uck on my tongue. I’d be h-appy to let Morri–uh, cow tits–suck on my tongue.’

‘Good boy.’ Freya returns to that playful massaging. ‘Dirty her perfect mouth, slut. I own it now, so enjoy yourself.’

This cannot be happening. This can’t be real. It’s one thing to service Morrigan, but to make out with her, and in so vulgar a fashion? Just like Freya says, her mouth is perfect. Just like Mistress, just like this whole genetically sublime family. And she’s coaxing me forwards with that gentle grip on my throat, egging me to put my lips against those black-rimmed scarlet curves, and to let her suck on my fucking tongue.

Oh God. Oh fuck.

Her lips are like heaven, fire against my own. Plush, plump, welcoming. It takes a moment to work up the courage to stick my tongue inside her mouth, but the moment I do I’m awash with the sweetness of her spit, faintly tinged by the taste of Freya’s luxurious load.

‘Mhm. Mhaah.’

Schlup, slurp, slurp, schlup.

It’s extremely erotic. The act itself, the passion she puts into it, the fact that the both of us are doing this in front of Mistress. Morrigan keeps her eyes wide open, staring at me with those pale and perfect blues, as if asserting herself even now in this private battleground between the both of us.

I can’t help but tremble, shudder madly, beset by her on two fronts. Her mouth is magical, the suction of her velvet-soft cheeks around my tongue phenomenal in itself, but then there’s her hand as well. That deviant hand, fiddling with my cock, giving it a steady massage up and down the length of my shaft, with enough energy to bring great joy and yet not so much that it provokes the familiar meaty fapping of masturbation.

‘Mhmf. Mumph.’

Schlup, schlup, slurp, schlup, slurp.

My cheeks grow hotter and hotter beneath Morrigan’s gaze, no hint of her demonic dominance absent as she beholds me. This is still that gorgeous goth, pale and vampiric, completely in control whenever she needs to be. There’s no illusion or trick, simply an application of her sublime will to at once torment me and please her little sister.

‘That’s a fucking fine sight,’ Mistress says. She laughs, and pokes at my back with a toe. ‘How’s that, slut? My sister’s mouth. Shit, she seems to be way more into it than I’d think for someone with such a superiority complex.’

And the thing is, Freya’s not exactly wrong. The black-haired beauty is absolutely into what she’s doing. This is above and beyond, this is the kind of thing that’s meant to convey a message. But it makes little sense, especially to my lust-addled brain. So what if she’s into me? I mean, she’s got that coming anyway. That’s the whole point of the arrangement the two of them just made. But then–

Morrigan suddenly pulls away, ceasing all movements upon my body. Her hand leaves my cock, her lips my mouth and tongue, and she makes a vulgar effort to languorously lick them of any residual spit.

‘He really is sweet, Mistress. Sweet Tom, indeed.’ She hurriedly scoops up a dense dose of spooge from her left cheek and cleans off the finger, moaning softly as she swallows. ‘Not as sweet as you, of course. Those big balls produce such exquisite loads.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Butter me up all you want.’ Freya moves, and I turn around just in time for her to come up behind me, a looming and lovely shape. Amazonian and alluring, the blonde bronze-skinned goddess gets my throat in the crook of an elbow and gently but firmly yanks me further onto the bed. ‘If you were trying to get him to shoot his load early and avoid marking those fat fucking titties, then you’ve got another thing coming.’

I’m struck by the delightful bubble-gum of Mistress’s body spray as she pulls me up against her naked body. The fat warmth of her cock presses against my lower back, softened but not quite soft, and her tremendous tits are a pair of pillowy mountains against my back, nipples hard and glorious where they brush against my skin.

She rests her chin atop my head and brings her other hand around my front, rubbing it against my belly. Captured like this, held in her grasp, I can’t help but throb and swell, my cock acting as the perfect weathervane for my happiness.

‘I wouldn’t dare,’ Morrigan says, sitting back on her calves. Her milk-pale body is thicker in some ways than Freya’s, especially heavier in the breast department, and noticeably jiggles as she moves. What a fucking sight. ‘I’m happy, outright eager, to give him that titwank you asked for, Mistress. Though, given that I did such a good job for you…I wondered if I might make a request?’

Mistress shakes her head, the movement obvious against my scalp. ‘Nope. Come on, cow tits. Let’s add some loser male jism to those stupid bouncy fuckers.’

They are distracting. It can’t just be me staring at them, because Morrigan makes sure to act all showy as she rises up onto her knees and shuffles forwards. She collects them up, one hand beneath each boob, and gives them a wicked wiggling of their magnificent massiveness. The tops of her tits are utterly glazed with jism, so thick and gooey it hides in places any hint of the pallor beneath. Not much of it has dripped down into the gap between them, but her lurid movements ensure that some of the excessive ejaculate leaks down as she shuffles forwards, ready to act as improvised lube for the second big-breasted tittyfuck of my life.

‘Whatever you desire, Mistress. I am after all your cow-titted slave, am I not?’

‘Ooh, slave, I like that,’ Mistress says. She gently tightens her hold around my neck, resting the weight of her head against my hair. Her hand squeezes my shoulder, and the other softly strokes my belly. ‘Be a good girl and milk the slut who outranks you. And if he tells you to do things differently, or better, then you’ll obey. Is that understood?’

Morrigan’s eyes dip down to mine, and she smirks seductively. ‘Of course, Mistress. I’ll treat him as I would you, for the duration of the act. Does that suit you, Master?’

If my cock could launch like a rocket, it surely would. No way this is happening. No way. The gothic woman is utterly and unrelentingly gorgeous, just like her little sister, but where Freya has a deep and apparently unerring love for me, what does Morrigan have? Why do this? Why use her perfect body to pleasure a “mere” male?

‘It’s f-ine,’ I say, somewhat mewling. ‘G-ood, even.’

Mistress chuckles, and the vampire beauty approaches, the cleft of her colossal chest coming within mere inches of my throbbing length. Those talented hands slide slowly up around the sides of each bountiful breast and of course she pushes them together, exemplifying their enormousness.

‘It’s more than fine. He’s just being a little bitch about it.’

Freya squeezes me tighter, and I’m surprised I don’t just instantly bust a load for the combination of her body pressed against my back, cock and tits and everything, and her older sister’s approaching milky white mammaries to my front. With every passing second, with every decrease in the distance between my apparently God-chosen self and the gothic goddess before me, I count my blessings that the sheer volume of orgasms in my daily life has given me some fleeting degree of inoculation against anything so unbecoming as shooting before the moment of glory.

‘I had figured as much,’ Morrigan says, gazing upon my face, icy blues devouring my features as she smilingly considers me. ‘I don’t blame him. It’s not every day you get to feel such a perfect pair of cow tits around your little male dick.’

Schpup-plup.

‘Ughn!’

It takes all the strength in me not to lose my mind as she presses her cum-covered cleavage against the underside of my cock, promptly swallowing it between them. The delicate deliciousness of her perfectly pale skin pairs dirtily with the slathered silkiness of her sister’s spooge, that most lustful of lubricants making my initial entry into the tremendous tightness between her breasts deceptively easy.

That is, however, where the simplicity ends.

‘Milk him,’ Mistress says. ‘Be a good slut, cow tits, and milk my bitch-boy.’

Schpup-fup, schpup-plup, schpup-fup.

The vampiric beauty smiles sensually at me, obeying without need of acknowledging the command. She keeps her hands pressed against the unmarked sides of her colossal chest and lifts them up as one, those long and lovely fingers exhibiting a surprising strength that I couldn’t quite appreciate when I was beneath the booby bonanza. The way they rise and fall is so rhythmic and carefully curated, her degree of control exceptional given that each breast is way more than a handful.

To be between them is…well, I’m amazed that Freya didn’t cum quicker. There’s such heat and humidity born of the size and weight of her massive melons, and for this second encounter the fantastically filthy presence of all that semen, gooey and perversely pleasant against my cock. As if it wasn’t enough that her tits are so fucking profoundly fat that with the simplest application of her hands the space between them becomes some captivatingly carnal crush, I have to contend as well with the semen of my favourite person in all the world generously applied between them to squelch against my shaft.

Schpup-fup, schpup-plup, schpup-fup.

‘Ugh. F-uck, Mistress. It’s–ughn–too much.’

I writhe on the spot, eliciting cruel and charming laughter from both sisters. All the world is Venyabildt perfection, before me and behind me, holding me in place with some mixture of hands and mammaries. Freya throbs against my back and her sister tends to the swelling at my front, seeming to steadily increase the pace with every completed up-down gesture.

Morrigan’s pale blue eyes are at once unearthly beautiful and yet enigmatically terrifying, for her power over me seems to extend into every encounter we’ve shared. I am so vulnerable to her, just as I am to Mistress, and it’s at once troubling and tantalising to think that I’m going to be exploring that side of myself a great deal more in the future that was decided upon today.

‘Such a lovely sound.’ Freya plays with my body with each of her hands, massaging my belly and teasing at my collarbone with a finger. ‘I’m sure her tits are even better than mine for this, aren’t they? Given that my sister has such servile fat fucking cow tits.’ Mwah. Mistress kisses the top of my head, all affectionate and appreciative, but the loveliness does nothing to quell the cheekiness in her tone. ‘You can have this whenever you want, slut. I give you permission to demand titwanks, when you need to cum. No more wanking for you, not when there’s Morrigan’s milkers to paint with cum.’

‘Argh. F-uck. Th-ank y-ou Mistress.’

It takes so much from me to speak, it feels like. Just the up and down, just the bouncy bouncing, just the carnal clench between those H or J or whatever cups is enough to sap my strength of will. Things are only worsened by the fact that Morrigan Venyabildt is utterly gorgeous, and the faces she pulls are so charmingly carnal that it’s impossible to separate her overall appearance from the sublime squishiness of her tits around my cock.

Schpup-schplack, schpup-plup, schpup-schplack, schpup-fup.

All of a sudden, it gets harder. Worse, and yet all the more wonderful. The pale-skinned seductress leaps from the steadiness of her pacing to something bordering on violent, clamping her hands tighter around the sides of her magnificent mammaries and delivering unto my dick a voluptuous vice made out of the jism-jammed valley of paradise that is her chest.

‘Good girl, cow tits,’ Mistress says, chucking cruelly. ‘Ruin him. Drain those slutty little balls.’

‘As you say, Mistress. Anything to make you happy.’

‘G-uh. Ughn.’

I can’t keep my eyes open. Can’t do anything but fight to hold on. The sloppy sordidness, a symphony of sublime squishing and squelching, grows louder and louder in my ears. Any attempt to twist or writhe, to regain some fleeting instance of control, is met with absolute resistance by the twin temptresses. Freya’s hold is unrelenting, those strong arms keeping me firmly in place, and even if I did by some miracle get free of them, her big sister’s big boobs are a velvet prison all of their own.

It's too perfect, too much for me. I want to last, want this to go on for ages, but how can it? Already, there’s a powerful pressure building beneath the base of my cock. Already, there’s that fantastic fiery warmth seeming to bubble away within me, ready to release. I stand no chance against Morrigan, not when she’s this combination of Venyabildt beauty and titillating talent.

‘Argh. F-uck.’ I grunt, louder than ever, forcing my legs out to full extension and straining my toes in the process. It’s oppressive, how good Morrigan is. How profoundly plump those cow tits are, wrapped around my cock. ‘M-istress. I’m…I’m gonna…’

It’s almost like that silence in the wake of thunder, deafening. A sensation so powerful I can’t really think of its equal. One moment, my dick is in that paradise of pushed-together titty tightness, and the next it’s all cold. In the open air, alone, abandoned. I open my eyes and find on the gorgeous goth’s beautiful face not some tendency towards torment, but instead something wicked and wonderful.

Morrigan flicks her pale blue eyes between my face and my dick, which throbs away all splattered with Mistress’s creamy load. I need release, and it’s nowhere more obvious than in my upright and swollen shaft. She extends the tip of a teasing finger to the underside of my cock, giving it the briefest of strokes.

‘I’ve got an idea, Mistress. To humiliate me further, of course.’

Freya doesn’t say anything. I’m too mind-blown to comment. The sight of the vampiric beauty is somewhat paralysing by itself, but the way she moves leaves me on the cusp of true breathlessness.

‘Holy shit,’ Mistress says at last. ‘Holy fucking shit.’

Schlup, slurp, schlup.

I don’t quite register it. The swiftness of her sister’s decision, the intensity of what follows. Suddenly I’ve got those voluptuous lips around my helmet, around the first third of my cock. Such beautiful lips, red lipstick with black edges, the tell-tale styling of the older Venyabildt daughters’ mouth. And what a fucking mouth.

If only I weren’t on the edge of ejaculating already, I might enjoy it for longer. Such warmth and wetness, the silkiness of her lips and the dedication of their grip. Her tongue, which acts as some wanton whip, this constant shifting between fiery firmness and spit-slicked softness where it races about against my helmet.

‘Ugh. Guh.’

Morrigan meets my eyes the moment my load begins to spurt free, that magnificent mind setting its focus upon my own as it learns the taste of my meagre male sperm. At best I manage a whimper, a pathetically minor sound given the tremendousness of what I’m experiencing.

‘That’s it, cow tits.’ Mistress brings her hand from my belly forwards, resting it in a proprietary fashion atop her sister’s head. ‘That’s a good fucking whore.’

‘Mhmf. Mhm.’

Schlup-slurp, schlup-schlep, schlup-slurp.

I fight, tooth and nail, to keep my eyes locked on Morrigan’s. She keeps sucking, keeps working that tongue, using her mouth like that of some succubus. I’ve never shot a load so forcibly, never had anyone treat my dick quite like this. Like royalty, like a god, like something deserving of worship despite the relative quickness of the deed.

This is some defilement, some act of heresy, to paint a Venyabildt’s tongue with my load. It clearly turns Freya on to some absurd degree, given how powerfully her cock throbs against my back, pressed there much as her sister’s was not long before. I can’t quite fathom how I ended up as part of this, here between the two of them, emptying my nuts in the goth’s mouth while the bronze-skinned beauty practically cheers me on.

‘Feed her, slut,’ Mistress says, kissing my head. Mwah. ‘Feed that cow tit whore those dirty little tadpoles. Some Venyabildt scion she is, tasting cum out of a boy’s inferior dick.’

‘Mhm-hm.’

‘Ughn. F-uck, Morrigan.’

Schlup-slurp, schlup-schlep, schlup-slurp.

The gothic beauty shows no signs of slowing, seeming to take her sister’s words in her stride. It’s an incredible sight, an intensely amazing sensation, to be the lucky receiver, inferior dick or no, of Morrigan’s magical mouth. Has any other man ever done this? Am I the first? Shit, as if it matters. It’s a glory beyond words, and even though I’m pretty sure I’m done shooting, the elder sister continues to bob her head and swirl her tongue and suck in her cheeks to give me the most satisfying release my cock has ever received.

As my eyes grow hooded, as a sense of profound relaxation sweeps over me, the pale-skinned dickgirl slowly releases me from her lips. She makes sure not to spill a drop, letting my helmet go only when no trace remains of my jism upon its pink contours. The fact that she allows the creaminess of her sister’s load to remain on my shaft speaks volumes as to what compelled her to do what she just did.

‘Mhm.’

The sound of Morrigan’s moan, doubtlessly loudened for the sake of highlighting the perversion of what’s just occurred, hits the ear just right. It sends a chill down my back, a rippling spiderweb of shivers outwards to my fingers and toes. Paired with the faintest of slurping noises, the churning about of my male milk behind the paradise of those plump lips, it’s practically an auditory orgasm.

‘Jesus Christ,’ I say, sighing softly. Mistress’s hold on me remains pleasantly powerful, the plushness of her big breasts against my back and the throbbing of her needy thickness both potentiating the relieving glory of my release. ‘You…you’re just…’

‘Good girl,’ Freya says, stroking her sister’s head, making an effort to maintain the neatness of her straight black hair. ‘Show me. Show me that inferior load that’s dirtying your tongue, cow tits.’

The gorgeous goth makes a determined effort to look at her little sister’s eyes, to obey the command, but at the moment she parts her black-and-crimson lips Morrigan’s attention is solely upon me. Some taunt, almost. Some frighteningly fantastic suggestion that she can service me with her tits and her tongue and nonetheless remain my superior in all things sexual. Remains in complete control of the situation, and revels in it.

It makes our cocks, mine and Mistress’s, throb something fierce. The sight of such a pretty tongue covered in my jism, an unsurprisingly large load given the degree of arousal present in Freya’s bedroom right now, is enough to completely command my gaze and disregard the world around it. The vampiric beauty’s tastebuds, slathered in my seed, putting on a show to highlight just how far she’s gone, how far she’s willing to go, in pursuit of this most vulgar arrangement between the three of us.

‘Shit, you’re so dirty.’ Freya chuckles, and pats her sister’s head. ‘Swallow it. Put it inside you. Dispose of the evidence.’

Morrigan does so without a hint of reluctance, happily drawing her tongue back between her lips and gulping down my pride, swallowing the sperm of some lesser male into her divine Venyabildt physiology. A moment later she makes sure to reveal the emptiness of her pretty mouth, white teeth and pink tongue utterly spotless, before smiling up at our Mistress.

‘All gone, Mistress,’ Morrigan says. ‘It must say something about how disgustingly depraved I am, because I’d happily do that again. Sweet Tom continues to live up to his name.’

Freya slowly slides her hand down from atop her big sister’s head and strokes the side of her face, appreciating the paleness and perfection of her right cheek before gently cupping Morrigan’s chin with sensual strength. ‘I’ve got a present for you, cow tits. For being such a good girl.’

The gothic beauty sits herself straight on her calves, hands down across her needy erection as if to urge the disobedient thing to sit. As a result her arms press together those tremendous tits, a show for any who looks upon them. There’s still plenty of Freya’s load between them, given the vastness of both the older sister’s boobs and the volume of the younger’s ejaculation.

‘Mistress?’ Morrigan cocks her head to the side, and smiles stickily. ‘A present for my good behaviour? You don’t need to do that. I’m yours to do with as you please, I was simply obeying you.’

‘A present for me, then.’ Mistress lurches forwards, the strength of her Amazonian physique momentarily obvious as she so easily pushes me off the edge of the bed in the process of climbing onto her feet. ‘Slut,’ she says, not yet releasing her hold of my throat. ‘Clean my cum off those cow tits, using your mouth. I’m going to get ready on the bed. Join me, both of you, when there’s not a drop left on those fat fucking things.’

When Freya lets go of me I’m forced to immediately adjust to her absence, the world being such an easier thing when you’ve got her magnificent body keeping a firm grip on your own. There’s a momentary awkwardness as I stand before Morrigan, still on her knees and yet no less intimidating for that fact, while Mistress leaves me with a firm spanking of my backside and continues to exude nothing short of captivating coolness as the lustiness of the evening continues.

The vampiric beauty brings her arms up beneath her breasts and crosses them, each hand gripping each elbow, making her tits even more of a feast for the eyes as they press together and seem to be all the larger as a result. That magical mingling of the creamy white of her skin (with plenty of sperm all gooey across it) and the pretty pinkness of her nipples and their surrounding haloes is enough to shunt blood back into my dick, and give it a slight firmness despite the after-effects of her titwank-turned-blowjob still cascading through my system.

‘My cow tits are yours to clean, Master,’ Morrigan says, giving her chest a slight wiggle. ‘I hope their stupid size doesn’t put you off.’

Freya chuckles somewhere behind me, and the bed springs go faintly as she climbs atop it. ‘I don’t think we can quite put a price on how much you owe me, Tom,’ she says, the cheeky contentment in her voice so rich and ripe that it further enflames my cheeks. ‘I figure this at least counts for all birthdays and Christmases and other gifts to come, forever.’

‘Y-eah.’

‘Yeah, what?’

‘Th-ank you, M-istress.’

Mistress chuckles. ‘Stare all you like, but the longer you take, the rougher it’s going to be.’

Stare all I like, she says, but it’s more than that. I can’t bring myself away from Morrigan, can’t seem to pull my attention off of those colossal cow tits. The older Venyabildt seemed so out of reach, so impossible an object of interest unless I drop to my knees and worship her like the goddess she is, but I’d be lying if I pretended that her body at large doesn’t appeal.

There’s a look in those eyes that suggests she’s all about this, with some misgivings. That our places haven’t shifted, even if she’s happy to let me taste the spooge-soaked beauty of her boobs. Morrigan keeps her hands there, pressed neatly beneath her melons, ensuring that they’re all the more enchanting to behold.

She smirks slowly, the expression building with the faint clumsiness of my descending. So mesmerised as I am by her mammaries, it’s as if I’ve lost all control of my body. What should be the simplest thing is now difficult, because my brain can’t wrap itself around the reality of the situation.

It’s more than the fact that they’re such lovely things. Freya’s are often a pillow for me, and it’s far from unheard of that she’ll let me touch and kiss and suckle on them. But Morrigan is different, and now…now she’s different again, in quite the reverse. Master. It rings in my head, fake and yet nonetheless ridiculously real.

‘Come on,’ Morrigan says, soft as silk, practically a whisper. ‘I’m not going to bite. Nor am I going to get funny about my nipples, even though there’s clearly no cum on either of them.’

The lust in her pale blue eyes is discomforting, if only for the fact that it’s in many ways a mirroring of that I see so often in Mistress’s. Somehow, by some abject madness, I’ve earned the affections of both Venyabildt daughters. Two of the most beautiful women in the world, and what little I understand of my future involves me tending to their bodies as and when they demand it. And better yet, I’m to be part of the vulgar game each is inevitably going to play with the other!

Her words spur me, and I move with ravenousness. It’s a miracle I don’t manage to fuck up my knees, dropping forwards towards her. The gorgeous goth lets out a lustful laugh as I bring my hands to her hips, steadying myself on my knees before her. Our mismatched heights gives me an easy time shoving my face forwards, hungrily hunting every last spurt of spooge basted upon her bountiful boobies.

Mlep, slurp, schlurp, slurp.

‘Mhm. Mhmf.’

‘G-ood boy,’ Morrigan says, mask on the cusp of slipping. She clears her throat, and moans softly. ‘Ooh. I mean, good Master.’

Mistress chuckles to herself atop the bed, doubtless watching the whole thing unfold. My tongue touches time and again upon the silkiness of skin and the bounciness of breast meat, her big sister’s body its own exquisite playground. Even cooled slightly, Freya’s thick load is more than pleasant, salty-sweet and sensually sticky. I scoop it up on the blade of my tongue with each lurid lashing, caught between savouring the substance and relishing the act of earning it from the pale sister’s massive mammaries.

It’s impossible not to moan as I slide my tongue through the top of her cleavage, infinitely grateful that Morrigan had me empty into her mouth instead of polluting Mistress’s milk with my inferior male produce. There’s such luxury in appreciating Freya, of course, of tasting those strong Venyabildt genes, but I can’t pretend that her sister’s tits aren’t sublime with or without their carnal coating.

Slurp, mlep, mlap, mwah.

‘Aah. He’s such a good–mhm–slut, Mistress.’ Morrigan gives her chest a wiggle, kind of reverse-motorboating me. Her sticky breasts practically batter my face, wonderfully warm and weighty. They slap my cheeks, produce an ear-tingling schfup, schfup, schfup as our bodies collide. ‘Such a dirty Master, loving my cow tits.’

‘Hurry up,’ Mistress says, tone sounding…bothered. But it’s not annoyance, as such. ‘Clean those fucking things faster.’

The faintest of a background sound, a schl-fap, schl-fap, schl-fap of messy masturbation, perfectly explains her discontent. I can only imagine how horny she is, to have gotten hard again so quickly, to be desiring nothing more than yet another release. Our afternoon, and now evening, has proven quite the unrelenting fuck-fest.

‘Mhmf. Mumph.’

‘Almost there,’ Morrigan says. ‘Aah.’

Slurp, mwah, slurp, smack, slurp, smooch.

I finish things up, getting the last of the wayward dollops of dick milk inside my mouth and for a few extended moments appreciating the texture of the gothic goddess’s skin, the way her areolas brush against my lips, the fierce firmness of her nipples which are so easy to suckle on. I can’t quite process my journey here, the distance between who I am now, what I am now, and what life was like before Freya Venyabildt.

Freya Venyabildt, who can’t delay things any longer. ‘Fuck it,’ she says, dropping to the floor behind me. ‘You take his mouth, cow tits. I give you permission. Little fucking tease.’

I suck in one of the most delectable breaths of my life, tasting the perverse perfume of the day. Sex smells and body smells, of deodorant and shower gels and cock juices and slick coochies and a hint of sweet feminine sweatiness. For just a moment more I’m in titty paradise, able to nurse on the older sister’s mammoth milkers, and then Mistress yanks hold of my arms just above the elbows and roughly pushes me forwards.

Morrigan’s arms move swiftly out of the way, letting her breasts sag a bit, but most importantly allowing my face to slip between and beneath them so that I’m nose-first against the plushness of her belly. Her throbbing cock pokes up at my collarbone as Freya forces me face-down, arse-up, exerting a demanding degree of strength in pursuit of her lusts.

‘M-istress!’

Schlop, schlock.

Her fat-headed cock rams against my sphincter, but now it’s her turn to tease, clearly. She presses the bulbous bell-end into that tight and sensitive place, her helmet plentifully lubed, and hopefully that slickness paired with the oozing of her precum is more than enough for Mistress to comfortably assert herself over her domain.

‘So I can call him slut, too, Mistress?’ Morrigan says, bringing her hands against the sides of my face. Delicate touch, silken skin, paired with a subtle but inescapable possessiveness.

‘Be my guest, cow tits.’ Schlop. Schluck. Mistress pokes at my rear, brushes her helmet around in a quick and crude circle. ‘Just make sure to put him in his place. Sexy little slut. Ugh.’

Freya jams her bell-end against my sphincter and pushes, getting the very tip of her tip wedged firmly in place. I try to glance back, to take in her beauty and the sensuality of her body, her face, but her gothic sister has too firm a hold on me. She keeps me facing her pale belly and steadily shuffles backwards, her cock leaving my collarbone and brushing against the underside of my jaw. Her loose foreskin is all that separates me from the stickiness of her helmet, that most carnal of kisses.

‘Thank you, Mistress. I’ll make very good use of your precious little slut.’ Morrigan brushes the sides of my face with her thumbs, a lustful humour edging her voice. ‘Can I make him tend to my balls first, before I pump a fat load in his mouth?’

Freya keeps herself on the very edge of entering me, halfway pushed inside of me but not yet completing the motion. ‘Sorry, who is the Mistress right now?’ she says, tone suggesting a roll of those beautiful blue eyes. ‘He can tend to your nuts when you’re hilted in his face, but not a moment before. This is my game, cow tits. Play along.’

‘Of course, Mistress. How rude of me,’ Morrigan says, faux-sheepish. ‘I’ll simply have to adhere to your suggestion…’

The gorgeous goth guides me downwards, urges me more like, and subtly shuffles herself backwards. My chin presses down against the top of her cock, which throbs fiercely, demanding attention. The sweet scent of her body, and the potency of her pseudo-feminine musk, inescapably fill my nostrils. I push out my lips a little, dragging them down the softness of her belly, shivering as my chin comes into contact with the fuzziness of her dark triangle of pubes.

There’s a long pause on Freya’s part, and I can only imagine that she’s watching with interest as her sister takes control of the oral side of our tantalising tryst. Morrigan’s erection might as well be prophetic in nature, the way it’s pulsating proudly against the underside of my jaw. It faintly curves against my outstretched neck, its head fiercely swollen where it comes to rest just below my collarbone. As if it’s mapping out its journey on the outside, before achieving it within.

I can barely breathe for the excitement, for being at the mercy of them both. The atmosphere of the room has clearly shifted, my position going from above the elder sister to now beneath her, beneath both of them, and it’s…it’s right where I want to be. Less worrisome, definitely, to be under the goth’s guidance than anything like in charge of her.

‘Faster, cow tits,’ Mistress says. ‘I like the show but I need to drain myself in my slut, so do this in your own time.’

‘I will,’ Morrigan says, gently stroking my cheeks. ‘I’ll do it plenty.’

She suddenly shifts backwards, dragging her helmet up against my neck, along it, over my Adam’s apple. It leaves a notable trail of stickiness, the glistening goo leaking from that giant glans marking me as it goes, further instilling the very real fate of my throat in the near future. To be stuffed, just like my arse is going to be. To be spit-roasted, between two futanari goddesses. I’ve dealt with both dicks before, but not like this.

‘Shit,’ I say, the word escaping so naturally.

It comes out right as the vampiric beauty’s big bell-end brushes up the front of my chin, halting half an inch from my lips. Gorgeous, just as she is. A very suckable tip for a very enticing erection, visibly swelling and shifting right before my face. Morrigan brings her hands up to the top of my head and I cling all the tighter to her hips, right as Mistress enters me properly.

Schlup-schlop, schlup-schlop.

The bodacious blonde’s big bronze dick spears me, its fat head readily parting my sphincter and sliding within, radiating heat and glory as it fills me out most excellently. My eyelids flutter and my back instinctively arches, further lifting my backside up for Freya to firmly take hold of me. She digs her fingers into me with erotic eagerness, massaging my buns and pushing inch after inch of her prick deep within.

‘Ughn. Fu–mhmf!’

Schlurp, schluck, slurp, schluck.

‘There we go,’ Morrigan says, all pleased with herself. ‘Aah. Whine around that, cocksucker.’

I moan, but it’s cut short. The heavy helmet ahead of me barges into my lips without delay, passingly straining the limits of my mouth with its hugeness. Salty precum floods my tastebuds as the big bell-end slides across my tongue, moving with energetic insistence towards the tight opening of my throat.

‘Mhm. So tight,’ Freya says, her cockhead such a noticeable presence inside me. Slap. She wallops my backside, the sting blending perfectly with the sweetness of her heat and hugeness. ‘Ugh. How’s that, slut? Lucky little you, taking two cocks at once.’

‘Mumph. Mhmf.’

Schlurp-slurp, schlup-plup, schlurp-slurp, schlup-plup.

They chuckle, carnal caramel on the ear. Two lovely voices almost in unison, both subtly strained with pleasure, taking great glee in turning me into some depository for their dicks. Mistress thrusts and then Morrigan does, alternating their timings. Thankfully the goth’s hips are plentifully fat, cushion to contend with the tight gripping of my fingers, holding onto her body for dear life.

I’m not sure which is harder to handle, but for drastically different reasons.

Mistress’s member is obviously in a part of me that’s more, uh, naturally capable of contending with its massiveness. It’s a path well-trodden, at this point, carnally conquered by her many, many times. Despite her thickness, despite the violent vigorousness of her throbbing and thrusting, her size itself isn’t an issue.

‘Ughn. Let me in,’ Morrigan says, poking at my throat. ‘Relax and let me–aah–in. Know your place, cocksucker.’

Freya’s big sister, on the other hand…well, as much as I’m lately practising a lot with my face and throat, her helmet is particularly prominent and my throat remains troublesomely tight. The bulk of her bell-end alone is such that it practically fills my mouth by itself, without starting on the following firmness of her proud pale shaft.

Schlup-slurp-glugp, schplup-plup-fup, schlup-schluck-glugp, schplup-fup-plup.

‘Mhmf. Mumph. Mhaah.’

Moaning, moaning, moaning. Mistress goes deeper, and Morrigan wedges the first third of her glans into the tightness of my throat, tickling my tonsils. My mouth is soaking, my arse a shuddering convulsion wrapped around the ridiculousness of the bronze beauty’s cock. That cock, which might just edge it in terms of difficulty, simply because my prostate is so fucking sensitive and Freya’s dick seems to be pretty much designed for ravaging it.

My own cock strains and aches, my balls swinging about beneath it with every fearsome thrust delivered by my dickgirl dominatrix. Little by little her big sister pushes that much further into my throat, doubtless causing my neck to bulge slightly with the impressiveness of her fat-headed cock. I hazard a glance up at Morrigan and find the most viciously voluptuous of smirks upon her lovely black-and-crimson lips, her real satisfaction showing in full force.

‘This was a–mhm–fantastic idea,’ Mistress says, giving my backside another slap. Smack.

She presses her hands against the backs of my hips and adjusts herself, applying a bit of her weight to my body as she lifts herself up to get a better angle on my arse. Throbbing fiercely, her cock slides that much deeper, its huge head alluringly noticeable as it plunges back and forth against my sensitive innards. My sphincter is stretched by her sizeable shaft, the monumental member being so girthy that I’m tight around it even without actively clenching.

Actively clenching being somewhat hard, given that at the front of things, I can’t really do much but hold tight while the gorgeous goth uses my face like a pocket pussy. The beautiful paleness of her form takes up all my world, wide hips and heavy breasts a paradise to pair with her prick. Her bulky bell-end pushes again and again at the opening of my throat, half of its thickness wedged into such a cramped space, but she grins viciously all the while. Morrigan could get on with it, but she’s taking a great deal of satisfaction in making me squirm.

Schlup-glugp, schlurp-glugp, schlup-glugp.

Schlplup-plup-thwap, schplup-plup-thwup, schplup-plup-thwap.

‘Mhmf. Mumph.’

Freya’s big balls begin slapping against mine, further enhancing my ecstasy. There’s something alluringly assertive about the weight of them, how they’re so much bigger and fatter than mine, highlighting further that disparity between our male parts. Her sister slides, at long last, properly into my throat, but continues to take great joy in withdrawing into my mouth only to plunge back into the depths. The result is an increasing sordidness to the sounds produced by her pumping.

I’m a shivering mess, my dick throbbing fiercely as it jiggles about between my legs, set into wobbling motion by the combined efforts of the two voluptuous Venyabildts and their vigorous ploughing of my juxtaposed holes. In heaven, certainly, but the pair might as well be succubi for their combination of endurance and endowment.

‘He’s built for this, that’s–aah–why,’ Morrigan says, playing with my hair. ‘He’s a very special thing, your Sweet Tom.’ I try to behold her face, but her impalement is becoming thorough enough that to look up is to find only the beautiful bouncing of her breasts. Moment by moment, the shorn velvet darkness of her pubes grows nearer. ‘Ah, but my–ughn–manners: thank you for letting me use him, Mistress. Mhm.’

Schlplup-plup-thwap, schplup-plup-thwup, schplup-plup-thwap.

Mistress chuckles, all lust and fire, pushing herself so deep into me that her hairy crotch brushes up against the top of my butt crack. Her heavy hangers are so welcome against my smaller nuts, their contents as ever craved beyond compare.

‘You’re welcome, cow tits. Ugh. He’s a good fuck, that’s for sure.’

Her voice falters in the finest of ways as she says the last bit, the dominant persona conflicting with the deep-seated affection she holds for me. Especially deep right now, given that she’s embedded up to the hilt inside her favourite person in all the world. But it’s the kind of little vocal distortion that makes my insides fuzzy as well as being a mess of dicks, and despite the vulgarity of things the veiled romantic parts drive me closer than ever to my climax.

‘A hungry–mhm–mouth, as well.’

Schlup-glugp-thwup, schlurp-glugp-thwap, schlup-glugp-thwup.

Morrigan swings her hips with increased urgency and the combination of that momentum along with the fact that I’ve got two-thirds of her throbbing titan occupying my mouth and throat results in her heavy nuts beginning to smack against my jaw. Despite her desire for such, I’m stretched too thin by the two of them to put my tongue to effective use in licking at her lovely loins. The alternating movements of the two – growing more aligned by the moment – means that at any given moment I’ve got big beautiful balls bouncing against one end of me or the other, their skin silken and their weight wonderful.

I shut my eyes and bask in it, as the fiery conflagration building around my crotch and backside creeps closer and closer to the moment of full and fantastic release. The vampiric beauty’s furry mound brushes at my nose and her nuts almost entirely enveloping the pointed portion of my chin, slapping sweetly against my skin.

All I can make sense of is dick, delicious and divine dick, filling me at both ends and utterly taming me, putting me in my rightful place between the two of them. The sense of heat, of being home, overwhelms those last ounces of resistance and suddenly I’m spurting, shooting my load upon Mistress’s bedroom floor, writhing in wickedly wanton glory beneath the titillation of the twin temptresses.

‘Mhugh. Mughn. Mhmf.’

They each proceed to hilt themselves within me and stay firmly wedged in place, stuffing my crack and my face with silky-soft pubes, throbbing away inside my throat and my bum. Not cumming, because their endurance is so much better, but giving me some brief interlude in which to enjoy the rawness of my climax without being further overwhelmed.

‘Good boy,’ Mistress says, stroking my hips, massaging my buttocks. ‘Cum for me. Let out all of that–ugh–slutty spunk.’

Morrigan says nothing, simply playing with my hair, but the delicate deftness of her touch is suggestive of much the same appreciative affection. She slips a hand down the back of my neck, brushing over the goosebumps, and strokes my upper back from shoulder to shoulder. Amazonian as they may be, virile and potent beyond any mortal man, my dickgirl demigoddesses are nonetheless every bit as in love with this situation as I am.

The respite is vital, in fact, because I’m not sure I’ve cum so hard before. It’s as if my whole body is some tectonic fault, quaking under the divine duress of being double-stuffed. There are no extra erogenous zones in use, but I really am, undeniably, a submissive slut. This is my element, my place, between the both of them. Beneath them, at their mercy, a toy in which to empty themselves. That passing notion, the fact that before long I’ll be taking two Venyabildt-grade ejaculations into me on opposite ends, being thoroughly loaded with my favourite of filthy substances, ensures that the psychological component in all of this burns exceedingly bright.

‘Mhm. Mhm-hm. Mhugh.’

‘I love how–aah–tight you get around me when you’re cumming,’ Freya says, squeezing my buns, one in each hand. ‘Your body knows its place.’

‘Men do, Mistress,’ Morrigan says. ‘Genevieve was wrong on a whole host of things, but–ughn–there’s no equal in joy to using a man like this. They crave cock, and who better to provide it than futanaris like us?’

Schlup-glugp-thwup, schlurp-glugp-thwap, schlup-glugp-thwup.

It’s the older sister who resumes her movements first, in the wake of that risqué remark. She pulls back and thrusts, pushing her crotch into my face, swinging her balls against my chin. In combination with the way she holds me, strokes me, I feel almost used, and it’s a perversely perfect sensation.

Her statement, as my nuts empty upon the floor, as she so easily glides her gargantuan shaft into and out of the deepest parts of my throat, seems wholly self-evident. No answer on my part could be more truth-affirming than the ongoing scene itself, my lucky male self skewered between the two fantastic futanaris.

Schlplup-plup-thwap, schplup-plup-thwup, schplup-plup-thwap.

Mistress follows suit, rapidly achieving her previous pace and sending ripples of glory through me, causing my body to shudder all the more as the combination of my continuing climax and the wonderful working of her womanly hips. For a long moment there’s a kind of dedicated quiet, the only sounds in the luxurious bedroom being the meatiness of our movements, the muffled moans my strained mouth lets out, the breathy exhalations of the seductive sisters as they use my body for their own ends.

Use me, yes, but my reward is a seemingly endless ejaculation, because for so long as Mistress continues to pump herself back and forth against my prostate, there’s no pause to the pulsations that surge out from it. If not for Morrigan’s cushioning hips upon which to hold, I’d probably fall forwards completely and utterly impale my face on the older sister’s dick.

‘Ughn.’ Freya grunts, her helmet swelling more prominently. ‘I don’t think I’ll be all too long, now. You’re r-ight, cow tits. You’re so fucking right.’

The pale beauty chuckles. ‘Of course, Mistress. One of my better qualities, understanding sluts like Sweet Tom.’ She digs her fingers into the back of head, knotting clumps of hair between them as best she can. ‘I think I’ll–aahn–reward him with something to swallow. If that’s okay with you, Mistress?’

‘Mhm-hm. Go for it.’ Smack. Freya wallops my butt again, and the sting of pain only enhances the pleasure. ‘But you’ll have to–ugh–hold on. I’m cumming first.’

Schlplup-plup-thwap, schplup-plup-thwup, schplup-plup-thwap.

Mistress picks up her pace, applying more of her weight atop me, hands again pressing down on the backs of my hips. Her nuts slam and smack against my own, working in unison with her colossal cock to thoroughly milk me of every last sperm, and all the while her length seems to swell thicker and more impressive. Her breathing quickens, becomes frenetic, and my thoughts turn hungrily towards the double-dose of dickgirl deliciousness I’m soon to find myself stuffed with.

Morrigan slows her pace, clearly appreciating the sight of her little sister pushing powerfully towards the finish line. A luxury I can’t partake of, though I’m the lucky bastard who gets to experience the body-shattering pleasure delivered by the mighty motions of Freya’s tremendous dick.

Schlplup-plup-thwap, schplup-plup-thwup, schplup-plup-thwap.

‘Argh. God, you’re such a fucking–mhm–sexy little slut, Tom,’ Mistress says, her bulky balls battering against mine, the fronts of her thighs smacking again and again against my cheeks. ‘I’m going to–guh–fill you with so much–ughn–fucking c-um.’

As she nears her climax, every piston-pumping of her body against and into mine, Morrigan subtly shifts herself backwards, sliding out of my throat. She sits comfortably back on her calves, and I chance a look up at her, finding such blissful happiness in those icy blue eyes. Her fat helmet glides back across my tongue, throbbing fiercely as she brings it all the way back against my lips. I’m forced to widen them further as the thick rear crest of her bell-end pulls against them, an act of illicit intent: the lining up of her eyelet with the blade of my tongue.

‘You know what I want, Sweet Tom.’ The gorgeous goth smiles at me, eyelids fluttering faintly with every schplup-plup and thwap-thwup of her sister’s energetic efforts. ‘I know you want it, too. Suck it out. Suck it all out. Ooh. Yes. G-ood boy.’

Schlup, slurp, schlup, slurp.

Schlplup-plup-thwap, schplup-plup-thwup, schplup-plup-thwap.

As Mistress continues to ravage my rear with such potent strokes, slamming herself up to the hilt and drawing back only to repeat it time after time, growing that much more frantic in her throbbing as she persists, I put my mouth to good use and pleasure her elder sister with the hollowing-out of my cheeks and the titillating twisting of my tongue against the opening of her helmet to ensure a big delivery of her body’s most sacred and intimate of substances.

‘Guh. Fuck, I’m…I’m going to…’

Schplup-plup-THWAP.

My back arches reflexively as the bronze-skinned beauty pushes herself balls-deep into me, her nuts ringing resoundingly against my own where they ripple and shiver on the cusp of dispensing a tremendous quantity of Venyabildt pride inside me. As they settle into a rising-falling quiver against me, her throbbing thickness bucks and strains, and Freya digs her fingers into my hips.

‘Ughn. Mhm. Good slut.’

The eruption of molten heat arrives in the most fantastical of fashions, leaving me wide-eyed in satisfaction as I continue to slurp and suckle on Morrigan’s bell-end. Every dense rope and splattering string is noticeable, obvious, filling me with intense heat and a perverse notion of being claimed, filled, marked, conquered. So familiar a feeling and yet no less profound than it was the very first time, so naturally attuned to my lusts.

Schplup, schplup, schplup.

Mistress grinds against me, milks herself into me, wringing out every dense globule of creamy cum she can muster. Her nuts shiver and shudder, rise and fall against my own. All the while, by some impressive resilience on my part, I manage to suck, and nurse, and tend to her big sister’s proudly plump helmet where it stuffs the entrance to my mouth.

‘Ughn. That’s it. That’s–ugh–it.’

Slurp, schlurp, schlup, schlurp.

The bronze-skinned blonde trembles and bucks, erupting into me, splattering the walls of my rear with the thick produce of her loins. It just keeps coming, a seemingly unending torrent of titillating gooiness that heightens the heavenliness bestowed upon my backside by her massive and magnificent presence.

‘Ugh. Fuck yeah. Aahn. Take that–guh–load.’

Freya’s groaning pairs with the slow massaging motions of her hands against my hips and buttocks, her efforts erratic and inconsistent and thankfully leaving me with just enough capacity to continue servicing her sister.

Schlup, slurp, schlup, slurp.

‘Mhmf. Mumph.’

As one Venyabildt empties herself deep within me, the other grows closer and closer to her climax as I moan around her more-than-a-mouthful bell-end. Morrigan winces a little, strains, makes sweet and sultry faces as the pleasure builds and builds and builds. She continues to tussle my hair with her fingertips, maintaining some veiled degree of control that makes rolling my tongue around her beefy helmet and sucking feistily on her cock all the more satisfying.

‘Aah. Almost there,’ Morrigan says. ‘Just…a…little…’

‘Just fucking cum, cow tits!’

Schplup-PLUP.

Mistress gives one sudden final thrust, knocking me forwards and adding just enough momentum to send her sister over the edge. The gorgeous goth sucks in a sharp breath and bucks her hips, helmet growing immediately firmer as it pumps out the first dense shot of dick milk straight across my waiting tongue.

‘Ugh. Mhm.’

Schlurp, slurp, slurp, schlup.

Morrigan moans contentedly as her load splatters my tastebuds, viscous like jelly in the ropier parts, some filthy reminder of her virility. It’s salty and tangy, overwhelmingly vulgar, a distinctly sexual flavour compared to the sweeter creamier qualities of her sister’s cum. It readily conquers my mouth, a series of sizeable spurts that fill my face-hole to the utter limit.

I’m forced to promptly swallow, because there’s just too much. By itself, without Freya’s assault on my anus, I might be able to manage somehow, but everything is a little too overwhelming. It’s not as if it matters, hugely, as Mistress’s big sister is so startlingly virile that savouring is practically a reflexive activity when it comes to her spooge.

‘Such a good little–ughn–cumslut,’ Morrigan says.

‘Isn’t he just?’ Smack. Freya gives me an assertive spank across the tops of my buns, straightening herself up and seeming to have passed the most intense part of her climax. She lets out a sweet little yawn, so peaceful compared to the battleground that is my mouth. ‘I don’t recall having had a better day than this. It’s really taken it out of me.’

Mistress keeps hold of my hips while the last pleasurable pulses ripple out of her dick, which is notably softer than the giant glans in my mouth, erupting like a volcano. Morrigan smiles at her sister, ignoring me, despite the fact that she’s borderline impregnating my mouth.

‘We’ll join you on the bed, Mistress. I feel I might be–ooh–a touch drained as well, after this.’

Given that I can barely keep my own eyes open as the pale-eyed beauty looks down at me, smirking smugly, I’m in full agreement. Another mouthful and a half goes down into my belly, leaving everything rich with Morrigan’s moreish flavour, distinctive and delicious on account of its erotic intensity.

‘I’ll stay inside him,’ Freya says. ‘You just finish up. He’s a nice little cockwarmer. Very snug.’

‘Mhmf. Mhm.’

Mistress chuckles warmly at my face-filled agreement, the muffled sound nonetheless loud enough to get the point across. She strokes the dip of my back and I can easily imagine her watching me with great interest, deeply approving of my role as the on-call slut for both sisters.

The gorgeous goth’s payload shrinks in quantity as I gulp it down, a rolling sticky warmth that glazes my throat all the way to my belly, ensuring that both ends of me are utterly blessed by the beautiful sisters. Morrigan starts to slowly soften, while the aftershock of my powerful orgasm leaves a clenching that sustains a certain sturdiness in her little sister. When the elder Venyabildt draws back, freeing her cum-drained cock from my lips, it comes away without a hint of remaining jism. Sucked wholly dry, and left sensually sated.

‘Good boy,’ she says, patting my head, and relaxing onto her calves. Morrigan looks to Freya, a definite calmness oozing about her. ‘To the bed, Mistress? Shall I help you lift him?’

‘Oh, I’m quite able,’ Mistress says, dipping forwards. Her heavenly breasts push against my back, the plush humidity of them furthering the lingering loveliness gifted to me by her prostate pummelling. She slides her hands across my chest and gets a firm grip of me underneath my armpits, putting to good use that Amazonian physique I so adore.

Mwah. Smooch. Freya kisses my throat as she hoists me up, keeping her slightly softened cock wedged within me to prevent any sudden leakage. All I can do is smile a big idiotic grin, ear to ear, which Morrigan clearly finds hilarious given the strength of her smirk.

‘Come on, cow tits. I want those fat fuckers in my face.’

‘As you say, Mistress.’

Mistress keeps hold of me right up to the moment she flops us down on the bed, spooning me from behind, making good use of my relative shortness for when her sister joins us. The gorgeous goth lays herself on her side to my front, positioning herself so that Freya gets a faceful of marvellous mammaries to enjoy while the warm crush between them ensures that sleep dawns on me thick and fast.

Schlup, slurp, mwah, schlup.

‘Ooh, Mistress!’

‘Mhm. Mhmf.’

Their incestuous play surrounds me, and the sensation of warmth within – two heavy loads, filling me up wonderfully – pairs with the fading ripples of my climax. Caught between their sensual and sweet smells, the softness of their skin against me on both sides, it’s no wonder that my eyes fall shut. Just to rest them, of course.

Just for a little while.