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Surrogate 10
🕑 Added 2024-03-03 15:36:47 +0000 UTCChapter Ten:
Everything changed for Jean now that she had submitted to Michael. They had sex regularly, but it felt different. They fucked less than they used to, though they still fucked often. When they didn’t fuck, Michael focused on what felt like training. Every day, he taught her something new or pushed some old boundary. Sometimes, he outright abused her, and though it hurt her to be treated this way, she also found freedom in letting go of her pride and indulging in her basest desires.
Within a few weeks, it felt almost like dating except for the imbalance in power. Jean and Brad had been roughly equal when they first met, but Jean and Michael were never equal and would never be equal. She was far more committed to him than he was to her, and sometimes it felt more like worship to her than anything else. At the end of the day, all that mattered was that she kept Michael happy.
She began shaving for him because he made it clear that he expected a smooth pussy, and she scheduled an appointment to just get herself waxed while saving up for laser hair removal. She wore what he wanted and wore nothing if he asked for that, too, and she licked him and tasted him wherever he pleased. She was his slave, and the subtle swell of her belly did nothing to satisfy him. He pushed her, and he asked for more, and she was honestly impressed by how direct he was with her.
On the afternoon that she got waxed, she came home early from work and was happy to find Michael’s truck waiting. She entered her house feeling giddy and passed Brad. It didn’t occur to her that he was home early, too. In fact, she never knew when he came or went anymore. Michael was all that was on her mind.
Brad tried to speak with her, but she walked by him without even looking at him. Now that she was pregnant, she had a time limit on how long Michael could use her before she was too far along, and she saw no reason and had no interest in wasting her time with her cuckold’s complaints when she could be getting rammed in one of her holes.
Michael was waiting for her on the bed. He was naked, with his flabby body look enormous and blubbery as he filled the mattress. Anything potentially unattractive about him was offset by the beauty of his big, fat cock. His balls were heavy between his fat, hairy thighs, and he regarded her with a crooked grin as she entered the room.
“Hey there, slut. You’re home early.”
Jean giggled in response. If Brad had ever called her a slut, she would have slapped him across the face. It felt good to hear it from Michael, however. She dropped her bag beside the bed and said, “I left work early. I have something to show you.” She undid the top button on her jeans and added, “Close your eyes. I want to surprise you!”
Michael stroked himself with his eyes closed. He lounged on her bed like he owned it, and from the way he used her, he may as well have. His dick was gargantuan already and heavy against his fat, bloated belly. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was Jean removing her top and rubbing her small, supple breasts and teasing her long, stiff nipples. She shimmied out of her pants and rubbed her smooth vulva lightly. It was still tender, but it felt soft without the hair there. Moisture gathered on her fingertips while she touched herself, and she snuck over to the side of the bed and took him by his free hand before guiding his thick fingers to her waiting folds.
“Here,” she whispered, and she eases two of his fingers into her. Compared to his cock, his fingers were small. Compared to Brad, every part of Michael was bigger, better, and welcome. She moaned as she opened to him, and she smiled as he hooked his fingers inside of her. “This is my gift to you, Michael!!”
Michael opened his eyes and pulled her closer by her pussy. “Smooth,” he said, and he thumbed her vulva as he stroked himself. “Looks like you finally got yourself taken care of.” He examined her closely and laughed. “No more pussy hair at all?”
Jean smiled and ground herself against his fingers. He found her clit and thumbed it, and though she didn’t come, she did reach the very edge of an orgasm and sit on it while her body quaked around him. “I went and got myself waxed for you,” she whispered. Her voice was bare and needy. She opened her eyes and stared at him as she held him knuckle deep inside of her, and she moaned, “I thought you would like it.”
“I more than like it,” he told her, and he released his cock to seize her by the hips and drag her to him. Jean fell onto the bed with him and expected to be fucked. Instead, he lifted her by her underarms and held her in the air with his big, powerful arms and slapped his fat jowls up against her smooth pussy. Jean gasped and squealed in delight as he buried his face into her vulva and began tonguing her.
Jean tightened her thighs around Michael’s head as a sudden and powerful orgasm seized her. He had barely touched her when a river of pleasure wetted his cheeks and his mouth. Then he pinned her beneath his big body and held her by the hips as he pulled her wetted cleft up against him to eat her. He was sloppy with her and drank from her like a dog might from a watering dish, but his aimless movements were offset by the passion he showed. She had groomed herself for him, and now he was rewarding her for her good behavior. He did not have to do so. She did it of her own volition, but the appreciation endeared her, and the acknowledgment of her good behavior aroused her.
She cupped his head and held him to her, and Michael paused only briefly to stare up her body and smile at her before he continued. He ate her to another quick and messy orgasm, and his fat cheeks were shiny with her rapture by the time he stopped. He growled like an animal into her, and she ground herself against him and felt his stubble tickling her privates as she did. “Yes, Michael! Yes! That’s it! Eat me, Michael! Eat me!”
Brad could hear them downstairs and knew by the sounds of it what was happening. Jean planted her feet beside Michael’s elbows and raised her hips against his tongue as she wailed. His strong, rough hands were squeezing her ass hard as she clawed his shoulders and hugged him to her crotch. Shortly after, Michael was above her, and she hugging him around his midsection as he lined up to enter her.
Michael had done the work of prepping her this time, and she opened for him and welcomed him with comparative ease. She remained tight around him. His size made sure of that, but it felt better now that she was accustomed to him. Her body had been opened for him after weeks of effort, and now she was reshaped and forcefully molded for his use. She wrapped her legs around him and smiled as he fell into her with a hard, deep stroke, and he shook the bed with his uncaring need.
Jean came hard around him and stared him in the eyes as she moaned his name. Then, she laughed breathlessly while he moved inside of her. His fat belly crashed into her with the force of a tidal wave on each stroke, and he nearly suffocated her by cupping his arms under her and clutching her head to his blubbery chest. She lifted her head and kissed him, and he gagged her with his fat tongue and viscous saliva. Every part of her was full of him, and she loved it.
He slurped out of her mouth and clutched her head tight by the hair. Then, he whispered into her ear, “You’re a nasty, thoughtless slut only good for fucking, aren’t you?” Lifting himself, he kissed her again, and she sucked his tongue as he dangled it into her mouth. It was a struggle to breathe with his heavy body above her, but there was nowhere else she would rather be. Sex with Brad was never this good, and it could never be this good. She needed Michael now. That was why she waxed herself for him. He had taken her, and she had given herself to him in response. Submission was a small price to pay for this.
She thought about what happened and almost burst into laughter. Michael had been burrowing into her for a week and pouring so much cum into her that she felt like she might drown from the inside. It was impossible that she wasn’t pregnant by him, but she was still opening herself up to him. It was just proof of his ownership. She was not breeding with him, but she was a breeder for him. Looking back, she wondered if that was Michael’s plan from the start. If she had known, she likely wouldn’t have agreed, and that would have been the biggest loss of her life. Now, she wanted to raise Michael’s child for him more than she wanted to raise a child with Brad. For her, Michael was what mattered most, not her marriage.
Buried beneath his enormity and struggling to drink his excess spit, Jean clung to Michael like he was a life raft keeping her from being swallowed under the stormy sea. Each deep thrust forced the air from her as his heavy body flattened her into her bed, and yet she hugged him and urged him into her. She pulled him deeper and wanted nothing more than to be taken by him and have him inside of her. She craved him with thoughtless urgency, and she came on him repeatedly to the point where she could no longer think of anything but him.
Children didn’t really matter to her and neither did building a family. Those ships had sailed and were now lost in the sea that only Michael could save her from. He used her, and that is all she really wanted. Being bred by him was a function of that use. She was a receptacle for his semen and a tool for his pleasure, and she loved it. The reality of it made her moan into his mouth, and her moans turned to whined as he swelled and quickened inside of her. It would happen soon. His orgasm was coming, and she was excited to bring him to completion.
“Seed me,” she told him, and she sucked his lips and slobbered against his cheek. “Fuck me and seed me, Michael. Use me! Break me! Fuck! Agh!!! Yes!!! YES!!!!”
Michael bellowed and came, and he held himself deep inside of her and crushed her rear in his big hands as he unloaded in her. As always, his orgasms were impossibly large. Jean felt her insides balloon around him and savored the heat that surged through her. Pleasure danced up her spine and fizzed like soap bubbles popping. She cried in pleasure, in pain and in rapture, and Michael tongued her mouth until they were both breathless and dribbling.
It was difficult to breathe once the adrenaline wore off. Michael felt good inside of her, but his big body was still suffocating her from outside. Nonetheless, Jean was happy there. She felt light-headed and giddy, and she giggled girlishly beneath him and showered his flabby form with kisses. Brad was not a small man, but he was dwarfed beside Michael, and because of that, her love for Brad diminished each time Michael’s fat cock slammed hard against her weakening cervix.
It took time, but Michael eventually recovered enough to roll off of Jean, but Jean still felt heavy once he was gone. She looked at him, and she smiled. To her, Michael was no longer the fat slob she had met on that first day. Each rough fuck had chipped away as her resentment, and now he was her ideal man. She was too tired to sit up, but she wanted to be close to him. She could imagine his limp cock, slick between his hairy thighs, and she wanted to clean him.
She took his big hand and hooked her slender fingers between his. He looked at her, and she was briefly afraid of rejection until he smiled at her. He removed his hand from hers and sat up to look at her. He was unsteady and dizzy like she was, but his wet cock slapped down, spent, on her thigh. Then, he climbed onto his knees with a laborious grunt and held himself to her face. “Sorry, but I don’t hold hands with cattle.”
It was the worst thing anyone had ever said to her, but Jean took it as a compliment since it came from Michael. She lifted herself on her elbows and sucked him into her mouth, and she stared him in the eyes as she cleaned him. She was cattle to him, to be bred and used. She was meat, and all she could do was worship him while he laughed.
He held her by the head and fed her his cock, and he fucked her mouth until he was hard again. Jean was tired, but she smiled in genuine delight to see him come back. He wagged his enormity at her, and she found her second wind in his testicles as she slurped him. “Should I have Brad start supper,” she asked, and Michael fell down beside her and held himself steady for her. She climbed onto him.
“Later,” he told her, and he cupped one of her breasts and smiled as she eased onto him. “Right now, I need to nut again.”
