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Doom Story Update
🕑 Added 2024-12-10 06:48:55 +0000 UTC2k words
***
“My mouth is far too good for your mortal flesh,” Sharrya said. “But I can think of a far better substitute.”
She reached down to her sling, gripping the underside of her makeshift bra. She peeled the leather fabric away, pausing with an enticing layer of underboob exposed, making sure Andreas was watching. The sling was straining against her bosom, making him wonder how it managed to contain her assets in the first place.
She raised it higher, two pink nipples coming into view, gravity forcing the rest of her boobs to spill free. They were bigger than volleyballs, the same shade of deep red like the rest of her. They squashed against his knees as she settled below his waist, Andreas feeling their softness through the fabric of his pants. They were as supple as jelly, and he felt the sudden urge to reach down to touch them, but his restraints put a halt to such impulses.
“My eyes are up here, Andreas,” Sharrya chuckled. “I see that even in this part of the Cosmos, males find them infatuating.”
“That’s cause they’re bigger than my fucking head, asshole,” he shot back. “How you haven’t done in your back is anyone’s guess.”
Her laughter made his chest shake, the demon moving down until her breasts were suspended over his lap. She gripped her boobs in her hands, her flesh spilling between her digits, spreading her cleavage wide.
She brought her chest down, Andreas eliciting a grunt as his member was consumed between the orbs of fat, Sharrya closing her cleavage together from either side. Like the rest of her skin, she was hot to the touch, but far softer than he would have believed, grazing his rod with all the delicacy of gelatine.
Andreas couldn’t see his cock, Sharrya’s breasts large enough to obscure it within its heated confines. Her assets conformed tightly to his genitals, conforming to his shape like a heavenly mould.
His mind was convinced it had been plunged into the heated loins of a lover, Andreas’ hips lifting in a desperate thrust. Her firm flesh quivered with the impact, their heavy weight meaning Sharrya barely moved an inch.
“Look at you squirm,” Sharrya cooed, rewarding him by squeezing her chest with her biceps, her flesh constricting around him. “Even in defeat I am capable of outmatching you.”
Sharrya bundled her chest in her arms, raising it up, then letting it fall down with a loud clap of flesh. It felt like an anvil had landed in his lap, Andreas lurching as he was assaulted by blissful tightness from all sides.
He strained against the cuffs as Sharrya began to rub her chest against him, pushing one forward while pulling the other back, alternating their directions to keep him guessing. It felt like she was crushing his member, but in a good way, his legs bucking against her stomach as he writhed on the floor, a notion that seemed to amuse the demoness without pause.
“Is my demonic heat too much for you to bear?” Sharrya asked, noting the beads of sweat on his brow. “Perhaps I know of a way to cool you down.”
Andreas watched as Sharrya turned her gaze to his member, licking her lips like a hungry wolf. He tracked a bead of her spit drooping from her tongue, the fluid landing on the top of her cleavage. He felt the cool strand touch his glans shortly after it disappeared, Sharrya opening her mouth wide to let more cascade between her boobs. It wasn’t long before her drool created a bubbling seal around his cock, its cool texture colliding with the exuberant heat coming off her.
Now each time she manoeuvred her chest, a wet squelching noise followed, the added lubricant making him slide against her delicate skin. Grinning, she wrapped an arm over his hips, copping a handful of his bum as she pulled him deeper.
From there she found a slow, heavy pace, switching between bouncing on his lap and swirling her flesh around him, Andreas forgetting where and who he was as he leaned back, relaxing into the blissful sensations. But couldn’t stop bucking up into her, but with all the restraints on his limbs, it was the only thing he could do in this compromising position.
Being shackled was like being hooked up to an electrical current, his frustration at being unable to move only matched by the new heights of pleasure he was reaching. So much stimulation was happening at once that his mind couldn’t keep tabs on it all.
“I take back what I said,” Sharrya suddenly said. “I wish to test your limits, Andreas. I’d tell you to hold on, but in your condition…”
She let her sentence linger, and just when he thought she’d finish it, she leaned down, and pushed her chest lower, his sensitive glans popping free of her bust. Sharrya wasted no time in sealing her pillowy lips around his foreskin, her tusks brushing his pubic hair. His eyes rolled back as her soft tongue lashed his flesh witch quick flurries, her movements similar to when she had subjected him to that overpowering kiss.
The Baroness bent lower, taking his glans into her mouth, sliding down until half his length was sealed within her mouth. Her lips tightened in a ring, her tongue snaking out to constrict his head in a vice of soft flesh. Her breasts provided no resistance to her plunging snout, Sharrya keeping a tight hold on them as she lapped at the underside of his cock like she was licking a popsicle.
All Andreas could do was writhe below her bulk, and even then her weight made that difficult, the Seargent loosing a moan he had never made before in his life. Sharrya was just as startled, quirking a brow at him from above his crotch, her questioning look making him blush.
She began to cackle around his length, her deep, feminine voice working into what felt like every bone in his body. She resumed clapping her breasts over him again, simulating the feeling of a bouncing vagina, her tongue continuing to swirl and lap. It was too many sensations all at once, Andreas would go crazy if she kept his up for any longer.
“I may have to start calling you morsel again,” Sharrya laughed, pausing between licks to speak. “I want you to come for me, sweet Andreas, I wish to taste the essence of your offspring.”
He could feel his climax working its way to the forefront of his frazzled mind, Andreas too overwhelmed by it all to resist it. As much as he felt like he was being driven mad, there was a loud voice in his head pleading that this pleasure would never end, and he very nearly voiced this plea to Sharrya, but he stopped himself. That would be basically admitting defeat to her little game, and he’d die before letting that happen.
His oncoming orgasm first lingered, then flashed forward, Andreas tensing in preparation. Sharrya licked, twisted her bosom, bounced on his lap, but her eyes, those two glowing green fires never left his face, and they were so full of a domineering energy that they seemed to draw him in. Her gaze was full of hunger, but he swore he could see affection there. Why was that? Why was she giving him such glorious head and enjoying it, when the deal was to satisfy her needs? Maybe she really was trying to be his lover, and the doubt he felt in response to that disturbed him in its uncertainty.
All the muscles in his waist tensed, his hips pushing forward as though the bosom enveloping him was as welcoming as a womb, his length throbbing against her flesh. Sharrya’s eyes widened in alarm as the first wad of his ejaculate surged forth, splattering a rope of the pearly fluid across her snout.
She seemed to know what was happening, Sharrya compressing her tits tighter, and returning her soft lips to his glans. The next rope of his seed splashed against the roof of her mouth, all the soft, surrounding tightness seeming to force out his next emission. He contorted impotently against the floor as waves of euphoria reduced him to a panting mess.
Sharrya swallowed around him, over and over as if she had no lung capacity, the suction milking out another rope and another harsh pang of pleasure. It just wouldn’t stop. Each time his nerves dialled down, Sharrya would summon up another rope, filling the cell with her swallowing as she drank down everything he could give her.
What felt like hours passed before his dazing vision began to clear, and his erection jumped one last time, leaving him sore and satisfied. He looked down to see Sharrya smirking around his dick, beads of her spit and his fluids dripping down her chin to leave a mess on her cleavage.
“Such raw energy,” Sharrya moaned, a carnal look on her face as she wet her lips, using its long length to clean her features. “I feel as though I have feasted on a dozen souls…”
Making sure he was looking, she released her hold on her breasts, the orbs returning to their natural pert, teardrop shape. The inner sides were matted with his come, ropes of it bridging the two together, one breaking to fall to his belly.
“A little bit of tongue, and you’re on your back, panting,” Sharrya mused. “So easy.”
He watched her long tongue snake down, beginning to clean up his essence from her chest. She was like a drowning woman licking at droplets of dew, Andreas sensing a kind of desperation as she lapped up his essence, as she called it.
“If only I had done this to you earlier,” she mused, smacking her lips and releasing a refreshed ‘ah’. “Victory would surely have been mine.”
“B-But it’s not,” he breathed, trying to regain his senses. “You’re still a prisoner to us lowly mortals, that hasn’t changed.”
“Are you so sure about that? I could do anything I want with you right now, and you’d be hopeless to stop me.”
Her hindquarters rose up as she moved away a little, his length bouncing against her snout as she rested her chin on his thigh. She reached out, seizing him in her burning hand, his receding erection jumping in response.
“Maybe I should make you come in my hand next,” she mused, and despite having just climaxed, after a few pumps of her hand, he was already masting. “Have your essence link my fingers, over and over until you went mad with the pleasure. The great Seargent Andreas, reduced to a slave of my claws. And you’d enjoy every moment of it.”
Her gyrating hand slowed, Sharrya huffing like a bull.
“But devouring you like that would be boring, as well as detrimental. I have grown tired of slaves, although I won’t deny how satisfying it is in seeing you struggle.”
“Gloat all you want, I still beat you on the field.”
“And is what we are doing now not a fight of its own? Cling to the past all you want, Andreas, but you’re the one who has finished first.”
“If I wasn’t in these cuffs, that’d be a different story.”
“Oh?” she asked, shimmying up his body, resting her knees beneath his armpits as she mounted him. Her loincloth draped over his thighs, her hidden genitals coming tantalisingly close to his. “How bold. You think you can satisfy me?”
“That’s up to you to find out.”
She considered him for a long moment. “You will touch me, correct?” she asked, anticipation swimming in her eyes.
“How else could I get you back, you idiot?”
She giggled like a kid on Christmas morning, struggling to contain her excitement as she reached for his restraints, Andreas liking that expression on her. She bent over him, her breats dnalging over his face as she grabbed his wrists, bringing her claw to the keypad.
