Chapter 5

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An hour later she was back at work; it was after hours, but Miles’s light was on and she knew he was still there.

She stopped in the bathroom on the way there, already a bit nostalgic for the cums she’d had earlier. But she knew, already, that all her cums would be office cums from now on.

She hardly recognized herself in the bathroom mirror.

When the day began—when the madness of actually trying to quit this dream job where she could suckleslurpworship the Cock of the Man she Worshiped All. Day. Long had taken hold of her—Delilah had classified as “Truly Pretty.”

She was the kind of girl that men saw and dreamed about taking home to Mom. The kind of girl who, in jeans and a jersey, could melt a heart at a local sportsball game. The kind of girl that got hit on at bars if she wasn’t alone, who looked hot enough for men to want to see her naked but friendly enough to make them think they actually could get with her.

Now, though?

Now, Delilah categorized only as “Spectacular.” “Surface of the Sun Hot.” “Mind-Meltingly Gorgeous.”

Delilah looked at her reflection and saw looking back at her a being who existed Purely to Make Cocks Painfully Hard and Loved everything about it.

Miles’s Cock was magic and she was completely and utterly right to Worship it. Its magic had stuck to her, infiltrated her, corrupted her, changed her. She was so fucking glad she had submitted to it; its power was so overwhelming that the thought of actually trying to stand up to it—or it even thinking that she was trying such a foolish idea—filled her with dread.

But she didn’t have to be filled with dread. All she had to be filled with from now on for the rest of her gorgeous, cock-pleasing life was Cock, Cock, Cock.

She wore the same outfit as before; but now she fucking rocked it. Her body’s exaggerated proportions were now what clothing designers drew as ideal; she might as well have been a pair of tits on sticks. Her legs had grown several inches, long thighs leading into supple calves that balanced so easily in her ultra-high heels that she might have been practicing gymnastics in them for her entire life.

She had, for funsies, done a few cartwheels in the parking lot in her six-inch heels. There was ice on the ground; she had no trouble with balance whatsoever.

Abdomen muscles had grown and hardened, gifting her with an utterly flat fatless belly that displayed the latest in crushing hip and pelvic bone aesthetics. Her clavicles pushed forward and together, almost forming their own kind of understated, shiny cleavage above the hefty display of her brilliant new tits.

And what tits they were. Her breasts, formerly perfectly respectable B cups, had jiggled their way into blouse-spilling D cups that felt like even more would be on the way soon. They felt full of milk; Delilah hoped they were.

She had a fervent, feverish fantasy of sucking Miles’s Cock with milk spilling out of her tits and covering his Cock with her saliva and tit milk at the same time so that some other Favored soul—Mona perhaps—would be able to lick up all her sweet liquids off Daddy’s amazingly hard Perfect Eternal Cock.

Her face and hair had changed also; they took her from the “Possible Porn Star” potential of her new rocking bod to “Goddess on Earth” status. Her bafflingly beautiful blue eyes blazed like twin neophyte suns; her cheekbones sported such devastating curvature that they send reverberations through the spacetime continuum and probably gave ancient sculptors second thoughts about their masterpieces.

The thick line of her hair rose inches above her head, adding more height onto her already considerable frame, and all of silky smooth chestnut mane was free of tangles and soft as liquid. It draped down to the curve of her tight, bubble-butt. Every part of her screamed delightful femininity.

Delilah bit a lip, looking at herself, needing to cum just from her own reflection, and then strutted off toward Miles office. On the way, she sent a text that she had written earlier, smiling at the gift she was about to give herself and Miles.

Polite knocking at Miles’s door and then waiting to be told to Enter. It was Important—so Important—to follow directions.

Especially from Him.

“Yes?” she heard his voice. “Come on in.”

She entered, heart swelling when she saw him. He sat at his desk, examining a stack of print-outs. Warm, fresh heat gathering in the underside of her throat, needing to taste him there, to feel His Bulge pushing her flesh around as it pleased.

Ungh.

“Delilah?” he asked, in that thrilling, hot, low voice of his. “What’s this about? Say, you look sharp, babe.”

Ungh again. The compliment drove all conscious thought out of her like horses before a chariot.

Halfway to his desk, she felt an uncontrollable urge to drop to her knees. Down she went, crawling the rest of the way, hips swaying, drool gathering in her mouth and spilling down her lips. Hands ripping at her blouse, tearing it away until the other thing left on her tight torso was her delectably hot push-up bra.

That blouse had cost more than half a month's paycheck. She didn't care. Only him looking at her tits mattered.

“Damn,” he said. “Look. At. You.”

Yes. Look at me look at me want me want me LOOK at Me, Daddy please!

Quickly she poured her arms and head into his lap. Moaning. Cooing against his shaft. Lips rubbing against the outline of his bulge beneath his pants. Her Near-Cum High took over the preciously small real estate of her mind, crowding all rationality and logical function. She existed as a Sexual Engine, a being of pure heat and need.

“Please don’t fire me, Sir,” she moaned. “I Know you were going to.”

He took her head in his hand, stroking her. Petting her like a kitten. She purred and giggled and bit her lip and stared up at him with eager blue eyes.

“You were the one who threatened to quit, Delilah.”

“And you would have fired me for it!” She stared up at him like she knew that she should. Good girls stared up at Men; Men with Cocks like Miles were so fucking important. “Please. Don’t.”

Her lips continued to press firmly against his bulge, pushing up and down. Her tongue tasting his precum as it soaked through his pants. It barely registered with her that she turned him on—Miles was always Turned On; his Cock was Always On. It was The Cock; it was Hard and Ready, always.

“You want to keep your job now?”

“Please.”

He began to unzip. The smell of the source of his musk—his MuskSource, his Source, His Cock, The Cock—unraveled her. She came immediately, legs thrashing against his desk, mouth pressing firmly against bulge and thigh and knee as she moaned his name and came.

The orgasm felt like it lasted for hours, her reality unwrapping itself as she stared up at Miles and felt urgent dark cosmic forces of worship, love, and adoration sinking ever deeper into her soul. She felt like she was flying with only the fact of His Cock keeping her on the ground.

After several days of this unending pleasure, her body and brain rewiring themselves to His Circuitry, she realized he had only just reached the bottom point of his zipper, and only just began to unleash His Cock from their container in his pants.

Several cums passed; it might have been ten thousand years in Delilah’s newly fucked up world. Time became a kind of rumor that she had heard about in grade school; something better to forget all understanding of. She felt decades fly by in seconds.

A drop of hot, needy drool fell from her lips to the top of her perfect heavy tits over the period of centuries. And all that time, looking at His Cock, his Beautifully Hard Cock, its veins and girth and length overwhelming her gentle, soft, impossibly servile mind.

“Please,” she said again, surprising herself with the familiarity of her voice. It felt like her own voice should be a stranger; she had not heard herself in so very long. “I…don’t care.”

“Don’t care about what?” he asked.

“About what you’re doing.”

“What do you mean?”

A ripple of displeasure was present in his voice; she had to assuage it.

“With the others. I saw them. I see you. I see…everything. I’m the office manager. With Bonnie. With Lily. All of them. I think it’s hot. You’re fucking up our minds. I don’t care, Sir. I want it. I want You to.”

His Cock dragged against her cheek; Delilah moaned.

“This…this is not something I expected.”

“Huh?”

“You liking it. You being…into this. You always seemed like such a stuck-up bitch.”

“Y-you…you’re powerful,” she explained. “You’re clearly going to win. Just…don’t leave me behind.” Her lips dared to kiss the shaft—The Shaft of The Cock. He didn’t push her away. Didn’t make her stop. She dared for more, tasting him, loving him, licking him. “Let me win with you. Please.”

Thick hands cycled through her sensational mane of hair. “You want to be mine, huh?”

“I so fucking do…” She licked up and down the length of his shaft. “It’s just…why haven’t you done any work on Mona?”

He tsked. A sore subject. “It’s that fucking phone of hers,” he said. “I can’t get this to work unless her focus is on me.”

“I can help you with that.”

That really elevated his interested. He grabbed her by the hair now, lifting her off her knees and pressing her face firmly against His Cock.

“You can?” His voice choked with arousal. “You want to?”

“Fuck yes, Sir. Fuck yeah, Daddy.” Another hard grab and push—he liked that, liked being called that. Good. That was so fucking good. “I’ll bring her in here. I’ll fucking throw her phone away. I’ll hold her down for you and let you do whatever you want. We’ll **** it on her, Daddy. We’ll do it together. Fuck her mind up for You until she’s slobbering for Your Cock like a good girl and doesn’t know the difference between—mmmph!”

She couldn’t say anymore because he shoved his Cock into her surprised, utterly willing mouth. She slurped him down with complete eagerness. It was so fucking good. Her entire body had rearranged itself to take Him. Her esophagus sucked down hard on his Cock head, all her being rolled up into pleasing His Cock.

He jammed harder and harder into her. She noticed him standing up to fuck her face harder. She was just an object to him; just a hot toy for him to use. That was so good.

Thick, heavy hands clung to her pretty, empty skull. Using her. Abusing her. Her hands clasped onto the muscular cheeks of his ass and held on for dear life.

“God,” he said. “I never thought you'd go for this. And fuck you're so good...”

She was good. She was good for Daddy. Delilah was so blisteringly happy. She kept cumming, over and over. A puddle of her lust gathered around her knees.

He had no reason to hold back and Delilah didn't want him to. It felt like he had been holding himself in all day long.

“God,” he said. “Fuck. You're going to make me…gonna make me...”

Delilah moaned with eager need. She was going to make Daddy cum!

“Y-yeah, babe,” he grunted. “Gonna come right down your filthy little throat.

His blast coated her mouth, her tongue, her throat, her esophagus. Heavy white seed sprayed deep into her stomach and filled her with his blessed, salty warmth. She came, again and again she came, thinking only of His Pleasure, His Cock, His Blessed Presence, and what a fucking lucky good girl she was.

Then he kept going. Still hard. Delilah moaned with surprise and eagerness.

“Gonna…fuck.” He groaned. “I’m gonna fucking fill you up, babe.”

She was so enchanted with the idea that when the knock on his door came, it surprised her. Even though she knew who it was; even though she had invited who it was.

Well, invited was a liberal term. She had threatened Mona with termination of her college credit if she didn’t show up immediately.

(TO BE CONTINUED)