and receive

“Please Whitney… can I suck your cock?”

Jesse looked up at the girl with pure contempt in his eyes, overhung by the looming shadow of that limb he asked for.

“Oh, well… If you’re not going to bother, we’ll just forget it.” She turned away, the impressive size of her still-hardening cock dragging the boy’s gaze with it.

“No!” He cried, having already got this far… and still hearing the call of his bed loud and clear. If he couldn’t put up with this… how would he face whatever his new school had laying in wait down the road? Whitney had paused in her refusal.

“P-please Mistress Whitney, Ma’am… Will you let me suck on you and swallow the cum?” He tried to lay it on thick… surprising even himself by the plaintive, grovelling voice that slipped from his lips. He let his eyes shine with all the embarrassment and humiliation of this moment. Confusedly feeling his own penis twitch, just a little, inside his panties.

The cruel contours of Whitney’s smile returned, basking in his submission. “What are you?”

Jesse could feel the words she wanted to hear bubbling up upon his tongue, debasing him before he let pride and indignation get in the way. “I’m… a s-slut. A pitiful, sissy slut.”

“And what do you love?”

He cast his eyes down to the bedroom floor… unable to look at the throbbing thing he was asking for. “I love cock. I-I want to suck your cock, not just because I have to. It’s so much bigger than mine and I… I want to know what it feels like to hold it in my mouth and taste it.”

Even Jesse didn’t know quite where that burst of inspiration came from. It’s just what she wants to hear, he told himself. It’s just what I need to say so she’ll help me with my schoolwork.

Grinning from on high, the girl touched the tip of herself to his lips. The effeminate male felt his own tongue slip out between them, just ever-so-slightly… to get a first taste of what was to come. He looked back up at her past that shadow and raised his hands to take hold of its girth… but she shook her head no.

So instead he had to work only with his mouth, feeling the thickness of the thing fill so much of that private space. He ran his tongue up and down each side of it, watching the glisten of his own saliva bring a gleam to every inch. Then sucked the bulbous head back inside, bringing what vacuous pressure he could to bear in order to pleasure her. She stroked a hand along the side of his face and tangled it encouragingly in his hair. The boy hated how warm and tingly that made him feel. Though, he regretted such stubbornness when she began tugging on it instead. Forcing herself deeper and deeper toward the back of his throat. Betsy had told him once that humanity’s ongoing evolution away from such ancient dead-ends as engorged tonsils and wisdom teeth had reduced their natural gag reflex… but it sure didn’t feel like it now. When Whitney’s thick and thrusting tool first bounced off the back of his oesophagus he had to back off, coughing and spluttering. Great swathes of his own drool ending up dripping from his chin.

She did not relent though… and soon he could feel near the entire length of her sliding chokingly down into his gullet. Tears began to blur his vision. His sharp nails dug into the opposite forearms where he kept them clasped behind his back. She was using his head as just a hole to be driven in and out of. A face-pussy, just like Claire said. Only giving him scant instants to never-quite recover his breath before the next flurry began. Until all his sense of time and space became only a question of when the next gasp of cooling freshness and precious oxygen might come. Yet, down below… he could feel his own erection standing as tall as it ever did. Straining against the cotton confines he’d trapped it in. She’d be able to see that… he knew she would. Only spurring her condescending view of him further.

At last… after what seemed like an eternity. He felt several great pulses flow through the meat that suffocated him, signalling several great spurts of fluid being deposited straight down his throat. He only got a taste of it as she dragged herself free, leaving him to fall forwards into a drooling heap on all fours. Unable to speak… he could only wave for her to press a thumb to the now warningly beeping collar around his neck, thus declaring this use of him free-of-charge. Then he turned and left the room without looking back, ignoring the trail of dribbling saliva and tears he left in his wake.