Tags - Futa/F/F, Cuckquean, Excessive Cum, Big Cock, Big Balls, Small Breast Humiliation, Small Cunt Humiliation, True Love
*****
Lena and Emily stepped out of the car, thanking their driver.
"Leave a good tip," Emily reminded her.
"I always do," Lena replied.
"And always give them five stars. These companies punish drivers really badly for not having a perfect record," Emily went on.
Lena laughed, "of course, m'love."
They waved goodbye to their driver. After a beat, Emily hooked her arm through the other woman's arm.
"I had a great time tonight," the redhead cooed into Tracer's ear.
"Me too," she replied, sticking her hands into her pockets. She wore the pants in the relationship, but only literally. She had stuck to a soft butch kind of look with a pair of black slacks, a white dress shirt, and shiny black shoes. However, there wasn't a force yet that could separate her from her beat-up weathered aviator jacket.
She felt a little underdressed next to Emily who had gone all out with a long red dress with a scandalous slit up the side. Most of the time they were pretty casual about their dates, but Emily felt like doing it all up today, and Lena was clearly getting to reap the rewards.
Lena had mentioned this to her earlier that day, and Emily had replied, "well, with you gone so often, I feel like I ought to try to make each time special."
And before she could say anything in response, Emily kissed her, warding off apologies and fighting off Lena's guilts she didn't want her to bear.
"Everything's been great," Emily said as they walked up to the steps to their apartment. "Thanks for arranging it."
"Of course!" Lena said. "Least I could do."
They entered their apartment with Emily leading the way, a mischievous grin on her face. "What's gotten into you?"
"I wanted to do something special for you too," she said, disappearing into their bedroom. "Wait here."
"Aww, you don't have to do that. I'm happy just being with you," Lena responded. After she shut the door, a monitor by the door flashed the message: "Chronal Anchor Field Active."
She sighed and shrugged off her jacket, remembering in time not to drop it to the floor and hung it in the coat closet. Next she began unbuttoning her dress shirt and reached in and unhooked her "non-combat" chronal accelerator from herself. It was smaller and didn't allow her to speed up, slow down, or rewind her relative time, but it did prevent her from disconnecting from the present.
Tracer was not excessively blessed in the boob department, and couldn't relate to bigger breasted women talking about the physical relief that they felt when removing their bras when they got home. Still, she reasoned, it probably paralleled the way she felt to be able to remove her accelerator when she got home.
"Close your eyes!" Emily shouted from bedroom.
"What?"
Emily's head appeared at an angle from the doorway. "Close your eyes!"
"Um, okay," and she did so. Light footsteps approached her. They stopped in front of her. There were a few moments of shuffling.
"Can I open them now?" she asked.
"Just one second... okay!"
Lena opened her eyes and saw Emily in front of her, dressed in a lacy set of black lingerie, complete with garters and translucently dark hose. The dark colors contrasted wonderfully with her pale, freckled skin, accentuating her hips and thighs, and the curve of her breasts as they spilled over the top of her bra.
She was posed with her chest thrust out, one hand behind her head as she arched her back, and another hand on her thigh. Emily looked mildly awkward, as one does for poses, and she felt her heart swell seeing Emily do something outside her own comfort zone for her.
She became aware that she should be saying something.
"Yes," Lena said.
Emily furrowed her brow. "Yes, what?"
Realizing that a question had not been asked, she smiled nervously. "Yes... please?"
"You're hopeless, Lena," Emily said, leaning forward and giving her a gentle kiss. "Come on."
The Overwatch agent found herself led into their bedroom where Emily began undressing her. She took the shirt and held it out to one side before dropping it.
"Look at me! I'm Tracer, too busy saving the world to use hangers!"
"Hey!" She giggled, cross her arms reflexively to cover her modest chest. "I'll have you know that after months of research, I've gotten the... hang of it..."
Emily made a face.
"I actually didn't mean to say that," she said, blushing.
"Will you shut up and let me seduce you!"
That seemed reasonable. Emily undid her pants, and Tracer stepped out of them. Lena was about to slip off her plain, grey cotton panties, but Emily stopped her and pointed to a chair behind her.
"Have a seat," she said with a growl to her voice.
Lena saw their kitchen table chair next to the bed. A series of flat wooden slats comprised the back of the chair. There were leather restraints hanging off the chair.
"Is that my surprise?" Lena asked shyly.
"I wanted to take charge tonight," Emily said.
"I can tell."
"Is that okay?" Emily said, a touch of doubt entering her features.
Lena leaned forward and kissed her. "Of course. I'm excited to do whatever you want."
Emily chuckled and guided her to the chair. It was a bit uncomfortable with only a thin panty layer between her butt and the chair surface, but the excitement and novelty of the situation overrode it. Lena tilted her head, "is the shower on?"
And there was another kiss that spun her head around.
By the time she looked down, her ankles were bound to the chair legs and her hands were tied behind the back of the chair. It spoke to the inexperience of Emily at tying because Lena could see how if she just tilted her chair back, she could probably slip her ankles free from the front legs, and then from there, she'd just need to stand up to get her arms free from the back of the chair.
It didn't bother her though, just the opposite really. Lena was looking forward to discovering things about herself and Emily. Together. They had their whole lives ahead of them.
"No blindfold?" Lena asked, grinning.
"Oh, I want you to see everything," Emily replied, sitting down on the bed.
It was then that Tracer became aware of the shower being turned off.
"Wait, is there someone else here?" she asked, trying to look behind her.
Heavy footfalls approached from behind her. She turned her head as far as it could go and had to flinch and draw her head back when something entered her field of view.
It was a cock.
She'd never seen one in real life, having seen hetero and gay porn in her lifetime. But even given the size demands of performers, this one looked huge. It hung low, swinging ponderously as the owner stopped abruptly next to her. It was roughly the dimensions of a soda can and completely soft. It was only then that she realized that the balls the cock was resting over was also equally oversized, in a sack the size of a grapefruit.
"Cheers luv," said a thickly accented, deep female Russian voice. "The cavalry's here."
"Zarya?" Tracer tore her gaze upward and stared.
The pink-haired muscle goddess towered over her, hands on her hips, chest thrust out proudly as she stood. Her armor took pains to de-emphasize her breasts for a more professional look, but even then they looked sizable. Now, as Tracer looked up at them, they looked huge, as big as her head.
"Da," she said, smiling.
"But..." Tracer found she lacked the strength to speak. In contrast to the powerful form of her sister-in-arms, she had nothing.
"I can tell you're surprised," Emily said. "But you shouldn't be. Why would I want you when I could have this?"