So after going through post-first draft depression, here's part 2. Hope you like it, I know I didn't.
It should be said that there is a scene out there with maybe/maybe not watersport. It's actually very mild and really up to you to decide if it is or not. (Author's hint: it's not! I'm not into that shit, you weirdo!)
And
DISCLAIMER
: All the famous names appearing in this work of FICTION are purely coincidental, I swear.
*****
It was a haunting spectacle Maisie was giving unaware. Her mind cut off, suspended between a violent arousal and a waiting fear, her body had taken over—though not any less constrained—over time reduced to a range of muscular reflexes that were the pure and never-seen depths of an intimacy.
Nothing more/Nothing less than this she had made herself: a body, left alone to fight with lust, thinking itself alone enough to allow lust to win. And now its bareness was a delirium visible to the three sets of eyes fixed on her. Under the ropes, this perfectly naked thing was loose, deaf to the footsteps closing in, blind to the light turning on, instead struggling against the bonds with the most involuntary utmost sensuality, mumbling pleading things no one could understand, shifting on the bed to hump the air with all-powerful genitals intoxicated of being so denied.
And Emilia was uncomfortable being able to see Maisie like this. She never had been much into peeping, to have this ascendancy over someone, and thus she was feeling out of place. But had she been a little more honest with herself, she would have spotted the Freudian slip. Yes, her due place was on that bed, with this fourth slave—another sister—bundled up like a fucktoy begging to be picked out of its box.
Yet her gaze was of helpless fascination, rough like a tongue, running over the naked body, dwelling on the abnormal penis. It was the same for Natalie and Rose. And those three were the actual spectacle—irresolute looks, dangling arms—reserved to Sophie who was standing aside, arms crossed, observing her three new pets with a perverse satisfaction. As planned.
She could even guess the internal monologues:
How long
.
Long enough to leave bruises under the rope; long enough to leave a pool of precum on the mattress. (Had she been hard the whole time?) She was there when the party started. They saw her when... They saw her, they shared a drink, they hugged, they...
Long enough to lose my mind
, Emilia thought.
Something that would never happen to Maisie's kind. According to the rumours at least. The futanari, as they were called, were a modern-day legend, circulating on social media, not backed by any science, any visual proof, and if it was true—so far it was—those dick-women were made for going through such purgatories of horniness. Hypersexual beasts, eating dopamine raw.
Turns out Sophie Turner had captured a live specimen.
Emilia's pussy clenched around its plug.
The scheming host finally broke the entertaining awkwardness:
'Yes it's true, this woman has a dick. Forty centimetres and fully functional. Come closer, don't be shy!'
She sat on the bed. The young futa turned her head in a swift, animalistic impulse, unable to stretch it completely towards the source of the pressure on the mattress.
'Are you ready for us, Maiz?' Sophie purred, stroking her friend's hair, loosening some of the knots, tightening others.
'You couldn't imagine my surprise when after all these years my BFF finally told me her...
secret
. Such a sneaky little slut! This big boy right here can be so small when it's soft.' She removed a bud from Maisie's ear: 'You sneaky little slut!' she whispered and put it back immediately. As she did, Maisie moaned in fear and anticipation, ballgag vibrating. Then she sniffed the air and whimpered, having caught the reek of the load on Sophie's face.
Alongside smell, she had one other sense left to feel: touch. Sophie poked the monstrous penis and it throbbed so abruptly it startled Rose.
'She's a futanari? Is that the word?' Emilia asked.
'Yep!'
'So they're real after all.'
'Yep!'
'And I guess Mophie was real too after all,' Natalie said, not without some trepidation in her voice.
'Yeah...'
'How did it happen? Did it grow all of a sudden, like a werewolf or something?'
The eyes of Sophie immediately became hazy as she recalled the moment.
She always thought Maisie was a prude. The funniest girl in the world but definitely a prude when it came to bedroom stuff.
'Like, she was a never-nude because of that dick, can you imagine? While I walk around tits & butts out pretty much all the time.'
And then Comic-Con happened. When Maisie saw her flirting with Natalie, when she heard the story of that first time, when she listened to her friend affirming her bisexuality with so much liberation, she couldn't hold back her condition anymore. And they started talking. About sex. About everything. And how Maisie Williams had been lusting over someone and this someone was Sophie Turner.
The young woman cupped her palm on her cheek. The girl responded to the pressure, tenderly. Then she jolted: Sophie had just pulled her foreskin back, making the bulbous cockhead pop out and flare wider in the cool air and turn purple and glisten. Her body arched as if everything in her, everything vital, all her force was magnetized to this swelling central point that was her glans. Then the great and slow contraction let go, just as suddenly, but not without a volley of precum which spattered her stomach.
'After that, she had no other choice but to tell me about the "detail". And show me too. I expected something horrible like a deformity or whatever. So I was relieved when I saw her little pecker.'
'And you just jumped at it,' Emilia joked.
'No! Honestly it looked like a micropenis.'
'A grower then.'
'Yeah. What I did was, I toyed with her pride to make her feel better. I convinced her to get hard to show me she had a big dick. You know...boys will be boys... And when she saw my face she felt like the queen of the world. I probably looked like how your faces look right now! I mean, you guys had seen a 16" cock before?'
No, they hadn't.
'She explained to me when you're a futa, after puberty you're basically horny 24/7 and it feels like heroin withdrawal and she was fucking exhausted. I was the only one who could relieve her, cause she saw how sexual I had become, she knew it wasn't just a phase. And she trusted me. And then—'
Then the tears were undeniable, rolling down her cheeks, mixing with the thick load.
'...then the L-word got involved,' Rose deducted.
'Yes.'
'And it's mutual.'
'Definitely.'
Sophie stopped; the rest of the story was private. There were no further questions about it, no jealousy either, no rivalry, no hierarchy. The only hierarchy Emilia and Maisie and Natalie and Rose and Sophie recognized was a small game embedded in submission, and submission only a small game within the sentimental immensity they were bathing in together without a clue of up and down, left and right.
Everyone's attention moved back to Maisie and her futa boner towering over the bed.
'So I guess you understand now why I made you wear those plugs.' Sophie said, carefully wiping the tears off her eyelids and avoiding the semen around.
'That knob is like twice as big though!' Natalie said.