***The characters referenced in this story are Sixth-Formers, aged 18, or they are teachers. No character is any younger than 18***
It's Sephalla's week, so...her rules apply. My week, starting next Monday. Then things flip, and I'm in control, and she's fully in the role of submissive. And then we flip, again, as per the arrangement. The dirty deal, to satisfy both of us in terms of switching things up.
Yesterday, she fucked my arse for the first time. Thirty inches of demonic horse dick rammed into my human innards, resulting in an orgasm like no other. Resulting, as well, in a belly loaded to the limits with a virile volume of nightmare spooge. A wonderful way to start things off, at least. To set the tone: that when Seph is in charge, in the role of Mistress, I'm little more than a cocksleeve for her needs.
Yet for all the roughness, the effortless domination, Sephalla treats me with tremendous affection. As I laid there on the floor yesterday afternoon, she lay beside me, only the slightest hint of meanness escaping her perfect mouth when she laughed -- and I joined in -- at the fact that the enormous quantity of ejaculate left me effectively paralysed until the early evening.
Something to get used to, apparently. Something that'll be easier to manage, the more and more her demonic dick milk empowers me, making me into some hybrid human-infernal. Though, unfortunately, the body doesn't absorb it through the guts in quite the same way as it does through the stomach.
'The process is mystical, not scientific,' Sephalla said, having eventually helped me up, to carry me in her strong, gentle arms. 'The belly has importance, as the seat of consumption. Your butt, not so much. We'll have to train that stomach some more, to get things moving in the right direction...'
A tempting prospect, though Sephalla's terms are...less so?
Exciting, there's no doubt about that. The idea that, during those weeks when she's the dominant partner, I'm going to forgo ordinary nutrition in favour of consuming regular quantities of her demonic horse tadpoles is deeply arousing. Though it does mean a certain degree of going around school with a fatter belly than I'd like.
It means dialling up the gossip surrounding us -- gossip I've had my role in inflaming, with my desire to make things "official" in an outward sense -- to a much more intimate degree. Why do Jake and Sephalla disappear around lunch break? Why does Jake go around looking like he's eaten a banquet all to himself? Why does Sephalla pat his belly on occasion and smile with the utmost smugness?
It's an idea that keeps me up on Monday evening, but only because I can't manage to get my cock to go down. It throbs violently, in need of release, but I take this role-play of ours with the utmost seriousness. My loads are for spilling only in her presence, and even then, only as and when she allows me to do so.
A simple, yet effective deterrent.
Thus when Tuesday morning rolls around I pass on breakfast, thinking only of the day's dirtiness, fast approaching. To forgo ordinary food in favour of her demonic foal milk is at once depraved and divine, resulting in an awkward boner on the bus ride. People look at me and whisper among themselves, all the same, because I'm with the scary monster girl. Because someone doubtless saw Seph carrying me to the train station last night, in lieu of the late bus I missed for being so cream-filled.
It's strangely empowering, honestly. That we can attract so much attention for what? Being different? The start of things was rough, but now everything is ideal. Sephalla isn't scary, not really. Lonely, more than anything. An outcast of sorts, in large part because there's an expectation that monster girls should be simple and pretty. All of the more "monstrous" types end up being loners, though most aren't quite as, well, casually abrasive as Sephalla the Magnificent.
I know they're not jealous of me, as such, but I get the strong impression that they would be, if they knew the degree of paradise I've got waiting for me each and every time I end up alone with Seph. It's not like I imagined I'd like futa dick, after all, but I'm not sure I could -- even if I had to -- find enjoyment in a regular woman. That Sephalla has everything going for her, all possible permutations of the perverse at her disposal when it comes to us enjoying one another, is something I'll never take for granted.
When I arrive at school, I find Seph waiting for me. She affixes me with an assertive gaze as I walk towards the main entrance, devouring me with those coal-seam eyes. Where my own have some light to them, a flare capable of faintly illuminating objects in front of my face in a dark room, Sephalla's are bright orange gemstones in her face, ringed in tastefully applied makeup and bursting with beauty.
The gorgeous goth-punk goddess is as enticing today as ever. Her hair, living blue fire, runs like a mane down her back, its emo fringe for the moment behaving itself. That same azure light dances side to side in the form of her equid tail, swishing with faint excitement to behold me. A faux leather jacket makes up the outermost layer of clothing, a death metal t-shirt beneath it for a change revealing little of her torso -- as if those breasts and hips don't, by merit of sheer size, show themselves regardless. Blue and black being her colours -- the denim of her cut-down shorts not so bright as her flames -- seems fitting, and yet doesn't quite match her moods. Red, for lust, or pink, for sweetness, might be a better reflection of the woman's soul, though there's something appealing about having its secretive nature known only to my lucky self.
'There's a hunger in your eyes,' she says, smirking. All pleased with herself, my "owner" for the week. 'I like that look. No breakfast for you, I take it?'
'None, Mistress. Just like you asked of me.'
Seph's cheeks grow flush, her weakness to such moments of affection unfaltering, no matter how illicit or depraved. This is going to be a lot of fun, for both of us. A learning experience for both of us, as we explore these ever-rotating roles, and enjoy all manner of dirty desires.
But even though I'm meant to be the submissive partner at present, it's still cute as fuck to see her blush on account of me using her preferred title.
To my surprise, however, Seph says nothing. She steps to the side of the passing throng of fellow pupils and I instinctually go with her, the towering inferno some lighthouse in the sea of irrelevant faces, this herd of nobodies that have no real interest to either of us.
'Can you wait until first break?' she says, suppressing a smirk.
'If I have to, I guess? I mean...'
'What?'
'Just that it's not like my tutor is going to notice if I turn up or don't. He barely pays attention to any of that stuff.'
