Chapter 18
“Oh my goodness!” cried Sharon, disembarking from the ship as she spread her arms in exaltation. “It’s…it’s just grander than I ever imagined! It’s exactly what it should be!”
“You can say that again!” chuckled Luke, getting off the ship directly after her. “Although I have to say,” he added, in a bit of a lower voice, “I think Blaire’s gonna eventually want us to add onto it.”
“Well of course she will!” whispered Sharon, shaking her head slightly at Luke. “She’s growing, what, like half a foot a day!? At this rate, she’s gonna — ”
“Gonna what, Sharon?” boomed a mighty voice behind and above them. Sharon and Luke turned around, and even though both of them were taller than average, they could do nothing but gawk up at the insanely fat, megalithic amazon giantess who was standing before them, still on the ship, ready to step out onto the sand of the beach. During their voyage to the private island that now housed the great mansion, the first building in the huge, sprawling complex that was going to become the Cult of Blaire, Blaire had grown to a gargantuan 15-and-a-half feet tall, and had consumed such a ridiculous amount of food that she now appeared even fatter than she had been before, when she was “only” 13 feet tall. Her big fat belly hung all the way down to her knees now, bloated and enormous with the hundreds upon hundreds of pounds of food she had eaten during the voyage. Even though Luke and Sharon had planned ahead, and ensured that the specialty, luxury yacht was packed to the brim with rich snacks and food, Blaire had gobbled it all up…they had arrived at the island just in time — there was no food left on the ship.
Blaire’s mouth turned upward in a sly grin as she looked down at her two “chief minions,” the two people who kept her growing empire running. To emphasize the sheer extent of her hugeness, Blaire reached a massive hand down and petted the rotund expanse of her fat flesh, which jiggled and quivered instantly in response to the force of her touch. Blaire might have been morbidly obese by this point, but there was no question as to her overpowering strength. Both Luke and Sharon were well aware that they couldn’t move Blaire’s flesh around like that, even when they were body-slamming her as hard as they could during their desperately passionate sex.
“Uhh…” said Sharon, a little caught off-guard, even as her cheeks reddened.
“Thought I couldn’t hear you two whispering together, since I’m all the way up here?” suggested Blaire, throwing her massive shoulders back and straightening her neck. It was incredible — even though Blaire’s corpulence spanned across her entire body, her face was still somehow relatively untouched. She was even somehow hotter, and more beautiful and radiant, than before. Maybe it was the effect of the growth serum…no one but Blaire knew. In any case, there she stood, a behemoth of spilling fat, that was somehow still packed tightly into the firm shape of an impossible hourglass figure, rising over 11 feet over both Luke and Sharon, who were both over 6 feet tall.
“Uhh, y-yeah…yeah, actually,” admitted Sharon. It was still a strange feeling for her, to be so tongue-tied. She and Luke spent most of their days ordering people around, figuratively cracking the whip as they oversaw the development, growth, and expansion of the Cult of Blaire. There were literally thousands of people they were managing now, at this point: builders, engineers, culinary specialists, computer scientists, accountants, servants of all shapes and sizes…the whole lot of it. They had become two of the most powerful people in the world. And yet, when Blaire was facing them down, they both got weak in the knees and stammered out their words. She was truly becoming a goddess…and had surpassed anything resembling normal humanity.
“Hey, where’s Brent?” asked Luke suddenly, looking around and furrowing his brow. “He didn’t…he didn’t fall into the ocean, did he?”
For a few moments, Luke and Sharon looked around concernedly. They knew how important Brent was to their Goddess, but at this point, he could not really be trusted to take care of himself. He was around 2-foot-7 now, and could barely stand on his own two feet. Neither of them had much confidence that he could keep himself afloat in the ocean, were he to fall in.
After a couple anxious moments, however, both Luke and Sharon noticed that Blaire’s grin had widened, and they breathed a collective sigh of relief. She was playing one of her fun games with her little slave.
“Oh Brentssss!” called Blaire, mockingly putting her hand up to her mouth as she pretended to call him. “Oh Brentsssssie! Come out! Come out to see your new home!”
For several long moments, nothing seemed to have changed. Luke and Sharon just stood there, as dozens and dozens of workers and servants busied themselves unloading supplies from the big yacht. They all shuffled eagerly by Blaire’s massive body, and none of them came up higher than a few inches above her knees.
“Having a little trouble there, little guy?” Blaire called again, apparently speaking to no one in particular. “Here — let me help you.”
She reached her arms underneath the twin bulges of her fat breasts and pushed and jostled them playfully, forcing them to go up and down, up and down, as she opened up a bit of a gulf in between them. Only Blaire was strong enough to do something like this — Chad was a huge, tall, heavily-muscled stud, and he wasn’t anywhere close to strong enough to lift this kind of weight. But Blaire was doing it now, effortlessly, with little bounces of her hands underneath.
After about half a minute of this treatment, a small little head began to appear from between the fat, rolling flesh of Blaire’s breasts.
“Oooop! Therrrrrrrre he issssss!” intoned Blaire, with great exaggeration. “He finally manages to haul himself out from between my boobs, though not without my help, of course, hahaha!”
After another minute or so, Brent had managed to lug himself up to his elbows, although the rest of his waifish little body was still hopelessly stuck in between Blaire’s mammaries. There was nothing he could do about that; he would have to wait until she let him out. He suddenly felt the hair on the back of his head getting ruffled, and a second or two later he realized that Blaire was blowing on his head.
“Pffffffffffffff….Pffffffffffffff!” Her sweet breath washed over him, even as the sheer force of her air forced his head forward, straight back down into her fatty breast flesh. The deep, sultry sounds of Blaire’s laughter rumbled in his ears. She was so big now, and he was so small, that she could rattle his eardrums simply by chuckling, when she was close to him. It made Brent hopelessly hard to realize how easily she affected him, but it was also incredibly intimidating. And recently, as Blaire had grown even taller and fatter, Brent had noticed that she was becoming more and more authoritarian. She still played around with him a good bit, as she was doing right now, but as the days went by, Brent had no choice but to admit that his relationship with his Goddess was morphing into something he had absolutely no control over whatsoever. A few months, or even weeks before, Brent had still definitely had a sense of his own identity in their relationship, however small, groveling, and submissive. But recently, with Blaire’s increased growth spurts, and his continued diminishment, he could feel himself both literally and figuratively slipping away, as he was absorbed, body and soul, into Blaire’s existence.
“Sharon, Luke,” came Blaire’s authoritative voice from behind Brent’s head, rattling every atom of his body, “You two ensure that all my servants are keeping up the momentum. These next few weeks will be crucial — get to it! I’m gonna take my little slave here on a tour of our new home.”
Luke and Sharon inclined their heads in slight bows (a motion that they had been just starting to do, without even realizing it) and shuffled off, changing their demeanors immediately as they began barking out orders to the bustling hordes of busy servants. Brent felt a pair of strong, fat fingers grasp him under his arms, and with an easy, effortless lug, Blaire pulled his skinny little body out from between her breasts. She had become so huge that she could easily hold Brent’s body aloft like this, using only a single hand. She held him up to her face for several long moments, looking at him expressionlessly as his feet dangled helplessly, more than 12 feet off the ground. Blaire had been doing this kind of thing more as well — whereas before, she had generally scrunched her face up at him, cooing and murmuring playful little things in his ears, now, her face had become much harder-set, and much more imperious. It was clear that, instead of simply mocking him and teasing him for his weaknesses, Blaire was not intending to convey the more brutal truth of their reality: she had become his utter superior, in every imaginable way.
“Oops!” she said suddenly, tilting her head to the side as her eyes went wide in mock surprise. Brent opened his mouth in panic as his organs seemed to jump into his mouth, as Blaire’s face abruptly dropped away from him. Before he even registered that he was falling, the cool, salty ocean was splashing all around him, and he felt himself going under. Brent was unquestionably in a weakened state, but he still had the wherewithal to hold his breath. He was so light, however, that he hadn’t sunk very far down into the 4-foot-deep water before he felt himself slowly coming up again. In the flurry of his discombobulation, he opened his eyes underwater. The salt water stung slightly, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as Brent had thought it would be; the real surprise, however, was how clear the water was. Brent could see everything quite clearly, from the wave-tussled sand at the bottom to small schools of little fish that swam past him.
And then, suddenly, he saw it — an enormous foot and fat ankle came crashing down through the top of the water, scattering the fish. It impacted the ocean floor with firm, heavy force, sending a huge, collected plume of fine sand up from the bottom, as if there had been an explosion. Brent was floating freely, with his head near the surface, and there was still well over a foot of water beneath him and the ocean floor. As Blaire stepped into the water, however, he couldn’t see anything past the middle of her massive, fat calf (which still, incredibly, looked muscular, despite the sheer amount of fat enveloping it) — that’s how high the water came up on her. Brent felt the ground shake again, sending another miniature shock wave though the water, and almost as soon as it had come down, Blaire’s foot and lower leg lifted up and disappeared. She had stepped with her other foot onto dry land.
Her derisive laughter met his ears when he resurfaced.
“Come on, Brent….come on! Commmme on little guy! Kick! Doggie-paddle! Let’s go!”
It took Brent a full, sputtering thirty seconds to navigate the shallows, but he was finally able to pull himself up onto the beach, unintentionally crawling straight into one of Blaire’s footprints.
“Hahahaha! Oh my GOD, look at that!” laughed Blaire, clutching the great expanse of her fat belly as it shook and jiggled high over Brent’s head. “Your entire body fits PERFECTLY into my footprint! Can you believe that, Brent!? Can you believe the size difference between us now?! It’s not even funny anymore…it’s just…it’s just ridiculous!”
As she spoke, Blaire held her foot high up over Brent’s body, menacingly covering his whole body in its shadow. For a moment, Brent was terrified that she was going to crush him into the sand, but instead, she brought her foot down right next to him, making a point to twist her huge, fat leg as she bore down on her foot, making a deeper footprint right next to the one Brent was in. Wiggling her fat, thick toes deftly, Blaire managed to blend this deeper footprint with the original one, causing Brent to slide down into it, going a bit deeper into the sand.
“Oh no, watch out!” came Blaire’s voice again, and her other foot was already coming down, grinding into the sand, making an even deeper print immediately adjacent, which, of course, Brent tumbled down into.
“K-Blaire!” he managed to choke, as he saw her foot raised again above him, “N-no! No, p-please!”
“What’s the matter, Brent?” she asked, making the hole still deeper once more, as Brent began to claw at the sand, trying in vain to lift himself up out of his deepening prison.
“Come on — it’s easy!” she chided. “Just climb up out of the hole! It can’t be that hard, Brent! Are you really that weak?! Are you really…that small and pathetic…that you can’t even climb out of my footprints!?”
Brent couldn’t waste any energy trying to answer her, because he was already toiling in vain to get out of the deepening, expanding hole. What was worse, it was quickly becoming obvious that Blaire was purposefully trying to exhaust him, even as she kept up with her merciless insults. She would stop, hovering her foot above the hole, giving Brent just enough time to get some momentum in pulling himself out, and then she would swiftly mush her foot back down again into the sand, making the hole bigger, and causing Brent to slide helplessly back down inside. This went on for a few minutes (which to Brent seemed a lot longer), until, finally, with a great laugh, Blaire drove her huge, fat, fleshy foot down hard, harder than she had done yet, and the hole that she had created abruptly deepened an entire foot, almost twice Brent’s height. The sand was firmer backed deeper down, but that’s how strong Blaire had become — she had no issue whatsoever in pushing her massive weight down.
Quickly, the walls of the hole began to cave in. Brent was already a far ways down, but now that Blaire had really exerted her true force, he was hopelessly lost. He uttered a strange, guttural cry as the sand collapsed in around him — the last thing he saw was Blaire’s laughing face, but even through her laugh, so high up, Brent could see the dark, penetrating power of her eyes. She may have been mirthfully mocking him, but she was also looking down on him, in every sense of the word, as a pronounced inferior. Yes, she talked down to Sharon, to Luke (especially) to Chad, to everyone, really…but she didn’t look at them quite like that. No, Brent knew that there was so much more behind her eyes than simple mockery — there was an imperious, crushing indictment, of his own soul, of his own weakness, of his own humiliating deficiencies.
All of this flashed through Brent’s head in an instant as Blaire buried him with her foot. The sun was blotted out, and Brent’s mouth was filled with sand. He felt like he couldn’t draw any breath; he was completely buried, and he began to panic. But just then, his entire body, and the sand around him, became instantly twenty times more compact than they had been an instant before. Brent opened his mouth to cry out, but no sound issued forth — he couldn’t make a sound, not even the tiniest hint of a peep. And now he definitely couldn’t breathe. Even through the crazy hysteria that was quickly taking hold of his brain, he knew what had happened: Blaire had pressed her foot down on the sand, right where he had been buried, compacting him with her weight. She was going to kill him!
For what seemed like an eternity, Blaire just stood there, lightly compressing her foot down on the buried body of her slave. Brent felt his mind breaking — he couldn’t even struggle. There was no way he could budge even the tiniest fraction of an inch. He was utterly at his Goddess’s mercy. All she had to do was stand there for another minute or so, and his life would be extinguished. Never again would he leave his sandy grave. Brent had known and accepted this power dynamic long before, but it had never been emphasized in such a literally and figuratively crushing way…until now.
Right as he was about to black out, Brent felt two powerful fingers hook underneath his arms and yank him up out of the sand. It was crazy that Blaire could penetrate the hard-packed sand that far, just using a couple fingers, but there it was — Brent found himself coughing and sputtering, almost 15 feet off the ground, hanging limply in front of Blaire’s majestic face. At first, she didn’t say anything at all — she had her thumb under one of his armpits, and a forefinger under another, and she just let him hang there, coughing out sand and drawing in deep, desperate breaths of precious oxygen. Her face was expressionless, but there was an undeniable glint of merciless power behind her dark eyes.
At long last, she exhaled and blew a gust of wind at his body, completely blowing off all the sand that had been caked onto his body.
“Do you realize,” came her low, liquid voice, immediately after, “How easy it would have been just to kill you right then?”
“Y-yes Goddess!” squeaked Brent. He was overcome with gratitude to her for sparing his life, but his recent ordeal didn’t prevent his little cock from pointing straight upwards, toward her plush lips. Blaire, however, ignored it, for now.
“I don’t think I can stress hard enough,” continued Blaire, her eyes going over his little body, “How inferior to me you’ve become, Brent. I mean, don’t get me wrong — this was all kinda part of our initial plan, wasn’t it? I’d get bigger and stronger, and you’d get smaller and weaker? Yeah…well, I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t expect you to sink…this low. I’m actually having a hard time wrapping my mind around how ridiculous it is.”
Brent gaped, his mouth opening and closing a few times like a fish out of water. Blaire’s humiliating talk turned him on, yes, but at the same time, it was really hitting home to him in a not-entirely pleasant way. After all, he was her…her “primary slave,” wasn’t he?! He had some special importance in her eyes, right!? But as he raised his eyes to meet hers, with her eyes traveling unsparingly over his meager body, he couldn’t escape the feeling that she didn’t think he was special…at all.
“Like…Brent,” Blaire said softly, tilting her head ever-so-slightly to the side, as if she was seeing him for the first time, “All I did just then was put my foot down in the sand next to you a few times. I was hardly even trying…and I buried you alive. That’s how insignificant you’ve become. I have to actually watch my step around you now…or else I might accidentally kill you. Do you understand how crazy that is?”
“Y-yes!” Brent managed to say. He felt tears coming into his eyes, which he fought to contain. He didn’t really know why he was crying right now — he just…he wanted Blaire to stop looking at him like that. He thought back to their beach vacation, which at this point seemed like ages ago. He wanted her to look at him like that again…with a loving, flirtatious kind of playfulness.
“Aw, and look, you’re actually starting to cry,” murmured Blaire. Her words were not infused with the empathy that Brent so desperately craved. Instead, it sounded more like she was almost speaking to herself.
“You can’t even handle the most basic, fundamental facts, can you?” she enjoined, speaking a little louder. “Look, Brent — I’m not even playing around anymore. I’m just responding to what I’ve interpreted as your increased neediness these past few weeks.”
“N-neediness!?” asked Brent, swallowing a lump that had developed in his throat. He knew that she was right — ever since she had “re-chosen” him, in that very public way, as her “primary slave,” Brent couldn’t debate that he had allowed himself to slip into a new “lifestyle embrace” of his submission. He had been submissive to Blaire for a while by this point, but ever since she had demolished their house, he had rarely left her side. She carried him with her everywhere, as a kind of ornamental pet — the result, of course, was that Brent got so used to her immense presence that, whenever he wasn’t with her, he felt her absence in an intolerably painful way. He hated how little control he felt he had, but that’s what he had been reduced to. An hour apart from his Goddess inevitably resulted in him crying, with his body racked by shakes and chills. He would literally go into withdrawal.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” said Blaire, a cut of severity in her voice. Brent suddenly realized that he had been so focused on her face that he hadn’t realized that she had been walking with him. Now they were inside the mansion, which was a sprawling, high-ceilinged palace of rich marble, with solid Corinthian columns holding up the incredible domed roof. Exquisite chandeliers of crystal hung down majestically in the yawning entrance, and all around, the smell of sandalwood essential oil infused the air. It was a huge place of rich opulence, but Brent hardly noticed. He was too focused on the conversation he was having with his Goddess.
“I…I kn-know what you’re talking ab—” stuttered Brent, but Blaire abruptly cut him off.
“I’m aware that you haven’t been able to help it, little guy,” she said, wetting the top of her lip with her huge, red tongue, “And to be honest, it’s exactly what I’ve expected. You were already pretty weak-willed before we decided to do all of this, so it’s not surprising at all that you’ve totally deteriorated mentally as you’ve gotten smaller and weaker.”
“M-mentally?!” asked Brent. He felt like he needed to protest this pronouncement, at least. Yes, he may have given himself up a little too much to his own submission, and yes, maybe he had gotten too used to being around her and having everything done for him, but…but he was still Brent, after all! He was still himself!
“Ha! Wow, so you’re gonna try and argue the point, huh?” chuckled Blaire, shaking her head at him. She was ascending a slow wind of fancy marble stairs as she talked, but again, Brent hardly noticed.
“Tell me, Mr. Tiny,” laughed Blaire, her mirth issuing forth from her disbelief that she even had to say anything at all, “When was the last time you had an original thought or idea, that didn’t have to do with me?”
Brent felt cornered. He ground his teeth a little as he worked his little mind furiously, trying to come up with something. As he thought, Blaire ascended to the top of the stairs. Brent was too busy thinking, but if he had been more observant, he would have noticed that the entire mansion was designed to accommodate Blaire’s unprecedented bulk and height. The ceilings were incredibly high, and the staircase was four times wider than normal. The upstairs hallway Blaire was now walking down was also much, much wider than any other, and the bedroom she walked into was so huge that it could have easily fit three or four full-sized three-story houses inside it.
“Nothing?” chuckled Blaire, glancing expectantly at Brent. “Didn’t think so.”
She abruptly bent down and deposited Brent roughly on the marble floor. He managed to struggle to his feet. Blaire loomed over him now, far enough back to where he could admire and gawk at the extent of her prodigious bulk. Brent had compared himself to Blaire more times than it was possible for him to count, but for some reason, the new luxurious setting, coupled with that arrogant, imperious energy in her eyes, made this particular comparison unusually crushing for him.
Truly, it was ridiculous how huge she was to him now. Blaire loomed up above him, a veritable cliff of insurmountable, brobdingnagian bulk. Her big fat stomach hung down so low that it reached her knees, but even then, it was far, far out of Brent’s reach. The top of his head was only as tall as halfway up her shinbone — standing next to the enormous fat pillars of her legs, and standing on his tiptoes, he couldn’t even reach the beginnings of her calf muscle.
“You couldn’t think of anything,” declared Blaire, her massive, fleshy hands perched on each of her colossal, fat hips, “Because there’s nothing else in your head. I’ve literally eclipsed everything else in your mind, Brent. I’ve become your whole world. And you have the presumption to act needy, like we’re still in some kind of a…relationship. There is no more relationship anymore, Brent — you get that, don’t you? I’m not even a dominant partner to you anymore. I’m a GODDESS to you, and you’re nothing more than a sniveling, pathetic little husk of skin and bones that I have total power and control over, who I can command to worship me any time I choose, who I can use as my toy whenever I feel like it.”
Brent felt himself shaking in place on his rickety legs. He knew that Blaire was right, and even though her unsparing language made his little cock harder than he could have believed possible, it still hurt to hear. He felt himself tearing up again, despite his efforts to prevent it.
“Like, look at this!” exclaimed Blaire, talking a booming step forward and planting her huge foot next to Brent’s body. “Look at that! You barely even come up to my ankle now, Brent…my ankle! Go ahead, stand on those little tippy-toes! Try to reach my calf muscle! Go ahead, try! Jump! Come on! Come on!”
Under the warm ceiling of Blaire’s overhanging belly fat, Brent stretched up in vain, standing on his tiptoes, jumping up and down over and over, but he simply couldn’t reach. Blaire arched her head down, looking behind her so that she could catch a glimpse of him (doing it from the front, she had no hope of seeing past her huge belly).
“Not even close,” she remarked, shaking her head. “Pathetic…and if you can’t handle a single one of my legs” — and here, Blaire suddenly stepped back and bent her gargantuan ass down over Brent’s body — “Then there’s NO way that you can handle THIS!”
Brent staggered back, overcome by the sight of the twin boulders of Blaire’s obscenely fat ass. His entire body was shrouded in its shadow as Blaire crouched over him. Her ass may as well have been a gigantic alien spaceship, descending down from the heavens toward his hapless and prone figure. But Blaire wasn’t just content with that — she suddenly threw her ass into a series of jiggling, gyrating twerks, clapping her fat cheeks together rapidly over and over above him. To Brent, it sounded like peal after peal of deafening thunder, and he pressed his hands to his ears, his own helpless and involuntary cries of alarm drowned out by the shockwaves of Blaire’s clapping cheeks.
“Geez, look at the state of you!” laughed Blaire derisively, finishing a minute later and looking down at Brent’s shaking body. “You can’t even take a little ass twerk anymore!”
Before Brent could react, Blaire had swiftly bent down and swiped him up off his feet, bringing up to her face with dizzying speed. Her eyes were still hard with that same domineering arrogance, but now they were also sparkling with lust.
“All I have to do is move my biiggggg body, and you’re totally lost,” she cooed roughly at him. To emphasize her point, she brought a finger up to his face and casually pressed his head to the right, and then to the left, straining his neck to its breaking point as she toyed with him. There wasn’t anything Brent could do — it was painfully obvious that if Blaire had wanted to, she could have easily snapped his neck using only her finger, right then and there.
“All I have to do is breathe, little slave,” she purred, exhaling a gust of wind onto him that blew his hair back, and strained his body into a backwards “C” shape. “All I have to do is breathe, and look at you…you’re pathetically helpless. Hahaha, I could snap your spine, just by breathing on you! Let that sink in…and let that be a reminder to you that you’re nothing…NOTHING…compared to me.”
She held up her fingers to his legs, showing how they were easily thicker, and weighed more. Even her pinkie finger was bigger around than the thickest part of his legs.
“To you, my fingers are like legs…” persisted Blaire, staring down into his eyes, “My legs are like huge trees…my fat stomach is like a cliff…my ass is your sky…and my breath is like a hurricane. I am a GODDESS to you, Brent…a GODDESS, and you will worship me with…”
And here, Blaire purposefully and deliberately glanced down at Brent’s painfully engorged erection. A nasty, mocking smile crept across her face.
“With that?” she quipped, raising her eyebrows at him. “Haha, oh no, I don’t think so. I think we’re gonna have to use something…else.”
As she spoke, Blaire’s eyes went slowly over Brent’s body. He was so aroused that he hardly understood her intention.
“Aw hell, let’s have a little fun,” laughed Blaire. “I’m gonna call Sharon — and in the time it takes her to get here, let’s see how many times I can make that pitiful little member cum. Ready? One, two, three…SHARON!!”
If Brent hadn’t brought his hands up to his ears, his eardrums would have both ruptured from the sound of Blaire’s voice. As it was, it felt like every atom in his body was buzzing in place from the vibrations of her call. But as soon as it had ended, Blaire had whipped Brent up to her lips and was sucking hard on his little cock.
“WAAAEEEEEEEEEEE!!!” squealed Brent, flailing his limbs helplessly in jerking, instinctive reflexes as he came hard between her lips. Blaire started laughing with her mouth closed, but her suction only seemed to increase.
“MMMMMMMMMMMM!!” she moaned, with great exaggeration, and Brent was already shooting off another spasm of cum into her cavernous mouth.
“NONONOICANTICANTWAITWAITSTOPSTOPSTOPPPPP!!!” cried Brent crazily, shaking his head back and forth rapidly as she shut his eyes and screamed up to the high heavens. Blaire’s relentless suckle was far too much, far too powerful, to handle. He felt like she was sucking the soul out through his cock, and, in many ways, she was.
“RRRRRRR!” she growled excitedly, shaking her own huge head back and forth in a sexy, jerking series of motions. That did it — sighing out like he was dying, Brent came a third time in ten seconds and promptly passed out, his head sagging back in her huge, fleshy hand, his mouth hanging open in defeat. By the time Sharon came into the bedroom, just a minute later (she had come as soon as she was called), Blaire had sucked three more unconscious orgasms from her vanquished slave.
“Yes my Goddess?” asked Sharon deferentially.
“I want to fuck my little slave here,” announced Blaire, lounging back onto her massive bed as she spread her legs, “But I don’t feel like doing it myself.”
“I’ll do it for you!” came Sharon’s immediate reply, making it clear that she had been looking forward to this moment for quite some time.
“Good girl,” purred Blaire, tossing Brent’s unconscious body onto the bed before her yawning vagina. “Don’t be gentle. I want him to wake up inside me.”
As Sharon stepped forward eagerly, grabbing ahold of Brent with both hands, Blaire grunted as she lifted up the huge bulk of her belly fat, thereby granting Sharon access to her vagina. No one on earth could have lifted such a weight, and Blaire did it fairly easily, only grunting slightly with effort. Sharon had to remind herself to stay focused as she beheld with awe Blaire’s huge, pink vagina, inhaling and exhaling before her, an entire foot in diameter.
Half a minute later, Brent awoke suddenly to the moaning cries of his Goddess pulsating in his ears. He could barely breathe…and when he opened his eyes, he saw nothing. The roar of squelching, wet, slippery flesh mixed with the thunder of Blaire’s cries, and for a few long and panicky moments, Brent had no idea where he was. He thought he might be dead. But then, gradually, he realized that he was being grasped about the ankles by two strong hands that easily went all the way around his legs.
“FASTER Sharon!” came Blaire’s voice in mighty, booming syllables…and Brent understood. His entire body was being used as Blaire’s dildo, thrust in and out of her vagina with feverish speed. He mewed out in despair, dribbling still more cum out of his pathetic, spent cock, as he realized that he was nothing more than a prop to Blaire now…a little toy for his Goddess, whose powerful, sucking vagina was swallowing him whole, over and over and OVER again.