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Tom Douglas stood naked at the toilet slowly draining what felt like a never-ending stream of piss. After at least two minutes passed he sensed his bladder nearing empty and pulsed his cock a few times to push out the last remnants. Bizarrely, as he reached forward to flush, a new urge came on and a fresh stream began, lasting over thirty seconds. When it finally ended, he stood for a moment to be certain he was through. Sure enough, more dribbled out in a weak trickle.
As the last drips finished, a sense of lightheaded exhaustion overcame him, and he leaned forward panting, placing his hands on top of the frigid toilet tank for support. It seemed improbable that the simple act of urinating could be so tiring. Yet he had never pissed such an immense volume before, so had no reference for how it should feel. And as he thought about it, he realized he had never drunk so much liquid before in such a short time. Let alone such volumes of the divine tonic of his Mother.
Tom had been at the breast of his Mistress for much of the past hour, ingesting her blessed offering of sustenance as she teased and punished him, until finally extracting the humble offering of his loins. As improbable as his volume of pee and her copious abundance of milk were, he knew their relationship was even more improbable.
A buxom 6’5″ star athlete, Sophie was his 18-year-old daughter’s high school senior classmate and best friend. Tom was nine inches shorter, over twenty years older, and an infinite number of factors inferior to her: smaller, weaker, less intelligent, less attractive, less poised, less sexual, less skilled, less wise — less, less, less, less…
Against all rational logic, Sophie had taken an interest in him, teasing him to orgasm repeatedly until she took control of his cock completely. As he fell deeper under her spell, he began to understand the limitless extent of her superiority and realized that he wanted nothing more in life than to be with her, and that he would strive to earn her love. She offered to be his new Mother and raise him, to reset his future, to help him achieve his long-forsaken ambitions, to better himself on the hope that he may one day be worthy of her. But she also warned that her training would bring the most excruciating trials he had ever endured, and that failure would leave him a hollow shell of a man.
Upon acceptance of her offer, she began with a grueling lesson in chastity that indeed almost finished him off psychologically — and physically through starvation. As his reward for pledging his orgasms to her forever, she placed him at her nipple and began feeding him a part of her, proving through her immaculate lactation that she was indeed his new Mother.
Today, he had arrived at her suite at the Four Seasons for his required morning feeding — he could eat nothing else — and he had lavished in the joys of her body’s delicious nutrients and luscious sensuality. At the climax of their encounter, he had ejaculated in two waves at her commanding words, first dribbling a “little mess” and then shooting a giant wad like a “big boy”. It felt like his cock miraculously grew in size at her behest, as if her words alone could change his anatomy.
Upon finishing him off, she dressed and left for a morning jog, telling him to rest up for the work he would do upon her return. And it was then that the urge to piss overwhelmed him.
Tom washed his hands and stepped back into the bedroom. A cloud of humidity hit him, dense with the aroma of Sophie’s body. His cock immediately hardened, and his knees weakened. Tripping over his own feet, he fell into the bed. Her sublime scent was even stronger on the sheets. He huffed it in, sniffing around like a hungry animal.
He had just been with her, yet he missed her with every ounce of his soul. But he dared not touch his cock or rub it against the linens, for it would violate his solemn oath. And even if he tried, he knew his erection would immediately wither, so strong was her mental bond.
Just lie here and recover, sweetheart. Think about everything you just experienced.
Her parting words suddenly sounded in his ears and the necessity of following her directive brought him to his senses. Willing himself to lie on his back and close his eyes, he replayed the memory of the last hour: stripping himself, seeing her nearly nude body and heavenly bare breasts, hugging her, drinking from her, fucking her thighs, climbing her, being held on her hip, getting spanked, her wet panties pressed in his face then into his mouth, tasting her juices, seeing her blooming orchid for the first time…
He shot bolt upright in the bed, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. The recent ejaculation had obscured his memories, making it seem like the highlight of the last hour was the induced climax between her thighs. Yet that wasn’t it by far.
The temporary blank scared him, as if he had forgotten his own name – eryaman rus escort the lapse was that important. She had spread her legs momentarily, showing him her puffy labia and engorged clitoris, like the stamen and pistil of an exotic flower, reaching out for him, begging to be fertilized. The image of her beauty was burned into his brain, yet the last few minutes had cloaked it.
He thought of the times he had stared at the Pleiades in the night sky and seen nothing, then averted his eyes slightly until the seven points of light shone clearly in his periphery. It was almost as if the retina of his memory was burned from the luminescence of her treasure, making it impossible to look directly at her in his mind’s eye.
He knew intuitively that this was the object of her task, to recall and rejoice in the beauty that he had oh-so-briefly beheld. He closed his eyes again and everything else was gone, becoming a routine day like any other, eclipsed by that moment of celestial vision. Of the ultimate pinnacle suddenly emerging from a shroud of mist, and a path up the mountain beginning to appear.
I may just have to train you to pleasure me sooner than I planned.
The rapture of the unexpected possibility washed over him, and he fell back into the pillows, again stunned that his conscious had nearly overlooked the most important words she had uttered since he arrived — possibly ever.
His cock throbbed and his chest swelled as he exalted at the prospect. He pondered excitedly: Could that be the work she has planned for me?
He smiled and felt tears in his eyes, sensing that a new day was dawning. He was even more eager for her return.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Tom rolled over with a start and fell off the bed, disbelieving that Sophie could see his thoughts so clearly that she would return just as he deciphered the purpose of her instruction.
He began running toward the door, assuming she must have forgotten her key. Then, in a bout of propriety, he doubled back and grabbed her silk robe off the floor, slipping his hands through the long arms as he ran through the hall to the living room and back to the entrance. He yanked open the door, excited to see his muse and share the results of his meditation…
“Room service!” a tall man’s voice rang out. “Shall I bring it in and set it up at the table, sir?”
“Um…uh…” Tom stuttered as he hastily tied the robe, the belt nestling low across his groin. “Yeah…I guess so.”
Tom followed as the man walked stiffly into the room rolling a cart, his well-tailored suit barely creasing. Upon arriving at the table, he set out one place setting, then proceeded to put six cloche-covered plates in the center of the table, followed by a tea service with a large pot, baskets of bread and pastries, bowls of fruit, carafes of juice and water and various small trays of jellies and condiments. The unappetizing scent of food permeated Tom’s nostrils, causing his stomach to turn.
The waiter finished by setting up a double boiler with a can of Sterno underneath. After lighting the flame, he set a glass dispenser of maple syrup in the water bath to heat.
“Voila! As requested, a complete selection of our natural and organic breakfast offerings,” he stated as if Tom expected the delivery.
Tom looked down to see the man holding out a black folder with a bill. He took it and scanned the long list of items, noting the plethora of buzzwords like antioxidant, superfood, organic, non-GMO and pasture-raised. At the bottom, the total came to over $500 including a mandatory 25% gratuity, causing Tom’s eyes to widen. Then he gasped when he saw the guest name.
He had wondered how Sophie afforded the lavish suite at the Four Seasons, given her family’s modest home. He surmised that his daughter Lauren must have lent Sophie her credit card at her request.
He thought briefly of his last encounter with his impudent daughter, how she had deviously extorted him into hosting a party at their house and later made him clean up her mess. Now she wasn’t even manipulating him into giving her what she wanted, she was just taking. Tom’s heart sank as he thought of the leverage she had on him — and because he was on the hook for a $500 breakfast and God-knows-how-much for the opulent hotel suite.
The idea that it was all for Sophie was barely enough to temper his angst at spending so much money, his Scottish frugality was so deeply ingrained. He reluctantly signed the check “L. Douglas” and handed it back to the waiter. As the man reached out to take it, he did a double-take and scanned the length of Tom’s body, then turned on his heel and walked quickly from the room.
Puzzled, Tom looked down and was shocked to see his stiff cock protruding from flaps of the robe, just under the belt. Silk fabric puddled on the floor; on Sophie it barely covered her shins. Then he noticed two large wet streaks on the cloth at the sides of ankara etimesgut escort bayan his stomach, where Sophie’s breasts had leaked when she saw her baby boy walk into the room. He thought of the look on the waiter’s face — he must have been horrified!
Tom’s shame faded into the background as the scent of Sophie’s stale milk wafted into his nose, overpowering the smell of the food. It was a mere vestige of the fresh version, yet it was still Her. His mouth watered and his cock throbbed.
Just then, the door slammed, apparently signaling the waiter’s exit. It seemed to have taken a long time for him to leave, but Tom assumed his sense of time was distorted by his flurry of emotions.
Then Sophie walked into the room. The air thickened with the moisture and pungency of her perspiration. She seemed to glow with a different vitality, supercharged with the energy of her exertion. Her chest heaved, causing her whole body to grow imposingly with each breath. The thick muscles of her bare arms rippled, glistening with dew, and her square shoulders hulked. A short time before she seemed plush and motherly, now she looked steely and powerful. Brutal.
Her black spandex bra and shorts were soaked, and her brow was dripping. She looked at her watch.
“5K in just under 17 minutes. If it weren’t for the elevator, I may have broken 16. Oh well,” she sighed, then she looked up and her eyes narrowed. “Take that robe off right now. You look fucking stupid.”
Tom’s cheeks suddenly burned, and he hastily slipped his arms out of the sleeves and pushed down, forgetting to untie the belt. The knot cinched as the belt tightened over his hips. He frantically clawed at it with his fingernails, unable to find a strand to loosen.
He glanced up to see Sophie breathing impatiently with her hands on her hips. Changing course, he slid the tight belt up his chest, then lifted and shimmied it up his arms and off. He quickly balled it up and looked for a place to set it.
“Never treat my clothing that way!” Sophie flashed angrily, as Tom made a belated move to unravel it. “Give it to me, now!”
Sophie snatched it from his hands and abruptly whipped it across his face and chest repeatedly, bringing Tom to tears.
“Present yourself!” she commanded icily as she stopped hitting him, then lifted the robe to dab across her moist brow.
Tom immediately dropped to his knees, placing his forehead on the carpet, and extending his hands forward, palms up per his training. His body quivered, anticipating imminent punishment. He was shocked at how fast her mood had turned, and silently chided himself for being so fucking stupid.
He waited in silence as the seconds ticked by. Sophie stood in place just in front of him as if considering her next move. He couldn’t see her, but he could smell her tart vapors and hear her exhaling angrily through her nose. He suddenly remembered pissing himself in fear of her two days prior and thanked the stars he had just emptied his bladder.
He startled as her running shoe took a step on the carpet. Then another. Then a chair slid out and creaked as she sat down. A metal cover lifted, then others, then multiple nested together clanking on the table like muffled cymbals. Finally, the sounds of silverware hitting ceramic and chewing filled the room. The pace of consumption seemed almost frantic.
“Stand up and make yourself useful,” Sophie said flatly, with food in her mouth.
Tom scrambled to his feet and stepped toward Sophie. Her hand quickly shot out and slapped his erect penis.
“Not so close! Can’t you see I’m eating?” she said angrily as she shoveled a whole pancake in her mouth.
He cowered and watched as she ravenously scarfed down food from every plate, interspersed by mouthfuls of fruit and pastries.
“Well? Pour me some juice and water. And steep me some green tea.” Sophie ordered, seemingly out of breath from her frenzied gorging. “Now!”
Tom did as he was told, then stepped back again and watched her down two whole glasses of juice and a cup of water, each in one gulp.
“When you are at my service, I expect you to kneel at my side and wait attentively for my next instruction,” Sophie said tersely between bites. “On your knees, now!”
Tom hastily dropped to his knees. Within 10 seconds, Sophie spoke again:
“Pour my tea and sweeten it with honey.”
Tom skittered to his feet and prepared her tea. He noticed that she was sweating again, and that despite the food, all he could smell was her.
“At my service!” she barked.
Tom dropped to his knees at her side, realizing it was a new command for his repertoire. His cheeks reddened, and for a moment he considered objecting to the degrading treatment. To his immediate regret, her body tensed, and he knew she could sense his errant thoughts.
“Do you realize how much work this is for me?” she said without looking at him, maintaining a steady voice.
Yet gölbaşı rus escort bayan her rage was evident. She calmly took a sip of tea and set her cup down. Then she spun swiftly in her chair, grabbed a clump of his hair and pulled his head close, just under her face.
“Do you understand that this is all for you?” she spat out with contempt. “Just to keep your pathetic little body fed. I even ordered everything healthy and organic to ensure the purity of my milk and aid in your development.”
Tom was speechless. He had never considered the true effort it took her to produce enough milk for him. Most mothers had a mere infant to feed. Her baby was a grown man. Before he could recover from his shock, she spoke again like a stern matron:
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
Tom’s face turned beet red at the shame of his transgression and her displeasure — an emotion far more intense than the embarrassment of kneeling at her side.
“I-I’m sorry I-I considered q-questioning you, M-miss,” Tom stammered, looking meekly into her fierce green eyes. “Thank you for your amazing efforts to produce milk for me so that I can grow and be better for you.”
“Open your mouth!”
Tom complied, and immediately a large strand of spit fell onto his tongue. To his own surprise, he swallowed it greedily and opened his mouth again. His neck craned feverishly, like a chick desperate for a worm.
“I know you’re wildly thirsty for me little one. I can feel it,” she said, her voice turning sympathetic as she dribbled more saliva down. Then she reached a hand under her closest breast and hefted it, “But there’s no more milky left in Mama’s boobies.”
She pursed her cheeks and swirled her tongue around her mouth, then fed him another dollop.
“So you’ll have to make do with whatever else Mama’s body has to offer,” she added sweetly, then released his hair and turned to resume eating.
“Thank you, Mama,” Tom responded, then added with deep devotion, “I love you, Mama.”
Sophie grunted a curt acknowledgement as she gobbled down an egg.
Tom settled back onto his knees at her side. After a few moments she spoke with a full mouth.
“Demonstrate your devotion.”
Tom’s stomach turned as he momentarily blanked at the meaning of her command. He knelt motionless, wracking his brain.
“If I have to ask twice, then we’ll be done for the morning and I will be forced to reconsider your training,” Sophie said severely, staring forward as she took a large bite of Belgian waffle with whipped cream. “A boy who can’t remember a simple command is of questionable value to me.”
Tom visibly winced as he realized the thinness of the ice on which he stood on, and how close she would always be to pulling the plug on their arrangement. His brain kicked into overdrive and her lessons gushed into his conscious mind. As if every rule she had ever taught him were now carved onto a stone tablet, like a sacred list of eternal commandments.
He immediately dropped to his hands and crawled under the table. Turning to face her sculpted legs, he reverently lowered his head and kissed five times across the tips of each of her long black Nike trainers, fringed in pastel green.
“Good boy,” she said with a clipped voice. “Now remove my shoes.”
He immediately set about untying and taking off her first shoe, careful to set it neatly to the side, out from under the table. He noticed that her bright green ankle sock matched the accent color of the shoe, and that it was soaked through with her sweat.
He carefully set her first foot down and felt a cool sensation as the moisture of her sock transferred to his hand and evaporated. Without thinking, he licked his hand before the last of it disappeared. His stomach grumbled.
He lifted her other foot, untied the shoe and slipped it off. Before setting it down he pushed back the tongue and looked at the label. Size 13. He didn’t know much about women’s shoe sizes, but he remembered his wife Lisa wore a 6.5.
He shivered at the comparison and was suddenly overcome by the memory of slipping on Sophie’s ballet flats and feeling his smaller foot slide around inside. He had an urge to put her shoe on right then, but he knew she wouldn’t approve. Instead, he considered sliding his hard cock inside the damp, warm space, and yet again he predicted her harsh rebuke. Then he finally settled on a safer course of action.
He raised the shoe to his face and shoved his nose deep into the opening until the sides touched his cheeks. Then he inhaled deeply. His cock almost spurted as the charged damp air filled his lungs. A drip of pre-cum fell on his thigh, a portent of how close he had been.
“On your back, now,” Sophie issued an edict from above.
Tom quickly set the shoe next to the other and rolled onto his back on the carpet, his legs pointed under the table. Immediately her two feet planted on his face, and she took his nose between her arches. Her wet socks were like a hot towel, reminding him of the perfumed ones the stewardesses handed out in first class. But instead, they were gloriously infused with the fragrance of Sophie’s exertion.
“Since you love the way they smell, this position should suit you much better,” she said, reading his mind.
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