Fertility Crisis 4

Scott mouthed her nipples, seemed to want to swallow them. Barda’s pussy was wet and hot with subservience. She pressed it down into the hard muscles of Scott’s stomach, feeling his engorged cock twitch against the curve of her ass, like the handle of a whip being cracked… every throb of it reminding her of her place and the pleasure obedience would bring.

“Tell me what to wear, what to eat, even who I’m allowed to talk to. I want everything I do to please you. Everyone must know how good a master you are… that you can control my every move!”

As haplessly as a rabbit hypnotized by a snake, Barda’s left hand reached back and took hold of Scott’s thick cock. She held it down as if it were a dangerous animal while slipping herself above it, then, lowering herself to its testing entry. She moaned and cursed as she broached herself with its stiffness, gasping at the familiar pain of being impaled, being owned by such a master.

Then, giddy with delight at the pleasure that quickly rushed in, pinning her between her lust to serve Scott and the joys of being filled so thoroughly, Barda began to bounce. Gyrating her hips, undulating her body, throwing all of herself into service to the massive penetration that was now the symbol, the zenith, of her loving submission.

The muscles of her cunt squeezed Scott’s manhood in continuing reassurance that such bliss was real—Scott gritted his teeth as he bore the intensity of sex with Barda. But how could he say no to such a woman writhing and wailing above him? A performance barely constrained by his hands up on her breasts, fingers sinking into their fulsome resilience.

With his hands holding Barda somewhat in check, he was free to use his lips and teeth and tongue on her turgid nipples. Barda’s eyes rolled as Scott made use of her: owned not just by his cock, but his touch, his kisses. If only his manly voice would command her as well, bringing her ecstasy to a head.

“Tell me I’m a slut!” Barda moaned. “A nasty, dirty, disgusting little slut!”

“Little?” Scott asked, his voice muffled between her creamy breasts.

Panting, Barda pulled Scott’s face deeper between her saliva-wet tits. Her hips pumped harder on his long member, delighted as ever with how wonderfully it fit her velvet sex.

“Tell me!”

“You’re a slut, dear.”

Muscles clenching, roiling, Scott slammed himself up into Barda, her thickly muscled form well able to stand the onslaught—though Barda’s mind seemed to lack the same capacity. Her pupils weaved around, disappeared behind shut eyelids, Barda phasing from mindless frenzy to overwhelmed satiation.

Scott reached around Barda and hugged her to him. His fingers drove deep into the firm flesh of her ass. His teeth tore at her reddened nipples. It was all too much for Barda. She came and could not keep up her riding. Hands tangled in her own hair, she ground her sex down on Scott’s upthrust cock and trusted his mastery to fully satisfy her. Such a potent man would not be sated until long after her frail and delicate body had given out.

As though she were riding a roller coaster, Barda whooped joyously as she was buffeted by wave after delicious wave of mind-blowing climax. It never seemed to stop. Caught in the grip of total sexual obeisance, her rapture dipped and rose and tore at her with furious paroxysms, then subsided, then took her again to prove beyond any shadow of a doubt who she belonged to.

Barda didn’t know how long it took for Scott to finish with her. But of course, he favored her with his emission. Gripping her roughly, boring into her, deeper than ever for one last delicious blast of pain before she was submerged in complete bliss. She was in a heaven made just for her and her god was Scott Free.

“Ohhhh! Owww! Ahhh! Nuugghh!” Barda howled, hovering on the line between pleasure and pain, the agony of anticipation, until Scott rutted into her again and she was delivered, her pussy clenching, her eyes rolled up in perfect satiation. He would not be thrusting into her like this unless she was the most perfect pussy for his big cock.

She concentrated on keeping her balance. It was all she could do and it was more than enough, as Scott bucked into her again and again. She was not so easily moved; he was free to pound her as hard as he wanted. He held her tight and made sure his good little sheath didn’t go anywhere, plunging his cock deep, putting it so far into her that not one drop of precious cum would be able to find its way out.

Then he was spurting into her, so much cum it felt like she was nothing but a receptacle and him nothing but an instrument designed to give her this pure, exquisite delight.

Barda rolled off Scott, knowing she had a pleasurable interval to look forward to of being truly defeated, out of breath, sore and utterly drained. She didn’t want to stop mounting Scott, but if she stayed on top of him, all that potent seed would leak out of her. Far better to lay gasping and groaning with her man, feeling slathered in sweat and seeing Scott glow with the passion he’d expended in her.

Tenderly she kissed his brow. “I can’t live without your cock, master.”

With the arm around her hulking body, Scott patted her hip. “I know, dear,” he yawned.

“I love you, master.”

“I love you too, sweetie.”

Barda pouted and nipped at Scott’s ear. She knew they’d have to go back to the bland endearments that would allow them to blend in the polite, dull-eyed Earthers. It wasn’t for them to know of Scott’s true mastery over her… at least, not too much. Such a thing should be obvious, as far as she was concerned. Who else could be worthy of counting Big Barda as one of his conquests?

“Scotttttt,” she drawled whinily.

Scott squeezed her hip hard. “You’re a very good bitch, Barda. I love having a cock-hungry slut like you as my slave. And I want you to think up some new ways to beg for my prick the next time I dominate you. I don’t want to hear that you’ll die without my cum again.”

Barda sighed joyously. It was so good to be married to a real man.

***

I need to call Diana, Dinah thought. Not just that, but she needed to call Diana regularly, a lot more often than she did. Because that tall Amazon bitch was the only one she could think of who could give her what Barda—and Scott—had just been fortunate enough to enjoy.

It was true, she and Wonder Woman saw each other a few times a month, superheroing, but except to exchange greetings they didn’t talk a lot. Much less do anything close to what they had done back on the Satellite.

Dinah reached down into her panties and felt her wetness. Her sex wouldn’t stop throbbing and it was pure ecstasy to touch. She could just feel Diana’s mouth on it. Then she remembered what Barda’s cunt had looked like with Scott stuffing it full and she wondered what the hell that had felt like—what had made Barda curse and swoon and degrade herself—

No, stop thinking about it. Dinah remembered how sweet and sensual it had been with Diana. The woman simply loved eating pussy. Dinah flushed with embarrassment, thinking now of her own reluctance. She hadn’t even wanted to smell the other woman’s cunt. Which Diana was so understanding of. Of course she was. She’d just let Dinah lie back and licked her to her heart’s content. To both their heart’s content. It’d been wonderful.

But it hadn’t made her scream with gratitude to be someone’s bitch, like Barda had just been doing.

Dinah chided herself for her wandering thoughts even as she drove her middle finger up her pussy and began to play. She should’ve done it while Scott and Barda were performing so lasciviously, pleasuring herself while enjoying the spectacle, but she’d been so shocked by what she’d stumbled onto that she had simply watched, awestruck, trying faintly to recall a time when she’d come as hard as Barda so obviously had.