Chapter 137: [137] MAYAA!!

The TV screen flickered back to life in a blink.

A mature woman filled the frame, draped in a thin black gown so sheer it clung to every curve of her hourglass body like wet, translucent skin. The neckline plunged so obscenely deep that the soft, heavy inner slopes of her side-boobs spilled freely into view, the dark edges of her areolas barely hidden. With every shaky breath her thick D-cup tits bounced and strained against the fabric, nipples already stiff and poking hard through the thin material. Her head was thrown back, long hair cascading down the sofa, mouth hanging wide open, thick tongue lolling out as wet, guttural, shameless moans poured from her throat.

"Yes... yes... fuck yes~!"

Her beauty was devastatingly sinful. Just looking at her was enough to make any man’s cock throb painfully hard and leak precum down the shaft yet no one would dare imagine raping her. The only image that came to mind was a tight black leather collar locked around their own throat, crawling naked on all fours while she held the leash and dragged them across the floor like a used toy.Read ahead on my site- lustchild.wordpress.com

Exactly like the scene playing out on screen.

The woman sat sprawled on a wide leather sofa, gown flipped all the way up over her hips, exposing the full, soft skin of her thick thighs and the dripping, puffy cunt of between them. A completely naked man in his twenties knelt between her spread legs, a tight black collar biting into his neck. His face was buried deep in the crook of her crotch, nose pressed hard against her swollen clit, tongue greedily licking and smooching over her fluttering, juice-slick pussy lips. Thick, creamy strings of her cunt nectar already smeared across his chin, cheeks, and the tip of his nose, dripping down onto his bare chest.

Her right hand was buried deep in his hair, long nails digging hard into his scalp, forcing his mouth tighter against her dripping folds until his lips were stretched wide around her fat, twitching pussy. The long leather leash was wrapped tightly around her other wrist, yanking him forward every time he tried to pull back even a fraction for breath.

"Angh~ Yes! Lick the side properly... drag that filthy tongue over my labia... aah~ That’s it... suck on it..."

Every second that passed made her more aroused. Her nails sank deeper, hard enough that little beads of blood began welling under them. A muffled, pained groan vibrated straight against her dripping cunt. The man’s hand shot up in reflex and pressed against the soft inner flesh of her thigh—

Smack!

She ripped his face away from her cunt with a wet, obscene schlick and cracked her open palm across his cheek so hard his head whipped to the side, spit flying from his mouth. He stared up at her in pure horror.

The soft, debauched expression from a moment ago was gone. In its place was the cold, icy face of a CEO who owned everything she looked at including the pathetic little slave that was currently serving her fat cunt devotedly.

"You dare touch me with those filthy hands?"

Another heavy slap. Then another. She fisted his hair tightly, discarded the leash for a moment, and kept cracking her palm across both cheeks until clear, burning red handprints bloomed on his skin and his eyes watered.

"Letting you bury your face in my cunt and lick up my juices is already a blessing you don’t deserve. Don’t overstep. Don’t for a single second think I’m interested in that pathetic, shriveled little cock of yours, or that I’ll ever let you slide it inside me just because you serve my pussy so devotedly."

She yanked the leash again, forcing his head back until his throat was fully exposed and his mouth hung open.

"You are a slave. A slave does not desire his master’s body. A slave only serves."

Her voice dropped to a low, commanding purr that made his cock jump.

"Open your mouth. Wide."

The man parted his trembling lips as far as they would go, tongue out, chest heaving.

Thick strings of her cunt juice still stretched between his lips.

The woman lifted her heavy hips slightly, aimed her filthy, glistening crotch at his open mouth, and released.

PISSSSSS—

A thick, golden stream shot out of her pisshole in a powerful arc. The first hot jets landed square on his nose, warm and stinking, dripping down over his upper lip and pouring straight into his waiting mouth.

She adjusted the angle with a little roll of her hips. The stream splattered across his forehead in thick golden beads, running down his eyebrows, eyelashes, eyes, cheeks, and finally flooding the hollow of his open mouth. The heavy, bitter, ammonia stench and filthy taste flooded his tongue and nose. He swallowed every drop greedily, gulping the warm, salty piss down his throat like it was the sweetest nectar, Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow.

When the last trickle ended, a few final drops clinging to her puffy pisshole, the woman relaxed against the back of the sofa with a long, satisfied sigh. Her cunt was still twitching, shiny with leftover juices and piss.

"Lick every single drop that fell on the floor. I want those tiles so clean that even if I rub my ass there, not a single droplet would stain my soft skin." The woman ordered lazily.

The man dropped to all fours without hesitation. His tongue draggeded out and he began lapping at the golden puddles on the floor like a thirsty animal, long, slow strokes of his tongue collecting every warm, stinking droplet and gulping it down his throat. The woman smiled coldly and pressed the sharp tip of her high-heeled boot into the center of his spine, grinding down hard until a thick, pained groan escaped him and his cock twitched helplessly pointing at the cold tiled floor.

Ring~ Ring~

The phone beside her lit up. She picked it up, spoke a few quiet, clipped words, then typed something into the search bar with one manicured finger.

In the room, everyone stared at the screen in confused silence—

Everyone except Kira and Marcella.

Kira’s face had gone paper-white. Her heart was hammering so hard it felt ready to burst through her ribs. A thick, shameful trickle of of her own pee ran down her inner thigh as she watched the woman she thought she knew dominate a grown man like he was nothing more than a living toilet. She had never known this side of her.

"What kind of random porn are you showing us?!" Anna snapped, voice sharp with forced confidence, though her eyes kept flicking back to the wet, glistening cunt on screen.

"We don’t even know her!"

She was already trying to relax, convinced Marcella had simply pulled up the wrong video.

Marcella’s lips curved into a slow, delighted, filthy purr. Her own cunt clenched visibly under her.

"Oh, dear... just wait a few more seconds. You’ll get your answer very soon~."

Her eyes flicked sideways to Daniel for a heartbeat. A thick, dirty, wide smile bloomed across her flushed face, eyes shining with pure obsessive lust. Daniel felt a cold, heavy dread settle deep in his chest, his cock still fully erect, cum-slick walls. His eyes stayed locked on the screen while Lara, still cum-drunk and hopeless, kept licking and kissing his chin and lips with soft, wet, slutty smooching sounds, her soft tits pressed against his chest.

Back on the screen the woman had been lounging lazily until whatever video appeared on her phone made her entire body jolt upright. She shoved the collared man hard onto the floor with the sole of her boot, his face still shiny with her piss and cunt juices.

"What—?!"

Her fingers flew across the screen, opening one video after another. Her expression darkened with every second, cold fury building behind her eyes.

"Who dares?!" she screamed into the phone, voice sharp enough to cut glass. "I want everything that happened there. Every single detail on the culprit."

~~~

Kira’s voice cracked into a broken whisper.

"It’s... it’s Fan’s mother..."

Anna’s eyes widened in pure shock. That elegant, terrifying woman with the dripping cunt and the piss-soaked slave was the mother of Fan, the same pathetic, leeching dog?

Before the information could even settle, Marcella dropped the next bomb in a soft, almost cheerful, honeyed voice.

"And Fan’s mother... is the wife of the underworld criminal Mr. Mo."

Both Kira and Anna froze solid.

Mr. Mo.

The name that never left the news. The man whose underlings had recently gunned down a popular actor right after a fan meeting simply because his wife had casually said she liked the actor’s face. Pure, murderous, possessive jealousy.

"No... Moth—Mother...!" Kira choked out, voice breaking, tears already welling in her eyes.

Anna’s heart slammed against her ribs so hard it hurt. If that woman really was Mr. Mo’s wife, then their entire families were already in danger. She whipped her head back toward the screen just as the woman on the other end of the call screamed a name that made every drop of blood drain from Kira’s face in an instant.

"MAYYYYYYAAAAAAAA—!!!!"

Kira’s mother’s name.

Every color vanished from Kira’s skin. Her lips parted. Her pupils shrank. A thin, involuntary stream of pure terror-pee ran down her inner thigh and soaked into the chair as she—