Taming Jeanne (6)
With those words, Jeanne stuck out her tongue and slipped Yeoul's cock into her mouth. The taste of his shaft against her tongue was salty yet sweet. It was soft and squishy. Or rather, wriggling? It was a sensation Jeanne had never felt before, having only ever taken Yeoul's cock when it was rock-hard and erect. She found it a little amusing how it undulated in response to her tongue's movements.
But as the stimulation made his cock start swelling inside her mouth, that leisure vanished in an instant.
"Mmph...?!"
Her jaw and lips stretched wider and wider until his shaft revealed its true girth—thicker than an ordinary woman's wrist. The glans pressed firmly against her uvula, intensifying the ticklish itch deep in her throat. But this wasn't enough. She needed this massive, thick cock to plunge deep into her throat, pounding relentlessly.
Deeper...!
Jeanne detached her head from her body entirely, then gripped it herself and slammed it downward.
"Glurk—GLORCH—"
The cock that had been pressing her uvula slid past, battering the back of her throat and scraping along the walls as it burrowed deep inside. Even as tears streamed from her compressed tear ducts and her face mashed against his irritating pubic hair, she didn't stop forcing her head down to accommodate him. Finally, with her head smashed against his lower abdomen like she was hammering it in place, she felt the shaft push past her neck stump, through the throat attached to her body, and press against her collarbone. A profound satisfaction washed over Jeanne.
It was the sense of stability and fulfillment, as if everything had returned to its rightful place.
Just like this... for a little while...♥
Jeanne planned to stay like this until Yeoul woke up. But she overlooked one crucial fact: Yeoul always woke up to Brina and Slami's wake-up blowjobs.
Thud—
"Grk?!"
Jeanne froze in shock as Yeoul's hand suddenly grabbed her head.
"Mm. Isn't it a bit early today, Brina?"
As always, Yeoul assumed it was Brina waking him with her morning blowjob. Without even opening his eyes, he gripped the head sucking his cock.
Does he think I'm Brina?
Fortunately, he seemed to have mistaken her for Brina in his half-asleep daze. As Jeanne inwardly sighed in relief and pondered how to escape without being caught, carefully trying to pull her head back, Yeoul continued.
"Haaah~ I wanna sleep more... I'll cum quick, so lemme rest a bit longer."
Slam—
"Glurk?! ♥"
With that, Yeoul gripped her head and began roughly pistoning it to make himself cum fast. His cock, which had half-slipped out of her throat pussy, plunged back in deep, stabbing relentlessly. It wasn't gentle gliding along her passage—no, it scraped and gouged her walls, used solely for his pleasure. There was no consideration for his partner at all; it was the brutal handling of an object. Jeanne panicked even as satisfaction bloomed within her.
I'd have hated this before... but being treated like a thing feels this good?
The fulfillment of being used 'properly' like an object, the pleasure from the pain of his savage thrusts, and the thrill of deceiving him—it all combined into perfect bliss.
As he used her throat pussy, Yeoul muttered.
"Mm, something feels different today? Your tongue work is..."
'......!!!'
Having been passively used until now, Jeanne had let her guard down. At his words, she hurriedly began working her tongue. It was her first time doing it actively, so it came out awkward. But the moment she'd resolved to serve him, her onahole instincts instinctively told her how to use her tongue to please his cock.
She licked as her instincts guided her, and his shaft twitched in response.
"Ngh... That's good. Keep doing that."
His immediate reaction to her tongue and his pleased words filled Jeanne with a strange satisfaction—and amusement.
This is kinda fun.
Once she'd shed her resistance to being used sexually like an object, all that remained was pleasure. With her tongue play added, Yeoul's movements quickened as his climax built. Jeanne soon felt his cock swell hugely in her throat pussy and on her tongue.
Ah, here it comes♥
"Ngh...! Cumming!"
Spuuuurt—
"Glurk...♥♥ Gulp—gulp—gulp—♥"
Fresh, thick semen produced overnight gushed straight into the deepest part of her throat. She'd felt it many times, but Yeoul's cum volume was abnormal. The sheer amount meant his orgasms lasted forever. Each spurt poured out long and steady, like he was pissing. The thought made Jeanne shudder.
At this rate, I'm not an onahole—I'm a cum toilet...♥
Imagining Yeoul pissing semen and herself receiving it like a toilet sent a jolt of pleasure through her, as if his cock had slammed her womb. Her masochism trait, Masochism, turned not just physical pain into pleasure, but mental humiliation too. The more pathetic she felt, the more intense it became—an incurable state.
Unaware of this, Jeanne climaxed repeatedly, savoring the semen battering her esophagus and stomach.
"Hoo... Feels great. Guess I'll sleep more... yawn~"
After his refreshing release, Yeoul let go of her head—still impaled on his cock—and drifted back to sleep, as promised.
'......Is he really asleep?'
She was baffled by how he'd used her so intensely then just conked out, but it was a relief regardless. Thanks to her Level 4 growth increasing her semen capacity, Jeanne quickly regained her senses. She carefully lifted her head without a sound. As his cock slipped from her mouth, the sense of finality left her with lingering regret.
I'll be used by him plenty more in the future... no need to show my eagerness first.
She acknowledged her perverted side and accepted being used sexually by him, but her pride remained. It was ridiculous for an onahole, but she didn't want to seem like a cheap slut.
Though he only sees me as an object anyway.
It was absurd, but the heart was fickle like that. Even toward the man she'd hated, she now cared about not seeming cheap. Jeanne gazed down at his sleeping face.
Honestly, she still couldn't understand Yeoul's mindset. Was he a passionate adventurer, a dedicated swordsman, or just a pervert? His moods swung wildly. He treated onahole women like mere objects for his lust, yet showed no interest in human women. More ruthless than the demon god who'd dragged her undead life into the even more pathetic state of an onahole. That was the Yeoul she'd known.
He was her enemy, yet now... he didn't feel so hateful. No, rather...
Ah, I see. I've already...
A ticklish emotion bubbled up from deep inside. Jeanne didn't know exactly what it was—slave-like submission, knightly loyalty, or the obedience bred into her onahole body? Maybe all of it, or none. But one thing was certain: Yeoul had carved a deep place in her heart.
"Frankly, I still don't fully get it, but... being with you doesn't seem so bad anymore."
Jeanne brushed back his bangs.
"A warrior shouldn't look so damn pretty anyway..."
She blushed at his face, then covered his eyes with one hand and kissed his exposed forehead.
Mwah—
After the brief kiss, her face flushed crimson, Jeanne lifted her head and pretended to sleep on the bed as if nothing had happened—until the morning sun rose and Yeoul and the other two onaholes woke.
...
"Mmm~ haa... Feels great. Thanks, Brina. But you don't need to do it twice in the morning. I'll wash up first?"
As usual, Yeoul woke to Brina's morning blowjob, creampied her throat pussy, then headed to the bathroom.
"......?"
Left behind, Brina stood with her mouth full of his semen, her mind a sea of question marks. Twice? She'd woken at her usual time and given her standard wake-up blowjob.
Gulp. "This taste... definitely thinner than Master's usual first load. Like someone beat me to it."
After swallowing the rest, Brina spoke loudly enough for the still-sleeping onaholes to hear.
"I don't know who it was... but morning blowjob duty is my role. Master's first load every day is mine by right. I'll let it slide this once since you didn't know. Don't do it again."
With that, Brina hurried to the kitchen to prepare breakfast while Yeoul washed up.
'......Scary as hell.'
Pretending to sleep, Jeanne swallowed hard at Brina's refined killing intent. Brina was weaker than her, so what was this pressure? The fury of an onahole robbed of her master's first load transcended raw power—it was something inherent to onaholes. Though unspoken, Brina's words targeted her directly. Jeanne vowed never to do it again.