Washing My Onahole: The Line I Drew
Washing the onahole. Yeah, that was exactly where I drew the line. The realization had firmly taken root: if it came down to saving a life—even a fellow human's—I could use my Unique Authority on them. Of course, it would be best if such a situation never arose, but since I couldn't predict every possible crisis, setting this boundary was crucial.
Whoosh—
"Haa~"
After a quick shower, I filled the hotel bathtub with warm water and soaked my body, watching Brina clumsily experiment with human bathing products she'd never seen before. She squeezed some shampoo into her palm and sniffed it curiously.
"Is this perfume, perhaps?"
"Nah, just shampoo. Come here."
It was only natural she had no experience with it, so I called her over to the tub, sat her down in front of me, scooped some shampoo, and washed her hair myself.
"For Master to wash me personally..."
I undid her usual ponytail and lathered her pink hair. Brina looked utterly honored, sitting ramrod straight with wide eyes—until some suds got in them, making her flinch in surprise. I chuckled at her reaction and rinsed her hair thoroughly.
"Eep?!"
She let out the cutest squeak at the sudden cascade. I ran my fingers through her locks one more time to check for residue.
Does the restoration also fix damaged hair?
Her hair was silky smooth, without a single tangle. It barely even needed washing.
Well, duh. If it can regenerate a hymen, hair damage is child's play.
After shampooing her hair and cleansing her face with foam, I moved on to her body. Not that I'd ever washed a woman before—I treated her like a large onahole. With a real one, you'd wipe the exterior with neutral detergent and either evert it for internal cleaning or use a dedicated rod if that wasn't feasible. But Brina was a living onahole with sensations, so I applied body wash just like I would on a person, scrubbing gently.
"Stand straight and lift your arms? Both of them."
I started with her arms raised high, rubbing them down softly. Every time my hands touched her skin, her fingers twitched like she was ticklish, but she held still obediently.
Feeling her warm, supple skin, I slid down to her sensitive armpits.
"Eek?!"
Her smooth, hairless pits were even softer than the rest. I circled my thumbs meticulously over them.
"Hngh, hick."
Whether from tickling or something else, her face flushed crimson as she clenched her fingers and toes, desperately enduring.
Unable to move due to my command, she just wiggled her digits adorably.
This is more fun than I thought.
Unlike the self-loathing drudgery of cleaning a lifeless onahole after use, Brina's vivid reactions made the whole process entertaining. After tormenting her armpits enough, I moved to her breasts.
Splash—
Her massive tits somehow retained their perfect shape despite their size, with incredible bounce. I coated my hands in body wash and scrubbed every inch meticulously—especially where they met her torso, the fleshy creases.
The slippery texture from the soap was blissfully soft, no matter how many times I touched them.
"Hngh, hnnng...!"
I hadn't told her to lower her arms, so she stayed posed, twitching her fingers and toes as I fondled her breasts. By now, it was less about cleaning and more about savoring her reactions. I avoided her areolas and nipples, teasing only around them and along the milk ducts, kneading her tits languidly.
Nearly ten minutes of this, and Brina was panting heavily, pleading with me.
"P-please touch my nipples too, Master...! Please...!"
Her arousal peaked; she thrust her chest forward, heaving breaths ragged. Her puffy areolas and erect nipples twitched desperately, begging for contact. She was so wound up, a mere nip would send her over the edge.
I leaned in close, as if to take a nipple in my mouth.
"Just a little more...!"
Contrary to her hopes of climaxing from the bite, I hovered my lips right at her nipple and blew a gentle puff of breath.
"Fuu~"
"Hgiit...!? ♥"
Squirt—
The mere breath on her nipple triggered a light orgasm. But it wasn't enough to fully release her; the pent-up pleasure lingered, intensifying her craving for a bigger one.
"...You're so mean, Master."
She seemed to grasp my intent. Yet her eyes held no complaint—only eager anticipation, the gaze of a bitch wondering how much greater the next peak would be.
To reward that, I smoothed over her slim waist and toned abs, her cute navel, the slight womb-bulge of her lower belly, kneaded her firm ass, then her short but thick, juicy thighs and calves, down to her dainty little toes.
"Haa, haa. Master, hurry..."
I'd skipped her pussy and anus entirely, leaving her gazing up at me with desperate, lust-glazed eyes. Her stare fixed on my throbbing erection, ready to burst.
Excusing it as "washing," I'd teased her curves to my own max arousal. Like finally claiming the strawberry on a long-awaited cake, I gripped her thighs and spread her legs.
As if she'd waited for this moment, she parted wide, displaying her neat slit and pinkish anus.
Her clit had emerged erect; her anus winked in anticipation. Her plump labia formed a perfect straight line, utterly tempting.
"This spot needs the most thorough cleaning, so I'll use my tongue special."
I dove in without waiting for a reply, engulfing her pussy in my mouth. I lapped broadly with my tongue while pressing her swollen clit with my front teeth.
"Eugh?! ♥ Nnnghooh...!! ♥♥♥"
Squirt— Splurt—
Her body, hypersensitive from full-body foreplay, erupted in beastly moans as she squirted wildly into orgasm.
Sweet.
I'd noticed last time too—her pussy juice was sweeter than expected. Like an electrolyte drink quenching thirst. A bit viscous, but not unpleasantly so. I slurped up every drop flooding my mouth.
"M-Master! You can't drink that?! ♥ It's dirty... ♥"
Legs quaking, arms still raised, pussy vulnerably sucked—yet even mid-climax, she fretted over me drinking her fluids.
"Pwah—. Dirty? It's sweet and delicious."
Body fluids were usually waste, hence the disgust. But Brina, as a perfect onahole, didn't sweat or need the bathroom. Everything from her body was harmless to me—made for me.
No reason not to drink from an onahole existing solely for my pleasure.
"Pwah~. Hmm, tongue can't reach deep inside, though. What should we do, Brina? Oh, you can relax your pose now."
I'd sucked her pussy to leave lip marks. Perched on the tub's edge, I asked. Freed from the pose, she collapsed, legs trembling from the intense suction.
"Huh? Calling it quits?"
As I wondered if I'd overdone it, Brina crawled over on all fours, body wash in her mouth, ass swaying like it had a tail. She set it down between my legs, squeezed a huge glob into her palms, and slathered it thickly on my cock.
"I never said to wash my dick."
"Only Master's cock can thrust all the way to the womb in Brina's onahole pussy. ♥"
I blinked at that, but she just grinned silently, climbing my legs until she stood on the tub bottom, her short height now perfectly level with my seated eyes. She slowly squatted, aiming to insert.
Then it hit me: she wanted my dick as her cleaning rod, scrubbing her insides with body wash.
Genius idea—but she couldn't line it up. No matter how rigid I was, without aim, no entry.
"Wh-where'd it go?"
Panicking at the mismatch, she flailed her arms downward blindly. Even trying to look, her massive tits blocked the view; she couldn't spot my cock to guide it.
Bounce~ Bounce~
Her groping made those huge breasts jiggle right in my face. Losing patience, I grabbed her waist, aligned her over my shaft, and pulled her down.
"Not there—here..!"