Sloane pursed their lips to the side, checking down the list of specs
on the streaming software they had set up for their webcam. Their heart
was pounding in their chest; they couldn’t believe that they were going
to go through with this. It was the next step in their comfort with
themself, though, the conclusion of their personal journey of
self-acceptance.
The stream booted up. They could see
their face in the monitor – slim, freckled, brown eyes, black-rimmed
glasses. Their shoulder-length hair was dyed pastel green, with some
brown at the roots where they needed a touch-up. They leaned back,
sitting up on their bed, and waved with a nervous smile.
“Hello! Is the stream working okay?”
Their
eyes flickered to a litany of agreement in the stream chat. They
coughed, looking back into the camera and shrugging their shoulders
back. A pair of exceptionally large breasts were nestled behind an
argyle-print woollen sweater vest over a plain white blouse.
“Welcome
to my Stretch Goal Stream! As you all know, I promised a very special
treat for all my sponsors if my Sponseor hit fifteen hundred a month,
and well…”
They held their arms out with a silly grin.
“I can’t thank you all enough for your love and support! Part of why I
started my Muddlr was to become more comfortable with myself, to learn
to love myself, and you’ve been so important for that, even before I
started Sponseor for people who wanted to support my journey.”
The
side of their mouth curled up, and they gently shook their chest. “Of
course, you’re not here to hear me tell you how great you are, are you?
You’re here for an intimate night with Princess Penis.”
The
chat exploded with agreement, and they giggled. They sat back on the
bed with their legs apart, showing off their black skirt, thigh-high
white socks and black pumps, as well as their vast, thick thighs that
led up to a rear the skirt struggled to cover.
“Of
course, you’d all remember the Sponseor poll for what I’d wear for this
stream – and no, “nothing” wasn’t an acceptable option, despite its
popularity.” They stuck out their tongue. “Naughty librarian” was the
winner, so you’ll notice that I’ve chosen a fetching ensemble that
suggests what I could do for you without too much… Advertising, let’s
say.”
They bit their lip, staring at the camera. “Of
course you all know my wardrobe options are a little limited – and none
of you have a problem with that, do you?”
They crossed their arms under their bust, and winked. “So, what questions do you have for your naughty librarian?”
Their
heart was still hammering as the chat scrolled, despite their calm and
lascivious exterior. They kept reminding them that it was a safe space –
a space of their most dedicated fans. Their eyes spotted the first
question.
They raised their eyebrows. “I’m legal, if that’s what you were worried about. I’m twenty-four.”
More
questions flashed up, some ordinary, some exceptionally lewd. They felt
their breathing grow heavier as their body started to react, their
libido surging. They pulled their arms under the hem of their sweater
and slipped it up, revealing the blouse buttoned tightly over their lush
body which prickled with a cold sweat of fear.
Of
course, they’d been less clothed than this before on their Muddlr blog.
They’d done all manner of unspeakable things, but only in stills. Not on
a live broadcast, like this. It brought back all sorts of memories for
them – not great ones, memories of trying to hide themself while
changing, keeping them and their body out of sight, avoiding as much
attention as possible. They’d never been able to undress even in front
of their partners, but they knew they needed to put it behind them and
force them to get more comfortable.
The next question
they grabbed – what are your measurements? They giggled as they kicked
off their high heels, wiggling their sock-clad toes at the camera. A few
of their fans had asked for custom feet pics before.
“Why
are you guys wasting time on questions that you can find on my muddlog?
My measurements are thirty-four-J, thirty, fourty-four. Well,
thirty-four-J most of the time.”
They blushed watching
an energetic round of cheering in the chat. It had taken them years to
come to terms with the fact that there were people who considered their
body attractive, not gross and fat. They’d been slim and skinny when
they were younger, but since puberty nothing they did had been able to
stop them from hourglassing out dramatically. They could feel dull
pressure building in their breasts.
The questions kept
rolling as their breathing grew heavier. One of the major milestones in
their journey had been working to transfer the trepidation and fear of
discovery they associated with their body into the slow-burn of lust
they felt constantly. They’d been moderately successful, but with the
odd side effect of gradually turning them into an exhibitionist – and
now as much as their heart was pounding in fear, they were very much
getting off on being watched.
It was obvious from how
many people were asking it what the next question had to be – why their
body was the way it was. They knew it had to be coming, but it still
caught them by surprise. They were sure their face dropped for a minute,
but they quickly replaced it with the wry smile that they’d decided was
going to be their shield for the night.
“Well now,
that’s a real question.” They began to unbutton their blouse while they
went on to answer. “The funny thing is I know, but I don’t really know. I
have an extremely rare endocrine disorder. A unique one, actually. They
think it’s something genetic, but what isn’t?”
They
pulled their blouse against them and, as well as outlining their
oversized bra, there was a thick cylindrical indentation from the bottom
of their stomach up to their sternum. Revealing that made them hold
their breath as their heart thudded, their deepest secret being
broadcast on video to the entire world.
“Whatever’s
causing it, my bloodstream is this fucked-up hormonal cocktail. There’s
shit in there that shouldn’t be there, and there’s shit in there that
shouldn’t exist. Literally like four or five compounds that they’ve
never seen before and couldn’t make in a lab if they tried.”
They got three buttons down, and leaned back slightly, revealing the bulbous head of a huge, thick penis.
Their
screenname, of course, was not simply a declaration of their interests,
it was a very relevant physical descriptor. Hitting puberty not only
unlocked their figure, but also triggered a bump to sprout in their
groin. That bump didn’t take long to turn into a small penis, which in
turn didn’t take long to turn into a moderately-sized penis, which took
not much longer to turn into a big penis. It was the core of their
insecurity, the foundation of their dysphoria and by this point a
tremendous part of their life.
They allowed themself a
silent, still moment of fear as the head peeked over the front of their
blouse, ignoring the wet patches either side of it. Of course, they’d
been doing well enough at associating their fear with their arousal that
the shock made it throb hard.
“So. This flood of weird
shit in my body is the reason for everything in front of you. It keeps
me thick and curvy and maintains this big dick that you all like so much
– plus the huge balls that feed it.”
It felt good to
sit there and explain it – they couldn’t ever bring them to tell anyone
face-to-face, and an undifferentiated mass of people who were at least
nominally on their side was the safest bet. It also felt good to let the
air caress their glans. They kept talking as they unzipped the side of
their skirt and started to slide it down their legs.
“There’s
some side effects. Nothing deadly. Couple of smaller things. I have a
high body temperature, so I get hot easily and sweat a lot. I get blood
sugar issues and have weird sleep patterns. I have an overactive
appetite, put on weight really easily, but it all goes onto my tits and
ass.”
They slipped their legs out of the skirt and
kicked it off with a curvaceous leg. Clad only in a pair of oversized
white panties was what was clearly a gigantic scrotum, each of its
testicles the size of a billiard ball. They spread their sock-clad legs
for the camera, their dick pulsing hard with the erotic thrill of
showing off.
“That’s not what you care about though, is
it sweethearts?” They winked, their balls jostling in their cloth
prison. “There are five major side effects. You probably know about
them, but let’s talk about them.”
They decided to add a
second piece of clothing to this question. They found it oddly easy to
keep talking, and it felt good to get it off their chest. They began to
unbutton the rest of their blouse, moaning happily as their cock swung
down and away from their body. It was a full fourteen inches long and
seven inches around. One of their hands couldn’t completely circle its
astounding girth. Their breasts were leaking a pale fluid.
“That’s
the first. I have a cock. I’ve had a cock for over a decade now, and
it’s grown pretty continually over that time. It’s mostly stopped
growing now, sorry to disappoint. Everything about it is completely
functional.”
They squeezed their tits, moaning lightly
as milk sprayed from their nipples. “The second is I lactate. Pretty
heavily. Around a gallon every day. Things get really painful if I don’t
drain them at least twice a day. They get fucking huge too.”
They
leaned back against the head of the bed, taking a perfect pose in front
of the camera for their audience to be able to see their face and
breasts as well as the entirety of their cock and balls, along with a
generous amount of their thick thighs.
“The third is
cyclical. I have a cycle like a woman does, but the hormones mean it’s,
well… Different. You know how girls get like a bit swollen and bloaty
when they’re on their period? My body goes nuts. My tits bloat up like
crazy, my milk goes into overdrive, I retain water everywhere and even
my cock gets bigger and leaks like crazy. My skin gets even hotter so
I’m all prickly and sweaty and bloated and sensitive. I have a different
set of clothes for when I’m on my cycle. It sucks, but I’m sure a bunch
of you guys don’t mind me getting bigger and thicker and hornier for a
few days every month, hmm?”
They gripped their huge
dick about a quarter of the way down towards the base, gently starting
to tug it up and down, taking a rattling breath before going on, slowly
jerking themself off as they spoke to their audience.
“The
fourth one is my libido. The hormones mean my sex drive is through the
roof. I’m horny more often than not, I get turned on really easily, even
when I’m not on my cycle. A slow day for me is only cumming five times.
I, uh, can’t really cum less than that.”
They reached
up and gripped one of their pillowy breasts, sending a stream of milk
squirting out across the bed as their cock lurched hard. They couldn’t
help but moan.
“That’s because of th-the last one, my
semen production. I make so much of it, constantly. Whether I’m horny or
not, whether I’m sleeping, working out, whatever-hhnng, my body just
keeps producing cum. Non-stop.”
Their hand was moving
faster across their cock now, slick rivulets of precum providing ample
lubrication. They moved their hand down underneath it, tugging their
panties off their balls and letting the bloated orbs sit free, falling
on the bed. They gasped as they tried to get on top of the sensations to
keep talking.
“Ffffuck. Mmm. And if I don’t cum often
enough, it builds up in the bottom of my tummy and my balls. I get the-
aahnng, the most painful blue balls and cramps. So I’ve gotta cum all
the time, and when I do, well, you’ll see…”
They jerked
themself off with two hands now, precum still leaking in a steady
stream from the slit of their dick. Their breasts were dripping with
milk, their face locked in exultant pleasure. It barely even entered
their head to stop and realise that they were jerking off in front of a
public audience. They grunted and whined, pale skin flushed and sweaty,
beginning to stroke faster and faster.
“Nnng. I-ffuuuck, ah-ah! Ah! I’m g-ooh, shu-shit, gonna cuu-eeeeah-uum!”
Their
eyes caught the camera, and, biting gently on their lower lip, they
kept staring with hooded eyes as their orgasm began to approach.
“W-watch me cum, watch me fucking cum you per-aah! Perverts! I’m-oh! Oh! Ohhhh-“
Their
mouth dropped open as their cock strained hard. A huge bead of pearly
cum belched out from the end and rolled down the shaft before, with
another lurch, their cock shot off hard, blasting a rope of spunk
straight up into the air and over Sloane’s body. Their abs and hips
bucked with the force of their orgasm, a deep, choking moan rolling from
their mouth.
The volume of semen was unbelievable.
Each time they shot off, Sloane pumped out two or three times as much
cum as an average man’s entire ejaculation. Their orgasm lasted a good
twenty seconds of grunting, twitching, bucking and moaning, each shot as
powerful as the last until their cock finally began to flag, twitching
and pumping out globs of cum that dripped down the shaft. Sloane’s body
was covered in thick streaks of their own spunk, including a generous
amount smeared across their face and glasses. They sat for a moment,
panting, trying to regain composure. They lifted their hand up,
examining the strings of cum between their fingers, and gave them a
long, gentle lick.
“Mm. Ugh. So that… That was one of
my orgasms. A pretty average one. I know there was that controversy
going around a while ago about whether I used fake cum in my photos,
well, there’s your answer. Last time I tried measuring it I made about
ten ounces of cum.”
They smiled at the camera through a
pearlescent coating. “And remember I have to do that five times a day,
minimum. More when I’m on my period. It gets messy. Also between that
and my leaky fucking tits I drink two gallons of water a day just to not
dehydrate.”
Their anxiety had mostly faded for now.
Having just experienced a full orgasm in the middle of revealing the
inner workings of their body in excruciating detail, they were feeling
quite comfortable with the situation, especially thanks to a glorious
afterglow. They grunted and reached down to slide their panties down
sticky legs, lifting their balls slightly to let their pussy breathe.
“More
questions, darlings?” Their eyes scanned the scrolling chat as they
idly licked cum from their hands. “Do I consider myself male or female?
Both. Especially since I’ve become more comfortable with my body. A
couple of years back I decided I was nonbinary. I prefer “they.” I don’t
like “she” but I’ll grit my teeth and take it. I do not like “he” at
all, and “it” can fuck right off, I will flip out.”
They
nestled one hand behind their balls, simultaneously playing with them
and their juicing pussy, while the other groped lightly at one of their
breasts, milk streaming down their body.
“Boyfriend?
I’ve had a couple, and a couple of girlfriends. Between my body, my
needs and my sex work I’m hard to date. I’m back and forth in a couple
of relationships right now with some really cool poly queer people
around town, so if you want to get into my pants that’s a good place to
start.”
They moaned lightly as their cock started to
pulse, slowly filling up to hardness again. They slipped two fingers
into their pussy, bringing a sudden let-down of milk from their
oversized tits. Their hand bumped against their balls with every stroke.
“Mmf.
One downside of my huge balls is it’s hard to play with my pussy, and
it’s really awkward to get dick up there. So worth it though…
Anyway-aaah, qu-questions?”
Their eyes attempted to
scan the chat even as they were unfocusing and rolling in their head.
“Uh, how often do I cu-uum? Seven or eight times on a normal day. T-ten
or eleven on my period, fffuck. “
Their cock was
rallying back to almost full hardness now, glistening with the cum from
their previous orgasm. They dropped their breast and began palming the
glans, using their thumb to tease the slit.
“Ggh. Am I
fertile? Mmm, no prizes for guessing what you’re into, perv. Yes and no.
The doctors-hnng- are pretty sure I can’t ha-aave a baby.” They stopped
stroking for a moment to answer. “Too many hormones. But they’re like
80% sure that the initial impregnation would trigger a new hormone flood
before it failed to take and give me a phantom pregnancy. God only
knows what’d happen with that, but their best guesses are it’d probably
involve my tits and ass doubling in size, growing a big swollen belly
and making ten times the amount of milk. And yes, dear, you can jerk off
to that idea, I don’t mind.”
They sat for a moment,
not touching their dick, just letting it throb and glisten, taking deep,
panting breaths. They grinned as the next question flashed up.
“Can I suck my own dick? That doesn’t sound like a question, that sounds like a request.”
They
sat up, leaned forward, tits hanging and bobbing against each other,
and suckled the fat head of their cock into their mouth, closing their
eyes with an exultant moan. They looked up with their lips stretched
around the top of their cock, staring into the camera, and put up a pair
of V signs either side of their face with a distorted smile and
sparkling eyes. They pulled their mouth off with a pop and licked their
lips.
“Starting today, I’m throwing myself 100% into my
Sponseor. Sponsor content, commissioned videos, regular chats,
slice-of-life updates and blogging, you name it. This journey has been
amazing, and I want to continue it with all of you!”
They
waved at the camera, winked, and ducked their mouth down onto their
cock again, closing their eyes and moaning as they started to suck
themself off again. Their hands rose up, cradling their breasts and
pressing them around either side of the slick, heaving shaft, gently
tugging as they began to increase the speed and ferocity of their
sucking.
The stream audio was filled with grunts, moans
and slick squishing noises. Spit, milk and precum dripped down the
sides of Sloane’s cock. When they’d first realised they were big enough
(in both parts) to do this it had been difficult to get the hang of, but
by now unless they were feeling unusually sensitive or horny that day
they generally managed to tit-fuck and suck themself to completion.
Their
abs started to flex underneath their soft midriff. Their breasts were
squirting streams across the bed and beneath their balls a wet patch was
spreading out from their pussy. It occurred to them, as their orgasm
began to build, that doing this while humping something stimulating
would feel amazing.
They felt the sensation building in
their crotch and along the underside of their cock and settled into a
consistent rhythm, carefully keeping time with the orgasmic pulses
rising up from the muscles of their crotch and pooling at the end of
their cock just below the tip until they felt themselves go over the
crest, dropping their tits and taking a deep breath through their nose
in anticipation.
With a pained, muffled moan, their
dick lurched, their hips bucked and they started shooting off straight
into their own mouth. Their eyes rolled back in their head as their
mouth filled up with their own cum before they were able to start
gulping desperately, the load visibly rolling down their throat. Grunts
and mewling noises accompanied their spasms as they unloaded into their
own mouth.
When they’d finally finished shooting off
they fell back against the pillows propped up against their bedhead,
gasping, a trail of cum stringing between the end of their cock and
their stretched lips. Their cock started to soften and droop between
their thick thighs, laying across the huge mound of their oversized
balls. Every visible inch of their lush body, their pendulous boobs,
their plush midriff, their massive hips, bore a glistening, slimy
coating of cum or milk or both. They looked around at the carnage,
panting and biting their lip lightly.
“And that is a normal night, for me. My life gets weird and messy – and I hope you can share it with me.”
They
blew a kiss at the camera before leaning forward with a light groan to
switch off the stream. Mixed in with the afterglow was a tremendous
sense of both relief and satisfaction – not sexual satisfaction, but
something much deeper. They smiled. Maybe this was going to work out
after all.
Damn that was amazing.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteAgreed, twice over. The struggle to live even a semi-normal life as the product of our perverted fantasies...I love it!
ReplyDeleteIt's a hard life when your body seems custom-designed for the pleasure of a bunch of horny perverts.
DeleteAs a Non-Binary person (who has the same fetishes you write about), I can't thank you enough for this story!
ReplyDeleteYou're most welcome!
Delete