Sexy Rose

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Sexy Rose

Chapter 2- Miss Spencer

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I lingered in my apartment for a few days, after Emily was taken away. I wasn't in mourning or anything stupid like that, I was just reminiscing; I had heard the first real sexual release of a futa would be intense, but that didn't come anywhere close to describing it. Masturbating couldn't hold a candle to relentlessly pounding another girl, fucking her for hours and shooting load after load of hot semen deep into her tight, hot, wet pussy. One would more than do the job, of course, but why stop there? Better to make sure of the job, over and over and over...

God, just thinking about it made me so damn hard, I almost clogged the shower drain a hundred times over. Naturally it never did any good; my cock had tasted virgin ass and virgin pussy, and now nothing else would ever satisfy it again. Not that I minded; not that it could ever really be satisfied anyway.



In the end I took some pills to counter the hormones and force my cock to shrink back into a clit; then I could go back to school, and look for my next target. I already knew who it would be: Miss Spencer, the French teacher from Canada. She also spoke Italian, and technically was Mrs Spencer, but we all called her Miss Spencer because it was pretty clear she hated her husband. She wanted children, and badly, but he was impotent or something; it had been an arranged marriage, and she couldn't get out of it no matter what she did.



I knew all this because we were friends; I spoke French and Italian flawlessly, and we were both beautiful women. It seemed natural that we should bond platonically over coffee and class work; I'd stay over after school and help her grade papers, and we'd talk for hours about everything and nothing.



Now I was going to offer her what she truly wanted; pregnancy, and freedom from her husband.



The school had largely recovered from my one day of indiscretion. Many of the girls were more open about themselves now, and some of the teachers weren't quite so strait-laced, but on the whole it was back to normal. I had no intention of disrupting that again, even if it was normal for inexperienced dickgirls like me. Of course, intention didn't really count for much against hormones and a huge, painfully hard cock, but still, I had to try or I was no better than a serial rapist.



Anyway. I passed the day like I always had, catching up on my homework and missed assignments, chatting with everyone else; despite myself I was rather popular with the girls, no doubt due to some subtle pheromones that drew females to me. After classes were over I went to Miss Spencer's office; she was doing paperwork, and when I came in she smiled and put it aside. "Rose," she said warmly, getting up and wrapping me in a hug, "I've missed you! Were you sick or something?"



"No ma'am," I replied, hugging her back. "Emily and I decided to take a vacation after that weird day here; she got sick, though, but she should be fine soon." We sat down, and for a while it was just like the old days; Miss Spencer and her favorite student, chatting away like old friends.



Then she sighed, and looked sad. "Henry's gone again," she said morosely. Henry was her husband, and we both loathed him. "Once again I have no idea how long he'll be gone; probably off chasing whores." Now her voice was thick with bitterness, and self-doubt; what kind of man would leave her to go after call girls?



"Andrea, don't think like that," I said, using her first name. "Listen, I... I have something to show you, alright? It's a secret, an important secret, and you have to promise not to say anything, ok?" Confused, she only nodded; I got up and made sure the door was locked and the construction paper over the window still in place, then went around pulling the shades down and locking the windows; when she couldn't see, I popped one of my pills, and felt myself stirring inside.



"Rose?" Miss Spencer asked as I approached her again. "What are you...?"



"I told you, ma'am," I replied, "it's a secret." She was seated in her chair; I stood in front of her, smiled sultrily and started a slow strip tease. I swayed back and forth, my eyes on hers, my hands toying with my breasts; I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, watching Miss Spencer as her eyes went wide and her breathing became erratic.



"Rose, this... this is wrong, I'm your..." she stammered, in weak protest.



"Hush, Miss Spencer," I said throatily, slowly raising my shirt up while still gyrating erotically. "You deserve this; we both deserve this." My shirt was off, revealing the filmy red bra I'd worn that day; again I toyed with my breasts, squishing them together and making them jiggle. Miss Spencer was frozen to her chair, now clearly aroused; I could see her nipples poking through the blouse she wore, and her legs were shifting uncomfortably while her hands desperately gripped the arms of her chair. My smile widened; she was in my power now.



Languidly I slipped the bra out, and my breasts flopped gently as I let the thing flutter to the ground; they were firm and perky, and I bent down so I could lick the nipples. Then I slid my hands down my toned stomach and played with the hem of my skirt, pulling it down and back up, flashing a bit of my skimpy red panties each time. Miss Spencer was shivering now, one hand twitching in her lap; the other still gripped the arm of her chair, though I could tell it wanted to wander up to her bosom.



The school skirts had zippers, concealed within a fold; now I pulled it down and cast the garment aside, revealing in full my red panties. They were slightly damp, but my cock was behaving; I had much better control over myself now, no doubt due to some of the drugs I'd been left with that day. I rubbed my cunt through the fabric, panting and moaning softly, my head tilted back so I was eyeing Miss Spencer down my nose. "You like it, ma'am?" I asked, my voice husky.



"I... no! Rose, put your clothes back on...!" Miss Spencer demanded, without conviction. I only smirked and tugged on the hem of my panties, pulling them down a little at a time only to flip them back up before I revealed anything good. I had her in the palm of my hand now, and it was great.



"You really want me to put my clothes back on...?" I asked, tugging my panties down farther than I had yet. "You really want me to...?" Numbly she shook her head no, obviously unaware of doing it. "What, ma'am? I couldn't hear you, say that again?"



Her face was red before; now it went crimson. "I... I don't-"



"Say it."



"No!" she hissed. "Please don't put your clothes back on!"



"Good girl," I allowed, finally pulling my panties down and revealing my pink, shaven pussy. One leg, then another, and I let them drop; I left the stockings and heels on, liking the image it presented. I slid forward and into her lap, wrapping my arms around her neck and kissing her soundly; she responded in kind, our breasts pressing against each other nicely. We broke apart, panting for breath; I could see the need in her eyes, no doubt a mirror of mine. "I've always wanted you, Miss Spencer," I whispered softly, lovingly, "just like this..."



"Rose..." Miss Spencer replied, her eyes wide. "I..."



"Don't say anything," I said. "I'm not done yet." I sat up, my knees on either side of her, reached down and toyed with my clit for a few seconds. "Watch, Miss Spencer," I commanded, my eyes rolling back in my head.



I rarely watched myself transform; it was enough to feel it, to feel my sensitive, feminine little clitoris erupting into a huge, hard, veiny, masculine cock. The first few times it happened I would come, even, before it was fully hard; but those days were long behind me even then. Judging from the look on Miss Spencer's face, though, it was every bit as shocking now as it was then.



"I'm a dickgirl, Miss Spencer," I explained breathlessly. "Look at it. Twelve inches of hot cock, bigger and more virile than any man; I can come over and over, never get tired, never run out; my sperm are thousands of time more aggressive and virile than male stuff, I can get you pregnant with just one time, just a little bit of my semen." By then I was fully erect, my cock throbbing proudly between the two of us; I stroked it idly with one hand as I explained it to her. "But you won't want to stop," I said, leaning in so my mouth was against her ear. "I'll shoot off a thousand times before you're satisfied, make you orgasm for an hour straight; I'll flood your pussy with my seed until it's overflowing and still it won't stop. I'll fuck your ass and your mouth and those huge juicy tits of yours, and we'll be here until morning if we don't go back to your place." I leaned in further and poked my tongue in her ear, sliding it around inside; beneath me, I felt her shiver, but she didn't move her hands.



"I'll make you my bitch, Miss Spencer," I went on, acting on some dim impulse; I was rewarded by her shocked gasp, and the swiftly averted glance of hope and lust (but not swiftly enough). "You'll be nothing but my cumdumpster, you'll be a worthless fucking slut and you'll bear my dickgirl babies. You're going to have triplets, Miss Spencer, all of them beautiful blond dickgirls just like me. Just like your mistress." I heard her moan thickly, and with a grin got to my feet; I seized her hair and yanked her to her knees in front of me, my cock in her face.



"Open up, Miss Spencer," I ordered, my voice rough and commanding now; she complied eagerly, and I shoved my cock down her face. "I'm gonna make you choke, you worthless whore!" I cried out as I facefucked my teacher, not giving her even a moment to adjust. "Swallow it all! Swallow every drop of my hot white cum until you choke! You fucking slut!" I slapped her cheek, hard, and she moaned wantonly, choking on my cock as I slammed in and out of her mouth; I felt her tongue, frantically trying to explore every inch of me she could reach. I felt the vibrations of her slutty moaning, I felt her hand gripping the base of my monster cock; I knew she was kneading her breasts, distending her clothes, and that she didn't care.



The juices from my pussy ran over, coating her hand and my cock. "Clean it off!" I cried, yanking away from her and forcing her into the underside of my cock. "You made that mess, clean up after yourself!" Gasping for air she frantically did just that, licking my cock all over and lapping up my pussy juices as if it were ambrosia or some fucking thing. Of course she started licking my pussy too, not like she had any choice with my hands pinning her between my legs there; I had never been licked out that way, and felt orgasm coming on from both my parts.



Just before my cock erupted with its huge load of cum I yanked her away from my pussy and shoved my cock down her throat, forcing her down so she was staring straight up into me as I facefucked her again; with a sharp cry I forced myself all the way in, violating her completely as I ejaculated straight down her throat. I felt her throat muscles working frantically to handle it all, and pulled out just before she could black out from lack of air.



"Not good enough!" I cried, throwing her to the floor; she landed against the wall, one hand at her neck, choking and gasping for air as she fought to swallow the last of the cum in her mouth and throat. A few more thick strands flew out of my cock and landed in her hair, on her face, on her blouse; I watched as she smeared it in, gasping and moaning as she licked her fingers clean.



She looked up at me, her glance full of adoration and wanton lust. "What next, mistress?" she panted, eyeing my cock hungrily. "I am yours to command, all yours!"



"Take your clothes off, bitch," I ordered sharply, one hand playing with my pussy and the other with my hard, twitching cock. "You're a fucking mess!" She complied eagerly, almost tearing them as she hurried to get out of the ruined blouse and skirt; I caught the gleam of gold at her hand and neck, and ordered her to leave it on. She left her heels and stocking on as well, and her hair was still in a messy bun; she had a little patch of hair above her cunt, and I could see it glistening. Her breasts, much larger than mine and barely starting to sag from their own weight, heaved as she panted and moaned.



"On the desk!" I ordered, sweeping it clean with one contemptuous swing of my arm. She was too slow, and I grabbed her arm and flung her down on her back; I was on top of her quickly, straddling her chest, my cock between her enormous tits. "Spit on it!" I said harshly, slapping one breast and then another; she cried out in pain and lust, and covered my cock in her saliva as best she could. When it was enough I pinned her hands over her head and started tit-fucking her, my eyes glaring angrily down at hers; her face and hair were still slimy with my seed, and it was the most erotic sight I'd ever seen. She had her mouth open and her tongue out, and the head of my cock slipped into her mouth every time I pounded upward.



I quickly came again, grunting loudly and arching my back, my cock flying upward and spraying my seed all over Miss Spencer and her desk, some of it flying so hard and high it landed on me as well. Both our hands jacked it furiously, wanting the eruption to last as long as it could; I felt her other hand between us, furiously plying her pussy for all she was worth.



When it was over, she was almost unrecognizable beneath the massive strands of my sticky cum; I leaned down and kissed her hard and roughly, smearing the white stuff with my hand as I did so. Our breasts pushed together again, causing more tense friction between the two of us, my cock caught between them. "On your knees, you filthy bitch," I said, moving so she could do so. I could tell she expected me to plunge my cock into her pussy right then and there, but I wanted to hear her beg some more.



"I want to hear you scream, you skank," I growled, moving behind her and putting my hands on her ass. I leaned down and ran my tongue up her pussy, rewarded with the quavery sound of her moaning and panting. I hadn't done this very often, but like everything else related to sex I had an immense natural talent; soon she was writing with every flick of my tongue, begging for me to let her orgasm, practically crying from her need. "You're a pathetic excuse for a human being," I snarled. "You don't deserve to come!" This was punctuated with my tongue lightly grazing her clit; she sobbed loudly and cried out. "Beg for it, bitch! Beg for an orgasm! Scream it out!"



"Please!" she screamed, thrusting back against me. "Please let me cum, mistress! I can't stand it!" I grinned and gave her what she wanted, sliding my tongue as deep as it would go and roughly fingering her clit; she screamed again as she came, hard, and I lapped up all her pussy juices as it spurted out. I slid my fingers in to make sure she was loose enough for my cock; she was, and with a growl I got up on the desk behind her.



"Here I come, Miss Spencer," I growled, slapping my cock against her ass. I slid back and poked the head against her wet cunt, and then with a grunt I shoved myself as far in as I could go; she howled from the pain, sobbing into her arm, but I showed no mercy as I pulled out and slammed into her again, and again, and again. "You worthless whore!" I cried as I fucked her pussy as hard as I could, knowing I had lost control and powerless to do anything about it. "You fucking cumdumpster!"



I felt the cum boiling up in me, burning hotly. "Here it comes, slut!" I cried, grabbing her hair and yanking her up; I couldn't help but bend down myself as my cock exploded deep inside her. My whole body burned as I came, the fire between my legs spreading all throughout me, and our screams filled the room in harmony; I felt her come as well, her pussy clamping down almost painfully on my cock, trapping all that burning cum inside. It still overflowed almost instantly though, and I felt myself coming again before I was through the first time; the sensation of two burning loads of sperm erupting out of me was almost too much to handle, and I think I blanked out for a second or so there.



When I had my senses back I was collapsed on top of Miss Spencer, who had herself passed out; the desk beneath us was awash with warm, sticky cum, and I couldn't help but imagine the countless billions of dickgirl sperm flailing madly around in the stuff, and the countless billions more that were even now giving her the beautiful baby girls she had always wanted. My stockings were ruined, of course, but that didn't matter so much. I looked down at my cock, which was buried to the hilt in Miss Spencer's cunt; no doubt I had hurt her, my cock too big for her pussy to handle like this, but my people would be able to fix her up. They had done so before with Emily, no doubt, and would do so in the future with all our lovers.



Miss Spencer stirred and looked up at me over her shoulder, her glance tired but still lustful. "You're still hard," she whispered in disbelief, wriggling against me; the motion set off little flares of lust in me, and I hissed between my teeth. "After all that, you're still hard. Amazing..." Painfully she pulled herself up, a thick squelching noise coming when my cock left her swollen pussy; a flood of cum erupted out of the opening left behind, and I shivered at the sight of it. My cum, my trillions of potential new dickgirls; I felt pride aching in my chest at the thought, and smiled lovingly.



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We cleaned ourselves up, leaving the room as it was, and went to her place in my car. She was stiff and rather sore, but I could tell she wouldn't have had it any other way; she kept looking sideways at me, her glance lustful and loving, and I looked back at her as well.



Her house was practically a mansion; she came from an old family, she said, with lots of money from places she didn't have to think about. Teaching was something she did because she enjoyed it, enjoyed passing on the skills of life to the next generations; now she was nothing but a dickgirl whore, and she seemed inordinately pleased at the idea even as she hobbled up the front steps.



Just inside the door was a package, brown cardboard, with no address and no stamps; just a few geometric red lines on a black sticker. I knew what it was instantly, and told Miss Spencer to sit down as I opened it up; sure enough, inside was a fresh supply of drugs, for both of us this time. Silently I thanked my people as I uncapped a bottle of green pills, shook one out and told Miss Spencer to swallow it; it would help her feel better, I said by way of explanation. She swallowed it without question, frowning at the tingling sensation it wrought as it instantly began working its stuff.



Also in the box were some syringes, and a few vials of thin white fluid; I'd never seen these before, and the labels were unfamiliar, but they came with instructions. Barely had I read them before I knew what the drugs were meant for, but the question in my head was what they were here for. No doubt I would find out soon. In the meantime Miss Spencer was feeling a lot better, and professed amazement at that fact; I explained that I wasn't alone, of course, and my people were extremely good with drugs and hormones and shit like that. The green pill had in fact repaired her pussy of the damage I had caused, and generally improved things throughout her body; she'd be feeling horny again rather soon, if my suspicions were correct.



Sure enough, within half an hour we were at it again like teenagers, all over the house. When we got to the bedroom I ruthlessly drilled her ass, listening to her screaming in pain and then lust beneath me; the thought of clogging up her insides with my cum was strong, and I came several times in a row, each one seeming stronger than the last. Any normal woman her age would have been killed, but the drugs had done such a good job she was bouncing back into me, begging me to fuck her ass harder and faster. But I had to go back to her pussy eventually, of course.



Now I'm sure you're wondering: "Why's this Spencer woman having so much trouble when Emily wasn't?" Because Emily was young and Miss Spencer wasn't? Because maybe I didn't mention Emily's pain since it wasn't important? Why are you even thinking so hard about this stuff anyway?



The fact is, the younger they are the easier they respond to the pheromones, and their bodies are more resilient as well. Emily had been drowning in dickgirl scent all day before I kidnapped her; she was so ready she about exploded the first time I came inside her. Miss Spencer had been taken by surprise, as it were, and as you noticed I was deliberately rough with her; the drugs from my people solved that, of course, don't ask me how because I never asked and I have no intention of asking either. Some things are better left unheard, after all.



Anyway. I fucked Miss Spencer's wet pussy for hours, ruining the bed and the sheets and all that; it was just like last time, my foot-long cock was on fire and hot cunt was the only way to put it out, except somewhere inside was a broken gas line so the fire just burnt hotter and hotter every time I shot off another huge load of sticky cum inside Miss Spencer. Sometimes I'd go to her ass again, or her tits, or her mouth and throat; we were both drenched in my semen, but we didn't care, we were on fire after all.



Then, just to ruin the mood, the phone rang.



It was one of those annoying rings that really got into a girl's skull and wouldn't leave; there was no way we could keep on while it was doing that. Reluctantly, Miss Spencer stretched out and picked up the handset, putting it to her head with a grimace. "Um, hi?" she mumbled, clearly put out by the interruption. Her face rapidly took on a shocked look of disbelief, and she stammered her reply. "Wh-what? Tomorrow, really?" Desperately she feigned some sort of joy. "Um, that's g-great! Yeah, honey, wonderful!" I knew right then who it was; she wouldn't be calling anyone else "honey" with my hot dick buried in her cunt.



She hung up and looked up at me from on her back. "That was H- my hu- him," she managed, unable to refer to the man any other way. "He's coming home early."



"Henry," I said harshly, gripping her arms. Miss Spencer looked frightened for a few seconds, but then a devious look came over her face; she drew me down and whispered her plan into my ear. With every word my mood came back; when she was done, all I could do was kiss her hard and start pounding into her again. She moaned with lust and humped back into me, thrust for thrust.



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For the plan to work we had to clean up, at least around the foyer and entrance; this was accomplished with a bit of chemical help, and then we were ready. Waiting was the hard part; we had to be ready, we couldn't be caught off guard doing anything strange. The sound of his car pulling up was like a shot going off; I sprang to my spot behind the front door and she stood before it, ready to greet him. He walked up the outer steps, reached for door and pushed inside: "Hi, honey," he started to say, no doubt surprised by Miss Spencer standing just right there; he didn't get to finish before I lashed out, hitting him over the head with a sock full of coins, and he fell to the floor in a dead faint.



When he woke up he was naked, securely tied to a stout wooden chair, at the foot of their bed. Miss Spencer was wantonly sucking me off, theatrically overdoing it just for his benefit. "Huh...?" he muttered, still bleary, clearly not comprehending what was before him. In his position I doubt I would have, either; seeing your wife giving a blowjob to a teenage girl with a cock that wouldn't be out of place on a Clydesdale was bound to be disconcerting, at the least. "H-Hey! What's-!"



"Shut your fucking mouth, asshole," I said harshly, grabbing Miss Spencer by the hair and forcing her to go deeper on me. "You don't deserve Miss Spencer; I've taken her from you, taken her for myself in every way." She moaned louder and started fingering her cunt, clearly in agreement with my words.



Flexing powerfully I flipped both of us over, her on top, facing him; she leaned back and humped my cock for all she was worth, while I mauled her huge tits with both hands. "You were never good enough, Henry," I said harshly, looking at that pathetic man over Miss Spencer's heaving thighs. "Never! All she ever wanted was a good marriage, a man who gave her what she craved! She wanted babies, Henry! And you weren't up to the task!" Roughly I pinched her nipples and twisted them; she cried out and covered my hands in hers, urging me to twist them harder, as she helplessly bounced up and down on my cock at an ever-increasing rate.



"You're a failure, Henry!" I shouted over Miss Spencer's growing cries of lust, her strident and needy begging for me to fuck her deeper, harder, more. I did just that, thrusting up with my hips to match her furious humping, driving my cock harder and deeper into her wet cunt. "You're the worst husband in the world! And you've lost Miss Spencer forever!" As if to emphasize the words I felt myself about to orgasm; I seized her hips and arched my back, holding her with my cock buried to the hilt as huge gouts of hot white cum erupted out, overflowing her pussy instantly. Semen ran over, spurting out around my twitching dick in thick strands, seemingly for hours.



When it stopped I pushed her off of me and rolled over; more cum boiled out of Miss Spencer, without my cock to plug her up. "You are impotent, Henry," I said accusingly, staring straight into his shocked brown eyes. "I am not. Look at all this!" I gestured at the flood of cum on the bed, at the tide still overflowing out of Miss Spencer's pussy. "You can never match this; I create more every time I come! Every time!" My cock was still hard, possibly even harder; I manhandled Miss Spencer beneath me and slammed my cock into her again, displacing even more cum as I fucked straight down into her. She was on her shoulders, her back to Henry, and I faced him directly, bent over to get as much of my length into Miss Spencer's depths as I could.



I didn't bother with words, I just glared at him as he dissolved into pitiful sobs, begging me to stop defiling his wife, his wife; I scoffed and fucked her all the harder, proclaiming my total domination over her with every thrust of my hips. Again I felt cum boiling up out of my body; again I buried myself all the way in her as another endless tide of semen filled her needy cunt over and over again. The thought of the humiliated, emasculated Henry gaping on, unable to look away, somehow made it all the sweeter for Miss Spencer if I were to judge by how high she screamed, how tightly her pussy clamped down on my throbbing cock; I felt her come at least three times in a row before my cock stopped, and I pulled out again.



I let her flop down straight and catch her breath, and I got up from the bed. "She is no longer your wife, Henry," I said scathingly, standing in front of him, my cock still proudly erect and drenched in my fluids and hers. "She is all mine. She's just a bitch, a whore, a hungry slut I get to fuck over and over and over again; she's my cumdumpster, just a dominated bitch good for nothing but choking on my hot sticky cum for the rest of her days." I reached down and slapped him, hard. "What did you ever give her?!" I shouted in his face. "Misery and rejection! You tied her down, held her back! Now she's free of you forever!" I slapped him across the other cheek, harder than before, and went back to Miss Spencer.



I needn't go into details here; suffice it to say that I jammed my dick down every hole Miss Spencer had, her pussy, her ass, her mouth and her breasts. Over and over again I came, drowning her inside and out in my seed, while the hated Henry could do nothing but watch and sob and futilely beg. We kissed longingly, my tongue exploring every inch of her mouth, and then I filled that mouth with more of my cock and my cum. At some point he fainted dead away; at some other point Miss Spencer and I fell asleep, entangled in each other so tightly it seemed we would never separate.



I woke up in my apartment, groggy and disoriented and physically a normal girl again; no Henry, no Miss Spencer, no ruined four-poster king-sized bed. No doubt Henry had been drugged into thinking it had all been a bad dream; the house would be perfectly clean, restored to its pre-Rose state, not a trace of dickgirl cum anywhere. No trace of Miss Spencer, either, save perhaps a letter from a very powerful organization saying their marriage had been annulled and he was not to speak of what he had seen or to try and find her again or else; she had been taken away, thoroughly knocked up and carrying beautiful dickgirl triplets, never to see Henry or hopefully any man ever again.