And Other Duties As Required Ch. 05-07

I'd seen that YouTube video. It was obscene. I held back a frown. Looking into the genuine expression in this man's eyes, I could imagine that maybe, before Madeline had perverted it, it had once been something sweet.

I gave the guy a quick look over. I had been expecting Madeline to fill the crowd with rows of fat, ugly, awkward men, but this guy was firmly in the average category. Hell, if you could look past his haircut, he was actually kind of cute. I could sort of see him sweeping me off my feet, taking me back to his place and pounding my tight snatch with his- I blushed and looked away.

These stupid androphilic desires had been growing worse all week. Was that Madeline's game? Make me hornier and hornier until I burst and ravished the first guy I saw? Hell, at this rate she didn't have very far to go. I turned back to him. Just shake his hand and say thank you. Don't make this weird.

"Thank you!" I held out my hand. "Your support means so much to me."

He whipped out his dick.

I froze, my face red.

My eyes swiveled to look up at the security guard to my left. He had a stopwatch in hand to time the handshake and shoo people along when their time was up. What was he doing? How did he not see this?

The fan stood there awkwardly, expectantly.

"Come on, Miki," urged Min from the chair further down, "Get on your knees and start sucking! Just like we've been practicing all week. He can't move on until he's cum!"

I looked at the huge line, an endless line of hard-ons scarcely contained by their pants

I stared down at the pulsing member before me. I gulped.

There it was. Madeline's game. So much for this being simple.

My head frantically swiveled. I turned to look at the back of the store. The path to the storerooms was still open. The back door we had arrived through would be clear and free. I could run. I could run and never look back.

Over by the stanchion, the manager laughed. A sadistic laugh. A familiar laugh. Madeline's cruel smile familiar even on those lips. Of course. I don't know why I thought she would be subtle.

It was the photoshoot all over again. I wasn't trapped, but what choice did I have? If I resisted, if I rebelled, she'd win. I had come so close. I'd put up with an entire week of being sexy idol Miki. No. My fists clenched. I couldn't give up now. No matter how perverse, no matter how disgusting.

My heart pounded. Satisfy the fans. That's what she'd said. It wasn't going to be easy, but dammit, I could beat her yet.

I pushed past the table and fell to my knees. No more wasted time.

My plump lips popped open, tongue exploring tantalizingly forward as I leaned towards the thick shaft of his cock. I couldn't believe I was about to do this. He was straining, twitching, so eager, so hungry. Why wouldn't he be? I was his idol. How many times had he fantasized about this? His musky smell set something alight in the back of my brain. My mouth watered. God help me, my body wanted this just as much as he did.

I gave the tip an experimental lick, reliving what felt like a thousand wet dreams and fantasies. My body needed this. My body was made for this. Satisfy him? You couldn't have asked for someone better.

My tongue met his head. My eyes went wide as my heart pounded. Sweaty skin had never tasted so delicious, so hot. No, it wasn't the flavour, it was the context. The flavour was just a trigger for the full body flood of endorphic arousal. It was a little bit hairy, a little bit musky, a little bit bitter but none of that mattered - I wanted more.

I pulled back to take another look at it, shocked by its power, its virility. It was like finding out I'd spent my whole life without ever tasting chocolate.

Though I couldn't see her from my vantage point, I could hear Madeline's laugh.

I had thought she'd want me to hate it. I thought she'd want me to suffer, disgusted. I never dreamed she'd make me love it. God, I didn't know which was worse.

I was drooling like a desperate dog as this hot slab of throbbing fuckmeat swayed hypnotically in front of me. My traitorous flesh quivered with need. It had tasted blood and it wanted more.

I dove back onto it with reckless abandon. I'd never sucked a cock before, but I had dreamed, and I knew what made men feel good. Kissing and licking turned to sucking and slurping and slobbering. There was a gasp of amazement as I pulled off. From this vantage I don't know if it was him reacting to my ministrations, or the crowd impressed with my theatrics.

Some lingering vestige of my masculine heterosexuality raged inside me. I was about to suck some stranger's dick in front of a crowd of frothing fans. I couldn't do this. I had to stop before I ended up the leading lady in a blowbang bukkake buffet while - fuck - while hundreds of fans looked on, leering, staring, condemning me for the slut I was. Oh god, just thinking about it got me so fucking hot. Knowing that they were watching, that they were getting off to the sight of me... it all just drove me even higher.

I pulled back and took another look at the cock in my hands. It was so much larger than mine had been. I looked out at the tented pants waiting for their turn. They all were. Somehow my blush grew deeper. Was this her doing too? Or was this an unfortunate truth I had never realized? Its size was nowhere near what I had dealt with at that photoshoot, but the flesh was silky and spongy and it glowed with a hot human heat. This was man in flesh and blood. This was the real thing.

Fuck, I wanted more.

I ran my tongue along the underside of his swollen head. It was so plump and so hard. I flicked at the sensitive rim, one hand twisting its way around his shaft while my lips clamped down tight around it, my tongue, my head and my sucking lips rotating in the opposite directions. My loud slurping told all the world just how soft and wet and ready my mouth was, even as it was but a pale reflection of the moist pliance of my other, lower lips.

He shuddered and he tensed and I swallowed down my creamy reward, a treat for a job well done. I whimpered at the sudden taste of it, the aroma and flavor so intoxicating. I swallowed it down before I even realized what was happening, though the thick cream coating my throat tantalized me with the aftertaste. This - fuck - this had an actual flavor. I was already trembling for more.

I thanked him - truly, genuinely - as he pulled away. I was almost disappointed with how soon he had cum. Not that I wasn't eager to move the line forward, but it felt like we had only just begun.

It dimly occurred to me that the thought of not getting to suck all of these wonderful cocks terrified me far more than the notion that I might have to.

My fans weren't about to let me go wanting. Another cock replaced his, and then another and another. An endless parade of tall, eager, and most importantly, big-dicked men. Some were awkward, some were gentle, some - the best of them - were not.

I squealed in delight as one grabbed my hair and took control, fucking my face for all it was worth. I had to struggle to breathe, but that was no excuse to stop my ministrations. My tongue swirled and my lips puckered as this heavenly saliva-slick rod pulled out of my tight, eager throat.

I glanced back at the long line of other fans before as my head was slammed forward back onto his cock. They weren't attractive perse, but I couldn't deny the arousal coursing through my blood. I wondered how much cum they had churning in their balls, ready to unload into me. How many inches of cock could I take before they finally left me a twitching cum-drenched mess on the floor, fucked so senseless that I finally found satisfaction? I whimpered at the thought even as I gulped for breath. Oh my god, what was I becoming?

This wasn't sensual or romantic. It was urgent, frenzied, furious. A part of me tried to hold on, to tell myself that I just wanted to keep the line moving, but with each urgent thrust that excuse became flimsier and flimsier.

I didn't choke as this man's balls slapped around my tongue. Why didn't I choke? I could feel it pressing into the depth of me, plumbing the well of my throat, and yet all I did was swallow around it, pulling it in deeper, massaging it with my throat muscles as I gulped down his turgid masculinity. I shuddered in pleasure, my other hand - free now that I had bottomed out around this cock - played across the hot bud of my desire like a guitar string. I didn't care why I wasn't choking, all that mattered was that his cock could jackhammer freely against the pleasure centers of my brain.

My slick hand pulled aside the thin slip of my thong. My legs were spread wide for all to see. I was dizzy now with desire, neither seeing nor thinking straight - doing things I'd never have thought possible or hot, all to feed this insatiable flame of horny passion growing within me. I didn't care that people were watching. I wanted them to watch. I wiped the cum-slobber from my chin and used it for lube. Fingers plunged home, jostling in the live socket of my cunt, the electric flood of my arousal burbling out unrestrained around my hand and running down my leg.

He groaned. There was a pump, a surge, and then he came. Oh god, did he ever cum. This one was one of the good ones - river after river of hot jizz spraying down my needy throat. My mewling contentment turned however to disappointment as he pulled out, as his cum stopped.

He staggered away, cum dripping down my lips. I was still in shock. I blinked and remembered where I was, who I was, what I was supposed to be. I swallowed. I smiled. I glanced reverently up at the next person in line. His hard dick was already out and ready for me.

I looked over at the other girls. Enormous meaty poles hung beneath their skirts, thick throbbing dicks poking their way out of the two girls' panties. The next fan in Min's line stepped up and fell to his knees, his mouth engulfing her thick dick, his eager lips slobbering reverently over her throbbing head. Further down, Meiling moaned theatrically as she slammed her hips into the ass of another fan, no lube, no warmup, all in one shot. The middle-aged man cried out in stunned rapture as she bent him over the table and aggressively throttled his perky butt.

"What?" I gawked "Why are you...?" I froze in confusion, my brain seemingly unable to process anything besides how incredibly juicy those two cocks looked. Then I realized the roughness with which they were treating their lovers. It was a cathartic angry pounding. Maybe Madeline had just as much beef to take out on her fans as she did on me. Was this her way of paying them back for all the times they'd screwed her over?

It did little to assuage my indignation.

"Why am I giving and you're receiving?" I whined. As though I would even want it any other way.

The two didn't even stop thrusting as they exchanged a look and then laughed.

"Because you're the junior member." Meiling clarified.

"Duh." added Min.

I groaned. Half in lust, half in annoyance. This was another stupid distraction. I didn't have time to dwell on this.

I tried to shake off this strange mix of emotions. I was outraged and protective and horny and jealous, all mixed together into one sour note. It was the jealousy that keened the loudest. I should be jealous of these girls for having dicks - angry that I didn't. That's what Madeline wanted, wasn't it? Well, the joke was on her, I was more jealous of that fan on his knees, getting to choke on that monster cock of Min's as she twitched and screamed out her enjoyment.

Shit, why wasn't I sucking a dick?

I turned to my next fan and winked up at him. A week's worth of etiquette training spilled out onto the floor as I stopped trying to be a girlish idol and accepted my role as a wanton cum-hungry whore. It was a game of wild improvisation, but just like the dancing, it seemed to come so naturally.

It wasn't long though before the next person in line was a woman. Without a cock, I had to struggle to get my brain to focus on her. She was pretty, but hardly stunning. Her hair was a little messy and she wasn't wearing any makeup. I don't know why I was surprised by her presence. The majority of people here today were men, sure, but we had lots of female fans.

I raised an eyebrow as she unzipped her pants. I don't know what I was expecting, but the sight of her tightly-shaved pussy just left me disappointed. Not that I didn't love women, not that they weren't hot, but seeing that void between her legs, nothing for my mouth to latch on to, nothing to pound me senseless with and pour cum down my throat? I felt so cheated.

And yet, she was a fan. I couldn't let her go away unsatisfied.

I pressed my face to her pussy and inhaled deeply, the smell of her femininity such a stark contrast to all of this masculine musk. I kissed at her vulva with my cum-stained lips, sucking playfully at her already engorged clitoris. This, at least, was something I was good at, something I had practiced. After a week with those two I knew just how to make a girl scream. And yet... my heart just wasn't in it. I had to smile and fake my enjoyment. I couldn't stop thinking about cock.

If she noticed my disinterest, she was polite enough not to mention it, and soon enough she was crying out in climax, her thighs clamping down around my head as her body squirmed and spasmed.

I don't know if Madeline had read my mind or what, but the next girl gave me nothing to complain about.

Before I knew it, I had another cock in my mouth, and then another, and another. The line was moving.

"Thank you all so much!" I moaned as I pulled off of one with a gasp, "for all your support!"

I looked at the line, and then the clock. Despite my skill, this was taking too long. Even working as fast as I could, it was taking up to five minutes to work my way through each cock. How the hell was I supposed to get through a line like this at that pace? I needed to work harder.

I doubled down on my efforts, diving onto dick after dick, moaning in desperation. I pulled out every trick I could think of from a lifetime of masculine masturbation. I tongued the tumescent tip, I cradled their cum-heavy balls, I worked those slobber-stained shafts for all I was worth, but even with all this renewed vigor, I was in trouble.

Sure, a few were cumming good and quick, but all too many were taking their sweet time, slow and steady until my all-too-eager ministrations convinced them to do otherwise.

I was going to lose.

The thought shot through me like a bullet as cum dribbled down my chin and onto my blouse. I was actually going to lose. I was going to be here forever. Stuck like this. Transformed permanently into some perverse sex doll at the whims of Madeline's desires. I'd be spending the rest of my life on my hands and knees fucking an endless tide of tall hungry men.

I shivered in pleasure, in anticipation. Mmm... would it really be so bad? To live like this forever? I sloshed all this wonderful, orgasmically addictive cum around in my mouth. If it meant I could get fucked like this? If I could experience this joy every day? How could anything that felt so good be so wrong?

I screamed out in frustration, an orgasmic wail giving voice to the musical rhythm of my cum-slick hand as it played over my engorged bead and swollen folds. What sane girl wouldn't want this?

Then I caught the sight once more of Madeline, smirking through the crowd, and a shiver of clarity ran through me.

That bitch. This had been her plan all along, hadn't it?

No.

As good as it felt, as much as every inch of me wanted oh-so-badly to just give into this bliss and drift off into heaven with all these hunky, broad-chested, cum-filled men, I couldn't. I couldn't let her win. I'd die before I conceded one inch to that woman.

And that meant I needed to do better. I needed to be better. All week I'd been getting my ass kicked in training, always trying, always failing. I'd endured the worst pain of my life, but I had never given up. If there was one thing I'd learned it's that you had to fight.

I hadn't given up that first day, lying on the floor exhausted, and I wasn't about to now. I had to keep pushing, even when I was at my limits. I had to press on no matter the pain - no matter the pleasure.

Like it or not, I was an idol. It was my job to move these people's hearts.

"Everybody!" I yelled it loud and bright, gulping down the cum that had been building up in my mouth. I tugged at my wet blouse, popping buttons with wild abandon as my jizz-staind tits strained against the tight fabric. I pulled it down just enough that they could see my lacy bra and the turgid struggle of my dark horny nipples. "Please have your dicks out and ready!" I put as much cheer and pep and sunshine in it as I could - a girlish earnestness with a sultry undertone that no man could deny. "I want you all stroking your hard cocks in line while watching me! I want you all good and ready to cum down my slutty throat when it's your turn!"

A cheer went up, zippers went down, cocks rose to the occasion. A wave of horny musk rolled over me, the smell of men, playing at my nose like a steak. Hard, meaty, virile. My mouth watered.

The impatient hands of my eager audience drove diligently over their hard dicks, pumping, throbbing, squeezing. Some were in time to our cutesy songs playing gently over the speakers, while others pushed ahead at their own pace. I was greeted with a chorus of groans and hitched breaths. I sighed wistfully. All of these men, all stroking to me. A tear welled in my eye. It was so touching.

I turned to the next cock in line, licking the jizz away from my lips and resuming my duty. This time though, thins were different. Rather than trying to make this guy feel as good as possible, this time my fans were going to get a show.

I brushed the long hair out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ears to give the crowd a wink as my reaching tongue tantalized at the underside of his cockhead. Though my body cried at the interruption, I pulled my sopping-slick hand away from my ragged juicy cunt and ran it instead along the glaze-dribbled flesh of my hungry tits, hoisting and bouncing and squeezing them for the crowd like the lewd, horny udders they were.

Rather than doubling down on this dick - rather than swallowing as much of this sweet pole as I could, I pulled off, a sloppy pop leaving a copious quantity of dribbling cum-laden saliva back down upon the shaft. It was a metaphor, you see, a dance - an artistic portrayal of just how wet and how sticky I was, how hot and hungry and horny I could be. Then I slowly and deliberately slurped it all up, showing once and for all how much I wanted to get filled.

I even managed to put my singing practice to good use. My carnal moans were loud enough that even the people on the street could hear how insatiably desperate I was for this dick.

The fans ate it up. A little dramatic, sure, but this is what they came here for. The sounds of hundreds of men masturbating intensified. I could hear them grunting, all eyes on me. Now I really had their attention.

The cock in my hand twitched and exploded, coating my face in a fresh splattering of boy-hot cream. I giggled and blew a kiss to the crowd. Even focused on the crowd like I was, he had gotten off faster than any of the others. I guess he, too, had enjoyed the show.

The next fan could barely keep her hands off her cock as she stepped up - hard, red and throbbing. It barely took a lick before she, too, erupted a fat load all over my face and tits. I fell back gasping, rubbing her cum into my boobs, licking my lips as I thanked her.

It was working! I had them so on edge that all I had to do was finish them off. No more foreplay, no more wasted time. At this rate I might still be able to pull this off.