Good Boy

Chapter 1 - Prologue - A Luncheon Absentia

"I just don't see the value," replies Sherice. "There's only really two tiers of trade left in Lairatessa, and the marginal return isn't worth our tax dollars anymore. In my humble, honest opinion."

Sherice was neither humble, nor particularly honest, thought Lilac... but her point was not without value.

But a large bite of lobster had just entered Lilac's mouth from large, black-gloved hands, trimmed in red, and she was attempting to keep pecan-apricot butter from running over her soft double chin, and so it was Marie that got in the retort.

"But what about soft power, what about sunk costs? We can't just abandon the value we've already put in there! And... and just think of how the other powers will see us-"

"Weak. They will see us as weak. Of course, Marie," replies Charlotte softly, chewing around the filet in her mouth without dropping a single crumb on her massive belly, or even losing intonation. "It's ancient beyond reckoning, and to just walk away..." she grimaces in practiced manipulation, and again, Lilac feels some jealousy for Charlotte's poise and training.

Charlotte's Tahk brings a handful of sweet salad to her soft orange-painted lips, arugula pinched with plum and tomato, dripping juice, yet not a bite misses her mouth nor even smudges her makeup.

A very well-trained Tahk as well.

Timble, Lilac's own Tahk, brings up a low glass of champagne strawberry smoothie to Lilac's lips, and she carefully drinks from her male's apparently steady hands, washing down the lobster, before replying cagily.

"We can't only consider appearances. And even if we do... there are other things to consider besides the appearance of power. After all..." she looks at the tall, cowled Tahks around them, "we are not men."

The males wear the hizhukari of married Tahks, black but trimmed in the color of their Lady's house, and covering their faces below their well-tended and -styled hair. The cowl wraps around the crown of their heads, covering faces, ears, and neck, before falling down their strong backs and massive, sculpted chests in loose cloth, finally to cover their large codpieces. Their arms and hands and legs though, are clothed in the standard black, skin-tight and stretchy cotton that facilitates their function as manual servants... and accents their male beauty wonderfully, the great muscles of males that carry full-grown women, in a society and subspecies where most adult women are at least three hundred pounds... if not closer to five.

Lilac can see the outline of the veins of her male's massive bicep and forearm as she finishes her sip, and he returns the glass carefully to the table, unconcerned with anything but his function... and perhaps competition with the other Tahks for most refined, steady, and genteel servant.

But, like all Tahks, and all males, he cares not for words, much less the politics of worlds and corporations and commerce. That is women's work. A man's work is to serve.

The conversation continues, of other old worlds, Sumeria and Talinsgrad and Phobosa, and the interplay of Society and Commerce... intrigues in play and inferred... and circling around topics best left for discussion somewhere more private than a patio luncheon in the city.

Large draperies of green hanging plants, covered with flowers, and water art make for walls of the restaurant. Other ladies, all similarly attended, sit at other tables. All fed by their silent Tahks, as the women discuss business, or art, or science, modern culture or politics or history. It is likely every lady here has at least one PhD, if not several. And much of modern trade runs on discussions, and deals, made in bistros like this one.

But Lilac is young, and has been working very hard... much harder than the ladies present likely know...

And... her Tahk smells amazing today... warm musk beneath the perfume that is his norm in public spaces.

When it is civil and prudent to do so-and after they are all well-stuffed and moved onto more casual topics of conversation-she excuses herself, and her male carefully pulls out her soft, decadent chair, before helping her stand. But she is very full, and a little drunk, and her chubby legs wobble, her soft belly jiggling happily but rather opposed to walking.

She places her hand behind her male's neck-almost a foot above her-in the standard signal, and without a pause, Timble bends down, and lifts her gently into his arms, in the standard front-carry.

The other ladies say their goodbyes... though Charlotte winks inappropriately... and Timble carries Lilac out the door to her air-carriage, already waiting.

He holds her in his lap, massive strong arms wrapped around her... and though she is wet already, he is so warm, and it so comfortable here, that she is surprised when she finds herself waking up when they arrive at her little cottage beneath a local waterfall.

Timble carries her inside, and, "bedroom," she whispers softly.

She can feel his body tremble expectantly, can smell his scent grow stronger... and she smiles to herself.

He sets her on her bed, and stands before her, and she slowly undresses him. He is beautiful, her Tahk. Nearly seven feet tall, and covered in vibrant, veiny muscle. Light brown chest hair from shredded abs to broad, bulging shoulders. His smell is intense and horny now, and it makes her heart beat faster.

She finally removes his cowl to see the face that only she will ever see again. Gorgeous, large blue eyes, diamond intense, and a strong, firm jaw, just lightly stubbled, and she can feel herself pulse with the thought of how it will feel on her.

Last, she unclips the belt from his hips that holds his codpiece... to hide the near-constant erection he gets any time he feeds or carries her.

Between massively-muscled, long hairy thighs... throbs a ten-inch cock, already covered in precum. Need rolls down a head that reaches almost to his navel-and well out, toward her-and his body shudders uncontrollably, his hips already vibrating with arousal.

Lilac runs a finger down his abs, and he quakes before her, watching her... but not moving without her release or command.

She brings fingers against his wetted dick, watching his face tense and tremble, as she covers her hand in him barely touching him.

She then circles him... touches each bulging muscle, wiping his own need like halos over his muscles... and finally she bites his thick, sculpted ass... strong from carrying her own fat ass.

The fat he made. Naughty boy.

She feels herself salivating. She smiles again.

She moves back before him, before his great cock. He will have to wait.

She wipes his own precum across his strong jaw, and over his lips. Pulls gently on his lower lip, and his eyes flutter and roll a moment as he shivers.

She faces away from him toward the mirror behind the bed, and lifts her thick dress over her hips to reveal her soft, naked, furry sex, dripping wet herself, and surrounded by her massive, fat-sagging ass.

Timble's entire body shudders. Sweat breaks out on his strong brow.

"Kiss me," she whispers.

Timble kneels gratefully, precum dripping from his throbbing manhood, and buries his face in her snatch, nose in her ass, as he deftly, expertly, eats her. His lips are soft and clever, and he hums gently, vibrating them... but it is his long thick tongue that shines... that rips her first orgasm from her in less than a minute... before continuing, pressing and flicky and circling... and eventually somehow reaching even her g-spot, as his vibrating lip drives her clit to take over her body entirely...

And she is screaming, whimpering and crying in pleasure...

Timble holds all her weight with his arms, holds her wide fat hips up from falling as her soft chubby legs near-collapse with her release.

But he only continues, continues until she can speak to stop him... and that is three orgasms later.

She is a puddle, when she finally taps his thick, veiny forearm, and he halts.

When she can move again, she pushes him to the bed, and he lies down dutifully, raging erection red and full of life, wet purple tip.

She sits above his abs though, pressing herself over the thick wide hard bridge of him, intercrural, her chubby butt settling over his pulsing tip as she makes out with her male.

Kissing gently, and she leads his hands to the fat rolls he's made in her and he gently massages her entire body as she grinds herself softly against the bridge and base of his throbbing, desperate cock.

She comes again, and again... before her belly rumbles. Timble's eyes glance to the kitchen, needing to do his duty... almost as much as to fill her with cum.

And she smiles, and nods, moves over his strong, veiny muscled core to lie beside him, as he rises immediately to fetch her a snack.

When he returns with her favorite, chocolate-infused dates, covered in crushed graham cracker and honey, she can't help herself any longer.

She guides his hips to her, and takes his vibrating rod in her hands... precum flowing over fingers as she gently squeezes his rod, and then his massive balls, and he moans desperately, the first sound he has made since this morning.

She brings him to her, and guides him inside herself, and he vibrates, pulses and throbs, as he feeds her her snack as he fucks her.

Slowly, he increases in speed as she likes... and she eats a little faster, then faster and faster, as they both like, as he stuffs her gently with food.

Her soft fat belly jiggles invitingly, her chubby hanging-fat arms wobbling as she runs her pudgy hands over his throbbing muscles.

She comes... and feels his great balls tensing, ready to release... but is not quite done yet. He looks to her for permission, but she only opens her mouth again, and he shudders, blushes in pleasure and restraint, moaning as he holds himself back, and continues feeding her, now faster and faster, as she grows more and more turned on.

She holds herself, holds back her final climax, as long as she can, until shaking uncontrollably she finally gets the last of the food insider her, he stuffs the last in her mouth, and she pulls him close, whispering, "come inside me" as she kisses him.

And the explosion seed inside her, filling her, covering his massive thick dick inside her, the pressure and raw throbbing male release drive her into her ultimate, and her eyes roll back in her head as he kisses her expertly and desperately, their tongues wrap each other as he moans loud and uncontrollably in her mouth...

And she comes again... comes so fucking hard... comes, and forgets everything, the pressures of the world, of her job, of her mission, of family and friends, of reality itself. All there is is her and her male, primal and natural, as they were so long ago back home... and he is filling her with seed, with raw masculine love.

She comes and comes, comes for minutes, as he continues vibrating and throbbing and pumping and pulsing inside her, ejaculating wave after wave of whimpering, fattening need inside her.

Her orgasm finally recedes... and he is still coming... his massive male body... unable to move... and she wraps her thighs around his waist and her soft fat arms around his head and kisses him the more.

"Good boy," she whispers.



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Appendix A: Introductions and Exposition

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This is one of the only pieces I've written focused on male submission. If you like it, I'm very glad, but unless what you like is just the existence of power dynamics and not the particular direction, you will probably not enjoy most of the other pieces on my page, many of which feature some level of male gaze and often explicit objectification of women, as well as much more intense feedism aspects.

The following notes are not necessary to enjoy this story, and may contain spoilers:

The tense in which this is written is fucked up. I tried to write in simple past tense, but had been writing for so long in present with that Lena Moreau crap that I switched a number of times. I will have to fix it at some point. Probably. Maybe.

On a more setting-relevant note, I haven't picked an age multiplier for these people, so that's still inconsistent as well. Leaning towards 3x, but then the age gap with her cousin should be about 10 years, not 2.5... And the time it takes for certain elements to occur should then be about 4x the current stated times as well, with tasks to fill the time appropriately and narratively. And, ideally, compellingly, lol.

Anyway, for now ignore the specific stated times, and just go with the narrative vibes, imho. For reference, the MC is in her 70s (physically mid-late 20s) in the prologue and 60 (early 20s) in the first chapter, though their biology is not actually as simple as a multiple of human, aging slower as they age (not viltrumites, don't you dare), so another grain of salt with all of that. As of the first chapter and some other characters of House Meris, Clarity is about 70 (~25), Lily is about 85 (~30), Taria is 165 (~45 - again, nonlinear), Grand-Dame Teesa is 260 (~60), and the Grand-Duchess is about 335 (~70). For now, call it 3x until the age of 100, and then 6x thereafter.

Unsurprisingly, adulthood is not a set age for these people, and even when they are adults, it does not mean their bodies are capable of undergoing estrus. Though sexual maturity occurs around 50, most women can't enter estrus until they are closer to 70, and even that is predicted on being bonded and... made ready... for a number of years beforehand. It is rare for women to have their first child before the age of 80, nor their last after the age of 160.

And, once more, Tahks are present in most scenes, with the hard exception of the House of Women's Choice. Where not specifically described as not being present, they are probably present. Often serving as chair or spoon or some other fixture. They are just only mentioned if they matter to the story-which they mostly don't-or if a woman notices them particularly. But, as the only viewpoint in this entire story is that of the MC, and the only Tahk she regularly takes note of is her own, that is also the only one we regularly take note of.

L'chaim