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.
ReplyDeleteAgreed, 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!
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