Caitlyn's Futa Obsession

Senna & Lucian

Amidst the swirling colours of the portal bubble, Caitlyn stood beside Ahri, shuffling her feet. She'd gotten out of hand. Again. It wasn't just a lapse of strength either. She'd let it happen. She'd indulged. She'd loved every moment.

Ahri's silence only made things worse. Her mistress hadn't said more than a couple of words since she retrieved Caitlyn and Nami from the beach alcove. And now, as the bubble whisked them away, she stood between Caitlyn and Nami, arms crossed, jaw set. She looked like Caitlyn's instructor from the academy when he'd discovered recruits breaking the rules. Caitlyn never broke the rules. Maybe, skirted them a little, but never broke them. Not really.

The bubble popped. The basement returned. Dark, dull, and barren. Grey.

The orb that guarded the portal floated over. "Mistress Ahri, Mistress Senna and Master Lucian are ready for their turn."

"Tell them I'm awfully sorry, and that the wait shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

"Yes, Mistress Ahri."

The orb popped. Little glowing droplets splattered the floor.

Ahri clicked her fingers and pointed at the door. "Nami, upstairs. We'll talk later. Caitlyn, come with me."

Nami gave Caitlyn a smile before hurrying off. Her ass bounced as she jogged up the stairs. If Caitlyn's stomach weren't tied into knots, she would've enjoyed the sight. Ahri followed Nami, walking with her hands clasped behind her back. Her hips lost their characteristic swing, and her nine tails were stiff and pointed.

Caitlyn willed herself to follow, despite her body's protest. How dare it complain? It was it's fault they were in such a mess to begin with. Only, it wasn't. She'd done this of her own free will. She'd indulged. She'd allowed her body to take over. She... She... Gods, no, she couldn't think about that. She couldn't.

Once they arrived in the rec room, Ahri turned on her. Her golden eyes pierced Caitlyn. "Why do we have a schedule, Caitlyn?"

Caitlyn bowed her head. "To keep things moving, Mistress?"

"Because these are extremely busy people. They don't have time to wait around for you to finish making out with every single partner. It's a miracle they're all here at the same time, to begin with!"

"Y- Yes, Mistress. Sorry. It won't happen again."

Ahri sighed and kneaded the bridge of her nose. "Fuck, I don't mean to shout. This is all quite stressful, you understand. Surrounded by sex. Unable to take part so that it all runs smoothly. I apologise, dear. It's not your fault."

"No, Mistress. It is. I lost control."

"Nonsense. You're here to fuck. I'd be concerned if you didn't lose control from time to time, to be frank. Especially with a sex drive like yours. Twenty-five rounds, and you're not even tired."

"I'll do better, Mistress. I promise."

Ahri frowned. "As much as I make jokes, dear, this isn't a competition. You've already earned membership. You don't have to go all fifty-two rounds. Keep going until the idea of another cock makes you feel physically ill. That's your body telling you it's had enough."

What her body wanted didn't matter. Whores are meant to be selfless. Caitlyn bit her tongue. It wasn't her place to correct Ahri. "Yes, Mistress."

Ahri patted her arm. "Shall I send in your next partners, or have you had enough?"

"Not even close, Mistress. Please, send them in."

"Good girl."

The swing returned to Ahri's hips. She opened the double doors and ushered in a black woman and man. They both had dark, black dreads. The man wore him in a short ponytail. He had an angular face, a jaw cut from stone, and the look of a pissed-off sergeant. The woman wore her dreads in thick braids, adorned with iron tips and rings. Black mist rose from her black cloak and white hood. Lucian and Senna, Caitlyn assumed.