Councilwoman One - Part 3 (Patreon)

While the Mighty Monarch is out of the house, probably off to scream obscenities at VenTech tower, Gary and Dr Mrs continue their little impromptu competition.  No wagers, no winning prize, just two 'adversaries' pitting their respective skills against one another to see who comes out on top...in a manner of speaking.

Still straddling his lap, Gary watches as Dr Mrs continues to contort her hips this way and that, grinding and twisting on the thickest portion of his shaft.  Eyes tightly closed, her gloss red fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, Sheila fights the urge to come before her henchman.  The combination of pleasure and pain from the Henchman's massive girth squeezed by her tiny stature is almost too much to bear.  Likewise, on the verge of coming himself and unwilling to give in to her persist torment, Gary grits his teeth as Dr Mrs' vagina contracts and swivels around him.  

For nearly half an hour they battle on, slick with sweat, bobbing and thrust, one trying to gain an upper hand over the other.  Teeth gnashing, her breath coming in short, halting heaves, the Councilwoman opens her eyes expecting to see Gary grinning back at her, anticipating her nearing defeat.  What she finds, however, is the henchman staring back at her with a mirrored 'can't fight it anymore' expression on his face.

Gary and Dr Mrs: (in unison) Gonna come!

Gary: J...  Jinx, you owe m-me a Coke!

Before she can even begin to retort, Gary suddenly wraps his arms around her waste, pulling her towards him, his face smashed between her breasts once more as he holds her in place.  Spasm after spasm of warm goo instantly fills her cervix, pushing into her womb, unable squeeze past his enormity.  In the same instance, Sheila's toes curl to the point of cramping, her eyes slamming shut as she almost affectionately wraps her arms around his head.  A wavering howl of joy escapes her as ripple after unending ripple of pleasure courses through her entire body.  Both of them shiver and shake, holding one another, Gary's manhood still pulsing inside the dark-haired beauty, pumping her fuller and fuller.

Letting go of her, their bodies suddenly weakened by the sudden release, Sheila slumps forward onto Gary.  Her head coming to rest on his shoulder, she raises her hips, letting the Henchman's still erect and twitching member slip from inside her.  Utterly spent, both them practically hyperventilating, a little chuckle escapes Dr Mrs as Gary's seed begins to ooze down her inner thighs.

Gary: Whuz...  Whuz so f-f-funny?

Dr Mrs: I...  I th-think we can call th-that one a d-draw.

Gary: Best, th-three out of f-five?

Dr Mrs: Oh, you...  You think we're s-stopping at f-five, huh?

Gary: Jeesh!  You...  You're insatiable, woman.

Smiling as she clambers off of Gary's lap, suddenly weak in the knees, Sheila stumbles a bit until she feels...  Looking down, what seems like liters of pearlescent white gook runs down her fishnet stockings, dripping onto her platform heels.

Dr Mrs:  Uck.  Jesus, Gary.  How much can you possibly have left?  Ok, shower first...  Then I'll let you see how insatiable I can really be.

Ten minutes later, having walked around the downstairs wiping up any incriminating evidence, Gary wanders upstairs.  Peeking around the bathroom door frame, he finds Dr Mrs standing in her clawfoot bathtub.  Steam rolling over the top of the transparent shower curtain surround, her hourglass figure silhouetted by the window beyond.  Gary can't help but to snicker, listening as Sheila absolutely murders The Human League's 'Don't You Want Me' with her deep, raspy voice.  Trying to be as stealthy as he can, Gary slips open the shower curtain and steps inside behind her.

Dr Mrs: (singing) Don't you want me, baby?  

Rock hard once again, Gary grabs Sheila by the hips, pulling her towards him as he jams his member into her thigh gap.  

Dr Mrs: (singing) Don't you want me, ohhhHHHOLY SHIT!

Startled and flailing, her face wrinkled up in anger, Dr Mrs is just about to wheel around and face her intruder when she notices what is easily eight inches of Gary's huge shaft protruding from between her thighs.  Sheila's jaw drops open, her angered expression instantly changing to one of sheer awe. Just as she's about to make some smart-alecky remark, Gary begins to saw his member back and forth.  Her shower-relaxed labia draping over either side of the gargantuan cylinder, Dr Mrs lets out a long stammering sigh of delight as his massive helmet brushes against her clitoris with ever stroke.

After a while Gary's knees begin to shake from crouching down in such an awkward position.  On his next outward stroke he quickly adjusts his angle of attack, jamming his member upwards and inwards.  Sheila barely has any time to react, letting out a half-heartened cry of protest as a full two-thirds of his shaft plunges into her.  Attempting to lean forward in order to more easily accept the monster, Gary stops her, grabbing her by the back of her biceps and pulling her towards him.  Fully expecting him to start pounding her from behind, Dr Mrs quips.

Dr Mrs: Wh-what now, h-henchman?  I...  I b-bet those knees are absolutely k-killing you right about n-now, aren't thhh...

Dr Mrs trails off in a low moan of mixed pleasure and pain, her eyes bulging as Gary straightens his knees.  Taking advantage of her short stature, Twenty-One leans back, pushing his hips forward to counter her weight, lifting Sheila's feet off the tub floor.  A long stuttering exhale escapes her, toes curling into fists, her fingers splayed wide as she jolts down the remainder of his shaft.  

Sheila's taint coming to rest on his pubic bone, she scarcely notices the extreme bulge in her belly from Gary's massive length and girth inside her.  She thought she'd felt the fullness of his entirety inside her earlier that morning, but none of that compares to this.  She can feel every void and wrinkle, from her -lips- to far beyond her cervix, pressed flat by his enormity.  Every passing second is a mix of agony and enjoyment for her...and Gary knows there is nothing she can do about it.

Literally impaled on this manhood, Gary lets her hang there for a few minutes.  Moaning and shivering, inhaling and exhaling in short gasps, Sheila's eyes cross, rolling back into her head.  Sure, she's been tied up and 'helpless' as some supervillian drove themselves into her plenty of times, but none that even remotely compares to this.  She is in fact, truly helpless...and quickly becoming none too happy about it.  Gary, however, reminds her that this is a contest...and not a test of her hatred of vulnerability.

Gary: What's the magic word?

Dr Mrs: FFFF...  FFFF...  FUCK YOU!

Gary: That's the general idea, but no.

Gary bends his knees and leans forward just enough for the tips of Sheila's toes touch the bottom of the tub, teasing her.  Writhing and squirming, her toes making squeaking noises on the porcelain, she can hear him snickering behind her.  Now seething with anger, her wriggling contortions only make the pain worse.

Dr Mrs: MOTHERFUCKER!  L-LL-LEMMEE D-DOWN!  YOU...  YOU...  YOU ARE SOOO GONNA...  SO GONNA F-FFF-FUCKING PAY!

Gary: Still not hearing it.

Gary hoists her back up.  This time, however, he quickly runs one arm under her armpit...and then the other.  Reaching up and back, interlocking his fingers behind her head, he pins her in a (wrestling) full nelson.  Windmilling her arms, her chin now pressed against her chest, Sheila gnashes her teeth, snarling and groaning at the same time.  Now forced to look down, she finally notices that her innie belly button has become an outie, pushed outward by Gary's protruding behemoth.  Already buried to the hilt inside her, the position only pushes her harder onto him. 

Aside from doing something drastic and end up hurting the henchman (or herself), Sheila finally comes to the realization that there's nothing she can do.  She's never been one to admit defeat, maybe caving to the occasional stalemate a time or two, but...  Yeah, no...she just can't take it anymore.

Dr Mrs: HHNNNNNGH!  HOLYSHHH!  

Gary: I'm sorry, what was that?

Gary pulls his arms downward while rolling his hips upwards, pressing her onto him just enough to...

Dr Mrs: MUTHHHERFUHHHKKER!  OHMYFUCKINGGAWD!  UNCLE GODDAMNIT!  UNCLE!

Gary: See?  That wasn't so hard, now was it?

Leaning forward and bending his knees, Gary lets her down just enough for her feet to touch the tub, his adversary gingerly pulling herself off his pillar.  Her face flushed red with a combination pain and anger, her whole body shaking, Sheila looks over her shoulder and scowls at him.  Gary in turn grins at her like the Cheshire Cat, chuckling under his breath.  Wheeling around, she feebly smacks him on the chest several times, her energy all but spent.

Dr Mrs: Tha's (smack) not (smack) fucking (smack) funny (smack), Gary!  That really fucking hurt!

Gary: (mockingly) Awww, po' wittle butterfly.  Did the big bad henchman hurt choo'?  Yeah, no...most of those moans and groans DID NOT even remotely sound like cries of pain.  And if I had to guess, because you and the boss are total freakie-deekies, you thoroughly enjoyed that.  So yeah, I'm gonna take that as a win.

Sheila instantly snarls her lips in anger.  Then, almost as quickly, her infuriated expression fades to an impish smile.  He is right after all.

Dr Mrs: Ok, maybe just a tiny little bit, but...

Glaring up at him, Dr Mrs reaches out and grabs Gary's rod just below the head, squeezing it just tight enough to get her point across without actually hurting him.  Gary, his eyes wide with fear, instantly gives her his full and undivided attention

Dr Mrs: ...don't you EVER do that shit again!  And I'm fucking freezing!  Goddamned hot water ran out, like, twenty minutes ago!

Flinging the shower curtain aside with one hand, her other still grasping Gary's manhood, Dr Mrs steps out of the tub.  Quite literally being pulled along, Gary slips and slides, nearly losing his balance as he scurries over the side of the bathtub.  Out of the bathroom and down the hall, Gary shuffles along on his tiptoes the entire way.  

Leading him into the master bedroom, Sheila stops at the foot of the bed, turns and sits down.  Still holding onto his masculinity, she raises and eyebrow, looking up at the bewildered henchman as she taps her index finger against her lips in contemplation.

Dr Mrs: Hmmm.  What to do with you?

Looking around at the chaotic mess that still litters the room from the his primary's 'disagreement' earlier that day, Gary can't help but notice the baffling array of sex toys, costumes, and various strapped on devices strewn about.  Once again spotting her cheerleader outfit draped over the edge of the bed, Gary smirks, raises his hand like a schoolboy trying to answer a teachers question, and opens his mouth to say something.  Annoyed by his wandering eyes, Dr Mrs pushes the tips of her fingernails into the soft underside of his urethra.  Gary's head and eyes instantly snap back to hers.

Dr Mrs: That was a rhetorical question.

Looking over her shoulder to see what he was looking at, Dr Mrs eyes the black and marigold colored skirt.  Rolling her eyes while shaking her head, Sheila silently mouths 'no' as she turns to face him.  Inwardly amused by the pouting expression on his face, she gives him an apathetic look in return.

Dr Mrs: All day long you've had me bent over, poked, prodded, stuffed, and...

Gary: (smirking) Impaled?

Again, Dr Mrs stabs her fingernails into his member.  Gary, again, gives her his full and undivided attention, his smirk instantly disappearing.

Dr Mrs: Yeah, ok...nice one, Vlad.  I was going to say 'mounted', smart ass.  (points at his member with her free hand) All day long you've had that...that...monster jammed inside me, but there's one thing you haven't done...

Gary relaxes, letting out a long sigh of relief as Dr Mrs finally releases her grip.  Sheila leans backwards, grabbing her black service cap off the bed, and then plops it onto her wet head.  Propping herself up on one arm, an alluringly devious smile crosses her face as she spreads her legs wide.  Biting her lower lip, she runs her free hand over her bald mound, her ring and middle fingers parting her crimson-tinged and swollen labia.  

Dr Mrs: (sternly) On your knees, henchman.  It's time to service your queen butterfly. 

Gary: (smirking, faux-obediently) As you command, mighty Sovereign.

Original Art by HD-2

Commissioned by Phillipthe2