“‘Ello? Oh, Sera! Good to hear from you, luv!”

Charlotte Ballard held the phone to her ear, seated comfortably in a wicker chair out in the garden. It was unseasonably warm today, which Charlotte was happy to take advantage of; Ice-type or no, a little sun never hurt anyone, and besides which the Weavile had a glass of ice water to keep herself cool.

“How’s your brother, then? Still a drunk little prick?” Charlotte snickered before taking a sip of her water, listening to Seraphine respond. The Weavile was in an unusually sunny mood today; even her good moods were usually severe in that repressed northern-English way, but today she was in cheerful spirits.

“No, Portia’s not any trouble. She’s inside washing the dishes with clamps on her tits, but honestly the clamps are just a precaution. She hasn’t caused too much trouble.” Another pause, before she laughed. “Right, right, not yet at least.” A bee landed on the armrest of Charlotte’s chair, which she flicked away with a swipe of her hand.

“Heather?” A big, smug grin spread across Charlotte’s face. “Well, I think Heather can tell you herself.” The Weavile reached her hand down between her legs, pressing the phone against a certain Cinccino’s ear. “Go on, tell her!”

Heather heaved a deep, exhausted sigh into the receiver. “We made a bet,” she said, icily. “Manchester played Chelsea, and we bet that whoever’s team won would serve the other for a day.” She gave another sigh. “Manchester won.”

“Right, that’s enough out of you,” Charlotte said, bringing the phone back up to her ear before continuing her conversation. “Oi, you’re in Paris, right? Do you remember that little bakery a couple of blocks from Sebastian’s place? Aye, that one. Could you bring back-oh, hold on.” A strong hand yanked at Heather’s headfur, pulling her face out from between Charlotte’s legs.

“I don’t think I’m feeling enough tongue,” Charlotte said, impishly.

Heather flushed, and her rounded ears twitched. “Charlotte, haven’t I done enough?” Her posh, upscale received pronunciation contrasted with Charlotte’s playful Manchester drawl.

“You’re done when I say you’re done,” Charlotte said. “Understood?” She smiled. “Say ‘Yes, Miss Charlotte’.”

Heather winced. “Y-yes, Miss Charlotte.”

“Good girl.” With that, she put Heather back into place between her bare, spread legs, and the Cinccino got back to work.

This was not, suffice it to say, a position Heather was familiar with. She had been eaten out many times, whether by girlfriends or submissives that had been placed in her care. She had given oral to Charlotte before, certainly, but not like this! Not in her own garden, kneeling on the ground like some kind of slave, her face buried in the Weavile’s cunt!

Those moist pink folds, smooth and neatly groomed, were a pleasure to lick, of course. Heather shut her eyes and leaned forward, flicking her tongue out and licking up and down Charlotte’s pussy. She teased the entrance, giving loving little licks, before flicking up to the clit and giving that a bit of attention.

“Y’know, I forgot how good you are at this,” Charlotte preened, taking a sip from her water as Heather ate her out. “Shame you’re always so uptight about getting under me. But we could all use a humbling every now and then, hmmm?” She condescendingly patted Heather’s cheek; the Cinccino practically blushed in neon.

Still, it was easy enough to fall into a rhythm. It wasn’t like with sucking men off, where you had to bob your head and watch your gag reflex; here, you just needed to come up for air every now and then. Heather rested her hands on Charlotte’s thighs, nuzzling her face deeper between her legs and licking a little more eagerly. She began to take deeper breaths through her nose, both to get air and to take in more of Charlotte’s hot, feminine scent. As she flicked her tongue over the clit again, Heather began to shudder, and she began to feel warmth and wetness of her own, before-

“Right, then,” Charlotte said, smiling as she kept her firm grip on the back of Heather’s head. The Weavile had shoved the sub-for-a-day’s face flush up against her pussy, trapping her nose against her folds and holding her still. She propped her feet up on Heather’s shoulders, again reinforcing her position, before she started to speak.

“I’m not letting you up until I come,” Charlotte said. “I’m going to let you take a deep breath, but you’re going right back in until I’m done. Got it?” Heather, giving a muffled whine, nodded. “Good girl. Now…” Charlotte jerked Heather’s head back, letting her get a big gasp of air to prepare herself. “Ready?” Before Heather could answer, she was plunged right back into that warm, sticky prison.

Heather tried her best to ignore the pussy juices, hot and insidious, seeping into her face and matting her fur. She tried to ignore the legs that hugged against the back of her head, keeping her still and constricting slowly. She tried to ignore the prickly feeling that already started in her lungs. The only thing she tried to focus on was pleasing Charlotte, on licking her pussy and earning her air.

Heather’s cunt worship was eager and loud, the wet, suckling noises of lips and tongue meeting those soft folds the only sound coming from beneath Charlotte. She shoved her tongue inside, swirling it around to make the Weavile squirm, before attacking her clit for all she had.

She flicked, teased, swirled, suckled, nibbled, nuzzled, sniffed, kissed, moaned, and did everything she could to pleasure Charlotte. She was putting more work into worshiping her cunt than she put into her senior thesis. Heather ran her hands up and down Charlotte’s thighs, grabbing hold as she kept her work up, and why the fuck wasn’t she coming?

The prickling in her lungs had turned into a full-on burn, the Cinccino’s face growing red and her eyes going wide as she started to run out of precious air. She tapped at Charlotte’s thighs to tell her; the Weavile smirked and ignored her. Heather tapped again, with a panicked “mmmmf!”; Charlotte swatted her hands away.

“MMMMMF!” Heather smacked at Charlotte’s thighs, hammering at them as she squirmed to get free. Charlotte grabbed her wrists, holding them still, and growled. 

“Try harder.”

On the verge of passing out, Heather did everything she could. She thrust her tongue in and out of Charlotte’s cunt, she pressed her nose against her clit and wriggled her face in deeper, she rubbed up and down, frantically trying everything she thought of, the edges of her vision growing fuzzy, and-

A muffled grunt, and Charlotte opened up her legs, giving Heather air. The Cinccino gasped and panted for fresh air, letting it rush into her lungs and wake her up, her tongue lolling out.

Of course, given her position, that earned her a hot mouthful of Charlotte’s sweet, honeyed femcum, making the Cinccino choke and sputter from the surprise as her face was coated in the sticky stuff.

Maybe she needed to be humbled, after all.