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  • Coupled

    Chapter by smatster · 19 Oct 2025
  • Gina forms a deep connection with Rupert
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  • Rupert swam up from the depths of a strange, warm dream. The first thing he registered was pressure—a firm, encompassing softness against his face. The second was a dull, deep fullness, an internal presence that felt both alien and intimately familiar. He tried to open his eyes and was looking through pale, freckled flesh. He was pressed tightly against Gina, his head utterly engulfed by her breasts, his smaller frame molded to her larger, thicker one. And he was impaled. The 13-inch cock that had once been Danny’s inferior equipment but was now indisputably Gina’s, was buried to the hilt inside him, a constant, throbbing connection.

    He tried to move, to push himself away, but his body refused to obey. His arms lay limp at his sides. Panic began to prickle at the edges of his consciousness. What the hell is going on? he tried to say, but only a muffled, breathy grunt escaped, swallowed by Gina’s chest.

    Gina was focused on a more immediate need. Standing in front of the toilet bowl, she leaned forward slightly, and Rupert felt a bizarre sensation—a twitch, a release that wasn't his own. He realized with dawning horror that his cock, now an impressive length he could feel was being used. He could feel the stream of piss arc out, hearing it splash distantly into the toilet bowl Gina was aiming at. She was pissing with his body. The violation was absolute, and yet, a strange, detached part of him noted the sheer practicality of it.

    She finished and sighed contentedly. Then, a new urge surfaced. "Ooh, right, other end," she mumbled to herself, her voice caused a soft rumble he felt through her chest.

    She shifted, turning with an effortless strength as Gina carried Rupert’s passive form with her. They moved to sit on the toilet, and she began to lower their connected bodies onto the seat. It was then that Rupert found a sliver of voice.

    “G-Gina? What… what are you doing? I can’t… move,” he stammered, his words strained.

    Gina started slightly, as if hearing a faint radio signal. “Oh! You’re awake in there! Hi, Rupert!” she chirped, her tone breezy and unconcerned. She settled fully onto the cold porcelain, the motion pressing the cock even deeper inside him. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Just… relax. I think I’ve got the hang of this.”

    As she spoke, Rupert felt a tremendous pressure building low in his own gut, a pressure that was clearly flowing to her. He was merely the… receptacle. Gina let go with a loud, rumbling fart that echoed in the small bathroom. After some grunt and pushing he could tell by her twitching inside him a massive, solid weight emptied from her bowels, and he felt a wave of the release through their connected bodies. It was humiliating and bizarrely intimate. When she was done, she reached behind her—using her arms and wiped herself clean.

    She stood up, flushed, and walked them out of the bathroom, Rupert’s body moving in perfect, unprotesting sync with hers. Back in the main party space, the air was still thick with magic and the aftermath of desire. Gina felt a warm, post-relief horniness stirring within her. Absentmindedly, as she scanned the room, she began to explore. With Rupert’s arms, which she now controlled as easily as her own, she reached around and began to rub his chest and stomach, feeling the taut muscles of the body she was piloting. Simultaneously, with her own hands, she cupped and squeezed the heavy curves of her breasts and hips, a slow, narcissistic caress.

    The dual sensation—feeling Rupert’s body from the inside while groping her own from the outside—sent a jolt of pleasure through their shared nervous system. It was a feedback loop of sensation that crested suddenly in a sharp, internal orgasm that made both their bodies tremble. Rupert gasped, a wave of pleasure that wasn't entirely his own washing over him, short-circuiting his panic.

    In its wake came clarity for Gina. The connection solidified. She wasn't just controlling him; they were a single entity, and she was the pilot.

    "Right then," she said, her voice calm and sure. "I'm peckish."

    She guided their four-legged, two-bodied form over to the snack table. With one of Rupert's hands, she picked up a chip and brought it to his mouth to feed him. She asked if he was thirty and with one of her own hands, she grabbed a beer bottle, letting him drink deeply. She could taste the salty chips and crisp lager through his senses, a symphony of her feeding them was conducted.

    Hearing a slow song come on the stereo, a delighted grin spread across her face. She moved them to a clear space on the floor. Then, in a display of breathtaking coordination, she began to dance. She swayed Gina’s hips in a slow, sensual circle while making Rupert’s body follow, his hands resting back on her waist while she held Rupert in her arms. It was a couples dance, performed by one. At the end Gina lowered her head against Rupert's enveloped head, nuzzling the top of his head and he could maneuver enough to kiss, it turning sensual.

    Rupert, the perpetual passenger, gave up his struggle. The fear was still there, a tiny ember, but it was overshadowed by the sheer, bizarre comfort of it. He was being held, fed, and danced with, all by the same person—a person who was, in a very real way, his universe. He closed his eyes as Gina steered, losing himself in the strange rhythm of their shared existence.
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anon_76d2daa2ac70 ∙ 29 Nov 2025