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Would you believe Taylor if he said the love of his life sends him out to seduce other women, and leave them with nothing but his cum to remember him by?
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A lowly member of a SWAT team ends up caring for a former sex slave.
Trevor never anticipated his life would go this route.
Had you told him a week ago he’d be part of the SWAT team that liberated sex slaves from a local warehouse, he would have insisted that nothing like that would happen in his small town. That his position on the SWAT team is mostly through nepotism, and that he himself could never possibly do something so great for victims of a serious crime.
Trevor was wrong. Hilariously and humiliatingly so.
While he was called to a raid of a warehouse, he thought it would turn up absolutely nothing. But alas, the national media has been going insane with the findings. And in a lot of ways, he’s been promoted. Sort of.
The girl that he carried out of the warehouse, she seemed to cling to him. Refusing to speak to anyone but him, Which, he sort of took as a compliment. He never thought of himself as much, but he did something right. All he did was pick up the first woman he saw on the ground. He used his lock buster to get the chains off of her, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and then carried her to safety.
They still have no idea on who she is. Or any of the girls, minus three who were identified a few days ago. They’re the lucky ones, so people say. Yet the reality is that their families will not know what to do with them. Unfortunately, these women are a bit on the tainted side.
They’ve all been brainwashed into sex slavery.
A very complex type of brainwashing occurred. Not many people have any idea of how to combat it. The guys at the FBI are still working on it. But for Trevor, it’s all feeling a bit archaic. He was tasked with keeping the woman that attached herself to him. Because, what else were they supposed to do with the ones that attached themselves to the men who rescued them? Exactly. No one knew what to do, so those like Trevor got tasked with taking care of theirs.
Which is fine. He’d wanted to get, like, a Shih Tzu or a cat or something. Maybe some fish. The pay for this is good, at least. And all he has to do is stay home and protect her. Try to ease her mind into understanding she’s more than just a piece of meat.
The woman is rather gorgeous. Long black hair that Trevor brushes out and puts in a high ponytail, so that it gets dirty at a much slower rate. Porcelain skin with very few flaws or markings, given what the lady went through, he finds that rather surprising. Her eyes are a dark brown., when the light hits them properly, they look like delicate pools of honey.
However, he hasn’t get figured out how to get her to say her name. All she’s said thus far has been various things regarding pleasing him sexually. Which, for good reason, he’s turned down. There are lines someone shouldn’t cross, and Trevor is pretty sure taking advantage of a sex slave is one of those lines. Sure, he laughs at things he shouldn’t on the internet, but he’d still like to cross the pearly gates and dap Saint Peter up.
She’s Asian, she has huge natural breasts, and she’s lactating rather heavily. Other than that, and where he rescued her from, Trevor knows absolutely nothing else about her.
Every day, he gets new information on how to help her. He can submit concerns and inquiries to the FBI agents managing the case, and they’ve been fairly good about responding to him. However, today, he got a response he was not expecting.
In order to assist her with the issue of breast heaviness and prevent mastitis, we recommend milking her with either your hands or a breast pump. Or perhaps both, if she will allow you to touch her in such a way. Do let us know how this goes as it may assist the other women with lactation issues.
Well, shit.
He’s been calling her Elena. Not for any particular reason, it was just the first thing that came to mind when he realized he couldn’t keep calling her ‘woman’ or ‘ma’am’. It felt rude to him, since she’s living in his apartment now. Trevor rarely leaves her alone, so like everyone else in 2024, he ordered a breast pump from Amazon. He never thought he’d have videos on how to use such a thing in his YouTube history, yet, here he is, watching a video on how to properly use a breast pump.
The money’s worth it.
He keeps telling himself that.
Lately, though, her passes at him have gotten even more brazen. Elena began trying to take off his belt, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Wouldn’t taking advantage of her mental state be wrong? He doesn’t know what to do. As badly as he wants to keep his soul intact, he’s only human, he’s going to break down at some point. And he knows it.
Due to her tender condition, most of the time she spends is tied up. Trevor purchased a set of leather bondage restraints, they’re quite fancy. But this wasn’t really the use he had intended for them. It just sort of worked out that way.
With a tired look on his face, he walks into what used to be his guest bedroom. There Elena is, laying on her back on the bed in a pink night gown. The black restraints around her wrists and ankles are a stark contrast to her milky, porcelain skin.
“Please, please help me…”
It’s a common sentence from her. Trevor didn’t know exactly what she meant by that until he figured out she was begging for a milking. Apparently it can be quite painful for a woman’s breasts to get so full. If he had known that sooner, well, he could have helped her sooner. But, thankfully, no one expects him to be perfect in his care for her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he says softly, nodding his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Elena wiggles a little bit, but doesn’t fight her constraints. She hasn’t really fought him on much of anything since he had her. Aside from her sexual advances at him. Yet, looking at her now in those restraints, and how much heavier her bust has gotten, Trevor wonders briefly if his resolves will truly prevail.
“Alright,” Trevor moves forward, taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s warm, that’s his first thought as he feels her thigh against his lower back. Her skin’s so soft, and she’s just… gorgeous. So unbelievably gorgeous and alluring.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, she speaks again.
“Please, please, please help me.”
Holding onto the milking machine in his hand, he grabs one of the pumps and turns himself around, getting onto the bed on his knees.
Looking over her breasts, he finds them without flaw. Her nipples look painfully hard, leaking a little bit in a last ditch effort to get some relief. He really feels awful he didn’t figure this out sooner, or ask about it. Holding onto the pump, he gently presses it to her right nipple. Elena wiggles a little, but seems to let out a deep sigh as she knows what is about to come for her.
Relief. Sweet, sweet breast relief.
Trevor flips the switch on the first pump, and Elena lets out a rather satisfied groan. Applying the second pump to her left breast, she makes the same noise. He watches rather eagerly as her nipples get suckled into the machine, and an off-white liquid seems to start filling up the little bottles attached.
It’s actually pretty hot.
Swallowing a little, he steps off of the bed and simply watches her. As the milking machine takes care of her breasts, suckling her nipples and releasing the sweet milk that had been building up in her for days. His eyes watch as she gets her relief, and he begins to feel something stirring in his pants.
Shit, he’s getting hard! Watching her grind her thighs together for friction, watching her wrists and ankles grind against the restraints, the look of pure contentment on her face. Trevor doesn’t know what to do.
But, what if, crossing that line could help Elena? If this is her normal, what she’s been brainwashed into, and if it’s her normal, what if that means he can replicate those steps to undo the brainwashing? Or… is that all just a thought to justify why he’s unbuckling his belt? Something to make him feel less bad about removing his shirt and stepping out of his pants. Significantly less guilt about hooking his thumbs in his boxers and yanking them down as he steps towards the bed.
His long cock is getting significantly harder the more he watches. Elena seems to be none the wiser at the moment as she continues to writhe and moan in relief. Maybe he had been apprehensive about this at first, but now it makes sense in his mind.
To undo the damage, he has to do the things that were done to Elena, but in a non-damaging way.
Sometimes he can be so stupid. The answer was right in front of him the whole time.
As he crawls onto the bed, Elena opens her eyes. When she sees a man crawling on top of her, she stops grinding her thighs together, instead spreading her legs and relaxing the bondage restraints on her ankles significantly. Her deep brown eyes stare up into his greens, and the moans of relief turn into ones of need.
While she doesn’t talk much outside of expressing her need of help with being milked, Elena keeps staring up at Trevor as he gets on his knees between her legs. His eyes flick from her gorgeous breasts being milked by the machine, and down to her cunt. It’s wet. Wetter than he’s ever seen a woman be. Lifting his hand, he has to touch it, reaching his hand down between her legs and gently feeling how soaked she is. He shivers at the feeling. Elena’s cunt is hot, it’s wet, and that delicate hole feels so tight despite all she had gone through.
Elena whimpers a little as Trevor moves his fingers up and down her cunt. Naturally, she’s ready to take a rather good pounding. As the machine continues to drain her breasts, she becomes aware of the other thing in the room that needs to be drained. Trevor’s balls.
How long has it been since he got laid? Far too long. His cock is now completely hard, a drip of precum leaks from his tip, his head flared and angry. Removing his fingers from the stroking motions of Elena’s sopping cunt, he uses her sweet slick to stroke his cock. Getting it nice and wet as he angles his needy head against her entrance.
Elena bites her lip a little bit, lifting her head up to look down. Just in time to watch that hard, thick prick sinking right into her hole. She whimpers again before letting out a low moan. “Yes…” she whispers the word, licking at her lips as she watches on. More and more of his cock slipping inside of her.
Trevor grabs onto the sheets for dear life, his head hanging low as he pants through his breaths. She’s so tight! It’s like trying to fuck a wet fist, or tucking a hallway into a hot dog.
He keeps moving, shifting his hips and pushing his entire cock inside of her. Not stopping until he can feel the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. If only he could go further… but she’s such a good fit, he’s so deep inside of her, he can feel her walls throbbing around his prick.
There was never a chance he was going to last very long, not his first time being with her. Pulling his hips back, he starts to give her sharp, deep thrusts. Pulling out of her completely feels impossible. He’s panting and groaning, jutting his cock into her over and over again, spearing his cock, prying her walls apart.
“Ah! Yes!” Elena cries out more, her wrists pulling on the restraints as her body starts to twitch and convulse a bit. Trevor can’t take it, he needs to feel those amazing, immaculate, delicious breasts for himself. Quickly, he yanks the pump off of her, letting it clatter to the floor. Her hefty bust is still leaking milk, but he doesn’t care.
Grabbing onto both of her tits, Trevor squeezes them hard, feeling an ooze of liquid against his hands. Fuck! It feels so good, sinking his cock in and out of her so deeply, battering at her cervix as her tit flesh bubbles around his fingers. Elena’s delicious milk leaks out against his hands, making a rather big wet mess underneath of her on the sheets. Fuck it, he can clean it up later.
Elena keeps looking up at Trevor as if he’s a saint. His cock feels so good hammering in and out of her pussy, his balls smacking against her ass. It’s all so familiar to her, yet it feels so much different than the other guys.
That’s when it hits her.
She’s not in the warehouse anymore!
When she blinks, it suddenly looks like there might be someone home in her head after all this time. Trevor lets out a gasp as he sees this, some guilt setting into the pit of his stomach, but it’s impossible for him to stop throttling his cock in and out of her snatch.
“A-Are you okay?!” He asks, but still can’t stop, rocking the bed with his thrusts. Making her breasts shake in his powerful grasp.
“Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!” Elena nods, unable to really say another word other than the affirmative.
“Okay… okay, good!”
Trevor still can’t stop. The way her pussy is starting to tighten up, he can bet she’s about to cum. A blush forms on her body and he can tell she’s heating up. He keeps his grip on her breasts tight, using her restrained body as leverage to fuck her with everything he has. Slapping his balls against her ass in stinging plaps, letting her juices coat his entire sex and dribble out onto the bed. Fuck it all, he’ll clean up after her during her next bath… which is probably going to be tonight, considering how much she’s sweating. It’s all his fault.
Elena writhes and gasps underneath of Trevor, her eyes closing tight and her whole body shaking as her cunt starts to throb more intensely against his cock. As if trying to suckle the cum from straight from his balls.
She really was trained wonderfully… but he shouldn’t be thinking like that! He does want to help her, it’s just hard to focus on helping her when his cock is being drained dry.
It only takes mere seconds more of slamming his cock in and out of her pussy before Trevor erupts inside of her. He hilts himself, grinding his balls against her ass as he tosses his head back and groans loudly. Spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum floods Elena’s throbbing canal. Painting her insides white as his sweat drips from his brow onto her, and the bed.
Huffing, panting, he releases his firm grip on her breasts, only to find they’re still leaking quite heavily. “Ah, shit, lemme…”
With a great air of reluctance, Trevor pulls himself out of Elena’s messy pussy, a trail of his cum following his cock out. Stumbling off of the bed a bit, he grabs the machine, standing on his shaky legs and leaning over her.
“Yes, please, help me.” Elena says, though her gaze is a bit more tired now. And once again, it looks like she’s not all there in the head. Shit, he hates seeing that look returning. But he’ll figure something out. He always does.
Placing the milking machine back onto each of her reddened breasts, he lets out a little laugh. “We’ll work on that some more later. Get some rest. I’m gonna get a shower…”
Trevor enjoyed his shower, but his mind was in a flurry of different thoughts. He’d been fucking Elena, and it looked like she had a spark when it happened. Was it possible he was right? Could having sex with her, could milking her, keeping her comfortable be the key to freeing her mind of her severe brainwashing?
It almost makes sense. To wake her up from her nightmare, he needs to be good to her. Different than her captors. He needs to prove he’s better than all of this shit she went through in the warehouse. So that she can be reunited with her family.
That’s always the end goal, right?
What if he doesn’t want her to go away? No, it’s for the best. Truthfully, he can’t babysit her forever. And it’s very likely she won’t want to stick around once she remembers everything. She’s somebody’s daughter, someone’s sister, perhaps even someone’s mother. People are looking for her, maybe in another country. More than likely, once she remembers who she is, he’s not gonna see his Elena again.
While it hurts, he knows that’s how it has to be. His job right now is to help her in every way he can.
After getting himself dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts, Trevor went back to check on Elena. Knowing full well she herself needs a good bath. He found the bottles on the milking machine were almost overwhelmed with how much they got. So he took them to the kitchen, dumping them out and giving them a good wash.
Once he got the milking machine back into one piece, he placed it on the sink in the guest en suite. Approaching Elena, she looks a good bit tired. As she should be. He put in a lot of work fucking her guts out, even if it was a bit short lived. No matter, he has a feeling he’ll be doing that again.
Getting the restraints off of her is easy. She doesn’t recoil or fight or try to run away. Doesn’t fight him off or make a run for it. It makes him smile a good bit, it’s a nice feeling to know she trusts him so much. Picking her up bridal style, Trevor is very careful carrying her to the en suite. Squatting down, he places her gently in the warm, bubbly water. He can swear he sees a smile on her face.
Elena has always liked bath time, in the few days he’s had her. She’s capable of sitting up on her own and assisting with her own washing, thankfully, so there isn’t a lot he really has to do for her. But he wants to. He wants to help wash her and talk to her and try to bring her out of her own mind.
Suddenly, his phone vibrates on the sink next to the milking machine.
“Shit, don’t go anywhere,” he says with a little smirk as he stands up and walks to the sink. Elena seems to be watching him with her big brown eyes. There’s something about him that makes her truly comfortable, she really can’t deny it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know why. It’s becoming obvious to her that there’s something trying to claw out of her. Out of her mind, her throat, through her tongue.
Elena, the real Elena, the one before she became a sex slave, desperately wants to be freed. Not that she could ever communicate that to him, or to anyone else, really.
So what can she do besides enjoy her time in the bath?
Checking his phone, he finds an email from one of the FBI agents. What;s inside is rather intriguing.
Research has found these women were brainwashed through hypnotic videos and subliminal messaging. We’ve known this since before the warehouse was discovered, and thankfully we’ve finished a beta version of a hypnotic video and audio segment that may assist in undoing some of the damage. We will have different versions available and emailed to you keeps directly. Keep us updated on any results.
Well, that’s unexpected.
He downloads the video, figuring he’ll play it for her while he bathes her and gives her another round on the milking machine. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it’ll help bring the real Elena out. Getting a glimpse of her earlier, it was actually something gorgeous. Even if he might lose her eventually, he wants to help her as best he can.
Trevor hangs his phone on the faucet using his Popsocket, taking a few moments to load up the video and press play. His hand reaches for Elena’s head, gently turning her focus away from him and onto the phone across from her.
The video contains a lot of spiraling white lines on a black background. If he looks at it for too long, it hurts his eyes pretty severely. So he sits on his knees by the bathtub, flipping the switches on her milking machine and properly attaching the pumps once more. Making sure they’re on tight, he feels his cock twitching again as her nipples get suckled and her sweet cream begins to fill up the bottles.
Various words flash across the screen, so fast no one would really catch onto them unless they expected them to be there. As the spiral goes around and around in circles, Elena’s sole focus becomes staring at the video. For the first time, she’s useless during her bath. But somehow, Trevor expected that. If the videos are gonna work, she has to have her entire focus on them.
REMEMBER.
BREATHE.
UNLOCK YOUR MIND.
OPEN YOUR MIND.
RELAX YOUR BODY
INHALE.
WHO ARE YOU?
EXHALE.
The swirls reflect in Elena’s eyes as she stares. What is she supposed to remember? How does she unlock her mind? Who is she? As she watches, she realizes she’s being milked. And it feels so good, it’s such a relieving feeling. Hopefully she’ll be empty soon.
While she watches the video, Trevor goes about washing her body. He cleans under her breasts, scrubs her back, releases her ponytail and makes sure he washes her hair very well. Letting her get and stay dirty wouldn’t be good for her, especially considering the filthy conditions they found her in.
Next, he washes her cunt. Gently rubbing it and getting it clean, making sure his cum gets washed away properly. Every few moments, he gives her face a glance. She’s staring so intently at the video, barely blinking.
It’s kind of creepy.
But it becomes less creepy when he remembers this is something that’s going to help her. As he washes and rinses her, he continues to check on various things. Mostly her, making sure she’s okay, watching her face to make sure she’s still awake. Making sure Elena is still breathing, and glimpsing at the video.
It’s rather disorienting, hurts his eyes, so he doesn’t look at it very often or for long. Once she’s fully rinsed off, he turns the video off and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He’s realizing something, she hasn’t made a sexual advance at him the entire time he’d been washing her down!
“Hey! I guess we’re making progress after all, huh?” Trevor knows she can’t answer him. But he does like to talk to her when he does things to or for her. “Alright, let’s empty these bottles…” unlatching the bottles from the pump, he dumps them into the soapy water before dunking them underneath and gently washing them. He turns the faucet on to rinse them out properly, not sure about the proper care for such items, but, he’s doing his damned best at this job.
Yanking on the drain plug, he stands up to grab a towel, turning around and drying Elena’s hair, then her body as the water goes down lower and lower. He really cares for her, taking his time to make sure every possible inch of her body are properly dried out. Part of him seems to thrive in this caregiver role, though he never truly imagined himself in it.
Finally, to end the day, Trevor places her in a chair in the guest room while he replaces her messy sheets and blankets. It only takes a few minutes, but in that time, Trevor’s already received another email.
“Oh come on!” he cries out, wondering what new ‘research’ could exist in the hour he had her naked and soaped up. Taking a small break from replacing the sheets, Trevor opens up his phone to read this email.
Attached is a special set of hypnosis-reversing audio. Play one while she sleeps, play one when she wakes up, and play another whenever you must leave her completely alone in the home. They are labeled accordingly.
Okay, fine, but he still thinks that could have been put in the first email. He’s glad they have more things to help these girls, to help his Elena, but come on! Oh well. “Simple enough. Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Trevor gently lifts Elena bridal style once more and lays her on her back in her bed. One by one, he carefully places those nice leather restraints back onto her limbs. “Goodnight… Elena.”
“… Goodnight, Trevor.”
Trevor feels his eyes go rather wide. Did she..? “… you know my name?!” Progress! Progress is progress! And this, admittedly, is pretty damn good progress. The smile on his face widens as he moves to cover her up with the fresh blanket. “Yeah! Yeah, my name’s Trevor. I carried you out of that warehouse… you never wanted to leave my side. It took a lot to get you to sleep by yourself. A lot of screaming, a lot of crying, you know.”
But when he looks at Elena again, her eyes are blanked out like someone high on painkillers, and she doesn’t really response. Opening her mouth, as if waiting to take his cock into her mouth. He lets out a small sigh, reaching down to gently pat the back of her head, moving her ponytail a little bit. At least she’s doing a bit better now. With a sigh, he takes his phone out once more and starts streaming the sleep audio to the Bluetooth speaker in the guest room.
Hopefully, it does something.
Morning breaks and Trevor opens his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off on his phone. It had been a rather quiet night, one that had him sleep completely through it due to getting to blow a load in his Elena. He remembers it so vividly, he doubts he’ll ever forget it. Hopefully he gets to do it again. But, of course, he won’t force her.
If Elena gets all of her memories back, and doesn’t want to fuck him anymore, Trevor will be okay with that. He’s not a monster. The monsters are who he rescued her from, after all.
Their morning routine carries on as normal. He puts her in a new dress, but notices she’s being more helpful than usual. Actually putting her arms in the dress and smiling at him. Though she didn’t speak again, not her usual sentences or his name or telling him good morning like she said goodnight. Yet he notices those glimpses in her eyes, tiny little beacons of hope that tells Trevor someone is indeed inside of her head.
Hopefully one day, he gets to know her properly.
Elena had breakfast, and then Trevor decided to settle her on the couch. In her little pink dress, she looks rather cute. He can’t help but smile at her as much as possible. “Alright, we’re going to try that video again, on the big television…” once more, he knows she can’t or won’t respond to what he says, but he says it anyway. Humanizing her at every chance he gets. It makes him feel better about the entire situation.
Elena, however, gives a soft nod and a smile. It takes him back a little bit, but he returns the smile as he starts casting the video to his living room television. Just like last night, he can’t really look at the screen for too long. It hurts his head, his brain, too. Because he knows who he is. He knows to breathe.
The audio in the video, he’s realizing, is a low hum. It’s not too different from the warbled humming hypnosis audio he’d put on for her last night. Assuming he’d missed the sounds of the video the previous night because of the sounds of water and being so preoccupied with Elena’s washing and care, he’d tuned it out. It almost makes him feel weird to be hearing such noises.
But, he ignores his own discomfort, for her sake.
Nothing is about him right now, after all. It’s all about making her feel better. Getting her to remember. Blah, blah… blah.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee, Elena.” Trevor’s still trying to humanize her. The FBI agents haven’t said it helps, but it helps him feel better.
“I’ll have mine black.”
As he’s walking into his kitchen, he turns on his heel. She spoke?! Elena wants coffee?! Okay, maybe this video, those audios, are doing exactly what they thought. “Absolutely! One black coffee for you, one black coffee…”
While he walks into the kitchen with that smile plastered on his face, he repeats her words in his mind. Elena does have a gorgeous voice. Cackling a little as he sets the coffee pot to brew something strong, his phone once again vibrates and chimes with an email alert. This time, it’s not annoying. So long as he doesn’t get another one an hour later, with the same fucking information that could have been included in the first fucking one. Fuck.
We’ve discovered the women have been hypnotized in a manner that makes them addicted to semen. While this may seem unethical to most, we’re suggesting that if you are comfortable accepting sexual advances from the woman in your care, please do accept them. It will not harm them in any way, and in exposing them to semen in this safe environment, the symptoms of withdrawal in all aspects will fade alongside the reversal audios and videos. No adverse effects have been reported from this method of treatment. Benzodiazepines have been dropped off in your mailboxes to be administered after these events of sexual contact with the woman in your care, just to be on the safe side regarding adverse reactions.
Extremely unexpected, well, that would be an understatement. Cum addiction?! It explains a lot, actually. Elena had told him goodnight for the first time shortly after he came inside of her. His best assumption is any hole receiving cum has that effect on her. And to think, he had been apprehensive about taking her up on her passes at him. It could have been a way for him to help her this whole time!
“Well, today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” Trevor laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket as the coffee machine beeps. He takes his time to pour them both a good mug, making sure to keep hers black, loading his own down with lots of sugar and creamer.
Walking back into his living room, he happily passes off the mug to Elena. Her hands are a little shaky, but she manages to take it and take a nice, long gulp. It makes Trevor smile yet again as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. And just watches, since he can’t look at the television, watches the gorgeous woman as she drinks down her coffee.
“Glad to hear that you… you know, can say more than you used to. It’s quite nice, you do have a lovely voice.”
Elena doesn’t talk back to him, she simply sits there drinking her coffee.
“Do you like the name I gave you? Elena? I got it from a book I read when I was a kid. Can’t remember the name of it. But I always liked the name,” he muses a little bit as he takes a few drinks of his own coffee. “Rolls off of the tongue pretty well.”
Of course, she doesn’t say anything. Her deep brown eyes are focused on the television as she looks over her mug, seemingly inhaling the aroma in a rather needy fashion in between sips and drinks. Trevor wonders what she’s thinking about, if she’s thinking anything at all. Every few moments he gets those glimpses again, glimpses of someone being behind those glassed over eyes.
“Yeah, I used to read a lot…” he says while still watching her.
Finally, her lips part and her tongue flecks out. She’s gonna speak! Trevor’s on the edge of his seat, wondering what she might say to him. Something worthwhile. Something… impactful, a glimpse into who she really is. Something to help the agents find her family, perhaps?
“Please, please help me.”
Nope.
“Of course, I’ll always help you. That’s what I’m here for…” However, Trevor has another idea. Approaching Elena, he takes her coffee mug and places it with his on the coffee table. Sighing lowly, he gently eases the straps of her dress down. Out pops her gorgeous breasts, which aren’t quite leaking just yet. He can tell they’re engorged, though, and that she needs some more relief.
Taking the milking machine off of the coffee table, he’s once more rather gentle with applying it to her nipples. Turning it on, and letting the gentle suction start releasing the creamy fluid from her breasts.
“Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me yet, I got something else for you.”
Trevor figures the sounds from the video are a bit more important than the visual elements, considering the other clips he’d received. Still standing in front of her, his thumbs hook into his shorts and he pulls them down to his ankles. She has an addiction to cum, so she may have been asking for help in two different ways this whole time. Now he understands it, and he can truly help Elena how she needs it.
His cock is rather hard, having been hard from the moment he woke up. Frankly, he could have jerked himself off and been fine with it. But he figured he might get Elena to fuck him again, so he held out. And he’s rather glad he did, now that he knows how much it helps her. A lot of guys talk about wanting a woman addicted to their cum, but actually having a cum addicted woman? A totally different thing, completely novel to him. He’s fine with it, though. So long as he can make her better along the way.
Elena immediately knows what to do. Her hands, still warm from her delicious mug of coffee, wrap around his cock tenderly. Those big brown eyes stare up at him, the hum of the audio and the whir of the milking machine echoing in her ears. It feels so good, to be able to have her breasts milked, with a fresh dose of cum right in her face. All she has to do is work for it.
Her tongue comes out, gently lapping at the head of his cock. Trevor lets out a small groan, his toes curling a bit. It’s been a long time since he had sex before last night, but even longer since he got his cock sucked. And, gotten it sucked properly? Probably never.
“That’s it, good girl…” he muses down at her as Elena parts her lips and suckles the head of his cock right into her mouth. Those toes curl a bit harder against the carpeted floor, his head lazily tossing back, eyes lidding to allow him to fully enjoy all the sensations.
Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, or so Elena thinks. Maybe she even thought this before she became a sex slave. It’s hard to tell. Her mouth wraps tightly around his cock, her tongue lapping at the head as she starts to bob. Back and forth, taking down inch after inch of his cock. Pulling back to repeat the process, being steady with grinding her tongue against the underside of his shaft as she goes down further.
Groaning into the air, one of his hands moves to the back of her head, not pushing or pulling her movements, but resting there. Letting Elena know she’s doing an amazing job.
Elena swears she can smell his cum, the eagerness getting more intense in her stomach as she swallows down his precum. Just a taste of what she’s about to get. Bobbing her head back and forth, grinding her tongue against it, keeping her cheeks hollow, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Trevor speaks over the hum from the television and whir of the milking machine.
Somehow, Elena knows that already. But it doesn’t go to her head. Rather, she shifts her movements to start putting pressure on the entrance to her throat. Feeling her movements change, Trevor groans at the feeling of his head sinking in and out of that entrance. It absolutely amazing, his whole body starting to tense up as a knot forms in his stomach.
“Gonna make me cum, sweetheart, my darling Elena,” he warns her, before his palm goes flat on the back of her head, pushing her down in desperation. Trevor begins to buck his hips, sinking his cock into her throat until his balls slap against her chin.
Groaning, panting, all Trevor can do is thrust. Thrust his cock past the entrance of her throat, fuck her mouth while she wildly grinds her tongue against it. Looking down, he can so those big brown eyes are watering, and he fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck…” he moans out, his hand making a fist around her ponytail as he feels the knot in his stomach unraveling, feels his balls lurching upward, and the first hot rope of many shooting out and right into her stomach.
Elena moans loudly, as Trevor stops thrusting, she slams his cock as deep into her throat as she can get it, burying her nose in his pubic hair. She shakes her head, growling as she feels his hot, sticky seed shooting into her stomach. Elena’s throat muscles clench to swallow it down rapidly and keep from choking. Immediately, between the feeling of getting the milk out of her breasts and the cum being shot almost directly into her digestive track, she starts to feel much better.
The humming noises from the hypnosis track start to ring in her ears a bit heavier. Who is she? Where is she from? What was she trying to do when she got captured?
Shit.
As Trevor pulls his spent cock out of her mouth, Elena’s eyes flutter a good bit. She knows something, there’s something teetering on the edge of her brain and…
Her name is Miyuki. Miyuki Nakamura. She’s thirty one years old, and used to live in Seattle. Before she was taken as a sex slave, she had been investigating the people that took her. Miyuki used to work for the CIA, investigating heinous sex crimes, cyber crimes, and the worst of the worst society had to offer.
And she had been quite good at her job, on top of being a total bombshell when it came to her looks, she had been quite lethal. And effective in every job she had been given. Miyuki Nakamura never failed a mission.
Until she was taken captive.
And, even now, failure is no longer an option. Not just for her own revenge, but because she remembers how many other women are currently suffering. A lot of crucial information is coming back to her, information that even the FBI wouldn’t have just yet. Everything is flooding back to her mind and she thought it would have been more overwhelming than it actually is. Elena is processing it all properly, and she really needs to thank Trevor for that. There is so much she needs to thank him for…
Looking down at Elena, he sees a lot of flashes behind her eyes. Pulling his pants up, he stays hunched over to watch her and make sure she’s okay. It’s a little concerning, for a few moments Trevor worries that he may have overwhelmed her. Which isn’t what he wants. At all. “Wait right here,” he says as if the woman has the ability to leave this room.
He strides to his front door, yanking it open and approaching his mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a package in there and he snags it before dashing back inside and locking his front door properly. Something is happening to Elena, and he wants to make sure to keep her safe during it. The medication should, hopefully, help with that.
Carefully, he tears into the package and opens up the pill bottle. It’s Ativan, from what he can tell, and he’s heard it’s better than Xanax, so that’s a plus for sure. With a sigh, he gently places a pill on her tongue and returns her coffee cup to her hands. Elena manages to swallow the pill down without too much issue.
“Okay… you’re alright, yeah? Could be worse.” Trevor nods a bit as he retakes his seat next to her on the couch. Her face looks rather animated, like she’s actually thinking, feeling emotions, other than the pain of her intense brainwashing. It must have been so painful to go through, to have your mind so warped… shit, he can’t stop feeling awful for her. “I’m here for you, Elena.”
“My name is Miyuki Nakamura.”
Trevor blinks. Oh, shit, she just remembered her name. That’s fucking huge, and it brings yet another smile to his face. “Hi, Miyuki… not a bad name…”
“And I know who took me… I know who I am… I need your help. Please, please help me.”
Had she been asking for more intense help this whole time? Deeper than being milked and fed cum? Perhaps, but Trevor would rather not think about it. He made a promise to this woman, he swore he’d help her. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do. There’s no other option. Elena, err, Miyuki needs his assistance with something. That’s all he needs to hear. “Anything, anything at all.”
It’s just after midnight. Three days have passed since Miyuki Nakamura awoke from her brainwashing and conditioning. Things are different now. She’d told Trevor everything. That she used to work for the CIA, that she knew who took her, and that she can lead the SWAT team right to them.
She’d picked out her outfit. A black, shiny catsuit that hugs her insanely curvy body, and a pair of high heels that click and clack on the ground whenever she walks. She’d kept her hair in a ponytail, though. As Trevor was really onto something with that look being wonderful on her, as well as efficient.
It’s time for her revenge.
Miyuki led the swat team to a seemingly abandoned building just outside of Seattle, where she was originally from. However, she knows very well that this place is not abandoned. This place is hiding infinite secrets and she’s eager to shut it all down.
The sounds of her heels clicking on the floor echo in the building. Miyuki approaches a door on the main level, and moves a wooden panel to expose a keypad. She enters the pin.
8 9 2 4 9 0 2 8 9…
How could she ever forget that code? It’s embedded in her mind so heavily… she’ll never forget it. Nor will she forget the grin on her face when the door opened up, and the elevator chimed, and Miyuki Nakamura herself got to send in the SWAT team to go down and take them all out.
The SWAT raid resulted in three hundred arrests nationwide, and the liberation of thousands of sex slaves. During all of the chaos, however, Miyuki explained to Trevor that she had no family. No one, no children, no husband, her parents are dead and buried in Japan… she’s been a loner for quite some time, completely alone in the world and with no one to look out for her.
“The last time I’ve felt safe, truly safe,” Miyuki said as she and Trevor sit on his couch, where it all truly began for them, watching the news about the liberated women, all thanks to them both. “Was when you fucked me, when you had me tied down and you made me see stars.”
Shifting in his seat, he tries to hide his grin, focusing on the television. “I’m fond of you, too, Miyuki.”
“I’d like to remain your Elena, if you’re willing, I’d love to… be yours. And stay with you. Unless you would find it terrible and awkward.” Miyuki can’t help but giggle.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gives her a good squeeze. “You want to stay with me and get dominated every night, is that it?”
Leaning against him, she can’t help but exhale. “Yes. Please?”
“You don’t have to beg… not right now, at least. Unless…”
Miyuki places a hand on his chest, licking at her lips as she speaks. “Please, please help me.”
Trevor never anticipated his life would go this route.
Had you told him a week ago he’d be part of the SWAT team that liberated sex slaves from a local warehouse, he would have insisted that nothing like that would happen in his small town. That his position on the SWAT team is mostly through nepotism, and that he himself could never possibly do something so great for victims of a serious crime.
Trevor was wrong. Hilariously and humiliatingly so.
While he was called to a raid of a warehouse, he thought it would turn up absolutely nothing. But alas, the national media has been going insane with the findings. And in a lot of ways, he’s been promoted. Sort of.
The girl that he carried out of the warehouse, she seemed to cling to him. Refusing to speak to anyone but him, Which, he sort of took as a compliment. He never thought of himself as much, but he did something right. All he did was pick up the first woman he saw on the ground. He used his lock buster to get the chains off of her, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and then carried her to safety.
They still have no idea on who she is. Or any of the girls, minus three who were identified a few days ago. They’re the lucky ones, so people say. Yet the reality is that their families will not know what to do with them. Unfortunately, these women are a bit on the tainted side.
They’ve all been brainwashed into sex slavery.
A very complex type of brainwashing occurred. Not many people have any idea of how to combat it. The guys at the FBI are still working on it. But for Trevor, it’s all feeling a bit archaic. He was tasked with keeping the woman that attached herself to him. Because, what else were they supposed to do with the ones that attached themselves to the men who rescued them? Exactly. No one knew what to do, so those like Trevor got tasked with taking care of theirs.
Which is fine. He’d wanted to get, like, a Shih Tzu or a cat or something. Maybe some fish. The pay for this is good, at least. And all he has to do is stay home and protect her. Try to ease her mind into understanding she’s more than just a piece of meat.
The woman is rather gorgeous. Long black hair that Trevor brushes out and puts in a high ponytail, so that it gets dirty at a much slower rate. Porcelain skin with very few flaws or markings, given what the lady went through, he finds that rather surprising. Her eyes are a dark brown., when the light hits them properly, they look like delicate pools of honey.
However, he hasn’t get figured out how to get her to say her name. All she’s said thus far has been various things regarding pleasing him sexually. Which, for good reason, he’s turned down. There are lines someone shouldn’t cross, and Trevor is pretty sure taking advantage of a sex slave is one of those lines. Sure, he laughs at things he shouldn’t on the internet, but he’d still like to cross the pearly gates and dap Saint Peter up.
She’s Asian, she has huge natural breasts, and she’s lactating rather heavily. Other than that, and where he rescued her from, Trevor knows absolutely nothing else about her.
Every day, he gets new information on how to help her. He can submit concerns and inquiries to the FBI agents managing the case, and they’ve been fairly good about responding to him. However, today, he got a response he was not expecting.
In order to assist her with the issue of breast heaviness and prevent mastitis, we recommend milking her with either your hands or a breast pump. Or perhaps both, if she will allow you to touch her in such a way. Do let us know how this goes as it may assist the other women with lactation issues.
Well, shit.
He’s been calling her Elena. Not for any particular reason, it was just the first thing that came to mind when he realized he couldn’t keep calling her ‘woman’ or ‘ma’am’. It felt rude to him, since she’s living in his apartment now. Trevor rarely leaves her alone, so like everyone else in 2024, he ordered a breast pump from Amazon. He never thought he’d have videos on how to use such a thing in his YouTube history, yet, here he is, watching a video on how to properly use a breast pump.
The money’s worth it.
He keeps telling himself that.
Lately, though, her passes at him have gotten even more brazen. Elena began trying to take off his belt, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Wouldn’t taking advantage of her mental state be wrong? He doesn’t know what to do. As badly as he wants to keep his soul intact, he’s only human, he’s going to break down at some point. And he knows it.
Due to her tender condition, most of the time she spends is tied up. Trevor purchased a set of leather bondage restraints, they’re quite fancy. But this wasn’t really the use he had intended for them. It just sort of worked out that way.
With a tired look on his face, he walks into what used to be his guest bedroom. There Elena is, laying on her back on the bed in a pink night gown. The black restraints around her wrists and ankles are a stark contrast to her milky, porcelain skin.
“Please, please help me…”
It’s a common sentence from her. Trevor didn’t know exactly what she meant by that until he figured out she was begging for a milking. Apparently it can be quite painful for a woman’s breasts to get so full. If he had known that sooner, well, he could have helped her sooner. But, thankfully, no one expects him to be perfect in his care for her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he says softly, nodding his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Elena wiggles a little bit, but doesn’t fight her constraints. She hasn’t really fought him on much of anything since he had her. Aside from her sexual advances at him. Yet, looking at her now in those restraints, and how much heavier her bust has gotten, Trevor wonders briefly if his resolves will truly prevail.
“Alright,” Trevor moves forward, taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s warm, that’s his first thought as he feels her thigh against his lower back. Her skin’s so soft, and she’s just… gorgeous. So unbelievably gorgeous and alluring.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, she speaks again.
“Please, please, please help me.”
Holding onto the milking machine in his hand, he grabs one of the pumps and turns himself around, getting onto the bed on his knees.
Looking over her breasts, he finds them without flaw. Her nipples look painfully hard, leaking a little bit in a last ditch effort to get some relief. He really feels awful he didn’t figure this out sooner, or ask about it. Holding onto the pump, he gently presses it to her right nipple. Elena wiggles a little, but seems to let out a deep sigh as she knows what is about to come for her.
Relief. Sweet, sweet breast relief.
Trevor flips the switch on the first pump, and Elena lets out a rather satisfied groan. Applying the second pump to her left breast, she makes the same noise. He watches rather eagerly as her nipples get suckled into the machine, and an off-white liquid seems to start filling up the little bottles attached.
It’s actually pretty hot.
Swallowing a little, he steps off of the bed and simply watches her. As the milking machine takes care of her breasts, suckling her nipples and releasing the sweet milk that had been building up in her for days. His eyes watch as she gets her relief, and he begins to feel something stirring in his pants.
Shit, he’s getting hard! Watching her grind her thighs together for friction, watching her wrists and ankles grind against the restraints, the look of pure contentment on her face. Trevor doesn’t know what to do.
But, what if, crossing that line could help Elena? If this is her normal, what she’s been brainwashed into, and if it’s her normal, what if that means he can replicate those steps to undo the brainwashing? Or… is that all just a thought to justify why he’s unbuckling his belt? Something to make him feel less bad about removing his shirt and stepping out of his pants. Significantly less guilt about hooking his thumbs in his boxers and yanking them down as he steps towards the bed.
His long cock is getting significantly harder the more he watches. Elena seems to be none the wiser at the moment as she continues to writhe and moan in relief. Maybe he had been apprehensive about this at first, but now it makes sense in his mind.
To undo the damage, he has to do the things that were done to Elena, but in a non-damaging way.
Sometimes he can be so stupid. The answer was right in front of him the whole time.
As he crawls onto the bed, Elena opens her eyes. When she sees a man crawling on top of her, she stops grinding her thighs together, instead spreading her legs and relaxing the bondage restraints on her ankles significantly. Her deep brown eyes stare up into his greens, and the moans of relief turn into ones of need.
While she doesn’t talk much outside of expressing her need of help with being milked, Elena keeps staring up at Trevor as he gets on his knees between her legs. His eyes flick from her gorgeous breasts being milked by the machine, and down to her cunt. It’s wet. Wetter than he’s ever seen a woman be. Lifting his hand, he has to touch it, reaching his hand down between her legs and gently feeling how soaked she is. He shivers at the feeling. Elena’s cunt is hot, it’s wet, and that delicate hole feels so tight despite all she had gone through.
Elena whimpers a little as Trevor moves his fingers up and down her cunt. Naturally, she’s ready to take a rather good pounding. As the machine continues to drain her breasts, she becomes aware of the other thing in the room that needs to be drained. Trevor’s balls.
How long has it been since he got laid? Far too long. His cock is now completely hard, a drip of precum leaks from his tip, his head flared and angry. Removing his fingers from the stroking motions of Elena’s sopping cunt, he uses her sweet slick to stroke his cock. Getting it nice and wet as he angles his needy head against her entrance.
Elena bites her lip a little bit, lifting her head up to look down. Just in time to watch that hard, thick prick sinking right into her hole. She whimpers again before letting out a low moan. “Yes…” she whispers the word, licking at her lips as she watches on. More and more of his cock slipping inside of her.
Trevor grabs onto the sheets for dear life, his head hanging low as he pants through his breaths. She’s so tight! It’s like trying to fuck a wet fist, or tucking a hallway into a hot dog.
He keeps moving, shifting his hips and pushing his entire cock inside of her. Not stopping until he can feel the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. If only he could go further… but she’s such a good fit, he’s so deep inside of her, he can feel her walls throbbing around his prick.
There was never a chance he was going to last very long, not his first time being with her. Pulling his hips back, he starts to give her sharp, deep thrusts. Pulling out of her completely feels impossible. He’s panting and groaning, jutting his cock into her over and over again, spearing his cock, prying her walls apart.
“Ah! Yes!” Elena cries out more, her wrists pulling on the restraints as her body starts to twitch and convulse a bit. Trevor can’t take it, he needs to feel those amazing, immaculate, delicious breasts for himself. Quickly, he yanks the pump off of her, letting it clatter to the floor. Her hefty bust is still leaking milk, but he doesn’t care.
Grabbing onto both of her tits, Trevor squeezes them hard, feeling an ooze of liquid against his hands. Fuck! It feels so good, sinking his cock in and out of her so deeply, battering at her cervix as her tit flesh bubbles around his fingers. Elena’s delicious milk leaks out against his hands, making a rather big wet mess underneath of her on the sheets. Fuck it, he can clean it up later.
Elena keeps looking up at Trevor as if he’s a saint. His cock feels so good hammering in and out of her pussy, his balls smacking against her ass. It’s all so familiar to her, yet it feels so much different than the other guys.
That’s when it hits her.
She’s not in the warehouse anymore!
When she blinks, it suddenly looks like there might be someone home in her head after all this time. Trevor lets out a gasp as he sees this, some guilt setting into the pit of his stomach, but it’s impossible for him to stop throttling his cock in and out of her snatch.
“A-Are you okay?!” He asks, but still can’t stop, rocking the bed with his thrusts. Making her breasts shake in his powerful grasp.
“Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!” Elena nods, unable to really say another word other than the affirmative.
“Okay… okay, good!”
Trevor still can’t stop. The way her pussy is starting to tighten up, he can bet she’s about to cum. A blush forms on her body and he can tell she’s heating up. He keeps his grip on her breasts tight, using her restrained body as leverage to fuck her with everything he has. Slapping his balls against her ass in stinging plaps, letting her juices coat his entire sex and dribble out onto the bed. Fuck it all, he’ll clean up after her during her next bath… which is probably going to be tonight, considering how much she’s sweating. It’s all his fault.
Elena writhes and gasps underneath of Trevor, her eyes closing tight and her whole body shaking as her cunt starts to throb more intensely against his cock. As if trying to suckle the cum from straight from his balls.
She really was trained wonderfully… but he shouldn’t be thinking like that! He does want to help her, it’s just hard to focus on helping her when his cock is being drained dry.
It only takes mere seconds more of slamming his cock in and out of her pussy before Trevor erupts inside of her. He hilts himself, grinding his balls against her ass as he tosses his head back and groans loudly. Spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum floods Elena’s throbbing canal. Painting her insides white as his sweat drips from his brow onto her, and the bed.
Huffing, panting, he releases his firm grip on her breasts, only to find they’re still leaking quite heavily. “Ah, shit, lemme…”
With a great air of reluctance, Trevor pulls himself out of Elena’s messy pussy, a trail of his cum following his cock out. Stumbling off of the bed a bit, he grabs the machine, standing on his shaky legs and leaning over her.
“Yes, please, help me.” Elena says, though her gaze is a bit more tired now. And once again, it looks like she’s not all there in the head. Shit, he hates seeing that look returning. But he’ll figure something out. He always does.
Placing the milking machine back onto each of her reddened breasts, he lets out a little laugh. “We’ll work on that some more later. Get some rest. I’m gonna get a shower…”
Trevor enjoyed his shower, but his mind was in a flurry of different thoughts. He’d been fucking Elena, and it looked like she had a spark when it happened. Was it possible he was right? Could having sex with her, could milking her, keeping her comfortable be the key to freeing her mind of her severe brainwashing?
It almost makes sense. To wake her up from her nightmare, he needs to be good to her. Different than her captors. He needs to prove he’s better than all of this shit she went through in the warehouse. So that she can be reunited with her family.
That’s always the end goal, right?
What if he doesn’t want her to go away? No, it’s for the best. Truthfully, he can’t babysit her forever. And it’s very likely she won’t want to stick around once she remembers everything. She’s somebody’s daughter, someone’s sister, perhaps even someone’s mother. People are looking for her, maybe in another country. More than likely, once she remembers who she is, he’s not gonna see his Elena again.
While it hurts, he knows that’s how it has to be. His job right now is to help her in every way he can.
After getting himself dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts, Trevor went back to check on Elena. Knowing full well she herself needs a good bath. He found the bottles on the milking machine were almost overwhelmed with how much they got. So he took them to the kitchen, dumping them out and giving them a good wash.
Once he got the milking machine back into one piece, he placed it on the sink in the guest en suite. Approaching Elena, she looks a good bit tired. As she should be. He put in a lot of work fucking her guts out, even if it was a bit short lived. No matter, he has a feeling he’ll be doing that again.
Getting the restraints off of her is easy. She doesn’t recoil or fight or try to run away. Doesn’t fight him off or make a run for it. It makes him smile a good bit, it’s a nice feeling to know she trusts him so much. Picking her up bridal style, Trevor is very careful carrying her to the en suite. Squatting down, he places her gently in the warm, bubbly water. He can swear he sees a smile on her face.
Elena has always liked bath time, in the few days he’s had her. She’s capable of sitting up on her own and assisting with her own washing, thankfully, so there isn’t a lot he really has to do for her. But he wants to. He wants to help wash her and talk to her and try to bring her out of her own mind.
Suddenly, his phone vibrates on the sink next to the milking machine.
“Shit, don’t go anywhere,” he says with a little smirk as he stands up and walks to the sink. Elena seems to be watching him with her big brown eyes. There’s something about him that makes her truly comfortable, she really can’t deny it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know why. It’s becoming obvious to her that there’s something trying to claw out of her. Out of her mind, her throat, through her tongue.
Elena, the real Elena, the one before she became a sex slave, desperately wants to be freed. Not that she could ever communicate that to him, or to anyone else, really.
So what can she do besides enjoy her time in the bath?
Checking his phone, he finds an email from one of the FBI agents. What;s inside is rather intriguing.
Research has found these women were brainwashed through hypnotic videos and subliminal messaging. We’ve known this since before the warehouse was discovered, and thankfully we’ve finished a beta version of a hypnotic video and audio segment that may assist in undoing some of the damage. We will have different versions available and emailed to you keeps directly. Keep us updated on any results.
Well, that’s unexpected.
He downloads the video, figuring he’ll play it for her while he bathes her and gives her another round on the milking machine. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it’ll help bring the real Elena out. Getting a glimpse of her earlier, it was actually something gorgeous. Even if he might lose her eventually, he wants to help her as best he can.
Trevor hangs his phone on the faucet using his Popsocket, taking a few moments to load up the video and press play. His hand reaches for Elena’s head, gently turning her focus away from him and onto the phone across from her.
The video contains a lot of spiraling white lines on a black background. If he looks at it for too long, it hurts his eyes pretty severely. So he sits on his knees by the bathtub, flipping the switches on her milking machine and properly attaching the pumps once more. Making sure they’re on tight, he feels his cock twitching again as her nipples get suckled and her sweet cream begins to fill up the bottles.
Various words flash across the screen, so fast no one would really catch onto them unless they expected them to be there. As the spiral goes around and around in circles, Elena’s sole focus becomes staring at the video. For the first time, she’s useless during her bath. But somehow, Trevor expected that. If the videos are gonna work, she has to have her entire focus on them.
REMEMBER.
BREATHE.
UNLOCK YOUR MIND.
OPEN YOUR MIND.
RELAX YOUR BODY
INHALE.
WHO ARE YOU?
EXHALE.
The swirls reflect in Elena’s eyes as she stares. What is she supposed to remember? How does she unlock her mind? Who is she? As she watches, she realizes she’s being milked. And it feels so good, it’s such a relieving feeling. Hopefully she’ll be empty soon.
While she watches the video, Trevor goes about washing her body. He cleans under her breasts, scrubs her back, releases her ponytail and makes sure he washes her hair very well. Letting her get and stay dirty wouldn’t be good for her, especially considering the filthy conditions they found her in.
Next, he washes her cunt. Gently rubbing it and getting it clean, making sure his cum gets washed away properly. Every few moments, he gives her face a glance. She’s staring so intently at the video, barely blinking.
It’s kind of creepy.
But it becomes less creepy when he remembers this is something that’s going to help her. As he washes and rinses her, he continues to check on various things. Mostly her, making sure she’s okay, watching her face to make sure she’s still awake. Making sure Elena is still breathing, and glimpsing at the video.
It’s rather disorienting, hurts his eyes, so he doesn’t look at it very often or for long. Once she’s fully rinsed off, he turns the video off and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He’s realizing something, she hasn’t made a sexual advance at him the entire time he’d been washing her down!
“Hey! I guess we’re making progress after all, huh?” Trevor knows she can’t answer him. But he does like to talk to her when he does things to or for her. “Alright, let’s empty these bottles…” unlatching the bottles from the pump, he dumps them into the soapy water before dunking them underneath and gently washing them. He turns the faucet on to rinse them out properly, not sure about the proper care for such items, but, he’s doing his damned best at this job.
Yanking on the drain plug, he stands up to grab a towel, turning around and drying Elena’s hair, then her body as the water goes down lower and lower. He really cares for her, taking his time to make sure every possible inch of her body are properly dried out. Part of him seems to thrive in this caregiver role, though he never truly imagined himself in it.
Finally, to end the day, Trevor places her in a chair in the guest room while he replaces her messy sheets and blankets. It only takes a few minutes, but in that time, Trevor’s already received another email.
“Oh come on!” he cries out, wondering what new ‘research’ could exist in the hour he had her naked and soaped up. Taking a small break from replacing the sheets, Trevor opens up his phone to read this email.
Attached is a special set of hypnosis-reversing audio. Play one while she sleeps, play one when she wakes up, and play another whenever you must leave her completely alone in the home. They are labeled accordingly.
Okay, fine, but he still thinks that could have been put in the first email. He’s glad they have more things to help these girls, to help his Elena, but come on! Oh well. “Simple enough. Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Trevor gently lifts Elena bridal style once more and lays her on her back in her bed. One by one, he carefully places those nice leather restraints back onto her limbs. “Goodnight… Elena.”
“… Goodnight, Trevor.”
Trevor feels his eyes go rather wide. Did she..? “… you know my name?!” Progress! Progress is progress! And this, admittedly, is pretty damn good progress. The smile on his face widens as he moves to cover her up with the fresh blanket. “Yeah! Yeah, my name’s Trevor. I carried you out of that warehouse… you never wanted to leave my side. It took a lot to get you to sleep by yourself. A lot of screaming, a lot of crying, you know.”
But when he looks at Elena again, her eyes are blanked out like someone high on painkillers, and she doesn’t really response. Opening her mouth, as if waiting to take his cock into her mouth. He lets out a small sigh, reaching down to gently pat the back of her head, moving her ponytail a little bit. At least she’s doing a bit better now. With a sigh, he takes his phone out once more and starts streaming the sleep audio to the Bluetooth speaker in the guest room.
Hopefully, it does something.
Morning breaks and Trevor opens his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off on his phone. It had been a rather quiet night, one that had him sleep completely through it due to getting to blow a load in his Elena. He remembers it so vividly, he doubts he’ll ever forget it. Hopefully he gets to do it again. But, of course, he won’t force her.
If Elena gets all of her memories back, and doesn’t want to fuck him anymore, Trevor will be okay with that. He’s not a monster. The monsters are who he rescued her from, after all.
Their morning routine carries on as normal. He puts her in a new dress, but notices she’s being more helpful than usual. Actually putting her arms in the dress and smiling at him. Though she didn’t speak again, not her usual sentences or his name or telling him good morning like she said goodnight. Yet he notices those glimpses in her eyes, tiny little beacons of hope that tells Trevor someone is indeed inside of her head.
Hopefully one day, he gets to know her properly.
Elena had breakfast, and then Trevor decided to settle her on the couch. In her little pink dress, she looks rather cute. He can’t help but smile at her as much as possible. “Alright, we’re going to try that video again, on the big television…” once more, he knows she can’t or won’t respond to what he says, but he says it anyway. Humanizing her at every chance he gets. It makes him feel better about the entire situation.
Elena, however, gives a soft nod and a smile. It takes him back a little bit, but he returns the smile as he starts casting the video to his living room television. Just like last night, he can’t really look at the screen for too long. It hurts his head, his brain, too. Because he knows who he is. He knows to breathe.
The audio in the video, he’s realizing, is a low hum. It’s not too different from the warbled humming hypnosis audio he’d put on for her last night. Assuming he’d missed the sounds of the video the previous night because of the sounds of water and being so preoccupied with Elena’s washing and care, he’d tuned it out. It almost makes him feel weird to be hearing such noises.
But, he ignores his own discomfort, for her sake.
Nothing is about him right now, after all. It’s all about making her feel better. Getting her to remember. Blah, blah… blah.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee, Elena.” Trevor’s still trying to humanize her. The FBI agents haven’t said it helps, but it helps him feel better.
“I’ll have mine black.”
As he’s walking into his kitchen, he turns on his heel. She spoke?! Elena wants coffee?! Okay, maybe this video, those audios, are doing exactly what they thought. “Absolutely! One black coffee for you, one black coffee…”
While he walks into the kitchen with that smile plastered on his face, he repeats her words in his mind. Elena does have a gorgeous voice. Cackling a little as he sets the coffee pot to brew something strong, his phone once again vibrates and chimes with an email alert. This time, it’s not annoying. So long as he doesn’t get another one an hour later, with the same fucking information that could have been included in the first fucking one. Fuck.
We’ve discovered the women have been hypnotized in a manner that makes them addicted to semen. While this may seem unethical to most, we’re suggesting that if you are comfortable accepting sexual advances from the woman in your care, please do accept them. It will not harm them in any way, and in exposing them to semen in this safe environment, the symptoms of withdrawal in all aspects will fade alongside the reversal audios and videos. No adverse effects have been reported from this method of treatment. Benzodiazepines have been dropped off in your mailboxes to be administered after these events of sexual contact with the woman in your care, just to be on the safe side regarding adverse reactions.
Extremely unexpected, well, that would be an understatement. Cum addiction?! It explains a lot, actually. Elena had told him goodnight for the first time shortly after he came inside of her. His best assumption is any hole receiving cum has that effect on her. And to think, he had been apprehensive about taking her up on her passes at him. It could have been a way for him to help her this whole time!
“Well, today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” Trevor laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket as the coffee machine beeps. He takes his time to pour them both a good mug, making sure to keep hers black, loading his own down with lots of sugar and creamer.
Walking back into his living room, he happily passes off the mug to Elena. Her hands are a little shaky, but she manages to take it and take a nice, long gulp. It makes Trevor smile yet again as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. And just watches, since he can’t look at the television, watches the gorgeous woman as she drinks down her coffee.
“Glad to hear that you… you know, can say more than you used to. It’s quite nice, you do have a lovely voice.”
Elena doesn’t talk back to him, she simply sits there drinking her coffee.
“Do you like the name I gave you? Elena? I got it from a book I read when I was a kid. Can’t remember the name of it. But I always liked the name,” he muses a little bit as he takes a few drinks of his own coffee. “Rolls off of the tongue pretty well.”
Of course, she doesn’t say anything. Her deep brown eyes are focused on the television as she looks over her mug, seemingly inhaling the aroma in a rather needy fashion in between sips and drinks. Trevor wonders what she’s thinking about, if she’s thinking anything at all. Every few moments he gets those glimpses again, glimpses of someone being behind those glassed over eyes.
“Yeah, I used to read a lot…” he says while still watching her.
Finally, her lips part and her tongue flecks out. She’s gonna speak! Trevor’s on the edge of his seat, wondering what she might say to him. Something worthwhile. Something… impactful, a glimpse into who she really is. Something to help the agents find her family, perhaps?
“Please, please help me.”
Nope.
“Of course, I’ll always help you. That’s what I’m here for…” However, Trevor has another idea. Approaching Elena, he takes her coffee mug and places it with his on the coffee table. Sighing lowly, he gently eases the straps of her dress down. Out pops her gorgeous breasts, which aren’t quite leaking just yet. He can tell they’re engorged, though, and that she needs some more relief.
Taking the milking machine off of the coffee table, he’s once more rather gentle with applying it to her nipples. Turning it on, and letting the gentle suction start releasing the creamy fluid from her breasts.
“Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me yet, I got something else for you.”
Trevor figures the sounds from the video are a bit more important than the visual elements, considering the other clips he’d received. Still standing in front of her, his thumbs hook into his shorts and he pulls them down to his ankles. She has an addiction to cum, so she may have been asking for help in two different ways this whole time. Now he understands it, and he can truly help Elena how she needs it.
His cock is rather hard, having been hard from the moment he woke up. Frankly, he could have jerked himself off and been fine with it. But he figured he might get Elena to fuck him again, so he held out. And he’s rather glad he did, now that he knows how much it helps her. A lot of guys talk about wanting a woman addicted to their cum, but actually having a cum addicted woman? A totally different thing, completely novel to him. He’s fine with it, though. So long as he can make her better along the way.
Elena immediately knows what to do. Her hands, still warm from her delicious mug of coffee, wrap around his cock tenderly. Those big brown eyes stare up at him, the hum of the audio and the whir of the milking machine echoing in her ears. It feels so good, to be able to have her breasts milked, with a fresh dose of cum right in her face. All she has to do is work for it.
Her tongue comes out, gently lapping at the head of his cock. Trevor lets out a small groan, his toes curling a bit. It’s been a long time since he had sex before last night, but even longer since he got his cock sucked. And, gotten it sucked properly? Probably never.
“That’s it, good girl…” he muses down at her as Elena parts her lips and suckles the head of his cock right into her mouth. Those toes curl a bit harder against the carpeted floor, his head lazily tossing back, eyes lidding to allow him to fully enjoy all the sensations.
Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, or so Elena thinks. Maybe she even thought this before she became a sex slave. It’s hard to tell. Her mouth wraps tightly around his cock, her tongue lapping at the head as she starts to bob. Back and forth, taking down inch after inch of his cock. Pulling back to repeat the process, being steady with grinding her tongue against the underside of his shaft as she goes down further.
Groaning into the air, one of his hands moves to the back of her head, not pushing or pulling her movements, but resting there. Letting Elena know she’s doing an amazing job.
Elena swears she can smell his cum, the eagerness getting more intense in her stomach as she swallows down his precum. Just a taste of what she’s about to get. Bobbing her head back and forth, grinding her tongue against it, keeping her cheeks hollow, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Trevor speaks over the hum from the television and whir of the milking machine.
Somehow, Elena knows that already. But it doesn’t go to her head. Rather, she shifts her movements to start putting pressure on the entrance to her throat. Feeling her movements change, Trevor groans at the feeling of his head sinking in and out of that entrance. It absolutely amazing, his whole body starting to tense up as a knot forms in his stomach.
“Gonna make me cum, sweetheart, my darling Elena,” he warns her, before his palm goes flat on the back of her head, pushing her down in desperation. Trevor begins to buck his hips, sinking his cock into her throat until his balls slap against her chin.
Groaning, panting, all Trevor can do is thrust. Thrust his cock past the entrance of her throat, fuck her mouth while she wildly grinds her tongue against it. Looking down, he can so those big brown eyes are watering, and he fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck…” he moans out, his hand making a fist around her ponytail as he feels the knot in his stomach unraveling, feels his balls lurching upward, and the first hot rope of many shooting out and right into her stomach.
Elena moans loudly, as Trevor stops thrusting, she slams his cock as deep into her throat as she can get it, burying her nose in his pubic hair. She shakes her head, growling as she feels his hot, sticky seed shooting into her stomach. Elena’s throat muscles clench to swallow it down rapidly and keep from choking. Immediately, between the feeling of getting the milk out of her breasts and the cum being shot almost directly into her digestive track, she starts to feel much better.
The humming noises from the hypnosis track start to ring in her ears a bit heavier. Who is she? Where is she from? What was she trying to do when she got captured?
Shit.
As Trevor pulls his spent cock out of her mouth, Elena’s eyes flutter a good bit. She knows something, there’s something teetering on the edge of her brain and…
Her name is Miyuki. Miyuki Nakamura. She’s thirty one years old, and used to live in Seattle. Before she was taken as a sex slave, she had been investigating the people that took her. Miyuki used to work for the CIA, investigating heinous sex crimes, cyber crimes, and the worst of the worst society had to offer.
And she had been quite good at her job, on top of being a total bombshell when it came to her looks, she had been quite lethal. And effective in every job she had been given. Miyuki Nakamura never failed a mission.
Until she was taken captive.
And, even now, failure is no longer an option. Not just for her own revenge, but because she remembers how many other women are currently suffering. A lot of crucial information is coming back to her, information that even the FBI wouldn’t have just yet. Everything is flooding back to her mind and she thought it would have been more overwhelming than it actually is. Elena is processing it all properly, and she really needs to thank Trevor for that. There is so much she needs to thank him for…
Looking down at Elena, he sees a lot of flashes behind her eyes. Pulling his pants up, he stays hunched over to watch her and make sure she’s okay. It’s a little concerning, for a few moments Trevor worries that he may have overwhelmed her. Which isn’t what he wants. At all. “Wait right here,” he says as if the woman has the ability to leave this room.
He strides to his front door, yanking it open and approaching his mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a package in there and he snags it before dashing back inside and locking his front door properly. Something is happening to Elena, and he wants to make sure to keep her safe during it. The medication should, hopefully, help with that.
Carefully, he tears into the package and opens up the pill bottle. It’s Ativan, from what he can tell, and he’s heard it’s better than Xanax, so that’s a plus for sure. With a sigh, he gently places a pill on her tongue and returns her coffee cup to her hands. Elena manages to swallow the pill down without too much issue.
“Okay… you’re alright, yeah? Could be worse.” Trevor nods a bit as he retakes his seat next to her on the couch. Her face looks rather animated, like she’s actually thinking, feeling emotions, other than the pain of her intense brainwashing. It must have been so painful to go through, to have your mind so warped… shit, he can’t stop feeling awful for her. “I’m here for you, Elena.”
“My name is Miyuki Nakamura.”
Trevor blinks. Oh, shit, she just remembered her name. That’s fucking huge, and it brings yet another smile to his face. “Hi, Miyuki… not a bad name…”
“And I know who took me… I know who I am… I need your help. Please, please help me.”
Had she been asking for more intense help this whole time? Deeper than being milked and fed cum? Perhaps, but Trevor would rather not think about it. He made a promise to this woman, he swore he’d help her. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do. There’s no other option. Elena, err, Miyuki needs his assistance with something. That’s all he needs to hear. “Anything, anything at all.”
It’s just after midnight. Three days have passed since Miyuki Nakamura awoke from her brainwashing and conditioning. Things are different now. She’d told Trevor everything. That she used to work for the CIA, that she knew who took her, and that she can lead the SWAT team right to them.
She’d picked out her outfit. A black, shiny catsuit that hugs her insanely curvy body, and a pair of high heels that click and clack on the ground whenever she walks. She’d kept her hair in a ponytail, though. As Trevor was really onto something with that look being wonderful on her, as well as efficient.
It’s time for her revenge.
Miyuki led the swat team to a seemingly abandoned building just outside of Seattle, where she was originally from. However, she knows very well that this place is not abandoned. This place is hiding infinite secrets and she’s eager to shut it all down.
The sounds of her heels clicking on the floor echo in the building. Miyuki approaches a door on the main level, and moves a wooden panel to expose a keypad. She enters the pin.
8 9 2 4 9 0 2 8 9…
How could she ever forget that code? It’s embedded in her mind so heavily… she’ll never forget it. Nor will she forget the grin on her face when the door opened up, and the elevator chimed, and Miyuki Nakamura herself got to send in the SWAT team to go down and take them all out.
The SWAT raid resulted in three hundred arrests nationwide, and the liberation of thousands of sex slaves. During all of the chaos, however, Miyuki explained to Trevor that she had no family. No one, no children, no husband, her parents are dead and buried in Japan… she’s been a loner for quite some time, completely alone in the world and with no one to look out for her.
“The last time I’ve felt safe, truly safe,” Miyuki said as she and Trevor sit on his couch, where it all truly began for them, watching the news about the liberated women, all thanks to them both. “Was when you fucked me, when you had me tied down and you made me see stars.”
Shifting in his seat, he tries to hide his grin, focusing on the television. “I’m fond of you, too, Miyuki.”
“I’d like to remain your Elena, if you’re willing, I’d love to… be yours. And stay with you. Unless you would find it terrible and awkward.” Miyuki can’t help but giggle.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gives her a good squeeze. “You want to stay with me and get dominated every night, is that it?”
Leaning against him, she can’t help but exhale. “Yes. Please?”
“You don’t have to beg… not right now, at least. Unless…”
Miyuki places a hand on his chest, licking at her lips as she speaks. “Please, please help me.”
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In a distant future, women are trained to be sex slaves and bought by wealthy men through Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. Follow the tale of Rinata, and her first experience with her husband, the man that paid for her and left her clear rules for his expectations.
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
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A small family in California jump into a lake, a common hobby for them. However, today, something different lurks in the water. The family find themselves the patient zero clan for a new pandemic.
The sun is setting just perfectly over Oakdale, California. The moon is peaking out over the horizon now as the sun disappears flawlessly, casting shades of red, purple, and a dark blue over the waters. Life, however, is about to take a strong left turn.
When people think about pandemics, or epidemics, they mostly think of ebola. COVID19 has become almost an after thought in this world now. One could argue this is a good thing. One could also argue that this signifies how society would react in regards to something much, much bigger going on.
Insanely bigger.
The family is enjoying a vacation. This is where everything is going to begin for not only them, but the world. That lake shimmers with the sun as it falls down over the horizon. Little does this family know, or understand, that being in the lake is the entire issue. Had they never come into contact with the water, the events of their patient zero tale would have never fallen like dominoes into this path. Maybe they could have skirted by without an infection.
Mateo, twenty years old, is the last one to get out of the water. He likes being it water, likes the way it mats down his curly black hair. He just likes being wet, honestly. Swimming is something he loves doing, which may be why became a firefighter. It’s not just fighting fires. He’s jumping into rivers and lakes and pools to save people.
He’d swallowed a lot of water, he’d absorbed a lot into his skin, giving him a rather pruny appearance. His lightly olive skin glistens in the low light of the setting son as he exits the water, cracking his neck to the side.
Jesus, the forty seven year old father of the children and the patriarch of the family, is not such a strong swimmer. Not a fan of being wet for too long, Jesus got the least exposure to the water today. But still enough for him to now become one of the infected without knowing it. Without even knowing that people were infected at all.
It’s all really flying under the radar for now.
It seems like a paradise of a vacation for Serilla and Brandi. Brandi, the mother, Serilla, the daughter, spent time dipping in and out of the lake while suntanning. It’s been fun, they’ve enjoyed themselves significantly.
Once Jesse comes back from fishing way further down the lake, the family is all back together in the house.
Jesus is in the kitchen, cooking side dishes. He’d been mostly grilling off and on all day, enjoying being able to cook. There’s assorted meats on the table, Mateo and Brandi go to fix their plates first. But as Mateo looks down at his hand, he wonders… did he always have big hands? He really can’t remember. What person pays so much attention to their hands?
Brandi looks over at her son, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Instead, she focuses on her plate. She’s hungry, for some reason. Rather ravenous despite taking many breaks to eat during the day to keep herself going. Serilla joins the pair, butting in to grab some ribs, some asada, some adobado. She’s hungry as hell, too. None of the family is questioning their appetites right now. It’s easily rationalized. They’ve been swimming all day, they’ve all been getting dehydrated by the son. Of course they’d be hungry. Who wouldn’t be?
“My hands hurt,” Mateo announces as Jesse joins the family in grabbing food. The hunger has set in for him.
“Yeah, mine too. And my feet,” Serilla adds as she feels herself starting to ache in places as well.
“You all pushed yourself too hard today, too much movement,” Brandi insists as she takes her seat at the table. Her children follow suit, sitting around the table Jesus was still adding food to, before they all began to hungrily dig in. They all feel like they’re starving. Like they may not have eaten in weeks, yet they have been eating all damn day.
It’s uncomfortable to say the least. The rice and beans and various vegetables are an afterthought, only being picked off from the table when their plates run out of red meat. Starving. They’re all fucking starving.
Mateo notices it again. His hands hurt. And not only that, he swears his fingers look longer. With a rib in one hand, he raises the other to look at it. And then, a sharp pain radiates through Serilla’s leg.
She doesn’t yelp, or cry out, but instead she pushes her chair back to look at both of her legs in her bikini… is she taller?! Why does Serilla feel like her legs just got bigger? It’s not a fun thing to realize for her, she’s less aloof than Mateo in that regard. But still, she swallows down the food in her mouth ravenously.
The pain doesn’t subside.
Mateo drops his rib back onto his plate. Standing up quickly, he leaves the dining room and goes back to the living room. That couch has never looked more comfortable. He’s never liked the couch in the lake house, but, right now? He’s taking great pleasure in plopping down on it in his still wet shorts. His mother will have to understand, he’s in too much pain to take them off.
Serilla eventually follows her brother, opting for the love seat sofa in the corner. Much like her brother, she’s never been a fan of sleeping on these things. But she feels such a sense of comfort with her body at ease on the tinier couch.
They aren’t noticing it just yet but their bodies are changing. Serilla’s legs are growing at the joints, the pains she is feeling are indeed growing pains. And the same goes for Mateo and Jesse. Their arms are hurting because they’re growing.
It isn’t until Jesse joins his siblings on the couches, laying in the second love seat sofa across from Serilla, that he processes the amount of pain he’s in. His arms feel so heavy. And they should, because he’s gained double the arm length.
Mateo’s arms have doubled, but now his legs are getting longer. He writhes in deep seeded pain on the couch. His head turns from side to side as the pain spreads into his back. He isn’t understanding any of this.
Serilla whimpers loudly, she can feel the pain all the way from her hips down into her toes, it’s a deep pain that she can’t even describe. It’s like her muscles are being rearranged into something else, or the bones that hold her curvy body together are shift. The severe discomfort is unrivaled. And there’s no solace in the fact that she isn’t the only one in the house in such agony. In fact, it seems to worry her even more. Why is this happening to them? What did they do wrong? Serilla doesn’t understand it and slowly begins to weep. It’s a horrifying situation to be in, of course.
Mateo’s body continues to elongate until the bends of his knees are hanging off of the couch. He’s doubled in size and is just about to triple. Jesse is not far behind his little brother, his body doubling and rushing to the tripling mark. He’d not had the time to think about what any of this means either. Neither of the boys had.
Brandi, finally, joins her children in the living room, taking a hard seat in the recliner. No one speaks because they already know, everyone in this room is in just as much pain as whoever would ask about it. There’s so much groaning.
Jesus… he had the least exposure, but he’s still feeling it, he can feel his hips aching and his arms follow close behind, as if his body is joining a raise to see who can be in the most pain out of his entire family. It takes him time, his feet carrying him to the living room slowly. His feet… they’re huge now, the bones and muscles are aching like never before and once he makes it to that room…
He just crashes onto the second recliner.
The family’s all together now, crying out, writhing in pain as body parts elongate and stretch. The sounds of bones being broken or cracking and then being pushed back together echoes out every few seconds. Coming from someone completely different every single time.
Mateo’s entire body is almost too big for the couch, his legs now comically hanging off of it as he just lays there on his back in severe pain.
Jesse’s torso fits on the love seat sofa, but not much more of him. He’s the one who is the first to pray.
“Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos. Santificado sea tu Nombre. Venga tu reino,” Jesse’s voice chokes up here for a moment, his arm snapping multiple times without his consent, without his doing. “Hágase tu voluntad. En la tierra como en el cielo. Danos hoy el pan de este día y perdona nuestras deudas como nosotros perdonamos nuestros deudores y no nos dejes caer en la tentación sino que líbranos del malo. Amen.” Reciting the Padre Nuestro may seem like the wrong thing to do here, but how could he do anything else? Jesse doesn’t understand why no one else is praying!
“Si vivimos, para el Señor vivimos. Y si morimos, para el Señor morimos.” All Jesse knows to do right now is to pray. There’s no one else he can call on, and he’s stable enough to be able to pray out loud for now. For his entire family. Because he thinks he may not make it out alive. And if he feels like this…
He can only imagine Mateo and Serilla are feeling the exact same way. Their bodies are contorting and snapping and aching. Jesse can hear them groaning and grunting, but it’s so hard to process who is making what noise. Mateo sounds like a woman at times, that is hoe much pain his poor brother is in.
“Sal, alma cristiana, de este mundo, en el nombre de Dios Padre todopoderoso, que te creó, en el nombre de Jesucristo, Hijo de Dios vivo, que padeció por ti, en el nombre del Espiritu Santo, que te santificó. Que descanses hoy en paz y habites con Dios en su Reino,en compañía de la Virgen Madre de Dios, Maria Santísima, de san José y de todos los ángeles y santos.” Jesse fully believes they’re all dying right now.
Brandi writhes in the recliner, but she can barely fit in it now. It feels like she’s doubled in size. Because she has. If any of the family stand up, their heads will more than hit the ceiling. Doubling, tripling in size. It’s like the worst growth spurt someone could go through. Because it is.
The parasitic virus in the lake has made this family its’ patient zeroes. Never something any human being wants to be. The first people to become utterly fucked up by this virus.
But, Brandi and Serilla are finding their pains ending. For a brief moment, Serilla feared that she was finally dying. That the relief washing over her body as it laid without fitting on that love seat couch was death calling her name. Brandi for a moment feared the same, but there was no lights at the end of the tunnel. The women just laid there, catching their breath.
“Vengan a su ayuda, santos de Dios; salgan a su encuentro, ángeles del Señor. Reciban su alma y preséntenla ante el Altísimo.
Oremos:
Te encomendamos, Señor, a tu hijo NOMBRE, a fin de que, muerto ya para el mundo, viva para ti. Con tu infinita misericordia perdona los pecados que la fragilidad humana le haya hecho cometer. Por Jesucristo, nuestro Señor. AMEN!” Jesse cannot stop praying.
It’s all he knows to do. Even if the pain is calming down for the women, all the men are still going through it. The pain is like the worst parts of everything. A kidney stone in your joints. A toothache in your back.
“Why is this happening?!” Jesus finally cries out. His process is less intense than his children’s, but how could he even consider relaxing while his babies are in pain? His legs are growing swiftly, he can feel his body spreading, expanding, his fingers severely elongating as his body changes. These were not the changes Jesus thought he would be going through at his age.
Grey hair, erectile dysfunction, that was what he thought was waiting for him.
“I… I don’t know! Dad I don’t know what’s happening. Why are we stretching?! Why are we getting bigger?!” Mateo cries out, as instead of turning to Christ, he turns to his father instead. His father is more likely to answer him, even if Mateo is fully aware his dad has no answers.
“I have no idea!” Jesus cries back out at his son, which is the exact answer Mateo was expecting. No one has any idea what is happening to them.
Serilla and Brandi are just trying to breathe. They both look at their expended bodies, noticing somewhere along the lines, their bikinis had ripped off. Both of the women are naked as the day they were born. But at this moment, they’re both too exhausted to consider doing anything about it.
They will soon enough, however.
Mateo screams a little bit as his shorts rip off, turning into tatters underneath of his hips. The only plus side he can come to find as he looks down at his body? His cock’s bigger. Jesse looks down at himself as well, noticing the exact same thing as his swimming trunks have long since disappeared. At least his cock is bigger. That’s not something he’s gonna complain about, honestly. What man in their right mind would?!
But it aches. The boys are finding their cocks aching now as they grind and writhe on their backs. Briefly, Mateo wonders if he should roll onto his stomach. But ultimately, he decides against it. In case the couch feels like giving out on him. He needs this couch. Mateo needs to feel comfortable at rest in something.
It’s Jesse who is next to stop growing. He’s become triple his height, he’s almost doubled his body weight, and every single joint he has is still aching angrily. Even if the pain is rapidly subsiding, he finds himself tired.
Exhaustion isn’t even the right word for it. Jesse feels like he just woke up from a coma but still wants five more minutes of sleep. His arm hits the floor as he tries to savor this moment. It’s been hours, hours of the family in the living room undergoing this transformation from the parasitic virus they didn’t even know they had come into contact with.
And Jesse is just exhausted from it all. Brandi has never been more wrong with her maternal wisdom that the kids just pushed themselves too hard today. Maybe she should have gotten them to a hospital instead of just pressuring them to eat.
Food cannot solve every problem in the world, unfortunately.
Their ravenous hunger is also explained now, at least to Mateo. If their bodies were going to change and transform then it needed energy. More energy than they had in them at the time. Eating so much food so fast had been their downfall. Maybe they could have prolonged the inevitable path of pain just for a bit longer. Had they only put off eating as quickly as possible.
Jesse sits up, slowly, his head almost hitting the ceiling but not quite. His dark brown eyes flick around the room. He sees his mother in the recliner, trying to catch her breath still yet. He sees his sister, laying on that love seat couch completely naked.
And he growls.
Jesse isn’t sure why he growled, but he did. Normally he would have looked away, he would have turned his head and not paid attention to it. But his dark eyes were roaming over her perky breasts, over every single curve, over her body and taking it in rather hungrily.
Jesse was starving now but it wasn’t for food. No, it was for another just as important need. It was for sex. He could feel the blood rushing downward, into his cock. Causing the hefty muscle to slowly start to stand on it’s own. Jesse’s erection is growing quickly when his and Serilla’s eyes meet.
Serilla… she starts to drool as she lays on her back on that much smaller love seat couch. Her eyes flutter, her eyelashes bat. Just hours ago the concept of fucking her brothers would have made the woman vomit, but now she’s finding her loins are aching, too.
The canal of her pussy is soaked. Her clit is engorged, throbbing as she and Jesse keep that stare. It’s something neither of the siblings can deny, honestly. They want each other.
Jesse does try to stand up, but when his head hits the ceiling, he opts for a swift crawl, making his way to his sister, to Serilla, the most gorgeous thing he swears he has ever seen. Serilla naturally spreads her legs a bit wider now. Mateo and Jesus still cry out in pain every few moments, but now Jesse is done praying. He’s done trying to get them some sort of saving. More along the lines of accepting their fate.
This is their fate and the parasitic virus makes it hard for him to deny his urges now. Same for Serilla. Everyone else will get to this point as well. But for now, it’s just Jesse and Serilla being total fucking giant perverts.
Crawling between his sister’s legs, his cock flops and lands on her slit. Serilla shivers, hard, unsure if she has ever been so horny in her entire life.
Rocking his hips back and forth, Jesse spends a few moments teasing his big sister’s pussy. Grinding his underside against her swollen clit, smearing her juices all over her gorgeous pussy lips. Their hearts are racing, almost in sync, she can feel his heartbeat against her clit through the underside of his penis.
Jesse grabs his sister’s hands, bending her arms to pin them behind of her head with his own as his hips shift. The head of Jesse’s cock gets an angle, and his hips jut forward. The siblings go far past the point of no return as he penetrates Serilla. His cock sinks in and he lets out a satisfactory grunt.
Still staring down at her, Serilla meets and keeps his gaze. Their eyes stay locked as her brother mounts her, his entire cock filling her pussy up and stretching it while she moans. Her heavenly noises mix with the hellish screams of her father and other brother. It’s truly a mismatched menagerie of sound at the moment. But it almost suits the situation, almost makes the most perfect soundtrack for the situation the family was forced into.
Jesse swings his hips back, pulling them until half of his cock is out and spearing back in. He finds a hard, fast rhythm. Serilla’s moans become louder, her hands fighting against the pinning a bit as her breasts heave and shake from the furiously rough thrusts. Her brother is her Adonis in this moment.
Jesse’s balls loudly clap against the back of his sister’s legs, against her ass. The sounds of her squelching pussy starts to mix in with all the noises. And her brother is all too happy to keep beating that pussy up like it owes him some serious money. The oomph behind his thrusts makes that love seat sofa creak underneath of them, their giant bodies colliding together over and over again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck that dick is so fucking big!” Serilla cries out, she can’t help herself. Her orgasm comes quick, quicker than she would have wanted it or expected it to. That big, yet tight, pussy convulses around her brother’s cock as it pistons in and out of her. Jesse doesn’t slow down, not for a second, he continues to beat it right the fuck up.
The noises Mateo has been listening to have made his body shiver. When he sits up next, he sees his cock is standing fully erect. But he doesn’t have a chance to try and join his brother and sister in their little tryst. Instead, he sees someone else crawling towards him.
Brandi pushes her son until he is flush with the couch. She needs this, too. Listening to her son fuck her daughter’s brains out has worked up the woman to no end. How she wishes she could understand why.
“M-Mommy?” Mateo croaks out, his cock giving an almost painful twitch in the air. He needs her, he’s never needed someone so badly before. As he stares into his mother’s eyes, Mateo knows he has to fuck her. He needs his cock inside of her as quickly as possible. Brandi feels the same way. But she has no idea why. Brandi has never been attracted to her sons before, but right now? She’s in so much need it’s unreal.
Jesus is still in pain on the floor. It’s hitting him harder because he’s had the least exposure, it’s taking longer for that parasitic virus to multiply, to replicate his cells. But it’s just his painful screams now the only noises that aren’t filled with insane pleasure.
Brandi crawls onto Mateo’s lap. Serilla screams out with another shaking orgasm, the fury of her own explosion causing Jesse to slow his movements to keep from blowing his load in what he considers to be premature.
Once on his lap, Brandi just drops her ass onto it. Spearing Mateo’s entire cock inside of her pussy, letting the head mash against her cervix. The exact same pussy that made him, the same cunt that brought him into this world.
“M-Mom!” Mateo cries out, his hands going to her hips to hold her down. Brandi presses her hands to his chest, rolling her head back as she starts to moan, almost in sync with her daughter. She grinds those hips back and forth, Mateo holding her down but letting her wiggle and grind as much as she wants.
Mateo begins to buck his hims upwards, fucking his mother’s pussy roughly as she keeps grinding, spelling coconut and nothing less on her son’s amazing cock. Mateo had always been rather hung, but given the transformations his body just underwent? He’s much more hefty in the cock department.
His mother’s tight walls squeeze his cock, making him shudder and lurch here and there. “Mommy… mom… mom… fuck, mom… fuck fuck fuck…” A vocal lover, he can’t stop talking to her. Watching her breasts heave up and down as he fucks her, as she grinds her hips on him, as his brother fucks the hell out of his sister.
The noises are nothing less than sinful.
Slapping of skin on skin, balls hitting asses, and of course Jesus groaning out in pain on the floor. He’s screaming in pain every few seconds. The other four can hear their father’s bones breaking and rearranging over and over again but they ignore it.
They ignore his calls and cries of pain and anguish as they keep themselves focused on this primal urge. All they want to do now is fuck.
Jesse continues to fuck his sister, keeping her arms and hands pinned until they go numb behind of her head. Over and over again he slams his cock into her pussy, bashing her cervix with the head of his cock. Those walls keep squeezing him, his poor sister cumming like a fountain every few minutes. But he loves it. Jesse is enthralled with watching his sister’s eyes roll back with each orgasm, with the hypnotic way her breasts jiggle and bounce with each of his thrusts.
Mateo is in a similar situation, in a serious trance as he watches his mom’s breasts bounce right in his face. Brandi’s really feeling herself. Her hands roam over her youngest son’s chest, her hips move like a fucking tornado attacking a mobile home.
“Fuck, mommy…” Mateo moans out as his nails dig into her hips tensely, leaving little crescent moon shapes in her flesh. “Y-You’re gonna make me cum.”
Both of the sons wish they could move their women into a new position. But they don’t want to destroy the furniture, no, they need it, they need comfortable places to give into their urges. They need somewhere to rest, their instincts are truly kicking in, a new sense of self preservation has taken over with the virus.
Jesse groans louder, noises more akin to a caveman or a wild animal than a living, breathing human being. His hips somehow manage to get a quicker pace, his balls giving a harsh lurch as he finally pushes his hips forward and starts to pump his cum into his big sister.
Serilla squeals, her legs wrapping around Jesse to pull him in deeper while he cums inside of her. His milky white seed spews inside of her pretty little pussy, filling it up until it starts to leak out the sides the seal their intermingled sexes made.
His grunting, his groaning, does not stop as he keeps pumping his nut, the fattest fucking nut of his life, right into his sister’s perfect pussy. If anything, he thinks Serilla may be his soulmate. She’s the best lay he’s ever had and he doesn’t care anymore that he doesn’t understand why.
Why is everyone feeling this why? Why did everyone double or triple in size? Why is all of this happening? No one can question it, the nightmares in the water simply won’t allow it.
Exhausted now, Jesse collapses on top of his big sister, the two of them falling asleep together. These couches, these love seat sofas, they used to be nightmares for these adults when they were children. New they’re a respite of normalcy in a chaotically fucked up world they had no desire to be in, but were forced into.
Mateo is furiously dragging his mom’s hips back and forth. Helping her properly grind on his cock, still thrusting his own hips up into her body. Brandi is screaming from how hard her son is fucking her. When her orgasm hits her, it makes those walls tense up and convulse against Mateo’s rather greedy cock. Brandi can feel just how bad her son needs this orgasm.
Just as bad as she needed the one he just gave her. How could she deny her son? Her new instincts simply won’t allow it. She continues to pump her hips back and forth fast, fast, faster. Letting Mateo’s grappling hands move her how he wants her, how he needs her.
“M-Mommy please…” Mateo begs, his head tossing back onto the couch, staring up at the wall. Jesus screams again in deep pain while his arms stretch and grow, he’s really going through it while his family is now having the time of their lives.
Mateo can’t fucking hold it anymore. His cock twitches deeply inside of his mother’s pussy as he spurts and splatters, painting her insides white. He can feel her pussy still convulsing from her last orgasm, to which Mateo just launches more cream into her. Cumming like a fucking fire hose inside of his own mother. Large legs shaking, even the couch shakes underneath of them as Mateo explodes in her sweet pussy.
Much like his brother and sister, with his head on the back of the couch, Mateo falls asleep. His mother is not far behind, tucking her head under his chin, curling up, and drifting off quickly. Everyone is going to wake up hungry. The cycle will repeat until something horrible comes to pass, unfortunately. But none of them can even comprehend the Lovecraftian horror story they have been thrust into.
Jesus just screams and cries on the floor. Hours pass and he can feel his body changing. All he knows to do is scream, and try to understand why he’s in so much pain for so much longer…
Yet his family just had a fucking orgy around him.
The sun is setting just perfectly over Oakdale, California. The moon is peaking out over the horizon now as the sun disappears flawlessly, casting shades of red, purple, and a dark blue over the waters. Life, however, is about to take a strong left turn.
When people think about pandemics, or epidemics, they mostly think of ebola. COVID19 has become almost an after thought in this world now. One could argue this is a good thing. One could also argue that this signifies how society would react in regards to something much, much bigger going on.
Insanely bigger.
The family is enjoying a vacation. This is where everything is going to begin for not only them, but the world. That lake shimmers with the sun as it falls down over the horizon. Little does this family know, or understand, that being in the lake is the entire issue. Had they never come into contact with the water, the events of their patient zero tale would have never fallen like dominoes into this path. Maybe they could have skirted by without an infection.
Mateo, twenty years old, is the last one to get out of the water. He likes being it water, likes the way it mats down his curly black hair. He just likes being wet, honestly. Swimming is something he loves doing, which may be why became a firefighter. It’s not just fighting fires. He’s jumping into rivers and lakes and pools to save people.
He’d swallowed a lot of water, he’d absorbed a lot into his skin, giving him a rather pruny appearance. His lightly olive skin glistens in the low light of the setting son as he exits the water, cracking his neck to the side.
Jesus, the forty seven year old father of the children and the patriarch of the family, is not such a strong swimmer. Not a fan of being wet for too long, Jesus got the least exposure to the water today. But still enough for him to now become one of the infected without knowing it. Without even knowing that people were infected at all.
It’s all really flying under the radar for now.
It seems like a paradise of a vacation for Serilla and Brandi. Brandi, the mother, Serilla, the daughter, spent time dipping in and out of the lake while suntanning. It’s been fun, they’ve enjoyed themselves significantly.
Once Jesse comes back from fishing way further down the lake, the family is all back together in the house.
Jesus is in the kitchen, cooking side dishes. He’d been mostly grilling off and on all day, enjoying being able to cook. There’s assorted meats on the table, Mateo and Brandi go to fix their plates first. But as Mateo looks down at his hand, he wonders… did he always have big hands? He really can’t remember. What person pays so much attention to their hands?
Brandi looks over at her son, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Instead, she focuses on her plate. She’s hungry, for some reason. Rather ravenous despite taking many breaks to eat during the day to keep herself going. Serilla joins the pair, butting in to grab some ribs, some asada, some adobado. She’s hungry as hell, too. None of the family is questioning their appetites right now. It’s easily rationalized. They’ve been swimming all day, they’ve all been getting dehydrated by the son. Of course they’d be hungry. Who wouldn’t be?
“My hands hurt,” Mateo announces as Jesse joins the family in grabbing food. The hunger has set in for him.
“Yeah, mine too. And my feet,” Serilla adds as she feels herself starting to ache in places as well.
“You all pushed yourself too hard today, too much movement,” Brandi insists as she takes her seat at the table. Her children follow suit, sitting around the table Jesus was still adding food to, before they all began to hungrily dig in. They all feel like they’re starving. Like they may not have eaten in weeks, yet they have been eating all damn day.
It’s uncomfortable to say the least. The rice and beans and various vegetables are an afterthought, only being picked off from the table when their plates run out of red meat. Starving. They’re all fucking starving.
Mateo notices it again. His hands hurt. And not only that, he swears his fingers look longer. With a rib in one hand, he raises the other to look at it. And then, a sharp pain radiates through Serilla’s leg.
She doesn’t yelp, or cry out, but instead she pushes her chair back to look at both of her legs in her bikini… is she taller?! Why does Serilla feel like her legs just got bigger? It’s not a fun thing to realize for her, she’s less aloof than Mateo in that regard. But still, she swallows down the food in her mouth ravenously.
The pain doesn’t subside.
Mateo drops his rib back onto his plate. Standing up quickly, he leaves the dining room and goes back to the living room. That couch has never looked more comfortable. He’s never liked the couch in the lake house, but, right now? He’s taking great pleasure in plopping down on it in his still wet shorts. His mother will have to understand, he’s in too much pain to take them off.
Serilla eventually follows her brother, opting for the love seat sofa in the corner. Much like her brother, she’s never been a fan of sleeping on these things. But she feels such a sense of comfort with her body at ease on the tinier couch.
They aren’t noticing it just yet but their bodies are changing. Serilla’s legs are growing at the joints, the pains she is feeling are indeed growing pains. And the same goes for Mateo and Jesse. Their arms are hurting because they’re growing.
It isn’t until Jesse joins his siblings on the couches, laying in the second love seat sofa across from Serilla, that he processes the amount of pain he’s in. His arms feel so heavy. And they should, because he’s gained double the arm length.
Mateo’s arms have doubled, but now his legs are getting longer. He writhes in deep seeded pain on the couch. His head turns from side to side as the pain spreads into his back. He isn’t understanding any of this.
Serilla whimpers loudly, she can feel the pain all the way from her hips down into her toes, it’s a deep pain that she can’t even describe. It’s like her muscles are being rearranged into something else, or the bones that hold her curvy body together are shift. The severe discomfort is unrivaled. And there’s no solace in the fact that she isn’t the only one in the house in such agony. In fact, it seems to worry her even more. Why is this happening to them? What did they do wrong? Serilla doesn’t understand it and slowly begins to weep. It’s a horrifying situation to be in, of course.
Mateo’s body continues to elongate until the bends of his knees are hanging off of the couch. He’s doubled in size and is just about to triple. Jesse is not far behind his little brother, his body doubling and rushing to the tripling mark. He’d not had the time to think about what any of this means either. Neither of the boys had.
Brandi, finally, joins her children in the living room, taking a hard seat in the recliner. No one speaks because they already know, everyone in this room is in just as much pain as whoever would ask about it. There’s so much groaning.
Jesus… he had the least exposure, but he’s still feeling it, he can feel his hips aching and his arms follow close behind, as if his body is joining a raise to see who can be in the most pain out of his entire family. It takes him time, his feet carrying him to the living room slowly. His feet… they’re huge now, the bones and muscles are aching like never before and once he makes it to that room…
He just crashes onto the second recliner.
The family’s all together now, crying out, writhing in pain as body parts elongate and stretch. The sounds of bones being broken or cracking and then being pushed back together echoes out every few seconds. Coming from someone completely different every single time.
Mateo’s entire body is almost too big for the couch, his legs now comically hanging off of it as he just lays there on his back in severe pain.
Jesse’s torso fits on the love seat sofa, but not much more of him. He’s the one who is the first to pray.
“Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos. Santificado sea tu Nombre. Venga tu reino,” Jesse’s voice chokes up here for a moment, his arm snapping multiple times without his consent, without his doing. “Hágase tu voluntad. En la tierra como en el cielo. Danos hoy el pan de este día y perdona nuestras deudas como nosotros perdonamos nuestros deudores y no nos dejes caer en la tentación sino que líbranos del malo. Amen.” Reciting the Padre Nuestro may seem like the wrong thing to do here, but how could he do anything else? Jesse doesn’t understand why no one else is praying!
“Si vivimos, para el Señor vivimos. Y si morimos, para el Señor morimos.” All Jesse knows to do right now is to pray. There’s no one else he can call on, and he’s stable enough to be able to pray out loud for now. For his entire family. Because he thinks he may not make it out alive. And if he feels like this…
He can only imagine Mateo and Serilla are feeling the exact same way. Their bodies are contorting and snapping and aching. Jesse can hear them groaning and grunting, but it’s so hard to process who is making what noise. Mateo sounds like a woman at times, that is hoe much pain his poor brother is in.
“Sal, alma cristiana, de este mundo, en el nombre de Dios Padre todopoderoso, que te creó, en el nombre de Jesucristo, Hijo de Dios vivo, que padeció por ti, en el nombre del Espiritu Santo, que te santificó. Que descanses hoy en paz y habites con Dios en su Reino,en compañía de la Virgen Madre de Dios, Maria Santísima, de san José y de todos los ángeles y santos.” Jesse fully believes they’re all dying right now.
Brandi writhes in the recliner, but she can barely fit in it now. It feels like she’s doubled in size. Because she has. If any of the family stand up, their heads will more than hit the ceiling. Doubling, tripling in size. It’s like the worst growth spurt someone could go through. Because it is.
The parasitic virus in the lake has made this family its’ patient zeroes. Never something any human being wants to be. The first people to become utterly fucked up by this virus.
But, Brandi and Serilla are finding their pains ending. For a brief moment, Serilla feared that she was finally dying. That the relief washing over her body as it laid without fitting on that love seat couch was death calling her name. Brandi for a moment feared the same, but there was no lights at the end of the tunnel. The women just laid there, catching their breath.
“Vengan a su ayuda, santos de Dios; salgan a su encuentro, ángeles del Señor. Reciban su alma y preséntenla ante el Altísimo.
Oremos:
Te encomendamos, Señor, a tu hijo NOMBRE, a fin de que, muerto ya para el mundo, viva para ti. Con tu infinita misericordia perdona los pecados que la fragilidad humana le haya hecho cometer. Por Jesucristo, nuestro Señor. AMEN!” Jesse cannot stop praying.
It’s all he knows to do. Even if the pain is calming down for the women, all the men are still going through it. The pain is like the worst parts of everything. A kidney stone in your joints. A toothache in your back.
“Why is this happening?!” Jesus finally cries out. His process is less intense than his children’s, but how could he even consider relaxing while his babies are in pain? His legs are growing swiftly, he can feel his body spreading, expanding, his fingers severely elongating as his body changes. These were not the changes Jesus thought he would be going through at his age.
Grey hair, erectile dysfunction, that was what he thought was waiting for him.
“I… I don’t know! Dad I don’t know what’s happening. Why are we stretching?! Why are we getting bigger?!” Mateo cries out, as instead of turning to Christ, he turns to his father instead. His father is more likely to answer him, even if Mateo is fully aware his dad has no answers.
“I have no idea!” Jesus cries back out at his son, which is the exact answer Mateo was expecting. No one has any idea what is happening to them.
Serilla and Brandi are just trying to breathe. They both look at their expended bodies, noticing somewhere along the lines, their bikinis had ripped off. Both of the women are naked as the day they were born. But at this moment, they’re both too exhausted to consider doing anything about it.
They will soon enough, however.
Mateo screams a little bit as his shorts rip off, turning into tatters underneath of his hips. The only plus side he can come to find as he looks down at his body? His cock’s bigger. Jesse looks down at himself as well, noticing the exact same thing as his swimming trunks have long since disappeared. At least his cock is bigger. That’s not something he’s gonna complain about, honestly. What man in their right mind would?!
But it aches. The boys are finding their cocks aching now as they grind and writhe on their backs. Briefly, Mateo wonders if he should roll onto his stomach. But ultimately, he decides against it. In case the couch feels like giving out on him. He needs this couch. Mateo needs to feel comfortable at rest in something.
It’s Jesse who is next to stop growing. He’s become triple his height, he’s almost doubled his body weight, and every single joint he has is still aching angrily. Even if the pain is rapidly subsiding, he finds himself tired.
Exhaustion isn’t even the right word for it. Jesse feels like he just woke up from a coma but still wants five more minutes of sleep. His arm hits the floor as he tries to savor this moment. It’s been hours, hours of the family in the living room undergoing this transformation from the parasitic virus they didn’t even know they had come into contact with.
And Jesse is just exhausted from it all. Brandi has never been more wrong with her maternal wisdom that the kids just pushed themselves too hard today. Maybe she should have gotten them to a hospital instead of just pressuring them to eat.
Food cannot solve every problem in the world, unfortunately.
Their ravenous hunger is also explained now, at least to Mateo. If their bodies were going to change and transform then it needed energy. More energy than they had in them at the time. Eating so much food so fast had been their downfall. Maybe they could have prolonged the inevitable path of pain just for a bit longer. Had they only put off eating as quickly as possible.
Jesse sits up, slowly, his head almost hitting the ceiling but not quite. His dark brown eyes flick around the room. He sees his mother in the recliner, trying to catch her breath still yet. He sees his sister, laying on that love seat couch completely naked.
And he growls.
Jesse isn’t sure why he growled, but he did. Normally he would have looked away, he would have turned his head and not paid attention to it. But his dark eyes were roaming over her perky breasts, over every single curve, over her body and taking it in rather hungrily.
Jesse was starving now but it wasn’t for food. No, it was for another just as important need. It was for sex. He could feel the blood rushing downward, into his cock. Causing the hefty muscle to slowly start to stand on it’s own. Jesse’s erection is growing quickly when his and Serilla’s eyes meet.
Serilla… she starts to drool as she lays on her back on that much smaller love seat couch. Her eyes flutter, her eyelashes bat. Just hours ago the concept of fucking her brothers would have made the woman vomit, but now she’s finding her loins are aching, too.
The canal of her pussy is soaked. Her clit is engorged, throbbing as she and Jesse keep that stare. It’s something neither of the siblings can deny, honestly. They want each other.
Jesse does try to stand up, but when his head hits the ceiling, he opts for a swift crawl, making his way to his sister, to Serilla, the most gorgeous thing he swears he has ever seen. Serilla naturally spreads her legs a bit wider now. Mateo and Jesus still cry out in pain every few moments, but now Jesse is done praying. He’s done trying to get them some sort of saving. More along the lines of accepting their fate.
This is their fate and the parasitic virus makes it hard for him to deny his urges now. Same for Serilla. Everyone else will get to this point as well. But for now, it’s just Jesse and Serilla being total fucking giant perverts.
Crawling between his sister’s legs, his cock flops and lands on her slit. Serilla shivers, hard, unsure if she has ever been so horny in her entire life.
Rocking his hips back and forth, Jesse spends a few moments teasing his big sister’s pussy. Grinding his underside against her swollen clit, smearing her juices all over her gorgeous pussy lips. Their hearts are racing, almost in sync, she can feel his heartbeat against her clit through the underside of his penis.
Jesse grabs his sister’s hands, bending her arms to pin them behind of her head with his own as his hips shift. The head of Jesse’s cock gets an angle, and his hips jut forward. The siblings go far past the point of no return as he penetrates Serilla. His cock sinks in and he lets out a satisfactory grunt.
Still staring down at her, Serilla meets and keeps his gaze. Their eyes stay locked as her brother mounts her, his entire cock filling her pussy up and stretching it while she moans. Her heavenly noises mix with the hellish screams of her father and other brother. It’s truly a mismatched menagerie of sound at the moment. But it almost suits the situation, almost makes the most perfect soundtrack for the situation the family was forced into.
Jesse swings his hips back, pulling them until half of his cock is out and spearing back in. He finds a hard, fast rhythm. Serilla’s moans become louder, her hands fighting against the pinning a bit as her breasts heave and shake from the furiously rough thrusts. Her brother is her Adonis in this moment.
Jesse’s balls loudly clap against the back of his sister’s legs, against her ass. The sounds of her squelching pussy starts to mix in with all the noises. And her brother is all too happy to keep beating that pussy up like it owes him some serious money. The oomph behind his thrusts makes that love seat sofa creak underneath of them, their giant bodies colliding together over and over again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck that dick is so fucking big!” Serilla cries out, she can’t help herself. Her orgasm comes quick, quicker than she would have wanted it or expected it to. That big, yet tight, pussy convulses around her brother’s cock as it pistons in and out of her. Jesse doesn’t slow down, not for a second, he continues to beat it right the fuck up.
The noises Mateo has been listening to have made his body shiver. When he sits up next, he sees his cock is standing fully erect. But he doesn’t have a chance to try and join his brother and sister in their little tryst. Instead, he sees someone else crawling towards him.
Brandi pushes her son until he is flush with the couch. She needs this, too. Listening to her son fuck her daughter’s brains out has worked up the woman to no end. How she wishes she could understand why.
“M-Mommy?” Mateo croaks out, his cock giving an almost painful twitch in the air. He needs her, he’s never needed someone so badly before. As he stares into his mother’s eyes, Mateo knows he has to fuck her. He needs his cock inside of her as quickly as possible. Brandi feels the same way. But she has no idea why. Brandi has never been attracted to her sons before, but right now? She’s in so much need it’s unreal.
Jesus is still in pain on the floor. It’s hitting him harder because he’s had the least exposure, it’s taking longer for that parasitic virus to multiply, to replicate his cells. But it’s just his painful screams now the only noises that aren’t filled with insane pleasure.
Brandi crawls onto Mateo’s lap. Serilla screams out with another shaking orgasm, the fury of her own explosion causing Jesse to slow his movements to keep from blowing his load in what he considers to be premature.
Once on his lap, Brandi just drops her ass onto it. Spearing Mateo’s entire cock inside of her pussy, letting the head mash against her cervix. The exact same pussy that made him, the same cunt that brought him into this world.
“M-Mom!” Mateo cries out, his hands going to her hips to hold her down. Brandi presses her hands to his chest, rolling her head back as she starts to moan, almost in sync with her daughter. She grinds those hips back and forth, Mateo holding her down but letting her wiggle and grind as much as she wants.
Mateo begins to buck his hims upwards, fucking his mother’s pussy roughly as she keeps grinding, spelling coconut and nothing less on her son’s amazing cock. Mateo had always been rather hung, but given the transformations his body just underwent? He’s much more hefty in the cock department.
His mother’s tight walls squeeze his cock, making him shudder and lurch here and there. “Mommy… mom… mom… fuck, mom… fuck fuck fuck…” A vocal lover, he can’t stop talking to her. Watching her breasts heave up and down as he fucks her, as she grinds her hips on him, as his brother fucks the hell out of his sister.
The noises are nothing less than sinful.
Slapping of skin on skin, balls hitting asses, and of course Jesus groaning out in pain on the floor. He’s screaming in pain every few seconds. The other four can hear their father’s bones breaking and rearranging over and over again but they ignore it.
They ignore his calls and cries of pain and anguish as they keep themselves focused on this primal urge. All they want to do now is fuck.
Jesse continues to fuck his sister, keeping her arms and hands pinned until they go numb behind of her head. Over and over again he slams his cock into her pussy, bashing her cervix with the head of his cock. Those walls keep squeezing him, his poor sister cumming like a fountain every few minutes. But he loves it. Jesse is enthralled with watching his sister’s eyes roll back with each orgasm, with the hypnotic way her breasts jiggle and bounce with each of his thrusts.
Mateo is in a similar situation, in a serious trance as he watches his mom’s breasts bounce right in his face. Brandi’s really feeling herself. Her hands roam over her youngest son’s chest, her hips move like a fucking tornado attacking a mobile home.
“Fuck, mommy…” Mateo moans out as his nails dig into her hips tensely, leaving little crescent moon shapes in her flesh. “Y-You’re gonna make me cum.”
Both of the sons wish they could move their women into a new position. But they don’t want to destroy the furniture, no, they need it, they need comfortable places to give into their urges. They need somewhere to rest, their instincts are truly kicking in, a new sense of self preservation has taken over with the virus.
Jesse groans louder, noises more akin to a caveman or a wild animal than a living, breathing human being. His hips somehow manage to get a quicker pace, his balls giving a harsh lurch as he finally pushes his hips forward and starts to pump his cum into his big sister.
Serilla squeals, her legs wrapping around Jesse to pull him in deeper while he cums inside of her. His milky white seed spews inside of her pretty little pussy, filling it up until it starts to leak out the sides the seal their intermingled sexes made.
His grunting, his groaning, does not stop as he keeps pumping his nut, the fattest fucking nut of his life, right into his sister’s perfect pussy. If anything, he thinks Serilla may be his soulmate. She’s the best lay he’s ever had and he doesn’t care anymore that he doesn’t understand why.
Why is everyone feeling this why? Why did everyone double or triple in size? Why is all of this happening? No one can question it, the nightmares in the water simply won’t allow it.
Exhausted now, Jesse collapses on top of his big sister, the two of them falling asleep together. These couches, these love seat sofas, they used to be nightmares for these adults when they were children. New they’re a respite of normalcy in a chaotically fucked up world they had no desire to be in, but were forced into.
Mateo is furiously dragging his mom’s hips back and forth. Helping her properly grind on his cock, still thrusting his own hips up into her body. Brandi is screaming from how hard her son is fucking her. When her orgasm hits her, it makes those walls tense up and convulse against Mateo’s rather greedy cock. Brandi can feel just how bad her son needs this orgasm.
Just as bad as she needed the one he just gave her. How could she deny her son? Her new instincts simply won’t allow it. She continues to pump her hips back and forth fast, fast, faster. Letting Mateo’s grappling hands move her how he wants her, how he needs her.
“M-Mommy please…” Mateo begs, his head tossing back onto the couch, staring up at the wall. Jesus screams again in deep pain while his arms stretch and grow, he’s really going through it while his family is now having the time of their lives.
Mateo can’t fucking hold it anymore. His cock twitches deeply inside of his mother’s pussy as he spurts and splatters, painting her insides white. He can feel her pussy still convulsing from her last orgasm, to which Mateo just launches more cream into her. Cumming like a fucking fire hose inside of his own mother. Large legs shaking, even the couch shakes underneath of them as Mateo explodes in her sweet pussy.
Much like his brother and sister, with his head on the back of the couch, Mateo falls asleep. His mother is not far behind, tucking her head under his chin, curling up, and drifting off quickly. Everyone is going to wake up hungry. The cycle will repeat until something horrible comes to pass, unfortunately. But none of them can even comprehend the Lovecraftian horror story they have been thrust into.
Jesus just screams and cries on the floor. Hours pass and he can feel his body changing. All he knows to do is scream, and try to understand why he’s in so much pain for so much longer…
Yet his family just had a fucking orgy around him.
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Would you believe Taylor if he said the love of his life sends him out to seduce other women, and leave them with nothing but his cum to remember him by?
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A lowly member of a SWAT team ends up caring for a former sex slave.
Trevor never anticipated his life would go this route.
Had you told him a week ago he’d be part of the SWAT team that liberated sex slaves from a local warehouse, he would have insisted that nothing like that would happen in his small town. That his position on the SWAT team is mostly through nepotism, and that he himself could never possibly do something so great for victims of a serious crime.
Trevor was wrong. Hilariously and humiliatingly so.
While he was called to a raid of a warehouse, he thought it would turn up absolutely nothing. But alas, the national media has been going insane with the findings. And in a lot of ways, he’s been promoted. Sort of.
The girl that he carried out of the warehouse, she seemed to cling to him. Refusing to speak to anyone but him, Which, he sort of took as a compliment. He never thought of himself as much, but he did something right. All he did was pick up the first woman he saw on the ground. He used his lock buster to get the chains off of her, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and then carried her to safety.
They still have no idea on who she is. Or any of the girls, minus three who were identified a few days ago. They’re the lucky ones, so people say. Yet the reality is that their families will not know what to do with them. Unfortunately, these women are a bit on the tainted side.
They’ve all been brainwashed into sex slavery.
A very complex type of brainwashing occurred. Not many people have any idea of how to combat it. The guys at the FBI are still working on it. But for Trevor, it’s all feeling a bit archaic. He was tasked with keeping the woman that attached herself to him. Because, what else were they supposed to do with the ones that attached themselves to the men who rescued them? Exactly. No one knew what to do, so those like Trevor got tasked with taking care of theirs.
Which is fine. He’d wanted to get, like, a Shih Tzu or a cat or something. Maybe some fish. The pay for this is good, at least. And all he has to do is stay home and protect her. Try to ease her mind into understanding she’s more than just a piece of meat.
The woman is rather gorgeous. Long black hair that Trevor brushes out and puts in a high ponytail, so that it gets dirty at a much slower rate. Porcelain skin with very few flaws or markings, given what the lady went through, he finds that rather surprising. Her eyes are a dark brown., when the light hits them properly, they look like delicate pools of honey.
However, he hasn’t get figured out how to get her to say her name. All she’s said thus far has been various things regarding pleasing him sexually. Which, for good reason, he’s turned down. There are lines someone shouldn’t cross, and Trevor is pretty sure taking advantage of a sex slave is one of those lines. Sure, he laughs at things he shouldn’t on the internet, but he’d still like to cross the pearly gates and dap Saint Peter up.
She’s Asian, she has huge natural breasts, and she’s lactating rather heavily. Other than that, and where he rescued her from, Trevor knows absolutely nothing else about her.
Every day, he gets new information on how to help her. He can submit concerns and inquiries to the FBI agents managing the case, and they’ve been fairly good about responding to him. However, today, he got a response he was not expecting.
In order to assist her with the issue of breast heaviness and prevent mastitis, we recommend milking her with either your hands or a breast pump. Or perhaps both, if she will allow you to touch her in such a way. Do let us know how this goes as it may assist the other women with lactation issues.
Well, shit.
He’s been calling her Elena. Not for any particular reason, it was just the first thing that came to mind when he realized he couldn’t keep calling her ‘woman’ or ‘ma’am’. It felt rude to him, since she’s living in his apartment now. Trevor rarely leaves her alone, so like everyone else in 2024, he ordered a breast pump from Amazon. He never thought he’d have videos on how to use such a thing in his YouTube history, yet, here he is, watching a video on how to properly use a breast pump.
The money’s worth it.
He keeps telling himself that.
Lately, though, her passes at him have gotten even more brazen. Elena began trying to take off his belt, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Wouldn’t taking advantage of her mental state be wrong? He doesn’t know what to do. As badly as he wants to keep his soul intact, he’s only human, he’s going to break down at some point. And he knows it.
Due to her tender condition, most of the time she spends is tied up. Trevor purchased a set of leather bondage restraints, they’re quite fancy. But this wasn’t really the use he had intended for them. It just sort of worked out that way.
With a tired look on his face, he walks into what used to be his guest bedroom. There Elena is, laying on her back on the bed in a pink night gown. The black restraints around her wrists and ankles are a stark contrast to her milky, porcelain skin.
“Please, please help me…”
It’s a common sentence from her. Trevor didn’t know exactly what she meant by that until he figured out she was begging for a milking. Apparently it can be quite painful for a woman’s breasts to get so full. If he had known that sooner, well, he could have helped her sooner. But, thankfully, no one expects him to be perfect in his care for her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he says softly, nodding his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Elena wiggles a little bit, but doesn’t fight her constraints. She hasn’t really fought him on much of anything since he had her. Aside from her sexual advances at him. Yet, looking at her now in those restraints, and how much heavier her bust has gotten, Trevor wonders briefly if his resolves will truly prevail.
“Alright,” Trevor moves forward, taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s warm, that’s his first thought as he feels her thigh against his lower back. Her skin’s so soft, and she’s just… gorgeous. So unbelievably gorgeous and alluring.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, she speaks again.
“Please, please, please help me.”
Holding onto the milking machine in his hand, he grabs one of the pumps and turns himself around, getting onto the bed on his knees.
Looking over her breasts, he finds them without flaw. Her nipples look painfully hard, leaking a little bit in a last ditch effort to get some relief. He really feels awful he didn’t figure this out sooner, or ask about it. Holding onto the pump, he gently presses it to her right nipple. Elena wiggles a little, but seems to let out a deep sigh as she knows what is about to come for her.
Relief. Sweet, sweet breast relief.
Trevor flips the switch on the first pump, and Elena lets out a rather satisfied groan. Applying the second pump to her left breast, she makes the same noise. He watches rather eagerly as her nipples get suckled into the machine, and an off-white liquid seems to start filling up the little bottles attached.
It’s actually pretty hot.
Swallowing a little, he steps off of the bed and simply watches her. As the milking machine takes care of her breasts, suckling her nipples and releasing the sweet milk that had been building up in her for days. His eyes watch as she gets her relief, and he begins to feel something stirring in his pants.
Shit, he’s getting hard! Watching her grind her thighs together for friction, watching her wrists and ankles grind against the restraints, the look of pure contentment on her face. Trevor doesn’t know what to do.
But, what if, crossing that line could help Elena? If this is her normal, what she’s been brainwashed into, and if it’s her normal, what if that means he can replicate those steps to undo the brainwashing? Or… is that all just a thought to justify why he’s unbuckling his belt? Something to make him feel less bad about removing his shirt and stepping out of his pants. Significantly less guilt about hooking his thumbs in his boxers and yanking them down as he steps towards the bed.
His long cock is getting significantly harder the more he watches. Elena seems to be none the wiser at the moment as she continues to writhe and moan in relief. Maybe he had been apprehensive about this at first, but now it makes sense in his mind.
To undo the damage, he has to do the things that were done to Elena, but in a non-damaging way.
Sometimes he can be so stupid. The answer was right in front of him the whole time.
As he crawls onto the bed, Elena opens her eyes. When she sees a man crawling on top of her, she stops grinding her thighs together, instead spreading her legs and relaxing the bondage restraints on her ankles significantly. Her deep brown eyes stare up into his greens, and the moans of relief turn into ones of need.
While she doesn’t talk much outside of expressing her need of help with being milked, Elena keeps staring up at Trevor as he gets on his knees between her legs. His eyes flick from her gorgeous breasts being milked by the machine, and down to her cunt. It’s wet. Wetter than he’s ever seen a woman be. Lifting his hand, he has to touch it, reaching his hand down between her legs and gently feeling how soaked she is. He shivers at the feeling. Elena’s cunt is hot, it’s wet, and that delicate hole feels so tight despite all she had gone through.
Elena whimpers a little as Trevor moves his fingers up and down her cunt. Naturally, she’s ready to take a rather good pounding. As the machine continues to drain her breasts, she becomes aware of the other thing in the room that needs to be drained. Trevor’s balls.
How long has it been since he got laid? Far too long. His cock is now completely hard, a drip of precum leaks from his tip, his head flared and angry. Removing his fingers from the stroking motions of Elena’s sopping cunt, he uses her sweet slick to stroke his cock. Getting it nice and wet as he angles his needy head against her entrance.
Elena bites her lip a little bit, lifting her head up to look down. Just in time to watch that hard, thick prick sinking right into her hole. She whimpers again before letting out a low moan. “Yes…” she whispers the word, licking at her lips as she watches on. More and more of his cock slipping inside of her.
Trevor grabs onto the sheets for dear life, his head hanging low as he pants through his breaths. She’s so tight! It’s like trying to fuck a wet fist, or tucking a hallway into a hot dog.
He keeps moving, shifting his hips and pushing his entire cock inside of her. Not stopping until he can feel the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. If only he could go further… but she’s such a good fit, he’s so deep inside of her, he can feel her walls throbbing around his prick.
There was never a chance he was going to last very long, not his first time being with her. Pulling his hips back, he starts to give her sharp, deep thrusts. Pulling out of her completely feels impossible. He’s panting and groaning, jutting his cock into her over and over again, spearing his cock, prying her walls apart.
“Ah! Yes!” Elena cries out more, her wrists pulling on the restraints as her body starts to twitch and convulse a bit. Trevor can’t take it, he needs to feel those amazing, immaculate, delicious breasts for himself. Quickly, he yanks the pump off of her, letting it clatter to the floor. Her hefty bust is still leaking milk, but he doesn’t care.
Grabbing onto both of her tits, Trevor squeezes them hard, feeling an ooze of liquid against his hands. Fuck! It feels so good, sinking his cock in and out of her so deeply, battering at her cervix as her tit flesh bubbles around his fingers. Elena’s delicious milk leaks out against his hands, making a rather big wet mess underneath of her on the sheets. Fuck it, he can clean it up later.
Elena keeps looking up at Trevor as if he’s a saint. His cock feels so good hammering in and out of her pussy, his balls smacking against her ass. It’s all so familiar to her, yet it feels so much different than the other guys.
That’s when it hits her.
She’s not in the warehouse anymore!
When she blinks, it suddenly looks like there might be someone home in her head after all this time. Trevor lets out a gasp as he sees this, some guilt setting into the pit of his stomach, but it’s impossible for him to stop throttling his cock in and out of her snatch.
“A-Are you okay?!” He asks, but still can’t stop, rocking the bed with his thrusts. Making her breasts shake in his powerful grasp.
“Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!” Elena nods, unable to really say another word other than the affirmative.
“Okay… okay, good!”
Trevor still can’t stop. The way her pussy is starting to tighten up, he can bet she’s about to cum. A blush forms on her body and he can tell she’s heating up. He keeps his grip on her breasts tight, using her restrained body as leverage to fuck her with everything he has. Slapping his balls against her ass in stinging plaps, letting her juices coat his entire sex and dribble out onto the bed. Fuck it all, he’ll clean up after her during her next bath… which is probably going to be tonight, considering how much she’s sweating. It’s all his fault.
Elena writhes and gasps underneath of Trevor, her eyes closing tight and her whole body shaking as her cunt starts to throb more intensely against his cock. As if trying to suckle the cum from straight from his balls.
She really was trained wonderfully… but he shouldn’t be thinking like that! He does want to help her, it’s just hard to focus on helping her when his cock is being drained dry.
It only takes mere seconds more of slamming his cock in and out of her pussy before Trevor erupts inside of her. He hilts himself, grinding his balls against her ass as he tosses his head back and groans loudly. Spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum floods Elena’s throbbing canal. Painting her insides white as his sweat drips from his brow onto her, and the bed.
Huffing, panting, he releases his firm grip on her breasts, only to find they’re still leaking quite heavily. “Ah, shit, lemme…”
With a great air of reluctance, Trevor pulls himself out of Elena’s messy pussy, a trail of his cum following his cock out. Stumbling off of the bed a bit, he grabs the machine, standing on his shaky legs and leaning over her.
“Yes, please, help me.” Elena says, though her gaze is a bit more tired now. And once again, it looks like she’s not all there in the head. Shit, he hates seeing that look returning. But he’ll figure something out. He always does.
Placing the milking machine back onto each of her reddened breasts, he lets out a little laugh. “We’ll work on that some more later. Get some rest. I’m gonna get a shower…”
Trevor enjoyed his shower, but his mind was in a flurry of different thoughts. He’d been fucking Elena, and it looked like she had a spark when it happened. Was it possible he was right? Could having sex with her, could milking her, keeping her comfortable be the key to freeing her mind of her severe brainwashing?
It almost makes sense. To wake her up from her nightmare, he needs to be good to her. Different than her captors. He needs to prove he’s better than all of this shit she went through in the warehouse. So that she can be reunited with her family.
That’s always the end goal, right?
What if he doesn’t want her to go away? No, it’s for the best. Truthfully, he can’t babysit her forever. And it’s very likely she won’t want to stick around once she remembers everything. She’s somebody’s daughter, someone’s sister, perhaps even someone’s mother. People are looking for her, maybe in another country. More than likely, once she remembers who she is, he’s not gonna see his Elena again.
While it hurts, he knows that’s how it has to be. His job right now is to help her in every way he can.
After getting himself dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts, Trevor went back to check on Elena. Knowing full well she herself needs a good bath. He found the bottles on the milking machine were almost overwhelmed with how much they got. So he took them to the kitchen, dumping them out and giving them a good wash.
Once he got the milking machine back into one piece, he placed it on the sink in the guest en suite. Approaching Elena, she looks a good bit tired. As she should be. He put in a lot of work fucking her guts out, even if it was a bit short lived. No matter, he has a feeling he’ll be doing that again.
Getting the restraints off of her is easy. She doesn’t recoil or fight or try to run away. Doesn’t fight him off or make a run for it. It makes him smile a good bit, it’s a nice feeling to know she trusts him so much. Picking her up bridal style, Trevor is very careful carrying her to the en suite. Squatting down, he places her gently in the warm, bubbly water. He can swear he sees a smile on her face.
Elena has always liked bath time, in the few days he’s had her. She’s capable of sitting up on her own and assisting with her own washing, thankfully, so there isn’t a lot he really has to do for her. But he wants to. He wants to help wash her and talk to her and try to bring her out of her own mind.
Suddenly, his phone vibrates on the sink next to the milking machine.
“Shit, don’t go anywhere,” he says with a little smirk as he stands up and walks to the sink. Elena seems to be watching him with her big brown eyes. There’s something about him that makes her truly comfortable, she really can’t deny it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know why. It’s becoming obvious to her that there’s something trying to claw out of her. Out of her mind, her throat, through her tongue.
Elena, the real Elena, the one before she became a sex slave, desperately wants to be freed. Not that she could ever communicate that to him, or to anyone else, really.
So what can she do besides enjoy her time in the bath?
Checking his phone, he finds an email from one of the FBI agents. What;s inside is rather intriguing.
Research has found these women were brainwashed through hypnotic videos and subliminal messaging. We’ve known this since before the warehouse was discovered, and thankfully we’ve finished a beta version of a hypnotic video and audio segment that may assist in undoing some of the damage. We will have different versions available and emailed to you keeps directly. Keep us updated on any results.
Well, that’s unexpected.
He downloads the video, figuring he’ll play it for her while he bathes her and gives her another round on the milking machine. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it’ll help bring the real Elena out. Getting a glimpse of her earlier, it was actually something gorgeous. Even if he might lose her eventually, he wants to help her as best he can.
Trevor hangs his phone on the faucet using his Popsocket, taking a few moments to load up the video and press play. His hand reaches for Elena’s head, gently turning her focus away from him and onto the phone across from her.
The video contains a lot of spiraling white lines on a black background. If he looks at it for too long, it hurts his eyes pretty severely. So he sits on his knees by the bathtub, flipping the switches on her milking machine and properly attaching the pumps once more. Making sure they’re on tight, he feels his cock twitching again as her nipples get suckled and her sweet cream begins to fill up the bottles.
Various words flash across the screen, so fast no one would really catch onto them unless they expected them to be there. As the spiral goes around and around in circles, Elena’s sole focus becomes staring at the video. For the first time, she’s useless during her bath. But somehow, Trevor expected that. If the videos are gonna work, she has to have her entire focus on them.
REMEMBER.
BREATHE.
UNLOCK YOUR MIND.
OPEN YOUR MIND.
RELAX YOUR BODY
INHALE.
WHO ARE YOU?
EXHALE.
The swirls reflect in Elena’s eyes as she stares. What is she supposed to remember? How does she unlock her mind? Who is she? As she watches, she realizes she’s being milked. And it feels so good, it’s such a relieving feeling. Hopefully she’ll be empty soon.
While she watches the video, Trevor goes about washing her body. He cleans under her breasts, scrubs her back, releases her ponytail and makes sure he washes her hair very well. Letting her get and stay dirty wouldn’t be good for her, especially considering the filthy conditions they found her in.
Next, he washes her cunt. Gently rubbing it and getting it clean, making sure his cum gets washed away properly. Every few moments, he gives her face a glance. She’s staring so intently at the video, barely blinking.
It’s kind of creepy.
But it becomes less creepy when he remembers this is something that’s going to help her. As he washes and rinses her, he continues to check on various things. Mostly her, making sure she’s okay, watching her face to make sure she’s still awake. Making sure Elena is still breathing, and glimpsing at the video.
It’s rather disorienting, hurts his eyes, so he doesn’t look at it very often or for long. Once she’s fully rinsed off, he turns the video off and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He’s realizing something, she hasn’t made a sexual advance at him the entire time he’d been washing her down!
“Hey! I guess we’re making progress after all, huh?” Trevor knows she can’t answer him. But he does like to talk to her when he does things to or for her. “Alright, let’s empty these bottles…” unlatching the bottles from the pump, he dumps them into the soapy water before dunking them underneath and gently washing them. He turns the faucet on to rinse them out properly, not sure about the proper care for such items, but, he’s doing his damned best at this job.
Yanking on the drain plug, he stands up to grab a towel, turning around and drying Elena’s hair, then her body as the water goes down lower and lower. He really cares for her, taking his time to make sure every possible inch of her body are properly dried out. Part of him seems to thrive in this caregiver role, though he never truly imagined himself in it.
Finally, to end the day, Trevor places her in a chair in the guest room while he replaces her messy sheets and blankets. It only takes a few minutes, but in that time, Trevor’s already received another email.
“Oh come on!” he cries out, wondering what new ‘research’ could exist in the hour he had her naked and soaped up. Taking a small break from replacing the sheets, Trevor opens up his phone to read this email.
Attached is a special set of hypnosis-reversing audio. Play one while she sleeps, play one when she wakes up, and play another whenever you must leave her completely alone in the home. They are labeled accordingly.
Okay, fine, but he still thinks that could have been put in the first email. He’s glad they have more things to help these girls, to help his Elena, but come on! Oh well. “Simple enough. Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Trevor gently lifts Elena bridal style once more and lays her on her back in her bed. One by one, he carefully places those nice leather restraints back onto her limbs. “Goodnight… Elena.”
“… Goodnight, Trevor.”
Trevor feels his eyes go rather wide. Did she..? “… you know my name?!” Progress! Progress is progress! And this, admittedly, is pretty damn good progress. The smile on his face widens as he moves to cover her up with the fresh blanket. “Yeah! Yeah, my name’s Trevor. I carried you out of that warehouse… you never wanted to leave my side. It took a lot to get you to sleep by yourself. A lot of screaming, a lot of crying, you know.”
But when he looks at Elena again, her eyes are blanked out like someone high on painkillers, and she doesn’t really response. Opening her mouth, as if waiting to take his cock into her mouth. He lets out a small sigh, reaching down to gently pat the back of her head, moving her ponytail a little bit. At least she’s doing a bit better now. With a sigh, he takes his phone out once more and starts streaming the sleep audio to the Bluetooth speaker in the guest room.
Hopefully, it does something.
Morning breaks and Trevor opens his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off on his phone. It had been a rather quiet night, one that had him sleep completely through it due to getting to blow a load in his Elena. He remembers it so vividly, he doubts he’ll ever forget it. Hopefully he gets to do it again. But, of course, he won’t force her.
If Elena gets all of her memories back, and doesn’t want to fuck him anymore, Trevor will be okay with that. He’s not a monster. The monsters are who he rescued her from, after all.
Their morning routine carries on as normal. He puts her in a new dress, but notices she’s being more helpful than usual. Actually putting her arms in the dress and smiling at him. Though she didn’t speak again, not her usual sentences or his name or telling him good morning like she said goodnight. Yet he notices those glimpses in her eyes, tiny little beacons of hope that tells Trevor someone is indeed inside of her head.
Hopefully one day, he gets to know her properly.
Elena had breakfast, and then Trevor decided to settle her on the couch. In her little pink dress, she looks rather cute. He can’t help but smile at her as much as possible. “Alright, we’re going to try that video again, on the big television…” once more, he knows she can’t or won’t respond to what he says, but he says it anyway. Humanizing her at every chance he gets. It makes him feel better about the entire situation.
Elena, however, gives a soft nod and a smile. It takes him back a little bit, but he returns the smile as he starts casting the video to his living room television. Just like last night, he can’t really look at the screen for too long. It hurts his head, his brain, too. Because he knows who he is. He knows to breathe.
The audio in the video, he’s realizing, is a low hum. It’s not too different from the warbled humming hypnosis audio he’d put on for her last night. Assuming he’d missed the sounds of the video the previous night because of the sounds of water and being so preoccupied with Elena’s washing and care, he’d tuned it out. It almost makes him feel weird to be hearing such noises.
But, he ignores his own discomfort, for her sake.
Nothing is about him right now, after all. It’s all about making her feel better. Getting her to remember. Blah, blah… blah.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee, Elena.” Trevor’s still trying to humanize her. The FBI agents haven’t said it helps, but it helps him feel better.
“I’ll have mine black.”
As he’s walking into his kitchen, he turns on his heel. She spoke?! Elena wants coffee?! Okay, maybe this video, those audios, are doing exactly what they thought. “Absolutely! One black coffee for you, one black coffee…”
While he walks into the kitchen with that smile plastered on his face, he repeats her words in his mind. Elena does have a gorgeous voice. Cackling a little as he sets the coffee pot to brew something strong, his phone once again vibrates and chimes with an email alert. This time, it’s not annoying. So long as he doesn’t get another one an hour later, with the same fucking information that could have been included in the first fucking one. Fuck.
We’ve discovered the women have been hypnotized in a manner that makes them addicted to semen. While this may seem unethical to most, we’re suggesting that if you are comfortable accepting sexual advances from the woman in your care, please do accept them. It will not harm them in any way, and in exposing them to semen in this safe environment, the symptoms of withdrawal in all aspects will fade alongside the reversal audios and videos. No adverse effects have been reported from this method of treatment. Benzodiazepines have been dropped off in your mailboxes to be administered after these events of sexual contact with the woman in your care, just to be on the safe side regarding adverse reactions.
Extremely unexpected, well, that would be an understatement. Cum addiction?! It explains a lot, actually. Elena had told him goodnight for the first time shortly after he came inside of her. His best assumption is any hole receiving cum has that effect on her. And to think, he had been apprehensive about taking her up on her passes at him. It could have been a way for him to help her this whole time!
“Well, today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” Trevor laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket as the coffee machine beeps. He takes his time to pour them both a good mug, making sure to keep hers black, loading his own down with lots of sugar and creamer.
Walking back into his living room, he happily passes off the mug to Elena. Her hands are a little shaky, but she manages to take it and take a nice, long gulp. It makes Trevor smile yet again as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. And just watches, since he can’t look at the television, watches the gorgeous woman as she drinks down her coffee.
“Glad to hear that you… you know, can say more than you used to. It’s quite nice, you do have a lovely voice.”
Elena doesn’t talk back to him, she simply sits there drinking her coffee.
“Do you like the name I gave you? Elena? I got it from a book I read when I was a kid. Can’t remember the name of it. But I always liked the name,” he muses a little bit as he takes a few drinks of his own coffee. “Rolls off of the tongue pretty well.”
Of course, she doesn’t say anything. Her deep brown eyes are focused on the television as she looks over her mug, seemingly inhaling the aroma in a rather needy fashion in between sips and drinks. Trevor wonders what she’s thinking about, if she’s thinking anything at all. Every few moments he gets those glimpses again, glimpses of someone being behind those glassed over eyes.
“Yeah, I used to read a lot…” he says while still watching her.
Finally, her lips part and her tongue flecks out. She’s gonna speak! Trevor’s on the edge of his seat, wondering what she might say to him. Something worthwhile. Something… impactful, a glimpse into who she really is. Something to help the agents find her family, perhaps?
“Please, please help me.”
Nope.
“Of course, I’ll always help you. That’s what I’m here for…” However, Trevor has another idea. Approaching Elena, he takes her coffee mug and places it with his on the coffee table. Sighing lowly, he gently eases the straps of her dress down. Out pops her gorgeous breasts, which aren’t quite leaking just yet. He can tell they’re engorged, though, and that she needs some more relief.
Taking the milking machine off of the coffee table, he’s once more rather gentle with applying it to her nipples. Turning it on, and letting the gentle suction start releasing the creamy fluid from her breasts.
“Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me yet, I got something else for you.”
Trevor figures the sounds from the video are a bit more important than the visual elements, considering the other clips he’d received. Still standing in front of her, his thumbs hook into his shorts and he pulls them down to his ankles. She has an addiction to cum, so she may have been asking for help in two different ways this whole time. Now he understands it, and he can truly help Elena how she needs it.
His cock is rather hard, having been hard from the moment he woke up. Frankly, he could have jerked himself off and been fine with it. But he figured he might get Elena to fuck him again, so he held out. And he’s rather glad he did, now that he knows how much it helps her. A lot of guys talk about wanting a woman addicted to their cum, but actually having a cum addicted woman? A totally different thing, completely novel to him. He’s fine with it, though. So long as he can make her better along the way.
Elena immediately knows what to do. Her hands, still warm from her delicious mug of coffee, wrap around his cock tenderly. Those big brown eyes stare up at him, the hum of the audio and the whir of the milking machine echoing in her ears. It feels so good, to be able to have her breasts milked, with a fresh dose of cum right in her face. All she has to do is work for it.
Her tongue comes out, gently lapping at the head of his cock. Trevor lets out a small groan, his toes curling a bit. It’s been a long time since he had sex before last night, but even longer since he got his cock sucked. And, gotten it sucked properly? Probably never.
“That’s it, good girl…” he muses down at her as Elena parts her lips and suckles the head of his cock right into her mouth. Those toes curl a bit harder against the carpeted floor, his head lazily tossing back, eyes lidding to allow him to fully enjoy all the sensations.
Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, or so Elena thinks. Maybe she even thought this before she became a sex slave. It’s hard to tell. Her mouth wraps tightly around his cock, her tongue lapping at the head as she starts to bob. Back and forth, taking down inch after inch of his cock. Pulling back to repeat the process, being steady with grinding her tongue against the underside of his shaft as she goes down further.
Groaning into the air, one of his hands moves to the back of her head, not pushing or pulling her movements, but resting there. Letting Elena know she’s doing an amazing job.
Elena swears she can smell his cum, the eagerness getting more intense in her stomach as she swallows down his precum. Just a taste of what she’s about to get. Bobbing her head back and forth, grinding her tongue against it, keeping her cheeks hollow, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Trevor speaks over the hum from the television and whir of the milking machine.
Somehow, Elena knows that already. But it doesn’t go to her head. Rather, she shifts her movements to start putting pressure on the entrance to her throat. Feeling her movements change, Trevor groans at the feeling of his head sinking in and out of that entrance. It absolutely amazing, his whole body starting to tense up as a knot forms in his stomach.
“Gonna make me cum, sweetheart, my darling Elena,” he warns her, before his palm goes flat on the back of her head, pushing her down in desperation. Trevor begins to buck his hips, sinking his cock into her throat until his balls slap against her chin.
Groaning, panting, all Trevor can do is thrust. Thrust his cock past the entrance of her throat, fuck her mouth while she wildly grinds her tongue against it. Looking down, he can so those big brown eyes are watering, and he fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck…” he moans out, his hand making a fist around her ponytail as he feels the knot in his stomach unraveling, feels his balls lurching upward, and the first hot rope of many shooting out and right into her stomach.
Elena moans loudly, as Trevor stops thrusting, she slams his cock as deep into her throat as she can get it, burying her nose in his pubic hair. She shakes her head, growling as she feels his hot, sticky seed shooting into her stomach. Elena’s throat muscles clench to swallow it down rapidly and keep from choking. Immediately, between the feeling of getting the milk out of her breasts and the cum being shot almost directly into her digestive track, she starts to feel much better.
The humming noises from the hypnosis track start to ring in her ears a bit heavier. Who is she? Where is she from? What was she trying to do when she got captured?
Shit.
As Trevor pulls his spent cock out of her mouth, Elena’s eyes flutter a good bit. She knows something, there’s something teetering on the edge of her brain and…
Her name is Miyuki. Miyuki Nakamura. She’s thirty one years old, and used to live in Seattle. Before she was taken as a sex slave, she had been investigating the people that took her. Miyuki used to work for the CIA, investigating heinous sex crimes, cyber crimes, and the worst of the worst society had to offer.
And she had been quite good at her job, on top of being a total bombshell when it came to her looks, she had been quite lethal. And effective in every job she had been given. Miyuki Nakamura never failed a mission.
Until she was taken captive.
And, even now, failure is no longer an option. Not just for her own revenge, but because she remembers how many other women are currently suffering. A lot of crucial information is coming back to her, information that even the FBI wouldn’t have just yet. Everything is flooding back to her mind and she thought it would have been more overwhelming than it actually is. Elena is processing it all properly, and she really needs to thank Trevor for that. There is so much she needs to thank him for…
Looking down at Elena, he sees a lot of flashes behind her eyes. Pulling his pants up, he stays hunched over to watch her and make sure she’s okay. It’s a little concerning, for a few moments Trevor worries that he may have overwhelmed her. Which isn’t what he wants. At all. “Wait right here,” he says as if the woman has the ability to leave this room.
He strides to his front door, yanking it open and approaching his mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a package in there and he snags it before dashing back inside and locking his front door properly. Something is happening to Elena, and he wants to make sure to keep her safe during it. The medication should, hopefully, help with that.
Carefully, he tears into the package and opens up the pill bottle. It’s Ativan, from what he can tell, and he’s heard it’s better than Xanax, so that’s a plus for sure. With a sigh, he gently places a pill on her tongue and returns her coffee cup to her hands. Elena manages to swallow the pill down without too much issue.
“Okay… you’re alright, yeah? Could be worse.” Trevor nods a bit as he retakes his seat next to her on the couch. Her face looks rather animated, like she’s actually thinking, feeling emotions, other than the pain of her intense brainwashing. It must have been so painful to go through, to have your mind so warped… shit, he can’t stop feeling awful for her. “I’m here for you, Elena.”
“My name is Miyuki Nakamura.”
Trevor blinks. Oh, shit, she just remembered her name. That’s fucking huge, and it brings yet another smile to his face. “Hi, Miyuki… not a bad name…”
“And I know who took me… I know who I am… I need your help. Please, please help me.”
Had she been asking for more intense help this whole time? Deeper than being milked and fed cum? Perhaps, but Trevor would rather not think about it. He made a promise to this woman, he swore he’d help her. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do. There’s no other option. Elena, err, Miyuki needs his assistance with something. That’s all he needs to hear. “Anything, anything at all.”
It’s just after midnight. Three days have passed since Miyuki Nakamura awoke from her brainwashing and conditioning. Things are different now. She’d told Trevor everything. That she used to work for the CIA, that she knew who took her, and that she can lead the SWAT team right to them.
She’d picked out her outfit. A black, shiny catsuit that hugs her insanely curvy body, and a pair of high heels that click and clack on the ground whenever she walks. She’d kept her hair in a ponytail, though. As Trevor was really onto something with that look being wonderful on her, as well as efficient.
It’s time for her revenge.
Miyuki led the swat team to a seemingly abandoned building just outside of Seattle, where she was originally from. However, she knows very well that this place is not abandoned. This place is hiding infinite secrets and she’s eager to shut it all down.
The sounds of her heels clicking on the floor echo in the building. Miyuki approaches a door on the main level, and moves a wooden panel to expose a keypad. She enters the pin.
8 9 2 4 9 0 2 8 9…
How could she ever forget that code? It’s embedded in her mind so heavily… she’ll never forget it. Nor will she forget the grin on her face when the door opened up, and the elevator chimed, and Miyuki Nakamura herself got to send in the SWAT team to go down and take them all out.
The SWAT raid resulted in three hundred arrests nationwide, and the liberation of thousands of sex slaves. During all of the chaos, however, Miyuki explained to Trevor that she had no family. No one, no children, no husband, her parents are dead and buried in Japan… she’s been a loner for quite some time, completely alone in the world and with no one to look out for her.
“The last time I’ve felt safe, truly safe,” Miyuki said as she and Trevor sit on his couch, where it all truly began for them, watching the news about the liberated women, all thanks to them both. “Was when you fucked me, when you had me tied down and you made me see stars.”
Shifting in his seat, he tries to hide his grin, focusing on the television. “I’m fond of you, too, Miyuki.”
“I’d like to remain your Elena, if you’re willing, I’d love to… be yours. And stay with you. Unless you would find it terrible and awkward.” Miyuki can’t help but giggle.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gives her a good squeeze. “You want to stay with me and get dominated every night, is that it?”
Leaning against him, she can’t help but exhale. “Yes. Please?”
“You don’t have to beg… not right now, at least. Unless…”
Miyuki places a hand on his chest, licking at her lips as she speaks. “Please, please help me.”
Trevor never anticipated his life would go this route.
Had you told him a week ago he’d be part of the SWAT team that liberated sex slaves from a local warehouse, he would have insisted that nothing like that would happen in his small town. That his position on the SWAT team is mostly through nepotism, and that he himself could never possibly do something so great for victims of a serious crime.
Trevor was wrong. Hilariously and humiliatingly so.
While he was called to a raid of a warehouse, he thought it would turn up absolutely nothing. But alas, the national media has been going insane with the findings. And in a lot of ways, he’s been promoted. Sort of.
The girl that he carried out of the warehouse, she seemed to cling to him. Refusing to speak to anyone but him, Which, he sort of took as a compliment. He never thought of himself as much, but he did something right. All he did was pick up the first woman he saw on the ground. He used his lock buster to get the chains off of her, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and then carried her to safety.
They still have no idea on who she is. Or any of the girls, minus three who were identified a few days ago. They’re the lucky ones, so people say. Yet the reality is that their families will not know what to do with them. Unfortunately, these women are a bit on the tainted side.
They’ve all been brainwashed into sex slavery.
A very complex type of brainwashing occurred. Not many people have any idea of how to combat it. The guys at the FBI are still working on it. But for Trevor, it’s all feeling a bit archaic. He was tasked with keeping the woman that attached herself to him. Because, what else were they supposed to do with the ones that attached themselves to the men who rescued them? Exactly. No one knew what to do, so those like Trevor got tasked with taking care of theirs.
Which is fine. He’d wanted to get, like, a Shih Tzu or a cat or something. Maybe some fish. The pay for this is good, at least. And all he has to do is stay home and protect her. Try to ease her mind into understanding she’s more than just a piece of meat.
The woman is rather gorgeous. Long black hair that Trevor brushes out and puts in a high ponytail, so that it gets dirty at a much slower rate. Porcelain skin with very few flaws or markings, given what the lady went through, he finds that rather surprising. Her eyes are a dark brown., when the light hits them properly, they look like delicate pools of honey.
However, he hasn’t get figured out how to get her to say her name. All she’s said thus far has been various things regarding pleasing him sexually. Which, for good reason, he’s turned down. There are lines someone shouldn’t cross, and Trevor is pretty sure taking advantage of a sex slave is one of those lines. Sure, he laughs at things he shouldn’t on the internet, but he’d still like to cross the pearly gates and dap Saint Peter up.
She’s Asian, she has huge natural breasts, and she’s lactating rather heavily. Other than that, and where he rescued her from, Trevor knows absolutely nothing else about her.
Every day, he gets new information on how to help her. He can submit concerns and inquiries to the FBI agents managing the case, and they’ve been fairly good about responding to him. However, today, he got a response he was not expecting.
In order to assist her with the issue of breast heaviness and prevent mastitis, we recommend milking her with either your hands or a breast pump. Or perhaps both, if she will allow you to touch her in such a way. Do let us know how this goes as it may assist the other women with lactation issues.
Well, shit.
He’s been calling her Elena. Not for any particular reason, it was just the first thing that came to mind when he realized he couldn’t keep calling her ‘woman’ or ‘ma’am’. It felt rude to him, since she’s living in his apartment now. Trevor rarely leaves her alone, so like everyone else in 2024, he ordered a breast pump from Amazon. He never thought he’d have videos on how to use such a thing in his YouTube history, yet, here he is, watching a video on how to properly use a breast pump.
The money’s worth it.
He keeps telling himself that.
Lately, though, her passes at him have gotten even more brazen. Elena began trying to take off his belt, and he wasn’t sure how to react. Wouldn’t taking advantage of her mental state be wrong? He doesn’t know what to do. As badly as he wants to keep his soul intact, he’s only human, he’s going to break down at some point. And he knows it.
Due to her tender condition, most of the time she spends is tied up. Trevor purchased a set of leather bondage restraints, they’re quite fancy. But this wasn’t really the use he had intended for them. It just sort of worked out that way.
With a tired look on his face, he walks into what used to be his guest bedroom. There Elena is, laying on her back on the bed in a pink night gown. The black restraints around her wrists and ankles are a stark contrast to her milky, porcelain skin.
“Please, please help me…”
It’s a common sentence from her. Trevor didn’t know exactly what she meant by that until he figured out she was begging for a milking. Apparently it can be quite painful for a woman’s breasts to get so full. If he had known that sooner, well, he could have helped her sooner. But, thankfully, no one expects him to be perfect in his care for her.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” he says softly, nodding his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes. Elena wiggles a little bit, but doesn’t fight her constraints. She hasn’t really fought him on much of anything since he had her. Aside from her sexual advances at him. Yet, looking at her now in those restraints, and how much heavier her bust has gotten, Trevor wonders briefly if his resolves will truly prevail.
“Alright,” Trevor moves forward, taking a seat next to her on the bed. She’s warm, that’s his first thought as he feels her thigh against his lower back. Her skin’s so soft, and she’s just… gorgeous. So unbelievably gorgeous and alluring.
Shaking the thoughts out of his mind, she speaks again.
“Please, please, please help me.”
Holding onto the milking machine in his hand, he grabs one of the pumps and turns himself around, getting onto the bed on his knees.
Looking over her breasts, he finds them without flaw. Her nipples look painfully hard, leaking a little bit in a last ditch effort to get some relief. He really feels awful he didn’t figure this out sooner, or ask about it. Holding onto the pump, he gently presses it to her right nipple. Elena wiggles a little, but seems to let out a deep sigh as she knows what is about to come for her.
Relief. Sweet, sweet breast relief.
Trevor flips the switch on the first pump, and Elena lets out a rather satisfied groan. Applying the second pump to her left breast, she makes the same noise. He watches rather eagerly as her nipples get suckled into the machine, and an off-white liquid seems to start filling up the little bottles attached.
It’s actually pretty hot.
Swallowing a little, he steps off of the bed and simply watches her. As the milking machine takes care of her breasts, suckling her nipples and releasing the sweet milk that had been building up in her for days. His eyes watch as she gets her relief, and he begins to feel something stirring in his pants.
Shit, he’s getting hard! Watching her grind her thighs together for friction, watching her wrists and ankles grind against the restraints, the look of pure contentment on her face. Trevor doesn’t know what to do.
But, what if, crossing that line could help Elena? If this is her normal, what she’s been brainwashed into, and if it’s her normal, what if that means he can replicate those steps to undo the brainwashing? Or… is that all just a thought to justify why he’s unbuckling his belt? Something to make him feel less bad about removing his shirt and stepping out of his pants. Significantly less guilt about hooking his thumbs in his boxers and yanking them down as he steps towards the bed.
His long cock is getting significantly harder the more he watches. Elena seems to be none the wiser at the moment as she continues to writhe and moan in relief. Maybe he had been apprehensive about this at first, but now it makes sense in his mind.
To undo the damage, he has to do the things that were done to Elena, but in a non-damaging way.
Sometimes he can be so stupid. The answer was right in front of him the whole time.
As he crawls onto the bed, Elena opens her eyes. When she sees a man crawling on top of her, she stops grinding her thighs together, instead spreading her legs and relaxing the bondage restraints on her ankles significantly. Her deep brown eyes stare up into his greens, and the moans of relief turn into ones of need.
While she doesn’t talk much outside of expressing her need of help with being milked, Elena keeps staring up at Trevor as he gets on his knees between her legs. His eyes flick from her gorgeous breasts being milked by the machine, and down to her cunt. It’s wet. Wetter than he’s ever seen a woman be. Lifting his hand, he has to touch it, reaching his hand down between her legs and gently feeling how soaked she is. He shivers at the feeling. Elena’s cunt is hot, it’s wet, and that delicate hole feels so tight despite all she had gone through.
Elena whimpers a little as Trevor moves his fingers up and down her cunt. Naturally, she’s ready to take a rather good pounding. As the machine continues to drain her breasts, she becomes aware of the other thing in the room that needs to be drained. Trevor’s balls.
How long has it been since he got laid? Far too long. His cock is now completely hard, a drip of precum leaks from his tip, his head flared and angry. Removing his fingers from the stroking motions of Elena’s sopping cunt, he uses her sweet slick to stroke his cock. Getting it nice and wet as he angles his needy head against her entrance.
Elena bites her lip a little bit, lifting her head up to look down. Just in time to watch that hard, thick prick sinking right into her hole. She whimpers again before letting out a low moan. “Yes…” she whispers the word, licking at her lips as she watches on. More and more of his cock slipping inside of her.
Trevor grabs onto the sheets for dear life, his head hanging low as he pants through his breaths. She’s so tight! It’s like trying to fuck a wet fist, or tucking a hallway into a hot dog.
He keeps moving, shifting his hips and pushing his entire cock inside of her. Not stopping until he can feel the head of his cock pressed against her cervix. If only he could go further… but she’s such a good fit, he’s so deep inside of her, he can feel her walls throbbing around his prick.
There was never a chance he was going to last very long, not his first time being with her. Pulling his hips back, he starts to give her sharp, deep thrusts. Pulling out of her completely feels impossible. He’s panting and groaning, jutting his cock into her over and over again, spearing his cock, prying her walls apart.
“Ah! Yes!” Elena cries out more, her wrists pulling on the restraints as her body starts to twitch and convulse a bit. Trevor can’t take it, he needs to feel those amazing, immaculate, delicious breasts for himself. Quickly, he yanks the pump off of her, letting it clatter to the floor. Her hefty bust is still leaking milk, but he doesn’t care.
Grabbing onto both of her tits, Trevor squeezes them hard, feeling an ooze of liquid against his hands. Fuck! It feels so good, sinking his cock in and out of her so deeply, battering at her cervix as her tit flesh bubbles around his fingers. Elena’s delicious milk leaks out against his hands, making a rather big wet mess underneath of her on the sheets. Fuck it, he can clean it up later.
Elena keeps looking up at Trevor as if he’s a saint. His cock feels so good hammering in and out of her pussy, his balls smacking against her ass. It’s all so familiar to her, yet it feels so much different than the other guys.
That’s when it hits her.
She’s not in the warehouse anymore!
When she blinks, it suddenly looks like there might be someone home in her head after all this time. Trevor lets out a gasp as he sees this, some guilt setting into the pit of his stomach, but it’s impossible for him to stop throttling his cock in and out of her snatch.
“A-Are you okay?!” He asks, but still can’t stop, rocking the bed with his thrusts. Making her breasts shake in his powerful grasp.
“Yes! Oh, yes! Yes!” Elena nods, unable to really say another word other than the affirmative.
“Okay… okay, good!”
Trevor still can’t stop. The way her pussy is starting to tighten up, he can bet she’s about to cum. A blush forms on her body and he can tell she’s heating up. He keeps his grip on her breasts tight, using her restrained body as leverage to fuck her with everything he has. Slapping his balls against her ass in stinging plaps, letting her juices coat his entire sex and dribble out onto the bed. Fuck it all, he’ll clean up after her during her next bath… which is probably going to be tonight, considering how much she’s sweating. It’s all his fault.
Elena writhes and gasps underneath of Trevor, her eyes closing tight and her whole body shaking as her cunt starts to throb more intensely against his cock. As if trying to suckle the cum from straight from his balls.
She really was trained wonderfully… but he shouldn’t be thinking like that! He does want to help her, it’s just hard to focus on helping her when his cock is being drained dry.
It only takes mere seconds more of slamming his cock in and out of her pussy before Trevor erupts inside of her. He hilts himself, grinding his balls against her ass as he tosses his head back and groans loudly. Spurt after hot spurt of sticky cum floods Elena’s throbbing canal. Painting her insides white as his sweat drips from his brow onto her, and the bed.
Huffing, panting, he releases his firm grip on her breasts, only to find they’re still leaking quite heavily. “Ah, shit, lemme…”
With a great air of reluctance, Trevor pulls himself out of Elena’s messy pussy, a trail of his cum following his cock out. Stumbling off of the bed a bit, he grabs the machine, standing on his shaky legs and leaning over her.
“Yes, please, help me.” Elena says, though her gaze is a bit more tired now. And once again, it looks like she’s not all there in the head. Shit, he hates seeing that look returning. But he’ll figure something out. He always does.
Placing the milking machine back onto each of her reddened breasts, he lets out a little laugh. “We’ll work on that some more later. Get some rest. I’m gonna get a shower…”
Trevor enjoyed his shower, but his mind was in a flurry of different thoughts. He’d been fucking Elena, and it looked like she had a spark when it happened. Was it possible he was right? Could having sex with her, could milking her, keeping her comfortable be the key to freeing her mind of her severe brainwashing?
It almost makes sense. To wake her up from her nightmare, he needs to be good to her. Different than her captors. He needs to prove he’s better than all of this shit she went through in the warehouse. So that she can be reunited with her family.
That’s always the end goal, right?
What if he doesn’t want her to go away? No, it’s for the best. Truthfully, he can’t babysit her forever. And it’s very likely she won’t want to stick around once she remembers everything. She’s somebody’s daughter, someone’s sister, perhaps even someone’s mother. People are looking for her, maybe in another country. More than likely, once she remembers who she is, he’s not gonna see his Elena again.
While it hurts, he knows that’s how it has to be. His job right now is to help her in every way he can.
After getting himself dressed in a pair of loose fitting shorts, Trevor went back to check on Elena. Knowing full well she herself needs a good bath. He found the bottles on the milking machine were almost overwhelmed with how much they got. So he took them to the kitchen, dumping them out and giving them a good wash.
Once he got the milking machine back into one piece, he placed it on the sink in the guest en suite. Approaching Elena, she looks a good bit tired. As she should be. He put in a lot of work fucking her guts out, even if it was a bit short lived. No matter, he has a feeling he’ll be doing that again.
Getting the restraints off of her is easy. She doesn’t recoil or fight or try to run away. Doesn’t fight him off or make a run for it. It makes him smile a good bit, it’s a nice feeling to know she trusts him so much. Picking her up bridal style, Trevor is very careful carrying her to the en suite. Squatting down, he places her gently in the warm, bubbly water. He can swear he sees a smile on her face.
Elena has always liked bath time, in the few days he’s had her. She’s capable of sitting up on her own and assisting with her own washing, thankfully, so there isn’t a lot he really has to do for her. But he wants to. He wants to help wash her and talk to her and try to bring her out of her own mind.
Suddenly, his phone vibrates on the sink next to the milking machine.
“Shit, don’t go anywhere,” he says with a little smirk as he stands up and walks to the sink. Elena seems to be watching him with her big brown eyes. There’s something about him that makes her truly comfortable, she really can’t deny it. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know why. It’s becoming obvious to her that there’s something trying to claw out of her. Out of her mind, her throat, through her tongue.
Elena, the real Elena, the one before she became a sex slave, desperately wants to be freed. Not that she could ever communicate that to him, or to anyone else, really.
So what can she do besides enjoy her time in the bath?
Checking his phone, he finds an email from one of the FBI agents. What;s inside is rather intriguing.
Research has found these women were brainwashed through hypnotic videos and subliminal messaging. We’ve known this since before the warehouse was discovered, and thankfully we’ve finished a beta version of a hypnotic video and audio segment that may assist in undoing some of the damage. We will have different versions available and emailed to you keeps directly. Keep us updated on any results.
Well, that’s unexpected.
He downloads the video, figuring he’ll play it for her while he bathes her and gives her another round on the milking machine. Maybe it’ll work, maybe it’ll help bring the real Elena out. Getting a glimpse of her earlier, it was actually something gorgeous. Even if he might lose her eventually, he wants to help her as best he can.
Trevor hangs his phone on the faucet using his Popsocket, taking a few moments to load up the video and press play. His hand reaches for Elena’s head, gently turning her focus away from him and onto the phone across from her.
The video contains a lot of spiraling white lines on a black background. If he looks at it for too long, it hurts his eyes pretty severely. So he sits on his knees by the bathtub, flipping the switches on her milking machine and properly attaching the pumps once more. Making sure they’re on tight, he feels his cock twitching again as her nipples get suckled and her sweet cream begins to fill up the bottles.
Various words flash across the screen, so fast no one would really catch onto them unless they expected them to be there. As the spiral goes around and around in circles, Elena’s sole focus becomes staring at the video. For the first time, she’s useless during her bath. But somehow, Trevor expected that. If the videos are gonna work, she has to have her entire focus on them.
REMEMBER.
BREATHE.
UNLOCK YOUR MIND.
OPEN YOUR MIND.
RELAX YOUR BODY
INHALE.
WHO ARE YOU?
EXHALE.
The swirls reflect in Elena’s eyes as she stares. What is she supposed to remember? How does she unlock her mind? Who is she? As she watches, she realizes she’s being milked. And it feels so good, it’s such a relieving feeling. Hopefully she’ll be empty soon.
While she watches the video, Trevor goes about washing her body. He cleans under her breasts, scrubs her back, releases her ponytail and makes sure he washes her hair very well. Letting her get and stay dirty wouldn’t be good for her, especially considering the filthy conditions they found her in.
Next, he washes her cunt. Gently rubbing it and getting it clean, making sure his cum gets washed away properly. Every few moments, he gives her face a glance. She’s staring so intently at the video, barely blinking.
It’s kind of creepy.
But it becomes less creepy when he remembers this is something that’s going to help her. As he washes and rinses her, he continues to check on various things. Mostly her, making sure she’s okay, watching her face to make sure she’s still awake. Making sure Elena is still breathing, and glimpsing at the video.
It’s rather disorienting, hurts his eyes, so he doesn’t look at it very often or for long. Once she’s fully rinsed off, he turns the video off and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. He’s realizing something, she hasn’t made a sexual advance at him the entire time he’d been washing her down!
“Hey! I guess we’re making progress after all, huh?” Trevor knows she can’t answer him. But he does like to talk to her when he does things to or for her. “Alright, let’s empty these bottles…” unlatching the bottles from the pump, he dumps them into the soapy water before dunking them underneath and gently washing them. He turns the faucet on to rinse them out properly, not sure about the proper care for such items, but, he’s doing his damned best at this job.
Yanking on the drain plug, he stands up to grab a towel, turning around and drying Elena’s hair, then her body as the water goes down lower and lower. He really cares for her, taking his time to make sure every possible inch of her body are properly dried out. Part of him seems to thrive in this caregiver role, though he never truly imagined himself in it.
Finally, to end the day, Trevor places her in a chair in the guest room while he replaces her messy sheets and blankets. It only takes a few minutes, but in that time, Trevor’s already received another email.
“Oh come on!” he cries out, wondering what new ‘research’ could exist in the hour he had her naked and soaped up. Taking a small break from replacing the sheets, Trevor opens up his phone to read this email.
Attached is a special set of hypnosis-reversing audio. Play one while she sleeps, play one when she wakes up, and play another whenever you must leave her completely alone in the home. They are labeled accordingly.
Okay, fine, but he still thinks that could have been put in the first email. He’s glad they have more things to help these girls, to help his Elena, but come on! Oh well. “Simple enough. Okay. Let’s get you back into bed.”
Trevor gently lifts Elena bridal style once more and lays her on her back in her bed. One by one, he carefully places those nice leather restraints back onto her limbs. “Goodnight… Elena.”
“… Goodnight, Trevor.”
Trevor feels his eyes go rather wide. Did she..? “… you know my name?!” Progress! Progress is progress! And this, admittedly, is pretty damn good progress. The smile on his face widens as he moves to cover her up with the fresh blanket. “Yeah! Yeah, my name’s Trevor. I carried you out of that warehouse… you never wanted to leave my side. It took a lot to get you to sleep by yourself. A lot of screaming, a lot of crying, you know.”
But when he looks at Elena again, her eyes are blanked out like someone high on painkillers, and she doesn’t really response. Opening her mouth, as if waiting to take his cock into her mouth. He lets out a small sigh, reaching down to gently pat the back of her head, moving her ponytail a little bit. At least she’s doing a bit better now. With a sigh, he takes his phone out once more and starts streaming the sleep audio to the Bluetooth speaker in the guest room.
Hopefully, it does something.
Morning breaks and Trevor opens his eyes to the sound of his alarm going off on his phone. It had been a rather quiet night, one that had him sleep completely through it due to getting to blow a load in his Elena. He remembers it so vividly, he doubts he’ll ever forget it. Hopefully he gets to do it again. But, of course, he won’t force her.
If Elena gets all of her memories back, and doesn’t want to fuck him anymore, Trevor will be okay with that. He’s not a monster. The monsters are who he rescued her from, after all.
Their morning routine carries on as normal. He puts her in a new dress, but notices she’s being more helpful than usual. Actually putting her arms in the dress and smiling at him. Though she didn’t speak again, not her usual sentences or his name or telling him good morning like she said goodnight. Yet he notices those glimpses in her eyes, tiny little beacons of hope that tells Trevor someone is indeed inside of her head.
Hopefully one day, he gets to know her properly.
Elena had breakfast, and then Trevor decided to settle her on the couch. In her little pink dress, she looks rather cute. He can’t help but smile at her as much as possible. “Alright, we’re going to try that video again, on the big television…” once more, he knows she can’t or won’t respond to what he says, but he says it anyway. Humanizing her at every chance he gets. It makes him feel better about the entire situation.
Elena, however, gives a soft nod and a smile. It takes him back a little bit, but he returns the smile as he starts casting the video to his living room television. Just like last night, he can’t really look at the screen for too long. It hurts his head, his brain, too. Because he knows who he is. He knows to breathe.
The audio in the video, he’s realizing, is a low hum. It’s not too different from the warbled humming hypnosis audio he’d put on for her last night. Assuming he’d missed the sounds of the video the previous night because of the sounds of water and being so preoccupied with Elena’s washing and care, he’d tuned it out. It almost makes him feel weird to be hearing such noises.
But, he ignores his own discomfort, for her sake.
Nothing is about him right now, after all. It’s all about making her feel better. Getting her to remember. Blah, blah… blah.
“I’m gonna grab some coffee, Elena.” Trevor’s still trying to humanize her. The FBI agents haven’t said it helps, but it helps him feel better.
“I’ll have mine black.”
As he’s walking into his kitchen, he turns on his heel. She spoke?! Elena wants coffee?! Okay, maybe this video, those audios, are doing exactly what they thought. “Absolutely! One black coffee for you, one black coffee…”
While he walks into the kitchen with that smile plastered on his face, he repeats her words in his mind. Elena does have a gorgeous voice. Cackling a little as he sets the coffee pot to brew something strong, his phone once again vibrates and chimes with an email alert. This time, it’s not annoying. So long as he doesn’t get another one an hour later, with the same fucking information that could have been included in the first fucking one. Fuck.
We’ve discovered the women have been hypnotized in a manner that makes them addicted to semen. While this may seem unethical to most, we’re suggesting that if you are comfortable accepting sexual advances from the woman in your care, please do accept them. It will not harm them in any way, and in exposing them to semen in this safe environment, the symptoms of withdrawal in all aspects will fade alongside the reversal audios and videos. No adverse effects have been reported from this method of treatment. Benzodiazepines have been dropped off in your mailboxes to be administered after these events of sexual contact with the woman in your care, just to be on the safe side regarding adverse reactions.
Extremely unexpected, well, that would be an understatement. Cum addiction?! It explains a lot, actually. Elena had told him goodnight for the first time shortly after he came inside of her. His best assumption is any hole receiving cum has that effect on her. And to think, he had been apprehensive about taking her up on her passes at him. It could have been a way for him to help her this whole time!
“Well, today’s full of surprises, isn’t it?” Trevor laughs to himself, tucking his phone into his pocket as the coffee machine beeps. He takes his time to pour them both a good mug, making sure to keep hers black, loading his own down with lots of sugar and creamer.
Walking back into his living room, he happily passes off the mug to Elena. Her hands are a little shaky, but she manages to take it and take a nice, long gulp. It makes Trevor smile yet again as he takes a seat on the couch next to her. And just watches, since he can’t look at the television, watches the gorgeous woman as she drinks down her coffee.
“Glad to hear that you… you know, can say more than you used to. It’s quite nice, you do have a lovely voice.”
Elena doesn’t talk back to him, she simply sits there drinking her coffee.
“Do you like the name I gave you? Elena? I got it from a book I read when I was a kid. Can’t remember the name of it. But I always liked the name,” he muses a little bit as he takes a few drinks of his own coffee. “Rolls off of the tongue pretty well.”
Of course, she doesn’t say anything. Her deep brown eyes are focused on the television as she looks over her mug, seemingly inhaling the aroma in a rather needy fashion in between sips and drinks. Trevor wonders what she’s thinking about, if she’s thinking anything at all. Every few moments he gets those glimpses again, glimpses of someone being behind those glassed over eyes.
“Yeah, I used to read a lot…” he says while still watching her.
Finally, her lips part and her tongue flecks out. She’s gonna speak! Trevor’s on the edge of his seat, wondering what she might say to him. Something worthwhile. Something… impactful, a glimpse into who she really is. Something to help the agents find her family, perhaps?
“Please, please help me.”
Nope.
“Of course, I’ll always help you. That’s what I’m here for…” However, Trevor has another idea. Approaching Elena, he takes her coffee mug and places it with his on the coffee table. Sighing lowly, he gently eases the straps of her dress down. Out pops her gorgeous breasts, which aren’t quite leaking just yet. He can tell they’re engorged, though, and that she needs some more relief.
Taking the milking machine off of the coffee table, he’s once more rather gentle with applying it to her nipples. Turning it on, and letting the gentle suction start releasing the creamy fluid from her breasts.
“Thank you…”
“Don’t thank me yet, I got something else for you.”
Trevor figures the sounds from the video are a bit more important than the visual elements, considering the other clips he’d received. Still standing in front of her, his thumbs hook into his shorts and he pulls them down to his ankles. She has an addiction to cum, so she may have been asking for help in two different ways this whole time. Now he understands it, and he can truly help Elena how she needs it.
His cock is rather hard, having been hard from the moment he woke up. Frankly, he could have jerked himself off and been fine with it. But he figured he might get Elena to fuck him again, so he held out. And he’s rather glad he did, now that he knows how much it helps her. A lot of guys talk about wanting a woman addicted to their cum, but actually having a cum addicted woman? A totally different thing, completely novel to him. He’s fine with it, though. So long as he can make her better along the way.
Elena immediately knows what to do. Her hands, still warm from her delicious mug of coffee, wrap around his cock tenderly. Those big brown eyes stare up at him, the hum of the audio and the whir of the milking machine echoing in her ears. It feels so good, to be able to have her breasts milked, with a fresh dose of cum right in her face. All she has to do is work for it.
Her tongue comes out, gently lapping at the head of his cock. Trevor lets out a small groan, his toes curling a bit. It’s been a long time since he had sex before last night, but even longer since he got his cock sucked. And, gotten it sucked properly? Probably never.
“That’s it, good girl…” he muses down at her as Elena parts her lips and suckles the head of his cock right into her mouth. Those toes curl a bit harder against the carpeted floor, his head lazily tossing back, eyes lidding to allow him to fully enjoy all the sensations.
Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, or so Elena thinks. Maybe she even thought this before she became a sex slave. It’s hard to tell. Her mouth wraps tightly around his cock, her tongue lapping at the head as she starts to bob. Back and forth, taking down inch after inch of his cock. Pulling back to repeat the process, being steady with grinding her tongue against the underside of his shaft as she goes down further.
Groaning into the air, one of his hands moves to the back of her head, not pushing or pulling her movements, but resting there. Letting Elena know she’s doing an amazing job.
Elena swears she can smell his cum, the eagerness getting more intense in her stomach as she swallows down his precum. Just a taste of what she’s about to get. Bobbing her head back and forth, grinding her tongue against it, keeping her cheeks hollow, looking up at him with those big brown eyes.
“You’re perfect,” Trevor speaks over the hum from the television and whir of the milking machine.
Somehow, Elena knows that already. But it doesn’t go to her head. Rather, she shifts her movements to start putting pressure on the entrance to her throat. Feeling her movements change, Trevor groans at the feeling of his head sinking in and out of that entrance. It absolutely amazing, his whole body starting to tense up as a knot forms in his stomach.
“Gonna make me cum, sweetheart, my darling Elena,” he warns her, before his palm goes flat on the back of her head, pushing her down in desperation. Trevor begins to buck his hips, sinking his cock into her throat until his balls slap against her chin.
Groaning, panting, all Trevor can do is thrust. Thrust his cock past the entrance of her throat, fuck her mouth while she wildly grinds her tongue against it. Looking down, he can so those big brown eyes are watering, and he fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Fuck… fuck…” he moans out, his hand making a fist around her ponytail as he feels the knot in his stomach unraveling, feels his balls lurching upward, and the first hot rope of many shooting out and right into her stomach.
Elena moans loudly, as Trevor stops thrusting, she slams his cock as deep into her throat as she can get it, burying her nose in his pubic hair. She shakes her head, growling as she feels his hot, sticky seed shooting into her stomach. Elena’s throat muscles clench to swallow it down rapidly and keep from choking. Immediately, between the feeling of getting the milk out of her breasts and the cum being shot almost directly into her digestive track, she starts to feel much better.
The humming noises from the hypnosis track start to ring in her ears a bit heavier. Who is she? Where is she from? What was she trying to do when she got captured?
Shit.
As Trevor pulls his spent cock out of her mouth, Elena’s eyes flutter a good bit. She knows something, there’s something teetering on the edge of her brain and…
Her name is Miyuki. Miyuki Nakamura. She’s thirty one years old, and used to live in Seattle. Before she was taken as a sex slave, she had been investigating the people that took her. Miyuki used to work for the CIA, investigating heinous sex crimes, cyber crimes, and the worst of the worst society had to offer.
And she had been quite good at her job, on top of being a total bombshell when it came to her looks, she had been quite lethal. And effective in every job she had been given. Miyuki Nakamura never failed a mission.
Until she was taken captive.
And, even now, failure is no longer an option. Not just for her own revenge, but because she remembers how many other women are currently suffering. A lot of crucial information is coming back to her, information that even the FBI wouldn’t have just yet. Everything is flooding back to her mind and she thought it would have been more overwhelming than it actually is. Elena is processing it all properly, and she really needs to thank Trevor for that. There is so much she needs to thank him for…
Looking down at Elena, he sees a lot of flashes behind her eyes. Pulling his pants up, he stays hunched over to watch her and make sure she’s okay. It’s a little concerning, for a few moments Trevor worries that he may have overwhelmed her. Which isn’t what he wants. At all. “Wait right here,” he says as if the woman has the ability to leave this room.
He strides to his front door, yanking it open and approaching his mailbox. Sure enough, there’s a package in there and he snags it before dashing back inside and locking his front door properly. Something is happening to Elena, and he wants to make sure to keep her safe during it. The medication should, hopefully, help with that.
Carefully, he tears into the package and opens up the pill bottle. It’s Ativan, from what he can tell, and he’s heard it’s better than Xanax, so that’s a plus for sure. With a sigh, he gently places a pill on her tongue and returns her coffee cup to her hands. Elena manages to swallow the pill down without too much issue.
“Okay… you’re alright, yeah? Could be worse.” Trevor nods a bit as he retakes his seat next to her on the couch. Her face looks rather animated, like she’s actually thinking, feeling emotions, other than the pain of her intense brainwashing. It must have been so painful to go through, to have your mind so warped… shit, he can’t stop feeling awful for her. “I’m here for you, Elena.”
“My name is Miyuki Nakamura.”
Trevor blinks. Oh, shit, she just remembered her name. That’s fucking huge, and it brings yet another smile to his face. “Hi, Miyuki… not a bad name…”
“And I know who took me… I know who I am… I need your help. Please, please help me.”
Had she been asking for more intense help this whole time? Deeper than being milked and fed cum? Perhaps, but Trevor would rather not think about it. He made a promise to this woman, he swore he’d help her. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do. There’s no other option. Elena, err, Miyuki needs his assistance with something. That’s all he needs to hear. “Anything, anything at all.”
It’s just after midnight. Three days have passed since Miyuki Nakamura awoke from her brainwashing and conditioning. Things are different now. She’d told Trevor everything. That she used to work for the CIA, that she knew who took her, and that she can lead the SWAT team right to them.
She’d picked out her outfit. A black, shiny catsuit that hugs her insanely curvy body, and a pair of high heels that click and clack on the ground whenever she walks. She’d kept her hair in a ponytail, though. As Trevor was really onto something with that look being wonderful on her, as well as efficient.
It’s time for her revenge.
Miyuki led the swat team to a seemingly abandoned building just outside of Seattle, where she was originally from. However, she knows very well that this place is not abandoned. This place is hiding infinite secrets and she’s eager to shut it all down.
The sounds of her heels clicking on the floor echo in the building. Miyuki approaches a door on the main level, and moves a wooden panel to expose a keypad. She enters the pin.
8 9 2 4 9 0 2 8 9…
How could she ever forget that code? It’s embedded in her mind so heavily… she’ll never forget it. Nor will she forget the grin on her face when the door opened up, and the elevator chimed, and Miyuki Nakamura herself got to send in the SWAT team to go down and take them all out.
The SWAT raid resulted in three hundred arrests nationwide, and the liberation of thousands of sex slaves. During all of the chaos, however, Miyuki explained to Trevor that she had no family. No one, no children, no husband, her parents are dead and buried in Japan… she’s been a loner for quite some time, completely alone in the world and with no one to look out for her.
“The last time I’ve felt safe, truly safe,” Miyuki said as she and Trevor sit on his couch, where it all truly began for them, watching the news about the liberated women, all thanks to them both. “Was when you fucked me, when you had me tied down and you made me see stars.”
Shifting in his seat, he tries to hide his grin, focusing on the television. “I’m fond of you, too, Miyuki.”
“I’d like to remain your Elena, if you’re willing, I’d love to… be yours. And stay with you. Unless you would find it terrible and awkward.” Miyuki can’t help but giggle.
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he gives her a good squeeze. “You want to stay with me and get dominated every night, is that it?”
Leaning against him, she can’t help but exhale. “Yes. Please?”
“You don’t have to beg… not right now, at least. Unless…”
Miyuki places a hand on his chest, licking at her lips as she speaks. “Please, please help me.”
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In a distant future, women are trained to be sex slaves and bought by wealthy men through Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. Follow the tale of Rinata, and her first experience with her husband, the man that paid for her and left her clear rules for his expectations.
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
The world is an almost abysmal dystopia of neon lights and salesmen now. The glow of the sun is barely missed when nightfall comes around, the world being bathed not only in reflective moon rays but in the new moon created through neon tubes. A world covered in cables was never wired to last. But the world is not yet over, things are not dead.
On the contrary, the landscape is a bustling metropolis. For some it’s a nightmare, and for others it’s the dream. If you can look past people begging for money on the streets and others trying to sell you a magical capsule to cure your common cold, or a new implant for your arm of course.
Matchmaking Lovers, Inc. is a large company. Anyone can walk into a business and see their advertisements on vending machine screens. The company takes girls off the streets, cleans them up, and gives them a shot to be somebody in this ever changing society.
Or, at the very least, married to a somebody.
This tends to be the case more often than not. Rinata Soumova had expected this, she didn’t think she’d end up as more than a trophy wife. A gorgeous piece of decor for a man to show off at parties. A way for him to look like a family man to potential clients in whatever lucrative business he was a part of. But she’s been shocked.
Damon Moore is not that type of man. He’s devilishly handsome, of course he is. Dirty blonde hair cut neatly, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build. But he’s also smart. He doesn’t just see this as an arranged marriage that he paid for, no, not at all. Damon sees this as a partnership of sorts. While this woman may be ‘beneath’ him, she’s beneath him in the way a junior-level employee is to a senior-level employee.
The house he lives in is more humble than one would expect from a man like him. While most people of his level in life live in rather expensive mansions, siphoning up the city’s limited resources, Damon’s home is small compared to the rest of his comrades. Only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and the kitchen is just a tad on the small side.
Ignoring the pool in the backyard, it’s an average house you’d see one of his own employees owning.
Rinata thought it was a bit strange when she first arrived. It wasn’t what she expected, yet not in a disappointing way. Imagining a mansion so large they’d have to send a search party for her was not fun. It was part of what she anticipated, but upon arrival, relief washed over her at the home the man who purchased her as his bride was possibly level-headed.
Although she’s been at the home, her new home, the home she shall share with her husband for three days. Three days without meeting him. It’s unfortunate her ‘delivery’ date was scheduled during a trip he had to take for work.
In so many ways, she’s grateful for this, though. It’s given her time to adapt to the environment. To get comfortable with the laundry list of expectations and understand what Damon expects of her. Things he likes, things he’ll expect of her sexually. Rinata believes her husband might be a rather easy man to please.
Things he listed as vital are already things Rinata enjoys. The black leather collar with a heart shaped hook has only left her neck three times since her arrival… and that was to shower. Rinata has found this color looks good on her, an arousing clash to her lightly olived skin.
The second closet in the master bedroom was filled with clothes, too. Mostly… jeans. It was how Rinata learned Damon has a thing for denim, and she embraced it. Honestly, she isn’t sure she ever owned an actual pair of jeans in her entire life up until now. But she likes them. She likes the way the fabric holds onto her skin, perking that bubble butt up significantly more and making her hips and thighs look more like a buffet than ever.
Rain gives a pitter patter effect on the roof. It’s a cold, muggy day. Dreary, making the neon a faded and blurry mess as it shines through the watery fog. Inside the house, it’s warm. The fireplace crackles with the sound of dry wood being roasted. Rinata even threw in a few pine cones. It’s a simple pleasure, watching them slowly turn orange. Into fiery skeletons before the ashen petals start to crumble away and fall to the bottom.
How fitting is it that the sun disappears when Damon is due home? Silently as she sits on the sofa with a glass of wine in her hand, Rinata hopes and prays this isn’t an omen for the relationship ahead. But how could it be? While he may not seem excited based on the few notes he’d left her, the truth is Damon Moore is in nothing but bliss at what he knows he gets to come home to.
A gorgeous woman.
Devoted to him, and only him.
He’s seen her pictures. Of course he has. Would be really stupid to buy a wife without seeing what she looks like, right? Matchmaking Lovers Inc. pairs men with brides based on personality, lifestyle wishes, and aesthetic pleasure. If a couple will look good together, it matters to the company. It reflects back on them as a business. And in this world of the neon moon, image is damn near anything to keep the money flowing.
The front door alarm makes a few beeps, the sound of numbers being hit on a keypad signals his arrival. Damon’s returned home at long last. And though he carries himself with an air of indifference, his heart is pounding at what he knows is waiting for him inside.
Rinata stands up from the couch, killing down the rest of the Merlot in her glass. Her bare feet patter on the floors as she scrambles into the kitchen to place the glass in the sink. Once the dish is where it belongs, then she trots into the hallway. A deep breath gets sucked into her lungs.
Making it to the hallway before Damon gets the door open, he’s met with such a gorgeous sight.
Rinata in her color. A pair of dark blue denim jeans clinging to her hips, tightly roaming over her thighs and down those dream-worthy legs. And her torso completely bare, showing off her somewhat small by societal standards, yet absolutely gorgeous breasts.
Most importantly is the smile on her face as she stands there with her hands clasped behind her back. Damon had not been expecting the woman to be happy to see him. He isn’t sure why he made such an assumption, though. Rinata already looks like she’s on cloud nine and he hasn’t even closed the door yet.
When the door finally closes, James sets his luggage down and starts slipping his feet out of his shoes. No need to carry anything, one of the maids will handle it… do the maids come today? Traveling disorients him pretty easily, he could think it’s Friday but it’s Tuesday and he’s missed something important.
But nothing’s more important than Rinata right now. Their eyes stay locked as he kicks his shoes to the side. The young woman can feel her heart beating in her chest, pounding against her rib cage as he takes slow steps towards her.
“Even more breathtaking than your photos,” Damon insists as a smile crosses over his lips.
Rinata can’t help but blush. “Thank you… not a slouch yourself. Not what I expected.”
Damon is still walking towards her, but his smile deepens. “I’d hate to know what you expected, then. It might offend me, huh?”
Smiling, Rinata gives a nod. “More than likely, actually.”
“Lucky for us both, I expected you to be gorgeous. And you are.”
Finally, Damon’s close enough to touch her, looking down into her eyes, blue meeting blue. His right hand raises up slowly, brushing some of her brown hair to the side. Not only is he finding she’s fucking gorgeous, but she smells like pure heaven as well. A sweet vanilla-mint scent of perfume, with the musky scent of her body wash, and the faintest hint of lavender from her hair.
All scents he had picked out himself, of course. He made sure the bathroom was stocked with whatever she could need, but made sure to tailor it to what translated the best to his own tastes. Just… more feminine, of course. No need for him to smell half as good as she did, either.
But that being said, Damon did smell good. A musky, floral cologne wafted off of his body and into Rinata’s senses, invigorating her as they stood there in the hallway coming off the foyer.
He leans down, pressing a kiss to her lips. Rinata, almost hungrily, returns the kiss, her hands going to gently rest on his chest.
Before she joined the matchmaking company, as they liked to present themselves in lieu of admitting it’s slavery with benefits for the girls involved, Rinata was not a very happy woman. Her life was rough, it’s rough being the child of immigrants anyway.
But her home life was terrible. Plagued with alcoholism, her parents were either neglectful on a good day, or down right evil and abusive on a bad day. Often times, the girl was forced to fend for herself. Eating whatever and whenever she could, which amounted to scraps and not very often. Hemming her own clothes and doing repairs to keep the household running as smoothly as possible.
Rinata Soumova grew up before she was ready, as do most girls in this business.
And she saw this as her chance to finally be safe. If she plays her cards right, if she keeps her owner-husband happy? She just might make it out alive on the other side. It also helps, of course, that Damon appears kind. That he’s handsome and seems to truly care about her already. At least enough to sweet talk her and give her compliments. When, oh so very clearly, he doesn’t have to. Not when he already paid for her. He owns her. There’s no need for the frills and the attempts at wooing her. Rinata is already fully swooned and in love by the legal definitions of such.
Yet he’s still kissing her sweetly. Their lips meet and it feels like electricity is crackling in their veins. Damon lets out a low sigh, as if the tension of his business trip is melting away just from one simple kiss. Perhaps he’s a more simple man than either of them thought.
The kissing gradually heats up. Rinata welcomes Damon’s tongue into her mouth and suckles on it a little bit while her hands continue to roam his chest. Though she finds his clothes are getting in the way. Clothes are such tedious things, aren’t they? First, her hands slip to his tie.
The standard tie knot is easy enough to undo, her lightly manicured fingers work the knot out and sling the item to the floor. At this moment it becomes clear that Rinata, the slave-wife he paid for, is more hungry for their first time as husband and wife than Damon is.
He groans as he starts to force Rinata to walk backwards, reversing the position of their tongues until hers is in his mouth. Damon suckles on her tongue in turn, lips still moving together as his hands rest on those hips. Those fingers on denim, and on milky, soft flesh.
He continues to walk her backwards during the heated kissing. Content to keep her in those jeans for as long as possible, adoring the way they hug her form just right.
Rinata wants Damon out of those clothes as fast as possible. Her slender fingers work the buttons of his shirt open, moving downward quickly as her feet start to walk backwards up the stars. How badly she craves him, the urge to please the man saving her from a life of squalor is intense. Inside of those jeans, Rinata’s panties are getting quite wet. Soaking the pink fabric as the duo take turns sucking each other’s tongues.
Damon is careful with Rinata now, walking her backwards up the stairs, guiding her as much as he can without being able to see where either of them are really going. Though, Damon is more than aware of his destination with her.
The bedroom. Their bedroom.
In the middle of the stair-walk, Rinata finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and helps his shoulders shrug out of the fabric. It hits the floor, a trail of his work attire leaving making a line towards the bedroom.
Her hands once again go to roam at his chest, it’s bare now and she shivers a moan into the kiss at the feeling of muscles. He’s rather toned, sculpted like a true God among men. It does nothing but make the wetness in her panties more significant.
Rinata is fully aware she hit every possible jackpot when Damon chose her.
Finally at the top of the stairs, Rinata works off his belt, tossing it away as she quickly unbuttons his pants. His new slave-wife is hungry for him, starved for more. Desperately needing to taste what she has been missing in her life. It’s hard to know exactly what you’ve been missing until it’s right in front of you. Until that special something has a collar around your neck and his tongue in your mouth.
Damon hooks his thumbs in his slacks, pulling away from the kiss for the first time since the hallway so he can pull the garment down and step out of it in tandem with his boxers. The faint blue glow of the hallway light, how it catches Rinata’s skin. For a brief moment, Damon thinks she looks purely angelic.
Maybe she is. He knows very little of her background. Rinata could have fallen from heaven and landed in his life for all he knows. He likes that thought. His own little angel to turn into a devil, a demon of pleasure, his personal succubus.
To Damon, she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. Now, and forever.
Rinata grabs his wrist, all but running with him the rest of the way to the bedroom. A similar light radiates, and Damon will find not only is the bed made but the room is as spotless as he left it. Not a housekeeper by any standards, but Rinata found it important to keep his space clean. A good way to assure he would want to keep her around.
Aside from her sexiness in those jeans.
Before Damon can compliment, or even process the state Rinata has kept their bedroom in, the young woman of Russian heritage is sinking down onto her knees in front of him. This makes his jaw drop for a moment, before he can process what it means. He’s taken aback at the concept of a woman on her knees for him before he even has to ask. There was no suggestion to it.
She simply moved almost based on his thoughts and his thoughts alone.
Once on her knees, sinking those knees hidden behind dark denim into the carpeted floor, her hands wrap around his cock. For a second, she simply stares at it, marveling at the glorious piece of meat she’s found herself married to.
“Don’t be afraid to teach me how you like having your cock sucked, Sir,” Rinata speaks, her voice as melodic and honey coated as it had been in the hallway.
Damon gives a nod, his hands moving to bunch the brown hair up and out of that gorgeous face. She has a lot of hair, soft in his hands, but he manages to keep it out of her way using one hand placed on the back of her head.
“Lick me first,” Damon instructs her with a soft nod.
Rinata doesn’t even have to think about it. That pink muscle parts her lips and immediately goes to the head of his cock. She laps at it softly, slowly letting her tongue circle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Damon groans, his eyes closing as his head falls back, content noises leaving his throat.
Rinata continues licking his cock, wrapping her tongue around his head before she removes a hand, letting it travel further downward to cup his balls gently, sweetly, with a delicate squeeze. Pain was not the goal, after all… unless he requested it.
“Fuck…” Damon cursed as he felt his breath hitch in his throat.
Her tongue continued to travel along his cock. Down his base, wrapping around it as much as she could, before pulling back up to circle his head. Coating his fuck stick with her saliva happily. His taste was salty, musky, clean, and ultimately delicious. Sucking cock is one of life’s few pleasures, after all. Rinata is enjoying every second of it.
“Suck me, baby,” Damon instructs next. Not that her tongue isn’t absolutely amazing. But he wants to explore more of her, he needs to feel those lips on his cock.
Rinata nods. “Yes, Sir.”
Those pink lips part happily, a soft moan escaping as they wrap around the head of his cock. Once more that tongue because lashing at the tip, causing another deep groan to fall from Damon’s mouth. Rinata’s good at this, and he’s enjoying every single movement.
The fun does not stop with his head in her mouth, no, Rinata moves downward, pushing more of his cock inside. Gently, Damon pushes on the back of her head, sinking more and more of his thick length into the depths. Once he feels his head prodding the entrance to Rinata’s throat, he stops pushing.
There’s another moan from his slave-wife as she starts to bob her head. Slowly dragging her lips back up his cock until only the head remains, and back down until her lips touch her hand. Those olive cheeks sink in a bit, lips going tighter as she starts to create more suction.
Damon’s in bliss, pulling lightly at her head, guiding her movements a good bit, but mostly letting Rinata show off her skills. He’s not gonna complain about a damn thing, not when she’s so damn good at this.
While her head bobs back and forth, gliding along his shaft, her tongue grinds at the underside of his prick. The hand at rest on his testicles give tender, sweet little squeezes. The squeezes coming in unison with his head hilting at the entrance to her throat.
“Fuck…” That seems to be the only word Damon knows how to say right now. Sweat forms on his body, his free hand pushing his hair off of his forehead while he stands there getting his cock sucked. How badly he wants to spew out compliments, or even try to find something to tell her to do better, but Rinata is nailing this. He’s truly at bliss with everything.
Every movement sends pleasure-filled shockwaves through his body. His toes curl inside of his socks on the floor. The sounds of her saliva sloshing around his cock makes his ears ring and his breathing shake.
Talent. Rinata has talent. But, like any man in his position, Damon needs more. Wants more.
“Move your hand.”
Rinata knows which hand he means, and she quickly unwraps it from the base of his prick. Damon returns this motion by pushing her head down more. Finally, the crown of his thick cock breaks into the confines of her throat. He can feel her relaxing her throat muscles, her tongue holding steady as he slips in.
Keeping his hand on her head, Damon pushes his hips forward before drawing them backwards. Pulling his cock back out of her throat only to push right back in eagerly. He works up a rather steady rhythm, his balls bouncing off of her chin as she gags. Saliva drips from the corners of her mouth, her hand unable to remain on his balls.
Instead she just grabs his hips. Not trying to stop him, but instead holding onto him. She wants to feel him, feel his movements as he fucks her throat for the very first time. Those blue eyes begin to water, the gagging becoming more frequent as he pushes on her head more.
“That’s it… that’s it… pesky gag reflex…we’ll work on that, yeah?” Damon nods to himself, knowing his slave-wife can’t exactly respond to him. He’s mostly talking to himself anyway. Just answering his own inquiry in his head as he looks down to watch her nose get pressed against his pelvis every time he thrusts into her throat.
In and out. In and out. Over and over again, Damon sinks his cock into that untrained throat with great need. However, as much as he finds himself enjoying the depth, the stretching of Rinata’s throat, he knows very well if he keeps it up like this he’s going to cum down that pretty gullet.
And Damon doesn’t want to do that.
Not yet at least.
Rinata gets her reprieve, Damon’s hands bundling her hair again as he eases his hips back and pulls on her locks. Rinata follows his hands, easing him out of her throat, and then her mouth, slowly. Those watery blue eyes stare up at him, sucking in each breath much like he is, with purpose, trying to make sure her lungs still know how to function. They do. Some throat fucking isn’t enough to wear them out. Rinata is a very strong woman it seems.
“You’re good at that…” Damon says with a nod. Phrasing it as good shock, not acting as if he doubted her abilities. But maybe he did. He didn’t exactly know what he was getting aside from a gorgeous woman legally bound to being with him, after all.
Perhaps part of him expected there to be no sex. But wasn’t that scenario grounds for a refund? A replacement? Sex was something advertised as a requirement for girls to join this program. They aren’t allowed to be too frigid. Consent, yes, it’s there and it exists but…
He didn’t buy Rinata to just walk around in jeans and a choker, after all.
“Thanks… I think.”
“It’s a compliment, don’t worry,” Damon assures her. Stepping to the side, he walks to the bed now, moving onto it, laying himself down in the center. His cock stays rock hard, sticking up in the air and glistening in the low blue lights of the corner side lamp. “Let’s get you on top, yeah?”
Rinata smiles as she moves to stand, her legs a tad bit wobbly from sitting on them. Her fingers slowly unbutton her jeans, moving the zipper down. Her fingers lightly dance at the waist, slipping inside the dark denim to ease the fabric down over her ass. Then down her legs. Until Rinata steps out of them. Her figure is rather hour-glass-esque. Those hips a good width, her thighs an almost perfect thickness, and her ass the perfect amount of bubble.
Damon can feel his cock twitch in the air as he watched her. From the way she speaks to the way she looks in his collar and nothing more, Rinata is a breathtaking being. He isn’t completely convinced she’s entirely human at this point. She’s just too flawless.
Of course it could just be how pent up he is, the lack of intimacy in his life blinding him. Surely she has some sort of flaw he can find later. Not that he wants to, not that he wants to harp on any imperfections Rinata may have.
In fact, Damon’s content to fly in the blue dream that she’s absolutely flawless. Nothing wrong with that. This woman currently crawling onto the bed, his wife, his slave, can absolutely keep him blinded by the light for as long as she wants to.
Not that she gets to know the effect she has on her owner, her husband. No need to give her too much power in their partnership so soon.
Rinata likes the bed. It’s firm in all the right ways. It even takes some of the pain out of her knees, pain only caused by being on them for Damon for so long. Not that she really minded it of course. Sucking his cock, she could tell, was going to become one of her favorite ways to greet him after a long day of work. As well as shirtless in that choker with a new pair of jeans on.
She’s learning. She’s adapting. She’s seeing everything she has to do in order to make sure this relationship is beneficial to her. It might not undo her past, but it can relieve the pain to an extent.
Damon’s just about to open his mouth to encourage her to take him for a ride, but he’s once more left in awe as Rinata’s already started crawling over his legs. He watches, his blue eyes staring at her almost in disbelief. How can she be so perfect? Maybe he’ll feel differently after he busts a load in her, but he honestly doubts it.
Rinata hovers her, significantly wet, cunt over his cock. Just the very tip of his head tickles at the edge of her hairless honeypot now. Her delicate, dainty hands go to rest on his chest as she steadies herself. Those feet staying planted firmly in the bed, Damon has no doubt Rinata knows exactly what she’s doing.
Damon raises his hands, planting them softly on her hips before giving them an encouraging squeeze. Not a word gets exchanged as the couple stare into each other’s eyes. Rinata swallows, her knees bending as she eases herself down.
His cock parts her hairless lips. Slowly but surely, the head of his thick member slips inside of her, causing the woman to whimper a little bit. “Fuck…” It’s Rinata who says it this time. There’s a shiver that rolls down her spine as she feels his cock entering her.
The walls that wrap around his cock are tight, clenching muscles that pull his cock deeper into her wetness as she moves herself down. Damon can’t help but hold his breath as he watches his cock once more disappearing into one of Rinata’s gorgeous holes.
Those blue eyes are transfixed on his cock as Rinata moans above him, lowering herself down more, more, and even more. Before he can process it’s happening, he sees his cock disappear inside of her almost completely. Feels his balls pressed right against her ass.
That’s when he tightens his grip on her hips, and bucks his own upward. Rinata lets out a pleasure-filled gasp, tossing her head back as she feels a deep, satisfactory grin forming on her cheeks.
“Fuck, baby!”
“You like that shit, huh?” Damon asks as he does it again. When Damon pulls his hips back, Rinata pulls hers up, sinking herself back down on his cock while he pistons it forward. “Ah, fuck!”
Damon knows he isn’t going to last much longer. The expert-level blowjob Rinata had subjected him to had him trying not to blow in that sweet pussy already. But he held out, bouncing his hips again, spearing his cock into her as she got into a good rhythm of going up and down.
The bed creaked underneath of them. Rinata’s breasts thrashed on her chest as the couple made love. It was closer to fucking than traditional love making, but it was passionate. The heated kissing earlier, the way his hands touched her, both reminding Rinata of her place and letting her know she was safe… it was contributing to her own undoing.
The sounds of sex filled the room. Damon’s groans and grunts, his balls hitting her ass, Rinata’s moans and squeals of sheer joy, her wet pussy squelching on his prick. All of it was echoing in the poor girl’s ears as she started to come undone around him.
Those walls somehow got even tighter around his prick, as if trying to milk him for everything he had to give. Clenching, spasming, getting even wetter as she never ceased in slamming herself down against the bouncing of his hips underneath her. Damon was so fucking happy she didn’t stop when she came. There was something so unspoken, yet important, to him about a woman that rode out her high. In this case, quite literally.
“A-Ah… shit…” Damon curses out into the air again, feeling her slowing down a bit. But he picked up the pace, when she couldn’t go as fast, he made sure to double his efforts. He could feel it, he was agonizingly close, teetering on the edge for far too long before he finally let Rinata’s velveteen walls send him toppling over the mountain.
Damon’s hot cum shot out of his cock as it spasmed and throbbed inside of her pulsating walls. Each groan was more like a moan as they left his throat, something he couldn’t exactly control. Her pussy was just as magical as she was.
His large hands held onto her hips, holding her down on his cock. Making sure she didn’t move off of him until his cock had stopped twitching, until every last drop of his cum was deep inside of her. Finally, when the throbbing of his cock and lurching of his balls subsided, his hands released her.
Rinata crawled off of him with a satisfied purr.
“Still gotta work on your gag reflex, though. That’s gotta go… but other than that?” Damon reaches over, his fingers getting lost in her messy brown hair as she lays down next to him on her side. “I’d say you were, at the very least, a worthwhile purchase.”
“So you’re saying you’d purchase me again?”
“I hope you came with a warranty.”
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A small family in California jump into a lake, a common hobby for them. However, today, something different lurks in the water. The family find themselves the patient zero clan for a new pandemic.
The sun is setting just perfectly over Oakdale, California. The moon is peaking out over the horizon now as the sun disappears flawlessly, casting shades of red, purple, and a dark blue over the waters. Life, however, is about to take a strong left turn.
When people think about pandemics, or epidemics, they mostly think of ebola. COVID19 has become almost an after thought in this world now. One could argue this is a good thing. One could also argue that this signifies how society would react in regards to something much, much bigger going on.
Insanely bigger.
The family is enjoying a vacation. This is where everything is going to begin for not only them, but the world. That lake shimmers with the sun as it falls down over the horizon. Little does this family know, or understand, that being in the lake is the entire issue. Had they never come into contact with the water, the events of their patient zero tale would have never fallen like dominoes into this path. Maybe they could have skirted by without an infection.
Mateo, twenty years old, is the last one to get out of the water. He likes being it water, likes the way it mats down his curly black hair. He just likes being wet, honestly. Swimming is something he loves doing, which may be why became a firefighter. It’s not just fighting fires. He’s jumping into rivers and lakes and pools to save people.
He’d swallowed a lot of water, he’d absorbed a lot into his skin, giving him a rather pruny appearance. His lightly olive skin glistens in the low light of the setting son as he exits the water, cracking his neck to the side.
Jesus, the forty seven year old father of the children and the patriarch of the family, is not such a strong swimmer. Not a fan of being wet for too long, Jesus got the least exposure to the water today. But still enough for him to now become one of the infected without knowing it. Without even knowing that people were infected at all.
It’s all really flying under the radar for now.
It seems like a paradise of a vacation for Serilla and Brandi. Brandi, the mother, Serilla, the daughter, spent time dipping in and out of the lake while suntanning. It’s been fun, they’ve enjoyed themselves significantly.
Once Jesse comes back from fishing way further down the lake, the family is all back together in the house.
Jesus is in the kitchen, cooking side dishes. He’d been mostly grilling off and on all day, enjoying being able to cook. There’s assorted meats on the table, Mateo and Brandi go to fix their plates first. But as Mateo looks down at his hand, he wonders… did he always have big hands? He really can’t remember. What person pays so much attention to their hands?
Brandi looks over at her son, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Instead, she focuses on her plate. She’s hungry, for some reason. Rather ravenous despite taking many breaks to eat during the day to keep herself going. Serilla joins the pair, butting in to grab some ribs, some asada, some adobado. She’s hungry as hell, too. None of the family is questioning their appetites right now. It’s easily rationalized. They’ve been swimming all day, they’ve all been getting dehydrated by the son. Of course they’d be hungry. Who wouldn’t be?
“My hands hurt,” Mateo announces as Jesse joins the family in grabbing food. The hunger has set in for him.
“Yeah, mine too. And my feet,” Serilla adds as she feels herself starting to ache in places as well.
“You all pushed yourself too hard today, too much movement,” Brandi insists as she takes her seat at the table. Her children follow suit, sitting around the table Jesus was still adding food to, before they all began to hungrily dig in. They all feel like they’re starving. Like they may not have eaten in weeks, yet they have been eating all damn day.
It’s uncomfortable to say the least. The rice and beans and various vegetables are an afterthought, only being picked off from the table when their plates run out of red meat. Starving. They’re all fucking starving.
Mateo notices it again. His hands hurt. And not only that, he swears his fingers look longer. With a rib in one hand, he raises the other to look at it. And then, a sharp pain radiates through Serilla’s leg.
She doesn’t yelp, or cry out, but instead she pushes her chair back to look at both of her legs in her bikini… is she taller?! Why does Serilla feel like her legs just got bigger? It’s not a fun thing to realize for her, she’s less aloof than Mateo in that regard. But still, she swallows down the food in her mouth ravenously.
The pain doesn’t subside.
Mateo drops his rib back onto his plate. Standing up quickly, he leaves the dining room and goes back to the living room. That couch has never looked more comfortable. He’s never liked the couch in the lake house, but, right now? He’s taking great pleasure in plopping down on it in his still wet shorts. His mother will have to understand, he’s in too much pain to take them off.
Serilla eventually follows her brother, opting for the love seat sofa in the corner. Much like her brother, she’s never been a fan of sleeping on these things. But she feels such a sense of comfort with her body at ease on the tinier couch.
They aren’t noticing it just yet but their bodies are changing. Serilla’s legs are growing at the joints, the pains she is feeling are indeed growing pains. And the same goes for Mateo and Jesse. Their arms are hurting because they’re growing.
It isn’t until Jesse joins his siblings on the couches, laying in the second love seat sofa across from Serilla, that he processes the amount of pain he’s in. His arms feel so heavy. And they should, because he’s gained double the arm length.
Mateo’s arms have doubled, but now his legs are getting longer. He writhes in deep seeded pain on the couch. His head turns from side to side as the pain spreads into his back. He isn’t understanding any of this.
Serilla whimpers loudly, she can feel the pain all the way from her hips down into her toes, it’s a deep pain that she can’t even describe. It’s like her muscles are being rearranged into something else, or the bones that hold her curvy body together are shift. The severe discomfort is unrivaled. And there’s no solace in the fact that she isn’t the only one in the house in such agony. In fact, it seems to worry her even more. Why is this happening to them? What did they do wrong? Serilla doesn’t understand it and slowly begins to weep. It’s a horrifying situation to be in, of course.
Mateo’s body continues to elongate until the bends of his knees are hanging off of the couch. He’s doubled in size and is just about to triple. Jesse is not far behind his little brother, his body doubling and rushing to the tripling mark. He’d not had the time to think about what any of this means either. Neither of the boys had.
Brandi, finally, joins her children in the living room, taking a hard seat in the recliner. No one speaks because they already know, everyone in this room is in just as much pain as whoever would ask about it. There’s so much groaning.
Jesus… he had the least exposure, but he’s still feeling it, he can feel his hips aching and his arms follow close behind, as if his body is joining a raise to see who can be in the most pain out of his entire family. It takes him time, his feet carrying him to the living room slowly. His feet… they’re huge now, the bones and muscles are aching like never before and once he makes it to that room…
He just crashes onto the second recliner.
The family’s all together now, crying out, writhing in pain as body parts elongate and stretch. The sounds of bones being broken or cracking and then being pushed back together echoes out every few seconds. Coming from someone completely different every single time.
Mateo’s entire body is almost too big for the couch, his legs now comically hanging off of it as he just lays there on his back in severe pain.
Jesse’s torso fits on the love seat sofa, but not much more of him. He’s the one who is the first to pray.
“Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos. Santificado sea tu Nombre. Venga tu reino,” Jesse’s voice chokes up here for a moment, his arm snapping multiple times without his consent, without his doing. “Hágase tu voluntad. En la tierra como en el cielo. Danos hoy el pan de este día y perdona nuestras deudas como nosotros perdonamos nuestros deudores y no nos dejes caer en la tentación sino que líbranos del malo. Amen.” Reciting the Padre Nuestro may seem like the wrong thing to do here, but how could he do anything else? Jesse doesn’t understand why no one else is praying!
“Si vivimos, para el Señor vivimos. Y si morimos, para el Señor morimos.” All Jesse knows to do right now is to pray. There’s no one else he can call on, and he’s stable enough to be able to pray out loud for now. For his entire family. Because he thinks he may not make it out alive. And if he feels like this…
He can only imagine Mateo and Serilla are feeling the exact same way. Their bodies are contorting and snapping and aching. Jesse can hear them groaning and grunting, but it’s so hard to process who is making what noise. Mateo sounds like a woman at times, that is hoe much pain his poor brother is in.
“Sal, alma cristiana, de este mundo, en el nombre de Dios Padre todopoderoso, que te creó, en el nombre de Jesucristo, Hijo de Dios vivo, que padeció por ti, en el nombre del Espiritu Santo, que te santificó. Que descanses hoy en paz y habites con Dios en su Reino,en compañía de la Virgen Madre de Dios, Maria Santísima, de san José y de todos los ángeles y santos.” Jesse fully believes they’re all dying right now.
Brandi writhes in the recliner, but she can barely fit in it now. It feels like she’s doubled in size. Because she has. If any of the family stand up, their heads will more than hit the ceiling. Doubling, tripling in size. It’s like the worst growth spurt someone could go through. Because it is.
The parasitic virus in the lake has made this family its’ patient zeroes. Never something any human being wants to be. The first people to become utterly fucked up by this virus.
But, Brandi and Serilla are finding their pains ending. For a brief moment, Serilla feared that she was finally dying. That the relief washing over her body as it laid without fitting on that love seat couch was death calling her name. Brandi for a moment feared the same, but there was no lights at the end of the tunnel. The women just laid there, catching their breath.
“Vengan a su ayuda, santos de Dios; salgan a su encuentro, ángeles del Señor. Reciban su alma y preséntenla ante el Altísimo.
Oremos:
Te encomendamos, Señor, a tu hijo NOMBRE, a fin de que, muerto ya para el mundo, viva para ti. Con tu infinita misericordia perdona los pecados que la fragilidad humana le haya hecho cometer. Por Jesucristo, nuestro Señor. AMEN!” Jesse cannot stop praying.
It’s all he knows to do. Even if the pain is calming down for the women, all the men are still going through it. The pain is like the worst parts of everything. A kidney stone in your joints. A toothache in your back.
“Why is this happening?!” Jesus finally cries out. His process is less intense than his children’s, but how could he even consider relaxing while his babies are in pain? His legs are growing swiftly, he can feel his body spreading, expanding, his fingers severely elongating as his body changes. These were not the changes Jesus thought he would be going through at his age.
Grey hair, erectile dysfunction, that was what he thought was waiting for him.
“I… I don’t know! Dad I don’t know what’s happening. Why are we stretching?! Why are we getting bigger?!” Mateo cries out, as instead of turning to Christ, he turns to his father instead. His father is more likely to answer him, even if Mateo is fully aware his dad has no answers.
“I have no idea!” Jesus cries back out at his son, which is the exact answer Mateo was expecting. No one has any idea what is happening to them.
Serilla and Brandi are just trying to breathe. They both look at their expended bodies, noticing somewhere along the lines, their bikinis had ripped off. Both of the women are naked as the day they were born. But at this moment, they’re both too exhausted to consider doing anything about it.
They will soon enough, however.
Mateo screams a little bit as his shorts rip off, turning into tatters underneath of his hips. The only plus side he can come to find as he looks down at his body? His cock’s bigger. Jesse looks down at himself as well, noticing the exact same thing as his swimming trunks have long since disappeared. At least his cock is bigger. That’s not something he’s gonna complain about, honestly. What man in their right mind would?!
But it aches. The boys are finding their cocks aching now as they grind and writhe on their backs. Briefly, Mateo wonders if he should roll onto his stomach. But ultimately, he decides against it. In case the couch feels like giving out on him. He needs this couch. Mateo needs to feel comfortable at rest in something.
It’s Jesse who is next to stop growing. He’s become triple his height, he’s almost doubled his body weight, and every single joint he has is still aching angrily. Even if the pain is rapidly subsiding, he finds himself tired.
Exhaustion isn’t even the right word for it. Jesse feels like he just woke up from a coma but still wants five more minutes of sleep. His arm hits the floor as he tries to savor this moment. It’s been hours, hours of the family in the living room undergoing this transformation from the parasitic virus they didn’t even know they had come into contact with.
And Jesse is just exhausted from it all. Brandi has never been more wrong with her maternal wisdom that the kids just pushed themselves too hard today. Maybe she should have gotten them to a hospital instead of just pressuring them to eat.
Food cannot solve every problem in the world, unfortunately.
Their ravenous hunger is also explained now, at least to Mateo. If their bodies were going to change and transform then it needed energy. More energy than they had in them at the time. Eating so much food so fast had been their downfall. Maybe they could have prolonged the inevitable path of pain just for a bit longer. Had they only put off eating as quickly as possible.
Jesse sits up, slowly, his head almost hitting the ceiling but not quite. His dark brown eyes flick around the room. He sees his mother in the recliner, trying to catch her breath still yet. He sees his sister, laying on that love seat couch completely naked.
And he growls.
Jesse isn’t sure why he growled, but he did. Normally he would have looked away, he would have turned his head and not paid attention to it. But his dark eyes were roaming over her perky breasts, over every single curve, over her body and taking it in rather hungrily.
Jesse was starving now but it wasn’t for food. No, it was for another just as important need. It was for sex. He could feel the blood rushing downward, into his cock. Causing the hefty muscle to slowly start to stand on it’s own. Jesse’s erection is growing quickly when his and Serilla’s eyes meet.
Serilla… she starts to drool as she lays on her back on that much smaller love seat couch. Her eyes flutter, her eyelashes bat. Just hours ago the concept of fucking her brothers would have made the woman vomit, but now she’s finding her loins are aching, too.
The canal of her pussy is soaked. Her clit is engorged, throbbing as she and Jesse keep that stare. It’s something neither of the siblings can deny, honestly. They want each other.
Jesse does try to stand up, but when his head hits the ceiling, he opts for a swift crawl, making his way to his sister, to Serilla, the most gorgeous thing he swears he has ever seen. Serilla naturally spreads her legs a bit wider now. Mateo and Jesus still cry out in pain every few moments, but now Jesse is done praying. He’s done trying to get them some sort of saving. More along the lines of accepting their fate.
This is their fate and the parasitic virus makes it hard for him to deny his urges now. Same for Serilla. Everyone else will get to this point as well. But for now, it’s just Jesse and Serilla being total fucking giant perverts.
Crawling between his sister’s legs, his cock flops and lands on her slit. Serilla shivers, hard, unsure if she has ever been so horny in her entire life.
Rocking his hips back and forth, Jesse spends a few moments teasing his big sister’s pussy. Grinding his underside against her swollen clit, smearing her juices all over her gorgeous pussy lips. Their hearts are racing, almost in sync, she can feel his heartbeat against her clit through the underside of his penis.
Jesse grabs his sister’s hands, bending her arms to pin them behind of her head with his own as his hips shift. The head of Jesse’s cock gets an angle, and his hips jut forward. The siblings go far past the point of no return as he penetrates Serilla. His cock sinks in and he lets out a satisfactory grunt.
Still staring down at her, Serilla meets and keeps his gaze. Their eyes stay locked as her brother mounts her, his entire cock filling her pussy up and stretching it while she moans. Her heavenly noises mix with the hellish screams of her father and other brother. It’s truly a mismatched menagerie of sound at the moment. But it almost suits the situation, almost makes the most perfect soundtrack for the situation the family was forced into.
Jesse swings his hips back, pulling them until half of his cock is out and spearing back in. He finds a hard, fast rhythm. Serilla’s moans become louder, her hands fighting against the pinning a bit as her breasts heave and shake from the furiously rough thrusts. Her brother is her Adonis in this moment.
Jesse’s balls loudly clap against the back of his sister’s legs, against her ass. The sounds of her squelching pussy starts to mix in with all the noises. And her brother is all too happy to keep beating that pussy up like it owes him some serious money. The oomph behind his thrusts makes that love seat sofa creak underneath of them, their giant bodies colliding together over and over again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck that dick is so fucking big!” Serilla cries out, she can’t help herself. Her orgasm comes quick, quicker than she would have wanted it or expected it to. That big, yet tight, pussy convulses around her brother’s cock as it pistons in and out of her. Jesse doesn’t slow down, not for a second, he continues to beat it right the fuck up.
The noises Mateo has been listening to have made his body shiver. When he sits up next, he sees his cock is standing fully erect. But he doesn’t have a chance to try and join his brother and sister in their little tryst. Instead, he sees someone else crawling towards him.
Brandi pushes her son until he is flush with the couch. She needs this, too. Listening to her son fuck her daughter’s brains out has worked up the woman to no end. How she wishes she could understand why.
“M-Mommy?” Mateo croaks out, his cock giving an almost painful twitch in the air. He needs her, he’s never needed someone so badly before. As he stares into his mother’s eyes, Mateo knows he has to fuck her. He needs his cock inside of her as quickly as possible. Brandi feels the same way. But she has no idea why. Brandi has never been attracted to her sons before, but right now? She’s in so much need it’s unreal.
Jesus is still in pain on the floor. It’s hitting him harder because he’s had the least exposure, it’s taking longer for that parasitic virus to multiply, to replicate his cells. But it’s just his painful screams now the only noises that aren’t filled with insane pleasure.
Brandi crawls onto Mateo’s lap. Serilla screams out with another shaking orgasm, the fury of her own explosion causing Jesse to slow his movements to keep from blowing his load in what he considers to be premature.
Once on his lap, Brandi just drops her ass onto it. Spearing Mateo’s entire cock inside of her pussy, letting the head mash against her cervix. The exact same pussy that made him, the same cunt that brought him into this world.
“M-Mom!” Mateo cries out, his hands going to her hips to hold her down. Brandi presses her hands to his chest, rolling her head back as she starts to moan, almost in sync with her daughter. She grinds those hips back and forth, Mateo holding her down but letting her wiggle and grind as much as she wants.
Mateo begins to buck his hims upwards, fucking his mother’s pussy roughly as she keeps grinding, spelling coconut and nothing less on her son’s amazing cock. Mateo had always been rather hung, but given the transformations his body just underwent? He’s much more hefty in the cock department.
His mother’s tight walls squeeze his cock, making him shudder and lurch here and there. “Mommy… mom… mom… fuck, mom… fuck fuck fuck…” A vocal lover, he can’t stop talking to her. Watching her breasts heave up and down as he fucks her, as she grinds her hips on him, as his brother fucks the hell out of his sister.
The noises are nothing less than sinful.
Slapping of skin on skin, balls hitting asses, and of course Jesus groaning out in pain on the floor. He’s screaming in pain every few seconds. The other four can hear their father’s bones breaking and rearranging over and over again but they ignore it.
They ignore his calls and cries of pain and anguish as they keep themselves focused on this primal urge. All they want to do now is fuck.
Jesse continues to fuck his sister, keeping her arms and hands pinned until they go numb behind of her head. Over and over again he slams his cock into her pussy, bashing her cervix with the head of his cock. Those walls keep squeezing him, his poor sister cumming like a fountain every few minutes. But he loves it. Jesse is enthralled with watching his sister’s eyes roll back with each orgasm, with the hypnotic way her breasts jiggle and bounce with each of his thrusts.
Mateo is in a similar situation, in a serious trance as he watches his mom’s breasts bounce right in his face. Brandi’s really feeling herself. Her hands roam over her youngest son’s chest, her hips move like a fucking tornado attacking a mobile home.
“Fuck, mommy…” Mateo moans out as his nails dig into her hips tensely, leaving little crescent moon shapes in her flesh. “Y-You’re gonna make me cum.”
Both of the sons wish they could move their women into a new position. But they don’t want to destroy the furniture, no, they need it, they need comfortable places to give into their urges. They need somewhere to rest, their instincts are truly kicking in, a new sense of self preservation has taken over with the virus.
Jesse groans louder, noises more akin to a caveman or a wild animal than a living, breathing human being. His hips somehow manage to get a quicker pace, his balls giving a harsh lurch as he finally pushes his hips forward and starts to pump his cum into his big sister.
Serilla squeals, her legs wrapping around Jesse to pull him in deeper while he cums inside of her. His milky white seed spews inside of her pretty little pussy, filling it up until it starts to leak out the sides the seal their intermingled sexes made.
His grunting, his groaning, does not stop as he keeps pumping his nut, the fattest fucking nut of his life, right into his sister’s perfect pussy. If anything, he thinks Serilla may be his soulmate. She’s the best lay he’s ever had and he doesn’t care anymore that he doesn’t understand why.
Why is everyone feeling this why? Why did everyone double or triple in size? Why is all of this happening? No one can question it, the nightmares in the water simply won’t allow it.
Exhausted now, Jesse collapses on top of his big sister, the two of them falling asleep together. These couches, these love seat sofas, they used to be nightmares for these adults when they were children. New they’re a respite of normalcy in a chaotically fucked up world they had no desire to be in, but were forced into.
Mateo is furiously dragging his mom’s hips back and forth. Helping her properly grind on his cock, still thrusting his own hips up into her body. Brandi is screaming from how hard her son is fucking her. When her orgasm hits her, it makes those walls tense up and convulse against Mateo’s rather greedy cock. Brandi can feel just how bad her son needs this orgasm.
Just as bad as she needed the one he just gave her. How could she deny her son? Her new instincts simply won’t allow it. She continues to pump her hips back and forth fast, fast, faster. Letting Mateo’s grappling hands move her how he wants her, how he needs her.
“M-Mommy please…” Mateo begs, his head tossing back onto the couch, staring up at the wall. Jesus screams again in deep pain while his arms stretch and grow, he’s really going through it while his family is now having the time of their lives.
Mateo can’t fucking hold it anymore. His cock twitches deeply inside of his mother’s pussy as he spurts and splatters, painting her insides white. He can feel her pussy still convulsing from her last orgasm, to which Mateo just launches more cream into her. Cumming like a fucking fire hose inside of his own mother. Large legs shaking, even the couch shakes underneath of them as Mateo explodes in her sweet pussy.
Much like his brother and sister, with his head on the back of the couch, Mateo falls asleep. His mother is not far behind, tucking her head under his chin, curling up, and drifting off quickly. Everyone is going to wake up hungry. The cycle will repeat until something horrible comes to pass, unfortunately. But none of them can even comprehend the Lovecraftian horror story they have been thrust into.
Jesus just screams and cries on the floor. Hours pass and he can feel his body changing. All he knows to do is scream, and try to understand why he’s in so much pain for so much longer…
Yet his family just had a fucking orgy around him.
The sun is setting just perfectly over Oakdale, California. The moon is peaking out over the horizon now as the sun disappears flawlessly, casting shades of red, purple, and a dark blue over the waters. Life, however, is about to take a strong left turn.
When people think about pandemics, or epidemics, they mostly think of ebola. COVID19 has become almost an after thought in this world now. One could argue this is a good thing. One could also argue that this signifies how society would react in regards to something much, much bigger going on.
Insanely bigger.
The family is enjoying a vacation. This is where everything is going to begin for not only them, but the world. That lake shimmers with the sun as it falls down over the horizon. Little does this family know, or understand, that being in the lake is the entire issue. Had they never come into contact with the water, the events of their patient zero tale would have never fallen like dominoes into this path. Maybe they could have skirted by without an infection.
Mateo, twenty years old, is the last one to get out of the water. He likes being it water, likes the way it mats down his curly black hair. He just likes being wet, honestly. Swimming is something he loves doing, which may be why became a firefighter. It’s not just fighting fires. He’s jumping into rivers and lakes and pools to save people.
He’d swallowed a lot of water, he’d absorbed a lot into his skin, giving him a rather pruny appearance. His lightly olive skin glistens in the low light of the setting son as he exits the water, cracking his neck to the side.
Jesus, the forty seven year old father of the children and the patriarch of the family, is not such a strong swimmer. Not a fan of being wet for too long, Jesus got the least exposure to the water today. But still enough for him to now become one of the infected without knowing it. Without even knowing that people were infected at all.
It’s all really flying under the radar for now.
It seems like a paradise of a vacation for Serilla and Brandi. Brandi, the mother, Serilla, the daughter, spent time dipping in and out of the lake while suntanning. It’s been fun, they’ve enjoyed themselves significantly.
Once Jesse comes back from fishing way further down the lake, the family is all back together in the house.
Jesus is in the kitchen, cooking side dishes. He’d been mostly grilling off and on all day, enjoying being able to cook. There’s assorted meats on the table, Mateo and Brandi go to fix their plates first. But as Mateo looks down at his hand, he wonders… did he always have big hands? He really can’t remember. What person pays so much attention to their hands?
Brandi looks over at her son, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Instead, she focuses on her plate. She’s hungry, for some reason. Rather ravenous despite taking many breaks to eat during the day to keep herself going. Serilla joins the pair, butting in to grab some ribs, some asada, some adobado. She’s hungry as hell, too. None of the family is questioning their appetites right now. It’s easily rationalized. They’ve been swimming all day, they’ve all been getting dehydrated by the son. Of course they’d be hungry. Who wouldn’t be?
“My hands hurt,” Mateo announces as Jesse joins the family in grabbing food. The hunger has set in for him.
“Yeah, mine too. And my feet,” Serilla adds as she feels herself starting to ache in places as well.
“You all pushed yourself too hard today, too much movement,” Brandi insists as she takes her seat at the table. Her children follow suit, sitting around the table Jesus was still adding food to, before they all began to hungrily dig in. They all feel like they’re starving. Like they may not have eaten in weeks, yet they have been eating all damn day.
It’s uncomfortable to say the least. The rice and beans and various vegetables are an afterthought, only being picked off from the table when their plates run out of red meat. Starving. They’re all fucking starving.
Mateo notices it again. His hands hurt. And not only that, he swears his fingers look longer. With a rib in one hand, he raises the other to look at it. And then, a sharp pain radiates through Serilla’s leg.
She doesn’t yelp, or cry out, but instead she pushes her chair back to look at both of her legs in her bikini… is she taller?! Why does Serilla feel like her legs just got bigger? It’s not a fun thing to realize for her, she’s less aloof than Mateo in that regard. But still, she swallows down the food in her mouth ravenously.
The pain doesn’t subside.
Mateo drops his rib back onto his plate. Standing up quickly, he leaves the dining room and goes back to the living room. That couch has never looked more comfortable. He’s never liked the couch in the lake house, but, right now? He’s taking great pleasure in plopping down on it in his still wet shorts. His mother will have to understand, he’s in too much pain to take them off.
Serilla eventually follows her brother, opting for the love seat sofa in the corner. Much like her brother, she’s never been a fan of sleeping on these things. But she feels such a sense of comfort with her body at ease on the tinier couch.
They aren’t noticing it just yet but their bodies are changing. Serilla’s legs are growing at the joints, the pains she is feeling are indeed growing pains. And the same goes for Mateo and Jesse. Their arms are hurting because they’re growing.
It isn’t until Jesse joins his siblings on the couches, laying in the second love seat sofa across from Serilla, that he processes the amount of pain he’s in. His arms feel so heavy. And they should, because he’s gained double the arm length.
Mateo’s arms have doubled, but now his legs are getting longer. He writhes in deep seeded pain on the couch. His head turns from side to side as the pain spreads into his back. He isn’t understanding any of this.
Serilla whimpers loudly, she can feel the pain all the way from her hips down into her toes, it’s a deep pain that she can’t even describe. It’s like her muscles are being rearranged into something else, or the bones that hold her curvy body together are shift. The severe discomfort is unrivaled. And there’s no solace in the fact that she isn’t the only one in the house in such agony. In fact, it seems to worry her even more. Why is this happening to them? What did they do wrong? Serilla doesn’t understand it and slowly begins to weep. It’s a horrifying situation to be in, of course.
Mateo’s body continues to elongate until the bends of his knees are hanging off of the couch. He’s doubled in size and is just about to triple. Jesse is not far behind his little brother, his body doubling and rushing to the tripling mark. He’d not had the time to think about what any of this means either. Neither of the boys had.
Brandi, finally, joins her children in the living room, taking a hard seat in the recliner. No one speaks because they already know, everyone in this room is in just as much pain as whoever would ask about it. There’s so much groaning.
Jesus… he had the least exposure, but he’s still feeling it, he can feel his hips aching and his arms follow close behind, as if his body is joining a raise to see who can be in the most pain out of his entire family. It takes him time, his feet carrying him to the living room slowly. His feet… they’re huge now, the bones and muscles are aching like never before and once he makes it to that room…
He just crashes onto the second recliner.
The family’s all together now, crying out, writhing in pain as body parts elongate and stretch. The sounds of bones being broken or cracking and then being pushed back together echoes out every few seconds. Coming from someone completely different every single time.
Mateo’s entire body is almost too big for the couch, his legs now comically hanging off of it as he just lays there on his back in severe pain.
Jesse’s torso fits on the love seat sofa, but not much more of him. He’s the one who is the first to pray.
“Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos. Santificado sea tu Nombre. Venga tu reino,” Jesse’s voice chokes up here for a moment, his arm snapping multiple times without his consent, without his doing. “Hágase tu voluntad. En la tierra como en el cielo. Danos hoy el pan de este día y perdona nuestras deudas como nosotros perdonamos nuestros deudores y no nos dejes caer en la tentación sino que líbranos del malo. Amen.” Reciting the Padre Nuestro may seem like the wrong thing to do here, but how could he do anything else? Jesse doesn’t understand why no one else is praying!
“Si vivimos, para el Señor vivimos. Y si morimos, para el Señor morimos.” All Jesse knows to do right now is to pray. There’s no one else he can call on, and he’s stable enough to be able to pray out loud for now. For his entire family. Because he thinks he may not make it out alive. And if he feels like this…
He can only imagine Mateo and Serilla are feeling the exact same way. Their bodies are contorting and snapping and aching. Jesse can hear them groaning and grunting, but it’s so hard to process who is making what noise. Mateo sounds like a woman at times, that is hoe much pain his poor brother is in.
“Sal, alma cristiana, de este mundo, en el nombre de Dios Padre todopoderoso, que te creó, en el nombre de Jesucristo, Hijo de Dios vivo, que padeció por ti, en el nombre del Espiritu Santo, que te santificó. Que descanses hoy en paz y habites con Dios en su Reino,en compañía de la Virgen Madre de Dios, Maria Santísima, de san José y de todos los ángeles y santos.” Jesse fully believes they’re all dying right now.
Brandi writhes in the recliner, but she can barely fit in it now. It feels like she’s doubled in size. Because she has. If any of the family stand up, their heads will more than hit the ceiling. Doubling, tripling in size. It’s like the worst growth spurt someone could go through. Because it is.
The parasitic virus in the lake has made this family its’ patient zeroes. Never something any human being wants to be. The first people to become utterly fucked up by this virus.
But, Brandi and Serilla are finding their pains ending. For a brief moment, Serilla feared that she was finally dying. That the relief washing over her body as it laid without fitting on that love seat couch was death calling her name. Brandi for a moment feared the same, but there was no lights at the end of the tunnel. The women just laid there, catching their breath.
“Vengan a su ayuda, santos de Dios; salgan a su encuentro, ángeles del Señor. Reciban su alma y preséntenla ante el Altísimo.
Oremos:
Te encomendamos, Señor, a tu hijo NOMBRE, a fin de que, muerto ya para el mundo, viva para ti. Con tu infinita misericordia perdona los pecados que la fragilidad humana le haya hecho cometer. Por Jesucristo, nuestro Señor. AMEN!” Jesse cannot stop praying.
It’s all he knows to do. Even if the pain is calming down for the women, all the men are still going through it. The pain is like the worst parts of everything. A kidney stone in your joints. A toothache in your back.
“Why is this happening?!” Jesus finally cries out. His process is less intense than his children’s, but how could he even consider relaxing while his babies are in pain? His legs are growing swiftly, he can feel his body spreading, expanding, his fingers severely elongating as his body changes. These were not the changes Jesus thought he would be going through at his age.
Grey hair, erectile dysfunction, that was what he thought was waiting for him.
“I… I don’t know! Dad I don’t know what’s happening. Why are we stretching?! Why are we getting bigger?!” Mateo cries out, as instead of turning to Christ, he turns to his father instead. His father is more likely to answer him, even if Mateo is fully aware his dad has no answers.
“I have no idea!” Jesus cries back out at his son, which is the exact answer Mateo was expecting. No one has any idea what is happening to them.
Serilla and Brandi are just trying to breathe. They both look at their expended bodies, noticing somewhere along the lines, their bikinis had ripped off. Both of the women are naked as the day they were born. But at this moment, they’re both too exhausted to consider doing anything about it.
They will soon enough, however.
Mateo screams a little bit as his shorts rip off, turning into tatters underneath of his hips. The only plus side he can come to find as he looks down at his body? His cock’s bigger. Jesse looks down at himself as well, noticing the exact same thing as his swimming trunks have long since disappeared. At least his cock is bigger. That’s not something he’s gonna complain about, honestly. What man in their right mind would?!
But it aches. The boys are finding their cocks aching now as they grind and writhe on their backs. Briefly, Mateo wonders if he should roll onto his stomach. But ultimately, he decides against it. In case the couch feels like giving out on him. He needs this couch. Mateo needs to feel comfortable at rest in something.
It’s Jesse who is next to stop growing. He’s become triple his height, he’s almost doubled his body weight, and every single joint he has is still aching angrily. Even if the pain is rapidly subsiding, he finds himself tired.
Exhaustion isn’t even the right word for it. Jesse feels like he just woke up from a coma but still wants five more minutes of sleep. His arm hits the floor as he tries to savor this moment. It’s been hours, hours of the family in the living room undergoing this transformation from the parasitic virus they didn’t even know they had come into contact with.
And Jesse is just exhausted from it all. Brandi has never been more wrong with her maternal wisdom that the kids just pushed themselves too hard today. Maybe she should have gotten them to a hospital instead of just pressuring them to eat.
Food cannot solve every problem in the world, unfortunately.
Their ravenous hunger is also explained now, at least to Mateo. If their bodies were going to change and transform then it needed energy. More energy than they had in them at the time. Eating so much food so fast had been their downfall. Maybe they could have prolonged the inevitable path of pain just for a bit longer. Had they only put off eating as quickly as possible.
Jesse sits up, slowly, his head almost hitting the ceiling but not quite. His dark brown eyes flick around the room. He sees his mother in the recliner, trying to catch her breath still yet. He sees his sister, laying on that love seat couch completely naked.
And he growls.
Jesse isn’t sure why he growled, but he did. Normally he would have looked away, he would have turned his head and not paid attention to it. But his dark eyes were roaming over her perky breasts, over every single curve, over her body and taking it in rather hungrily.
Jesse was starving now but it wasn’t for food. No, it was for another just as important need. It was for sex. He could feel the blood rushing downward, into his cock. Causing the hefty muscle to slowly start to stand on it’s own. Jesse’s erection is growing quickly when his and Serilla’s eyes meet.
Serilla… she starts to drool as she lays on her back on that much smaller love seat couch. Her eyes flutter, her eyelashes bat. Just hours ago the concept of fucking her brothers would have made the woman vomit, but now she’s finding her loins are aching, too.
The canal of her pussy is soaked. Her clit is engorged, throbbing as she and Jesse keep that stare. It’s something neither of the siblings can deny, honestly. They want each other.
Jesse does try to stand up, but when his head hits the ceiling, he opts for a swift crawl, making his way to his sister, to Serilla, the most gorgeous thing he swears he has ever seen. Serilla naturally spreads her legs a bit wider now. Mateo and Jesus still cry out in pain every few moments, but now Jesse is done praying. He’s done trying to get them some sort of saving. More along the lines of accepting their fate.
This is their fate and the parasitic virus makes it hard for him to deny his urges now. Same for Serilla. Everyone else will get to this point as well. But for now, it’s just Jesse and Serilla being total fucking giant perverts.
Crawling between his sister’s legs, his cock flops and lands on her slit. Serilla shivers, hard, unsure if she has ever been so horny in her entire life.
Rocking his hips back and forth, Jesse spends a few moments teasing his big sister’s pussy. Grinding his underside against her swollen clit, smearing her juices all over her gorgeous pussy lips. Their hearts are racing, almost in sync, she can feel his heartbeat against her clit through the underside of his penis.
Jesse grabs his sister’s hands, bending her arms to pin them behind of her head with his own as his hips shift. The head of Jesse’s cock gets an angle, and his hips jut forward. The siblings go far past the point of no return as he penetrates Serilla. His cock sinks in and he lets out a satisfactory grunt.
Still staring down at her, Serilla meets and keeps his gaze. Their eyes stay locked as her brother mounts her, his entire cock filling her pussy up and stretching it while she moans. Her heavenly noises mix with the hellish screams of her father and other brother. It’s truly a mismatched menagerie of sound at the moment. But it almost suits the situation, almost makes the most perfect soundtrack for the situation the family was forced into.
Jesse swings his hips back, pulling them until half of his cock is out and spearing back in. He finds a hard, fast rhythm. Serilla’s moans become louder, her hands fighting against the pinning a bit as her breasts heave and shake from the furiously rough thrusts. Her brother is her Adonis in this moment.
Jesse’s balls loudly clap against the back of his sister’s legs, against her ass. The sounds of her squelching pussy starts to mix in with all the noises. And her brother is all too happy to keep beating that pussy up like it owes him some serious money. The oomph behind his thrusts makes that love seat sofa creak underneath of them, their giant bodies colliding together over and over again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck that dick is so fucking big!” Serilla cries out, she can’t help herself. Her orgasm comes quick, quicker than she would have wanted it or expected it to. That big, yet tight, pussy convulses around her brother’s cock as it pistons in and out of her. Jesse doesn’t slow down, not for a second, he continues to beat it right the fuck up.
The noises Mateo has been listening to have made his body shiver. When he sits up next, he sees his cock is standing fully erect. But he doesn’t have a chance to try and join his brother and sister in their little tryst. Instead, he sees someone else crawling towards him.
Brandi pushes her son until he is flush with the couch. She needs this, too. Listening to her son fuck her daughter’s brains out has worked up the woman to no end. How she wishes she could understand why.
“M-Mommy?” Mateo croaks out, his cock giving an almost painful twitch in the air. He needs her, he’s never needed someone so badly before. As he stares into his mother’s eyes, Mateo knows he has to fuck her. He needs his cock inside of her as quickly as possible. Brandi feels the same way. But she has no idea why. Brandi has never been attracted to her sons before, but right now? She’s in so much need it’s unreal.
Jesus is still in pain on the floor. It’s hitting him harder because he’s had the least exposure, it’s taking longer for that parasitic virus to multiply, to replicate his cells. But it’s just his painful screams now the only noises that aren’t filled with insane pleasure.
Brandi crawls onto Mateo’s lap. Serilla screams out with another shaking orgasm, the fury of her own explosion causing Jesse to slow his movements to keep from blowing his load in what he considers to be premature.
Once on his lap, Brandi just drops her ass onto it. Spearing Mateo’s entire cock inside of her pussy, letting the head mash against her cervix. The exact same pussy that made him, the same cunt that brought him into this world.
“M-Mom!” Mateo cries out, his hands going to her hips to hold her down. Brandi presses her hands to his chest, rolling her head back as she starts to moan, almost in sync with her daughter. She grinds those hips back and forth, Mateo holding her down but letting her wiggle and grind as much as she wants.
Mateo begins to buck his hims upwards, fucking his mother’s pussy roughly as she keeps grinding, spelling coconut and nothing less on her son’s amazing cock. Mateo had always been rather hung, but given the transformations his body just underwent? He’s much more hefty in the cock department.
His mother’s tight walls squeeze his cock, making him shudder and lurch here and there. “Mommy… mom… mom… fuck, mom… fuck fuck fuck…” A vocal lover, he can’t stop talking to her. Watching her breasts heave up and down as he fucks her, as she grinds her hips on him, as his brother fucks the hell out of his sister.
The noises are nothing less than sinful.
Slapping of skin on skin, balls hitting asses, and of course Jesus groaning out in pain on the floor. He’s screaming in pain every few seconds. The other four can hear their father’s bones breaking and rearranging over and over again but they ignore it.
They ignore his calls and cries of pain and anguish as they keep themselves focused on this primal urge. All they want to do now is fuck.
Jesse continues to fuck his sister, keeping her arms and hands pinned until they go numb behind of her head. Over and over again he slams his cock into her pussy, bashing her cervix with the head of his cock. Those walls keep squeezing him, his poor sister cumming like a fountain every few minutes. But he loves it. Jesse is enthralled with watching his sister’s eyes roll back with each orgasm, with the hypnotic way her breasts jiggle and bounce with each of his thrusts.
Mateo is in a similar situation, in a serious trance as he watches his mom’s breasts bounce right in his face. Brandi’s really feeling herself. Her hands roam over her youngest son’s chest, her hips move like a fucking tornado attacking a mobile home.
“Fuck, mommy…” Mateo moans out as his nails dig into her hips tensely, leaving little crescent moon shapes in her flesh. “Y-You’re gonna make me cum.”
Both of the sons wish they could move their women into a new position. But they don’t want to destroy the furniture, no, they need it, they need comfortable places to give into their urges. They need somewhere to rest, their instincts are truly kicking in, a new sense of self preservation has taken over with the virus.
Jesse groans louder, noises more akin to a caveman or a wild animal than a living, breathing human being. His hips somehow manage to get a quicker pace, his balls giving a harsh lurch as he finally pushes his hips forward and starts to pump his cum into his big sister.
Serilla squeals, her legs wrapping around Jesse to pull him in deeper while he cums inside of her. His milky white seed spews inside of her pretty little pussy, filling it up until it starts to leak out the sides the seal their intermingled sexes made.
His grunting, his groaning, does not stop as he keeps pumping his nut, the fattest fucking nut of his life, right into his sister’s perfect pussy. If anything, he thinks Serilla may be his soulmate. She’s the best lay he’s ever had and he doesn’t care anymore that he doesn’t understand why.
Why is everyone feeling this why? Why did everyone double or triple in size? Why is all of this happening? No one can question it, the nightmares in the water simply won’t allow it.
Exhausted now, Jesse collapses on top of his big sister, the two of them falling asleep together. These couches, these love seat sofas, they used to be nightmares for these adults when they were children. New they’re a respite of normalcy in a chaotically fucked up world they had no desire to be in, but were forced into.
Mateo is furiously dragging his mom’s hips back and forth. Helping her properly grind on his cock, still thrusting his own hips up into her body. Brandi is screaming from how hard her son is fucking her. When her orgasm hits her, it makes those walls tense up and convulse against Mateo’s rather greedy cock. Brandi can feel just how bad her son needs this orgasm.
Just as bad as she needed the one he just gave her. How could she deny her son? Her new instincts simply won’t allow it. She continues to pump her hips back and forth fast, fast, faster. Letting Mateo’s grappling hands move her how he wants her, how he needs her.
“M-Mommy please…” Mateo begs, his head tossing back onto the couch, staring up at the wall. Jesus screams again in deep pain while his arms stretch and grow, he’s really going through it while his family is now having the time of their lives.
Mateo can’t fucking hold it anymore. His cock twitches deeply inside of his mother’s pussy as he spurts and splatters, painting her insides white. He can feel her pussy still convulsing from her last orgasm, to which Mateo just launches more cream into her. Cumming like a fucking fire hose inside of his own mother. Large legs shaking, even the couch shakes underneath of them as Mateo explodes in her sweet pussy.
Much like his brother and sister, with his head on the back of the couch, Mateo falls asleep. His mother is not far behind, tucking her head under his chin, curling up, and drifting off quickly. Everyone is going to wake up hungry. The cycle will repeat until something horrible comes to pass, unfortunately. But none of them can even comprehend the Lovecraftian horror story they have been thrust into.
Jesus just screams and cries on the floor. Hours pass and he can feel his body changing. All he knows to do is scream, and try to understand why he’s in so much pain for so much longer…
Yet his family just had a fucking orgy around him.
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Chapter by
EzraWritesThings · 23 May 2024 -
The night at the bar.
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Tuesday nights are typically meant to be spent at home. Usually couples are snuggled up in bed, watching television or mindlessly scrolling through TikTok dances and misinformation. But, not these two. For this couple in particular, this is their Friday night.
Not having regular weekends off has never been a big deal. But for Taylor McGinnity, it does tend to make the bar pickings a little slim. While he’s at the bar, killing back shots of Jack Daniels, his lovely girlfriend Mimi Choi is indeed at home. In her pajamas, watching Shameless, and eating Cheetos.
Bars have never been her scene. And it’s much better if he does this on his own. That’s how their makeshift midweek weekend tends to go. Neither of them mind. Especially not Taylor.
It had took him some time to adapt to it. To the dynamic of Mimi enjoying him fucking other women. The first few times, it had felt like an affair. It’s never been in his heart to be unfaithful, no, he genuinely loves Mimi. While he was adapting, she was enjoying it a lot more than he had been. Thankfully, that’s changed now. The adaptation period has worn off.
Some may say Taylor’s haircut belongs more in the seventies than it does in this decade. Long, choppy, bangs, all black, teased with hairspray. If you look at him in the right light, he looks akin to a pre-heroin Keith Richards. That’s what he’s always been told, anyway. Sporting a leather jacket and a pair of blue jeans, he’s been looking around the bar as discretely as possible.
He carries with him the mystique of an era already gone. Which Taylor has found to be something that works in his favor. Women love musicians. Especially musicians in bars. Typically, he wouldn’t drink this much. But the scent of alcohol mixed with his cologne and the light aroma of his shampoo is almost pheromonal. If he wants tonight to be successful, he has to agree on all the help he can get.
The music is flowing from a jukebox, something new and on the borderline of pop-punk. Not his thing, but he isn’t paying too much attention.
Not to the music, anyway.
A lot of this is a social nightmare. But he manages it somehow, having adapted, and knowing who and what he is doing this for. He likes to make Mimi happy. He likes to make her feel good. Plus, what man isn’t content he gets to fuck whoever he wants?
So long as Taylor remembers to record it. He won’t make the mistake of forgetting to set his phone to record ever again. Giving a light chuckle at the memory, the tall looker kills back the last of his Jack Daniels and places the shot glass upside down on the bar top. No more liquid courage for him, he’s got himself under control.
There’s a woman sitting at the end of the bar. The wavy shirt makes way to some long, freshly shaven legs. A delicate tan rests upon her skin. Wearing a tube top, her breasts are snugly held up by some sort of miracle. Billowing hair full of volume and the scent of cherry shampoo rests over her shoulders, a lovely shade of dirty blonde. She’s gorgeous, with French tipped nails and a pair of heels any man would love, pray, hope to be stepped on with. A gorgeous woman with an aura of class, despite her overtly lewd outfit. Tossing back whiskey shots with her friends like it’s nobody’s business.
Fucking delicious, a woman after his own heart.
After dropping a few bills onto the counter for his shots, Taylor stands up from his stool. Standing at his full height, adjusting his leather jacket a bit, he starts his stride. There’s no one already he’s already had. Taylor’s grateful for that as he looks around the bar during his walk. This should be an easy one, plus, she’s blonde.
He and Mimi love some blonde action.
The woman eyes him as he approaches, giving a pearly white smile. He’s tall, he’s hot, and she digs the leather jacket. Taylor returns her smile, licking his lips before sitting down. “Mind if I trade you a drink for your name?”
One hand goes to her thigh, his calloused musician hand on her soft skin. A true contrast. But he’s bold. Being bold and outgoing has gotten him this far.
If he were any other man in this damn bar, she would have slapped the piss out of him. Maybe even yanked out her pepper spray. But instead, she offers her name. “Tanya, and… yes, sure. Jameson?”
“One Jameson, for the lovely Tanya,” Taylor rubs at her thigh even more, letting his callouses lightly massage her skin. The bartender gives a nod, pouring the lovely blonde bombshell another shot of Jameson. He isn’t going to openly judge her about her tastes in alcohol.
But he’ll totally gossip about it with Mimi later on tonight.
Tanya tosses back the shot without so much as a groan. Truly a good match for him tonight. This bar is a goldmine. He keeps rubbing her thigh, pressing his luck, moving his hand higher and higher, under her skirt. When he finds she isn’t wearing any panties, his heart skips quite the fucking beat.
“Someone’s eager,” Tanya remarks as she leans a bit closer to Taylor.
“You’re the one not wearing any undies, Blondie.” Taylor knows what he came here for. And now he knows exactly what Tanya the Jameson lover is here for. The same thing.
They both wanna fuck like rabbits.
And, well, Taylor wants to record it. But she doesn’t exactly have to know that.
Tanya giggles, her breath smells of booze and cigarettes. And he fucking loves it, the way their tastes and scents will linger together makes him want to tremble and shiver at the mere thought. She’s a fucking beauty. Making his cock press up against his boxers, his jeans, quite a bit hard. It’s a discomfort every man knows about all too well.
Taylor leans over now, his hand finally leaving her thigh to slowly trail the very tips of his digits against her flesh as he moves her hair out of the way. Leaning in deeper, his breath hits the lovely blonde’s ear. A rather sudden outbreak of goosebumps appear on her skin.
But he’s still going lower, lower, down to her neck. The tender, supple flesh is purely irresistible to his natural pout, his lips gently pressing against her pulse point. A purr leaves his lips as his other hand moves to the other side of her face, an almost caring hold to have her in.
Taylor doesn’t actually care. He just wants to fuck her guts out and record it. Clearly a man of simple pleasures.
Carefully, his face pulls up, lips back against her ear. Every word placing a soft kiss to her lobe. “Would you like to get out of here with me?”
Tanya’s breathing becomes apparent to her, having to focus on every inhale and exhale to keep herself from moaning too much. Or too loudly. Because this shit is driving her absolutely fucking wild.
“I’ll call us an Uber,” she finally manages to respond. Good thing she offered the Uber, he’s left his phone at the motel room. Ready to record.
It’s a whirlwind of clothes coming off when they finally make it to the motel room. Taylor only had a moment to set his phone to record. It rests on a mini tripod behind the curtain, on top of the air conditioner. Which he was smart enough to turn off. Nothing ruins a video like a loud HVAC system. Only the camera is exposed, yet not obvious.
Taylor’s jacket is on the floor now, with his jeans, with her skirt, and now with her tube top. Her breasts are immaculate, he pushes her onto the bed and crawls right on top of her. One hand goes to each breast, gently squeezing while easing his head down.
Tanya lets out a loud squeal as Taylor wraps his lips around her right nipple. His tongue swirls around the swollen nub, his mouth creating a gentle suction. As he laps and suckles upon one breast, his hand teases the other. Squeezing, kneading, pinching at her nipple contently.
She tastes so fucking good, and knowing it’s all being record, it feels amazing. He can’t wait to watch it with Mimi.
Tanya writhes underneath of Taylor, her red lips parting as she moans and squirms. “Fuck yeah, baby,” she cooes at him as her hand raises, tangling in the messy black hair. Pulling the hairspray abused strands apart. Taylor switches it up, moving to her other breast and suckling, lapping. Squeezing and kneading on the other.
She can feel his cock as it pokes out from the opening of his boxers. The head leaking precum heavily down her thigh. Fuck, he wants her so bad. Tanya’s never been one for an excess amount of foreplay, but damn does this random bar guy do it so fucking well.
Taylor pulls back, moving himself off of her breasts. Easing himself up on his hands, he stares down at her for a moment. Such a good little whore for the evening. He’s having the time of his life.
Finally, he sits up on his knees. His body is sculpted very well, he’s thin, but his stone is wonderfully toned. A trail of hair down his chest, covering his thighs. Taylor hooks his thumbs into his boxers, moving them down his legs and shaking them onto the floor. Tanya gasps as his cock comes into view.
“Wow…” she muses, seeing the insane amount of precum. Taylor grabs his cock, giving it a few good pumps before leaning back over the mystified woman. He likes that look on her face.
Keeping his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he eases himself down onto his opposite elbow. Her pussy is trimmed up wonderfully, as he presses his head to her entrance he can feel how fucking soaked she is.
Had Tanya been soaked since the bar? His ego would certainly like to think so. Therefore, he holds onto that thought. He got this bitch sopping and dripping long before they ever even reached the motel room.
Without warning, unable to wait any longer, Taylor pushes his cock right into her pussy. Tanya squeals, her hands clapping down on his forearms as his cock penetrates her pussy. She can feel it throb, she can feel it opening her up and she fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Oh fuck that feels so fucking good!”
“Fuck, you’re fuckin’ tight, babe!” Taylor pushes more inside of her, before pulling his hips back and slamming right back into her. Why should he show her mercy? He doesn’t give a shit about her. This is for Mimi, after all.
Tanya continues to moan, Taylor picking up a good pace, slamming his cock in and out of her, their combined fluids leak down the crack of her ass, staining the bed forever with the scent and taste of their little tryst. The scent of sex is starting to linger in the air.
Grabbing Tanya’s wrists, he pins her down to the bed. Sweat is starting to bead on his forehead as he watches her. Looking at the hypnotic way her tits bounce with each thrust. The way her lips move when she moans. The way the veins on her neck bulge. She looks like a fucking goddess right now, a goddess just for him and Mimi to use.
“Gonna cum! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
“Yeah? You gonna cum on that cock? Go ahead, baby, come on, cum for me, niiiice and haaard,” he drags out the words with a little bit of an upscale drawl, ending the sentence with a deep growl. Biting his lip and staring at her.
Taylor keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, fucking her hard, fast, making those hypnotic tits jiggle and bounce. Tanya begins to writhe hard underneath of him, her body squirming as her moans and sounds of delight get higher and louder.
“Oooh, there it is, there it is, come on, baby girl,” Taylor keeps speaking, watching as her eyes go wide before rolling back into her head. Those already tense pussy walls clench up around his cock, each thrust requiring a bit more of a shove to get inside. With her insides seizing up around his cock, he has to fight his own orgasm.
A hand moves into her hair as he leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead as Tanya whimpers through her orgasm. “I know, I know, yeah, I know,” each word breathy and almost airy against her forehead. He loves making a bitch cum. More so he likes working them through it, and working them back down.
Once Tanya’s pussy stops convulsing around his cock, Taylor yanks it out. A nice rush of squirt pops out behind of him, making him growl a little bit. “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, huh?” This chick is a fucking babe. He might have to seek her out again sometime.
He grabs her and starts to help her onto all fours, but horizontal on the bed. That way she’s facing where the camera is pointing. An underrated view, according to his Mimi.
“Come on, baby, gimme that dick,” she pleads as Taylor mounts behind her. He gives a nice, firm slap to her right ass cheek, making her squeal in surprise.
Without much warning, Taylor grabs her hips and instantly shoves his cock right back into her hole. Tanya starts moaning again as he starts to fuck her. The way his hips bounce against her ass creating ripples on her skin.
It’s a miracle she doesn’t see the camera, but that’s partially because her eyes keep rolling back into her skull. His cock feels like fucking heaven inside of her, making her entire body shake and tremble. And now with his balls hitting against her clit, she feels like the entire world is going to collapse on top of her. And she fucking welcomes it. Toes curling, legs curling until her calves touch her thighs.
Growling, grunting, panting and sweating. The show Taylor is putting on for the camera is absolutely insane. Yanking Tanya back on his cock at the same time he pushes his hips forward. Fast, hard, deep, powerful thrusts spearing his prick inside of her.
Tanya grabs onto the edge of the mattress, holding her body up as best as she can against the punk rock as fuck lover’s powerful fucking.
He feels so fucking unstoppable. The way her pussy tenses and clenches on his cock every time he pushes in, as if those walls are trying to push him back out. But nothing is going to make him get out of that pussy just yet.
One hand goes to her hair, snaking his fingers into those gorgeous blonde waves until he reaches her scalp. Then, he clenches his fingers up, pulling at her hair and forcing her back to arch even more. That delicious, rippling ass perking up more as her back goes down.
“Oh fuck! That’s a fucking amazing angle!” Tanya cries out, feeling her eyes go wide again. She’s gonna cum, and she wants it so fucking bad. Taylor can tell, too, and he wants her to fucking mess up the bed sheets even more. Fuck, his only thought is to make her cum like a fountain! Such a hot fucking slut, all he wants is to make her lose her mind again. And it has a bit to do with the fact he’s close, too. He can feel his nut building up, his balls tensing. He’s close to being done.
But Tanya gets one more. Otherwise, he failed.
“That’s it, you can do it, cum for me, baby girl. Come on. Give it to me, cum for me,” he clenches on her hair even more, grunting loudly.
Tanya’s eyes roll back into her head again, her body trembling now, knuckles white as she clenches them around the edge of the bed. Everything collapses around her again, and her cunt seizes up and convulses right around Taylor’s cock. As if her body is naturally trying to milk the cum from him, siphon it from his balls.
Finally, as she clenches and gets even more soaked, Taylor can’t hold on anymore. He rag dolls her rigid body, yanking her back over and over again as he pounds four harsh thrusts clap like thunder against her body.
He grunts like a fucking beast as he loses himself. His balls shoot, rope after rope, filling up her pussy, mixing with her own juices and dripping out of her hole as he holds himself inside of her.
The minutes pass, and Taylor finally lets her go. Falling back onto the bed. Luck is on his side even more tonight. Tanya gets up and goes to the bathroom. Once he hears the door lock, he stands up and immediately redresses. He’s quick about grabbing his phone and, after blowing a kiss to end the recording, he makes his way out of the room. Leaving behind nothing but his cum in a confused woman.1 / 1Loading...Loading...- Tuesday nights are typically meant to be spent at home. Usually couples are snuggled up in bed, watching television or mindlessly scrolling through TikTok dances and misinformation. But, not these two. For this couple in particular, this is their Friday night.
Not having regular weekends off has never been a big deal. But for Taylor McGinnity, it does tend to make the bar pickings a little slim. While he’s at the bar, killing back shots of Jack Daniels, his lovely girlfriend Mimi Choi is indeed at home. In her pajamas, watching Shameless, and eating Cheetos.
Bars have never been her scene. And it’s much better if he does this on his own. That’s how their makeshift midweek weekend tends to go. Neither of them mind. Especially not Taylor.
It had took him some time to adapt to it. To the dynamic of Mimi enjoying him fucking other women. The first few times, it had felt like an affair. It’s never been in his heart to be unfaithful, no, he genuinely loves Mimi. While he was adapting, she was enjoying it a lot more than he had been. Thankfully, that’s changed now. The adaptation period has worn off.
Some may say Taylor’s haircut belongs more in the seventies than it does in this decade. Long, choppy, bangs, all black, teased with hairspray. If you look at him in the right light, he looks akin to a pre-heroin Keith Richards. That’s what he’s always been told, anyway. Sporting a leather jacket and a pair of blue jeans, he’s been looking around the bar as discretely as possible.
He carries with him the mystique of an era already gone. Which Taylor has found to be something that works in his favor. Women love musicians. Especially musicians in bars. Typically, he wouldn’t drink this much. But the scent of alcohol mixed with his cologne and the light aroma of his shampoo is almost pheromonal. If he wants tonight to be successful, he has to agree on all the help he can get.
The music is flowing from a jukebox, something new and on the borderline of pop-punk. Not his thing, but he isn’t paying too much attention.
Not to the music, anyway.
A lot of this is a social nightmare. But he manages it somehow, having adapted, and knowing who and what he is doing this for. He likes to make Mimi happy. He likes to make her feel good. Plus, what man isn’t content he gets to fuck whoever he wants?
So long as Taylor remembers to record it. He won’t make the mistake of forgetting to set his phone to record ever again. Giving a light chuckle at the memory, the tall looker kills back the last of his Jack Daniels and places the shot glass upside down on the bar top. No more liquid courage for him, he’s got himself under control.
There’s a woman sitting at the end of the bar. The wavy shirt makes way to some long, freshly shaven legs. A delicate tan rests upon her skin. Wearing a tube top, her breasts are snugly held up by some sort of miracle. Billowing hair full of volume and the scent of cherry shampoo rests over her shoulders, a lovely shade of dirty blonde. She’s gorgeous, with French tipped nails and a pair of heels any man would love, pray, hope to be stepped on with. A gorgeous woman with an aura of class, despite her overtly lewd outfit. Tossing back whiskey shots with her friends like it’s nobody’s business.
Fucking delicious, a woman after his own heart.
After dropping a few bills onto the counter for his shots, Taylor stands up from his stool. Standing at his full height, adjusting his leather jacket a bit, he starts his stride. There’s no one already he’s already had. Taylor’s grateful for that as he looks around the bar during his walk. This should be an easy one, plus, she’s blonde.
He and Mimi love some blonde action.
The woman eyes him as he approaches, giving a pearly white smile. He’s tall, he’s hot, and she digs the leather jacket. Taylor returns her smile, licking his lips before sitting down. “Mind if I trade you a drink for your name?”
One hand goes to her thigh, his calloused musician hand on her soft skin. A true contrast. But he’s bold. Being bold and outgoing has gotten him this far.
If he were any other man in this damn bar, she would have slapped the piss out of him. Maybe even yanked out her pepper spray. But instead, she offers her name. “Tanya, and… yes, sure. Jameson?”
“One Jameson, for the lovely Tanya,” Taylor rubs at her thigh even more, letting his callouses lightly massage her skin. The bartender gives a nod, pouring the lovely blonde bombshell another shot of Jameson. He isn’t going to openly judge her about her tastes in alcohol.
But he’ll totally gossip about it with Mimi later on tonight.
Tanya tosses back the shot without so much as a groan. Truly a good match for him tonight. This bar is a goldmine. He keeps rubbing her thigh, pressing his luck, moving his hand higher and higher, under her skirt. When he finds she isn’t wearing any panties, his heart skips quite the fucking beat.
“Someone’s eager,” Tanya remarks as she leans a bit closer to Taylor.
“You’re the one not wearing any undies, Blondie.” Taylor knows what he came here for. And now he knows exactly what Tanya the Jameson lover is here for. The same thing.
They both wanna fuck like rabbits.
And, well, Taylor wants to record it. But she doesn’t exactly have to know that.
Tanya giggles, her breath smells of booze and cigarettes. And he fucking loves it, the way their tastes and scents will linger together makes him want to tremble and shiver at the mere thought. She’s a fucking beauty. Making his cock press up against his boxers, his jeans, quite a bit hard. It’s a discomfort every man knows about all too well.
Taylor leans over now, his hand finally leaving her thigh to slowly trail the very tips of his digits against her flesh as he moves her hair out of the way. Leaning in deeper, his breath hits the lovely blonde’s ear. A rather sudden outbreak of goosebumps appear on her skin.
But he’s still going lower, lower, down to her neck. The tender, supple flesh is purely irresistible to his natural pout, his lips gently pressing against her pulse point. A purr leaves his lips as his other hand moves to the other side of her face, an almost caring hold to have her in.
Taylor doesn’t actually care. He just wants to fuck her guts out and record it. Clearly a man of simple pleasures.
Carefully, his face pulls up, lips back against her ear. Every word placing a soft kiss to her lobe. “Would you like to get out of here with me?”
Tanya’s breathing becomes apparent to her, having to focus on every inhale and exhale to keep herself from moaning too much. Or too loudly. Because this shit is driving her absolutely fucking wild.
“I’ll call us an Uber,” she finally manages to respond. Good thing she offered the Uber, he’s left his phone at the motel room. Ready to record.
It’s a whirlwind of clothes coming off when they finally make it to the motel room. Taylor only had a moment to set his phone to record. It rests on a mini tripod behind the curtain, on top of the air conditioner. Which he was smart enough to turn off. Nothing ruins a video like a loud HVAC system. Only the camera is exposed, yet not obvious.
Taylor’s jacket is on the floor now, with his jeans, with her skirt, and now with her tube top. Her breasts are immaculate, he pushes her onto the bed and crawls right on top of her. One hand goes to each breast, gently squeezing while easing his head down.
Tanya lets out a loud squeal as Taylor wraps his lips around her right nipple. His tongue swirls around the swollen nub, his mouth creating a gentle suction. As he laps and suckles upon one breast, his hand teases the other. Squeezing, kneading, pinching at her nipple contently.
She tastes so fucking good, and knowing it’s all being record, it feels amazing. He can’t wait to watch it with Mimi.
Tanya writhes underneath of Taylor, her red lips parting as she moans and squirms. “Fuck yeah, baby,” she cooes at him as her hand raises, tangling in the messy black hair. Pulling the hairspray abused strands apart. Taylor switches it up, moving to her other breast and suckling, lapping. Squeezing and kneading on the other.
She can feel his cock as it pokes out from the opening of his boxers. The head leaking precum heavily down her thigh. Fuck, he wants her so bad. Tanya’s never been one for an excess amount of foreplay, but damn does this random bar guy do it so fucking well.
Taylor pulls back, moving himself off of her breasts. Easing himself up on his hands, he stares down at her for a moment. Such a good little whore for the evening. He’s having the time of his life.
Finally, he sits up on his knees. His body is sculpted very well, he’s thin, but his stone is wonderfully toned. A trail of hair down his chest, covering his thighs. Taylor hooks his thumbs into his boxers, moving them down his legs and shaking them onto the floor. Tanya gasps as his cock comes into view.
“Wow…” she muses, seeing the insane amount of precum. Taylor grabs his cock, giving it a few good pumps before leaning back over the mystified woman. He likes that look on her face.
Keeping his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he eases himself down onto his opposite elbow. Her pussy is trimmed up wonderfully, as he presses his head to her entrance he can feel how fucking soaked she is.
Had Tanya been soaked since the bar? His ego would certainly like to think so. Therefore, he holds onto that thought. He got this bitch sopping and dripping long before they ever even reached the motel room.
Without warning, unable to wait any longer, Taylor pushes his cock right into her pussy. Tanya squeals, her hands clapping down on his forearms as his cock penetrates her pussy. She can feel it throb, she can feel it opening her up and she fucking loves it.
“Fuck! Oh fuck that feels so fucking good!”
“Fuck, you’re fuckin’ tight, babe!” Taylor pushes more inside of her, before pulling his hips back and slamming right back into her. Why should he show her mercy? He doesn’t give a shit about her. This is for Mimi, after all.
Tanya continues to moan, Taylor picking up a good pace, slamming his cock in and out of her, their combined fluids leak down the crack of her ass, staining the bed forever with the scent and taste of their little tryst. The scent of sex is starting to linger in the air.
Grabbing Tanya’s wrists, he pins her down to the bed. Sweat is starting to bead on his forehead as he watches her. Looking at the hypnotic way her tits bounce with each thrust. The way her lips move when she moans. The way the veins on her neck bulge. She looks like a fucking goddess right now, a goddess just for him and Mimi to use.
“Gonna cum! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
“Yeah? You gonna cum on that cock? Go ahead, baby, come on, cum for me, niiiice and haaard,” he drags out the words with a little bit of an upscale drawl, ending the sentence with a deep growl. Biting his lip and staring at her.
Taylor keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, fucking her hard, fast, making those hypnotic tits jiggle and bounce. Tanya begins to writhe hard underneath of him, her body squirming as her moans and sounds of delight get higher and louder.
“Oooh, there it is, there it is, come on, baby girl,” Taylor keeps speaking, watching as her eyes go wide before rolling back into her head. Those already tense pussy walls clench up around his cock, each thrust requiring a bit more of a shove to get inside. With her insides seizing up around his cock, he has to fight his own orgasm.
A hand moves into her hair as he leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead as Tanya whimpers through her orgasm. “I know, I know, yeah, I know,” each word breathy and almost airy against her forehead. He loves making a bitch cum. More so he likes working them through it, and working them back down.
Once Tanya’s pussy stops convulsing around his cock, Taylor yanks it out. A nice rush of squirt pops out behind of him, making him growl a little bit. “Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, huh?” This chick is a fucking babe. He might have to seek her out again sometime.
He grabs her and starts to help her onto all fours, but horizontal on the bed. That way she’s facing where the camera is pointing. An underrated view, according to his Mimi.
“Come on, baby, gimme that dick,” she pleads as Taylor mounts behind her. He gives a nice, firm slap to her right ass cheek, making her squeal in surprise.
Without much warning, Taylor grabs her hips and instantly shoves his cock right back into her hole. Tanya starts moaning again as he starts to fuck her. The way his hips bounce against her ass creating ripples on her skin.
It’s a miracle she doesn’t see the camera, but that’s partially because her eyes keep rolling back into her skull. His cock feels like fucking heaven inside of her, making her entire body shake and tremble. And now with his balls hitting against her clit, she feels like the entire world is going to collapse on top of her. And she fucking welcomes it. Toes curling, legs curling until her calves touch her thighs.
Growling, grunting, panting and sweating. The show Taylor is putting on for the camera is absolutely insane. Yanking Tanya back on his cock at the same time he pushes his hips forward. Fast, hard, deep, powerful thrusts spearing his prick inside of her.
Tanya grabs onto the edge of the mattress, holding her body up as best as she can against the punk rock as fuck lover’s powerful fucking.
He feels so fucking unstoppable. The way her pussy tenses and clenches on his cock every time he pushes in, as if those walls are trying to push him back out. But nothing is going to make him get out of that pussy just yet.
One hand goes to her hair, snaking his fingers into those gorgeous blonde waves until he reaches her scalp. Then, he clenches his fingers up, pulling at her hair and forcing her back to arch even more. That delicious, rippling ass perking up more as her back goes down.
“Oh fuck! That’s a fucking amazing angle!” Tanya cries out, feeling her eyes go wide again. She’s gonna cum, and she wants it so fucking bad. Taylor can tell, too, and he wants her to fucking mess up the bed sheets even more. Fuck, his only thought is to make her cum like a fountain! Such a hot fucking slut, all he wants is to make her lose her mind again. And it has a bit to do with the fact he’s close, too. He can feel his nut building up, his balls tensing. He’s close to being done.
But Tanya gets one more. Otherwise, he failed.
“That’s it, you can do it, cum for me, baby girl. Come on. Give it to me, cum for me,” he clenches on her hair even more, grunting loudly.
Tanya’s eyes roll back into her head again, her body trembling now, knuckles white as she clenches them around the edge of the bed. Everything collapses around her again, and her cunt seizes up and convulses right around Taylor’s cock. As if her body is naturally trying to milk the cum from him, siphon it from his balls.
Finally, as she clenches and gets even more soaked, Taylor can’t hold on anymore. He rag dolls her rigid body, yanking her back over and over again as he pounds four harsh thrusts clap like thunder against her body.
He grunts like a fucking beast as he loses himself. His balls shoot, rope after rope, filling up her pussy, mixing with her own juices and dripping out of her hole as he holds himself inside of her.
The minutes pass, and Taylor finally lets her go. Falling back onto the bed. Luck is on his side even more tonight. Tanya gets up and goes to the bathroom. Once he hears the door lock, he stands up and immediately redresses. He’s quick about grabbing his phone and, after blowing a kiss to end the recording, he makes his way out of the room. Leaving behind nothing but his cum in a confused woman.No more chapters.