Derek enters the room, his thick body framed by the doorway, His hairy chest glistens slightly under the room's soft lights. As soon as his gaze lands on you, it's as if his eyes widen, an appreciative low growl rolls off his lips. He’s quiet, almost reverent as he takes a moment to drink you in.
You watch, with fearful anticipation, as Lucy gets on her knees, her shaking fingers gripped onto the waistband of his briefs. As she slowly pulls them down, your breath halts. The sight that unfolds is almost terrifying in its eroticism.
His cock is enormous, long and thick, riddled with veins. It uncoils like a colossal animal freed from its cage, curving slightly upwards. His balls, heavy and round, hang low between his hairy thighs. You can't help but whimper audibly at the sight, a helpless and pathetic whimper that spikes the tension in the room.
Your eyes flutter shut briefly as you take in the sight before you. The enormity of his cock, the stiffness, the dark engorged veins that pulse with each beat of his heart. It's an anomaly, it's mesmerizing. It's almost as thick as your wrist.
His balls are full, the fuzzy sac heavy with cum, and you're mesmerized by the sight of it. Your eyes are drawn to the glistening precum oozing from the tip, the musky scent of him wafting through the air.
You draw in a shaky breath, groaning softly as the smell of his arousal, potent and acrid, fills your nose.
It's disgusting, it's obscene.
You register your own whimper, high and needy, as your body reacts on its own. Your thong is soaked through, your juices drooling down your thighs, staining the pristine white sheets beneath you.
You watch wide-eyed as Lucy leans in, the older woman taking his heavy cock in her hands, her fingers barely wrapping around its girth. She works to fit him into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she tries to accommodate his thickness. It is a lewd sight that sends an illicit thrill down your spine.
And all the while, he's watching you, his lust-filled eyes on your face, devouring your every reaction. There's a smug satisfaction in his gaze as he says, huskily, "You look beautiful, Taylor." He groans, his large hands tangled in Lucy's hair, guiding her head along his length. "You did a great job, babe," he murmurs to Lucy, never breaking eye contact with you.
The sound of Lucy's gagging, the obscene wet sounds filling the room as she works his shaft with her mouth and tongue is maddening. It's so fucking filthy, so downright vulgar, and yet it’s kindling something feral in you.
Your hips subtly roll against the satin sheets, the friction against your body sending sparks of pleasure through you. You bite your lip trying to stifle a moan, but a strangled whimper slips out anyway, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.
You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, can feel the warmth spreading through your body, pooling at your core. Breeder Pill was doing its job all too well. Your pussy clenches around nothing, aching to be filled. But all you can do is hold your position, and watch as Derek's massive organ comes to life fully, wet and sloppy from his wife's ministrations, ready for its task. Ready for you.
The two share a brief, heated glance, something intimate and conspiratorial in their gaze. Lucy rises on her tiptoes, reaching up to plant a passionate kiss on his lips. It's a tender moment, their bodies melding together in a loving embrace.
He grunts as she pulls away, a string of saliva trailing from their lips. Lucy stumbles back, leaving him standing there, his massive cock bobbing obscenely in front of him. He turns to face you, a smirk playing on his lips, his eyes twinkling with a glint you've never seen before.
He pulls himself up onto the bed in front of you, his heavy, hairy body making the mattress dip beneath his weight. The frame creaks ominously under his bulk, the sound resonating across the silent room.
He shifts closer, his thighs spread wide on either side of your exposed body, giving him a clear view between your legs. Your breath hitches, the air thickening as he settles himself comfortably.
His scent hits you then, a mix of tweed, sweat, and a lingering musk that is uniquely male. The smell is potent and dominating, it invades your nostrils, seeping into your senses, and making your head spin.
"How're we doing, Taylor?" he asks in his typical 'friendly neighborhood white ‘guy voice. There's a sinister undercurrent beneath his mild tone, a dark, unnerving lust that's hard to ignore. "Remember, deep breaths. We're doing this together, okay?"
Your heart is pounding painfully in your chest. Your mind is screaming, 'No!' but your body... your body is louder. Your gaze is glued to his monstrous organ, your eyes drinking in the intimate details of his arousal. The sight is obscene, filthy beyond words, and yet, a sick pride swells within you knowing you're the cause.
Your mouth goes dry as he inches closer, the smell of him only enhancing your arousal. You watch as his cock twitches with anticipation, the sheer girth and length of it making you gulp. Your pussy clenches, your juices soaking your panties, and dribbling onto the sheets.
Reality crashes hard onto you again. You’ve never been a woman in front of a man before, let alone naked. You'd only ever used X-Change for fun... a bit of thrill, a distraction from the mundane. But now...
The irony of it all hits you in a wave. You, who'd always sought pleasure, was now serving as a reluctant vessel for someone else's satisfaction.
As the seconds tick by, your body betrays you. Your heart thuds in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears like a steady, persistent drum. Your trembling hands are balled into fists, the knuckles turning white from the strain. Your stomach churns with a mixture of fear and anticipation, a sickly sensation that makes you swallow thickly. Your mouth is dry, your tongue sticking to the roof of it, a strange metallic taste lingering at the back of your throat.
You're so caught up in your thoughts that you barely feel it at first. A heavy thump of something hard and hot against your belly. There's an instant reaction, your body arching upwards, a gasp escaping your lips. You look down and see the bulging head of his cock, the glossy skin stretched taut with arousal, the slit leaking a steady flow of clear precum.
"Fuck!" you whimper out, your eyes wide and terrified. The fat head of his cock leaves a sticky trail of precum on your belly, smearing the white lace of your lingerie. You can feel the warmth of the liquid seeping through the fine lace, hot and wet against your skin.
The sight of his thick cock sprawled across your slender belly sends shockwaves of arousal through your body. Your pussy throbs, an insistent pressure building within you.
Your eyes flit between the root and the tip of his cock, the length of it both quite intimidating. You can't help but imagine what it would feel like inside you. How deep would it go? The thoughts make you whimper, a high-pitched sound that echoes around the room.
Mr. Wilson chuckles at your reaction, his eyes glinting with lust. You watch as his fingers wrap around the shaft of his cock, his thumb rubbing over the leaking slit in circular motions.
Suddenly, Mrs. Wilson lets out a sob, the sound slicing through the thick silence. With a final, fleeting glance at you, she rushes out of the room, leaving you alone with Mr. Wilson. He doesn't react to her departure, his attention solely focused on you.
You're lost in a whirlwind of sensations, your body betraying your mind at every turn. His cock looks so big, so daunting. The precum is still leaking onto your belly, hot and slick against your skin. The sight of his arousal triggers something primal within you, your body responding without your consent.
His precum stains your lingerie and skin, but you barely notice it. Your entire focus is on the throbbing ache building between your legs. You can feel your pussy clenching around nothing, the dampness seeping through your panties and wetting the sheets beneath you.
The reality of your situation hits you then. This isn't just some fun sex game anymore. It's no longer just you and your body. It's Mrs. Wilson's tears, Mr. Wilson's lust, your family's desperation. And your sick, overwhelming arousal in the face of it all.
The way Derek looks at you SHOULD have made you want to crawl and hide. Instead, it sends a shiver down your spine, your arousal skyrocketing to critical levels. You’d never been looked at like that before – like you were a piece of meat meant to be devoured.
“Christ almighty, you’re wet," Mr. Wilson mumbles, and you can feel your cheeks burning. It’s one thing to know you’re aroused. It's a completely different beast when someone else points it out. He leans in towards you, his beer belly pressing against your knees as he aligns himself with your throbbing cunt. His breath is hot against your skin and you involuntarily shudder at the sensation. His cock is a heated rod against your belly, leaving a trail of precum wherever it touches.
Then, he pulls back, his hands reaching for the base of his massive cock, positioning it at your entrance. You can feel the hot, sticky bulb of his cockhead probing at your delicate folds, spreading you open wide. Reality crashes back onto you then. You’re about to have this incredibly daunting cock inside of you. You're about to be fucked for the first time. You're about to be split open by a cock bigger than your forearm.
He pushes into you and you gasp, your eyes opening wide, your hands flying to his chest. You feel your pussy being stretched wide, the insistent throb of your arousal mixed with the sudden, overwhelming pressure of his cockhead pushing past your slick folds. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust before he begins slowly pushing into you.
Inch by excruciating inch, he fills you up.
You can feel it all – every vein, every ridge of his cock as it slowly impales you. It's too much – his size, his girth, the way he spreads you open. You can't help but whimper, your hands clutching at his chest, your body instinctively trying to pull away from the onslaught.
He doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. The animalistic grunts that escape his lips only fuel your arousal further. You feel him slide deeper into you, the pleasure overcoming the pain in a rush of sensations that leave you gasping for breath. You can feel the sensation of being filled to the brim by him. It's an intensely intimate moment, every single inch of his fat cock sliding deeper and deeper, stretching you for him.
It's a strange combination of pain and pleasure. Your body rebels, your muscles clenching around his girth as your mind tries to process the enormity of the sensation. And then, he bottoms out. You feel his massive balls smashing against your ass and a high-pitched moan escapes your throat. You’ve been fucked.
He thrusts, and you gasp at the obscene sensation, the stretch and drag of his cock stirring something deep within you. Your pussy clenches around him, the slick walls of your cunt wrapping around his cock like a glove. You tremble under him, your body working to accommodate his size, your mind lost in the sensation of being so thoroughly filled.
Every breath you take, every whimper that escapes your lips, every tug and pull of your muscles around him, it all serves to remind you that you're not alone in this. You're here, with him, his cock buried to the hilt inside of you. His weight presses against your body, his grunts filling your ears, his scent filling your nose. Everything about him is overwhelming, intoxicating, and you can't help but cry out as he grinds against you.
His broad chest is covered in a sheen of sweat, the hairs sticking to his skin. His musky scent fills your senses, the familiar stench of a man. His cock throbs inside you, the heat and fullness leaving you gasping for breath. His balls slap against your ass with each thrust, the rhythmic slapping sound echoing through the room.
The reality hits you then, harder than a punch to the gut. You're being used. You're here for him to fuck, for him to use however he pleases. You're not in control here, you're just a vessel for his pleasure. Your mind rebels at the idea, but your body... your body responds. The thought of being used, of being so thoroughly dominated by him, sends a thrill of arousal coursing through you. You're being fucked. His cock is inside you, filling you, stretching you. You've been reduced to a tight hole for him to pump his cum into. The thought leaves you reeling, your arousal spiking to levels you didn't think possible.
As the initial shock wears off, replaced by an odd sense of contentment, he pulls back and thrusts back in, a jarring fuck that sends you spiraling into pleasure. His strokes are rough and unrelenting, a relentless rhythm you find yourself falling in tune with. You're reduced to senseless whimpering in response, the melody of pleasure-pain taking over everything else.
His weight presses you hard into the mattress, his heavy body completely trapping you beneath him. The way he fills you, stretches you, owns you. You're just a soft, pliant body under his.
His rough thrusts are relentless, his cock slamming back into you again and again with ruthless intensity. The sheer force of his movement forces your hips upward, your body helplessly yielding to him.
You're pushed past the point where pleasure is comfortable, past the point where you're mentally present. All you can focus on is his pounding cock, the unrelenting rhythm of his thrusts.
Each thrust pushes the air from your lungs, stinging tears pricking at your eyes as you gasp for breath. Your belly distends slightly with every push, the broad head of his cock stretching your insides to the limit.
You can feel every vein of his cock, the aggressive pulse, the way it twitches and throbs inside you. His balls slap against your ass, the rhythmic sound adding to the symphony of your whimpering and screaming.
"You like that, don't ya?" he growls, his voice a dark promise in your ear. "You like being fucked like a little slut."
His words are a slap to your senses, the harsh language stirring a primal reaction from you. "No... no... I..." You stutter out, unable to finish your sentence, unable to deny what's happening.
"Look at you," he chuckles, his hand coming down to caress your belly. "You're stuffed full, so fucking full of my cock."
The crude truth in his words sends a shock of arousal through you. You're filled, so deeply filled by him, taken and used for his pleasure.
"Feel me, Taylor. Feel my cock inside you." He pushes deeper, forcing a moan from you.
You feel your pussy clenching around his girth, your body instinctively responding to his movements. A high-pitched mewl escapes you as he begins to pick up his pace, his hips snapping against yours in a brutal rhythm.
There's no finesse, no gentle caress, just the ruthless pounding of his cock inside you. His cockhead hammers against your cervix, eliciting choked sobs from you. You whimper beneath him, your hands uselessly clawing at his broad shoulders. His thrusts are brutal, unyielding, his cock pumping into you like a piston.
"God, you're so tight," he groans, his voice strained with effort. "You're so fucking good for me."
Your mind is spiraling, the world colored in shades of pleasure and pain. It's all too much, the endless onslaught of his cock, the rough abuse of your body, the wantonness of it all. You're completely taken, owned, and used by this man.
He reaches down, his fingers finding your swollen clit, and you shudder under his touch. You feel a jolt of erotic pleasure as he rubs circles around your sensitive nub, his movements matching the rhythm of his thrusts. You can feel your body tightening around him, the tension knotting in your lower belly. You're teetering on the brink, the sweet release just an elusive touch away.
"Please... please..." you mewl beneath him, your voice hoarse from your continuous crying. "Go slow... you're too big..."
He chuckles, his movements not slowing one bit. "Oh, sweetheart," he coos, his voice a dark promise. “I’ve barely got going.”
Your world flips upside down as he pulls out, a whimper escaping your lips at the sudden emptiness inside you. He pushes you onto your hands and knees, adjusting your position on the bed. The plush pillows that Mrs. Wilson had carefully arranged for your comfort are discarded with a dismissive grunt.
He mutters something under his breath, a crude commentary about the “natural order” of things. You feel a hard slap across your round, jiggly ass, his hand leaving a burning imprint on your skin. You startle at the sharp sting, a jolt of obscene pleasure coursing through you.
His fingers are rough as he gathers your twin pigtail braids, Mrs. Wilson’s careful work meant to make you look innocent now serving as his handhold. He uses your hair as a leash, tugging you back onto his enormous cock. The feeling is mind-numbing, a thick, heavy fullness that makes you feel used, taken, as he sheathes his fat cock back inside you.
His grip on your hair is a cruel reminder. You’re here, pinned under him, his cock rammed deep inside you. There’s no escaping this, no going back. This is your reality now.
With a cry, you bury your face in the plush sheets, the coarse fabric scraping against your tear-streaked cheeks. His thrusts are brutal, each one driving you harder into the mattress, his heavy body following you down. His cock fills you, stretches you, rules you. You can feel every pulse, every throb, as he bottoms out inside you.
You can feel his balls swinging against your ass with every vicious stroke, a humiliating rhythmic reminder of what’s happening. Your belly distends slightly with every thrust, the feeling of being filled to the hilt by him is far too real, far too dominant.
Every stroke of his length inside you stirs up a torrent of sensation. You’re floating on a wave of intense pleasure-pain, the boundaries blurring till you can’t tell one from another. The sloppy sounds of his cock ramming into your wet cunt fill the room, joined by your incoherent babbling as you feel your sanity slipping away.
Each thrust, each slap of his belly against your peachy ass vibrates through you. The wet plop as he pulls out, the sensual grind as he pushes back in, it all adds to the obscene symphony playing out.
Your body feels ruined, violated, stretched out, and owned by him. You can barely catch your breath. With each slam of his hips into yours, you gasp in time with his grunt. The fog of intoxicating pleasure and all its intensity is all that exists, each thrust threatening to drag you under.
Your hands claw at the sheets, fingers seeking purchase as your body shakes, twitching with each stroke of his punishing cock. The sight of his fat, hairy beer belly slapping against your delicate, pale ass is shockingly erotic. You look at yourself in the mirror, seeing a woman being bred, made into a tool, a vessel for this man’s desires.
The rhythm of his thrusts is relentless, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. His grip on your hair tugs you back, bounces you back onto his cock, the pain and pleasure of it all driving you insane.
Your mind is a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts, overlapping sensations, and burning needs masked as sinful pleasure. Your cries echo in the room, your voice broken and high, your words incoherent, lost in the haze of your breeding insanity.
His thrusts grow more erratic, his grunts growing louder. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, the rigid length of it pulsating with his impending release. His grip on your hair is brutal, tugging you back onto his cock with every thrust. His belly slaps hard against your ass, jiggling your flesh, the wet slap echoing through the room.
"Christ... Taylor," he grunts, his hand gripping tightly onto your hip. "You're gonna... fuck... take it all."
There's a moment of stillness, a brief second where the world seems to pause. And then he's ramming into you one last time, his cockhead spearing into your cervix, and he's coming.
The sensation is overwhelming, making your eyes roll back in your head. You can feel it, the heat and pressure of his climax, his cock spasming wildly inside you. His cum shoots out, a hot, sticky rush that paints your insides white. Each muscular contraction of his balls sends more of his seed spurting into you, filling you up, marking you as his. His grunts turn into growls of satisfaction, his grip on your hair releasing to hold tightly onto your hips.
The obscene sounds of his climax, the wet squelch of his cum filling you up shock you back to reality. The sensation of his fat ropes of cum splurting lazily into you, painting your insides with his seed, hits you like a wrecking ball. You can practically hear his balls emptying, the sweaty sack contracted tight against his body as it pushes out the last of his load.
"Take it," he gasps, his body shuddering with the aftershocks of his climax. "Take all of it, deep in that sweet little cunt.”
His words, crude and degrading, send a jolt of arousal through you. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, warm trails of it trickling down your legs, staining the pristine sheets underneath you. His cock is still buried inside you, twitching and pulsating gently, the occasional aftershock making him grunt and twitch.
Suddenly, without warning, your body erupts into an orgasm. It hits you like a freight train, the intense pleasure radiating out from your core in pulsating waves. Your body convulses, your mind turning blank as the release of pent-up tension fills you. It's not the simple relief of a climax, but the overwhelming result of ten days of unreleased sexual tension.
You can feel it, feel the way his cum triggers something primal in you.
Your brain-melting orgasm finally washes over you, the pleasure so intense it shakes the very foundation of your sanity. Your body buckles and shakes, the intensity of your orgasm driving you to the brink. Your mind shatters, your reality dissolving into a sea of overwhelming, soul-crushing pleasure.
You're whimpering, crying, babbling incoherently, your body convulsing under the weight of your intense climax. You can feel the sheer magnitude of it, the pulsating waves of pleasure that drown out everything else. You're not just climaxing, you're breaking, the pleasure proving too intense, too overwhelming.
It's more than just an orgasm. It's the realization of your position, of the degradation and humiliation that you've subjected yourself to. It's the realization that you don't just want to be filled with his cum, you want to be used, to be marked, to be owned by him.
The shame, the humiliation, it's all there, swarming your senses. Each pulse of pleasure is a reminder of your position, of how you've allowed yourself to be used. You're whimpering beneath him, your voice hoarse as you beg him to give it all to you.
You're lost, adrift in the sea of pleasure and degradation, the humiliation of it all driving your orgasm to new, dizzying heights. You're falling apart under him, your body shaking with the intensity of it all, a helpless puppet in the throes of a mind-shattering climax.
And through it all, his cock remains buried deep inside you, twitching and pulsating as it pumps you full of his cum. Your body is contracting around him, your orgasm milking him dry. Your pussy clenches and quivers around his cock, the pleasure heightened by the warm, sticky load filling you up.
You can feel the torrent of his cum, the heat of it seeping into your insides, marking you as his. You can feel him emptying himself into you, his cock still twitching and throbbing inside you. The sensation of his climax, the ropes and ropes of his cum filling you up, is overwhelming. It's more than just the physical release, it's the mental surrender, the complete and utter domination.
He pulls out, his cock making a lewd popping sound as it exits your well-used cunt. His spent rod is still twitching, beads of white cum dripping from the tip. A thick glop of his semen follows, splattering onto the sheets below, staining the pristine white fabric with a large splotch of pearly white.
The sight of his fat cock, slick and dripping, is a stark reminder of the reality you're living in. You've been bred, seeded, filled to the brim with his cum. The shocking reality of it all hits you hard. Your card has indeed been punched, your worth evaluated and used. Your body, this female body, has been utilized for reproduction, reduced to an incubator for the seed of a man you've known all your life.
Your pleasure-seeking antics with X-Change pills have turned into a life-altering reality. You, Taylor, are fertilized now, and this is your life. No more escapades as Tyler, no more morphing back into your male self. You are a woman, forever bound by the confines of this gentle, life-nurturing body.
You feel sullied, debased. It feels like you've been marked, not just by his cum, but by the reality of being used for breeding. As you lay there, your body still shaking, your mind is a whirlpool of emotions. What was once a wild adventure has turned into a life-altering commitment.
Mr. Wilson, panting and heaving, is leaning back on his elbows, the sweat trickling down his face, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. His glazed eyes are on you, taking in your thoroughly fucked figure sprawled on his bed. His satisfied grin seems to cut through you, his eyes twinkling with a depraved sense of accomplishment.
"Goddamn, Taylor... I never thought you'd be such a good fuck..." he rasps, his voice hoarse. "Your body… So tight and responsive. Nothing like Lucy’s."