A Fistful of Sand 3: Resurrection
Chapter 3 – Take Two
“God DAMNIT Gregg! You’re being so fucking stubborn!”
“Well, ain’t that the pot calling the kettle black, Heather!”
Emily continued to slowly wrap Laura’s hand in the bandage. Very slowly. She was never more intent on a task. It wasn’t just about avoiding smearing the burn cream she’d applied to Laura’s hand, nor was it just about avoiding putting too much pressure on her sensitive skin. Nope. It was about having something to occupy her attention while Gregg and Heather traded loud verbal barbs.
Emily hadn’t heard “grown-ups” shouting like this since before her parents’ divorce and when her parents had fought like this, she’d occupied herself playing nurse with her dolls. Now history was repeating itself and she was playing nurse with Laura…but not in the fun way. Detecting some imagined flaw in her wrapping, she slowly undid the bandage again and started over. Laura, equally focused on the task at hand and equally avoiding looking at the two shouting ‘adults’ , was grateful for Em’s diligence. Even though Laura was decidedly single-minded when it came to supporting her “master”, she knew enough not to throw herself between him and Heather in an argument. So, instead, she focused on Emily’s treatment of her burned hand.
The ride home from the hospital after their non-visit with Christine was awkward, to say the least. It was only when they finally arrived back at Heather’s that Gregg fully explained what had happened. They all stared at him in awed disbelief when he told them that Christine had gone crazy at their appearance and had nearly killed them. If they hadn’t had prior experience with Gregg’s magic, they’d say it was all a sick joke. They had no recollection of what Gregg described, but the blood under Heather’s nails and Laura’s burned hand and the bite mark near her behind were evidence to the truth. And Christine was exactly who Gregg and Heather were fighting about.
Gregg had never shouted at anyone like this. He’d always avoided fighting, seeking to placate and find middle ground rather than going zero-sum. But then again, he’d never had so much to lose. Unlike most fights that people have, this wasn’t one of those multi-layer, ultra complex verbal exchanges where the substance of the fight is really only the tip of the iceberg. In one of those cosmic rarities, this fight was only about one thing and one thing only. And despite a half-hour of yelling, the substance of the debate hadn’t changed.
“We’ve already been over this. You’re not going back there with me!”
“You’re right, Gregg, we HAVE been over this and you know I’m right! Based on what you told me happened before time reset itself, just the sight of you sent Christine into a berserk frenzy! You should stay home and I should go there. Talk to her woman-to-woman. Let’s face it, you have a tendency of being weak around women.”
That barb was particularly biting, and Emily winced and began unwrapping the bandage yet again, deciding that another application of burn cream was needed. Laura flinched at the pain, but held the tube of cream ready for Emily’s gentle fingers. The two shared a quick, private glance, and in that second they both unconsciously agreed to maintain the charade until Gregg and Heather calmed down…not that they were giving any indication that ‘calm’ was the direction they were heading.
Gregg was at his limit. Heather’s last comment may have been true, but it hurt. It was tearing him up inside that this fight had lasted so long. More than anything he just wanted to grab his coat and storm out, let things cool off…but there was no way he was backing down on this.
Maybe it was time to try a different strategy. He reached out his arms, just wanting to hold Heather close. They hadn’t touched since before the incident and this fight officially marked the longest they’d been in the same room without at least SOME physical contact.
“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, knocking his arms away, too pissed to be cuddly or forgiving. She turned and started walking away from him toward the kitchen.
The last tenuous thread of calm snapped inside Gregg. Emily felt his rage first through their psychic link and gasped. Involuntarily she squeezed Laura’s hand and her patient hissed in pain.
Gregg didn’t hear any of this because in that split second, he marched up behind Heather, spun her around forcibly to face him, pinned her arms against her sides and shoved her hard against the wall.
“What the fuck-” she started to say, but Gregg then proceeded to lift her up in the air against the wall until they were eye to eye.
“Shut up and listen to me!” he hissed through clenched teeth.
She tried to scratch at his arms, but the way she was being held gave her no leverage. Her booted feet kicked into his shins, but if Gregg felt anything he gave no sign.
“STOP THAT AND PAY ATTENTION!” He shook her for emphasis.
Her green eyes flared, but she held still…grudgingly. All her arguments were at the tip of her tongue, but she held them for the moment, never before being on the receiving end of Gregg’s fury…the one time she’d seen him this way was when he’d saved her from Vinny. The parallels to that moment were unnerving and fear kept her still.
“You will NOT go into that hospital again until I say so. Laura’s coming with me-” Heather was about to raise an objection, but he shook her again and she held her tongue again. “Don’t interrupt! Laura’s coming with me – but only to pick up her car. I already watched you die once tonight, I WILL NOT LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!! I love you, and this discussion is over! I’ll tie you to a chair just like we did to Brittany if I have to! But you are NOT-COMING-WITH-ME-TO-THE-HOSPITAL!! Do we understand each other?”
He let Heather down gently. The adrenalin seeping out of his system. Gregg immediately felt guilty for man-handling her so, but it was late and he was physically and emotionally exhausted. He couldn’t and wouldn’t take back anything he’d just said if it kept her safe from harm.
Heather met his stare. She could see the hurt in his eyes, but she could also see the intensity. She glanced briefly over at the two girls on the couch. They were watching them with looks akin to horror and Emily had even given up her pretense at bandaging Laura’s hand.
“This discussion is NOT over!” she hissed. “My bedroom. Now!” The fact that she called it “her” bedroom and not “their” demonstrated her level of ire. Gregg looked over his shoulder at the girls and immediately felt even more guilty for his behavior. But this issue was too important. He kept his anger fueled and followed Heather into HER room, slamming the door behind him.
He was just about to read her the riot act again, when she forcibly shoved him against the door. She grabbed his head in her hands and pressed her lips tightly against his, shoving her tongue deep into his mouth. When he broke for air, he managed to say, “Wha-”
“Don’t talk!” Heather latched her lips back onto his. Gregg’s brain couldn’t wrap itself around what was happening. He wasn’t using his powers, so he was at a loss.
Heather gripped his shirt and ripped it open, the buttons scattering around the room. Even as his shirt hung open, she was already unclasping his belt and working on his fly. He couldn’t explain how, but the suddenness and intensity of her attack was quickly filling his tool with blood, eager to meet his attacker. By the time she’d forced his pants down around his ankles, his cock was standing fully at attention.
Gregg didn’t understand this, but instinct took over. His anger transformed into lust. He’s show her who was “weak” with women.
He grabbed her sweater from the bottom and lifted it over her head, throwing it onto the bed behind them leaving her wearing only her straining bra up top. Fumbling with the snaps on her jeans, he quickly peeled the tight denim down her legs, but couldn’t get it past her boots.
Heather didn’t care – she was too excited. She pulled him up, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. “Fuck me. Now!”
Gregg spun her around, pressing her face-first against the door. She arched her back so her ass jutted out. Because she couldn’t spread her legs due to her jeans and boots, it was going to be tight…but that was just fine with both of them.
Gregg couldn’t believe how wet she was, and quickly managed to insert the head of his cock between her lips. With an eager thrust, he speared her fully on his rampant cock, causing her to moan in surprise, pain, and pleasure. The door rattled as he began thrusting, pressing her forcefully and repeatedly against it. Her fingernails scratched at the wood as she moaned and hissed. He didn’t know if she was trying to claw her way free or if she was delirious with pleasure…and he didn’t care. This fuck didn’t change his decision. This fuck was about showing her just how “weak” he was.
His pent-up anger fueled his fucking, helping him drive ever harder into Heather’s cunt. Her face and tits were crushed up against the door, his hand curled tightly in her hair as he thrust violently in her. She tried to grab his hips with her free hand (the other pinned between her stomach and the door). Gregg grabbed it and folded it behind her, pinning her even more helplessly. And through her fight to free herself, Gregg didn’t miss a stroke. Full thrusts felt like they were about to drive her through the door! She’d lost control of the situation and could only ride it out like a storm…not that she was complaining.
“Yes Gregg! Fuck me! Oh God! Yesss!”
Heather could feel her excitement dripping out around Gregg’s thrusting cock, pinning her tightly against the door. With each thrust her nipples, so engorged they threatened to tear through her bra, scraped against the door, sending jolts of pleasure through her body. Gregg’s grip in her hair tightened, pulling back and stretching her neck. For a few seconds she saw the animal she had unleashed, the strain in his face, the clenched teeth, the passion. His grip changed and instead of pulling, he pushed, crushing her face back against the door as he quickened the pace of his fucking. She arched her back further, desperate for more!
Gregg could see if he was causing her discomfort…and he didn’t care. He’d fuck her into submission if he had to, but this was an argument she wasn’t going to win. He was so blinded with fuck-rage that he wasn’t even connecting to her on a psychic level. He gave no thought to her pleasure.
But, perhaps ironically, that very disconnect fueled her passion. She’d never seen Gregg in such a pure animalistic state. Her body softened, finally giving up her last resistance. She was limp in his grip, held up by his grips in her hair and the arm she had pinned behind her…and the friction of her face and tits being crushed against the door. Gregg’s cock was like a jackhammer, repeatedly driving her into the door which shook violently with every thrust, threatening to rip free of its hinges. She was so excited that she felt her juices escaping around his cock to drip down the crevice created by her tightly clenched thighs.
His pace quickened and she knew he was close. Giving herself over completely to the pleasure of his violent rage, all strength left her body and her orgasm overtook her. If she wasn’t so completely pinned to the door, she would have collapsed.
Gregg’s face was a mask of fury and intensity. Neither realizing nor caring that Heather had cum, he quickened his pace to his limit. He drove into her with such force that she was nearly being bodily lifted off the floor. His face reddened and his veins stood out prominently. With a primal howl, he thrust deeply, firing off jets of semen. Again and again he thrust, each time dumping more cream inside her. It was thick and copious, escaping around his cock to drip down Heather’s thighs and stain the insides of her jeans which were still locked around her ankles.
After a few final spasmodic jerks, the adrenalin wore off. Suddenly tired, he pulled back, his cock escaping Heather’s battered pussy with a slick pop. She immediately began to collapse, but was saved by an instinctive grab by Gregg. He held her up, even though he barely had the strength to stand himself. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done. The guilt was rising in him quickly. As soon as he could get her safely down on the bed, he’d run away in shame.
But Heather had other plans. She lifted her head – one cheek still red from where it was pressed against the door – and pulled his lips to hers. Though soft and weak, her kiss was filled with every ounce of love she could muster. “I knew you had it in you. I wasn’t really going to go back to the hospital…but I had to be sure you were ready to face her again.”
Gregg was confused, but Heather apparently was not. She was exhausted, sated, but never more sure of the man she loved. “Go. I’m sure she’s expecting you. Just remember, she’s been through hell and doesn’t realize just how much she needs your help. Be patient, but be firm.” Heather glanced tiredly down at Gregg’s cock which was already beginning to re-inflate. “That’s not what I mean, Gregg.”
Gregg smiled sheepishly and got dressed, finding a new shirt from the closet – “their” closet. Surprisingly, he felt good. He felt confident and ready to face Christine. Heather smiled knowingly from the bed, too exhausted (and satisfied) to move.
Exiting the bedroom, he grabbed his coat. Emily and Laura were both still sitting on the couch, stunned by what they’d heard through the closed door. Not knowing what to say, he just blushed and nodded to Laura. “Come on. Let’s go get your car.”
* * *
Christine stood naked in the small bathroom of her hospital room. The whole encounter with Gregg and Deuce seemed like a distant memory, even though it had abruptly ended less than an hour ago. Cindy had taken Brian down to the ER to sew up the gashes in his arm after her questioning gaze was met with seeming indifference by Christine. It’s not that Christine didn’t care, she did…or at least she thought she did. It’s just that right now she couldn’t deal with what had happened…what she’d done. Cindy had questions…not the least of which was why there was blood in her mouth.
Christine couldn’t explain to the innocent young nurse that just an hour ago Cindy had launched herself at one of Gregg’s friends, tackling her in an attempt to keep her from saving Gregg. Christine couldn’t explain to the sweet girl that fueled with rage boiling out from a moment’s insanity, she had been filled with such desperation to save her mistress that she’d sunk her teeth into Gregg’s friend’s back. Christine couldn’t explain that if not for the intervention of some higher power – some weird guy named Deuce – Cindy would have been an unwitting accomplice to a multiple murder. Most of all, Christine couldn’t explain why at that moment, she knew Gregg had to die.
At the moment it had happened, it all seemed so perfectly logical. Gregg had come to take over where David had left off. She’d have a new master, perhaps kinder than the last, but a master nonetheless. She was certain he was there to take over…why else would she have gotten so turned on? And in a flash of rage she never knew she possessed, she was ready to end all their lives, including anyone who happened into be in the blast radius.
But it was a mistake. A simple error of judgment. A conclusion jumped to overly hasty. Maybe not so simple. If she were truly free from David’s sadistic and lustful thoughts, why was she still obsessed with them, dreaming and awake. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but David still haunted her.
She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She wanted to feel anything other than the lust that continually seeped through her. Like a persistent ringing in her ears, she couldn’t tamp down the hot pulsing in her loins. It was a blessing with promises of never ending pleasure.
It was a curse.
Her hospital gown lay pooled in a thin cotton puddle around her feet. She had slipped it off long minutes ago – the fabric restricting her skin’s need to feel the air around her. ‘David liked me naked,’ she thought, her memories triggering revulsion and undeniable lust. ‘I used to hate being naked…but David changed that…he changed a lot of things…’ Vague memories of her innocence and youth slipped through her mind’s grasp. They interfered with her task of being David’s fuck puppet and either he or her own subconscious had tried to erase them – to make her new role more palatable.
She looked closely at the bags under her eyes. She knew she shouldn’t be concerned with physical appearance at a time like this, but she couldn’t help it. David liked her beautiful, thus she liked to be beautiful. As she thought about how the bags made her look older, more tired, she felt a tingling in her skin. The blood drained and the skin tightened. The haggard look dissolved and the years melted away. Her skin was as she imagined it should be.
In semi-disbelief of what she just experienced, she looked at her fingernails. The edges were cracked, ill-cared for. She focused in her mind how she wished they’d be and she gasped in surprise as she felt tingling under her nails, feeling them strengthen and harden, watching the ends dissolve until they were perfectly formed and rounded. She tapped them hard against the wall, satisfied with their strength.
‘This is interesting,’ she thought mildly, curious to see what else she could improve.
She toyed with little things: the fullness of her lips, the small birthmark on her arm. All soon expanded or dissolved to meet the perfection she desired. She tapped her now perfectly straight teeth with her perfect fingernail and amusedly wondered just how big David’s cock was BEFORE he got his powers…
Thinking of David’s cock caused a rush of excitement. Despite her former master’s cruelty, her David DID know how to fuck…or at least he’d used his powers to ensure that she thought so. Whether he really was that good or it was all implanted into her psyche didn’t matter. The throbbing between her legs was real. She halted her fingers’ descent, preferring to enjoy the self-torture gained from withholding from herself.
She cupped her full breasts in her hands. She couldn’t remember if her breasts were always this large or not. They were always larger than average, but it had been so long since David let her wear a bra. Guessing from how they overflowed her hands, she honestly didn’t think her old bras would fit anymore…not that she needed one. They were large, but firm. They stood out from her chest with the kind of pride and beauty a plastic surgeon for porn stars would envy. ‘David was a sadistic asshole, but he got these right.’
She stared into her eyes. Her big bright baby blues were now flecked with green. They had a definite allure, but she didn’t want the green. Green was the color of Heather’s eyes – and she wasn’t Heather. Concentrating on imagining her eyes pristine blue as they once had been, she focused. Her mirror image’s eyes shown blue for a moment, but quickly dissolved to their blue-green mix. She tried again, but was left with the same disappointing result. She couldn’t understand. David made her wear green contact lenses, probably never aware he could change her body – not realizing that he was making some physical changes anyway. Maybe a little of his desire manifested itself with her now hybrid eyes.
Frustrated, she looked at her hair. It was thick, and luxurious…but the wrong color, mostly. David had made her dye her blonde hair red, another effort to emulate Heather. It had grown out several inches on top (the speed of her hair growth was another thing that amazed the doctors), so she was left with red hair with blonde roots. She concentrated and she felt her scalp tingling. The dye seemed to vaporize off her hair and disappeared into the air. But the hair left behind was more of a strawberry blonde than then honey blonde she wanted.
She focused again. The color wavered, as if someone were adjusting the hue on their TV, but it stubbornly refused to let go of its ruby vestige.
Christine thought of Heather, the one her master so wanted her to be, the one her body apparently was still trying to emulate despite her wishes. Thoughts of the fiery redhead with the luminescent green eyes and perfect figure triggered another wave of lust, this one stronger than the previous. She was beginning to imagine the taste of Heather’s lips on her own, the feel of their breasts pressing together as they held each other. Gregg’s cock forcing its way up her ass…
Christine opened her eyes, not in surprise, but annoyance. Like a fantasy beginning to come true, Gregg stood behind her, watching as she fucked a finger in and out of her dripping pussy. His coat was held in his hands, strategically placed in front of him, no doubt hiding an immense boner – one she could practically taste.
With an exasperated sigh and petulant smirk, she pulled her finger from her cunt and turned to face her visitor. She was too turned on and feeling too mischievous to grab her gown, now forgotten at her feet. Today, the hatred David had instilled in her of this man would be played out in a battle of wills rather than in fire and mayhem.
Bringing her soaked finger to her lips, she made a show of licking off her own juices. Her eyes gleamed with sexual fire while her lips sucked sensuously around the digit. Her show was having the desired effect…on both of them.
‘Poor Gregg,’ she thought, watching him squirm. He was trying so hard to hide his excitement, but failing miserably. The sexual energy in the room positively crackled.
“So, how long have you been watching you naughty boy?” she asked seductively.
Gregg closed the door to the room and sat down on the chair at the foot of the bed. “Long enough to know that red seems to be your color…whether you want it to be or not.”
It was like a bucket of cold water being dumped on her libido. Gregg could feel it ebb, and he sat back, taking a deep breath like someone who’d just survived his first test of strength.
Christine frowned and walked back to her bed, content to give this first round to Gregg. She stayed naked, making a show of climbing in – her back arched to show him her firm ass, her pussy lips glistening with moisture. She knew all too well that she didn’t really have to try to excite him. He was a guy, and thus, by definition, subject to her feminine charms. She lay back languidly, one hand behind her head, the other gently playing with an erect nipple, pleasuring herself as if Gregg weren’t even there. “I’m new this superpower game. I’m also tired…I’ll try again tomorrow. I’ve been in a coma for a month, in case you forgot.”
“I could hardly forget. You saved my life.”
Christine thought back to that battle. When David called on her strength, she turned the tables on him. Draining him of his magic…and his life.
“That’s true. I guess that means you owe me,” she said, parting her legs. The sweet feminine aroma and the glistening pink interior beckoned Gregg closer.
“I do owe you. That’s why I’m here.”
Christine licked her lips, moving her hands down to her pussy to spread her labia. Her clit was engorged, throbbing. “Okay, I’ll take my payment in installments…one inch at a time.”
Gregg gulped audibly. This wasn’t going how he expected. He was prepared to face a crazy woman…not a sex maniac.
“Please stop this,” he asked, hoping to turn the conversation in a slightly more civilized direction.
“No. I’m horny. I need to be fucked. And if you’re not here to fuck me, then I don’t think there’s anything more to say.”
“We should be helping each other, Christine. I want to know more about this power and where it comes from, and I think you do too. It’s not like there’s a support group out there for people with mind-control powers.”
“Mmm, yeah, a support group could be fun. I bet a group of sexaholics could satisfy me with several wonderful loads of cum right about now…I think they meet a few floors down on Thursdays. Is today Thursday?” Christine was finger-fucking again, her naked ass writhing on the bed, staring openly at Gregg’s crotch.
She wanted to see his cock. She wanted know if his was bigger than her master’s…her FORMER master, she reminded herself angrily. She wanted to know if his cum tasted as sweet. She stretched out her consciousness, wanting to free his dick from the confines of his pants.
Gregg knocked her consciousness aside, much as one would slap another in the face. She jerked her eyes up to meet his, anger boiling.
“Don’t do that,” Gregg said behind clenched teeth. “I don’t want a repeat of last night. You respect my space and I’ll respect yours.”
Christine held his stare for long moments. Then, with an air of seeming disinterest, she resumed her previous pose, one hand behind her head, one hand on her breast, and her legs spread wide. She apparently wasn’t interested in subtlety.
“I’m tired, Gregg. And horny. So, if you’re not going to fuck me, then I think you should leave. Maybe you should send your redheaded tart next time. You and I could have a discussion on free-will versus pre-destiny while she licks my twat. We could take turns controlling her…see who she likes better as a master.” Gregg’s face turned red, and not in embarrassment. She’d crossed a line there. Christine glanced at the closed door. “Or maybe I could borrow your little cheerleader friend out there.”
Gregg turned his head and looked through the door. Sure enough, Laura had disobeyed his order to stay away and was waiting anxiously for him outside. His anger was tempered with affection. Standing up, not bothering to hide the tent in his pants nor correct her that Laura wasn’t a cheerleader, Gregg gathered up his coat.
This meeting was over. While hardly an auspicious first meeting – second meeting, he corrected himself – Gregg counted his successes, small though they might be. For starters, he was alive. Also, Christine did offer a next time. It was said through insult, and barbs, but Gregg chose to take it at face value.
There would be a next time.
“I’ll come by again tomorrow. We’ll continue our…er…talk.”
“I’d like that,” Christine said with smirk. But as Gregg turned and left, she realized that the actually meant it. “I’d like that a lot,” she said under her breath to Gregg’s retreating back.
* * *
‘No doubt he’s so horny that his little blonde fuck-bunny gonna get plowed. I wonder if he’ll even make it to his car…’ Christine thought amusedly shortly after Gregg had left. She was gauging her estimation by how horny the encounter had left her. If her psychic range was better, she probably could have seen that Laura’s car was exactly how far they made it. The SUV’s springs and struts were given a vigorous workout in the unheated garage as Gregg unleashed the pent-up excitement on his more-than-willing slave. The freezing January air was barely felt in the heat of their love-making.
A slight bit of remorse flitted around Christine’s consciousness. She wished she hadn’t been so harsh with Gregg. But once he entered the room, it was like she wasn’t in control of herself. He really did have the best of intentions, something she could see only after he left…but her hatred of him was so deep-seeded and so ingrained that she wasn’t sure she had the strength to overcome David’s programming. Hell, she couldn’t even get all the red out of her hair!
These were things that would have to get worked out later. She was too tired and too horny to give them any more thought. She’d been awake for several days now without having a hard cock in her cunt. She needed to get fucked. Now!
As if her desire were a summoning, Brian appeared in her doorway. At one time he had been a fun and affable guy, but the trauma he was forced to witness the last nine months had permanently damaged him. Now he was quiet and serious. The only thing he cared about was her, even if he no longer had the emotional capacity to express it. Part of Christine cared deeply for him, the only one of David’s crew that actually cared for her. But another part of her considered him weak, unable to save her, his psyche giving up and retreating due to seeing too much, while she was the one who actually had to endure it…and remember it…and love it, she thought disgustedly.
“Close the door.”
Brian obeyed without question, shutting the door. She crooked her finger and again Brian obeyed, stepping up to the bed where his naked mistress lay before him.
Christine sat up and began unbuckling Brian’s belt, unbuttoning his fly and tugging down his zipper. Wordlessly, Brian kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head. These were commands that didn’t need to be spoken. Hopping out of the bed, Christine squatted before her charge, engulfing his semi-hard cock in her mouth.
As if his body sensed her need, his cock began to pulse and swell. Christine savored the taste, like she had a sweet tooth and this was the first chocolate she’d had in months. His dick felt right between her lips, his scent right in her nostrils. Eagerly she sucked and slurped, sliding her lips fully to the root, taking him deep into her throat with practiced ease.
Her hunger unabated, she fucked her mouth up and down on Brian’s meat, her tongue swirling around the cock-tip when she pulled back. Lines of drool escaped her lips in her eagerness, falling in wet strands across her chest.
While Christine moaned and hummed in pleasure as she sucked Brian’s cock, Brian made no sound. His cock stood at attention, ready for whatever purpose his mistress required. Torn between wanting to taste his cum and needing to feel him inside her, Christine breathlessly pulled her face off his cock, stood and settled back on the bed, legs spread and ready.
Brian wordlessly crawled into the bed and Christine guided his saliva-slick dick inside her. He fucked into her, his body suspended above her on outstretched arms. It felt so good, so right to have him thrusting inside her. Her body responded immediately, quickly covering his thrusting cock in her juices, her legs wrapping around his buttocks.
“That’s it, Brian. Fuck me! Fuck me hard!”
The bed shook beneath them, his thrusts steady and full. It was a fantastic fuck, but Christine needed more. David’s cock was so much larger than Brian’s, not that Brian’s was small. But David had the power, and with the power he’d given himself a cock of tremendous proportions. It was one of those inhumanly large cocks that she needed now. A cock like Gregg probably had. She needed Brian to have one also.
Brian moaned out in pain, even as his thrusting remained steady. Christine could feel the walls of her cunt getting stretched slightly. Brian’s cock thrust a little deeper inside her.
Confusion and fuck-lust were clouding Christine’s mind. Had what she thought just happened really happened? Could her powers extend to others? She could feel her orgasm approaching, like a runner turning the final corner and seeing the finish line in the distance. She needed more.
“Yes! Deeper!” she cried.
Brian gave another moan of pain behind clenched teeth as Christine moaned deeper in pleasure. Brian’s cock was expanding as he continued to thrust and she loved it! Her nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on, harder, faster.
“More, Brian! I need more! Fuck me with MORE!”
The pain got so bad for Brian that his arms collapsed, crushing Christine beneath him. He bit the pillow to keep from crying out, even as his fucking speed increased, his thrusts relentlessly penetrating ever deeper. Christine was beyond caring. She was almost there. Her hand curled in his hair, holding him close even as she felt his wet tears on her cheek.
“Deeper, DEEPER BRIAN! I’m cumming! CUMMMING!!”
Brian’s body stiffened, his cock growing probably another inch inside her, the pain excruciating…the pleasure incredible. Christine bucked and twitched beneath him, her pleasure undeniable, feeling his cock continue to grow even as he unloaded his seed inside her.
“YES!! YES!! MORE! FILL ME UP WITH CUM!”
Long after he would normally have stopped cumming, Brian’s cock continued to spew out its load. The pain in his balls was so intense that he couldn’t make a sound.
Christine was in heaven. He was so big inside her, and her cunt was so full with the hot cum she needed. She felt so fulfilled. And yet, she could already feel the beginnings of her lust rising again.
Brian pulled out of her, his cock long and thick, coated with their mixed juices. He flopped onto his back beside her, his face tear-streaked, his body shaking and covered with sweat. Laying like a thick wet sausage on his thigh, his new cock pulsed in time with his racing heart. Christine scooted down the bed, examining what she’d created. In length and girth, she’d recreated her former master’s cock. It was big and it was beautiful. Even Brian’s nut sac seemed to have grown, his balls heavier, no doubt to accommodate her insatiable cum lust.
Tentatively she stuck out her tongue, tracing a line up his shaft. Immediately it began to swell again, filling with blood as it readied itself for its only purpose: to please his mistress. She sucked him into her mouth, enjoying the taste and how his now bigger cock felt between her lips and on her tongue.
The look of pain was gone from Brian’s face. He’d resumed his impassive expression. But there was still hurt behind his eyes.
“I’m sorry Brian. I didn’t know what I was doing. I…I just…needed this.” She held his cock lovingly in her hands, giving it a sweet kiss at the tip. “I’ll be more careful from now on…and I’ll make it up to you, somehow. This beautiful cock of yours is going to spend a lot of time in my pussy…and lots of other pussies as well.”
It wasn’t exactly a Hallmark greeting card as apologies go, but it was as heartfelt as Christine was capable of.
Now that his cock was once again fully hard, Christine again wrapped her lips around the tip, plunging her head down its increased size. It stretched her lips and it was now a struggle to take him into her throat…and she couldn’t be happier.