“Ella,” he said again. “This is important—”

“I know,” she nodded, sliding up on her desk. “I can smell it. It’s been hours for you, hasn’t it?”

“No, Ella. Something’s happened. You’ve changed, and—”

“I know,” she nodded, tugging him toward her.

Her hand pushed him up her flimsy skirt. He could both see and feel quite suddenly that his presumption about her lack of panties was correct. Her pussy was tight, wet, and beautiful. Perfectly waxed, shining, waiting for him. Somehow his cock had left his zipper at last. Had he unzipped himself or had she? Did he care?

Her skirt pushed up higher, almost like a string belt. Ready and willing and waiting. She slipped up on top of the desk and slid her legs around his waist. Precum dripped from his cock down onto the surface of the desk, mixing with the quickly forming puddle of her heated juices of arousal.

Right above her pussy was a curious tattoo. It looked a little like the letter H, but the edges were more diagonal and the line through the middle was a crooked slash. It seemed to glow as he approach, though surely that was just the light.

“I know I’ve changed,” she continued. “I used to be able to last for months without you,” she whimpered, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But it’s been days and I’m losing my mind. Please fuck me? I promise I’ll get you the best settlement possible.”

His cock hovered right above her entrance. God, he wanted her. But he was so confused.

“What do you mean, settlement? What is happening with Rhonda? And w-with you, and with Marisa, and Abigail, and—ohhhh fuck!”

She had edged herself forward toward his cock on the desk, sliding easily from the sudden and constant lubrication of her own juices. Her pussy lips kissed his cockhead just as she reached up and kissed his chin. Her entire demeanor was so wholly submissive and seductive. The tattoo over her pussy shimmered and sparkled. That was just her sweat sliding over the pattern, of course.

Desperately, he tried to keep his wits about him. His cock was inside her, but only just so. He could still pull out and call this whole thing a misunderstanding.

Ella tossed her hair to one side, licking her lips and settling her wide-eyed gaze on him with a deadly mixture of avarice and lust.

I’m trouble, but I can keep a secret.

That’s what she advertised.

“Wh-what about Rosie?” he asked. “Your wife?”

“She-she’s at home,” Ella whispered between kisses. “She won’t be able to make it before you fuck me stupid. Please don’t stop!”

The fact that Ella described her wife’s location in terms of inconvenience for him—he wouldn’t be able to fuck her before he fucked Ella, because he so obviously had to fuck Ella—instead of trying to persuade him that she would never find out really hit home for Stephen. Ella didn’t care if Rosie knew because in this crazy world he had entered, he apparently fucked Ella and Rosie at will.

Her heels, resting on his rear, patted him forward. Her legs were strong, toned, long. Suddenly he was inside her in earnest, gripping her hips, and plunging his manhood deep up inside her utterly tight entrance.

“Fuck!” she cried. “Oh my god! You’re bigg-bigger than ever!”

She was so fucking thin. Her slender body rivalled what he remembered of Marisa or Gale this morning. It was so simple to wrap his hands around her waist and take hold, and he immediately had control of her entire body weight.

He could—and did—twist her this way and that, and she contorted her body appropriately, twisting herself to let him see her entire slim length, positioning herself like a model on a magazine cover to best display her many angles and tilt her tits or ass or jawline at him in the most fetching way possible.

Constantly, constantly trying to make him harder and to have him lust after her lusciously transformed body even further.

The more he drilled into her body, the more he examined her—unable to stop himself. He roamed over her tight, soft skin with his hands, toying with her tits and especially her nipples. They were shiny and glossy like the rest of her, but wet also.

She was leaking milk, he realized after a moment. Leaking hot, fertile milk because he fucked her, because her body was so driven by the need to be his breeding instrument.

“Please,” she whimpered, as if reading his mind. “I need your babies. If you fuck a baby in me, I’ll get to be around your cock all the time, please…”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, and she cradled his head down to her tits. “You can taste it,” she urged him. “Taste how good I’ll be, Daddy…”

He couldn’t stop himself. A part of him tried—thoughts of Marisa, her transformation, loyalty to his wife in this one way despite all the numerous instances of infidelity he had engaged in already today.

But a stronger part of him—the cock-leading part—leapt full-bore into owning this bimbo blonde who so clearly wanted him to run her life.

He sucked on her nipples as she called him Daddy, the taste overwhelming the pleasure centers of his brain. It wasn’t normal milk, just like none of this was normal anymore—this was special somehow and it made his need to cum overwhelm whatever control he may have once had.

Standing up straight, growling, he pinned her down to the desk with his and almost violently choking her around the neck. Ella loved it, squeezing his arm tight, as if daring him to choke her harder.

Her eagerness, the milk, her silently mouthing the words Please, Daddy? over and over again sent him over the edge, and Stephen came inside of her tight, wet pussy.

As he did, his grip relinquished just enough for her voice to come back, and she came loudly—screaming his name.

“You’re the fucking best, Master!” she cried. “You’re so fucking good! So. Fucking. Good! Oh my god, oh my-my god, my god! Yes, Daddy, yes!”

“Ella…” he moaned. “Oh fuck, oh god, Ella…”

“Master! I love you! I love you forever! Forever!”

Just when he thought he couldn’t keep going, when his orgasm was totally done, that pronouncement urged even more from him—a final spraying of his heavy seed down in the beautifully tight canal she was swearing was just for him.

Finally, though, she settled down, kissing him loudly on the neck and shoulders, making a long show of raking her nails over his back and biting him possessively. It was all very theatrical.

The door, he noticed suddenly. The door to the front of the office—she had never closed it and he had been too turned on to notice. The men in front had been watching the whole time. Two of them were on their knees, dry-humping their hands as they watched.

“M-mistress?” one of the men called out. “Should we go?”

Ella sneered, calling out the door. “Shut the fuck up, worm.”

Her change in countenance was extraordinary. She had been so worshipful toward Stephen—so utterly impressed and seductive and needy. Raising her eyebrows just so.

As she turned towards those in the lobby, though, her expression became entirely contemptuous. Sneering wholeheartedly. Eyes narrowing down to murder-killer slits.

The men in the front, cowed, resumed their silence. They were crying, he realized.

Crying because he was fucking the girl they wanted.

He knew he should feel bad. But instead it only emboldened him further. He gripped her tits, her ass, hard as he could—squeezing for her attention.

Just as quickly as she darkened, she brightened again, looking back up at Stephen with need and reverence.

“I’m sorry about that, my love.”

“Mistress?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Not my idea. But one of them started doing it and I just kind of ran with it, you know? Weak little boys like a strong woman to tell them what to do. Not like you, though. You’re the strongest. Ungh.”

She took a hold of his cock, which had exited her cunt only to rest against her belly now, still streaming and hard. Stroking, holding him tight against her rock-solid abdomen, she looked up at Stephen with deep, unreserved lust.

“So strong,” she whimpered. “Won’t you show me again how strong you are?”

There were so many questions he still had—this business with Rhonda Sullivan, what had happened to Ella’s wife, what had happened to the women and men in this town, and probably most importantly, what was going on with his wife and daughter…

But Ella was soft and hard in all the right places, warm and willing as he was between her legs, and stroking and kissing him like there was no tomorrow.

Problem solving could wait. He slid inside her again and listened to her confess her undying love once more.

[TO BE CONTINUED]