Beg Pan to fuck your pussy — tell her you need her cum inside you.

Pan's Underground Chamber, Pandora's Box Costume Shop, at 1:39 AM on Thursday October 31st, 2024

"Fuck me," I gasp, my hips bucking upward, chasing the heat of her cockhead where it rests against my entrance. My pussy is soaking — slick running down my thighs, pooling in the crease of my ass where Sable's tentacle still fills me, thick and unmoving. "Pan, please — put it inside me — I need your cum, I need you to fill me up, please breed me —"

Pan's lips curl into something wicked and slow. She doesn't push inside. Instead, she rolls her hips just enough that the fat head of her cock slides through my folds — parting my swollen lips, grinding against my clit — and I sob, my fingers clawing at the silk sheets.

"My cum inside you," she repeats, savoring each word. Her amber eyes are half-lidded, predatory, delighted. "You want that, kitten? You want this kitty's pussy stuffed full of cock milk?"

"Yes — yes —"

"Mmm." She leans down, her breasts pressing against mine through her loosened corset, her lips brushing my ear. Her cockhead notches against my entrance and holds there, the pressure maddening. "And whose cock milk should it be, Trevor? Mine? Sable's? Some random stranger I drag off the street because I feel like watching you get railed?"

She pushes forward — just the tip, just the barest fraction of an inch — and my pussy clamps down on it instantly, trying to suck her deeper. I whimper.

"Because here's the thing about permanent pets," Pan murmurs against my throat, her tongue tracing my pulse point. "Their pussies are never empty. Never. I'm going to make sure of that. Whether it's my cock pumping you full at bedtime, or Sable keeping you plugged while I'm busy, or Ink's little mouthed tentacles nursing on your clit while you sleep —" She thrusts another inch inside, stretching me wide around her girth, and I cry out. "— or maybe I'll invite friends over. Real ones. Big ones. Ones with cocks that make mine look modest."

She sinks deeper — five inches, six — and my vision whites out. The sensation is catastrophic. Her cock is thicker than Sable's tentacle, veiny and pulsing and radiating heat like a brand. My pussy grips her so tightly I can feel every ridge, every vein, every throb of her heartbeat through her shaft.

"This pussy belongs to me now," Pan growls, bottoming out with a single brutal thrust. Her hips slam against mine, her balls pressing flush against my ass, and I scream — cumming instantly, my walls spasming around her buried length, gushing slick around the base of her cock. "And I'm going to keep it dripping. Always. Full of my seed. Full of Sable's slime. Full of whatever I decide to pump into my pretty little breeding hole."

She pulls back — agonizingly slow, every inch dragging against my convulsing walls — and then slams forward again. The wet slap of flesh on flesh echoes through the chamber. Sable's tentacle in my ass thrusts in counterpoint, and Ink's mouthed appendages clamp down on my clit with renewed suction.

"Tell me," Pan commands, her pace building — deep, brutal strokes that rock my entire body, my breasts bouncing with each impact. "Tell me whose pussy this is."

"Yours," I moan, the word torn from somewhere primal. "It's yours — fuck me — fill me — please —"

"That's right." Her cock throbs inside me, swelling impossibly thicker. "And I'm going to make sure this kitty's cunt is always leaking. Always ready. Always begging for more." She grips my hips hard enough to bruise and pounds into me, each thrust bottoming out with a wet, obscene squelch. "By the time I'm done with you tonight, you won't remember what it felt like to be empty."