Her wetness for other cocks

George followed Tori into her apartment, his beady eyes drinking in every detail of her home. Photos of her and Damien adorned the walls—snapshots of vacations, their wedding, family gatherings. The normality of it all made what he was doing feel even more perverse, and that excited him tremendously.

"The oral examination results were concerning," George explained as Tori closed the door behind them, her movements mechanical and hesitant. "Your gag reflex response showed potential infidelity markers."

"But I've never cheated on Damien," Tori protested weakly, her voice still raspy from the brutal throat-fucking she'd just endured. "I don't understand how this is supposed to prove anything."

George fixed her with a stern look. "That's exactly what someone with hidden infidelity tendencies would say. The body doesn't lie, Tori. These physical responses are scientific indicators."

It was complete bullshit, of course, but George's powers made the absurd sound plausible to her. He watched with satisfaction as doubt crept across her features. Was she really being tested? Could her body be betraying desires she wasn't consciously aware of?

"Now," George continued, settling his bulk onto her couch without invitation, "the next phase requires an examination of your physical response to non-husband stimulation. Remove your clothes."

Tori's eyes widened. "Here? In the living room?"

"Would you prefer to have the inspection in your marital bed?" George asked with faux concern. "That might contaminate the results with emotional variables associated with your husband."

"No! Not there," Tori quickly responded, looking horrified at the thought.

"Then here is fine. Proceed with disrobing for accurate assessment."

Tori hesitated, her hands trembling as they moved to the buttons of her blouse. "Will this... will this information be confidential?"

George nodded solemnly. "All Infidelity Inspections are conducted with the utmost discretion. However, if infidelity potential is detected above certain thresholds, your husband will need to be notified. It's standard protocol."

This imaginary "protocol" sent a fresh wave of panic through Tori. She began unbuttoning her blouse with shaking fingers, her face flushed with humiliation.

"Faster," George commanded. "Hesitation in disrobing indicates shame, which correlates with hidden desires."

Tori's fingers moved more quickly, fumbling with the buttons until her blouse hung open, revealing a simple white bra that contrasted beautifully with her tanned skin. George licked his lips as she shrugged the blouse off her shoulders.

"Continue," he instructed, his voice thickening with arousal.

She unzipped her skirt next, letting it pool around her ankles before stepping out of it. Standing before him in just her underwear, arms crossed protectively over her chest, Tori looked **** and exposed.

"Arms at your sides for proper visual assessment," George ordered, leaning forward, his eyes greedily taking in her curves. When she reluctantly complied, he nodded in approval. "Now remove the undergarments."

With visible ****, Tori reached behind her to unhook her bra. As it fell away, George couldn't suppress a groan of appreciation. Her breasts were perfect—not too large but full and perky, with small pink nipples that were already hardening in the cool air of the apartment.

"Panties too," he reminded her when she paused.

Biting her lip, Tori hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her simple white panties and slowly pushed them down her legs. She stood before him fully naked now, fighting the urge to cover herself as his gaze roved hungrily over her body.

"Turn slowly. Full rotation for comprehensive visual assessment."

Tori turned in a circle, allowing George to ogle her from every angle. Her ass was as impressive as he'd imagined—round and firm, with a tantalizing jiggle as she moved. When she completed the rotation, facing him again, he noticed her nipples had fully hardened.

"Interesting," he commented. "Your nipple erection indicates arousal at being viewed naked by a non-spouse. Noted for the report."

"It's just cold," Tori protested, her cheeks burning.

"The temperature in this room is 72 degrees," George lied authoritatively. "Nipple erection at this temperature is exclusively due to sexual arousal. This is science, Tori."

His bullshit explanation, delivered with complete confidence, planted seeds of doubt in her mind. Was she actually getting aroused by this disgusting man examining her? The very thought mortified her.

"Now, approach and straddle my lap for the tactile response test," George instructed, patting his thighs.

"Straddle you?" Tori repeated, aghast. "How is that part of the test?"

"The tactile response test measures your physical reactions to non-spouse touch patterns," George explained impatiently. "It's the most accurate way to determine infidelity potential. Would you prefer I mark you as 'refusing examination' in my report?"

The threat was effective. With obvious ****, Tori approached George and awkwardly positioned herself above his lap.

"Fully seated," George instructed. "Skin-to-skin contact is essential for accurate readings."

Grimacing, Tori lowered herself onto his lap, trying to minimize contact with his flabby thighs. George reached for the waistband of his boxers, pulling out his already hardening cock. "Sit directly on this," he commanded. "The sensor needs direct contact with your genital region."

"It's not a sensor, it's your... your..." Tori couldn't bring herself to say it.

"The Inspector's Rod is a specialized biological sensor," George informed her with mock professionalism. "It measures moisture, temperature, and muscular contractions in ways mechanical devices cannot. Now, comply with inspection protocols."

Tears of humiliation welling in her eyes, Tori positioned herself over his erection. George grabbed her hips and pulled her down abruptly, impaling her on his cock. She gasped at the sudden intrusion, her unprepared body tensing around him.

"FUCK!" she cried out, her hands landing on his shoulders to steady herself.

"Interesting response," George noted, his voice strained with pleasure as her tight warmth enveloped him. "Vocalizing profanity during penetration is a strong indicator of repressed sexual desires."

"It hurt," Tori whimpered, trying to adjust to the unwelcome fullness.

"Pain response noted," George said dismissively. "Now, for accurate readings, you must move up and down on the Inspector's Rod. Vary your speed and depth for comprehensive data collection."

"I can't," Tori whispered, tears now streaming down her face. "Please, this isn't right."

George's expression hardened. "Refusal to properly participate in the inspection will result in an automatic determination of 'High Infidelity Risk' in my report. Is that what you want Damien to see?"

The mention of her husband's name broke through her resistance. **** back a sob, Tori began to move, rising and falling on George's cock in a mechanical rhythm, her face turned away from him in shame.

"Eye contact is required," George insisted, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. "Visual cues are part of the assessment."

Their eyes met, and George savored the cocktail of emotions he saw in hers—disgust, shame, confusion, and most deliciously, a hint of unwanted arousal as his thick cock dragged against her sensitive walls. Her body was responding despite her mental revulsion, and she knew it.

"That's it," George encouraged, his hands moving to cup her bouncing breasts. "Your nipples are even harder now. The Inspector's Rod is detecting increased lubrication as well. Your body is revealing the truth, Tori."

"No," she insisted weakly, even as her pussy grew wetter around him. "It's just a physical reaction, it doesn't mean anything."

"All infidelity begins with physical responses," George countered, pinching her nipples roughly and making her gasp. "Your body craves stimulation that Damien isn't providing. That's what this inspection is revealing."

He began thrusting upward to meet her downward movements, driving his cock deeper into her **** body. Despite her disgust, Tori's breathing was becoming more labored, her movements less mechanical as her body betrayed her, responding to the stimulation.

"See how your body accepts the Inspector's Rod?" George grunted, his flabby stomach jiggling with each thrust. "Your infidelity potential is showing in your physical responses."

"No, I love my husband," Tori insisted, even as a small moan escaped her lips when George hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her.

"Then why are you getting wetter?" George challenged, increasing his pace. "Why are your nipples hard? Why did you just moan? Your body knows the truth even if you deny it."

His words burrowed into Tori's consciousness, making her question herself. Why was her body responding? Was there something wrong with her? The cognitive dissonance between her mental disgust and her body's involuntary responses was disorienting.

"I need to inspect the angle of maximum response," George announced, suddenly gripping her waist and standing up, his cock still buried inside her. With surprising strength born of lust, he turned and bent her over the arm of the couch, positioning himself behind her.

"This position will reveal your deepest infidelity tendencies," he declared, grabbing her hips and beginning to pound into her roughly from behind.

The new angle hit spots inside Tori that made her gasp despite herself. Her hands clutched at the couch cushions as George's thick cock stretched her, his heavy balls slapping against her with each thrust.

"Your vaginal contractions are increasing," George noted breathlessly, his pace becoming more frantic. "Classic signs of arousal with a non-spouse partner."

"I'm not—AHH!—enjoying this," Tori protested, her voice betraying her as pleasure began to mingle with the humiliation.

"Then why is your cunt gripping me so tightly?" George taunted, slapping her ass hard enough to leave a red handprint. "Why are you pushing back against me? The inspection doesn't lie, Tori."

To her horror, she realized she had indeed been unconsciously meeting his thrusts. She tried to stop, to hold herself rigid, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own.

"I need to inspect your oral submission levels again," George announced, suddenly withdrawing. "On your knees."

Dazed and confused by her body's contradictory responses, Tori complied, sliding off the couch arm to kneel on the floor. George positioned himself in front of her, his cock wet with her arousal, the musky scent of their combined fluids strong in the air.

"Open," he commanded, and she parted her lips automatically, accepting his cock into her mouth once more. The taste of herself on him added another layer of humiliation.

"Deeper," George instructed, pushing forward until she gagged. "Your throat resistance has decreased significantly since the initial examination. That's a concerning sign of adaptability to non-spouse penetration."

Tori couldn't argue with his cock stuffed down her throat. She could only endure as George used her mouth roughly, his hands tangled in her hair, controlling her movements.

"I'm approaching the final phase of this inspection segment," George announced, his breathing becoming ragged. "The deposit test is critical for accurate results."

He increased his pace, face-fucking her with abandon, watching her eyes water and her makeup run further. The sight of this beautiful woman—who would normally never give him a second glance—debased and **** on his cock was pushing him rapidly toward orgasm.

"The deposit must be—UNGH—properly analyzed by your system," George gasped, his climax approaching. "Swallow all of it for accurate results!"

With a guttural groan, he came for the second time, flooding Tori's mouth with pulse after pulse of thick semen. Having **** with his cock so deep in her throat, she swallowed convulsively, her eyes squeezed shut in revulsion.

When he finally released her and stepped back, Tori collapsed onto all fours, gasping and coughing, trails of cum and saliva dripping from her lips onto the carpet.

"Preliminary results from Phase Two are concerning," George announced, tucking himself away temporarily. "Your body's responses indicate high susceptibility to non-spouse stimulation. We must proceed to Phase Three immediately."

Tori looked up at him in disbelief, mascara streaked down her cheeks. "There's more?"

George nodded gravely. "The comprehensive inspection has four phases. We've only completed two. Phase Three must be conducted in your bathroom facilities."

"Why the bathroom?" Tori asked, her voice hoarse from the **** her throat had endured.

"Hygiene response testing is a critical component," George explained, helping her to her feet with feigned professionalism. "It reveals how your body reacts to non-standard cleansing procedures."

It was complete nonsense, but George's powers made it sound legitimate to Tori's manipulated mind. Confused and disoriented, she led him to the bathroom, her naked body trembling with each step.

As she opened the bathroom door, George was already planning Phase Three in his perverted mind. The inspection was far from over.