A day out!

The morning sun poured through the windows, casting soft shadows across the bedroom floor. I woke in Rachel’s arms, feeling even smaller in her embrace. My hips felt rounder. My waist, tighter. My skin? Flawless. She stirred beside me and kissed the back of my neck.

“Good morning, pretty thing,” she whispered, her voice warm and possessive.

After breakfast, she pulled out clothes—tight, flattering, feminine. A cropped hoodie, tiny shorts, and sleek sneakers that made my legs look even longer. I hesitated.

“Are we going somewhere?” I asked.

She smiled. “Just a walk. Maybe a coffee. Maybe something new to wear.”

We stepped outside, the summer heat kissing my bare skin. I walked beside her, my head barely brushing her shoulder. Her hand gripped mine possessively, and I felt stares follow us.

Rachel was stunning—tall, strong, radiant in a simple tank and gym shorts. I, on the other hand, looked like her doll. Soft. Pretty. Claimed.

She kept glancing at me. Watching me.

“You okay?” she asked.

I nodded, cheeks burning. “Everyone’s looking.”

“Of course they are,” she said, pulling me closer. “They’ve never seen anything so perfect at my side.”

We grabbed coffee and browsed a small boutique. Rachel picked out a soft lavender tank top and a pair of clingy lounge shorts for me.

“In the dressing room,” she said. “Let me see how they fit.”

Inside, I changed slowly, staring at myself in the mirror. The tank hugged my chest just right. The shorts cupped my ass perfectly. I looked… like her. Like what she was turning me into.

She knocked once and entered without waiting. Her eyes darkened when she saw me.

“Turn around.”

I obeyed.

She ran her hand down my spine and gave my ass a firm squeeze.

“You’re mine,” she murmured.

Later, on the way home, she leaned close and whispered, “When we get back, I’m going to reward you. For being such a good little doll in public.”

I melted beside her, heart racing.

The walk may have ended…

…but the night was just beginning.

The door clicked shut behind us, and I barely had time to turn before Rachel’s hand was at the small of my back, guiding me toward the bedroom.

“Shoes off,” she murmured, voice thick with intent. “On the bed.”

I slipped out of my sneakers and climbed onto the mattress, still in the tiny lavender tank and lounge shorts she’d picked. My heart was racing.

Rachel watched me from the doorway, slowly pulling off her top. Her body was powerful—defined, sculpted, her every curve brimming with dominance. She stepped closer, slipping off her shorts, her cock already growing as she looked down at me.

“You looked so pretty today,” she said, crawling up the bed. “You stayed close. Let me show you off. You didn’t even complain.”

I blushed, but nodded. “I… I liked it.”

She kissed me, slow and deep, pressing me back into the pillows.

Her hands roamed my thighs, teasing beneath the shorts. When she slipped them down, she groaned softly.

“No underwear?”

I bit my lip. “I wanted to be ready.”

Rachel didn’t say another word. She spread my legs and lowered her mouth to me, tongue gliding over my sensitive hole with practiced, hungry strokes. I gasped, already trembling. I was so sensitive now—one flick of her tongue sent sparks through my core.

She took her time, licking, sucking, teasing until I was moaning uncontrollably. Then, slowly, she pulled away and climbed up behind me.

“Face down. Arch for me.”

I obeyed instantly.

Her hands gripped my hips, thumbs spreading me gently before she pressed in. My breath caught—she was so thick, so warm—and I took every inch like I was made for it.

Her rhythm was slow at first, almost reverent. But it didn’t stay that way.

She gripped my wrists and pulled them behind my back, holding me still as she thrust harder. Each movement sent waves of pleasure rolling through me, her hips slapping against mine. My cries filled the room.

“You’re perfect like this,” she growled. “So small. So mine.”

I came, screaming into the sheets, my whole body trembling.

But she didn’t stop.

Rachel flipped me over, lifted my legs onto her shoulders, and pushed back in. Her cock hit deeper now, and I was already oversensitive. I cried out, begged her to slow—but she didn’t.

She wanted me ruined.

By the time she came—deep and full and overwhelming—I was a whimpering mess, clutching her shoulders, barely able to speak.

She wrapped me in her arms and kissed my forehead.

“Such a good girl,” she whispered.

I clung to her, still panting.

And in the silence after, I realized I’d never wanted anything more than this.