A small family of three

Disclaimer - AI created - refined by me

Jenny, 19, was a wallflower, her days lost in attic sketches, her face flaming at the smallest praise. Her brother Mark, 21, was a gangly recluse, happiest elbow-deep in bike grease, dodging human contact. They shared a modest Maple Street home with their mother, Ellen, their lives a quiet tapestry of routine and understated care.

One sticky evening, it began. Jenny, throat dry from sketching, gulped a glass of tainted water. A volcanic heat detonated in her core, scorching her veins. Her skin crawled, her pulse thundering like a stampede. She clutched the kitchen counter, her breath ragged as her body warped. Her frail frame surged, muscles rippling like liquid steel, her tits swelling into obscene, wobbling melons that tore her cotton shirt to rags. Her ass bloomed, thick and taut, her cunt slick and pulsing, dripping down her sculpted thighs. Tattoos erupted like a curse: “PUSSY QUEEN” in jagged red across her chest, mocking her former timidity; “SKETCH THIS PUSSY” scrawled on her lower belly, a middle finger to her artist’s purity; a snarling wolf with a dripping dick coiled around her thigh, its jaws aimed at her throbbing clit. Her lips thickened, her eyes burned with a predatory glow, her mousy hair now a wild cascade of crimson streaks.

Her mind collapsed. The bashful doodler was erased, her thoughts a fog of animal need. “Fuck, I need a cock in my cunt!” she snarled, her voice a husky growl, her innocence annihilated by the substance’s alchemy. She staggered to the window, her reflection a pornstar beast—jacked, curvy, and ravenous. Silver hoops pierced her nipples, a cross-shaped stud gleamed in her clit, a gaudy cock-charm swung from her navel.

Mark, in the garage, chugged a tainted water bottle after wrenching on his bike. The same inferno roared through him, his vision swimming. His scrawny arms ballooned, veins bulging as his pecs and abs hardened into a chiseled fortress. His cock exploded, a grotesque, veiny monster that shredded his jeans, his balls swollen with cum. Tattoos seared his skin, each a spit in the face of his old self: “FUCKBOY” sprawled across his shoulders, sneering at his loner days; “WRENCH MY DICK” inked in black on his forearm, twisting his mechanic’s pride; a chained heart pierced by a cock branded his thigh, a mockery of his quiet devotion. His mind sharpened to a single, savage point: to fuck, to conquer. “Shit, I need to ram some pussy!” he bellowed, his lanky shell now a towering Adonis, his brown hair spiked with electric green.

They met in the hallway, their feral eyes locking, the air crackling with taboo lust. Jenny’s cunt throbbed at Mark’s colossal cock, her brother now a deity of desire. Mark’s dick pulsed, his sister’s massive tits and dripping pussy igniting his hunger. “Jenny, you cock-craving slut,” he growled, his voice a primal rumble. “Mark, slam that dick in my cunt!” she purred, her clit stud glinting as she prowled closer.

The substance torched their shame, incinerating morality. They collided, claws tearing fabric, mouths crashing in a ****, feral kiss. Jenny’s nails gouged Mark’s back as he hoisted her, his monstrous cock plunging into her slick pussy. “Fuck, you tight-cunt whore!” he roared, jackhammering her against the wall, her tits quacking. Jenny screamed, her cunt gripping his dick, “Pound me, you pussy-worshipping prick! Ruin my hole!” Her pierced nipples scraped his shoulders, her orgasms relentless, driven by the substance’s demonic fuel.

They fucked through the house, splintering tables, shredding drapes. Mark flipped Jenny onto the dining table, his cock spearing her asshole, her melons bouncing wildly. “Take it, you filthy bitch!” he snarled, his balls smacking her sopping cunt. Jenny moaned, her tongue stud flicking, “Fuck my ass, you cock-obsessed bastard!” Her pussy gushed, soaking the floor, their muscled bodies slick with sweat and cum.

As dawn bled through the windows, they sprawled in the gutted living room, Jenny’s gargantuan tits heaving, her pierced clit pulsing. Mark’s obscene cock oozed cum, his tattoos glistening. Their minds were hollowed out, replaced by a ravenous urge to spread this ecstasy, to defile and devour. They exchanged a wicked smirk, their eyes glinting with a shared scheme.

“Mom,” Jenny hissed, her voice thick with hunger, glancing at the staircase. Mark’s cock twitched, his balls tightening. “Time to make her our fucktoy,” he growled.

Ellen, a prim widow in her forties, slept upstairs, oblivious to the wreckage below. She’d sipped the same water, the substance lurking in her blood. Jenny and Mark slunk toward her room, their jacked, tattooed bodies humming with predatory zeal. They didn’t see their mother—they saw their next conquest, the next to join their sex-zombie rampage.

As they nudged the door open, Ellen stirred, her eyes cracking open. The sight of her children—Jenny’s “PUSSY QUEEN” tits, Mark’s “FUCKBOY” cock—choked her breath. “What in heaven—?” she gasped, but a faint heat already bloomed in her cunt, the substance stirring. The frenzy of Willow Creek was primed to swallow her, and the town’s quiet days were doomed.