Of course! They were technically virgins before their bisexual transformation, after all.

A/N: I just wanted to take a moment to say that it has come to my attention that, as of this chapter, this branch has officially become the longest one of all the Written Ownership branches, surpassing even the RWBY branch. So, thank you so very much for the continued support and encouragement that has helped me get this far and for now, let's celebrate with this steamy chapter xD

Clara Parker's POV

You inhale sharply, the sound a tiny, startled thing in the quiet room. His question hangs in the air, mingling with the scent of his hardened member and the faint, metallic tang of the world outside your sanctuary. Your mind, once so certain of its borders, now feels like a floodplain, overflowing with a desire so foreign and yet so utterly compelling it steals your breath. For if you weren't sure before that for him, and only for him, the walls between lesbian and bisexual desires have not so much crumbled as they have vaporized, then you definitely were now.

“I can barely believe I’m saying this,” you whisper, your voice husky, “but yes, Master. I would love to experience your cock.” The words somehow feel both sacrilegious and sacred on your tongue. You push on, needing him to understand the magnitude of this. “As a lifelong lesbian…I was always so sure. Before you. So, technically…I’m still a virgin. When it comes to the real thing that is. There have been dildos and vibrators, of course. And my lovely wife with her strap-on. But never…never a man. My pussy has never known a real cock.”

His green eyes, usually so pragmatic and patient, seemed to ignite with a delighted, possessive fire at your words while a slow, deeply pleased smile spread across his face.

“Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice a low thrum that vibrates straight through your core. “I’ll be delighted to be the first then.”

He turns his head, his gaze shifting to your wife, who is watching everything with rapt, hungry eyes, her fingers still tracing lazy patterns on her own thighs. “Jane? What about you?”

Jane doesn’t hesitate, her spiky hair catching the dim light as she nods. “Yes, Master. Same for me. Technically a virgin.” She explains, before a sly, wicked grin plays on her lips. “Although, I’d bet my cunt is a bit more flexible than Clara’s. I liked using toys on myself a lot more often than she did.”

The realization from that admission sends a fresh, shocking bolt of arousal through you. Here you are with your lesbian wife naked in bed, exposing the most intimate details of your former life to your handsome owner, and it only makes the need worse.

Michael looks between you, the thrill of the revelation plain on his face. “Perfect,” he says, the word with finality, the tone of voice of someone who had heard enough. His eyes then lock back onto yours. “Clara. On the bed in missionary position. I want you to look me in the eye when I claim your virginity.”

Your heart hammers against your ribs like a trapped bird. You move automatically, your body obeying before your mind can fully process the command. The blue sheets are cool and shockingly smooth against your bare skin as you lie back, shifting until you’re centered on the bed. You draw your knees up, letting them fall apart, exposing yourself to your one true Master completely, while Foreman moved away to give you more space.

The air in the room feels heavy, charged. Your whole body is blushing, a hot flush that spreads from your cheeks down your chest, and you feel the heat concentrated between your legs, a throbbing, aching longing. You look over and see your wife, her blue eyes dark with lust, watching you with nothing but approval and a fierce, shared hunger.

Michael climbs onto the bed, his movements fluid and deliberate. The dip of his weight makes you sink deeper into the mattress. The young man positions himself over you, his lean frame blocking the light from the lamp, momentarily casting his face in shadow. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, see the defined muscles of his chest and arms. Not exactly bulky as far as muscles went, but he certainly used to go to the gym with some regularity before this madness started. Regardless, he was nothing like the soft, familiar warmth of a woman.

He doesn’t rush, taking his time as he moves and stares at every inch of your exposed skin. He supported his weight on one arm before his other hand reached down to guide himself. The head of his cock, blunt and hot, then pressed against you.

It immediately felt different. So different from silicone or plastic. It’s alive, pulsing with a heartbeat of its own. You gasp, your eyes widening, instinctively seeking his.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice soft but unwavering.

You **** your gaze to stay locked with his. Green on brown. His eyes are deep pools of focused intent. You see your own reflection in them, small and **** and wanting.

And then he pushed forward.

There was a moment of intense, stretching pressure, a burning tightness that made you cry out; a short, sharp sound swallowed by the room. Your fingers clutch at the blue sheets, twisting them into your fists while your back arches involuntarily. You feel yourself being opened, filled in a way that is fundamentally, anatomically new. The feeling was overwhelming...a confusing, brutal mix of pain and the most profound pleasure you have ever known.

“Breathe, Clara,” Jane’s voice comes from the side, your wife's tone steady and encouraging as she holds your shoulder. “Just breathe through it.”

You drag a ragged breath into your lungs, your eyes still prisoner to Michael’s. You see the concentration there despite his obvious enjoyment, glimpsing the careful control he’s exerting not to simply exercise his right to take you with a fast, painful pace. You feel him pause, buried fully inside you now, and the initial sharp pain begins to recede, transforming into a deep, full ache of sheer desire.

He is inside you...a man is inside you. A part of you considered that the thought should be alien, wrong. But it didn't feel that way at all. The connection forged by his power over your mind, body, and marriage rewrites your reality, making this not just acceptable, but desperately wanted. And that was when you felt that you were truly starting to feel what it meant to belong to your Master. That this was what it felt like to WANT to be claimed.

A slow, experimental rock of his hips sends a jolt of pure lightning through your system. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp. The friction was incredible. The feeling of being stretched around him, so completely possessed, soon unlocks something primal deep within you.

A tear escapes the corner of your eye, tracing a hot path down your temple and into your hair. It isn’t a tear of sadness. It’s a tear of shattering, of an old sense of self breaking apart to make room for this new one.

Before long, you could swear that Michael noticed it. He smiled, a faint, possessive curl of his lips. “You okay? Ready for me to pick up the pace?”

A ****, guttural sound ripped from your throat. “God, yes, please,” you begged, your hips already starting to lift to meet his, your body operating on an instinct you never knew it possessed. “Don’t hold back. Fuck me, Master. Ruin my mind and ruin this pussy for any other man.” The words felt filthy and perfect, like a sacred vow of surrender. “Make it so only your cock ever feels right inside me.”

Michael inhaled sharply, his green eyes flashing with raw, unleashed hunger. “Happy to oblige,” he growled, and the control he’d been exercising shattered.

He drove into you, his hips pistoning with a sudden, brutal rhythm that stole the air from your lungs. The slow, stretching fullness was gone, replaced by a frantic, pounding friction that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire nervous system. You cried out, a sharp, continuous shriek that was part shock, part revelation, as he hammered into your deepest, most sensitive places.

You weren't sure if it had anything to do with the previous command he had given your mind to find him so attractive that he was essentially the lone exception to your lesbian nature but you did know that you had never, not once in your married life with Jane, not with any toy, experienced anything even remotely close to this blinding, animalistic intensity. Your world had suddenly narrowed to the slap of his skin against yours, the wet, slapping sounds of your joined bodies, the raw, guttural grunts he made with each thrust. Your back arched violently off the bed, your fingers scrambling for purchase on the sheets, your mind dissolving into a white-hot haze of pure, undiluted sensation. You felt as if you were being unmade and remade, all at once.

Then new sensations bloomed, cascading over the relentless pounding. Jane’s mouth, hot and demanding, closed over one nipple, her tongue flicking and sucking with a practiced ferocity that you knew so well. At the same time, Foreman’s softer, more tentative lips found your other breast, her tongue circling the areola before she took the stiff peak into her mouth. The dual **** on your nerves on top of everything else was catastrophic.

“Oh fuck! Master!” you screamed, your eyes rolling back into your head as the combined sensations overloaded every nerve-ending circuit with pleasure. The deep, internal pounding of his cock, the sharp, pulling pleasure on your nipples...it was too much, it was perfect, it was everything. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna—!”

In a sudden, gut-wrenching withdrawal, he pulled his thick, slick cock from your clutching cunt. The emptiness was a physical ache, a protest from your very core. You barely had time to process the loss before his hand was between your legs, his fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing hard, fast, **** circles. At the same time, his other hand gripped his shaft, and with a low, guttural groan, hot stripes of cum jetted across your stomach and breasts.

A logical, distant part of your mind understood the practicality; she wasn't on birth control after all. But the newly awakened, primal part of you, the part he had created, wailed at the denial, a deep, visceral craving to feel that heat flooding the depths of your womb, to be filled and claimed in the most fundamental way possible.

The thought vanished soon after, however, obliterated by the orgasm his fingers unleashed. It crashed over you, a convulsing, mind-wiping wave that made your entire body seize. Your scream was raw, endless, as you bucked against his hand, seeing flashes of light behind your eyelids. You panted, wrecked and trembling, floating in the aftermath.

Through hazy vision, you watched Jane and Foreman lower their heads. Their tongues, soft and seeking, lapped at the pearlescent cum cooling on your skin. They cleaned you with a quiet reverence that was profoundly erotic, their mouths meeting over your navel in a kiss that was slick and shared. A slow, languid grin spread across your face. There was no jealousy within, only a deep, satiated wonder at the complex, beautiful web of devotion he had woven after reforming the rules of your marriage.

You turned your head, your eyes finding Michael’s. His chest was still heaving, his gaze intense and satisfied. “Thank you,” you whispered, the words heartfelt and utterly true, coming from the very bottom of your reborn heart. “Thank you for ruining me.”

And with that declaration fresh on your smiling lips, you saw dark before passing out.

A/N: Well, that's all for now, but I hope the chapter was steamy enough for the record-breaking celebrations lol.

Again, thanks for all the support, everyone. Special thanks go to ayyar, nivekvonbeldo, Ryon Reyne, AltUAuthor, MaxGirth, Fantasywriter01 for all the continued support for a long time now and for the extra comments during my last few update binges. I really appreciate it.

As always, remember to leave a comment if you have anything to add or suggestions for things you would like to see happen in the future. And until next time, see ya!