Lie there mindlessly as Marco takes his turn with your pussy

Evan's Bedroom, Blackwood Family Home, Suburban Ohio, at 10:10 AM on Saturday June 15th, 2024 Day 1.

You're a ragdoll. A warm, breathing fucktoy with nothing behind those glassy eyes except the warm voice and the echo of pleasure. You lie on your back on the cum-soaked sheets, legs splayed open, three loads of thick cum oozing from your ruined pussy in a slow white river. Your tits—absurdly huge now, bigger than your head—rest heavy on your chest, rising and falling with each shallow breath.

Marco climbs between your thighs, his lean cock jutting forward, slick with your throat-slime. "Mi turno," he announces, grabbing your ankles and pushing your legs back until your knees are beside your ears, folding you in half. Your sloppy cunt gapes open for him—cum-filled, swollen, pink and glistening. He lines up and sinks in with one smooth thrust, groaning at the wet heat.

"Still tight enough," he mutters, starting a fast, shallow rhythm that makes your tits bounce with every impact. "Derek, get over here. I want her throat again while I fuck this pussy."

Derek steps forward, already hard again, and straddles your face. His cock slides past your plump lips and into your slack mouth, and you gag weakly—tears springing to your eyes, drool flooding out around his shaft. He fucks your face with lazy strokes while Marco pounds your pussy, and you just lie there taking it, your mind a blank white screen of static.

Then something shifts. You feel it—a tingling across your face, your skin, your whole body. The curse is working again, but differently this time. The beach blonde recedes, black flooding back through your hair, purple streaks blazing to life. Your skin pales further—porcelain white, almost luminescent. And your makeup... it reforms. Thick black eyeliner, sharp as razors. Smoky eyeshadow in deep purples and blacks. Your lips swell even fuller, painted a glossy black-purple that gleams like wet latex. Dark beauty marks dot your cheeks. The look is gothic, exaggerated, bimbofied—a pornographic version of a goth girl, makeup so perfect it looks airbrushed on.

Derek pulls out of your mouth and stares. "Holy shit—look at her face."

Marco slows his thrusts, leaning back to examine you. Your mascara isn't running despite the tears streaming down your cheeks. Your eyeliner hasn't smudged despite the gagging. Your black-purple lipstick is immaculate despite the thick strings of drool coating your chin.

"That's not normal," Jake says, stepping closer. He reaches down and wipes a handful of his own cum across your cheek—smeared thick and white over your perfect goth makeup. Then he rubs it in with his thumb. The cum disappears into your skin like moisturizer, and underneath, the makeup remains flawless. Not a single smear.

"What the fuck?" Tyrell says, watching from the sidelines.

Derek grins. "Let's test this." He grabs his cock and aims it at your face, stroking fast. "Open wide, Raven."

Marco keeps fucking your pussy—harder now, turned on by the spectacle—while Derek, Jake, and Tyrell all gather around your head. Three cocks pointed at your perfect goth face. Derek finishes first, thick ropes of cum splattering across your forehead, nose, and cheeks. Jake follows, painting your lips and chin white. Tyrell adds his load—massive, heavy spurts that coat your entire face in a thick glaze.

Your makeup doesn't budge. Not one bit. The cum sits on top of it like frosting on a cake, but underneath, the black eyeliner remains razor-sharp, the purple shadow unsmudged, the black-purple lipstick pristine.

"That's fucking wild," Marco laughs, slamming deep into your pussy. "She's like a permanent goth fuckdoll. The makeup won't come off no matter what we do to her."

He grabs your hips and flips you onto your stomach, mounting you from behind, his cock sliding back into your cum-filled cunt with a wet squelch. His hands grip your thickened ass, spreading your cheeks as he thrusts deep.

"Gonna cum inside this goth pussy," Marco groans, his pace turning frantic. "Gonna fill you up, puta. Here it comes—"

He buries himself to the hilt and you feel his cock pulse, hot cum spurting against your cervix, flooding your womb with the fourth load of the morning. Your body shudders—another orgasm rips through you, weak but real, your pussy milking him greedily while your mind dissolves further into warm nothing.