Tyrone

The door opened. Tyrone stepped in, already briefed. He took one look at Jasmine on her knees, heavy tits pushed forward, thick ass resting on her heels, plump lips parted, a shiny trail of wetness down her thigh, and gave a low chuckle.

Logan nodded once. “She’s ready. Memory’s locked. She thinks she came here for you.” He glanced at the cameras. All three red lights were already on. David adjusted the main angle from the tablet so it framed her perfectly from the front while the side camera caught her profile and the third stayed wide on the whole table.

Tyrone walked over and stopped right in front of her. Jasmine’s empty eyes lifted to his face, then dropped straight to the front of his pants. Her breath caught. The craving the triggers had planted flared hard and immediate. Her thighs pressed together. Another slow trickle of wetness slid down her leg and onto the floor.

“You know why you’re here?” Tyrone asked.

Jasmine nodded quickly, voice soft and thin.

“…Came for your big black cock. That’s all I remember. Want it. Please.”

He reached down and rested a heavy hand on her blonde head, fingers sliding into her hair.

“Good girl.”

The trigger hit like a switch. She whimpered and pushed her face forward at once, nuzzling against the thick shape already hardening behind his clothes. Her hands stayed obediently on her own thighs. She rubbed her cheek along the length of him through the fabric, breathing in, making soft needy sounds. When Tyrone finally unzipped and pulled himself out, her eyes went wide and glassy. The size of him made her lips part on a shaky breath.

“Go on,” he said.

Jasmine leaned in and took the head into her mouth without hesitation. Her newly plump lips stretched tight around him. She sank lower, taking more, tongue working clumsily but eagerly along the underside. She didn’t try to be skilled or pretty about it. She just sucked like a mindless, cock-hungry whore, wet and messy from the first second. Spit ran down her chin and dripped onto her heavy tits. Every time she bobbed forward her breasts swayed and bounced hard for the cameras. The main angle caught the stretch of her lips and the vacant look in her eyes. The side camera caught the drool and the way her throat bulged when she pushed herself deeper than she should have.

Tyrone let her work. One hand stayed on the back of her head, not forcing, just resting there while she worshiped him. She gagged once, pulled back with a wet gasp, strings of spit connecting her mouth to his cock, then immediately went back for more like she couldn’t stand being empty. Her free hand finally lifted and wrapped around the base, stroking what she couldn’t fit, while the other squeezed one of her own tits for the camera without being told.

“That’s it,” Tyrone muttered. “Take it.”

She moaned around him, the vibration making him thicker. She kept going until her jaw ached and her eyes watered, never pulling off for long. When he finally eased her back by the hair, a thick rope of spit stretched between her glossy lips and the head of his cock. She looked up at him, completely empty, chest heaving, mascara starting to smudge.

“More,” she whispered. “Please… need it inside.”

He lifted her by the arms like she weighed nothing and turned her around. He bent her over the padded table. The tiny pink skirt was already rucked up around her waist, her fattened ass fully exposed and still slightly marked from earlier. He didn’t bother taking anything off. He simply lined the thick head up against her soaked entrance and pushed in with one slow, heavy stroke while all three cameras recorded the moment she was filled.

Jasmine’s mouth fell open. A broken, high moan tore out of her. Her fingers scrabbled at the edges of the table as the stretch forced her open. Her new body took him, but the fullness still punched the air from her lungs. She could feel every inch spreading her, dragging against sensitive walls that had never been shaped for something this big.

“Fuck… so big…” she gasped, voice soft and stupid. “Thank you… thank you… use me…”

Tyrone started thrusting. Steady. Deep. Every impact made her thick ass ripple and her heavy tits swing hard beneath her. The wet sound of him driving into her soaked cunt filled the room. The side camera caught every bounce and every time her lips parted on another broken moan. Jasmine came within the first minute, a sharp helpless cry, her cunt clenching and fluttering around him. The orgasm only made her emptier. She went limp across the table, still pushing her hips back to meet every stroke, the only thoughts left in her head the ones the programming allowed: cock, full, good, more.

Logan watched the live feed, arms folded.

“Dumb bimbo,” he said calmly.

The trigger stacked. Jasmine’s eyes rolled back. Another orgasm slammed through her while Tyrone kept fucking her through it. This time she could only make small broken whimpers, drooling onto the table, completely lost. Her legs trembled. Her fingers flexed and opened uselessly. She was past words.

Tyrone hooked an arm under her and pulled her upright so her back was against his chest, still buried deep inside her. One of his hands wrapped around her throat, the other grabbed a heavy breast and squeezed. He kept thrusting up into her while the cameras framed her from the front: the vacant expression, the bouncing tits, the way her stomach bulged slightly with every upward stroke.

“Look at the camera,” he told her.

She did. Instantly. Empty eyes stared into the lens while she got fucked, mouth open, soft broken sounds falling out of her every time he bottomed out.

He turned her again, lifted one of her legs high, and drove back into her from the side so the main camera got a clear view of his cock stretching her open. Jasmine came a third time, harder, a long shaking cry that turned into silent open-mouthed panting. Her cunt kept spasming around him long after the peak, like her body had forgotten how to stop.

Tyrone finally pulled out, leaving her hole open and dripping. The moment the thick head slipped free, a heavy rush of cum followed. It poured out of her in a thick, creamy stream, running down the swollen lips of her cunt and over her taint before dripping in long sticky strands onto the table and the floor. More kept leaking with every weak pulse of her fucked-out hole, the excess spilling out of her in messy pulses until a small puddle had formed between her spread thighs. Her pussy stayed gaped, the pink inside visible, still twitching and pushing out another slow ooze of white.

He turned her to face him and pushed her back onto the table so she was sitting on the edge. Cum continued to leak from her, running down the side of the table in a thin trail. He stepped between her spread thighs, lined up, and sank back in with one smooth thrust, forcing some of the mess back inside her. Her arms wrapped weakly around his shoulders as the wet sound of him fucking his own cum deeper into her filled the room.

He fucked her like that until her legs were shaking too hard to stay up. Then he laid her flat on her back, hooked her knees over his elbows, and folded her open. The position left her completely exposed for the cameras. Every deep stroke made her heavy tits bounce toward her chin. Jasmine stared up at the lights, eyes glassy, mouth slack, taking everything he gave her without a single thought left that wasn’t about the cock filling her.

When Tyrone finally started to get close he pulled out, stroked himself, and painted her tits and neck in thick ropes. Some landed on her chin and lips. She didn’t flinch. She just lay there breathing hard, looking down at the mess on her new body with empty, satisfied eyes.

Logan’s voice came from the side, calm and quiet.

“Good girl.”

The trigger made her slide off the table and drop to her knees again without being told. She looked up at Tyrone, still dripping, still open, waiting to be told what to do with the cum on her skin or whether she was allowed to clean him.