Shower with chance of anal

The bathroom was spotlessly clean, with fluffy white towels and expensive-looking products lining the shower caddy. It was exactly what George would have expected from someone like Tori—meticulous, tasteful, and completely at odds with his own squalid bathroom at home.

"The hygiene response test is a critical component of the infidelity inspection," George explained as Tori stood naked and **** in the center of the bathroom. "Unfaithful individuals typically show distinct patterns in their cleanliness thresholds."

Tori wrapped her arms around herself, shivering despite the warm temperature. "What does that even mean?"

"It means," George said, turning on the shower, "that your responses to being cleaned by someone other than your spouse will reveal your true infidelity potential. Step into the shower, please."

When Tori hesitated, George added sternly, "Resistance to the hygiene test is automatically scored as 'high-risk behavior' in the official report."

The constant threat of an incriminating report being shown to her husband was enough to make Tori comply. She stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over her naked body. George watched for a moment, enjoying the sight of water droplets running down her curves before stripping off his stained t-shirt and stepping out of his boxers.

Tori's eyes widened as she took in his naked form. George was grotesquely overweight, with rolls of pale fat cascading down his torso, sparse hair unevenly distributed across his chest and back, and deep folds where sweat and dirt had accumulated. His body odor, now unleashed without the barrier of clothing, was overwhelming.

"You're getting in here?" Tori asked, unable to hide her revulsion.

"The inspector must perform the cleansing personally," George stated matter-of-factly, stepping into the shower with her. The space was immediately cramped, forcing Tori to press against the cold tile wall to avoid contact with his sweaty bulk.

"This isn't necessary," she pleaded, but George ignored her, reaching for the body wash on the shelf.

"Assume the inspection position," he ordered. "Arms out, legs spread."

Reluctantly, Tori complied, extending her arms and separating her feet shoulder-width apart. George squirted a generous amount of her expensive body wash into his palm and began spreading it over her shoulders, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

"The cleansing test measures your comfort level with non-spouse touch," he explained, his hands moving down to massage the soap into her breasts. "Increased heart rate, nipple erection, and skin flushing are all indicators we monitor."

His fingers pinched and twisted her nipples under the guise of cleaning them, causing Tori to gasp despite herself. "See? Your nipples are responding to non-spouse touch. That's a concerning indicator."

"It's just because you're being rough," Tori protested weakly.

"Heightened sensitivity is itself a warning sign," George countered, his hands moving lower, spreading soap across her stomach and then down to her pubic area. "Now we'll test the genital response zone."

His fingers delved between her legs, roughly parting her labia and rubbing soap against her sensitive flesh. Tori jerked at the contact, a small sound escaping her throat.

"Vocalization during genital cleansing," George noted with mock professionalism. "Another red flag."

He continued his invasive "cleaning," his thick fingers pressing into her, spreading her open, rubbing her clit with deliberate pressure. Despite her disgust, Tori's body began responding to the stimulation, a fact that George immediately seized upon.

"You're getting wet again," he observed, his fingers sliding more easily through her folds. "The water from the shower is running clear everywhere else, but there's additional lubrication here. Your body is betraying your infidelity potential, Tori."

"No, it's not," she insisted, her voice shaking as his fingers continued their **** on her sensitive flesh. "It's just a physical reaction."

"Denial is common among high-risk subjects," George said dismissively. "Turn around. We need to examine the posterior response zones."

Tori turned to face the shower wall, placing her palms against the cool tile for support. George's hands spread more soap across her back, moving down to knead her buttocks with his greasy fingers.

"Gluteal muscle tension indicates sexual readiness," he informed her, spreading her cheeks apart. "I need to check your anal response threshold now."

Before Tori could protest, his soap-slicked finger was pressing against her puckered entrance. She tensed immediately, trying to clench against the intrusion.

"Resistance noted," George said, pushing more insistently. "But for accurate results, we need to measure internal response."

His thick finger **** its way inside her, causing Tori to cry out in discomfort. "Stop! That hurts!"

"Pain response is a key indicator," George insisted, working his finger deeper. "Those with high infidelity potential often have heightened sensitivity in taboo zones."

He began moving his finger in and out, his other hand reaching around to continue stimulating her clit. The dual sensations—one painful and invasive, one unwillingly pleasurable—left Tori confused and disoriented.

"Your body is adapting to anal penetration," George observed as her muscles began to relax involuntarily around his probing finger. "Adaptation speed is another crucial metric."

He added a second finger, stretching her uncomfortably, all while keeping up the pretense of scientific observation. "The inspection protocol requires measurement of multi-point stimulation response."

Tori was panting now, her body responding to the stimulation despite her mental disgust. George's fingers worked relentlessly, his thumb rubbing circles on her clit while two fingers pumped in and out of her ass and his other hand roughly squeezed her breast.

"Oh god," she moaned unwillingly as a wave of pleasure broke through her resistance.

"Vocalization of divine entities during inspection," George noted with satisfaction. "Classic indicator of repressed desires surfacing."

He increased the pace of his fingers, feeling her body begin to tremble. "Your sexual response to a non-spouse inspector is reaching critical levels," he told her. "This confirms our earlier findings of high infidelity potential."

"No," Tori gasped, even as her hips began to move against his hand. "I'm not unfaithful. I love Damien."

"Your mouth says one thing, but your body says another," George countered, pressing his naked bulk against her back, his erection prodding between her soapy buttocks. "The final element of the hygiene test requires measuring your anal penetration response."

Tori's eyes flew open in alarm. "No! You can't!"

"This is a comprehensive inspection, Tori," George reminded her sternly. "Refusal of any component invalidates the entire process and results in an automatic 'Failed' rating."

The thought of her husband receiving a report declaring her a potential cheater was too much for Tori to bear. She fell silent, trembling as George positioned himself behind her.

"Brace against the wall," he instructed, using the soap to lubricate his thick cock. "Resistance will be noted in the report."

Tori pressed her palms flat against the tile, her forehead resting against the wall as she prepared herself for the violation to come. George spread her cheeks with his hands and pressed the blunt head of his cock against her tight opening.

"Beginning anal response measurement," he announced, pushing forward with steady pressure.

Tori bit her lip to stifle a cry as the head of his cock breached her **** hole. The stretching sensation was intense, bordering on painful, but George continued his inexorable progress.

"Tight sphincter indicates infrequent engagement in this activity with your spouse," George observed, his voice strained with pleasure as her tight heat enveloped him inch by inch. "Is this not part of your marital relations?"

Tori shook her head, unable to speak as he pushed deeper, stretching her beyond what she thought possible.

"Failure to engage in comprehensive sexual activities with your spouse increases infidelity risk," George informed her, now fully seated inside her, his flabby stomach pressed against her back. "The body seeks what it is denied."

He began to move, withdrawing slightly before pushing back in, establishing a rhythm that sent waves of confusing sensation through Tori's body. The initial pain began to subside, replaced by a fullness that was not entirely unpleasant.

"Your anal muscles are relaxing," George noted, increasing his pace. "Adaptation to non-spouse penetration is occurring rapidly. Very concerning."

His hands moved around to grope her breasts again, pinching and twisting her nipples as he sodomized her with increasing ****. The shower continued to rain down on them, washing away the soap and providing lubrication for the obscene act.

"Oh god," Tori moaned again as George hit a spot inside her that sent unexpected pleasure coursing through her body.

"Prostate analog stimulation response positive," George grunted, angling his thrusts to hit that same spot repeatedly. "Your body is designed for this type of penetration, yet you claim not to engage in it with your spouse? This discrepancy is highly indicative of suppressed desires."

He was rambling pseudoscientific nonsense, but his powers made it sound authoritative to Tori's confused mind. As her body continued to respond to the stimulation, doubts crept in. Was there something wrong with her? Was she really the kind of person who could cheat on her husband?

"I'm not—AHH!—I wouldn't cheat," she gasped between thrusts.

"The inspection results suggest otherwise," George countered, his pace becoming more brutal as his own pleasure built. "Your body is accepting—UNGH—non-spouse penetration with increasing—FUCK—enthusiasm."

To illustrate his point, he moved one hand down to her clit again, rubbing it in tight circles. The dual stimulation was too much for Tori's overwrought system. Despite her best efforts to resist, she felt her orgasm building, a tidal wave of unwanted pleasure threatening to crash over her.

"No, I can't—" she protested weakly.

"Orgasmic response to non-spouse stimulus is the definitive test," George informed her, his fingers working faster as his cock continued to pound her ass. "If you climax during this inspection, it confirms high infidelity probability."

"Please, I don't want to," Tori begged, even as her body teetered on the edge.

"Your body has already decided," George grunted, feeling her muscles begin to clench around him. "The inspection reveals the truth!"

With a cry of mingled pleasure and shame, Tori's orgasm crashed over her, her body convulsing as waves of intense sensation radiated outward from her core. Her ass clenched rhythmically around George's invading cock, her pussy spasmed against his fingers, and her voice echoed off the bathroom tiles in a primal sound of release.

"Orgasm confirmed," George announced triumphantly, his own climax approaching rapidly as her tight channel milked his cock. "Final phase of hygiene test commencing—inspector deposit!"

With a guttural groan, he hilted himself fully in her ass and began to cum, flooding her bowels with pulse after pulse of his thick seed. Tori sobbed against the tile wall, overwhelmed by the physical pleasure that contrasted so sharply with her mental anguish.

When he finally withdrew, his softening cock slipping from her abused hole, Tori slumped against the wall, water from the shower mingling with her tears. George watched with satisfaction as traces of his cum leaked from her stretched opening, running down her trembling thighs.

"Phase Three results conclusive," he announced, stepping out of the shower and reaching for one of her pristine white towels to dry his sweaty bulk. "**** high risk of infidelity confirmed. We must proceed immediately to Phase Four."

Tori remained in the shower, hugging herself under the spray that had now turned cold. "There's more?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

"The final phase is the most critical," George confirmed, wrapping the towel around his waist. "It will determine whether remedial action can prevent your inevitable infidelity or if your marriage is beyond salvation."

Tori turned off the shower with shaking hands and stepped out, reaching for a towel to cover herself. George snatched it away before she could grab it.

"No covering during the inspection," he reminded her. "It interferes with observational accuracy."

Dripping wet and completely naked, Tori followed George out of the bathroom, her mind a whirlwind of confusion, shame, and fear. The worst part was the lingering sensations in her body—the ghost of pleasure that had been **** upon her, that she had ultimately succumbed to despite her disgust for this repulsive man.

"Where are we going now?" she asked as George led her back through the apartment.

"Phase Four must be conducted in the marital bed," George informed her solemnly. "It's the only way to accurately measure your potential for betraying the sanctity of your most intimate space."

Tori stopped abruptly. "No. Not there. Please."

George turned to her, his expression severe. "Refusal at this stage will result in immediate filing of a 'Critical Infidelity Risk' report. Is that what you want Damien to come home to?"

Trapped in the web of lies and manipulation that George's powers had woven around her, Tori had **** but to continue down the path of degradation. With heavy steps, she led him toward the bedroom she shared with her husband, each step feeling like a betrayal in itself.

Little did she know that Phase Four would test not just her body, but the very limits of her psychological endurance.