The Grand Finale!

You stood trembling, utterly bare, utterly ****, utterly adored.

The crowd's cheers still echoed in your ears, but the world narrowed — narrowed to Talia, stepping lightly off the stage, disappearing just out of the audience's sight... but not out of yours.

You followed her with **** eyes.

In her hands — your clone.

She held it reverently, almost lovingly.

Elanor remained center stage, her voice rich and low, caressing the crowd and you alike.

"And now," she purred, "for our skeptic’s final lesson."

You stared at Talia. All the eyes in the room (and the two rooms on either side) were firmly on your body, on your cock. But yours, firmly fixed on the woman you desired most. Only your eyes able to see what was happening, a sight for your eyes only. Talia's hands slowly slid over the straps of her dress.

Slowly, with a teasing glance in your direction, she peeled the dark fabric down her body.

Your heart slammed against your ribs as she revealed herself — inch by devastating inch.

First the delicious swell of her breasts, full and flushed, the nipples already hard from arousal.

Then the elegant curve of her waist, the sleek lines of her hips.

Finally, the glistening pink between her thighs, visible as she shimmied out of the dress completely, baring herself to you.

She stood there — nude, breathtaking — letting you drink her in, her gaze never once leaving yours.

Your cock jerked helplessly, leaking more pre-cum at the sight of her.

Talia smiled warmly, fondly — then knelt, still within your view but hidden from the masses, cradling the clone between her hands.

Talia knelt, still within your view but hidden from the masses, cradling the clone between her hands.

Elanor's words flowed like silk:

"You’ve been so patient. So obedient. So beautiful.

Isn’t it time you were truly rewarded?"

Talia glanced up at you, her cheeks flushed, her eyes molten with heat and affection. She smiled — not mocking, not teasing — but warm, possessive.

Slowly, deliberately, she lifted the clone to her lips.

You gasped aloud as her warm, wet tongue flicked along the head — and you felt it.

You staggered in place, your cock jerking uncontrollably, leaking even more as the crowd whistled and laughed at your visible helplessness.

Elanor's voice cooed in your ear, though she stood several feet away:

"Feel that, skeptic?

That's devotion.

That's worship."

Talia trailed her tongue down the shaft, feather-light, sending electric jolts of sensation up your spine.

Then she pressed the clone between her breasts — squeezing it tight, slick, hot — and began bouncing. And — wicked thing that she was — she darted her tongue out to flick across the tip of the clone with every bounce, adding maddening bursts of wet, teasing heat to the steady, sensual pressure.

You moaned aloud, your hips bucking helplessly, your cock twitching wildly under the audience’s gaze.

The cheers grew deafening.

"God, he’s about to pop!"

"He’s dripping so much!"

"Please, don’t let him cum yet — it's too perfect!"

Talia wasn't done.

Still watching you — only you — she lowered the clone slowly, teasing it down her body.

Past her full, heaving breasts.

Down the slope of her toned stomach.

Until the tip pressed against the slick folds of her pussy, glistening under the soft stage lights.

She moaned softly — a real, shuddering sound that stabbed straight into your **** heart.

Then, with a slow, sensual roll of her hips, she slid it inside herself.

And you felt everything.

You cried out — a raw, broken sound — as your hips jerked violently forward.

It was perfect: the tight, wet heat, the **** friction, the helpless clench of muscles around you.

It felt real.

It was real.

Talia began to ride the clone — slow, deep strokes at first, grinding her hips down with a delicious moan.

Your body moved with her, as though tethered by invisible strings.

You felt your cock sink into her.

You felt her walls squeeze you.

You felt her body take you deeper, harder, wetter.

Your vision blurred.

Talia gasped your name — low, **** — and it broke you.

You couldn't stop it.

You wouldn't have if you could.

With a strangled groan, your whole body locked up — every muscle seizing in white-hot bliss.

And then —

You exploded.

Thick, hot ropes of cum burst from you, jetting outward with shocking ****.

The first spurt flew high, splattering your chest and chin.

The second, third, and fourth arched beautifully through the air, landing in long, glistening trails across the stage floor.

The crowd lost their minds.

Screaming. Whistling. Stomping their feet.

It was glorious.

It was devastating.

It was the most intense orgasm of your entire life.

You stood there, panting, trembling, cock twitching weakly with aftershocks, cum dripping down your body, legs barely holding you upright.

Talia gently removed the dildo from herself, still flushed, still breathing hard — and gazed up at you with an expression that made your chest ache.

Pride.

Desire.

Tenderness.

Affection.

Elanor approached, smiling wide and triumphant.

She placed her hand lightly on your shoulder — almost maternal — and declared:

"Behold, ladies — the world's first skeptic-turned-true-believer."

The crowd erupted into final, thunderous applause.