Tims Virginity

Tim shifted his hips forward on the edge of the table. The massive cock angled toward Jasmine’s face, thick and heavy, already starting to stiffen further in his grip. She opened her mouth as wide as it would go, tongue out, eyes glassy and fixed on the head.

He pushed the blunt tip between her lips.

Her jaw stretched immediately. The head alone filled her mouth completely. She made a wet, muffled sound and tried to take more. Spit flooded out around the shaft and ran down her chin in thick strands, dripping onto her heavy tits. Tim kept one hand on the back of her head and guided her forward slowly.

The thickness forced her throat open. She gagged hard on the first few inches, eyes watering, but she didn’t pull away. Her hands came up and rested on his thighs, not pushing, just holding on. He pressed deeper. Her throat bulged visibly as the shaft slid in. A wet, choking sound tore out of her around the cock.

“Fuck…” Tim muttered, voice low and rough. He held her there for a moment, feeling her throat spasm around him, then pulled back just enough for her to gasp wetly before pushing in again.

Jasmine’s eyes rolled. Drool poured freely now. Every time he drove deeper she made another choked, desperate noise, but her body stayed obedient. Her heavy breasts bounced and swayed with the force of each thrust. The cameras caught the stretch of her lips, the bulge in her throat, and the way her vacant expression never changed.

Logan watched from the side. “She can take more.”

Tim’s grip tightened in her hair. He started using her throat properly, short deep strokes that made her gag and choke every time the head pushed past the back of her mouth. Spit and precum mixed and ran down the massive shaft. Jasmine’s hands stayed loose on his thighs. She didn’t resist. She just took it, throat working, eyes unfocused, soft broken sounds vibrating around him whenever he gave her a second to breathe.

He pulled out all the way. A thick rope of spit connected her open mouth to the head. She gasped, chest heaving, then immediately leaned forward again, mouth open, waiting.

“More,” she slurred, voice wrecked. “Choke me on it. Please. Need it deeper.”

Tim didn’t answer. He pushed back in, deeper this time, holding her nose against his body while her throat clenched and fluttered around the thick length. Her hands clenched weakly on his thighs. A full-body shiver ran through her as another orgasm hit from the lack of air and the stretch alone. When he finally let her up she was drooling heavily, eyes glassy, lips swollen and shiny, already opening again for the next thrust.

Tim kept his grip in Jasmine’s hair and started fucking her throat in longer strokes. The thick shaft slid deep enough that her nose pressed against his body on every forward push. Her throat stretched and convulsed around him. Wet, choked gags spilled out around the cock, mixed with the constant stream of spit that poured down her chin and onto her heavy tits.

Something shifted in him as he used her.

The quiet from the headset had never fully left. Now it pushed forward under the feeling of her throat struggling around him. His hand tightened in her hair. His hips drove harder. The soft, half-confused version of Tim that had woken up on the table started to sink under a colder, heavier need. He didn’t think about being careful. He just wanted to feel her choke.

He held her down longer this time. Her hands clawed weakly at his thighs. Her eyes rolled. A full-body shiver ran through her as another orgasm hit from the lack of air and the stretch. When he finally pulled her off, a thick rope of spit connected her open mouth to the head. She gasped, drool hanging from her swollen lips, then immediately leaned forward again, mouth wide.

“More,” she slurred, voice wrecked. “Choke me. Please. Need it.”

Tim didn’t answer with words. He shoved back in, both hands on her head now, and set a harder pace. The wet sounds of her throat taking the massive length filled the room. Her heavy breasts bounced and slapped together with every thrust. Spit and precum coated her chest and dripped onto the floor in steady strands. He watched her face the whole time: the vacant eyes, the way her throat bulged, the complete lack of resistance.

Logan stayed off to the side, arms folded, watching the live feed. “She’s still taking it. Don’t stop.”

Tim didn’t. He drove deeper, holding her face buried against him until her hands went limp and her whole body shook. When he finally pulled out she collapsed forward, coughing and gasping, strings of spit connecting her mouth to his cock. Her eyes were completely blank. She stayed on her knees, mouth open, tongue out, still trying to reach him.

He turned her around by the hair and bent her over the edge of the table. The tiny pink skirt was already up around her waist. Her thick ass was pushed up. Her used pussy was wet and open. Tim lined the massive head up against her cunt and pushed.

Jasmine’s mouth fell open in a broken moan as the thickness forced her open far more than anything before. He sank in slow and heavy. The sheer size of him stretched her until her fingers scrabbled at the table. He didn’t stop until he was as deep as her body could take. When he bottomed out, a clear, heavy bulge rose under the soft skin of her lower stomach. Every time he pulled back the bulge eased. Every time he drove forward it pushed out again, large and unmistakable, moving with the thick length inside her.

He started thrusting. Hard. Deep. Each stroke forced the bulge to swell and shift under her skin. Wet, loud queefs escaped around his cock with every withdrawal, the air and excess slick forced out of her stretched hole in messy, audible bursts. Jasmine came on the first full thrust, a sharp, helpless cry as her cunt clenched hard around him. She came again on the second. And the third. Her body shook with every impact, orgasm after orgasm rolling through her without pause while the massive cock kept stretching her, the visible bulge rose and fell, and another wet queef spilled out on every backstroke.

“Fuck… so big… so deep…” she slurred, voice soft and empty, eyes unfocused. “Can feel it… in my stomach… thank you… ruin me… more…”

Logan stepped closer while Tim kept fucking her. He rested one hand on the back of Jasmine’s head and spoke low, almost calm.

“Restoring memories now.”

Jasmine’s body jerked under the next thrust. Her eyes went wide for a second as everything from before the card flooded back: the party, finding Tim in the kitchen, going for drinks, Tyrone leading her downstairs, scanning the card. Then the memories stopped. There was nothing after the card. No basement. No lasers. No programming session. Just the sudden, overwhelming stretch of a massive cock buried deep inside her, the constant orgasms, and the loud wet queefs escaping her pussy with every thrust.

She still didn’t know it was Tim.

Her programming stayed locked in place. The empty need, the triggers, the craving to be used, the soft dumb urge to thank and beg. All of it remained. She just now remembered who she used to be, right up until the moment she scanned the card.

“Tim…?” she gasped, voice broken and confused between thrusts. “Where… where are you? What… fuck… so deep… I can’t… I can’t think…”

The guilt hit at the same time as the next orgasm. She remembered Tim’s face. She remembered she loved him. And she was currently getting fucked by a stranger with a cock so big it was bulging her stomach, her pussy queefing loudly around him with every stroke. The programming kept her body soft and desperate even as the old memories made her whimper.

“I’m sorry… Tim… I’m so sorry…” she moaned, voice thick and broken. “But his cock… it’s so big… I love it… I love big black cock… please… don’t stop… fuck me harder… I’m sorry…”

Tim didn’t answer. He pulled her head back by the hair so her back arched hard and kept driving into her. The bulge in her stomach stayed clear and constant, swelling larger every time he bottomed out. Wet queefs continued to spill out of her with every withdrawal, messy and loud. She kept cumming. Small, broken orgasms that never fully stopped, her body jerking under him, drool running from her open mouth onto the table while the restored memories mixed with the programming and left her mind spinning.

“Take it. All of it. That’s what you’re for,” Tim said, voice low and rough.

Jasmine moaned at the words and came again, harder, the bulge in her stomach pushing out sharply as he buried himself deep. She remembered Tim. She felt guilty. And she still couldn’t stop.

“More… please more… I’m sorry Tim… but it feels so good… I need this cock… I love big black cock… please don’t stop… it’s queefing so much…”

He didn’t ease up. Every thrust was deep and brutal, forcing the outline of his cock to show under her skin and another wet queef out of her stretched pussy while her empty, half-restored mind stayed focused on nothing but the stretch and the constant climaxes.

He pulled out suddenly. She whimpered at the loss, a final wet sound escaping her open hole. He turned her onto her back on the table, hooked her knees over his arms, and folded her open. The position left her completely exposed. He lined up again and drove back in with one heavy thrust. The bulge in her stomach rose immediately, large and clear. Jasmine’s mouth fell open in a high, broken cry as she came again on the spot. Her heavy tits bounced toward her chin with every impact. Wet queefs continued to burst out around his cock on every backstroke. He kept one hand on her throat, not squeezing hard enough to fully cut her air, just holding her in place while he fucked her.

“Look at me,” he said.

Her glassy eyes found his. There was recognition now, mixed with confusion, guilt, and the old empty need. She knew his face. She just didn’t understand why he looked different, or why he was the one inside her, or why her body wouldn’t stop cumming and begging and queefing around him.

“Good girl,” he muttered.

The old trigger still hit. Her cunt clenched hard around him and she came again, a long shaking orgasm that made the bulge in her stomach push out even more sharply. She moaned through it, voice soft and guilty and desperate.

“I’m sorry… Tim… I’m cheating… but his cock is so big… I can’t stop… please more… fuck me… I love it… my pussy won’t stop queefing…”

He didn’t stop. He kept driving into her, using the aftershocks, watching her face go even emptier with every thrust while the outline of his cock stayed visible under her skin and wet queefs kept escaping her on every withdrawal. The cameras caught everything: the stretch of her hole around the massive cock, the moving bulge, the way her heavy tits moved, the vacant-yet-guilty expression, the drool on her chin, the broken apologies mixed with begging, and the constant messy sounds from her pussy.

He flipped her again onto her stomach and pulled her hips up. One hand pressed between her shoulder blades, pinning her chest to the table. The other stayed fisted in her hair. He lined the thick head up against her ass this time and pushed. Jasmine’s breath caught. The stretch was intense and new all over again. He worked himself in slowly at first, then deeper, until he was buried in her ass. Then he started fucking her properly.

Every thrust made her thick ass ripple and forced soft, overwhelmed sounds out of her. Her used pussy kept leaking and queefing weakly onto the table beneath her, still twitching from the constant orgasms. She stayed limp under him, taking it, mouth open against the padding, eyes unfocused. Old memories of Tim flickered behind her eyes, but the programming kept her body obedient and her mouth soft.

“Tim… I remember you… I’m sorry… but his cock… it’s so big in my ass… please more… I love big black cock… forgive me…”

Tim’s grip tightened. He drove harder, using the full weight of his new body to keep her pinned while he took her ass in long, deep strokes.

Logan’s voice came from the side, calm.

“Dumb bimbo.”

The trigger landed on top of everything else. Jasmine’s eyes rolled. Another orgasm slammed through her while Tim kept fucking her ass. She could only make small, broken whimpers, drooling onto the table, completely lost. The restored memories stayed, the guilt stayed, but they couldn’t override the programming. Her body shook under him. He didn’t slow down. He just kept using her, one hand still fisted in her hair, the other gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks, the programming in his head quiet and steady: dominate, use, ruin, keep going.

He stayed like that, fucking her ass in deep, brutal strokes while she stayed empty and open and grateful beneath him, half-aware of who she used to be, guilty about cheating on Tim, and completely unable to stop moaning about how much she loved the big black cock currently ruining her, her pussy still occasionally queefing weakly from the earlier abuse, the cameras still rolling on every angle.