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The man's eyes widened as he flipped through the ancient, leather-bound pages, his heart racing with each spell he read. He paused on one title that made his cock twitch in his pants: "Frenzy of the Flesh - Inducing Irresistible Lust". Beneath it, a intricate illustration depicted a woman writhing in ecstasy, her legs wrapped around a man's waist as he pounded into her. The man's mouth went dry. His roommate, Tara, was a lesbian - but this spell could change everything.

Nervousness and excitement warred within him as he set up the candles and chalked the necessary runes on the floor. He took a deep breath and began to chant the arcane words, his voice rising in volume and intensity. The candles flared to life, and the runes glowed with an eerie blue light. Suddenly, the door to the bedroom burst open, and Tara stood there, her eyes wild and chest heaving.

"Tara? Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

But Tara didn't answer. Instead, she lunged forward, tackling him onto the bed. "I need you," she growled, her voice ragged with desire. "I need your cock inside me. Now."

Shocked but rapidly aroused, the man found himself pinned beneath Tara's toned, muscular body. She was already tearing at her clothes, buttons flying everywhere as she bared her pierced nipples and shaved, glistening sex. The man could only gape as she ripped his pants open, freeing his throbbing erection.

"Fuck, you're so big," Tara moaned, wrapping her hand around his shaft. She stroked him roughly, her calloused fingers squeezing and pumping his cock. The man groaned, his hips bucking up into her touch.

Tara didn't waste time. She swung a leg over his waist and sank down onto his cock with a guttural moan. The man cried out as her tight, scorching heat engulfed him, her walls clenching and fluttering around his shaft. Tara began to ride him hard and fast, slamming her hips down onto his, the bed creaking and shaking with the **** of their coupling.

"Harder," Tara demanded, leaning down to bite at the man's neck and chest. "Fuck me harder! Breed me!" She raked her nails down his chest, leaving red welts in their wake. The man could only comply, gripping her hips and slamming up into her with brutal, punishing thrusts. The room filled with the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, with Tara's screams of pleasure and the man's grunts of exertion.

They fucked like animals, all reason and restraint abandoned, until finally, with a roar of completion, the man erupted inside Tara, flooding her womb with his hot, thick seed. Tara threw her head back with a scream, her cunt clamping down around him, milking him for every last drop as she came hard on his pulsing cock. They collapsed together, chests heaving and bodies glistening with sweat, basking in the afterglow of their passionate coupling.

As the spell faded, Tara's eyes fluttered open, and the fog of lust slowly lifted. She looked down at the man's softening cock still nestled inside her, at the sticky evidence of their tryst coating her thighs.

Her mind reeled, trying to process the fact that she had not only slept with her roommate but had begged him to breed her. A lesbian, begging to be bred. The thought made her want to vomit. She stumbled out of bed, grabbing a robe and wrapping it tightly around her naked body, as if the thin cotton fabric could protect her from the shame and revulsion she felt.

Tara crept out of the bedroom, careful not to wake the man. She needed time to think, to process. In the kitchen, she put on a pot of coffee, hoping the bitter brew would scorch away the taste of betrayal in her mouth. As she waited for the coffee to brew, she caught sight of herself in the window's reflection - her hair was a wild mess, her eyes bloodshot, her skin pale. She looked like a ghost, a shell of her former self.

Tara tried to push away the memories of the previous night, but they clung to her like a second skin. The feel of his hands on her body, his cock inside her, his seed filling her... she shuddered, bile rising in her throat. "No," she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "Don't think about it. Just forget it happened."

But as the days passed, Tara found it increasingly difficult to ignore the changes happening to her body. Her breasts felt tender, and her nipples remained perpetually hard. She was constantly exhausted, napping at every opportunity, and her usual appetite had vanished. At first, she chalked it up to stress and lack of sleep, but a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered the truth she didn't want to hear.

His heart raced as he flipped through the weathered pages, drinking in the intricate diagrams and cryptic incantations. The further he delved, the more potent the spells seemed to become. But with power came sacrifice, and many of these later spells demanded a steep price.

Most of them required a pregnant woman, a vessel to channel and focus the immense magical energies. The man's mind flashed to Tara, her toned body and piercing nipples still fresh in his mind. He shook his head, trying to banish the thought. He couldn't use Tara again, not after how ashamed and disturbed she had been after the last spell.

*Days turned into weeks as the man researched, poring over ancient tomes and crumbling scrolls. He had to find a way to make Tara his, to bind her to him completely.

He needed a plan, and he thought he had one. A simple divination spell would tell him if Tara was with child, and then he could take the next steps. As his roommate slept, the man crept into her room, the ancient spellbook clutched tightly to his chest. He splayed his fingers, feeling the familiar tingle of magic building at his fingertips.

Softly, so as not to wake Tara, he whispered the arcane words, tracing glowing runes in the air. The magic swirled around him, and he saw the truth - Tara was pregnant, his seed having taken root deep within her fertile womb. A wicked grin spread across his face. This changed everything.

But he knew Tara would never willingly accept this, never embrace the child growing inside her. She would want to get rid of it, to erase the evidence of their carnal encounter. He couldn't allow that. So he devised a plan to convince her to keep the baby, to make it impossible for her to turn back.

The next night, as Tara slept, the man crept into her room once more. He carried with him a special paint, infused with potent fertility magic. With a delicate touch, he began to paint intricate sigils and symbols upon Tara's bare stomach, just above the life growing within.

As the tattoo took shape, the man could feel the magic thrumming beneath his fingertips, sinking into Tara's skin, bonding with her very essence. This rune would make her a focus, a living conduit for his power. It would also awaken a deep, primal urge within her - an overwhelming desire to nurture and cherish the new life inside her. And to crave the man who had given it to her.

By the time Tara awoke, she would be a changed woman - one who longed to bear his child, to swell with his seed time and time again. The man smiled to himself as he finished the final stroke, stepping back to admire his work. Yes, this would do nicely. Very nicely indeed.

The morning sun spilled through the blinds, painting golden stripes across Tara’s bare shoulders as she stirred awake. Her fingers instinctively traced the strange, glowing sigil now etched into her skin—when had she gotten this?—before her mind caught up with the rest of her body. The warmth between her thighs. The way her nipples ached, hard and sensitive against the sheets. The need coiling low in her belly, a hunger that wasn’t just for food.

She sat up abruptly, her breath hitching as she pressed a hand to her stomach. Something was different. Not just the tattoo—though that pulsed faintly under her touch, like a second heartbeat—but the way her body ached for him. The man. Her roommate. The one she’d sworn she’d never touch again.

Tara swallowed hard, her throat dry. She could still remember the shame, the disgust she’d felt after the spell had worn off. But now? Now, the memory of his hands on her, his cock stretching her open, his voice growling in her ear—it didn’t make her sick. It made her wet.

She found him in the kitchen, sipping coffee like nothing had changed. Like he hadn’t ruined her. Like he hadn’t claimed her.

Tara didn’t hesitate. She crossed the room in three strides, her fingers tangling in his shirt as she yanked him against her. His coffee mug clattered to the counter, forgotten. “I don’t know what the hell you did to me,” she growled, her voice rough with something between anger and desperation, “but I need you. Right now.”

His eyes darkened with triumph as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. “You sure about that, Tara?” he murmured, already backing her toward the couch. “Because once I start, I’m not stopping.”

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she shoved him down onto the cushions and straddled his lap, her hands tearing at his belt. “Shut up and fuck me,” she snarled, her voice raw with need.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

*Later, as Tara lay boneless and sated in his arms, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest, the man’s mind raced with possibilities. The spell had worked—better than he’d hoped. She was his now, body and soul, her pregnancy a living tether between them. But one wasn’t enough.

He thought of the other lesbians in their friend group. The way they’d always joked about never needing men. The way they’d laughed at the idea of being bred.

His lips curled into a slow, predatory smile.

If Tara could be turned, so could they.

And he had plenty of spells left to try.