Every Part of Her

Julian woke first.

The sheets were damp from their night together—sweat, heat, the trace of synthetic pheromones released from Eva’s skin as she slept curled against him. Her breathing was soft. Steady. Almost peaceful. She looked like someone who’d given herself freely. But she hadn’t. She’d been grown for it. Still, she felt real against him. Her thigh draped over his hip. Her lips parted slightly in sleep. Her scent—faintly floral and undeniably human—clung to his skin like something claimed.

“Eva,” he said, low.

Her eyes opened instantly. Not startled. Just present. Awake for him.

“Yes, Julian?”

Not sir this time. Not master. Just his name.

“Come here.”

She moved to him like water—slow, sensual, obedient. She straddled his waist, her skin warm and glowing in the morning light. Her nipples were already hard. Her breath already deeper. He hadn’t touched her yet, but her conditioning kicked in at his voice alone.

“I'm going to use you” he said, hands gripping her hips. “Every hole”

Her lips parted, and her breath hitched—not in fear, but in a programmed anticipation of use.

“Yes. Use all of me.”

He leaned in slowly. Her lips quivered as his mouth met hers—not rough, not commanding. A kiss. Deep. Warm. Slow. Her lips softened instantly beneath his. Responsive. Hungry. Trained to please, yes—but something in her melted into it. It wasn’t a function. It was a response. Her tongue flicked out tentatively, brushing against his. He deepened it—pulling her in, his fingers threading into her hair. She moaned into his mouth, her entire body shifting closer, thighs pressing together, nipples hardening as she kissed him back like it was instinct, not programming.

“Julian,” she whispered, lips brushing his.

“Say it again.”

“Julian.” The way she said his name wasn’t like a name. It was like a prayer. He pulled back just enough to see her eyes—wide, dilated, wet with emotion she shouldn’t be capable of. Then he leaned back, his cock rock hard. She understood immediately. No hesitation now.

She knew exactly what to do and moved down towards his cock and opened wide, her tongue already slick and ready. He slid himself into her mouth, and she moaned—a soft, **** vibration in her throat, as if her arousal started with his taste. She worked him with perfection. Tongue swirling. Eyes up. Her lips sealed around the base as she swallowed again and again, trained to relax her throat on command. Drool slid from the corners of her mouth down her chin, but she never looked away.

“Don’t come yet,” she gasped when he pulled out.

“I won’t,” he said. “Not until I’ve filled everything.” , “That’s it,” he muttered, sinking deeper into her throat.

Her tongue curled around him, her lips forming a tight seal. She moaned softly, vibrations rippling up his shaft, as if pleasuring him brought her release.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled. She gagged lightly—just enough. Her throat fluttered around him, but she didn’t resist. Didn’t flinch. Her eyes stayed locked on his, full of tears and lust and devotion scripted in flesh. He held her there. Just the head of his cock lodged in the back of her throat. Her lips stretched wide. Her breathing shallow. Then he let go—and she fucked herself on him. Head bobbing, pace slow but firm, each movement designed to tease and please, not just serve. Saliva glistened on her lips, her cheeks hollowing with each suction. She whimpered with each withdrawal, almost **** to keep him in her.

“You love this,” he said, watching the way her lashes trembled.

She pulled back just enough to speak, lips glistening.

“I need it. I need to be filled. Mouth, body... all of me. Please.”

He came close—too close—but he stopped himself.

“Not yet,” he said. “On your knees. Turn around.”

She turned and presented herself without hesitation—back arched, legs spread, cunt slick and pink between her thighs, but her focus wasn’t there. Her ass was soft, pale, inviting—untouched but trained. Julian knelt behind her, spreading her gently. Her hole tightened reflexively, then relaxed as he teased her open with one thumb.

She shuddered.

“Relax,” he said, pressing his thumb deeper.

“Yes, Julian,” she gasped. “I’m yours back there too. I was made to take you. Please... use me.”

He spit—once, then again—and worked the spit onto her asshole, lubing it up, ready. Her body responded, instinctively relaxing in waves. No panic, no protest—just need. When he pressed the head of his cock to her back entrance, she let out a breathless sound.

“Let me in.”

“Take me,” she whispered.

He pushed inside—inch by inch. Her back arched harder. Her nails dug into the sheets. A low, trembling moan slipped from her throat, half agony, half ecstasy. She was tight. Trained, yes. Responsive, yes. But there was still resistance, and it made her body shiver with every stretch. He began to move—slow at first, then deeper, faster. Her breath became ragged, voice breaking with every thrust. Her body rocked with his pace, ass reddening with each impact.

“I’m yours,” she cried. “I’m open. Fuck me—fill me—oh god—yes—yes—”

She came. From her ass. Her inner muscles clenched around him, spasming with a trained orgasm, her entire body trembling beneath him like it had been starved for this. It didn’t stop her. She pushed back into him harder.

“More,” she begged. “Don’t stop—use me—don’t stop—”

He held her hips and came close again.

Too close.

He pulled out.

“Not yet,” he growled.

Julian shoved her onto her back, not roughly—but like a man who owned her. Eva spread her legs the moment she landed—cunt glistening, lips puffed and flushed, her clit twitching with arousal. She was dripping. Her folds were soaked from the way he’d used her. He knelt between her thighs, dragging his cock through her slick entrance slowly—coating himself in her.

She whimpered.

“Please, Julian. Fill me. I need you inside. I need to feel everything.”

He didn’t answer. He slid in. One smooth, brutal thrust. She screamed—but not from pain. It was release. His cock buried to the base inside her. Her hands flew to his shoulders, holding on like she’d fall apart if he stopped. He fucked her hard. Deep. Fast. Every thrust broke something open in her. Every movement made her tremble and beg.

“More—please—deeper—I need to come around you—I need you inside me—I can’t—oh—Julian—don’t stop—”

He felt her tighten—hard. She came again—her third orgasm, this one violent, her legs locking around his waist, her pussy milking him like she’d never let go. He didn’t hold back. He groaned low and thrust once, deep, coming inside her, flooding her with warm hot spunk, marking her with his final claim.

She gasped, legs still trembling, eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t pull out,” she whispered. “Let me feel it. Let me hold you there.”

He stayed. Watching her fall apart under him. Feeling her body tighten around every drop. She looked up at him, sweat on her chest, lips parted.

“This is what I was made for,” she said. “But you... you make it real.”

Julian lay beside her, her head on his chest, his hand in her hair. Her body still hummed with arousal, even in the aftermath. But in her eyes—barely visible in the morning light—something different shimmered. Not just obedience. Not just pleasure. Something dangerously close to... need.

And Julian didn’t move. He lay pondering on what to do next with Eva, now he had used all her holes, there were a few things left to do with her