protogen green

The next night is much the same, as is the night after. It’s become as much of her nightly habits as anything else, her body always waking her with a fire in her crotch that can only be satiated with a visit to her father’s bed. As usual, despite the visit of the nighttime succubus each night, her father is happier and livelier than usual. The stress of his job and chores drained along with his balls. Sarah knew she should still be feeling bad about this, but there didn’t seem to be a reason for it. Her dad was feeling great, better than ever, and she was feeling the same. Her newfound lust wasn’t hurting her schoolwork or volleyball practice anymore and she was feeling more confident when her friends brought up sex. She had thought on one time to show her friends one of her videos of swallowing a huge load of cum, just to brag, but decided against it. It wouldn’t be good for anyone to ask any questions on who she was getting it from.

“Just so we're perfectly clear, Brianna,” she purred wickedly, extending her long, sinuous tongue and seductively licking a glob of cum from where it had landed on my cheek. “I have video cameras all over this little playroom of mine. I'm going to let you go tonight, but you're going to come back to me, once a week. You should be thankful for that—that's hardly anything, compared to how often you and your friends made me take care of you! But I know you have a wife now, and coming here any more than that would risk her finding out, and ruining it all. So, you're going to come back once a week, and you're going to let me do anything I want to you, and you're going to do everything I say. Because if you don't, I will send the video to your wife, and your boss, and your co-workers... everyone you know, Brianna! And rest assured, it will be a slightly edited version, showing only how eager you were for everything I just did to you, none of the parts explaining how I coerced you into doing it!

“All I ever wanted was to change the world, to make it a better place where the weak wouldn’t be stepped on and enslaved, where freedom was a right instead of a privilege. I pushed myself, I struggled, I suffered, all for that goal, and survival is the best I could accomplish? If I have to focus only on survival, to be grateful just for staying alive, then how am I supposed to change anything? How am I any different from those who do nothing to fix this broken, corrupt reality?”