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Introduction:

Viewer Discretion Warning

This story contains graphic sexual content, explicit language, themes of power imbalance, non-consensual undertones, and manipulation. Reader discretion is advised. All characters depicted in sexual scenarios are consenting adults aged 18 or older. This story is intended for mature audiences only. If these themes are uncomfortable, consider exploring other content.
Chapter 4

Smith lay sprawled on the bed, his arm lazily draped across Lizzy’s bare torso. Morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. She stirred against him, her warm breath tickling his chest, her skin pressing tight like she wanted to melt into him.

Her fingers twitched against his side, needy even in her sleep. That was the point, wasn’t it? To make her crave him—physically, emotionally—until she had no sense of herself outside of him. Her breaths were shallow, still trembling on the edge of last night’s high. But Smith had already moved on. The sex, the whispered confessions of need, they were part of the process, but his mind was on the next step. What came after. The next phase in her conditioning.

Lizzy shifted, nuzzling deeper into his chest, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “I love you…” Her voice was barely a whisper, filled with that raw, unguarded emotion she probably thought was love. She believed it, every word. Her whole body buzzed with it—love, desire, dependency—all rewired to need him more than air.

He stared at the ceiling, amusement flickering in his eyes. Love. That’s what she thought this was. But he knew better. This wasn’t love—it was control. She was dependent, her entire existence revolving around him. She didn’t understand it yet, but everything she felt had been crafted, engineered.

Lizzy murmured again, her lips brushing against his skin. “I… I need you,” she whispered, her voice soft and vulnerable.

Smith smiled, but his eyes stayed cold. He slid his arm away and sat up, his bare chest catching the morning light.

“I know you do.” His voice was calm, almost bored. He stretched, muscles flexing as the bed creaked under him. He glanced at her, still lying there, wide-eyed, clinging to his every move like a satellite orbiting its sun, powerless to escape.

“We’re going to the beach house today,” he said, tossing the covers aside. “Get up.”

Lizzy blinked, slowly sitting up as if still under the spell of the night before. As she reached for her phone, she noticed several missed calls and messages from Leo. She winced. "Where are you, Lizzy? I’m worried!" His words pressed on her like a weight she didn’t want to carry. She swiped the notifications away without reading further, silencing the phone. Leo wouldn’t understand, not this new life. There was no way to explain what she was doing now.

“The beach house?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper..

Smith didn’t look at her, pulling on his clothes with precise, deliberate movements. “Palm Springs. A change of scenery. We’ll be there in a few hours.”

Her face lit up at the mention, mistaking this for some kind of romantic getaway. She didn’t realize it yet, but her entire life now was just an extension of his control.

She didn’t need him to say anything, didn’t even need to hear the words. Her body already knew—she loved him, and that was all that mattered.

Smith sat at his desk, his fingers tapping lightly on the cool surface of his office terminal. The room around him was minimal—no personal touches, just clean lines and muted tones. He stared at the email on the screen, the draft confirming his sabbatical from the lab. One tap on the screen, and it was sent. It didn’t matter anymore. Work, money, all of it was irrelevant. He had enough—his nanotech profits had seen to that. His focus now was on Lizzy.

He glanced back at the door, where she sat waiting, like a loyal pet. She perched on the edge of the couch, her hands nervously folded in her lap. That tight shirt she wore clung to her enhanced curves, every inch of her designed to please him. Her eyes were locked on him, her need for his approval practically radiating off her. He could feel it, the energy of her devotion buzzing between them. But for him, it wasn’t love—it was data, a result. She was an outcome, and he hadn’t expected her dependence to be so intoxicating. But it was, and there was more to explore.

Smith stood, slipping into a simple jacket without fanfare. “We’re leaving,” he said flatly, grabbing a sleek black duffel from the corner. He packed light—just the basics. Everything he needed was waiting at the beach house.

Lizzy sprang to her feet the second he spoke, her body immediately reacting to his command. “Okay!” she chirped, practically glowing, her smile bright with a misguided affection. She didn’t know better. Couldn’t. He had rewired her to be like this—helplessly needy, clinging to him like he was her only reason to exist.

They stepped outside, the morning sun warm but still gentle. They slid into the car, but instead of heading straight for the highway, Smith veered into a parking lot, pulling up in front of an upscale boutique. The storefront shimmered, sunlight bouncing off the large glass windows that displayed an array of expensive summer dresses.

“Out,” Smith ordered, his voice calm but laced with command. Lizzy followed without hesitation, trailing him inside with wide eyes, curiosity sparkling in her expression. Her tight shirt clung obscenely to her chest, her enhanced breasts pushing against the fabric. She caught the eyes of the store clerk, who smiled politely, though her gaze lingered a little too long on Lizzy’s curves.

Smith didn’t bother with pleasantries or explanations. He led Lizzy toward the racks of delicate, high-end dresses, each one more luxurious than the last. “Pick something,” he said, leaning back casually against a display, watching her fingers graze over the soft fabrics.

Lizzy’s eyes lit up as she sifted through the dresses, eager to choose something that would please him. After a few moments, she pulled out a couple of flowing summer dresses, their soft material designed to hug her figure in all the right places. She turned, holding them up for his approval, her full breasts unavoidably the center of attention.

“No bras,” Smith said, slicing through the quiet. His tone was calm but absolute. “You don’t need them anymore.”

Lizzy blinked, then nodded quickly, accepting his words without hesitation. “And panties?” she asked, her voice soft, almost timid.

Smith’s eyes lingered on her, a hint of a smirk curling at the edge of his lips. “No. You don’t need those either.”

A flush crept up Lizzy’s cheeks, but she didn’t argue. She nodded again, biting her lip, clutching the dresses a little tighter before heading toward the dressing room. Her heart raced, already imagining how she’d look for him, how much he’d appreciate it. She changed quickly, slipping into one of the light summer dresses that cascaded over her body, her full chest free beneath the fabric. The mirror reflected the perfect image—no bra, no panties, just the soft fabric clinging to her curves.

She stepped out of the dressing room, her pulse quickening when Smith’s eyes briefly scanned her from head to toe. He didn’t say much, just gave a small nod before turning to pay at the counter.

They left the store without another word, Lizzy now wrapped in the light fabric of her new dress. Her body responded to the feel of it, to the way it left her exposed in exactly the ways Smith liked. She felt his eyes on her as they walked back to the car, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing with thoughts of how much she needed him, how deeply she loved him.

For Smith, it was just another step in the process. Another nudge in her conditioning. The divide between them only grew wider, but Lizzy couldn’t see it. All she felt was the warmth of his approval.

The sleek black car glided along the highway, humming over the asphalt as Palm Springs grew closer on the horizon. The sky stretched out in a perfect blue above, the vast desert spreading out around them, but inside the car, the tension was thick, unspoken.

Smith kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on his thigh, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. His thoughts weren’t on the landscape, or the quiet of the drive. They were on Lizzy, on the total control he held over her—over every aspect of her being.

Beside him, Lizzy fidgeted in her seat, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the new dress she’d just bought. The seatbelt pressed tightly across her chest, pushing her swollen breasts together. She could feel the weight of them, still heavy, still full from the night before. Every movement, every breath reminded her of him—of what he had done to her body, how he had molded her into something that existed solely for his pleasure.

She bit her lip, shifting in the seat as the sensation of fullness throbbed through her, a constant, pulsing reminder of her dependency.

Her mind buzzed with him, a constant hum she couldn’t shut off. Everything felt perfect now—he made her feel perfect. Her body, designed for him, craved him endlessly, and every stolen glance at his calm, in-control profile only deepened that need. She loved the way he took care of everything, the way he held all the power. Even though some small part of her knew he didn’t love her the way she loved him, it didn’t matter. The urge to please him, to be close to him, eclipsed everything else.

Lizzy shifted in her seat, her thighs pressing together as a soft moan escaped her lips before she could stop it. She could still feel him inside her, the intensity of last night echoing through her body. Her swollen breasts, the dull ache in them, reminded her of how deeply he owned her now. Every nerve, every inch of her flesh, was designed to need him.

Smith caught her movement in his peripheral vision but remained silent, his expression unreadable. He liked watching her squirm, liked knowing that even now, as they drove in quiet, she couldn’t escape the need he had engineered in her. Her fidgeting, the way her body seemed restless without his touch—it was all part of the plan. And it amused him.

Lizzy turned to him, her heart fluttering. “It’s so beautiful out here,” she murmured, her voice small, trying to focus on something other than the heat building inside her.

“Hmm,” was his only reply, his voice low and indifferent. His mind wasn’t on the landscape or her comment. He was calculating, always thinking of how much further he could push her. The more she needed him, the more power he had. She hadn’t even reached the brink yet.

Her hand drifted up to her chest, fingers tracing the top of her dress. The material was light, almost sheer, and she could feel the swell of her breasts beneath it, still tender and warm. The thought of him filling her again—of that overwhelming fullness—made her shiver. She shifted in her seat, feeling her body respond just to the thought of him.

“I’m really glad we’re going to your beach house,” she said softly, her voice trembling with excitement. “It’ll be nice… just the two of us.”

Smith’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes never leaving the road. “Yeah,” he muttered, his tone flat, betraying none of the thoughts swirling in his head. He knew what she wanted, what she thought this trip was—a romantic escape, a chance to get closer to him. But for him, it was just another stage in her conditioning.

Another test to see how far she would fall.

Lizzy leaned back, resting her head against the window, closing her eyes for a moment. She imagined the beach house, just the two of them alone, her body tuned perfectly to his desires. She thought about how much she loved him, how deeply she craved his touch, his approval. Somewhere, deep down, she knew he didn’t love her back. But instead of dampening her feelings, it only made her love him more. She wanted to prove herself, to be everything he needed.

The car sped down the highway, the desert blurring by in shades of sand and sky, but Lizzy’s mind was far from the scenery. She glanced at her phone, noticing another missed call from Leo. Guilt gnawed at her, but she quickly shoved it aside. "He’ll never understand this," she thought, her thumb hovering over the ‘block’ button before deciding to ignore it. She would deal with Leo later. Right now, all her thoughts were on Smith, on pleasing him, on making him proud.

Smith let the silence stretch, enjoying the quiet tension that hung between them. He could feel her need, her excitement, and it fed his control. By the time they reached the beach house, she would be more than ready for him, her body primed for whatever he demanded. For now, he let her simmer in her own desire, a slow burn building toward the inevitable. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the road.

As the morning passed, the car finally pulled up to the beach house, gravel crunching under the tires as the engine cut off. Lizzy’s breath hitched as she stared at the sleek, modern structure before them. Tall palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, framing the minimalist house with its clean lines and massive glass windows. Beyond it, the ocean shimmered under the afternoon sun, waves lapping rhythmically against the shore, a distant hum that only added to the stillness around them.

Smith stepped out with that same calm confidence, while Lizzy followed, her eyes wide as she took in the sight. Her heart raced, but not because of the house. She barely noticed the luxury around her. Her focus was entirely on him—on the way he moved, the way he commanded every space he entered. His presence made her feel small, insignificant, yet filled with a burning need. Each step sent a pulse through her chest, her swollen breasts aching, her body tethered to the constant hum of desire she couldn’t shake.

Smith led her to the front door, which slid open with a soft hiss as they entered. The interior was as striking as the outside—spacious and minimal, designed with the same sharp precision that marked every aspect of his life. The walls were a cool white, the furniture sparse but clearly expensive, and the massive windows framed the ocean view perfectly. The entire space felt cold, detached—a place for control, not comfort.

Lizzy barely registered the decor. Her thoughts were on Smith. Always on Smith. Her body already buzzing with the anticipation of what would happen next.

Lizzy paused, her gaze drifting around the sleek, polished room. “The view’s beautiful,” she whispered, her voice trembling, an attempt to ground herself in something other than the throbbing need inside her.

Smith didn’t respond. He didn’t even glance toward the windows. His eyes stayed on her, watching, reading every subtle shift in her posture, every breath that hitched in her throat. Lizzy felt her skin heat under his gaze, her body flushing with the growing awareness of how he was devouring her with his eyes. She could feel the tension spreading through her, tightening her chest, pooling low in her belly.

He crossed the room with quiet, deliberate steps, his presence pulling her in like gravity. Lizzy followed him instinctively, her feet moving without thought, her body already attuned to his every move. The house, the view, the ocean outside—none of it mattered. It all blurred into the background, just noise compared to the raw pull of desire that thrummed between them.

At the sliding glass doors, the soft crash of the ocean waves grew louder, blending with the racing pulse in her ears. Smith’s hand hovered over the door control, his lips curling into that smirk she craved so much—the one that said he was in absolute control, the one that sent shivers through her spine every time.

With a soft hiss, the door slid open, revealing the deck and the expanse of ocean beyond. But Lizzy’s eyes stayed on him. Her body hummed with anticipation, heat coiling tighter inside her, pooling between her legs. Every nerve was buzzing, waiting for his command, knowing she wouldn’t hesitate once he spoke.

The deck stretched wide under the fading sunlight, the ocean a soft murmur in the distance, waves gently lapping against the shore. The sky bled orange and pink, a serene beauty that seemed at odds with the tension crackling between them. Lizzy barely noticed it, though. Her body was hyper-focused on the man beside her, her pulse racing, her skin tingling with need.

Smith’s hand grazed her back, a touch so light it sent a jolt through her entire body. Her breath hitched, heat surging through her, her skin growing hotter, slicker with every passing second. Her pussy was already throbbing, the slickness between her thighs undeniable. It wasn’t just lust—it was deeper, an insatiable hunger that had worked its way into every fiber of her being.

“Bend over,” he commanded, his voice low, firm, leaving no room for hesitation.

Lizzy moved immediately, her heart pounding in her chest as she approached the outdoor sofa. She bent over the cushions, her fingers gripping the soft fabric as her dress rode up, exposing her bare skin to the warm breeze. Her entire body trembled, every nerve alive with anticipation. She could feel the cool air against her thighs, her pussy slick and swollen, ready for him.

Smith stood behind her, his gaze dark with satisfaction as he watched her submit, her body bent and waiting for him. He reached down, gripping the hem of her dress, pulling it up roughly, baring her ass and the wetness glistening between her legs. She was perfect—crafted, fine-tuned for him. His cock twitched with the anticipation of taking her again, of stretching her body beyond its limits.

Lizzy’s breath came in short, shaky gasps, her body quivering with need. She didn’t have to wait long before she felt the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance, impossibly large and throbbing. Her body shuddered at the sensation, her pussy stretching wide as he pushed inside, inch by agonizing inch. The pain mixed with pleasure, her body straining to accommodate him, but the need, the raw hunger, overpowered everything else.

“Ohhh… fuuuck…” she gasped, her voice trembling as her fingers dug into the sofa cushions. He was so big, stretching her impossibly wide, filling her to the point of near agony.

Smith growled softly, his eyes locked on the way his cock disappeared into her, her pussy gripping him tight with each thrust. He could feel the bulge forming in her lower abdomen with his hands, his cock pressing against her from the inside, stretching her in a way that made his chest swell with satisfaction. She was made for him—her body designed to take every inch, no matter how unnatural it seemed.

Lizzy’s mind blurred with sensation, her body alight with both pain and pleasure as he filled her completely. The pressure was overwhelming, her body trembling with every slow thrust as she felt his cock stretch her beyond anything she had ever imagined.

“You feel that, don’t you?” His voice was rough, thick with satisfaction as he started moving, his cock sliding in and out of her tight, wet heat. “You were made for this.”

“Yes… yessss…” she moaned, her voice barely audible, her entire body shaking with each thrust. “I… I can feel it… all of it…”

Smith’s movements were slow, methodical, each thrust pushing deeper inside her, testing her limits. He reveled in the way her body responded, the way her pussy clenched around him as if trying to hold him in, desperate to keep every inch of him inside. Her moans grew louder, the discomfort melting into raw, burning pleasure as her body yielded fully to his control.

He pushed her harder, his thrusts growing more forceful, driving into her with a hunger that matched her own. Lizzy’s gasps turned into cries, her body trembling as she felt herself spiraling deeper into the sensation, her pussy tightening around him with every move.

Her entire world had shrunk to this moment—her body, his control, and the pleasure that consumed them both.

“Oh god… oh fuuuuck…” Lizzy’s voice cracked as the pressure built inside her, the overwhelming sensation of being stretched so fully, filled so completely. It was too much, yet exactly what her body craved. Every nerve was on fire, sparking with the intensity of his cock buried deep within her.

Smith’s pace quickened, his hips slapping against her ass with a relentless rhythm, the sound echoing off the deck. His hands gripped her hips hard, pulling her back into him with every thrust. He could feel her pussy fluttering around him, the spasms in her body growing more desperate as the pleasure built higher, her moans louder, more frantic.

Lizzy was on the brink, teetering at the edge of a release so intense it made her legs shake. His cock pounded into her, deep and unyielding, her core aching from the fullness. Her fingers clawed at the cushions beneath her, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she felt herself hurtling toward an inevitable explosion of pleasure.

“Oh fuuuck… I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum…” she moaned, her voice trembling with the rawness of her need. She could feel it—the tightness coiling deep inside her, ready to snap.

With one final, brutal thrust, her body shattered. The orgasm ripped through her, crashing over her in waves, her pussy clenching around his cock with a force that made her entire body quake. She moaned, loud and raw, her voice thick with ecstasy as her body convulsed, her orgasm stretching out as his cock stayed buried deep inside her, refusing to let go.

Smith watched her, a cold satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he felt her pussy squeeze around him, her body trembling beneath him. But he wasn’t done yet.

Smith’s grip tightened on Lizzy’s hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he drove into her with a renewed force. The sound of skin on skin filled the air, mixing with the crash of the waves beyond the deck, though neither of them heard it. Their world had shrunk to this moment—his cock stretching her impossibly wide, and the relentless firestorm of sensation tearing through her with every thrust.

Lizzy’s breath was nothing but ragged gasps now, her body still reeling from her orgasm, but there was no break, no moment of calm. Smith kept pushing, harder, deeper, his cock plunging into her, sending new shockwaves through her core. Her mind was fogged with lust, pleasure so intense it wiped out everything else, leaving only him, only this. Her legs trembled beneath her, barely able to hold her up, but she didn’t care. She needed him—needed every second of it.

“F-fuck… harder…” she whimpered, her voice cracking as the plea fell from her lips. Her body was already pushed beyond its limits, but she craved more, needed him to take her even further.

Smith didn’t slow down. Instead, a cruel smirk curled his lips as he slapped her ass hard, the sharp crack making her yelp in surprise, pleasure coursing through her at the sting. Her body jerked, her pussy tightening around his cock as the pain melted into the relentless throbbing of arousal.

“This what you want?” he growled, his voice low, almost dangerous. His hand came down again, harder, the sound echoing as Lizzy gasped in response. Her skin flushed under the assault, but the pain only drove her need higher. “You’re nothing but my fucktoy, built to take everything I give you.”

“Yes!” Lizzy cried out, her voice hoarse, her body shaking with every rough thrust. “I need it… I need you…”

Smith grunted in satisfaction, pounding into her harder. His cock stretched her so wide, the bulge of him visible in her abdomen with every deep thrust, the sight sending a thrill through him. Her body reacted instinctively, her pussy gripping him tighter, pulling him in as though she couldn’t get enough. Each slap, each brutal thrust, sent her spiraling deeper, her mind barely able to keep up with the relentless intensity.

Her body rocked against him, sweat slick on her skin as she clung to the sofa, her knuckles white with the force of her grip. She could feel the heat building again, even faster this time, her pussy throbbing with an almost unbearable need for release. Her mind blanked, consumed by the overwhelming sensation of his cock driving her to the edge once more.

Smith’s hand slammed down on her ass again, the crack of the slap followed by a low growl of satisfaction. He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling as she neared the brink again, but he wasn’t finished.

“Take it,” he growled, slamming into her harder, each thrust more punishing than the last. His muscles tensed, the burn of release coiling in his core, but he held back, wanting to push her further.

Lizzy’s breath hitched, her entire body trembling as the heat inside her reached a boiling point. Her muscles tightened, her pussy clenching around him as the pressure built, her body hurtling toward another orgasm. “Oh god… I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum again…” she gasped, her voice shaking as her body convulsed, on the edge of breaking.

Smith didn’t relent. His cock plunged deeper, harder, driving her to the brink. His grip on her hips tightened as he felt the fire building inside him, the heat rushing through him. And then, with one final, brutal thrust, he came.

A guttural moan tore from his throat as he emptied himself inside her, his cock pulsing as he filled her with thick, hot cum. The sheer volume overwhelmed her, her stomach distending as he poured into her, her abdomen swelling with the weight of his release. She felt it—hot and thick—filling her completely, her pussy fluttering around him as her own orgasm hit her like a tidal wave.

She screamed, her body convulsing as the pleasure ripped through her, the sensation of being so completely filled pushing her over the edge. Her stomach bulged from the weight of his cum, her mind spinning, her entire being consumed by the intensity of it all. She belonged to him, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Smith groaned, his cock still buried deep inside her as he gripped her ass, watching with satisfaction as her body trembled from the force of her orgasm. He could see the outline of his cock bulging inside her, her swollen stomach a testament to how much he’d given her. And still, he wasn’t done.

Lizzy’s body quivered, her pussy still clenching around him as she gasped for air, her mind hazy from the sheer intensity. She could feel the weight of his cum inside her, her stomach distended, her body still pulsing with the aftershocks. But even in the haze of her release, she wanted more.

“F-fuck…” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her body continued to tremble.

Smith

Later, Smith reclined lazily on the oversized leather couch in the spacious living room of the beach house. The air was thick with the aftermath of their intense session, the scent of sweat and sex still clinging to them both. The smell of sizzling steak and grilled seafood wafted from the kitchen, the faint hum of the delivery truck disappearing down the driveway.

Lizzy knelt beside the couch, her eyes locked on him, her body still trembling from the intensity of what they had just shared. Her stomach was swollen, distended from the sheer volume of his cum. She didn’t need food anymore—not when his body gave her everything she needed. Her gaze never left him as he lifted a forkful of steak to his mouth, watching the muscles in his jaw flex as he chewed.

Smith’s appetite was as sharp as ever. The lavish spread before him—perfectly seared steaks, plump shrimp, lobster tails glistening with butter, and an array of sides—could have fed several people. But it was all for him. He needed it now, to keep up with what he was giving her, to fuel the energy it took to sustain both of them.

“You’re quiet,” he remarked casually, slicing through another piece of steak. His eyes flicked toward her briefly before returning to the feast. “You know, it takes a lot out of me to keep you going like this.”

Lizzy’s eyes widened slightly at the sound of his voice, her heart skipping. Every word he spoke tightened the invisible strings that bound her to him. She didn’t fully understand what he meant, but that didn’t matter. He was everything—he took care of her, made her whole. Her gaze lingered on him as he ate, admiring the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, the way he exuded effortless dominance. He was fueling himself, and that meant he was fueling her. It made her love him even more.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice soft, almost reverent. “I’m… grateful. For everything.”

Smith smirked, pausing to take a slow sip of wine. The deep red liquid swirled in his glass, catching the fading sunlight streaming through the windows. He leaned back in his chair, eyes gleaming with amusement as they locked onto her. She knelt at his feet, silent, wide-eyed, her body still trembling slightly from the earlier intensity.

“I have to eat for both of us now,” he continued, gesturing toward the spread in front of him. “You don’t need food anymore. Not like I do.” He cut into the lobster tail, juices dripping onto the plate as he took another bite. “But it takes a lot to keep you going. To keep you full, to keep you satisfied. It’s not an easy job.”

Lizzy’s chest swelled with a rush of affection. He was right, of course. He did everything for her. He provided for her in ways no one else ever could. She didn’t need food, didn’t need anything but him. His cum sustained her—it filled her, nourished her, made her whole. The thought only deepened the connection she felt, making her even more in awe of what he’d created.

“I love that you take care of me,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. “I love… everything about you.”

Smith chuckled, cutting into another bite of steak, chewing slowly, savoring the rich flavors. He watched her for a moment, eyes glittering with quiet satisfaction.

“Of course you do,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. “You don’t really have a choice, do you?”

Lizzy blinked, her breath catching in her throat. His words hung in the air, undeniable. But she didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. He was right—she didn’t have a choice. And that only made her love for him feel more powerful, more consuming. She adored him, worshiped him. Sitting at his feet while he indulged, feeling the warmth of his attention on her—it was all she wanted, all she needed.

Smith ate leisurely, his eyes drifting now and then to the swell of her stomach, still distended from the sheer amount of cum he had filled her with. He smirked, pleased with his work, with the control he held over every inch of her. When he finished, he stretched, standing from the table, glancing toward the open doors that led to the pool.

“Let’s go for a swim,” he said, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just fucked her into submission hours earlier. He didn’t wait for a response, already heading toward the door, knowing she would follow without hesitation.

Lizzy scrambled to her feet, her body still aching, still adjusting to the changes he’d wrought on her. But she moved quickly, eyes locked on him as he stepped onto the deck, the sunlight kissing his skin. Even now, after everything they’d done, her body responded instantly to him, that simmering hunger bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for his next command.

They reached the pool, the water sparkling in the golden afternoon light. Smith pulled off his shirt, muscles rippling as he tossed it aside. Lizzy watched, breath catching in her throat, her eyes wide as he moved with that same calculated ease that always left her spellbound. He slipped into the water without a word, turning back to her with a smirk.

“Come on,” he said, his voice low, commanding.

Lizzy hesitated for just a moment, her mind still spinning from the intensity of the day, but she quickly followed. She slipped into the cool water beside him, her skin tingling as the water rippled around them. The tension between them was still thick, palpable, even in the quiet serenity of the pool. She felt weightless, floating near him, but the weight of her feelings, the depth of her need, pulled her down.

Smith swam lazily, his body cutting through the water with practiced ease, while Lizzy stayed close, always a step behind, always waiting for his next move. The sun dipped lower, the light shifting to a soft gold as it spilled across the pool, but Lizzy barely noticed. Her focus stayed on him, on the quiet power he exuded, on the unspoken dynamic that kept her tethered to his every whim.

Later, as the sun hovered over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the private beach, Smith and Lizzy walked side by side, their feet sinking into the warm sand. The waves lapped gently at the shore, a soothing rhythm that blended with the quiet of the evening. Both of them were naked, their skin bathed in the fading sunlight. Yet the mood between them was starkly different.

Smith walked with the same confident ease, his steps sure and unhurried, his hands swinging loosely at his sides. He didn’t seem to care about the beauty around him—the way the sunset painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, or the warmth of the sand beneath his feet. His attention was elsewhere, distant, but the weight of his presence kept Lizzy anchored beside him.

She clung to his side, her breasts bouncing lightly with every step, her body still raw from everything they’d done. The ache between her legs was constant, a reminder of how completely he had claimed her, reshaped her. Every movement sent a ripple of pleasure through her, her body forever tuned to his touch. She didn’t need to speak. She didn’t need to think. All she needed was him.

As they walked, the ocean breeze cool against their heated skin, Lizzy stole a glance at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Could Leo ever accept him? The thought drifted in, unbidden, and she almost laughed at the absurdity. Her brother would never understand this—what she had become, what she needed. He’d try to pull me away, she thought, her stomach twisting. Ben’s overprotectiveness had always been suffocating, but now, it felt irrelevant, even alien. She doubted he could ever see Smith the way she did.

Even after everything, she still felt that fluttering need, the insatiable desire to please him, to be everything he wanted. The world around them blurred—the beach, the sunset, the gentle waves—nothing else mattered. Only him.

Lizzy’s eyes darted between the ocean and Smith, her heart fluttering wildly with each glance. She wanted to reach out, to take his hand, to close the distance between them, but something in his demeanor held her back. He was calm, detached, and though she walked right beside him, there was a gulf between them she couldn’t cross. Still, the need to feel closer gnawed at her, the aching urge to be in his orbit, even in this fragile moment of silence.

"Today was perfect," she whispered, her voice soft and searching as her gaze lifted to his face, hoping for a glimpse of affection, some sign that he felt what she did. "I love being with you like this. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted."

Smith glanced down at her, his expression unreadable. He didn’t slow his pace, his eyes flicking briefly over her body—how her breasts swayed with each step, the faint sheen of sweat still glistening on her skin. "You think this is love?" he asked, his tone light, teasing, though there was a sharp edge beneath it that made Lizzy’s stomach twist.

"I…" She faltered, her breath catching in her throat. The question caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to answer. Of course, she thought it was love—how could it not be? Everything she felt for him, everything she needed from him, had to be love. "Yes," she said finally, her voice small. "I love you. I feel it… every time you’re with me."

Smith chuckled softly, shaking his head as his gaze returned to the horizon. "You don’t understand, do you?" His voice was calm, almost detached, as if he were explaining something obvious, something so simple it amused him. "This isn’t love, Lizzy. You were built to need me. Your body, your mind—it’s all programmed to respond to me. What you’re feeling… it’s dependency."

Lizzy’s heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening as the weight of his words pressed down on her. "But… I do love you," she insisted, her voice trembling. She couldn’t believe what he was saying—everything she felt for him was real, wasn’t it? "I know I need you, but that doesn’t mean it’s not love. I feel it. I know you feel it too."

Smith stopped walking. He turned to face her fully, the golden light of the setting sun casting shadows across his features. But there was no warmth in his eyes. "Lizzy, you were made for one purpose," he said, his voice steady, almost cold. "You’re mine. You exist to satisfy me, to fulfill my needs. That’s why you were created. And you’re perfect for that. But that doesn’t mean I love you. It just means you’re doing your job."

Lizzy stared at him, her mind reeling. His words landed like blows, each one a hammer strike that threatened to crack the fragile sense of belonging she had clung to. Was this really all she was to him? Just a creation, a toy? "No," she whispered, shaking her head. "It’s more than that. It has to be."

Smith’s expression remained unchanged, but a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he watched her struggle. He stepped closer, lifting his hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face, his touch gentle even as his words cut deep. "You’re my toy, Lizzy," he said quietly, his voice smooth, almost soothing. "My perfect creation. I made you exactly how I wanted. And you’re doing everything I designed you to do. But don’t confuse that with love."

Her breath hitched, her body trembling as she took in what he said. A knot of rejection tightened in her chest, but even then—even as he told her the cold, hard truth—she couldn’t pull away. She couldn’t stop the overwhelming need that pulsed through her, the need for him. "But I feel it," she whispered, her voice fragile and breaking. "When I’m with you, I feel… complete."

Smith’s hand slid down, his fingers curling around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her heart race, but not enough to hurt. "Of course you feel complete," he said softly, his lips curling into that familiar, cruel smile. "You were made to be mine. You’re perfect, Lizzy. But that doesn’t mean I belong to you."

Lizzy’s mind spun, her thoughts a tangled mess of confusion and desperation. She wanted to believe there was more—somewhere, deep down, she wanted to believe he felt something for her. But his words were so final, so absolute, and it terrified her. She couldn’t exist without him. "I don’t care," she said quickly, her voice trembling with fear. "I don’t care if it’s just because you made me this way. I love you. I’ll always love you."

Smith’s grip on her throat tightened slightly—a warning—but there was no anger in his eyes. Just calm, calculated control. "You’ll always need me," he corrected, his voice low, almost a purr. "There’s a difference."

Tears welled up in Lizzy’s eyes, her heart aching as the realization hit her—he wasn’t going to say what she wanted. He wasn’t going to tell her he loved her. But even now, even knowing the truth, she couldn’t let go of the hope that maybe, in some way, what they had was real. "I don’t care," she whispered again, her voice barely audible. "As long as I’m with you… that’s all that matters."

Smith’s hand slipped from her throat, trailing down her body as he stepped back, his eyes lingering on her one last time before he turned toward the ocean. "That’s the only reason you exist," he said over his shoulder, his voice final, distant. "To be with me. To serve me. Nothing more."

Lizzy stood frozen, his words like weights pressing down on her. She felt hollow, empty, yet at the same time, she couldn’t shake the deep, aching love that still consumed her. Even if it was just dependency, even if she was only doing what she was built to do, she couldn’t imagine life without him. She couldn’t imagine being anything but his.

She followed him in silence, her body drawn to his, her heart still pounding with that endless need to be close to him. The reality of their dynamic settled in like a heavy fog, but she accepted it. She was his, completely. She always would be.

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the sand as they walked. The distance between them grew wider, even though she stayed close.

The beach house loomed dark and quiet as they stepped inside, the soft crash of waves in the distance the only sound. Night had fallen, the sky swallowed by velvet blackness, but inside, a different tension hung in the air—thick, suffocating, electric. Lizzy’s body buzzed with anticipation, her every nerve attuned to him, waiting, aching for his touch. The walk along the beach had left her feeling raw, vulnerable, but still filled with that deep, unshakable need for him.

Smith didn’t bother with pleasantries. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, something primal flickered in his eyes. His demeanor shifted, dark and commanding. Without a word, he closed the space between them, his hand wrapping around her wrist, pulling her firmly toward the nearest wall. His grip was unrelenting—firm, absolute.

Her breath caught as she stumbled slightly, her back hitting the cool surface of the wall. She didn’t resist. She never would.

Lizzy’s breath hitched, her heart racing as Smith pressed her against the cool wall, his body radiating heat, overwhelming her senses. There was no tenderness in his movements, no softness—just raw, animalistic lust, and she felt her body respond immediately, arousal flooding through her. She needed him, craved him, and nothing else mattered. In this moment, she was his, entirely.

Smith’s hand slid down her body, roughly yanking up the hem of her dress, exposing her completely. His fingers dug into her skin, hard and deliberate, testing her limits, seeing how much she could take. Lizzy gasped, her back arching, her body trembling under the weight of his touch. She could already feel the heat pooling between her legs, her need for him overwhelming everything else.

He didn’t say a word—he didn’t need to. His intentions were clear in every sharp movement, every claim he made on her body. His cock strained against his pants, already hard, and when Lizzy glanced down, her eyes widened at the sight of him. The sheer size of him made her shudder. Fear and excitement mixed inside her, her body aching from their earlier session, but her hunger for him was insatiable. She needed to feel him inside her again, no matter how rough or brutal it would be.

Without warning, Smith’s cock grew hard once again. Lizzy’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him stroke himself, his eyes locked onto hers, daring her to resist. But there was no resistance. Her body was already shaking with anticipation, her pussy wet and ready, the need inside her clawing desperately.

In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the hips, spinning her around so her chest was pressed against the wall. His hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back just enough to hear the menace in his voice. “You’re going to take it,” he growled, his voice dark, commanding. “Every inch of it.”

“Fuuuck…” Lizzy moaned, her body trembling, her mind already clouded with lust. She could feel the tip of his cock press against her entrance, and for a moment, doubt flickered—was she ready for this? But before the thought could fully form, he thrust inside her, slamming his cock deep into her pussy with brutal force.

“Aaahhh!” Lizzy’s scream echoed through the house, a raw, primal mix of pain and pleasure as her pussy stretched impossibly wide to take him. He was too big, filling her beyond capacity, yet her body responded instinctively, tightening around him, pulling him deeper. The fullness was dizzying, her walls fluttering as he pushed further, every inch of his cock claimed her.

“Ohhh fuuuuuuck…” she gasped, her fingers clawing at the wall, her legs trembling as he started to move, each thrust harder than the last. He pounded into her relentlessly, his cock driving deeper and deeper, her body shuddering with the intensity.

Smith grunted with satisfaction, his hands gripping her hips as he fucked her harder, his movements mechanical, detached. He wasn’t doing this for pleasure—he was testing her, pushing her to her limits, seeing just how much her body could take. And as he watched her squirm beneath him, her back arching, her pussy squeezing him tight with every thrust, he couldn’t help but smirk at her desperation.

Lizzy’s mind was a blur of sensation, her body straining under the relentless assault of his cock. The pain mixed with pleasure, blending into a chaotic rush that left her dizzy. All she could feel was him—filling her, stretching her, dominating her in every possible way. It was too much, but she needed more. She needed him to push her until she shattered.

“H-harder… fuck me harder…” she begged, her voice breathless, desperate.

Smith’s lips twisted into a cruel smile as he obliged, his hips slamming into her with brutal force, his cock stretching her impossibly wide. He could feel her body trembling, her pussy tightening around him, but he didn’t slow down. He wanted to break her, to see just how far she could go before she couldn’t take anymore.

Lizzy’s legs buckled beneath her, her body giving in to the sheer force of his thrusts, but Smith held her up, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he continued fucking her with ruthless precision. Her mind was gone, lost to the brutal rhythm of his cock slamming into her, her pussy clenching, begging for release.

“Fuuuuck…” Smith muttered, watching her body react to him, her pussy gripping him tighter with every thrust. He could feel her nearing the edge, her gasps turning to desperate moans, and he knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

Lizzy’s entire body trembled, her muscles tightening as the pressure inside her built to a breaking point. She was so close, every nerve in her body on fire, her mind screaming for release. All she could think about was him—his cock, his hands, the way he claimed her so completely. She moaned his name, her voice trembling, pleading for him to push her over the edge.

And then, with one final, brutal thrust, she shattered.

“Fuuuuck! Ohhhh god! Yessssss!” she cried out, her pussy clenching around his cock, her entire body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through her. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her breathless, trembling, completely at his mercy.

Smith grinned as her body shook, her pussy squeezing him tight as she came, but he didn’t stop. He wasn’t done yet. Not even close.

Smith’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming erratic, more forceful as he felt his own release building. His hands gripped Lizzy’s hips with bruising force, pulling her back into him as he fucked her harder, driving his cock deeper into her stretched pussy. He watched the way her body responded, the way her pussy tightened around him, her moans turning to whimpers as he continued to fuck her relentlessly.

Lizzy’s orgasm had left her trembling, her body weak and limp against the wall, but he didn’t slow down. The pleasure had been too much, her body pushed far beyond its limits, but still, the need for him was stronger. She could feel the pressure building again, her insides aching from the sheer force of his thrusts, but the hunger for him burned deeper.

“Ohhhh fuuuuck…” she whimpered, her body barely able to hold up, but she craved more. Her stomach churned as his cock stretched her wide, filling her completely. The brutal force of each thrust made her mind spin, her pussy fluttering around him, desperate for more, always more.

Smith grunted, his grip on her hips tightening as he slammed into her one last time, the heat inside him finally reaching its peak. His cock throbbed, pulsing inside her, and with a guttural moan, he came, flooding her pussy with his thick, hot cum.

Lizzy gasped as she felt the warmth fill her, her body trembling as his release washed over her, leaving her breathless, completely spent.

And still, she wanted more.

Smith grunted, his fingers digging into her soft, trembling flesh as he finally let himself go. With one final, savage thrust, he buried his cock deep inside her, groaning as the release hit, his cum spilling out in thick, hot waves. Lizzy’s breath hitched, her body jerking from the intensity as she felt his seed flood her, filling her up, stretching her further than before. Her pussy throbbed, clenching around him, milking every drop, the pressure inside her unbearable, yet intoxicating.

“Fuuuuck…” she gasped, her voice trembling as the weight of his cum filled her. She could feel her belly start to swell, distending slightly with each pulse, each thick rope of cum he pumped into her. It was overwhelming—her body at its breaking point, stuffed full, stretched, and still, she wanted more. Needed more. The heat of his release surged through her, filling her core, sending waves of warmth that radiated outward. Every thrust of his cock, every pulse of cum inside her, made her whole.

Her fingers clawed helplessly at the wall, her mind a fog of pleasure, pain, and pure, raw sensation. “Ohhh god… Yesssss,” she whimpered, her voice faint, breathless. Her body was his, completely, and the fullness inside her was both agony and ecstasy. She could feel the weight of it all—how full she was, how stretched her pussy had become—and still, she craved more, desperate for the intensity he brought. Every twitch of his cock sent another flood into her, pushing her to her limit.

Smith grunted, finishing with a satisfied growl, his cock still throbbing as he pulled out slowly. Her body shivered in the aftermath, her legs trembling, barely able to support her as she slumped against the wall.

She was a mess—his mess.

Lizzy couldn’t move, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as the aftershocks of pleasure still rippled through her. Her body trembled, weak and aching, her mind too clouded to process anything except the feeling of him—the fullness, the heat, the rawness of what he had done to her. She wanted more, even now, but the words wouldn’t come. Her throat was dry, her thoughts too scattered.

Smith stood there, watching her silently. There was no tenderness in his gaze, no affection—just cold, detached satisfaction. His eyes roamed over her ruined body, still trembling, still dripping with his cum, and a smirk flickered at the corner of his lips. She was perfect, but only in the way he had made her.

Without a word, he turned and walked away, his steps echoing softly in the quiet house. Lizzy remained slumped against the wall, her body aching, her legs too weak to hold her up. She watched him leave, a knot of longing tightening in her chest, but she didn’t have the strength to call out to him, even as the desire still burned inside her.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Smith stepped out onto the patio. The cool night air hit his skin, a stark contrast to the heat that still lingered on his body. He inhaled deeply, the sound of the ocean filling the silence around him. The stars were scattered across the sky, twinkling against the dark canvas of night, but Smith barely noticed. His mind had already moved on, detached, calculating. The satisfaction still hummed in his body, but it wasn’t enough. It never was.

Leaning against the railing, he stared out at the dark horizon, the rhythmic crash of waves a distant, soothing presence. As he stood there, his mind drifted, wondering how long this would last—how long before Lizzy’s perfect submission became too predictable, too easy. She was still useful, still pliable, but deep down, he knew this was just another phase. Another experiment. Sooner or later, he’d grow bored. He always did.

For now, she would do.

The morning sunlight filtered softly through the windows, casting golden beams across the quiet room. The air was still, the distant hum of the ocean barely audible. Smith lay on his back, one arm resting behind his head, his eyes half-closed as his thoughts wandered to the day ahead. The events of the previous night barely registered, already fading from his mind. Beside him, Lizzy stirred.

She moved closer, her body instinctively curling toward his. Her skin was warm, soft, her breath gentle against his chest. Even in sleep, she clung to him, her need palpable, an ever-present weight that pressed against him. Her hand slid across his chest, her touch light, almost tentative, but beneath it was that same insistent hunger that never seemed to fade.

Smith’s jaw clenched as he felt her shift, the way her body gravitated toward him, always needing, always wanting more. It was suffocating. Her desire, her dependency—it was relentless, a constant gnawing at the edges of his patience. No matter how much he gave her, no matter how often he filled her, it was never enough. Her need for him was all-consuming.

Lizzy sighed softly, her lips brushing against his shoulder as she pressed herself closer, her breasts flattening against his side. “Mmmm… morning,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep, heavy with the same desperate need that always simmered beneath the surface.

Smith’s eyes flicked toward her, his expression hard, but he didn’t respond. He could feel the tension in her body, the way she waited for him to acknowledge her, to give her something—anything. But the weight of her presence, of her constant craving for him, had become a burden. He had made her this way, designed her to need him, to live off his touch, his cum. But now, it felt like too much.

Lizzy’s fingers traced lazy patterns across his chest, her body pressing tighter against him, trying to bridge the gap between them. She craved his attention, his approval, and even now, as she lay next to him, the desire burned in her, unrelenting.

“Morning…” she whispered again, her voice soft, hopeful, waiting for him to respond.

But Smith’s mind had already drifted elsewhere, detached from her. Her constant need had become suffocating, her endless hunger for him too much to bear. No matter how much he gave, she always wanted more.

Lizzy shifted beside him, her body moving with the same eagerness, the same unspoken desire. But Smith barely noticed. He had moved on, his mind already calculating, planning. She was still useful for now. But soon, he knew, even that would fade.

Smith’s voice was flat, laced with irritation. “Do you need something?” he asked, not bothering to hide the frustration creeping into his tone.

Lizzy’s breath hitched, her fingers lightly trailing down his chest, eyes wide, searching his face for any flicker of warmth. “I just… I miss you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with that familiar, gnawing ache. “I need you.”

Smith exhaled sharply, staring up at the ceiling. The same routine, day in and day out. Her hunger for him—for his cum—was insatiable. What had once amused him, watching her body react to every word, every touch, was starting to wear thin. He had designed her to survive days without a “feeding,” but she never let it get that far. She was always desperate, always clinging, always fucking needing.

“I’ve already given you more than enough,” he said coolly, brushing her hand off his chest as he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

Lizzy’s heart dropped at the coldness in his tone, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she followed him like a shadow, sitting beside him, her body gravitating toward his as if she couldn’t stop herself. “I can’t help it,” she murmured, her voice small and pleading. “I need you… I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

Smith turned his head, his gaze sharp, calculating. He could see it—the desperation in her eyes, the way her body seemed to vibrate with need, her pussy already soaked, ready for him without even a touch. She was pathetic, really. So completely consumed by him, so helpless without his cock inside her.

And yet, even as the frustration gnawed at him, a dark satisfaction stirred. Watching her squirm, seeing how her body reacted to even the smallest movement, was still somewhat amusing. She was a toy. His toy. Perfectly designed, perfectly obedient. But the novelty was fading.

“I made you this way,” he said, his voice low, mocking. “Now you can’t even go a day without begging for it.”

Lizzy swallowed hard, her body trembling, but she couldn’t deny the truth of his words. She was helpless without him, her mind and body enslaved to the need to feel him, to be filled with his cum. It was all she thought about, all she craved. “Please,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Just… please.”

Smith’s lips curled into a smirk. She was a fucking mess, and he loved watching her squirm. Her need was pathetic, but it was also deliciously satisfying. Without saying a word, he reached for her, yanking her roughly down onto the bed, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.

Lizzy gasped, her heart racing as he forced her legs apart, positioning himself between her thighs. Her body responded instantly, her pussy dripping, her breath quickening in anticipation. She was trembling beneath him, waiting, aching, needing.

Smith didn’t bother with any pretense. He thrust into her, hard and deep, his cock stretching her wide as her pussy clenched around him. Lizzy’s back arched, her fingers clutching the sheets as she moaned, her body jolting from the sheer force of his movements. There was no tenderness, no care. This wasn’t for her—it was never for her. It was for him. A reminder of what she existed for.

“Is this what you fucking wanted?” he growled, his hips slamming into hers, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room.

“Yessss… yesssss… fuuuuck…” Lizzy gasped, her body writhing beneath him, the pain mixing with pleasure, the brutal force of his cock pushing her to the edge. “I need it… I need you…”

Smith grunted, his grip tightening on her hips, fucking her harder, faster. He watched her with detached satisfaction as her body responded to him, her pussy squeezing him tighter with every thrust. Her moans became more desperate, louder, but in his mind, it had all become routine. The same begging, the same desperation. She was predictable. Her constant hunger was starting to bore him, even though he had been the one to create it.

But still, there was something about the way her body clung to him, the way her pussy gripped him as if it would never let go. It was pathetic, but it was also intoxicating.

Lizzy’s moans turned into whimpers, her body shaking beneath him as he fucked her relentlessly. She was a wreck, her mind clouded with nothing but the overwhelming need to please him, to feel him, to be filled by him. Her legs trembled, her pussy fluttering as the pressure built, and she knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

“Fuuuck…” Smith muttered under his breath, feeling her nearing the edge, her body tightening, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps.

This had been going on for days. Every morning, every night, she clung to him, her hunger never fading. She was always begging, always desperate. Smith indulged her when he felt like it, fucking her with cold amusement, watching her body spiral further into dependency. But deep down, the frustration simmered. He had made her this way, and now, she was becoming tiresome.

But every time he fucked her, every time he felt her pussy tighten around him, he couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Later, Smith lay sprawled on a lounge chair by the pool, the warm sun beating down on his skin, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose. A cold drink sat beside him, condensation dripping down the glass as he took a slow sip. The beach house was quiet, serene, the distant sound of the ocean lapping at the shore. It should have been peaceful, a perfect moment of relaxation.

But Smith wasn’t relaxed.

His eyes drifted to Lizzy, who hovered just out of reach, her body practically vibrating with need. She stood there, naked as always, sculpted to perfection, her body flawless, every curve designed for him. But her presence no longer stirred the excitement it once had. She had become predictable—too familiar in her desperation, too eager to please. It was like watching a wind-up toy go through the same repetitive motions, over and over again.

She was waiting, hoping for any sign that he would call her over, use her again. But Smith didn’t even move, his gaze flicking over her, his mind already drifting elsewhere.

Lizzy’s breath caught as she stood there, her body trembling, her eyes pleading. But Smith didn’t care. Not right now.

She was his, yes. But she was also becoming tedious. Too much need, too little challenge.

For now, he let her wait.

Lizzy fidgeted nervously, her fingers twisting together as she stood just out of reach, waiting—begging—for him to acknowledge her. Her body was always ready, always aching for his touch, her mind clouded by the insatiable hunger he had drilled into her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt anything besides this overwhelming need for him, to be used, to be filled. It consumed her entirely, but now, creeping in alongside that craving, was something darker. A dull ache of confusion, of rejection.

“Smith…” she whispered, her voice trembling as she took a tentative step closer, her hands reaching toward him. “Please… I need you…”

Smith didn’t bother looking up. His eyes stayed fixed on the drink in his hand, watching the liquid swirl lazily in the glass. He took a sip, the alcohol burning as it slid down his throat, but even that sensation was muted, dull. He could feel her presence hovering, her breath coming in short, needy gasps, her body on edge, desperate for his touch. But it stirred nothing in him. No excitement, no thrill. It had become too easy, too boring.

“You always need something,” he muttered, his tone flat, detached. Finally, he glanced at her, taking in the way her body trembled with anticipation. Her nipples were hard, her thighs pressed together, a futile attempt to ease the ache between her legs. She was a perfect sight, the way she was designed to be, but it didn’t stir him like it once had.

Lizzy swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as she stepped closer. She could feel the coldness in his voice, the rejection in his gaze, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her body was on autopilot, driven by the need he had programmed into her. “Please…” she whispered again, her voice cracking. “I’ll do anything.”

Smith smirked, but it was empty, devoid of any real amusement. “You already do,” he said, setting the glass down and stretching lazily. “You’ve been doing the same thing for days. Weeks.” His voice carried a hint of boredom, as if her entire existence had become a tedious routine, a dull rhythm that he no longer cared to follow.

Lizzy flinched at his words, her heart sinking, but her need—her desperation—was stronger than the sting of his rejection. She took another step forward, then another, until she was kneeling beside the lounge chair, her hands resting on his legs. Her entire body shook with the proximity of him. “Please, Smith… I can’t take it. I need you… I need you to fuck me…”

He stared down at her, the amusement in his eyes flickering for a brief moment before fading entirely. He had made her this way—helpless, dependent, always begging for his attention. And for a while, it had been fun. The control, the power over every thought, every action she had. But now, it was tiresome. She was always begging, always needing, and no matter how much he gave, it was never enough. The thrill was gone, replaced with monotony.

“Fine,” he muttered, sitting up slightly, his hands gripping her arms as he pulled her roughly onto the lounge chair. Lizzy’s breath hitched, her body responding instantly. She straddled him, her legs spreading, her pussy already soaked, already aching for him. It didn’t matter that his touch was careless, rough. She needed him, craved him. Every time he touched her, it felt like a promise, like she would finally be whole.

Smith wasted no time. He shoved his cock into her roughly, stretching her wide, making her gasp. Her hands clutched his chest as he started fucking her with that same mechanical, detached rhythm. There was no passion, no real desire behind his movements. It was just another fuck, just another way to keep her from whining for the rest of the day.

“Ohhhh… fuuuuck… yesssss…” Lizzy moaned, her hips grinding against him, her pussy clenching around his cock, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. She could feel him deep inside her, filling her completely, and it should have been everything she wanted. But something was off. His thrusts were too controlled, too distant, and the usual thrill that followed their encounters felt muted, dulled. Still, she pressed against him, her body moving automatically, driven by the overwhelming need he had programmed into her.

Smith’s gaze drifted away from her, his mind wandering as he continued fucking her. It had become too predictable. She would moan, she would cum, and then she would beg for more, and the cycle would repeat. Again and again. Her body was flawless, her submission perfect, but it was starting to feel like just another routine.

He fucked her hard, but there was no fire in it. No real enjoyment. Lizzy moaned and writhed against him, her body responding as it always did, but even she could feel the distance between them. Still, she kept moving, kept pushing her hips against him, her pussy tightening around his cock, desperate for him to feel something. She was pathetic, she knew that, but she couldn’t stop. The need for him was too strong, too ingrained.

“Yesssss… Smith… more…” she gasped, her body trembling as the pleasure built inside her. “Please… don’t stop…”

But Smith barely registered her words. His mind was already elsewhere, already growing tired of the game.

He fucked her for hours, stopping only to eat, then to fuck her again. Lizzy clung to him after each session, her body trembling, craving more. Her hands were always on him, her pussy always wet, always begging to be filled again. And Smith indulged her, because it was easy, because it was what he had created her for. But with every passing hour, every mindless fuck, the weight of it all pressed down on him. The routine was suffocating.

By the time night fell, Lizzy was curled up against him again, her body exhausted but still needy, still waiting for him to give her more. Her breath was warm against his chest as she whispered his name, her voice trembling with desire. But Smith barely heard her. His mind was already detached, already far away, wondering how long he could keep this going before he grew tired of the game entirely.

For now, though, he would play along. Just one more day.

Lizzy pressed closer to him, her body still buzzing with the aftermath of their encounter, still begging for his attention. She whispered his name again, her voice trembling with need, but there was no response. Only silence.

Smith stared up at the ceiling, the weight of her need pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. He had made her exactly as he wanted—perfect, dependent, always ready to be used. But now, as she clung to him, her soft pleas filling the quiet night air, he realized something else.

The perfection he had created was becoming his prison.
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