Tamara - The Case Of The (corrupted) Suits (13-B) (Patreon)
Content
(image update)
IMPORTANT NOTE: Everything that appears here, in this story, only exists in my mind, anything that resembles reality or other stories, is coincidence or fortuitous. . .
( hopefully there will be many of these 💓, or not, who knows 😭 )
Tamara - The Case Of The Corrupted Suits - Chapter 2
(Damn! Where Is The Zipper? - Movimento 3)
Part 13-B
"From today on I don't want to be the Tamara I was." she said without stopping jerking Sam's member as she positioned herself on top of him. "I want to live, I want to enjoy, I want the pleasures I denied myself by focusing on my career. And. . . now I want to fuck you and for you to fuck me. But, above all, from today I want you to see me, as one of those uncontrollable sluts who only wear latex and if you give me that, I'll let you cum inside me. . . OK?"
Sam made a double moan of acceptance and nodded his head, "Yes", he mumbled into his gag.
Tamara then let out a long "AaaaH!" as she herself began to lower her body onto Sam's hard cock. She knew then that the suit had done much more than just change her outward physical appearance, it had also reshaped her on the inside. Her pussy was now tighter and much more lubricated, than when she had been a teenage virgin.
"Fuck! Sam. . ." she moaned as just the tip of the head began to slide inside her with some resistance from her pussy. "You have it so fat. . ."
"Holy fucking shit. . ." Sam thought, as ununderstandable sounds came out of his mouth. "How tight your pussy is. . . and how hot and wet it is. . ."
Tamara's hips moved slowly down and back upwards. Greedily pleasuring every inch, every vein, and the additive contact of the head of his cock reaching deep inside her. With each thrust of her hips and each thrust of Sam's pelvis, Tamara lost a few months of her personal memory. And every time she lost some of her past, the better each thrust of Sam's cock felt. . .
The suit had already begun to mold Tamara's body. Now, like a parasitic black web, the suit invaded her insides, spreading like a fungus. Her entire body was restructured, as an invasive tissue began to tangle up her spine and organs, moving up to her brain. Changing the chemistry of her human and mortal nature.
At the same time, her silhouette and physique also began to change even more. It began to shrink her body in certain areas, and expand others.
"Oh fuck! I'm yours!" Tamara began to scream. "Fuck yes. I'M YOURS!"
Sam caught up in his false happiness, thought she was referring to him, but it couldn't be further from the truth. Excited by the moans and cries of his love, he began to try to pound her harder and faster. In a rush of excitement, omitting all certain suspicions that Tamara had succumbed, he began to move his pelvis at a wild pace.
"His heart is already yours," she heard the Voice inside her. "Break it! Sacrifice it! Prove that you want to be your Mistress's weapon!"
Tamara continued to ride Sam's cock, letting him fill and empty her again and again, as more moans and screams came from her mouth. Her ever-younger face began to paint a face somewhere between bliss and ecstasy. Tamara's mind was now almost empty of her memories, only her knowledge remained intact. She had only a few scattered memories left from her last years. . . all of them with Sam.
Now the suit made her remember again what had happened in the warehouse, the pleasure she had felt, how connected she had felt to something that now gave new meaning to her being, the promises made to her. . . Now Tamara understood why. She understood the reason why all the victims no longer wanted to part with their suits.
Now her hand was filled with the hilt of a Ritual Dagger and from her eyes two tears began to escape. Meanwhile Sam's blindfold had slipped.
It was then that the hips of both began to accelerate frantically. Tamara let herself be impaled harder on Sam's cock. And her mate tried to plunge his cock harder and harder into her as the first spasms announced what was coming next. At the same time Sam's grunts became more aggressive, as he looked into her vicious eyes. And it was just at that moment, when their gaze met, that they both climaxed.
Tamara screamed madly with pleasure. She had never felt so much pleasure in her life, let alone when she felt Sam's cock explode inside her. Her spine arched as her hips pushed her harder into Sam, driving his cock even deeper into her. And then a new whisper echoed inside her head, this time it wasn't the suit, this time it was the Voice of her Mistress.
"Yes my Mistress. . . your new slave will be your Weapon," Tamara said taking advantage of the moment and then raising the dagger she had been hiding in the bed.
Sam's eyes widened, and in a movement that his gaze had trouble following, Tamara, using both hands and all her strength, plunged the eight inch blade into his heart. From the wound in Sam's chest, two spurts of blood came out, splashing over Tamara's suit, which it greedily absorbed.
In the grunt of pain, Sam's jaw clamped down so hard that the rubber gag in his mouth split into three pieces. Tamara released one of her hands to cover his mouth, while twisting the knife to make the injury even worse.
"I love you Sam," she said with teary eyes, but with a crazy smile, while continuing to twist the dagger as the material of the suit began to cover her whole head.
"But now I am a slave of my Mistress. . . like my new sisters you have locked up. . . I will stop being Tamara to be like them. . . I can be young and horny forever. . . No past, no future. . . just wanting to please the whims of our Queen. And for her, my sisters and me, we will finish off all of you. . . Because she has ordered it!" the Creature that had been Tamara said to the mortally wounded Sam.
When she finished telling him that, the black viscous substance began to devour her face leaving only her eyes visible. Which did not stop looking down at Sam with tears as the life in his eyes was slowly being extinguished. And while Sam's body still clung to life with a fury, strangely still making her frown, but with each moment a little less, she did not move. Watching curiously. . .
Wondering who her victim was and why she had feelings for him.
To be continued. . . or who knows... 🤫