Models: Autumn Falls & Manuel Ferrera
Aaron didn’t so much walk back to his room as stagger. The culprit of unsteadiness could be identified by the metallic clatter of his rucksack, the smell of intoxication on his breath – or just the can of beer clutched in his hand. For every three steps forward he took at least one back, and given his disorientation he was relying heavily on instinct to guide him to his room.
Zigzagging along, Aaron muttered to himself in what he considered excellent imitations of the other members of the group. ‘You’re such a jerk, Aaron. You’re always drinking, Aaron. Who goes hiking with their rucksack packed like a mobile bar, Aaron? Fuckwits,’ he spat, lip curling in drunken disdain. ‘Should’ve known you’d just whine at me all day. Should’ve stayed here and done shots with Taylor.’
At this point Aaron couldn’t quite remember why he’d gone on the hike in the first place. Whatever the reason, he knew he wouldn’t be making that mistake again, because all he’d gained out of it was a bunch of earache and a host of bruises across his knees and shins marking his many stumbles.
Even in his state, Aaron was vaguely surprised when he actually arrived back at his room – Fantasy Manor’s corridors were difficult enough to navigate when sober, so to find his way back drunk was a small miracle. Unsurprisingly, this only inflated his ego even more.
When he had left that morning Taylor had still been practically comatose from the night before, and part of him expected to find his friend still snoring in bed. But the room was empty, so there was nobody present to see Aaron attempt to throw his rucksack full of empty cans (the other hikers had refused to let him toss them in the bushes) onto the nearby armchair, completely miss, and send it sailing through into the ensuite instead. The skittering of metal on tile made it clear he hadn’t closed the bag as well as he’d thought.
Making for the bed, Aaron staggered to a stop when he spotted the golden bikini spread out atop the covers. Then again, calling it a bikini was somewhat generous; in truth it was little more than a few small panels of materials connected by slim straps. For several seconds Aaron simply stared at it, dumbfounded.
Then he gave a laugh that came out as more of a belch. ‘Taylor, you sly son of a bitch. Getting laid while I’m out, were we? Bet you weren’t even really asleep this morning, just waiting for me to leave so you could call your slut over.’
Wondering to himself which of the girls his friend had lured into bed – and where they had gone to after she left her outfit here – Aaron’s mind conveniently ignored how deliberately placed the bikini was. How it didn’t look at all like it had been tugged off in a horny rush. How it seemed to have been laid out just for him.
But all of Aaron’s wondering was cut off when he snatched up the swimwear with the intention of tossing it onto Taylor’s bed.
The material was so soft and smooth to the touch he couldn’t help but stroke it, the urge striking him like a freight train the moment he picked it up. The shine was equally entrancing, the panels so flawless he could practically see his face in their golden reflection. Lifting them for a closer look he admired the mirror-like sheen for a few seconds. Before he knew it he was rubbing the panels against his face savouring their soothing feel.
Even if Aaron had been sober the influence of the bikini was so powerful he would have barely noticed himself falling under its spell. As it was, his senses were already so dulled by drink that he was utterly oblivious when the corruptive swimwear rapidly leeched away his intelligence.
Aaron’s IQ was drained with all the subtlety of a cannon fired at a brimming bathtub. As though a great hole had opened in his psyche his thoughts and memories roared out in a raging torrent that was over almost before it had begun, visible on his face as a brief frown of confusion followed by a blank expression. Left behind there were only tiny remnants of his persona, like lingering droplets still clinging to the bathtub walls.
As quickly as it had opened, the mental drain sealed again. A heartbeat later and Aaron’s mind began to fill up once more.
The influx of consciousness was slow at first: a steady drip-drip-drip of basic instincts. Nevertheless, as it continued a blissful smile spread over his lips while his fingers – which had fallen still when his brain emptied – now began stroking the material of the bikini again. Shortly afterwards a simple thought popped into his head.
‘I want to try it on,’ he said to himself. Without any inhibitions to stop him, Aaron didn’t hesitate to act on his new urge.
If Taylor had been in the room he would have probably ruptured an organ laughing at how ridiculous Aaron looked in the bikini. The bra dangled forlornly from his neck with the breast panels sagging badly, while in contrast the narrow front strip of the panties was stretched taut as it struggled to contain his genitals. What was more, against the flawless femininity of the bikini his dark body hair and muscles looked somehow pathetic.
Nevertheless, Aaron’s vapid smile didn’t falter. In fact, as he bounded giddily to admire himself in the mirror it only grew. And as his drained mind continue to fill up, the corruptive swimwear warped its new host into a more suitable form.
The inflation of his chest was slow but persistent. Before long the skin of his swelling breasts had lost all their body hair, leaving the expanding globes enticingly smooth as they gradually buried Aaron’s pecs under plump, soft flesh. Slowly but surely his new tits filled the slack bikini top, the material stretching taut over his bulbous rack.
Aaron’s crotch, meanwhile, was undergoing the exact opposite transformation. Well-hung as he was, it was nothing the influence of the bikini could not handle and already his junk had shrunk to half its original size. Like ice thrown in boiling water his size dwindled increasingly rapidly until it was gone altogether, the bikini briefs now flush to his groin with small fringes of short, dark pubic hair peeking around the sides.
Like venom spreading from a wound, the power of the bikini raced outwards from the points of contact to engulf his entire body. His abs faded into a toned stomach; his muscled legs softened into fleshy thighs and lean calves; his bulky arms became slim and effeminate; his ass inflated, his shoulders narrowed and every strand of body hair fell like wheat to an invisible scythe.
By now his tits had stretched the bikini top to the limit yet they still continued to grow. The excess mass spilled out of the sides with the bikini’s straps straining to contain the weight, all while the transformation rose to Aaron’s head.
Even as his lips plumped up, his eyes grew big and sultry, his rugged features softened into feminine lines – even as everything he was succumbed and morphed in front of him – Aaron’s vacant smile remained fixed in place. He didn’t panic as cascades of brown hair so dark they were almost black came swirling out of his head. Instead he simply ran freshly manicured fingers through the waves and frizzed them giddily.
Despite the gold of the bikini itself, Aaron’s new body was abruptly adorned with even more glittery accessories. A host of diamond-encrusted bangles appeared on one wrist, followed swiftly by matching stud earrings, navel piercing, and a necklace of interwoven rose gold bands. But far more striking was the intricate design of sparkling golden chains that formed around his waist. Descending from hip to knee they hung in twinkling arcs that added an edge of sophistication to his otherwise risqué attire.
Just as they had marked the start of his transformation, Aaron’s tits also signified the end of it. Having grown so immense that the bikini did almost nothing to contain them, there was at least a palm’s width of sideboob on both side of each breast panel, the warm light glowing softly on the sublime flesh as it swept up into flawless cleavage. The subtle jiggle they made with every movement was almost hypnotic.
Throughout his transformation, Aaron did not moan once. All he could do was watch with that same dumb smile as his body was robbed just as his mind had been. Then again, even at the beginning he hadn’t really been Aaron at all, just an empty vessel waiting to be filled.
Ironically, the woman who rose to replace him was no different.
When she came to her senses Autumn was, as always, desperate to fuck. Her pussy was slick, her loins burning, and her colossal tits ached with the need to be squeezed and slapped and sucked. The need to have a cock filling her holes was so crippling she could barely stand up.
Without even really knowing where she was going, Autumn abandoned her room in search of somebody to satisfy her. In the back of her mind hazy memories began to take shape – images of a handsome man in a sleek suit; his hands on her body, his lips on her cunt, his dick in her throat – but they were blurry and fleeting, like silhouettes in fog. Even so, she was filled with the urge to find him.
Padding barefoot through the halls, her arousal was only made worse by the shrieks and cries of orgasmic ecstasy that echoed all around her.
When she came to a marble staircase her attention was distracted by something new. The light of a fire played over the tiles at the foot of the stairs, spilling out from a darkened room off to one side.
Drawn in, Autumn silently descended the steps, her massive tits bobbing as she went…
Maria was regretting not going straight to her room.
After the hike she’d been convinced her feet were about to fall off, prompting her to find somewhere to rest for a moment rather than tackling the stairs. However, finding one of the manor’s lounges empty and with the fire already lit, she had slumped down into an armchair that she now couldn’t muster the energy to leave. The fire’s warmth was starting to make her eyes heavy and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she dozed off.
Her thoughts beginning to drift while she watched the flames dancing in the hearth, Maria smiled as she thought back on the hike: the incredible views, the refreshing mountain air, the good company.
But that smile turned to a scowl as Aaron’s drunken face filled her mind’s eye.
Familiar revulsion bubbled in Maria’s chest. On the whole she considered herself a tolerant woman, but Aaron had long since burned through all her goodwill to the point that every minute in his presence was a fight for her not to scream in his face. She had mostly managed to avoid him during the hike, but she’d still had to bite her tongue as he engaged in his three main vices: drinking, ogling, and hitting on girls.
The flavour of the day today had been Andi. Not that his advances had gone anywhere – Andi had mostly just laughed at him. In fact, she had taken great delight in listing all the reasons her boyfriend Vince made a better partner than Aaron ever could.
Yet while Andi could handle herself, Maria had found herself feeling sorry for Jessie. She and Aaron had barely been broken up for a month and already he was trying to score a new hookup – and one of Jessie’s friends at that. Though grateful that Jessie had opted to stay at the manor, Aaron’s callous disregard for her emotions had still set Maria’s rage roiling and it seemed it hadn’t settled down just yet.
Being in her late-thirties, Maria had at least ten years on most of the group. She didn’t envy their youth. In fact, she often found that the age gap stirred up vaguely maternal feelings, particularly for the more impressionable members of the group. And while she tried not to intervene – they were all adults after all – that didn’t stop her wanting to teach jerks like Aaron a lesson.
With a weary sigh, Maria finally heaved herself out of the armchair. She wasn’t sure what had drained her more, the walking or the seething, but either way she was ready for a drink.
It was only when she turned to leave that Maria noticed the sleek black blazer draped over the back of the adjacent sofa. She hadn’t spotted it when she came in, though given that the large room was only illuminated by the flickering light of the fireplace that wasn’t surprising. Besides, although Maria couldn’t remember anybody mentioning plans for a cosplay involving a suit, she had long since grown used to finding random clothing in unexpected places, so it didn’t strike her as unusual.
Picking up the blazer Maria ran the material between her fingers. It felt expensive.
A thoughtful expression crossed her face as she considered the serendipitous discovery. Over the years she had often considered doing various gender-bent cosplays of different suit-clad characters – from James Bond to Agent Smith to the Men in Black – but she had never gone ahead with any of them for fear of being unable to pull off the suited look. But now one of her friends had conveniently left their suit lying around it seemed foolish to pass up the chance to try it on. Perhaps once Maria found out who it belonged to they might even let her borrow it in future.
Slipping into it, Maria found the blazer to be several sizes too big. Still, by reaching back to collect the excess material in one hand behind her and taking a deep breath in to expand her chest and fill the shoulders as best she could, she could definitely see potential in the look. Unfortunately there was no mirror in the room so – trying to maintain her inflated posture as she moved – Maria turned to leave in search of one.
Before she could take a step, however, the breath she was holding burst free in the form of a sudden gasp spurred on by an unexpected rush of pleasure.
Catching her breath Maria realised her arms were tingling. Intense, intoxicating power pulsed through her muscles like electricity through water, and when she looked down she noticed that she was gripping the back of the armchair so hard the frame was creaking. But it was the appearance of her hands that really stunned: broad, thick-fingered and adorned with dark hair across the back, they were now very clearly masculine.
Despite her confusion, the thrill of power was like a drug and Maria immediately wanted more. Luckily for her, the suit was happy to oblige.
As her body began to expand Maria’s voice grew gruff. ‘Yes. Oh yes. Give me more.’
Her arms were the first to bulk up, thick bands of muscle overlaying one another until the material of the blazer was stretched tight around biceps like truck tyres. As they swelled they also spread, her shoulders widening by nearly half their existing width to fill the suit without any assistance, all while her torso likewise bubbled with new strength.
Maria’s physique was almost entirely average – neither overweight nor skinny, neither stacked nor flat-chested – yet her transition to masculinity was moulding her into something extraordinary. Her tits sank and flattened into a broad barrel chest; her legs thickened until they resembled the marble limbs of sculptures depicting Greek gods; and all over invasive masculinity expanded her frame with new muscle, from feet to neck and jaw to ankles. The world shifted around her as her continued growth raised her height by several inches, and when she staggered a little from the disorientation her foot felt like a boulder crashing to the ground.
While her body took shape, her features likewise morphed to suit her gravelly tones. A dense black beard sprouted rapidly even before her jaw had fully reformed, rising to coat her upper lip in a moustache and joining hair that was now trimmed short at the sides via neat sideburns. Although most of Maria’s blonde bob was shaved away, a little survived on the top where it rose like an obsidian wave to jut out above a wide brow, which itself overshadowed eyes as deep and soulful and experienced as the gods her body now resembled. It was clear from the lines fringing her eyes and the flecks of grey in her hair that her new body had roughly ten years on her old one, yet somehow that only made her more attractive, drawing an aura of sinful experience around her like a cloak.
The burning power of her new body was so thrilling Maria barely even felt the emergence of her cock. Even so, like everything else it filled out the crotch of her trousers until the stitching threatened to split. Fortunately her attire had transformed to accommodate her new physique. Her pale pink t-shirt and spandex shorts were gone now, replaced by a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and sleek black trousers that matched her blazer and were held up by a thick belt.
As her transformation faded, Maria felt her mind fading with it. In her state of strength-fuelled euphoria, however, she didn’t panic. On the contrary, she welcomed the masculine persona that rose to replace her and happily allowed him to engulf her, sinking into his subconscious without the slightest resistance.
‘Babyyyyy, I’ve been waiting for you in bed.’
Manuel turned to find Autumn framed in the doorway looking like a goddess made corporeal. Her glorious body was wrapped in dazzling gold, very little of which went towards covering her modesty – in fact, perhaps the largest thing she was wearing was her wide-eyed pout.
‘Sorry, beautiful, I lost track of time,’ he said, making no attempt to avert his gaze from her sumptuous tits. ‘You know, when I said you should go upstairs and slip into something more comfortable, this wasn’t what I expected.’
Autumn absently twirled a strand of hair as she smiled. ‘If you don’t like it, I can always take it off.’
Manuel raised an eyebrow and matched her fiendish smirk. ‘I never said I didn’t like it, princess. But just to be sure, maybe we should head to bed so I can get a closer look.’
‘I’m sorry to say that bra just didn’t suit you at all, baby.’
Manuel’s words were low and edged with hunger as he massaged oil into Autumn’s bare tits. Her bra was now dangling from the light above them, occasionally sending flares of gold across the walls when it caught the light. It had barely lasted thirty seconds after they arrived in the bedroom before Manuel removed it.
Given that Autumn had pounced on him the moment they had crested the staircase – leaping into his arms, coiling her legs around his waist and kissing him passionately – Manuel’s view of the corridors had been blocked by her pretty face. But the lack of vision hadn’t posed an issue; he’d had so much experience carrying her to bed that it was now second nature to memorise the path back to their room anytime they visited somewhere new. Nevertheless, any distraction from the bombshell in his arms was an unwelcome one and by the time he threw her down on the bed he’d been desperate to grope her voluptuous body.
Now, while he continued to manhandle her rack, Autumn leaned forward to take the decanter of oil and pour a fresh dose over her bosom.
‘I’ll remember that for next time,’ she purred, her voice soft and breathy as the oil glided over her clavicles and across her breasts, where it was fastidiously rubbed in by her man’s strong hand. ‘A good girl should never wear things her Daddy doesn’t like. In fact, maybe I should I get rid of all my bras. What do you think, Sir?’
They were so close that Manuel could feel the warmth of her brow on his own and smell the sweet aroma of her strawberry-scented lip gloss. ‘I think that sounds like an excellent idea. Nothing should restrain these perfect tits.’
As Autumn pressed her chest harder into Manuel’s grasp she caused her navel piercing to catch the light. The bright twinkle drew his gaze down. Like her tits the skin of her stomach was slick and glistening where some of the oil had slid down her cleavage. Even now it was still descending, trickling over the soft expanse of her midriff towards her golden underwear.
A devious expression warped Manuel’s handsome face. ‘Come to think of it, why stop with just your bras, princess? Because now I think about it, I’m not sure those panties suit you either.’
Easing Autumn onto her back as he did so, Manuel sank to his knees beside the bed. He released her only briefly to tug off his blazer, but his hands were back on her again before she even noticed they were gone. But this time they closed around her waist rather than her tits, his confident fingers making short work of the golden bows crowning her hips. Autumn’s underwear slipped away revealing her flushed pussy.
Manuel was eating her out before her panties hit the floor.
Flooded with pleasure, Autumn’s head fell back with eyes rolling as a sensual groan bubbled on her lips. ‘Oh god… that feels… yes… can’t take… need more… thank you Sir…’ Her speech was fractured and disjointed, like reflections in a smashed mirror, and in an attempt to channel her arousal her hands rose to grope her tits even more feverishly than Manuel had.
Below, Manuel gripped Autumn’s thighs as he buried his face in her loins. His agile tongue worked her pussy with ease, years of experience having honed his skills to the point that he acted more on instinct than intention. Like a predator stalking prey through dense jungle he was alert to every sound she made, each gasp and moan and whimper guiding his pace and rhythm.
Using her own cries as a weapon against her, Manuel kept Autumn in a permanent state of ecstasy. Constantly varying the speed, depth and direction of his dancing tongue, he never maintained the same motion long enough for her to get used to it, forcing her instead to remain constantly on edge, never quite knowing what he would do next. This anticipation only intensified her arousal and soon she was shuddering all over.
But of course, that was exactly what Manuel wanted.
Even with Autumn’s incredible body at his mercy, the power to teach her a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget was the most intoxicating thrill of all. He wanted to manipulate her body, mess with her mind, reduce her to a set of holes desperate to serve him. In truth, he didn’t even really understand why; he’d never experienced these urges with any woman before Autumn, yet from the moment they met Manuel had been compelled to objectify her, dehumanise her, as if some part of him felt that she deserved to be punished. But in the end the reason why was irrelevant, because whether she deserved it or not Autumn was just as eager to be used as a living sex toy as he was to use her – maybe even more so.
As such, it was no surprise that even as her body trembled with more orgasmia than she could process, she soon started gasping for more.
And more was something that Manuel would never deny his little nympho.
Eating Autumn out always made Manuel hard and tonight was no exception. When he reached down to undo his belt the crotch of his trousers was tented, the stitching struggling valiantly to contain his immense manhood. He could almost hear a sigh of relief as they fell to the floor, finally relieved of their burden.
Rising to his feet, he caught one of Autumn’s ankles as he ascended and folded it back against her heaving chest, while his free hand clasped one of her golden heels and used the leverage to spread her twinkling sex wide. The once-elegant golden chains were now bunched around her midriff, jangling lightly as he shifted her into position.
Despite the urge to pound her until she screamed, Manuel waited patiently for her eyes to stop rolling and her senses to return. Then, just as she peered up at him, he threw her back into a spiral of orgasmia once more.
Autumn’s perfect pussy moulded around Manuel’s cock like a sheath. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought her cunt had been tailored specifically for his dick.
He watched her expression shift from surprise, to bliss, to uncertain desire as if she wasn’t sure how much more she could take, and all the while he fed himself in further, inch after inch until she had taken him all the way to the base.
When she gathered herself enough to meet his eyes, her gaze was distant as bliss threatened to overwhelm her. ‘This is where you belong, Sir: buried in my tight pussy.’
‘Well that’s lucky,’ Manuel smirked. ‘Because your place will always be impaled on my big cock, moaning like a brainless bimbo.’ Leaning in, a devilish edge stole across his face. ‘Here, let me help you with that second part.’
And with that he began to thrust hard and deep and savage.
Ever since their first night together, Manuel had known he would never be able to give Autumn up. The thrill of watching her voluptuous body rolling and jiggling as he pounded her slutty holes, all while she begged for him to degrade her, was an addiction that bored right down to his soul.
Of course, their relationship didn’t involve anything that even resembled love. Instead they both knew the bond they shared was driven purely by lust and self-interest: an arrangement of depravity that served their selfish needs. What was more, they also knew they were shamelessly fulfilling the stereotypes society placed on them: Manuel the late-forties CEO eager for younger pussy, and Autumn the early-twenties gold-digging secretary who was happy to provide it.
And yet there was something deeper there too. A kind of connection that went beyond simple selfishness and touched on a more animal part of their psyche. Manuel had never met anyone more desperate for dehumanisation, a trait which in turn drew out all the cruel things inside him. It was undeniably strange to have a lover whose presence alone made him want to hatefuck her holes – yet that only made it all the hotter when she not only allowed him to do so, but actually pleaded for it.
Right now, however, Autumn didn’t have the mental capacity to plead. She could only writhe and moan, her sumptuous body undulating as her back arched and fell with every powerful thrust he made. She had slumped back on the covers, her arms hands scrabbling at the sheets while delirious giggles danced on her lips.
Manuel had seen her in this state countless times before – and he knew just how to exploit it.
When Manuel pulled out it felt like Autumn’s world had stopped spinning. Her pleasure-fogged thoughts crashed into one another in a horny jumble that took her some time to untangle, all while the void his cock had left behind ate away at her insides.
By the time she was finally lucid she found her man reclining on the bed beside her, his crisp white shirt abandoned on the floor and his massive cock jutting up towards the ceiling. He simply lay there, waiting, a devious twinkle in his eye.
The shuddering laugh that escaped her lips when she sank down onto his rod was tinged with erotic mania. With her knees planted beside his wide hips she had no choice but to take him balls deep, the position allowing his cock to press against her G-spot so consistently she immediately saw stars. Fresh waves of pleasure washed through her as his powerful hands seized her body – one on her ass, one around a single huge tit – and then she was rocking. Just as Manuel had been when eating her out, Autumn was driven purely by instinct and even if she had wanted to she knew she couldn’t have stopped.
‘Fuck, Daddy, I don’t know how I ever lived without this. Your cock completes me. I feel so empty without you in me.’
Pulling back from her tit, which he had been sucking hungrily, Manuel left a glistening patch of saliva around her areola.
‘That’s right, princess. You’re just a slave to your lust, and all you lust for is me. You live to be my cumdump. And since I know there’s not much in that ditzy head of yours, I’ll make sure to remind you where you belong every single night.’
A blissful smile spread over Autumn’s lips as he thrust up into her, the slap of their colliding flesh bouncing around the room. ‘Thank you, Sir. I think you’re right: it would be better for me to go without panties from now on.’
‘Of course I’m right, beautiful. But what do you mean ‘you think’? Pretty bimbos like you don’t think. Pretty bimbos only moan. Do you want me to fuck all those silly thoughts out, baby?’
Autumn’s expression was almost agonised as she nodded, her arousal so intense it felt like it was about to tear her apart at the seams. ‘Yes, Daddy, fuck my brains out. Make me your brainless bimbo. I need it. I need to be your stupid nympho.’
‘What’s the magic word?’ Manuel smirked.
The word came out as the desperate cry of a woman on the verge of insanity. ‘Please! Please, please, please, please, please!’
Manuel’s hand moved faster than Autumn could process. One moment she was hunched over his chest, the next he had forced her upright with his hand around her throat and his thick cock hammering up into her hard. Euphoria swamped her thoughts as she reached back to grip his thighs, her entire body rippling with each devastating thrust. Her mouth fell open as if to howl, but no sound came out as her shriek became tangled in a web of pleasure.
A cold grin spread over his handsome face as he watched her descend into mindless ecstasy. The jangling of the chains around her waist rang out like a death knell for her intelligence, all conscious thought trickling away as she accepted her role as his living sex toy.
But that initial barrage of pleasure was only the beginning.
Slowly but surely, Autumn devolved into something less than human. As rational thought abandoned her she was reduced to a puppet for Manuel to control – a drone who obeyed orders without question. When he told her to ride him she did so until she drooled; when he pressed her facedown into the bedsheets she did not resist; when he spanked her ass and tits hard enough to leave stinging red marks she wore a vacant grin. She was so drunk on lust that even her own orgasms barely registered – she would simply watch in wonder as she squirted across the duvet, the endless pleasure so far beyond her capacity to process she simply giggled and allowed her man to continue using her eager holes.
It was only when Manuel reduced his brutally hot pace that slivers of reality seeped back into Autumn’s mind – though even then her limp body and nymphomaniacal giggles made it clear that she was severely cockdumb.
‘Isn’t this better, beautiful?’ Manuel grunted. ‘Doesn’t it feel good now I’ve fucked all those silly thoughts away?’
Autumn was kneeling on the edge of the bed, her hips juddering as Manuel took her from behind. Her tits bounced wildly with each thrust and before he slowed down the clap of his crotch against her ass had been like a round of applause echoing off the walls. Though the speed of his fucking had reduced he was still invading her just as deep and Autumn’s eyelids fluttered as he drove against her G-spot.
‘Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.’
Manuel had one hand around her neck to keep her from slumping to the bed. Using that grasp he tilted her head back so he could kiss her brow. ‘Now tell me, what do you think I should do to you next?’
Autumn’s reply was automatic, as if she was reciting a mantra. ‘Pretty bimbos don’t think, Daddy. Pretty bimbos only moan.’
‘That’s the right answer,’ he growled, his wicked grin audible as a sinister edge to his tone. ‘And I promise you this is how you’re going to spend the whole week: dumb, drooling and desperate for my dick.’
‘All my holes are yours, Sir.’
Manuel’s pace slowed even further as a new thought occurred to him. ‘Of course they are. And they always will be. Which reminds me – you haven’t put your pretty lips to use yet tonight. I think it’s time we fix that.’
As he had spoken, Manuel had picked his trousers up from the floor. Now he slid the belt free and used it to lash Autumn’s wrists together behind her back. As expected, she made no attempt to resist the bondage, nor did she respond when he pulled out of her tight cunt, span her around and pushed her face down to the level of his crotch.
Guided by the slutty instincts Manuel had bred into her over many long, deviant nights, she opened her mouth wide with her tongue held out.
Grinning down at his living fleshlight, Manuel ran a hand affectionately through her glossy hair. ‘Good girl.’
In the next heartbeat his caring grasp tangled tightly in her hair, his immense cock invaded her soft lips, and Autumn’s eyes rolled once more as Manuel buried his manhood down her hot, wet, hungry throat…
Thanks for reading!
I mentioned in my comments to chapter 2 that Jay Smooth showed up in two stories in this series. And in this case Manuel Ferrera is also another model who has shown up in a previous Fantasy Universe story – specifically chapter 1 of Fantasy Resort, Inner Desires. In that his character’s name was Mateo, as it was written before I started using the forenames of the male models as the forenames of their characters, and in the end the pre-transformation version of his character, Marcus, left as himself and packed Mateo’s persona to take with him upon leaving Fantasy Resort.
When I came to source galleries for a story focused on Autumn Falls there were plenty of good options, but this one really blew me away. At first I wasn’t going to use it due to the repeat of a male model, but in the end it appealed to me way more than the others and I decided it was ultimately worth it. Part of the reason for that is that I kind of like the idea that unless somebody explicitly leaves as a transformed persona then that body is thrown back into the mix as it were for others to experience. I also like the idea that the same body can crop up in different locations because to me it implies the body is chosen to suit the needs of the transformed person, even if it means repeating a body already used for somebody else. Ultimately these are just excuses for me to justify reusing him, but I like them nonetheless.
As I’ve stated before, sooner or later it becomes inevitable that there will be some crossover of male models between scenes purely due to the fact that there are distinctly fewer men than women in the industry. For me it’s just something I like to try and justify where I can given that I am very invested in maintaining the continuity of my Fantasy Universe stories wherever possible. I will say at this point that if I ever do another series like this I do have plans to set it in a location where it makes sense for familiar faces to pop up, but I’ll explain that more if those stories ever materialise.
Image galleries: https://www.mypornstarbook.net/pornstars/a/autumn_falls/gallery47/index.php
https://www.yespornpics.com/sex/brazzersnetwork-autumn-falls-hdgirls-missionary-erotic-mmf
