Carlos woke up with a start, his head still heavy. The first thing he felt was a constant buzzing and a deep, rhythmic, wet penetration between his legs. He tried to move and realized in horror that he was completely restrained: wrists and ankles bound with thick black straps, legs spread wide apart. His new large breasts pressed against the mattress as his back arched.
“What… what the fuck is this?” he moaned in a high, feminine voice that sent a chill down his spine.
Sitting comfortably in a chair in front of the bed was Víctor, watching him with a dark, satisfied smile.
“Good morning, Carla,” he said in a calm, mocking tone. “Yes, you’re awake. Do you like my welcome gift?”
Carla pulled against the straps, panting as the thick dildo slid in and out of her soaked pussy.
“Víctor… what the hell did you do to me, you son of a bitch!? Let me go right now!”
Víctor let out a low laugh and leaned forward, clearly enjoying every moan.
“No. This is exactly what you deserve. For years you mocked me, humiliated me in front of all our friends, stole Laura from me like she was a trophy… and you always bragged about being a ‘sex machine.’ Well, take a good look — the only sex machine here is the one fucking you nonstop.”
He paused, smiling as he watched Carla bite her lip, trying to hold back a moan.
“When this is over, there won’t be a single trace left of that arrogant Carlos. Just a wet, trembling little slut addicted to cumming. And I’m going to sit here the entire time, recording every orgasm, every tear, and every time you beg me to stop… or to keep going. So don’t forget to smile for the camera.”
Carla threw her head back and let out a long, shameful moan. Her body betrayed her as another orgasm began to build. She couldn’t hold back the pleasure anymore, and a playful smile formed on her face.
One thing was clear: for Carla, this was going to be a very long night.
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