WWT: Finding Rachel 9

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My heels tapped under the desk, fidgeting uncomfortably, my pussy squirming with desire as I waited for the creature to begin our morning routine. God, I’d even stayed awake thinking about it, needing to touch myself just to settle into sleep. I could barely look at the girl, pale and jittering, like a lost baby-faced lamb as she filled out the forms with trembling hands. The dark-haired beauty wore this flowery sun-dress, adorable but the neckline gaped open, not leaving much to the imagination. And yet, there was an innocence to her. Her dark eyes seemed to float, unsettled and yet serene. The girl projected a strange sense of calm, even as she spoke strange sentences that barely made any sense.I hated myself for what I was about to do to her. On the surface, so much seemed better than ever in the country. But underneath, every smile was a stifled shared reality. The aliens were here, using most of us to fulfill strange sexual perversion, slithering inside every hole with massive dick-shaped phalluses of every shape and size. Only it wasn’t like the movies. The news, the people, the women, all of us shared only in subtle glances. There were clues, a rumpled güvenilir bahis outfit, and the dead giveaways. Like the girl yesterday rushing to her car with cum still dripping down her legs, leaving little puddles with each step. We averted our eyes, somehow unable to speak as the tentacles drew us nearer, claiming more and more. It was so shameful, not that we had been taken, but how each of us enjoyed it. How readily we submitted, twisted to the will of these monstrous abominations, cum drunk and depraved enough to collaborate as the inhuman cocks quietly enslave our race. There must be still girls out there, ones who had not been claimed by the creature. Our new boss, Heather De Goth, said as much in subtle hints about our expectations. Workforce agencies like ours had arranged so many jobs, each of them undoubtedly infiltrated by different aliens like the one now touching my leg from under the desk. Because I had to remain perfectly calm and help satisfy the alien’s desire for fresh victims…The tentacle moved in between my legs, driving up into my pussy with a practiced motion. I bit my lip, having done this a hundred times with as many beautiful young girls, güvenilir bahis siteleri looking them in the eyes as I signed the paper that sealed their fate. At best, they would be used like me, fucked discreetly so as to let the shame remain secret. Pretend like my husband that nothing was really happening, ignoring the alien cum that sometimes still gushed out of me after a day of being ravaged. He still fucked me, but always my mind drifted back to the day, and how far I’d fallen.The tentacles would keep me at the brink of climax, forcing me to look into the eyes of the girl and conceal my orgasm. Day after day, I sold souls in exchange for extraterrestrial-inspired ecstasy until I no longer really regretted it. Every emotion should have been drained, as though feeding an insatiable beast. But there was something about this girl that brought back every bad feeling. And I’m certain that the strain of guilt showed on my face as my hips rocked in my chair, unable to stop my knee from banging up against the hardwood as another tentacle entered my ass. Reality had changed. Maybe had I become callous from the few scattered details I’d received from iddaa siteleri a few friends. The things were everywhere, insidious and insatiable for our bodies, letting us stumble into them anywhere. At the Korean Spa, the tentacles came up from under the water, holding girls against the jet streams. After a day at the gym, they might be waiting in the showers or out in an alley.  Another friend talked suspiciously about the need to shower after a trip to the Vineyard. And there were things I heard about the jobs…In the libraries, spider-like tentacles wove webs of cum, sealing shut the holes of its females until it desired them. At bars, the dick-shaped bulbs poured out from holes in the stools and tables, pumping hundreds full of cum in orgies that lasted from opening to close. I’d assigned girls to each, conditioned now to climax at the thought of our shared fate. I consoled myself, knowing that no matter how the tentacle monsters found us, we always came back, desperate and needy. I had to assign girls like the one in front of me to the fields, miles and miles of sprawling tentacles, twisting and turning inside of women nearly ruined from repeated orgasms. Of course, I had only heard the rumors, women clustered together in almost a nest, naked bodies writhing together as they climaxed again and again into nothingness. And I knew as I signed the form where this unskilled, unidentified girl would go…

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