Erotic short fiction: Girl, Modified, Part 6


His wife’s screams still echoed in Eli’s mind, as he sat next to Rafael in the auction room. He could still taste her on his lips; the sweet, tart fluid of her pleasure left an indelible shadow coating his mouth, as he remembered watching her gag as she came.  


The other parts of this story can be found here.


 His wife came as she gagged on Rafael’s cock.  

He had watched her throat bulge, as he licked her swollen clit.  He watched her whole body tense, convulse, and contract against his tongue.  There was something insidious about that thought – he knew that she of course got off on his gentle sucking and tonguing, but Rafeal’s words made a seed of doubt blossom.  Even now, and he sat in the darkened room next to his partner, some tension in his shoulders evaporated as he replayed the words.

“Ready to cum, Tori?” Rafael had chided.  “How do we cum, darling?” 

The pet name made Eli clench his teeth, even now.  

“Please, Rafael…” she had begged, in between long strokes of his cock down her throat.  “Please…” 

“Tell us how you cum, Tori.”  

Her back had arched in pleasure, as he slid all the way in, and held her there. It was only when she began to struggle in earnest, as Eli licked her leaking slit, that he let her breathe.  “With your cock down my throat, Sir,” she said, in between big, gulping breaths.  

Rafael had made soothing noises, running his hands through her dark hair.  “That’s right, darling.  You cum only with my cock deep in your throat.” He had looked at Eli as he said it, like the weight of the words themselves would shift the fabric of reality.

Eli shivered, now, remembering it. He remembered how she climaxed on the next stroke.  

Rafael had been right.  

Of course he was right.  There was some pain in his mind, some discordance, as his thoughts and Rafael’s words superimposed over each other.  Eli rubbed his temples as Rafael’s words solidified and became real.  

How could Eli argue with the taste of his wife’s cum in his mouth?  

There would be no argument.  Another drop of tension flowed out of Eli’s body.  

No argument.

His wife cums with Rafael’s cock down her throat. 

The air buzzed around him, and seemed heavier, suddenly.  Words, reality, thoughts – the superimposition melded itself into Eli’s synapses, and his own thought dissolved under the power of Rafael’s words and the drug still coursing through his veins.  

His wife cums with Rafael’s cock down her throat.

That was true.  That was reality.  The buzzing stopped, and Eli’s mind settled into a calm, agreeable lull.  

The only real light in the room was over the empty stage in the middle of the room, though in the dimness Eli could see the crowd of men gathered.  Some sat, as he and Rafael had, and some moved in between the groups engaged in quiet small talk, the clink of ice cubes against highball glasses becoming an almost-sinister background din.  Some of the men already had slaves leashed to their sides, either sitting patiently or pleasuring their owners in various states of undress.  

Rafael handed Eli the bidding paddle, then sat back and crossed his legs.  

“Why are we here?” Eli asked.  They had never attended one of the auctions before, only provided the cunts to be sold.  Of course he was aware of what went on here, but never had he felt it necessary to see in person.  

Eli was in no position to be buying anything.  Rafael had to know that – didn’t he?

His partner turned his head, as a cruel smile crawled across his face. 

He knew.  Of course he knew.  “Did you enjoy the taste of your wife’s pretty little cunt?” 

The way he said it sent a new wave of pain splashing through Eli’s heart.  He made a small, unintelligible noise, and the smile on Rafael’s face widened.  

“You’re so easy,” he said.  “I’d ask if you were always this weak-willed, but I think we both know the answer to that question, don’t we?” 

Superimposed thoughts, until there was just a singular thought wave.

The lights dimmed, and the rest of the men found their seats.  The auctioneer led Eli’s tenth specimen crawling to the center of the stage by a pink leash, connected to a matching collar around her neck.

The girl’s outrageously large tits swung lewdly with each fall of her hands and knees.  Her eyes were glazed, pupils so wide it nearly drowned out the blue that Eli knew was there.  

He had spent considerable time making those eyes look up at him, as she swallowed his cock.

The memory of it now, knowing what had been happening to his wife, sent a pang of guilt lancing through his body.  And yet… the warm sucking wetness of her mouth had been delicious.  

Her bee-stung lips parted as she fell back on her heels, her head cocked to one side.  Each lazy blink looked like it took a tremendous effort.  

Eli wondered idly about what was going on in that brain of hers.  

Not much.  

The auctioneer cuffed her hands together and brought them over her head, pulling her up and stretching her body taut, leaving no part of the mens’ imagination.  Eli looked at the swell of her breasts, the unnatural thinness of her waist.  He could have counted her ribs, and he knew he would have found two missing.  Her hips ballooned from her tiny middle in a graceful curve, and he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at this thing he created with his scalpel.  Every piece of her body was perfect, a feast for a man’s eyes.

But it was really Rafael’s drug that made her flawless.  She had been fed that insidious cocktail since the day she had arrived in their care, and the emptiness in her eyes showed.  There were no thoughts in her mind, only the ever-present ache in her body, the desperation to be filled with cock.  The drug had permanently erased her memory, and she would be a mindless fuck doll forever.  

The bidding started like any other auction, but even Eli was shocked at how quickly the price climbed.  The auctioneer continued to goad the men, enticing them with every depraved service that their potential new property could provide.  

Suck doll.  Fuck puppet.  Cock warmer.  Piss pot.  Punching bag.  Sex kitten.  Pimped whore. 

The bids poured in, the price soared.  

Rafael leaned toward Eli.  “Bid on her.” 

Eli turned toward him.  “You know I don’t have that kind of money.” 

“Bid.  On.  Her.”  His partner’s dark eyes bored into him.

Eli fought the urge to lift the paddle.  He clenched his eyes shut; he knew – knew – that he couldn’t pay the price.  And besides, he had a wife.

Maybe.  The edges of that thought, hurt.  

Rafael’s voice came soothing into his ear.  “Don’t worry, I’ll cover you.  She’s yours, Eli.  Go buy her.” 

She’s yours.  Those words rattled through his brain.  The more they bounced around that desolate space, the more true they felt.  There was something behind the words, some warning, some red flag that he knew he should be paying attention to, but it was like he couldn’t hear it over the staggering rightness of Rafael’s words. 

Eli lifted his paddle and heard his voice ring out through the room.  He doubled the asking price. 

The auctioneer paused, and the silence for that long second was almost suffocating.  It was like a record scratch, and it took a moment for him to process what Eli had just done.  When he began his spiel again, it was slower, almost a little unsure.  

There were no more bids, despite the auctioneer’s efforts.  “Going once…”

Beside him, Rafael started to laugh, a deep, sadistic chuckle.  

“Going twice…”

His partner’s laughter raised the hairs on his arms, and Eli wondered if it had always done that.  

“And… sold to the good doctor Tyler.  She is some of your best work, I don’t blame you for wanting to keep her.  Doctor, please come to the payment booth to complete the transaction.”  The auctioneer turned to the rest of the audience.  “Thank you for your time tonight, gentleman, and we hope to see you here for the next piece of fuck meat.” 

Rafael clapped Eli on the shoulder.  “Good work, my man.  Now, let’s go get your prize, yes?” 

He walked in a daze to the smiling woman in the corner of the room, matching Rafael’s strides.  

Superimposition.

Rafael returned the woman’s smile, before handing her his own card.  “Here, put it on mine.”  He turned toward Eli, and his smile became a decidedly darker expression.  “He’ll just owe me, won’t you, Eli?” Anxiety iced Eli’s bones.  What had he done?


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