Chapter 6: An Eye for an Eye
The air in the loft thickened, charged with the salt-and-ozone scent of sweat and synthetic biology. Elena’s command hung between them, a guillotine blade waiting to drop.
Margot stared at her wife, then at the face above her—her own face, now attached to those grotesquely enlarged breasts. A hot flush of humiliation crawled up her neck. This was a punishment. A fucked-up, erotic, exactly-right punishment. She’d wanted to see what it was like. Now Elena would watch, and judge.
“You’re a goddamn sadist,” Margot breathed, but there was no fight in it. Her cunt throbbed, wet and empty where Stella’s fingers had just been.
“You started it,” Elena said softly, her hand still pressing against her own slacks. “Now finish it.”
The threat was cold, clear. Margot looked into Stella’s eyes. They were her eyes, green and steady, but behind them was nothing but ambient light waiting for input. It should have been horrifying. Instead, it was permission. With a ragged sigh, Margot reached up, pulling Stella down by the back of the neck. She kissed her again, hard, biting the lower lip she knew so well, feeling the strange fullness of Stella’s tits crush against her smaller chest.
“Do it,” Margot whispered against the doll’s mouth.
Stella moved with fluid efficiency. She slid down Margot’s body, her tongue a warm, wet stripe over freckled skin. When she reached Margot’s cunt, she didn’t hesitate. She buried her face in it.
“Oh, fuck!” Margot’s back arched off the rug. The sensation was instantaneous and overwhelming. Stella’s tongue was a flat, broad muscle lapping up her juices, then focusing on her clit, flicking it with a speed no human could sustain.
Elena watched, unblinking. She finally unbuttoned her trousers, shoved her hand past her underwear. She was soaking wet. The sight of her wife—pragmatic, detached Margot—completely unraveling was the most potent aphrodisiac she’d ever known. Margot’s thighs trembled, her hands fisted in Stella’s auburn hair, grinding her face deeper into her pussy.
“That’s it,” Elena murmured, her own fingers mirroring the rhythm on her clit. “Let her eat you out. Let your little toy make you come.”
Margot’s orgasm tore through her with a violence that felt stolen from someone else. It was a sharp, screaming peak that locked her spine and stripped her voice to a raw, ragged gasp. Her thighs clamped around Stella’s head, muscles seizing as the doll’s tongue kept working, wringing every last convulsive pulse from her soaked cunt until Margot, oversensitive and trembling, had to shove her away.
Her thighs clamped around Stella’s head, muscles seizing as the doll’s tongue kept working, wringing every last convulsive pulse from her soaked cunt until Margot, oversensitive and trembling, had to shove her away.
A heavy, liquid silence descended, broken only by their ragged breathing and the slick sound of Elena’s hand moving slowly between her own legs. Stella knelt back on her heels, Margot’s wetness glistening on her chin and the perfect, infuriatingly placid curve of her mouth.
Margot lay spent on the rug, the high-vaulted ceiling of their loft swimming above her. Her skin buzzed, a live wire of shame and profound satisfaction. She turned her head to see Elena, whose dark eyes were fixed on her, fingers still working beneath her own clothing.
“Well,” Elena said, her voice husky and low. “That was something.”
“Yeah.” Margot’s throat felt scraped raw. “It was.”
Stella tilted her head, the movement an eerily accurate mimicry of Margot’s own curiosity. “Your respiratory rate and flush indicate heightened arousal, Elena. You enjoyed watching.”
Elena’s hand stilled. A flicker of cold anger tightened her features, a defense against the naked truth. She withdrew her hand, wiping her fingers on her dark slacks with a sharp, deliberate motion. “I enjoyed watching you make her come,” she corrected, her gaze cutting from the doll to her wife. “Watching her lose control like that. It was hot. Doesn’t mean I’m sold on you being a permanent fixture.”
Margot pushed herself up onto her elbows. The air felt charged, the afterglow hardening into something more complex. “She’s not a fixture, El. She’s a tool. A really, really effective one.” She ran a hand through her short, sweat-damp hair. “Fuck. That was… intense.”
A wry, tired smile touched Elena’s lips. “You’re the one who wanted a logical solution to our spark. Looks like you got one.”
“It’s not a replacement,” Margot said quickly, sitting up fully. “It’s an augmentation.” She looked at Stella, at the body that was a carbon copy of her own, now adorned with breasts that belonged to a different fantasy entirely. “But, seeing double is… messing with my head. It was kinky as hell, but it’s also kind of weirding me the fuck out.”
Stella simply watched, waiting.
“So change her,” Elena said, shrugging one shoulder as she re-buttoned her trousers. The curator was reasserting herself, finding control in curation. “Redesign her.”
Margot’s eyes, sharp and assessing, traveled over Stella’s form. “Yeah. Okay. The face. Maybe keep the general structure, but…softer jawline. Different eyes. Hazel, maybe. Not green.” Her gaze dropped to the massive breasts. “And these… we should go bigger. Not just a copy of yours. Something… more.”
Elena raised an eyebrow. “Bigger than mine? Now you’re just designing your own porn.”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Margot shot back, a spark of her old humor returning. “But seriously. If she’s going to be this… this outlet, this fantasy object, let’s commit. Let’s make her unique. Something we both shape.”
She reached out, her fingers tracing the heavy, alien curve of Stella’s left breast. The skin was flawlessly warm. “What do you think, El? You’re the one with an eye for form.”
Elena studied the doll, a slow, considering look. The jealousy that had churned in her earlier was tempered now by a different, more potent feeling: creative power. “The proportions would be absurd.”
“Exactly,” Margot said, her voice dropping, intimate.
Stella listened, her programming integrating the feedback. “I can modify these parameters. Please define the desired cup size and facial symmetry coordinates.”
Elena let out a short, surprised laugh. “God, this is so fucking clinical.” She walked over, standing above them both. She looked down at Margot, at the naked vulnerability and arousal still visible in her wife’s face. “Okay. Let’s do it. Let’s see what happens.”
She knelt then, not touching Stella, but placing a hand on Margot’s bare shoulder. Her touch was warm, possessive. “But you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re mine. This doesn’t change that.”
“Never,” Margot breathed, leaning into her touch, the commitment solid in the space between them, even as the third entity in the room prepared to transform.