Chapter 22: Dual Possession
The scream that tore from Mark’s throat was raw, stripped of any pretense. It wasn’t just pain. It was revelation. His back arched, a taut bow, forcing the obscene length of The Hummingbird deeper into him. The visible bulge just below his navel distended further, a firm, unnatural mound under his skin.
Ellie watched, her own breath coming in short, hot pants. The power was a drug, thick and heady in her veins. She didn’t think. She moved.
She swung her leg over his prone, trembling body, kneeling above his shoulders. Her new cock, thick and flushed, slapped wetly against his forehead. He blinked up at her, eyes wide, pupils blown with a mess of terror and helpless arousal.
“Lick me,” she commanded, her voice a hoarse scrape. She lowered herself, positioning her open, sensitive cunt directly over his mouth. The steam from her shower still rose from her skin, mingling with the sweat on his. “Taste it.”
A fresh, grinding vibration from The Hummingbird shook him, forcing a choked groan past his lips. His mouth opened on the sound, and Ellie ground herself down onto it.
The feel of his tongue, hesitant then frantic, against her slack, swollen folds was electric. She was so open, so profoundly stretched from her own sessions with the toy, that his tongue felt small, but the heat of it, the submission, was everything. She rode his face, her hips making slow, filthy circles, smearing her wetness across his lips and chin.
“That’s it,” she moaned, one hand braced on the headboard, the other reaching back to where The Hummingbird plunged into him. Her fingers found the base, now slick with a mix of his blood and the toy’s strange, cool lubricant. She pressed her palm against it, feeling the deep, rotational thrum moving inside him. “It’s fucking your prostate, isn’t it? Making you need to come even while it’s tearing you open.”
Mark’s answer was a muffled, affirmative sob, his tongue delving deeper, lapping at her. His nose pressed against her clit, and she shuddered, a bolt of pure sensation shooting up her spine. Below her, his body was a landscape of tense cables. His own cock was a rigid, leaking pressure against his stomach. But as she watched, as the relentless vibration continued, it began to change.
It twitched, a violent, involuntary spasm. Then, slowly, impossibly, it seemed to swell further. The veins stood out in stark relief. The shaft thickened, lengthening by visible increments, pushing out from his body. It was mirroring her transformation, growing larger, darker, responding to the toy’s invasive programming.
“Yes,” Ellie hissed, ecstatic. “Look at you. It’s changing you, too. Giving you what I wanted.”
The fantasy from the shower was manifesting in the most grotesque, thrilling way. Mark was being remade. His cock pulsed, a fat, heavy weapon of flesh.
It was overwhelming her—the hot, sucking pressure of his mouth on her cunt, the visual of his body being violated and altered beneath her. The coiled tension in her own core tightened, a spring wound to its breaking point.
She fucked his face in earnest now, losing rhythm, her motions becoming jerky and desperate. “You’re going to swallow it,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him fast. “Every drop. You’re going to taste my come.”
Her orgasmic wave crested and broke. It wracked her, a silent, convulsive explosion. Her cunt clenched around nothing, gushing a flood of release straight into his waiting mouth. He gagged, swallowing frantically, his throat working against her as she ground down, milking the last pulses onto his tongue.
She collapsed forward, catching herself on her hands, her cock now pressing into the sweat-slick hollow of his neck. She was panting, spent, watching as he coughed, her fluids glistening on his lips.
The Hummingbird, however, was not spent. Its hum shifted pitch, becoming a higher, more insistent whine. Inside Mark, the grinding rotation became a frantic.
Mark’s body went rigid, then dissolved into violent tremors. A sound emerged from him that was neither scream nor moan, but a raw, sustained exhalation of total sensory overload. His newly enlarged cock jerked, untouched, and shot a torrent of come onto his stomach, his chest, Ellie's back, stripe after thick stripe, as the toy fucked the orgasm out of him by pure, mechanical force.
It went on for a long time. Finally, with a final, subsiding buzz, The Hummingbird stilled. It was just an object again, lodged silently inside him.
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by their ragged breathing.
Slowly, carefully, Ellie pushed herself off him. She sat back on her heels, looking at the ruin of her friend. He lay face-down, cheek pressed into the wet spot of his own release, eyes closed, tears cutting tracks through the mess on his face. The Hummingbird protruded from him, a cold, carved cork in a bottle of spent wine.
A sliver of something—remorse, horror—pricked at the edges of her euphoria. She reached out, her fingers hovering over the bloody stretch of his asshole. “Mark?”
He flinched at her touch.
Before she could speak again, The Hummingbird dislodged itself with a soft, wet pop. It slid out of him, clean and oddly dry, and clattered onto the soaked sheets between them. It was smaller again, its vibrant colors muted.
Mark whimpered, curling instinctively into a fetal position.
Ellie picked up the toy. It was warm. It felt inert, but she knew better. It was just sleeping. Sated. For now.
Her gaze drifted from it to Mark’s transformed body, to his now-massive, softening cock, to the bloody proof of the violation. She had wanted this. She had fantasized it. The power she felt was undercut by a cold, dawning reality.
It didn’t just change her. It changed whatever it touched. And it was listening.
“Mark,” she said again, her voice softer.
He opened his eyes. They held none of the gentle warmth she’d known for years. They were hollow, shocked, and swimming with a fear so profound it made her stomach clench.
“What,” he croaked, each word a struggle, “what the fuck is that thing?”
The question hung in the lavender-scented air, and for the first time, Ellie had no answer. Only a deep, humming silence that felt like the calm before a storm.