Chapter 7: Owned Plastic Doll
Rara felt the eyes first. Hundreds of them. A low murmur rippled through the elegant wedding reception crowd as she walked into the grand ballroom on Mr. Bram’s arm. Her custom crimson cheongsam, slit high on her augmented hips, strained across the enormous, gravity-defying swell of her silicon breasts. Her plumped lips, glossy and red, curved in a practiced smile. Bram’s hand, heavy and possessive, rested on the small of her back, fingers dipping dangerously low. "Smile, Mrs. Bram," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, the unexpected title sending a jolt of adrenaline and perverse pride through her. "Show them who owns you."
Hali stood across the room, a fluted glass of untouched champagne trembling in her hand. She watched the spectacle: the way Bram paraded Rara like a prize-winning show pony, the way Rara preened under the scrutiny, tilting her head to expose the column of her throat as Bram whispered. Heard the scattered, uncertain whispers: “…Mr. Bram’s new… companion?” “…Stunning, isn’t she? Quite the transformation…” “…heard she’s something exotic…” Hali’s knuckles were white on the glass stem. Mrs. Bram. The words echoed, mocking the simple band on her own finger. She saw Rara laugh, a bright, tinkling sound that didn’t quite reach her eyes – eyes that now held a hard, glittering edge beneath the mascara.
In the plush quiet of Bram’s penthouse an hour later, the city lights sprawling below like scattered diamonds, the facade fell away. Bram shoved Rara backwards onto the vast expanse of his silk-covered bed. "Strip. Show me what I paid for," he commanded, already loosening his tie. His gaze was predatory, fixated on the impossible curve of her chest beneath the crimson silk. Rara obeyed with practiced ease, peeling the cheongsam down over her hips, stepping out of it, leaving only a tiny black thong. She stood naked under the dim recessed lighting, her massive breasts high and unnaturally round, the scars beneath them hidden but the tightness of the skin obvious, her hips wide and sculpted. Bram circled her, a dark shadow. "Turn around, slut."
She complied, presenting her back to him. He traced the swell of her ass, then spanked her hard, once, twice, the sharp cracks loud in the silence. Rara gasped, pushing back instinctively. "Good girl," Bram purred. He grabbed a thick wad of cash from his discarded suit jacket on a nearby velvet chair. "Hold still." He shoved the bundle roughly between the sweaty cleft of her massive breasts, the crisp notes crinkling against her slick skin. "Mine," he growled, palming one hard globe, squeezing painfully. "These fucking tits? Mine. Paid for every fucking cc." He pushed her forward, bending her over the edge of the bed, her augmented breasts dangling obscenely, the money wedged deep in her cleavage. Her thong vanished with a rip. He spat onto his fingers, then onto the thick, purple head of his already rock-hard cock. "This greedy ass? Mine." He pressed the blunt tip against her tight hole.
Rara braced herself, breathing raggedly. "Fuck me, Daddy. Please. Claim me." He slammed forward without warning, burying himself to the root in one brutal thrust. Rara screamed, her back arching, her massive breasts jolting violently with the impact. "YES! GOD! SO DEEP!" Bram didn't pause. He gripped her wide hips, fingers digging into the artificial curves, and began a relentless rhythm, pistoning his enormous cock into her ass with deep, grinding strokes. Each powerful thrust forced a choked cry from Rara, her body slamming against the mattress. Her breasts swung wildly, hypnotically, the bundled cash slipping slightly but still trapped in her cleavage by the sheer pressure. Sweat slicked her back, glistening under the lights.
"Who owns this ass?" Bram demanded, spanking her hard with each word. Smack! "Who?" Smack! "SAY IT!" Smack! The slaps stung, blending with the incredible fullness splitting her open.
"YOU, DADDY! YOU OWN IT! YOU OWN MY ASS!" Rara shrieked, her voice raw. "YOU OWN MY TITS! ALL OF ME!"
Bram grunted, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, losing rhythm, purely animalistic. The obscene sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, punctuated by Rara's ragged gasps and Bram's guttural growls. "Fucking perfect shemale whore," he snarled. "Made for this cock. Made. To. Take. It." He shoved the money deeper between her bouncing breasts with his free hand, the notes sticking to her sweat-slicked skin. Rara felt the pressure building, unstoppable, a coil tightening at the base of her spine. The brutal invasion, the pain-pleasure of his size stretching her beyond reason, the sheer degradation of the cash stuffed against her purchased flesh – it pushed her over the edge. She came violently, her ass clamping down vise-tight around Bram's pounding cock, her vision whiting out as convulsions wracked her body. "FUCK! FUCK! CUMMING! DADDY, I'M CUMMING ON YOUR HUGE COCK!" she wailed, her voice breaking.
Her intense clenching triggered Bram's own release. He roared, a primal sound, burying himself impossibly deep as he pulsed jet after thick jet of cum into her bowels, holding her impaled as he shuddered through his climax. He stayed inside her for a long moment, both panting, dripping with sweat. Finally, he pulled out slowly, the massive cockhead popping free, leaving her gaping hole leaking white. He gave her ass a final, stinging slap. "Clean yourself up, Mrs. Bram. I have an early meeting." He walked towards the bathroom, leaving her sprawled across the bed, trembling, the cash still nestled between her sweaty, heaving breasts.
Later, the sleek black car pulled up outside Hali and Rara’s modest apartment building. Bram hadn't even walked her to the door. Rara climbed out, adjusting her dress, her movements stiff, her makeup smudged. Hali watched from their dark living room window, unseen. She saw the exhaustion etched on Rara's face, the slight wince as she walked, the unnatural stiffness in her posture. But she also saw the way Rara touched the cash still tucked into her bra before entering the building, a small, satisfied, almost grim smile touching her swollen lips. The car sped away without a backward glance. Hali turned away from the window, the cold emptiness of the apartment pressing in. The silence was deafening, filled only by the phantom echoes of Rara’s ecstatic screams and the rustle of banknotes on sweaty skin. Downstairs, the key turned in the lock.