Eliza whimpered, arching her back to present her tits as Gene fired rope after rope of thick cum all over them, splashing hot, thick sperm all over her flushed skin and throbbing nipples.
The spurts reduced to dribbles. Eliza's mouth watered and her eyes dilated as she stared down at her dripping, defiled tits. She wanted badly to reach down and scoop up the foul, tempting nectar, lifting it to her lips and tasting what she craved so badly.
But she couldn't. She had learned that lesson the hard way just last week. In a moment of weakness, she had tasted some of Gene's cum, despite his orders. He hadn't let her taste or feel his cum for three days after that. By the end, Eliza felt truly, pathetically sorry for disobeying.
It had been two weeks since their trip to the sex club, and Eliza had started to worry that Gene's new strategy to break her was going to be remarkably effective.
With a cruel grin plastered on his round, stubbled face, Gene shuffled forward, bringing his oozing cock right up to Eliza's mouth. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from eagerly sucking it into her drooling mouth. She could smell his sperm, practically taste it... With a slow, torturous motion, Gene wiped himself across her cheek, leaving a wet smear of his filthy semen. So close that Eliza could have stuck out her tongue and licked it up.
The cum might as well have been a million miles away.
Gene turned away to retrieve the wet wipes from his desk, and Eliza tried to focus on how good his jizz felt on her skin. The direct touch of her master's cum produced a warm, tingly, euphoric feeling that was quite pleasant: another symptom of her addiction. But as good as the skin contact felt, it was only a pale shadow of the pleasure eating her master's cum gave her; a half-fix that kept her from going crazy, but never truly scratched her itch.
It was all she had been allowed for two weeks. By now, Eliza throbbed with nagging hunger and frustrated lust every hour of every day.
Gene returned with his wet wipes and began the process of wiping away every trace of delicious semen from his Cumbunny's breasts and face. As he slowly cleaned her breasts, teasingly rubbing her stiff nipples a little longer than strictly necessary, the words burst from her lips in a petulant whine. "What do you want, Gene? What can I do?"
Eliza had asked the same thing in the past weeks, of course. Dozens of times by now. Gene gave the same vague, frustrating answer he always did, with a chuckle and a secretive smirk on his flabby lips.
"I'll let you swallow my cum again when you start acting like a real Cumbunny, Lizzie."
...
Eliza swirled her tongue around the smooth shaft in her mouth, taking it a little deeper. God, she wanted cum. She wanted to feel its blood-warm heat. Taste its rank saltiness. Feel it coat her throat as it slid down into her belly.
"Eliza... are you alright?' asked David quizzically, staring at her with furrowed eyebrows.
Shit. Eliza snapped herself out of her funk, taking a bite of her candy bar like a normal person. It seemed to be happening more and more these days; she would just slip into a sexual daydream about Gene and his cum. At least this time her mind hadn't wandered off in the middle of a sentence. She was worried that she was getting a reputation in the HR department for being a little slow.
She and David were lying in bed, supposedly watching television, but in reality going through yet another complex recounting of all the ways David was suffering at work.
Playing the role of sympathetic wife was becoming more and more difficult. In her heightened state of arousal and desperation for Gene, stories about Gene's bullying behavior had gone from mildly intriguing to frighteningly erotic. Gene was just sounded so dominant and strong when he was cruel to David... Hearing how her master had put her poor husband in his place made Eliza so horny now that it was hard to act upset on David's behalf.
"I'm just a little tired," lied Eliza, carefully wrapping up the remainder of the candy bar for later (it wasn't satisfying as she had hoped anyway. Food had lost its appeal lately). "We can keep talking, but let's turn off the lights." Her acting role would hopefully be a little easier in the dark.
David agreed with a hard-bitten sigh, turning off the television and snuggling up behind his wife in a spooning position.
Eliza's hair-trigger libido awoke at the close male physical attention, and her butt wriggled back eagerly into her husband's crotch. She had never stopped hoping that, even if he couldn't satisfy her unholy thirst for Gene's cum, David would at least be able to take the edge off of her sexual desires. But, as usual lately, her husband's crotch was soft and inert. He didn't even seem to notice the attempt at initiation. David had been utterly emasculated by stress.
Like the limp-dicked little beta he was.
The intrusive thought burst fully formed into Eliza's mind, almost like it belonged to someone else. It was scary how resonant the venomous, uncharitable idea felt. Eliza knew that, no matter how frustrating his complaints and impotence were, David wasn't a "beta", whatever that meant. His problems in the bedroom were one hundred percent Gene's fault. Who wouldn't have difficulty performing in bed when they were as burned out and stressed as Gene had made David? But still, the word "beta" was what had leapt immediately to Eliza's mind. Gene's way of thinking seemed to be seeping into her subconscious.
And if Eliza was starting to think more and more like Gene, that was a major issue... because Gene saw her as a vapid bimbo slut good for nothing but taking cock.
