Phineas must be a willing sperm donor…which means Leopold can’t abuse me. I wish I could say forcing sex between Phineas and me counts as abuse, but the burn between my legs has blazed from uncomfortable to maddening. Whatever hormones live in his ejaculate, he should bottle and sell. At this point, I’d allow any blunt instrument into my cunt if they promised it would ease my pelvic ache and elongated, over-sensitized clit. My mind doesn’t want sex, but my body is primed and insistent.
“No hitting? Mr. Breyers usually holds them down so I can strap the ladies onto the table. Do I need Mr. Breyers, or will you help me?” Leopold asks his questions in a syrupy sweet voice.
“I will help for leaving out Mr. Breyers—and don’t strap Hairy in too tightly. Don’t hurt her,” Phineas says with a flash of his pointy teeth.
My panic multiplies one hundred times. How dare Phineas bargain with Leopold when he has all the power?! While I don’t want Mr. Breyers anywhere near my naked body, I don’t want to be strapped to the waist-height table either. The leather restraints for ankles and wrists are at least two inches wide. The middle belt, dangling onto the floor, is wider. Once I’m in place, I will be helpless. I doubt Phineas is strong enough to bust through the restraints either. It will take a moment of privacy for him to undo the buckles, and Lord knowsLeopold won’t take his eyes off me once I’m an experiment.
Dammit, why did I have to get the attention I’ve always wanted now?!
“Settle, Hairy,” Phineas whispers against my neck. Leopold grumbles something and crawls under the table. As he fumbles with the latches on the table legs to reach it, Phineas inches us backward. “My plan will get us and our hatchlings a raft life.”
Plan? Phineas has a plan! I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. He winks at me in the cutest gesture I’ve ever seen. A barbel caresses my cheek. I cup his jaw in my palm to show my support. Tentacles wrap around my arm and neck. My desire to open my thighs for him intensifies. I can’t stand the empty rubbing of my vaginal walls on each other. For a second, I believe we are on the banks of the swamp in a moment of passion—not ensnared in Leopold’s research. Phineas exudes strength, cunning, and virility. He’s not a giant dumb monster...
…And Leopold underestimates his intelligence.
“Yes, settled. Let’s get her settled,” Leopold says from under the table, grasping onto the half he heard. His ego prevents him from noticing Phineas’s rebellion or asking Phineas to repeat our exchanges. He treats us like furniture. That will work in our favor when escaping under his nose.
“Lay down and let me love you,” Phineas says loud enough for Leopold to hear.
My husband’s evil smile beams in the dustyroom.
Too bad I’m so desperate for Phineas’s cock, the table looks inviting. I won’t give my husband the satisfaction of whimpering and begging to be released. No, I want Phineas. My body hungers for him. With my ankles secured on the ends of metal table extensions and my feet cupped in the metal fasteners, I’ll have leverage for thrusting.
If Leopold wants a narrative of his unethical experiments to publish in a dodgy scientific journal, I’ll give him a show he’ll never forget! Let’s see who the man is when I scream his monster’s name and ride his monster’s cock. I’ll beg Phineas to keep going after I’m full of eggs!
Let’s see if that gets rise out of my impotent husband!
“I’m sorry, Hairy,” Phineas says with tears in his voice as he lays me on the table. “I will love you gently.”
“I know you will,” I reply before kissing him fiercely. I hold the back of his head when he tries to break our kiss. My tongue thrusts inside his mouth, mimicking how I want to be impaled upon him. I tuck the end of a tentacle between my thighs and wiggle until it’s coated with juices. The tip glides an inch inside me to tease the spongy section of my front wall. Yes, he will dohis best to pleasure me. He will find a way to set us free.
“I believe in you.”
My words are coated with meaning as I whisper them into his ear.
I shock Leopold to his toes when I raise my arms over my head to be shackled. He glares at my smirk. Phin’s lids lower with arousal. One hand massages my hip while the other pumps more green ejaculate from his smaller cock. It oozes over his hand. He glides the back of his knuckles between my labia to transfer the fluid to my arousal-engorged flesh. My hips undulate for more when he massages my inner labia. I throw my head back and moan wantonly when he thrusts two webbed fingers coated in green goop into me.
The burn reaches inferno levels. The tingling in my abdomen morphs into pressure on my pelvic bones. Am I being split in half?
“It burns,” I whine when I wish I could keep silent. All my modesty washed away with the green fluid. He adds a dollop to each nipple, so they harden like diamonds. His fingers plunge between my lips when I gasp. My tongue dances with his flavor and tiny stings. Even my gums threaten to let go of my teeth and prance around my mouth after he rubs them. My eyes roll back into my head with need.
“I will put your fires out,” Phineas declares with the robustness of a man in charge. I strain to push my legs open as far as I can while he looms overme. His tentacles rub along my legs and belly in loving sweeps.
“I want you,” I whisper in response. My tongue is too large for my mouth, so my words come out sloppy. Drool drips from the corners and down my chin.
“She’s ready for your hectocotylus, Phineas,” Leopold says as he emerges from under the table. Not only am I strung out between my wrist and ankle restraints, but a thick strap holds my ribs down.
“Yes, Phin, I’m ready for you,” I say between pants.
“Let’s gag her,” Leopold says with a rough edge. He enters my field of view with a ball hanging from a leather strap.
“Don’t you dare,” Phin whispers with a menacing hiss. “Her sounds belong to me.”
Phineas
He puts the ball gag away. I said no, and he turned to comply. What is going on? Hairy liesin the straps with love and trust in her eyes. She will be a loving mother to our hatchlings if I can get her out of here. I’ve done a thorough job of preparing her to receive eggs. With my fluids changing her body, I won’t rip the muscle at the top of her opening that Papa calls a cervix. Ripping a cervix could fill her with blood…that’s how the fighting, blond-haired lady died. No, I won’t injure Harriett. I must believe she’s my mate and built to bear my hatchlings.
To sneak out of here, she must be pregnant.
