Rahman refuses to unlink the doll but offers temporary pauses on the auction in exchange for daily "negotiations," trapping Olivia deeper in his control while her secret spirals toward inevitable exposure.
The drive home from the restaurant felt like an eternity for Olivia, her body still buzzing with the aftershocks of Rahman's remote torment. Her sheer black micro-dress clung to her sweat-dampened skin, the hem riding up her thighs where her pussy juices had soaked through, leaving a sticky, humiliating reminder of the multiple orgasms she'd endured at the table. Josh glanced over with a smug grin, his hand sliding between her legs to tease her swollen clit, mistaking her flushed cheeks and ragged breathing for excitement from the public exposure. "Fuck, babe, you were such a slut tonight—squirting all over the floor like that? I could smell your wet cunt from across the table," he growled, his fingers dipping into her slick folds and pumping roughly, making her gasp and buck against his hand despite the soreness.
By the time they stumbled through the front door, Olivia was a mess of conflicting emotions—humiliation burning in her chest while her traitorous body craved more. Josh pinned her against the wall immediately, yanking the dress over her head to expose her naked form, her 36C tits heaving with each breath, pink nipples hard as diamonds from the lingering phantom sucks. "You loved those eyes on you, didn't you? All those men watching your bald pussy flash while you danced like a whore," he taunted, dropping to his knees and burying his face between her thighs. His tongue lashed her clit mercilessly, sucking the swollen nub into his mouth while his fingers plunged deep into her dripping hole, curling to hit her G-spot. Olivia's knees buckled as another orgasm crashed over her, squirting hot juices onto Josh's chin and shirt, her cries echoing off the walls:"Oh god, Josh—fuck, I'm cumming again, you make my pussy so fucking wet!"
But midway through his rough tongue-fucking, Rahman struck again. An invisible cock slammed into her ass—thick, unyielding, stretching her tight ring without mercy—while another phantom shaft filled her pussy alongside Josh's fingers. The dual sensations overwhelmed her: Josh's real, hot mouth on her clit, sucking and biting, while the quantum intrusions pounded her holes in brutal rhythm.
"What the fuck—Josh, something's... ahhh, shit, it's happening again!" she screamed
Her body convulsing as squirt gushed from her cunt like a faucet, soaking the entryway floor. Josh pulled back, confused but aroused, wiping his face.
"Damn, you're hornier than ever—must be all that wine. Get on your knees, slut, and suck my cock like you mean it."
She dropped obediently, hands shaking as she freed his 11-inch monster from his pants, the thick girth twitching in her grip. But as she wrapped her lips around the head, swirling her tongue over the salty pre-cum leaking from his slit, Rahman's doll activated her mouth too—an invisible dick forcing its way down her throat, making her gag and choke around Josh's real cock.
"Mmmph—fuck, Josh, your cock's so big, it's stretching my throat," she mumbled vulgarly between slurps, but inside, the phantom cum-taste flooded her senses, bitter and thick.
Josh groaned, fisting her blonde hair and fucking her face harder: "That's it, you dirty little cocksucker—take every inch, choke on my fat dick like the whore you are." He came down her throat in hot spurts, forcing her to swallow while the quantum link made her feel double loads—real and phantom—coating her tongue and dripping from her lips.
Exhausted, they collapsed into bed, but sleep brought no peace. Olivia's phone buzzed at 2:14 a.m.—a new email from Rahman: Subject: Your Debut Performance. Attached was a video file labeled "Restaurant Slut Exposed.mp4". Her heart pounded as she hit play in the dark, Josh snoring beside her.
The footage was grainy but devastating: her at the table, face flushed, moaning audibly as phantom cocks ravaged her; close-ups of her eyes glazing over, mouth parting in ecstasy; the spotlight turning her sheer dress invisible, revealing her heaving tits and erect nipples; close of the squirt hitting the floor in visible streams, pooling under her chair. Comments scrolled below from Rahman's underground forum: "Tight pussy on that blonde bitch—bet she feels every thrust." "I'd pay to wreck that ass with the doll." Rahman had replied: Auction for hourly slots starts soon. Highest bidder gets full control.
Olivia's hands shook. "No... oh god, no," she whispered, deleting the email frantically. But another buzz: Text from Rahman: Come to the office tomorrow at noon. We negotiate in person. Bring that pretty mouth—and wear something slutty. Or the full video goes to Josh.
The next morning, Olivia dressed as ordered: a tight white crop top that strained over her braless tits, nipples poking through the thin fabric, paired with a short plaid skirt that barely covered her ass, no panties. Her pussy still throbbed from the night before, slick with unwanted arousal at the thought of facing Rahman. She drove to the seedy neighborhood, heart racing, the run-down house looming like a predator.
Rahman greeted her at the door with a predatory grin, his thick black beard framing a face that screamed control. "Olivia, my favorite debtor. Come in—let's discuss terms." He led her to his office, the same wooden desk where she'd signed her life away. The sex doll sat in the corner—her exact body replica, curves identical, pussy and ass exposed and glistening as if freshly used.
"Sit," he commanded, pointing to the chair opposite him. She obeyed, skirt riding up to expose her bare cunt. But she couldn't care less, Rahman's eyes lingered. "You felt everything last night, didn't you? My cock pounding that tight pink pussy of yours while you pretended to enjoy dinner with your husband. I sent my men to get all of your whorich at on record. You squirted like a cheap whore."
Olivia flushed, voice trembling. "Please, Rahman—stop this. I'll pay double, somehow. Just unlink the doll."
He laughed, leaning back. "Unlink? No, doll. You're too valuable. But perhaps we can adjust. Work it off." He stood, unzipping his pants to free his thick, dark cock—veiny, hard, bigger than Josh's. "Start with that mouth. Suck me like you mean it, and I'll pause the auction for a day."
Humiliation boiled in her gut, but the alternative—Josh seeing the videos, strangers using her remotely—was far worse. She knelt, tears pricking her eyes, and took him into her mouth. "That's it, you blonde slut—suck my fat cock deep," Rahman groaned, grabbing her hair and thrusting roughly, his girth stretching her lips, pre-cum salty on her tongue. Midway, he signaled Marcus—the 6'5" black guard—to join, who pulled out his massive 13-inch monster cock and began stroking the doll's pussy.
Olivia felt it instantly: the burn of that huge shaft stretching her real cunt while Rahman's cock fucked her throat. "Mmmph—fuck, it's too big!" she gagged around him, but he held her down. "Feel that, bitch? Marcus is wrecking your wet pussy through the doll. Cum for us like the whore you are." She did—orgasming hard, squirting onto the office floor while Rahman flooded her mouth with hot cum at the same time, forcing her to swallow every drop.
But they weren't done. Rahman called in his assistant Jamal—a wiry, smirking man with a smaller but relentless cock—and the three took turns: Rahman now in her ass, pounding her bent over the desk
"Take my dick in your tight shithole, you loan-slut"
Marcus face-fucking her
"Choke on my black cock, white bitch—swallow that load"
Jamal using the doll to double her pussy sensations
"Feel both cocks stretching your greedy cunt? Squirt for me, whore"
By the end, Olivia lay on the floor in a puddle of cum and squirt, every hole sore and leaking. Rahman zipped up, grinning. "Good start. Come back tomorrow—same time, sluttier outfit. Or the videos go viral in all social media platforms."
She drove home sobbing, the taste of three men lingering on her tongue, her pussy throbbing with unwanted afterglow.