Nathalie's breath hitched, her body trembling as she felt my cum dripping down her thighs, her asshole still clenching around me, her pussy throbbing with the aftershocks of her own orgasm. "I-I didn't—! Hmmm—!" Her voice broke, her fingers clawing at the air as if she could somehow undo what had just happened.

But it was too late.

Tyler's face was a mask of horror and betrayal, his body trembling as he watched his mother—her body still impaled on my cock, her asshole leaking my cum, her pussy dripping with her own shameful release. "M-Mom...?" His voice was a broken whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief.

I groaned, my cock still twitching inside Nathalie's asshole, my cum filling her, marking her. "That's it," I murmured, my voice a dark promise as I finally pulled out, my cum dripping from her asshole, her thighs glistening with our combined release. "You took it all, didn't you, Nathalie?" My fingers traced the curve of her ass, my touch possessive. "Every. Last. Drop."

I pulled my cock out of her asshole with a wet pop, thick ropes of my cum immediately dripping from her stretched, gaping hole, rolling down her trembling thighs.

Nathalie's legs gave out beneath her, and I let her collapse to the floor, her body crumpling like a broken doll. She landed on her hands and knees, her breath coming in ragged, sobbing gasps, her fingers clawing at the cold tiles as if she could dig her way out of this hell.

"This isn't me…" she whimpered, her voice cracking, her body shaking violently. "This is not me…" Her tears mixed with the cum dripping from her asshole, pooling beneath her on the floor, the scent of sex and shame thick in the air. She tried to curl in on herself, her shoulders heaving with sobs, her fingers tangling in her own hair like she could rip the memory from her mind.

But the proof was right there—her asshole still gaping slightly, my cum leaking out of her in thick, shameful droplets, her thighs slick with it. The floor beneath her was a mess—her own release, my cum, the humiliation of what she'd just done all mixed together in a filthy, glistening puddle.

Angela crouched beside her, her fingers tracing the cum dripping from Nathalie's asshole before bringing them to her own lips, licking them clean with a slow, deliberate mmm. "Oh, but it is you, Nathalie," she purred, her voice dripping with sadistic delight.

"This is exactly who you are." Her free hand gripped Nathalie's chin, forcing her to meet her gaze. "A squirting, cum-drenched slut who takes cock in her ass and loves it." She leaned in, her lips brushing Nathalie's ear, her voice a dark whisper. "And you're ours now."

Nathalie's breath hitched, her body trembling as she felt Angela's words cut through her. "N-No…" she sobbed, her voice broken, her fingers pressing into her eyes like she could block out the truth. But she couldn't. Not when her asshole was still leaking my cum, not when her body was still throbbing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

I stepped closer, my cock still glistening with her juices, my voice a low, velvety growl. "You can lie to yourself all you want, Nathalie," I murmured, my fingers tangling in her hair, tilting her head back so she had no choice but to look up at me.

"But your body knows the truth." My free hand slid down, my fingers pressing against her cum-drenched asshole, feeling the way it twitched around nothing. "And so do we."

Nathalie's sobs turned into a broken whimper, her body shuddering as she felt my touch, her asshole clenching involuntarily. "I-I didn't ask for this…" she choked out, her voice raw with shame.

"No," I agreed, my voice a dark purr. "But you wanted it." My fingers pressed harder against her asshole, my thumb swirling through the cum leaking from her. "And you took it." My voice dropped to a whisper, my lips brushing her ear. "All of it."

Angela's laughter was a cold, triumphant melody. "And you're going to take it again," she taunted, her fingers gripping Nathalie's hair, yanking her head back just enough to force her to meet her gaze. "Because you're ours now, Nathalie." Her voice was a blade. "And we're far from done with you."

Tyler lay on the hospital bed, his body curled in on itself, his sobs raw and desperate. And then I saw it—a dark, spreading stain on his hospital gown, blood seeping from his crotch, the fabric clinging to the wound.

My grip on Nathalie tightened, my voice a low, velvety command as I turned to Angela. "Get Max. Now." My tone left no room for argument. "Tyler needs a hospital. Now." I went to grab my pants and put them on.

Angela's smirk faltered for just a second before she nodded, her voice sharp as she barked orders into her comms. "Max. Bring the medical team. Tyler's bleeding out. Move."

I carried Nathalie into one of the adjacent rooms, her body limp against mine, her breath hitching as I laid her down on the bed. The sheets were crisp, sterile—nothing like the mess we'd left on the floor outside.

I brushed a strand of damp hair from her face, my voice softer than before, but no less commanding. "Don't worry," I murmured, my thumb tracing her cheekbone. "Your son is safe. Max will take care of him." My fingers tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. "Just rest."

Her eyes were hollow, her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but no words came. Only the quiet, shuddering breaths of a woman who'd been broken and rebuilt in the span of an hour.

My voice dropped to a whisper, my lips brushing her ear. "And don't think of doing anything stupid." My fingers tightened slightly in her hair, just enough to make my point clear. "No suicide. No escape attempts. No funny ideas." My voice was a blade, sharp and unyielding.

"Because if you do…" I let the threat hang in the air, my eyes flicking toward the door where Tyler's faint, pained whimpers could still be heard. "Your son will die."

Nathalie's breath hitched, her body tensing for just a second before she nodded, her fingers clutching at the sheets beneath her. She didn't speak. She didn't have to. The message was clear.

I straightened, my gaze lingering on her for just a moment longer before I turned and walked out the door. Max was already there, flanked by two soldiers, Tyler's limp body cradled in his arms. The blood had soaked through the gown, but Max's expression was focused, professional. "Hospital. Now," he barked, his voice leaving no room for delay.

I watched as they carried Tyler away, his pained whimpers fading down the hallway. Then I turned back to the room where Nathalie lay, her body curled into itself, her breath shallow.

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