Soulbound Temptations 🔥
Links for your pleasure: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 1: The Hidden Pulse
Marcus leaned against the scarred oak doorframe of his coastal bungalow, salt air whipping through the open windows like a lover’s breath gone wild. At 48, he was built like a weathered lighthouse—broad shoulders from years hauling lobster traps, salt-streaked black hair curling at the nape, eyes sharp as gulls spotting fish. His wife, Elena, was off jetting to some marketing summit in the city, leaving him alone with her spitfire of a stepdaughter, Lila.
Lila, nineteen and a storm in human form, paced the creaky living room floor. Her wild auburn curls bounced against shoulders toned from endless gym sessions, body a sinful curve of hips flaring wide over thick thighs, full C-cups straining a ripped band tee from her tattoo parlor gig. Freckles dusted her nose, green eyes flashing defiance. She clutched her phone like a weapon, thumbs flying.
“Marcus, I need the truck to haul ass to Sasha’s tattoo expo. Like, yesterday. License test? Fuck that noise—I’ll reschedule.”
He crossed his arms, muscles flexing under his faded tee. “No dice, kid. You’ve dodged it twice. My buddy rigged this heavy-duty rig license test just for you—big truck pull-up at the docks in twenty. You’re getting wheels, or you’re grounded.”
She spun, skirt hiking up those endless legs wrapped in fishnet stockings, boots thudding. “Adulting means I call shots. Uber it is.” Her laugh was bitter honey as she stormed upstairs, ass swaying like a taunt.
Marcus rubbed his jaw, frustration boiling into something darker. Up in the master loft, he dragged a dusty cedar box from the rafters. Inside, the amulet gleamed—ancient silver twin serpents coiled, fangs touching, a leather thong frayed from decades. Snatched from a Moroccan souk in his wild twenties, the hag had whispered of soul-leaping, body-snatching power. “Beware the venom’s rush in female flesh,” she’d croaked. He’d tested it once, hopping into a dancer, drowning in wet heat that lingered weeks.
Now? Perfect for taming Lila’s rebellion. He slipped it on, the metal warming like spilled cum against his chest fur. Crossed the hall, knocked hard. Silence, then her muffled hiss into the phone: “He’s such a prick. Yeah, expo’s gonna be lit—gonna ink that monster sleeve tonight.”
He feigned retreat, thudded down the stairs, slammed the door with theater. Waited, heart pounding. Footsteps creaked—Lila descending, giggling. “Gone. Meet me there?”
His hand shot out, fingers brushing her arm. Zap. World inverted. Suddenly, he stared up at his own towering frame from five-foot-four, Lila’s compact power surging through him. Stumbled, tits—her lush, heavy globes—jiggling painfully as knees hit wood. Phone skittered; Sasha’s voice buzzed: “Lila? Babe?”
“Plans changed—test time. Later.” He killed the call, voice husky with her timbre. Sat up, palms cupping those sensitive mounds, nipples pebbling under thin fabric. Skirt wedged indecently high, thong damp? No, just the shift. But fuck, the sway, the lower center…
Doorbell blared. Through the peephole: a battered rig idling, Victor stepping out—mid-fifties, paunch straining his hi-vis vest, buzzcut graying, leer etched permanent. Marcus-in-Lila yanked the door wide.
Chapter 2: Gears of Desire
Victor’s eyes bugged, clipboard forgotten as they raked Lila’s form—from thigh-high fishnets to the tee clinging like sweat, outlining rock-hard nips. “Late start, missy. Boss pulled strings, but I ain’t soft. Hop in.”
Marcus blinked through her lashes, body thrumming. “Gimme a sec to change—” But Victor’s meaty palm landed on bare midriff, shoving toward the truck. Skin prickled electric. “This slutwear? Fine for me. Move.”
Inside the cab, leather scorched sun-hot against thighs. Marcus fumbled the seat forward, belt slicing between breasts, Victor’s gaze devouring the cleavage canyon. Mirrors set, engine growled to life—beast of a diesel, vibrations humming straight to Lila’s core.
“Back out slow, arm ’round me, eyes rear.” Victor barked. Marcus twisted, arm draping his seatback, tits brushing his shoulder. Victor inhaled deep—Lila’s vanilla-musk scent mixing exhaust. Pulled out jerky, his hand “slipped” to inner thigh.
“Eyes front!” Marcus snapped, but Victor chuckled, fingers inching. “Distraction drill. Ignore or fail.”
Road blurred—coastal highway, waves crashing audible over rumble. Victor’s touch climbed, nails scraping silk skin, circling higher. Gooseflesh rippled; a traitorous slickness bloomed between legs. Hormones? Or Lila’s body remembering something filthy? Marcus gripped wheel, knuckles white, even as thighs parted a whisper.
“Good girl,” Victor murmured, breath hot on neck. His other hand adjusted crotch—thick outline swelling. “Pull off at old quarry. Rig check.”
Quarry lot: dust-choked void ringed by cliffs, sea wind howling. Marcus killed engine, belt off. Victor lunged around, yanked door, hauled Lila out by wrist. Stumbled on boots—heels catching gravel—fell into him. His paw clamped a tit, thumb flicking nipple through tee.
Gasped—Lila’s voice a whimper. Pleasure stabbed deep, pussy clenching void. “Engine… check?”
Victor grinned wolfish, shoving her against grille, hood popping. Pinned hip-to-hip, bulge grinding ass cleft. “Oil dip, sweetheart.” Leaned over, chest smothering back, cockhead nudging thong aside through skirts.
Marcus froze, then melted. Years of secret hops flashed—cops groping, bosses bending. Submission’s siren call roared. Hand snaked back, palmed his zipper, squeezed veiny girth. “Like that, tester?” Voice breathy slut-purr.
Victor growled, hips snapping. “Fuck yes. Drop trou.”
Quarry Heat Ignites
Skirt hiked, thong yanked aside. Victor’s fingers plunged—two thick digits spearing wet folds. “Dripping slut. Knew from your strut.” Sloshed in, curling, thumb mashing clit. Lila’s body bucked, walls fluttering. Marcus moaned, tasting salt spray on lips, diesel tang thick, his own grunts echoing off stone.
“Bend over, bitch.” Victor spun, slammed her chest to hood. Jeans rasped down; purpled cock sprang—girth like wrist, veins throbbing, precum beading musky. Spat on hole, rammed in. Stretch burned divine—Lila’s cunt velvet vise gripping.
“Fuuuck!” Marcus wailed, tits dragging hot metal, nipples sparks. Victor pounded merciless, balls slapping thighs, hand fisting auburn curls. “Tight teen whore. Pass? Earn it.” Sweat-slick slaps, her juices squirting down legs, fishnets tearing.
Orgasms crashed—first pussy-gush soaking boots, second wracking tits to toes. Victor roared, flooded deep—hot ropes painting womb. Pulled out sloppy, smeared cum-face. “Clean.” Lila’s tongue lolled, slurped salty spend, eyes glazed.
“Test passed.” Victor zipped, tossed keys. “Rig’s yours anytime.” Drove off, leaving Marcus slumped, body quaking aftershocks.
Chapter 3: Crimson Cravings 💋
Truck rumbled homeward, Lila’s thighs sticky symphony. Mirror check: cheeks flushed, lips bee-stung, tee translucent over bite-marked tits. Ached deliciously—cunt throbbing, ass bruised grips. Hormones raged tsunami; Marcus fought urge to finger self senseless.
Phone buzzed—Sasha: “Where tf r u? Expo starts! Need my ride-or-die.” Number unknown but vibe matched. Marcus smirked, typed: “Coming hot. Bring toys?” Hit send, wheeled to Sasha’s loft over the parlor.
Sasha flung door—tall ebony goddess, dreads rainbow-tipped, piercings glinting on full lips, DD rack spilling crop top, micro-shorts cameltoeing. “Bitch, you late! And… glowin’? Spill.”
Inside haze of incense and ink, walls murals of skulls fucking roses. Sasha poured tequila shots—burn sharp on tongue. Marcus eyed her: ass like planet, thighs thunder. Hormones peaked; pussy wept fresh.
“Test was wild. Instructor wrecked me.” Leaned in, breath ghosting ear. Sasha’s eyes lit feral. “Pics? Vids?”
“Better—demo.” Marcus shoved, lips crashing. Tongues battled tequila-fire, hands roving. Tore tops; Sasha’s chocolate nipples suckled hard, milk-sweet. Pushed to couch, sixty-nine dive—Sasha’s bald slit dripping honey, clit ring winking. Lapped frantic, nose buried musk, her pierced tongue spearing ass.
“Eat that ass, queen!” Sasha bucked, fingers four-deep in Lila’s hole, g-spot hammered. Scissored savage—cunts grinding sloppy weld, clit-fucks electric. Strap-on unpacked—harnessed beast, 10-inch ridged black. Sasha bent her doggy, reamed balls-deep, tattoo gun humming forgotten backdrop.
Orgasms piled—squirts painting murals, screams echoing loft. Collapsed tangled, cum-sheets pooling. “Expo? Fuck it. Round two?” Sasha purred.
Expo Edge: Public Tease
They staggered to convention—truck cab reeking sex. Ink stalls pulsed bass, bodies oiled inked grinding. Back booth, Sasha dared: “Flash for free tats.” Marcus hiked skirt, strangers wolf-whistled, phones flashed. Victor there? Nah, but a biker crew circled—tatts demonic.
One, Jax—bearded giant, cock-bulge obscene—pinned wall. “Fresh meat?” Sasha egged: “Gangbang her.” Marcus submitted haze—jaws stuffed twin dicks, salty-vein throbs; pussy ass double-stuffed, stretch impossible bliss. Cum bukkake mask, swallowed liters. Badges earned: “Slut Certified.”
Chapter 4: Echoes of Flesh
Dusk bled purple over dunes as Marcus drove Lila’s truck home, body wrecked rapture—bruises blooming purple, cunt gaping wind-whistled, taste of ten loads lingering. Amulet tugged skin, soul straining original husk waiting inside.
Stepped in; his body stirred on couch, eyes vacant. Touched arm—snap back. Lila’s form slumped puppet. Marcus cradled her upstairs, tucked bed, necklace stashed. But ache lingered—his cock raged tent, dreams flooded Lila’s memories bleeding through.
Night fractured sleep. Lila woke raging—texts to Sasha praising “best day eva,” but gut twisted violation unknown. Marcus downstairs, brewed coffee black, pondered. Wife due tomorrow. Used sparingly, witch warned. But taste… intoxicating.
Poolside dawn, Lila stormed out bikini-minimal, red curls wet. “Test? Passed how?” Voice edged suspicion. Marcus grinned casual. “Drove like pro. Truck’s yours.”
She mounted chrome beast, peeled out—destination? Unknown. Marcus watched, amulet burning pocket.
Storm’s Simmer
Inner Lila: body betrayed bliss, flashes Victor’s rut, Sasha’s strap, bikers’ floods. Craved repeat, fingers circling nub shower-steam. Marcus sensed echo—possession left ghost hunger.
Evening, Elena called: “Flight delayed. Party tomorrow?” Lila begged girls’ night. Marcus nodded, but eyes shadowed lust.
Chapter 5: Double Venom
Can’t stop. Midnight, necklace donned anew. Lila asleep post-masturbate, sheets pussy-scent heavy. Touch forehead—slip in smooth. Eyes fluttered hers; body electric renewed, clit throbbing hello.
Texted Victor: “Rig ride? Quarry encore.” Drove night roads, stars pricks salt air. He waited, truck aglow. Cab fuck-fest: tit-slapped, throat-fucked till gags, piledriver creampie till overflow.
“Your hole’s addiction.” Victor grunted, ass-fisting added—knuckle-deep twist, prostate milk his load endless.
Sasha’s next—threesome summoned. Loft orgy: Victor strap-pegged by Sasha, Lila airtight gang—mouth, pussy, ass symphony slaps. Dawn broke cum-crusted.
Back home, Elena arrived early. Marcus panicked—in Lila, heard key. Hid balcony, heart thunder. Elena entered, hubby-body stirring confused. “Lila? Marcus?”
Stuck—hormones peaked frenzy. Fingered shadows, juices dripping boards till Elena slept.
Taboo Threshold
Desperation: Possess Elena? No—direct Lila lure. Morning, kitchen Elena-coffee steam. Marcus-in-Lila brushed accidental—zap to wife. Tall lithe frame, blonde waves, yoga-toned. Hubby-body now Lila-piloted? Chaos.
But lust overrode. Felt Elena’s subtle wetness chronic. Lured “Marcus” (true Lila trapped?) to bedroom pretext talk.
Exploded: tongues war, Elena’s peg-handled, Lila’s fists plunged. Incest ghost—step tangled raw.
Chapter 6: Shattered Souls
Cycles blurred days—Marcus hopping shells, Lila fragmented haze, Elena addicted phantom highs. Truck quarry threesomes weekly, Sasha’s loft porn-hub weekly. Bodies swapped cum-leaked, asses wrecked prolapse-tease, throats raw gallons.
Conflicts brewed: Lila suspected body-theft, tattoos marking possessions. Victor blackmailed vids. Elena discovered amulet peeking.
Climax cliffside: all confronted. Marcus revealed, donned full. Quad-orgy unleashed—no bounds. Fucked possessed shells, soul-echo moans layered. DP trains, fisting marathons, squirting oceans cliff-spray mix.
“Merge forever?” Lila begged, hilted reverse-cowgirl. Marcus roared cum, amulet shattered climax-spark. Souls blurred edge—love, lust, taboo fused eternal.
Faded: bodies true, memories shared filthy lore. Dawn kissed scars. Coastal wind whispered secrets kept. Truck gleamed driveway—new rides endless. 💋🔥
