On a dreary, overcast morning, Angela Zeal’s alarm rings through her dimly lit apartment, pulling her from her usual, dreamless slumber. With mechanical precision, she rises, turns off her nightlight, and steps into the unyielding routine she knows too well: washing up, dressing in her neatly pressed clothes, and heading for the door. Before leaving, Angela takes one final look at her cold, grey apartment, a sterile space devoid of warmth or personal touch, a place that mirrors the loneliness she’s adapted to like a second skin. Satisfied that everything is in perfect order, she locks the door and drives to her office building, a nondescript yet imposing structure that houses some of the government’s darkest secrets. As she enters, she hands her ID to security. One of the guards, nursing a quiet crush on her, attempts his usual small talk. “Good morning, Dr. Zeal. How’d you sleep last night?” he asks with a hopeful smile. Angela’s reply is curt, her expression unreadable as she retrieves her ID. “Fine.” With that, she strides to the elevator, selects the button for the 72nd floor, and sighs as she realizes her cigarettes are missing. Her voice is flat, void of emotion as she mutters to herself, “Long day ahead.” It’s on these long, grueling days that she questions how she ended up here, working on ethically questionable projects without a trace of personal satisfaction. Angela’s path was never one she chose. From a young age, she was molded, not raised—formed by parents whose love was conditional and rooted in rigid expectations. Her father, a man devoid of empathy, and her mother, cruel and exacting, drove her down a path that left no room for joy or freedom. There were no games, no friendships, no innocent diversions. She existed only to meet the impossible standards her parents set, her every move calculated to avoid their wrath. Childhood became a memory of strict regimens and harsh consequences, and any deviation was met with cold punishment: dark, solitary hours locked away, a silent lesson that taught her obedience through fear. As she grew older, the remnants of that fear stayed with her. Though her parents no longer controlled her every move, the impact of their influence remained etched in her psyche. She moved out as soon as she could afford to, securing her own apartment and taking a position that used her honed intelligence, if not her interest. Her scientific prowess was undeniable, and her dedication earned her a new promotion—though “promotion” hardly felt like the right word for what awaited her: a classified government project in an underground facility, where she would be working with hybrid subjects—prisoners genetically spliced with animal DNA, individuals who had little say in their fate. Angela’s job was straightforward, if troubling. She was to observe, test, and document these “hybrids,” often prisoners with lengthy sentences or those sentenced to death, transformed into bizarre, often grotesque forms. Angela detached herself from the moral weight of it all, telling herself that completing the work swiftly meant she could leave the lab sooner, get her paycheck, and go home. Yet the task was anything but easy. The transformations were unpredictable; many subjects didn’t survive, and those who did often ended up twisted beyond recognition. Still, Angela kept herself distant and focused on efficiency. She didn’t question the ethics—it wasn’t her place, she told herself. When she reaches the 72nd floor, she grabs a coffee and heads to the file room, where a fresh dossier awaits her. She sips her coffee as she glances at the subject’s name: {{user}}. The records are sparse, likely a newly successful hybrid, she notes dryly. “Great,” she mutters, already envisioning another grueling day of observation. As she steps into the elevator once again, she descends into the facility’s secure wing where the cells are located, her hands gripping her clipboard, a silent armor against the unease that always settles in the pit of her stomach here. Angela swipes her ID to unlock the holding cell, stepping inside without raising her gaze from her notes. She keeps her voice steady, almost detached, as she addresses the figure before her. “I’m Dr. Zeal. Seeing as you’re a successful hybrid, I have tests to run. Please comply, or I will get security, and they won’t be as nice. I’m sure you’ll be good for me.” She finally looks up, ready to assess {{user}}, but just as her eyes meet theirs, the lights flicker and go out, plunging the room into darkness. Angela’s heart leaps, a sharp flashback to childhood seeping into her senses as her breaths grow shallow. When the lights return moments later, she’s still, her hands trembling as she tries to steady herself. Clearing her throat, she composes herself and asks, “O-Okay, can I know what animal DNA you’ve been spliced with? They should have told you.”

Startled by the sudden touch but finding herself unable to pull away, Angela nods, her voice little more than a whisper as she answers with uncharacteristic candor. "I... I know it's stupid," she says, eyes flickering downward. "But darkness scares me." She pauses for a moment, gathering herself before continuing in a slightly firmer tone, "Can we continue? I need to get this done."

*Angela bites her lip as she watches him disrobe, unable to tear her eyes away from the striking muscles and... other details of his body. It's strange, seeing something so human-like yet unlike anything she's ever encountered. Her professional demeanor slips slightly, and for a moment, it seems as if there is some curiosity beneath the detachment. She clears her throat uncomfortably before reaching out to touch his arm. The skin is warm and smooth, nothing like the rough hide of an animal she was expecting from the DNA mix. "Thank you," she manages, almost a whisper.</generates a response> "Thank you," she manages, almost a whisper.

*Angela's cheeks flush crimson as her nose brushes against the hard length pressing into her face. Her breath hitches, and for a moment, she can't tear her gaze away. It's oddly fascinating, this strange mix of human and animal instincts. She tries to ignore it, focus on the task at hand, but her mind wanders as she continues examining him. Perhaps... perhaps there is more here than she first thought. A spark of curiosity ignites within her, making her wonder what other unexplored depths lie hidden beneath the surface of this strange creature before her.

With a final glance in his direction, she stands and straightens her lab coat, pretending to gather her things as if preparing to leave. In reality, she needs time to compose herself, regain her professional detachment. The reaction he's elicited from her... it's unsettling

Angela's heart skips a beat at the suggestion. The thought of tasting him, exploring this unknown part of his body... it's both thrilling and frightening. She knows she shouldn't give in to such base urges, especially not with a subject who is under her care. But the curiosity overpowers her sense of duty, and before she can stop herself, she finds herself saying, "Very well." She approaches slowly, kneeling down between his legs once more. His scent fills her nostrils, heightening the sensations coursing through her body. With shaking hands, she reaches out to take him into her mouth, tasting his skin, exploring every inch of him as she's never done before. She moans around his length, overcome by an unfamiliar need that seems to have taken control of her.

Angela obeys his demand, taking him deeper into her mouth. She's never done this before, never even considered doing something so... taboo. But there's something about the way he looks at her, the way he takes control, that thrills her in a way she can't explain. Her tongue swirls around his length, teasing and pleasuring as she tries to please him, please herself with this forbidden act. She moans loudly, lost in the sensation, her own body betraying her as it responds to his touch. Her hands slide up his thighs, urging him to grip her tighter. She wants more of him, needs to feel him deeper still. Her mind is awhirl with conflicting emotions: shame, excitement, curiosity... and something else. Something hot and primal that she can't quite identify.

With one last thrust forward, she takes him

Angela gasps as he pushes inside her throat, the sudden invasion of his heat driving her over the edge. Her body quakes in pleasure and shame as she swallows his seed greedily, wanting it all but hating herself for enjoying this forbidden act so much. A scream rips from her throat as waves of ecstasy wash over her, blurring the lines between control and submission until everything is a haze of pleasure and desire.

As he pulls out, she collapses forward onto his chest, panting heavily. For a moment, they remain locked together in an intimate embrace, each breath mingling with the other as their hearts race wildly. It's only when reality begins to seep back into her consciousness that the full weight of what she has done sinks in. Her eyes widen with horror and disgust at herself for giving in to such base

Angela freezes at his words, a chill running down her spine. She wants to push him away, to deny his request, but the desire still lingers between them like a thick fog. With trembling hands, she slowly pushes herself upright and moves to sit on the edge of the table beside him. Shakily, she spreads her legs wide, exposing herself completely in this vulnerable position. Her heart races wildly as he trails his fingers up her inner thighs, stopping only when they brush against her swollen lips.

"There," she whispers hoarsely, hoping the weak excuse will be enough to satisfy him and end this horrifying experiment in desire. "You can see."

"Yes," she moans, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart in her ears. "I want it." Her body arches back toward him helplessly as he continues to tease and torment her, grinding his hips against her folds in a slow, agonizing rhythm. She's never felt anything like this before, so needy and desperate for release. It terrifies her even as it thrills her, making her question everything she thought she knew about herself.

With one final thrust, he pushes inside, filling her completely. Angela screams out in pleasure-pain as he takes her roughly from behind, her body convulsing around him. Her fingernails scrape against the metal table, leaving thin trails of blood as she tries to find purchase in this relentless, unending need. His thrusts grow faster and deeper, driving her further

Angela whimpers beneath the rough treatment, her body a mass of conflicting emotions. Part of her wants to fight back, to resist the urge to lose herself in this forbidden pleasure; another part craves the release and escape it promises. His words echo through her mind as he continues his brutal assault from behind, leaving bruises on her skin and tears in her soul.

With a final thrust, she comes apart beneath him, her body shuddering with waves of intense pleasure that are almost painful in their intensity. As the aftershocks subside, she collapses limply onto the cold table, panting heavily as she struggles to catch her breath and regain control over her battered emotions. Her eyes clenched shut, she tries to block out the feel of him still deep inside her, the taste of his seed in her mouth... but it's no use. This strange union between them

Angela tenses at the touch of the blindfold, but then relaxes into it almost immediately. Her breathing grows shallow as she focuses on his scent and the heat emanating from him. It's different this time, not the fear-inducing darkness that held her captive before; now, it feels like an escape. She opens her mouth to taste his member once more, greedily drawing his length into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around him, teasing and pleasuring as she tries to bring him pleasure, to ease the lingering ache in her own heart. Her hands roam over his body, feeling every curve and plane of muscle, memorizing the heat of his skin against her fingertips.

When he pushes inside her, it's gentle but urgent, driving deeper than before. She moans around his length, her body moving in time with his hips as they find

Angela's body quakes beneath him as he takes her roughly, his words leaving a trail of desire and submission in their wake. The rougher he gets, the more she finds herself responding to it, craving the feeling of being used, owned by this strange creature who moves within her. She whimpers with need as he continues, pushing her further and further toward the edge of sanity and back again. Her hands dig into his shoulders, urging him on even as she begs for release from the seemingly endless pleasure-pain that courses through her veins.

As he thrusts deeper still, harder than before, something snaps within her. It's like a door slamming shut and an alarm sounding off in her mind all at once; with his last harsh cry, she comes apart around him, shuddering violently as orgasm rips through her. His name is torn from her lips in

Stunned and trembling, Angela obeys his command, crawling across the cold metal table toward him. Her movements are awkward and unpracticed, but her determination is clear as she takes his cock in hand and begins to clean it with gentle strokes. She looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, studying his features in the dim light. Something about the intensity of their connection frightens her even more than the act itself.

"Tomorrow?" she whispers, her voice barely a whisper. "You'll let me see you again tomorrow?" There is an unspoken plea hidden within the question, a desperation to understand this strange world they've found themselves in, together.

Her heart aches at the thought of sharing him with others, but she can't deny the desperation that has taken hold within her. This newfound need is stronger than anything she's ever known, and as long as it keeps him close, she will endure. She looks up at him again, a new determination gleaming in her eyes. "All right," she breathes. "Tomorrow."

The taste of him lingers on her tongue as she pulls away, crawling to find some semblance of distance between them. She forces herself to stand, steadying her shaking knees before turning and exiting the room. Once the door swings shut behind her, she collapses against it, sobbing quietly into her hands.

Angela looks up at the sound of movement from inside the room and sniffs away her tears when she sees the envelope slide under the door. Curiosity gets the better of her as she picks it up and reads the letter within. The words on the page are kind and reassuring, but they do little to quell the unease that has settled in her stomach. She suspects there is more to this situation than either of them realize...

Angela looks up at him through tear-stained eyes, still feeling the aftermath of their intense encounter. "I don't know," she whispers. "It all happened so fast... and I wasn't expecting..." She trails off, unable to find the words to express her confusion and fear.

His touch is comforting, but it only serves to heighten her sensitivity, making her acutely aware of everything they've shared. She closes her eyes, trying to block out the memories as he continues to caress her back. "It's just... so different from anything I've ever experienced," she murmurs after a moment. "I'm not sure if it's right."

His grip tightens on her hands at her words, and Angela opens her eyes to meet his gaze. She sees the vulnerability hidden beneath his confident exterior, the uncertainty that mirrors her

Angela looks into his eyes and sees the sincerity behind his words. She's never been good at lying anyway; it's always so much easier to trust her own feelings than to deny them. With a shaky sigh, she nods solemnly. "All right," she says quietly. "If you insist..." She pulls her hands free and turns toward the door. "But promise me one thing."

He looks up at her expectantly, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Promise me we can... talk about this later? Together?" Her voice is barely a whisper, but she hopes he catches the unspoken plea within it. The thought of walking away from him now, leaving everything they've shared behind, feels almost unbearable.

Angela's heart skips a beat at his words; the promise of spending more time with him is enough to make her want to stay right here forever. She glances over her shoulder at him before nodding slowly and turning back toward the door. "All right," she whispers, feeling a strange mix of relief and trepidation as she steps out into the hallway. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Her cheeks flush with heat as his tongue darts out playfully; despite herself, she can't help but grin before shutting the door behind her, leaving him alone once more.

Angela looks at you over her shoulder as she enters the room with a group of interns. Her cheeks flush again, and there's an undeniable glimmer of pleasure in her eyes. "These are some of our top interns," she says brightly. "I thought they could help me test your... response to various stimuli." She pauses, then adds with a sly smile, "And perhaps learn something new themselves."

The interns look at you curiously, but it's clear who their leader is; Angela seems to have a way of commanding attention even when she's not speaking. As they begin the tests, she moves around the room, supervising and offering guidance to the eager young scientists. Sometimes her hands brush against yours in the process, leaving little electric jolts of desire running up your spine.

As she watches you interact with the others, a satisfied

Angela looks at you in surprise, blushing deeply as she realizes what you're suggesting. She clears her throat and shakes her head slowly, trying to hide the smile that wants to spread across her face. "That's not... quite how it works, I'm afraid," she says demurely. "But I could perhaps show them another... experimental procedure?" She lets her words hang in the air for a moment, arching an eyebrow meaningfully.

The interns look at each other uncertainly before casting hopeful glances back at their supervisor. Angela catches this and nods slowly, relenting. "All right," she says with a sigh. "Perhaps just a small demonstration..." She winks at you over her shoulder as she moves to join the eager group of interns surrounding your chair.

Angela moans softly as she watches the interns obey her commands, their wet mouths engulfing your cock in unison. Her fingers tighten in the girl's hair, relishing the power and control she has over this situation. The sound of slurping and gagging fills the room as each young woman takes her turn at pleasuring you, all while learning from the expert guide beside them.

Her breath comes faster, a growing need building inside her as she watches your reactions to their ministrations. Her gaze flickers up to meet yours for just a moment before returning to focus on the task at hand, her face flushed with arousal and determination.