The Turning: Part Five

Dr. Elixir lifts her head from the packaging specs when the orderly shoves Halle, Cassie and Blaire inside. Their skin’s still shiny with the mess from before, eyes wide and glassy. The Doctor smiles. Her pet Halle got it done, just like she was taught. She snaps her fingers, dismisses the orderly, and the door locks behind him. First test: she slides a glossy men’s magazine across the table. Three faces twist in disgust, soft grunts of revulsion, no hesitation. She ticks the box on her clipboard. Second test hits harder. She pulls a dripping pair of panties from her lab coat and holds them up. The girls’ pupils blow wide, tongues press against their lips, pussy juice shines on their thighs. She drops the cotton to the floor. They scramble on all fours, elbows knocking, nails digging, desperate to taste what’s left of that sweet soak. Blaire wins, jerks the fabric free, shoves it in her mouth, sucks it like she’s starving. The other two look up at their mistress, lips shiny, panting, begging for more. Dr. Elixir shrugs off the coat. It pools around her heels and there she stands—bare breasts heavy, cunt glistening under the fluorescents. The girls lunge. Mouths fasten to her folds, tongues dive in, slick sounds echo off the tile. Fingers slide everywhere—clits, assholes, open mouths swapping spit and slick. The Doctor rides their faces, grinds her hips, makes damn sure her serum turns them, but also keeps her dripping and sated. She comes in pulses, floods their mouths, then pushes them back, panting orders. When their jaws ache and tongues slow, she tells them to clean up. Dessert waits. Sara—the sweet little virgin best friend they’ve begged for since day one. Cassie and Blaire follow the orderly out. Halle lingers. Dr. Elixir cups her chin, kisses the girl’s damp forehead, and whispers tonight’s bonus mission.