Why didn't they ask me? Why should I let this... this host just fuck my cock? Why should I breed her?Fuck her. And not literally, metaphorically. I was fuming.“What are you going to do, Becky?” Kurt asked. He stood up, his face hard, stony.I folded my arms before my chest. I opened my mouth to answer when the door opened. I whirled around to face Shane. The producer didn't look perturbed at all to see me with my futa-cock thrusting out before me. “Okay, Becky, we're ready for you,” he said. “Let's go.”“Good,” I said, words clipped, my blood boiling through me. I wasn't hard at all. I would stay soft. For once, I wouldn't have sex with a woman aching to be bred!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~April 17th, 2047I had forgotten just how angry Amelia McCreery's trick had made me. It was so interesting the way time affected your memory. It blunted things, softened them so they didn't seem as bad as they felt, but talking about it again, being in the green room and realizing I was secretly. I sighed in my head.“Okay, see you at lunch, Sis,” I replied, giving her back a look that said I knew that I was in shit, and I accepted it and that I loved her with every fiber of my being.The closer that we got to the school counselor’s office, the more CC started to tremble. I put my arm around her waist and walked with her, doing my best to comfort her.“It’ll be okay, CC, trust me. Okay, sweetie?” I said with confidence.“I ... I trust you, David,” she sighed brokenly.We got to Mrs. Sullivan’s door and knocked. After a few seconds, she opened the door and beckoned us in, shutting the door behind us. She gestured for us to take a seat in the two plastic chairs in front of her desk. She was a kind-looking statuesque lady of middling age. She had streaks of iron-grey through her hair, which was pulled up into a tight bun on the top of her head. She wore small brown spectacles balanced on the tip of her perky nose, and her thick lips were covered in bright red lipstick. She smelled of.
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