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Soil Reclamation - Part 4-8
🕑 Added 2026-02-09 14:00:23 +0000 UTCThe whole story is on the Discord server.
The bathroom in Pine Bluff turned out to be tiny, with chipped tiles where mold was already creeping out in the corners. Monica — or rather, Arthur — stood in front of the mirror over the sink with a panicked look on her face. The cheap white nightgown, bought apparently for this apartment, barely covered her massive hips, and the thin straps dug into her shoulders under the weight of her tits, which hung like two heavy, unruly fruits.
Her long blond hair, recently tied into a neat bun, was now messy and falling over her face, getting caught in her lashes and making it hard to look at her… at this reflection. She threw it back, but it fell onto her shoulders again right away, tickling the skin on her boobs, whose nipples were still too sensitive from Derek’s touches.
— Come on… pick up the phone, — she whispered, fixing the slipped strap of the nightgown she had been forced to put on after her consciousness finally returned and she realized she was lying completely naked on the bed next to Derek, who was scrolling through something on his phone, humming under his breath.
She dialed the professor’s number again. The phone on the other end stayed silent. Rings. Long, monotone, like tapping right on her nerves. And in her head, like slides from someone else’s unwanted movie, memories of this day spun around — of all those moans, the humiliating but so damn pleasing positions, of how Derek…
She jerked her head sharply, trying to shake these thoughts out of herself, because she felt her body starting to react to those memories again. Her skin broke out in goosebumps. Between her legs, deep inside, that same familiar spark was igniting. A spark she had never felt in Arthur Graham’s body.
— Answer, you bastard, — she hissed through her teeth, staring at her reflection, and at that moment the bathroom door swung open.
Derek stood in the doorway in a white short-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned a little above his chest and showing his chest hair, and a satisfied smile played on his face.
— What’s taking you so long? — he asked, his voice soft but with a demanding edge. — I was starting to worry you drowned in there.
