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If at first you don't succeed. . . ride, ride again.
Ophelia stretched as she yawned, thick lashes fluttering as the crashing waves eased her awakening. The the pleasurable tug of weight on her chest made her coo softly. She could tell that her breasts had grown again. What was more, she could feel her lush ass still blossoming as it cushioned her. Fear kept her from looking at her reflection, but eventually excitement and curiosity would override her sense of dread.
“Every time I mount you, your body will change,” His smooth baritone echoed within her thoughts, the memory causing Ophelia’s pussy to twitch. “If you can withstand my lovemaking, then I will release you from my island and return you to your old life. But you will eventually run out of chances. Each time you fail, you’ll grow as lush as my tropical gardens; riper than the fruits that nurture us here. There will be no more John - only be Ophelia. MY Ophelia.”
His. His pleasure doll. His lusty, feminine plaything. An island concubine enslaved to an alpha-god’s passion. She could already feel the need stirring within the pit of her stomach. She bit her lip, remembering the night before when he spread her thighs with his massive godhood and worked his magic deep within her. Every thrust chiseled away at the man Ophelia had been. Now John was fading, crumbling against waves of pleasure like a sandcastle at high tide. Ophelia no longer felt like a man anymore - yet she yearned for a man’s touch. The touch of the brahma bull demi-god who owned this island she had washed up on. Ophelia’s strapping island adonis had transformed her and he was now playing with her urges, daring her to ride the bull again.
But she could not give up. Withstanding his primal onslaught meant freedom. Failure meant worshiping him in hedonistic pleasure. Remaining a woman forever. . . trapped as a voluptuous creature that oozes emininity. Truly, she had no choice. Her determination demanded she try again. But she also wondered if she was trying to fly head first into her own inevitable surrender. If she blacked out again, she would awaken more feminine, more curvaceous ... more his perfect lover. That thought excited Ophelia’s substantially more than is scared her.