Emma's new red dress had been a mistake.
It clung to her curves like a second skin, the neckline dangerously low, teasing the swell of her breasts with every breath. Willbert had already felt his tiny body reacting the moment she lifted him from his crib that morning, her perfume thick in the air, her warmth radiating through the thin fabric that barely contained her. He had been painfully aware of how fuckable she looked today, and that had set something off in him; an insistent, unbearable tension between his legs that demanded something.
By the time she settled onto the bed for his morning feeding, he was practically vibrating with impatience. He didn't just want to nurse. He wanted to break her.
And oh, he did.
Emma had barely loosened the front of her dress before his tiny hands were grasping, his mouth latching onto her nipple with a ravenous hunger that went beyond just milk. He sucked, hard, deep pulls that made her gasp. He then twisted his tongue in rhythmic circles, a technique he had refined through months of testing her limits. He knew what his mother liked.
Her fingers fisted in his fine hair, her breath hitching. "W-Willbert, not so rough! Please!"
He ignored her, doubling down, alternating between ruthless suction and sharp nibbles until her body locked up beneath him. Her toes curled. Her thighs squeezed together. A shaky, shameless moan slipped past her lips, and he felt the moment control slipped from her grasp. Her back arched off the chair, pushing her tits into his face, her head thrown back in broken pleasure as wave after wave of forced euphoria wracked her body.
And then, to his genuine surprise….
She passed out.
Emma slumped back with a soft whimper, her eyes fluttering shut, her body limp.
Willbert pulled back, blinking.
Well. That was new.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face.
And very good to know.
His triumph, however, was short-lived. The moment Emma fell unconscious, the throbbing between his legs flared, sharp and insistent, demanding attention. His diaper was already soaked; not from piss, but from the thick, sticky precum leaking from his erection.
He knew he had a problem.
A big one.
Willbert was barely two years into this second life, but his body was betraying him. His dick, which had been a minor nuisance before, was now a full-blown ordeal. Every feeding left him aching, the skin stretched tight, the veins standing out in angry relief. And today?
Today, it was worse.
He wriggled in Emma's slack arms, fighting to free himself. When he finally managed to roll onto the bed beside her, he wasted no time. Tiny fingers hooked into the waistband of his diaper, yanking it down-
And there it was.
His cock.
Four inches of thick, red flesh, jutting proudly from his baby body, glistening with precum.
This was definitely not normal infant anatomy.
Magic? Reincarnation side effect?
He didn't care. Right now, all he knew was that it hurt, and he had an unconscious, defenseless woman right in front of him.
Willbert grinned.
"Time to return the favor, mommy," He thought.
He scooted closer, maneuvering his hips until the swollen head of his cock pressed against Emma's slack lips. With one hand, he pried her mouth open.
Then shoved inside.
The moment his dick slid between her lips, Emma sucked.
An instinctual reflex, deep-rooted, and perfect.
Willbert groaned, his tiny body trembling as her warm mouth enveloped him. He didn't wait; he fucked her, thrusting his hips as best he could, driving his length deeper, reveling in the wet heat of her throat. His fingers dug into her hair, gripping tight, forcing her to take every inch.
And god, she took it.
Her body remained limp, her breathing shallow, but her lips moved around him, her tongue rolling beneath the rhythmic intrusion of his cock.
He looked down, watching her bare tits jiggle with every thrust, the peaked nipples begging to be touched. He reached out, grabbing one roughly, pinching the stiff bud between his thumb and forefinger.
He came.
His orgasm hit him like a lightning bolt, his hips jerking erratically as hot ropes of cum pumped into Emma's mouth, flooding past her lips, spilling onto her tongue. His eyes rolled back, his whole body convulsing with pleasure so intense, it almost hurt.
Holy shit. He had to do that again.
Gasping, he rocked back, sliding his slick cock from Emma's mouth with a wet pop. He quickly readjusted his diaper, tucking himself away just as Emma's eyelashes fluttered.
She woke with a sharp cough, her hand flying to her lips as she tasted bitter salt. Jizz sprayed out from between her lips, splashing down onto her jiggling tits.
Oh.
God.
Her confused, dazed eyes flicked down, seeing the sticky white liquid still dripping from her chin, pooling between her exposed breasts.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, gagging slightly.
"What in the…?"
Her gaze darted around the room. No one else was here.
Except-
Willbert cooed up at her, blinking wide, innocent eyes.
Emma stared.
Then, slowly, shook her head.
No. No. That was impossible.
He was just a baby.
Swallowing hard, she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, then grabbed a nearby cloth, hastily cleaning the mess off her chest.
Willbert watched, silent, satisfied.
She would never know.
And he?
He loved that.
Emma's mind spun as sticky, bitter warmth clung to her skin. She scrubbed at her chest with trembling hands, the cloth catching on her stiff nipples as she wiped away the thick fluid still dripping between her tits. Someone had been in her room. Someone had violated her while she slept.
Her fingers dug into the damp fabric. Arnold? No. He'd ridden out at dawn to inspect the village's granaries. The household staff were all women, save for the stablemaster, who was nearly eighty.
Her gaze snapped to the diamond-paned window.
Willy knelt in the garden below, his lanky frame bent over the rose bushes, his sunburnt neck glistening with sweat.
The garden boy.
Her knuckles whitened around the cloth. Thirteen, maybe fourteen; old enough. And those furtive glances he stole whenever she passed, always lingering too long on the sway of her hips or the deep cut of her bodice. He was the only male in the manor grounds. It had to be him. But how? The doors were locked. The maids were everywhere. Unless…
Unless he'd hidden. Waited.
Emma threw the soiled cloth onto the bed and stormed downstairs, her skirts snapping around her ankles as she marched through the manicured hedges. The moment his shadow shifted into view, she snapped.
"Willy."
The boy flinched so hard his pruning shears clattered to the gravel. "M-M'lady!" His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes darted. First to her face, then lower, to where her breath made her bodice rise and fall.
Emma seized his wrist, her grip like iron. "Look at me." Teeth clenched, she dragged him behind the towering laurel bushes, far from prying windows. "Tell me the truth. Did you sneak into my chambers?"
His face paled. "N-No! I'd never!"
"Liar." Her free hand flicked to her bodice, yanking the fabric just low enough to expose the faint, tacky streaks still glistening on her skin. "This is what you did to me. Admit it."
"I swear, ma'am! I'd never do such a thing!"
She moved before thought caught up. One hand fisted in his coarse linen shirt, the other went straight for his belt. "If you won't confess, I'll learn the truth myself."
Willy made a strangled noise as she shoved his britches down to his knees. His cock sprang free; not fully hard, but twitching, already leaking under her furious gaze. Emma didn't hesitate. She dropped to her knees in the damp grass, fingers wrapping around him, and pumped.
"Wait… ah! M'lady! Fuck!"
His hips jerked. His cock swelled under her grip, veins bulging as she worked him with rough, impatient strokes. She didn't care how wrong this was. She needed to know.
Once he was fully hard, she leaned in, lips parting.
And swallowed him whole.
Willy cried out, fingers scrabbling in the air as her mouth enveloped him. Emma sucked, forcing her throat to open, her tongue flattening against the underside of his shaft as she bobbed ruthlessly. Saliva dripped down her chin. His hips bucked, driving deeper, and she let him, fucking her face with every thrust until her nostrils brushed his sweat-damp curls.
She tasted earth. Salt. The sharp tang of adolescent arousal. Her own heartbeat pounded between her thighs, but she clenched her teeth. Ignore it, ignore it, this is for proof! And sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing.
There.
His breath hitched. His thighs tensed. With a ragged groan, he came. A hot, bitter flood that filled her mouth in thick pulses. Emma held still, letting it pool on her tongue, eyes squeezed shut as she compared the taste.
No.
This was too pungent, too salty.
Not what had been in her room.
She lurched back and spat into the grass, stomach churning. "Damn it."
Willy stared at her, panting, his softening cock twitching against his stomach. "M'lady, I… I told you, it wasn't-"
"I owe you an apology," she muttered. Then, before logic could stop her, she undid the laces of her bodice with rough jerks, letting her heavy tits spill free into the humid air.
Willy's mouth fell open.
"I falsely accused you," Emma said, stepping closer. "Let me... make it right."
His cock jumped, already hardening again.
She pressed her breasts together around him, her flesh warm and yielding as she dragged them up his shaft. The boy whimpered, hands clutching at her shoulders as she worked him in slow, slick strokes.
"You like this, don't you?" Emma whispered, the words thick with borrowed filth as she squeezed her tits tighter around Willy's twitching cock. "A noblewoman groveling in the dirt… begging to get off on a gardener's prick." Her thumbs circled the leaking head, smearing precum down her flushed skin.
The boy shuddered, his breath ragged. "M-M'lady, you shouldn't-"
"Shouldn't what? Tell you how slutty I am?" Emma arched forward, letting her stiff nipples drag against his shaft. "How I wet myself when you stare at me across the courtyard? How I dream about being bent over your wheelbarrow?" Her tongue flicked out, catching a bead of salt at his tip. "Go on. Fuck them."
Willy lurched forward, hips snapping, his cock pistoning between her straining cleavage. "Fuck! Fuck!"
"Say it," she murmured. "Tell me what I am."
"Y-You're-" He choked as a pearl of precum oozed from his tip. "A slut."
The word sent an electric jolt through her belly. "Louder."
"You're a nasty whore," he gasped, his hips thrusting greedily between her tits. "A filthy… fucking… skank!"
Emma's nipples ached. She could feel herself dripping, shame and arousal twisting together as she spat into her cleavage, letting the mess slide down his shaft. "Cum for me," she ordered. "Paint your lady like the bitch she is!"
Willy screamed, his back arching as he came; not just spurts, but a deluge, ropes of white splattering her chin, her hair, her heaving chest. The sheer volume stunned her. It clung to her lashes, matted in her hair, dripped into the valley of her breasts.
Emma's chest heaved as she stared down at herself, her skin glazed white. The boy's spend dripped in thick ropes from her chin, sliding down the slope of her breasts to pool in the crease of her bodice. More of it clung in sticky webs across her collarbone, pearling at the hollow of her throat.
She dragged trembling fingers through the mess, her breath hitching. It was hot, almost burning, the sheer weight of it shocking. Some had splattered high, flecked across her cheekbone, tangled in her eyelashes. Another thick strand glistened in her hair, matting a golden curl against her temple.
Her gown was ruined. The delicate fabric was soaked through where his cum had splashed, the once-pristine silk now clinging to her like a second skin, translucent in places. She pressed her palm to her sternum, smearing it further, watching as her fingers came away webbed with strands that stretched and broke like syrup.
Willy stared, slack-jawed, as she licked a dollop from her own wrist. The taste; it was musky, earthy, and made her stomach clench. Her nipple, still stiff beneath the mess, brushed her arm, and she shuddered.
God. Look at me.
Drenched. Debauched. Disgusting.
And worse, she didn't want it to end.
But end it did; her perverse adventure was over.
The boy staggered back, his face flushed, his pants still tangled around his ankles. Emma stood, silent, staring down at the ruin of her dress, her skin, her dignity.
"G-Go," she rasped.
He fled, a dopey smile on his face. He was eager to tell his friends about what had just transpired, though he doubted they would believe him.
For a long moment, she just stood there, sticky and reeking, her bodice hanging open, her breath hitching in useless little gasps. Then, with slow, mechanical movements, she retied what she could of her dress and crept toward the servants' entrance, praying to every god she knew that no one would see her.
That no one would know.
It clung to her curves like a second skin, the neckline dangerously low, teasing the swell of her breasts with every breath. Willbert had already felt his tiny body reacting the moment she lifted him from his crib that morning, her perfume thick in the air, her warmth radiating through the thin fabric that barely contained her. He had been painfully aware of how fuckable she looked today, and that had set something off in him; an insistent, unbearable tension between his legs that demanded something.
By the time she settled onto the bed for his morning feeding, he was practically vibrating with impatience. He didn't just want to nurse. He wanted to break her.
And oh, he did.
Emma had barely loosened the front of her dress before his tiny hands were grasping, his mouth latching onto her nipple with a ravenous hunger that went beyond just milk. He sucked, hard, deep pulls that made her gasp. He then twisted his tongue in rhythmic circles, a technique he had refined through months of testing her limits. He knew what his mother liked.
Her fingers fisted in his fine hair, her breath hitching. "W-Willbert, not so rough! Please!"
He ignored her, doubling down, alternating between ruthless suction and sharp nibbles until her body locked up beneath him. Her toes curled. Her thighs squeezed together. A shaky, shameless moan slipped past her lips, and he felt the moment control slipped from her grasp. Her back arched off the chair, pushing her tits into his face, her head thrown back in broken pleasure as wave after wave of forced euphoria wracked her body.
And then, to his genuine surprise….
She passed out.
Emma slumped back with a soft whimper, her eyes fluttering shut, her body limp.
Willbert pulled back, blinking.
Well. That was new.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face.
And very good to know.
His triumph, however, was short-lived. The moment Emma fell unconscious, the throbbing between his legs flared, sharp and insistent, demanding attention. His diaper was already soaked; not from piss, but from the thick, sticky precum leaking from his erection.
He knew he had a problem.
A big one.
Willbert was barely two years into this second life, but his body was betraying him. His dick, which had been a minor nuisance before, was now a full-blown ordeal. Every feeding left him aching, the skin stretched tight, the veins standing out in angry relief. And today?
Today, it was worse.
He wriggled in Emma's slack arms, fighting to free himself. When he finally managed to roll onto the bed beside her, he wasted no time. Tiny fingers hooked into the waistband of his diaper, yanking it down-
And there it was.
His cock.
Four inches of thick, red flesh, jutting proudly from his baby body, glistening with precum.
This was definitely not normal infant anatomy.
Magic? Reincarnation side effect?
He didn't care. Right now, all he knew was that it hurt, and he had an unconscious, defenseless woman right in front of him.
Willbert grinned.
"Time to return the favor, mommy," He thought.
He scooted closer, maneuvering his hips until the swollen head of his cock pressed against Emma's slack lips. With one hand, he pried her mouth open.
Then shoved inside.
The moment his dick slid between her lips, Emma sucked.
An instinctual reflex, deep-rooted, and perfect.
Willbert groaned, his tiny body trembling as her warm mouth enveloped him. He didn't wait; he fucked her, thrusting his hips as best he could, driving his length deeper, reveling in the wet heat of her throat. His fingers dug into her hair, gripping tight, forcing her to take every inch.
And god, she took it.
Her body remained limp, her breathing shallow, but her lips moved around him, her tongue rolling beneath the rhythmic intrusion of his cock.
He looked down, watching her bare tits jiggle with every thrust, the peaked nipples begging to be touched. He reached out, grabbing one roughly, pinching the stiff bud between his thumb and forefinger.
He came.
His orgasm hit him like a lightning bolt, his hips jerking erratically as hot ropes of cum pumped into Emma's mouth, flooding past her lips, spilling onto her tongue. His eyes rolled back, his whole body convulsing with pleasure so intense, it almost hurt.
Holy shit. He had to do that again.
Gasping, he rocked back, sliding his slick cock from Emma's mouth with a wet pop. He quickly readjusted his diaper, tucking himself away just as Emma's eyelashes fluttered.
She woke with a sharp cough, her hand flying to her lips as she tasted bitter salt. Jizz sprayed out from between her lips, splashing down onto her jiggling tits.
Oh.
God.
Her confused, dazed eyes flicked down, seeing the sticky white liquid still dripping from her chin, pooling between her exposed breasts.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, gagging slightly.
"What in the…?"
Her gaze darted around the room. No one else was here.
Except-
Willbert cooed up at her, blinking wide, innocent eyes.
Emma stared.
Then, slowly, shook her head.
No. No. That was impossible.
He was just a baby.
Swallowing hard, she wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, then grabbed a nearby cloth, hastily cleaning the mess off her chest.
Willbert watched, silent, satisfied.
She would never know.
And he?
He loved that.
Emma's mind spun as sticky, bitter warmth clung to her skin. She scrubbed at her chest with trembling hands, the cloth catching on her stiff nipples as she wiped away the thick fluid still dripping between her tits. Someone had been in her room. Someone had violated her while she slept.
Her fingers dug into the damp fabric. Arnold? No. He'd ridden out at dawn to inspect the village's granaries. The household staff were all women, save for the stablemaster, who was nearly eighty.
Her gaze snapped to the diamond-paned window.
Willy knelt in the garden below, his lanky frame bent over the rose bushes, his sunburnt neck glistening with sweat.
The garden boy.
Her knuckles whitened around the cloth. Thirteen, maybe fourteen; old enough. And those furtive glances he stole whenever she passed, always lingering too long on the sway of her hips or the deep cut of her bodice. He was the only male in the manor grounds. It had to be him. But how? The doors were locked. The maids were everywhere. Unless…
Unless he'd hidden. Waited.
Emma threw the soiled cloth onto the bed and stormed downstairs, her skirts snapping around her ankles as she marched through the manicured hedges. The moment his shadow shifted into view, she snapped.
"Willy."
The boy flinched so hard his pruning shears clattered to the gravel. "M-M'lady!" His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes darted. First to her face, then lower, to where her breath made her bodice rise and fall.
Emma seized his wrist, her grip like iron. "Look at me." Teeth clenched, she dragged him behind the towering laurel bushes, far from prying windows. "Tell me the truth. Did you sneak into my chambers?"
His face paled. "N-No! I'd never!"
"Liar." Her free hand flicked to her bodice, yanking the fabric just low enough to expose the faint, tacky streaks still glistening on her skin. "This is what you did to me. Admit it."
"I swear, ma'am! I'd never do such a thing!"
She moved before thought caught up. One hand fisted in his coarse linen shirt, the other went straight for his belt. "If you won't confess, I'll learn the truth myself."
Willy made a strangled noise as she shoved his britches down to his knees. His cock sprang free; not fully hard, but twitching, already leaking under her furious gaze. Emma didn't hesitate. She dropped to her knees in the damp grass, fingers wrapping around him, and pumped.
"Wait… ah! M'lady! Fuck!"
His hips jerked. His cock swelled under her grip, veins bulging as she worked him with rough, impatient strokes. She didn't care how wrong this was. She needed to know.
Once he was fully hard, she leaned in, lips parting.
And swallowed him whole.
Willy cried out, fingers scrabbling in the air as her mouth enveloped him. Emma sucked, forcing her throat to open, her tongue flattening against the underside of his shaft as she bobbed ruthlessly. Saliva dripped down her chin. His hips bucked, driving deeper, and she let him, fucking her face with every thrust until her nostrils brushed his sweat-damp curls.
She tasted earth. Salt. The sharp tang of adolescent arousal. Her own heartbeat pounded between her thighs, but she clenched her teeth. Ignore it, ignore it, this is for proof! And sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing.
There.
His breath hitched. His thighs tensed. With a ragged groan, he came. A hot, bitter flood that filled her mouth in thick pulses. Emma held still, letting it pool on her tongue, eyes squeezed shut as she compared the taste.
No.
This was too pungent, too salty.
Not what had been in her room.
She lurched back and spat into the grass, stomach churning. "Damn it."
Willy stared at her, panting, his softening cock twitching against his stomach. "M'lady, I… I told you, it wasn't-"
"I owe you an apology," she muttered. Then, before logic could stop her, she undid the laces of her bodice with rough jerks, letting her heavy tits spill free into the humid air.
Willy's mouth fell open.
"I falsely accused you," Emma said, stepping closer. "Let me... make it right."
His cock jumped, already hardening again.
She pressed her breasts together around him, her flesh warm and yielding as she dragged them up his shaft. The boy whimpered, hands clutching at her shoulders as she worked him in slow, slick strokes.
"You like this, don't you?" Emma whispered, the words thick with borrowed filth as she squeezed her tits tighter around Willy's twitching cock. "A noblewoman groveling in the dirt… begging to get off on a gardener's prick." Her thumbs circled the leaking head, smearing precum down her flushed skin.
The boy shuddered, his breath ragged. "M-M'lady, you shouldn't-"
"Shouldn't what? Tell you how slutty I am?" Emma arched forward, letting her stiff nipples drag against his shaft. "How I wet myself when you stare at me across the courtyard? How I dream about being bent over your wheelbarrow?" Her tongue flicked out, catching a bead of salt at his tip. "Go on. Fuck them."
Willy lurched forward, hips snapping, his cock pistoning between her straining cleavage. "Fuck! Fuck!"
"Say it," she murmured. "Tell me what I am."
"Y-You're-" He choked as a pearl of precum oozed from his tip. "A slut."
The word sent an electric jolt through her belly. "Louder."
"You're a nasty whore," he gasped, his hips thrusting greedily between her tits. "A filthy… fucking… skank!"
Emma's nipples ached. She could feel herself dripping, shame and arousal twisting together as she spat into her cleavage, letting the mess slide down his shaft. "Cum for me," she ordered. "Paint your lady like the bitch she is!"
Willy screamed, his back arching as he came; not just spurts, but a deluge, ropes of white splattering her chin, her hair, her heaving chest. The sheer volume stunned her. It clung to her lashes, matted in her hair, dripped into the valley of her breasts.
Emma's chest heaved as she stared down at herself, her skin glazed white. The boy's spend dripped in thick ropes from her chin, sliding down the slope of her breasts to pool in the crease of her bodice. More of it clung in sticky webs across her collarbone, pearling at the hollow of her throat.
She dragged trembling fingers through the mess, her breath hitching. It was hot, almost burning, the sheer weight of it shocking. Some had splattered high, flecked across her cheekbone, tangled in her eyelashes. Another thick strand glistened in her hair, matting a golden curl against her temple.
Her gown was ruined. The delicate fabric was soaked through where his cum had splashed, the once-pristine silk now clinging to her like a second skin, translucent in places. She pressed her palm to her sternum, smearing it further, watching as her fingers came away webbed with strands that stretched and broke like syrup.
Willy stared, slack-jawed, as she licked a dollop from her own wrist. The taste; it was musky, earthy, and made her stomach clench. Her nipple, still stiff beneath the mess, brushed her arm, and she shuddered.
God. Look at me.
Drenched. Debauched. Disgusting.
And worse, she didn't want it to end.
But end it did; her perverse adventure was over.
The boy staggered back, his face flushed, his pants still tangled around his ankles. Emma stood, silent, staring down at the ruin of her dress, her skin, her dignity.
"G-Go," she rasped.
He fled, a dopey smile on his face. He was eager to tell his friends about what had just transpired, though he doubted they would believe him.
For a long moment, she just stood there, sticky and reeking, her bodice hanging open, her breath hitching in useless little gasps. Then, with slow, mechanical movements, she retied what she could of her dress and crept toward the servants' entrance, praying to every god she knew that no one would see her.
That no one would know.