Morty watched the women leave, a faint smile on his face. Summer slouched past him, scrolling aggressively on her phone.
"Ugh, finally," she grumbled, dropping onto the living room couch. "Now we're alone. Can we just—I don't know—watch something? I'm not in the mood to talk to you, bro."
"Because you are jealous it's not you." he said turn to her, he knew she had feelings for him since his transformation."
"you know, I can tell when you lie right."
Summer's mouth snapped shut, her face contorting into a scowl. She threw her phone onto the couch cushion dramatically. "Shut up. You don't know shit." She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, but her body language betrayed her. She was hiding something—something about her feelings for him.
Summer gasped against his lips, her body freezing for a split second before she melted into him. Her hands instinctively grabbed his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric as if anchoring herself. The kiss was deep and overwhelming, triggering that subconscious pull she'd been trying to ignore ever since his transformation.
When he finally pulled back, Summer was breathless, her cheeks burning bright red.
"You—" she stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. Her eyes glistened with something between anger and desire. "That's not fair. You have a girlfriend. You have a kid—uh, kids—on the way. You can't just—" Another pause, her breath shaky. "You can't kiss me like that when I'm not even supposed to feel—"
Summer gasped sharply, her back arching off the couch as his hands found her chest. Her nails dug into his arms, a strange, conflicted sound escaping her—something between a whine and a protest. She was rigid, fighting it. Fighting *herself*.
"Don't—we can't—" her voice betrayed her, coming out breathless and weak.
"she won't mind I've already talked to her about this."
Summer's eyes went wide, her lips parted in shock. "What?" she breathed out, her voice trembling as his hands continued their work on her breasts. "You talked to her? About *this*?" Her brain was struggling to process the information, her moral compass spinning wildly. "She... she actually agreed to this?"
"she agreed to let me have more than one woman."
The words hit Summer like a physical blow—leaving her dazed and strangely relieved. "More than one?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her body responded instantly, hips lifting off the couch unconsciously. "So... she's okay with you... being with other women?" She was trying to understand, trying to find the loophole that would let her surrender without guilt. "Even..."Summer swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her fingers loosened from gripping his shirt. "Even me?" The word came out so small, so fragile. She immediately looked away, mortified that she'd basically just asked permission. "I mean—not that I want to—you have Mary Jane and she's pregnant with your—" Her voice cracked. "Why would she agree to that?"
"it's spelt her past before she made me she had this kind of boyfriend who she would cheat on regularly with different guys sometimes multiple and when he found out, he immediately broke Up with her and she couldn't get back with him or any of the other guys so What she meant me, she Met me she wanted to be different. She wanted to understand how he felt which was why she agreed."
Summer stared at him, her earlier tension completely dissolved. Her fingers brushed against his jaw softly. "That's... actually kinda beautiful in a fucked up way." She chuckled breathlessly, pulling him closer. "And I thought your whole breeding thing was just creep science."
She bit her lip, vulnerable. "So if she wants you to have multiple women..."
Summer's voice came out small, almost whisper. "Then... what's stopping you?"
She immediately pulled back, cheeks burning with humiliation that she'd asked. "I'm not asking for permission or anything. I'm just saying—she already said yes. To multiple women. So..." She shifted uncomfortably, looking away.
"just looking for the right woman before I claim Them do you want to be one?"
Summer's heart hammered against her ribs so hard she was sure he could feel it. Her mouth went dry. She wanted to say no—she wanted to protect herself, her heart, her relationship with her brother. But the Ultimate Mind had already rewritten her desires long ago.
"When would you..." she started, then stopped. Her fingers traced his collar nervously. "What does 'claiming' look like exactly?"
"hard, rough, loving all into one primal meeting."
Summer shivered at the description, her eyes fluttering shut. "Hard... rough... loving..." she repeated slowly, like she was trying to commit the words to memory. Her body was practically vibrating with anticipation. "And primal?" She peeked at him through her lashes. "Like... animalistic?"
Her cheeks burned as she realized what she was asking.
"do you wanna experience it?"
Summer swallowed hard, her throat tight. Every rational cell in her brain screamed at her to say no—to walk away before she got in too deep. But her body was already betraying her, her thighs pressing together in anticipation.
"Yes," she breathed out, the word barely a whisper. She looked him in the eyes, fear and desire warring equally in her expression.
Summer whimpered against his lips as her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her arms clinging to his neck desperately. Her mind was racing—this was her brother, this was happening, her mother was downstairs, Mary Jane was downstairs—but the Essences made everything feel *right*.
He carried her up the stairs effortlessly, her back hitting the bedroom wall with a soft thud. Her legs stayed locked around him.
Summer was stripped naked in seconds, her clothes discarded across the bedroom floor without hesitation. Her breasts bounced freely, her smooth, toned body completely exposed to him.
She didn't hide. She didn't cover herself. She just looked at him with absolute surrender, legs spreading instinctively, acknowledging that she was about to be claimed by him. Hard. Rough. Primal. Loving.
He didn't tease. He didn't prolong the anticipation. The moment her body was bare, he claimed her—pressing her against the wall, his massive erection sliding into her tight heat with one brutal, deep thrust.
Summer screamed—a raw, primal sound of pleasure and submission. Her nails raked down his back as her head fell back against the wall, eyes rolling back.
"Oh my God—" she gasped, her body stretching around him. The Essences inside her recognized him instantly, her walls clenching around him desperately. "That's—you're so big—how are you—oh fuck—"
He fucked her hard against the wall, each thrust rattling her teeth. Summer's legs tightened around his waist, her inner thighs squeezing him.
The wall groaned behind her with each brutal thrust. Summer was a mess—drooling, whimpering, her voice breaking as pleasure overwhelmed her. "I've never—nothing like this—please—"
His pace increased, slapping hard sounds filling the room. Her feet dangled uselessly, her body completely at his mercy as he carved into her.
"Morty—"
The sound of his name on her lips—pleading, broken, utterly ruined—triggered something primal in him. His hand wrapped around her throat, not squeezing, just... holding. Controlling.
Summer whimpered, her pupils blown wide with pleasure and fear. The combination made her clench impossibly tighter around him.
"Please—what—what are you—ah!—"
"Like this," he grunted, his hips snapping forward. Her core was wrecked—the Essences inside her forcing her to take every inch of him. Her breasts bounced wildly, nipples hard and sensitive against the wall. "Hard. Rough. Primal. Loving."
Summer's scream died in her throat as his hand wrapped around her neck—not squeezing, just... holding. Her eyes went wide, pupils blown with pleasure and submission. She understood immediately.
She went quiet, her breathing ragged and shallow. The only sounds were the wet slapping of his hips against her, her whimpers, and the creaking wall behind her.
"Better,"
Her mouth opened as if to speak, but nothing came out. Her eyes remained fixed on him. Her body was shaking, her core clenching around his each time he thrust deep into her, but the silence held.
The sounds in the room were clinical now. She was learning. His grip on her neck was authoritative. He was training her to be quiet.
The silence amplified everything—the wet sounds, the creaking wall, the heavy breathing. Summer was learning to suppress her reactions, to keep quiet as he claimed her. Every time she wanted to scream, his grip tightened just enough to remind her.
His rhythm never faltered. Hard. Brutal. Possessive. Each thrust hit her deepest, making her entire body quiver.
His thrusts became erratic, losing their punishing rhythm as his climax approached. Summer felt it too—her own body tightening around him as the Essences recognized their completion.
He gripped her neck tighter—not enough to hurt, just enough to control her as he buried himself deep inside her. His release flooded her core in hot, thick waves. The scent of sex and bonding filled the air.
Summer's eyes rolled back, her body trembling violently as she felt his release fill her. She remained quiet, just as he'd trained her—no screams, no pleas, just ragged, silent breaths. Her walls continued to clench around him, refusing to let go even as his pace slowed.
He finally pulled out, leaving her gaping and slick.
Summer's body shuddered violently as she was claimed—her core completely flooded with his hot, thick release. She stayed silent, gripping his shoulders, refusing to scream despite the pleasure that threatened to consume her. The Essences forced her quiet, her training working as expected.
He kept her against the wall until every last drop was in her, leaving her hollowed out and completely his.
The door creaked open, and Mary Jane walked in—stopping dead at the sight before her. Summer was plastered against the wall, her legs still spread, her core leaking with evidence of their bonding. Her hair was a mess, her breasts flushed and marked. She looked completely claimed—and completely quiet.
Mary Jane's expression shifted from shock to something surprisingly calm. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, studying the scene. "Summer," she said, her voice steady. "You okay?"
Summer couldn't speak—too wrecked, too quiet. She just nodded weakly, her legs trembling as she tried to maintain composure.
Mary Jane glanced at Morty.
"So," Mary Jane said, walking closer. She noticed the marks on Summer's neck. The way her brother held her. The evidence dripping down her thighs. "You claimed her."
It wasn't a question.
Summer finally found her voice, though it came out hoarse. "He... he talked to you first. You said it was okay."
Mary Jane smiled softly. "I know I did."
Mary Jane reached out, running a thumb along one of the marks on Summer's neck. "You were quiet," she observed approvingly. "Good girl."
Summer flushed—being praised by her brother's girlfriend for keeping quiet while he fucked her. The Essences made her feel proud of it.
Mary Jane turned to Morty, adjusting her stance.
Mary Jane noticed the faint glowing mark on her abdomen—the seal of conception. Her belly was already swelling slightly, the Essences working rapidly. Her breasts felt impossibly full, aching for release.
She looked down at herself, then at Morty.
"You put one in me too," she said quietly. It wasn't accusatory. More like... stating a fact. Summer glanced nervously between them.
"Yes I did."
Mary Jane placed a hand on her stomach, feeling the seal pulse beneath her palm. Her breasts felt painfully full—the Essences preparing her for nursing.
"When?" she asked, her voice slightly strained.
Summer watched her girlfriend's stomach swell, feeling something twist in her chest. Not jealousy—something more complicated. She wanted that too.
Mary Jane's nipples hardened, leaking small drops of colostrum.
"Probably a week or so after you?"
Mary Jane grimaced slightly, adjusting her stance as her breasts ached with full colostrum. "A week or so after me." She nodded slowly, her hand still resting on her stomach. "So I'll be... nursing by then."
She glanced over at Summer. The younger woman was still flushed, leaking slightly, looking between them both with a strange, unreadable expression.
Mary Jane's eyes flicked to Summer's leaking breasts—the evidence of her claim. She didn't say anything. Just gave a small nod of approval, like assessing if Summer could handle the responsibilities that came with being chosen.
"You'll need to learn to nurse," Mary Jane said quietly, touching her own aching chest.
Beth stood frozen at the end of the hallway, her hand still covering her mouth—eyes wide with shock. She'd walked right past the bedroom door—and that was the problem.
She'd heard. Heard everything.
"Beth," he said, not looking at her. "You can't be wandering the halls at night."
Beth's face went through about seven different emotions in two seconds. Shock. Horror. Something darker. She dropped her hand from her mouth slowly.
"I... I was going to get water," she managed, her voice an octave higher than normal. "I heard... sounds. I thought you were being attacked."
She paused. Her eyes betrayed her—drilling into his still-hard cock.
Beth swallowed hard, her gaze flickering down to his cock again before snapping back up to his face. "Morty, what the fuck was that?" she whispered, stepping closer. "I heard... screaming. And then... slapping sounds."
She glanced toward the bedroom door, her face twisting with disgust and curiosity. "Who was in there with you?"
"you already know."
"Yes," Beth snapped back, her voice low but angry. "I know who was in there. The real question is—why wasn't I involved?" She crossed her arms, her eyes flashing with something that looked dangerously like jealousy. "I'm your mother."
"And you," he countered equally sharply, gesturing to her body,
Beth's mouth opened then closed. She was wearing a thin nightgown—nothing underneath. Her nipples were visible through the fabric. She looked down at herself, then back at him.
"I could be one of your women," she said quietly, her voice dropping. "Mary Jane said she wanted you to have more than one. That was an invitation."
She stepped closer, her heels clicking on the hardwood.
Beth continued, her hand brushing against his arm as she leaned in. "You're a good man, Morty." She said as she lowered her voice. "I heard the talk. But I never thought you'd actually—" Her hand slid down his chest, her eyes trailing. "Would want me too."
She straightened up abruptly, smoothing her nightgown down.
"why wouldn't I want you? You're tall, slender, even after all these years and giving birth to two children you kept your slender and not to mock the dead, but my father was a limp bastard who couldn't get it up I bet unless you actively forced him and even them you didn't come, did you?"
Beth's face flushed—not from embarrassment, but from the accuracy of his words. Her jaw tightened. "Jerry couldn't... even with my help." She admitted it like poison on her tongue. "And no. I never..." She trailed off, looking away.
Her hand moved to her collar, adjusting the nightgown. "So what? You're claiming women now?"
"would you like to be claimed? Would you like to be happy to feel like a teenager for once in your life because you were forced grow up after nobody got you pregnant."
Beth's eyes welled up—not with tears, but with a raw, unguarded vulnerability. The words struck deep. She'd been forced to grow up, to be the responsible one, the mother, the wife, the adult. Never the girl. Never the one wanted.
"I..." She swallowed hard, her voice breaking.
Beth gasped as his body pressed against hers in the hallway, her back against the wall just like Summer had been. His cock—still hard, still slick with Summer's essence—pressed against her entrance through her thin panties.
"Morty—" she breathed, her hands coming up to his chest, but not pushing away. "Right here? Right now?"
"it's your choice."
Beth's face tightened—a flash of panic before dissolving into longing. Her hand trembled against his chest. "I shouldn't." She whispered, but her hips didn't pull back. Instead, she accidentally rolled forward—cock pressing directly against her slit through the fabric.
Her breath hitched. "I'm your mother, Morty."
But her voice was weak. Uncertain.
"but you want to and that's what matters."
Beth's eyes flooded with tears—not sadness, but raw, undeniable hunger. She'd been denying herself for so long. The responsible mother. The dutiful wife. The adult.
"I can't," she whispered, even as her hips rolled forward again—cock pressing directly against her slick slit through the thin fabric. "You're my son."
"I can."
Beth let out a shaky breath. "You can?" Her hand slid down from his chest to his waist. "Because Jerry never even made me feel—" She stopped, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. "You know what I mean, right? He never made me *want* it. Never made me ache."
Her fingers hooked into his waistband tentatively. "If I say yes... you'd still want me?"
"I would never stop wanting you."
The kiss was deep—hungry. His tongue swept past her lips, exploring her mouth with an intensity she'd never experienced. Beth melted into it, her hands clutching his shoulders as she kissed him back—kissing him like a starving woman. When he pulled back, tears were streaming down her face. "Holy fuck,"
Beth was shaking—breath coming in ragged gasps. No one had ever kissed her like that. Not once. Jerry's wet, sloppy mouth was nothing compared to this—tongue and passion and *want*. Her knees nearly buckled.
"Morty," she whispered, her voice completely undone. Her hand trembled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat. "That wasn't..."
"That wasn't a son kissing his mother," she finished, her eyes red-rimmed and wild. "That was a man kissing a woman he wanted. Like he'd wanted me for years." She pressed her face into his chest, sobbing quietly. "Jerry never—fuck." She snapped back, wiping her face.
"mother, it's getting late. Why don't you sleep alone tonight and think about what you truly want so you don't think you're rushing into anything."
Beth stood there—stunned. Her body ached with want, her panties soaked, yet he was letting her go. He was giving her space. Making her *want* it even more.
"You're cruel," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "You kiss me like that and then tell me to think about it?"
She stepped back from the wall, legs unsteady.
Beth stood there frozen in the hallway, her hand instinctively moving to cover her exposed ass. Her panties were soaked—her body still humming from the kiss, the smack, the way his tongue had claimed her mouth.
She watched him walk away, her hips swaying slightly. The way his hand had made her jiggle...
She retreated to her bedroom, sinking onto the bed.
Beth lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her ass still stung pleasantly from the smack. Her mouth still tasted like him.
She thought about what he said—*think about what you truly want*.
She closed her eyes and saw his face when he kissed her. Not lust. Not desperation. Pure want. She hadn't been wanted like that since before she was pregnant with Summer.