Obey

Chapter 3: Good(?) Morning ❤️

Brandon sat with three generations of Franklins around a dining table. Sitting beside Tina, he watched her sidestep a few dozen questions about himself and a supposed exchange program, some convoluted story to explain his living with her.

As Tina's grandparents badgered her on why she shouldn't have offered the program her spare room, Brandon, sly as a fox, placed a hand atop one of her knees. Tina stilled. She shot the man a look, feeling embarrassed even though she knew the table hid them from view.

Beginning his explorations, Brandon slowly hiked up the brown-eyed's skirt. Surprising Tina, his touch was pleasurable, made a zing shoot through her, and her legs part.

At her mother questioning the food's taste, having noticed she'd barely eaten, the teen scarfed down some chicken and green beans. She battled a moan of pleasure, biting her fork hard. Craving more of Brandon's skillful affections, Tina eagerly lessened the gap between her clothed core and his tantalizing digits.

With light pants, the woman wriggled in her seat. Brandon remained stone-faced, held back his smug satisfaction when he moved Tina's damp undergarment to the side, heard her shocked gasp, and felt her shiver at the cool air's kiss. Being played like a fiddle, Tina found it hard to control her squirming, the intensity soon drawing the attention of her grandmother. With her quick wit, the teen provided her granny an excuse for her behavior. Brandon smirked, somewhat impressed that in her glassy-eyed state, Tina remained articulate; he sensed her want, tickled her mound of soft curls before massaging her bountiful thighs. This was Brandon's fun, witnessing Tina's reactions, how her feminine body sang for him.

A few more teasing strokes and the heated woman tensed. Again, she stifled deep moans with her fork, knowing she couldn't last much longer. If Brandon didn't act soon, touch the teen directly, then she felt like she'd have no choice but to take matters into her own hands, family be damned.

As she edged into a whimper, Tina felt suddenly sharp nails leave her. She pouted at the loss of contact, looked to Brandon with unfocused and desperate eyes before sobering up at his horrific transformation, hairy, disfigured, and giant, his stature forcing his back to curve against the ceiling.

With her breath caught in her throat, Tina looked to the lumbering... thing's eyes. She saw it snarl, gaze focused on her larynx before it lunged... Everything cut to black, the grating screeches of the Franklin dinner table a blaring and bloody symphony...

Waking with a start, Tina gasped for air. Sweat trickled down her forehead as her fingers anchored themselves in her bedsheets. She groaned, disgusted, "Never again..."

Tina refused to question the meaning behind her — dream, nightmare?

___________________________

Narrator here again...

Hey, fantasies don't need to make sense.

That is all.

___________________________

Ignoring her rapidly firing mind, the teen stretched and swung a leg out of bed. "FUCK!" She winced, her arms flying to her side faster than she remembered Dee doing a week ago for a piece of gum.

Bad idea!

With care, Tina lifted her shirt. Angling to face her closet's mirror, she saw her left side patterned purple. She flinched as she stroked the bruise, the delicate ridges of her fingertips enough to make her hiss. Then Tina tensed. Realizing what she had to do, she let loose a string of curses that could cause a sailor to blush.