Wealth of Fortune

 

                The physics of living state matter, gene therapy treatment, the chemiosmotic theory, DNA’s own double helix structure – the list of biotechnological feats and discoveries that helped shaped today’s world was endless. Nearly none of them would have been possible without the work of Charles Bloom, the twentieth century’s premier biologist, engineer, and everything in between. Born in the mid 1900’s, Charles quickly rose to fame after pushing his education far beyond what anyone thought possible at the time, discovering breakthrough after breakthrough.

                The combination of overwhelming intellect mixed with little free time and the needs of a young adult was difficult to balance. Charles had always thought he’d been exceptional at time management and social skills in the moment, but in reality, everyone was kept at arm’s length, including his family. He never made any true and lasting friendships, as very few people were able to both keep up and interest him. He was reluctant to share his amassing wealth with his family, feeling as if his parents began to love him more only after he began to prove his ability to the world. As for women, Charles was no stranger to bedding lucky damsels after drinks or parties, but a lasting relationship never felt like it was in the cards.

                Before Charles realized it, the year 2000 had rolled around. He was lounging around his large, lonely house, retired in his early 60’s. He felt it happening for nearly a decade prior and it was only getting worse – his life was slipping away, and more and more bodily functions were falling out of his control. The people he saw daily dwindled, his entire family had passed on, and women under his age would only look at him with platonic kindness instead of the lust they used to. It seemed like the whole world was forgetting about Charles, as recent breakthroughs discovered by him were never named after him or solely credited to him. It’s been a great life, truly. I’ve been blessed, he thought to himself on the porch, watching the sun set. But this isn’t where I want it to end…

                Unsatisfied with the idea of spending his remaining years watching TV and mingling with other seniors, Charles began a project in isolation, using nothing but his basement, an array of chemicals, basic tools, and his knowledge. Studying the way his own cells behaved day to day, he devised a theory to reverse the aging process. Despite already having decades of experience and intellect, it took Charles months of studying before he felt confident enough to begin the project. A point that came up a lot in his research was the fact that women generally tended to live longer than men, but there was no conclusive root cause as to why, so Charles chose not to factor that in at first.

                “Mitochondria can only evolve in female bodies, or female cells, rather…XX chromosomes,” Charles mumbled to himself one day, beginning to circle back to a point he originally thought was moot. “Now, how hard would it be to implement that trait into males. Our chromosomes are XY, obviously, but does that matter, or is this another dead end…” The remaining years of Charles’s 60’s were consumed by this project. Weeks, sometimes months, would pass without Charles seeing another soul. Journals filled with technical writing and testing results were strewn around the whole house, with some rooms even being dedicated to them. By the time Charles developed a serum, he was in his mid 70’s.

                Charles tested his creation extensively on mice, as he knew he was still a long ways away from human use. He purchased, and ultimately ended up killing, every mouse from every pet store within his reach to the point where he was banned from purchasing animals without a proper investigation of his property. Well versed in the scientific process, the failures were a lot less pressing than his growing inability to obtain new test subjects. He began luring and trapping wild mice and rats both inside and outside of his home, exposing his old body to further disease. Towards the end of his 70’s, Charles’s experiment final bore fruit. One of the only surviving rats developed a noticeable decrease in size and age over the course of several weeks. Hallelujah!!

                Charles’s eagerness to level up his project was unmatched, but his body was in noticeably worse shape than it was when this all began, and undiagnosed hantavirus had formed after consistent rat exposure. Excited at the prospect of mimicking his test subject, he forced himself into more sleepless nights and expedited testing, knowing that he was still years away from using human subjects. He was so focused on maintaining his physical ability to work to the point where he purchased a wheelchair to move in when his legs grew tired from standing and walking throughout his house.

                Out of everything I’ve ever discovered and created…this will be my true legacy, Charles thought to himself one day. The wind was still, and the sun was setting as he held up a vial to the window. It was filled with 1 ounce of his creation’s latest version. Now nearing his late 80’s, Charles had deemed his experiment ready for human testing. Over the last few years, he continued his endless cycle of learning and applying, and was also able to consistently reverse the aging of rats to various points in their lifespans. However, he was so old that his own ability to think coherently for long periods was waning. He knew that getting this serum into a human test subject would take far too long with all of the documentation that would have to be made, let alone passing moral and ethical procedures for something with such a radical promise of de-aging. Charles swallowed a few pills to help steady his hands, then injected the serum into his bloodstream, having full faith in himself and in his creation that had taken around 25 years to make it to this point.

                It’s done, it’s over. Everything is over, Charles thought as he lay in bed that night. His heart had been racing since the injection a few hours prior. There was nothing else Charles wanted to do – or realistically, could do – in his current state. He slept through the night, and remained in bed for the entire next day. With thoughts fading in and out, he wondered if it was going to work or if he was going to die cold and alone. As he slept through the next night, marinating in his own urine and feces that he couldn’t find the energy to clean, his wrinkly skin began to tighten over several hours. He awoke with his heart pounding in his ears. He wriggled his fingers and limbs, noticing a little more spunk with each movement. Cracking his joints, he trudged to the restroom and stood up straight. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckled, “I think it’s working.”

                Charles rubbed the numerous wrinkles on his forehead. He was certainly still old, but his skin looked a lot more vibrant than his age would suggest. “When’s the last time I could twist my arm like this…when I was 60, 65 maybe?” he rambled while lightly stretching. For the first time since he could remember, Charles felt freedom from his work. He spent the day walking around a park and reading a book that he had put off for decades long ago. A week of pure, able-bodied bliss passed before new developments unfolded.

                “Hah! I can’t believe it!” Charles was grinning from ear to ear one morning, noticing that his dark hair was beginning to grow back on his scalp. “I practically look 50 again!” he exclaimed, touching his fingertips to the small fuzzy hairs on his head. Charles proceeded to thoroughly document the rest of his body, noticing the amount of muscle and tone he was able to feel compared to his once-sickly limbs. He thought of all of the activities he had missed out on like traveling and marriage, and wanted nothing more than to mingle with strangers with a good drink at the bar, but he refrained for a little longer, wanting the serum to have more time to solidify its effects.

                Having been addicted to working all his life, Charles found it difficult to adapt as the days continued. I’ve already done this, this, and this…I want to do this, but not yet. I want to do this too, but just not yet. Disciplining his excitement for the success of his creation, he created a routine to follow each day. He would document everything that changed about his body each morning, if anything. Then, he would jog and work out at the gym, considering the gym to be his first real steps into re-integrating with society. He’d order hearty brunches and dinners with no fears of his wealth running dry within the next century, then he would study, either in the form of driving around nearby cities, people-watching from a bench, or simply by using the internet that, to his surprise, had boomed into a cultural and omnipresent norm in the years he spent creating the serum. Finally, just before bed, he would continue enjoying good literature.

                After a month flew by, Charles found himself with a full head of hair and the strikingly rugged stubble he’d long forgotten about. His skin now glowed with vibrant youth, his vision slowly enhanced, and due to his strong discipline and free time, he was among the fittest 40-to-50-year-old men at his gym. People came up to him and asked him about his routine and diet, and he caught women eyeballing him from time to time as he went about his days. Charles’s confidence soared through the roof, and it wasn’t too much longer before he felt young and comfortable enough to take more risks. He made a lot of friends by buying everyone rounds at the bar, and the women who were attracted to his charisma soon found themselves having the time of their lives in bed with a virile man.

                With a rediscovered sense of self and a strong, successful sex drive, Charles felt like he’d conquered the world. The discipline he’d originally enacted began to slip as drinks, people-pleasing, sex, and figuring out how to best use his new smartphone – one of the latest phenomena he’d missed while buried in work – became his priorities. Reading, studying, and documenting his body day-to-day became inconsistent at best. Had Charles been vigilant, he may have noticed just how much his body hair thinned as he continued to de-age, or how the muscles in his body began to reshape and diminish in some areas while becoming more prominent in others. Something that he did notice was feeling less fat in his stomach after a large meal or a night of drinking; what he didn’t realize was that the fat, over the course of days, had slowly been storing more and more of itself in his lower body.

                During a rare sober night as Charles slept, the small of his back quietly grinded and popped throughout the night. Suspicion rose when he realized that the new clothing he had bought for himself wasn’t fitting him as well as it had been a week ago. His pants were harder to put on, and the pant legs felt a little too long. Similarly, his shirts felt slightly looser and his shoulders felt smaller than they should have been. Running through his bodily examination, a lot of changes had been noted since the last log. Instead of exercising that morning, Charles sat on a bench at the park and reflected, thinking about all he had accomplished and all he would continue to accomplish.

                The way Charles viewed the world around him felt oh-so slightly different. Something about the way the colors blended together and the way the wind felt against his face as he blinked almost twice as much as usual, among the other oddities, almost made Charles wonder if a mistake had happened somewhere along the way. He stopped thinking about it after a large brunch, chalking it up to probable temporary side effects that could be ironed out later.

                Another week had passed, and after buying another round at the bar for all of his friends, he was eager to dig into a beautiful blonde woman to end the night. They slowly undressed each other while Charles had her pinned to the wall, kissing her up and down her chest and neck. Charles felt just as ready and horny as he had any other night, but something was off when it was finally time to claim his lady. Both Charles and the woman played with his dick for a while, but it was unresponsive and maybe even a little smaller than expected.

                “Don’t worry, babe, I got this,” Charles breathed as he excused himself to the restroom. Clearing his mind and focusing, he tried his best to get it up, but it simply wasn’t working. By the time he exited the restroom, he saw the woman getting dressed. Charles pleaded and tried to stop her, but she reassured him that it was still a fun night and that maybe they could get together again some other time.

                Frustrated, naked, and alone, Charles took a hard look at himself in the mirror, still trying to get his dick up. As he re-aroused himself, he noticed a distinct puffy swell in his nipples. He was hesitant to touch them, but when he did, they were as sensitive and as stimulating as they looked. Sleep it off, Charlie, he thought to himself, realizing that it was time to regain the discipline for the self-checkups that he had been neglecting.

                As he took notes the next morning, Charles looked at himself with confusion and intrigue. He had wondered before, but now there was no doubt. As he felt his flat stomach and broad hips down, there was no denying that they looked more feminine than masculine. The hair on his body had become so thin and light that it was almost invisible. His arms and shoulders, while still strong and capable, also held a distinct feminine roundness that complimented his subtle lower body curve. Rubbing his face, it was also noted that his bristly stubble had faded in favor of smoother skin. The most unbelievable part was his genitals, which looked even smaller than before and felt softer to the touch. Charles tried to arouse himself again, and despite feeling a little solid, a full erection was not possible.

                I seem to be developing the characteristics of a female, Charles wrote down in a technical journal. While this is an incredible scientific discovery, I will enact a countermeasure as to not allow this phenomenon to develop, as it may compromise the integrity of the de-aging formula. Charles looked at his face in the mirror again. Approximately two-and-a-half months have passed since injection. He read the last data log with a sigh, which described his face as rugged and firm. Face now appears to be androgynous with masculine-leaning features. Estimated artificial age currently rests in the mid-30’s. Facial hair has diminished, although scalp hair appears thick.

                Charles began to work on testosterone-boosting formulas that would be compatible with the serum in his bloodstream. Rejecting invitations to drink and work out with his friends felt all too familiar. Yearning to return to his free and youthful lifestyle, he worked as fast as he could, finishing up the first prototype in just a few days. One night, when he finally gave himself a break to drink again, his insecurity stuck out like a sore thumb. His clothes still weren’t fitting quite right, and he wasn’t nearly as loud, bombastic, and cheerful as he had been prior. His ability to pick up chicks also seemed to have gone as quickly as it came.

                “Alright, follow-up shot number 1,” Charles said to himself the next day, confident that this quick and basic formula would help him regain what he was losing. By now, his genitals didn’t look either male or female, rather an eldritch fusion of the two. And no matter how toned Charles kept his upper body, the slight sag in his pecs brought him anxiety. Faithful in his work, he tried to slip back into the booming demeanor he once held at the bar. The crowd still loved him for buying their drinks, but otherwise didn’t seem too invested in chatting with him. Few could even recognize him compared to how he’d looked just a couple weeks ago.

                Charles grew even more anxious as the long days continued. Each day, his pants felt just a little harder to fit around his hips, and the gooey malformed slug between his legs grew just a little smaller and tighter. He didn’t want to follow up with another shot for at least a week to gauge how the first one affected him, but wasted no time in developing the second one for when the time came.

                “I’m…so…sick of this!” Charles groaned in frustration, unable to fit his incredibly large ass into his jeans. He clenched his teeth with a red face as he continued to force it, unwilling to delve into the inevitable femininity. With so much pressure being applied, he’d almost missed the faint schlep from between his thighs, signaling the opening of his nearly developed womanhood. Charles buckled and fell to his knees, overcome with cramps and dribbles of urine from his misplaced urethra. His body shook as he explored the region with one hand, feeling his hymen painfully stretch when trying to slip in more than one finger.

                “God, oh God, this is not good. Second shot is scheduled for tomorrow, keep her steady,” Charles rambled to himself after his formal full body examination, rubbing his lower stomach to relieve the pain that persisted from a growing uterus. His nipples were sore and puffy, and every little movement made him want to both eat and fall asleep from stress. Jawline has rounded more since last week, he logged. Hair growth appeared slightly hastened. Nose is… is that even my nose? Nose is smaller. Lower body is estimated to be above 95%...biologically female.

                Despite the increasing stakes and his increasingly longer times staying home, Charles found it more difficult to log his findings day by day after his second shot. Assuming that his womanhood would revert within the week, he experimented with it while he had the chance, sticking all sorts of different pharmacy-branded pleasure toys in and around it, shamefully breaking his hymen in the process. Despite being no stranger to female anatomy, it felt utterly humiliating to be the one bent over, ass in the air, with something going in and out of his pussy. But he was alone, and he was enjoying it. His eyes rolled into the back of head as he approached his first female climax, with images of non-descript men and women flashing through his flustered mind. After the first time feeling that foreign warmth spread through his tingling body, he looked at the wet phallic-shaped toy in disgust, returning to his senses.

                By the end of the week, Charles only found himself more frustrated. His ill-fitting clothing was becoming unbearable as he slowly lost height and girth with each passing day, and his bones felt like they were going to ache for the rest of his life. Still too ashamed to go out, but also too tired of his usual routine, his days consisted of reading, eating expensive DoorDash orders, discovering new channels and social media platforms through his phone, and a lot of masturbation.

                “God, I’m gonna miss having a pussy,” Charles thought to himself after a particularly intense session on his couch. His neck craned over the arm of his couch, letting lengthened hair dangle freely in the air. “When is it going away…tomorrow…? Oh shit!” Charles sprung up, realizing that he hadn’t been logging his body throughout the week, and that he hadn’t been working on his third shot. Through a burst of panic and scientific adrenaline, Charles whipped up his third testosterone-boosting injection by not sleeping and applied it as soon as he could the next morning.

                “It looks bad now, it really…mmfg…does,” Charles mumbled to himself, sucking on a wet sex toy that had just been inside of him. “But I’m gonna be a man again so soon…schluurrp…mm, yeah. Oh yeah. So might as well enjoy…” After finally getting back to his logs, he had realized that his face was no longer recognizable as the man he once was. Coupled with hair that grew beyond his shoulders, he looked like a young woman at almost every angle. Throughout the past few weeks, Charles noticed that a lot of the ads he saw on his phone pushed feminine clothing and products in his face while also showing them off on other models. At first it had no effect, and the idea seemed preposterous. But a few days after his third shot, he was fed up with staying cooped up and wanted to go outside again. And he wanted to do it with cute shorts and frilly tops.

                “Captain’s log number two-hundred-and…yeah, haha. Going where no man has ever gone before – the women’s changing room!” Charles excitedly whispered in hushed tones while holding his phone out, recording himself. He propped his phone up against the bench to view most of his body before continuing. “Out with these crusty sweatpants, in with…tada!” He shook a pair of jean shorts in front of the camera before sliding them up his tiny legs. “Oooh my God, this looks so good,” he said, feeling his thighs and posing in front of the mirror. “I don’t wanna waste money on girl clothes, but fuck it, I’m rich.” The process repeated for about an hour as Charles put on various panties, shorts, skirts, and tops. He gravitated towards the clothing that revealed his legs but concealed his top, as he wasn’t as eager about showing his narrow, misshapen chest and shoulders.  

                After returning home, Charles recorded another video rambling to himself. “So like, I’m pretty sure I used to be over six feet tall. I don’t know what happened, but I’m like 5’5’’ now? Either way who cares, right? I got my third shot in…I think I’ll do one more next week. If this one doesn’t do it, that one deffff should…and like,” Charles paused, briefly losing his train of thought. “Oh yeah! I look like a total chick right now, so like I figure it’d be fun to like, blend in with other crowds maybe, see if I can? It’s not gonna last forever, so like, why not?”

                Through a spike of his remaining self-consciousness, Charles decided to wait a day before parading around in public as he looked. Still wanting to do it the next day, he got himself back to the bar wearing his favorite jean shorts and a long-sleeved top to leave his upper body to the imagination. Noticing a few of his friends, he introduced himself as Charles, laughing with them when they didn’t believe him. “No! Like seriously, it’s actually me! I’m buying drinks again! Remember?”

                Although no one believed him, people were certainly interested in chatting with Charles again, although not in ways he’d expected. Women weren’t just not interested in him, they were downright rude: “Why would you ever buy a bunch of assholes drinks?” one of them said. “Now they’re gonna feel entitled to you. I guess you need it, looking like that.” As she had said, there were a few guys who tried hitting on Charles which made him feel strange, but most of them went for the other girls. Finding a moment alone, Charles began to realize what the other girls had that he didn’t. Sexy shoes, makeup, earrings, and in some cases, styled hair and tight clothing that teased their breasts and curves.

                Fucking skanks, Charles thought angrily when returning home. I can do makeup. I can do shoes. I can do anything! As Charles made practicing makeup a routine throughout the week, mixes of excitement, pain, and anxiety swam through him as he noticed his pathetic little pecs swelling each day. By the middle of the week, he had decidedly needed a bra, but each bra was outgrown day by day as the week came to an end. Simultaneously, his hair continued to grow all the way down to his elbows, and his fingers, wrists, and forearms had slenderized, ultimately removing the final traces of masculinity he’d held. By the end of that Sunday, Charles had fully become a short, voluptuous woman, standing at the proud height of 5’2’’ and looking no more than 20 years old.

                “Goddd…” Charles groaned as she awoke the next morning, fingering herself as usual. Without thinking, she trudged to the bathroom to freshen up and put her face on with the skills she’d be practicing. She wrestled with a lot of conflicting thoughts. She liked the way she looked, but she also knew she had to get to work on her fourth shot. She spent a lot of time on her phone looking for new clothes and other tips to make her look sexier even though she continued holding onto the idea that she’d be a young stud again soon.

                Charles went to the bar that night looking sexier than ever before, but she remained reserved, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Her newfound curves and appearance brought the attention to her in more manageable ways. Guys would buy her drinks and chat with her, although she wasn’t particularly interested until a tall, muscular black man entered the scene when she was four drinks in. Something about the way he spoke to her was different from the others; he was clearly interested in sex, but his words and demeanor didn’t make that obvious, making Charles feel like she may the one assuming too much in the exchange.

                After talking and laughing for what felt like a long while, the man placed his hand on Charles’s thigh. Her body felt like it was burning up. She knew what she wanted, but she couldn’t bring herself to express it. Luckily, the man took the lead, tracing his hand up her body and around her chest to hold her face. Charles’s eyelids fluttered as he brought her in for a kiss. His other hand wrapped around Charles’s waist as their tongues danced around one another, and she couldn’t get enough the light stubble that pressed against her smooth face.

                Shortly after, the man walked Charles through the crowd, then outside to his car. The dark and quiet atmosphere was the complete opposite of the bar, yet equally thrilling. Charles didn’t know how to make sense of what she was feeling moment to moment, but as soon as the man unzipped his pants, she dropped to her knees. After a little hesitation, she started sucking. The big black cock in her mouth throbbed and made her pussy ache with jealousy. Charles wrapped her arms around the man’s legs as he pressed a hand to the back of her head, practically choking her with his dick.

                “Mmph, mmph, mmmmph,” Charles moaned, occasionally glancing up at her man. A thin line of precum connected her lips to the tip of his dick when he’d finally had enough. Both of them were breathing heavily, and no words were needed as the man stood Charles up before bending her over into his open back seat. He skillfully rolled a condom on with one hand as he caressed Charles’s thick ass with the other, leaving her to wonder and anticipate what this was going to feel like for a few long, dreamy minutes.

                “Eeeeyes, ohmigod…!” Charles moaned in voices she didn’t know she had as she was rhythmically pounded. With the man’s hands clutching the sides of her ass, the real thing felt infinitely better than any toy, and she had to painfully pull her tits up and out of her tank top to give them the air they needed through all of her sweat. The man’s speed began to increase, and Charles had to bite into the leathery car seat with a face as red as a tomato to stop herself from choking on her own saliva and from screaming at the top of her lungs in ecstasy.

                Drenched in sweat and hair sprawled everywhere, Charles trembled as she tried to stand, unable to move her legs properly after her date had finished. He pulled off his condom and emptied the cum down onto Charles’s arched back before ending with a hard smack to her ass. Many long minutes passed before Charles could attempt to stand, paralyzed by her own orgasm and satisfaction. Her date helped her up, and she balanced herself against the car when she wobbled.

                “That was amazing,” Charles breathed, looking up at the man. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached for one more passionate kiss, never having felt so safe and loved within a man’s arms before. She was hoping that he would invite her to his home, but he ended up driving off into the night once they both resumed their stability. As Charles returned to her senses, she realized that they hadn’t even exchanged names, and that she’d just been emasculated in ways that she could never mentally undo.

                It wasn’t all bad. Charles woke up feeling like a queen the next morning, even if she would have preferred to do so next to last night’s date. Now that that’s out of my system, maybe I can focus… she thought, returning her thoughts to the fourth and presumably final injection that she hadn’t worked on. While she was able to finally buckle down and resume some of the activities she’d been neglecting, like science and reading, it didn’t feel the same. Her mind was always buzzing, wanting to try newer clothing and things like posting photos on Instagram or TikTok.

                As more men continued to hit on her throughout the week, Charles realized just how easy it was to satisfy her needs at any given time. After half-assing her fourth injection over the course of a few days, she let loose again with the presumption that it would be her last chance to experience sex as a woman. The cycle continued for months. Charles would keep creating new countermeasures to her already-finalized feminization, then treat herself with men at all angles to celebrate the supposed end of her female body. However, the only further developments her body made were artificial, with Charles bleaching her long hair, fattening her plump lips, and piercing and tanning her body. Her social media followings also grew fast, and she loved pleasing her fans with vlogs and teasing photos.

                With each passing month, Charles – or as she now called herself, Chara – found it harder and harder to develop biological serums for herself. In fact, anything that didn’t promote her socials, make her look and feel better, or involve sex, became very difficult to commit to. She’d been fucking so many men that she couldn’t even recall her first rodeo in the back seat of a black man’s car despite the traumatic effects that followed after.

                "Heyyy guysss," Chara cooed to her phone one morning, recording a video for TikTok. “I like have this super nerdy lab down here, lemme show you… Like I spent fuckin’ years down here,” she giggled as if she couldn’t believe her own words despite knowing they were true. “This shit got me uber rich, but like, I dunno. It’s so crazy, like I don’t think I could do it anymore? Like all this science stuff just goes waaaay over my head, so like, I thought it’d be fun to send it off! Cuz I want to use this space for some fun stufffffff!”

                Chara propped her phone up against a few dusty books on a table. Smiling and dancing at the camera, she began to light her documents and equipment on fire, cheering and screaming in celebration. “Wooohoooo!!! No more science stuff!” Not considering the consequences of her actions, the celebrations soon turned into anxious coughing and crying as the fire spread. With running mascara, she eventually grabbed her phone and ran upstairs and out the door, abruptly ending the recording to call the fire department.

                Despite her sobbing and anxiety over what could have been the end of her and her large house, Chara couldn’t help but notice how sexy the firemen were as they rushed to stop the flames from rising and consuming the ground floor level. One of them grabbed her to pull her away from the scene, erasing nearly all sense of worry and panic from the horny airhead.

                A while had passed, and it was determined that only Chara’s basement had been completely lost to the flames. As the firemen prepped the basement and ground floor to be ready for re-entry, Chara seduced one of the men and was making out with him behind the firetruck. She couldn’t get enough of his ragged glove holding her thigh as she rose her leg against his body, or his tired eyes that originally only had the full intent of saving her life. Tracing a long, manicured nail around his mouth and cheeks, she wanted nothing more than to be fucked senseless by a strong man in uniform.

                The firemen returned just as Chara was getting ready to suck the man’s cock. She was afraid that the magic was about to end, but she instinctively cooed: “I just wanted to reward y’all for helpin’ me out here…I reallyyyy appreciate it…” The men looked at each other awkwardly, with the one in front of Chara looking the most embarrassed. Finally, another man approached her from behind and led her down onto her knees, holding the back of her head and grabbing her hair. In silent agreement, the other men soon followed. Before Chara knew it, she was getting a train run on her in the back of the truck by the whole fire department. Chara’s body and mouth were covered in hot, steamy cum that she couldn’t wipe off before round two, which practically left her paralyzed from the ass down. God, I can’t wait to start another fire…mmmm~