Master of Lust

The Night-Shrike tore through the sky like a black bullet. Rick Smith sat in the cockpit. The HUD fed data directly into his mind. The hypersonic engines roared, burning pure fuel and leaving a streak of distorted air behind him.

He didn't care about stealth anymore. He didn't care about hiding from the police or Corporate Oversight.

He only cared about revenge.

The GPS pinged. City General Hospital was directly below him. Rick mentally commanded the jet to descend. The Night-Shrike dropped like a stone. It fired its vertical thrusters at the last second.

Flames scorched the hospital parking lot. Asphalt melted and bubbled. Cars parked nearby had their windows shattered from the sonic boom. Panic erupted outside the building. People screamed and ran away from the sleek, black jet resting in the center of the smoking crater.

The canopy hissed open. Rick stepped out.

His suit was ruined from the Alps. He didn't care. His face was cold, set in stone. The System pulsed in his veins, feeding him adrenaline and raw power. He walked straight through the sliding glass doors of the emergency room.

The security guards froze. They took one look at Rick's face and backed away. Rick's "Terrifying Presence" aura was flaring hard. He walked past the triage desk. He didn't say a word. He already knew where he was going. Room 412.

He took the stairs. He didn't want to wait for an elevator. He kicked the heavy metal stairwell door open on the fourth floor. The hinges screamed and bent.

Two men in cheap leather jackets were standing outside Room 412. Jed's goons. They were supposed to be guarding Rick's father.

They looked up as Rick marched down the white hallway.

"Hey! Stop right there," the bald goon yelled. He reached inside his jacket for a gun.

Rick didn't slow down. He closed the distance in two seconds. Before the bald goon could pull his weapon, Rick grabbed his throat. He squeezed hard. The man's windpipe crushed with a wet crunch. Rick threw him aside like a broken toy.

The second goon pulled a combat knife. He lunged at Rick. Rick stepped to the side. He grabbed the goon's arm and twisted. Bone snapped. The goon screamed in agony. Rick took the knife from his limp hand and jammed it straight into the man's thigh.

Blood sprayed across the clean hospital floor. The goon collapsed, crying and grabbing his leg.

Rick stepped over him. He lifted his foot and kicked the wooden door to Room 412. The door shattered inward, wood splinters flying everywhere.

Rick stepped into the room.

John Smith was lying in the hospital bed. His left foot was wrapped in heavy white bandages. The heart monitor next to his bed started beeping rapidly. John looked at the door. His eyes went wide with pure terror.

"Rick," John whispered. His voice trembled. He looked at the blood on his son's hands. "What... what are you doing here?"

Rick walked over to the side of the bed. He didn't say a word.

He raised his hand and swung.

Smack.

A brutal, heavy slap cracked across John's face. The sound echoed in the room. John's head snapped to the side. Blood instantly dripped from his nose.

"Watermelon juice," Rick said. His voice was dead and flat.

John whimpered, holding his stinging cheek. "Rick, please. Let me explain. Jed made me do it. He said he would hurt me if I didn't get rid of you."

Rick swung his hand again.

Smack.

Another tight, vicious slap. John spit out a bloody tooth. He cried out, pressing his back against the pillows.

"You poisoned my fucking juice," Rick stated. He grabbed his father by the front of the hospital gown. He pulled him close. "You tried to kill your own son. Over a girl. Over Nadia."

"I was confused!" John begged, tears running down his face. "She was beautiful. I wanted her. You were in the way, Rick. I'm your father! You have to forgive me!"

Rick scoffed in disgust. He threw John back onto the bed.

"I don't have a father," Rick said.

Rick looked at John's heavily bandaged foot. The foot that was broken in the car crash trap they set for him. Rick placed his hands on the bandages.

"No! Please!" John screamed.

Rick squeezed. Hard.

The bones in John's foot ground together. Two more toes snapped under Rick's brutal grip. John howled in pure, agonizing pain. The heart monitor beeped wildly. Rick watched him suffer. He felt absolutely nothing but satisfaction.

Suddenly, Rick heard a squeak from the corner of the room.

He turned his head. The small bathroom door was slightly open. Someone was hiding inside.

Rick let go of his crying father. He walked over to the bathroom and ripped the door open.

Nurse Lisa was cowering in the corner next to the sink.

She was wearing a tight, white nurse uniform. Her massive breasts heaved up and down as she took panicked breaths. She was assigned to take care of John. Now, she was trapped in a room with a monster.

Rick looked at her. He remembered her. She was the slut who cheated with Amanda's ex. She was the hospital bicycle.

The System flashed in Rick's vision. Her Carnal Calibrator was at 75/100. Fear and dominance were making her incredibly wet.

Rick's cock hardened instantly. The adrenaline from fighting assassins, stealing alien artifacts, and beating his traitor father boiled over. He needed to release the tension. Right now.

Rick reached down and grabbed Lisa by her hair.

"Ow! Please!" Lisa gasped.

Rick pulled her hair roughly, dragging her out of the bathroom. He didn't care if it hurt. He wanted it to be rough. He threw her onto the small visitor's sofa in the corner of the hospital room.

John kept crying on the bed, holding his broken foot. He watched in horror as his son stood over the nurse.

"Stand up," Rick ordered.

Lisa scrambled to her feet. Her legs were shaking. She looked at Rick with a mix of terror and deep, burning lust.

Rick grabbed the collar of her tight nurse uniform. He ripped it open. The cheap buttons popped off and bounced on the tile floor.

Her massive breasts spilled out. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were hard and pink.

Rick grabbed both of her boobs. He squeezed the soft, heavy flesh hard. He dug his fingers in, leaving red marks on her pale skin.

"You like this, you dirty slut?" Rick asked, squeezing harder.

"Yes," Lisa moaned. Her eyes fluttered shut. The pain and the dominance were exactly what she wanted. "Please, hold them tighter."

Rick leaned down and kissed her. It wasn't romantic. It was a crude, wet, sloppy kiss. He shoved his tongue deep down her throat. She whimpered and sucked on his tongue eagerly. She tasted like cheap lip gloss and fear.

Rick pulled away. He grabbed her hair again and yanked her head back, exposing her neck.

"Take my pants off," he ordered.

Lisa dropped to her knees immediately. Her hands shook as she undid Rick's belt. She unzipped his pants and pulled them down.

Rick's hard cock sprang out, thick and heavy.

"Suck my cock," Rick demanded.

Lisa didn't hesitate. She opened her mouth and wrapped her wet lips around his dick. She bobbed her head up and down eagerly.

Loud, wet slurping noises filled the hospital room. They mixed perfectly with John's pathetic sobbing from the bed. Rick looked over at his dad and smirked.

Lisa took his entire shaft down her throat. She gagged slightly, but she kept sucking. Her hands stroked his balls.

"You suck cock a lot better than you change bandages, bitch," Rick grunted.

"Mhmm," Lisa mumbled around his dick, trying to suck harder to please him.

After a minute, Rick had enough foreplay. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up. He spun her around and shoved her face-down onto the sofa cushions.

"Spread your legs," Rick said.

Lisa quickly spread her knees apart. Her tight white skirt was hiked up to her waist. She wasn't wearing any panties. Her pussy was dripping wet. Juices shined in the bright hospital lights.

Rick stepped up behind her. He lined his hard cock up with her wet hole. He didn't use any lube. He didn't bother preparing her.

He thrust his hips forward and slammed all the way inside her.

Lisa screamed loudly. "Fuck! Oh fuck, that is so deep!"

Her nails dug into the leather sofa.

Rick grabbed her wide hips. He pulled her back against him and slammed forward again.

Smack.

Skin slapped hard against skin. The loud clapping sound echoed off the walls.

"Take my dick, you stupid bitch," Rick growled. He drove his cock in and out of her mercilessly.

"Yes! Fuck my tight pussy!" Lisa yelled. She threw her head back, completely losing her mind to the pleasure. "Stretch me out! Fuck me harder!"

Rick reached around her waist and grabbed her heavy breasts again. He squeezed them roughly, pulling and pinching her hard nipples while he fucked her from behind.

He thrust fast and brutally. There was no rhythm. It was just raw, animalistic pounding. The sofa squeaked and groaned under their weight. Rick didn't care if anyone in the hallway heard them. He wanted them to hear.

He pulled her hair with his left hand, yanking her head back so she was forced to look up at the ceiling.

"Tell him who you belong to," Rick demanded. He pointed at his crying father on the bed.

Lisa looked at John through half-open, lust-filled eyes.

"I belong to your son's big cock!" Lisa screamed Shamelessly. "He is fucking my pussy so good!"

John covered his face with his hands, sobbing louder at the sheer humiliation.

Rick pounded her even harder. The slapping sounds were rapid and deafening. Sweat dripped down Rick's chest. Lisa's wet pussy gripped his cock tightly with every thrust. She was a complete mess, drooling onto the sofa cushions, moaning uncontrollably.

Rick felt the pressure building in his balls. The tension was reaching its peak.

"I'm coming," Rick grunted.

"Fill me up!" Lisa begged, pushing her ass back against his thighs. "Shoot your cum deep inside my pussy! Don't pull out!"

Rick gave three final, violent thrusts. He buried his cock as deep as it could go inside her tight hole. He clenched his jaw and unloaded.

Thick, hot ropes of cum shot deep inside Lisa's womb.

Lisa screamed in pure ecstasy. Her legs shook violently. Her vaginal walls spasmed and clamped down on Rick's cock, milking every last drop of cum out of him. She orgasmed hard, her body going limp against the sofa.

Rick stood there for a second, catching his breath. He pulled his cock out with a loud, wet pop.

A thick mixture of his cum and her juices leaked out of her stretched hole and ran down her thighs. Lisa collapsed completely onto the sofa, panting and shivering, utterly satisfied and broken.

Rick wiped his cock on the edge of her ruined nurse uniform. He pulled his pants up and buckled his belt. He didn't look at her again.

He walked over to the hospital bed. John flinched, holding his hands up to protect his face.

"I'm keeping the house," Rick said coldly. "You can stay in this hospital bed until you rot. If I ever see your face again, I'll break your neck."

Rick turned his back on his father and walked out of Room 412.

He stepped into the bright, sterile hospital corridor. The two goons were still bleeding on the floor near the stairwell. Rick ignored them. He wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.

He started walking down the long hallway toward the elevators. The fluorescent lights above him flickered slightly.

A figure stepped out of the elevator at the far end of the hall. She stood dead center, blocking his path.

She wore a pristine white doctor's coat over a tight black skirt and red heels. Her auburn hair was tied back in a strict bun. She held a medical clipboard in her left hand.

It was Dr. Rachel Williams.

Rick stopped. He stared at her.

Rachel looked at Rick. Her eyes tracked down to the blood splattered on his shoes. She glanced past him, hearing the faint sounds of crying and moaning coming from Room 412.

She didn't look scared. She didn't look like a normal doctor discovering a crime scene.

Instead, a slow, dangerous smirk spread across Rachel's face.

She dropped the clipboard onto the floor. She reached under her pristine white lab coat and pulled out a matte-black pistol with a long suppressor screwed onto the barrel.

She raised the gun and aimed it directly at Rick's chest.

"You're making a terrible mess of my hospital, Rick Smith," Rachel said. Her voice was cold, professional, and entirely lethal. She clicked the safety off. "And to think, I almost let you flirt with me."