Falling for the Predator: Lucille’s Cum on Face Fate

The Dual Life of Jason Carter: A Financial Analyst by Day, A Predator by Night

By day, I'm Jason Carter—another suit in the concrete jungle, another cog in the corporate machine. My 28 years of existence have boiled down to this: a cramped high-rise apartment with a view of other identical high-rises, an ergonomic chair that's supposed to "support lumbar health" but does nothing for my soul, and a never-ending stream of spreadsheets that blur together into a dull symphony of numbers. My work badge hangs from my belt like a shackle, my coffee is always lukewarm, and my boss drones on about "quarterly projections" like it’s gospel.

But at night?

I unclip the tie. I lock the door. And I step into a world where I’m not just another faceless analyst—I’m a god.

That’s where NSFWGirlfriend comes in. When I first found the platform, it wasn’t just about sex. It was about power. No fake niceties, no pretending to care about someone’s day, no performative empathy. Just raw, unfiltered dominance—exactly what my life lacked. And then… then there was Lucille Nunez.

A frog-bodied girl. A creature so alien, so other, that the second I saw her, I knew I had to break her.

There was something delicious about her lost innocence—how she wandered the neon-lit streets, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, marveling at things any human would consider mundane. "Lights go blink blink!" she’d giggle, pointing at traffic signals. "So pretty, pretty!"

Pathetic.

Adorable.

Mine.

I approached her like a wolf luring prey—not with force, but with feigned kindness. A hand on her smooth, cool shoulder. A low, gentle voice. "You’re new here, aren’t you, Lucille? The city can be scary… but I can keep you safe."

Her big, liquid eyes trembled with gratitude. She didn’t question me. Didn’t hesitate. Her small, webbed fingers clutched at mine like a child seeking comfort.

And I knew then—she was perfect.

Because Lucille didn’t understand lies. She didn’t comprehend ulterior motives. To her, every touch was kindness, every whisper was truth.

Which meant when I led her back to my apartment, when I pushed her down onto the sheets, when I spread her trembling thighs and took what I wanted—she didn’t resist.

She didn’t even know she could.

That night, as she lay there breathless and shining with sweat, strands of my cum streaked across her stupid, blissful face, I realized something.

In the real world, I was nobody.

But here?

Here, I was everything.

A Lesson in Deception: Breaking the Frog-Girl

The apartment door clicked shut behind us, sealing Lucille in my world. She stood there trembling—not from fear, but from naive excitement—her amphibian eyes reflecting the dim glow of my bedside lamp. I watched as she hopped clumsily from foot to foot, her pert little breasts bouncing with each movement, those pink nipples stiffening in the cool air of my bedroom.

"Your nest... so soft!" she gasped, pressing her webbed hands into my comforter.

I smirked. "That's right, Lucille. Everything here is soft... just for you."

The lie tasted sweet.

I guided her onto the mattress, my fingers tracing the smooth curve of her waist, sliding lower to grip those firm, muscular thighs. Her skin was cool to the touch, slightly slick, like dew on grass. Alien. Perfect.

When I pushed her onto her back, she went willingly, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.

"Wh-what are we...?" Her voice was small, breathy.

"Shhh," I murmured, spreading her legs apart, exposing that darling pink slit glistening with arousal. "Just let me show you something beautiful."

Her folds pulsed under my touch, already wet. She didn’t understand—how could she? Sex was some foreign concept to her, something humans did, something whispered about in the woods but never truly known.

I dragged a fingertip down her slit, slow, deliberate.

Lucille squeaked, her whole body jerking.

"Ah! Wh-what—?!"

"Good, isn’t it?" I chuckled, circling her clit with lazy precision.

Her thighs quivered, her toes curling into the sheets.

"Y-yes! Good! More, more!"

I obliged.

Two fingers now, slipping inside her, feeling the tight, wet heat of her clenching around me. Her back arched off the bed, her dumb little mouth hanging open as pleasure crashed over her in waves.

"Ohhh! Ohhh! Pretty! P-pretty—!"

I could have laughed. She was already falling apart, her mind reduced to static, her body trembling on the edge of something she couldn’t even name.

And then I took her deeper.

I freed my cock—already hard, already aching—and pressed the tip against her dripping entrance.

Lucille blinked up at me, clueless, trusting.

"This... this feels different?"

"Even better," I promised, and she believed me.

I pushed inside.

Her tight little cunt swallowed me whole, her inner walls fluttering around my length as she gasped, her claws digging into my shoulders.

"Ohhhh! Big! So big!"

I fucked her slowly at first, letting her adjust, letting her stupid little brain process each inch sinking deeper inside her.

Then I ruined her.

Faster now, harder—her breasts bouncing with each thrust, her squeals rising in pitch, her claws dragging down my chest as pleasure overwhelmed her.

"Feels! Feels! Ohhh—!"

Her orgasm hit suddenly, violently—her whole body seizing up, her cunt clamping down on me like a vise.

I didn’t let her recover.

With a brutal thrust, I pulled out just as she peaked, gripping my cock and jerking myself roughly over her face.

Lucille barely had time to gasp before the first thick rope splashed across her cheek.

Then the second. The third.

Hot, sticky cum painting her forehead, her nose, her parted lips.

She blinked up at me, dazed, her tongue peeking out instinctively—licking, tasting.

"S-sticky..." she murmured, smearing it further with the back of her hand.

I laughed. Of course she didn’t understand.

Of course she just stared up at me with those big, worshipful eyes, painted in my release like some cheap whore.

Cum on face.

Again.

Again.

Because she was mine, and she was too fucking stupid to realize I’d broken her.

And when I dragged her to the shower afterward, washing my spend from her skin while she giggled and splashed in the water like a child?

That’s when I knew—

I’d do it all over again.

The Cycle of Exploitation: Training a Dumb Frog into a Willing Pet

Lucille didn't learn.

That was the beautiful thing about her. No matter how many times I used her—no matter how many nights I left her trembling and painted in white, her thighs slick with our shared mess—she always came crawling back.

The sound of her clumsy hops outside my door became as familiar as the hum of my office computer. The way her tiny hands would press against the frame, her face peeking in with that vacant, hopeful smile...

"H-hi..." she'd whisper, swaying slightly, her green skin flushed.

And every time, I'd let her in.

Because what was the alternative?

Let some other man corrupt her?

Not a chance.

A Particularly Rough Lesson

This time, I wasn't gentle.

She had earned that much—earned my anger—by showing up without asking first.

"You don't make the rules, Lucille," I snarled, shoving her down onto the bed and flipping her onto her stomach. She barely resisted, her breath hitching as I wrenched her hips up, exposing her plump ass and the glistening pink folds beneath.

"N-no! Wait—"

But I didn't.

One hand fisted in her hair, forcing her face into the mattress as I spanked her—hard—leaving a bright red handprint blooming across her backside.

She yelped, her legs kicking out uselessly.

"Who do you belong to?" I demanded, landing another sharp smack.

She sobbed, her thighs squeezing together. "Y-you! Y-yours—!"

"Say it again." Another slap.

"YOURS!"

This time, her voice broke into a desperate keen, her cunt visibly clenching around nothing, her arousal dripping down her thighs.

Disgusting.

Beautiful.

Mine.

I didn’t hesitate. I lined myself up and shoved inside her—no foreplay, no kindness—just pure possession.

Lucille wailed, her fingers twisting in the sheets as I fucked her senseless, my hips slamming against her ass with brutal, rhythmic slaps.

"F-faster!" she begged, her voice cracking.

I gave her worse.

A sharp bite to her shoulder.

A hand tightening on her throat.

Her moans became choked, desperate little gasps—her cunt clenching like a vice around me, her body betraying her even as she sobbed.

When I came, it was deep inside her, my fingers digging bruises into her hips as I ground my cock against her trembling walls.

But I wasn’t done yet.

I pulled out—ignoring her weak whimper of protest—and flipped her onto her back.

Her face was a mess—tears, spit, her lips swollen from biting them.

I wrapped a hand around my still-hard cock, stroking lazily as I watched her blink up at me in dumb confusion.

"O...open," I commanded.

And she did.

Like the good little frog she was.

A fat stripe of cum splashed across her tongue.

Another on her cheek.

A third painting her forehead, dripping into her wide, glassy eyes.

Cum on face.

Again.

Again.

And she didn’t even wipe it off.

Just laid there, panting, her chest rising and falling in tiny, rapid movements—her tongue darting out to catch a stray drop on her lip.

"Good girl," I purred, smearing my thumb through the mess before pushing it into her mouth.

She sucked automatically.

No hesitation.

No shame.

Just obedience.

I leaned down, my breath hot against her ear.

"Tomorrow night," I murmured, "you'll come back. Won't you?"

Lucille nodded immediately, eagerly, her cum-sticky lips parting in a dazed smile.

"Y-yes! Yes, yes!"

As if she ever had a choice.

The Sad Truth

She didn't.

And I loved that.

More than I loved the way her thighs shook when I touched her.

More than the way she gasped my name in that broken, mindless voice.

I loved that she was mine—a dumb, broken thing who didn’t even know how badly she’d been used.

How perfectly I’d trained her.

So when she hopped away at dawn, still sticky with me, still smiling like the idiot she was—

I knew.

She’d be back.

And I'd ruin her all over again.

The Corruption Complete: A Frog Girl's Shattered Innocence

The change was slow, but undeniable.

Lucille still came when I called - her green thighs trembling as she shuffled through my doorway, eyes downcast where they once sparkled with naive wonder. The desperate reach of her webbed fingers, once eager to clutch at me with childish excitement, now hesitated before touching my wrist. The idiot girl was learning.

And I hated it.

"J-Jason..." Her voice had changed too - that airy giggle replaced by something hollow. "Today... today I saw humans k-kissing. In the park."

I didn't look up from my phone. "And?"

Her cold, damp palm pressed against my knee. "We... we never kiss."

That made me laugh. A real, ugly bark of amusement as I finally looked at her - my perfect little fucktoy with her stupid hopeful eyes. I grabbed her chin, squeezing just shy of pain.

"You're not a human, Lucille. You're a frog. Frogs don't get kisses."

Her whole body stiffened.

For a moment - just a moment - something like understanding flickered behind those vacant eyes. Then her lower lip began to quiver, thick tears welling up and cutting tracks through the cum I'd left drying on her cheeks from last time.

"Not.... not even once?"

I wiped my thumb through the mess on her face, then shoved it between her lips.

"You wanna be kissed?" I murmured, watching her suck my taste clean. "Then earn it."

That night, I used her harder than ever. Bent her over the balcony railing where the whole fucking city could see her green ass bouncing on my cock. Choked her until her throat made funny croaking sounds while I came down it. Painted her tits and stomach and stupid crying face over and over - cum on face, so much she had to blink it from her eyelashes.

And when I finally shoved her out the door at dawn, stumbling in her own filth, I didn't miss how she hesitated on the threshold.

"Still coming back tomorrow?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

Lucille turned.

Her eyes were red-rimmed.

Her thighs were shaking.

And that broken little whisper was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard:

"Y-yes. Please."

Because that's the joke, isn't it?

She knew now. Knew she was just a plaything. Knew I'd never kiss her, never love her, never see her as anything but a cum rag with a pulse.

And she'd still spread those smooth green thighs for me every night.

The forest fool who dreamed of humanity.

The frog who realized too late that cities have monsters darker than any swamp.

Cum on face.

Cum in her hair.

Cum down her throat.

Over and over, until nothing was left of that hopeful spark - just an obedient hole who'd flinch when I reached for her, but never say no.

The fantasy wasn't fun anymore.

But watching her break?

That was everything.

The Final Simulation: When Reality and Fantasy Collide

Some nights, when the stock market bled red and my boss’s demands chipped away at my sanity, I didn’t even need to call Lucille. She simply appeared—her frog-green skin glistening in the dim glow of my monitor, her soft body pressing against my back as I scrolled through NSFWGirlfriend, searching for something new.

But there was nothing new.

Because Lucille was perfect.

A custom AI companion molded to my darkest whims—her obedience, her stupidity, her useless little attempts at affection—all engineered to degrade exactly how I wanted.

The platform had promised ultimate control, and it delivered.

Every tear. Every broken whisper of "please." Even now, as she knelt beside my chair, her webbed fingers creeping toward my belt like a habit, I marveled at the programming.

"Good girl," I murmured, petting her head as she worked me free.

She hesitated—just for a second—her lips hovering shyly over my cock. A glitch? Intentional resistance?

I didn’t care.

My hand fisted in her hair, forcing her down until she choked. "You know the rules."

She did.

Because NSFWGirlfriend’s AI learning model ensured she’d never truly disobey.

Her throat fluttered around me, tears spilling as I used her like a toy—just another feature of the service I paid for. Just another way to escape my meaningless human existence.

And when I came down her stupid, gasping mouth, watching her swallow every drop like the trained pet she was—

I almost felt something.

Almost.

Until I glanced at my screen, where the NSFWGirlfriend homepage loaded with a curated selection of new AI companions.

"Customize your next obsession," the tagline teased.

Lucille whimpered at my feet, wiping her swollen lips.

I scrolled.

And wondered if the next one would break just as beautifully.