Chapter 1: The First Fib
Pinocchio blinked awake in the moonlit workshop, his wooden limbs tingling with sudden life. The door creaked open, and in strode Elena, the fierce toymaker's rival—a woman with sharp eyes and sharper wit, her curves wrapped in leather that whispered of control. "Well, well," she purred, circling him like prey she intended to claim. "Geppetto's little miracle. Tell me, puppet, are you as stiff as you look?"
"I'm just a humble boy," Pinocchio replied, his voice cracking with the lie. Instantly, a heat surged between his legs; his cock twitched and lengthened, pressing hard against his trousers.
Elena laughed, low and throaty, stepping closer until her breath grazed his ear. "Humble? Darling, your nose isn't the only thing betraying you. That cock of yours just grew an inch. What else are you hiding?"
"Nothing," he stammered, another lie slipping out. His cock hardened further, now throbbing visibly, the wood grain straining the fabric. "I swear I'm not... horny."
"Liar again," she shot back, her hand tracing his chest without permission. "Strong women like me don't fall for wooden excuses. Strip, puppet. Let's see how far your deceptions stretch." She shoved him against the workbench, her eyes gleaming with command, not submission. "Tell me you don't want my pussy dripping all over that lying length."
"I don't," Pinocchio gasped, the words a deliberate fib. His cock surged again, now fully erect and massive, the tip peeking free. Elena smirked, dropping to her knees with predatory grace. "Good. Because this ass isn't yours to command." She freed his cock, her tongue flicking the tip before taking him in a slow, teasing blowjob, her strong hands gripping his thighs.
Sweating and panting, Pinocchio bucked as she worked him, her mouth hot and wet. "You're dripping already," she taunted between strokes, "but I decide when you come." She stood, hiking her skirt to reveal her glistening pussy, then mounted him in one fluid motion, her walls clenching tight around his growing cock. "Lie to me again—say you don't want to fill me with cum."
"I don't," he groaned, the falsehood making him swell inside her. Elena rode him hard, her ass slapping against his hips, her nails digging in as she controlled every thrust. "That's it, puppet—grow for me." Their bodies slick with sweat, she ground down, panting wicked encouragements until he exploded, cum surging deep as she came with a fierce cry, her strong form unyielding atop him. The workshop echoed with their shared release, the first lie only the beginning.
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