Making Chloe Mine (Part 4) [M/F, friends to lovers, breeding, semi-noncon, forced impregnation, milking, creampie, caretaking, gentledom, praise kink, virgin, first-time, possessive softcore]

******𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕝𝕠𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤𝕟’𝕥 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕖𝕩𝕦𝕒𝕝. 𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤, 𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 **𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕏𝕏𝕏’𝕤.** 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕕𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕜.*****

**Note from the author:**

Hey folks, my name is Aiden. This is my first time writing an erotic story (so keep that in mind.) The story alternates POV between Oliver and Chloe per chapter. If you notice any spelling or grammar mistakes, notify me and I will fix them.

This story is fantasy.

*Obviously, don’t rape people. Consensual non-consent is the way to go, if you’re into that. Use safe words and aftercare.*

**Summary:**

Chloe recalls her first time meeting Oliver and their childhood together. A party is thrown and she is left conflicted. Is Oliver who she thought he is?

******𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕝𝕠𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤𝕟’𝕥 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕖𝕩𝕦𝕒𝕝. 𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕤, 𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕝 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 **𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕏𝕏𝕏’𝕤.** 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕕𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕜.*****

**Part 4: Oliver’s true Colors (Chloe’s Perspective)**

A strong tailwind whips through the towering pines out the window. Mammoth cumulonimbus clouds stipple the sky in their typical northwest fashion, like freckles against the blue expanse. I’ve taken it upon myself to explore Oliver’s strange sprawling cabin. The crutches that I inch along with don’t particularly match my ruffled short white skirt.

He hasn’t laid a finger on me for so long now that I’m getting desperate. My neediness is becoming cringe worthy; I can’t help but hear my mother’s voice call me a “disgrace.”

*It’s been two days. Addict!*

As I turn the corner, an ominous wooden door with a strange white Noh mask of a young woman’s face greets me. Curiosity takes over and I creak the door open, jarred by the array of varied expressions. It must be his grandpa’s Noh theater mask room he told me about.

“I don’t go in there ‘cause it feels like hundreds of eyes on me- no thank you,” I recall him saying.

Looking at the bizarre display of faces covering every wall from floor to ceiling, I understand his hesitation. I hobble into the room, against my better judgement. My eyes catch on a Tamaya, the traditional memorial alter dedicated to the spirits of your deceased ancestors. A photo of Oliver’s grandma in the garden out back sits on the glossy paneling. A young Oliver and I stand by her side. We’re all holding hands with our arms up in the air, smiling triumphantly. Memories from those early days of our childhood flood my mind.

*“What is that?! A clump of rice! What’s that green square on it? Ugh, it stinks,” featureless faces taunt.*

In elementary school, kids would always make fun of my “weird” Japanese lunches. In reality, it was the most basic lunch possible: peach Calpico, onigiri, tamagoyaki, and a red bean mochi.

One day, a young boy shoved his way through the circle of kids making fun of me. He was a 5th grader; the big fish in the school yard.

*“Is this funny to you, idiots?” he shouts, snaps the lid on my bento box, and pulls me out of the group.*

I later found out his name was Oliver. When I played at his house for the first time, I was overjoyed at our similarities. His father was white, and his mom was Japanese. Just like mine!

Our parents swiftly became friends and we’ve been virtually glued to each other since. Never quite fitting in with the “asian kids” or the “white kids,” we mainly kept to ourselves until high school. Our families became one. When Oliver’s Dad died, they moved in with his grandfather. I would visit him in this magical cabin; at the time, it felt more like a castle.

The sound of the door creaking open shatters my daydream and I leap in fear. Oliver saunters towards me and peers over my shoulder.

“Ha! Look at your pigtails with the pink little bows,” he teases.

I look at the incense platters instead and notice there’s no dust on them.

“Do you practice Obon, like with Ozen offerings and everything? I thought this room creeped you out?” I question. I didn’t take him as the “honoring your ancestors’ spirits” type.

He nervously chews his lower lip. “Duty calls, you know?” he says, brushing off my query. “Jade and everyone want to come over tonight to ‘check on you,’ which means they want to party.”

I raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Should I run out to pick up some food, booze, and pot?”

“That’s a good idea. They eat like pigs. Oh, and high-CBD content weed, pretty please,” I request.

*Why was he acting like this? Is he grossed out because I squirted? Why are back to being “friends”?*

I hear his keys jingle in his pocket as he walks away. I’m left feeling like an abandoned little girl.

*Chloe! You need to be more independent. Stop relying on him for everything. Stop crying at the drop of a hat.*

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Before I know it, the afternoon has rolled around and my anxiety over Oliver’s neglect has become excruciating.

Everyone starts filing into the back yard’s fuzzy lantern-lit glow. Long graceful fingers interlock around my eyes; their owner is obvious.

“Hey mama, let me feel up on that tight ass,” she mimics in a frog-like baritone voice meant to be the impression of a “manly man.”

I wiggle out of her embrace, and Jade kisses both of my cheeks. Layla pushes past her, clearly upset.

“Quick, give me a valid reason why you didn’t answer my calls.” Layla sticks out a hand, holding an imaginary microphone, and raises her eyebrows. “Do you have any idea how freaked out I was? I forced Oliver to throw an impromptu party ‘cause you were being a little shit and ignoring me.”

Sighing, I begrudgingly apologize to my two best friends.

Jade shoots a glare at Oliver carrying a plate of chocolate covered strawberries to the cornucopia of food on the table, but he fails to notice. “Um, excuse me, why do you have a hickie? Jesus, are you in 7th grade?” Jade probes.

I slap my hand over the left side of my neck but am saved by a cacophony of male voices that resonate through the courtyard. Two of Oliver’s friends, Adrian and Ray, trek into view. Behind them, an unknown face appears. His white collared shirt blends into tousled platinum blond hair.

The two boys show up with sharpies in hand and immediately scrawl their names on my cast. I look down to find a small penis drawn on the back of my heel.

“Seriously Adrian? You’re twenty-six, not ten. I have graduate school interviews soon,” I chastise and throw him the finger. He shrugs in response.

The third man walks up and places my hand up to his mouth, kissing it softly. Reflexively, I pull it away.

*Creepy.*

He languidly raises his eyes to meet mine, unafflicted by my rejection. “Thanks for having me, my name is Lucas. I met Ray through his concept art for the latest Bluepoint game series.”

Behind Lucas, I make eye contact with conspicuously unamused Oliver. Lucas moves his head to break our reciprocal gaze.

“How do you know Ray?”

“Excuse me, I have something to take care of,” I jabber, trying to slide out of this tedious conversation.

He nods his head and steps to the side, opening the path to the increasingly large group of guests. Different faces swarm me and ask about my injury. I float through the sea of questions and embraces until I land on the sofa by the fire. Oliver strolls by and nonchalantly drops a fuzzy blanket on my lap, not even bothering to acknowledge me. One of my favorite songs, Tatsuro Yamashita’s “Love Talkin’,” plays through the stereo and I know he put it on for me.

As the night progresses, a blunt passes through my hand in the circular puff-puff-pass ritual we’ve had since high school. Everyone settles down around the fire and the jovial atmosphere sinks into my bones, despite Lucas squeezing in next to me. I rarely smoke because it hurts my lungs, but I figure it might help with my ankle pain.

“Ayyy Olive, throw me the aux,” Jade orders, using his grade school pet name. She snatches it, triumphantly taps her phone, and then slips her thigh over my leg so that she’s straddling me. Her fishnets and glossy black boots press against my knees, making a pattern of diamond imprints. The sultry saxophone of Van Jess’ “Slowdown” slinks through the night air and blends with Jade’s vodka aroma.

She leans into my ear and whispers, “you can’t be depressed with me on top of you.” I’m not surprised by her flirtatious words; Jade’s slept with most of the group. Her hips grind into my lap and I try to push her away, giggling. Lucas howls obnoxiously.

“Let’s give you a matching pair,” she threatens, leaning into my neck.

Behind Jade’s profile, I see Oliver’s knuckles clench into a fist. He sends an intensely wicked smile in my direction, and I’m forced to look away. Jade interlocks her fingers with mine and makes me dance like a puppet.

The cannabis seems to hit me all at once and I shove Jade off of me, stumbling through the kitchen doors. Oliver begins to stand up, but Ray shoves a napkin-drawing in his face, capturing his attention. Jade flops on the sofa, defeated.

I stand over the sink, feeling lightheaded. Footsteps sound behind me. “I’m not feeling well,” I mutter, expecting Oliver, but Lucas stands before me instead.

“Yeah? That can happen sometimes with pot – let’s get you somewhere quiet,” he offers, taking my hand. My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton and I can’t speak. He whisks me away to the guest room, oblivious of my aching ankle. The floral bedspread contrasts with his black slacks in this dreadfully silent room.

“You’re really red, like you’re overheating. Maybe you should take off your top…” he slyly suggests. The sound of the ceiling fan’s whirring is like a jet engine in my ears. His cold fingers dip under the bottom of my blouse and I shift away uncomfortably, trying to get this strange man’s hands to disappear.

Cold spikes of fear ripple through me.

*What should I do? I’m so high, I’m not sure I can even stand up.*

Light from the hallway illuminates Lucas’ sinful grasp on me. A tall black silhouette blockades the door.

“You fucking bastard!” Oliver roars. He rushes over and grabs Lucas by the collar, clenching furiously. The rings on his fingers look threatening under the dim light.

“Woah what’s your problem man? Is she your girlfriend or something?” Lucas demands.

Oliver grits his teeth, breathing heavily. His expression transforms from seething hatred to a dead stare.

“She’s my wife.”

*I’m so high that I must be hallucinating. I must have heard him wrong.*

Lucas freezes, examining the domineering face before him. He promptly paws at the comforter, attempting to inch away from Oliver’s haunting eyes.

“Yo man, I didn’t know- s-sorry dude. Let me go!” he pleads to no avail. I notice the beads of sweat on his forehead, like jeweled fear.

Oliver grabs his mop of hair, tugging him to his feet and dragging him down the hall. Through the thick cabin walls, I hear the crowd outside die down.

“Everyone, listen to me. This little asshole isn’t allowed in my house anymore. Go near Chloe again and I’ll fucking castrate you. Get out of my sight, dipshit!”

An empty pause of silence punctuates the stream of uncomfortable laughter. After some time, the brew of casual conversation and beat of an unidentifiable song carries on. My heart thumps up to my ears as the gravity of what just happened strikes. I fight the oncoming torrent of tears that threatens to pour out of me. The last thing I need right now is Oliver seeing me crying again. He’s always been like the old tremendous oak tree out in the yard, shading the other plants from the harsh heat of the scorching summer sun. He’s always responsible, even now. Everyone else is absolutely wasted, but Oliver is completely lucid.

He dashes into the room with a glass of lemon water in hand and places an arm around me.

XXX━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ XXX

“I’m so sorry Chloe, I…” he stops, noticing my shaky legs. “You’re okay love. You really think I’d let anyone hurt you?” he says, nuzzling the side of my neck. His warm touch relaxes my tense muscles and I lean into him.

“You don’t have to protect me! I’m sick of you doing everything for me, of being a burden!” I fume. His eyes glimmer as his hands run around my waist and down my spine.

“Don’t you understand yet?” he asks, gently kissing me. “Serving you is my purpose.” His big hands slide down to my ass and guide me to his lap. He breaks the kiss and hands me the lemon water.

“Come on, drink up. Lemon helps cut the pot.”

I sip, already feeling my anxiety subside.

“And how are you tonight, madam?” he questions, tilting his head playfully. His alluring features draw me in and I’m consumed by lust. I run my fingers through his dark hair up to the nape of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. His grip tightens on my ass as our tongues meet, swirling together in an explicit dance. Our hips unconsciously grind together, pressing something huge between my legs. I yank back in disbelief.

*Is that his…? Is that his cock?*

He flashes me a boastful, knowing grin and dives down to my neck, running his tongue along the sensitive skin. I suck in a breath, feeling close already. He chuckles and pushes his erection into my panties. With only a skirt, there’s just one layer of fabric between us.

“You know how long I’ve waited for this?”

He pushes my hips down onto his cock, rubbing my clit in agonizingly slow strokes. The wetness from my pussy coats his tight boxer briefs, causing his cock to twitch in response.

“Why did you stop touching me these past few days?” I question, almost begging. His lips, tongue, and hands simultaneously teasing me is making the room whirl.

“You needed to recover before you could take my cock deep inside you, love. Duh,” he growls and tenderly bites my lower lip. His words carry me to a place of feverish want. I push him down onto the bed and yank his boxers down his legs. The sight of his huge, gorgeous, cock makes saliva run down my lips.

*I want him in my mouth so badly.*

As I draw closer to it, he pulls me up to his lips.

“I’ll teach you that later, honey. For now, I need you to take your panties off for me, okay?”

I pout a bit but follow his commands, as if they were the incantations of spell work. The minute I’m back over him, he presses my bare pussy onto his cock. It’s almost so hot that it burns and I try to spring back, but he holds me in place.

“Don’t run away, I want to tease you more,” Oliver pants. I feel pressure on my clit as his thumb works into me. My whole body responds to his touch, edging me closer to an orgasm.

“Mmmmm…yeah? Show me that face again.”

I feel my pussy tighten and my nipples spark with excitement. Just as I’m cumming, he slides his cock back to my vagina and violates it with a deep stroke.

A moan forces its way out of my chest through my lips as I squirt all over his cock.

“Look at me Chloe.”

*It feels so good…I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die…*

I look down at him and place my hands on his chest. My boobs squeeze together, rising and falling with each breath.

“From now on I own you. Okay? Is that okay?” he asks, rubbing deep inside me with his throbbing cock. My eyes roll back as I take his full length.

I nod timidly and soak in the sight of his rosy cheeks. In this lustful state, he’s reminiscent of a twisted prince.

“Ahhh, it’s so warm inside…” Oliver pushes even deeper inside me, stretching out my tight pussy. “I want to stay like this forever.”

He resumes massaging my clit with his thumb. Every last fragment of rationality escapes me and all I can think about is how good fucking him feels. I glide my hips back and forth, grinding his cock even further into me.

*Nothing matters anymore but this feeling.*

He brings his hand up to my neck and gently squeezes. The warm metal rings press against my sensitive skin. I ride him urgently, wanting something but not knowing exactly what it is.

“I’m ‘gonna fill you with my cum Chloe. Did you know that? I’m ‘gonna shoot my cum right into your womb,” he announces, impaling me on his swelling cock.

*Oh god – I can’t cum anymore. It’s too much!*

A voice from what must be my last remaining brain cell informs me that I’m not on birth control; I had given up on the possibility of sex. In hindsight, with Oliver filling me to the brim, I understood how ridiculous that notion was. He plans everything to an almost obsessive degree.

*Had he planned for this?*

“I wasn’t kidding before. You’re ‘gonna be my wife. I’ll fill you with cum every day until you’re pregnant.” His words entice me to a climax and my pussy fiercely attempts to suck the cum out of him.

“You’re doing such a good job milking my cock Chloe.”

Alarm strikes me. I try to force myself off of him but he grasps the thick sides of my butt and thrusts into me.

“Uh-uh. I know you’re unprotected, baby. Be a good girl and take my cum.”

His cock pulses within me and he pushes his cock against my cervix. Groaning, he forces his way inside me, lifting his thighs off the bed.

“You’re mine. No one else can have you. No one else can touch you this way or see your heavenly parts that belong to me. No one else can use this little pussy, do you understand?”

“Yes, yes I understand Oliver…” I moan in ecstasy as I collapse on to him. He firmly holds me in his arms while an unfamiliar sensation of warmth emerges from my womb. I weakly attempt to push against him but I’m caught in his embrace.

“That’s right, take my cum. Good girl. Good girl, Chloe…” he says and gingerly kisses me.

With his hot cum dripping out of my pussy, I’m caught between two worlds. Yes, he had just blown my mind and dominated every part of my being, but he had also forced a creampie into me.

*Is this the real Oliver, the one he keeps hidden?*

I lay my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. Outside, the sounds of the party drift through the walls.

**Links to songs in this chapter:**

[Tatsuro Yamashita’s “Love Talkin'”](https://youtu.be/cacxFFAzq4I)

[Van Jess’ “Slowdown”](https://open.spotify.com/track/7qXu5zUjLP4ZAP12QOZRX5?si=4e754e1ffaf340e2)

**Links to previous chapters:**

[Part 1: Determination (Oliver’s Perspective)](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uu5key/making_chloe_mine_part_1_mf_breeding_friends_to/)

[Part 2: Part 2: Almost Done (Chloe’s Perspective)](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uua42e/making_chloe_mine_part_2_mf_breeding_friends_to/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)

[Part 3: Chloe’s secret (Oliver’s Perspective)](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uuftmg/making_chloe_mine_part_3_mf_breeding_friends_to/)

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/uv4q2e/making_chloe_mine_part_4_mf_friends_to_lovers