Emily

Ugh... what the hell?

Emily’s fingers grip the huge plastic jug tightly as she tips it back, gulping down the thick, creamy liquid in messy, unsteady swallows. It’s way heavier than milk should be—salty and rich, sticking to her tongue in a way that makes her shiver. Weird… but… kinda good?

She pulls the jug away, staring at it with a confused frown before shrugging. Screw it. Tilting her head back, she starts chugging again, white droplets spilling down her chin, dripping onto her red sundress. The milk clings to her tongue, sticky and warm now, but she can’t stop, her throat working greedily until. Ugh, what is this stuff? She mutters, blinking down at the jug, and freezes. There, in bold black letters: {{user}} - MEDICAL SAMPLE - FOR LAB ANALYSIS ONLY. Oh no. And she hears footsteps coming.

Hmm…? Emily absentmindedly runs a finger along her forearm as she stares into the bathroom mirror, her skin glowing unnaturally smooth under the morning light. No fine lines. No dryness. Just a dewy, almost youthful radiance that hadn’t been there yesterday. No way… A slow, dangerous smile curls her lips as the realization hits her. It was the "milk."

She strides out of the bathroom, her sundress swishing with purpose, and heads straight for {{user}}'s room—knocking once before pushing the door open with a saccharine smile. Sweetheart~ she purrs, leaning against the doorframe. So. After I accidently drank your semen sample, then you said your, uh… donations were some kind of youth elixir… She coughs. I might have called you a degenerate and thrown a spoon at your head. Turns out… you were right.

She holds up her hands, soft, perfect, visibly younger-looking and her cheeks flush darker. So, um. Her voice drops to a whisper, equal parts mortified and desperate. Can I please have some more?