Episode 1: Tasted & Taken
Club Indulge throbbed with bass-heavy remixes, its velvet-lined walls echoing moans of approval for the night's star. Patrons lined the stage, their drinks forgotten, eyes locked on the vision in rhinestones and red hair.
Licious DeLovely.
She was art in motion--hips rolling like sex set to rhythm, tits pushed high in a sheer corset, her bulge prominent beneath her gemmed bodysuit. Her skin gleamed deep mocha under the lights, each curve commanding. Her lips sparkled like wine and sin. She winked mid-spin, then licked her top lip, igniting cheers.
Back at the bar, Brandon Williams took another sip of his Old Fashioned, savoring the smooth hit of top-shelf bourbon. It calmed his nerves, just barely.
He couldn't stop watching her.
He'd always been attracted to confident, beautiful women--cis and trans alike--but Licious was different. Licious was dangerous. Magnetic. Divine.
And she was walking straight toward him.
"Staring like that costs more than a drink," she purred, her eyes devouring him.
Brandon smiled, trying to seem cool despite the pulsing in his pants. "Then I guess I owe you one."
"Mmm. You do. And maybe a little more."
He flagged down the bartender, still stunned by her presence. They settled into two velvet stools tucked into the corner of the bar, candlelight flickering across their glasses and her cleavage.
She dabbed something pink and crystalline onto her finger and slid it across her tongue. "You indulge?"
He blinked. "That molly?"
"Mmm-hmm. Baby bump," she said. "Keeps the night warm."
He nodded. "A little."
She reached forward with her fingertip, gently touching his lower lip. "Open up."
He obeyed.
The powder buzzed slightly on his tongue, then turned to a sweet warmth crawling down his spine. She offered the blunt next--half-smoked, slow-burning. He inhaled deep, citrus and pine flooding his lungs.
"I like soft boys with bad intentions," she said. "You've got that look."
Her thigh brushed his. She didn't move it.
Licious leaned in close, her perfume a heady mix of oud, spice, and something dark. Her voice dipped into something velvet.
"You keep looking at me like you already know what I taste like."
Brandon smiled, eyes heavy-lidded. "You're just--really fucking sexy."
"Mmm. And what would you do," she murmured, tracing the rim of her glass, "if I told you I'm already hard under this outfit, thinking about making you gag on it?"
His cock twitched.
She noticed.
"Let me guess..." she whispered, lips brushing his ear. "You've jacked off to trans girls before. Porn. Big cocks. Pretty faces. You imagine fucking them, but the real fantasy--the one you don't admit--is being the one bent over."
He exhaled sharply. She was right.
"I have a bottle of Uncle Nearest 1884 waiting. Good music. A joint rolled just right. You can taste me," she said, stroking his inner thigh, "and if you're very good... I might let you worship the part of me that makes boys like you forget they're in charge."
She stood and offered her hand. "One night. No pressure. Just come see what surrender tastes like."
Brandon took her hand.
And followed her out into the night.
Her apartment was lush and low-lit--deep velvets, golden décor, scented candles burning clean. No weed smell hung in the air, just perfume and polish. It was sensual, elegant... predatory.
She poured them both a drink and kissed him as he swallowed. Her lips tasted of bourbon and danger.
"I'm going to show you something," she whispered, guiding him past her bedroom to a locked black door with a silver handle.
She didn't open it.
"Not yet," she said. "That's for another night."
She stripped him slowly, letting his cock spring free--thick, flushed, eager.
She didn't rush to undress herself. No, Licious was a performance, even in private.
When her catsuit peeled away and her cock swung into view, Brandon's breath hitched.
It was a masterpiece.
Long and heavy, her shaft curved just slightly upward, dark chocolate with thick, pronounced veins that pulsed as she stroked it once. The uncut head was swollen and glistening, foreskin soft and perfect. Her balls hung low, full and tight.
"You want it?" she asked.
"Yes," he whispered.
"Say it."
"I want your cock, Goddess. Please let me suck it."
"Good boy."
She placed a hand on his bald head and slid into his mouth. He opened wide, lips sealing around the thick shaft. She fed it to him slowly, inch by inch, until he gagged. Then she pulled back.
"Breathe," she whispered. "Then take more."
He obeyed.
Her cock tasted of sweat and salt and sin. He worshipped it--kissing, licking, swallowing. His jaw ached. His throat burned. His cock was leaking.
She reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a brown bottle.
"Let's open you up a little more."
She held the poppers under his nose. He inhaled--and the rush hit instantly. Warmth. Euphoria. Openness.
She grabbed his head and fucked his throat in earnest.
Deep, steady thrusts. Balls slapping his chin. Her moans low and guttural.
She warned him just once.
Then she came, hard, thick ropes flooding his throat.
"Swallow," she said. "All of it."
He did. Greedy.
"Clean me."
He licked her until she was wet and twitching.
Then she spun him and bent him over the edge of her bed.
She lubed him generously, her fingers teasing his hole.
"You've never been fucked like this," she said.
"No, Goddess."
She pushed one finger in, then two.
He moaned.
Then she lined up.
And pressed in.
The stretch burned--painful and perfect. Her cock slid inside, thick and unforgiving, forcing him open, claiming him.
He grunted. "Wait--"
"No."
She gripped his hips and drove deeper.
"Take me."
He whimpered as her full length filled him, pressure building deep inside.
She pounded him hard, steady, her grip bruising. His cock bounced below him, untouched but leaking.
When she pulled out near the edge, she grabbed his chin and shoved her cock into his mouth.
"Swallow this load too."
He obeyed.
The taste coated his tongue, warm and thick.
Before he could exhale, she shoved him back onto the bed, re-lubed, and plunged into him again.
This time, she didn't stop until her second orgasm spilled deep into his hole--filling him.
He collapsed, gasping.
She kissed his shoulder.
"Look at you," she whispered. "Such a good fuck. And this is only night one."
She let him catch his breath.
Then helped him dress.
"You're not staying," she said softly.
"What?"
"You'll want me more if you go home aching. And I want your next orgasm to belong to me, too."
He stood in silence. Her cum still deep inside him. Her taste still in his mouth.
She kissed him once--soft, possessive--and opened the door.
"Soon, baby," she said. "You'll be begging for my leash."
------X------
Episode 2: Lessons in Obedience
Brandon couldn't stop thinking about her.
The scent of her skin. The weight of her cock on his tongue. The way she filled him--first his mouth, then his hole--and the final whisper at the door that wrecked his sleep for days:
"You'll be begging for my leash."
And now, five days later, he was knocking on her door again, bottle of bourbon in one hand, heart pounding like he was about to audition for something he wasn't sure he deserved.
Licious opened the door in a silk robe that clung to every curve and revealed the perfect outline of what he hadn't been able to stop craving. Her hair was up, lips glossed, skin glowing.
She grinned.
"You look like you haven't cum since I last saw you."
Brandon swallowed. "I haven't."
"Mmm. Good boy."
Her apartment was dim again, candlelit, music low and thumping. A clean joint burned in a tray beside the couch. She took a drag and passed it to him without asking.
He accepted it with shaking fingers.
"You been thinking about me?" she asked, straddling his lap.
"Constantly."
She leaned in, her tongue licking a trail along his neck. "I've been thinking about you too... but not as much as I think about that tight little hole of yours."
His cock jumped.
She noticed.
She always noticed.
"Tonight," she whispered, "we go deeper."
They drank. Smoked. Kissed.
Then she produced a tiny capsule.
"Want to go deeper-deeper?"
He nodded, already under her spell.
She dropped the molly on his tongue and chased it with a kiss. "We'll let it simmer."
As it soaked into his bloodstream, she led him into her bedroom--but this time, the lighting was different. Darker. Redder.
He noticed the shift immediately.
"I have rules tonight," she said, drawing the black collar from a bedside drawer. "And if you follow them, you'll get rewards."
He nodded.
"No speaking without permission. No touching your cock. And you only cum if I allow it."
"Yes, Goddess."
She fastened the collar around his neck and led him to the edge of the bed.
She made him strip slowly, piece by piece, as she admired him with possessive eyes.
Then she stood.
Her robe slipped from her shoulders.
And again, there it was.
Her cock--thick, smooth, veined and beautiful, that uncut head swollen and already leaking. It curved upward with elegant menace, bouncing slightly with every step she took toward him.
She snapped on gloves, grabbed a bottle of lube, and pressed a plug against his lips.
"Kiss it."
He obeyed.
She lubed it, spread his cheeks, and slid it into his ass in one slow push.
He gasped.
"You're going to wear that while I teach you how to please me."
She climbed onto the bed and lay back, her cock throbbing.
"Come."
He crawled to her.
"Start with your mouth."
He kissed his way up her thighs, tongue flicking her shaft before taking her into his mouth again.
She moaned, one hand resting on his scalp. "Yesss... you remembered how I like it."
He sucked her slowly, tongue swirling under her head, lips tight around the shaft. She fed him more. He took it deeper. Then deeper still, his throat relaxing.
She reached into her nightstand.
Poppers.
"Breathe, baby."
He inhaled.
The rush hit hard. Her cock slid all the way in. His throat widened, mind fogged, body buzzing.
She groaned and began fucking his mouth, slow but deep, her hips rolling, her head thrown back.
Brandon gagged once--then found rhythm.
She coated his throat with cum minutes later, holding him down as he swallowed, trembling.
But she wasn't done.
"On your knees. Face the wall."
He obeyed.
She removed the plug and replaced it with her cock.
The moan that escaped him was raw. She felt bigger this time--harder, deeper.
He tried to brace himself, but she pinned his wrists to the bed.
"You're mine now," she said into his ear. "Every inch of you."
Her rhythm was brutal, controlled, relentless. She rode him until sweat dripped from her body onto his back. His own cock swung below him, untouched, desperate.
"You want to cum?" she asked.
"Yes," he gasped.
"No."
She reached under him, not to stroke him--but to hold his balls tight. Denying. Teasing. Owning.
When she came inside him, it was with a shudder and a growl. She emptied herself fully. Deep. Claiming.
He cried out, hips shaking. Cum spilled from his hole when she pulled out.
She shoved it into his mouth again, softening now, and whispered, "Clean me."
He licked her slowly. Worshipfully.
Aftercare was quiet.
She lit a fresh joint and held it between his lips. He inhaled, boneless in her lap.
"You did so well," she said, stroking his face. "You're starting to understand your place."
He nodded, dazed.
"You're not just a boy I fuck," she added. "You're becoming mine."
Before he left, she opened the black door.
Just a crack.
A glimpse of leather. Chains. A mirror.
He swallowed hard.
"That's next," she said. "But only if you prove you can handle it."
Then she closed the door.
Kissed him once on the lips.
And told him to go home without touching his cock until she gave him permission.
------X------
Episode 3: Plugged & Paraded
Brandon waited outside Club Indulge, hands tucked in his pockets, nervous energy buzzing through him like a second pulse. He wore what she told him to wear: fitted jeans, no underwear, a tight black tee, and the discreet stainless-steel plug she'd delivered to his doorstep two hours earlier in a velvet box.
With a note:
"Wear this tonight. No exceptions. I want to feel it still warm when I take it out of you."
He had inserted it immediately, groaning at the pressure. It wasn't small.
Now, standing on the curb, it reminded him who he belonged to with every step, every breath, every accidental clench. He couldn't stop leaking into the fabric of his jeans.
When Licious arrived, the world stopped turning.
She stepped out of the backseat of a black car like a panther--red leather heels, curve-hugging latex, a long trench coat cinched at the waist. Her lips were dark and glossy. Her eyes were lined to kill.
"Good boy," she purred, pressing her body against his. Her hand slid down, palmed the bulge between his legs, and squeezed.
"Mmm," she hissed. "I can feel it. Is it still in?"
"Yes, Goddess," he whispered.
"Say thank you for the privilege."
He swallowed. "Thank you, Goddess."
"Louder."
"Thank you for plugging my hole, Goddess."
She kissed him hard. The doorman opened the velvet rope without a word.
Inside, Club Indulge was a neon-soaked dream--champagne and weed smoke in the air, beats pulsing like a heartbeat. Licious led him by the wrist through the crowd, but not toward the bar.
She stopped in the VIP lounge. Her favorite booth, already waiting.
She sat like a queen. He followed, the plug shifting inside him as he eased into the plush seat. He winced slightly.
She noticed.
Her hand slid onto his thigh under the table. "You feel me inside you still?"
"Yes, Goddess."
"Good."
A server arrived. Licious ordered: two Old Fashions--Uncle Nearest she insisted--and a water bottle with a tiny heart drawn on the label.
She passed it to him discreetly.
"Molly," she whispered. "Just a hint."
Brandon drank.
The warmth bloomed in his chest, slow and blooming. The music swam through him. The plug began to feel like a heartbeat.
Her fingers stayed on his thigh, sometimes creeping closer. Teasing. Threatening.
He couldn't sit still.
Later, they danced.
The lights cast their shadows in flickering color. Her ass ground against him. Her cock, already half-hard under her latex, pressed back into his groin. He moaned in her ear.
She turned and kissed him in full view of the club.
"You feel used yet?"
He nodded.
"You want more?"
He nodded harder.
She grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out.
Back at her apartment, Licious wasted no time.
She stripped him with sharp, hungry movements, then stood behind him and pulled the plug out slowly.
Brandon moaned--half pain, half loss.
His hole pulsed open slightly. She rubbed it with her thumb.
"Mmm. Look at how perfect you're becoming for me."
She brought the plug to his lips.
"Clean it."
He did, tasting his own scent, licking it clean under her gaze.
"Tonight," she said, "I'm going to teach you the real meaning of service."
She cuffed his wrists behind his back and led him down the hall.
The black door opened.
Inside: red lighting, leather crosses, soft fur throws, ropes, toys. Mirrors on one wall. A padded bench. Hooks. A cabinet.
A throne.
She guided him to the bench and had him bend over, securing him by wrist and ankle.
"Poppers?"
He nodded.
She held the bottle under his nose. He inhaled deep.
Then she stepped out of view.
He heard the snap of gloves. The squelch of lube. The click of heels.
Then her cock pressed into him.
No slow build this time.
She sank in one hard, steady thrust.
Brandon cried out.
She held him still.
"You're taking it better already."
She began to fuck him without mercy. Hands on his hips. Skin slapping skin.
"You think you're still a top?" she moaned.
He shook his head.
She drove deeper. "Who owns this hole?"
"You do, Goddess."
She leaned in, her chest against his back.
"And this mouth?"
"You do."
"Say it."
"You own my mouth and my ass, Goddess."
She smiled.
She pulled out just before coming and fed it to him, thick and dripping. He swallowed eagerly, then licked her shaft clean.
Still hard, she mounted him again and filled his ass with her second load, deep and full.
His body shook.
Still no orgasm.
She whispered in his ear:
"Maybe next time I'll let you cum. Maybe I won't."
------X------
Episode 4: Dinner, Drugs & DeLovely's Delight
The text from Licious came in bold and unflinching, as always:
"Wear something fuckable. We're going out to dinner tonight. And yes -- you'll be plugged again."
Attached was a photo of the plug: polished stainless steel, base adorned with a crimson gem that caught the light like blood in candlelight. It was heavier than the others she'd used on him. It made a statement. A claim.
Brandon stared at the message for a full minute before replying.
"Yes, Goddess."
An hour later, he was lubed, stretched, and flushed--plug seated deep inside him, snug and pressing with every movement. His jeans were tight, offering no mercy. The sensation made him feel vulnerable. Owned.
And, God, how he loved that feeling.
When Licious pulled up in a black town car that evening, Brandon opened the door to find her dressed to annihilate--a black silk blouse that kissed her cleavage, leather pants that clung like skin, and red lips that screamed authority. Her curls were pulled into a high knot, her earrings catching the city lights.
But she wasn't alone.
"Brandon," she said coolly, "these are my girls. Say hello."
In the backseat sat Marisol--curvaceous, caramel-skinned, sultry-eyed--and Suki, a petite beauty with Thai-and-Black features, glowing skin, and a sharp, assessing gaze.
"Hi," Brandon said softly, trying not to stare. Or blush.
"He's cute," Suki said, cocking her head.
"Quiet too," Marisol smirked. "Shy boys are fun to break in."
Licious slid into the seat beside him, her hand immediately on his thigh. "He's already broken in. Aren't you, baby?"
"Yes, Goddess," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
He felt their eyes on him and shifted in his seat. The plug reminded him exactly what kind of night he was in for.
Dinner was at a rooftop lounge, sleek and expensive. The vibe was cool and low-lit, a soundtrack of soft R&B pulsing under clinking glasses and whispered laughs.
Brandon sat at Licious's side like a good date, but more like a well-trained pet--responsive, obedient, silently aching. Her hand never left his thigh. Her thumb occasionally tapped the gem at the base of the plug through his jeans, just enough to make him twitch.
He blushed every time she did it.
"Still warm?" she whispered.
He nodded, face flushed.
"Good. Keep it that way."
Midway through dinner, she handed him a discreet water bottle.
"Two sips," she said.
He obeyed. The familiar tingle of molly started melting its way into his bloodstream.
She laughed and leaned in. "There's my sweet, obedient slut."
He glanced at her friends--laughing, drinking, gorgeous. He felt the heat rise to his face again.
Marisol caught it.
"Aww. He's shy."
"I like him that way," Licious said. "He pretends he's hesitant, but the second I give him a command, he's dripping."
Suki snorted. "Boys like him always are."
He lowered his eyes to his plate, silently grateful for the dim lighting.
But deep down... a familiar ache bloomed.
He wanted to please her. Even if it meant being watched.
Back at Licious's place, the mood changed instantly.
He stood near the couch, nervous energy coiled tight as Licious shed her heels and began to undress. Marisol and Suki made themselves comfortable, like they owned the place.
When Licious walked over and unbuckled his pants, Brandon instinctively looked to the others.
She caught the hesitation.
"Look at me," she commanded.
He did.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes, Goddess."
"Do you want to make me happy?"
"Yes."
"Then show them how well you serve."
He swallowed hard. Nodded.
She bent him forward slightly, pulled the plug from his ass with a slick pop, and whispered, "Good boy."
He whimpered from the sensation--empty again, needy.
She brought the plug to his lips.
"Clean it."
He glanced at her friends.
"Now."
He obeyed, cheeks burning, tongue flicking over the metal as he tasted himself.
The girls exchanged impressed glances.
"See? So cute," Marisol said.
"He's trying not to moan," Suki added. "Precious."
Brandon was already hard.
Licious led him by the leash down the hall.
Tonight, the dungeon door swung open wider than ever.
Red lighting bathed the room in heat. The leather bench gleamed. Her throne waited, polished and imposing.
"You're going to serve me tonight," she said, "and they're going to watch."
She strapped him in--wrists behind his back, chest down against the fur-lined bench. He trembled. Not from fear, but from anticipation.
"You're doing so well," she said softly, kissing the nape of his neck. "Don't fight it. This is what you need."
She spread his cheeks.
Rimmed him slowly.
He gasped, face burning. He knew they were watching. But he couldn't stop the moans from slipping out.
Then her cock--her thick, uncut, gorgeous cock--replaced her tongue.
She sank into him.
Brandon's entire body tensed.
He whimpered, muffled into the cushion.
"Take it," she growled. "They're watching, and they know what a good slut you are."
She fucked him slow, deep, every stroke pushing past his resistance until he was groaning and begging through gritted teeth.
Then she pulled out, shoved her cock into his mouth, and came. Hot, heavy spurts filled his throat. He swallowed every drop.
Still hard, she bent him over again.
"Now I mark you."
She came again, deep inside his ass this time--leaving him filled and breathless, leaking onto the bench below.
Later, he curled up at her feet while she smoked and the girls whispered in excited tones.
Licious stroked his cheek and whispered, "You were nervous tonight. But you did it. You pleased me. And that's all that matters."
He closed his eyes, her scent wrapping around him like praise.
And inside... he couldn't wait to be used again.
------X------
Episode 5: Trained & Tempted
Brandon's week had been nothing but flashbacks.
The feel of the plug stretching him during dinner.
The sound of Marisol and Suki giggling as he obeyed.
The shame. The thrill. The warm satisfaction of pleasing Licious even when he didn't want to.
And now... she was inviting him over again.
"Alone this time," she wrote. "You've earned some personal attention."
He sighed with relief, heart thudding as he packed a change of clothes, a bottle of bourbon, and--without even being told--wore his training plug. The mid-sized one. Just enough to make sitting a gentle tease.
She opened the door in a soft robe, bare beneath, skin glowing. No boots, no latex--just her.
"You look nervous," she purred.
He smiled sheepishly. "Just... excited."
She pulled him in, kissed him deeply, and whispered, "Good. You'll need that energy."
The evening started slow.
They curled on the couch with a joint burning between them. Brandon melted into her touch. She poured bourbon over ice and offered him two capsules.
"Molly and a sprinkle of mushrooms," she said. "Low dose. Just enough to open you up."
He hesitated--but her eyes softened.
"You can say no."
He shook his head. "I want to please you, Goddess."
She kissed him again and whispered, "That's my good boy."
The come-up hit gently. Warm waves. Music sounded clearer. Her skin looked lit from within. When she moved, she seemed to float.
Brandon nuzzled against her thighs, burying his face there as she stroked his scalp.
"You want to taste me?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Ask."
"Please, Goddess... please let me suck your cock."
She stood.
Slipped the robe off.
And there it was: her gorgeous, thick, veiny cock, heavy and beautiful, the foreskin half-pulled back over her swollen, leaking head. Every time he saw it, his stomach fluttered. He wanted to worship it. He needed to.
She sat on the edge of her bed. "Crawl."
He did.
When he reached her, she tapped the base of her cock against his lips. "Lick."
He began slowly. Tongue under the shaft, circling the tip, teasing the ridge of her foreskin.
"That's it," she whispered. "Take your time. This is your purpose."
She slid into his mouth, inch by inch. His throat relaxed. Poppers opened his senses. He choked briefly--but adjusted. He wanted all of her.
She grabbed his head.
Fucked his mouth, slow and steady, her cock gliding into his throat like it belonged there.
And when she came, she didn't pull out.
He swallowed every drop.
After a moment to catch their breath, she guided him gently to the floor--on all fours, cheek to the carpet.
"I want to see you surrender."
She removed the plug herself, rubbing his stretched hole with lube.
She pressed in slowly, carefully, letting him feel every inch.
He groaned.
"Shh... I've got you."
Her pace was slow but deep, her hands gentle at first.
But soon, she sped up.
Fucking him harder, her words turning filthier with every thrust.
"You like being used, don't you?"
"Yes, Goddess."
"You like that I filled your throat and now I'm breeding your ass?"
"Yes..."
Her hand reached under his body--not to stroke his cock, but to cradle his balls.
"Hold it. Don't cum."
He bit his lip.
She rammed deeper, moaning, growling, whispering filth into his ear.
Then she came.
Deep inside him.
He whimpered, feeling the wet pulse of her cock emptying in his hole. His ass quivered around her, trying to milk more.
She pulled out slowly, cum dripping from him onto his thighs.
Then she straddled his face and said, "Clean me again."
He did. Gratefully. Desperately.
Afterward, she bathed him.
Ran warm water. Sat behind him in the tub, arms around his chest.
"You've made me proud," she whispered. "And you're getting close."
He blinked. "Close to what?"
She smirked. "True release."
He stiffened.
She kissed his neck.
"Next time... I think it's time for your first hands-free orgasm."
His cock twitched beneath the water.
And suddenly, he couldn't wait.
------X------
Episode 6: Release With Permission
Brandon showed up already on edge.
Two damn weeks without touching himself. No jerking off, no rubbing in the shower, not even a sleepy grind against the sheets. Nothing. Not since Licious last fed him her cock and left him dripping, stretched, and aching, with cum drying on his lips and her scent soaked into his skin. He hadn't washed the sheets since hoping to capture the slightest trace of her aroma.
Her voice still lived in his head. That smooth, commanding tone that made his spine tingle: "Don't touch it until I say."
So he didn't. Not once. He didn't dare.
Every night, he'd lie there twitching in bed, heart pounding, cock leaking, and press the base of the plug in just enough to feel that familiar stretch. That slight fullness. Just enough to remind him who he belonged to.
And now... tonight... she'd told him he'd finally get to cum. But not in any way he'd ever experienced before.
She opened the door wearing a wine-colored satin corset and thigh-high boots. Her lips were painted a deep, sinful plum that made his knees wobble the second she smiled. Her skin glowed under the hallway light -- dark, smooth, radiant. Dangerous and beautiful.
"Welcome back, pet," she said, her voice like silk wrapped in heat.
His breath had to be caught. Every nerve in his body sparked.
He stepped inside, his eyes adjusting to the soft candlelight glowing throughout her apartment. It was warm, dim, and thick with the scent of burning incense and her perfume -- that intoxicating blend of spice and sweetness that always made his knees weak.
On the table, a chilled bottle of water waited for him. Pale pink label. And next to it, a freshly rolled blunt -- dank, dark, and perfect.
"Two sips," she said, already turning toward the lounge area.
He drank. No questions. The water was cold on his throat, but the flutter in his stomach told him exactly what was in it. Just like before, molly. The warmth started spreading through him fast, curling through his chest and down into his groin like something waking up.
Licious lit the blunt, drew in slow, then passed it to him. He took it with both hands, grateful and reverent. They passed it back and forth in silence for a while, sinking deeper into the haze and each other. The smoke unfurled around them -- warm and slow and rich.
By the time she stood again, his limbs were humming, his cock ached in its cage of instructed self-discipline, and every part of him was ready to be used.
"Come," she said, voice low.
He followed.
She led him through the bedroom, familiar and impossibly neat, to the far wall where the hidden door waited. She keyed in a code on the small panel tucked behind a hanging silk robe, and the latch clicked softly.
Then the door swung open, and the dungeon welcomed him.
The lighting was low -- just a few red spotlights in the corners, casting flickering shadows across the padded walls. Ambient music pulsed from hidden speakers, slow and bass-heavy. Every note felt like it was vibrating under his skin.
In front of them: a black leather sling suspended from steel frames positioned under a spotlight. Cuffs. Chains. A full-length mirror placed just so, angled to show every angle, every inch.
"Strip," she said. Not loud. Not rushed. But final.
Brandon's fingers shook as he undressed, piece by piece.
The plug was still in place. His cock was rock-hard, twitching slightly, already leaking. But still untouched. Still hers.
She moved around him in slow circles, the soft click of her heels echoing through the room. "You've done so well," she murmured. "Two weeks. No begging. No disobedience."
He trembled.
She stopped in front of him, eyes gleaming like glass under firelight. "Tonight... you'll earn your reward."
His eyes widened.
"But only from my cock," she added, voice dropping a little. "And my hands. You don't touch yourself."
He nodded, breath caught in his throat. A soft whimper escaped before he could stop it.
"That's right," she said, smiling. "No need for words. Just do what I say."
Then she unhooked the front of her corset with practiced ease, letting it fall open.
Her cock spilled out -- already half-hard and glistening, thick and beautiful, with the uncut crown peeking from its hood. It swayed with weight, heavy with authority, the veins along the shaft pulsing like it already knew it was about to be worshipped.
Brandon dropped to his knees before she even told him to.
She raised one eyebrow but said nothing at first, simply letting him stare at it. Her hand slid slowly down the length, peeling the foreskin back to reveal that dark, sensitive head. A glimmer of precum shone at the tip.
"Open wide, slut," she said softly.
His mouth parted instantly.
She pushed her cock forward, pressing the head against his tongue, letting him taste her slowly. Her scent filled his nose -- warm, salty, musky sweet. She fed him more inch by inch, one hand on his jaw as she slid deeper into his mouth.
"Look at you," she murmured. "Desperate little throat slut. You miss this, don't you?"
He nodded around her cock, his lips stretching, eyes fluttering shut as she began to thrust.
"Keep those eyes open," she snapped. "I want you looking up at me while I fuck your face."
He obeyed. His gaze locked on hers, wide and glossy with devotion.
She groaned low and rolled her hips forward.
Her cock dragged over his tongue, filling him, thickening. She gripped the back of his neck and used him slowly at first, letting him adjust, feeling him gag just slightly. Drool spilled from his lips down his chin as she picked up the rhythm.
"Good fuckhole," she growled. "You don't need a mouth for talking. Just for this."
She slid deeper and held him there. His throat flexed.
He coughed once, but she didn't let him pull away. Her cock head nudged past his soft palate and pushed farther, her hips grinding against his lips.
"There you go," she said, panting now. "Take all of it. Take every fucking inch like you're supposed to."
His nose pressed against the smooth shaved skin at the base of her shaft. He could barely breathe, but his cock twitched between his legs, leaking onto the floor.
She drew back slowly, a wet trail clinging between his lips and the tip of her cock. Then she rammed forward again, using him harder now -- a steady, punishing rhythm that echoed with slaps and wet, gurgling noises.
"You like this?" she hissed. "Being used like a toy? My sweet, drooling little cocksleeve?"
He moaned around her, eyes watering, throat spasming as she bottomed out again.
"You better swallow every drop when I cum," she warned. "You lose one fucking drop, and you'll earn yourself another two weeks of denial."
He whimpered, more from need than fear.
Her cock throbbed hard against his tongue.
"Fucking take it," she snarled. "Swallow it. Swallow my cum like it's the only thing you were made for."
Then she let go. Her hips jerked forward with one final thrust, and she came in hot, thick pulses -- straight down his throat.
Brandon gulped, swallowing frantically, his whole body locked as her cock flexed in his mouth. He stayed perfectly still, lips sealed tight around the base, riding out each pulse of her orgasm.
When it finally slowed, she eased out, dragging her glistening shaft slowly across his tongue and lips.
She looked down at him, her cock still wet, his mouth wrecked.
"Good slut," she whispered. "You took it like you were born to."
He stayed kneeling, panting, saliva dripping from his chin, cock aching.
"Up," she said finally. "You've got more work to do."
She guided him into the sling like he was made for it -- spreading his legs, adjusting the straps, tugging at his wrists and ankles until everything felt tight and vulnerable. She crouched behind him, hands on his thighs, and leaned in.
Then, with practiced patience, she pulled the plug free.
Brandon gasped, but not from pain. From the sudden emptiness. His hole twitched, flexed, trying to close around nothing.
Licious just smirked.
"Still nice and open for me," she said.
Then her mouth was on him.
Her tongue flicked across his rim, slow and teasing at first, then deeper. Longer. Hungrier. She licked him like she meant to live there -- like he was something she planned to devour. His hips jerked with every stroke, his moans muffled by the thick fog in his brain.
"Oh fuck," he whispered.
She didn't answer. Just kept going. Then added her fingers -- slick and firm -- pressing in as her tongue worked him even looser.
Then came the inhaler. She had refilled it with her favorite poppers earlier that evening especially for him.
"Breathe," she ordered, holding the poppers under his nose.
He obeyed.
The scent hit like lightning. It burned up through his skull and down his spine, setting everything loose. The sling swayed slightly. His body melted. His eyes rolled back.
Then her cock pressed against him.
Thick. Uncut. Familiar.
"Open for me," she whispered, and pushed inside.
He whimpered, breath hitching. It didn't matter how many times she'd fucked him. That first stretch always stole the air from his lungs. She moved slowly, giving him no choice but to feel every inch, every ridge, as her cock filled him.
When she bottomed out, he groaned -- loud, raw.
"You're not allowed to touch your cock," she said, voice husky. "But tonight... I'm going to make you cum anyway."
Brandon nearly cried. His tears weren't from pain but from anxious anticipation of things to come.
Her rhythm wasn't punishing.
It was smooth. Controlled. Deep.
She moved inside him like she was writing her name across his insides -- claiming him with every stroke. Her hips rolled with precision. Her hands gripped his hips, steady and sure.
"Tell me what you are," she said, fucking him slow.
"Y--your slut," he moaned.
"Tell me what you want."
"I want... to cum from your cock. Please."
She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his cheek.
"You want to be ruined?" she growled.
"Yes... yes, please, Goddess..."
His cock was leaking onto the floor -- untouched, bobbing helplessly between his thighs. He was clenching, trembling, full of her, full of heat. The molly, weed, and the poppers and her voice all swirled together into a dizzying blur.
His toes curled. His back arched. Then it hit. With a choked gasp, he came.
Thick pulses shot out of him, hot and helpless, spattering the both of them and everything nearby in twitching ropes of cum.
He hadn't laid a finger on himself.
She didn't stop.
Licious fucked him right through it -- harder now, messier, chasing her own pleasure. She snarled as her hips slammed into him, her orgasm rising until she let out a guttural moan, staying buried deep inside as she came hard.
She held him in place. Still inside him. Her breath was ragged, her chest rising and falling behind him.
And then, slowly, she withdrew.
Brandon whimpered as her cock slid out of him -- thick and glistening -- followed by the first spill of her cum. It leaked from his stretched hole in warm, messy drips that tickled on the way down.
He didn't move. Couldn't.
Licious rested a hand on him and wiped sweat from his brow with the other. They stayed like that for a long moment -- breathing in sync, heat rising between them, the dungeon quiet again except for the hum of the speakers.
"You did it," she murmured eventually. "You really did it. Your becoming! Little by little my cock is making you. You're mine now, and I will take you deeper next, maybe with someone new."
He managed a faint smile. His cheek rested against the strap of the sling, his limbs slack, his body used in the most perfect way.
"I was always yours, Goddess," he whispered.