Hi! I am a (smut) writer! My main blog is @animasola86 that used to focus primarily on fanfiction, so I needed a space to post my original works. And here we are. Welcome! (Here, I'll also reblog pictures I find inspirational that can be a little NSFW sometimes, I am a smut writer after all, but I don't wanna lose this blog, so I keep the pictures non-explicit, I promise! PLEASE CHECK YOUR ACCOUNT SETTINGS IF YOU WANNA KEEP SEEING THOSE PICS!)
Below you'll see my six major original stories/spin-offs/projects (Innocence Lost, Infatuated, Abandoned, Forgetful, Lost & Found and Forced), with a summary, tags and links. At the end of this post, you'll find a list of tags you can follow to each story and their individual inspiration posts.
original story 🟣 m!oc x f!oc 🟣 explicit 🟣 AO3
He finds her in a brothel of all places. A chance encounter, but one that will change his life – and hers – forever.
Or: A story about a cowboy who falls in love with a prostitute, who happens to be so much more than that.
GENERAL TAGS: slow burn romance, age gap, fluff, angst, smut
A chance encounter under the strobe light. Hips swaying to the thumping bass. Dark eyes following her every move. Gazes meeting through the crowd.
She came to him. He took her away. Changing her life forever, guiding her into submission.
🚩 ️A much darker modern AU of Innocence Lost!
GENERAL TAGS: smut, Dom/sub, praise kink, dubcon, free use
An urban explorer, trying to find his next perfect picture inside the decaying walls of a building long forgotten, finds something else instead, a picture-perfect creature: A girl trapped in her own mind and submission, left behind by whoever didn't seem to need her anymore, discarded like the broken toy she is.
Will he be able to bring her back into a normal life?
🥀 Spin-off to Infatuated!
GENERAL TAGS: hurt/comfort, angst, objectification, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers
chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3
original story 🎀 very explicit 🎀 AO3
Your roommate has a dirty secret - you. The only problem is: you can't remember anything about that. And there might be even more problems when you realize just what kind of relationship you have with her.
🎀 Inspired by Infatuated's Mistress!
GENERAL TAGS: reader-insert, mistress/pet, domme/sub, smut, BDSM heavy, gaslighting, sex toys, wlw
chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4
original story 🔷️ explicit 🔷️ AO3
At the lowest point of your life, you don't have many options. So when a woman approaches you and offers you a new one, you take the chance without hesitation. And you quickly realize what you have been missing your whole life: someone to guide you, someone to hold you, someone to fuck all the worries right out of your head.
And that's how you became the little girl for your new Mommy and Daddy - an unusual "couple" who doesn't always see eye to eye with how they want to handle you.
GENERAL TAGS: bisexual!reader-insert, hurt/comfort, Dd/Md/lg dynamics, Dom/sub undertones, Daddy/Mommy kink, love triangle, angst, fluff, smut
Accidents happen. Mistakes were made, and while you hoped the handsome stranger would help you through your dilemma, you ended up in his service, paying off a debt that would have changed your life for the worse if you wouldn't have "accepted" his "offer".
Unfortunately, your life is still about to change, if you want to or not, and it's not getting any better...
GENERAL TAGS: female!reader-insert, noncon, Master/servant dynamic, bad BDSM etiquette, manipulation, hurt/no comfort, heavy smut
After taking it slow most of the day, he takes her to a fancy restaurant where he pushes her limits all over again.
ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush
WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dom/sub dynamic. Free use/power play. Subspace. Handjob/masturbation. Cum eating. Butt plug/vaginal insertions (Ben Wa balls). Dirty talk. Public indecency? Vaginal fingering. Semi-public vaginal + anal sex, creampies. (For even more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 14.2k
A/N: Remember that these characters are vague on purpose, so you can imagine them as your favorite blorbos. Also: this is Sir's POV, expect the worst. And enjoy.
TWENTY-SIX 🟥 TWENTY-SEVEN 🟥 TWENTY-EIGHT
Watching her drift into subspace the moment she started suckling on his cock, has been so endearing that he almost forgot about the plans he's made for them today. Her waking up in pain hasn't been planned either, but it was only fair to give back, to pamper her like she deserved. And they still have a few hours anyways.
It's surprising, if not even a little frightening, how having her between his legs, cockwarming him, eases his mind. This little pliant thing, curled up, her warm mouth stuffed, tiny hand holding onto him, finding respite in serving him. So perfectly submissive.
His fingers glide through her hair, a soothing gesture, and he feels himself relaxing even more, despite how his cock thickens in her grasp. He's past fighting the fact that she's changing him and his ways, that he treats her different than the rest, the ones before her, he's more or less accepted it by now. Nothing he can do against her undeniable charm. It is what it is.
Sighing deeply, he leans back into the pile of pillows behind him, the nest he built for her, the same nest where he's defiled and punished her before, now it's a place of comfort, for both of them. Strange developments indeed. His eyes wander over the colorful items all around him, over the sparkling fairy lights, the curtains blocking out the world beyond, the bright duvets and blankets, and then... the stuffed animal, the battered old wolf, sitting on the nightstand to his right, watching over them.
Without disturbing her, he stretches his arm out and picks it up. Its fur is matted, one ear missing a big chunk, exposing a makeshift scar, a black thread sewn tightly to keep its fluffy innards in place. She must have had this thing for a long while, probably through childhood, hugging it frequently, seeking comfort? He really doesn't want to think too much about her as a child, but curiosity still flares up.
His perfect little orphan girl, no known relatives left to keep watch over her, which made it so easy for him to take her in and away in the first place. No one has been looking for her, she's been all alone. Well, not anymore, he tells himself, caressing her head with one hand while he turns the wolf plushie in the other. Its dull eyes stare at him, almost challenging. He should probably take this thing away soon. She won't need it anymore. She has him.
He thinks back to that day in her old apartment, how she'd scrambled to gather the things she thought she'd need. And as her backpack was bursting at the seams, she had decided to leave the wolf behind, but somehow he'd known she would never willingly part with it. Not yet. Not back then. So he had it packed up with the rest of her stuff. He'll ask her again soon, if she still needs it.
For now, he returns it to the nightstand, then focuses on her again, both hands finding her head. Time to bring her back. “Baby,” he whispers hoarsely, caressing her jaw, feeling the tension there as she keeps it open to find space for his cock. He's fully hard, soaked in her saliva, warm and wet. She definitely has a job to finish. “Wake up, baby girl.”
She stirs slightly, a little gurgle escaping her. He gently pries his erection out of her grip, holding it in his own fist until she's capable of taking care of it again. His other hand cups her face, thumb brushing over her bottom lip, smearing some of her drool over it. Her eyes flutter open.
“Easy, darling,” he soothes when she frowns, smacking her swollen lips, certainly missing having something between them. “You're okay. You did so well, keeping me warm. Such a good girl.”
Her eyes are glazed over when she looks up at him, unfolding herself to sit up on her knees, swaying slightly. He pulls his hand back and watches her. She wipes at her mouth, blinking, until her gaze steadies and an instant blush crashes through her when she finds him smiling at her.
“Help me finish this?” he asks, fully aware of sounding way too nice.
He's never cared much about pulling his girls out of subspace, that wasn't his job. It had been about him, about his pleasure, and their purpose had been to service him, and it didn't matter how groggy they were, how they felt or looked, covered in drool, dirty and pathetic. Holes to stuff and nothing more. But this girl, his sweet little darling girl, he could watch her drift in and out of subspace for days. Eerily adorable.
She nods slowly, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks down at his hand curled around his cock. A little yawn escapes her which she quickly hides behind her hand, eyes widening as she notices. A smirk creeps onto the corner of his mouth.
“Come sit beside me,” he tells her quietly, and she looks up in confusion, a cute little frown on her forehead. “Let's give your pretty mouth a little break, hm? Your hand will do,” he adds as she climbs over his leg and settles at his side.
Putting his free arm around her shoulder, he pulls her close, and without guidance, she extends her hands and rubs at his wrist, as if asking for him to let go of his length. He indulges her, but as soon as she curls her small hand around his girth, he puts his hand over hers. She turns her head, curious eyes wandering over his face. He gives her a wink, which coaxes a tiny giggle out of her, heat pulsing under her skin.
Relaxing against him, she loosens her grip enough for him to start moving their hands together, up and down his shaft, pushing the tight skin over the spongy head, pulling it taut again, slowly repeating, every motion sending small shivers down his spine. Eventually she focuses on their hands, watching attentively, the tip of her tongue poking out between her lips. He quickens the motion, feeling his stomach tightening, precum beading on his slit.
His free hand finds her jaw, she looks at him in surprise, lips parted, and as he leans down to her, his hand slipping around her throat, she's already craning her neck to move closer to him, eyes flicking over his face. He presses his forehead to hers, labored breaths mingling, before he captures her mouth for a searing kiss, swallowing her mewls and gasps, while their hands stroke faster up and down his achingly hard cock, ready to burst, and as her tongue pushes into his mouth, meeting his, he groans, a jerk going through his body, his cock twitching, balls drawing up, before he feels the warm sensation of his cum hitting his hand.
Their kiss is messy, desperate, as more ropes shoot from his tip, coating his skin. He's breathless by the time he's finally done, as is she, face flushed, lips red and tender, glistening in their mixed saliva. Leaning back, he collapses into the pillows once more, loosening his grip, and she's not even waiting for a command, just bends down, slipping her hand from around his softening length. Her fingers curl around his wrist, pulling gently, and when he feels her hot little tongue licking up his spend, from his fingers to his stomach, he closes his eyes and exhales loudly, deflating under her ministrations.
“Good girl,” he croaks, letting her clean him up.
A shudder crashes through him when she closes her lips around his tip and sucks the rest out of him. Insatiable little thing. Always hungry. He should probably feed her something real soon.
She finishes by giving his cock a series of little pecks, causing his eyes to snap open, and he has to grab her neck to pull her off him. Watching him from under her lashes, she climbs back up and nestles into his side, small hand resting on his stomach, warm cheek pressed to his pecs. He hugs her tightly, inhaling deeply.
“How do you feel?” he asks after a while of comfortable silence.
“Good,” she breathes against him. “Better...”
“You'll probably be sore for a bit longer, I'm afraid, but I'm sure you can handle it, right, darling?”
“Yes, sir,” she replies quietly, her lips brushing against his nipple, sending a little shiver through him. His hand rubs along her back until he feels goosebumps pebbling her skin.
“I'll give you a day, no deepthroating, no spanking, no deep penetration,” he continues on an exhale, looking around the bright room, his mind reeling at his own words. “And trust me, it's not gonna be easy for me, when all I wanna do is sink my cock into your beautiful holes...” He sighs again. “Soon, eh?”
He feels her moving against him, her chin pressing into his chest as she tilts it up to look at him. Her eyes are clear, curious. “You don't have to, you know?” she then whispers, causing him to frown at her. “I am yours to use, am I not? You don't have to be considerate of me...”
He raises an eyebrow, a scoff leaving his lips. She sounds just like his own inner voice reminding him of who he is (or was). “Yeah? You're right, I don't, but I want to. Because I want to be able to play with you for some time longer, and if you break on me, what then? I have to take care of my playthings, baby. And I will, if you want to or not.”
Her blush deepens, her lashes fluttering as she looks away, a twitch to her full lips. “Thank you,” she mumbles, snuggling into him. He holds her tighter.
“Don't get used to it,” he retorts with a dark chuckle. “You are something special, I have to admit, the first I ever treated like this, but don't let it get to your head. As soon as I need servicing again, you are just a set of holes for me, understood?”
“Yes, sir,” she says, her voice a little muted, almost deflated.
“A beautiful set of holes, but a set of holes nonetheless,” he clarifies, his fingers curling around her nape, pressing against her collar. She stiffens under the gesture. “My set of holes, right? Mine to use, mine to take care of, mine to do whatever I want with...”
“Yes,” she gasps softly when he slips his digits under the collar, tightening it against her throat. “All yours...”
“Good,” he breathes, letting go of her, fingers instead moving into her hair. She relaxes instantly. “I'm gonna take you out tonight. You'll wear a nice dress, you'll doll yourself up for me, we'll eat and drink and enjoy ourselves, and then I'll bring you to the club, show you around, hm, how does that sound?”
She shifts, her elbow poking his side as she sits up to look at him with her eyes wide, a shy smile dancing around her mouth. “Sounds nice,” she whispers. “No, amazing. Thank you! I'll... I'll be good, I promise!”
He laughs. “Of course you will, I'm expecting no less of you. I told you I'll give you another chance to prove yourself in public. And you will behave, won't you? Do whatever I tell you?”
She hesitates just a second, licking her lips, swallowing, before she nods eagerly. “Yes, sir, I'll do whatever you say.”
“What if I tell you to lift your dress or expose your tits, hm? In the middle of the restaurant? Will you do that?”
Her nostrils flare, her eyelids fluttering, red spots dancing on her cheeks, but she nods again. “Yes, sir...”
“Or if I want to sink my fingers into your pretty cunt, right there at the table, while the waiter brings our food? Will you be good and let me?” He watches her closely, remembering the last time he's tried to make her come in public.
“Of course,” she whispers, holding his gaze.
His mind is spinning with possibilities, his cock already agreeing as he feels it twitching slightly, slowly coming back to life. “I could make you sit on my lap, cockwarming me, would you like that? Being connected like that, surrounded by other people? What if they notice, hm? Would you mind? Or would you want to make me happy?”
A shuddering breath escapes her as she considers his words. “I... I want to... make you happy,” she eventually replies, her jaw unusually tense. He gives her a proud smile.
“I'll make you wear a vibe,” he thinks aloud, reveling in the shocked reactions that she tries so desperately to hide. “I'll play with you whenever I want, and you'll dance for me, won't you? Show me your best reactions? Like a good girl?”
She swallows again, biting her bottom lip. “Y-yes, sir.” A stammer slips into her speech, her brave facade crumbling. His hand finds her warm face, his thumb pushing between her quivering lips. She leans into it, looking at him, a silent plea in her eyes.
He smiles at her. “I'll be good to you too, don't worry,” he whispers, sitting up to lean into her until his nose brushes against hers. “I can be civil, you know? No need to ruin my reputation. We'll still have our fun, if you can keep up that poker face of yours, hm?” His hand tightens around her jaw, thumb and forefinger pressing gently into her cheeks. “Best start practicing now.”
She stares at him, her eyes glazing over, tears brimming within. He can already tell she'll suck at that game, unable to hide anything, from him at least, but he doesn't worry. She's proven herself to him, it'll be fine. To reward her for her efforts, he presses his lips to her squished mouth, slowly letting go of her.
“My good girl,” he breathes into her, cupping her cheek, his thumb pressed to her chin to guide her. “Aren't you?”
“Yes,” she whispers, a shy smile making her wet lips twitch. “I'm your good girl.”
He chuckles softly, kissing her again, before he pulls his arm around her and her into himself. She settles against him, slowly relaxing again. If only he hadn't promised her a break, he'd already have her on her hands and knees and fucked within an inch of her life. All this talk has gone straight to his cock, but he needs to stay true to his words, to the promise he's given himself all those days ago, on that first night he'd taken her home. To show restraint.
And he meant it too, he can't break her, he almost did a couple of times, but no longer. As otherworldly as it still feels to him, but he needs her, alive and kicking, smiling, obeying, comforting him.
They cuddle like this for another moment, as he forces his erection down, calming himself, easing her nerves at the same time. No matter what depravities he'll throw at her, whenever, wherever, he knows she'll be good, willing to do whatever, submit to him fully, but maybe he'll take it easy on her as well. To keep it interesting.
“Alright, enough of this. Breakfast? Or is it lunch yet?” he muses as he peels himself away from her, slowly rising from the bed. “I'll make us something, okay? You hungry?”
She rolls onto her side, watching him closely. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice that cute little hum, the accompanying smile almost too much for him.
“Good,” he says, rolling his neck, his eyes glued to her curled up form. “Get ready then,” he adds, motioning towards the bathroom. “See you in the kitchen.”
She nods as he bends down to pick up his jeans. When he reaches the door out, she sits up, rubbing her eyes. So fucking adorable.
“Put on something cute,” he throws over his shoulder as he turns to leave.
“Okay,” she calls back, and he braces himself at the soft tone, the gentleness, and it's not his cock that's twitching, it's something in his stomach, something warm that shoots straight into his heart.
This girl is going to be the death of him.
Something cute turns out to be a little pink babydoll dress, tight around her breasts, billowing down around her waist and hips, barely reaching over her reddened ass. For his sake or because it felt better for herself, she's not put on any underwear, and he's completely fine with that. It's a whiff of nothing, sheer frilly fabric that accentuates her beautiful body. To add to her cuteness, she's even braided her hair into two pigtails. It almost causes him to drop the pancakes he's made for them. He really wishes he could take her out looking like this. What a treat. But he's chosen something more formal for her, and it'll be a sight as well, he's sure.
They eat right at the counter, he's perched on one of the stools, while she decides to stand next to him, hands on his thigh as he feeds her bite after bite. He allows it, knowing sitting is probably still too painful for the poor girl. It also shows her her place, always below him, at his mercy, patiently waiting for what he does next. He gives her a large glass of orange juice which she empties quickly, her cute little tongue licking around her mouth afterwards. He's tempted to taste it too, but refrains, knowing it would only lead to him wanting to bend her over and take her right here, right now, soreness be damned.
It takes him all he has to fight the temptation, and once he's done feeding her and eating the rest, he gets up and walks around the counter, putting some distance between them to calm down again. Maybe a proper workout that doesn't involve the girl would be in order. He's certainly neglected his usual fitness routine ever since she's been with him. Yet as soon as he looks at her, still waiting next to the stool, watching him, he can't bring himself to even consider leaving her to her own devices again.
Perhaps he could think up a routine that'll combine the two. Push-ups as she lies beneath him, his cock sinking into her cunt with every down motion? Sit-ups with the prospect of a kiss every time he goes up? He could even switch out his weights and lift her instead. The possibilities are endless.
He looks away with a grunt as his cock gives an angry twitch against his jeans. Soon. Not now. She needs to rest. And he needs to focus. Inhaling deeply, he starts loading the dishwasher. The quiet tapping of her feet surprises him, even more so when he sees her handing him the plate and the empty glass. He takes them from her without a word, but can't take his eyes off her. A shy smile lights up her face.
“I'm going for a jog,” he then blurts out, needing the space after all. “You'll be in your room, resting, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers quietly, looking up at him with those big eyes, cute and submissive. He wants to punch a wall.
Nodding, he takes a step back, the dishes clattering on the counter as he puts them down, then beckons her to follow him. At her door, he waits, fingers curled around the edge, tight and tense, and once she walks past him, he's ready to close it and lock her in (and the temptation out). She stops, turns slowly, a frown on her face.
“Are you alright?” she asks softly.
He gives a laugh that sounds like a grunt. “Oh, I'm fine, baby, just peachy. You're very cute, by the way,” he adds, giving her a gentle shove into the room. “Rest now. I'll be back soon. Promise.”
She looks at him in confusion, but complies, a deep blush on her cheeks before he closes the door on her. Turning the key, he exhales loudly. His hand is shaking from how tense he is. He really has to push himself now if he wants to keep up this restraint thing. She's definitely not making it easy.
It takes him almost five laps through the park and a very cold shower afterwards to fully calm down again. He didn't even check his phone and the surveillance app, hoping to clear his mind off the girl, even though she still occupied most of it regardless. Exhausted but feeling better, he finishes getting ready, deciding on his usual black suit, and as he buttons his white dress shirt, his eyes flick over the long dress he's chosen for her.
He sighs. A day, half a day tops. She'll be fine to take his cock later tonight, he's sure. She has to be. He needs it.
Once he's fully dressed, he leaves his bedroom, only to return to grab the ointment he's used on her before, knowing she'll probably need it again soon. Eventually, he approaches her door and unlocks it quietly, yet as soon as he pulls it open, he finds her kneeling next to her bed, her usual spot, and a warmth settles in his stomach, making him smile and his cock twitch eagerly. She's lost the babydoll, waiting for him fully naked, all her beautiful marks and bruises on display for him. Good girl, he thinks while he doesn't acknowledge her, only walks past her.
He enters her walk-in closet and goes straight for the box of toys, rummaging through it until he finds a sparkling princess plug and two Ben Wa balls that clink softly as he lifts them from their own cushioned box. She might be sore, but it'll be good practice to keep her holes filled and stretched, the additional weight of the balls helping her train her pelvic muscles. As much as he loves to humiliate her sometimes, she'll feel more confident knowing she has better control over her bladder in the future. She'll also remain nice and tight for him too.
“Kneel on the bed, darling, spread those cheeks,” he tells her as he returns, waiting for the girl to follow the command. She does, scrambling onto the edge of the bed, bending forward, her small hands on her ass cheeks before she presents her holes to him. “Good girl,” he praises out loud. Keeping the metal balls in his palm, he leans around her, prodding the anal plug against her lips. “Keep this warm for me?”
With her head turned to the side, she can only comply, opening her mouth willingly, before she issues a muffled reply that he acknowledges by dragging his fingernails down her spine, making her shiver. “We're gonna start training your cute cunt today,” he continues as soon as he straightens up behind her again. “I'm gonna put two metal balls inside you, they're called Ben Wa balls, they're weighted and they'll help you train your pelvic muscles, okay? You'll feel them, but they shouldn't be much of a problem for you. You'll keep them in for as long as you can hold them, won't you?”
She stiffens slightly, but mumbles her agreement around the plug in her mouth. He caresses her lower back, slowly sliding down around her still slightly reddened ass. A dip between her legs tells him that despite her apprehension, she is ready for whatever he has planned. Wet and warm, just how he likes her. He still applies a bit of soothing cream on his fingers, then rubs them along her folds, parting them carefully, while slowly pushing one of the balls against her entrance with his other hand, waiting for her muscles to ease and swallow the object on their own. The metal sphere is about the size of a ping-pong ball, only sturdier and heavier, easier to push out if she wanted to, which he hopes she won't. It's for her own good after all.
Once the first ball sits inside her cunt, he prods the other between her folds too, the soft clinking sound making her shudder. “Easy, it'll be alright. You can do this. You had bigger stuff in your little pussy before, didn't you? One more push, and... ah, good, look at your beautiful hole, so eager to swallow whatever I push inside. Well done, darling.”
He ignores her shaking breaths and grabs her arms, gently pulling her off the bed and into a standing position. Turning her to face him, he meets her pleading gaze.
“Does it hurt?” he asks, still holding her elbow with one hand.
“Feels weird,” she says after he pulled the plug out of her mouth, a bit of drool following the motion. “Heavy. Won't they just fall out?”
“You'll have to clench around them, keep them in,” he tells her, tilting his head. “That's how we'll train your muscles, so you'll be able to hold in everything I'll shove inside you. Fun, huh? It'll also help with bladder control,” he adds, watching how she blushes deeply and looks away, highly embarrassed. He squeezes her arm. “You'll be fine. Now, bend over once more for me? We'll have to train your other hole too.”
She does as he tells her, her hands sinking into the soft bedding as she leans forward, and it only takes him a few seconds and a few dollops of ointment to push the plug into her ass. It's relatively small also, much smaller than she's used to anyway. The sparkling knob shimmers as he moves her hips left and right to test her a little. Her muscles grip beautifully around the object.
“Good,” he praises, helping her stand again. “Remind me not to take you through any metal detectors tonight, hm? Would be quite the show,” he adds with a playful smirk. She only blushes more, avoiding his gaze.
As she stands, he cups his large hand around her mound, testing the state of her cunt. For now, she keeps the balls securely inside, though he fears with how wet she already is, they might slip out sooner than he had hoped. It surely doesn't help that he can't stop himself from teasing her clit, feeling it throb lightly against his finger.
“You excited for tonight?” he asks her, rubbing his hand along her inner thigh and around her backside.
She looks up at him, tense, forcing herself to be his good little girl even though he can tell she's struggling, probably anxious which of his plans he'll make a reality later. “I'm just happy to spend time with you,” she then whispers, a shy smile making her lips twitch.
“Aren't you the cutest,” he sighs, grabbing her chin and leaning down to press his lips to hers. “Come on now, I have a surprise for you.”
Her eyes light up, almost distracting her from the clinking metal balls inside her as he starts pulling her after him, out of her room and towards his. The sounds are subtle, and nobody will hear them moving in a busy restaurant, he's sure. If she can keep them in that long.
Once they reach his bedroom, his hand tight around hers, he leads her into his closet. Her eyes fall immediately on the dress, her lips parting.
“For you,” he whispers, stepping behind her with his hands on her shoulders. She shivers when he brushes his lips against her ear. “Wanna try it on?”
“Yes,” she breathes, reaching out to touch the soft fabric as if to make sure it's real. He smiles to himself, watching her as she takes a tentative step towards it.
He really doesn't know a lot about fashion, but he knows people who do, and they sure delivered. The dress is gorgeous, or rather, it looks gorgeous on her. The long flowing material, satin presumably, in that particular shade of off-white or champagne, hugs her small body perfectly, accentuating all the right places, adding volume where there isn't much. His eyes rake over her form, taking her in. She's blushing adorably as he does, but he can't help himself.
The dress was the perfect choice. Modest neckholder top (hiding her collar), cinched in the waist, puffing out her chest just a bit more than usual, with no visible cleavage whatsoever, covering the bruises on her neck and breasts (a shame, actually, that he can't parade her around with his marks all over her, for everyone to see, but he really can't deal with overzealous white knights or bad publicity right now; he'll know they are there, she'll know, and that has to be enough).
“Turn around, darling,” he whispers, still taking in the dress and how it makes her look, so different from what he's used to. She slowly does what he told her, presenting her backside to him.
The top is fastened by a bow, currently covered by her hair, two long shawls falling down between her shoulder blades, the rest of her back and shoulders completely exposed with how the dress is cut. He'd feared the dress would be too modest and innocent, but there's enough skin to get him through the night. Especially since there is a scandalously high slit in the side of the skirt that starts at her left hip, parting the skirt in a way that reveals her entire leg.
Initially he wanted her to wear stockings and a garterbelt, even fancy underwear, but seeing the dress now, he doubts that will be very classy. As if wearing no underwear was better, but it wouldn't be as obvious. He'll probably let her go commando, to force her to train those muscles and keep the balls in, while it's also highly convenient to him, because... well, easy access. And as long as she'll keep her legs closed, no one will notice anything anyway – and he'll make sure to not let anyone near her also. That slit (and the other slit made available like that) is for him and him alone.
Following the line of her leg (getting slightly distracted by how tiny her waist and how wide her hips look due to how the dress is draped around her), he frowns, realizing she may be shorter than he's anticipated. The dress falls onto the floor in soft waves, definitely dragging after her when she walks. He tilts his head, then looks at the shoe shelf next to her.
“How comfortable are you on high heels?” he asks, scanning the contents.
“Not very,” she says quietly. “But those... wedges you made me wear before were okay.”
He throws her a glance, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth. He bought several of the same kind for her, now choosing a beige pair with soft looking ribbons that'll tie around her calf beautifully. “These will do,” he says, taking them out and putting them down in front of her.
She looks from the shoes up to him, and he only tilts his head and motions her to sit down on the little stool next to the mirror. She winces slightly when she sits down, the metal balls shifting within her with a barely audible clink, but then extends her leg to him. As he kneels down in front of her, he sees her blushing. He's acutely aware how their roles have changed, or rather advanced, but then it also feels natural, helping her into her shoes.
He's never considered himself a true Dominant, not in the classical (consensual) sense, since he isn't very keen on following rules and would probably be shunned by the community too for how he's been treating women before, but with this sweet little girl, this beautiful young woman, it's almost second nature, to guide and assist her, to bring out her submissiveness as well as her trust. He hates thinking in labels, and he won't start putting them into a mold and live a normal life any time soon, so it really doesn't matter either way. The only rule that's important to him is her following his every word, no hesitation, no defiance. Thus far, she's doing a great job.
Holding her gaze, he carefully closes his hands around her calf and pulls her foot closer, then starts slipping the shoe on, reveling in how her breath hitches at the gentle touch, before fastening the ribbons around her ankle and higher. She watches him with bated breath, cheeks dusted with a soft pink, a warm expression in her eyes. Once he's done the same to the other foot, he smiles at her, slowly standing up, one hand finding her cheek before he leans down to press a soft kiss to the other. A tiny giggle hums in his ear when he straightens up.
“Stand for me,” he tells her and steps back, watching her finding her balance on the platform shoes. Now the dress falls slightly better, no longer dragging on the floor. “Beautiful,” he adds, sliding his fingers down her bare arm to grab her hand.
She smiles shyly, squeezing his digits. “Thank you for the dress,” she whispers, head tilted up to look at him, eyes glistening. He nods, lost in her soft gaze for a moment.
“Put your hair up. I'll find you some jewelry,” he then says, leading her back into the bedroom.
As she hums her confirmation, he gives her a gentle nudge out of the room, watching her as she tries to walk as graceful as possible on those unfamiliar heels and with two metal balls wedged inside her cunt. She's doing okay. At least it makes him smile.
“Table for two? Follow me,” the waitress says with a wide smile and a nod after he's confirmed his reservation with her.
The restaurant isn't as packed as he had feared, they are still early. He walks slowly after the tall woman who's way too eager to bring them (or rather him) to their table, while the girl clings to his arm, still in need of his support on those heels. She looks even more beautiful with her hair up, pinned in place with the occasional loose strand falling free, grazing her bare shoulders. He's put golden bracelets on her thin wrists, would have loved to give her more, but since she doesn't have pierced ears and the dress doesn't allow a necklace, he's left it at that.
She's also not wearing any make-up, as he prefers to see her natural beauty shine through. That intense blush never leaves her cheeks anyway when he's around. Of course he's helped with that earlier in the car, on the short ride over, unable to control himself after all as he's fingered her lightly, mostly to make sure the Ben Wa balls were still in place, but also to tease her just enough so she'll remain on edge the entire night, never knowing what he'll do next.
He's tempted to take her to the restroom before their three course dinner, but then he fears she would expect just that, so he refrains, fighting the urge. It'll only make it better, more exhilarating, once he's finally able to sink his cock into her warmth (which hopefully happens after dinner, that's as unpredictable as he can get with his balls tensing already).
Before they've left, he's fed her her birth control pill, so she should be good to go once he's ready to empty himself inside her. That's as much preparation as he could muster – without letting the tempting thoughts take over. He still can't believe he's actually restraining himself, for her sake, to allow her to heal, at least to some degree. Any other girl would have ended up on their knees or bent over or folded in half, stuffed full and soiled, no matter the things he'd done to them earlier. To satisfy him, as is their purpose.
To be fair, he's never taken any of those girls to dinner before, that's reserved for business partners and old friends, the occasional date that never went beyond a casual fuck afterwards. To have this submissive girl by his side, holding onto his arm like a lifeline, depending on him, feels like a new experience entirely. Of course he wouldn't have taken her here if he wouldn't trust her, wouldn't know she'd behave herself, but it's still a thrill, miming a normal couple, man and woman, sitting together, eating and drinking, enjoying themselves, while he keeps thinking of ways to relieve his urges with her, preferably in the most depraved ways possible.
Hell knows he's a good actor.
The waitress leads them to a corner table, right by the large windows, looking down over the city, lights glittering up to them. He helps the girl onto her seat, noticing the little gasp that leaves her as she sits down, those metal balls shifting within her. She's holding up surprisingly well. His good girl. His hand is on her shoulder as he sits down beside her, free hand undoing the buttons of his jacket. They sit at a slight angle around the round table, but still close enough to allow for his hand to find her bare thigh through the long slit of her dress. She smiles shyly at him, those cheeks still rosy, a little anxious furrow between her brows.
He squeezes her thigh, smiles back, then turns the same smile, only faker, towards the waitress when he orders their best wine and a large glass of water. He needs to keep the girl hydrated. For later purposes.
Relaxing once they're alone, he watches her take in their surroundings with wide eyes. The restaurant is situated high above the city, probably at the same height as his penthouse, just a few blocks over. Dinner reservations are highly sought after and booked long in advance, but with a few connections and the appropriate incentive, he can usually find a table here whenever he likes. The wish to take her here has been a spontaneous development, nothing he had planned, per se, but she seems to enjoy it nonetheless. If it wasn't for her expensive dress and pretty hairdo (and those gold accessories), she'd look totally out of place, way too young to ever enter such an establishment, yet at his side, with his hand on her leg, she belongs, and he'd fight anyone claiming the opposite.
That's how far he's come. Defending her honor. As if she'd be a proper individual and not his submissive, his little plaything, a girl whose purpose is to please him. Despite his recent shift in character, the darkness is still very much present within him, just muted, behind a thick veil that strengthens every time she's particularly adorable. To fall for such cheap tricks... What a disgrace.
Looking away from her, he inhales deeply, tightening his fingers around her soft thigh, fingertips creeping towards her warm center. How bad he wants to feel her wetness, feel those balls stretch her core, make them clink, make her mewl, right here, right now, but he should at least wait until their drinks arrive, or the entrée, until dessert even? No, too long. He can't wait that long.
A rough breath escapes him, and in a fluid motion, he lets go of her, grabs the underside of her chair and yanks her towards him until his leg presses against hers. He masks the new seating arrangement by throwing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him, motioning her to look ahead through the window to stay inconspicuous, while his fingers tease along the edge of her dress, ready to slip beneath it. With how its draped around her breasts and torso, he could just push it aside and expose her soft mounds, but forcing himself to keep it classy, for now, he only nudges his fingertips against her warm skin.
Her breaths are a little labored, her body stiff against him, but she just lets him, of course she does, she's his good little girl, and she promised him to behave and let him do whatever he wants to do with her. With one hand still fondling the side of her boob, he leans forward and hooks the other hand under her thigh, opening that slit dangerously as he pulls her leg over his lap. She looks at him in alarm, but he only smiles at her, the hand on her chest moving down, circling her waist, to then slip between her legs, covering her mound, helping her keep those balls in.
She presses into him, face fully flushed, but it's only him who notices in the dim lights of the restaurant. While they sit with their backs to the rest of the room, he knows they're safe in their corner, having chosen this particular table for exactly this reason. Unless there's a peeping tom with binoculars on the roof across from them, looking in, nobody but him will see how her bare cunt blushes in the light breeze of the AC, how his palm presses against her puffy folds, creating the quietest little squelching noise that gets lost in the ambient music all around them.
Still she can't help but squirm against him until he shushes her gently, leaning close to brush his lips to her temple. She freezes, inhales sharply, but slowly relaxes again. “Good girl,” he rasps into her hair. And while she seems to be soothed by his praise, she still lets out a soft gasp and clasps her hands to his wrist when the waitress approaches their table with their drinks. He knows the woman has better things to do than wonder about a man's hand in a girl's lap.
Completely unfazed, he orders for them, ignoring the girl's uneven breaths and the way she presses his hand between her thighs, hoping to cover it up. Adorable. Ultimately, she achieves the complete opposite, as he watches the waitress' eyes shift towards his blushing date for a moment before focusing back on him. But he couldn't care less. He gives the woman a smile, noting her professionalism, then watches her walk away.
“She saw,” he whispers, tilting his head to nudge his chin against her head. “You need to work on that poker face, darling.”
She lets out a little whine, raising her hands to cover her face, but he only chuckles, kissing her hair. His hand remains curled around her warmth, slowly rubbing up and down, feeling her wetness coating his palm. Despite her obvious apprehension, her body betrays her, and she has to admit that she likes being touched in public like this. If only she knew what he'd done with the girls before her... She'd die on the spot.
As the memories of former conquests fill his mind (and his cock), he leans into her, winding down, sighing deeply, mindlessly rubbing his free hand over her leg on his lap. From telling girls to strip for him in a busy street, to having them crawl behind him on their hands and knees, wearing only a collar and a leash, to bringing them into the sketchier parts of town, tying them to poles or leaving them in abandoned buildings and letting fate take its course, he's done it all, and never looked back in regret. Yet at the same time he knows, he will never subject her to the same things.
She was made for him, for his pleasure, alone in the privacy of his home, not for others to take because he's grown bored of her. He couldn't even imagine growing bored of a sweet little thing like her. She's willing to do everything for him, but not with the energy of a whore wanting his attention, but the nervousness of an inexperienced girl, wanting to learn, to please, to be with him. To not be alone anymore.
It might have started with an innocent crush, but they both know now that what she needed has been a deeper desire, an urge to be led and guided, to be shown the ways, to be held afterwards, to be owned and cared for. And while he never strove to do these things for any woman in the world, he may just have found his match, the one to change his ways for. As unwillingly as it has started.
Inhaling deeply, taking in her soft scent, he closes his eyes for a moment, reveling in how close she is, how warm and wet for him, how docile in his grasp. It's only a matter of time before his darkness seeps through the cracks, his cock stirring as he opens his eyes and leans in to nibble at the shell of her ear, whispering: “I can't wait to fuck you against that window later. Hmm... For everyone to see? Would you like that?”
She stiffens immediately, more so when he bends a finger and teases at her hole, feeling the smooth surface of one of the balls against his fingertip. “They... they'd kick us out,” she croaks nervously, another little shriek escaping her when he pushes his finger deeper, nudging the ball against the other.
He laughs. “Oh baby, nobody will kick me out, don't worry. They wouldn't dare...”
Her lashes flutter as she forces herself to remain calm, and it's only her warm cheeks, blooming deep red, that would give her away. “You... you'd do that? Right here?” she whispers breathlessly.
“Yeah,” he replies hoarsely, pumping his finger in and out slowly. “I'd lift up your dress and expose you. I'd make you push out those balls and tell you to hold them, before I'd sink my cock into your tight cunt, standing behind you, pressing you to the glass pane, and as I fuck you, we can enjoy the lights of the city beneath us. That's as romantic as I can get, baby girl.”
She shivers, her fingernails digging into his wrist as she holds onto his hand, her gaze straight ahead through the window, probably imagining what he's just told her. Truth be told, he wouldn't do that, maybe after hours, but not in a full restaurant. They might not dare to kick him out, but there are too many bystanders around who have no idea who he is and what he's capable of, and he'd like to keep his good reputation for now. As false as it may be.
Eventually he slips his finger free, wipes it on her inner thigh. Kissing the top of her head, he leans back, his hand casually resting on her waist, the other on her leg, a gentle gesture, still possessive, but not as unusual. She inhales deeply, shoulders relaxing, sinking against his body. Turning his head to look over his shoulder, scanning the room, he takes another whiff of her hair.
“I will fuck you tonight,” he says under his breath. “I'll see where and when, you just wait.”
“O-okay,” she whispers back, her voice that uncertain little hum, a bit of defeat swimming in her tone.
That's right, baby, learn to accept the unpredictable, he thinks, humming against her before turning back, settling into his seat.
The first course, some kind of soup he doesn't really care about, arrives a few minutes later, and he keeps his arm around the girl, watching her slurp the thick broth before he feeds her a bit of bread. The more she eats, the less nervous she appears. Sipping on his wine, he watches her, that warmth in his lower stomach as confusing as ever. It's this strange domesticity he's experienced with her before, just acting normal, eating and drinking, enjoying the other's company, without any sexual undertone, that the darkness within him has a hard time comprehending.
How can he be happy just watching a girl eat an overly expensive soup in a fancy restaurant, a place she might have never stepped into without him? How is watching her coo and mewl over the exquisite tastes and flavors so relaxing, so grounding? Her mere presence so comforting? He has no idea.
Downing the rest of his wine, he then raises his glass, demanding another, knowing the staff is watching him from afar. Another waiter arrives and fills his glass again, asking him when he wants the main course to be brought out. He watches the girl, sunken into her chair as soon as the waiter's come over. Her soup bowl is almost empty (hungry little thing), so he agrees to have it in the next five minutes. The other man bows and leaves, and she relaxes, her leg, still draped over his, twitching, his hand curling around it tighter.
He pulls her a little closer against him, his other hand slipping down her stomach, back around her mound, fingers teasing between her soft folds. Easy access was the best choice for tonight. “How was the soup?” he whispers, head turned to brush his lips against her temple, his voice low.
“Really good,” she replies quietly and a little breathlessly, slowly learning to ignore the sensation he forces on her, definitely training her poker face.
“Yeah? What did it taste like?” he rasps, nuzzling her ear.
“Uh, pumpkin, I think? I don't know, it was really hearty and warm, and so smooth and c-creamy-eeh,” she tries to tell him, a stutter and a soft little shriek in her tone the moment he dips two fingers into her clenching cunt.
“Creamy, hm? Better than your usual... cream?” he teases, chuckling darkly.
She almost chokes on her spit, be it the question and implication or his digits curling, playing with the metal balls pressing into her walls, stimulating her special spots, a quiet clink to them as they move. “N-no?” she gasps, clearly trying to impress him.
He only laughs softly, kissing the shell of her ear. “You'll get your share later, don't worry.”
He sees movement out of the corner of his eye, his loud exhale making a strand of her hair dance. Reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out of her squelching hole, smearing her wetness on her inner thigh, then he even puts her leg back, and she immediately presses her thighs together, sitting up straighter.
Two waiters arrive and put down two ridiculously large plates with barely any food on them onto the table. While he's used to these tiny portions, the girl stares at her plate with a frown. Even her soup bowl has been bigger than the intricate arrangement of steak, beans and potato they're calling the main course. At least they're offering an additional dish of savory gravy at the side.
Once the waiters are gone, she picks up her fork and knife, only to freeze mid-motion when he puts his hand on her arm. “No, darling, you wait,” he tells her quietly, watching the frown grow on her beautiful face. “I let you eat the soup, now I'll eat the steak, and you wait till I'm done. Understood?”
There's a furrow between her eyebrows, but she nods nonetheless. “Yes, sir.”
“Mhm,” he makes, picking up his own cutlery as soon as she lowers hers, her hands back on her lap, folded neatly. “Good girl.”
He takes his time, enjoys every bite. The meat is perfectly presented, rare, juicy and flavorful, the gravy complimenting it nicely. Green beans wrapped in delicious bacon and faintly roasted potatoes are surprisingly well seasoned too. He's expected no less of this place, for the amount of money he's leaving here. Cutting the last piece of steak into two smaller bites, he pokes his fork into one and tilts his head, watching the girl who keeps staring through the window, and he can tell how hungry she is as she keeps licking and chewing on her lips. If she'd be a dog, she'd be openly salivating for sure.
“Open wide, darling,” he tells her, and she turns to him, eyes sparkling, parting her lips instantly. He puts the steak bite between her teeth, watching her closely. She waits, a bit of drool gathering on her tongue. He gives a dark chuckle before he releases her. “Eat.” She closes her lips around his fork and pulls, then slowly chews what he gave her.
Once she's done, swallowing thickly, she gives him a shy smile. “Thank you, sir.”
He just nods, focusing back on his emptying plate. “Why don't you play with yourself while you wait, hm? Poke those balls?” he mentions mid-bite, his voice casual, and she still stiffens slightly next to him, her breath hitching. “Or you could try pushing one out and back in again, hm? Train your clenching?”
She clears her throat, but her hand still slips under her dress. Shifting on her chair, her face a mask of concentration, she tries her best to remain as inconspicuous as possible, her back stiff, forcing herself not to hunch over, her legs shaking as she presses one against his. He can hear the soft squelching sounds of her wetness, then the clinking of the metal balls. She keeps shifting, squirming, leaning left and right, really trying to do what he told her, but her labored breaths tell him she isn't very successful in her endeavor.
“Curl your fingers into your hole, open yourself up,” he instructs quietly, bringing the last piece of potato to his lips. “Then clench and push, let gravity do its thing.”
A whine escapes her when she straightens up slightly, before she gasps, and he can hear the soft clink as the balls move.
“Only one, darling,” he says sternly. “Show me when you've done it.”
It's too amusing to watch her struggling, her hands between her spread legs, fumbling to fulfill his command. Her face is beet-red, brows furrowed, lips pressed together, the tip of her tongue poking out between them. Adorable. Eventually she exhales, pauses, forces her breathing to even out, before she pulls one hand from under her dress, fingers wet and tight around the shining metal ball. Slowly uncurling them, she shows him the successful extraction, a proud smile on her face.
“Good, well done,” he praises, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Now lick it clean and put it back in.”
Her smile vanishes instantly, another wave of heat crashing through her face. Yet she still raises her hand, hiding the ball in her fist, curling into him to shield herself from any possible onlooker, before she extends her tongue and licks along the smooth surface. He gives her a stern “Tsk”, and she looks at him like a deer in headlights.
“It's small enough, put it in your mouth.”
She takes a shaking breath, but eventually pushes her palm against her mouth, parting her lips, opening her jaw, then letting the ball slip onto her tongue. Her frown remains, her own taste probably assaulting her senses. He watches her, one arm casually draped around her shoulders, eyes dancing over her flushed face. The seconds tick by, maybe even a minute, while she holds his gaze, her cheeks bulging as she tries to keep the ball between her teeth, lips trembling under the strain. Once a bead of drool passes the corner of her mouth, he nods, and she spits it out onto her palm, licking the excess saliva off her lips.
“And back in it goes. Show me,” he says quietly, tilting his head.
She breathes loudly through her nose, almost a sound of defiance he has to remember for later, before she moves the fabric of her dress aside and exposes her bare mound to him and whoever might spy on them from the building across from them. Her hand is shaking when she moves it between her thighs, rubbing down to poke at her hole, before the other follows, the ball held between her thumb and fingers as she nudges it between her folds, against her entrance, knuckles blanching when she pushes it into herself.
The soft clink of the metal balls reuniting makes him smile. “Such a good girl, so brave,” he praises, rubbing his hand down her bare arm. “Well done. Wasn't that hard, was it?”
She inhales deeply, slowly closing her legs again, her head bowed in growing shame. “Anything for you,” she mumbles, a quiver to her voice and lips.
“Indeed,” he replies, pulling her closer by the shoulder to press his lips to her temple. “Never hesitate again, darling, or you'll know what I'll do...”
She gasps softly, a sniffle in the air. “I'm sorry, sir.”
“All good, you did it, didn't you?” She hums in response. “Yeah, you did. Now eat your dinner.”
“Thank you,” she breathes, slowly picking up her cutlery, focusing on her meal.
He leans back and watches her, wine glass in hand, savoring the rich taste. He's expected her to really hesitate, maybe even whine about the task, but he barely had to nudge her in the end. His perfect little girl, so obedient. If he wanted to, he could make her do anything, yet his decision stands. She's different, she doesn't have to endure the things the girls before her had to live through.
She eats slowly, savoring every small bite, occasionally searching his gaze which he replies with a smile that makes her blush deeply. Those rosy cheeks. He remembers one girl he had to slap constantly so she'd have a bit of color on her pale face; luckily the girl next to him is humbled enough to provide her own blush. No violence for her, only praises. He has to admit that it grows on him to be so soft to her. He was never the type to provide princess treatment, but with her... yeah, it's easier than he has thought.
When his second wine glass is empty, the buzz only a faint sensation in the back of his head, she lowers her fork and knife with a sweet sigh, her plate as empty as his. Licking her lips, she looks at him again, and he nods towards the large water glass she hasn't touched before.
“Drink,” he says, watching her when she does, tentative little sips, but he holds her gaze over the rim of the glass until she's done, all that water inside her, definitely needed later. He can't wait. “Good girl,” he praises when she puts the glass back down.
She smiles shyly, nestling into his side. He squeezes her arm, looking past her through the window. Night is approaching, the lights of the city shining brighter, a soft orange glow all around. Pulling her closer, his hand slowly slips back around her stomach and between her legs, his fingers probing curiously. She spreads them only slightly, her breath hitching, but he ignores it, poking into her until he can make the balls clink together.
“How does it feel? Can you still hold them?” he asks quietly.
“Yes, when I'm sitting, it's fine. They feel... um... kinda nice...” she replies under her breath, chewing on her bottom lip as he curls his fingers.
“They do, hm? Good. You'll train with them again soon. I'll get you larger ones eventually, and you'll hold those too. I know you can do it, you've done so well so far, haven't you?”
She hums softly, resting her head against him as he keeps fingering her softly under the table. He barely registers the ambient music or the clinking of cutlery and low chatter from behind them, having shut out they're in a full restaurant. He's more focused on her soft mewls, those wet squelches, and the noises the metal balls make when he pushes them together. His cock twitches against his pants, thickening by the second. One last course, and he can finally bend her over and relieve the urges. Maybe they'll make it to the car, but the alley might do too, or even the restroom if all else fails. He can make her keep quiet, he's sure.
As her breathing gets quicker, he stops his constant pumping, just rests his fingers inside her wet warmth, feeling her muscles clenching, walls fluttering. He won't make her come. That's something only he gets to see. Later. Exhaling loudly, making her hair fly, he holds her, waits for her to calm down.
“Ready for dessert?” he rasps against her head, her soft scent in his nose.
“What did you order?” she asks, the prospect of more food making her sound almost bold.
He smirks to himself. “The best mousse au chocolat in the city.”
“Ohh,” she coos, turning her head to beam at him, eyes glowing happily. He smiles at her before he leans down and presses his lips to her nose, which earns him a soft giggle.
Patting her wet mound, he pulls his hand back, tempted to lick his fingers clean himself, but instead he waves them in front of her face, and she grabs his wrist eagerly, closing her eyes as her tongue swirls around his digits as if he's already presented her with dessert. His cock stirs.
Once he deems his hand clean, though now covered in her saliva, he pulls his arm from around her and turns back to where the waiting staff awaits his next request. He only gives a short wave, and two servers come, one to clean their table, the other putting down two small glasses filled with dark chocolate mousse in front of them. The girl's eyes widen as she takes a deep whiff of the sweet treat.
The waiters leave, and she looks at him, licking her lip. “May I... may I taste it?” she whispers pleadingly, and he chuckles, but shakes his head. A pout forms on her full lips.
“I'm gonna feed you, darling, you deserve as much, hm?” he says quietly, watching her face light up again.
Picking up the little spoon, he dips it into the soft cream and scoops some up, and even before he brings the spoon to her face, she opens her mouth, waiting more or less patiently, her tongue shifting nervously over her bottom lip. A grin creeps onto his face. “Little sweet tooth, aren't you?” he muses, and she only lets out a little whine, tongue still out. “Fine, let me indulge you.”
He feeds her the first bite, and she almost swoons, eyes rolling back as the rich chocolate hits her taste buds. He dips the spoon again, and when the second scoop meets her tongue, her lips greedily closing around the utensil before he pulls it back, he grabs her chin with his other hand and holds her still, staring into her eyes, gives her a second, and another, before he leans in and pushes his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deeply, sharing the sweet taste. She mewls into him, her eyelids fluttering. He holds her until the chocolate is gone.
“I think I still prefer your sweet little cunt,” he breathes into her, giving her a wink. Her blush spreads, eyelashes dancing against her cheeks. “Eat up now.”
She blinks her eyes into focus and nods quickly, taking the glass and spoon from his hands and starts devouring the rest of the mousse. He watches her fondly, and when her glass is empty and she's scraping the spoon along the edges to get it all, he simply pushes his dessert towards her as well. She freezes, then looks at him with big eyes.
“Really?” she whispers breathlessly.
“Yeah, really. You can have mine,” he tells her. “I'm sure you'll repay me later, right?”
She bites her lip, nodding eagerly. “I'll do anything,” she says on an exhale, sounding so starved it's almost comical, before she gingerly takes his glass to sink her spoon into the rich cream.
He chuckles darkly. “Oh I'll remind you of that promise, darling. Doing anything for a bit of chocolate? Impressive.”
“It is the best mousse in the city,” she replies through a mouthful of dessert.
“How do you know, hm?” he teases, leaning back with his head tilted, arms crossing in front of his chest.
She swallows. “Well, you said so. I believe you. It is really, really good!”
His smirk widens, something warm settling low in his stomach. For a moment he is just stunned, in a good way, watching the girl savoring every bite, who's so oblivious to his own hunger, to his own confusing feelings. She's just happy to enjoy this unusual treat, happy to be here, with him, and he? Feels the same. Just looking at her, sharing the joy, seems enough. As much as the darkness inside him stirs to finally use her again, sex is not at the very forefront of his mind right now. The realization of that sits heavy in his gut.
Fortunately it's only a moment, and when it passes, when he sees the girl licking her small tongue around her mouth, so enthralled by the dessert she completely forgets her manners and rubs her index finger around the edges of the glass to gather up any remaining cream, his mind spirals back to how she used the same tongue and fingers on his cock just this morning, how she'll devour him again soon. He's sure she'll be just as happy licking up his cream, which in turn will make him happy.
The cycle continues. It has to. He isn't built to take girls out to dinner and pamper and treat them to expensive desserts. He's made to take them, period, use them, just like they are made to service and please him, and her especially. Her place is still by his side, on her knees, submissively waiting for his commands. And no goddamn mousse will ever change that!
His hand finds her nape, fingers digging into the fabric covering her collar. She stiffens slightly, lowering the now completely clean glass. Slowly she turns her head towards him, her eyes wandering over his face. His smirk is gone, a stern gaze in its stead. She shouldn't get used to him being so carefree and generous, it's not who he is, and she knows better, he can tell, as she straightens up slightly, a bit of uncertainty swimming in her eyes.
Still holding the back of her neck, he reaches out his other hand and wipes a bit of chocolate off her cheek, then pushes the same finger between her lips, waiting for her to lick it clean. She even sucks on it gently, her tongue flicking around his fingertip, cheeks hollowing. Soon her eyes glaze over, her breaths becoming shallow. His black soul is smiling as he continues to glare at her darkly.
“We're gonna leave now,” he tells her quietly, fishing a stack of bills out of the inner pocket of his jacket that he slowly puts on the table while holding her gaze. “You're gonna follow me into the restroom. No hesitation, no defiance. You'll hold up your dress and you'll bend over and let me fuck you. I might leave those balls inside you as I do that, or I'll make you hold them. I'll decide whether I'll come in your cunt or up your ass, or down your throat. You'll remain quiet throughout. Understood?”
A series of shivers crashes through her while she listens, the movement of her tongue stilling as she tries to comprehend his words. He pulls his finger out of her mouth. She nods immediately.
“Yes, sir.”
While his mind is already busy imagining what he'll do to her once they're fully alone, they still have to walk through the restaurant to get there. He stands, helping her up. She's clinging to his arm, her hips shifting nervously as she adjusts to the sensation within her, gravity pulling at the balls. His hand finds her lower back, guiding her around the chair.
“I...” she starts, biting her lip as she looks up at him, discomfort written all over her pretty face. He can tell she's rubbing her thighs together.
“What is it?” he asks, bending down slightly.
“I think I... I'm so...” she stammers, her eyes flicking past him until he cups her face and makes her focus on him. “W-wet,” she adds under her breath, cheeks burning up bright red.
He smiles, straightens up, then slips his hand around her rear, assessing the state of her dress. “Don't worry, the fabric's too thick to let anything show. You're fine. Just walk normally.”
She nods, inhaling sharply as she gets in line beside him, hand resting on his forearm as he leads her slowly past the adjacent tables. The waitress from before approaches him with a fake smile.
“Has everything been to your liking, sir?” she asks, before she nods to a pair of waiters who eagerly check their table and the money he's left them.
“Absolutely,” he says, inclining his head, fake-smiling back. “The mousse was really good, wasn't it?” he adds, shifting his gaze to the girl on his arm. She nods shyly, her lips twitching. “Compliments to the chef.”
More pleasantries he doesn't care about are exchanged before he eventually motions them towards the restroom. While the girl probably hopes nobody will wonder why they're entering it together, he knows for a fact that the staff is pretty aware of the goings-on in their establishment. He hasn't really held back this night either, his quota for PDAs abnormally high. Doesn't matter. He knows he can count on their discretion, he's paid enough to allow him anything.
As soon as the door closes, he locks it, then gently shoves the girl towards the vanity on the right. For a more or less public restroom, this one is particularly nice. As fancy as the rest of the place, with intricate light fixtures, actual plants, a full-length mirror, and even the free standing toilet bowl looks as clean as he can hope. On top of it all, he knows from experience that the walls are pretty soundproof too.
With his arms crossed in front of his chest, he watches her as she gathers the fabric of her long dress until he can see her cute little ass, her colorful bruises barely visible in the ambient lighting. She looks at him over her shoulder as she leans against the vanity, her lips quivering slightly, a deep blush permanently edged onto her cheeks it seems.
“C-can you help me... with the... b-balls?” she whispers quietly, her eyes soft, flicking around shyly.
He relaxes and takes a step closer, hand extended until his long fingers brush against the soft curves of her backside. She inhales sharply when he traces them down until he can poke at the little heart-shaped base of her plug.
“You want them out?” he asks, standing fully behind her now, both hands on her ass cheeks, kneading and exploring, testing her reflexes as he pushes gently into some of the darker marks he's left on there.
“I... I can barely hold them anymore...” she gasps, legs trembling under his ministrations, the occasional shudder crashing through her as he tests her pain sensitivity.
“Too wet for me, huh?” he muses, sliding his hands lower, lifting her cheeks, thumbs tracing the outer sides of her labia. Swollen, wet, so soft under his rough fingers.
“Yes,” she breathes.
“My good girl.”
He sighs when he crouches behind her, palms gliding down her slick thighs, gently prying them apart. She mewls when he leans in and presses his lips to the underside of her ass, inhaling deeply, her scent, so sweet, so potent, making his head spin. Her arousal drips down his fingers as he teases between her folds, carefully pulling them apart for closer inspection.
“Clench for me,” he tells her, and she does, and he watches her hole winking at him, the metal balls visible just behind her glistening flesh, indeed close to slipping free. “Again.” Her breath hitches, but she complies. His thumbs rub through her slick. “Put one hand between your legs, you might have to catch them.”
She fumbles, her hand shaking as she follows his words. He takes her hand and rubs it along her mound for a moment, her fingers twitching when he bends them gently, making her poke her own fingertips into her entrance.
“Feel for them,” he whispers, his breath fanning over her wet skin that pebbles in response. “And hold your hand there.” She gasps her confirmation, and he puts his hands on the backs of her thighs, thumbs pulling her flesh apart until he opens her up more. “Push...”
She works her muscles, and when one ball slips through her opening, she can barely catch it. The second follows quick, and he helps her by guiding his thumb. The weighted metal spheres glisten in her juices, are warm to the touch, her hole gaping a little before it resumes its original state. He curls his hand around hers, letting her hold them.
“Well done, darling,” he praises, still mesmerized by her arousal so close to his face.
He can't help it, he leans in and closes his lips around her labia, sucking gently, tasting her. She gasps, squirms, shivers, and he keeps licking up wide stripes between her puffy folds, his hands on her legs, spreading them, tilting her hips, until he can reach the throbbing little nub of her clit. She arches into his hold, forcing herself to remain quiet when he goes down on her, losing himself in her sweet taste and scent. Breathing harder, he stops when she starts shaking more, thighs twitching under his palms.
Taking one more deep whiff of her, he lets go of her and stands, wiping at his wet chin and cheeks. With his cock straining against his pants, he can barely think, can only grab her waist and spin her around, reveling in her surprised noises, her flushed face, those big eyes watching him as he lifts her up and sits her on the edge of the counter, stepping between her spread legs. Holding her gaze, nostrils flaring, he unbuckles his belt.
“How do you feel?” he asks, his voice already rough. Any other girl and he'd already be fucking her, hard, not a thought or care about how she might feel. But this girl isn't any other girl, and he waits, more or less patiently, for her reply.
Her free hand, the other curled around the metal balls, her dress wrapped around her arm, finds his wrist, fingers shaking. “I feel good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” she says, and it's that barely audible “Please” she adds that does him in. He watches her, every detail, how her eyes glaze over, how she's shifting on the edge of the vanity, against his hold, her whole body begging him to take her.
“Say it,” he grunts, one hand gripping her thigh tighter, opening her up further as he takes a step closer, before he opens his pants, his other hand slipping in to free his throbbing erection.
“Please... fuck me,” she breathes, that sweet little desperate hum, through parted lips, quivering, chin wobbling, eyes pleading.
He grits his teeth, grips his cock, and it's barely exposed when he presses the leaking head against her entrance, staring her down, his blood pumping, heart racing, and it's thanks to her arousal or those balls or both, that he barely has to use force to enter her. Her muscles give way and he pushes in, sinks home, rolling his hips until he bottoms out. His exhale mixes with her quiet gasp, her body arching as it welcomes him.
Her thighs press against his sides, his hands find her waist, pulling her flush against him. He watches her, breathing harder, feeling how her cunt starts fluttering around his length, pulsing inside her. For a moment he closes his eyes, savoring the tight fit, the warm sensation, their undeniable connection that surpasses the physical one. He doesn't want to admit it, but waiting, giving it time, giving her time, restraining himself and his urges, it was all worth it in the end.
His first thrust is rough, hard, pulling out, slamming back in, right against her already bruised cervix, which makes her shriek quietly, her free hand curling into the front of his dress shirt. He stops, buried deep, slowly opening his eyes.
“Hands behind your back, darling,” he growls lowly, and she obliges with a soft whine, biting her lip as he looks at her. His hands slide down her hips, curl around her ass cheeks, pulling her further to the edge, lifting her slightly. “I got you,” he tells her as she squirms, and he does, holding her as he starts moving against her, pulling her in at the same time as he pushes his pelvis forward.
She's pressing her lips together, face flushed, forcing herself to stay quiet. He wishes he could take his time with her, really savor the tight grip of her cunt, but he's acutely aware that he's already taking too long. This is a public restroom after all. So he quickens his thrusts, a rapid rhythm, a desperate sprint to get them to climax. He's figured she needs release too, so why not. She's been such a good girl tonight, she deserves as much.
His fingers dig into her soft ass, holding her steady as he rams into her, his thick cock pistoning in and out fast, pushing deep, bullying those sore muscles, no mercy, no time for mercy anyway, and her cunt clamps down on him hard, her muffled noises a mixture of breathless mewls and choked cries. He sees tears brimming in her eyes, and as he notices, she squeezes them shut, letting them spill from her lashes down her red cheeks, and he wonders if she's in pain or just very close to coming, overwhelmed by the sensations.
He's been considerate all day long, now he needs to pull through, and he does by rutting into her even faster, bruising her already bruised ass cheeks in his tight grip, his cock slipping in and out in a desperate fashion until he feels her convulsing, her legs twitching against his sides, her torso arching, lips quivering, and when she comes, she freezes, mouth agape, a helpless little gasp slipping out of her throat.
He eases his thrusts, slows down, watching her closely. Her chest is heaving, lips still parted, her breaths those rasping rattles, and he misses her moans, her voiceless squeaks, but he'll hear them again soon, when they have more time, where nobody can hear them. When her eyes flutter open, he's stopped moving altogether, meets her gaze, his own breaths equally labored.
“Not done with you yet,” he whispers, and without waiting for her reaction he lifts her off the vanity, his cock slipping free in the process, and turns her around, his hand on her back as he pushes her down. Fumbling to enter her again, he steps behind her, and when he sinks back in, she lets out a surprised croak.
Holding onto her folded arms, he really starts rutting into her now, quick and sharp, every thrust knocking her forward, the top of her thighs bumping into the hard edge of the counter. As he slams his hips into her cushioned rear, one of his hands slips free and starts playing with her butt plug, that shimmering base too intriguing not to fondle with. Her mewls grow louder, and he shushes her, but doesn't stop pushing the metal plug in and out of her ass. Since she barely squirms under his rapid assault, he lets go of her arms fully and moves his free hand around her, sliding it down her fluttering stomach until he feels her throbbing clit.
Now she's writhing as he keeps poking and prodding, rubbing and pinching it, the sensations mirrored in her clenching cunt. He can barely hide his own groans now, the way she squeezes around his cock feels too divine, and when he feels his balls drawing up, aching to release his seed, he suddenly pulls back and out of her, making her coo in confusion, but then he hooks his fingers around the base of the plug and pulls, hard, until it gives way, and as soon as it leaves her tight rim, he drops it in the sink, the reverberating clinking sound masking the way she shrieks when he grips his cock and forces it into her puckering hole.
Ugh, even tighter. He should make her wear smaller plugs in the future. What a delicious squeeze. Abandoning her clit, he grabs her waist and holds her steady as he rolls his hips and pushes deeper into her ass, ignoring her noises of protest. Luckily (for her), he only needs a few quick hard stabs before he feels the tension in his stomach exploding, his vision blurring, and when the first spurt releases into her warm depths, he tilts his head up and exhales loudly, his cock spasming inside her, balls twitching as he fills her up.
The girl has gone quiet, bent over before him, defeated and accepting her fate, and he savors the moments until he calms down, until his cock slowly deflates, her muscles giving that gentle pressure he really doesn't want to slip away from. But once his panting breaths have eased, he steps back, pulls out, tempted to watch his spend drip out of her gaping hole, but instead he leans over her, grabs the plug, wipes it on her hip before pressing it into her again.
“Clench for me,” he rasps, and she tries, but it takes her sphincter a moment to return to its original state.
He could spank her, but that might push it for her and those waiting for them to leave the restroom. So he circles the metal object around her rim, waiting for her to grip it properly. His other hand rubs up and down her lower back, soothing her.
“You did good, baby girl. I really needed that,” he whispers hoarsely, and her fingers twitch in the folded state of her arms behind her back. He gently places his larger hand into hers, and she grips it, small fingers curling around his digits, a soft sigh escaping her. It's that bit of gentleness that makes her clench, and he can let go of the plug, knowing it'll hold. “Good girl,” he adds, teasing his fingers between her ass cheeks and down to her dripping cunt.
Noticing the Ben Wa balls in her other hand (she's really held onto them through it all, what a champ), he's tempted to press them back into her, but then decides against it. Taking them from her clammy hand, he slips them into his pants pocket, their weight a slight pull in the fabric, the soft clink as they move against each other a little reminder of what she accomplished today.
He's about to put his spent cock away, when she squeezes his hand. “C-can I...”
“Hm?” he wonders, helping her stand up properly as she tries to move. “What is it, baby?”
She shifts on her feet, her eyes darting down to his crotch. A dark chuckle escapes him, and he only points his finger down. She's on her knees instantly, looking up, lips parted, tongue out. So eager to clean him. He did promise her a taste of him earlier, so it's only fair. Gripping his length, he guides it to her open mouth, and she licks around it, her eyes fluttering close. She's quick, licking up and down, teasing him just enough that he feels the tiniest twitch through his core, the blood pumping again. Before he can get hard once more, he steps back.
“Enough,” he says, and she leans back, head bowed, breathing deeper. “Thank you.”
Her eyes are wide when they snap up to meet his, confusion washing over her pretty features as she watches him shove his semi-erect cock back into his underwear. After zipping up his pants, his fingers then move to buckle his belt, and she stays on her knees in front of him until he's done dressing. He savors the sight of her, so submissive, so beautiful, before he extends his hand, palm up, and she quickly grabs it and lets herself be pulled up by him. He flattens her dress around her, hands gliding up and down her sides, then pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks a little messed-up, face flushed, eyes wet and bloodshot, but nothing to worry about. It's not as if nobody knew what they were doing here anyway.
Grabbing her hand, he throws her a smile. “You okay?” he asks quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. She nods, smiling back shyly. His eyes rest on her mouth for a moment, then he leans down and presses his lips to hers for a quick kiss. He remains close to her, whispering ominously: “Good, because the night has just begun, right? I've got a lot more to show you.”
TWENTY-SIX 🟥 TWENTY-SEVEN 🟥 TWENTY-EIGHT
End notes: Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed.
Let me be transparent: chapter 28 is half-way written, but I have no idea when I'll finish it. Stay tuned?
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