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gurugirl · 1 year ago

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Good Friday*

soft dom priest!harry x sub!reader

Summary: Based on this request. Y/n is a brat and she's in for it.

A/N: Thank you for this request! I did change the request slightly due to some safety 'caging' rules for while he was away but I think you'll like it. 4.8k words

Warning: 18+ only, smut (oral), bdsm w/consensual sexual punishment, use of flogger and other instruments, cage play, dom/sub dynamic, religious themes (actual bible quotes), blasphemy

Priest!harry Masterlist

It wasn’t unusual that Harry was busy. He was often pulled away from Y/n for members of his parish that needed him. But Y/n didn’t like that. She wanted to have his attention all day every day. Of course, that was impossible. Especially on Good Friday before Easter.

“Father please, let’s just stay here a little longer.” She was nearly purring as she crawled down his body to worship his frame. Both were naked in their bed together. Harry had Y/n lie on her tummy and read out of Song of Solomon as he massaged her back and bottom. He knew she would get like this so he was trying to do sweet things for her before he left her all afternoon. And now she was turned on and warm and needy. But that was exactly his plan.

“Can’t pet. You know I’ve got to get to it. I have responsibilities other than you. You know that.”

Y/n pouted and looked up at him as she continued moving down his torso, keeping her eyes locked on his. Her intent was to lick his cock and make him give in. He rarely did. His willpower astounded her.

“Please. Father, I need you,” her eyes glinted upward over his form as she lowered her mouth to his prick which was already half-plumped.

“Ah ah ah… you’re not listening to me very well, pet.” He pressed at her forehead to stop her from applying her lips to his skin. As satisfying as that would have been. He really did have things to do. And he enjoyed denying himself (and her) immediate pleasure.

She sat back as Harry got off the bed and began dressing and combing his hair. She followed him and watched with a sad face and the occasional sigh so he’d know how sad she was.

He bit the inside of his cheek to hide his smirk. He enjoyed this.

Just before he picked up his bag to leave he pointed to the bedroom as he looked at Y/n, “In the cage. I’ll be back in two hours to check on you. I’m not going to lock it since I’ll be gone so long but I do expect you to be in there for me when I return.”

She had books and a glass of water and a nice blanket so her cage wasn’t all that bad. In fact, she loved it. It had never been a punishment for her. But there was something about being in the cage while Harry was away that gave her comfort and made her feel safe.

But two hours was a long time. And when she looked at the clock and realized that Harry hadn’t returned when he said he would she began to worry. She let herself out to use the bathroom and peek out the front window. She was undressed, wearing only her red collar with its bell and her gold choker necklace. Running her fingers over the H that dangled from the necklace she straightened the curtains back out and sat on the couch.

And the longer she sat and considered everything the more upset she got. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t just go with him. There would be so many people at the church no one would catch on.

Although, there was the one time that he brought her along and she kept lingering around where Harry was and listening in and peeking around doorways to spot him.

No one noticed it but Harry did and he scolded her for it, saying she was being a little too obvious. Plus they were still treading thin ice after the prayer group incident where Mr. and Mrs. Jeralds might have seen or heard something that night. They still didn’t know either way. Which led to Harry’s new rule. That she was only allowed on regular days of service until they were certain they were in the clear.

Returning to her cage, she pulled the door closed and laid down on her side with a frown. She was a bit worried about the priest. He said two hours and it had nearly been three.

When she heard the front door open and his footsteps into the house she sat up quickly and crossed her legs, awaiting his presence. But before he went into the bedroom to see her she heard him go into the kitchen first.

Now she was angry that he didn’t immediately come to see her first. She crossed her arms and leaned back into the bars and cinched her brows together.

Harry pushed the bedroom door open and looked at the cage where his pet was sitting with a frown and body language that told him she wasn’t happy. He figured she might be a bit put out by his tardiness. Harry was never tardy.

“What’s wrong pet?” He knew what her answer would be.

Except she didn’t answer him. She stared down at her crisscrossed legs and pouted instead.

Sliding the handle to open the door Harry crouched down to get a closer look, “I asked you a question. It’s rude not to answer.”

Silence. She hugged her arms around her middle tighter and jutted her bottom lip out, face angled downward.

“I know I’m late but there’s no reason for you to act like this. You know I get held up sometimes. I’m busy, Y/n.”

The first noise that sounded from her was a scoff as she closed her eyes. She knew she’d be in for it with that.

Harry licked his lips as he nodded, “So it’s like that then? All right. Look at me.”

Y/n held her ground, not moving, nor opening her eyes. She was going to make a point.

“You’re acting like a child. Did I somehow leave a lovely and mature adult woman and come back to a bratty immature little girl?”

Turning her head to look down to the floor next to her knee she huffed and sunk into herself further.

“So that’s it then? You’re no longer my sweet lover? Just a brat? Someone that needs to be punished and not loved on?”

Her ridged composure softened the slightest. She would prefer to be loved on yes, but being a brat was always a good way to get his attention. And she knew he was leaving again soon to go back to the church for a few more hours so her best bet, in her mind, was to act out and have him put his attention on her and get him worked up in the process. Maybe he’d spank her.

Harry reached a hand in and brushed it over her naked knee, “Because I had planned on coming home to you and holding you. Giving you something special for being my good pet before I have to go back to church. Clearly, you don’t want that.”

Y/n looked up at the priest and rounded her eyes. She suddenly regretted her behavior but she was already committed so she stayed silent despite the obvious hesitation Harry saw in her.

“Come on. Get out.” Harry took her hand and gently pulled at it.

She didn’t budge at first. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her giving in so easily. But eventually, she did move and crawl out of the cage when Harry stood up and raised his voice to have her come out.

She sniffed as she stood and looked down at the floor.

“Look at me.”

With a heavy sigh, she slowly turned her eyes up to his.

“Good. Now, go use the bathroom. Right now.”

She knew what this meant. He was going to lock her in her cage (at the very least) while he was away and he needed to make sure she’d emptied her bladder beforehand. They’d done this before.

Silently she made her way to the bathroom as Harry filled a glass of water for her in the kitchen.

When he heard the sink turn off after she’d washed her hands he knocked on the door, “Come out here.”

She was pretty sight stepping out into the hallway. Her cheeks were hot and her little red collar looked so lovely on her neck. Harry looked down over her nude shape. Soft breasts, a pretty belly button, grabbable hips and thighs, a bottom he loved biting.

“Drink.” He handed her the glass of water and watched as she took a few gulps of it and handed it back to him.

“Is that all you want? You’re going to be in the cage for another few hours so if you get thirsty that’s going to be on you.” Harry always made sure she stayed hydrated even when she wasn’t going to be locked in her cage. He always took care of her the best he could.

She nodded silently and looked downward again.

Harry nudged her toward the bedroom and made her turn to face the cage. She half expected him to spank her or something but instead, as he walked away and then returned put the leather gag belt over her face, “Open,” he said plainly.

She opened her mouth and the silicon ball fit between her lips and silenced any noises she might have made. He secured the belt in place behind her head and removed his hands from her completely. Which she hated. She wanted him to spank her or manhandle her or something. But he was rather cold and his touch was missing completely.

“We’re going to put these in,” Harry put his hand out showing her the weighted Ben Wa balls. “Take them.”

Y/n took the balls in her hand as her priest pushed at her low back, causing her to bend forward the slightest. She heard the snap of a cap and then felt his fingers on her entrance as he smeared lubricant over her.

The set of balls were connected with a thin rubber-like string. The first one was larger and the lightest, which aided in keeping them in place inside of her, while the other two were smaller and heavier. The cord would stick out and make pulling them out easier.

Harry took the balls from her hand and pushed her thighs further apart, “Relax.”

She felt him push the first, larger ball inside, his finger plunging into her deeply to secure it before inserting the next two one by one. It was a pretty view. He loved stuffing them inside of her. Plus it was good for her pelvic floor muscle so he felt like he was doing her a favor really. Though it was more for edging her than anything else in that moment.

“Get in,” he gestured toward the door of the cage.

She climbed in, clenching to keep the balls in place, and got to her knees as she looked up at Harry with big, pleading eyes. He knew that if she weren’t gagged she’d have somehow found her voice in that moment and begged him to spank her or stay with her. But he didn’t have time to argue with her or listen to her soft voice and whimpers as he left. The gag was for that purpose. More for himself than to punish her.

Harry locked the cage and shook his head, “Had plans to love on you but instead, this is what you deserve. Had a hard day today, pet, and I still have to go back and endure more hours away from you yet you chose to act like a bratty child so I didn’t get to come back home to my pet and hold her and kiss her like I wanted. I needed you. Maybe when I return later on you’ll be better behaved.”

Harry sat the glass of water down next to the cage for her so she could reach out and grab it if she needed it. Next to that, he placed her cell phone (in case anything went wrong and he needed to return home to unlock her cage). Her heart swelled at his kind gesture and his words. Now she truly felt awful. Felt so bad for being so mean to him when all he wanted was her love. Now she’d really gone and done it.

Harry grinned to himself as he walked out the front door and headed down the street to the church. Tonight, he would have fun with his pet.

Y/n imagined all the scenarios of what would happen. Surely she’d get a good punishment when he got back. But she’d make sure to show him her appreciation. She’d be so good for him. She’d kiss his feet and say yes, Father to everything and love on him and allow him to do whatever he wanted to her.

He could have tied her up and blindfolded her too. He could have done a lot worse but he gagged her. The sentiment was clear. You don’t want to talk? Okay, we’ll make sure you don’t make even a single peep then.

And the Ben Wa balls? Those weren’t really a punishment at all. She loved how they felt inside of her. Made her feel full and each time she moved the balls slid around inside of her. She had to clench and clamp down to keep them in but that only got her more worked up and wetter by the minute.

This time Harry was away for another three hours. Just over. She’d been lying flat on her back looking up at the ceiling and watching the shadows move along the walls when the sun changed position in the sky as Harry got home.

He entered the bedroom and she quickly scrambled to her knees and looked up at him as she gripped the bars of the cage. She was sweet again. But he already planned on doing some not-so-sweet things to her.

He unlocked the cage and helped her stand up. She pressed her thighs together to hold the balls in place as he undid her gag. Three hours was a lot for the gag to be on and when he saw the way the leather dug into her skin and caused red marks he did feel a little bad. But just a little.

“Spread your legs.” He was still being quite cold with her but at least his hands were on her this time as he gripped her thighs.

She opened her legs up and Harry groaned. She was puffy and wet. The little cord that stuck out a few inches was shiny with her arousal, “Are you all hot and bothered, pet? Did this get you worked up?” He cooed as he smoothed his hands upward on her thighs and slowly got onto his knees, looping his finger into the handle and pulling.

“Yes, Father. I was imagining it was you inside of me. Almost came once but I stopped myself because I know you wouldn’t want that.”

Harry watched as the first ball made its appearance, shiny and slippery, “That’s right. I wouldn’t have been very happy if you’d let yourself come. But I hope you know you’re not going to be allowed to come at all tonight. You were a brat to me earlier.”

She bit her lip and nodded, “I’m sorry, Father. I know I was bad. I hope you can forgive me for my behavior. I don’t deserve to come. Your punishment is just whatever you decide for me.”

When Harry had removed the slippery balls he smiled as he stood and gently smeared her arousal over her mouth before putting his pointer and middle finger over her tongue and in her mouth, “There’s my good pet. Keep showing me how well-behaved you are and tomorrow I’ll give you something special in the morning like I planned earlier.”

Harry removed his hand and turned around, leaving Y/n standing breathless and needy by the cage as he cleaned the balls. She stayed put.

When he came back into the room he put the balls back into their rightful spot and pulled out a flogger. The one with oiled leather falls. The one that hurt quite a lot. But it was Y/n’s favorite when she knew she’d been bad.

She understood quite well what Harry was doing. He’d made her sit with the Ben Wa balls for hours to edge her and now he was going to flog her and not allow her to get off at all. The orgasm denial was going to be the real punishment in this scene.

Harry handed her the flogger as he pulled the metal suspension bar and straps down from the ceiling. Her eyes widened. It’d been a while since he’d had her cuffed to the suspension bar.

He pulled at the Velcro cuffs and motioned for her to come to him, “I’m sure you thought maybe I’d spank you, but you love spankings too much.” He pulled at her wrist and lifted her arm to secure her into the first cuff and then taking the flogger from her he pulled her other arm up, securing the Velcro to her wrist, “So, no spankings for you tonight. You’ll get this instead,” he tapped the leather braided handle over his palm as he spoke.

Y/n nodded silently.

“Tell me, pet, what’s happening right now.” He needed to know she was able to verbalize what was going on. A check-in of sorts.

“You’re going to punish me for being a brat, Father.”

“That’s right. You made my hard day even harder and so I’m going to make your hard day even harder too. It’s only fair. Isn’t that right?”

She nodded, “Yes, Father.”

Harry circled her frame as she tried to keep her eyes on him while he walked around her slowly.

“And what’s this for?” He gently brushed the falls over her shoulders, letting them slide down over her breasts.

“To flog me. Because I’ve been bad.”

“Yes. But why this one? We’ve got some lovely soft ones I could use. The rabbit one you love to play with. Why this one?”

“To mark me. To show me how I’ve sinned. The stripes are for the servant who knew their master’s will but did not get ready or act according to his wishes,” she quoted a partial verse from Luke in the Bible before continuing, “and so I will receive a lashing.”

Harry smiled, “Good. Smart girl. That’s exactly right. Are you ready to be made righteous again?”

“Yes, Father. Please. Make me righteous.”

The first thud over her back bit into her soft skin and stung as expected. She didn’t whimper nor make a peep. She was ready for the bite.

The second one had her hurling forward a few inches and sucking in a sharp breath.

But the third had a gasp falling from her mouth and her eyes squeezing shut at the pain.

“Blows that wound cleanse away evil; strokes make clean the innermost parts.” Harry quoted a passage in Proverbs as he issued the fourth strike.

She bit down, clamping her teeth together, and squeaked as her body swung forward.

He watched the red marks on her skin grow a deeper hue and begin to welt as he continued, “I will punish their transgression with the rod and their iniquity with stripes,” he spoke calmly as he landed the flogger down over her back again. The fifth hit.

The first tear rolled down her cheek as she tried to stay composed. The smarting sting all over her back was beginning to expand and wrap around to her ribs slowly as he brought the oiled leather falls over her back again. She yelped.

“This is for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, pet. You’re doing well. I’m proud. Only four more.”

She sobbed at his praise and nodded with her lips trembling. Her fists were clenched together tight as she braced herself for number 7.

“Repeat after me,” his lips pressed onto the top of her shoulder before he got back into position behind her, “I am but a sinner seeking forgiveness.”

She opened her mouth just as he applied strike number 7 and she whimpered as she swayed forward and panted her words, “I am but a sinner seeking forgiveness.”

“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper,” he draped the flogger over her back softly before bringing it down hard over her back for the 8th hit.

“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper,” she spoke weakly as the pain was immense and her shoulders were beginning to ache from the way she was putting all her weight onto them.

“But he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.” Another blow to her back as she wobbled and cried out at the ninth.

“Uh…” her breath shuddered as tried to remember the words. She knew he was quoting Proverbs but suddenly the words escaped her as her mind began to stretch thin into paper and airy like dandelion seeds, bending slowly into her submissive state, “I’m sorry. I forgot, Father. I need help.”

Harry dropped the flogger to the ground as he noted her voice was tiny and that her composure had been lost. He took her wrists from the Velcro suspension bar and let her fall into his arms, “That’s enough then. You’ve done well.”

He brought her to sit on the bed next to him and lifted the glass of water up to her lips to make her drink. Her eyes were full of tears as she looked at him sweetly and gulped down a drink.

“There you go. Are you okay, pet?” He softly brushed her hair from her face and spoke quietly to see where she was.

“I’m okay, Father. I just forgot the verse you said and I couldn’t repeat it. I’m sorry. You can keep going. Only one more.”

Harry shook his head, “No that’s enough for now. I bet you’ve learned your lesson.”

Y/n whined and shook her head, “No. I need more. I was so bad. Please.”

She sunk down to the floor and put her hands on his knees and slid her palms up his brushed wool pants to the tops of his thighs, “Please.” Her rounded eyes begged him for more.

“What do you want then? Hmm? What do you think is appropriate?” He tilted her face up as he tenderly grasped her chin.

“I want you to come. I need you to or I don’t feel like I deserve your forgiveness.”

“Okay. And how should I come? What should we do to make that happen?” He brushed her wet lips and felt his heart go wild in his chest. He knew what she’d ask for. What she’d beg for. Something that she loved that was never a punishment.

“Please, have my throat and my mouth. I beg you. Choke me with your cock and come wherever you want. I’m yours to use however you please.”

Harry smiled and pushed his thumb into her mouth, “This mouth? Want me to fuck it? Gag you with my come? Is that what you want?”

She nodded, “Yes, Father, please.” Her words were mumbled over his thumb that he still had pushed into her mouth.

“Good girl,” he stood up. “Undo my pants.”

Y/n lifted her fingers to his button and then pulled at his zipper before yanking the material down and then bringing his cock out of his boxer briefs. He was already angrily hard.

“It’s so yummy, Father. My mouth is watering,” she whispered as she inspected him. His cock was right in front of her face, tempting her to taste but she would wait until he gave her permission.

Harry chuckled and wiped the drool from the edge of her mouth, “Your mouth is watering, pet. Well, then. Get to it.”

She immediately jutted her tongue out and began licking him up and down as she kept her eyes on him. This was the easy and soft part. The moments before she sucked him into her mouth and he began to fuck her face.

Harry watched his pet swipe her wet tongue over his shaft and peck warm kisses along his soft skin. A beautiful picture he wished he could have framed and hung up in his living room. He was sure that his parish would not approve.

When she finally popped his tip into her mouth and sucked he grasped her hair and sunk himself into the hilt and groaned.

Harry had been worked up since that morning when he left her. He wouldn’t last long but he would make it good, for both of them.

He began to rock his hips into her as he held the back of her head to keep her in place. She grasped onto his thighs and gagged every time his smooth tip bent down her throat.

“Keep your eyes on me, pet. Want to watch those tears fill up in your eyes.”

She did her best. It was hard to keep them open the way she knew he wanted. His cock was wide and long and every time she gagged and gurgled over him she was tempted to smush her eyelids closed. But she was determined to be the best girl she could be for him so she kept her eyes on his, even though her sight was blurred from the moisture beginning to fill in her vision.

“Yes… my sweet pet. Loves getting her throat fucked. Just made for sucking cock, aren’t you?”

Y/n hummed around him in response as he pulled out before thrusting back in, his cock curving down her throat and she heaved in reflex to the obstruction hitting her tonsils.

“Choking darling?” Harry spoke amusedly as she drooled and forced her eyes to stay open.

He could feel her nails digging into his skin tightly. If she needed air she’d let him know so he continued getting himself off in her mouth. A low groan fell from his lips as he used the hair he had carded between his fingers to move her over him as he pleased, pressing her so far down her nose grazed the skin and hair at his base.

And he was quite pleased. Even when he was holding her down on him and she was coughing and gurgling, she was still looking upward into his eyes with her bleary ones.

Her face was wet and her mouth was stretched out, puffy pink lips wrapped around his dense cock. He smiled down at her and pulled her off of him so she could catch her breath. His own chest rose and fell rapidly as he was right on the edge of his own orgasm.

“Taking me so well,” he gently wiped his thumb over her temple, “I think it’s time for your reward. What do you think?”

She nodded quickly, her fingers still pinching into his skin in anticipation of what was to come, “Need it. Please, Father.” Her voice was a bit scratchy as she spoke but he knew she’d want it.

With his fingers still in her hair he moved his other hand down to her throat, wrapping his palm around the collar as he pushed her down over his shaft and then held her in place as he began to fuck into her throat in heavy thrusts that had her wincing and swallowing around his tip with each punitive glide.

His thighs began to shake and his mumbled words and groans grew louder, “Fuck baby, fuck… Open up for me… Just like that…” He looked down at her wet, hot little face as he held her still for his cock.

He choked out a gasp as he began to come, stilling his harsh thrusts and burying himself in beyond her soft palate and uvula. His cock twitched and throbbed as she swallowed him down like the good girl she always was for him once he got her on her knees before him this way.

He watched her blink up at him with doe eyes as he pulled himself out. She gasped and heaved as saliva spilled out of her mouth and down her chin.

Harry reached for her under her arms to help her stand and gently turned her to look at her back, making sure she was still okay.

“Time to get you cleaned up, pet. Then we’ll make dinner and watch something on TV together. How’s that sound?”

Nodding her head she clung to him as he brought her into the bathroom to wipe her back with a rag and help her clean up between her legs. He had her face the mirror as he stood behind her and began to dab the cool rag onto her skin where the raised flesh was bright pink and hot under his hand.

She looked at him through the reflection of the mirror, “Thank you, Father.

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gummimn · 8 months ago

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Chicago Road-trip Diary

{an old story it posted; the site seems to be offline, so it is reposting here} By gummimn.

Part 1: introductions and prologue.

I was really looking forward to the coming weekend. LatexIL and I had been chatting for quite some time about the chance of getting together for a weekend of some serious play. I had taken extra days off, so we’d have all day Friday, Saturday and Sunday to play; I didn’t have to leave until Monday afternoon. I still got hard just thinking about his profile entry.

“Latex, rubber, leather bondage: intense inescapable, short or long term. Can top, SM optional. Have equipment including sleepsacks, hoods and gags, lots of restraints, can have multiple guests in playroom at once. I like to travel too. Looking for hot safe bondage players who want it tight, inescapable, with headgear controlling sight, sound, speech and air…ESPECIALLY in head to toe latex/rubber. All holes plugged, tubed, and cath’d. Layers: leather over rubber; sacks over leather; sucked down in rac. Hobbies: rubber, catsuits, sleepsacks, straitjackets, vacrac, hoods, gags, and tight, effective restraints. Keeping bottoms tied up for as long as they like it; stored out of sight, out of mind. Favorite Quote: Maybe you need another layer of rubber and you definitely need those straps tightened up…”

Even after 12 years together, Peter still didn’t get the whole bondage/rubber/sense-dep SM scene. He did his fisting and watersports, played with guys who wanted bears, and loved me. Me? I did WS as well, but man, I wanted my rubber too. Waders, suits, sheaths front and back, hoods, gags, gasmask hoods, industrial gloves and rubber work boots; my rubber English riding boots to go with the Vex Chicago cop shirt and tight cod-piece jeans; the rubber BDU from Invincible; did I mention my home-made 1piece? It was a cross-country ski suit until I got my pervy hands and 3 quarts of liquid latex on it. Add some bondage: straitjackets, ropes, chains, restraints, collars, frames, racks, sacks, locks-and I’d be a happy pig. Leather? Oh hell yeah! I never got on my rocket without full gear: suit, boots, gloves and helmet…such a terrible thing; a gear pig required by his lover to wear gear just to go riding. Sucks to be me! My first piece of leather-a biker-hippie approved biker jacket; my knee-high Red Wing loggers-black laces for formal, white for play; leather jeans and cargoes; hoods, restraints-give me my Mr. S. 4 buckles any day; padded fist mitts; padded posture collar (Thanks again Mr. S!); padded sense-dep hood, the only connection to the outside world the grommet at my mouth. Gags-can I count the ways I like to be gagged? Yes, I can. Floggers and crops; pummeling and beating; yeah, I can take the pain, and make it a ticket to that place only a Dom and his sub can go when they’re in a scene: time stops, space expands, 2 souls commune without a spoken word-nirvana in a dungeon with pain and pleasure the mantra that lets them into the garden.

Peter doesn’t get it, but he doesn’t get in the way. One of the first “big talks” we had before living together had settled that. We discussed all the mundane things that will kill a relationship when times get tough. Times always get tough. One of you gets sick, or fired; or you see someone really hot who wants you too; the weather gets too hot or too cold. Crap happens. You work out the little details beforehand, you can get through them. So we talked. Monogamy got talked over as well: go out, have a good time, remember your heart stays at home, don’t bring home diseases. It had worked for 12 years; he had his kink or two, I had my laundry list of pervs; we shared each other and our hearts and our home.

So, I was off to a long weekend in Chicago. I’d shipped some gear ahead, but not much. LatexIL assured me that he had everything that was needed, and I wasn’t going out to the bars. So I sent on my favorite waders and boots, my favorite gags and the posture collar. The only gear in my saddlebags was a rainsuit-never leave home without it; my meds and toilet kit; and bottles of Boost for the trip down. He’d asked, and I’d readily agreed, to a liquid diet starting a couple of days before hand. No need to make a trip to interrupt the scene; the external cath would take care of the rest.

Peter and I had talked over breakfast; his bowl of cereal, my bottle of Boost. We confirmed I’d call when I got there and when I left Monday. He made sure once again that he had LatexIL’s phone and address. We clarified once again the secret code I’d use if I thought the scene was bad and I needed out. Peter can be a pain in the ass when it comes to crap like that. He’s mister “plan everything out, double check the plans, confirm the details, annoy the partner with more plans and details.” I’m a bit more impetuous and spontaneous, mister “hey, that sounds like fun! Let’s go!” He was off to work; I was off to get ready.

First on the list were a trim, then shower and douche. I got out the trimmer, and worked it over my head once again. The smallest guard left only bristly fuzz that felt soooo good to the touch. Latex had sent a liquid soap for me to use; it had an intense chemical scent, but it left my body as smooth and clean as a baby’s behind. The enema was quick; three days of liquids saw to that. I rinsed off the hair from the trim, soaped up and rinsed down. Brushed, flossed, dried off, time to get dressed.

Now was the make it or break it moment. LatexIL had sent me a really cool locking gag and a custom 1-piece suit. The gag was some sort of carbon-fiber head harness with a tube to connect to my CamelBack, and another to use as a straw for Boost on the trip down. Once I locked it over the suit, I had only one way out-I had to see Latex for the key. I took the suit, and admired it once again. Sheaths front and rear; socks with toes, gloves with grippy marks on the fingers, an attached hood the only way in; stretch the mouth wide, let it swallow me whole. It was fairly thick, but still thin enough to flex with me so I wouldn’t get fatigued on the ride. It had been cut like a SlickSuit so it would conform to my every curve. It would slide up crack of my ass so the sleeve behind could slide in with the plug I was going to wear, and stretch snug across my broad shoulders while hugging my small, slim waist. It would be my skin for the weekend, if I didn’t bug out and call the whole thing off.

I got out the lube, opened the suit, and started to pour it in. I started at the feet and worked it into the toes. Up the legs, into the crotch and over the sheaths hanging inside. Starting at the fingers, I lubed up the sleeves, then across the chest. I applied a very thin film to the back of my neck, and my lower face. I wanted the hood to slide on comfortably, but I didn’t want lube in my eyes when I started to sweat under my leathers. Now it was time to slide it on. Cold at first, it quickly warmed. My toes settled in their homes, and I slid it up my legs to my crotch. I worked my dick and nut into the sack and sheath, and then used the plug to seat the sheath in my ass. That old familiar feeling began to settle in-that horny tingle that started out on the skin and worked its way into my bones and took over my brain as I felt the rubber grip my legs and transform my skin. I pulled it up my chest, and worked my hands down the sleeves until they popped into the gloves. For a moment, I had to stop and stroke. Looking at myself in the mirror, I began to grope myself. The squeak of rubber on rubber tuned my senses to the feel of the latex as it became my skin; the warming rubber gave off that heady scent of latex and sweat and my own rubber body. I was lost in the smell and the sound and the sensation. It took all my strength to pull myself back from the edge; that would have to wait until LatexIL let me go over. I pulled the hood over my head, and smoothed the eyes and mouth into place. All that remained was the gag and the last of my freedom.

I looked at the rubberman staring out from the mirror. The light caught every curve and ripple and nook and cranny of my body under its shiny new skin. I felt up my cock, worked my nipples, pushed on the plug, pulled my nut. I could still call it off, jack off, and go for a ride. Or I could put the mouth-guard with its tubes onto my teeth, pull the strap around, and place the lock. I stood there for a long time, stroking my dick, holding the head harness. Finally, I took a deep breath and pushed the guard into my mouth. I worked my tongue around to make sure the tubes on the inside were properly seated between my back molars so I could work the bite valves for the tube that would be my drinking straw and the CamelBack connection. Looking myself in the face in the mirror, my blue eyes the only evidence of a human being within the latex man staring back at me, I pulled the straps to the back of my head…and closed the lock. Now I was in for it-he had the key and my only way out.

I stood there a while longer, worried and afraid about what I had gotten myself into; more horny and lust-demented than I had been in too long a time. My misgivings were too late now. I took one last stroke of my dick with a strong tug on my nut, and left the bathroom.

I went to the bedroom, sat down, and slipped prolyprop socks over my feet and UnderArmor glove liners over my hands. A thin silk balaclava was next; I made sure it rested on my chin so the tubes from the gag were out for use. I lifted the CoolMax liner off the bed. It was my summer salvation; it kept me dry enough in the heat I could wear my leathers in the worst of July and August. It gave my body a shield against the leathers, and kept my leathers clean and free of my sweat. The lightning bolt graphics swirling over the bodysuit gave me a shiver of power and desire as I looked it over, and took in its sweet scent. I slid into the open chest, pushed my feet down the legs, my hands through the sleeves tucked the balaclava under the neck and zipped it shut. My latex skin was now armored against the leathers to come.

It had been a sacrifice, but I now had the racing suit of my gear pig wet dreams. The A-stars SX-1. Asymmetrical chest zips, molded poly-therm armor melded onto the knees, elbows, and shoulders. The same molded poly-therm cast into an armored hump down my back to protect me from whiplash if I crashed and to guide the wind over me as I lay on top of my Daytona. A vivid sky blue, white accents, black woven stretch Kevlar in the crotch and down the arms, perfed almost like mesh, memory foam armor across my chest and abs and lower back. It looked hot, the brilliant blue contrasting with the bright sunshine yellow of the bike, meeting on my A-Star Super Tech boots of blue smashing against yellow fading to white at the toe of my boots. Next was my Arai-a white star on a blue field with gold trim. I slid the Foggy Respro over my rubber face without snagging it, made sure the tubes from the gag hung free, and cinched it snug. I reached inside my suit, grabbed the hose from my hydration pack and hooked it up to the left tube so I could drink as I rode. Last, but not least, my Icon Ti-Maxx longs: blue with bling; gold plated titanium on blue gloves, gray palms with gold studs on the heel of my palm, the wrist strap snugged, the gauntlet straps firmly closed together.

I took another look in the full-length mirror on the closet door. Under the leathers, my dick stretched further up my abs. Blue, gold, white and yellow-from head to toe; armor over my shoulders, across my elbows and down my forearms; more armor over my knees and down my shins; the armored aero-hump running down my spine; it was worth every bit of overtime. The mere sight of my skin-tight leathers alone would have gotten me off in a heartbeat if I weren’t under orders to wait. My wallet was safely under the seat, the saddlebags were packed and strapped, it was time for take-off. Sense-dep breath control head-trips, utter immobility and complete helplessness waited 7 hours away. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed my keys and locked the door behind me. In the garage, I threw my leg over and started the motor. The bike safely walked out of the garage, I did the door remote and tucked it in a saddlebag pocket. I closed the golden-blue mirrored shield, slipped it into vent-lock, and launched my rocket.

Part 2: my trip and arrival

I had gotten a semi-early start. Early enough to get there before rush hour in Chicagoland, late enough to be after the morning rush here in Minneapolis. I’d only have to stop for relief and Boost breaks, so I wasn’t worried about the time. Late May can still be a roll of the dice for weather. It can be the perfect warmth all day, and still drop to freezing after sundown. You can start out dry, and end up soaking wet. Lady Latex favored the bold. It was a perfect temp to be riding skinned in rubber and encased in armored leather. Just warm enough that a layer of sweat let the latex slide over my skin without binding or chafing, no more, no less. I took the freeway just long enough to get out of town, then took my exit, and got on the 2-lane. More fun, less dangerous than the interstate, it was my preferred way to make long rides. After all, you get twisties on 2-lane, not the interstate, and I do love to put a knee down; the sound, the feel of my puck skimming asphalt gets me almost as hard as the feel of rope wrapping around my body.

I felt every bump in the road through my plug. Each crack and ripple was transmitted from the plug to my prostate, transferred to my dick, and buzzed into my brain. Once I was safely alone, away from stoplights and stop signs, crosswalks and city speed zones, I knew I wouldn’t have to shift often, so I got into my cruising position. I lay down on the tank and tucked my boots up against the passenger pegs. To corner, I would simply shift to one side or the other; to shift, I would slip my left food down to the gear shift long enough to click it, then lift it back to the rear peg. My cock and nut and taint melted into the seat sending the motor’s hum directly to my heads, both of them. The memory foam padding on my chest absorbed bumps from the road, protecting me and allowing me to breath. The rocket merged with its pilot, the two became one, and the miles slid by.

It’s strange when you’re out on a bike. Even though a car’s air-filter doesn’t really filter out all the aromas from the air coming in, there is an exponential difference when riding. You can taste each scent as it comes: the cows in the pasture, the cottonwoods by the stream, the lilacs by the farmhouse. You see it, you smell it, you taste it all in the same instant. Combine that with the hum from the motor, the buzz from the tires, and the utter bliss of being out on your own magic carpet, and you can go into sensory overload. It’s like being high without the down or the expense of weed. It’s like being born again each and every second, the whole of your being a clean slate every moment. No past, no future, only now, forever and ever amen and amen. Sometimes you just have to stop, get off the rocket, and shake your head to clear out the joy and release the beauty. Then it’s back on the magic carpet and off to the horizon again. Four times I stopped; twice to fuel my Daytona, twice more to fuel the pilot as well. Before I knew it, I was on the outskirts of Chicagoland. Taking the two-lane meant I hadn’t had to worry about tolls, but it also meant I had to heed the directions from my Garmin to twist my way into the city. Even so, it was going to be perfectly timed. I’d arrive just after LatexIL got home, so he’d be there to open his garage and I could ride right in.

After that, my freedom so real and so perfect while on two wheels would be over. My freedom freely given and utterly taken would be transformed into complete slavery in total bondage. In my servitude, I would achieve a new bliss, a different joy, a deeper beauty. I could not wait to be utterly confined and perfectly helpless. The thought of the total freedom of the ride taken to become the utter submission of my captor’s bondage made me so hard and horny I could barely focus on the road ahead.

Finally, I arrived at the address I’d programmed into my digital map. As I rolled up to the brownstone, I saw the tuck-under garage left open for my entry. I settled my rocket into the berth gently; I don’t think any of the neighbors noticed. To them I was just another sport bike rider parking my toy for the night. I stood up stiffly, and stretched, then stood off my bike. The door from the garage to the house stood open, as he said it would be. I unstrapped the saddlebags, threw them over my shoulder, and entered, closing the door and my freedom behind me.

Part 3: the scene begins.

As I shut the door, I heard a voice behind me.

“Hello blue.”

The same deep voice I’d heard so often on our Skype chats, but wrong; it’s Bryce, not blue. Suddenly, my world shifted as my mind spun. Vertigo like from a harsh fever swept through me; even as I stepped away from the door, my body came to a complete stop. I swear, for a moment, I couldn’t even breathe as every muscle in my body froze. I tried to turn to face him; my chest didn’t shift an inch. I tried to turn my head; I stared straight ahead at the closed door. I tried to lift my hand to raise my face-shield; it hung stiffly at my side. I gave one last effort to try and see him in the corner of my sight; my eyes were fixed, looking at the peephole in the door. Even my dick froze in mid-twitch! Something inside my mind had hijacked my body; I was more subdued than I had ever been in any amount of rope, restraints or chains. My mind raced, What the fuck!? What just happened? What’s with that word? Why has it paralyzed me?

Minutes passed while I struggled to move any muscle in my body. Nothing shifted the least bit. Sweat broke out over the whole of my skin as I panicked. The only motion I had was my breathing; as the vertigo swept past, it had returned. Now I was sucking air like I’d run the quarter mile as I went into full flight mode. I should’ve been tearing out the door and onto the street, the way my mind was racing. Instead I was a leather and latex statue, an armored mannequin of flesh and bone. Finally, I heard him step up behind me.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to turn around and say hello?”

That same deep sexy voice, now laced with sarcasm and menace.

“Oh wait, that’s right, you can’t. I’ve said the magic word.”

Fuck, the vertigo, the frozen breath, the swirling in my mind, only stronger and deeper somehow.

“Blue, turn around and face the mirror.”

Before, I had struggled with all my might to turn and face him; now I willed every muscle, every fiber, every bone in my body to stay where I was. As paralyzed as my body was before, now it moved on its own; against my will, I turned around. Looking across the entryway, a small mudroom and laundry, there was a mirror on the far wall. Like I was on a leash, my body stepped forward, crossed the 4 paces to reach the mirror, and came to a complete stop. Not like I normally would stop, you know, slowing down as I approached, then bringing my rear foot forward to rest beside the front. No, my body strode across the room and STOPPED; I almost pitched forward into the wall it was so abrupt. If I had been scared before, this display nearly shut me down with terror.

As I came back to my body, my thoughts crashed around my skull, “What the Hell? What is in that word? Why can it move me, when I can’t move myself?”

He had followed me across the room. I could see him beside me as I stared straight ahead into the mirror. Even the normal movement of my eyes, back and forth, up and down, was frozen. I could only look straight ahead, eyes perfectly level, no left or right. If he had stepped even one step to the side, I would not be able to see him, because he would be out of my direct line of sight.

“Blue, examine your reflection in the mirror. Enable sub-routine Bryce to access optical sensors without security filter 421. Apply. Bryce, can you see everything?”

Damn, that voice of his; so strong, so commanding over Skype, was beyond strong, beyond commanding when in the same room. Even as I relaxed into his voice as I had so many times before, my mind swirled again, and my vision shifted. I stared; my breath caught in my throat. I could see everything.

“What the Fuck? There’s a padlock through the chinch rings on my chinstrap; where did it come from? When had it been put there? What the hell? Why is there zip ties cinched from my suit’s zipper pulls to the D-rings on my collar? What the Fuckity Fuck is a collar doing around my neck? What the Fuck is it made of? It looks like carbon fiber! Fuckity fuckity fuck fuck! There’s another one of those freaky zip-ties around each wrist, strapping my gloves to my arms! My Boots! There’s some sort of carbon fiber strap wrapped around the top of my boots! From the top of my instep to the top of the wedge-shaped shin-guard, there’s a fucking carbon fiber strap snugged around my boots! What the hell is going on here? Why am I locked into my leathers? Who did this to me? When!?!? What is in that word!? Why can’t I do anything unless he says blue!?”

I screamed-but it was only in my head; not a sound came out of my throat.

My eyes flickered back up from my boots to look at the face of the man beside me. The open inviting smile I had seen on cam was now a malevolent grin. He was obviously getting off on my terror and confusion. He was looking at me in the mirror as I was looking at him. Waiting for me to see everything there was to see in my reflection.

“Do you like what you see, Bryce?” His deep, strong voice could make my breath stop in my throat, even in my stark raving terror. Even in my stark raving terror, I did like what I saw. The vision in the mirror, a crotch-rocketeer locked in his leathers, gloves, boots and helmet, had me hard. If I was a leaker, I’d have been dripping; but I’m not. Instead, my dick tried to crawl up out of the codpiece and into my throat. I was trembling now not in fear, but in stark raving horniness. Carbon fiber straps shone like gloss black paint over my boot tops. Wide carbon fiber straps cinched my gloves to my arms, gloss black over matte blue and gray and shiny gold. A carbon fiber collar gleamed between the collar-less top of my racing suit and the bottom edge of my helmet. The shiny chrome of the D-rings were reflected on the collar, and made the strap connecting the suit zip to the D-ring seem like a glossy ribbon of black light. There were 2 tubes hanging from under my helmet; I could feel something in my nose, I realized it must be the tubes. I could see the top of a rubber suit rising from my leathers; I was now aware it continued as a hood. I was completely sealed in rubber, from head to toe. There was a tube sticking out from the top of my leathers that disappeared into my helmet; I could feel it was attached to the gag in my mouth, and it was leaking. I could feel a catheter in my dick; that must be what’s leaking. There was a MONSTER plug in my ass; I estimated at least a 3-inch diameter. Everything his profile promised had been delivered. Every opening was tubed, cath’d, gagged and plugged. I was so horny, so hard, so turned on, I was vibrating.

As I came back to earth, I wondered what had gone through people’s mind as they had seen me at the gas station. It was very obvious to anyone who looked that my suit was locked on me. The thought that I had ridden all the way to Chicago from Minneapolis in obvious bondage for everyone to see sent my mind into another horny tailspin and made my dick twitch. At least that muscle could now move on its own!

As my mind cleared, my eyes bore into the reflection of his. Not that he could see mine through the mirrored visor. But still, they did. The horniness had given way to terror had given way to rage.

“What the fuck have you done to me? Why can’t I move? When did I get locked in my gear? Who locked me up? What the HELL is going on? What’s in the word blue that it controls everything I do?”

All what I would have shouted, loud enough to crack the mirror in front of me... If I could have spoken... but there was that gag...

“You must be a bit confused.” “A Bit!?” “Would you like to know what happened?” “HELL yeah, I want to know what happened!” “Blue…Remember this morning.”

If my body hadn’t been stone cold paralyzed, I’d have collapsed to the floor as another wave of vertigo swept my mind. I remembered this morning; oh Hell, did I ever remember this morning.

Next: “Memories Light the Corners of My Mind….”

#malebots.com #mind-control #brainwashing #unaware #amnesia #racing leathers #Daytona 650 #trigger word

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bulkyphrase · 6 months ago

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Fluffy Steve Fest Rec List Day 5 - Bedroom

It's @fluffystevefest day 5! The theme for Friday is Bedroom, and after a short break from following the themes and prompts, this list is back on track!

These are a few of my favorite soft, bedroom activity-related fics.

Ground Me by @vassalady (Romanogers, Mature, 1,461 words)

Summary: When Steve needs to let go, he goes to Natasha, who takes care of him.

You’re My Medicine by @blossomsinthemist (Stony, Explicit, 11,691 words)

Summary: It was just that Steve liked harder kinks, and it seemed like the kind of thing that would appeal to the intense sensation play side of him, always pushing himself and looking for something to send him flying higher. It wasn’t the same as a flogger stinging over his back, but it was more intimate, more invasive, Tony figured—the same intensity, but in a totally different way, and maybe … gentler, softer. Something it would be easier for Tony to give him the way he wanted it, even the way he liked it. Written for Day Fifteen of Kinktober: Sounding.

The Ice in Windless Cold by Isagel (@isagelc) (OT6, Explicit, 11,883 words)

Summary: "I dream about the ice," Steve says. "About being in the ice."

Amenity by AccursedSpatula (Thundershield, Explicit, 3,891 words)

Summary: "If you truly do not desire this, then I shall stop. But otherwise, I have no qualms about offering you a bit of...comfort."

All Is Good That Is Desired by archwrites (Arch) (James "Bucky" Barnes/Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Explicit, 12,920 words)

Summary: Steve gets drugged to the gills, and Peggy and Bucky have to deal with the fallout. Note: dubcon of the sex pollen variety, though it’s as consensual as sex pollen can get.

The To-Do List by @ipoiledi (Romanogers, Explicit, 4,088 words)

Summary: “Miss me?” “Yeah, actually.” Steve’s chest gets an inflating, happy feeling. “Oh,” he says, dumbly. “Me too. You want some coffee?” “How about liquor?” “It’s noon.” “No-o, don’t pull the Captain America face on me,” she says, grinning. “I know you. Come on.” “Yeah, what the hell. Fire up something trashy on Netflix.”

#steve rogers #marvel fic rec #fluffystevefest

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staceymcgillicuddy · 1 year ago

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Sunday Summary

Forgot to do one of these last week, but I had family in town, and I've mostly just been editing. So, two for the price of one!

(In other news, a friend had a two-handed heavy flogger out last night and I let him hit me with it to see what it felt like and now I'll never have back problems again.)

🦉 Hellcheer Halloween - 1,372

This one is my midwest gothic take on the succubus/Lilith mythology, and it's shorter than I thought it would be but I'm happy-ish with how it turned out. I'm posting it on Halloween instead of the final Kinktober prompt, so I'm still technically completing Kinktober, just with a second story. Still need to edit, but that's next week's problem!

🚛 to get my soul known again - 1,026

All edits on chapter 31, which is posting tomorrow. My commitment for early November is to finish writing this so I can stop having anxiety about the fact that I haven't technically finished the last few chapters. I don't want it to end! (Do I have ideas for 3-4 one-shots in that universe that I may or may not write eventually? Yes, I do.)

😈 kinktober - 1,753

All edits, all the time. A few more "this better not awaken anything in me" moments, especially day 30, which may have awakened something in ME.

📚 college/townie - 1,103

Done with edits on this bad boy! Posting it next Friday for Hellcheer Week's "What-If" slot. Chapter one is over 10k, and I get the sense this is going to be one of those "long chapters, infrequent but satisfying" fics. I really love this version of them, though. Eddie's dad didn't go to prison, so he's had Al's influence in his life way more than Wayne, while Chrissy has had some... as-yet-unknown issues. I think the title is going to be a dorky D&D pun but I haven't 100% decided yet.

Grand Total = 5254

That checks out, considering almost all I've been doing is editing. I've probably cut as much from each fic as I added to it, but I only count my gainzzzzz. Looking forward to getting back to writing, though!

#sunday summary #writing #personal #bsc diaries

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kasperl-ruprecht · 2 years ago

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#Flogger Friday #Mikoyan Y Gurevich #MiG-23 #Flogger #Aviation #Engrish

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sootyships · 1 year ago

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youtube

Translation: Elena Koponen-Baikie & Vilma Jää

LYRICS IN ENGLISH (synced English subs available as well)

Miina was a wild wee witch

Miina, she spread spells and

Miina men forever bewitched

mostly on Mondays

or Tuesdays, Thursdays

Miina made numerous nightmares

Miina directed Demons

(Miina) into mean men

every Friday,

or Tuesday, Thursday

Miina bewitches, bewitches, Miina,

bewitches, Miina, bewitches, Miina

when Miina bewitches, bewitches, Miina,

bewitches, Miina, bewitches, Miina

Demon, visit when demanded

Avenge when commanded

and vex the violator

every molester

each wife-beater

Demon, visit when demanded

Avenge when commanded

and worry the wrongdoer,

the flogger of females,

the thresher of thighs

Miina did magic and tricks

Miina tied shirts on sticks

Miina, naked on a river rock,

��til the sun went down,

she swore and raged

Miina with her terrible temper

Miina, she decreed death

Miina fed the soil of death

to all attackers

and deranged them

Miina bewitches, bewitches, Miina,

bewitches, Miina, bewitches, Miina

when Miina bewitches, bewitches, Miina,

bewitches, Miina, bewitches, Miina

Demon, visit when demanded

Avenge when commanded

and vex the violator

every molester

each wife-beater

Demon, visit when demanded

Avenge when commanded

and worry the wrongdoer,

the flogger of females,

the thresher of thighs

Yeah, she was scurrilous

Yeah, always furious

Yeah, she either avenged or chastised,

punished, possessed, fiercely cursed

Demon, visit when demanded

Avenge when commanded

and vex the violator

every molester

each wife-beater

Demon, visit when demanded

Avenge when commanded

and worry the wrongdoer,

the flogger of females,

the thresher of thighs

#meanwhile in finland #also she's karelian #Youtube

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source6 · 1 year ago

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I’m currently involved in a Etsy wide “Pre Black Friday” sale. 25% off, it’s the only time of year I do that. Prices listed are sale prices only, domestic shipping is free too.

Cat Of Nine Tails in video - $62.50

Long XXL Black Flogger - $62.25

Leather Sjambok - $59.25

Dungeon Whip - $59.25

Dragon Tails - $66.00

Rainbow Flogger - $62.25

Snake Print Leather Flogger - $66.00

Bull Whips - $62.25

Small Suede Floggers - $37.50

Crops - $42-$54

Paddles - $29-41

Shop link 👇

http://bythedevilshand.etsy.com

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sxslave4all · 10 months ago

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owner making me share another day of life replay age 18 and over only. Sexual. Consensual (and all of it enjoyed to the max) sex play. 🩵��️‍🔥

So horny wet and suddenly sex is 24/7 on my mind. Or punishments as those are mmmmm. I’ve got a clip on my clit for as I clean I’ll still be able to keep wet, horny, not cum, hurt my clit with every step. ❤️‍🔥

🤤🤤 hurts so good bad lol. Been hours with it on and constant yanks, having to grind everything with a corner then clean that room before the next etc. grinding the way I’m ordered to ???? With a clip??? On top of the sheer ouch just stepping or breathing at this point sends pain waves everywhere—deliciously awful. These shorts he gave me 🤦🏼‍♀️. So tight the whole clip had to yank and twist my poor clit just to get them on-it’s half in me while gripping my clit extremely tightly so double fun to grind. 😔😔. And he comes room to room to make sure I am grinding everything that I can in every room 🤤😩🤯. Then if he doesn’t like think I’m being harsh enough he comes and pushes me into the item with all his strength and woah. I had to grind the kitchen counter corner that is sharp and hard just to bump into. Imagine that, a workout freak who’s mad so his might on my shoulders pushing me down on it, on top of too tight shorts and a clip. Ouchhhh. But I’m only useful if he’s enjoying it and it’s his body - or everyone’s but mine as he says 🤷🏼‍♀️. Plus I’m not allowed shirts in the house period. So he keeps making them bounce the weighted clamps on my nips via a nice swift hard no warning smack of his belt. I’m surprised he gave this 15 min break-but he had to go fuck some woman so he let me be until he calls for me to lick her clean after swallowing his cum for my breakfast. Eating her out with this on is going to ravage especially since he said he’d flog it while I clean her cunt 😅😅😫😫. At least it’s Friday. Lol.

Phew house cleaning done today unless he orders me to do more later. But, He removed that clip after 40 whacks of the flogger with it on (breakfast was delicious as always mmm still wet over being degraded how crazy. Lol)and I wanted it back it hurt less 🤣🤣🤣 thrn the pain became bliss until the wand found my clit. Edged me 7 damn times on my beaten cunt. 😔. AND I was sooooo close the last one. Ahh fond memories of cumming 😔.

To be continued since he wants me to type lunch details 🤤🤤🤤🩵. He loves sharing my degradation with everyone 🩵🩵🖤🖤

#use me however you want #lesbian sex #free use fantasy #cnc sub #free use slvt #bd/sm rope #roped girl #girls kissing #ropeplay #dumb wh0re #owned sub #Submissivec**t

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thedungeonstore · 11 months ago

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Coming this weekend!

Friday and Saturday, you'll find us at Baltimore Playhouse. Check out our table of toys for Kinky Karaoke on Friday, and on Saturday night, we'll be there for the CTRL+ALT+Kink Techno Erotic. Saturday, Miss Dion will do a stun gun demo, Sage will be doing needleplay, Article XIX will be doing violet wands, Murci will be doing impact demos and there's bootblacking by alt-sara. Come join in the fun!!! RSVP for Kinky Karaoke at https://fetlife.com/events/1439919 and find more about CTRL+ALT+KINK at https://fetlife.com/events/1431603 (and find our bling chain flogger for violet wand and sensation play at https://thedungeonstore.com/products/bling-chain-flogger )

#the dungeon store #bd/sm community #bd/sm education #bd/sm events #bd/sm lifestyle #violet wand #Baltimore Playhouse

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bitchboisposts · 11 days ago

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Enslaved with My Mistress’s Sub Part One

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I’m starting writing some erotic fiction from a beta sub male prospective. If any alpha female can give me any suggestions, message me through my inbox or dm.

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I arrived at the home of Mistress Ava on a Friday night. Mistress Ava pop was 46 years old, 5’10”, slim with long, wavy dark hair. When she greeted me she was wearing a tight black dress with the hem line at her mid thighs, black stockings and black strappy open toed heels

She brought out her husband who was dressed in a black latex maid outfit and a blonde wig with lipstick

He was serving us refreshments. His name was Byron he was a little shorter than Mistress Ava. He had short brown hair and was a bit stocky. Byron was also wearing pink ballet boots. After Mistress Ava and I went over the details of my service to her, she brought us down to the basement and made both of us strip. Then she put black leather body harnesses and black leather leather slave masks. We were both restrained to a bondage frame facing each other. And we both had collars around our necks Then Mistress Ava attached hitachi wands to our cocks and soon our primal instincts and animal lust took over and we started tonguing each other. Before Mistress Ava went upstairs, she commented;

“What a couple of faggots and homos heh heh heh!!!”

About a half an hour later, Mistress Ava came downstairs dressed in her dungeon outfit. It consisted of black leather lingerie and black leather over the knee stiletto heeled boots

Then another woman came downstairs dressed. She was 6 feet tall, slim with athletic build and long red hair. She was dressed in an off the shoulder black leather catsuit and similar boots to Mistress Ava

Her name was Mistress Cynthia she was a little bit younger than Mistress Ava. Then they started subjecting both us slaves to severe cbt using a riding crop and a flogger. We were screaming and crying so loud that the mistresses ball gagged us both.

When they were done, they locked us both in chastity. Then they strapped us both on punishment benches, which Mistress Ava liked to call her fucking bench and then they got out wooden canes.

“You two cunts are getting 100 strokes each!! You are expected to count each stroke and say thank you Mistress!! If you miss count or forget to say thank you Mistress, we will start all over again! Do you two sluts understand?!!!”

“Yes Mistress!!”

I made it to about 70 when I slipped up. In the end I received almost 200 strokes. I think Byron also received more than 100 strokes.

“This is going up your boi cunts! Unless you want to be fucked dry, you better suck this cock!!”

Both Mistresses had strap ons on. We felt we had no choice but to suck on their cocks as we were deep throated. Then Mistress Cynthia inserted her cock up my virgin asshole. She would slap my ass as she was fucking me. She also attached a leash to my collar and she would tug on it as she was fucking me. Mistress Ava was fucking Byron and doing the same thing. Then both Mistresses decided to spit roast me making me a two hole bitch.

“Taste your ass juice whore!!! Mistress Cynthia ordered me they took turns fucking my ass and my mouth and then they spit roasted Byron. Then they released Byron from the bench and started fucking me. My first gay experience. Then he came in my ass.

Then both of us were strapped into bondage chairs. We had vibrators inserted in our ass, gagged with penis gags, had milking devices attached to our cocks. We were forced to watch fem domme porn and gay bdsm on wide screen tvs. Then we blindfolded and had noise cancelling headphones placed in our ears and were forced to listen to audio brainwashing

We were left that way till morning and experiencing constant post orgasm torture.

To Be Continued

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worldmicha · 6 years ago

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« Capture. » Vous n’avez qu’à vivre et la vie vous donnera des images. Happy Friday mes loulous. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - #worldmicha #friday #mood #flogger #bbloggers #turbante #turbanstyle #turbanista #turban #moment #instanpresent #photography #photooftheday #vscocam #photographie https://www.instagram.com/p/Bz0MQNMo0KF/?igshid=cr5qnq2uwnq0

#worldmicha #friday #mood #flogger #bbloggers #turbante #turbanstyle #turbanista #turban #moment #instanpresent #photography #photooftheday #vscocam #photographie

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aquagustd · 3 years ago

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subscribed - MYG

↣ you find out that youtube isn’t the only site he uses to satisfy his subscribers. what do you do with that information?

༄moodboard

pairing — asmr artist/camboy!yoongi x reader

genre/rating — R | fluff, smut, s2l, college au

word count — 15K [excluding the texts]

warnings/tags — strong language, same au as ‘whipped,’ cocky yoongi 🥴, GINGER yoongi !! (a warning in itself), oh god flirting, unhygienic sharing of a lollipop, yoongi is down bad, sexting, exchange of explicit images, ex-bf!yeonjun, mentions of alcohol, y/n is obsessed with the color purple, hand kink, voice kink, breast kink ofc, drool play, harmless stalking, pda, just guys being dudes, bad pickup lines, one jealous roommate, explicit smut — use of a vibrator + flogger, slight masochism, masturbation (f & m), voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, biting/scratching, degradation, name-calling, tongue sucking, a few slaps, oral (f & m), brief boob job, hickeys, deep throating, clit pinching, pussy slapping, spanks, rimming, brief handjob, edging, hair pulling, choking, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms + positions, reverse cowgirl, unprotected sex, cumshots, post-sex cuddles

a/n — ah another fic about my love for yoongi’s hands + voice sjjdkske (for the sexy pics, I don’t include any to try & be as reader inclusive as possible) when you’re reading the chats don’t swipe bc there’s commentary in between okay? okay 😤

Just like any other Friday evening, you poke your head around the doorframe in annoyance, glaring at the RA who continues to yell at the boisterous students. Counterproductive threats booming out down the hallway, just as noisy as the rest of them. Quickly rushing back inside your room, you fix your pigtails and give your reflection a small nod before stepping out again, leaning on the notice board with a playful smile on your face, arms folded.

“Namjoon!”

His head snaps in your direction and you raise a hand, fingers wiggling around as he charges toward you, chest heaving once he comes to a stop just a foot away.

“Hi,” he beams, eyes wandering down your bare legs, “cute pajamas.”

With a hand over your mouth, you giggle, slapping his toned chest lightly, “thank you. What’s going on? Kids giving you trouble again?”

He chuckles, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, “yeah. Why didn’t anyone warn me before I signed up?”

Lips in an exaggerated frown, you shrug, “should’ve read the fine print. Anyway—” you take a step toward him, watching him stiffen before he sucks in a sharp breath when your freshly painted nails drag down the collar of his blue golfer “—do you think you can keep them out? I have an early shift tomorrow and my back hurts from sitting at my desk all day.”

His hooded eyes widen, “yeah, yeah. I’ll try. You know how it goes once it hits Friday night.”

A rowdy group of students push past you and Namjoon holds up a fist, ready to cuss them out when you grab his hand, hoping your pleading eyes will work this time too.

“Please.”

He sighs, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Really?” You spring forward, reaching up to wrap your arms around his bulky shoulders, “thank you so much, Joon.”

“No problem,” he shoots you a dimpled smile, hand lingering on your waist, “hey, do you want some coffee or anything? It’s the Art students turn this week. They set up downstairs.”

You smile, socked feet sliding across the tile, “no thanks. Have a nice weekend.”

His ‘you too’ is muffled by your door, a tired hand scraping down your face before you flop back down on the bed and return to your…task.

Truth is, you don’t have an early shift tomorrow. You’re on track with all your assignments and coursework, for now. All you want is a Friday night of peace and quiet, this one especially since Mira, your impertinent roommate, is away for the weekend with her on-and-off boyfriend. She might return early, knowing the history of their little ‘trips’ but you’ll bask in the luxury of having the whole room to yourself. By doing what? Your latest guilty pleasure.

Life was boring. Would you stop complaining about it? No. Would you do anything about it? Also no.

But how did you end up here? Seeking comfort from a faceless man you’ve never met before, won’t ever meet in the future either. You once regarded such videos with open disdain, judgement. Yet here you are. Again, how did you end up here? It’s a simple story, really. At least you’d like to believe it is.

Broken-hearted, you had returned to your dorm room one night in shallow tears, collapsing on your bed to sob it out before blocking Yeonjun, your most-recent ex, off every single social media platform. Even Pinterest. Mira, equally saddened by the news for completely different reasons, was there to comfort you and dab away your tears before she disappeared with her friends after she got bored of your snot and sniffles. It was only a matter of time before his growing follower count got to him. More attention from the girls in his Tiktok comments meant less effort put into your relationship. Your puny heart.

That was that.

A month and a half sped by, and you started to appreciate Namjoon, your dorm’s Resident Advisor, more. You knew he had a crush on you from the first day you met him and the cute dents in his cheeks. Sometimes you felt a little guilty for taking advantage of that but hey, you need your quiet time and living in a dorm doesn’t guarantee a serene evening for you to complete your extensive self-care routine. Especially on this campus.

Damn Youtube’s algorithm. One night spent watching ASMR recipe videos and you couldn’t crawl back out of that dark hole. But then, that very same hole got darker and darker. Harmless recipe videos turned you into an ASMR addict. Not the weird kind, but still weird nonetheless. Youtube ran with it.

‘ASMR Soft kisses and head scratching.’

‘ASMR Boyfriend comforts you after a bad day.’

‘ASMR Boyfriend gives you a relaxing massage. Major tingles.’

The titles alone had you tearing up. How did they know you were lonely and touch-starved? So, with shifty eyes over your laptop screen, you clicked. From that it escalated, but you didn’t enjoy them all. Some were really cringe, but you were still curious.

‘Tsundere boyfriend gets jealous and punishes you.’

‘In bed with your best friend’s older brother ~spicy~’

‘Possessive Dominant Boyfriend gets jealous.’ Ick.

Each night you were on the hunt for a voice you could endure listening to without wanting to bury your head in the sand and never touch your laptop ever again. How did you get in so deep? It was entertaining and it wasn’t long before you found someone who was the whole package.

Extremely low and husky voice, nice, really nice hands, actually understands the concept of ASMR and posts content weekly.

agust d asmr

Like always, since you had all this time on your hands, you wanted to start from the beginning. However, his most recent upload caught your eye.

‘Sleep Inducing Scalp Massage’

“Hey guys. Welcome back to another video. As always, please sit back and relax. Tonight I will be giving you a scalp massage. I have a few tools here with me. Don’t forget to like and subscribe. And visit the link in my description box. Only if you want to.”

Good lord. You remember how you had to lie down just to take in his hypnotic drawl. You didn’t think it was even humanely possible for someone to have such a sexy, smoky voice? And his whispers. You were biting your fist. His face wasn’t visible, but you could see his neck and the upper part of his body, rings adorned his hands that kept stroking the dark wig he had placed in front of him. With a few shuffles up your bed, you settled under the blanket on your side, keeping your earphones in as you propped the laptop in the empty space next to you. Mira was out that night, as usual, so you didn’t care to turn down the brightness on your screen.

More suggestions popped up under the video and you were itching to click on the next one. When you clicked play once again, it felt like every strand of hair on your body stood erect. He dragged his nails down either side of the wig, lingering a bit on the top to scratch a bit.

“First, let me get the scalp oil to warm you up for the rest. This is gonna be one of my longer videos.”

He chuckled and your fingers tingled as you scrolled through the comments, laughing to yourself.

‘Welcome to another episode of I want to be that wig so bad.’

‘I would literally pay him to do this to me.’

‘His hands are such pretty necklaces 😏’

Oh. Liked by creator?

It went downhill from there. The next suggestion was something you had seen before from another creator, but his soporific voice made it all the more enjoyable.

“I’m just going to brush out all the knots in your hair. Okay?”

Reflexively, you had answered his every question. Feeling a little stupid but bordering turned on and sleepy as the video progressed.

“I got this brush this morning. Especially for you. It’s fresh and crisp. Does that feel good?”

It felt weird to even think it, but his mouth sounds were awfully enticing. The way he took his time enunciating each syllable.

“You have lovely hair. Soft…and silky.”

Your eyes felt heavy, you turned up the volume and brought the edge of the blanket up to your chin. Somehow, you had fallen asleep only to be rudely awaken by the blaring shampoo ad at the end of the video. Cursing and muttering, you had clicked on the next video and shut your eyes immediately, a little wary of another unsuspecting advertisement disrupting your trance.

“Hey guys. Welcome back to another video. This is a little different from what I usually post on here, so please do let me know in the comments if you want to see more of this. As always, sit back and relax. Click the link in my description for later…Only if you want to.”

Immediately, your heartbeat steadied to its regular pace while you were getting comfortable once again, head a little hot from that obnoxious ad. It was just a black screen, with occasional purple hearts flashing now and again. It had made you smile a bit.

“There’s going to be less talking tonight. I guess you can tell from the title alone—", deep and throaty chuckle “—so close your eyes and enjoy.”

You peeled your eyes open, scanning the title with droopy eyelids.

‘Sleep sounds – heavy breathing, light snoring + head scratches’

There’s light shuffling and then you felt like you were levitating. His heavy, labored breath filtered through your earphones followed by a patting sound. Not even five minutes in and you were squealing. Entranced by agust d asmr.

Tonight was no different, two weeks in and you couldn’t get a wink of sleep without giving your favorite asmrist a listen.

“What were you watching last night?”

Rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms, you flop back against your pillows, turning to Mira groggily.

“Nothing.”

She sits at the edge of her bed, fixing her hair, “when I got here, your laptop was open and you were KO.”

“Oh.”

To your horror, she has that familiar smug look on her face and you’re suddenly wide awake.

“Did you—”

“You’re so lonely that you actually resorted to watching boyfriend ASMR videos?”

She cackles, throwing her head back with mocking laughter. You grimace, quickly coming to your defense only for her to shut you down like she always does.

“It’s okay,” she sniggers, holding up her palms placatingly, “I’m not judging. But maybe if you actually came along last night, you wouldn’t have to watch all that weird shit.”

Frowning, you hop off the bed and walk around her, snatching up the outfit you set out last night. She watches you with a mirthful smile, pushing her glasses up the slope of her nose.

“I don’t watch those videos all the time, it just happened to pop up on my Youtube feed so I watched it and fell off to sleep,” you justify, reaching around her for your bag of toiletries, “it just came up.”

She nods, “well then, are you coming with me tonight?”

“I don’t think so. I have a late shift—”

With an eyeroll, she stomps toward the door, grabbing her backpack from the desk, “see you later then.”

God. If there was one thing you wish you could do; go back in time and slap your past self for agreeing to share a room with Mira for another grueling year.

Before your shift later, you decide to take some time to go through agust d asmr’s Youtube page. You have three hundred and twelve videos to go through! Usually, you would take this time to do a little pre-read of your lecture notes for this week, but with all the spare time you have on your hands these days, you’ve already done that.

However, you’d have to be more careful this time. A cursory look over your shoulder to check if the door is fully closed, earphones plugged in and you’re set. You’re sat in front of your laptop, coffee and popcorn, courtesy of Namjoon, in hand as you explore his agust d asmr’s Youtube page. Perhaps you take every free minute as an opportunity to watch more of his videos because you’re insanely attracted to his voice and hands. That is the only explanation. Recently, you can’t get him out of your head and you find your mind wandering to the video you watched the night before. Be it in class, or at work.

When it comes down to your type, your exes, past lovers, they all had two things in common. Something you can’t avoid swooning over each time.

His first few videos are under five minutes, all with over 300K views, just to watch him play with slime, unbox his new filming equipment and—

‘Peeling tangerines for ten minutes straight.’

You snort, a little too loudly. Almost choking on a dry popcorn seed when you read his reply to a comment on that video.

‘I just wanna know who’s gonna eat all those tangerines.’ – ‘Me.’

The video itself is mesmerizing. Watching his fingers pat the skin of the fruit before his thumb dips into the center, slowly pulling back each section and taking extra care to pluck out the extra fibers. Then setting it inside the pretty basket kept to the side. Whilst peeling the last one, his fingers disappear from the frame, and you hear a sucking sound. Stomach twisting in on itself when you hear him say ‘so sweet.’

You know he’s hot. He sounds so hot. It’s driving you insane the more you watch but can you stop? No. You can’t even if you wanted to.

The video comes to an end unfortunately and you must choose another one to watch. You’re about to click on one when another thumbnail catches your eye. Specifically, the bracelet, the plastic band he’s wearing on his left wrist.

Disregarding the content of the video, you focus on that band, unsure of what to think. Your eyes must be deceiving you. It can’t be? Dragging the cursor over the bottom of the screen, you pause on one frame that shows the band clearly. Your heart leaps to your throat.

It’s not just a regular, plastic band. It’s the same cheap band they sell at your college at the beginning of every year when you register for your course. Stating that it’s made from recyclable materials and the proceeds go to charity. But what’s even worse is that you can SEE your college emblem, staring right back at you.

“Hey I forgot my—” Mira barges in, four eyes going zeroing in on your screen before you slam it shut. But she already saw. “—are you still watching boyfriend ASMR?”

You groan, “why do you call it that? No, I’m not!”

She falls onto your bed, popcorn toppling over with the bounce, “stop lying. I saw it. It’s so fucking weird. I don’t know how you even watch that shit.”

Shaking your head lightly, you open your laptop and point to the screen, watching her face intently.

“I think this guy goes to our college.”

“Oh shit,” she laughs, sitting up on her elbows, “you’re kidding? Play the video.”

Tucking your lower lip between your teeth, you look between her and the screen, an unknown feeling settling in your chest when a look of recognition falls over her features.

“Oh my fucking God. I could recognize those hands anywhere.”

“What?” Your voice is high-pitched, fingers grabbing at her shoulders, “who is he?!”

She swats your hands away, “chill out bro. He’s literally the hottest guy in my chem class.”

“What’s his name, you idiot?”

“Min Yoongi.”

Your head cocks to the side, “I haven’t heard his name before.”

She’s too focused on the screen now, legs settled under her thighs, “so he goes by Agust D on Youtube.”

“Oh my God, please don’t tell anyone. Maybe he wants to keep it a secret since he doesn’t show his face in any of his videos.”

Her mouth quirks to the side, “I won’t. But now I see the hype. His hands are literally the sexiest I have ever seen.”

“How come you never talked about him before?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. But anyway, I have to get back. Feels fun knowing a secret about the quiet guy. Still waters do run deep.”

You kneel on your bed, “wait! Don—” She’s gone just as quick as she arrived and you hear your alarm going off in the background.

On your way to work, you search up his name, Min Yoongi, on Instagram, finding him pretty quickly since you have a few mutual followers.

You stop in your tracks, jaw unhinged.

If that’s him in his profile picture…your mind is reeling. He is insanely handsome. Pretty. Luckily, he has an open account so you go crazy. One particular post catches your eye. He’s friends with Namjoon? You close Instagram and open up Twitter. Typing in his name to find…nothing. You try different variations, even filtering the search to ‘near you,’ but nothing shows up.

Thankfully, the fast-food restaurant you work at isn’t too busy at this hour, so you continue with your research once you get there.

Literally everyone you know has a Twitter account. It’s odd that he doesn’t. And then you’re back on the mobile Youtube app. Quickly turning down the volume, one of his videos being on your homepage for your speedy viewing. He doesn’t have any socials in the description box like other asmrists, but you remember a link being there. The one he refers to in all his videos and when you click on it, you’re directed to his Twitter page.

He has nearly ten thousand followers. And his account is private. What’s that about? You will find out eventually and just as you’re about to click follow, you remember that you are a student on the same campus as him. He CANNOT know that you watch his ASMR videos because how else did you find his account? When you tried searching ‘Agust D,’ nothing showed up, so the link is the only way to view his Twitter account.

With the few working braincells you have left, you create another Twitter account (username_purple) and decide to follow him from that account, but you’re interrupted.

You shove your phone in your pocket when you hear your coworker, Leah, call your name from the kitchen. Finding her with the telephone in her hand.

“It’s your mother,” she announces, returning to her place at the grimy stovetop.

Taking a heavy breath, you hold the phone to your ear, speaking in a hushed tone, “hey mum.”

“Hello darling, we miss you so much here at home. How are you keeping?”

You grit your teeth, “why are you phoning here? You know you can call me on my cell.”

“I know! But you said you don’t keep your cell on you when you’re working, so I just thought I’d use this number.”

“I do, but—” you groan softly, seeing Leah eye you from behind the counter, clearly nettled that you’re not on the job “—I’m doing okay. What about you?”

From your mother’s delayed reply, you can tell that something is on her mind. Ever since your family cat, White Socks, had passed last December, she has been calling more often and you feel terrible for not contacting her as often as you used to.

“Hey mum, I’ll talk to you later, okay? I need to get back to work.”

“Oh don’t worry. I just wanted to know how you were doing and how’s Yeonjun?”

That bothers you.

“Mum, you know we broke up like almost two months ago.”

She laughs, “right. I forgot. Well, I hope you’re not missing out on all that college boy—”

“Mum!”

“Tell me you’re seeing someone?”

You look heavenward, clutching the phone tightly, “yeah mum. Anyway, I have to go. Love you.”

“Oh thank goodness. Love you too. Be safe!”

Propping the phone back in the holster, you rinse your hands out then return to the front, pausing briefly when you see Namjoon at the back of the queue. Leah attends to the first few customers and then you’re up, your best customer service smile in place.

“Welcome to galbi, how can I help you?”

“Hi,” he smiles shyly, jutting his thumb somewhere behind him, “my friends and I wanted to know what time you guys close?”

Giggling internally, you point to the notice outside, “around 9.”

He nods, you’re aware that he just came in to talk to you. And then your attention is drawn to his friends outside. Is that…him? Holy—

Namjoon waves a hand in front of you, and you snap back to reality, hyperaware of the fact that the guy you spend your nights listening to for hours is standing a few feet away. In the flesh. With his sexy hands and voice and his muscular body. He’s a little shorter than you expected but he’s still taller than you. Much taller. Oh God, why are you drooling?

“Hm?”

Namjoon laughs, shiny teeth on display, “I said we’ll come back later if we’re hungry.”

You nod, “okay…uhm, where are you headed?”

He taps a beat on the edge of the counter, “it’s someone’s birthday. I don’t know who. But that’s where we’re going. Anyway, have a nice night.”

Absentmindedly, you convey your own greeting through a pensive smile, watching his little group of friends disappear into the night.

You’ve got to do it now. Or at least, when your shift is over.

Fishing your phone out of your jeans pocket, you open up Youtube, find the link again and request to follow him on Twitter. Just then, your phone pings with a message from Mira, phone almost slipping from your hands when you open it up.

He should accept your follow request soon and then you’d see what lies beyond. You know nothing about him, except that he runs an ASMR page and goes to your college and is extremely attractive.

After you shower, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that he had accepted your request, a victorious grin puffing up your cheeks as you throw on your lilac sleepshirt and hop in bed. Ready to do some more digging.

Why does he always use the butterfly emoji? It’s everywhere. Even on his Youtube page.

It’s past midnight and you know Mira won’t be arriving until morning. Clicking the link once again for a login/sign up page to pop up.

FLUTTERBY.COM

Halfway through and you realize that a monthly subscription fee is involved. Fuck. You can’t afford that. What’s up with the username suggestions? ‘cvmslvt’ ‘biteme’

But you need to know what lies beyond that link. Your bank account weeps as you fill in your card details and then you’re clear. Directed to a video player.

‘This stream will start shortly’

The website’s theme is glowing purples and blacks, the blue outline of butterflies on either side of the screen. That’s probably why he uses that emoji. Is it like a code? Code for this site? What is this site about? What did you even sign up for? Oh well, at least the aesthetic is pretty.

‘Glosshots will begin streaming shortly’

Glosshot—

Countless comments fly up the screen once the stream starts. All praises and very…thirsty. A suspicious empty office chair rolling into view before someone sits down, legs spread, face out of view…

Is that…him?

He speaks and oh boy, it is him.

“Hi, thank you for tuning in tonight. Looking at the votes from the last time, I think I know what you all want.”

You gulp. Head dipping lower to see his hands run up and down his thighs. Everyone in the comments is telling him to take out his…COCK?

WHAT SITE IS THIS? IS HE—IS THIS? OH MY GO—

“Oh? Many of you are saying you’ve had a bad week. Need me to take care of you hm?”

You watch him lick his lips, smirking as he unzips his pants. What’s worse is that he’s wearing the same pants from earlier. But do you plan to leave the stream? No.

“Why don’t you slip off your panties baby? Spread those legs for me.”

You do none of that. Absolutely still when you see him dip his hands into his pants and pull out his cock. The kind of cock you only see in porn. Sorrel brown cock with thick veins running along the sides, pretty hands stroking from root to tip.

“Play with that clit baby. Get yourself nice and wet for me.”

He pulls off his hoodie with his free hand, pale skin glistening under the dim light as he continues to stroke himself, rolling his fist around the tip. He’s so fucking hot.

“No no,” he chuckles, spreading his legs even further as he grips the base of his girthy cock, “don’t put a finger in yet. Just rub that lil clit for me. No, actually first suck your fingers. Go on, get your fingers nice and wet then spread it all over your cunt.”

Have you been grinding on your heel this entire time? A heavy weight settles in the pit of your stomach, you spring up and place the laptop of your thighs, throat going dry when he squeezes some lube on his erect cock, squelching sounds echoing in your room as he fucks into his fist. Ignoring the twinge between your thighs.

“Oh,” he groans, thumb splitting the leaking tip before it slips between his fingers, hips lifting from the seat, “you’re so fucking pretty baby. Make some more sounds for me. Rub that clit faster.”

The head you would give this man. What? No. Wait. You’re rubbing your thighs together, nails clawing into your sheets before you finally succumb to the growing sensation and reach into your panties. You tuck your lower lip between your teeth, finding your swollen clit before dipping lower, collecting your slick on your fingers. Your heart racks against your ribcage. This was the last thing you expected, but it feels so good.

His voice gets breathier, lower, more commanding. Your movements become erratic, trying to match the pace of his fist sliding over his cock.

Just when you think he’s about to cum, he stops, trembling as he slows his movements and bends over the camera, silver chain dangling from his neck.

“Don’t cum yet. Pinch that clit for me. That’s it. Rub it. Bet you’re a whining mess now, huh you little slut? Desperate to stuff your fingers in that fat pussy.”

Your eyes widen, unaware that those words could have you feeling a million times more aroused as you’re bucking into your hand, taking strained breaths while you’re trying to delay your orgasm. A panicked moan slipping from your lips when he forms a tunnel with both his fists, bucking into them all while urging you on.

“Go on then, fuck yourself on your fingers. Still not enough? Add another. Oh, my fingers would stretch you out good baby. But you’d just have to watch me like this, wishing you could have me.”

He laughs devilishly, taunting you by coming closer to the screen, snapping his hips faster. Your index and middle finger move in time with his thrusts, curling them deep inside before that knot tightens and sweat collects on your chest, eyes flying shut when you pinch your nipple with your free hand. Back arching right before—

“Don’t cum.”

A shriek jumps out of your lips, pruned fingers abusing your walls before you pull them out, feeling your high ebb away.

He growls, lowering onto the chair behind him while you’re waiting for him to speak with bated breath, tears prickling the corners of your eyes. He leans forward, apparently reading the comments because he laughs, stiff cock pressed into his abdomen.

“What? You were so close? That’s too bad slut. You cum when I tell you too. Now, slap that pussy for me.”

You rear your hand back, jolting when it comes down weakly, hole clenching uncontrollably, begging to be filled.

“That’s it, again,” he begins stroking his cock once more, a tighter hold this time and you’re determined to make yourself cum, so as if he can see you somehow, you follow his every order.

“Twists those nipples for me.”

“Spit on your hand.”

“Sit up on your knees and fuck yourself on your fingers.”

Your legs are spread apart, hair sticking to your neck as you bounce on your hand, leaning forward to lift your ass up and down until you hear him say the words, gushing all over your fingers with breathless whispers. You’ve never cum this hard from masturbation alone. And he’s reaching his own end, toned hands working fast before you hear his choked moan, cock out of your view as you see his stomach tremble. Adam’s apple bobbing, he tosses his head back.

His chain sits between his large pecs, rising and falling as his breaths steady, and he mutters out a small goodnight. A blue butterfly, the logo of the site, fills the screen and you must leave your review. How do you get him out of your head after this?

Judging from your sodden sheets and cramped fingers, it was a five-star experience.

After a dreamless sleep, you rise early that morning well-rested with a peaceful smile on your face. Rolling over on your side to check your socials like you usually do. One notification has your heart beating thunderously.

Min Yoongi started following you.

A few excited squeals and you follow him back.

Next is Twitter. You decide to use your other account to check his profile once again when you find that you’re still following zero.

Huh? You distinctly remember following him, how else would you have—Oh no.

Leaping up from bed, you switch to your personal account to find that instead of following him from the account you created especially to follow Agust D, you followed him from your personal.

That explains why he followed you on Instagram from his personal.

Oh no. Now he knows that you watch his ASMR videos.

Now he knows that you know about that little site.

“Fuck.”

Mira practically begged on her knees for you to go to this party with her. You obviously couldn’t tell her that no, you cannot go to a party with her after you embarrassed yourself by following a guy from your college on his camboy account. She would probably say that it’s not a big deal. You’re not going to tell her. It was a decision you made last night after realizing a little too late that she cannot keep a secret to save her life. Especially when her friend Hana talks about Yoongi’s ASMR page.

“Hey,” you call, nudging Mira lightly as you fill up a cup, speaking over the loud music, “do you think he’ll be here?”

She bites into an olive, nearly squirting some juice into your eye, “who?”

You click your tongue, “you know who. Min Yoongi!”

Hana throws an arm over your shoulder, “we’re talking about Yoongi? The guy who keeps giving Mira the look in chem.”

“What look?”

Mira, wearing a wry smile, shrugs, attempting to dodge your question by asking her own but you grip her arm.

“Aren’t you and Mike back together?”

She elbows your ribs, breaking out of your hold, “I ditched him for good this time.”

You nod, biting your tongue. Typical Mira behavior. Will you ever learn your lesson? When you and Yeonjun broke up, she was there to comfort you but then befriended him once things died down between you. You still don’t know what happened between them and you’d rather not. It might seem a bit petty, but that’s the trend you noticed when it comes to you and her. But, if Yoongi is giving her attention, then there’s nothing you can do about it. Except live with the fact that you saw his cock and will probably see his cock again after tonight.

Hana, Mira and Mina saunter their way to the lounge while you’re left with your thoughts. Not alone for too long however because you catch Namjoon making his way toward you, drink in hand.

“Nice to see you out.”

Before you can respond, a shorter guy with sandy blond hair catches Namjoon in a chokehold, eyes raking down your figure. You give him a small smile, one he returns with crinkled eyes.

“You gonna introduce us to your friend over here, hyung?”

Namjoon, wriggling out of his hold a little peeved, says your name then points to the other guy who extends his hand.

“Jimin.”

“Hi Jimin.”

He comes around to your other side once you return his handshake, forcing you to stand in the doorway.

“Hi hi,” he sing-songs, taking a swig from his cup before pointing out into the dining area, “you see my friend over there.”

You spin around, “what fri—” The words die on your tongue when you follow his line of sight to discover Yoongi, rubbing the side of his nose with his knuckle as he continues to side-eye you three. He’s probably been there this whole time and you didn’t know. Shit.

“Ye-ah,” you clear your throat, “what about him?”

He grins, “he’s a little shy.”

You cock an eyebrow, unable to hide the surprise in your voice, “oh is he?”

“What the fuck, Jimin?”

Jimin shoves his hand in a frantic Namjoon’s face, “shut up.”

Yoongi, obviously aware that you’re chatting about him, returns your stare unabashedly, swirling the drink in his cup before holding it up to his face with those big hands, watching you over the rim with darkened eyes. You shoot him an equally seductive look, hoping you don’t look crazy before you refocus on Jimin who prattles on about his friend. As if you aren’t already charmed by him.

“He said I should tell you that he thinks you’re cute.”

“Cute?”

Jimin rushes to correct his words, laughing around a sheepish smile, “really beautiful.”

You glance at Yoongi, shocked that you’re able to keep a calm demeanor when your face feels like it’s overheating. He winks, setting your heart on fire.

“Well, then why didn’t he come tell me that himself?”

Jimin chuckles, voice drowned out by the intro of another song, “like I said, he’s really shy. Maybe I could give you his number and you know…”

You pretend to think, already having your answer ready with one last look in Yoongi’s direction.

“Since you’re cute,” you reason, handing him your phone, “here.”

He types for a bit then hands it back, taking Namjoon with him as you wave them off. With that, you inform Mira that you’d see her later and head back to your dorm, mind racing as much as your heart.

It took you exactly twenty-seven minutes to calm down and exactly fifteen minutes to psych yourself up and send him a message. You don’t know what’s going on between him and Mira but all you know is that you have a big, fat crush on him. One that only worsened after you saw him tonight. Fuck, that hair. That wink. He’s such a hot piece of shit and he knows it. And he knows you watched him last night. Your gut is right 99.9% of the time.

Once you send him a message, his response comes within the next few seconds.

You were supposed to use this time to finish up your coursework for the week. But you’re struggling to form a single coherent thought.

He wants you to watch him? He wants you to watch him…he knows you watch him. You shove your face into your pillow, a sound between a bleat and a moo muffled by the purple fabric before you start to pace the small space of your room.

What time did he start last night? Maybe he’ll tweet the link again and then you can join from there. That’s why he has that twitter account right.

In all your internal rambling, you lose track of time and it’s nearly past midnight. Your phone goes off with a notification from his Twitter. And similar to the night before, you have your laptop set on your folded legs, pillows fluffed up behind you. Door locked. As if Mira doesn’t have her own key. Like you expected, he’s wearing the same outfit from earlier, rings still on. All you envision is the smirk he had pasted on his face, the wink he sent you, his fingers…You haven’t talked to the guy before, and you’re already so far gone.

“Let’s check the votes,” he leans forward, milky neck exposed to your greedy eyes before he sits back, reaching somewhere behind him to produce a…Hitachi wand. When did your pussy develop a heartbeat of its own? You make a mental note to vote at the end of tonight’s stream. Last night you were far too…tired to try and get accustomed to this site.

You hear a faint buzzing sound, fingers skimming your bottom lip as you watch him roll the tip over his crotch, free hand gripping the armrest before he unbuttons his shirt and kicks off his pants, white boxer briefs snug around the outline of his thick cock.

He doesn’t say much this time, but you’re all too happy to sit and listen to his heavy breaths, seeing him lie back and take out his cock. Setting the vibrator under the mushroom tip. Before you know it, his moans heighten in pitch, stomach quivering when he pulls the vibrator away and does it again. And again. Edging himself till incoherent whispers can be heard from his parted lips.

“Fuck,” he mutters, thick with arousal, “I’m gonna cum. Please. Let me cum.”

The whine in his voice has you spiraling, knuckles caught between your teeth before you reach into your pajama shorts, finding them drenched in your slick as you work two quick fingers over your clit, head pressing into the pillow behind you.

“Please,” he continues to beg, shivering and squirming under the assault of the vibrator, dipping lower to rub over his balls then back around to the tip of his cock, “I need to cum. Hurts so bad.”

You let your eyes fall shut, rubbing the sensitive skin on either side of your clit with your index and ring finger while your middle finger presses down on your clit, pulling back the hood to find the perfect rhythm. Gasping quietly just as his gasps get louder and more urgent, toes curling into the sheets beneath you. Blood rushing to your face, your hips lift from the mattress, spurred on by his stuttered moans as the coil tightens and snaps, trembling through your orgasm.

When you crack your eyes open, he’s hunched over the camera, fucking lazily into his fist before he chuckles. Ears perking up when you think you hear what sounds like a whisper of your name.

“You’re a lot chirpier these days.”

Shooting Leah a confused look, you help her carry the second stack of trays back to the kitchen, balancing the rest on your forearm expertly.

“What do you mean?”

She smiles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “I mean, you’re doing much better compared to last month. You know, everything that happened with Yeonjun and…White Socks.”

Misinterpreting your silence for sadness, she waves her hands around, apologizing for bringing it up but you’re quick to tell her that it’s okay.

“I actually do feel like I’m doing a lot better,” you snort, wiping down a ketchup bottle before sliding it in her direction. You must have a mellow smile on your face because Leah nudges you with her hip, raising a suggestive brow.

“What’s with that look?”

Wondering whether you should tell her about Yoongi or not, you open and close your mouth a few times only to be disrupted by loud chatter coming from the front.

“I’ll tell you later,” you promise, fixing the bow on your apron and stopping short of the door when you catch sight of who just entered.

Yoongi and Namjoon and the rest of that group. Jimin seems to announce your presence because all seven of them turn to look in your direction. Your eyes are set on one and when your gazes lock, he smirks and is the first to sit down. Regaining your composure, you tighten your ponytail and shuffle to their table, returning Namjoon and Jimin’s impish smiles.

“Hey guys. What can I get for you?”

Your gaze rests on Yoongi who has his nose buried in the menu, a few strands of hair falling over his forehead. The guy seated next to Yoongi slaps him on the back, hard, causing him to jerk forward with a grumble of ‘hyung.’

“Yoongi’s paying tonight, right?” He announces, looking at the guy next to him for confirmation. It isn’t difficult to notice that they’re sharing some kind of inside joke with the way they all mumble the affirmative, chuckling behind their hands.

“Great! We’ll take three of the meat lovers special with four extra servings of fries, what else? Do you want anything?”

You clutch the pen to your chest, “me?”

Yoongi’s head raises once he hears you speak, seven pairs of eyes on you while they wait for your answer.

“She wants Yoongi hyung’s meat—OW.”

Your cheeks burn, finding Namjoon’s apologetic smile as he keeps the brazen guy under his arm. From the corner of eye, you think you see Yoongi’s lips stretch into a smile, setting your tummy in a stir.

“Will that be all?”

“No,” one of them pipes up, stating his order, clearly taking advantage of the fact that he won’t be the one paying before you scribble it down, repeating the order to them twice then heading back to the kitchen.

You shove a finger into your collar, the heat in the kitchen being too much for you once Leah gets to work but you’d rather hang back until their orders are done because you don’t want to be victim to their sly remarks.

It’s evident that they know something’s going on between you and Yoongi. They’re rowdy and loud, filling up the usually quiet space with rich, masculine laughter as you balance the trays in hand and walk on shaky legs to the table, grateful that they’re the last customers for tonight because the knowing look Yoongi sends your way once you set down the plates has your heart stuttering in your chest.

You’re yet to hear his voice. In person. That’s all you want for now. Even if you don’t get a chance to have a conversation with him tonight.

With Leah’s orders, you had to stay out front till they were done, catching Yoongi’s secretive winks before they all finish up and leave. Yoongi, hands buried in his jeans pockets, glides over to the counter where you’ve been wiping the same spot for the past ten minutes.

“Hey, uhm, how much?”

Despite knowing the amount, you still tap a few times on the screen, avoiding his gaze as you state the amount. Grimacing at your bored tone.

You take the cash from him, swallowing thickly when your fingers touch and placing the notes haphazardly into the drawer. He lingers for a while and when you finally lift your head, he has an indecipherable look on his face, head cocked to the side. He’s wearing a hoodie with a graffiti dog on the front, ginger hair gelled back.

“I would give you a tip but uh—”

You blink, frozen when he leans in closer to whisper—

“You can have mine later.”

His smirk cracks into laughter but you’re quick to counter with—

“I can take more than that.”

You watch his pink lips purse, his eyebrow twitching slightly, “oh?”

Tangled in the heat of his gaze, you’re unable to say anything else, heart swelling in your throat. Taking in as much of his face as you can before his friends call out to him from outside. A chilly breeze has the scent of his perfume filling your nostrils, luring you in even further.

“We’ll talk later,” he says softly, taking a few steps backward while still holding your gaze, “bye.”

“Bye,” you say a little too dreamily, hand held up to the side of your face as you wave him off.

Once you get home, you contemplate whether or not you should text him first. Chewing off a hangnail before finally deciding that you would after you shower, but he beats you to it.

“Move your hand. Let me see you.”

Rolling your eyes despite the foray of emotions surging through you, you let your hand fall to the side, reaching over to turn on the LED lights behind you.

“What are you wearing?”

You laugh nervously, “straight to it huh?”

“No,” he snorts, falling back onto his pillows and knocking the breath from your lungs with his face yet again, “you look cute.”

“Oh, just a vest and shorts. I was too lazy to actually look for pajamas.”

“Hmm, lazy girl.”

You’re gripping your thigh to keep yourself from squealing like a lovesick schoolgirl. How long has it been since you felt this way?

He runs a hand through his hair, propping it behind his head to give you the perfect view of his muscular arm, “what are you up to?”

“Nothing much,” you giggle, “talking to you.”

“You don’t say.”

“Shut up.”

“Fine. I’ll go.”

“No. Don’t go.”

He laughs, low and gravelly, “I’m just messing with you.”

“I know.”

“So, tell me about yourself?”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Hmm, anything. You stay at the dorms? Namjoon told me.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “with Mira.”

He squints, “who’s Mira?”

“My roommate,” you reply, a little surprised that he doesn’t know who she in considering what her friends were talking about a few days ago, “she’s in your chem class.”

He shakes his head, speaking around a yawn, “probably. Never heard of her before.”

“Hmm.” Funny.

“That was your cat on your profile picture?”

The conversation goes on till four in the morning which you highly regret once you wake up for your 9AM lecture the next day but it was worth it. He’s studying Biochemistry, against his will he joked, but plans on pursuing his dream which turns out to be music. He has a pet toy poodle whose name is Holly and has the cutest gummy smile you have ever seen. Especially when he gets shy and flustered which he said only happens when you’re around.

“I’m guessing all your friends know we talk,” you enquire, stifling a yawn.

“Yeah.” His voice is laced with sleep, your new favorite sound. “Namjoon had a crush on you. But he wasn’t planning on doing anything about it so here I am. And he knows I hardly ever do stuff like this so…”

“Oh? So, what you’re saying is…I should feel flattered that you’re taking the time to talk to me?” You tease, seeing him nod, trying to keep his expression serious.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he grins, “so tell me. You said you liked when it when I used the vibrator…?”

You sit up in bed, crossing and uncrossing your legs, “yeah…why?”

His voice lowers in tone, bringing the phone closer to his face, “tell me what else you wanna see.”

Blushing furiously, you splutter, “I don’t know. Why don’t you surprise me?”

You’re more than surprised during his next stream. Painfully horny and frustrated. Drooling at the screen as you watch his vascular hand swing the flogger between his legs. Cock bobbing against his abdomen when it cracks into his thigh, a string of curses leaving both your lips. The comments speed up the screen, nearly fifty thousand people enjoying it just as much as you but none of them know who he is. None of them discussed this with him like you did.

He sucks in a breath through gritted teeth when he tosses the flogger over his shoulder, tassels hitting his back before he drags it over his nipples, whining when it touches the head of his cock.

Your fingers dance across your chest, thumb running over your nipples, absorbing every little sound he makes for it to pool between your legs. He draws the flogger back, ready to come down on his now reddened thigh when the door swings open, crashing into the wall similar to the way you slam your laptop shut, holding up the covers to your chin when Mira throws herself over your legs, sobbing into your purple grape plushies.

“Hey, hey” you try, setting your laptop aside with mild disappointment, “what happened? What’s wrong?”

The alarm clock on your bedside tells you that it’s a little after 1AM. You have the strong suspicion that it has something to do with Mike. She lets you take off her shoes, rolling under your blanket as if she doesn’t reek of cheap alcohol.

“Mike,” she sniffles, blowing into her sleeve, “he’s such a fucking asshole.”

“Everyone knows that,” you sigh, handing her a tissue, “what did he do this time?”

Despite hearing it before, you still let her vent, agreeing with her when she calls him every vile name under the sun and letting her finish your new box of tissues. You know he isn’t the one to blame, since she keeps interfering whenever he tries to move on and find someone new. But you won’t tell her that, because a drunk, sad Mira can be brutal.

“I just hate him so much! Maybe I should just stay single and lonely like you,” she mopes, sliding off your bed to fall flat onto the rug.

Hearing your phone ding, you reach over to see Yoongi’s name on the screen, heart doing a little somersault.

When your phone rings, Mira’s head pops up from the other side of your bed, mouthing ‘who’s that?’ once you hold the phone up to your ear.

“Hi Yoongi.”

Confusion twists her features.

“Hey,” he answers. It seems like you could never get used to hearing his voice, despite contributing half a million views on every ASMR video he posted. “How are you?”

“Good,” you smile, toying with a strand of hair as you stare at your reflection goofily, “and you?”

“Good now that I’m talking to you.”

“That was corny,” you giggle, scrunching up your nose.

He exhales deeply, you can almost hear the smile in his voice, “I know. But I’m only speaking facts.”

“Hmm. So, what’s up?”

“Well, since you met all my friends the other night, I wanted to ask if you’d like to go bowling with us…with me tomorrow night?”

“Bowling?”

“Yeah, I mean, we don’t have to. We can just hang out if—”

“No, I’d love to.”

“Really?”

Cheeks aching from how hard you’re smiling, you squeak, “yeah!”

“Okay, awesome. Let me know if you need a ride. I’ll text you.”

“Cool.”

“Bye Yoongi.”

“Bye~”

Your moment is spoiled by Mira’s questioning face, tapping her foot impatiently. “What was that about?”

Putting your phone to charge, you turn off the main light and tuck yourself back in bed, “Yoongi. He asked me to go bowling with him tomorrow night.”

“Oh…that’s nice. Have fun then.”

It’s too dark for you to make out her expression but her tone tells you all you need to know. However, you’re too excited to care. Already planning out your outfit in your head with butterflies swarming your belly.

Smoothing your hands down the skirt of your dress, you push open the double doors, loud chatter doing nothing to ease your nerves that have been eating at you during your ride to the bowling. Flashing neon lights greet you, the sound of a man announcing drowns out the upbeat music. It’s darker than you expected, glowing shapes on the carpet guide you further inside. You had called an Uber instead of asking Yoongi for a ride since you were running a little, fashionably, late. It doesn’t take you long to spot them, goofing around with the bowling bowls. You smile to yourself once you see Yoongi sitting at the entrance, eyebrows screwed together.

“Hi.”

He springs to his feet, fingers splayed across your back as he pulls you in for a hug. Your eyes flutter when his scent surrounds you, warmth from his palm spreading across your skin as he drinks you in, lip tucked between his teeth.

“You look…wow.” You’re grateful that you chose to wear the collared dress instead of a cropped hoodie and jeans.

“Thank you,” you beam, letting your gaze rake down his figure, “so do you.”

Hand still snug against your back, he ushers you to the front, helping you into a pair of bowling shoes. He grabs your left ankle and props your foot up on his knee, tongue poking out cutely as he ties your laces. You hold onto his shoulder for balance, charmed by his sweet and caring demeanor.

“Thank you.”

He rises to his full height, face a few inches from yours, “you’re welcome.”

Rudely interrupted by his friends, he takes the opportunity to introduce you to them. Jungkook, the youngest of his friend group, seems to be the only one who brought someone along, his girlfriend you assume.

Namjoon claps twice, demanding everyone’s attention, “now that everyone is here, let’s divide into teams.”

Jimin groans from his place on the bench, “do we have to?”

“Of course,” Yoongi chimes in, guiding you to the bench on the opposite side.

Jimin raises an accusing finger, pointing between the two of you, “you just want to be paired with her.”

They all laugh, attracting the attention from the family a few benches away. You catch Yoongi looking at you from the corner of his eye, the faintest blush on his cheeks.

“Isn’t that how it works?” You ask genuinely, only having gone bowling with your family years ago when you were a child.

Namjoon goes over the rules, but you seem to be the only one listening. When you turn your head to look at Yoongi, he’s already looking at you.

“If you need help, I’ll be here.”

One of the attendants help set up the scoreboard after suggesting that there should be three teams, since there’s nine of you and there are three available lanes. Your team is up first, and Yoongi helps you with the ball, warm fingers running over yours.

He demonstrates how you should swing your arm back, muscles rippling in his skin before he stands behind you, chest pressed into your back. You honestly don’t care much about the scores, all you’re focused on is Yoongi’s lips moving around your ear as he speaks.

“Just relax,” he whispers, massaging your shoulders lightly, “you can take a few steps back when you’re ready and then let go.”

He moves away, gesturing for you to try and you’re hoping you don’t look like an idiot when you draw your hand back and let the heavy ball slip from your fingers, swaying a bit to the side before knocking over the pins, two still stand.

“You did so good!” He cheers, gums on display, “my turn.”

Shyly, you return to the bench where Jimin sits, watching Yoongi’s face as he concentrates.

“He has a weird way of doing it,” Jimin laughs, “but he still manages to get them all.”

Watching Yoongi bend his knees expertly, the ball rolls from his hands and he knocks down all ten pins, a fist of victory cutting through the air. Jimin, being on your team, leaps up to pat Yoongi’s back, giving Jungkook and his team the finger.

“That was so cool.”

“Yeah?”

He nudges your shoulder, sitting impossibly close to you as you watch the rest of them have their turns showing off. The lighting here is relaxing, and you find yourself making friends with Jungkook’s girlfriend. She’s really sweet and soft-spoken. They’re all really hospitable, and you don’t feel out of place for even a second.

Amid the game, everyone except Jungkook and Taehyung lose interest and you’re all busy with your own conversations, Yoongi with his arm around your backrest, fingers dangerously close to your neck. A guy selling popcorn and sweets passes you by and they all hover around him.

“You want anything?”

You scan the options, not feeling particularly hungry but still wanting something to chew on. Or suck on.

“I’ll have the cherry lollipop.”

That turns out to be a terrible idea…or fantastic idea. Throughout the whole conversation, Yoongi’s eyes are glued to your lips, and you jokingly ask if he wants a taste. Not expecting him to take it from you.

Eyes still on yours, he pops the lollipop in his mouth while you sit stunned, goosebumps rising on your skin.

He rolls his tongue over it, humming quietly, “it tastes good.”

The small smirk he has on tells you that he knows what he’s doing to you, so you decide two can play that game and tease him further.

He thrusts the lollipop in your direction, and you stick out your tongue, fully expecting him to put it there but he’s obviously a devil. You hold his gaze as he presses it into your tongue, drawing small circles with it before bringing it back to his lips and taking a suck. Throat a little dry, you swallow, trembling when he scoots closer to you and asks if you want another suck.

Nodding, you seem to forget that you’re in public but it’s too dark for anyone to see what you’re up to and you also seem to forget that he stole your lollipop.

Just like earlier, you open your mouth, expecting the sweetness of the lollipop but receiving his sticky mouth instead. Eyes widening a fraction when he leans in and covers your mouth with his, an exchange of spit and syrup. Your heartbeat accelerates, hands reaching up to grip onto the front of his shirt when his tongue hits the roof of your mouth. The kiss is sloppy, but tasty, his lips soft as they move over your own. He swallows up your moans when his lips close around your tongue, bobbing his head slowly as he sucks your wet muscle into his mouth.

You clench your thighs together, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by him, especially when he nips on the tip of your tongue, thumb swiping along your bottom lip when he pulls away.

He presses his thumb onto your tongue, grinning before the lollipop is shoved into your mouth, chin and cheeks wet with spit.

“Tasty,” he grins, fingers dancing up the side of your neck.

Knowing that the lollipop is warm because it was in his mouth does unspeakable things to you. You shift uncomfortably, feeling how damp your panties have become.

You’re working up the courage to maybe…kiss his neck when you hear your name being called, tilting your head slightly to see Mira and her friends making their way toward you.

“What are you guys doing here?”

Yoongi’s hold around your shoulders loosens when you sit forward, speaking around your lollipop.

“Duh. We came to bowl,” she slurs, uncoordinated as she throws herself on the bench across you and Yoongi, knees touching his, “hi Yoongi.”

He smiles, shooting you a bewildered look.

“Oh, this is Mira—”

“Shut up,” she laughs, dismissing you with a small wave of her hand, “he knows who I am, isn’t that right Yoongi?”

Anger bubbling to the surface, you rise from your seat to find Hana and Mina, only to see them monkeying around, equally drunk. Mira hiccups behind you and you sigh, flopping back down next to Yoongi.

“I think I should get her home.” Before she says something stupid and ruins everything for you.

Grabbing her knee, you reach forward and push back her hair, getting a better look at her face. “How did you guys get here?”

She points somewhere behind her, “Hana’s car.”

You curse, “did she drive here?! Oh my G—” You’re cut off by an awfully familiar sound, quickly taking hold of her elbow and carting her to the entrance before she throws up and embarrasses you even more than she already has.

Hooking your saddle bag over your shoulder, you pass Yoongi an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, I have to get them home. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

He tails you to the entrance, “do you guys need a ride? I can t—”

“No, no,” you refuse, patting Hana’s shoulder, “I’ll call an Uber, thank you. I had so much fun tonight.”

“Me—”

Mira gags from her place under your arm and you rush to take her outside, holding her hair back as she empties the contents of her stomach. Scrunching up your nose, you ask Hana to call an Uber but she insists that she’s not that drunk. Choosing not to worry about them since she doesn’t look as drunk as Mira, your main issue now is to try and get her home.

You want to ask why she came to the bowling center but then you’re taken back to a few months ago where all she ever did was soil your plans of having a good night out. Tonight must be no different.

She’s babbling once you reach your dorm, getting her putrid breath in your face before you slip off her shoes and tuck her in.

Yoongi’s face comes to mind, and you feel terrible for not saying goodbye to the rest of them. Disappointed that you had to leave early. You’re wondering if Mira would do the same for you, then you shoo away that thought because you would never put yourself in that position.

Sad that the night is over already, you’re on your way to the shower when you hear your phone ding.

Scrambling to get your earphones, you plug it in and fall back on your bed, feet planted on the mattress. His face comes into view, sitting up in bed shirtless. You can imagine what he must be doing under that blanket of his. Your pussy clenches around nothing, fingers travelling lower and lower to touch your swollen clit.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he grits, eyeing your boobs through your bra, “let me see them.”

Angling the phone a little lower, you pull the cups under your breasts, hearing him mutter a string of curses under his breath. Readjusting your bra, you spread your legs further and push your panties to the side, unable to hold yourself back any longer as your fingers circle your entrance.

“I’m so fucking hard,” he grunts, looking somewhere below before his eyes are back on you, narrowed in your direction, “playing with that pussy like we talked about? Why don’t you stick a finger in for me. Just one.”

Mouth hanging open, you ease in your index finger, ridged walls clenching around it as you draw it in and out, “need more. Please.”

He chuckles, sweat beading his forehead, “since you asked so nicely, go on then. Stuff another finger in that tight pussy. Bet you wish I was there, using you like my personal little cocksleeve, hm? Wish it was my fat cock stuffing you full instead of your tiny fingers.”

Your walls clamp down on your fingers, clit vibrating under your thumb as you listen to his filthy words, hips gyrating into your hand.

“Want your cock,” you whisper, tongue wetting your lips, “wanna see your cock.”

“Nuh uh, gonna make you cum first. Push those fingers in harder, faster baby, wanna hear you moan my name.”

Following his orders, you feel your slick drip down your ass cheeks, thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit, rolling closer and closer to the edge. Heat overtakes your senses, “Yoongi. I’m close.”

He stares at you with lust-filled eyes, “sit up. On your knees. Bounce for me. That’s it. Good girl. Imagine you were bouncing on my cock like that. Fuck. Keep going. Make yourself cum. Let me hear you.”

Just like the other night, you grind into your hand, curling your fingers deep inside as you spasm and moan, chanting his name, struggling to keep the phone up when your orgasm washes over you, trembling through your high.

“Fuck. So fucking pretty when you cum, that’s it, let me see your hands.”

With flushed cheeks, you hold up your messed hand to the screen, hearing a satisfied growl from his side.

“Just wait for me, okay?”

A bit confused, you lay back down in bed when he cuts the call, silently catching your breath. Around five minutes later and your phone dings, receiving a video of him stroking his cock a few times as he moans and grits your name. For the first time ever, you watch his cock spurt white onto his abdomen, hearing his sinful sounds as he finishes with a prolonged moan of your name. He’s going to be the death of you.

The next afternoon, you’re making your way to the library to print a few things when you see Mira on the other side, busy talking to the librarian. Usually, she would come up to you and you’d leave the library together, but this time, you know she sees you and chooses not to approach you. That’s hilarious, it’s as if you ruined her date.

Once you’re done, you decide to stop at her table on your way out, hoping you can have a little chat about last night because even though you share a room with her, she would do everything in her power to avoid you.

“Hey,” you say, setting down your file before taking the vacant seat next to her, “how are you feeling?”

She shrugs, leaning on her fist, “good.”

“You’re welcome,” you snort, “for last night.”

“I can’t remember anything. How did you even end up at the party?”

With the way she obstructs your view of her face, you can tell she’s lying and guilty.

“Actually,” you begin, “you came over to the bowling center where I was with Yoongi and his friends. Then I had to take you home because you were sick.”

She drops her hand, scribbling on a blank piece of paper, “no way.”

“Yeah. You kind of ruined my date.”

Her fringe pokes into her eyes when she lifts her head, offering a somewhat apologetic frown, “really?”

“Why did you even come there anyway? I was so confused when I saw you.”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles, face unreadable, “Mina wanted to go bowling and—”

You laugh, “all of a sudden?”

She narrows her eyes at you, growing defensive, “yeah? What? You think we only went there because you were there with Yoongi. Please, not everything is about you, okay?”

Bristling at her tone, you decide to drop it, “that’s not what I said but anyway…I’ll see you later.”

The legs of the chair scrape against the flooring as you stand up, seeing her tap the edge of her pen against your file.

“So, you and Yoongi are a thing now?”

Stuffing your file in your bag, you give her a one-shoulder shrug, “guess you can say that.”

“Cool. Well, just thought I should let you know that he literally tried to ask me out last week. I said no, because I thought about you.”

You sigh, scratching the side of your head because you expected her to say some shit like this.

“Mira, I don’t know how to put this in a nice way, but he literally didn’t even know who you were when I spoke about you. He didn’t even know you’re in his chem class.”

She splutters, opening and closing her mouth but you cut her off, fluffing up your bun, “please don’t pull the same shit. You know, what you did with Yeonjun. I actually like Yoongi.”

Blinking twice, she leans back in her chair, “no, I know. That’s nice.”

“Yeah.”

With that, you huff and spin around, tapping your student card on the security pad before exiting. A part of you is a little relieved that you brought up what happened with Yeonjun. But another part of you is mad after seeing her reaction. She treated it as if it was nothing when she secretly had a hand in your break up. But you’re not going to dwell in the past. What’s done is done and perhaps things didn’t work out because you were meant to meet Yoongi—”

“Woah! Someone’s in a hurry.”

Your apologies dissolve on your tongue when you see Yoongi standing a foot away, hands curled around your shoulders.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he flashes his gums, running his hands up and down your arms, “where are you power walking to?”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of last night, a little diffident under his gaze.

“Back to my dorm.”

He glances around you, dropping his hands to grip the balustrades behind him, “were you just at the library? Looking like that?”

“Ye—” your eyebrows furrow, “what do you mean ‘looking like that’?”

His shoulders shake as he laughs, ginger hair caught between his fingers, “no I’m just saying. You’re all dressed up to go to the library?”

You brush past him, scoffing under your breath, “I dress up for myself. Thank you very much.”

Despite the vicious eyeroll, you heart skips a beat when he grabs your arm, tugging you closer to him.

“No,” he says in an undertone, gaze drifting over your figure, “you look pretty.”

You giggle when he touches the curls atop your head, “I like this—” gripping the strap on your bag tighter when his thumb swipes across your chin “—and the lip gloss.”

Leaning into his touch when he cups your cheek, you give him a compliment of your own. Telling him how attractive he looks wearing denim.

“Where are you off to?”

You fall in stride with him, a little distracted by the hand curled around your ribs.

“I was heading to Taehyung’s place but I’m kinda hungry,” he turns to you, “wanna grab something to eat?”

Now that he mentions it, you have been feeling a little peckish, “sure.”

Deciding to eat at the restaurant not too far from campus, you both share a medium-sized serving of tteokbokki, wiping sauce off each other’s faces. Oddly comfortable with each other.

“How did you get into ASMR?”

He pokes into the bowl with his chopsticks, speaking around a mouthful, “it was kind of like an inside joke between the guys, then I realized that I really…liked it. So, I decided to make my own videos.”

You nod, dabbing the corners of your mouth with a tissue, “the guys know about your ASMR page?”

“Yeah.”

“And what about—”

“Nope,” he winks, “just you.”

“Really? Wouldn’t they be able to find it?” You question genuinely, patting your now full belly, “you know, I basically found the link on your Youtube page.”

He shrugs, calling for the waitress with a curl of his fingers, “they don’t really watch my videos. Jungkook said he’s gonna start a Tiktok page for my videos, but I said no.”

“Why not?”

“Too complicated for me.”

You snort, “yeah. Plus, with Youtube the videos can be as long as you want.”

After arguing for nearly ten minutes about who should pay the bill, he managed to snatch it out of your hands and promised you could pay next time. Next time. It’s dark outside once you leave the restaurant and he says you could walk to his apartment since it’s not too far. You don’t know when you both made the decision that you would be going to his apartment after, but you’re not complaining.

The evening breeze sweeps across your back as you stroll down the sidewalk, spotting a few kids lining up around the mobile rides set up for Christmas.

“Those should’ve been gone by now,” you chuckle, pointing to the makeshift sleigh.

He follows your line of sight, calloused palm slotted in yours like second nature, “guess they kept it because the kids like it so much. Do you wanna get a picture?”

Walking around the twinkling lights, he hops onto the carousel first then extends his hands for you to grab, yanking you up before gesturing for you to sit on one of the horses. You throw your leg over, giving him a few poses while he crouches to snap the perfect picture. Once you’re done giggling and messing around, you return to his side to swipe at the photos. He caught all your good angles.

“You look good,” he grins, stuffing his phone back inside his pocket.

Leaning up to cup your hand around his ear, you make sure he hears you say, “you know what I’d look better riding on.”

He snaps away to look at you in disbelief, a mischievous grin matching your own. His gaze flickers to your lips, heat in his eyes as you lean in closer.

“Hey! What are you two doing up there?!”

“Oh shit.”

The furious security guard holds the flashlight up as Yoongi jumps down then grabs your hips to pull you over the railing, fingers intertwining with yours before you dash away from the scene. You know you’re out of range, but you can’t stop laughing as you run, following Yoongi blindly down the street and up a flight of stairs. Once you reach the top, he fiddles with a ring of keys before shoving the door open, darkness filling the inside.

As you’re taking in your surroundings, spotting a single armchair and a couch to your right, you’re being pressed into a wall, Yoongi’s lips on your neck, still breathless.

“You love teasing me, don’t you?”

Wordlessly, he tugs on the strings of your lilac shirt, exposing your skin to him before suckling down your neck, stopping just above the tops of your breasts. Your senses are overwhelmed by him, anticipation building with each second because it’s finally going to happen. You let your bag fall to the floor, kicking off your sneakers as he spreads your legs open.

His lips graze the shell of your ear and you jerk away, shoulder held up to your face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you breathe, sight slowly adjusting to the darkness, “just…my ears are sensitive.”

He pecks your cheek, thumbs pressing into your sides as he holds you in place, “I’ll be gentle.”

“Okay.”

That’s all he needs to hear before his tongue darts out to lick your earlobe, all your senses heighten when he juts his hips forward, feeling his heavy bulge against your stomach. He nips at the shell of your ear and a moan climbs up your throat, long nails curling into his biceps when he whispers your name, hearing him take labored breaths.

“Can I touch you?”

You swallow thickly, eyes scrunching shut, “yes.”

He undoes the button on your jeans, dragging down the zipper ever so slowly before cupping your pussy through your panties, drawing a muted gasp from your lips.

“Hmm so wet, does teasing me turn you on that much?”

Your eyelids flutter when he suckles on the skin below your ear, rolling his palm into your puffy clit as his lips move higher, biting down harder on your earlobe.

“Yoongi,” you pant, spreading your legs open wider for his easy access, silently asking for more.

You’re being pushed back on what you assume is the armrest of the couch, legs pried open when he slots himself between them and shoves his hand into your panties, free hand gripping your hip to guide you into his rough hand, now slick with your juices. You throw your head back, hands flat behind you as you grind into his palm, moaning when he finally presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is a messy mix of tongue and teeth, hands sliding into his hair to pull him closer, his groans reverberate through his chest to have more of your slick dripping into his hand. His teeth catch on your lower lip, tongue sliding over yours wantonly before he pulls away with a lewd smack, peeling your jeans off your legs.

You’re glad you decided to shave this morning, that thought alone is enough to remind you that you are definitely not imagining all this and Yoongi, the man of your dreams, is kissing up your inner thighs, inhaling deeply through his nose as he stares at your panties with unbridled lust. Long, knuckly fingers keep your legs open. He mouths around your clit and you cry out, bucking into his face.

“You smell— shit.”

Your eyes widen, chin hitting your chest as you peer at him through heavy eyes, “what?”

He’s pulling you to your feet, throwing your jeans over his shoulder before dragging you down a hallway and into a room on the left. The door slams shut and you’re being tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll, flipped onto your stomach.

“Yoongi, what’s going ah—”

In a split second, your panties are off and he’s pulling your ass up in the air, head sagging between your shoulders when his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks, hard. Not giving you time to catch your breath as his tongue laves over your leaking slit, thumbs rubbing and spreading your swollen folds.

He speaks into your cunt, lips attached to your throbbing clit, “mmm—thought I heard someone coming—mmm.”

Your eyes roll back at his constant humming, the vibrations surging through you with each molten lick of his tongue, slurping up your juices that continue to leak out of you, clenching around his chin. His hand comes down on your ass, massaging the rippling flesh after only to do it again.

Nails grabbing at the sheets, you can’t help but grind on his tongue, screaming out his name when he pinches your clit between his fingers, nose pressing into your hole.

“Gonna cum so quick, hmm? Greedy little slut wants to grind on my tongue.”

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you cry out, reaching back to push his head forward, “please.”

Lips returning to your clit, he drags his mouth up, tongue lashing at your cunt before he moves further up, stopping near your puckered hole.

Your head falls forward, moans muffled by the pillow as he continues to eat you out, a mix of his spit and your slick dripping down your thighs when his thumb rubs over your other hole, tongue darting inside your pussy before he eases two fingers inside you, finding that spot deep inside with ease. Jaw going slack, you feel sweat collect under your shirt, hair a mess as you tremble, body going taut as he fucks his fingers into you at a ruthless pace, building your high with his mouth on your other hole while he draws his hand back to tap your clit, harder and harder before it all comes crashing down and you cum on his tongue.

He chuckles loudly, the tip of his tongue poking through before you hear him suckle noisily, fingers still fucking you through your high. As your convulsions recede to slow tremors, you whine in overstimulation when he purses his lips around your clit and wiggles his head from side to side, smacking your ass again when you tug on his hair.

“I’ll let you have that one,” he smiles, flipping you onto your back when you hear the jingle of his belt, “since you tasted so fucking good.”

Through bleary eyes, you watch him tug off his shirt and jeans, clad in his white boxer briefs. Your clothes come off too, joining his in the corner before you’re being lifted with a hand on the back of your head, a fresh wave of arousal taking over you as you fall to your knees in front of his thick, girthy cock, twitching in its confines.

His jaw is set, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes when your fingers creep up his thighs, seeing his muscles flex when you blow on the outline.

You feel your pussy clench uncontrollably when he slaps your left cheek, no sense of playfulness in the gesture when he does it again to the other one, even harder the third time. Even more turned on by having him touch you like this.

“Don’t tease slut, get my cock out and suck.”

Eager to please, you roll the band of his underwear down and let it fall to the floor, setting your hands on your thighs when he grips the base and guides the tip to your face, smearing the bead of precum collected at the tip on your cheeks and chin.

You moan, jaw unhinging as you keep your mouth open, ready to take his cock.

“Look at you,” he grits, tapping the head on your tongue, “all sticky. My sticky little whore.”

Before you can agree, your mouth is being filled with his cock, eyes screwing shut when the tip hits the back of your throat before your breaths even out through your nostrils, reaching up to grab his thighs. He pulls out, watching you take in a few mouthfuls of air before his fingers sink into your hair and his cock is being forced back into your mouth, tongue dragging down the veins feverishly.

He sucks in strained breaths through gritted teeth, balls slapping your chin as he flexes his hips into your face, spit dripping down the sides of your mouth. You’re all too pleased to have him fuck your throat, egged on by the delicious sounds he makes whenever you swallow around him. You feel him grow in your mouth, tongue swirling around the throbbing veins.

“Fuck, feels better than I imagined,” he moans, head lolling back before it rolls forward once again, unable to tear his gaze away from how your lips are wrapped out his cock, “knew you’d be a good little cocksleeve. Letting me fuck your mouth like this. Do you like having me use your mouth?”

Tears prickling the corners of your eyes, you nod, hollowing out your cheeks to hear him curse. You shake your head vigorously, keeping him buried far back in your throat as your tongue pokes out to lick at his balls, pulling back to take a deep breath then reaching up to roll your fist around the base, flicking his frenulum with the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck, so fucking good. Go—” He shivers, yanking your head back with his hold on your hair “—gonna cum. You gonna swallow all of it, you hear me?”

Your voice is hoarse, throat burning when you whisper a small, “want your cum.”

He laughs, low and husky, a light sheen of sweat dotting his chest when he leans forward. You don’t take him in your mouth straight away, instead, you push your boobs together, watching his face contort into pure pleasure when you move them up and down over his length, an excessive amount of precum spilling onto your chest.

“Fuck, fuck,” he breathes, fucking into your boobs with sharp snaps of his hips. Muttering out your name just as you dip your head to split the tip with your tongue, reaching down to massage the sensitive skin of his balls.

A drawn-out groan is all the warning you get, you close your mouth around the tip and grip the base, pumping him a few times as he spills into your mouth with shallow thrusts. You swallow every last drop, drinking him in before he grunts and his fingers twist in your hair, pulling you up to your feet. You’re a tangle of limbs as you collapse onto the bed, relishing in the feel of his weight on your body.

“I’m clean, you?”

You search his eyes, getting up to speed, “yeah but don’t—”

He mouths up your jaw, licking over the tender bruises he made earlier, “I won’t. Sit on my cock.”

Unable to fight the grin that splits your face, you move down the length of his body and face forward, finding a dim reflection of yourself in the mirror placed a few feet away from the bed. He sits up against the headboard, chest still heaving as he props one hand behind his head.

He lets you guide the head of his cock to his entrance, reaching around you to twist and tug at your nipples. You gasp once you push the tip in, hearing him curse as you take him in to the hilt, planting your feet on the mattress before bouncing up and down.

“Fucking hell,” he moans, now holding both your boobs as you roll your hips back and forward, overcome by the sensation of his cock splitting you open, hitting all the right spots, “look so fucking good bouncing on my cock like this. Wait, wait—”

You fall back, sweaty chest meeting your back as you grip his chin, tongue parting the seam of his lips, “what?”

He breathes into your mouth, still kneading your breasts, “fuck, I almost came. Go slow.”

You bend forward, resting your hands on his knees as you roll your hips, moaning at the feel of his cock rubbing against that sensitive spot deep inside you, “like this?”

“Yes,” he grunts, meeting each roll of your hip by lifting his, cock going deeper than you expected, “fuck yes.”

You sit like that for a good while, thighs going weak as he fucks you slow and deep, teeth sinking into the skin of your back. Your walls clamp down on him, eyes glazing over as you try to stave off your orgasm. His fingers wrap around your throat, cutting off your oxygen as his teeth drags up the shell of your ear when he hooks his thumb into the side of your cheek.

“Like it when I fuck you like this?”

Body flaring with pleasure, you let him push you forward, meeting his eyes in the mirror before he sets one foot on the bed and starts to fuck you hard and fast.

“Can’t talk? That’s it, fuck back on my cock. My personal little fucktoy. Fuck.”

The sight alone is enough to have you cry out his name, biting down on a pillow as he drags his cock in and out of your dripping alone with renewed energy, twitching and throbbing deep inside you.

“Yeah, squeeze it. So fucking tight for me. You like it when I call you mine, huh? My little slut. My pussy.”

The sounds of your moans coupled with his skin meeting yours harshly causes your eyes to slip shut in bliss, legs spread far apart when he reaches between your legs to rub at your clit.

“Fuck come on baby, cum on my cock. Be a good slut and cum.”

After nearly three weeks of watching his stream, one thing you learned how to do was cum on command, drugged by the sound of his voice, the feel of his hands on your skin, cock filling you to the brim. You think you lose hearing in your left ear when you cum in explosive waves, walls quivering around him before you’re being twisted onto your back and his cock slips out. He hunches over your spent figure, grabbing at your throat when he mutters your name softly, giving his cock a few tugs.

You watch with ravenous eyes, gasping when his fingers tighten around your throat and he releases, cum covering your whole stomach, your tits and neck.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, eyes closing momentarily. His softening cock slips out of his hand, and he falls on top of you, face buried in your neck.

Laying there in fading ecstasy, you wrap your arms around his sinewy shoulders, kissing up the side of his neck when he turns his head slightly to look at you, eyes heavy.

“Gimme those lips.”

Tipping your chin up, you hum dreamily as he moves his mouth over yours, cuddling you daintily into his chest when he rolls you over. Your thighs feel like jelly, heart a puddle of mush when he begins to pepper kisses all over your face.

“What are you doing?” You giggle, fighting him off weakly but still enjoying the attention.

He cocks an eyebrow, “what? Can’t I kiss my girl?”

“Your girl?”

Glancing at your neck, he nods, drawing circles on your skin, “yeah, my girl.”

“Since when?” You tease, booping his nose lightly.

His feline eyes turn serious, pouty lips parted slightly, “since a few moments ago.”

“I don’t remember you asking me,” you prod, grimacing slight at the cum drying on your chest.

“Oh, well…”

“Well…?”

He smirks, “you love teasing me, don’t you?”

“I do,” you chirp, a suggestive smile on your face, “in all senses of the word.”

You drag a hand through his wet hair, about to tell him how handsome he looks with his hair pushed back when he takes the same hand and brings it up to his lips, placing a lingering kiss on each digit.

“Will you be my girl?”

Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you nod, dazed by the sparks in his eyes when you whisper, “yes.”

His lips stretch into his signature gummy smile, eyes crinkling when you place a kiss on the tip of his nose. You’re dizzy with excitement, nuzzling into his neck as you wrap your legs around his torso. His voice is muffled but you still hear him, broken from your spell.

“But you got to stop teasing me.”

“Never.”

❝which scene was your favorite? mine was the lollipop scene bc it was based on a true story 🥴♡❞

a/n — please, if you liked this drop a like/reblog/send me an ask so we can chat about it <3

⤺masterlist

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