#both males and females available

[mirokuna-hime]

I know that Stelle and Caelus are the same character but they have completely different personalities in my head.

Stelle is that "no thoughts behind these eyes" emotionally disconnected chaos racoon that repeats everything that March says to annoy her and likes to make media references. She also has no sense of fear or danger.

Caelus meanwhile is a lot more focused, responsible and emotionally engaged, equally sassy as Stelle but much more motivated by money, a bit arrogant but has his heart in the right place.

[brella-boi]

I forgor to post about this pin

The Gynandromorphic Angel Beetle is now available in my store!

This was a guest design from the Pride Angels campaign led by @ultrainfinitepit that I had the wonderful opportunity to be part of.

For pride month I would also like to get an alt colourway for it using the nonbinary flag.

What is Gynandromorphism? It is when an insect displays both male and female characteristincs, split right down the center of the body. A very unique yet natural phenomenon in the wild!

[reasonsforhope]

"In an unprecedented success for conservation efforts, a tiny population of Guam kingfishers given a new home has laid its first eggs—after 40 years of the species being extinct in the wild.

Exterminated from its Guam island home by invasive brown tree snakes, the kingfisher, known by Guam locals as a ‘sihek’, has survived entirely in captivity, managed by a global collaboration of conservationists called the Sihek Recovery Program.

The program introduced the birds to the Palmyra Atoll thousands of miles from Guam in order to create a wild-born population that can regain natural skills until their native island has been cleared of the invasive reptile—and the sihek can return to its ancestral home.

GNN reported in September of 2022 that 20 sihek eggs were set to be transferred to Hawaii to be born in an aviary with conditions and flora similar to that of Palmyra Atoll.

The journey to recovery would be long, complex, and in some ways unprecedented. In order to reduce the risk of foreign germs or parasites spreading to atoll, the resulting sihek chicks were going to be hand-reared until 9 of them could be transferred in cages to Palmyra.

After getting their “ticket to ride” by the vet traveling with them, they would finally be able to return to the wilderness. But the program teams didn’t know which of the available prey species the sihek will favor, didn’t know what time of year, considering the 365-day perfect temperatures, the birds will breed, or how far they would disperse.

But despite the miles and the unknowns, their remarkable release last autumn was a success by any reasonable metric. Four female and five male birds quickly explored their new home, learning how to forage and hunt new prey within the tropical forest.

Four pairs have since established territories, built nests, and laid eggs, marking the first time the species has bred in the wild since its extinction from Guam in the 1980s...

Pictured: First confirmed wild-laid sihek eggs in almost 40 years

With the mated pairs less than a year old, this is their first time incubating and caring for eggs, meaning it’s likely it will take a few rounds of egg laying for the birds to hone their skills and hatch chicks, a statement from ZSL read. Nonetheless, these eggs demonstrate both the tremendous resilience of these remarkable birds and the power of conservation to create a second chance for species on the brink of extinction.

“After many long days last year looking after these birds when they were just tiny eggs and chicks, it’s so rewarding to see them beginning their journey towards raising their own chicks in the forests of Palmyra Atoll,” Charlotte James, one of the London Zoo bird keepers who hand-reared the birds.

“It’s hard not to feel like a proud parent seeing them out there thriving and making history—and an honor to be part of the ongoing mission to bring sihek back from the brink of extinction.”

Plans are underway for more young sihek to be released at Palmyra Atoll this summer. Egg laying season is underway at participating (Association of Zoos and Aquariums) AZA-accredited institutions across the US. As they grow to maturity, these chicks will also journey to Palmyra, with the ultimate goal of establishing ten breeding pairs there. The wild sihek at Palmyra Atoll will pave the way for a growing, wild sihek population for the first time in decades.

Then maybe, just maybe, at some point in the distant future, the descendants of these birds who’ve regained their wild skills will be able to practice them on the island of their origin once again."

-via Good News Network, April 26, 2025

[yoonia]

nefarious (m) | pjm

Summary | Welcome to Club La Rouge, where your sexual fantasies come to life.  Accepting his offer might cause inconveniences for both of you, but do you really have it in you to say no? 

⟶ Title | Nefarious; In Motion - a side story ⟶ Pairings | Jimin x female reader (with POV changes) ⟶ Genre | Sex Club!au, Gentlemen Club!au, Club host/escort! Jimin, Smut ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; scenes of nudity, male strippers, usage of alcohol (minor, no drunk sex), D/s dynamic, contains strong BDSM content!, explicit sexual scene, including: mentions of voyeurism, exhibitionism, mention of masturbation/mutual masturbation, brief depiction of deepthroating, praise/praise kink, pain kink, Dom!Jimin, sub!reader, pet names/endearment, sensory play, bondage/restraint, spanking, pussy slapping, punishments, clamps/nipple clamps, biting, sex toys, body worshipping, breast play, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), clit play, edging, begging, crying, orgasm denial, orgasm control, forced orgasm, hair pulling, rough sex, manhandling, ass play/rimming, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, brief depiction of reader/OC entering a headspace, aftercare. ⟶ Story Note | While this story is connected directly to the original plot of In Motion, this story can be read as a standalone. For those who are reading In Motion, the scenes in this piece may take place in a similar timeline as the main story (after the epilogue). Thank you for @pars-ley and @lo1k-diamonds for helping with beta reading parts of this. Special thanks to @cafekitsune for the mdni divider. ⟶ Author’s Note | I’ve been planning this story for a while, ever since Jimin appeared at the final chapters of In Motion and then again in The Dark Room, but it took a whole year for me to finish this one. I initially wanted to publish this to celebrate my birthday and Jimin’s last October, but a lot of things happened since then and this story ended up being postponed for a long time. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this story, whether or not you have read the entire In Motion instalment. Additional warning: please remember to hydrate while reading!  ⟶ Word count | 39,246 words ⟶ Posted on: Jan 10th, 2025 by @yoonia

⟶ In Motion: the masterlist | Music playlist and visual concept | Read on AO3 ⟶ Main masterlist | Navigation | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi

𝕮𝖑𝖚𝖇 𝕷𝖆 𝕽𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖊

Welcome to our establishment. Let us introduce our little treat for you to indulge in—

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

Your host and personal contact will notify you personally to confirm your appointment for your private session, according to the prearrangement made on the night of registration or during the session schedule’s booking. You must confirm your availability within one hour of the arranged schedule. If the attendee fails to confirm their availability on time, then the opportunity to join the session will be passed on to the next club member on the waiting list who fits the same preferences.

During the arrangement of your private session, please remember to confirm your preferences or individual requirements needed for your session with your host. The host will use your details to find the perfect partner among exclusive members of the club to pair you with during your session.

Both your identity and your potential partner’s will remain anonymous until the session begins, and you are required to maintain your anonymity throughout the entire session held within the property of Club La Rouge. 

Once you are escorted into the allocated room for your arranged session, you will have free rein to use the room however you deem appropriate for your session. The timer will be set starting from the moment the ambience lights within the room are turned on. Both attendees are allowed to utilise the provided tools and necessities presented inside the room. Any personal items taken from outside of the club will not be allowed inside the Play Room and will be confiscated immediately if discovered by the hosts. 

You may discuss your choice of safe words with your partner once you are in the room or before the session officially begins. Please remember to notify your selection of safe words and passwords to your host once you are set to begin. The hosts will only open the doors once the session officially ends or whenever the safe word is announced by an attendee. 

The hosts will have the authority to stop the session if the safety of either attendee is compromised. An alert button will be available in the room to be utilised by either attendee when they feel unsafe during the session and the safe word is unable to be used. Once the alert button is used, the host will cease the session and take over to secure the attendee in question.

If any violation of the rules above occurs within the session, the attendee in question will be escorted out of the premises and their name will be added to our blacklist.

Any other mutual arrangements that may occur after the arranged session will no longer be our concern.

—You—

Your chest feels constricted. 

Never once have you felt this kind of humiliation before. Let alone experiencing it in a place like this. 

Club La Rouge has been known as a prestigious club that takes good care of its members. Ever since you joined them a year ago, you have been experiencing first-hand just how well the club takes the matters of your needs and pleasure as their priority. Never once had they ever failed to help satiate your desire with their service. 

Until tonight. 

As a club that aspires to bring people’s most sinful wishes and dreams to reality, Club La Rouge has never left you feeling disappointed. This is the reason why you have been coming back here, relying on them to channel your hidden desires. To provide you with a chance and a safe space where you can freely explore them without having to reveal your secrets to the world. 

That was the reason why you had arranged for a special session tonight in your favourite venture—the Play Room. 

You needed an escape. A relief from your strenuous life, and being here, making use of the club’s benefits such as the Play Room as an avenue to express yourself in a fashion that you would never dare to do in real life, has been helping you to live out your fantasy in the best possible way one could imagine. So far, you have been quite lucky to be able to venture and live out your fantasy through the sessions that you have had in the club. 

So the moment your plans turn into a complete mess, you cannot help but wonder if you have finally run out of luck. Because there is no possible way that the first time the club makes a mistake like this, it just has to happen on the night you come for an arrangement which you have been anticipating the most. 

“I am terribly sorry. This is truly our fault.”  

You bite back any response waiting to escape your lips. Frustrated and annoyed would be an understatement. The female host’s apology and simple explanation do little to help when you are standing here with your hopes crumbling to pieces.  

The poor girl working on the concierge desk also looks too pitiful—so obvious that not even her lacy mask can hide it—that you have no idea what to say. Would it be fair for you to be angry at her about this? Would it be right to file a complaint or ask to see their manager?

Is the manager even available tonight? He should be. He is your host and sponsor, after all. 

You look around, hoping to see the familiar figure that has always been there ever since the first day you became a member of the club. The club doesn’t look as busy as usual—which isn’t surprising for a weeknight—and the female host seems to be the only one handling the registration tonight. It makes you doubt that he would be here tonight at all. 

In the end, the only thing you can do is exhale a deep, heavy sigh and close your eyes, forcing yourself to find some calmness rather than making a scene out of nothing. You just need a moment to wrap your mind around the situation that you just found yourself in. 

“Let me get this straight. What you’re saying is—” you keep your voice calm and steady as you try to understand the situation better, “Not only did the person you set me up with for tonight’s session cancel their RSVP at the last minute, the person who was supposed to be next in line and was said to also fit my criteria was also a no-show?” 

There is a bite in your voice that you cannot control. You still refuse to believe that your potential partner—who was personally chosen by the club—had completely bailed on you. Possibly because of hearing the details of your request. 

As much as you want to deny this awful situation from happening, putting the situation into words only makes it more real. Looking at the hostess’s fearful eyes that her delicate mask has failed to hide doesn’t take away the bitterness you feel inside. 

The female host opens her mouth, then shuts down before she says anything, while looking more nervous as the seconds tick by. You almost feel guilty for inciting this kind of reaction from her. Almost. But you are too angry to care, and if you are being honest, you are looking for a scapegoat. If those cowards aren’t here to be on the receiving end of your wrath, then the person who is now standing before you can take it on their behalf. 

“I’m afraid that is quite correct. Well—partially,” she slowly explains, while her voice grows smaller when she sees you raising your eyebrow. “As I previously mentioned, a part of this incident may have been our fault.” 

You shake your head. “Please explain to me so I can understand.” 

The hostess nods before she begins explaining the process that occurred after you phoned your host—her manager—this morning about opening a private session in the Play Room. Once you have given him your specifics, including your special request and requirements for your session tonight, it was your main host’s duty to relay the details, while the club’s system filtered through the club members’ list to find someone who would fit your criteria and would be available for the night. 

“We’ve contacted your first potential partner within the hour your request came in, who immediately RSVP’d his availability for tonight's session. But then he cancelled in the afternoon, claiming that he wasn’t able to join the session as he felt it was—” the hostess looks uncomfortable as she continues, “something that he wasn’t looking to get into for the time being.” 

You let out a scoff. “Ah, so the poor man got cold feet once he learned about the details I requested for the appointment?” 

Speaking it out loud only makes you want to laugh even harder. It’s not like you gave an outlandish request when you made your appointment. Many others have even more peculiar sexual fetishisms to play around with in the Play Room—like those involving fetishes by worshipping certain body parts or using inanimate objects to pleasure themselves with, such as food and other inanimate objects—so hearing such reasons to cancel an appointment seems laughable. 

“I still don’t see how that would be your fault.” 

The only thing that you could think of regarding the situation is that either the club had chosen the wrong club member as your partner, misreading his personal preferences as something that matched your own, or the man had lied about his details in his registration form so that the club had mistakenly thought he would be the perfect match for you. 

“What about the other one? The—replacement?” 

“Well, you see—” The hostess stops to clear her throat before explaining the situation further, “Once we received the cancellation from your original partner, our system immediately proceeded to find the next person in our list that would fit the criteria to be your potential partner in tonight’s session, and then pass on the invitation through his personal host who will then help us confirm his availability.” 

With a deep inhale of breath, the hostess continues, “The problem was, that once the host failed to contact the appointed member through a phone call, they had proceeded to contact him through email. The system was supposed to wait until the member sent in their RSVP or replied back to let us know that he would be available for the night, and only then would the host in charge pass on the information and have the club arrange the session with both of you as partners.” 

“Let me guess, that’s where everything went south?” 

The hostess gives you a remorseful smile. “Unfortunately, that is exactly what happened,” she explains gently. “Our system had mistakenly confirmed his attendance and RSVP’d on his behalf before we ever truly received any direct response from the club member regarding his availability for tonight’s session. The staff who handled the arrangement never thought to double-check with the system or the hosts who were responsible as both yours and the other member’s contacts before contacting you to inform you that we have found a partner for you.” 

You feel like ripping your hair out in frustration or pinching the bridge of your nose to calm yourself, except that you had spent hours fixing your hair that it would be such a waste to mess it with your own hands, while you also have a thick, lacy mask covering your face which you aren’t supposed to take off for the rest of the night. 

Feeling like there is no hope, you let a bitter laugh escape from your lips. “So I suppose I should just go home now?” 

— Jimin —

As your personal host and direct contact who is responsible for being the mediator between you and Club La Rouge, Jimin should have been there at the concierge desk to welcome you for your appointment. It was by chance that he had just stepped away from his counter to have a short break when his phone pinged with a notification, alerting him of your early arrival after your membership card was scanned at the front desk. 

Jimin had been the one to set up the appointment and prepared the Play Room for your session himself, so he should be the one welcoming you and then escorting you to the room himself. But he has his own reasons to step away and find some space before coming to face you. 

After handling your previous sessions over the year you have become a member, Jimin knew to expect something new added to your request when you called in to arrange a session in the Play Room. You have always been curious, after all. Always quite adventurous when it comes to channeling your sexual desires, in finding out new ways to express your sexuality while trying to find what works for you and what the club might be able to provide in your sexual explorations. 

But your request had been an unexpected one that caught him by surprise upon hearing it the first time. Jimin even had to confirm it with you repeatedly on the phone call you made this morning to make sure, nearly causing you to laugh at his reaction. 

Your requirements hadn’t been an extraordinary one. Not by the club’s standard, at least, as Jimin had witnessed and arranged many others that made him appreciate the club’s policy of upholding its member’s secrecy and discretion. Yet, your request was enough to bring out an old itch that is begging for a scratch.

That was why he felt the need to get away, to regain his composure before facing you. Before his thoughts—everything that he deemed forbidden to even think about as one of the club’s representatives to an esteemed member of the club—gets in the way of his duties. 

Not being there when you first arrived is one thing that he feels regretful of the most. Then he regrets it even more when he rushes back, just in time to find out about the predicament that you are met with at the concierge desk. 

Jimin hears enough and curses under his breath, realising what had happened and understanding where things might have gone wrong. He knows exactly who—or what—to blame. 

He, of all people, should have known better than to rely simply on the club’s automated system to handle these things. 

Back then, Jimin and the other hosts had done things manually; from matching the club members with the right partners for each scheduled appointment, arranging the private sessions and the exclusive events, to scouting potential members and finding the perfect benefit that would help them find pleasure so they would keep returning to the club to gain more.  

Over the past few years, however, the club has grown substantially. With more members joining, and new ventures and benefits to offer being added, the hosts have become so overwhelmed with overlapping duties. It then prompted the owners to introduce the new system to assist the hosts in handling the club’s business. 

So far, the automated system has been working well enough without causing trouble for the hosts. It has been making things easy when it comes to matching up club members as partners for closed and private sessions held in the club’s special rooms, and dealing with last-minute cancellations—just like the situation that you are currently in. Although it doesn’t take away the hosts’ responsibilities in making sure that things remain in order. 

That was what he was supposed to do with your appointment tonight; to double check on the booking process and follow up with both the system and the hosts involved to make sure that things will go on smoothly. He is your main host, after all, and it is his responsibility to keep you satisfied with the club’s service in tending to your needs. He shouldn’t have relied solely on the computers and the other hosts to handle your arrangement. 

“So I suppose I should just go home now?”

Your voice echoes through the hallway as Jimin begins approaching you. Hearing the bite in your voice, he feels a tight pinch in his chest, as he feels as if he has failed you. 

Jimin knows that he shouldn’t care this much for a member of the club, and yet he cannot stop himself. 

It would be a complete lie to say that he doesn’t have a soft spot for you. Jimin has no idea if what he feels is some kind of attraction, or simply amusement. Whatever it is, he cannot deny that he enjoys every moment he hosts your presence at the club. He even finds pleasure in fulfilling your various requests each time you call in for an appointment with the club, always guessing what would be the next thing you want to try or learn, and matching you with the right person among other club members to fulfil your needs. 

And that is why the idea of sending you home without giving you exactly what you needed tonight seems preposterous. 

Determined to fix everything for you, Jimin secures his mask and fixes his suit, getting himself in order as he joins you at the concierge desk. 

“Good evening, Miss ____,” he gently greets you with a smile, and he takes great pleasure in seeing your shoulders slumping in relief at the sound of his voice. Your gaze softens even before you turn to look at him, which makes his smile grow wider. 

There is always a tender look in your eyes whenever you see him. Oftentimes mixed with a tinge of amusement or absolute joy. Jimin knows that he shouldn’t read too much into it, but he would be lying if he ever said that he doesn’t enjoy seeing it coming from you. 

“Let me take it from here, Saki. Thank you for covering for me while I was gone. You’ve done well,” Jimin says to the female host who had taken over Jimin’s station in his absence. He feels guilty for placing her in such a predicament when it wasn’t even her responsibility to handle this kind of situation. The barely-concealed sigh of relief that Jimin sees from the poor girl drives that guilt sinking deeper in his chest. 

With a nod, Saki turns to apologise to you one last time before making her way to the back office. Jimin waits until the girl is out of sight before he speaks, 

“I’m sorry I missed you. I had to step out for a moment,” he finds himself explaining before he can stop it. “I just heard what happened to your dates. I apologise for such an unpleasant evening. As your host, I will personally take full responsibility for this mistake.” 

Jimin holds back a wince, even if he truly means it. He really does feel responsible for allowing this to happen, yet you seem to think differently when you immediately shake your head. “No, there is no need to go that far. Bad things like this can happen to anyone,” you kindly say to him, though Jimin isn’t quite sure if you are trying to appease him or convince yourself. 

Because the disappointment you feel is still clear in your voice, also in your eyes, and in the deep sigh coming out of your lips when you murmur under your breath, “Unfortunately, it was just my pure luck that this had to happen to me.” 

Clenching his hands, Jimin holds back from reaching out to you and musters a smile. “Once again, I would like to apologise on behalf of the club and the staff. Why don’t you take a seat in the waiting area for a moment?” he offers you while gesturing towards the small lounge nearby, “I’ll see if I can arrange something so your visit tonight won’t be such a waste.” 

You look sceptical for a moment, which Jimin can understand. Even with the advanced system, it would be impossible for Jimin to scout through the available male members of the club to find anyone who would be able to fill in as your partner tonight, much less to send a sudden invitation for a late-night private session. But, to his relief, you ask no more questions and agree to let him do his work. 

Jimin guides you himself to the small waiting lounge; a private space near his station which is often used for guests who are waiting for their turn to use the special rooms. Once you are settled, Jimin rushes back to his desk with your membership card in hand, hoping that he can somehow find a way to salvage the night for you. 

It’s for the sake of the club’s reputation, he tries to remind himself, as he keeps forcing him to remember that he needs to solve this for the club’s interest, not a personal favour. 

It doesn’t take more than five minutes for Jimin to find everything he needs. First, by confirming Saki’s statement about the other staff’s mistakes and how the automated matchmaking system had screwed everyone over. Second, to confirm his suspicions about not being able to fix it the way he wanted. 

But that doesn’t stop him from trying to make things right. 

He spends another five minutes on his computer to find the right solution before joining you in the waiting area. “As my assistant, Saki, explained, the club member that the system had listed as your substitute partner for the night never RSVP’d back to our invitation to join tonight’s private session that you requested. The member’s personal contact should have done her due diligence in making sure that he was available to attend before contacting the staff handling your reservation, and I should have followed up with the process before updating you,” he gently explains, “The fault is entirely ours. On behalf of the club, and for my own mistakes, I would like to apologise.” 

Once again, a look of defeat is written on your face, and Jimin’s heart plummets with more guilt. To his surprise, you still manage to put a smile on your face when you respond, “It’s fine. I guess things aren’t meant to be.” 

If Jimin felt doubtful about his insistence in helping you, that feeling fades the moment he catches the resigned sigh escaping your lips. 

Hearing this, and feeling the tightness in his chest, he realises that not only is he constantly drawn to you whenever you are near—when you are in the same room, same space, or simply present somewhere in the club’s property while he is working in the hour—he also has been feeling quite protective of you. 

Just like how he is adamant about helping you tonight, he has always been more attentive to your needs. Oftentimes, he would find himself getting reckless, involving himself in your deals and arrangements with the club in channelling your raw desire. 

Jimin has long realised how unhealthy this was becoming. When knowing the kinds of sexual exploits that you have been seeking through the club so far has only caused him to be on the edge each time you return for new arrangements, always making him wary about the risks you would be taking as you enter one of these sex rooms with these other guests that the club had chosen for you. 

Complete strangers hiding behind intricately designed masks and anonymity as they share a private moment with you behind these closed doors. 

Jimin hates to admit it, but aside from the sinking feeling of guilt, he also feels somewhat relieved that your private session was unsuccessful tonight. 

If only your appointed partner had shown up, Jimin would have been the one sending you off to your room by now, and then left wondering if your partner would be doing a good job in fulfilling your needs, instead of sitting here with you, enjoying this little chat while admiring your smile—albeit not as radiant and alluring as it usually does. 

“Still, it doesn’t mean that your night needs to end now,” he says, which draws another sceptical look from you. 

Still, he manages to also draw a small, warmer smile showing on your face when you question him, “Oh, really? How so?” 

Jimin returns your smile as he leans closer, holding your membership card between his fingers. “Because I’ve made sure that you’ll have a way to enjoy the rest of the evening instead of returning home.” 

His smile grows wider when your curiosity grows, and it shows perfectly from the way your eyes grow wide from under your mask. Before you can question him further, Jimin continues to explain, “To make up for our error, I’ve upgraded your membership status and programmed a few special offers on your card, which you are eligible to claim tonight if you wish to enjoy them.”

“An upgrade?” you ask, “and what kind of special offers are you talking about?”

Jimin throws you a smug smile. “I prefer to call it a peace offering, since it would be quite a disadvantage if tonight’s misfortune changes the way you perceive the club.” 

When your smile returns, so does the light in your eyes. “I’m listening.” 

“Instead of simply cancelling your appointment for tonight’s session, I switched the specifics of your appointment to have it listed as an open session which you can claim anytime you want. There will be no extra charge if you decide to have it as an extra from your monthly quota of free sessions,” Jimin explains, “The upgrade has also given you new privileges that only our exclusive members are eligible to claim.”  

You make a humming sound as if you are considering your options. But Jimin can tell that he is slowly getting you swayed. “You might want to remind me of these, um—” You come to a brief pause, then start shaking your head as if trying to not get ahead of yourself or too excited over this sudden development, “Remind me again about these privileges that I am now entitled with.” 

Jimin bites back a smile as he watches you crossing your arms over your chest, challenging him while trying your best to rein in your enthusiasm. 

“I am sure that you’ve read through the club’s rulebook that we sent you after you first joined us and learned about the club’s benefits—from our special rooms, events, and other services that the club offers,” Jimin says, to which you nod. “Your current—or should we say, your previous membership status, only allows a limited quota for accessing our sex rooms each month. With this new upgrade, not only will you be given the same privileges as our exclusive members, such as access to more sex rooms, and chances to book more appointments each month, but you will also receive invitations to our special events.” 

Your eyes grow wide, and this time, Jimin is the one who has to force himself to hide his excitement. As your host, Jimin has suspected that you may have been regretting your choice to join as a regular member of the club instead of upgrading it. 

With your current membership status, you have only been able to book two sessions and only one type of sex room to access each month, without being able to switch between rooms to be able to fully experience them—just like how you have only been able to book the Play Room for the past few months, and before that, the Viewing Room. As for the club’s special events, unless there was a special event being held in the club that is open for public guests, you wouldn't be receiving any invitation to join the festivities. 

Now, all of that’s going to change. The upgrade that Jimin has gifted you will allow you to experience all the benefits that the club offers its members—from getting the opportunity to try out more rooms, book more sessions, and join more parties.

There is no doubt in Jimin’s mind that you would have been able to appreciate these benefits to your heart’s content, and for some reason, the thought of being able to give you such luxury pleases him dearly. 

“I will be sending you the new rulebook that will explain the details about these privileges more thoroughly once the upgrade is officially applied to your membership account. In arranging future sessions, the basic procedure remains the same. I am still your personal contact with the club, so you can call or email me anytime you are interested in booking a room or a session, or if you want to venture out to the club’s other services which you want to try. Just give me all the details, your request for a partner to match you with, and the time you wish to come, and I’ll arrange everything.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it by saying, “The next time you call for an appointment, I will personally handle everything myself to make sure that things are in order.” 

Your gaze softens, and so does your smile. But there is something in your eyes that warms Jimin in the chest. The look of trust. It makes him happy knowing that he has earned it, especially coming from you. 

“Exclusive privileges, hmmm?” you ask him with a playful scoff, though there is a glint in your eyes that seems more honest. 

Excitement. With the familiar tinge of lust. 

Jimin can only guess what goes on inside that pretty little head of yours at the promise of trying more new things under the club’s space. “Sounds tempting. I look forward to learning more about them.” 

Exhaling a sigh of relief, Jimin continues, “For the rest of the evening, you are free to use the Entertainment Room to wind down. As a special treat, I added an extra drink over the two drinks a night limit.” Jimin leans closer. “Just for you,” he adds with a wink, and takes pleasure in the way your eyes are lowered when a shy smile appears on your face. 

“In exchange for your cancelled appointment, I’ve given you free access to join any of the Viewing Rooms tonight, since I know that you still favour those rooms. But you can also switch to any other sex room to your liking if you are interested in trying your new privileges right away,” he says, grinning as he sees you sitting up straight. “Just let me know which new benefit you would like to engage with before you end the night, and I’ll have everything set for you. As long as they are available for an impromptu visit.” 

Jimin holds back the chuckle rising in his chest as he sees you twitching in your seat. He wishes so badly to see what is going through your head right now. He can imagine you venturing through the rooms tonight out of curiosity, and he surprises himself when he feels a semblance of possessiveness when he thinks about you enjoying your night on your own, while knowing what your new privileges can offer. 

Swallowing his emotions, Jimin continues, focusing on the present instead of wondering about the things that have yet to happen.  

“Why don’t you take your time? Have some drinks while you process this and decide how you’re going to enjoy the rest of your night. I’m sure the exotic dancers performing in the Entertainment Room tonight will be quite helpful in getting your mind away from all the stress,” he offers you when he notices you thinking deeply about your options. It was clear to Jimin that you had felt dejected enough to even consider going home, forget everything, even perhaps to leave the club altogether out of this one bad experience. And that is the last thing that Jimin wants right now. 

At the mention of exotic dancers, your eyes light up, coaxing Jimin to lean in and tease you, “Although, I must say, that I am fairly sure those dancers might not be as entertaining as I would have been.”  

To his pleasure, his comment manages to draw not only a genuine smile from you, but also makes you laugh for the first time tonight. 

Your laugh is full of surprise and it does something crazy to Jimin. A flush of warmth runs down his body. This rarely happens, which only surprises him more. Never once has he ever been affected by someone this much. To have it coming from a client, a guest of the club that he is responsible for as a host, is even more unexpected. 

Yet he welcomes the feeling. Especially when he gets to see your smile even more. 

“I’m sure you’re right about that,” you softly tease him with a soft chuckle slipping out of your lips. 

“Now that I’ve explained how much this card is now worth with the upgrade, it will be best that you hold on to it,” Jimin says as he returns your membership card. His eyes remain on your dainty fingers as you retrieve the card from his hand. The greedy part of him wishes that he could stay in this moment a bit longer, or to find some reason to touch your skin. 

Yet he brushes away his thoughts before they can go any further. 

“Thank you. I was so sure that this night would be such a waste. This past week has been—a lot. And today at work had been the worst, which was the reason why I called you the first chance I got to arrange a session so I could destress.” You exhale a heavy sigh, the sound bringing back the tightness in his chest. Yet he can tell that the heaviness of your distress is no longer present, much to Jimin’s relief. 

Your eyes fall on the card in your hand and a sound of disbelief comes out of your lips. “I can’t believe you went above and beyond just to make up for all of this.” 

Jimin’s chest seems to expand with pride at your words. “It’s my duty as your host to make sure that you are satisfied with the club’s services.” You lift your gaze to meet his when he gently adds, “I meant it when I said it was my responsibility to make up for your failed night. But most of all, I’m also doing this personally for my own pleasure. Anything to please you.”  

— You —

 

Words fail you as your fingers brush against Jimin’s the moment you reach out to retrieve the membership card back from him. 

You have always found it so odd the way your heart would always flutter each time you were close to him. You have always felt at ease whenever he was around—just like that eventful evening just last year when you came to the club and met him for the first time, his smooth talking giving you the artful reassurance that you needed to be confident enough to apply for membership even before you finished your first drink.

Tonight, specifically, Jimin has managed to calm you down without having to do much. Just his voice alone was already enough to give your mind some semblance of solace after having to deal with the drama regarding your unsuccessful appointment. And then he goes to such lengths to make up for the mishap that didn’t seem to be entirely his fault. 

It shouldn’t make you feel things, being treated with this much care. It shouldn’t bring up the flutters threatening to grow stronger in your chest. 

How pathetic does it make you to feel something like this just because someone is being nice to you? Have you been so deprived of such kindness and affection that this simple gesture—one that a host of the club does to appease you—makes you feel spoiled and, perhaps, appreciated?  

After the day you had, however, where you felt as if the entire world was closing in on you, it shouldn’t be a surprise for you to feel this way. If only you hadn’t felt so tired and frustrated, you might even have tears in your eyes. They would be tears of gratitude and relief. Which no doubt would only make Jimin worry even more. 

“I think I might need that drink, after all,” you murmur with a chuckle, mostly to yourself than to Jimin.  

To his credit, Jimin says nothing about how desolated your voice comes out. He simply takes your hand and helps you rise from your seat, once again triggering that flutter in your chest with his warm touch. 

“I’ll have Saki escort you to the Entertainment Room. I hope spending some time there might help you feel a bit better, even if you decide to call it a night after a few drinks. But I’ll be here to guide you if you ever decide to venture out and indulge in your new benefits as a new exclusive member,” he says with a grin that is infectious that you cannot help but smile along with him. 

Your moment together ends too soon as you arrive back at the concierge desk, where his assistant, Saki, is waiting. You shouldn’t feel so dejected for having your time with him cut short, but it’s hard to ignore it. Being with Jimin feels so calming. His eyes are warm, even when they are partly hidden under his golden lace mask, and his smile—which often seems cunning—makes you feel safe when you are with him. 

Shaking your head, you remind yourself that the only reason why Jimin is so kind to you is because of his duty. This is his job. As a host, it would be his responsibility to keep his guests—his customers—happy, and that includes you. 

“Thank you, Jimin.” 

He nods. “I hope you’ll have a better evening.” 

“Your drink.” 

A glass of red liquid—Manhattan, dry—manifests right in front of your eyes, drawing your attention away from the lewd scenes that are being displayed in the room. The glass lands with a soft thud on your table. Glancing up, you see the staff who brought it over to you; a tall man with broad shoulders, wearing nothing but a tight vest which shows his perfectly toned muscles, his skin bare, with no shirt beneath. His mask is made up of semi-transparent black lace which mostly covers his eyes and the bridge of his nose, though not enough to cover the glint in his gaze as he lingers by you for a moment longer than necessary. 

“Can I provide you with anything else?” 

From his smile, you can tell that behind the alluring mask, he must be an attractive man—just like all the other staff, escorts, and hosts working in the club. 

From his gestures and the way he speaks, it’s clear that he is openly flirting with you. It is quite flattering, if only you don’t consider the fact that this is a part of his job as a waiter and escort; to tend to the guests and wait on their table, oftentimes keeping them company when they need one while they are in the room. 

He doesn’t have to say out loud that he is subtly offering you that said company. You can see it in his pretty smile, yet it doesn’t seem to pull at your heart enough to invite him to join you. Not even for a single drink. 

So you put a smile on your face to return his inviting grin and politely wave him off. “Thank you. This is all I need for now,” you coyly say, before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to play along a little just to have fun, “but you can ask me again when I order my second drink.” 

The masked staff winks at you before he leaves, promising to return when you are ready for your second order. 

Biting your smile, you watch as the masked escort walks away, weaving through the lines of loveseats with his tray in hand as he makes his way back to the bar. Left alone, you take a slow sip from your drink, allowing it to help cool you down and wash away any bitterness that still lingers with the unexpected turn of your planned evening. 

Closing your eyes briefly, you savour the buzz from your drink as it rushes through your body. The soft and sultry tune of the music playing in the room helps set the mood. Not only to help all guests relax and enjoy the moment, but also to draw out any wanton desire that is still lying dormant right before the guests begin to venture deeper into the club to enjoy the special treats provided in the other rooms.

Your eyes trail towards the nearest glass box where a male dancer is swaying with the beat. Aside from the pair of high leather boots he is wearing on his feet and the black leather mask covering half of his face, the dancer simply has tight black briefs covering his crotch. Pressed sinfully into his skin, the fabric looks like a smooth leather. It leaves little to almost nothing to everyone’s imagination as the fabric barely covers much of his skin.

And it hangs low on his hips.  

Extremely low. 

Low enough that you can see the triangular line leading down towards his evident bulge. 

As the dancer moves, the chiselled muscles on his chest and limbs seem to ripple with every movement he makes. Each line of muscles keeps getting highlighted under the spotlight illuminating his private box stage as he rolls his body to the music, his skin glistening with sweat and what appears to be a thin layer of oil.

Hungry eyes are locked on him. You can tell that many of his audience are hoping that he would end his show by tearing those tight briefs off as manicured fingernails keep reaching up to try and have a touch. 

A wanton fantasy that may never happen. 

Not in this club, and not in the room which is open to the public and set simply as a place of transit for the guests. 

Club La Rouge has always had its strict rules, binding all the staff and guests alike to make sure that things remain in order while keeping everyone safe and satisfied under its roof. 

Specifically for the Entertainment Room, there are a few rules that everyone must follow; no complete nudity, not between the escorts and the guests who are present, not even for the exotic dancers on the stage; the well-known two drinks limit for the guests, placed to make sure that everyone who is involved in the sex rooms remain sober; no physical contact; and no fraternising, as escorts and dancers are off-limits for the guests to invite into the rooms, although they are allowed to keep the guests’ company while they are in this room, simply to talk and and flirt and drink with them until their time is up; and many other rules which have been placed to maintain both the anonymity and safety of everyone involved in the club’s business, while keeping its reputation intact. 

There is a reason why these guests around you—the attendees, as the club would call them—hide their faces behind carefully designed masks. A lot of these guests are important and well-known people out in the real world; businessmen, politicians, celebrities. Anyone who wanted to find an escape, a place to channel their darkest desires, to seek pure pleasure without the risk of people judging or outing them in public. 

They all pay good money to have a good time, to find pleasure, something that the club has to offer. In return, the club simply asks everyone to follow their rules to keep everything in order. 

Yet, even with the rules and limitations in place, this room still serves its purpose of entertaining its guests. The scantily clad escorts and passing servers are the perfect eye candy for the guests, and they are both friendly and flirty, providing some level of comfort for the guests so they can relax and enjoy their time. 

And then there are the performers, the exotic dancers filling the stage and the small boxes that have been set between the seats. All of them dancing and swaying to the music seductively, their movements so mesmerising that most guests find it hard to look away. 

Just like how your eyes continue to find their way to the same dancer that you have been admiring, his actions draw your attention back to him no matter how hard you try to look away. 

The male dancer brings his arms up, crossing them behind his head as he begins gyrating his hips forward. His eyes are locked down, aimed towards the female guest sitting right in front of the box; an older woman who is dressed elegantly, yet daring, with her wrap dress coloured in dark purple, a similar colour to her mask, the cleavage sinking deeply at the front to show a generous view of her ample bosoms. Her auburn hair is styled up in a messy bun, with a pair of golden hair clips pinned on the side of her head to keep the strands in place. 

You cannot see her face from this angle, yet you can see her painted nails trailing up and down the flute glass of champagne that she has been nursing since she sat there, showing you that she is indeed enjoying the show while having her mind wandering to another place where she could be free with her own raw desire, possibly with said male dancer as the other character in her fantasy. 

The dancer comes down to one knee and continues rocking his hips. The female guest leans back in her seat, making it seem as if she is receiving a personal lap dance from the dancer, and you wonder if this is a part of her fantasy that he is giving her. 

A fantasy. That is all that these entertainers are offering for the guests sitting in the Entertainment Room. Anything that may entice any guests’ sexual desire without actually engaging with them directly. 

But there are still other ways for the guests to indulge in that fantasy, and for these escorts and performers to indulge in sexual pleasure without breaking the rules. You look around, biting your lips when you consider that sometime tonight, one of these escorts and dancers will be performing something else for the guests. 

In the Viewing Room, a different kind of entertainment is presented for the guests, drawing those who are into specific types of kink, including some of the most perverse kinds of sexual pleasure; exhibitionism, voyeurism, and similar others. 

Within those rooms, a similar setting to what you have now can be found, except on a smaller scale. Sets of loveseats and high-back chairs set in lines around small, solo stages or in front of a massive glass wall separating the room from another, except that instead of stripper poles and stage lights, you will find a whole different setup to support the performances; from small beds and three-seated leather sofas to the distinct setup, like bondage benches and St. Andrews cross standing at the center stage. Everything that is needed for the masked escorts, both males and females, to engage in their sexual exploitation in front of a public audience. 

Oftentimes, club members would be the ones to take the center stage. Either with their own partners or in groups, or even acting solo, allowing other members to watch as they indulge in carnal pleasure. 

Feeling warm from your own thoughts about the indecent scenes that you have seen in the Viewing Room before, you lift your gaze back to the nearest stage, where a new male dancer has taken the center spot. 

Wearing a thin, see-through white shirt and a pair of tight, holed-up jeans, he basically leaves only little left to your imagination. His mask, a perfect replication of a pair of wings of a dove, is made out of white lace fabric with silver threads as its linings. The mask glimmers as the dancer begins rocking his hips, allowing you to see the toned lines of his muscles rippling under his shirt before he begins to slowly peel the thin piece away to show you more. 

As you continue watching the dancer perform with his captivating moves, your mind wanders to another figure whose movements are also just as graceful, but with less rough edges on him. The figure who holds an aura which exudes sin and temptation as he moves and speaks, with that smile of his which keeps drawing you in. 

Finding yourself comparing the dancer with your mysterious host and escort draws out a scoff from your lips. 

How would you know whether or not Jimin has any rough edges on him at all, when he has always presented himself in a prim and orderly fashion; with his sparkling mask hiding half of his face and his firm body under his fashionable suits? 

Thinking about Jimin takes you back to the brief moment you had with him at the guest lounge earlier, and you feel the urge to knock back your drink when your disappointment returns tenfold. You have no idea why you are so invested in this club and feeling so deeply about your session tonight. Having your hopes up only to be let down makes you feel bad, but it shouldn’t be this bad.

Is it because you had wanted—no, needed—an escape from your life so badly, hoping that a night of pleasure, a chance to shed your skin for a short while, would have helped you deal with the problems waiting for you at home? Have you needed to forget about the real world that badly to seek a chance to live inside your fantasy? 

Yes, you wonder with a sigh, as the weight of your real life outside of this club—work, the thriving, yet struggling business that you are currently running, your home life, the absence of a real relationship, the business deal that had fallen through just this morning—lays heavy on your shoulder. 

Yes, I do need that escape. 

Ever since the moment you stepped foot in the club for the first time, your entire world has been undeniably and irrevocably elevated to a new height. You’ve found pleasure like you’ve never felt before from the very first experience they gave you, the perfect escape from real life, and never once have you turned your back on them. Never once had they ever given you the reason to. 

Must tonight’s misfortune become the sign that your time with the club is up? 

Feeling the dreadful feeling from today’s stress coming back, added to the possibility that you might be losing your safe place tonight, you take another drink and lift your gaze, meeting the dancer’s eyes as he looks across the floor to see you. 

Sitting back and forcing yourself to relax, you convince yourself to simply enjoy this moment. To enjoy the performance that is being given to you while trying your best not to think of your troubles, and at the same time, stop yourself from imagining your lovely host—whose smile and alluring voice have always filled your thoughts—as the one dancing in front of you. 

— Jimin —

Jimin has no idea what he is doing or why he is here. 

It feels like only moments ago that he watched you go to the Entertainment Room—the Lounge, as everyone at the club would usually call it—and then he is suddenly here, standing in the dark corner, watching you. 

He cannot understand why he felt the urge to come here. The need to see you again was pulling at him that he was drawn here to find you. 

Like a moth to a flame. 

Shaking his head, Jimin lets out a bitter chuckle. This is ridiculous. If this had been the weekend, when the club is usually the busiest, he wouldn’t have been here. He wouldn’t have time to, nor the chance to be distracted by the thought of you, wondering if you are feeling better, or if you are going to meet anyone in the Entertainment Room who might invite you to join them for more.

The Viewing Room is open for guests tonight. The Play Room that you have booked for the night is still vacant, as he couldn’t alter the reservation and pass it on to another guest unless they are seeking the same specific theme. Which only makes him grow more concerned after sending you off with a free ticket to use either of these rooms tonight. 

Jimin may have informed you of the main rules within the club, yet he isn’t sure if you are aware of the special rule that applies only to the exclusive members and VIP guests of the club that most aren’t well-informed yet unless they have the same privileges. 

The same privileges that you now have, once Jimin has officially updated your status in the club. 

The rule which states that while the guests are forbidden to engage intimately with or to invite the escorts to their private sessions in the sex rooms, they are, however, allowed to invite another guest for an impromptu session set in the rooms, so long as the arrangement made between them is mutual and the hosts are made aware of it beforehand. 

It might have been the thought of you receiving open invitations from these other guests which had drawn Jimin away from his station. He knew it was a possibility. If someone like him could be completely smitten and drawn to you, there is no doubt that others would feel the same once they notice you. 

Alone. 

Unattended. 

Available. 

Jimin’s attention is drawn back to you when he sees you raising your hand, and ordering your second drink. Within moments, one of the male escorts tending the room appears with your drink in his tray. He leans close over the table as he places your drink, and then lingers for a moment too long. His demeanour and the way he leans a bit too close, too friendly, combined with the way you smile back at him as you lean forward to meet him, lets Jimin know that this male escort has been the one taking care of you and keeping you company since you got here. 

Jimin’s hands are clenched to fists at his sides. It remains that way while you are chatting with the escort, whose presence is making you oblivious to your surroundings and all the attention that you are getting from the other guests. Only when the male escort finally walks away, returning to his station, Jimin can finally breathe a sigh of relief. 

Instead of approaching you, Jimin remains in the shadows. Still out of sight. It allows him to look at you, a chance to get a full view of what he rarely gets to see whenever he’s in your presence. 

Sitting under the dim golden light falling from above, your mask glimmers when you move. The masquerade mask, gifted by the club when you first joined as a member and then amplified further with your personal touch, looks like petals of roses covering a part of your face. Made of lace fabric in the colour of red cherry, the mask matches perfectly well with the colour of your drink. Even the colour of your lipstick and dress both match the tone, something that Jimin had marvelled at the moment he saw you for the first time earlier tonight. 

The gold and black embroideries framing your mask make your eyes pop, and it shouldn’t please Jimin how well they match the colour of the mask that he is wearing tonight. 

As he watches you raise your glass to your lips, Jimin finds himself moving. As if a spell has been put on him, and his body is moving on its own, drawn towards the magic that has bewitched him completely. 

You have yet to notice him approaching, as your eyes drift towards the nearest box stage, where a new male dancer had just taken the spot to begin his dance. 

Once again, Jimin clenches his fists as he looks on, wishing that the glimmer in your eyes was directed to him instead. Yet he quickly calms himself just as he comes to your table, keeping his voice and expression steady, as well as the mask helping him hide his emotion, as he gently says, “Enjoying your evening so far?” 

Jimin’s voice takes your attention away from the male dancer who is now becoming the main focus of the entire room.

Startled, you sit up straight and turn to look at him. The haze in your eyes clears for a moment, only for your gaze to soften at the sight of him. While Jimin still cannot understand what he was feeling before, he takes pleasure in seeing how your gaze always changes just for him. 

“Well, I can’t say that I’m not enjoying myself,” you answer him with a coy smile. It appears as if you are already feeling the buzz, both from your drink and the ambience in the room, clearly seeming more relaxed compared to before. “I have free drinks, a wonderful view of gorgeous men dancing to the music, and friendly escorts coming to keep me company.”  

Your words draw a smile to Jimin’s face, which grows even wider when you add, “And now I have my handsome host coming to say hi.” 

Chuckling softly, Jimin nods and says, “Hi.” 

You softly laugh and take a drink. It draws Jimin to move closer. “Mind if I join you, then?” 

You lower your eyelids. A gesture so subtle and sweet, yet enough to draw a strong reaction out of him. The perfect submission. You shake your head and shift on your seat, making space for him. 

“Do you think I’ll mind having some time with you, Jimin?” you ask him with your eyes fluttering as you tap your palm on the loveseat, gesturing to him to sit right beside you instead of taking the other chair across the table. “Come sit here and keep me company.” 

Tilting his head, a myriad of emotions washes over him. He knows that he shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t be here at all, least of all to join you, when every part of him keeps reacting to everything that you do. But his body has its own mind, and your gaze is pulling him closer before he can stop himself. 

Tugging at the lapels on his suit jacket, Jimin settles right next to you. Breathing in, he enjoys the sweet scent of your perfume and the warmth of your presence while you take another sip of your drink. 

“Aren’t you busy? Is it all right for you to join me here instead of watching over the concierge desk? Won’t they be needing you there?” You begin giving him a barrage of questions before returning your drink to the table. Jimin merely listens with a smile, as you curiously ask, “Or did you perhaps come here to check on me? To make sure that I’m having a good time?” 

Why am I here? Jimin wonders, once again questioning his own intentions. 

His concern over you had been making it hard for him to focus on working. No matter how much he tries to rationalise it, listing all the possible reasons why he is in this room with you, Jimin still has no answers. Other than to see you. 

However, he loses any chance to answer your question or to explain himself when a bare-chested server wearing a bowtie around his neck, a silver mask covering half of his face, and a pair of extremely tight leather pants, comes in to take his drink order. 

Jimin considers ordering something strong. A glass of whiskey, perhaps, if only for the sake of giving him liquid courage to speak his mind openly to you. But he quickly decides against it and orders a glass of iced water instead. 

“I’m guessing there’s a rule against drinking on the job?” you tease him, once the server walks away, your gaze lingers for a second longer on his toned bottom than Jimin would like before you turn to him again. 

“Something like that,” Jimin says with a tight smile. “I’m still on the hour, and I’d prefer to enjoy this chat with a sound mind.”

“I like the sound of that. Then I guess I’ll be drinking for both of us,” you say as you take a hefty drink of your liquor, nearly finishing it off. “You don’t do this often, do you?” you ask him while looking around, before noticing Jimin’s raised eyebrows and explaining what you meant, “I’m talking about you sitting with a client or a guest while strippers and half-naked servers are entertaining them.” 

Chuckling softly, Jimin shakes his head. “Actually, as one of the main hosts and the club’s recruiters, I do this quite often. Usually, I’d sit in the Entertainment Room or the open stage areas where the strippers perform, scouting over new guests who aren’t yet members to see if I can find those who interest me enough to offer them a special membership offer for them to join the club.” 

Your eyes grow wide, surprised and intrigued at the same time upon hearing this. Jimin can’t blame you for feeling this way. Even if he has been your host and personal contact to the club since you first applied, this hadn’t been your experience which had led you to meet him. 

Unlike the other members who came in through Jimin’s expert scouting and special invitation passed on through their sponsors, you had first come to the club at your own conviction. 

He still remembers that day as if it was yesterday. 

You had come during the rare occasion in which the club opened the Entertainment Room for public audience, welcoming guests who were non-members by applying an entrance fee for those who came without sponsors. It was you who came to approach him first, knowing who he was to the club and what his role was as he blended with the guests. 

Through the conversation he shared with you, he had learned that you came that night after finding out about the club from the words spread through the grapevine. You came out of curiosity at first, while also having the intention to apply to be a regular club member so you could try out the club’s various endeavours. You claimed that you wished to learn more about your sexual taste and preferences, while relying on the club’s pledge of keeping the members’ privacy and safety while they are under its wings. 

Jimin vaguely recalls how your work would often get in the way of you in having a relationship and from seeing people, to going on dates and finding your own partner to try new things. Hence, the club became such an enticing option which you couldn’t refuse. 

“No wonder no one seems to be questioning why you’re here,” you simply comment, just as a server passes by your table with a subtle nod towards Jimin.  

Jimin takes a drink to cool off, realising that this is something that he needs as he notices you sliding closer to him. 

“I guess you do take your job seriously,” you tease, sounding more relaxed after the drink you are having starts settling in. He looks over to see you watching him closely, your chin resting on your hand as you peruse him with your gaze. “Since you’re here, I’ve been thinking…” 

Placing his glass down, Jimin sits back in the seat, willing himself to relax with you. “What do you have in mind?” he asks, crossing his legs as he listens. Jimin bites down his smile when you give him a sheepish smile. But he would have never expected to hear what you are going to say to him next. 

“I feel like it will be a waste if I just leave here after finishing my drink.” You let out a sigh. “So maybe I’ll take your offer and try out one of the sex rooms tonight. What do you think?” 

You turn to Jimin with a small smile. “Is the Viewing Room with the open stage available tonight? It’s okay to go solo to watch, isn’t it? Maybe I can have fun there and enjoy myself.” 

Jimin swallows down the groan threatening to come out of him at the thought of you entering the sex rooms, much less the Viewing Room. Watching a live porn performance has been one of the fetishes and quirks that the club has to offer. One that he knows well enough to be your favourite before the Play Room. 

By choosing the one with the open stage, you will be sitting right in front of the stage, with either the attendees or escorts performing their carnal act within arm’s length and no barrier getting in the way. Except that going in solo would mean an open invitation to anyone who is enjoying the room to watch without a partner. 

“I mean, I would have loved to try the Dark Room, but after failing to find a partner meant for my original schedule, I can’t see myself getting a random partner on such short notice for—” 

Gritting his teeth, Jimin holds back from showing his displeasure as you continue rambling about your desire to try out the other sex rooms. With other people. He knows that it would be wrong of him to object to your intentions when he was the one who first made the offer for you to find a different way to enjoy the rest of your night. 

Yet he certainly isn’t prepared to hear himself sharing what has truly been going through his mind out loud. 

— You —

Thinking about what you might find in the Viewing Room tonight already makes you grow hot and excited. 

Out of all the sex rooms that you can find in Club La Rouge, the Viewing Room was the start of it all. The start of your journey with the sex club. 

Applying for a membership at La Rouge last year had immediately earned you a free entrance to The Viewing Room and a free extra drink in The Entertainment Room on the same night. Out of curiosity, you accepted the offer right away to feel the experience firsthand. 

Resting back in your loveseat, you remember resting on an exact replica of this seat inside the sex room, getting comfortable as you enjoyed the show. Just the way they have it here, there was a single stage positioned perfectly at the center of the room, merely an arm’s length away from where you were sitting. 

When you first entered, the stage was already occupied. You watched in awe as a masked woman sitting on the center of the stage spread her legs open, while a masked man knelt down before her, with his face buried between her legs and his mouth devouring her bare cunt. As the woman rocked her hips in the height of pleasure, you found yourself moving yours, brushing your covered center against the cushioned seat beneath you to find your own release. 

You remember meeting the woman’s gaze when her eyes shot open in her release, and then again when the man raised to his feet, twisting his partner onto her knees with ease before he began taking her from behind, pounding into her shamelessly while masked strangers continued to watch them giving in and indulging their carnal desire on stage. 

It felt exhilarating. 

Freeing. 

And it felt like the perfect escape from your mundane life, allowing you to recognise a part of you which had been lying dormant inside and awaiting release. The part of you which has always had a strong passion and desire for pleasure, and a deep curiosity to venture deeper into your fantasies and bring them into reality.  

That had been the night when you truly found the club to be the perfect place for you. A place where you could seek out pure pleasure, to learn and understand more about your needs and desires freely without any judgement from the people around you. 

And you have been coming back to this place ever since. Always back to try out new things, new ventures, new sex rooms, and Jimin knows this fact so well as he talks about your intention of visiting the Viewing Room before making your way home. 

“The Viewing Room you mentioned is available tonight. I’m quite certain that there are already a couple of guests making use of the stage right now, and anyone interested in watching them can enter anytime. But—” 

Jimin pauses. Seconds drag on. It would be expected for you to feel uneasy about why he seems so unsure to talk more about this. But it’s hard to feel it when his gaze seems to spark brighter when he looks at you. 

With a smile on his face, Jimin leans in to say with a low, gentle voice, “What if I tell you that I have something better in mind?” 

His cryptic words make you curious. “I’m listening.” 

His smile remains as his gaze holds steady, “I would like to make you an offer.”

The moment you get to see Jimin up close, your previous thoughts are proven right. He does look way more attractive in your eyes compared to the dancer who tried his best to keep your attention on him. Even with a full suit on, Jimin looks more appealing. His face, while hidden under his beautifully crafted mask, appears delicate and beautiful beneath. Not even the mask and the dim lighting filling the room can hide his features, or dim the sparks you feel from looking into his eyes. 

And then there is the way he carries himself, which has always been able to make you feel flustered whenever you are near each other. The way he glides and sways as if he is dancing to a tune that only he can listen to, and how you would take in every single movement he makes—from the tilt of his head, the small twitch at the corner of his lips before his smile grows, to the delicate way he moves his fingers. 

You have never truly realised how much he affects you. 

Until now. 

When the confidence that he oozes from within makes you feel like you want to surrender your desire in his hands, knowing that he might be the only one in the world who may understand what you need. 

“Another offer?” you ask, smiling at the sweet man before you, while hiding the fact that you are feeling an odd flutter in your chest with the way he is leaning closer to you. He might only want to make sure that you can hear him over the sultry music playing in the room, while keeping his words—his offer—from everyone else around you to hear. Something for your ears only.

“After giving me an additional monthly private session, extra free drinks and a free show.” You raise your glass and wave your hand at the main stage, where a few male dancers are now performing for all the club members who are present, their bare chests glimmering under the golden glow lights. “As well as many other privileges a girl like me could ever deserve. Yet you still have more to give?” 

Your smile grows when your gazes meet again. “I never realised the club takes good care of their members this well.”

Jimin gives you a sweet smile. “As I said before, I feel responsible for tonight’s misfortune. I feel like I am partly to blame for matching you with the wrong partners for your private session tonight. If only I had done my job better, perhaps you would—”

Shaking your head at him, you lean forward and repeat the same words you gave him earlier. “Jimin, I told you already, it’s not your fault. These things can happen. It just wasn’t meant to be.” 

Jimin presses his lips when he nods. His eyes are on you when he speaks again, “Yet, things like this shouldn’t happen. It would be bad for our business if we keep messing things up for our favourite clients.” His frown softens. His lips turn to a small grin when he notices you looking back at him with a shy smile, obviously catching on with the meaning of his words. 

“Rest assured, I’ve dealt with the problems as much as I could. For now. You will not be paired up again with your original partner in the future, and we will be looking into his personal details to see if we can have him update his data so things like this—having an appointed pairing bail due to conflicting interests, as he called it—won’t be happening again.” 

The grin disappears and switches into a look of contempt as he speaks about this, and then he carries on to say, “We have also scheduled to have our system looked over, to make sure that no one, especially you, will experience similar misfortunes.”

You sit back and look at him with wide eyes. “Wow, you work fast,” you mutter softly, amusedly, surprised that Jimin and his team would move that quickly to fix all the problems straight away. Their automated pairing system included. 

“As I should. It’s for the club’s best interest, after all,” he claims. “Of course, the first chosen club member has received a warning for his sudden retreat, and we are currently appraising the details and preferences he added in his application form to see if there was some information that he had put in inaccurately.” 

The sass and bitterness in his voice nearly make you laugh. Seems like Jimin also believes that said club member might have made up things that he wrote down in his application form. 

“And the other? You’re not going to reprimand the poor fella?” 

Jimin scoffs. “No, he already emailed us back, right before I came in. He’s out of town, and the business email address he gave us had an automated reply feature set on. That might have been the main cause of the issue.” 

“Bummer,” you say this while rolling your eyes, causing Jimin to chuckle. “Is that what you came here to talk about?”

Shaking his head, Jimin smiles softly at you and leans closer. “No, it’s not. I could’ve informed you all of this another time if that’s all I wanted to talk about.” 

He takes a quick glance around him, seeing if anyone would hear him before he continues. “My offer has to do with your original session,” he says, pausing briefly to let you process his words before he explains further, “Since the Play Room has been booked for your appointment tonight, it will remain vacant for the rest of the night. We have no other guests scheduled for a session, while the room itself has been set up to accommodate your—request.” 

He gives you a small grin while your cheeks grow warm. You are taken back to Jimin’s first reaction when he heard your request, when he sounded so surprised and amused at the same time that you regretted not contacting him through a video call instead to see the reaction on his face. “The staff have worked so hard preparing the room for your appointment. It would be a shame to let it go to waste, wouldn’t it?”

“I…suppose it would,” you respond slowly, while silently questioning where he is going with this.

“Then, I would like to offer you the chance to use the Play Room tonight,” he says, surprising you that you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Okay…But how? I don’t suppose that your system can magically find me the right partner to invite tonight. Unless you already know someone that might come in moment’s notice,” you comment with a soft chuckle, yet the way Jimin grins at you in return makes you stop. 

“If an eligible partner is what you are asking for, then there is one who is available.” 

Your jaw nearly drops. “Do you mean to say that you have found someone?” 

Jimin says nothing for a brief moment, allowing room for anticipation to start growing in your chest. And then, he surprises you again when he finally answers.  

“It’s me,” he confidently replies. While your heartbeat picks up after hearing this, a look of mirth appears in his eyes. 

You say nothing, wondering if you are hearing things. Perhaps you heard him wrong, and you are imagining things. But then Jimin speaks again, more convincingly this time, “I will be your partner so you can use the Play Room tonight.” 

Seeing that you are lost for words, Jimin holds back a chuckle and reaches out. His gentle hand rests right beside your thigh, barely touching, yet you can still feel a brush of warmth on your skin from the gesture. Your body reacts with a shudder, yet you make no move to pull away when Jimin leans in, getting into your personal space so that you can breathe in his cologne, and feel his breath on your exposed shoulder when he questions you with a low voice, “I can promise you that if you wish so dearly for your fantasy to be fulfilled tonight, then I can make sure you will not be left unsatisfied. What do you say?”

“Is that—” You are still struggling to get over your shock that you can’t find any words to say. His offer was so unexpected that you have no idea how to react. “Is that even allowed?” you finally ask, “And why would you even make such an offer?” 

Jimin’s gaze softens. “A part of it is me trying to make up for my mistake, another part is for my personal gain,” he admits, once again surprising you with his confession. “You are quite a special member of the club. As a host, it would taint my reputation if words spread that I’ve failed to provide one of my attendees with her needs tonight.” 

His gaze is locked on yours when he continues, “As a man, who has unadulterated interest in you, it would have been a great sin should I send you home tonight unsatisfied, when I know for sure that I fit quite well to the criteria you were asking for as a partner.” 

Eyes wide, you simply listen and allow his words to sink in. If only he didn’t seem so genuine about it, perhaps you would have laughed in his face. You find it hard to believe that he has any semblance of interest in you at all, or in the type of fantasy you wished to bring into reality. Enough for him to make such an offer. 

“As for whether or not I, as a staff member, am allowed to offer myself to be your partner,” he continues while you fall silent, “the rules only state that I am not allowed to be involved with a guest when I am in the hour of my shift. I don’t think the club and the executives would mind if I end my shift early tonight and re-enter as a regular patron of the club.” 

This time, you cannot stop yourself from laughing in disbelief. But you can see the honesty in his eyes, and you quickly sober up. 

“Your offer is quite tempting,” you find yourself admitting once your laughter dies down.

“Of course, it is,” he says, smiling, while looking awfully pleased and sure of himself. “You came into our club tonight in search of pleasure. We have one Play Room still open and reserved, already prepared specifically for you. It’s a win-win situation if we take this opportunity. Don’t you think so?” 

In a way, you have to admit that he is right. 

Your special request would have required some extra preparation from the club to arrange. You wonder what kind of waste that would be if the club isn’t going to find someone else to make use of it. And the more you think about it, the more tempted you are to follow him through   

“If I accept this offer,” you carefully say to him, “how will it affect my, um—” 

As if Jimin knows what you are about to ask him, he nods and explains, “Remember one of the rules from the Play Room that I shared with you when you first came in?” 

You nod your head, still remembering the rules clearly. 

“What happens in the Play Room, stays there. Once the session ends, you will remain as our esteemed guest and club member, while I remain as your host,” Jimin reassures you, “Of course, if you ever find it uncomfortable to have me deal with your future—endeavours, you are free to switch hosts and your personal contacts for your future sessions anytime you want.” 

While his explanation does sound reassuring, his last comment only displeases you. Furrowing your brows, you cannot possibly imagine having to contact anyone else other than Jimin. To allow a stranger from the club to organise your private sessions, to take notes of your preferences and progress—something that you find too personal to share with anyone—instead of having someone that you have become familiar with for the past year assisting you. 

Jimin tilts his head. He can probably see that you may need a moment to mull it over. There is no need for you to let him know that you might have already made up your mind about taking his offer. 

“You have one more drink on your card. Take your time to think about it while you have your drink. You should also know that this is an offer that I don’t give away so easily to any other members of the club,” he says, as the tips of his fingers brush against your hand. A shudder runs through you, and you begin to imagine what his touch would do to you if it were more intimate. 

Jimin leans back, brushing against the front of his suit as he takes away his warmth. “I will be waiting for your decision. Just come straight to the room that has been reserved for your session tonight. You should find the information by taking a quick visit to Saki at the concierge desk.” 

“What if I decide not to come?” 

Jimin stops. With a flicker of a smile on his face, he reaches out to you, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear—a move which enthrals you and has your heartbeat picking up rapidly in your chest. 

“I think,” he whispers, “You will be there when I enter the room. You’ll be waiting for me on your knees, your hands folded on your lap, and your head down in submission. You will be waiting for me to tell you what I want, and ready to take my commands, just like the good girl I know you are.” 

You bite your lips and lower your eyes. “Is that how you want me tonight, Sir?” 

There is heat in his eyes when Jimin notices your subtle submission. “You should know better than to question your master once the instruction is clear.” 

— Jimin —

Jimin’s movements are stiff and his legs feel heavy as he makes his way out of the Entertainment Room. It takes a lot of effort to remain calm as he walks away from you. He almost can’t even make it to leave at all. 

But he knows that he has to. 

He feels hard as concrete down below. His pants have grown tight as he walks, and he can only hope that the dim lighting around him provides enough cover to hide it as he walks past a few guests and escorts on his way back to his office. 

Your reaction to his offer was sweet. But it was your reaction to his instructions that did things to him. It makes him want to forget everything—the rules, regulations, his duties and ethics—and go straight to the Play Room with you. To hell with the power of anticipation, when he could have gone straight into playtime if he wanted to. 

But he knows that he cannot do that. 

Not here. Not now, when he is still on duty. 

To make sure that there will be nothing getting in the way of him in spending the evening and having a session with you, he needs to do things right. First, he needs to get back to his office and deal with his remaining duties and responsibilities. Then he is going to clock out, ending his shift so he can enter the room with you as another guest instead of a host. 

A complete submission. 

That was your special request. A new kind of sexual exploit that you have claimed, time and time before, to be something that you have been interested in trying, but never had the chance or the courage to get into. Not once, because you have yet to find the right time and place to delve into it without being haunted by the fear of judgment, and without worrying about your safety. 

As Jimin closes the door to his office behind him and carefully begins stripping himself out of his suit jacket, he recalls the conversation he had with you earlier today, back when you called to make the arrangement. 

Those three words had done him over that he almost reacted with a groan in the middle of the phone call. It brought back a piece of his past; his first connection to the club, and the deepest, darkest desire that he has long kept a secret from the world, but never from the club. 

Jimin walks across the room to stand in front of the mirror that he has placed against the wall. Carefully, he untangles the ribbons keeping his mask attached to his face. With a new determination set in his mind, he strips himself of the mask that identifies him as the host of the club, and readies himself to put on a different mask. An old persona of his that not many have ever gotten the chance to see. 

Tonight, he is just another guest. 

Tonight, he is about to become the master that you need. 

— You — 

You cannot really remember how you managed to get here. 

The preparation room looks just as common as the others you used before when you booked a sex room.

Not too spacious, just comfortable enough for the guest to strip out of their clothes and change into whatever outfit or setup they need for the session. 

A small shower box and a vanity table are placed on one side of the room, provided specifically in case an attendee feels the need to clean up before or after a session. 

A wooden closet covers the other side of the room, filled with robes and costumes that you can choose from. There are also baskets and boxes here which you can use to place your personal belongings—the ones which you didn’t leave behind at the reception desk—to keep safe during a session. 

The locked door behind you should bring you back towards the hallway where Saki had left you. The soft echoes of her heels can still be heard as she makes her way back to the concierge desk after escorting you here. 

And right on the other side of the door before you is the Play Room—specifically, the room which Jimin had reserved for you tonight. 

Your body is buzzing from the inside as you stand facing it. Every part of your sense has come alive, excitement is brewing, yet you still make no move to get ready. 

Butterflies flutter in your belly while all your nerve endings are crackling. The thought of Jimin being the other person you will see once you step through that door feels like a fantasy that you never once imagined, yet merely seconds away from becoming reality. 

It’s this kind of moment when you wish that you could depend on liquid courage. The club’s drink limit wasn’t even the reason why your mind is now clear, as you never took the extra drink that Jimin offered. The moment Jimin walked out of sight, leaving you behind in the Entertainment Room to ponder over his invitation, your mind was already made up. Not even the male dancer rocking his hips towards you from behind the glass barrier did anything to sway you from your needs.

Not when Jimin’s words had already set your nerves alight, and your carnal needs burning wildly inside.  

You barely even finished your second drink when you left your seat, drawn by the promise you heard in Jimin’s voice. A promise that he would be the one to give you what you need tonight. 

Not simply as a host who is in charge of your safety and comfort. Not out of his sense of duty. 

But as a man with raw, carnal desire which you could feel from his direct words, his confidence, and his smooth, silky voice as he spoke about helping you find pleasure. 

With a deep inhale of breath, you begin peeling your clothes off. Jimin never specified how you should situate yourself aside from the hint he left you with. But you have decided that it would be best to be as prepared as you can be. 

After putting aside your shoes, pieces of jewellery, and your fancy dress into one of the baskets, you walk towards the full body mirror on the vanity table. 

The pair of eyes looking back at you look almost unrecognisable. Yet the brewing anticipation and desire are clear, even from beneath the mask. Deciding that you are going to go all in tonight, you carefully take off your mask, putting it aside with a smile on your face before stepping into the shower box. 

From what you have learned about Doms, something that you read about when you first became intrigued with the concept of submission and control, you found that some may require their subs to freshen up before entering a play. For you, personally, standing briefly under the running water has helped calm your nerves before entering an intense type of play. 

Recalling the way Jimin leaned in to breathe the scent of your perfume, you forgo using the liquid soap that you find on the shelves and simply let the water wash off the sweat on your skin and the spicy fragrance from the Entertainment Room still clinging on you.  

Once you feel refreshed and clean, you reach for the silk robe to cover yourself. It’s a thin piece that hangs perfectly on the curves of your body. Its length falls right at the top of your thighs, barely concealing your intimate parts when you sit down on the settee in front of the vanity table. 

You take your time to look at your reflection in the mirror before stepping into the next room.  

Your face is now clean from the makeup you wore for the night. Your hair is loose, the pins and hair clip are now safely secured with your other belongings, and it makes you feel more relaxed seeing the wet strands framing your clear face. 

A smile lifts itself on your face as you take a good look at yourself while imagining how Jimin would react seeing you like this—with every part of you bare of anything which may hide your truth. For him to see every part of you that no one else has ever gotten the chance to. 

If he’s going to be there as just another man, then I’ll be there as a regular woman. 

Not his usual patron or special guest. Just me. 

The door to the Play Room closes behind you with a resounding click. Almost as if sealing your fate. 

There is no turning back. 

By now, Jimin would’ve gotten notified of your arrival in the room. He might already be on his way to join you. 

It would be too late to have a change of mind now, wouldn’t it? 

You find yourself wondering about this as your gaze drifts towards the other door across the room. You can picture him entering through that door, elegantly striding into the room as if he owns the place. The same way you saw him the first time you met, when he entered the guest venue with his head held high and one of his hands tucked in his pocket as he greeted the guests attending the club’s special event. Also, the same way he did earlier when he walked off the Entertainment Room after sharing his proposition with you.  

Will he be wearing his mask still, just like your previous partners? Will he still be wearing his fancy suit—this evening, he was wearing a matching suit in deep bronze with a satin shirt in cream underneath, a complete contrast to his dark mask—or will he choose to change into something more comfortable? 

Something more—appropriate for the play, perhaps? Or maybe just something comfortable for him to play his role with? 

Thinking of all the possibilities of seeing Jimin in a different light makes the flutter inside you grow more intense. It feels overwhelming. So you try to distract yourself by taking in your surroundings instead, marvelling at what the club has done while you have the chance to soak it all in. 

This Play Room seems slightly different compared to the ones you used previously. Quite more spacious, it gives you a sense that you are inside a honeymoon suite in a resort instead of a simple sex room inside of a club. The lights here are a bit dimmer, with various more arrangements added to fill the room.

A four-poster king-sized bed is placed against the center wall to your right. Its frame is made of dark wood, with four vertical columns standing on each of its corners, made as tall as pillars reaching to the ceiling. Wooden rails are placed on its head, looking just as sturdy as the columns and sizeable enough for you to wrap your fingers around each grid. Various pillows and cushions are scattered on the mattress, all covered in dark rouge-coloured silk sheets—the shade that you see in almost every part of the club.  

The bed looks imposing as you stand right before the massive columns. Yet heat rises through your body as you picture yourself being stretched out on top of the delicate fabric, your limbs bound to those pillars and your skin bare for your partner’s eyes to see. 

Another set of doors stand on the wall across the bed. A symbol is placed at the top, similar to the one you saw one the doors to the preparation rooms similar to the one that you had just walked out of—a symbol that looks like an outline of a bathtub to give you a hint of what is on the other side. 

Your heartbeat flutters softly in your chest knowing what it means—a small bath meant to use after a playtime, or perhaps another part of the set-up meant for the Dom and sub to use during a play? 

Turning back to the room, you see two other furnitures that are set on either side of the bed which look just as imposing. 

Black-painted St. Andrews cross stands on a small platform on the left side of the bed, set up for intense bondage play. A bondage bench covered in dark red leather with leg stirrups is placed on the right side, with various instruments meant for different types of punishments hanging on the adjacent wall. Floggers, belts, whips, paddles, riding crops, and even feathers in various sizes and colours draw your attention, and your skin feels tight as you picture them being used on you. 

Looking away from those instruments, your gaze lands on a single leather high-back chair that is placed across the bed. Looking at its position, you can imagine your partner sitting there, watching as you are laid to perform any carnal act on the bed. 

This simple setup is something that you are more familiar with, learned from your previous experiences in the Play Room.

Your first experience with the Play Room was when you requested a session where you could give a blowjob to a nameless partner who was willing to be tied up and blindfolded. On the next session, you became the recipient of an invitation sent from another guest. An anonymous club member who wanted to give you pleasure through oral sex, only this time, with you being the one who was blindfolded, all while you were stretched out and bent on a long loveseat similar to the high-back chair you see in this room.

Ever since then, you have continued to use the Play Room to venture into other kinks. To understand more about yourself and follow your need to figure out what you might enjoy more in the future with a trusted partner. 

You tried to see if you could enjoy pain kink by arranging to have a partner spanking you until your skin grew tender. The first time you entered this type of session, you had your partner use his palms, who had then used those same palms to soothe away the pain and tenderness until you were left trembling under his touches. In the next session, you had a different partner use a flogger, an experience which you found painful yet thrilling that you felt like you were being sent off to a different height at the end. 

Both occasions had allowed you to learn one thing; that you can endure pain and enjoy them, and you had been left drenched between your legs with arousal after each one, that a single flick of a finger on your clit and a light blow on your slick folds were enough to send you spiralling into your climax, one that was so intense that you can still feel it each time you think about those nights. 

Another time, you tried to see if food play would be your thing. 

The idea of the play was quite erotic; as you spent it by having both you and your partner coated in chocolate syrup before licking each other clean. But the aftermath hadn’t been as pleasing. 

It was messy, sticky, and you still giggle each time you remember the dopey smile you gave each other when you found out how ticklish you actually were. It didn’t necessarily ruin the experience. But it did simmer the heat. Thankfully, your partner that night simply bid you goodbye with a chaste kiss on your cheek and a teasing wink instead of abhorrence. 

Sensory play was the next thing you tried in the Play Room. It was your partner’s turn to take the lead, by pouring hot wax on your breasts before using ice cubes to cool down the sizzling heat. He then finished the play by sucking your sensitive nipples until both of you came into climax from the thrill and heightened sensations. It was yet again something you found to be a pleasant experience. A new find in the growing list of kinks that you certainly do enjoy. 

Pressing your legs together, you try to tame down the pulsing heat growing at your center. You can feel that you are getting wet from thinking about your past experiences. Foreplays to prepare yourself for tonight’s session, as you see it. 

You have no idea what truly enticed you to request such an intense play for your session tonight. You only have a vague idea so far of what you are getting into, which only adds to the anticipation brewing inside. 

Feeling tension growing in your belly, you turn away from the bed to look at the console table standing in the center of the room. At one glance, the table only looks like another piece of adornment to complete the room setup. But upon closer inspection, you quickly notice the entire set-up of what you may need during your play. 

Assortments of smaller instruments and sex toys are laid perfectly in order on top of the table, all chosen according to your personal preferences as written in your registration form. From plugs, clamps, and vibrators in different types, sizes, and colours. To a variety of ropes and fabrics that you can only imagine how they are going to be made use of during the play. 

There is an addition of a set of hemp rope beside the silk ropes that you have listed as something which you thought might be more comfortable to be used on you, and you wonder if Jimin had added it as his own preference to try with you after volunteering to be your partner tonight. 

Reaching out, you brush the tips of your fingers over the items on the table, trying to decide if you should pick something out of them yourself before Jimin arrives. Even if only so you could have something to hold on to as you wait. 

But then Jimin’s last instruction echoes through your mind, reminding you of the command he gave before he left— 

“You’ll be waiting for me on your knees, your hands folded on your lap, and your head down in submission.” 

Thump. Thump. Your heart begins beating rapidly in your chest. Warmth surges through your body, pulling at your skin, as his gentle voice comes to you like a soft, demanding caress, 

“You will be waiting for me to tell you what I want…”

The intense flutter in your chest returns, and you pull your hand away from the table. 

Smoothing down the front of your robe, you carefully climb onto the bed. You settle down near the foot of the bed, knees folded beneath you to cushion your weight. You rest your palms on your thighs, loosening your fingers instead of clenching them, and lower your head in submission. 

And then you wait.  

Seconds tick by into minutes. 

Silence has thickened as you continue kneeling on the bed, waiting for Jimin to arrive. 

Your heartbeat has grown steady. The unrest and anxiousness you felt have dwindled in your wait. Your legs are beginning to grow numb. Yet there is something about the power of anticipation which has the rest of your body come alive.

While your mind is empty, you are still focused. Your senses are on high alert. Your skin has become sensitive to the touch, to every shift in the air, to every brush of soft breeze flowing from the air conditioner. 

The gentle click from the other door sounds like it’s coming from far away. It doesn’t take long for your mind to register what it means, as it is the sound that you have been waiting for ever since you claimed your position.  

Jimin is here. 

You remain in your position, keeping your eyes lowered as the gentle sound of footfalls fills the room. You can feel him approaching, stopping to stand right before you without making any other sound. For a moment, you can hear nothing else but the sound of your steady heartbeat and his subtle breathing, until—

“You follow my instructions really well.” His voice comes as a murmur, with a praise that comes out of his lips like a humming tune. It brings back the butterflies fluttering in your belly, growing wild and expanding, before exploding into sparks when he adds, 

“Good girl.” 

Your hands are clenched, and unclenched, in perfect rhythm as the blood flooding warmly in your veins. Receiving his praise surprisingly feels—good. 

His words feel almost as succulent as the most expensive wine you have ever tasted. You immediately file this new discovery as something that you find as something pleasing. 

Jimin places a knuckle under your chin and lifts your face to look at him. “Hello there, angel.” 

Every single thought in your head is quieted the moment you get to look at Jimin. Evidently, he has taken his time to clean up. His suit is gone, replaced by a silk robe which is almost a matching pair to yours. Even his mask is no longer present, leaving not a single trace of lace to cover his beautiful face. 

You feel like you are dreaming. You have tried to picture him before, more than once. But your imagination doesn’t seem fair enough when you finally get a good look at him. 

You don’t realise how obvious you are in admiring Jimin’s presence until a slow smile grows on his face. He seems amused at your reaction, even if it’s quite clear that you are not the only one to do it. Jimin’s perusing gaze lingers on your face as he brushes his thumb across your cheek. 

“This is the first time you are showing me your face ever since the first night you came to the club,” Jimin muses with his gentle voice. So soft that you almost miss it thanks to the sound of your thundering heart. 

“This is the first time I get to see your face—ever,” you respond with a smile, drawing a soft chuckle from him. 

“I suppose this will be a fair treat for both of us,” Jimin says with a low voice as he lets go of your chin and draws himself back. “Open my robe.” 

Your fingers are slightly shaking as you reach out to him. Dainty fingers pull on the sash binding his robe together until the thin fabric comes apart, revealing his bare chest, his firm torso, and the soft V-line leading down towards his semi hard-on. You cannot resist licking your lips, wishing that you could trace his skin, to run your fingers down the lines on his body and the artful black lines written on the side of his chest. 

A tattoo. How amusing, you wonder, while silently questioning if there is more ink work on other parts of his body that you are going to find. 

You take another second to marvel at this new, unexpected part of him, before your gaze drifts up to his face, waiting for his next instruction. You start to reach up to peel the robe from his shoulders, yet he gently catches your wrist before you can even try. “That’s enough for now, angel.” 

“Ah. Yes, Sir.” 

Jimin tilts his head as he holds your hands in his, gently pulling you up while saying, “Rise, angel. Let me have a good look at you.” 

You can barely feel your legs as you rise, but you barely feel any worries of falling when Jimin keeps a firm hold of your hand with one hand, and your waist on the other. He keeps you balanced when your feet are on the floor and you find yourself swaying. 

“Easy, now,” he teases as helps you steady yourself on your feet. “Good. Now don’t move.” Once he is convinced that you can stand on your own, Jimin steps back. Though he keeps his eyes on you, watching you closely when he says, “I want you out of that robe.” 

With a deep intake of breath, you reach down and pull to untie the sash around your robe. The silky cover comes apart, revealing your bare skin underneath. You can hear the soft intake of breath coming from Jimin, making your skin flush at the thought of him being affected by the sight of your bareness.  

Something else shines through Jimin’s eyes when he looks at you, smouldering with an unnamed intent. Something illicit and dark, sending shivers through your spine. But it also feels delicate and warm, not the kind of sensation that would send you shrinking into the bed and hiding from him. 

Jimin takes a step closer. Then another step. Then he runs his fingers on the front lining of your robe, rising up to your shoulders. “You are beautiful, angel. Exquisite,” he whispers smoothly with his fingers moving your hair back. 

He gently peels your robe off of your shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor, pooling around your bare feet. The tips of his fingers brush against your skin as he does this, prompting a shudder surging through your body. 

“Those fools have no idea what they were missing when they failed to show up tonight,” he murmurs, referring to the club members that were initially chosen for you to have as your master tonight. 

But you have barely thought of them at all. Not since the moment Jimin offered to take the role that has been left vacant in their absence.  

You are lost in your thoughts for a brief moment that you don’t realise how closer he has gotten. Not until you feel the warmth of his words against your lips. His eyes look deeply into yours as he trails his fingers down the length of your bare arms. 

It feels thrilling, the way he is touching you, and the way your body is reacting to the featherlight touches of his fingers. It feels intoxicating, more than what you’ve gained from the drinks you had earlier. Your mind is clouded, and his heated gaze keeps you entranced, making it hard for you to look away, yet your mind is still clear enough to take in everything that is happening at the moment.  

Your gaze falls to his lips. With him leaning so close, all you have to do is tilt your head and your lips would touch each other. But neither of you make a move. 

His eyes move down just then, lingering on your lips. Just when you think he is about to kiss you, Jimin retreats and carefully guides you back to the edge of the bed. “Back on the bed for now, angel. Resume your position for me.” 

Disappointment weighs down your chest, yet you quickly brush it off and keep your voice steady. “Yes, Sir.” 

The loss of this touch makes your skin feel cold, so you hold on to the heat coming out of his eyes as you move back to the bed. Moving under his unwavering gaze makes you feel more hyper-aware of your state of nudity. He isn’t even touching you the way you want him to yet, but you can already feel warmth surging through your skin simply from the intense way his eyes are following every move you make. 

Sitting back on the bed, a gasp slips out of your lips. You are surprised to find how wet you have already gotten underneath, all coming simply from his unwavering attention. The slickness of your arousal isn’t yet intense, but present, sticking on your skin as you settle back with your legs folded beneath you, hands on your lap, your gaze lowered in submission as you wait for his next move. 

Jimin acknowledges your obedience with a nod, and then turns away to make his way across the room, straight to the console table. You watch from under your eyelashes as Jimin moves, his robe flittering on his back. You quickly notice how his slow, yet confident strides hold something different in them more than what you have seen from him before. 

An air of dominance and control. Imposing, but not enough to instil fear, and still as elegant as how you have always seen him. 

Jimin might not be as brunt as the Dominants you’ve learned about from your research through the internet or what was written in the books you’ve read. He isn’t hard and tough. Instead, he is—gentle, while still commanding in his own way. He has a kind of tenderness that serves like a magic spell, one which makes you want to obediently obey and follow. He lights up the desire you have in you to submit to his every will, to please him, without having to say too much. 

The way he feels so comfortable in his own skin also amazes you. Looking at his back, you almost forget that he is bare underneath. The way he embraces himself puts you in awe, that you cannot help but continue admiring him. 

As Jimin reaches the console table, he holds out his hand and begins running his fingers on the assortment of instruments and toys being displayed, and you inadvertently straighten your back. Jimin seems to be taking his time perusing the playthings on the table, causing your nerves to spark as you anticipate what’s coming next.

“You requested to experience a complete submission. Is that right, angel?” he gently asks, and for a moment, your brain nearly fails to register his question before you finally find your voice again,  

“Yes, Sir. I did.” 

Jimin looks over his shoulder. “Now that you’ve seen everything we’ve prepared for your playtime tonight, you haven’t changed your mind, have you?” 

You lick your lips. “No, Sir.”

“Good,” he says with a hum. “Before we start—” Jimin angles his body to look at you, and the light from the ceiling falls on his covered back, allowing you to see through his sheer robe to see some more ink work lining down his spine. 

“Pick a safeword, angel.” 

You drag your eyes away from his back, looking at his face as you consider your choice of safeword, before deciding to go with what your mind is more familiar with. “Red,” you answer him with a soft voice. “Red means to stop.”  

His lips twitch with a knowing smile. “Favourite colour?” 

You shake your head. “Not really. It’s just easier to remember when I suddenly need to use it.” 

Humming to himself, Jimin nods. “Good thinking,” he compliments you, his eyes glinting under the lights as he looks at you to say, “I personally love your choice.” 

Jimin turns his attention back to the table, and as the robe on his body moves along with him, you finally get to see the vague lines of his back tattoo through the sheer fabric. 

Moon phases. How fitting. 

Your gaze is pulled back onto Jimin’s hands as he moves to trace his fingers across the items on the table. As he reaches for the silk and hemp ropes, your skin grows tight with excitement. 

Bondage is something that you are still unfamiliar with. But you had clearly stated in your request today that it would be something that you would be interested to learn and do through the session should your partner—your master—be willing. 

As your host, you know damn well that Jimin would have taken account of this part of your request. And he seems to be making it clear to you that he is more than willing to introduce you to this form of play tonight. 

With a gentle hand, Jimin picks up the silk rope. He plays with the fabric in his fingers for a moment, feeling its texture. He then moves on to the next items, perusing them as closely as he did with the binding materials provided for him. Your core grows warm as he touches one of the small toys and starts filtering through the plugs. Then he moves on again, allowing you a brief relief, only until he brushes his fingers against the collection of clamps in various shapes and sizes that you saw previously. 

“How much can you endure pain?” he asks you while he carefully browses through each item while sneaking glances at you from over his shoulder. 

You lick your lips. Tingles run through your body as you try to imagine all the things he could possibly do to you, as you picture the previous experiences you’ve had when it comes to finding pleasure through inflicted pain. 

“I tolerate them quite fairly.” 

“Have you tried these?” As Jimin turns and lifts his hand for you to see, a golden chain hangs from his fingers. A clinking sound draws your eyes to the ends of the chain, where a set of clamps is seen hanging from it, glimmering in the shade of gold. The thin piece of gold looks like a regular piece of jewellery in his hand. And yet it’s hard for you to marvel at its beauty when you that it serves a completely different purpose when used. 

“Not yet, Sir.” 

Nodding, Jimin puts the clamps back in their place without asking further questions. Then he reaches out to the lines of thin fabric which you identify as blindfolds and mouth covers. 

“Blindfold?” he offers with a raised brow. 

“No,” your answer comes out easily before you even have the chance to mull it over. “Not tonight. I want to be able to look at you.” 

Jimin lets out a soft chuckle as he finally turns away from the table. His mind is already made up with what kind of play he wants to have with you. His determined eyes look straight at you as he steps closer with a silky fabric in his hands—which looks more like a ribbon instead of the rope he was playing with—yet the smile you see on his face softens all the tension in your body. 

“How are you doing, angel? You’re still okay?”

“Yes, sir.” You lick your lips. “Quite nervous,” you admit. Desperate for a distraction, you look down on his hands as he slides the thin strip of silk through his fingers. He plays around with the soft material while keeping his eyes on you, taking in your honest reaction. 

“Give me your hands. I want to try something before we continue.” 

Jimin’s deliberate tone stills your heartbeat. You slowly raise your palms, inches from his waist. The silk strip is soon wound around your wrists, his deft fingers carefully securing the knot just as you begin to tremble. Once he is done, Jimin brings your bound wrists to his chest and slips a finger between your wrist and the fabric to make sure the bond isn’t too tight.  

Keeping your bound wrists to his chest, he draws your attention to his face as his lips are pulled into a slow smile. “Tonight, I’m just another guest,” Jimin says to you once he gains your attention, “I am only here to please you, to guide you as your master. Tonight, you are mine to take care of and give pleasure to, but you are to listen to what I say so we can both find pleasure at the end of this session. Is that clear?” 

You respond to him with a nod, yet he immediately makes a disapproving noise with his tongue. “From now on, you will respond to me with your words every time I speak to you. Is that clear, angel?” 

A whisper of a breath leaves your lips before you finally answer, “Yes, Sir.” 

His smile returns. “Now repeat to me. What is your safeword again?” 

“Red.” 

“Very good. Do you willingly put yourself in my hands tonight?” he asks, while he gently strokes the side of your body with his free hand, lightly digging his fingers into your bare back while his thumb grazes the side of your breast. 

“Y-yes, Sir,” you answer with a gasp as he presses down on your skin. 

“If you want to slow down, or if you’re not feeling sure about continuing and need a moment to take a breath, you can also use ‘yellow’ to let me know, and I’ll hold back for you. Use ‘red’ only if you want to stop.” Releasing your secured wrists, Jimin tilts your chin up to get you to look at him. “But you must remember that red or stop means everything ends, and I will put our play to a complete stop, and there’s where we end the night. Do you understand?” 

You give him a quick nod. “Yes, Sir.” 

“Do you trust me?” 

With your gaze locked on his, you answer him firmly with, “I do.” 

Pleased with your answer, he gently pulls you up from your current position. “Sit on the end of the bed for me, angel.” With one hand on your bound wrists, Jimin holds you steady, while he uses his other hand to help you unfold your legs and let them hang on the side of the bed. 

“Easy. Lie down for me.” He bends down with you as he lowers you down to the bed until you are lying on your back. 

His gentle hands run down the sides of your body once more as he helps you settle down on top of the silky sheets, taking account of every dent and curve forming your figure. His touch then traces down your thighs, carefully rising them up until your knees are bent and the heels of your feet are resting right on the edge of the mattress. Then he reaches up, palms gripping your hips before pulling you back down a bit closer to the edge of the bed. 

“Open your legs for me, angel,” he murmurs, and you easily comply, spreading yourself to expose your bare center. He gives you an appreciative hum as he glides his hands back up, guiding your arms above your head. The tips of your fingers brush against the covers, and he helps you get a grip on the soft fabric before letting you go. 

Once he positions himself between your knees, his hands are immediately back on your legs, and they start moving slowly up your thighs. He keeps going upward, tracing his palms up the curve of your hips, to your waist, brushing the sides of your breasts as he continues his way up. 

His featherlight touches on your skin have your body trembling, your senses coming alight, warmth surging down south to where you are bare and exposed to his eyes. 

But those pretty eyes of his never waver from your face. Not even as he bends forward, covering your body with the length of his until his face is so close to yours. 

“Hold on tight and don’t let go,” he whispers close as he slowly moves down until he is kneeling on the floor, his face disappearing between your legs. 

He runs his hands back up your thighs. A velvety touch that draws a myriad of sensations through your body. Then his fingers slip down towards your center, sliding right between your thighs to find your mounds. You immediately grow damp as Jimin draws a finger up between your folds. Your body immediately quakes with pent-up desire in response to his touch. Your hips rise, hoping to press down against his touch, only to have him pulling away. 

“Jimin,” you gasp.

“Yes, angel?” he coyly asks as he bends down and starts teasing your inner thighs with soft, tickling kisses. It draws soft gasps slipping out of your lips, before your breath is caught in your throat the more he rises closer to your center. His hands move down just then, settling on your spread knees to keep you from writhing off of the bed. 

“Touch me, please.” 

“Hmmm, I don’t recall ever agreeing to let you give orders, angel,” he gently chastises you, his lips never wavering too far from your skin. “You promised that you are mine tonight, remember? That means you are mine to do with as I wish.” 

A soft groan escapes your lips. You cannot help it. You are growing desperate already and his teases keep testing your patience. 

“Are you sure you want me to touch you?” 

“Yes, please!” you nearly scream. The desperation you feel is clawing at your chest. Unable to move your arms, you clench your hands tightly on the silky sheets the same way you wish you could pull his head towards your pulsing core.  

His teeth scrape up your inner thigh, and you finally cry out. But when he doesn’t move any closer to your center, you arch your body upwards, nearly shoving your hips towards his face to chase his lips. 

“Hold still,” he gently reprimands you with his grip tightening on your thighs. “You will not move, angel. No matter what I do. Not until I say you can. Do you understand?” 

You suck a deep breath and swallow, nodding your head before you remember his command to speak. “Uh, yes. I understand.”

Please. 

You swallow back the word that you want so much to say. Even if you have no idea what you are begging him for.  

Jimin grabs your hips and yanks your body down towards him, your bottom only lying partly on the bed and your legs hanging in the air as he lifts them upward, knees still bent and raised until your legs are partly folded above you. As if he heard your plea, Jimin dips back down and focuses on your center, his hands moving directly to the place where you need him the most. 

Jimin wastes no time. You barely see or hear him move, when suddenly, two fingers plunge deep into your drenched pussy, drawing a scream from your lips. Your hips buck upward, nearly hitting Jimin right in the chin, and he immediately draws his fingers out. 

“That is one,” he says, almost sounding pleased, while you are too far gone to make sense of what he is saying.

Jimin cups your chin and guides you to meet his gaze. “Angel? Did you hear me?” 

Whining, you shake your head vehemently and whimper, “N-no, Sir. I didn’t.” 

Jimin bites back his grin. Your eyes are glazed with lust, yet you can still see the amused look on his face, as if he is enjoying the way you keep defying him so easily. 

“That was one,” he repeats himself, “One time you disobeyed me after I specifically told you not to.”

He trails his fingers across your hips while your heart flutters in your chest. “I will count each time you fail to follow my command, and once you reach the count of ten, you will be punished. Do you understand, angel?” 

You lick your lips. You know the risk of not following his words and what it may entail, and your heartbeat picks up, only for a different reason other than fear. The promise of punishment shouldn’t excite you so much. Yet it does. “Yes, Sir.” 

“I want you to stay perfectly still, angel. And do not come until I say so. Understand?” 

“Okay. I mean, yes. Yes, Sir,” you answer with a small voice, already feeling the effect of his touch as his fingers begin to trail closer and closer to your heat. 

Your body grows still, waiting for the touch that takes its sweet time to come. But then he stops. His hands disappear from your skin, and he suddenly dives forward and bites down on your inner thigh, making you gasp as your clit throbs in both pleasure and pain. 

Jimin continues, kissing and licking a burning trail towards your mound. A soft growl comes out of him when he tastes your arousal. “Spread your legs wider,” he says, lifting your left leg to rest on his shoulder once you do as he commands. 

A single finger slips inside you, entering your warmth. He moves it gently, swirling and pressing against your hot walls, drawing your cries when his touch finds the spot where you are pulsing with pleasure. 

You let your head fall back as you begin savouring his touch. To feel the waves of raw pleasure building, rising, and pooling right at your core before they begin to spread all over your body. Yet Jimin never gives you the chance to relish it, as he suddenly draws his finger back out, leaving your hot walls clenching onto nothing. 

In desperate need to chase the dwindling pleasure, to feel him inside you again, your hips rise before you realise it happening. A deep chuckle is heard, letting you know that you have messed up. 

“How many, angel?” 

His voice is soft, yet it still brings shivers down your spine as you breathe out. “T-two.”

“Seems like you’ll need more practice about control,” he hums softly. You open your eyes, your gaze blurry as you watch him licking his finger. A soft whimper slips out of you, then he lowers his hands once more. You feel his fingers trailing down your inner thighs, making their way back to your pulsing center. His lips follow close, replacing his touch as he leaves a brief, teasing kiss on your mound. 

“Hmmm,” Jimin hums before returning for more, pressing his lips on your slick folds and licking your arousal, “You taste delicious, angel. Like a drop of bourbon. Sweet, and delectable.” 

While he keeps whispering sweet, sultry words, your words slip away from your mind. Every hot breath falling on your skin as he continues trailing his lips on your mound—going across, between, up, and then down—sends goosebumps through your body. Each time, you feel him taking a deep breath, as if soaking in your scent while he continues tasting you, all while murmuring pleasantries to tell you how intoxicating it is to breathe in the heady fragrance from your body. 

Your thighs tremble as you struggle to hold back, not wanting to break his rule one more time even when you can feel your body twitching, your hips in desperate need to thrust upward into his lips so he would devour you. You fight so hard that you are beginning to find it hard to catch your breath. 

“Please,” you softly beg, “I can’t.” 

“Yes, you can,” Jimin mumbles against your skin. 

“Please, Sir.” The desperate whisper comes out with a hoarse voice, and it takes away all of your focus. 

Everything that happens next unfolds before you can stop it. 

Jimin’s lips hover above your hot center, his warm breath coats the slickness that has been building between your slit. You feel the briefest of a kiss right before a finger slides back in, pushing deep just as his mouth clamps around your clit. Sparks fly underneath your eyelids while your inner walls begin clenching around his finger, and you cannot stop yourself from rocking your hips, following each pulse of pleasure that is brewing inside you as you push to grind your center against his mouth. 

Anything you try to do to stop the waves of pleasure from continuing to build fails as Jimin slides two fingers inside you, curling them up against your sweet spot, and you immediately lose every last control you still have. 

Your pussy draws tightly around him, and just as you feel the coil loosening and snapping inside you, he bites your inner thigh, hard, just a mere inch away from your pulsing core.

With a cry, your body jolts and arches, and your hips begin rocking in the same rhythm as the pulse rising in your body. Your body rises from the bed once, twice, and right before you cross over the edge at the third rocking, everything stops when Jimin laps the mark he left behind with his bite and pulls back. 

“Still counting, angel? Where are we now?” 

“I—” You gasp, finding trouble to catch your breath and to focus on his voice. “I can’t—” 

“Don’t lie to me, angel. You don’t want me to add your punishment for defying me, do you?” 

Sucking a deep breath, you try to count how many times you felt your body rocking against him. “Six, sir. That was six. I—I think.”  

Jimin hums. “The numbers seem to be rising. Are you deliberately letting yourself go just to test me? Are you that curious to know what kind of punishment you’re getting if you keep disobeying me?” 

You shake your head as you look up at him. “N-no, Sir. I wouldn’t dare.” 

With a smirk on his face, Jimin presses his lips on your quivering thigh. “Prove it to me, angel. Try a bit harder to hold back. Remember, you’re not allowed to cum until I allow you to. If you dare cum, we’ll make it twice the count. Is that clear?” 

Pressing your lips together, you stop yourself from crying out a protest. Only for another sound to come out of your lips when Jimin dips back down between your legs, and he isn’t using his hands this time to push you over the edge. 

Without warning, he dips his tongue deep between your swollen nether lips, searching for your opening. You let out a sharp cry at the invasion but do nothing to move away. The sinful touch of his lips and tongue feels like heaven, it sends your body straight towards the height of pleasure. 

Jimin stills your convulsing hips with his hands as he continues to move his tongue in circles, lapping at your pussy like a man with pure hunger. He trails his tongue up your labia, drinking in your essence and tasting every drop of your slickness, before moving back down until he reaches your tight back hole. 

The sound of your moans increases, growing more intense the more your excitement grows in you when you feel him rimming the floret. His fingers work your lower lips, right where his mouth has been, which keeps flooding with drops of your arousal. Jimin smiles against your heat, as if he knows that you might explode and come to climax at any given time if he continues like this. 

You try to focus on holding still, to stop the telltale of your orgasm from manifesting before you are allowed to make it happen. But Jimin isn’t giving up on testing your limit just yet. 

He gives a few more licks before his mouth moves back up, finding your folds, his tongue slipping between your slit to press against your opening. When his tongue finds purchase, his teeth grazing at your clit, he presses a finger at your back entrance and slips a knuckle in. You are too far gone in the erupting pleasure to stop it from unleashing. Your orgasm takes over your body like a massive wave, and you let everything go with a scream. 

Tears trail down your cheeks at how intense it feels, your release breaking down the barrier you try so hard to put up. Your back arches up to the ceiling when the wave of your climax comes rushing in, while your entire body quakes with your release. 

Jimin kisses your skin with a soft growl, snapping you out of it. You are still struggling to catch your breath when Jimin gently lowers your leg and begins crawling his way up on the bed, covering you with his warmth. Making a sound with his tongue, he takes your bounded hands and carefully loops them around his neck. You open your eyes as he pulls you up against him, taking you with him as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. 

His arms come wrapping around you as he brings you onto his lap, and you instantly collapse against his chest, turning boneless in his embrace. “I’m sorry,” you whisper to him, “I couldn’t—”

Jimin silences you with a gentle kiss on your temple. “That was quite a show, angel.” He begins kissing away your tears. “Quite an intense one.” 

You gasp when you realise what has just transpired. The spasms of your unbidden release are surging through you together with your pulsing blood. “I tried—” 

“I know,” he coos softly, soothing you, yet there is a glint of knowing in his eyes when he pulls back, his thumb brushing away the remaining tears on your cheeks. “Your body must have grown more sensitive from being stimulated continuously, and I wasn’t making it easy for you knowing that this might be the first time someone else is taking control of your pleasure,” he confesses with a smile on his face that doesn’t show any hint of remorse. “But rules are still rules, angel. You know that.” 

“Yes, I understand.” 

“Good girl,” he says, those simple words light up some fire in your chest. and your mind begins to spin, floating higher just as he carefully lifts you up from his lap. 

Needing to have something to grab onto so you can ground yourself, your fingers find the strands of his hair, sinking into them before grasping at them. When Jimin finally releases you, he gently lays you back onto the mattress. 

He smiles at you as he unlatches your arms from around his neck, bringing them up over your head again. 

“Look at me, angel,” he whispers while looking at you with a deep, smouldering gaze, and you are powerless to look away. “Have you been keeping count of how many times you disobeyed me with that last release? What are we at now?” 

Recalling what he says earlier about giving twice the punishment should you let yourself come to climax without his permission, you swallow hard before answering, “That would make it e-eight, Sir?” 

“Very good,” he praises you once again, bringing back that same flutter in your chest when he smiles. With gentle movement, he carefully moves you up to the center of the mattress, giving you a brief moment of respite. “Now stay still for a moment. Are your arms hurting? You can lower them for a while as you wait.” 

You bite your lips. “Can’t I take the silk tie off?” 

Jimin chuckles. “No, angel. You need to keep those hands tied so I know you’ll behave.” 

Slowly, you lower your arms to your chest, giving yourself a little break even if your wrists are still tied up together. “They aren’t too tight, are they?” Jimin asks while cupping your cheek. He watches you closely as you try to get comfortable against the silky sheets. 

“No, Sir,” you answer after pulling and twisting your hands to test the tension, finding them quite loose, even if the bind will not fall apart if you pull harder. 

“Good. Now try to relax and stay still for a moment,” Jimin says as he slowly moves away. “I’m going to prepare everything we need.” 

The moment he disappears from view, your curiosity grows. You wish you could see what he is doing, but your position makes it hard for you to look across the room. Unless you want to defy his command and lift your body from the mattress just to get a look at him. After a moment of silence passes, you begin to feel uneasy. 

“Jimin?” 

“I’m here, angel. I’m not going anywhere far,” he reassures you, as if he knows how vulnerable you are feeling when he is not in sight while you are lying naked and frustrated. 

But it doesn’t take long before he returns. You can hear him setting down a few items on the side of the bed and fiddling with them before making his way round to your end of the bed to return to you. 

“Move all the way back on the bed, angel. Against the pillows, and keeps your legs apart, knees up.” 

Licking your lips, you slowly roll to your side and rise on your hands and knees, before you begin crawling your way up the bed. You can feel his gaze on you as you move, your bare bottom exposed to his eyes, and your arousal still dripping down the top of your thighs. Feeling his gaze on you, your hips instinctively start swaying just to give him a show, even if you are struggling a little with your wrists still bound together.  

You feel completely hyperaware of everything as you gingerly position yourself at the top of the bed with your back resting against the pillows. Your skin feels warm under his gaze, and while he isn’t the one touching you, your skin tingles as you gently lift your knees up, keeping them bent as you spread your legs apart for him. 

The bed dips as Jimin climbs onto the bed to follow you. His movement is graceful, even as he crawls on the mattress like a predator coming to his prey. The dark look in his eyes distracts you enough to make you miss the item he is carrying in his hands until he kneels back, towering over you with his gaze running down your body. 

“Give me your hands.” 

You gingerly show him your hands, still tied together at the wrist with the silk slip. With a tug, Jimin releases the bind, freeing your hands together. You draw a gasp as the blood flows through your skin again, drawing a soft chuckle from Jimin as he watches closely at your reaction. 

“Don’t look so relieved just yet, angel. I’m taking this off because I have something better to replace it.” He smiles to you, before revealing the bundle in his hand—a lengthy silk rope in the colour of red, almost as thick as the hemp rope you saw on the table earlier. “I wonder if taking away your control completely will help you submit easier. That’s why I brought this over to help us out.” 

Swallowing hard, your skin grows warm at the implication of his words, right as he unravels the thick silk rope. Its length seems sufficient enough for him to have it wrapped around all over your body. To have not only your limbs restricted from any movement, but your entire self, taking away your control. 

A complete submission. 

Your heart races at a thundering pace, realising that Jimin is about to fulfil your wish. You gently move your body, arching your chest and trying to find comfort as he gets closer. A smile flickers on his face as he watches your reactions, and then it fades when he takes your hands in his. 

“Did you know that years ago, when this club first opened for business, this room, specifically, had a different name?” Jimin questions you as he untangles the silk rope right before your eyes. “Back then, this room was called the Bondage Room.”

You lick your lips, doing your best to control your breath, to focus on his words, and not fall under the excitement rising inside your chest. 

Jimin continues while he gently stretches out the silk rope until it unravels to its full length, “But with other, more discreet, and well-extinguished clubs housing Doms and subs, we didn’t have as much request from them to use this room, except for the regular Doms who have then become our earliest VIP members and would always come back for more. The smaller Play Rooms were being developed at the same time, and these rooms intrigued more people, so we added this special room as one of the optional Play Rooms to make it less”—a grin appears on his face—”imposing.” 

“Intriguing,” you whisper with a hum, your voice coming out small. You clear your throat, hoping that your voice is steady when you speak again, “That’s quite an intense name for such a room. But—” You look around the room, only just as much as your position allows you to, and then add, “Well, compared to the rooms I’ve looked up online, I don’t think this room is—” 

“Adequate enough to earn its name?” He softly chuckles. “Oh, these furnitures aren’t the only things the club prepared for the room to serve its purpose.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Do they come out of the storage when someone like me, or a client, requests them to? Just like—” You take a deep breath, then release, your eyes flickering to the rope in his hands. “Like these tools and toys we’re using?” 

“Oh, they’re all here. They’re always ready to be used,” he muses as he pulls one end of the silk rope with one hand, and uses the other hand to tilt your chin up, drawing your eyes far upwards instead of stopping on his face, “You’re just not seeing them yet.” 

You look up, and sure enough, you see them. Up on the ceiling, there are sets of lattices of steel grids and tracks. The muted flecks of light are reflected against hooks and carabiners tethered to thin girders on the corners of the room. You can even see those same hooks hanging right above your head, spread between the tall pillars rising on each corner of the bed which seem strong enough to hold the entire length of silk rope—or the hemp rope that Jimin prepared—should he choose to use them. 

“We’re not playing with these hooks yet,” Jimin explains, as if he knows where your mind is running off to. “You’ll get there one day, once you’ve gotten used to it.” 

You bite your lips, trying not to get too excited when you hear the implications he is giving you; the chance for more, somewhere in the future. 

“Have you, um—” You are not sure how to ask, or if you have any rights to, but your curiosity gets the better of you. “Have you used this room before?” 

The smile that Jimin wears on his face deepens. “I was the man they hired to put this room to a test before it was opened for the rest of the guests.”  

His answer surprises you, yet it drives your mind spinning, both with anticipation and relief, knowing that you have gotten the perfect partner—the perfect master—to guide you through this whole thing. You immediately start looking at Jimin in a different light when your gaze finds him again, before you are lost in the intensity you see in his eyes when he looks at you. 

Jimin lowers his face, holding his gaze on yours as he presses gentle kisses on your fingers, palms, and wrists, soothing the tingles you still feel from the first bind with his lips. His kisses linger right where the silk strip was wrapped around your skin, sending shudders throughout your body. 

His gaze, his kisses, and his touch are so enthralling that you cannot look away, distracting you from his other hand as he slowly brings the silk rope around your wrists, starting with one before going to the other.  

His fingers are gentle against your skin, and his gaze is soft. He easily takes away any tension you still have in your body when he begins his work. Instead of feeling anxious, you find your body relaxing under his touch, even as your control is being restrained as Jimin ties your wrists together. 

Still with his eyes on yours, he finishes and leans down to kiss your wrist again, pressing his lips right on top of the silk rope holding your hands together. Once again, he does the same thing as before, testing the bind and slipping his fingers between the rope and your skin to make sure there is enough space to keep you from getting hurt. 

“I need you to tell me everything you are feeling. Everything that goes through your mind. And don’t feel scared to use your safewords anytime you need them. Okay, angel?” 

Your breath is heavy when you pull it in, but you still manage to answer, “Yes, Sir. Okay.” 

He smiles. “Very good,” he says, as he pulls the tails from the silk rope and lays the rest of the lengths on either side of you. 

“How are you now? Comfortable?” 

“Yes,” you breathe out. Your voice fades to a soft gasp as his fingers run gently down the column of your throat, before moving up to your chin. His eyes are slightly dark and hazy as he runs his thumb across your lips. 

“I’m going to tie you to the bed to stop you from moving and fighting me. Make sure to loosen up your body and relax. Don’t fight me if you don’t want to hurt yourself trying. Understand?” 

“Yes. I understand,” you whisper breathlessly. Your voice is nearly drowned under the sound of your thundering heart as you anticipate his next move. 

Another gasp slips out of you as Jimin presses a firm grip on your hips and guides you to slide forward. Settling deeper into the silk pillows, you try not to panic when he presses your palms to his lips, one side and then the other, and then stretches your now restrained arms over your head. 

Using one hand, he holds you still in position, while he moves his other hand to gather around the silk rope. You feel a tug as he winds the rope around the bars on the headboard, tethering you to the bed frame so that you won’t be able to move your arms anymore. 

He brings the rest of the rope down, wrapping it around your arms, down and under your shoulders. Then he winds it above and under your breasts, framing your soft mounds and giving them a bit of tension. You can feel your skin tightening under the bind, your nipples becoming slightly more sensitive as the blood in your veins seems to gather at those gentle peaks, that even a brush of chill air makes them pucker. 

“Still green, angel?” Jimin asks you as he pauses briefly, gauging your reaction. 

The sound of your pulsing blood makes it hard for you to think for a moment. But then his words sink in, and you try to test the restrain. 

Expecting to feel pain and complete stillness, you are surprised to find that aside from the tension on your wrists and the muscles around your shoulders, you can still find comfort. Your arms may not be able to move, but your chest isn’t tight, and your breath isn’t restrained, even if every part of your body and your skin has become more responsive to every sensation being delivered to you. 

“Yes,” you answer him as you test around the restraint one last time before settling back down. 

“That’s good. Now relax.” Jimin then dips, disappearing from sight for a moment as he moves on the bed. You try to swivel your head and twist so you can see him, but once again, your position obscures you from looking around. 

“Jimin—” You start calling his name, only to feel his hand brushing against your ankle. “I’m not leaving you, angel. You can trust me, can’t you?” 

Exhaling a sigh, you whisper to him, “I’m sorry for doubting you, Sir.” 

You have no idea why you are feeling insecure, to feel anxious whenever he isn’t visible. As if you need his presence to feel calm. 

The restraints on your upper body make you feel self-conscious, vulnerable, yet liberating at the same time, knowing that the only thing you need to do is surrender. Only that you are still finding it hard to completely surrender your control when you have spent your entire life taking control. 

A soft chuckle comes out of Jimin when he hears you. “Shh…no need to apologise. You are doing very well.” 

His praise comes at the same time his gentle fingers begin running down your legs. You see him kneeling between your parted legs when you open your eyes, his fingers drawing circles around your ankles, up to your calves, heading towards your bent knees, yet your bare—and now damp—mound between your thighs becomes his singular focus as he does so. Leaning closer, he makes a humming sound as he appreciates what he sees when he runs his gaze down your body. 

“You are beautiful, angel. Every inch, every curve, as if you are perfectly carved for me,” he murmurs as he bends down, pressing a kiss on the inner sides of your knees. 

As his fingers continue to travel up your thighs, followed closely by his gentle lips, your hips begin to move on their own, grinding down, searching for friction that can ease the intense pulsing growing between your legs. You dig your heels into the mattress for leverage as your body twists and swivels, while at the same time, anchoring yourself, knowing that he needs you to keep still. 

“Please,” you whisper, almost desperately, when you feel his mouth gliding across your skin. “I’m not sure if I can hold still.” Especially when you can almost predict what he is up to, the stimulations he has been giving you are still affecting you that you feel like you have gone off balance and have yet to recover. 

All it took was to have one taste of his touch, his kiss, and the raw pleasure that he gave you, and your body is already craving for more. 

Tiny spasms arise from your core once more as he kisses a trail down the inside of your thigh, causing your legs to tremble. Jimin smiles against your skin when he notices this. He moves his hands to give your thighs a firm grip when you try to close your legs, pinning his head at the center. 

“Are you asking me to bind your legs as well?” he teases you with a sly grin on his face. Keeping one hand on your thigh to keep it still, he moves his other hand up to your center, finding your heat. 

A moan slips out of you the moment you feel his touch on your damp center. “I…I don’t know,” you barely manage to answer, unable to think clearly with the way his fingers are gently grazing your folds. 

Jimin lets out a soft chuckle and says, “Maybe I should. Just to make sure that you won’t be kicking my face when I get too close. But I’m enjoying the way you are wriggling with every touch. I want to see how you respond to me, so I won’t be restraining your legs just yet.” 

You can barely hear any word he says when his kisses continue to trace a burning trail down one thigh, then going back towards your center. His hands slide to your hips, holding you steady as he dips lower. A brief touch of his lips on your folds draws a gasp from you, and then his tongue slips out, lapping briefly between your slick folds as if he wants to have a taste of you. 

The sensation he brings to your body makes you cry out, your body begins shaking, your hips almost rising against his hold, yet he quickly withdraws and starts kissing down the other thigh. 

“How responsive,” he murmurs. You can hear the tremble in his voice, as if looking at you responding to him is affecting him as well. “So beautiful.” 

He pulls back, and you nearly panic when you feel his weight leaving the bed, only to feel it dip on a different side of the mattress. You bite down your sigh of relief knowing that Jimin is still there, but the shuffling sounds you hear next quickly have your curiosity piqued. 

“I have something that I think you might enjoy,” he says as he slowly returns to you. “But obviously, I won’t be making things easy for you.” 

His gaze flickers with something wicked as he looks down on you. His smile makes you swallow hard, making you wonder what kind of nefarious thoughts he has for you. “Do you remember what was our last count for your punishment, angel?” 

You lick your lips as you try to remember through your hazy thoughts. “Um…e-eight?” 

“That’s good. A bit too close to your limit, doesn’t it? Try to focus and keep that number in mind,” he says. His words sound cryptic, leaving you to wonder what he is about to do next. “Now, try to relax and stay still.” 

Jimin runs one hand down the inside of your thigh, not stopping until he reaches your slick folds, once again touching the center of your heat with his gentle fingers. He slides one finger between your folds, moving it up and down your slit until you can feel your slickness coating him. Then he presses his thumb on your clit, moving it in circles, sending spasms of erotic pleasure through your body and causing you to lift your hips. 

Then, all of a sudden, he stops. 

With a gasp, you open your eyes, just in time to see him shaking his head while clicking his tongue. “What did I say about moving?” 

Whining, you press your hips down to the mattress, trying your best to ignore the pulse fluttering in your core. “I’m sorry,” you moan, “I can’t control myself.” 

Jimin hums softly. “Of course, you can, angel. Just follow my words. So how many do we have now?” 

You bite your lips, holding back a moan as you feel his fingers pressing at your folds again. It is hard to focus when his touch feels maddeningly good, filling your head with blissful haze. 

“N-nine,” you answer with a whisper, biting back the moan threatening to come out of your lips when Jimin presses his finger back into your slit, pressing at your entrance. 

“Good job, angel,” he praises you, before pulling his hand away. “Now, remember to focus on your breath.” 

You feel another pressure at your mound. A different kind this time. Instead of his finger, you feel a firm, cool piece of rubber or silicon pressing at your entrance. 

Is it a vibrator? You wonder as Jimin continues pressing until the toy slides into your pulsing walls. 

Grabbing the silk rope hanging between your wrists and the headboard and pressing your heels into the sheets, you try to find leverage to hold on, stopping your body from moving and wriggling against your restraint. The toy continues to slip deeper inside you, pressing against your sweet spot. You feel a different part of the toy resting against your clit once Jimin stops pressing it, while the rest of the length is perfectly buried inside your throbbing walls. 

Nothing is happening yet. But your body has grown so sensitive after all of his teasing and his wicked foreplays, the muscles inside your slick pussy have been throbbing after your initial release, already needing more, that even the subtle pressure you feel coming from the toy feels almost too much for you to handle. With a flick of a finger, Jimin makes sure that the toy is settling nicely inside you, drawing a tiny moan from your lips while your body shudders in your restraints. 

“Take a deep breath, angel. Slowly,” he gently guides you, his calm voice penetrating through the fog that has been blinding you, making you realise that you have your breath caught in your throat as you relish the peculiar sensation of being filled with a firm toy inside you. 

Taking shallow breaths, you continue until your chest no longer feels constricted. With air in your lungs, everything in you seems to wake up, allowing you to relax, and to feel. “That’s perfect. Good job, angel.” 

His praises keep coming, and your body keeps reacting to it. Your heart always picks up at his encouraging words, and your skin always grows warm. But more importantly, an unusual sensation rises from within, as if each praise he gives only brings your carnal desire back to life instead of soothing it to calm. 

“Are you ready, angel? Remember to control your breath. Remember not to move or lift your hips, just surrender and take everything,” he says, his fingers rubbing at your clit, before gliding up and down your parted folds, feeling the area where you are stretched enough to allow the toy to fill you up. 

“And lastly,” he whispers while leaning down over you as his fingers find the tip of the toy, his lips hovering close to your ear when he says, “Remember that you cannot cum until I tell you to.” 

Before you can make sense of what he is asking you, you feel a click, and the vibrator starts buzzing to life. Gasping at the sudden rush of pleasure rising inside, you begin crying, yelping, twisting against your restraint, all while whining, “Oh, God. Jimin, I…I don’t think I can—” A gasp comes through you when the vibrator keeps pressing at your sweet spot as it continues vibrating against your pulsing muscles. 

Through the haze of your arousal and pleasure, you are somewhat aware of Jimin’s attention. His gaze never strays away from you, as he focuses on your face, watching the slight arch of your body as you respond to the toy’s impact within your hot core, and mostly, to watch as you keep getting pushed towards your limit and fighting to hold it back.  

As he watches your legs twitching, he immediately gives a light touch on the toy, pressing it further inside you, before he begins moving the toy as it vibrates inside you. 

In and out the toy slips through your walls. Each vibration feels like it’s growing harder each time it is pressed into your depth, while its girth keeps pushing against your slick walls. And then he ends it by pushing it as deep as it can inside you, pushing until there is nowhere else for it to go, and nothing else for you to feel except for the maddening pleasure it is giving you.

There is no helping you against what happens next. 

Everything inside you snaps. Your body rocks at the telltale waves of your climax, your hips moving to respond to each pulse of pleasure you feel fluttering inside your core. 

Then his gentle fingers move around the toy, finding your swollen clit and giving it a light pinch. Immediately, you are sent right to the edge. And you are ready for it. Ready to embrace your final release, the orgasm that you feel building inside you, ready to take over. 

But just when you rise from the mattress to let yourself fall over to bliss, the vibrator suddenly stops, leaving you panting and hanging right on the edge. 

You open your eyes when Jimin’s touch disappears from your body. A slick grin on his face when he teases you, “Bad girl. How many does that one make our count, hmmm?” 

Your brain feels like a mush that you fail to understand what he means, still annoyed from being denied of your release, until you realise—

“Ah…it’s t-ten.” 

Tilting his head, Jimin makes a humming sound that feels like a taunt. “A shame, but that’s already at our limit, isn’t it?” 

Slowly, you nod, completely losing your voice this time when the fear of punishment suddenly sinks in. 

“Shall we try again?” Jimin asks you, “Should I give you one last chance to avoid punishment?”  

You lick your lips and force your body to relax. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you wait until the last spasms of pleasure start to ebb before nodding your head. “Yes, Sir,” you whisper to him as you open your eyes, just in time to see his gaze darkening. 

You feel the click rather than hear it, and the vibrator buzzes back to life, sending you an overwhelming feeling of pleasure so intense you find yourself on the verge of pain. Already, you are panting, but you try to control your breath, holding on as much as you can to not let yourself get thrown over the edge. 

There is no helping it. You can feel it rising; the telltale of your orgasm coiling at the core, building up faster and harder than before. Yet you are ready for it this time. Taking a deep inhale of breath, you focus on breathing, on the tight clutch of your bind as you pull it downwards, and the way your heels are sinking into the silky sheets. 

“You’re doing a good job, angel,” Jimin murmurs as he presses his lips up your inner thigh. He rests one hand on your lower belly, gently pressing down, while you feel his other hand gliding its way up your calve. “Let’s take it another notch and make it fun, shall we?” 

The first thing you feel next is a nudge, as Jimin reaches between your legs and gently touches the vibrator. A resounding click is heard before the vibration intensifies. Its sound fills the room, going just as wild as the tremor it spreads through your body. 

You let out a cry, which quickly turns into a series of moans as Jimin begins to move the toy in and out of your pussy, sliding it between your throbbing walls to incite various new sensations through your body, while pressing the part which meets your clit to have it nudging against your soft flesh, pushing the waves of pleasure to a whole new level. 

“Please, Jimin. I can’t—” 

You can almost hear Jimin’s murmur, yet his voice is drowned under the heightening pulse filling your ears. The vibrator continues to move under Jimin’s guidance for a few more thrusts, then you feel him bending over your center. The next thing you feel is the invading toy settling deep inside your hot walls, the push has it pressing against your sweet spot, and the last restraint holding your hips down vanishes as your body arches up. 

You are close. So close. Incoherent noises continue coming out of you while your body is engulfed in the waves of pleasure. You are already coming so close to your release, and now you are hanging by a thread with need. “I’m—” you gasp, feeling it coming, the rise of your orgasm becoming uncontrollable, and you are powerless to stop it. “I—” 

And then, once again, everything stops. 

Right the second your climax is about to take form, the vibrator shuts down, taking away the rising heat, the intense pulses, breaking everything down while leaving you teetering on the edge. You are panting, your chest heaving as you struggle for air, and not too surprised to find your hips rising from the bed, chasing for that final release with slow, steady rocking. 

But the moment you meet Jimin’s eyes, his lips forming a sly grin, you quickly realise what just happened. 

“That was quite a shame. You were doing so well,” Jimin says with a soothing voice, while his gentle fingers are rubbing your hips as he lowers them back on the bed. “How many does that make our count in total, angel?” 

Still gasping for air, and feeling the hum of your denied orgasm lingering in your body, making your skin grow even tighter than before, you find it hard to find your voice. Much less to answer. Then Jimin pulls the vibrator out of you when a gentle tug, causing you to hiss, both at the pressure you feel as it slides against your clenching walls and for the sudden emptiness which follows after. 

You can feel your muscles throbbing, contracting, searching for purchase, yet finding nothing to grasp onto. 

“Angel? Can you hear me?” 

Swallowing a whine, you exhale a shaky breath and answer, “Yes.” 

“Hmmm,” Jimin hums as he slowly crawls over you, his body hovering on top of yours, which helps you notice the tremors still rushing down your body. “Do you recall how many we have now?” 

You gasp. “Eleven,” you whisper breathlessly as you look into his eyes through the haze of your arousal. 

“Quite a good number, but unfortunate that it means we’ve gotten past ten,” he whispers with a teasing grin. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back, only to have him leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. 

You feel his hand rubbing gently on your waist to soothe you. “Like I said, there’s nothing to apologise for, angel. But you do know what that means, don’t you?” 

“Are you going to punish me, Sir?” 

“Maybe,” he murmurs, with his gaze moving lower, taking in his work as your chest rises and falls under the restraint of the silk rope, “perhaps we can use this to test how much you can truly endure pain.” 

His voice sounds almost like a purr as he says this. His eyes linger on your bare breasts for a moment, marvelling at your skin, the puckered mounds, and your hardening nipples. 

“I have something else in mind that I want to try with you,” he says once his gaze finds yours again, “One last thing to try before I make you come. This is something that I very much enjoy, but I need to know if you are down to try it with me.” 

“I think I’d like to learn more,” you answer him before biting your bottom lip. You are feeling too many things at once already, and still curious to see what he has in mind. After going through all his previous treatments—his tests—you decide it would only be right to continue and see through the end. 

“I’m happy to hear that,” he says, sounding proud and relieved, which tells you that you have made the right call.

You wish nothing more but to please him. It is a peculiar feeling, when your reason to come to this club was to seek pleasure, and yet, you find yourself being the one to feel the need to please your beautiful host. 

Just like any other sub would to their Doms. 

Jimin moves away from the bed, though not completely out of view. But he takes away the warmth that he made you feel with it. 

Your body is still on high alert. The remaining spasms of your unbidden bliss are nothing more but a slow, languid pulse in your body, yet they still show no sign of waning anytime soon. You may not be able to see him from this angle, but the quiet lets you know something is about to happen. The clinking sound of a chain moving that you hear as he returns gives you a hint of what comes next. 

Needing something to hold on to, something that can help keep you grounded, you entwine your fingers with one another and clench them.

You try to focus on the sounds again, to steal a glance at what he has prepared for you, but he quickly distracts you with his sinful lips. 

Positioning himself once again between your legs, he runs his hands up the curves of your body, his lips quickly following close behind as he trails a soothing kiss on your skin. Starting from your hips, to your waist, and then he brushes his lips across the underside of your breasts, following the stretched line of the silk rope binding you there, before continuing his way up the mounds. 

“How lovely,” he murmurs, palming your breasts and squeezing them gently. “And so perfect.”

Your chest is filled with warm flutters as Jimin continues cherishing your bare breasts, stroking and pinching them, before he leans down and begins kissing and licking, sucking and biting, taking his time as he gives equal attention to each side. Shocks of pain and pleasure shoot through your body. His eyes flicker to your face, searching for your eyes as he fastens his mouth around one nipple. He flicks his tongue around the flesh and starts sucking on it until the tender bud turns firm. 

Your eyes flutter close at the sensation he is making you feel. And then his mouth leaves your skin, hovering close as he blows softly on the hardened nipple for a brief moment, before a searing pain suddenly consumes you. 

Your hips buck at the rush of pain, rising from the bed, and you scream as the sensation tears through your body, feeling it going straight down to your pussy. Your eyes fly open and you gaze down, noticing the small clamp attached to your nipple, glimmering in gold under the dim lighting falling over your body. 

You bite your tongue when a specific word is threatening to slip out of you. But you force yourself to focus, finding a different word that won’t immediately stop everything, yet would be enough to give you a moment to process this pain. 

“Yellow!” you gasp as you try to find purchase by tugging at your restrained wrists. “Oh my God, yellow. Please.” 

“Sshh, it’s okay, angel. We’ll slow down,” Jimin whispers to you in a soothing voice. His gentle fingers run down your torso, tracing your skin in a way to soothe you, to distract you from the pain. 

Slowly, your cries turn into soft gasps as you try your best to calm down. In reality, you are too overwhelmed with everything; the pain as the clamp bites tightly at your nipple; the shocking pain that is slowly shifting into pleasure as it reaches the depth of your core; and the way your body is humming in response to the myriad of sensations happening all at once. 

Jimin slides his hand down between your legs, distracting you from the pain as his fingers slip between your slick folds. You feel him pressing at your entrance, before the tip of his finger pushes forward, teasing you with a touch, only for him to pull back. With his lips hovering over the clamp, Jimin blows slowly at your skin before he crawls up and brushes his lips under your ear. 

“Breathe, angel. I’ve chosen the smallest clamp and have it on the lightest setting. I have to attach the other one before we continue so you need to relax.” 

You begin to shake your head violently, your arms pulling at the silk binding you to the bed. “No, not yet. Yellow. Please. Just—just one moment.” 

A deep sigh escapes him as Jimin rises above you. Propping himself on his elbow, he looks into your eyes. “Are you sure?” he asks you with a small smile. “Let me try this one. We’ll get it over with and have both of them on, and if you are still at yellow, I will remove the clamps, will that be okay?” 

“Y-yes, I think so,” you whisper as you try to make up your mind.  

“We need to be sure, angel.” 

You bite your lips, feeling conflicted. You can barely breathe. Your nipple is throbbing under the clamp, yet your clit is pulsing with the same cadence. It feels maddeningly good, and at the same time, confusing. 

How could this much pain push you so close to the edge of ecstasy? 

But the more you feel it, the more it is making you curious to see what comes next. So you welcome this new sensation, believing that there is pure ecstasy at the end. 

And because you trust Jimin with everything you have. 

You lift your gaze to Jimin, finding calmness under the heat of his gaze while his hands are moving on your skin in calming circles. The pain is still there, slowly growing dull as Jimin continues to distract you with his touch. And there is also your desire to try everything all at once tonight. To experience everything that he has to offer while you have the chance to delve into it.

With a deep exhale of sigh, you nod your head to Jimin. “Okay, yeah. I’m ready.” 

“What a brave girl,” he whispers, and he immediately slips his finger into your pussy. Your muscles spasm around his finger, welcoming him and the delightful sensation that comes with it. 

The combination of pain and pleasure nearly overwhelms you. You moan softly while pressing your hips on the mattress to hold back from rocking into Jimin’s hand, to do anything to release the intense pressure gathering inside you. Your toes curl against the sheets when Jimin’s firm lips capture your free nipple, sucking and licking and biting, teasing your soft bud until it grows just as firm as the other. 

His fingers join his mouth soon after. Then he starts pinching lightly as his mouth comes off your skin. Seconds later, pain explodes over the sensitive nerve endings as the second clamp clutches on. 

This time, though, the pleasure from the steady thrusts of his fingers, combined with the press of his lips on your skin as he trails kisses around your soft flesh and up towards the column of your throat, are helping to distract you from the pain that you are starting to embrace it. 

Jimin covers you with his body while you are still processing this. Warm, bare skin and firm muscle are pressed against yours, with his upper chest hovering over the clamps. The small, thin chain connecting the clamps together lay between your breasts. It feels icy cold as the chain digs into your skin under his weight. But his warmth feels so soothing, and you wrap your legs around Jimin’s waist to welcome him in an embrace, desperate to feel him. 

All of him. 

He makes no move, other than the hands that are still working to light up your senses, and waits until your eyes are wide open before he speaks. 

“Still yellow?” 

“Nnhn—” 

Jimin’s chest rumbles with his low chuckle. “Talk to me, angel,” he murmurs, bending down to kiss the tip of your nose, then your chin. “Are you still against the clamp?” 

You try to wiggle beneath him, still feeling his fingers buried between your legs, still moving in circles between your folds, between pressing at your entrance and moving around the clit. The pleasure it brings is the only thing your brain can process for now, while the pain seems suppressed, with a constant feeling of a dull ache throbbing with each pulse of your blood rising under his touch. 

“The pain,” you whisper with a gasp, “It’s grown a bit dull.” 

“Hmmm, does that mean it’s back to green?” 

“Yes. I—” Another gasp slips out of you when his fingers return, sliding back into your pussy. Your upper body arches in response and the shot of pleasure snaps the pain on your breasts back in place, which only makes the throbbing in your core intensify. “Oh, I feel weird.” 

“It’s only natural, and I’m helping to distract you from the pain, which should help get your mind away from the pain. Don’t you think this helps?” he asks as he pushes his fingers deeper inside you. 

“Mmmh—” you moan, unable to form words. “Yes, it does.” You let out a sigh when he presses against the right spots. “It feels good.” 

He makes a soft hum. “I bet it does. But we can’t let you have it all just yet, can we?” Jimin teases you with a small grin, “We haven’t gone through your punishments yet.” 

Hearing this has you widening your eyes. “But I thought—” 

“That the clamps are your punishment?” he asks you with a playful chuckle. “No, angel. This is a part of the play. It’s meant to show you how closely linked together pain and pleasure truly are, and that pain can sometimes show you the immense pleasure that can come with it.” 

Your mouth falls open for a brief moment, surprised, but you can quickly understand what he meant when you can feel it; the throbbing pleasure inside your legs that comes in tune with the pulsing pain. 

“Oh. I see.” 

Jimin’s smile widens. “Shall we continue?” 

Licking your lips, you hold Jimin’s gaze as you nod your head. “Yes, please.” 

“We counted until eleven, was it? What do you say about one spanking of that lovely bottom to each violation you made?” 

Your breath hitches, but a whisper still manages to slip out of your lips. “Yes, Sir.” 

Pulling back a few inches away from you, Jimin frees himself from your legs and pulls his fingers out of your heat. You watch him licking his fingers, humming at your taste, before he begins to run his hands down your body. Avoiding your tense breasts and the clamps attached to the peaks, he trails down your waist with his fingers, then your hips, before pulling back his hand as he continues to gently feel your thighs, still bent and trembling at the knees. 

“This time, I really do think it would be better to bind your legs. Ready?” Jimin asks you as he slowly pushes the back of your thighs, coaxing you to lift your legs further upward. 

You hold back the urge to fight against it, choosing to watch what he is about to do next as he presses your folded legs almost to your chest with one hand and uses the other to reach and lift the tail end of the silk rope binding you to the bed. 

You watch his fingers closely as they work on the rope, and Jimin, realising that you are watching him cautiously, immediately begins to explain, “I’m not going to tie you up too tightly, just getting your pretty legs out of the way.” 

His reassurance helps release all the tension in your body. You try to relax against the pillows, just as much as your bind allows you to, before whispering, “Okay.” 

Jimin presses your thighs down to keep your legs folded. With gentle hands, Jimin works the silk rope around your legs. He starts by winding one end of the rope around your left thigh, going under and around your folded knee until your leg is tethered to your upper body with your feet dangling over you. He continues to do the same to your right leg, the fabric holding it up the same way as the other. 

This should feel awkward, especially when you are made to settle in an odd angle such as this. Yet as you follow his words, making sure to loosen up your muscles instead of straining them and soon find that the bind only makes you feel snug and safe as it settles on your skin. 

And the way Jimin works the rope around your body is mesmerising to watch. A part of you wishes that you could watch everything from a different angle so you could appreciate his work, while another part of you is beginning to feel the daunting realisation of your vulnerability now with both your arms and legs bound. 

With your feet no longer pressing against the mattress, you have lost the leverage you had to retain any semblance of control. Right now, you feel like you are floating, with many different sensations flowing through your body that you can feel everything all at once; the dull ache spreading through your breasts, the constant pulse building from your now exposed center, and the way his light fingers are hitting every nerve ending in your body once he is done, as he runs his hands down your legs, your thighs, your hips, before stopping there. 

“You are a marvellous sight to look at, angel,” Jimin murmurs softly as he gently runs his palms down your thighs. “I wish I could take a picture of you right now so I can keep this moment in my memory forever.” 

Your breath hitches. His praise tastes like honey, while his words are like a spell sending you floating higher in bliss. So high, that you barely notice the move of his fingers as he secures your ankles with the rest of the silk that is wrapped around your upper thighs. Once your legs are perfectly folded above you, spread wide enough for him to slip between them but not enough to make you feel uncomfortable to the point of pain, his work is complete. 

“Perfect,” he says as he sits back, marvelling at his work. Marvelling at you. “Absolutely perfect.” 

His fingers trail down your inner thigh. You are not ticklish by any means, but his light touch keeps sending tremors all through your body that you cannot control. At the same time, the delicious ache in your arms and the helpless feeling of not being able to move seem to give you a new thrill, and you become hyperaware of the way his fingers dance on your skin, how his palms are grazing gently down the curves of your hips. 

You pull at the silk that binds your hands as he traces his palms down your bottom cheeks, now lifted slightly from the bed with the way your body is folded. He rubs his palms gently on your skin for a moment, then he looks up, finding your eyes. Holding his gaze on yours, he makes it so you cannot look away by giving you a sweet smile, keeping your attention locked on him as he pulls one hand back and lands it back on your skin with a hard slap.

A gasp is drawn out of you when you feel the sting. Tears fill your eyes, yet left with no chance to spill when Jimin immediately rubs his palm against the tender skin, soothing the pain away. “Make sure to keep count, angel. How many was that?” 

“Hmmm,” your voice fades to a moan as the dull ache once again lights up the pulsing desire between your legs, “O-one, Sir.” 

“And how many are we supposed to have?” 

With a low groan, you answer faintly, “Eleven, Sir.” 

“Good girl,” he says, as he continues rubbing his palm on your skin, taking the pain away. “Now keep counting. Make sure I can hear your voice so I won’t make a mistake and give you more than what I’m supposed to.” 

Fear grips your chest at the thought of Jimin adding more spanking as punishment, to add more pain, so you quickly nod your head, just in time for his hand to land on the other cheek for another hard slap. “Oh, God—” you gasp, before mustering some will to call out, “T-two.” 

Again, Jimin rubs his palm on the stinging pain, soothing it until it becomes dull. Then, while you are getting distracted by his touch, his other hand returns, slapping the underside of your thigh. “Three—” you call out with a gasp, which quickly turns to a small moan when he rubs the pain away. 

“You’re doing good, angel,” he whispers, and you can almost hear the smile in his voice when your body trembles at how close to your center his fingers are each time he rubs across your skin. 

Another slap lands on the other thigh, right at the skin where your plump bottom meets your thigh. Your hips twitch at the sting, and you are too powerless to stop it. Neither are you capable of stopping the heat oozing from your pussy as the pain from his punishment throbs, sending a rapid pulse right to your core. 

“Four,” you cry out, almost breathlessly, before you sigh at the soothing touch that follows next. 

He repeats the pattern for the next couple of blows, switching from one side to the other, hitting the tender skin of your bottom, before he then moves to the apex of your thighs, always closing in towards your pulsing pussy. And never once do you fail to count his strikes. 

“Five…six…seven…” 

The sounds of his palm slapping on your skin bounce against the walls, always followed by the sounds of cries, gasps, and moans when his next touches soothe the burning pain on your skin into dull aches. 

“Eight…Nine…” 

At this point, your voice has become so hoarse, both from crying and gasping so much, that the sound of your counts keeps fading into whispers. You can barely feel the pain from his strikes, when something else has risen stronger in its place. Jimin lays another strike. The sound rings in your head, but instead of crying in pain, you simply let out a strangled moan. 

“Ten,” you count with a sigh, amazed at how the throbbing on your punished skin seems to melt together with the dull ache on your breasts. 

Jimin smiles, yet says nothing. Not even to warn you before a hard slap lands at your center, right at your slick folds. Your body twitches with the sharp pain, yet pleasure begins scorching through your body soon after. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure goes straight into the deepest part of your pussy that you nearly climax right there and then.

Jimin slips a finger inside you, soothing the shock from his touch with gentle strokes. In and out he moves his finger, and you buck in his grip to feel more. To gain more. Only to have his voice snapping you back from the blissful fog. 

“How many was that, angel?” 

“Eleven,” you find yourself crying, although your voice suspiciously sounds like a mewl. “That’s eleven, Sir.” 

You let out another, louder moan as Jimin sips his finger out of you and slides his hands underneath your body, cupping your bare and tender bottom and holding you firmly over the mattress. “Open your eyes for me. Let me look at you,” Jimin says, making you realise too late that you have your eyes closed. 

There is a smile on his face when you slowly open your eyes. His own eyes light up with pride. 

“You took your punishment like a good girl,” he gently says. His praise makes you feel warm inside, your heart swelling with pure joy which you cannot possibly explain. Your body is humming with need, intensified by the gentle touch he gives on your tender skin. “I surmise you deserve a reward for doing such a good job, don’t you think?” 

“Mmmm, yes. Yes, Sir. Please,” you whine and beg while your body rocks into his palms, wishing that you could go further, closer to his hot body, to be able to feel his desire pressing on your body. 

The need to feel him draws a soft mewl from your lips when you feel Jimin leaning over you, his body positioned between your spread thighs, your bound legs becoming the only things left keeping him from completely covering your body with his. 

“I want to see you come. To feel you when you succumb to pleasure,” he murmurs, his voice sounding close, and you can feel his warm breath against your lips when he speaks, “How should I do it, I wonder?” 

Your eyes flicker to his lips just as he does the same to yours. Licking your lips, you hold back your breath. Realising that Jimin is close enough to kiss, you anticipate him claiming your lips the same way he has been claiming your body. You take a sharp inhale of breath when he leans closer, so close you can almost feel his lips touching yours. 

And then you feel it, his lips brushing against yours. A gentle, barely-there graze. You pull at your restraint to arch upward, meeting him for that kiss. Only for him to suddenly stop.

Coming still, Jimin jerks his head back and shakes it, as if he hadn’t been conscious in his leaning into kissing your lips, and the brief touch of your lips on his immediately snaps him out of it. But he doesn’t pull his hand away from the soft, tender skin of your hips. His fingers glide upward, slowly, until you feel them gliding over your slit. 

A soft moan slips from your lips, your eyes staying on his lips, still longing to taste him even when he is giving you pleasure with his hand to keep your mind off of it. 

“Eyes on me, angel,” he commands and you obey without thinking, still lost under his spell to do everything that he desires. 

He holds your gaze as he screws one finger into you. It immediately draws a whimper from your lips. Not out of pain, but out of sheer need. 

You writhe against the bind holding your wrists together, resisting the urge to grind down and take his finger deeper. Biting your tongue, you focus on the delightful way he is filling you, touching you, teasing you by pushing you close to the edge yet slowing down before you can get there. 

Jimin leans his head down until you are connected temple to temple and whispers softly, “Are you okay, angel? You’ve been rather quiet.” 

Something about him checking on you brings up the flutterings in your belly that have nothing to do with the raw desire you are feeling from his touch. 

Everything about him seems to be in contrast with one another. His voice that doesn’t always reflect in his touches, when one becomes gentle while he is firm with the other. Also with his caring way in making sure that you are completely in this moment while he makes you burn from the inside out. And the effect is immediate, as you feel that heat rippling deeply inside you, pushing forward to have it released. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, and he presses his thumb roughly on your clit, once again stealing your words. 

Jimin tilts his head and laughs softly. “Yeah—what?” 

Swallowing hard, you struggle to find your voice. “Yes, I’m okay,” you answer with a soft whimper, “Sir.” 

A smile grows on his face. “That’s good to hear.” He shifts and wedges a second finger inside you. 

He begins moving them in and out, curling them like scissors, gliding back and forth between your pulsing walls. You buck your hips, nearly rising from the bed as you rock together with his thrusts. 

“Oh, God,” you moan softly as the pleasure rocks violently through your body. “Please, I need to come!” 

“Not yet, angel,” he nearly barks his command with how firm his tone of voice sounds to you. 

The chain between your breasts is lifted, and he pulls at it just enough to give pressure against your sensitive nipples. Whatever force connected the ache on your nipples to the heat in your pussy shatters you from the inside out. You feel like you are hanging by a thread, your blood flowing hot through every part of your body, pushing against the clamps, the bind, and the muscles contracting in your pussy. 

“Come now, angel,” Jimin commands firmly. With one more tug on the chain, he pulls until the clamps detach themselves from your hard nipples, and that’s when you come apart. 

Jimin’s name comes out of your lips in your cry of pleasure. Your body strains against the silk that holds you securely as you come in a blinding climax. 

For that moment, you are lost. You are no longer in the room with various instruments meant to fulfil anyone’s darkest fantasies. You are no longer bound to the bed, to yourself, and instead floating in a dark space that makes you think you are suspended way above the bed, your silk bonds connected not to the bars on the bed’s headrest, but to the ceiling. 

It takes a few moments before your mind begins to clear, and you find yourself plunging back down to the room before you get to feel everything again; the bind wrapped all over your body, the bed, and Jimin’s warmth. 

But you are still high in bliss, still drowned in the waves of your pleasure that you aren’t conscious enough of the movement happening nearby. Needing to pull you back to the present, Jimin rubs your arms, then brushes his lips gently on the tip of your nose, your chin, and then your face, while crooning, “______, come back to me.” 

His voice fades in and out, drowned by the sound of your pulsing blood. But his touch draws you out of your fog until you slowly open your eyes. “Are you with me, angel?” 

It takes a moment for him to succeed in bringing you back completely, with his kisses pulling you back to him while making you wish even harder that he would kiss your lips before he continues.

“Y-yes, I’m here,” you whisper, still breathless. Your chest is tight with how rapidly your heart is beating in your chest. “What”—a gasp slips out of you—”God, what was that?” 

“That was what we call being in a headspace. It’s common to happen once a sub surrenders completely and allows the pleasure to take over.” 

Blinking your eyes rapidly, you recall reading such a thing during your research. You never knew that it would be possible for you to feel anything like it. But now that you’ve experienced something so intense, you cannot imagine ever thinking that anything else would ever be enough. 

Jimin positions himself between your spread legs, his hips resting against your center and his lips hovering on top of yours, once again promising you the kiss that never comes. 

“You responded so well to the clamps, beautiful. So well,” he murmurs against your lips, almost trembling with excitement. “There is so much I want to show and introduce you to, but so little time.” He continues to murmur as he moves to kiss the tears that you don’t realise falling down your cheeks. “Do you want more?” 

Your breath gets caught in your throat when you feel his desire poking against your folds, letting you know that he has yet to gain his fill. “Y-yes. But I don’t think I can.” 

“Will you let me try?” Jimin carefully asks you as he caresses your shoulders, his fingers finding the strands of your hair that have grown messy and tangled. 

Drained, yet still feeling the desire to feel him inside you, you give him a vague sound of agreement as you nod. With his fingers, Jimin tugs at the silk binding your legs, releasing them so he can lower them back to the bed. He spreads your knees, his gentle palms pressing on your inner thighs to keep you spread open for him. Still riding the high of your orgasm, your body jerks as he slips a finger inside of you. 

A soft mewl escapes you as you feel the spasms inside your pussy once again, pushing around his digit this time as he slides in deeper. You almost cry yellow, but then he leans down, and finally, begins pressing his lips on yours to wipe away any apprehension you feel about going forward. 

His lips are gentle, and his kiss melts you from the inside and out, drowning the sounds you are making as the kiss draws a different kind of sensation out of your body. With one hand moving in and out of your hot walls, and the other holding you firmly at your hip, you feel like you are going to explode for another reason but the intense pleasure he has promised to give. 

“More,” you breathe against his lips when he releases you from the kiss, his fingers leaving your heat to let you feel your hot walls clenching into nothing. “I need you. Please.” 

“I’m here,” he simply whispers. And then his mouth is on yours once again, with his hand tangled in your hair. His body moulds into you as he covers you with his warmth, his hard cock pressing in the notch between your legs. 

“Is this what you want?” The head of his cock prods your entrance and you let out a mewl, unable to hold back any sound as the need to have him inside you becomes so intense.

“Yes, Sir,” you gasp when he rocks his hips and applies a little more pressure.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He pushes some strands of stray hair away from your eyes, then gazes down with an intensity in his eyes which heats you up from within.

Your mouth falls open as he gently eases his way inside, parting you with his thickness. “Yes,” you manage to answer breathlessly. 

“Good. Now take a deep breath, and remember not to cum until I tell you to,” he murmurs, taking your hips with both hands and tipping you upwards to the right angle. Perfect enough to take him without straining you from your restraint too much. 

Then, with nothing more but the sound of his soft moan, Jimin drives in deep. So deep that you can barely catch your breath as he fills you. As he moves, he starts kissing you again, his tongue fucking your mouth with the same rhythm as his thick cock.

With a gasp, you welcome the pleasure that comes, while almost wishing that you have some free rein to move on your own instead of being under his control. 

Because you cannot get enough. 

You nip his lips, kissing back with all you’ve got, even to the knowledge that he is for sure going to punish you later for trying to top his dominance. But you need this like you need air to breathe. Like you need water to drink. So you drink him as a whole by kissing him back just as roughly. Passionately. Until a sound comes from his throat and his hips buck forward to push roughly into you. 

Your eyes roll back with every thrust. You are half gone with delirium. Almost to a point where you can barely remember your name. 

Jimin’s lids droop as he owns his pleasure, embracing it while giving it to you. His fingers tighten to a bruising strength around your hips as he goes faster, pumping harder, rocking every inch of your being while shaking the whole bed with the pace of his fucking. 

He pulls you up until your body is half lifted from the bed, and keeps thrusting into you, holding your hips and sinking so deep you start feeling him everywhere.  

He sweeps you against him as he claims your mouth with a kiss so fierce it intensifies the heat in your body, nearly sending you over the edge before you are allowed to. 

But it really shouldn’t be hard for Jimin to send you to another climax in the first place. Your body has grown overly sensitive that each thrust he gives you keeps sending you straight towards the edge. 

So you do your best to hold on. To follow his command. To hold back before he gives you permission to release it. Until it finally comes. 

But it never comes. 

Instead, he holds back, coming to a pause as he pulls your body to his chest. You can feel that he has yet to find release even while he keeps giving you pleasure, and from the tremble you feel coming out of his chest, you know that he needs it. But instead of chasing it, he pulls out of you and flips you over. Making you face the headboard as he pulls your hips back and enters you from behind. 

In this position, he drives even deeper. His hips snap and thrust, throwing you forward with his force. The bind around your hands is now twisted and tightens fiercely around your wrists. You use it to pull yourself and brace your arms forward, holding onto the headrest to keep from flying into the wall. His hold on your waist might be strong, but the force of his thrusts against your body while you are bound and helpless makes you feel like you are flying. 

As if your body is defying gravity. 

“Jimin—” His name slips from your lips with a gasp. The words you wish to say to him hang at the tip of your tongue, yet your mind is too muddled to figure out what you want to say to him. Because it feels too much; the pleasure, the intense way he is claiming your body. But at the same time, you wish to beg him to let you find your release. To have more.

“More…” You start begging him, “Harder.” 

Jimin grips one side of your hips and grabs a fistful of your hair as he slams into you. The moan that comes out of your mouth is sharp and sudden, drawn by the feeling of him filling you with his hard length. 

You feel him leaning down against your back, his lips brushing at your ear with rushed breaths coming out of him. The hand that settles on your hip moves lower, finding your center before the tips of his fingers find your swollen clit. The touch is brief, yet it sends sparks of lightning under your eyelids when the pleasure peaks. 

“Is this what you need, angel?” Jimin asks you between his thrusts without missing his steady rhythm. 

“Yes,” you cry out, “Yes, Sir!” 

Seeing—and feeling— the way your body welcomes him, Jimin repeats the action and presses against your clit, rubbing it in circles. You shudder as he fills you, as his thrusts continue relentlessly, and the satisfaction he brings sends your body almost to its limit. He gives four quick pumps, then another hard, deep one, pushing at the right spots, and you feel the telltale of your orgasm teasing at the seam.

Jimin releases your hair and palms your hips to drill deeper, his hips keep smacking against your bottom as he pumps in and out. 

You hang your head and let out a whimper. The need to savour this raw pleasure has grown so strong, but your body has gone through multiple climaxes that you are not sure if you can last much longer. 

The pleasure grows intense, making you dizzy with lust, with raw desire. It comes with a shudder that Jimin relishes as he reaches down, pressing his thumb at your rear opening until you feel him slipping in. A sharp cry slips out of your throat, to the point that you are nearly choking when each firm thrust he gives keeps pushing the air out of your chest. 

“Not yet,” he warns with a growl when he feels the spasm of your climax building up. 

“Please. Oh God, please, Jimin,” you find yourself begging, though your mind is muddled with the need for release that you are not even completely aware of the words that keep shamelessly spilling out of your lips with your desperate plea. “Please, more. Harder. Please, Sir. Oh, God—I need to come.” 

Jimin’s thrusts grow more erratic, yet he is still going hard. “Not yet, angel,” he says with a strained voice, almost as if he is speaking with his jaw clenched tight. 

He slams into you, hard, nearly pushing you forward. You are not sure if you can keep your arms up for much longer. The numbness keeps growing as your body continues getting ravished. He seems to notice you losing balance, because he pulls his hand away from your rear and smoothly wraps one strong arm around your waist to help hold you up instead of falling face-first into the pillows. This brings him closer to you, his bare chest pressing to your back, and the thrusts feel deeper even without as much force. 

It feels so good, it makes you even more delirious. You feel as if you are soaring, as the rightness of being taken completely by him brings you to a new level of pleasure. You have already found how easy it is to be vulnerable with him, to let down your barriers and let him lead, so you can easily give your pleasure to him. 

A curse slips out of his lips as his grip on you tightens further. His breath becomes heavier, you can hear and feel it with each in and out. You can feel his thighs shaking against yours, showing you that you are not the only one hanging on the edge of release. 

He lets out a deep groan and thrusts deeply, moving in and out, in and up, almost lifting you from the bed, your knees rising with the force of his lovemaking. He pulls you up and back against his chest as he straightens back up and taps your clit with his fingers in rapid succession. 

And this almost does you in. With a gasp, you cry out to him, “N-no, I can’t—I can’t hold on.” 

To your relief, Jimin whispers to your ear, “Ready to come, angel?” 

He moves his hand up from your waist to cup your breast. His fingers find your nipple and pinch, bringing back the pain which the clamps had ignited on your skin, while he presses hard against your clit to set you off. 

You arch at the mix of pain and pleasure. Thrusting your breasts onto his hand, a hoarse cry escapes your lips. “J-jimin,” you call his name with a gasp. 

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Take it, angel. Take it all.” 

He groans as he bites out his command, “Let yourself go, angel. Let me feel you come around my cock.” 

With his words, you let go. 

You let out another cry as your inner muscles begin spasming intensely with the wave of your orgasm. You nearly flip backwards, your head hitting his shoulder as your body convulses in your climax. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, squeezing and pulsing around his thick length. 

“That’s it, angel,” Jimin murmurs in your ear. “Your pussy feels so good around me.” 

He nuzzles your neck, pressing kisses there. Beyond the blissful fog, and the stars filling your eyelids, you can still feel him; rocking gently from behind you, prolonging the waves of pleasure rushing through your body while he waits for you to ride out your high. 

His cock is still rock hard inside you, rubbing your insides in a delicate manner which feels intoxicating, thrilling, and overwhelming at the same time. 

“How are you, angel? Still with me?” he whispers to you while you are still riding your high, still rocking your hips against his, savouring the delectable hum of your orgasm with him buried inside you. He keeps giving you slow, languid thrusts while he waits for your response. 

“Hmmm—yes…” 

Jimin lets out a chuckle as he leans down, taking your ear between his teeth for a light bite. “You don’t think we’re done yet, do you?” 

Your hips jerk when he pushes deeper into your tight walls, his hard cock pressing into your heat. “But it’s too much,” you gasp, your body growing rigid with how sensitive you have become. 

“Just one more, angel. Give me one more,” Jimin murmurs against your skin as he begins rocking his hips again, stirring back the pleasure that has yet to come down completely, dulling the ache and the soreness when your body easily complies, quickly adjusting to this new high. “You can do it. I know you can.” 

It feels delicious. Delectable. Too much and not enough at once. You are flying so flipping high, drunk in pleasure, drunk on him, on every drop of need and desire that he has somehow woken in your body and soul. 

“Fuck, yes. Arch that back for me, angel.” He drags a palm down your spine and lays a light slap on the side of your bottom cheek. 

And you arch for him, doing it just as he asks of you. 

His breath grows heavy. His movements start getting jerky, and a bit too rough. Not for your pussy, as the pulse of desire only seems to be getting stronger, but for your back and shoulders, your body getting drained and used up from all the strenuous movements. 

Before you can say anything about it, Jimin shifts, leaning forward and laying his torso over your back. He reaches forward, bracing one hand on the bars right next to where your hand is keeping a tight grip to hold on. His other hand moves back to your breast, pinching your nipple, rolling it between his fingers and tugging just like he did with the other. 

Moans after moans keep slipping out of you. He sees this as a sign that you are high in pleasure instead of pain, so he strokes his hand down the plane of your stomach and finds your clit again. 

A shudder rocks through your body, and he bites your ear right before that shudder turns into something more. “Not until I tell you, angel.” 

With a gasp, everything stops. You fall quiet and listen. You have learned to wait, to follow his pace as he comes almost to a complete pause to let the spasms of your climax fade. 

“Do you understand? You don’t come until I say you do.” 

His voice in your ear seems deeper, and it flips some kind of switch in you. Your pussy contracts, but not enough to push you over to the edge. Your toes are curling beneath you, feeling the anticipation strengthening the pleasure that keeps building, and building. 

Jimin pulls you back and suddenly flips you over. You are now facing him, with your back down on the bed, yet your hips are lifted until they are resting over his thighs as he enters you again. 

“I want to look at your face when you come for one last time,” he says, as he curls his hands around the tops of your thighs, wrapping them around to grip your ass and pulling you back and forth over his cock. 

You find yourself back in a state of delirium, feeling ecstatic with the way he is handling you with his skilled hands. You know better than to fight it, realising that this is what you need. So you simply submit to the sensations building inside you, letting go of any inhibitions left in you so you can take everything that Jimin is giving you. 

“That’s it. Look at me, baby. Just like that.”

You are feeling euphoric with intense pleasure, but it doesn’t stop you from basking in the heat of his gaze. He moves his fingers around your clit in circles, then switches, as he slides his hand under your ass and parts your cheeks. When you feel him tapping your pucker rim with a finger, you are completely lost. 

“Now, angel. Come for me.” 

The guttural tone of his voice sounds just as urgent as the desire peaking through your body. For the last time, you shatter completely, your hips snapping up and down as the release uncoils faster than a whip snapping in the wind. 

The wave of your orgasm hits you intensely, stronger and bigger than the last. You let out a scream, the sound coming louder as he squeezes your nipples, hard, bringing back the same pain that he caused you with the clamps, only with his hands, all while he keeps pushing and rubbing his cock hard inside you. 

While you shatter in pieces in your release, Jimin puts you back together when you feel him pulsing inside you. With a strangled gasp and a rough groan, Jimin succumbs to his release. You feel his warmth filling you up, some drops of his cum escaping with each slow thrust he is giving you before he finally comes to a complete halt. 

“Marvellous,” Jimin murmurs, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he tries to catch his breath. “You are marvellous, angel. Way better than I could ever imagine.” 

Then his lips find yours again, taking you in a deep, lingering kiss. It makes you forget for a moment where you are, and that you are still bound to the bed—to him—when the heat in your body sizzles to warm. Right at that moment, as your tongue dances against his, you finally understand the reason why Jimin had tried his best to avoid kissing your lips at the beginning of your playtime.

The kiss feels sensual, too intimate, that you melt into him for a reason which has nothing to do with the intense play he had just introduced you to. 

It feels too intimate for a kiss to be shared in a place like this. 

And yet you do nothing to stop it. Instead, you let him pull you tighter into his chest as he kisses you deeper, until the bind, the club, and everything else around you cease to matter. 

You feel drowsy, tired and spent, yet filled with content, that you can feel yourself slowly falling asleep. 

It doesn’t help that Jimin’s soothing touch keeps making your body feel more lax, that you wish for nothing more than to lie back down on the bed. Sweats and other essences left behind on those fancy silk sheets from your playtime be damn. 

But you also have no wish to pull away from his warmth that feels so comforting, enveloping you in a way that makes you want to curl up and doze off until you are ready to step away from this invisible bubble of yours. 

Right now, you just want to savour this moment. Because this…

This is why you keep coming back, searching for such pleasure by opening yourself up to your darkest desire. 

It’s the calm that comes after the heated moment that you just shared with a partner who desired the same thing you did by coming to this place. A place where your reality no longer matters. The contentment and peacefulness that come over you once the heat slowly subsides. 

This is when your mind clears. When your mind can rationalise everything that has been going on in your life without your anxiety blinding you. When you can stop feeling as if you have no control over your life. 

Submitting control to someone else’s hands is never meant to make you feel powerless. It’s always meant to be the opposite, as even in complete submission, when you are met with the right Dom as your partner, you are the one to hold the control. And there is nothing more fulfilling than finding pleasure at the end as your reward. To feel even more powerful when you can finally take back your control when your playtime is over. 

That was the very reason why you requested to have this kind of treatment for this session. What started as a deep curiosity about the dynamic has grown into a desire which you secretly harboured to experience. And after weeks of having your life spiralling out of control, you saw this moment as a chance to test the theories you’ve learned about submitting to pleasure. 

You never expected to find yourself reaching something as divine as being in a headspace, where everything felt so serene that you simply forgot everything. And you certainly didn’t expect to also experience something like this; the gentle, caring touch that comes afterward as Jimin eases you back into reality. 

To be taken care of and spoiled and praised after you allow yourself to be taken over by lust. 

Taking a deep breath, the soft floral scent of freesia mixed with a sweet, fruity fragrance fills your chest. It makes you smile as you breathe it in. 

When you first entered the room, the air was thick with rich, aromatic trails of burning incense. The typical scents that have always been spread within the exclusive rooms in the club to set the perfect ambience for the guests as they enjoy their night in this place. This room, specifically, was filled with earthy sandalwood, mingling with the sweet floral touch of jasmine and fresh lemongrass. 

Merely moments ago, those delicate scents were replaced by the heady scents of sex and sweat, which had grown so thick after your intense playtime with Jimin. The scents that are still present in your skin, albeit faintly, under the scent of body wash clinging to your skin after the warm bath that Jimin had given you once he was done with you. 

As you lean into Jimin’s chest and the comforting touch of his fingers, you can still feel everything; the warm water from the bath which soothed your sore muscles; the calming scent of the soap which Jimin lathered on your body; and the gentle way Jimin took care of you through it all. 

Just like how he gave you light massages to ease the numbing ache on your arms and wrists after releasing you from the ropes, he is still rubbing your skin, easing the soreness left behind from the bondage. 

“I think,” you hum softly the moment you feel his lips pressing on your wrist, “If you keep rubbing and kissing my skin like this, I might just fall asleep right here.” 

This causes Jimin to laugh. His voice is velvety and soft that it feels like a warm blanket that makes you want to sink further into his embrace. 

As you move in his lap, the front of your robe falls just enough to expose parts of your breasts once again, and you make no move to fix it. It doesn’t do much to steal away the warmth you feel in your body. Not when his hands are doing just enough to make up for it. 

Jimin’s gaze follows the fallen fabric, and a distaste look appears through his eyes. Not at the sight of skin, but at the way the robe seems to be blocking his view. Even if he was the one who had dressed you in the robe once he was done cleaning you up in the bath. 

Clinging to his robe that is now secured in place, you look up to tease him, “Are you thinking about stripping me down again, Sir?” 

With a light chuckle, Jimin shakes his head. “I wish I could, angel. But you’ve given me more than enough already. I’m not sure you’ll be able to give more.” 

His lips are soft as they move slowly against yours, coaxing your lips open and delving inside to taste you for one last time. His hands grip your hips and wind their way up to your waist, doing it slowly, as if you are just as delicate as the silky robe now covering your skin. 

“Everything okay, angel?” Jimin’s voice is soft, just enough to push through the newly blissful fog rising in your head. The rumbling in his chest nearly sounds like a purr, and you find yourself wanting so badly to lean deeper into it. 

“Yes,” you answer with a content sigh. “Everything’s just marvellous.” 

Jimin lets out a soft hum as he kisses the top of your head. “I couldn’t agree more.” He leans back and tilts your chin up until you are looking up at him. “This was much better than I ever could imagine. Thank you for giving me this opportunity,” he says while looking deep into your eyes, and you can almost swear you feel the insides of your chest turning into jelly. 

“I should be the one to thank you.” 

The smile on his face softens. “It’s quite unfortunate, but I suppose this marks the end of our playtime.” 

“Bummer,” you tease him with a playful pout, though your comment doesn’t have a bite or bitterness to it, even if you do feel the disappointment of knowing that your time is up. 

Kissing your pouting lips, Jimin takes your hand and helps you rise to your feet. He waits until you are no longer swaying before he lets you go, but not before guiding you towards your door. 

“Do you need my help?” he offers one last time right as you reach out to press the button to open the door. Still feeling reluctant to do so, you hold back as much as you can, for as long as you are allowed to, just to stay like this with him for a bit longer. 

Looking at his face again, knowing well enough that the next time you meet him, there will be a mask shielding his beautiful face from view, you commit every detail of him in your memory.

“No, I think I’ll manage,” you answer him once you feel like you have enough control to tame the buzzing in your body.  

Jimin looks at you with the same gaze he had during playtime, before he nods, and that look fades. When he opens his eyes again, he straightens himself up the way he always does when he is acting as the host for the club, already shedding his master’s role to put on his original role as your host, even without his suit on.  

“The car for your ride home will be waiting for you downstairs once you are ready to leave,” he gently says, though with the familiar tone that he uses when he is setting up your arrangement with the club. It stings a little to hear it, yet it also helps you to slowly prepare yourself to return to the real world. 

“Until we see again,” Jimin adds, and you immediately stop him before he can turn away.  

“This special offer—” you hesitantly ask, “Is it a one-time thing?” 

Jimin doesn’t answer you right away. But there is a glint in his eyes which seems to speak a thousand words before he speaks. It is the same look that he gave you when he made the offer to be your master. “Whenever you are ready to set up your next appointment, let your host know that you are requesting for your preceding master.” 

A flutter of a smile grows on your face. “I’ll make sure to remember.” 

He watches you press the button at your door to open it, yet you remain in your position to watch him go as Jimin turns away to the other side of the room. Without taking another glance over his shoulder, Jimin presses the button to open the door to his side of the wall and steps out of the bedroom. 

And then he is gone. 

— Jimin— 

“I heard that you recently made use of the Bondage Room again. Is that true?” 

The day is still quite early for Club La Rouge to be filled with its regular patrons. But the VIP lounge already has some guests unwinding to end the day. Some with drinks in their hands, some enjoying imported cigars while sharing light conversations with their peers and sponsors, while others are simply here to fill their time of leisure before diving into the club’s evening bustle. 

Sitting in front of Jimin is not just a regular VIP guest of the club. 

Kim Seokjin is one of the owners of Club La Rouge and the head representative who deals with the club’s activities and patrons directly. He is also Jimin’s employer. The same person who first brought Jimin to be a part of the club years ago. 

Jimin had already expected that at least one of the owners would catch wind about him entering the special Play Room not as a host, but as a willing participant. He should have expected that person to be Seokjin, who is always so strict in keeping up with all the happenings in the club, whether it is something that involves the club members, his co-owners, or his favoured staff. 

“Yes, I have,” Jimin admits as he sits back on his loveseat, meeting Seokjin’s eyes. “I’m surprised it took you this long to bring this up. It’s been a few weeks since it happened, after all.” 

Seokjin gives him a smile in return. “You and I both have been quite busy with the new development for the club, so I haven’t thought about bringing it up,” he admits after placing his cup of tea down on the table between them. “How did it feel to be back into it again? I know that you haven’t been active in the BDSM club scenes for a while. I haven’t heard of you coming to other clubs to find a sub or spend any night with the club’s escort for a play for weeks.” 

Jimin can’t resist the laughter coming out of him. It’s typical for Seokjin to be so blunt in bringing up his past endeavours in the middle of a conversation. He isn’t wrong, after all. 

For a long time, Jimin has always been familiar with the BDSM scene, even long before he became involved with Club La Rouge. He had spent many nights frequenting the BDSM club scenes in the city to look for the perfect sub to play with, yet never once could he find the desirable release that he was searching for. 

When he first met the owners of Club La Rouge years ago, he knew that he had finally found the perfect place for him to satiate his desire. 

Just like what he shared with you that night, Jimin was first brought in to test out the new sex rooms before they were publicly launched for the club’s members. Specifically the Bondage Room and the smaller Play Rooms that were built to complement it. He even helped with the design, the main concept, and provided lists of instruments and items that the club needed to create the perfect space for its patrons to live out their fantasies to the fullest. 

All thanks to his past experience and knowledge of the sex scenes that most of the owners were still considered novices at the time. 

He remained in the club after the initial development as a full host in exchange for good pay each month and free access to any of the club’s benefits—as long as he followed the club’s main rules as many others were required to. The arrangement had worked perfectly for Jimin. For a time, he felt that his involvement with the club was enough to satiate his needs that he would only visit the other BDSM clubs whenever he needed a change of settings. 

It all changed the night he took the role of your master, when he finally got a taste of you and your complete submission. 

“I’d have to say that it was quite—” Jimin mulls over for a moment to find the right word, “Liberating.” 

Seokjin’s lips rise to a grin. “Quite the choice of word,” he says, “I suppose she was worth changing your own rules and boundaries, then?” 

Jimin resists a groan. Despite all the restricting rules that the club has set for its staff, it was his own boundaries that prevented him from even considering involving himself with a club member. Specifically, a member that he is fully responsible for. 

He did change a lot of things that night. Crossed many boundaries. Risk his own connection with the club. 

All for you.

Was it truly worth it? He wonders with a side grin on his face. Yes, absolutely. Even with the consequences that followed. 

Days have continued to pass by since then, and have quickly turned into weeks. Yet the night Jimin spent with you in the Play Room remains in his memory so vividly that he can almost relive it each time he closes his eyes. 

He can still feel the touch of your skin at the tips of his fingers, and breathe your delicate scent through the heady scents of the club’s signature fragrance that he has gotten accustomed to after working in this place for so long. Oftentimes, all he simply needs to do is reminisce a small part of that night, and he would be able to hear the sounds of your voice that came out of your lips when he pleasured you. 

It has messed with his mind so badly that he hasn’t been able to return to the club scenes nor has he been able to enjoy them as much as he used to when he eventually did try to venture into other clubs and find a new sub.  

At the same time, it has left him waiting. Anticipating. For him to feel a deep craving of raw and unbidden pleasure that only you could fulfil. It has been a while since he last felt this way. 

“For now, it’s worth more than anything,” Jimin admits, surprising himself to feel this way. It must be quite surprising for Seokjin as well, as the man immediately laughs. 

“I wonder if she thinks the same. Do you think she’ll come back to request another chance?” 

Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to scold me? Put me on a timeout for fraternising with an exclusive member?” 

Seokjin lets out a scoff. “As one of the earliest hosts who helped run the club from the ground up, you have privileges that no other hosts have. I’m only surprised it took you this long to find someone you’d risk everything to,” Seokjin says with a teasing grin. “So? Is this going to be just a one-time thing, or has she decided to try a new master now that you’ve crossed one of her checklists?”

“Well,” Jimin clenches his jaw at the thought of you giving control to a different master, until he recalls your last words before he left the room that night. 

“This special offer. Is it a one-time thing?”

Jimin eases back in his seat, no longer feeling tense, knowing that you had at least harboured a desire to repeat that night should the chance be given to you. Even if it’s nothing more but a small wish. “She hasn’t revoked her membership since that night, so I think we can expect her to return.” 

He can only hope that you haven’t decided to change to a new host for your next session, so he can be prepared for whatever kind of arrangement you will be making when you return. 

Weeks have passed since that night and you have yet to make any arrangements with the club for a new session. It shouldn’t be a surprise, since it was one of your patterns to wait a few weeks between booking a session with the club before Jimin gifted you the new privilege that you now have. 

But it doesn’t stop him from expecting news from you each time he sits down at his office to arrange different sessions for other club members that he is hosting. He tries not to think too much about it when he returns to his office this evening to open up the club’s schedule.

This week has been slow for the club, presumably due to the fact that most of the VIP members in his quota had recently joined the latest club event that was held at the end of the year. Jimin is in the middle of updating the members list to prepare for the start of the new year when a notification arrives on his system. He doesn’t think much of it when he opens his tablet to check the incoming email, until he sees the content and hope blooms for him. 

As if fate is on his side tonight, your name appears on his screen. 

He quickly skims through your email, reading through the reservation that you had just sent in for your future session which is set for the weekend. His smile grows wider as he reads the detailed specifications that you have added in your email, until he reaches the end, nearly leaping out of his seat to shout and celebrate when your message says,

“Request inquiries for one private session.  Choice of accommodation: The Play Room. Special theme request: Complete Submission.  Specifications: Bondage. Role play. Blindfold. Open for pain and punishments. Choice of partner: Request for the Preceding Master.” 

— ©yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. translations are not allowed.

[vixonspixels]

Repairman Override Mini Collection

This lil collection contains overrides for both female and male frames of the repairman outfit so no more nasty looking repairman will be spawning in your game now!

Also comes with a lil recolour of the wrench and screwdriver. One swatch only in black

Available for free over on my patreon page here

[fir-fireweed]

Viatica is now complete! 🥳😱

A new interactive fiction available free to read on itch.io and written in Twine Chapbook.

Story Link | ROs | Ko-Fi

Set in a dystopian, post-apocalyptic future, with a focus on personal growth, as well as platonic, familial, and romantic bonds.

Your world is a desert, both figuratively and literally. Speech is prohibited, books are outlawed, and any meaningful human interaction is nonexistent. Humans are reduced to the job they do for The City. There are no names; instead, everyone is identified by a number.

You are H-313, a healer.

Create and customize your character: male, female, or non-binary; gay, straight, or bisexual. Become an individual in a world of drones. Learn to speak, express your emotions, define your personality. Dream big, resist tyranny, inspire the masses, and forge a new world. Or not. This is your journey, after all.

There are no point-based choices or outcomes. No choice is wrong—it simply changes the type of person you grow to become.

Content Warning: This story is intended for mature audiences. Possibly triggering topics present in the story include blood, violence, death, suicide, rape (mentioned), child abuse, mature language, and sexual content (optional).

Art by the extremely talented Isabela Zaneti

[soiconic]

ICONIC - HAT CONTROL 2.0 (SLIDER) FOR THE SIMS 4

I finally updated my head accessories slider to version 2.0! It now works for both male and female adult Sims.

Make sure to read the full documentation on my Blogger to understand how it works and how to make custom content compatible. I also made a video—check it out here!

For the slider to function, you need to use my new mod called Rig Override 1.0. Don’t forget to download it and place it in your Mods folder. If you're a creator, make sure to also add it to your Sims 4 Studio Mods folder.

I created a beanie for you to test it out—I hope you like it!

Right now, the slider is available for early access on my Patreon and will be released to the public soon. Thank you! → DOWNLOAD (Public: April 4, 2025)

Become a supporter of my Patreon and get access to early content.

[hoodoowoman]

4t3 Boots (PU, CU, TF, TM, AF, AM, EF, EM)

Another low poly base game compatible maxis match pack. This time it's boots! As always — for all ages/genders. All the info and links are under cut

4t3 Steeltoe Boots from The Sims 4 Werewolves

▪️ 1284 poly ▪️ 1 recolorable channel ▪️ Custom thumbnails ▪️ Toddlers to Elders ▪️ Everyday, Formalwear, Outerwear ▪️ Base game compatible ▪️ Not valid for randoms ▪️ Available for maternity (both males and females)

DOWNLOAD: Simfileshare

4t3 Valentina Boots

All credits go to @caio-cc, I just converted them to ts3. Original here.

▪️ 1552 poly ▪️ 2 recolorable channels ▪️ Custom thumbnails ▪️ Toddlers to Elders ▪️ Everyday, Formalwear, Outerwear ▪️ Base game compatible ▪️ Not valid for randoms ▪️ Available for maternity (both males and females)

DOWNLOAD: Simfileshare

4t3 GRJK Boots

All credits go to @woosteru, I just converted them to ts3. Original here.

▪️ 1444 poly ▪️ 3 recolorable channels ▪️ Custom thumbnails ▪️ Toddlers to Elders ▪️ Everyday, Formalwear, Outerwear ▪️ Base game compatible ▪️ Not valid for randoms ▪️ Available for maternity (both males and females)

DOWNLOAD: Simfileshare

4t3 Mosch Boots

All credits go to @woosteru, I just converted them to ts3. Original here.

▪️ 1100 poly ▪️ 2 recolorable channels ▪️ Custom thumbnails ▪️ Toddlers to Elders ▪️ Everyday, Formalwear, Outerwear ▪️ Base game compatible ▪️ Not valid for randoms ▪️ Available for maternity (both males and females)

DOWNLOAD: Simfileshare

📣Let me know if there are any issues.

Please, do not re-upload, claim as your own or make profit off my works!

@ts3-ccfinds @ts3ccmp @pis3update @kpccfinds @wanderingsimsfinds @gifappels-stuff @katsujiiccfinds @xto3conversionsfinds and all other ts3 blogs, huge thanks if you reblog!🖤

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Back with the Black-footed Ferret

The black-footed ferret, also known as the American polecat or the prairie dog hunter (Mustela nigripes) is a species of mustelid native to central North America; its historical range stretched from southern Canada to northern Mexico. Its habitat overlaps with that of prairie dogs, and largely consists of prairie, scrubland, and steppe environments.

Black-footed ferrets rely on grasslands for food, and the average adult maintains a territory of 148 acres (60 ha). They are highly solitary, and both males and females will fiercely defend their space from other ferrets. Within this range, the prairie dog hunter feeds almost exclusively on prairie dogs; when prairie dogs aren't available, their diet is supplemented with mice, squirrels, and rabbits. Adults hunt mainly at night, and during the day they will shelter in abandoned prairie dog burrows. While fearsome fighters, both adults and kits are vulnerable to predation from birds of birds of prey, owls, coyotes, badgers, foxes, and bobcats.

Though they generally are not social, American polecats do interact with other polecats once a year to mate, generally in March or April. Females will actively seek out and entice males, and individuals with both sexes likely mate with multiple partners. After mating, the female returns to her territory, and after a 45 day pregnancy she gives birth to a litter of 1-6 kits. The young are blind and deaf at birth, but grow quickly and are weaned at about 6 weeks old. In the fall, they leave their mother to establish their own territories, and reach full maturity by the following year. Adults can live up to 12 years in the wild.

Both male and female black-footed ferrets have similar appearances. Like other ferrets, they have an elongated body and triangular head, to better help them squeeze into small burrows in search of prey. The paws, the tip of the tail, and patches around the eyes are marked in black; the rest of the body is tan, russet, or brown with a light cream underbelly. The average adult measures 50 cm (19.7 cm) long and weighs 650 g (1.43 lb); females are slightly smaller than males.

Conservation status: M. nigripes is considered Engangered by the IUCN. Threats come from habitat destruction and the decimation of their primary food source, as well as human-introduced disease. There is only one known wild population left, though there are a number of captive-bred populations in zoos and reintroduction programs. One group, currently run by Native Americal tribal biologists, is raising funds to continue their work restoring black-footed ferrets to their native habitats (April 18, 205).

Photos

Clyde Nishimura

J. Michael Lockhart

Chris Prague

[unsolicited-opinions]

3/26/25

Haviv Rettig Gur on deaths in Gaza:

The full list of Gazans killed in the war has been released in Gaza. Possibly. At the very least, as Israeli analysts are now finding, there aren't duplicate ID numbers or other tells one finds in obviously manipulated data sets. But here's another reason to trust the data: It shows just how much Israel's warfighting tried to separate combatant from civilian. It seems unlikely that a faked Gazan data set would show such a result. The graph in the first tweet of this thread shows male to female deaths. If female deaths are assumed to be a civilian baseline (the age distribution is roughly the general Gazan population's age distribution), then the enormous spike of the blue line, right in the area of the graph that represents fighting-age men, is the best likely measure of combatant deaths. According to this analyst, the gap comes to over 16,000 dead, or almost exactly a third of total deaths. That's a Gazan data set, not an Israeli one. And it's the most complete one so far, the only one that claims to give all the names of all the dead, the one most likely to be an honest recording of the actual dead. And according to this data set, the death toll in Gaza is two civilians to each combatant, well in line with the highest standards of modern democratic armies. To be clear - this caveat is obvious, but it's important enough to say it explicitly nonetheless - the debate isn't over whether children died in Gaza or crimes were committed. The answer to both is yes. There were definitely and unquestionably war crimes committed in Gaza, air strikes that should not have been carried out. And there are thousands of dead children in this data set. The debate is over the extent, whether these are at a level consistent with the inevitable costs of even the most legitimate kind of war, which will always be horrible, or whether the best data we have shows wanton Israeli killing and disregard for moral rules and international laws. Israel's haters will tweet pictures of dead children in response. If they did that for every war, I'd take them seriously and sympathetically. But the vast majority of them don't. They don't care about dead children, only about destroying Israel. And so they can't actually tell us anything about whether our army, broadly speaking, has fought morally. But this data set can. All war is evil, all war is hell, all war is a kind of civilizational failure. But war is sometimes nevertheless legitimate and inevitable. International humanitarian law came about not to end war, because ending war is impossible, but to mitigate its evils. If this data set is correct - again, a data set released from Gaza and not at all intended to validate any Israeli argument about its battlefield standards - then the costs imposed on Gaza by Israeli warfighting methods are consistent with what is generally considered in the West to be moral and legitimate. It is a comparable ratio to the 2016 Battle of Mosul in which Iraq, the Kurds and America drove ISIS out of the city. War is bad. I respect people who vehemently oppose this one, who question the Israeli political leadership's decisions, who use the war to debate the larger question of Palestinian independence and statehood. These are all legitimate responses to the suffering of Gazans. As is the argument I personally agree with that this war was the only path available to us to rid ourselves and Gaza of the neverending and endlessly destructive scourge of Hamas. But it nevertheless matters - indeed, it may be the most important thing over the long term - that this war's civilian casualties were not worse than other comparable wars, and that even Gazan data sets show that to be the case.

The thread to which Haviv refers is here

[dolicekiss]

Hey,

could you please write a yandere Hannibal one-shot, where the reader is one of Bedelia‘s ex patients/friends and Will‘s best friend. Will soon knows Hannibal is interested in her,( after she met him,while dropping of Will for therapy) and tries to ^save^ her from him. However Hannibal again has his way and maybe it ebds with smut?

♡: ohmygod i was literally about to write a yandere nigel but this is even better, especially knowing how manipulative hannibal can be !! also, i hope i do this justice, thanks :D

Famished

PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal x Gullible, mentally disturbed female reader.

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+ only, minors dni) unprotected sex, manipulative hannibal, oral (female receiving) fingering, yandere hannibal, mention of drugging, mentally disturbed reader and traumatized, taking advantage (hannibal is cooking up plans) slight breeding kink, reader is very gullible <3 that's all

SYNOPSIS: After dropping Will Graham to his therapy session and having a run in with his prominent, renowned psychiatrist — Dr. Hannibal Lecter, you become the object of his infatuation and obsession. It is in his best interests to make you fall for him, make you his. Whether it is by his cunning manipulation tactics or his alluring charms.

For the first time ever, Hannibal Lecter found himself lost and in a puzzled position.

He was at a loss of words for the immense amount of adoration and awe swelling in his chest whenever he laid his eyes on you — which was rare. As you only came by when you had to drop your best friend, Will Graham to his office. It wasn't in your daily routine, as you had other things in life that required your attention but whenever you were available and whenever Will needed your help, you were there.

Because he was there when you needed someone.

Hannibal’s brain was quick to recognize you though, after seeing an old file of yours in Bedelia’s office, with your picture inside. It had all your details and Hannibal felt as if it was meant to be. He'd read your file, in the absence of Bedelia. Completely out of character for even someone like him but he knew you.

He knew all of you.

The exchange of pearly smiles between you and Will when he first introduced you to Hannibal was not very pleasing to the eye for the blonde male. Aggravated but hiding behind the mask of politeness, he only returned those smiles and then watched you leave his office.

That same night, both Hannibal and Will were restless. Will because he had noticed the curiosity awakening in Hannibal’s impassive gaze when he took note of you and Hannibal laid restless because of the uneasiness felt ever since you had left his office. He had this, insatiable urge, he felt —famished.

And only you could satiate that hunger of his.

“Hannibal, you appear lost.” Bedelia commented, the dullness of her office somehow matching his own. The two shared similar tastes, no wonder he was associated with her.

He lifted his gaze up from the red carpet covering the entirety of her floor, fingers tucked understand his chin. He was indeed lost, lost in you. Like an alligator, you had consumed him whole and he slightly twitched in the seat.

Hannibal had a plan.

This was the plan.

“I had a run in with one of Will’s associates, who also used to be your patient.” He responded, bitterly referring to you as his associate instead of his friend because even the idea of that burned him with such envy and jealousy.

Will didn't deserve you.

Not as his friend, not as something else.

Bedelia crossed her leg, staring at him with certain curiosity. “I do not break doctor patient confidentiality.”

“I'm aware.” Hannibal responded as quickly as he could, eyeing the woman. His presence was heavy and his gaze was sharp as an eagle's. Nothing missed him, not even the subtle details and minorities of life.

He noticed everything.

Hannibal laid his hands on his lap, mimicking Bedelia as he crossed his leg over the other but with much more authority. “Why did you stop seeing her?”

Bedilia scoffed. “I didn't stop seeing her, she told me her mind had healed. That she didn't need me anymore, that she was fine.” Her voice was laced with subtle bitterness at how you interrupted their sessions. Bedelia felt like she was being called incompetent indirectly by you.

That was all Hannibal needed.

This time you dropped Will off again but this time, he seemed evidently upset with the idea of you running in with Hannibal Lecter again. It was weird to you, how he acted when it came to you crossing paths with his psychiatrist. Hell, you'd even made a joke about not snatching the handsome doctor away from Will.

But he only responded with a sour face, definitely not impressed with your horrible attempt at a joke.

As he exited the car and headed for his office, you watched him but then your eyes captured a wallet and a phone right where Will was sitting. He'd left his belongings behind. You let out a sigh, contemplating whether to give them to him now or later. You didn't care that your bestfriend acted all sour at the mention of crossing paths with Hannibal.

He was uncomfortable with the idea of you meeting his own psychiatrist, now that was weird. You left the car too, with the items in your hand and headed inside. Air chilly against your skin, you smiled at how its soft hands caressed your skin, prickling it slightly but you basked in the feeling.

As you reached the door, you knocked on it and waited for someone to open it. It was peeled open and there stood Hannibal, and a smile broke when he caught you standing there. Cladded in a long coat, which concealed a casual dress behind it. His gaze took you in, drank you like the most finest wine and then he captured the familiar wallet and phone in your hand.

He'd seen it one too many times in the hand of his patient.

“Here to return his belongings, I assume?”

You nodded your head. “He forgot these.”

Extending out your hand with Will’s things in your hand, the door was pulled open more revealing another figure. Will stared at you, a look of annoyance on his face when he found you standing there. He'd told you, even subtly warned you to not ever come to Hannibal’s office but here you were. Breaking the only rule that he presented before you.

You rolled your eyes at Will, his behavior abnormal and different than usual was something you didn't appreciate at all.

Hannibal took the things from you and then handed them over to Will. “I'll take my leave then, goodbye.”

Just like that, you were out of the towering presence of those two. God, was it only your imagination or did it actually feel suffocating being in their presence together — especially after Will had warned you off basically to not come in front of Hannibal Lecter ever. The way he smiled at you, it was sweet but for some reason, goosebumps woke up on your skin.

You shook your head, went home and after a warm shower, curled up in your bed. An attempt to sleep, for the umpteenth time but everytime you rested your eyes, that same nightmare haunted you once more. Adding a new digit to the list as it did. Reminding you of the darkness that would always stay within you. Rooted inside you.

The blood soaked hands, the screams, the shattering of glass — it replayed over and over again. Like a film that was lagging a lot, hesitating to go forward, so all you could do was rewind and watch that same scene over and over.

You woke up, drenched in sweat. Chest heavy and lungs desperate to drag in as much air as they could. It was all too vivid, like it had happened today and not years before when you were only a little girl.

It wasn't easy living with the fact that you had been spared by your kidnapper while he slaughtered your friend, right before your very gaze. You didn't deem it worth it, didn't find yourself worthy enough to be alive, instead of her.

If he'd only killed you too.

— ♡ —

The next day Will had told you he'd pick you up from your house and take you somewhere, somewhere where he could discuss something important with you. It baffled you when the man pulled up to his own house, the irony of it leaving you with certain uneasiness.

“Will, just tell me. Are you jealous?”

That could be the only reason.

He stayed silent, not answering your question before letting out a sigh of what you assumed to be frustration. He shook his head, fingers scurrying to fix his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Eyebrows furrowed and curls resting against his forehead.

“You need to stay away from Hannibal Lecter. He is a dangerous man, a sadist, a cunning bastard.” You blinked at all the profanities Will Graham was suddenly using to describe his own psychiatrist.

You had no idea of his little plan to play along with Hannibal to catch him so this whole situation was extremely uncomfortable for you.

“You're making that up.” You accused him, with a shake of your hand to dimiss his accusations. “If he was such a cunning bastard, he wouldn't be your psychiatrist.”

“Listen to me.” Will’s voice was dangerously low, frustration obvious in it. “Just do what I'm saying. Don't linger around him, don't even drop me off anymore.”

The water was slowly boiling over your heads and it could spill at any moment. Tension rose in the room and you, with your adamant personality, didn't give in. You wanted— no, you needed to know this. Just what the fuck was going on and why were you being kept in the dark?

It made you feel hopeless and almost sad, because to you it seemed as the only paddle in your life didn't really trust you.

“First, stop hiding shit from me. I'm your fucking bestfriend, Will. Just tell me—”

The loud noise of his palms slamming down on the wooden table in his living room made you flinch. Your body jumping as you let out a shriek at the loud noise, not very fond of them ever since the traumatizing event from your childhood. You hadn't expected him to react like this, especially with such aggression.

“Just stay the fuck away from Hannibal Lecter. That's all I'm asking you to do, you can't even do that?” Eyebrows scrunched and disappointment swirling behind those specs of his, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his tone, words and his unexplainable behavior.

It all overwhelmed you to the core.

Then a knock interrupted you both.

Will and you turned around and found Hannibal standing behind the net door, his aura slicing through the heavy tension that hung like a knife on your heads. You composed yourself, hands with a tremor reaching out to fix the few loose strands of your messy bun.

You swallowed thickly — once more put in a situation where you had to pretend to be fine for someone else. All because of your own bestfriend.

The fact made you vulnerable, so fucking vulnerable. To the point Hannibal would smell it off you and it gave him the perfect opportunity, laid out on a damn silver platter. Awaiting to be devoured.

“What're you doing here, Hannibal?”

Hannibal’s gaze exchanged between the two of you, pretending as if he wasn't just standing outside eavesdropping on your conversation. It was evident on your face that you wanted to leave, as soon as you could but without Will’s help, you couldn't actually leave. His fucking house was in the middle of nowhere and he was your only ride.

You wrapped an arm around yourself instinctively, a habit you'd adapted to when you were little. In a silly little attempt to protect yourself from the harm you faced as a child.

“Had to discuss something about a case but I guess I chose the wrong timing?” His gaze trailed over you and he took notice of the way your chest fell and rose, how you stood there as if you were cornered and scared, your own arm wrapped around you in a sense to provide the comfort you ached for.

You seemed so perfect like this.

On the verge of breaking.

“I'll be outside.” You didn't even bother grabbing your coat, only reached for the door and left without sparing them both a glance.

The cold hit you like a damn truck, shivers dancing across your spine. Regret consumed you about not grabbing your coat from Will’s hanger but you were too stubborn to go back inside and take it. So you chose to suffer in the cold, sitting by the stairs, staring ahead into the darkness the forest and the night had to offer you.

You thought about Will. His behavior, how he'd spoken to you despite knowing your history and it pained you but as usual, you suppressed it. Your pain didn't matter, how could it matter when you were lucky enough to be left alive while your own friend was slaughtered like some fucking animal?

Knees glued to your chest, you didn't know for how long you stayed there but you felt someone put a coat on you. Your body was quick to absorb the warmth it had to offer and you lifted your head up, hoping you'd find Will but instead Hannibal had shown you more decency than your own friend.

‘Cunning bastard, this?’ You thought.

“Thank you.” You held the coat tightly around your shoulder and noticed it wasn't yours, it was his own. Hannibal had given you his own coat and the bare minimum action, the simple act of kindness, it all was enough to worsen the situation for you right now.

For Hannibal, this was perfect.

You were the perfect prey.

He knew Will would react the way he had — his emotional outbursts were bound to get aggressive and he wanted Will to be on thin ice around you. To make you cautious of him, so that your lonely heart will begin searching for another companion.

Him.

“Your car isn't in the driveway, which means Will is going to drop you off.” He said and stared ahead at the empty space next to Will’s car. “But I suppose you don't really wish to be in his presence right now.”

You slowly nodded.

He was a psychiatrist, a witty one at that. There was no point in lying to the man as you tightened the coat around you. His scent bringing along a sense of comfort. It was warm, a little like nature itself.

“If you allow me, I can drop you off.”

Hannibal extended his hand out, staring down at you and you looked at his hand, then him. It was a moment of silence but help was offered and you slowly slipped your hand into his, as he raised you up from the ground. The touch of your hand, being this fucking fortunate enough to be able to feel you flesh to flesh, Hannibal was over the moon. An itch growing in his thumb to run it lightly over the skin of your knuckles but he somehow with the power of a celestial being restrained himself.

Your perfume had branded his skin.

You had branded his skin.

He lead you to his car and you sat inside, all the while Will watched from his window. There was only so much he could do but he knew that Hannibal’s charm was difficult, nearly impossible to resist. Whether he visited in the form of archangel azrael, a companion or a foe.

He was still going to be in control.

The car ride was silent when it began. Your gaze lingering over the passing street lamps, blurring in your vision as a lone tear slid down your cheek. Akin to the person you were, lonely and isolated.

“I could sense the tension in the air.” Hannibal’s soft voice sliced through the silence. “Are you alright?”

You turned to him and nodded. “Just a small misunderstanding, that is all.”

It was, infact, not a misunderstanding. Hannibal knew why you seemed this heartbroken, about the incident that occurred to you as a child, about Will’s outburst and how it terrified you.

Like a ripe fruit, you were all raw and vulnerable. Ready to be consumed by him, to be savored by him, to get rid of his insatiable hunger.

Hannibal believed he could fix you — by not fixing you at all. A broken masterpiece you were and he'd be damned if he tried to put back the pieces together. He preferred the picture he saw right now more.

“He should not have raised his voice at you.”

Your gaze lifted up. “You heard it?”

He nodded, while swiftly taking a turn into a street. “I did not mean to pry, my deepest apologies. I managed to arrive exactly at the time when he was having his outburst.”

“It's fine.” Your head hung low as you played with your fingers in your lap. Hannibal noticed, writing it down in his little mental diary he'd kept in his head. “I don't understand why he behaved the way he did. It was, upsetting.”

You mumbled the last word, shaking your head. Hannibal glanced your way. “You were under Bedelia's care, no?”

By now, you'd come to know that the two were friends and knew each other. But deep down you hoped that they hadn't discussed you like some curse, like some ugly freak who magically survived a cruel man while her friend got swallowed.

“Yes.” You whispered. “Her ways to heal the human mind are, peculiar.”

To be honest, Bedelia seemed like a woman who cared more about the influence and power she had on you than your well-being and that feeling of forced incompetence along with other things became the reason of your end with her.

Hannibal chuckled, barely.

It was just there and you heard it for a single moment. “Did you not find her treatment appropriate?”

“I didn't deem her fit to be my doctor,” you picked at the skin around your nails out of habit. “honestly, I don't find anyone fit to be my doctor.”

There was silence.

But Hannibal soon spoke. “Could the feeling that only you're capable of understanding your mind because of you going through what you did be the cause of this?”

Jesus, the man was spot on.

It slightly unnerved you.

“Are you analyzing me, Dr. Lecter?” There was soft sarcasm your voice was laced with as you smiled.

The man stared straight ahead. “Maybe, would you mind allowing me to analyze you at my office over a glass of wine?”

You knew you couldn't go back to your lonely house, especially after the remnants of Will’s behavior affecting you the way they did. The sound of his palms slamming down on the wood echoed in the back of your mind and you had no other option than to agree to Hannibal’s offer.

But poor you, it was all part of his plan.

He'd read your file, thoroughly, well aware of your triggers and your mind. How it worked, processed things, he knew it all and the wicked man used it to his advantage. To lure you in like a prince charming only to shift into a hideous beast.

When you made it to his office, the man had offered you the finest of wine. The most expensive one, all the way from Florence and you could practically taste italy in the bottle — delicious, warm and fruity. You reveled in each sip as you sat across the man on his table, flipping through a book about the human mind.

You enjoyed reading books, found solace in them and Hannibal had all the more to offer.

“I can't believe you've got these many books.” You pointed out, lifting your eyes up at the man who was now coming down from the ladder with multiple books in his arms. It was sweet how he was offering you his book, his wine, his company because somewhere he knew you needed it.

Loneliness was a slow death.

Poison so bitter but painful, it tore you apart piece by piece.

He ambled his way towards you, taking a seat on the chair and placing the books right in front of you on the table. “These are nothing. I own a library too.”

Your eyes widened. “You're kidding.”

Hannibal’s heart skipped a beat at how your eyes expanded in sheer shock, his lips expressing a small smile. You seemed akin to a child in that moment, innocent and appalled by the idea.

“No, dear. I'm fortunately not.” He replied, hands settled on the table. “I could take you there.”

“I'd love to go.” You were quick to reply back but then composed yourself a little, not wanting to come across as desperate. You began coursing through the book, reading the contents of it simultaneously sipping your wine.

Then Hannibal spoke. “You seem disturbed, dear.”

You stopped reading and looked at him, with a confused expression before realizing what he meant. Will’s behavior had left you in a great deal of confusion as well as underlined fear. It was stomach churning, when you remembered how dark his eyes were or how angry he appeared. All too similar to the fragments of the man that had abducted you during you childhood.

“He reminded me of him.” You blunted out, not really caring anymore to conceal your emotions and fears. It had to be how vulnerable you were seeming, craving human companionship and attention. To be comforted and reassured that nothing was wrong with you.

Hannibal leaned forward. “Of who?”

“The man who took me.” Your fingertip danced over the stamped ink on the beige piece of paper, gaze following along the letters and lines. “Every aggressive man reminds me of him.”

“Your fear of aggressive men stems from your childhood, as one had taken you. It is no surprise you'd feel uneasiness in Will’s presence now.” Hannibal was right. These heightened emotions of fear and discomfort would only consume you if you continued seeing Will in the light that he had presented himself in.

He was your friend. Your best friend, the man who was always there — to be your paddle and to be your pillar but now you were scared of him. Of everything, the whole situation to stay away from Hannibal. You were right in his office and so far, he had brought you no harm at all.

Only provided you with company.

“He told me to stay away from you.” The lump in your throat began to grow. If you had a gut feeling, it had definitely melted in the presence of Hannibal. Blinded by his charm and his long blonde strands hovering over his forehead. “It was confusing, Dr. Lecter. It was— too much. He repeated it like a broken record, over and over again. Ordered me even and I don't understand why he was telling me to be this cautious when you're his psychiatrist.”

Hannibal and you made eye contact, for a brief moment before you averted your gaze from him, lacking the courage to look straight into his penetrating eyes.

“Will is unstable.” Hannibal stated, as he caressed his own hand with the fingers of the other. “I have no intention to ruin the camaraderie you both have but his attempt to kill me tells me enough about his mind.”

Your eyes expanded.

Will tried to do what?

And the fact that Hannibal seemed so unbothered about it and continued seeking him as a patient. It was like Bedelia’s case all over again, except hers actually ended meanwhile Hannibal continued giving Will his time and effort.

“But why? I don't get it and you're still seeing him—just, what is going on?” Stressed and frustrated, feeling like you were being kept in the dark, you brought your fingers upto your forehead and began massaging it. It was too much for you, especially when you had your own battles to fight.

Hannibal reached for you, his own hand placed above yours. In silent comfort. “Will is my friend, or so I see him as one. He's unstable and his acts of impulsivity are my responsibility to fix although—”

He stopped and tilted his head. “I can see it is beginning to affect you too.”

You sighed, as you didn't remove your hand from underneath his. Only watching him with a gaze clouded in confusion. This was all like plates shattering over and over on the top of your head and still there is no bleeding, only the throbbing pain that increased with time.

Maybe Hannibal was right.

He was his doctor after all. Will appeared unstable, especially after his behavior tonight and the complexity of the situation terrified you.

“It is humiliating to be flesh.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you finished all your wine. The sound of Hannibal’s chair scraping against the floor caught your attention and you watched as he rose up from his seat and walked towards you. In his hand was a sketchbook that he'd retrieved from his table.

He stood next to you, placing the sketchbook over your book and then leaning down. The close proximity should've made you uncomfortable, should've sent you scurrying out of his office but because of how gentle he was, you didn't budge. “Open it.”

Your fingers with a subtle tremor in them reached for the crisp edge of the sketchbook and you flipped it open revealing the art of pencils. Humans, bodies, organs, they were all presented to beautifully and you looked up at Hannibal.

Face a few inches apart.

“You made this?”

He nodded.

You flipped through a few more and resisted the urge to caress the face of the greek personalities he'd drawn. They were so beautiful, as beautiful as him and you didn't find yourself uncomfortable like how you expected you would when laying eyes upon the more —gruesome part of his art.

It was beautiful.

“This is truly spectacular.” You commented in a whisper as you raised your stare from the sketches and looked up at him. Your lips were only a few inches apart and Hannibal found himself completely captivated by you. The sheer vulnerability and raw pain in your gaze was tugging him towards his arousal, undeniable and strong for you.

He swallowed as his dark eyes took in the sight of your lips.

And you repeated his actions, staring at his lips in return.

It all happened too fast. He'd kissed you, hand reaching to brush the hair behind your shoulder, then moving to grasp your face in it as he delved deeper. Hannibal was holding back so much, concealing the animal that he was from you, hiding beneath the cloak of a gentle demeanor and a beautiful face. His thumbs swiped over your cheek in gentle brush strokes as he pried your lips open, inserting his tongue.

Draping it around your own, the kiss grew intense and this was the first time you'd ever gotten involved with a man like this. It was too inundating but it also felt extremely good as you had denied yourself this pleasure for so long.

Hannibal’s hands slithered down to your waist, to circle around it curve of it as he raised you from the chair, lifting you up to place you down on the table. Still your height couldn't accommodate with his, neck craned up to kiss him. He soon broke the kiss, forehead pressed against yours as his warm breath mingled with yours.

“It is not humiliating to be flesh, rather special and profound.” He whispered, in response to your sentence from earlier as you gazed up at him. Eyes clouded by desire as your heart swelled with finally feeling like you were being understood. Hannibal understood you.

The connection you felt with him was intense.

The man leaned, and you expected him to kiss you again but this time he chose to attack your neck, peppering kisses all over the unmarked skin. His hands rested by your side, fingers digging into the wooden desk to keep the monster inside him at bay. He was too overwhelmed by his wanton for you but you were a fragile little thing.

He couldn't scare you, not yet.

His teeth dug into your skin, biting and tugging like some beast and you winced in response. It felt good but it was something you hadn't tried with anyone before. You've had sex before— one boy and he was nowhere near the same level as Hannibal. Just by biting on your skin, the man had you squirming.

“If Will finds out—”

He silenced you by pressing a finger on your lips. “Will shouldn't care. You're a mature, independent, grown woman. You know what you want, don't you?”

You nodded.

He was treating you like an adult, rather than some broken little doll. But that was Hannibal’s play, he knew that you craved the validation, you wanted to get treated like an adult and not some damaged person. After being in therapy, people almost treated you as you were some mentally unstable person who didn't know what she wanted. A broken, deranged person that didn't know better.

Hannibal made you feel differently, in such a short amount of time.

“So beautiful.” He whispered, as his fingers moved to the buttons of your dress. He unbuttoned each, swiftly proving that he was an experienced man and then his hands rose up to your shoulders, slipping the dress off and exposing the bare skin.

Your breath hitched and in a couple of minutes, Hannibal had completely rid you of any clothes. His own blazer soon came off, followed by his tie and then his shirt. Before you could reach for the buckle of his dress pants, he scoped you up in his arms and took you over to the couch. Lips pressed against yours, he bit harshly on your lower lip, enough to draw blood and somehow you enjoyed this aggressive manner of his kissing.

He laid you down on the couch and crawled on top of you, his knee settled between your thighs. You whimpered upon contact with his clothed knee as he traveled down, while leaving kissing against your skin, face buried between your thighs. The man held you open to his lascivious gaze, pressing a soft kiss against your clit causing you to shudder. Your thighs twitched in response and he loved how your body responded to his touch.

You were a delicious fucking sight.

He licked a long stripe across your cunt and your back lifted off the couch in anticipation. Hannibal pushed you back down, both his hands holding you firmly down on the couch, his arm prying your thighs further open. Closing his lips around your clit, he sucked feverishly and you cried out. It felt too fucking good.

One hand released you, dropping between your legs. His fingers ran up and down your cunt, coating themselves in the slick of your arousal and then slowly, he added a finger into you. He was gentle with it and stared up at you, mouth still continuing its assault on your clit while holding eye contact. Tears danced on your waterline, waiting for that one single push to slide down in rivulets on your face.

His finger picked up its pace then he added another. Your wet walls clung tightly onto his fingers, pulling them in and he reveled in all the little sounds you and your body kade. The whimpers you released, the wet sounds of your greedy pussy and the ragged breathing escaping you.

“How do you feel, Darling? How good am I making you feel with just my mere fingers?”

Hannibal’s voice had fallen a few octaves lower, deep and rough. You parted your lips open to speak but the wicked man curved his finger and your lips only let out a gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. He grinned at your reaction. “Answer me.”

You swallowed down another whine threatening to run out of your throat. “It feels amazing, Hannibal. Just —so good.”

He added a third finger and curved them altogether, hitting them against the little sponge of pleasure inside you, rapidly and with increasing speed. Your hands traveled down to grip on his golden strands, fisting them as he continued licking across your cunt and fucking you with his fingers.

Then he stopped.

Dropping all his movement.

His tongue replaced his fingers causing you to buck your hips in anticipation and need, aching for more. Hannibal was feasting on you and he wasn't going to stop anytime soon. He was beyond it. Not possessing any sort of self control anymore.

Fingernails digging into the side of your hips, he dragged them down into your skin as he hungrily ate you out. Tongue plunging in and out of your tiny hole, licking and savoring the taste of you. You were fucking sweet, heavenly and delicious. Hannibal’s mind was clouded by his lust, his ache for you. How he wished he could trap you inside thess walls of his office, of his home and never let you out ever again.

Even the sun and moon didn't deserve to capture the sight of you.

“Hannibal, I'm close.” You whined, thighs shaking as your stomach churned with a foreign feeling. It was going to be fucking intense, you knew it because of how much you were shaking.

He looked up at you. “Come for me, Darling. Make a mess.”

Your stomach clenched and twisted at his words and you soon unfurled underneath him. Thighs suffering from perpetual convulsions and eyes seeing white, rolling to the back of your head. Blood pumping in your chest, spreading like wildfire in your veins as your forehead perspired. The searing pain from your tight grip on his hair only hardened his cock, as it stirred against his thighs. Hannibal reveled in the pain you inflicted upon him.

He rose up from between your legs and your overstimulated pussy throbbed at the sight of him. Your orgasm dripped down his chin, plump lips glossy and covered in the juices you'd produced. Face messy and flushed, he stared back at you with a hazy look in his darkened eyes.

When you came down from your high, you found Hannibal completely naked. Long gone were his dress pants and underwear and your were taken aback at the length of his cock as well as the girth. The first and last time you slept with someone, their size was nowhere the same as Hannibal. The drastic change was slightly overwhelming for you, it even terrified you a little.

He took a seat on the couch, at the end of your feet and then pulled you up, settling you on top of his thighs. Holding you in his muscular arms, the man held the tip of his cock against your hole and then slowly sat you down.

You head fell against his shoulder, face buried in his neck. Being able to feel him like this, sinking all the way down to the hilt, you could only whimper. Hannibal made you feel so full and it was only the beginning.

You felt his fingers trapping your cheeks between them, as he pulled your face out of its hiding spot. Four fingers resting on one side while his thumb squeezed the other. Tears sprung out, sliding across your cheeks and crashing into his digits. You sniffled as he stared at you. Eyes lacking emotions and face still. Hannibal was a man who possessed immense control over himself, he couldn't give away his obsession for you.

“You will look at me.” He commanded, voice thick with need. “As I fuck your little cunt and make you unravel on my cock, you will not move your gaze away from me. Understood?”

You could only nod.

His grip tightened on your cheeks and you winced, lips forming a forced pout. You knew what that little act meant and you parted your lips, managing to mumble out, “Yes, I understand.”

Hannibal nodded, satisfaction glimmering in his dark eyes as he released your face. Both hands now settled on your hips, he began to move you up and down with your help. You gasped every time you felt his cock graze against your wet wells, the feeling consuming your ability to think. Your nails managed to draw blood from his skin but Hannibal didn't care. He wanted you to leave more marks, brand him as his, make him yours.

Oh he was already yours.

“Move, Darling.” You started to move too, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down on him. Over and over again, it was repetitive and Hannibal’s face was full of pleasure. His grip tight and firm on your hips, almost as if he were trying to seperate the flesh from the bone.

But you liked it.

He held you like he didn't want you to disappear.

You fucking loved that.

You both stared into each other's eyes, Hannibal’s domineering stare overpowering yours an you nearly made the grave mistake of shutting your eyes but the little pinch on your waist made you peel them back open as fast as you closed them.

“Don't be disobedient now. I expected better from you.” You could sense the disappointment in his voice and you shook your head, still riding his cock and clenching around him everytime you felt his tip bruise your sensitive spot.

You stared at him, through a blurred vision. “You're intimidating—” You sputtered, the sentence breaking. “when you stare at me like this, its intimidating.”

“Do I scare you?”

You shook your head. “No, you're beautiful.”

That was enough to cause Hannibal to become a mess. Fuck, he was all over the place and unfortunate enough for you, you couldn't see it but the man was a mess on the inside. The skipped beating of his heart, the way his eyes were almost turned into little crescents, the smile lines appearing for a split moment before vanishing.

You felt him press his lips against yours, this time in a rough kiss. Arms circled tightly around you. He kissed you like a wild beast having its feast, enjoying its food. His teeth grazed against yours when you opened your mouth, lips against lips, tongue dancing with tongue. Salivas mixing together, it was too messy and you felt the mixed saliva dripping down your chin. He lapped at your wet muscle, sucking on it.

All the while he slammed you down on his hard cock and you let out a high pitched whine into his mouth. That action alone was enough for his cock to harden even more inside you, his hands now unwrapping from your waist and toying with your bare breasts.

“Such a tight little pussy—” He grunted, head thrown back. “so fucking tight.”

Fingers rolling your nipples between them, tugging and massaging the soft flesh. The searing kiss, the sensitive touch of his fingers against your breasts, the slow and rough thrusts of his cock — all of it combined pulled you near another orgasm.

Your toes curled at each thrust and then Hannibal switched the position, laying you down on the couch and getting on top of you with his cock still inside you. Grabbing you by your ankles, he placed them on his shoulders and began to fuck you at an animalistic pace.

“Hanni—" You cried out, lips agape and tears continuously falling down.

He didn't stop. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, a snarl making its way to his face and that was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. To the point it made you tighten around him. “You're mine. You're mine to fuck, mine to claim, mine to own and possess.”

You took those words as something said in the heat of the moment but Hannibal? Oh he was serious. He meant each and every word, every syllable came straight from the darkness in his heart.

His hips snapped and your stomach went crazy into knots. “Please, please. Harder, please Hannibal.”

You were crying out for him at this point. Your hand reaching out to touch his chest but he didn't allow you, grabbing both of your hands and pinning them above your head on the couch. Bending your knees to the point they were pushed against your chest, his face grew closer to yours. Staring deeply into your soul and that moment felt intimate more than anything you'd ever experienced in the world.

“My pretty Darling.”

You swallowed.

Just his dark gaze. You could live your whole life while being captured in those obsidian eyes.

Snaps growing relentless, he kept fucking you till you came all over his cock. Your orgasm slipping out in the form of liquid, making a mess everywhere. Staining his couch, his chest, his cock. Leaving evidence of the sexual encounter between the two of you in a moment. Hannibal let out a chuckle — deep and soft. Music from heaven to your ears.

You almost ascended to heaven from how good it felt. His cock still thrusting up against your cervix, bruising your spot and continuing its assault. Your sensitive body hadn't even calmed down, still twitching and shivering but Hannibal didn't seem it fit to stop.

A low growl rumbled from his chest as the sound of skin against skin grew, reverberating against the walls of his office. With a loud groan, he also spilled inside you. Coating your walls white, throbbing and pulsating inside you. Filling you up to the brim and he didn't care if you were to get pregnant.

Hannibal was a father once.

To his little sister Mischa.

He wouldn't mind having a child of his own, especially with you.

He fucking loved filling you up and he'd make sure to do it again. After all, you were his now.

The man slowly adjusted himself underneath you on the couch, making you lay on top of his to the side. Arms wrapping tightly around you, he held you pressed against his chest as you came down from your high. His hand brushing your hair gently, caressing your forehead.

Only the fire crackling in the fireplace could be heard, mixed with the soft uneven rhythms of your breathing. You couldn't believe you'd slept with Hannibal, right after your best friend had a literal outburst about it. Guilt took over and you slowly sat up, grabbing Hannibal’s shirt from the floor to cover yourself up with it.

“You're thinking.” He commented.

You looked at him and sighed. “I have this guilt consuming me.”

Hannibal reached over, brushing your hair behind. Playing with the strands. “Why's that?”

“Will is unstable, and I have been there too. I should have heard him out instead of running away from him.” You sighed, shoulders slumped. Hannibal didn't like that, he didn't like that you were feeling bad now. After all he'd done, he couldn't have you feeling bad for Will.

“You reacted according to your trauma, it is completely valid. You were in a situation where you didn't feel safe, so you removed yourself from it.” Thumb caressing against your cheek, he smiled. It was subtle. “You should prioritize yourself more often.”

Somewhere Hannibal was right too.

You leaned against his chest, closing your eyes. Then you felt a stinging sensation in the back of your nape. It hurt but it wasn't extreme, like something had pierced you. Just then you looked up and saw Hannibal already staring at you.

Your vision became distorted.

“Hannibal..?” You called out, confused and in a daze. “What's happening?”

“Go to sleep, Darling. You'll be alright soon enough.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and fear filled you up. Just what was happening? The man held you in his embrace, caressing your cheek as you slowly lost all control of your limbs and fell against his chest.

Darkness dragged you in, from your feet and the last thing you remembered was seeing Hannibal with a syringe in his hand.

[delulujuls]

tinder buddies | ln4

hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!

summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small

warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.

Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.

Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.

The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.

"u up?"

Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing"

The reply message appeared a moment later.

"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"

"And yet you see, surprise"

The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.

"wanna call?"

"I think you know the answer"

She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.

Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.

Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.

"New background?"

He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.

"I'm away from home"

"Work?"

"Too many questions"

There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.

"Yeah, you're right. Strip."

Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.

"You look good, baby. Red suits you"

She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"

"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"

Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.

"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."

She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't let me enjoy you"

He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"

He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.

The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."

“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”

Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.

Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.

"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."

"Someone has quite an ego here"

"I know my capabilities, baby."

She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."

His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.

"What does 33 mean?"

He asked when the girl started getting dressed.

"What?"

"Tattoo on your arm"

The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.

"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"

Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.

"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."

Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.

"Do you know Formula 1?"

He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.

"I know a thing or two"

"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"

The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.

"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"

Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?

"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."

The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.

"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"

“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”

She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.

After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.

"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."

"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."

He answered, also wiping himself.

“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”

“Good night, baby. You too.”

She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.

As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?

Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.

Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.

"Sure, no problem"

He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.

The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.

He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.

"How's your mood before qualifying?"

Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.

"What? Something wrong?"

The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.

He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."

Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.

Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.

"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."

Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.

"How do you know what I look like?"

"turn around"

Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.

"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"

She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.

"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"

Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.

"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."

Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.

"u know exactly why its tight"

"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."

When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.

"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"

[absurdthirst]

Fruits of Passion {Marcus Acacius x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN!!!! War, dubious consent, talk of whores, sexual repression, masturbation, oral sex (male and female receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms

Comments: Sent to wage war on your kingdom, Marcus seeks to minimize bloodshed as do you as your realm's queen. So you feed him fructus voluptatis, which he finds has a very strange affect on him and his army.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Marcus Acacius MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Marcus sighs as he strides down the marble hallway, his sandals slapping and making a noise that echoes. He has been summoned to the emperors and he is reluctant to hear about their latest whim. He nods at the guards on duty and enters the ostentatious room. "Ah General. Welcome. Welcome." Geta coos while Caracalla smirks at a woman who is redressing. Both men are handed a cup of wine by the woman before she leaves. "She is available if you wish to indulge." Caracalla smirks and Marcus rocks his jaw, "I am fully satiated, thank you Caesar." He bows his head slightly and Geta wraps his robe around him and takes the cup of wine from Caracalla's hand. "We want you to conquer more land for Rome...in our name." He says after he has a sip. Marcus frowns a little, "but I just returned." The men look at each other and laugh, "and you shall return again. With more land." Caracalla says, tilting his chin. Marcus knows there is no argument. He must leave. "I shall gather my men." He bows his head and Geta grins, "may Mars bring you home victorious." 

**** 

You stand on your balcony, staring out across the land that your ancestors fought for, that your grandfather and father fought hard for. Heavy is the head that wears the crown and you know that intimately. Their riders kick up dust and you can see the cloud coming closer to your kingdom. "They will be here before sunset. No doubt they will set up camp and rest before they attack. Let us prepare to fight." You turn to your general who nods and bows his head. Once again, you must fight Rome for your home.

The sounds of war are nothing new to Marcus, as wearisome as the sound may be. The whistling of arrows as they slice through the air or the sounds of men screaming as they lay broken on the fields to rot and fall silent. And yet - he has never encountered an army with as much skill and determination as the one he leads. Not an inch of ground has been taken, not succeeded by the ruler of the lands he wishes to conquer on orders from his emperors. Tactics that he had never imagined before used to repel his advances and he is sustaining more losses than he had calculated.

You watch from your balcony as your men fight for their independence. They are trained well, trained by their fathers and their fathers who knew these days would come. "I want to be out there with them." You tell your advisor, Cyrus, who stood alongside your late father. "You are well trained but these men would not hesitate to take you, to brutalize you and use your body as an example to all that refuse Rome. You are where you are supposed to be. Leading from afar so the men have a home to return you, a queen to return to who will offer them glory and reward." You nod, biting your lip as you prepare for losses and to console the wives of those whose husbands fell under your sword.

The siege has lasted for weeks, Marcus sighs wearily as he stares up at the fortified city. He has to commend the generals of this army, they have trained their men well. While he believes this is foolish, he must succeed for his emperor’s. “Raise the flag.” He commands. “I wish to talk to their generals.”

You are surprised when Cyrus enters your chambers and declares that the Romans have asked for a truce. You stand up and adjust your robes, "they shall have their truce but I wish to meet their general. Have an adult discussion." You command and Cyrus nods, bowing his head as he leaves your chambers.

Once Marcus learns that the generals are willing to meet to discuss terms, he takes the time to bathe, wanting to give the appearance of a leader who has nothing to worry about. Dressing in the impressive armor, shiny and oiled, he strides out of his tent to meet the party.

Cyrus is among the men meeting the Roman general and his men. They journey into no man's land and both groups stand opposite each other. "Shall we take this as your surrender?" Cyrus calls out and his men laugh while the Roman's clench their jaws, frustrated by the length of this conquest. They should've been returning home to their warm beds by now. "We are not surrendering." Marcus replies, his voice strong as he steps forward from the lineup. "I want to meet your infamous queen. The one whose name echoes across the Empire." He declares and Cyrus steps forward, "she wants to meet you. Only you." He adds after a pause.

Marcus glances at the general and the men flanked at his sides. He can feel his own men bristle at the suggestion but he holds up his hand. “Very well.” He decides, reaching for the belt that holds his sword. “I will come meet your queen unarmed.” He tells them, “but if I am taken captive or killed, my men will destroy this city by fire.” He warns.

You watch as the food is laid out, meats and cheeses alongside fruits. Copious amounts of wine...it's a feast for your enemy. You know the General will be suspicious of your generosity but that is how your father taught you politics. "He is here, my Queen." Your guard announces and you nod, "send him in." You order and the doors open to reveal the Roman General escorted by Cyrus. You stand straighter and prepare to face the man representing the enemy. "Welcome, General." You greet him coolly, holding your hand out to him.

Surprised by the apparent feast, he takes your hand and bows over it slightly. Unsure of what to call you in these circumstances since he would not call you his queen. “I have heard tales of your courage and beauty, but I find them to be under-exaggerated.” He says, looking up and wondering how you have not already been conquered with a face as beautiful as yours.

You tell him your name, "I do not care for titles" you say as you offer him a smile, lowering your hand from his and you nod to Cyrus, letting him know you will be fine. "And I have heard many stories of the great General Acacius of Rome. You have conquered many lands. but mine will not be one of them. Come, I am certain you are hungry after your battles with my men. I fear my mother would turn in her grave if I was not a good host." You gesture to the table as Cyrus closes the doors, leaving you alone with Marcus.

Marcus appreciates your plain speaking after dealing with the subterfuge and double entendres of Roman society. Especially in the emperors’ palace. “Marcus.” He tells you, giving you his first name. “Unfortunately, we will take this land because my emperors wish to claim it for their glory.” He sighs. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement so that not too many of your people need to die.”

You sit down and stare at him from across the table. "I would like to counteroffer. You leave now and Rome will not lose more of her soldiers. No doubt your Emperors wish to expand their lands across the sea, I do not understand what my lands have to offer other than territory." You don't mention the natural resources your lands have, it's a well kept secret among your people and why you are so defensive. "I think the easiest solution is you return to your emperors, inform them that my lands are not for the taking, but bring good news that the losses were fewer than anticipated so you have more men for your next conquest." You smile, picking up the pitcher of wine to pour him a cup before you pour your own, setting the pitcher down then you pick up your cup to take a sip.

Marcus watches as you take a sip, wary of a poison that you would offer him. Furrowing his brow when you swallow and smirk at him. “Unfortunately, my emperors would not accept that.” He admits. “They would just send another army, three times the size of the one with me.” He takes his own sip of wine and has to admit that it’s delicious. He sets the cup down and waits to see if it will have any ill effects on him, settling back in the comfortable chair. “You could always surrender now, I would be willing to negotiate fair terms for your people.” He pauses. “And you, as Queen.”

You tilt your head, watching him as you take another sip of wine. “I have told my men to offer food to your troops. I know you have traveled far from Rome and I am certain your supplies are dwindling. You did not anticipate my people to hold out so long. I’m sorry to disappoint, but we will not surrender. I will not surrender.” You declare, “but let us not discuss battles when I am certain you are hungry. Please, eat.” You gesture to the table.

He doesn't know what kind of game you are playing but he watches as you start to pick and choose items randomly from the table to eat. Obviously proving that the food is safe. "Why would you feed my men?" He demands. "It will just allow us to linger here longer. Fight harder."

“Our culture.” You explain, “it would be remiss to not feed a guest, no matter how unwelcome they may be. My ancestors fed their enemies. It is tradition.” You explain, “and I will follow tradition.” You reach for some bread, wanting to show him that you aren’t poisoning him. “This is our local fruit. A delicacy here.” You declare as you pick a piece up and pop it in your mouths humming in content.

He is curious about the fruit, never seeing such a thing before. It looks like it is juicy and sweet, making him hesitate for only a moment before he reaches for the fruit. "Local, you say?" He asks, inspecting it closely and admiring the vivid pink coloring of the fruit's skin before he pops it in his mouth. The emperors would want to try any local resources that they do not have in Rome.

You watch him chew on the fruit, picking up your cup of wine. “Tell me, General, how is your camp? Are you comfortable? Are you served well? Serviced by whores?” You ask nonchalantly, tilting your head and licking your lips as you reach for another piece of fruit.

He nearly chokes on his tongue by the way you ask about his sex life. Managing to swallow the sweet fruit, he reaches for the wine again to wash it down so he doesn't cough. "No." He admits, with a shake of his head. "I do not use the women that frequent the camps." He never has since he had gained rank and privilege.

You hum, letting your eyes trail along his form, covered by intricate armor that has you admiring his strong form. “I imagine they are very upset by that slight. Do you partake in your fellow soldier?” You ask, curious about the General and his tendencies.

His brow arches up at your boldness and he takes another sip of the wine and sets it down before plucking another piece of the fruit from the tray. "No." He chuckles. "I satisfy my own needs when they become urgent." He tilts his head. "Are you always so concerned with the sexual appetites of your enemy?"

You chuckle, leaning forward in your chair, “to know a man’s sexual appetite is to know how he fights on a battlefield. It is easy to ascertain your weakness and you’ve just told me yours, General.” You smirk, licking your lips as you pluck a grape from the tray and place it in your mouth.

He snorts, unsure of what kind of thought process that is, and he shrugs. "So what did I just tell you?" He asks curiously, wondering what you could possibly get from not fucking camp whores.

“That you’re pent up. You haven’t fucked a woman since you have been on the road for many months. You’ve been camped outside my lands for weeks. You must be aching. Yearning for a release, to bury your cock in a woman and find some mind numbing bliss in her. You’re mentally foggy. Frustration can do that. A man with empty balls has a clear mind. He’s not preoccupied with the need to relax, he’s not distracted. That’s your weakness and distracted soldiers make mistakes. You’ll make a mistake.” You finish and cross your arms together to push your breasts up.

He knows the blatant attempt to make him look at your breasts and he smirks as he does just that. He has control, even if his cock twitches under his armor at the soft swell of flesh on display. “Who says my balls are full?” He decides if you speak as crudely as a soldier, he should not temper his own words for the sake of propriety. “My hand can provide a release when needed and I do not have to deal with a whore thinking that because a general ruts between her thighs that she runs the camp.”

You chuckle, leaning back in your seat, and you reach for your cup of wine once more. He’s smart and handsome. If he weren’t the enemy, you’d definitely have him between your thighs for the foreseeable. “You may think the men run the camp but those women work harder, fight harder, than any soldier. They fight to survive in a world that has their death warrants signed. So your hand suffices and you come here now, ready to accept my surrender and then what? You’ll return to your uxor?” You raise your eyebrows, “are you loyal to your wife and that is why you are satisfied with your hand?”

You are impressive and smart. Beautiful and brave. It’s a fascinating combination and if he did not have to conquer your lands, he would be interested in seducing you. “I am not married.” He reveals. “No uxor waiting at home, no lover.” He shrugs. “I will go home and see what next campaigns the emperors would send me on.” It's almost a dreary existence, but he has no choice right now.

You scoff, “they have everything they could ever wish for. Riches beyond imagination. Gold, wine, medicines. Yet it’s never enough. They are greedy and they will be the downfall of the Empire.” You declare with a scoff, “you are not like most Romans. Many would’ve come in here with a concealed weapon to try and kill me. I've had others try. All have failed.” You warn the General and you pick up another piece of fruit, “have another piece. It’s our greatest asset.” You order as you bite into the fruit.

Marcus helps himself to the tasty fruit, reminding him of a sweet cherry, but it’s slightly tart. Delicious and juicy, it makes his mouth water when he eats another. “What is this fruit called?” He asks. “I will have to bring a wagon full back to my emperors.”

You smirk, plucking another piece for yourself, "it's called fructus voluptatis and I am certain it would be wasted on your emperors. They would not appreciate its lingering sweetness." You shake your head, having heard rumors about the indulgent Roman Emperors. "Tell me, Marcus, why do you fight for them?"

Marcus knows that it would be foolish to admit the truth to you, it could get back to emperors, but he is tired of fighting useless causes. Tired of sending men to die. “Because I serve Rome and her people.” He sighs, picking up another piece of the fruit and eating it eagerly. “They are the will of Rome, so I serve them.” He does not say that if he refuses he would be killed, but he’s certain you know that. “If I am leading the army, perhaps I can send a few more sons and husbands back to their families.”

You tilt your head and narrow your eyes slightly, “you are not what I expected, General.” You declare and he chuckles, wiping his lower lip with his thumb, “and what did you expect?” You hum, trailing your fingers along the tabletop, “a beastly, pompous, prick who would do anything to destroy my people and take our land. You are…definitely not beastly. You are here with me when most men would’ve picked up that knife and held it to my neck already.”

Marcus watches your fingers, the image of them trailing over his chest and wrapping around his cock springing to life in his mind and making him shudder. His half hard cock twitching and he coughs slightly and shifts in his seat. “I have no wish to harm you or any of your people.” He admits. “I am a violent man by trade, but not by nature.”

You hum, trailing your finger along the rim of your cup, your eyes looking at him from under your lashes, “I can tell that you are not blood thirsty. You do not take pleasure in your kill so I ask once again what’s your pleasure? Your hand? Do you not want more?”

Marcus feels your question humming through his veins, lighting up desires and needs that he has spent a long time burying under duty and a strict sense of propriety. The emperors may indulge themselves in whatever and whomever they please, but Marcus wishes to treat the people under his direction with respect. He snorts. “Of course I want more.” He grunts, cock twitching again and thickening to the point where it’s tenting the tunic in his lap. Head already weeping with need like he’s been drawing out his pleasure like he sometimes does. It seems to take the edge off for longer. “But I don’t want a woman to crawl into my bed because she feels she has to, or to gain some favor by being my whore.” He admits. “I would have found a woman to enjoy my time with while I was in Rome, but the emperors were too eager to claim your land for their own.” His tongue is surprisingly loose and he frowns as he reaches for another little fruit. They are addictive.

“You’re a handsome man, General. I imagine most women would only be too eager to fall into your bed, give you pleasure like sucking your cock, letting you use their bodies for your frustrations. Without payment of coin. Simply because they want to.” You smile, licking your lips as he chews on the fruit

He shifts again as he swallows, wondering if you think that seducing him will send him on his way without your lands. Shivering again and shaking his head slightly as he reaches for his wine to wash away the way his mouth suddenly waters slightly. He had watched you lick your lips and wants to taste the fruit from them. "I have had my share of lovers." He admits, his voice raspy. "I believe they were all satisfied."

You notice his eyes darken and he fidgets in his seat. You smirk and watch him struggle, the effects of the fruit hitting him. “I’m certain they were. You seem like a capable lover. Nothing worse than a selfish leader. It doesn’t bode well to success. You, General, would be a force to be reckoned with in bed…as well as the battlefield.”

He feels his face flush at your compliment, something that never happens to him. He doesn't fluster easily, but his entire body seems to warm through. "Then you know you should surrender to me." He grunts, imagining you submitting to him in bed rather than surrendering your lands. "I will treat you fairly."

You scoff, shaking your head, “I will never surrender. I would sooner die alongside my people than allow Rome to take my land.” You say as you trail your fingers along your collarbone. “Are you feeling okay, General? You look flushed.” You comment, pouting slightly.

Marcus clears his throat, swallowing again at the excess saliva filling his mouth. "Fine." He rasps out, nodding as if that would make it believable and he downs the rest of his wine quickly before setting the cup down. His eyes slide along your skin with your fingers, watching the innocent move with a hunger to trace that same path with his lips.

You giggle, noticing how affected he is, and you reach for the clip that keeps your robes together. You smirk, seeing his eyes widen as your breasts are exposed to his eyes. “It’s so hot in here. Are you heated, General?” You ask, picking up your fan to try and cool yourself down. “Forgive me for my nudity, I am a little dizzy.”

Marcus chokes out your name, ripping his eyes from your tits even though he wants to touch them. His hands curl into fists so that he doesn’t reach for you. “Is that- do your people just strip down when the heat overcomes you?” He asks tightly, his entire body on fire now and he is starting to sweat.

You continue to fan yourself, leaning back in your seat, “when we are overwhelmed. Of course.” You shrug like it’s nothing and your tits jiggle with the move. “It’s best to have some cool air on your body instead of sitting in silence and suffering.” You coo, “you look overheated.”

He is. He’s so fucking hot right now, so fucking hard. He wants to strip down so he can sink into your cunt and fuck you until you are screaming his name for your entire realm to hear. “Thirsty.” He reaches for the pitcher of wine to pour himself so more, trying to keep his eyes off your breasts.

You smirk, leaning closer and you set your fan down before you cross your arms to rest them on the table. “Drink as much as you want, General. We have plenty.” You see how his chest heaves, the sweat on his brow, “you need more, don’t you?” You guess, knowing how the fruit can take effect.

“Yes.” He croaks out, pouring a large goblet full of wine and starting to down it like a man dying of thirst. “More.” He gasps when he drains the cup and still his body is on fire. His cock is throbbing and he shudders as he shifts in his seat as the fabric of his tunic brushes over the sensitive skin.

You watch how he shudders, “you can touch yourself. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. It’s our secret.” You wink and cup your breast, “I’m overheated too.” You murmur, moaning softly as you pinch your nipple.

“What the fuck is happening to me?” He groans quietly, swallowing as you palm your tit and moan yourself. “What did you poison me with?” He accuses, glaring at you and clenching his hand into a fist.

You giggle, “it’s not poison. It’s the fruit. It has…lusty effects. You are hard, no?” You ask and he nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You need release. You will not be comfortable until you touch yourself, General.” You slide your hand up until you’re palming both tits. “You need to cum. That’s the only way to stop this feeling.”

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes and hisses softly as he tries to control himself. “You- you planned this?” He asks breathlessly. “You ate the fruit as well.”

“I did, but I have a tolerance to it. We eat this regularly.” You are a little heated but not overwhelmed like he is. “You need to touch yourself. You will not feel better until you do. You’ve eaten a lot. You will die if you do not touch yourself. Your heart will only take so much.” You reveal with a smirk and chuckle when his eyes widen.

This has to be some kind of trick. To make him embarrass himself. He shakes his head. “If I die, your kingdom will be razed to the ground.” He reminds you. “You would not put your people in danger.”

You smirk as you stand, letting your robes fully drop from your body, and you step out of the pile gathered at your feet, “your army was given a generous sample of fruit. I’m certain they will be fucking each other senseless by now while my men remove their weapons from under their noses.” You giggle, swaying your hips as you make your way over to the bed behind the silks, eager to touch yourself after having the fruit. You’re still affected somewhat by its power.

“Gods be damned.” You have effectively crippled his army. He knows that if they are half as afflicted by this fruit as he is, they will be balls deep in each other and every available whore in the camp. A veritable orgy. Marcus can barely see you behind the silk and he grips the edge of the chair before he stands, giving into his need to see what you are doing. To see your body again.

You moan as you lay down on the bed, stretching out, and your hands slide along your body, unashamed of your form, and you look up when you see Marcus slide past your silks. "Like what you see, General?" You tease, squeezing your breast.

His breath is ragged, panted out as he struggles for control. “How- how long will this last?” He groans, cock twitching and bobbing heavily under his tunic. He still doesn’t touch himself, but he watches you.

"Depends. If you refuse to pleasure yourself, it will be a slow death. If you find pleasure, it will leave your system in hours." You hum, pinching your nipple and you are soaking wet as you trail your eyes down to the tent in his tunic.

Marcus grapples with the issue at hand. He could not believe you, but why would you lie? You are lying naked on a bed, touching yourself. He groans as you press your thighs together and then spread them to let him see your curls wet with arousal. “Fuck.” He swallows harshly as reaches for the ties of his armor.

You watch him as he starts to strip his armor. He's so broad and it's not just the armor that fills him out. He's strong and although his stomach is softer than younger soldiers, he has your folds dripping wet as you watch him expose his body inch by inch. "Touch you. I want to watch you touch yourself." You demand, adding a moan when your fingers slide through your folds.

He raises his chin defiantly, but he knows that he needs to touch himself. His cock is dripping onto the floor and he hisses as he watches you revel in the pleasure of your own touch. Spitting into his hand and reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock with a relieved groan at just that simple touch.

You watch him with lust filled eyes. You never intended to touch yourself, you wanted to watch him fall apart before you, but he has intrigued you. You slide your fingers up to rub your clit, "you are magnificent, General."

He just holds his cock in his hand, squeezing it to relieve the pressure. “You are perfect.” He counters. “Wars would be waged over your beauty, your hand being battled for to the death.”

You hum, pleased by his reaction, and you pull your hand away from your cunt, shifting onto your knees to get a little closer to him. "would you fight for me, General?" You ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Yes.” He breathes the admission out without a second’s thought. Groaning as his cock twitching in his and he rocks his hips forward just a fraction of an inch, jerking himself into his grip. He wants to bury his tongue in your cunt while he strokes his cock to see if you taste like the fruit you has tricked him into eating.

Pleased with his answer, you grin as you slide your hand down your body until you’re rubbing your clit again. You moan and watch him as he fists his cock, “stroke yourself. I want to watch you take your pleasure.”

It's like he cannot deny you. Marcus throws his head back and hisses quietly as his hand starts to move. Slowly and achingly sliding up and down the length of his cock as he stands with his feet braced apart. Right now your soldiers could come in and strike him down, but he doesn't care. The pleasure from the slow, tight stroke is too much.

​​You watch him, smirking in satisfaction at the way his jaw drops. He looks so blissed out and you haven’t even gotten started. “That’s it, General. Touch yourself. You look so good like this.” You hum, continuing to rub your clit as you kneel on the bed. “Does it feel good?” You coo, shuffling a little closer.

“So good.” His nostrils flare as he pants out breath, losing control over himself as the need consumes him. His eyes are fixed on your bare body and his hips lurch forward into his grip, as if propelled closer to you, but he barely manages to stop from stepping forward. He will not have you accuse him of attacking you. “This- it hurts.” He groans, a spurt of liquid dribbling from the tip of his cock. “And feels so good.”

“I know. I know.” You nod, pouting slightly in sympathy. “It will get better. You need to spill your seed. Can I - I want to touch you.” You declare, shifting a little closer, “can I touch you, General?” You ask, continuing to rub your clit.

Marcus gnashes his teeth together, but it can’t repress the whine that comes out of the back of his throat. He should say no, he would say no if it were for the burning need that is clawing under his skin, humming through his entire body. “I- I am your- your guest.” He pants out. “You can do anything you want.”

You grin, loving his answer, and you shuffle closer, kneeling on the bed after pulling your fingers away from your clit. “You’re so gorgeous.” You murmur. You want him, want to taste him. You lean forward to take the head of his cock into your mouth when he squeezes his cock.

He chokes out your name, unable to believe that a queen has his cock in her mouth. That you are touching him in such a way. His stomach heaves and he’s embarrassed by the next spurt of pre-cum that leaks out, flooding your mouth, although he’s not even close to orgasming yet.

You moan around him, shifting your weight onto one hand to cover his hand with yours, squeezing him at the base as you take him a little deeper into your mouth. The salty taste of pre-cum has you humming around him and you watch his neck clench as he twitches in your grip.

He should pull his hips back. He should redress and go warn his men about eating the fruit, although he knows they most likely already have. The soldiers are always eager for any fresh fruits they can get their hands on, so it would have been readily accepted. He moans and lets go of his cock, reaching for your cheek and his hand is gentle as he caresses it.

You moan around his cock, taking him even deeper, and you love the way his broad chest heaves. Your other hand caresses a scar on his thigh and you watch him as you hollow your cheeks, sucking on his thick length.

It’s been a long time since he’s received this kind of pleasure. He hisses when your tongue presses against the sensitive head. His fingers curling around your jaw and applying the slightest pressure to it to lift your eyes up to him.

You moan around him, loving the dark look on his face as he watches you suck on his cock. Your hand trails along your stomach and down to your pussy, cupping yourself before you start to rub your clit while you bob your head.

Marcus grips the back of your head, growling incoherently. Enjoying the way you touch yourself without apology. If you weren’t sucking his cock, he’s sure this room would be filled with your moan. “Gods.” He hisses, his body sweating and throbbing with need.

You hum around his cock, loving how he twitches in your mouth. You’re dripping wet as you slide your fingers through your folds, and you close your eyes when he rocks his hips, pushing his cock a little deeper.

His body is so tightly wound, so primed, that the next time your throat closes around his shaft, Marcus is cumming. With a shout of pure relief, he starts to spill down your throat in hot ropes.

You swallow him down, humming around his length, and it’s too much that his cum starts to slide down your chin. When he finally stops twitching, you pull off of him with a gasp, trying to catch your breath and you know you look messy with his cum dripping off your chin.

You look gorgeous covered in his seed. Thoroughly debauched and still his hard cock aches for more. His fingers slide through his cum to grip your chin. “Let me fuck you.” He demands roughly. If you say no, he will have to stroke his cock again, the fever still spiking his blood.

You grin, shifting to lay down on the bed. You slide your hand along your chin to gather his cum so you can lick it from your palm. “Come and fuck me, General. Take me how you want.” You demand, spreading your legs to show him how wet you are.

Your cunt is dripping, glistening in the light of the day and the torches on the wall. Even though his cock is twitching to be buried deep, he lunges forward on the bed, kneeling between your thighs and he dives into your folds face first, his fist around his cock and his moans being breathed into your sex.

You cry out, moaning as his tongue slides through your folds. You didn’t expect him to do that and his mouth is wet and hot as he laps at you. “Fuck, General, you are eager.” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his damp hair.

He is eager. It’s been so long since the taste of a woman has been on his tongue that he is ravenous. He doesn’t pull away to answer, simply groaning into your folds as he doubles down on his efforts to make you cry out again.

You moan breathlessly, arching your back slightly as you lift your leg onto his broad, strong shoulder. You’ve had many lovers and no one has been this ravenous when lapping at your cunt. “General. I need - oh gods.” You moan when he sucks on your clit.

He’s not been so long without a woman that he doesn’t remember what drives them crazy. The little nub of flesh that puffs out from between your lips is so sensitive to his attention. He groans when your fingers tug at his hair and makes his scalp burn. His hand around his cock starts to pump his length as he sucks.

You hear him pumping his cock as he sucks on your bundle of nerves, making you throw your head back and fall apart. Your moan turns into a cry as he pushes you over the edge and your thighs tighten around his head.

You are falling apart, squeezing his head between your thighs and soaking his face with your release. Making Marcus groan as he moves down to lap it up eagerly, wanting to see if you taste as sweet as the fruit you tricked him with.

He works you through it and you whimper, tugging on his hair as he laps at you until it’s too much. The fruit has affected you too and you’re desperate for him but you won’t let that show. You drag his face away from your cunt and he groans, shifting onto his knees, your slick shining on his face. He’s pumping his cock as he shuffles closer and you shake your head, reaching down to cup your cunt. “I want you to beg for it.” You smirk, wanting to see him struggle.

He clenches his jaw, his lips firmly pressed together in annoyance that you would deny him now. You had caused him to be in this state by feeding him that fruit and he hates how he wants to beg. It’s on the tip of his tongue but he can’t do it.

You chuckle, keeping your hand in its place. “I can take care of myself, General. I have many times after eating the fruit. Can you? Your jaw is clenched. Your brow is shiny with sweat. Your cock looks like it’s throbbing, dripping with need. You can touch me. Fuck me. Take what you want. All you need to do is beg.” You coo, shifting your leg to slide your foot along his thigh.

He bites his lip, nearly breaking the skin. “Let me fuck you.” He groans, continuing to stroke his cock. “You want me. You want my cock. I see it in your eyes.”

You giggle, sliding your foot across to press against his cock. He groans and twitches under your touch and you press harder. “Not enough to give in so easily. Beg more. I want to hear you whine.” You demand, wanting to hear him.

Marcus hisses in anger but his body betrays him. Hips rocking up to grind against your foot. “You wish to humiliate me?” He growls. “Show your power over me?” He knows that’s what you want, but he is rapidly forgetting why he cares. “Fuck me then.” He compromises. “Ride my cock for your pleasure.” He groans. “Use me.”

Smirking, you slide your foot from his body and shift to kneel. “Lay down.” You order and he growls but follows your demand, laying down beside you. You shift to straddle him, batting his hand away to grip his cock. “You’re impressive, General.” You hum as you lift up and position him at your entrance, keeping your eyes on him as you start to sink down onto his length.

Your cunt is hot and tight around him. Making him groan and his hands bruise your hips with their hard grip. He grits his teeth, the urge to flip you over and hammer into your soft body barely resistible. “Gods.” He hisses out.

​​You pant as he stretches you out. It’s been a long time since you’ve taken a man this thick. “Move.” He demands through gritted teeth, and you chuckle, reaching for the hands on your hips. He reluctantly lets you release his grip and you lift his arms over his head, pushing his wrists into the bed as you start to rock on top of him.

He’s vulnerable like this, you can stick a knife in his ribs before he could react. Right now, he’s not worried about that, occupied by the way your cunt squeezes around his cock as you roll your hips. A queen is fucking him, using him for your pleasure, and he’s groaning while watching your tits bounce in his face so he lunges up to wrap his lips around a nipple.

You moan when he sucks on your nipple, your walls clenching around him, and you close your eyes. He could easily overpower you, he’s strong, but you have him entranced by your cunt. “Oh gods, General. You - you fill me so well.” You compliment him breathlessly as you rock down on his cock.

He hums in agreement, biting down on your nipple and sucking again when you moan in pleasure. You are wanton and sensual, swiveling your hips and grinding down on him as you chase your pleasure. “Touch yourself.” He grunts against your breast. “Cum on my cock.”

You pant, letting go of his wrists and you balance yourself on your palm as you reach down with your free hand to rub your clit. His deep voice has you shaking above him as you use his body for your pleasure. “Fuck. I- I am going to -" You cut yourself off as you fall apart on his cock, clenching down around him.

Marcus groans, his body tensing and he uses the moment to flip you into your back. Growling your name as he plants his knees as starts to fuck you. Needing to feel it again and again, even as your cunt spasms around him. “Fuck.” He hisses. “Cum again.”

Your cry echoes as he fucks you hard. He looks dangerous above you, his eyes black as he pushes into you like a man possessed. Your hands scramble to cling to him, knowing that all you can do is hold on.

You cling to him rather than pushing him away, spurring him on. His hips snapping forward sharply and making your entire body jolt as he drives into you. Groaning in pleasure at the way you yield to him, submitting to his need. He’s close, the fever in his system driving him to thrust harder and harder.

“You can fill me up. I have a tea to make sure I don’t - not with child.” You promise, wrapping your legs around him to push your heels into his ass. “Fuck. You feel so good.” You moan, your whole body bouncing with his thrusts.

Your words tip him over the edge, body going taunt and the vein on the side of his neck bulges as he buries his cock deep. Throbbing as he paints your walls with thick ropes if his sticky seed while he moans your name.

You watch him as he falls apart, filling you up, and you whimper, “you are a force to be reckoned with, General.” You love how hot his seed is as it paints your walls and his cock pulses inside you.

His eyes, closed as he rides out his high, open and focus on you as soon as the last spurt of his seed has been spent. He’s still achingly hard and his need for you burns under his skin. “Not done.” He growls, starting to move again as he lunges towards your lips for a kiss.

Moaning into the kiss, you cup his stubbled cheek and eagerly tangle your tongue with his as he takes control. You rock your hips up, needing more and he gives it to you. Rocking into you a little faster and your pussy squelches around his length as he pushes his seed out.

“You have to need to cum again.” He grunts, pulling away to kiss along your jaw. “Want to hear you cry out again.” He huffs out a reluctant chuckle. “Brave and bold, afflicting yourself with the same need.”

You nod, “yes. Yes. I need it. Give it to me.” You demand, clenching around him and he almost bends you in half to get deeper, achieving his aim as he hits something incredible inside of you. “Fuck. Oh yes. Fuck. Do that again.” You cry out your demand.

Grunting and smirking, Marcus repeats the action again and again, loving how you moan and squeal for him. He feels that you are close to falling apart again, body drawing up and starting to tighten. “Cum.” He orders.

You understand now how so many men would follow him into battle, his voice and his authority is intoxicating. You moan, unable to deny him as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him as you fall apart beneath him.

Marcus growls, loving how you soak his cock as he rocks into you. Fucking you through the orgasm that is making you shake underneath him. “Gods.” He hisses, continuing to hammer into your squelching cunt.

“Fu-uuu-ck.” You moan breaks and continues with each thrust to push you through your pleasure and your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. “Oh my - fill me up, General. Please. Want - I want it.” You demand, needing to see him fall apart above you again.

His teeth snap together harshly, lips curled up as he ruts into you. “Fuck!” He hisses, knowing that he’s close but he continues to fuck you with abandon. His hands are hard on your body as he finally stiffens with a shout that is equal to a war cry, throbbing and spilling inside you again.

You know he’s going to leave bruises but you love it. You moan, caressing his chest as he looms over you, “that’s it. That’s it.” You coo, watching him as he ruts through his ecstasy.

Marcus is panting as he finally stops moving, collapsing on top of you and pinning you to the bed as he tries to catch his breath. “Fuck, fuck.” He breathes out, finally feeling like he can breathe without wanting to fuck.

You hum, smiling against his chest, and you hear his heart pounding. You lower your legs from his hips, feeling your pulse race as you try to catch your breath. “It was a pleasure fighting against you, General Acacius.”

He snorts, shaking his head when he finally lifts his head and looks down at you. Knowing that you have bested him and he is honor bound to admit defeat. “My army will withdraw in two days time.” He tells you. “They will need a day to recover from their…activities.”

You chuckle, caressing his cheek and you lean in to kiss his lips softly. “As I said, it’s been a pleasure, General.” You murmur and kiss his chin. He sighs and pulls out of you, letting you spread out on the silk sheets and smile in bliss. The burning sensation in your belly satiated and your people protected. You’ve done what you set out to do.

**** 

True to his word, the Roman army starts to pull back, packing wagons and animals with supplies and the army, still a little sore from the orgy from days before, begins the long march back to Rome. Marcus states at the walled city, wondering where you might be right now, frowning slightly. Retreat and defeat are foreign concepts, but he was a man of honor. He would take his punishment from the emperors when he returned to the capital.

**** 

You sigh as you set your scroll down, looking out at the expanse of your lands. Prosperous and free since you sent the Roman army packing. Your people are thriving, they love their Queen and you have protected them from invasion. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when your advisor enters, head bowed. “There is a General here to see you.” You frown, “where is he? Take me to him.” You demand and your advisor escorts you to where he is waiting. You know who it is. You often wondered if he’d ever return and you expect he has his army waiting instructions. You enter the room with your head high, “General Acacius. What an unexpected surprise.” You hold your hand out towards him, your stomach twisting with arousal at the broad shouldered soldier standing before you.

It has been four years since he left these lands. Four years of jabs and comments from the emperors. Feigned disappointment and foul treatment of him by the spoiled brats until the people of Rome had turned on them. Disposing them and installing new leadership. Leaving Marcus with a decision to make. “My lady, your highness.” This time he uses your honorific and bows his head. “However, I lied to your advisor.” He admits. “I am no longer General Acacius of Rome.”

You frown, “then who am I speaking with?” You ask, shaking your head when your guards stiffen. “I am simply Marcus Acacius.” You nod in understanding, certain that he’s lost everything because of your deception. “I’m sorry.” You sigh, “I don’t doubt that you’ve had a difficult time from your Emperors.”

“The emperors have been overthrown.” He informs you. “The current emperor has no interest in your lands, your highness. Peace has been offered and I have brought you a promise of that.” He reaches into his tunic and slowly pulls out the scroll when the guards reach for their weapons.

You hold your hand up to get them to stand down before you take the scroll. You unravel it and scan the words, your eyes widening, “they have assured me that our lands are no longer wanted. We will be left alone.” You are shocked and pleased, looking at Marcus, his brown eyes soft as he watches you. You hand the scroll to your advisor just as footsteps echo down the hall. “Mama! Mama!” You hear your son as he runs towards you, arms open as his nanny runs behind him, trying to keep up with him. “Hello my love.” You coo, picking him up, and you cuddle him close.

Marcus watches as a child, a boy of no more than three, hugs you and presses into your body and kisses your cheek. “I missed you, mama.” He pouts, frowning fiercely at you and it makes Marcus’s heart pound in his chest. He knows, without a doubt, this is his child. He had planted his seed in your womb when you had drugged him.

You can tell he knows the truth and you hold your son close. “I really did take a tea. It was never my intention to become with child. With your child.” You promise him, “and I am sorry for any deception. I had to protect my people. You can go. No one will harm you.” You promise, “and I thank you for the news you have brought.”

Marcus might have attacked your realm on orders from his emperors, but he had no ill will towards you or your people. Watching his son look at him curiously and finding that the boy has his eyes and the edges of his ears curl like Marcus’s does makes his choice easy. “I have nothing in Rome to return to.” He tells you. “No wife, no family, no army.” He might add that to make you feel a little guilty. “I had also come to provide you with another guarantee that Rome would never attack you.” He tells you. “I wish to serve you. Help guard your people.” His eyes are on his son but they shift to you. “You have been my only defeat in war - in life.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You never imagined that he’d return alone. Perhaps he’d return with an army to defeat the woman who bested him but he wants to serve you instead. “I- wow. This is - quite a shock. But you are welcome here.” You promise, “you shall have a room in the palace. You will be honored as the father to the next king. You have my word that no one will treat you poorly. I wish to have you here.” You add, knowing that you’ve thought about him every day since the day he left with his army in tow.

Marcus never expected you to agree, to want him close. He nods. “I will serve you faithfully.” He vows, wanting to reach out and touch you. You have been on his mind since he had left, remembering your wit, and your body with a desire to see you again. The senate had known of his unhappiness in Rome and had released him from his commitments to her, knowing he would come back. He had left a piece of himself here, more true than he had realized.

You offer him a smile, “Marcus, this is your father.” You introduce your son for the first time. “He went away but he’s back now.” You explain simply, “and he wants to meet you.” You shift the little boy in your arms whose eyes widen, “papa?” He asks and turns to look at Marcus. He wiggles in your grip and holds his arms out towards his father.

Marcus’s eyes widen, surprised that you had named your son after him. He has not held many children in his life, but he is immediately reaching to take the boy. Amazed at how trusting he is as little arms wind around his neck. “Marcus.” He murmurs, looking the boy over in wonder and holding him close. “That is my name as well.” He tells him. “How old are you, son?”

Your son ducks his head, suddenly shy, until he looks at you and you nod, smiling at him. “Thwee.” He answers, still speaking with a slight lisp as he tries to get his pronunciation of words. “Marcus is your name too?” He asks and Marcus nods, “it is.” You rub your son’s back, “this is your papa.” You remind him and Marcus looks at the older man, “papa.” He grins and cuddles him.

Marcus swallows harshly, choking up slightly at the easy acceptance from his son. “Son.” He hums softly, rubbing the little boy’s back as he glances back at you. “Do you like to play with wooden swords?” He asks, knowing that he had watched young children play like that. “I do.” He pulls back and gives a wide grin that Marcus can’t help but copy. “We will have to play together. I play with wooden swords too.”

Your smile widens when your son nods, “yes, papa.” You rub his back for another moment before you squeeze Marcus’s shoulder. “I’m sure you are tired after your travels. Please, take a room and we will bring you food and you can go to the baths to clean up.” You tell Marcus, who nods, “thank you, your highness.” You tut and shake your head, telling him to call you by your name. Your servants rush around after your words to prepare everything for Marcus.

Soon, Marcus is groaning as he relaxes in a hot bath of fresh water, clean and feeling refreshed. Amazed that he hasn’t been turned away and even more amazed that he has a son. The wine next to the bath has been half drunk, but he hadn’t eaten any of the food that was sitting on the tray. He would rather talk to you first.

You look up when there’s a knock at your door, calling out for them to enter, and you sigh when you see Marcus walk into your quarters. “General.” You tease, standing up as he walks towards you in a tunic, looking fresh after his long journey. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, stepping towards him.

“I wanted to talk to you.” Marcus shifts slightly, eyes roaming over you as you look up from something you were reading. “I - Marcus-“ he falters slightly. “Will I have a role in the boy’s life? Help train him, or would you prefer that not happen?”

You nod, “you’ll be his father if you wish to be. I have no desire to keep him from you or not let him know his father. We are not Rome, we are not Roman. We do not cast aside our people because of marriage or birth. Our son will be the next ruler of these lands and I wish for him to be skilled in fighting, in tactics. Together, I believe we can raise a fine King for my people.” You offer Marcus a smile, “and I want you to be there for every moment. I’m sorry you’ve missed so much. I truly did not intend to become with child after our coupling and I took the tea but our son…he’s stubborn. I did not know where to send word about his birth. I didn’t want the news to get into the wrong hands.” You explain, hoping he understands.

Marcus nods, understanding even if it was disappointing. “Have you taken an uxor?” He asks softly. “I must confess that I have thought about that day, about you, every day since I left in defeat.” He knows you could laugh, or send him away, but he needs to be honest with you, you have been honest with him.

You smile, reaching up to cup his cheek, “I have not taken an uxor since the man I imagined being my uxor left with his army to return to Rome.” You confess, caressing his cheek. “I know we barely know each other. How could I possibly love a man I don’t know? Yet I do. I know you must be angry with me for my deception but I want you if you will have me.”

“It was war.” He reminds you. “Deception is called for, and expected. It also kept more bloodshed from happening.” He covers your hand with his own. “Are you sure you would like a former Roman general as your lover? Surely men must vie for your hand.”

You scoff, sliding your free hand to his chest, “the men of my lands might vie for my hand but too many of them are eager for power. They wish to become king, take power from a ‘feeble woman’. You are here to serve, not to conquer me. You would not just be my lover, you’d be my companion, my confidant, my advisor.” You promise, “I want someone to support me as I lead our people. I want a partner.”

Marcus thinks on your words before he nods. “I have no allegiance to Rome any more.” He promises you. “My allegiance will be to you, my queen, and my son, my future King.” He steps closer to you. “Perhaps I can help train your army, but I will perform any role you wish me to have.”

You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, “you might be able to teach my men a thing or two about battling the Romans.” You smirk and lean in to press a soft kiss to his chin. Marcus grabs your waist and tilts your head to press his lips to yours. You moan into his mouth, loving the way he pulls you close and you realize the electricity between you wasn’t just the fruit.

Marcus groans quietly and deepens the kiss, you closer to him and feeling his body starting to react to your nearness. It’s not because of the fruit, it’s because of you.

You whimper when his hands slide down to squeeze your ass, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you moan, letting him walk you backwards until you’re pressing against the wall. “I need you Marc.” You plead when his mouth presses against your jaw, “now. Fuck me.”

He hums, breaking away from your lips to kiss down your jaw. “Yes, your highness.” He teases. “I am but your humble servant. This time it’s not because of the fruit that I need to fuck you though.”

It's like a fire is ignited as you fumble to tug his tunic up, wrapping your fingers around his hardening cock to pump him while he bunches your dress up your body to gather at your waist. "Definitely not the fruit." You murmur when he kisses your neck, panting into your skin when you squeeze him, "all because of you, General. My General. My - my love."

Marcus moans your name, accepting now that the fever he feels right now is just because of his feelings for you. His fingers slip under your dress and he finds you already wet. “Have you been thinking about this since I arrived?” He teases as he starts to slowly rub your clit.

You nod, “yes.” Your response is breathless and you whimper his name as he teases you while you pump his cock. “I imagined you taking me while I was sitting at my table, reading my scrolls. Imagined you bending me over and claiming me again and again.”

Marcus growls as he bites down on the juncture of your shoulder. “I imagined fucking you while I was riding my horse on the way to Rome. Seated on my cock while the horse moves. In my bed while I was in Rome.”

“Yes. Yes. I’m yours.” You promise, “please just - I need you inside me.” You whine and he nods, reluctantly pulling his fingers from your clit and he bats your hand away so he can lift your thigh and position himself at your entrance. “Please.” You whimper which transitions into a moan when he starts to push into you.

It’s rough, sex against a wall is far less than a queen deserves, but you seem to love it. Kissing along his neck and moaning into his skin as he fills you up. “Fuck.” He pants, pressing you harshly into the wall. “You are so fucking tight around my cock. Never would have known you had our son.”

You gasp when he pushes into you, his fingers finding your other thigh to lift it so your weight is fully pressed into the wall. "You're so big, amor. So strong. My lover." You moan, wrapping your legs around him as he squeezes your flesh.

He chuckles and starts to move inside you. “A lifetime of battle and blood.” He pants, loving the way you are squeezing his cock. You are so responsive to him.

You caress his chest, kissing his jaw, “and you have a new cause to fight for. I want - I want our son to be as strong as you. I want him to be a great leader like his father.” You murmur, sliding your hands along his shoulders, admiring how broad he is

Marcus groans, moving slowly, showcasing his strength as he rocks into you while keeping you pressed against the wall. “You will teach him politics, I will teach him to fight.”

“He will be a force to be reckoned with.” You gasp when he adjusts you and the angle has him pushing against something delicious inside you. “Fuck, this feels just as good as the first time.”

He can only groan in agreement, kissing you again as he tries to continue to hit that angle again. Loving how your walls clench around him and milk his cock. The magic of the pleasure between you hadn’t been a fluke or because of the fruit. He’s just as desperate for you to cum for him now.

You whimper as he pushes you higher up the wall with each thrust and you slide back down as he pulls back. "You are going to - I'm - oh. Oh. OH!" Your cry echoes across the vast room and you clamp down on his cock, crying out his name as you fall apart for him.

He growls in pleasure when you soak him, your juices dripping down his cock and onto his thighs. “That’s it,” he grunts harshly. “Cum for me. Shake apart for me.”

His cock continues pushing into you and you can't do anything but cling to him, watching as he clenches his jaw. You want to feel him again, no matter the consequences, you need to feel him fill you up. "Cum for me, General. My General." You coo, leaning in to kiss and nip at his jaw.

Closing his eyes, he buries himself deep. Groaning your name in a whimper as he floods your womb with his seed. Coming home to you physically and spiritually. He had come to conquer your lands on behalf of Rome but had been defeated, leaving behind his heart when he left. Only to find that he has a place here, with you and the son you created together. All of this was brought about by the fruits of passion.

[vixonspixels]

Default Barista Outfit

This will override every barista's uniform that spawns into your game, for the longest time I have hated the swatches on this so I'm glad I finally took some time to make it more aesthetically pleasing

Only available in one swatch ( may add more at a later date )

Male and female outfit both available

Available for free over on my patreon page here

[monzabee]

pon de replay - cl16 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 

Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.

So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.

It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.

“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.

“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.

“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”

If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”

Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.

He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”

That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.

“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.

Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.

“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.

So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”

His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”

If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.

And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”

This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.

“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”

“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.

And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”

Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”

“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”

“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”

And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.

So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”

You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.

“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.

He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”

“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”

“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.

Or so you’ve thought.

Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”

“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”

You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”

That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.

“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   

“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.

“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.

So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”

“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”

“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”

“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.

That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”

And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.

[cyazurai]

Medieval Name Default Replacement Mod

Updated to be compatible with Kuttoe's Townie Demographics mod on March 8th, 2025 Released on September 22nd, 2024

Sul sul, and hail, my fellow medieval gameplay enjoyers! Have you grown tired of scouring the internet for names appropriate for Ultimate Decades Challenge, or the History Challenge, or any other gameplay that includes a medieval time period? Because I sure did, and that's why I got the idea to create this mod for those of us who want to just leave it up to the game to name our sims. And now, I'm so so excited to present it to you now!

If you don't want to read about the mod and just want to skip straight to downloading it, scroll to the very bottom of this post (under the "keep reading")! But if you want to know, I have written up a bit about the mod below.

How does it work?

It's very simple. You download the mod, and put it into your mods folder. Once the mod is in your folder, load up the game. In both CAS, and randomly generated townies, the available names will only be selected from a pool of medieval names.

When in CAS, if you use the die to randomize a name, it will only give you medieval names, like so:

When a townie is randomly generated in town, they will no longer have modern names, like so:

When your sim gives birth to a baby, the random name options will all be appropriately medieval, like so:

Is it compatible only with English?

It should be compatible with every language the game can be installed in, because I made the language "Global," and Miss Chipsa confirmed for me that it worked on a Russian-installed game!

Any details on the names you can provide us?

Well, it would be far too long of a list for me to tell you all of the names, but here are the details I can share - (under the cut)

a little over 3500 female names

a little over 7200 male names

a little over 13,400 surnames/bynames

the date range that these names should be appropriate for is between 800 and 1500, because that is the range that I pulled names from

Indian names replaced by medieval German

Islander names replaced by medieval Dutch

Japanese names replaced by medieval French

Moroccan names replaced by medieval Scottish/Irish

Latin names replaced by medieval Spanish/Portuguese

Native American names replaced by medieval Lithuanian, Latvian, Hungarian, Russian, and Romanian (I wanted to add all of these languages separately but ran out of categories)

Southest Asian names replaced by medieval Italian

a little over 1400 pet names (cats, dogs, and horses)

in the future, I intend to add names for the farm animals as well

Where did you get your names?

All human names in this mod have been sourced from this website: HERE.

Any other details I should know?

base game compatible, but it might be a little glitchy if your game isn't up-to-date.

you may only have one name replacement mod in your game at a time

this mod is subject to change as I find more names, so check back occasionally to see if the version is new!

if you have any questions or suggestions for names, feel free to message me

works for every age

will not replace the names of sims that have already been created

DOWNLOADS

SimFileShare // MediaFire // Patreon

Like my CC? Consider buying me a coffee! 💜

@mmfinds @ts4medieval @alwaysfreecc