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esouliie · 1 month

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… you should stay in my good graces⋆𐙚₊

(actress!wanda x fem!reader)

tags | romantic asf, a little hurt/comfort, wanda maximoff needs a hug, reader is a reassuring simp, together? they’re both gross horny freaks :3 (18+)

It’s late, around 9 PM, and the room is dimly lit, casting long shadows that dance along the walls. You’re lounging on the couch of the hotel suite, feeling the gentle buzz of the wine you’ve been sipping. She’s there with you, still dressed in her suit for her upcoming movie’s press junket. Her hair, now a shade of molten chocolate, falls loosely around her face, with random pieces tucked behind her ears. She’s wearing minimal makeup, despite her lips being coated in a subtle reddish oil, and her eyes shimmer gold with every bat of her lashes.

The evening has been easygoing since arriving back, a perfect blend of quiet conversation and shared silences as your girlfriend winds down from being social. You watch her as she took another sip of her wine, her eyes glinting in the soft light. Suddenly, she sets her glass down and rises from the couch with a playful glint in her eye. "I want to play a song for you," she announces with a smile.

You watch as she heads for the old record player tucked in the corner, a vintage piece that had caught her eye the moment you checked in last night. The suite modern charm was evident in every detail, from the heated floors to the spacious kitchen, but the record player, with its polished wood and brass accents, seemed to be the centerpiece of the room. Wanda had been drawn to it immediately, her fingers tracing the smooth surface, a look of nostalgia softening her features.

She flips through the small collection of vinyl records stacked beside it, her brow furrowing in concentration as she searches for the perfect track. After a moment, she lets out a triumphant little sound, pulling out a record with an old, faded cover. The worn label reveals the artist: Sam Cooke. She handles it with reverence, lowering it onto the turntable with a practiced hand. There's a small, satisfied hum as she brings the needle down, and the soft crackle that follows fills the room like the first breath of life. For a moment, everything is still, suspended in the quiet, until the first sweet, soulful notes of "Cupid" drift into the air.

The melody is timeless, a rich cascade of sound that wraps around you like an old, familiar blanket. You recognise the tune, though it's been years since you last heard it. The notes are tender and full of emotion, evoking memories of a time long past yet strangely present in this moment. The room, bathed in the warm glow of the lamps adorned around the space, seems to swell with the sound, the music curling around the furniture, the walls, and finally, the two of you, as if drawing you closer together.

Wanda turns back to you, her eyes bright with anticipation, waiting for your reaction. She knows you love this song, and she loves it too, perhaps even more.

“I love this song.” She reaches out a hand, gesturing for you to join her. You stand, taking it without hesitation, feeling the warmth of her fingers intertwining with yours. The music flows between you like a current, and Wanda begins to sway, drawing you into the rhythm. Her voice, soft and unguarded, rises to meet the melody as she sings along with Cooke:

“Cupid, draw back your bow...”

With her eyes locked on yours, the world around you fades into the background. The record spins, the music lilting through the room as you both begin to dance, a slow, easy movement that feels as natural as breathing.

You follow her lead, letting the song guide your steps. Wanda’s voice, sweet and slightly off-key, weaves through the music, adding her own touch to the tune. There's something so intimate, so pure in the way she sings to you, for you, her voice a quiet confession wrapped in melody.

“You know," she murmurs, her voice a soft whisper against the instruments, "I've never felt like this with anyone before."

"I feel the same, Wands. Every time I'm with you, it's like the world finally makes sense."

She tilts her head down slightly, her eyes searching yours. "Do you ever wonder if this is too good to be true? Like, maybe we're dreaming, and one day we'll wake up, and it’ll all be gone?"

You stop swaying for a moment, cupping her face gently in your hands. "No, Wanda. This is real. We’re real." You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, feeling her relax into your touch, “You’re never getting rid of me, baby.”

Her hands move to your back, pulling you closer, as if she needs to feel you, to confirm that you’re really here. "Promise me," she whispers, her voice trembling just slightly.

You press your lips to hers again, a gentle, lingering kiss that holds all the promises you can’t yet put into words. “I promise,” you whisper against her, “let me show you.”

Her worries melt away, replaced by a deepening trust as your hands run through her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. The pressure of your lips increases, growing bolder as you feel her responding to you, her own lips parting slightly, inviting you to explore further. A soft sigh escapes her, and it echoes in the stillness around you, a sound that sends a shiver of warmth through your entire body.

The kiss grows, building from that initial, tender connection into something more passionate, more urgent. You can feel the tension in your chest, a yearning that rises and swells with every heartbeat, driving you to close any remaining distance between you. Your other hand slides to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Unable to feel the heat of her body through the thick suit jacket, your hands trail inside the material, mapping the thin waist of the taller woman.

She’s wearing nothing underneath.

You deepen the kiss further, your tongue brushing against her lower lip, seeking entrance, a silent request that she grants as her lips part further, allowing you in. Her hands find their way to your shoulders, gripping lightly as she leans in. The kiss is no longer just gentle; it’s filled with a fervent need, an unspoken desire that’s been building between you since the beginning of the night. Since you first saw her in this outfit. She’s kissing you back with equal intensity, every movements matching yours, the both of you lost in this moment, hands groping all and everything you can.

“I want these off,” Wanda husks, pupils blown entirely, as she hurriedly pulls at the zip of your jeans, “… now.”

You don’t bother helping the older woman, as you fling your arms around her to pull the jacket off her toned shoulders, a swift competition to see who can undress who first. You managed to discard the jacket before she can shove her hand down your pants, your fingers already groping at her chest. Your lips making their way down from her neck down to her breasts, lapping at the pebbled nipples before you.

With her hand finally between your legs, stroking ever so languidly, she guides you back towards the couch. You’re too distracted to notice the change until you’re on your back and she’s on top of you. Her tongue forces its way into your mouth before you could protest, hips doing most of the work appeasing you, as she thrusts ever so slowly. Giving up, your legs fall open, calves wrapping around the brunette as if to keep her flush against you.

The kiss comes to an end, much to your dismay, with a singular strand of saliva hanging between you both.

“You’re such a brat. You joke, hands smoothing over her ass, pulling forward.

“Says the one who was racing to undress me first.” She immediately retorts, and you push your luck, retaliating by smacking her ass. She gasps before cutting you a sharp look. Grinding harder against you, her head bends to kiss along your pulse. Her canines sink into the soft skin, a sharp sting following closely before her warm tongue laps along the bruised skin.

“Do that again and I won’t fuck you.”

Your mouth opens a few times, but you weren't sure what to say. You only managed a please, which felt pathetic even to your own ears. The laughing quirk of her lips revealed how little Wanda takes you seriously, and why would she? You were already trembling, unable to form a single thought.

So easy.

Turning your head so she could press her lips against yours, she was licking into your mouth, just separating enough so you didn't suffocate, and even then, it did nothing to help the threads of spit remaining between you both.

But it didn't appear that she was going to stop anytime soon, as her fingers trail up your thigh until she reaches your underwear. Her lips twist into a smile at the feeling of the damp fabric, molding to you. Lithe digits sneak inside, spreading your lips, grazing just under your clit and then down low. “This all for me, baby?”

The feeling so overwhelming, you’re unable to reply. Wanda merely laughs before pressing into you, revelling in how easily you swallowed her fingers, hips moving in time with her. The rooms fills with sounds of breathless moans and her fingers fucking you, her other hand snaked under your top to pinch at your nipples.

“Feels so good.” You manage to stutter out, and bring her down to your lips. Once again, locked in another fervent kiss, moans spilling into her mouth.

A knock on the door jolts you out of your reverie, lips smacking as you pull away, eyes drawn towards the source. Panic surges in your chest as you remember earlier Wanda had invited some of her cast mates to your suite for a games night. Helplessly, you attempt to get your girlfriend to stop, your hand curling around her wrist pumping into you, but she didn’t. Instead, she speeds up, fingers now sliding in at a bruising pace in comparison to her earlier slower one. Your knees were trembling, cunt pulsing around her rigid knuckles, as her thumb circles your clit desperately.

“Gotta be quick, baby,” She huffs, energy depleting with each thrust, whispering terms of endearment as you convulsed, muffling your sounds of pleasure into her neck. Her chest heaves, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on her skin as she hovers over you.

You couldn't help the way your body shudders, so sensitive, every nerve ending screaming for her to stop and yet for her to continue. Trembling a little less now, her fingers slip out of you cautiously, soothing along your flushed skin despite being coated in you. She studies the room accessing the damage before turning back towards you, noticing you’re already looking up at her, the buzz of your orgasm fading away slightly.

To be honest, you didn’t want games night to happen.

You wanted to spend the rest of your night wrapped up in your girlfriend’s arms, listening to her steady heartbeat as she held you close. But you knew Wanda was shy, and in this industry, she struggled to make friends. It was a hard world to navigate, full of people who wanted something from her or who couldn’t look past her fame to see the wonderful person she was beneath it all. You didn’t want to get in the way of that, all because you were feeling needy and wanting her sole attention. It was her night. Wanda deserved to have friends, people she could laugh with, people who would remind her that not everyone wanted something from her. So, despite the ache in your chest, you pushed your feelings aside, biting down on your lip, trying to suppress the soft whimper that threatens to escape, but she notices.

She always notices.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she coos, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, and then your cheek, and then your nose. Her lips were warm, comforting, grounding you back to the present. “You did so well, sweetheart.” She leans down placing one last kiss – this time upon your lips, “You know I love you, right?”

You nod, a shy smile curling at the corner of your mouth. “I love you too.”

“Good,” she hums softly, her voice carrying a note of finality. “Now, come on,” her hand behind your back guiding you to your feet, “help me tidy up?”

You groan playfully, your muscles protesting as you try to follow her lead. You wobble when you stand, a reminder of just how thoroughly she’d loved you, and she chuckles, steadying you with a hand on your waist

“Easy there.” She teases, holding tight to your waist. You feel her breath tickle the top of your head, and then, with a gentleness that contrasts the intensity of earlier, she places a chaste kiss upon your tousled hair, before collecting her jacket and buttoning it up around herself like before.

"Oh, Tony’s gonna have a field day when he sees you," she murmurs, the amusement in her voice impossible to miss. You can almost picture it now—Tony’s raised eyebrows, the sly grin that would stretch across his face when he spots the two of you looking disheveled as ever, and the sex joke already bursting free from his smart ass mouth.

“Whatever, Maximoff.” You push her away and in the direction of the door, “go let them in.”

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x y/n

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slut4hee · 29 days

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Never Have I Ever, Fell In Love With A Psycho | S.JY Teaser

{Paring: Ghostface Jake x Blk Cheerleader Fem! Reader

Release date: Tba

{Synopsis: You are the Star Cheerleader of Woodsboro University, Highly favored by your professors and well loved by your peers. You’re known for being a kind hearted soul, who volunteers to help host the charity events at your school and playing your role as the notorious team captain of the cheer squad. So what could you have possibly done to become Ghostface’s target?

{Genre: smut, serial killer themes, angst, Jake is batshit crazy, college au, 18+ so (mdni).

{Warnings: explicit scenes, rough sex, oral (m&r receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, cum eating, knife play, dirty talk, fingering, pet names, mentions of murder, possessive behavior, obsession (Jake), stalking, character death (not reader or Jake), Jealousy, one sided love at first (Jake), profanities, kidnapping.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Your heart pounds out of your chest rapidly as tears and your now ruined eyeliner runs down your face. You sprint through the hallways of the school running for dear life, hoping and praying that whatever fucked up nightmare this was you will wake up from it soon. You can hear their eerie dark voice and evil menacing laugh behind you causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up.

Your vision is blurred from the tears that won’t stop falling from your eyelids, fear consumes you whole as you hear the footsteps getting closer and closer to you. Your breathing is ragged, your heart feels like it’s gonna explode any minute from the adrenaline that’s rushing through your veins.

They’re hot on your tail, you can hear them everywhere around you, from behind you, and in your head completely taking over your brain cells. Finally barging into a empty classroom you lock the door shut.

You spot a storage closet making your way into it, you place your hand over your mouth trying to ground yourself from making any noise while trying to control your breathing. You hear what sounds like the sound of metal dragging against the wall piercing through your eardrums.

The waterworks continues as you try to calm yourself down, fighting the urge to scream out loud because you’re so damn terrified. Your heart sinks to your stomach when you hear the door to the classroom slam open.

You hear footsteps walking slowly across the perfectly polished vinyl floors. A knife can be heard being slowly dragged against the desk causing a horrible sound to echo throughout the classroom causing your breath to hitch.

Your eyes go wide when you realize you given yourself away and you pray to god you wake up from this shitty nightmare as soon as possible. The footsteps grow closer to the storage closet as you peak out the little opening of the closet door.

A figure can be seen wearing a black hooded robe, a white skull like mask, and black gloves. You’re full on going into a state of panic when you recognize the masked person from the news and pictures and posters that’s been posted all around campus.

You heard the masked killer goes by Ghostface and he’s known for being a very heartless brutal serial killer. he’s killed 20 people so far and your heart sinks knowing you will mark the 21st person he murders if he was to kill you.

Just as you are processing the information in your head the door to the closet door swings open and you’re met with none other then Ghostface himself. Your heart feels like it’s not beating anymore as time seems to stop.

You don’t move a muscle, completely frozen and paralyzed from the fear and anxiety that’s coursing through your veins. The masked person slightly tilts their head to the side almost like they’re studying your every move.

Finally building up enough strength to speak you decide to do what anyone would do in this situation, beg for their life to spared.

“P-Please don’t kill me, I haven’t done anything wrong to you please I don’t want to die I’ll do anything you want just please don’t murder me” you plead from the bottom of your heart, hoping Ghostface will let you go. The masked figure doesn’t say a word but just stares at you. His breathing coming in steady and calm causing a gut wrenching chill to run down your spine.

suddenly the masked figure starts to chuckle lowly almost mockingly as they bring the cold metal knife to your chin gently lifting your face being careful to not cut through your pretty brown skin and finally they speak.

“Oh Y/n baby, how could you think so little of me? You think I would hurt the most precious thing I hold dearly to me? Do you think I would harm you my darling love, I’m so disappointed in you my love I thought you would’ve known better” the masked figure leans closer to your face, you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear.

“You mean the world to me my sweet baby, I could never harm you I will kill myself before I lay a finger on you my dear” they hum reassuringly, tucking one of your braids behind your ear.

“W-Who are you! I-I don’t even know who you are how could you possibly be in love with me” you managed to blurt out despite of being scared for your life. Your eyes widened when the masked figure slowly removes their mask, revealing none other than Jake Sim, the top student in your physics class, the guy who never really speaks to anyone, the guy who sits in the back distant from everyone, the guy who nobody would have thought would be committing these horrible murders.

“What’s wrong baby girl? Surprised to see me” Jake smirks at you with an evil unhinged smile, the fear consumes you still, but the flutter in your stomach and the way your heart skips a beat has you questioning your sanity and now you find yourself asking yourself are you just as insane as him?

To be continued…

A/n: eeeee I’m so excited to write this story, I’m so down bad for Ghostface Jake so I know I’m gonna be creaming nonstop while writhing this 😭 but guys I hope you enjoy the teaser because i literally suck at writing them. Please feel free to reblog, share, comment, and like muah 💋.

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allgrind · 2 years

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The Best Garage Flooring Option in Melbourne

Due to heavy vehicle movements, Garage Flooring is commonly subjected to high pressure. The floors easily become stained, making the entire environment appear unattractive. Garage flooring planning is just as important as home flooring planning. You can use your garage as an extra room in your house. Not all flooring options on the market are appropriate for garages. Let’s check the most suitable options.

1. Polished Concrete Flooring:

For garages, polished concrete flooring is the best option. Concrete flooring is generally tough and durable. They can withstand high pressure without deterioration. Concrete floors are less expensive and more easily accessible to customers on a tight budget. Also, polished concrete finishes are stain-resistant and easy to clean, making them an excellent choice for garages.

2. Epoxy Flooring:

Epoxy flooring is a reasonable solution for replacing existing flooring. Epoxy is a tough, long-lasting coating that can be applied to any type of flooring. It can be used on concrete, stone, or any other floor to improve the performance and durability of your garage floor. Epoxy flooring comes in a variety of appealing colors and is simple to clean. It is not suitable for vapor floors.

3. Vinyl Flooring:

Choosing vinyl flooring for garages is not a bad idea. If your garage does not see a lot of traffic or pressure, enhanced foam-coated vinyl tile flooring is the best option. These tiles are both adaptable and comfortable. You can give your garage a one-of-a-kind appearance by selecting from the market's various color shades and appealing vinyl composite tile flooring.

#GarageFloors #flooring #vinyl flooring #concrete floor finishes #polished concrete Melbourne #concretegrindingmelbourne #polishedconcretefloorsmelbourne

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eeeeuuughggg · 11 months

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sal fisher hcs

note: i hope u enjoy this madi

sal almost always smells like zaza and cologne. actually no he probably uses the bubblegum hello kitty perfume. it just smells so yummy to him he doesn't like 'proper' dates that much tbh. he wouldnt wanna go to a restaurant bcs of his prosthetic - so it's probably you guys at home in a pillow fort watching final destination.

he definitely goes to music shops and spends hours there. he'll spend a good 2 hours or so looking through what vinyls they have, maybe looking for CDs, too.

whenever they have the newest sanity's fall album in stock, he buys it straight away. he loooves that shit. (don't blame him, me too.)

sal brings a small digital camera with him everywhere; he takes pictures of interesting things he finds, memories, ghost stuff, evidence/findings, whatnot.

he paints his nails a lot. mainly black, but sometimes he goes for a bit more colour. (red, blue, that's.. kind of it.) he's constantly redoing them because he chips off the nail polish absentmindedly or when he's bored.

he sleeps weird. he falls asleep on the couch and wakes up facedown in the bathtub. he's definitely one of those people who falls asleep and then wakes up on the other end of the bed or on the floor.

his spotify playlists r so fucking long. like 30h minimum at most. there's no such thing as a playlist that's too long, wdym?

he fucking loves nintendo games. he knows all the secret power up and hidden locations in the mario games.

not too happy w this one cus its short af and feels kinda fanon but eeeehhhhh i hope u enjoy this @ihateyouz!!

remember to reblog to support creators :)

#sallyface #sally face #sal fisher #sallyface headcanons #sally face headcanons #sal fisher headcanons #sallyface hcs #sally face hcs #sal fisher hcs #headcanons #hcs #sallyface x reader #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader

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springcleaningservices · 1 year

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ENHANCING SAFETY WITH SLIP-RESISTANT FLOOR POLISHING

Things To Know About Slip-Resistant Floor Polishing –

What is slip-resistant polishing?

You must take steps to make the surface of the current floor rough in order to make it non-slip. This can be accomplished by polishing a floor that is slip-resistant, which can lower the likelihood of slipping on the surface. The coefficient of friction (COF), a measurement for measuring how slick the floors are, is used to describe this property.

Things which lead to floor slipperiness –

Our operations can occasionally make the floors more slick. You need be very careful about a few things while utilising tiles in the bathroom, kitchen or room flooring, regardless of the type. Use a different mop from the one you used to clean the floor initially.

Things to remember while cleaning the floor –

You must exercise caution when cleaning the flooring. And in that situation, you ought to pay attention to his actions if you hired specialists to handle the cleaning. While cleaning the floors, there are a number of factors to take into account:

Utilise cleaning supplies of high calibre that can thoroughly clean floors without leaving any residue behind.

Make use of high-quality cleaning tools that can effectively clean floors without leaving any trace.

Use a dry mop once more to clean the floor thereafter so that it dries fast.

Try to maintain the floors as dry as possible and avoid leaving the floor wet for an extended period of time.

You should be extremely cautious when cleaning any locations where the floors have damage since you risk tripping over them.

Read More: ENHANCING SAFETY WITH SLIP-RESISTANT FLOOR POLISHING

#vinyl floor polishing

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dryfastcleaning · 1 year

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Hard Floor/Vinyl Floor Polishing in Auckland offers Dry Fast Cleaning.

Are you planning to give the work over to your business or residential floors to achieve a top finish and fine aesthetics? We at DryFast are pioneers in providing comprehensive cleaning services for vinyl and other flooring surfaces. We will help your floors to achieve the highest quality of glossy finish that is eyeball grabbing. Dry Fast Cleaning is an all-in-one cleaning services provider in Auckland, that offers best class Hard Floor/Vinyl Floor Polishing in Auckland (New Zealand). For more info. visit now: www.dryfast.co.nz/service/hard-floor-vinyl-floor-polishing

#auckland #dryfast #new zealand #cleaning services #floor cleaning #floor polishing #vinyl floor polishing #hard floor cleaning #outdoor cleaning #indoor cleaning

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queenshelby · 9 months

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MINI SERIES: THE SLAVE

PART THREE OF THE DARK & SEXY SERIES

NOTE: This is a series of one shots and mini series for Cillian Murphy & Tommy Shelby in which he acts totally off-canon. Most of these shots are very dark in nature and you should read their individual warnings. All of these shots are requests from readers. Co-written with @darkshelbyfiction! ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18. MINORS DNI.

PAIRING: TOMMY SHELBY X VIRGIN READER

WARNING: NON-CONSENSUAL LOSS OF VIRGINITY, CAPTURED READER, SLAVE READER, TOMMY GETTING OFF ON PAIN

NOTE: AGAIN THIS WAS A REQUEST AND I FELT A LITTLE UNCOMFORTABLE PUBLISHING IT...VERY DARK!

It had been two days since you were brought to Birmingham from your home country after promises of prosperity and wealth.

But the cost for this was higher than you ever imagined when you were sold, by your very own father, as property to the highest bidder.

Now you had arrived at Thomas Shelby's estate, which stood majestically against the backdrop of lush greenery and manicured gardens. The mansion, built centuries ago, seemed to command the landscape around it, much like how its owner commanded people within it.

A maid named Nadia greeted you at the entrance, leading you up the grand staircase that spiraled upwards into a series of breathtaking domed ceilings and magnificent chandeliers. Each room presented an extravagant spectacle of artistry and craftsmanship; it was as if every corner had been meticulously designed to overwhelm even the most jaded observer.

Despite the opulence surrounding you, something felt unsettling about the silence that enveloped the house. As far as you could tell, there was no one else here except the maids and yourself. This was not just a house, but a fortress - an impregnable bastion constructed on foundations of isolation and distance.

"This way," intoned the maid, gesturing down a long hallway lined with oil paintings depicting scenes of aristocratic splendor. The air smelled stale - it had been many years since anyone had breathed life into this grand edifice.

"I will show you to your room," whispered Nadia, casting a furtive glance over her shoulder.

As she walked ahead, you noticed her movements were careful, almost rehearsed, as if she had done this countless times before.

Her gait betrayed an unnatural rhythm, a pattern formed by habituation rather than choice.

She knew the layout of the house inside out, each twist and turn etched into her memory like grooves on an old vinyl record.

You followed her silently, allowing the grandeur of the mansion to wash over you.

Every now and then, you caught glimpses of your reflection in the polished marble floors, a ghostly image of yourself trapped between reality and illusion. You found yourself feeling strangely calm and collected, despite the circumstances that led you here.

Nadia finally stopped outside a door adorned with intricate carvings and gestured you into a room without windows.

"This is where you will sleep and perform your duties," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. There was something eerie about the maid, an unspoken understanding between her and the master of the house.

Slowly stepping into the dimly lit chamber, you took note of the opulent surroundings: velvet curtains hung from gold-plated rails, plush rugs lay scattered across the polished hardwood floor, and delicate porcelain vases filled with fresh flowers graced every surface.

However, the abundance of luxury did little to ease the unease that settled deep within your gut.

The maid turned abruptly, locking eyes with you. "At night, the room will be locked securely so don't attempt to leave. If you need anything, ring the bell by the bedside table," she told you before fluffing up some of the cushions on the bed.

"I never..." You trailed off, swallowing back tears that threatened to betray your bravado. You forced yourself to maintain eye contact with the maid, knowing full well that any sign of weakness would be exploited mercilessly. "I have not done anything like this before. I was told that I had to because a lot of money was paid for my services, but understand please that I have no experience," you then stammered, knowing full well that you had been purchased to perform sexual acts for your benefactor.

"The fact that you are so innocent, and young is precisely why Mr. Shelby has purchased you," Nadia responded coldly, turning away to adjust a lamp on the nightstand.

"Now, let me explain to you what is expected of you around here," she continued, softening her tone slightly.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, and your palms slickened with sweat, though you managed to nod affirmatively, meeting her gaze steadily. "Firstly, you must address Mr. Shelby as 'Sir' at all times. Do not forget," she warned sternly.

You swallowed hard, nodding again.

"You will be allowed to leave your room with another maid, between eight o'clock in the morning and eight o'clock in the evening, but not otherwise unless Mr. Shelby is with you," Nadia explained, adjusting a silk pillow propped by the headboard.

You tried to picture a day spent in confinement, the mere thought sending shivers down your spine.

"Mr. Shelby will inform you directly when he requires your services. Most often he will come here to use you for his pleasure, and he usually expects to be attended to at least twice per day, occasionally more often. You should prepare yourself mentally and physically for his needs because it can get quite overwhelming sometimes," Nadia explained and your breath hitched, but you managed to control the panic rising within you.

"And if I refuse?" you asked, causing Nadia to pause and look at you. "Refusal is not an option. Mr. Shelby doesn't tolerate disobedience. You must do whatever he asks."

Your hands shook involuntarily, but you clenched them into fists to prevent further trembling. You nodded weakly, fighting back tears.

"What he wants...is it...painful?" What you didn't know, what you couldn't comprehend, was whether the physical pain of intimacy would be more bearable than the emotional agony of submitting to someone else's whims.

"Sometimes, but he's gentle enough," Nadia replied matter-of-factly. "Now, you must get ready for tonight. He will be visiting you at 8 o'clock and expects you to wear nothing but a pair of undergarments of your choice," Nadia said before directing you to your wardrobe. "You will lie on the bed and wait for him, understood?" she asked and, again, you nodded.

"I will be back after he is done with you to change the sheets and provide food and water," Nadia then finally explained before she left you alone in the darkness, save for the faint glow of your bedside lamp. You heard the key turn in the lock, sealing you in the room. You sat on the edge of the bed, trying to process everything she told you.

On the bedside table you found a bottle of lubrication next to a bottle of painkillers, both small comforts in the face of the reality of your situation and, when you looked around the room, you also found other items such as restraints hanging neatly from hooks in the wall. You shivered, feeling your anxiety rise.

Then, just before 8 o'clock, there was a knock on the door. You flinched, jumping to your feet and nearly knocking over the lamp.

"It's time," Nadia called through the door. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage.

You stripped off your clothes, leaving you naked in the dim light of the room. You pulled on a pair of cotton panties, their thin fabric barely covering the shame you felt.

You then laid down beneath the thin sheets and waited for your new master's arrival. The tension mounted as the seconds ticked by, the sound of footsteps echoing loudly in the silent mansion.

There was a creak of the door opening, and an intimidating figure emerged from the shadows. His presence loomed large, filling the space with an aura of dominance and power. He wore only a robe, his toned body visible underneath. You bit your lip nervously, unable to tear your gaze away from those imposing features.

Thomas Shelby, you reminded yourself – a name that would forever haunt your dreams. His cold blue eyes swept over you, assessing your worth.

You stared back, holding his gaze, refusing to cower.

"Welcome, Love," he rasped, his voice like gravel underfoot, but you remained silent, swallowing the lump in your throat. He moved closer, looming over you like a storm cloud, his scent of sandalwood and spice filling your nostrils.

"I trust Nadia has briefed you on your duties?" he queried, reaching out to stroke your cheek.

Your skin recoiled at his touch, but you refused to pull away.

"Yes, she did," you mumbled hesitantly, your voice cracking under his scrutiny. He studied you carefully, tracing the lines of your jaw with his fingers.

"Good girl," he crooned softly, a strange sense of pride swelling within you. Your resolve wavered at the compliment, but you steeled yourself, reminding yourself of the reality of your situation as he touched some of your bare skin not covered by the white sheet.

"Relax Love," he then said softly as the heat of his hand seared through your skin, sending quivers up your spine. "You will get used to this after a while," he went on to say and his voice was comforting, yet the words stung like venom.

Your breath quickened, chest rising and falling in rapid succession, and your hands instinctively curled into fists beneath the thin white sheet covering you. You wanted to scream, but instead, you simply nodded, unable to find any words to respond.

Thomas looked at you, his eyes appraising your form beneath the covers. "I am going to have a look at you now, eh" he said suddenly, reaching down to lift the edge of the sheet away from your body.

You squirmed and turned red, trying to cover yourself. But he pushed your hands aside gently, staring at you with a mixture of lust and admiration. "I cannot wait to feel your tight little cunt squeeze around my cock when I claim you," he whispered, running his fingertips along your inner thigh, causing you to shiver uncomfortably.

"But first, let me have a look at this little virgin hole of yours, eh?" the man said and his words sent a wave of unease coursing through your veins. You could feel the sweat trickling down your face, mingling with the tears pooling in your eyes. You bit your lip, struggling to contain the sobs threatening to erupt from inside you.

With a gentle tug, he pulled your panties down just enough to expose your slit and your heart pounded against your chest almost painfully.

"I have been told that your opening is particularly small" he murmured, trailing his fingers over your slit before parting your labia slightly, exposing your tiny clit.

"Ow!" you gasped, wincing at the sudden stretch caused by his fingers.

"You do have a tight opening indeed," he grinned wickedly, licking his lips.

Thomas gazed at it with fascination, reaching between your thighs. You tried to close your legs, but he firmly held them open, pressing a dry finger against your entrance, probing it gently.

"Look at that," he breathed, leaning forward to get a better view. "It's barely opened up yet," Tommy groaned as he probed deeper, widening your opening until he found your hymen—a thin membrane that separated you from being fully broken. His fingers brushed against it, sending stinging pain shooting through your core as he toyed with your opening.

"Now, be a good girl and hold still for me," he cooed, pressing the tips of one of his fingers against your entrance. "I need to stretch you out a bit, ready for later," he went on to say as his finger pressed harder, forcing its way into your most intimate space. It felt too big, too foreign. The pain was excruciating, but you did your best not to make a sound.

"There we go," he muttered, thrusting deeper until his entire pointer finger filled you up. "That's a good girl. Now, let's see if I can get a second one in there," he told you before reaching for the bottle of lubrication he kept on the nightstand and squirting the viscous liquid onto two of his fingers.

"Hold still for me," he reminded you before swiping his fingers across your outer lips and then pushing not one but two fingers right into you.

You cried out and arched your back, biting into your own fist to stop any louder sounds from escaping.

"Shh," Thomas hushed you, rubbing soothing circles into your hipbone as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

His fingers felt cold and slimy inside you, sliding easily past your resistance, tearing at your hymen with each thrust.

You closed your eyes tightly, gritting your teeth as the sensation of being stretched and torn overwhelmed you.

The sight of his fingers stretching you like this turned him on; he couldn't help but groan and squeeze harder, making sure you knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"Such a good girl," he praised between grunts, watching your petals pulse around his digits, growing wetter and slicker with every stroke.

"See how hard you make me?" he moaned, opening his robe and grabbing hold of his erection, stroking it firmly. "I really want to fuck you now," he determined before he withdrew his fingers from you, leaving you feeling empty and exposed.

"Now be a good girl and turn over and lay flat on your stomach, face down against pillow," he commanded gruffly, pushing your upper body onto the mattress.

You hesitated, wanting to turn over and hide your nakedness, but fear of displeasing him kept you lying facedown.

"I am going to use some lubrication, but it is going to hurt a lot more if you don't relax Love," he warned sharply, pulling your waist upwards and spreading your legs apart.

As you lay on your stomach and your heart hammered against your chest. The thought of being penetrated by him sent chills down your spine. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to block out the inevitable.

You whimpered softly, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come, and Tommy smeared a generous amount of lube onto his cock, coating it in a thick layer of slippery fluid. You flinched in anticipation as he positioned himself between your legs.

"This might hurt a bit for the first few days, but you will get used to it after a while. The more we do it, the easier it will get," he said while aligning himself with your entry point.

"Now," he continued, his tone stern. "I want you to stay completely still when I penetrate you," he added, applying another dollop of lube to his shaft.

You remained silent, swallowing loudly as you attempted to gather your courage. You could hear your own heartbeat echoing in your ears; the rhythmic, thunderous pounding was deafening.

"Do you understand?" he asked quietly and you nodded. Your muscles tensed, ready to endure whatever came next.

Thomas placed the head of his penis at your entrance, teasing you with a slow push. You exhaled loudly, gripping the sheets in your fists.

"Relax and let me in," Thomas urged you, nudging the tip of his member against your entrance. "That's it," he sighed, feeling your body yield under his command. His cock slid into you, stretching you wide open, and the friction of entering you caused a shudder to ripple through his body.

"Ah," he groaned, reveling in the exquisite sensation of being enveloped by your warm, tight channel. "Such a good girl," he groaned as he savored the moment, basking in the sensations that coursed through him. Then, he began to thrust, filling you up inch by agonizing inch until every last millimeter of his erection was buried deep within you.

"So tight," he groaned, bucking into you with a force that seemed to shake the entire bed. "Fuck, you're so goddamn tight."

"You are going to be such a good little whore for me, eh?" Tommy murmured into your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck.

"You will take my cock many times a day, love," he growled, his words a dark promise that sent a chill down your spine. "In the morning, afternoon, and evening."

You swallowed loudly, unable to meet his gaze. Your heart hammered wildly against your chest, and you struggled to suppress the sob that threatened to escape.

"Every time I come through that door, you'll be ready for me, won't you?" he asked, his grip tightening around your hip.

"Because I'm going to fuck you whenever I want, Love." Tommy snarled, punctuating his words with hard thrusts.

For almost an hour, he used you like this, treating you like a rag doll that belonged to him alone until, finally, he was ready to ejaculate inside your raw opening.

"I am going to cum inside you now, Love," he informed you, his cock twitching violently against your vaginal wall.

"Do you want me to fill you up with my seed?" he asked you, his voice laced with lust, his fingers tightening around your hips.

"Yes, sir," you managed to reply, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.

He smiled down at you, satisfaction shining in his eyes. "Good girl," he praised, pumping his cock a few more times before letting out a guttural yell and filling you up with his essence.

As he collapsed next to you, panting heavily, you could feel his warmth radiating into your channel.

The remnants of his semen trickled down your leg, leaving a sticky trail behind.

"That was a lovely experience, wasn't it?" Tom said, his voice still coarse from exertion. "Now rest. I am going to fuck you again when I come back from my business deal tonight" he added, his gaze lingering on your tender, swollen lips.

He moved his hands to cup your breasts, palming them gently before pinching your nipples.

"You are going to learn to enjoy it Love," he whispered, his voice harsh and commanding. "And when you do," he paused, his breath hot against your cheek, "you are going to beg me for more," he determined before putting his robe back on and calling one of the maids to help you clean up.

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EPOXYSHİNE - DRAGON+ (3)

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