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Villains

Regina awoke in the White Room. She had no memory of how she had come to arrive there, but she sure was pissed.

She looked down and noticed that she was wearing her costume. Had she been captured on a mission? She began to scream in rage and caught sight of her reflection in the glossy floor. No mask. Oh hell. What was happening?

“Now, now, Miss Nova,” a voice said from seemingly nowhere, “Screaming will only make you hoarse. I’m afraid it won’t help at all. No one can hear you but us.”

“Us?” she asked, still screaming.

“Oh yes. There are seven of us in here watching and waiting to see what will happen.”

“Who are you?”

“Subcontractors.”

She rolled her eyes. “Hitmen.”

“Not exactly. We have no interest in killing you, Miss Nova.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me who hired you.”

“I have no problem telling you anything you want to know, Regina.” She began to hear an odd sound with her superhuman senses. It was like a soft whistle. “We were contracted by the CIV to capture you and perform this experiment.”

“The CIV?? But that doesn’t make sense! I’m a member!”

“We are aware.”

The sound was growing louder. Anyone could hear it now. And she finally figured out what it was. “What are you doing?” she demanded as she began to panic about the gas being pumped into the room.

“As I said: watching and waiting.”

She was beginning to feel dizzy. She began to sink to the floor, hair falling forward. It was getting hard to think. “I’m a villain,” she muttered. “I’m one of you.”

“Yes,” the voice said, “but the CIV was getting a little tired of your antics and your rebelliousness. They wanted to see that you were a little more manageable, and that’s where we come in.”

Regina’s eyes slipped closed and she fell unconscious. As a result, she began to breath normally, inhaling mouthfuls of the mysterious gas. She was completely out when the door appeared in the wall and a tall man in a gas mask walked in and scooped her up.

When she woke again, she was strapped to a metal table, her own gas mask tied snuggly around her mouth and nose. This one was connected by a hose to a tank at the table’s side. She began to thrash and moan through the mask and the man walked over and pulled it down to around her neck.

“What do you want?” she asked. “To let me go?”

“You don’t have that much money,” he said simply reaching to put the mask back up.

“I can get it for you! I’m a thief! A good one!”

“The best, I’m told. But we’ve already been paid.”

“Then I can do other things,” she offered, pouting her lips slightly.

“Sexual things?”

“Anything you want. I’ll be yours to do with as you please. Just let me go.”

“It’s working,” he said over his shoulder. Then he turned back to her. “We’re absolutely going to let you go. But first, we need to do our work.”

Her protests were cut off and muffled as he moved her muzzle back into place and turned the knob on top of the tank. She could smell and taste it now. The gas was sickly sweet as it filled her lungs. Her eyes rolled back as it began to enter her brain through her bloodstream. This time, she didn’t pass out. Instead, she simply went limp, eyes half-lidded. And after a few hours of sports, the men returned to her and closed the valve.

“Regina,” the lead man prompted. “Can you hear me?”

Her eyes swiveled to stare at him, but they were totally unfocused, and the pupils were different sizes.

“Good. Now listen carefully. The gas has made you a very good girl. You want to be a good girl, right?”

“Ah,” was all she could manage.

“From now on you’re going to do what the CIV tells you, isn’t that right?”

“Ah.”

His hand traces along her chin then down to the neckline of her costume.

“You’ve always been my favorite villain,” he said. “I was so happy when the Consortium told us you would be the target. It made all my dreams come true. Well, most of them. There’s still one left.”

There was a zipping sound as he pulled off his slacks to reveal a very hard cock that he began to pump frantically. It wasn’t long before the warm seed splashed across her face and dripped into her slack mouth. Behind him, her heavy eyes watched as the others all dropped their pants as well and began to approach.

Three hours later, Regina Nova hobbled into the center of a large circular room. On the floor was an enormous logo that read Consortium of International Villainy. She looked up at the ring of chairs that surrounded her. She had been released from the White Room and walked four miles across town covered from head to toe in dry cum. Her makeup ran down her face. Her hair hung in clumps.

“Well Regina,” the leader of the CIV said from the dark edge of the room. “It looks like you had quite a morning.”

“Oh yeah!” she chirped. “Like, a bunch of guys were playing with me. They said they knew you.”

“They did indeed.”

“Well I like them. The fed me so much tasty cum. I’m, like, super full.”

“It seems like they did as required,” another commented.

Regina looked at him and licked her lips. “I could probably go for some more though. If you want.”

“We do.”

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

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I'm sure I'm not the only one who will greatly miss your work if you get booted, any ideas for alternate platforms you might publish on?

Probably none to be super honest. I love love love you all and I love writing but I am tired. Not tired enough to quit while it’s still going good here! But tired enough to quit if this platform collapses on me. I’m not going till I’m forced out, but if I do get forced out, it’s adios I think.

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There's a woman in my class who is so fucking pretty but has one of the most severe cases of resting bitch face and I am so attracted to her and I just keep staring at her face in the little window and imagining what she would look like staring into a pretty spiral until those harsh eyes went completely blank.

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Time to start thinking of Lauren 4.0 or at least 3.1 in case you get banned.

I’m not gonna lie to you, my little chili babies.

If Tumblr decides to slap me off the platform, I don’t think I have it in me to rebuild a third time, and I don’t have the time or the patience currently to set up a backup. Save the ones you like the most in the way that is best for you!

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Pink Nebula

<Posted without image>

Chapter 3 of the Lights series.

"Good girls should get lost in space," Rachel muttered as Phillip slid effortlessly into her pussy from behind. "Good girls learn their rightful place."

"Good boys should get lost in space," Phillip echoed, mindlessly pushing in and out of his girlfriend. "Good boys keep a steady pace."

Both were staring blankly ahead at the pink spinning galaxy projected on the wall. The stars blinked and flickered so beautifully. The ribbons of light spun and pulsed and kept the pair perfectly empty. And full.

Rachel had only wanted a nice scene to fall asleep to when she'd ordered the device from Blank Canvas Lights. It promised to give her the best night of sleep she'd ever gotten. And as far as the day-time Rachel knew, it was fulfilling that promise beautifully. Each night she fell asleep watching the wonderful spinning stars, and each morning she woke feeling relaxed and refreshed and incredibly satisfied.

Her boyfriend had a slightly different experience. He also fell asleep watching the lights, but only when he stayed at Rachel's. When he was home in his own apartment, he found himself completely unable to find rest. It was like the lights were a drug to him. He needed to stare at them. He needed to fall into the dark blackness at the center of the galaxy. And so he found himself staying at her place more and more often.

Tonight, Phillip had decided at 1 am that he couldn't take another sleepless night. He texted Rachel that he was on his way over. Her lack of response just told him she was already asleep. But when he arrived, he found her seemingly wide awake. Her eyes were open. Unblinking, even. And she was staring at the projection.

Naked and on all fours.

A vibrator buzzed lightly in her pussy.

And she was chanting something.

"Lonely space girls stare and play. Lonely space girls must obey."

Phillip freaked out. But when he rushed in to try and snap her out of it, the galaxy on the wall came into full view. And the sleep that had been eluding him descended all at once. He remembered Rachel looking up at him before the dark took him.

"Lonely space girl, not alone."

"Helpful space man makes her moan," his voice replied from somewhere far, far below his weightless mind.

He pulled the vibrator out of her and replaced it with his suddenly rigid shaft. Her eyes returned to the stars and his joined them, and they began to fall together, the same way they'd done every night he stayed over.

"Good girls should get lost in space," Rachel moaned as her breathing quickened. "Good girls take it on the face."

Rachel came hard on her boyfriend's steady cock, and Phillip pulled out just in time to spray his load on her lips and chin.

"Mission complete," the said together. The spinning galaxy disappeared from the wall and the pair began their conditioned clean up procedure. Rachel went to the bathroom to wash her face. Philip followed and took a shower. Neither spoke, their minds still hopelessly lost in the center a galaxy they couldn't see.

And in the bedroom, the little projector uploaded the latest recording to headquarters for immediate review and publication.

Chapter 3 of the Lights series.

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

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I always cum so hard to your stories, thank you for your writing

I live to serve ❤️

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33 Million

"And these three?" Number 45 asked.

"Sisters," the Auctioneer replied. "They were taken from a smallish planet in section 9. Green and blue; terribly gaudy planet. But the women are exquisite."

"Cost?"

"We're starting the bidding at 33 million."

"Steep," Number 45 remarked.

The Auctioneer simply smiled. He didn't know the man's name, only the number on his ID badge. The auction was to be anonymous and so only the Accountant would know the names of the participants. It was a position of supreme power to have all that information. He had thought about applying to be the next Accountant, but he just had so much fun on stage. The Accountant only saw the clients. The Auctioneer got to see the goods.

"They are a set, you see," he explained. "They were raised together and spent most of their lives so far near each other. It would be… cruel to separate them."

Number 45 snorted lightly. The Auctioneer had seen his type before. He had no problem with cruelty.

The Auctioneer tapped a small device on his wrist and the girl's profiles were displayed in front of them.

"Margo, Sandra, and Abigail," the Auctioneer read. "Acquired on Sol-3 by the ship Avianara and her captain. Medical diagnostics performed."

He touched the symbol for medical history.

"Margo and Sandra were sexually active. Abigail was not. You can see their weights and measures here."

He let Number 45 read then backed out to the main profiles.

"Implanted with control chips that key to a single voice."

He placed a finger on the icon for the chips and their history appeared.

"Mmm," the Auctioneer muttered. "Lightly used. It seems the good captian saw no problem with enjoying the two that had already been sexually active. You can see here he gave commands to strip and engage in intercourse and that the commands were followed. No commands were given for some time after that. As I said, women from this planet are quite something. And down here you can see that control was transferred officially to me upon their arrival here."

"And if I should bid on them?"

"If you win the bid, I will transfer control to your voice upon confirmation of payment."

"Show me how it works."

"Girls," the Auctioneer called out, "Attention."

All three girls snapped upright and turned to face their controller.

"Arms out."

They obeyed, and as they did new entries appeared on the chip history.

"Sleep."

Immediately, the girls' eyes closed and their muscles relaxed.

"As you can see, the chips are quite effective and provide a complete history of use if you ever

decide to sell them yourself."

He smiled wider.

"Impressive. I do believe I will be bidding on these. They make a lovely set." He turned to walk back to the main hall. "Thank you for the preview. Your hospitality will be remembered."

The Auctioneer returned the smile. Always good to have rich men owing you favors.

Always good, indeed.

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

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Ice Core Report ❄️ Mayd 2025

#1 Story: Tasteless

As soon as I saw the picture, the story was already fully formed in my mind. I'm glad you all had just as strong a reaction as I did.

#2 Story: Clichés

This was an example of knowing the title before I knew anything else. I'm very happy with how it shaped up, though!

#3 Story: Recommended with Satisfaction

This one sat in my drafts for quite a while. I had the picture but I just could not get a story to go with it. I think this was the beginning of some writer's block. But eventually I powered through it and I'm ultimately happy with it.

#4 Story: Out from Under

Admittedly, I've been watching old episodes of Hoarders to fall asleep and something about a minefield of vaguely hypnotic items buried in a hoard kept tickling the back of my brain. I'm not 1000% satisfied that I pulled it off but I'm still mostly happy with it.

#5 Story: Ignore, Don't Forget

The first of story of Mayd! I like this concept a lot. Like the idea of a perception filter from Dr. Who. Sometimes the most effective move isn't convincing someone of a problem doesn't exist. It's convincing them that the problem isn't really a problem at all.

GENERAL THOUGHTS

I hope everyone enjoyed my little themed month. I'm absolutely fucking thrilled that the whole top 5 were stories I wrote special for Mayd. I found it actually quite challenging to stay on one topic for so many in a row. Now that I'm free to do my own thing again, I'm hoping the writing comes a little easier.

As always, if you're a fan of my work and want to support me with something other than praise and notes, consider donating to my Ko-Fi. Thanks for reading and hanging out with me.

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After School

Tabby had been so relieved when Gina had broken up with her asshole boyfriend. She'd never known what her roommate had seen in that guy. The apartment had been full of the sounds of their sex, so maybe that's all it was. Still no excuse for treating her like an object. She was an honors student, not a piece of property.

The door opened and closed and Tabby poked her head out of her room into the common space of their small apartment. Gina was throwing her back on the counter and flopping down on the couch.

"Hey Gina," Tabby called over to her.

"Hey Tabs. I'm hungry. Gonna heat up some pizza. You want anything?"

"Nah. I'm finishing up my project."

She heard the TV click on and went back to her work. Then about a half hour later, finally saved her paper and went out into the living area. Gina was sprawled out on the couch watching television with the empty box of pizza on the floor beside her. Tabby caught her eyes wandering across her friend. She'd never considered herself bisexual until very recently when she began to notice how women had a nasty habit of turning her on. College, right?

"Enjoy your after school snack?" she teased her roommate.

"What…," Gina said, eyes darting to meet Tabby's. "After school… snack… yes…"

Her eyes slipped closed, her arm dropped to her side, and the remote fell into the pizza box. Then she sat upright and pulled her shirt over her head. She hadn't been wearing a bra. It happened so fast, Tabby could barely react. Suddenly Gina was sitting there, eyes closed and topless.

"I am ready for my after school snack," Gina said in a flat monotone.

Tabby gasped, starting to understand what was happening. For the next fifteen minutes, she grilled Gina with questions, all of which were answered in that same flat, undeniably sexy voice. She told Tabby about how her ex had hypnotized her on their second date just before she was going to tell him she didn't think it was working. She told Tabby about all the ways he had taken her. Every hole. Every position. She told Tabby how horny it made her when he treated her like a doll or a toy or a piece of furniture. Not a person. Just an object for his use and his pleasure.

By the end, Tabby had cum three times. Her pants were open and her hand was working overtime listening to the tale.

"Women?" Tabby asked, pulling her pants the rest of the way off.

"Yes, Mistress. He has several women under his control, and we all spent time together."

"Show me."

"Yes, Mistress," Gina said as she fell forward into Tabby's waiting lap. Tabby let her eyes close as Gina went to work. College, right?

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

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wacky trigger idea I just had: you give someone a command, and if they don’t follow it they drop into trance or feel uncomfortable or something. So instead of them being unable to disobey, they’re being coerced into obeying. Thoughts?

I like this!I’ll have to keep it in mind.

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Dazed and needy or fractionated and blank?

Definitely fractionated and blank.

No hesitation

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Don't Let Us Down

Laughter echoed down the long stone corridors beneath Vermillion Hall. Evelyn stood at attention in the cold, damp basement room. She did not shiver or complain, despite her nakedness. Mrs. Blackwyck trained her far better than that.

She heard the door upstairs swing open and shut seven times. Eight time. Twelve times. Twenty times. All the guests should be accounted for by now. She did not move from her place, as she had not yet been called. But she knew that she would be summoned soon. And sure enough, six minutes and twelve seconds later, the bell on the wall to her left rang softly, pulled by a string that led somewhere above.

Immediately, Evelyn flew into action. She did not run, but she walked with purpose, driven onward and upward by a desire to fulfill her expectations. Stone corridors led to stone stairs. One flight then a second before the stone finally gave way to the red polished wood that gave the manor its name.

She stepped into a room lined with wardrobes and dressers. Mrs. Blackwyck sat in a plush chair against a nearby wall, dressed in deep violet lingerie.

"So prompt," she said with a satisfied smile. "You've come so far from that wretched, rebellious girl I abducted."

"That you, Mistress," Evelyn said blankly. Somewhere deep inside, the praise felt good. But Evelyn had long since lost the need for gratification. She did not work for praise. She worked because Mrs. Blackwyck demanded obedience.

"Black forty-seven tonight, Evie."

"Yes, Mistress."

Evelyn went to the wardrobe marked with the number forty-seven and pulled out the black outfit. She dressed silently as Mrs. Blackwyck watched. When she was done, Mrs. Blackwyck placed the maid's choker and headpiece on Evelyn and nodded. The pair walked together into the next room, which was full of other servants. Some were dressed. Some where not. Evelyn recognized some. Others had most likely been brought by the guests to help with the evening.

"That tray is to go to the sitting room," Mrs. Blackwyck said, pointing to a tray with a pair of wine glasses. As Evelyn picked it up and turned to leave, her mistress put her hands on the maid's shoulders, stopping her. Evelyn felt Mrs. Blackwyck's warm body pressed against her back and felt her breath in her ear. "Don't let us down tonight."

"I won't, Mistress."

Evelyn walked calmly and purposefully into the sitting room. Her modest breasts shook lightly with each step, peaking out over the black uniform Mrs. Blackwyck had chosen for her. And as she entered with the drinks, the two men in the room fell silent.

"Evie??" he stammered, dropping the book he'd been holding. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Now, now Mr. Vexley," Mr. Blackwyck said, squeezing the man's shoulder more tightly than was proper. "Why don't you have a seat there and we can discuss a few things."

"I will not!" the man shouted, causing other guests to set into the room. "Evelyn cover yourself!"

Evelyn didn't move. She simply held the serving tray, waiting for the men to take their drinks so she could return to the servants' room. A glimmer of recognition floated through her mind. This man was familiar, and he obviously knew her. But how, she couldn't say.

More people were entering the room. Then men each wore robes. The women each wore something similar to Mrs. Blackwyck, whose voice floated into the room from somewhere behind Evelyn.

"The servants know better than to follow an order that conflicts with the evening's purpose. No servant in the building will follow any order that would cause them to cover more skin than their owners have allowed, no matter how much you scream. You know the rules. And Evelyn here is our most well-trained."

The man's mouth opened and closed several times, but no coherent words fell out.

"You've been stealing from us, Mr. Vexley," Mr. Blackwyck said, pushing the other man into the chair he'd offered. "You got away with it for quite some time, but we discovered your betrayal about four months ago. Lysandra decided that in lieu of you paying us back the money you stole, we'd balance the scales in another way."

"Four months in our care. Four months of injections and subliminal messages and screens turned her into the perfect servant. And in all that time, her phone never rang in your name once. You should really keep in better contact with your daughter, Mr. Vexley. Maybe if you did, you'd have noticed she'd been taken. Maybe you could have saved her."

Mrs. Blackwyck took the glasses from the tray and immediately Evelyn bowed her head in thanks and returned to the servants' room for her next assignment. The voices faded as she retreated. She could head muffled pleading and an announcement by her master that the same fate would befall any others of their group that thought it would be wise to turn on each other.

She delivered more food to other rooms. She brought out a dessert. She took away empty plates and glasses. Each time, the guests would watch her from the corner of their eyes, as if waiting for her to ask for help. She never did. Why should she?

Dinner ended. The talking came to an end as people got into pairs and groups and the real reason for their gathering began. The sounds of moaning echoed through the halls. The calls for servants changed from requests for food to requests for service. They returned not with empty plates and used forks but filled holes and dripping faces.

And at the end of the night, Mrs. Blackwyck invited her to the suite on the fifth floor. Inside were three others.

"Evelyn Vexley," Mrs. Blackwyck said with a wide smile. "You did so well tonight."

"Thank you, Mistress."

"You probably don't remember them at this point, but this Samuel Underwood, Jonathan Garret, and Emily Thornison. Each approached me this evening after it became clear that you weren't going to come to your senses. It seems you had some admirers in your old life. You're to give them whatever they desire until daybreak."

"Yes, Mistress."

With that, Lysandra Blackwyck closed the bedroom door, and the former Duchess of Vexley began to remove what little cloth still covered her skin.

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

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Simon Says trigger but with the malicious intent of Sam Says

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Sorry I have not been super engaged the past several weeks. Finals then starting my internship then going right back into summer classes and now starting to travel for work while all still managing my normal workload has left me somewhat burned out! Go figure!!

I'm still enjoying the writing but I just have not had the energy for much else. Hoping that changes soon because I do miss you all! Please don't be afraid to send asks or dms still! I promise I'll get back to you when I have a spare neuron to devote!

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Boober Eats

Chapter 4 of the Ride Share series.

The car bounced along the gravel road, each stone and pothole sending waves of pleasure radiating from the plug firmly in Jenny's ass. She positively giggled with excitement when the driver had turned onto the winding road through the scrublands outside of town. She knew what the road would do to her mind and her body; completing the work that began on the app and continued in the car.

When she'd opened the Boober Eats app and selected "meal," she hadn't realized what it meant. She hadn't read the fine print. Who did? She had been sure to stare at that pretty red loading screen though. Red like cherry Kool-Aid. She'd still be Jennifer then.

It had been Jennifer that had told the app that it didn't matter how far away dinner was. Radius set to maximum, Boober Eats. And it had been Jennifer that had selected "Cheapest" on the screen right after that pretty blue pattern like a berry smoothie. It had played longer than she'd realized, and a familiar feeling had begun to grow somewhere lower than her stomach. The words at the top of the checklist weren't important. She'd ordered food on an app before. She knew she was saying she wanted the meal to be cheap.

But the next loading screen was pink and reminded her of the taste of bubblegum. Or watermelon. Or cotton candy. The next screen asked "Pickup and Delivery?" Her mind felt like spun sugar, too. Puffy. Yummy. Full of air. She clicked "Yes," not registering the strangeness of the question. And as that tingling between her legs grew warmer and wetter, her cotton candy brain simply melted away in the blink of an eye.

It was Jenny that had gotten into the car that arrived five minutes later. She wasn't concerned that she hadn't actually picked a restaurant, let alone a meal.

Or how quickly the driver had arrived.

Or the lack of food in the car.

Or the lack of pants around her legs.

The driver asked her name, and she gave it. The music came on and a smile crept across her lips. It was around mile four that she'd pulled off her top, smile wider than ever. At mile seven, she'd begun to slide her fingers into the slit she'd pulled her panties aside to expose. Twenty miles in, she noticed her nipples had started to leak milk when she groped at them. And it was around mile fifty she slid the plug into her ass, so courteously provided by the driver. And now, a hundred and eighty-seven miles from her house, each jolt of the unpaved road caused a moan and a giggle and a shiver that felt like frozen pleasure all across her skin.

The car stopped in front of a small rundown building. There were no other roads and no other buildings anywhere she could see.

"I need a picture," the driver said. "Proof of delivery."

"Totally," she replied, her smile remaining plastered across her face as the driver snapped five, ten, twenty pictures of her, topless and sopping wet in the back seat. Then she climbed out and he drove off, his job complete.

"Jennifer?" a voice asked from the door to the building. A man stepped out in simple clothes that did nothing to hide his bulge.

"Who?" she asked, head cocked slightly to the side. "I'm your meal, silly. Would you like to start by eating my pussy or drinking from my titties?"

"I'd like to start by going inside," he said with a small chuckle. "Oh and here."

He handed her a single quarter, which she held in her hand for lack of any pockets.

"I want to thank you for choosing the widest radius and the cheapest offer. I enjoy my privacy and have very little money, so it's not often that I am able to use the app."

Meal didn't really understand, but it seemed like he was satisfied with her so far. That was excellent news. She really, really wanted to get five stars. She'd do anything for it.

Chapter 4 of the Ride Share series.

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

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Not What It Looks Like

Ian spoke and Melissa's body moved as if weightless on his strings. She knew that she shouldn't be doing this. She knew she shouldn't be bent over in front of him. She knew she shouldn't be wearing this parody of a uniform. She knew he shouldn't have his cock in his hand. And she knew more than anything that she shouldn't be enjoying the attention so much.

But he had some kind of a hold over her that she couldn't explain.

There was no great fortune she was chasing. The family was wealthy enough to hire her, true, but not wealthy enough for her to risk her job and reputation. He wasn't overwhelmingly handsome or confident. Nothing could explain the way just wanted to do as she was told. Nothing could explain her inability to resist him. It wasn't looks or money or love.

But each day, she'd come to work, take a long drink of the tea he'd made her, and feel her defenses just ebb away. She'd clean the kitchen while Mr. and Mrs. Hammond were still here in the morning. But by the time they left for work, her body would already be starting to rebel against her. Cleaning the dining room was slow and sluggish. And when she reached the living room each day, Ian would be sitting there, cock in his hand and smiling. Her new uniform hanging from the coat rack.

Melissa knew his parents could never know about the things that she'd done with him. He was in his twenties now, but it was still a tremendous breach of propriety. She'd be fired immediately. Her reputation would be completely destroyed. But when he'd point to the uniform, she'd simply nod and change. Her body lost all it's lethargy when she followed what he told her, like the sluggishness was just from moving in a way he didn't require.

She changed right there in front of him each day. He'd seen every inch of her. Touched every inch of her. Kissed every inch of her. And in return, she'd take every inch of him. And it felt fucking amazing.

Maybe that's why she kept going back.

But today when she was showing herself off for him, she heard the door swing open and a slight gasp from the corner. Melissa whipped around to see Mrs. Hammond standing in the doorway. Her sluggishness seemed to evaporate under the terror coursing through her. She babbled and plead with the woman that this wasn't what it looked like. Surely there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for why she was dressed like a whore, bent over, with the woman's son pumping his hard cock.

That's when she noticed that Ian was still pumping away - faster, even - and that Mrs. Hammond's face showed no sign of upset. Instead there was something else in her eyes. Hunger?

"Continue," Ian said to Melissa, and immediately her desire to follow his orders reasserted itself. She returned to the pose she'd been in before their interruption, then continued the slow teasing dance she'd perfected for him. Mrs. Hammond reached under her waistband, and a moment later Melissa saw her panties fall to the floor. She stepped out of them as she walked to her son.

Melissa gasped as Ian's mother lowered herself onto his shaft and began to move her hips up and down.

"Don't look so shocked," he said as he looked over her shoulder. "She drinks the same tea you do each morning, and she'd been drinking it far longer."

Mrs. Hammond's eyes slipped closed in quiet ecstasy. Melissa knew the feeling. She knew how good he felt.

"Now are you two going to be able to share?"

"Yes, sir," they replied together, and the unison of their voices finally made Melissa understand. She should never have been questioning her urges. She should never have wondered why she wanted him. As she stood there - dripping wet and watching Mrs. Hammonds considerable breasts quake with each bounce - she knew that everything was exactly as it should be.

This was exactly what it looked like: wonderful.

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[laurentidal-backup]

Backup reblog from @laurentidal

Walls, Watchers, and Waters

Nicki first noticed the drone at the beginning of the summer. Any time she went out to tan or to swim, she'd hear the steady whirring of the rotors and see the thing rise up from the other side of the fence. She'd told her neighbor to cut the shit. She didn't want to be spied on by some perv. But he'd told her that he wasn't spying. He was just excited to play with his new toy.

It was around that time that the loud music started too. She could hear it through the walls. Heavy base and high-pitched squeals. She wouldn't have called it music herself, but to each their own. She'd complained about that, too. He'd apologized. He moved aside and showed her the stereo he'd had installed, conveniently right against their shared wall. He'd turn it down. He was just excited to play with his new toy.

When the drone kept appearing and the music kept playing, she'd complained to the building manager, but she was pretty sure the guy was fucking her. The woman would knock on his door, and Nicki would hear the stereo kick on. At first she though he was showing it to her. Now she thought he was using it to drown out their moaning. Every time the woman left his townhouse, she'd be flushed and sweaty.

Eventually, she learned to just deal with it. The music would pound through her walls in the evenings as she was drifting off to sleep. The drone would fly overhead as she swam. Finally, she decided that if he really wanted a show, she'd give it to him. She took to sunbathing and swimming naked. What harm could it do?

As the summer drew to a close, she began to masturbate when the drone flew over the fence. She wanted to put on a real show. But the week the pool closed for the season, she felt a strange emptiness. Like she missed it. Then the music came on, and she knew what she could do. She put on her bathing suit and knocked on his door.

"Do you want a new toy to play with?" she asked as she pulled the strings and allowed her top to fall off. "I promise to be very fun for you."

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