Atlan69 - Ich Komme Aus Schleswig Holstein

Sarah smiled as she took the glass.

“Aw, how sweet, Paul. I’m really glad you came, y’know.”

Paul watched as Sarah took a sip of the champagne. Then another. And another.

“It’s no problem, Sarah. You’re looking wonderful, as ever…”

Sarah blushed slightly. “Thank you!”

Paul motioned with his hand for her to take another sip. Sarah found herself doing so.

“I have a confession, though, Sarah. Well, two actually.”

Paul laid his hand over hers, and on the glass, pulling it down towards the table. Sarah understood, placing the champagne flute on the surface. She giggled as she felt his hand on the small of her back. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

“I’ve always wanted you, Sarah. I know you know that. I know you’ve flirted with me on and off over the years. But you never admitted you wanted me. So you teased me, and taunted me, and ended up marrying someone else. But that doesn’t change how I feel, does it? I still want you. I want you naked, on your knees, caressing your breasts and serving my cock until I burst all over your face, your tits, your hair…”

Paul was guiding Sarah away from the wedding reception now, far away to a private room down endless corridors. Sarah was wide-eyed - with fear, with anticipation, with arousal. Try as she might to move away, to resist…to at least protest, Sarah simply couldn’t.

“Confession two, Sarah. The champagne I gave you was drugged with a powerful psychotropic substance. One that dampens your will, and makes you totally and completely obedient to me. It’s also rather addictive. And I have a pure batch in my room. You’re going to take it, and I’m going to fuck you, Sarah. I’m going to claim you. I’m going to make you mine.”

Sarah whimpered as he led her inside his room.

“You’ll be addicted, Sarah, and you’ll love it. You’ll want others, your sexy friends, to join you, too. It’ll be our little secret, though, Sarah. I’ll let you go back to your husband, and your normal life. But you’ll always have that craving, that need, to submit to me…”

Sarah flopped onto the bed, defeated.

“Yes, Master.”

Hang in there. I’ll be right back

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Year of smut 156/365

Being a powerful superheroine with vocal powers was meaningless with a heavy leather gag and five inches of numbing agent coated dildo pushed into your throat; so Victoria Damon (AKA The Scarlet Siren) was learning. It was all her agent's fault, really. She'd been so convincing when she explaining the benefit to her secret identity's career as a singer and model of a risque shoot. Victoria had gone along, confident that any problem she ran into she could solve with her magic singing. The shoot had been both off-putting but strangely pleasureable. He'd kept shooting as he added strap after strap tighening her down until she couldn't move her body at all. Then, when she'd been distracted by the strange, new, pleasureable feelings, he slipped the dildo and gag into her mouth in a single sudden motion. She was still choking on it by the time the numbing agent had deadened her ability to sing. Then he'd dissappeared. For two hours. At first the spike of fear had cut through any arousal, but the tightness of the pose, combined with the memories of how erotic it was before she was gagged was starting to get her a touch squirmy.

When the bondage artist finally re-emerged, Victoria wasn't sure what was the scariest: that he was flanked by her smirking agent and an ultra rich super villain, that he was carrying a syringe loaded with a plastic surgery paralytic that would leave her unable to sing for months, or that she felt a pulse of arousal at seeing him return...

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