Release With Permission
Brandon arrived with his pulse already pounding.
He hadn’t touched himself in two weeks. Not since Licious last filled his mouth and ass, marking him twice and sending him home hard, aching, and obedient. He followed her instructions to the letter: no stimulation, no rubbing, no relief.
Every night he’d lay in bed and press the base of the plug in just enough to feel her.
And now… tonight… she’d promised him release.
But not one he’d ever known.
She opened the door in a satin corset and thigh-high boots, lips painted in a deep plum that made his knees wobble.
“Welcome back, pet.”
He inhaled sharply. Her place was already hazy with cannabis smoke and candlelight. A chilled bottle of water with a pink label sat on the table.
“Take two sips.”
He obeyed, already knowing it was molly, just like before. The warmth spread faster this time, probably because of how badly he needed to feel her.
“Good boy,” she purred. “Follow me.”
Tonight, she didn’t take him to the bedroom.
She took him straight into the dungeon.
It was darker than usual—only red spotlights illuminating the room. Soft ambient music throbbed low and slow, matching the rhythm in his chest.
On the wall: a sling. Leather restraints. A mirror positioned perfectly.
“Strip,” she said softly.
He obeyed.
Plug still in place. Hard, but untouched.
“You’ve been a very good boy,” she murmured, circling him. “You haven’t cum. You haven’t disobeyed. And tonight, you’ll earn your reward…”
He looked up.
Her eyes sparkled. “But only from my cock and my hands. Not yours.”
He shivered.
She bent him over the sling and removed the plug slowly, licking her lips as his hole pulsed open for her.
Then she rimmed him.
Long, deep strokes of her tongue that had him moaning into the leather cushion. She worked him loose with practiced precision, adding lube, murmuring praises.
“You were made to be used like this.”
Then came the poppers.
She waved the bottle under his nose.
“Breathe.”
He inhaled. His world tilted. His body melted.
She lubed up and pressed her cock against him. Brandon whimpered as her thick, uncut cock spread him open again.
She pushed in slowly, inch by inch, until she was balls deep and fully seated.
“You’re not allowed to touch your cock,” she said, voice husky. “But tonight… I’m going to make you cum anyway.”
The rhythm she fucked him with was different—not punishing, but hypnotic.
Slow, deep, precise.
Her hands explored his back, his hips, his chest. She grabbed his hair. Whispered filth in his ear.
“You want to cum just from my cock?”
“Yes, Goddess,” he moaned.
“You want to be ruined?”
“Yes…”
Her pace intensified, perfectly timed with the rising swell of the music, the glow of the molly, the low burn of weed.
Every nerve in his body felt like it was vibrating.
And then—
It happened.
His body locked.
His toes curled.
And his cock pulsed without being touched.
He cried out—a strangled, broken sound—as ropes of cum spilled onto the leather below.
Hands-free.
Uncontrolled.
Unforgettable.
Licious didn’t stop.
She fucked him through the orgasm, hips grinding hard and deep, until she let out a guttural moan and spilled inside him.
Her cum oozed around her shaft, mixing with his, dripping down his thighs.
She stayed inside him, both of them panting, pressed together like puzzle pieces.
“You did it,” she whispered. “You’re mine now. Completely.”
He could barely breathe. But he smiled into the leather.
“I was always yours, Goddess.”
To be continued…
