Cassandra took a seat at the corner table of the Shade Street Cafe near to the university from which she taught. She had much on her mind as she set up her small laptop on the gleaming beige surface; the upcoming semester, the classes she'd be teaching, the students, the faculty—she could hardly wait. She had so many plans, and she wanted to start them all at once.
For over a year, her life had descended into banal drudgery. Days and weeks blending into one another. Lectures. Meetings. Romances. Looking back, the memories seemed like a desaturated blur.
It had all changed two months ago. Two months since she had received a wonderful gift, a gift that had upended her outlook on life. It had changed the way she thought, changed the way she lived. That single gift had filled her with a passion for life she never thought imaginable.
A passion, and a deep, deep hunger.
As Cassandra sat there, typing up notes for her Introduction to Psychology course, the long, gentle tendrils of her power—invisible to the patrons and staff—snaked around the cozy café at a slow, languid pace. With the lightest, intangible caress, she could sense their thoughts. A business man considered his next corporate power play for that afternoon's board meeting. A student from the university pondered his upcoming classes as his eyes wandered over the thin, athletic form of the girl working the counter.
She sensed the boy's desire through those dark tendrils. It was something between a smell and a taste that was so new she had no word for it, but was as intoxicating as it was delicious. Cassandra savored the taste as she sipped her mocha, the two sensations mingling to draw a pleasured murmur from her full, red lips.
The boy was nice, but it was the girl barista's co-worker that was truly delectable. While the blonde, freckled girl rang up the businessman, the boy whipping up the drinks repeatedly cast his furtive gaze towards her. Cassandra watched as his eyes traced over the girl's petite body—her slim waist; her flat stomach; her ample bosom. His eyes hungered for her.
The heat between Cassandra's thighs was like a furnace. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine being so completely and thoroughly aroused. It was a state that never left her. As natural to her as breathing, the lust that roiled within was a part of her very soul.
Her creator. Her Patron. Her Mistress. She had taught her. Shown her. She had made Cassandra into a succubus; a being whose purpose was to feed on sexual energy and corruption. It had been so alien at first. So strange. But now, two months into her new existence, she couldn't imagine feeling any other way.
The lust didn't distract her. On the contrary, the deeper her arousal ran, the sharper her focus became. The more heightened her senses grew. And so, as she casually tapped away at her little laptop, her mind easily caressed and probed and whispered into the minds of the student and the barista.
Her power—like a warm bath—washed over them; soothing their minds and easing their tension. Ambiently, she fed off their mutual desire for the girl. Like a vampire bat, her tendrils licked up every naughty thought and desire rising from their minds. The boy in line struggled to hide his throbbing erection. The barista shuddered, nearly spilling the drink he was making.
And, also like a vampire bat, her dark touch ensured the debased sustenance she required continued to flow. Any lustful energy she drew away replenished twofold as she teased and excited their fantasies. With the skill of an accomplished surgeon, she cut open the deepest, darkest corners of their desires and then fed upon them.
Cassandra's thighs quavered lightly as she tasted their lust. Her fingers slid lightly down her lips as she let out a single, quivering breath. The sensation was like nothing she had ever felt; and, as always, she wanted more—needed more.
She felt the urge to reach down and stroke herself; to draw forth orgasms from the boys' minds, drink deep of the ensuing sensations, and truly sate her hunger. Instead, she took a long sip of her drink, letting the warmth spread through her as she closed her eyes and, for just a moment, let the world melt away.
When she opened them again, the student was trying to stammer his way through his order. His arousal was like a hot coal; his mind was muddled, his brow sweaty, and his pants were tenting in the most obscene manner. As Cassandra watched him, the tendrils of her power slithered over his skin.
The register shielded the girl from the lewder indications of the boy's attraction. She stood patiently, politely offering suggestions as the boy struggled to even remember what kind of establishment he was in, much less what he had intended to order.
Cassandra smiled to herself, curling a finger around a loose curl of raven hair. Finally, the boy mumbled out an order. The other barista, who Cassandra had used a lighter touch on, kept himself together well enough to fill the order; though the look on his face—a mixture of lust, yearning, embarrassment—was delightful.
She watched the boy pay for his order and uncomfortably shuffle his way towards the door. As he did, Cassandra pondered pushing deeper into his psyche. Of plunging her tendrils into the student's mind and marking him. Of hooking her influence deep inside him so that later, in the poor boy's dreams, she could really begin to play.
But Cassandra resisted the impulse. She felt him pull free of her tendrils as he walked down the street. In a few hours, he would be fine, though the cute barista would now take up a permanent place in his sexual fantasies.
Speaking of which...
Draining the last bit of her mug, Cassandra turned her attention to the sweet faced cafe girl. She was pouring out cups of coffee from a large carafe, oblivious to the dark eyes of the succubus staring into her.
The girl was stunning. Her tan skin and lithe frame spoke of a girl who loved the outdoors. Her narrow features and high cheekbones gave her a delicate look; the light freckles over her button nose invoked a cute innocence. Despite her slenderness, she sported ample curves with delightful swells in her chest and curves at her hips.
Her mind was eager and hopeful for her coming junior year at the college. She was a runner, a swimmer, a hiker. She was a lover of nature, music, and dance. Academics were not her strong suit, but her enthusiasm and passion carried her far.
And for it all, tasting her thoughts, Cassandra could sense the girl was unaware of her loveliness.
As Cassandra basked in this sweet girl's innocence—her pure love of life—she felt her loins ache. The thick, wet heat between her legs rose, and rose, and rose, sharpening her mind to a razor's edge.
Even as it happened, Cassandra could not help but muse on how strange it was. She had just fed, but in feeding, her hunger only intensified. It was like a pit that grew deeper the more you tried to fill it. And it felt good. Her rising lust only strengthened her. Intensified her power.
Her creator had said that their existence was a new thing. Very new. These things they had become—the power they somehow held and the cravings it gave them—were still evolving. Still rising.
The thing Cassandra was about to do, the acts her cravings led her to commit, were new. And yet they came to her as if by instinct. Like she had done them a million times.
Not for the first time, she sat in awe of what she was. Something no longer human. Something that was growing and changing and becoming more than she could have ever imagined.
As she watched the girl pour her coffee, Cassandra slid and caressed and soothed her, sending soft, almost imperceptible sensations through the girl's mind. She felt the girl's body—her arms; her neck; her shoulders—tremble lightly as a wide smile spread across her lips.
And all the while, her tendrils teased and prodded at her psyche. Looking for just the right place. Just the right fault through which Cassandra could slip through.
Casandra rose, taking her mug and setting in the return tray. She lightly pulled at the girl's mind as she approached the counter, drawing her towards her. Teasing her weak, untested mental defenses. The succubus lightly fingered the rim of her mug as the girl drew near, oblivious to her gentle probing.
"Hello again!" the girl said cheerfully. "You must have enjoyed the drink if you already want something else!"
Cassandra grinned coyly. "What can I say? I like sweet things."
The girl giggled; her eyes—wide and innocent—sparkled with mirth. "Well, I don't know what you're talking about, but I can have you another drink coming up!" she laughed, turning back to the barista.
One small crack. Then another. Tiny gaps opening into the sweet girl's mind.
Cassandra smiled. This was going to be so easy.
The girl returned to the bar with a fresh mocha; Cassandra leaned against the counter, chatting casually with the girl as she slid one thought into her subconscious. Then another.
This woman's voice... it's so... so nice...
Why can't I stop looking into this woman's eyes... at her... at her body? She's going to get the wrong idea...
The girl's eyes widened, her smile fading. A blush ran across her cheeks; her hand shook slightly—almost imperceptibly—as she reached for the drink.
Cassandra smiled, feeling the girl's thoughts unravel. Oh, god—her body is so beautiful; like she's made of silk—like she's made of honey—like she's made of sunshine—like she's made of stars—
Cassandra glanced down at the girl's name-tag. "Are you OK, Alicia? You seem a bit out of sorts."
Why am I getting so hot? This is... this is so strange. So strange. I don't understand what's happening to me. Why can't I stop thinking about her? What is wrong with me?
"I'm," she stammered. "I'm just... I should..."
I should touch myself.
Cassandra nodded; smiling to herself, she slipped a tendril of shadow deeper into the girl's mind. As she did, the girl's body quivered like a leaf in the wind.
What? No... I... No...
"Yes," Cassandra whispered, sliding a tendril of shadow between the girl's legs. "You should touch yourself." A tendril of shadow slipped between the girl's legs—down her stomach and thighs—caressing her, whispering promises of pleasure.
A whimper rose from the girl's throat. How did she... how is she... ooooh...
Cassandra slowly licked the whipped cream from her full, wet lips. She could feel the need rising in the barista's body. Could feel her subconscious buckling under the steady pressure of the succubus' desires—
"That's it," Cassandra whispered. "Just like that."
The girl's eyes glazed over as her breath came in soft gasps.
Cassandra felt the other Barista look their way, his face growing concerned. Her tendrils slid up his sides and around his head, forcing his attention away from the girl. Not yet, little boy, she thought as she pushed his mind away.
Alicia was moaning now, her hands gripping the counter tightly. Her breathing was ragged and fast. Her heart thundered like a drum in her chest. "Please," she whimpered. "What's happening..."
Cassandra grinned wickedly, sliding her hand over the girl's shoulder. "Go to the bathroom, little kitten. Find a stall. Do what it is you know you want to do."
Her fingers traced a pleasured trail along the girl's neck. "I'll be in to join you momentarily."
The girl nodded—too dazed to object; too overwhelmed to do anything but follow her instructions. As the girl walked away, Cassandra's lips curled into a sly smirk.
"Uh..." Evan said, rubbing the side of his head as he tried to focus on his coworker, on the girl that deeply held his attraction even before Cassandra began whispering into his mind. "Is she, is she all right?"
"Shhh," Cassandra said, placing a finger to her lips. "She'll be fine—I promise. Go take a break. I'll keep an eye on her."
Evan's brow furrowed. "Keep an eye on her? I'm not sure if... uh..."
As Cassandra exerted her will on the boy, his mouth went slack and his eyes glazed over. Cassandra reached over and pet his cheek lightly. "There. That's better."
The boy looked at Cassandra, his eyes glassy, unfocused. "I'll... be back in a few minutes," he mumbled, before walking away like a zombie.
The succubus tapped her chin lightly. She might have pushed on his mind harder than needed to. Taking a breath, she centered herself. It was no good getting carried away.
But when she could literally taste what the girl was doing to herself in her bathroom stall, how could she not?
Cassandra stepped out from behind the counter, making her way towards the bathroom. She stepped inside, reaching behind her to slide the lock closed on the bathroom door.
For a moment, Cassandra simply stood there, savoring every soft gasp and pleasured moan from the girl. Her voice was so desperate. So needy. Cassandra could feel the naughty thoughts roiling up from her subconscious. Lustful little seeds sprouting into devilish vines of carnal desire—each wrapping round and round the girl's innocent little mind, driving forth her need for pleasure.
Preparing her—body and mind—for what Cassandra intended for her.
She placed her hand against the stall door. "Hello there, Alicia. Your voice is quite lovely in there. Why don't you let me join you?"
The girl let out a little whimper. "Please, go away. I... I don't know what's wrong with m-me. I—aaaah!"
The door blocked Cassandra, but her shadowy will flowed under and over the door easily enough. The dark tendrils found the poor barista's body, running over her flesh and playing her pleasure nerves like the strings on a violin.
"Oooh, there's nothing wrong with you, Alicia. Nothing wrong at all. Let's see you, shall we? I want to see what delightful little things you're doing to yourself..."
Closing her eyes, Cassandra focused a portion of her will up and around the other side of the door. She never would have even bothered attempting this before, but with having freshly fed off the two boys from earlier and with her lust sharpening her focus to a razor edge, she felt inclined to try.
She pushed her power outward, towards a direction she could not truly grasp but understood nonetheless. The act of will hurt at first, drawing a sharp pain from her mind; but the pain quickly gave way as a single black, slimy tendril—the literal embodiment of her power, her soul—pushed into reality. With a sharp gasp of triumph, Cassandra pulled upon the lock on the door before the tendril dissolved back into that strange non-space her power resided in. The succubus shook with delight as she pushed open the stall door with a light nudge of her finger.
The barista was sitting on the toilet seat; her legs spread wide, her skirt hiked up to her waist, and her fingers deep in her wet, dripping sex.
Cassandra drank in the girl with her eyes. Her sweat dappled face. Her smooth, creamy thighs. Nipples hardened to nubs against her shirt. And her cute, fuzzy little pussy, lips swollen and red—glistening with need.
Cassandra let out a slow, wicked chuckle as she moved to stand over the girl. "There we are. Just you and me now, Alicia. Nice, and cozy, and intimate."
The girl whimpered; her fingers moving faster inside her sex. "Oh god," she gasped.
Her dark, ethereal tendrils wound around the girl, unseen by her, but most certainly felt. Fear and confusion fought for purchase against the rolling waves of pleasure flooding her mind.
"What's happening to me?" she moaned.
"I'm showing you how good you can feel. How good I can make you feel."
Cassandra sighed before continuing. "I'll be honest, Alicia. This wasn't how I planned to spend my morning. But I'm afraid I... well," she reached forward, lightly caressing the girl's slick sex before licking her lovely nectar from her fingers. "I just couldn't help myself."
The barista tried to stop her movements, tried to control herself, but could only manage to slow her pleasuring fingers. And even then, only for a brief moment. "I... Hnngg... I don't understand..."
"Oh, sweetie. You don't need to." With delicate movements, she pulled open the girl's psyche, slipping more and more of herself down into her mind. She carefully hooked into the girl's thoughts—into the pulsing, pleasure flooded neurons in her brain.
Cassandra heard her own breath coming slow and deep, working to keep control. To maintain her restraint. Looking into her mind, she could see how easy it would be to move too quickly or go too deep. How simply she could simply tear out the girl's mind and pour her own will into the hollow left behind.
But while a mindless fuck puppet could feed her easily enough, it was a meager thing. It lacked the delectable notes when depraved lust came seasoned with all the other delicious emotions of the human mind. Yearning. Desire. Submission. Corruption. Love.
Cassandra's mouth watered at the thought.
Her own sex aching, yearning to take the girl, the demon forced herself to calm. "This is all a sweet, delectable dream, Alicia," she said, her lips drawing close to the girl's ear. "You needn't worry. You needn't resist..."
She rooted the thought into the girl's mind, letting it snake its little tendrils through her brain—a warm glow spreading like fire; a gentle tickle of pleasure and comfort. "Just relax and enjoy yourself."
With a one hand, Cassandra nimbly opened the buttons of the girl's blouse and pulled down the cups of the girl's bra, exposing her beautiful globes. Her caressing tendrils—their tips kissing and sucking on her tender nipples—had already left the soft flesh sensitized, leaving her whole body shook.
The succubus beamed; the expression sending ripples of pleasure through the girl's body. "That's right, sweetie. Just let go."
"I... but..." the girl strained, but the implanted thoughts were already draining away her fear, eroding her resistance. "Oh.... Oooh..."
Just a dream... this is just a dream...
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck!"
A delightful, wet little dream...
Alicia's hips began to buck; her hands clutched at the wall, pulling hard on the tiled floor. A low cry of pure pleasure escaped her lips as her body tensed and her mind slipped further under Cassandra's will.
"Just give in."
"Let all those naughty little thoughts in your head blossom into a beautiful field of pleasure; a lovely flowerbed of depraved need." As she spoke, Cassandra gently pressed her palm to the barista's sex, her fingers sliding along the folds of the girl's pussy and pressing against her clit.
The girl's fingers continued to pump into herself, now without reservation; without fear—her whole being focused on the pleasure flooding her body through her throbbing channel. The sound it made was an intoxicating melody that Cassandra's fingers danced to along the girl's clit, making Alicia cried out, her hips thrusting harder and faster into her hand.
She stared into the girl's desperate eyes. "Do you want to cum for me, Alicia?"
Alicia's lovely, glistening body involuntarily jerked at the question. "Y-yes. P-please..."
"Do you want to surrender completely to me in this lovely little dream?"
"Yes!" The girl's eyes went wide; her breathing ragged. "Ooooh god—yes!"
Cassandra leaned down, her lips hovering over Alicia's. She whispered the words, "Then cum for me, sweetie," then pressed into her lips.
A shuddering moan rose from the girl's throat as she surrendered to the pleasure coursing through her body. Her hands clutched at Cassandra's back as she arched into her, her entire form tensing as her climax full upon her like a crashing wave.
Cassandra felt the girl's mind crumble beneath the ecstasy flowing through her, the sensations amplified repeatedly by the demon's influence over her body. She could feel the pleasure burning connections into her brain, could see her sweet, innocent nature entwined again and again by the dark, binding vines of lust Cassandra had sown into her mind.
She saw her pleasure, so delicious. So inviting. But she resisted the urge to feed. She tasted only lightly, just enough to stimulate and extend the orgasm that was sending wave after wave of mind warping pleasure through her.
Our dreams can shape us, she whispered into the girl's mind as she continued to kiss her, as her tongue danced along hers, coating her mouth with demonically sensitizing saliva. They can change who we are.
Alicia's eyes fluttered as she held onto Cassandra, as her body pushed into her, pushed like she was trying to melt into her. There was no thought from the girl, the soul-deep waves of pleasure having washed it all away. She ran her dark power through the barista's mind, the fell orgasm rendering it soft and pliable as clay.
You will not remember this lovely dream. This piece of heaven of I have given you. When this lovely climax ends, it will fade from your mind. But your body will remember, your body will crave—you will ache for my touch. My kiss. My love.
Alicia moaned; her hips pushing into Cassandra's body like she was trying to climb inside. Cassandra grabbed her by the sides, letting Alicia grind her cunt into her leg.
Your body will yearn to obey. Every act of obedience will fill you with pleasure, each granting more than the last. Your naughty little body will teach you—act by act—to crave me. To love me. To worship me.
With loving care, Cassandra molded Alicia's mind, making the words true. Made them real.
You will be mine.
With a groan, the girl's body shuddered, her nails digging into Cassandra's back as she came again.
Cassandra broke the kiss, tiny lines of her lust-blessed saliva connecting their tongues. With a wicked smile, she watched the girl collapse back on the toilet seat like rag doll; her body still shaking from the aftershocks of her orgasm.
The succubus pressed her finger lightly on the girl's nose. The girl's eyes fluttered closed, and Cassandra stepped back, smiling at the unconscious girl. "That was so much fun—you've been such a good girl today. Now, dream, my little kitten. Dream, and prepare yourself for me."
Alicia leaned against the counter, tapping her foot absently as Even gesticulated his way through another story. "So then, Allen came all the way back down the trail and with this horrified look on his face said to me, 'All we brought were the marshmallows!'"
She chuckled lightly, more at the funny look on Evan's face than at his story. Her friend had been on a hiking kick for days now, and had insisted on telling her about every one of them.
"You got to come with us on the next one, Alicia," he said, pushing a lock of wavy brown hair out of his face. "They're a total blast!"
Alicia opened her mouth to speak, but paused as her mind shifted to the sudden lewd image of Even, naked and bound with has hands behind his back. She saw herself standing before him, her shorts and panties pulled down, holding her friend's hair and grinding herself against his mouth.
She coughed, covering her mouth and turning away to hide her blushing face.
"Woah, are you all right, Alicia?"
"Yup," she said, coughing some more. "I'm fine!"
Just thinking of ways to make you shut up about the stupid hiking stories...
The thought rose in her mind as intrusively as the obscene image did, and she found herself laughing, despite herself.
"Sorry," she said, turning to see the look of concern on her friend's face. "Just... eh, been in a weird mood lately?"
"Yeah," Evan said, nodding. "I think I know what you mean. Think it's pre-semester jitters?"
Alicia pictured herself pulling Evan's face back by his hair right as she came, squirting all over his silly face. She kept from blushing this time, but couldn't stop the weird heat from rising between her legs.
"Yeah. Maybe," she said, looking away.
Thankfully, some customers were lining up, allowing her to get her mind off her own thoughts. She'd been having these obscene fantasies pop up repeatedly over the past several days. She didn't get it. Those kinds of things didn't even remotely interest her. She'd never even had anyone go down on her before.
Alicia bit her lip, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks again. She didn't even know what 'squirting' was until she looked it up after it showed up in her head.
She wasn't a sexual person. She wasn't asexual or anything. There had been some experimenting with boyfriends and stuff, but it just wasn't something she thought about much. She had always been more interested in her studies and sports and stuff like that.
She watched the two people walk away from the counter to get their drinks, then shook her head to push away the lingering image of Evan's face covered in her juices, his cock nice and hard.
What was wrong with her?
The bell above the door jingled, and she glanced over to see who had come in. When she did, it was like her heart skipped a beat.
A woman was standing there; tall and elegant, wearing a black blouse and tight black skirt. Her raven hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her dark blue eyes seemed almost radiant.
And, just like that, it was like the images in her head calmed down. It was only then, as they slid away, that she realized how many there had been—how many had been just... playing ambient in her mind without her ever realizing it.
"How are you doing, Alicia?" the woman asked, her voice smooth and rich like honey.
How does she know my name, she thought, a strange discomfort rising in her gut.
It doesn't matter, she thought almost immediately, as if from some other voice inside her.
It didn't matter.
Alicia smiled at the regal-looking woman and said, "How may I serve you?"
At the word 'serve' Alicia felt her entire body heat up.
"Hmmm," the woman said, a long, crimson nailed finger pressing against her lips. "I do love sweet things." Her smile widened. "Bring me something sweet, Alicia."
Alicia felt her face flush, lightly. A grin slid across her face that she couldn't control. "Sure thing!" she said. "Anything else?"
"Not yet," the raven haired woman said coyly.
Evan frowned as Alicia made the drinks. "There's something off about that woman. Do you," he hesitated. "Do you remember her being here before?"
Alicia paused, searching her memory even as her hands worked to fill the woman's order. It felt very important to obey—obey?—to get her order just right.
"I... I don't think so, no," she said, but couldn't shake the butterflies fluttering just under her stomach.
Her body tingled as she brought the drink—a caramel macchiato—to the counter and handed it to the woman. She took the drink, her poised stance like an immaculate statue. Alicia realized she was holding her breath as the lovely woman took a sip from the cup.
"Mmmm," she said, licking the foam from her lips. "Perfect. Good girl, Alicia."
A soft gasp slipped out Alicia's lips as a sudden wave of pleasurable sensations rolled its way through her body. Satisfaction. Pride. Delight. All mixed with a soothing warmth that sent her eyes rolling up.
"Oh. Oooh. Wha..." she said, her hands pressing against the counter for balance.
The woman watched her, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Amusement, and something else.
Whatever it was, though, Alicia didn't care. She'd never felt so good serving someone in her life. "Th-thank you, Ms.... Miss... Misstr..."
Another word than the one she meant played on her lips, and Alicia shuddered at the pleasure her body promised as the word struggled to form.
"Ah, ah," the woman tutted. "Not just yet." She extended her hand, and between her fingers was a card. Half dazed from the pleasant sensations running through her, Alicia took the card. It read, 'Casandra, Professor of Psychology.'
"With the semester starting soon, I've been looking for someone to..." her sly grin widened a fraction. "...serve as an assistant. I'm curious. Would you be interested, Alicia? In... assisting me?"
Alicia swallowed hard. Her body was still thrumming from the sensation of serving the woman. "You... you mean, like a TA or something?"
The woman laughed, her voice like smoky honey. "No, Alicia. Not like a TA."
Finally, Alicia nodded, her fingers closing around the card. "Uh... sure. I'll, I'll think about it."
"Wonderful, Alicia." The woman's eyes glimmered as she brought the drink again up to her lips. "I'll see you soon."
Alicia didn't realize how hard her heart was beating until the woman had gone. Hadn't noticed Evan had moved near till she heard his voice beside her. "That woman... That was really weird. Is she... is she really a professor? Because—"
"I'll be right back," Alicia said, turning abruptly and walking into the bathroom. Inside, she locked the door. Locked the stall, her hands shaking all the while.
Not with fear, though. With excitement. With need.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck!" the words came out like a mantra as Alicia slid back on the closed toilet seat, pulling her shirt up to feel her sensitive breasts with one hand, sliding her skirt down to find her needy, slick sex with the other.
"Fuck! Yes, yes, yes!" she cried out, pushing her hand between her thighs—into her soaked panties.
Her body arched and trembled as she rubbed her clit with her middle finger. She moaned as the pressure built; it felt right. It felt perfect.
She fantasized about fucking Evan. Of degrading and dominating the brown-haired little pretty boy. She imagined him naked, kneeling at her feet, his cock bobbing like a begging puppy in front of her. She imagined forcing him to lick her pussy clean while she laughed at his humiliation—and then, when she was ready, she'd bend him over the counter and fuck him in the ass with a strap on; make him beg for more.
"God! What the fuck was wrong with me?!" she hissed, unable to comprehend how she had missed this. How she had not known how good this could feel, how hot these dark fantasies were.
The woman. Alicia felt the woman's eyes on her in the fantasies. Guiding her. Directing her. Instructing her. She plunged her fingers deep inside herself as she imagined serving her. Obeying her. Worshiping her.
Her eyes screwed shut as she fingered her sopping pussy. She moaned, "Fuuuck! Misstress! Mistress! Tell me what to do!"
The words echoed from her throat, echoed in her mind, each time becoming louder—more desperate. More needy.
"Mistress!" she screamed; and then came. She didn't care who heard. Evan, the other customers. Who gave a shit? Her tight channel clamped on her fingers as her other hand groped herself.
She thought of the card—her Mistress's card—on the bathroom floor somewhere now. It didn't matter. Its contents were burned in her mind.
A lewd smile spread across her face as her throbbing channel milked her fingers; and she knew that this was only the beginning. The beginning of a new and wonderful journey. With her Mistress. Her Goddess.