Louis stood there between the armchair and the rumbling fireplace, feeling unbelievably awkward. Sitting down felt like a recipe for disaster—her joke about sitting in his lap, delivered in such syrupy sweetness, echoed in his mind—but standing felt weird and rude. It made it seem like he was just waiting for an excuse to leave.

Which he was. But he didn't want Noelle to feel bad about it.

He watched her flip the record, and soft, crackly Christmas music started playing again, harmonizing with the crackling of the fire. She flashed him a smile. He nervously smiled back.

Noelle came back over to him. Te’d thought for a moment that she was heading to the kitchen, but then her hand was back on his shoulder, and she was pushing him, gently, but firmly...

“Down,” she said, mock-annoyed. “Sit. I'll take care of this.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek, but didn’t get back up this time.

Noelle made her way to the kitchen. He heard a cabinet door open, then the clink of glass on the countertop, and then something being poured.

Was she seriously…?

Louis clenched his fists. Bad idea. Bad idea. He needed to get himself together. Ignoring his racing heartbeat, he pulled out his phone and started fumbling for the rides app. His fingers felt like they were barely listening to his brain right now. Maybe his fingers were numb from the cold.

He had a whole bunch of notifications, apparently. Texts from the others, including seven from Natalia, that were presumably those last-minute cancellations Noelle had mentioned. He swept the notifications aside and opened the app. His head was buzzing. God damn it, why did it have to load so slowly? And why was the text so… blurry?

He suddenly felt Noelle pressing in next to him. He hadn't even heard her return. Her heat radiated against his skin, and her voice was soft as she learned down close.

“It's bad out there,” she purred, and with a single deft motion, she plucked the phone from his hand and replaced it with his old mug, steaming with freshly poured hot chocolate.

“H-Hey!”

She flicked her head to the window with a sly smile. “Nobody's going to drive you in a storm like this, Louis.”

“What storm?”

“Uh-huh.” She moved around so she could smile down at him, her form silhouetted by the glowing hearth. “Why put yourself and some poor gig worker in danger on Christmas Eve?”

He tried to keep his eyes on hers. “I could walk.”

“What, with that thin coat?” She laughed at him, her expression shifting from playful to condescending in the blink of an eye. “You'd freeze before you made it out of my driveway. Just a stiff little icicle.”

“You could lend me a coat.” Louis was starting to get frustrated. No, pissed. He didn't like being made fun of like this. It felt weirdly hard to focus on being angry—maybe it was the lingering buzz of the chocolate—but it was definitely starting to get to him.

“Oh, yeah?” Noelle smirked. “Wearing my clothes?”

“That's... not what I—”

“You know, there's easier ways to get my perfume all over you.”

Louis felt his face go red-hot. She was very, very close, and her perfume—mixed with the chocolatey sweetness of the drink—suffused the air around him. Everything smelled wonderful, and he knew he shouldn't enjoy it, but his head felt like it was full of cotton, and…

“I would… like my phone back now,” he said, trying to make his voice firm. He had to at least insist on this much. Noelle might be a little buzzed, but so was he, and he wasn't being nearly such an asshole. As much as he was starting to like Noelle, she was definitely starting to get on his nerves. It was past time to put his foot down.

Noelle just laughed.

Louis stared at her.

For a moment, he didn't know what to say.

He watched her tuck the phone into the back pocket of her tight jeans, and then it was gone. Her hand touched his and gently closed both his hands around the mug. Everything felt… soft. Squishy. Fuzzy.

Numb.

He blinked rapidly. Blinking helped him jolt his senses a bit, but there were diminishing returns. And when he was focusing on trying to think clearly again, she was doing things, she was blazing right past him…

“There's no way home,” Noelle was cooing, “and you clearly want to stay.” He tried to object, but her eyes were on him, piercing, sparkling, and his lips fumbled over the first syllable. “I can see it in your eyes, you know. I'm good at reading people. Your eyes are like starlight. Beautiful and open. Glassy.”

Staring into her eyes was like... like staring at the only motionless thing in a world that wouldn't stop spinning. They shimmered, sparkled, endless forests that promised countless unsolvable mysteries within.

Louis's mouth was dry.

“Gosh, you’re just spellbound by me, aren’t you?”

Her arrogance prickled at his nerves again, and he finally managed to tear his gaze away, force his eyes down into his lap. But without her eyes to focus him, everything felt like it was spinning. His head swam. He tried to ground himself, to center his attention on something in front of him... and his vision settled on the mug.

“Hey,” he whispered, though his tongue felt leaden in his mouth, “what's... in this drink?”

He looked up at Noelle.

She smiled. “Hot chocolate.”

He hadn't drank any yet. He felt... he felt drugged, but he'd only had two mugs, and he'd seen her pour both, seen her pour her own. She'd had just as much as him, if not more, so she couldn't possibly have drugged him, but he still felt so… so…

Noelle reached over and plucked off his hat, then leaned across him—giving him a deep eyeful of her tits—to unspool his scarf. “Gosh, you know, you have such pretty hair! You should show it off more.”

“I... uh...” He was blushing. No. Wrong emotional reaction. This wasn’t flirting, this was—this was crossing lines, this was being pushy, she was being an arrogant asshole—

“You don't mind if I sit with you, do you?” Her tone was silken and smooth, filled to overflow with unbearable, insufferable confidence.

He wanted to say no. No. No.

But by the time the thought made it to his tongue and started to form the word—such a simple word, but so exhausting to say all of a sudden—Noelle had already sat down. Her soft, warm curves squished against his, and hard as he tried to press against the other side of the chair, her heat was inescapable. He could barely at least keep her from being totally on top of him if he pressed far to the right and kept his hands in his lap and… but her scent was still all over him…

No. He had to say no. It was just one stupid fucking word!

But then her breath tickled his ear. “Mind if I move in closer?”

This was such a bad idea. He needed to speak up. He needed to at least try to push back on this. He wanted to at least be able to tell himself he'd done… something.

But Noelle was pouting up at him, so pretty, so breathtakingly, angelically cute with those painted cherry-red lips. Her eyes shimmered with excitement, but also… those had to be the faintest specks of insecurity, didn't they? He was sure he could see that. She couldn't just be pure narcissist. This had to be scary for her, too, right? He willed himself to see that vulnerable side of her.

He didn't want to leave Noelle humiliated. He just had to... had to manage her insecurities a little bit in how he handled this.

“No,” he managed at last. His voice sounded slurred. Was it slurred? “I... the answer is no, Noelle. I appreciate the welcome, I really do, and you're... you're really, really, um, n-nice, and… but I h-have to go.”

“But look at the window,” she purred, scooting in closer despite his words, “at that storm. It's lucky you dropped in. It's bad out there. So be good and stay put.”

He managed to turn and look out the window, as directed, but all he could see was darkness. But Noelle had looked earlier, hadn't she?

“Be good,” she whispered in his ear. And he felt her sliding in closer.

Closer.

And right into his lap.

His heart stopped. Then it started pounding in his chest like a drum. He turned back to Noelle as she wriggled into place. His eyes widened. Oh, fuck. Oh… fuck.

“G-Get off,” he squeaked. He could barely trust his own voice. It was all he could do not to drop the mug. She was so warm, so soft, so…

Noelle just smiled, her eyes glimmering in the darkness of the fading firelight like a cat's eyes in the dark. “Help me do it.”

His anxiety mounted into panic. He tried to set the mug on the table so he could push her off, but Noelle blocked him, kept his hands in hers, and he didn't want to spill steaming hot chocolate everywhere...

“Wait.” He tried to say something more, but it was like his voice and his mind weren't fully connected, like his body wasn't obeying him, and everything was spinning, twirling, revolving around her...

“Make me,” Noelle purred. She rocked her hips against him. “You've already kept a girl waiting so long.”

Her ass wriggled, sending tingles of sweet, toxic pleasure through his whole body. He felt his traitorous cock starting to throb.

“S-Stop it,” he whispered. “Noelle, I d-don't...” His words were slurred. Garbled. Like he was drugged. How could he be drugged?

“You do,” she cooed, and ground her ass right against his throbbing cock. “Ask me how I know~”

“Nnngh!” He bit his lip to hold in a truly pathetic moan. Her heat felt like it was pulsing into him. He felt so sensitive, and yet he could barely move, and his head felt so... “N-Noelle, I... p-please, I wuh—won't tell a-a-anyone—” He let out a cry as she grinned and bounced slightly. “B-But I—you can't, this isn't—”

Still holding his hands, she forced them up to his parted lips and tipped the mug back. His words were lost in a choked gurgle. He had to swallow to keep from choking, and she knew that, had to guzzle down the sweet, intoxicating drink. But... no, no, he already felt like he was going to pass out, he hadn't seen her pour this...

It tasted wonderful. That was the worst part. He couldn't move away, and the hot chocolate... fuck, and her ass grinding in his lap... He kept gulping it down, forced to be as docile as a lamb, and the spinning got worse and worse.

“N-Noelle…” he whimpered, as she finally, cheerfully lowered the now half-empty mug, “... this…this is crossing a serious line!”

Noelle made him set the mug down, then gripped his hands tighter and pulled them down. Down behind herself, down to cup her indulgent bubble butt.

She leaned in close. Mint was everywhere. He could barely breathe, barely... barely keep track of...

“You,” she said sweetly, as if instructing a confused child, “don't have any lines for me, sweetie.”

“W-Wh—” Something in his brain felt soft. “I—N-Noelle, I'm, if you don't stop, it’s—I'll—”

“Yes?” She tilted her head in an cruel imitation of innocent cuteness as she ground her ass against his captive cock. She forced a moan out of him. “What is it? What're you gonna do, baby?”

“I'll... t-tell them...” He was drooling, he faintly realized, and licked his lips. It was like whatever body part he wasn't actively focused on just... just did whatever came naturally...

... he was staring at her tits again.

“... what you did,” he finished, his voice barely a sigh.

And Noelle laughed. This laugh wasn’t playful. This was that insufferable, entitled, arrogant laugh he’d always known her best for.

“Yeah? You will?” She kissed on on the cheek. He could feel the mark her lipstick left behind. “You'll tell them aaaall the terrible things I did to you?”

Her luscious lips brushed his ear. Her tits were right in his face, practically smothering him. There wasn't enough air.

“Or the terrible things you did to me?~”

“N-No,” he whispered. “I-I mean, Noelle, I...”

“Baby,” she cooed in his ear, “look down.”

His eyes drifted down.

He was gripping her ass. His hands were slowly rocking her against his... oh, fuck, it felt so...

Everything felt like it was in slow-motion, but he forced his hands still. Before he could pull them away, though, she was tipping his chin back up, and his eyes were back on hers.

In hers.

“Don't you see, baby?” she cooed, her eyes bright and alert, with not a trace of drunken glaze to be found. Her ass rocked against his cock, soft heat rubbing along his length, so hot and heavy. “You won't be telling anyone.”

Her eyes were beautiful. But he could suddenly see a predatory glint in there. A hunger. A merciless desire.

Through his numbed state as he unthinkingly groped her curvy ass, he felt something. There was… a bulge back there? Like… there was something tucked into her waistband, between her skirt and her panties.

Something rectangular.

She moved a moment later, grinding until his thoughts felt like a sticky paste. Louis was so out of it, his brain moved slower than an old beaten engine, and the realization hit him like a series of sluggish waves. Rectangular. A bulge. A wallet? No, a phone.

The phone.

His phone.

His breath caught, but he fought to conceal his reaction from her. He had to get it out. He could hold down the power and volume buttons, and it would dial 911 automatically. That was... that was what he had to do, right?

His fingers clumsily slipped under her skirt as she kept wiggling, trying to find the phone again, to grab it without her noticing.

“Oh~” Noelle giggled. Her breasts bounced before his eyes. “Is someone already trying to undress me? Gosh, you're so eager!”

She rocked forward, and suddenly the phone was in reach. With numb fingers, he searched for the buttons… pressed down the power button, found the volume…

And yet despite everything, the implication, when it registered, made his cheeks burn hot. “I-I'm not!”

“Shush. Say no more.” Her eyes gleamed, and her hands lowered to her hips, and her hips raised, and... no no no no, he had both buttons down, he just needed one more second—

Noelle swung her hips, and her skirt melted to the floor like it was never there. The phone fell from his reach and landed with a soft thud.

As one last insult to his last, desperate hope, she kicked the skirt away and gave him a grin.

Had... had she known? All along?

That thought was cut short a moment later as Noelle bounced her hips along his cock, her smooth skin now rubbing directly against his still-clad cock, her slickness obvious through her lacy red panties, and he couldn't hold in his cries of pleasure anymore. No. No. He couldn't be... he couldn't let himself...

Throb.

Noelle licked her lips.

“P-People will notice I'm gone,” he squeaked. He wasn’t sure if the words even made it out, though. His mouth felt like it was full of feathers. So did his head.

Noelle leaned in closer. Her lips glistened, such a pretty shade of red. Dimly, he wondered how they would taste.

She kept rocking against him. Slow. Steady. Milking the resistance out of him. The air might as well have been made of corn syrup. He couldn't even keep his arms on her anymore. Couldn't move. Could barely breathe.

All he could do was feel.

And squirm.

And throb.

“You'll freeze out there, little boy,” she murmured. Her lips brushed his in the most tantalizing almost-kiss. “So stay here and stay warm with me.”

“I... n-nuh, I...”

And she kissed him.

Pure molten pleasure flowed into him the second her lips met his. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe it was that Noelle had years of experience doing this to people, breaking them down with just her lips, melting their worries and taking their thoughts away. The fantasies swirled through his mind where thoughts had once been, and his cock throbbed, desperate, needy.

Her lips were as soft as pillows, as sweet as honey. They smacked wetly, sloppily, stickily, and her tongue slipped inside, wet and dextrous as it toyed with his, and his thoughts just seemed to...

... soften.

Dissolve.

Melt.

Leak.

Noelle moaned against him, her voice filling his head, making him throb with need. Her tongue slid in and out between his lips, penetrating him, claiming him. He moaned back, helplessly leaning in, bucking against her softness with what little strength he had left.

She shoved him back against the chair, pinning him, grinding, rocking, covering him with kisses, the wet mwah of her lips scattering his thoughts like stones thrown into a puddle.

She sucked on his upper lip. Nibbled. Licked. Sighed and clutched him tightly, captured him.

He was in no state to escape.

Why... why would he want to escape...?

With one last wet smack, their lips parted. A thin trail of saliva dangled after Noelle as she pulled back and smiled triumphantly down at him. He found himself smiling stupidly back.

“Delicious~” she cooed.

Awareness sank back into him, and Louis's dumb, dreamy mind prickled as the fear began to return. He stared up at Noelle, whimpering as she wriggled and rocked against him.

“P-Please,” he whimpered, long past the point of threats and demands, reduced all the way to pathetically begging, “please d-don't…w-why are you...” His words broke into a moan as Noelle bounced in his lap, her tits bouncing, her asscheeks sandwiching his captive, drooling cock. She giggled, cooed condescendingly as if to an infant. He kept trying to recover his words, but she just kept bouncing, kept grinding, until at last he could barely remember what he'd even been saying for the unholy ecstasy coursing through him, until all he could do was throb and drool and whimper and whine.

The last song on the record drew to a close, and the record player’s static crept to a halt. For a moment, the only sounds in the house were the soft creaking of the chair, Noelle's and his gasps from exertion—Noelle was slick with sweat, her musk and perfume filled his lungs—and the fading crackle of the dying fire.

Noelle's eyes glittered in the dim light.

“Because,” she said sweetly, punctuating each word with an indulgent grind. “You. Want. It.”

He opened his mouth to object.

She covered his mouth with a hand, gagging him.

“MMmmf!” He strained, squirmed, but his muscles had gone totally limp. Everything in him was buzzing. His vision was getting fuzzy.

“Shut up,” she said, with a bubbly little giggle. “I know what you want, baby. Better than you ever could. And you want this so bad. You neeeeed it.” As she drew out the word, she pulled back, then slowly ran her luscious thighs directly along his shaft's length, from tip to base and back again.

“MMMMFF!”

She laughed at him. “That's right, baby! Silly little boys like you need their Mommies, don't they?”

His eyes widened. He couldn't say anything, couldn’t deny it, couldn’t—

His cock gave a slow, desperate throb.

Noelle's eyes lit up. “Oh, I knew it!” she crowed. “I can aaaalways tell. That's right, baby.” Her voice lowered to a sickeningly sweet coo. “And soon you’ll understand that only Mommy can really make you happy.”

“Nn... nnmfhggh...”

“Gosh, I'm so good at clocking littles.” She bounced from side to side, and her massive tits bounced with her. “I knew all that brattiness towards me over the years had to be covering something up. Hey, remember that time I killed your dumb quest-giving NPC, and you told me the world doesn't revolve around me?”

Humiliation pounded through his whole body. Pulsed. Throbbed. Fuck...

Noelle leaned in close, put a hand under each breast, and bounced them right in his face, soft, jiggling, full. “Yours is about to~”

She'd released his mouth. He swallowed, trying not to drool, trying to remember... words...

“N-Natalia will know,” he slurred. “She—she knnnew somethin’… up, she w-warned me...”

“Aww~!” Noelle started bouncing and grinding faster again, and his words gave way to insensible moans of pleasure. “That's so cute! I always forget you two are such good friends. I guess it makes sense.”

The pleasure was too much. It was everything. It was everywhere, and he'd never even... not with anyone, and now it was going to be Noelle, awful, abusive, manipulative, narcissistic, seductive, sexy, curvy Noelle...

“Yeah, Tali—I call her Tali, I think it's cuter—threw a little bit of a tantrum last year.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “And she told enough people that something was wrong that I haven't been able to really take her back.”

She leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

“Publicly.”

Shivers traveled up and down his spine at her soft, wispy voice.

“See, even sweet little church girl Tali slips up, baby,” she said sweetly. “And she’s been praying under My desk every Sunday morning since August.”

He was trembling. He couldn't stop himself from moaning as she ground her hips against him. Fuck, it felt so good, he just couldn't... couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't fight...

“Maybe you can join us next week~”

Over ten seconds of steady rocking, the full meaning of her words sank in deep, and despite the heat, his blood ran cold.

“Please,” he whispered, as she pulled back to admire her prize, ground her hips from side to side. “Please, I can't—really, I—oh—f-fuckkk...”

Noelle's lips quirked. She reached up and, in one deft motion, lifted her sweater over her head and flicked it aside.

Her enormous breasts rose and fell, and the effect inside him was like a thunderstorm. They came crashing down, bouncing, jiggling, squishing together, and then they were directly at eye level.

His words fell away. He stared at them, dazzled. Hypnotized.

“Oh,” he whispered.

Noelle's smile widened.

“That's right,” she said sweetly. “Now, enough of that old excuse, baby. it's just you and me now, for the whole rest of the week. There's, um, no game on New Year’s, right~?” She blinked her big eyes, pure, guileless innocence on her beautiful, angelic face.

But all he could do was stare at the little freckles playing across her cleavage, swirling around her areolas and right to her pert nipples like constellations in the sky.

“Aw, baby.” Noelle's voice was sultry and soft, gentle sweetness glazing over the arrogant, sadistic condescending smugness. He felt her dabbing at his lips, and realized he was drooling.

He looked up at her, and suddenly he felt so small. So helpless. He could sense he was on the precipice of something, and he knew he should be afraid, but every roll of Noelle's hips made those thoughts just dribble right away, and his head felt so fuzzy, and Noelle looked so pretty, was being so… nice to him...

“You're not going anywhere, are you?” she said sweetly.

He blinked at her. Tried to muster a response.

And then a nipple slid into his mouth, and Noelle was pressing him back against the chair, and his protests were silenced forever.

He moaned, mewled, bucked. She wouldn’t let him go. She wouldn’t let him breathe. It felt so… so…

… nnice…

Everything felt soft and warm. Squishy. Blurry. He stared up at Noelle as she laughed at him, saying things he didn’t quite understand, and his head spun at how… pretty she was…

… so… pretty…

His brain felt squishy, too. He bucked lazily, enjoying the waves of stupid pleasure that this gave him but not fully understanding where they came from.

But he had a nipple in his mouth. He understood that part, didn’t he? Even babies understood what that meant.

Especially when she was lowering down close to coo, right in his ear, “You know what to do~”

And he realized that he did. He gave her nipple a tentative suckle, and her moans were a reward, a sign that he was being good. He suckled again, and again, and then found a rhythm, pressing in close and clinging as best he could.

Suck. Throb. Buck.

Suck. Throb. Buck.

His cock was tingling, buzzing, and his brain was getting softer and softer, the pleasure was getting better and better, and then—then—

—then he tasted something creamy and sweet on his tongue.

He looked up at Noelle in surprise, and she smiled down at him. As the firelight died away, she looked… radiant.

His cock started to throb harder, then to pulse, and before he knew it, pleasure was erupting inside him like a volcano. He was cumming, cumming underneath Noelle, cumming right there in his pants, squealing, mewling, cumming for Mommy.

It was pure ecstasy. His brain wasn’t mush, it was goo. He moaned, ground his hips, suckled, drank. He just needed more pleasure, more milk, more, more, more, MORE.

“Oh, goooood boy,” he heard Noelle coo down to him. She rocked her hips, drawing the orgasm out, milking his cock even as she squeezed her breast to pump milk onto his eager tongue. Her praise felt almost as good as being smothered, as being claimed, as being made to cum and cum and cum his brains away. “Oh, I think you'll be staying here with me for a long, long time. Do you know why, Louis?”

He whimpered. He wasn’t sure how to form words anymore. But he knew how to do one thing.

Louis suckled, docile and broken.

Noelle's voice was a velvety purr of triumph. “Baby, it's cold outside~”