The music in the club drilled a thumping bassline through them, but Wren wasn't paying attention to it anymore. They were far more interested in the glimpse they'd just received of a figure drifting through the bouncing and jumping bodies of the crowd, a flash of _something_ that had captured their gaze for a brief instant before disappearing, leaving an aching absence that needed to be filled. 

They set off in the direction of this new mystery, the raucous energy of the club barely even registering. They pushed and slipped through the close-pressed dancers, until a sudden foot in the wrong spot sent them stumbling – right into the arms of their target.

“Watch yourself, little thing!”

The voice was deep, soft, and accented by a gentle chuckle, and it came with a pair of firm arms wrapping around Wren. They took a breath, and their senses were flooded with the scent of white chocolate and frankincense, a bizarre mix that still wrapped itself around their brain. The arms around them set them back to being balanced, easily lifting Wren’s light frame as they finally got their feet planted.

Stepping back, Wren finally got a look at the object of their fascination, and the sight made their heart skip a beat. They were wreathed in layers of lace and fishnets, a long gown draped over a lithe, androgynous body. Beneath the layers, whenever they moved, something Wren guessed was latex glimmered in the flashing club lights. They were ethereal, and beautiful, and yet Wren wasn't interested in any of that, because they had just lifted their eyes to the person's face. 

Or rather, Wren lifted their eyes to a pair of full, smiling lips, coated in lipstick that was as black as ink, glistening under a spotlight. The colour of midnight. The rest of the club was merely an afterthought to Wren, now, the only thing their mind could focus on were those shimmering black lips, the slowly widening, teasing grin emerging on them, the words beginning to form.

“You know, it's usually my outfit that people stare at…” 

Startled out of their reverie, Wren immediately blushed, hard. “S-sorry! Uh, I didn't mean to bump into you, I just, was, going this way and, tripped-” 

“Shh.” The lips pursed for a moment, before the teasing grin returned. “Relax, little thing. Besides, there are far worse things to bump into. I'm Opal, a pleasure.” With that, they extended a gloved hand, delicately requesting a shake. In Wren's mind, they could only picture themselves bending down to kiss it, the image shunting itself to the front of their thoughts, but they fought it back.

 “I’m Wren.” 

“Wren. How delightful to meet you.” Something about the sound of their own name passing Opal's lips, slipping through that pitch-black lipstick, made Wren’s knees quiver. “Buy me a drink?”

“Yes!”

The conversation flowed easily between them, although Wren couldn't help themselves from continuing to drift away for moments at a time, staring at Opal's lipstick. Every time, though, the only reaction would be a teasing grin and a wink, before Wren caught back up with the chatter. They watched Opal raise a cocktail glass to their lips, and felt nothing but jealousy for the purple liquid flowing past them. 

“You know, I can tell what you’re interested in.” Opal’s remark tore Wren from another long, drawn out moment of being entranced by their lips. The teasing smile stayed in place as they continued, “People tend to be drawn in by them, and after they get what they want, they tend to not come back the same. Are you sure you want them?”

Wren laughed off the comment, even though the serious tone had sent goosebumps running down their back. “I’m mostly just curious about how well your lipstick is holding up. Does it not transfer?”

“Oh, it transfers, just not onto glasses.”

Whether due to the alcohol now flowing in their veins, or just from the desire simmering away in their mind, Wren was completely oblivious to the eager glint in Opal’s eyes. 

Before Wren could steady themselves, a new song started to play, and Opal let out a squeal of delight. “I love this song! C’mon, dance with me!” One of their gloved hands caught hold of Wren’s, dragging them out onto the dancefloor. The two danced together, close enough for Wren to smell that intoxicating mix again, close enough to touch, close enough for them to feel Opal’s heartbeat, close enough for them to stare up at their lips again, enraptured once more by the glistening light dancing along the ink-black surface. Everything faded away, and all Wren could hear was Opal’s faint whisper through their grin. “Do you want a kiss?”

“Yes!” Wren gasped, heart leaping in their chest. 

“Are you sure? There’s no going back…” Everything started to collapse inwards, Wren’s entire existence tunnelling in on Opal’s lips, that faint curl at the corner, the slow pursing as they gave their response. 

“Please,” the word oozed out of their mouth, inevitable, unstoppable. 

“As you wish~”

Opal leaned in, Wren felt a chill press against their cheek, and everything in the universe ground to a halt. Wren could feel reality wheeling around them, this moment planting itself as the most important instant that had ever or will ever be, the apex their life had been building to. They could feel the kiss on their cheek, they could feel it in their soul, could feel a mark of pure, perfect black slowly spreading its tendrils throughout their existence. A mark of ownership. At last, just a little too late to do anything about it, they accepted the fundamental truth Opal had tried to warn them of. 

There was no going back. 

Everything faded, and for a brief while, Wren was no more. 

The universe slowly drifted back into existence, as Wren gradually became aware of being able to feel again. They took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of white chocolate and frankincense once more, and let it out just as gradually. They could still feel the kiss on their cheek, almost like a permanent brand, a dull throb of pleasurable sensation radiating out from it, a faint glow in their mind’s eye view of themselves. They cracked their eyes open, grimacing at the light, and then found themselves looking down on themselves – or, as their thoughts caught up with their senses, looking into a mirror overhead. 

They had been stripped, their splayed out body bare of any of the clothing they had worn to the club. They quickly scanned over their body, looking for any further marks on their skin, but all they could identify was the shiny, black imprint of a pair of lips on their cheek. The sight of it made their heart race, and the image of Opal’s lips flashed into their mind, and they could feel arousal mixing in with the rest of their thoughts. 

As they searched their thoughts, though, they realised they couldn’t remember how they had found their way into what must be Opal’s bed, or, in fact, anything that happened after that kiss. There was just a pitch-black void in their mind, an empty gap of nothingness. Realising that sent a chill through the heady mix of lustful ideas that had been spilling over inside their head, and they realised that they needed to get out of there. After all, they weren’t strapped down from what they could see, there was nothing on the bed except themselves, but as they sent the instruction to their limbs to start moving, everything just fizzled out. It was so easy to just sink into the soft, comfortable sheets, so hard to muster up the willpower to leave…

As they battled internally, they heard the sound of a door slowly opening, followed by a light giggle filling the air. Opal had returned. Wren heard heels clicking their way closer, reaching the side of the bed, and slowly, Opal leant into their view. The layers of lace had been removed, leaving only a slick, body-hugging rubber catsuit, tracing out their lean frame, but Wren didn’t really notice any of that. The lipstick was still there. 

“Sleep well, little thing? I didn’t want to wake you too soon, you looked so comfortable…”

Opal languidly crawled onto the bed, lying down next to Wren’s immobile body, their latex just barely touching Wren’s skin along one side. A gloved hand faintly traced along their body, past their breasts, across achingly hard nipples, down, down to their thighs, bypassing the throbbing, aching need between their legs. Teasing. Always teasing. 

The dull throb of the kiss on Wren’s cheek began to grow stronger, more insistent, as if reacting to Opal’s lips drifting closer. They could feel each breath washing over them, tingles flooding through their body. A sense of dread almost broke through the waves of calm and relaxation, an urge to get up, get up, move! 

Their arm twitched. Just a little. The only response it prompted was a teasing chuckle from Opal, “Oh, you want to leave, little Wren? I won’t stop you, but… I’d be oh-so-upset~”

Wren could almost imagine the pout coming across those ink-black lips, a frown crossing the face they still couldn’t quite visualise. The urge to leave was quickly stamped down as the breath drew closer again, the presence at their side looming in, and suddenly, they felt another kiss planted on their neck, just below the first. 

Overwhelmed by the sensation, Wren let out a moan, the sound forced from their lips by the pleasure suddenly erupting from the kiss. They could feel that another mark had been left on their skin, a perfect representation of Opal’s lips, slick, shiny, a pair of lips displayed in wet ink. 

“Not everyone gets so entranced by them. It’s only the special ones that see my lips and become so desperate for them…”

Another kiss, on Wren’s chest, right over one of their nipples. Another moan, another burst of pleasure, but this time it didn’t fade away to background noise. The perfect kissmarks began to smear and blot, like ink spreading on fresh paper, their shiny blackness starting to spread as tendrils across Wren’s flesh. 

“But, those that do, I just can’t let go of. I need them, just as much as they need…” 

A kiss landed on the other nipple, and the blotting inkstains began to connect, a network of spidery black veins of pleasure across Wren’s body beginning to coalesce into smears of mind-melting sensation. 

“...Me~!”

The kisses continued, all across Wren’s skin, less and less of it visible as the kisses continued to add to the layer of black. Wren’s eyes were wide, looking up at themselves, seeing more and more of their skin disappearing under a swiftly forming encasement of what looked like rubber. They could see the back of Opal’s head as they descended, working their way down one leg then the other, planting mark after mark. Wren’s body trembled under the feelings flooding through them, and with every kiss they could feel something intangible inside them becoming stained black as well, the strange rubbery lipstick spreading into their very soul, and replacing it with just a smooth, slick, black surface, filled with nothing but devotion to Opal and their shiny, black lips. 

The groans were coming louder and louder, even more desperate for the kisses to continue. Soon, Opal pulled away for a moment with a giggle, letting Wren properly examine their situation. Their body had been completely coated in the slick, shiny rubber, the substance perfectly conforming to their skin, almost like an oil slick on water, leaving only two areas of bare flesh exposed. Their face, framed in the rubber, and the desperate, aching place between their thighs, making their arousal visible for anyone who even glanced their way. 

Opal’s face interrupted their view, that grinning pair of lips taking up all of Wren’s focus as they loomed over their head. “Almost done, little thing…”

The lips came closer, and closer, until Wren felt a delicate kiss right over one of their eyes, immediately losing any sight from it. The remaining one caught a glimpse of the mirror past Opal’s giggling visage, seeing the rubber coating one side of their head, everything smooth and shiny, everything but their lips. Then the other kiss came, and they saw nothing. 

But they could still feel. They could feel the throbbing, pulsing embrace of the rubber all across their body, could feel the pleasure of being covered in Opal’s kiss, could feel the lipstick covering up who they once were and replacing it with something much, much more appealing. They could feel Opal shifting on the bed, could feel the breaths washing over their aching need, and felt the pleasure blossoming as a kiss covered that up too. Then, there was only one spot left, one single speck of Wren left exposed to the air; their own lips, bare and untouched. They could feel that last patch of skin, understood what it represented, knew that there was no going back after this. Their lips trembled, opened, formed into a word, a whisper uttered into nothingness. 

“Please.” 

They couldn’t see it, but they knew Opal’s perfect, unblemished rubber lips had just formed into that same teasing grin. 

Then Wren felt Opal’s lips meeting theirs, and Wren simply stopped existing.