Michelle's breath hitched, the MDMA fog parting just enough to let a flicker of unease claw through. "What... what are you doing?" she asked, her voice soft but tight, a thread of resistance woven into the words, her pale arms trembling slightly as she held them aloft.
Shaun stepped closer, his chest grazing her back, his heat pressing against her. "Relax, babe," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear, his breath hot and teasing, sending a shiver down her spine. "I'm just getting to know you better. Full name--say it for me and for the camera." He pointed to one camera right across the room, directing her gaze there.
She swallowed hard, her legs quivering as she stood rooted in place, the smooth, pale skin of her armpits exposed. "Michelle Sanders," she said, voice steady but thin, each syllable a reluctant surrender, her pale, silken skin flushing with a faint blush under the light.
He grinned, a sharp, satisfied curve, circling her slowly, his dark skin stark against her pallor, a shadow claiming its prey. "Spell it out. Loud and clear," he said, his tone firm but playful, like he was enjoying a game only he understood, his eyes flicking briefly to the cameras, their red lights winking as they streamed her submission to an unseen internet audience, and she had no idea.
"M-I-C-H-E-L-L-E S-A-N-D-E-R-S," she recited, the letters falling heavily, her privacy peeling away under his command, her body tense but standing firm, the red lace and black stockings framing her vulnerability for the silent, watching lenses.
"Are you here willingly? Do you want this?" he asked, his voice dipping into a mock-serious tone, a taunt wrapped in velvet, his dark eyes glinting with dark amusement as he stepped closer, his presence a wall she couldn't push through. "Are you here of your own free will? Go ahead and tell the truth. Your resistance excites me, bitch."
She faltered, the drugged haze parting enough to let the truth claw through. "No. No, I'm not," she whispered, barely audible, the word a confession squeezed from her core, her pale skin flushing with shame and fear, her legs trembling but holding her upright.
He chuckled, a deep, rolling sound that vibrated against her spine, intimate and possessive. "Honesty's sexy as hell, you know that? That little fight in you--drives me wild." His fingers skimmed her waist, possessive and testing, tracing the curve of her hir pits where the red lace met her skin, then sliding up to brush the undersides of her breasts, the lace barely containing them. "Age?"
"Thirty-two," she said, her voice cracking, the number a surrender she hadn't meant to give, her body swaying slightly but remaining on her feet, her pale, soft skin glistening with a faint sheen of sweat under the overhead light.
"Where do you work?" he pressed, his tone casual but commanding, circling back to face her, his gaze locking hers with an intensity that made her knees wobble, though she stood firm, supported by sheer will and the drug's loosening grip.
"NYC Green Innovations," she mumbled, the words tumbling out, final, sealing her exposure.
"Good girl. Husband's name? How long have you been married?"
"Tony. 15 years."
"Address?" She faltered here. "Just for me just for us. Total exposure is my kink and we are just playing here.
"18 Riverside Drive. New York. City." Now all of it--name, life, all of it now his to wield. His grin widened, sharp and triumphant, as he stepped behind her again, his hands roaming with a rougher edge now, fingers digging into her hips as he pressed himself against her, the contrast of his dark skin against her pale, silken flesh stark and intimate.
"You're mine, Michelle," he said, voice a silken blade, dripping with seduction and control. And Tony's mine through you, he thought but didn't say. His touch slid up, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts, then higher, lifting her arms again to bare those smooth armpits he craved. She tensed, a flush of shame heating her face, but he growled low, pleased, and buried his face there--nose first, inhaling her faint, musky scent like it was a drug, then his tongue, hot and greedy, lapping at the tender, pale skin, silky and unmarred under the light.
Michelle squirmed, standing rigid, the intimacy too raw, too much--her mind recoiled, but her body betrayed her, sparking under the wet drag of his mouth, her pale skin glistening with a faint sheen of sweat he lapped at with relish. He sucked harder, hungry, teeth grazing just enough to sting, and she gasped, caught between disgust and the electric jolt of it, her legs trembling but holding her upright, the red lace and black stockings framing her vulnerability for the cameras he knew were broadcasting live to the internet, their full purpose a secret he guarded with a wicked smile.
"Fuck, you taste--you taste amazing," he rasped, voice thick with lust, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand, the other clawing at the clasp as the bra fell to the floor, though really she wasn't any more exposed now that her full breasts were on display for the world to see, after everything she had just announced. She stood there, all trembling, pale flesh, the black stockings accentuating her legs as she stood, fully exposed and under his command.
His hand closed around her throat and her eyes widened in surprise. He tore the lace panties aside, rough fingers finding her slickness, and she arched despite herself, a gasp tearing from her throat as he teased her with a deliberate, possessive touch. Her knees buckled, and with a firm grip on her neck, Shaun maneuvered her to the bed, laying her out like a sacrifice beneath the dim glow of the overhead bulb. The mattress dipped under her weight, the cool sheets brushing her pale, trembling skin as she lay in the panties and black stockings, her only shield against the storm of his will now stretched across the soft surface. In seconds she lost the panties as he ripped them off and inhaled deeply before growling and throwing them to the floor.
"That's it," he snarled, voice a primal rumble that sank into her bones, his fingers driving her over the edge easyly, a climax ripping through her, raw and helpless, amplified by the MDMA's haze. She thought again that it had never been like this. She had never cum like this. Had never responded so easily. Her cries bounced off the bedroom walls, echoing in the shadowed room, her pale, silken skin flushed and glistening with sweat as she lay sprawled, legs parting under his command.
Shaun's eyes gleamed with a savage thrill as he stepped back, releasing her for a moment. He reached for a sleek, handheld camera perched on a nearby tripod, its lens glinting under the dim light. "Stay right there, babe," he said, his voice smooth and seductive, laced with steel, as he raised the camera, framing her trembling form on the bed. "Let's give them a good look--every inch of you."
The camera's red light blinked, recording live, though Michelle, still caught in the drugged haze, didn't realize the internet was watching her submission unfold. Shaun leaned over her, the lens capturing the shape of her body--her full, pale breasts both firm and soft, falling to the side of her body while their rosy peaks pointed to the ceiling, her ribs faintly visible beneath her skin, rising and falling with each shaky breath. The camera zoomed in on the sweat beading across her collarbone, glistening like dew on her creamy, soft flesh, trailing down to the curve of her waist, where the lace met her trembling thighs. Her skin, flushed and slick, shimmered under the light, and between her legs, her arousal obviously, glistening, a testament to her body's betrayal under his touch.
"Look at me, Michelle," he commanded, voice a velvet lash, angling the camera to capture her face as she lay on the bed. Her wide, drugged eyes met the lens, her face flushed and vulnerable, framed by strands of damp hair sticking to her cheeks. "Say your name for the camera again--loud and clear." Her lips parted, trembling, but she obeyed, voice shaky but audible. "Michelle Sanders," she whispered, the words sealing her exposure, her pale face recorded alongside her body, the camera drinking in every detail of her surrender.
"Good girl," he purred, setting the camera back on its tripod but keeping it trained on her, its red light blinking as he returned to her side, his free hand sliding between her thighs. "You're mine now. Feel it, Michelle, how I break you open. How you respond." A finger slipped inside her, thick and calloused, curling with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The wet sounds filled the room as she gasped, her body arching on the bed, the red lace and black stockings framing her vulnerability for the camera's silent, watching lens. "Cum for me," he growled, his voice a dark command, and she obeyed, her body bowing, a climax crashing through her like a storm, her cries sharp and broken, sweat dripping down her pale skin, her breasts heaving against the red lace.
