The next few days were a whirlwind of messages, photos, and credits. Every time your phone vibrated, you felt a shiver of excitement run down your spine, even during your work hours. Satoru was becoming an obsession, a constant presence in your thoughts, a shadow that followed you everywhere. His demands were increasingly bold, his promises seemed more and more explicit.
I want to see you on your knees, your hands behind your back, your stockings tight around your thighs.
You obeyed, taking photos that made you blush just looking at them. But it wasn't embarrassment you felt, no, it was power. The power to excite him, to control his emotions, even if only for a moment. And that felt damn good.
Tell me what you would do if you were here.
Your fingers trembled on the keyboard as you typed, deleted, retyped, unsure. Finally, you hit send.
Y/N: I would tie you to the bed, kiss every inch of that pale body, and then suck you until you were crazy.
The answer came immediately.
Satoru: Continue.
Y/N: I would lick you, taste you, make you cum in my mouth, and then penetrate myself with your own cock, using it to fill me, to possess me…
Satoru: You're good with words. But are you better with your mouth?
You felt the heat spread through your belly; your panties were already damp.
That night, however, everything changed. You were sitting on the futon, your laptop resting on your lap as usual, when your phone suddenly vibrated. It wasn't a text, but a video call. Your heart leaped into your throat as you accepted, and the screen lit up, revealing Satoru's face for the first time.
He was...beautiful. More beautiful than you could have imagined. His pale skin, his sky-blue eyes that bore into yours every time he looked at you, his strong jaw and those long white lashes gave him a boyish look. But what struck you most was his gaze, intense and magnetic, as if he could see right through you and study you from top to bottom.
"Hi, Y/n," he said, his voice deep but not overly so, a contrast to his boyish image.
"Hi…" you replied, your voice shaking.
"I like what you wrote. But I want to see you do it."
You swallowed, your heart pounding. "What do you mean?"
Satoru smiled, a gorgeous, predatory smile. "I want to see you suck a cock, Y/n. Your dildo or whatever you have in your drawer, if you have nothing better."
Heat rose to your cheeks and made you blush, but you didn't look away. "But if I do that…"
"I'll give you all the money you want."
You didn't hesitate. You stood up, phone still in hand, and walked over to the bedside table drawer. You pulled out a long, thick dildo you'd bought a while back, when you were playing dirty with your ex Mahito. You'd used it several times during that days, imagining it was Satoru filling you, possessing you.
You sat back down on the futon, dildo in hand, and looked Satoru in the eye. Slowly, you lay down, your stockings hugging your thighs, your tank top hugging your breasts. You brought the dildo to your lips, kissed it, licked it, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Then, you took it in your mouth, slowly, feeling the cold rubber brush your tongue.
"Continue…" Satoru whispered, his voice hoarse.
You obeyed. You pushed the dildo deeper, feeling your throat tighten, but you didn't stop. You sucked it, licked it again, savored it, as if it were really Satoru's cock, as if he were filling your mouth.
"Yes," he gasped, his eyes closed, his face contorted with pleasure as he rapidly masturbated. "Yes, y/n, you're perfect."
You smiled, the dildo still in your mouth, and continued, faster, deeper, until you heard Satoru moan, his voice catching in his throat.
"Enough," he gasped, his eyes opening, staring at you. "Enough, y/n, you're driving me crazy. I want to come in your mouth."
You took the dildo out of your mouth, your breathing short and labored, and looked up at him, your eyes still shining with excitement. "And now?" you asked.
He smiled, a satisfied and very sexy smile. "Now, y/n, it's time to meet."
Your heart leaped into your throat, your body trembling with excitement. "Oh, when?"
"As soon as possible. I'll book a hotel room. You'll come, of course."
You didn't hesitate. "Yes."
"Good," he whispered, his eyes devouring you. "I'm going to fuck your mouth until you're crazy. In the meantime, I'll send you tonight's money. See you tomorrow."
He hung up without preamble. Shortly after, your phone rang again, a credit from the bank.
"+$4,000"
You felt like crying. In two days, you already had almost all the money to pay the rent!
***
The wind howled through the crack in the broken window, letting in a breath of cool air that crept under your thin T-shirt, making goosebumps rise up along your thin arms. The curtains, worn and yellowed by time, fluttered like ghosts in the draft, while the dim table light, one of those energy-saving ones that hummed annoyingly, painted the peeling walls yellow. By now your nose was accustomed to the pungent smells of the room, your eyes were well acquainted with the hole in the mattress that stung your back every night, or the sound of the mice scratching outside the front door.
But that night, you were distracted. That night, all that existed was the laptop screen, your dull reflection reflecting in that light, and your eyes were glued to mysweetdaddy.com. Four thousand dollars. Four thousand fucking dollars, transferred in less than an hour after you sent Nanami a photo of your dirty panties and your sweaty feet that he adored so much, still wrapped in the torn fishnet stockings you'd been wearing for three days.
You'd finally paid half of your back rent, you'd lost count of how many months had passed, plus the interest that gnawed at your insides every time you thought about it. You had enough left to buy real food, not just instant ramen and expired chips.
But that wasn't the point. The point was the power. The thrill that ran down your spine every time a man begged you, offered you money for just a sliver of your attention.
And now he was here.
With his incredible profile. Sculpted torso, enormous arms, skin taut over muscles that seemed carved from marble, abs that flexed even in the still image, as if waiting for your touch to tighten further. His shoulders were very broad, his arms powerful, veins running down his forearms like rivers in flood. You couldn't see his face, obviously against the rules, you only saw a shadow where his face should have been, a void that your imagination filled with hard features, full lips ready to bite, to lick, to whisper dirty things against your skin.
You bit your lower lip as you involuntarily clenched your thighs together, the heat rising between your legs like a tide. Fuck. Your panties were soaked, your clit already swollen and throbbing just looking at him. You clicked on the smiley face, your finger trembling slightly. 608. Nickname: Toji.
No response.
The screen remained silent, the cursor blinking mockingly in the empty message inbox, like an eye staring at you, judging you. You felt a lump in your throat, a sour frustration burning your stomach. Why doesn't he write? Your nails dug into your palms, leaving red crescents on your pale skin. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he wasn't interested. Or maybe, the thought clenched your gut, he was toying with you. Leaving you waiting, like a cat in heat rubbing against a closed door.
A high-pitched sound, the metallic ping of a notification, made you jump. It wasn't that Toji. It was another profile, one you hadn't noticed yet. The handle made your brow furrow: @Choso_ThePuppy. The photo was…different. Strange. Intriguing. A naked torso, pale as watered-down milk, lean but with a definition that betrayed hours spent in the gym or on his knees. A thick, black leather collar tightened around his neck, with a silver buckle that glinted under the artificial light. The pants, if you could call them that, were made of the kind of synthetic fur used for animal costumes, clinging to his narrow hips, leaving little to the imagination. And then there was the leash, lying on the floor beside him, like an invitation to...a walk?
You didn't hesitate. You clicked.
The profile was sparse, almost bare: "Severe mistress wanted. I pay to be treated as I deserve. No limits."
No limits.
Your fingers tingled over the keyboard. Before you could think too much, you clicked on the smiley face. The response was instantaneous, almost as if he had been there, waiting, his finger hovering over the enter key.
Choso: "GUAU! Mistress! Finally! I'm all yours, let me crawl at your feet, please!!"
You snorted, a nasal sound coming out unintentionally. How fucking disgusting. But there was something…something that made your lower stomach muscles clench.
Y/N: "Don't call me Mistress. Not now."
Choso: "Yes, P-Mistress...sorry...I'm excited just thinking about you looking at me...do you want me to show you how good I am at obeying? I'll send you a photo, Mistress, please, let me earn your affection..."
An attachment appeared in the chat. You didn't hesitate. You clicked.
The image opened full-screen.
He was on his knees, his hands resting on his thighs, his back arched in a submissive pose so perfect it seemed rehearsed. The collar tightened around his neck, the leash dangling, unused. The tight fur pants exposed his groin, where a huge bulge betrayed his arousal. His face wasn't visible, only his jaw clenched, his lips parted, as if he were holding back a moan.
Choso: "Look how hard I am for you, Mistress… I'm yours, use my body as you wish. Do you want me to lick your feet? Clean your floor with my tongue? Tell me and I'll do it, and I'll pay you a lot of money."
You felt a wave of heat between your legs. Your panties were already damp, ready to be thrown away, and your pussy lips were enormous. Holy shit. You ran a hand through your short, jet-black hair, your breathing becoming shallow. It was too much. Too direct. Too…available.
But then your gaze fell on Toji's file again.
Still nothing.
Another attachment. This time he was lying face down on what looked like a worn carpet, his bottom raised, his fur pants pulled down just enough to reveal the curve of his buttocks. A hand, not his, was spanking him, his skin already red, finger marks dug into his flesh.
Choso: "This is what my ex-Mistress does to me…but I want YOU, only YOU. Do you want me to spank you while I watch you on video? Do you want me to cry for you? Tell me and I will, Mistress…"
You felt a lump in your throat. Fuck. You ran your tongue over your lips, your finger trembling over the keyboard. It was sick. It was perverse. And yet... your body responded. Your pussy throbbed, wet, as if already anticipating the touch of those submissive lips.
Your phone vibrated on the futon beside you. A text from Nanami.
Nanami: "Have you thought about our dinner, little one? You know I'd love to see for myself what you can do to me with that cheeky little mouth…"
You closed your eyes for a second, your breath catching. Too much. It was all too intense. Too many men, too much desire. Too much power flowing through your fingers like cash, like a wave threatening to overwhelm you.
When you opened your eyes again, the website screen was still there, with the two chats open: one silent, the other pulsating with desperate submission.
Y/N: "How much will you give me to walk you like a dog?"
Choso's response was a torrent of words, almost overlapping, as if he were typing with trembling fingers.
Choso: "TEN THOUSAND! NO, TWENTY THOUSAND! Please, let me crawl in the street on a leash, let me do my business outside like an animal, I want everyone to see me humiliated for YOU, only for YOU…"
You laughed, a low, guttural laugh that made your chest vibrate. Twenty thousand dollars. This time, however, you would be the one to decide everything. Every humiliation. Every command.
You rose from the futon, laptop still in hand, and walked toward the fogged-up bathroom mirror. Your reflection was that of a thin girl, her dark eyes shining with a light you'd never seen before. Power. That was the word. The power to bend a man, and a dog, to your will.
You bit your lip again, then typed decisively.
Y/N: "During the week, I'll come over in the morning. I'll pick you up. Bring me the leash and cash. And don't you dare wear anything under those fur pants. If you do, I'll have you neutered."
The reply came in a series of frantic messages, punctuated by heart and paw emojis, as if he were barking through the keyboard.
Choso: "Yes, Mistress, yes yes! I'll do whatever you want, I can't wait to smell your scent, lick your feet, crawl-"
You quickly closed the chat, a smile spreading across your lips. Then, almost against your will, your eyes returned to Toji's profile.
Still nothing.
A shiver ran down your spine, but this time it wasn't just excitement. It was a challenge. A game. A man who didn't respond, who ignored you, while another was ready to grovel at your feet at your beckoning.
You sat back down on the futon, legs crossed, laptop on your lap. Your fingers trembled over the keyboard. Good. You were going to play too.