Mia squeaked louder this time, a shrill, panicked note slicing through the boiler room's hissing steam like a dagger through silk, her hazelnut eyes flaring wide as if I'd just declared I'd turn her into a toad for my evening amusement.
Without a shred of hesitation—because hesitation was for cowards and monks—I began opening the front of her cloak, my fingers deft and teasing, unfastening each clasp with a deliberate slowness that made the fabric part like lovers caught in a forbidden tryst.
She began panting, chest heaving in short, ragged bursts, her voice tumbling out in a breathless rush as she asked, "W-what are you doing?"
I grinned up at her, my eyes sparkling with wicked delight, and purred, "Oh, darling, I have to know what I'm working with before we start—call it a...professional courtesy," which was a lie… partially, since part of me just wanted to see her squirm under my gaze.
I spun behind her then, my hands sliding up her back like sly shadows, and unclipped her bra with a quiet flick, the straps falling away as her perky breasts spilled free into the humid air of the boiler room.
They were small but achingly cute, perfectly rounded handfuls that quivered faintly with each gasping breath, her nipples hardening into tight little peaks against the steam swirling around us.
I began teasing her, my fingers brushing lightly over her skin before cupping those soft mounds from behind, feeling the warmth of her body seep into my palms as I leaned in close, my breath hot against her ear.
She yelped sharply when I brushed my thumbs past her nipples, the sensitive buds swelling harder as she begged, "D-don't touch there, please—I'm too sensitive!"
"Perfect," I whispered, my voice a low, mocking purr that sent shivers racing down her spine, "that's exactly what I was looking for."
Her breath hitched, a fragile little sound that made me grin wider. I trailed my fingers down her arms, slow and deliberate, coaxing her to lower them just a little.
"What do you mean?" she stammered, her voice caught between panic and some softer, more dangerous note.
I tilted my head, watching the goosebumps ripple over her skin like I'd just painted them on. "Seduction isn't about hiding the parts that make you tremble," I said, raising my brows as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It's about turning those very weaknesses into weapons. A gasp here, a shiver there—oh, saints above, it makes them think they're the ones unraveling you."
"I-I don't…" she started, but her words died as my hands brushed along her sides again, feather-light, just enough to tease another shiver out of her. Her hazelnut eyes widened, her lips parting as though the air itself had turned heavy. She swallowed hard, then whispered, barely audible, "It feels…wrong."
"Darling, if it feels wrong, that's how you know you're doing it properly."
As soon as I said those words, I began rubbing her nipples in a teasing little pattern, circling them slowly with my fingertips, pinching just enough to make her arch against me.
Mia gasped loudly, the sound echoing off the rusted pipes like a forbidden confession, before cupping her mouth with both hands to muffle the moans bubbling up her throat.
Her hips convulsed suddenly, bucking forward as if struck by lightning, and then...ah. A little patch of wetness began blooming at the front of her panties, the fabric darkening with her arousal, soaking through in a shameful, glistening stain that made the air smell faintly of her sweet, musky excitement.
I spun around to the front of her again, crouching low with a predatory grin, my face level with her trembling thighs before yanking her panties down in one swift tug, the silk sliding over her hips and pooling at her ankles like discarded inhibitions.
A little string of Mia's mini orgasm stretched between the fabric and her puffy pussy, the viscous thread glistening like a spider's web spun from pure lust, snapping with a wet twang as I pulled the underwear free.
"W-Wait, please," she protested, but I wasn't listening.
Instead I leaned forward, dragging my tongue across her folds in a slow, deliberate lick, savoring the salty-sweet tang of her mess as it coated my taste buds, the flavor exploding through my mouth like molten honey.
Then I kissed the soft little patch of unkempt hair above her crotch, my lips lingering on the coarse curls matted with her juices, inhaling the heady scent that made my cock twitch beneath my skirt.
Mia's face flushed a beat red, her breath misting into the humid air, forming little clouds that danced with the steam. Her eyes were glassy with a mix of embarrassment and budding desire.
I began walking circles around her, my steps slow and measured, like a sculptor appraising a block of marble, my eyes raking over every inch of her naked form—the way her breasts rose and fell with each shaky breath, the subtle quiver of her thighs, the glistening trail of arousal trickling down her inner leg.
"Seduction isn't about throwing yourself at someone—it's about making them chase you without even realizing they're running," I said, my voice a witty drawl laced with amusement, stopping behind her to trail a finger down her spine, watching goosebumps erupt like tiny fireworks on her skin.
Saints, she's like a blank canvas begging for my brushstrokes, all trembly and innocent—how can I resist painting her with a little filth?
"Let's start with conversation—words are your first weapon, sharper than any dagger when wielded correctly."
I paused in front of her, tilting her chin up again, my thumb brushing her lower lip as I continued, "You don't blurt out what you want; you hint at it, tease it out like unraveling a knot, making them lean in closer, desperate for more."
She nodded hesitantly. I leaned in, whispering, "Practice on me—tell me something that makes me want to know you, something coy, something that leaves a question hanging in the air."
Mia stammered at first, her voice a soft mumble, "I-I like… reading stories by the fire."
I shook my head with a comedic sigh, exaggerating my disappointment like a theater actor overplaying a scene. "Oh, come on, spice it up! Say it like 'I love losing myself in tales by the firelight, the kind that make your heart race and your skin tingle… how about you?' See? Now I'm hooked."
She nodded, drinking in my words with vigor.
From then we moved on to posture, my hands guiding her shoulders back, arching her spine just so, making her breasts thrust forward invitingly, nipples still pert and sensitive from my earlier debasement.
"Stand like you own the room—hips cocked, chest out, but not like you're trying too hard; make it look natural, like you're a queen gracing peasants with your presence," I instructed, demonstrating with a sway of my own hips, my skirt swishing teasingly.
I snickered, a comedic warmth bubbling up amid the growing heat. She tried to follow suit, her body straightening, but when I corrected her with a gentle push to her lower back, she gasped, that sensitive spot making her knees buckle slightly, a fresh trickle of wetness slicking her thighs.
Gods, look at her trying to mimic me, all wobbly and earnest—it's almost too adorable, like teaching a kitten to roar.
"See? That's your secret weapon—those sensitivities," I teased, my fingers dancing lightly over her sides, making her squirm and giggle despite herself. "Don't hide them; use them to create authenticity, let a gasp slip here, a shiver there—it makes them think they're affecting you, drawing them in like moths to a flame."
I ran an exercise then, having her practice a teasing touch on my arm, her fingers hesitant at first, but I encouraged her.
"Trail your nails lightly, like this," demonstrating on her thigh, watching her skin pebble and her breath hitch. She mirrored me, her touch growing bolder, and I exaggerated my reaction with a slight moan.
"Oh dear, you're a natural—feel that? That's how you hook them, make them feel powerful while you pull the strings from behind."
The lessons continued on for a little while, circling back to conversation with role-play scenarios, me pretending to be a gruff gang leader, her practicing coy responses that hinted at more, her voice gaining a lilt of confidence with each try.
Eventually, I found myself getting a little carried away, the heat of the room and her trembling form making my own body respond, my cock beginning to ache as I stripped myself naked, the fabric pooling at my feet like shed skin.
I sat down on the crate in the middle of the room, my delicate frame exposed, and decided I would use my cock to teach her how to properly work her tongue, holding the shaft steady as it glistened in the molten light.
Mia stared at my little cock, watching it twitch and throb, her eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and nerves. I began lightly smacking it against her face, the wet slaps echoing obscenely, making her whine a little, but I comforted her with a soft coo.
"Shh, darling, it's just a little play—feel how warm it is? That's all for you."
She pressed a soft little kiss to my tip, her lips plush and tentative, sending a jolt through me that made me bite my lip before trailing lower, kissing the smooth skin of my balls with a gentle peck that had me gasping approval.
"Mmm, that's it, explore it like it's your new favorite toy," I murmured, my voice husky with building heat, my inner thoughts racing.
Fuck, her innocence is intoxicating.
Mia giggled a little, a hint of mischief lacing her breath, no doubt my lessons were working. The sound bubbled through the room like champagne as she dragged her tongue up my shaft in a slow, teasing stripe, the sensation slick and electric.
Then, without a second to waste, she took it in with a little choke, her mouth enveloping me in warm, velvety heat, her tongue swirling tentatively as I pat her head, "Easy, darling, breathe through your nose—correct that mistake, and you'll have them eating out of your hand."
Mia quickly pulled back with a wet pop, coughing as strings of spit clung to her lips. Her cheeks burned, eyes watery, freckles splattered red across her flushed face. Her voice quivered as if in surrender, blurting out, "I-I'm sorry! I'm not used to… I've never done this sort of thing before."
I barked out a laugh, clutching my stomach with one hand while my cock bobbed accusingly in the other. "Oh, that much is painfully obvious. Believe me, I can always spot a first-timer." I leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The enthusiasm's there, but the finesse? About as graceful as a goat trying to play the flute."
She scowled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Oh, don't pout," I teased, pinching her cheek with wicked delight. "You're adorable when you pout, but it's terribly unsexy. No man wants to feel like he's just scolded his apprentice—unless he's into that sort of thing, and gods, don't get me started on disciplinarians."
Her blush deepened, and she glanced down at my cock again, still twitching expectantly. Her voice dropped to a tiny squeak. "So… I just… what, try again?"
I smirked, pressing the head of my cock against her lips with a lewd little squish. "That's the spirit. But this time? Take it like you're savoring a forbidden treat, not choking on some priest's spoiled wine. Open wide. Use your tongue. Pretend it's your favorite fruit, dripping juice you don't want to waste. Here, let me offer you some...assistance."
Before she could mutter in protest, I quickly latched unto both sides of her head and yanked her down onto my cock so deep that her nose kissed the base, her throat convulsing around me in a tight little squeeze that sent stars bursting behind my eyes.
Mia slammed her eyes shut, a little spurt of cum leaking from her pussy onto the floor in a shameful puddle, tears licking the corners of her face as she gagged softly under my sudden oppression.
I began moving her head in steady rhythms.
"Arugh~! Mppfh~ Gulck," she mumbled, the wet sounds filling the room like a symphony from hell, her saliva drooling down my shaft in thick, messy trails until she melted into the motions, her body relaxing into submission.
Eventually, I let go, allowing Mia to indulge on her own, satisfied by her progress, watching as she bobbed her head with growing enthusiasm.
"Yes, that's it. Saints bless you, you're learning. See? Not so terrifying, is it? Just a little practice and soon you'll be wringing men dry without lifting a finger."
She hummed a muffled sound around me. Then—saints preserve me—her hand crept upward, tentative as a thief's, and cupped my balls. Her fingers squeezed gently at first, then with a firmer roll, like she was weighing coins in a purse.
"Fffuck," I hissed, hips jerking against her face. "Ohhh, clever girl."
Her blush deepened, though her lips never left me, her breath hot against my shaft as she tried a firmer squeeze. My laugh came out sharp and ragged.
She peeked up at me through her lashes then, cheeks puffed around my cock, and gods help me, I couldn't help it, I arched into her and with one final squeeze, I let out a hot, unyielding load that flooded her mouth in thick, salty spurts, the cum coating her tongue like creamy lava.
Mia pulled back quickly, letting the remaining spurts of cum land on her face and shoot up into her hair, the white ropes splattering across her freckles, dripping down her chin in sticky little rivers.
I gave Mia a soft pat on the head. "Good girl."
She coughed lightly, her face a mess of my release, her eyes sparkling with a mix of triumph and surprise. Then she giggled before licking her lips, tasting my mess with a tentative swipe of her tongue, the flavor making her hum softly as she swallowed what remained in her mouth.
My "lessons" went on for what felt like hours, me guiding her through more exercises—teaching her how to grind against a thigh for effect, how to whisper filthy promises that left knees weak, all while my hands roamed her body, teasing her until she was nothing but a quivering mess.
The boiler room seemed to grow hotter, the steam thicker, the air heavy with the scent of our debauchery, her gasps and my witty quips echoing like a comedic duet in a forbidden play.
Mia squeaked as I bent her over the crate, her stomach resting on my lap as my fingers began dipping between her thighs to rub at her slick folds, the wetness coating my digits in a glossy sheen that I licked clean with exaggerated moans.
"See? This is authenticity, darling—let them see how wet you get, make them think they're the cause," I teased, my voice breathy as I plunged two of my fingers inside her, feeling her walls clench around me in sharp, greedy pulses.
Saints, she's so fucking tight.
The heat built between us as I curled my fingers to hit that spot that made her knees buckle. She moaned louder, her body arching, a fresh gush of her juices trickling down her legs, pooling on the floor and reflecting the light like a mirror to our sins.
Brutus barged back into the room then, the door slamming open with a clang that made Mia jump, my hand poised mid-smack on her ass.
The sharp crack echoed through the steam, pulling out a little moan from her as her cheeks jiggled, reddening under my palm.
"Louder, darling—make it sing like an opera of ecstasy!" Mia obliged, her gasps rising in pitch, a comedic high note that had me chuckling even as my cock stirred again at the sight of her quivering flesh.
"Am I interrupting something?" Brutus said, his eyes widening slightly at the scene before him, a rare crack in his stoic facade.
I blinked up at Brutus, feigning innocence with a bat of my lashes, "Oh, just a little tutoring session—nothing you haven't seen before, big guy."
Brutus sighed. "Free time's almost up." His voice cut through the air like a thunderclap.
I nodded. Perfect. Now that Mia had been, reprogrammed, all I had to do was sit back and wait for her to gather us more information, my mind already scheming the next moves in this twisted game.
My thoughts drifted toward the sectional warden as well, that pompous prick with his iron fist and hollow threats, no doubt gearing up for a confrontation any day now.
Two forces at once moving against me. Two beasts circling in the shadows, ready to pounce. It would be risky, but it was a risk I was willing to take, because saints know, I've turned worse odds in my favor.
"After all," I murmured to the room with a wicked grin, "what's life without a little chaos to spice up the soup?"