Becoming His Expensive Plaything (8/12)

Samantha stared at the open wardrobe, lips parted slightly as her gaze drifted over the rows of delicate, ultra-feminine clothes Victor had filled it with over time. After today, she’d finally have enough to finish paying off her debt. That was the whole point, after all. Just one last visit, and she would go back to being Jacob.

She chose a sheer, rose-tinted bodycon dress—soft mesh that clung to her curves, molding tightly to her hips and waist with every slight shift. The matching tights were delicate and whisper-thin, stretching smoothly over her legs like a second skin. She smoothed them up slowly, savoring the silky friction as they hugged her thighs, her calves, even her toes.

She stepped into her heels next: sky-high, nude peep-toe stilettos with a glossy finish and towering platform that gave her legs a sleek, sexy look. The kind of heels that demanded perfect posture, that forced her hips to sway and every step to mince with delicate precision. Samantha wobbled for just a second before catching herself on the vanity, the movement sending a thrill down her spine. Her body had gotten so used to this… it welcomed the feel of tight, feminine fabric and dangerously high heels now.

She sat at the vanity, already flushed. As she leaned in, the soft bounce of her blonde curls framed her face perfectly. Foundation smoothed over her cheeks, covering any lingering roughness. Her lashes were curled, thick with mascara, her lids brushed with shimmer. The final touch: a coat of glossy, pink lipstick, her lips now pouty and kissable.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, lips slightly parted. Her hands smoothed over the curve of her dress, then down her legs, feeling the soft tension of her tights. Her thighs pressed together instinctively as her fingers grazed the fabric. Might as well go all out for the last time… right?

Letting herself into Victor’s house felt more intimate than she expected. She closed the door quietly behind her, heart fluttering as she spotted him on the couch, legs stretched out, attention on the TV.

He hadn’t noticed her yet.

Her heels clicked softly on the hardwood as she minced across the room. Each step exaggerated the curve of her hips, the clinging dress riding slightly higher with every motion. She paused just in front of him, slipping off her stilettos with a practiced grace, before crawling onto the couch—onto him.

Victor looked up, caught off guard for only a second before she straddled his lap, arms draping lazily over his shoulders. Without a word, she leaned in and kissed him.

It was slow at first, her glossy lips parting just enough to tease. Then deeper. Hotter. Her tongue moved against his, her hands curling into his shirt as she moaned softly into his mouth. Just keeping him interested, she told herself. Just playing her role. But the way his hands slid over her waist made her knees weak. She pressed her body closer, arching just slightly, her breath catching as his touch lingered.

Then she felt it—his hands guiding her downward. Slowly. Insistently.

Her lips stayed on his as long as they could, but the angle became awkward, and eventually she let the kiss break. Her knees sank to the floor with a soft thud, the silky fabric of her tights brushing against the carpet.

She blinked, suddenly eye-level with his crotch.

Samantha’s breath hitched. Her blush spread fast, the warmth creeping from her cheeks to her chest. She didn’t move as Victor unzipped, and his thick, fully erect cock flopped free—already waiting for her.

Her thoughts raced, but she stayed still. Plenty of girls do this, she told herself. It’s just to keep him happy. That’s all this is.

With one last glance up—his eyes already watching her, full of something unreadable—Samantha leaned in. Her glossy lips brushed softly against the tip, smearing the slightest bit of pink across him before parting and gliding down over his cock. She wrapped her lips around him slowly, deliberately, taking him in with a quiet, shuddering breath.

She began to move, slow and careful at first, then deeper, letting him fill her. Her lips stretched, her throat tightened, but she didn’t stop. Her hands braced against his thighs as she bobbed her head, her lipstick smearing slightly at the corners. She moaned softly, vibrations sending shivers up his spine.

He groaned, one hand tangling gently in her blonde curls as she kept going, bobbing her head slowly, rhythmically—until he tensed, hips pressing forward as he came in her mouth. Samantha barely had time to react before instinct took over, her throat working in slow pulses as she began to swallow it. Her own body trembled, a shiver rolling down her spine as a strange rush of pleasure bloomed deep in her core.

When he finally released her, she sat back on her heels, licking a trace of cum from the corner of her mouth. Her lips were slick, her mind foggy, and her thighs pressed tight together. The front of her dress had ridden up, nearly indecent—her tiny penis twitching, quietly dribbling into her panties.

She was still catching her breath when the thought crept in.

Maybe… maybe she could come back just once more.

Not for him. Just to get ahead a little. Build up some savings.

She glanced over at Victor, just as he turned away—his fat cock swinging between his legs—and bit her lip, cheeks flushed, saying nothing as the excuse settled quietly in her mind.