The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Levi wiped his sticky palms off on his dusty jeans as he set the box down in the steel workbench.

Something in this one had leaked. The corner of the cardboard was dark and sodden and tacky to the touch. Hopefully this wasn’t another box full of old bottles of suspect medicines or plastic vials of chemicals with indecipherable molecular equations inked onto the sides by way of a label.

Because there had been a lot of those already.

Alina did mention that her husband had been a researcher, didn’t she? Well, that or the guy had been trying to cook up a fresh batch of super meth if the sheer amount of shady pharmaceuticals he had dabbled in was any indication.

A whole shelving unit was neatly packed with them. Ranks and rows of pill bottles, eye droppers, racks of stoppered test tubes and even an ancient iron pill press which may have been an antique. Levi was no stranger to medication, having been on one cocktail or another of anti-anxiety, antidepressant and mood stabilizers for most of his teenage life, but he didn’t recognize any of the manufacturers or brands.

Bimbex, Trance-tory, BimboTech… Who were these companies and what was up with their oddly suggestive names?

Levi slit the sealing tape with a handy box cutter, folded back the cardboard flaps and let out a sigh of relief. Nope, nothing hazardous. Simply more gimcrack clutter stuffed randomly together for him to sort onto the shelves.

Most of the contents inside this box appeared to be third world archaeological knock-offs. Though the hair on the back of his hands did tingle with some kind of static electricity as Levi started to unpack them onto a shelf he had designated as ‘Travel.”

So far it only held a few postcards from a backwater farm town named ‘Calving, USA’. Cows and dairies seemed to be the theme of the glossy photo fronts though Levi had never heard of the place.

He carefully sorted and positioned each of them. A rough-hewn palmwood and seashell fertility idol that was probably a memento of a holiday cruise in the Pacific. A small stone jaguar head souvenir straight from a street hawker in Mexico City. The unfortunate spill had come from a tarnished brass lamp of the classic teapot design but that wasn’t oil leaking from the spout.

The offending substance was viscous, white and sticky.

Suspiciously like…

“Levi… Darling, you have been working hard all morning. Come, take a break. Spend time with your Alina.”

Levi turned and smiled. His gorgeous Russian neighbor leaned heavily against the door that connected the spacious garage to her palatial, three story manor home. She was eyeing him hotly and gnawing on her plump bottom lip as though she were only waiting for him to step inside, where she could devour him.

That wasn’t far from the truth.

Levi had stumbled home late the night before feeling like a new man. Alina had insisted on feeding her young Lion supper before slipping back down his skinny body to drink her own fill from his ecstatic manhood once again.

It had been surreal—almost dreamlike—to have such a wonderful, stunning creature fawn over Levi, then take him to such heights of carnal bliss that he had not imagined possible. Heights he had never expected to ever approach, given the crippling social anxiety the young college freshman suffered around members of the opposite sex.

But Alina Makarova was an exquisite masterpiece of contradictions.

She was, as her own name indicated, bright and beautiful yet modest and humble. Her figure was voluptuous and sleek in equal measure with hefty tits and round hips but her waist and limbs were impressively lean. Alina’s expressive face was regal, her thick blonde locks were exceedingly long and shiny yet everything about her radiated a soft gentleness that could sooth Levi’s fraying nerves with a simple smile.

Alina was mysterious and reclusive, but at the same time, open and welcoming towards him… and her eyes. Those two big, captivating gray-green orbs that a man could fall into for eternity and it wouldn’t be long enough.

“Sure, that sounds good.” Levi said, wiping his hands on a dust rag he kept stuffed into a back pocket. “Let me get cleaned up first.”

“No! I mean… there is no need for that, Darling.” Alina said, smoothing over her initial outburst. “You smell good. Like honest sweat and toil. You smell like a Man, my Lion.”

He chuckled, “Which is it then, do I smell like a lion or a man? I don’t think lions actually smell that good.”

“You tease your poor Alina.” She pouted prettily and Levi’s jeans were starting to feel a little crowded in the crotch region again. “Well I say you can be both, so there! Now come and let me spoil you, Darling.”

She was hugging the door frame closely, one raised knee sliding slowly up the painted timber and her bountiful cleavage sandwiching the wall as she burned smoky gazes straight into Levi’s simmering libido. She was still dressed modestly for the warm season but her practical jeans appeared a fraction tighter today and her snug flannel shirt had several top buttons left unfastened revealing the upper swells of her large, hemispheric breasts.

Alina still wouldn’t set foot inside the garage, waiting for him to approach her instead. She had informed Levi yesterday that the boxes he was unpacking contained some painful memories so he didn’t question her hangups.

He had plenty of his own after-all.

“I’m sorry, Alina.” Levi said, stepping forward and letting her take him by the hand. “A lot of this is new to me. The attention, I mean.”

“I have been thinking about that.” She led him back into the house, was she deliberately swaying her hips like that or had Levi not taken notice before? “I see your distress and I ask myself ‘Alina, what have these wicked girls done to such a fine young man to make him feel this way?’ Then I remember what you have told me of them and it turns my frail old heart to cold iron.”

“I’m so sorry—”

“You don’t say sorry!” Anita whirled on him, her expression filled with stern, barely restrained anger. Her hand gripped Levi’s so hard it ached. “They say sorry! These hateful little… witches who have cursed your noble soul to quaver so and robbed my Lion of the courage to pursue life and love.”

Levi began to tremble.

He couldn’t help it. In that moment, Alina looked like nothing so much as the archangel of war; so bold, brave and righteous in her fury. The morning sunlight cut through a bay window and lit up her glossy curtain of golden hair like a halo behind her as she stood taller than any mere queen preparing to deliver royal judgment.

Brilliant, perfect and terrifying. Levi wasn’t certain if he was shaking more in naked terror or feverish arousal.

“Oh, Levi, my darling Levi…” She crooned, all of her heat falling away like a shroud as she pulled him into her welcoming arms to flutter adoring kisses along his brow. “Forgive your foolish Alina. She was not built to hate, but neither can she bear to watch you suffer further wounds at these harpy’s claws.”

“It—It’s okay…” Levi muttered, staring down at his feet as she tugged him forward again.

How did this happen?

The day had started so well. He woke up this morning feeling refreshed and hopeful. A smile on his lips, knowing it was Saturday and he could spend the whole day with his new… what, girlfriend? Lover? He had never had either of those things before and abruptly it seemed like he had found both in this incredible, exotic woman.

But the second she showed an ounce of fervent emotion, getting riled up on his behalf, all of Levi’s freshly minted self-confidence and brash bravado sloughed away like wet cement under a tropical monsoon.

What the hell was wrong with him?

“No, Darling. It is not okay.” Alina said, shooting a coy smile back at Levi over her shoulder. “But it will be. It will be...”

“More Ptichye Moloko, Darling?”

“Gah, no… two slices was plenty. Thanks Alina.” Levi covered a burp then rested a hand over his full stomach. “It’s delicious and super creamy but I don’t usually eat this much sweet food.”

They had ended up in her kitchen, eating at a marble-topped island bench. Well, Levi was eating. His blonde bombshell neighbor had an untouched mug of black coffee cooling by her elbow as she insisted on feeding him the baked confection one spoonful at a time.

It had been an uncomfortable experience at first. Levi didn’t wish to be infantilized by the stunning older woman but the obvious pleasure she took from watching him swallow each delectable bite was endearing.

More than simply endearing, it was downright arousing.

Because every time she slipped a spoonful past his hungry lips, Alina’s long lashes would flutter and soft pleased noises would pepper her quickening breaths. Lusty moans and gasps. Yearning sighs and whispered words in Russian that somehow sounded loaded with steamy innuendo.

It was just the two of them. Sat close together, alone in a modernly designed kitchen big enough for six people to cook side by side with room to spare. Everything was cool marble, polished timber and stainless steel, gleaming as if it had been torn straight out of an architecture magazine.

Lexi could look straight out over the expansive timber patio and view the sparkling waters of Lake Springfield through the grand french windows that lined one entire wall.

Alina was scooched up right beside him on a padded stool, leaning heavily against him and practically sitting in his lap as she set down the second empty plate. It had been scraped clean of every last crumb and Alina lifted a manicured finger to wipe a spot of chocolate ganache off Levi’s cheek and slide it back into his mouth.

“It makes me so happy to see you enjoyed it, Darling. I have not cooked for such a fine man as you in many years.”

He groaned but suckled dutifully as the mature blonde drew in a shuddering breath so deep it threatened to pop the top button off her straining flannel. Her nipples were clearly stiff and pushing thick thimble-shaped indents into the cotton fabric.

Levi was stiff too, or rather, utterly erect.

How could he not be with this gorgeous, erotically-charged knockout moaning and squirming like a pornstar as she pressed her sumptuous curves against his side? Levi’s manhood had unfurled urgently within the confines of his pants early into the first slice of cake and things had progressively harder from there.

“Ish wath weally good.” He slurred around her invasive digit and Alina snuggled in even closer to nibble at his earlobe.

He was speaking the truth and nothing but. However, the large portions of rich sweetness were settling dense as cinder blocks in his full belly and making Levi feel drowsy again. It was like he had leapfrogged straight over the sugar rush and nose dived directly into the resultant crash. His lips were gummy with a milky coating and his tongue was lacquered to the floor of his mouth.

Levi’s eyelids were heavy. His whole body felt heavy. Even his dick felt long, thick and heavy as it attempted to breach the zipper on his jeans and stage a daring escape.

A supportive arm wrapped around Levi’s bony shoulders and drew his nodding head down to rest in a place of warm, pillowy softness. Alina’s bountiful bosom. Then there was a tender touch upon the throbbing tent in Levi’s pants as his lusciously endowed lover began to stroke and fondle his insistent erection through the constraining denim.

“That is right… rest easy, my young Lion.” She murmured down to him. “And let your beloved sing you more of the tale of Boris Godunov.”

Then Alina started to hum…

Levi blinked his eyes under the bright stage lighting and squinted out into the empty stalls and boxes of the auditorium.

All was silent but for the quiet creaking of the weathered boards, worn smooth by decades of theater plays and their players, under his shifting weight.

The set was familiar; brightly coloured tapestries hung in the background while a raised wooden throne with a red velvet seat dominated the center. The sparest accouterments of a royal court were scattered here and there, enough to set the scene but not hinder the performers in their operatic choreography.

A single horn sounded, high and lilting before the rest an unseen orchestra joined it in the modest beginnings of an opening overture.

The rising symphony lapped at Levi’s heart like ocean waves. Buoying up his spirit and revealing new horizons of possibility to his fractured heart. An invisible chorus of harmonious voices soon joined it, praising and urging Levi towards a hither unforetold destiny.

Despite it all, the young man was uncertain. Unsure of what part he had to play in this celestial dance of the spheres.

Then Alina stepped out of the wings with a dramatic flourish of her upraised hands.

She was exquisite to behold in a backless mesh gown covered in jade sequins which glittered like gemstones under the spotlight. Her high, ripe breasts taxed the limits of a low cut sweetheart neckline and glowing jewelry dripped from her slender neck and wrists making the fetching Prima Donna look like a princess straight out of a fairy-tale.

She shone brighter than any of the glaring overhead lights, then Alina tossed back her glossy cascade of golden tresses, leveled her mesmerizing gaze at Levi and began to sing.

Her voice was flawless and pure as the rarest diamond. Ringing loud and clear enough to shake the crystals in the hanging chandeliers. Most of all, Alina’s song brimmed with passion as she glided towards Levi, smiling tearfully and pressing a dainty hand to his large, muscular chest.

Wait… was that right?

Looking down Levi realized he was wearing a costume. An intricately embroidered silver doublet with ruffles sprouting out the end of his sleeves and reaching almost to his knees. That was probably for the best because under that were only a pair of sheer azure tights (or were they called ‘Pantaloons?’) and silk slippers on his feet.

Alina hugged herself to him and in the dream she was shorter, smaller than Levi as he towered almost half a foot above her. She looked so beautiful and frail in his bearlike arms, a priceless porcelain figurine to be possessed and protected from rough, uncaring souls. Then in an upswell of the melody, she spun from his embrace and pointed theatrically towards the throne.

“Tsarina! Tsarina!” The hidden choir bayed like an angry mob of classically trained contraltos.

Alina’s expression was set with resolve as her peerless pitch soared and dipped in operatic agitation. The crash of symbols heralded the oncoming conflict and Levi glanced up to see a feminine figure clad in a flowing gold robe seated upon the throne with a noble handmaiden flanking each side of her wearing similar robes of a bronze hue.

All three wore obscuring veils over their faces, their hair tied up and hidden beneath tall conical headdresses but an aura of enmity roiled off the haughty trio as they presided proudly upon the raised dais.

Alina spat bile and accusations at them in a furious song and the orchestra swelled to match her vehemence. The strings screeched and the brass section blared, incensing Levi with a burning surge of anger towards the three aloof pretenders staring down their noses at Alina as she raged.

“Tsarina! Tsarina!” The chorus wailed beatifically.

Levi stalked forwards with a snarl, the boards thundering under each mighty step. Alina sang out one last impassioned cry and spun to reach for him. She was weak and trembling as though the musical solo had drained all the vigor from her body. Tears ran down her rosy cheeks and she collapsed against Levi’s hulking frame as he slung a thick arm around her lissome waist to support her.

“The throne is not yours!” He roared, his voice so deep and commanding that it rattled the fixtures. “That seat will bear no tyrants!”

Levi wasn’t sure where the words came from but the sentiment felt incontrovertible. It felt right.

He carried Alina along with him as the music built to a final crescendo. The percussion rumbled like a storm as Alina whimpered and mewled helplessly in his shielding embrace. She was so light in his grasp. Tiny and delicate as her slippered feet slid smoothly across the polished stage behind them and her adoring fingers roamed over Levi’s broad chest and back.

The taller of the two handmaidens stepped up to bar his path. As if the wrongheaded harlot thought she could stop him from claiming what was His. Then the cowardly harridan, hiding behind a mask and keeping Levi from his birthright, dared reach out to grapple him…

“Tsarina! Tsarina!”

With a powerful sweep of his arm, Levi knocked her hands away and tore off the reeling woman’s hat and veil in a single lightning movement.

She fell back with a scream as dark shoulder length hair spilled free and her tanned olive complexion was revealed. Smoky eyes that had gleamed with excitement whenever she was hurting someone stared back at Levi, wide with abject terror.

Carmen?!

Then the orchestra crashed in one final sweeping chord and all the lights went out, plunging the world into darkness.

Levi came to with a gasp of shock, then groaned in heartfelt pleasure.

He was still pressed against Alina, encompassed in her warm softness as she trailed her graceful fingers up and down his throbbing manhood. He was achingly hard, desperately aroused and her titillating touch was only exacerbating his carnal condition as she hummed sweet nothings into his ear.

“A—Alina, what are you doing?” Levi croaked into her smothering bosom.

“Shhhh~... Darling.” She crooned, calmly combing her manicured nails through his lanky hair. “I am merely servicing my Lion, my Man, as any good woman would. Did you rest well?”

Levi loved the way her rich, exotic accent seemed to wrap around every whispered word in the same way her clever fingers wrapped around his pulsating member. So affectionate and soothing with a hint of old school servility. As though a woman should make her man’s needs a priority rather than calculating what she could demand in return later.

“I was dreaming. There were lights and music…” He frowned as he tried to remember but the memory had evaporated as all his dreams did, leaving behind a lingering sense of righteous wrath. “What was that tune? More of that opera… I can’t remember the name.”

“‘Boris Godunov’ …and yes, Darling. I was recalling a memorable scene.” Alina sighed, it sounded reminiscent. Her fabulous hand ceaselessly pumped his jutting length and she let out a pleased moan as a spurt of his hot precum wet her working palm. “My Levi, you are so big and hard in your poor Alina’s hand. She can barely touch her fingertips together around your masculine girth.”

“Wha—what?” Levi hadn’t any trouble fisting his modest shaft in the past. Not that it was something he did often given his… issues but that wasn’t important right now. “Can you tell me more?”

“About your large manhood, Darling?” She giggled, but it was playful rather mocking and sounded like the ringing of chimes.

“No, no. About the… Hhrrnngh~ s—song.”

One of Alina’s hands was performing forbidden magics on his engorged manmeat as she tucked a finger under his chin, raising it so she could look down at him with those spellbinding emerald eyes.

“It comes from a later act in the opera, where Marina and Dmitri inflame the downtrodden populace to rise against the oppressive false Tsar; Boris.” She murmured, smiling tenderly and edging Levi with steady, luxurious strokes. “Marina wants her lover to take the throne for himself and restore justice for the common people. Why do you ask, Darling?”

Justice, huh?

For the first time in a long time, that actually sounded appealing. Not like some alien concept that applied to others but never him. Levi groaned and humped his hips up into Alina’s ecstatically gliding hand.

“I remember a face…” He grunted, seeking that gratifying release but Alina was watching him closely and slowed her tantalizing rhythm as she quirked a curious brow at him. Staving off Levi’s imminent climax and keeping him on edge. “Ca—Carmen, one of the girls I told you about. Alisa pleeease~...”

“Soon, my Lion. Soon…” She cooed and laid a smoldering kiss on his lips. Their tongues tangoed for a brief moment before Alisa pulled back with a misty eyed look on her gorgeous face. She tasted like summer berries. “My Babushka once told me that certain dreams may be prophetic. Do you recall if this Carmen hurt you in this vision?”

Levi wasn’t sure he would call it a vision but shook his head in the negative. “No, she tried but… it’s gone. I think she was scared? I was very angry.”

“Good, that is good.” Alina purred, sliding sensually down his lean body until she was squatting on her thick haunches between his spread knees and tearing at the buttons on her tight flannel shirt. “Such misguided girls should be taught a lesson. Learn how to properly regard a great man such as you, Darling.”

“They should?” Levi gulped as her evidently bra-less tits burst free and dropped heavily to envelope his veiny, tumescent stiffness.

Jeezus but those glorious milky melons were huge, and suddenly Levi was huge. Had he always been that big and broad in manly circumference? Alina certainly knew how to bring out the best in him.

”Mmmhmm~... yes, Darling.” Alina affirmed in a husky moan as she wrapped his twitching shaft in her pillowy titflesh until only his bulbous tip crested the deep valley of her immense pale cleavage. “You have told me little of this Carmen but already I know that a respectable young lady would not behave as she does.”

At first Levi thought the incorrigible Russian goddess was going to spit on his dick to lube up the passageway for his pleasure. Instead she tucked in her chin, poked out her agile tongue and traced a line of moist heat up the underside of his crown. He groaned and Alina giggled as a short spurt of precum bubbled out of him, oozing down between her massive silken globes.

“No?” Levi panted as his blonde lover started to roll and bounce her incredible rack around his straining shaft. This was a tittyfuck. He, Levi Millard, was getting a tittyfuck. “H-How should she behave?”

“Penitent. She would say ‘I am sorry, Levi. I had no hope of breaking a big, strong man like you.’” Alina sighed in pleasure and Levi could feel the warmth of her breath caress his tip. “She must learn that her measly strength and violence will only return against her tenfold if she pokes a true Lion.”

Levi could almost picture it as Alina described it, all the while she thrust and squeezed her firm abundant breasts around his ironclad length. Her perfect, yielding body was like a hidden temple, dedicated to carnal delights and this mature Aphrodite was giving Levi his first tastes of heaven while pouring sweet daydreams into his receptive ears.

“She would kneel, like I am kneeling, to wash your feet with her hair in supplication.” Alina cooed up at him, her gunmetal gray eyes glowing with promise and excitement. “She would beg for forgiveness with meek words on hot, hungry lips.”

As if to demonstrate her point, Alina bent her neck and sucked his bulging knob into her pouting mouth with a gratified moan. Her immaculate tits still couched his girth within an exquisite blend of softness and pressure as her talented tongue rolled and licked about his sensitive crown like a lollipop.

“Oh gawd, Alina! You’re amazing.” Levi gasped, one hand gripping the edge of the kitchen counter to keep from falling off the stool as his mind swam. “But I don’t think she—”

His buxom neighbor loudly slurped her way back off of his rigidity and wagged a finger at Levi in admonishment. “Tsk Tsk, Darling. What are these ‘Don’ts’ and ‘Buts?’ You are a Stud, a Hunk, a Lion. Does the Lion worry that the zebra will run? No, the Lion knows it will fight or flee but brings it down regardless.”

Her brief admonishment had brought a halt to the prurient proceedings at what felt like the worst possible time to Levi. His meaty magnitude was roaring for satisfaction, poking out from its pillowy prison as Alina stared patiently up at him and waited.

“Alina, pleeease~... don’t stop?” He whined with painful uncertainty.

“Was that a question or a demand? My Lion should be able to speak what he wants by now.”

Levi was alight with a consuming lust. It burned away his hesitation and wavering doubts. He wanted Alina. He wanted her and all the rapturous pleasures and potential she was offering him. He only needed to be bold enough to claim it.

To claim her, just as those glowing gray eyes silently begged him to do.

“I want you, Alina.” Levi growled, a little surprised at the gravel in his own voice as he seized her overflowing melons in both fists. “I want all of you and everything else you have to give me!”

“Yes, oh darling, yes! Take your beloved Alina.” The bodacious temptress wailed in elation as he began to buck his hips and forcefully fuck her giant tits. “Take me and make me yours. Show me how great of a man you are and I will give you anything you desire!”

Levi was half-standing, half-seated as he roughly manhandled her creamy cleavage, cramming his obscene thickness up into that heavenly softness. He was holding onto her perfect rosebud nipples like grips and pulling with careless cruelty as he hammered into her hefty mounds.

His enraged tip kept torpedoing in and out, bumping her finely sculpted chin but Alina didn’t object or cry out. Instead she moaned and squirmed in thrilling satisfaction, looking up at him adoringly through her long lashes and rubbing her denim clad thighs together.

“Tell me that you want me, Darling.” She crooned in that sexy goddamn accent of hers. “Say that you desire old Alina.”

“I want you! God help me but I want all of you, Alina!”

Her delicate hands reached up to clasp Levi’s pumping hips so she could pull herself further into his reckless thrusts. Her eyes seemed so large in that moment. Two impossibly vast gray expanses for him to fall into and drift away like an errant cloud.

“Tell me I am beautiful, my Lion. Am I as beautiful as those young flowers attending your college?”

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Alina! You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen!”

He meant every word of it. Levi had never beheld a woman as angelic in form and ethereal in appearance as Alina Makarova. No wonder she wore frumpy, concealing clothes and played the recluse. If she ever had a mind to don a nice dress and walk down a busy street, traffic fatalities would skyrocket.

…and Levi was fucking her big, perfect titties.

Alina wasn’t just letting him do it either. She wasn’t simply enduring it or playing it up for his sake. She had sunk her nails into his flexing buttocks and was urging him to ravish her bouncing, ivory titflesh like it was a pussy that owed him money and relishing every lurid moment of it.

“You don’t mean it, Darling.” She suddenly pursed her plush lips and looked away sourly. “You are merely toying with an old widow’s heart. You will use me to sate your manly needs then discard me for a younger, prettier girl. Someone like that strumpet Carmen.”

Levi almost stumbled when Alina broke eye contact and invoked his bully’s name. But she didn’t stop pulling at him, driving his pounding turgidity up between her mountainous breasts and pressing them tighter together between her elbows.

What the hell… fury seeped into the roiling vortex of Levi’s lust. Was that his pulse thundering in his ears or the bass of ghostly orchestral drums?

“You doubt me?!” He roared and he could swear that she shivered at the commanding edge in his tone. “You are mine, Alina! My Lioness. My Lover—”

“Then prove it, Levi!” Alina’s steely gray gaze shot back to him and her cheeks were crimson with passion. “Mark me as yours then show those hateful little tramps that you are a true Lion. My Lion!”

One of her hands had left his ass and was working furiously between her own thighs. Levi couldn’t see much past Alina’s mass of golden tresses and her gigantic careening cleavage but he could practically smell the liquid arousal soaking through her jeans.

He was close and it showed. Great globs and streams of his impending release ran from his plunging crown. Anita’s squeezing, jouncing mounds were slick with it. Wet and shiny with it. Pearly and glistening with his pungent leaking spend. There was so damn much of it. Far more than Levi had ever produced in any of his shameful private moments and he hadn’t actually cum yet.

Alina’s gray orbs were alive with eager anticipation, the tip of her pink tongue moistening her perfect ruby lips as she tirelessly rolled and bounced her cushiony warmth around his rampant manmeat.

She was waiting for his answer.

“I’ll do it! Fuck me but I want to do it.” Levi snarled, feeling so powerful as he released her inflamed nipples and sank his clawed fingers into the golden carpet of her flowing curls. “Now take it, my Love. Take all of my hard fucking dick and be mine!“

Alina’s victorious squeal was muffled as he shoved her pretty head down into her own out-thrusted tits and lunged his battering cock straight up into her hot, willing mouth. She quaked in his rough grasp, her superb figure racked by an obvious climax as he fucked her pornstar tits and covergirl face.

“Nnnnrgh~!”

Her ecstatic moans around his intrusive, gagging girth were the final straw. The vibrations hummed up his plundering shaft and into his blazing core where it arced lightning bolts of toe-curling intensity through every cell in his lean, spasming frame.

“Aaaaw~... Fuck! Yes, swallow it, my Lioness. Drink down my fat fucking load!”

Levi would have been shocked at the filthy words coming out of his own mouth if he could hear them. But he was cumming between his writhing lover’s irresistible lips and having an out-of-body experience at the same time.

He was floating above his body in some manner of liminal space, watching enthralled as he blasted ounce after fluid ounce of gooey seed straight into the curvy blonde angel’s smooth belly. It was as though Levi was a being made of brilliant light and all-encompassing orgasmic bliss temporarily untethered from his mundane physical existence.

A sweeping musical symphony reverberated his spiritual being, bolstering his soul and filling him with fresh confidence, courage and an authoritative drive. It was an arresting tune and Levi’s soul wanted to bathe in its unspoken genius, soak up its mysteries and decipher the thrumming power behind the warbling flutes and shrilling violins.

“Nyaaa~! Holy shit, Alina. I’m still fucking cumming!”

Levi was blinking fast when he came back to himself, like his eyelids were rapidly clicking camera shutters. He swayed like a punch-drunk boxer on his feet, only remaining upright by his grip on his sexy neighbor’s tangled hair.

Had he blacked out for a second there?

“Yes, Darling. More, feed your hungry Lioness more of your scrumptious seed! She needs every last drop of it…”

His erupting cock was no longer parked at the back of Alina’s gasping throat but was in her energetically pumping fists instead.

Both of her fists.

Levi had never stooped so low as to measure the length of his penis while erect. That had always seemed like asking for a whole new breed of anxiety to add to his already back-breaking burden of psychological baggage. Penis envy or genital dysmorphia or something equally unwelcome.

…but he was fairly certain his unquantified size would not have been categorized as a two-handed weapon.

Well, somebody was intent on making a liar out of Levi as Anita stroked and jerked his gushing magnitude and showered herself in the last few jets of his steamy baby batter.

“Oh Gawd, it’s everywhere.” Levi groaned, as he released his fistful of her silky locks and regained his balance. His knees were weak. “Are you okay, Alina? I’m not sure how that happened…”

What must have been a half pint of pearly jizz coated his lover’s radiant face.

It plastered her high cheekbones as it bubbled from her petite nostrils. It drooled from her smiling lips and dangled in sticky strings from her fine jawline. A wet sheen of it ran down her slender neck and polished the upper slopes of her prodigious bare breasts.

Should he make an appointment to visit a urologist? Because that seemed like a LOT…

“It was wonderful, Darling!” Alina giggled, sounding a little drunk as she batted her blonde lashes up at Levi. “I expected nothing less from my virile young Lion.”

She didn’t take her captivating gray-green eyes off of him—at least those had avoided his friendly fire—as Alina leaned in and took one last moaning lick at his crown to gather up anything left on her tongue then made a lewd display of audibly gulping it all down.

An approving growl rumbled in Levi’s chest as he watched his incredible minx preen under his hungry gaze and suddenly he didn’t feel so drained after-all. His flagging manhood countermanded the order to surrender the battle and sounded the clarion call as it rallied for another horny assault.

“You’re damn right it was.” He grunted, pulling Alina to her feet and tugging her sidelong onto his lap. “You are mine now, Alina. Marked and claimed. My woman.”

Levi could sense a powerful bond forming with this glorious, cum-stained Russian Goddess. As though a mile wide protective streak had awakened in him centered entirely around his precious Alina.

“Your Lioness?” She smirked wickedly and daintily dabbed at her chin with a corner of her flannel shirt. As if it would have any noticeable effect. “That is what you called me, no?”

“Alina; my Lioness,” Levi confirmed as he wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and pulled her close. “Bright and beautiful and fierce.”

“It makes me so happy to hear you say that, Darling.” She purred in her exotic accent as her small fingers curled around his stiffening tumescence again. “Because I wish to speak of the awful Carmen girl and your visions. Your Lioness thinks she knows what is to do.”

Levi let out another deep rumble of pleasure and buried his nose in her luxurious tresses, breathing in her floral springtime scent as Alina began teasing and stroking and whispering naughty promises into his ear...

Carmen stormed into the women’s locker room and kicked a plastic trash can across the awful beige tiles.

The hard toe of her white cleats folded in the side of the flying receptacle as it crashed off a bank of steel lockers and rolled to a stop beside the door to the showers.

What the fuck? One little love tap of a slide tackle and she was sent off field for the entire first half? Did the referee have money riding on the other team?!

Sure, the slide tackle had been a little rougher than normal and, okay, it had been targeted at Chicago State’s star striker; Melanie Oswald. But the fucking puta had it coming with all the showboating after her second fucking runaway goal in twenty minutes.

At least the crunch of her soccer shoes into the smarmy bitch’s ankle had been satisfying and the resulting scream of agony doubly so. Carmen let a hint of a smirk tug at her downturned lips at the memory as a small bolt of delicious excitement ran through her.

That was why people came to her games and packed the bleachers full. Football claimed the Friday night lights, fans could make a whole Saturday out of watching college baseball but women’s soccer got the tough timeslot of Sunday morning and still the roaring crowds showed in spades.

To watch Carmen crack a few kneecaps and curl show-stopping goals into the nets from outside the eighteen yard line like hurtling cannonballs. ‘Killer Carmen’ was what they chanted when she took the field and she relished the nervous glances she always garnered from the opposing team whenever she took her position as the attacking midfielder.

Like they weren’t sure which one of them would be limping off the pitch with their bright athletic futures left in the hands of whichever sawbones doctor or hackneyed physiotherapist their schools could afford. Because last time Carmen checked, The National Collegiate Athletic Association insurance scheme didn’t cover injuries in the underappreciated realms of women’s soccer.

One side of her mouth twitched up and her skin tingled delightfully as she thought about Melanie fucking Oswald crying as two teammates helped the rising starlet limp onto the sidelines and out of the match for the rest of the day.

Hopefully for the rest of the season.

The refs and rival coaches hated it, they hated her but the University of Illinois-Springfield fans loved Carmen and game attendance counted for a lot when it came to the University’s sports and athletics budget. Her coach was an old-school Chelsea bulldog named Holt whom the University had poached from across the pond. He didn’t mind her ruthless tactics. The bushy haired old hooligan was all but screaming “Sweep the leg, Johnny!” as Carmen slid in for the kill.

‘Legs Eleven’ was another name that Carmen knew was whispered reverently in private rather than chanted from the grandstands. That one did bring a look of feral glee to her face. ‘Eleven’ for the number printed in the blue and white team colors on the back of her jersey and ‘Legs’ for… well, did it really need saying?

She sized herself up in one of the tarnished full length mirrors set into the back wall of the changing room. Someone had scribbled “Andrew Turner has a ten inch tallywacker—‘92” in permanent marker across the top edge years ago but Carmen only had eyes for herself as she turned side on and posed.

Countless hours of training and cardio had honed her fit young body into a taut, sculpted weapon of mass destruction. Sure, her tits were only modestly sized half oranges sitting high and perky on her chest but her abs were toned and her pert rear was so round and tight it could derail trains.

But it was Carmen’s impressive legs that kept the Stadium lights on and she knew it. They were like twin tanned columns of sleek muscular definition that stretched for days out of the short ruffled hemline of her cobalt blue sport skort. Trim calves wrapped in white knee-high socks led up to sleek, bare hamstrings and quads that made grown men howl to the moon, topped with a thigh gap so wide it could frame a sunset.

She had avoided the grotesque, overtrained lower body musculature that plagued so many of her teammates by virtue of strict dieting and shining genetics. No pumped-up thunder thighs for Carmen. Only miles of lickable legs that drank in the sunshine and gave back in post-pubescent boners. The same powerful legs that could propel the Springfield soccer sensation into crowd pleasing bicycle kicks or crush a man’s skull between them with equal ease.

Presumably.

Carmen didn’t have much time for boys or men. Andrew Turner and his storied wang held little interest for her. She wasn’t a queer—Dios, a gay female soccer player, what a fucking cliche that would have been. No, Carmen Perez got her kicks out of being a consummate cock tease and merciless ball buster.

She had once spent half an post-game celebration sitting and wiggling in Derek Mason’s lap until the football quarterback had been so worked up that he hospitalized his own teams wide-receiver for winking at Carmen from across the party.

The poor guy had only been returning the lust-laden smoky gazes she had been sneaking at him all night but Derek hadn’t known that as he pummeled his one-time-friend into bone splintered oblivion on the frat house lawn.

Carmen had trimmed herself silly to the video she had captured on her phone for weeks after the ordeal. Great gushing climax after climax as she ground upon her thrusting fingers or rode her pillow to pussy soaked satisfaction.

Derek only avoided academic suspension by the good graces of the schools disciplinary board and the not inconsiderable number of field goals he had tallied throughout the football season.

It was even more thrilling when she actually got her own hands dirty, on and off the field…

“Please excuse, is this the women’s locker room?”

The feminine voice was exotically accented, probably eastern European and warm as Mexican hot chocolate. Carmen glanced over her reflection’s shoulder in the mirror, ready to vent some of her ever-present vitriol on the unwelcome gringo but paused at the intruder’s official-looking appearance.

The woman was tall, blonde and radiantly beautiful, poured into a dated office outfit that looked like it belonged to another decade and/or continent. A midnight black double breasted skirt suit with polished brass buttons, shoulder pads, ivory white cuffs and lapels hugged the stranger’s curvy figure like a glove.

The tight pencil skirt ended past her knees and tall black pumps adorned her small feet. Carmen couldn’t tell if she wore a blouse under the close fitting jacket but plenty of creamy bounty was poised to spill out of the straining garment as the lady reached into her abundant cleavage with two delicate fingers and smartly snapped out a business card.

“This area is for players only.” Carmen said carefully, eyeing the woman up and down. Was she perhaps a scout for the US Soccer Federation? “How did you get back here? Stadium security is supposed to—”

“Do you mean the nice men in orange vests?” The blonde fanned the air as though batting away pesky insects. “No bother. Once I told them why I am here, they directed me how to come on you.”

“They did what?” Carmen finally spun to face the strange woman, only to find her standing an arms breadth away. “Woah… back up a step, ’kay?”

“Apologies, I am told my English is passable but sometimes my words are confused.”

Carmen found herself looking up at the formally attired beauty. She had to be over six feet in height even before factoring in the added boost of her tall heels. Her golden hair was full, luxuriously long and naturally wavy. Carmen could see it swishing like a burnished blanket around her slim waist.

But what held the sadistic soccer starlet’s attention was the woman’s eyes.

They were the cool hard gray of pewter or maybe even steel. Despite the welcoming smile on the strangers lips, her transfixing stare had all the warmth of a Siberian winter behind it. Carmen shivered even as she fought to look away. It wasn’t easy, there was a magnetic pull to eyes so clear and captivating, then suddenly there was a small white card being held in front of the young midfielder’s face.

“My card.” Was all the explanation she got but Carmen leapt on the distraction.

It was a simple rectangle of eggshell cardstock with a name printed on it and nothing else. It felt oddly weighty for something so inconsequential, as though the swirls of black ink that formed the fancy text and flowery bordering was ground from the heart of a neutron star.

“Alina Makarova,” She read out loud, then checked the other side. Blank. “That’s all it says.”

“You must call me Ms Makarova on first acquaintance.” The newly introduced Alina said. Her wide smile bared a lot of teeth. “I am here to discuss your future.”

Carmen knew it, this was a scout or potential sponsor. Perhaps representing an overseas interest? It wasn’t unheard of. She didn’t have the best player reputation in the state but it was said that bad press was equally as valuable as any good press if you spun it right.

“So you’re looking for a piece of the Bad Girl of Illinois soccer, huh?” Carmen grinned and cocked her hip, making sure all her best assets were on display. “How much are we talking about here?”

Ms Makarova was rummaging through a rouge red leather handbag she had placed on the players bench. Was that a genuine goddamn Hermes Berkin? Carmen could practically smell the dollar signs wafting out of it.

“Bad girl. Yes, Carmen. Your actions have caught my interest.” The dazzling blonde said dryly, straightening up and returning her mesmerizing metallic scrutiny to the preening coed. “I say to myself ‘Alina, you have left this part of your life behind in Russia. That is for the best’ but then I hear about you, Miss Perez and here I am again.”

“Ha, couldn’t resist getting back into the biz?” Carmen smirked, this had all the hallmarks of opening negotiations. The double talk and vague flattery. The Russian angle was a new one though. “Took one look at me and came out of retirement, did you? Just so you know, I can’t use team or university names and logos in any promotions I feature in. The NCAA forbids it. Not that you’ll need them, people will recognize all of this.”

She gestured up and down the length of her uber-fit body with a waved hand and turned to present her profile; chin high, buns clenched and perky tits pushed out.

Alina gave her a skeptical once over but her smile and steely stare never faltered. “You are young and pretty, this thing is clear. But you are also a hard woman, no?”

“The hardest.” The vicious Latina confirmed with a slap on her own toned hip. Dios but why was it so hard to look away from those intense gray eyes? She felt like she was falling into them. “It takes more than fancy footwork to get all those bums in seats out there.”

“I understand something of bums but little of their relation to seats. It matters not at all, I am here to talk about you, Miss Perez.” The taller woman stepped up so close that Carmen had to lean back a little to maintain eye contact past the stupendous bosom thrust in front of her face. That felt important for some reason. “You asked how much we are discussing? My answer to you is… all of it.”

An exclusive contract then? Well, that sort of arrangement had its pros and cons but it wasn’t as if Carmen had prospective sponsors knocking down her door. While half the putas who played for the Bobcats had contracts with Adidas.

One benefit of being the division three leaders, she supposed. Carmen would love a chance to go all Tonya Harding on a few of their ankles…

“You… you haven’t told me who you represent.” She could smell Ms Makarova’s perfume, a fresh springtime scent like the air after a storm, and those big mesmerizing eyes kept boring into her. It all made Carmen feel a bit dizzy. “You don’t sound like a local…”

“I am here for you, Miss Perez. It is a private interest.” The alluring woman absently brushed a stray strand of Carmen’s raven hair back behind her ear and she leaned into the warm touch. “Tell me, why did you hurt that poor girl today?”

“Was an accident.” The answer was automatic, if a bit more abbreviated then usual. Lacking the standard false indignation and faux remorse.

“A lie. Any person with eyes saw it, many cheered.” Alina said with a regretful sigh and a shake of her head. “Why do you speak falsehoods to your new friend, Alina? Tell me again. Answer truthfully.”

New friend? Carmen didn’t really have any friends. Her teammates were too scared of her and even Britney and Kimmy were closer to co-conspirators than anyone she could actually trust.

But this gorgeous, older woman with her soft cherry lips and soulful penetrating eyes was making Carmen feel positively mealy-mouthed in her presence. She was standing so close, nearly pressing the young soccer player back into the mirror with her soft, generous breasts…

Oh, fuck. Wait, was Carmen gay after-all? She didn’t think so but she really wanted to make Ms Makarova happy for some reason she couldn’t quite articulate.

“Because I wanted to hurt her. I like hurting people, it makes me feel good.”

Shit… she articulated that fact well enough, damning as it was. Carmen struggled to order her thoughts and get hold of herself but it was difficult to think of anything with those deep gray pools drawing her into their icy depths.

“Thank you, Miss Perez. I feared as much but needed to be certain.” Alina purred down at her, though she didn’t sound scared at all. More like… smugly self-satisfied? “I have something special for you. It will help I think.”

The beguiling blonde held up her perfectly manicured hand and in it was a small plastic drink bottle. Unlabeled and sized to fit in a child’s lunch box. Was this the product she wanted Carmen to promote? Where was all the loud, colorful branding?

“Wha—what is it?”

“You Americans call it a ‘thicker shake’.” Ms Makarova’s reply sounded like a distant siren song. “It will soften some of those harder edges.”

Did she mean a thick shake? Carmen was on a strict high protein, low sugar diet that precluded junk food all together. She had dodged the freshman fifteen all together through a punishing eating and exercise regimen that made her fellow soccer players turn green around the gills when she explained it to them.

“Don’t…don’t wanna be soft.”

Carmen’s blurted protest was weak, even to her own ears. It was as though her own mind and will had already been reduced to mush under this incredible lady’s overwhelming presence. Trapped in the gravitational well of her forceful personality and those two brilliant hypnotic orbs.

“Women are meant to be soft, Carmen.” Alina said kindly, raising the Latina athlete’s hands in her own and pressing the plastic bottle into them. It was warm. “We cannot be like men, so big and hard. Strong, large and rigid all the time. This thing is not in our nature as women. We are soft and pleasing. Stupid little girls only hurt themselves when they struggle against this thing. Are you a stupid little girl, Carmen?”

The way she kept saying Carmen’s name in that rich, sonorous accent was unexpectedly thrilling. As though she were stroking the young student’s whole identity with her breathy words and those full, kissable lips.

“No, Ms Makarova. Not stupid.”

Somewhere in their deeply intimate conversation, the threaded cap of the drink bottle had vanished. The contents smelled terribly sweet and decadently creamy. Hot saliva began to pool on Carmen’s wagging tongue…

“Good girl, Carmen. Now drink it all down, don’t waste a drop.”

“Yes, Ms Makarova.”

She lifted the bottle to her lips, unusually eager to please and never taking her eyes off the older woman when Alina abruptly stopped her by placing a gentle hand on her wrist.

“One moment, dear Carmen. Do you know a fine young man called Levi Millard?”

Carmen blinked in confusion. She was desperately thirsty for the milky heaven that hovered mere inches from her lips and Ms Makarova wanted to know about that puny anglo wimp?

“Who… Mill-tard?”

“Ah, never mind. Drink up, dear.”