Daniel

The sound of the pen rolling on the floor seemed to echo in Daniel's head. He was still standing outside the bathroom, the image of Julia swallowing Rafaela burning in his retina. His hands trembled. His cock throbbed painfully against his pants.

"You want to come in, don't you?" Rafaela's voice came from behind the door, honeyed like honey dripping from a spoon.

Daniel swallowed hard. His tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth. Before he could answer, the door opened.

Rafaela was there—blouse still open, her pink nipples hardened by the cold air. His wet cock glistened under the fluorescent light, still dripping from Julia's mouth, who remained on her knees, eyes glazed, lips swollen.

"I... I should go back to mine," Daniel began to say, but his eyes couldn't leave Rafaela's pink member.

"No." "You should *kneel*." Rafaela picked up the pen from the floor with her toes, an absurd and elegant movement. Before Daniel could react, she wrote *"Rafaela"* in cursive on the inside label of his shirt.

Heat exploded in his chest like a punch. His knees hit the floor before his brain even processed what was happening. His zipper was already being pulled down by hands he didn't recognize as his own.

"Mistress," he groaned, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar. His tongue already licked the air, hungry. "Please. Let me. Let me serve."

Rafaela smiled and tugged at his hair.

"Swallow it all, Daniel. And don't spill a drop."

And he, like Julia before him, obeyed.

The mark on his shirt pulsed red.

Another of Rafaela's possessions.

The first drop of Rafaela's semen hit his tongue like a lightning bolt of honey and salt. Daniel gasped, her fingers digging into his hair as she pushed him deeper against her warm, damp skin. Her scent—cinnamon and power—filled his nostrils.

Julia watched, slowly masturbating with two fingers tucked into her wet panties, her eyes burning with possessiveness.

"Slower," Rafaela ordered, pulling Daniel's hair until his teary eyes met hers. "You don't deserve to be rushed."

He groaned, saliva dripping down his chin. His own fingers had carved grooves into his jeans, the friction almost painful.

Rafaela chuckled softly, a sound that made her stomach churn.

"Look at her," she whispered, tilting her head toward Julia. "That's how you're going to be. Dripping. Hungry. Marked."

Julia gasped as Rafaela suddenly grabbed the back of Daniel's neck and **** him against her until he gagged and swallowed convulsively.

The mark on the shirt's label was burning.

And Daniel discovered that he loved the taste of his own submission.