Bent by Steele Pt. 01

Just so we're clear: every character's 18+, consenting, and fully on board for this ride.

======

The front door slammed so hard the walls damn near shook. I looked up from my laptop, fingers hovering over the keys, as Anna's stiletto heels hammered the hardwood floor like a freaking machine gun--each click screaming she was pissed.

She stormed into the living room, her usually perfect hair a wild mess of curls, her cheeks flushed with a mix of rage and something else I couldn't place. Those hazel eyes, normally all warm and welcoming, were blazing now, like they could torch the whole damn house.

"Hey," I said, shutting my laptop and sliding it onto the coffee table. "Rough day?"

She didn't answer, just blew past me into the kitchen, her tension radiating like a heat wave. The fridge door creaked as she yanked it open, snagging a bottle of our go-to Pinot Noir.

The cork popped with a sharp crack, and she poured herself a hefty glass, hands shaking just enough to notice. She took a long swig, then leaned against the counter, looking stiff as a board but brittle, like she might snap any second.

"I didn't get the promotion," she said, her voice tight and cutting.

"What?" I shot back, floored. "You busted your ass for that. It was in the bag!"

"Apparently not," she said with a bitter laugh that stung to hear. "Victoria handed it to Adam. The guy who needs a Post-it note to tie his damn shoes."

I got up and walked over, reaching out to put a hand on her arm. "Did Victoria say why?"

"Oh, she had a mouthful," Anna said, smirking like it hurt. "Said Adam's 'willing to go the extra mile'."

I pulled my hand back, frowning. "You always said he was a total slacker."

She rolled her eyes, dripping sarcasm. "Come on, Liam. Don't play dumb. 'Extra mile.'" She mimed a blowjob, tongue poking her cheek, crude and unmistakable.

"Seriously?" I blinked, trying to wrap my head around it.

"Everyone knows about their little 'strategy session' in Hawaii. You think they were crunching numbers over Mai Tais?"

I grappled with the mental picture, my brain short-circuiting. "So, Adam and Victoria?" I couldn't even imagine it--five-foot-nothing Adam Langer with that Amazonian she-hulk. It didn't compute. Then my mind flipped it--Victoria on top, her futanari side in play. "Holy shit."

"Earth to Liam," Anna snapped, pulling me back.

"Sorry, that was a freaking nightmare image," I muttered, shaking it off.

She let out a dry, bitter chuckle that didn't reach her eyes.

"I had no clue Adam swung that way," I said, still reeling. "Didn't he date that twitchy blonde--uh, what's her name?"

"Melanie. He married her six months ago. I went to their wedding; you stayed home to watch the game with Max."

Damn, wives and their elephant memories for every screw-up. I steered us back before she turned that fire on me. "So Adam jetted off with Victoria for some tropical 'bonding,' even though she's packing a cock--and he's a newlywed?"

She shrugged, downing her glass and setting it down with a sharp clink. "Looks like it. And it paid off."

"That's... that's nuts. And messed up, right? There's gotta be something you can do."

"Like what?" She arched an eyebrow, challenging me. "File a complaint with HR? They're all Victoria's lapdogs. No, Liam. This is how it works. And I'm done playing nice."

A cold chill snaked up my spine at the steel in her tone. "What're you saying, Anna?"

She pushed off the counter, stepping closer, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that knocked the wind out of me. "I'm saying if sleeping with Victoria is what it takes to get ahead, maybe that's what I'll do. It's not even cheating--she's a futanari, Liam. It's not the same."

I blinked, thrown off by her logic, and smirked despite the jab in my gut. "It'd be cheating even if she was just a regular chick, Anna. Don't bullshit yourself."

Her eyes flared, and she closed the gap, her perfume hitting me like a punch. "Don't turn this into some moral crusade. It's about claiming what's mine."

I clenched my fists, fighting to keep my voice steady. "This isn't you, Anna. You're better than this."

"That job is mine, Liam!" she snapped, her voice cracking like a whip.

I stared at her, the woman I loved morphing into someone I didn't know. "If you go through with this," I said, slow and heavy, each word like a brick, "I don't know if I can stick around."

She laughed--a cold, brittle sound that iced me over. "Maybe you oughta ask yourself why my drive scares you so bad."

"It's not your drive," I shot back, my temper flaring. "It's you being ready to chuck everything--us, your damn integrity--for a fancy title."

"Integrity doesn't pay the bills, Liam." She turned away, flicking her hand like she was swatting a fly. "I'm hitting the shower. We'll hash this out later."

I watched her stalk off, the sway of her hips a cruel reminder of the fire. The shower kicked on, its steady hiss drowning out the sound of my heart splitting down the middle.

I knew we weren't gonna "hash anything out later." Anna was a freaking steamroller--once she set her mind to something, there was no stopping her, no turning back.

======

The next morning, my phone buzzed, waking me. Anna's name glowed on the screen, and my stomach sank. We hadn't spoken since last night, and I wasn't ready for this.

"Liam?" Her voice was soft. "I'm talking to Victoria today. Please don't hate me. We need this promotion."

I sat up, my gut twisting. Was this really about us, or just her ambition?

"Liam?" she pressed when I didn't answer.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely audible. "I... I'll look the other way."

Why did I do it?

She cornered me, a single phone call. That was my wife and thats how she always have been. Decisive. Strong. Everything I wasn't. They say opposites attract.

The words burned, but I loved her. I wanted her to win. The thought of her with Victoria--tall, commanding Victoria with her dark hair and piercing blue eyes--made me nauseous. Still, I forced the words out, hoping she'd hear the ache in them. Hoping she'd back down.

She didn't. "Thank you," she whispered before hanging up.

I sat there, staring at the phone, the silence deafening. My mind churned with images--Anna in Victoria's office, Anna smiling at her, Anna... I shook my head, but the thoughts clung like shadows.

That evening, she came home, her mood darker than the storm clouds outside. The door slammed, her face a mask of fury, her eyes red-rimmed. She kicked off her heels and dropped her bag without a word.

"Anna?" I asked, cautious, already sensing the answer.

She turned to me, her lips quivering. "I told her," she whispered. "I said I'd go the extra mile--two miles. And she... she rejected me."

Her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands, sobs shaking her frame. I stood frozen, relief warring with guilt. How could I feel relieved when she was shattering?

I stepped closer, hesitating before pulling her into my arms. She clung to me, her tears soaking my shirt. "I'm so sorry," I murmured, unsure what I was sorry for. For her pain? For my limits? For not being enough?

She cried until exhaustion claimed her, and I carried her to bed, tucking her in before retreating to the living room. Sleep eluded me, my mind a storm of anger, sadness, relief, and shame. I was drowning.

======

On Monday, a few days later, she came home different--still not herself, but closed off, like she was hiding something. Her movements were stiff, her eyes dodging mine as she poured herself a glass of wine.

"Anna?" I followed her into the kitchen. "What's wrong?"

"I need a minute, Liam."

Three years of marriage had taught me that when she got like this, pushing her--or even trying to play the comforting husband--would just land me on the couch. She needed space. I kept myself busy with laundry and random chores, staying close enough to hear her if she called. An hour and a half later, nothing. I wandered back to the kitchen. The wine bottle was down to a third.

"Maybe ease up on the booze, babe?" I said.

She took a long sip before answering, her voice flat. "Victoria called me into her office today. She... she hinted at something. Okay, that's a bullshit lie. She flat-out said it."

"Said what?"

She turned, her face flushed. "She said I could get the promotion... if you'd go out with her and Susan for a weekend."

"She what? What? Fucking what?"

"Liam," she said, her voice softening, almost pleading.

"Sorry, for a second I thought you said your boss wants to whisk me off on a vacation."

"She does."

"Like, all of us--you, me, her, and her wife? Some company retreat thing?"

"No. Just you, her, and Susan," Anna said, barely above a whisper.

"Oh." I snatched her glass and chugged it in one go. "Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Well, there goes the promotion, but a sexual harassment lawsuit could set us up for life. High five!"

She left my hand hanging, her face blank.

"Why the hell would she even--? I mean, how the fuck...? She doesn't even know me."

"She saw you at the company pool party," Anna said, her voice shaky.

"We barely talked--maybe a sentence, two at most. She hardly noticed me."

"She was... taken with you." Anna took a deep breath. "She knows you used to model. She started the whole convo asking about you--wanted to know if you're still doing shoots for Banzo."

"That's borderline creepy. No, scratch that--it's creepy as hell. Who is this chick, and what makes her think--?" It hit me like a freight train. Anna wasn't pissed or upset. She wouldn't meet my eyes. She was ashamed. The floor seemed to tilt under me, my stomach twisting. I stepped back, shaking my head. "Tell me you told her to shove it. Tell me you didn't even consider this."

She blushed, looking away. "I... I kinda hinted you might be up for it."

My blood roared in my ears. "You what?"

"It's not a big deal."

"The hell it isn't--"

"It's just a weekend," she cut in, defensive, her voice trembling.

"So you're cool with me jetting off with your boss--who's got a thing for me--and her wife, the ex-Miss USA? Both of them packing who-knows-what downstairs, planning who-knows-what?"

"Don't be a bigot, Liam."

"I've got zero beef with folks like her--don't pull that card." I waved a finger, dropping it fast when she squinted. She wasn't used to me pushing back like this. "What happened to 'for better or worse, till death do us part'? I don't remember any fine print about opening our marriage to... whatever the hell this is."

"It's not cheating if it's for the promotion. You said you'd look the other way."

"Looking the other way when it's you is one thing," I growled, teeth gritted. "But you're asking me to pimp myself out for your job. Do you hear how fucked up that sounds?"

Her face crumpled, and she set her glass down, hands shaking. "I just... I don't know what else to do, Liam. I can't lose this. I can't let Adam win."

"So your fix is to pimp me out to your boss?" I yelled, the words bouncing off the kitchen walls. "That's your genius plan?"

"It's not like that!" she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. "I'm trying to save us! Our future!"

I shook my head, nausea rising. "No, Anna. You're saving yourself. And you're ready to burn everything--our marriage, my dignity--to do it." She opened her mouth, but I cut her off. "I'm not doing it. End of story."

Her face hardened, arms crossing over her chest. "Fine. But don't come crying to me when we're stuck in this shithole forever because you couldn't suck it up for one lousy weekend."

That stung deep. "This isn't about the house, Anna. It's about us. And if you can't see that, maybe we're already toast."

Her eyes widened, but she didn't back down. She spun on her heel and stormed to the bedroom, the door slamming so hard it rattled the frame. I stood there, hands shaking, heart pounding like a jackhammer. I didn't have a clue how to fix this mess.

======

The next day, I was still a freaking wreck when Anna got home. She crashed onto the couch like a bag of bricks, eyes bloodshot, mascara streaking down her cheeks like a cheap Halloween mask. Her sobs shook her whole body, loud and jagged. "Liam, I had a meeting at 9 this morning," she choked out. "It was a total disaster."

My stomach dropped like a rock. "Wait, what? But Tuesday mornings are always yoga class--you said there're never meetings 'cause of Corona, most people work from home."

She shook her head, tears splattering onto her lap. "Not today. Had to skip it--mandatory meeting, all the regional managers and Victoria were there. I bombed it bad."

I plopped down beside her, panic clawing my throat, but I shoved it down. "Hey, you're probably too harsh on yourself. I know you--you're sharp as hell. You were probably good, they didn't even notice."

"Oh, they sure did," she said, her voice cracking as she buried her face in her hands. "I couldn't find my damn PowerPoint on the network drive--stood there like a moron, forgetting words, tripping over my own tongue. And it's all because Victoria. I was a mess, Liam--I couldn't think straight knowing she screwed me over like that."

"Anna, come on," I said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tight. "You're your own worst critic. I bet it wasn't half as bad as you think."

She looked up at me, eyes wild with desperation. "No, Liam, it was worse. Lisa called me after--ripped me a new one. Said maybe I'm not cut out for her team. Said I'd be better off in Leo's team, shuffling papers as a Coordinator or some crap--a damn pay cut! Imagine that--me, a Coordinator? After all the time I've invested, all I've compromised, all my hard work--gone, just 'cause Victoria's playing favorites?" She broke down again, sobbing harder, her voice rising. "I've given everything for this, Liam--everything! And if they shove me into that shitty role, I swear I'll quit on the spot--I won't take that insult!"

The mortgage loomed in my head like a damn guillotine, and her words lit a fire in my gut--fear for her, fury at Victoria, and now a cold sweat knowing her fiery ass would torch her job without a backup. Me and my preschool assistant paycheck could never shoulder our finances alone--mortgage, bills, all of it. "We'll figure it out, okay?" I said, voice tight. "We always pull through. You're tougher than this--I'm not letting her bury us."

"I don't know if we can this time," she wailed, staring at the floor, her whole body trembling. "I've tried everything--begged, groveled, sold my damn soul--and I'm still not cutting it. You think I want this for us? For you? I'm failing you, Liam--if I quit, we're done!"

Her guilt trip slammed into me like a sucker punch, twisting my insides. I squeezed her hand harder, my knuckles whitening. "That's bullshit--you're not failing me. Victoria's the one screwing us, not you. She's the goddamn snake here."

She shook her head, tears streaming faster, her voice breaking into a frantic edge. "You don't get it--I can't lose this! I talked to her again today--after Rose tore into me. I said I'd do whatever it takes--anything, Liam, for us! She laughed in my face--said she's not into me. That's why Adam's sitting pretty now. She's tossing me aside like trash, and it's killing me--it's killing us!"

My gut churned, rage at Victoria boiling up, but her "for us" stuck in my craw, needling me with doubt. "Anna..."

Her voice dropped to a ragged whisper, her eyes locking on mine like a lifeline. "She's not interested in me 'cause she's got her sights set on you, Liam. She's doing this to get to you!"

I yanked my hand back. "I've barely even met the woman!"

"You don't get it," she said, her voice cracking. "She's... a control freak. She gets off on power. And you--you're like some shiny new toy she wants to play with."

I shook my head, my brain spinning. "Anna, this is batshit crazy. Even if she's into me, I'm not about to hop into bed with her just to save your job."

"I'm not asking you to sleep with her!" she begged, her voice shaking. "Just... hang out with her and Susan for a weekend. That's all she's after. If it keeps my job--or hell, gets me the promotion--isn't that worth it?"

I stared at her, my mind racing a mile a minute. I couldn't wrap my head around this. But the way she was falling apart--I couldn't just tune it out. I took a shaky breath. "Okay, I need the rundown. What's she want from me? What's going down this weekend? I might be more down for it if I know where the lines are."

She shook her head. "She didn't spell it out."

"Something freaky? I don't wanna sound like an asshole, but you know what they say about futanari girls and their sex life."

She didn't say a word, just stared at me with those teary eyes.

I felt like I was gonna puke. "Anna, I can't."

She broke down again, sobs tearing through her, and it ripped my damn heart out. I just sat there, totally lost. Our whole life was going to shit, and I didn't have a clue how to stop the bleeding. "Look, babe," I said, my voice shaky but firm, "ask her what this is all about. Then we can sit down together and figure it out, okay? I'll keep an open mind. I promise."

======

The next day, I was still wrestling with this shitshow when Anna burst through the door, grinning like she'd won the lottery. "Liam! You won't believe this!"

I looked up, caught off guard but stoked to see her finally smiling. "What's up?"

She practically danced into the room. "Victoria called me in this afternoon. She's giving me the promotion! Regional manager!"

"No way! Hell yeah!" I jumped up, wrapping her in a hug and planting a deep, fired-up kiss on her. "Told you so, didn't I? The bitch finally came to her senses, huh? Wait. Did you say Regional manager?"

"I know. Not even the gig I was gunning for--it's bigger. More responsibility, sure, but bigger pay, killer perks, and way more doors opening up."

I clapped my hands, pure glee washing over me. "And we didn't even have to pimp me out for it! I knew she'd see the light."

"Oh, no, you're still going this weekend."

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? You said you'd do it."

"I never--Anna, hold up. All I said was I'd hear her out and we'd talk it over. I didn't sign up for shit."

"You told me last night you'd keep an open mind and you were cool with it."

"Anna, I didn't--" She had a damn PhD in gaslighting, but this wasn't my first rodeo either. "Listen, and listen good. I never said I'd go. I said I might consider it if we got the details on what's what."

"What do you want me to say?"

"For starters, admit I didn't agree last night to jet off with your boss."

"So what now? I'm supposed to call Victoria and tell her to scrap it all 'cause we had a wires-crossed moment?"

"Wires-crossed? Anna... Goddammit. What'd she say to you? What does she want from me?"

She waved it off, still smiling like it was no big deal. "Chill, Liam. It's nothing heavy. Just a quick trip. You'll have a blast."

"Babe, I need to know what's going down. I'm not walking into this blind." And just like that, it hit me--I was actually going.

"You think I'd let anything sketchy happen to you? This is for us--our future. That's cool, right? It'll set us up."

The ground felt like it was slipping out from under me. "Anna, this is nuts."

"Come on."

"I can't keep playing these games."

Her face hardened. "Liam, I'm not asking you to be thrilled about it. I'm asking you to step up--for me, for us. Is that too much to ask?"

I opened my mouth, but she grabbed my hand and yanked me outside. "Check it out," she said, pointing to a slick black BMW parked in the driveway. "My new company ride. Starting next month, my salary's doubling--damn near tripling. You get what this means for us?"

I stared at the car, my stomach churning like a washing machine. I wanted to say no, to put my foot down. But her hope, her desperation--it was like a sucker punch. I couldn't crush her. "Fine," I muttered. "I'll do it."

She threw her arms around me, squeezing tight. "Thank you, Peanut. I knew you'd come through."

"You said you'd stop calling me that."

"Who's my favorite tastiest Peanut?" She kissed me several times, small pecks on my forehead. "You're the best husband ever."

I didn't say a word, my head spinning. What the hell had I just signed up for?

======

Friday I was about to hop on a damn bus to the airport, duffel bag slung over my shoulder, when a sleek black limo rolled up out of nowhere. A chauffeur--suit crisp, shades on--stepped out and tipped his head. "Mr. Liam Bender? This way, sir."

I froze, my jaw damn near hitting the pavement. What the hell? I mumbled something like "Uh, okay," and slid into the back, the leather seats swallowing me up. The ride was smooth as hell, the city blurring past tinted windows, and for a hot minute, I felt like a freaking rock star--VIP treatment, top-shelf shit. But then the knot in my gut twisted tighter, cutting through the buzz. This wasn't a victory lap; it was a one-way ticket to God-knows-what.

The limo didn't just drop me at the terminal--it cruised straight through some gated side entrance, all the way to a private jet waiting on the tarmac, engines humming low.

I stepped out, the wind whipping my hair, and just stood there, floored. This is next-level, I thought, half-impressed, half-freaked out. The chauffeur grabbed my bag like it was no big deal, and I followed him up the jet's steps, my sneakers squeaking on the metal.

How should I even start with Victoria Steele? Probably with her best accessory first--her wife, Susan.

The former Miss America was tall, damn near statuesque, her blonde hair swept up into an elegant updo that screamed old-school glamour, every strand locked in place like it was daring the wind to try her. She wore a haute couture Versace gown--straight off the runway, no question--a deep sapphire number with a plunging neckline that hugged her physique like it was custom-made for her, which it probably was. The fabric clung to her sleek frame, accentuating every curve and hard line: the swell of her chest, the taper of her waist, the powerful flare of her hips. The slit up one leg flashing a glimpse of toned thigh with every step, like a tease wrapped in a power move. Around her neck hung a diamond choker--big, chunky stones that caught the light and threw it back like they owned it--paired with matching drop earrings that swayed just enough to draw your eye. Her Louboutin stilettos, jet-black with red soles, elevated her stride to an effortless grace. Her poise was extraordinary--shoulders back, chin up, exuding confidence and power.

Graceful. Hot. Sizzling hot.

If Susan was impressive, then Victoria Steele was a goddamn force of nature. She was 35, stood 6'3"--a freaking tower--her dark hair tumbling straight down her back, gleaming like polished obsidian, framing those piercing blue eyes that could cut through steel. Her getup was a straight-up Armani power move--jet-black blazer, sharp as a blade, layered over a sheer white top that was damn near criminal. The jacket hugged her Amazonian frame like it was built to bow down to her, all clean lines and no bullshit, screaming she ran the show--and everyone in it. Underneath, that top clung tight, hinting at her round breasts and powerful curves, a tease wrapped in control. No jewelry, no fluff--just pure, badass authority stitched into every seam. The blazer traced her broad shoulders, proof she'd clawed her way to an empire, and flared over hips that didn't just sway--they steamrolled. Multimillionaire vibes poured off her, the kind of clout that didn't need a single damn accessory to flex. I stood there, half-stupid, feeling like a gnat under her magnifying glass, wondering how the hell I'd landed in her sights.

"Liam!" Victoria's voice cut through the air like a damn whip as she stretched out a manicured hand. Her grip was firm--too firm--and lingered just long enough to make my skin tingle. "Finally. We've been itching for this. Anna's spilled all kinds of dirt on you."

"Oh. Uh, thanks," I stammered, already feeling like a deer in headlights, as both women towered over me.

Susan glided forward, her floral perfume hitting me like a wave, her own commanding vibe impossible to ignore. "A pleasure, Liam," she purred, planting a slow, deliberate kiss on my cheek that sent heat racing up my neck. "You're even hotter up close."

My face went up in flames. "Uh... thanks. Um, what do you mean 'up close'?"

"Your boxer-shorts gig for Ganza," she said, her voice smooth as silk.

"Oh." I blushed harder, rubbing the back of my neck. "That was four years ago--I was nineteen. Those pics were shamelessly Photoshopped. I don't have a six-pack now, and I sure as hell didn't back then."

"Those four years look damn good on you," Victoria said, flashing a smile that actually softened her up--made her less of a goddamn titan for a second. Up close, Victoria Steele had a gorgeous face, all sharp angles and striking features, but you'd never notice unless she let you. Usually, she was too intimidating to even try looking past the steel in her eyes. "Four years added some maturity, a little masculinity."

"Tha--thanks." That actually hit me in a good way. I'd always been paranoid about my baby face--last guy in high school to sprout any damn facial hair--so her words landed like a rare pat on the back.

The private jet gleamed--polished wood, soft leather, champagne chilling on ice. This is freaking unreal, I thought, awe duking it out with the nervous churn in my gut.

There was a big, plush sofa that screamed Victoria's name, so I plopped down on a two-seater across a little table. Susan slid in right across from me, curling up like some elegant damn tiger, all grace and quiet power. Then, to my shock, Victoria pointed at me to scoot over toward the window.

"Liam, that's my spot," she said, flashing a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Sheldon Cooper, much?" I quipped.

"Who?"

Guess she wasn't into Big Bang Theory. Probably too busy raking in millions while I was vegging out on the couch.

"That's my spot--unless you'd rather park it on my lap," she added, her voice dripping with something dark and sticky, those piercing blue eyes nailing me to the wall.

"Uh, window's cool," I muttered, scrambling over like a spooked kid.

She slid in right next to me, so close I could feel the heat rolling off her. Then she slung her arm over our shared armrest, her fingers brushing mine, that smirk of hers sharpening like a blade. "I don't play nice with sharing. Been waiting to plant my flag on you."

I jerked my hand back, tripping over my tongue. "Oh, uh, take it, all yours."

Susan let out a little laugh, "She's territorial--better watch your step."

Victoria grabbed the champagne, pouring a tall glass for Susan, then one for herself. Next she took a slow sip, acting like I wasn't even there. Susan nodded toward me, rolling her eyes like get a load of this chick.

"Oh, my bad," Victoria chuckled, sliding her glass my way before pouring herself another. "Usually just me and Susan up here." She raised her glass. "Here's to dangerous ideas, Liam."

"To dangerous ideas," Susan chinked my glass.

My dad was an abusive drunk, so I rarely drink, but I needed to dull the edge, plus I was kind of scared. "I'll drink to safe, well-tested moves," I said, raising the glass, hands shaky as hell. "I leave dangerous ideas to other people."

"You being here says you've got at least one brewing." Victoria locked eyes with me.

I clinked glasses, fumbling, "Uh, yeah, cool, cool." Smooth like a porcupine's handshake.

"Why so jumpy, Sweetie?"

"Me?" I clutched the glass, trembling like a damn leaf. "Nah, I'm good--totally chill."

Susan hit me with a smile so warm it had to be rehearsed--probably perfected in front of a mirror for hours. That smile could make any dude--or hell, anyone, futanari fan or not--start swinging just to see it again. It was lethal, and I was already half-gone.

I lifted the glass to my lips and noticed Victoria's lipstick smeared on the rim. No way in hell was I asking for a new one--too chickenshit--so I froze, stuck.

Susan sipped her drink, looking like sex on a stick. She could probably make taking out the trash look like a damn striptease. "So, Liam, you still modeling?" she asked, all laid-back.

"Nah, hated that crap." I paused, "I, uh, work at a preschool now. Assistant gig."

Victoria's eyebrows flicked up, a smirk tugging her lips. "Oh, that sounds... rewarding." Her tone screamed she'd rather choke on nails.

"Yeah, it is," I fired back, too quick. "Kids are the best part, you know?" The silence hit like a brick, and I couldn't shut up. "It's not raking in cash or anything, but it's solid."

Victoria nodded, twirling that wedding ring--a freaking boulder that could buy my ass ten times over. "That's what counts, right?" I couldn't tell if my wife's boss was screwing with me, but that diamond was giving me the finger loud and clear.

"Damn straight," I said. "I'm studying to be a lead teacher, though."

"You not drinking, Liam?" She lost interest in pretending to be interested in my life.

"Oh," I glanced at the lipstick-smudged glass in my hand, still too scared to call it out, and took a sip. "Wow, that's some good stuff."

"Careful," Victoria smiled, all slow and sly, "some drinks go down easy but knock you flat later. Kinda like me."

Then it hit me--she'd set this up, sliding me her glass on purpose, playing her little mind game. Anger flared up hot. Who the hell does she think she is? Just 'cause I'm scraping by on 40K a year while she's probably clearing that before breakfast? (I'd seen her make millions on one call later.) Screw them both. "Yeah, it's a solid job," I said, voice steadying. "The kids are the real deal--better than most adults. No bullshit, no politics, no head games. When they're into you, you just know it."

"Well, I think it's amazing," Susan said, her smile warm and real. "A guy who's into kids? That's rare--special."

I was already screwed six ways to Sunday. The whole damn flight to Cancún is going to be a slow-motion mind fuck, and Victoria Steele? She was mopping the floor with me.

Then she went and peeled off her jacket.

It was casual as hell, just a quick shrug like she was kicking back after a long day. No big deal, right? Except... underneath, she had this sheer white top--thin enough to see my damn life flashing before my eyes. My brain shorted out, full-on blue screen.

That fabric hugged her Amazonian bod like it was painted on, see-through just enough that every muscle twitch, every move underneath, hit me like a freight train. She stretched, slow and lazy, arms up over her head, showing off a sliver of that toned stomach as she rolled her shoulders. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was eating it up.

She didn't even glance my way after that. Didn't have to.

Then she turned the heat up a notch. Still flipping through that damn menu, she started squirming under her sheer top, hands sliding underneath like she was rassling a freaking octopus. She twisted toward me, smirking like she'd caught me red-handed. "Got a real gentleman on our hands, huh?"

I blinked, thrown off. "Sorry?"

She leaned in, voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Sitting there, playing dumb like you don't see a damsel in distress. Come on, Liam, lend me a hand."

My face went full-on inferno, cheeks blazing as I fumbled with her bra strap through the fabric--fingers shaking like a leaf, screwing it up six ways from Sunday.

She chuckled, "Having a blast back there, aren't you?"

I finally got it loose, and she yanked the bra free, letting out this big, over-the-top sigh--like she'd just dropped a fifty-pound weight--stretching her arms wide. "Oh, sweet Jesus, that's better," she groaned, loud enough to make it a damn performance. Then she flicked her eyes at me, "Forgive me for being so... at ease, Liam, but these damn things are a torture rack. You can't hold that against me, right?"

I mumbled something like, "Uh, no worries," my voice a total train wreck, still reeling from her handsy stunt and that sheer top now showing off everything.

Victoria stretched again, hands behind her head, shoving her chest forward--those tits damn near popping through the top, nipples teasing the fabric like a neon sign. I couldn't stop myself; my eyes locked on, brain in full meltdown. She caught me staring, didn't say a word--just let that smirk tell me she knew I was toast.

I tried to play it off, snatching the safety card from the seat pocket and burying my nose in it, gripping my seatbelt like it was a lifeline. I just needed something--anything--to keep my head from exploding.

She clocked it, of course, and pounced like a damn cat. She leaned over, her broad shoulder jamming into mine as she peeked at the laminated emergency crap I was pretending to read.

"Mmm, look at you, all responsible and shit," she said, voice dripping with mock. "You prepping for a crash, or you just into following orders?"

I swallowed hard, eyes bouncing over the page like a pinball.

She tapped a diagram with those long-ass fingers--the "brace position," where you bend forward, hands behind your head. "That's a solid look for you, don't you think?"

I damn near choked on my own spit. "What--?"

She smirked, dropping her voice low and tight, like it was just us. "Head down, hands behind your neck--obedient, submissive, ready for whatever's coming. Fits you to a T."

My face lit up like a firecracker, bright red and ready to blow. I slammed the brochure shut, hands shaking.

Then Susan's foot shot out under the table, nailing Victoria with a sharp kick. "Knock it off!" she snapped, her voice cutting through the haze.

Victoria blinked, all fake innocent. "Knock what off?"

"Being you," Susan fired back, rolling her eyes.

"That makes zero sense," Victoria said, smirking. She grabbed Susan's hand and pulled her into a long, deep kiss. Victoria's lips were sharp and painted deep red, contrasting with her pale skin. Susan's were softer, a natural pink, giving off a sultry vibe. Victoria kissed her hungrily, their lips and tongues colliding in a loud, passionate exchange. Victoria cupped Susan's jaw, while Susan gripped the table edge. They kissed intensely, Victoria nipping Susan's lip with a slick pop. It was messy and hot, every move showing their connection--and my helpless captivation.

I was past screwed--more like drowning in quicksand with no damn rope. Between Victoria's sheer top--those nipples now standing at attention like they were begging for a salute--and her nonstop innuendo, I was done for. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, just me, pinned against the window with her heat radiating next to me.

I needed an out--fast. I waved at the stewardess, voice cracking like a teenager's. "Uh, can I get a blanket? Feeling kinda chilly." Total bullshit, but if I could fake sleep, maybe I'd dodge the next round of Victoria's head games.

She swooped in before the stewardess could even move, snatching the blanket with a grin that spelled trouble. "Oh, I've got you, Liam," she purred, unfolding it like she was setting a damn trap. She leaned over me, way too close, tucking it around my shoulders--then lower, her hands sliding down my chest, brushing my stomach, lingering way too damn long on my thighs. Her fingers grazed places they had no business being, slow and teasing, until--bam--my dick jumped up like it was reporting for duty. I clenched my jaw, trying to will it away, but she knew. That smirk said she fucking knew.

"Gotta keep you snug," she murmured, her voice dripping with fake innocence, her hand giving one last pat--right where it'd do the most damage--before pulling back. My face was a five-alarm fire, sweat beading on my forehead, and I yanked the blanket higher, mumbling, "Uh, thanks," like an idiot.

She settled back, all casual, picking up her glass again like she hadn't just lit me up and left me hanging. Susan smirked across the table, sipping her champagne, eyes dancing like she was in on the whole damn show.

I was toast--worn out from the day, from keeping my guard up against Victoria's nonstop bullshit. The stress, the boner, the whole damn circus--it hit me like a truck. My eyes got heavy, and even with my dick still half-cocked and my brain screaming what the hell, I couldn't fight it. I slumped under the blanket, out cold, too damn tired to care anymore.

======

The private villa was straight-up unreal--like something I couldn't even dream up on my best day. This sprawling-ass estate sat perched over a pristine private beach, the kind you'd drool over in some fancy travel mag. The air hit me with salt and hibiscus, thick and sweet, and the whole damn place oozed luxury so hard it nearly knocked me over. I dumped my bag in the foyer, still trying to wrap my head around how the hell I'd landed here. This wasn't my scene--never had been. I was a preschool assistant scraping by, not some jet-setter sipping cocktails on a dime.

I stepped out onto the balcony, the sun hammering down, and my mind went straight to Anna. She'd lose her damn mind over this spot--always chasing more. More cash, more clout, more everything. Me, I was good with our solid apartment and my steady gig, nothing fancy. But Anna? She'd take one look at this villa and swear we'd struck gold, her eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas. I could practically hear her voice, all hyped and pushy, saying this was the life we deserved. Standing there, sweat trickling down my neck, I couldn't shake the feeling I was just tagging along on her wild ride.

"Liam!" Victoria's voice blasted up from below, loud and bossy, like she was the queen of the whole damn coastline. "You're missing the sun --get your ass down here!"

I'd woken up on the plane just after we touched down, my head nestled right in her cleavage. Face burning, I'd stammered some half-assed apology, but she just grinned, cool as hell. "You flopped onto me, Liam," she'd said, "and I didn't have the heart to wake you. You seemed pretty cozy down there."

I found Victoria sprawled on a mattress by the shore, whiskey glass in hand, looking like a goddamn queen holding court. She had on this sexy white cami dress--some hollowed-out, split-side beach number that hugged her Amazonian frame just right, sleeveless and slit high, showing off those killer legs and round tits in a way that screamed power and fuck me all at once.

With her blazer off, I could see ink popping out--a badass black dragon curling around her right breast, wings spread and claws digging in, fierce as hell, like it was guarding her empire. Down her long leg, a trail of red and pink roses bloomed--bold and lush, winding from thigh to calf, petals popping against her skin like she'd grown 'em herself just to flex. She sipped her whiskey, legs crossed, that dress shifting with every move, and I stood there, half-stupid, feeling like a chump caught staring at a lioness on the prowl.

Futanari or not, she was smoking hot.

She patted the beach chair next to her, smirking like she expected me to jump. "C'mere, Liam."

No way in hell--I wasn't ready to be that close to her whiskey-and-dragon vibe. I grabbed a beach towel instead, muttering, "Uh, I'll just chill here," and plopped down a safe distance away on the sand.

The beach was a slice of paradise--ours alone, tied to the villa, stretching out empty and pristine. White sand sparkled under the sun, soft as hell, with turquoise waves lapping at the shore, all framed by a couple of swaying palms. Not a soul in sight, just us and the ocean, like the world had checked out and left this spot for Victoria to own.

Then a flash of blonde hair broke the water, and I damn near swallowed my tongue. Susan rose up like some freaking Venus painting--buck-ass naked, water streaming off her like a goddamn vision. Her futanari frame was unreal--tall and sleek, ex-Miss America curves glistening wet, droplets cascading down her toned shoulders, over her full tits, and trickling past her flat stomach. An impressive cock dangled between her legs, swaying heavy and proud as she strutted out, seductive as hell, each step kicking up little splashes. The water clung to her, sliding off in slow, shiny rivulets, catching the sun like liquid diamonds--she was a walking wet dream, and I couldn't peel my eyes off her.

She beamed when she spotted me, all sunshine and teeth, and then--holy shit--she stretched that nakedness right out on the towel next to mine. She sighed, happy as a damn lizard soaking up the rays, sprawling out with zero fucks given. Her wet skin gleamed, cock resting casual against her thigh, and I sat there, half-stupid, heart hammering, caught between her happy-go-lucky sprawl and Victoria's smirk burning a hole in my back.

"How was the swim?" I asked, propping myself up on an elbow. I kept my tone light, casual, but my eyes wandered, catching on the way the water gleamed along her collarbone, shimmering in the sunlight like tiny jewels.

"Nice," Susan said, brushing sand off her legs with quick, distracted swipes. "But a little cold. Took my breath away at first." She hugged herself, shivering for emphasis.

"Tsk. Cold water can be such a shock, huh?" Victoria's voice hit me from behind, thick with that teasing edge she wielded like a damn weapon. Here we go again. "Funny, though... I'm not cold at all. I'm actually feeling really warm right now. Almost..."

I turned towards her.

She paused, smiling like a shark, stretching her back just enough to make her dress strain. "... Almost moist."

That was it--my brain snapped like a cheap rubber band. I shot to my feet, spinning to face her, my cheeks burning. "What do you want, Victoria?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean. All the innuendos, the mind fucking games, the--what do you want from me, Victoria?"

Her smoky eyes burned with something sharp. "Are you, like, five?

"What?"

"Maybe you're watching too much Teletubbies at preschool. Time to switch to some adult films or something."

"What the fuck?" I blinked at her, stunned.

She stood up, looming over me like the goddamn Amazon she was. "You know exactly what I want. You knew it before you stepped on my plane."

I took a step toward her, my chest tight. I was done letting this woman rattle me, even if I still had to crane my neck to meet her eyes. "I got on your plane for Anna. I didn't want my wife demoted or canned. I'd do anything for her."

"Who said anything about demoting or firing anyone?"

"You did!"

"Bullshit!" She crossed her arms, smirking like she'd already won.

"You're lying! She could probably knock me out cold without breaking a sweat, but I'm done being her punching bag. "You ragged on her for one dumb meeting she tanked, sicced Lisa on her, threatened her job. I'd bet that was your game all along--just piling on pressure. I know my wife. She probably crushed that meeting."

"What meeting?"

"The Regional Directors meeting on Tuesday."

"We don't do meetings on Tuesdays--too many people working from home. Look, Liam, I've got no idea where you're pulling these wild theories from, but firing Anna? That's nuts. She's one of my best managers--sharp as a tack, killer instincts, thinks outside the box, a total hustler. She's on the fast track to the top."

"Did you or didn't you tell her to send me on this trip? Some tit-for-tat deal for a promotion?" My voice cracked, anger bubbling up.

Victoria's smile turned sharp, predatory. "Your wife asked for the Regional Manager position. I told her it's too soon, maybe in five years. She said she'd go the extra mile like no one else could. I said, maybe in five years. She said she'll do anything, she offered herself up. I'm not really into women."

"So you asked for me instead!" I jabbed a finger at her, my blood boiling.

"You can't blame me for grabbing that opportunity," Victoria shrugged. "She said you guys had an open marriage, so I told her she'd get the Regional Manager position if she could set this up."

"What? No way she said that. You're full of it--we're not swingers."

"Wanna hear the recording? It's on my office server. I tape all my talks."

"When was this conversation?"

"Tuesday. She went all out. Said you were cool with it."

Tuesday. The day Anna came home bawling about a demotion, saying everything was falling apart. The day she begged me to take this trip. My head spun like I'd been sucker-punched, and I dropped back into the towel, the weight of it hitting me hard. If Victoria was telling the truth, Anna had played me like a cheap fiddle for that promotion. No way. I would've dismissed Victoria outright--called her a liar to her face--except this wasn't the first time Anna had pulled strings to get what she wanted bad. Not the second or third, either. She'd done it before: faking a fight to guilt me into a fancy dinner we couldn't afford, or that time she "forgot" to tell me about the car loan she took out in my name. Little moves, sure, but they stacked up. My mind was a mess, exploding with questions, and I just sat there, staring at nothing. It was so hard to imagine because this betrayal--if it was real--topped them all, a gut punch that made those other stunts look like child's play.

"Hey." Victoria's hand landed on my shoulder, firm but warm. She crouched down to my level. "What are you so scared of?"

"Of what you want from me."

"Why? What do you think's gonna happen?"

I shrugged, my shoulders tight.

"You think I'm gonna pounce on you like a tiger?"

"Victoria, I wish you'd pounce me like a tiger. I bet you could arm-wrestle any tiger and stare down a lion. I'm scared you'll pounce me like Victoria Steele."

"Funny shit," she said dryly. "Flattered and insulted at the same time. I can take a tiger, but I'm also a creep now, huh?"

"Shit! I mean... yeah, that came out shitty. Sorry."

She squeezed my shoulder lightly but there was steel under those fingers. "Liam, nothing's gonna happen you're not totally cool with. I know I'm a lot, but that's what's got your buttons all lit up. Take a deep breath--you might actually enjoy it."

"Why? Why even bother?" I raised y voice again. "To screw with Anna? Teach her a lesson? Teach me one? Is it a power trip to mess with a 23 year old preschool assistant? You into slumming it or something?"

"None of that." She stooped down to my level, her eyes flickering with a rare, genuine jolt of surprise. "I think you're hot as hell."

"Doubt my head even hits your shoulder."

"Most guys are shorter than me."

"I know I've got a decent face--"

"It's gorgeous, Liam, don't sell yourself short." Her hand squeezed my shoulder, firm and warm against my bare skin. "Those big blue slanted baby eyes, tight bod, silky blond hair--you're checking all my boxes."

"Most girls say I'm kinda girly."

"I dig that about you."

"Thanks! So, uh, wanna talk about my dyslexia, crap salary, and zero muscles now? Ego's overrated anyway."

"That self-pity? Not so hot, honestly." She leaned closer, her voice dropping low and teasing. "Ever dated a futanari before?"

"Nope!" I blurted, then winced, hoping she didn't take it wrong. "I mean, I met Anna when I graduated high school, and we've been together ever since. I've never dated anyone else."

"Cute. Might be your issue, though. Ask Susan--she said you looked tasty as hell when I showed her your pic."

Susan's big blue eyes popped wide, and she nodded fast. "Oh, for sure. I'm usually a bottom, but I'd tap that ass quicker than a dude dodges a birthday text. You check my boxes too--some I didn't even know I had."

"Come on."

"Oh, I will, and you will too."

Something about their tag-team verbal assault hit my buttons too. I'd been called a lot by girls--cute, pretty, whatever--but "hot as hell"? That was new. "Hey, I thought she was the queen of over-the-top innuendo." I jerked my thumb at Victoria.

"I don't do innuendo." Susan slapped my ass playfully, making me yelp like a girl caught off guard. "But give me the green light, and I'll show you everything you've been missing in your vanilla-ass life. Girls like me and Vic? We're ten times the fun."

"Which'll only happen if you're down for it." Victoria waved a hand at her blonde wife to pump the brakes. "Or it won't. Your call. Chill out, sweetness--you're on vacation at a private beach."

"I'll try."

"Anything else I can do to make this easier for you?"

"Maybe dial back the sex vibes a notch. You know, sometimes a chair's just a chair, and a flight safety card's just a card. Not every random thing's a chance to mess with my head."

"Oh, wanna bet?" Victoria's predatory grin flashed back in an instant.

"What do you mean?"

"Pick anything out here on the beach. The most unsexy thing you can think of."

"Like that beach umbrella?" I pointed at the closed umbrella propped up behind us.

She flicked it open with a slow, lazy grace, tilting it just enough to cast both of us in shade. Then she leaned in, her voice dropping low. "See, Liam? I can be nice. I'll keep you from burning up."

She shifted slightly, angling the parasol so the light danced over her body, highlighting every curve just enough to make my throat tighten. Then she tightened her grip on the handle, fingers flexing a bit. "I like having something in my hands. Makes things more... interesting."

I wasn't backing down this time, so I pointed to the sea edge where a bunch of tiny crabs were scuttling. "Okay, impress me with those guys."

She knelt down, staring at a crab with way too much focus. Then she dragged a fingertip through the sand, slow and deliberate.

"You know, crabs are fascinating. They don't move in a straight line. They go sideways. Back and forth. A little teasing... a little hesitation..."

She looked up at me, head tilted, her smile way too knowing.

"Reminds me of someone."

I stiffened, my shoulders locking up. She reached out, picking up a small stick and poking the sand near the crab.

"See how careful it is? Skittish little thing. Always avoiding direct confrontation. Always running the moment someone gets too close."

She leaned back, propping herself on one arm, watching me squirm. Then she dragged a finger along the crab's shell, slow and light.

"But sometimes... you just have to reach out and see what happens."

I clapped, turning to Susan, who nodded fast. "Oh, she's good. She's good."

"Okay, fine," I said, scanning the beach for a tougher challenge. My eyes landed on a pile of shells, but I wasn't letting it stay that innocent. "Check this out--pretend that's not shells. Some dog snuck onto this beach and left a steaming pile of dog poop right there." I nodded at it, smirking. "I raise you that."

"You know, Liam..." Victoria started.

I nodded back, waiting her out.

"... some people run when they see a mess."

I cracked up, the absurdity hitting me hard. She stepped forward deliberately, dragging her toe in a slow circle around the imaginary pile.

"Some people avoid it. Step around it. Pretend it's not there."

She shot me a look, watching me close, biting her lip. Then she dropped her voice to a husky whisper.

"But the bold ones? They don't flinch. They don't panic. They handle things."

I stopped breathing. She paused, letting the tension sink in deep. Then came the knockout punch.

"Tell me, Liam... are you the type to step around it? Or the type to clean up after yourself?"

I burst out laughing, the pressure that'd been crushing my chest all day melting away. I threw my hands up in mock surrender. "Dog poop, huh? You win, fair and square."

She was on me in a flash, pouncing like a tigress on all fours. "What do I get?"

"My everlasting respect."

"How about a kiss?"

"Sure," I said, leaning in for a quick peck. But she took it as an open door, kissing me deep and hard, pressing every damn button I had. My brain melted down, and my dick jumped like it'd been hit with a live wire.

"Oh, wow," I muttered, pulling back, my head spinning.

"Too much?" Victoria asked, her smirk still in place.

"I'm married, you know," I said, my voice shaky.

"So am I. And your wife's cool with it, so...? Is it...? Is it because of what I've got downstairs?"

"It sure doesn't help."

She decided to up the ante, tugging down her panties from under that white cami dress. Victoria Steele was taking no prisoners. Zero shame and zero regrets.

My eyes widened, breath catching in my throat with a sharp, involuntary gasp I couldn't hold back. Her cock was colossal, a monstrous thing that defied belief, standing tall with this cocky swagger. Eight inches, maybe more--thick as hell, veins bulging like twisted ropes along a deep, flushed bronze shaft that pulsed with raw energy. The head was swollen huge, a slick, angry red glistening with a bead of pre-cum that caught the light, shimmering like a dark promise. It wasn't just big--it was obscene, cartoonish, a primal beast mocking my own junk. My stomach dropped, cold dread slugging it out with a sudden, shameful heat I didn't want to admit.

"Like anything you see?" Victoria said, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Or does it repulse you?"

"It's low-key hot," I choked out, lying through my teeth--it was way more than low-key. My head was a war zone, arousal slamming against anger at how turned on I was. I shifted, trying to hide the bulge in my shorts. "I'm repulsed that it's low-key hot. If that even makes any sense."

"That's who I am, sweetness."

"Where does that leave us?"

"With a boner, Baby Girl." That feminine nickname should've pissed me off, but it hit another damn button instead, sending a jolt through me.

"Don't be shy, take a good look. Know why it's getting hard?" she asked, her tone teasing but her blue eyes dark and predatory, pinning me. "It's because of you."

Her words slapped me silly, making no sense yet landing hard. My heart pounded like it'd bust my ribs, and I stared at her, mind reeling. Because of me? Bullshit--I wanted to call it out, but my body wasn't listening, heat crawling up my chest, breath hitching fast. Her gaze raked me over, hungry and shameless, like I was already hers, and it freaked me out--or did it? Was that disgust twisting my gut, or some messed-up curiosity I couldn't shake? My fingers twitched, itching to move, and I hated myself for it.

"Wanna touch?"

"No," I said, but my head nodded yes, betraying me flat-out. Victoria laughed, a low, throaty sound.

Then my phone rang. The shrill noise cut through the silence like a lifeline, yanking me back from the edge. I blinked, head snapping toward it, the spell cracking.

"Aren't you gonna get that?" Victoria asked, all casual like she wasn't standing there bare-assed, her monster cock throbbing between us.

I hesitated, eyes bouncing between her and the phone buzzing on the sand--my ticket out of this mess. Finally, I snatched it up, hands shaking so bad I nearly fumbled it, and croaked, "Hello?"

"Hey, babe!" Anna's voice burst through, cheerful as hell, like she was riding a sugar high. "How you holding up? Enjoying Cancún?"

"Uh, what... what are you up to?" I stammered, my eyes flicking to Victoria's anaconda, her blue gaze pinning me. No way I was spilling this mess to my wife.

"Oh, just making a cherry jam sandwich--my fave," she chirped. "Here I am, slathering jam while you're probably sipping champagne on a sunny beach, living it up. Not jealous at all, though--happy for you!" Her tone twisted the knife, playing my guilt like she hadn't shoved me out the door for this trip.

"Ouch!" Anna yelped.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice rough.

"Nothing, just sprained my shoulder during yoga class this week. Wish my big strong husband was here to open this cherry jam jar instead of on some exotic beach--but I'm kidding! I'm rooting for you. Enjoy it."

My brain snagged hard. "You mean the yoga class you had to skip on Tuesday for that meeting you bombed?"

She stumbled, a tiny hitch, then smoothed it over like cherry jam on toast. "Oh, no, I went later that day--after work, you know, to unwind."

Rage flared in my chest, hot and sharp, a goddamn inferno. She--she went to yoga? Really? Really? That hit me like a sledgehammer to the skull. After Lisa supposedly tore her a new one, threatened to demote her to Junior Coordinator--slashing our cash, her swearing she'd quit and leave us drowning--she just... waltzed off to yoga? That Tuesday sob-fest--her mascara-streaked face, the mortgage guillotine, her "failing us" bullshit--was a lie. A fucking lie! She'd played me--strung me up like a chump with that Oscar-worthy crocodile tears act, all to dump me on this beach for her shiny new gig. Victoria was dead-on--Anna sold me out, stabbed me in the back, and I was the idiot eating it up. I said nothing, jaw clenching so tight I thought my teeth might crack.

"How's it going with my boss?" Anna chirped, oblivious as ever.

"Going?" I echoed, voice flat, hollow, eyes snapping back to Victoria. She stood there, still naked, that infuriating smirk locked on, her cock a grotesque monument to my unraveling.

"She and her wife, they're... Everything's okay, right?"

I stared at Victoria's throbbing beast. "Your boss has been nothing but a perfect lady and hostess. Hasn't asked for anything weird--or anything I wasn't willing to do."

"And even if she does ask for something, not too big, you'll play along, right?"

"Play along?" I repeated, ice creeping into my tone.

"Yeah, you know," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice, carefree and detached. "Being a team player. Playing along. You get it, right?"

My jaw clenched tighter, her words a punch to the gut, sharp and bruising. Playing along--like I was some pawn in her fucking game, like my rage, my humiliation, my whole world spinning out didn't mean shit. The betrayal burned, hot and bitter, but something darker roared up--resentment, defiance, a big fuck-you to her breezy dismissal. "You do know she's a futanari, right? You know what she packs?"

"Don't be a bigot, Liam!" she snapped, all perky judgment.

I blinked. "Bigot? What the...? What if she wants me to touch it or something?"

"So fucking what? It's not a big deal."

"Really! Not a big deal! You remember I'm a man, right? Your husband?"

She laughed, light and breezy. "It doesn't make you gay or anything. Imagine it's something else--I dunno, a stick. You think I like giving you head?"

My face burned, humiliation searing through me. "You don't?"

"Not particularly, but I love you, and I know you love it so much, so I pretend it's a lollipop. You love me, so you can do this tiny thing for me. For us."

That did it--her flippant "tiny thing" snapped the last thread, a final kick to the balls that tipped me over. Victoria's eyes gleamed, delighted, as I reached out, my hand trembling like a leaf in a storm. I closed it around her cock--scorching hot, a furnace searing my palm, velvet-smooth skin stretched tight over a steel core. The blood throbbed beneath, veins pulsing like a heartbeat, thick and relentless, each ridge screaming its obscene size. My fingers strained to grip its girth, the sheer mass overwhelming, a jolt ripping straight to my core. Victoria groaned low and guttural, her chest heaving, biting her lip hard to stifle it, her triumph flashing in those half-lidded blue eyes. Her hand clamped over mine, fingers tightening, guiding me up the length, slow and deliberate, and I caught a flicker of shock in her gaze--me taking charge threw her off, and damn, I liked it.

My wedding ring glinted on my hand, a cold, mocking shimmer against the heat of her flesh, and my stomach lurched--guilt, rage, and something dark and hungry twisting together.

Anna kept talking, clueless as hell. "So, yesterday I met Lisa for lunch. New position's not announced yet, but the rumors are flying."

I wedged the phone between my shoulder and ear, freeing both hands. "Yeah?" I muttered, my voice tight, eyes locked on Victoria's. My hand slid down, then up, feeling every vein, every throb, the slick heat branding my skin. "What'd she say?"

"Oh, I 'accidentally' dropped the Regional Manager gig," Anna said, her tone dripping with smug glee. "Just slid it in there--'Oh, Lisa, when I'm Regional Manager...'--and her face went white as a sheet."

Victoria's hips arched subtly, a sharp hiss slipping from her lips as my thumb grazed over the swollen, glistening head, spreading a bead of precum in a slow, tantalizing circle. Her legs quivered with anticipation, a sense of triumph unfurling within her as she tossed her head back, allowing beads of sweat to form on her brow. She was reveling in this power trip, savoring the sensation of me testing my boundaries but also hers.

"She didn't like that, huh?" I said, my words a double-edged jab--Anna's lunch, Victoria's cock. I tickled her balls gently with my fingertips, feeling their heavy, warm weight shift, and Victoria moaned hard, a raw, unfiltered sound.

Anna piped up, "What was that?"

I smirked, "Just a seagull," and Victoria's victorious smirk curled wider, her stance widening like a conqueror claiming ground.

"Nope," Anna laughed. "Lisa didn't like it one bit. If I'm the Regional Manager, she'd be reporting to me. She just stared, then excused herself--probably to puke or shoot herself, haha. I loved it."

Susan, stark naked on a towel nearby, stopped sunbathing, her eyes snapping to us. Her cock was hard, jutting up, and she started jerking it slowly, her gaze intense, lips parting as she licked them, a silent cheerleader to this fucked-up show. I gripped Victoria tighter, both fists now--one at the base, steadying it like an anchor, the other sliding up, a wave of motion that made her gasp, her abs flexing under the strain. She reached out, lovingly caressing my cheek, then my chin, tracing my nose and lips with a tender touch that clashed with her dominance, sending my head spinning.

"Sounds like you had fun," I said, voice low, thick with innuendo Anna missed. "Rubbing it in her face like that." My thumb rubbed back and forth over Victoria's frenulum--that sensitive string of flesh under the head--soft and gentle, and she shuddered, her eyes darkening, ravenous, mouthing, "You're amazing," silent but clear.

"Oh, totally," Anna said, her voice bubbly. "She's gonna be my underling soon--more money, more prestige. Can't wait." I switched to the Escalator--right hand stroking from top to bottom, pulling away, left hand following, a relentless stream of sensation. Victoria's pre-cum slicked it up, no lube needed, and her knees buckled slightly, a triumphant laugh bubbling out as she gripped my shoulder, nails digging in like she'd won the damn lottery.

"More, huh?" I growled, eyes burning into Victoria's. "That's a lot to handle." My turmoil was shifting--rage at Anna's yoga lie, her "team player" crap, melting into lust, a challenge I couldn't back down from. I got bolder, pulling a trick I loved on myself--grabbing the shaft with one hand, pinky near her balls, index near the top, I stroked up and down slow, my thumb rubbing circles over the head, teasing that purple glans. Victoria's breath hitched, her head tilting back, a queen reveling in her court, her groan a loud, unashamed victory cry that made Anna ask again, "Another seagull?"--and I just grunted, "Yeah."

"Liam, put me on speaker," Victoria whispered, husky and commanding. I shifted the phone from my shoulder to the table, switching it on, Anna's voice echoing. "Hey, Anna! It's Victoria. How you doing?"

"Oh, hi, Victoria!" Anna chirped. "I'm great--how's everything there?" My hand did a long, deliberate upstroke, and Victoria said, "Everything's wonderful. Liam's been such a great guest--I see a long career ahead for you, Anna, with moves like this." Her tone was clean, but her eyes screamed triumph as I kept going, slow and steady.

"Aw, thanks!" Anna said. "He's the best." I grabbed Victoria's cock with both hands now--one fisting the base, the other sliding up--and she purred, "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Anna. You've got to grab it with both hands." Her hips thrust forward, a subtle flex of power, and Susan's jerking sped up, her breath ragged, eyes glued to us.

"Definitely," Anna agreed, oblivious. "Weather nice down there?" I stroked faster, then slow, mixing it up, my thumb flicking Victoria's frenulum side to side, soft as hell, and she gasped, her chest puffing out like a goddamn champion, sweat dripping down her neck. "Oh, it's perfect," Victoria said. "Liam's in safe hands--I'm taking good care of him. There's a bonus waiting for you, Anna, for this bold move."

"Sweet!" Anna said.

Victoria cut in, "Need to go, Anna," her voice sharp, dismissing her just as her moans peaked. I mumbled, "Love you too," barely audible, and the call dropped. My focus zeroed back to Victoria--her cock a pulsing, living beast, precum slicking my hands. I went all in, one hand stroking up and down, thumb on the head, the other tickling her balls, then back to that frenulum, rubbing it 'til her moans hit a crescendo. She came hard, cum shooting onto my chest, hot and thick, her big butterfly eyelashes fluttering as her body shook, a triumphant roar ripping from her throat as she stood tall, legs spread, a conqueror basking in her win.

Susan groaned too, her own release hitting, a silent nod to the chaos. Victoria leaned in, kissing me hungrily, her lips fierce and claiming, then softened, brushing mine gently several times, a tender aftermath that floored me. "I'm taking you on every vacation from now on," she murmured, her voice low, possessive.

My rage had burned into lust, a twisted victory, but as she stepped back, I fell silent, my mind a storm of turmoil--what I'd just done, Anna's betrayal crashing over me. I stripped off everything--shirt, shorts, all of it--and waded into the ocean, the saltwater washing me clean, a cold reset. I came back from the ocean, saltwater dripping off me, and collapsed naked onto the towel, utterly spent--my body heavy, my mind a churning mess of rage and release. Victoria stood there a moment, watching me with those piercing blue eyes, then shed her white cami dress like it was nothing, letting it puddle on the sand. She stretched out beside me like a naked tigress, all lean muscle and golden skin, her curves catching the late afternoon sun in a way that made her glow--six feet of pure, untamed confidence. Her victory was written all over her: the way her chest rose with slow, deep breaths, the faint smirk tugging at her lips, the glint of satisfaction in her gaze as she propped herself on one elbow, looking down at me like I was the prize she'd just claimed.

Her hand slid onto my chest, warm and possessive, fingers splaying wide across my skin as if marking her territory, and I felt the heat of her touch sink into me, steady and unyielding.

She shifted closer, her bare thigh brushing mine, the contact electric against my still-damp skin, and I caught the scent of her--sunscreen. Her hand wandered down my side, slow and deliberate, grazing my hip before slipping to my ass, cupping it with a gentle squeeze that made my breath hitch. She chuckled softly, a sound that vibrated through her chest, and leaned in, pressing her lips to mine--not hungry this time, but tender, a lingering kiss that tasted faintly of salt and her own lingering arousal. "I'm so damn excited about you," she murmured against my mouth, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes.

I stared at the sky, overwhelmed by Anna's betrayal. Victoria's touch was a grounding force as her fingers traced my chest and back. She kissed me softly, her breath warm against my cheek, a sweetness contrasting with what had just transpired.

She was a multimillionaire who'd jet-setted through life, tasted every luxury, every conquest, and yet here she was, eyes alight with a giddy thrill, like I was some uncharted territory she'd stumbled into and couldn't wait to explore. Her hand stayed on me, caressing me slow--chest, side, ass again--each touch possessive yet gentle with a sweetness that knocked me sideways, leaving me wrecked, raw, and oddly wanted as I lay there, lost in the sky and her quiet claim.

======

I'd rinsed the sea off in the villa's marble shower, jets buzzing like a hive I couldn't quiet, and pulled on faded jeans and a white button-up--sleeves rolled, creases sharp as my nerves. Wiped out, I flopped on the guest bed, the AC's drone pulling me under.

Dreams crashed in--tall women, all curves and defiance, strutted past, red rose tattoos curling up their long legs, while my dad's voice roared, "Women who flaunt their bodies--brides of the devil, gonna burn you down!" His whiskey-reek breath stung, fists swinging; when he was alive, everything was the devil to him--internet, bikes, girls in tight skirts, girls dressed like Queen Victoria, rock music--everything except the bottle, his real god.

I jolted awake, heart hammering, sheets damp with sweat.

The villa was a ghost town as I roamed--empty rooms, no hum of life, just the ocean's faint growl. My head was a mess--the beach replayed, Victoria's hands, her body pressed against me. What the hell was next? Her pulling me into this villa, this world--it churned my gut, rage and want clawing at each other.

I hit the dining room--teak floors slick under a chandelier spiking light across a table set for no one. No cook yelling Spanish, no waitress with her gold-veined plates--just me.

"Fuck it," I muttered, spotting the sound system by the balcony doors. Not my house, not my rules, but I felt like a leaf dragged on the current and I needed an anchor. Nirvana always calmed me--that grunge wall, my escape, my rebellion against Dad's fists and sermons. Back when I was a kid, I'd sneak dance lessons--jazz, hip-hop, whatever I could scrape cash for--my body got lean, quick, despite him banning it as devil's work. Couldn't hack professional school--too broke, not sharp enough, and Dad wouldn't pay a dime. But I still dance sometimes, when the world's too loud.

I cranked "Smells Like Teen Spirit," Kurt's howl shredding the silence, letting my world bleed into this alien place where people owned private beaches and jet planes.

I stepped onto the balcony--night air thick, sea dark. The first notes hit--electric guitar, bass, drums. "Load up on guns, bring your friends, it's fun to lose and to pretend." I danced, not just jagged and free--my body kicked in, muscle memory flaring. Hips rolled smooth, shoulders snapped to the beat, feet sliding like I'd never quit. I spun, arms cutting the air, shaking off Dad's ghost, Anna's betrayal, the beach, Victoria--the song steadying me like it always had.

A shadow moved--I whipped around, catching Victoria Steele in the doorway, her emerald gown rippling like a storm's wake, slit baring a thigh that cut the light like a scythe. Predatory as hell, but her eyes flickered--curious, almost soft, locked on me like she'd seen something new. My face flamed; I lunged for the system, killing it mid-verse, Kurt Cobain's growl choking off.

"Why'd you stop?" she said, stepping closer, voice a low hum. "Best part--'And I forget just why I taste, oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile...'" She sang it rough, "'I found it hard, it's hard to find, oh well, whatever, never mind.'"

I stared, floored. "Thought you'd be into opera--posh Beethoven concerts or some fancy-ass shit."

She laughed, real, unguarded. "That was my kid track." Her eyes softened, a splinter in her armor. "You?"

I shifted, still red. "Drowned out my dad's rants, him damning rock and everything else. 'Teen Spirit' was my fuck-you."

She nodded, for a moment not a dominating businesswoman, almost human. We stood there, the balcony quiet, the song's echo hanging between us like a thread pulled tight.

The dining room jolted alive--Susan swept in, crimson gown spilling like a slow ember, as the waitress hustled out plates, gold veins flashing, then vanished with the cook, lime and fish fading. The table loaded--mahi-mahi with mango shards, ceviche in glass wells, champagne sweating in a silver nest.

We ate in quiet, Victoria tearing into her food like it owed her money, Susan picking at the prime cuts, me--I barely poked at mine, appetite gone south.

When she was done, Susan leaned back in her chair. "So, Liam," she began, her voice smooth and velvety. "How are you finding our little getaway so far?"

I forced a smile, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's... certainly been an experience."

She chuckled, the sound low and sultry. "That's one way to put it."

Susan's leg brushed against mine under the table, and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. She didn't pull away, instead, she pressed her leg more firmly against mine, her foot sliding up my calf.

I looked at her, my heart pounding in my chest. "Susan..." I started, but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.

"Relax, Liam," Susan said, all breezy like we were chatting about rain. "We're just talking. Victoria doesn't mind."

Victoria shrugged and nibbled a shrimp.

"Relax, Liam. You didn't even touch your wine."

"I hardly ever drink," I said.

"Back on the plane you did," Susan shot back.

"Needed it bad to take the edge off, but I hardly ever touch the stuff."

"Guessing you're between steps four and nine?"

"I'm not a recovering drunk, Susan. It's a choice."

"I get it," she said, though her smirk said she didn't. "What'd you think of Victoria's cock?"

I damn near swallowed my tongue. "Sorry?"

"My wife's cock--what'd you think?"

"I dunno... what?"

"Drop the shy-boy routine," Susan said. "Wrong crowd for that."

"It's not a routine. Where I'm from, folks don't talk dicks over dinner." I glanced at Victoria--she just shrugged, popping another shrimp.

"So, what'd you think of it?"

"Uh... big?"

Susan leaned back, her leg brushing mine, voice going dreamy. "Victoria's a beast in bed. Goes for hours--plenty for me, but I can't keep up with her."

I stared, mouth dry, head spinning--her treating Victoria like some sex deity, all awe and no filter.

"It's unreal," she went on, eyes half-shut like she was reliving it. "Sliding that mushroom tip of hers in my mouth, nibbling it... the way it hits when she lets go down my throat--pure heaven." She licked her lips, slow, locking eyes with me.

My junk perked up, traitor that it was, heat creeping in despite my brain yelling what the fuck. She leaned closer, voice dropping.

"And when she slides it in my vag..." She paused, savoring it. "It's like touching the divine. And up my ass? That's like meeting god almighty himself."

Susan's eyes flicked open, pinning mine. "Do you want a taste of what she can give, Liam?" she asked, voice soft, almost warm.

I stared back, my head spinning like a busted tire. "I... dunno," I mumbled, barely loud enough to hear.

She grinned, easy, sliding her hand across the table to rest on mine. "It's cool to be all tangled up about it. But keep the door cracked--you're in for something wild, I swear." Then she let go of my arm abruptly, her head lifting. "I've got to dance--right now," she said, her voice slicing through the stillness.

I looked up, startled. "What?"

"Need to shake this mood." She pushed back her chair and climbed onto the table--bare legs threading between dishes, plates clinking as her crimson gown rode up her thighs. She leapt down, landing firmly, then crossed to the sound system and switched on Calvin Harris's "Feel So Close"--a steady thump of bass and sleek rhythm. She lowered the chandelier's light to a soft glow, the room dimming, and turned, seizing my hand.

"Come on, Liam--move with me," she said, pulling me to my feet.

I rose unsteadily, my jeans feeling stiff, but my dancer's instincts stirred--years of jazz and hip-hop lessons, my body still agile despite quitting when I married Anna young for a steady wage. Susan drew me into the open space, her movements wild at first--arms swinging, hips swaying freely to the beat. Her eyes widened with delight, catching how I shifted my weight, my steps fluid and precise. She clapped and laughed, a bright, joyful sound.

"Hot damn, you've got moves!" she exclaimed. "Where'd you keep that hidden?"

I didn't reply, matching her rhythm.

She closed the distance, her hands finding my shoulders, then sliding down--her dance slowing, growing intimate. The music pulsed, and she pressed herself against me, her gown brushing my jeans as she began to grind. I felt her cock stir beneath the fabric, a firm nudge, and my breath caught, a rush of heat rising despite my spinning thoughts. She moved behind me, her chest soft against my back, lips brushing my neck, then nuzzling my ear with warm intent.

"Feel that?" she murmured, her hips pressing closer with the song's swell.

I nodded. My body responded, hips syncing with hers, the dance turning warm and heavy. Susan's hands roamed lower, grazing my waistband, her breath a shiver along my skin. The room hummed--lights muted, "Feel So Close" throbbing, her body pressed tight against mine from behind. My pulse raced, caught in her grind, when Victoria tapped Susan's shoulder. Her emerald gown flowed like a calm current, but her eyes narrowed slightly--a flicker of something sharp beneath her calm.

"Mind if I cut in?" she asked, voice smooth but edged.

Susan paused, her lips brushing my ear. "Spoilsport," she muttered, then pulled back with a grin. "Fine-- I'll put on something slower, though. Let's make it sensual."

Susan crossed to the sound system, swapping the club beat for something softer--Portishead's "Glory Box," all sultry bass and Beth Gibbons' haunting croon. The tempo dropped, the room's glow softening further. Susan clapped once, stepping aside, her crimson gown swaying as she leaned against the table to watch.

I stood there, jeans tight, my dancer's frame still buzzing from Susan's rhythm. Victoria closed the gap, her hands settling on my hips--firm, possessive. "Let's dance," she said, her tone low, pulling me into a slow sway.

She wasn't as smooth as Susan--her steps a touch stiff, lacking that wild ease--but she led like she owned it, guiding me with a man's steady grip. Her hands slid to my ass, strong fingers digging in, and I felt her cock stir against my stomach, a growing heat through her gown. I could barely breathe, my body rigid as she moved us to the music. Her strength steered me effortlessly, leaving me small, exposed. My mind yelled to bolt, to shake off this dizzying pull, but my legs wouldn't budge--my cock throbbed, trapped in my jeans, pressed against her.

It wasn't like dancing with Susan--her softness, her teasing charm I could halfway wrap my head around. Victoria was different--raw, unyielding, her Amazonian build filling the space. She controlled the floor, and I felt it: the first real taste of being led by a someone like her--disorienting, electric, and scary as hell.

"You're doing well," she murmured, breath warm against my ear, her dark hair grazing my cheek. "Just let go, Liam. Let me handle it."

I swallowed, my body trembling as her hands slid down my back--slow, deliberate, fingers pressing just enough to pin me in place. Her nails trailed lightly over the nape of my neck, a faint whisper of sensation that sent a shiver rippling through me. She drew me closer, her frame flush against mine, her cock's hardness nudging me through the fabric, growing fuller with each sway.

"Victoria..." I started, voice wobbly, but she cut me off with a quiet laugh.

"Shh," she said, lips brushing my earlobe. "Don't think--just feel it."

Her words jolted me, my body leaning into her despite the scream in my head to pull back. The bassline of "Glory Box" vibrated between us, syncing our movements--slow, controlled, inevitable. Her fingers squeezed my waist, subtle but possessive, making every inch of her presence sink in. My cock pulsed, trapped in my jeans, aching with need as her breath flooded my senses, her pricey perfume a thick fog I couldn't cut through. Susan watched from the table, her grin lazy, sipping Victoria's abandoned wine.

The song curled around us--"Give me a reason to love you..."--and she ran a single finger down my spine, slow, testing my reaction. I stiffened, a low shudder escaping, and her grip tightened, one hand sliding to cup my ass--slow squeeze, firm, confident. My hands found her waist, hesitant, then firmer, my dancer's rhythm syncing with hers despite the chaos in my chest.

She tilted my chin up with a finger, eyes locking mine--dark, searching, a jealous glint fading into something softer. "You move better than I figured," she said, a faint smirk tugging her lips.

"Old trick," I mumbled, throat dry.

She hummed along to the song, the vibrations sinking into my skin as she dragged her lips over the shell of my ear. Her smirk widened, and she pressed her cock harder against me, deliberate--a slow grind now, her hands kneading my ass. She pulled back just enough to make me chase the closeness, my hips tilting forward on instinct. Her knuckles dragged over my stomach, teasing, knowing, and my breath hitched again, heat pooling low. She pulled me closer. Then closer. Then closer--until our edges blurred, her cock straining her gown, a solid heat against me.

Susan let out a low whistle, but Victoria didn't flinch--her lips grazed my neck, then my jaw, testing the line. She hummed louder, the sound threading through the bass, and my mind reeled--Anna's Promotion's locked, thanks a bitter jab, the "Teen Spirit" thread with Victoria twisting tighter. My body gave in, hips rocking with hers, the dance dissolving into a tangle of want and surrender. Her fingers pressed deeper into my waist, anchoring me, and just as the last notes of "Glory Box" faded, she smirked, her breath a hot whisper against my ear.

"Now wasn't that worth giving in?" she said, voice low and smug.

I trembled, caught--my cock throbbing, her grip unyielding, the room still humming with the song's ghost. Susan clapped once, slow, her grin wicked, but Victoria's eyes stayed on me, dark and sure, her futanari dominance a weight I couldn't shake.

Susan's voice cut through the fog. "I believe it's time for us to get cozy," she remarked.

Victoria pulled back slightly, her blue eyes dark with desire as she gazed down at me. "What do you say, Liam?" she asked, her voice low and teasing. "We take this to the next level?"

I froze, my mind a storm of clashing thoughts--want, fear, Anna's cold betrayal stabbing through. Before I could find words, Victoria released me, stepping back with a smirk that promised more.

Susan took my hand, her fingers threading through mine, warm and sure, as she tugged me toward the bedroom. "Come on," she said softly, her voice a gentle nudge. "Trust me, Liam. You're gonna love this."

I followed, my heart thudding hard, my head spinning too fast to catch up. "Fuck it," I muttered under my breath, barely a whisper, as we crossed the threshold.

The bedroom stretched out--pure luxury, silk sheets spilling over a king bed, warm sconces casting a soft amber glow on the walls, the sea's murmur seeping through cracked windows. Susan let go, her crimson gown swaying as she moved to a wardrobe, pulling out a sheer black slip. Victoria lingered near the door, her emerald gown catching the flicker like a quiet flame, watching me with that same dark intent.

Susan peeled off her dress, the fabric crumpling around her ankles, and slipped into the sheer black number--her curves cutting through the thin weave, her cock a faint outline beneath. "Better," she said, flashing me a grin over her shoulder. She stepped close again, her hands grazing my chest, undoing my shirt with slow, careful tugs.

My breath caught, but I didn't stop her--my dancer's frame, honed by years of jazz and hip-hop, keeping me steady even as my nerves unraveled. Victoria shed her gown next, letting it drift down in a soft wave, revealing her futanari form--tall, chiseled, her cock half-hard, a bold arc against her thigh. She crossed to me, her stride firm, and her hands settled on my hips, nudging me toward the bed.

"Relax, grunge boy," she murmured, her breath warm against my jaw. "We've got you."

Susan laughed, soft and wicked. "Oh, he's way past the shallow end now."

I sank onto the silk, the cool sheets a shock against my bare skin as Susan tugged my jeans down, her fingers brushing my thighs. She didn't pause--leaning in, she started with a trail of kisses, her lips pressing soft and deliberate against Victoria's mouth first. Then she worked down--her kisses grazed Victoria's neck, lingered on her chest, slid across her stomach, a slow burn tracing lower until she reached her groin. My eyes locked on, my breath shallow, watching her ease into it like she was unwinding a secret.

Susan's lips parted, stretching wide as she took Victoria's massive tool into her mouth--her jaw flexing, the strain visible as she adjusted to the girth. She winked at me mid-move, a quick flash of green mischief, and I felt my face heat up, my cock twitching hard in my briefs. She sank deeper, her throat opening with a wet, quiet slurp, the sound curling into the air--raw, unfiltered. Victoria's head tipped back, a low groan rumbling out, her hands flexing at her sides.

When Susan slid back, Victoria's cock slipped free--glistening, slick with spit, a faint pop as it left her lips. Red lipstick rings marked the shaft, smudged circles trailing from base to tip, proof of her work. She grinned, then dipped again, her teeth grazing the edge--just a light bite--and Victoria jolted, a sharp hiss escaping her. "Easy," she muttered, voice rough, but Susan only smirked, undeterred.

I couldn't peel my eyes off it--Susan's tongue flicked out, slaloming along the length, weaving side to side with a dancer's precision of her own. It was messy, alive--her spit shining in the light, her lips swollen, that wet slide pulling me in like a current. My erection strained harder, a dull ache now, my briefs tight as hell. She was unraveling Victoria, piece by piece, and I was caught in the ripple, heat pooling low, Anna's betrayal a distant sting I couldn't feel anymore.

When Susan finally pulled back fully, lips slick and full, she turned to me with a glint in her green eyes. "Wanna taste?" she asked, voice soft but edged with a dare, her futanari confidence peeking out.

My gut twisted. "I... I don't..." I stammered, voice half a whisper, my hands clenching the silk beneath me.

Susan tilted her head, her expression softening. "Do you trust me?" she asked, her tone almost soothing.

I laughed nervously, the sound hollow. "Not really, no."

She smiled, her hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek. "You need to let yourself go, Liam. I'll help you. Just... close your eyes."

I hesitated, my heart racing. But something in her voice, in the way she looked at me, made me comply. I closed my eyes, my breath shallow as I felt her guiding my head forward.

The first thing I noticed was the heat. Victoria's cock was warm against my cheek, the skin smooth and slightly damp. My breath stuttered, my lips brushing against the tip as Susan guided me closer. The smell was overwhelming--musky, potent, and entirely foreign, yet tinged with the faint floral notes of Victoria's perfume. My lips parted instinctively, the head of her cock pressing against them.

"That's it," Susan murmured, her voice soft and encouraging. "Just... taste."

I hesitated, my tongue darting out to tentatively lick the tip. The taste was salty, earthy, and entirely unexpected. Victoria's groan above me sent a shiver down my spine, the sound both commanding and... arousing. My stomach twisted, but I couldn't pull away.

"Good girl," Victoria rumbled, her voice deep and authoritative, a velvet command that echoed her power-hungry nature.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, a mix of shame and something darker, more primal, stirring within me. My lips parted wider, taking her into my mouth. The sensation was overwhelming--her cock was thick, filling my mouth in a way that felt both strange and... right. My tongue moved tentatively, exploring the unfamiliar territory.

"Open your eyes," Victoria commanded, her voice firm, her blue eyes likely blazing with dominance even unseen.

I hesitated, but the authority in her tone made me comply. I looked up, my eyes meeting hers. She towered over me, her Amazonian figure framed by her dark hair, her expression a mix of satisfaction and hunger. My stomach flipped, but I didn't stop. Her cock pulsed in my mouth, the taste and texture etching themselves into my memory.

"Good girl," she murmured again, her hand gently caressing my hair, her touch a stark contrast to her dominating presence.

The praise jolted me--embarrassment tangling with a heat I couldn't name. My mouth moved faster, spurred by her nod, my body taking over where my head spun. Then it hit--a wet heat spilled into my briefs as I came, my hips jerking once, sharp and uncontrolled. My chest heaved, air rasping out as my mind wiped blank, a white buzz swallowing everything. I pulled back from Victoria's cock, the taste lingering, and slumped onto the bed, my frame trembling, spent.

Susan's hand slid up my arm, slow and warm, her touch steady as she murmured something I couldn't catch. The silk stuck to my skin, cool against the damp mess in my briefs, and I lay there, staring at the ceiling, breath slowing. The fog in my head started thinning, then the room, the taste, her groan. It clicked--I'd gotten off from this, from sucking Victoria's cock. Shame rolled in, thick and heavy, pressing down until I wanted to sink into the floor and vanish.

Susan's hand rested on my shoulder, firm but kind, her steady heat anchoring me. "Hey, it's okay," she said, her voice a quiet balm, her thumbs kneading into my tense muscles--slow, deep circles that loosened the knots. "You're so good, Liam--nothing to feel bad about."

Her words barely dented the chaos in my head, but I let her guide me, pulling me into her lap. My head settled against her thigh, her fingers threading through my hair--twisting strands gently, tugging just enough to tease as she grinned down at me. The soothing sweep of her touch carried a subtle comfort beneath her slip, and I closed my eyes, wrestling the storm of feelings churning inside.

The bed shifted, Victoria's presence looming behind me. I barely felt as my wet briefs were pulled off. Her hands gripped my hips, strong and unyielding, her Amazonian power radiating as Susan's hands slid to my shoulders, spreading my thighs wider--her grip steady, cooing, "Open up for us, Liam." My breath hitched, body tensing as a cool, slick finger pressed against my hole--Susan's hand brushing my chest, guiding Victoria's finger to my rim with a whispered, "I've got you," her wicked grin flashing.

"Relax," Victoria murmured, her voice a low growl, velvet over steel, dripping with her power-hungry edge.

I tried--damn, I tried--but my muscles pulled tight, like wires ready to fray. She hovered over me, her long, manicured nail tracing a shiver down my spine. Susan drizzled lube over Victoria's finger--winking, "Let's make it smooth, huh?"--her touch grazing my rim as it circled, slow and deliberate, massaging the taut ring. Then Victoria lunged, teeth sinking into my left cheek--a sharp, stinging bite that yanked a yelp from me, my hips jerking up. "Fuck!" I gasped, twisting to glare at her.

"Sorry," she purred, unapologetic, her lips curling into a smirk as she licked spit off them. "Couldn't resist that peach--you're hauling it around without a license to be this cute." Her finger returned, circling again, Susan's hand slipping lower--stroking my softening cock with a feather-light touch, teasing, "Can't let this guy sleep on us," as it twitched back to life.

She struck again, teeth snapping onto my right cheek--hot, symmetric pain blooming as I hissed, hands clawing the leather. "Jesus, Victoria--"

"Symmetry's important," she cooed, pulling back. "No more bites, promise." She blew a cool puff over my hole--Susan brushing sweat from my brow with her thumb, murmuring, "Look at you, all worked up"--and a shiver raced up my spine, my stomach flipping between shock and want.

Victoria's finger slid in, slick and sudden, plunging deep to the second knuckle. I choked on a breath, the stretch raw and burning, my toes curling as Susan leaned close--whispering, "You're taking her like a champ," her breath tickling my ear. My body clenched, unsure, a wet squelch sounding as she twisted deeper--her nail scraping, then striking my prostate. A jolt ripped through me, dragging a low groan out, my hips bucking before I could stop them.

She leaned in, lips grazing my ear, voice thick with triumph. "I've been dreaming of this, Liam--getting you right here, all mine." Her finger pressed harder, stroking that spot like she'd memorized it, and I drowned in her control, a twisted heat knotting my gut.

"That's it," Victoria said, her approval thick. "Just... let go."

I closed my eyes, breath shallow as she worked me open--Susan's breast brushing my lips, her nipple firm as I sucked gently, her murmur, "Focus on me," softening the edge. Her hands stayed on my shoulders, grounding me as Victoria's finger stretched deeper, new and overwhelming.

"You're doing so well," Susan said, her voice soft and warm. "Just... trust us."

I wanted to--hell, I did--but the storm inside wouldn't quit. Victoria's finger moved with intent, firm yet precise, my body yielding despite my head's fight, pleasure and discomfort tangling tighter.

"You're ready," Victoria said, her voice sure.

I tensed, breath catching as something thicker nudged me--Susan's hands still kneading my shoulders, easing the dread knotting my stomach. Victoria's grip tightened on my hips, pushing forward slow. The stretch hit hard, fierce and searing, but a flicker of heat sparked, my body reacting on its own.

"Relax," she murmured, low and commanding. "Just... let go."

Her cock's blunt head pressed in--huge, a solid weight that sent a tremor rattling through my slim frame. The room's dim glow filtered through the curtains, her towering shadow swallowing mine--her Amazonian bulk dwarfing me as the bed creaked under her shift. Her scent flooded my lungs--raw musk laced with floral perfume, thick and heavy, clogging the air like a trap I couldn't escape.

"You're so big," I gasped, voice shaky, slicing through the stillness.

Her fingers dug into my hips, anchoring me as she eased forward--Susan stroking my cock again, her touch light and teasing, syncing with Victoria's rhythm. My rim met that giant head, a blunt, unyielding force pressing against me, and I clenched hard--my ring tight, resisting, a stubborn knot of muscle fighting her size. Fear spiked sharp in my chest--shit, she'd tear me apart, split me open--but it tangled with a darker heat, a reckless want to be taken, to feel her claim me. My breath hitched, caught between dread and a pull I couldn't name.

"Relax," Victoria murmured, her deep voice rumbling, steadying my racing pulse just enough. "You can take it, slow."

She pushed, and the stretch burned--a slow, searing pressure as my hole fought back, quivering under her force. My rim stretched, thin and taut, every nerve screaming as it tried to hold her out. Then she retreated--her cock pulling back, the pressure lifting--and I exhaled, a shaky gust of relief flooding me, my body slumping against the sheets. Susan's fingers tugged my hair, playful, her voice soft--"You're opening up like a beautiful flower, Liam"--and I almost believed it, the tension easing for a split second.

But Victoria wasn't done. Her hips shifted, pressing again--more this time, a steady, unrelenting push that made my rim flare wider. "Goddamn, you're so tight," she growled, her voice thick with hunger, her fingers tightening on my hips. The giant head nudged harder, stretching my entrance again--my ring buckling, trembling as it gave ground, the burn sharper now, white-hot and alive. I clenched again, instinctive, my body warring with itself--fear of that massive thing ripping me open clashing with a deep, pulsing need to let her in. My cock twitched under Susan's teasing strokes, caught in the chaos, softening then stiffening as jolts sparked up my spine.

She pressed on, and the breach hit--slow, deliberate, the giant head forcing past my rim with a slick, agonizing pop. "Oh god..." I cried out, the sting tearing through me--raw, blinding, like my body was splitting to fit her. Shame flooded me, hot and thick--here I was, stretched wide, exposed--but her praise cut through, "Fuck, you're perfect," her voice a velvet growl, dripping with awe. Passion surged, drowning the fear--her cock was in me now, claiming me, and I wanted it, needed it, even as my mind reeled. My rim stretched thin around her, hugging that massive head, the burn fading to a pulsing ache as she held there, letting me feel it.

Then she moved--her giant cock scraping my walls, digging deeper, expanding me inch by brutal inch. The stretch was relentless, a heavy, sliding weight that carved its way in--wet, slick sounds filling the air as she burrowed, my insides yielding to her size. Every ridge, every vein dragged against me, a rough, conquering grind that stretched me wider than I thought possible. My walls clenched, fluttering around her, trying to grip but failing--too big, too much--her heat searing me from the inside out. Susan's hand kept stroking, light and steady, tethering me as Victoria's cock pushed on--inch after inch, a slow invasion that owned me, my breath ragged, matching her gentle, inevitable thrusts.

She paused, lips nibbling my neck--leaving warm, faint marks--Susan's fingers still tugging my hair, her touch a playful anchor. "You feel incredible," Victoria breathed, her words a shiver down my back, pulling me deeper into the swirl of pain, pleasure, and fear I couldn't pin down. My mind blurred, thoughts dissolving as my body synced to her rhythm--short, shallow gasps trailing her advance.

With a final push, she hilted--her heavy balls pressing flush against mine, a raw, grounding claim that sank into my core. Their heat scorched my skin, coarse hair scraping as they dwarfed mine--marking how small I felt beneath her, how fully she'd taken me. Humiliation flushed my chest, a wave that twisted into a dark, undeniable rush--my breath jagged, body trembling against the cool sheets, stretched and conquered, her cock a solid, pulsing weight inside me.

Victoria turned my head, her lips crashing into mine, tongue sweeping in with hunger--Susan's hand brushing my brow again, wiping sweat as I reeled. She stayed deep, the sting dulling to a throb under growing warmth, her dragon tattoo flexing over her breast--wings flared, claws fierce.

She pulled back slow, a tug of relief and ache, then thrust forward--gentle, the bed creaking with my gasps. My thoughts faded into surrender, pain fading as heat spread--Susan's strokes keeping my cock hard, grinding into the mattress.

"That's it," Victoria murmured, blue eyes glinting with control. "Just let go."

"You're so sensitive now, huh?" she whispered, a tender growl.

She guided my hand down--"Feel that," low and possessive--my fingers brushing the slick, stretched rim, hot and tender--Susan's grin flashing as her fingers grazed it too. Victoria's cock hovered, teasing, its heat promising more--shame creeping in, heavy, knowing she'd claimed me, but the want gnawed, a raw mix I couldn't unravel.

She flipped me onto my back, her bulk looming over me--a mountain of muscle and curves, her round breasts swaying, the dragon's claws on her right breast stark against her skin.

"You're mine now, aren't you?" she asked, her gaze piercing, dark hair framing her sharp features.

I nodded, wordless, caught in her pull. My legs shifted, wrapping her waist, brushing the red and pink roses trailing down her leg--petals bold against her thigh, winding to her calf like a defiant bloom. My calves strained to hold her, arms circling her neck, fingers tangling in her damp hair, anchoring to her like she was my only steady point.

She entered me again, face-to-face, the stretch instant and full--her thick cock splitting me wide in one smooth thrust. Her balls slapped my ass, a wet, primal smack ringing out, blending with the bed's creak as she moved. Our hands locked, fingers tight, a lifeline as her pace quickened, driving the air from me. The slap grew sharper, matching my thudding pulse, a rhythm pulsing through every nerve.

My rim gripped her, tight and needy, every muscle below trembling--clenching hard around her thick shaft as she slid deeper, a reflex I couldn't stop. Victoria moaned, a low, throaty sound, her head tipping back. "Susan, he's clenching so hard around me--this is so damn good," she growled, her voice thick with pleasure, her hips rocking steady. Susan's grin flashed beside me, her fingers still teasing my hair, but I barely registered it--lost in the heat of Victoria's cock filling me, stretching me wide.

Pleasure coiled like a rising tide, dark and heavy in my core, building with each thrust--my walls fluttering, hugging her tight as she drove in. Her frame pressed closer, breasts grazing my chest, sweat slicking us together, the dragon's wings flexing with her power--her rose tattoo brushing my trembling thighs. My legs shook, thighs aching as they hugged her, but I held on--needing her, filled so deep it owned me. She thrust again, harder, her cock scraping my insides--a wet, relentless drag that stretched me further, my rim quivering around her girth. I clenched again, tighter, and she groaned louder, her breath hitching--"Fuck, Liam, you're squeezing me like you can't get enough."

Then she hilted--sudden, deep--her heavy balls pressing flush against my ass, and stopped. Her hips stilled, her cock buried to the root, a solid, pulsing weight inside me. I gasped, my legs kicking helplessly--calves twitching against her roses, feet dangling as she held me there. She looked down, blue eyes softening with a rare, loving glint, her dark hair falling over her sharp face. The moment stretched--silent, heavy--her gaze locking mine as my body adjusted, trembling around her.

"Feel that?" she murmured, her voice low and thick, a smirk tugging her lips. "Your tiny little tunnel's going wild around me right now--tight as hell, wet and slick, twitching like it's begging for more. It's hugging my cock so hard, like it can't get enough--every inch of you squeezing me, pulling me in." She shifted just enough to make me flinch, her balls hot and firm against my skin--coarse hair scraping, their weight a steady press that pinned me down. "The head's right up there," she went on, "pushing deep, stretching you out--your walls keep rippling around it, like they're trying to milk me dry. And these?" She rocked her hips once, her balls nudging harder. "Feel how heavy they are, how full? You're taking all of me, Liam, every damn bit."

My breath came in shallow bursts, my rim clenching again--uncontrolled, desperate--as her words sank in, shame and heat warring inside me. She leaned down, her lips crashing into mine--a deep, hungry kiss, her tongue sweeping in, claiming me as my head spun. She pulled back, breath hot against my mouth, and whispered, "Tell me to fuck you. Tell me--say it. You're mine."

I froze, reluctance knotting my throat--shame burning, want clawing--but her eyes held me, unyielding. "Fuck me," I whispered, barely audible, my voice cracking as I gave in. "Please--fuck me."

"That's it," she purred, her smirk widening, triumph flashing in her gaze. She surged forward--forceful now--every thrust shaking my slim body beneath her, the bed groaning under her power. Her cock drove deeper, scraping my walls with a rough, wet grind--stretching me wider, conquering every inch as my rim gripped her tight. My legs trembled harder, thighs quaking as they clung to her waist--her roses a faint scrape against my skin--my hands squeezing hers, nails digging into her knuckles. Each thrust jolted me, her balls slapping louder--a sharp, primal rhythm--her thick shaft pulsing inside, filling me so full I couldn't think, couldn't breathe--only feel her taking me, owning me, my body shuddering under her relentless claim.

I'd come hard, pleasure crashing through like a dam splitting, seed spilling hot on my stomach and into the sheets, my hips jerking wild. She didn't stop--thrusting once more, her cock still rigid, a beast unspent. My legs shook, spent, but my dancer's muscle flexed, calves straining as they hugged her waist, brushing the red and pink roses trailing her leg--petals bold, slick with our sweat.

"Fuck, Liam," she groaned, hips slamming hard, her frame shuddering as she hit her edge.

Her cock pulsed inside, swelling, and I reached down, trembling fingers brushing where we joined--tracing the stretched rim, then her throbbing shaft as hot seed spilled into me. It flooded warm and thick, coating me deep, a visceral mark I felt in every pulse. My rim clenched, drawing it out, and I moaned into her shoulder, raw and broken, shaking with it.

She kissed me deep, tongues tangling in a slow, desperate pull, breaths hot and shared as we rode the fade. Her heavy balls pressed against me, spent but firm, hair tickling my skin--a lingering claim. My hand lingered, feeling the last throbs, her seed a quiet weight inside, binding me to her.

I collapsed, a sweaty wreck, my body wrung dry. She could go all night--Susan wasn't bullshitting--but I was toast, legs limp as they slid off her thigh, brushing the roses one last time. Her arm hooked me close, her chest steady against my back, a restless twitch in her frame saying she wasn't done. My fingers grazed her knuckles, shaky, the dim glow softening around us. Her seed settled warm inside, a tether to her power, and my head spun--knowing this was just the start, something deep I couldn't unmake.