Moments of Victory 19 (Patreon)

Even as Amy tugged the belt wrapped around Vicky’s new boyfriend's throat, she decided that she liked him far more than Dean. For once, not being on the edge, afraid of her emotions revealing her most shameful secret was relaxing.

Then, he went forward and managed to goad Vicky into a naked photoshoot. Vicky no doubt only agreed because she had no idea of Amy’s terrible thoughts, but she was far too gone to care about it. It was terrible, but it was much less terrible than the constant battle she had with her power, the temptation to rewrite her into an obedient slave to her whims.

The belt around his throat was just a bonus. An excellent bonus. She lost the times she imagined killing Dean with her own hands, and having to replicate that, even as mere acting for a photo shoot, felt cathartic.

Yeah, Amy liked Marcus far more than Dean. Giving him a show wasn’t exactly ideal, but she needed his opinion to make sure she could impress Vicky, so it was acceptable. Especially since he treated her as an attractive woman.

He didn’t fall into pieces, but she didn’t expect him to. He was a photographer — a good one considering he was making enough to get his studio — which meant he had worked with many sexy women. Not to mention, he got to touch Vicky naked. After that, the fact that he registered her as a woman was already better than she had expected.

She couldn’t hope for more.

There was only one challenge. She needed to convince him that she could act as a very willing model, hoping to convince him to push as far as possible once Vicky arrived.

“What now,” she asked, trying to control her excited breathing … and failing.

“Why don’t you take control, mistress. You’re the one with the leash,” he said, the way he called her sending shivers. She didn’t find Marcus attractive, but having him on a literal leash felt different. She was in control.

Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what to do. “On your knees, then,” she ordered as she tugged him down, and he fell on his knees hard. She used her power to check, only to see his knees bruised. “Do I have permission to heal you?” she asked panickedly.

“No,” he said, shocking her. “No, mistress. Let’s keep the bruises. This little slave deserves it,” he growled. His words sent shivers through her even though his tone didn’t sound particularly slavish.

“Good, you need to deserve my healing,” she admitted. Then, even as she had said that she felt something inside her relax. Since when did she dare to actually give conditions to people about healing them. It was just a joke, but she had to admit, she liked it.

“As you wish, mistress,” he whispered even as he leaned back. With a sudden inspiration, she put her foot on his chest, pressing just enough for her heel to hurt him. But, against his shirt, it didn’t feel as satisfying.

“Remove your shirt,” she said.

“As you wish, mistress,” he replied, but she didn’t expect him to just rip it, leaving him half naked. The display was good, and if she was being honest, the muscles he had underneath were even better. She could swear that he looked more muscular than the previous time, but Vicky’s room was dark, and a keyhole was hardly the best view.

She couldn’t help but reach and caress them, imagining how Vicky’s fingers caressed the same areas. It was more intimate than she planned, but she couldn’t help it. She bit her lips as she pulled back, and once again put her heel against his chest, this time seeing his naked skin. “Much better,” she said as she tugged the belt, preventing him from leaning back.

“Excellent choice, mistress,” he said.

“Good, stand up,” she said as she tugged the belt, standing behind him to caress his back muscles, which was even more impressive than his chest. Muscles that she remembered vividly from when he buried Vicky on the bed, impaling her again and again.

A part of her wanted to destroy him for defiling her, one that she would have felt much more strongly if it wasn’t for the fact that it wouldn’t prevent Vicky from eventually making another boyfriend. Amy couldn’t keep her for herself, no matter how much she wanted that.

Not without using her power in a way that would make the villains cringe.

Ultimately, Marcus might be a sleazy photographer with too much experience with women, but she couldn’t refuse the temptation as long as he was willing to include her. She tugged the belt, enjoying the fact he was under her power.

While she was caressing his back, his pants had fallen without warning, leaving him in his boxers, which were strained to the limit. Amy couldn’t help but flattered at his reaction even as she slapped his tight ass. “Did I tell you to remove your pants!”

“Sorry mistress,” he said amusedly. “Unfortunately, my pants don’t stay in place without my belt.”

Amy blushed as the presence of his belt felt weirder in her hand. “It’s not an excuse,” she replied, trying to suppress her shame by being loud. Being dominant was harder than she expected. “On your knees, you deserve a punishment,” she said.

He followed her order. He even bent forward when she pressed her foot on his back, pushing him forward. It was an incredible change of pace. She continued to tug the belt with one hand, while the second one disappeared under her skirt.

She bit her lips, unable to believe that she was touching herself. But, as long as his head was pressing down and he couldn’t see her —

A distinct click interrupted her. Her eyes widened as she remembered a very important fact. They were still taking photos, and the view of her playing with herself had been captured. Her heartbeat picked up speed, and for a moment, she thought about smashing the camera…

Then, she stopped. It didn’t matter. Wasn’t the whole point for him to see that she could handle a ‘fun’ photoshoot with Vicky. That photo only made it likelier. “Beg for mercy,” she said even as she pressed her foot down harder, enjoying his pained gasp.

“Let me apologize properly, mistress,” he begged, for once, his voice actually sounding weak and pathetic. Amy shivered at that change.

“Apologize,” she ordered as she pulled her foot and let him move. He immediately shifted even as he grabbed her foot. Her eyes widened as he touched her foot and leaned. For a moment, she expected that he would kiss her foot.

He did not, instead he just caressed the sides of it before climbing up. She wondered if ordering him to kiss her feet was too much. She wanted him to do that, but she was afraid that it would make him stop.

And, more important things than humiliating him were at stake. Instead, she closed her eyes, making sure to pose properly as his fingers danced on her calves. A moan escaped her mouth, which was not fake. Her legs had been aching, and he was surprisingly good at massaging. She closed her eyes, enjoying his fingers as they slowly climbed up.

Then, her eyes popped open as she remembered the size of the skirt she had been wearing. Panickedly, she looked down, expecting him to lose the show under her skirt. Her panties weren’t exactly modest, even compared to the rest of her outfit.

Since she was panicking about it, finding him focused on her calves rather than trying to look under her skirt should have been alright, but it was not. Somehow, it frustrated her. Was she not good enough for him to take advantage of such a golden opportunity.

No, that would not do. She needed him to look at her, for no reason that she wanted it. She bit her lips as she grabbed the belt of her skirt, and tugged it higher, turning its already revealing state into something obscene, particularly from that angle.

“Focus on my thighs, they are killing me,” she ordered. It was safe to do it. After all, it was just a massage.

“As you wish, mistress,” he said as he raised his head. She enjoyed his shock, even if it went away faster than she would have liked. His eyes got stuck between her legs. From his angle, he must be having an excellent view of her core.

“Good boy —“ she started, only to gasp in shock when he did something she didn’t expect. He kissed her inner thigh. She shivered, not expecting him to do something like that. However, what really shocked her was that she enjoyed it, far more than anything she had done to herself.

Shocked, she didn’t say anything, letting him kiss her thigh higher and higher, until he wasn’t kissing her leg anymore. Her eyes widened as his tongue started to caress her wetness, hitting her with more pleasure than she had ever felt in her life.

Was it how it felt when it was done by someone else?

She knew that she should have stopped it. Posing together was one thing, but letting him lick her core was something else. It was wrong. She only met him today.

… also, he was Vicky’s boyfriend. Yet, she couldn’t refuse the pleasure. She grabbed his hair, pulling him closer to her core, desperate to make him lick faster and faster. With every hit of his tongue, her body trembled harder, the pleasure building up.

He stopped when her legs suddenly trembled, and she lost her balance. Before she could fall down, he already stood up, hugging her to prevent her from falling down. “Careful. Heels can be dangerous if you’re not used to them,” he said.

Amy whimpered. She was aware that he was taller than her, but until this moment, it didn’t matter. He either stood quite a distance away … or had a belt around his neck, which made him feel smaller.

But, as he pulled the belt free of his neck, his aura changed. He got taller, mightier. His hand around her waist, or his cock, pressing against her stomach, noticeable even through her corset, didn’t help either. “Maybe we should stop,” he said.

She whimpered. They couldn’t stop, not at this moment.

“Or, maybe we can try something new.” She opened her mouth to ask what it was, but before she could do so, he already tightened his belt around her neck. Not tight enough to cut her breathing, but tight enough that it was impossible to forget. “Maybe we can see how much you can handle the other side. Can we do that, Amy?”

She whimpered. At the edge of a climax, she found herself unable to speak. Luckily, she didn’t have to. She just fell to her knees.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he looked down. With her hands on his body, Amy could feel that his arousal was spiking. Previously, it was just a game, where even her harshest orders were just a joke. She knew that the rest wouldn’t be. She needed to speak. Ask him to stop. Anything.

She stayed silent.