The sun never touched this place.
Beneath the grand mansion, hidden by stone walls and heavy iron doors, there was a dungeon dressed not in filth — but in velvet and silk. A place where moans echoed longer than screams.
The room smelled of silk, leather, and wet desire.
Lily's body lay stretched and helpless on the velvet bed, wrists bound above his head, ankles wide apart — his cursed, fragile form trembling, soft skin flushed pink from endless teasing.
The women circled him like wolves dressed as queens.
Their fingers gloved, their lips dark with hunger.
"Look at him," one of them whispered, running her hand down his exposed, slick slit.
"So eager. So ready. And yet... still thinking he has a choice."
The first woman sat on his chest, pinning him down, her soaked heat hovering over his mouth.
Without a word, she lowered herself, grinding her taste onto his lips, forcing him to lick, to drink her, as the others watched.
"You'll swallow everything, little toy. Every last drop."
His muffled moans vibrated against her, his tongue working desperately, trying to please, to survive.
But it wasn't enough.
Another woman slipped behind him, spreading his sore, used hole even wider, pushing a thick, cold toy inside — deeper and deeper — until Lily's back arched, and his voice broke into sweet, high-pitched sobs.
"Listen to him."
"Like music, isn't it?"
They took turns, using him from both ends, stretching him, filling him, drowning him in their scent and their power.
He was no longer just a boy. No longer human.
He was a plaything, a cursed pet — shaped by their hands, trained by their cruelty.
And deep inside his trembling, stretched body... he loved every second.
Even when tears blurred his vision, even when his voice cracked from the moans — he craved more.
Craved being helpless. Craved being owned.
The velvet dungeon grew darker as the hours slipped by, but Lily's body had long lost track of time.
His lips were swollen from licking, his throat sore from moaning, and his stretched, sensitive hole quivered — used, filled, and emptied over and over by the merciless hands that ruled him.
The women didn't need words anymore.
A single glance was enough to command him.
A tilt of their head and he opened his mouth, presenting his tongue like a thirsty pet.
A soft pat on his ass, and he'd spread his legs wider, begging to be filled.
"Good little slut."
"You've finally accepted it, haven't you?"
The last woman that night was the cruelest.
She leaned in close, her tongue tracing the rim of his ear, her voice dripping with venomous sweetness.
"You'll never escape this curse."
"Your body was made to be used. Your heart was made to beg. And you... you'll beg for me next."
Her fingers slid inside him, slow at first — but with each stroke, deeper, harder, stretching him until his body shook, and his voice cracked into pure, broken sobs.
His body betrayed him.
Every wave of pain twisted into unbearable pleasure.
Every moment of humiliation carved deeper into his soul.
When dawn finally threatened the sky, his body lay limp — soaked in sweat, fluids, and perfume, his hole still leaking from their endless use.
But his heart whispered one, cursed truth:
"I want more."
"Please... more."
A place built for cursed bodies like his.
Lily's wrists were bound with soft red ribbons this time, not iron. But the comfort was only a trap.
His ankles were spread wide, tied to the corners of a velvet-covered bed — exposed, helpless, and dripping with anticipation.
The door opened slowly, the scent of expensive perfume and leather filling the room.
A group of women stepped in — older, elegant, cruel — dressed in tight black gowns, their eyes sharp and hungry.
They didn't speak. They didn't need to.
One by one, they approached.
Gloved hands touched his trembling thighs, brushing the soft skin, fingers trailing up to his leaking, sensitive slit.
One woman leaned down, her voice soft but sharp as a blade.
"You've been trained well... but not enough."
"Tonight, we'll teach you what true submission tastes like."
The first touch was slow, a single gloved finger slipping inside, twisting, teasing the sensitive, stretched flesh.
Lily's body twitched, his lips parted, releasing soft, broken moans — the kind that filled rooms with heat.
Another hand reached his mouth, pressing two fingers past his lips, making him suck while his other hole was toyed with, stretched wider.
"You were born for this, weren't you?"
"A cursed little femboy... helpless, obedient, leaking for strangers."
His cursed, weak body responded before his mind could resist.
The night was only starting, but his shame was already overflowing.