Pale morning seeped through cracks in the thick velvet curtains, barely making a dent in the sultry hush of the VIP room. The air reeked of sex, sweat, and the perfume that clung to Selene's skin—sweet, highborn, now seasoned with filth and exhaustion. She slept on her side, hair wild across the pillow, a single blanket barely hiding the marks left by Damon's hands and mouth. One bare leg emerged, knee bent, a telltale smear of dried cum trailing the inside of her thigh. Damon sprawled next to her, naked, cock already hard again just from the view.
He let himself drink her in—bruises blooming on the pale slope of her neck, bite marks stamped like a signature over her tits, lips swollen from kissing, from moaning, from begging. There was something about how she slept: one arm tossed over her head, chest rising and falling with deep, shuddering breaths. Innocent, but ruined. His now.
He could've stayed there all morning, but the familiar flicker of static crawled across his vision. The Dickcord System shimmered to life—a neon overlay, words scrolling over Selene's sleeping body like graffiti.
[Dickcord System: Shop Unlocked!]
A menu blinked open in midair, floating just above Selene's ass. The "Noble Women Dress-Up" tab pulsed with gold. Only a handful of options were visible, each with a little animated preview, every single one filthier than the last.
Choker—black leather, silver tag, price: 5,000 SuccuBucks.Tiara—delicate, obscene, price: 12,000.Jeweled nipple rings, paired set: 17,000.Anal plug—studded with rubies, trailing a silver chain: 20,000.Decorative cuffs, leash, branded anklets, and the list went on.
Damon's lip curled. He swiped at the interface, muttering, "What's the fucking point opening a shop if you're gonna price me out of it?" He tapped the choker, just to check. Five thousand SuccuBucks. His last haul—Selene's defloration—put him at three thousand. Not even enough for the cheapest collar.
The System's voice dripped into his head, honeyed and mocking. "First-time buyer special, stud: 40% discount! Shop smarter, not harder."
Damon glared at the air. "You want me to blow all my SuccuBucks on a dog collar?"
A smiley face winked into existence. "A little humiliation goes a long way. Besides, nothing says 'mine' like a cheap choker. C'mon, you know you want it."
He sneered, rolling his eyes, but the System's interface refused to budge. "What if I want to keep my points? Save up for something actually worth it?"
The voice grew sly. "First purchase is always memorable. Don't make me do it for you."
He hesitated. The choker's preview spun, showing a slender black band with a tiny metal tag that said "Obedience" in vulgar script. There was something about it that made his cock throb—maybe the idea of slapping it around a noble throat, breaking a woman with nothing but a collar and a smirk.
Damon huffed, almost said no, but the System decided for him.
[Purchase Complete! Obedience Choker acquired!]
His points dropped. The choker materialized on the nightstand, solid and real, leather warm as if it had just been around someone's throat.
[A little humiliation goes a long way. Slap this on your new toy and watch the pride melt—plus, nothing says 'mine' like a cheap collar.
Effect: Compulsion to say "Yes, sir" or "Yes, Master" at least once per night, even against her own pride. No mind control, no physical power—just humiliating, a slight arousal, and a little addictive.
Bonus: First purchase perk. This collar will always fit your latest conquest, no matter how hard she tries to hide it. A perfect blend of humiliation, fashion, and utter submission. Enjoy your new favorite accessory.]
Damon snatched it up, rolling it between his fingers. "Fucking scam," he muttered, but the weight felt good in his palm. The leather was soft, the buckle shining, the tag swinging with every movement. The system interface flickered, winking out, refusing to answer his curses.
Selene stirred with a soft noise, shifting in her sleep. The blanket dropped from her chest, exposing the sweet curve of her breasts, the deep valley between them flushed and bitten. One pink nipple peaked in the cool air, goosebumps racing down her skin. She made a sleepy sound, then another—little moans, almost needy even in sleep.
Damon felt his cock twitch, heavy and full, the memory of last night making him smirk. He set the choker aside and crawled back onto the bed, looming over Selene as she blinked awake. Her eyes opened slowly, green-gold and unfocused, hair wild around her face. She looked so fucked out, so completely his, he almost wanted to drag her under again right there.
She yawned, arms stretching, the blanket slipping even lower. "Mmm… morning?"
He kissed her, slow and gentle at first, one hand tangling in her hair. She gasped, arching into him, lips parting eagerly. Her tongue met his—sleepy, then greedy, little moans bubbling up as his hand slid down her back, nails grazing her skin. She melted into the kiss, body soft and warm and open, legs spreading a little as his thigh nudged hers apart.
Damon pulled back, breath rough. "Careful, princess. If I start now, you'll be in this bed for days."
Selene flushed, eyes fluttering. "Maybe… that wouldn't be so bad," she whispered, voice husky from sleep and satisfaction.
He grinned, cock throbbing against her thigh. "Temptress."
She giggled, biting her lower lip, then caught sight of the collar in his hand. Her brows knit in confusion. "What's that?"
Damon smirked, brandishing the choker. "A little something to remind you who owns you."
He leaned over her, brushing her hair off her neck, fingers lingering on the delicate line of her throat. Selene's pulse fluttered wildly under his touch. He wrapped the collar around her neck, buckling it snug but not tight, the tag swinging against her collarbone.
There was a soft chime.
[Choker Applied: Selene du Caelis, Noble, Sister of Lucien. Only her master can remove this collar.]
Selene reached up, fingertips brushing the leather. She shivered—a rush of strange pleasure blooming in her belly. The collar was humiliating, obvious, but it fit perfectly, a warm weight on her skin. She couldn't help but smile, eyes shining with a mixture of embarrassment and something darker.
"It feels… nice," she admitted, cheeks pink. "Is that weird?"
Damon laughed, low and rough. "That's the point, princess. Little humiliation's good for you."
She blushed deeper, biting her lip. A ripple of arousal shivered through her—her thighs pressed together, pussy already slicking at the thought of belonging to him, of being marked.
Suddenly, her stomach grumbled—loud, awkward, breaking the spell. Selene's eyes went wide; she buried her face in her hands, mortified.
Damon barked out a laugh. "Guess I fucked you empty last night, huh?"
She peeked through her fingers, giggling. "Shut up…"
He rolled out of bed, stretching, muscles flexing in the dawn light. "You rest. I'll grab something from the kitchen before the staff wakes up. And don't tempt me," he warned, grinning over his shoulder, "or you'll be stuck here another day."
She smiled, fingers playing with the collar, the tag glinting as she moved. "Yes, sir…"
A shiver ran through her. The words came out unbidden, hot and shameful on her tongue, but also thrilling. She couldn't help herself—somewhere in her mind, the need to obey, to please, to submit, became a pulse she couldn't resist.
Damon's grin widened. "Good girl."
He dressed quickly—loose pants, no shirt, not bothering to hide the marks Selene had left on his chest. He scooped up his winnings, tucked the shop interface back into the system, and stepped out into the corridor.
As he closed the door behind him, the Dickcord System pinged again:
[Achievement: First Collared Noble! +500 SuccuBucks]
A new tab winked open in the shop: "Noble Collectibles." The previews showed new accessories—royal sashes, jewelled butt plugs, gilded chains, public-use devices. Damon's mouth watered. This was only the beginning.
Back in the room, Selene curled up in the blankets, hands at her throat, caressing the collar. She felt owned, branded, exposed—and she loved it. Her pussy throbbed, wet against her thigh. Last night's soreness was still there, but it only made the need worse. She wondered if he'd come back soon, if he'd use her again, make her beg, make her say those shameful words over and over until they were all she knew.
She rolled onto her back, fingers ghosting over the tag. "Yes, sir…" she whispered again, a delicious jolt shooting through her core. Her legs squeezed together, heat building, breath coming faster.
Down the hall, Damon prowled toward the kitchen, system menus hovering in his mind. The shop was bigger now—every new conquest, every act of humiliation opened more possibilities. His cock stayed hard, anticipation building. He could already imagine what he'd do with the next noble who crossed his path—how he'd break her, collar her, make her crawl in front of her peers.
He reached the kitchen, grabbing bread and fruit, snagging a bottle of milk from the cold box. Fizz, the brothel handler, lounged at the bar, polishing glasses with a towel. Fizz raised an eyebrow, smirked at Damon's bare chest and still-wild hair.
"Long night?" Fizz drawled, voice smooth as whiskey.
Damon grinned, snagging a bite of fruit. "You could say that."
Fizz's gaze flicked down the hallway. "Our little princess still in bed?"
Damon shrugged. "She'll need a few days before she's walking right."
Fizz chuckled, returning to his glasses. "Better be careful. Nobles tend to bite when you leash them. Especially the proud ones."
Damon's eyes glittered. "That's half the fun."
He piled the food on a tray, heading back. In his mind, the system ticked—showing him Selene's status, the choker's effects, a little digital heart pulsing beside her name.
[Selene du Caelis: Status—Collared. Loyalty: Rising. Libido: High. Hunger: Starving.]
He returned to the room. Selene sat up in bed, hair wild, collar glinting in the light. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with sleep and shame and something deeper. She grinned at him, tucking her legs under her as he set the tray down.
They ate together, laughing softly. Damon watched her fingers drift to the collar again and again, saw the way she squirmed with every "Yes, sir," how her voice trembled on the words, how her pride and shame and arousal tangled into something new.
He wanted to push her, break her, make her beg to wear his collar even in front of her brother, in front of the court. The system hummed, promising new rewards for every step deeper he dragged her.
After breakfast, Damon lounged back against the headboard, Selene curled up beside him, her head on his chest. He played with the tag, tugging gently, watching her shiver.
"You like this, don't you?" he teased, letting the collar drag her closer.
She bit her lip, nodding. "I… I do. It's embarrassing, but… I can't help it. When you put it on me, I just… want to do whatever you say."
He smirked, running his fingers along her jaw. "That's the point, princess. You're mine now."
She flushed, eyes shining with tears and lust. "Yes, sir…"
Damon's cock throbbed—he could have taken her again right there, but he forced himself to wait, to savor the control. There would be time. Now that she was collared, marked, his, the games could really begin.
He thought of all the other noble girls who'd sneer at Selene, then come crawling to him, desperate for a taste of the same shame. He thought of Lucien, oblivious to how thoroughly his sister had been broken, how deep she'd fallen. He thought of the shop's new prizes, each one a new way to degrade, to own, to conquer.
Selene fell asleep against him, sated and content. Damon stared at the ceiling, system menus dancing in his mind, plans unfolding. This was just the beginning. The world was full of nobles waiting to be leashed, broken, remade in his image.
He grinned, heart pounding, cock already hard for the next round. The game was on, and he played to win.
In the half-light, the collar's tag winked, promising humiliation, obedience, and endless pleasure.
And far away, in the depths of the system, a soft voice whispered, hungry, desperate for more.