Chapter 15 – Mason
Igot back to the suite and headed straight for the shower. It only took three pumps of my hand until I was coming all over the tiles. At this rate, we were going to have to call a plumber soon; jizz was terrible for pipes.
I leaned against the wall, heart racing, letting the water wash it away. I hated wasting it, yet here we were again. All of my come should go in and on Leslie, and I promised myself that next time, it would be inside her—cunt, mouth, or ass, or maybe all three, I wasn’t choosy.
Just the thought of filling her three holes made me hard all over again, and
I had to beat off until my cock felt rubbed raw. Still, I didn’t feel satisfied, but it would have to be enough for now.
My plan was working. She was so turned on, she hadn’t stopped me, which was the important thing. I had a hunch that she wouldn’t go against my order, at least as long as she could. But I didn’t believe in hunches. Fortunately, I’d prepared for this. Before move-in day, I’d bribed an assistant in the housing department to give me Leslie’s dorm room information so I could hide cameras in her room. I’d also put a powdered aphrodisiac called Vixen in her latte. Even though Emory had disapproved, Matt had gotten me in touch with his contact at Reina U—Jack Feldman, left wing for the Reina University Kings. The Kings were our team’s main rival, but if Jack knew a dealer with easy access to Vixen and Vice, engaging with him was a necessary evil.
The gossip was that Jack had ties to the mafia, and that one of his older brothers was a Navy SEAL-turned-hitman, and the other was a billionaire. Rumors aside, Jack was a sociopath. He made my actions look downright saintly. I didn’t give a shit who he was related to. He’d gotten me the name of a dealer who had the drugs I needed, and for that, I was grateful.
Not that I’d take it easy on him when we played his team.
One dose of Vixen had cost me a fortune, but it was worth it. It took about 3 to 4 hours to go into effect. But by tonight, my butterfly would be desperate. Probably so desperate that she wouldn’t be able to follow my order not to come for long.
I couldn’t fucking wait.
Emory could go suck a dick. I knew he was looking out for me, and wanted me to try to take a slower, more rational approach. And I’d been willing to, until she’d told me goodbye. That wouldn’t do. I knew I was being an asshole about this, but I didn’t care. The best thing for Leslie was to be with me, to let me take care of her. I’d heard about the confrontation with Emily in her dance class on Monday, and the fact that Leslie hadn’t come to me to help—or at least called me out on Emily’s accusations—was unacceptable. We belonged together, and getting her to lower her inhibitions and be with me, full out, no restrictions, no doubts, was the only way to get us there. The first step, but a necessary one.
Who cared if it was illegal?
Who gave a shit if it was fucking unethical?
What did it matter if I was going to hell for it?
I’d promised myself I’d do anything to make Leslie mine—and this was part of the anything.
My phone buzzed, distracting me.
Did it work?
It was from an unfamiliar number with a New York City area code.
who the fuck is this
I typed.
Jack Feldman. Did the Vixen work?
Speak of the fucking devil. He even used punctuation like a sociopath. Who the hell used periods and capitalization in text messages?
why don’t you know that yourself
Haven’t tested it on anyone. Haven’t found the need to, yet. Your girlfriend is my guinea pig.
Alarm briefly swept through me. Vixen was an aphrodisiac, but it shouldn’t physically harm Leslie. If it seriously hurt her…
I swear to god Feldman this shit better not have long term negative effects
or I’m going to come to Reina’s campus and shove my stick up your ass
turn you into a human shish kabob
That’s a nice visual.
Don’t worry, it shouldn’t hurt her.
The only person who’s going to be hurting your girlfriend is you.
I swallowed, unsure how to respond. Although I felt some relief at the confirmation that Vixen wasn’t going to have long term ill-effects on Leslie, Jack just putting it out there caused me a moment of self-doubt. Drugging her to get what I wanted was fucked. I knew it, Emory knew it, and Jack clearly knew it.
And then another text came through:
That’s not a bad thing, if it gets you both what you need. But you need to be honest with yourself about what you’re doing.
I relaxed. He was right. So I asked,
why do you keep calling her my girlfriend
If you wanted to score some Vixen and Vice so you could take advantage of some unsuspecting girl at Tabb who doesn’t matter to you so you can get laid, you’re a pathetic incel jackass who doesn’t deserve to fucking breathe. But if she matters to you, and deep down, you know this is something she needs, but this is the only way you can get her there…then I’ll let you live.
I stared down at my phone, shaking my head.
Enjoy the Vice, too. You can tell me all about it when we beat you next month.
There was no way in hell I’d let his team beat us.
whatever man
i’m not telling you shit about my dick
and you’re not gonna beat us
Okay.
See? Complete sociopath. And yeah, it takes one to know one.
Still, he was right.
So I went to my bedroom, popped a Vice (another black market drug that was basically Viagra on steroids; no refractory period, no side effects), opened my laptop, navigated over the application that accessed the cameras in Leslie’s room, wrapped my fist around my cock, and settled in to watch the show.
Leslie’s dorm room was empty. Where was she?
As I waited, I scrolled back to yesterday’s footage. What I saw had my jaw stiffening and my cock going soft. I watched in rage as that asshole RA forced his way into her room, collapsed on her bed without her fucking permission, and said something that clearly made her upset. I cursed myself for not installing mics, so I could hear what he said. No matter, whatever it was had made her uncomfortable, and no one made my butterfly uncomfortable but me. Leslie’s RA was about to learn a very important lesson: You don’t mess with what’s mine without consequence.
As I ran through ideas of how to handle him, the door to Leslie’s room opened and she appeared in the camera. As she frantically pulled off her clothes, I settled in to watch the show.
The RA could wait. Seeing my stepsister lose her inhibitions to the drug in her system? And then giving her exactly what she needed, exactly how she needed it? That took priority.
But I’d deal with him later. He wouldn’t fuck with her again, not when I was done with him.