Chocolate Milk

She sipped champagne luxuriously as he approached seductively, channeling his inner Chippendale dancer, trying to make her pleasantly-entertained smile slip to a 'fuck me,' lustful one. Pushing the booth table aside made the crowd cheer for the show taking place. He never questioned how the drink she handed him was the exact kind consumer earlier. Glasses clanked, and their contents mutually swallowed. He was less gracefully as he let the chocolatey contents spill down his chin and stain the shirt with provocative abandon. The smell at the rim of it intoxicated him more, just like her perfume. Dark chocolate skin, especially the breasts, seduced him right back, trying to up the ante with gyrating hips. The glistening creature as a whole blinded his thoughts will her brilliance. He lowered his face to hers to share a look, mouthing the lyrics to each other at the slower pace of the remix.

He didn't know when he'd ripped his shirt captioned "my birthday present; be gentle" off to entice the woman below him with hard, chiseled pecs, but he seemed to enjoy the response, less the crowd's jeers and more that golden lady's biting of her lower lip as she sucked in a sharp breath, glasses somehow not foggy.

Every bicep and chest muscle was flexed in front of her, inciting her to join him, moving closer. But her hand gestured a bit for him to back up, not to stop, but to get a better look at the whole of him. Dane complied, giving her ample view of all his dance moves, briefly stopping at a sudden rush of something cool. He turned to the goddess to see a super soaker in hand. He saw brown liquid running down his chest, taking a drop into his mouth; it tasted of Yoohoo and chocolate milk to his tongue. Groaning to himself, he moved closer to her, knowing every step would mean more liquid sprayed onto his body. She reveled in it like he did, the cool splashes almost matching the heat of his dance. He arched his back as she expertly hit both nipples, driving the crowd wild as he tweaked his own nipples and licked the contents off his fingers. She gestured for a face-to-face again, and Dane was ready to move in for a kiss. Eyes closed, his confidence was shaken at lips kissing the barrel of her chocolate milk gun. She waited for his eyes to open before firing into his mouth. A stream hit the roof of his mouth and fell to his taste buds, and he closed his eyes, savoring the taste, sucking on the nipple-shaped barrel as if he could suck more out of it; she was more than happy to supply the illusion with more sprays. The gun emptied all over his body and mouth, his pants seemed as stained as her panties.

Music winding down, the nearly straddled goddess made a pulling motion, like she was pulling at a chain collar wrapped around Dane's neck. Obligingly, Dane's desire made him feel the pull and brought him close to dazzling cleavage, ready to bury his face there, or so everyone thought. Before he could dive in, Dane's ear was graced with strange advice.

"Sober up."

The cheers and jeers included laughter as the dancing stripper immediately came off his high, trying to realize what had happened and how he got there. A 30 year old adult had flashbacks of grade school stage embarrassment, arranged by a cunning encourager disguised as a helpful friend. Past exploits had nothing on his chocolate milk soaked chest though. Just like back then, nervous smiling was a weak facade for the bewilderment and downright self-consciousness post-performance, broad arms trying to cover his chest in laughable modesty; the regal goddess spit-taked champagne with laughter. And instead of the natural reaction of excusing himself to the nearest restroom, his feet took him to the club's exit, across admirers reaching out to discover those ripped, slick muscles first hand.

Conveniently for him, there was a limo outside and a driver kindly holding the door open for him as he hid himself from public view. The scene outside seemed a conundrum for those noticing his hasty retreat, until the golden goddess arrived at the limo minutes later, strutting to it like she owned it, and the occupant. She, or rather, I would've been right behind Dane, but it took a while to accept all the birthday greetings. And I had to give special thanks to the DJ and bartender for helping to make it a special birthday for me. I originally wanted Lose Yourself by Eminem to play, but the DJ's choice worked better for the show Dane "planned" for her.

Out at the limo patiently waiting for me, I thanked the driver, reminding him the goings on in the back were nothing important, no matter the sights or sounds; fortunately he was a successful attempt at more practice for instant inductions. Wide eyes inside the limo took my towering golden form in, scooching over at my posh gesture to make room for me. I entered, never taking my eyes off him, moving to invade his vulnerable space, knowing he was just waiting for me to do whatever I wanted.

Pulling off and intentionally driving in the slow lane around the city, I spent precious minutes just stroking his chest, like the club women wished they could. His hairless torso felt liberally stroking palms, and manicured champagne-colored nails that scratched here and there. Not a word was spoken between us; none were needed as he just took my seduction wholly, gripping the leather seats, knowing he was unable to move. The closest he came to any words was when his nipples found themselves in a vice-like grip between soft fingers, nearly as painful as sharp nails gripping them. Whatever he may have moaned in despair or pleading, it didn't deter me, pulling him to the wide limo floor to his knees, playfully tugging at one harder than the other every few seconds, making him dance like puppet on strings. Once off the seat, I laid my whole body across, similar to how he found me in my apartment earlier that night. I saw the realization creep back into his eyes as to who I really was; that's when I finally spoke.

"Really? 'Chocolate milk'?"

A stinging slap to his face was taken in experienced stride, all the way down into a deep, programmed trance. Another great fetish I learned about after erotic hypnosis was called impact play. Questioned it as a kink, and never expected to like or use it like this, but it felt destined to be in my arsenal. The slap gracing his face was so loud, I'm sure other cars passing by could've heard it, but I bet the sound never registered to Dane at all, just the pain, then the warmth of the pain, then the absence of it, then just warm pleasure, looking forward to the pleasure of obeying Shawna. I kind of hate and love how the smile as a result of the pain I inflicted just made me wetter, which made me backhand him, which could've turned into a vicious cycle if I didn't keep whatever else I wanted to do in mind.

"You're so lucky your golden goddess is just a little more creative than she is vindictive. Do you remember the last time we were really intimate with each other?"

"Yes Shawna."

I'd always considered having a title attached to my name, but the way he said my name when deep under, the bottomless reverence in his voice, that was more than enough for me.

"Why don't you give that last time some deep thought, remember everything that you felt then, how good it was, how unbelievably sexy you found me, willing to do anything to have me. We've now come to a little later than that, where the passion is still high, and we're living it up in a special limo ride. Add to that that a while ago, you remember me hearing about your 'chocolate milk' comment. You've apologized, and I've been forgiving, but the nervousness lingers, maybe for good reason. When you have all those things in mind, say 'yes Shawna' again."

Blended emotions swirling over his face made me appreciate the several minutes it took for him to reach the point I wanted, coming to 90% smiles, 10% fear.

"Yes Shawna."

"Good, then wake up to the now."

A few blinks and puppy-dog head shakes later, the delicious Danish I wanted had appeared.

"Hey Shawna."

"Hey Sweet Treat."

He chuckled boyishly at being referred to as food.

"Quite a date night, huh?"

"Uhh...yeah," he tried to figure how a date night got to this point, but the blinding passion he thought up was a convincing cover.

"Hell yeah," confidence seeped in his voice.

"Like nothing could ever ruin it, right?"

The corners of his smile slipped downward, indicating how well he knew me.

"Uh..."

"For some reason, 'chocolate milk' came to mind tonight."

I reached over to get a glass of champagne for myself, and a Yoohoo for Dane. We clinked glasses again, and he still wondered why it tasted so different, while he fixed his eyes on my breasts being pressed together between my arms.

"I'm not one to kill a hot moment, but it wouldn't feel right if we didn't talk about."

Meanwhile, my words didn't keep anything I was doing from making things hotter. A thigh peeked out of the slit of my dress, my hand caressed the valley between my cleavage. A smarter, more aware man might have complained about the manipulation, but a good boy like Dane just took it, which was a sign of "smart enough," earning him the right to be there.

"I'm not going to get angry about it, I think I'm past that. But I think I'm at some new weird phase with it on my mind. The 'Sacred Cow' phase."

"The what?"

It did sound crazy when it came out of my mouth; keeping my composure to explain it and not laugh was hard. One slip and we both would've devolved into a giggle fit for the rest of the ride.

"Sacred Cow. Call it me looking at the bright side of something not necessarily pleasing. You have to admit, there is some accuracy there too. I know I'm practically a diva in your eyes, the reason your eyes shine, and get glassy."

"Well..." he started as if trying to defend his position.

"Well, what? You saying I don't shine brilliantly in your eyes?"

I let him linger over every glimmering inch, from tiara to toes, moving any which way I thought would shine the most in his eyes.

"No, you are very shiny and brilliant."

"Yes I am. And don't you find yourself thinking about, or just worshiping me, revering me out in the open, a few notches above chivalry?"

My hand raised his chin up to meet my gaze before he could lower his, tickling under his chin, giving him a smug look that told him he was mine.

"Always," his words were as naked as half of him, something I reconciled right then.

"Me telling you to take your pants off would be far from an unreasonable request, right?"

I scratched a little more under the chin, not breaking skin, but definitely for him to feel it more, and respond quickly, unsheathing the rest of that Adonis body.

"I didn't think so. So, the idea of 'Sacred Cow' makes sense now, right?"

"Yeah...but you're not a cow," he tried to clarify, sincerely wanting to ensure he never meant as such with me again.

"...who said I was the cow?"

"What?"

"Oh, the misunderstanding," I told him with a few gentle, tsking slaps to his face.

"'Sacred Cow' isn't me; it's us."

I let him try to makes sense of it and fail.

"Sacred," placed a gentile hand on my chest.

"Cow," my husky whisper matched his hardening dick being pumped vivaciously, then yanked hard downward till he was on his hands and knees.

"Or kow-tow, if you want to get technical," I let a quick evil laugh loose. "So let's clarify, Sacred," pointing to myself again. "Cow," my sharp nail teased his bellend.

"Shawna, Sacred. Danish, cow."

"Shawna, revered. Danish, resigned."

"Shawna, worshiped. Danish, milked?"

Goosebumps arose seeing wide, hopeful, glassy eyes from a sexually-charged trance, cause even I didn't know then if he was going to be denied or not. His hand reaching for his dick wasn't stopped, so he started to pump at a speed I'd commanded him to use before. Good subconscious memory.

"See? You get it. What is Shawna?"

"Sacred."

"And what is Danish?"

"Co-ooohhhh-ow."

"Yuuuup..." I felt then I was close to that plateau myself.

"Put that other hand to good use," I told him while opening my thighs a little. I felt seasoned fingers enter my treasured cave, trusting him to satisfy me. My assumption was right as I came much quicker than expected, convulsing onto his hand despite the slow build-up phase he was on. His mind took the hint from my pleasure that it was his turn. I grabbed his hair and told him to bend down quickly, making him spurt on the towel he rested on, because I didn't feel like hypnotizing the driver, his boss, and future customers to disregard cum stains. Bitches can be mannerable too, you know.

We were breathing heavily, mutually surprised we'd come so hard, despite the build up going on all day. His face landed in my chest, lips kissing and more glitter being licked off hot flesh. Recovering under revered stimulation made me sigh. I sort of felt like I was capitulating by undoing the straps behind my dress to unleash the secret object of his all-day obsession. I had a stern look planned, to make him question if he was even allowed to even be at my breasts, let alone go to my nipple; eventually he'd cave, but not before I'd enjoy his doubt. Danish was running on pure instinct and didn't even look at me as he felt the dress come undone, slipping all the way to my rocky nipple.

My beauties were lactating well lately, so he got a taste of me quickly, and that was all it took for waves of realization to come over him, one after another, to realize he'd finally found the pure, unfiltered, mind-numbing chocolate milk he'd wanted for "his" birthday. That first taste got him to suck harder, trying to drain me dry right away.

Another slap to the face corrected him.

"Gently, sip on it. Don't rip into to me, dummy."

Lips calmed and breathing slowed as he savored each slip and swallow of my mind-numbing, cock-hardening lusty tit potion, made with natural ingredients, fortified with the power of suggestion. The goofiest smile on his face I'd ever seen, with the glassiest eyes as the limos lighting made the glitter he hadn't licked off of my chest sparkle, making his aura of worship more dazzling. That day's life's mission complete for him, his excitement knew no bounds. How quickly his own erection recovered, born of mammary milk and pleasing Goddess, surprised even me.

"Sacred Cow" I whispered in his ear again, deepening the horny hypnotism, and he took hold of his dick and started stroking my wet folds again. The added sensation at my breasts got me to speak my mind he went at both of us.

"Chocolate milk in, white milk out."

He tried to say it while sucking; it felt like a bite and tickle. Telling him to repeat in his mind with a fresh slap quelled that.

"Chocolate milk in, white milk out."

"Chocolate milk in, white milk out."

"Chocolate milk in, white milk out."

He came hard again on the third or fourth saying, as did I. He would've stopped for a breather and to recover naturally after that, but I decided he wasn't done yet.

"Chocolate milk in, white milk out."

He went at the neglected breast at my insistence, and stroked himself after he thought he was wrung out of enough sperm.

"Chocolate milk in, white milk out."

"Chocolate milk in, white milk out."

He thought wrong.

"Chocolate milk in, white milk out."

"Chocolate milk in, white milk out."

"Chocolate milk in, white milk out."

Not sure how many times I made him cum, but I know I'd stopped us when I was satisfied. We were two hot messes by the end, perspiration all over my face, golden glitter all over his from licking my cleavage. Tears of joy and exhaustion filled his eyes, with just joy in mine. I knew we'd carry each other into someone's apartment, and then bed soon to cap the night off right. Before that, a new evil impulse came, and I accepted its proposal. Once fully awake, I offered more milk before asking him a simple question.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Joking about chocolate milk like that when a butt of that joke owns you, bitchboy?"

Daggers shaped like sharp, angry whispers pierced his brain. Such sweet deception, reducing him to a demeaned child under a livid parent. Danish recoiled in horror in a couple of ways: not having a good answer for his poor joke, not having enough blood in his brain to think of a good lie, not able to quell at all the fury of the woman who's been above him and shackled him to her his whole life. Soon he'd get another slap, a natural follow-up to such fury, producing magical happy trance, followed by some nicer play and amicable amour. Till then though, a delicious showcase highlighting the most sound of deeds - taking my toy early, and never letting go.

I licked my lips and smiled on the inside.