My Scumbag System-Chapter 333: Bubblegum For Breakfast

I woke up to the best alarm clock in the world.

Wet heat engulfed me, warm and insistent, pulling me from the haze of sleep with all the subtlety of a freight train. My eyes snapped open, brain struggling to catch up with what my body already knew.

Someone was under the covers. Someone was very, very busy.

I lifted the blanket and looked down. Skylar’s indigo hair was a disaster zone, tangled and wild from last night’s activities. Her mascara had migrated halfway down her cheeks, giving her raccoon eyes that somehow made her look more beautiful. Her lips were stretched around me, cheeks hollowed as she worked with a focus that bordered on religious fervor.

She wasn’t doing this because she wanted to wake me up nicely.

She was doing this because she needed to.

The wet, sloppy sounds filled the quiet room. Slurp. Gag. Slurp. She moaned around me, not from pleasure but from pure, desperate hunger. Her violet eyes were glazed, unfocused, completely lost in the act. She didn’t even notice I was awake.

I ran my fingers through her ruined hair, guiding her rhythm. She leaned into the touch like a cat, never breaking her pace. If anything, she went harder.

Note to self: Nectar of the Gods is not a toy. It’s a leash. A very effective, very dangerous leash.

I watched her work, feeling a cocktail of arousal and cold satisfaction swirl in my chest. This was what I’d created. One night. One dose. And the sharp-tongued punk princess who mocked everything and everyone had been reduced to this, desperately sucking me off at six in the morning because her brain chemistry now demanded it.

It was terrifying.

It was also hot as hell.

She gagged when I hit the back of her throat, tears springing to her already-ruined eyes. She didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. The addiction had its hooks in deep. Every nerve in her body was screaming for more of the divine drug that my fluids now carried.

I felt the pressure building, that familiar tightness coiling at the base of my spine. "I’m close," I warned her.

She didn’t pull away. She went deeper, throat convulsing around me as she tried to take more than she physically could. Her nails dug into my thighs hard enough to draw blood.

Smart girl. She wanted every drop.

I came with a grunt, firing thick ropes down her throat. Her eyes rolled back, body shuddering as the Nectar hit her system like a sledgehammer. She swallowed convulsively, gulping it down like a woman dying of thirst who’d just found an oasis.

When she finally pulled off, gasping for air, a string of saliva and other fluids connected her swollen lips to me. She looked wrecked. Absolutely demolished. But her eyes, glazed and half-lidded, held nothing but blissful satisfaction.

The dopamine hit had registered.

I stroked her cheek with my thumb, wiping away a stray drop from the corner of her mouth. "Good girl. You’re getting better at that."

The haze cleared slightly. Something flickered in those violet depths. A spark of her old self, fighting through the chemical fog. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and flipped me off. "Fuck you. Don’t get used to it."

There she was. My little punk princess.

"Too late," I replied, grinning. "I’m already spoiled."

She tried to get up and immediately winced. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed back onto the mattress with a groan. "What the hell did you do to me? I feel like I got hit by a truck."

"Several trucks, actually. All night long."

"I hate you."

"So you keep saying."

She tried again, slower this time, using the bedframe for support. The blanket fell away as she stood, and I got a full view of my handiwork.

Bruises dotted her hips in the perfect shape of my fingerprints. A bite mark decorated her shoulder, the teeth impressions still visible and red. Her inner thighs were rubbed raw, and scratch marks traced down her back like a road map of last night’s journey.

I’d marked her. Thoroughly.

She caught me looking and flushed. "Enjoying the view, pervert?"

"Very much."

She grabbed for her discarded clothes, but I was faster. I caught her wrist and pulled her back onto the bed, onto my lap. She squeaked, a very un-Skylar sound, as I positioned her sideways against my chest.

"Satori, what are you—"

"Shh."

I didn’t start anything. I just held her. My arms wrapped around her small frame, pulling her close against my warmth. She stiffened, confused by the sudden shift from predator to... whatever this was.

Then I kissed her shoulder. Soft. Gentle. Right on the bruise I’d left.

She shivered.

I kissed her neck next, then the bite mark, then every other spot where I’d been too rough. Worshiping the damage I’d done. My hands found her sore muscles, her abused thighs, and I rubbed them with careful pressure, working out the knots.

"What are you doing?" Her voice came out small. Uncertain.

"Taking care of what’s mine."

She melted. I felt the exact moment it happened, the tension draining out of her body like water from a bathtub. She sagged against me, letting out a breath she’d been holding since she woke up.

"You’re mine now, Bubblegum," I murmured against her ear. "Don’t forget it."

She didn’t respond immediately. When she did, her voice was barely a whisper. "I know."

We stayed like that for a while, the morning light creeping through the blinds, painting stripes across her pale skin. It was almost peaceful. Almost domestic. Almost like we were normal people having a normal morning after a normal night.

We weren’t. But it was nice to pretend.

Finally, she extracted herself from my grip, moving carefully to avoid aggravating her various aches.

At the door, she paused. Looked back at me over her shoulder.

"I hate you," she said.

It sounded like something else entirely.

Then she was gone, slipping out into the hallway before anyone else woke up. The door clicked shut behind her.