Two Orbs
Copyright© 2026 by Taoman
Chapter 1
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A frustrated suitor used old magic to overcome the beautiful Chinese bank teller.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft ft/ft Mind Control Reluctant Slavery Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Magic Mother Son DomSub MaleDom Light Bond Spanking White Female Oriental Female Anal Sex Exhibitionism First Oral Sex
The pen slipped from Lian’s fingers as the glass doors slid open. That familiar silhouette—the way his polished Oxfords struck the marble floor with quiet authority—made her throat constrict. Not here. Not now.
Before rational thought could catch up, her body moved. The chair screeched back; her heels clicked too loudly across the bank lobby as she fled past stunned tellers. The back exit’s panic bar bruised her palm when she shoved through it.
Behind the dumpster, knees drawn to her chest, she watched through the wrought-iron fence as his Mercedes purred away from the curb. A shaky exhale fogged the cold metal links. The orb weighed heavily in her blazer pocket, humming like a second heartbeat.
Hours later, the office door clicked shut behind her—too loud in the unnatural silence of the abandoned workspace. A black velvet box sat precisely centered on her desk blotter, the ribbon tied with surgical neatness. Her fingers hovered over the card stock note, its embossed lettering catching the afternoon light: Top Hat Lounge. 7 PM. The second sentence made her knuckles whiten against the edge of the desk.
She peeled back the tissue paper with numb fingertips. Emerald silk slithered across her wrists, the dress whispering promises against her skin. The slit would graze her thigh with every step. The neckline would bare the upper swells of her breasts nearly to the nipples. The orb pulsed once in her pocket, warm as a lover’s mouth against her hipbone.
Lian’s reflection in the department-store mirror didn’t look like her anymore—the emerald fabric clung to curves she usually armored in wool blends. Her fingers trembled on the zipper. This is insanity. But the orb’s heat pulsed through the clutch purse pressed between her thighs, its rhythm syncing with the jazz spilling from the lounge’s hidden speakers.
The bouncer’s eyebrow arched as she approached. “Reservation?” Her practiced bank-manager voice almost cracked when she murmured Ryan’s name. The velvet rope uncoiled like a snake.
The click of her stilettos sounded obscenely loud against the lacquered hardwood. Every eye tracked her—the way the silk clung to her hips, how the neckline gaped with each breath, exposing the full swell of her breasts. A bead of sweat slid between her shoulder blades as she spotted him in the corner booth, fingers under his chin like she was a balance sheet awaiting approval.
His gaze burned hotter than the orb in her purse when he stood—slow, deliberate—to pull out her chair. The brush of his knuckles against her bare back made her flinch. “What have you done inside my head?” she hissed, gripping the table edge as her knees threatened to buckle. The dress slit parted when she sat, revealing far too much thigh.
The jazz singer’s voice curled through the smoky air as Ryan leaned in, his cologne—sandalwood and something darker—flooding her senses. His thumb traced the rim of his whiskey glass, eyes never leaving hers. “You came.” The words weren’t a compliment; they were an audit. Her pulse throbbed where the orb pressed against her inner thigh through the purse fabric, its heat syncing with the bass line thrumming underfoot.
She reached for her martini just to have something to clutch. “This dress—” Her voice fractured. The slit gaped wider as she crossed her legs, the silk whispering secrets against skin no client had ever seen. “I don’t understand what you’ve done to me, but I am going to the police. This is rape!”
Ryan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he set his glass down with deliberate precision. “Rape?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a larger but identical orb. “The orbs are paired. Mine is the Master; yours is the Slave. They are ancient magic artifacts. I didn’t want to use such extreme measures, Lian, but over the past weeks in our meetings, you refused to drop your professional position. I asked you to meet me for drinks and you so coolly refused. I figured you must dislike Americans.”
The martini glass slipped through her fingers, shattering against the hardwood with a sound like breaking ice. Lian’s breath came in short gasps as she stared at the twin orb in Ryan’s palm—its pulsing glow synchronized with the one burning against her thigh. “Weeks? You—you planned this?”
The lounge’s ambient noise faded as the orb’s heat spread up her torso like liquid mercury. She tried to stand—to run—but her legs betrayed her. The dress slit gaped obscenely as she swayed. “What does it want from me?”
“You are a stunning girl, Lian. I thought you and I might have a relationship. But you didn’t seem interested.” He paused and stroked his orb. “So now you don’t have a choice. I own you.”
Lian’s lips parted, but no sound emerged—only the frantic flutter of her pulse at her throat. The orb’s heat surged suddenly, wringing a choked whimper from her as her back arched against the booth’s leather. Silk strained over her breasts with each shallow breath.
Ryan’s fingers closed around the Master Orb with deliberate pressure. He rolled his thumb over it and her nipples tightened and throbbed beneath the silk, peaking hard enough to strain the emerald fabric visibly. Her hands flew up instinctively, but the orb’s magic pinned them to the tabletop.
“Stop—” The word dissolved into a moan as another pulse rolled through her, leaving her thighs slick beneath the scandalous slit.
“This is your fault, Lian. Why did you rebuff all my advances? Most girls find me attractive.”
Her body remembered every calculated rejection. Now the dress he’d chosen clung to her like a second skin. “I ... couldn’t risk...” Her whisper broke as the orb sent another pulse through her swollen nipples.
“You couldn’t risk being alone with me? You didn’t trust yourself?”
Lian’s fingers curled into fists against the table. “I didn’t trust what I’d let you do to me.” The admission ripped free as her thighs trembled, the slit falling open to reveal soaked lace beneath.
Ryan didn’t need to touch her. The Master Orb did it for him. “Orgasm right now, Lian.”
The command ripped through her like lightning. Her back arched violently as the orgasm tore through her with no regard for propriety or place. Silk ripped at the seam where her thighs clenched; her choked scream muffled into the crook of her elbow. Patrons turned; a waiter dropped his tray.