Chapter 1

Mistress Lena's hand stayed firm in his hair, guiding him with slow, deliberate movements, urging him closer to her. He followed, utterly consumed by her presence. His mouth grazed over her skin, each kiss a desperate plea for more, each touch a silent promise of devotion. The soft, heavy weight of her body under his lips was overwhelming, intoxicating in its beauty and power.

"You want me to grow," she said, her voice low, like velvet wrapping around him. "You want to see me expand, to feel me grow heavier, more powerful. Am I right, little one?"

"Yes, Mistress," Ethan whispered, his voice trembling. "I want to see you—feel you get bigger. You're perfect just as you are."

She chuckled darkly, a wicked glint in her eyes. "I know I am. And you're going to help me, aren’t you?" Her hand gently pushed against his chest, urging him back as she shifted on the chaise, giving him a full view of her. The soft curve of her belly, her thick thighs, the plushness of her body that seemed to command his attention effortlessly. "I’m going to feed myself, and you’ll be here to serve me. All of it. All for me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress," he murmured, his chest tight with anticipation.

She smirked, her gaze darkening. "Good boy. Then come here and watch closely. You're going to help me get even bigger tonight." She beckoned him closer with a lazy flick of her fingers. "And remember, the more you please me, the more I grow. The more I indulge. You exist to make that happen."

Ethan crawled forward again, his hands trembling with eagerness as he settled beside her. She opened a small dish of sweet cream and placed a spoon in his hand, her eyes never leaving his. "Feed me," she commanded, her voice sharp with authority. "Feed me like the good little servant you are. You love to see me satisfied."

With reverence, he lifted the spoon to her lips, watching in awe as she opened her mouth to take it, savoring the sweet treat. Each time the spoon returned to his hands, it seemed to weigh more, her desires growing, her appetite expanding—and his submission deepening.

"That's it," she purred, taking another spoonful. "You’re so good at this. I can feel it. The way you crave to please me. Your purpose is so clear now, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mistress," he whispered, his own breath ragged with desire as he continued to serve her, every gesture of submission fueling her expansion, the power she held over him growing with each indulgence.

And he could already feel it—his devotion only making her more commanding, more irresistible. She was a goddess, and he, her willing servant, was ready to help her grow forever.