#powercontrolkink

It began in silence.

The kind of silence that wrapped around the soul, ancient and weighty, punctuated only by the low flicker of flame in Zhongli’s private chamber. The stone walls whispered with memory. And Lumine stood still—bare, bare-footed, bathed in soft amber lamplight, trembling with anticipation.

Zhongli approached her not like a man, but like a monument. Eternal. Patient. Dangerous.

His eyes were molten gold, unreadable. His hands—those elegant, gloved hands—rose slowly to cradle her jaw, tilting her chin up as he studied her flushed face. “You trust me?” he asked, voice low and resonant, like the toll of a ceremonial bell.

“Yes,” she breathed.

His gloves slid off finger by finger, placed deliberately beside them on the carved stone altar that served as their bed. And then he peeled away his robes—slow, reverent, like unsealing something divine. Her breath hitched when he revealed himself.

And then it stopped entirely.

His cock was thick. Monstrously thick. Heavy, flushed, and long in a way that defied logic. There was no way her body could take that. Not fully. Not without breaking.

Her cunt clenched anyway.

“Do not fear,” he murmured, stepping close enough that she could feel the heat of him against her belly. “You were meant to stretch for me.”

He guided her down onto the altar, positioning her so her hips rested on the warm, rune-carved stone. His hands smoothed over her inner thighs, spreading her wide, baring her dripping folds.

She gasped when he pressed just the head of his cock against her entrance. It already felt too big. Already stung.

“Breathe,” he commanded.

Then pushed in.

She cried out immediately—her back arched, nails raking against the edge of the altar. The stretch was agonizing, slow and deliberate, her cunt trying desperately to accommodate him, to submit to the sheer size. Inch by inch, he sank in, watching every twitch of her body, every choked sob of pleasure and pain.

“You’re doing beautifully,” he murmured, almost soothing. “So tight. So willing. I’ll train you to take every inch.”

When he bottomed out—hips pressed flush, his cock nestled impossibly deep—Lumine couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her body trembled under him, stretched open around his massive girth, every nerve screaming.

And then he held still.

She whimpered.

“Please… please move—”

“No.” His hand moved to her throat. Not squeezing—holding. Containing. “Not until your body begs properly.”

Her walls fluttered. Her toes curled. He remained motionless inside her, heat pulsing through every vein of his cock, her cunt slicking uncontrollably around him. He’d reduced her to a hole — stretched and full and denied.

When he finally began to move, it was with painstaking control. One inch out. Half back in. Another inch. And again. Slow. Cruel.

Every thrust made her wail—not from force, but from the unrelenting tension of being on the edge, forever.

Her clit throbbed untouched. Her nipples were flushed and hard. Her mind unraveled with every breathless drag of his cock along her trembling walls.

“You feel this?” he murmured, finally leaning in, hips dragging back slow, then slamming forward just hard enough to jolt her up the altar. “This is what it means to be used by a god.”

She sobbed.

He picked up speed—barely—but his strokes grew deeper. Each thrust drove her body further into the stone, until she was convulsing, until she couldn’t stop shaking. His cock pushed against something brutal inside her, grinding against her cervix like he was trying to brand her from within.

And then—

His thumb pressed to her clit.

Lumine screamed.

Her orgasm hit like a collapse—her body seizing, cunt pulsing violently around him as she thrashed against the altar. But he didn’t let her go. He fucked her through it, watching her writhe, using her spasming body as a sheath.

And when she finally came down?

He wasn’t even close to finished.

“Again,” Zhongli said, cock twitching deep inside her.

And he began to thrust in earnest—harder now, faster. Each thrust forced a fresh gush of slick from her wrecked cunt. Her cries were hoarse. Her mind barely held on.

“I’ll fill you,” he growled, hands gripping her thighs now, fucking her so deep she swore he was in her stomach. “Until you swell with my seed. Until every breath you take tastes like me.”

She was gone—her body reduced to nothing but pleasure and pain and Zhongli.

When he came, it was a flood—thick and endless, gushing hot and heavy into her overstretched cunt, spilling back out as he continued to thrust, refusing to stop.

“You’re mine,” he said into her ear.