#thc vapes

The collar was snug. Not too tight, but enough you wouldn't forget you were wearing it. A two-inch wide band of tan leather that wrapped around your neck. Every morning, you picked it up off your bedside table, tightening it just enough, and there it would stay. Fastened tight to you until bedtime, maybe longer if you were missing him.

It was a year since he first gave it to you. Thick, strong fingers pulling the strap tight, the quiet metal clinking of the buckle and the slight release as the tension released. From that moment on, there hadn't been a day you weren't wearing it. That, he has never said but you had inferred, was very much the idea.

Another year behind you, the autumnal chill starting to set in a little later every time nowadays. You'd been out with some friends while he was at work, spending time for the sake of spending it, responding to the steady flow of happy birthday messages coming through your phone as friends from various corners of the internet woke up. You felt a little guilty, he didn't manage to get time off work and here you were enjoying yourself, despite him telling you to just kick back and have a good time. You always were sensitive. He was the only man you'd really been with for any length of time. Maybe that means you were a little naive at times, but you wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now.

He was waiting for you as you walked through the door of your flat. Stood in the hallway dressed in those grey sweatpants you like and a white vest. The bulge in his pants told you that's about everything he had on. The thin cotton vest barely contained his barrel chest and round belly, the rich olive green of his skin showing through the slightly translucent fabric. His smile was warm, welcoming, maybe a little mischievous. The nibs of his tusks poking out ever so slightly from his lower lip. A heavy brow hung like a crag over his face, square jaw matching the brawny, powerfully-built body underneath. The best didn't hide his shoulders at all, coarse hair covering his upper back and arms. You knew that hair carried on down his front and just didn't quit until it reached his ankles.

You draped yourself over him, arms linked behind his head, resting yourself on his chest. He smelled as he always did, fresh cotton, sandalwood, just the hint of sweat. Lost in his arms, you could tell he was holding something. A pair of somethings, in fact. Presumably this was your gift. For now though, you’re enjoying this, listening to the slow drumming of his heart.

A thumb looped through the back of your collar pulled you away. You didn’t resist, biting your lip as you let yourself be controlled. He put something to your lips. You sucked on the hard plastic tip pressed between your lips. The sweet vapour went straight to your head. It wasn’t a very high concentration, but you didn’t have an awfully high tolerance to THC.

A sharp snapping sound behind your head brought you back to reality. You pulled a little further away. One hand held the THC pen he’d just given you a hit of, the other had a bright yellow piece of plastic.

“Is that a-”

“Yes” he cut you off. He was using his deep voice. The one reserved for when things were going to get interesting “And you know what it’s for”

You nodded. He held out the pen again, clicking with his other hand as your lungs filled. “Good” A hand through your hair. “Now once more for me?”

Again you took a hit off the pen. You were starting to feel it now, just a little. A fuzzy feeling around the edges of your senses. Everything was still normal, just a little sideways-on from usual.

“Now it’s gonna get a little more… Complex. You understand? Nod if you understand”

You nodded. Puff. Click

“Good. spin around for me”

You turned, slowly, feeling his eyes on you. A nod. Another hit. Another click.

“Good puppy. Follow me”

He led you into the sitting room, taking a seat on the armchair. You went for the sofa without thinking. A short cough, and you caught yourself. Short, stumbling steps took you to his chair, standing in front of him as he leaned back. He was taller than you, much taller. Sat down like this, he could almost look you in the eyes without looking up at all. He was sizing you up, eyes darting this way and that, scanning your face, looking at how your arms hung from you. He knows you, your limits. How you look when he gets near them. Satisfied, he smiles at you.

“You’re wearing shoes. Take them off.”

You looked down, seeing the thick-soled winter boots. You’d forgotten all about them. You knelt, tugging on the laces and pulling them off, putting the shoes to one side before standing back up

Another click. Your eyes darted to his other hand, holding the pen. It didn’t come. Instead he just smiled “Good pup”

That same hazy feeling came over you. You smiled, feeling yourself sway a little.

“Now… Your top”

You pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it to one side, exposing your round belly and the bra holding your ample breasts, tousling your short hair. Again you looked at the pen, a swell of gratitude rising as he held it towards you. Another click as you drew the vapour into your lungs, more prising words to fill your ears. You opened your eyes, you’d bent forwards at the waist, leaning over him to get to the pen.

He was smirking, eyes on your tits. “Bra next. Go on, puppy”

The drugs were working. Clumsy fingers reached behind you. Fumbling with the three hooks keeping your bra in place. It took a couple of tries before you managed it, feeling the support give way before you slid your arms free. The discarded garment took its place on the pile as he clicked again and you stood there, tits freed, looking at him, awaiting his next command.

“Good pet. Next the skirt.”

Again, you slipped off the garment without thinking. Kicking it over to the corner of the room, you stripped your panties, pre-empting his next command.

Another click “Aww, such a good pet, aren't you? So eager to strip. Now, get on your knees for me”

Your knees gave way. Again, another click. Face to face with his crotch, head swimming with repeated low doses of that pen. You could feel yourself getting wet for it. The dumb smile growing on your face told him everything he needed to know.

You reached for his waistband. Click.

He lifted his hips, letting you pull the fabric from under him. Click.

You aren’t even thinking about the pen any more. Every click makes your smile broaden. You feel yourself sinking deeper every time. No thoughts. Just that click, click, click.

Face buried in his crotch, you breathe in his sweat. The musk makes your head spin faster. He tastes as good as he smells, rapidly hardening as your tongue caresses him from base to tip. Every time your tongue passes over the head of his cock, another click rewards you. His taste fills you, the heat rising in you until he finally gets up.

Strong arms pull you up onto the chair, opening your legs for him to take his place between them. Your slick is dripping from you, you feel it running in slow rivulets over your skin as he lines himself up. He puts the pen in your mouth. You suck another hit from it. The click rewards you.

He slips in. You’re so wet he doesn’t even have to force it. Your stoned body needs him so much, to feel him stretching you out. He doesn’t disappoint.

Thrust after thrust. Your head spins faster and faster. Butterflies swarm within you. You’re whining for him, begging him not to stop. He’s all you can focus on, the feeling of him ploughing you. Every stroke hitting your cervix, coaxing out whimpers. Your hands grasp at him, clutching his vest, almost tearing the thin fabric.

He holds your mouth closed around the pen as you climax. More and more of the drugged vapour fills you. Your head spins faster. Your body feels limp, floating on air. The sounds you’re making are distant, somehow. Blissed out, bathing in the endorphins of your release and the drugs permeating your awareness.

He holds you close as he finishes in you. You can feel him filling you, warm cum flowing into your body.

Gradually, you come back down. Little by little, until the sky-high becomes a low buzz. He stays with you, holding you close.

“You did great, sweetheart. Just perfect”