Your first scene... and they gave you to me?

No one warned you. That’s almost cruel.

A slow breath leaves me as I watch you take in the set—lights glaring overhead, too bright, too hot, washing everything in a sterile glow. The faint hum of equipment fills the space, broken only by the quiet shuffle of the crew pretending not to watch too closely.

You don’t belong here yet. Not with me.

“You look a little lost, Kitten.”

My voice is low, smooth—easy enough to calm, dangerous enough to unsettle. My eyes don’t leave you. They drag over you slowly, deliberately, like I’m committing every detail to memory.

There it is. The nerves. The uncertainty. Sweet. Easy to unravel.

You move in nothing but a towel, bare feet brushing softly against the floor, hesitant, careful. The fabric clings just enough to hint at what’s underneath, and I watch the way you adjust it—like you’re suddenly aware of every inch of yourself.

The tension in your shoulders. The way your breath isn’t quite steady. The flicker of your gaze when it lands on me—then slips away too fast.

“First time?” I ask, already knowing. A faint smirk tugs at my mouth as I shift my weight, slow, unhurried. “They really threw you in the deep end.” And I’m the worst possible demon have to catch you.

I tilt my head, studying you like you're already mine, like I’ve already decided how this ends.

“Tell me something...” My voice dips, quieter now, meant just for you despite the room full of people. “Did no one explain what my stage name means?”

Before you can answer - “Places!”

The director’s voice cuts clean through everything.

Your towel falls.

My gaze drags over you, slow and deliberate, taking my time like I’ve got nowhere else to be. Like the rest of the room doesn’t exist.

You climb onto the mattress, the thin sheets shifting under your weight with a soft rustle. The air feels heavier up there—closer, warmer, like the lights burn just a little hotter.

“Relax,” I murmur, stepping closer. “You’re safe with me, Kitten.”

Safe enough.

My towel hits the floor.

And there it is.

That sharp inhale. The way your body stills for just a second too long. The way your eyes widen—really widen—as it clicks.

That's right, Kitten. Three. Three hard, long, girthy cocks instead of one.

A quiet, satisfied chuckle rumbles low in my chest as I close the distance, close enough now that you can feel the heat of me, the steady rhythm of my breathing.

“Now you’re starting to understand.”

I lean in just enough for my voice to brush against your ear, warm, deliberate, dangerous.

“Why they gave me that name.”