Rhapsodic Spice Level Novels & Stories

“Please don't slow down. Fuck me hard.” He obliged, hips slamming against mine with enough force to rock the desk. “That's it,” Mr. Sinclair urged. “Don't let that arse go.” My lips moved out of their own accord, moaning helplessly as I shut my eyes, the pleasure frying my brain cells. A fierce rush of heat flooded through my system, my pulse thundering through every inch of me. The room was thick with the scent of sex and stale sweat, and I almost shattered to the sounds of my pussy squelching shamelessly as his wet cock rammed into my dripping coochie.

He tasted of smoke, weed, and coke. And the way his hungry, ravaging mouth sought the contours of my mouth had me clinging to him. The more I tried to pull free from the kiss - the more his ravaging mouth punished me for such betrayal. My head was slowly spinning - like I was gradually on something high. I knew the implications of being kissed by a heavy weed taker. Yet, his tongue would forcefully plunge into my mouth curling and sucking what was left of me.

I replied softly. Spike grinned, his fangs peeking out slightly as he leaned in closer to me. "Good girl," he murmured before popping one of the pills into his mouth and slipping the other into mine. Taking a sip of my drink, the pill slid down my throat. Almost immediately, I felt a rush of euphoria wash over me. The music seemed to pulse through my veins, and the lights on the dance floor danced before my eyes. Spike took my hand once more and led me onto the dance floor, where we moved together in perfect sync. Our bodies rubbed against each other, my body feeling every touch like never before as the drug started to overtake me.

Standing there with his hair dripping water, Saffron’s mournful cries abruptly ceased. Saffron trailed her teary eyes to his dashing stoic face that sheltered two pairs of emotionless eyes and swallowed. Scenes from last mind eroded her mind all at once, causing her temple to throb with severe pain. No one knew if it was the lingering effect of the spiked drink or the fear of what Caspian might do to her. “F– First Young–“ “You must have eaten a leopard’s gut to be so courageous to dare to bring me a spiked soup,” he said while making his way towards her.

I just smiled, slow and lazy, tasting copper where my lip split. Then I walked past her like she was furniture, picked up the half full glass of red I’d already doctored on the nightstand, three crushed capsules of the strongest aphrodisiac I could buy on the dark web, colorless, tasteless, hits in under eight minutes and turns you into a creature that needs to fuck more than it needs oxygen. You'll crave sex more than anything else. I turned back to her, glass in hand. She was breathing fire, fists clenched, ready to swing again.

I said, nervousness coloring my voice. "Give it a few more seconds," he said enigmatically. Then suddenly, I felt the world spin—like I was standing by a carousel, and everything around me blurred. "There she is," he laughed maniacally. "What's happening?" I asked, clutching my head as I felt my body slowly weakening, limp and powerless. "It's the drug, my little pumpkin. Red-Hot Retro isn't just about champagne and celebration liquors—it’s got a little kick of coke, but the rest is something spicier than just being high."

The first sip burned, tangy and sweet all at once. “Ugh,” I said, grimacing. “How do people pretend this tastes good?” “It’s an acquired taste,” she said, trying not to laugh as she coughed after her own sip. “Apparently, we’re not sophisticated enough.” Ten minutes later, we were giggling like idiots. Aisha’s playlist hummed softly from my mini speaker — soft pop, all nostalgic choruses and dreamy beats. “Okay,” she said suddenly, grabbing a comb. “Sit.” “What?”

Seung-ho stumbled over his words, then quickly moved away from Min-a like he was an appealing drug. His jaw clenched hard and he could feel his erection as he walked to his shelf for the various bags of chips he bought recently. Seung-ho took a moment to suppress his arousal then grabbed five of the bags. He dropped them on his counter, causing various cackling sounds, “oh-we have, ginger pepper.” He didn't care for the product name, it was a stock purchase. Picking up a bluish bag, he read off the body, “we have seafood spice,”

His lips didn’t pucker, no flinching, no sweating—none of the usual human reactions to extreme spiciness. “Is he… a robot?” Jeslyn muttered under her breath. “Mmm,” Leonel hummed with a nod. “Interesting. There's a spicy kick to it. New experiment?” Jeslyn’s eyes widened. What?! He likes it?! “Uh… yeah,” she answered quickly, almost reflexively. “It’s… a new variant. Hellfire Lava Dessert.” Leonel smirked. “Nice name. Fits a woman like you.” “A woman like me?” Jeslyn raised a brow.

Elira perceived and tasted several spices ever since her trance—tumeric, cloves, cinnamon, rosemary, paprika and many more commonly used but none of them guided her memory to homeland. Nireya, on the other hand was running out of spices to think of. “My dear, I can't think of any more spice.” Nireya pleaded with her, trying to get Elira’s mind off her spice-seeking quest. “You will have another trance and we can try another direction.”