#breast punch

[tiny-librarian]

When most people think of the Death of Cleopatra, they think of  something like the above pictures. Cleopatra lying on a couch, or standing there clutching a snake to her exposed breast. Or, as in some of the above cases, with the fabled serpent biting directly on to her nipple. She is almost always nude or nearly so, practically inviting everyone to gaze on her body as she lies there in her death throes. She is frequently delicately pulling her gown down to give the viewer a perfect view of her breasts. Often her equally unclothed handmaidens are falling over her in their own death throes, or gesturing dramatically to better showcase their nudity. There are also usually several other people portrayed there as well, staring down at the nude, or nearly so, Queen’s corpse.

It has been, and will likely continue to be, a popular theme in art to depict her that way. It used to be a titillating thing, an excuse to paint a beautiful nude/semi nude woman. She’s been immortalized as such in sculpture, paintings, wax figures, and everything in between.

This image of her though, is a myth. Pure and simple.

Stacy Schiff, the author of “Cleopatra: A Life” describes her death like so:

Cleopatra lay on a golden couch, probably an Egyptian-style bed with lion paws for legs and lion heads at its corners. Majestically and meticulously arrayed in “her most beautiful apparel,” she gripped in her hands the crook and flail. She was perfectly composed and completely dead, Iras very nearly so at her feet. Lurching and heavy-headed, almost unable to stand, Charmion was clumsily attempting to make right the diadem around Cleopatra’s forehead. Angrily one of Octavian’s men exploded: “A fine deed this, Charmion!” She had just the energy to offer a parting shot. With a tartness that would have made her mistress proud, she managed, ”It is indeed most fine, and befitting the descendant of so many kings,” before collapsing in a heap, at her queen’s side. Charmion’s was an epitaph no one could dispute. (Nor could it be improved upon. Shakespeare used it verbatim.)

Cleopatra went to her death as she’d lived her entire adult life, as the Queen of Egypt. She had her royal robes and ornaments on, and was thus fully dressed. She knew full well Octavian and his men were going to burst in on her, were going to find her and her ladies there dead. There is no chance she was going to be lying there undressed when a room-full of strange men were going to be looking at her. Cleopatra made sure she went first, so that her ladies could arrange her so nothing inappropriate would be seen. As far as we know, the only ones there at the time of her death were her and her two handmaidens, as they had barricaded themselves inside her mausoleum.

It’s likely all the nudity also stems from propaganda spread by Octavian both during her life and after her death, painting her as a whore and a seductress. Of course she would be naked she was the decadent Eastern Queen who seduced men with her witchcraft! It’s just one of the many, and increasingly ridiculous, misconceptions that’s been spread about her since her death and one that people should realize was certainly not true. The snake is now widely regarded by most scholars as a myth as well, since it’s far more likely she took some kind of poison to end her life instead.

[gontesblog]

TWINROVA

https://www.webtoons.com/en/canvas/twinrova/list?title_no=988966

[nakamorijuan]

水木一郎 - マジンガーZ Ichiro Mizuki - MAZINGER Z MAZINGER Z - Opening Theme

[mikesterreal]

Remade an older piece

[robotpanties]

old fiorejones drawings i used to be so mentally ill abt them

[tariah23]

alou. since there's not many people active on the topic lately it would be nice for someone else to share, what is your general opinion/take on ichi the killer (manga)?

Ichi the Killer was one of the first dark manga that really made me go “oh my god… this is kind of amazing-“ and at the point of reading it for the first time, I’d already been into gorey, psychological manga for a couple of years but hadn’t gotten around to reading it yet! I remember watching the movie immediately after reading it all those years ago but I felt like it was SUPER cheesy (still is. It doesn’t really capture the same urgency and chaotic nature of the manga at all but I can say that the film had really great wardrobe, especially with the fun colors they had Kakihara wearing. And they got a really handsome actor to play him since he’s kind of dusty in the manga but it doesn’t matter since he’s super cool 😭. His design is incredibly memorable for a guy who was only drawn wearing a generic black suit throughout the entire manga. I haven’t watched the movie in years though…) but the manga… I can say that it is definitely not for everyone.

SA being a major plot point in the story would turn most people off from it so I definitely get it. I read it back when I used to give literally everything a chance regardless of if it made me uncomfortable or not and because of this, I’ve kind of built up my stomach to be able to take a lot of these things. Some stuff, I just can’t though (stuff involving children mostly). But the manga was so fascinating to me! I enjoyed how both Ichi and Kakihara were each others foils. They’re whole thing was kind of one-sided though because of Kakihara’s perversions and his need to be hurt and hurt others. He must’ve felt like he was in heaven when he first layed his eyes on the MESS that Ichi left behind and found his uh, calling card, quite special.

The twist involving the buff ass young guy who looks like an old man still puts me on my ass still to this day 😭….. it really shattered the main theme of the story into a million pieces and flipped it on its head!? That was so….!!! I felt bad for the little boy who eventually became the guys next victim… that’s how the manga ended and I just… UGHHH. It was nice to see Ichi finally be free from his emotional shackles and learn to live normally after being groomed since high school and manipulated into killing other people all the way up till his adulthood. That was a lot…

I really loved the final showdown between Ichi and Kakihara as well!?? I like the part where Kakihara was coming to terms with the fact that he finds it thrilling to be running for his life and feeling real, genuine fear while at the same time, being in complete ecstasy like, he’s such a FREAKKKKK 😭! He was probably the most exciting character out of the entire story even though I didn’t mind Ichi as the MC. The story was so brutal and extremely tragic. I felt bad for most of the characters tbh, especially the women.

[crowyobroyo]

I like horror and gore and gross scary weird stuff but at the same time I can't even handle it anyway </3 would I let my partner drink my blood vampire style? absolutely. did I pass out when I pricked my finger and squeezed out a few drops? yes.

[gontesblog]

Bongella Von Helle from "FINAL CATALYST" Read its prequel, "TWINROVA" on webtoons below. https://www.webtoons.com/en/canvas/twinrova/list?title_no=988966&webtoon-platform-redirect=true

[goxjo]

⟢ ┈ The first time you stay over at your boyfriend’s place, Satoru does that thing where he likes to play around ‘n tease you by wearing your clothes. 18+ only, MDNI

Fresh out of the shower, you try to scour his room for your skirt and tank top but they’re nowhere to be found. You overhear him and his best friend, Suguru, laughing from outside the room, very obviously up to no good. You decide to put on the next best thing.

You find Satoru who’s somehow managed to put on your unzipped skirt around his slutty waist and Suguru who’s still struggling to put on your tank. The pair of laughter is put on a full-stop once you show up to the living room in nothing but Satoru’s boxers on, using one arm to cover your breasts.

The disbelief in Satoru’s face is unmistakable. You struggle to cover both breasts with one arm as you extend an open palm to Suguru, whose jaw has seemed to have lost its bolts. “I’ll take that. Thank you very much.”

“No, thank you.” Suguru slowly nods in approval, eyes glued to your lower half, watching how his best friend’s boxers ride up your ass in a wedgie as you walk away with your tank top in tow. “Hey!” Suguru soothes the offended part of his arm after earning a punch from Satoru.

“That’s my girlfriend!”

[tojipie]

asshole toji who says he’s too big for condoms <3

“i swear it’s still in here,” you huff, leaning halfway off the bed to rummage through your nightstand for the box of rubbers you bought on a whim last month. 

warm, thick hands rub up and down your naked torso, sliding up to play with your breasts from where you sit straddling his lap. you can barely see in front of you with how strong the need in your core burns.

a quick search through another drawer blesses you with your prize, the blue box just out of view underneath a ball of old reciepts.

“here, quick,” you sigh, handing him the item before clambering off the bed to shuck the rest of your clothes off. it had been a long time since you'd hooked up with someone, embarrassing as that was. sex had been the one and only thing on your mind from the moment you’d met this man at the bar. 

the near-stranger shakes his head fondly, turning the box of rubbers over a couple times like some sort of alien artifact.

“i only wear XLs, sugar,” he laughs, tossing back the pathetic box of rubbers. the exasperation in his voice feels like a punch to the chest. like he simply can’t believe you’d ever assume he would fit into anything less than the largest size. 

you disregard the thought, attention snapping back to toji slyly palming himself against your bedframe. scar stretched wide around smiling lips.

“you gonna come over here?”

you’re humiliated at how fast you scurry back into his lap.

˚ ✧ ─────

you almost don’t believe him until he unravels the latex onto his length, seeing it fall about 3 inches short of the base. 

okay.. wow. so he was too big.

toji lazily toys with himself atop your sheets. long, hard, and flushed red from base to tip. 

he’s nearly bursting out of the thin material, stretching it so tight and so thin that the milky latex almost looks like it’s melting into his skin.

the older man shucks the rubber off with a chuckle that says “i told you so.” he pulls you closer to him by the small of your back, fist reaching down to pump his newly freed length.

“i’ll pull out, you think i won’t?” he promises, voice barely a whisper. you don’t have to take in the smirk gracing the corner of his mouth to know he’s lying.

[hearts4hughes]

thinking about…

rafe cameron buying you a fancy diamond necklace with an R emblem dangling from it. you’re so happy as he clasps the chain around your neck. it looks perfect as it balanced right above your breasts.

rafe cameron who also only bought you that expensive jewlery so everyone would know who you belong to. when a guy tried to look at your cleavage in a low top, he would also notice the letter dangling from your neck. now, if someone flirted with you, he had an excuse to beat them shitless. “no. see, i don’t think you didn’t know because you saw the necklace she was wearing.” he tisked and unleashed yet another punch, knocking the pathetic boy out cold.

rafe cameron who gets hard even seeing the gold chain around your neck. he’ll notice it dangling around over your perky tits and will shuffle in his seat, adjusting his pants. he makes you ride him, the chain dangling in his face as you bounce up and down on him. he groans, taking the chain between his teeth before releasing his load up into you.

[rafesangelita]

Omg, idea! It can be with Pouge!Sweetheart and Rafe are having sex, and he is choking her (she likes it) but this time she is about to pass out and Rafe is too primal/into the sex to understand that she is trying to tap out and does not hear her. She passes out mid sex, going limp and Rafe absolutely panics trying to wake her up. A bit of a soft Rafe who then is overly attentive feeling so bad.

warnings: unprotected sex, rough sex, asphyxiation, choking, slight praise, dirty talk, loss of consciousness

a/n: poor pogue!sweetheart!reader omg. she’s been punched in the face on accident and now this?? I’m begging y’all to give her a break!

“rafe!” you practically screamed, your hands wrapping around the wrist he had at the column of your throat. while rafe had never been this rough before, he was hesitant as you begged him not to go soft on you. now you found yourself nothing but a whimpering mess, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as he had you pinned to your bed by the back of your knees. “this is what you wanted? ‘wanted me to choke you while i use this pussy?” you took your bottom lip between your teeth, your head pounding as your vision grew fuzzy.

nodding weakly, rafe’s grip on your neck tightened, his head falling as your velvety walls squeezed around him in a way that made him lose his mind. “so fucking wet, all for me..” he pressed a kiss to your ankle, rolling his hips to meet your clit with each thrust. before you could decipher what was happening, you mumbled a ‘too much’, tapping on his hand as he groaned, leaning down to bury his head in the valley of your breasts. you gasped before black spots began dotting your vision, your eyes fluttering closed as you lost consciousness.

“fuck, these tits are so fucking perfect.” he took a sensitive bud in his mouth, his gaze flickering at your face only to see your head lolled to the side, your lips glossy and swollen. “baby?” it was just then that he realized your entire body was limp, his thrusts slowing down. “y/n?” he grabbed your face, tapping your cheek lightly. panic set in at your lack of response, his eyes widening as he removed his hand from your neck. “oh, fuck!” he pulled out, rushing to pull his boxers on before he scooped you up in his arms.

he continued to lightly slap your cheek, blowing air on your face as he shook you. “come on, baby, you gotta wake up..” his heart was pounding out of his chest as you didn’t budge, his eyebrows drawing together as he got up, running to the small kitchen where he got a damp towel. dabbing your face with the cool cloth, he shook with every second you didn’t stir awake. “fuck!” he whispered, swallowing thickly as regret settled in the pit of his stomach. he knew he shouldn’t have done that much.

rafe kept up his ministrations for a few more minutes before he shook his head, his fists meeting his cheeks before he dialed 911. “911 what’s your emergency?” rafe let out a shaky breath, muttering a ‘uh, m-me and my girlfriend were-’ right before you opened your eyes, blinking up at the ceiling as you moaned. “ray?” you were more confused than anything, your boyfriend hanging up on the operator before he ran to your side. “oh my god.” he sighed, moving your hair off of your shoulder as he covered you with your duvet.

“i was tapping out..” your eyes sparkled up at rafe. he was on the verge of tears, shaking his head as he embraced you. “i didn’t hear you, baby. i’m so fucking sorry.” he pecked your lips, stroking your face as you ran a hand up and down his arm to soothe him. “i don’t know what happened, i was just really into it, i didn’t realize how hard i was squeezing you. i’m so sorry.” he apologized again. coughing softly, you sat up, pulling him onto the bed so he could hold you. “just hold me.” you kissed his cheek, both of you falling asleep shortly after.

the next day, rafe made it his life’s mission to make everything up to you. surprising you with your favorite breakfast, bathing you and putting you in some comfortable clothes, massaging your feet, eating you out until you cried, ordering your carts on all your shopping apps, and showering you with kisses until the sun went down.

[chiscaralight]

don't fuck your enemy!

synopsis: you just so happened to end up drunk with your enemy in the club bathroom. what would be more fuck than punching him in the face? fucking him!

includes: nsfw! scara x reader public sex ish. slight degradation. unprotected bathroom sex, p in v sex, mentions of oral sex, reader is under the influence but its all consensual. slight car sex, little bit of regret. this feels new to me, but I absolutely loved writing it! based off a request that I will link here

“scaraaa…”

“quit whining.”

you’re wiggling your hips to him, as he struggles to get his belt off.

“you’re obnoxious. is this how you treat everyone you say you hate? slut.”

“and you’re the one feeding into it. just shut up and-“

the moan you let out is drowned in the music. it’s not loud enough to draw attention, but if anyone else is in the bathroom, they’d definitely hear it. it’s not your fault you’re in this position, after a couple of rounds of shots, this stupid, sexy man wouldn’t stop staring at you in what he says is ‘disgust’. hard to believe when he wasted no time in following through with your advances, pressing you against the stall wall and crashing his lips onto yours.

but yes, you’re a slut for letting him push his cock past your lips, keeping your eyes trained on him as he groaned about how good that felt when you weren’t spewing bullshit, or you nuzzling your head into his hand as he tangles his fingers in your well-done hair.

but no, he’s not a fucking whore for dragging you off the ground and for bunching your short dress up at your hips. nor is he one for pressing his lips against your skin, marking up and down your neck as his fingers glide over your clothed hole before pulling your panties into the side.

you won’t let it get to you now though, because the mixture of the alcohol making your mind spin, with the way the heat from his fingers is dancing around your body, tracing obscure shapes into the fat of your hips before sliding up to cup your breasts is enough to keep any other words out of your mouth, save for his name.

it’s almost insane how good he is because he’s rocking just enough to hit you with enough force, but not enough to shake the plastic frame of the makeshift wall. your hands are finding his wrists, trying to ground yourself to something, anything while he fucks your senses away in the bathroom of some upscale nightclub, trying to ground himself from how good you feel. this has to be wrong on so many levels, fucking you, after everything you’ve said, he’s said, you’ve done, he’s done?

that seems to be the least of your worries now because he can see your eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth as he slides a finger into the heat of your mouth. your reactions to his touch are quick, the way you jerk into his hand, or close your lips around his fingers like it was nothing. like it’s what you were made to do. his wet digits now slide back down towards your swollen clit, applying a certain pressure that has you crying out his name with that grating, gorgeous voice of yours. he doesn’t even have it in him to silence you, he’s twitching at the way it rolls off your tongue. fuck, if he knew you’d be this perfect, he would have cut the bullshit and bent you over long ago! but maybe it was more rewarding like this, fleeting memories of all the times he’s pumped his cock to the thought of your face moving through his mind, as your lewd expression brings him back to you.

he’s craning his head the slightest bit to catch your eye. when he does, you smile. and he could cum right then and there from the way your eyes crinkle at the corners through the flush of your cheeks. you mouth out a silent ‘kiss’, and he’s on you in an instant, tongue sliding against yours as the bitter taste of the alcohol finds its way toward him. but he doesn’t care about that. he’s more concerned about the way you’re starting to writhe and shake against him, becoming more and more unsettled with the lack of your own movement. so you do your best to stop him, pushing him off of you as you finally get to breathe. your words come out with a sweet giggle, finger pressing against his chest as your drunken state blurs your vision the slightest amount.

“wanna ride you, pretty boy.”

if anyone who didn’t know the two of you were to for some reason swing this door open now, they’d think the two of you were insatiable lovers who just couldn’t wait to make it home. to anyone that doesn’t know you, they’d probably have to wipe their eyes twice to pretend they weren’t seeing you bounce on scaramouche’s cock like this. he’s seated on the closed toilet lid, absolutely dazed as you ride him to bits. your nails are digging into his shoulders hard, giving you strong balance as you move with a determination even he can’t fathom. but you’ve been dreaming of this, finally getting him to shut up with that pussy or yours, it’s a shame you didn’t get to shove his face in it; but maybe it’s for the best. even in this mindset you know tomorrow is going to be full of headaches and a lot of unanswered questions, so why not enjoy the now? keep anything from getting too far. what exactly is too far you ask? you’re not sure either, because licking into each other's mouths while he fucks up into you would be seen as pretty far for some people.

and he breaks away first, lazy eyes searching yours as he mumbles about his coming orgasm. you’re smiling that stupid smile that makes his dick twitch again, and giving him a polite nod. his eyebrows furrow.

“inside? you sure?”

you’re rolling your eyes at the obscurity of it all. he can ‘discretely’ slide your expensive lace panties into his pocket, press you up against this gross wall, and even fuck you presumably drunk. but cumming inside you is weird.

“yes-yes! i’m sure. just-just hurry up,”

and he’s smacking his teeth at the tone of your voice, hand coming down strong on the swell of your ass while he starts to chase his orgasm. your breaths are shallow, deep with intent as you grind against him, brushing up close to him so you can release in tandem with him.

it works a little too well, because you’re spasming against him in a way that he’s never seen before. your orgasm, plus the feeling of his cum starting to paint your inside white hot with thick spurts is peeling away any reservations you had about this whole situation before, moans loud and cracking as you ride it out for the two of you. his head is hung back, adam’s apple bobbing only a slight bit as he comes to, the soft bite you give it making him snap his head back down before he pinches your thigh. you pout, but begin to get up nonetheless, because you’ve probably spent way too long in here already.

you're much more sober now, trying to ignore the daggers that scaramouche is glaring into your back as you adjust your outfit in the mirror.

"was the sex really that bad?"

the statement is supposed to sound snarky, but it comes out more desperate than anything. you clear your throat, focusing your attention on the paint on the floor instead, dreadfully anticipating how he will bite back this time. but he doesn't. instead, you're greeted with the plush of his lips against yours, hands finding a home on your hips omce again as you grip at his collar. you're moaning into his mouth once more, attempting to slide your tongue against his.

but he pulls away before you can, beelining for the exit door instead. your lips are in a hard pout. as you hear him mumble something about needing to go home. you also happen to catch the part where he more clearly states the exact parking space his car is in right now before letting the door swing shut.

you're alone with your thoughts now. your mind is much clearer, and you're visibly torn between doing the right thing, that is, going back to your friends and enjoying the party like you should've been, or going down and potentially making the same albeit lovely, very rewarding mistake twice. the way the 'fuck it' rolls off your tongue now is a secure answer to what you decide to do, quickly making your way towards where you hope your friends are before announcing that you'll be on your way.

it's been minutes, seven exactly, scaramouche is counting. he shouldn't be here, he should've left immediately he stuck the key in the ignition. but he's waiting rather impatiently, in hopes that you'd find your way down. he knows you're not stupid, he knows you would regret it, hell, he should be regretting it too. but that annoying little feeling in his heart won't let him pull out of the space just yet. and thank archons for that, because he can see the pattern of your dress outside his tinted window as you tap on the glass.

the silence once you get in is stupidly uncomfortable. the air is thick with tension, both of you avoiding each other's gazes as the impact of your previous actions weighs in the air. scaramouche takes the initiative to speak first.

"we should-"

"your windows are tinted. can you eat me out?"

he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"you're absolutely insufferable."

"l-less talking, please."

he'll roll his eyes, but dip his head back down between your legs all the same. you're sprawled out in his back seat, fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue assaults your folds. maybe the first kiss was a mistake, maybe him fucking you against the wall was a big mistake. but his fingers sliding into you now? curling just exactly where they should be? there's no mistake here.

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ BLACKOUT. featuring tartaglia.

↻ the 11th of the fatui harbingers has some... questionable kinks.

tags : asphyxiation, choking, dry humping, sparring kink, hate sex, light dirty talk, death threats, semi-public sex, light spanking, clit slapping, squirting, creampie, loss of consciousness // wc. 1k

author's note : another late one.. don't worry, the next one is all lined up n ready in my drafts !! this is most likely the freakiest one yet bc why does tartaglia have a sparring kink... also this is the heaviest one yet too so please mind sharp of the tags !! someone passes out in this one so be warned. i know you alr know the drill, notes n reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated here but can i remind u not to spam (esp w/o a follow) because that can decrease my reach and my stuff won't show up anymore :( i love you all, thank you for 400 followers and see you in the next one!

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

“mmm, fuuuck, you’re a feisty one, aren’tcha, doll?”

you didn’t know what you were signing up for when you decided to spar with the 11th of the fatui harbingers. in fact, you were more forced to spar with him than of your own volition. he thought you were pretty, and he thought you would look even prettier pinned underneath him, panting and begging within an inch of your life. 

what ajax didn’t expect, however, was to be flipped on his back with you straddling atop him, hands closed tightly around his neck. he also didn’t expect that it would feel so good.

blood drips from your forehead and your lip is swollen from one to many punches to the face, but fuck you look so beautiful. “you gonna kill me or what?”

“shut up,” you grunt, squeezing harder. “shut up, shut up, shut up.”

you’re driving him damn near insane. you look angry and feral, and it’s a look that only the most determined of warriors wear during battle. 

as of right now, you’re determined to kill him, or at least make him give up. the thing is, you’ve clearly underestimated the man who calls himself the 11th fatui harbinger. 

“are you… hard?” something big and firm protrudes through his trousers, and he looks up at you, lips cracking into a smile. 

“right on the money, angel.” his hips thrust upwards once, his mind growing hazy at the buzz of adrenaline flowing through his veins. “you gonna squeeze tighter? i’m quite liking this.”

you scowl at him. “you’re disgusting, tartaglia.”

“it’s ajax, baby,” he manages to say through his lack-of-oxygen induced haze. “you gonna call me that while you’re chokin’ me out?”

god, you hate him. god, god god, you want him dead, but you can’t suppress the feeling of victory washing over you. you managed to make a harbinger hard, and all you had to do was threaten to kill him. “why would i give you that pleasure?”

“you seem to be happy enough sittin’ on my dick and trying to kill me, baby, the least you could do is call me by my real name, no?” he has no bargaining chips here, especially since you might actually kill him cold turkey. “move your hips for me.”

“you’re in no position to be making orders.”

“and you’re in a good enough position to get grinding.” when you swivel your hips in the slightest, his hands twitch, trying his hardest not to grip your ass under your skirt desperately. who even wears a skirt to a fight? “hurry it up. i’m starting to get bored.”

this guy. he’s so fucking annoying, but you can’t help but clench around nothing at the way he looks up at you, eyes hooded and lip quirked up in a smirk as he tries to move his hips to no avail, and suddenly, you’re left with two options;

option one: get the fuck off of him and run as far as humanely possible in the hopes that he won’t catch up to you. 

option two: fuck him, and fuck him. 

it’s a good thing that in situations like these, you like to think primarily with your pussy and not your head.

“ajax!”

“that’s it angel, fuck, you’re doin’ such a good job.”

your skirt is abandoned somewhere in the sparring ring and your breasts spill out of your shirt as you bounce in his lap, eyes squeezed shut and hands latched around his neck, nails digging into its supple flesh. 

oh, he’s liking this. you swear he grows two times bigger every time you squeeze on his neck, and your eyes roll into the back of your head as his tip bumps your cervix. this is the deepest position possible, and he’s hitting you just right, despite being delirious from the lack of oxygen flowing to his brain from your hands around his neck. 

when you decided to fuck him, he gave you one order and one order only; hold on tight. and damn did he give you the ride of your life, because you’re twitching atop him, hands attaching and detaching from his neck as you struggle to keep your consciousness afloat. 

whilst your hands stay wound around his bruised neck, his hands are seemingly everywhere. one moment he’s squeezing your tits through your torn shirt and the next he’s spanking your ass, warning you that he’s going to speed up and that you need to hold on tighter unless you want to fall off. 

“ ‘m close-!” you warn him of your impending orgasm, hands trembling around his neck as he starts to deepen his thrusts. you can barely focus on the look of his face, but the bastard is smiling, his own eyes starting to flutter shut as he starts to see dark spots clouding his vision. ajax is about to pass out, but he doesn’t even deserve such a luxury without feeling you cum all over his cock. 

with what little strength he has left in his arms, he slides his hand from your ass to your clit and gives it tight little slaps, eyes urging you to cum as his mouth drops open in ecstasy. this feeling, having you not only squeeze his throat but his cock too, has him delirious, and he totally thinks he could become completely addicted. 

“cum f’me, angel. come on, c’mon, i wanna fucking feel it, baby…” he uses the last of the oxygen in his lungs to give you one final command, and as ajax blacks out, he feels you squirt on it, plastering your juices all over the floor of the sparring ring before collapsing on top of him. 

in his newly (and partially short lived) vegetative state, his cock pumps you full, his seed leaking out of the creases in your cunt. it takes a couple of seconds for you to come to, and when you do, you’re faced with a sprawled out ajax on the floor, eyes just closed and lips parted gently. 

you panic momentarily because you think you’ve actually killed him, until you see those damn lips of his stretch into a smile. “thank you doll.”

you’re definitely not sparring with this freak again.

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