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thighsa · 4 months ago

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BEAUTIFUL MONSTER

Artist :

STAYC Isa X Male Reader (Third Person POV)

Tags :

Wardrobe Malfunction, Female Masturbation, Masochist Fetish, Kidnap, Forced Sex, Rough Sex, Rape, BDSM, Bondage, Virgin, Anal, Anal Virginity, Gangbang, Double Penetration, Blowjob, Deepthroat, Creampie, Gape, Sex Tape, Blackmail, Drug Usages, Slut, Cam Girl, Sex Slave, Prostitution, Strip Dancer, Golden Shower, Humiliation,

Warning : Non Con Smut, This smut is going to be a long one.

(please don't read if you don't like it, thanks!)

CHAPTER 1 : THE CONCERT OF A RAISING K-POP GROUP

Finding herself standing in the bustling backstage of a colossal concert venue, the air thick with anticipation and the sweet scent of hairspray. Lee Chaeyoung, or as the world knows, Isa, a rising star in the glittering universe of K-Pop as part of the sensational girl group, STAYC. With her heart racing in her chest, she look into the mirror and adjust the glittering hairpin in her raven locks, her reflection showcasing her flawless makeup and piercing gaze. Isa run her hands over her curvy hips and give her thick, toned thighs a squeeze, drawing confidence from the power they hold. The sound of the crowd's roar crescendos as the opening chords of her latest hit echo through the corridor. The stage calls, and she takes a deep breath, ready to captivate the world once more with her unparalleled charm and talent. "It's showtime, Isa," her manager says with a nod of encouragement. Isa flash a dazzling smile, feeling the excitement surge through her as she step into the spotlight.

The stage lights hit Isa like a meteor shower, illuminating her scintillating, revealing outfit. The ensemble is a masterpiece of modern fashion K-Pop flair: a crop top that barely contains her ample cleavage, paired with a thick leather jacket as the outerwear, and a skirt that hikes high on her hips, showcasing her voluptuous thighs and perfectly curvy rounded ass. Her long, silky legs seem to go on forever, ending in a pair of thigh-high boots that scream confidence with every step. The crowd goes wild at the sight of her, the sea of faces blurring into a tapestry of admiration and desire.

With the opening beats of the song pulsing through her veins, Isa takes control of the stage like a tempest, her body moving in a symphony of seduction and precision. She's the main dancer, the heart of StayC's choreography, and her every move is calculated to leave the audience breathless. Her hips sway and pop in time with the music, her curvy figure a mesmerizing spectacle under the strobing lights. Her bandmates follow her lead, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine, but it's Isa's fiery charisma that truly sets the stage alight.

The choreography intensifies, and Isa leaps into a high kick, her skirt fluttering up to reveal a hint of the lacey thong she's wearing underneath. The fans scream even louder, their phones raised in a forest of flashing lights, eagerly capturing every moment. Suddenly, as she lands, there's a sharp tug, and the unthinkable happens: the clasp of her top gives way, the fabric parting to expose her right breast to the thousands of eyes in the arena. For a split second, time seems to stand still, the music a distant echo in the face of the impending disaster.

But Isa is a seasoned performer. Without missing a beat, she cups her hand over her breast, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red that only serves to enhance her allure. The crowd's gasps are drowned out by the bass drop, and she spins away from the audience, using the momentum to conceal the wardrobe malfunction. The other members of StayC, caught off guard, exchange worried glances but Isa waves them off, signaling to continue as if nothing happened. Her professionalism is a beacon of calm in the storm of chaos, a testament to her unshakeable poise.

The moment Isa's breast is exposed, a ripple of shock waves through the arena, but it's quickly swallowed by a frenzy of excitement and anticipation. The flashes of cameras and phones are so intense that it's as if a thousand paparazzi have descended upon the stage. The video of her wardrobe malfunction is captured from every conceivable angle, the digital eyes of the audience eager to preserve the scandalous moment for posterity. The videos are uploaded to social media faster than you can blink, spreading like wildfire across various platforms, hashtags springing up like mushrooms in the aftermath of a storm.

While the performance goes on, the malfunction is a mere hiccup in the grand scheme of things. Isa's swift recovery and the sheer force of StayC's stage presence are enough to keep the audience enthralled. The music, the lights, the dance as they all conspire to distract from the brief flash of nudity. The other members of the group, though shaken by the unexpected turn of events, keep their cool, their movements sharp and their expressions composed.

As soon as Isa enters the backstage, the situation is a different story. The second the music stops, a cacophony of worried whispers and frantic gestures replace the organized chaos of pre-show preparations. The manager's eyes widen in horror as they watch the live feed of the performance, their hand slapped over their mouth in disbelief. "Oh no," they murmur, their mind racing with the potential repercussions. "Isa, are you okay?" they ask, rushing towards Isa.

Isa, though still flustered, nods with a forced smile. "It's fine," she says, trying to shrug off the embarrassment that clings to her like the sweat on her skin. "It was just a wardrobe malfunction. It happens." Her voice is steady, but the tremble in her hand as she adjusts her costume gives away her nerves. She quickly gathers her composure, drawing on the iron will that's brought her to the top of the K-Pop world. "We'll just have to make sure it doesn't happen again," she adds with a determined glint in her eye.

The concert ends with a thunderous applause, and as the final notes of the last song die out, Isa is ushered backstage, her heart racing not just from the exhilaration of the performance but also from the fear of what's to come. She quickly locks herself in the waiting room, the sound of the cheering fans a muffled roar behind the thick door. Pulling out her phone, her hands shaking with a mix of excitement and mortification, she opens up various social media apps, her fingers flying across the screen as she searches for any sign of the wardrobe malfunction. It doesn't take long for her to find it a video of her exposed breast has already amassed millions of views and countless comments, both supportive and malicious.

Her heart sinks as she reads through the comments. While there are fans praising her professionalism and others sharing their own stories of similar mishaps, there's also a sea of cruel words, body-shaming, and accusations of it being a publicity stunt. The weight of the negative attention is crushing, a stark reminder of the darker side of the industry she's worked so hard to conquer. She tries to push the negativity aside, focusing instead on the love and support from her devoted fanbase. Yet, the fear of losing everything she's worked for gnaws at her like a ravenous beast.

As she was scrolling at the comments, an advertisement popped up in her phone, Isa's hand trembles with anticipation as she opens the screen fills with a smorgasbord of explicit thumbnails, each one more graphic and enticing than the last. She bites her bottom lip, her pulse racing as she selects a video that promises the depraved thrills.

With the door locked tight and the cacophony of the concert now a distant memory, her hand shakes as she sets it aside, her eyes glazed with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She's never truly allowed herself to explore this side of her sexuality, but something about the raw, unbridled passion within its pages has her craving release. Her hand slides down her torso, her fingertips grazing the smooth skin of her stomach before delving beneath her skirt. The fabric of her thong is damp with anticipation, the fabric clinging to her plump pussy lips as she slides it aside. Her heart hammers in her chest as she touches herself, her virginity a mere technicality in the face of her burning need.

The video starts with a petite Asian girl, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement, surrounded by a group of well-endowed black men. They're all grinning like predators, and Isa can feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she watches. She watches, rapt, as the men in the video begin to touch and kiss the girl, her cries of pleasure growing louder with every passing second. The scene is a whirlwind of flesh and desire, a symphony of lust that resonates deep within Isa's core.

Her clit is swollen and sensitive, begging for attention. With a gasp, she rubs it furiously, her other hand squeezing her full breast, the nipple pebbled with arousal. She's seen the way the men in the videos looked at the bound women, the hunger in their eyes, and she craves that same intense focus. Her imagination runs wild, her hand moving faster as she imagines herself in the girl's place, her thick thighs spread wide and her plump ass jiggling with every rough thrust. The walls of the waiting room seem to close in around her, the pressure building with every stroke. The room is filled with the sweet sound of her moans, each one louder and more desperate than the last.

Her breathing quickens, her chest heaving as she watches the men take turns with the girl, her small frame seemingly incapable of containing the sheer size of their cocks. The sight of it all is almost too much, and yet she can't tear her eyes away. Her own hand is a blur between her legs now, her fingers working her clit with a fervor that borders on desperation. The tension builds, a crescendo of pleasure that threatens to shatter her very soul.

Isa's orgasm hits her like a meteor, her entire body convulsing with the force of it. Her pussy clenches around her fingers, her juices spraying out in a fountain that soaks her hand and the floor beneath her. The pleasure is so intense, so overwhelming, that for a brief moment, she forgets where she is, lost in a world of pure ecstasy. The image of the gangbang in the porn video blurs with her own reflection in the mirror, the line between fantasy and reality growing thinner by the second. Her eyes squeeze shut, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she rides the wave of her climax, her moans echoing through the empty waiting room.

When she finally opens her eyes, the aftermath of her solo performance is stark: her hand is sticky with her own fluids, her chest heaving, and her cheeks flushed. The video on her phone is still playing, but the sound has been muted by the roar of the blood in her ears. She pulls her hand away, her pussy quivering, and looks down at the mess she's made. There's a twinge of guilt, a whisper of doubt that flits through her mind, but it's quickly drowned out by the lingering aftershocks of pleasure.

The echoes of Isa's powerful orgasm still resonate through the air as she slowly comes to terms with the reality of what just happened. Her heart thunders in her chest, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The sticky warmth of her cum is a stark reminder of the unbridled passion that had just consumed her, leaving her trembling and slightly embarrassed at the wet spot on the floor. The mirror reflects an image of a girl who's just crossed an unspoken line, her eyes glazed over with a mix of satisfaction and curiosity about the dark desires that now lay bare before her.

As she takes a deep breath and attempts to compose herself, the harshness of the fluorescent lights seems to cast a judgmental glare on her naked form. The glitz and glamour of the stage have been stripped away, revealing the vulnerable young woman beneath the K-Pop images. She quickly cleans up the evidence of her masturbation, feeling a strange mix of excitement and fear. What if someone finds out about her newfound kink? Would it ruin her image? Would it change how her fans see her?

The thought sends a shiver down her spine, but it's quickly replaced by a fiery determination. This is her private time, her own little secret, and she won't let it define her public persona. She tucks the magazine back into its hiding spot, her eyes lingering on the cover for a moment longer before she turns away. The concert is over, the fans are dispersing, and she's still a star. The malfunction was a blip on the radar, something to be handled with grace and professionalism.

CHAPTER 2 : THE THUGS AND THE KIDNAP

The night air is cool against Isa's flushed skin as she slips out of the venue, hoping to avoid the usual post-concert fanfare. She chooses a shortcut through a dimly lit alley, eager to be alone with her thoughts and the aftermath of her public exposure. But the shadows hold more than just her secrets. As she walks, the echo of her boots against the concrete is soon accompanied by the jeering laughter and heavy footsteps of a group of thugs. They've recognized her from the viral video, their leering smiles growing wider as they approach.

"Well, well, well," the leader says, his voice slithering through the alley like a serpent's hiss. "If it isn't the little show-off from the concert. Did you do that for us, sweetheart?" His eyes rake over her body, a blatant hunger that sends a chill down her spine. The other men close in, their intentions as clear as the moon in the sky above.

Isa's heart races as she tries to keep a brave face. "Excuse me, I'm in a hurry," she says, her voice wavering slightly. She tries to step around them, but they block her path, their bodies a wall of malicious intent.

"Oh, we'll make sure you're not late for your next appointment," the leader sneers, reaching out to grab her arm. His grip is like iron, his nails digging into her soft flesh. "We're your biggest fans, you know. We just want to show you some... appreciation." The men chuckle in unison, their eyes glinting with a predatory gleam.

Isa's mind races as she tries to pull away, her heart hammering against her ribcage. "Please, let me go," she pleads, her voice a whisper of the confident performer she was mere hours ago. But the thugs are relentless, closing in tighter, their hands grabbing at her exposed skin with a hunger that makes her stomach churn.

The leader leans in, his breath hot and sour against her neck. "You liked showing us your goods earlier, didn't you?" he growls, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Now it's our turn to play." His hand moves to her crop top, fumbling with the clasp as the others grab at her skirt.

Isa's body tenses as the thug's rough hand clamps down on her right nipple, his grip tight and painful. He gives it a twist, a sadistic smile playing across his lips as he watches her face contort in a mix of pain and humiliation. Her eyes water, and she tries to stifle a scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurts. The fabric of her crop top tears under their greedy hands, the remnants of her dignity shredded along with it. Her bare chest is exposed to the cool night air, her breasts jiggling slightly as the men lean in to get a closer look. The pain from her nipple is a sharp reminder of the danger she's in, sending a jolt of adrenaline through her veins.

One of the thugs, emboldened by his leader's actions, reaches out to cup her left breast, his palm greedily squeezing the soft flesh. "Guys, look at these tits," he says, licking his lips. "I bet you've had these out more often than you've had your panties on, huh?" His leer is almost comical in its depravity, but the fear gripping Isa's heart is anything but amusing. She tries to kick him away, but her legs are trapped in the tangle of her skirt, which is now around her ankles.

The thug's hand snakes down Isa's torso, his thick, calloused fingers digging into her soft flesh as they make their way to her thighs. He squeezes them with a groan of appreciation, the other men following his lead. They all seem to have the same idea, their grubby hands reaching out to grope and fondle her thick, muscular thighs and plump ass. Isa's breath hitches in her throat as she feels the unmistakable bulges in their pants pressing against her, their excitement palpable in the tense air of the alley.

"Let go of me, you animals!" she shouts, trying to struggle free, but their grip is too strong. They laugh, their breaths hot and heavy, as they continue to maul her. The leader's hand slides up her skirt, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of her thong. "Looks like someone enjoyed their little show," he sneers, his fingers probing further, pushing the fabric aside to reveal her glistening pussy. "You're a wet little slut, aren't you?"

Isa's body is a flurry of panic as the thugs overpower her, their rough hands tearing at her clothing and pinning her down. They're like a pack of hyenas, each fighting for a piece of their prey. Her legs kick and thrash, but it's no use; she's outnumbered and outmatched. One of the men pulls out a roll of duct tape, ripping off a piece with a grin that could only be described as sadistic. He slaps it over her mouth, silencing her protests and muffling her screams into desperate whimpers. The taste of the tape is bitter and metallic, and the smell fills her nostrils as she struggles to breathe.

Within minutes, they've managed to tie her wrists behind her back and her ankles together, hoisting her into the back of a waiting van. The doors slam shut, plunging her into darkness. The van lurches forward, and Isa's stomach drops as she's thrown around on the cold, hard floor. She can't help but wonder if this is the end, if she'll ever make it out of here to see her bandmates again. The thought of her friends, her music, her fans, it all fuels a burning anger within her, giving her the strength to keep fighting, even if it's just in her own mind.

The van ride seems to last an eternity, but it eventually comes to a jarring stop. The doors open, and Isa is dragged out by her arms, her feet barely touching the ground as the thugs pull her along. They've brought her to an abandoned house, the smell of decay and dampness fills her nostrils as she's tossed into a musty, dimly lit room. The duct tape is ripped from her mouth, and she gasps for air, the sting of pain from her bruised skin making her eyes water.

The leader of the thugs grabs a fistful of Isa's hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck. "On your knees," he commands, his voice a low growl. Isa's legs wobble, but she complies, her heart pounding in her chest. He shoves her down onto a filthy rag that covers the floor, the grime and dust of ages sticking to her skin as she lands with a whimper. The fabric is rough against her knees, the sensation only adding to her growing sense of dread and disgust.

The thugs are like hungry beasts before a feast as they strip Isa of her remaining clothing. They tear away her crop top and skirt, leaving her in nothing but her drenched thong. The fabric clings to her body, revealing the full extent of her plump, glistening ass and her thick, toned thighs. The leader rips the thong away, tossing it aside with a grunt. Isa's nakedness is laid bare, her curves and the dark patch of hair between her legs on full display for their depraved eyes. She tries to cover herself, but her bound wrists are useless, and she's pushed back down onto the rag. The coldness of the floor seeps into her, a stark contrast to the heat of the lust in the room.

"Look at her, begging for it," one of the men leers, his eyes glazed over with desire.

The leader of the thugs unzips his pants with a dramatic flourish, revealing a cock that's both terrifying and awe-inspiring in its size. It's thick and long, the veins pulsing with anticipation as it stands proudly against his muscular thigh. The other men follow suit, their cocks of varying sizes but all equally hungry for her. The room is filled with the sound of zippers and the rustle of fabric as they expose themselves, their erections bobbing in the dim light. Isa's eyes widen in horror, unable to look away from the display of male aggression and lust.

The thug's cock slams into Isa with a brutal force that steals the breath from her lungs. She screams into the gag, her eyes watering as she tries to comprehend the pain and violation. Her tight, untouched pussy stretches to accommodate his massive girth, the sensation a blend of agony and unwelcome pleasure that sends shockwaves through her body. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he fucks her without mercy, his hips slamming into her thick ass, leaving bruises that will surely last for days. The other thugs form a ring around them, jerking themselves off to the sight of the K-Pop star's degradation, their eyes glinting with malice as they wait for their turn.

As the second thug positions himself beneath her, his cock pressing against her unprepared anus, Isa's eyes widen with terror. She's never even considered such an act before, and the thought of it fills her with a visceral fear that's only heightened by the brutality of the rape she's already enduring. He doesn't bother with lubrication or gentleness, simply pushing his way into her with the same violent enthusiasm as his comrades. Isa's screams are muffled by the gag as she's stretched to the limits, her body a battleground for their twisted desires.

The sensation of being double-penetrated is unlike anything Isa has ever experienced. The pain is unbearable, a fiery invasion that seems to rip her apart from the inside out. She tries to squirm away, but the weight of the man beneath her keeps her in place, his hands gripping her hips as he thrusts up into her. The thug behind her shows no mercy, his thick cock pummeling her pussy without pause. Her body is a symphony of pain, each movement sending a new wave of agony crashing through her.

Isa's cries for help echo through the abandoned house, her body contorting in pain as she's mercilessly used by the two thugs. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and her cheeks are stained with tears as she rides the edge of the agony they inflict upon her. Her thick, curvy body is a canvas of their brutality, each thrust into her ass and pussy a testament to their depraved hunger. The sound of her cries mingles with the sickening wet slaps of their bodies coming together, the squelching of her ravaged holes as they're stretched beyond their limits.

"Look at her, taking it like a champ," the man beneath her says, his voice thick with lust. He grabs her ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he fucks her harder, the head of his cock popping out of her asshole with every thrust before plunging back in. The other man, the one who had been watching, decides he can't wait any longer. He moves closer, stroking his cock in time with the rhythm of his friends' rape, his eyes never leaving Isa's tear-stained face.

The pain and degradation become too much for Isa, and her body finally gives out. Her vision swims, and she faints, her head lolling back as the thugs continue to pound into her, their grunts and the squelching of her ravaged holes the last things she hears before everything goes dark. Her muscles relax, no longer resisting the intrusion, and for a brief moment, she finds a small reprieve in unconsciousness.

But the thugs are not content to let her escape so easily. The leader notices her stillness and gives her a vicious slap across the face, bringing her back to the world of pain with a gasp. "Wake up, slut," he snarls, twisting her nipple to the point where she can feel it might snap off. "You're still far from done."

Isa's eyes fly open, the pain in her nipple a white-hot beacon of agony that cuts through the fog of her fading consciousness. The thug holding her by the hair yanks her upright, and she's forced to look at the man beneath her, his cock still buried in her ass, his face twisted in a grotesque mask of pleasure. "You like it rough, don't you?" he asks, his voice a sneer. "You're going to love what we have planned for you next."

The thug beneath Isa doesn't miss a beat, his hips continuing to piston upwards, his cock tearing into her ass without mercy. He's a man possessed, driven by his own twisted desires and the thrill of defiling a celebrity. The thug in front of her, his cock still buried deep in her pussy, starts to fuck her even harder, his movements punctuated by the cruel twists of her nipple. The pain is unbearable, but the fear of what they'll do if she doesn't stay conscious keeps her eyes open, her body tense.

"You're going to make a great little porn star," the leader says, holding up his phone to capture the scene. "Just think, your fans will get to see the real you." His words are like acid, burning into her soul as the thugs continue to ravage her body. Isa feels a strange mix of anger and humiliation, her mind racing as she tries to find a way out of this nightmare. But for now, she's trapped, a plaything for their sick games.

The third man steps closer, his cock bobbing with excitement. "My turn," he says, his voice guttural. He grabs her hair, yanking her head back so he can whisper in her ear. "You're going to suck me off, and you're going to love it." The taste of the duct tape is still in her mouth as he forces his cock between her lips, her gag muffling her gagging noises. He's not gentle, pushing his way into her throat until she chokes, her eyes watering and nose running with snot. The men laugh, the sound a symphony of cruelty that rings in her ears as she's used in ways she never imagined.

The camera's red light glares at her, a silent witness to her degradation. The thug filming zooms in on her face, capturing the tears streaming down her cheeks, the snot bubbling at her nose, the pain in her eyes. He moves it down to her gaping pussy and asshole, the juices of her rape mixing with the grime of the floor. "You're going to be famous, baby," he says, his voice a sadistic purr. "Everyone's going to see you like this." The thought of her fans watching this, of her family discovering her darkest secret, fills her with a despair so deep she thinks she might drown in it.

But Isa isn't one to go down without a fight. With a surge of strength she didn't know she had, she bucks her hips, trying to dislodge the cocks inside her. The men laugh, tightening their grips, but she doesn't stop. Her body is a whirlwind of pain and fear, but she refuses to let them have complete control over her. The thug filming moves closer, his cock pressing against her cheek. "Suck it," he says, his voice a demand. "You know you want too."

The thugs continue to abuse Isa's unconscious body, her muscles now limp and unresponsive. They take turns fucking her, their cocks sliding in and out of her gaping holes with ease. Her pussy and asshole are stretched to the maximum, the flesh around them raw and torn from their abuse. They laugh and jeer as they use her, their sadistic pleasure clear in every grunt and slap against her flesh. The one filming keeps a close watch, making sure to capture every moment of her degradation.

"Look at her, she's like a fucking ragdoll," one of the men says, pulling out of her pussy and smacking her cheek with his wet cock. "I bet she's never thought she will be fucked like this before." he added.

The thugs, sated by their depraved act, stand up, their cocks still dripping with Isa's blood and cum. They laugh among themselves, basking in the power they've exerted over her. The leader grabs a roll of rope from the corner of the room and approaches her limp form. They hoist her up, her body hanging lifelessly as they tie her wrists tightly to a metal bar that's bolted to the wall. The cold metal bites into her skin, leaving red welts that stand out starkly against her pale flesh. They bind her ankles as well, spreading her legs wide, her gaping holes still on display.

"Leave her like this," the leader says with a malicious smile. "It'll be a surprise when she wakes up."

The men chuckle as they pull on their clothes, their eyes lingering on Isa's bruised and bloodied body. They grab a few bottles of water from a dusty shelf, tossing them at her feet. "You're going to need these," one of them says, his voice filled with mock concern.

Isa slowly comes to, her head lolling to the side as she tries to make sense of her surroundings. The pain between her legs is a constant, pulsing throb, a stark reminder of the horror she's endured. She looks down at her bound wrists, the metal digging into her skin, and feels a wave of despair wash over her. She tries to scream, but her voice is gone, lost to the screams of the night before. All that comes out is a hoarse whisper that's barely audible even to her own ears.

Her eyes fall on the bottles of water, a cruel taunt in the face of her suffering. With trembling hands, she manages to untie the knots around her ankles, the rope scraping against her raw, bruised skin. Wincing, she uses the bar to pull herself up into a standing position, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. Every movement sends a fresh wave of agony through her body, but she refuses to succumb to it. Determined to survive, she hobbles over to the water, her legs shaking with effort.

The liquid is lukewarm and stale, but it's a gift from the gods as it hits her parched throat. She gulps down half the bottle, feeling a semblance of life return to her. Her eyes scan the room, searching for anything she can use to free herself. The metal bar digs into her wrists as she tries to pull herself together, the pain a stark reminder of her new reality. In the corner, she spots a rusty knife, discarded amidst the detritus of the abandoned house.

CHAPTER 3 : ANYTHING TO RELIEVE MY PAIN

The leader of the thugs saunters back into the room, a sadistic smile playing across his face as he watches Isa's futile attempts to free herself. He's followed by two of his laughing comrades, their eyes raking over her bruised and bloodied form with predatory interest. Isa tries to shrink away from them, but her bound body refuses to cooperate. The leader pulls a syringe filled with a murky liquid from his pocket and strides over to her, his cock already thickening at the sight of her fear.

"You're going to love this, sweetheart," he says, his voice a sinister purr as he approaches her. "It's going to make you feel so good, you'll be begging us to come back." He grabs her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You're going to be our little addict, aren't you?"

Isa's eyes widen with terror as she watches him prepare the syringe, her heart hammering in her chest. She tries to pull away, but the metal bar is unforgiving, holding her firmly in place. The needle pierces her skin, the cold liquid invading her body, and she feels a rush of warmth followed by a nauseating wave of dizziness. Her legs give out, and she slumps to the floor, the thug holding her up with a grip on her hair. The drug takes effect quickly, a euphoric haze clouding her mind, muting the pain and fear.

"Look at her, she's already a junkie," one of the other thugs says, laughing. "This is going to be so much fun."

The leader chuckles, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. "You're going to be our little slut for as long as we want you," he whispers in her ear. The drug is already starting to make Isa feel woozy, her thoughts a tangled mess of fear and confusion. She tries to fight it, to cling to the last vestiges of her dignity, but the haze is too strong.

As Isa's eyes roll back in her head and she succumbs to the drug-induced faint, the thugs chuckle to themselves, their sadistic games successful. They leave her there, sprawled on the cold floor, her body a canvas of bruises and abuse. The abandoned house is silent once more, the only sound the distant echoes of their laughter. Days pass, and the drug takes a firmer hold on Isa's system, turning her into a desperate, addicted wreck. The withdrawal is a monster that gnaws at her bones, making her crave the very thing that has brought her to this state of despair. Her mind is foggy, and the pain between her legs is a constant, pulsing reminder of their brutality.

Isa, desperate and overwhelmed by the relentless craving for the drug, finds herself succumbing to the thugs' twisted demand. With the camera's red light blinking in the corner, she hesitates for a moment before sliding her trembling hand down her bruised body. She's lost count of the times she's been violated, the rapes and abuse leaving her feeling both physically and mentally shattered. Her fingers tentatively trace her swollen pussy lips, the sensation sending a jolt through her despite the pain. The drug has turned her into a sexual creature, her body now a tool for their perverse entertainment.

The thugs circle around her, their cocks hardening at the sight of her submission. They jeer and leer, urging her on with crude comments and lewd gestures. One of them grabs her chin, forcing her to look into the camera. "Smile for the camera, slut," he sneers, his breath hot and rancid against her cheek. Isa's eyes are vacant, glazed over with the need for the drug that will dull the agony of withdrawal. She whimpers, her hand moving faster, her thumb brushing against her clit, trying to coax out the release she so desperately craves.

The leader steps closer, his hand stroking his own cock as he watches Isa's pitiful performance. "That's a good girl," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "Now, spread those legs wider for us." The pain in her thighs and ass is unbearable, but she complies, her body now a tool for their depraved amusement. The camera zooms in on her, capturing the raw desperation in her eyes, the tears that roll down her cheeks. The men cheer, their excitement palpable as they watch her degrade herself for a fleeting moment of relief.

Isa's hand moves faster, her fingers slipping in and out of her wet pussy, the sound of her masturbation echoing through the room. The drug has heightened her sensitivity, and even the slightest touch feels like a bolt of lightning. Her body responds despite her mind's protests, her hips bucking involuntarily as she tries to get herself off. The thug holding the camera leans in closer, his breath hot on her neck. "You're going to be the best little slut we've ever had," he whispers, his hand reaching out to tweak her nipple, sending a fresh wave of pain through her.

The leader watches with a cruel smile, stroking his own cock as he decides how far to push her. "Keep going," he says, his voice a command. "I want to see you cum for us." The other two thugs sit back, watching the show with eager eyes. They've grown bored of the usual rape and pain, the novelty of her masturbation a new form of entertainment. They make lewd comments, egging her on as she fucks herself for them.

With trembling hands, Isa takes the massive dildos from the leader's outstretched hand. They're much larger than anything she's ever seen before, let alone had inside her. Her eyes fill with fear and revulsion, but the desperate craving for the drug overpowers her. She knows what will happen if she refuses, the memory of the withdrawal agony fresh in her mind. With a deep, shuddering breath, she slowly inserts one of the dildos into her already abused pussy, the thickness stretching her beyond what she thought possible. She bites back a scream, her teeth sinking into her lower lip until she tastes blood. The other dildo is cold and unwieldy in her hand, but she knows what's expected. She reluctantly brings it closer to her asshole, the memory of their violent rape making her shiver.

The thugs leer at her, their cocks fully erect and bobbing with anticipation. The leader's hand is still wrapped around his shaft, stroking it with a leisurely pace. "Go on," he urges, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You know what to do."

With a whimper, Isa braces herself and pushes the second dildo into her asshole, the thick head popping in with a wet sound. She can feel the cold plastic filling her up, the sensation both terrifying and oddly comforting in the face of the pain she's come to expect. She starts to rock back and forth, the dildos moving in tandem, filling her completely. The thugs cheer, their eyes glued to her stretched, gaping holes. The pain is intense, but she's learned to separate her mind from her body, focusing instead on the task at hand.

The leader steps closer, his cock now fully erect and pointing at her like an accusatory finger. "You like that, don't you?" he sneers, his hand reaching out to tweak her clit. The sudden contact sends a jolt of pain through her, and she gasps, her eyes squeezing shut. "Look at us," he commands, his grip on her chin brutal. "Look at us while you fuck yourself."

Isa's eyes fly open, and she looks into the camera, the dildos moving in and out of her in a macabre dance. The pain is unbearable, but she knows she has to keep going. She starts to rub her clit with frenzied strokes, her eyes never leaving the camera. The thugs cheer her on, their excitement feeding the darkness inside her. Her orgasm is a strange, twisted thing, born from pain and fear. Her body convulses around the dildos, her muscles clenching and releasing in a desperate bid for relief. She cums hard, the sensation a blend of agony and pleasure that makes her scream, her voice raw from days of abuse.

"Good girl," the leader says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He steps closer, his cock now fully engorged. "Now, you're going to take us all again." The other thugs chuckle, eager for their turn. They unbind her from the chair, her limbs trembling from the effort of holding herself up for so long. The withdrawal pains are starting to creep back in, a persistent reminder of her dependence on them. They push her onto her hands and knees, her plump ass in the air, the dildos still lodged inside her. The leader steps up behind her, his cock nudging against her bruised asshole. She feels a fresh wave of terror, knowing what's coming next.

"Please," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "Please, no more. It's hurt so much."

CHAPTER 4 : THE TWO FACED CEO's

The leader's cock slams into Isa's ass, the thick dildo still lodged in her pussy. She feels like she's being split in two, the pain so intense she can't help but cry out. The thugs laugh and jeer, their excitement building as they watch the K-Pop star degrade herself for their amusement. The camera captures every moment of her anguish, the video feed streaming to the eager eyes of the old VVIPs on the dark web.

"Look at her, she's loving it," one of the thugs says, slapping her ass as the leader pumps into her. The CEOs of the K-Pop companies watch, their own hands working their cocks as they revel in her degradation. The thought of them watching, getting off to her pain, adds a new layer of horror to the situation.

Isa's body shakes with each brutal thrust, the dildo in her pussy slamming against her cervix with every thrust. The pain is unbearable, but she's learned to find a twisted sense of control in the chaos. If she can just endure this, if she can just make it through another round, then maybe, just maybe, she can find a way out of this hell. But the drug's grip is strong, and with each passing day, she feels herself slipping further and further away from reality.

"She's going to be a star," one of the thugs says, slapping her ass again. "The old fucks are going to pay a fortune for a piece of her."

Isa bites her lip to stifle her scream, but she opens them again, focusing on the camera as if it's a lifeline. The other two thugs move in, one holding her head still, forcing her to watch as they take turns with her.

The thugs, their excitement reaching a crescendo, pull Isa's limp body away from the metal chair. Her legs give out, unable to support her after the hours of abuse, but they catch her, their grips bruising her skin even more. They strip the dildos from her ravaged holes, tossing them aside with a wet slap. The leader steps back, zipping up his pants with a smirk. "Let's get you ready for your next performance," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The thugs, having struck a deal with the VVIPs on the dark web, begin to prepare Isa for her next ordeal. They strip her of any remaining dignity, cleaning her up as best as they can without showing any semblance of care for her wellbeing. Her body is a canvas of bruises and abrasions, a stark testament to the horrors she's endured. They tie her up in a new, more elaborate position, her thick thighs and curvy ass displayed prominently for the perverted gazes of their wealthy patrons. The anticipation of what's to come fills her with dread, but she's too broken to fight anymore.

"You're going to make us so much money, little slut," one of the thugs says, running his hands over her body, his fingers lingering on the swollen mounds of her breasts. "These old fucks are going to line up for a taste of you."

Isa's heart races with fear as she's hoisted back onto the chair, the ropes biting into her skin as they secure her in place. The knowledge that she's being sold to these high-profile perverts is almost too much to bear. She tries to keep her breathing steady, but her chest heaves with the effort of not breaking down completely.

Isa numbly stares at the array of skimpy, revealing clothes laid out before her. The thugs had brought in a selection of outfits that would make any self-respecting woman cringe - garments that screamed "slut" and "whore" with every thread. Her mind races with the thought of what fresh hell awaits her, but she knows that resisting is futile. With trembling hands, she picks out the least offensive of the bunch, a tiny bikini top made of nothing but a few strategically placed strips of shiny fabric and a pair of booty shorts that barely cover her ass cheeks.

The thugs watch with hungry eyes as she peels off the tattered remnants of her original outfit, her body on full display. They make lewd comments and whistle, their excitement palpable. One of them hands her a roll of duct tape. "Here, use this to keep those nipples hidden," he sneers, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. Isa's cheeks burn with humiliation as she takes the tape, her eyes downcast. She carefully tapes her nipples, trying to maintain a semblance of modesty despite the futility of the gesture.

The thugs exchange glances, their grins widening as they watch her struggle to put on the flimsy bikini top. The fabric clings to her bruised and swollen breasts, the tape barely containing them. Her stomach churns at the thought of what the CEOs will do to her, but she forces herself to stand, the shorts barely hugging her thick thighs. They laugh as she wobbles, her legs still weak from the days of abuse. The leader steps forward, his gaze raking over her. "You clean up nicely," he says, his voice a sneer. "Now, let's get you ready for your clients."

Isa, dressed in the skimpy stripper-like attire, is led out of the abandoned house, the thugs' hands rough on her arms as they guide her through the dark streets. The cold air hits her bare skin, sending goosebumps rushing over her body, a stark contrast to the warm, stifling air inside. They throw her into the back of a van, the metal floor cold and unforgiving against her bruised knees. The vehicle lurches forward, the bumps in the road jostling her in her seat, the dull ache between her legs a constant reminder of her situation.

The drive seems to last an eternity, the only sounds the grumbling of the engine and the occasional lewd comment from the thugs up front. The van eventually stops, and Isa is pulled out into the dimly lit parking lot of what looks like an exclusive club. The thugs lead her through a back entrance, the heavy door slamming shut behind them, sealing her fate. The music thumps through the walls, the bass vibrating in her chest as they ascend a staircase to a private room. The anticipation of what's to come is suffocating, her heart racing in her chest.

The door to the room opens, revealing a dimly lit space filled with the thick scent of cigar smoke and the low murmur of male voices. The CEOs are seated around a large, circular table, their eyes lighting up at the sight of Isa. They're all dressed in expensive suits, their faces a mix of excitement and greed. The leader of the thugs shoves her into the center of the room, where she stands awkwardly, her legs trembling. "Gentlemen," he says, with a flourish of his hand. "Your entertainment for the evening is finally here."

Isa, trembling with fear and humiliation, steps into the center of the dimly lit, smoke-filled room. The old men's eyes are glued to her, their gazes greedy and predatory. She knows she has to go through with the dance, hoping it'll buy her time or at least some form of mercy. She takes a deep, shaky breath and starts to sway her hips, trying to remember the choreographed routines she's done countless times on stage. The music begins, a slow, sensual beat that seems to mock the horror of her situation. She moves her body in time with the rhythm, her bruises and sores screaming with each twirl and gyration.

The CEOs lean back in their chairs, smoking cigars and sipping on expensive whiskey, their eyes never leaving her. They murmur to each other, placing bets on how long she'll last before breaking down. Isa tries to ignore them, focusing instead on the task at hand. The shorts ride up, exposing more of her thick thighs and the upper swells of her plump ass, making the men's eyes bulge with lust. She reaches behind her, her hand slipping into her shorts to caress her ass cheek, eliciting a chorus of lewd cheers. Her movements are forced, the dance a twisted parody of the ones she's performed for her fans, but she's determined to maintain some semblance of control.

One of the CEOs, Mr. Kim saunters over to the stereo and cranks up the volume, the bass thumping louder, the beat faster. "Alright, slut, don't waste our time anymore" he says, his voice thick with excitement. "Now, you're going to strip for us, nice and slow." The room goes quiet, the CEOs leaning in, their anticipation palpable. Isa feels their eyes on her, the weight of their lust and greed a heavy burden. With trembling hands, she reaches behind her neck, her fingers fumbling with the strings of the bikini top. It's a struggle, her coordination impaired by fear and pain, but she finally manages to untie it. The top falls away, revealing her bruised and taped-covered breasts, the fabric clinging to her skin.

The CEOs let out a collective groan, their eyes glued to her chest. Isa can see their cocks straining against their pants, their faces flushing with desire. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady her trembling legs, and continues to dance. Her movements become more erratic as she fumbles with the strings of her shorts, the pressure building with each passing second. Finally, the shorts fall to the floor, pooling around her ankles, leaving only a g-string covering her pussy.

The thugs cheer, egging her on, while the CEOs lean back in their chairs, stroking their cocks through their pants. "Keep going," said Mr Han, his voice thick with lust. "Show us what you've got, what you hide underneath your idol stage outfits."

Isa's hands shake as she reaches for the strings of her g-string. The room seems to spin around her, the strobe lights flashing in time with her racing heartbeat. She pulls the string, the fabric slipping down her hips, revealing her plump, abused pussy to their eager gazes. The CEOs lean in closer, their breathing labored, their hunger for her degradation insatiable. She's never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But she knows that she has to endure this. For the drug. For the hope of escape.

As Isa continues her erotic dance, her thick thighs jiggle with every move she makes. The CEOs' eyes are glued to her, their lust-filled gazes burning into her very soul. The room's temperature seems to rise, the heat of their desire melding with the smoke from their cigars. She starts to twerks, her plump ass bouncing to the beat of the music, the cheers and catcalls from the men spurring her on despite her fear. The leader of the thugs circles her, filming every move with a grin on his face, knowing the kind of money this footage will bring in. The sound of their zippers echoes through the room as the CEOs free their cocks, stroking themselves in time with her dance.

Mr. Han, a particularly portly man with a greasy combover, stands up and waddles closer to her. He grabs her by the hips, forcing her to grind against him. Isa tries to pull away, but he's too strong, his grip bruising her tender flesh. He whispers lewd things into her ear, his hot breath reeking of alcohol and cigars. Isa feels his cock, thick and hard, pressing against her stomach, and she can't help but gag. But she keeps dancing, her body moving on autopilot, her mind desperately searching for a way out of this nightmare.

Mr. Han's patience snaps, his lust overtaking his sense of decorum. He stands with a grunt, his grip on Isa's hips tightening. With a grin that's more a snarl, he hoists her into the air, the muscles in his arms bulging with the effort. Isa squeals in fear and surprise, her legs kicking wildly as she's held aloft. The room goes quiet, the other CEOs watching with rapt attention, their cocks in their hands, stroking in time with the music.

He slams Isa onto the table, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Her bruised body bounces slightly with the force, her taped-covered breasts jiggling from the impact. The table creaks under her weight, the surface sticky with the residue of previous debauchery. The thugs laugh, watching as she tries to push herself up, only for Mr. Han to slap her down, his hand leaving a red mark on her cheek. Her thick thighs spread wide, her pussy glistening with a mix of her own arousal and their previous abuse.

"Hold her down," he barks, his eyes wild with lust. The thugs move in, each grabbing an arm and a leg, spreading her out like a ragdoll for the CEOs' amusement. Mr. Han with the combover licks his lips, his hands fumbling with his belt buckle. "You're going to take us all, by turns" he says, his voice a low growl. "You're going to scream for us, and we're going to fuck you until you can't walk."

Isa's heart races as the Mr. Han unzips his pants, revealing a cock that's both terrifying and repulsive in its size. She tries to struggle, to fight, but the thugs' grip is too strong. The other CEOs crowd around the table, their eyes gleaming with excitement. One of them, a man with a cruel smile and a glint in his eye, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a marker pen. He starts to write on her body, his hand moving with a disturbing level of precision, leaving behind crude words that sting almost as much as the physical abuse. "Thigh Slut," he scrawls on her thigh, his breath hot against her skin. "Cheap Whore," on her stomach and "Bitch Korean Idol," on her ass cheeks. The others laugh, their hands reaching out to touch and grope her.

Mr. Han with the combover steps closer, his erection bobbing in the air. He grabs her face, turning it toward him, forcing her to look into his eyes. "You're going to scream for me," he says, his voice a mix of excitement and malice. "You're going to beg for it." He lines up his cock with her pussy, the head nudging against her swollen entrance. Isa's eyes widen with horror as she feels him push inside, the pain making her back arch off the table. She lets out a guttural scream, the sound echoing through the room.

Mr. Han grunts with satisfaction, his cock disappearing into her wetness. He starts to pound into her, his belly slapping against her bruised flesh. The thugs hold her down, their grips tightening as she bucks and struggles beneath them. The other CEOs lean in, their faces a mix of fascination and depravity as they watch the scene unfold. Mr. Kim then reaches down and slaps her ass, leaving a red handprint on her pale skin. "Take it, you little slut," he says, his voice gleeful. Isa's eyes fill with tears as she's used like a ragdoll, her body a plaything for their twisted desires.

"My turn," another CEO says, his voice a wheeze as he steps forward. The thug holding her leg releases it, and the old man takes his place, his cock already out and dripping with precum. He lines up behind her, his breath hot and sour in her ear. "You're going to take us all," he whispers, his hand reaching around to fondle her breasts. Isa tries to scream, but it's muffled by the gag that's been shoved into her mouth, the fabric biting into her tender flesh. She feels him push into her ass, the pain so intense she thinks she'll pass out. But she doesn't. She's too aware of what's happening, too present in the horror of her reality.

Mr. Han with the combover doesn't bother to hold back, his thrusts violent and erratic. He's not trying to pleasure her, just to satisfy his own twisted desires. Isa feels her insides stretch to the breaking point, the pain unlike anything she's ever felt. Mr. Han laughs, his hands squeezing her tits, his nails digging into her skin. The room spins around her, the faces of the old men a blur of lust and cruelty. They take turns, each one more brutal than the last, her cries muffled by the gag, her body a canvas for their depravity. They write on her, take photos, and even film their sick acts, sharing them with each other like trophies.

Isa feels herself slipping away, the pain and humiliation too much to bear. Her eyes glaze over, and she goes limp, the only indication of her consciousness the occasional whimper that escapes her gag. The CEOs don't seem to notice or care, passing her around the table like a toy to be used and discarded. The leader of the thugs, his eyes gleaming with greed, records everything, knowing the more degrading the content, the higher the price it'll fetch. Her mind drifts to the music she used to dance to, the lights, the fans' adoration. It feels like a lifetime ago, a world she'll never see again.

The CEOs take turns, their age not dampening their voracious appetites. Each one leaves his mark on her body, a grim testament to their power and control. The pain is constant, a never-ending crescendo that threatens to consume her. Her body is a battleground, her soul screaming for mercy. The room is a blur of movement and noise, the thud of flesh on flesh, the grunts of the CEOs, and the muffled sounds of her own pain. She feels a strange mix of anger and resignation, knowing that she's nothing but a commodity to them.

As the last of the CEOs pulls out, his cock slick with Isa's blood and tears, he grabs her by the hair and yanks her head back, forcing her to look at the group. "One last thing," he says with a sadistic smile. His cock still semi-hard, and starts to urinate on her. The warm stream of piss hits her face, mixing with her salty tears and running down her cheeks. She tries to turn away, but his grip is too strong. The other CEOs laugh, some of them standing up to get a better view, their own cocks still hard from the spectacle.

The CEOs, sated from their vile act, stand around the table, their cocks still out and glistening. They look at each other with a mix of disbelief and excitement, the reality of their depravity setting in. Mr.Kim nods, a grin spreading across his face. "Alright, let's not waste any more time," he says, his voice a mix of excitement and greed. "Line up." The other CEOs eagerly queue up, their urine flowing freely as they wait for their turn to add to Isa's degradation. The first CEO's stream of piss cascades down her face, mixing with her mascara and eyeliner, creating dark rivers that run down her neck and pool in the hollows of her collarbones.

Isa's body feels heavy and numb, the pain from their abuse and the humiliation of their bodily fluids on her a new level of hell. Each man takes his turn, their urine spattering her body, soaking her hair, and pooling around her on the table. The cold liquid runs down her back and into the cracks of her ass, making her shiver. Mr. Park, the CEO with the marker steps forward, his cock still semi-hard, and with a sadistic smirk, he writes another word across her forehead, "Public Property." The thugs laugh, their grip on her arms and legs never loosening.

As Isa feels the last drops of their urine hit her skin, she can't hold back the flood of emotions anymore. She starts to cry uncontrollably, her body shaking with sobs. The CEOs laugh and jeer, their amusement only growing at the sight of their property sobbing like a pathetic animal. The thugs, bored with the show, release her limbs, allowing her to collapse onto the table, her body sticky with their piss and sweat.

The leader of the thugs steps forward, his grin fading to a look of business-like indifference. "Alright, that's enough fun for now," he says, snapping his fingers. "Clean her up. We've got more...clients." The thugs begin to drag her off the table, her limbs limp and useless. One of them grabs a bucket and a sponge, tossing it in her direction. "Get to work, slut," he sneers. "You've got another show to put on."

THE END

#kpop gg smut #kpop girl group smut #lee chaeyoung #stayc isa #stayc isa smut #stayc smut #isa stayc #kpop girl noncon #kpop noncon #non con smut #non con

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merakiui · 7 months ago

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Your thoughts about darling having a bigger chest are marvelous!!!

I wonder what kind of reaction housewardens have after noticing her bigger milky tits... cause those cannot just go unnoticed... 😳

Riddle thinks if a growth spurt like that can happen overnight then surely he can grow a few centimeters taller… T_T he’s still very respectful, but even he’s struggling to not seem so obvious in his aversion towards looking directly at your chest. It’s even worse when Che’nya (while invisible) playfully gropes you during an unbirthday party and milk immediately dampens your blouse……. for the sake of himself, your dignity, and every other man here, he is begging you to go undergarment shopping because if you keep going braless (you can’t fit in your old bras anymore) he’s going to lose his mind. Perky nipples peeking through a shirt dampened by breast milk….. someone save Riddle.

Leona doesn’t say anything. He simply shrugs out of his uniform blazer and drops it on top of your head so you can cover up. It’s also a sly means of scenting you so no predators creep on you when they smell you and see your leaky tits. You can just return that to him later. No need to rush. But if you’re that eager to see him again, maybe he can help relieve the pressure in your chest when milk starts to build up. :) just a suggestion, though~

Hypothetically, if Azul paid you and you signed an NDA, would you be willing to sell your breast milk to him for use in the lounge……. >:) if not, please at the very least let him offer a helping hand. <3 it truly does hurt a kind, benevolent soul like him to see you struggling with your little issue. He could help you so long as you sign a contract~ and that milk of yours certainly won’t go to waste if you’ll allow him to keep it. He’ll even add it to his tea. He could whip up a potion that’ll fix this mess, but you know such a mixture won’t come cheap. His VIP room is always open. :)

Kalim will take you bra shopping!! He’ll buy you anything and everything to help you out. New bras, even some lingerie, new clothes to replace the ones you ruined with your milk… hey, here’s an idea!! Maybe your milk can be used in some of Jamil’s cooking. :D wouldn’t that be neat? Kalim would definitely try it! He doesn’t treat you any differently now that you have a bigger chest. He still fawns over and spoils you excessively. You know, it’s really cute when he squeezes your tits and watches the milk trickle out. It must feel so good, too. Kalim smiles as he cradles your breasts in his hands, and it feels much too pleasurable for you to object.

Immediately Vil suggests you change your wardrobe to suit this new addition. Certain styles of fashion flatter those with larger chests. That uniform blouse you wear stretches over your tits in a way that is so not flattering, and it instead looks quite messy. He’ll take you shopping and you’ll look so beautiful with Vil’s advice. He also suggests finding ways to manage your milk production. It’s obscene if you’re walking around with ruined clothes. Come see him every day and he’ll give your chest a massage that will not only help the soreness in your breasts but also aid in the milk production. The bottles are kept for his own purposes. You don’t need them, surely? :)

Idia almost can’t believe his eyes. Zoom in and enhance……. 👁️ 👁️ can it be,,,, since when did you grow in size??? He was so certain your chest was practically a washboard before, just small and humble, and now you’ve got very obvious cleavage when your tits are pressed together and you’re lactating!!!! Just what kind of special event is this…… orz he needs to update the way he draws you after seeing this change in anatomy.

Malleus is very curious. What is the purpose of so much milk, Child of Man? Size doesn’t mean anything to him. You’re perfect in his eyes whether you have a smaller or bigger chest, and even then it doesn’t matter so long as it’s you. He won’t tell you outright, but he does have the strangest sense of hunger every time he notices the wet patches on your shirt. He can’t help feeling like something is missing… if not yourself or anyone else, surely all of that milk is needed for something? A child, perhaps…… the baby fever is strong in Malleus. >_<

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #tw: lactation

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krys4h · 7 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ☆

summary◞﹒୧ Choso has a crush on his favorite customer at his vinyl shop, and he wants you bad.

contents◞﹒୧ 7.4k words, fluff, nsfw, smut, au modern setting, vinyl shop au, vinylshopowner!choso, chubby!reader, thick!reader, singlemother!reader, fem!reader, shy!choso, praise, pet name (baby), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, doggy style, smut with plot, not proof read, minors dni.

────୨ৎ────

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

Choso wasn't a womanizer, and certainly not a seducer. He was a stoic man, always wearing an aloof expression, as if he didn't want to be here. When he found a girl pretty, he simply looked away, no emotion crossed his face and he continued his day as if nothing had happened. He wasn't a virgin, just not the most comfortable at flirting.

In high school, Yuuji had more success than him. This cheerful guy attracted all the girls, his smile was a powerful tool. Choso, he was way too shy to even approach a girl, and way too aloof to let himself be approached.

So when you came into his vinyl shop, nothing could prepare him for the reaction, the wave of emotions that you were going to bring out in him.

With your daughter in hand, you walked into the shop, looking at your surroundings. The vinyl shop was a little place decorated with multiple plants, and hundreds of music posters were plastered on the walls. From Destiny's Childs to Linkin Park, rock, jazz, rap, all genres of music were on the walls.

Right next to the cash register were vinyl turntables, where “Kiss of life” by Sade was playing. There were vintage CDs bins under the vinyl bins. There was a special charm to the place, and a sweet smell of jasmine enveloped the room.

Choso was writing something behind the cash register when he raised his head to look at his new customer, all the air in his lungs disappeared. It was like those moments that shape everyone's life.

Saying you were beautiful was an euphemism. You were drop dead gorgeous, shaped by God himself, an angel sent to earth to drive people crazy. It was a sunny day, the sun's rays penetrated the shop to illuminate your figure, and made your skin glow.

Wearing a black maxi skirt that reached down to your feet, it hugged every curve of your lower body to perfection. Your jewelry made noise with each of your steps, and Choso didn't know where to look, your belly chain called him just like the multiple long necklaces that came down in your cleavage. Your chest was enhanced by a close-fitting top, black like your skirt, the perfect ensemble for the shape of your body. Your stomach was bare and you proudly displayed the stretch marks of your pregnancy under your belly chains.

When you turned around to rummage through the vinyl bins, Choso had to make a superhuman effort not to stare at your ass, the tight fabric of your skirt perfectly fitting your curves. Instead, his gaze was lost in your back, your top was backless, and it was the sexiest sight he has seen. Seriously, who was that girl? He never saw someone so gorgeous. Your skin was glowing in the sun, and your jewelry accentuated the shining aura you had.

The image of your body and face was forever imprinted in his memory and he swears he was not the same man at that moment. It was like your beauty had short-circuited his brain.

“Hey,” you said softly, placing your forearm on the wood counter.

He raised his head and blinked. Two times. Three times.

“I am looking for the vinyl of “Diamond life” by Sade. I didn’t see it in the “S” jazz section, are you maybe hiding it behind?” you smiled at him, and your hand pointing to the vinyl bins behind the counter.

Your eyes lingered on him. He was a very attractive man. Dark eyes and long black hair, there was something sexy about this combination. Dark locks of hair hid his forehead and framed his angular face, he had the hottest eyes, piercing and intense. Your hand intertwined with your daughter tightened as you looked at him.

He blinked so many times, trying to regain control of his thoughts.

“Sade? Yeah, it’s kinda rare, but once in a while, we have some,” he shrugged, typing something on his computer, preferring to look at his computer screen rather than at you, because you made him nervous. “Sorry, we don’t have it today.”

“Aww, too bad. I like this band so much.”

Your daughter fidgeted, visibly disappointed, her cute eyebrows furrowed. “They don’t have it ? But it’s a vinyl shop, I thought they would have all the vinyls in the world.” She pouted.

You chuckled softly, lowering your head and placing your hand on the top of her head.

“My daughter loves them too, as you can see,” you smiled at him.

Choso’s face softened, he thought your daughter was adorable. She looked exactly like you, like a mini you. He noticed the two of you had the same nails designs, yours in acrylics, and your daughter with simple nail polish. It was cute, honestly.

“Sorry miss, we don’t have all the vinyls of the world, but I’m sure nobody in Tokyo has my taste in music.” He took the pen he had been hiding behind his ear, grabbed a blank piece of paper, and leaned over the counter, looking thoughtful.

“Describe your type of music. Fav Genre, fav bands, and all.”

Your eyes widened, enthusiastic about talking about music.

“Oh, don’t get me started,” you laughed.

A ghost of a smile flashed Choso’s face.

“I’m not the type of person that lets his customers leave his shop with nothing.”

He started writing on the little piece of paper.

“Your like Sade, so you like Jazz, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m more in love with her person and her voice than the instruments. I love female singers who sing about love, poverty, and feelings.”

He looked up to you, seeing the fondness in your eyes as you talked about her. You were a real fan, and he liked that about you.

“I think I have something for you.”

He stopped writing, and left the counter to go get some vinyl from the bins. You could admire his lean body, he had baggy black jeans, but his thighs looked muscular even from where you were standing. His shirt was tight on his torso, you could see the outline of his abs, and how his biceps were flexing as he searched into the bins.

He found what he was looking for, and took the vinyl out of its packaging, to put it on the turntable next to him.

“Lauryn hill, To Zion. A song about her love for her child, with Carlos Santana. Amazing song, amazing vocals.”

The song began with guitar, and the soft voice of Lauryn Hill enveloped the shop. You swung your head gently to the sound of the music, and at the moment the chorus came where it went into high notes, you smiled at Choso.

“I love it, it’s such a cute song. Gonna make my daughter listen to it now,” you looked down at your daughter, and stroked her cheeks.

“I don’t listen to a lot of jazz to be honest. My favorite genre is mostly R&B, and rock. But soft rock, like Cigarette After Sex. I’m into rap too,” you explained as he came back behind the counter and picked up his pencil.

“Recent R&B or 90s?”

“Both. Love Brent Faiyaz, SWV and Aaliyah.”

“Good taste,” his praise made you all tingly.

He remained silent as he continued writing on the paper, and you leaned over to see what he was writing. As he did, your chest pressed against the counter, making it perkier, and when Choso raised his eyes, his cheeks heated up. With rosy cheeks, he continued what he was doing, trying not to stare too much at you, not wanting to look like a creep.

“There,” he handed to you the paper with a soft expression. “I hope you like it.”

You took the paper, and your eyes lit up at the number of artists and songs he had written on it. From recommending music from Aaliyah that you might like, to new artists like The Roots, Lauryn Hill, Erykah Badu, Jodeci… He had categorized each artist by genre, offering you alternative R&B with Frank Ocean to 90s R&B with Mint Condition, and rock with The Smiths. He had picked up on the fact that you liked female voices and had made a small category of female singers just for you, singers like Cleo Sol and Jill Scott.

“How did you know I could like Amy Winehouse?! I fucking love her!”

“Just a guess,” for the first time, his lips curled into a soft smile as he gazed at you. He was touched by your enthusiasm for music. You had that in common.

Your heart raced, you were so thankful. You were already excited to go home, open Spotify or Itunes and listen to all his recommendations.

“Thank you so much, I’m not depressed anymore for Sade.”

“You see, sweetheart?” you bowed your head to pat your daughter’s head. “We have lots of new music to listen to together, thanks to him.”

Your daughter stood on tiptoe to look at the paper you held out and she giggled, happy.

You didn’t want to go now. You wanted to talk with him again about music, and wanted to know more about him and what he liked to listen to. To have a real discussion about music, not a commercial discussion. He was really good at sales and business, you were already thinking about coming back next week to find vinyls of the artists he had recommended to you.

As you made your way towards the exit, you were suddenly pulled back softly by the arm, Choso grabbing it. He moved so fast from the counter to stop you.

“Just one last thing,” he began, his cheeks rosy, “I’m totally not doing that to ask you out, I promise.”

You paused, tilting your head.

“What is it?”

“My brother has a bar. A bar specializing in jazz and r&b. He’s quite famous, and a lot of artists come and do mini concerts there. I thought you might like it.”

A smile flashed on your face.

“That’s so cool! Where is it?”

He gestured to the wall next to you where a poster for a chic bar was posted. “The Groove”, it was named.

“Thank you,” your smile widened, “I will definitely go there this week with some friends. We were looking for a quiet place in Tokyo, this is perfect.”

“Good.”

He seemed shy, as if the contact of your skin burned him so he hastily let go of your arm.

“So…”

“See you soon? I’m definitely coming back!!! I’m gonna make a tierlist of all your recommended songs.”

His gaze softened, and he chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets. You were pretty, funny and has good taste in music. He was starting to have a horrible crush on you.

“See you soon.”

────୨ৎ────

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐪𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐚

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

Choso’s music taste was so good.

You had listened to all the recent albums by the artists he had recommended to you, and listened to all the songs he had written down on paper, and all of them were a bop. You had come back to the vinyl shop to find the vinyls of your new favorite artists and to give him your opinion on his recommendations. In the end, it had become a habit. You always came all happy in search of new vinyl and he always prepared a paper with new artists to discover.

Choso liked you. You were his secret crush. He waited impatiently for the day of the week when you were going to pass by, the similar heat invading him when he caught a glance of your hair in the sun in the entrance of the shop. He liked your voice, which always got excited to talk about music, and softened when you talked about your daughter, he liked your clothing style, you took his breath away every time you passed by the shop with an outfit that revealed the shape of your body. He liked talking to you, answering your daughter's curious questions. He liked you.

You liked him too, to be honest. He was fine as hell, you remembered precisely the day he had carried vinyl bins and how his shirt had ridden up, revealing tattoos on his hips and lean abs. He had tattoos on his neck, his hips, his arms, everywhere. You had memorized all his piercings, one in his nostril, many in his ears, and one in his eyebrow. He was always dressed in black, and he looked good like that.

He was passionate about music and knowledgeable about his subject. You could spend hours listening to him talk, and watch him put vinyl on the turntable so you could hear his recommendations. The problem was that you only talked about music when you wanted to know a little more about him. Know the meaning of his tattoos, what music he listened to when he was sad, how he got into music, his name. You wanted to know more about him as a person.

You were listening to some Frank Ocean song when your friend Mina called you. You stopped doing the dishes, dried your hands, and took the call.

“Hey,” you softly said, and you were greeted by her enthusiasm.

“I’m on leave!! My boss is going to leave me alone for the week, time to go out and have fun girl!”

You burst out laughing in your kitchen, listening to your friend energetically tell how she finally had some time off after months, and wanted to celebrate with you. You worked from home to be close to your daughter, so you had a lot of free time compared to her who worked for a big company that was stingy on vacations.

“You don’t leave your house often, I'm gonna get you out of here!”

“I'm leaving my place to do grocery shopping, and search for vinyls,” you remind her as you dries the dishes.

“Boooh, that’s so lame,” you could picture her rolling her eyes at the other end of the phone line, and you chuckled.

“Wait, I didn’t tell you about the cute guy I met-”

“Drop the tea!!! It’s been years since you talked about a man, I’m excited!”

You told him everything from the beginning, until today when he lent you a book about jazz and all the greatest artists of the genre.

“He’s definetely in love with you,” she stated and you laughed.

“Please.”

“You got a whole man bending over the counter to write playlists for you every week. And he gave you a book. Sounds like the beginning of a love story to me.”

You sighed, amused by her. It was true his actions were cute, but being in love with you ?

“He’s so fine, he can’t be single.”

“Tell me more about him. I bet he look like an emo kid.”

You paused, laughing you ass off.

“What the fuck?”

“You think I don’t know you ? Your type is men with long hair, tattoos and piercings.”

“You just described him.”

“See?” she chuckled.

“Okay, maybe… Maybe, it’s true. But he’s more like a punk kid than emo. There is a lot of punk bands in his shop,” you said as you were cleaning the sink with one hand, and the other holding the phone.

“Whatever, the two of you are a match in heaven. Don’t sabotage this, I beg you.”

“Sabotage?”

She sighed, and her voice was hesitant.

“You know what I mean. You always sabotage your relationships before they could grow.”

“You mean me being having standards for me and my daughter and taking no shit?” you frowned.

It was true since your daughter's father left you, not wanting to raise a child, you were very careful about who you trusted. You didn't want your daughter to get used to seeing different men hanging around the house, so you avoided bringing your dates home, and you were very demanding. Your daughter's safety was what worried you the most, and you didn't want to bring just anyone home.

“Not that. More like your trust issues ruining the relationships.”

“I found out my last date had a criminal record for sex trafficking, sorry to be careful now,” you mumbled, a bit irritated by the way she was judging you. She was your friend, but she didn’t know what it was to have a child.

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah. But enough talking about this,” you said, waiting to drop the subject. “My daughter is at my mom’s house. I’m free tonight if you want to drink something,” you smiled.

Explosion of happiness on the other end of the line, you moved the phone a little away from your ear while Mina screamed in joy. You were grateful to have a friend like her. She was honest, enthusiastic, and took time to check on you every month, to see how you were doing alone with your child. She could be a little blunt at times, but she was caring in her own ways.

Suddenly, you reminded something.

“I think I have the perfect bar for us.”

────୨ৎ────

“The Groove” was a chic bar, located next to a park. The walls were made of brick and covered with paintings by world-famous artists. There were large sophisticated lamps that dimly lit the bar, creating a sensual atmosphere. The room was built so that the stage was in the middle and the tables and chairs were placed around it. The bar counter was rounded, everything was made of wood, the counter and the tables, while the chairs were made of vintage fabric with flower patterns on them.

Choso occasionally worked for his brother Yuuji, when there was a shortage of waiters. He stood behind the bar counter, wiping glasses with a dishcloth, when he looked up to see who had come in. He froze in place when he saw you. Just you, he was staring at only you, and didn't even acknowledge your friend. You stole all his attention.

Dressed in a long dress that touched the floor, you walked into the room, amazed by the lamps around you. Artists played the saxophone on the stage, and you were immediately immersed in the atmosphere of the jazz bar. Your black dress was elegant, and the neckline deep. It was a completely black dress with no artifice but a bare back. Simple, elegant, perfect for going to the bar.

Yet, you were stunning in his eyes. The same heat arose in his body, as every time he saw you. As you walked in the bar and soon arrived at the counter, his brain was thinking fast. He was almost done with his shift, and he will be damned if he didn't take the opportunity to talk to you for real, get to know you, or even flirt with you. Shit. He wasn't a seducer, he didn't know what he had to do to seduce you, but he wanted you bad.

Your eyes widened when you saw Choso behind the counter bar. You nudged your friend.

“What?”

“The cute guy I was talking about is literally just here,” you whispered in a tense voice.

She looked at the direction you were looking and her eyes lit up.

“You have so much taste in men, damn. He’s so-”

You nudged her again, not wanting to play along.

“Stop it, be normal. Please,” you mumbled as you approached the counter.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” you placed your hands on one of the high chairs at the bar, a polite smile on your face.

It was at this moment that Choso noticed that you weren't alone, and he looked at your friend, who also had a long golden dress, which was the perfect match with her dark brown skin.

“You didn’t ask me,” he simply said as he continued to wipe his glasses. “It’s nice to see you here, what would you like to drink?”

His voice was nonchalant but inside his heart were racing. The thing about Choso was that he was shy in places and situations where he was not in control. His vinyl shop was his safe place, music was his favorite subject, he was in something he knew perfectly. But seeing you here, at his brother's bar, was something else entirely.

“Two mojitos please,” your friend said softly, and begin to walk towards the table area. “I leave you alone,” she whispered in your ear before leaving.

You were grateful, and smiled at her, before your attention was back on Choso.

“You never told me your name.”

“Choso. Choso Kamo,” he started to do your drinks. “And you?”

You said your name, and he repeated it softly, to see how it rolled on his tongue.

“It’s pretty. Like you.”

“Did you just compliment your customer?” you smile widened.

“You’re not my customer here, I can do whatever I want with you.”

Was he flirting with you? You didn’t know but you liked where this conversation was going. You leaned against the counter.

“Does that mean we can ask ourselves questions that have nothing to do with music?”

“Like, can you wait for me before you leave with your friend? I’m almost done with my shift, and I’d like to talk with you.”

He was bolder and bolder, and you liked it. Your cheeks ached from smiling, and you nodded.

He gave you your drinks, and his eyes lingered on yours for a moment as yours hands touched each other when you took the drinks. You felt hot under his gaze, and you felt his eyes on you on your back even when you walked toward when your friend were sitting.

────୨ৎ────

His shift was over and he had to go home but he was sitting on the high chairs at the counter bar, his eyes still on you. He was already thinking about what he was going to say to you when he was alone with you, and his legs were shaking with nervousness.

“What are you waiting for?” Yuuji said, who was making cocktails behind the counter.

“A girl.”

“A girl ?!” Yuuji’s eyes widened with surprise.

Choso never talked about girls, crushes or conquests. He was too shy to do anything with a girl. So Yuuji was surprised.

“She’s here?”

“Shut up,” Choso’s cheeks grew rosy, and Yuuji chuckled.

“You’re whipped,” Yuuji smirked.

Just at that moment, he heard a chair scrape the floor and turned his head toward you. Your friend was picking up her bag, ready to leave. This was his moment, he thought. He stood up from the high chair, took a few strides, and came to your table. He didn't look you in the eye as he sat down where your friend was.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey.”

The moment you were waiting for the most was here. A slight silence settled between you. It wasn't awkward, you were busy watching the artists play the saxophone in front of you. The melody gently enveloped the room. You were far from drunk, but a little tipsy, and smiled like an idiot.

“You're really pretty tonight,” Choso broke the silence first.

His eyes scanned your figure from head to toe, to remember it better later. He tried not to fix his eyes too much on your chest.

You turned your head towards him with a soft expression.

“Thank you,” you sipped your drink a little.

You acted calm, but inwardly you were nervous and you struggled to hold your glass steadily. It's been a while since you flirted with someone, you were too busy with your job and your daughter to do that.

Another silence.

“You…”

“So…”

You start your sentence at the same time and Choso chuckled softly.

“I'm not good at that,” he confessed, his voice low.

“Neither I am.”

“Really, though? I’m actually surprised you let me flirt with you.”

“What do you mean?”

He leaned his body over the table, moving closer to you.

“I mean,” he whispered, as if it was a secret, “a beauty like you can't be single, or am I just incredibly lucky today?”

Your stomach warmed.

“You're surprisingly really smooth for someone bad at this.”

“You're not answering the question,” he grinned, and you paused, admiring how his smile lit up his whole face.

“I’m single.”

“My lucky day.”

“Who said I was interested?”

“I will make you interested.”

You let out a soft chuckle.

“Confident, aren’t you?” you teased him.

He was anything but that. Under the table, he rubbed his sweaty hands on his jeans, his heart pounding. He was going to do things right, and had the goal of having at least your number by the end of the night. Or give you his, he was still hesitant.

“Tell me more about you. I can name your top 3 Spotify artists but I don’t even know your favorite color.”

“I'm a graphic designer who works at home, and I love reading romance books.”

“Graphic design? You make posters?”

You nodded.

“I work for a startup and do advertising. I make their posters, flyers. Pretty much everything visual for the brand.”

Choso listened to you attentively.

“Cool. I bet you must have favorite fonts.”

You let out a small laugh. He liked the sound so much and wanted you to always make it in front of him.

“Yeah, but nothing could beat New Times Roman. She's a badass,” you joked.

You talk to him about work for a few minutes, telling him what you like best about your job, what you like least, and how much fun it is to do it from home. Choso took the time to listen without interrupting you, nodding his head from time to time. You felt like he was interested in everything you said so you spoke without censorship. He had trouble looking you in the eye so his eyes darted to the side at times or he looked at the stage.

“It's cool how you're so passionate about everything.” He leaned against the back of his chair. “Your eyes are always bright when you talk about something you care about.”

“Really?”

You had never noticed this side of yourself.

“Yeah, it's cute. Your daughter is the same.”

Nothing could prepare you for the effect it had on you. It was a little thing, but it softened you, and warmth released in your belly.

“You're becoming a softie everytime I mention your daughter,” his eyes softened.

“You're really observant, it's scary.”

“I’ve been staring at you since you came to the shop. You steal all my attention.”

You were having trouble inhaling. He was going to make you shy if he kept this up.

“Enough talking about me, it’s your turn.” you decide to change the subject.

“You know my job already.”

“Your life is your job?”

“Pretty much. It’s my safe place. My hobby, my passion,” he said firmly. “My life is music.”

“What’s the last concert you went to recently?”

“Cigarettes After Sex.”

“Oh my god! Tell me about it.”

He smiled gently.

“It was amazing.”

“Of course it was, you’re so lucky to have managed to get tickets.”

“When you work in the music industry, it’s easier.”

You continued to talk about everything and nothing. Choso was easy to talk to, and he was a good listener. You learned more about him, about his bond with his brother Yuuji, what studies he had done or not done since he had dropped out of college to start his own thing, his shop. That was why his shop was so important to him, it was the realization of hard work and his biggest dream.

“I had to make a lot of sacrifices for my shop, dropping out of college was scary. It was like taking a plunge into the unknown.”

Empathy filled your eyes.

“I get that. It’s like your little baby, your shop. I was scared too when I got my daughter.”

“Are you raising her alone?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, “Her father didn’t want her.”

You confided in me about intimate things, but you felt comfortable with Choso. There was a connection with him, something inexplicable that bound the two of you together. You felt like you could tell him anything.

“What’s it like raising a child alone, not too tired?”

“Let’s just say my life revolves around her now, everything I choose for myself will have consequences for her. I can’t have fun dating just anyone, I think about how it might affect her,” you said with a thoughtful expression, looking down at your glass.

You told Choso how you had been through your pregnancy alone, and confided in him about the postpartum depression you had been experiencing. Choso listened to you attentively, he seemed really interested in what you said, and it put you at ease. It felt good to talk to someone other than Mina. You discussed current events, music, and books. It was a nice evening for the two of you where you felt safe with each other. You could be vulnerable with him.

Before leaving the bar, Choso had slipped a piece of paper with his number on it onto the table. He hadn’t looked you in the eye during the movement, staring at his knees. You found the action cute, finding it cute that he was so shy when he had been hitting on you all evening. You took the paper and put it in your bag.

Choso walked you towards the exit, his hand on the small of your back. His touch made everything tingly.

“It was a nice evening, Choso.”

“I hope this isn’t the last between us.”

You turned to him, a soft smile on your face.

“I can consider the idea.”

“Take your time, I’m all yours,” he whispered just near your ear and goosebumps spread across your skin.

Leaving the bar, the cold air outside made you shiver and you rubbed your arms. You turned to Choso still with your stupid smile because of the alcohol.

“So…”

“I’m walking you home,” Choso’s voice was firm, it wasn’t a question. “You’re tipsy and a woman alone in the night.”

You had no objection, and found his concern endearing. He took off his leather jacket to gently place it on your shoulders and you were melting inside. You continued to chat into the night, walking side by side.

You really liked Choso. He was a kind, passionate and caring man, who was close to his family and serious in his work. He had let you confide in him about your deepest pain concerning your daughter, and you didn't want it to stop there. You were planning on using his number, and seeing where this connection could lead you. Mina's voice came back into your head, advising you to stop ruining your relationships, and for the first time in a long time, you told yourself that she was right, and that you didn't want to ruin that connection with Choso.

But when you arrived in front of your house, you didn't know if it was the alcohol that made you act or the hidden desire you felt for him that resurfaced, your lips acted on their own when he lowered his head towards you to say goodbye. You gently pressed your lips against him, and he froze on the spot.

────୨ৎ────

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 - 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

You traced his bottom with the edge of your tongue, and he let out a soft sigh, his lips parted. If you wanted a kiss, he was going to give it to you. He was waiting for that all night long. He sucked in a breath, lips itching for passion, and brushed his tongue against yours as his hands gripped the back of your head, bringing you closer to him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and tangled your tongue with his. At first the kiss was gentle, teasing then it quickly became hungry, intense. He was craving you. You don't know how you get into the building, all you focused on was how he was ravishing your mouth while grinding his hips against yours, his length hard and needy in his pants. You pressed the elevator button then your floor number, and let out a soft moan as Choso pinned you against the elevator wall, continuing to kiss you with ardor and voracity.

He placed his arms under your ass, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. You rocked your hips against him, your lower half throbbing in need for friction. He slammed you against the elevator wall with each of his thrusts. Your hands in his back, you gripped at his shirt while you were panting against his lips. It’s been months since you did that with someone, your head was on fire. The elevator went up as you rubbed against each other, kissing.

The elevator stopped at your floor, and you stepped away from Choso for a few seconds, catching your breath.

“Follow me,” you took his hand in yours, and led him with you to your apartment. He followed behind you, his eyes on your ass. He wasn’t shy anymore, you had awakened a burning fire in him that he was waiting to release. You took out your keys to open the door but your hands were shaking. This was the first time you had brought a man home since you had your daughter.

“Where is your room?” he pinned you against the door once you were inside the apartment and lifted you again, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“At the back on the right.”

He carried you to your bedroom while pressing soft kisses on your jaw. Arrivé dans ta chambre, il te jeta sur le lit. Tu te redressais sur tes coudes, looking at him.

“Your daughter isn’t here?”

“She’s at her grandmother’s.”

“Perfect,” he said, rubbing his hands together and the action made you laugh. He looked like a child about to unwrap a Christmas present. Even though it was funny, it was making you kind of nervous, your heart raced.

“Choso, I…”

“What is it ?” his eyes softened as they roamed your figure on the bed. He noticed the little shaking of your hands. He walked forward and placed one knee on the bed.

“It’s been so long since I did this, I don’t know if…”

He bent over, took your hand and placed it on his chest, on his heart. You felt the rapid beats under your palms.

“I’m as nervous as you,” his voice was tender, “I’m not that experienced, I’m afraid of making mistakes, and ruining the moment. But as you can feel it, I’m excited as fuck. I want to do this.”

He lowered his head just above yours, his gentle eyes roving over your figure on the bed.

“So, can you trust me?”

Lips pressed against yours, he ravaged your mouth. His kiss was feverish, hungry. Your lips molding against each other, tongue brushing against each other, the atmosphere quickly became sensual and intense. Your hands caressed his arms, gripped as his shirt when he nuzzled your neck to press soft kisses against it.

“I always wanted to see your tattoos,” you whispered, turning your head to give him more room to kiss you.

“You do?” Choso smiled against your skin, his tongue licking at a spot on your neck. You shivered at the sensation.

He straightened himself, knees on the bed. He took off his shirt, and your eyes widened at the amount of tattoos he had on his chest and arms. You lifted a hand to touch them, hypnotized.

“Do they have any special meanings?”

“No, I liked the drawings.” He took your hands and let it roam on his skin.

His skin was smooth, you were taking in the sight of him, shirtless in front of you, his muscles flexing with each of your touch. He looked like a fallen angel. An extraordinary beauty, complex and dark with ink on his skin, and his long black hair.

“Let me see you too,” he murmured and tugged at your dress.

You flinched, hesitant. This was going to be the first time a man saw you naked after your pregnancy. You couldn’t help but be invaded by insecure thoughts about your body. You hadn’t yet lost the weight gained during pregnancy, and working from home, you weren’t getting much exercise. You had the “mom bod” that people online liked to criticize. Choso noticed your expression and bent over again, cupping your face. His touch was gentle.

“What is it?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you chuckled uncomfortably.

“Tell me.”

He looked so good just above you, you were almost jealous of him. You looked away, not knowing how to explain what you were feeling. His eyes narrowed as he looked at you.

“I want to hear it, even if it's embarrassing,” he whispered softly, not backing down.

“It’s been a while, that’s all.”

He gently eased the straps of your dress down your arms, and you flinched without wanting it.

“You’re sure you want it?”

Your stomach dropped, feeling guilty. You were ruining this.

“Of course I do, it’s just…”

God, it was so frustrating. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of him and call yourself fat, you didn’t want to seem like you needed attention. Raising a child alone has taught you to be independent, to not rely on others, so why did you feel so weak right now? You were worth more than this.

“Leave it to me,” Choso whispered, his voice soft and reassuring, and you were grateful to have come across someone so gentle with you.

He nuzzled against your neck again, kissing the sensitive flesh. As he was wandering his lips on your skin, his hands were busy removing your dress. He removed each layer of clothing gently and patiently, his touch soft on your skin. With the dress off, all you had left was your underwear. Your heart was pounding, and you fought the need to cover your breasts with your arm. As you breastfed your daughter, your breasts were a bit saggy and was your biggest insecurity.

His eyes never left your face, his head went down and down, kissing your shoulders, your collarbones, and then your chest. Goosebumps spread across your flesh as the cold air of the room brushed your skin. He wrapped his tongue around one of your nipple and sucked it. You arched your back on the bed, dipping your hands in his hair. He revelled in the pleasure he could make you feel.

Tits stuffed in his mouth, his hands wandered around your thighs, teasing you. His palms were dangerously close to an area that was yearning for his touch. You let out a soft moan when his fingers started to caress your center. He shivered at the sound, and continued his caresses on your clothed cunt. His index and his middle fingers moved back and forth at the wet spot on the underwear, and he smiled against your skin as he felt you squirming under him.

He didn't torture you for long, as he slid his fingers under your thong to finger you better. His elbow on the bed, he kept his eyes on your face as he pushed his fingers in and out, the soft squelch of your pussy enveloping the room. He took pleasure just by looking at you squirming and gasping for air, hearing your soft pleas. You tugged at his hair, as you rocked your hips against his hands, chasing your orgasm. You were so close, you needed a little more.

“Cho’,” you were a mess, moaning his name as his thumb rubbed against your clit.

“I know, I know,” Choso sucked on your nipple, his fingers thrusting in and out your center, his hands sticky by your arousal.

There was something magical about having your tits eaten while being fingered. It was an incredible, intoxicating feeling that washed over you as you came on his fingers. For a second, you forgot about your insecurities and were overcome by pleasure.

Choso didn’t waste time, and quickly took off his jeans and boxers, and threw them somewhere in the room. He was so excited, his cock was throbbing.

“Wait,” you stopped him, coming down from your high.

You sat up to grab a condom from your nightstand and handed it to him. A deep, low laugh rumbled in his chest as he took it.

“My bad, I almost forgot.”

He put the condom on and positioned himself between your legs. He looked up to take in the sight of you lying on the bed for him. He saw the stretch marks that you proudly displayed, your saggy breasts that made you self-conscious, and the parts of your body that were thick and round, and he fucking loved it. Electric feeling sparked across his body as he gazed at you with feverish eyes. You were so fucking sexy that he couldn’t wait to ravish you. He had always told himself that he did not have a type of girls in his life, but as he looked at your chest rising and falling, he thought that his type was you. He wanted all of you, and it was with the intention of driving you crazy with pleasure that he lined his throbbing cock with your entrance, and slammed into you.

You jolted, a moan of pain slipping out of your mouth. He was so big, and was making you feel full, you needed time to adjust at his length.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he rubbed his thumb on your clit to relax you.

He pushed in and out in a slow motion, giving time to adjust. When he noticed your expression was relaxed, he started to picking up the pace of his thrusts. His hands gripped your love handles to hold you in place and you were flustered by his animality. He was going to fuck you stupid, you knew that.

“You’re so beautiful, it’s a crime that you’re not married to me and I can’t fuck you like this everyday.”

You wanted to answer to him but you were panting, and struggled to even articulate a sentence as he pounded into you. He was fucking you stupid, the shy and gentle Choso wasn’t here anymore and all that remained was the wild creature he was becoming because of you. He was fucking you to oblivion, his cock rutting into you. Lewd and wet noises enveloped the room.

“You hear how good I am making you feel, baby? If you were mine, I would let you feel like this everyday,” he breathed out.

In pure bliss, his eyes roamed your figure on the bed, your tits and other parts of your thick body jiggling and bouncing because of his hard thrusts, and he felt in heaven. That was what he wanted in his life. He turned you around, your chest pressing against the mattress, and your ass up. Nervous, you turned your head to look at him behind you but he pushed your head against the pillow as he grew more dominant and slammed his hips against your ass. Your whole body jolted and you moaned into the pillow, gripping it in your hands.

“That ass is to kill for,” he grunted as he gripped your love handles even tighter, and he was becoming dizzy as he looked at your ass ricochetting on his pelvis with each of his thrusts. He slapped your ass with force, and soft pleas left your mouth.

He completely ravaged your body, fucking you with force and intensity from the back. Gasping for air, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head, moaning helplessly into the pillow as you were close. Even when you came, he didn’t stop. He continued to pound into you as if it was his last mission on earth, and when he finished, you had no strength anymore in your body.

────୨ৎ────

“I’m not casual about you,” he whispered softly in your hair, “I'll scare you if you knew everything I imagine with you.”

A soft chuckle escaped your mouth. Lying on the bed together, legs intertwined, bodies sweating, and slowly catching your breaths, you relaxed together.

And you imagined a life where Choso were yours, and you felt happy in his arms.

𓍯 𝐤𝐫𝐲𝐬

#𐙚 writings 𓍢ִ🌸˙#choso x reader #jjk choso #choso kamo #jjk smut #jjk x reader #choso fluff #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x female reader #choso x you #jjk x you #kamo choso #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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mallgothmaggot · 7 months ago

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“VICTORIA’S SECRET.”

summary: you took sam into a lingerie store, in hopes he would be embarrassed… but he got revenge.

wc- 4,371

warnings- afab reader, slight humiliation, some degradation, voyeurism if you squint, cream pie, overstimulation is implied, spanking and if i forget any, lmk!<3

a/n- i have a 5 day trip to nyc in a few hours, so i probably won’t be active for that time period, im currently writing an anakin skywalker AND a scott barringer fic rn. ill be sure to finish them when im home:)))

"Sam, please don't be like this," She begged, turning on his arm as he rolled his eyes. "It's just a lingerie store. It's not like we're going to a pet cemetery or something."

He sighed heavily, his studded belt jingling against the metal rack of a nearby clothing store. "Fine," he grumbled, "but I'm not going to help you pick out your granny panties."

With an indignant huff, she shot him a glare that could've cut glass. "For your information," she said, her voice sharp as a knife, "I don't wear granny panties." She spun on her heel, her hair whipping around like a dark halo, and stormed towards Victoria's Secret, her favorite lingerie shop. Sam had no choice but to follow, his sneakers squeaking against the polished mall floor.

Once inside, the soft glow of the pink lights bathed them, the scent of vanilla and jasmine hanging in the air. She began to weave through the aisles, her eyes scanning the delicate lace and silk that adorned the mannequins. She couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the thought of Sam being in such a place, his discomfort was almost palpable. It was like watching a fish out of water, flapping around, trying to find its way back to the ocean of black band t-shirts and skinny jeans.

Her gaze drifted to the far corner where a royal blue set caught her eye, the exact shade of the streak in Sam's hair. It was a daring choice, she thought, but it had a certain allure that called to her. She picked it up, the fabric feeling like a whisper against her skin. The set was comprised of a push-up bra with a lace trim that would make her cleavage look like a secret garden and matching panties that had a cheeky little bow at the back. She couldn't resist a smirk as she imagined Sam's reaction.

Turning to face him, she held up the ensemble with a flourish. His eyes widened like a teenage boy's would at the sight of his favorite band's poster. She watched as his gaze took in every inch of the lingerie, his pupils dilating with desire. "What do you think of this one?" she asked sweetly, playing coy.

"Oh my god," Sam breathed, his baby blue eyes darkening with a hunger she hadn't seen before. "If you wear that, you won't need any other accessories," he managed to murmur, his voice hoarse with restrained lust.

Her smirk grew into a full-blown grin as she turned to face him, holding the royal blue lingerie set against her chest. The soft light played over the material, casting shadows that only served to enhance its allure. She could see his pulse quickening in his neck, his fingers itching to touch the silky fabric.

SUMMARY^1: She found a royal blue lingerie set at Victoria's Secret, the same color as Sam's hair streak. Presenting it to him, she playfully asked for his opinion. Sam's reaction was intense, his eyes revealing desire and his voice growing husky, suggesting she would look stunning in it.

"Well, if you insist," she said, sauntering towards the checkout. The color looked stunning against her pale skin, the blue a stark contrast to the darkness of her outfit. She knew it would look even better against the starkness of her bedroom walls. The cashier looked up, her eyes flicking between Sam and the lingerie with a knowing smile. She felt a thrill of excitement, enjoying the fact that she was making him squirm in public.

As she placed the set on the counter, Sam's gaze remained glued to it, his mind racing with thoughts of peeling it off her later. The cashier's eyes darted to him, reading his discomfort with a smirk before she scanned the tags and bagged it. The plastic crinkled as she handed it over, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet store.

"Thank you," she said sweetly to the cashier, her voice dripping with the satisfaction of knowing she had Sam right where she wanted him.

Before she could even think of her next shopping destination, Sam's grip on her arm tightened and he began pulling her through the mall at a pace that was halfway between a brisk walk and a full sprint. She stumbled to keep up, laughing despite herself at his urgency. "What's the hurry?" she teased, glancing over her shoulder at his flushed face.

SUMMARY^1: She bought the blue lingerie set, enjoying Sam's evident desire. The cashier smirked at their interaction. He grew increasingly eager to leave, practically dragging her through the mall, his discomfort now tinged with excitement. She playfully questioned his rush, amused by his flustered state.

"You know what," he murmured, his eyes dark with something that sent a shiver down her spine. She playfully resisted, letting out a little squeal when he picked up his speed, dragging her out of the lingerie shop and into the bustling mall. The sound of their shoes on the tiles and the distant chatter of shoppers faded away as they approached the exit.

The cool air of the parking lot was a stark contrast to the warm, fragrant atmosphere of the mall. Sam's grip on her arm didn't loosen as they made their way to his car, a black sports car that looked as out of place in the suburban mall as he did in the lingerie store. He opened the door for her, his movements sharp and decisive. She slid in, her heart racing from a mix of excitement and the sudden shift in his demeanor.

He got into the driver's side and cranked the engine, the purr of the car vibrating through her body. She watched as he shifted gears and peeled out of the parking space, the tires squealing against the asphalt. She could feel the speed increasing as they left the mall behind, the scenery outside becoming a blur of colors and lights. It was only when they passed a street sign that she realized they were not heading towards her house.

Her eyes narrowed, and she turned to him. "Sam, you missed the turn."

"I know," he said, his voice low and intense. "We're not going to your place."

Her eyes widened. "What? Where are we going?"

SUMMARY^1: He bought the lingerie and hurried her out of the mall, his excitement palpable. Despite her playful protests, he led her to his black sports car and drove off. When she noticed they weren't going to her house, she questioned him, surprised by the shift in their plans.

He didn't take his eyes off the road, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. "My apartment," he repeated, and she felt his hand land on her thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. It was possessive, almost aggressive, and she couldn't help the way her body responded, heat blooming in her core.

Her heart raced as the car sped through the city streets, the lights flashing by in a colorful blur. She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sudden dryness in her throat. "Sam," she began, but his grip tightened, cutting her off.

With each speed bump they hit, she found herself subconsciously shifting forward in her seat, her core grazing the side of his hand. It sent a jolt of electricity through her, and she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from gasping out loud. His eyes flicked to hers briefly, a knowing smirk playing on his lips before returning to the road.

"Sam," she whispered, her voice barely above the engine's growl. But the words she wanted to say died on her tongue when she saw the look in his eyes, a fiery determination that was as mesmerizing as it was terrifying.

He pulled the car into the underground garage of his apartment complex, the headlights cutting through the darkness like twin beams of white-hot desire. The tension in the air was thick, charged with the promise of something raw and primal. He parked in his designated spot, the engine idling for a moment before dying down to a quiet hum. His hand didn't leave her thigh as he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face her. "You wanted to play this game," he said, his voice a dark whisper, "now it's my turn to set the rules."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of teasing or jest in his gaze. But she found only a fiery determination that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew she had pushed his buttons in the lingerie store, flaunting her sexuality without a care for his comfort. And now, she was about to face the consequences of her actions.

"I'm sorry," she offered, her voice small and meek. But the words were cut off by the sudden pressure of his hand moving higher, his thumb grazing the edge of her panties. She gasped, the fabric already damp with anticipation.

Sam leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with a dark satisfaction. "And that's just from my hand? You're such a naughty whore for my hand, aren't you?" His words were like a slap to her senses, jolting her out of her momentary hesitation.

Her eyes flashed with a mix of shock and arousal as she processed his crude yet undeniably accurate assessment of her current state. She bit her bottom lip, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and desire. He wasn't wrong; she was wet, and it was all because of his touch, his presence, the way he made her feel like prey to his hungry gaze.

Without another word, Sam opened the car door, the cool air of the garage brushing against her heated skin. He pulled her out of the car, his grip unyielding, and she stumbled slightly in her haste to keep up with his long strides. He slammed the door shut behind them, the sound echoing off the concrete walls as they made their way to the elevator. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows that danced across his face, making his features look harsher, more predatory.

As the elevator doors slid open, he scooped her into his arms, his strength surprising her. She gasped as he carried her across the threshold of his apartment, the door swinging shut with a bang that seemed to reverberate through her entire being. The space was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to block out the city lights. The only illumination came from the flickering glow of a candle on the nightstand, casting long shadows across the room.

He set her down roughly on the bed, the mattress bouncing slightly beneath her. She watched as he moved with purpose, the tension in the air thickening like a storm cloud about to unleash its fury. He grabbed the bag from the lingerie store and tossed it to her. "Put it on," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Her trembling hands reached into the bag and pulled out the royal blue set. She could feel his eyes on her as she unclipped her bra and slid off her pants, the fabric pooling around her ankles like a dark waterfall. The cool air hit her bare skin, making her shiver. She took a deep breath and slipped the panties on, feeling the soft lace kiss her skin before adjusting the bow at the back. The bra was next, the cups cupping her breasts, pushing them up to create a perfect view that she knew would drive him wild.

As soon as she had the lingerie in place, Sam was upon her. The studded belt hit the floor with a clank, the spiked bracelets following. His hands moved with an urgency she had never seen before, peeling off his black band t-shirt to reveal the toned abs she had only ever caught glimpses of. The sight of his bare chest made her pulse quicken, the anticipation building within her like a crescendo in a symphony of desire. He kicked off his sneakers and yanked down his jeans, his eyes never leaving hers, the intensity in them making her knees weak.

Her own hands were trembling as she watched him, the fabric of her new lingerie seeming to hum with the energy in the air. He stepped out of his pants, and she couldn't help but gasp at the size of his erection, straining against the fabric of his black boxers. With a smirk, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and slid them down, revealing himself to her fully. She felt a warm rush between her legs, her body responding instinctively to the primal need she saw reflected in his gaze.

"On your stomach," he ordered, his voice a gruff rumble that sent another shiver through her. She complied, her heart hammering in her chest as she felt the coolness of the bed against her skin. He climbed onto the bed, his weight pressing down slightly, and she could feel the heat from his body radiating through the mattress.

He straddled her hips, his legs on either side of her. His hands were firm as they gripped her wrists, pulling them back until she felt the soft bite of the handcuffs snapping shut around them. She gasped, a mix of surprise and arousal, her eyes widening in the dim candlelight as she felt the cold metal digging into her skin.

With a smirk, he reached down and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her new lingerie. With one swift tug, he ripped the delicate fabric away, exposing her bare ass to the cool air. "Sam!" she exclaimed, the shock causing her voice to crack. "I just bought this!"

"I'll buy you more," he replied, his voice a low growl of dominance. "Now, be quiet." His words were a command that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew she had pushed him to his limit, and now she was going to pay the price.

With a smug smile, he tossed the shredded lingerie aside, revealing her bare skin to the cool air of the room. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and incredibly turned on. His hand trailed down her back, sending goosebumps along her skin as he caressed her curves. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the harshness of his earlier tone.

The sudden sting of his hand smacking her ass took her by surprise, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment. She yelped, her body jolting at the sharp pain. He didn't give her time to recover, delivering another smack, harder this time. The heat spread through her cheeks, the pain turning into a warm ache that mingled with her desire.

Before she could even begin to protest, his hand clamped over her mouth, silencing her. The smell of his skin, a mix of leather and sweat, filled her nostrils as she felt his other hand positioning himself at her entrance. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a cocktail of fear and excitement. Then, without any warning, he thrust inside her, filling her completely in one swift motion.

The sudden intrusion took her breath away, the pain momentarily overwhelming the desire that had been building in her. She bit down on the hand that covered her mouth to stifle her cry, her eyes watering with the intensity of the sensation. But as the initial shock subsided, she felt her body begin to adjust, the pain morphing into a deep, primal pleasure that spread through her like wildfire.

"You wanted to act like a whore in the lingerie store," he growled, each word punctuated by a brutal thrust, "so now you're going to be treated like one." His hips pistoned into her, the force of his movements pushing her further into the bed. She could feel the fabric of the comforter bunching up under her, the material rough against her sensitive skin.

The sting of his words and the harshness of his touch were a stark contrast to the tenderness she had come to expect from him. But the fire in her belly grew with every smack and thrust, the pain mixing with the pleasure until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. She managed to arch her back a little for him, lifting her ass up to meet each punishing movement, her eyes watering from the intensity of it all.

Sam's grip on her mouth tightened as she moaned, muffling the sounds of her pleasure. He knew he wasn't going too far; they had agreed on boundaries before, a safe word that could stop everything in its tracks if she ever felt truly uncomfortable. But she hadn't said it, and she wasn't using her safe action either—a subtle tug on his earlobe that signaled she needed him to ease up. Instead, she was responding to him like a wild animal in heat, her body writhing beneath him, her hips bucking back to meet his every move.

The room grew hot with the scent of their combined desire, the candle flickering as he pounded into her. He watched the way her body reacted to his touch, the way her breaths grew ragged and desperate, and he knew she was getting off on this. It was a heady feeling, one that made his blood sing with power and lust. He smacked her ass again, the sound ringing out in the quiet apartment, and she moaned even louder, her pussy tightening around him.

Her eyes watered from the pain, but she didn't protest. Instead, she arched her back more, pushing her ass up higher to meet his every thrust. It was the only thing she could do in her bound state, and she used it to her advantage, moving her hips in a way that had him groaning with pleasure. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his grip on her wrists tightening as he picked up his pace.

He leaned down, his breath hot against her neck as he whispered obscenities into her ear. "You like this, don't you?" he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine. "You like being my little whore, don't you? My little fuckdoll.”

Her breath hitched, her body responding to the harshness of his words. She couldn't deny it; the way he talked to her, the way he used her, it all just made her wetter, made her crave more. She nodded, a silent admission of her desires, her eyes fluttering shut as she focused on the feeling of him inside her.

His whispers grew filthier, his breath hot and wet against her ear as he spoke of all the things he was going to do to her. His words painted a vivid picture in her mind, one that had her pussy clenching around him. "You're going to take it all," he murmured, his hips moving in a rhythm that was punishing and perfect. "Every inch of me, until you're begging for mercy."

The hand that had been clamped over her mouth moved down to her stomach, his fingers digging into her skin as he pushed down, forcing her to arch even more. The pressure was intense, and he felt something strange—a bulge, a sensation that sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through him. He realized that she was so tight around him, so filled to the brim with his cock, that he could feel it in her belly. The realization made him even harder, his body responding to the idea of being so completely claimed by him.

"Feel that?" he murmured into her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "That's what you do to me, baby. You make me feel like I own every part of you." He leaned down to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin. The hand that had been on her stomach trailed down to her pussy, his thumb finding her clit. He began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles, his movements matching the rhythm of his hips.

Since her mouth wasn’t clamped shut anymore, she could talk. And talk she did, letting out a string of moans and gasps that grew more frantic with every stroke. "Sam, I'm close," she whimpered, her voice shaking. "So close." She could feel her orgasm building, a tension that coiled tightly in her belly, ready to snap.

Sam's response was to thrust even deeper, his pace quickening. His thumb moved in circles over her clit, the pressure just right to drive her wild. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice thick with desire. "Come on my cock, like a good little whore."

The words were like gasoline on a fire, setting her off. Her orgasm crashed through her like a tidal wave, her body shaking with the intensity of it. She cried out, the sound a mix of pleasure and pain as she felt him swell even more inside her, his own release imminent.

"Sam, I'm coming," she managed to gasp out, her voice hoarse from the effort of holding back. She could feel the muscles in her stomach tightening, her pussy contracting around his cock as the pleasure overtook her.

He responded by pounding into her even harder, his own climax approaching like a runaway train. With a final, desperate thrust, he emptied himself inside her, filling her with his hot seed. He groaned, his body shuddering with the force of his release. But he wasn't done. He kept moving, his hips jerking in a staccato rhythm, his cock still hard and demanding.

The feeling of him coming inside her was almost too much, but she was so lost in the haze of pleasure that she didn't protest when he pulled out, his cock glistening with their combined juices. He was like an animal in heat, insatiable and unrelenting. Before she could catch her breath, he had her flipped onto her back, her wrists still bound by the handcuffs.

Her legs were trembling, but she managed to spread them, giving him full access to her pussy. She watched as he stroked himself, his eyes locked onto her face, watching her every reaction. "Again," he growled, his hand a blur as he worked himself back to hardness. The sight of him was almost too much, so raw and primal.

He didn't waste any time, plunging back into her with a ferocity that left her gasping for air. Each thrust was a declaration of his dominance, and she reveled in it. He was so deep inside her, so deep she could feel him in her chest. The sensation was overwhelming, and she knew she was going to come again.

As she felt the familiar tightening in her belly, she reached for his hand, silently begging for release. He smirked, knowing exactly what she wanted. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, "Not yet, baby. Not until I've had my fill." And with that, he reached between her legs and found her clit again, rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

Her breath hitched, and she could feel the second orgasm approaching, a wild beast ready to pounce. She moaned around his thumb, her body writhing beneath his, her legs trembling with the effort of holding herself up. He leaned down to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he whispered more dirty promises. "I'm going to make you come so hard you won't be able to walk straight for days," he murmured, and she knew he meant every word.

The pressure inside her was unbearable, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with every stroke. She could feel the head of his cock nudging against her cervix, and she knew it was only a matter of time before she shattered. His thumb moved faster on her clit, the pressure building until she couldn't take it anymore.

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared up at him, her pupils dilated with lust. "Sam, I can't," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't hold on much longer."

But he was relentless, his strokes becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. She felt the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled and flexed with each powerful thrust. And when he finally came again, it was with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundation of the room. He pushed deep inside her, his cock pulsing with the force of his orgasm, filling her up completely.

Her own orgasm was just as intense, the second one hitting her like a freight train. She bucked against him, her bound wrists tugging at the handcuffs as she screamed out his name. Her pussy clenched around him, milking him for every drop, and he groaned in response, his hips jerking with the force of it.

Finally, with a last, desperate thrust, he pulled out, and she watched as his semen began to trickle out of her, painting a white line down her thigh. Sam's gaze followed the path of his release, and she could see the hunger in his eyes as he took in the sight of her, trembling and used.

Without a moment's hesitation, he leaned down, his tongue darting out to catch a droplet of his own cum on her skin. She gasped at the sensation, the taste of him on her, and the realization of what he was doing. His eyes met hers, a wicked glint in them as he licked the trail of semen up to her pussy. He paused at her entrance, his breath hot against her sensitive flesh.

"Sam, what are you doing?" she managed to ask, her voice trembling with a mix of shock and excitement.

"Now, be quiet for me baby," he murmured, his tone a seductive blend of dominance and affection.

#hayden christensen #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #18+ mdni #coreellia #cloverinas fics <3

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transsexula · 1 month ago

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I figured out why the "forcefem is political and good and viewing forcemasc through the same lense is not only appropriate but the only way to view it" pisses me off.

It starts off with the base assumption that it us encouraged for all people to be masculine, and to be feminine, is a subversion of the way we are told the world works.

Except: The problem is that assumption that ALL PEOPLE are encouraged to be masculine, that is ecceptable to reach for manhood. This is not the case for a lot of AFAB people.

Perceived masculinity in AFAB people often gets punished.

You know the joke about how there's an "acceptable butchness level" to video game characters? It's only if she has muscles because she has long hair and a fem voice and NO peach fuzz and NO visible body hair and her clothes are skin tight and made to enhance the view of her cleavage.

Any variation on that, if not carefully controlled in the other aspects, automatically is met with rage: this is just the online, character version of this.

Every woman in my life, cis, trans, and intersex: is held to a certain standard of femininity.

Now. Please extrapolate. How people who don't see me as a "true man" would categorize me. Because I am NOT put in the category of "person who is allowed to achieve masculinity" unless I'm strictly in a social setting of all butches/dykes/trans men/transmascs. Which, I gotta say, doesn't tend to happen all that fucking often.

It's not a giant leap. If people AMAB can find radical happiness by subverting the gender roles assigned to them by reaching to forcefem. Does it not make sense that people AFAB could potentially find similar radical comfort in the rejection of their own assigned gender role at birth?

Masculinity is only expected of, and allowed to be achieved by, certain people. Masculinity is not the default for like 50% of the world. The world's been working on this binary system for so long, forcing intersex kids into one or the other box to fit into that binary system— how can you forget that there's a whole chunk of the population who is burdened with the "other side" of that binary system?

This may not be perfect wording. But do yall see what I'm trying to lay down?

NOTE: This is not me asking if you personally feel comfortable being GNC/trans where you live, or if you had an easy time accessing masculinity. If your lived experience doesn't line up with this that's okay. But mine and other people's lived experience deserves to have space to be talked about.

#transandrophobia #forcefem #forcemasc #okay to reblog just dont be a dickhead #if something isnt making sense or more clarification is needed let me know im fighting brain fog tooth and nail rn #so i cant like #be sure this doesnt sound like rambling lmao

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natalievoncatte · 10 months ago

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Kara had a guilty pleasure, one she didn’t share with anyone. It would have been awkward, and besides, everyone- friends, family, Lena; they all would have mocked her, relentlessly. It was the first of September and Kara was bracing herself for six months of the most exquisite torture.

She wasn’t expecting it on Lena’s desk.

When she walked into the office, the scent hit her. It tickled something in her brain and set her nerves alight, cascading shivers of excitement running down her limbs.

Kryptonians, you see, are not human. They are aliens, and react to things, to stimuli, in ways humans do not. The most obvious implication of this is Kryptonite, or rather the Kryptonite radiation it emits, which is unique to Kara’s lost homeworld and is deadly poisonous to her while being essentially harmless to humans without both significant and prolonged exposure.

There were, however, other things that Kara responded to differently. Certain flavors were too intense; some things her peers found pleasant were overwhelming or inexplicably bitter or otherwise unpalatable. Her enhanced hearing, even without her powers active, made her sensitive to noises that a human wouldn’t even notice. The list went on and on.

One thing in particular, though, was especially… stimulating to her. It got her motor going, as it were. Not like that, of course. Ironically it had the same effect on her that caffeine had on humans, even in small quantities.

There was something in pumpkin spice that excited Kara. Just not like that.

Okay, maybe a little like that. Even the scent of it made her feel things, and there was a steaming hot cup of it on Lena Luthor’s desk.

Kara had been summoned over some editorial matter of little consequence, probably an excuse to chat. When she stepped into her office, Kara stopped dead because Lena reached across her desk and picked up that cup and Kara was already having trouble.

Lena was… Lena. She was dressed in thigh high boots and black jeans and a tight, low cut green sweater that revealed a generous swell of cleavage that immediately drew Kara’s brazen eye. She caught herself looking and quickly put a stop to it, but Lena was looking right at her, smoldering green eyes peering at her over the rim of that damned coffee cup.

Great Rao, Lena was beautiful. Her hair was swept over one shoulder, baring the elegant column of her neck and her sharp jawline. Her visible ear carried multiple piercings dripping with diamonds and there was a faint pink tinge to her pale cheek. The red of her lipstick was almost violent and she positively smoldered. One might have thought she was dolled up for a photo shoot.

Kara was staring at those lips as she took a sip of coffee, leaving a faint white stain on the white cup.

Such a visual feast with the mere scent of the spices in her coffee was enough to weaken Kara’s knees and make her secretly fidget her toes inside her shoes. It was only a quick chat, a five minute conversation, but it was excruciating trying to get through it like this.

“Earth to Kara,” Lena sighed.

Kara blinked. “Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll go?”

“Where am I going?”

Lena rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Kara, you’re benched.”

“Wait, what?”

Lena huffed. “Look, it’s noble, going days without sleep while you live your double life, and we did agree that Supergirl duties will take precedence over your work here… but I can see you’re exhausted. I can’t order you to stop rescuing cats from trees and helping old ladies with their taxes, but I can order you to take the rest of the week off from working here. Which you are. Starting now.”

Actually, Lena probably could order her to stop doing things. Lena could probably order to do anything with the spicy tang in her nostrils and the quivering weakness in her limbs as heat gathered low in her belly. Kara was glad that she had just been ordered out.

“Oh,” Lena said, “and stop at Noonan’s on your way out. I hear the pumpkin spice lattes are your favorite and well,” she gave her cup a little shake.

Kara decided she would not stop at Noonan’s.

She stopped at Noonan’s. She got a PSL and a pumpkin spice bear claw and a dozen pumpkin spice donuts and consumed them all in the span of five minutes once she set foot inside her loft, after which she spent the next thirty in the shower thinking about Lena’s pillowy red lips and how kissable they were and her pale skin and how badly she wanted to mark it as hers and she sort of spent an hour in a pumpkin spice fueled fugue, and then passed out on her bed buck-ass naked.

Which was where she still was when the knock came at the door.

Her head shot up from the bed and she realized that it was movie night and she was hosting. She had no movies picked out, no snacks, and no clothes.

What she did have was super-speed, and this had a spread of frozen snacks ready to go in the oven, and a stack of blu-rays to be voted on, and pants. She needed pants and probably a bra and definitely a shirt. Humans were weird about their torsos. Fortunately Kryptonians were, too. Kara was rather lucky that she hadn’t landed on a planet that considered shirts obscene.

There were at least two like that, which isn’t a lot, but it was more than you’d think.

Kara opened the door and greeted Alex and Kelly, ushering them in. Brainy and Nia were next.

Lena showed up last, dressed in one of her peculiar movie night fits- a stylish leather jacket over honest to god fluffy pajamas, like a fashion plate going to a slumber party. Her hair was down and wavy and she looked soft and inviting and Kara wanted to snuggle her relentlessly and was very glad that the pumpkin spice was largely out of her system.

Largely.

Oh.

Lena lifted the two six packs she was carrying, giving Kara a suggestive arch of her eyebrow. Lena liked to bring gifts when Kara hosted, usually wine. Tonight she had twelve chilled bottles of… pumpkin spice beer.

Kara wanted to scream. Or possibly moan. Or possibly make Lena moan and maybe spank her a little.

Fuck!

“Hi-hi,” said Kara.

“Hi yourself,” said Lena. “Mind if I come in, or do you want to drink these right here?”

“C-come in,” said Kara.

“Eyyyyyy,” said Alex, as she saw the six packs. “The spice must flow!”

“The spice must flow,” Kelly repeated.

“Chai Hulud,” Nia said, in a faux-deep voice.

“I believe it is “Shai Hulud,” said Brainy.

“Sure, honey,” said Nia, patting his knee.

“You gonna hand those out?” said Alex.

“These are for our host,” said Lena. “Kara has plenty of spirits in her fridge.”

Alex busted out laughing, confusing the others.

Kara remained stone-faced.

Movie night then went on as normal. Everyone took seats, the first movie was voted on, snacks were enjoyed and beers were had. The pumpkin bottles sat in their cardboard holders in the fridge, untouched.

Until they got into the second movie, and Lena sauntered over from the kitchen carrying two bottles, and thrust one into Kara’s hands as she wedged herself in between Kara and Nia, casually tossing her legs over Kara’s lap.

Kara steadfastly did not look. She would not look. She would not look. Surely Lena was just making herself comfortable and private hadn’t noticed that the top couple of buttons on her pajama top had popped themselves and she was showing quite a generous amount of…

Kara looked away sharply. She had looked.

“Do the thing, darling,” said Lena.

“Do the thing! Do the thing! Do they thing!” Nia began to chant.

Sighing, Kara took her bottle and Lena’s, and popped the caps loose with a flock of her thumbs. Lena squealed in delight and Kara realized that actually drinking this concoction was an amazingly terrible idea.

Especially since Lena was basically in her lap now.

Kara tried not to drink, but the hint of that spicy scent from the beer was enough to make every nerve ending tingle and start a fire in her belly. She took a long pull on it and quickly realized she’d drained the bottle in one go.

Lena, grinning, stood up. Kara watched every sway of her hips as she marched to the kitchen, bent to grab another bottle from the bottom shelf of the fridge, and sashayed back to shamelessly plop right in Kara’s lap and offer her the new bottle.

The little display has gotten at least Alex’s attention, and she looked somehow at once horrified and amused and whispered to Kelly, who snorted.

Nia picked up on it next, after Kara had downed her fourth one of the cured pumpkin brews and her brain was sloshing around in sweet cinnamony goodness.

She was running into a considerable problem. Lena was curled up in her lap, draped across her in fact, a soft weight that was driving her absolute insane even as the scent of Lena’s… of Lena mingled with the spices singing in her veins. She forgot the movie. She forgot the existence of everything but Lena, and barely noticed when Alex announced,

“Guys, it’s late. I think we better head out so that Kara and Lena can clean up.”

“Perhaps we should help,” Brainy suggested.

“Nah, let’s go,” said Nia, who then muttered, “seriously Querl we need to go.”

Kara blinked and watched them all pile out, Alex shooting Lena a knowing look before rolling her eyes and closing the door.

Two seconds after the door closed, Lena twisted languidly in Kara’s lap, and was now no longer sitting in her lap but straddling her.

Kryptonians, you see, are not human. They are aliens, and react to things, to stimuli, in ways humans do not. They also have anatomical structures that humans do not, something that was was currently causing Kara to blush furiously, because Lena was well… sitting on it.

“I can explain,” Kara squeaked.

The look Lena gave her would have been devastating, pumpkin spice or no pumpkin spice. Lena’s face filled her vision as Lena placed her hands on Kara’s sides and rolled her hips, dragging a groan out of her.

“Is that explanation going to include a hands on demonstration?” said Lena. “I may need a few rounds before I fully understand.”

Kara swallowed hard. “You mean… you w-want to…”

“Kara,” Lena sighed. “How is someone who’s been flirting with me for five years so bad at flirting?”

Kara stared at her.

“Just, um, to clarify, you’re flirting with me, right?”

“I’m sitting in your lap unbuttoning my top, darling. I believe that qualifies.”

“You’re what?”

Lena grinned and swept her fingers down her chest, popping the rest of the buttons in sequence. The pajama top suddenly hung lose, baring the lush inner curves of her breasts while obscuring the rest of her in an agonizing promise.

Kara, finally, after years of this, took the hint and had Lena relieved of her fuzzy pajamas by the time they hit the bed.

The next morning, or rather next afternoon when Lena woke up, Kara looked over at her. Her eyes had just opened and she was grinning ear to ear.

“Lena?” said Kara.

“Yes? Before we go again I’m going to need a protein shake and some supplements.”

Kara felt her ears burning as her cheeks heated.

“Did you know about the pumpkin spice thing?”

“Pumpkin spice thing?” said Lena.

“Alex told you, right?”

Lena pursed her lips.

“Nope.”

“Cat Grant?”

“No, although I did ask her and she said you, and I quote, ‘creamed your khakis’ in front of her one time.”

“Then who?”

Lena grinned.

“I went to Clark to ask him the right way to go about seeking your attentions. Lois overheard and pulled me aside. Apparently you two share the same weaknesses.”

“My only weakness is you, baby.”

“Oh, it’s baby now, is it?”

“Yup,” said Kara.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #smut #pumpkin spice #kryptonians are aliens #Kryptonian aphrodisiac #Lena Luthor loves Kara Danvers #kara danvers loves lena luthor #lena knows kara is supergirl #Lena is going to buy a pumpkin spice mine #she who controls the spice controls the Kryptonian

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kpoplustzone · 2 months ago

Text

Black Fun

OC X Somi

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Sun-warmed and glistening, Somi sprawled on the lounger, her every curve emphasized by the barely-there pink fabric. The tiny triangle cups of her bikini top strained to contain her full, perky breasts, threatening to spill out with the slightest movement. The deep cleavage on display hinted at the enticing valley between them, begging for a touch.

Somi 1

The skimpy bottoms dipped low on her hips, showcasing her flat, toned stomach and the smooth expanse of her milky thighs, leading down to where the fabric barely concealed her shaved mound. The vibrant pink seemed to highlight the rosy hue of her areolas, visible beneath the thin material when the sun hit her just right. Water droplets clung to the fine hairs on her tanned legs, sparkling like tiny diamonds. Her long, bare legs were slightly parted, drawing the eye to the hinted shadow between them.

One hand idly trailed along her inner thigh, her glossy lips slightly pursed as she scrolled through her phone, oblivious or perhaps enjoying the subtle glances she was surely attracting. The oversized sunglasses couldn’t hide the playful glint that occasionally peeked out from beneath them, suggesting a knowing awareness of her undeniable sex appeal. She was a vision of youthful, unrestrained sensuality, every inch of her body radiating a potent erotic energy in the warm afternoon sun.

With a languid stretch, Somi slipped into the cool water of the pool. The turquoise liquid enveloped her body, a refreshing contrast to the warm sun. As she moved, the bright pink bikini became instantly saturated, the thin fabric clinging to her like a second skin, outlining every luscious curve with breathtaking clarity.

The water plastered the tiny triangle cups of her bikini top directly against her full breasts, revealing the prominent, hard nipples jutting out against the wet material. The deep cleavage was even more pronounced, the line between her breasts a dark, tempting crevice. Each stroke she took caused the wet fabric to shift, offering fleeting glimpses of the rosy areolas underneath.

The bikini bottoms, now soaked, clung tightly to her hips, showcasing the smooth curve of her stomach and the rounded fullness of her behind. The wet fabric dipped low in the front, pressing intimately against her shaved mound, the outline visible beneath the saturated pink. It was as if the water itself was caressing her most private parts, highlighting her feminine form with an almost indecent precision.

As she swam, droplets of water cascaded down her sun-kissed skin, each bead catching the light and making her glow with a sensual sheen. Her long, wavy hair, now completely drenched, trailed behind her in the water like dark ribbons. Strands of wet hair slicked against her forehead and temples, framing her face in a way that only enhanced her natural beauty.

Emerging from the water after a short lap, Somi slicked back her wet hair with a playful flick of her wrist. The movement caused her breasts to jiggle enticingly beneath the clinging bikini top, and a stream of water ran down her cleavage, disappearing into the fabric. She stood for a moment at the edge of the pool, the water cascading off her body in shimmering rivulets, every inch of her radiating a potent, water-slicked sensuality. The wet bikini left absolutely nothing to the imagination, presenting her body in all its youthful, vibrant glory.

A mischievous glint sparkled in Somi’s eyes. She glanced around the pool area, a playful smirk forming on her lips. With a quick, decisive motion, she reached behind her neck and untied the straps of her bikini top. The tiny pieces of fabric slipped easily through the wet ties, and the top floated away in the water, revealing her bare, perky breasts in all their glory. The cool water immediately enveloped them, the sensation a delightful contrast to the sun-warmed air.

Then, with another fluid movement, she reached down and tugged at the sides of her bikini bottoms. The saturated fabric slid down her hips and legs, disappearing beneath the surface of the water. Now, Somi was completely nude, the turquoise water her only covering. She submerged herself a little deeper, the cool liquid caressing every inch of her bare skin, a secret thrill coursing through her. She leaned back against the pool wall, her arms outstretched, a picture of uninhibited sensuality in her watery embrace. The feeling of the water against her naked body was exhilarating, freeing, a delicious secret shared only with the shimmering pool.

A feeling of blissful freedom washed over Somi as the cool water caressed her naked skin. She floated on her back for a moment, gazing up at the clear sky, enjoying the feeling of being utterly unburdened. Just as she was sinking into a state of peaceful reverie, a sudden movement at the other end of the pool startled her.

A man emerged from behind a cluster of lush tropical plants, stepping into the shallow end of the water. He was completely nude, his dark skin a striking contrast to the turquoise of the pool. Somi’s eyes widened instinctively at the unexpected intrusion, her initial surprise quickly morphing into something else entirely as her gaze drifted downwards.

There, jutting out proudly from his groin, was a thick, heavy black cock, already fully erect and pointing upwards. It was larger than anything she had ever seen in person, its dark head gleaming wetly in the sunlight. Somi’s breath hitched, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. Her eyes remained fixed on the impressive sight, a mixture of shock, curiosity, and a flicker of something undeniably intrigued swirling within her.

Mark’s breath hitched in his throat. He had come to this secluded pool hoping for a quiet swim, a bit of nude freedom away from prying eyes. And then he saw her. Somi. The K-pop idol, the one he’d seen countless times in music videos and online, looked impossibly glamorous. But here, now, she was completely bare, the clear water shimmering over her naked form.

His eyes drank in the sight, his initial surprise quickly morphing into pure, unadulterated lust. Even partially submerged, her incredible figure was undeniable. The way the water caressed her smooth, bare shoulders and the delicate curve of her collarbone was mesmerizing. He could see the outline of her perky breasts beneath the water’s surface, the tips likely hard from the cool temperature.

His gaze drifted lower, imagining the feel of the water against her flat stomach, the gentle swell of her hips. He knew she was completely nude, and the image of her bare thighs and the dark triangle of hair below flashed through his mind, igniting a fire in his groin. His cock, already hard from his anticipation of a nude swim, throbbed even more intensely at the sight of her.

Damn, he thought, his mind reeling. Somi. Naked. In the same pool as me. It felt like a scene from a fantasy. He tried to play it cool, not wanting to startle her, but his gaze kept returning to her, drawn in by her natural beauty and the sheer unexpectedness of the situation. He had to fight the urge to move closer, to say something, but the look of surprise on her face told him he had interrupted a private moment. Still, the view… it was breathtaking. The sexy idol, completely nude, right there in front of him. This was going to be an unforgettable swim.

Somi, initially startled, seemed to quickly regain her composure, a playful glint returning to her eyes. Instead of retreating, she seemed to embrace the unexpected encounter. With graceful strokes, she began to swim towards Mark, her completely nude body moving fluidly through the water.

Mark’s gaze was completely fixated on her as she approached. The water rippled around her bare breasts, the cool liquid seeming to accentuate their fullness and the erectness of her nipples. He could see the smooth line of her stomach and the dark shadow of her pubic hair just below the surface as she glided closer. The way the water streamed over her naked skin made her look like a mythical sea creature, a siren luring him into her watery embrace. Her thighs, milky white and smooth, moved in a scissor-like motion, propelling her effortlessly through the pool. He could only imagine the feeling of those thighs brushing against his own.

As she neared him, Somi swam in a slow, deliberate circle, her eyes meeting Mark’s over the water. Her lips curved into a knowing smile, a silent invitation. The water barely concealed her nakedness, and Mark could see every curve and contour of her body with startling clarity. Her breasts bobbed gently with her movements, and for a fleeting moment as she turned, he caught a glimpse of her smooth, bare backside. The sight was breathtaking, the casual display of her naked body an undeniable act of seduction. Mark’s cock throbbed even harder, his initial surprise now replaced by a potent wave of lust. He was completely captivated, unable to look away from the stunning, nude idol swimming so enticingly close.

With a playful flick of her wrist, Somi took a deep breath and gracefully dove under the surface of the water. Mark watched, mesmerized, as her slender, nude body moved beneath the clear turquoise. She swam with the effortless grace of a mermaid, her long hair flowing behind her like a dark ribbon.

Then, with a subtle shift in direction, she swam lower, her body descending towards Mark’s midsection. He could see her eyes, wide and curious, as she approached his fully erect cock. The water magnified her features, making her appear even more alluring. She paused just inches away, her gaze intently focused on his dark, throbbing member. He could see the slight pucker of her lips, as if she was considering tasting him right there in the water.

From Mark’s perspective, having Somi’s naked body so close to his cock was an unbelievable thrill. Even with the distortion of the water, he could see the soft outline of her bare breasts just above his penis, the tips pointing downwards towards him. The curve of her stomach was inches away, and he could almost feel the brush of her smooth skin against his rigid flesh. He held his breath, every nerve ending in his body on high alert, completely captivated by the sight of the stunning idol observing his erection with such open curiosity. The underwater encounter felt intensely intimate and charged with unspoken desire.

somi 2

Without breaking eye contact, Somi slowly opened her mouth underwater and gently enveloped the head of Mark’s thick cock. The warm, wet sensation sent a jolt of pure electricity through his entire body. Her lips sealed around him, and he could feel the soft rasp of her tongue as she began to tentatively lick the underside of his glans.

Mark’s breath hitched, trapped in his lungs. This was beyond anything he could have imagined. Somi, the incredibly sexy idol, sucking him off underwater. He felt a surge of disbelief mixed with an overwhelming sense of elation. He was acutely aware of the water swirling around them, the muffled sounds of the pool above, and the incredible intimacy of this moment.

His eyes remained locked with hers, her curious gaze unwavering as she continued her exploration. He could see the bubbles escaping her lips as she took more of him into her mouth, the pressure surprisingly firm yet gentle. The feeling was utterly surreal, his senses heightened by the novelty of the underwater oral sex and the sheer desirability of the woman performing it.

Holy shit, Mark thought, his mind racing. This can't be real. Somi is sucking my dick. He felt like the luckiest man alive. Just moments ago, he was enjoying a nude swim, and now, the fantasy of countless men was happening right in front of him, or rather, right in his mouth. He could feel his cock throbbing in response, straining against the confines of her mouth, and he had to fight the urge to thrust forward, wanting to savor this incredible, unexpected pleasure.

Breaking the surface with a playful splash, Somi emerged from the water, her nude body glistening under the warm afternoon sun. She stood directly before Mark, the water cascading down her smooth skin, every curve and contour on full display. The confidence in her eyes was intoxicating.

Reaching out with a deliberate slowness, her hand wrapped around Mark’s still-throbbing cock. Her touch was firm and knowing as her fingers closed around the thick shaft, her thumb brushing against the sensitive head. A knowing smirk played on her lips as she looked directly into Mark’s eyes.

“Like what you see up close, big boy?” she purred, her voice a low, husky whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. Her gaze flickered down to his hard member, now firmly in her grasp. “This looks like it’s enjoying our little swim.” She began to gently stroke him, her hand moving with an experienced rhythm. “Tell Somi what you want.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued her sensual ministrations. “Have you been dreaming of touching me like this?”

Overwhelmed by desire, Mark reached out and gently cupped Somi’s face in his hands. Her skin was soft and damp under his touch. He leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a deep, lingering kiss. Her mouth was warm and welcoming, her tongue immediately seeking his in a playful dance. The kiss was filled with an unspoken urgency, a clear acknowledgment of the mutual attraction that had sparked between them.

Breaking the kiss, Mark’s gaze dropped to Somi’s full, perky breasts, now just inches away from his face. Without hesitation, his large black hands reached out and cradled them. The weight and softness of her bare flesh in his hands sent a jolt of pure sensation through him. Her nipples, already hard from the cool water and her own arousal, pressed against his palms. He gently squeezed, feeling her breath hitch as he did so. He ran his thumbs across the sensitive tips, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. The feeling of Somi’s incredible body in his hands was intoxicating, a culmination of the unexpected and intensely erotic encounter in the pool

as Mark held her breasts in his hands, he could feel their perky firmness despite her lean frame. They weren't overly large, but perfectly shaped, fitting snugly within his big hands. Her ribcage was delicate beneath the swell of her breasts, leading down to a flat stomach that rippled slightly as she breathed. Her long, slender legs, now bare and wet, gave her a graceful, almost ethereal appearance, even in this explicitly sensual moment. Her overall physique was that of a dancer – toned and lithe, yet possessing a captivating fullness in all the right places

With a surge of desire, Mark lifted Somi out of the pool, her wet body surprisingly light in his arms. He carefully placed her on the cool, tiled edge of the pool, her bare legs dangling over the side. Without hesitation, he roughly separated her long, fair legs, his gaze immediately drawn to the glistening junction between them. He knelt before her, his eagerness palpable, his mouth already watering at the prospect of tasting her sweet nectar.

Mark’s face moved between Somi’s outstretched thighs, his breath warm against her wet folds. The scent of her arousal, mingled with the chlorine from the pool, was intoxicating. Without hesitation, his lips parted, and his tongue flicked out, tracing the delicate line of her swollen labia.

Somi gasped, her hands instinctively reaching down to grip his hair. Her legs, which had been dangling loosely, now tightened slightly, her toes curling against the cool tiles. She leaned her head back, her eyes fluttering shut, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Mark’s tongue continued its exploration, now delving deeper into the slick crevice, tasting her sweetness. He gently lapped at her clitoris, the sensitive nub immediately reacting to his touch, hardening and throbbing. Somi’s moans grew louder, more insistent. Her hips began to lift slightly off the cool tile, a silent invitation for him to continue.

He then used his fingers to gently spread her open, giving him even better access. He could see the delicate folds of her inner lips, glistening and engorged. His tongue danced across them, flicking and swirling, teasing every inch of her wetness. Somi’s body began to tremble, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. Her hands in his hair tightened and loosened in rhythm with the intense sensations he was creating.

He paid special attention to her clitoris, circling it with his tongue, applying gentle pressure, then sucking it firmly into his mouth. Somi let out a high-pitched cry, her hips arching further off the edge of the pool. He could feel the pulsing deep within her, the unmistakable sign that she was close to the edge. His face was completely immersed in her femininity, the taste and smell of her overwhelming his senses in the most delicious way possible

Her pleasure intensifying with Mark's expert ministrations, Somi's free hand reached down between her legs, her fingers finding her own slick, swollen flesh. She began to gently stroke herself, her touch mirroring the rhythm of Mark’s tongue. The combination was electrifying, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Her breath grew ragged, her moans turning into whimpers. Her body began to tremble uncontrollably, her hips bucking with increasing urgency against Mark’s face. Then, with a final, sharp cry, her muscles clenched violently, and a gush of thick, creamy liquid erupted from her core, spraying directly onto Mark’s face. Her legs shook, her body arching as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over her. She continued to jerk her hand, the tremors running through her entire frame, until finally, with a shuddering sigh, she collapsed back against the cool tiles, completely spent.

Mark pulled himself out of the pool, the water streaming off his dark, muscular body. Somi watched, her eyes wide as they traced the defined lines of his physique. His broad shoulders tapered down to a trim waist, and the muscles in his arms and legs flexed as he moved. And then there it was, his thick, dark cock, now standing even more prominently against his skin, droplets of water clinging to its impressive length and the pronounced head.

Somi swallowed hard, her gaze fixated on his erection. A slow smile spread across her face, a mixture of awe and blatant desire in her eyes. Without a word, she pushed herself up from the edge of the pool and took a step closer to him, her own naked body now just inches away from his. Her eyes made another deliberate journey down his torso, lingering on his thick cock, inspecting it with a newfound curiosity and a visible gulp.

Somi reached out, her touch initially hesitant, the tips of her fingers lightly grazing the smooth skin of Mark’s shaft. Then, emboldened by her curiosity and the clear evidence of his arousal, her hand closed around him, her fingers exploring his impressive length and girth. She gently squeezed, feeling the hard throb beneath her touch.

Her strokes started slow and deliberate, her gaze locked on Mark’s face as she began to slide her hand up and down his thick cock. She watched his reaction, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips as she saw his eyes darken and his jaw tighten. With growing confidence, her grip became firmer, her pace quickening. She explored the sensitive head with her thumb, circling the ridge and teasing the slit.

https://www.reddit.com/r/kpopfap/comments/1j9z6d7/jeon_somi/

As she became more daring, she began to use her entire hand, her strokes becoming longer and more forceful. She leaned in, her breath warm against his chest, her eyes never leaving his. “You like that, don’t you?” she whispered, her voice husky with a newfound assertiveness as she continued to pleasure him with her hand.

With a seductive look in her eyes, Somi lowered her head, her glossy lips parting slightly as she reached for Mark’s engorged cock. She slowly took the head into her mouth, her warm, wet lips closing around him with a soft sigh. Mark gasped, a wave of intense pleasure washing over him as she began to suck gently, her tongue flicking across the sensitive head.

Then, growing bolder, she took more and more of him into her mouth, her cheeks puffing out as she slid down his shaft, her warm, slick lips engulfing him almost entirely. Mark looked down at the incredible sight before him. Somi’s long, dark hair cascaded down her back, framing her smooth, bare shoulders. Her head bobbed rhythmically as she expertly worked her mouth on his cock, her hands now resting on his thighs for balance.

And then there was the mesmerizing sight of her breasts. Unrestrained, they bounced gently with each movement of her head as she sucked him. The perky mounds swayed, her nipples brushing against his thighs with each downward motion. The visual was unbelievably erotic, the combination of her talented mouth on his cock and the unrestrained movement of her naked breasts sending his arousal soaring. He felt like he was in a dream, watching the sexy idol Somi give him head with such passionate abandon, her nude body a breathtaking spectacle under the warm afternoon sun

https://www.reddit.com/r/kpopfap/comments/16ovkdb/jeon_somi/

With a sudden, primal urge, Mark’s hand shot up and roughly grabbed a handful of Somi’s wet hair at the back of her head. He used it to pull her head back, his grip tightening as he began to thrust his thick cock deeper into her mouth with each forceful movement. He could feel her gag slightly with each aggressive push, his large member pressing against the back of her throat, momentarily restricting her breathing.

Somi, however, didn't pull away. Instead, she seemed to relish the roughness of the encounter. Her grip on his thighs tightened, and she met his forceful thrusts with eager movements of her own mouth, sucking him hard even as he pushed further in. Her pleasure was evident in the guttural moans that escaped her throat around his cock. Her free hand drifted down her wet body, her fingers finding the slick folds of her already thoroughly aroused vagina. She began to rub herself rhythmically, her touch mirroring the frantic pace of Mark's thrusts into her mouth, clearly loving the intense and slightly dangerous sensation of his forceful face-fucking.

Mark knew he was teetering on the edge, the intensity of Somi’s mouth and his own rough handling threatening to bring him to climax too soon. He reluctantly released his grip on her hair, freeing her mouth. Before Somi could react, he swiftly slid his hands beneath her thighs, lifting her up and off the pool edge. The sudden change in position, being lifted so unexpectedly, made Somi gasp and let out a soft, surprised moan. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck for balance as he held her suspended in the air, her naked body now fully facing his.

https://www.reddit.com/r/kpopfap/comments/1g5sosq/jeon_somi/

Holding her firmly, Mark shifted his grip slightly, positioning Somi perfectly against his hard cock. With a guttural groan, he plunged forward, driving the full length of his thick black penis deep inside her wet pussy. The tightness was immediate and intense, a searing heat gripping him from within. It was so incredibly snug, so unbelievably perfect, that a jolt of pure pleasure shot through him, bringing him instantly to the brink of climax. He clenched his jaw, focusing all his willpower on holding back, knowing he had to savor this incredible moment with the sexy idol for as long as possible.

Mark’s grip on Somi’s thighs tightened as he began to fuck her with a raw, unrestrained intensity. Each deep thrust sent shockwaves through her body, her legs instinctively wrapping tighter around his waist. He could feel the slick heat of her pussy engulfing his cock with every powerful movement, the tightness a constant reminder of her delicious grip.

He used his free hands to explore her body as he pounded into her. He cupped her perky breasts, his thumbs roughly teasing her nipples, eliciting sharp intakes of breath from her. He ran his hands down her sides, feeling the smooth curve of her waist and the flare of her hips. He even reached behind to squeeze her firm buttocks, enjoying the way she arched her back in response.

Somi met his rough fucking with enthusiastic abandon. “Oh, fuck, Mark!” she’d cry out, her voice thick with lust and exertion. “Your cock is so fucking big! It feels so good inside me, you black bastard!” Her head thrashed back and forth, her hair flying wildly as she matched his rhythm, her own hips bucking against his with increasing urgency.

With each deep penetration, she’d let out a string of loud, unrestrained moans that echoed across the pool area. “Ugh! Yes! Fuck me harder, Mark! I love the way you fill me up!” she’d gasp, her words punctuated by short, sharp cries of pure pleasure. She would often squeeze him tightly with her inner muscles, milking his cock with every contraction, driving him closer to the edge.

Her thoughts, though unspoken to him, were a whirlwind of intense sensation. His cock is so thick, so long, she’d think with a thrill. I can feel every inch of him stretching me. It feels amazing, almost too much, but in the best way possible. She loved the raw, untamed way he was fucking her, the feeling of being taken so completely. The way he’d grab her body, the slight roughness in his touch – it all added to the intense excitement. She felt completely uninhibited, lost in the moment, her only focus on the incredible pleasure coursing through her with each powerful thrust of Mark’s magnificent cock. “More, Mark! Please, more!” she’d scream, completely surrendering to the intoxicating rhythm of their frantic coupling.

Mark then lowered himself onto the edge of the pool, pulling Somi down onto his lap, his thick cock remaining buried deep within her slick, wet pussy. Somi could only groan, her head falling back as her body reacted intensely to the renewed pressure and the deep, slow thrusts Mark began to make while seated. The change in angle brought a different kind of delicious friction, and she instinctively wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, trying to get even closer.

Mark’s hands, now free, moved to her full, perky breasts. He cupped them, his fingers kneading the soft flesh, his thumbs finding her already erect nipples. He leaned forward, and began to devour her breasts, sucking and licking them with passionate intensity. His mouth moved from one to the other, drawing hard on her nipples, eliciting sharp cries of pleasure from Somi. The combination of his deep thrusts and the intense attention he was paying to her breasts quickly sent waves of sensation through her body. Her moans grew louder, more frantic, and her body began to tremble once again. Just moments later, with another high-pitched scream, Somi’s second orgasm ripped through her, her inner muscles clenching tightly around Mark’s throbbing cock as she came hard on his lap.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Somi_NSFW/comments/1kaft32/somi_marie_claire_korea/

A wave of triumph washed over Mark as he felt the intense contractions of Somi’s second orgasm gripping his cock. He was thrilled that he could bring such uninhibited pleasure to the sexy idol. He continued to thrust for a few more minutes, savoring the feeling of her still-clenched muscles around him, though Somi could now only manage weak, contented moans against his shoulder.

Finally, with a groan of his own, feeling his own climax building intensely, Mark withdrew his thick cock from Somi’s slick pussy. He held her close for a moment, their bodies still pressed together, before gently guiding her to stand at the edge of the pool. He stood before her, his still-erect penis throbbing. With deliberate strokes, he began to pleasure himself, his gaze locked on Somi’s dazed and satisfied face.

The strokes grew quicker, more urgent, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Then, with a final, powerful surge, Mark’s body tensed, and he unleashed his hot, thick load, shooting a stream of semen directly onto Somi’s perky breasts, some of it splashing up and across her pretty face.

Somi lay on the edge of the pool, utterly spent and unable to move. Mark’s warm semen glistened on her face and breasts, some of it slowly dripping down her chin and between her cleavage. Her eyes were still slightly unfocused, a hazy contentment clouding her gaze. She took slow, deep breaths, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her multiple orgasms.

Mark, his own breathing still ragged, reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. A predatory smile touched his lips as he aimed the camera at the beautiful K-pop idol lying before him, now thoroughly covered in his ejaculate. He snapped a quick photo, capturing the intimate and somewhat compromising moment for his private collection.

Somi’s eyelids fluttered open, her gaze still hazy. She saw Mark standing over her, his phone in his hand, a faint smile on his lips. Understanding dawned in her eyes, and a soft chuckle escaped her.

“You’re such a bad boy,” she murmured, a hint of amusement in her voice despite her languid state. She didn’t seem angry, perhaps even expecting something like this.

Mark grinned, pocketing his phone. “Only for you, Somi-yah.” He reached down and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. “You were incredible.”

Somi smiled back, a genuine, radiant smile that lit up her face despite the remnants of semen. “You weren’t so bad yourself, Mark.” She reached out and playfully squeezed his arm. “Maybe we can make this a regular part of my ‘workout’ routine.”

Mark’s heart skipped a beat. “I’d definitely be up for that.” He helped her sit up, the water running down her nude body, washing away some of the evidence of their passionate encounter. They exchanged a knowing look, a silent acknowledgment of the intense connection they had just shared

#kpop smut #kpop #seohyun #karina #twice #twice jihyo #twice nayeon #twice sana #iu smut #somi smut #jeon somi #somi #SOMI SMUT

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localboobsenjoyer · 29 days ago

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Breast boss 2

This ending for Breast Boss has been written by the great jorgetk9. Go follow him on DeviantArt; he writes many stories of this caliber on his page.

Stacey had become an overpowering presence since her body "adapted" to the demands of the company. She walked the halls like an untouchable goddess, each step resonating with an authority that made other women flinch. Their glances, filled with envy or fear, faded at the superiority she exuded. Not only had she kept her position; her promotion to head of the women's department had made her the driving force of the company. Her area surpassed any other in efficiency, a testament to her absolute dominance. Every time she approached your office in human resources, bringing reports she could have delegated to any subordinate, the air became thick, charged with an almost palpable energy. Her breasts, now doubled in size thanks to that girl's mysterious "donation," challenged the strength of her new tight dress. The fabric, designed to contain her, dug deep into her cleavage, and with each passing week, she seemed to be losing the battle. The edges of the dress stretched to the limit, revealing the taut skin that spilled over the sides, while the contours of her curves seemed to redefine the laws of physics.

"Here's the report," she said in a velvety voice, placing the papers on your desk as her arm deliberately brushed against one of her colossal breasts, sending a ripple of movement through the taut fabric. She adopted a dominant pose, hands on her hips, further emphasizing her figure. "So, do you have what I asked for?" Her tone was a mix of command and seduction, impossible to ignore.

You made a superhuman effort to maintain your composure, but your eyes surrendered to the sight of her cleavage. Stacey, fully aware of her power, seemed to enjoy every glance. Her breasts, enhanced by the tight-fitting dress policy, were a masterpiece you couldn't help but admire. "They look... even fuller than last week," you managed, struggling to maintain a minimum of professionalism.

She let out a low, almost feline laugh. "Oh, they are. And I'm fascinated by them." His hands slowly moved up to her breasts, squeezing them with a calculated pressure that made the fabric creak and a soft moan escape her lips, echoing sensually in the office. "I didn't just inherit her size and sensitivity. Also her growth potential. This," he said, moving her bust with a hypnotic sway, "will continue to grow for a couple more years." The fabric of her dress, on the verge of collapse, revealed taut, smooth skin that seemed to vibrate with new energy. "Now, back to business. Is she here?" he asked, his voice laden with dark complicity.

"Yes... she's about to come in," you replied, just as the door opened. A 21-year-old woman entered, her tight dress highlighting a voluptuous figure: large breasts, though nowhere near the splendor of Stacey's, wide hips, and robust thighs, marked by recent motherhood. "Excuse me, you told me to come here at this time for the interview," she murmured, clearly intimidated by Stacey's commanding presence.

"I'll interview you," Stacey announced, her smile sharp as a knife. After a series of routine questions, her tone changed, becoming more pointed. "And are you a mother?" she asked, staring at the girl like a predator assessing its prey.

"Yes, ma'am... but that doesn't affect my performance," the young woman replied nervously. Suddenly, her blouse began to dampen, dark stains spreading across the fabric. "No, not again," she moaned, covering herself with her hands in embarrassment.

"Even better," Stacey whispered, her eyes glowing with an almost supernatural hunger. "You'd better turn around," she ordered with an authority that brooked no argument. You obeyed instantly.

A blinding flash lit up the office, followed by a guttural moan that seemed to come from deep within Stacey. The unmistakable sound of ripping fabric filled the air, accompanied by a crackling that seemed to defy reality itself. When you turned, the sight took your breath away. Stacey was in ecstasy, one hand instinctively sliding to her crotch as her body transformed before your eyes. Her already monumental breasts grew at least four sizes, snapping the straps of her dress like they were fragile threads. The fabric gave way completely, releasing a pair of swollen, perfectly round breasts that continued to expand with every second. Her skin, taut and glistening, throbbed with an almost palpable energy, while subtle veins began to outline beneath the surface, pulsing as if fueling her massive growth. Her areolas widened, their pinkness darkening to a deeper, almost hypnotic hue, while her nipples thickened to the thickness of quarters, erect and quivering.

But it wasn't just her bust. Her hips, already generous, widened even further, taking on a maternal curve that seemed designed to seduce and dominate. The fabric of the dress, unable to contain them, tore at the side seams, revealing soft, smooth skin that expanded with every movement. Her thighs, now thicker and more robust, tensed beneath the dress, tearing at the lower seams until the fabric was in tatters. Every inch of her body seemed to absorb a primal energy, a "milf" force that transformed her into a figure of fertility and power. Her hips swayed with a hypnotic cadence, as if each new inch of flesh were imbued with a maternal sensuality that made her even more irresistible.

Then her nipples began to quiver, and tiny white drops oozed out, sliding down the curve of her breasts. Lactation wasn't just a detail; it was a manifestation of her new essence. The veins pulsing beneath her skin seemed to stimulate a milk production that grew with every second, her bust swelling even more, as if designed to nourish and dominate. With a final moan, Stacey threw her head back, and a burst of breast milk shot out, spraying your face with unexpected warmth. The liquid, sweet and thick, enveloped your senses. Instinctively, you ran a finger down your cheek and tasted it, marveling at its intoxicating sweetness, as if each drop contained the very essence of the maternal energy Stacey had absorbed. You turned toward the now open door and heard the sobs of the young woman being interviewed as she fled, her figure diminished, as if drained of more than just her presence. The door closed on its own, and your eyes returned to Stacey. Her breasts, hips, and thighs, now even more voluptuous, had destroyed what was left of the dress. Drops of milk continued to slide down her skin, leaving a glistening trail that seemed to highlight each new curve. "Just what I wanted," she said, still flushed from the ecstasy of the transformation, her voice thick with triumph. "I'll keep growing for a couple more years, and this milk flow... it's only going to increase." Her words were infused with fierce pride, as if her body were a trophy of her newfound power.

Suddenly, her eyes fixed on you, glowing with an intensity that made you shudder. "You know, this milf energy I absorbed... it's awakened something in me," she said, her voice low and thick with desire. "I have an overwhelming urge to breastfeed, to share this with someone who will appreciate it." She pulled out one of her breasts, the nipple dripping with a white pearl that slid slowly over her skin. She moved closer, leaning down until her bust was inches from your face, and winked. "What do you say?"

You couldn't resist. You lunged at her, your lips finding her nipple as you suckled with an almost desperate intensity. The sweet, warm taste of her milk flooded your mouth, each swallow intensifying the connection to the maternal energy that now defined Stacey. She moaned, her hands caressing your head as her body trembled with pleasure, her hips rocking slightly as if breastfeeding unleashed waves of ecstasy. Her thighs, now thicker and more powerful, tensed with each spasm, and her breasts seemed to swell even more, responding to your fervor with a steady flow of milk that enveloped you in its warmth. Stacey didn't just feed you; she dominated you, her new maternal essence transforming her into a figure of absolute power.

End.

#breast expansion #captions #huge titts #huge tiddies #lactating kink #breast envy #attribute theft #breast theft #reality change

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lotusbxtch · 1 year ago

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The Best Ride In The Galaxy - Pt. 2

Pairing: brat-tamer!Poe Dameron x f!Reader Rating: M - 18+, MDNI! Summary: You and Poe play bedroom games, but who comes out the winner? Word count: 4732

Warnings: smut with barely plot, language, name-calling (bitch, asshole, cockslut, slut) but you’re both into it, pet names (my Poe speaks Spanish which is not canon but it’s my fic damnit), brat-tamer!Poe, D/S dynamics, safeword usage, physical restraints (handcuffs), mild humiliation, “she” pronouns in reference to vagina, very brief mild physical bullying, brief light slap to the face, panty sniffing, one (1) love bite, oral (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex (be smart, be safe!), rough sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, brief fainting, creampie, established relationship, no use of y/n

a/n: I didn’t intend on writing a part 2 to my one-shot, but Poe said otherwise. Thank you to my dear sweet @for-a-longlongtime for beta reading! If you like my work, please comment and reblog! It would mean the world.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sometimes you don’t even know why you do it.

Maybe it’s the smirk he sports when he reads your mind, knows you better than himself. Maybe it’s that self-assured confidence and cockiness that gets him into trouble but is also the reason why he’s co-general of the Resistance. Or maybe it’s just because he does the exact same thing to you – pokes at you, annoys you, until you snap and he gets to play with fire.

You can’t remember how it got started, but that simmer of irritation was already burbling under the surface when he told you that he had to do a hands-on demonstration of advanced defensive maneuvers to the novice pilots in the squadrons.

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh really? You just have to? Or is it because you, Poe Dameron, cannot pass up a single opportunity to show off?”

Poe huffed and shook his head, a small smile blooming on his face. “You’re insufferable sometimes, you know that?”

“It’s because you know I’m right, you idiot,” you retorted, folding your arms across your chest. The move unintentionally pressed your breasts together, enhancing your cleavage, and you saw Poe’s eyes dart to them.

“Oh, sure, it’s not your fault that you have correct opinions and great tits, isn’t that what you always say?” he chortled.

“Fuck right off, Dameron,” you groused as you dropped your arms immediately. “Come back when you’ve stopped being a dick.” You turned on your heels and walked away, not even knowing why you’re giving him an attitude.

“At least you know I’m not unintentionally lying this time about when I’ll actually be back, baby,” he yelled in your direction as you stomped off. “I love you, you brat!”

Without turning around, you flipped him off. “Love you too, you fucking asshole! Come back in one piece!” You didn’t see him shaking his head and chuckling as you rounded the corner out of sight.

Two days later, Poe returns, right on schedule. By then, you’d spent enough time out of his presence to actually miss him unironically. You’d been going about your normal duties on base but sleeping in his empty bed at night, his scent still clinging to his sheets and helping you fall asleep without the warmth of his body next to you. When his pod door slides open, you lift your head from where you lounge on the bed.

“Hi baby!” you greet him, a warm smile on your face. You swing your legs over the side of the bed, hopping to your feet wearing nothing but one of his shirts and your lacy underwear. Those two nights had also been spent with nothing but your own fingers and toys to sate your sex drive, and much to your chagrin, it couldn’t compare to the way Poe was able to make you fall apart.

When he walks through the pod door, you feel desire flare up warm in your belly. He’s still wearing his flight suit. He knows how crazy it makes you.

Poe tracks your movements with warm chocolate eyes as you saunter over to him, putting an extra swirl in your hips to entice him. But as soon as you get close enough to feel the heat of his body, he doesn't let you go further.

“Uh-uh, bebita,” Poe says as he puts a hand out. “You were being a brat before I left for whatever reason, so you don’t get what you want so easily this time.” You pout, but don’t press the issue. He wasn’t wrong; you had been absolutely insufferable for no reason.

Shaking your head slightly, you bite your lip and let out a huff of air from your nose. “That’s funny. Judging by that tent in your flight suit, I’d say what I want also seems like what you want, flyboy,” you retort, smirking at the obvious erection at Poe’s crotch.

“Oh, you sweet thing,” he purrs, keeping his hand on your chest. “You forget that out of the two of us, I have far more patience than you.”

“Hmm, that’s not what I remember about three nights ago,” you mock-thoughtfully muse. “If memory serves me correctly, I think you were begging? Something like, ‘oh Maker, please, baby, please let me fuck your –”

“That’s fucking it,” Poe suddenly growls and grabs your hips, crushing your lips to his. Moaning, you lean into the kiss, smiling quietly to yourself that you broke his resolve.

That is, until you hear a smooth metallic shick behind you and feel your wrists suddenly encased.

You pull away from him, eyes wide. Wriggling against the restraints, you realize that he’s –

“Handcuffed you? Yes, baby,” Poe confirms to you with a smirk. “You want to be a brat? Fine, but I’ll treat you like one then.” He leans into your ear, whispering, “If you want to come, you’ll have to be my good girl.”

You scowl at him in response, but simultaneously a shudder ripples involuntarily through your body. Poe’s smirk widens at your conflicting non-verbal messages. “That’s right, honey,” Poe teases, voice syrup-sweet and thick with amusement. “You like to play-pretend that you hate being made to behave, but your pussy says otherwise.” With that, he shoves his hand up your - his - shirt, immediately coming into contact with your drenched panties.

Poe tuts mockingly. “Already so wet for me, bebita? What a little cockslut you are. Couldn’t handle seeing me in your favorite outfit and you immediately wanted me to fuck you, huh?” He slips his fingers under the elastic of your panties, smearing the tips with your slick.

“Fuck you, asshole,” you grit out, trying desperately to not grind down on his fingers, needing to chase even the slightest friction to ease the ache between your legs.

Poe chuckles darkly, a wicked smile gracing his lips. “Later, baby,” he rumbles, “only if you do what I say.” He pulls his hand back out from under the hem and slips his glistening fingers into his mouth, locking his eyes on yours as he groans at your taste. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet. Can never get enough of you,” Poe murmurs. That infuriating smirk returns to his face.

You huff. “If you like it so much, why don’t you use your mouth for something other than sweet nothings?”

Poe’s eyes darken in a flash. “You’re gonna regret that.” He rips your panties off, the sound ricocheting around the room.

“Maker-damnit, Poe, those were my favorite ones,” you pout. They cost you more credits than you usually spend on frilly underthings, but the thought evaporates from your mind when you notice Poe bringing the lacy scraps to his nose and inhaling deeply, eyes closed. A whine snakes its way out of your chest.

His eyes flutter open. “What was that, sweet thing?” Poe croons, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you.

“You’re fucking filthy,” you manage to squeak out. He drops to his knees, pulling your right leg over his shoulder, lining up your dripping slit with his mouth as he drinks in the sight of you.

“Oh honey, I’ll show you filthy if you let me,” Poe whispers. “But right now you have to do what I ask you to, okay? Because if you don’t, you won’t like what happens.”

Your chin juts upwards defiantly. “Do your worst, Dameron.”

Poe smirks. “Stay quiet for me. Not a peep until I tell you that you can make noise. And if you start moving your hips against me, I’ll stop.” You nod, but you know it’ll be a challenge. He knows exactly what to do to make you squirm.

“Do you remember our safe word?” he asks.

“Mandalorian,” you respond. He nods affirmatively.

“Let’s see what you can take, baby,” Poe rumbles, moving to trail kisses up and down your legs and thighs. You breathe in and out slowly, trying to control the nerves he’s currently setting on fire. He drags the tip of his tongue slowly in decorative little swirls across your inner thighs, locking eyes with you. Slick continues to pool in your entrance.

“How does that feel?” Poe murmurs, biting your thigh softly. You press your lips into a line, shuttering any words or noises rising in your throat. You knew better than to disobey him — the retribution would be hard and swift.

Poe chuckles. “Oh, it seems like my little slut is following directions for once. I’ll grant you a reward.” Suddenly he licks a slow, thick stripe through the very center of your soaked core, from twitching pussy to swollen clit. You swallow a whine, biting your lip. Poe’s smile turns predatory. He sucks your clit into his mouth with a lewd slurping sound, and the sudden firing of thousands of nerve endings forces your eyes closed. Poe bites your thigh in warning.

“Look at me while I lick your pussy,” he commands. You lock to his gaze immediately. “If you close your eyes again when my mouth is on you, you’ll be punished.”

You nod and Poe dips his head back down to your center, holding you up with his hands on your upper thighs, his grip firm. He licks, sucks, nuzzles, and gently nips at you, coaxing more slick to slowly drip from you as you fly closer and closer to your orgasm. Just before you can reach your crest, however, he backs off, nearly making you whine with frustration.

Poe continues to torment you like this for what feels like hours. After a particularly delicious swirl of his tongue, your eyes involuntarily roll to the back of your head and you let out the tiniest moan. Your eyes pop open just as Poe lets go of your thighs and allows your balance to waver. You feel your body lurch side to side as you desperately realize you can’t use your arms to counteract your body’s momentum, and almost fall over, but he grabs you just as you tilt dangerously sideways.

“I wasn’t joking, bebita,” Poe says menacingly. “I’ll have no problem letting your pretty little ass fall over if you refuse to follow directions.”

Nearly out of your mind with arousal and anger, you spit out, “I wouldn’t have such a problem if you would just put your fucking cock in me already like we both know you want to do!”

You both stare at each other in silence for a few moments, your face flushed pink with exertion from all of the botched orgasms, and a storm of emotions flickering across his face. Suddenly Poe gets up and drags you with him to the bed.

“You want my cock that badly, huh, you little slut?” Poe grits out, gently shoving you towards the bed. You stumble and fall sideways toward the mattress, your upper body and face bouncing off the surface humiliatingly since you have no ability to brace with your hands. You stumble back up, mouth ajar in shock. Poe’s never been this mean; you must have really pissed him off before he left for his trip. And for whatever reason, it’s making you even more wanton for him.

“Get on the fucking bed and kneel. Now.” Poe rumbles, his voice deep and authoritative. You stumble a bit to climb up without hands, having to shimmy to move your body. You kneel, sitting on your heels, your shins pressing into the soft surface as you wait for your next instructions.

Poe slowly, teasingly, walks towards the bed, stripping out of his flight suit slowly. The obnoxiously orange suit drops away, his shoes and socks long gone, and he’s left in nothing but his undershirt and boxers. He lifts the hem of the undershirt up as his biceps ripple while pulling the piece of clothing off his broad chest. He stops when his thighs hit the bed, cock lined up with your torso, and looks down at you.

“Take them off with your teeth,” he orders. You quickly comply, gripping the waistband of his boxers with your teeth and lips, pulling them down his body carefully. They peel off slowly, the task made more difficult without the use of your hands. After having to nearly fold yourself in half to get the boxers down, Poe’s cock finally springs free, achingly hard. The tip is red and angry looking, coated in a sheen of precum. You lick your lips and open wide, moving towards it. Suddenly, a warm palm is pushed into your forehead, blocking your advance. You actually growl and look up at the man holding you back.

“You think I’d give you my cock to suck as a reward for being such a demanding brat? Try again,” Poe mutters, pulling his cock away from you. You whine, your mouth watering embarrassingly.

Poe shoves the rest of his boxers down his legs and gets onto the bed. Sitting with his back against the headboard, he grabs your hips and yanks you over, forcing you to straddle his lap, his hard dick pulsing under your dripping slit.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Poe warns. Then he starts to lower you down, and your mind gets hazy the closer his cock is to making contact with you. When you feel the tip of him brush against your labia, you let out a breathy moan and try to sink down onto it. Poe grabs your hips and pulls up while pushing his down into the mattress, evading you. His smirk widens.

“Are you seriously going to make me chase your cock, Poe?” you pant, trying to force your hips down onto his to no avail.

“Brats don’t get to decide when they get what they want,” he says, “or if they even get it at all.”

He teases your drenched entrance like this another two times. After the third, you let out a frustrated huff. “Stop fucking around, Dameron, just give me your –”

Your sentence ends in a scream as Poe grips your hips and shoves harshly up, bottoming out nearly immediately. A wave of pleasurable pain hits your body like a freight train.

“I said, be careful what you wish for,” Poe grits out, his eyes flashing nearly black with desire. You whine, words unable to form in your mouth, your cunt stretched and stinging from the sudden intrusion. Poe usually warms you up by making you come at least once before fucking you, and the fact that he fucked into you without warning is also new. You eye him, your vision swimming with arousal and wariness. He keeps his hands on your hips, letting you adjust to his thick girth inside of you.

“Now, as punishment, we’re going to play a little game,” Poe explains. “You’re going to sit on my cock, and neither of us are going to move besides breathing. I can’t thrust up, and you can’t clench down. Whoever moves first, comes last.”

Your eyes flick to the ceiling as you take a deep breath. Maker, he’s going to kill you like this.

“Are you fucking serious, Poe?” you say, trying to egg him on. “You won’t ever shut up about how good it feels to be in my pussy, you’re not going to last 30 seconds before you start thrusting.”

“Are you game or not?” he snaps. “Or I could just pull out of you and leave you here high and dry.”

“Stars, you’re so sensitive today,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Fine, I’ll play your silly game even though I know I’m going to win.”

“Oh-ho-ho, bebita,” Poe chuckles. “Little do you know, some friends of mine just taught me a new technique I’m gonna try out. They said it helps them tune into The Force, but that it’ll help me from getting distracted.” You peer at him questioningly.

“Since when did you turn into a believer?” you scoff. “You know what? Game on, flyboy.”

And with that, the cockwarming games begin.

At first, it’s relatively easy. The lack of movement allows the burn from his intrusion to fade away, and the fullness is comforting. Your eyes are closed, your breathing slow. The seconds tick by. Then minutes.

Eventually curiosity gets the better of you, so you open your eyes. Poe’s handsome face comes into view, and at first you think you’re seeing things. He sits, eyelids shut softly, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. You don’t believe it, so you count his breaths to confirm your suspicions. 4 seconds in, 4 seconds holding, 4 seconds out.

Poe motherfucking Dameron is meditating.

No fucking way could the impulsive, cocky, impatient Poe Dameron actually have learned meditation and well enough to allow him to win this game. So you sit there, pussy wrapped around his cock, and wait for him to crack.

Except he fucking doesn’t. The silence and stillness begins to get to you; you feel the impending sense of doom of losing the game crawl up your back and across your collarbones. You wrack your brain to try to find a loophole… and then you do.

“Poe, baby,” you croon at him. Poe keeps his eyes closed, but murmurs an “Mhm?” in response.

“There wasn’t any rule against talking, was there?” You bat your eyes innocently.

Poe opens his eyes suspiciously. “No, but now I’m thinking I may be regretting that. What are you planning, hmm?”

You sigh, doing your best to keep your pussy from fluttering while you weave your web of entrapment. “Oh, nothing. Do you want to know what I was doing while you were gone?”

“Let me guess,” Poe responds. “Did you think of a thousand new ways to torture me or provoke me?”

“Stars, no,” you say, falsely shocked. “I was just laying in your bed, because it smelled like you, and I missed you.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Poe says warily. “What are you trying to do?”

“What do you mean?” you play along. “I’m just telling you about how my last couple of days have been and what I did to fill my time… since you weren’t around to fill me.” Still maintaining the innocent facade, you meet Poe’s eyes. He already looks wrecked. A wicked smile blooms on your face.

“Oh fuck you,” Poe grits out.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking about while I laid spread open in your bed, baby,” you whisper, staring him down. “My pussy was so fucking wet imagining you with me, your head between my legs, lapping at me like you love to do.” You hear a strangled groan escape Poe’s mouth, and you know you have him hooked.

“I was tracing my fingers gently around my clit,” you continued, “teasing it just like you do, and then rubbing it in circles. Didn’t feel as good as your tongue does though.” You let out a little moan but hold your muscles in place, pleading with your cunt to stay still. It obeys, but the slick starts seeping out of you, pooling around the base of Poe’s cock. He moans at the feeling, looking like he wants to fuck you or kill you, but unsure of which.

“I had to stuff myself 3 fingers full, fucking them hard and fast, to even get close to what you make me feel,” you whine to Poe. “I came, but it was just a little flutter, not like when you give me one.”

You look down at where your bodies are joined, and then back up into Poe’s eyes through your eyelashes coquettishly and smirk. “But you said just cockwarming tonight. So I guess I’ll just have to sit here, drenching your dick, and not rock against you, massaging you with my pussy.”

Poe’s face looks blank, and then suddenly his eyes darken. Your pulse quickens because you might have just won the game, but you also might be in danger.

“You fucking unfair little minx,” Poe growls and suddenly grips your hips hard enough to bruise. That smirk is wiped off your face a split second later as Poe lifts you slightly and then thrusts into you with all of his strength, spearing your cunt on his cock.

“You wanna play unfair? Fine. But you get to suffer the fucking consequences, you insatiable little bitch,” he sneers, fucking into you deep on the last word. Your mouth pops open in a silent scream. Of course this is what you wanted, but now? Now it’s brutal and all consuming.

Poe starts pounding up into you with no mercy, lifting your hips and slamming you back onto his lap as his cock keeps parting your channel, making you feel as if he’s splitting you in half. When you finally catch your breath, a ragged moan comes screaming out of your throat, and you throw your head back in ecstasy.

“Is this what my little slut wanted?” Poe asks rhetorically, never slowing his pace. “Needed to get this pussy pounded ‘til I rendered you stupid? Listen, baby, she’s so fucking wet, feels like she’s crying for me.” You do your best to listen to the obscene squelching and slapping sounds swirling around the room. No words leave your lips, just another loud and pathetic moan.

“Aww, poor baby can’t even say words now,” Poe chides mockingly. “Can’t tell me how good I’m making this pussy feel.” He rams in even deeper, feeling like he’s in your throat. Your cunt clenches as he hits your g-spot, sending you further into orbit. All you can utter are high pitched little mewls as he drags you kicking and screaming towards your orgasm.

“Do you feel me deep in you, baby?” Poe grits out, his thrusts continuing to devastate you. “I’m gonna make you come so fucking hard that you’re gonna pass out. You’re gonna take what I give you and you’re going to say thank you.” He punctuates the last two words with sharp thrusts that punch your cervix, adding a twinge of pain amongst the pleasure. Your head spins and your breath stutters, right on the edge.

“Please, Poe,” you beg without telling him what you need. But he knows. He drags his calloused thumb over your swollen, hard clit, drawing all of your muscles tight around him. His other hand remains tightly gripping your hip.

“Come for me. Right now,” Poe grunts, and you come with a long, whining scream. Your orgasm explodes in your core, shimmering out through your extremities, your face flushing immediately. You feel yourself creaming all over Poe’s cock. The sensation rips a growl out of his throat. “That’s fucking right, sweetness.”

You lean against his chest, sated, eyes closed. His thrusts slow down, and he moves his hands from your hips to your shoulders. Bringing you upright once again, Poe trails kisses across your face, and then suddenly, he spears his cock deep into you again. A surprised moan rattles from your chest.

“Poe!” you exclaim, abruptly pulled from your post-orgasmic haze. He continues to sink into you over and over again, hard as steel.

“You thought I’d stop at one?” Poe tuts, lip curling as he punches his dick into you particularly harshly. “No way. You’re going to give me two more before I let you rest, since you were so hungry for this cock.”

“Oh Maker, Poe,” you slur, his slick-coated shaft stretching your walls. You try to rest your forehead against his, but he smacks your cheek gently to get your attention.

“Hey, uh-uh baby,” Poe chastises. “Keep your eyes open. Who's giving you the cock you so desperately needed, huh?”

“You, Poe. Only you,” you half-sob, mind dizzy with pleasure feeling another wave begin to build inside your belly. He continues to work you open, the squelching sound of your pussy around him filling the room. Your breath comes faster and shallower as you approach your second crest, shattering into a million pieces with a squeal. Poe groans at your wet release, but he doesn’t stop hammering into you.

Tears slide down your cheeks as you struggle to keep your eyes on Poe, the pleasure nearly unbearable. Swaying slightly, your head lolls to the side. Suddenly the world is shifting as Poe flips you off of his lap and onto your back, your hands still shackled together against your back. The position puts a bit of strain on your shoulders, but you hardly care. You’re barely conscious of Poe rearranging your legs on the bed, spreading you wide before shifting you up onto his kneeling lap and sliding home once again. Low moans escape your mouth as he pushes in, hitting that soft spot deep in you that only he’s been able to find. You clench down, slightly pained.

“I can’t, baby,” you whine, Poe unrelenting in his rhythm. He looks down at you with the cockiest smirk.

“Do you need to use your safeword?” Poe asks softly, pressing deep and holding himself there. You gasp and meet his eyes. Brows furrowed, you answer, “No.”

“Okay, then hush,” he responds with a chuckle, resuming his motions. Against your belief, you feel your body working itself into a knot again with an approaching third orgasm. But this one feels different.

“Poe…” you whimper. His thrusts speed up, the opposite of what you were going to ask. “No, Poe, I think… I think —” He looks down at you with concern crossing his face, then presses down on your belly, right above your pubic bone. You squeal, feeling the pressure mounting. His smile darkens.

“Is my baby afraid of wetting the bed?” Poe teases in a singsong voice. You nod rapidly.

“Are you going to use your safeword?” He waits for a response. You just keep staring at him with wide eyes. His smile widens. “That’s what I thought. Shut the fuck up and take it.”

You keen over and over again as he keeps pounding into you. Poe slips his other hand down to your clit, thumbing it once again. His breathing is getting harsher, his thrusts sloppier. Pushing your limits creates a potent, arousing cocktail for his brain, and he rockets towards his finish.

“I’m gonna make you squirt all over yourself when you come, and then I’m going to fill up that pussy with my cum instead of the inside of my fucking flight suit,” he grits.

The filthy dialogue pushes you over the edge, and Poe feels your pussy clamp down on his cock as a strangled scream escapes your open mouth. As he pulls his cock out, you gush milky fluid all over yourself, the bed, and Poe’s lap. He hastily shoves himself back in and out, pushing another release of liquid from you each time. Poe suddenly shouts, burying himself against your cervix and painting the inside of your cunt with his cum as the world goes dark for a few moments, your hearing narrowing as if you’re in a tunnel, your breaths loud against the inside of your ears.

You come to as Poe is shaking you gently, his brows knitted together with worry. When you blink your eyes open, a sigh of relief leaves his lips. He presses soft kisses across your face, stroking your jaw with his thumbs. Rotating your wrists, you notice he freed you from your restraints.

“You did so well, bebita,” Poe croons. “Such a good girl, coming so hard for me.” You smile gently, your mind still hazy.

“I guess you didn’t reneg on your promise this time, Dameron,” you murmur cheekily. Poe huffs, a tiny smirk on his face. “You really did fuck me ‘til I passed out.”

“And you liked it, huh?” Poe teases. You nod your head. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his body. You sigh happily, burrowing your face into his sweaty chest. Legs intertwining, the two of you share breaths as you come down from your highs.

“Do you even remember why you were being a brat?” Poe suddenly asks. You look up at him and shake your head, laughing.

“No, I fucking do not,” you giggle, “but if it gets you to fuck me this hard again, I might have to be irrationally grumpy with you another time.” Poe rolls his eyes and starts tickling your sides, causing you to shriek and wiggle away, and his cum to seep out of your pussy deliciously.

Now you remember why you act up with Poe for no reason.

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#poe dameron #oscar isaac #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron smut #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x f!reader #star wars smut #oscar isaac character fanfic #oscar isaac characters

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tbgblr2 · 1 year ago

Text

The Ren Faire Situation

A birth story written in conjunction with @allkindsofpreg

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“Are you 100% sure?” I asked, not hiding the concern in my voice.

You just smiled “I’ve made up my mind, I’m going.”

We had planned for the last few weeks to go to the local ren faire, where you were looking to get dressed up and enjoy the event, whilst taking what was likely to be the last chance to show off your pregnancy enhanced curves in public before the baby comes.

The problem was, the baby was coming… contractions had started this morning, and 3 hours on, they didn’t seem to want to stop.

So here you were, dressed up in your best pirate/wench outfit, pregnancy fuelled bosom looking magnificent, enhanced by the dress, cleavage spilling out of the top and leaving very little to the imagination, your bump – oddly smaller since your belly dropped a few days ago – still prominent behind the flowy fabric. A tie caught between the two, bright and causing the eye to immediately look at the area it highlights.

I’d always known you were a bit of an exhibitionist… hell, our baby was likely conceived when I was railing you on the balcony of a hotel with a crowd cheering you on from below – but I will admit, I kind of wanted you to myself when you gave birth.

But you wanted to make a spectacle of it. Have all those eyes looking at you. You know you could make it look like it was an accident – you could even make the news - “lady gives birth in public” has always been something that got your juices flowing. And here we are – contractions noticeable but not debilitating, and we’re about to walk out the house to walk half a mile down the road to the fair – and who knows what will happen from there.

“Are you ready, my lord?” you ask in a fake old world accent, pulling the skirt of your dress to the side with one hand and holding your stomach with the other, lowering into a polite curtsy. I take a moment to enjoy the birds eye view down your low lacy neckline before offering my arm and helping you to a standing position. In one fluid motion You’re upright and pressed against me, leaning down for a quick kiss.

“My god, you’re sexy,” I murmur against my lips, hands exploring your body beneath the elaborate folds of your gown.

“Mm, just wait ‘til you see me with a head crowning between my legs.” Even the thought makes you shudder with desire as you hike up the fabric to give me better access there.

I chuckle and slide my hand up your thigh, brushing over the fabric of your panties. “We may not make it to the fair if you keep this up,” I say, applying a bit more stimulation and causing you to gasp. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to stay.”

You know I’m wary about your intentions—and honestly, I make a compelling case—but you’re only going to have one first birthing experience and this is how you want to do it. “Don’t worry, baby, it’ll be fun.” I look doubtful as you display your best pout. “It’ll at least keep me distracted.” As if on cue, your stomach tightens, and in turn you make a point of keeping your stance and expression neutral, the only indication that anything’s happening a slight change in your breathing. “See? I can do this.”

“You can do anything,” I agree, removing my hand so that the hem of your dress falls back to the floor. “Guess we should get going then.”

You hook your arm around mine and, perhaps a bit too eagerly, glide out the door.

The walk to the event was a bit slow going, considering your size, but you make the most of it with seeing various turned heads, and the occasional honk and cheer from passing cars as they see your gravid form walking down the street. You had been doing curb walking for the last few weeks to try and get things moving, and automatically fell into that rhythm, up and down, up and down as one foot landed on the curb and another on the road next to it. The added jiggle factor of your breasts bouncing up and down helped with getting you noticed of course. Let’s just say that as we turned the corner into the site of the faire, you were very flustered – and it wasn’t just due to the exercise. We stopped twice on the way for a breather and to let a contraction build and pass, but thankfully we arrived without incident.

You feel another contraction build up while we’re waiting in line for tickets, but it’s easy to ignore amidst the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Everyone is in costume, many with even more on display than you, and, not to be outdone, You loosen your own tie a bit. I notice and cock an eyebrow at you as you give me a wink—perhaps later I’ll tie you up tighter or perhaps take it off altogether; the possibilities are endless and equally thrilling. We can’t keep our hands off each other and the booth attendant has to toss a piece of popcorn at us after a few gruff coughs to get our attention. She seems equal parts amused and irritated when you request two and a half tickets as you press your hands into the curves of your belly, showing it off.

Once inside, you make a beeline straight for the giant turkey legs, dashing off before I realise, surprisingly spritely for someone in your advanced state of pregnancy considering how much walking you had done already. I soon catch up to you as you join the back of the queue - the turkey legs being one of the most popular things in the area meaning the line was always big.

You were panting a little out of breath, but smiled back at me "You're too slow."

I circle my arms around you and pull you back into an embrace, kissing the top of your head as I feel your chest raising and falling in line with your heavy breathing. We both burst into a giggle as the line slowly starts to work its way down.

As we get to the front, the lady serving the food has a wide grin on her face as you approach.

"Hey there, what can I get you and the bump?"

Entirely straight faced, you respond "Bump? Oh this? I just REALLY like the turkey legs." You emphasised the size of your belly by rubbing your hands up and down it tracing the shape under your dress.

Her face was a picture, completely unsure what to do with herself. She was stammering and clueless what to do next, in worry that she was going to offend you, but the onset of another contraction soon put paid to your charade.

You couldn't do much else than wince and rub your belly, but used it as a convenient excuse to apologise to the lady behind the counter and explain that yes, you were indeed pregnant, and you would really like 2 turkey legs. And no… one was for me - you weren’t going to just pig out on them. The baby obviously didn't like you making fun of the poor lady and gave you a kick in punishment.

I was smirking through this entire exchange but we soon got our food serving, a couple of drinks and headed off to watch a band play. As we got to the showground area, one of the local attendants brought over a chair for you to sit down on, whilst I climbed onto the ground between your legs. We sat down and had a few minutes of relaxation until you started to huff and puff a little, hand rubbing your belly.

"Starting to get noticeable I presume?" I asked. You nodded, leaned forward as much as your belly would let you so you could speak in a whisper close to me and said that when we were in the queue for food it was the first contraction which had taken your breath away. You thought it was because you had just rushed to the queue, and the strenuous activity had been an influence… but right now you're sitting down, doing nothing… and yeah, it’s now very noticeable.

"We can always back out?" I asked… already knowing your answer.

"Not a chance. Did you see how much people are looking at me, looking at the bump? This is going to be EPIC!"

We stay listening to the band longer than expected—they’re quite good, and the baby seems to like it. There are little kicks and twists that seem to coincide with the beat and our amusement begins to attract attention. You’re more than happy to let the other people in the audience touch your belly to feel it too, and pretty soon we’ve got the whole crowd dancing along. With a firm grasp of your hand and waist, I twirl and dip you through several more contractions. Another one starts up just as a song ends and I pull you into me, managing to hide the grimace on your face.

Someone comes up when the upbeat tempo begins again and asks if the little one is still boogieing in there, and you turn to her with what you hope is a smile. Clearly something about your face is off, or maybe it’s my laboured breathing or the way you’re holding your stomach, but she asks if you’re okay as you wave her off.

“Just overdid it, I think. My back and feet are killing me!”

She hums in sympathy and recalls how difficult those last few weeks always are, how you just wish the baby would get here already.

You’re smiling in earnest as you say to her, “It definitely won’t be long now.”

We go to the sword fighting demonstration next, and the people in the front graciously offer us their seats when they see your bump hovering beside them at eye level. You give them a small curtsy that turns into a very ungraceful plop down onto the beach seat. “I’m just never going to get used to balancing with this thing,” you say by way of apology to the people on either side of you, pressing in the fabric of your dress around your stomach to emphasize its impressive size. “Won’t be a problem much longer, though,” you say, giving it an affectionate pat.

I’m chosen from the audience to participate—our entrance made a bit of a scene and did not go unnoticed by the actors—you whoop and holler as they pull me on the stage. They teach me a few moves and then “challenge” me for my affections, seeming to imply that the baby you’re carrying may or may not be mine, as you somehow wind up on the small platform right along with me. I do surprisingly well mimicking the moves showed to me earlier until finally I’m at a standoff. A contraction hits hard and fast and you double over with a surprised yelp and both of us on the stage turn to look at you—to cover up the slip, you make it part of the performance, like you had feigned a labour pain to fluster him, and shout, “Quick, my love, strike while he is distracted!” The actor takes the cue and allows me to land the final blow while the two of us share a passionate kiss (which earns us a fair few whistles and applause from the crowd) before taking a bow (admittedly, you didn’t bend too low) and running off before anyone can question whether you’re really that good of an actor.

The public escapades up until this point and - after that last contraction - knowing it won’t be long until the big finale has you all hot and bothered as you pull me into what you hope is a vacant tent. You wrap a leg around me waist, your hands toying with the ties of my costume. “Got time for a little more swordplay?”

As we slip into the tent we’re giddy, giggling happily, but after a few furtive glances around to make sure we’re alone, we’re quickly getting serious and down to business. Kissing across your cleavage and up your neck has you shuddering in delight as I take a moment to lift your top over your head and expose your underwear clad body to the world. My hands explore your body as I strip you of the bra you were wearing along with tugging down your panties and leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. You’re standing there naked in front of me, glorious in your bountiful pregnant form, as you pull me close and tug down my trousers, bunching them at my feet.

My “sword” is well and truly on display as you’re licking your lips in delight as you manage to find a position you can support your body whilst leaning back against a table, opening your legs in accommodation.

My first thrust was strong, and made you yelp with the unexpected force. One of my hands grasped your hair and pulled your head back exposing your neck further to my kisses as you moaned in delight with my thrusts now slowing to a much more relaxed tempo.

You couldn’t hold that position long with the weight of the baby positioned as it was so you eventually turned and braced yourself against the table with your hands, presenting your ass to me. My knees slid between your legs and pressed lightly to the side, parting your own legs, you bobbed down into a bit of a squat to give even more access.

We scrabbled around in this position for a few thrusts into your waiting pussy but because you were quite low down it was a strain for me to keep thrusting up whilst getting the angle I needed to.

With a quick slap on your behind - resulting in the most magical squeal I’d ever heard - I pulled up a chair and sat on it as you finally lowered yourself on me - giving me free reign to enjoy your breasts and belly as you bounced.

Our groans joined each other as your approaching climax caused you to speed up your actions, my own cum releasing deep into you in a flood as I couldn’t hold back any longer. The resulting sensations tipped you over the edge as your orgasm caused you to yell out with pleasure, lost in the moment of bliss.

The sound you made must have alerted someone passing by as we heard footsteps approaching rapidly. Jumping we both looked at each other as you scampered off with an amazing high speed waddle out of the back door of the tent, as naked as the day you were born - completely oblivious to if there was anyone waiting on the other side.

I grabbed your dress and bra, pulling up my trousers but not fastening them to at least allow me to walk without tripping up. I join you outside to see that thankfully there’s no one there so I hand you over your dress and bra whilst fastening my trousers.

“I’ll need my panties too” you say “you’re dripping out of me down my leg” and that’s when we both realised that in the rush to leave I’d left them in a crumpled heap on the floor.

You shrugged “oh well guess someone will have a nice surprise… and I’ve got to deal with the leak” as you pull the top over your head - not bothering with the bra either, stuffing it tight down and pushing it into my pocket - and glance around the side of the tent in order to get back to the main show area.

We walked around and found somewhere opposite the tent we were at to check on what was happening but no one came out. They’d either dashed out before we got dressed and we missed them, they hadn’t spotted the thing we had left, or were left enjoying them - either way you seemed to be getting a thrill out of what had happened.

The next contraction took you by surprise through as you grasped onto me. I turned my head to see you visibly biting your lip to avoid letting out a scream. Suddenly there was a splash and a puddle formed between your legs. We both knew what that puddle was.

Without the cushion of an amniotic sac, the baby suddenly felt much lower, the contractions much more insistent, and the need to push much more urgent. The groan that emerged from your throat was guttural, instinctual, and you crouched down where you stood, clutching onto my forearms for support.

“Are you pushing?” I asked, slightly whiplashed between the thrills of having sex, nearly getting caught, and now this. “Already?”

You just gave me a squeeze in response, putting all your focus into breathing and controlling you volume until the contraction was over. With my help you stood back up and wrapped your arms around me, both of us still a little shaken.

Even though it came rapidly you were a little more prepared for the next one, able to maintain your standing position while your body worked to bring the baby down. You buried your head into my chest as we swayed together through the worst of it. We were hidden away, tucked in the narrow alley between tents, and any passersby would mistake it for a tender embrace. But we’d have to come out of here eventually if we wanted an audience.

There was a major show going on at the moment—something with jousting and fire and circus performers—and we made our way toward the back of the crowd. The skirt of your dress was large enough that it obscured the worst of your awkward, bow-legged waddle, but it was still a slow process. Your hand never left your belly, as if supporting it from the base would somehow relieve some of the force of the pressure bearing down within it.

Most people’s attention was on the performers, but we did garner a few nervous glances as those closest to us saw your restless shifting form and heard your grunts.

“Are you alright?” asked one of them, who was wearing a ridiculous feathered cap and carrying some sort of wooden instrument, eventually whispered when you were bent over and gasping after a particularly brutal contraction.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and a strained, “Fine.” They glanced to me for confirmation; I shrugged, but couldn’t quite hide my growing anxiety.

The concerned bard remained undecided, but kept an eye on you, and when you dropped to your knees a few contractions later, determined that it warranted a trip to the medical tent. The bard tried to help you back to your feet, but you had decided that you weren’t going anywhere. You screamed when they tried to lift you, loud enough to stop the production mid-charge, and all eyes in the large stadium turned to gape at you. “I’m- I’m having a baby!” you yell, for the sake of anyone not close enough to see what was happening.

The elaborate ties of your dress were already loosened and askew from our previous activities, so it was easy enough to subtly work the laces and slide the fabric from your upper body. It looked like an accident when the heavy textiles fell dramatically around your kneeling form, exposing your full, heavy breasts and huge belly. I knelt beside you, as if making moves to preserve your modesty, but you lurched forward suddenly onto your hands, the dress falling down your thighs and exposing the rest of you.

The restricting fabric prevented your knees from widening as they needed to, and you begged me to get it the rest of the way off you. I helped you crawl forward a step and as a result your legs were blissfully free, but this position hid the spectacle from your audience.

You grabbed for me and held as you got your feet under you, lowering into a deep squat with your breasts, belly, and pussy facing out toward the crowd. You moved my hands to your inner thighs, forcing them open wider and pulling open your dilated folds, and pushed.

The realisation of what just happened seemed to ripple through the crowd - the immediate people around us either recoiling in shock, or many grabbing their phones and hitting record.

As much as you were incredibly turned on by the attention you were getting, the force of the contraction making you to push out our baby was a significantly more pressing concern. You bellow out, completely uncaring who hears it “this hurts more than anything I’ve ever done… labouring all day… it’s just…” your voice was cut short as you simply howled in pain as your eyes closed and you bore down, desperate to move the blockage between your legs.

As the contraction began to fade and you started to regain your senses your head turned towards me, you had tears in your eyes. “Help me” you managed pitifully.

I managed to lean in close to you so my whispering voice could only be heard by you “how are you feeling? Is this just an act or does it hurt?”

“It fucking hurts…” your reply had tones of desperation in it. The next contraction was quick to pick up and you were soon pushing again, a bulge visible between your wide splayed legs suggesting the head was going to be very big.

“Here here now you poor baby, let’s see if we can help you” came a voice. I looked up, and you managed the same to see an older woman - 60s or older - pushing her way through the crowds and trying to force - unsuccessfully - to make those recording the spectacle on their phones stop and give you a little dignity.

She grunted with exertion as she kneeled down between your legs, her hands reaching down to the bulge, surprisingly chilly against your hot, distended skin. You shivered - I was trying to work out if it was through the ministrations of the lady who walked up touching your sensitive areas, or you had just orgasmed from the attention you were getting.

“I’ve pushed out 8 babies myself and caught 5 grand babies from my daughters” she offered “so these hands are good hands and know what to do.”

“What do I do?” you asked, echoing her words back to her.

She chuckled and gave me a wry smile. “In my experience—and from the looks of it, yours too—whatever your body tells you.”

“Oh god,” you groaned, the pressure bearing down between your hips insisting that you bear down with it. “I need to- I need—“

“Baby’s head’s right there, I think you’re safe to push whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m not ready! It wasn’t supposed to be like this; there’s so many—hnghhh, fuck—people!” Your words dissolved into moans as you yanked desperately against my flared knees, but all that did was pull taut your skin and emphasize just how small your opening was in comparison to the large head bulging behind it.

“That’s it, let it stretch,” the woman soothed, running her fingers along the edges of the modest crown. You pressed yourself into her touch and she hummed in recognition. “Nothing to be self-conscious of here, dear. Do whatever feels good for you; it’s all natural.”

You brought your fingers to your clit and rubbed a few quick circles before the stimulation became too much. You cradled your belly as you pushed, but your hands soon wandered to your breasts, your nipples, and the resulting whines were a mix of pleasure and pain.

“It’s too big!” You wailed between pushes, looking to me in desperation. “It hurts. It’s burning, please, do something.”

I looked to the woman and she shrugged. “She’s the boss.”

I looked warily around at the many pairs of eyes fixed on us, but they faded into the background as soon as I wrapped my body around yours. You took one of my hands in yours and guided the other one between your legs as another shot of pain jolted out from your stomach, up your spine and through your hips. I thumbed gently at your sensitive nub and explored the changes in the folds that I knew so well.

“Help me stretch.” came your plea.

I dipped a finger under your stretched skin, gently tracing the cap of our baby’s head. Another contraction started and you pushed, my fingertips spreading you open even wider than the head. I pulled away quickly at your pained yelp, but it had helped—the head was staying put now, even between pushes.

“It’s stuck, it’s- I’m going to tear!”

“Oh no you don’t,” the woman said, getting her hands in the way between us, taking back up their work with the emerging head. She placed her palm flat against the exposed crown, applying a fairly firm pressure to keep it from coming out even as I continued to stretch painfully around it—prolonging the torture. “Pant. Pant, now,” she instructed.

“Please, I need to push, let me push!” you whined, unable to resist your body’s urges. You bore down again, but she just pressed in harder as you cried out as the two impossible pressures clashed right at the peak of your pain.

I had managed to get myself out of her way and resulted in getting directly behind you. You shoved your hips back, desperate to retreat from her iron grip, and your ass rubbed against my hard cock. You hear me whisper a string of curses and ground harder against my hips—if you had to suffer on the precipice of release, so would I.

You shuddered and relaxed a bit as the contraction waned, and the woman likewise relaxed her grip against you. There were a few gasps as she pulled her hand away and the crowd got an unobstructed view of the massive crowning head.

The view of a couple of flashes from people’s cameras were ingrained in your mind as you sit there, panting, the few moments of respite between contractions giving you little time to pant through and get some energy back before you needed to push again.

You leaned back against me, rubbing my engorged cock between your body and the fabric of my jeans. I let out a little groan as I felt myself approach my own little precipice.

The next contraction ramped up though and more of the same happened again - the desperate need to do nothing else but push, and this random stranger lady pressing back against all your effort.

You lost it as the frustration toppled you, all focus on the pain radiating between your belly and your legs, and this woman who was actively trying to make it harder for you.

“Let me push!” You screamed between gasps of the contraction as she just tutted at you.

“Don’t be a baby dearie” she took it in her stride. “I’ll let you stretch nice and slow so you don’t tear. You have a big one here.”

“Please!” You gasped, “Please… I’ll tear, I just need it out and you’re stopping me.” The last word was a chilling wail.

Despite your obvious discomfort my own sordid desires were being tweaked simply by the amount of effort you were putting in. Your body pressed back into me as you undertook push after push, my cock getting rubbed more and more.

I felt myself release as you wailed out. My cock pulsing and throbbing as each squirt filled my underwear. I felt it run down my leg. I pulled you in close grabbing your hands and crossing them over your chest pulling you tight against me as I hoped that there was no evidence of the leak on my trousers with all the cameras trained on us right now.

My shiver wasn’t missed by you as you look up in my eyes, meeting me with a weary but loving grin, for a few moments you smiled until the smile was replaced by a scowl as once more it was time to push.

Your body twisted and trembled as the war against instinct continued. Your hands grasped at nothing as you sought an outlet for the pent up energy you couldn’t focus into your core—your fingers clawed at my hair, the grass, the fabric of your discarded dress, the tight skin of your stomach.

“Fuck this hurts,” you huffed, more for me than for the onlookers. Then, louder, “Another contraction, already?”

You reached a shaking, tentative hand between your legs, brushing the woman’s aside and winced as your fingers grazed the tender flesh. It bowed and flexed with the force of the contraction alone and you whimpered as your lips peeled slowly back around the widest part of the head.

“Alright, now we’ve got ‘em right where we want ‘em. Give it all you’ve got, honey!” I almost hissed the words trying to keep it quiet enough that only you could hear.

In your opinion, sweeter words had never been spoken and wasted no time putting your chin to your chest and giving a hard shove. In a cruel twist of fate, the baby now seemed content to stay right where it was. You tried again, pushing harder this time, and howled in frustration when it didn’t budge.

“Come on now, girl, push!” came the woman, I had echoed something similar.

“I’m trying, it’s- fuck, it’s really stuck!”

After another two contractions of stalled progress, she finally believed me. “How about we get you on your feet,” she suggested. “Come on now, help her up,” she prompted, but I froze, keeping you tight against me.

“My- I can’t,” I whispered frantically in your ear, and you nodded— you understood.

You waited for the next contraction, took a deep breath, and leaned forward putting everything into the push, making an effort to make sure that the lady’s hands wouldn’t get in the way of this push. Your hips lifted just enough so they were hovering on top of my crotch and you screamed, all the anxious and excited attention fuelling another mighty push as the head shot out the rest of the way with an impressive gush of fluids… which sprayed across the entire front of my trousers, concealing and blending with any other stains that might have been present.

“Fuck,” you gasped, both in surprise and relief, as you got the rest of the way to your feet. Then an agonized, “Fuck!” as the baby spun and the shoulders settled quickly and violently into place against your tortured hole. You bent my knees and braced your palms against your thighs as you started to push again.

The lady beckoned me forward and I dashed around from behind you to kneel in front, hands poised in place just under the dangling head of our baby.

Now at eye level with your pussy, I watched as the shoulders bulged and gravity threatened to pull the heavy child the rest of the way out. “What should I do?” I asked the old woman, though my eyes never left you.

“Catch!” she said with a laugh, and I raised your hands just in time for the baby to slide into my grasp.

Your yell of triumph was magical as the vernix-covered baby slid into my hands, the lady, unexpectedly diving forward to catch you under the arms as you sagged, threatening to collapse with the effort. You were gasping, panting for air, you were shell shocked, but one thing was clear – you had realised you had done it. My god you were grinning.

The lady helped lower you to the ground as I held on for dear life to our baby – a daughter – my eyes weirdly focused on the umbilical cord connecting the small bundle in my hands to your gaped opening.

“Shit” was all I could mutter.

“Shit, indeed” you echoed.

You realised a blanket was suddenly placed over your shoulders as paramedics arrived, covering you up from the gawping onlookers. You’d done it. You had your dream. You’d given birth in front of a crowd. No doubt Youtube and who knows what other sites will be flooded with footage of this tomorrow. At least we know we will have a record of our birth.

The baby was taken from me as her umbilical cord was cut, and she was checked over. I sat next to you in a daze as paramedics helped check you over.

You leaned in close to me as you kissed me and then got very close to my ear, whispering so no one else could hear. “We need to go one better next time. We live stream to the entire internet !”

#birth kink #fpreg #birth #pregnancy #labor kink

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subbmissivesuccubus · 7 months ago

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Tease

Summary: Xiao was on a date with his lovely girlfriend, trying to keep things civil but after one too many attempts at teasing him- he decided he wasn’t going to hold back anymore.

A/n: Another Patreon request~

Xiao was tensed.

People wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at his usual stoic face,

But he was tensed.

He grit his teeth and tried to not tap his foot in agitation, trying to look anywhere but at you- bending over in front of him.

“Ah! Got it!” you cheered as your straightened yourself up, showing off to Xiao the hair pin you had dropped on the ground. You dusted it off a bit, pushing away the dirt stuck to it before you clipped it back into your hair with an innocent smile on your face.

“Does it look ok?” you asked your boyfriend, turning your head so he could make a proper decision. The Adeptus simply grunted and gave you a kurt nod, but that simple response was enough to satisfy you. With a sweet giggle, you grabbed his hand and continued walking, the two of you enjoying the scenery of Liyue’s mountain paths.

Xiao let out a sigh, squeezing your hand tightly and trying to push down his feelings.

Fuck- you were not making this easy for him.

The two of you had started dating quite recently, only a month in fact, and while Xiao prided himself in being a man who is constantly in control of his emotions- he could feel himself losing that control around you.

All day today, you kept getting into situations that made the blood rush to his face. You were wearing a deliciously skintight shirt and skirt combo that hugged your curves in all the right ways, your makeup done in a way that enhanced your already beautiful features. If you didn’t look stunning enough, you always seemed to find yourself in situations that really tested his resolve.

Whether it was dropping your hair clip and bending over right in front of him, your skirt doing wonders for the shape of your ass. Or when Xiao was sitting down on a rock and you leaned over him to pick a leaf out of his hair- only for his eyes to fixate on your chest and the dangerously low neckline that gave him a view of your cleavage. Or when- right after you picked the leaf out- you lost your balance and fell onto his lap, your weight on him so comfortable yet so- so enticing that all he could do was freeze in place while you apologised and got off of him.

All day, you kept turning him on and he had to grit his teeth and prevent himself from just pouncing on you. Now, as your relationship was quite new- and it was a very long time since Xiao last had a partner- the two of you decided to take things slow. Even though you spent a lot of time together, the farthest the two of you have gone is kissing and while Xiao was aching for more, he didn’t want to push. He decided he’d wait for you to say something.

But…today was killing him. And he didn’t know how long he could hold onto his dignity.

As the two of you walked together through the Liyue forests, nobody else around, he tried his best to collect himself only for something else to happen.

“Oh, look at how pretty that flower is!” you gasped as you looked up at a tree, beautiful white flowers blooming from its branches. Before Xiao could even make a move to get it for you, you immediately ran upto said tree and started climbing it.

“Wh- hey!” Xiao chastised as he ran after you, hoping that he’d be able to help you if you fell, “Don’t just go running off and-“

Oh. Oh boy.

He was looking right up your skirt.

He didn’t mean to! But how could he not when you were climbing up a tree, right above him? The skirt wasn't riding up your plush ass but even so, the black thong you were wearing was visible, wonderfully shaping your butt and pussy, the fabric almost lodging between your pussy lips.

Xiao felt his resolve break.

“Got it!” you cheered, picking the flower from it’s branch before making your descent, barely getting a foot down before Xiao crashed into you and pressed your lips together. You squealed at the sudden action, your eyes blinking before closing as you enjoyed the lip lock, gasping into his mouth as he slid his tongue against yours. The flower you just picked fell to the ground forgotten as the two of you made out, Xiao pushing you against the tree.

“Xiao?” you called out to him once you broke apart, your eyes glazed over as you made eye contact, “Wh-Wha…”

“I…” Xiao growled, trying to string his thoughts together and explain his sudden change, “I…Fuck- I want you. I need you. The whole day today- you’ve been testing me and I just can’t take it- Mmph!”

His sentence got caught in his throat as you suddenly grabbed him by the jaw and pulled him down for a filthy kiss. He groaned against you as he felt your tongue slide into his mouth, the Adeptus getting a hand up to grab you by the back of the head and thread his fingers into your hair. The two of you made out against the tree, only pulling away when you needed to breathe but even then, Xiao was peppering your lips with kisses.

“Fucking- finally!” you gasped out just before Xiao tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth. He furrowed his brown and pulled away, confused by your words. You simply giggled at this expression, loving the look in his eyes. “I- fuck- I want you too.” You told him, hands now running down to his arms and gripping his biceps, “I want you to take me- to fuck me wildly! I know you want to as well but you’re holding yourself back.”

“I…I-“

“Don’t hold back, Xiao.” You said, now moving your hand down to his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it before lifting it and placing it on your neck, making his cock twitch as his fingers immediately tightened around you, the blush on your cheeks clearly telling him you were loving this.

“Fuck me. However you like.”

With a hiss, Xiao clamped his hands tightly around your neck, pulling you in and smashing his lips against yours passionately. He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care that the two of you were in public. He didn’t care that anybody could walk in on them. He needed you and he needed you now.

“Naughty girl.” He growled once he pulled away from you, pushing you back against the tree, “Was that why you were teasing me all day today?”

You grinned a foxy grin, telling him all he needed to know. Xiao clicked his tongue, his other hand under the hem of your shirt, feeling you shiver against his touch as he pushed his hand against your bare stomach.

“Next time, use your words and ask me.”

“But then-“ you said, voice soft thanks to Xiao choking you, “I wouldn’t have seen you like this- ah!”

You gasped as the man reached your chest, your shirt bunching up on his arm as he groped your right tit, your flesh filling out his palm perfectly. No more words were needed or necessary, the two of you just needing each other.

Xiao gave your neck a final squeeze before he let go, scoffing as you took in deep breaths but you were still cognizant enough to raise your arms as he tugged your shirt off of you. His eyes ran over your body, both of his hands on your chest, still groping you over your lace bra.

“X-Xiao- more-“ you begged, arching your back to push your breasts farther into his touch, him being so close to you making you feel hot and so, so needy. Just as needy himself, his hands slid to your back and unclipped your bra, grateful that he didn’t fumble it as he tossed the item of clothing onto the ground. You shivered as the cold air of your surroundings hit your skin, pebbling your sensitive nipples while still feeling the warmth from your boyfriends body. Xiao stared at your bare flesh for a few seconds, taking in the view before he leaned forward and planted his lips against your neck.

You groaned and tossed your head back, closing your eyes as he started to trail downwards, his lips gliding over your skin, hot tongue taking little licks. He finally reached your chest, Xiao snuggling his nose into the fat of your breast before he opened his mouth wide and took your nipple into his mouth. Your gasped, hands grabbing at his dark green hair as he gently suckled on a nipple, your other breast in his hand. He groped you wildly, eyes closed as he felt the sensation of your hard, sensitive bud against his tongue and he felt like he could suckle on you forever.

There was something so soothing yet sexy about having his mouth on your tits, the softness and warmth of your body emanating and warming him up as well. He could feel the blood rush to his face and especially his cock, his member hardening in his pants. He pulled away from your nipple with a pop, satisfied at how hard and sucked raw it was before he moved to the other breast, ready to give her the same treatment as well.

He pulled away once again when you tugged at his hair harshly, groaning as you kissed him before you said: “I want more…”

“…then I’ll give you more.”

“I-“ You said, blinking at how brash he was, taken aback at how different he was. But before you could say anything else, he grabbed your hand and placed it between his legs. You gasped as you felt his erection through his clothes, your pussy throbbing as you gently groped as his hard cock, feeling how hot it was even through the fabric. Xiao groaned as he finally got your hand on him, a shiver running up his spine.

“Keep going…” he said, watching intently as you got both your hands to his pants, shaky and excited fingers tugging at the buttons and zips. While you slowly undressed him, Xiao did the same, giving your tit another grope before he went to your bottom half. He unclasped your skirt just as you did the same to his pants, both of your clothes falling to the ground practically at the same time. Too driven by pleasure to take in the view, both of your underwear’s followed immediately after, crumpling onto the dirt. You bit your lower lip as you were completely naked out in the open but your embarrassment was overshadowed by looking at Xiao’s body. His cock was throbbing hot, angry veins thrumming in excitement. Pre cum dripped from his tip, just begging to be licked away. Xiao’s face was adorably red, the man blushing from being exposed like this but he too was overtaken by the excitement of your first time together.

His hand trailed between your legs, waiting for you to give him a nod before he touched you. You mewled, tossing your head back as his pretty fingers touched your flower directly, giving you a few rubs before his fingers slid between your pussy lips.

“Fuck-“ he growled, choking back a moan as you suddenly grabbed his member, giving his bare cock some friction, “you’re so wet~ You really want this, don’t you?”

“Yes!” you squealed, body jumping each time he swiped his fingers over your clit, Xiao smearing your wetness all over your aching bud, “I want you so badly!”

“Patience, pretty girl.” He said, also trying to tell himself to be patient, “I need to- fuck- prepare you for me…”

With a gulp, you spread your legs a bit more, gasping when he pressed his fingers against your entrance. You shut your eyes, hands gliding over his member like on autopilot as he pushed a finger inside you. You could hear him gasp from the sensation, Xiao pumping his fingers gently in and out of you. You felt his cock throb against you, more pre-cum leaking from his red tip as he soon slid a second finger inside you.

“You’re so…tight…” he groaned as he scissored you open, your slick practically dripping down his hand, “Can’t wait to have this pussy squeezing my cock~”

You moaned at his dirty words; eyebrows furrowed as he curled his fingers inside you just right. “D-do it then! I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Yes- I’m sure!”

Normally, Xiao might have teased you a bit more as payback for what you did to him, but at this point, he didn’t have the patience for it. Gently pulling his fingers out of you, he took a greedy lick of his slick digits, both of you groaning as a response. You tasted absolutely divine and he couldn’t wait to get a chance to shove his face between your legs and eat out your sweet flower. But for now, he’d settle for getting right into the fucking.

Xiao grabbed your right leg, fingers sinking into the plush of your thigh before he pulled it up, making you wrap said leg around his waist while your left continued to stand on the ground, supporting your body. With a lick of his lips, he used his other hand to grip at the base of his member, feeling the heat emanating from your slick cunt as he pushed himself closer to you. He trembled as he pressed his cock against your pussy, gliding his cockhead between your pussy lips before finally pressing against your entrance.

“Baby…Ready?”

“Please-“ you mewled, body shivering as your placed your hands on his neck, caressing whatever skin you could, “Fuck me~”

Without a word, Xiao pressed his hips forward, both of you jumping as his cockhead pushed against your dripping entrance. Waiting with bated breath, his grip on your thigh tightened as he finally, finally, pushed inside you. His mouth was open in a loud gasp, his eyes widening as his cock pushed inside you, finally connecting the both of you in the most intimate way possible. Eyes glued to the spot where you were connected, he pushed and pushed, cock splitting apart your heavenly walls. Your pussy was clamping down on him deliciously, your hot, wet, ribbed walls hugging his member so tightly- it was tough to bottom out. But once he managed to do it- it felt like he was in heaven.

Bodies pressed impossibly close to one another, Xiao wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in close as he gave you a second to get used to feeling his cock deep inside your cunt. You were babbling against him, your words muffled as you pressed you face against his neck, your eyes rolling to the back of your head from the sensation of his long, fat cock stretching you open. His top was kissing your cervix, the position making him drive even deeper. His heavy balls throbbed against you, just waiting to unload deep into your womb.

And you couldn’t wait. Neither could he.

Xiao grit his teeth and slowly dragged his hips outwards, hissing as he felt your ribbed walls trying their best to keep him inside. Pulling out until just the tip was inside you, he then drove his hips forward once more, making you help from the sensation. Each time he pulled back and thrust in, he picked up the pace and the passion, the ferocity of his thrusting increasing. You tightened your grip on his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life as he pounded into you, his cock leaving you breathless. You bit your lower lip to stifle your moans, remembering that the two of you were in public and could be walked in on by anybody curious to know where those filthy noises were coming from.

But he wasn’t making it easy for you. Perhaps this was his revenge?

“Oh baby- fuck- you feel so fucking good-“ Xiao growled as he settled into a fast tempo, his balls swinging and slapping against you each time he thrust in, “Love this pussy~”

“Fuu-uu-uck!” you babbled, voice jumping from the force of your boyfriend thrusting into you, your tits bouncing up and down from the force, “Xiao- Xiao- Xiao!”

“Keep saying my- mmph- name, love.” Xiao said, his name sounding like a beautiful prayer in your voice, the nasty sounds of your passionate fucking echoing through the air, “I love it~”

“Y-You’re fucking me s-so good, Xiao!” you squealed, bringing a hand down to grab at your own bouncing breast and squeeze, wanting to tether yourself to reality somehow as your boyfriend was trying his best to make you lose your mind. He couldn’t help but grin at the sight, his mouth drooling as he watched the fat of your breast spill between your dainty little fingers.

Fuck. He needed to add suckling your nipples as one of the many activities to do with you. Right after eating our your pussy. He’d also like to have your mouth on his cock-

A particularly loud screech leaving your mouth snapped Xiao out of his daze, the man worried for a second and he wondered if he hurt you- only to realize it was the opposite. He had found your spot. With even more passion, he grabbed onto your left leg and pulled, giving you no choice but to wrap both of your legs around him, Xiao essentially carrying you in the air. He wondered if the tree bark would be uncomfortable for your naked back but with the way you were begging for more and pulling at him- he was confident you’d try to kill him if he stopped.

“yes- yes- yes- ah -ah- oh my- fuck yes!” you babbled, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the new position somehow drove the mans member even deeper inside you, each thrust making it push against your g-spot, bullying it incessantly, “Oh fuck- m’ close-“

“Touch that pretty clit for me, baby.” Xiao ordered, feeling his own balls clench at the familiar sensation of an orgasm, “I want to feel you cum all over this fucking cock!”

You nodded your head, mouth open and needy as your hand slid down to your pussy, hissing from the overstimulation as you swiped your fingers over your sensitive bud over and over again, rolling her around in circles. It didn’t feel as good as Xiao’s fingers on you, but this would suffice. The man hissed as he felt you somehow get even tighter around him, pussy squeezing the life out of his cock. But he continued thrusting, determined to get you to finish before him. And he didn’t need to wait for long.

“Cu-cumming- cumming- oh fuck me- fuck- Xiao- Fuck!!”

With a piercing shriek, you came all over him. Tossing your head back against the tree, your orgasm hit you so hard, you forgot how to breathe. Your legs shot out from where it was wrapped around your man’s waist, toes curling as your back arched, Xiao still having a good hold on you despite all of your writhing. He continued to thrust as he helped you ride out your climax, waiting until he heard you whine from the overstimulation before he gently pulled out.

“Think you can take me in your pretty mouth, love?” he asked as he gently set your legs down, smiling a bit as you nodded, your expression fucked out and dopey even as you got onto your knees. He grabbed you by the chin with one hand, his other one furiously jerking off his slick member. The glide was sloppy and messy- just perfect. You blinked before opening your mouth wide, groaning as Xiao slid his cock into your mouth. It was an interesting sensation to taste your wetness along with Xiao’s musk but it was a flavor you instantly loved.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Xiao started pumping his hips into your mouth, his own mouth open and moaning as he fucked into your face. You mouth felt incredible, your greedy throat slurping him down like a pro. It only took a few pumps before he came with a shout, shooting his seed into your mouth.

You moaned around him as he suddenly filled your mouth with his seed, ropes of hot, thick, white liquid shooting from the tip and down your eager throat. You drank his semen down obediently, not a word or whine of protest as you aimed to make him feel as good as he made you feel. Xiao tossed his head back and sighed, eyebrows furrowed as his legs twitched with pleasure, his balls flexing as he pumped his load inside you.

Next time…sucking your nipples…eating you out…cumming inside you pussy…

Eventually, once his orgasm washed over him, he gently pulled out of you, his thumb pulling at your chin a bit to make you open your mouth. You did as he expected, even sticking your tongue out to show him that you drank down all of his cum.

“…Good girl.” He said, not missing the way you instantly smiled, your eyes brightening up. “Yeah? You like me calling you a good girl, love?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” you asked, giving him a wink to which he snorted.

“So you want me to call you my good girl?”

“Yes please~”

“See?” he asked, giving you a hand to help you back up onto your unsteady feet. Once he was sure you wouldn’t topple over, he got to work picking up all the discarded clothing and getting dressed up.

“Next time you want something,” he continued as he helped you button up your shirt, “You ask. Understood?”

“Mmhmm!”

“Good girl.”

~~~~~

#subby writes #genshin impact smut #xiao genshin impact #xiao smut #xiao genshin x reader #xiao x reader #x reader smut

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vampstarkey · 6 months ago

Text

· ⁺ 𝅄 ּInside the car // Rafe Cameron ּ๋ ⭒

Masterlist

Synopsis: During a ride back to Rafe's house, he suggests an unexpected idea, fucking in the car.

♱𝅼 Warnings: car sex (obviously), cowgirl, neck sucking, titty sucking, unprotected sex & masturbation.

♱𝅼 Note: I didn't review this, I did it in the morning drinking my coffee lol, anyway I hope you like it. 😭

───ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ──

— Rafe, we can't do this here, it's risky, someone might show up. — Your rational thoughts told you it wasn't a good idea, but your body responded differently.

— Come on, who's going to show up here in the middle of nowhere? — His hand rested on your leg, giving you a little caress.

The rain was falling heavily outside, Rafe had stopped the car in the middle of the road. It was late, the chances of anyone showing up were minimal. The car window was completely fogged up by the moisture from the rain, leaving a comfortable space.

— Besides, it's dangerous to drive in this rain. — He finished as he settled into the front seat.

— You're great at winning me over — You replied and then rolled your eyes at him.

That was enough for him to act. With one free hand, he touched your waist, giving it a firm squeeze.

— I think it would be better if you sat on my lap, kitten. — Rafe patted his lap a few times, indicating that you should come over to him and sit there.

Without delay, you did so. You got up from your seat and adjusted yourself on Rafe's lap. The blond's hands went up to your ass, caressing it through the tight dress that hugged your curvy body.

— Damn, I've been wanting to touch you like this since morning. — Rafe was a pervert when it came to you, anything you did had an instant effect on him.

— You pervert. — Your laughter continued in his car. Your arms went towards his shoulders, resting there.

Rafe's jeans were getting tighter and tighter, the fact that you were sitting on his lap only reinforced this even more. Being the naughty girl that you were, you soon began to move, rubbing your ass on his hard member.

— For someone who was thinking before, now it seems too comfortable. — Rafe bit his lip, feeling you grind on top of him. His eyes didn't leave you, he was hungry.

— This is because of you, you're the one who does this to me. — You replied, fighting him back. Your pussy was already getting soaked, feeling the hardness beneath you.

He continued to squeeze your ass, creating friction between his cock and your wet slit. He could feel your wet panties under your dress. Your dress was quickly lifted, giving him a view that left him bewildered. You were wearing black lingerie that hugged your body and enhanced your figure. The cleavage on your breasts was exaggeratedly large, the boy couldn't help but notice.

— It must be a sin to keep all this hidden. — The sentence came out in a playful tone. Rafe groped your breasts eagerly while still rubbing his cock against you over the thin fabric.

Unable to contain your excitement, you pulled his shirt up, revealing the sculptural body he had, it was your downfall, without a shadow of a doubt.

— Baby, I need you so much. — Your voice came out slurred and sly. Her words were filled with malice in the air.

Rafe took his fingers to the clasp of your bra, undoing it in a hurry, now touching them without anything to cover them. Without saying anything else, he brought his mouth to your breasts, sucking and playing with your hard nipples. He ran his tongue over the length of your areolas wildly as if he were hungry. Your body reacted to every touch, the sensation was delicious.

— So tell me what you want. — Rafe stopped sucking your soft breasts and looked at your face, waiting for you to ask him exactly what you wanted.

— I want you to fuck me in this car. — You asked with those beautiful Bambi eyes of yours.

— Oh, baby... I'll give you what you want. — Rafe unbuttoned the blue jeans he was wearing without thinking twice, the atmosphere between you was so hot that he didn't think to say "wait" even once.

The pants slid down his legs and were completely left aside. Rafe pulled down his underwear, revealing his hard cock, your eyes followed towards the thickness of his member, you quickly grabbed it and touched it.

— You like it when I hold your cock like this, huh? — Your pussy blinked seeing that huge cock, you were dying to sit on it.

— I love it, baby. Ride my cock like the whore you are. — Rafe's voice came out in an almost desperate tone, he was so hard he couldn't even take it anymore.

You pulled your panties to the side, but without taking them off and still holding his member, you rubbed the head on your slit. Shivers took over your body, you moaned rubbing your hot pussy against Rafe.

— Fuck, I can't take it anymore. — Without patience, Rafe ripped your panties, he was so needy that he just did it.

— Hey, I liked those panties — You replied.

— Shut up, I have money to buy as many as you want and if I want I'll rip them all. — He squeezed the soft flesh of your ass watching that vision that was his and only his.

Without any prior warning, Rafe stuck his cock inside you, you were so wet that he slid in easily without the slightest effort.

— Oh, fuuuuuck. — You grunted, but soon began to move on top of him. That cock was fucking you so good, you just did your job like a good girl ready to satisfy the guy who made you cum so good.

You leaned on the car window as you rode him. He was fucking your pussy walls so good. Your moans became louder every time your pussy went up and down with every inch that consumed you.

— Little slut. — Rafe moaned in your ear as he held your waist, helping you with the intense riding.

He turned his attention back to your breasts as you rode him, Rafe squeezing your nipples as he watched you bounce like a bitch. Your pussy swallowed him whole, Rafe just wanted to fill you up.

— Your cock feels so good, oh, shit. — You put on a show, going up and down faster and faster on him.

The rain fell outside as you fucked each other inside the car, it was a unique sensation, you would definitely experience it more often after that day.

— What if I put my cock in hard just like that? — Rafe moved his hips up, helping you with the movements.

— Yeah, please. — You closed your eyes, feeling the pleasure of consuming. Droplets ran down your leg as you fucked yourself on that big cock. Your legs started to tremble, you pumped a little.

— My baby is so sensitive. — He continued thrusting into you while squeezing you, keeping you erect on top of him. Rafe let out a loud groan, throwing his head back.

You were both getting closer and closer to reaching a delicious orgasm. He held your cheeks tightly as his cock fucked you deep.

— Put it hard, make me cum. — You begged.

You were all limp, trying to find some sustenance as you were mounted on top of him. Rafe licked your neck as he forced his cock up inside you.

— Want to cum? Good girl. — He slapped one of your breasts, laughing like a perverted bastard.

Your pussy burned with the speed at which he touched your insides. He hit your pleasure point right on top of you and kept hitting it over and over again. You felt like you were going to explode.

— Hot slut. — He continued his movements, now moving his fingers against your clit.

— Oh baby, don’t stop. — Your hand slid down the car window, melting in pleasure.

A strong orgasm hit you both at the same time, Rafe pressed you against his chest as he came undone inside you, feeling your heat against his body as you came together.

— Fuck, baby. — He said, stopping his movements. Rafe gasped briefly, feeling his body exhausted.

— I can’t believe we did this here. — You said as you pulled out of him.

Rafe couldn’t help but laugh at your comments, but seconds ago you were fucking.

— This won’t be the only time I’ll get you in my car.

───ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ────ׂ─ִ──

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theprettynosferatu · 8 months ago

Text

New Girl

CW: Lezdom, light elements of ageplay, hucow, 24/7 service

I - Arrival

Vicky took the news the same way she took everything that came from her Mistress: with a mixture of complete acceptance, anticipation, and the need to do her absolute best to please, to be of use to that marvelous, superior being. Her body almost shivered, but Vicky stopped it in time. She had been trained to perfection, and now, naked on all fours, her Mistress’ perfect feet resting on her back, she knew she would not -could not- move. She was a footstool, not a person. She always was whatever Lucía desired her to be, nothing more and nothing less. Still, she could feel a warm sensation between her legs when she thought of what was to come. She didn’t know if it was her own mind teasing her or the prospect of further obedience- her Mistress’ desires and her own needs were one and the same, her reactions impossible to distinguish from what had been trained into her. That’s why the news made perfect sense.

A part of Vicky wondered, her Mistress’ statement echoing in her mind.

“A new girl will come here. Not like you, of course. You are my property, fully and forever. No, this girl belongs to someone else. An old friend of mine. Apparently, she has something of a rebellious streak- and I’ve been hired to make her… well, as obedient as you. And you, my doll, will assist me. She will obey me, to learn her true place. Her true self.”

Vicky felt something like pride- if objects could feel pride, that is. Of course Mistress Lucía was the greatest at turning girls into the best, most obedient, most perfectly trained version of themselves. That someone would pay her for the service was only a testament to her skill. But then again, Vicky was Lucía’s masterpiece: and in that perfect obedience, in that need to serve and please above anything else, she found her pride. Vicky was an object. A perfectly crafted object. How could she not feel a tad prideful about that?

She did wonder, however, about the girl that would arrive soon. How did some “rebel” end up in the service of an older Mistress? What need did she seek to fulfill by her servitude? The shifting of her Mistress’ feet on her back snapped her back into reality. She was a footstool. Furniture did not think.

The following day, Vicky was getting everything ready. Wearing her maid’s uniform, which showed off her ample cleavage -enhanced by surgery to make her look like the stupid bimbo she was inside- she got the drinks ready. Alcohol for the Mistresses… and fruit juice for the new girl, as commanded by Lucía.

“She needs to understand she’s a girl. Only her superiors are real women. Time for her to accept that”, Lucía had said. Even in her casual clothes, jeans and a blouse, she shined in an imposing way that made it clear that the statement wasn’t an expression of desire but a promise of what was to come.

The bell rang and Vicky dutifully opened the door, kneeling in front of the classy, modestly dressed in perfectly tasteful black, imposing older woman; thus signaling her own role as a slave to be used. The woman barely deigned to look at Vicky as she made her way in, a young woman one step behind her. Vicky, who should have been looking at the floor, couldn’t help herself and she took a glance at the newcomer.

The first thing that struck Vicky was the girl’s hair. It almost didn’t seem real, with its fiery red hues reaching almost to down to the waist, its coppery sheen and its swaying fullness. It somehow made her imposing, like a conquering queen engulfed by the flames of victory. Her short, white sundress with little pink hearts did a good job signaling what was hidden beneath it. Vicky had to confess to herself that, yes, she was a bit jealous. Sure, the new girl also had big dumb bimbo tits and a face that contrasted with them by its innocence- almost as if she embodied both the saintly virgin and the corrupt whore in one body, but that hair… for some reason it made Vicky feel something strange, dark deep inside her. Something like a need to see this girl broken. Well, her Mistress would take care of that.

“Rose”, the regal, older woman said. “My girl. For the next few weeks you will obey Mistress Lucía as you would obey me. You will serve her and learn everything she teaches you. You will be remade into the perfect girl for your Mommy. And you do want to be better for Mommy, don’t you?”

A second passed. Vicky could see something like defiance flash for a second behind Rose’s eyes, before she responded.

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Well, little Rose”, said Lucía taking a step towards her new pupil, “let’s see what I’m working with. Disrobe.”

Rose turned to look at the older woman, but Lucía stopped her with a sharp tone.

“No. Don’t look at her. Look at me. She was quite clear, was she not? You are to obey me until you are good enough to return to your Mommy. So, disrobe. Now.”

And there it was again. That little flash of defiance. Pride. Vicky could feel something growing inside her. How dared this girl not accept her place as inferior to their Goddess? Finally, she complied, and Lucía walked around her slowly, carefully, studying every inch of her naked body. It certainly was a body to behold- even Vicky had to admit that. Lucía, however, looked less than impressed.

“I see”, she said as she squeezed Rose’s naked skin, caressed it, analyzed it like a cattle buyer evaluating a new cow in their barn. “That pretty face, so innocent- and those big, slutty tits of yours… they must have been very useful in your life. Is that it? I’m sure so many people, so many men treated you like a princess… let you get away with doing whatever you pleased. That’s it, isn’t it? So what happened? You got bored, didn’t you? Bored with people treating you like a fucking queen. And you need to be treated as what you are, even if a part of you still feels you deserve better. Well… you don’t. Vicky, get up and come here. We are going to remind this cunt of a few simple facts.”

Like a puppet, Vicky leaped to her feet. Lucía’s orders were absolute.

“That pretty, pretty face… Vicky, slap her. Hard.”

The blonde bimbo’s hand moved before she could even process the command. She had never inflicted pain on someone else- and yet, something inside her drove her to put all her strength into that slap, to wipe the pride off the little bitch’s face, to show her the power of their Mistress. Maybe in another time she might have felt bad about it, but now… it had been an order, and Vicky obeyed. That was all that mattered.

Shock barely had time to set in Rose’s eyes before a second command came.

“Slave… play with this uppity cunt. Show her she’s just tits and holes, and a slave to both.”

That was something Vicky excelled at. She had been trained to perfection, after all. It was her purpose, deep down. To bring pleasure. She knew how to feel a body, how to pinpoint the weakest points, the places that sent shivers down the spine, she knew how to caress, tease, vary pressure, motion and speed to get a pussy nice and wet… and she went at the prideful redhead like an animal. Lucía watched as the first moans escaped her trainee’s lips and, almost with a whisper, started going deep inside her mind, choosing her words carefully.

“See how easy it is? You really think you have any sort of power? Of control? Silly little girl, your body is screaming the truth at you, and you’re too fucking dumb to understand it! It needs you to serve. It wants you to obey. It feels so, so good when you’re being used, doesn’t it? Because it’s what it was made for. You have those big, stupid tits because you were born to be a fuckdoll. That’s all you’ll ever be. All you ever need to be.”

Vicky’s skilled fingers could feel the effect her Mistress’ words were having on the newcomer. The girl was getting soaked, her muscles relaxing, slowly letting go.

“You think you deserve better? That you are more than just a toy for me to play with whenever I wish? Why? Because you are oh, so pretty? Bad news, sweetie: you are a fucktoy and a flawed one at that. You think I didn’t notice how your fucking ass sags? How your legs are too thick? Do you really believe you are so perfect? You didn’t even shave properly! No, you dumb slut. You are just a piece of lumpy clay to be molded. And you want to be molded, don’t you? Your body needs it. You need it. You want to accept your place, deep down. You want to be made better. You want to serve. You want to be reshaped into the perfect little empty doll you were born to be. Your cunt is telling you right now! It loves to obey. It loves to be abused. It loves whatever I say it loves…”

Without warning, Lucía struck Rose’s ass as hard as she could- which, Vicky knew from experience, was really hard. A yelp escaped the redhead’s lips.

“Even pain. Can you feel it? Pain and pleasure mixing inside you? How your body can’t tell them apart? That’s because you were born to serve, little Rose. Let your slutty body take over. Listen to it. It’s all you are. It’s what matters. And it needs to obey. It needs to… kneel.”

Lucía placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder and gently, lovingly yet undeniably pushed towards the ground. Slowly, by inches, Rose found herself going to her knees, her body obeying Lucía almost despite her own will. The way the blonde slave played with her neck, her tits, her pussy… her mind was fuzzy, weak, confused… but her body seemed to know exactly what to do, the feeling of the hand on her shoulder dictating her actions as inevitably as law. When she saw Lucía removing a single shoe, exposing a beautiful foot, she didn’t even need to be told what to do. It was like in a dream: her body went lower, acting on its own, prostrating itself before her superior. It looked like defeat. It looked like a prayer.

The moment Rose’s lips touched that soft foot, her new life began.

II - Improvement

Even Rose had to admit she was having trouble keeping up. Even after two weeks of daily service, she felt as useless as the first day. On the other hand, Vicky seemed unable to feel exhaustion at all. Dressed in identical maid outfits -or rather, tiny tops and skirts that hinted at maid uniforms- they carefully went all over the house making sure every single corner, every shelf, every inch of the floor was immaculate for their Mistress. Rose even started doubting her own eyes: Vicky appeared to see dust in places that looked, to the new girl, perfectly clean… until the blonde maid pointed out the imperfections in the cleaning, and made Rose do it all over again.

That in itself would have been hard enough, but Rose had some added weight to deal with. Literally. The weights affixed to her wrists and legs made walking, going on the floor, reaching for high places a full body exercise. By mid morning she was usually coated with a shining layer of sweat. She hated it, and yet she couldn’t argue with the results. Her body was getting more toned. She was getting slimmer. Her stamina was slowly improving. She thought about that first day, about the words Lucía had drilled into her mind. She was imperfect. That stung- but also lit a fire inside Rose. She would be the best. She would be perfect.

Of course, they were always ready to serve their Mistress whenever she desired, however she desired. Rose thought, before this new training, that she knew what service meant. She did serve her Mommy, after all. But witnessing Vicky’s level of devotion, her utter selfless ability to do anything, to be anything that was desired of her, left Rose somewhere between admiration and pain for her own inadequacy. She could feel that rebellious streak inside herself, and hated it more and more.

She was tired, lost in thought when Lucía walked in, wearing lingerie and sharp, black heels. The girls got into position: on their knees, chests out, staring at the floor. Lucía walked around the room slowly, luxuriating in her own power, before declaring, simply:

“I want to relax.”

She sat down on a beautiful sofa and with a simple gesture summoned Vicky. The bimbo knew exactly what to do, what to be. She rushed to her owner and got on all fours. A shiver went down her spine as she felt the sharp heels on her back. She was a footstool. Nothing more. It was then that Lucía did something new, something Vicky had never seen her do.

She lit a cigarette.

Rose stared at her temporary Mistress. She had never thought smoking could be sexy, but the way the smoke curled around Lucía’s face, the way her body relaxed with each puff gave her the air of a mysterious, wonderful, terrible goddess. One that fixed her gaze on the new toy.

“Come here. Can’t you see I need an ashtray, you dumb slut?”

Rose felt frozen for a moment. An ashtray? Should she find one? She didn’t remember seeing one in the house. Suddenly she felt cold fear gripping her. Fear of disappointing this perfect woman.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you? I said come here.”

Rose did as she was told, and crawled towards Lucía.

“Good. Now, on your back.”

Rose obeyed. It felt good to have such simple instructions.

“I suppose you’re too brainless to realize you’re too low to be a good ashtray, so I’ll spell it out for you once. Feet flat on the ground. Hands over your head. Now, arch your back. Bridge position.”

It was difficult. It hurt to maintain the position. And yet something took over Rose. A sort of… peace. She didn’t need to think. She didn’t need to do anything but be in the moment. Be the ashtray. Be useful. Every bit of ash that was deposited on her bellybutton only filled that need to serve more and more. Even as her muscles shook, there was nothing else in the world, nothing but the perfect sensation of being an object for her Mistress. She briefly wondered if Vicky got to feel like that all the time.

Rose couldn’t tell how long it took. Logically, it must have been a few minutes. To her, it was both a second and a lifetime. She snapped back to the present when she heard Lucía’s voice casually giving a command and getting up to enjoy the show.

“Vicky, clean the ashtray.”

The blonde slave did as she was told. Her tongue felt warm on Rose’s skin, and somehow the living ashtray felt as if this was an honor- one she had been granted without deserving it. She felt gratitude. She felt joy. She felt empty and blissful.

She would do everything to feel like that again.

III - Metamorphosis

After a month of training, Rose believed she knew, truly, the essence of service. She believed that inner spark of rebellion, which still lingered, could be managed. She believed she understood the full nature of her role.

All these things she believed mistakenly.

It was on one particularly warm night that she learned just how deep her inadequacy ran. Lucía had summoned Vicky alone a little while back, and Rose could do nothing but wait for her to be needed. She needed that. She needed to be useful. When she was finally called into the living room, she had no way to know what was awaiting her.

Vicky was tied to a wooden structure Rose didn’t recognize yet was weirdly familiar- it was certainly not one of the instruments Lucía had used on her or the blonde slut. However, its purpose became quickly apparent, and Rose understood where she had seen such things. It was a variation of farming equipment. More specifically, to keep cows still when they were being milked.

It was then that a few things clicked into place. Specifically, the mysterious medication Vicky took every day. Rose had asked, worried that her role model might need help; but Vicky had only given her a smile and a simple “you’ll see when you are ready.”

Well, she was seeing it now. Lucía was walking around her bound cow, a whip in hand. Casually, almost as an afterthought, she squeezed one of Vicky’s breasts, and warm milk shot into a small bucket, placed right under her udders. What was most strange was that along with a soft moan, Vicky said simply:

“Moooo!”

Rose understood then what true devotion meant. What true service meant. Even when her mistresses whipped her firm ass, the blonde cow only mooed, as if her brain was only capable of being, fully, a cow for her owner. Lucía looked at Rose and smiled.

“Are you starting to see? Come here, cunt. Time for you to feed.”

She understood instantly. She didn’t need to be commanded to crawl- that much seemed obvious to Rose. She was a pet. An animal. Nothing more. She went under the bimbo, let her soft lips part and took an engorged nipple into her mouth.

It was heavenly. Milk flowed into her and she felt like nothing more than a child, a stupid, ignorant thing to be educated. Rose sucked and Vicky mooed in pleasure. Their Mistress started whispering into the calf’s ear.

“Do you understand now, you dumb fucktoy? She made her body lactate because I wished her to. Her body is not hers, not even at its most fundamental level. Just like your body is not yours. Your mind is not yours. You are whatever your owner wants you to be. You don’t deserve to be more. You are a living doll, nothing more.”

Rose took it all in. As the warm milk entered her body, Lucía’s words entered her mind. They both felt right. They both felt simple, obvious. And with each word, each mouthful of the wonderful milk, every moo that reached her ears, that spark of rebellion grew smaller and smaller.

“Your owner wants you to be her perfect baby girl. Her empty doll to dress up and turn into whatever she desires. She even chose your entire new aesthetic. Your new personality. But you were too prideful to accept it. Do you still have pride? Do you still have that delusion that you are more than just her fucktoy to do as she wishes?”

Rose couldn’t speak, but a moan told Lucía everything she needed to know. The girl was finally ready.

“Pet, unbind the cow and kneel in the middle of the room. Cow, go to the corner and play with that slutty pussy of yours”

As one, they obeyed. As she waited, kneeling, looking down, Rose was ready for anything. She would do anything. She would accept anything. She would become anything for her Owner. That was all that mattered.

“You need to be made clean. You need to return to nothingness. To go back to zero, so your owner may mold you as she sees fit. And you need to finally let go of the last remaining bit of your pride. You may think it’s not there, but I can smell it in you. I see it behind your eyes, still. But don’t worry, little doll. I will make you perfect.”

The buzz of the electric clippers sent a shiver through Rose’s soul. She didn’t have time to fully process it. Instead, her eyes focused on the empty, rubbing blonde in the corner, moaning her soft mooing. And lock after lock of red head fell before her eyes, almost framing the human cow. As her hair was removed, as she started feeling the air on her scalp, Rose felt emptier and emptier. Whatever was left of her past was disappearing with every strand that landed on the floor. And the emptier she got, the more Vicky rubbed, the louder she mooed. Her will, her dignity, her entire sense of self fell, bit by bit, on that floor.

Soon, she felt completely empty. Completely at peace. Soft and ready to be remade. As Lucía shaved off every bit of hair from her body, Rose felt more and more like a newborn, like a baby, like a being that depended entirely on the will of her superiors.

“Soft and smooth. Perfect to become the little girl your owner wants. But she doesn’t want just any slave toy. No, she wants you to become something very particular… and you will do it, won’t you, doll?”

“Yes, Mistress Lucía.”

The words escaped Rose’s lips without her even thinking it.

IV - Graduation

Vicky had set the stage perfectly. At the command of Lucía, she had purchased colored lights to give the ceremony a bit of ambiance, and she had chosen the finest champagne for the women to celebrate. Champagne, she knew, she didn’t deserve to taste.

The older, regal woman sat comfortably, ready to see her new property. Lucía was confident in what she had achieved, and had Vicky between her legs, serving her perfect pussy as she chatted with her friend, not even paying attention to the dumb blonde that was doing her best to bring her pleasure.

When the time came, Rose entered the room. It was hard to believe this person was the same girl that had come into the house a month or so earlier. In many ways, it wasn’t.

It wasn’t just the clothing: black leather corset, latex boots with spiked heels, no underwear, her perfectly smooth pussy visible to everyone, a choker around her neck. It wasn’t the makeup: dark, heavy, with black winged eyeliner and deep, red lips. It wasn’t the wig: jet black like a raven’s plumage, glinting with an almost blueish tint. It was the way she moved, the expression on her face, the rebellion that now was just a mask, just an outfit to be worn and changed at her owner’s whim. Her entire being embodied the fantasy of a goth bimbo, a dark yet obedient angel. She embodied that fantasy just as she could embody any fantasy. She was hollow inside, ready to become whatever was required of her. It was time to show, fully, what she had become. Rose smiled with mischief. She went down to the floor and slowly opened her legs before running a finger to show off how soaked her obedient cunt was.

“Mommy…” she pleaded with a voice between a poor, vulnerable girl and a skillful seductress. “Look at me, my Mommy, my Owner, My Goddess. Look at your little girl… I’m so sorry, Mommy… sorry I wasn’t good enough to serve you before. Sorry I didn’t realize sooner what a fucking piece of fuckmeat I am. Sorry I thought I was more than just you fuckdoll, your object, your total slave to do whatever you please, whenever you please! Because that’s all I am, Mommy. I am nothing. I am just whatever you tell me to be. I believe whatever Mommy tells me to believe. I do whatever Mommy tells me to do… anything at all… I don’t exist. I am only holes and tits and slutty lips and an eager tongue… I am your furniture and your plaything and your sex toy and your pain addicted slut! I’ll do anything you say, with anyone you say. Rent me out if you want. Sell me if you get bored of me. Change my tastes, my look, everything about me whenever you wish. I only exist for you, Mommy… I am nothing… I am nothing… I am nothing…”

The girl was right on the edge, but the women knew she wouldn’t cum unless told to. Her face was a mixture of pleasure and pain and complete need for approval. She wasn’t just desperate to serve: she needed to obey just as she needed to breathe. There was nothing else behind her eyes. There certainly was no spark of rebellion left.

Lucía smiled and turned to her friend.

“Money well spent?”

The older woman licked her lips, ready to take home her new, perfect pet.

“The best.”

V - Mommy Knows Best

The house felt bigger, somehow- or perhaps Rose felt smaller, more like a pet, more like a pretty piece of decoration. As the women entered the living room, Rose instantly went on her knees, head down, chest out, ready to do whatever Mommy desired. She had no other need, no other impulse but to serve and obey. What she didn’t expect was to discover that she indeed still held the capacity for surprise within her heart.

“My slutty little toy…” said Mommy. “Go to your room. There… you’ll know what to do”

“Yes, Mommy”, answered the doll.

Rose crawled to her room. Inside, she saw something she didn’t expect, and yet, that something made perfect sense in her mind. She was empty. She was clay to be molded. And there, neatly placed on the bed, were the garments of her new self. A new self that would last as long as Mommy desired.

With every garment she put on she felt her demeanor change more and more. She would embody what her Mommy desired fully. She would be her fantasy perfectly. That was what mattered. Mommy didn’t need to tell her who to be. The clothing and the wig made the point exceedingly clear. Rose took a moment to observe her new hair, and all she could do was to admire Mommy’s diligence. Surely her owner had looked at many pictures from long ago- before she had dyed her hair red, before she had been consumed by pride- to perfectly match her natural hair color. It made her feel naked, in a strange way.

In her bed, Mommy waited, expecting to be delighted- and indeed her wishes came true in the best way possible. When Rose walked into the bedroom, what Mommy saw was not the goth slave that had entered the house a few minutes earlier. No, indeed what she saw was a different person altogether.

Dressed in her beautiful, short white and pink dress, her knee-high socks, her cute shoes… her hair in two perfect pigtails, her makeup junt hinting at a youthful blush… Rose was everything Mommy could ever dream her to be at that moment. A perfect mixture of pure innocence and the potential for that innocence’s shattering. And her eyes… wide, loving, trusting, bright like the moon. Her smile had the purity of unconditional adoration and the kind of love reserved for those a person would trust their life to. She was the embodiment of the babygirl Mommy had always imagined, while her natural curves added just a bit of perversion, of temptation. It was a role, sure, but one Rose had made entirely hers. At that moment she was that obedient, innocent girl her Mommy desired… and being whatever Mommy desired felt better than anything in the world.

The older woman smiled.

“Give Mommy a hug”, she cooed.

Rose skipped towards her Mommy and launched herself into her arms. She felt safe and happy in a way she couldn’t explain. She felt hands holding her body tight… then slowly roaming over it, caressing it, exploring it… a soft moan escaped Rose’s lips and her Mommy leaped at the opportunity it represented.

“What’s wrong, my doll?”, she asked playfully.

“I feel funny, Mommy”, said Rose, embodying her role to perfection.

“Funny? Where?”

“Down… down there, Mommy…” blushed Rose.

She immediately felt Mommy’s finger brush against her cute cotton panties, and her breathing started to quicken, her heart beating like a drum in anticipation. The finger soon went in front of Rose’s eyes, glistening under the light.

“Look at this, babygirl. Your little pussy is getting so soaked already! You know who gets wet like that? Little sluts, that’s who!”

Rose feigned horror.

“Mommy! I’m sorry… I don’t know why… am I being a bad girl?”

“It’s not your fault, my little doll. Your pussy is just a slutty hole, that likes it when older women touch it. But you need to learn that being a little fucking slut has consequences. And I will teach you.”

“Yes, Mommy. Please make me better! I want to be good, so good for you!”

Almost in the blink of an eye, Rose was face down on the soft bed, her wrists and ankles bound with incredible skill. She wriggled a bit, but was determined to take her punishment like a good girl. She felt as her skirt was slowly lifted, her panties pulled down to her knees. Mommy was taking her time, enjoying every second.

“Mommy…”, mumbled Rose.

“Shhh. This is for your own good. Slutty girls get punished. You understand that, don’t you, my little toy?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Time stretched into infinity, and every second made Rose’s body become more and more sensitive, ready to fully feel anything Mommy chose to make her feel. The anticipation was making her pussy leave a wet spot on the mattress, and feeling that spot against her skin only made Rose feel like a dumb animal in heat… which only served to make her wetter and wetter… she fought the urge to move, to somehow grind against that mattress that now smelled of her own degradation.

The first stroke of the paddle hit her light lightning. She deserved it. She deserved whatever Mommy chose to do to her. Stroke after stroke, her ass grew so hot it Rose felt she couldn’t take anymore- while knowing she would take anything for Mommy. Pain and pleasure became one and her mind went blank. She was a doll. All she could do was feel, accept, obey.

Before she knew it, Rose’s head was being pushed down into the wet spot on the mattress. She could smell her own perversion, and loved every second of it.

“Lick it clean, pet”, ordered Mommy.

Rose’s body obeyed.

VI - Cocktail Hour

Once the guests settled in, they couldn’t take their lustful eyes off the maid- and they didn’t try to hide it one bit.

They were all older women, all dressed immaculately in their own style, wearing their best jewelry, their finest garments. This was, after all, a special occasion indeed-, even if they playfully refused to say it out loud. Rose watched Mommy laugh and mingle. God, she was so wonderful. But the girl didn’t have time to gawk: she had to serve, after all.

Rose’s outfit had been crafted with a special artistry. It was a maid’s uniform, sure, and a sexy one at that- but it also had a frilly skirt that hinted at the innocence of a little girl’s favorite dress, knee-high socks with decorative bows on them, and a cute, pink set of panties that peeked from under her skirt with the slightest motion. It was a strategic masterpiece, designed to tease the senses while giving off a certain element of taboo, of a specific perversion. And Rose understood, on a primitive level, exactly what her role in the evening was.

It was a silent dance at first, a game of seduction and restraint. It started with the “accidental” touching of Rose’s ample cleavage as she served drinks, a subtle grazing of her thighs as she walked among the guests, an errant hand brushing against her buttocks. She knew what to do, and ignored the throbbing between her legs that begged her to simply go on her knees and worship these goddesses. She knew she had to be their prey, make herself as oblivious as possible, let them play their role as she played hers.

Soon the guests were abuzz, praising Mommy for her wonderful babygirl. “So cute!”, they said. “So well-behaved!”, they cooed. None of them said out loud what they were really thinking when they looked at Rose. Seeing Mommy’s keen approval of their praises, they took a step towards their goal.

“Come here, you sweet thing!”, one said, patting her lap. Rose did as she was told, her every movement a dance of simple, pure innocence. She sat on the guest’s lap and pretended to ignore the way the guest’s eyes were drawn to her breasts, the way her hand roamed from her waist to her thigh, the way the guests took in the scent of her neck. It was hard to keep her own pussy in check, to keep playing her role- but she’d be what Mommy wanted her to be.

“No fair!”, whined another guest. “You can’t keep such a sweet thing all to yourself!”

The new guest gestured Rose to go to her, and the doll, like a pet, skipped to where she was told to go. This woman was bolder than the first. Her slender fingers brushed against the cotton panties, and Rose failed to hold back a soft sigh. The woman smiled and whispered: “Does that feel good, little doll?”. Rose could only nod her head. She could feel her thinking becoming more and more blurry and fuzzy, weakened by the eyes on her, the way her body was being used simply as entertainment. When another guest called her over, she started moving before she even realized what she was doing.

Among the cocktails, the conversations, the laughs, Rose was passed around from older woman to older woman. She just let them do whatever they wished with her. That was her only purpose. Some fondled her big tits. Some focused on her pussy, skillfully pushing her panties aside. Some preferred to caress her legs, her face, her lips. Rose was on fire yet completely powerless inside. She was just a doll. The words echoed in her mind. Just a doll to be played with, dressed up, turned into whatever Mommy desired. And Mommy chose who got to play with her doll.

It was as if someone had lit up something inside Rose’s brain. Her body was more sensitive than ever, almost as if every inch of her skin was as wonderfully receptive to pleasure as her clit. Soon she was shaking, trying to hold back the need to kiss these women’s feet, moaning softly like some dumb, horny animal. The women could see Rose’s arousal, smell her vulnerability. They too held back as much as they could, but the air itself was thick with the scent of sex, the primal desire to conquer, to possess, to use. They all knew the little game could not last much longer- and indeed, it didn’t.

It started with a spank. Not a playful one: a strong, firm, painful slap right on Rose’s right buttcheek. That one act caused her to moan loudly, lustfully, signaling to everyone that the babygirl was ripe for the taking. It was as if a dam had collapsed.

Rose was pushed to the ground. It felt right, to be lower than all these superior beings. Whatever they chose to do to her, she would accept with all her heart. She deserved nothing more. She was no longer a person, and she knew she’d never go back to pretending she was worthy of anything more than what real people desired of her.

As she felt hands ripping her clothes off, grabbing her body in a frenzy, turning her into just a piece of fuckmeat, Rose felt, more than ever, that she was home.

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