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it starts off as “i won’t stop until you cum.” kanade whispers that promise in your ear like a mantra, repeated every time you try to start to squirm. once you told your best friend that you had never orgasmed- by yourself or with a partner, due to just how little sensitivity your core had- she had become determined. trying every toy she had on you, she finally manages to coax the first climax out of your body with a large and powerful magic wand, set to medium speed rubbing against your clit.
when you finally cum, you’re both shocked. kanade is elated, a sense of pride and possession washing over her. your first and only orgasm belonged to her.
however, once you tremble and cry out, she doesn’t turn the vibe down. she turns it up. then, it turns into “i won’t stop until you cum again.” the wand whirrs, loud and menacing as she grinds the head of it against your pulsating clit. “you’re sensitive now, yes?” but she doesn’t actually need an answer. she can tell by the way your hips start to buck and jut up off the bed in protest at the high-speed toy and it’s merciless buzzing. “it should be easy to make you cum a second time, now that you’re so swollen. let’s see if you can even give me a third.”
you cum again in a matter of moments, and a third shortly after. it was as if every orgasm you never experienced had been simmering, just under the surface, and it was kanade and her mind-melting toys that could coax them to boil over— the intensity of the back to back climaxes overloading your brain, and you cry out and beg her to stop. “too much!”
“i’ve had enough!”
“kanade, please, stop, i’m going crazy!”
it soon becomes, “i’m not stopping until you can’t form words anymore.” you’ve cum at least twice more since she said this, and your thighs quake so hard that she’s had to resort to tying you down to the bed to keep you from trying to crawl away. “they’re all mine,” she mutters, partially to herself, when she tosses the toy she was using on you aside. the wand had been retired, and then the bullets and the eggs, the slick dildo that smelled of your arousal still laying haphazardly on the pillow beside your face, strings of drool tethering from your lips to it where you’d already taken it in more than one hole.
your eyes are glassy. your moans are breathless and broken.
it’s still not enough. not for kanade, who wanted to break you completely and own the pieces that were left.
“every one of your orgasms belong to me.” she whispers, before ducking her head between your quivering thighs. you couldn’t even protest anymore, the sensation of her warm tongue running stripes between your tingling, sticky folds merely coaxing a half-coherent grunt from your slack lips, and your body half-asses an attempt to arch off the bed when her two, slender digits push inside of you in tandem with her mouth’s teasing. “and i want to take every one of them from you tonight.”
