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A lot of fucking eddies. That’s what Rebecca had burning a hole in her account, and she was damn well planning to smear every last one across the sleaziest pleasures Night City had to offer. Fresh off a contract that left her boots sticky with someone else’s blood and her jacket reeking of ozone discharge, she was still riding high on the rush. It hadn’t been clean, and it sure as shit hadn’t been quiet, but it paid like a corpo panic button. Her credchip was loaded, fat with filthy digits, and her body still hummed from the thrill of carnage. She needed a night. Something loud. Something fast. Something slick. Get drunk, get high, get railed so hard she’d forget her own goddamn name—maybe all three, if Night City was generous.
She stalked down the alley-ridden arteries of the lower city like a beast loosed from its cage. The air was dense, thick with garbage heat and neon spit, flickering signs reflecting off wet pavement like a gutterlight kaleidoscope. Her boots crunched through broken glass and abandoned stims, cybernetic knees humming softly beneath the baggy sway of her jacket. She was already chewing on the beat leaking out from The Sparkplug before she even hit the doors—basslines too fat for their own good, vocals distorted into moaning static, a synthetic dirge that promised headache and heat. The doors peeled open with a wet hiss, and a wall of sour air slammed her right in the sinuses—liquor breath, old sweat, ozone, and the tang of lube. God, she loved this place.
Trashy booths slouched under drunk corpos and worn-out mercs, the walls glitched with busted holo-ads trying to sell discount cyberware. Neon lights flickered like they were already broken, and porn vids looped silently in the background—close-ups of slapping skin, gaping mouths, spitting fluids. She could already feel her grin spreading as she slid past the entrance scanners, jacket half-zipped, tits barely covered, thighs on display like bait. The bartender, bless his meathead soul, didn’t even blink. He knew better. Rebecca liked her noise loud, her drinks stronger than her temper.
But of fucking course—of course—Weiss Schnee had to be there too. Sitting all proper and pristine like her tight ass didn’t belong anywhere near a place like this. She had that regal bitch posture, all straight back and crossed legs, sipping something clear and expensive like she wasn’t slumming it like the rest of them. Rebecca rolled her eyes so hard she saw static. White hair up in that stupid princess braid again, held in place by some glittering spike that screamed stab me. Ice blue eyes scanning the room like she was deciding what to judge next. Perfect skin, perfect poise, perfect little corpo cocksleeve.
Except she wasn’t. She wasn’t fucking gone. Weiss had stuck around. Gotten dirty. Taken gigs. Bled. She’d been here long enough now that she got the respect. Even her boots were scuffed now—real scuffed, not fashion-scuffed. Rebecca hated her for it. And maybe a little more for how good she looked doing it.
“Hey, princess,” Rebecca barked, her grin wide enough to cut, voice dipped in nicotine and venom. She brushed her sleeve off like she was flicking away flakes of gold, strutting past Weiss with her usual swagger, tits bouncing just enough to be noticed. “Still cut off from Daddy’s pocketbook, or you just slumming it for the kink?”
She didn’t bother waiting for a retort—just let that satisfaction ride her smirk as she dropped her ass onto her favorite stool, the bar’s cracked leather groaning under her. Her legs kicked a little, short as she was, but she made sure they spread just enough to tease—soft thighs pale against the dark vinyl, the hint of her black panties riding high. Her optics flicked lazily to the mirror behind the bar, catching the ice queen's gaze just for a second.
But the expected retort didn’t come. Rebecca let a few long seconds tick by, watching the frost princess in the cracked mirror, expecting the usual sharp-tongued dismissal or a glare sharp enough to cut glass. Instead Weiss just sat there, shoulders slumped, lips pursed tight around a shot glass. Depressed? No—worse. She looked pissed, frustrated, like some weight had finally cracked her immaculate posture. It wasn’t the usual Schnee arrogance on display. Rebecca tilted her head, optics narrowing as she studied the girl’s pale features under the club’s sickly lights.
“Hey, Weissy-Weiss,” she called again, leaning on the word like a tease, her smirk curling wider. “You even here, or just ghostin’ in your head?”
The answer was a flat, broken thing: “Leave me alone.” And it was punctuated by the clink of glass as Weiss drowned yet another shot. Rebecca blinked. Wait—shot? She leaned closer, her cyberoptics picking up the sheen of wet rims lined up like soldiers on the counter. Weiss Schnee, little corpo porcelain doll, was already several glasses deep into something strong enough to make the bartender raise a brow.
Normally Rebecca wouldn’t give a shit. Let the uptight brat pickle herself in overpriced liquor—less competition for the real fun. But there was something in the way Weiss looked tonight. Not haughty. Not bitchy. Just… gutted. Depressed and furious all tangled together. And for some goddamn reason, that twisted something sharp in Rebecca’s gut. Why the fuck should she care? Why did it matter if the princess was falling apart?
She exhaled a sharp laugh, more playful than she felt, and slid off her stool with a squeak of leather. Her boots thudded against the sticky floor as she scooted closer, closing the distance with all the subtlety of a predator. She dropped onto the seat beside Weiss, elbow brushing the ice queen’s as she flagged down the bartender with two fingers. “Line us up,” she said, ordering a round before Weiss could protest. A pair of fresh shots landed in front of them, glass sweating under the neon haze.
Rebecca shoved one toward Weiss and clinked hers against it. “C’mon, don’t be such a buzzkill, princess. Spill the beans. Why’re you sittin’ there lookin’ like a nomad who just got dumped on the freeway?”
Weiss tipped her head back and drowned the shot without a word, the liquor sliding down her throat in one clean burn, her pale neck flexing under the neon haze. Rebecca matched her without hesitation, glass pressed to her lips, the strong booze pouring like molten fire. It scorched on the way down, left her chest buzzing warm, and she exhaled with a satisfied hiss that curled into a grin. Weiss slammed her empty down with a clank, eyes narrowed but unfocused, and muttered in a voice that had lost its usual razor edge, “Since when do you care?”
Rebecca’s grin widened, maybe a little too sharp, maybe laid on a bit too thick. “Why shouldn’t I care?” she shot back, her voice syrup-slick and teasing, though even she could feel the false note in it. Truth was, she didn’t fucking know why she cared. Not really. The words tumbled out anyway, dragged by the liquor’s heat. “I don’t know. I just got off a gig, big paycheck, ready to get hammered, the whole mood. Then I see you here—little miss Schnee, sittin’ all moody and depressed—and it kills my buzz.”
“I’m not depressed,” Weiss cut back, sharp but shaky, her pale fingers twirling the rim of her empty glass like she could spin her frustration out of it.
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Rebecca snorted, leaning closer, her breath hot with alcohol. Her optics tracked every flick of Weiss’s lashes, every tense twitch of her jaw. “But you look like it. So come on, princess, spill it. What’s got you sittin’ here lookin’ like a doll that’s been dropped in the gutter?”
Weiss’s lips tightened, then softened as her shoulders slumped just a fraction. “It’s about something stupid,” she admitted, voice low, fingers worrying the edge of the shot glass like she might crack it under her touch. She tried not to sound too frustrated, but Rebecca heard it plain, the crack in her ice. And goddamn, it made something deep in Rebecca stir—because stupid or not, she wanted to know.
“And?” Rebecca leaned her elbow on the bar, smirking around the lip of her glass. “Half of Night City does stupid shit every hour. You saying something dumb doesn’t make you special, princess.”
Weiss scoffed, rolling her eyes without turning her head. “Fuck you too.”
Rebecca chuckled, lifting her shot to her lips and letting it linger there like she was waiting for the next word to give her a reason to grin harder. “Hey, I’m just spitting truth. Not like you’re exactly the oracle of insight yourself.”
That earned her a sharper side-eye, the kind that could’ve frozen a lesser bitch where she sat, but all it did was make Rebecca lean in closer, hungry to see the little cracks forming behind those perfect features. She smelled like sweat and perfume and desperation under the alcohol, and it hit Rebecca like fuel to the spark.
“But come on now,” she pressed, tone slipping somewhere between teasing and serious as her voice dipped low. “Spill the beans. What’s actually bothering you? Other than just having a real shitty day?”
Weiss inhaled sharply, held it like she could choke the confession back down. Then, with a flick of her wrist and a hollow laugh, she said, “Honestly? I’m just… pent up. Like, really pent up. You wouldn’t believe it. Night City’s a fucking disaster when it comes to that.”
Rebecca blinked. Her brain short-circuited for half a second. Pent up? That was the last thing she expected to hear from Weiss fucking Schnee. She stared at her—at that tight, sculpted body always so prim and unreachable, at those lips she’d wanted to ruin for months now—trying to wrap her head around the idea of this perfect little ice queen being frustrated.
“Wait—you’re pent up? In Night City?” Rebecca barked a laugh, half shocked and half delighted. “Bitch, there’s thousands of joytoys out there, just throwing pussy and cock at you left and right. Hell, I think there’s three in this bar alone—one of ’em’s probably offering jerking you off behind the bathroom door.”
But Weiss just gave her a tired, annoyed look and swirled the liquor in her next shot glass like it might drown her embarrassment. And Rebecca? She couldn’t stop staring. The sharp press of Weiss’s thighs in those tight shorts. The pale slope of her collarbone peeking out from under her jacket. The quiet, coiled heat hiding behind that perfect little frown.
“Now don’t give me that face,” Rebecca cooed, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “Look—I’ll even pay for it, if you’re that greedy.”
Weiss didn’t even dignify that with a smirk. She rolled her eyes and muttered, “No, it’s not that… It’s just—dull. With a joytoy, I mean.” She fiddled with her shot glass, the rim turning under her fingers like a nervous tic. “Paying for sex is... I don’t know. It just feels off, okay? Like there’s no spark. And people are surprisingly picky for a fling. Everyone expects to get flatlined or charged when it’s over. It’s depressing.” She glanced away, cheeks tinged pink under the club’s murk. “Sue me but I have standards.”
Rebecca let out a scoff, more amused than mocking. “You’re just a prude.”
“I’m not a prude,” Weiss shot back immediately, but the spark in her voice had some fire to it. A spark worth fanning.
“Then everything’s fine, no?”
Rebecca didn’t wait for another word. She moved like lightning—sharp and smooth and cocky as hell. In one swift motion, she slid off her stool and parked her ass right into Weiss’s lap, thighs straddling the rich girl’s hips, denim grazing tight silk. Her weight settled like a heatwave, and Weiss jolted beneath her, startled, stiff like a system error.
“What are you—Rebecca!” Weiss hissed, her voice a mix of outrage and panic, eyes wide with stunned disbelief that flickered with something hotter just beneath the surface. Her back went ramrod straight, shoulders drawn up like she might bolt—but her hands didn’t move. Didn’t even twitch. They stayed frozen at her sides, curled into the bar’s edge like she needed an anchor just to keep from falling apart. Rebecca’s grin went sharp, wicked, all devilish amusement as she leaned in close, nose nearly brushing Weiss’s. She rolled her hips down slow, deliberately slow, a sensual grind that turned her barely-covered ass into a taunting rhythm machine, each press dragging against the front of Weiss’s lap like a live wire being stroked over exposed skin.
The friction was electric—heat building instantly as Rebecca worked her body in a lazy, deliberate roll. She knew exactly what she was doing. Could feel the way Weiss’s thighs trembled beneath her, could practically taste the tight restraint pouring off the girl in waves. That was what made it all the more delicious—the tension, the refusal, the desperate silence that screamed louder than any moan. And still, Weiss didn’t push her off. Didn’t stop her. Didn’t say a damn word to make it end.
A small, unintentional gasp escaped Weiss’s lips—sharp and wet. She was trying so hard not to react, but Rebecca could feel the tremble beneath her, the stiffness that had nothing to do with discomfort and everything to do with arousal. Her own pulse picked up, blood thick with thrill.
“You said you had standards,” Rebecca purred, voice husky and close, her lips brushing near Weiss’s cheek. “I get that. But what about me?”
She rolled her hips again, slower this time—circling, pressing down, letting every inch of her sculpted ass grind against the very obvious, very throbbing bulge rising beneath her. The friction sparked white-hot against her own soaked panties, teasing her clit with every shift. She arched just enough to amplify the pressure, her body a perfect, filthy rhythm machine working that eager bulge with merciless intent. Weiss’s thighs twitched under her, sharp and involuntary, like her nerves were fraying at the edges. Her jaw clenched tighter than her composure, but her body betrayed her completely—hips pushing up ever so slightly, craving more contact, more pressure, more of Rebecca. That desperate tremble said everything her frosty silence wouldn’t.
Rebecca smirked as her breath tickled Weiss’s ear. “Am I up to standard, princess?”
Weiss didn’t respond, and that silence was permission enough—fuel to the fire already roaring in Rebecca’s gut. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of Weiss’s ear, voice a wicked purr. “I mean, I see you staring at my ass all the damn time. You like it, don’t you, princess?” Her tone was dripping with mockery, but her hips kept their hungry rhythm, grinding and circling like a tease set to music.
Before Weiss could even sputter a reply, Rebecca gave her own ass a sharp slap—smack—the sound cracking over the thump of the club’s bass. The soft flesh jiggled in hypnotic ripples, a shameless display of control and filth that sent a shiver down Weiss’s spine. Rebecca rode that reaction, moving more deliberately now, feeding that fat, twitching bulge pressing against her with every dirty grind. She could feel it throb beneath her—strained and growing—pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own.
“C-Can you stop?” Weiss breathed, but her voice was thin, shaky, barely holding together. Her body said something entirely different. Because even as her words faltered, her hands betrayed her—those dainty, precise fingers suddenly clutched at Rebecca’s ass. No hesitation, no second-guessing. Just a hungry grab, fingers digging into the soft, toned flesh like she was trying to memorize the shape.
Rebecca couldn’t help it—she laughed, breathy and hot against Weiss’s cheek. “Not a prude at all, I see,” she teased, her voice thick with delight and arousal. Weiss’s blush flared even deeper, her face turning scarlet beneath the icy frame of her hair.
“Shut up,” she hissed, but it lacked heat. Her fingers kept kneading, pulling Rebecca tighter into her lap, as if she couldn’t help herself. And Rebecca? She just leaned back into it, grinding harder, slower, drawing out every delicious tremble from the girl underneath her. The bulge in Weiss’s pants was getting harder to ignore—thicker, hotter, and so achingly promising that Rebecca’s core throbbed in time with it.
A low, helpless groan tore from Weiss’s lips, raw and needy, as Rebecca’s thick, jiggling ass ground slow and steady against the trapped length between her thighs. The pressure was maddening—soft flesh squishing around her cock, the grinding rhythm sending bolts of sensation straight up her spine. Every roll of Rebecca’s hips teased out another pulse, another twitch, Weiss’s breath catching with each pass as her control began to fray like shredded silk.
Rebecca grinned wide, arms slinking around Weiss’s neck like chains made of teasing muscle and wicked intent. Her breath was warm against Weiss’s cheek, her voice a low, purring drawl soaked in amusement. “Can you stop before I pop a boner?” Weiss hissed, but her tone lacked bite, buried under panting breath and the kind of desperation that sent Rebecca’s ego soaring.
“Oh? You mean this fat thing hasn’t popped already?” she murmured with mock surprise, giving her hips a deep, deliberate roll that made Weiss suck in air like she’d been punched. “Poor princess. So easy to tease. So very easy to break.”
Rebecca chuckled, wicked and breathy, delighting in the flushed, dazed look spreading across Weiss’s face—the high color in her cheeks, the gloss of sweat at her temples, the sheer need shimmering in her narrowed eyes. She was loving this. Loved the way her lap dance had reduced the ice queen to a trembling mess with a throbbing cock straining against her clothes. Rebecca could feel it now—really feel it—thick and hot and twitching against her soaked panties, straining with every twitch of Weiss’s hips.
“Fine,” Rebecca said at last, her voice a silken whip of satisfaction as she slowed her grind. “I’ll give you a break. But if you want to have some real fun?” She leaned in, lips brushing Weiss’s ear, voice thick with promise. “My apartment. 10 minutes”
And with that, Rebecca gave one last, obscene grind against that desperate bulge—so slow it bordered on cruel, letting her weight sink down until she could feel Weiss shudder beneath her. Then, with a bounce and a smirk, she peeled herself off and stood, letting the chill of sudden absence rush in where her warmth had been.
“Later, Weissy,” she purred, cocky grin wide enough to split her face, her green pigtails swaying with every confident step. With a wink and a flick of her wrist, she transferred her address to Weiss’s neural inbox and strutted out the door, boots thudding like punctuation marks.
Tonight was gonna be very interesting.
The hot, steamy water cascaded down over Rebecca’s head in thick, soothing rivers, each droplet clinging to her skin before trailing in lazy rivulets over her body’s every sculpted curve. It kissed her shoulders, slid between her breasts, and traced the dip of her waist like a hundred tiny, eager mouths. The sensation should have been calming, sensual, comforting. And it was—sort of. But Rebecca’s jaw was tight, her eyes narrowed, a low hum of agitation buzzing under her skin like a feedback loop. Twenty minutes. Twenty goddamn minutes since that scene at the club, since she’d strutted off all fire and confidence, since she’d sent that cocky little ping to Weiss’s inbox. And now? Now she was wet, naked, and wondering if she’d fucked it all up.
Did I lay it on too thick? she thought, frustration curling in her gut. Was I too forward? Too aggressive? She’d seen the fluster on Weiss’s face, the heat in her eyes, the way her hands had clutched at her ass like a lifeline. That hadn’t been nothing. That had been something. And yet, here she was—alone in the shower, steam fogging the mirror, doubt creeping in like a bad trip. Her fingers raked through her soaked green hair, water dripping off her lashes as her mind circled the same loop. Weiss hadn’t said she wouldn’t come. She hadn’t said anything at all, really. Which was kind of worse. Uncertainty gnawed at her nerves, prickling hot and uncomfortable.
Rebecca exhaled hard, fogging the glass again. Fuck’s sake, Schnee, don’t leave me hanging. There was still time. A sliver of hope. And she held onto it like a goddamn idiot. Then—ding.
The doorbell chimed through her tiny apartment, shrill and sudden over the sound of the water. Rebecca froze. Her heart did something weird in her chest—skipped, stuttered, thudded. No way. She slammed the shower off, droplets flicking from her skin as she padded out, bare feet slipping on the smooth tile. The chill of the air hit her instantly, raising goosebumps along her pale, soaked skin, but she didn’t care. She moved fast—no towel, no hesitation, just wet skin and determination.
Her apartment wasn’t much—just one of a million cramped boxes jammed like forgotten memories into the crumbling bones of Night City’s sprawl—but it was hers. Four walls and a ceiling thick with noise insulation, a place where the hum of neon didn’t drown out her thoughts, a place where the chaos matched her pace. It was a riot of cluttered charm: glowing screens flickering with residual data ghosts, tangled cords snaking under furniture, a half-eaten burrito next to a disassembled pistol on the kitchen counter. Clothes lay in suggestive disarray, strewn across chairs and half-hung on wall hooks, equal parts clean and worn. The scent was pure Rebecca—synth-vanilla, lube, gun oil, and the faint metallic afterglow of ozone.
She slipped through the mess like she belonged in it, bare feet slapping softly on the concrete floor, cybernetic joints whispering under the slight twitch of her hips. The lights shifted to track her, auto-sensors responding to her presence with lazy flickers of warmth as she padded across the room. Steam still curled from her skin, damp trails kissed across her thighs and belly where the water hadn’t fully dried yet. Her mind was racing again, nerves jittery under her calm expression, all that anticipation roiling just beneath the surface.
She reached the small, wall-mounted display beside the door with fingers slightly trembling. Not fear—adrenaline. Hope. Want. And maybe the tiniest, most irritating flicker of doubt. Please fucking be there, she thought, teeth pressing into her lower lip. And then—her breath caught, sharp and sudden. Because there she was, on the live feed:
Weiss Schnee.
Standing there, shifting on her heels like a nervous schoolgirl, arms crossed over her chest, eyes flicking between the hallway walls like she was second-guessing everything. Her lips were pressed tight, her pristine jacket a little rumpled, her silver tiara catching the dull hallway light. Rebecca’s heart gave a low, giddy flip.
She hit the unlock.
The door hissed open with a soft click, revealing Rebecca in all her dripping, nude glory—small, toned, and utterly unapologetic. Water still clung to her like crystal tears, trailing lazy lines over the pale canvas of her skin, running in slow streams down her inner thighs, her toned calves, her flat, twitching stomach, and the curve between the perky swell of her small, round breasts. Droplets kissed the underswell of her ass, pooled in the small of her back before sliding down in a warm trickle, her body still steaming in the open air. Her arms hung loose at her sides, but her posture wasn’t lazy—it was bold, hips cocked, shoulders rolled back, chest pushed forward with that same smirking dominance she carried into every fight and fuck. Her cyberoptics shimmered faintly in the hallway light, zeroed in on Weiss with a gaze sharp enough to flay.
She met Weiss’s wide eyes with a sly, rising smile, lips curling in slow satisfaction, like a predator watching her prey take one hesitant step too close.
They were nearly the same height—short, but in perfect alignment, eye to eye, lip to lip. For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Just stared, locked in place by the gravity of raw, unfiltered want. Weiss’s pale blue gaze flicked down, then snapped back up, then dragged back down again, this time even slower. She drank in every inch of Rebecca’s bare, dripping form, and her breath visibly caught when her eyes lingered on the soft, glistening weight of Rebecca’s breasts—nipples already hard from the air—and the sleek line of muscle under pale skin. Her gaze dipped lower, lips parting just slightly as she took in the flat, flexed belly, then further still to the trimmed strip of green above the glistening vee between Rebecca’s thighs.
Then—inevitably—her gaze settled on Rebecca’s ass. That firm, tight bubble butt gleamed with moisture, the light catching on every drop that clung to the plush curve like it had been sculpted just to tempt. Rebecca was stupidly, secretly proud of it, and the way Weiss’s pupils dilated—just so—made her insides do a little victory dance.
The moment stretched long and hot, thick with wordless tension, vibrating with the silent friction of unspoken desire. Weiss's face flushed deeper, the tips of her ears tinged pink as her breath grew shallow. Her fingers twitched by her sides like she wanted to reach out and touch, but didn’t dare.
Rebecca arched one brow, leaned against the doorway just enough to make her hips pop and her chest tilt forward with calculated tease. Her tone was low, soaked in sex and satisfaction. “Well,” she purred, voice thick like syrup, words rolling off her tongue like a slow drip of honey onto overheated skin. “Took you long enough.”
"Yeah, ehm, sorry—I went for these..." Weiss stammered, fumbling out a pack of condoms like a deer caught in headlights. Her pale hands trembled slightly, movements stilted and shy, betraying how out of her element she felt in this setting, alone, faced with Rebecca’s nude bravado and soaking dominance. The foil packets crinkled under her fingers, bright metallic glints catching the low light of the apartment like they were mocking her hesitation.
Rebecca blinked, lips parting in brief surprise before curling into a wide, delighted grin. There was something oddly innocent about the gesture, something so endearingly clumsy in Weiss’s offering that it peeled back a layer of the highborn heiress. Her smile took on a wicked curve as her eyes flicked to the box: XXXL Extra Large. Oh, this was too rich.
"Aren’t you compensating for something?" she teased, her voice a low purr as she leaned in slightly, brow arched, finger tapping the oversized label like it was a punchline begging for applause. Weiss’s face lit up in a fierce, embarrassed crimson, her mouth opening, closing, struggling for a defense that didn’t sound utterly ridiculous.
"W-What? No! I mean, I just thought... I don’t know, just in case—"
Rebecca cut her off with a smug snort and plucked the box effortlessly from her hand, spinning on her heel to flick it with dramatic flair into the nearby trash can. The cardboard hit metal with a dull thunk, punctuated by the soft, final hiss of the apartment door sliding shut behind them.
"You won’t need those anyway," she said with casual confidence, walking back toward Weiss with lazy, prowling steps. Her wet skin shimmered with each move, water gliding in slow beads along her toned form. Her breasts bounced softly with each step, nipples tight with the lingering chill, thighs glistening as droplets slid sensually down her inner curves. She stood chest to chest with Weiss, the heat of her body blooming like fire against the cool, flustered girl.
Weiss stiffened as Rebecca closed the gap, their bodies brushing, slick skin meeting dry silk, sending electric sparks through both of them. Damp breasts pressed to fabric-covered ones, the texture contrast almost painful in its intensity. Rebecca reached out and slid a hand slowly, almost reverently, up the curve of Weiss’s side, fingers trailing dampness across porcelain skin through thin cloth.
Rebecca whispered against her ear, voice thick with intent. "Condoms kill the spark. And tonight? I want every bit of it. Every twitch, every shiver, every fuckin' gasp. So unless you’ve got something against it."
Weiss blinked at her, visibly shaken but not pulling away, breath shallow and quick, like the words themselves had already sunk into her spine. And Rebecca grinned.
This was going to be fun.
"What do you mean—hey!" Weiss protested, but her voice was cut short as Rebecca closed the distance, her still-wet body pressing against the startled heiress. Damp skin met dry silk, the contrast electric. Rebecca's small breasts pushed against Weiss's, soft against firm, nipples brushing as heat bloomed between them. The air grew heavy with tension, thick with scent and steam and something else—something deeper.
"We’re doing this raw," Rebecca murmured, voice low, dripping with confidence. "Condoms kill the sensation, and frankly, it sucks. So yeah, fuck latex." She leaned in, forehead nearly touching Weiss’s, breath warm against her lips. "Just a couple rules though. Simple ones. You should be able to handle 'em."
Weiss blinked, clearly overwhelmed but trying to play it cool, her back stiff against the closed door, fingers twitching slightly as if caught between indecision and surrender. Rebecca counted on that—a little fluster was always more fun, and the way those pale blue eyes darted down to her still-glimmering wet skin before snapping back up told her everything she needed.
"Rule one," Rebecca began, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate arc that pressed her bare body against Weiss’s front with a teasing slickness, the grind electric and demanding attention. Her voice dropped to a sultry purr, each word laced with husky authority. "No cumming inside."
Weiss’s brow furrowed, confusion etched in the furrow between her eyes as her breath caught. "Then why no condoms?" she asked, her voice breathy, tinged with something far too eager to be genuine resistance.
Rebecca sighed—slow, dramatic, as though the question was both beneath her and utterly expected. Her fingers slid along Weiss’s hips, just enough pressure to ground and taunt. "Because they dull everything. I want to feel you. I want every twitch, every throb, every fuckin’ pulse like it's wired into my nerves. I want to be so raw I can feel your heartbeat through my goddamn skin. You got that?"
Weiss nodded, slow and uncertain, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes were wide now, pupils blown, lips parted as if trying to catch up with the sheer weight of Rebecca’s intensity.
"Second rule—and last one," Rebecca whispered, her voice lowering into something firmer, sharper, almost dangerous. She tilted her head, breath brushing hot against Weiss’s cheek. "No kissing. This isn’t a romance, princess. No cuddles, no sweet nothings. We fuck. That’s it. You and me, skin to skin, no strings."
Weiss hesitated. Her brows drew together, mouth parting slightly like she was on the verge of saying something—some protest, some question. But the words never came. Instead, her gaze dropped again, tracing Rebecca’s glistening form as if searching for a foothold, a reason, a way out and finding none that she truly wanted. Something deeper shimmered in her eyes now: not just curiosity, but heat, hunger, maybe even desperation.
She gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Yeah. Okay. I think I can do that."
"Perfect," Rebecca purred, her grin widening as victory coiled in her gut. "Now—get these clothes off."
Without waiting for a reply, Rebecca reached for Weiss’s jacket, her fingers quick and eager, dragging the fine material down her shoulders. Piece by piece, the regal façade came undone—boots thunking against the floor, tight shorts peeled down smooth legs, top slipping away to reveal porcelain skin dusted with a faint shimmer of sweat.
And fuck—she was stunning. A mirror to Rebecca in size and tone: lean, small, built like a dancer with just enough muscle to hint at hidden strength. Rebecca’s hands trembled slightly as they hovered over that freshly exposed body. This was going to be very fun.
It didn't take long until every last piece of clothing was peeled from Weiss’s flawless form, each layer falling away like petals from a forbidden bloom. She stood there now, regal and breathtaking, a porcelain goddess with barely a hint of modesty left—just her light blue panties, stretched obscenely tight over the pulsing outline of her arousal. That faint sky hue, matching her stunning eyes, barely disguised the sheer size of what lay underneath. Rebecca’s tongue darted across her lips as her gaze devoured the sight, eyes locked on the massive, throbbing bulge beneath that trembling fabric.
"Fuck me... I guess you really do need those XXXL condoms, huh?" Rebecca purred, voice thick with awe and mischief, a sharp smirk playing across her lips. Her fingers twitched with restraint as she leaned in, unable to stop herself from planting a soft, reverent kiss between Weiss’s exposed breasts. The smooth, cool skin of her chest felt divine under Rebecca’s lips. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of heat and tension that clung to the heiress’s body.
Weiss let out a stuttering breath, a soft gasp betraying her composure as Rebecca cupped both of her small, delicate breasts with her hands, thumbs grazing the perked pink tips with deliberate teasing. Her tongue flicked out to place another gentle peck to the underside of the other breast, savoring the contrast between firm muscle and soft skin. A third kiss followed, lower still, right on the tight definition of Weiss’s toned abdomen. Every movement was deliberate—each kiss placed with care, a slow descent of worship, like a trail of hot, reverent fire working its way down from divinity to sin.
Rebecca could feel Weiss’s breath hitch above her, a subtle arch rolling through her abdomen, her hips tensing just the slightest, like her whole body was straining not to push forward. Rebecca’s lips curled into a slow grin as she traced the tip of her tongue along the line where abs turned into v-lines, savoring the taste of sweat and trembling restraint. Her palms continued to work in tandem, thumbs now circling the hardened peaks of Weiss’s nipples with a lazy, torturous rhythm that coaxed soft, involuntary shudders.
"I-I thought no kissing...?" Weiss murmured, voice shaking with the barest edge of playfulness, even as her hands hovered awkwardly at her sides, unsure whether to push away or pull Rebecca closer. Her words were light, but her tone betrayed a deeper need—tinged with uncertainty, desire, and something almost like hope.
Rebecca grinned against the curve of her abs, lips dragging a breath-warmed kiss across the taut skin just beneath Weiss's navel. "That’s foreplay, babe. Doesn’t count," she replied smoothly, her breath hot and teasing as she dropped another kiss, even lower this time—right at the waistline, where soft skin gave way to the taut stretch of fabric holding back everything.
And again. Another inch down. Her kisses turned wetter, more open-mouthed, her tongue darting out to taste, to leave a slick trail of need across Weiss’s trembling body. Each kiss was an act of slow seduction, a wordless promise of things to come, and Rebecca delivered it with the kind of patience that bordered on cruel.
Her lips traveled lower and lower, inch by excruciating inch, until finally, her knees met the cool tile floor of her apartment with a soft thud, sharp and final like a vow. Weiss looked down, breath shallow and uneven, hands curling into tense fists as her composure threatened to crack. Rebecca gazed up at her through fluttering lashes, her eyes dark with mischief and heat. Her green hair were damp from earlier, framing her flushed face in a chaotic halo of want, sweat clinging to her temples as her eyes dropped again to the prize.
That bulge. Huge. Quivering. Practically aching to be freed. The shape was unmistakable—thick and heavy, stretching the pale blue fabric to its limit. Rebecca licked her lips as a rush of heat pooled low in her belly, the sight alone enough to send a sharp pulse between her own legs.
"Let’s see what we’re really working with," Rebecca murmured, her voice barely a whisper, thick with anticipation and awe. She leaned forward, lips brushing against the fabric, leaving the lightest kiss right on the head outlined beneath. Her tongue flicked out, teasing the strained material as a low moan rippled up Weiss’s spine. Her fingers hooked into the waistband delicately, eyes never leaving that perfect outline, and with a slow, reverent pull—like she was unveiling a masterpiece—she peeled the panties down, inch by inch.
With a heavy, wet thud, the beast dropped onto Rebecca’s face like a punishment from the gods—slapping her cheek with obscene weight before it flopped forward, pressing against her lips and the bridge of her nose in hot, twitching defiance. The sheer impact of it left her dazed, breath catching in her throat as the heavy shaft twitched with anticipation, laying across her like it belonged there. It was massive. Monstrous. Girthy to the point of obscene sin. Rebecca couldn’t breathe for a second—not because she was suffocating, but because her mind short-circuited, lost in the sheer impossibility of the sight in front of her. Weiss’s cock—Weiss—the prim, frosty heiress turned gloriously filthy—was hung like some cyber-enhanced stud sculpted purely for ruin. It wasn’t just long—it was titanic. Veined like a highway of heat and hunger, flushed a furious, swollen pink along the shaft, with the crown bloated into a furious royal purple that looked ready to burst.
Rebecca’s jaw fell slack. Over a foot of virile cock loomed over her face, thick as her wrist and pulsing with life, veins twitching like they were breathing in time with Weiss’s mounting arousal. Every slow throb made it shift, almost imperceptibly, as if it were a living, thinking creature aching for a throat to devour. Her cyberoptics zoomed without command, magnifying every droplet of syrupy precum oozing from the gaping slit at the tip. The bead rolled forward, shimmering like molten silver, and splattered against her cheek, warm and obscene. Her entire face flushed as the scent hit her—a sharp, intoxicating mix of sweat, musk, and sex. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, nipples tightening in sympathetic arousal, and her thighs clenched involuntarily beneath her.
She couldn’t help it. Her tongue darted out with instinctive hunger, licking the soft underside just beneath the swollen crown. Fuck. The taste exploded on her palate—salty, heady, the kind of flavor that curled heat in her gut and made her moan right against the tip. Her lips brushed the head reverently, the softest, wettest contact, and the cock twitched, slapping her cheek again with a thick, meaty smack that echoed in her ears and left a string of precum stretching from the head to her skin.
She moaned again, a low, drawn-out sound of need that vibrated against Weiss’s shaft. The heat radiating from the cock was unbearable—like it had a pulse of its own, thrumming in her hand as she finally reached up, gripped the base, and felt it for real. Her hand barely managed to encircle the monstrous girth—fingers splayed, skin tight over the thick meat. The weight of it was unbelievable. Her knuckles ached from the pressure. It was a weapon. A curse. A blessing from the filthiest gods of porn and pleasure.
And the balls—fuck. They were equally obscene. Hanging heavy between Weiss’s trembling thighs, the bloated orbs swung like twin chrome grenades primed to detonate. They looked swollen, like she hadn’t unloaded in days. Maybe weeks. Every inch of Weiss was trembling with restraint, the kind of restraint that screamed I need this. Rebecca licked her lips again, leaving a wet trail of spit across her cheek as she leaned in, dragging her tongue slowly down the underside of the shaft, feeling every thick vein pulse beneath her.
“Goddamn,” she whispered against the skin, her voice thick with reverence and awe. “How the fuck do you walk around with this thing?”
Weiss’s balls were no less obscene. Low-hanging, bloated, indecent—like they hadn’t been drained in weeks. Two overfilled orbs that swung gently between Weiss’s trembling thighs, so heavy they made the whole cock look even more absurd by comparison. Rebecca stared at them like they were the centerpiece of an art exhibit, pupils blown wide, breath shallow. Her mouth actually watered. That shaft—thick as her forearm, veins bulging like it was trying to claw out of her grip—demanded worship, and she was more than willing.
"Hope it's not too unwieldy," Weiss murmured, tone cocky and casual, but with just enough smugness to make Rebecca want to bite. That perfect little smirk was back—the nervous mask shattered, replaced with the dirty confidence of a girl who knew what she was packing.
Rebecca snorted, licking her lips. “Don’t get cocky up there. Let’s see if you even know how to use this fucking thing.”
She gripped the base, her small hand barely able to wrap around it—fingers splayed, palm straining as her thumb failed to meet her middle finger. The flesh was alive beneath her touch, twitching, pulsing with each beat of Weiss’s heart like it had a will of its own. It was hotter than anything had a right to be, the thick shaft practically radiating a molten heat that made her knuckles prickle and her own cunt throb in time. She gave it a slow, reverent stroke, dragging her palm up the thick, meaty girth with agonizing precision, savoring the way it jumped beneath her grip, veins pressing up like roads etched into marble. It throbbed like a beast waiting to be fed.
Her tongue rolled out again, longer now, hungrier, dragging itself from her lips with shameless intent. She dipped low and placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the base, then began a slow, deliberate climb upward, licking thick, twitching veins like they were trails of treasure winding up toward glory. The skin was smooth, hot, slick with sweat and precum, tasting like salt and sex and skin. She moaned into it, the vibrations of her throat dancing through the shaft as she worked her tongue in lazy, worshipful strokes all the way up. When she reached the head, she gave it a full, slow swirl—tongue curling around the bulbous crown like a ribbon wrapping a gift, teasing the swollen rim with obscene precision. She collected that drooling bead of precum with a hum, letting it coat her tongue, roll over her tastebuds like ambrosia and swallowed it down with a reverent purr, eyes fluttering shut.
A low, needy moan slipped from Weiss's lips as Rebecca's mouth trailed sultry, lingering kisses down the twitching length once more, lips dragging with decadent slowness over the burning skin. Her every movement was exaggerated, luxuriant, savoring the obscene heat radiating from that monstrous shaft as if she were tasting a forbidden delicacy. Her lips worshipped every throbbing vein, every impossibly thick inch with slow, reverent devotion, pausing to nuzzle the pulsing ridges like she was blessing them one by one.
It was the biggest cock she had ever seen—monstrous in scale, obscene in its weight and heat—and she adored that it was all natural, no implant whatsoever. No chrome tricks or synthetic mods. Just pure, ridiculous biology. And somehow that made it even hotter. Her mind buzzed with filthy awe, every inch she kissed dragging her deeper into horny disbelief. How the fuck does this even fit anywhere? Her lips curled into a smirk as she planted another kiss on a thick, bulging vein. Guess I’m about to find out.
Her tongue flicked along the underside like a serpent tasting paradise, the flesh twitching at her every tease. The taste—sweat, salt, skin, a heady burst of slick precum—coated her tongue as her soft moans echoed into the flushed, veiny skin. She lingered there, letting her tongue press flat and wide, dragging up the length with obscene intent, feeling Weiss's cock flex and throb with each breath she took. Rebecca inhaled the scent again—pure musk and desire—and felt her core clench, soaked and aching without even being touched. This cock had her dripping just from the scent. And she hadn’t even started sucking yet.
She drew in a deep breath, burying her face until her nose pressed against the musky, sweat-slicked base. The scent was overpowering—raw, potent, animalistic. It slammed into her senses like a drug, making her head spin and her thighs twitch. Her breath hitched as her lips brushed the tight, heated skin of one swollen testicle, so heavy and full it looked like it could burst. She opened her mouth and took it in with reverence, suckling gently, teasing the taut surface with slow, wet flicks of her tongue. It was hot, almost feverish, stretched tight with the burden of days—maybe weeks—worth of cum. Liquid pressure that throbbed with restrained need.
She could feel it, deeper than touch—this heavy, low rumble of desire trapped in Weiss's balls, an urgent, primal boil of semen just begging for release. Every pulse of the sac against her lips sent a sympathetic ache through Rebecca’s cunt, her cunt soaked and clinging as she imagined that obscene payload being forced into her. Her thighs squeezed together involuntarily, her body reacting with visceral need.
She switched balls with a practiced grace, giving the other equal worship. Her tongue circled the tender flesh, trailing slick, spiraling licks before she dipped lower to suck it whole into her mouth. The weight of it filled her cheek, and she moaned around it, sending warm vibrations into the aching orb. Her fingers squeezed the base of Weiss's cock in time with her tongue work, coaxing out more of that musky scent that clouded her mind with lust. She let it linger there, tasting, teasing, drooling around the weight in her mouth like it was a sacred act.
And all the while, her hands never stopped their sinful rhythm. Her palms glided up and down that veiny monster of a shaft with slow, deliberate strokes. Each movement was like a caress, slick with spit and the heavy drip of precum that painted her fingers. She gripped it with both hands, her small fingers barely spanning the girth, giving Weiss the slow, loving attention of a girl utterly obsessed with her cock. Rebecca was in her element—thorough, filthy, and drowning in arousal.
As her lips returned to the tip, breath washing hot against the swollen, glistening crown, Rebecca's pink-and-yellow cyberoptics locked with Weiss’s pale blue eyes—an electric stare crackling with shared deviance. Her tongue flicked up to the drooling slit, catching a bead of syrup-thick precum that stretched and snapped as she pulled back slightly. The taste hit her tongue like a shot of heat, salty and rich, and she hummed as it rolled down her throat.
She tilted her head, playful and wicked, letting her tongue paint lazy circles around the flared head. She teased every ridge and curve, slowly dragging her wet muscle over the rim, letting her spit mix with the precum to create a glistening sheen. Her lips kissed it, pressed to it like it was a lover’s mouth, and then—without warning—she parted them and welcomed the crown between her lips. Her mouth stretched wide, her jaw aching immediately from the sheer girth, but she didn’t stop. She wanted that ache. She relished it.
Rebecca sucked lightly, the heat of her breath swirling around the head, her tongue swirling with a sinful rhythm that made Weiss twitch under her. She could feel every little pulse and throb, the way the cock flexed from even the faintest movement of her lips. It was alive in her mouth, a beast of need, and she was feeding it worship with every deliberate motion. Her cheeks hollowed as she began to bob slowly, taking more inch by inch, never rushing. Every downward slide brought more of that meaty shaft into her mouth, pushing her limits, making her eyes water with the stretch.
Weiss’s body shuddered violently. Her back arched in reflex, hips tensing as though they wanted to buck but didn’t dare disrupt the temple of pleasure unfolding below her. Her breath hitched sharply, fingers sinking into Rebecca’s hair like she might fall apart if she let go. "F-Fuck, that feels... goddamn—fuck," she gasped, voice hoarse and cracking with raw need. Her tone wavered between disbelief and unfiltered lust, her legs trembling as Rebecca’s suction deepened, mouth working that crown like it was made to.
The look in Rebecca’s eyes as she peered up at her—wild, hungry, in control—only made it worse. Weiss wasn’t used to losing composure. But here, now, with her cock swaddled in heat and spit and affection so filthy it bordered on divine, she was unraveling fast. And Rebecca hadn’t even started sucking in earnest yet.
Then, with a deeper, more dominant growl layered in command and raw hunger, Weiss whispered, "How about you suck on it now?" Her grip tightened, not painfully, but with promise, and she gently guided Rebecca's head down further, eager to feel more of that sinful heat around her shaft. Rebecca didn’t resist—instead, she moaned in anticipation as the thick crown pushed deeper into her mouth, her throat preparing for the full stretch of the impossible beast she aimed to tame.
And what a beast it was. Inch after thick, veiny inch made its way into Rebecca’s mouth, her jaw stretched wide, aching deliciously as her lips struggled to accommodate the sheer girth. It felt less like sucking a cock and more like feeding on a living, pulsing, throbbing creature, one that demanded reverence and submission. She sputtered and gasped, her breath hitching in little whimpers of effort and want, her throat tightening with reflexive resistance. Her cyberoptics flickered slightly with strain, vision swimming with arousal. The fat crown struck the back of her throat like a battering ram, and she gagged around it once, eyes watering, but her moan was pure filth—lust-drenched and victorious. She didn’t pull back. She pushed. Her lips trembled around the shaft, stretching obscenely wide to accept more.
It was a wonderful stretch, a sinful ache that pushed every limit she had, and she loved it. The pain was pleasure. The pressure was validation. Every choke and clench of her throat around Weiss’s cock felt like a celebration of her own depravity. It was a challenge, one her greedy little mouth craved to conquer. She wanted all of it. Needed it. That monstrous shaft belonged inside her. Owned her. And she was going to prove it.
She pressed forward, fierce determination burning in her glowing eyes, her tongue flattening and her throat flexing with effort as she forced herself deeper onto the slick, twitching length. Weiss met her halfway, hips bucking forward with a hunger that was barely restrained, each motion slow but heavy with mounting desperation. The shared rhythm between them was primal, urgent—two bodies united by the singular, filthy desire to get every inch of that cock down Rebecca’s throat and hold it there.
Spit poured from the corners of her mouth, pooling at her chin and dripping in thick, obscene strings to the floor. Her lipstick smeared against the shaft as her lips slid down, again and again, gagging but never stopping. The stretch grew unbearable, and then it transcended—addictive, holy, the edge of something divine. Her throat fluttered around the intrusive girth, muscles spasming as she swallowed instinctively, each gulp massaging the meat deeper.
"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing," Weiss stammered breathlessly, voice high and raw, trembling with disbelief. Her fingers clawed at Rebecca’s scalp, tangling in green hair, holding her there. Her legs trembled, hips twitching as she fed Rebecca another inch, another pulse of heat. Rebecca’s hands weren’t holding her back—they were bracing, pulling herself in, eager to take more. She was greedy. Her throat visibly bulged with the shape of Weiss’s cock, grotesque and perfect, every inch swallowed mirrored in the outline that pressed against her skin. Her body was a canvas for Weiss’s cock, and she loved how obscene it looked.
She wasn’t choking—she was thriving on it.
Every nerve in Rebecca’s body lit up when her nose finally smashed against Weiss’s pelvis. The sensation was overwhelming, almost out-of-body, as if her flesh had become pure nerve endings, each one screaming with sensation. Her senses were swarmed—her chin cushioned by those heavy, musky balls, thick with sweat and heat, her nose buried in the intoxicating slick of Weiss’s skin. Her throat was completely choked full of cock, every inch of that massive shaft lodged deep, creating a pressure that bordered on pain but felt blissfully earned. Her eyes rolled back for a moment as her mind reeled from the sheer wrongness—and perfection—of how much cock was inside her.
Her body trembled with a shudder that rippled from her gut to her toes, a violent twitch of overstimulated nerves. Her hands clenched reflexively at Weiss's hips, nails biting into soft skin as if to ground herself through the waves of heat flooding her core. Her cunt throbbed helplessly, a pulsing ache matched only by the filthy gush of juices spilling onto her thighs, soaked and clinging obscenely to her folds. Her thighs twitched as another involuntary gush of wetness smeared down the insides of her legs, warm and humiliating in the best way. She was a mess—used, stuffed, overstimulated—and she had never felt more victorious.
She had done it. She had taken all of it. And she wasn't letting go.
Weiss’s sapphire eyes stared down with a feral, amused glint, watching the obscene bulge she made inside Rebecca's throat, the absolute filth of it. Her lips quirked with wicked pride as she admired the choke-glazed, tear-streaked expression on Rebecca’s face, the way her throat fluttered, obedient and open. "You look even better with a cock stuffed down your throat. Who would’ve guessed?" she taunted, her voice a syrupy drawl, laced with the kind of superiority that made Rebecca’s cunt clench. That smug, Schnee smirk—classic Weiss, the bratty, pent-up little heiress playing queen again—had never looked hotter. Rebecca might’ve regretted inviting her over if her throat wasn’t currently plugged with a cock that felt like it was engineered to ruin.
Almost. Almost regret. But not with that cock. Not with the way it throbbed inside her, so thick and needy her throat fluttered around it involuntarily, like her body wanted to milk it. Her lungs burned, her eyes streamed, but her cunt flooded harder than ever, need coating her thighs in hot shame. She moaned again, sending another ripple of wet heat through Weiss’s cock, and then slowly—inch by glistening inch—she began to pull back. Her lips suctioned tightly, throat contracting and spasming as she retreated, dragging a long, slick trail of spit over the shaft. It emerged shiny, wet, gloriously obscene, a testament to her complete submission and filthy technique, her mouth still wide around the base of the fat crown.
She let her tongue flick and swirl, teasing the swollen head with deliberate, sinful strokes—quick, cruel little fuck yous that made Weiss’s breath hitch and her hips twitch. She suckled just behind the ridge, tracing that sensitive edge with circling motions, savoring the way Weiss shuddered and cursed under her breath. Rebecca grinned, eyes flashing, before slamming herself back down in one hungry, practiced motion. Nose to pelvis again, throat swallowing every throb of that thick shaft like it was her birthright. Her entire face flushed from the exertion, lips ringed in spit, cheeks hollowed with effort and need.
Weiss groaned like something divine had broken loose inside her. "Fuck," she gasped, voice high and breathless, her fingers tightening in Rebecca’s hair with barely restrained desperation. And Rebecca just smiled around the stretch, drool spilling freely from her lips, eyes gleaming with victory, her body pulsing with pride.
She held herself a few long seconds down to the base of that perfect cock, choking a little with a few breathless gags as her throat stretched wide around the intrusive girth, savoring the ache as if it were ambrosia. Her eyes were wet, her mascara smeared into faint streaks as her lips clung around the shaft, a living ring of pressure holding Weiss firmly in place. When she finally eased back up, a deep gasp tore through her throat—only to dive again, harder, wetter, hungrier. Her head bobbed in a relentless rhythm, each drag up lined with her tongue dancing around the veiny crown before she plunged herself all the way to the hilt once more, nose burying into that sweaty pelvis like it was home.
One of her hands slithered down between their bodies, wrapping around Weiss's churning balls. They were massive in her palm, swollen and tight, pulsing with pent-up need. She felt them slosh, heavy with a payload that had her clit buzzing with anticipation. Each squeeze coaxed a deeper moan from Weiss, and she felt that sac grow even heavier, the weight of her coming orgasm building with every stroke of her tongue and every twist of her lips.
Rebecca pulled up again and this time, Weiss thrust forward, and their movements collided in perfect filth—one fucking, one being fucked. Spit flung from the corners of her lips, thick ropes trailing from her chin to the slick base of Weiss’s cock. Fat, sticky strings clung to her cheeks and throat, webbing her in the essence of her own depravity. It was a mutual rhythm now—Weiss fucking her throat, Rebecca slamming her face into that cock, both moving together in raw, hungry harmony. The obscene wet slaps echoed through the room, paired with moans, gags, and the delicious thrum of Rebecca’s heartbeat pounding in her ears.
“Fuck, that’s what I needed,” Weiss growled through gritted teeth, her voice breaking into a strained moan as she drove her hips forward again, forcing Rebecca down and holding her there—nose buried, throat bulging, balls slapping her chin. She kept her there, shuddering with delight, until Rebecca coughed around her shaft, a choked moan spilling past her lips. Only then did Weiss ease her grip, letting her pull back for air with a slick gasp.
And just a few seconds later, she was back in—mouth open, jaw slack, taking Weiss again like she craved it. "Who would have guessed that you could be such pleasant company?" Weiss chuckled with a breathless laugh, eyes glazed with arousal as she watched the saliva strings stretch and snap between her cock and Rebecca’s swollen lips.
They didn’t stop. Up and down. Over and over. That fat, girthy shaft plunged into Rebecca’s throat like a piston, building her from the inside out. Every thrust reshaped her throat, every retreat left her gasping and dripping. Weiss’s cock throbbed like it had a mind of its own—pulsing with excitement every time her tongue swirled around the tip. Rebecca didn’t need commands—her tongue knew where to be. Knew just how to wring out each decadent drop of precum from the weeping slit, thick and salty. She swallowed every taste, eyes rolling as her body reacted with twitching muscle and gushing cunt.
Her pussy and ass clenched tight with every breath, her mind flooded with images of being stuffed, stretched, ruined. She had a dozen filthy ideas forming in the haze of her arousal, plans that made her moan into the cock lodged in her mouth. But all of them could wait—because right now, she had a goal. She wanted Weiss to cum. Wanted that fat, overcharged cock to unload straight down her throat and fill her like she was made for it.
She sped up. Faster, harder, wetter. Her head bobbed with increasing ferocity, spit and precum coating her face in a glistening sheen, soaking into the green strands of her hair as it bounced in time with the rhythmic pounding. Her mouth had become a perfect, dripping sheath, lips ringed in glistening drool, cheeks hollowing with each forceful stroke. Her strokes blurred with ravenous need, nose slamming into Weiss’s pelvis with loud, wet smacks, her throat a tight, quivering tunnel of pure, submissive hunger. Balls slapped against her chin with every brutal thrust, the weighty orbs bouncing and swaying, their heat branding her flushed skin with every contact.
Weiss matched her greed with wicked precision, a cocky, breathless smirk tugging at her lips even as her face flushed crimson from the effort. Her hips snapped with heavier force, rutting forward like she couldn’t help herself, like Rebecca's mouth had become the only thing in the world worth fucking. “Someone’s greedy,” she gasped, her voice breaking into a breathy moan, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as her control unraveled. Her thrusts grew erratic, fueled by the intense suction, the obscene squelch of throat and spit and cock melding into one relentless rhythm.
Rebecca was in heaven. She could feel Weiss unraveling. Every twitch of her cock, every stagger in her thrust, was another note in the symphony of surrender. And Rebecca reveled in it—every droplet of precum was her prize, every pulse a promise of the load building in those swollen balls. Her hands pressed against Weiss’s thighs for balance, pushing herself into each drive, throat clenching, swallowing greedily as she moaned around that thick, pulsing shaft. Her entire body trembled, slick with sweat and arousal, her cunt drooling with anticipation. The pressure was building, electric in her veins, and she knew the climax was coming.
And she wanted every drop.
With one last brutal slam home, they sealed the deal. Rebecca impaled herself to the very base, lips stretched taut around Weiss's twitching cock, her throat sealed around it like a velvet vice. Her tongue emerged in a haze of spit and desperation, massaging those pulsating, overfilled orbs with practiced, reverent strokes—one hand cupping them lovingly while her tongue laved at the sensitive skin like it was sacred. The weight of them in her palm, swollen and tense, throbbed with glorious finality. They were ready.
Weiss moaned, her voice breaking with shuddering release as she clenched her grip tight in Rebecca’s green strands of hair. Her own head fell back, mouth parting in a cry of helpless pleasure, her body locking up in waves of tension. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling, as her cock throbbed—once, twice—then burst.
The first load was devastating. A thick, obscene geyser of cum exploded straight down Rebecca’s gullet, splattering hot against the spasming walls of her throat. It was like swallowing syrup-thick cream, rich and burning with decadent salt. It gushed out in a brutal torrent, coating everything it touched. Rebecca moaned deep in her throat, eyes rolling as her world narrowed to that taste—spunk so potent it seared into her memory. Her nose was buried in Weiss’s pelvis, her mouth flooded with cock, and her throat was under siege from the obscene pressure of that thick, fertile release.
The balls throbbed again in her hand—stronger, harder—drawing up, winning their fight against gravity as they unloaded again. Another spurt. Then another. Each blast was a punishment, a reward, a divine indulgence. Spurt after thick, white-hot spurt shot into Rebecca’s mouth, and she swallowed like a woman possessed, never letting even a drop escape. Her belly fluttered from the heat pooling in it, warmth expanding as she was filled deeper and deeper.
The cock didn’t stop. It kept throbbing, pulsing, unloading like a fucking firehose, and Rebecca took it all with desperate pride. Thirty glorious seconds of nonstop climax, each moment heavier, messier, more indulgent than the last, flooding her throat and gut like she was nothing more than a cum dumpster meant to be filled. Her throat flexed instinctively, swallowing around that monstrous shaft with relentless need, every gulp another wet, obscene kiss of devotion. Cum spilled past her lips in fat, creamy dribbles only to be slurped back down in greedy gasps.
Her cunt spasmed in sympathy, an echo of the orgasm spilling into her throat, each pulse of that cock sparking fresh gushes of slick that dripped down her thighs in sticky streams. Her clit throbbed without touch, lips quivering from the overwhelming pleasure of simply being used. Her stomach clenched around the building warmth inside her, thick and hot and heavy with Weiss's cum, bloating her belly just enough to make her acutely aware of how much she had taken.
Weiss moaned again, a sharp, cracking sound that sent shivers up Rebecca’s spine. Her knees nearly buckled as her body tensed from the aftershocks, cock still twitching violently in Rebecca’s throat. It was a primal kind of release—endless, feral, and messy—something neither of them had planned but both had needed.
Finally—finally—the orgasm began to fade. The last few spurts of that vicious cream came in slower, lazier arcs, thick and sticky, oozing like honey from the twitching slit, dribbling from the corners of Rebecca's mouth and down her chin. Weiss groaned low and deep, her body trembling with spent satisfaction as she eased her cock back with a trembling hand, fingers still tangled in Rebecca’s hair. The thick, glistening crown popped from her swollen lips with a wet, sloppy pop that echoed like a lewd punctuation mark in the charged silence of the room.
Rebecca gasped for breath, her mouth gaping and wet, cum webbing between her tongue and lips. She didn’t cough—she purred, basking in the afterglow, her tongue flicking out to gather the sticky remnants smeared along her lips. That cock—still firm, still twitching—slapped across her face, heavy and warm, like a brand claiming her. Hot cum smeared across her cheek and nose, a slick, decadent mark of ownership that made her grin.
“Oh, wow,” Weiss gasped, her breath ragged as she struggled to recover.
“You can say that,” Rebecca rasped, voice raw with use and satisfaction, her lips swollen and her face painted in triumph. She swallowed again, slowly, savoring the taste as her tongue licked her lips clean. Her throat burned perfectly, stretched and sore in all the best ways. She tilted her head up, eyes glittering with mischief. “But don’t think we’re done now.”
Her hand rose to that still-hard cock pulsing atop her cheek, cum-slick and throbbing with lewd promise, and she grinned, tongue flicking out to taste the lingering musk staining her skin. Weiss grinned back, breath still heavy, her pale cheeks flushed and glistening. “Oh, we are just getting started,” the white-haired girl purred, her voice dipped in sultry challenge, and with one last wet smack, she slapped her spit-slicked cock against Rebecca’s cheek, leaving a fresh trail of filth.
Rebecca licked her lips and let out a low chuckle, then pulled herself up to her feet, every inch of her body still humming with tension and anticipation. "You're really cocky since you whipped that dick out, you know that?" she teased, eyes gleaming with mischief. Weiss gave a casual shrug, strutting toward the nearby couch like she owned the room. "I know," she replied smugly, and with a flick of her wrist, delivered a sharp little slap to Rebecca’s ass.
The mercenary gave a mock scowl, but there was no hiding the eager twitch of her hips as she rolled her eyes and climbed onto the couch. She got on all fours with practiced grace, her small perky little breasts bouncing as she settled into position. Her ass lifted high, round and perfect, jiggling just slightly with the motion as she waggled it with exaggerated enticement. Her soaked folds glistened between her thighs, but she kept her stance firm, offering only her ass, her pucker twitching with barely-contained need.
Weiss approached with slow, deliberate steps, her cock still standing proud and veiny, not a trace of fatigue in sight despite the ruinous load she’d just dumped down Rebecca’s throat. That shaft pulsed like it was carved from sex itself—still thick, still drooling, still demanding, a meat rod aching for more action. Each step she took was a slow tease, letting that veined monolith sway with every stride, dripping precum like a leaky faucet ready to burst again. “Oh? Doggy style?” she purred with a predatory smirk, eyes glued to Rebecca’s swaying hips. Her hands found that perfect bubble butt and sank in immediately. Greedy, rough, worshipful. She kneaded the flesh like she was molding it for herself, thumbs dipping into the soft dip between the cheeks, spreading them wide with reverent hunger. The scent of sweat, sex, and pure Rebecca hit her like a freight train—hot, raw, animalistic.
Between the parted cheeks lay her prize: two perfect holes, the pussy glistening with syrupy wetness, the asshole twitching and fluttering like it was begging for attention. The skin was flushed, sensitive, the kind of wanton display that made Weiss’s cock twitch with appreciation. The meaty tip drooled a fat string of precum that stretched from the head to Rebecca’s lower back, a sticky, lewd thread that only deepened the visual filth.
“What to fuck first?” Weiss drawled, voice thick with lust and that signature Schnee arrogance. She gave a slow grind between the cheeks, her cockhead dragging a sticky line of heat as it nestled right in the valley of Rebecca’s ass, slicking her skin with every lazy pump. Rebecca looked over her shoulder with a faux serious expression, cyberoptics gleaming, tongue flicking against her lips.
“You’re gonna fuck my ass, okay?” she said, tone mock stern, the kind of voice that didn’t ask—it commanded. “Only my ass. Pussy’s off-limits. Got it?”
Weiss gasped, hand flying to her chest like she’d been mortally wounded. “Oh nooo,” she whined with theatrical despair, pouting with exaggerated drama, her lower lip jutting out like she expected sympathy. “You wound me, Rebecca.”
Rebecca snorted, flipping her green hair over one shoulder with a casual flick. “Stop stalling and get to the fucking already,” she growled, sultry and eager. Her hips rolled in invitation, and she threw her ass back with exaggerated flair. Her asshole winked open as she flexed, a delicate, twitching rosebud that pulsed with lewd intent—slick with anticipation, glistening with need, and absolutely ready to be split wide by that fat, pulsing cock.
Weiss inhaled sharply, a lust-laced gasp dragging into her lungs like the air itself had become electric. With every nerve alight and a shudder of need racing through her limbs, she stepped forward, planting one foot solidly beside Rebecca for leverage, the muscles in her thighs flexing with restrained hunger. Her breath hitched as her hand wrapped around her thick, drooling cock and aligned the tip to the twitching, tight ring of Rebecca’s ass—a pucker slick with the mix of sweat, spit, and the lingering coat of cum from earlier debauchery. "You don’t need to tell me twice," Weiss murmured with unrepentant glee, her voice husky and vibrating with lewd promise. The heat of her shaft burned between them as she ground the heavy, glistening head right up against that twitching hole, letting Rebecca feel the stretch before it even began.
Rebecca hissed through her teeth, eyes fluttering half-shut as she felt that slippery pressure bloom across her sensitive rim. The cold slick of leftover saliva and jizz kissed her skin, teasing her with filthy contrast to the blazing girth about to invade her. Weiss took a moment to lube up properly, rubbing her cock between the cheeks, letting the slick mess smear across that tight ring until it gleamed. Rebecca opened her mouth to speak—some snark, some taunt—but never got the words out.
"What are—" she began, voice faltering as Weiss surged forward.
Not brutal. Not slow. Just perfect. A measured, practiced thrust that split her open with sheer, unrelenting thickness. The head popped past her ring with a stretching burn, and then inch after inch of throbbing cock forced its way inside. Rebecca’s breath caught violently, her eyes wide and lips parted in a silent scream as her back arched against the stretch. Her inner walls clamped and fluttered, spasming wildly around that invader, milking it like her body didn’t want to let it go. She could feel every vein drag along the sensitive flesh of her insides, each pulse like a shockwave of bliss that made her toes curl. Her vision blurred around the edges, and her core trembled with every second of fullness, her guts twisting with perverse delight at how deep she was being speared.
Weiss groaned, a raw, low growl of pleasure that vibrated from her chest as she pushed deeper into the molten heat of Rebecca’s ass. That tight, vice-like squeeze gripped her shaft like a velvet fist, the muscles twitching as they adjusted to every thick inch. "Fuck, you’re tight," she gasped, her voice cracking under the strain of holding back. Her hands squeezed Rebecca's hips, fingers digging in possessively as she held her steady. She was only halfway in, and already it felt like heaven—a slow, molten spiral of bliss pulling her deeper into the tightest, hottest hole she’d ever known.
Rebecca clawed at the sheets, her knuckles white as she braced herself against the overwhelming sensation. Her mind was a whirl of lust and pleasure, her hole stretched to the brink and loving every second. Don’t scream. Don’t give her the fucking satisfaction, she told herself, but a helpless moan still tore free, high and broken as Weiss pushed further. Each slow, grinding inch drove deeper into her guts, filling her to a point she didn’t think possible. Her pucker clung desperately to the thick shaft, resisting and yielding in rhythmic spasms. Her belly ached from the pressure, nerves flaring in tandem with every maddening pulse of that cock.
The room spun with overstimulation as Weiss’s pelvis finally met the swell of Rebecca’s ass with a soft, wet thud. The sound echoed like the closing of a lock—cock to hole, puzzle complete—and Rebecca felt her breath catch in a stuttering gasp, her whole body trembling from the raw, relentless invasion.
A moan ripped from Rebecca’s throat. “Holy fuck,” she whimpered, hips twitching as she felt Weiss begin to grind—not pulling out, just pressing, angling her hips with precise, devastating force that rubbed her cock against every sweet spot hidden deep within. Her ass was stuffed—over a foot of monstrous cock lodged inside, stretching her open in ways that defied reason. It was thick, unrelenting, and now, fully inside her, it pulsed like a heartbeat, alive with need. Her entire body quivered under the weight of that fullness, every muscle clenched and trembling as Weiss held her there, impaled and moaning, ruined and wanting more.
“Now don’t cum too fast,” Weiss teased with a smug smirk, her voice dipped in velvety arrogance as she ground her hips forward one more inch, watching the full-body shiver that rocked through Rebecca’s frame like she’d been jolted with electricity. Rebecca’s thoughts shattered beneath the pressure of that cock—every nerve in her body sang with unholy fire, her pulse pounding between her ears and her every breath dragging ragged through trembling lips. Fuck, fuck, fuck, she chanted in her mind, legs quivering, spine arched as her ring clenched around the monstrous girth stretching her open in a way that felt illegal.
The burn was divine. The stretch a slow-motion car crash of sensation—flesh forced open, nerves flaring, her body trying to accommodate the sheer size splitting her apart. And just as she was getting used to the pressure, Weiss pulled out. Half the cock retreated with a slick, wet slurp, and the sudden emptiness made Rebecca clench, walls spasming around the retreating shaft in desperate protest, sucking at the girth like her body refused to let it leave. That greedy grip only made Weiss groan with hunger as she slammed forward again, the thrust brutal, precise—cock buried to the root with a meaty smack as her hips met Rebecca’s trembling cheeks. Her heavy balls swung up and slapped against her thighs with a vulgar, wet thud, and her ass rippled, a hypnotic quake that made even Weiss hiss through her teeth.
She didn't stop. Weiss pulled back again, her cock dragging through the trembling velvet of Rebecca’s guts, every vein scraping nerves raw, the textured girth leaving trails of raw sensitivity that made her entire body twitch. And then she plunged in again—harder this time, faster, deeper—like she meant to carve herself into Rebecca’s insides and stay there. The thrust shook her down to the bones. Her muscles trembled from the sheer impact, her toes curling into the couch as she felt the cock slam past that sweet, impossibly deep spot with precision that only came from someone who knew how to break a girl open.
The rhythm that followed was pure filth. Practiced. Vicious in its beauty. Weiss fucked like a machine given flesh, every movement smooth but brutal, each thrust a sculpted masterpiece. Downward angles that mashed Rebecca’s insides just right, timed slaps of hips on cheeks that sent ripples through her trembling body, the perfect depth that had her seeing stars. Her voice cracked open with every moan—raw, helpless, drenched in need. She wasn’t speaking words anymore, only panting fragments and shattered sobs as her cunt gushed in spasms of helpless pleasure, slick streaming down her thighs with every brutal pump.
Her arms gave out. Her shoulders slumped. Her back arched like a bow about to break, body caught between tension and collapse. Her face pressed deep into the cushions as her cries turned into song—an aria of depravity, high and breathless, notes torn from a girl who had long since stopped trying to hold back. Her thoughts were a whirl of lightning and heat, her mind splintered on the edge of every thrust. She’s fucking me so deep—so hard—oh fuck I can’t take it—yes you can—oh god yes fuck— the thoughts spiraled, pleasure crashing into her like waves.
Plap Plap Plap.
That sound filled the air, the metronome of a hole being properly ruined. Obscene and wet, the drumbeat of cheeks clapping back into Weiss’s hips in perfect sync. Weiss didn’t relent—not even close. Her breath came in ragged, animalistic pants, sweat dotting her pale skin as her body trembled with exertion. Her hands gripped Rebecca’s hips, pulling her back onto every brutal thrust, her eyes locked on the hypnotic jiggle of that perfect ass bouncing from each impact. It was like fucking a doll made of velvet and desperation. Every time she pulled out, Rebecca whimpered like she was dying. Every time she slammed back in, Rebecca moaned like she’d been saved.
Her eyes rolled so far back they could’ve gotten stuck. Her tongue lolled out, lips parted in a silent scream of mindless bliss. Her body was jelly, her limbs twitching in time with the pounding that never let up. Weiss fucked her like she meant it—with hunger, with intent, with the feral determination of a girl chasing orgasm not as a gift, but a fucking punishment. The pleasure was too much. The pressure, the friction, the fullness—it all fused into one screaming crescendo in Rebecca’s guts, every nerve lit up like a switchboard. All that existed was Weiss. Her cock. And the delicious, total destruction of her hole.
"Fuckfuckfuck" Rebecca's muffled cries were soaked in desperation as her face mashed into the plush cushions, her whole body trembling like a live wire. Weiss hit that impossible angle again, and again, and again, each deep grind of her hips forcing stars to burst behind Rebecca's cyberoptics. That cock—that monster—was perfectly aligned to destroy her, slamming into a pleasure spot she hadn’t even known existed until it had become her whole world. Every pump was a seismic event inside her. Her moans pitched high, broken things, shattered by each merciless thrust that fucked the air right out of her lungs.
Her pussy was long forgotten—everything now was her ass, stretched to ruin and still greedily clutching at the fat beast inside her. Her guts spasmed with every drag of the veiny shaft scraping her from the inside. It was too good. Too much. Her mind went blank, her breath hitching into ragged pants, drool spilling from her mouth as every thrust dragged her closer to a finish that was poised to devastate.
Weiss was panting too, her breath ragged and heavy, face twisted in unfiltered bliss. Her mouth hung open, saliva dripping from the corner of her lip as her hips hammered home, driving herself balls-deep with each thrust. "Shit—how do you feel this good?" she growled, half delirious as Rebecca's vice-tight ass milked her cock with fluttering spasms that screamed orgasm. Her grip tightened on Rebecca's waist, nails biting into soft flesh as she let herself go, body slamming forward with brutal grace. That cock twitched, thick veins pulsing, her balls swinging and tensing as the green-haired merc's body trembled beneath her.
Then it hit. Rebecca's climax didn't crash—it erupted. A scream tore from her throat, shredded and raw, as her whole body seized. Her muscles locked, her back arched, and for a brief moment she was gone—vision wiped to white, her brain shattering into jagged stars of unbearable, relentless bliss. Her ass clamped down like a vice, her ring spasming wildly around that embedded cock, milking it, begging it to cum. Her own juices gushed out, wetting the couch, dripping from her neglected cunt as it convulsed in sympathy with her ruined hole.
And Weiss gave in. With a low, animalistic groan, she slammed forward one last time, her hips jerking as her orgasm detonated deep inside that stretched, abused ass. Her cock jerked, then fired—a brutal, thick-hot eruption of cum that exploded in Rebecca's guts like molten honey. The first spurt alone felt like a gallon, painting her insides in boiling white, flooding every inch of her colon with syrup-thick seed. Shot after devastating shot pumped into her, heavy ropes that filled her full to bursting, leaking around the tightly-sealed shaft and oozing out in sticky rivers down her thighs.
Rebecca’s body convulsed again, her nerves still in climax’s grip as her belly filled with seed, her mind still spinning in the aftermath of her own orgasm. Her limbs refused to respond—dead weight, twitching from aftershocks. Her eyes rolled, lips parting with breathless moans as she felt herself being filled past reason. Her belly swelled slightly, skin tight with the sheer volume Weiss poured into her, her guts painted with load after glorious, indecent load. Cum gushed from her, splattering the couch in thick puddles, soaking the cushion below.
Every twitch of Weiss’s cock inside her sent another ripple of pleasure radiating through Rebecca’s overstimulated frame, making her shudder as more of that thick cream oozed out from her overstuffed ass. She could feel the heat deep in her belly, a dense, molten weight that left her dizzy, her brain trying and failing to grasp just how much had been pumped into her. Her abdomen rose and fell with each trembling breath, her skin stretched with a tight ache that teetered on the edge of pain but never quite crossed over. It was obscene. Excessive. Perfect.
Her asshole quivered around the retreating cock, spasming helplessly as Weiss finally began to ease back, her shaft dragging slow and wet through the clenching heat. Cum clung to her cock in thick ropes, stretching between them like molten glue, webbing across Rebecca’s cheeks and dripping from her gaping hole in messy, decadent trails. Rebecca whimpered, low and breathy, her voice cracked from screaming, her body shivering as that fat cock finally popped free with a sticky, wet plop. The sensation made her legs kick weakly, her toes curling as her hole gaped open wide and leaked, a steady, humiliating flow of cum spilling from her abused entrance and trailing down her thighs.
Her fingers twitched against the soaked couch, still too weak to prop herself up. Her thoughts were a tangle of bliss and confusion, her mind reduced to a fog of heat and pulse and fullness. Cum trickled in slow rivulets down the curves of her thighs, pooling under her trembling knees. She had never felt so wrecked. So completely used. And she loved it. Every drop seeping out of her made her cunt clench again, greedy for more even as her body begged for rest.
A lazy, satisfied sigh slipped from her lips, the faintest ghost of a smile curling her spit-slicked mouth. Her lashes fluttered against flushed cheeks as she let her head sink into the cushion, soaking in the warmth and filth coating every inch of her skin. Her hole twitched again, cum bubbling free in another gush, soaking the couch even further.
“I guess you aren’t as bad as I feared,” Rebecca taunted, voice slurred and soaked in exhaustion, her breathless tone an utterly transparent attempt at sass. Her lips curled into a lopsided grin, but her body betrayed her—limp, spent, trembling with aftershocks that still danced up her spine. She didn’t even have the energy to sass about Weiss pumping two gut-wrecking loads into her back-to-back. Her mind was a haze of heat and bliss, fogged over like city glass after a shower, but then—she felt Weiss move behind her.
Her eyes flew open.
“Hope you’re not tapping out just yet,” Weiss cooed, voice syrup-smooth and thick with smug satisfaction, and before Rebecca could even gasp, strong arms coiled around her legs, hoisting her up like she weighed nothing. Her spine bowed back, legs lifted high, heels flanking her ears as Weiss repositioned her into a full nelson—folded tight, her own body now a quivering, overstretched frame cradled in surprisingly powerful arms. Her hands gripped beneath Rebecca’s knees, the merc’s ass now suspended above that monstrous, still-throbbing shaft. Weiss held her like a prize, like a toy, like a personal fuck-puppet and Rebecca felt everything.
She looked down.
That cock. Still hard. Veins bulging, the shaft shiny and streaked with the sticky sheen of their mingled mess. It pulsed, angry and ready, coated in the thick glaze of cum it had just unloaded, as though it hadn’t just buried itself to the hilt. It was obscene—impossibly erect, a testament to Weiss’s sheer inhuman stamina. And Rebecca, gaping, barely had time to suck in a breath before the swollen crown was back, pressing against the stretched rim of her abused hole. Still hungry.
She whimpered—then screamed.
Weiss thrust up from below, spearing that fat shaft back into her with merciless precision. Her whole body jerked, eyes crossing, breath catching in her throat as her insides yielded again. Her asshole gave way with a slick pop, then a stretched gasp as the thick cock sunk back into the heat Weiss had just bred. “Shit—!” she choked out, voice trembling, lost in the blinding surge of sensation. Her muscles seized, her legs twitching high beside her ears as Weiss started again, that brutal rhythm hammering up from beneath.
Weiss didn’t fuck—she bounced her. Rebecca’s limp form jiggled with every impact, her pale, overstretched ass slapped down onto that unrelenting meat stick only to be hoisted up again, thighs quivering, cunt dripping untouched and ignored. Weiss’s grip on her legs never faltered—fingers digging into soft flesh just beneath the curve of her knees, holding her folded tight like a living cocksleeve. Each motion was seamless and brutal, like pistons in a machine. The sound was pure filth—skin on skin, wet and brutal, echoing through the sweat-drenched room.
Rebecca’s cries came in rhythm, high-pitched and cracked, voice a chorus of helpless overstimulation. Every bounce wasn’t just physical—it was mental annihilation, shattering her into fragments of sensation. Her skin was slick with sweat, gleaming under the neon strip light above, her pink tattoos practically glowing as they danced across her trembling belly. Her green hair whipped with the motion, sticking to her flushed cheeks as her eyes rolled, barely conscious, but so far from done.
Those huge, cum-laden balls slapped against her again, fat and obscene, still churning with weight despite the two heavy loads already dumped deep into her guts. They struck her with a loud, sticky smack every time Weiss bottomed out, the fleshy slap echoing with wet percussion that kept time with her gasps. Rebecca felt the weight of them as they hit, as they dragged down with the momentum, a constant reminder of just how much more Weiss could still give. Her brain couldn’t take it, couldn’t wrap itself around the obscene stamina, the brutal strength—it just surrendered, letting her drown in the rhythm, the heat, the total domination.
Her fingers twitched uselessly in the air, her body now reduced to a trembling toy in Weiss’s arms. Her moans had gone wordless, just breathy sounds and high whimpers that grew louder every time her guts were rearranged by that cock. The couch beneath them squelched with slick, stained thoroughly by sweat and semen and everything she couldn’t hold in anymore. And still—Weiss kept going, like a beautiful machine built for one singular purpose: wrecking her from the inside out.
Every time Weiss bottomed out, every time she packed that over-a-foot of unholy cock back into her bruised and battered insides, Rebecca saw stars. Her vision pulsed, her nerves lit up like gunfire, and her brain just quit. Her jaw hung open, no words, just breathless moans and drool, her thoughts reduced to fuckfuckfuckfuck. Her body shook in Weiss’s hold, and deep down, she wasn’t sure she even wanted it to stop.
Every pump sent a fresh blaze of heat crackling through her gut, like lightning bolts arcing across her nerves. Her breath hitched and sputtered with every thrust, eyes wide and barely focused, caught in a loop of fucked-out delirium. The sound of her own choking moans, wet and raw, filled the air between the wet slap of flesh. She felt the sweat dripping down the back of her neck, trailing between her shoulder blades, every droplet igniting more awareness of just how wrecked her body had become. She couldn’t even clench anymore—her hole gaped on every withdrawal, clinging around Weiss’s shaft like it didn’t want to let go.
Her belly was visibly bulging with every drive of that monstrous cock, each thrust displacing soft flesh in obscene distortion. She saw it, felt it, lived it—the way her abdomen warped to accommodate all of Weiss’s brutal length, pressing up under her ribs and staying there, a grotesque echo of just how thoroughly she was being rearranged. Her hands clawed at empty air, searching for anything to ground her, to anchor herself in the reality that she was still a person and not just a cock-shaped mold.
And still—Weiss didn’t slow. The cock inside her throbbed, alive with impossible heat and pressure, grinding against the deepest limits of her body. Weiss’s grip only tightened, folding her tighter, using her like a sleeve built for abuse. Rebecca’s toes curled, her thighs trembling uselessly as her own cunt leaked, untouched, jealous and drenched from the sheer stimulation wrecking her ass. Her stomach clenched with every bounce, every drop down and slam up, a vicious cycle of pleasure and punishment that blurred the line between pleasure and mindbreak.
Rebecca didn’t even know how long it had gone on—minutes? Hours? Days? Time had collapsed into a flickering haze of raw sensation, an endless storm of aching pressure and electric shocks pulsing through every fiber of her being. Her reality shrank to that brutal rhythm, that punishing stretch, the unbearable fullness that made her nerves scream and her brain whimper. Her limbs hung uselessly, boneless in Weiss’s grip, her back arched into the air as she was used like a fuckdoll sculpted from lust and need. Her mind floated in that white-hot abyss, her thoughts melted into whimpers and broken gasps, her voice cracking on every breathless scream that tore itself free from her lips.
Every slam of Weiss’s monstrous cock felt like being impaled on a steel beam dipped in molten heat. It wasn’t just size—it was force, velocity, precision. Each thrust punched into her with mechanical certainty, sending shockwaves of overstimulation rocketing through her core. Her cheeks burned with heat, her jaw slack, drool slipping from the corner of her mouth as she struggled to even stay aware of where she ended and Weiss’s cock began. The savage plundering of her battered hole drowned out thought, drowned out air, leaving her breathless, boneless, bound to nothing but the rhythm.
Then it came again.
A brutal, body-claiming eruption of cum slammed into her insides, exploding with heat that made her vision white out. Her whole body locked as her guts were filled again, the third—or was it fourth?—roiling load gushing deep into her bowels like a hose turned on full blast. Her hole clenched around the invading shaft, desperate and useless, as cum flooded her, thick and molten and endless. Her belly swelled slightly under the sheer volume, her body struggling to accommodate the latest obscene gift. Weiss groaned low and heavy, the sound animal, victorious, vibrating through Rebecca’s bones as her cock throbbed and pulsed like a second heartbeat deep inside her.
Her orgasm detonated behind her navel like a firework, raw and primal. It wasn’t a climax—it was annihilation. Her spine arched, her muscles spasmed, and her throat tore open on a wail that could’ve cracked glass. Her eyes rolled back as every cell in her body seized and convulsed in ecstasy. Her toes curled beside her ears, her heels digging against the air as her own release splashed against her belly from the untouched cunt between her thighs. Cum, her own and Weiss’s, spilled down her body in obscene streaks.
“W-Weiss,” she tried to say, but her voice broke into fragments. “Holy fuck, you’re—”
She never finished.
The world tilted—Rebecca was thrown, tossed like a spent ragdoll onto the couch with such force her breath caught in her chest. Her spine bounced once against the sweat-slick cushions, the familiar sting of overstretched muscles jolting through her as her ass landed with a wet squish that echoed obscenely in the haze-drenched air. The couch swallowed her weight, but she had no time to even catch the gasp that rose in her throat. Weiss was already on her, relentless, climbing over her like a predator reclaiming her prey, that cock—that fucking cock—still hard, still twitching, still slathered in the sloppy mess of their earlier rounds.
Rebecca barely had time to think before Weiss seized her legs, lifting them high, pinning her thighs into her ribs with a brutal, practiced efficiency. She was folded, turned into a tight, trembling display of need—shoulders flat against the couch, knees damn near touching her ears, her ass fully exposed and tilted, practically presenting itself for the next savage assault. The sheer heat radiating off Weiss’s body soaked into her as their skin met, the girl’s breath heavy, her tiara now skewed and glinting under the dim neon above. That cock—fat, veiny, still shining with the sheen of cum and spit—pressed into the air between them, angling back toward Rebecca’s gaping, twitching entrance like a battering ram ready for another siege.
The mating press wasn’t just sex. It was surrender. Her body felt compacted under Weiss’s weight, her knees trembling as the pale girl hovered above, cockhead teasing her used hole like it knew how close she was to breaking again. Rebecca's hands fluttered helplessly at her sides, eyes locked on the obscene image of Weiss looming between her own legs, that thick shaft poised like a loaded weapon.
“Turn it down a little?” she managed to gasp between ragged moans, her voice paper-thin and hoarse, trembling with awe and exhaustion. Her eyes, wide and glistening with overstimulated tears, locked on Weiss's icy stare as that monstrous cock pressed, smeared with slick and cum, against the abused ring of her asshole.
Weiss’s answer was immediate. "No," she growled, lips crashing into hers with punishing hunger, and the moment their mouths met, all of Rebecca’s thoughts shattered.
Their kiss was fire, hot and consuming, full of tongue and teeth, raw with the kind of animal lust that burned deeper than skin. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was conquest—Weiss claiming her mouth as thoroughly as she had her ass. The thick cock at her entrance throbbed, nudged, then plunged again, and everything—sensation, time, thought—blurred into blissful oblivion for Rebecca.
Rebecca downed another shot of hard liquor in her favorite bar, the glass clinking against the counter as her throat burned in that familiar, bitter rush. She shifted on the stool with a wince, her hips rolling awkwardly to avoid pressure on the deep ache throbbing in her backside. Her ass still hurt like hell—an angry soreness that lingered from yesterday’s marathon pounding, and no matter how many times she clenched or adjusted, the ghost of Weiss’s cock still echoed in her guts. That night hadn’t just bruised her body—it had rewired her brain. Just thinking about it had her lip trapped between her teeth, a faint whimper caught behind every slow breath.
Thankfully, she was alone. No witnesses. No one to notice the involuntary flush crawling up her neck or the subtle tremble in her thighs as she shifted again. At least, she thought she was alone—until the hiss of the bar’s automatic doors pried open and in strutted the last person she needed to see.
Weiss moved like she owned the place, heels clicking, silver tiara catching the bar's low light, a smug little bounce in her step as if the air itself parted just for her. Her eyes locked on Rebecca instantly, and that playful, annoyingly pretty smirk pulled across her lips like she’d already won something. Rebecca groaned softly, about to look away, but Weiss was already beside her. Closing the gap with feline grace and sliding up to the bar like she’d always belonged there.
“How you doing?” Weiss purred, voice syrup-sweet and laced with knowing amusement. Then without much ceremony her hand snuck behind Rebecca and latched onto her sore, tender ass with zero hesitation, fingers squeezing possessively like she was laying claim.
Rebecca choked on her drink. Literally. The liquor went the wrong way, burning its way up her nose as she slapped the counter, coughing through a sputtering laugh that scraped at her throat. Her shoulders twitched, a ripple of half-laughter, half-panic as the surprise of that greedy hand on her sore ass nearly short-circuited her whole nervous system. She tried—really tried—to put bite in her voice, to mask the flush that bloomed under her cheeks and spread heat down her neck. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes, but even to her own ears the tremble in her voice was painfully obvious. It wasn’t anger. It was want. That husky little quiver in her tone betrayed her in the worst way—because it wasn’t new. Her traitorous body remembered everything.
The burn of Weiss’s fingers against her skin. The way that grip lingered, even after the act. The casual weight of ownership in her palm like she deserved to hold her like that. Her cheeks clenched around the pressure automatically, not out of resistance, but reflex. Every nerve below her waist fired off signals—hot, electric, throbbing.
Weiss didn’t answer. Not at first. She just stayed there, smug and calm, her presence a wall of self-satisfied cool. Her thumb moved again, slow and taunting, tracing a lazy circle over the bruised flesh like she was testing the tenderness. The motion was deliberate—intimate. It made Rebecca’s thighs tense, one leg twitching involuntarily as her breath caught in her throat. The silence between them grew thick and charged, pulsing with things unsaid.
Then, finally, Weiss spoke. Her voice was that same impossible blend of aristocratic cold and street-slick confidence, like silk wrapped around a scalpel.
“Relax,” she said, barely above a whisper, and yet somehow it cut straight through the hum of the bar. “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to offer something smart. We don’t have to like each other. But we both know you’re good at what you do—and so am I. Better than all those half-wit chromeheads out there. It’s stupid to keep avoiding it. We should work together.”
Rebecca blinked. Her brain stuttered for a second, caught off-guard by the sudden pivot into professionalism—especially with that fucking hand still gripping her ass like a goddamn stress ball. She could feel the bruises from last night pressing up against the callused pads of Weiss’s fingers, that soreness flaring with every subtle shift of pressure.
“And you had to grab me to make that pitch?” she muttered, half incredulous, half breathless, her voice cracked with disbelief and something filthier tangled beneath. She tried to twist slightly in her seat, dislodge that invading grip, but all it did was grind her hip deeper against Weiss’s wrist. Her breath hitched. “If you’re gonna keep doing that, I want sixty percent of the cut.”
Weiss didn’t even blink. Her lips quirked into a sly smile, eyes glittering. “Done.” She flagged the bartender without breaking eye contact, snapping her fingers once. “Another round.”
Rebecca watched the motion, still reeling. The sheer audacity of it all—Weiss offering her a job with one hand and fingering the aftermath of last night with the other. She looked down at her glass, fingers tightening around it.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just sat there, pulse racing, mind spiraling in ten directions. The jobs. The money. The fucking. The way Weiss’s finger flexed slightly like it wasn’t going anywhere.
“What the fuck am I getting myself into…” she muttered, not really expecting an answer, just as Weiss leaned in close and, without the slightest warning, slipped a single, daring finger between the seams of her shorts. Just like that.