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rubyjade · 9 days ago

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Dirty Work

Starring: Male oc x Giselle Aespa

Tags: Crime, Corruption, Drug, Titjob, blowjob, Facial, Turn table sex, Petplay, Mommy Kink, Sex Anger, Cheating, Power Play, Dom Women, Mommy Kink

Lengths: 10k.

Note: A little cameo from the other Aespa members.

"Damn it," you murmur to yourself, staring at the Supernova Nightclub, a neon monolith that stands out against the grimy backdrop of the city like a disco-infused oasis.

The heavy bass thumps rhythmically, pulsing through the concrete and into your chest. You've been watching the place for weeks, feeling the tension coil tighter with every passing night. As you exhale heavily, a cloud of smoke escapes your lips, mingling with the urban haze that envelops the streets.

You've been gathering intel on Giselle, the enigmatic club owner, whose fiery red hair and smoky eyes seem to cast a spell over everyone who enters her establishment. But it's not just her beauty that's got you hooked; it's the whisper of something darker, something that's been keeping you up at night, your mind racing with the possibilities of what goes on beyond those velvet curtains.

When you brought the information to your superiors, the room had gone quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall, which seemed to echo your racing heartbeat. You'd laid it all out, the rumors of a prostitution ring, the suspicious transactions that reeked of illicit drugs. But their response was as cold as the coffee on the desk:

"No warrant, no search." The words hung in the air like a fog, thick with frustration.

Now, you stand in the shadow of an alleyway across the street from the Supernova, binoculars in hand, watching the club's nightly ritual unfold. You've gone rogue, driven by a sense of duty that outweighs the badge on your chest. The black car pulls up, sleek and silent as a shark in the moonlit waters of the city's underbelly. The engine purrs to a stop, and the doors open, revealing a quartet of burly men in suits. They stand sentinel, their eyes scanning the street, their muscles taut and ready to spring.

You zoom in, and there she is: Giselle. She emerges from the car, her fiery hair a stark contrast to the leopard-print crop top that clings to her ample breasts. The fur coat draped over her shoulders frames her voluptuous figure, and the dark leather skirt hugs her curves like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. Her legs, long and shapely, seem to glide over the sidewalk as she struts towards the club, her stiletto heels clicking like the tick of a time bomb. Despite the chilly night air, she wears sunglasses that reflect the neon lights, adding an air of mystery to her already captivating presence.

Her entourage of bodyguards and employees fall into step around her, their movements sharp and precise. Each one of them bows their head slightly as she passes, a silent testament to her power and influence. She doesn't acknowledge them, her gaze fixed ahead as if the very act of looking at her subjects would be a waste of her time. The power dynamic is clear: she's the queen of this twisted kingdom, and they're just her pawns.

"Just wait for Giselle," you murmur to yourself, clenching your fists in the pockets of your leather jacket. "I will definitely catch you." The words are a promise, a vow you've made to the city and to yourself. You know that taking down a woman like Giselle won't be easy, but you're not about to let that stop you.

You've been to the Supernova before, but always as a patron, your eyes scanning the shadows for any hint of the depravity that's whispered about in the streets. Each time you've walked away empty-handed, the glitz and glamour of the club blinding you to the darkness you're sure lurks beneath the surface. But tonight is different. Tonight, you're going in deep, armed with nothing but your wits and a fresh set of eyes.

You've paid one of the club's workers, a bouncer named Jinho, to call in sick. His uniform now fits you snugly, the fabric stretching over your broad shoulders. The fake ID is a decent forgery, your features altered just enough to be unrecognizable to any of Giselle's inner circle. You tuck your hair under a cap and don a pair of tinted glasses, completing the transformation.

You slip through the doors, the cacophony of laughter and music washing over you like a wave. The club is a kaleidoscope of colors, the strobe lights casting a hypnotic glow over the writhing bodies on the dance floor. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and expensive perfume, a heady cocktail that fills your nostrils as you navigate the labyrinth of velvet-covered walls.

Your eyes scan the room, searching for the telltale sign of the VIP area, the heart of Giselle's operations. You've studied the layout, committed the blueprints to memory, but the pulse of the club is a living, breathing creature that defies the cold, static lines of a building plan. You move with purpose, your gaze sweeping over the bartenders, the dancers, the patrons lost in their own worlds, looking for that one thread that will lead you to the secret room.

Suddenly, a shadow looms over you. You look up to see one of the bodyguards from outside, his tattoos snaking down his arms like a twisted vine of suspicion. "What's the matter?" he asks, his voice a gruff rumble. "You looked weird earlier."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum at a rock concert. The lie comes out smooth as silk. "I've got something important to tell the boss," you say, trying to keep your cool. "Where is she?”

The bodyguard's gaze sharpens, his eyes narrowing like a cat eyeing a mouse. But before he can reply, you act. "You must be the new kid," he say with a smirk, slapping you playfully on the shoulder. "Our boss is in the VIP room. Come with me, I'll show you around."

Your heart jumps, but you play it cool. "Thanks, man," you reply, flashing a grin that you hope doesn't look forced. The ruse is risky, but it's your best shot at getting close to Giselle without raising alarms. You follow him through the undulating sea of bodies, the music a relentless pulse in your ears.

As you pass the two other bodyguards, they give each other a quick nod. Your gut clenches, a warning bell sounding in your head. But it's too late. Before you can react, their burly arms are around you, crushing the air from your lungs. "What the hell is this?" you manage to gasp out.

The tattooed man's smile widens, revealing a gold tooth. "We never call her 'boss', detective," he says, his voice low and menacing. "It's 'Ojo-sama'."

In a flash, the two bodyguards move, their arms wrapping around you like a vice. Your eyes widen in surprise as the air is abruptly squeezed from your lungs. Panic sets in as you realize the gravity of the situation - you've been made. You struggle against their grip, but it's like trying to break free from steel bars. The music, the lights, the smells, everything around you swirls into a chaotic blur as your vision starts to tunnel.

You're dragged through the club, the throb of bass seeming to pulse in sync with your racing heart. The crowd parts for you, their faces a sea of indifference as you're escorted through the back, into an area that seems to exist beyond the realm of the law. The VIP lounge is a stark contrast to the garish colors of the dance floor, all velvet and chrome, a den of opulence and depravity. And there she is, Giselle, lounging on a throne-like chair, her legs crossed and a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Welcome, detective," she purrs, her voice a seductive whisper that seems to resonate in the very air around you. "I've been expecting you."

Your hands are bound behind your back, the rough ropes digging into your wrists as you're forced into a chair. You try to fight, to spit out a curse, but all that comes out is a choked grunt. "Let me go, you bitch," you growl, your voice strained with effort.

Giselle's smile widens, a crimson siren in the shadows of the VIP lounge. She raises a perfectly manicured hand, her fingers adorned with diamond-studded rings that glint menacingly in the dim light. The bodyguards, like well-trained dogs, release you but stand at attention, their fists clenched and eyes locked on you. With a flick of her wrist, she indicates that they should leave the room. They don't argue, they don't even look surprised. They just do as they're told, their booted feet echoing down the hallway.

"Only you are hard to conquer," she purrs, her voice a siren's song that seems to stroke your ego even as it sends a shiver down your spine. Her eyes are pools of emerald, a stark contrast to the fiery hair that frames her face like a halo of temptation. She looks at you with a mix of amusement and curiosity, as if you're some exotic creature that's wandered into her lair.

Giselle's hips sway in a mesmerizing rhythm as she approaches, the sound of her stilettos on the hardwood floor a metronome of seduction. You can feel the heat of her, the electricity of her presence, as if it's a living thing that's wrapping itself around you, tightening its grip. "What really do you want Detective Kim?" she asks, her voice a whisper that seems to resonate in the very marrow of your bones. "Wealth? Power?"

Her hand trails down her torso, lingering over the curve of her breast, her thumb brushing the swell of her cleavage, which is barely contained by the leopard-print crop top that clings to her body. "Or perhaps, a woman?" she purrs, her eyes locking onto yours. The way she says 'a woman' makes it sound like a prize, a treasure beyond all others. You can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, your heart hammering in your chest. It's a question that's both a challenge and an offer, and for a moment, you're not entirely sure you know the answer.

But then you remember why you're here, the vow you made to the city and to yourself. You take a deep breath and push the temptation aside. "I don't need any of that," you reply in a firm voice that you hope doesn't betray the turmoil raging inside you. "I'm satisfied with my salary as a civil servant. I've got a wife and kids to support.”

Giselle's laugh is like a silk scarf caressing your skin, a sound that seems to resonate with a hint of mockery. She claps her hands together dramatically, her red nails clicking against each other. "Bravo, detective," she says, her smile a wicked curve that makes your stomach twist. "Your little family will be so proud to hear what their family head has to say." Her words cut through the haze of desire like a knife, and suddenly, you're back on track.

With a grace that seems almost predatory, she sits on your lap, straddling you. Her leather skirt rides up, revealing the tops of her thighs, and you can feel the heat from her core. Her hands come up, stroking your cheek, her thumb tracing the line of your jaw with a gentle pressure that could easily turn to steel. "Don't be too naïve, detective," she whispers, her breath hot against your ear. "What does justice give you after you've made all the sacrifices?”

You reply harshly, "My justice is very naïve but look later, bitch, me and my people who are under the auspices of justice will arrest you." The words come out like a growl, a declaration of war in the quiet intimacy of the VIP lounge.

Her laughter fades, and her expression shifts to something more serious, a hint of steel behind the seductive facade. "Justice," she muses, her voice as smooth as the whiskey in the crystal glass in her hand. "Such a quaint concept. But tell me, detective, have you ever seen it truly served?" She takes a sip, the amber liquid glinting in the low light, and you can almost taste the challenge in her words.

Giselle sets the glass down on the table with a deliberate click. The sound echoes in the tense silence. "Let me show you the kind of justice that exists in the real world," she says, her voice dropping to a purr.

With a flick of her wrist, she presses a button on a sleek, black remote control. The wall behind her shifts, revealing a translucent mirror that seems to hover in the air like a ghostly apparition. Your eyes widen in shock as the reflection materializes, and you see a scene that feels like a sucker punch to the gut.

In the center of the reflection, your boss, Commissar Park, is entwined with a young woman who's clearly not his wife. Her body is slick with sweat, her eyes vacant as she moans with each of his thrusts. He's oblivious to the world outside, lost in the throes of his illicit pleasure. The sight is like a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the corruption that festers in the heart of the city you're sworn to protect.

Giselle's voice is a seductive whisper in your ear. "Winter's tight pussy can temporarily silence the justice you're so proud of, can't it?" Her breath is hot, sending shivers down your spine as her words echo in your head. The implication is clear: your own superiors are compromised, and the scales of justice are as crooked as the streets you patrol.

You stare at the mirrored reflection, the image of your boss, Commissar Park, and the young girl named Winter seared into your retinas. The scene unfolds like a grimy film noir, each grunt and slap a testament to the depravity that fuels the city's elite. Winter's eyes are vacant, a stark contrast to her usual vibrant gaze, a doll being used for the commissar's pleasure. His fat body looms over her, his sweat-soaked flesh slapping against hers in a rhythm that's anything but passionate.

"What the fuck is this?" you snarl, your voice tight with rage. The room seems to close in around you, the walls of the VIP lounge suffocatingly intimate as you watch the man you've trusted, the man you've worked alongside, betray everything you stand for.

Giselle's laugh is like a whip crack, sharp and biting. She leans in, her breath hot against your neck. "This, detective, is reality. Your precious justice is a game played by those who can afford the price of admission." She strokes your jawline, her touch a taunt. "And the cost is paid in flesh and silence."

When Giselle presses the button again, the scene in the mirror changes, the reflection shimmering like a mirage before settling on a new tableau. This time, it's the sound of sighs and grunts that fills the air, the unmistakable noises of a man and woman in the throes of passion. You recognize the gruff voice immediately - it's Commissar Park, your superior, your mentor, your boss. "You really like my cock in your tight pussy, don't you slut?" he says, the words a grating echo in the otherwise silent room.

The sight of him with Winter is a punch to the gut. Her moans are faint, a counterpoint to his rough demands, "Yes DADDY," she says, her voice a siren's song of submission, "it drives me crazy." The room seems to spin around you, the walls closing in as the reality of the situation sinks in. Your fists clench, the ropes around your wrists biting into your skin, a stark reminder of your own powerlessness.

With a flick of her wrist, she presses the remote again, and the wall behind her shifts. Another transparent glass panel is revealed, this time showing the head prosecutor, a man whose reputation was as unblemished as the gleaming scales of justice. Yet, here he is, in the throes of passion with a young girl who looks to be of ethnic Chinese descent. Her eyes are closed, her body a canvas of pleasure and submission as he grunts and paws at her.

The prosecutor's words are a guttural moan. "Your mouth is so good, Ningning," he says, his voice strained with lust as he fucks her face. The sight is a knife in the heart of your beliefs, a stark reminder that the corruption you're fighting against has tentacles that stretch far beyond the walls of the Supernova. Ningning's eyes water, and you can see the gag reflex working in her throat, but she takes it, her cheeks hollowing out with each thrust.

Giselle's hand moves to your bound wrists, her touch light as a feather. "Look around you, detective," she murmurs, her breath tickling your ear. "This is the real world. A place where power isn't about what you stand for, but what you can take." She leans closer, her breasts brushing against your chest, her voice a siren's call. "And I can give it all to you. You can fuck Ningning and Winter every night if you want. They're just two of my many treasures.”

Her words are a tempting serenade, a sweet poison that coils around your mind. You can feel the walls of your resolve starting to crack, the image of your wife and kids fading like a photograph left in the sun. But then, you remember the promise you made to them, the vow to uphold the law no matter the cost. You close your eyes and swallow hard, willing yourself to stay strong.

"Giselle," you murmur, your voice thick with a mix of desire and desperation. "I have a wife. A beautiful, loving wife who believes in me, who trusts me to come home to her every night." You can feel your heart hammering in your chest, the beat a war drum against the seductive rhythm of the club music. "Please, let me go.”

Her eyes glint with something that might be amusement or something more sinister. She leans in closer, her breasts pressing against you, the scent of her perfume intoxicating. "Ah, yes," she says, her voice a velvet caress. "Your lovely wife's name is Karina, the esteemed editor-in-chief of the local newspaper." Her words are a dagger, twisting in the wound she knows she's just opened.

"Don't you dare touch her," you snarl, the threat in your voice as potent as a cocked gun. "I'll bring the whole fucking city down on your head if you lay a finger on her." Giselle's smile widens, her teeth gleaming white in the dim light of the VIP lounge.

"No bad news about my club?" she purrs, her eyes glinting with something that's almost mischievous. "Think about it, detective. Why do you think that is?" You blink, the question hitting you like a surprise left hook. It's true, amidst the sea of vice that washed through the streets, the Supernova remained a shimmering jewel, unblemished by the grit of scandal or the stain of negative publicity.

You frown, trying to piece together the puzzle. "What do you mean?" you ask, genuinely confused. Giselle's smile deepens, her fingers playing idly with the edge of her fur coat.

"Karina is not the good girl you think she is," Giselle repeats, her voice a sultry purr. With a flick of her wrist, another wall section rises, revealing a transparent glass panel. What you see on the other side hits you like a truck. There, laid out like a depraved tableau, is your wife, Karina, her naked body writhing in ecstasy.

Three muscular black men, their skin glistening with sweat, surround her. The one in the middle is pounding into her pussy, his hips moving in a rhythm that's as brutal as it is mesmerizing. You can see the look of pure lust in Karina's eyes, her body arching off the velvet-covered bed. The second man, his biceps bulging with each thrust, is buried in her ass, her cheeks spread wide as he fills her to the brim. And the third, his bald head gleaming, holds her head in his hands, his cock disappearing down her throat as she gags and slobs over him.

"Your dear wife, Karina," she says, her voice a velvet purr that seems to wrap around you like a snake. "You think she's as pure as the driven snow, don't you?" She takes a sip from her whiskey, the ice clinking against the glass. "Well, let me tell you a little secret, detective."

Her eyes sparkle with a wicked glint as she leans closer, her breasts pressing into your chest. "You see, Karina has a taste for the finer things in life. And she's not above a little... extortion to get them." Your blood runs cold as she speaks, the reality of her words hitting you like a sledgehammer. "Your sweet wife has been playing me for a commission, all the while threatening to expose my club if I didn't play along.”

The room spins around you as Giselle's words sink in. "And the sex," she says, her voice a silken whisper, "that was just an added... service. A way to keep her... satisfied." She giggles, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine.

You try to shake your head, to deny the reality that's unfolding before your eyes. "No," you murmur, the word barely a breath. "Lie, you lie." But deep down, you know it's true. The look in Karina's eyes, the way she's begging for more, it's all too real.

Giselle's grip on your chin tightens, forcing you to look at the scene unfolding behind the glass. "You see, detective," she says, her voice a sultry purr that seems to fill every corner of the room. "Even the purest hearts have their dark desires. And when they're denied, they seek them out elsewhere."

Your eyes are glued to the scene, watching in horror as your wife, the woman you've sworn to protect and cherish, takes all three men at once. Her cries of pleasure are a symphony of betrayal that echoes through your soul. Giselle's words feel like a hot knife slicing through your heart. "She said you couldn't satisfy her," Giselle whispers, her breath a hot caress against your cheek. "That's why she comes to me.”

Her hand moves to the bulge in your crotch, stroking it gently through your pants. "But I think she's wrong," she purrs, her voice a siren's call that sends a shiver down your spine. "I think you have more to offer than you realize." Before you can react, she's unzipped your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear. Your cock springs free, hard and pulsing with anger and lust.

Her touch is cool, a stark contrast to the heat of your arousal. She takes you in her hand, her grip firm yet gentle, and you can't help but gasp at the sensation. You're torn between the fury that's consuming you and the all-consuming need that's threatening to overwhelm you. Giselle leans in, her breath a warm whisper against your skin as she licks the head of your cock, smearing your shaft with her saliva.

Her tongue is a slick, sinful dance, teasing and taunting you as she tastes you. The anger and betrayal swirl inside you, a toxic cocktail that only seems to fuel your arousal. You want to pull away, to fight, but the feel of her mouth is too much, a siren's call that you can't resist. She takes you in, her eyes never leaving yours, watching as you struggle with your emotions. You can feel your body responding, your cock thickening, betraying your every thought.

Above the cacophony of the club, the wet sounds of her mouth and your own ragged breathing fill your ears. Each stroke of her tongue sends a bolt of lightning straight to your core, making your muscles clench. "You don't have to hide it, detective," she says, her voice a purr that seems to vibrate through you. "I know you want this." And it's true, even as you're disgusted by what you're seeing, even as you're torn apart by the revelation about Karina, you want her, this crimson-haired seductress who holds your fate in her hand.

Giselle's eyes gleam with triumph as she takes your cock deeper, her throat working around you. You can feel her power, the way she controls you, and it's intoxicating. You groan, the sound torn from your chest like a confession. "Fuck," you murmur, the word a mix of anger and arousal. "Fuck you, Giselle, you're such a nasty woman."

you in again, her mouth moving faster, her head bobbing up and down with a ferocity that matches the beat of the music outside. You can feel your resolve slipping away, the tension in your body building with each wet, hungry suck. The sound of her mouth is a symphony of desire, a siren's call that drowns out the voice of your conscience.

“I consider it a compliment," she murmurs, her voice muffled by your cock, before slamming her head back down on you, taking you deep into the throat. You can't help but let out a grunt of pleasure, the sight of her red hair bobbing up and down making your stomach clench. The walls of the VIP lounge seem to pulse with the rhythm of her movements, the lights dimming and brightening with each stroke.

Her eyes water as she looks up at you, her makeup smudged from her earlier laughter, her mascara running like black tears. Yet, she doesn't stop, her mouth moving with a ferocity that's as much about control as it is about pleasure. You can feel her throat contract around you, a vice that's both terrifying and exhilarating. Her hand is a blur, moving up and down your shaft, her nails digging into your skin just hard enough to make you gasp.

The room around you fades away, until it's just the two of you, locked in a dance as old as time. The smell of her perfume, the sweet scent of her lip gloss, and the musky scent of your arousal fill the space, creating a heady cocktail that makes you feel both drunk and clear-headed. The sticky warmth of her mouth is a prison you don't want to escape, each suck and swirl a declaration of war on your self-control.

Her full, red lips wrap around your cock like a silk scarf, her teeth grazing just enough to send a thrill of pain that mingles with the overwhelming pleasure. Her tongue is a sultry dance, swirling around your shaft in a rhythm that makes your hips jerk involuntarily. The sensation is like nothing you've ever felt, a symphony of sensations that's playing your body like a fine instrument.

Her eyes never leave yours as she continues, her hand still moving in a blur. You're lost in the storm of emotions, the rage and betrayal fighting a losing battle against the dark allure of her touch. You're torn between the need to push her away and the urge to push her down, to take everything she's offering and more.

And then it happens. The pressure builds, your cock swells, and without warning, you're there. You feel the muscle at the base of your shaft tighten, and before you can even process it, you're coming. Hot, thick ropes of cum fill her mouth, and she swallows them down, her eyes never leaving yours. You moan, the sound raw and desperate, and she smiles around you, her cheeks hollowed out as she takes everything you have to give.

As the last shudder passes through you, Giselle pulls away, her lips glistening with your seed. She wipes the corner of her mouth with a delicate finger, then brings it to her lips, sucking it clean with a slow, deliberate motion. "Mmm," she says, her voice a smoky purr. "You taste very good, detective." Her eyes narrow, the emerald green of a cat that's caught its prey. "I wonder why Karina is looking for someone else's sperm."

Her hand, the one that's been stroking you, reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small, crimson pill. She holds it out to you, her fingers long and elegant, like a serpent offering a forbidden apple. "If you want justice," she whispers, "join me, and I will make the justice you desire come true." The red pill seems to pulse in her palm, a tiny heart of temptation.

You stare at it, the weight of the world on your shoulders. The anger, the betrayal, the hunger for vengeance all coalesce into a single, burning question. "What is it?" you ask, your voice hoarse.

Giselle's smile is a knowing smirk. "Don't you know what this is, detective?" she asks, her voice a seductive purr. She tilts her head to the side, watching you with those emerald eyes that seem to see right through you. "Or perhaps, you're just scared of what it could be.”

You stare at the pill, your mind racing. What is this? A drug? A sedative? A key to unlocking some dark, twisted reality? The anger and betrayal that had been simmering within you boil over, and in a moment of raw, primal instinct, you snatch the pill from her hand and swallow it without a second thought.

The room seems to tilt and swirl around you as the euphoria hits, a rush of pure, unadulterated bliss that feels like flying. The weight of your clothes, the very air around you, it all feels as light as a feather. Your body tingles with an energy that's as electrifying as it is terrifying. You can't stop smiling, your mouth stretching into a grin that feels like it might split your face in two.

Giselle stands before you, her smile as sweet as poisoned honey. "Welcome to my world, detective," she says, her voice a siren's song that seems to echo in your very soul. "Where pleasure and pain are as intertwined as the very fabric of existence." She takes your hand, her grip firm yet gentle, and leads you to a plush velvet couch. The pill you swallowed is already working its dark magic, making you feel like you're floating on a cloud of desire.

You follow her, your movements fluid and uninhibited. The music of the club seems to pulse in your veins, the bass a heartbeat that's driving you towards a fate you're not quite sure you're ready for. Giselle sits, her legs spread wide, her eyes never leaving yours. You can't help but stare at her, the hunger inside you growing with every passing second.

With a wild growl, you pounce, your hands tearing at her tiger print crop top. The fabric gives way like paper, revealing her busty chest, her melons spilling out like two ripe fruits. Her nipples are hard, the color of a fresh rose, begging for your touch. The sight of her bare skin, her vulnerability, it's like throwing gasoline on the fire that's consuming you. You need her, you crave her, and you won't be denied.

Your hands squeeze her breasts, kneading them like a baker working dough, and she moans, the sound sending shockwaves of lust through your body. You can feel the heat of her desire, her heart beating faster with every pinch and twist. Her skin is like velvet under your calloused palms, and the softness of her tits is a stark contrast to the hardness of your grip.

Her laugh is a sweet symphony of pleasure, her eyes closing in ecstasy as she leans into your touch. "Mmmm," she murmurs, her voice thick with need. "Rough, but I like it, detective. Do whatever you want to me." The challenge in her words is like a drug, a siren's call that you can't resist. You bend down, your mouth claiming one of her nipples, biting down gently as you suck. Her moan is like a spark in the dark, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both.

Your hands are a whirlwind of sensation, squeezing and slapping her breasts with a fervor that's as much about anger as it is about desire. The sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room, a rhythmic counterpoint to the club's pulsing bass. Yet, with each rough caress, she only arches her back, her eyes glazed with a hunger that matches your own. It's as if the pain you inflict on her is a currency she craves, a currency that fuels her pleasure.

Her nipples are like two pebbles under your teeth, and as you bite down, you feel the soft give of her skin. She gasps, her back bowing off the couch, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you closer. You can feel the pulse of her heart through her chest, beating in time with the music, with your own. Her breath is hot and ragged, a testament to the power you hold over her.

The battle of wills continues, your hands a maelstrom of need and anger, squeezing and slapping her breasts as if trying to wring out her secrets. Each time your palm connects with her soft flesh, she moans, her hips bucking against you. The room around you fades into a haze of red, the only thing that matters is the feel of her body beneath your touch.

With a snarl, you rip off the remains of your shirt, buttons flying in every direction. The fabric clings to your damp skin, and you can feel the heat of your desire radiating off of you like a furnace. Your cock is a living thing, pulsing and demanding attention, a weapon of both pleasure and pain. You pull away from her breasts, her nipples red and swollen from your attentions, and grab her chin, forcing her to look at you.

Her eyes are a storm of emotions, a whirlpool of need and challenge, and you know she wants this just as much as you do. With a grunt, you push her back onto the couch, your body following hers. Your cock, hard and demanding, slides between her breasts, the soft mounds of flesh pressing against your shaft like a vice.

You can feel the heat of her skin, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she breathes, her heart beating in sync with the throb of your cock. Her eyes never leave yours, the emerald fire burning brighter with each stroke. You start to fuck her tits, the head of your cock peeking out from between the valley of her cleavage, slapping against her chin.

"Open your mouth, slut" you snarl, your voice a harsh command that seems to echo in the room. Giselle's smile widens, a challenge that sets your blood on fire. She obeys, her lips parting like a crimson curtain, and you take the opportunity without mercy. Each time your cock slides out of the warm embrace of her breasts, it hits her mouth, painting her lips with your precum.

Her tongue flicks out, licking the tip with a hunger that matches your own. The feel of her soft tits surrounding your shaft, the gentle abrasion of her teeth as she takes you in, it's a sensation that's driving you wild. You can feel your control slipping, the need to claim her, to possess her completely, overwhelming you. With each thrust, you press her breasts together harder, the sound of her muffled moans only spurring you on.

Your cock glides between her tits, the sensation of her velvety skin against yours sending bolts of lightning through your body. The slickness of her spit and your precum make the journey a smooth one, the friction building to a crescendo that you know you won't be able to resist for much longer. Her mouth is a warm, wet embrace, the suction pulling at you like a vacuum. Each time you push into her mouth, you feel her throat convulse around the head, the sensation making you see stars.

The softness of Giselle's breasts is your undoing. They're like pillows made of pure ecstasy, and your body responds with a ferocity that surprises even you. You tighten your grip, pushing her tits together more forcefully, creating a tighter channel for you to fuck. Her moans of pleasure become muffled cries, and you revel in the power of your dominance. The red pill's effects are in full swing, amplifying every sensation until it's all you can do to hold onto reality.

Her eyes are glossy with desire as she watches you, the head of your cock sliding back and forth over her plump, painted lips. You feel the tension in your balls tighten, a sign that you're about to climax again. You've never felt this way before, like a wild animal claiming its territory, and it's both terrifying and exhilarating. With a roar that's part anger, part triumph, you let go, your cum spurting onto her face and chest, a declaration of your victory over her seduction.

The warm, sticky liquid splashes onto her, and she laughs, a sound that's both thrilling and unsettling. You've never heard a woman so genuinely happy to be bathed in cum before, but there's something about the way she revels in it that makes your cock throb even more. Her smile is wide, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she brings her hand up to her face, scooping up the sticky mess and smearing it over her cheek.

"Wow," she says, her voice a sultry drawl that makes your skin crawl with lust. "I didn't expect you to have so much load left." She brings her hand down to her chest, letting the cum dribble down her neck, pooling in the valley between her breasts. You can't help but stare as it runs over her skin like a river of sin, making you want to dive in and get lost in her sweet, sticky embrace.

But there's something in her eyes, a glint of something that makes you realize you've underestimated her. "It's because of my new drug, detective," she says, her tone mocking and playful. "It keeps you hard, even after you've come. It's quite the little miracle worker."

You lie there, panting, your mind racing. This isn't what you signed up for. You're not a monster, you're a man of the law, a protector. But here you are, your cock still standing tall despite the release you've just had. "What have you done to me?" you ask, your voice strained.

Giselle chuckles, a sound that sends a chill down your spine. She wipes the last remnants of your cum from her chin with a delicate finger, then stands up, her movements as graceful as a cat's. "Oh, detective," she says, her voice dripping with condescension. "You're still so naive." She walks away from you, the sway of her hips mesmerizing even in your current state.

"Where are you going?" you manage to ask, your voice a hoarse whisper. She stops, looking over her shoulder with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I've had enough fun with you," she says, her tone a dismissive purr that makes your blood boil.

"Please, don't leave me like this," you find yourself begging, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. The room spins around you, the red haze of desire thickening like a fog. Giselle turns back to you, her smile morphing into something wicked. She saunters back over, her hips swaying with the promise of more to come.

"Call me, Mommy," she says, her voice a seductive purr that seems to wrap around your very soul. "Beg sincerely, Detective, and maybe I'll consider staying." Her words are a knife in the heart of your pride, but you're too far gone to care. The need to be filled by her, to be used by her, is all that matters now.

You swallow hard, the taste of your own cum still coating your mouth. "P-please," you stutter, the word a desperate whine. "Mommy, don't leave me like this." The words feel foreign on your tongue, a confession of your newfound subservience. Giselle's smile widens, a predator's grin that tells you she's enjoying every second of your degradation.

With a dramatic flair, she sashays back over to the couch, her hips swinging with a grace that makes you want to drop to your knees and worship her. She sits, crossing one leg over the other, her stiletto heel tapping a taunting rhythm against the floor. "Come here, puppy," she says, her voice a sweet yet commanding purr.

You don't question the sudden urge that takes over your body. You drop to all fours, your knees hitting the plush carpet with a soft thump. The room seems to pulse around you as the red pill's effects deepen, making your mind a playground for the darkest desires. You crawl towards her, your eyes locked onto the crimson pout of her lips, the swell of her breasts, and the seductive arch of her back.

As you approach, Giselle spreads her thighs, giving you a glimpse of the wet spot on her panties beneath the leather short skirt. The sight of her arousal sends another jolt of lust through you, making your cock throb with renewed need. She points to the wet fabric, a smug smile playing on her lips. "Stick your tongue out like a puppy," she says, her voice a sweet command that you can't refuse.

With a whine that's part desire, part despair, you lean in, your tongue eager to please her. The scent of her arousal fills your nostrils, a heady bouquet that makes you dizzy with need. You can feel the warmth radiating from her, the slickness of her desire calling to you like a siren's song. With a gentle tug of your teeth, you pull her panties aside, revealing the pink, glistening folds of her sex.

Her skin is smooth, like silk, and you can't help but let out a groan of appreciation. Giselle's eyes never leave yours, a silent challenge that makes your stomach clench. You know what she wants, what you need to do. Without hesitation, you dive in, your tongue lapping at her like a starving man at a banquet. She tastes like salt and sweetness, a flavor that's intoxicating and addictive.

Her legs tighten around your head, her heels digging into your back as you worship her pussy. She's so wet, so ready for you, and it's all because of the power you now hold over her. You savor the moment, letting your tongue explore every inch of her. You lick her clit, the little nub standing proud and begging for attention. Her hips jerk, a silent plea for more. You give it to her, flicking and sucking, savoring the way she squirms beneath your touch.

"That's it, puppy," Giselle murmurs, her voice a sweet symphony of need. "You make Mommy feel good." Her fingers are like a vice in your hair, guiding your movements, pushing you deeper into the warm, wet cavern of her desire. You've never felt so alive, so in tune with another person's pleasure. Your tongue delves into her, tasting her, claiming her as your own. The slickness of her arousal coats your mouth, a tangy flavor that's driving you wild.

Her breath hitches, her grip tightening, and you know you're on the right track. You flick your tongue over her clit, the tiny pearl that's the center of her universe. She gasps, her hips bucking against you. The power you have over her is a drug, more potent than anything you've ever encountered on the streets. You're lost in the moment, your own needs forgotten as you focus on bringing her to the brink.

"Are you happy to taste Mommy's pussy, puppy?" Giselle asks, her voice muffled by the fabric of her short skirt. It's a question that seems to resonate through the air, a declaration of your newfound role. And from somewhere deep within, you feel the truth of it. "Yes," you murmur, the words a benediction of submission. "Yes, Mommy, I feel grateful to be able to taste Mommy's wet and delicious pussy.”

Her response is a soft laugh, the sound of it making your cock twitch with anticipation. "Good boy," she says, her voice a sweet caress that sends shivers down your spine. "Now, I want you to stroke your own dick while you lick me." The command is clear, and you obey without hesitation. Your hand wraps around your shaft, the skin hot and sensitive from her earlier attentions.

As you pump yourself, you keep your tongue busy on her clit, the little bundle of nerves that seems to be the source of all her pleasure. Her legs tighten around your head, and you know you're doing something right. The sensation of your own hand on your cock is a strange mix of pleasure and pain, the two emotions blending into a heady cocktail that makes your vision swim.

"Fuck, yes," she moans, her hips grinding against your face. "Just like that. Make Mommy cum." The words are a chant, a spell that's woven into the very fabric of the air. You can feel the tension building in her body, the tightening of her muscles, the way her pussy clenches around your tongue. It's like you're connected by an invisible thread, her pleasure yours to control.

You stroke yourself harder, your hand a blur of motion. The pill's effects have turned you into a machine of desire, a creature of the night that exists solely to serve Giselle's whims. "Don't cum yet, puppy," she warns, her voice a low, sultry growl. "Mommy isn't finished with you." You nod, the movement muffled against her flesh. You're so close, your balls tightening, the pressure building until it feels like your cock might explode.

But you hold back, focusing on the task at hand. You move your tongue as fast as you can, the tip flicking against her clit like a metronome set to a furious tempo. Giselle's breath comes in ragged gasps, her body quivering with anticipation. You can feel her getting closer, her muscles tightening around your tongue as if to keep you in place. And then, with a scream that echoes through the VIP lounge, she's there.

"I'm cumming," she cries out, her voice a symphony of pleasure that sends a jolt through your body. Her pussy clamps down on your tongue, the muscles contracting in waves. The walls of her sex spasm around you, a wet, velvety embrace that makes you groan. And as she hits the peak of her climax, she does indeed spray her nectar into your mouth. It's a flood of sweetness that you greedily swallow, the taste of her orgasm a potent elixir that fuels your own desire.

When the storm of her pleasure passes, Giselle's legs loosen around your head. She's panting, her eyes glazed with a mix of satisfaction and something else—something darker, more primal. She looks at you, her smile wicked. "Good puppy," she whispers, her voice a lover's caress. "Now, you can cum.”

You don't need any more encouragement than that. With a snarl, you pull away from her pussy, your tongue glistening with her juices. Your cock is a steel rod in your hand, pulsing with the need to release. You pump it once, twice, three times, and with a roar that's part relief, part agony, you cum. The first spurt hits the carpet with a wet thump, followed by a series of others, painting a Jackson Pollock-like pattern on the once pristine white fabric.

Giselle watches you with a mix of amusement and lust. She stands there, her breasts heaving, the smear of your cum on her chest a testament to your earlier passion. Her eyes never leave your cock, as if she's memorizing every inch of it. "Mmm," she says, her voice a warm purr. "Such a good boy."

With a grace that belies the intensity of your encounter, she straddles you, her crotch pressing against your stomach. You can feel the heat of her, the slickness of her sex as it leaves a wet trail on your skin. "Look at me, puppy, beacuse your good puppy, Mommy would reward you" she commands, and you find your gaze drawn to hers, those emerald eyes that seem to see straight through you.

Her hand wraps around your still-throbbing cock, guiding it to the slick entrance of her pussy. With a look that's both hungry and possessive, she sinks down onto you, her velvety walls parting to accommodate your length. You groan as she takes you in, inch by inch, her tightness a sweet agony that makes your toes curl. "Urggh," she growls, the sound a mix of pleasure and challenge. "Your dick is so big.”

The pressure is intense, a vice-like grip that feels like heaven and hell all rolled into one. You can't believe the words that are coming out of your mouth, but you say them anyway. "Mommy, your pussy is so tight," you murmur, the words a declaration of your submission to the pleasure she's giving you. She smiles, a knowing smile that says she's heard it all before, but she doesn't seem to mind the praise.

With a deliberate slowness that's torturous, Giselle starts to move her hips, rolling them in a way that makes you feel every inch of her. The friction is exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that's setting your nerves on fire. You find yourself chanting her name, your voice a ragged whisper that seems to fill the air. "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy," you repeat, the word a mantra that's pushing you closer to the edge.

The feeling of her tight pussy squeezing your cock is like nothing you've ever experienced before. Each movement is a dance of agony and ecstasy, a tease that's driving you wild. You can feel her muscles rippling around you, contracting in a way that's both seductive and demanding. You're lost in the sensation, your mind a haze of red that matches the glow of the room.

Giselle's eyes bore into yours, a challenge that fuels your lust. You wrap your arms around her waist, your hands gripping her firmly as you start to thrust up into her, matching the rhythm she sets. Your bodies move in perfect sync, the slap of flesh on flesh a symphony of desire that's echoing through the VIP lounge. "Mommy," you murmur, the word a chant that seems to resonate through your very soul.

Her eyes widen, the question clear in her gaze. "What's wrong, puppy?" she asks, her voice a purr that sends a shiver down your spine. You look up at her, your face a mask of ecstasy, your need stark and unfiltered. "Can I kiss your lips?" you ask, the words a plea that's torn from the very core of your being.

You obey, parting your lips without hesitation. The anticipation is a living thing, coiling in your stomach as you wait for her to make her move. And then, with a suddenness that takes your breath away, she spits in your mouth. The warm, salty liquid fills your mouth, and you feel the humiliation of it, the degradation. But it's also a strange kind of power, a bond that you didn't know you craved.

Her eyes bore into yours, a wildfire of desire and dominance. You can see the challenge in them, the promise of more if you submit completely. And so you do. You let her saliva fill your mouth, not swallowing, not moving, just holding it there as she watches with a wicked smile. The taste of her mouth, the intimacy of it, is like nothing you've ever experienced. It's raw, it's animalistic, and it makes your cock throb with the need to be inside her.

With a sudden, almost violent movement, Giselle leans down and crushes her mouth against yours. Her tongue invades your mouth, swirling and twisting, mixing your saliva with hers in a dance of power. You can feel her teeth scrape against your own, the sensation making your skin prickle with excitement. Her hand reaches up to cup the back of your head, her nails digging in just enough to remind you who's in control.

Your mouths are a battlefield, tongues fighting for dominance, saliva mingling in a sticky embrace. You're surprised by how much you're enjoying this, the way she's claiming you with every thrust of her tongue. You kiss her back with a passion that's equal parts anger and need, your own tongue pushing back, trying to conquer her mouth. The taste of her is intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and danger that makes your heart race.

As your kiss deepens, so does her grind on your cock. You can feel the tip of it brushing against her G-spot with each downward motion, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. You're so close, your balls tightening with the promise of release. But you hold back, your mind racing with thoughts of what she'll do next, what new depth of depravity she'll lead you to.

You break the kiss, panting, and look up at her. "Mommy," you murmur, your voice thick with need. "I'm almost there."

Giselle's smile is cold, her eyes gleaming with something that's part excitement, part cruelty. "Don't you fucking dare," she says, her voice a whip crack that sends a shiver down your spine. "You'll cum when I say you can, and not a second before.”

Her grip on your hips tightens, her nails digging in deep enough to leave marks. You're so close, your cock begging for release, but she won't give it to you. The frustration is a living, breathing entity, coiled in your stomach like a snake. You slam into her harder, your hips moving in a frenzied rhythm that's driven by desperation. Her walls are tight, so tight, gripping you like a glove made of pure pleasure.

Her eyes never leave yours, that smug look of victory making your blood boil. You're a detective, a man of the law, not a fuck toy for some criminal's twisted games. But here you are, obeying her every command, your body a slave to the need she's created within you. It's a power exchange that you never knew existed, and it's both terrifying and thrilling.

You slam into her, your cock disappearing into her tight, wet pussy with a wet smack that echoes through the room. The sound is obscene, a symphony of lust that's driving you closer and closer to the edge. But that edge is a mirage, taunting you, always just out of reach. You want to come, your body is begging for it, but she won't let you.

Her hips are a blur, riding you like a wild animal in heat. She's a force of nature, a storm that you're trying to contain with your own body. You can feel the pressure building in her, the tightening of her muscles around you. You know she's close, so close that you can almost taste it.

Giselle throws her head back, her red hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of fire. Her eyes squeeze shut, and a guttural moan rips from her throat. It's a sound that's raw and primal, a declaration of her impending release. "I'm gonna cum," she pants, her voice a breathless whisper that sends a bolt of lightning through you. "Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes!”

And then it happens. Her pussy clamps down around your cock with the intensity of a vice, her walls pulsing with the force of her orgasm. The warm flood of her nectar soaks through her panties, the fabric clinging to your skin like a second skin. You feel it trickle down her inner thighs, a sweet, sticky mess that's making you want to lick her clean.

With a final, desperate thrust, Giselle falls on top of you, her body going limp. She's panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to catch her breath. The weight of her is a delicious pressure, a reminder of what you've just shared. You're still hard, the need to cum like a live wire in your veins, but the sight of her like this, spent and satisfied, is a prize in itself.

Her eyes open, a lazy smile spreading across her lips. "Good Puppy," she murmurs, the words a gentle caress that sends a shiver down your spine. She lifts her hips, and you feel your cock slip out of her with a wet pop that makes you groan. "But now it's time for your reward, you can cum inside Mommy womb", she says, her voice a siren's call that makes you want to do whatever she says.

With a strength fueled by desire, you flip Giselle over so she's on her back, her legs spread wide. She looks up at you, her eyes filled with a hunger that's both thrilling and terrifying. You position yourself between her thighs, the head of your cock nudging against her soaking wet entrance. With a grunt of pure, animalistic need, you slam into her, feeling the warm embrace of her pussy like a homecoming.

Her moaned is one of pure bliss as you fill her up, your shaft disappearing into her depths. You can feel the resistance, the tightness that makes you want to pound into her even harder. You do, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, feeling her pussy stretch around you like a glove. Each thrust is a declaration of your dominance, a promise of the pleasure to come.

Her eyes flutter closed, her head thrown back, the cords of her neck standing out as she rides the wave of sensation. Her breasts bounce with every impact, those beautiful, round orbs that you've been dying to touch since you first laid eyes on her. Your hands can't help but find them, squeezing and mauling them as you fuck her with a ferocity that surprises even you.

Giselle's grip on your neck tightens, pulling you down to her chest. "Suck on Mommy's tits," she orders, her voice a raspy growl. You don't hesitate, your mouth closing over one of her stiff nipples, drawing it into the wet heat of your mouth. You suckle greedily, feeling the bud harden even more against your tongue.

Her eyes roll back in her head, a gasp escaping her as she arches her back, pushing her chest closer to you. You switch to the other one, giving it the same attention, feeling her pleasure rise like a tide. "Fuck me, Puppy" she moans, her hips bucking wildly as she urges you on. You oblige, your hips moving in a blur as you piston in and out of her with renewed vigor, the wet slapping sound echoing through the room.

Giselle's nails dig into your shoulders, leaving little half-moons of pain that only serve to fuel your desire. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you deeper, her ankles locking together at the base of your spine. You can feel her pussy tightening, the walls pulsing around your cock like a heartbeat. "Yes, yes," she chants, her voice rising with each thrust. "Make Mommy cum again."

Her vaginal walls clench and release, the sensation like nothing you've ever felt before. It's like she's trying to milk you, to wring every last drop of pleasure from your body. And as she says those words, something in you snaps. "Mommy, I want to cum," you murmur, the words a prayer and a confession all rolled into one.

"Let's cum together, puppy," she says, her voice a warm, seductive whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. "Bathe Mommy's womb with your seed." The thought of it, the raw, primal need to mark her as yours, is intoxicating. You can feel your orgasm building, the pressure like a dam about to burst.

With one final, powerful thrust, you slam into her, feeling her pussy spasm around you. Giselle's eyes widen, a look of pure ecstasy on her face as she squirts, the warm flood of her juices coating your cock and balls. It's a sensation that's overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that sets your body alight. And with a roar that's torn from the very depths of your soul, you come, your cock erupting with a force that seems to shake the very foundations of the earth.

You feel your semen flooding her, filling her up in a way that's both primal and possessive. It's like you're claiming her, marking her as your own with every spurt that leaves your body. Giselle's legs tighten around you, her nails digging into your skin as she rides out her own orgasm. The two of you are lost in the moment, a tapestry of desire and power that's more intense than anything you've ever felt before.

As your climax subsides, your cock finally starts to soften. You pull out of her with a wet sound that seems to echo in the suddenly quiet room. A river of your combined juices flows out of her pussy, a testament to the intensity of your encounter. The warm, sticky liquid runs down her thighs, pooling on the couch beneath her. You're both panting, your bodies slick with sweat and the evidence of your passion.

Giselle opens her eyes and looks at you, a lazy smile playing on her lips. "Welcome to my world, Puppy," she whispers, her voice a soft caress that sends a shiver down your spine. You realize with a start that you've never been in a place like this before, a realm of power and pleasure that's both terrifying and thrilling. It's a place where the lines between right and wrong are blurred, where the law you once knew no longer applies.

In the weeks that follow, you find yourself drawn deeper into Giselle's world. You start to work with her, using your job as a police detective to take down her rivals and protect her interests. Your days are a blur of surveillance and stakeouts, your nights a haze of drugs and depravity that you never knew existed.

The End.

585 notes · View notes

rubyjade · 30 days ago

Note

Karina winter yeji yuna school smut?

AFTER SCHOOL

Karina, Winter, Yeji and Yuna x Male Reader

I should’ve known something was off the moment Ms. Shin smiled at me during homeroom. That too-sweet kind of smile teachers use when they’re about to ruin your afternoon.

"You’ve been falling behind," she said, tapping her red pen against a stack of missed assignments. "So I’m assigning you to a group for academic support."

My stomach sank.

She continued, writing names at the top of my worksheet with smooth, deliberate strokes.

"Karina. Winter. Yeji. And Yuna. They'll… keep you on task."

I blinked. Thought she was joking. But when I looked over to the corner of the room, all four of them were staring at me—smiling.

Not the friendly kind of smile, either.

Fast forward to now. The final bell has rung. The classroom is empty. Door locked. Blinds down. Lights dim.

And I’m sitting at a desk, laptop in front of me, surrounded by four girls who look like they’re about to pounce.

Karina stands behind me with her arms crossed, eyes half-lidded. Winter leans against the chalkboard like she owns the place. Yeji is seated right on my desk, legs swinging lazily, skirt hiked a little too high. Yuna is in the corner by the windows, playing with the buttons of her blouse.

Winter speaks first. Her voice is soft, cool. Dangerous.

"You're gonna open that laptop," she says, slowly walking toward me. "You're gonna finish everything on that worksheet. And you're not leaving until it’s done."

I open my mouth to protest, but she smiles.

"Unless," she adds, "you need a different kind of motivation."

My throat dries. “Motivation?”

Karina leans down behind me. I feel her breath on my ear before I even hear her voice.

“We’re very… persuasive,” she whispers, fingers brushing my shoulders. “But you have to follow instructions. Exactly. No excuses.”

“Okay,” I mutter, voice shaky. “I’ll work.”

Yeji chuckles and crosses one leg over the other, leaning in until her face is inches from mine.

“You’re gonna be such a good boy, aren’t you?”

Her fingers hook around the loose knot of my school tie. She yanks it gently, pulling me forward until my nose nearly brushes the lace trim of her underwear.

“We’ll make it worth your while,” she says, lips curling into a wicked smirk.

Across the room, Yuna lets out a breathy laugh. Her blouse is halfway unbuttoned now, bare skin peeking through.

“I hope you weren’t planning on leaving early,” she says, tossing her bra onto my open notebook like it’s just another school supply. “Because we’re not stopping until we break you.”

My heart is thundering in my chest. I open the laptop with trembling hands.

Winter moves behind me, sliding her fingers up under my uniform shirt. Her nails rake gently over my ribs, sending a full-body shiver up my spine.

Karina kneels beside my chair, her hands already at my belt.

She looks up at me with calm, unreadable eyes. “Let us take care of the distractions,” she murmurs. “You just type.”

My pants slide down. My boxers go next.

I barely get to the first question on the worksheet before Yeji grabs my jaw and turns my face toward her inner thigh.

“Finish the first page,” she purrs. “You get a taste.”

Karina’s lips wrap around me under the desk. I almost fall off the chair.

She takes her time, tongue working in slow, torturous swirls, lips soft but firm. My hands twitch on the keyboard.

“Don’t stop typing,” Yuna says, hopping up to sit on the desk beside me. She grabs my wrist and pulls it under her skirt. “But keep these fingers busy too, yeah?”

She moans softly as my fingers slip into her, wet and tight and so very ready.

Winter presses her chest against my back, her breath hot on my neck. “I’m going to ride you soon,” she whispers. “But if you cum before we say so…”

She drags her tongue over the shell of my ear.

“…we’ll start everything over from the beginning.”

Karina moans around my cock, her head bobbing rhythmically. Every time I twitch, she just sucks harder, like she’s daring me to lose control. Like she wants to see me beg.

“Focus,” Yeji says, eyes flicking down to my screen. “Get to question five.”

I’m drenched in sweat. Muscles tense. My brain is short-circuiting from sensation overload. I don’t even remember what I’m typing.

Winter slides onto my lap, lifting her skirt. No panties.

She sinks down onto me in one smooth motion.

I bite down a scream.

“You like that?” she whispers, hips grinding slow and deep. “You’re doing so well… but we’re not even halfway done.”

Yuna leans forward, tongue trailing a wet stripe up my chest, giggling as she sucks one of my nipples between her lips. Her hand stays between her legs, grinding against my fingers like a girl possessed.

Yeji’s rocking against my thigh now, one hand tangled in my hair, the other squeezing her own breast beneath her uniform. She watches me like a predator, drinking in every twitch, every gasp, every helpless moan I make.

Karina’s still beside the chair, stroking me every time Winter lifts herself up. Her hand moves in sync with Winter’s rhythm. Precise. Lethal.

“You’re going to cum soon,” Karina whispers. “Aren’t you?”

I nod, frantically, stupidly. I can’t hold on.

“No,” Yeji snaps, grabbing my face. “You wait.”

Winter tightens around me, grinding harder, her eyes fluttering shut. “Almost there,” she groans. “Don’t you dare cum until the worksheet’s done.”

I’m dying.

Everything burns. Everything pulses.

Karina strokes harder. Yuna moans louder. Winter rides faster.

Then Karina leans in, lips brushing my ear.

“Last question,” she says, voice honey-sweet. “If you get it right…”

Winter kisses me, full and messy and possessive.

“…we’ll let you cum.”

I slam the final key.

Everything explodes.

Winter cries out, clenching tight. Yuna throws her head back, riding my fingers until her thighs shake. Yeji bites her lip, watching me with wild, hungry eyes as I finally let go.

I cum hard, body wracked with pleasure, every nerve on fire.

Karina strokes me through it, slow and loving, like she wants to milk every drop.

The classroom is filled with panting. Moans. The quiet hum of my laptop.

I’m ruined.

Shirt half-off. Tie gone. Skin marked with lipstick and scratches. My legs are jelly. Brain fried.

Yuna giggles, hopping off the desk and adjusting her skirt.

“You passed,” she says.

“Barely,” Yeji adds, licking her lips.

Winter pulls away from my lap and kisses my jaw, her eyes dark and gleaming. “Don’t fall behind again.”

Karina tucks my shirt back in gently, then kisses my forehead like I’m some kind of good boy she’s proud of.

“Or next time,” she murmurs, lips brushing mine, “we won’t be so gentle.”

The Next Day

I didn’t even argue this time when Ms. Shin told me I’d be finishing today’s work in the library.

She gave me the same knowing smile, the one that sent a shiver down my spine yesterday, and handed me a thick packet of revision problems.

“Quiet place. No distractions,” she said.

Right.

By now, I knew better than to think I’d be studying alone.

And sure enough, not ten minutes into flipping through the pages in one of the back rows—hidden between the history section and some dusty old encyclopedias—I heard soft footsteps. The rustle of skirts. Giggling.

I didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.

“You really thought you’d get away from us?” Yeji’s voice came first, teasing and low. “That’s cute.”

I looked up just as the four of them stepped into view, uniforms still perfect, but expressions anything but innocent.

Winter shut the book in my hands with a little snap. “Did you miss us?”

Karina knelt beside me again, just like yesterday, but this time she didn’t say anything. Just stared at me with that serene, unreadable gaze, her hand already sliding up my thigh like it belonged there.

Yuna leaned against the bookshelf behind me, stretching her arms over her head like she didn’t care who saw. "Ms. Shin says you need to improve your focus,” she said, licking her lips. “So we’re here to help.”

I glanced around the library. There were a few other students up front, maybe two tables away. The librarian’s desk was clear.

This was insane.

But the heat in my gut didn’t care.

“Guys,” I whispered. “We’ll get caught—”

“We know,” Karina murmured, fingers teasing the waistband of my pants. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Yeji leaned down and dragged her nails down my arm. “You’re already hard. Don’t pretend you’re innocent.”

Winter smirked and pulled a chair across from me, spinning it so she straddled it backward, arms resting on the top. “Here’s the deal,” she said. “You solve five problems. For each correct answer, you get a reward.”

“And if you get one wrong…” Yuna grinned wickedly, fingers playing with the edge of her skirt, “We punish you. Quietly.”

Karina’s hand slipped into my pants, and I choked on my own breath.

I tried. I tried to focus.

The first question was something about historical treaties. I scribbled an answer, hands shaking.

Karina stroked me slowly, watching my every reaction like she was cataloguing them.

Winter got up and circled around to my side. She bent down, her lips brushing my ear.

“Correct,” she whispered. “So you get this—”

Her tongue flicked against my earlobe. Then her hand dipped between my legs, joining Karina’s, making me twitch violently in my seat.

I gritted my teeth, eyes squeezing shut.

"Focus," Yeji sang from behind her hand, pretending to read a book. "You're making faces. They’ll notice.”

I forced myself to the second problem. It was barely legible now.

Behind me, Yuna crouched and slid her hand under the back of my shirt, her nails scratching lightly down my spine.

“Wrong,” she whispered. “You mixed up the year.”

She reached around and grabbed me harshly, jerking me once, twice—just enough to make me see stars—then letting go.

“Bad boys don’t get to cum,” she hissed.

“Third question,” Karina said calmly. “If you get it right, maybe we’ll let you taste one of us.”

I nodded frantically and filled in the blank. Something about revolutions.

Winter peeked over my shoulder and smirked. “Close enough.”

Yeji pulled her chair closer and lifted one leg onto the table.

“No hands,” she whispered. “Just your mouth.”

I looked around—no one close.

Heart hammering, I leaned forward.

Yeji shivered when my tongue found her, legs trembling as she bit her fist to keep from moaning.

“You’re good at this,” she gasped. “Fuck—don’t stop—”

Karina gripped my chin and pulled me back.

“Fourth problem,” she said coolly. “Let’s see if your brain still works with your mouth busy.”

I barely read it. My hands were shaking. I circled an answer and prayed.

Winter checked it.

Then bent down, lifted her skirt, and sat on my lap, no underwear again.

“I’ll allow it,” she breathed, sinking down onto me.

I choked back a moan as her warmth enveloped me, and she immediately began grinding, slow and cruel and tight.

“Don’t. Make. A. Sound,” she hissed.

The table shifted slightly. Books wobbled.

Karina looked toward the front of the library.

“Shit,” she whispered. “Librarian’s coming.”

Yuna moved quickly, yanking a nearby blanket someone had left draped on the study chair and tossing it over my lap. Winter stayed perfectly still, biting her lip hard.

Yeji opened a book and leaned forward, pretending to read with exaggerated focus.

Karina sat back against the shelves, legs crossed, innocent as a nun.

The librarian’s heels clicked closer.

“Everything alright back here?” she asked.

I froze.

Winter didn’t. Her walls clenched.

“Just helping him study,” Karina said smoothly. “He’s working hard.”

The librarian hummed. “Good. Keep it down.”

As soon as she turned and walked off, Winter exhaled hard against my neck and began to ride me again, slower now, deliberately cruel.

“You’re not cumming until the last question’s done,” she whispered. “And we’re all satisfied.”

Yuna climbed onto the table and straddled my chest, pulling my face to her dripping heat. “Make up for question two,” she said.

Yeji stroked herself as she watched me tongue Yuna open, her moans muffled against her arm. Karina leaned down and whispered filth into my ear, her hands tugging and teasing me every time Winter lifted herself up.

“I’m close,” Winter gasped. “Hold on—don’t cum—”

“I’m—shit—I’m gonna—” I couldn’t hold it.

Karina’s nails dug into my thigh.

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

Then everything blurred—Yuna came with a high, desperate whimper, Yeji followed moments after with a strangled moan, and Winter finally gasped my name as she pulsed around me, trembling.

Only then did Karina pull my face to hers and kiss me like she owned me.

“You did better today,” she said, stroking me slowly. “We’re proud.”

Winter slid off, carefully pulling the blanket back over my lap.

I was soaked. Spent. Fucked half-senseless.

Karina whispered, “You can finish now,” and stroked me just right.

I came so hard I almost saw white.

We cleaned up quietly—well, they did. I could barely move.

Karina kissed my temple.

Yeji fixed my tie.

Yuna tucked the worksheet into my bag.

Winter licked her fingers clean and winked. “Same time tomorrow?”

I nodded, dazed.

“Good,” Karina said softly. “Because next time…”

She leaned in, lips brushing mine.

“…we’re not letting you leave at all.”

It had been one day since the library.

One day since Karina whispered filth in my ear while riding me behind a bookshelf. One day since Winter, Yeji, and Yuna took turns teasing me to the edge with eyes locked on the door, waiting to see if someone—anyone—would walk in and catch us.

No one did.

But someone noticed.

“Come see me after class,” Ms. Shin said, sliding a post-it on my desk as she walked by.

No explanation. No expression. Just the quiet weight of her words and the way her eyes lingered on me… like she was studying a lie.

Karina leaned over from behind me. “She called you?”

I nodded.

“She knows,” Yeji said from the next desk, not even bothering to whisper.

“She suspects,” Winter corrected, looking too calm. “There’s a difference.”

Yuna, chewing on the tip of her pen, smiled lazily. “So what? She can’t prove anything.”

Karina’s fingers trailed up the back of my neck. “She doesn’t have to prove it. She just has to separate us.”

The idea made my stomach twist.

After the bell, I made my way to Ms. Shin’s office, heart pounding like a drumline. Her door was cracked open.

“Close it,” she said without turning around.

I obeyed.

She didn’t look at me at first. Just tapped her pen against a sheet of paper.

“I’ve taught here for eight years,” she said finally. “And I’ve never had a group as... close-knit as yours.”

I stayed silent.

“The four of them cling to you like satellites. Always orbiting. Always watching. And you… you’ve changed.”

“I—”

“Don’t lie to me,” she said sharply, cutting me off. “You’re distracted. Your posture, your eyes. You flinch when someone touches your shoulder. And your test scores are slipping.”

I clenched my fists.

“If something’s happening between you and those girls—something inappropriate—you need to tell me now.”

She turned toward me, eyes sharp and concerned.

“I can help you. I can reassign you. I can call your parents if you're too scared to say anything.”

“I’m not scared,” I said, too quickly.

“So there is something,” she murmured.

Shit.

I backpedaled fast. “No. I just meant—I don’t need help. There’s nothing going on.”

Ms. Shin leaned back slowly, searching my face.

“You’re a smart boy,” she said. “But you’re not a good liar.”

The room felt like it was shrinking.

“If I find out they’ve coerced you—”

“They didn’t,” I snapped.

That caught her off guard.

“They didn’t coerce me. It’s not… like that.”

“So what is it, then?” she asked.

I couldn’t answer. Because the truth was messier than anything she was imagining.

Karina walking into my room without knocking. Winter crawling into my lap with a hungry look. Yeji pinning me to a wall during break. Yuna whispering threats into my ear with a smile on her lips and her hand down my pants.

It wasn’t coercion.

It was obsession.

And it was mutual.

“I just want to focus on school,” I said, the lie catching in my throat. “That’s all.”

Ms. Shin looked unconvinced.

“You’ll work with me from now on,” she said. “No more group projects. No more ‘study sessions.’ You stay after school, here, under my supervision.”

“I—”

“That’s final.”

I left the office feeling like I’d been sentenced.

They were waiting.

Outside the classroom. All four of them.

Karina leaned against the wall, arms crossed, face unreadable.

Winter looked like she already knew what happened.

Yeji tilted her head. “How bad?”

“She’s pulling me from the group,” I muttered.

Yuna blinked. “She what?”

“She wants me working under her from now on.”

Karina stepped forward. “She’s trying to isolate you.”

Winter grabbed my hand. “That’s not going to happen.”

Yeji glanced down the hallway. “Where is she now?”

“She’s still in her office,” I said. “Planning whatever ‘private sessions’ she has in mind.”

Yuna smiled, slow and feral. “So we beat her to it.”

“What?”

Karina took my wrist, firm and final. “Storage room. Now.”

The door clicked shut behind us.

No light. Just shadows and breath.

Winter pinned me against the shelf first. “She wants to protect you?”

Yeji’s hands slid under my shirt. “She wants to own you.”

Karina was unbuttoning my pants already. “But she’s too late.”

Yuna pulled her skirt up. “We claimed you first.”

The girls didn’t take turns this time. They swarmed.

Hands everywhere—Karina’s mouth on my neck, Winter’s fingers around my length, Yeji licking up my chest, Yuna grinding on my thigh.

I tried to speak. Couldn’t.

“You don’t want her,” Winter whispered against my ear. “You want this.”

“You want us,” Karina hissed, sinking down onto me before I could even gasp. “Say it.”

“I want you,” I groaned, biting my lip to muffle it.

Karina rode me hard, fast, one hand clamped over my mouth while Yeji held my hips still. Winter and Yuna knelt below, licking and moaning, their tongues trailing over everything Karina left exposed.

“I’ll go to her office,” Yuna whispered between licks. “I’ll tell her to back off.”

Karina moaned. “If she doesn’t... we’ll make her.”

The climax hit hard and fast, Karina milking me dry while the other girls moaned, whispering about how they’d keep me hidden forever if they had to.

Afterward, they dressed me, button by button, fixing my tie like nothing had happened.

“She’s watching,” Karina said. “We know.”

Winter cupped my cheek. “She’ll try to separate us.”

Yuna kissed me softly. “Let her try.”

Yeji leaned close, voice like velvet. “If she takes you… we’ll take you back.”

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