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sinlillith · 3 months ago

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TALK ME THROUGH IT.

CHARACTERS: VI ;; CAITLYN KIRAMMAN ;; CASSANDRA KIRAMMAN ;; SEVIKA ;; JINX ;; AMBESSA MEDARDA ;; ELLIE WILLIAMS ;; ABBY ANDERSON ;; MIZU.

PAIRINGS: ALL X SUB!FEM!READER (one for each scenario)

WARNING(S): lowercase, explicit content (minors & men dni) TAGS: strap-on sex ;; riding ;; gentle dirty talk ;; praise kink ;; eye contact ;; age gap (for cassandra and ambessa) ;; mommy kink ;; manhandling ;; neck holding ;; praise/degradation ;; discipline kink ;; possessive restraint.

navigation.

you were the one who said “i wanna try riding.” you. not her.

so why the fuck are you trembling like a leaf in her lap, thighs shaking, palms braced against her inked-up chest, eyes glassy as the strap pushes up against your dripping cunt?

vi’s grin is slow, almost smug. but her voice? low, dangerous, with that dangerous sweetness you only get when she’s got you exactly where she wants you.

“aw, what happened to all that big talk, baby? thought you said you were gonna take control tonight.”

you whimper, shifting nervously, your bare knees bracketing her hips. she’s fully leaned back against the headboard now, strap-up, arms behind her head like she’s lounging—but her biceps are flexing, jaw clenched, eyes glued to the way your pussy twitches against the silicone.

“i-i still wanna try…” you mumble, cheeks burning.

vi clicks her tongue, and it’s condescending. “you’re already soaked. you’re fuckin’ throbbing for it, sweetheart.” she leans forward and grabs your face with one hand, forcing you to look at her. “so what’s the problem?”

you swallow hard. “it’s big.”

vi smirks. “yeah. it is.” her grip tightens on your jaw. “but you wanted it, didn’t you? so now you’re gonna take it.”

and when you hesitate? that’s when she shifts under you—thrusting her hips up just enough to make the thick head part your folds—and your gasp rips through the room.

she growls, deep in her chest. “you hear that? that pretty fuckin’ sound you just made?” her hands are gripping your hips now, pinning you in place. “you’re not scared. you’re needy. your pussy’s begging to be split open.”

you moan, breathless, overwhelmed, but—fuck—you grind down anyway.

“fuuuck yeah,” vi groans, voice shuddering as you take her inch by inch. “look at you. goin’ dumb on my strap already and i haven’t even moved.”

your hands are clawing at her abs now, muscles twitching under your touch as you force yourself to drop the rest of the way down, letting out a strangled sob when she bottoms out inside you.

vi’s head falls back. “oh my fuck, baby. that’s it. take it all. ride it like a good fuckin’ girl.”

you start to move. slowly at first. rolling your hips with shaky breaths, your thighs trembling under the stretch. but vi’s hands are still on you. still controlling you.

and then—

she snaps her hips up once, sharp and fast. you scream.

“you feel that?” she growls, pulling you back down by your waist and grinding you into her. “that’s what i fuckin’ do to you.”

“v-vi, oh my god—”

“that’s not my name, baby,” she snarls in your ear, dragging your hips up just to slam you back down. “try again.”

“mommy,” you gasp. “mommy, please—”

“oh, fuck, that’s more like it.” she grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back just enough to watch your face twist with every bounce. “that’s my fuckin’ girl. so tight around me. so pretty when you cry.”

your thighs are burning now, pace stuttering as your orgasm starts to build too fast, too sharp.

“can’t—can’t hold it—”

vi’s hand snakes up to your throat, not tight, just there. just enough pressure to make your breath hitch.

“you will,” she whispers. “you’ll fuckin’ take it, and you’ll look me in the eyes while you do it.”

you do.

eyes glossy, lips parted, drool slipping past the corner of your mouth. and vi—vi groans like she’s going insane.

“oh, baby. you look ruined already. that cock got your brain all fuzzy, huh?” she lets go of your throat and slides her hand between your legs, thumb finding your clit, circling it rough and fast. “cum for me. now. i wanna feel it.”

you cry out so loud it echoes, body seizing around her, thighs clenching as you grind into her with messy, needy thrusts. your pussy pulses around the strap and your vision blurs.

but vi’s not done.

“again.”

you shake your head, weakly. “i c-can’t—”

“yes, you fuckin’ can.” she slaps your ass once—hard. “ride me until you cry. i’m not lettin’ you off this cock until you give me everything.”

so you do. you bounce, you grind, you sob into her shoulder until your second orgasm rips through you like fire. and vi’s holding your hips in place, panting in your ear, telling you over and over—

“that’s it. that’s my girl. fuckin’ melt for me.”

when you finally collapse against her, twitching and sore and gasping for breath, vi pulls the strap out slowly, watching your slick coat the toy, watching your thighs tremble with aftershocks.

then she tosses it aside and holds you tight.

“hey. you with me?” she murmurs, her voice softer now, no teasing—just concern.

you nod faintly, still panting. “y-yeah. fuck.”

she kisses your temple. “you were so good for me. so fuckin’ beautiful when you break like that.”

her fingers are already between your legs again, gentle this time, rubbing soothing circles.

“next time,” she whispers, lips against your neck, “i’m gonna make you beg to stay on it.”

you moan, boneless in her arms. “next time?”

vi laughs softly. “baby. we’re just getting started.”

caitlyn kiramman

it’s not the first time she’s kissed you breathless. but it is the first time you’re in her lap like this—naked, trembling, thighs straddling her hips, her strap already slicked with lube and waiting.

caitlyn’s posture is perfect as always: back straight, gloves removed, shirt open at the collar, the toy strapped between her thighs like it’s a weapon holstered in silk. her hands are on your waist—steady, unshakable, like they were molded for holding you there.

you shift slightly, and the strap rubs against your entrance.

you freeze.

caitlyn notices. of course she does.

she lifts her eyes to yours, voice smooth as honey over marble. “talk to me.”

you breathe in, shaky. “i… i want to do it. just— i’m scared.”

she hums, thoughtful. her thumbs rub lazy circles into your hips. “do you want me to guide you through it?”

you nod.

a slow smile spreads across her lips, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes—not because she isn’t soft with you, but because even her softness feels dangerous. controlled. commanding. like everything she does is calculated to ruin you just right.

“very well, sweetheart.” she leans forward, lips brushing your ear. “do everything i say. breathe when i tell you to. move when i guide you. understood?”

you nod again, whispering, “yes, caitlyn.”

a low laugh hums in her throat. “good girl.”

she shifts beneath you, lining the strap up with your entrance. you can feel how soaked you are already—nerves, want, fear, all twisted together like a bow being pulled tight.

caitlyn tilts your chin up with two fingers.

“eyes on me,” she says softly. “inhale.”

you breathe in.

“now sink down—slowly.”

you obey. inch by inch, the strap presses into you, thick and unyielding but perfectly guided. you gasp, legs shaking already, clinging to her shoulders as your body stretches to take her.

“there you go,” caitlyn murmurs, eyes locked on your face, watching every twitch of pleasure and fear. “doing so well already. you feel that stretch? that fullness? that’s mine.”

you let out a soft moan. she’s not even halfway in and you already feel like you’re losing your mind.

“don’t rush,” she whispers. “i want you to feel every inch.”

you push down further, breathing ragged, and finally, you bottom out.

caitlyn exhales slowly, like she’s the one getting fucked.

“look at you,” she whispers, almost reverent. “sitting on my cock so sweetly. you were made for this.”

you whimper against her shoulder.

“now,” she continues, voice sharper, “rock your hips for me. gently. just like that.”

you begin to move. a slow, desperate grind—barely lifting off her before sliding back down. the pressure inside you makes your thighs tremble, but it’s the voice that keeps you going. her instructions. her praise.

“good girl. good. you’re doing so well.”

caitlyn’s hands move to your ass, gripping you tighter now, helping guide your pace.

“take a bit more, darling. that’s it. look at you—bouncing already.” her smile is deadly. “and here i thought you were nervous.”

you’re riding her properly now—hips rising and falling, the strap gliding in and out of you with slick ease. your moans are ragged, needy, and caitlyn is drinking them in.

her hand snakes up your spine, elegant fingers threading through your hair.

“let me hear you,” she murmurs. “tell me how it feels.”

you can barely speak, gasping, “s-so good, i— i feel so full—”

“i know, darling.” she kisses the corner of your jaw. “you are full. you’re stuffed with me. you look divine like this.”

her free hand snakes between your legs. her fingers press against your clit—deft, trained, precise.

you cry out, grinding down harder.

“more?” she asks, tilting her head.

you nod frantically. “please.”

“then keep going. you’re in control, but you’ll take what i give you.”

the strap starts to hit that perfect spot with every grind, and you lose your rhythm—hips stuttering, moans falling apart in caitlyn’s ear. you reach for her shoulders again, desperate, your thighs burning with effort.

she notices your struggle instantly and adjusts her position. holds you tighter. slides her hand up your chest to press against your sternum—grounding you.

“shh… i’ve got you.”

and then she starts thrusting up into you.

not wild. not messy. but deep, sharp, timed perfectly with the roll of your hips.

you scream.

“c-caitlyn—”

“that’s it, sweetheart,” she growls, her composure cracking. “ride me. cry for me. let go.”

your orgasm hits like lightning. it rips through your body and you collapse forward with a sob, shaking in her arms, thighs spasming as your walls clench down on her strap.

she doesn’t stop moving.

“still with me?” she whispers into your hair, her thrusts slowing. “one more. give me one more.”

you nod helplessly, tears clinging to your lashes. “y-yes…”

she lifts you slightly, angles her hips, and fucks up into you harder this time—deeper, rougher, her breath right against your mouth as she praises you between thrusts.

“perfect.” “taking me so well.” “you belong here.” “you’re mine.”

your second orgasm breaks you. you scream her name, body going limp as you collapse into her arms, sobbing into her shoulder, cunt still twitching around her strap.

she slows. stops.

and holds you.

she brushes the damp hair from your forehead, kisses your temple, and whispers, “you did beautifully, darling. i’m so proud of you.”

you cling to her like you’re drowning.

“i… i love when you talk to me like that,” you whisper. “like you’re still in control. even when i’m the one on top.”

she chuckles softly. “oh, my sweet girl…” her arms tighten around you. “i’m always in control.”

cassandra kiramman

“you said you wanted to prove something tonight,” cassandra murmurs, silk slipping off her voice like wine off crystal. “so prove it.”

you’re in her lap.

literally. naked. knees bracketing her thighs. the heavy strap between your legs makes your muscles tense and your heart flutter like a frightened thing in a cage.

cassandra is fully dressed beneath you—silk shirt unbuttoned just enough to tease, dark trousers tailored to hell, long legs spread just enough for the strap to jut up between them. the toy is strapped tight to her, perfectly aligned, and her gloved hands rest calmly on your hips. waiting.

and you?

you’re trembling.

“i-i can do it,” you whisper, eyes avoiding hers.

“i know you can,” she replies, voice too soft to be safe. “but i want you to look at me when you do it.”

you meet her gaze.

she looks so calm. so poised. but there’s a hunger there, buried deep behind those eyes. a predator in pearls. her jaw flexes as she exhales slowly, fingers tightening on your hips.

“good girl,” she murmurs. “now… take a breath. and start sinking down.”

you obey, inch by inch, your slick heat stretching around the thick head of her strap. you gasp, hands gripping her shoulders as your legs shake.

cassandra doesn’t move. she doesn’t push or thrust or guide. she just sits there like a throne for you to worship, her voice your leash.

“that’s it. you’re doing so well.” her eyes flick down, watching the way you swallow her strap. “you’re so tight, baby. so warm around me. look how easily your pretty little body opens for me.”

you cry out, overwhelmed, thighs trembling as the strap fills you to the hilt.

“slow,” she reminds you. “i want you to feel it. every inch.”

your breath stutters. she doesn’t stop watching you. one hand lifts—gloved fingers trailing from your jaw down to your chest, resting just above your heart.

“can you hear that?” she murmurs. “you’re fluttering like a scared thing.”

you nod, wide-eyed. “it’s… a lot.”

she smiles—soft, indulgent, and wicked. “of course it is. that’s the point.”

you start to ride.

slowly. nervously. your rhythm wobbles, thighs burning as you rise and fall on her cock, skin slapping wetly, eyes already glossy.

cassandra groans softly, breath warm against your cheek. “you look divine like this. so young, so sweet, fucking yourself open just to impress me.”

“i—i want to make you feel good—”

“oh, darling,” she interrupts, voice like velvet and ice, “you already do.”

her hand slides to your throat—gloved, firm, not choking, just holding. like a reminder. like a promise.

“i could sit here and watch you ruin yourself on me all night,” she purrs. “keep going.”

you bounce harder. faster. your moans grow louder, needier, your pace sloppy with desperation.

she chuckles, low. “there it is. that perfect little sound. cry for me, baby.”

your climax hits without warning—tight, fast, devastating. you cry out her name as your body collapses forward, shaking in her lap.

but cassandra doesn’t let go.

she wraps an arm around you, holding you in place as your cunt pulses around the strap still inside you.

“that’s my girl,” she breathes against your temple. “my sweet, obedient thing.”

when your breathing steadies, you whisper, “i want to do more…”

she hums, fingers stroking your thighs. “you will. but not tonight.”

“why not?”

cassandra lifts your face to hers, eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

“because i want you to ache for it next time.”

sevika

the room smells like smoke and sweat. you’re straddling her thighs, naked and shaky, thighs trembling from how long she’s been teasing you.

sevika’s sprawled out on the worn couch, arm slung over the backrest, cigar still burning between two fingers. her shirt’s unbuttoned just enough for you to glimpse the top of her chest tattoo. her strap? slicked, thick, and positioned between her legs like it belongs there.

you shift your hips and it presses right up against your soaked folds, and you flinch.

“scared?” she asks, arching an eyebrow.

“no—nervous,” you whisper.

she exhales a puff of smoke and scoffs. “same thing, baby.”

you bite your lip, shoulders tense.

she watches you like you’re something fragile about to break—or something she’s about to break on purpose. then, slowly, sevika brings the cigar to her lips again, inhales, and speaks with that voice like gravel and heat:

“you wanna be good for me? then ride.”

you nod, hands braced on her shoulders.

“talk me through it,” you plead. “please.”

her eyes narrow, but the corner of her mouth twitches—almost like she likes hearing you beg.

“yeah?” she grunts. “alright. i’ll talk you through it.”

she tosses the cigar into the tray beside the couch, grabs the base of the strap, and lines it up for you.

“start slow,” she murmurs. “just the tip. let me see that pretty pussy stretch for me.”

you sink down just enough to feel the thick head part your folds and whimper, your breath hitching.

sevika’s hand grips your hip. tight.

“there you go. fuck. look at that—already drippin’ all over me.”

you tremble, inching down further.

“breathe. that’s it. take me slow. you can take more. yeah… that’s my fuckin’ girl.”

you slide down all the way and cry out.

her hands stay on your hips, grounding you, pressing you deeper onto her lap.

“fuckin’ hell…” she groans. “you feel that? you’re stuffed full, baby. can feel you twitchin’ already.”

you nod, tear-eyed. “it’s so much…”

she leans forward, grabs your jaw. “you said you wanted it. so ride. i’m not doin’ the work for you tonight.”

so you ride.

slowly at first—desperate, whimpering, fucking yourself on her strap while her thighs flex under you. sevika watches. burns you alive with that stare.

and then—she growls, deep and hungry.

“faster.”

you obey. bouncing now, your moans spilling out, cunt squeezing around the strap with every slap of skin on skin.

she grabs your neck. not tight. just claiming it.

“look at you,” she pants, jaw clenched. “riding like a good fuckin’ girl. you want me to cum just from watchin’? is that it?”

“i—wanna make you feel good—”

she laughs—sharp, wrecked.

“you already do, baby. fuck, you got no fuckin’ clue what you do to me.”

you stutter, grinding harder, your orgasm curling tight in your belly.

“sevika—please—i’m gonna—”

“then fuckin’ do it.”

she grabs your hips and slams you down once, deep and hard, and you scream as your orgasm rips through you, body going limp against her.

she holds you there.

lets you twitch. lets you sob into her neck.

then she presses a kiss to your shoulder and mutters, voice low and ruined:

“…did so good, baby. fuck. you’re mine.”

jinx

your thighs are shaking.

the strap-on’s already lined up against your soaked pussy, thick and veiny and bright pink—because of course jinx picked the most ridiculous toy at the shop—and she’s lying back on the floor of her workshop, grinning up at you like she’s watching her birthday present unwrap itself.

her hands are behind her head like she’s lounging, and her long legs are lazily spread, the harness snug against her hips.

you’re on top. naked. nervous. soaked.

and she’s waiting.

“what’s the hold up, cupcake?” she purrs, her tone sickly sweet and taunting. “you said you wanted to ride me—now you look like a baby deer tryna walk for the first time. ‘cept your legs are full of cum instead of bones.”

you whimper. “can… can you talk me through it?”

jinx freezes. her grin widens. something feral flashes behind those pink-rimmed eyes.

“ohhhhhh,” she drawls, sitting up just a little. “so you want me to coach you through bouncing on my cock?”

you nod, eyes wide, lips parted.

she cackles. full body, head-thrown-back laughter.

“you’re soooo fucked, sugar.”

then her hands shoot out and yank you down by the waist so the head of her strap kisses your folds—hot, wet, right there.

you cry out. she doesn’t move.

“shhhh,” she whispers, voice suddenly soft and deadly, brushing her nose up your neck. “i’ll be nice. kinda. you ready?”

you nod.

“then sink down, slow like honey. let me watch you struggle, babygirl.”

you do.

the stretch is brutal. she picked the thickest one in the box. of course she did.

your nails dig into her shoulders as you try to take more of her, inch by inch, whining, your voice cracking.

jinx moans.

“fuuuck, look at you takin’ it. drippin’ already. you like when i stretch you out, huh? little slutty body just eats it up.”

you whimper, flushed and panting.

“almost there,” she whispers. “c’mon, cupcake. you can sit all the way down. you want me proud, don’tcha?”

you finally bottom out with a cry, trembling in her lap.

jinx growls and licks a stripe up your neck. “there it is. that’s my seat, huh?”

you start moving. slowly. up, down, hips shaking.

and she talks.

“faster, baby. use me. i’m not doing shit. you wanted this.”

“look at you—takin’ me so deep, you’re probably forgettin’ your own fuckin’ name.”

“go dumb on my cock, sugar. bounce like you mean it.”

you’re moaning, gasping, sobbing, and she’s laughing—hands now gripping your hips to help, pulling you down harder, rougher, her cock slamming into you.

“good fucking girl,” she snarls, eyes wide and wild. “make yourself cum on me. you’re not gettin’ off this strap till you’ve screamed my name.”

you do. loud. shaking. clinging to her like she’s the only thing keeping you together as you collapse into her lap and cum hard, crying, twitching on her cock.

she holds you, giggling against your neck.

“there’s my favorite little mess,” she whispers. “told ya i’d talk you through it.”

ambessa medarda

she’s seated in a leather chair like it’s her throne.

her suit jacket is off. her sleeves are rolled. her strap is already fixed to her hips, thick and dark, the leather harness gleaming under the soft golden light of her quarters.

you’re naked. straddling her. knees on either side of her thighs. hovering over the cock she’s watching you try not to flinch from.

and you? you’re shaking. breathless. wide-eyed.

ambessa notices.

of course she does.

her tone stays calm, cool. “you asked to be on top.”

you nod quickly. “i know, i just…”

“now you hesitate.”

you swallow. “can you talk me through it?”

her eyes narrow. but not in annoyance. in interest.

she shifts, sits up straighter. her large hands fall to your hips—deliberate, possessive.

“oh, my sweet girl…” she murmurs, low and amused. “you want to be in control, but still be led?”

you nod again, flushed and trembling.

she tilts her head. “then you’ll do exactly as i say.”

her voice is suddenly cold and sharp. her grip tightens.

“take a breath.”

you do.

“line yourself up. that’s it.”

you lower your hips, the thick head pressing against your entrance, slick and hot. you gasp.

ambessa watches you like she’s training a soldier and seducing a lover all in the same breath.

“now sink down. slowly. no crying until you’re full.”

you whimper.

“don’t start, little one. you wanted this. i’ll tell you when to stop.”

you begin to lower yourself onto her strap.

inch by inch. her cock stretching you open. your thighs burn. your breath stutters.

she doesn’t flinch.

“keep going. i want to watch your cunt take it all.”

you bottom out with a sob, trembling in her lap, face hidden in her shoulder.

her hands trace the curve of your ass, spreading you just slightly. she hums with approval.

“there,” she says, warm breath at your ear. “you took it. and you didn’t break.”

you shift—start to move—and she growls, low.

“not yet.”

you freeze.

“i didn’t tell you to move,” she whispers. “still.”

you obey.

ambessa kisses your temple. gentle. patronizing.

“good girl.”

then—

“now ride.”

you start slowly. her strap drags against your walls, thick and unrelenting.

ambessa leans back in the chair, her hand gripping one thigh, the other curling around your throat—not squeezing, just resting.

“up. down. let me see those hips.”

you move faster.

your moans grow louder. she exhales slowly, her jaw clenched, eyes locked on your fucked-out expression.

“you’re shaking. keep going.”

“i—i can’t—”

“you will.”

she grabs your waist and starts guiding you, thrusting up into you with just enough force to make your breath hitch.

“take it,” she growls. “you asked for this. asked to be led. now follow, girl.”

you ride her harder, your climax ripping through you—messy, wet, broken.

you sob her name and she pulls you close, keeps you there, lets you ride the aftershocks until your body goes limp.

only then does her hand stroke your back.

“there she is,” she murmurs, voice soft now. “my obedient little thing.”

ellie williams

you’re on top of her. straddling her lap. naked. shaking.

ellie’s got her backwards cap tossed on the nightstand, tank top pushed up, tattoos on full display, strap on and already slick with your arousal from earlier grinding.

she’s under you, legs spread, arms behind her head, green eyes locked on the way your cunt flutters just above her cock.

and you're frozen.

“i-i wanna ride you,” you whisper, “but i need you to talk me through it.”

ellie’s smirk falters.

her arms drop. her hands grab your thighs—hard.

“fuck.”

she swallows. voice lower now. realer.

“you want me to talk you through riding my cock?”

you nod, breath catching.

she exhales sharp through her nose, dragging her hands up to your hips.

“okay, baby. alright. i got you.”

she lines you up with one hand, the other sliding up your back.

“take a deep breath. you’re fuckin’ soaked—she wants it. just let her have it.”

you lower down slowly. the strap presses in, thick and hot. you gasp, clinging to her shoulders.

“thaaaat’s it, yeah. just like that. fuck, look at you. taking me so good.”

her voice is wrecked already, hands steady, not forcing—just guiding.

“go slow. feel all of it. let me watch you fall apart on this dick.”

you bottom out, hips flush, and she groans so hard her voice cracks.

“jesus christ—fuck—you feel that, baby? full now, huh?”

“y-yeah,” you whimper. “so full.”

“you gonna start movin’? or you just gonna sit there lookin’ like the prettiest fuckin’ picture i’ve ever seen?”

you lift your hips, shaky, then sink back down—and her hand flies up to grip your throat.

“that’s it. there’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

you start bouncing, desperate now, crying out with every thrust. the strap slams into you perfect, deep, thick.

ellie’s voice is constant.

“atta girl. fuckin’ ride it. use me.” “god—look at you. fallin’ apart on me.” “lemme hear you, baby. you sound so fuckin’ good like this.”

you’re close. so close.

ellie notices instantly—grabs your waist, slams you down harder.

“you gonna cum on me, huh? gonna make a mess on my cock?”

you nod helplessly, moaning.

“then do it. fuckin’ fall apart for me. you earned it.”

you cum hard, crying out, hips jerking. she holds you through it, arms wrapped around you, pressing kisses to your neck.

you’re panting, limp, shaking in her lap.

ellie’s voice turns soft. tender.

“you did so good, baby. fuckin’ melted for me.”

you breathe, forehead against hers.

“again?”

she grins.

“oh, we’re gonna be here all night.”

abby anderson

your thighs are burning.

you’re straddling abby’s lap, naked and flushed, hips hovering over her strap. it’s big—of course it is—and lube-slick, angled up between your legs while she leans back against the headboard, strong arms flexed behind her, chest heaving.

you’d been teasing her all night. until now. now you’re just—nervous.

“can… can you talk me through it?” you whisper.

abby blinks.

the request hits her like a gunshot to the chest.

“…shit,” she mutters, sitting up straighter. her big hands instantly find your waist. “yeah. yeah, of course i can, baby.”

she presses a kiss to your jaw. “take your time, okay? i’ve got you.”

her voice is so soft, but her grip is grounding, the kind of strength that makes you want to obey.

“start slow. just the tip first, alright?”

you nod, lining yourself up, the head slipping past your folds—and you gasp.

“there it is. good girl. you’re already so wet for me.”

you sink a little deeper.

abby groans.

“jesus… fuck. that’s it, baby. just breathe.”

she slides one hand to your lower back, keeping you steady as you take more, inch by inch, her cock stretching you perfectly.

“almost there. you can do this. you’re so good for me.”

you finally bottom out, body shaking.

abby pulls you in close, kissing your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist like you’re the most precious thing she’s ever touched.

“you okay?”

you nod breathlessly. “y-yeah.”

she brushes your hair back.

“then ride me, baby. c’mon. i wanna feel you fall apart.”

you move.

slowly, rhythmically, hips rising and falling—and she talks you through every single thrust.

“that’s it.” “good fuckin’ girl.” “you’re takin’ all of me, huh?” “look at that. you’re so pretty like this.”

your moans start getting louder, messier, hands digging into her shoulders as your body pulses and trembles with each bounce.

her arms? wrapping tighter. helping lift you. pulling you down just right.

“you close, baby?” she murmurs.

“mmhmm—s-so close—”

“then cum. right here. in my arms.”

you do.

you break. writhing in her lap, sobbing her name, soaking her strap and thighs as your climax rips through you. abby holds you the whole time—breath hot in your ear, hand rubbing circles into your back.

“good girl,” she breathes. “you did so good for me. so fuckin’ perfect.”

you slump against her chest, boneless and crying soft, happy tears.

“can i do it again?” you mumble.

she kisses your forehead.

“you can ride me as many times as you want, baby. i’m not going anywhere.”

mizu

you’re in her lap. naked. knees tucked tight against her hips. her strap is thick, cold, perfectly still between your legs. mizu hasn’t moved.

she’s leaning back slightly, sleeves rolled, harness buckled and still—watching. waiting.

her blue eyes flick down to your trembling thighs. then back up. she doesn’t ask why you’re shaking. she knows.

and when you whisper—quiet, afraid, “can you talk me through it?”— she tilts her head.

“say it again.”

you look up at her, flushed, eyes wide. “c-can you… talk me through it? please?”

mizu closes her eyes like she’s trying to breathe through something tight. like she’s in pain.

“…fine,” she mutters. “i’ll guide you.”

she spreads her knees wider beneath you. the strap shifts—black leather, perfectly fitted—and her hands move to your hips.

“start slow,” she says quietly. “no noise. just breathe.”

you lower yourself onto her strap, inch by inch, gasping softly at the stretch. the toy presses deep, thick and slick, and her grip tightens on your hips like she’s barely keeping still.

“that’s it. take all of it. don’t stop halfway.”

you gasp, thighs shaking.

“you’re twitching,” mizu murmurs. “you wanted this. you can take it.”

you bottom out with a cry, trembling in her lap. mizu exhales slowly, jaw clenched.

“you’re full now. good.”

you start to ride.

slow, broken bounces. your body rocks, mouth open in gasping moans—and she watches. still. silent. but her fingers flex against your skin.

“faster.”

you move quicker. slick sounds echo in the air. your moans grow high, desperate, too loud—until she snaps.

“quiet.”

she grabs your jaw, pulls you in close.

“you’re already falling apart?” she whispers, almost cruel. “i haven’t even moved.”

she slams her hips up once—hard—and you scream.

“again,” she says flatly.

you bounce harder, sloppy, overwhelmed—and mizu finally grips your waist, guiding you, slamming you down onto her cock with ruthless control.

“you wanted my voice,” she growls in your ear. “then listen.”

you sob as your orgasm hits, shaking and pulsing on her strap, clinging to her shoulders.

mizu holds you there. breath heavy. one hand in your hair, the other still locked on your waist.

“…you did well.”

you nod, tear-eyed. “thank you…”

her lips graze your throat.

“next time,” she whispers, “you’ll ask before you get on top.”

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