I want a session where my nipples are the main focus. The ler starts with some warm up pokes and tickles through my clothes, eventually getting their hands under my shirt and pulling my bra down to gently rub my nipples as I stand there and pretend to not want it. Then he walks me over to the bed and lays me down, leaves my shirt covering my torso but my bra pulled down. He starts spider tickling my nipples through my shirt and I resist the urge to fight back for a little before I try to grab his hands. He easily pins my arms above my head and with his other hand, tickles my upper ribs before returning to my very sensitive breasts. Soon after, he ties my arms and then legs, spread eagle, and stays by my feet to get some good laughs. He works his way back up, with stops at my knees and emphasis on my inner thighs. Next, he grabs lotion and lathers my stomach up before tickling me into near-psychosis. I thrash and tire myself out and when he thinks I’ve had enough, he goes back to the nipples. Now, my shirt is lifted and behind my head, my bra has been removed, and he spider tickles, rubs, pinches, and plays around with my nipples until I’m making any and every sound. As I curse at him for not giving me a break, he hunkers down and continues to tickle my nipples incessantly. Eventually I’ve begged and screamed enough, so he decides to be nice. He wants to give me some relief so lowers my shirt over my head, just low enough to cover my chest. He leaves one boob covered and one uncovered, where he places his mouth on the uncovered nipple and gently puckers and unpuckers, kissing it gently and almost creating a light suction. While doing this, the other nipple is being so gently circled through my shirt. He does this until my back arches and my hips move. Then he picks up speed a little. He hardens his tongue and flicks it across my nipple, and tickles the covered nipple with a little more pressure. As my laughter picks back up, I ask him to go back to what he was doing before and he denies my request. He sits himself up on my stomach and lowers my shirt over both boobs, creating a tight and flat surface with the shirt. Then he tickles and tickles and tickles. I shake and throw my head, I cackle, and try to convince myself that everything is actually fine and I can handle it, until he doesn’t stop and the cycle repeats itself. I tell him my nipples are getting sore, they’re so sensitive. And he says he has the remedy. He grabs the lotion again and lifts my shirt all the way up, behind my head, and lathers lotion in my armpits, which catches me off guard. I giggle and laugh and thank him for switching spots. He smiles and pumps more lotion into his hands before applying it to my breasts. Knowing now what he’s going to do, I panic. I beg for him to tickle anywhere else, to take a brush to my feet or torture my stomach and sides but please leave my nipples alone. Naturally, he doesn’t listen. He adds extra lotion and explains that my nipples are sore because of the friction but if he creates some slip, it will be enjoyable again. I tense up as he rubs the lotion on my nipples and teases me with lingering hands gliding off and on my boobs. Then, he tickles my nipples and watches in delight as I go crazy from the sensation. It tickles too much for me to know what to do with myself. I’m tied too tight, he’s got his legs pinned around my torso, and I’m tired. There’s nothing to do but lay there and take and it and laugh like an idiot. So I do. I lay there and laugh and he sits there and tickles until he feels I’ve had enough. And when he stops, I catch my breath and bait him into doing it all over again 😌
cw: explicit smut, creampie, your best friend toji can’t help but suck on your tits when they’re in his face.
You’re standing between his knees on the sagging couch, legs bracketing his spread thighs, trying to salvage something resembling “professional” out of his perpetually fucked-up hair.
He’s got an important meeting in like forty-five minutes—some back-alley deal with a couple ex-sorcerers who apparently pay stupid money for stupid jobs. “Good payout,” he’d grunted when he asked you to fix him up. That’s Toji code for “don’t ask questions and don’t make me late.”
You’re working fast. One hand cups the back of his head, steadying him; the other rakes through the damp black strands with a little water from a spray bottle and a pea-sized dollop of the cheap gel you keep in your bathroom drawer. His hair’s thick, stubborn, always falling into that lazy, dangerous flop over his forehead no matter what you do.
Your tank top is way too short and at least one size too small—rides up with every reach. You lean in closer to get the front right, elbows brushing his shoulders. The fabric stretches tight across your chest. One wrong shift and—Pop!
Your left tit slips free entirely, nipple already half-hard from the cool air and the friction of cotton all morning. It’s right there—swaying an inch from his nose. Toji goes still. You don’t notice at first. Too focused on sculpting that one rogue piece that refuses to behave. Then you feel it: warm breath ghosting over sensitive skin. Then—
His mouth closes around your nipple in one smooth, shameless motion. A wet, sucking pull. Tongue circling around your sensitive nipple. Your whole body locks up and you look down. “Toji—” he doesn’t stop, sucking harder as his cheeks hollow, as he laps at your breast. His eyes are half lidded, he’s clearly enjoying himself.
“Toji, what the fu—” Your nipple’s swollen, glistening, darker than the rest of you now, and the cool air after his mouth feels like a slap.
“They were right there,” he says again, rough hands running up your legs. His thumb brushes the crease where thigh meets ass. “Swingin’ in my face while you’re playin’ hairdresser. What’d you expect?”
You’re still standing between his spread thighs, his knees bracketing your legs, that stupid too-small tank top shoved up under your tits now from all the movement. You can see the thick outline of his cock straining against his sweats. “I was trying to make you look presentable for your shady little meeting,” you manage, trying for annoyed but landing somewhere closer to breathless. “Not… this.”
He smirks, green eyes flicking up to meet yours. “Yeah?” He leans forward again, just enough to drag the flat of his tongue over the wet peak he just abandoned. You twitch, thighs squeezing together on instinct. “You’re doin’ a shit job of actin’ mad about it, princess.”
His free hand comes up, cups the underside of the breast he hasn’t touched yet, thumb brushing over the neglected nipple until it pebbles tight. Then he’s guiding it slowly toward his mouth too, giving you every second to pull away. But you don’t.
Instead your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him groan. The sound vibrates through you again and you feel yourself get wetter, slick gathering at the tops of your thighs. “Toji,” you whisper, half plea now. “You’ve got that meeting in—”
“Fuck the meeting,” he mutters, voice muffled as he latches onto the second nipple, sucking harder this time. His hand on your ass finally slides higher, fingers dipping under the hem of your shorts, finding damp cotton and pressing against your clit.
You choke on a moan, knees buckling. He steadies you, “Been watchin’ these tits spill out every damn time you lean over for months,” he growls against your skin, switching back to the first nipple like he can’t decide which one he likes better. “You think I don’t notice? Think I’m not hard as fuck every time you ‘accidentally’ flash me?”
He nips and your hips jerk forward against his hand.“Say stop,” he rasps, finally pulling back far enough to look up at you. Lips shiny, pupils blown. “Say it and I’ll stop. We’ll fix my hair, I’ll go make my sketchy money, and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
His fingers flex against your soaked panties—“Or…” He drags his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting you there. “You can keep standin’ there lettin’ me suck on you till you’re drippin’ down my wrist. Your call, baby.”
His free hand grips your ass, kneading, spreading you open a little as his fingers dip lower—two sliding through your folds, coating themselves before pushing inside slow. You clench around him instantly moaning, “Toji—oh god—”
“Yeah, that’s it,” he growls. You can’t even form words—just a needy whine as he switches breasts again, sucking the other one deep while his thumb rubs messy circles over your clit.
When you finally slump forward, forehead dropping to the top of his head, he eases his fingers out slow, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean with a satisfied hum. “Good girl,” he rasps, pulling them free with a soft pop. “Now turn around.”
Before you can even process it, his big hands are on your hips, spinning you so your back is to him. He yanks your shorts and panties the rest of the way down in one rough tug, letting them tangle around your ankles. Then he’s hauling you back, sitting you down hard on his lap so your bare ass lands right on the fat, throbbing length of him still trapped in his sweats.
You grind back on instinct, slick pussy lips sliding along the thick ridge of his cock through the thin barrier. He shifts under you—hips lifting just a fraction—and you feel the slow drag of fabric as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and his cock flaps free. The fat head pops past your tight hole and into your wet cunt. “You’re such a perv,” you gasp, “All those times I ‘accidentally’ flashed you in the kitchen? Under the car hood when I was helpin’ with your junker? You were just sittin’ there gettin’ boners, huh?”
“Damn right.” He nibbles at you ear as he bounces you. “That time at the beach? Bikini top slippin’ while you bent over for the cooler? Nearly nutted in my trunks right there in front of everybody.” He punctuates it with a sharp slap to your inner thigh, “And don’t get me started on laundry day. Your shitty dryer always eatin’ your bras—tits bouncin’ free every time you reach for the high shelf. Been jerkin’ off to that for weeks, princess.”
“Fuck—you never said shit.” You’re panting now, grinding faster, the wet schlick of your pussy against his cock. “Why would I? You kept doin’ it.” He nips your shoulder, free hand coming up to maul your breast again—pinching the nipple he’d sucked raw earlier until you yelp.
You glance down between your bodies just in time to see it—his cock glistening, veins bulging, coated in your cream every time you lift up. The sight makes you clench hard; he curses under his breath, hips snapping up harder in retaliation. “Shit—do that again.”
You do—squeezing down on every upstroke, fluttering around the head when he’s almost out, you’re arching back against his chest, head thrown on his shoulder. “Gonna cum already?” he taunts, “Barely started and you’re shakin’ hard as hell.”
“Shut—shut up—” you gasp, but you’re too close, too full, too overwhelmed by his cock. “Just—don’t stop—fuck, Toji—” your whole body locks up, pussy spasming violently around him as you scream his name. His punishing thrusts, drawing it out until you’re whimpering, oversensitive and trembling.
“Fuck—good girl—cummin’ so hard on me—” His rhythm stutters as hot pulses fill your pussy, you can feel it leaking down your thighs, warm and sticky, mixing with your own mess.
Eventually he huffs a laugh, voice hoarse. “Hair’s completely fucked now.” You snort weakly, “Your meeting…”
“Fuck the meeting.” He nuzzles into your neck, one hand sliding up to cup your breast again, thumb circling the swollen nipple. “Got better things to do. Like gettin’ you to the bedroom so I can eat this pussy properly. Wanna taste what we just made.”
a/n: ima whore for a good titty suck like fuckkkkk
★ . . situationship!toji making you cūm mid-argument.
the tv flickers with some random action movie neither of you are really paying attention to.
you’re tucked against your eight months situation ship (?) side on the couch, legs spread lazily over his thigh, his big hand shoved down the front of your loose shorts. two thick fingers are lazily circling your clit, slow and almost absent-minded, like he’s just playing with you out of boredom while he watches the screen.
you’re trying to stay focused on the argument you started five minutes ago.
“i’m serious, toji,” you snap, voice a little breathy despite yourself. “you can’t just disappear for days and then show up like nothing happened. i’m not your fucking doormat—”
“mm,” he hums, not even looking at you. his fingers keep rubbing lazy little circles over your swollen clit, slick sounds barely audible under the movie. “you done yelling yet?”
you clench your jaw, heat crawling up your neck. “no, i’m not done. you always do this shit. you think you can just—”
his middle finger presses harder, dragging slow and firm right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. your breath hitches mid-sentence. toji’s lips twitch like he’s fighting a smirk, eyes still glued to the tv like he’s barely invested in what his hand is doing between your legs.
“keep going,” he says calmly. “i’m listening.”
you try. you realllly do. but his touch is getting more deliberate now, fingers sliding down to spread your wetness before coming back up to rub tight, slick circles on your clit. your thighs twitch, one foot pressing into the couch cushion.
“you’re such an asshole,” you hiss, but your voice is losing its edge. “you disappear, you don’t text, you don’t—fuck—”
toji’s finger speeds up just a fraction, still lazy but consistent, perfect pressure that makes your hips start to roll into his hand without your permission. he finally glances over at you, eyes dark and amused.
“what was that?” he asks, voice low and smug. “i didn’t catch the last part, sweetheart.”
you grab his wrist, but you don’t pull him away. your breathing is getting faster, chest rising and falling as the pleasure builds against your will. “i said… you’re a selfish prick, toji—”
he chuckles, low and rough, and suddenly his fingers move faster, rubbing your clit with firm, relentless strokes. your shorts are soaked, the fabric sticking to you as his thick fingers work you open. your argument is crumbling, words turning into soft, broken gasps.
“yeah?” he murmurs, finally turning his full attention to you. “keep telling me how much you hate me while you’re dripping all over my hand.”
your head falls back against the couch, hips grinding desperately into his palm. the tv noise fades into background static. all you can focus on is the tight, aching heat building fast between your legs.
“toji— fuck, i’m— i’m still mad at you—”
“i know,” he says, almost sweetly, but his fingers don’t stop. he rubs your clit faster, harder, using the slick mess you’re making to glide perfectly over that sensitive spot. “cum anyway.”
it hits you mid-breath.
your back arches off the couch as the orgasm crashes through you, sudden and brutal. your thighs clamp around his hand, hips jerking, a broken moan ripping from your throat while he keeps rubbing you through it. toji watches your face the entire time, eyes half-lidded, that lazy smirk finally breaking across his mouth as you shake and whimper.
he doesn’t stop until you’re twitching, oversensitive and gasping, weakly pushing at his wrist. only then does he pull his hand out of your shorts, fingers shiny and dripping with you. he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean, slow and deliberate, while you try to catch your breath.
“you were saying?” he asks, voice thick with amusement.
you glare at him, still panting, thighs trembling.
“i still hate you,” you mutter weakly.
toji chuckles and leans in, pressing a rough kiss to your neck.
︵ ೀ mdni. you and shoko always casually made out at parties but that stopped after she started dating suguru, until one night she invites you to join them and you end up as their plaything ( threesome / being used by them )
the parties were always the same.
loud music, dim lights, too much alcohol, and the two of you ending up in some dark corner like it was inevitable. it started with teasing, a smirk from shoko, then her pulling you close by the waist. your lips would crash together—messy, hungry, tasting like cheap vodka and cigarettes.
her hands always found their way under your shirt, fumbling with the clasp of your bra while you gasped into her mouth. she’d squeeze your tits roughly, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they hardened under her touch. you’d moan softly, pressing closer, grinding against her thigh just a little, but it never went further than that.
clothes stayed mostly on. hands wandered, but never below the waist. it was always rushed, sloppy, and over too fast—someone would call shoko’s name or the music would change and you’d both pull away laughing, lips swollen, cheeks flushed.
“just messing around,” shoko would say with that lazy smile, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. but for you… it was never just messing around.
every time her fingers slipped under your bra and pinched your nipple, you ached for more. every time she sucked on your tongue and squeezed your tits like she owned them, you wished she would push you against the wall and actually fuck you. you wanted her hands between your legs, wanted her mouth on your skin, wanted her to take you somewhere private and make you hers for real.
but you never said it. you swallowed it down, smiled like it was nothing, and told yourself it was just fun.
until it wasn’t anymore. because shoko started dating suguru.
it made perfect sense. they looked so good together—the two college heartthrobs. shoko with her effortless cool, cigarette dangling from her lips, pretty eyes and that lazy smile. suguru with his long dark hair, calm confidence, and that beauty that made people stare.
they fit. they looked like they belonged on magazine covers, like the kind of couple everyone secretly envied. when they walked into a room together, heads turned.
and now the corner makeouts stopped completely. now she sits in his lap at parties, kissing him slow and deep while his hands rest on her hips. you watch from the side, nursing your drink, trying to ignore the sharp twist in your chest every time she moans softly against his mouth.
you told yourself it didn’t bother you. you smiled when they told you they were official. you even teased them about how disgustingly cute they looked together.
but tonight, the jealousy feels like a live wire under your skin.
you’re all back at suguru’s apartment after another loud night out. the lights are low, music still playing softly from someone’s phone. you’re sitting on the couch with too sugary drink in your hand, watching them.
shoko is straddling suguru’s lap, kissing him slow and deep, the kind of kiss that makes everything else disappear. her fingers are tangled in his long dark hair, hips rolling slowly against him as their tongues slide together wetly. every soft sound she makes hits you like a punch.
you look away, cheeks burning, but your eyes keep drifting back. you remember how her hands felt on your chest, how she used to pinch and knead your tits until you were panting. but now those hands are on him.
shoko eventually pulls back for air, lips shiny and swollen. her eyes find you across the couch and she tilts her head, studying your face.
“you’ve been quiet,” she says. “jealous?”
you shrug, trying to play it cool. “no, i’m not jealous.”
shoko lets out a soft laugh. she leans back against suguru’s chest, still straddling him, and looks at you with that familiar lazy smirk.
“liar. i know you.”
before you can protest, she slides off suguru’s lap and crawls over to you on the couch. her hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip. without another word, she leans in and kisses you.
it’s slow at first, almost teasing, her lips soft and warm against yours. then she deepens it, tongue slipping into your mouth like she’s reminding you exactly what you’ve been missing. you can’t help the small sound that escapes you when she sucks lightly on your tongue.
when she finally pulls back just enough to speak, her breath fans over your wet lips.
“you missed it, didn’t you?” she murmurs. her fingers slide into your hair, tugging gently. “missed the way i kiss you.” she nips at your bottom lip. “my hands on you… the way we used to mess around at parties?
you feel your face heat up, embarrassment and want mixing together. shoko smiles against your mouth, clearly enjoying how flustered you are. suguru watches the two of you from the other side of the couch, a small amused smile playing on his lips.
“it’s okay,” she whispers, kissing you again, slower this time. “you don’t have to lie to me, baby.”
the kiss quickly turns deeper. shoko’s tongue slides against yours, while her hand slips under your shirt, palm warm against your stomach, and you shiver. she smiles into the kiss when she feels it.
without breaking away, shoko reaches for the hem of her own shirt and tugs it off. her bra is simple and black, but it looks perfect on her. she tosses the shirt aside and immediately returns to your mouth, kissing you harder now, more eager.
“your turn,” she murmurs against your lips.
her fingers are gentle but sure as she pulls your shirt up and over your head. the cool air hits your skin, making you feel exposed, but shoko doesn’t let you dwell on it. she kisses you again, deeper, while her hands roam over your bare waist and up to your chest. she squeezes your breasts through your bra, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they harden.
“so pretty,” she breathes. “always so pretty for me.”
you’re both breathing heavier when shoko pulls back just enough to look at suguru.
“she can join, right?” she asks, voice husky but soft.
suguru’s eyes go dark and he nods once. “yeah. come here.”
shoko grins and takes your hand, guiding you both toward him. suguru shifts on the couch, spreading his legs wider so there’s room. he pulls shoko onto his lap first, then gently tugs you until you’re straddling one of his thighs, facing shoko.
now you’re both on suguru’s lap—chest to chest, knees bracketing his thick thighs. shoko doesn’t waste time. she cups your face and kisses you again. your breasts press together, only thin fabric separating you. you can feel the heat of suguru’s body beside you, his hands resting lightly on both your waists.
suguru’s his gaze is heavy as shoko’s tongue slides into your mouth and you moan softly. then his hands start moving—one palm strokes up shoko’s back while the other caresses your side, thumb brushing just under your breast.
shoko breaks the kiss only to trail her lips along your jaw, then down to your neck. you tilt your head, gasping when she sucks lightly on your neck. suguru’s hand slides higher, finally cupping your breast from behind, squeezing gently while shoko kisses lower.
“look at you two,” suguru murmurs. “so fucking pretty together.”
his other hand rests on shoko’s hip, encouraging her as she rocks against his thigh. you’re both breathing hard, lips swollen, skin flushed. shoko pulls you back into another deep kiss, tongues tangling messily while suguru’s hands explore—one kneading your breast, the other sliding down shoko’s spine.
you feel surrounded. wanted. the jealousy from earlier slowly melts into something hotter, sweeter.
shoko smiles against your mouth and whispers, “missed you so much, baby.”
while you’re still lost in shoko’s kiss, suguru leans closer. his lips find the side of your neck. he presses open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, tongue tracing lightly as he sucks gentle marks. you whimper into shoko’s mouth, their caresses making your head spin.
suguru kisses down your shoulder, then hooks his fingers into the front of your bra and tugs it down, freeing your breasts. before you can even gasp, his hot mouth closes around your nipple.
you moan loudly, back arching instinctively. suguru sucks gently at first, then harder, tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. the wet heat of his mouth combined with the slight scrape of his teeth makes your thighs shake.
shoko finally pulls back from the kiss just enough to look down between you. her eyes darken when she sees suguru’s mouth on your tit.
“fuck, that’s hot,” she breathes.
shoko watches the whole thing with dark, hooded eyes. she slides one hand down your stomach, fingers teasing the waistband of your pants. “can i touch you here?” she asks and when you nod desperately, she doesn’t hesitate.
shoko slips her hand inside your pants. her fingers immediately find how wet you already are, and she lets out a satisfied sound. “fuck… you’re so wet,” she says. “all this just for us?”
her middle finger drags slowly through your folds, gathering wetness before circling your clit with light, teasing strokes. when you twitch against her she kisses you again. shoko smiles against your lips. “so sensitive tonight.”
after a moment, shoko slides one finger lower and pushes it inside you, curling it slowly. you clench around her instantly, hips twitching forward into her hand. she adds a second finger, thrusting them in and out at a steady pace while her thumb keeps rubbing your clit.
“that’s it,” she whispers, kissing the corner of your mouth. “ride my fingers, baby. let us hear how good it feels.” shoko’s pace quickens slightly, fingers curling perfectly against that spot inside you with every thrust while she kisses you again and again, swallowing your moans.
at some point the night blurred into a haze of pleasure. you’re still on suguru’s lap, back pressed to his chest, completely drunk on them both. shoko’s fingers have been inside you for what feels like hours—curling, thrusting, rubbing your clit until you’re shaking and sobbing through another orgasm. every time you think you can’t take any more, suguru’s big hand wraps loosely around your throat, holding you in place while shoko pushes you over the edge again.
you’re their perfect little plaything tonight, and you’ve stopped pretending you want anything else.
when shoko finally pulls her fingers out, you whine at the loss, body twitching. she just smiles and brings her slick fingers to her own mouth to taste you. “she’s ready,” shoko says softly as she looks at suguru.
suguru doesn’t need to be told twice. he shifts you forward on the couch so you’re on your hands and knees, still facing shoko. his large hands grip your hips, pulling your ass back toward him. you hear the sound of his belt and zipper, then feel the blunt, fat head of his cock pressing against your soaked entrance.
shoko watches with amusement, kneeling in front of you on the couch. she takes both of your hands in hers, lacing your fingers together tightly.
“breathe, baby,” she murmurs, thumbs stroking the back of your hands. “let him in.”
suguru pushes forward and the stretch is immediate and intense. his cock is thick—much thicker than shoko’s fingers—and you feel every inch as he slowly sinks into you from behind. your mouth falls open, eyes wide as the burn blooms deep inside you. he’s so big it almost hurts, but the pleasure is hotter.
“fuck… so tight,” suguru groans lowly, voice strained as he bottoms out, hips flush against your ass.
shoko’s smile widens, clearly enjoying the way your face twists. she leans in and kisses your open mouth, swallowing the moan that finally escapes you.
“look at you,” she coos against your lips, still holding your hands. “taking his cock so well. your pretty little mouth falling open like that… so cute.”
suguru starts moving—slow, deep thrusts that rock your entire body forward with every snap of his hips. every time he drives back in, your tits bounce and your breath catches. shoko stays right there, holding both your hands firmly so you have something to anchor yourself to while suguru fucks you from behind.
“that’s it,” shoko whispers, eyes locked on your face. “let him fuck you. rock forward for me, baby… just like that.”
you do exactly what she says, pushing back to meet suguru’s thrusts and rocking forward into shoko’s space with every movement. she keeps watching, mesmerized, occasionally leaning in to kiss you while suguru’s pace gradually turns harder, deeper.
the wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with your moans and suguru’s grunts. shoko never lets go of your hands, squeezing them tighter every time suguru hits that perfect spot inside you and makes your eyes roll back.
“good girl,” suguru growls from behind, one hand sliding up to grip your hair gently. “taking me so fucking well.”
shoko laughs softly, pressing another kiss to your parted lips. “keep moaning like that,” she teases. “i could watch you get fucked by him all night.”
after a while, suguru slows his thrusts and pulls out with a wet sound. you whine at the sudden emptiness, but he’s already manhandling you gently, turning you around to face him. “come here.” he sits back on the couch and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him, chest to chest. “ride me.”
you’re so drunk on pleasure that you barely register how quickly you obey. your hands brace on his broad shoulders as you sink down onto his thick cock again. the stretch is still intense, but your body is so wet and used that he slides in easier this time.
shoko settles on one of suguru’s thick thighs so she’s pressed flush against your back. her bare breasts are hot against your skin, nipples hard as they brush along your spine. one of her arms wraps around your waist while her other hand slides down between your bodies.
“keep riding him, baby,” she whispers right against your ear. “let me feel you.”
you start moving—slow, shaky rolls of your hips as you ride suguru’s cock. every time you sink down, he groans deeply, hands gripping your thighs to help guide you. shoko’s fingers find your clit from behind, rubbing slick circles while she grinds herself against suguru’s thigh, her soaked pussy sliding wetly over his skin.
shoko’s warm breasts press tighter against your back with every roll of her hips. her breath is hot on your neck as she kisses and bites gently along your shoulder. her fingers never stop teasing your clit, occasionally dipping lower to feel where suguru’s thick cock stretches you open.
you’re completely drunk on them. your mind has gone hazy, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as soft, helpless moans keep falling from your mouth. you barely register anything except the heat, the stretch, and the constant pleasure.
“so good,” suguru groans. his hands squeeze your hips, helping you bounce on him harder. “look at you… taking my cock so deep.”
shoko hums in agreement, pressing her chest firmer against your back as she grinds faster on his thigh. her fingers move quicker on your clit, slick sounds filling the air.
“she’s so out of it,” shoko laughs softly, kissing the back of your neck. “completely drunk on us. aren’t you, baby? just letting us use this pretty body however we like.”
you can only whimper in response, head falling back against shoko’s shoulder as you keep riding suguru.
“tell us how you like it, baby,” suguru says. “you want it deeper? faster?”
shoko leans in closer, lips brushing your ear from behind. “yeah… use your words,” she teases softly. “tell us what feels good. you want me to keep playing with your pretty clit while you ride his cock?”
you try to answer.
your mouth opens, but only a soft, hazy whimper comes out. your mind is too foggy, body too overwhelmed with pleasure. every nerve is sparking, your thoughts melted into nothing but heat and the feeling of being used so perfectly between them. you can barely form a single coherent word.
“i… ah— i…” is all you manage.
shoko lets out a quiet, fond laugh against your neck. “aww, listen to her,” she coos, clearly amused by how gone you are. “can’t even speak anymore. so cute.”
she slides her free hand up to cup your jaw, gently turning your face toward her. she kisses you again. her tongue slips into your mouth, tasting every helpless little sound you make while suguru keeps rocking you steadily on his cock.
“it’s okay, baby,” she whispers, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “you don’t have to say anything. we already know exactly what you need.”
suguru leans forward to kiss your collarbone, then looks up at shoko with dark eyes. “she’s clenching so hard around me. keep touching her. i want to feel her cum on my cock.”
shoko smiles against your skin and circles your clit faster. “don’t worry,” she purrs, voice dripping with heat. “we’re nowhere near done with her yet.”
sometime later, you’re completely spent.
your body has gone limp, limbs heavy and trembling from the endless waves of pleasure. you’ve lost count of how many times they made you cum—on suguru’s cock, on shoko’s fingers, between their mouths and hands. every inch of you feels used, warm, and satisfied in the best kind of way.
you barely have the strength to keep your eyes open anymore.
shoko notices first. she presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, brushing damp strands of hair away from your face. “you’re done, huh?” she whispers fondly, voice still a little breathless. “poor baby… we wore you out.”
you manage a tiny, hazy nod, eyes already fluttering shut. the last thing you feel is shoko carefully pulling you down onto the couch, laying you on your side so you’re comfortable. she tucks a blanket over your naked body.
“sleep. we’ve got you.”
your eyelids grow heavier. the world starts to fade. through the sleepy haze, you catch the soft sounds beside you.
shoko lets out a quiet moan as suguru pulls her closer. you barely manage to crack your eyes open just enough to see them. suguru has shoko on her back right next to you, his large body covering hers. he’s kissing her deeply, while he pushes inside her.
shoko’s back arches, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she wraps her legs around his waist. “suguru…”
he groans low in his throat, hips starting to move in deep, steady strokes. the wet sound of skin meeting skin fills the quiet room again. suguru’s hand slides up to cup shoko’s breast, thumb brushing over her nipple as he fucks her right there beside you.
shoko turns her head slightly, eyes half-lidded, and looks at your sleepy face. even as suguru thrusts into her, she reaches out and gently laces her fingers with yours, holding your hand while she gets fucked.
“goodnight, baby,” she whispers to you, voice sweet even as it breaks into a moan.
you can’t answer anymore. your eyes finally slip shut completely, the last image burned gently into your mind: suguru’s broad back moving over shoko, her hand warm in yours, the quiet sounds of them making love right beside you.
it feels strangely comforting.
you fall asleep like that—exhausted, satisfied, and wrapped in the soft afterglow of being theirs, even if only for tonight. the steady rhythm of suguru’s hips and shoko’s breathy moans lull you deeper into sleep, their presence safe beside you.
Note: The clit box/pussy portal concept is one I’ve seen floating around the internet since forever and I think it’s sooooo hot so here’s my take on it teehee
He’d finally done it.
His fingers trailed over the box's cool, seamless edges. A marvel of engineering, deceptively simple in its sleek titanium casing. No one would guess what lived inside. Who lived inside.
Because there, nestled in precision, pulsed a perfect replica of her pussy. Every fold, every nerve ending, every flush of blood beneath soft skin, atomically identical. Synapses wired directly to hers. A closed loop: every stroke, every touch, every cruel pinch he inflicted here would ripple through her body, her real body, with merciless accuracy.
And the inverse? Even sweeter. Every desperate clench of her cunt as she helplessly responded to his touch would answer here, in his hands, twitching like the pathetic, obedient thing it now was.
No consent. No escape. Just ownership, distilled into a box small enough to fit in his palm.
His thumb brushed the damp seam of the replica’s slit, so warm, so alive, and miles away, her breath hitched.
A grin split his face.
Time to play.
—
She’s getting ready for bed. Wearing just a big t-shirt and panties, freshly showered and sleepy. He knows because he installed cameras and microphones all throughout her apartment months ago. There isn’t a single thing she can do without him knowing.
He sits in front of his computer, multiple camera angles feeding him live video and audio. He opens the box with careful hands, her pretty pussy nestled within the lining. So cute, untouched, unsuspecting.
His fingers trail idly along the smooth, pliant flesh, and he watches as she flinches, eyes wide, glancing down at herself. He smiles.
And so it begins.
He doesn’t waste any time, his fingers moving to spread her pussy lips before he leans down and pulls her clit into his mouth, tongue moving in quick movements as he alternates between sucking and licking. He watches the way her body shuts down, shock and pleasure flooding her system as she collapses onto her bed.
He doesn’t care to give her any time to recover. Instead, he pulls his mouth away to replace his tongue with his fingers, rubbing her spit-slicked skin in tight, cruel circles, taking in the way her breath comes in fast gasps as she tries to press her legs together, confusion, fear, panic written all over her face.
It doesn’t take long before her clit is a trembling, hypersensitive nub between his fingers, swollen and darkened from relentless attention. He runs the pad of his thumb over it in slow, agonizing circles, feeling the way it pulses under his touch, tiny convulsions of pleading nerves that only make him smirk. On the screen, her legs jerk, her hips rising off the bed as her body betrays her, craving more even as her mind doesn’t undestand.
She’s a puppet, and he controls every string. He squeezes the delicate bud between his fingertips, rolling it like a toy, listening to the wet, obscene slickness of her cunt in the box mirroring the mess between her thighs on-screen. He can see the wet patch on her panties, the outline of her pretty pussy clear behind the soaked fabric.
Her clit pulses under his fingers, a trembling, engorged little nub, dark as a bruise, so swollen now that it protrudes obscenely from her slick, puffy folds. He squeezes it, watching the thin skin stretch taut, watching it throb in frantic protest.
He traces the swollen bud with his fingertip, circling slow, barely a touch, just to watch it suffer. It’s obscene how responsive she is, the little nub twitching under his attention, glistening with slick. He presses down harder, rubbing in tight little spirals, the flesh trembling beneath his fingers like a caged animal.
He lets his fingers drag lower, spreading the plush folds wide, so wet, dripping for him, even as her fists clench in the sheets. His other hand strokes her clit lazily, coaxing her higher, watching the way her hips twitch with every circling press.
He scrapes a fingernail slowly along the underside of her clit, savoring the way it quivers. Her folds flutter, her hole clenching around nothing, as if begging for something to fill her.
He indulges her, thrusting two fingers deep into the slick imitation of her pussy, relishing how the tight walls convulse.
He leans in, pressing his tongue flat against the throbbing nub in his hands, lapping at it with slow, wet drags. The way it jerks under the heat of his mouth, god, it’s beautiful. On-screen, her back arches. A broken moan tangles in her throat.
His fingers move, fucking her in deep, lazy pumps, her inner walls clenching around nothing, trying to hold onto something, anything, to anchor against the pleasure.
She rocks into it, chasing his invisible touch, teetering over the edge.
So he pulls away.
Her entire body jerks in protest because she doesn’t get to cum yet.
His fingertips trace the very edges of her clit, never touching where she needs it most, just ghosting over the hypersensitive nerves until her entire body writhes. She claws at the sheets, her thighs twitching open despite herself, her pussy clenching around nothing, her clit begging for friction.
Then, finally, he gives in, but not the way she wants. He presses the flat of his thumb down on the engorged nub, grinding in slow, mind-numbing circles, watching on the screen as her back arches wildly.
He increases the pressure just a fraction, just enough to keep her teetering. Her cunt is dripping, her clit a dark, throbbing bead under his control, her body no longer hers, just a thing, just a wet little hole responding on command.
When her thighs start to shake, when her voice breaks into a sob, he stops, watching the hope fade from her eyes.
He pulls out a fine-tipped vibrator, pressing it directly against the bundle of nerves, dialing it just under the threshold of orgasm.
A keening noise claws up her throat as the pleasure builds and builds, never cresting, never breaking, just holding her there on the edge, her cunt clenching around nothing, desperate for the release she won’t get.
He watches her writhe, soaked in sweat and shame, her body no longer her own.
And through it all, her clit pulses in his grasp, a tiny, twitching heart of suffering and ecstasy.
He can see her chest heaving from her panting breaths, so close to what she wants. And so he stops, pulling the vibrator off, watching her helpless pussy twitch and ache.
She lets out a wail, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as desperation gnaws a deep ache inside of her.
He watches the screen, half-amused, half-annoyed, as her fingers hesitantly drift between her thighs. She wants to cum and she thinks she can do it herself.
A mistake.
The moment her fingertips brush her swollen clit, his grip tightens on the replica in his hands, his thumb pressing down just enough to make her freeze.
No, no, sweet thing. That’s against the rules.
He gives her clit a harsh flick and watches as a scream rips out of her throat. But that isn’t enough to deter her, because moments after, her fingers are back on her clit, rubbing like a filthy, disobedient whore.
He sucks in an annoyed breath and picks up a thin electric rod. Without hesitating, he presses the tip against her clit and shocks her, the zapping sound ripping through the air.
A sharp, stinging jolt shoots through the tiny bundle of nerves in his palm, and oh, the way it jerks. The way she jerks, a strangled cry tearing from her lips as she yanks her hand away, thighs slamming together as if she can protect herself.
But protection isn’t an option anymore. Not from him.
He lets her pant, lets her shake, lets her think it might be over.
And then, with slow, deliberate cruelty, he pinches the clit between two fingers, holding it still before driving the electric rod against it, letting it fire off several zaps in quick succession.
She screams. The clit in his box convulses, the trapped flesh trembling violently.
He smiles.
“You’ll learn,” he murmurs, flicking the little nub again, hard. She yelps, back arching off the bed.
Her fingers stay far away now, knuckles white as she grips the sheets instead, her body trembling under his unseen control.
Good.
He drags his thumb over the sopping slit in the box, gathering slick before lazily circling the clit again, just enough to tease. Just enough to make her squirm on screen.
She bites her lip, thighs pressing together in futile resistance.
He reaches for the tiny silver clamp and arranged it around her flesh, watching it bite down on her swollen clit, the sensitive tissue protesting with every pulse. Tears well up in her eyes on the screen. She shakes her head, whispering no, no, no, but there is no mercy for her.
He twists the clamp tighter around her tortured clit, delighting as the swollen flesh bulges around the metal teeth, darkening to a lurid purple. Her whole pussy quivers in response, her hole weeping, her inner muscles spasming in confused, helpless pleasure.
He grabs the vibrator again, the toy humming to life against the clamped bud, the frequency so precise it makes her flesh flutter, muscles contracting helplessly. Her back arches off the bed, a broken noise wrenching from her throat as pleasure spikes, sharp, unbearable, inescapable. Her fingers scrabble at the sheets, hips bucking in stuttering little jerks as the toy torments the hypersensitive nerve cluster.
Drool slicks her lower lip as she pants, eyes unfocused. He watches with satisfaction as her cunt pulses around nothing, slickness dripping from her in obscene rivulets. The vibrator buzzes harder, and a broken sob tears from her, sounds of desperation spilling out of her mouth.
He adjusts the clamp a fraction tighter, then twists it just to hear her scream. The vibrator rolls slow, merciless circles, pinning her clit ruthlessly. Every nerve in her body is lit up, pleasure crackling through her in waves that crest but never break. She is no longer a woman, just a thing shaking apart between his fingers, reduced to quivering flesh and involuntary spasms.
Every pulse of the vibrator sends shockwaves through her, stomach clenching, toes curling, breath coming in jagged little gasps. But he keeps it steady, never increasing the intensity, never allowing her the relief of building toward release.
Just edging. Just an endless, torturous plateau, where she can feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter inside her but never tipping over.
"P-Please—" she whimpers, her voice thin and broken, nails digging into her own thighs as if that could ground her.
He tsks, amused. As if she has any right to beg.
With deliberate cruelty, he turns the vibrator up, just one notch.
The effect is immediate. Her stomach muscles quiver violently, her legs splaying wider in helpless invitation, her mouth dropping open in a soundless scream. The clamp keeps her clit swollen and aching, the vibrator sending sharp, concentrated pulses straight into the overstimulated nerve bundle.
And still, she doesn’t cum.
Because he won’t let her.
Not until he decides she’s suffered enough.
—
The moment finally comes, her body, strained to its absolute limit, teetering on the razor’s edge of orgasm. He can feel it in the way her clit pulses in the box, a desperate, throbbing little heartbeat between his fingers. He has denied her all night, teased her, shocked her, clamped her, ruined her, but now, at last, he will let her break.
He pulls the clamp off cruelly, watching her clit swell as blood comes rushing back, flooding her already raw nerves with new torment. Her clit trembles, swollen so fat it sticks out from between her lips, begging for mercy. He doesn’t give her a chance to recover before he presses the vibrating toy directly onto her swollen clit, cranked to the highest setting.
On screen, her entire body snaps taut, a silent scream stretching her lips wide.
"That’s it," he murmurs, watching her cunt flutter around nothing, soaking the sheets beneath her. "Cum for me."
And she does.
Hard.
Her back arches violently, her thighs locking around the empty air as her orgasm rips through her. The clit in his hands convulses, pussy spilling slick in thick pulses under his touch. He grins, keeping the vibrator pressed firm, not letting up, determined to wring every last ounce of pleasure from her until it hurts.
She thrashes, her moans turning hoarse, painfully overstimulated, but he doesn’t stop.
He laughs, low and dark.
"You think you're done?" His fingers dig into her folds, spreading them open, exposing her glistening, twitching hole to the unrelenting buzz of the vibrator. "I’m just getting started."
Another orgasm wrenches out of her, messy and uncontrollable, her cunt contracting in helpless spasms as tears streak down her face.
Her legs jerk on the screen, thighs slick with sweat and arousal, heels digging into the mattress as if she could escape the pleasure eating her alive. But she can't. Every pulse of the toy sends electric jolts straight through her clit, her pussy fluttering around empty air, dripping onto the sheets beneath her.
He smirks, circling the vibrating tip harder against the swollen bud, watching the way her stomach muscles clench, another orgasm building whether she wants it or not.
Then, with deliberate cruelty, he pulls out a vibrating dildo and presses it straight into the tight, dripping hole in the box.
Her scream splits the air, her spine bowing off the bed, fingers clawing at nothing as the thick intrusion fills her in the exact spot designed to destroy her. The moment he turns it on, her entire body bucks like a live wire, the deep, rumbling vibrations rocking through her core, pressing mercilessly against the swollen inner wall of her cunt.
The clit vibrator doesn’t stop, buzzing against her abused nub while the deeper toy punishes her g-spot, sending shocks of sensation radiating through her lower belly.
She wails, thighs slamming together in a desperate, futile attempt to stop the pleasure, but it’s impossible, her hips twitch in tiny, involuntary thrusts, her cunt clamping down around the thick vibrator like it’s trying to milk it.
Her clit jumps under the relentless onslaught, pulsing in time with the brutal vibrations, the dark, swollen flesh quivering violently under his treatment. The dildo shifts inside her, the angle just right to send another bone-deep spasm tearing through her, her back arching so sharply it looks like she’ll snap.
He grinds the vibrator deeper, angling it so the thick, ribbed tip digs ruthlessly into the spongy spot inside her, the pressure unbearable. Every thrum of the toy sends gushes of slick spilling from her hole, her pussy clenching in erratic, overstimulated spasms, not an orgasm, not anymore, just her body breaking from the relentless pleasure.
Her clit is engorged, purpling from the abuse, twitching against the buzzing toy like a dying thing, her entire pussy quivering in time with it.
And still, he doesn’t stop.
He increases the speed, the dildo drilling into her sensitive walls, the clit toy vibrating so fast it blurs, her entire body convulsing like a puppet yanked on its strings.
Another scream rips out of her, her hips jacking up off the bed, her cunt flooding the sheets as the forced pleasure tears another orgasm out of her, violent and uncontrollable. Her muscles lock, her fists slamming into the mattress as she cums, hard, messy, shameless, her hole pulsing around the vibrator, her clit throbbing in his grip like a second heartbeat.
But it’s not a release.
It’s torture.
Her eyes roll back, her moans turning to sobs as her body betrays her, cumming again, and again, her overstimulated nerves alight with agony and ecstasy.
She is nothing now.
Just a wet, trembling hole, a toy, a broken thing locked inside a box, bleeding pleasure at his command.
And he laughs, pressing down harder, watching her break.
The mistress of the castle who loves "disciplining" her shy maid, dressed in nothing but a robe.
Complaining that she, supposedly, did a bad job. The shy maid blushing at the *implication* before she's whisked off to her mistress's bed and restrained, her ankles cuffed to each side of the headboard and completely exposing her.
The entire time looking away from her captor and meekly stuttering half-hearted protests.
She's fully clothed and yet... "Oops" the *accidental* snap of scissors against the flimsy little strings of her underwear.
"Guess I'll add it to your paycheck. Oh, what's this?"
Her mistress revealing that stiff, stiff feather and trailing it around her pussy lips, driving her to giggly laughter. Coming closer and closer, and unloading accusation after accusation with her mouth in such *intimate* proximity, lowering underneath her skirt.
This is so embarassing, to be touched so softly and forced to laugh. Her cheeks already red from the skimpiness of her captor, why is she only wearing a robe? This is unprofessional, so distrac-
Suddenly. each venomous word is interrupted by an invasion, a kiss from her lips, a lashing from her tongue. Her own lips wetting her prisoner's, the feather sweeping it all clean.
The poor maid, having to take such slander, losing her mind to the sexually charged discipline she was being taught.
Gently pulling her lips apart, the alternating torture of the tongue entering and licking her *sooo gooddd* with the feather exploring her ticklish insides.
"How many *lick* times must I *lick* teach you *lick* this lesson? This is *brush* how you *brush* clean *brush*"
"Or are you *lick* enjoying this?
She knows well of this game between them. But these words, they always get her. Always expose her.
Her mistress's tongue is immediately *drenched*
She's too shy to ask for it, and even say it outright. But she *loves* this arrangement of theirs.
Placing the feather right besides her needy, swollen clit, she starts gently *sawing* it. The maid EXPLODES in laughter, gagged by her own ticklishness.
A merciful, manipulative way the mistress uses to preserve her partner in crime's dignity, before she ends this little play by closing her warm, wet lips around the maid's swollen pussy, slides her tongue inside and...
Overloads the girl's senses, *bursting* all over her tongue and lips in a ticklegasm, lightly continuing past the point of orgasm before letting go.
Letting her exhausted body rest safely on the bed after uncuffing her, she gently, tenderly embraces the ticklish maid, planting a few kisses on her forehead.
"Now, I *smooch* hope *smooch* you learned *smooch* your lesson. I hoooopee"
Flashing a knowing look that immediately causes her to blush again.
Note✒: no gender specified, gn! or FtM friendly achieving that one request about gn!reader @kodyiskewl
☕︎kofi
Warnings: MDNI, nsfw, squirting, fingering, penetration, sliiight dubcon in ya squeeze
"Fuck I'm sorry babe... I just love seeing you twitch" his voice is surprisingly low, against your skin, he was leaning over you and had been fingering you for the past hour having you gushing over his finger too many times already, holding both your hands up preventing you from pushing him away or escaping his grasp.
You just had to take it, you kind of deserved it tho, you've been bitching at him the whole week cause he wasn't paying attention to ya, so you thought you'd just tease while being a total brat. Well, guess what? This made him furious, and now this was his revenge.
At first, you were clueless, he just started pleasuring you, and you thought it was gonna be a peaceful fuck. But after the fourth time, your legs were twitching badly, as he abused your sweet spot so much so damn much, and he was enjoying it.
"Where's all that mouth now? Huh" he whispers to your ear, pumping his fingers and curling them just right, his hand gripping your wrists while you just whimper in response. Pleading him to stop, it was too much, even tho fluids still kept leaking out of you. "S-stop... please"
"Oh yeah? You didn't stop bothering me even tho I asked during the whole week baby" he growls, as you softly cried out "you can take it. I know" he murmurs kissing your temple, while he kept curling his finger just right causing your body to arch, as you felt another orgasm approaching fast, saliva dripping down your chin.
You felt his hardening cock against your thighs, he freed your wrists, hand groping your hips and pulling you into his lap, as he kept plunging his fingers into you. The angle changed briefly but it triggered your orgasm right away.
He pulled your chin to the side kissing you fiercely, you kissed back teeth clashing and tongue swirling together. Yout feet curled as he slightly slowed down, grinding his hand towards you. He pulled his finger out which made you exhale as the torture stopped.
Little did you know he was about to slide his whole cock inside you. He peppered your face with kisses "just a little more" as soon as his shaft stretched your walls you cried out, a couple of thrusts where enough make you squirt. All over his lap, trembling and tears wetting your cheek you started pleading again "I'm sorry— August-"
He reached for your tears and wiped them kissing your cheeks "Aw baby...I'm right there" he murmurs, now his movements are softer. In no time he pulled out spilling all over you, both your thighs drenched with each other's juices.
"You're lucky I'm patient enough with you." He whispers kissing your eyelids and pulling you closer. Well you still find it hot when he was angry.
Having a man tie you down.. you can’t move… legs wide open.. your eyes wide in panic as he circles you… like prey…
He leans down… take his fingers and spread your pussy open as wide a he can.. looking at it and hearing him say “awww what a pretty little pussy… mmm I can’t wait to torture it with so muuuch pleasure you cry… I wanna make you afraid to cum again.. oh this will be so much fun…”
Him laughing and then you hear an excited gasp from him and he says again “uh ohh.. look what i found.. a cute little twitchy clitty… aww poor little slut.. this clit of yours is going to become the most sensitive little clitty in the world.. aren’t you excited?” He looks up.. eye so sadistic you know no amount of begging will save you…
“Aww crying and whimpering already princess? We haven’t even started! “ he laughs… dipping his head down.. he gets sooo close you can feel his breath on your.. it makes you twitch.. he laughs more..
He taunts “better run… common.. common hurry.. if you don’t run I’m gonna force you to cum your little brains out for hours and hours… hurry.! Oh no.! Here comes my fingers!” You struggle! You whimper you beg.! But you can’t move. He made it so you can’t do anything but wiggle! Fear in your eyes as the anticipation makes you drip… he sees it.. the wetness dripping out of you.. he smirks and suddenly rams his fingers into you “uh oh… got you…” his fingers digging in! Faster.. faster.. he doesn’t show any mercy… he offers a deal..
“Aww poor baby listen to those wet sounds! I’ll tell you what.. if you can keep from cumming for just 5little minutes.. I’ll untie you… yea? Yea? You can do it right!? Even if I…” he suddenly attacks your clit while his fingers keep going “uh ohh.! Hold it in! Oh no princess don’t cum! If you cum this won’t end until you’ve cum at Least a hundred times! Common! Hold it!! Uh oh!!! Hold it in!”
You scream and shake .. he won’t stop.! He keeps goin.. your g spot.. your clit.. you clench your jaw.. but it’s too good and he knows it!l.. he knows you can’t resist.. your hips wiggle as much as they can “uuhhh oohhh here she comes… poor little baby can’t hold it! Don’t do it.! Don’t cum..! I’ll punish your little nipple next if you cum! Uh oh!!”
You squirt so hard.. you lost… but he hasn’t stopped his fingers… he keeps going. He laughs… wicked and deep and says “poor little baby…. You loose….now….time for orgasm hell..”
Note: The clit box/pussy portal concept is one I’ve seen floating around the internet since forever and I think it’s sooooo hot so here’s my take on it teehee
He’d finally done it.
His fingers trailed over the box's cool, seamless edges. A marvel of engineering, deceptively simple in its sleek titanium casing. No one would guess what lived inside. Who lived inside.
Because there, nestled in precision, pulsed a perfect replica of her pussy. Every fold, every nerve ending, every flush of blood beneath soft skin, atomically identical. Synapses wired directly to hers. A closed loop: every stroke, every touch, every cruel pinch he inflicted here would ripple through her body, her real body, with merciless accuracy.
And the inverse? Even sweeter. Every desperate clench of her cunt as she helplessly responded to his touch would answer here, in his hands, twitching like the pathetic, obedient thing it now was.
No consent. No escape. Just ownership, distilled into a box small enough to fit in his palm.
His thumb brushed the damp seam of the replica’s slit, so warm, so alive, and miles away, her breath hitched.
A grin split his face.
Time to play.
—
She’s getting ready for bed. Wearing just a big t-shirt and panties, freshly showered and sleepy. He knows because he installed cameras and microphones all throughout her apartment months ago. There isn’t a single thing she can do without him knowing.
He sits in front of his computer, multiple camera angles feeding him live video and audio. He opens the box with careful hands, her pretty pussy nestled within the lining. So cute, untouched, unsuspecting.
His fingers trail idly along the smooth, pliant flesh, and he watches as she flinches, eyes wide, glancing down at herself. He smiles.
And so it begins.
He doesn’t waste any time, his fingers moving to spread her pussy lips before he leans down and pulls her clit into his mouth, tongue moving in quick movements as he alternates between sucking and licking. He watches the way her body shuts down, shock and pleasure flooding her system as she collapses onto her bed.
He doesn’t care to give her any time to recover. Instead, he pulls his mouth away to replace his tongue with his fingers, rubbing her spit-slicked skin in tight, cruel circles, taking in the way her breath comes in fast gasps as she tries to press her legs together, confusion, fear, panic written all over her face.
It doesn’t take long before her clit is a trembling, hypersensitive nub between his fingers, swollen and darkened from relentless attention. He runs the pad of his thumb over it in slow, agonizing circles, feeling the way it pulses under his touch, tiny convulsions of pleading nerves that only make him smirk. On the screen, her legs jerk, her hips rising off the bed as her body betrays her, craving more even as her mind doesn’t undestand.
She’s a puppet, and he controls every string. He squeezes the delicate bud between his fingertips, rolling it like a toy, listening to the wet, obscene slickness of her cunt in the box mirroring the mess between her thighs on-screen. He can see the wet patch on her panties, the outline of her pretty pussy clear behind the soaked fabric.
Her clit pulses under his fingers, a trembling, engorged little nub, dark as a bruise, so swollen now that it protrudes obscenely from her slick, puffy folds. He squeezes it, watching the thin skin stretch taut, watching it throb in frantic protest.
He traces the swollen bud with his fingertip, circling slow, barely a touch, just to watch it suffer. It’s obscene how responsive she is, the little nub twitching under his attention, glistening with slick. He presses down harder, rubbing in tight little spirals, the flesh trembling beneath his fingers like a caged animal.
He lets his fingers drag lower, spreading the plush folds wide, so wet, dripping for him, even as her fists clench in the sheets. His other hand strokes her clit lazily, coaxing her higher, watching the way her hips twitch with every circling press.
He scrapes a fingernail slowly along the underside of her clit, savoring the way it quivers. Her folds flutter, her hole clenching around nothing, as if begging for something to fill her.
He indulges her, thrusting two fingers deep into the slick imitation of her pussy, relishing how the tight walls convulse.
He leans in, pressing his tongue flat against the throbbing nub in his hands, lapping at it with slow, wet drags. The way it jerks under the heat of his mouth, god, it’s beautiful. On-screen, her back arches. A broken moan tangles in her throat.
His fingers move, fucking her in deep, lazy pumps, her inner walls clenching around nothing, trying to hold onto something, anything, to anchor against the pleasure.
She rocks into it, chasing his invisible touch, teetering over the edge.
So he pulls away.
Her entire body jerks in protest because she doesn’t get to cum yet.
His fingertips trace the very edges of her clit, never touching where she needs it most, just ghosting over the hypersensitive nerves until her entire body writhes. She claws at the sheets, her thighs twitching open despite herself, her pussy clenching around nothing, her clit begging for friction.
Then, finally, he gives in, but not the way she wants. He presses the flat of his thumb down on the engorged nub, grinding in slow, mind-numbing circles, watching on the screen as her back arches wildly.
He increases the pressure just a fraction, just enough to keep her teetering. Her cunt is dripping, her clit a dark, throbbing bead under his control, her body no longer hers, just a thing, just a wet little hole responding on command.
When her thighs start to shake, when her voice breaks into a sob, he stops, watching the hope fade from her eyes.
He pulls out a fine-tipped vibrator, pressing it directly against the bundle of nerves, dialing it just under the threshold of orgasm.
A keening noise claws up her throat as the pleasure builds and builds, never cresting, never breaking, just holding her there on the edge, her cunt clenching around nothing, desperate for the release she won’t get.
He watches her writhe, soaked in sweat and shame, her body no longer her own.
And through it all, her clit pulses in his grasp, a tiny, twitching heart of suffering and ecstasy.
He can see her chest heaving from her panting breaths, so close to what she wants. And so he stops, pulling the vibrator off, watching her helpless pussy twitch and ache.
She lets out a wail, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as desperation gnaws a deep ache inside of her.
He watches the screen, half-amused, half-annoyed, as her fingers hesitantly drift between her thighs. She wants to cum and she thinks she can do it herself.
A mistake.
The moment her fingertips brush her swollen clit, his grip tightens on the replica in his hands, his thumb pressing down just enough to make her freeze.
No, no, sweet thing. That’s against the rules.
He gives her clit a harsh flick and watches as a scream rips out of her throat. But that isn’t enough to deter her, because moments after, her fingers are back on her clit, rubbing like a filthy, disobedient whore.
He sucks in an annoyed breath and picks up a thin electric rod. Without hesitating, he presses the tip against her clit and shocks her, the zapping sound ripping through the air.
A sharp, stinging jolt shoots through the tiny bundle of nerves in his palm, and oh, the way it jerks. The way she jerks, a strangled cry tearing from her lips as she yanks her hand away, thighs slamming together as if she can protect herself.
But protection isn’t an option anymore. Not from him.
He lets her pant, lets her shake, lets her think it might be over.
And then, with slow, deliberate cruelty, he pinches the clit between two fingers, holding it still before driving the electric rod against it, letting it fire off several zaps in quick succession.
She screams. The clit in his box convulses, the trapped flesh trembling violently.
He smiles.
“You’ll learn,” he murmurs, flicking the little nub again, hard. She yelps, back arching off the bed.
Her fingers stay far away now, knuckles white as she grips the sheets instead, her body trembling under his unseen control.
Good.
He drags his thumb over the sopping slit in the box, gathering slick before lazily circling the clit again, just enough to tease. Just enough to make her squirm on screen.
She bites her lip, thighs pressing together in futile resistance.
He reaches for the tiny silver clamp and arranged it around her flesh, watching it bite down on her swollen clit, the sensitive tissue protesting with every pulse. Tears well up in her eyes on the screen. She shakes her head, whispering no, no, no, but there is no mercy for her.
He twists the clamp tighter around her tortured clit, delighting as the swollen flesh bulges around the metal teeth, darkening to a lurid purple. Her whole pussy quivers in response, her hole weeping, her inner muscles spasming in confused, helpless pleasure.
He grabs the vibrator again, the toy humming to life against the clamped bud, the frequency so precise it makes her flesh flutter, muscles contracting helplessly. Her back arches off the bed, a broken noise wrenching from her throat as pleasure spikes, sharp, unbearable, inescapable. Her fingers scrabble at the sheets, hips bucking in stuttering little jerks as the toy torments the hypersensitive nerve cluster.
Drool slicks her lower lip as she pants, eyes unfocused. He watches with satisfaction as her cunt pulses around nothing, slickness dripping from her in obscene rivulets. The vibrator buzzes harder, and a broken sob tears from her, sounds of desperation spilling out of her mouth.
He adjusts the clamp a fraction tighter, then twists it just to hear her scream. The vibrator rolls slow, merciless circles, pinning her clit ruthlessly. Every nerve in her body is lit up, pleasure crackling through her in waves that crest but never break. She is no longer a woman, just a thing shaking apart between his fingers, reduced to quivering flesh and involuntary spasms.
Every pulse of the vibrator sends shockwaves through her, stomach clenching, toes curling, breath coming in jagged little gasps. But he keeps it steady, never increasing the intensity, never allowing her the relief of building toward release.
Just edging. Just an endless, torturous plateau, where she can feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter inside her but never tipping over.
"P-Please—" she whimpers, her voice thin and broken, nails digging into her own thighs as if that could ground her.
He tsks, amused. As if she has any right to beg.
With deliberate cruelty, he turns the vibrator up, just one notch.
The effect is immediate. Her stomach muscles quiver violently, her legs splaying wider in helpless invitation, her mouth dropping open in a soundless scream. The clamp keeps her clit swollen and aching, the vibrator sending sharp, concentrated pulses straight into the overstimulated nerve bundle.
And still, she doesn’t cum.
Because he won’t let her.
Not until he decides she’s suffered enough.
—
The moment finally comes, her body, strained to its absolute limit, teetering on the razor’s edge of orgasm. He can feel it in the way her clit pulses in the box, a desperate, throbbing little heartbeat between his fingers. He has denied her all night, teased her, shocked her, clamped her, ruined her, but now, at last, he will let her break.
He pulls the clamp off cruelly, watching her clit swell as blood comes rushing back, flooding her already raw nerves with new torment. Her clit trembles, swollen so fat it sticks out from between her lips, begging for mercy. He doesn’t give her a chance to recover before he presses the vibrating toy directly onto her swollen clit, cranked to the highest setting.
On screen, her entire body snaps taut, a silent scream stretching her lips wide.
"That’s it," he murmurs, watching her cunt flutter around nothing, soaking the sheets beneath her. "Cum for me."
And she does.
Hard.
Her back arches violently, her thighs locking around the empty air as her orgasm rips through her. The clit in his hands convulses, pussy spilling slick in thick pulses under his touch. He grins, keeping the vibrator pressed firm, not letting up, determined to wring every last ounce of pleasure from her until it hurts.
She thrashes, her moans turning hoarse, painfully overstimulated, but he doesn’t stop.
He laughs, low and dark.
"You think you're done?" His fingers dig into her folds, spreading them open, exposing her glistening, twitching hole to the unrelenting buzz of the vibrator. "I’m just getting started."
Another orgasm wrenches out of her, messy and uncontrollable, her cunt contracting in helpless spasms as tears streak down her face.
Her legs jerk on the screen, thighs slick with sweat and arousal, heels digging into the mattress as if she could escape the pleasure eating her alive. But she can't. Every pulse of the toy sends electric jolts straight through her clit, her pussy fluttering around empty air, dripping onto the sheets beneath her.
He smirks, circling the vibrating tip harder against the swollen bud, watching the way her stomach muscles clench, another orgasm building whether she wants it or not.
Then, with deliberate cruelty, he pulls out a vibrating dildo and presses it straight into the tight, dripping hole in the box.
Her scream splits the air, her spine bowing off the bed, fingers clawing at nothing as the thick intrusion fills her in the exact spot designed to destroy her. The moment he turns it on, her entire body bucks like a live wire, the deep, rumbling vibrations rocking through her core, pressing mercilessly against the swollen inner wall of her cunt.
The clit vibrator doesn’t stop, buzzing against her abused nub while the deeper toy punishes her g-spot, sending shocks of sensation radiating through her lower belly.
She wails, thighs slamming together in a desperate, futile attempt to stop the pleasure, but it’s impossible, her hips twitch in tiny, involuntary thrusts, her cunt clamping down around the thick vibrator like it’s trying to milk it.
Her clit jumps under the relentless onslaught, pulsing in time with the brutal vibrations, the dark, swollen flesh quivering violently under his treatment. The dildo shifts inside her, the angle just right to send another bone-deep spasm tearing through her, her back arching so sharply it looks like she’ll snap.
He grinds the vibrator deeper, angling it so the thick, ribbed tip digs ruthlessly into the spongy spot inside her, the pressure unbearable. Every thrum of the toy sends gushes of slick spilling from her hole, her pussy clenching in erratic, overstimulated spasms, not an orgasm, not anymore, just her body breaking from the relentless pleasure.
Her clit is engorged, purpling from the abuse, twitching against the buzzing toy like a dying thing, her entire pussy quivering in time with it.
And still, he doesn’t stop.
He increases the speed, the dildo drilling into her sensitive walls, the clit toy vibrating so fast it blurs, her entire body convulsing like a puppet yanked on its strings.
Another scream rips out of her, her hips jacking up off the bed, her cunt flooding the sheets as the forced pleasure tears another orgasm out of her, violent and uncontrollable. Her muscles lock, her fists slamming into the mattress as she cums, hard, messy, shameless, her hole pulsing around the vibrator, her clit throbbing in his grip like a second heartbeat.
But it’s not a release.
It’s torture.
Her eyes roll back, her moans turning to sobs as her body betrays her, cumming again, and again, her overstimulated nerves alight with agony and ecstasy.
She is nothing now.
Just a wet, trembling hole, a toy, a broken thing locked inside a box, bleeding pleasure at his command.
And he laughs, pressing down harder, watching her break.
