Cherry Bomb
or: the one where cassie discovers your secret double life
cw: age gap as always (r is in her early 20s, cassie is in her early 40s), prodigy!reader cuz she’s based off of victoria, she’s the closest pitt character to me in age and i love mcvadi so sue me, pornstar!reader, reader makes homemade porn and uploads it on the internet, porn w/ some plot, reader has genital piercings, med student!reader, mentor!cassie, cassie needs to get laid, masturbation, dom!top!cassie, sub!bottom!reader, brat!reader, praise, heavy degradation ig?? idk it’s not that bad to me, filming a sextape, overuse of god/jesus christ even though i’m not a christian and never have been, it’s used blasphemously anyway so, very mild pussy eating (r!receiving), scissoring, slapping (r!receiving), spit (r!receiving), mean dom!cassie, daddy kink, anal (r!receiving), nipple play (r!receiving), edging (r!receiving), use of nipple clamps, use of butt plug, use of vibrator, fem!reader, femme!reader, butch!cassie, use of strap (r!receiving), rough sex, teasing, brat tamer!cassie, slight jealousy, kinda ooc!cassie cuz i was thinking with my pussy not my brain, improper use of medical equipment a little (it’s those damn gloves), cassie grits her teeth a lot sorry, overused the em dash u can pry that from my cold dead hands, i think there’s more i need to add but i forgot, squirting but it’s not explicitly mentioned, ik nothing about medicine or cameras, it’s not a totally accurate portrayal of pornography either i was just horny, reader has implied parental issues, longest piece i’ve written here so far and not proofread cuz i’m tired but i’ll probs go back to edit it if needed, i kinda feel like it got sloppy towards the end
Life’s a bitch. That’s the motto everybody lives by, whether they know it or not.
It was your favourite motto, because it was the truth. Plain and simple. And it spoke to you all the time, especially when your parents decided that cutting you off financially was the best way to punish you for going to a warehouse rave in exchange for failing the shit out of your neurology final.
It wasn’t the end of the world, really. Your professor was kind enough to offer you one, last chance through a make-up test. However, that didn’t make your mother back down from her decision— in fact, it solidified it somehow. Now, you were cut off permanently.
At that moment, you only had one month to get your shit together and find a suitable side hustle, before your rent (which your parents covered from abroad) was due. One month where you were a brooding nightmare to everyone at the PTMC, all snappy with an unbudging scowl. You went through a painful number of job offerings, but nothing was simultaneously flexible and supportive enough. Until a friend of yours introduced you to a friend of a friend—a friend of a friend who specialized in a certain kind of…cinematography.
You didn’t have shit against sex workers of any kind— you just never considered becoming one part-time until that minute in your life. Thinking about it, what was the harm? It was surely better than any other side gig you found online. It payed decently, the woman behind the camera— Misty— expected only 15% of what you made per video, and you were comfortable enough in your own skin to show it off. And if the school found out? They can’t really do anything, can they? You’re in your final year of med school, and this is something completely separate from your academic life. Theoretically, they’d have no right to chastise you or even expel you over this.
The first video was fairly tame. Done in the comfort of your own bedroom, Misty just filmed you doing a seductive striptease with a bunch of self-groping…maybe even a few rubs on your clit and dips of your fingers into your warm hole, but that was it. And you made an easy 300 bucks overnight. It turns out that the genital piercings you impulsively got on your 19th birthday paid off (literally), because they were the main subject of your audience’s adoration.
Of course, fondling yourself later escalated to using toys and masterfully talking dirty to the camera lens (which you definitely needed to tune yourself out for in order to numb the embarrassment). It was all solo work, since you didn’t really have the time between your shifts at the ED to find someone willing to fuck you on camera— Misty would sometimes prop the camera and pound you hard for a video, but she avoided doing that frequently. It was only when your devoted fans got tired of the same old and you needed the big bucks.
Ultimately, what you were doing worked. Your bank account was filling up, your credit score went from mediocre to great…and most importantly, nobody at work knew what you were doing— mainly because you made sure you were uploading strictly on underground porn sites. Even with the limited exposure, the revenue generated from your videos bought you a relatively comfortable life in your tiny apartment, with your bills always paid and the occasional luxury to dine at your favourite sushi place afforded.
You were so confident nobody in your work life would find out— who had the drive to watch porn after a horrifying shift at the PTMC, anyway? Let alone, visit the relatively niche websites you dominated and find you debasing yourself for their viewing pleasure?
Clearly, that was a moment of baffling ignorance on your behalf. Because you were mortifyingly wrong.
There was someone who would— did— find the scantily-clad skeleton in your closet. Someone who has been complaining about their dead and buried sex life for a whole week now.
Dr. Cassandra McKay.
“Shit!”
Thankfully, her hiss of frustration fell on deaf ears. Harrison was fast asleep in his lego-littered room (which she told him to tidy up twice), undoubtedly exhausted after a long evening of shoving his iPad in her face to show her memes she’ll never understand in a million years— not to mention his insistence on pestering her while she cooked up a hearty dinner of spaghetti and meatballs for the both of them. But she wasn’t complaining about him; she loved her son more than anything in this world, and she’s always grateful for every minute she gets to spend with him.
No, she’s irritated because she’s horny.
She’s irritated because she’s been horny for a while, but was never fully aware of said horniness until very recently. So now, at the grown age of 43, she feels like a nymphomaniacal teenager again.
She didn’t even know people her age still felt that way— well, she knew they got riled up, but not this riled up. This was borderline pathetic, even for her.
What her lips just released into the confined space of her bedroom was the result of a failure. A failure to get herself off with her fingers like a normal person. She would’ve used that magic wand that’s been gathering dust for the past year, but she was pretty sure the battery was fried. Her frustration was climbing the ranks with each passing second, until she realized she had no other option but the inevitable.
“Fuck me,” Cassie groaned quietly, grabbing her decade-old laptop from where she left it on the other corner of her queen-sized bed. This was utterly humiliating for her— which was funny because she was the only person in the room right now. But seriously? She had to rely on porn to get off, like some hormonal adolescent? She did not have the physical or mental energy to go out into the streets and find a strip club to relieve herself in…even if she did, she couldn’t risk Harrison waking up to an empty flat (or even worse…).
Well, she’s a grown woman. Any judgments her mind was conjuring up were mere projections of a patriarchal society, right? Here, in the dark of her room, no hawkish eyes or narrow minds can get to her.
McKay sighed, and began to navigate the web for what she needed— it’s what it’s for, no?
God, she hated Pornhub. That site was the breeding ground for too many, male-centered sexual rhetorics. She didn’t even know how anyone could get off to hollow moans and faked orgasms, and don’t even get her started on the themes and categories…
Okay, something else then. She wanted to go wherever the real shit was, something that was authentic enough to be the right outlet. For 15 minutes, Cassie went down a rabbit hole of X-rated URLs…until she ended up on a site named “Erotica”. Bit of a plain name for a pornography website, if you ask her, but whatever. She scrolls through the most popular videos it housed until…
Her breathing pauses for a few seconds as she stared at the glowing screen.
You.
Her med student. Her mentee. The same, young woman she guides through gruesome procedures and writes evaluations for.
Holy shit.
Unlike her ex-husband, Cassie was not a coward. She can hold herself accountable for her thoughts about you. The overwhelming, depraved thoughts that centered you as their lead; they’ve been rampant and unrelenting these past few weeks. Every strut of your body past hers was noted, with her eyes spotlighting the curve of your ass as you walked by. What you wore to work— scrubs and a black undershirt— was not made for the purpose of flattery. Yet somehow, to her, you were the only person who looked objectively hot in them. She would look at your fully-covered tits, and then that would turn into fantasizing about bending you over the triage desk, fucking you senseless with her strap in front of everybody, forcing lewd sounds from your larynx as she debased you in front of an audience full of familiar faces…Jesus, Cassie, she’d berate herself. What the fuck are you doing?
However, it seems she had to look no further now, because that was exactly what you were doing on her screen right now.
Your stunning face, the one she saw everyday and committed to memory like a tortured artist with a muse, was making the most lewd faces at the camera as a symphony of moans and desperate, dirty words was sung by your parted lips. Toned arms kept your upper body supported, acting as pillars behind which your naked, pierced breasts bounced hypnotically to the rhythm of a woman’s consistent thrusts. Cassie couldn’t see the aforementioned woman’s face as it was well out of frame, but what she could see was you getting plowed from behind in mediocre quality, mewls and pleas for “harder” coming out mildly crackly from her speakers.
This was certainly not how she imagined seeing your naked body for the first time.
Your gorgeous, naked body, apparently bedazzled with erogenous piercings. Your nipples, your belly button, your pussy— fuck, your pussy. It was a work of art, decorated with what she recognized were Christina and VCH piercings (she only knew them by name because of her former college friend, who got them done right in front of her very eyes as a drunken dare). A bejeweled mons pubis and an equally sparkly clit glinted as the unknown woman maneuvered you onto your side, lifting your left leg over her shoulder as she continued plunging the strap into your sopping pussy. Cassie wanted to feel livid with envy, she really did…but the visual of your ass jiggling as you fucked yourself back on the silicone dick, eyes rolled back and mouth agape as you arched, was too distracting.
For a moment, she was worried someone leaked this and put it online— until she saw that the account posting it had your cheeky expression as its profile picture, with your name warped into a clever user. Daringly, she clicked on it…only to find a ton more videos of your writhing body, all shot in the same setting. This was intentional. This was your job.
Part of her couldn’t blame you. The yearly cost of med school was that of a resident’s average salary. She didn’t even know you paid your own tuition, always under the assumption that your parents did. But Jesus, of all side hustles…Cassie was not by any means conservative. She respected the shit out of sex workers, and always tipped the strippers extra whenever she went to Purgatory. However, an irrational part of her felt bitter. Why did this have to be how she saw your naked body for the first time? The sounds you make when you have your pussy stuffed, the sinful body language…in every bedroom fantasy she ever had starring you, she was the sole enjoyer of these things. Not your 30 thousand subscribers, indubitably all old men.
And yet, she couldn’t take her eyes off the screen.
She clicked on another video. It was you riding the shit out of a red dildo suctioned securely to the floor of your bedroom, tweaking your pierced nipples and talking lustily to the camera lens.
“Bet you wish this was you, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do,” She found herself whispering, like you were personally reaching beyond the screen and speaking to her. “So fucking much…you don’t even know…”
Your words were followed by another, loud moan as you sank down to the base, your sparkling cunt squelching as it swallowed the phallic object. Whoever was behind the camera moved it closer, giving McKay a better view of your spread thighs and stretching pussy. It was wrong. So, so wrong. If Chad’s a dirtbag for going after a 24-year-old woman, then what does that make her— lusting viscerally over her comparably younger mentee, whom she was twice her senior? The heavy guilt sitting on her shoulders should’ve been sufficient in getting her to delete her tabs and forgetting she ever saw this.
But she couldn’t get enough.
Another one. You being taken from behind again by what looked like the same, no-faced woman, the camera held up in front of a full-length mirror by one hand while the other came down on your ass as you mewled.
”Fuck, it’s so big…”
“I know, baby,” She breathed. Suddenly, it wasn’t a mystery body fucking yours, but hers. “I know…”
Cassie ended up going through half your entire videography, and didn’t realize she had her hand down her sweatpants the entire time until she was leaking all over it in what was her first orgasm in a month. Probably the hardest in a while too, because her head was pleasantly fuzzy and your moans sounded like they were underwater for a good 2 minutes. Jesus, fuck.
She’s never been happier about having stained boxers than she was right now. A disgusting part of her wanted to keep them that way; let her arousal dry into a pale crust on the crotch, keep them as a token of her first sense of real relief in ages. She was almost sad as she tossed them in the laundry basket, staring down as they crumpled miserably onto the surface of the pile.
This wasn’t her doing. This was yours. You and your sexy, fucking (literally) videos. You made her feel like she was 16 in 1999 again, discovering lesbian porn for the first time and eagerly stealing multiple VHS tapes from the adult video store south of her childhood home.
Fuck HR, fuck Chad, and especially fuck her guilt.
She needed to find a way to thank you.
“Dislocated shoulder in North 5!”
“On it!”
You grabbed your chart and began heading towards the trauma bay, nodding towards Dana gratefully. You were in a relatively good mood today, despite the unrelenting chaos of the ER; the video you uploaded a few days ago has earned you a little over a thousand dollars, and you decided you wanted to treat yourself this time and go on an online shopping spree after work (you were always too tired for the mall). On your way to the injured patient, you almost stumbled backwards at the sudden appearance of a body in front of you.
“Shit!” You yelped, then smiled sheepishly when you realized it was none other than your mentor and subject of your dreams at night.
“You goin’ to North 5?” A pair of smirking lips mused.
“Yeah…sorry about that, Dr. McKay. I was in a rush.”
“No need for that at the moment,” She remarked, grinning as she began to walk by your side. “A dislocated shoulder is a cakewalk in comparison to the other cases you had to work on.”
“I guess that’s true,” You mumbled coyly, looking up at her. You saw her assertive gaze flick up and down your body, as if it wanted to penetrate through the layers of PTMC-approved attire you had on…no, that’s just your gutter-marinated brain speaking. There’s no way your direct superior has a thing for you. If she does, she’d never let it happen. Cassie was too…ethical for that. Wasn’t she?
“You coming with?”
“Of course,” She answered. “You’re my med student, after all…have to keep an eye on you.”
My med student. Eye on you.
Oh, you wanted her eyes on you alright.
The patient was a 10-year-old gymnast, who dislocated her shoulder on impact trying to land a back handspring. Her mother was in the cafeteria grabbing her a sandwich, so it was just you and McKay in the room. After injecting the joint space with lidocaine, Cassie gestures for you to come closer, subsequently entrapping you with her body from behind.
“You familiar with the Hennepin technique?” She murmured in your ear. Miraculously, you managed to stay composed as you responded.
“Yeah, sort of…I usually prefer a good Scapular.”
“Lie down, sweetie,” She whispers gently to the child, cautiously helping her rest supinely. For a split second, you imagined her saying these exact words to you as she prepared to dive between your legs. With a deep inhale, you ignored the blooming heat in your lower body, and waited for her instructions.
“So first, bring the affected arm against the chest,” Cassie began, watching as you obeyed her command with the little girl’s arm in your gloved hands. “Flex the elbow to 90 degrees…yep, just like that.”
Focus. Focus. Fucking focus.
“Now, rotate her forearm outward,” She rasped, her hands slithering over yours to guide you. “Until it’s between 70 to 110 degrees…careful, she’s fragile.”
Her breath fans the exposed skin of your neck. Don’t. Don’t think about how it would grace the skin of your pu—
You inhaled sharply, and moved the lanky forearm accordingly.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
Stop. Stop thinking, you piece of shit.
But scolding your brain did nothing to prevent the goosebumps erupting in your arms and neck, as you successfully reduced the joint with your mentor’s guidance. The same guidance that your body liquefied into sticky slick soaking the fabric of your panties.
Maybe you were going insane, but you could’ve sworn she noticed. Even worse, you could’ve sworn she knew what she was doing. Because she was smirking at you cockily now.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” She cooed. “Don’t tell me you’re this shaken up over a closed reduction…” Thankfully, the little girl was too distracted with the fabric of her sling to pay attention to your exchange.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” You managed quietly.
“You sure? You’re usually…bolder.”
bolder?
You were confident in your abilities sure…but ‘bold’ would be a more applicable adjective to someone like Dr. Trinity Santos.
“Wouldn’t say I’m ‘bold’, per se—“
“Oh, you are,” McKay drawled lazily, her arm snaking around your shoulder as she led you out of North 5. “Don’t sellyourself short. Shine, like you always do.”
Okay, this was getting weird.
It felt like she knew something, and was implicitly hinting at it for her own amusement. Bold. Sell. Shine.
You weren’t dense, but you did have a history of overthinking. Even so, what other conclusion could there be? Your stomach was already in your ass before the realization fully hit.
She knew.
Somehow, McKay knew about what you did every saturday night. And the way her eyes gleamed at the sight of your growing clamminess and widened eyes basically confirmed it.
“After your shift ends, meet me in the parking lot. We need to discuss your, uh…evaluation.”
Fuck.
You don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous before.
Hell, you don’t think you’ve even been this nervous when you did your sub-I in psychiatry and dealt with dangerously unstable patients. You could see her in the distance, leaning against her dull, old BMW, emitting clouds of nicotine. With a gulp, you slowly approached her, footsteps against the concrete alerting her to your presence.
“How’s it going, kid?” Cassie mused, freeing the cigarette from her lips as she surveyed you hungrily. “Took you long enough…”
“Sorry, got stuck with the night shift for a few,” You mumbled meekly, looking up at her anxiously. Silence graced the air between you for a few seconds. You were about to start filling it, when she beat you to it.
“So…it’s a weekly ritual,” She muttered between puffs of smoke, confirming your worst fear a second time. “Didn’t take you for that kinda girl, to be honest…you always seemed too wholesome for that shit, being a child prodigy and all that.”
You didn’t even know what to say or do, just continued staring at her like you were at the gallows and she was your executor. Your gaping expression made her snicker softly, stomping the butt of her cigarette into a powder against fine gravel then approaching you with a gleeful glint in her sharp blues.
“Oh, relax, would ya? I’m not telling a soul,” She grinned, looming over you in a way that would’ve been menacing if she wasn’t Cassie McKay. “Not even here to berate you or anything…I respect a working girl. I actually want to thank you.”
That’s when you finally found your voice again.
“Wh- thank me?” You sputtered.
“Yeah, thank you…for doing me a solid,” Cassie stated smoothly. “I’m sure you heard all about my near-extinct sex life, with the way I’ve been complaining about it everyday…I think we’re well past professionalism at this point.”
“…Yeah.”
“Right, well I decided to try and give myself some peace of mind for a change, since I’m not getting laid anytime soon…that’s how I discovered your secret, baby.”
“Really?” You croaked weakly.
“Yes, really. And oh, were you so helpful to me…you have no idea.” She stepped closer to you, and leaned until her lips were on-level with your ear.
“Your videos made me cum so hard, I forgot where I was in the moment,” She whispered hotly. Shit.
You didn’t know what to say, only making a strangled noise from the back of your throat at her confession. You can’t lie and say you never imagined her saying those words to you…you just never imagined it happening. Your face burned as you heard her laugh again.
“My, are you on edge,” She giggled, her calloused palm cupping your waistline. “What happened to all that confidence? All that…self-assurance from your videos? You sure aren’t too shy to talk to your audience…it’s just me, babe.”
“Are you…are you not worried about HR—“
“Fuck HR!” She snapped affirmatively, tugging you closer. “I’m done barring myself from being happy…it’s been too long.” Her demeanor softened at your unreadable expression, and her hand began to stray away from your clothed skin towards the open air. Suddenly, her hands were clammy and there was a growing pit at the bottom of her stomach. What the fuck was she thinking, asking a girl half her age (that she mentors and writes SLOEs for) for a one-night stand? Was she sick in the head? All that “fuck the rules” shit was suddenly thrown out the window.
“Unless you don’t want this at all…and you think I’m being super gross and creepy about this. Jesus, I’m so sorry—“ Hearing her spiral deeper and deeper with guilt after every word, you decided to reassure her by pressing your full lips against hers. You barely gave her enough time to react, before you pulled away with an exhale.
“I never said I wasn’t into cougars, Cassie.”
The car ride to your place was considerably quick— Cassie urged you to go as fast as legally possible. Before you knew it, you were backed up against your door, being kissed breathless by your hot, butchy mentor. Fuck, what did you do in your life to deserve this? Take that, mother.
“Where’s your bedroom?” Cassie breathed, tugging your bottom lip between her teeth. God, she was such a good kisser. You lick into her mouth for a few more seconds, before pulling away wetly and grabbing her by the hand.
“This way.”
Fuck, it was just how it looked in those videos. Warmly lit, a leopard print fleece blanket topping cherry sheets, and a whole wall covered with posters of your favourite bands and artists. She shivered slightly— this was where it all happens.
Cassie doesn’t hesitate to push you down and kiss you again, climbing on top of you as she shoved her tongue through your lips.
“Can’t help it anymore, baby,” She hisses against you, lips descending to the sweet spot below your jaw. “These fucking videos…it’s not the same as having you under me right now.”
You could barely get a breath in as she almost tore through your scrubs and undershirt, leaving you in that black bra you’ve had for years (it’s on its last leg) and a matching pair of panties. She could see the outline of the little barbells around your hardened nipples, and it made her feel lightheaded with lust. Cassie was usually smooth with the women she slept with, but now she was clumsily fiddling with the clasp of your bra and panting like she already went 3 rounds.
When she managed to get it off, she didn’t even give herself a moment to admire— her mouth went straight to your right nipple, licking at the sweaty metal around the sensitive bud eagerly. She already knew what you looked like, ogled you for too long and now she couldn’t waste more time looking; she’s always been told she was a proactive person, after all.
“When’d you get these, hm?” She murmured, sucking the nipple into her mouth and groaning as you mewled. “Tell me, hon.”
“It…it was a dare,” You stammered, bleary eyes watching her drool all over your tits. “For my birthday a few years ago…”
Cassie barked out a laugh at that answer, tonguing at your left nipple now. “Bold, aren’t we?” She tugged the firm skin between her teeth, making you yelp and arch.
“So the slut on camera is your real self, huh?”
Her words made you moan a little too loudly for someone who wasn’t even getting fucked yet. She grinned wolfishly at your reaction, icy eyes digging into your soul.
“So it’s not an act for the audience,” She noted. “You really do get off on being treated like shit.” You couldn’t even deny it. Getting called a slut wasn’t exactly peak degradation, but it did hint at a deeper, more carnal need you had…one that Misty couldn’t fulfill on the rare occasion that she fucked you for the camera.
Your train of thought was rudely interrupted by her ringed fingers clasping your face like a claw machine, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips to pout fishily.
“Use your words,” She demanded, her minty breath now wafting over your lower face. “Tell me I’m right. I haven’t even fucked you dumb yet…know you got some good ones in that genius brain of yours.”
“You’re right…”
She tilted your head further up. “Right about what, sweetheart?”
You suppressed a groan as she jeered, and decided to pack your pride in a suitcase and toss it in a river— as you do every Saturday night.
“…I like being treated like shit.”
“Awwh, I know you do,” She cooed tauntingly, shaking your head from side to side before letting go of your face. To your surprise (and delight), she proceeded to spit on your soft tits, and slap the delicate skin enough to cause some mild redness. You found yourself whimpering at the pleasant sting, and you grabbed her wrist before her hand could begin tearing into your panties.
“Wait— do that again.”
Cassie paused, then chuckled knowingly, scoffing at your pleading expression.
“Is this how you ask, baby?” She tutted, groping your supple flesh and thumbing at your bejeweled nipples. “Even dirty whores have to ask politely, y’know…” You would’ve never guessed a few hours ago that McKay even had those words in her functioning vocabulary; you were always under the impression that she was ruled by her work ethic. Maybe you were wrong. Either way, you were now jumping at the chance to debase yourself for her viewing pleasure, no one else’s.
“Please, Cass…please spit on me, slap me— fuck, treat me like shit, please,” You rambled beggarly. “Be mean to me, do anything you want to me, please—“
She cut you off with a firm slap to your left cheek, forcing your face to the right for a second. It’s her sick way of reassuring you that your prayers have been answered, your pleads assented to; and your responsive whine was your sick way of confirming the verity of your needs.
“Dirty, fucking girl,” She spat, letting go of your face and shuffling down your body. Finding your clothed crotch, she mouthed sloppily at the dampened lace covering your pussy, groaning as she felt the second set of jewels behind the fabric.
“Now, how do you think the rest of the hospital would feel about their bright, little med student doing porn on the side?” She tormented, pinching at your inner thighs and watching you squirm. “What do you think would happen if they saw what I saw?”
Of course, you knew her threats were empty. Cassie would never blackmail you like that. But fuck, you’d be lying if you said the thought of being exposed didn’t make your pussy drool. And she could feel it, smirking against the fabric as the wet spot on it grew in size.
“That’s fucking nasty, baby…you want them all to know about the shit you get up to at night?”
She briefly rubbed your pierced clit over the now-useless lace, grinning up at you wickedly.
“Then again, shouldn’t be surprised…you do love putting on a show.”
She gave your covered pussy a few, gentle strokes…then suddenly gripped the fabric tight with both hands, and tore it horizontally to unwrap her prize.
“Jesus, Cass!”
“Oh, shut up,” She muttered, taking in the sight of your sparkling, soaked cunt with a peckish glare. “You love it.” She gave your mound a sloppy kiss, right over the little crimson jewel you picked out for your Christina, and giggled when you writhed.
“Look at this gorgeous pussy, holy shit…”
She flattened her pink tongue, and gave your labia a long, upwards lick, parting your outer lips in the process. The mere sensation of her steamy breath on your clit makes you whimper audibly, considering how your nerve endings became thrice more sensitive after you got it pierced. And of course she noticed. How could she not? She was possibly the most perceptive person in the whole department, that one.
Thankfully, she didn’t comment on that— not verbally, at least. Instead, she opted for deliberately blowing cool air directly over your clit, making your hips buck just a little. That’s when she saw a black square and a glassy gleam from her peripheral view.
Misty had entrusted you with some of her filming equipment, since she was visiting some family out of state. Her Canon EOS was perched atop a black tripod, from an angle where it can perfectly capture everything happening in the center of your room (where your bed was). You could already see the idea in her smirk before she even said anything.
“Cassie, no.”
“Why not?” She retorted, standing up and walking towards the little setup. “I know how to work this thing just fine…”
“It’s not mine,” You tried again.
“Yeah, figured it must belong to that girl you like to fuck in your videos sometimes,” She muttered bluntly.
“Cassie!”
“What? Not like it’s a secret…” The subtle bitterness in her tone made you giggle and sigh, utterly surrendering to her antics.
“What, you want me to post you this time?”
“Nah, no one’s seeing this one,” She murmured softly, a she turned the camera on and adjusted it. “This one’s for me.”
Oh?
She grinned at her reflection in the lens, patting the top of the camera lightly then retreating back to tower over you on the bed. Your thighs were pressed together now, pussy eager for what was about to happen.
“Spread your legs.”
Teasingly, you only parted them a scarce sliver, looking up at her with a smug smile. That’s when you saw the playfulness in her eyes harden into pure assertion. She grabbed your knees, and forced them apart with the strength she developed from years of emergency residency.
“I said spread your fucking legs!” She snarled, giving your sticky cunt a quick, harsh slap right on the sparkling pearl.
“Shit!” You don’t remember ever being this turned on before. Your typically composed, nurturing mentor, the same woman who signs your evaluations and compliments every breath you take right, is treating you like dirt on the sole of her shoe (sexily). Is expressing all that pent-up horniness in the way you least expected.
McKay herself was just as surprised as you are, even if she didn’t show it. Christ, is this what happens to her if she’s left high and dry for that long? She feels like a rabid dog that needs to be put down. She would’ve felt guilty for talking to you like this— she always preferred gentle guidance in the bedroom instead of nasty words— if it weren’t for how your face was aflame and your hole leaked with every ribald adjective jumping off the tip of her tongue.
Before you both knew it, she was yanking off her own pants and boxers in one go, pressing her pale, amber-tressed mound against yours. The sensation of her puffy, outer lips kissing yours, the barbell on your clit pressing cooly against her naked, plump one, makes her gasp and hiss.
“Jesus fucking Christ, baby…”
She props a soft thigh over your left pectineal line, pressing tighter and moaning as her soaked labia smacked against yours wetly. You also were enjoying yourself, to say the least; the moment her delicate, pink skin touched your punctured bud, a broken whimper graced her ears. The sound made her grin slyly, as her hips started a slow, firm pace against yours.
“Sensitive?” You moaned pathetically in response, the friction against your fragile clit prompting your hole to clench around cool air and leak onto hers.
“It’s making me worry,” She pouted with mock concern. “It’s making me worry that you’ll cum before the fun even begins…can’t have that, can we?”
You whined in embarrassment and bucked your hips against hers in an attempt to get her back on track, but Cassie wasn’t having it. Shifting her weight to pin your pelvis down on the mattress, she gave you a militant glare.
“Stay down,” She demanded. “You wanna get fucked good? You stay still, and listen.”
The way she was berating you, like you were a bratty child being a nuisance, only made your pussy feel hotter.
“O-Okay…”
“ ‘O-Okay’!” She mimicked in a dramatically high-pitched voice, snickering at you with a look that made you want to become one with the sheets. “That’s not good enough, slut. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand…”
“I understand, what?”
You weren’t daft. You knew what she wanted to hear, and it was evident in the way her mean smirk widened. Never in your life did you imagine Cassie McKay a bully, with all her perpetual, motherly kindness that permeated nearly every interaction you two had before this. But aside from you being at a point where you’d do anything to have her hips move again, you were also really fucking into this.
“I understand, Daddy.”
Her gaze grew half-lidded at this, tonguing the inside of her right cheek as she gripped your face.
“Yeahhh…that’s more like it.”
With that, she resumed her pace— steady and consistent, but intentionally failing to get you anywhere near enough to where you want to be. You cried out profanely as her slick cunt glided over yours rhythmically, lips hugging and clits rubbing deliciously. The camera watched you voyeuristically, taking in every obscene ’shlick!’ of your kissing pussies and every lusty noise departing from your throats.
“F-Fuck, please—“
Smack!
Your face snapped to the side with the sharp, quick impact, blood already pooling beneath the surface of your skin in a faint, red blotch.
“Please, who?” Cassie sneered, using your hair to push your head back against the duvet. “What do you want, hon?”
“Please, Daddy, faster…”
“Awww,” She cooed mockingly, patting your reddened cheek lightly to reactivate the sting. “So polite…my own, little bitch. You gonna ass-lick me for that orgasm you’re not getting next?”
Fuck, she was being so mean. So uncharacteristically mean. And it made you salivate.
She took one more look at your bleary eyes, and sped up her tempo with a scoff, hips rolling fluidly against yours while she watched your tits bounce. With how sensitive your cunt was, you could easily feel your impending release in the horizon— which she is barring you from, apparently.
“These as sensitive too, sweetheart?” She teased, lifting a hand to pull and twist roughly at your gleaming nipples. Your subsequent squeak made her giggle, rubbing her sopping flesh over yours harder.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She spat on your tits as she did earlier, rubbing the slightly translucent substance into your flesh roughly before giving it a few, resounding slaps. Your yelps and cries were music to her ears— her own Mozart. With a guffaw from her and a whimper from you, the loud, squelching noises of your sticky slits smacking against each other only rose in volume. So did your urgency, because you were on the brink of cumming.
“Daddy, I’m clo—“
“No,” She interrupted firmly, pulling up your right leg to rest over her shoulder as her hips oscillated back and forth intently. “You’re holding it.”
“Please—“
“You’re dumber than I thought,” Cassie scoffed, pinching at your nipples and making you arch. “I said you’re fucking holding it. I didn’t ask. Jesus, maybe you’re not all that special after all.”
Her insults did nothing to prevent your orgasm from building up— matter of fact, they only increased its proximity. You whined and clawed at her tough arms in weak desperation, your writhing hips beneath her weight telling her everything she needed to know. Hastily, she managed to remove her shirt and bra without stopping once, slapping your hand away when you reached for her supple tits.
“Fucking useless little slut, aren’t you?” Cassie seethed, halting all movement and rolling her eyes as you cried out in protest. “Can’t even hold back an orgasm…what am I supposed to do with you, hm?”
She got up momentarily, her reddened labia parting with yours in an obscene display of wet strings. The dissipation of her warmth against yours made you shiver unpleasantly, glaring weakly at her a she reached for her bag…and pulled out a considerably thick, midnight blue strap-on. And a pair of blue, latex gloves from the box Dana kept at the nurse’s station.
Your heart rate picked up at the sight, your hole contracting emptily. When she turned back, she raised her brows and snickered at your visible enthusiasm.
“Don’t get too excited, kid,” She smirked, putting her legs through the designated gaps and fixing on the harness. “This baby’s not going anywhere near where you want it to be.”
“…You mean—“
“Yeah,” She deadpanned, leaning over you once more. “It’s going in your ass. Roll over.”
You complied almost instantaneously, resting flat on your stomach and looking to the left to find the camera winking back at you. You grinned, head swiveling back to eye her over your shoulder.
“Hey, maybe I should tell Misty we have a new member on the team,” You said innocently, fluttering your eyelashes at her. You watched as her expression went from being smug to tight, and giggled to yourself.
Cassie clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and tilted her head at you.
“Yeah? That’s how we’re playing this?”
“Guess so!”
The older woman barked out a sardonic laugh, shaking her head and palming your asscheeks gently with a gloved hand. “You don’t know what you just did to yourself, sweetheart…”
She gave your right globe a sudden, forceful slap, making you interrupt your own laughter with a strangled gasp. She didn’t stop there, tutting demeaningly as she continuously brought her hand down on each cheek until they were hot and crimsoned.
“Where do you keep your lube?” It sounded more of a demand than a question. You begrudgingly pointed to a clear bottle standing on your bedside table, watching as she staggered towards it with a wolfish grin.
“And you keep that shit in plain sight? Fuckin’ whore…”
You bit your lip and squirmed lightly. “Did you expect any less from me?”
“Of course not,” She said, standing behind you again and giving the bottle a few pumps into her fingers. “I did expect some baseline decorum from our beloved prodigy, though…but you’re a slut at heart, aren’t you, baby?”
“Why don’t you find out yourself, Daddy?” This would probably be the last dare you ever challenged her with, because your bravado began to crumble the moment she rubbed the lube into your puckered hole and eased a finger in.
“Yeah, I’ll find out, alright…” Cassie didn’t even need to see your face to notice that the bratty act was weak in the knees, because she was a doctor. She could feel your blood vessels dilate below your skin, could feel your lungs‘ dissatisfaction with the shallow volume of air entering them. You were losing your composure, slowly but surely.
“Breathe, honey,” She crooned almost soothingly, but you knew she was mocking you. She knew you were already out of breath with just her index finger in your ass; when you two have only just begun. You stared at the camera with pinched brows as one digit turned into two reaching into your canal. Back and forth, back and forth…
Until she suddenly withdrew. You heard the squeak of the bottle as she pumped some more lube into her hand, now lathering the dildo in it and smirking at its glossy finish. And with zero warning, plunged into your tight hole to the hilt.
“Fuck, Cassie!”
“Not what you’re allowed to call me right now,” She grunted, smacking your ass. “You want me to move? Say it right.” In all your months fucking yourself and getting fucked on camera for the tens of thousands, you’ve never felt your face burn in shame this much. It was an achievement, mainly on McKay’s part.
“Daddy—“ She wasted not a millisecond, immediately withdrawing then shoving deeper into your ass.
“Oh, God!”
“Funny you mention him,” Cassie teased through grit teeth, as she forced the silicone dick through your tight ring of muscle again and again. “Don’t think the big man upstairs would be too happy with anything you’ve been doing…think he’s been watching?”
In any different context, you would’ve rolled your eyes. But in this context, your eyes were rolling back into your skull.
“If I were him, I wouldn’t be better than any of those pigs you put on shows for.” It was the last jive she made before grabbing your hips and forcing your asscheeks to smack against her thighs crudely, groaning at your pleasured cries and the stained print of your sodden cunt on the red sheets. A hand leaves your right side to mount your mane of hair, fingers strangling themselves in your strands and clenching down in a tight grip as she raised your head.
“Look at the camera,” She ordered under her breath, her lips brushing your helix tantalizingly. You did, and you felt her suppress a smirk against your ear. “You wanna cum? Tell them how much you wanna cum.”
Now, you knew “them” was the role-play part in all of this and that she wasn’t planning on having it posted, but it did flip a switch in your brain that only appeared once a week per schedule. Dazed with lust and desperation, your pupils penetrated the lens.
“I wanna cum so bad— fuck…”
Splat!
A glob of spit landed on your cheek, sliding down the skin then being rubbed in vulgarly by Cassie’s other hand. Her front was fully pressed against your back now, pink nipples kissing your flesh.
“You’re real fuckin’ dumb if you think you’re cumming from this,” She jeered, latex smacking damply against your slicked cheek before pinching your whole face between her thumb and the rest of her digits, forcing you to keep your eyes on the machine. “Tell them how dumb you are. Say, ‘I’m a dumb, little bitch’.”
“I’m a dumb, little bitch…” The speed in which you said it was ridiculously ironic, considering medical jargon was always teetering on the tip of your tongue.
She slapped you again, and her grip on your hair tightened. “Louder!”
“I’m a dumb, little bitch!”
“Thaaat’s more like it, atta girl…” She kept her pace brutal and deep, relishing in the smooth arch of your back and the rising hoarseness in your loud moans. “See, dumb sluts don’t get to decide when they can cum…that’s for people with functioning brains to do.”
You could feel it in her clammy skin, hear it in her rugged voice. She was close. And so were you, but she was not about to grant you that privilege just yet.
“You’re holding it,” She repeated breathily, growling against your skin as the other end of the base rubbed against her turgid clit. It only took a few more seconds for her to swear under her breath in a gasp, moistening her side of the harness and ceasing her thrusts. You, of course, left longing and frustrated.
Cassie was breathless for several moments, before she looked down and saw you glaring at her over your shoulder bitterly.
“Aww, don’t look so sad!” She pouted meanly, ruffling your hair and giggling at your dissatisfied expression. “I’m not a monster, sweet girl…you’ll get what you want eventually.”
She languidly pulled out of your asshole, marveling at the way it gaped so openly.
“We need to plug that ass up, hon…where’s your stuff?” Weakly, you motioned to a drawer in your vanity. Once again, she leaves you to snoop through your…equipment.
“Woah! Would you look at that?” She snorts as she holds up a pair of tangled nipple clamps, tossing them next to you on the bed. “We’re definitely using this…”
She’s gasping and making all these dramatic noises on purpose, just to hear your meek whines. In reality, she saw wayworse in her college days. She ends up pulling out a heart-shaped, bejeweled butt plug, along with a tiny bullet vibrator.
“And this one’s for me,” She declared in regards to the latter, taking a moment to turn it on a low setting and shove it beneath the harness to rest directly on her clit. Approaching you, she cautiously slathered the thing in lube, then rubbed your sore ass soothingly.
“This is goin’ in, alright?”
Slowly, the cool metal of the plug slid into your warm channel, forcing your rim to stretch as it filled you up. You mewled as she pressed the bottom against your hole securely, the red jewel nestled cozily between your asscheeks. For a few moments, she lets you get used to the feel of it pressing against your walls, then she rolls you on your back and grabs the nipple clamps.
“Can’t do this without the full setup, don’t you think?” She quipped, and you did your best to suppress a smart-lipped retort. Your eyes darted between her focused expression and her fingers as she took a moment to detangle the silver chain between the two clamps, raising your eyebrows as she turned to you with a wicked look.
“Gonna have to put them on vertically, considering the space your piercings are occupying…So well-behaved for staying nice and quiet, by the way. Good girl.” Part of you wanted to make a smart jab at her just for this, but the other part was busy swooning over her praise.
In a clinical air, she carefully latches each of your erect nipples between the jaws, crooning as you gave a dry sob and stilling your wriggling body with her thighs.
“There we gooo…They look so pretty, baby,” She smiled, tugging at the connecting chain just to watch you gasp and push at her hands.
“Now, for the fun part.”
She keeps you on your back this time, and places her palms on your shins to gently bend your knees towards your chest. That way, you were spread open on display for her (and the camera), open cunt glistening and plug jewel sparkling in the lights. A low whistle emerged from her lungs as she drank you in hungrily.
“What a sight for sore eyes…and legs.”
Not awaiting your response, she positions her knees on the mattress between your spread thighs, grabbing the shiny dildo and slapping it crudely against your needy pussy.
“Beg.”
You begin to groan at her demand. Haven’t you done enough of that already? But then her ringed fingers encircle the column of your throat, and you scramble to put together the words she wants to hear.
“P-Please, Daddy, I need your cock.”
“Yeah? Where do you need it, baby?” Your expertly honed, pornographic instincts were activated once more, tilting your head back to make eye contact with the camera as you answered to her command.
“Need it in my pussy, Daddy…”
She stared at you in lustful disbelief for a quick moment, holding back a moan. It wasn’t just her speedy recovery from her dry spell— she was experiencing a video of yours in real time. Cassie gulped, and snapped back into character as she rubbed the head upwards and downwards between your pussy lips.
“You beg so pretty,” She cooed, her left hand tracing the back of your thigh as she pushed in smoothly. “Such a good slut…”
You should’ve known her supposed benevolence wasn’t going to last long, because when she pulled out, she sank back in hard.
“Shit!”
“Oh, please!” McKay scoffed, setting a punishing pace in and out of your flooded pussy. “I saw you take one 3 inches longer on my screen, you’re fine.” You merely whined, writhing helplessly beneath her and staring forlornly at the camera like it’s about to swoop in and save you.
But your auburn-headed mentor had other plans for you. With a snarl, she twisted the chain with her fist and tugged at your clamped nipples harshly, reveling in the way your broken cries meshed with your hole’s loud squelches.
“Unless I say otherwise, you keep those eyes on me,” She grunted, eyes narrowing at your mascara-stained cheeks. “Say sorry.”
“Sorry, Daddy…” She smiled as more, fresh tears of delight rolled down your cheeks, dissolving your makeup and debauching your face further. “Aww, look at you…thank me for making you cry.” Her demand was followed by an affirmative slap to your tear-stricken skin.
“Thank you for making me cry, Daddy,” You sobbed, surrendering to her implacability.
“That’s it…you want more, baby?” All you could do was nod rapidly, blubbering as she pounded your seeping hole with borderline animalistic force.
“Fuck, fuck!”
“That’s what I’m doing,” She chuckled, and you would’ve smacked her arm if yours weren’t starting to tremble with every violent thrust into the wet depths of your swollen cunt. Seriously, since when was she this much of a smartass? It was usually you doing the talking.
She buried the plastic cock to the base, and leaned over you to grip your chin assertively.
“Open your mouth, slut.” You obeyed, and she shot a wad of spit onto your tongue, swearing under her breath as she watched you swallow. She forced your mouth back open again, this time to shove her index, middle, and ring fingers down your throat to watch you gag and drool around the rubbery gloves.
“Dirty, little whore…look at that…” She entertained herself with your reddening face, running nose, and welling eyes, until she hastily pulled her gloved digits out and smothered your face with the dripping latex.
The rounded tip of the strap was using your G-spot as its own, spongy punching bag, practically gutting you with every hard pummel.
And fuck, the way your pussy strangled the silicone greedily, walls tightening and relaxing wetly around the thick length. If that thing was her flesh and blood, you would’ve cut off her circulation by now.
It was all utterly dizzying for you. Her visceral tempo, the electrifying tugs at your clamped, oversensitive nipples, the classic anthem of sweaty skin stickily clapping against sweaty skin, and the sight of your superior’s jiggling breasts and breathy moans as she fucked the everliving shit out of you at a primal tempo. A slap to your soft tits, soothed by her spit being massaged into your pores and your oceanic tears kidnapped by her tongue. It was intense, overstimulating, disgusting, pornographic. Your wavelength, and apparently hers too.
The moment you felt yourself right on the edge, you shackled Cassie with your limbs and clawed at her back like your life depended on it. Having been deprived for too long, you knew it was going to hit you hard.
“Yeah, I see you,” She managed in a rough whisper, feeling her own begin to fray her nerve endings. The bullet vibe she stole from your drawer had been working overtime, buzzing relentlessly against her clit whilst being drowned by her arousal. That, combined with the friction from the base and the unspeakable sight of you, was enough to take her there. “Daddy’s got you, baby. C’mon…”
She tilted your jaw so you can face the camera again, her nose pressed against the apple of your left cheek as her teeth met tightly.
“Keep your eyes on it,” She hissed carnally, managing only a sloppy kiss against your skin. “Keep your eyes on the camera while you cum.”
When your orgasm finally hit, it wrecked you. Sucking you in with the inescapable gravitational force of a supermassive black hole, turning your insides into spaghettified mush. You could faintly feel your hole clamp down on Cassie’s strap-on like a vice, as well as the older woman’s shudders in response to her own pinnacle. Your eyes were still on the all-seeing camera lens, but your vision was dotted with black and it took your retinas a few minutes to escape the shadows.
While you didn’t know what you looked like at the moment, you were acutely aware of how your appearance felt: your scleras were starting to feel dry from all that crying, your cheeks crusty with flaky mascara. You could sense the sliminess of snot in your nostrils, and definitely the cooled dampness of saliva on various parts of your body— or at least, its residue. Your skin felt raw and hot in areas such as your ass, your face, and your breasts, with how frequently they fell victim to Cassie’s swift blows. Oh, and the fact that you were soaked between the thighs, and so were your poor sheets below you. As for Cassie herself, she wasn’t on the bed with you anymore. You only realized what she was doing when your eyes were focused again, and you heard some oddly familiar sounds emitted in a crackly, distant quality. They almost gave you déjà vu…
Meanwhile, McKay was grinning down lazily at the footage, preparing to transfer it to her phone as soon as she could.
“Oh, sweetheart…you truly are a star.”
A/N: I’M BACK IN BUSINESS YAYYY😛 not for long tho cuz i have a shit ton of dumb projects i need to work on for uni and funnily enough i wasnt even listening to the runaways when i thought of this i was listening to type o negative…but anw i wanted to write more for this but i got too tired and it was getting too long and i had to upload something so ig this is in honor of the new episode coming out!!
