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snuots

May 24

rainrot4me

Rain’s Kinktober 2025 - 04

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

── .✦ do not copy, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. dividers by me.

CONTAINS NSFW MINORS DNI

── .✦ Kate the Chaser x Female Reader - Hair Pulling/Sex as Punishment

✦ . Warning: Porn without plot, romantic violence, arguing, fighting, angry sex, punishment sex, hair pulling, spanking, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, rough oral sex, embarrassment, degradation, dirty talk, multiple sex positions, strap-on sex, overstimulation, crying, multiple orgasms, denied orgasm, edging

✦ . Words: 8.5k

✦ . Note: This one is kinda crazy. Just a little bit. I imagine Kate as like this very pent up person, so when you piss her off, she’s going to take all of that energy out on you. Mmmmm, yeah. Enjoy!!

Tag: #rainykinktober2025

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Kate’s room was just like her: practical, cold, and unforgiving.

No decorations. No warmth. Just a neatly made bed shoved against the far wall, a desk cluttered with blades and cleaning supplies, and the faint copper stink of blood baked into the air. The only soft thing in the space was the worn rug underfoot—dark with stains you didn’t want to identify. It wasn’t a bedroom. It was a den, a war room, a place made to sharpen knives and plan kills.

And right now, it was your cage.

Your back slammed against the wall hard enough to crack the drywall and rattle the door on its hinges. Kate’s hand was buried in your hair, wrenching your head back so you couldn’t look anywhere but at her. The edge of her mask pressed into your cheek as she shoved close, close enough you could hear the ragged snarl of her breath through the filter. Her clothes were still soaked in blood from tonight’s mission, dark splatters painting her hoodie and streaking her jeans. Some of it wasn’t even dry yet—when she shoved her knee against yours, you swore you felt it smear.

“You think this is a fucking game?” Her voice cracked through the mask, muffled but vicious, her words hot against your lips. “I told you exactly what to do, and you hesitated. You froze. You let that bastard slip past you, and guess who had to clean it up? Guess who had to chase him down while you stood there useless?”

“I—I tried—” Your voice broke, your hands coming up instinctively to grab her wrist, to relieve the pressure on your scalp, but she yanked harder, tearing a whine from your throat.

“Don’t you dare say you tried.” She hissed it like venom, slamming you harder into the wall with the weight of her body. The drywall cracked behind your shoulder. “Trying doesn’t count out there. You either do it, or you don’t. And tonight, you didn’t.”

Her forehead pressed to yours, the cold mask biting into your skin as she pinned you with it, as if the sheer force of her fury could burn a hole through you. You could smell the blood on her, the metallic tang clinging to every inch of her clothes. The room felt too small, too heavy, the air buzzing with the heat of her rage.

“I trusted you.” Her voice dipped lower, dangerous, shaking with something deeper than just anger. “You’re the only one I ever trust to have my back. And you made me look like a fool.”

You swallowed hard, words catching in your throat. “Kate—please, I’m sorry. I’ll do better—”

She punched her fist into the wall beside your head, the sound cracking loud in the silent room. “Sorry doesn’t fix it. Sorry doesn’t stop me from seeing you choke when it mattered most.”

Her grip twisted tighter, the pain sharp and hot at your scalp, but what stung worse was the look in her eyes behind the dark eyeholes of her mask. You felt it—that burn of betrayal, of disappointment, of fury laced with something aching. Something that promised you weren’t getting out of this without scars, one way or another.

“Dammit,” she hissed.

Kate finally let go of your hair with a sharp shove that sent you off balance. She turned away fast, her boots pounding against the rug as she paced, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. The tension radiated off her like heat, coiling tighter with each step.

“Fuck!” she snarled, lashing out with her boot. The side of her bed creaked and scraped against the floorboards under the vicious kick, the frame rattling. Her shoulders heaved with each breath, hoodie sticking to her sweat-smeared skin.

“Kate, I’m sorry—” You pushed off the wall, taking a careful step toward her. Your hands lifted, reaching for her arm, her shoulder, anything, but the second your fingers brushed her sleeve, she snapped her arm out, shrugging you off like your touch burned.

“Don’t.” The word cracked out sharp, dangerous. “Don’t you fucking touch me right now.”

You froze, throat tight, watching her pace in that small, suffocating room. The silence between her words was worse than the shouting—the sheer weight of it pressed down until you thought your chest would cave.

You swallowed hard, trying again, softer this time. “Please… I didn’t mean to—”

Kate whipped around, her hands flying up to the straps of her mask. “Don’t you dare—”

The buckles snapped loose under her fingers, and then the mask was ripped off her face and hurled across the room. The heavy ceramic hit the wall with a violent crack, then clattered to the floor, rocking once before it stilled.

Her face, bare and raw, was flushed with rage. Her jaw clenched hard enough to ache, eyes blazing with betrayal that cut far deeper than any blade she carried.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she hissed, stepping closer, her voice breaking on the edge of something heavier than fury. “I don’t trust anyone. I don’t let anyone near me. And then I let you in—I let you be the one exception.” Her voice shook, teeth gritted as if she was holding herself together by threads. “Do you know what it costs me to do that? Do you have any fucking idea?”

Your chest caved with guilt, your hand twitching forward again, aching to soothe her. To hold her. To kiss away the venom in her voice. But when you leaned in, desperate to connect, to prove yourself, she shoved you back hard, palm smearing blood onto your cheek.

“You don’t get to kiss me like nothing happened. You don’t get to smooth this over.” Her lip curled, breathing heavy as she loomed over you. “You want my trust back? You’re going to earn it.”

Kate’s hoodie hit the floor with a wet slap, the fabric streaked and sticky as she tugged it over her head and tossed it aside. Underneath, she stood rigid, chest heaving, shoulders hard with muscle and tension. Her sports bra clung to her, dark with sweat, outlining every inch of her toned frame—abs cut sharp under the dim light, arms flexing as her fists clenched. She looked like violence carved into flesh, like anger incarnate, all wrapped up in a girl’s body.

Then her hands went for the buckle of her belt.

Your stomach lurched, eyes flicking from her face—sharp, furious, unrelenting—to the leather strap she was tugging loose. Panic and desire twisted together in your gut, and before she could rip it open herself, you surged forward, reaching for her hips.

Her eyes widened for a flash of a second, then narrowed. She let you grab it, let you fumble at the strap, but not before her hands slammed down onto your shoulders. She shoved you hard, and your knees cracked against the rug under you. Pain shot up your thighs, but you didn’t stop—you couldn’t. You scrambled closer, fingers clawing at her belt until it slid free of the loops with a metallic hiss. The belt landed with a dull thud to the side, forgotten, as your hands went immediately for the button of her jeans.

“Kate, please,” you whispered hoarsely, desperate, your voice cracking as you worked the button loose. “I’ll do anything. Anything you want. Just… just forgive me. Please.”

Her zipper rasped down under your hands, her jeans loosening as you tugged at them frantically. You couldn’t look up—not when her shadow loomed over you, not when her chest rose and fell like she was seconds away from exploding. But you could feel her eyes burning into you, her rage tempered only by the sight of you on your knees, begging.

Your fingers trembled as you pushed the denim down her hips, the apology spilling from your lips again and again like a prayer.

Kate’s grip on your shoulders tightened, her nails biting through your shirt as she leaned down, her voice a low growl right against your ear, “You think getting on your knees is enough to fix this?”

Your hands shook as you reached down, fingers fumbling with the thick laces of Kate’s boots. The leather was stiff, crusted at the edges with mud and blood, and every knot you tugged free felt like an eternity with her standing above you, silent, seething.

“Look at you,” Kate finally rasped, voice sharp as broken glass. “Scrambling around like some dog. Think this fixes it?”

You whispered, “No…”—your voice small, cracked, barely more than a tremor—but your hands kept moving. If you couldn’t fix it with words, you’d do it with actions. You slid one boot off, then the other, careful, reverent even, as though this tiny act might cool the fire in her eyes.

She didn’t move, didn’t help, just watched you through clenched teeth, her jaw rigid as a blade.

When the boots were gone, your fingers found the waistband of her jeans, tugging at the denim, shimmying it down her strong thighs. Your breaths grew shallow, every inch of bare skin making your pulse thunder. Kate didn’t stop you, but she didn’t soften either—she let you do it, her control absolute, her silence deafening.

And then… her jeans slipped to the floor, pooling heavy around her ankles.

You froze.

Kate towered over you, sports bra hugging her chest, boxer briefs riding low on her hips. Your throat went dry at the sight of her thighs, at the sheer strength in her form, every muscle cut from tension and experience. The heat that shot through you made your whole body tremble.

Her laugh cut through the silence, low and mean. “You’re shaking.” She tilted her head, hair falling into her face as she stared down at you. “Pathetic.”

The word stung, but the sound of her voice made your knees dig deeper into the floorboards. If this was the only way she’d acknowledge you—if the only way to prove yourself to her was to be exactly where she wanted you, at her beck and call—you’d give yourself over entirely.

You bowed your head slightly, hands resting just shy of her thighs, your voice hoarse with need.

“Please, Kate… I’m sorry—” Your apology barely left your lips before Kate snapped.

“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed, her voice low and trembling—not with weakness, but with rage ready to boil over.

Her hand shot out, tangling into your hair, yanking your head back so sharp your gasp caught in your throat. She hauled you up from the floor, your knees scraping the wood, your body stumbling gracelessly to your feet. Before you could even steady yourself, she spun you hard, your back colliding with her chest, the solid wall of her body pressing flush against yours.

The world tilted as her arm snaked around your throat, locking you into a brutal headlock. The sound you made was strangled, your fingers immediately clawing at her forearm, nails scrabbling for purchase. Kate’s breath ghosted hot and furious against your ear, her jaw grinding against your temple as she wrenched you tighter against her.

“I’m sick of your fucking apologies,” she growled, every word vibrating through your spine. “Sick of how whiny you sound.”

Your lungs burned, your chest heaved against her hold, but before you could protest again, her free hand was at your hip. You barely registered the scrape of denim tearing until the violent sound rang in your ears—your jeans splitting open, button snapping under her brute force.

“Kate—” your voice broke, high and needy, as her fingers shoved down into your pants, slipping past your panties like they weren’t even there.

And then she froze.

Her palm was flat against your core, the slick heat of you undeniable. She curled her fingers, testing, dragging them slow and thick through your wetness until your thighs trembled and your breath hitched.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she snarled, half incredulous, half disgusted. Her grip around your throat tightened, forcing your back to arch as her fingers pressed deeper against your cunt. “You’re wet? Really?”

Your whimper escaped before you could bite it back, a pathetic sound muffled against the steel of her arm. Kate’s laugh was bitter, dark, edged with something dangerous.

“You like this,” she spat, voice low in your ear as her hand worked rougher, her nails scraping your thigh through the soaked fabric. “You like when I’m angry. You get off on me putting you in your fucking place.”

Her fingers shoved harder, knuckles grazing your entrance as you shook in her hold, choked whines spilling from your lips.

“You want punishment, huh?” Her words dripped like venom, her hand clamping around your cunt as her arm cinched tighter across your throat. “Fine. I’ll give you punishment you’ll never forget.”

Her fingers, once just testing, suddenly swiped across your clit in a brutal rhythm, fast and unrelenting. The shock ripped a strangled cry out of your throat, your body jolting alive like a livewire under her touch. Your knees buckled instantly, legs giving way as your whole body tried to fold in on itself—tried to get away from the overwhelming sensation.

But Kate held you locked tight, her forearm a bar across your throat, yanking your head back against her shoulder. “Don’t you dare fucking move,” she hissed, the words hot against your ear, venom dripping in every syllable.

You scrabbled at her arm, nails raking against her skin, your hips twisting, but all of it was useless. She was stronger. She was always stronger. Every frantic wriggle only made her fingers circle your clit faster, harder, until your thighs were quivering and tears pricked hot in your eyes.

“Pathetic,” Kate spat, pressing her face against your cheek, her breath searing. “Can’t even take this without falling apart. All that talk about being useful, and here you are—wet and whining like a fucking slut.”

Your whimper turned into a sob as your legs trembled beneath you, your weight dragging down, but Kate wasn’t finished. With a sharp growl, she shifted her stance, shoving one of her knees between your thighs. She kicked outward, forcing your legs apart wide and graceless, opening you up to her merciless hands. You barely had a chance to gasp before her slick fingers abandoned your clit and plunged deep, two at once, bullying inside your cunt with such force your whole body lurched forward in her hold.

“Ah—Kate!” your cry cracked, strangled as her arm cinched tighter against your throat.

“Shut up,” she barked, her fingers curling viciously inside you, pumping rough and unforgiving. “You don’t get to moan my name like you deserve me. You fucked up—you failed me—and now you’re gonna take every fucking second of this.”

Her thrusts were harsh, punishing, her palm grinding mercilessly against your clit with every shove. Your body was trembling, your head lolling back against her shoulder, your hands still weakly pawing at her arm as the wet, obscene sounds of her fingers inside you filled the room.

“Dripping all over me already,” Kate snarled, nipping at the shell of your ear with her teeth. “God, you’re so disgusting.”

Kate knew your body well. Too fucking well.

Her fingers drilled into you without mercy, each thrust angled perfectly to smash that spot deep inside, her palm grinding against your clit with every slam. It was ruthless, punishing—pleasure sharpened into pain until you were gasping, choking against her forearm as she kept you pinned. Your thighs knocked together helplessly, knees buckling, but Kate only hitched you tighter against her, her body a cage around yours.

Her breath was hot and furious against your ear as her words slithered down your spine. “At least try and pretend you don’t like this. Your cunt’s squeezing me like you want to milk my fingers. You’re so easy it’s fucking embarrassing.”

You sobbed, twisting in her grip, your nails raking across the bare skin of her arm as you tried to wriggle away from the unbearable pace. “K-Kate, please—s-slow down, I can’t—”

Her arm cinched tighter around your throat, choking your plea into a strangled whimper. She pulled your head back against her shoulder until your vision spotted at the edges, her hand between your legs never faltering.

“No,” she hissed, the word a command and a promise all at once. Her fingers curled inside you, merciless, pounding that sweet spot until wet heat gushed over her knuckles and down your thighs. “You don’t get to tell me when. You don’t get to decide anything. You just take what I give you—understand?”

Your legs shook violently, the weight of your trembling body hanging in her grasp, your nails digging deeper into her arm as if clawing for air, for mercy. But Kate’s thrusts only grew rougher, harder, the wet slap of your cunt against her palm echoing through the room.

“Cry louder,” she taunted low, her lips brushing your temple, her voice a venomous whisper. “Scream for me—let the whole mansion hear what a useless, fucked-out mess you are when I get my hands on you.”

Kate could feel the way your body was seizing around her fingers, the desperate gush of slick soaking her knuckles. You were so close—right on the edge of snapping apart under her hand, and she knew it. That’s when she leaned in, her voice like poison poured straight into your ear. “Damn, you’re clamping down like a virgin. Might just have to fuck you nice and loose tonight, won’t I? Would you like that, brat?”

The filthy words ripped through you, your stomach flipping, pleasure cresting—until suddenly her fingers were gone, tugging out of your cunt altogether. You wailed, your whole body jolting in protest as your cunt clenched around nothing, release stolen. “N-no, Kate, please—please don’t do this, I was—”

Your begging cut off into a gag when she shoved her slick-coated fingers into your mouth, forcing them deep, hooking under your tongue until drool spilled past your lips. Her other arm stayed firm around your throat, keeping you in place as you sobbed around her digits.

“You whine too much,” she snarled, grinding her fingers across your tongue. “You want to cum? Then choke on your own mess.”

You gagged, tears streaming, trying to lick her fingers clean, muffled pleas spilling out as your whole body trembled from denial. Your cunt still pulsed, wet and aching, every nerve screaming for the orgasm she ripped away.

When she finally wrenched her fingers free, you gasped, babbling broken apologies, begging to be touched again. Kate just laughed, a low, cruel sound, before loosening her arm from around your neck. For a split second, you thought maybe she was softening—until her hand slammed flat between your shoulder blades, shoving you down. You hit the floor hard, chest against the carpet, your knees buckling underneath you. Kate towered above, her chest heaving, her shadow swallowing you whole.

She watched you as she peeled the waistband of her boxer briefs down her thighs slow, teasing, never breaking eye contact. She let them fall in a careless heap on the floor, then turned her back on you like you weren’t even worth acknowledging, striding toward the bed.

You knelt there, breath shuddering, tears still wet on your face as you followed her with your eyes. She sat down at the edge, posture loose, leaning back on her hands.

When her thighs parted, your breath caught.

You turned on your knees without even thinking, your whole body angling toward her like a magnet. You wanted to speak, to say something to break the tension, but all you could do was watch. Then she lifted one finger—crooked it once.

“Come here.”

You scrambled, shifting your weight, ready to push yourself up—

“Ah-ah.” Her voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade. “Crawl.”

Your body froze. Shame and want burned through you in equal measure. Your lip trembled, but when she arched an eyebrow, daring you to disobey, you lowered yourself down. Hands pressed to the floor, knees dragging across the rug, you made your way toward her, every inch forward feeling like surrender.

Kate’s eyes were molten, following your every movement, her jaw tense. When you got close enough, she reached out, tangling her fingers in your hair again, stopping you just shy of her thighs. She forced your head up, making you look at her, making you feel how small you were on the floor while she sat back like a queen on her throne.

“Good,” she murmured, though there was nothing soft in it. “That’s the first smart thing you’ve done tonight.”

Kate’s hand tightened in your hair, nails scraping your scalp as she tilted your head back. She was studying your face, reading every crack in your expression.

“You still close?” she asked suddenly, voice sharp and mocking. “Still aching after I pulled my fingers out of you?”

Your lips parted, no sound coming at first—your throat too tight. Finally, a trembling whisper: “Y-yeah…”

Kate’s grin was wicked. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Hurts to have faith in someone to finish a job, only for them to fail you.” She tilted her head, peering down at you like you were no more than an ant under her boot. “That’s what happens when you put your trust in someone and they don’t follow through.”

The words carved into you worse than her grip on your hair. Your gaze dropped, shame flooding hot into your chest, and you felt yourself curl inward, shrinking before her.

Kate’s smile widened when she saw it—that flash of guilt she’d been digging for. She leaned down, so close her breath brushed your cheek. “See?” she whispered, voice dripping with venomous delight. “Now you get it.”

And then, without giving you a chance to process, she shoved your face down into her thighs. The musky heat of her hit you instantly, your nose buried against her, her slick brushing your lips before you even had time to inhale. You gasped against her, and Kate gave a satisfied groan, leaning back on her hands, tilting her hips forward like she was settling in for a performance.

“Eat,” she ordered flatly.

You obeyed immediately, your tongue pressing past her folds, sliding over her clit. She let out a sharp hiss and tugged your hair hard enough to sting, dragging your mouth tighter against her.

“That’s it,” she muttered, head tipping back, voice rough but edged with smugness. “Get to work.”

Her thighs flexed around your ears, her grip in your hair keeping you right where she wanted you as you licked, kissed, and sucked at her. Kate lounged back, one knee bouncing lazily, her other hand supporting her weight behind her as she leaned back. The image was obscene—like she was relaxing into the couch while you were nothing more than her toy.

Every time you tried to set your own pace, she’d jerk your head cruelly, forcing your tongue to stay exactly where she wanted it. Every moan she let out was less about pleasure and more about control—the sound of someone enjoying their power over you as much as the act itself.

Every tug of your hair sent your tongue deeper, every harsh roll of her hips ground her cunt against your face until you were smothered in her. Your muffled words—soft apologies, desperate pleas—buzzed into her slick folds, and Kate let out a sharp laugh. She yanked your head back just enough for her eyes to bore into yours, dark strands of her hair slipping into her eyesight.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she sneered, shoving you right back down, harder this time, so your nose pressed against her clit.

You groaned, hands latching onto her thighs, nails digging shallow crescents into her skin. Kate hissed through her teeth but didn’t stop you; if anything, she shoved you tighter against her, grinding slow and hard.

“Yeah,” she breathed out, voice low and dangerous. “Scratch me all you want, brat. You’re not getting up until I’m satisfied.”

Her thighs flexed under your grip as she rolled her hips, forcing your tongue exactly where she wanted it. Every time you faltered, she corrected you with a painful tug of your hair, sharp enough to make you whimper into her cunt.

“Focus,” she snapped, gasping when your tongue flicked her clit just right. She tightened her grip on your hair, dragging your mouth into a merciless rhythm. “That’s it. That’s how you earn me back. Not with your useless words—” her voice broke into a moan, guttural and raw, “—but with this.”

Kate gathered your hair in one rough motion, twisting it tight in her fist until she had you bound in a makeshift ponytail. She pulled your head back for a moment, just enough for you to see her wicked smirk before she shoved you down again, grinding her cunt against your mouth.

“Good girl,” she hissed, voice cutting with heat. “Now don’t stop until I tell you.”

Your tongue flicked over her clit in sharp, eager strokes, trying your damndest to make her feel good. Kate’s breath hitched, her thighs tensing around your face. Her free hand slid down between her legs, fingers parting her folds wide, exposing every slick inch to your tongue.

“There,” she groaned, forcing your face tighter against her as she spread herself open. “Get in there. Taste me—don’t be shy.”

You obeyed, dragging your tongue lower, dipping into her as your nose nudged her clit, then sliding back up again. Kate moaned, a raw, guttural sound that echoed in the walls of her room. She tugged on your makeshift ponytail with every twitch of her body, guiding your rhythm, bobbing you against her until your jaw ached.

Her thighs trembled around you as she laughed breathlessly. “That’s it… c’mon brat.”

Your face was drenched, every inhale full of her scent, every flick of your tongue rewarded by the tightening grip on your hair as she opened herself for you and used you without mercy. Suddenly, Kate’s thighs locked like a vice, pulling you so deep you could hardly breathe. Her nails scraped across your scalp as she yanked your hair tighter, grinding herself down against your tongue with no rhythm but her own desperation.

“Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop,” she growled, voice breaking on a moan. She wasn’t asking—she was demanding, dragging your face in harder as your tongue flicked furiously against her clit.

Your jaw ached, lungs burning, but Kate didn’t care. She spread her folds wider with her free hand, forcing you to lick every inch, every slick line as she used you. “Whiny brat,” she panted, tugging your head back only to slam you back against her. “You’re nothing to me—got it?”

You whimpered into her, the sound swallowed by the wet slap of her grinding. Kate’s hips bucked, sharp and rough, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her thighs quivered around your ears as she leaned back on her bed, utterly lost in her own pleasure, not sparing a thought for yours.

Then it hit—she arched, gasping out a harsh cry as her climax tore through her. She shoved your face harder against her cunt, riding your mouth shamelessly, moaning loud as she came all over your tongue.

“Fuck, yes—” Kate cursed, hips jerking against your face. “Stay there—don’t you fucking move.”

Her release poured over your lips and chin, soaking you. She held your head in place, grinding through every aftershock, groaning and shaking, using you until the last pulse of pleasure left her body trembling.

Finally, with a hiss of overstimulation, she yanked your head back by your hair, your lips and chin smeared with her slick. Her chest heaved as she stared down at you with a cruel smirk, flushed and satisfied as she fell back fully onto her bed, finally letting you go.

Kate’s body slackened into the mattress, one arm thrown lazily behind her head, the other absently tugging at the hem of her sports bra. She looked spent, flushed, her chest still rising and falling in the aftermath. You crawled closer, careful, lips trailing reverent little kisses along the inside of her thigh. “Kate…” you whispered, voice soft, coaxing. You pressed a kiss higher, then another, murmuring apologies, sweet nothings, anything to ease the storm in her.

Kate tilted her head, peering down at you with half-lidded eyes. For a moment, she seemed almost calm, almost tender. Her fingers slid into your hair, stroking slowly, soothingly. “You still aching?” she murmured, tone deceptively soft. “You still wanna cum, baby?”

Your chest tightened at her words, a tiny hopeful nod given against her thigh.

Then her hand tightened viciously in your hair, yanking your head back so you had to look at her as she sat up. That cruel smirk was back, sharp as glass. “Good,” she hissed, all softness gone. “Because I’m not done with you.”

She shoved you back onto your ass, your scalp burning under her grip. “Go get my strap,” Kate ordered, voice low and commanding. “Top drawer of the dresser. Bring it to me.”

Your heart hammered as her smirk widened, eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. “If you’re going to cum tonight,” she added, voice dripping with venomous promise, “it’ll be on my cock… and only when I decide you’ve earned it.”

You stumble to your feet, legs shaky and sore, padding toward Kate’s dresser. Every step feels heavy under her sharp gaze burning holes into your back. Your fingers fumble through folded clothes, socks, stray knives she never bothered to put away, until your hand lands on the silicone.

It’s heavy in your palms, the harness worn leather softened from use, the silicone cock thick and unyielding, gleaming faintly in the low light. Just holding it makes your stomach twist, heat pulsing through your core. It’s big, and thick, and you can practically feel the stretch already.

When you turn, Kate’s still watching. She hasn’t moved from the bed, one knee bent, an arm draped over it lazily like a predator lounging. Her smirk is smug, muscles shifting subtly under her skin. She cocks her head, expression saying more than words, she knows you’re nervous. You shuffle forward, eyes cast low as you offer the strap to her. Kate rises slowly, taking her time, towering over you when she takes it from your hands. She buckles it on with ease, cinching the straps tight around her hips, the cock jutting forward obscenely.

“Take your clothes off,” she commands simply, voice sharp.

Your breath catches, fingers twitching at the hem of your shirt. You peel it off, then your bra, skin prickling under her stare. She doesn’t look away once, eyes tracing every inch like she owns it. When you hook your thumbs under your jeans and push them down, Kate chuckles low in her throat.

And then your panties—damp, the fabric clinging between your thighs. Kate’s smirk splits wide. “Gross,” she mocks, her voice dripping with scorn. “I’ve never seen someone so wet from getting bullied around.”

You shift uncomfortably, shoving the soaked panties down, stepping out of them as heat crawls up your chest. Naked now, you can’t help but cross your arms over your chest, thighs pressed together instinctively.

Kate barks a laugh. “Don’t bother hiding. I see everything I need.” She steps closer, the cock swinging between you, her hand gripping it as she tilts her head, eyes raking over you with cruel satisfaction. “And you’re gonna take it. Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Kate’s grip is iron around your wrists as she yanks you toward the bed, spinning you with a rough twist until your chest hits the mattress. You gasp, the air leaving your lungs in a rush, your arms pinned behind your back. She presses down hard, keeping you flat, your body bent at the waist, ass high and vulnerable, feet scrabbling against the rug underneath for purchase.

Behind you, you hear her spit and then feel her slick fingers drag across your folds. You whimper at the contact, the cool slickness smearing over your already sensitive skin. Kate teases, circling your clit only to trail down and smear it across the thick silicone cock pressing against your entrance.

“Are you scared?” Kate mutters, her voice dark with amusement. “If not, I think you should start.”

The sting of her palm cracks against your ass before you can reply. You yelp, burying your face deeper into the mattress, the burn blooming hot across your skin.

“Quiet,” Kate snarls. She shoves your head harder into the sheets, her fingers knotting in your hair now, tugging until your scalp burns. “If you’ve got breath to whine, you’ve got breath to take me.”

And then—she pushes forward.

The blunt head of the strap stretches you mercilessly, the slick spit doing little to ease the way as Kate sinks inside. The pressure makes you arch, fingers clawing at the sheets, muffled noises spilling into the mattress as she forces herself deeper. Kate hisses a curse under her breath, hips grinding against your ass once she’s buried to the hilt. She tugs your hair back so your head lifts from the bed, voice rough against your ear.

“Feel that? That’s mine. My cock in your cunt. You’re gonna take every inch until you learn not to fuck up again. Got it?”

Kate releases your hair with a shove, your cheek slamming into the sheets, but the relief doesn’t last—her palm slams flat between your shoulder blades, pressing you deeper into the mattress until your back arches. Her other hand clamps tight around your hip, nails biting your skin, and then she starts to move.

It isn’t fast. It isn’t hurried. But it’s brutal.

Each thrust slams into you with every ounce of her anger, her hips grinding forward to bury every inch of the thick strap inside, pulling halfway out only to drive back in so hard your knees skid against the footboard. The sound of her body meeting yours echoes sharp in the small room, mingling with your muffled whimpers.

“You think you can fuck up my mission and just get away with it?” Kate spits the words like venom, her voice low and molten against the back of your neck. Another thrust knocks a choked sound out of you, and she digs her hand harder into your back, pinning you in place like a bug under glass.

“You’re nothing without me. Can’t do what you’re told without me, what makes you think you can cum without me, too?” She jerks your hip back against her cock, forcing you to feel the drag and stretch of every vein and ridge in the silicone. Your thighs tremble, instinct making you try to squeeze them shut for some kind of reprieve, but Kate kicks your legs wider with a sharp crack of her knee. The new angle is merciless—her strap drives deeper, hitting something that makes you cry out, muffled into the sheets.

“That’s it,” she growls, leaning her weight into you, the bedframe creaking under the punishment she’s doling out. “Open up for me. Take it. Let me fuck that stupidity right out of you.”

Her words burn hotter than the sting of her thrusts, the kind that make your chest tighten and your stomach twist with shame and arousal. Every time you clench down around the strap, Kate snarls a curse and drives harder, forcing you to unravel beneath her.

“Kate—” you gasp.

Kate is relentless—her hips snapping forward again and again, curses spilling from her lips with every brutal thrust. Sweat dampens her temples, her teeth bared as she growls through the effort, but she doesn’t slow, doesn’t falter. Each deep grind sends the bed rattling and your bones aching.

You’re a mess under her, whimpering, your face pressed to the mattress, tears streaking hot down your cheeks. “K-Kate—please, easier,” you choke out, your voice ragged, begging through the sting of her pace.

She snarls, but then abruptly stops—her palm leaving your back, her grip on your hip loosening. For a moment, you think she’s done with you. Instead, she leans back, hands off, her body towering behind yours. The strap slides out slow, agonizing, until only the very tip stays inside, keeping you stretched and aching.

Kate’s voice cuts sharp, low, and cruel. “You want it easier?” Her tone drips with disdain. “No. If you want to cum, then do it yourself.”

You lift your head, dazed, your breath catching. “W-what?”

Kate smirks down at you, crossing her arms like she’s watching a show. “Ride it. Fuck yourself on my cock.” She tilts her head, eyes gleaming. “You’re so desperate? Prove it.”

The weight of her command pins you harder than her hand ever could. Your thighs shake as you press your palms into the bed, pushing yourself back against the strap. It fills you inch by inch again, the stretch dragging a sob from your throat. Kate doesn’t budge—arms crossed over her chest, looming behind you like a shadow. Her stance is solid, watchful, her smug grin only deepening as she watches you tremble on all fours.

“Go on,” she says flatly, her voice cutting through your whines. “Prove you deserve it.”

Your thighs burn as you push yourself back onto the strap, the hard silicone sinking inside of you with every shaky roll of your hips. Each movement is uneven, desperate, and the effort makes your whole body quake. You glance over your shoulder, your tear-streaked face searching hers for softness, for approval—but Kate just raises a brow, unmoved, like a queen waiting to be entertained.

The frustration mounts, need curling hot and unbearable in your belly. You let out a broken sob and slip one hand between your thighs, seeking the release you’ve been denied.

Kate moves like lightning. She snatches your wrist, yanks it back, and pins your arm behind you in a bruising grip. You cry out, your cheek pressing harder into the mattress, your body forced to hold itself up on one trembling arm.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” she hisses, venom sharp and intoxicating. She jerks your wrist higher, making your shoulder ache, forcing you to arch back harder on her strap. “No. You cum from this—” she grinds the strap’s tip just enough to remind you where it is, “—or you don’t cum at all.”

Her words make your cunt clench around the silicone, a betraying wave of pleasure rolling through you as tears drip hot down your cheeks. Kate sees it instantly, her smirk widening.

Your frustration finally boils over—you’re done being toyed with, done being edged into madness. You suck in a ragged breath and snap your hips back hard, the slap of your ass against Kate’s thighs filling the room as you grind down on the strap like you own it. The shock of sensation makes your back arch, a cry tumbling out of you as the silicone drags deep inside.

Kate doesn’t move, doesn’t help—she just watches, still holding your arm behind your back. Arms still folded, her chin tilted in challenge, though you can see the sharpness in her gaze shift. Your nails claw at the bedding as you set a rhythm, hips rolling and snapping back, each thrust of your own making hitting deeper, rougher. Tears streak your face, but this time your moans rise higher, sweeter—not pleading, not apologizing, but praising.

If she doesn’t want to hear your apologies, then you’ll flood her ears with your praise instead.

“God—Kate—” you whine, your voice breaking as you push harder, grinding the base of the strap against your clit. “You feel so fucking good—so deep—”

Her jaw tightens.

You cling to that reaction, breathless words tumbling from your lips between moans, “Fuck—you’re amazing—no one makes me feel this way—” You begin bouncing your hips back, legs shaking underneath your trembling body. “Kate, please—don’t stop—feels so good, it’s all you—always you—”

Your body bucks harder, chasing her, wanting her, worshipping her even as she stands there like a statue of iron.

Maybe it’s the look in her eyes that finally pushes you over.

You can feel it building—your legs trembling, your thighs burning, every desperate snap of your hips driving you closer and closer until your cunt is clenching tight around the strap. Your voice is muffled against the sheets, but still you keep gasping her name, still praising her through sobs and breathless moans.

“Kate—Kate, I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

Your arm gives out, your chest pressed into the mattress, drool dampening the sheets, and that’s when Kate finally moves. Not to help, not to take over—just the barest rock of her hips forward. The sudden push sends the strap slamming deep, and it’s all it takes.

Your body seizes, cunt spasming violently around her cock as you cum hard—too hard—your vision blurring, your throat raw with the broken cry that rips out of you. It’s messy, unrestrained, overwhelming—like your body is punishing you for holding back so long.

But Kate doesn’t even let you finish.

Before the last wave has torn through you, she’s grabbing you by the hair again, pushing you up fully onto the bed. You’re still twitching, still weak, when she shoves you down flat on your stomach. The mattress dips with her weight as she climbs after you, her fingers biting cruelly into your hips, dragging them up so high your spine arches sharp and painful, your knees barely keeping you steady. Before you can gasp, she plants her palm flat on the back of your head and shoves, smashing your face into the mattress.

The world goes muffled against the sheets. Her weight is everywhere, heavy, inescapable.

And then she’s inside you again.

The strap slams back into your cunt, wet and relentless, not deep this time but fast—hard, shallow thrusts that pound against your clit and nerve endings in a dizzying blur. Each snap of her hips rattles through you, quick, merciless, dragging sharp cries out of your throat until they’re muffled into raw screams against the bed.

Kate’s breath hisses through her teeth above you, low curses spilling between clenched jaws. “That’s it—take it—scream for me, you fucking mess.”

Your fists twist in the sheets, your body buckling forward, but she doesn’t let you collapse. Her palm grinds your face harder into the mattress, holding you in place as her pace quickens, brutal and unyielding. The rhythm is ruthless, punishing—each shallow thrust a reminder, each slap of her hips against your ass a declaration of her control. Your body shakes, the sound of wet, obscene slaps filling the room with every thrust. Tears streak down your cheeks into the fabric under you, your voice cracked and high from how desperately she’s wringing you out.

It’s not slow, not teasing—it’s relentless, dizzying, and enough to break you open all over again.

Your body shakes under her, each shallow thrust driving you past the point of reason. Your face is pressed into the mattress, muffled screams catching in your throat, and she growls curses at you—nasty, cutting, cruel words spilling like venom.

“You think you can fuck this up and just—ugh, Christ, you’re such a mess,” she snarls, her teeth gritted. Every syllable drives you higher, your cunt clenching around the strap so tight it feels like it’s burning. “Look at you—shaking like a whore—always so desperate for it—”

Your whimpers turn into full-blown wails, breathless cries rattling your chest as your body bounces under her relentless pace. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping skin, the slick smear of strap against you, and your ragged, pleading noises.

And then something shifts. Slowly. Her growls soften just a fraction. Her harsh words falter, stumbling mid-sentence. She jerks your body a little less roughly, and the cursing melts into something less pointed, almost awed. Like her anger is finally sizzling out.

“God… fuck, you feel so good,” she mutters, voice rough around the edges. Her fingers ease from digging into your hair, instead tracing the curve of your shoulders as her pace becomes less erratic, more controlled. “So… pretty, like this—so tight, so warm…”

Your cries are still raw, breathless, but you can hear her tone changing, how she leans closer, body pressing heavier against yours, grinding instead of punishing. The strap still fills you, every movement precise, but now it’s more about connection than proving a point.

Her arms snake around your middle, pulling you flush against her chest. Her chest presses into your back, her stomach flat against it as she adjusts her angle, grinding down into you with slow, deliberate motions. Prone boning. The force is still there, still intense, but there’s no rage—only the messy, greedy rhythm of her body pressing into yours.

Her lips brush your ear, whispering low praises now, compliments threading through moans, “Such a good girl… you feel amazing…” She grunts, kissing your shoulder. “Look at you, taking me like this…”

Your body shudders beneath her, your hips moving with hers almost instinctively, slick sliding over slick. You whine, dragging your nails across her comforter as she presses deeper, the strap shifting deliciously inside you.

She forgets entirely. Forgetting the anger, forgetting the mission, forgetting why she’d been so sharp with you in the first place. All that remains is this—the weight of her body, the press of her chest, the hot friction against your cunt, and the intoxicating sound of her praising you breathlessly between grinding, moaning, and gentle growls.

Your cries soften into shaky, ragged whimpers as she continues, hips rolling, chest pressing, arms wrapped around you like she doesn’t want to let go. Every time you twitch, every shiver that wracks your body, she murmurs your praises, reveling in the feel of you beneath her, lost entirely to the mess of pleasure she’s finally letting herself enjoy.

The room is heavy with sweat, sex, and the warm press of bodies. The strap fills you, her weight flattens you, and for a long, sloppy, messy stretch of time, Kate doesn’t care about missions, mistakes, or who she has to kill. There is only the primal, needy rhythm of her fucking you from above, over and over, until all that’s left is her breathing hot against your shoulder and the sticky, delicious ache of being completely owned by her.

Your body quivers under her weight, hips pressed flush to hers as the strap stretches you in all the right ways. The frantic, dizzying pace from before is gone—Kate’s movements are slower now, deliberate, grinding down into you with the full weight of her chest and arms pressing you into the mattress. Every rub of her hips against yours, every press of the strap into your soaked cunt, is measured and precise, teasing out the pleasure inch by inch.

Your back arches, nails digging into her bedsheets, breaths coming in shaky pants, soft whimpers trailing with each slow, heavy thrust. You can feel her weight, her warmth, every curve of her body pressed against you, and it drives your need higher, different from before—not desperate or frantic, but deep, molten, and spreading through your stomach and thighs like fire.

“I… I’m gonna…” you whisper brokenly, and she hums against your ear, grinding even slower, drawing out the moment.

“Yeah?” Kate murmurs, voice low, almost possessive. “C’mon, brat. Cum for me. You’ve earned it.”

Your thighs tremble, cunt clenching impossibly tight around the strap as warmth coils deeper and deeper. Your stomach twists, chest heaving, eyes squeezed shut, every nerve ending alive with the slow, insistent friction. You cry out, but it’s soft, ragged—a stark contrast to your last frantic, wild orgasm. This one is long, rolling over you in slow, shuddering waves, your body convulsing under her weight.

Kate doesn’t move away. Instead, she buries herself against you, hips still pressing down, grinding you through every slow tremor, arms wrapped around your middle to hold you steady. Her chest is flush against yours, and her breath hitches in time with yours as you ride out the slow, deep release. Your muscles clench and tremble, a warm, pulsing ache spreading through your core, legs trembling as the orgasm rolls through you with exquisite insistence. Kate hums approvingly, murmuring praises against your hair and shoulders, letting you feel her approval, her ownership, her satisfaction as you shake beneath her.

Even as your body slowly settles, your cunt still clinging wetly to the strap, her weight presses you down, grounding you. She whispers your name softly now, no anger, no teasing.

Kate’s weight shifts slightly as she loosens her hold, still pressed against you, but one hand slides free from around your waist to tangle in your hair. She tilts your head to meet hers, and before you can react, her lips are on yours. The kiss is slow and heavy, deep, lingering, and you whimper softly, exhausted and still shaky from how hard she had been on you. Punished, fucked out, but still alive with warmth.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Kate murmurs into the kiss, voice low and rough. Her thumb brushes across your jaw as she presses her forehead to yours, letting you feel her warmth. “I just… I got angry. I went too hard.”

You shake your head, tired but still attentive, leaning into her hand, pressing your lips against hers again. “No, I… I’m sorry too,” you murmur between breaths. “I never… I never want you not to trust me again. I—I’ll do anything not to…”

Kate hums against your lips, nuzzling into your cheek before pulling back slightly, still keeping your hair wrapped gently in her fingers. “Forget it,” she says firmly, her voice soft but steady. “You’re the only one I’ll ever trust. Nothing—not even me having a tantrum—could change that.”

A weak, tired smile spreads across your lips as you finally allow yourself a soft laugh. “Well… if I’m still making it up to you… maybe you could… eat me out?” you tease, the words slurring slightly from the exertion, eyes flicking up to her.

Kate freezes for a moment, the corners of her lips twitching into a smirk before her fingers yank sharply at your hair. “Brat,” she growls, though it’s playful, the anger from before fully melted into lingering heat. She leans down, pressing her forehead back to yours, letting you rest under her body weight, her chest still warm and heavy atop you, both of you catching your breaths.

The room smells heavily of sweat and sex, the sheets twisted and warm beneath you. Your clothes are askew all across the floor, and there’s still blood stained across Kate’s sweatshirt puddled on the floor. You press a soft kiss to her lips once more, letting her feel your warmth, your lingering need, and she hums against it, tightening her hold just slightly, murmuring your name.

Until—

“Do you really like it when I bully you?” Kate smirks, scanning your face.

You blush, rolling your eyes. “Maybe…”

You feel just the slightest shift, just the lightest roll of Kate’s hips where her strap is still buried snug inside you, and you gasp, body tensing with the movement , your core fluttering and clenching around it. You glare at her, only to find a smug smirk on her face.

“Good to know.”

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