no one is there.

Sweet, sweet Sami. Always confided with her in your moments of breakdown, had remembered the time you always ran to her after trouble or when a fight night was over. had mended your wounds without question and offered emotional relief, support in matters you didn’t even deserve. Still so distrusting of people, it’s only been a couple of years since you decided— Maybe life wasn’t for you. so the wrong side of tracks was the only path. She really remains the good in your fucked up life right now. Fights every night, errands by day by shady jobs you were not proud of and she’s still forgiving from it all of it. Why was she so nice? So kind to you? you wanted to pay her back, make up to her, anything to make her feel …special.

you are falling. or maybe you've been falling since the first day he came to you, all battered and wounded and bleeding, needing your hands to mend him and put him gently back together. you're not sure but you know that now, in this moment, you are drowning in the love you hold for him, it overflows out of your heart and spills into the vastness of your body and soul. he is so strong, brave; does everything he can do to remain this stone pillar, has placed these brick walls around himself to survive and keep himself safe. you think it's slowly begun to crumble in your presence but maybe you're wrong. maybe that's just what he wants you to think. nonetheless, you want to be let in, to see him like this more often. you love it—those eyes filled with desire and want, those hands that love to drift over your body, the hardness of him pressed against you.

you don't know what you're doing. fumbling always during these intimate moments, trying to follow his lead with naïve steps. but you like it, how it feels.. even if the guilt that follows is all-consuming. the shame that settles in your gut feels heavy and too warm, a white-hot fury of something unholy and sinful buried in angelic vessel. you swallow it down, as best you can, and push the thoughts of your sinful nature out of your head as you continue to grind needily against him. his lips are addictive, the fleeting touches of them against your neck and then on your lips, a seductive sweetness that makes your brain static and everything get fuzzy. you wonder if you can go through withdrawals of his touch, if you'd become so dependent on it that you'd be lost without it.

Leopard does not suggest intervention,　no matter how delicate:　Niran parades around bleary-eyed dog,　and she trails behind,　stolidly shepherding.　(It’s fine,　she thinks,　she knows,　that Niran has heretofore shown himself capable of looking after himself,　that nothing will go awry should she cease to shadow the duo in their meandering,　wherever Niran will smugly and demeaningly drag Noname to.　Not protection,　no,　never something so noble.　Selfless attack dog,　deprived of the self.)　It only stands to reason,　then,　that when Niran prattles his audacious whims and wants,　Leopard dutifully obliges.　

Back again,　in the tender and lilied adornments of a fancy hotel room　⸻　she almost figures Niran malicious enough to willfully seek out a lesser quality to torment Noname with,　but Leopard knows better than to make baseless assumptions,　still not privy to the vastest extent of humanity’s cruelty　⸻　where she has disrobed just as life’s least favorite as.　Nudity is fine.　Nudity is frank.　

Passive watcher keenly observes as Noname is made to lay back against the mattress,　bared chest facing colossal ceiling,　wrists fettered together with scratchy coconut rope.　There it is,　cruel,　but it’s difficult to imagine that he could continue existing without pain bestowed onto him.　Some people are just made to suffer.　That is the way the world is,　in blinding objectivity.　Niran meanwhile prepares himself,　hoisting harness up over his thighs:　she doesn’t make a habit of staring,　but stare she does,　anticipatory flit of eyes to hefty toy cock suspended in place.　The procured bottle of lube goes neglected,　abandoned on tabletop surface.

She’s told,　then,　to sit on Noname’s face,　smother out that fucker’s air;　expression unwavering,　she crawls onto the bed,　settling just above his face and grinding her cunt down.　Sheepish tongue laves at her folds,　and Leopard swallows once,　summoning her indifference.　Niran saunters nearer,　voracious exploiter he is,　and he toughly takes hold of Noname’s thighs to force his legs apart,　spread like a filthy magazine.　No warning comes before he rocks cockhead inside his prey’s tight hole,　Noname’s weeping length pitifully neglected.　She could help him out.　She could.　But a tool is not to defy its orders,　not intended to harbor little slices of ingenuity,　and a tool is certainly not to fiddle with flimsy kindnesses.　Leopard does not do mercy,　no,　least of all when it makes no difference to her whether downtrodden dog finds release or not.　That is Niran’s jurisdiction,　and she need not interfere.　Aggressive pace quickens,　coaxing muffled vocalizations from Noname that vibrate freely at Leopard’s core.

you think that this is exactly how these two should always be. in a perverted way, you want them sprawled out, nude and sickly connected. it's how the world wants them (or maybe it's just you, eclipsed by your own desires, so much so that you've forgotten what the world itsel desires or even what is normal to the public). to you, this is normalcy at its peak. a woman who refrains from emoting, wants to be used and follows orders like the most obedient dog, who only seems to crumble apart (only slightly, like the smallest crack in a flawless piece of glass) during heated sexual moments. then there's a man who wants to be beaten, tossed around and used for other people's pleasure, a toy or a pet when the situation calls for it, who doesn't know himself or others well at all and fumbles around just to barely survive the day.

you see it, their potential. you tell them to jump and they both ask how high.

you beckon noname to get on the bed, patting the sheets as he sheepishly makes his way there. he's exposed and you watch as his body shift around as if to avoid the stares aimed at him, that burn into the flesh of body and see everything in such vulgarity. tying his wrists together, you whisper your orders in his ear: do not cum, do not try and touch yourself, pleasure them both and he might be rewarded. if he cums, you'll punish him and make him regret ever allowing his pathetic little cock to feel any kind of pleasure. maybe a chastity cage, one of the ones that locks.. you'll never unlock it if you do. he can keep it on forever and ever, how cute. your stupid dog.

then comes the prompting for leopard. go on, sit on his face.. smother that fucker's face 'til he can't breathe. you want to see him wither beneath her, body squirming and spasming and thrashing as he struggles to balance breathing and licking her wet cunt. you almost wonder, for just a moment, how it'd feel to let his tongue lap at your folds, how it'd feel if he plunged it deep into your wetness, how you'd ride his face until you came, squirting all over as it drips down his chin and cheeks and neck. but you banish the thought. not now, not for a while will you ever let him touch your pussy in any way, shape or form. he has to earn it.

you force his legs apart and skip the prepping entirely, no lube on silicon cock and no stretching beforehand. what does it matter? his hole is well-used, it'd probably slip the cock in no problem with how often people use it. whore. you line up your cock with his entrance and sink into it without so much as a warning. you can hear the faint hiss escape noname's mouth even with her pussy muffling his voice, his tongue mid-swipe as he pauses to wriggle as you go deeper into him, to the hilt. it fills him up nicely. you don't move immediately, not until noname gets almost impatient for it as he whines needily and you smirk, slowly thrusting in and out of him.

every thrust inside of him has noname making some noise, all vague vocalizations that cannot be deciphered. a half-assed please, a fuck that dies on his lips, a strangled noise of lust; you hear it all and it only entices you to move harder, faster inside him. yes, make those disgusting sounds. you think she likes it when he does, the vibrations must feel nice as she grinds against his mouth. your hand reaches out towards her and grips her throat, a harsh, unrelenting hold on it as your fingers press down. you hold it until she gets redder and redder, until sweet tears form. only then do you let go, watching her form fall forward as she struggles for air, the action making noname (covered fully in her fluids) gulp down his own mouthful of air before he continues to lick and eat her out.

you lick her tears. it's salty on your tongue and yet you don't think you've tasted anything quite like it. you savor it, let it sit on your tongue longer than usual.. then you swallow. your hand is not gentle even as she recovers, finding itself embedded in her hair, grabbing a handful and yanking her up again. " kiss me now, " you say, but you don't even wait for a response as you collide against her mouth, a rough one that involves biting and teeth and exploring her mouth. spit drips out and you lick that too, only succeeding to make her face messier than before. all the while, you're still thrusting into the toy below, fucking noname's ass with a reckless abandon, hearing him getting closer to the edge with every plunge inside.

you can tell he's trying not to cum, he's sobbing as she continues to sit on him, as he does what he's told. he's struggling, though, you can tell. his breathing is too quick, rapid rise and falls of chest indicate he's almost to his climax. what a spoilsport, can't even let the others cum first.. oh, well! he'll get his punishment anyways. you go from kissing her mouth to biting at her neck, teeth sinking into her flesh as you suck, wanting her skin to be littered with bruises of your making. noname is thrashing beneath as he tries to get away (a poor attempt to stop his orgasm from arriving) but it's too late, his neglected dick begins to spill out its white fluid until his thighs and chest are covered in the stuff. tsk, tsk.. dumb mutt. he's not even good at being a toy.

[ 01. ] sender takes receiver down to the ground during a fight. [ 02. ] sender leaves scratches / bruises on receiver's body. [ 03. ] sender cruelly applies pressure to receiver's [ wound / bruise ]. [ 04. ] sender lightly trails a sharp knife across receiver's cheek. [ 05. ] sender wraps a hand around receiver's neck & cuts off their oxygen. [ 06. ] after a long - winded chase, sender finally corners receiver. [ 07. ] sender holds a knife to receiver's throat, blade nicking their skin. [ 08. ] sender pushes receiver into a wall & pins them there. [ 09. ] sender has poisoned receiver's [ drink / food ]. [ 10. ] sender aims a loaded gun at receiver, cocking the hammer. [ 11. ] sender suddenly throws a punch at receiver during a confrontation. [ 12. ] sender hurls an item across the room at receiver's head. [ 13. ] sender forcefully pushes receiver's head underwater. [ 14. ] sender unexpectedly arrives at receiver's home covered in blood & bruises. [ 15. ] sender pleads for receiver to help them with hiding a body. [ 16. ] sender is knocked out during a fight, & wakes up in receiver's home. [ 17. ] sender gently dabs the blood from receiver's face with a wet cloth. [ 18. ] sender crafts a tourniquet from their own clothes to stop receiver's bleeding. [ 19. ] after severely wounding receiver, sender approaches them menacingly. [ 20. ] sender takes receiver by the throat & lifts them off the floor. [ 21. ] sender licks receiver's blood from their fingers. [ 22. ] sender viciously bites receiver during a struggle. [ 23. ] sender draws receiver's blood for the first time. [ 24 ] sender grabs receiver's hair, forcing their bloodied face up to look at them. [ 25. ] sender straddles receiver to pin them to the floor.