f a n and f i c t i o n

Cassandra sips a glass of red wine from her office balcony most mornings. As the councilwoman’s secretary, you usually scurry around the office or run small errands for her in the city.  Some days, when her silly little husband or naive daughter works her nerves just right, Cassandra needs to release her pent-up frustration. That’s where you come in. It’s your job to alleviate her stress and workload; what better way to relieve stress than having your secretary bent over your desk for brunch? You were always so good to her, never causing her the stress her daughter did, always willing to try the things her husband would shy away from.

One of Cassandra’s dainty gloved hands massages your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as her other hand is lodged in your sopping pussy, slowly fucking you with her long, slender fingers. It’s a privilege to have an audience with the councilwoman like this, so if you want to cum, you must beg for her, she says. At the same time, she’ll exhale lightly against your clit, teasing you all the more. You have no choice but to beg for her, not that you weren’t seconds away from dissolving in a blubbering mess anyway. The stimulation from her fingers alone was divine, but they were nowhere near enough to get you close to the edge. So you do, like a pathetic little puppy, you beg for her. You plead for her to let her anger and frustration out on you.

            “Please, Miss,” you whimper. “Use me, give me all your stress. I’ll take it, all of it.” 

 If Cassandra’s feeling nice, she’s quick to give you what you asked so nicely for.  She’ll move you to your back with your legs spread to make it easier on her own - you will never catch the counselor on her knees for anyone. She’s quick to press her de-gloved fingers back into your pulsing entrance, her mouth joining them this time, nibbling and suckling your clit. You try your hardest not to scream in pleasure- the last thing you want to do is alert someone to what is happening. But with all her stimulation, you can feel yourself tumbling toward the edge. Failure is inevitable, and you moan loudly when your orgasm consumes you. 

Cassandra slows for maybe a minute as you're coming to, your pussy is pulsing around her fingers, and you’re trying to flinch away from how sensitive you feel, but she’s not stopping. She chuckles into you, steadying you with her free hand, “I’m still very frustrated, my dear. And we haven’t even gotten to the main course. I’m afraid you might need to readjust my schedule after lunch.” 

Jayce would have you at the grand table in the conference hall after a relatively gruesome meeting. He would claim that after such a long boring conference, he needed a snack- he was “just absolutely famished.” You were quick to offer yourself to him, and he wasn’t hesitant to accept your offer. Jayce happily lapped at your cunt, savoring your juices almost as if he had been without food and water for weeks. There was nothing more Jayce wanted than to taste your sweet release, and he had you close to cumming relatively quickly. Jayce is incredibly skilled with his mouth; while his tongue works dutifully, leaving long broad strokes through your folds, one of his hands stimulates your clit. His thumb circles it without remorse, and you’re sure you’re falling apart then and there. But to your surprise and dismay, he halts his movements. 

“Well, don’t stop now that you’ve gotten caught,” Councilwoman Medarda stood tall and as elegant as ever in the doorway. You didn’t hear her come in. In shock, you try to get up, but Jayce halts you. Heeding her wishes, Jayce continues, holding you in place with his free hand. 

“I- Councilwoman- I-I’m sorry!” You squeak, trying to shuffle away from the persistent counselor between your legs. 

She strolls into the room, her hips delightfully swaying as she makes her way to join you. “Don’t be. You’re not the one in trouble- What a good aide you’ve been, helping this greedy dog get his fix,” Mel says. She stands in the inner portion of the table, near your head, peering down at you. She reaches down and begins gently massaging your breasts. “I think if the poor dog wants to eat so bad, we should let him eat, and eat, and eat until his heart's content.” 

There's no time for you to ponder or even process what she means. Your first orgasm comes crashing over you as Jayce takes your clit between his lips and pushes his fingers into your dripping heat. He doesn’t stop, and you can quickly feel the familiar tension returning in your lower abdomen. You attempt and fail to choke back sobs from the overstimulation. His fingers thrust in and out of you with remarkable precision and consistency. As you cum a second time, Mel comforts you by wiping the sweat from your brow and cooing gently in your ear. “There, there. If you waste all your tears night now, you won’t have any for the main event.”

Silco was a busy, busy man. It’s hard work running the undercity and raising a daughter with a loaded, trauma-filled past. So naturally, after a relatively long week of chem barron negotiations that went virtually nowhere, Silco’s patience was wearing thin. He didn’t have time to entertain you or put up with your bratty antics. That, however, has never stopped you, and you don’t take neglect from your beloved too well. If anything, it makes it ten times harder on Silco. You ramp up your brattiness and constantly interrupt his work until he snaps, deciding nothing can move forward until you’re punished. 

Paper and pens are strewn off his large oak desk in seconds, and your body replaces them just as quickly. You're bent over the cold surface, standing on the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him. Your knuckles pale as your grip tightens in anticipation around the edge of the desk. “Is this what you wanted, my attention?” Silco says as he makes quick work of discarding your undergarments. You hum “yes” happily when the cool air hits your sopping cunt. 

“Well, now you’ve got it, my little dove,” he says, groping and massaging the globes of your ass. Don’t be fooled. Silco isn’t letting you off scot-free. Not after all the strife you’ve caused him. His right hand lifts from your ass, and before you have time to register what he might do with it, it’s coming back down hard against your behind. You let out a surprised squeak, tensing when Silco grabs the tingling flesh.  

“ Count them,” he says simply. With little warning, the next one comes down as ruthlessly as the first. 

One, two, three, four, five. You heed his command and count each one. Every harsh slap is heavy and quick, causing your breath to become quick and shallow. 

Your ass is on fire, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from clenching desperately around nothing. As Silco harshly squeezes your burning flesh, his thumb makes its way to massage your tight button hole and your pussy entrance, teasing you. You whine and whither in his grasp. “Do you need something?” Silco’s low vibrato causes shivers to run down your spine. 

“ I need you, please,” you whimper pathetically. 

“We’ll get there, dove…Right now, we’re teaching you a thing or two about patience,” You can feel Silco’s warm breath graze against your entrance. “Keep counting.” He says as laps at your pussy.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. He slaps your neglected left side just as aggressively as the other. Both sides tingle, radiating heat as Silco devours you. It’s hard for you to focus, but you manage all while grinding back into Silco’s mouth. 

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Silco can tell you’re close by how you tense around his tongue, and your legs start quivering. He moves to suck on your sensitive clit, and you grind backward onto his nose. Moments later you're tipping over the edge, Silco guiding you through every second of pleasure. 

Once you’ve caught your breath, Silco retreats, you don’t dare to move or get up. You hear him lick his wet lips and the metal buckle of his pants come undone. “Now onto the main course, my dove.” 

Due to her hostile nature, Vi had spent the first several years of her sentence alone within the concrete walls of Stillwater. The only human interaction she’d had was between meal times when the guards would bring her a tray of gray slop and stale bread or during hygiene hour when she is granted daily access to the showers. One day that changed, instead of being delivered the usual atrocity that was lunch, you’re delivered. Whether it be because her behavior improved or because the prison had reached a certain capacity, Vi didn’t know. When she got a good look at you, she quickly decided she was grateful to have a new cellmate either way. 

This innocence radiated from you, something Vi craved and hadn’t had for a long time. Something about you just screams, “she doesn’t belong here.” There's no way you were in this shit hole on anything more than petty charges, false ones even, Vi pondered. 

You fall into your place in the natural hierarchy so easily as well. Vi didn’t have to fight or intimidate you for anything. She was in charge from the beginning. Food, necessities- anything she asks of you, you give her. You never ask much of it. She kept peering guards off your back and ensured no bigger fish came to snatch you up. Although, maybe you should’ve been more aware of the peering eyes just behind you or the monster sleeping above you, waiting for the perfect moment to devour you whole. 

Before long, the tension you seem too naive to notice becomes almost overbearing for Vi. She’d asked you to scrub her down in the shower, wash her hair, and dry her off. You had done so dutifully, assuming the way she twitched beneath your fingers was due to stress and fatigue. It wasn’t until you found yourself face down against the cool bathroom counter and stripped of your lower garments that you considered anything else. 

“V-Vi!?” you stammer. Alarmed, you begin to thrash, trying desperately to face your cellmate. Only you find it’s futile. With one hand, Vi has your arms in a firm, unrelenting hold behind your back. 

“So innocent, so precious,” She drags out her words like a snake, grabbing and massaging your bare ass with her free hands. “I could just eat you whole.” 

Vi leaves you with no time to ponder her words before her warm mouth finds your cunt. She moans loudly at the taste sending vibrations coursing through you. You try to fight her, but your resolve is already weakening drastically, and your thrashing only serves to push you further into her warmth. 

“Mmh,” she hums. “You taste even better than I imagined.” 

“Please…” you whimper. 

“Please what? Do you want more?” She teases. Before you have time to deny her accusations, two of her fingers join her mouth, thrusting into your dripping hole. The feeling immediately shatters what’s left of your will to fight back. Kitten-like mews and whorish whimpers erupt from your throat. 

“There, there,” she coos, as your walls tense and un-tense tightly around her fingers. She can tell you’re close already.

Her mouth finds its way to your sensitive clit, and she begins sucking hard. With the combined efforts of her mouth and fingers, you're cumming in no time. Screaming out her name as your release finds you, your juices spill down Vi’s face. 

When she stands, her reflection in the mirror serves as your only method of looking at her. She wears a proud smirk on her face, watching as you pant and twitch beneath her. “What a good little slut you are. When we are done, everyone in Stillwater will know who you belong to.”

Cassandra sips a glass of red wine from her office balcony most mornings. As the councilwoman’s secretary, you usually scurry around the office or run small errands for her in the city.  Some days, when her silly little husband or naive daughter works her nerves just right, Cassandra needs to release her pent-up frustration. That’s where you come in. It’s your job to alleviate her stress and workload; what better way to relieve stress than having your secretary bent over your desk for brunch? You were always so good to her, never causing her the stress her daughter did, always willing to try the things her husband would shy away from.

One of Cassandra’s dainty gloved hands massages your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as her other hand is lodged in your sopping pussy, slowly fucking you with her long, slender fingers. It’s a privilege to have an audience with the councilwoman like this, so if you want to cum, you must beg for her, she says. At the same time, she’ll exhale lightly against your clit, teasing you all the more. You have no choice but to beg for her, not that you weren’t seconds away from dissolving in a blubbering mess anyway. The stimulation from her fingers alone was divine, but they were nowhere near enough to get you close to the edge. So you do, like a pathetic little puppy, you beg for her. You plead for her to let her anger and frustration out on you.

            “Please, Miss,” you whimper. “Use me, give me all your stress. I’ll take it, all of it.” 

 If Cassandra’s feeling nice, she’s quick to give you what you asked so nicely for.  She’ll move you to your back with your legs spread to make it easier on her own - you will never catch the counselor on her knees for anyone. She’s quick to press her de-gloved fingers back into your pulsing entrance, her mouth joining them this time, nibbling and suckling your clit. You try your hardest not to scream in pleasure- the last thing you want to do is alert someone to what is happening. But with all her stimulation, you can feel yourself tumbling toward the edge. Failure is inevitable, and you moan loudly when your orgasm consumes you. 

Cassandra slows for maybe a minute as you're coming to, your pussy is pulsing around her fingers, and you’re trying to flinch away from how sensitive you feel, but she’s not stopping. She chuckles into you, steadying you with her free hand, “I’m still very frustrated, my dear. And we haven’t even gotten to the main course. I’m afraid you might need to readjust my schedule after lunch.” 

Jayce would have you at the grand table in the conference hall after a relatively gruesome meeting. He would claim that after such a long boring conference, he needed a snack- he was “just absolutely famished.” You were quick to offer yourself to him, and he wasn’t hesitant to accept your offer. Jayce happily lapped at your cunt, savoring your juices almost as if he had been without food and water for weeks. There was nothing more Jayce wanted than to taste your sweet release, and he had you close to cumming relatively quickly. Jayce is incredibly skilled with his mouth; while his tongue works dutifully, leaving long broad strokes through your folds, one of his hands stimulates your clit. His thumb circles it without remorse, and you’re sure you’re falling apart then and there. But to your surprise and dismay, he halts his movements. 

“Well, don’t stop now that you’ve gotten caught,” Councilwoman Medarda stood tall and as elegant as ever in the doorway. You didn’t hear her come in. In shock, you try to get up, but Jayce halts you. Heeding her wishes, Jayce continues, holding you in place with his free hand. 

“I- Councilwoman- I-I’m sorry!” You squeak, trying to shuffle away from the persistent counselor between your legs. 

She strolls into the room, her hips delightfully swaying as she makes her way to join you. “Don’t be. You’re not the one in trouble- What a good aide you’ve been, helping this greedy dog get his fix,” Mel says. She stands in the inner portion of the table, near your head, peering down at you. She reaches down and begins gently massaging your breasts. “I think if the poor dog wants to eat so bad, we should let him eat, and eat, and eat until his heart's content.” 

There's no time for you to ponder or even process what she means. Your first orgasm comes crashing over you as Jayce takes your clit between his lips and pushes his fingers into your dripping heat. He doesn’t stop, and you can quickly feel the familiar tension returning in your lower abdomen. You attempt and fail to choke back sobs from the overstimulation. His fingers thrust in and out of you with remarkable precision and consistency. As you cum a second time, Mel comforts you by wiping the sweat from your brow and cooing gently in your ear. “There, there. If you waste all your tears night now, you won’t have any for the main event.”

Silco was a busy, busy man. It’s hard work running the undercity and raising a daughter with a loaded, trauma-filled past. So naturally, after a relatively long week of chem barron negotiations that went virtually nowhere, Silco’s patience was wearing thin. He didn’t have time to entertain you or put up with your bratty antics. That, however, has never stopped you, and you don’t take neglect from your beloved too well. If anything, it makes it ten times harder on Silco. You ramp up your brattiness and constantly interrupt his work until he snaps, deciding nothing can move forward until you’re punished. 

Paper and pens are strewn off his large oak desk in seconds, and your body replaces them just as quickly. You're bent over the cold surface, standing on the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him. Your knuckles pale as your grip tightens in anticipation around the edge of the desk. “Is this what you wanted, my attention?” Silco says as he makes quick work of discarding your undergarments. You hum “yes” happily when the cool air hits your sopping cunt. 

“Well, now you’ve got it, my little dove,” he says, groping and massaging the globes of your ass. Don’t be fooled. Silco isn’t letting you off scot-free. Not after all the strife you’ve caused him. His right hand lifts from your ass, and before you have time to register what he might do with it, it’s coming back down hard against your behind. You let out a surprised squeak, tensing when Silco grabs the tingling flesh.  

“ Count them,” he says simply. With little warning, the next one comes down as ruthlessly as the first. 

One, two, three, four, five. You heed his command and count each one. Every harsh slap is heavy and quick, causing your breath to become quick and shallow. 

Your ass is on fire, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from clenching desperately around nothing. As Silco harshly squeezes your burning flesh, his thumb makes its way to massage your tight button hole and your pussy entrance, teasing you. You whine and whither in his grasp. “Do you need something?” Silco’s low vibrato causes shivers to run down your spine. 

“ I need you, please,” you whimper pathetically. 

“We’ll get there, dove…Right now, we’re teaching you a thing or two about patience,” You can feel Silco’s warm breath graze against your entrance. “Keep counting.” He says as laps at your pussy.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. He slaps your neglected left side just as aggressively as the other. Both sides tingle, radiating heat as Silco devours you. It’s hard for you to focus, but you manage all while grinding back into Silco’s mouth. 

Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Silco can tell you’re close by how you tense around his tongue, and your legs start quivering. He moves to suck on your sensitive clit, and you grind backward onto his nose. Moments later you're tipping over the edge, Silco guiding you through every second of pleasure. 

Once you’ve caught your breath, Silco retreats, you don’t dare to move or get up. You hear him lick his wet lips and the metal buckle of his pants come undone. “Now onto the main course, my dove.” 

Due to her hostile nature, Vi had spent the first several years of her sentence alone within the concrete walls of Stillwater. The only human interaction she’d had was between meal times when the guards would bring her a tray of gray slop and stale bread or during hygiene hour when she is granted daily access to the showers. One day that changed, instead of being delivered the usual atrocity that was lunch, you’re delivered. Whether it be because her behavior improved or because the prison had reached a certain capacity, Vi didn’t know. When she got a good look at you, she quickly decided she was grateful to have a new cellmate either way. 

This innocence radiated from you, something Vi craved and hadn’t had for a long time. Something about you just screams, “she doesn’t belong here.” There's no way you were in this shit hole on anything more than petty charges, false ones even, Vi pondered. 

You fall into your place in the natural hierarchy so easily as well. Vi didn’t have to fight or intimidate you for anything. She was in charge from the beginning. Food, necessities- anything she asks of you, you give her. You never ask much of it. She kept peering guards off your back and ensured no bigger fish came to snatch you up. Although, maybe you should’ve been more aware of the peering eyes just behind you or the monster sleeping above you, waiting for the perfect moment to devour you whole. 

Before long, the tension you seem too naive to notice becomes almost overbearing for Vi. She’d asked you to scrub her down in the shower, wash her hair, and dry her off. You had done so dutifully, assuming the way she twitched beneath your fingers was due to stress and fatigue. It wasn’t until you found yourself face down against the cool bathroom counter and stripped of your lower garments that you considered anything else. 

“V-Vi!?” you stammer. Alarmed, you begin to thrash, trying desperately to face your cellmate. Only you find it’s futile. With one hand, Vi has your arms in a firm, unrelenting hold behind your back. 

“So innocent, so precious,” She drags out her words like a snake, grabbing and massaging your bare ass with her free hands. “I could just eat you whole.” 

Vi leaves you with no time to ponder her words before her warm mouth finds your cunt. She moans loudly at the taste sending vibrations coursing through you. You try to fight her, but your resolve is already weakening drastically, and your thrashing only serves to push you further into her warmth. 

“Mmh,” she hums. “You taste even better than I imagined.” 

“Please…” you whimper. 

“Please what? Do you want more?” She teases. Before you have time to deny her accusations, two of her fingers join her mouth, thrusting into your dripping hole. The feeling immediately shatters what’s left of your will to fight back. Kitten-like mews and whorish whimpers erupt from your throat. 

“There, there,” she coos, as your walls tense and un-tense tightly around her fingers. She can tell you’re close already.

Her mouth finds its way to your sensitive clit, and she begins sucking hard. With the combined efforts of her mouth and fingers, you're cumming in no time. Screaming out her name as your release finds you, your juices spill down Vi’s face. 

When she stands, her reflection in the mirror serves as your only method of looking at her. She wears a proud smirk on her face, watching as you pant and twitch beneath her. “What a good little slut you are. When we are done, everyone in Stillwater will know who you belong to.”

In the early morning, when the sun has just barely peeked from behind the horizon, Caitlyn would have you upon a mountain of Piltover's fluffiest feather-stuffed pillows. She’d carefully lay you back, and you would sink right into them, enough so you couldn’t quickly get up without her help but not so you wouldn’t have a view of the show. Caitlyn would maintain eye contact, delicately pressing kisses down your sternum, abdomen, and pelvis before finally making contact with your velvety lower lips. Both of you moan loudly and let your eyes slip closed as she buries her tongue in your folds. Caitlyn begins to nibble and suck at your clit. It feels like a delightful ascension to heaven every time she buries her face between your thighs. As she makes a meal of you, she also has a habit of wrapping her hands over your inner thighs, kneading and massaging the sensitive flesh. It also served the purpose of holding you steady as you become more riled up and sensitive. When she knows you're close, she’ll take two fingers and thrust into you roughly as she sucks on your clit. She’d goad you on, using her smooth voice to tip you over the edge.

“How beautiful! Piltover's finest pillow princess~” She’d say, the vibration of her words only adding to the weight of her ministrations. You’re already tipping over the edge when she pulls away to give you the command to come undone. Your walls squeeze tightly against her fingers, you can’t keep from grinding your sensitive clit against the palm of her hand, and you release the most ear-shrilling moan of pleasure as she encourages you on, “There, there. Cum for me, Darling.” 

Most days, Viktor woke well before the city. He would carefully kiss your forehead and quietly leave for the lab without disrupting your sleep. On the rare occasion he’s unmotivated to leave bed before you wake, he will 100% use the opportunity to wake you with his mouth. He’ll assure you’re sound asleep on your back, gently moving you if he has to. Once all is right, he simply goes ahead with spreading your legs and gently removing your undergarments. The chill of the early morning air against your warm cunt causes you to stir, but not enough to completely wake you. With a clear path, Viktor wastes no time burying his face between your legs. He moans in delight, savoring your taste. His large hands hold your lower belly flat and still as your body starts to jerk with pleasure. A knot in your core tightens as sweet consciousness begins to consume you, and you burst awake as Viktor begins trusting his long fingers into you. Your skin is on fire, and by the way your toes curl, he can tell you’re close. 

“Cum for me, my sweet.”  He’ll hum into you. The sweet reverberations send waves of pleasure coursing through you. You’re moaning loudly at this point, trying everything you can to gain your sweet release. You grind hard on his face; feeling the tip of his nose brush against your clit is everything you need. You cum hard and fast. Your mind blanks, and you see white as you come down. “Good morning, love.” 

Vander, most mornings, can be found polishing glasses before the Last Drop opens in the late afternoon. Usually, this is also when he restocks the tap and cleans up any mess from the previous night. Most mornings, Vander has no trouble finding work for himself. But, when he’s not too busy, and you’re accompanying him, there’s a good chance you’ll found bent over the bar counter. Your fists tightly grasp the countertop, grounding you as Vander makes himself useful, licking your wet cunt clean. His thick tongue fucks in and out of your lower cavern, devouring every drop of pleasure you have to offer. Vander is more intoxicating than anything you could serve at the bar, your head spins, and your walls clench tightly around him. Just when you think it can't get any better, he’ll remove himself from you momentarily, leaving you cold and empty. You whine at the loss of his warm mouth, but you aren’t barren for too long. He experiments by thrusting his thick index finger into your entrance, and you tightly pulse around him. Once he deems you ready, he replaces it with another finger, stretching you delightfully. 

He fucks you hard with his fingers, and it’s not long before you feel ready to cum. Vander can feel it too. He leans down and continues to suckle and lick your clit until you topple over the edge. The simultaneous stimulation is too much for you to bear, and you arch off the counter as something in you snaps. 

“I’ve got you, hun,” Vander sweetly comforts you through your blissful orgasm. His free hand comes and massages your ass as you come down. 

Marcus was never one to skip a shower, especially since his job often found him in the filthy trenches of the undercity. As sheriff, he had to be up early, so you rarely joined him in the mornings. When you do, it’s usually for a morning shower. Groggy and heavily afflicted by morning wood, it wouldn't take long for one thing to lead to another. With his back facing the shower head, Marcus would hold you up so your sopping cunt was level with his mouth and your thighs rested on his shoulders. Beads of hot water splashed down on him, but that did little to deter him from savoring his morning coffee. His large hands drape over your thighs. One of them finds itself massaging a handful of the delicate meat of your thigh, and the other’s thumb circles your clit as he fucks you with his tongue. He moans deeply into you, savoring you. Your own hands find themselves tied up in his dripping hair, trying desperately to pull him closer as you find yourself climbing that familiar peak. 

“Come on. Cum for me, baby,” He mutters into your cunt. The hand massaging your thigh drops suddenly. You immediately miss the warmth, but the disappointment leaves you when you feel his fingers come to circle your entrance. Two beautifully thick fingers push into you, massaging your gummy inner walls. You squeeze tightly against them, only serving to encourage your partner. Marcus fingers you faster, and you can feel yourself falling over the edge. You let out a blissful scream as your orgasm comes washing over you, Marcus only slowing his pace to help ease you down.

VI always made you so messy with her hands. Your legs would drape over her shoulders, and she would have wrapped one hand tightly around your neck and used that to brace herself as she fucked you onto her strap. Vi would use her free fingers on your mouth. She would stare you down and shove them to the back of your throat, watching as drool spills from the corners of your mouth and down your chest. If VI didn’t feel like playing with your throat, she simply would let you suck on her fingers like they were candy as she fucks you. If Vi felt playful, she would push to see how far back her fingers could go before you gagged. She loved making you deepthroat her fingers while she fucked you.

Every once in a while, she would remove her slobbery fingers from your mouth and slap you across the face, making you even messier. She would sometimes remove the strap briefly to replace it with her fingers, pumping in and out of you rapidly, with the sole purpose of covering you in all your juices. When she shoves the strap back into, she also shoves her finger back into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself as she continues to fuck you.

Sevika uses one hand to pin your tiny wrists behind your back as she fucks you onto her strap. She’s using them as an anchor, if anything, so she doesn’t have to use both hands to hold your hips. Her other hand is, of course, preoccupied with lighting a cigarillo. As she fucks you, ashes are falling on you. Sevika’s careful not to let the embers burn you (unless you’re into that sort of thing). Occasionally, while she’s exhaling smoke, she’ll take her fingers and carefully trace lines down your back, the tip of her cigarillo threatening to burn you, causing you to clench tightly around her. She always laughs and teases you for it. She loves to play mind games. Always threatening to hurt you in the worst ways, riling you up, making your heart race and your pussy clench, but never actually going through with it unless you begged her. 

If you liked pain, Sevika wouldn’t hesitate to indulge in your pain. Especially if she just left a frustrating meeting with Silco or she had just got home from a mission gone awry because of something Jinx did. She’d fuck you without a care for your pain or pleasure, only the opportunity to blow off some steam. Sevika wouldn’t bother to ash her cigarillo, letting ashes and hot ember fall onto your ass and the small of your back. As it did, you would squirm and shriek, and your pussy walls would clench tighter around her. She would slap your ass, tell you to be good, and take what she's giving you, adding to the tears that fall down your cheeks.

He hired you hoping his workload would lessen, yet somehow that backfired on him entirely. There’s a certain softness and warmth that you’ve got that’s rare in the undercity. You would greet every customer with a smile and promise to attend to their needs as soon as possible. Regulars knew they could come rant to you, and you would genuinely listen. And despite the influx of customers, no one was ever waiting too long. Food was served hot and ready, and the drinks were always ice cold. Anyone you served left feeling cared for and loved.

How you survived relatively unscathed by the undercity for so long will remain a mystery. You weren’t without the usual scratches and bruises one was subject to from the undercity. You’re an orphan like most, but let's be honest, if you weren’t an orphan in this economy, your parents might’ve sold you otherwise.

 You were a cute kid, so for most of your childhood, people would give you their scraps in return for small services, mostly errands like deliveries or small cleaning services. As you aged, you found a good mom in Babette at the brothel. She never let you be a working girl- she forbade it. Insisting she didn’t want that life for you and that you were too innocent for that kind of work anyway.

 So for a while, you would just work the front desk at the brothel, and growing up, that was more than enough. You would rent rooms and pleasure to the men and women of Zuan and Piltover alike. The only issue was you were never in a position to make connections with people, and you never would be if you had stayed there. The customers at the brothel weren’t there to make connections, and if they were, they weren’t with the desk attendant. As you got older and gained more control over your life and a sense of the undercity, you started looking for different jobs. Lo-and-behold now you find yourself working for Vander at the Last Drop. You still live with Babette; with the undercity how it is, there wasn’t anywhere else for you to go. She remains the present mother figure in your life, and you’re on fantastic terms.

Though, as much as you would like it to be, your employment at the Last Drop wasn’t coincidental. You would never know though, that Babette went to Vander as soon as you told her you were looking for a new job. She knew he was looking to hire some help, and he owed her a favor. He didn’t think it’d be so bad- he initially thought maybe she was doing him a favor. You had an outstanding work ethic, and you completed all tasks promptly. How wrong he was.

Vander realized quickly that your soft naivety would be your downfall if he didn’t intervene. Your softness attracted people, and there were hardly any good-intentioned people in the undercity. People would come and share the vaguest sob stories, and you would show them the same compassion every time. You would offer them a warm drink and sometimes even a hug. Vander knew the ones who asked for hugs only ever had ill intentions. They only wanted to feel you up, but he never had the heart to tell you they were creeps. Vander adored the empathy and compassion you offered everyone, and you weren’t completely unaware. So he would intervene when customers held on for too long, or customers got too handsy. 

Tonight nothing had happened so far- it was just as busy as the other nights were. Most of the tables were full of people playing cards, making illegal trades, eating- any underground activity you could name someone was probably doing. You were setting drinks you had just made on a tray to take to a table on the floor. Your shift had just started, and you were feeling pretty good. 

“I’m gonna take this to table 3,” You shout over all the bar ruckus. Somehow, you were balancing the tray of drinks in the palm of your hand.  

“You got it?” Vander asked, nodding towards the large tray of drinks that wobbled haphazardly in your hand. 

“Yep!” You give him a reassuring smile that did nothing to reassure him (he wouldn’t tell you that) before going on your way towards the table. 

The table was a group of younger-looking men who wore leather and tight black clothes. They had various melee weapons in the form of spiked bats and metal batons, which wasn’t uncommon for most people in the undercity. They were probably a part of the various gangs that made up Zaun.

 They got rowdy and erupted in cheers as soon as they noticed you carrying their drinks. That also wasn’t uncommon- the group would likely get louder the more they drank. Plenty of other groups came in every night, drinking together and looking for a good time. You didn’t mind if everyone was having fun- if they were happy, so were you.

“Alrighty, lads! The pretty lady has finally returned with our drinks!” you couldn’t tell who shouted, but you laughed along with them and set down their drinks one by one as they erupted into laughter and cheers. 

“Is there anything else I can get you?” You ask after everyone has what they ordered. 

Your eyes made rounds through the group but ultimately ended up on the man seated closest to you. He had a round head with a pointed chin, his face was decorated with piercings, and his eyes protruded from his face in a way that made him look wide awake. On his scalp rested a spiked mohawk. The tips were colored hot pink, and the rest of it faded to black. 

He gave you a toothy grin, “Are you on the menu?”

 The way he was slurring his words, you could tell he was at least a little tipsy. His buddies were as well. The other men start cheering for him like dogs as if he actually said something important. 

Thinking drunk-flirty customers were just a part of the job, you were ready to ignore what he said when his hand came down hard against your behind. He squeezed your flesh tightly in the palm of his hand, groping your ass. You shrieked loudly on impact, more startled by the fact that he had his hands on you than anything. 

Vander had witnessed this all and was ready to jump the counter and rip the man to shreds when the slamming of the front door halted everyone in the establishment. You, the man with a handful of your ass, his table, everyone- stopped what they were doing to look at who entered. 

A tall brutish woman with broad shoulders, someone you recognized as one of Vander’s regulars (meaning: only he was allowed to serve her when she was there), had walked through the door and stood at the entrance. If you recall correctly, her name was Sevika.

You also had faint memories of Sevika frequenting the brothel. She would ignore you and go straight to Babette's office before one of the working girls came and took her back to their rooms. Babette had many friends who did this, so you never thought anything of her visits. Babette did it to cover any activity topsiders might come to question her about concerning customers. 

Sevika locked eyes with you immediately. The table you were waiting on was closest to the door. She instantly looked you up and down and noticed that as she did, the man holding you had quickly removed his hand. By then, it was too late. She had put two and two together and recognized that whatever was happening wasn’t consensual. 

“Hmph,” she grunted, approaching the table. Her boots made a heavy impact on the floor as she neared, and the sound her boot’s made sent waves and waves of vibrations through you. You squeezed the tray you were holding closer to your body. 

“What do you think you're doing?” Sevika snarled slowly, nearly walking through you to get to the man who had just assaulted you. 

“B-Boss, I-I-I-I w-was just-“ The poor man looked as if he shit himself. It didn’t help that he was too frightened to speak. His buddies, who were laughing with him a second ago, looked as though they had seen a ghost. They were actively choosing to look anywhere but towards him and Sevika. 

“I’ve decided I don’t care what your excuse is,” she spoke, and without hesitation, she took the man's face in her hand and lifted him from his seat. His chair fell back, and his drink spilled. The man began thrashing like a fish in her hold.

 He started pleading, begging her to let go, that he was sorry, but she didn’t listen. Sevika squeezed her hand, breaking something and halting his resistance before she threw his body out the door. 

The only sign the man was still alive afterward was the meek string of whimpers he allowed to release shortly after. 

You couldn’t help but wince. While you were grateful someone came to help you, part of you really hoped that man wasn’t going to die. Little did you know, had Sevika chosen to ignore that man, Vander likely would have killed him. 

“The regular, sweetheart,” Sevika grunted, again walking through you to get past you, nearly knocking you on your ass as she went. “And make sure you bring it to the booth yourself.”

You look from her to Vander, who watched this all unfold, completely flabbergasted, as she disappears into her usual booth. Something about her voice made you want to do everything she asked, but you knew there had to be a reason only Vander or Babette ever worked with her. It was only fair to want to seek out permission before moving forward.

To your surprise, Vander began making her drink with an unreadable, solemn look on his face. 

A somber “Just try not to say too much- anything happens, I’m right here, ” and a pitiful smile was all he had to offer you before you were again on your way. This time, the tray you carried stood adorned with two glasses, one empty and one with a large ice cube and some water. A dainty bowl of orange slices and an ornate bottle of distilled spirits sat with a drink sieve and a stirring spoon. 

“G-Good Evening,” You don’t remember it being so hard to speak before. 

“Hmph,” She was shuffling a deck of playing cards back and forth between her large hands. She doesn’t look up from the playing cards at all. You decide just to set the glass and bottle in front of her on the table. Your hands tremble the entire time you’re doing this.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” you try to put a smile on your face without looking scared or forced but suspect you fail miserably. 

When she finally looks up from the cards, her eyes rake slowly up your body in a way that’s almost predatorial. You feel as though she’s going to eat you alive. A shiver runs down your spine. She then looks at the glasses and back at you almost expectantly- you’re shaken by this immediately. Did you forget something? Was this not what Vander did when giving her her beverages? It wasn’t this tension brewing between the two of you that was the reason as to why you weren’t allowed around her, right? Was it like this with everyone she encountered? 

“Are you not going to come and pour me a glass,” she pats the leather seat next to her like a cat owner does when calling their cat to them. Except this was slower and more seductive, a clear trap, even to you.

“I-I have other tables that need t-tending. I-It would be rather rude of me to leave them abruptly,” You try to decline politely, on the technicality that it was, in parts, a self-serve drink. You couldn’t explain why but something felt dangerous about crawling into the booth with Sevika. Something was screaming at you that it wouldn’t be a good idea. 

“You don’t want to?” her deep voice was so enticing. You watched her dark lips as they moved. Sevika, in reality, wasn’t really doing that much to convince you, and already there was a spell over you. “I see you sit and chat with people all the time. Did I do something wrong? Is there something wrong with-“

“No! Nononononono, there’s nothing wrong with you,” you quickly interrupt, refusing to let her finish the sentence. 

In the grand scheme of things, you were so easy for Sevika to trap. You froze halfway through, realizing what you were doing, but by that point, it was too late. You were in the booth with her. Her hand grasped your wrist, giving you an idea of how much bigger she was than you as she pulled you in to sit next to her. Your little heart was about to beat right out of your chest any minute. You weren’t sure why. You'd never been in a situation like this before.

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem pouring me a glass, should you?” She whispered. Her face was now less than an inch away from yours. She was towering over you by at least another head. An almost sadistic smirk that told you she was aware of everything she was currently doing to you found its way to her face.

 You swallow hard, unable to find a viable excuse, you mumble, “No, not at all.”

“Good, good” she looks down at you through half-closed lids, keeping that same smirk she gestures with her head towards the glass, urging you to pour her a drink. 

Realizing you hadn’t breathed at all within the last minute, you didn’t need her to tell you twice. You quietly inhaled as you sat up, savoring the sweet oxygen that filled your lungs as you reached for the bottle of spirits. 

Your hands were terribly shaky, and you were keenly aware she was monitoring you as you poured. This pour could hardly be called  “clean,” several drops of the spirit spilled as you brought the neck of the bottle to the edge of the empty cup. You filled a third of the glass with the liquor before precariously setting the beautiful bottle back down with a harsh ‘thud.’ 

You then reach for the sieve and the cup with water. The metal clangs unceremoniously against the cup as you pour water into the other glass filling it another third of the way. The liquor becomes a milky white as you pour in the water. Finally, you set the sieve down and use the stirring spoon carefully to drop the remaining ice cube into the glass. You then stir the drink once, twice, and then three times before deeming your work done.

“Give it here,” her voice was deep and thick like honey, and you were drowning in every bit of it. 

“O-Okay.” you do as she says, pulling the glass towards the two of you, scared to use your shaky hands to lift it. 

When she takes it, she purposefully brushes her hand against yours, and your heart flutters- you think maybe it has begun palpitating.  

“The oranges,” she motions with her left hand, and you lean over to pull them closer. There was no way for you to do this without leaning a little into her lap. 

The overwhelming sense of danger was still very present, yet something else you couldn’t name was beginning to smother that feeling. A particular warmth had settled in the pit of your stomach, and you couldn’t help but want to explore it a little more. 

“Hmm, good girl,” She hums. Your brain nearly melts, unused to the form of praise you were getting. 

You could safely confirm: she definitely didn’t treat Vander like this. The way she was behaving put you back in the brothel- except instead of being behind the protective glass of the front desk, you were in the place of one of the girls that would bring her back to their rooms. 

Sevika would walk with the girls, one of her beautifully muscular arms wrapped tightly around their waist as they went together. The girls would giggle obnoxiously, and Sevika would have a playful smirk on her lips as she trailed kisses up and down their necks. 

You quickly got lost in imagining yourself dressed in one of the beautiful but skimpy outfits the girls would wear, dragging Sevika back to your room, that same playful smirk decorating her face as she ghosted kissed all along the sweet spots on your neck. 

You could suddenly vividly remember the screams of pleasure the thin walls at the brothel did little to conceal. It would go on for hours and hours, and in the days following, the girls would walk around with a wobbly pep to their step and brag to the others about how good she had fucked them.

 You were so enamored by the fantasy playing out in your head that you failed to notice she brought the glass, drenched in condensation to her lips.

“Ahh,” she swallowed, bringing you back to reality, as she set her drink on the table. 

You watched with doe eyes as one of her thick hands moved to pick up an orange slice and bring it to her mouth. You felt so dizzy, and she was literally just enjoying her drink. 

The wet noise that departs from her mouth as she chews into the orange made you want her mouth elsewhere. Your mind was reeling, you’d go crazy if this went on any longer, but it didn’t look like anyone was going to come to your rescue anytime soon. A brief glance at Vander showed he was currently preoccupied with customers because of the earlier display. Everyone wanted to be served by him to avoid getting in Sevika’s way.

“Vander did well by hiring you,” Her sultry voice brings your attention back to her. Not that she had ever really lost it. Sevika had discarded the orange peel and took the glass in her hand again.  

“You pour a good drink, sweetheart,” she affirms. 

She brings the glass to her lips, sipping more of the liquid. Except Sevika doesn’t swallow when she sets the glass down this time. Instead, she uses her left hand to pick up another orange slice and cups your face in her right. Everything was moving in slow motion for you. You could hear your heart beating loudly in your ears, you worried she might be able to hear it.

She’s now towering over you, and her face starts closing in on yours. You now had a pretty clear picture of what was happening, but that didn’t stop you from gasping when her lips met yours. It offered Sevika the perfect opportunity to spill the cool liquid into your mouth. The liquid had an intense earthy, licorice flavor. Without a second thought, you swallowed and savored the bitter drink as it burned your throat on the way down. 

Before you knew it, her lips left yours, and the sweet flesh of the orange was on your lips. You took it graciously, allowing the juice to soothe the burning in your throat, all while she still held your face in her hand.

“Mmh,” Your eyes flutter, and you moan into the fruit as she feeds it to you.

You don’t get it as clean as she got hers, but she had other plans for it anyways. Without breaking eye contact, she looks at you through her own lashes as she takes the remaining orange into her mouth. 

“How was that?” She asked, setting down the clean peel. 

“G-Good,” You nervously swallow, barely managing to sputter out words. “It was good.” 

The smirk she had turned into a shit-eating grin. Whether it be the liquor or because she had just kissed you, a dopey smile showed on your face to mirror hers. 

“I’m glad,” Her thumb came to wipe excess juice from the side of your lip. “Quality control is good once in a while, isn’t it?” 

“Mmhm,” You’re eager to agree with whatever she says. 

She laughs at you. Your cheeks feel hot, and your stomach fills with butterflies even though you’re pretty sure she’s making fun of you. 

“Look at that,” You can’t, you’re too busy looking at her to care about whatever that is. She is looking past you and towards the bar. “Your boss is checkin’ in on you? Huh? How sweet.” 

She cleared her throat and nudged your side, which woke you up a little, at least enough to look up and over at the bar with her. Vander was indeed looking on with a hard unreadable look on his face. Suddenly, you were very aware of what was going on and that not only was this not an appropriate place to be doing, well, whatever this is, you were also at work. This was not the time for drinking or making out with customers.

“I-I’m sorry, I have to go.” 

“No, wait.”

You try to pull away from her, and when she doesn’t let go, all noise in the bar ceases. Vander had loudly dropped the kitchen towel that naturally rested on his shoulder onto the bar counter, halting all movement in the bar. A blatant warning, if you'd ever seen one. 

Sevika only paid him a glance before looking back to you. Her other hand reached behind her quickly. She pulled out a coin purse. 

“Are you gonna leave without a tip? Hmm?”

She let go of your face to open the purse, and you let out a deep breath. 

“Oh no!? You really don’t have to,” You try to say, but she has none of it. Sevika takes one of your smaller hands into hers and drops several gold coins into your hand. 

Closing her hand around yours, she says, “I insist.” 

You can’t say no to her.

“Now, get back to work,” She chuckles, looking past you again and towards Vander. “Before your boss comes around here and starts a fight.” 

You don't need her to tell you twice- You’re out of there in a heartbeat. Your shaky legs had barely found safely behind the bar when the men who played cards with Sevika had already begun squawking her table. You tried to lean against the counter for support, but Vander quickly ushered you through the doors that led to his family’s living quarters. 

“Are you okay? What did she do to ya? Goddamnit, I knew I shouldn’t have sent you over there.” His large hands found your shoulders as soon as you passed the threshold of what appeared to be an empty common area for his kids. He examined you for any physical harm or any severe distress. 

“I-I’m okay, she just asked me to pour her the d-drink that’s all,” You stutter, conveniently leaving out the fact that she kissed you. If Vander hadn’t seen what happened, for right now, you didn’t want to worry him by telling him what happened. Even if he knew you were lying, he wouldn’t push you to expose what happened if you didn’t want to. 

He sighed. Oh, he definitely knew you were lying. “Alright.”

“Do you think you can work for the rest of your shift?” He asked. “You don’t have to go have to either of those tables tonight if you don’t want to.” He gave you a look that told you he understood if you didn’t want to go back to work tonight after all that had happened. 

“I think I can,” You offer him your usual sweet smile. It’s contagious, and soon, he's smiling as well.

“Okay, hun, take your time coming back to work. We got plenty of customers waiting for you to come back,” He chuckled, letting you have a few minutes alone before you returned to your shift.

Sevika had purchased a larger room this time. 

The unlikely splurging must have added to the overwhelming display of power for tonight’s scenario. It had been your request and Sevika was always down to experiment with her extracurricular activities.

She donned a suit tonight, finely threaded wool that was no doubt soft to the touch, fitting casually across the generous swell of her breasts before tapering to her waist. The muscles of her thigh pressed against her dress pants in a slight bulge. Her shoes were those of her usual boots, only nicer and spiffed up for the occasion. She had decided to forgo an undershirt, apparent by the visual offered from her open blazer. 

The eye watering sight was what had gotten you into trouble. You couldn’t draw your gaze away from her chest-or the teasing sight of a hard nipple when she shifted ever so slightly- in time to respond swift enough to her commands.

A blindfold now shielded your vision, only heightening your senses to her ministrations that consisted of a set of clamps around your nipples, connected to a chain that she held languidly in her fingertips to control. Her other hand contained her usual alcoholic beverage that stimulated your hearing, the sloshing liquid diminishing until she needed to call in one of the workers for a refill. 

Kneeling. On your knees before her for nothing but her satisfaction, for her eyes to appreciate your figure that’s desperate for anything she’d give you. Time passes painstakingly slow, only serving to let her wicked mind concoct more ways to defile you.

She had kept you here long enough to need three refills and three times your naked body was under the appraisal of someone other than her. She had asked their thoughts on you the first time.

“Beautiful, aren’t they? You can look.” Your snort at her irritated addition earned you a tug on the chain. A round of chuckles at your strangled cry made your cheeks burn. “What did I tell you about that attitude?”

You should have known that she’d expect you to answer her while gagged.

“Keep it to myself,” is what you tried to say, but it came out slowly and more garbled than intended. Thankfully it was enough for her, if the relief of the chain going lax was anything to go by.

“Good girl.” Her fingers ran through your hair briefly at your desperate little whine. “Get out.”

Your brain stalled until you heard the scampering of footsteps that announced the worker’s departure. The first time you were on display you had blushed horribly, heat stretching from your chest to the top of your ears, but you had sat there obediently and were so good she had rewarded you with detailed compliments about your body under the guise of a review to the worker.

Uncouth comments that involved what she thought about doing to you. How pretty that mouth would look around her. How it wailed when she had hers on your weeping cunt, slutty little moans telling the whole brothel who you belonged to. How those tempting eyes would fill with tears as they struggled to breathe yet obediently kept their focus on hers. How those pretty thighs would rut against her strap until they failed, and how you would cry and whine when she told you to keep going.

A dull ache had settled in your muscles from the kneeling and the position of your arms tied behind your back, making you thankful she made you stretch beforehand. Various poses that opened your hips and warmed up unsuspecting muscles were under her soft, yet thorough observation. She never let you half-ass it either, always having a hand on your back to keep you down until her experienced brawler brain was satisfied.

“Hey.” You sit up a little, at attention for her slow, stern tone. “You’re gonna let momma play a little. And you’re gonna be good and do what I say, right?”

You do your best to answer her verbally, supplementing your shortcomings with a nod.

“Good girl.” Her lips press against your ear as she leans forward, chasing as you squirm away from her hot breath while she fiddles with something behind you. ”You’re on a roll today.”

A slick prod at your hole had you lifting your hips with a mewl, only to be held in place by a firm hand on your shoulder, defenseless against the one that guided the tip of a lubed toy just inside.

“Again, what do you do if you need a break?” Two snaps sounded from your bound hand and you were rewarded again with a dizzying, “Very good.”

The chain connected to your nipples went taut as she leaned back into her seat. Your breath hitched as you strained your thighs, seeking that relief on your chest while withdrawing from the one between your thighs. The air is hot, slowly heating the more your muscles work and the way your core grips the head of the toy to keep it inside of you.

A distraction. Gods, a distraction is what you need. The only sense you can count on is hearing, but your ears pick up the lazy sips of alcohol by those scarred, luscious lips that were on you just an hour ago-

You jerk upright just as your hips develop a mind of their own and tilt down to indulge your greedy cunt.

“Not thinking about disobeying me, are you?” 

A furious shake of your head, accentuated with whimpers as the chain slowly goes rigid. It’s an effort to keep from heaving in breaths. The clamps on your nipples are pulled tight enough just on the edge of bearable, toeing that line with each shaky exhale. 

Minutes passed before she gave another order and suddenly the pressure disappeared altogether. “Down.” Slowly, your thighs lowered you until you slid down at an easy pace, adjusting to the slight burn until you were able to sit completely down. Sevika let you stay there until you were dying to move again, the fullness now nothing but pleasure as you leaked onto the floor.

You almost lost yourself to the feeling, almost forgot who you belonged to. The harsh reminder came in the form of a stinging pull on your nipples, prompting you to rise until the toy was yet again just barely inside.

“You know better, stop whining.” The clink of ice painted the picture in your mind; Sevika relaxed into the cushions, drinking an ungodly amount that would have anyone drunk off their ass by now, appraising your high-strung form from her lax position.

Cruel woman. Pushing you to your limits until you’re so close to breaking but then she’s there, miraculously putting you back together with just her mere presence. How she coos into your hair that she knows, baby, she knows it hurts, but you’re being so good, aren’t you? How good you make her feel, trusting her like this, letting her give you what you need, what you’ve been craving ever since she strolled into your life and left ruin in her wake. Sevika promised she’d put you back together again, ingraining some well needed discipline to make you her perfect little toy.

The subconscious protests seized as you finally relinquished control and entrusted her to handle your needs.

The blissful trance had you obeying her repeated commands for what felt like hours. Every time she pulled you up, she made you hold the position for longer until you were ordered to beg around the gag.

“Close your eyes, baby.” Fabric lifted from your forehead and you opened your eyes slowly to adjust to the muted light. A desperate whine came from around the gag as you saw Sevika had opened her blazer wider to fondle her breasts. “Eyes up here, you naughty thing.”

You now had to watch her admire your tied-up, shaking figure, dripping on the floor. The vulgar sight she drank in like it was her favorite entertainment.

“You look beautiful.” Sevika snarked, absentmindedly tugging the chain lightly as she watched your brows pinch. “Think you deserve to cum? Beg for it.”

Tears of frustration welled in your eyes as you began begging around the gag, the words inaudible to even your own ears. Her sarcastic, “What’s that, baby?” had you sucking in a breath to try again, humiliating yourself until she got her fill and leaned back with a smirk. She broke eye contact with you, mercifully, and trailed her gaze down to your slick thighs.

The tip was just barely inside, torturously teasing your desperate hole until you were clenching to keep it there. 

“Down.” The pressure on your chest eased slightly as Sevika leaned forward, granting you more leeway.

An embarrassingly loud, grateful moan accompanied your muffled ‘thank you’ as you sank down. You were maybe about half way before the chain jerked, dragging a yelp out of you. “Slowly.” The word had a musical tone in it, confirming her sadistic pleasure, if you ever had any doubt, of seeing you desperate and denied at her mercy.

As slow as you could manage, your shaking thighs eased yourself down until the toy was buried to the hilt. An experimental roll of your hips, and when you weren’t reprimanded you went at it, humping against the ground and whining like a bitch in heat, as Sevika liked to call you. Your thighs collected more of your arousal, a steady trickle as you hit that soft spot over and over and over. It pressed against that place that made you see stars and a few more slow grinds would do you in.

“Up.” 

The word had the same effect of a bucket of ice water being poured on you. Your grinds came to a slow, pitiful stop after a few moments too long. Incoherent whines and pleads did nothing to suede her and only earned you a sharp tug that had tears welling in your eyes. “I said, up.”

Your thighs burned and cramped as you raised yourself off of the toy, chasing the relief of the clamps as she raised the chain until all that remained inside you was the tip. Endless whimpers voiced your protest about the strain of your legs. A brush of fingers against your shaky thigh had you jerking before a tug reprimanded you. Sevika got up from her chair to crouch in front of you. She caressed your quivering thighs, mirth in her voice as she teased you.

“So weak.”

That finger trailed further up, easily sliding against your arousal and making your struggle just that much worse. Her piercing gray eyes found yours when her face was about a hairbreadth away from your pained one. A soothing caress of her nose against yours ended with a kiss to your cheek and then she leaned back out of your space, taking her place on the seat before you.

When Sevika was fully sated on your suffering, she dropped the chain. The cool metal against your chest had you flinching but you quickly set into motion at her next words.

“Go on.”

No longer supported by your thighs, you sat down hard, moaning and grinding as you chased your pleasure.

“Eyes on me when you cum.”

Your gaze found her heated one in fear of being denied release. The cocky smirk had you whining as you came, fluttering lids barely held open as you struggled to keep eye contact.

Your thighs finally gave out and all you could do was sit there, aftershocks rolling through you as you jerked slightly when the toy kept brushing against your sensitive walls.

“C’mere.” Gently, Sevika lifted you off and set you in her lap. Soreness in your jaw ebbed as she removed the gag, using her fingers to massage your spit-covered chin. “Feeling alright, babygirl?”

Gone was the menacing, teasing tone and in its stead was pure adoration. You gave her a tired smile, remembering how she told you it was her favorite sight to see after one of your sessions. A palm engulfed your head as you nuzzled against her bare chest, playing with your hair in the way that calmed you as you nodded.

“Yeah. I can keep going. Yes, I’m sure.” You cut off her routine, worried inquiries and earned yourself a raised brow. Perhaps not the best idea, but a brazen one still.

You were removed from her chest vibrating with chuckles and set on the ground by her feet. 

Sevika unbuttoned her pants, keeping eye contact as she pushed them down her hips enough to leave herself bare. “Then tell me thank you.”

Soft, slick folds caress your face as you feast. The plush of her thigh cushions your cheek, merciful in your exhaustion. A hand on the back of your head pushes you down until your face is slick with her pleasure.

“Damn you’re a mess.” 

Hypocrite, she is. Her pupils are blown wide, mouth open and panting, hard nipples heaving with haggard breaths. Those gray eyes are telling in their destruction, undone by the sight of you kneeling before her, face covered in her arousal, utterly worn out but still eager to please your mistress. 

With the last bit of energy you have, you throw your leg over her foot, sinking down onto her boot. The growl she releases sends a shiver down your spine and you don’t know if it’s because you paused your ministrations on her clit or it’s at the sight of you humping her leg. 

It must be the latter because her stare is intensely focused on the way you drag your clit across the laces. And maybe you throw in unnecessary whines and grunts to really sell it because the sight is more for her than it is you.

“You little brat.” Teeth bared, Sevika angles her toe up and okay, maybe the moans are a little more real this time. “So fucking needy. Can’t even thank me properly for letting you cum before humping my leg like a dog.”

Her teeth bares in that heart-stopping snarl at your giggle and then she’s pulling your face back to her cunt by your hair.

“Insolent. Insubordinate. Coy little brat. The last time I’m being nice-” The angry musings would be a little terrifying if she wasn’t cumming in your mouth, dragging your face against her until she’s rode out her pleasure.

You admire the way her teeth clench before relaxing her shapely lips into a cute little ‘o’, those harsh scowl lines easing as she throws her head back and groans. Her eyes remain bleary, drunk on bliss- and perhaps a little drunk from alcohol- until she finds your cheeky gaze.

“Beautiful.” You croon, wincing a bit as you’re lifted once more into her lap. Your protests are ignored as she gently pulls your legs out from under you.

“C’mon, stretch for me.” With the help of her hand, your leg is extended until the burn in your thigh lessens.

“Ow, ow-”

“I know, I know. Was it too much?”

You’re back to appreciating her again, too starstruck to answer. Those blue scars are vibrant in her afterglow, matching her flushed cheeks. Several pieces of her hair have come down from her usual updo, silently asking your fingers to tug them until she barks at you to knock it off.

“Hey, answer me. Was it too- knock it off, you brat.”

Called it.