Life? Never heard of em

SCARAMOUCHE

✮ in his lap, with your back against his chest, his hand around your throat

Your hand is on top of Scara's, out of instinct. His other hand is between your legs, two fingers circling your clit in a rhythm that's making your thighs shake. He's inside you, but he isn't moving, just letting you feel the way he fills you with his cock seated so deep inside. Your squirming causes you to grind on him, and his hand on your throat tightens. "Did I tell you to move?" You try to stop your movements, and he doesn't even give you a break as he rubs your clit faster. Your squirming gets worse, your body clearly trying to chase something his cock won't give you. You shift your hips up again, involuntarily, desperate, and he finally snaps his hips up, one brutal thrust that makes you drop back onto him. He holds you there, grinds in, your vision going spotty. "That's what you wanted, isn't it? You couldn't even wait.. pathetic."

✮ collar and leash...

He fucks into you roughly, his grip on the chain keeping your back arched at the angle he wants, and every time you drop your head, he yanks the leash until your chin lifts back up. "Head up. I want to hear you. Don't you dare hide in the pillow." At some point, as expected, you do collapse face down, your entire body trembling. Instead of yanking you back up, he puts his foot on the back of your head. He's still inside, grinding into you with his foot, pressing your face into the sheets. Your moans sound just as pathetic as before, just... muffled now. "You're so well trained, I barely even had to teach you."

✮ vibrating cat tail

You're face down with your wrists and ankles cuffed to a spreader bar that keeps your legs apart. The vibrating plug he put inside you has been going for long enough that your hips are twitching on their own. You can't move, can't close your legs, you can't even think properly. And he's just sitting beside you on the bed with a brush in his hand, writing on your skin. You feel the tip of the marker drag across your ass. You can't see what he's writing, but you can feel how slow he's going, how precise each stroke is. 散兵のマゾ. He tells you to "Hold still," when your hip jerks at the dot. He adds a small heart next to whatever he wrote as a cute little addition. "You know what it says?" You shake your head into the pillow, and he leans down, his lips near your ear. "It says you belong to me, in case you forget." He turns the plug up in vibration, and you forget everything except for his voice and the marker moving against your skin once again. (yes i changed the japanese lettering cuz i couldn't translate that girls ass for shitz... leave me ALONE)

✮ clit jewelry

He had the jewelry commissioned, made perfectly for you. (If you're a silver girly, imagine he got that for you instead) Gold chains that loop around your hips and between your thighs, and a small gemstone that dangles from the connecting chain. It was expensive, barely made a dent, he's a harbinger after all. He's lying between your legs, one hand on your inner thigh, the other tracing the chains with his fingertip, watching how your clit swells through the ring the more he touches around it. "Pretty." His finger circles your clit slowly through the ring, and the beaded chain sways with every movement. He strokes, circles, and flicks, watching you squirm, watching the gemstone dangle between your legs. "I should make you wear this under your clothes. Walk around with my jewelry on your cunt, and nobody would know except me." His thumb presses directly onto your clit, and the gemstone presses with it. "and you."

✮ tied up

Your ankles are tied and pulled back toward your head, your thighs spread and bound, ropes around your torso and arms holding you open and vulnerable, with your hips elevated. Moving is impossible, and that is the point. He smacks you across your ass, then again, and again. Your skin changes colors faster than a mood ring, pink, to red, to dark red. He squeezes the marked flesh between his fingers, spreading you open, keeping you on full display for him. You're wet enough that he doesn't need to ease in, one thumb in your cunt, the other in your ass, pressing inside you. He brings in the wand vibrator eventually, pressing it against your clit with a pressure that's too much. You jerk against the ropes, but the ropes don't give... he doesn't either. He holds it there while he spanks you, while his fingers work inside you, watching how you crumble. "You don't get to cum. Not until I say you can."

WANDERER

✮ mid-term exams at the Akademiya are over, and he can finally give you the attention you've been craving

He's on the floor with his back against the mattress, and you're in his lap. He kisses you the way he's been thinking about it for seven days straight, and when you stand up, he doesn't let you leave. His mouth finds your thigh, your hip, and then he's pressing his face against you through the fabric like he's starving. You push the fabric aside, and his mouth is on you like an apology he'll never verbalize. He eats you out standing up, your fingers in his hair, your legs shaking around his head, and when your knees give, he catches you, pulls you down, and kisses the taste of you back into your own mouth. "Missed you," he says into the kiss.

✮ the position he's in after you begged him to, and he agreed only because you promised it would "feel good."

He's flat on his back, knees up, his cock lying heavy on his stomach while the device you convinced a Fontaine engineer to build drills into him at a pace that you control. You're sitting on his face because sitting and watching is boring, and why not waste an opportunity to put his mouth to good use? Every time you turn the dial up, his mouth vibrates through your cunt hard enough that your thighs 'accidentally' clamp over his face. "Fuck… slow it… ngh… slow it down, I didn't say you could-" You turn it up, just for that, and he bites your thigh in retaliation. You don't hesitate to turn it up higher. His hips lift off the bed, his cock twitches against his stomach, and the sound he makes is so desperate that you almost feel bad... but not enough as you dial it up 3 more levels.

✮ he's taking his time between your legs

He's lying flat on his stomach between your thighs, his arms hooked under your legs, his hands resting on your hips. He's not rushing because your reactions are too entertaining to skip through. His eyes are fixed between your legs, watching the way your cunt clenches around nothing every time his tongue hits the right spot. The muscles tighten, release, tighten again, a visible flutter that he can see, and his mouth curves against your clit. "Look at that, you're clenching so hard, and there's not even anything inside you." His tongue flicks across your clit again, and he watches your hole pulse in response. "That's adorable... You're so desperate for something to squeeze on, and all you're getting is my tongue."

✮ you talked back to him in front of the other Akademiya scholars. this is punishment

You're at your vanity, touching up your makeup for your next class, when Wanderer picks you up and throws you onto the bed. You mistake it for him playing around, so you let out a giggle that dies down once you realize what he's really in here for. You still had your makeup brush in your hand, and he uses that as the main tool for the punishment. The soft bristles trace the inside of your thigh, barely even touching you, and your leg twitches anyway. He drags it up higher, your hips shifting as he does, and he draws slow circles on your clothed clit with the brush tip, the soft fibers tickling in a way that's too light to actually get you off. "You're not allowed to move." You try, but it's hard when the brush keeps circling, feather-light, especially when the area between your thighs is so sensitive. "You're very quiet now..." Your body is twitching involuntarily, your clit swollen and aching for pressure that the brush won't give, and every time you shift your hips to chase friction, he pulls the brush away for three seconds before starting over. "I could do this for hours," he says, "and I will, until you learn that talking back has consequences that last longer than the conversation."

LOHEN

✮ you lost a sparring match and the penalty is whatever he decides

You're on top of him, straddling his hips, facing him, and his cock is between your thighs. He's lying back with both arms behind his head, relaxed, like this is something he's watching happen to someone else. "Tighter. You're barely touching me." You press your thighs together, and the friction changes; his cock slides through the tighter space, and his hips roll up slightly, involuntarily, before he forces them back down. "Don't look smug," he says, even though you weren't. "You're the one on top of me doing thigh exercises for my entertainment. This isn't a win for you." He lets his arms drop from behind his head, his hands finding your hips, and he guides your grind faster, setting a pace that makes his cock slide between your thighs in a rhythm you can feel in your clit. His hips push up to meet your grind, and the pretense of boredom is cracking. "Fuck." His hands grip your hips harder, fingers digging in, and he cums between your thighs, spilling across the inside of your stockings and dripping down. "You should lose more often. And next time, I'm not letting you use your thighs."

✮ he doesn't use his hands like he's bored, like the girl on her knees with his cock in her throat isn't doing anything worth gripping for

He grinds his hips into your face in a rolling rhythm that pushes him across your tongue and into the back of your throat with each push, and the sounds you make around him are garbled. When his cock slips out, spit stringing between your lips and the head, he slaps you. It's a quick one, and, before you can even fully process the slap, he grabs the back of your skull with one hand, feeding himself back in, and his hand drops, hands-free again. "You stopped. I didn't say you could stop." He fucks into your mouth faster, one hand finally gripping the back of your head as he grinds deep, pulling out to stroke twice, and then feeding himself balls-deep, holding you there, your nose against his pelvis. He does this a couple of times before he lets you breathe. "Good prey." (ik its a mlm vid, but hush ur mouth HUSH.)

✮ he treats it like a game. you're the thing being chased

You try to crawl away from him, scrambling toward the headboard. Lohen laughs at you, his hand closing around your ankle and pulling. Your body slides across the sheets, and you try to kick, your free leg pushing against the mattress, but he's stronger, and he's not even trying. He drags you toward him with one arm like you weigh nothing. "Where are you going?" He sounds genuinely curious. "There's nowhere to go. The bed has four sides, and I'm on all of them." You try again, your leg twisting in his grip, and he lets you struggle for a few seconds because it's funny to him, before moving toward you, and dropping your ankle when he's between your legs, forcing them open around his hips. He's naked, fully, and you can feel his cock brush against your inner thigh as he settles. "You're running from me," he says, leaning over you, one hand finding your throat, "with your cunt this wet?" His cock drags against your folds as he shifts his weight, sliding through the slick, and the grin on his face gets bigger. "Your body's not very good at lying. Your mouth says stop, but down here?" He grinds his length against you, the head of his cock nudging your clit. "Down here is rolling out the welcome mat." He pulls you up by your throat, lifting you off the mattress, and you're in his lap, facing him, your bare thighs around his hips. His cock is pressed between your bodies, the heat of it against your stomach, and his free hand slides up your side, fingers finding the hem of your top. His hand leaves your throat and drops to your chest. He bites at your tit through the fabric, his teeth closing your nipple through cotton, tugging, and your back arches into him instead of away. He grins against the fabric, bites harder, and his other hand pulls the top up, bunching it above your breasts. He shoves you down, flat on your back, the mattress bouncing under you, and his hands strip your underwear off in one motion. He holds it up, looking at the wet spot, the soaked center of the fabric that's dark and visibly damp. "Look at this." He turns it so you can see. "You left a whole confession in your underwear, and you're still pretending you don't want this?" He brings the underwear to your mouth. You clamp your lips shut, turning your head, and he grabs your jaw with his free hand, squeezing the hinges until your mouth opens. He stuffs the fabric in, and you try to push it out with your tongue, tasting yourself, the salt and musk of your own arousal coating the cotton. He pushes it in further with his thumb, watching your tongue fight a battle it's losing, until the fabric sits behind your teeth and your protests are reduced to muffled sounds. "Much better." He lets go of your jaw. Eventually, the positions shift, and you end up on his chest, his arms around you, and his hand between your legs. He rubs your clit while his other hand finds your throat again, settling around it loosely. You can feel his cock against your lower back, hard and twitching every time you squirm against him. The underwear in your mouth muffles every sound into something garbled and pathetic, and you can feel your spit soaking through the fabric and dripping down the corner of your mouth. "You ran from me for about four seconds." His voice is in your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder, watching his own hand work between your legs. "Four. And now you're shaking in my lap, dripping through my fingers, with your own panties in your mouth." His fingers speed up, and your hips buck. "You may be the worst prey I've ever hunted, but you're the funniest."

(you can tell i got carried away... sorryz 👀)

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