#error writes

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Okay, please be nice, this was my first ever writing post. Its real rough and not reread, so sorry about that! Eeeeeeeeeeeek

Tagging everyone who added to the Christmas au so far, hope that's okay!

Wooden wheels on a cobblestone road. The sound ingrained itself in Iris’s mind. How long had they been on the road? Last she remembered, it had been dark, but the bright light nearly blinded her as she blinked her eyes open. Craning her stiff neck, she looked around and recognized these woods. She was almost home.

“Hey, you. You’re finally awake,” the young Stormcloak Nord across from her said, a small smile on his face. Iris vaguely remembered him from the skirmish - or, at least she thought she did. The whole mess was a blur. “Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.”

“Yeah, really stepped in it this time,” Iris huffed, tugging at her bindings.

“That’s putting it lightly!” the civilian Nord spat. “Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell.” He turned to Iris. “You and me, we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.”

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief,” the Stormcloak said.

“Shut up back there!” the guard driving the carriage shouted.

A brief silence fell over the prisoners. “What’s wrong with him, huh?” the thief hummed as he nodded to the man sitting beside Iris. Unlike the other prisoners, he wore neither rags nor a uniform, but a rich fur cloak and a gag around his mouth.

“Watch your tongue!” the Stormcloak scolded. “You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King.”

Iris’s eyes widened as she stared at the man. Never in her her life did she imagine she would be sitting next to royalty. If her instinct was right, however, this would be her last chance.

“Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm?” the horse thief stuttered. “You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

“I don’t know where we’re going,” the blond sighed, “but Sovngarde awaits.”

He and the thief continued to prattle on, but Iris didn’t listen to them. As the familiar buildings of Helgen rolled closer, Iris felt her heart race. Would Aunt Hellen be there? Would she get to say goodbye?

“This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here,” the Stormcloak mused. “Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in.”

“She is,” Iris replied, letting out a nervous smile. “I prefer her snowberry wine, but it's hard to find those around here.”

He chuckled. “Wish I could have tried it.” A pause followed as he gazed over the surrounding soldiers. “Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

Iris recognized the faces that began to gather around; she recognized friends she’d shared a drink with after a long day’s work; she recognized the little boy, Haming, who she once saved from drowning in the river. Mara’s mercy, a child shouldn’t have to watch an execution. The carriage suddenly jolted to a stop, knocking the four prisoners forward.

“Get these prisoners out of the cart!” the Imperial captain barked from the lead carriage. “Move it!”

“Why are we stopping?” The thief’s voice shook as he frantically looked about.

The soldier, however, kept a calm demeanor. “Why do you think? End of the line.” He stood. “Let’s go. Shouldn’t keep the gods waiting for us.”

“No! Wait!” he begged, climbing out of the cart. “We’re not rebels!”

“Face your death with some courage, thief.” The blond Nord rolled his eyes.

The thief didn’t listen, however, turning to Ulfric Stormcloak. “You’ve got to tell them! We weren’t with you! This is a mistake!”

The prisoners formed a gaggle around the Imperial soldiers, and Iris craned her neck to scan the gathering crowd of onlookers. Would she see Aunt Helen’s face? A part of her prayed that she would not be there, that she wouldn’t have to face the death of her only niece. Another, more selfish part of Iris hoped she would be there, just to say goodbye.

"Step towards the block when we call your name,” the captain shouted as another Imperial officer stood by her side. “One at a time."

"Empire loves their damn lists,” the young Stormcloak scoffed, and Iris could hear him rolling his eyes.

The Imperial beside the captain opened a scroll and began to read. “Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm.” The Jarl walked to the chopping block without even a hint of hesitation. “Ralof of Riverwood.” The soldier beside Iris followed in suit. “Lokir of Rorikstead.”

The thief approached the captain instead. “No, I’m not a rebel! You can’t do this!” Before the captain could give a response, the man took off running.

“Halt!” the captain called after him.

“You’re not going to kill me!” Lokir cried as he continued to run.

“Archers!” The twang of flying arrows filled the air, and the thief was dead before he hit the ground. “Anyone else feel like running?”

With the distraction over, the man continued to read from the list, but he looked to Iris first. “Wait. You there, Step forward.” Iris obeyed, taking a few careful steps forward. He squinted at her, scrutinizing every feature of her face. “Who are you?”

Before Iris could open her mouth, a familiar voice cut her off. “Iris?” She turned, and eyes widened at the sight of her Aunt Hellen rushing forward. “Iris, what’s going on?”

“Stand down, citizen!” The captain held out a hand and Hellen froze only a few feet away. “This is Imperial business.”

“You know this prisoner?” the man with the list asked, motioning to Iris.

“Prisoner? What are you talking about?” she gasped, clutching a hand over her heart. “My niece is no Stormcloak! You can’t do this!”

He turned back to the captain. “What should we do? She’s not on the list.”

“Forget the list,” the captain replied. “She was with the Stormcloaks. She goes to the block.”

Hellen’s scream pierced harsher than the winter’s wind. “No you can’t!”

“Aunt Hellen, please!” Iris finally spoke up. She tried to summon the strongest smile she could. “It’s okay. I’ll be in Sovngarde soon. I’m not afraid.” A lie, but if it could spare her aunt a bit of suffering, it was warranted.

“Oh Iris…” Hellen’s voice came ragged and strained, but the tears flowed freely from her eyes.

“Follow the captain, Iris,” the Imperial said, with something that may have been sympathy.

Iris took a shaky breath and followed. With every step, the weight on her shoulders crushed her down further and further. Would she be allowed in Sovngarde? What would it be like? Would her parents be there?

As she followed the other prisoners, she caught sight of an older Imperial man standing before Jarl Stormcloak. “Ulfric Stoamcloak,” he said, folding his arms. “Some here in Helgen clal you a hero. But a hero doesn’t use a power like The Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne.” Only grunts came as the Jarl’s response, but Iris guessed some form of cursing was involved. “You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace.”

A noise in the distance rang out, like the unholy offspring of a beast’s roar and the thunder’s crashing.

“What was that?” one of the Imperials asked.

“It’s nothing,” the general dismissed. “Carry on.”

“Yes, General Tullius,” the captain replied, nodding before turning to the priestess that stood beside the chopping block. “Give them their last rites.”

The priestess stepped before the prisoners and raised her hands before speaking. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved-”

“For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with!” One of the exasperated Stormcloaks took it upon himself to approach the block himself, willingly kneeling with his head in position.

“Ah- as you wish,” the priestess replied, taken back.

Before the executioner could get the axe ready, the soldier spoke again. “Come on, I haven’t got all morning.” In the brief time it took the axe to line up and swing, the man had one last defiant word: “My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?”

Iris couldn’t look; the sound of the axe hitting the wood was bad enough.

“You Imperial bastards!” one of the other prisoners screamed.

“Justice!” a man from the crowd shouted.

“Death to the Stormcloaks!” a woman added.

“As fearless in death as he was in life,” Ralof sighed.

“Next, the Nord in rags!” the captain ordered, pointing to Iris. Just as she stepped forward, that same monstrous roar rang from the sky. Iris scanned the sky, unable to tell where the noise was coming from.

“There it is again,” the Imperial soldier said. “Did you hear that?”

“I said, next prisoner!” the captain ordered.

He sighed. “To the block, Iris. Nice and easy.”

No more distractions. Iris took a deep breath, her hands shaking in their binds. Her heart thudded in her ear with each heavy step towards the chopping block. The blood from the previous prisoner soaked her footwraps as she stepped over the lifeless corpse. Knees to the ground. Head on the wood. Iris’s pendant splayed before her eyes. Funny, her first memories were of playing with the pink crystal heart; it had been her first gift from Aunt Helen and now it would be her last sight. Just as she expected the world to go black, the pendant began to glow a faint pink. “Huh?” The light distracted her from the cacophony that boomed around her.

“What in Oblivion is that?!”

“Sentries! What do you see?”

“In the clouds!”

Iris tore her gaze away from the pendant to the tower looming above her as a creature descended from the sky, enormous as a mountain and black as a moonless night.

“DRAGON!”

The dragon opened it’s mouth and let out a deafening cry. In that instant, the peaceful blue sky turned into a fiery inferno. Iris sprang to her feet as molten rock rained down. A hand grabbed the back of her tunic, yanking her away just as a rock plummeted onto the chopping block.

“Come on, the gods won’t give us another chance!” Ralof called, grabbing Iris’s elbow and dragging her towards one of the keep towers. Iris could barely keep on her feet as she scanned through the chaos for any sign of Aunt Helen. Before she knew it, the fire was shut away by the walls of the tower.

“Wait!” Iris cried, jerking away from Ralof’s grasp as the door shut behind them.

“Jarl Ulfric!” Ralof called. “What is that thing? Could the legend be true?”

“Legends don’t burn down villages,” the jarl said before turning to the others that had gathered in the keep. “We need to move, now!”

“No! I have to get back out there!” Iris frantically pulled at her bindings as she tried to pry the door open. A pair of arms grabbed her waist and yanked her away from the door.

“Are you mad?!” Ulfric barked, planting Iris on the ground a good distance from the door. “You’ll be slaughtered!”

“We can’t just leave them to die!” she spat back.

“And how do you plan to attack a dragon?”

“I…” Iris paused. The jarl was right, she knew that, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she could be doing more.

“Up the tower, with me!” Ralof grabbed Iris’s elbow and pulled her up the stairs. Iris kept on her feet as they climbed the staircase, but the glow from her pendant caught her eye again.

“Wait!” She pulled Ralof to a stop just as the stone before them imploded in a fiery explosion. The dragon’s head emerged through the debris, breathing a stream of fire into the tower. The heat scorched her skin as she and Ralof stood just outside the reach of the flame. When the inferno stopped and the dragon flew away, Iris and Ralof looked through the hole in the tower. Below them stood an inn with half the roof blown off.

“Jump through the roof and keep going!” Ralof shouted. “Go! We’ll follow when we can!”

“Good luck,” Iris said to him before turning towards the inn. With a deep breath, she lept from the tower and landed hard on the wood below. “Aurg!” She buckled over from the pain in her shins and landed on her elbow. Slowly, Iris pulled herself up and trudged down the stairs. Looking through the splintered wood walls, she couldn’t recognize the Helgen she knew and loved through the immense damage.

“Iris!”

Through the noise, she heard a familiar voice call her name. Iris looked up and saw Helen cowering in the shelter of one of the more intact buildings.

“Aunt Hellen!” Iris called back. Despite the pain shooting through her legs, Iris ran to her. Not fast enough. Another meteor crashed from the sky, collapsing the building.

“IRIS!”

It wasn’t a horrible job. No, not job. Jojo was an indentured servant, paying for her late family’s debt. Still, the hologirl studio that owned her debt charged less interest than anywhere else qualified to accept and indentured servant. The duties of a hologirl were… enjoyable enough. Jojo felt no shame in exposing herself to countless viewers, though her kinks were rather ironic. She tied herself with slave chains and begged for her “master’s” touch as she pleasured herself with various objects. Occasionally, Jojo saw the outside world when her manager sent her to an out of the way hotel for a one on one escort. At least her manager provided her with rubbers for those occasions. After finishing a mid-day stream, Jojo made her way to the kitchen for one of the pre made meals. The contract entitled Jojo to two meals a day - although could make a case for three by arguing her chubbiness as a fetish. As she sat and ate the bland glob of nutrients, her manager, Kyu, entered the kitchen. “Oh hey, I was looking for you!” Kyu said, her voice upbeat. “I caught the end of that stream! Girl, we might have to get you a waterproof holo.” “Oh, thanks,” Jojo replied with a small smile. “I think people really like that.” “Trust me, they love it.” Kyu sat down across from Jojo, and the chair squeaked loudly as the woman zealously scooted forward. “In fact, you’ve caught the eye of a veeeery special someone!” Jojo blinked and set her fork down gently. “Is this another escort?” Normally Kyu wasn’t this coy about escort clients. “Well, technically.” Kyu clapped her hands together, her playful expression softening. “Okay, please don’t freak out on me until I explain the whole thing. So, this planet has been under the First Order for a while now, right? So getting on their good side is an absolute must, you feel me?” The pause prompted Jojo to respond. “I… I guess.” “Yeah!” Kyu smiled again and nodded, her pink hair bouncing in their pigtails. “So, I found out that one of their officers - one of their high ranking officers - is a big fan of yours. Like, a huge fan. Like, a pay out the ass for a private session fan. The only thing is he wants it in his private quarters." Jojo felt herself go pale. "Uh, really?" These kinds of customers weren't always upstanding citizens, but at least the hotel provided some level of security. "Um, did they say who exactly wanted me?" "No, not exactly," Kyu sighed, twirling a lock of hair around her fingers. "But look, it's a huge deal. Do this for me, ten percent of the credits goes straight to your principle. That's almost a year's worth of payments." "Holy shit!" Jojo's eyes widened. A year off her sentence? "And... You think this is safe?" "I don't see why not," she said with a shrug. "We're not with the resistance, we're not part of this war. We just provide a universal service. And bonus, they're actually paying for it. Let's not pretend they couldn't just order you to come on board." "That's true..." Jojo fiddled with her hands for a moment. Was one year of freedom worth the risk? She had nothing to hide from the First Order. "Okay, I'll do it." "Awesome!" Kyu jumped from her seat, knocking the chair back. "I'll go finalize the contract. You'll arrive there in the evening and come back the next morning. I'm sure you'll have fun." -- The next evening, Jojo prepared for her escort. She had instructions to wear something white and bring a change of clothes. Assuming something would happen to her white outfit, she picked out something she wouldn't miss. She wouldn't miss the short satin dress with a long, billowy chiffon overlay; it made wearing the slave chains awkward. Fortunately she didn't have to wear them of the trip to the base, so she packed them in a small duffel along with another outfit and a few other toys. Time to go. As Jojo made her way down the dark hall, her bag slung over her shoulder, she passed by Kyu. "Good luck, girlfriend!" she cooed, giving Jojo a thumbs up. "Knock'em dead!" "Thanks." Jojo's voice wavered as she spoke. With no need to put on a game face just yet, ner nerves worked their way into her voice.

“Hey now, don’t be nervous!” Kyu smiled and took her shaking hands. “You got this! You’re gonna fuck his brains out so hard that he’s not gonna be able to walk the next day! You’re gonna suck his soul out of his dick and spit it back in his lifeless corpse!”

Jojo couldn’t help but laugh, squeezing the other woman’s hands. “That’s disgusting, I love it.”

“There’s that gameface!” Kyu said. She let go of Jojo’s hands and patted her on the shoulder. “Go get ‘em!”

“I will, boss,” Jojo replied before continuing her journey to the foyer. A short woman dressed in a black uniform stood at the bottom of the staircase.

“I assume you’re Jojo?” She called, her voice even and professional.

“Yes, that’s me!” Jojo said as she began her descent. Her sandals clicked lightly on the hard floor as the chiffon gently flowed behind her. “I’m not late, am I?”

“No, but I’d rather not risk any delays.” The officer quickly turned and lead Jojo out the door. Despite her miniscule stature, she walked much faster than Jojo. The two boarded a small shuttle that sat just outside the studio. Jojo had never been in a shuttle designed to leave the atmosphere, but she still decided that this was a dinky one. Butterflies erupted in her stomach as they took off, and Jojo’s mind wandered to who she would be seeing. Kyu had emphasized this officer’s high standing, but the quality of the shuttle said otherwise. Jojo leaned forward from her bench, glancing into the cockpit.

“Um, excuse me, I haven’t gotten the name of my client,” Jojo called, fiddling with her hands.

“That was for security purposes,” the officer called from the co-pilot’s seat. “You’ll find out when we arrive.”

“... okay.” Jojo sank back into her seat. Perhaps this client was higher up than they were letting on? Rather than spend the entire trip trying to figure out the puzzle, she decided to pull out her favorite thick body cream and lather her arms and legs.

--

Even as the officer led Jojo through the impressive First Order base, she didn’t tell her who she was meeting with. Jojo could feel all the other black-clad officers staring at her. Why was it bothering her? She’d done far worse than this.

Finally they reached a door that led to large private living area. Dark colors decorated the walls and furniture. The large bed rested in the center of the room with a black canopy draping over it.

“Here we are,” the officer said as she turned back towards the exit. “You have instructions on the bed, and Commander Ren will be joining you within the hour.”

“Okay- Wait, Commander Ren? Kylo Ren?” Jojo repeated, gaping at the officer who was already out the door. Well. High ranking was certainly an understatement. Jojo sat down on the foot of the bed, picking up the paper he left behind. After reading it over, Jojo decided that Commander Ren had quite the imagination. She giggled as she put the note down and set her bag on the bed. Excitement brewed in her stomach as she pulled the slave chains from her bag and wrapped them around her torso, bunching the loose fabric together.

After properly dressing, Jojo placed her bag and shoes in one of the corners. Only then did she notice the table near the wall. It was covered in grey ash. Well. You don't become the leader of an intergalactic superpower by being normal.

Once Jojo properly accessorized, she crawled onto the bed and looked over the note again. He detailed how she would act and provided safety protocols. After fully processing the information, she set the paper on one of the nightstands and lied down at the foot of the bed, as per instructions. After getting comfortable on her side, she closed her eyes and and pretended to sleep. She waited for Kylo Ren with her ears aching for any sound amongst the silence.

She had almost fallen asleep when she finally heard the door slide open. Jojo resisted opening her eyes and getting a peek at the infamous Kylo Ren, but she kept to the instructions. His footsteps fell heavy on the hard floor as he shuffled around. Jojo couldn’t quite tell what he was doing. After a few minutes, she felt a gloved hand gently push her onto her back. She kept her eyes shut for a few moments more, just to be a little shit. Ren chuckled, his voice a deep chocolate with the scratch of graham crumbs. Soon Jojo felt a weight on her hips as Ren straddled her.

Finally, Jojo opened her eyes and found herself staring up at a rather handsome young man. Who could’ve known that the fearsome Kylo Ren had such soft features? Not to mention amazing hair. Before she could say anything, he leaned down and pressed his soft lips to hers with surprising tenderness.

“Master, you’re back,” Jojo breathed when he pulled away, a sleepy smile on her face. “I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you more, pet,” he said. Ren ran his hands along her torso, pausing to squeeze her breasts through her dress. “Have you been good while I was away!”

Jojo nodded. “Yes, master! I was very good!” She pulled her arms over her head to give him better access to her body.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Ren gripped the chains that wrapped around her body and pulled her into a sitting position. Jojo felt the heat radiating from him as Ren pressed his forehead against her own. “Now it’s time to serve.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Jojo put on her best submissive voice, both soft and desperate.

Ren grinned, his lips just barely ghosting her nose before he shoved her back down to the bed and climbed off of her. When Jojo caught her breath again, she sat up and watched him glide over to the table of ashes. He was quite the impressive figure, tall and just at the equilibrium of muscular and slender. Without turning around, he motioned for her to follow him with his long, slender fingers.

Jojo climbed from the bed, the long attachment chain clanging as it dragged across the floor. As soon as she stood by his side, Ren grabbed her arm with bruising strength and pulled her against the table before gripping her hair and pushing her down into the ashes. Jojo coughed as the bitter grey dust plumed around her. So, this was why she needed a change of clothes. Well. Jojo knew better than anyone that everyone had their fetish. The cold air hit her thighs as Ren pulled the dress over her thick ass and let it pool at her waist. His gloved hands grabbed a handful of her ass before giving it a sharp slap. Jojo cried out as her sensitive cheek tingled in the aftershock. The next thing she knew, he slid her panties down her legs, leaving her cunt exposed to the chill.

“Tsk tsk, it’s a shame to let cunt like this go unpleased,” Ren muttered. He pulled off one of his  gloves, tossing it idly on the table. Jojo gasped as one of his fingers slid inside of her and his thumb just ghosted against her clit. “Hmmm, still tight as ever.”

Jojo found herself genuinely blushing at his words, or maybe it was his actions. None of her escorts put in this much effort; she was usually expected to put on a show and then bounce on their dick or dick equivalent for a few minutes. Despite her submissive act, she always ended up pleasuring herself, but just like having your back scratched, it feels better when someone else does it. Jojo found herself spreading her legs, begging for any more attention he could give.

“Oh pet, you’ve missed your master’s touch, haven’t you?” Jojo could just hear the dirty smirk in his voice as he teased you with a gentle curl of his finger.

“Y-yes, yes master,” Jojo gasped. As she spoke, the bitter taste of the ash worked it’s way into her mouth. “Please, I want more.”

Ren pulled his hand out, smacking her ass again. “What was that?”

Jojo moaned again clenching her fists in frustration. “Please, master, I want more!”

“More what?” he chuckled.

Jojo huffed. Time to pull out the big guns. “I want more of you inside of me, master!” she cried out. “I want your fingers inside of me! I need your cock inside of me! I need master’s cock!”

Again, Ren yanked her back to her feet with the chains, using her hair to make her face him. He kissed her deeply, tasting the ash that dusted her tongue. “You have a quite the mouth, pet. Do you want me to fuck your filthy cunt or your filthy mouth?”

“Oh god,” Jojo breathed as he placed kisses along her soiled neck and shoulders. Normally it didn’t matter either way, but she got a taste of pleasure and now she wanted more. “Master, please, I want you to fuck my filthy cunt!”

“Then what are we going to do about that mouth of yours?” Ren hummed, running his gloved hand down her thighs. Without warning, he ripped her panties from around the knees and shoved the wet fabric in her mouth. Jojo breathed heavily through her nose, taking in the salty taste of her own arousal. “Now, help your master undress.”

Jojo gave a muffled coo in response and turned around. First, she undid his thick leather belt and let it fall to the floor. With access to his robes, she undid the zipper and ran her hands along his toned chest to push the heavy fabric down his arms. All the while, she met his own fervent gaze with wide, innocent eyes. Once freed from his robes, Jojo took a moment to admire his toned arms. As Ren slid the suspenders from his shoulders, Jojo knelt down and began unzipping his black leather boots. As a shoe lover, she had to admire the quality of the boots as she slid them off his feet. Her innocent eyes met his again as she slipped her thumbs under his waistband and pulled his pants down. Even with his undergarments on, Jojo could tell he was larger than the average customer.

“On your feet, pet,” Ren ordered before she could pull his underwear down. Jojo reluctantly obliged. As soon as she stood again, the commander grabbed at her sullied dress and ripped the delicate fabric apart. Jojo squeaked as the chill attacked her newly vulnerable body. The silver chains that criss-crossed around her torso accentuated her hourglass figure, and Ren’s eyes hungrily devoured the sight before he shoved her back onto the table. Jojo landed on her elbows, watching as Ren removed his own underwear. That confirmed that Kylo Ren was much larger than the average client.

Ren grabbed her knees and pulled her legs apart, pushing the ash into piles around her thighs. His lush lips pulled into a smirk as he let his cock tease at Jojo’s entrance. She whined indignantly, bucking her hips against the head of his erection.

“Such a desperate pet,” Ren mused. He rubbed her clit gently, his other hand removing the gag from her mouth. “Tell me, do you think you’ve earned your master’s cock?”

Jojo nodded vigorously, ash matting into her hair. “Yes!” She was sweating from the relentless teasing, her hole aching for a cock. “Please, master! I’ve been good!” One of her hands trailed to her breast, playing with her nipple just to get a taste of pleasure. Suddenly it felt like a thousand hands yanked her arms and pinned them down to the table.

“You get your pleasure from me, pet, understand?” Ren scolded, his face serious.

That was when she realized he was using the force. Perhaps fucking a force-user had it’s benefits. Still, Jojo found her blush growing hotter at the thought of another being completely in charge of her. “Y-yes, I understand, Master.”

“Good.” Ren grabbed her knees and pushed them until they almost touched her chest. “I think you’ve been good enough, pet. You’ve earned a fucking.” Jojo groaned as his thick shaft slid inside of her, filling her wet cunt at an agonizingly slow rate. Ren’s grip on her thighs tightened until his cock fit entirely inside of her and his balls rested against her thick ass. “You’re perfect, you know that?” he growled, his gaze growing intense. “You’re a perfect cock sheath, you know that?”

Jojo nodded. Her toes curled in pleasure as Ren set a slow but steady pace. His cock slid in and out completely, soaking his shaft with her arousal. A sharp slap hit her ass before she could enjoy anymore.

“Use your words when you address me, pet,” Ren scolded as he gave her cheek another slap. “I won’t remind you again.”

“Ah-!” Jojo cried out with each strike, but the pain only excited her more. The thought crossed her mind to keep misbehaving to get another spanking, but that wasn’t what he paid for. “Yes, master, I understand…”

“Good.” Ren smirked and picked up the pace of his thrusts. His freckle-dotted body rolled in a perfect rhythm that tortured her aching pussy. “Tell your master how much you like it.”

“I love master’s cock,” Jojo breathed, yanking at her invisible restraints. With each breath, she tasted the bitter ash again. “It feels so good…”

Ren reached down, his thumb gently brushing her cheek to her plump lips. “You’re already breathless, pet. Have you already forgotten how much I can do to you?”

“You… you were gone for so long.” She squirmed helplessly beneath him as his steady pace picked up.

With one hand grabbing her hair, Ren leaned down and kissed her, sloppy and passionate. Jojo met his energy as she squeezed her legs against his torso. Each passing moment made Ren thrust faster and harder at a merciless rate. Jojo cries came muffled from their kiss as tears began to build in her eyes. Never before had she felt so powerless and overwhelmed, but to be absolved of control was an ecstasy beyond her wildest imagination. Ren only pushed her pleasure further by rubbing her clit with his thick fingers as he continued his relentless fucking.

“You like that, don’t you, pet?” Ren smirked, drinking up the image of the keen performer coming undone by his touch.

“Y-yes… yes, master…” Jojo’s words came ragged as she struggled to maintain control over her thoughts. Her vision blurred as her mind floated away, leaving her only with the hyperawareness of every touch of Ren’s skin, every bead of sweat on her body, and every ash that cradled her form.

Ren leaned down until his lips brushed her ears and whispered, “Then come for me, pet.”

With no need to ask twice, Jojo’s orgasm ripped through her, breaking the dam that held her tears back. Each contraction sent a shockwave of pleasure through her entire body and a gush of clear liquid from her aching cunt. As her body began to calm, Ren pulled his throbbing cock out of her and climbed onto the table, his knees straddling her shoulders. Juices dripped from his torso as he grabbed her hair craned her neck up until her lips met his soaked cock. Jojo took his entire length easily into her mouth, swirling her tongue and savoring the salty taste of her own come mixed with his precome. Ren’s loud grunts filled the room as he fucked her throat, though it only took a few sharp thrusts before he unleashed his load into her mouth. Running on instinct, Jojo sucked and swallowed the salty come until she milked his cock dry.

Ren panted heavily as he sat back on Jojo’s waist. After a moment, she could hear his breathy chuckle. “Would you like a shower?”