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“Hmmh.. even after all these years, you still know how to treat a woman right, Cavendish.”
Pale fingers rake down a surprisingly muscular back, dull nails purposefully digging into the flesh, leaving angry red marks in their wake. And yet, the presidential elective doesn't do so much as flinch.
“Shut it, Paradeisos.”
“Make me. Or are you truly all bark and no bite, miss president?”
A giggle - strained and crackling, forces its way out of 02’s throat; doing exactly zilch to cover her sardonic tone.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, 02’s vaguely, aware of her intuition screaming at her to shut up. To stop riling up the woman who could snap her neck in twine here and now, in this dimly lit office of hers. To not give her a reason to call forth the guards stood just outside the door — oh, Paradeisos’ reputation would be in tatters if she were to be found nude and moaning around the enemy’s cock.
Rudely, she's awakened from her musings by finding herself forced to shift her grip only a few seconds later, hands frantically sliding up until she's certain she has a good hold on Bernadette’s shoulders.
Her heel digs into the dip of the blonde's spine, ankles locking together as she's lifted up into the air. The change in position forced the toy inside her to jolt, with Bernadette’s hips adjusting to a more convenient tilt — a few degrees higher, making the outermost ridge dig into 02’s front wall before a punishing thrust threatens to knock the air out of her lungs, and her brain capacity with it.
Briefly, the back of her head makes contact with the wall behind her. Nay — not wall, window.
Ah. So, Bernadette is taking her for the whole world to see, it seems. That is, if only someone thought to look up.
Oh, who is she trying to kid. Nobody in their right mind would bother straining their neck to spy on one of the countless random windows on the hundredth and something floor of a heavily defended building. Surely not.
A thrust, another — 02 swears she can feel the unforgiving stiffness of the strap slamming against her womb.
“Gck— hahh.. haha.. oh, I'm so sorry, madam. Was that a nerve I just struck?”
Another thrust, and then another befalls her, stiff silicone stretching her cunt tightly over it even while she curls in on herself. The smile’s getting harder to maintain on her lips.
She just feels so full, speared and spread open on Bernadette’s cock. Surely, she'll be feeling the imprint of her inside for days to come.
Once the rutting turns into a stabilized pace, 02 finally stretches out her aching legs, duly noting that the muscles had already knotted up on her. The back of her thighs burn where the edge of the table had dug into the meat — that same place that Bernadette is now using as leverage to add harshness to her drags.
And languidly, 02 finds herself wondering which of the two will leave bruises behind.
Secretly, she hopes for both. After all, she always adores waking to the evidence Bernadette leaves behind on her come morn. Bite marks, scratches, bruises..
Oh, and there was that one time that 02 recalls especially fondly. When she'd awoken to find the skin of her ass red and bruised, from both hand and belt alike.
To this day, 02 has yet to orgasm so strongly again.
“Hahhh… hnhh.. oh, miss president..” 02 goads, burying her face into the sweet smelling neck before her just in the nick of time, silencing her genuine moan behind grit teeth.
“..Ahhhm.. s-surely, you can.. hah.. go faster than this, no?”
She knows she's getting in over her head with her latest tease. Knows that she'll break apart should Bernadette take the bait and up her pace. Knows, because she's just barely hanging on as is.
The toy is.. unforgiving on her insides. The silicone is too stiff, unwilling to adjust even slightly to her cunt.
Through her misted vision, 02 just barely manages to spot the way Bernadette’s jaw tenses when she digs her nails into the junction between her neck and shoulder.
She sees something dangerous flash in those eyes.
After all, two can play at this game of hers, no?
02 flinches subtly once her bare sole of her left foot meets the cold tiled floor, her right leg pulled up to hook over Bernadette’s shoulder. She lacks just that little drop of flexibility that would save her from having the tendons of her inner thighs burn as she's made to keep both her balance, and her position.
A sharp, low voice rumbles into her ear, Bernadette’s hunched frame hovering above her.
“Is that a challenge?”
02 smiles.
Hook, line and sinker.
“Oh? And if it is?”
Bernadette scoffs at the response, and 02 braces herself for that which will follow.
“Then I suppose I'll have to rise to the occasion, won't I?" Bernadette murmurs, a smirk forming on her lips.
02 isn't even given a chance to respond before Bernadette readjusts her hand placement. One moving to brace herself against the glass, and the other staying on the woman's thigh and squeezing.
Bernadette looks at the limited view of the city that she's afforded from this high up.
DisCity is alight with life. Neon signs, flashing lights, car beams, billboards..
It all makes for a beautiful backdrop, framing 02’s face just so, making Bernadette ache to kiss her, to fuck her brains out.
She follows through on the latter thought, hips rolling once. 02 doubles over, wanton moan torn from her pretty throat as she scrambles to place a hand on her abdomen. Her abdomen — through which Bernadette can just barely spot the faintest imprint of her cock. Her chest is heaving, bare breasts bouncing so temptingly before her eyes.
Bernadette feels her mouth water
She picks up her prior pace. Then surpasses it, even though 02 had already crumbled.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh—!”
It must be the angle, Bernadette muses. Because never before had she seen 02 crumble so suddenly, and so hard.
“Cavendish— ah, ahmm…”
Sharp teeth dig into Bernadette’s shoulder, forcing her to take her hand off the glass and instead yank 02’s head away by the hair.
“..Making bad choices today, are we, Miss paradeisos?”
She looks so pathetic like this, composure all gone, white hair wrapped so tightly around Bernadette’s wrist, eyes hopelessly glazed over.
“Bernadette- fuck—!”
The satisfaction of hearing her name falling from 02’s lips is swiftly broken by a voice ringing out from the corner of the room.
“02. Refrain from all differing types of profanity.”
Bernadette tsks. Truly, was it necessary to have Schorl inside the room while she blows 02’s back out?
Yes, apparently. For 02's ‘protection’ ; though Bernadette suspects that it's only there to keep her in line.
What a pain.
“Ah— ahmm.. s-slow down, wait— I’m- I’m—!”
02 stiffens in her grasp. Then almost collapses, knee buckling beneath her weight as sweet nectar spills between her legs, coats her inner thighs in it.
That was.. oddly fast. Just how long has she been pent up for? A question for another hour.
02 comes down from her high with a mix of sobs, whimpers and sighs. Soft, just quiet enough to be kept from Schorl’s auditory sensors.
“..Hahh… hah…”
And yet, Bernadette doesn't let up, not even after 02 makes a point to groan out her discomfort.
“..Hah.. enough.. I..”
Bernadette finds herself having to exert more force to keep moving, past the fluttering of 02’s cunt around her, past 02’s desperate hips trying to buck away from her cock. Then frail hands trying to push her off by the shoulders.
“Ah-ah-ah, miss paradeisos. You were the one to begin this challenge, remember?”
The oversensitivity in 02’s gut rises up her throat, making her unable to answer.
“Let's see this through to the end, shall we?”