A sharp pain in his chest jolted Daan back to consciousness, his head spinning as he blinked up at the dim, sterile ceiling.
It felt like he'd courted death and was slapped back to life. 'Damn, if only my bed at home was this comfy,' he thought, pulling against the binds, only to realize his wrists and ankles were strapped down tight with sturdy black leather.
Panic invaded, blood pounding, until he heard the unmistakable clack of heavy boots walking toward him.
The door swung open, and there she was—Resolute. Her uniform clung to every curve, and the zipper lowered teasingly close to her exposed pussy; she wore no bra or panties.
Scars mapped her toned, muscular body, but they didn't detract from the smooth, creamy flesh, which was as flawless as a marble statue.
Each ripple of her muscle was refined and compact, showing years of relentless training.
Her medium breasts—firm, perky, crowned with innocent pink nipples—were damn near a masterpiece.
Resolute sauntered up to him, her hips swaying, and removed her helmet, letting him drink in her sharp, stunning features.
Her black lips parted slightly, her jaw an elegant V, and her gaze—sharp and eyes, maybe Asian—pierced through him.
Short black hair fell across her forehead, perfectly contrasting with her sculpted, almost inhumanly perfect body.
"I don't know what you did," she murmured, voice low like a whisper and intense, as she climbed onto the bed, her nearly naked form looming over him, "but I can't stop thinking about you. Answer me."
Daan was only covered by a thin hospital sheet, and it did nothing to hide the way her body pressed close to his, her heat seeping through the fabric.
"What?" Daan stammered, eyes flicking desperately between her intense gaze and the view down her suit; her tits were firm and perky, defying gravity.
Daan clenched his eyes shut, willing himself not to react, not to get hard, but his body betrayed him. He could feel himself stirring beneath the sheet.
Suddenly, Resolute shifted, and something brushed against her bare pussylips.
She froze, then glanced down, her eyes widening as she realized his tip had somehow pressed inside her suit, barely grazing her. Her gaze darkened with a new kind of intensity.
"Somehow, you smuggled a weapon into my cave," she murmured, her eyes flicking to the outline beneath the sheet.
With a swift yank, Resolute tore away the bedsheet, revealing Daan's naked form. Both stared in awe—Resolute, marveling at his muscular physique, now even more toned than she remembered; Daan, startled at his own transformation from a few days ago when he still had a soft belly.
Her gaze lingered on his cock, standing thick and ready. It wasn't monstrous, but it would've easily landed him a porn gig, the kind that earned a hearty slap on the back from the director.
Resolute's eyes betrayed her inexperience; her mouth parted in awe. "It… it's… impressive," she muttered, her voice wavering for the first time.
"You're not so bad yourself," Daan smirked, the twisted thought flickering through his mind as he added, "You know, it's normal for a woman to show her interest through… physical and sexual means."
Her eyes widened in surprise before narrowing. "Is it? Yeah… I knew that." She stammered, almost defensively, before hastily stepping off the bed and shrugging out of the rest of her uniform.
She stood fully exposed and naked, her body a breathtaking blend of softness and strength.
Her skin was like velvet, as the butt of a baby, but each inch was hardened by years of training.
If someone were to run their hands over her, they'd feel the sleek curves and subtle ridges, like tracing a hand over softened marble.
She crawled back onto the bed, eyes locked on him, hands ready. "My real name is Kista Maso. I'm 24, sole heir of the Maso Corporation," she said, spitting into her hands before wrapping them around his throbbing cock.
Her warm, slick hands worked him slowly, squeezing at the base and twisting as they moved upward. Daan's breath hitched as she continued, her gaze never leaving his eyes.
"I like reading classic literature, collecting plushies, fighting, training… and I masturbate fourteen times a week. Once before my morning shower and again at night—can't sleep otherwise," she confessed, her strokes becoming firmer.
Her lips quirked into a smirk as she lowered herself until her mouth was just above his cock, her breath hot against the sensitive skin. "I broke my hymen at fourteen while I masturbated… Never had a boyfriend—no time for love when there was always some multiversal threat every weekend." Her voice grew husky. "Guess I'm… thanking you for this meal."
Without another word, she deepthroated Daan in one smooth motion, taking him down her throat. Her lips stretched, and her throat bulged as she swallowed his cock, sending hot shivers through Daan's body.
Kista's eyes filled with tears as she took Daan's cock all the way to the base, her lips pressed tight against his crotch, a visible bulge in her throat marking his length.
Despite the tears and the strain, her gaze was unmistakably one of pure, drowning pleasure.
She pulled her head back, leaving a glistening strand of saliva connecting them. With a sly, almost proud smile, she looked up at him, breathless.
"My kinks," she purred. "Degradation, masochism… I love being hit and spat on… and my biggest fantasy? Retiring after saving the world, only to marry some deadbeat bastard who'll ruin me every day. Nice to meet you," she grinned, diving back down onto his cock.
It was messy, desperate—Kista's lips and tongue worked frantically, coating Daan's cock in thick trails of saliva.
Her lipstick left smudges along his cock, different marks at different lengths. She bobbed her head up and down, her movements feverish, like her life depended on it.
With one hand, she twisted and teased her nipples while her other hand played with Daan's balls, giving them a squeeze every time she felt his cock throb in her throat.
Daan grunted, overwhelmed by the intensity. Kista's technique was raw and rough, but she poured every ounce of herself into it.
Her hands stroked him firmly while her lips wrapped tightly around the tip, her tongue tracing circles over it.
She pulled back briefly, cheeks bulging as she tried to speak around his cock. "I know my technique isn't perfect, but I'm giving it my all," she murmured, her voice muffled, cheeks hollowed as she pulled him deeper. "I hope I'm good enough!"
He could only respond with another low grunt, and she took it as encouragement.
With renewed intensity, she deep-throated him again, feeling his body tense as he neared release. "Please, cum in my throat!" she muffinly pleaded, voice thick with desire as her throat stretched around his length. And as if her words commanded him, he cummed.
Kista's eyes rolled back in her head as her throat and stomach were flooded, thick, hot waves of cum surging down, filling her to the brim; it was as though he'd been saving up for weeks.
Her body reacted, climaxing hard enough to leave a wet mess across the floor and sheets.
Her eyes rolled back, her chin resting against his base, not caring if she drowned in his cock.
Eventually, Kista pulled back, panting, a mix of saliva and cum coating Daan's length.
She opened her mouth, letting the thick, milky fluid pool on her tongue. "Thanks for the meal," she murmured, barely comprehensible, before closing her mouth and swallowing as much as she could manage.
After savoring every drop, she retrieved a set of keys from a lower pocket on her uniform, then tiptoed over to free Daan from his restraints.
His legs wobbled as he tried to stand, still shaky from the intense "introduction."
"Sorry! It's my first time with a real cock," Kista laughed, steadying him as she guided him through the dimly lit corridors of her base.
Finally, they reached an office, where a massive computer awaited. She sat him down beside her in a comfortable leather chair, both of them still naked, sweaty, and exhausted.
"Ehem, so... what is your name?"