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"Shh, babygirl," Terra murmured. Blake's skin was hot and flushed against her fingertips as she ran her palms up and down her body. It would've certainly been more fair to not knead her breasts just so if she wanted Blake to stay quiet, but Terra had discovered that, in the privacy of the bedroom, "mercy" was something she had a preciously trifle supply of.

Not to say that she was cruel, no, far from it. Which was exactly why she had Blake bound to a well-used chair with those beautiful black silk ribbons of her, carefully woven to press delectable indents across her naked skin. She had gotten a bit carried away with the tie after securing Blake's legs, so the weave formed an aesthetic harness across her torso which framed her breasts perfectly before it disappeared behind her to keep her arms to the backrest. It then reached up to wrap around Blake's head, covering her eyes with a doubled coin knot to keep her in the dark. She'd have to ask Blake to get longer ribbons next time since she hadn't had enough length to also wrap it around her neck like a collar, and that delineation of black between her head and the torso was criminally absent.

The blindfold made all the difference. Blake was remarkably good at keeping her composure under pressure – a magnificently attractive trait to have, and even more fun to put to the test – but her ears were a dead giveaway. It was difficult to not stare at their little motions at the best of times, so now Terra could indulge and watch every twitch and flick of them while she toyed with Blake's body. Terra settled behind her and pressed her lips against the whorl on the top of Blake's head. It took every bit of her self-restraint to not nibble on the soft fuzzy edge of the ear there, but alas, Blake preferred her not to.

She had other ways, though.

"Look at you," she whispered in a low, quiet voice, her lips right at the base of the sensitive ear which flicked in response. She took her time, lifting her hands under Blake's breasts and slowly kneading them, slipping one higher to lightly pinch her nipple which caused the ear to tremble delectably as Blake tensed up. "I've barely even touched you, and you're making such a mess for me."

The shibari had taken a while and Terra had scarcely kept her hands off Blake since the first knot, but that was neither here nor there. What mattered were the reactions. The subtle shifting of her hips, the wavering exhales, the measured way she swallowed. How her jaw clenched as Terra pinched the nipple harder, and the building anticipation as Terra palmed her other breast, slowly pulling her fingers to a point around her hard nipple before simply letting them slide off with the lightest touch to leave her hanging.

"Plea—please." Blake's breath hitched in the middle in a way that sent the most pleasurable shiver down Terra's core.

"No words, now," she cooed and lowered her head to ghost her lips on Blake's cheek. "I would hate to gag such a pretty mouth."

A half-lie and an empty threat, since she'd love to gag especially such a pretty mouth with a nice ribbon cleave gag and make Blake drool all over her chest, but she was out of ribbons and the only thing at hand was one of those tacky red ballgags Yang had brought.

Luckily, Blake either bought into it or played along, just nodding slightly.

"Good girl." Terra smiled as Blake's ears flattened against her scalp at the words, and she slid her fingers down Blake's side. Smooth black silk and pale skin alternated under her fingertips until she reached the hip, and she took a moment to appreciate the wave of goosebumps that spread from the point of contact. She had all the time in the world, so she luxuriated in palming Blake's soft inner thigh and tracing a figure against it to draw out an uncontrolled twitch of her hips. She lifted her hand until just a single finger touched, and slowly traced her way up the zigzag of the weave until her fingertip rested right above Blake's mons.

Terra hummed. "You look so beautiful like this," she murmured, and slid her finger down, over the buck of Blake's hips and leaving it to rest right above her clitoral hood to draw a sharp inhale from Blake. "So tense and ready."

Ready for what? Who knew. Being eaten out until she tapped out, an hour of teasing, being tied down on a vibrator, choking on the pretty purple strap she so liked... But the specifics mattered less than the fact that all of them and more were rushing through Blake's head at the very moment. Terra knew it well, that barely coherent rush of colliding wants and needs that left Blake bucking her hips against her hand.

"There, there." Terra pressed a kiss against Blake's neck, and chose to linger as she splayed her fingers between Blake's legs and spread her open. The combination of teeth against her skin and her pussy so exposed to the empty room drove a strained whimper from Blake's throat, and Terra held her there. The room might have been empty except for the two of them, but she could just about hear Blake's imagined audience populate it. Blake throbbed, urgently, and the slickness between her legs left Terra adjusting her hold to keep her open.

"So wet..." Terra smiled against Blake's neck. "Should I go down there and lick you clean properly?" One fingertip sliding between Blake's lips, not entering just yet. "Get a nice and close look at you. How you throb, how you leak." As Blake tensed up, she started curling the finger in, and got a beautiful, choked whine from Blake for her efforts. "How your clit pulses when I blow a puff of air on it."

She clenched around Terra's finger, legs trying to clamp together and straining against the ribbons. Terra held still for a moment to let Blake catch her breath, eyes intently watching how her mouth moved as she swallowed, wet her lips and mouthed out a swear. Maybe she hadn't lied, it would've been a shame to put a gag on that.

Terra slid her finger out and pushed it back in immediately, setting a slow pace which straightened Blake's spine. "I could properly inspect you like it. Watch how you buck when I toy with you. Or how hard you clench when I make you cum." Blake's hips followed her motions, and she angled her palm to grind against her clit. "Maybe record you. See if you orgasm differently when it's Yang between your legs. We could compare notes."

Blake inhaled sharply, tensing and turning her head away. It wasn't quite the shake of her head, but Terra charitably interpreted it as one and pulled her hand away, leaving Blake hanging. "No?"

"F—fuc—" Blake stuttered, catching herself but bucking her hips. She must've been close.

Delicious. Terra bit her lip and pressed her own legs together, indulging in the pleasant friction before exhaling and blowing a puff of air on Blake's cheek which sent her Faunus ears swiveling. "Shh. I'll let you cool down a moment, then." The want and frustration etched on the tautness of Blake's jawline was delectable, and she leaned in to place a light kiss on her lips. Blake pressed forward, but Terra broke the contact and pulled away with a happy hum.

It was both both a blessing and a curse with how acute Blake's hearing was. On the one hand, it made her all the more sensitive to little sounds and light murmurs. Terra had weaponized that to great effect at the dinner table by subtly unzipping her jeans once – a tiny, inaudibly low rumble in the hubbub – but the twitch f Blake's ears and the resulting blush as they locked eyes told her everything she needed to know about where Blake's train of thought had headed.

But on the other hand, it also made it absolutely impossible to open the minifridge in the room to take out the ice tray. That element of surprise was irrevocably lost, but she made do. She hummed to herself as if casually while keeping her eyes on Blake, and the sound of the door seal opening had Blake's ears perking straight up. Terra picked out a tray from the freezer compartment – almost empty, she had told told told them to refill it – and slid out an ice cube.

"Now, where were we..." She made her way back to Blake, taking a moment to admire her. Toned, aching and flushed body, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, the damp spot on the chair she was sitting on, the way her ears were completely locked on to Terra. Could Blake hear her breathe? Her pulse? The way the fabric of her shirt rustled if she ran her hand up her own chest? Terra put her fingers under Blake's chin and lifted her head.

She should ask later. Instead, she slid the ice cube in her own mouth before leaning down to continue the kiss.

Blake pressed against her eagerly, then flinched as she made contact with the cold ice. Terra couldn't hold back her smile, but she pressed on nonetheless and pushed her tongue in, taking control of the kiss. The ice cube slipped between their tongues before Terra pulled away, leaving Blake panting.

"Keep that cool for me for a moment, hm?" she said, pressing a finger on Blake's lips to keep the cube in. She could stew like that for a little bit, until—

Blake's ears swiveled towards downstairs, and a moment later, Terra heard the front door open.

Oh.

"...while I go greet whoever came back." She smirked, leaning in to breathe against Blake's human ear. "Which one do you think? Yang or Saphron? I'm sure you'll recognize the voice, but what about the tongue?"

Blake stiffened. The blush on her face crept down her neck, and they'd have to hurry before the ice cube steamed in her mouth. "And when I bring them up, you'll have no idea if it's blue or lilac eyes looking up at you." She lowered her hand, feeling Blake's midsection tense before she cupped her, feeling the wetness. "Settling between your legs. Watching you. Tasting you." For effect, she leaned in to give the side of Blake's face a short lick, ending on the base of her ear and lowering her voice to a whisper. "Feeling how you orgasm... And you wouldn't even know which name to whimper."

Blake moaned; urgent, desperate and garbled by the ice cube in her mouth, her whole body shivering. Terra swallowed and took a steadying breath before raising her slick hand and giving Blake's cheek a short pat. "Just give me a few," she said and straightened herself. She unlocked and opened the door, deliberated for half a second before leaving it wide open as she stepped into the hallway. "You won't even know I'm gone."

Chapter Text

Oh, the joys of not giving a damn. Willow put on her best winning smile and threw open the dorm room door. "Well, hello!"

The reaction she got was just delightful. Weiss was sitting at her desk, alone, and a gamut of emotions ran through her face as she turned. Surprise, anger, and oh yes, a small glint of panic in those widening eyes. She shot up and almost knocked her chair over, mouth opening and closing a few times in shock before she schooled her expression to a pretty good facade of ice.

"What are you doing here," Weiss said, staring her down.

It was a good effort. The slightly narrowed eyes – not enough to be quite openly hostile, but it sent the message – the measured, even tone of the words... She was remarkably composed if she tried. But that was all a part of the fun, wasn't it?

"Oh," Willow lilted, indulging in the theatrics as she stepped in with open arms, Weiss taking a step back. "A mother can't visit her own daughter to see how she's doing? And not even a 'Hello, how have you been'? You wound me."

Weiss gritted her teeth, measuring her words carefully. "What are you doing here."

"Oh?" Willow put on a frown and let her arms fall down. "Well, nothing tremendously important." She made a show of looking over the dorm, making a tsk sound at a pile of laundry in the corner and walking over to Weiss's desk to look at what she had been doing. Dust something, she didn't particularly care. Bits and pieces of the old family sword littered the table, and she prodded at a small bolt to make it roll around. Had she broken that thing too? "Just dropping off a few documents, and I thought I'd give you a visit. But if you don't want me here..." She left the sentence hang, pretending to be very much interested in looking at the covers of the books on the desk.

"You—" Weiss caught herself. "What documents."

She really was delightful. She caught on fast, but watching that wall of ice crack was an art in and of itself. Willow picked up a diagram from the desk and put it back in a different spot, taking another and looking at its backleaf. She could feel Weiss seething. "Oh?" she said, as if distracted. "Atlas is just such a cold and lonely place. I'm sure you know how it is, hm? There I was, reminiscing as people my age are wont to, and I was just thinking back on how teary your departure had been."

She might have been at the time three knuckles deep into her second orgasm of the night while reminiscing about Weiss naked, kneeling and begging with her tongue to be allowed to leave Atlas, but hardly changed the fact that the whole affair had been rather teary on Weiss's part. It was, in fact, one of the more memorable aspects of it.

"What. Documents."

So quickly the facade fell. Willow had been expecting more of a repartee, but Weiss seemed to be hanging onto her composure for dear life and was just repeating what she had already said. She couldn't even keep the panic out of her voice. Willow let out a dramatic sigh, dropping the schematic and having it slip off the desk and glide somewhere under a bed. "Why, transfer papers of course. You've been having your silly little adventure over here for so many months now, and I think it's high time for you to be a good daughter and come back home."

As she finished, she fixed her eyes on Weiss. Gods, the reactions were just delicious. The way her fingers flexed instinctively, the wide eyes, the tense jaw... The panic in her was just palpable.

Not that she had much of note to actually threaten Weiss with. She had prodded a few lawyers about it on a lazy day, and turns out that adults can, by and large, make decisions for themselves, so wresting her away from Vale jurisdiction would be a rather messy affair. She could of course ask Jacques to make it happen, but she'd sooner slit her wrists with a juice box. But that was her private little secret, and finicky details of reality hardly mattered as she watched Weiss hold back stuttering responses, eyes wide and panicked.

"You—You can't. You can't do that."

"Oh, of course I can. I'm your mother. I'm a Schnee." She put on a reassuring look and spread her arms as if to hug Weiss, who stumbled back out of the way as if stung. "Surely you know how these things go."

"Don't." Weiss was breathing heavily. "You're not doing that."

"What? Why not?" Willow shrugged. "I'm not hearing much of an argument against it."

"I—" Weiss took a sharp inhale, centering herself. Her poor brain must be working overtime, trying to come up with good excuses and reasons. Yes, yes, friends, found family, career... All important to things but of zero note to Willow. "My studies are here. I'm doing well."

Would that Willow gave a damn. She made a contemplative noise. "Small issues. I'm sure those could be smoothed over."

"Stop. I'm not coming." There was desperation in her voice, now. She was trying to make it a statement, but it was a plead.

Willow wanted to hear her say it. "Is that it? Is that the best you can do?" Willow looked her up and down, from the tips of her boots to the childishly rebellious off-kilter ponytail. She looked so small.

"I..." Weiss set her lips and took an unconscious half-step back under Willow's gaze.

Willow let her expression drop. "I don't think you really internalized the last lesson I gave you, so let me spell it out for you. It's all about leverage, you know. And it just so happens that you have exactly two pieces of leverage over me, those being that tight body and delightfully clumsy mouth of yours. So use them."

Oh, the shudder Weiss tried to suppress was glorious. Just a few words, and she had Weiss trembling in her boots, completely at loss of words. Usually she was so quick with her tongue, too. She could get used to this kind of influence.

But wasn't she full of surprises today. Willow lifted an eyebrow as Weiss gritted her teeth and picked the detached rapier blade from her desk, Aura rippling on her hand where she gripped the bare edge white-knuckled. "I can do more," she growled, slowly raising the blade.

Wouldn't that be a way to go. Willow smiled. Matricide all across the headlines, the dramatic spectacle of it, the interviews, someone leaking the details of their little trysts... Gods, Jacques would have his stocks in a vice when people started asking how is it that seemingly every member of his tidy family is either estranged, imprisoned or dead. Whitley, poor bastard, would have to be absolutely perfect under Jacques' scrutiny, and wouldn't that be a whole another bomb waiting to blow up in a few years. It would be a glorious, glorious disaster.

But, alas, no such thing today. "Weiss," she said, calming her voice down. "You're no killer. And even if you were, where do you think you'd go after?"

Frost slowly crept up the blade and over Weiss's wrist where she held it in a death grip. She unclenched her jaw and almost said something, but seemed to think better of it.

Strange how none of her capability as a Huntress helped her the slightest bit here. Willow let out a forbearing sigh. "Your third mistake is that you think I value my life more than you do yours." Weiss gritted her teeth, the point of the blade wavering in the air. "Put your toy down."

For a moment, Willow thought she might actually go through with it all and take the plunge, but as seconds ticked past, Weiss grimaced, the blade trembling in her hold until she lowered it, her expression a mix of resignation and loathing.

"Good girl." Willow flicked her hand towards the desk, and after a moment, Weiss put the blade back down on it.

"What—" Weiss almost choked on the word, but she hardened herself. She was preparing for what she knew was coming, and so she controlled her breathing and tried to distance herself from everything. When she finally spoke, her voice was even, without a hint of inflection. "What do you want from me?"

Willow smiled. An impressive trick, bottling all that up. A fun little surprise for her future therapist, too. "I want you to shut your mouth, and make your case. I'm sure you know how."

Finally, Weiss followed through with what they both knew she should have been doing all along, and started stripping. She didn't meet Willow's eyes, just keeping her eyes on the floor as she disrobed. Small, economical motions, undoing buttons and knots and finally hooks until her bra fell down, leaving her standing there naked. She was a pretty little thing when pared down to the bare essentials like that, the gentle curve of her chest, the athletic definition of her limbs. A lithe toy, just begging to be used.

As she started to kneel, Willow clacked her tongue. "Oh, girl. Take a seat." Weiss looked at her with cold eyes and moved towards a bed – her own, probably – so Willow gestured towards the other one. Weiss hesitated, but set her mouth and sat down on the covers.

"Now..." Willow murmured, moving in front of Weiss. "I'm afraid I didn't properly thank you for the delightfully pathetic show you gave last time." She placed a hand on Weiss's sternum and pushed her over onto the covers. Such a little motion, but she had all the power here, and she took deep satisfaction in seeing Weiss's carefully built composure crack again with hesitation flashing on her face. Surely she hadn't been thinking that she could just eat Willow out, all efficient and quick, and be done with it?

The hesitation morphed to disbelief as Willow spread Weiss's legs open. "Someone needs to teach you how to do it properly, you know." She hummed as she traced her fingers up Weiss's thigh and cupped her. "I can't have you embarrass yourself."

Weiss tensed under her palm, and Willow started slowly grinding her hand against her. "You know, for such a neat and tidy person, I was sure you'd shave yourself." That, finally, put a bit of color on Weiss's face, and Willow threaded her fingers into her pubic hair for effect before resuming her grinding. "I must say, I'm disappointed in you. You're really letting yourself go, hmm?"

"I'm not—" Weiss blurted out, but she caught herself and stayed silent, pursing her lips.

"Not what? Seeing anyone?" Willow chuckled and pulled her hand up, pushing two fingers into Weiss's mouth. She resisted for a second on instinct, but Willow was insistent. Her tongue felt so skittish against her fingertips. "I'm surprised." She caught Weiss's tongue between two fingers and pulled it out, smirking as Weiss turned her head away. She traced her knuckles down Weiss's front, over her sternum and stomach, until she reached her crotch again and unceremoniously curled a slick finger inside. Oh, the way Weiss stiffened from it.

Willow chuckled and started sliding her finger in and out, trying to ease a second one in to make Weiss wince. "Not the fiery blonde? Or the tall, dark and mysterious? Or even the klutzy redhead?" She pushed the second finger in, and Weiss scrunched her eyes shut. "There's even the Nikos girl here, I hear. Oh, you're so tight... I don't think you've practiced much at all, have you?"

Willow could see the unwise remarks pushing their way up Weiss's throat, but Weiss managed to keep them down. Her breathing was uneven, despite her constant efforts of steadying it, and her thighs jerked when Willow pressed her palm against her clit. And... Oh.

Willow smiled, and she could swear she saw Weiss pray. "My. Getting wet already, are you?"

It felt wonderful against Willow's fingers. Slick, unwanted arousal, easing the passage of her fingers as she slid them in and out. Weiss didn't respond, just clenching her fists into tight balls. Oh, she was just precious. It would be unreasonable to expect Willow to not take advantage of this panting little wreck on the bed.

"Have you ever tasted yourself?" Willow murmured and curled her fingers up. A tiny motion which sent Weiss's hips floating upwards. "Because I'm looking forward to." With her other hand, she pulled Weiss's clitoral hood back to a delicious little shiver and lowered her head, slowly, enjoying every moment of tension building in Weiss's body before her lips met her skin.

A beautiful gasp escaped Weiss's lips as Willow sucked on her clit. Just a little flick of her tongue had Weiss's hips trying to buck away, so she settled down more firmly, wrapping her arm over Weiss's leg to keep her down. Willow hummed against Weiss's clit. "You've always been such a sensitive girl," she murmured, and started licking at her lazily, drifting down to taste her. Small, soft lips parted easily around her tongue, and the resulting gasp that drove from Weiss was an intoxicating mixture of disbelief and panic. She certainly tried to keep it down, but it was very, very difficult to ignore someone between your legs, and Willow had all the time in the world.

Soft, teasing licks around her labia, pushing her tongue in to trace where her fingers had just been. Wetting her exposed clit and blowing a cool puff of air on it before tracing circles around it with the tip of her tongue. Small little chips off Weiss's facade, one throb and choked moan at a time. Soon enough, Weiss was flushed and panting, her arms twitching and jerking as she didn't know what to do with them.

"Such a needy thing you have here," Willow murmured and sucked on Weiss's clit again. Weiss bucked and her hand landed on Willow's head, and Willow nudged it away. "Your chest. Grope it. That should keep your hands busy."

"I—" Weiss shook her head, "Please, stop, I'm—"

"Be a dear," Willow said, digging her fingernails into Weiss's thigh. "And do as you're told."

The pain seemed to shock Weiss to action, and she jerked her arms up, lightly cupping her breasts.

"Do better." Willow gave her clit a long, harsh lick. "Work your fingers. I want to see your skin red."

It was finally, finally becoming too much for Weiss, and she let out a beautiful, thin little whimper as Willow sucked on her clit again. The sound – pathetic, desperate, terrified – sent a ripple of pure, buzzing arousal down Willow's stomach and into her core. A sheen of sweat was building on Weiss's brow, and she was barely holding it together with her breathing erratic. One orgasm would shatter that, and Willow couldn't wait.

Fast, rhythmic sucking, one hand holding Weiss's hips steady and the other sliding a finger between her now soaked folds. Weiss groaned, almost a sob, and Willow pushed through it, feeling her clench around her fingers.

There were so many things she wanted to tell Weiss, so many things to call her, but there was no word in any language that would drive the needle deeper than her tongue did, firmly pressed against Weiss's clit as she forced her over the edge.

The way she tried to hold it in made it the most erotic thing Willow had seen. The breath catching in her slender throat, her fingers twitching against her chest and her whole body tensing up, legs quivering for a handful of beautiful seconds before she released, choking out a sob and spasming against Willow's hold. Helpless and powerless display as Weiss bucked and writhed, her strained breaths turning to whimpers. Such a bitter thing to go through, but all the more sweet on Willow's tongue.

Surely she knew one wouldn't be enough. Willow held her mouth there, keeping the rhythm.

"Stop—Please, enough!" Weiss stuttered between her panting breaths. Oversensitive and overstimulated, and completely under Willow's power.

The second orgasm took both of them by surprise, and Weiss managed to barely whimper out a "No!" before going into an unwilling, pained moan as her body trembled. She was clenching so hard, making a mess on Willow's face. Every lick, every brush against her oversensitive clit sent her spiraling further.

"S—Stop, no more, I can't!" Weiss hiccuped, her moans turning to sobs. "C—can't! I can't! Please!"

Idly, Willow wondered how far she could push it before something broke. But that wasn't for today, so she charitably eased off, pulling her mouth away with a wet pop and just blowing a lazy exhale against Weiss's swollen clit. Just that was enough to drive another sob from her, her thighs jerking against Willow's head.

"There we go," Willow cooed and indulged in a slow, light lick, smiling at how that made Weiss flinch. "Just let it go. Good girl."

Gods, she looked beautiful like that. All pretenses cast aside, leaving behind just a damp, aching and sore doll, her limbs trembling and jaw quivering, each unsteady breath halfway to a sob. Such a frail little plaything.

Willow needed to have it. She wiped her hands on the covers and straddled Weiss, hastily pulling down her panties and pantyhose just below her knees. "Now," Willow breathed out, fingertips tingling with the feeling of dominance. "Do what you are good at."

The sob Weiss let out against her pussy was nothing short of heavenly, and Willow let out a long-held moan. Gods, that face... Prim and proper princess, so smart and independent. She looked so perfect with all that stripped away from her, her makeup running, eyes brimming with tears and face smeared with Willow's arousal. The way she sobbed made her licking erratic, but all the more better for it.

"That's it," Willow groaned. "There you go. There you fucking go." She could stay here forever, on top of Weiss, lording her power over her, but the urgent, building pleasure in her came all too soon. She huffed, grinding her hips harder against Weiss's face and tried to hold on. Every sound, every motion, every desperate flick of her tongue was too much, and she came fast, the pleasure cresting and breaking.

Her moan peaked and she gripped Weiss's hair to hold her still, the buzz of ecstasy shaking her legs as she rutted against Weiss's face with jerky motions. She wanted to save that moment and savor it, the tingling buzz spreading from Weiss's tongue all over her body.

She almost collapsed, head spinning. The edges of her visions blurred as she finally leaned back, giving them both a chance to breathe and filling the room with the sound of her deep breaths and Weiss's unsteady ones.

"Well..." she said, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. She had half a mind to ride Weiss to a second orgasm with her face so slick and ready there, but she was sadly on a time budget. "I think you've learned something this time."

Weiss just set her lips and looked away. She seemed to be above wailing which was just fine with Willow, as the wavering breaths were even better.

"Manners, manners." Willow grabbed Weiss's ear and forced her to look her in the eyes. "Did you have something to say?"

Weiss swallowed. "May... May I please stay?" she mumbled, voice broken from having had to hold back so much.

Good girl, she was catching on.

"Well." Willow smiled. "You can be persuasive when just you put your mind to it. Perhaps..." She let the sentence hang, a pleasant twinge forming in her stomach as she watched Weiss's breathing quicken. "Perhaps I've had a lapse in judgement, You seem to be quite equipped to not have any..." She looked around the dorm. "...existing privileges rescinded."

Weiss deflated with a nod, letting her head fall back onto the covers.

"Just one little thing."

And the tension was back. Oh, she was so much fun to toy with. Willow pursed her lips and reached back, gently cupping Weiss's pussy which sent her flinching as if struck. "A young woman like yourself should look after herself." She threaded her fingers into her bush and gave it a light tug, just hard enough to be painful. "Shave it. The next time I see you, I want to have you all smooth and tidy. Understood?"

That thought would keep Willow busy for a good while. Weiss sneaking into the communal showers to do her grooming, a little ritual that would remind her exactly of whose finger she was wrapped around. Maybe someone would comment on it, and Weiss would have to brush it off. Maybe Weiss would think of the taste on her tongue when she next time pushed her hand under her waistband. It was all just so captivating.

Weiss grimaced but nodded, too dejected to comment. Poor thing was all out of fight. As Willow tilted her head and looked at her expectantly, Weiss added, "Thank you."

"There we go," Willow said happily and patted Weiss's damp cheek a few times. "I knew you'd pull through." Then, she sighed and clambered up, letting Weiss curl up and cover herself. The bed had some dark spots on it, and Willow tutted. "Well, I'm afraid I have a Bullhead to catch and you have some laundry to do, so I'm afraid we'll have to part ways." She leaned down to press a kiss on Weiss's temple, who didn't even react to it. "Until next time!"

Oh, hiya Weiss! What's... Uh, that's a lot of components.

Sorry for the mess, I got carried away. Junior put me in touch with a few people since Blake wouldn't.

I, um, see. Why, exactly?

You know, the White Fang uses precisely this type of IED for a lot of their attacks. It's pretty crude, so you can fabricate an untrackable copy relatively easily. I think we've lost one family craft to these kinds of things.

That, er. That sounds dangerous?

Oh, I assure you, it's purely for educational purposes.

Chapter Text

"We're going hunting."

And that's all it took. On paper, Ilia was present at the tribe only as a "neutral observer" – what gobbledygood that did, she had no idea – so, technically, she wasn't taking orders. She wasn't supposed to aid the tribe, but as it happened, technicalities bowed to practicalities, and one didn't say "no" to Raven.

Well, Raven telling her to join a raid would've been a bridge too far, but a Grimm hunt? Ilia just about tripped over herself to not decline because of how bored out of her skull she was watching the tribespeople bumble about and give her glancing looks. She was supposed to be moving and stabbing things, so while she wasn't a stranger to long periods of boredom, those were supposed to be interspersed with bursts of frantic activity.

A brutally paced run through the woods fit just fine. Raven whipped somewhere in front, a blur of black and red disappearing behind a fallen tree trunk which Ilia vaulted over. Loose leaves pattered her face and sticks bounced off her Aura as she picked up the pace, pumping her legs harder. The trail underfoot suddenly turned to a tangled bush, and Ilia launched herself over it, grabbing a branch and hopping over another to land on more even ground.

She skid to a stop next to Raven, who was standing in a small clearing. Ilia panted from the exertion, and she allowed herself a small grin at seeing Raven flushed and winded too, a few leaves in her hair. Her eyes, though, were as sharp as ever, fixed to the side of the clearing. With rushing sounds of their mad dash gone, the forest was eerily silent with just a few birdcalls filling the space.

Raven scowled. "They're gone."

Gods knew how the hell she did that. Ilia had never had the sharpest Auric senses – she knew well enough if someone wanted to stab her – so she took Raven's word for it, huffing and dropping her hand on the trigger of her sword to turn it off from standby. The slight buzz against her fingertips ceased as the Dust inside went inert. "Oh, damn. I was looking forward to seeing some action."

Raven made a noncommittal sound and walked around the clearing, looking at a tree. It had a few deep gouges on it which told Ilia absolutely nothing. Now, if it had been a mixed-base IED she had been looking at, Ilia would have had more input to give, but this kind of tracking wasn't her forte.

"I think they're migratory." Raven paused. "Or running from something."

Ilia grinned. Raven stood there like a bad omen with her face etched with stern consideration, her hand so naturally resting on the pommel of her sword as the pure Dust blades slowly rotated in their scabbard. Even without her Maiden powers, she just had a stare that seemed to smolder. "Gee. I wonder what that might be."

Raven looked at her. "What?"

"I..." The joke had seemed funny. She didn't want to kill it by explaining it. She also did not want to say that it was nothing because nobody ever dropped a topic after that, so she just gestured at Raven. "You're glowering there like an army crammed in one person. Personally I'd rather not be on the continent if you were after me."

Raven didn't stoop to rolling her eyes, so she just turned away and started walking. "You're hardly a Grimm."

"I've got some fight in me!" She jogged a few steps to catch up, and Raven didn't resume the blistering pace, probably to hold a conversation. "Doesn't mean I'm an idiot."

Most of the time. Some of the time. Some of the time when it mattered. Look, it was a work in progress.

"That remains to be seen." Raven projected an aura of authority, but there was amusement in her voice. She was enjoying this, being out in the woods on a mission. If that reminded Raven of happier, earlier times, Ilia made a mental note to absolutely not bring that up. See? Not an idiot.

"Pft. They didn't put me here to babysit your lot if they thought I couldn't hold my own." She flicked her sword out, doing a needle-fast stab she had picked off Adam which ended with the sword back in its sheath. "Not my fault there was no Grimm to show off on."

"I don't doubt your skill in stabbing things. It's the other part I'm undecided on."

Ilia scoffed. "Want me to solve a crossword for you? Five across, starting with B?"

"You know, a few months ago I was passively ready to run you through due to your allegiances. If you are as scared of me as you say, then maybe going on a sudden, undeclared hunt alone with me deep into my wilderness wasn't the smartest of choices." Raven's scabbard clicked, and a low-handing branch fell down in front of her with her just seamlessly stepping over it.

While Ilia's Auric sense wasn't the sharpest, she easily picked up on that, the burst of Aura being used so casually mid-sentence. A part of her told her that she should drop the conversation for her own good, but she didn't feel like it. She had been cooped up in a tent for weeks now, and being out and about was liberating. So was talking to Raven. She was no stranger to holding conversations with dangerous people, and Raven's usually so stern and mysterious appearance just begged a little bit of needling.

"What?" Ilia spread her arms and hopped over the branch. "You're not going to kill me because you'd have annoying people asking annoying questions. So you're either taking me out on a walk like a good handler, in which case thank you, or you're seducing me, in which case by all means."

Ilia shut her mouth. Maybe the runner's high had got to her. Raven was a one-woman army. Ilia hadn't even seen her arm move when she cut that branch off, so it wasn't a question of if she could turn her to ribbons in a blink. She was a continentally dangerous person even before she ascended to Maidenhood, and right now, there really was nobody within a gunshot who would hear Ilia scream.

Though. In the spirit of honesty. Each of those was sort of a turn-on. She wasn't sure what that said about her, or about her earlier assessment about whether she was or wasn't an idiot. But, a counterpoint: Raven, tall and glowering, looming over her and tilting her chin up with the point of a slowly smoking Burn Dust blade.

Raven continued at a walking pace, not looking back at Ilia. "I would have you leashed if I was taking you for a walk."

"Well, isn't that..." Ilia trailed off as the gears in her head engaged. She felt like she was staring at a very dangerous coinflip with the two remaining options. Raven stopped and turned around to look at her, face unreadable and eyes their usual dark red. Red like blood and Burn Dust, red like blazing fall.

Ah, fight or flight. An old friend, though in the back of her mind, she was considering whether that phrase needed a third F. She swallowed, blinked and looked down despite the tension crawling down her neck, and patted her midsection. "Huh. My innards are still inside." She looked up at Raven with a quirked lip and almost enough confidence to back it. "So, what's it going to be, then?"

Raven looked at her for a long moment. Detached, appraising. Somehow, in a way that made Ilia's stomach curl pleasantly, before Raven cracked a smile. "Somehow, I completely understand and still disbelieve the fact that you've managed to stay alive." She turned around and resumed her walk, leaving Ilia standing there until she blinked herself back to present and jogged to catch up.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Raven only laughed in response, and Ilia huffed. She did like that laugh, but she had questions. "I'm perfectly capable of keeping myself alive." Few close calls notwithstanding. "And I've heard glowing if breathy reviews of some of my other skills."

Raven shot her an amused look. "I'm old enough to be your mother."

Oldest line in the book. "And I'm old enough to fuck both you and your daughter. Next question."

Reading Blake's recommendations had been worth it. Though, as the amusement hardened on Raven's face, Ilia rescinded that opinion. "I can appreciate the snark, but there is such a thing as flying too close to the sun."

And straight back to 'flight' it was. Ilia put on her best disarming smile. "Wouldn't dream of it, ma'am." For good measure, she gave her a salute.

"You," Raven said, stopping again and turning around. "Are interesting."

There were probably quite a few aphorisms extolling the virtue of never ever putting oneself in a position to be called that, but as Raven, all tall dark and imperious, looked down at her quizzically, Ilia couldn't help but think that in this case, it might have been worth it.

Might. A quick check of the internal state of her innards vindicated her for the moment.

"Am I, now?" Ilia said, mostly to buy herself time. Raven had a presence to her which made it hard to think straight, and with her so close, she could feel the faint pins and needles of an active foreign Aura wafting against her own. If there had been birds around before, they were long gone, and there was just the quiet rustling of leaves in the wind to fill the silence. "Well, I'm glad you find me useful."

Raven took a half-step forward, and the pins and needles intensified, drying Ilia's throat up. "Now that," she said, leaning down and tilting Ilia's chin up with a finger, "remains to be seen."

Would asking her to use her sword instead of her finger make her more interesting? Best not try.

"I..." Ilia started, righting her train of thought. "Think that that is best demonstrated. No?" Her back touched tree bark, and she realized she had at some point backed against it. Raven grinned, lifting her hand up Ilia's chin with her knuckles brushing against her cheek before she splayed her fingers on Ilia's head, lightly pushing her down.

Gravity was a strong force, turns out, and Ilia's knees hit the forest floor. There was quite a bit of height difference between them even with her on her tip-toes which certainly made this angle a very interesting one to experience, but she was still at the perfect height with her nose brushing against the front of Raven's skirt. She felt only a distant urge to straddle one of those well-worn gorgeous stomp-me boots as she wrapped her arm around one of Raven's legs, her hand landing on the promised land of skin where the skirt ended and the boot began.

Ilia didn't quite track the flurry of motions that followed. Unbuttoning things, stretching waistband, her fingers pulling fabric down Raven's thigh. What she did track perfectly was the curly hair against her fingers, soft lips parting around her tongue and the shallow, pleased exhale from somewhere far above.

This was, probably, a bad idea, but thankfully, stopping would be a far worse one. There was a pleasant buzz that came with simply serving someone, from giving, from being useful. The word sent a tingle down Ilia's stomach. She dragged her tongue and wrapped her lips around Raven's clit, and the deep breath Raven took was more than a reward. It was the goal. She wanted that. She wanted Raven to feel good, to have her gasp and clench and shiver. Strong, powerful, confident—and, somehow, so vulnerable, right now, to nobody else but Ilia.

It was a heady thought. Almost as heady as the overbearing pressure of her Aura roiling under her skin or the taste on her tongue as she kissed Raven, mouth open and panting as a hand lowered against her head, fingers seeking purchase before they found her ponytail and grabbed tight, pushing her head forward. Deeper, to a better angle, because Raven wanted her. Ilia let out an indulgent moan as she pushed her tongue in, the hand in her hair tightening its grip. Being guided felt good. She followed the motions and the rocking of Raven's hips, chasing the exhales and the murmurs of encouragement, the deepening breaths, the more urgent sounds.

Gods, she ached. Ached to have more, to be in Raven's position. She squeezed her left hand between her legs tight, shivering from the friction, but she didn't want distractions. Not yet. She wanted Raven, more of her sounds, her fingers, her orgasms—

"There—" Raven groaned, her hand trembling against Ilia's scalp in a way that made something deep inside her throb. She kept licking, just like that—tight, fast circles that made her tongue ache, but she didn't slow down. Couldn't. She was useful, and she'd be damned if—

Raven pushed her off with a gasp, her legs shaking slightly. Ilia blinked at the suddenly bright sunlight in her eyes, the pleasantly skin-toned darkness of the skirt replaced by the far more mundane forest glade. She squinted, giving her eyes a few moments to adjust before she looked up, smiling as she saw Raven's disheveled and flushed face. She gave Raven a slow smile, and with a measured motion, licked her lips before swallowing.

"Well?" Ilia said and wiped the area around her mouth on the back of her hand. Even in a post-orgasm haze, Raven retained a level of severity, like she was just winded, no more than from a light run. The hand on Ilia's head had steadied, but she very much remembered how it had trembled just a few moments ago.

"Acceptable," Raven said, ending the word with a smile.

"Glad to be of service." Ilia blew her an exaggerated kiss.

"Now. The only words," Raven said as she leaned down, "are going to be 'thank you' until 'please no more'. On your back."

Ilia blinked, her previous confidence faltering. "On my—"

And Raven was all over her, all but tackling her down on the forest floor. Some irrational part of Ilia protested out loud, but that was quickly schooled to a high-pitched moan as her thighs clamped around Raven's hand.

Chapter Text

Pyrrha had come a long way these last few months. She had stopped running her mouth fairly soon into her training – Vernal had a knack for putting a quick stop to any kind of smart-mouthing – but she had stayed remarkably obstinate in spite of that. Glaring at them, holding back, lying through her teeth when she told them she didn't want to orgasm. In some way, Raven could almost respect the tenacity, if only it wasn't misplaced. Pyrrha just didn't seem to grasp her role in life, so she clung to all kinds of delusions of grandeur. Surely she must've known it was a futile endeavor from the start.

Futile, but entertaining. Raven enjoyed watching the downward spiral of all that determination chipping and crumbling under pressure, each day leaving a proud Huntress that much less full of herself and that much more fitting the mold of a scared little ornament. As Raven watched her shiver in her bindings, she thought that maybe Pyrrha was finally starting to understand. She was entertainment, and that was all.

Raven had planted her in the middle of the camp for others to appreciate too. Her back was ramrod straight, her arms tied to a pole which ran behind her and through her collar to anchor her in place. Her legs were tied calves to thighs and spread wide open against a horizontal bar running behind her, leaving her toes just barely touching the ground and putting all of her on display. The final touch was a simple red blindfold Raven rarely saw reason to remove, in part because of the way it seemed to make goosebumps run down Pyrrha's back when she dragged her out of the tent into the open air. You'd think she would get used to the fact that her body was public property, but somehow the occasional jeers and comments from unseen onlookers still made her try to shy away.

With her figure, a pedestal was the natural place to keep her. Everything from her full chest and toned midsection to the desperate mess between her legs demanded to be shown off like the prize she was. Sunlight glinted off a strand of clear arousal which stretched from her lips to the ground, advertising how thoroughly trained and receptive her body was. Release was something she was built to give, not have, and she had done little to earn it. That willful mouth too, now silent and set in a tight line, was designed for nothing but making people wonder how to properly put it to a good use.

Raven walked around her, watching Pyrrha's shallow breathing before lowering her hand on Pyrrha's shoulder from behind, the contact making Pyrrha's breath hitch. Good. Fear was good. Raven squeezed her hand and slid it over Pyrrha's throat, leaving it there. Her pulse was hammering against Raven's hold, whole body trembling slightly. Poor little thing was so tense she might snap. Maybe she already had at some point, but Raven hadn't felt the need to ask her.

Raven crouched down, Omen's scabbard lightly touching the ground behind her, and she put her palm against Pyrrha's midsection. Pyrrha sucked her stomach in on an instinct, and only let out a thin whimper as Raven slid her hand lower. Just a single finger gliding between Pyrrha's lips was enough to make her thighs flex against their bindings, and as Raven lifted her hand up, a strand of sticky arousal connected her finger to Pyrrha's pussy. Raven scoffed and wiped her finger on Pyrrha's thigh.

"You're a mess," she said, "and everyone can see that. Now that you're finally staying put like you're supposed to, all that there's left is just a wet, pathetic mess. Underneath all that bravado was the real you."

"Y-yes, ma'am." Pyrrha's voice was weak and strained from all it had been put through, but at least she remembered to answer quickly and properly. The other main words in her vocabulary were 'I'm sorry, ma'am', which saw much more sparse use.

"What are you?" Raven asked and lowered her hand again to place fingers on either side of Pyrrha's pussy. Carefully, she spread Pyrrha open, hearing her gasp and feeling how she throbbed emptily against the open air, another strand leaking out of her.

"I'm..." She hesitated, but before Raven could admonish her, she reacted on her own, flinching back from the mere memory of many reprisals.. "P-property! I'm property, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am."

The arousal and shame might have kept her dull, but panic had a way of sharpening thoughts. Her breaths slowly grew more shallow and unsteady in Raven's presence, so Raven saw no reason to break the moment, letting it stretch on until Pyrrha bodily trembled in place.

"And what is it you do?" Raven asked. Pyrrha was oversensitive and overwhelmed, so the panic also had her flailing, grasping at straws.

"What I'm told, ma'am." A terrified whimper escaped Pyrrha's lips as Raven lifted her hand up back to her throat, squeezing lightly and settling behind her.

"You do what I tell you to." Raven leaned in and pulled Pyrrha against the pole by her throat. Pyrrha tried to respond, but the grip was tight, so she managed to just choke out something indistinct. She just had such a physical body. It needed to be touched, slapped, choked and used. It yearned for it, all those muscles and curves designed to go taut under stress. Raven inhaled in the feeling of the contact, the panicked breaths against her palm, the scent of fear on Pyrrha's cheek when she pressed in close to her ear.

"And I," Raven continued, "am giving you an order. You are going to cum." Pyrrha stiffened, her breaths stuck in her throat. She didn't need time to prepare for it. She wasn't trained to think, so all she had to do was just to do it, and so Raven pulled Pyrrha tighter against the pole and started counting. "Five. Four. Three."

Pyrrha let out a gargled cough, thrashing against her bindings. She was mouthing something, but Raven pressed on.

"Two. One. Cum."

A second passed as Pyrrha stiffened, thighs quivering, until she gargled out a moan and started bucking wildly, her muscles tensing as the orgasm tore through her. A few more splatters joined the rest on the dusty ground underneath her as her pussy spasmed around nothing, and when Raven let go, she gasped deeply and slumped in her restraints, still trembling and coughing weakly between desperate inhales.

"At least something sticks." Raven glanced at the wet mess between Pyrrha's thighs. "Maybe you'll eventually be useful."

She didn't bother looking back to the aftermath as she got up and started walking back to her tent. Pyrrha would wait for her.

Chapter Text

Emerald grumbled as she snuck into one of the drying rooms. Come slush season, they'd be packed with miserably damp uniforms from unlucky grunts who hadn't gotten the desk job they had dreamt of, but for the moment it was every soldier's dream: empty, out of the way and with a bench to nap on. Military life had been tough at first, but Emerald was nothing if not adaptive. Yes, Atlas was a hellhole, and Winter was a slave-driving monster.

The latter counted as a strict positive as far as Emerald was concerned, as she was going out of her way to keep her Aura subdued so that she could enjoy nursing the select few bruises she had gotten the last time, which also doubled as excellent practice at slacking on the job because she definitely should've been out doing stuff. That valiant effort was somewhat hindered by the fact that she was classified as a "consultant first class", and whatever the hell that meant was a mystery to her outside of the fact that she had to sit through meetings she had nothing to do with. At first, she had thought that Winter was covering for her by giving her easy gigs, but she was pretty sure by now that it was exclusively to fuck with her. Nothing like a waking up at oh-five-hundred so that she could wait around until oh-fuck-you to nod to some egghead who somehow needed her reaffirmation that the Grimm were bad.

Between those, she was getting a crash course on how to seem like she was dreadfully busy. For all the pomp, circumstance and fearsome reputation the good Atlesian Institute of Armed Forces fostered, making oneself look busy was the single most important survival tactic. She was no slough in sneaking or subterfuge, but some of the stuff the recruits pulled here she had hard time replicating with her Semblance. As soon as an the boot of an officer who cared stepped into the building, the grunts somehow melded into the woodwork. One time, Emerald watched in awe as a Commisar walked right past a grunt in the opposite barracks who was, clearly, impatiently and sternly waiting for an important assignment to arrive. Back straight, head up, arms crossed, the whole works. Even had that nuanced slight scowl of someone who knows he has crucially important things to do which are being delayed by factors beyond his control. She would have completely believed it too, if she hadn't seen the fucker fast asleep ten seconds earlier.

Not that that'd fly if the Ice Empress herself showed up, but luckily for the grunts, she stayed cooped up in meetings and whatever else kept half the kingdom running.

She had a lot to learn. She sat down heavily on the bench after pushing it against the wall and lay down on it. Maybe she'd get the hang of falling asleep as soon as she was horizontal, too, but that seemed like a superpower beyond her reach.

She closed her eyes. Ice Empress was a really nice nickname. Someone had even made a rather striking sketch of her with that title in one of the bathroom stalls, having taken the artistic liberty of replacing her rapier with a riding crop. It, along with the added hint of a garter belt, were artful enough that Emerald had added a limerick next to it which started with "Once I saw an empress / in such a state of undress /" which she was rather proud of, even if she had to stretch the rhyme to make the end work with "frostbite." Shame that the staff had their own toilets because Winter would love to see that one. And, in the event that she somehow did, Emerald had covered her tracks by writing it with her left hand, so she would be in the clear unless forensic analysis was involved. Which, on further consideration, Winter probably wasn't above leveraging if it gave her a reason to make Emerald regret great many things. Maybe she should go and clean the poem off.

Bzzzt.

Her Scroll notification. "Motherfuckers—" she growled as she opened her eyes and dug the phone out.

New meeting invite

She let her head fall back on the bench. Just her luck. She tapped it open and watched the Atlas symbol spin while the thing loaded.

AIAF Calendar Companion
05-10-786 10:15–10:45
Topic: You are going to make me cum.
Participants: Act. Gen. Schnee, W; CFC Sustrai, E
⚠ This meeting is mandatory for employees on probationary status.
Accept ✅    Decline ❌

Correction: this was not her luck. She tapped the green checkmark and scrambled to her feet.

—♦—

Winter was pulling off her necktie when Emerald arrived to her office. Shame, it was fun to tug on it, but before Emerald could voice that opinion, Winter spoke over her. "I have twenty minutes, which means you have fifteen, which was four minutes ago." She scowled and yanked at the knot forcefully to pull it off before she started unbuttoning her pants.

"Yes, ma'am." Usually, Emerald made the title drip with sarcasm (and/or poorly contained lust; she fine-tuned the ratios depending on how many and how ranking people were present) but now she found herself dumbly following Winter to her desk. Her body moved before she had even the chance to consider bratting about it.

Was this how the Atlesian military brainwashed their people into obedience?

Winter collapsed in her chair with her pants and panties down to her knees, one hand finding Emerald's hair and pulling her in for a quick, harsh kiss on the mouth.

You know what, maybe she was entirely fine being brainwashed like this. All she managed was a surprised moan into Winter's mouth before she found herself on her knees, head spinning and her hands pulling Winter's panties all the way down to her ankles. If the kiss hadn't sent a quiver down her spine, then the fact that Winter hadn't at any point dropped her scowl certainly did. She leaned in, risking a slow nuzzling up of Winter's thigh before pressing her mouth on her, looking up and – yes, still scowling. The tension in her back bloomed in a full-blown shiver, and she fluttered her eyes shut as she gave Winter a long lick.

She regretted closing her eyes immediately as Winter let out a soft sigh, having let her head fall back on the footrest. Still scowling, but marginally less. Her features rarely softened, even when Emerald settled on a rhythm and started circling her tongue. She had no idea how Winter kept the look up, even with someone between her legs like that. Emerald could top just fine even on a bad day, but it was hard to keep up a poker face when you were all flushed, sore, sweaty and out of breath, even if you were sitting on someone. Winter, though, could keep the air of domineering regality and hold eye contact even while halfway through an orgasm, which was equal parts impressive and, frankly, scary.

And, should go without saying, something which kept Emerald busy in the shower stalls when privacy allowed. Orgasming under Winter, under her orders, was an experience. She ached in sympathy as she leaned forward and pushed her tongue in her, remembering the last time they had had time for a proper session.

"You are going to cum for me."

"I didn't tell you to stop. Again."

"Beg. Not with your words. With your tongue."

Emerald moaned as Winter's hand fell down on her head, resting there. She wanted so much more than a quickie. She wanted to give so much more than a quickie. Talking over Winter and getting gloriously shut up, having those gloved hands roam over her and make her hurt, the sole of that boot pressing between her legs with an alarmingly fast countdown. Massaging her, taunting her, worshiping that perfect chest her uniform half-hid away, staring into those ice-blue eyes while riding her fingers and breaking down around them.

Most of all, she wanted to make her forget the papers on her desk and the weight of the kingdom on her shoulders. If for just a moment.

But, with fifteen minutes, there was only so much she could do. Emerald focused on her mission, keeping her tongue on Winter's clit. Not too fast, not too slow – a lot of trial and error to find that sweet spot – to push her to the edge. Winter pressed her hand against Emerald's head harder, pushing her in. The only real tell was her breathing which grew more measured and forceful, followed by a wavering exhale as she pressed her thighs around Emerald's head, her hips rising slightly off the chair.

It was a fast and efficient orgasm. More maintenance than anything, but for once Emerald couldn't complain about feeling used. She pulled up, mouth slick, and waited for Winter to look down at her before she swallowed.

"Fuck," Winter said under her breath, which was more of a compliment than most standing ovations were.

Emerald smirked. "I serve the nation, ma'am."

"Damn well you do." Winter took a deep breath and, clearly by using some trick of her bullshit Semblance, wiped all trace of just having orgasmed from her face and pulled her pants up to button them. "I will..." She scoffed as her Scroll buzzed and she picked it up, flicking through different screens with lightning speed. An incoming call which she declined, a calendar popup which she tapped and closed, and a message to which she replied with one word. The Scroll buzzed again as she pocketed it. "I'll debrief you this Thursday. The Council meeting doesn't have a set end time, but it's fortunately an in-person meeting which means that I can personally strangle anyone who brings up the godsdamn street lamp spacing to drag the thing out."

Emerald have her a sloppy salute. "Aye, General. Want me to prep?"

That was very much a double-edged question because the evening could go a lot of ways, and Winter could be mean with the strap.

"Acting General," Winter growled and re-tied her necktie. "I have enough people up my ass complaining about a power-grab even without the full title." She paused and straightened the necktie. "Speaking of, yes, please do." Sixty seconds, tops, and Winter was back to her usual self, sharp and just about to frost over. There was a reason why the half of the academy which didn't call her the Ice Empress called her just the "General".

Emerald sighed. "Winter..." The Scroll buzzed again in her pocket, and Emerald shook her head. "Nevermind. Try to go easy on the strangling because I'd hate an early election season."

"Duly noted." Winter walked up to her and took her head between her hands. Warm, even through the gloves, and she leaned in to give her a kiss. Quick, but soft, and Emerald found herself leaning in as Winter pulled away. "Don't do anything I'd have to reprimand you over. In the official, boring way."

Emerald smiled and butted her lightly on the forehead. "I'll figure out a sweet spot."

"I'm sure of it." With that, Winter turned and opened the door, pointedly keeping it open until Emerald walked out to lock it.

Chapter Text

Gods, Melanie was so hot. Her pale skin blushed under Miltia's touch, soft, yielding and so sensitive. Bruises and bite marks of varying degrees of faded ran up and down her body, some of them enough to elicit adorable little squirming and wincing. She just looked so... So... Perfect like this. Laid down on their bed, wrists tied to the headboard and looking up at Miltia with that uncertain look of hers. Almost as if she was scared of Miltia.

And oh, so deliciously vulnerable. She was keeping her legs clamped together, full well knowing that Miltia enjoyed the struggle, but she could keep that prize for herself for a little while longer if she really wanted to. Miltia would pry those knees apart in due time. But in the meanwhile...

"M—Mil!" She gasped as Miltia leaned down and sank her teeth into the supple underside of her breast. Miltia hummed and sucked on the spot. The sounds she made. Small gasps and pants and whimpers, just like from Melanie's own mouth. Well, not quite, and that little difference made it all the more intoxicating. Melanie was quieter, more reserved. More hesitant, and she moaned with this beautiful peaking sound that soaked into Miltia like the aphrodisiac it was. Miltia moved up, nibbling a small shrinking ring around Melanie's left nipple. So hard already, and she couldn't keep from pressing her teeth in more firmly. Melanie pushed and pulled with her shoulders, trying to get away, until Miltia rolled the nipple between her teeth and—there it was, that pained keening moan.

Miltia shuddered and let go to take in Melanie as a whole. If it was narcissistic to get off on watching a perfect copy of her own body squirm and writhe like this, but who wouldn't? She knew she was hot, and feeling those perfectly symmetrical breasts pressing against hers was satisfying on a deeply biological. She licked her lips and traced her hand up Melanie's body, pressing a thumb into a bruise on the side of her breast. Almost identical, at least. That just made it better.

"Ow..." Melanie mumbled, and Miltia leaned down to kiss it off her mouth. Such a quick, skilled tongue, hot and submissive, easily giving way like she always did. Miltia dominated the kiss, pressing Melanie down and exploring her mouth. She could taste the strawberry lip balm, but underneath that, there was just... Melanie. Her taste. The thought sent a pleasant shiver down her core. All of her, all for Miltia and nobody, nobody else. She didn't know what she had done in a previous life to get a sister like Melanie, and she took full advantage of it. Not that she left Melanie unsatisfied, either. She took very good care of her. Just like now.

"You're so fucking hot like that." Miltia panted against her mouth, letting her breathe. She pulled back just enough to let their shared spit trickle down, and as Melanie made to turn her head, Miltia grabbed her by the jaw to keep her head straight. "Take it. Just take it."

"Miltia, we..."

Gods, so fucking hot. The spit drooling down between her lips, making her slur her words. Closed mouth, the reluctant swallowing motion of her throat, the little slit of white teeth as she parted her lips again. Miltia kissed her again, nibbling on her lower lip. She was just so quiet and vulnerable. So available, every part of her open for Miltia to explore.

She couldn't help it. She bit down and moaned over Melanie's yelp as she tasted a hint of copper. It burned so sweetly on her tongue, and she had share it with a forceful kiss. It tasted like a drug, just like the rest of her. "Sorry, Mel-Mel, I just got carried away," she said, barely pulling her lips off her. "I'll make it up to you."

She always did, each and every time.

She reached for the bedside table and pulled out a vibrating wand. As she clicked it to its lowest setting, the quiet buzz filled the room and Melanie put on the most precious fucking expression. Like a deer in headlights, eyes wide like she was prey underneath her. Maybe she was, just a little, but Miltia knew what made her tick.

Melanie swallowed. "No more than the two setting, okay?"

The way she presented that as a question told Miltia all she needed to know, and she just smiled and snaked the toy between Melanie's legs, shifting her own stance to straddle Melanie's hips and keeping her flat on the mattress. It was easy to tell when the vibrator found its mark by Melanie taking a sharp inhale and bucking her hips against Miltia. The honesty of her body was breathtaking, especially when Miltia clicked the toy to its second setting. Bucking, wincing, gritting her teeth and her breaths coming in short bursts. Poor thing looked so overstimulated, barely able to hold still, but it was an act. Miltia knew how she really came.

"S—slow down!" Melanie groaned, squirming against Miltia's hips. What she was actually doing was putting on a show because between her tied arms and Miltia's weight on top of her, she was just making her chest jiggle.

"Calm down, baby," Miltia murmured and angled the vibrator better to knead it against Melanie. Her body was so hot. She was so hot.

"You're hur—Hurting!"

Fuck, the way her voice peaked. Her breaths were coming in shallower and shallower, building up to that one breathless moment where she looked prettier than anything in the world. She just had to. Had to. A little bit of hurting was nothing. It was necessary.

Miltia clicked the vibrator to its third setting, cutting the breaths short and forcing a choked shout from Melanie as the orgasm shot through her. She bucked, whimpered, twisted and turned, and Miltia took it all in. She was so deliciously raw when she came like this. Casting off all pretenses and showing off the real her.

"S—Sto—Stop!" Melanie sputtered between her frantic gasps. A bit of spittle flew onto her lips, and Miltia leaned down to lick it off. There was still a hint of pink on it. Just like with red and white mixing, and wasn't that the perfect fit?

"Cri—" Melanie shook her head, eyes scrunched shut. "Crimson! Crimson!"

"Shh. Don't ruin it, baby," she murmured and put her hand over Melanie's mouth. She didn't mean it. Gods, she was so submissive like this when she was helpless and orgasming on command.

"Pleaf—" Melanie hiccuped, mouthing against Miltia's hand.

"Shh," Miltia cooed. "Trust me. Just ride it. That's it." Miltia met Melanie's teary eyes and swallowed thickly, her hand ghosting on the button on the vibrator as she clicked it to its fourth and highest setting. "That's it. There you go."

Melanie's eyes bulged as her shout turned to a shriek. Her body went taut from the tension, flexing and clenching desperately as Miltia ground the vibrator against her clit, so close to her second orgasms already. It'd be so big it'd hurt.

She hoped it did. "You're a good girl," she said breathlessly as Melanie locked up, her gasp bursting into a sob as she quivered and came as her wrists slammed against their bindings. "There's my cute little Mel-Mel." Such an overwhelmed little crybaby, aimlessly bucking and sobbing from the best orgasm she'd have all week. Miltia knew what she'd look after, all sore, weak and shaky, sniffling and clinging to her for hours like the perfect cuddle doll she was. "You're such a fucking good girl."

Chapter Text

Huntresses could get so dumb. Sure, with training and Aura, you could waltz through as many Grimm-infested forests or seedy back alleys as you liked and feel safe the whole way through, but there were worse things out there than just Grimm and grabby muggers.

Like Neo.

Well, Neo and a lost cinder block someone had left lying about. They made such a nice resonating crack when impacting against the back of an unsuspecting head, and Blake was still out of it. Maybe she had hit a bit too hard because even with Aura, concussions took a moment to heal.

It was rather inconsiderate. Neo huffed and got up from her chair to pace around one of their safe houses. It was a sparse one, as usual, with just the essentials; bunks, rations, two exits and an unconscious Blake chained to a load-bearing wall. She had hurried to get her here in time, and now she was stuck waiting around for the playtime to start.

She looked Blake up and down. She was leaning against the wall dangling from her wrists, head lolling to the side. Good figure, perky breasts, exceedingly cute cat ears... She had half a mind to get a headstart, but what would she even do? Grind against a limp mouth? All of her best smug expressions and needling would also go to waste with Blake just drooling there out cold. She could get the strap out, and making Blake wake up around that was a concept worth exploring, but that wasn't—

Blake groaned. Neo jumped, cursing to herself and slid back to her chair with all the stealth she could muster. All this time and the moment Neo got up, she started waking. Neo assumed her best relaxed position, put on a small and reasonably smug smile as she let Blake go through the motions. Much like watching someone wake with a hangover; blinking, a pained exhale, an aborted shake of the head followed by a wince.

"What..." Blake groaned again and tried to get up, but the chains around her wrists kept her hands up. The jingling of the chains seemed to finally make dots connect in her head, and her eyes shot open, wildly darting around the room before settling on Neo. "You!"

"Me!" Neo beamed at her and pointed at herself with both of her hands, using her Semblance to make the letters appear above her head. She had plenty of practice with these conversations. And, going by the twitch of Blake's eye, the next thing would be...

"Let me go," Blake growled.

Yup, that. Did nobody ever think before speaking? Sure, it may have been a stressful situation, but just about every fucking one of these knuckleheads decided that after Neo had gone through all the effort of subduing, spiriting away and tying them up, surely she'd let them go if asked nicely. It was even worse than the "You won't get away with this!" which at least had some comedic value going for it.

She put on a thinking pose, pursing her lips and crossing her legs. She creased her brow in intense concentration before letting the act drop.

"No."

Blake yanked her chains, staring at her. Pretty eyes. "What do you want?"

Neo smiled. Pragmatic and straight to the point. "Oh. Nothing much." She waved her hand and let a list of things bubble and burst next to her. "Lemon sorbet, a good massage, all the parasols in the entire world, half a kingdom – no, scratch that, legislation sounds like a pain – a hundred million lien in a Vacuan bank account, dental coverage, a pet jerboa, that one lead actress from Secret Lives, weekends off." She shrugged. "The usual. But what I want from you is just deep breaths."

Blake looked at the text blurring next to her. "Deep...?"

"Just act natural." Neo gave her a wide grin and reached behind her, pulling out a muzzle she had prepared beforehand. Black reinforced leather designed to fit around a person's mouth and jaw. Nothing too special, you could get one from any number of specialty shops, but Neo had packed the inside with a little something something. A little bit of sedatives, a little bit of stimulants, a dash of some of the funny powder she had picked up from that drug deal gone bad. A sprinkle of Faunus heat concentrate – she had heard many things about it being misused – and a bushel of something "invigorating" from a local herb shop. The herbs had smelled just like mint to her, but the shopkeep had been cagey enough that Neo gave her the benefit of the doubt. The loose leaves served as a binder just fine, so now the inside of the muzzle was filled with a ball of soaked herbs.

Several emotions ran through Blake's face. Confusion at what the pile of leather Neo was holding was, apprehension as she recognized it as a muzzle, a hardening look, barely veiled disgust, and then more confusion as she saw the inside. "What is that?" she asked, uncertainty in her voice.

"You know, I'm not quite sure myself." Neo looked at the muzzle. "I'm sure we can figure it out." With that, she darted forward and slammed the muzzle on Blake's face. All the little buckles were tricky, but Blake sputtered in surprise for just a moment too long, and Neo could hook the longest strap around her head. Blake struggled as Neo straddled her, cursing and gasping, only to stiffen with her eyes going wide as the mixture seeped into her lungs, and she coughed, trying to hold her breath. More time for Neo to fix another strap, and pressing her palm against the muzzle, seal it tight against Blake's skin.

Blake fought her, but with her tied up and still recovering. The feeling of a frantic, struggling body underneath her was thrilling, and Neo all but moaned as Blake headbutted her. Neo responded in kind, dazing Blake and grabbing her hair to push her against the wall. They stared at each other, Blake snarling and kicking with her face red. Sure, hold your breath. Hold it as long as you'd like because that will just make the inevitable inhale all the more deeper and desperate. As much as Neo wanted to press in close and taste that red, flushed skin, she made herself stay half an arm's length away from the muzzle. A heady, bitter scent wafted off it, and Blake started shaking her head to try to dislodge it.

She had only that one dose. Neo frowned, leaned to the side and drove her knee into Blake's stomach. It was just a light hit, nothing like she'd throw in a real fight, but just enough to squeeze Blake's diaphragm and knock the wind out of her. She wheezed and coughed the last of her air out, and took half a gasp before catching herself. Neo put her other hand on Blake's throat to pin her back straight against the wall and held her there, seconds ticking by.

Blake squirmed. Her shoulders jerked and her stomach clenched, and she let out an indistinct cry as her body finally forced her to take a deep, desperate inhale. Her eyes were wide and panicked, a pretty, deep amber frantically looking all around the room and then at Neo, locking eyes as her pupils dilated.

Neo hummed, pleased with herself. Another fast panting breath followed, and then another, each less wavering than the last as Blake stopped fighting it. The sharp edge in her gaze disappeared, swallowed up by the wide black irises, and her body relaxed as tension bled from her.

Now that was a nice effect. Blake had seemingly completely forgotten that she had just been fighting Neo, and just stared at her with unfocused eyes. The muzzle fit her face snugly, but she didn't even seem to notice it.

"How's that?" Neo tilted Blake's head up, not getting a response. Neo frowned and turned Blake's head towards the letters, but she stared right past them. "Hello? Remnant to kitty?"

When Neo tapped Blake's cheek, she just mumbled something in response, slowly twisting. Blake rolled her shoulders like she was pushing her chest out and squirmed against Neo, slowly starting to buck her hips.

Oh, so that's what it was. Neo smiled, shuffling in place and pressing her knee down between Blake's thighs. They slid apart easily, and as she pushed forward, Blake let out a wanton, soft moan as Neo made contact. Her motions were slow and clumsy, dulled by the confused haze of the drugs, and she moaned again as she found a good angle and slid her crotch down the length of Neo's thigh. If there was any memory left of her trying to punch Neo out, it seemed completely drowned by the instinct to rut, and she inhaled greedily after each humping motion to suffuse her moans with the herbal mixture.

"Completely shameless, are you?" Neo pushed her knee up, feeling the body heat through layers of fabric as she ground it against Blake, and she got a shivering, throaty moan in response as Blake's eyes unfocused. Neo dismissed the letters because clearly they weren't getting to their audience. It was a shame because she loved needling her toys, but as she looked at Blake frantically grinding herself silly, she couldn't complain too much. It was hot to see her like that, completely out of it and running on the instincts of a bitch in heat. Was that it? Neo lowered her knee and Blake followed it like magnetized, huffing rapidly. And, oh, was that wetness she was feeling, too?

Neo reached down to cup Blake's pussy, making her stiffen and buck. The fabric was hot and damp against her hand, and she gave Blake a knead. Heat, that was the only word for it. In heat like a good service animal, needy and ready for anything. Her head lolled to the side, and she looked like she was drooling into the herbal mixture in the muzzle.

Blake let out a clipped moan and clamped her thighs shut around Neo's hand, her legs quivering and hips jerking. Neo kept kneading her through her pants, and Blake just whimpered and followed her motions with her legs trembling. Did she just cum? Neo stared at her. It had been minutes. The whimpers turned pained, and Neo started pulling her arm back, only for Blake to let out a feral whine and jerk her hips forward, trapping Neo's hand between her legs. A desperate animal instinct, and as Neo pushed her palm against her, she got a pitiful, needy whimper in response which almost sounded grateful if you spoke unspayed alley cat. Blake jerked against the chains with more vigor than she had during their fight, leaning forward and trying to push herself against Neo. Every breath, in and out, dripping with need.

Oh... Neo smiled widely, lifting Blake's head with her fingers. They were going to have a lot of fun.

Yes, hello. I'd like to place an order for more Keigai Cloud.

...

What do you mean you're out of stock!?