Work Header


Work Text:

She shouldn't be here.

Watching the fish swimming in the tank on the other side of the room, it filled her with both apprehension and anger, knowing that she used to be another one of those scaly things. Not thinking for herself, just part of a system, ready to be eaten alive by whoever became the next shark at the top. And there was no one that loved sharks more than the girl with ocean eyes, a blue so deep and dangerous that you could get lost in them. Eyes with promises, and framed by hair as white as the predator's gleaming teeth.

So how then, was she back on this bland couch with the floral pattern? Why was she here, accepting a cup of tea from the girl-no, woman she loathed? She and Yumeko, they were girls. Kirari Momobami was a woman, not in age but in intellect, in experience, and in-

In the body she couldn't tear her eyes away from. In the full chest contained by neatly pressed buttons and ironed fabric, and the black silk legs that had uncrossed, that were starting to slide across the floor to tap against her own. The memory of those same tights shoving her thighs apart, that had come so close to the place she had needed them to brush came flooding back, and even as she raised her cup to her lips, she knew it wasn't the tendrils of steam making her cheeks heat up.

"So, was there something you wished to discuss with me? Or did you simply come to undress me with your indecent gaze?"

The President only held a hand to her lips to hide her chuckling as she spluttered and coughed, spitting half of her mouthful back into the cup and the other half into a spray on the floor. Rather than allow her the chance to deny it, the President set her own cup back onto the table, never ceasing watching her. 

"It's been quite a while since we've seen each other. Just the two of us, I mean." the woman continued, folding her hands in her lap. "You know, I don't give compliments freely. But I must admit, when you said 'no' to me, when you had the guts to stand up to me, to stand against me... it was actually quite admirable."

A compliment hadn't been what she was expecting to hear, and she set her teacup down on the table before she risked dropping it, her heartrate picking up several paces. Why that word had given her such a strong reaction, she didn't know. Maybe because it was just weird, for her enemy to praise her. 

Or maybe it was just the way those lips drew out the word when the President said it, held her gaze like each syllable was meant only for her. How there was kind of a purr to it, one that hummed through her chest.

"You know, there's actually quite a bit to admire about you, Miss Saotome…" the President mused, stepping out of her seat and around the table. "You're certainly brave, coming to me unannounced. You're strong of will, and cunning, very cunning... Of course, your fair looks aren't to go unnoticed either."

The President was close now, leaning down and brushing her cheek with one hand, and she could swear despite the menace the woman before her always carried, this moment was almost tender. "Tell me, without any pretense, why did you choose to come here and interrupt me today, hmm?"

And in that moment, she found her mind was completely blank. Whatever plans she'd had, if she'd even had a plan, they were gone, scattered. All she could focus on was the face peering into her own, and the way the room's temperature kept rising. "I... I don't know..." she admitted, struggling for breath.

"I see..." The President cocked her head, mulling their situation over for a moment. Her hand trailed, off of her face and down to toy with the edge of her uniform's collar, tugging so that it tightened just a bit. "Would you like for me to give you a reason? If you're going to take up my time, it should at least be worthwhile."

"What kind of reason?" she muttered, making sure there was a hiss of suspicion in her tone as she furrowed her brows. 

The President merely smirked, leaning in to nip at her lips. "Don't move."

She should push her off, snap at her and barge back out the door. But like the last time, she found herself frozen, transfixed by the sight of the President leaning over her with such unbridled desire. Last time, nothing had happened, and she hadn't been sure if that was a good thing or a tease. But now... now she had a choice to make.

And she let the strange throbbing between her legs make it for her.

She stayed where she was, not moving, just inhaling as the President's lips pulled back from hers. 

"Good girl."

How could two words, exhaled with icy breath, light a fire inside her core? Her voice caught in her throat, the only sound able to escape a slight whimper as the throbbing between her legs became more insistent. She longed to shift in her seat, to try and gain just a little friction, but she held fast, fixed under that sharp blue gaze. 

Slender fingers popped the buttons on her blazer, one by one, and she forced herself to stay still as they crept downwards. When she was finally free, the President pulled her clothes off in one slow, fluid motion, leaving her skin exposed to the cool air of the room. Despite the goosebumps forming along her arms, she felt anything but cold. Her face was flushed, heat radiating through her lower stomach and up into her chest as she held her breath. When those winter hands brushed against her belly, she swallowed thickly, watching as they began to slide upwards, only to pause and pick at the underside of her bra. 

"Tell me, Saotome. Have you thought about this before? Alone in your room, or in your dreams perhaps..." One finger slid under the metal band, tracing around her side and pressing against her spine with a chill as the President's fingers began to pick at the hooks. "Have you thought about me, pleasuring you in the ways a man could never hope to match?"

Whatever shame she might have felt at the heat rising in her face was cancelled out by throbbing heat in the opposite direction, and she couldn't help letting her chest stick out a few centimeters further, desperate to have that last shackle of clothing cast away. "I have..." she admitted, her voice reduced to a whisper that all too quickly devolved into a moan. She shouldn't have, but it had been impossible to cast those thoughts away, those urges... As much as she wished she wasn't, as determined as she was to beat her one day, she was still drawn to something about the President... Ever since that encounter, here in this very room...

The bra collapsed down her shoulders, and before she could shrug out of it, fingers were lifting her arms up and tugging it out of the way. It was dropped to the floor without ceremony, and as the chill of the room contrasted with the flush blooming across her chest, blue eyes locked onto hers. Those hands hovered near her breasts, tracing the air around them as if to map every part, but never making contact. Her heart skipped faster, and she parted her mouth.

Before she could speak, the President placed a finger to her lips. "Not yet." Settling back in her chair, the woman rested her chin in her hands. "I want you to touch yourself for me. Show me what you wish I was doing to you." Swallowing hard, she nodded, but just as her hands started to shift, the President spoke again. "Only above the waist."

"Yes Ma'am..." The words had left her mouth before she'd had time to think about it, but they left a pleasant taste lingering on her tongue, and she was satisfied to see a hint of a smile on those cold lips as the President watched her. Her fingers moved slowly, tracing the base of one breast, and then the other, spreading outwards to clutch and caress. The soft flesh was pliable under her touch, and as much as she wanted to see how well she was doing for her mistress, her eyes found themselves slipping closed as she relaxed. She imagined those delicate yet powerful hands feeling her up. They would be admired, lovingly held and molded as fingers explored the valley between them. As they warmed under the light friction, thumbs would begin stroking around her areolas until they were tingling, her nipples straining for attention. Flicks and pinches, never enough sensation at once, just enough to keep teasing her, leaving her begging for more. A single cruel twist before the sting would be soothed with featherlight brushes of the thumb, and then maybe a tongue, warm and enveloping as it captured her, lips pursing around it and-

It felt so good, her fantasy alone setting her alight. She shuddered as she pinched her nipple, another sharp throb aching in that sensitive bud below, and her other hand skirted lower, brushing the hem of her waistband. But she wasn't going to let her urges consume her, she wasn't going to give in. With concentration and a disappointed moan she couldn't help, she brought her hand back up, squeezing her legs together where they had fallen open.

"Very good, Saotome... What an exceedingly good girl you are... Leaving yourself wet and wanting without having to be reminded, saving yourself for me to take what's mine... I think you deserve a reward..."

The praise was already reward enough, each word sending her body flushing and her heart rate skipping until she was nearly dizzy. But she never objected to being spoiled, and that certainly wasn't about to change when she was with the richest, most powerful woman in the building.

"Get down on your knees, my pet." the President purred, and that sound reminded her that she was going to be devoured today, body and soul, by this magnificent predator. The rarest of tigers, regal in its brutality in the way scarlet blood stained snowy fur. "Kneel for me." Her captor insisted, fangs sealed behind serene lips, and she kneeled, her bare knees caressed by a plush rug as she tilted her head back and bared her throat.

Yes. Like the blood of its prey, a messy, distilled part of her would taint Kirari Momobami, would stick with her long after this exchange ended and they parted ways. The President could bite into her, tear her apart in any way she saw fit and gorge upon her, but this would never be a one time affair. She was going to leave her mark before she succumbed...

She waited, silent spare her hushed panting, and the President caressed her hair, twirling blonde strands ever so gently. "You were beautiful, fondling yourself like that without an ounce of shame. I almost wish I had been the one to feel you..." A whisper in her ear, and she felt pride fill her flaming chest. "You're stunning like this, Saotome. To be tamed, and yet free of the cage you so often lock yourself in." She felt her hair shift as the President untied one ribbon, and then the other, thin black silk fluttering to the floor as golden strands filled her vision. The President brushed them away slowly, just enough to stay out of her eyes, and hummed in approval. "Yes, this look suits you nicely, my pet. Now, for your reward..."

As she sat in anticipation, her knees shifting ever so slightly to open up her legs and offer herself, the President chuckled, reaching down to tilt her chin up. "You've been so obedient, I think you're more than ready to show your devotion." Nails pricked against her chin before the President leaned back against her throne, her long legs parting on either side of her to showcase the mound beneath her skirt. "As your reward, you may have the pleasure of tasting me. You're such a good girl, I know you won't disappoint me..."

She should have been frustrated, left throbbing and desperate while the President lounged above her, expecting everything while giving nothing. But she wasn't. Because deep down, she wasn't sure she wanted anything more than to taste everything that Kirari was made of, to take everything inside her and unravel her, to pleasure her beyond expectation. She was being given a chance, to prove herself and what she was capable of...

She was being given a chance to indulge, in everything she refrained from, everything that wasn't a part of her image.

Her hands caressed the President's thighs lightly as she began pulling those midnight stockings down, exposing the pale moon underneath and kissing her way along every inch she revealed. Light, worshipping kisses, free of teeth because she knew this goddess would never accept being marred or stamped. She wasn't worthy enough for that right, not yet, but she would be. After discarding polished shoes and placing a single brush of lips to painted toes, she worked her way back up towards her prize, inhaling the sweet scent of ruined lace as her finger slipped under the waistband. What was hidden underneath was even more beautiful, framed by neatly groomed hair and deep pink folds, the clear nectar dripping from those petals. As the tip of her tongue made contact, those thighs settled firmly against either side of her head, and she was distinctly reminded of a venus flytrap. 

If she died in here, relishing a divine meal while acid ate away at her from the outside, that would be just fine with her.

She lapped hungrily but precisely, letting her tongue slip up and down one fold before working to the next, dipping in and out in a steady rhythm. She wasn't going to leave a trace when she was done here, swallowing in between strokes to let it coat her throat, her breathing hot and heavy as she began to work deeper, her tongue slipping up once in a while to circle the sensitive clit above.

Even in a moment like this, the President was calm and in control. She did not claw or howl or kick out her legs, remaining exactly where she was, her fingers idly twirling through different portions of hair to encourage her to move in one direction or another. Whenever something pleased her, she would hum or moan, ever so softly, whispering encouragements and praise, and were it not for the occasional shudder of her breath, it would be difficult to tell she was under any strain at all.

The President was growing close though, she could feel it. Her captor's body was attempting to hold her tongue hostage, muscles clenching in quicker and stronger spasms as she plunged deeper once again, thick cum drowning her senses. She moaned in pleasure, and the vibration of her lips nearly forced the woman to buck, her nails and thighs tightening for a split second as she forced herself to refrain.

"Mmm, be a good girl and finish your task, Saotome…" the President murmured, and she could swear there was a hint of a growl behind that pleasant tone. "Make me cum..."

"Yes, Ma'am." she whispered, a purr of her own slipping into her voice as she dove in again with renewed enthusiasm. Every movement was stronger, faster, and it was with one calculated blow to the clit that Kirari Momobami trembled, body shaking all over as she held her pet's face against her, breathing quickly and heavily as she leaned over her, letting the aftershocks run their course.

But she wasn't done. No, she may be a good girl, but she was never going to be completely tamed, free of rebellion. She could make the President feel better, prove she was more than a simple toy. And so without giving the woman a chance to recover, she started tasting her again, diving in for a second helping. Kirari actually flinched this time, a sharp gasp escaping her lips before she ended up moaning, a voice normally so relaxed now ragged and throaty. She felt those thighs try to shut her out, hands tugging into her hair until it hurt, but she only used her own hands to pry the oyster open, sucking for a few glorious seconds against the pearl.  

That was the blow that brought a yowl from the tiger, all claws as she doubled down her efforts, feeling Kirari quake and writhe against her. All of that composure was gone, keening whimpers and desperate whines filling her ears as the woman bucked against her tongue, pushed her head down to try and grind against her face, gasped and groaned as she sang a hundred praises. It was exhilarating, pulling every one of the President's strings until she was overstimulated and past the point of command. Instead, the President was begging her for more.

"Fuck..." Kirari gasped out, legs desperately trying to wrap around her back to hold her in place, nails losing their grip on her hair and scrabbling against her neck. "Fuck, just like that... Don't stop..." The woman was breathless, and if she wasn't tongue deep inside of her, she would have loved to pull back and see the look on her face. But she'd get to see it soon enough. Holding her mistress down, she flicked faster, lavishing all of her attention on that swollen nub until Kirari was nearly screaming her name, her full name. Only then did she pull back, prying herself out of Kirari's death grip to glance up.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen. The President seemed to be in shambles, that pale porcelain face stained red and glistening with sweat, a hint of smeared saliva resting on the side of her mouth. The corners of her eyes were glistening with the beginnings of unshed tears, her chest was heaving so heavily that she was almost concerned, and her body was entirely limp, her limbs giving out so that she collapsed back against the plush chair. 

There was a minute or two of silence, the both of them taking time to breathe, to process what they had experienced. The President sat up again and dried her face with a white lace handkerchief, then clasped her hands in her lap, narrowed eyes boring into her as she finally broke the silence. "You're a greedy little girl, aren't you?"

She would be lying if she said there wasn't a hint of fear in her chest at that moment, knowing that while she hadn't technically disobeyed, she had definitely acted out of turn. Whatever this exchange was, there was always the chance for the President to use her powers against her, even if she had escaped the life plan before. 

But she also knew just how easily she had taken the President by surprise, overpowered her command and taken charge, and how shamelessly the woman had enjoyed it. So instead of apologizing or ducking down, she raised her head to meet those icy eyes, her smile still stained by the leftover slick coating her mouth and chin. "You said for me to 'make you cum.' I don't like leaving a job half-finished."

The air was so thick it could be cut with a knife, but then the President leaned down and grasped her throat with one hand, not squeezing, but letting her fingers drum against the skin, her nails a few points of pressure away from drawing blood. The other hand caressed the side of her face, tracing the skin and then cradling it as the woman brought them to the point that their foreheads were touching. The hot breath brushing her face had her blood freezing in her veins, and her heart couldn't seem to decide whether it should be stopping dead or hammering in her chest.

"Neither do I..." Kirari whispered, and then instead of parting for words, those blue lips were parting to capture her mouth, a blazing tongue darting out to clean the cum from the corners before diving inside. It was ravenous, suffocating, and the only reason she was able to gasp for breath was because Kirari's hand had slipped into her underwear, mercilessly pumping her sopping folds. Those fingers were crawling everywhere, thumbing her clit, curling up against that bundle of nerves deep inside her, thrusting in and out and feeling in between every bit of the lips below, just as her lips above were still being attacked. The other hand dragged down her throat to push her to the floor, and suddenly her breasts were being groped so that she was expecting bruises, caressed and pinched and at one point bitten. 

And now she was the one who was overstimulated, every inch of her body being devoured by the creature pinning her, throbs and electric pulses and waves of pleasure mixing with the pain until she couldn't think, reduced to a moaning, writhing mess of curses and prayers, of 'YES MISS PRESIDENT!' and 'Fucking HELL!'. Her entire body was on fire, and she still hadn't finished rising from her high, because the entire time, Kirari was lavishing praise upon her, every orgasm bringing another round.

"That was so bold of you, going for seconds."

"You were magnificent, my pet. So much talent, so much potential..."

"You really are an impressive specimen. Such willpower, and stamina."

"Yes, you went above and beyond, and I must say I'm proud of you. Now be a good girl, and come undone for me again."

And as she cried out and shuddered for the last time, the President smiled almost fondly, sitting up and bringing a single slick finger to her lips. One taste, a moment of contemplation, and then the woman cleansed her soiled hand with another handkerchief, dropping it onto the floor and gathering her stockings and shoes before returning to her chair. 

It took herself considerably longer to find the energy to sit up, her lungs still heaving and sweat drenching every bit of her skin, but she eventually did, fumbling around for her bra and shirts and tugging them on. The ribbons took a bit longer to find, and the President made no move to help her restyle them, only pointing half-heartedly at the handheld mirror on her polished wooden desk. She brought the silver thing back to the couch, holding the handle between her knees while she hunched over it, her arms still weak as she fumbled with tying the disheveled strands into place.

She could see the woman smirking out of the corner of her eye. Yeah, it must be real funny, coming from the girl who had her secretary fix her braids every damn day. Real hospitality, bitch.

Shit. That blue lipstick was smeared all over her mouth. No one else in the Academy wore that shade.

"Are you almost ready for your walk of shame?" the President chuckled from her chair, her cellphone in hand. No doubt to call Sayaka to clean up this mess and spritz the room so it didn't smell like a brothel. "I'm afraid I have appointments soon, and they can't be rescheduled."

"Relax, I'm on my way out of here. You think I'd want to hang around here with someone like you? We're still enemies, just in case you forgot."

"Enemies? No, I'm afraid that seems like a bit of an overstatement on your part." the President, set her cellphone down, rising from her seat in order to walk her towards the door. "You aren't like Yumeko Jabami." Catching her glare and bared teeth, Kirari cut her off, placing a hand on her shoulder. "However, you are talented in ways she isn't... You could be a great asset to me, Mary. I would like to remind you that the offer I made you previously still stands."

Those fingers began to rub, and as tempting as the touch was given the events that had just transpired, she shrugged them off and reached for the handle. "We aren't friends, you don't get to call me that. And I'm not anyone's asset. Not hers, and not yours. I'm no one's pet."

The President remained unshaken, only shrugging and taking a step back. "Of course. Fair enough. Your pride is commendable, especially given your lack of social standing. I'm simply saying... I may be inclined to call upon you again, if a problem arises... I'm willing to make a different arrangement. Entirely confidential, of course. What do you say, Miss Saotome? I believe I could make use of a woman of your caliber."

She knew she should have just walked out, not even thought about it. How weak was she, to make a deal with the devil, the dictator of this school? It was pathetic, desperate, stupid-

And yet she hesitated, feeling that familiar burn in her cheeks, in her chest. Kirari wasn't a liar, not entirely. She was untrustworthy, and a snake, but when she said something, she usually meant it. If she said she saw something that impressed her, that she wanted to meet again in private... then she did. She saw in her what Yumeko, Ryota, what everyone else seemed to miss. That just because she'd lost once didn't mean she was worthless. That she had more potential than anyone was willing to give her credit for. That she was beautiful, and bold, and could blow a fish out of the water if she set her mind to it.

She would blow this entire aquarium out of the water. And it would start with taming the tiger that guarded it.

But if the tiger got a few good licks in first, that wouldn't be so terrible either.

"Fine, Kirari." she murmured, not missing the glint in those eyes as she refused to honor her title. "Let's make an arrangement."

Whatever beast that had stirred under the surface was gone when the President replied, nothing but cool amusement on her features. "Good girl..."