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The door to Ryoshu’s room slammed open and two figures walked in, one of them being immediately pinned to the wall next to the entrance before the other slammed it again, to shut it this time.
The LCB had been out drinking, for once, they got an actual break where they got to just enjoy themselves and let loose. While a couple of Sinners regulated their consumption, the rest got shit-faced. Don Quixote and Ryoshu were no exceptions. Maybe one or two sinners had left, but the two of them stayed until they were practically kicked out by the more sober ones.
It’s not exactly like they’d been hiding their relationship from the rest, Don Quixote certainly wasn’t, but nobody pried into their business — mostly due to Ryoshu’s intimidating nature. The blonde would often be cheesy around her, even in front of others, but the smoker remained stoic and cold with little to no visible change at the actions.
All of this is to say that none of them expected to end up with intoxication causing them to end up making out on the barstools, the artist almost fully undoing the dreamer’s button-up and slipping her hands into her almost bare chest — the blonde’s arms wrapped around her back as she did so, in front of everyone. They were being incredibly noisy, too. Nobody wanted them there at that point and not even Dante volunteered to take them to the Mephistopheles to make sure they didn’t die on the way back.
So, whatever, they didn’t bother to fix Don Quixote’s attire before stumbling out. They’d probably drank around the same amount, only the bloodfiend had more despite her lower tolerance. To be fair to her, it wasn’t exactly her fault it was Ryoshu who kept buying her drinks. How could she turn down a beverage paid for by her beloved? To be fair to the raven haired woman, though, she only started doing so after she, herself, started getting tipsy.
Their lips violently crashed and the calloused hands of the swordswoman began to rub at her nipples with her thumbs, above her bra. The kiss was ruthless, neither being able to breathe, only adding lightheadedness on top of the alcohol. The knight moaned slightly at the tight grip Ryoshu had.
The taller woman slid her tongue in, running it through her teeth as well as the roof of her mouth and forcing out a whine from the inebriated dreamer. Her hands slipped under the fabric and firmly grabbed the fat before breaking the kiss and fully tearing her body away from her, who was left confused for a good second. She struggled to take Don Quixote’s coat off before barking out an order,
“T. T. O. N.”
She immediately got to work, stumbling over herself a little before somehow managing to do so. The artist used her superior consciousness to finally finish unbuttoning the cloth and then slip her bra above her bosom. Only after she was done with all of that did she lean down slightly and wrap her arms around her thighs, lifting her up high enough to be eye level with her chest. The blonde placed her hands on her shoulders for stability.
Ryoshu proceeded to suck on her nipples. Don Quixote did nothing but squirm and let out little noises here and there, much to the younger woman’s enjoyment. She slid her tongue across it in circular motions before switching to the other and repeating the motions, all while nails on her shoulders dug themselves in in pleasure.
Much to Don Quixote’s dismay, it did not last very long as patience from the woman carrying her ran out way quicker than usual. She carried her to the bed and practically threw her on it, giving some vague instruction to strip and turn around while she walked towards her drawer.
By the time she joined her with the strap on, she was only wearing her panties, kneeled down on the bed with her face to the mattress, body all flushed and waiting for her. Her underwear had a little dark spot where her entrance is, though she didn’t ponder on just how bad that turned her on because she was already pulling it down about midway through her thighs and aligning silicone with her vagina.
Don Quixote felt like she was being split into two just as she’d felt many times before thanks to Ryoshu’s chronic refusal of stretching her out beforehand, something about how doing so would prevent her from ‘having the full experience’ and being able to enjoy it. However, she did pause for a good minute before beginning to make sure there was actual pleasure amidst the pain. Today, the pause time was shorter than ever and it caused the bloodfiend to let out a long, pathetic, pained howl.
Ryoshu held tight onto her hips and she thrusted deep, not stopping until she could feel the other’s pubic hair against the exposed skin behind the strap, then repeating the process. She’d barely gotten a couple of movements in before she could feel Don Quixote's posture, as well as her own — though to a lesser degree — wavering.
The rhythm of her hips began to fall into place as she sped up and angled them right where it made Don Quixote scream the most. Her nail dug into her skin, though it didn’t add much feeling considering just her fingers were already enough to leave a nasty, hand shaped bruise. The blonde was incredibly vaguely able to picture it and she somehow managed to get wetter at the idea.
Ryoshu's hand reached for her hair and pulled harshly until her back was bending, clawing at the sheets as she moaned. She leaned down and began to bite at her neck roughly, in such a way where if she did so any harder the skin would fall off into her mouth. The position was a little awkward for the inebriated artist but she could care less about that, she was fully zeroed in on the other woman's sounds.
Don Quixote’s fluids were making a mess as they pooled in her thighs, nearly reaching her panties. The feeling of the strap inside her produced so much pleasure but so much discomfort as her sensations were being overloaded by the entirety of the other woman. Her mind was blank and only a mess of whines and fluids remained, her only thoughts being silicone and Ryoshu's name.
Eventually, the position and instability caught up to the woman topping and she fell on the other. She had to process the change for a good couple of seconds, not bothering to hold her own body weight and practically crushing the bloodfiend, who was now borderline suffocating, with it.
When she did finally move, muttering vague curses in SANGRIA, she released Don Quixote's hair and propped herself up on her elbows at the height of the knight's shoulders, moving her hips enough to still be able to fuck her comfortably.
The new position did not allow any room for movement on Don Quixote's side and she found that she was okay with that. She vaguely wondered how it would feel to be tied up by her lover and be nothing short of used. Not that this was much different though, she continued to scream into the mattress.
Ryoshu began to speed up her lower half. Until she came to a curious realization, that is. She found that Don Quixote had begun to grind her hips against the bed, giving her friction and stimulation to her already sensitive clit. Ryoshu had not allowed her to do that. She stopped her movements.
After a good few seconds that allowed the fucked-out dreamer's mind to catch up and notice that nothing was rubbing up against her walls anymore, she moved her head to the side and spoke — tried to speak,
“Wh.. Why did — hic — why'd you…”
“I. M. S. N. E. ?”
Don Quixote stared at her with an expression that reflected nothing short of stupidity.
“Is my strap not enough?”
She knew better than that. She knew better than to doubt herself when it came to her girlfriend's pleasure, the same one who was just bitching and whining as she caused her pain mere minutes ago. Still, said girlfriend did not catch on to her implications,
“Wha—? V.. verily, it is… mine fair lady—”
“Then why are you humping the mattress?”
She froze.
She wasn't doing it consciously. Even drunk, she wouldn't do it consciously.
The two had known each other for a while and they'd definitely been having sex for a while, if there's one thing that that taught her it's that she needs to take everything Ryoshu gives her, be grateful, and not ask for any more. She knows the consequences for not doing so. She pleads even if she knows it's more than pointless,
“Lady Ry— ma’am, I truly do apologize — hic — I did.. I did not mean to, please, I beg of thee, please forgive mine shortcomings—”
Though Ryoshu refrained from replying, she was caught off guard by the strap being quickly pulled out of her body, drawing out a frustrated whine and leaving her vagina gaping and twitching. She manhandled her onto her back, finally throwing away her panties and putting her legs on her shoulders. She penetrated her once again, violently.
Her pace was fast, violent, the goal of punishment clear in every motion. She wasn't trying to give pleasure anymore, she was asserting dominance, sending the clear message of who was in control. A pit quickly built in her stomach as tears pooled at her eyes, she helplessly screamed, drooling on herself a little. She wasn't entirely sure that Ryoshu's fingers wouldn't bruise her bones from her grip.
Finally, what Don Quixote had been dreading happened: the warmth at her belly grew into aggressive, growing burning that spread throughout her legs. Her pitch and volume went up and she began to cry, knowing what to expect.
Ryoshu ripped any sensation away from her, removing the phony cock from her just before she was able to be pushed to the metaphorical edge. She left her yowling in borderline pain, thrusting her hips up into the air, throbbing around nothing at all and feeling achingly empty.
Don Quixote was always so tough on the battlefield but so sensitive and weak in sexual contexts. She was sobbing, panting, craving a real orgasm, frustrated at herself for not being able to stick to the rules. Ryoshu slapped her across the face when the bloodfiend curled into herself in shame, using that same hand to grab her jaw and forcing her to look at her,
“Are you gonna be good now?”
Her answer came out almost slurred, letting instinct take over her begging, “I— I will, ma’am, I promise to be obedient to thee, forgive mine transgressions, I shall be worthy for thee, I— ”
“You're good.”
She let out a sigh she didn't know she was holding at the confirmation. Ryoshu spread her legs and, for a final time, inserted silicone into her girlfriend. Her grip on her hips wasn't as harsh as before, though it still hurt as it pressed into bruised skin and likely damaged bones. Her pace picked up again, so did Don Quixote's moans.
She was so overwhelmed, all of her senses were just Ryoshu. The sight of her pinning her onto the bed, the smell of sex and sweat, the noises of her pussy being slammed into and her own moans, the feeling of something invading her insides with the pain of her injuries and the taste of alcohol on her tongue. It all traced back to her girlfriend.
She wonders how nice it would be to stay like this forever, without having to think, to just let the other do what she wants. She felt so small between her arms, like prey. She was at her most vulnerable, at her most exposed, all for Ryoshu. Just thinking about it all made the pit in her stomach return.
Her thrusts were still rough even after forgiving her for her mistake, every hit to the one spot she loved made more tears come out. Don Quixote felt full once again and she absolutely relished in it, letting Ryoshu guide her hips away from and closer to hers.
Her orgasm approached and she was so incredibly thrilled. Her legs tensed again, her whines increased, her pussy begged for it — for her, for Ryoshu. Her clitoris felt more prominent than ever, feeling it twitching for more, but she couldn't allow herself to give in again, not when she was about to cum.
Finally, it rose and rose before her moans paused momentarily as she processed the ecstasy, letting out an almost raspy scream of the artist's name when she finally got to feel what she'd been wanting all night. Through her relentless thrusting, Ryoshu looked down at the object penetrating Don Quixote and got a great view of how it became covered in her cum in addition to the fluids that had long since taken over it.
Ryoshu briefly leaned down and gave her a long peck once she was done, which she happily accepted, before going up slightly higher and kissing her right on a spot where a tear drop was, allowing it to stain her lips. She straightened her back out and pulled the strap out of Don Quixote.
She undid the attachments before crawling up the bed and sitting right on Don Quixote's chest with her legs spread. The knight had seen this view hundreds of times and she'd be content to view it thousands more: the beautiful bush she carried and the slick pouring out of her entrance, her clitoris slightly throbbing from how hot and bothered the blonde's pathetic, abused state got her.
Through her foggy, drunken mind, Don Quixote was well aware of what she had to do next. She wrapped her hands around Ryoshu's hips and pushed her closer to her mouth. She ran her tongue from the woman's entrance right up to the bean at the top, forcing out a grunt.
She redirected herself back towards her vagina, burying her face in the pubic hair and licking up the elixir flowing from it. Her tongue went past her folds and only barely probed at her entrance, just enough to get as much as she could scoop up. She then retroceded and sucked a little on the surrounding hairs where it'd gotten stuck on.
Ryoshu somehow always managed to balance keeping her moans in but also feeling everything, an impressive skill to Don Quixote. Her pleasure was evident to the third sinner only by the shaky sighs she'd let out when she decided to release the air she was keeping in for once.
Don Quixote moved her head upwards and stopped with her mouth hovering right above her clitoris, so close she could almost touch it. She stared right at it, admiring its shape, its size, the color, how much the hood covered it, the way it moved in response to desperation. She then looked up at Ryoshu, who looked less than amused at how long she was taking, shooting her a gentle smirk.
She placed her thumb on the nub before Ryoshu was able to slam her head into it. Don Quixote pressed down on it, feeling for a second how it pulsated at the same rate as her heart and she felt nothing short of admiration. She moved the finger back up to right above the sensitive spot, pulling upwards a little to expose it even more, not only to the air, but to herself.
Ryoshu grunted when the woman planted a kiss on it, intentionally pressing more than she would to an actual mouth to tease her. She pulled away before wrapping her lips around it, but she didn't suck, she didn't move her tongue, she only hid it in her mouth for a second.
Ryoshu was always so rough with her. She focused on making sure she couldn't think about anything but her and she did a great job at it, however, Don Quixote preferred to be gentle, to barely tease her for a reaction but to give her exactly what she wants after at a slow, warm pace. It drove the fourth sinner crazy, still, she lived for it.
Looking back up at her, she could once again see right when she was about to force her to go further and she pressed the tip of her tongue to her clitoris, squishing it a little before ever so slowly tracing circles on it. Ryoshu's hand clung onto blonde locs of hair, keeping her trapped right where she was.
Don Quixote sucked intensely, forcing it to stretch out into her mouth and rest on her tongue. Ryoshu did a particularly loud grunt, to which the bloodfiend let go for a second before repeating it again, and once again at a shorter interval.
She began a decently paced rhythm of sucking on the bean, moving her tongue a little inside her mouth for extra pleasure. Ryoshu held onto her hair tighter and she pushed her closer to her mouth in response. Don Quixote looked up at her girlfriend only to see she was staring at her right back, observing her carefully as she devoured her.
The blonde sped up a little, moving her thumb in circles just enough for Ryoshu to feel the pull. Ryoshu's panting became more frequent, letting grunts escape her more often. Don Quixote did not change her pace. She kept sucking, licking and rubbing and she took so much delight in being able to make her partner happy.
Eventually, with a particularly harsh suck, Ryoshu's legs tensed, her head shot to look up and she let out a grunt that bordered on a real moan. Don Quixote only let go when she'd finished orgasming. The artist let go of her hair and the dreamer made her way back down.
She licked up as much of her cum as she could, even dipping inside her at times. The taste wasn't exactly the best thing she'd ever tried but she relished in its slight flavour anyways. Finally, she parted from the woman's sex and smiled warmly at her, who had once again began to look at the little show she was putting on.
She crawled off her chest, Don Quixote moved and Ryoshu placed herself at the spot she made. She flipped to her side, staring deep into her eyes for a second before looking at her mouth and leaning in, licking up the remains of her fluids around the other's mouth, only kissing her after she was done with that.
“Mine fair lady, mi amor, if I must — hic — if I must say, every part of thee is the best meal this humble knight has ever tasted.”
Ryoshu stared at her. “Cheesy.” Don Quixote drunkenly giggled.
The swordswoman pulled the bloodfiend closer to herself, she wrapped her arms around her with the position leaving her head resting in the little fat she does have on her chest. In contrast, Ryoshu felt how Don Quixote's tits, bigger than her own, pressed against her stomach from the proximity. It was nice, to say the least.
Just as Ryoshu was about to command her to go to sleep, she heard her snoring coming from the woman. She took a second to admire how she left her. A red hand shape across her cheek, bruises on her hips, the bites on her neck. She really did make an amazing canvas, one only she could use.
She should probably sleep too, actually, the hang over the next day was bound to be nasty.