Nara's voice cracked on his name like glass under weight.
"MASTERRR—!?!!"
Not a scream. Not exactly. The word broke mid-syllable, the second half of it swallowed by the wet PAH! that produced it, her cheek grinding warm rock as her hips climbed higher without permission from any part of her that still managed decisions.
Her pussy had stopped being something she owned.
She recognized this distantly, from the far back room where the composed part of her still sat at a desk with crossed legs, watching the proceedings with the expression of someone watching their own house catch fire and finding the light unexpectedly beautiful.
'You are losing,' that part said.
'Yes,' the mark answered, in her chest, in her thigh, in the slick interior point where both frequencies crossed. 'That's the correct word. Losing. You are losing it exactly right.'
PAH! PAAAH!
"HIEKK~!!! AANGHH~~!!!"
