Science
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 6
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Verosika's wicked smile deepened, her bright pink eyes gleaming with predatory glee as Loona's lips brushed reverently against the arch of her foot—slow, submissive, each kiss a testament to utter surrender. The towering bodyguard's massive frame quivered under the touch, her silver hair spilling like a wild mane over her pale shoulders, but there was no fight left in her. Only devotion. Verosika reveled in it, her heart thrumming with cruel delight at the sight of this beast of a woman—over six feet of rippling muscle, capable of snapping bones like twigs—reduced to a whimpering pet at her feet.
She continued scratching behind Loona's ear with those long, manicured nails, digging just enough to send shivers through the bodyguard's body. Loona moaned between kisses, low and throaty, her green eyes half-lidded with raw desire. Her hips shifted involuntarily, muscles tensing as waves of need coursed through her. Verosika wasn't afraid—not even a flicker. She knew every crack in Loona's armor: the runaway childhood scarred by abandonment, the biker gang years where violence was the only shield against vulnerability, the prison stints that forged her into a lone wolf starving for connection. That deep, aching desire for love, for warmth, for a place to belong—Verosika had twisted it like a knife. Cynically, expertly, she'd warped it into something darker: a craving for enslavement, for service, for total self-annihilation in the name of "loyalty." Loona wasn't just addicted; she was remade. And like any shrewd dealer, Verosika had given the first hit free—seduction, a taste of belonging—before hooking her for life.
"Who's my good little puppy?" Verosika cooed in a childish, sing-song voice, pitching it high and mocking like she was talking to a lapdog, not a killer who could crush her windpipe in seconds. She reached into the robe's pocket and pulled out a bone-shaped rubber squeeze toy—pink, of course, with "Mutt" embossed in glittery letters. Loona's breath hitched at the sight, but she kept kissing, obedient.
Verosika squeezed the toy once—squeak!—and Loona froze mid-kiss, her head snapping up, green eyes wide with animalistic excitement, lips parted in anticipation.
"Aww, does puppy want her toy?" Verosika asked spitefully, dangling it just out of reach, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "Beg for it, Loony Toony. Show Mistress how much you need it."
Loona's voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Please... Mistress... I want it. I need it. Please..."
Verosika giggled wickedly, a sound like shattering crystal, and hurled the toy across the vast suite—bouncing off the marble floor toward the far wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Havenridge's glittering coastline.
Loona pounced without hesitation, scrambling on all fours like the dog she'd become, muscles flexing under her tattered crop top as she chased it down. She snatched it up in her teeth, shaking it triumphantly before turning back with a muffled whine, eyes pleading for approval.
Verosika leaned back against the pillows, her robe slipping open just enough to tease the curve of her breast, a flush of sexual pleasure warming her core. God, the control—the absolute, intoxicating power over this broken giant— it was better than any high. Her body hummed with it, thighs pressing together as she watched Loona crawl back, toy clamped in her jaws.
"Good girl," Verosika purred, snapping her fingers. "Now, strip for me, Mutt. Slowly. I've been waiting to play with my favorite toy all night."
Loona's eyes lit up with feverish eagerness—the moment she'd craved most, the ultimate submission. She dropped the toy and rose to her knees, fingers already tugging at the hem of her crop top, peeling it off to reveal the wolf tattoos rippling across her abs and back—
The door creaked open tentatively.
Niffty slipped in, her tiny frame dwarfed by the opulent room, dressed in a simple white kimono tied loosely at the waist, her black hair pinned up in a neat bun. Even as Verosika's personal maid with unrestricted access, she knew better than to interrupt these games. Her steps were slow, submissive, head bowed low as she approached the bed, hands clasped in front like a penitent.
"S-So sorry, Miss Mayday-sama!" Niffty stammered in her heavy Japanese accent, voice high and frantic, laced with self-deprecating bows. "Niffty bad! Very bad! No want disturb playtime! But... important! Hai! Must tell!"
Verosika's eyes narrowed, the mood fracturing like glass. Loona froze mid-undress, growling low in her throat—but a single raised hand from Verosika silenced her.
What happens next?
1. Niffty informs Verosika that she has an important phone call from some scientist.
2. Two admirers, a man and a woman, have snuck into her suite and they want to see her, the man bigger and more muscular than Loona.
She continued scratching behind Loona's ear with those long, manicured nails, digging just enough to send shivers through the bodyguard's body. Loona moaned between kisses, low and throaty, her green eyes half-lidded with raw desire. Her hips shifted involuntarily, muscles tensing as waves of need coursed through her. Verosika wasn't afraid—not even a flicker. She knew every crack in Loona's armor: the runaway childhood scarred by abandonment, the biker gang years where violence was the only shield against vulnerability, the prison stints that forged her into a lone wolf starving for connection. That deep, aching desire for love, for warmth, for a place to belong—Verosika had twisted it like a knife. Cynically, expertly, she'd warped it into something darker: a craving for enslavement, for service, for total self-annihilation in the name of "loyalty." Loona wasn't just addicted; she was remade. And like any shrewd dealer, Verosika had given the first hit free—seduction, a taste of belonging—before hooking her for life.
"Who's my good little puppy?" Verosika cooed in a childish, sing-song voice, pitching it high and mocking like she was talking to a lapdog, not a killer who could crush her windpipe in seconds. She reached into the robe's pocket and pulled out a bone-shaped rubber squeeze toy—pink, of course, with "Mutt" embossed in glittery letters. Loona's breath hitched at the sight, but she kept kissing, obedient.
Verosika squeezed the toy once—squeak!—and Loona froze mid-kiss, her head snapping up, green eyes wide with animalistic excitement, lips parted in anticipation.
"Aww, does puppy want her toy?" Verosika asked spitefully, dangling it just out of reach, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "Beg for it, Loony Toony. Show Mistress how much you need it."
Loona's voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Please... Mistress... I want it. I need it. Please..."
Verosika giggled wickedly, a sound like shattering crystal, and hurled the toy across the vast suite—bouncing off the marble floor toward the far wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Havenridge's glittering coastline.
Loona pounced without hesitation, scrambling on all fours like the dog she'd become, muscles flexing under her tattered crop top as she chased it down. She snatched it up in her teeth, shaking it triumphantly before turning back with a muffled whine, eyes pleading for approval.
Verosika leaned back against the pillows, her robe slipping open just enough to tease the curve of her breast, a flush of sexual pleasure warming her core. God, the control—the absolute, intoxicating power over this broken giant— it was better than any high. Her body hummed with it, thighs pressing together as she watched Loona crawl back, toy clamped in her jaws.
"Good girl," Verosika purred, snapping her fingers. "Now, strip for me, Mutt. Slowly. I've been waiting to play with my favorite toy all night."
Loona's eyes lit up with feverish eagerness—the moment she'd craved most, the ultimate submission. She dropped the toy and rose to her knees, fingers already tugging at the hem of her crop top, peeling it off to reveal the wolf tattoos rippling across her abs and back—
The door creaked open tentatively.
Niffty slipped in, her tiny frame dwarfed by the opulent room, dressed in a simple white kimono tied loosely at the waist, her black hair pinned up in a neat bun. Even as Verosika's personal maid with unrestricted access, she knew better than to interrupt these games. Her steps were slow, submissive, head bowed low as she approached the bed, hands clasped in front like a penitent.
"S-So sorry, Miss Mayday-sama!" Niffty stammered in her heavy Japanese accent, voice high and frantic, laced with self-deprecating bows. "Niffty bad! Very bad! No want disturb playtime! But... important! Hai! Must tell!"
Verosika's eyes narrowed, the mood fracturing like glass. Loona froze mid-undress, growling low in her throat—but a single raised hand from Verosika silenced her.
What happens next?
1. Niffty informs Verosika that she has an important phone call from some scientist.
2. Two admirers, a man and a woman, have snuck into her suite and they want to see her, the man bigger and more muscular than Loona.
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June 13
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