Back to the hotel
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 9
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Verosika's grip on Loona's wrist was iron—long, manicured nails digging in just enough to sting without breaking skin—as she dragged the towering bodyguard through the hotel's private elevator and down the empty corridor of the penthouse floor. The ride back had been torture for Loona.
The rented sedan's confined space had turned into a pressure cooker of Verosika's new scent: sweet, musky, intoxicating honey laced with raw sex and warm bronze skin. It saturated every breath Loona took, flooding her senses until her thighs clenched involuntarily, slick heat pooling between her legs. Every time Verosika shifted in the passenger seat—long legs crossing, robe parting to flash golden thigh—another wave hit. And then the voice: that newly richer, creamier purr snapping, "Faster, Mutt. I'm not paying you to crawl." Each impatient word vibrated straight to Loona's core, making her knuckles whiten on the wheel, making her bite her lip until it bled to keep from whimpering.
By the time the elevator doors slid open onto the suite, Loona was shaking.
Niffty was waiting just inside the foyer, feather duster in hand. The tiny maid froze mid-swipe, mouth falling open in a perfect little O of shock as Verosika swept past—hair now trailing like a silken river almost to the floor, body poured into clothes two sizes too small, every curve amplified, every movement dripping liquid sensuality.
"Miss Mayday-sama…?" Niffty squeaked, eyes huge behind her bangs.
Verosika didn't even glance at her. "Vodka. Strongest bottle we have. And cocaine—two lines, tray, now. Move."
"Hai! Right away!" Niffty scurried off like a startled mouse, kimono flapping.
Verosika shoved Loona backward through the bedroom doors. The Hellhound hit the edge of the massive pink satin bed and toppled onto it with a grunt, silver hair fanning out. Verosika loomed over her, eyes blazing with predatory hunger.
"Strip," she ordered, voice low and molten. "Everything. I want to see my puppy bare."
Loona obeyed instantly—fingers tearing at fabric with desperate violence. Crop top ripped at the seams, shorts shredded, stockings yanked down until she lay naked, pale skin flushed, wolf tattoos stark against heaving muscle, green eyes locked on Verosika in pleading worship.
Niffty reappeared, balancing a silver tray with trembling hands: a frosted bottle of top-shelf vodka, two neat lines of white powder arranged beside a rolled hundred-dollar bill.
Verosika snatched the bottle first, uncapped it with her teeth, and tipped it back. She drank in deep, greedy gulps—throat working, golden liquid spilling down her chin and between her swollen breasts. Her enhanced metabolism burned through most of it instantly; only a pleasant, buzzing warmth settled in her veins, sharpening every sensation without dulling control.
She handed the bottle off carelessly, snatched the rolled bill, bent over the tray, and snorted the first line in one smooth pull. Her head snapped back; she laughed—ecstatic, wild, triumphant—and leapt onto the bed.
Loona barely had time to gasp before Verosika was on her—straddling hips, pinning massive wrists above Loona's head with shocking ease, mouth crashing down in a bruising kiss. The new Verosika was relentless: tongue claiming, teeth nipping, hips grinding down in slow, punishing circles. Loona moaned into her mouth, hips bucking helplessly.
Verosika broke the kiss only to trail biting kisses down Loona's throat, across collarbones, to thick nipples that she sucked hard enough to bruise. One hand slid between Loona's thighs—fingers finding her soaked, swollen, plunging in without preamble. Loona arched, a broken growl tearing from her throat.
"You're so fucking wet for me already," Verosika purred against her skin. "Pathetic little puppy. Can't even last five minutes."
She worked Loona mercilessly—curling fingers, thumb circling her clit, free hand pinching and twisting nipples until Loona was thrashing. The first orgasm hit fast—Loona's back bowed, thighs clamping around Verosika's wrist as she came with a guttural cry.
"Splurge…
Spluurge…
Spluuurge…"
Thick release coated Verosika's fingers; she laughed and kept going.
The second came harder—Verosika pinning Loona's hips down, grinding her palm against her oversensitive clit while three fingers fucked deep and relentless. Loona sobbed, tears streaking her cheeks, body convulsing.
"Splurge…
Spluuurge…
Spluuuuurge…"
Verosika didn't stop. She flipped Loona onto her stomach, yanked her hips up, and mounted her from behind—fingers replaced by tongue, then fingers again, then both—driving Loona through a third, shattering climax that left the Hellhound trembling, voice hoarse.
"Splurge…
Spluuurge…
Spluuuuuurge…"
When it was over, Loona collapsed face-down, sweat-slicked, panting, muscles quivering with exhaustion. Cum and sweat soaked the sheets beneath her.
Verosika rose gracefully—still pristine, skin glowing, hair cascading like liquid silk, energy crackling around her like static. She stood over Loona's prone form, hands on hips, sneering down.
"Is that all you've got, Mutt?" she drawled, voice dripping disdain. "Three little squirts and you're done? Pathetic. I could go all night."
She bent, snorted the second line of cocaine off the tray Niffty had left on the nightstand, threw her head back with another euphoric laugh, then froze.
A low, throaty moan escaped her.
Her body shuddered.
Golden-bronze skin flushed hotter. Muscles twitched and swelled beneath the surface—not grotesquely, but powerfully. Shoulders broadened slightly while staying elegantly sloped; biceps and triceps thickened with sleek definition; abs carved deeper, a perfect six-pack rippling under flawless skin; thighs grew denser, more powerful, yet retained their long, feminine taper. Her back developed elegant wings of muscle, deltoids rounding beautifully. Even her forearms corded with new strength.
She grew—several inches taller still, frame expanding into something statuesque, muscular yet unmistakably feminine and delicate in proportion. Breasts remained impossibly firm and full, now perched atop a powerful torso. The robe—already strained—finally gave up, seams splitting with soft pops as her body settled into its new, enhanced form.
Verosika looked down at herself, ran both hands over the new contours—cupping heavier pecs, tracing the deep V of her hips, squeezing a bicep that flexed like coiled steel—and laughed again, darker, hungrier.
How BIG does she grow?
1. Verosika grows to the size of a human bodybuilder.
2. Verosika grows to an inhuman size.
The rented sedan's confined space had turned into a pressure cooker of Verosika's new scent: sweet, musky, intoxicating honey laced with raw sex and warm bronze skin. It saturated every breath Loona took, flooding her senses until her thighs clenched involuntarily, slick heat pooling between her legs. Every time Verosika shifted in the passenger seat—long legs crossing, robe parting to flash golden thigh—another wave hit. And then the voice: that newly richer, creamier purr snapping, "Faster, Mutt. I'm not paying you to crawl." Each impatient word vibrated straight to Loona's core, making her knuckles whiten on the wheel, making her bite her lip until it bled to keep from whimpering.
By the time the elevator doors slid open onto the suite, Loona was shaking.
Niffty was waiting just inside the foyer, feather duster in hand. The tiny maid froze mid-swipe, mouth falling open in a perfect little O of shock as Verosika swept past—hair now trailing like a silken river almost to the floor, body poured into clothes two sizes too small, every curve amplified, every movement dripping liquid sensuality.
"Miss Mayday-sama…?" Niffty squeaked, eyes huge behind her bangs.
Verosika didn't even glance at her. "Vodka. Strongest bottle we have. And cocaine—two lines, tray, now. Move."
"Hai! Right away!" Niffty scurried off like a startled mouse, kimono flapping.
Verosika shoved Loona backward through the bedroom doors. The Hellhound hit the edge of the massive pink satin bed and toppled onto it with a grunt, silver hair fanning out. Verosika loomed over her, eyes blazing with predatory hunger.
"Strip," she ordered, voice low and molten. "Everything. I want to see my puppy bare."
Loona obeyed instantly—fingers tearing at fabric with desperate violence. Crop top ripped at the seams, shorts shredded, stockings yanked down until she lay naked, pale skin flushed, wolf tattoos stark against heaving muscle, green eyes locked on Verosika in pleading worship.
Niffty reappeared, balancing a silver tray with trembling hands: a frosted bottle of top-shelf vodka, two neat lines of white powder arranged beside a rolled hundred-dollar bill.
Verosika snatched the bottle first, uncapped it with her teeth, and tipped it back. She drank in deep, greedy gulps—throat working, golden liquid spilling down her chin and between her swollen breasts. Her enhanced metabolism burned through most of it instantly; only a pleasant, buzzing warmth settled in her veins, sharpening every sensation without dulling control.
She handed the bottle off carelessly, snatched the rolled bill, bent over the tray, and snorted the first line in one smooth pull. Her head snapped back; she laughed—ecstatic, wild, triumphant—and leapt onto the bed.
Loona barely had time to gasp before Verosika was on her—straddling hips, pinning massive wrists above Loona's head with shocking ease, mouth crashing down in a bruising kiss. The new Verosika was relentless: tongue claiming, teeth nipping, hips grinding down in slow, punishing circles. Loona moaned into her mouth, hips bucking helplessly.
Verosika broke the kiss only to trail biting kisses down Loona's throat, across collarbones, to thick nipples that she sucked hard enough to bruise. One hand slid between Loona's thighs—fingers finding her soaked, swollen, plunging in without preamble. Loona arched, a broken growl tearing from her throat.
"You're so fucking wet for me already," Verosika purred against her skin. "Pathetic little puppy. Can't even last five minutes."
She worked Loona mercilessly—curling fingers, thumb circling her clit, free hand pinching and twisting nipples until Loona was thrashing. The first orgasm hit fast—Loona's back bowed, thighs clamping around Verosika's wrist as she came with a guttural cry.
"Splurge…
Spluurge…
Spluuurge…"
Thick release coated Verosika's fingers; she laughed and kept going.
The second came harder—Verosika pinning Loona's hips down, grinding her palm against her oversensitive clit while three fingers fucked deep and relentless. Loona sobbed, tears streaking her cheeks, body convulsing.
"Splurge…
Spluuurge…
Spluuuuurge…"
Verosika didn't stop. She flipped Loona onto her stomach, yanked her hips up, and mounted her from behind—fingers replaced by tongue, then fingers again, then both—driving Loona through a third, shattering climax that left the Hellhound trembling, voice hoarse.
"Splurge…
Spluuurge…
Spluuuuuurge…"
When it was over, Loona collapsed face-down, sweat-slicked, panting, muscles quivering with exhaustion. Cum and sweat soaked the sheets beneath her.
Verosika rose gracefully—still pristine, skin glowing, hair cascading like liquid silk, energy crackling around her like static. She stood over Loona's prone form, hands on hips, sneering down.
"Is that all you've got, Mutt?" she drawled, voice dripping disdain. "Three little squirts and you're done? Pathetic. I could go all night."
She bent, snorted the second line of cocaine off the tray Niffty had left on the nightstand, threw her head back with another euphoric laugh, then froze.
A low, throaty moan escaped her.
Her body shuddered.
Golden-bronze skin flushed hotter. Muscles twitched and swelled beneath the surface—not grotesquely, but powerfully. Shoulders broadened slightly while staying elegantly sloped; biceps and triceps thickened with sleek definition; abs carved deeper, a perfect six-pack rippling under flawless skin; thighs grew denser, more powerful, yet retained their long, feminine taper. Her back developed elegant wings of muscle, deltoids rounding beautifully. Even her forearms corded with new strength.
She grew—several inches taller still, frame expanding into something statuesque, muscular yet unmistakably feminine and delicate in proportion. Breasts remained impossibly firm and full, now perched atop a powerful torso. The robe—already strained—finally gave up, seams splitting with soft pops as her body settled into its new, enhanced form.
Verosika looked down at herself, ran both hands over the new contours—cupping heavier pecs, tracing the deep V of her hips, squeezing a bicep that flexed like coiled steel—and laughed again, darker, hungrier.
How BIG does she grow?
1. Verosika grows to the size of a human bodybuilder.
2. Verosika grows to an inhuman size.
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June 13
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