Sex
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 14
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Verosika stood in the dusty scrapyard sunlight, sweat-slicked golden-orange skin gleaming like polished bronze, every massive muscle still pumped and vascular from her display of absurd strength. The crumpled pickup truck lay at her feet like a discarded soda can. She licked her lips slowly—long, serpentine tongue flicking out—eyes half-lidded with predatory lust as she regarded Lute and Odette.
Both women were visibly wrecked: Lute’s usually rigid posture had softened into trembling knees, nipples stabbing through her shirt, a dark damp patch blooming between her thighs. Odette clutched her clipboard like a lifeline, glasses askew, face flushed crimson, breathing in shallow pants.
Verosika’s voice dropped to a velvet purr, thick with smug entitlement.
“Look at you two… dripping just from watching me play. How pathetic.” She took one deliberate step forward, quads and glutes flexing obscenely with each movement. “You’re both soaked for your goddess, aren’t you? Don’t bother lying—I can smell it.”
Lute swallowed audibly. Odette whimpered.
Verosika’s smile turned razor-sharp.
“I’m horny. Painfully, disgustingly horny. And lucky for you, I’ve decided you’re both coming to my quarters. Right now. We’re going to have a proper welcome party—me, you two, and whatever toys or holes I feel like using.”
She flexed both biceps casually—peaks rising like mountain ranges, veins throbbing—and the sheer casual menace of it made both women flinch.
“Refuse me,” she said sweetly, “and I’ll fold you in half like I folded that truck. Bones snap so easily when you’re this strong. Nod if you understand how utterly beneath me you are.”
Lute nodded first—sharp, military, terrified.
“Yes… Ma’am.”
Odette’s head jerked up and down like a marionette.
“Y-Yes, Verosika…”
“Perfect.” Verosika turned on her heel, ass bouncing with arrogant swagger. “Follow. Crawl if you have to. I don’t care.”
She paused, glancing back at Odette.
“You—lab rat. Back to your little science cave. No tests today. I’m not in the mood to be poked and prodded like some lab mouse. Go make yourself useful. Maybe invent something that keeps my toys from breaking too fast.”
Odette opened her mouth to protest—then saw the look in Verosika’s eyes and closed it. She bowed jerkily and hurried away, lab coat flapping.
Verosika didn’t wait. She strode back toward the main warehouse, Lute trailing a step behind like a condemned prisoner. Inside, the converted living quarters swallowed them—pink marble, velvet drapes, a bed the size of a small stage. Verosika kicked the door shut, locked it with a casual flick of her wrist (the deadbolt groaned in protest), and turned.
She flexed again—slow, deliberate, every muscle group popping under sweat-glistened skin.
“Strip me,” she ordered Lute. “With your teeth if you have to. I want to feel how badly you worship this body.”
Lute obeyed instantly—shaking fingers tearing at the sports bra until it ripped away. Verosika’s breasts bounced free—impossibly full, rock-hard, nipples dark and erect. The shorts followed, shredded in seconds. Naked now, sweat dripping in rivulets down the deep channels between her abs, tracing the V of her hips, pooling between her powerful thighs, Verosika looked like a living statue of dominance and sex.
She grabbed Lute by the throat—not choking, just possessive—and yanked her into a brutal, wet kiss. Tongues clashed; Verosika’s was longer, more agile, claiming every inch of Lute’s mouth. Lute moaned into it—helpless, surrendering completely. Her body went limp against the wall of muscle pinning her.
Verosika ripped Lute’s clothes away in one violent motion—fabric tearing like paper. She spun the smaller woman, slammed her chest-first against the wall, and ground her sweat-slicked body against Lute’s back. One massive arm wrapped around Lute’s waist, fingers plunging between her legs without preamble. Lute screamed—high, broken, ecstatic—as Verosika’s thick digits filled her, curled, pumped with superhuman precision and force.
“You’re mine,” Verosika growled against Lute’s ear. “This tight little cunt, this trembling body—mine to ruin whenever I want.”
She used her strength shamelessly—lifting Lute off the floor with one arm, legs dangling, fingers never stopping their relentless rhythm. Lute’s screams turned to sobs of pleasure; her body convulsed, thighs quaking, release gushing down Verosika’s forearm.
Verosika didn’t stop. She carried Lute to the bed—still impaled on her fingers—dropped her onto the satin sheets, then climbed over her. She pinned Lute’s wrists above her head with one hand, the other guiding Lute’s mouth to her breast. Lute suckled desperately, tongue swirling around the hard nipple while Verosika ground her dripping core against Lute’s thigh, leaving slick trails.
When Lute came again—back arching, screaming Verosika’s name—Verosika finally released her wrists. Lute collapsed, panting, ruined.
Verosika rose, straddling Lute’s waist, and began to masturbate—fingers plunging deep, thumb circling her swollen clit with brutal efficiency. Her abs flexed in rhythmic waves, sweat flying, breasts bouncing with each thrust of her hand. Her moans grew louder, deeper, until—
Splurge…
Spluurge…
Spluuurge…
Thick, sticky, grease-like cum erupted from her in heavy ropes—splattering across Lute’s chest, stomach, face. Verosika kept stroking through it, milking every last pulse, until she finally shuddered and collapsed beside her conquest, chest heaving, smug satisfaction radiating from every pore.
Lute lay limp, covered in Verosika’s release, eyes glazed with worshipful exhaustion.
What happens next?
1. Verosika falls asleep and wakes up in the morning to find that she has grown.
2. Verosika falls asleep and wakes up in the morning unchanged.
Both women were visibly wrecked: Lute’s usually rigid posture had softened into trembling knees, nipples stabbing through her shirt, a dark damp patch blooming between her thighs. Odette clutched her clipboard like a lifeline, glasses askew, face flushed crimson, breathing in shallow pants.
Verosika’s voice dropped to a velvet purr, thick with smug entitlement.
“Look at you two… dripping just from watching me play. How pathetic.” She took one deliberate step forward, quads and glutes flexing obscenely with each movement. “You’re both soaked for your goddess, aren’t you? Don’t bother lying—I can smell it.”
Lute swallowed audibly. Odette whimpered.
Verosika’s smile turned razor-sharp.
“I’m horny. Painfully, disgustingly horny. And lucky for you, I’ve decided you’re both coming to my quarters. Right now. We’re going to have a proper welcome party—me, you two, and whatever toys or holes I feel like using.”
She flexed both biceps casually—peaks rising like mountain ranges, veins throbbing—and the sheer casual menace of it made both women flinch.
“Refuse me,” she said sweetly, “and I’ll fold you in half like I folded that truck. Bones snap so easily when you’re this strong. Nod if you understand how utterly beneath me you are.”
Lute nodded first—sharp, military, terrified.
“Yes… Ma’am.”
Odette’s head jerked up and down like a marionette.
“Y-Yes, Verosika…”
“Perfect.” Verosika turned on her heel, ass bouncing with arrogant swagger. “Follow. Crawl if you have to. I don’t care.”
She paused, glancing back at Odette.
“You—lab rat. Back to your little science cave. No tests today. I’m not in the mood to be poked and prodded like some lab mouse. Go make yourself useful. Maybe invent something that keeps my toys from breaking too fast.”
Odette opened her mouth to protest—then saw the look in Verosika’s eyes and closed it. She bowed jerkily and hurried away, lab coat flapping.
Verosika didn’t wait. She strode back toward the main warehouse, Lute trailing a step behind like a condemned prisoner. Inside, the converted living quarters swallowed them—pink marble, velvet drapes, a bed the size of a small stage. Verosika kicked the door shut, locked it with a casual flick of her wrist (the deadbolt groaned in protest), and turned.
She flexed again—slow, deliberate, every muscle group popping under sweat-glistened skin.
“Strip me,” she ordered Lute. “With your teeth if you have to. I want to feel how badly you worship this body.”
Lute obeyed instantly—shaking fingers tearing at the sports bra until it ripped away. Verosika’s breasts bounced free—impossibly full, rock-hard, nipples dark and erect. The shorts followed, shredded in seconds. Naked now, sweat dripping in rivulets down the deep channels between her abs, tracing the V of her hips, pooling between her powerful thighs, Verosika looked like a living statue of dominance and sex.
She grabbed Lute by the throat—not choking, just possessive—and yanked her into a brutal, wet kiss. Tongues clashed; Verosika’s was longer, more agile, claiming every inch of Lute’s mouth. Lute moaned into it—helpless, surrendering completely. Her body went limp against the wall of muscle pinning her.
Verosika ripped Lute’s clothes away in one violent motion—fabric tearing like paper. She spun the smaller woman, slammed her chest-first against the wall, and ground her sweat-slicked body against Lute’s back. One massive arm wrapped around Lute’s waist, fingers plunging between her legs without preamble. Lute screamed—high, broken, ecstatic—as Verosika’s thick digits filled her, curled, pumped with superhuman precision and force.
“You’re mine,” Verosika growled against Lute’s ear. “This tight little cunt, this trembling body—mine to ruin whenever I want.”
She used her strength shamelessly—lifting Lute off the floor with one arm, legs dangling, fingers never stopping their relentless rhythm. Lute’s screams turned to sobs of pleasure; her body convulsed, thighs quaking, release gushing down Verosika’s forearm.
Verosika didn’t stop. She carried Lute to the bed—still impaled on her fingers—dropped her onto the satin sheets, then climbed over her. She pinned Lute’s wrists above her head with one hand, the other guiding Lute’s mouth to her breast. Lute suckled desperately, tongue swirling around the hard nipple while Verosika ground her dripping core against Lute’s thigh, leaving slick trails.
When Lute came again—back arching, screaming Verosika’s name—Verosika finally released her wrists. Lute collapsed, panting, ruined.
Verosika rose, straddling Lute’s waist, and began to masturbate—fingers plunging deep, thumb circling her swollen clit with brutal efficiency. Her abs flexed in rhythmic waves, sweat flying, breasts bouncing with each thrust of her hand. Her moans grew louder, deeper, until—
Splurge…
Spluurge…
Spluuurge…
Thick, sticky, grease-like cum erupted from her in heavy ropes—splattering across Lute’s chest, stomach, face. Verosika kept stroking through it, milking every last pulse, until she finally shuddered and collapsed beside her conquest, chest heaving, smug satisfaction radiating from every pore.
Lute lay limp, covered in Verosika’s release, eyes glazed with worshipful exhaustion.
What happens next?
1. Verosika falls asleep and wakes up in the morning to find that she has grown.
2. Verosika falls asleep and wakes up in the morning unchanged.
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June 13
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