Bed. Now.

I push her forward with a hand splayed across her lower back, feeling the subtle arch she gives in response, her body anticipating the bend even as her breath hitches in protest or invitation, the line blurring under the weave's insistent pull. She sprawls across the bed on all fours first, then lowers her chest to the rumpled sheets, her pale skin contrasting with the faded blue fabric, ass lifting instinctively into the air like an offering. The room smells faintly of earlier conquests, that composite of sweat and surrender, but it's Viktoriya's scent that dominates now. Clean salt from the pool mixed with the sharper tang of her arousal, hanging in the dim air like a question only I can answer.

I strip off my trunks fully, letting them drop with a soft thud, my cock heavy and aching from her mouth's efficient attention, slick with her saliva. The app hums in the back of my mind, influence climbing steady at 70%, resistance fracturing like thin ice under pressure. She's wired tight, this one. Her body wound like a spring, every muscle earned from those precise swims, now quivering as I kneel behind her on the mattress. My hands trace her hips first, firm and deliberate, thumbs digging into the lean muscle there, spreading her slightly. She's soaked, the neat trim of her pubic hair matted darkly, lips parted and glistening, clit peeking swollen from its hood. I drag the head of my cock along her slit slowly, teasing without entering, coating myself in her heat as she moans low, a guttural sound muffled into the pillow.

"Please," she whispers, the word accented and broken, her fingers twisting the sheets as she pushes back, seeking more contact. I can feel her resistance clinging still, that starred high from the scan making her surrender a fight she doesn't fully understand, but the weave amplifies her need, turning it into a weapon aimed straight at her core. I send another command silently, the app's interface flickering on my phone tucked on the nightstand. Viktoriya, the emptiness inside you aches sharply now. You need to be filled, to be taken completely by this man, your body molding to his command. Her reaction is visceral, a shudder rippling from her shoulders down her spine, thighs clenching briefly before parting wider, a soft keen escaping her lips.

I grip her hip with one hand, the other guiding myself to her entrance, and thrust in steadily, inch by inch, savoring the tight clench of her around me. She's narrower than Laura, more resistant even here, walls fluttering in protest before yielding, hot and wet and pulling me deeper like a vice wrapped in velvet. She gasps sharply when I bottom out, her head lifting, blonde strands slicked back and falling loose now, framing her flushed face as she glances over her shoulder. Those storm-gray eyes meet mine, wide with a mix of shock and hunger, her accent thickening as she breathes, "God, you're... thick." Her English fractures under the strain, precise no longer, and I smile, low and predatory, the power in my veins surging electric, feeding on her unraveling.

I start moving then, slow drags at first, pulling nearly all the way out to let her feel the loss, the drag of veins along her sensitive inner walls, before sinking back in with a controlled snap of my hips. The bed creaks faintly under us, mattress dipping with each motion, her small breasts swaying pendulously beneath her as she braces on her forearms. She's responsive in her efficiency, pushing back to meet me halfway, her ass pressing firmly against my pelvis with every plunge, the slap of skin echoing soft in the cramped room. I reach around, fingers finding her clit, circling it with firm, teasing pressure that makes her buck, a whine building in her throat. The weave deepens it, her pleasure feeding back through the app like a live current, influence ticking to 85%, resistance dropping in increments that taste like victory.

Sweat beads along her spine, tracing the elegant line of it down to where we're joined, and I lean over her, chest pressing to her back, my mouth finding the shell of her ear. "Good girl," I murmur, voice gravel-rough against her skin, lips brushing the damp lobe. "Take it deeper for me." She shudders at the words, body clenching around me tighter, her breaths coming in ragged pants now, accent lost to moans that rise in pitch with each thrust. I straighten again, hands gripping both hips, pulling her onto me harder, faster, the rhythm shifting from teasing to claiming, my balls tightening with the building pressure. Her walls flutter erratically, that telltale sign of her edge approaching, but I hold back, drawing it out, making her beg in that fractured lilt. "More... harder, please, I need..."

The multi-weave amplifies everything, echoes of Sarah and Laura threading through the moment like undercurrents. Sarah's devoted purr from earlier, Laura's keening cries on the couch, now blending with Viktoriya's precision fractured into desperation. It makes my blood sing, the 1.5x multiplier a promise humming low in my gut, accelerating this toward something unbreakable. I send one more command, the app's pulse syncing with my heartbeat. Viktoriya, you're close, but you don't come until I say. Hold it for me, let it build until it breaks you open, binding you eternally. She cries out at that, body tensing like a bowstring, her lithe frame trembling beneath me, thighs shaking as she fights the denial, arousal dripping down her inner thighs in slick trails.

I fuck her relentlessly now, pace turning punishing, each thrust burying me to the hilt, her ass rippling faintly with the impact despite her toned build. One hand slides up her back to fist in her hair, pulling her head back gently but firmly, arching her further for deeper access, the angle letting me grind against that spot inside her that makes stars burst in her eyes. She goes pliant under it, submission flooding her, the last shards of resistance dissolving as influence hits 95%. Tears streak her cheeks from the intensity, but she doesn't stop meeting my thrusts, her body a perfectly oiled machine finally synchronized to my will. The room fills with the wet sounds of us. Skin slapping skin, her gasps blending with my low grunts, the faint creak of the bed a rhythm marking her fall.

I feel her crests building higher, the denial turning her into a live wire, every muscle tense and quivering, her pussy milking me in **** pulses that nearly undo me. The power thrums sharper now, contained but electric, my veins alive with the addictive drag of control, nothing else satisfying this hunger but piling on another thread, weaving her onto the loom with Sarah and Laura. She sobs out my control, words tumbling in her native tongue mixed with English pleas. "Tak, please, let me... I can't..." But I hold her there, on the precipice, thrusting with deliberate savagery, feeling the weave root deeper, like roots burrowing into soil too fertile to resist.

Finally, as her body starts to break under the strain, walls convulsing wildly around me, I growl the release. "Cum for me, Viktoriya. Now." She shatters with a cry that's raw and unrestrained, a keening wail that echoes off the walls, her pussy clamping down in rhythmic waves that pull me under. Influence locks at 100%, resistance zero, the bond absolute, and I follow seconds later, thrusting deep one last time, spilling inside her in thick, pulsing jets that mark her completely. The pleasure crashes through me, white-hot and blinding, the app surging with approval as the multiplier flares, experience bar filling in a rush that warps the edge of everything.

She collapses forward, limp and spent, body trembling with aftershocks as I ease out, watching my release trickle from her swollen lips, a visible claim. I smooth a hand along her spine, feeling the shiver it draws, and command softly, "Rest here, Viktoriya. Dream of serving me, just like the others. This is your haven until I call." Her eyelids flutter shut, a contented sigh escaping as she curls into the sheets, blonde hair fanning out like pale vines. The room settles, thick with the scent of our joining, and I stand, pulse steadying, the hum in my veins sharper now, hungrier for whatever thread dangles next.

Across the hall, Sarah and Laura dream on, bound eternal, and now Viktoriya joins them, three threads woven tight. The afternoon sun slants lower through the window, casting longer shadows, but the hunt feels unfinished, the multi-weave begging for more.