M. Bison’s sex

After Rose defeated Seth, M. Bison ambushes her and grabs hold of her face, taking back what little power of his remained in her, and awakening the memories of what he did while in her body, as well as visions of the horrific acts he would continue to do. When finished, he decided to lets her live to be his sex toy, Bison poured Psycho energy into her mind as it started to corrupt her mind. Rose couldn't resist since Bison had already drained her strength and her soul power moments ago as her mind is fading away.

Rose's eyes widened in horror as she felt the Psycho Power surge through her veins. The energy was cold and invasive, like icy fingers probing her thoughts. She could feel her own soul power fading, leaving her defenseless against Bison's corruption. Memories flooded her mind—visions of destruction and despair that Bison had inflicted upon the world. Her body trembled, muscles straining against an invisible ****, but she couldn't break free.

Then Bison felt her body went limp, so he dropped her **** body on the floor. After a few minutes she finally came to, Rose was acting different as the light in her eyes was gone replaced by a blank, calm, and obedient look as she was sitting on her knees and waiting for orders.

Bison smiled coldly as he looked down at her. "You belong to me now," he stated, his voice echoing in the silent room. Rose didn't flinch; she just stared ahead with empty eyes, her breathing shallow and even. The corruption had settled deep, twisting her thoughts into passive acceptance. Her vibrant spirit was smothered under layers of Psycho Power, leaving only hollow obedience.

Bison crossed his arms and gave a command to his new toy, “Unzip my pants and suck my dick, slut”

Rose immediately obeyed, her movements smooth and mechanical. She shuffled forward on her knees, fingers deftly working the zipper down without hesitation as his massive cock sprang out in front of her. There was no disgust in her expression, only vacant focus as she leaned in. Her lips parted, ready to serve. Bison watched with cold satisfaction, one hand resting possessively on the top of her head.

He didn’t rush her. The slow, deliberate pace was part of the victory—proof of his absolute control. Rose’s eyes remained unfocused, distant, as if her mind had retreated somewhere far away. Not even a faintest tremor or resistance as she takes the head of his cock into her mouth preparing for sucking.

Her mouth was warm and compliant, moving with a hollow rhythm that served only to please. Bison’s hand tightened in her hair, guiding her deeper, forcing her throat to open. She gagged softly but didn’t pull back. No tears welled in her eyes, yet her expression stayed unnervingly placid—a doll performing its function.

He watched the rise and fall of her shoulders, the slackness in her posture. The Psycho Power had hollowed her out completely, erasing defiance. Every obedient motion was a testament to his victory. Her soul, once a radiant shield against darkness, was now smothered under his will. She existed only to obey.

Bison’s grip tightened, forcing her head down until her nose pressed against his abdomen. She took him deeper, throat muscles fluttering around him without protest. The wet heat of her mouth, the mechanical rhythm—it was efficient, soulless. He studied her vacant eyes. No flicker of Rose remained, just the perfect stillness of a puppet.

He began to thrust, sharp and shallow at first, testing the limits of her submission. Her jaw stayed slack, accommodating each movement without resistance. Saliva slicked his length as she choked silently, her body rocking with the ****. Still, her expression didn’t change. Only the faintest tears welled—reflex, not emotion—before spilling down her cheeks.

Bison’s pace deepened, hips snapping forward to bury himself to the hilt. Her throat convulsed wildly around him, but she didn’t pull away. He watched the muscles in her neck strain, the way her fingers twitched limply at her sides. Every gag, every shudder, only fueled his dominance. This wasn’t pleasure; it was ownership carved into flesh. Her mind was gone, but her body still reacted—a hollow vessel for his control.

He set a brutal rhythm, slamming into her with enough **** to rock her entire frame. Her eyes watered uncontrollably, tears streaking through the dust on her cheeks. Yet her expression remained eerily placid, a doll enduring use. The wet, choked sounds filled the room, punctuated by Bison’s low grunts. He gripped her hair like reins, forcing her head to meet every thrust. Her lips were raw, stretched taut around him.

Her throat convulsed violently with each deep penetration, a raw, gagging reflex she couldn't suppress. Spit and tears slicked her chin, dripping onto the cold floor. Still, she offered no resistance, her body limp except where he held her. Bison watched the ruin he was making of her mouth, the way her eyes stared sightlessly past his hip. There was no Rose left to fight, only this broken vessel.

He drove into her relentlessly, the wet slap of skin echoing in the barren room. Her jaw ached, her throat burned, but the Psycho Power smothered any pain into distant static. She existed only as a receptacle for his will. His grunts grew harsher, his thrusts losing rhythm, becoming jagged, possessive lunges that threatened to **** her completely. Her vision blurred, darkening at the edges.

Bison’s control snapped taut. With a final, brutal thrust that arched her spine unnaturally, he held her impaled, shuddering as he emptied himself down her ravaged throat. She swallowed reflexively, mechanically, the bitter taste just another sensation in the void. He stayed buried for a long moment, his hand still fisted in her hair, watching her vacant eyes water and her body tremble with the aftershocks of violation.

He withdrew slowly, the slick sound obscene in the sudden stillness. Rose remained kneeling, head bowed, spit and tears mingling on her chin. Her breathing was shallow, ragged, but her expression hadn’t changed – that eerie, obedient blankness. He looked down at her, not with just satisfaction, but with cold assessment. The corruption was deep, the vessel intact. She was perfect.