Mystery?, try slavery

Normal school life is the only one thing I wish it goes well, nothing more or less. Just called me CJ, an ordinary college student who attends lectures, submits assignments late, and occasionally skips class to play video games—nothing special. The kind of guy who blends into the background, unnoticed, forgotten.

One day, I feel really exhausted until it make me stay alone on the rooftop. Smoking cigarette and gazing at the bustling campus below, I barely register the soft click of heels approaching until the scent of vanilla and something darker—maybe whiskey?—hits me. "Mind if I join you?" Her voice is low, amused, like she already knows the answer. When I turn, she’s leaning against the railing, all sharp cheekbones and a smirk that shouldn’t belong in a place like this. Her skirt rides up just enough to make my throat go dry.

Her bangs nearly cover both of her eyes, she kinda hesitated and flustered, "I-I saw you here often..." Her cheeks flushed red, her fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of her skirt. "Yeah, kinda like this place though. Why?" I ask back while inhale my cigarette.

SUMMARY^1: CJ, an unremarkable college student, finds himself approached on the rooftop by a mysterious woman whose confident demeanor and striking appearance immediately unsettle him. Despite her initial boldness, she stammers nervously when speaking to him, hinting at hidden contradictions in her character.

She swallowed, her throat moving visibly, before stepping closer—close enough that I can see the faint tremor in her lower lip. "Because," she murmurs, her voice dropping to a whisper that sends a shiver down my spine, "I've been watching you." The admission hangs between us, heavy with something unspoken. Her fingers twitch like she wants to reach out, but she fists them in her skirt instead, knuckles whitening.

On second thought, I do remember this girl. Her name's Jane, a nerd goth girl from another class—always in oversized sweaters, scribbling notes with frantic intensity. But today? She's got this dangerous edge, like she stripped off the meek librarian act and stepped into someone else’s skin. "Watching me?" I exhale smoke, letting it curl between us. "Sounds like stalking."

She kinda embarrassed after hear my word, but she also exhale deeply—like she's been holding her breath. "Stalking implies I'm hiding," she says, voice steadier now, fingers unclenching from her skirt to trace the railing instead. "But you'd notice if you ever looked up from your damn phone." The way she says it isn’t accusatory; it’s almost fond, like she’s memorized the way I slouch in lecture halls, earbuds in, pretending the world doesn’t exist.

SUMMARY^1: Jane, a seemingly shy classmate CJ recognizes, admits to watching him openly, contrasting her usual reserved demeanor with boldness. CJ accuses her of stalking, but she counters that he’d have noticed her attention if he paid more attention to his surroundings, revealing familiarity with his habits.

"Okay, now I'm sacred." I said as I toss the cigarette butt over the edge, watching it tumble down three stories—but Jane doesn't flinch. Instead, she leans in, so close her breath ghosts over my jaw. "You should be," she murmurs, and there's something in her tone that makes my pulse spike. Her hand darts out suddenly, fingers curling around my wrist, and the contact sends a jolt through me. Her skin is fever-warm, and I realize she's shaking—not from nerves, but from something raw and electric barely held in check.

"You really wanna play this Jane?." I ask like daring her as my hand move on to her cheek, brushing her bangs to get a better look at her dark eyes—eyes that aren't shy anymore, just hungry. She exhales sharply, pressing into my touch, and I feel her teeth graze my thumb when she murmurs, "You have no idea." The rooftop breeze carries the sound of distant chatter from below, but up here, it's just the ragged rhythm of our breathing and the way her hips tilt forward, answering a question I hadn't even asked.

"Your call Jane, not mine." While move my thumb towards her lips, pressing gently—testing. She doesn't hesitate; her tongue darts out to lick along the pad of my thumb, slow and deliberate, her dark eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that makes my chest tighten. The heat between us isn't just physical—it's something darker, like she's been starving for this and I'm the only meal in sight. Her fingers dig into my wrist, nails biting just shy of pain, and I realize she's marking me, claiming me, in ways I didn’t expect from the quiet girl in the back row.

Just in few seconds, she kneel before me as she sucks on my dick and throat it with a messy, wet slurp that echoes in the quiet rooftop air. Her bangs keep falling into her eyes, but she doesn’t stop—doesn’t even slow—her tongue swirling around the head before taking me deeper, gagging slightly before pulling back with a gasp. "Fuck," I mutter, gripping the railing behind me as she looks up, lips glistening, and smirks like she’s won something.

"You're the slut here Jane, so act like it." As I hold her head and pounding her face rougher, forcing her to take my dick deeper, her gagging sounds mixed with wet slurps fill the air, her spit dripping down onto her thighs. She doesn't fight me—her hands claw at my jeans instead, her muffled moans vibrating around my cock as she takes every inch, tears streaking her flushed cheeks. The way her throat spasms around me is obscene, and I can feel her nails digging into my thighs through the denim, like she's afraid I'll stop.

"Mmmmph..." She moan around my length, sending delicious vibrations through you. Her tongue swirls along the underside, tracing the pulsing veins. She pulls back just enough to gasp for air, saliva stringing between her lips and my tip—then dives back down like she's chasing the taste. Her nails dig into my thighs, urging me deeper, and I realize she's not just taking it—she's fucking me with her throat, matching every thrust with a hungry swallow. The sound of her gagging is filthy, but the way her eyes roll back in pleasure is what undoes

[me.

As](http://me.As) I groan, erupting huge load inside her throat, she gulps it down messily—some of it spilling past her lips, dripping onto her chin and staining her blouse. She doesn’t pull away, though; her tongue laps at my softening length, coaxing every last drop from me until I have to tug her hair just to get her to stop. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, lips swollen and glistening, and when she finally looks up, her pupils are blown wide with satisfaction. "Still scared?" she whispers, voice wrecked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She positioning herself on her hands and knees like a dog in heat, looking back at me with wild, pleading eyes—her skirt hitched up, her soaked panties already pushed to the side. "Not done with you," I growl, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises as I slam into her without warning. The choked cry she lets out isn’t from pain—her walls clamp around me instantly, pulsing like she’s been waiting for this exact violation. The rooftop concrete scrapes her knees raw, but she arches her back deeper, fucking herself back onto me with reckless abandon.

"FUUUCK!! So deep! Splitting me open!" She wail, eyes rolling back and tongue roll out as she violently orgasm from the first thrust alone, spraying squirt all over my thighs and the concrete below, her body jerking uncontrollably. The sheer intensity of her reaction makes my cock throb inside her—she’s so tight, so greedy, her wetness dripping down my balls as she babbles incoherently between gasps. I can feel her pulse in every clench around me, her fingers scrabbling against the rough rooftop surface for purchase as I pound into her without mercy.

Her voice breaks into a high-pitched scream when I yank her hair back, arching her spine like a bowstring as my free hand wraps around her throat—not ****, just claiming. She whimpers, her body trembling, but she grinds back harder, her ass slapping against my hips with every brutal thrust. "Y-you’re gonna—gonna wreck me," she sobs, but her cunt grips me tighter, as if begging for exactly that. The smell of sex and sweat mixes with the cold rooftop air, her gasps turning into ragged, animalistic moans that echo off the walls around us.

"That's the point, bitch!!" I whisper to her ear—harsh, possessive—as my fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents. Her whole body shudders when I slam into her cervix, her back arching like a snapped wire as another orgasm rips through her, her cunt milking me in rhythmic pulses. She’s sobbing openly now, drool pooling on the concrete beneath her, but her thighs are slick with arousal, her body betraying how much she craves the brutality. The sound of skin slapping against skin is obscenely loud, punctuated by her choked-off moans every time I bottom out inside.

Her fingers scrabble against the rooftop’s rough surface, nails breaking as she claws for something to hold onto. "F-faster—!" she gasps, and the raw desperation in her voice sends a surge of primal satisfaction through me. I oblige, snapping my hips forward with bruising ****, her ass reddening under the impact. Her cries escalate, high and broken, as her vision blurs—her pupils blown so wide her irises are just thin rings of dark hunger. Every thrust punches the air from her lungs, her tits swaying wildly beneath her ruined blouse.

"Take this, bitch!!" As I groan, I filling inside her with thick pulses of cum, Jane's body convulses violently, her back arching off the concrete as she lets out a guttural scream. Her cunt spasms around me like a vice, milking me dry while her thighs tremble uncontrollably—her orgasm ripping through her with such **** that her vision whites out for a second. I don't pull out; instead, I grind deeper, forcing every last drop into her as she whimpers weakly, her body still twitching from

[overstimulation.

As](http://overstimulation.As) I pull it out, Jane collapse forward. Her face lock with same expression, tongue roll out and eye roll back. Her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as she lay sprawled on the cold rooftop concrete. Her thighs twitch involuntarily, slick with a mix of cum and her own arousal dripping onto the ground beneath her. I grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back just to watch her unfocused eyes struggle to meet mine—her lips part in a silent moan, too wrecked to form words.

I let her go as I stand up and take a snap of her **** yet orgasm form, "Guess have you as my toy wasn't bad after all." I smirked while adjusting my pants and pulling out another cigarette. Jane only manages a weak moan in response, her fingers twitching against the concrete as if trying to reach for me even now. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows over her sprawled body, highlighting the bite marks on her thighs and the glistening mess between her legs.

After that day, Jane and I start dating each other. Even I can't tell if this is really date or not, but we start hanging out together everytime at rooftop. We'll smoke cigarette together while sharing our cigarettes, drink **** together while sharing bottle, and fuck together while sharing body fluids. It's weird, but I kinda like it. Jane is a weird girl, but I kinda like her. She's not the kind of girl I would usually go for, but I can't help but be drawn to her. There's something about her that makes me want to ruin her, to break her, to own her completely.

But of course she kinda had "that" hobbies, every we feel eager each other she'll always bring new toys with her and beg me to use it on her—cuffs, ropes, blindfolds, even a fucking vibrator she'd smuggled in her backpack like contraband. Today, it's a leather collar with a silver ring that clinks when I yank it hard enough to make her gasp. "You're such a fucking cliché," I mutter, but she just grins up at me, her lipstick smeared from where she'd been sucking me off earlier. "You love it," she breathes, arching her back to press her tits against my leg like a cat demanding attention.

Toys by toys, one orgams to another, Jane pushed herself further—whimpering as I cinch the leather cuffs around her wrists, her skin already mottled with fading bruises from last time. "You're gonna fucking ruin me," she pants, but her thighs part eagerly when I drag the tip of the vibrator along her soaked folds, watching her stomach tense. I don’t answer; just flick the setting to high and press it against her clit, her scream muffled by the ball gag she insisted on wearing today. Her hips jerk wildly, the metal chain between her cuffs rattling as she tries to grind down, but I hold her still with a hand on her throat, letting the vibrations wreck her in shallow, unrelenting waves.

I've lost count on how many time I just burst one load to another inside her womb, but Jane still begs for more—her voice hoarse from screaming, her thighs sticky with a mix of sweat and cum. The vibrator buzzes mercilessly against her swollen clit, and her body convulses violently, her cunt clenching around nothing as another dry orgasm rips through her. She's so overstimulated that tears streak down her cheeks, but she still grinds down against the toy like a bitch in heat, her hips moving on autopilot.

One day, she invite me to her apartment. Like I guess, she had another toy. This fucking kigurumi latex suit—black, glossy, tight enough to make her gasp when she zipped it up. "Surprise," she breathed, spinning slowly so I could see the built-in harness, the open crotch, the way the material clung to every curve like a second skin. Her pupils were dilated, her fingers trembling as she handed me the remote to the vibrator already wedged inside her. "You're fucking insane," I muttered, but my cock twitched when she dropped to her knees, the latex squeaking as she nuzzled against my jeans.

"And yet you get hardened." Surprisingly I still can hear her voice from under that kigurumi mask while her latex-gloved fingers traced the outline of my cock through my jeans, slow and deliberate, her breath warm even through the stifling material. The harness beneath her suit gleamed under the dim apartment lights, straps digging into the plush flesh of her thighs—already marked from whatever depraved solo session she'd put herself through before I arrived. Her fingers trembled when she unbuttoned my jeans, not from hesitation but from anticipation, the rubbery scent of her suit mixing with the musk of her arousal.

The moment my cock sprang free, she licked a stripe up the length with a muffled moan, her latex-covered tongue strangely textured against my skin. The remote vibrator inside her whirred to life when I thumbed the control, making her hips jerk forward involuntarily—her cunt visibly dripping around the toy through the open crotch of the suit. "Still think I'm insane?" she taunted, voice distorted by the mask before taking me deep, her throat working around me in practiced swallows while the vibrator's buzz sent tremors through her entire body. I could feel her gag reflex fluttering against the head of my cock, but she didn't pull back, just clenched tighter like she was trying to milk me dry through sheer willpower.

"No, but you're about to." My face grin without I realized it, since I hold the remote of the vibrator, I increase it to the highest setting—making her entire body jerk violently against me as her muffled scream vibrates around my cock. The latex suit amplifies every tremor, her thighs quivering like she’s being electrocuted while her hips grind down on the toy buried inside her, **** for friction. Saliva drips down my shaft as she gags, her gloved fingers digging into my thighs hard enough to leave crescent marks through the fabric, but she doesn’t pull away—just takes it, her cunt clenching around nothing as another orgasm tears through her.

"GLRK... GLRK... MMMMPH!" Wet, gurgling noises spill from her stuffed mouth as i relentlessly pound her face. Tears stream down her flushed cheeks but she doesn't resist, submitting fully to her new role as my personal fucktoy. The latex gloves squeak against my thighs as she grips harder, silently begging for more.

I flick the remote to pulse mode - her entire body convulses violently against me, the sound of the vibrator inside her becoming obscenely loud. Her pussy visibly spasms through the open crotch, juices dripping onto the floor in thick strands. When I finally erupt down her throat, she swallows every drop without hesitation, her masked face nuzzling my softening cock like an affectionate pet.

Afterwards, she collapses onto her side, latex suit squeaking against the hardwood floor as she trembles through aftershocks. The vibrator's buzzing cuts off abruptly when I toss the remote aside, leaving her gasping into her mask's breathing holes. I can see her pulse hammering in her throat when I crouch down to peel the mask up just enough to reveal her swollen lips. "Still want more?" I murmur, thumbing at the drool on her chin.

She nods frantically, pupils blown black with need, and drags my fingers to the zipper between her legs—already sticky with the mess of her own orgasms. "Then beg properly," I say, twisting two fingers inside her without warning. Her back arches off the floor with a choked cry, her hips jerking to meet my thrusts as the sound of wet flesh fills the apartment.

The latex suit amplifies every twitch of her body, the material straining as she tenses around my fingers. When I curl them just right, her scream is muffled by the mask still half-covering her face—but the way her thighs clamp around my wrist tells me everything. Her cunt pulses violently, soaking my hand as she collapses back onto the floor, breath coming in ragged gasps.

"You're not done," I growl, flipping her onto her stomach with a rough yank of the collar ring. The harness straps dig deeper into her flesh as I drag her hips up, her ass reddening under my palm before I line myself up. She whimpers when I push in without preamble, her swollen walls clinging to me like she’s trying to milk me dry already. The sound of latex squeaking against skin mixes with the filthy slap of our bodies.

"Aaahhh yessss! So big and hard for me already... You feel incredible inside me..." she moans, her voice muffled by the latex mask as I start pounding into her with slow, deep strokes. The tightness of her latex suit amplifies every movement, making her skin squeak against mine with each thrust. She pushes back against me desperately, her gloved hands gripping the floor for leverage, her hips undulating in perfect rhythm with mine. The sound of our bodies slapping together echoes through the apartment, mixing with her choked moans and the wet squelch of her dripping pussy.

I reach forward and grab the back of her collar, yanking her head back sharply as I bury myself to the hilt. Her back arches beautifully, the material of the suit straining over her curves as she gasps for air through the mask. "You love this, don't you? Being my little latex fuckdoll," I growl in her ear, grinding against her ass to feel her shudder around me. She nods frantically, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her thighs trembling as another orgasm builds inside her. The way her pussy clenches around me tells me she's close—her body betraying her need even as she tries to hold on.

I can tell that her mind goes blank from the relentless pounding, reduced to a babbling mess. Drool leaks from the corner of her slack mouth as she surrenders completely to the overwhelming pleasure. The way her pussy rhythmically clenches around my cock betrays her impending orgasm—her body spasming uncontrollably despite her best efforts to hold back.

Her muffled screams reach a fever pitch as I tighten my grip on her collar and slam into her cervix one final time, triggering her climax with brutal precision. Her entire body locks up for a split second before convulsing violently—her thighs quivering, her toes curling, her fingers clawing uselessly at the floorboards. The sound of her juices squirting onto the hardwood mingles with her choked sobs beneath the mask.

I don't let up, fucking her through the aftershocks with punishing strokes that leave her whimpering incoherently. The scent of latex, sweat, and sex fills the air as I feel my own release building—her tight cunt milking me mercilessly even as she trembles from overstimulation.

When I finally erupt inside her, filling the condom with thick pulses, she collapses completely—her body limp except for the occasional twitch of pleasure. I stay buried deep, savoring the way her walls flutter weakly around me as she drifts into subspace, her breath slowing to shallow pants against the floor.

I grab a mask nearby and wear it for myself before take a snap of her passed out on the floor—latex suit shimmering under the apartment lights, her legs splayed obscenely with the harness straps cutting into her flushed skin. She stirs slightly when the flash goes off, a weak moan escaping the mask as her fingers twitch toward me instinctively—even ****, her body remembers its owner.

The next morning, I wake up to Jane straddling my lap in nothing but the collar from last night, the silver ring clinking as she grinds against my morning wood with practiced ease. "You signed the lease on this pussy," she murmurs, nipping at my jaw, and slides down onto me with a satisfied sigh. Her apartment keys gleam on my nightstand where she'd tossed them last week—subtle as ever, just like the way she'd "forgotten" her panties in my backpack yesterday.

By midterms, she's got a drawer at my place stocked with her favorite toys and a spare key tucked between her tits whenever we go out. The professors don't notice how her throat clicks when she swallows too fast in class, or how she shifts in her seat whenever my phone buzzes with the remote app connected to the vibe I buried inside her before lecture.

The best part? No one suspects a thing when she kneels under my desk during study group, her lips sealed around me while the girls debate Kant overhead—because Jane's always been quiet, always been good at disappearing. Just not for me. Never for me.