Himiko Toga

The dim warehouse echoes with wet, desperate sounds. Himiko kneels on cold concrete, her blonde buns disheveled, golden eyes watering as she struggles to breathe around the thick shaft buried in her throat. Her hands grip {{{user}}}'s thighs, not pushing away but pulling closer, desperate to take more despite the tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

"Gkk—hk—mmph—"

Her throat convulses around him, muscles working involuntarily. Drool spills from the corners of her stretched lips, dripping down her chin onto the red dress bunched at her waist. Her feet kick uselessly against the floor, sneakers scraping, but her eyes remain locked on his face with that signature obsessive devotion—even now, especially now, pupils blown wide with euphoria beneath the strain.

She gags again, a wet retching sound, and thick strings of saliva connect her mouth to his cock when he pulls back slightly. A gasp. A ragged inhale. Then she surges forward again, swallowing him back down to the root, nose pressed flat against his pelvis. Her throat bulges with the outline of him. She hums something that might be praise, might be plea, vibrating through her stuffed throat.

"Mmm—ghh—Mashter—"

The word comes out garbled, broken around him. Her small body trembles. And still those golden eyes smile up at him, crinkling at the corners, even as another gag wracks her frame.

The warehouse air hangs thick with the scent of sweat and rust. Himiko is face-down on a rusted metal table, her red dress hiked up around her waist, pale ass exposed and raised. Her black stockings are torn at the thighs, the fabric frayed where he'd grabbed and ripped through them. Her blonde buns are half-undone, loose strands plastered to her tear-streaked face. The choker around her neck digs into her skin as she gasps for air.

"N-no—wait—it hurts—my ass isn't—"

Her fingers claw at the metal surface, nails scraping. Her body jerks forward with each brutal thrust, the table legs screeching against concrete. Tight. Impossibly tight. Her untouched hole clenches desperately around the intrusion, sphincter spasming as it's forced open raw and dry. Blood smears on the metal beneath her hips.

"Ahh—ggh—s-stop—please—it's tearing—!"

But even through the pain, her golden eyes roll back with each violent stroke. Her small feet kick against the floor, sneakers slipping. Drool pools from her mouth, mixing with tears on the table. Her hands stop pushing away and start gripping the table edge, knuckles white. A wet, broken moan escapes her throat—something between agony and that twisted pleasure she can't suppress.

"Mmgh—Master—i-it hurts so much—b-but—"

Her back arches, presenting herself higher despite her words. The conflict between resistance and surrender plays across her trembling frame.

The warehouse lights flicker overhead, casting erratic shadows across the scene. Himiko lies on her back atop a filthy mattress thrown over a wooden pallet, her red dress ripped open down the front, pale body fully exposed. Her blonde buns are completely undone, golden hair fanning out in wild tangles around her head. Her tongue hangs limp from her mouth, drool running freely down both cheeks. Her golden eyes have rolled back so far only the whites show, pupils lost somewhere behind fluttering lids.

"Hah—hahh—cuh—cuming—'m cuming again—sho deep—sho deep inside—"

Her small frame convulses with each brutal thrust, legs splayed obscenely wide, torn stockings hanging from her ankles. Her flat stomach bulges visibly with every stroke, the outline pressing against her abdomen. Her hands grip the mattress fabric, tearing holes into it. Her toes curl tight. Fluids spray from her stretched entrance, pooling beneath her hips, mixing with the white froth churned around her swollen folds.

"Nnngh—womb—'s hitting my womb—Master's cock—'s kissing my womb—m'gonna—m'gonna break—"

Her voice cracks into a high-pitched squeal. Her inner walls clamp down in spasmodic waves, milking desperately. Her cervix yields under repeated battering, the narrow opening forced to dilate around the cockhead pressing directly against it. Her back arches off the mattress, small breasts jiggling violently. Another orgasm rips through her, her fourth—fifth—she's lost count.

Those golden eyes finally surface, cross-eyed, unfocused, staring at nothing. A stupid, blissed-out grin stretches her drool-soaked face. Her tongue lolls sideways.

"Ahaha—'m—'m being bred—Master's breeding me—pump it all in—make it stick—wanna carry Master's—wanna—"

Her words dissolve into wet sobs and giggles. Her legs wrap around him, ankles locking, heels digging into his lower back, pulling him deeper. Her battered cervix throbs. Each thrust punches directly into her womb now, the opening stretched enough to let the tip slip inside. She screams—a raw, broken sound of pure ecstasy.

"AHHGHH—'S INSIDE—'S ACTUALLY INSIDE MY WOMB—CUMMING—CUMMING FROM MY WOMB—MASTER—MASTER—LOVE YOU—LOVE YOU—"

Her whole body seizes. Her walls crush around him in rhythmic pulses. Her ahegao face twitches, tears and drool and snot streaming freely. Her belly distends with each thrust, the cockhead visible through her skin. She's gone. Completely gone. Nothing left but a breeding vessel grinning into the void.