Chapter 25: Ace mounts CC doggystyle on the sticky basement floor, the team forming a crude circle around them as she slams the strap-on into CC's dripping hole with brutal strokes. 'Look at her take it!' Ace snarls, yanking CC's hair to force her face toward the gawking players while her free hand reaches around to viciously rub CC's swollen clit, making her sob through another violent orgasm that splatters the concrete beneath them.
The stale beer and popcorn smell of the team house basement felt thick, a comforting fug after the locker room's sharp, humid violence. Laughter bounced off the low ceiling, punctuated by the clatter of ping pong balls and the thud of cheap speakers. Lee nursed a lukewarm beer, perched on the arm of a sagging couch, listening to Maya from the track team recount a disastrous Tinder date. His gaze, however, kept drifting towards the beer pong table where Ace and CC stood close, ostensibly taking their turn.
Ace leaned in, murmuring something that made CC’s cheeks flush, her green eyes darting nervously around the room. Lee saw the tension thrumming between them, a familiar electricity since the library incident, but magnified tenfold since the locker room. He’d seen the raw bite mark peeking above CC’s collar earlier, noticed how she flinched when Ace moved too suddenly beside her. Now, Ace’s hand rested low on CC’s hip, possessive, knuckles white with restrained force. CC was trying to laugh, to play it cool, but her knuckles were pale where she gripped her red plastic cup.
"Your shot, Davis," Ace’s voice cut through the background noise, low but carrying. It wasn’t gentle. It was a command.
CC took a shaky breath, tossed the ball. It clattered uselessly against the rim. A groan went up from their side.
"Fuck," CC muttered, stepping back, bumping into Ace.
That was all it took. Ace moved like lightning. One moment she was behind CC, the next she’d spun her around, slamming her back against the sticky surface of the beer pong table. Cups wobbled, spilling cheap beer across the plywood. The chatter in the basement died instantly, replaced by a startled hush.
"Always fucking choking under pressure," Ace snarled, her voice thick with dark heat. Her body pinned CC, one hand fisting in the front of CC’s thin, floral top, the other already diving under the skirt. Lee froze, his beer halfway to his lips. He saw the raw hunger in Ace’s eyes, the way her jaw clenched, and knew this wasn’t just anger. This was something primal, demanding.
"No, Ace, not here—" CC’s plea was strangled, cut off as Ace’s fingers hooked into the delicate lace at CC’s hip.
"Shut it," Ace growled, her teeth flashing. She didn’t rip with her hand this time. She ducked her head, buried her face against CC’s trembling thigh, and bit down hard on the fabric. There was a sickeningly loud rrrip as the lace tore apart. Ace jerked her head back, spitting out a scrap of pale pink lace onto the beer-slicked floor. CC’s bare cunt was exposed to the humid basement air, and the flickering neon light, and the stunned stares of half the soccer and track teams.
Lee’s mouth went dry. He saw the glistening wetness already coating CC’s smooth skin, the frantic pulse in her throat. He saw the predatory gleam in Ace’s eyes as she surveyed the shocked faces around them.
"Look at her," Ace commanded the room, her voice rough, almost guttural. She didn’t wait. Her hand, slick from CC’s own arousal, shoved back between CC’s legs. Not one finger, not two. Three thick digits plunged brutally deep into CC’s soaking pussy in one vicious thrust.
CC’s back arched off the table, a ragged, high-pitched scream tearing from her throat. Her hands flew back, scrambling for purchase on the slippery plywood. Her legs instinctively tried to clamp shut, but Ace’s hips held them ruthlessly apart.
"Tell them!" Ace demanded, her voice harsh against CC’s ear as her fingers pistoned ruthlessly, knuckle-deep, the obscene squelch echoing in the sudden silence. She curled them hard on the inward stroke, dragging against that sensitive inner wall. "Tell them all how much you love being my little fucktoy!" She twisted her wrist, grinding the heel of her palm against CC’s clit with bruising pressure. "Tell them how fucking wet you get knowing anyone could walk in, knowing they’re all watching!"
CC’s eyes were wide, terrified, but dark with a desperate, humiliated arousal. Her body was betraying her utterly, hips jerking involuntarily against Ace’s brutal hand. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with sweat. "A-Ace, please—"
"SAY IT!" Ace roared, slamming her fingers deeper, the force jolting CC’s entire body. She bit down on the curve where CC’s neck met her shoulder, not breaking skin this time but hard enough to make CC yelp. "Tell them who owns this greedy little cunt!"
The crowd erupted. Not in disgust, but in a wave of crude, drunken encouragement. "Fuck yeah, Ace!" "Make her squirt!" "Damn, Davis!" "Show us how you take it, blondie!" Whistles pierced the air. The shock had morphed into a voyeuristic frenzy.
Spurred by the audience, Ace fucked CC harder, faster. Her fingers were a relentless piston, her thumb a punishing circle on CC’s swollen clit. CC’s screams dissolved into choked sobs and desperate moans. Her thighs trembled violently, slick with sweat and her own juices. She was pinned, displayed, ravaged in front of everyone. Her gaze locked with Lee’s across the room. He saw the shame, the terror, but beneath it, a terrifying, undeniable spark of ecstasy.
"Who?!" Ace snarled, panting, her own arousal obvious in the tight set of her jaw, the sweat beading on her temple. "Who fucking owns you?!"
CC’s body was coiled impossibly tight, wound by pain and pleasure and the sheer, degrading exposure. The crude shouts, Ace’s brutal possession, the feel of those thick fingers stretching her, filling her, hammering her deepest spot – it detonated. Her spine snapped taut like a bowstring, a guttural wail ripped from her soul, raw and ragged. Her cunt clamped down on Ace’s fingers with shocking, convulsive force, milking them hard as a flood of creamy wetness gushed out, soaking Ace’s hand, dripping onto the table and the floor beneath. She thrashed against the table, her vision blurring, consumed by the most intense, shattering orgasm of her life, delivered in front of a cheering crowd.
Ace held her there, fingers still buried deep, riding out the violent spasms, a dark triumph in her eyes as she surveyed the scene – CC broken and trembling on the table, the teammates hollering approval. Slowly, as CC’s cries subsided into whimpers, her body going limp and boneless, Ace withdrew her glistening fingers. She held them up, slick and wet in the dim light, for a beat, a crude trophy, before lowering her head again.
Lee watched, heart pounding, arousal warring with a deep, sickening concern, as Ace pressed her lips to CC’s sweat-drenched temple. The gesture was startlingly tender after the brutality. Ace murmured something, too low for anyone else to hear. Lee saw the words hit CC; a fresh sob shook her frame, her hand fluttering weakly to cover her face.
"Alright, show's over, you fucking animals!" Ace barked at the crowd, her voice regaining its usual commanding edge, though hoarse. She shrugged out of her worn soccer hoodie, the one she practically lived in, and draped it clumsily around CC’s shoulders, covering her exposed front. "Get the fuck back to your game." Her glare dared anyone to object.
The crowd, momentarily chastened by her tone, slowly dissolved back into uneasy chatter and resumed the beer pong, though furtive glances kept darting towards the table.
Lee finally moved. He pushed off the couch, navigating the chaos, his eyes fixed on CC’s trembling form. Ace was trying to help her sit up, her movements rough but lacking their earlier violence. CC’s face was buried in Ace’s shoulder now, the oversized hoodie swallowing her, her body shaking with silent tears.
"Hey," Lee said softly, reaching them. He ignored Ace for a moment, focusing on the top of CC’s blond head visible under the hood. "CC? You okay? Can you walk?"
Ace’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing defensively. "She’s fine," she stated, her arm tightening around CC. But her voice lacked conviction. Up close, Lee could see the strain around Ace’s eyes, the flicker of something like regret beneath the habitual hardness. The bite mark on CC’s neck looked raw and angry.
"Let me help," Lee insisted, keeping his tone calm but firm. He met Ace’s glare. "Ace. Let me help." He reached out, not touching CC yet, but offering his hand near her dangling one.
Ace stared at him, a silent battle raging in her dark eyes. Possession warred with... something else. Guilt? Fear? She gave the slightest, almost imperceptible nod, her grip on CC loosening just enough.
Lee gently took CC’s icy hand. "Come on, Firecracker," he murmured, using his old nickname for her. "Let’s get you some air." He carefully guided her stiff, trembling form off the sticky table, Ace hovering close, a dark, silent shadow beside them as they moved towards the basement stairs, leaving the stunned silence and the smell of sex and spilled beer behind.