Chapter 34: Ace's calloused hands spread CC's plump ass cheeks as she rams the silicone cock deep into her tight hole, the wet squelch echoing through the dorm room. CC screams into the pillow as Ace pounds her mercilessly, her free hand yanking CC's hair back to expose the bite marks covering her neck. 'Gonna fuck you so hard you'll feel this in class tomorrow, princess.'
The silence inside Lee’s Honda Civic had been a physical thing, thick and choking, all the way back to campus. Ace had stared out the back window, the rhythmic thump of the tires on asphalt echoing the frantic pounding of her own heart. CC’s silent tears hadn’t stopped, her reflection in the passenger window a smudged, broken doll. Lee hadn’t spoken again. He’d pulled up outside Ace’s dorm building, engine idling, his gaze fixed straight ahead, radiating disapproval like heat. Ace had mumbled a thanks that died in her throat, climbed out, and practically dragged a near-catatonic CC from the car. Lee drove off without a word, the taillights disappearing into the predawn gloom like judgment itself retreating.
Now, sunlight, harsh and revealing, streamed through the single window of Ace’s cramped dorm room. It illuminated dust motes dancing in the air, the scattered clothes from last night – a black t-shirt here, a discarded lace bra there – and the tangle of limbs on the narrow bed. Ace woke slowly, the familiar ache in her shoulders from sleeping awkwardly, compounded by a deeper, gnawing hollowness in her chest. The events of the night – the bistro, the parking lot – slammed back into her consciousness like a punch. Shame scalded her throat.
Then, sensation registered. Movement against her thigh. Heat. Wetness.
She blinked, focusing. CC was straddling her hip, facing the foot of the bed. Ace’s right hand was trapped between CC’s thighs. Not trapped. Buried. CC was grinding down onto Ace’s fingers, her hips pistoning with a desperate, focused rhythm. Ace’s knuckles were slick, her wrist wet with the evidence of CC’s arousal. The sound was obscene in the quiet morning air: a slick, rhythmic squelch, punctuated by CC’s shallow, gasping breaths.
But CC wasn’t looking at Ace. Her gaze was locked onto the phone propped up against a discarded textbook on the bedside table. The screen glowed brightly. On it, playing on a loop, was a video. Ace recognized it instantly. Taken weeks ago, in the communal dorm showers late one night. Steam swirling. Water cascading down CC’s blonde hair, her slick skin. Ace’s own hand, possessive, sliding between CC’s legs from behind, the camera angle catching the moment CC threw her head back, mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure. It had been playful then. Intimate. Now, watching CC obsessively ride her fingers while fixated on that flickering image of their past selves felt… perverse. Violating.
A surge of anger, sharp and acidic, cut through Ace’s grogginess and shame. This wasn’t intimacy. This was escape. This was CC trying to rewrite the ugliness with a memory, using Ace’s body as a tool. And Ace, lying there, letting it happen? Complicit.
"Fuck," Ace growled, her voice thick with sleep and disgust. "You fucking addicted to yourself, baby?" She flexed the fingers buried inside CC, curling them deliberately against the spongy spot she knew so well.
CC cried out, her hips stuttering. "God! Ace! Don't stop!" Her eyes stayed glued to the screen, watching Ace’s digital hand move between her digital legs. "Just like that… watch how you… oh!"
The disconnect was jarring. CC wasn’t with her. She was with the fantasy on the screen. The controlled, desired version of events. Not the raw, brutal reality of last night’s parking lot pounding, fueled by rage and humiliation. Ace yanked her hand free with a wet, sucking sound. CC gasped, her body jolting, finally tearing her gaze from the phone to look down at Ace, frustration warring with confusion in her tear-swollen eyes.
"What—?" CC started, her voice breathy and needy.
"Enough." Ace’s voice was low, dangerous. The hollowness filled with a familiar, furious energy. The energy she used on the soccer field, the energy she’d used to pin CC against the car hood. It was safer than the shame. She sat up abruptly, pushing CC off her hip. CC tumbled onto her back with a startled yelp, staring up, her chest heaving, her nipples hard peaks against the thin fabric of Ace’s stolen sleep shirt. The damp patch between her bare thighs glistened in the sunlight.
Ace swung her legs off the bed, ignoring the twinge of protest from her muscles. She stalked across the small room, the worn carpet rough under her bare feet. The air smelled of stale beer, sweat, sex, and the faint chemical tang of cleaning products. She grabbed the thickest strap-on from its hook inside her wardrobe door. The harness was heavy leather, the dildo thick and veined, a deep plum silicone that looked almost black in the shadows. It felt cold in her hands. A weapon. A punishment. For both of them.
She didn’t look at CC as she stepped into the harness, pulling the straps tight around her hips and thighs with sharp, efficient tugs. The weight settled against her pelvis, heavy and demanding. She buckled the front strap with a decisive click that echoed in the tense silence. Only then did she turn back.
CC was still on her back, propped on her elbows, watching. Her green eyes were wide, pupils dilated. Not with fear. With anticipation. With that same desperate hunger Ace had seen in the bistro. The sight ignited the fury again, hotter this time.
"Turn over," Ace commanded, her voice flat.
CC obeyed instantly, scrambling onto her stomach, pushing herself up onto her knees, presenting her round, pale ass. She buried her face in the rumpled sheets, muffling a whimper. The position was abject. Vulnerable.
Ace walked back to the bed, the strap-on bobbing heavily with each step. She didn’t kneel. She stood beside the bed, grabbed CC’s hips, and hauled her backwards roughly until her ass was perched right on the edge of the mattress, legs dangling. Ace stepped between her spread thighs. She didn’t touch CC’s slick center yet. She ran the cold, blunt silicone head slowly, deliberately, up the cleft of CC’s ass, over her lower back, then back down, tracing the wet seam of her pussy but not entering. Teasing. Torturing.
CC moaned, a low, broken sound, pushing her hips back, seeking friction. "Ace… please…"
"Please what?" Ace asked, her voice dripping with a cruel mockery of tenderness. She pressed the broad, unyielding tip firmly against CC’s entrance, applying pressure but not yielding. "You want this fat cock? After last night? After the fucking spectacle you made?"
"Yes!" CC gasped, her voice cracking. She pushed back harder, trying to impale herself, but Ace held firm. "Need it! Need you to fuck me raw! Like… like before!"
"Like the whore you are?" Ace supplied, grinding the tip harder. She watched CC’s slick folds part around the pressure, glistening obscenely.
"Yesss!" CC hissed, the word dissolving into another choked cry.
Ace snapped her hips forward, burying the thick silicone head in one brutal thrust.
CC screamed, the sound muffled by the sheets, her body arching violently. Ace didn’t pause. She pulled back almost completely, feeling the desperate clench of CC’s inner muscles trying to hold on, then slammed forward again, driving the entire massive length deep into the tight, clenching heat. She set a relentless, punishing pace from the start. No build-up. No tenderness. Just raw, animalistic fucking. Each powerful thrust drove CC’s body up the mattress, the cheap frame groaning in protest. Ace grabbed handfuls of CC’s hips, her fingers digging into soft flesh, using the leverage to piston into her.
The sounds were brutal. The wet slap of skin against Ace’s harness straps. The guttural grunts ripped from Ace’s throat with each drive forward. The high, keening cries CC made with each deep penetration, punctuated by gasps for air. And beneath it all, the slick, rhythmic squelch of the thick silicone pistoning in and out of CC’s drenched pussy.
"Take it!" Ace snarled, driving deeper, grinding the base of the harness hard against her own clit, the dual sensation – the brutal power she exerted, the sharp pleasure radiating from the pressure – a dizzying feedback loop. "Take every fucking inch, you greedy slut! This what you wanted? Huh?" She landed a sharp smack on CC’s ass cheek, the sound cracking through the room. A bright red handprint bloomed on pale skin. "This how you like it? Bent over and used?"
"Yesss! God! Yesss!" CC sobbed, her voice raw. "Harder! Fuck me harder, Ace! Make me feel it! Make me forget!" She pushed back frantically against Ace’s thrusts, meeting her force with desperate need.
Ace obliged. Her movements became frenzied, the bed frame banging against the wall in a frantic rhythm. She could feel CC tightening around her, the fluttering starting deep inside, the wetness gushing down her own thighs. The harness base rubbed relentlessly against her clit, the pressure building to a sharp, almost painful peak. CC’s cries turned into incoherent shrieks, her body trembling violently.
"Come!" Ace commanded, slamming home with one final, bone-jarring thrust that buried the strap to the hilt. She ground down hard, the base crushing against her own sensitive flesh. "Come all over this fucking cock!"
CC shattered. Her scream tore free, muffled only partially by the sheets. Her body locked, every muscle straining, before collapsing in violent, rhythmic convulsions around the thick silicone shaft buried deep inside her. Ace groaned, a raw, guttural sound ripped from her chest, as her own climax detonated. It wasn’t pleasure, not really. It was a seismic release of fury, of shame, of the impossible tension coiling in her gut since the bistro. White light exploded behind her eyes as she ground against CC’s ass, riding out the brutal waves of sensation.
She collapsed forward, panting harshly, her forehead resting between CC’s shoulder blades. Sweat dripped from her hairline onto CC’s sweat-slicked skin. The room stank of sex, sweat, and something desperate and broken. Beneath her, CC trembled, her breath coming in ragged, hitching sobs. Ace slowly, painfully, pulled out. The thick silicone slid free with a lewd, wet sound. CC whimpered.
Ace straightened up, the harness suddenly heavy and alien. She looked down at CC, still sprawled face down on the edge of the bed, ass in the air, exposed and trembling. The red handprint stood out starkly. The sight didn’t ignite possessiveness this time. Only a profound, sickening emptiness. This wasn’t fixing anything. This was digging the hole deeper.
She unbuckled the harness with numb fingers, letting it drop to the floor with a heavy thud. She ignored it. Ignored the dampness between her own thighs. She grabbed a discarded towel from the floor and threw it roughly over CC’s exposed lower half. CC flinched but didn’t move.
Ace walked to the window, staring out at the bright, oblivious campus morning. Students walked to class, laughing. Birds chirped. The world moved on. Inside this small, reeking room, everything felt fractured. Irrevocably changed. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass, closing her eyes. The image of CC whimpering against Lee’s car hood warred with the sight of her trembling on the bed. Lee’s flat command echoed: Fix this. But how? What was left to fix? The hunger was still there, undeniable, but it tasted like ash.
The silence stretched, thick with unsaid things and the sour residue of release. Somewhere, deep beneath the numbness and the fading adrenaline, Ace knew this couldn’t last. The collision course they were on was nearing its inevitable, messy end. There was no fantasy phone screen deep enough to hide from that. The reckoning wasn't just overdue; it was barreling towards them, and Ace had no idea how to brace for the impact. She heard a muffled sob from the bed. She didn't turn around.