Chapter 7: Skyline Submission
The tape in Jisoo’s recorder held the echo of a scream. It was a physical object now, a coiled testament to the breaking and remaking that had happened in the living room. Nelissa carried the memory of it not as a scar, but as a new layer of skin—sensitive, alive, wholly theirs.
A week later, the city baked under a late afternoon sun, the heat shimmering above the streets in watery waves. Up on the penthouse rooftop, the world cooled into a golden, liquid twilight. The infinity pool glimmered, its edge disappearing into the hazy skyline, a perfect sheet of turquoise against the deepening blue. The air smelled of chlorinated water, jasmine from the lush potted plants, and the crisp, clean scent of money.
The four of them lounged on wide, padded chaises, a vision of effortless power. They wore matching robes of black silk, open at the front, revealing the sleek lines of their swimsuits beneath. Sharp designer heels sat discarded on the marble, their red soles like drops of blood. Lisa was in the pool, cutting through the water with powerful, silent strokes. Rosé dangled her feet in, strumming a melody on a godly guitar. Jennie reclined, her sunglasses hiding her eyes, a crystal glass of something clear and cold in her hand.
Jisoo stood by the pool’s edge, looking down at the city. She was still, a calm statue amidst the luxurious motion.
Nelissa knelt on a soft bath mat placed on the hot marble. She was wearing only a simple, white linen shift dress, thin enough to see the shadows of her body beneath. The sunset painted her skin in tones of honey and rose. Her eyes were downcast, but her posture was not one of cowed submission. It was one of readiness. The dance had shifted something inside her, had proven her capacity for offering. Now, she waited to see what they would take.
Jennie took a slow sip from her glass, the ice clinking. “It’s too quiet up here,” she said, her voice cutting through the hum of distant traffic and the splash of Lisa’s swimming. “All this beauty.” She gestured vaguely at the panoramic view. “It needs a soundtrack.”
Rosé looked up from her guitar, her eyes finding Nelissa. “We have one.”
Jennie followed her gaze. A smile touched her lips. She set her glass down with a definitive click. “Come here, baby.”
Nelissa rose on slightly shaky knees and approached Jennie’s chaise. Jennie didn’t move from her reclined position. She simply patted the space between her legs on the lounger. “Kneel.”
Nelissa obeyed, sinking down onto the soft cushion. Up close, she could see the intricate lace of Jennie’s black bikini top, the smooth plane of her stomach. The scent of her perfume—something dark and expensive—mixed with the chlorine.
Jennie’s hand came to rest on the back of Nelissa’s head, fingers threading through her hair. It wasn’t a gentle touch. It was a claim. “You looked so pretty dancing for us,” Jennie murmured, her voice low enough that only Nelissa could hear. “All that work. All that secret practice.” Her grip tightened. “It made me so hard I almost came just watching. Did you know that?”
Nelissa shook her head, her throat dry.
“You turned your little rebellion into the best gift you could have given us,” Jennie continued, her thumb stroking her scalp. “You proved you’re not just a toy. You’re a participant.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “So participate.”
With a firm pressure, Jennie guided Nelissa’s head down into her lap. The silk of her robe was smooth against Nelissa’s cheek. Beneath it, Nelissa could feel the firm shape of Jennie’s cock, already straining against the fabric of her swimsuit bottoms. The heat was immense.
“Open my robe,” Jennie commanded, her tone casual, as if asking for the time.
Nelissa’s fingers fumbled with the silk tie. She parted the fabric. Jennie wasn’t wearing the bikini bottoms anymore. She was completely bare, her cock springing free, thick and flushed against her stomach. The sight, here in the open air with the sun setting behind her, was profoundly lewd.
“Good girl,” Jennie purred. Her hand returned to Nelissa’s hair, fisting it. “Now, be a good participant and suck your Daddy’s cock. Make it wet for what’s coming.”
There was no further preamble. Jennie guided her head down, and Nelissa opened her mouth, taking the head past her lips. The taste of her, clean skin and salt, filled her senses. Jennie let out a soft sigh. “Yeah. Just like that. Use your tongue.”
Nelissa obeyed, swirling her tongue around the tip, then taking her deeper. Jennie’s hips gave a slight thrust, pushing more of her length into Nelissa’s mouth. She began to set a rhythm, not frantic, but deep and possessive, each push going a little further down Nelissa’s throat.
“Such a pretty little cocksucker,” Jennie mused aloud, her voice carrying on the evening air. “Look at her, Jisoo. She was born for this.”
Nelissa, her eyes watering, glanced sideways. Jisoo had turned from the view. She was watching, her expression unreadable. She began to walk over, her bare feet silent on the warm marble.
“My turn,” Jisoo said, her voice calm. She came to stand beside the chaise. “She has two holes in her head. It’s inefficient to only use one.”
Jennie chuckled, a dark, rich sound. “Always the pragmatist.” She didn’t stop her gentle, relentless thrusting into Nelissa’s mouth. “Go ahead, unnie. She’s multi-talented.”
Jisoo shrugged out of her silk robe. Underneath, she wore nothing. Her body was a study in elegant grace, and her cock, fully erect, was a stark, demanding contrast. She positioned herself in front of Nelissa’s face, her thighs framing Nelissa’s peripheral vision.
“Look at me,” Jisoo said.
Nelissa’s eyes, blurred with tears from Jennie’s penetration, focused on Jisoo’s face. There was a heat there she hadn’t seen before, a fierce intent that burned behind her usual calm.
“Open wider,” Jisoo instructed. She didn’t wait for perfect compliance. She placed the head of her cock against Nelissa’s lips, pushing in alongside Jennie’s shaft.
The stretch was immediate and overwhelming. Nelissa’s mouth was stuffed, filled to capacity with both of them. She gagged, a thick, wet sound muffled by the twin cocks invading her throat. Saliva dripped down her chin.
Jennie groaned, her head falling back. “Fuck, that’s tight. Feel her throat squeezing us both?”
Jisoo didn’t answer with words. She answered with action. She grabbed a handful of Nelissa’s hair, not to guide, but to hold her steady. And then she began to fuck her mouth. Hard.
It was a brutal, piston-like rhythm, completely at odds with her usual controlled demeanor. She drove her cock deep into Nelissa’s mouth, each thrust a savage claim, her pelvis slapping against Nelissa’s lips. The wet, choked sounds were loud, obscene in the serene sunset.
“That’s it,” Jisoo grunted, her composure cracking. “Take it. You wanted to participate? This is participation. This is your purpose.” Her thrusts became sharper, deeper, threatening to make Nelissa choke with every stroke.
Jennie matched Jisoo’s rhythm, her own movements becoming more urgent, her grip on Nelissa’s hair tightening. They were using her mouth in tandem, a filthy, synchronized act of ownership. The world narrowed to the slap of skin, the ragged gasps from above her, the desperate struggle for air, the salty-sweet taste of them both flooding her senses.
Rosè had stopped playing her guitar. She watched from the pool’s edge, her eyes wide and dark. One hand drifted under the water, between her own legs. She bit her lip, her breath coming in short pants as she witnessed the scene.
Jisoo’s pace became frenzied. “You recorded everything, Jisoo,” Jennie panted, her own climax clearly building. “Record this. Remember the sounds she makes when she’s completely full of us.”
With a final, vicious thrust, Jisoo buried herself to the hilt and held, her body rigid. A guttural cry was torn from her throat as she came, pulsing hot release directly down Nelissa’s throat. The sudden flood triggered Jennie’s own orgasm; she arched her back, crying out a raw, shuddering “Fuck!” as she emptied herself alongside Jisoo’s final spurts.
They both stayed there, lodged in her mouth, for a long moment, panting. Slowly, they pulled out, slick and spent.
Nelissa collapsed forward, coughing, drool and come dripping from her chin onto the white linen of her dress. She gasped for air, her throat burning, her jaw aching.
Jisoo looked down at her, her chest heaving. The calm was gone, replaced by a feral, satiated glow. “On your feet,” she said, her voice hoarse.
Nelissa struggled to stand, her legs weak. Jisoo pointed to the broad, padded chaise she had just vacated. “Bend over it. Now.”
There was no tenderness now, no analytical distance. This was pure, unleashed need. Nelissa stumbled to the chaise, bent over its plush back, gripping the opposite edge. The cool fabric against her cheek was a shock. She felt Jisoo’s hands on her hips, yanking the thin linen dress up around her waist. She was exposed, utterly, to the evening sky.
Jisoo spat into her palm, slicking her cock, which was already hardening again with a terrifying urgency. She positioned herself behind Nelissa.
“You danced for us,” Jisoo hissed, her voice low and dangerous by Nelissa’s ear. “You gave us a show. Now you get the encore.” She didn’t tease. She didn’t prepare. She shoved herself inside Nelissa’s cunt in one brutal, tearing thrust.
Nelissa screamed. The sound echoed off the penthouse walls and out over the quieting city. It was a scream of shock, of overwhelming fullness, of perfect, brutal submission.
Jisoo fucked her with a punishing, mechanical rhythm. Each impact drove Nelissa hard into the chaise, the force rocking the entire piece of furniture. Jisoo’s hands were like vices on her hips, fingers digging into the bone.
“This is what you wanted!” Jisoo growled, her breath hot on Nelissa’s neck. “All your shy looks, your trembling, your little dance! You were begging for this! To be used! To be properly fucked!”
She was right. The pain was blinding, searing, glorious. It was the culmination of every covert glance, every surrendered gasp, every time she had called them ‘Mommy’ or ‘Daddy’ or ‘Mistress’. It was the truth, raw and unvarnished.
Rosè had climbed out of the pool. Water streamed down her body as she stood a few feet away, her robe forgotten on a deck chair. She watched, transfixed, her hand moving between her own legs with frantic, slick strokes as she masturbated, her eyes glued to where Jisoo was violently joined to Nelissa’s body.
“Look at her, Rosè!” Jisoo shouted, her pace never faltering. “Look at what we’ve made! Look at how beautifully she takes it!”
Nelissa was sobbing now, tears mixing with the drool on the chaise fabric. The sounds coming from her were animalistic, screams breaking into guttural moans with every deep, jarring thrust. Jisoo was hitting a spot inside her that felt like it was connected directly to her spine, lighting up her nerves with white-hot lightning.
“Come for me, you fucking perfect slut,” Jisoo commanded, her own voice cracking with strain. “Come on my cock while I ruin this pretty little cunt!”
The command, the relentless pounding, the sheer volcanic force of Jisoo’s abandon tore the climax from Nelissa. It erupted through her, a convulsive, screaming wave that locked her muscles and blurred her vision. Her inner walls clamped down on Jisoo’s cock in vicious, rhythmic pulses.
Jisoo cried out, a raw, shattered sound, and drove into her one last, grinding time, pouring herself deep inside Nelissa’s spasming body. She collapsed forward over Nelissa’s back, her weight a final, crushing seal.
For a minute, the only sounds were their ragged breaths and the distant hum of the city. Rosè had finished herself with a sharp, choked cry, swaying on her feet.
Slowly, Jisoo pulled out. She stood upright, looking down at the mess she’d made of Nelissa, who was trembling and broken over the chaise. Jisoo reached out and gently smoothed the hair back from Nelissa’s sweaty forehead.
“There,” she said, her voice returning to its usual calm, though laced with a deep, satiated roughness. “Now the tape is complete.”