The client wasn't human. That much Elma knew before the curtain even closed. The booth was colder, the shadows thicker, like the air itself bent to the figure waiting inside.
She was beautiful in a dangerous, uncanny way — skin pale as glass, lips the color of fresh blood, and eyes that shifted with every glance, never quite the same shade twice. Her hair was white-gold, cascading like silk, but when she moved it shimmered with scales.
"Elma Nuiz," the woman purred, her voice low, vibrating through the booth. "Nitron's prized whore."
Elma smirked, sliding into the booth opposite her. "Another collector? You girls really need new hobbies."
The rival laughed, a sound too smooth, too deliberate. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, gaze never leaving Elma. "No. I'm not here to collect. I'm here to taste."
Elma rolled her eyes. "Get in line."
But when the rival rose and slid across the booth, her movements were liquid, inevitable. Elma stiffened as the woman pressed close, her hands braced against either side of the booth, trapping her in place.
"You think you control the room," the rival whispered. "But what happens when someone controls you?"
Before Elma could retort, the rival's mouth was at her throat, tongue tracing fire across her skin. Elma gasped despite herself, heat punching low in her belly. She cursed under her breath and grabbed the woman's hair, ready to slam her back—
But the rival was faster. She slid down Elma's body, lips brushing her chest, her stomach, lower and lower.
"Stop—" Elma growled, but the word broke on a sharp inhale when the rival's tongue licked straight against her clit, slow and deliberate.
[System Alert: Foreign Stimulation Detected]
Warning: Stamina drain risk increased.
Effect: Submission threshold weakening.
Elma clawed at the booth cushion, her head thrown back, breath coming ragged. "Fuck—"
The rival didn't stop. She licked up again, harder this time, swirling her tongue in a pattern that made Elma shudder. Fingers pressed against her thighs, pinning her open.
"You fight so hard," the rival murmured, her voice muffled between Elma's legs. "But your body betrays you."
"Shut up—" Elma tried, but then the rival sucked hard, teasing her clit until her vision blurred. Sparks raced up her spine, the climax building sharp and fast.
Two minutes later, Elma's body gave out. The orgasm ripped through her, harder than any before, white spark-like fluid spraying from her in a sudden, violent rush. It splashed across the rival's face, glittering against her pale skin.
Elma collapsed back, panting, trembling, humiliated by how fast, how hard it had hit her.
The rival licked the fluid from her lips, smirking. "Stronger than I expected. Delicious."
[System Surge: Forced Release Registered]
Energy Loss: -15%
Contamination Risk: Moderate
**New Trait Gained: Submission Leak — Rival contact increases climax potency, reduces control.]
Elma's hands shook as she tried to push the rival off. "You… fucking bitch—"
The rival kissed her again, mouth wet, tongue forcing hers open. "Mmm. You'll thank me soon."
When Elma finally shoved free, she staggered to her feet, legs still weak, body still twitching from aftershocks. Rage burned hot in her chest, but underneath it—shame, and hunger for more.
The rival sat back, calm and smug, wiping Elma's release from her cheek with one elegant finger. "Tell Nitron you lost this round."
Elma stormed from the booth, throat raw, eyes blazing.
The system's last warning followed her out:
[Note: Rival essence has marked your climax. Trace connection established.]
And for the first time, Elma wasn't sure if she wanted to fight the next round—or beg for it.