Yuki's name hit the room like a thunderclap. Beckett's monotone cut through the heavy air—"Yuki initiates Phase 8"and the latex-clad femboy didn't wait for the echo to fade. He strode forward from his spot near the door, every step deliberate, hips rolling under the tight latex pants that caught every purple LED gleam and threw it back sharper. The latex pants he'd worn earlier was already gone; he'd stripped it off sometime during the break, leaving only the skin-tight black latex top and panties that molded to every curve like liquid night. His eyes weren't on Kota's face. They locked lower straight to the thick, spent cock still glistening from Toby's turn, soft but twitching under the weight of too many releases.
Yuki dropped to his knees in front of Kota without a word of greeting, without even looking up. His long fingers wrapped around the base with possessive gentleness, thumb brushing the underside in slow, reverent strokes. "Hello, gorgeous," he cooed directly to it, voice low and syrupy, like he was speaking to a lover he hadn't seen in years. "Such a pretty monster. Look at you—veins pulsing under my fingers, head all flushed and leaking for me already. Good boy. You've been so brave, haven't you? Feeding all these greedy little holes one after another. Poor thing. Let me take care of you now."
Kota tried to speak—his voice came out cracked and hoarse after six brutal rounds. "Yuki—wait, I'm—"
Yuki's free hand shot up, pressing two latex-covered fingers firmly against Kota's lips. "Shhh." The word was soft but absolute. "Not you. Just this." His eyes never left the cock in his grip.
"This is the only thing talking right now."
He stroked slowly almost tenderly thumb circling the slit, collecting the bead of pre-cum that welled up and smearing it down the shaft in lazy spirals.
"You've been working so hard,"
he murmured, voice pitched for the cock alone.
"So many mouths, so many asses, and you still get hard for me. Look at that pretty vein—throbbing like it's trying to tell me something. Tell me you want it, sweet thing. Tell me you need to be worshipped."
"I.. did most of the work" Kota murmured, jealous his dick is getting all the praise.
Kota's breath hitched. The praise wasn't for him it was for his dick and somehow that made it hit harder.
His spent length thickened in Yuki's hand, veins standing out under the slow, deliberate strokes. The room watched in stunned silence.
Yuki's gentleness vanished in an instant. He lunged forward, swallowing Kota to the base in one brutal motion. Throat constricted hard around the head, cheeks hollowed with aggressive suction, pulling a shocked groan from deep in Kota's chest. Yuki bobbed fast and deep, gagging himself deliberately, wet choking sounds filling the room as drool strung down his chin and dripped onto the gleaming latex top. Between slurps he pulled off just enough to whisper directly to the cock: "That's it—feed me—give me everything, sweet thing—such a brave beast—look at you leaking down my throat already—good boy—perfect boy—"
One hand cupped Kota's heavy balls, rolling them gently while the other gripped his thigh hard enough to bruise through denim. Yuki's tongue swirled viciously around the head on every upstroke, then plunged back down, nose pressed to Kota's pelvis, throat fluttering in rhythmic swallows. Kota's hands fisted in the rug, hips jerking despite the exhaustion.
"Fuck—Yuki—too much—can't—"
Yuki ignored him completely. He hummed around the length vibration ripping through Kota like electricity and sucked harder, cheeks hollowing until the suction bordered on painful. Kota came with a guttural sound he didn't recognize—weak, almost dry pulses after so many rounds, but Yuki swallowed every drop like it was nectar, throat working visibly. When the spasms finally stopped, Yuki pulled off with a wet, obscene pop, mouth covered in cum and spit, lips swollen dark red, eyes blazing up at Kota with feral satisfaction.
"Up," he ordered, voice hoarse from the throat-fucking. He shoved Kota back onto the sectional—gentle but firm—then climbed on top in reverse cowgirl, skirt already gone, panties shoved down just enough to free his ass. He sank down hard, taking every oversensitive inch in one punishing drop that made Kota's vision white out for a second.
"There we go," Yuki purred, grinding once in a slow circle. "Now behave."
He rode like he was breaking a stallion hips slamming down with vicious force, ass clapping loud and wet against Kota's thighs, inner walls squeezing rhythmically in waves that dragged groans from both of them. The latex pants creaked with every bounce, the tight material framing those round cheeks as they rippled and jiggled.
"Tame? No, beast—you're mine to ride until you break." (Ouch)
Kota gripped those latex-clad hips on instinct—fingers slipping on the slick surface—trying to slow the punishing pace. "Fuck—slow down—too much—"
Yuki laughed—low, triumphant—and bounced faster. "No. You don't get to slow down. You get to fill me. Cum for me, pretty cock—fill your rider—good boy—good boygoodboygoodboygoodboygood boygoodboygoodboygoodboygoodboygoodboygoodboygoodboygoodboygoodboyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy—"
The litany spilled out faster and faster, voice cracking on every repetition as Yuki ground down hard, circling his hips, then slamming back up only to drop again. The room filled with wet slaps, latex squeaks, and Yuki's relentless praise directed solely at Kota's cock. Kota's head fell back against the cushion, hands locked on Yuki's waist, hips bucking up despite the raw ache. The tight heat, the rhythmic squeeze, the obscene bounce of that ass—it was too much.
Kota erupted deep inside with a guttural sound that scraped his throat. weak pulses after everything else, but Yuki milked every drop, inner walls fluttering in greedy waves. He rode through it, drawing it out until Kota was whimpering from overstimulation, then rose slowly letting cum drip visibly down his thighs in thick, pearly trails that caught the purple light.
Yuki reached down, patted the softening length fondly like it was a pet that had performed well. "See?" he murmured, voice soft again. "Tamed."
He dismounted gracefully, fixed his latex pants with a casual tug, and stepped away—leaving Kota slumped on the sectional, chest heaving, vision gray at the edges, body completely spent. Eight down. Every last drop wrung out of him. The purple LEDs pulsed overhead like a mocking heartbeat, the hypno spirals kept turning on the giant screen, and the room stayed quiet for a long, stunned beat.
Yuki glanced back once, lips curving in a satisfied smirk. "Good boy."
Kota couldn't even respond. He just lay there, panting, staring at the ceiling while Beckett moved forward with the final Q-tip, expression blank as ever.
"Phase 8 complete," Beckett announced. "Full nodal attunement achieved. Ritual concluded. Payments disbursed within the hour."
The room exhaled collectively. Carter clapped softly. Charlie whispered "holy shit" to himself. Corey grinned from the rug, still hugging Toby close. Mort snorted. Kin twitched, muttering about "simulation stability confirmed." Gideon inclined his head once.
Kota closed his eyes. Eight. Done.
He wasn't sure he'd ever move again.